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MIT: Denial	By : Ghost-of-a-Chance Category: +S through Z > Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles Views: 1181 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own TMNT, Hellboy, or any mentioned music, movies, etc; I make no money from this. I DO own Alesha, Maggie, Dante, the Willows, and Amber...and coffee. LOTS of COFFEE.

Chapter List
- 1-MIT: Denial
- 2-51: Secrets, Solutions, Certainty
- 1
- 2
Suggested Listening: The Goo Goo Dolls "Iris," Red "Best is Yet to Come," Ashes Remain "On My Own"

51: Secrets, Solutions, Certainty
November 10th, afternoon
Somewhere along the line, Donatello miscalculated; where or when that miscalculation was, he had no earthly idea. All he knew for certain was this: against all odds, the most unlikely of sources brought answers to the conundrum of Amber's strange dreams of home. How this happened, the genius still wasn't sure—his head was still spinning from the unexpected admission from his father and sensei.
"This…this makes no sense," Donnie muttered digging his fingertips into the bridge of his snout as though warding off a headache. "Amber's having prophetic dreams of her home world…because you saw her past?"
"That's the best explanation I can find," Splinter sighed. "Ordinarily, there should be no lasting effects, harmful or otherwise. Because she is from another reality than our own, the shared meditation technique I used may have inadvertently opened a psychic door to the world she left behind—a door she regrettably is unable to close under her own volition."
"This is insane." Donnie scoffed, his hands dropping to dangle off of his knees. At the time, he was too focused on getting answers to ask how his father could get those answers. Now… "Where did you even hear about that technique, anyway? It's not in any of your books about the martial arts—I checked. Where did you learn about it?"
Splinter hesitated, dark eyes focused somewhere beyond the cup of tea steaming on his low table. Perhaps…yes. The time was now. "Gather your brothers, and the two young ladies as well. I hoped to put this off a little longer, but it appears the time has come."
Splinter's life began as a simple lab rat—his future should have been set in stone. Instead, he was freed, mutated, and left to fend for the four young turtles who endured the same testing he did. Every new parent faces struggles, but most will have some semblance of assistance, somewhere to turn when they needed help or advice. Splinter had no such thing…at least not to start with. That eventual assistance, while gravely needed, was something he was never sure how to explain to his boys. Now, he had no choice but to explain and hope they could understand his reasons for keeping it secret.
"You all know my training in Ninjitsu began with the discovery of a book. There is, however, more to the story than I have told you." As he spoke, he collected the book in question from his shelves and opened it to the very first page, where a cryptic inscription was scribbled in roughly-scrawled Japanese. "The book only provides the barest of essentials in ninjitsu training—one cannot learn something as complex as a martial arts discipline through the written word alone. This inscription contains coded instructions…directions on how to open a portal to another realm commonly called the Battle Nexus."
"The what now?" Leonardo shook his head in denial. "You—" Splinter shot him a stern glance, and he fell silent.
"The Battle Nexus is a world meant to be accessed by those studying the ancient martial arts," Splinter continued seriously. "The book revealed the basics central to most martial arts disciplines, then decoding the inscription therein revealed the Nexus to me. It was in that other realm that I met a powerful master of Ninjitsu—a man by the name of Hamato Yoshi—and studied under him in hopes of keeping you four safe."
"You studied under a master?" Leo repeated in disbelief. "How have we never met him? Until April, no one ever found the Lair—how were you able to keep such an important visitor secret from us?"
"Master Yoshi never came to our world. I always went to his world for training—the moment you boys fell asleep, I left for an hour or two of training…" Here, Splinter shot Michelangelo a stern frown.
"Oh, this is my part!" Mikey grinned. "Can I tell'em now? Please? Pleasepleaseplease?" Splinter rolled his eyes.
"Tell us what?" Raphael demanded.
"When we were still kids, I caught Sensei sneakin' out once," Mikey explained without once losing his grin. "I woke up to pee and when I came back to bed, I saw him walking through a glowy hole in the wall and followed him. If I told anyone, he would'a put me in the Hashi. You're lookin' at the youngest Battle Nexus Champion ever, Bruhs! OW!" After Splinter's timely brain-duster, Raph and Donnie exchanged a bewildered glance, struggling to comprehend what they were hearing. Last year, they never would have believed Mikey capable of keeping secrets to save his life, but now they had undeniable proof that he could keep them. The Hardy cousins were a sizable secret alone, but interdimensional travel and their father training with a ninja master from another world? That was pushing it.
