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English
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Part 6 of Modern '87 Verse
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Published:
2023-08-09
Words:
739
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1/1
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18
Kudos:
36
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Vulnerabilities

Summary:

Shredder has a crush. And it has a greater influence on him than he’s willing to admit.

A supplemental scene for the end of "Save You Save Me."

Notes:

When I started this series, my plan was for the story to be told strictly from April's perspective. And then I woke up one morning with this scene in my head just begging me to write it down. I considered inserting it into "Save You Save Me" while editing the final draft, but really didn't like the POV changes that would require and decided it was best to keep it separate.
Suffice it to say Shredder's feeling are . . . complicated.

Work Text:

“One of those turtles is going to figure it out before much longer, though.  Probably Leonardo. He’s the smartest one of that bunch.”

Her reply was sluggish, words slurring together slightly.  “Donatello would be highly offended by that.  And you’re wrong.  It’ll be Michelangelo.”

“You think so?” He asked dubiously.

“Mmhmm.  Think I have a bit more insight in that area than you.”  He could hear her shifting beside him and waited until she’d stilled again before asking his next question. 

“And how do you predict they’ll react when they find out you’ve been lying to them for months?”  When she didn’t respond right away, he assumed she was giving the question an undue amount thought.  The longer her silence stretched on, the more his impatience grew.  “Miss O’Neil?” He prompted, glancing down.  Her eyes were closed, her breathing deep and even.  She was asleep.  Since that effectively put an end to their chat for the night, he took it as his signal it was time to go.  The sun would be up very soon anyway, which would make it harder to sneak away undetected.  Harder, not impossible.  But why subject himself to that trouble if it wasn’t necessary?  In truth he should have left hours ago, after he’d observed her emerge from that alleyway and cross the street to her apartment building.  Seeing her return home had been his sole purpose in coming here; remaining beyond that had been unnecessary.  But he couldn’t deny it had ultimately been to his benefit.

He paused before departing to look down at the slumbering reporter one more time.  She looked so vulnerable lying there in that worn old sweatshirt that was much too big for her.  Plus, the fool girl had fallen asleep with her head tilted back against the edge of the wall as if daring someone to come slit her throat.  Maybe he should oblige her.  She was becoming far too much of a distraction, a vulnerability of his own he could ill-afford to have. 

His gaze drifted from her neck down to the delicate hands resting in her lap – odd to use the word delicate when referring to someone with such a sharp tongue and feisty temperament – while he thought back to that night at Apex Industries.  Distraction indeed.  This whole day could have been avoided if he’d simply walked out and left her instead of trying to be clever with that dagger.  Though reflecting on it now, he supposed he could have taken her along with them.  Doing so would have solved a few other problems as well.  Oh well, live and learn.

She didn’t stir as he knelt and scooped her up over his shoulder – a task, he couldn’t help noting, that was much easier to accomplish without her struggling for once.  Had she been awake she would certainly have hurt herself as they descended the fire escape.  Probably hit her head.  Would have served her right. 

The rumpled state of the bedclothes spoke to the difficulty sleeping she’d mentioned earlier.  The sheets were all twisted and the heavy quilt askew, most of it hanging off the corner of the mattress.  He laid her down carefully and covered her with the thin blanket that had been bunched into a ball and shoved to the edge of the bed.  She sighed and rolled onto her side, nuzzling her cheek into the pillow, but didn’t wake.  He reached out and brushed away the bit of hair that had fallen across her forehead, finally satisfying the desire to feel those soft waves slipping between his fingers he’d been harboring most of the evening.  Yes, quite a distraction.

It didn’t feel right leaving without some sort of farewell, but he wasn’t going to wake her up for that.  She’d just berate him for daring to set foot in her apartment instead of appreciating he hadn’t left her up on the rooftop.  He spotted a little spiral notebook on the bedside table - because of course she’d have something as quaint as a notebook lying around - and tore out one of the blank pages in the back.  Using the pen hooked into the wire, he wrote a short message and left the note on the table for her to find in the morning. 

He lingered by the window a moment to cast one last look at the woman sleeping soundly on the bed, then slipped out into the remains of the night.

 

 

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