"I always intended to tell you, my sons, when you became older," Splinter admitted with a sigh. "I just never could find a way to start that conversation…by the time you were old enough to understand, my Master Yoshi was gone, passed away, and I was a master myself."
"This…this is a lot to take in." Leo scratched his head. "It's hard to believe you managed to keep this a secret from us so long."
"My son," Splinter asked with deceptive innocence, "which is more unbelievable: that a grumpy old rat has a few secrets left, or that he could learn the ancient art of Ninjitsu from a book?"
Later that afternoon, everything was settled and a plan was developed, and Donatello was diligently studying the steps to opening an interdimensional portal. While he worked out his end, Amber took care of her own. Almost a year after leaving her world behind, that night, she would be going home… Why did that realization frighten her so much? For the moment, she had no answers.
"Amber?" The greeting startled the brunette from her thoughts and she turned to acknowledge the genius hovering in the kitchen doorway. "What did I miss?" She gave a sheepish smile, tugging nervously at one of the many grey locks streaking her hair—those grey locks were now hidden, disguised with bright blue and soft violet dye courtesy of Mercy's handiwork and Kimber's drink mix stash.
"I'm dead in that world," Amber reminded Donnie as he poured himself a cup of stale coffee and invited himself to the table with her. "That me looked pretty different from how I do now but the resemblance is strong enough people might panic. I need'a avoid notice while we're there, an' the easiest way to be ignored is to look like I don't belong."
"That makes absolutely no sense. If you stand out, wouldn't you be more noticeable?"
"Not in small towns." Amber shrugged, still absently toying with the stray lock of grape violet hair. "I didn't fit in, remember? Because I didn't fit in, I was mostly ignored until Mum set her church cronies on me. If I look like I'm just another glaikit toonser• the locals'll trip over'emselves to ignore me. It's safer bein' outlandish than ordinary when hidin' in a small town." Donnie tore his eyes away from the violet streaking her hair, a faint blush blooming in his cheeks. He wasn't crazy about the raspberry blue streaks, but she wore his color well…yes, purple looked very nice on his Amber.
"If you think it'll work." He stared with a sigh down into his coffee. "You're used to the small town mentality whereas I've never been out of New York state for long." Silence filled the kitchen—cold, uncomfortable silence full of electricity and fear—until one of them was again driven to fill it.
"I'm…afraid." Amber's admission caught the genius off-guard.
"Master says the portal technique is safe, Honey." He accompanied the reminder with a gentle shoulder-squeeze. "He's taught me everything he can and I'm bringing notes just in case; if we're not back in a week, he'll come for us himself. There's no need to be afraid."
"I'm not worried about the portal malfunctioning," she admitted with an embarrassed cringe. "I…" She faltered, took a steadying breath, then soldiered on ahead. "You don't know what I was like in my last life, Dee. You know hardly anything about that me, not even what I looked like…an' I'm not foolish enough to assume you'll make it the entire trip without ever catching a glimpse of that me in some bog-awful photo or something. I'm just not lookin' forward to that happening."
"Does it really matter?" His words were blunt but his eyes softened the blow. "It's not the body that matters, remember? The soul in that body is what's important. I highly doubt your previous appearance could have any negative effect on my affection for you." Amber stared him down over her glasses, seemingly searching for any sign he was bluffing.
"Five-foot-three in shoes," she listed off in a deadpan tone. "Over two hundred pounds. Half-crippled at thirty-five an' on the far side of awkward. Constantly slouching because of fused vertebrae. Always tired. Frequently bitching even in a good mood. My hair was almost entirely grey an' startin' to thin an' my ass was big enough to prop a lamp on. Shall I continue?"
"If you wish." He shrugged. "It makes no difference to me—you've already told me most of this and it doesn't bother me." She finally broke eye contact, her eyes sad.
"There's more, though. I told you about Aaron…I told you there was no burn there…but it wasn't always like that." The admission worried him at first, but Donnie patiently waited for her to fill in the blanks. "Mercy an' I met Aaron when we were in grade school, but we didn't really become friends until high school. I had a massive crush on him for years but never got any sign he felt the same an' eventually let it die out." Unbidden, her memory reminded her of the day she and Aaron found her home destroyed—reminded her of the frantic way he clung to her as the skies broke open overhead. "The day we came back to find Willsdale in ruins, he kissed me...I thought he was just tryin' to calm me down, but Mercy…" She choked up, shaking her head bitterly. "What Mercy told me today suggests otherwise. If we manage to make it there before he's done 'imself harm, I can't guarantee how he'll react to seein' me."
Donatello considered her posture silently a moment, thinking over her confession. "You told me you love him," he reminded solemnly, "as a friend, not as a lover."
"That's correct—he's practically my brother."
"Then you're not worried about how you'll react to seeing him, only that I'll get jealous if he gets too close?" She winced.
"You know, when ya put it like that, it sounds ridiculous."
"That's because it is ridiculous." He saluted her with his mug and a cocky grin. "Real men don't mind other men coveting their lovers, only their lovers coveting other men." Amber laughed and gave him a cheeky smile.
"Someone's been readin' Jane Austen, huh? An' here I thought you were more 1984 than Northanger Abbey." Her smile faded somewhat and she turned back to her tea. "I'll be honest with ya, Speccy…I don't see this goin' well. I'm dead in that world—we can't just expect that I'll be able to go back without any repercussions, even for a short time." Donnie studied her silently—from her brightly dyed hair to the faded traces of ink visible peeking up over her modest neckline—intent on burning the moment in his memory.
"You're worried about your loved ones, and until you know they're safe, you'll keep worrying about them until it breaks you." She nodded weakly. "I refuse to watch that happen, Amber Jean, not when I can do something to prevent it." He reached out, clasping a supportive hand on her shoulder, and she looked up to meet his eyes over her glasses. "I won't let anything happen to you," he swore, tucking a raspberry blue lock behind her ear. "Did you call the pizza parlor?" She blinked at him in confusion, but a moment later caught up.
"Yeah," she mumbled. "I got a week unpaid to take care of my 'family emergency' but they're cuttin' my hours for the rest of the month over it…an' if I'm not there early on my first day back I'm fired. Never thought I'd say it, but my boss is even more of a dobber• than my Da." She shrugged, torn between a smile and a cringe. "We shouldn't need a whole week—shouldn't even need more'n a few days—but I packed extra just in case." A frustrated sigh in the doorway drew the couple's attention—Mercy hesitated on the threshold, visibly torn. "What's wrong, Merse?" Mercy fidgeted, mussed her hair, then soldiered forward.
"I'm not goin' with ya." Donnie blinked in surprise.
"We didn't expect ya to," Amber answered slowly. "If—"
"Good," Mercy cut her off brusquely, "as long as we're clear on that. That world's got nothin' left fer me, an' I ain't goin' back." Amber and Donnie exchanged a confused glance, both hoping the other had answers and both disappointed to find they didn't. Recognizing their confusion, Mercy rolled her eyes and stalked over to the fridge to pour herself a glass of sweet tea. "Asshat's sulking," she grumbled as she fished out a tall glass. "He thinks I'm goin' back an' won't listen when I tell 'im I ain't. If y'all have everythin' together, please just get goin' before he demands to go with." Donnie couldn't quite stifle the snort of laughter that burst up his throat, and it earned him a sharp glare from the blonde. "Git."
"Well then." Amber pushed herself back from the table with a chuckle. "You heard the lady…guess it's time to get a move on, huh? Mind grabbin' the bags?" With a quick peck on the cheek, Donnie ducked out to collect the packed duffle bag and carry-on from his room, leaving Amber and Mercy alone in the kitchen. "I understand yer reasons for not wantin' to go," Amber told the blonde, "an' I respect them. Is there anythin' you want us to do fer ya while we're there? Anyone ya want checked on?" Mercy avoided her eyes.
"You know the answer to that," the blonde muttered dropping into Donnie's vacated chair. "The only people I ever really had any interaction with were you an' yer family, Aaron, an' my family…an' all that's left of my family's Ma. Anythin' material we were able to save from the ranch is gonna be with her, too, an' I ain't sendin' ya after anything. Better that ya don't have to deal with her."
"Ross." The blonde looked up, blue eyes wide and nervous, and registered her friend's tired eyes. "It's alright to wonder…it's alright to wanna know she's safe, even after everything she did to you." Mercy stared through the table with a bitter sneer.
"That obvious, huh?"
"Only to me." Amber settled back in her own chair. "I know you too well to not notice, Hon…an' I understand."
Mercy thought hard over her friend's words, distractedly reaching up for the beaded chain around her neck; just as the night Raphael's temper sent her fleeing to the park, she fiddled with the foiled sobriety chip dangling from it. It wasn't the same chip she wore when she and Donatello finally broke down and talked one-to-one—after all, she was well beyond her fourth month sober now, coming up on her ninth. Clarity Ross never even made it nine days without a drink… Denim blue eyes darted down to the metallic red chip in her grasp, contemplating it silently. Her mind made up, she twisted the chip free of the flimsy jump ring it hung from and tossed it to Amber.
"Ma had Ellis buried in the family plot. He'd want to know I'm alright…leave that for'im?" Amber visibly hesitated. "I'll be gettin' another one soon, anyway…I'm nine months sober next Friday." Mercy's lips quirked up in a humorless smile. "If you wanna check on Ma while you're there, I won't argue."
"Are you ready to go?" Donnie's voice in the doorway startled the two women, and, realizing he interrupted them, he gave them a sheepish smile.
"Yeah." Amber accepted the red foiled chip from Mercy and wrapped her in a tight hug. "I'll get this to'im…'til we're back, I'm countin' on you to keep everyone in line, a'right?" Mercy smirked and gave her friend a confident nod.
The odd family gathered in the hallway to the repurposed Barracks to bid their farewells; only Raphael was absent from the send-off, and Mercy was sure this was no coincidence. Armed with chalk and detailed notes, Donatello scribbled the ceremonial seals and a rough 'door' on the concrete wall before him, all the while muttering a quickly memorized chant. With the last stroke and the final word, the pasty white lines began glowing with a bright unearthly light then vanished entirely…along with the concrete between the lines. A pitch black void yawned before them, not even a speck of light to be seen. He turned to Amber, swallowing down his nerves. "This part's your job."
"What?" Amber squeaked, her eyes shooting over to meet Splinter's.
"Ordinarily, this ceremony would open a door directly to the Battle Nexus, but the destination can be altered through focused intent." The brunette turned to Donnie in confusion but he had no answers, so she turned back to Splinter. "Visualize the place you wish to arrive in," Splinter explained with a slight frown. "In your mind's eye, contemplate a location where your arrival will be both safe and unseen, in as much detail as possible." Amber glanced over at Mercy.
"What about the ruins between Aaron's house and your step-dahd's Ranch?" the brunette asked the blonde. "Were they still standin' after the storms?" Mercy nodded in agreement, and Amber turned back to Donnie. "The ruins then—the area's been abandoned since the Mason's cabin burned down in the twenties—ya never even find any graffiti there, kids're always too scared of the rumors." With every word, a tiny pinprick of light in the void grew larger and brighter, 'til it seemed like a light at the end of a tunnel. "That's not creepy at all," Amber mumbled edging closer to Donnie.
"Be safe, you two," Leo urged. Donnie and Amber bid their final goodbyes, both worried what they'd find on the other side. With a shared steadying breath, they stepped into the void, following the light to a world apart from their own.
Mercy watched solemnly until their backs vanished into the void, then even longer until the portal in the wall faded back into stained concrete. Long after the others were gone, she still stood there in the hallway, hoping, wondering, and dreading all at once. She couldn't shake the feeling that something was about to go horribly wrong—something about the whole plan to send Amber home to check on their loved ones sent chills down her spine. Eyes focused somewhere far beyond the stained concrete wall, she watched, waited, and worried.
Screw this…driving herself up the wall would accomplish nothing. Struggling to clear her mind, the blonde ducked into the barracks to retrieve her boots and jacket, then stalked out the side door. There was always something to be done in the garden, after all, and not much could clear her mind like yardwork.
In the open doorway to the massive green space the family created from the abandoned Railyard, Mercy paused, eyes locked on a familiar shape crouching beside a bed of struggling peppers. Raphael. He hadn't heard her, hadn't seen her, and for all intents and purposes, seemed too lost in his own brooding to register her presence. For a moment, she took advantage of her unintended invisibility; she soaked in the sight of him and contemplated her strange and wondrous reactions to seeing him.
Warmth blooming in her stomach—downy fuzz filling her subconscious—sweat-slicked palms and a fluttering pulse—a sudden and inexplicable urge to simultaneously laugh, cry, and sing—no other man was ever enough to make her lose herself at the mere sight of him. Never before had the mere scent of a man's sweat driven her to distraction. Never before had she craved the touch and taste of another the way she craved Raphael. A lifetime ago, she would have let him go without a fight; she would never have taken a chance on anyone for fear of proving her mother right. In this lifetime, she knew better…in this lifetime she had Raphael and she knew he'd never allow her to be hurt again, not while he still breathed. How did she get so lucky? Over four months had passed since Raphael opened his heart enough to let her in, but still, she didn't have an answer to that question.
Heaven, help me to surrender, she thought silently, eyes locked on the mutant who decided to be a better man for her. Show me mercy an' I'll never ask fer anythin' again.♦ Before she could fall further into reflection, she grabbed a wicker basket and loped toward the mutant ruminating over her peppers. By the time she sank to her knees in the dirt and commenced harvesting jalapenos, Raph was watching her in mute confusion. She didn't acknowledge him or greet him—when he was ready to talk, he'd do so without her prompting. Sure enough, he soon broke the tense silence.
"When's Donnie an' Amber leavin'?" he asked in a low rumble. Mercy shrugged, methodically digging through the foliage for ripe peppers and snipping them off with her shears.
"Ya missed'em. They're gone—been so 'bout twenty minutes now, I reckon."
Raph studied her seriously, combing through her words for anything that might have been lost in translation. He found nothing…even so, it didn't comfort him any. "Ya didn't go with 'em…they're goin' back to yer homeworld an' ya didn't go with 'em."
Denim blue eyes rolled. "I told'ja I wasn't goin' with 'em." Her unaffected expression pinched into a vicious scowl. The plant she was working with had some bug damage—from the looks of it, some sort of beetle. "Boris, yer lettin' me down," she grumbled pruninging off the damaged foliage. "Start earnin' yer keep or I'm'onna take a boot after ya, mark my words." The massive mutant beside her cringed, well-remembering the huge, hairy wolf spider Mercy named Boris and released into the garden. How he managed to stack up enough bad karma to wind up with a spider-loving woman when he himself fea—er, hated bugs was quite beyond him.
"I don't get it." The grumbled words drew her eyes to his. "Dat world's yer home—yer a country gal, Merse, but yer stayin here, in da city. Why?" He shook his head with a scoff, quickly riling himself up for a fight. "Ya should'a gone with'em! Ya don't belong here, Kid, ya—" With lightning-fast reflexes, Mercy whacked him on the shin with the pruning shears; his pained bellow was quickly followed by a snarl and scowl as the indignant mutant clutched his stinging shin.
"I told'ja I'm stayin'," she reminded shaking the shears at him like a scolding finger. "I ain't changin' my mind, not fer all the cows in the world. This's my home now—yer my home now, ya meathead!" She rolled her eyes and turned back to her task. "Quit tryin'a chase me off before I give ya a reason to want me gone." Raphael stared at her, half stunned, half confused, and entirely speechless; Mercy paid him no mind, instead, falling to grumbling at him under her breath. "I also told'ja they're jus' goin' back to make sure no one's offed 'emselves but did'ja listen? No, no one ever listens to Mercy." After a few more grumbled complaints, Raph finally worked up the courage to interrupt.
"Yer sure, Merse?" His hazel eyes swept from the frayed knees of her jeans to her messy blonde hair and over every inch between them. "Ya got a chance to live in da country again—ya could get out'a da city." He shook his head, sunk onto his backside on the dirt-strewn concrete, and dug his fingers into his stiff neck. "If ya stay here, in da city…Babe, I can't give ya everythin' ya deserve, not when we're stuck livin' underground." The blonde pinned him in place with her eyes like a bug on a display board.
"What exactly is it ya think I deserve?" she demanded. "Safety? Security? Happiness, love, a reason fer tryin'?"
"All'a dat!" Raph flung one arm wide in exasperation. "All'a dat an'—" She cut him off again.
"You a'ready gimme all'a that, Raphael," Mercy insisted. "I feel safe with you—I feel secure in yer home. Ya make me happier than I've ever been, an' gimme a reason to keep tryin' an' keep fightin'…" A hint of pink darkened her cheeks and an uncomfortable cringe twisted her naked lips. "As fer love…I love you, ya love me, an' that's more'n I ever thought I'd have. Maybe ya can't gimme cows an' country air more'n once in a while, but yer worth it, ten times over."
Muddy brown darkened the pale skin around his muzzle but he wore a wide, lopsided smirk. Crossing his legs, he patted one bulky thigh; when she accepted the invitation his smirk spread into a grin. The peppers, the cows, and the other world were all but forgotten as the two lovers clashed, first at the hips, then at the lips, neither content with being apart any longer than necessary.
"I love ya, Raphie." Mercy smiled into the crook of his neck, amused at how his pulse thundered against her lips. "Ain't nothin' gonna change that. Quit waitin' fer me to run off, okay?" A rumble of tentative acceptance vibrated against her shoulder.
"A'right." Still, Raph hesitated, carding his thick fingers through her mussed hair. "I think ya ought'a go home for a lil' while, anyway," he admitted. "Ya got family an' friends dere…it might do ya good ta go back fer a visit, you know, get some closure 'er whateva it is Donnie was talkin' 'bout earlier."
"No." The denial was surprisingly vehement, and he eased her away to study her expression.
"No?" he asked.
"Make that a fuck no," she corrected with a scowl. "Amber's checkin' on Willis, Raph, an' other'n Willis, the only other person I ever cared about in that world was my Ma…an' ain't no way in Hell I'm goin' back to 'er again!" The massive mutant said nothing, but Mercy felt that nothing was a rather infuriating way of saying something. "I made that mistake too many times a'ready—I died determined to never go back to 'er again!" She winced, reaching up to clutch the ever-present sobriety chip from her necklace, only to recall its absence and let her hand fall uselessly over her knee. Of all the times to need that reminder, she had to need it when it was worlds away. "I've finally got the balls to live my own life, Red," she summed up. "If I go back to 'er anyway, I'll have died fer nothin'…an' I can't take that."
Raph considered her words a silent moment, gently petting her messy hair, then spoke his mind. "I find it hard ta believe ya ever lacked balls, Kid. I gotta feelin' ya had plenty'a will ta fight, ya just didn't think ya had nothin' worth fightin' for." A rough, callused fingertip curled under Mercy's pointed chin, urging her to meet the amber eyes a little above hers. "Yer worth fightin' fer," Raph swore leaning down to rest his brow on hers and hold her eyes. "It ain't gotta happen anytime soon, an' ya won't go alone, but someday, ya really need'a face 'er again, just ta prove yer stronger than she is…yer not alone, Sweethaht…ya'll neva be alone again as long as I'm breathin'."
Touched, choking up, Mercy stole his lips in a hungry, wanton kiss, leaning into the scarred palms cupping her jaw and gripping the small of her back. Even as she let her feelings sweep her away and threw herself headlong into the wonder that was Raphael's softer side, she struggled against silent doubt. She'd rather walk barefoot through the hottest depths of Hell than ever see her mother again, but even now, she was held back by the years of abuse she suffered at Clarity's hands. If she never faced Clarity again—never confronted her demons—how could she ever move beyond her fears of intimacy and shame? More so, if she were to face Clarity again, would she emerge stronger than before, or would it entirely break her?
The salty-sweet lips against hers had no answers, and neither did she, but for the moment, she was totally fine with that.

UP NEXT: Another time, another place, and Amber's still freaking out in Absolutes Part I: Crossing Worlds is Impossible

♦ "Heaven help me to surrender / Show me mercy, please believe me / I will never ask for anything again" – "Give Me a Love," Sixx: A.M.
• A "glaikit toonser" – Scots, glaikit– stupid and toonser – someone from the city. (Compare to cliché 'city-slicker' or Southern 'dumbass Yank.')
• Dobber – Scottish slang for fool, stupid person, or in this case, dickhead. She's using the latter definition.
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MIT: Denial