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Have you ever wondered what your love story would be like with your favorite TMNT turtle? No? Well come read and find out.
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8. When You Meet Again: Raphael

(R/G)’s POV

I was breathing heavily as I punched the sand bag that hung in front of me. I was angry and frustrated today, exhausted from the workload from school and the stress I had at home. Not to mention, the fact that I was stressing out over that fact that since I had been attacked by the Purple Dragons, the streets had been quiet and I hadn’t received any assignments from the Tigresses of Yin.

As I let your frustrations out on the sandbag hanging from the ceiling, I all but tuned out the encouraging words that my trainer provided me with. He had no knowledge of my life outside the gym, and I wanted it to stay that way. It was for my protection, my family's protection, and to keep the existence of the recent "friends" I had just met. When I kept the existence of Raphael and his brothers a secret from my grandfather, I later finalized that decision and decided not tell anyone of there existence. 

I had even decided against going with my instinct of telling my sisters who had saved me from the purple dragon's attack. But, with the similarities between myself and my sisters' stories, I couldn't help but feel that my grandfather would eventually find it suspicious, if he didn't already. With all of the stress that was against me at this moment, letting my anger out on an inanimate object seemed like a good idea. But in the long run, it only made the stress worse from causing me to realize my problems in life and the fact that life wasn't always perfect like it is portrayed to be in the movies. 

In spite of the way that I seemed to trying to mercilessly beat and murder the sandbag, my trainer decided not to question me about it. It was quite frankly, a normal occurrence for my trainer to see me come into the gym, face red and breathing ragged. I would glare at him and he would nod in understanding. Then I went and beat the crap out of the sandbag. 

Without thinking, I started to incorporate my martial arts into the normal routine that I were currently doing. My trainer, caught by surprise, was thrown back by the sudden, powerful round house kick that I sent in the sandbag's direction. My trainer let go of the sandbag, causing the force of my powerful kick to make the sandbag swing on it's chain that held it to the ceiling. 

When the sandbag came back towards me, instincts and reflexes kicked in. In reaction of the simulation of an enemy charging, I grabbed the sang bad and without knowing, pulled too hard on the already worn hinges. The chain holding the bag up creaked and groaned loudly, catching my attention and brining me out of your fight or flight response. My trainer and I watched the sandbag warily, praying to god that it wouldn't brake. 

But as it was, karma had it in for me. The chain snapped and I dodged out of the way as the 100 IB, cylindrical sack of sand came barreling towards my small form. After the sandbag came to a stop next to a treadmill, my trainer sent me a look that seemed to say: "How the fuck did you do that?". I rolled my eyes and then closed them in order to try to calm my breathing to a state where I wasn’t majorly pissed off to the point where I was destroying quality workout equipment. Using the breathing techniques that my grandfather showed me to control my anger -- which I hardly ever even used -- I tried to calm my raging nerves that were on fire with the fight instinct playing through my body. Eventually I gave up though, the emotions too great in size and power for me to control. I let out a shriek of frustration and anger before angrily stomping to where my bag was, grabbed it and walked out the door fuming. 

As I trudged through the streets of NYC, I muttered to myself about my troubles. It was so freaking aggravating that none of my family members understood how I felt! I crossed the street and then walked into Central Park. As I started down the path, I failed to notice the black suited ninjas that were tailing me from above all amongst the tree branches that lined the pathway I walked on. I was too much focused on trying to figure out my life problems and calming my uncontrollable rage to notice anything going on around me for that matter. 

I walked past a bench and kicked a stray, dented can into the side of a trash can that stood next to it. I then stopped and sighed, running a hand down the side of my face. Without anymore mumbling or muttering to myself about my aggravations, I silently sat down on the bench and pulled my knees to my head. My nerves calmed a bit after a few moments of silence and slow breathing. However, the introduction of an unusual wind that almost smelled too mellow to be normal caused my ninjitsu training to kick in and my senses become alert and aware of my surroundings. The area of Central Park I was in had suddenly become quiet, almost too quiet for my own personal taste.

Looking around I slowly took a few, cautious steps forwards from the bench and into the paved pathway. The silence unnerved me, making me extremely cautious in choosing my next actions in the following moments. I then slowed my breath, making me as silent as possible. Only taking a short inhale and exhale of air every other second, I waited silently for about five seconds before finalizing my decision to sprint away. However, my plan was foiled when in a drastic turn of events, seven black suited ninjas fitting the description that (M/G) provided for my grandfather jumped down from the trees above and surrounded me.

Saying that I wasn’t surprised by the appearance of an enemy is an understatement. Obviously, now that I was no longer grumbling about over my problems and aware of what was going on around me, I knew that someone was trailing me. The factor of the situation I was in that I didn’t expect, however, was the enemy was one that my sister had witnessed. To put it simply: I didn’t expect my enemy to be ninjas, even if they practiced the same arts as me. I was about to find out just how much of an adversary these ninjas were to myself and my family, and I didn’t plan on losing to them either.

A/n- Imagine that this would be the end of a chapter in a normal fanfiction or the cliffhanger of a TV episode before a commercial break. There’s gonna be a pretend break. Okay?

I stood my ground as I went into a defensive stance, prepared to fight off the enemy. The fight passed in slow motion through my vision as it proceeded. I fought the ninjas off one by one, while also defending my body from the ones who were attempting to pin me to the ground or land a hit on me. I threw a sharp, quick, and powerful uppercut punch into one of the ninja’s jaw which caused him to barrel backwards into his comrades who were attempting to regain their footing on the ground.

It wasn’t until the goggles of one of the ninja’s masks lit up with a bright red light that I was taken by surprise. My vision went blurry and I was swept from my feet by a low roundhouse and I landed harshly on the pavement underneath me. My back was surely scraped and bleeding from the fall, but I didn’t have time to worry about that, I had seven enemies who were beating the hell outta me. I quickly did a back hand spring off the ground and flipped back up onto my feet. My back was definitely bleeding profusely, for I could now feel the warm liquid called blood running down my back.

I then noted that from the fall, one of my jackets had yet again, been torn to rags. I had been at the gym earlier, so naturally I was only wearing a sports bra underneath, and once again, my Tigress of Yin tattoo was put on full display for the enemy to see. It had been a instant decision and I didn’t even think before pulling off the ruined garment and letting my secret free to the known world. I twisted around to try to get a look at my back. Sure enough, I was right, I was bleeding. There was a large scrape along my lower back that went all the way up to the back strap of my sports bra. There were several bruises accompanying the scrape from where the enemy ninjas had landed hits on me.

I looked around at the black-suited ninjas who were all either limping a bit or clutching their arms and shoulders. I wiped some blood that was running from my eyebrow and lip then looked at the blood that stained my fingers. “Well, how about that?”

“You’ve ruined my face! Now how am I gonna get a date for homecoming?” I grunted with sarcasm as I landed an uppercut and a right hook on two enemy ninjas that tried to advance on me again. But as I was focused on the ninja’s who were trying to advance me, I failed to notice that they were making a team play and had decided to play dirty. After the two ninjas that I punched went unconscious, I was congratulated with a large rock to the back of the head.

If I though my vision was blurry before, it was nothing compared to what my vision was like right now. Blood was rushing to my head and I became dizzy, dizzy enough for me to lose my sight for a few seconds as well as my balance. I crumpled to the ground, my vision went black and I passed out.

I didn’t know how long I was out, but I awoke to the sound of metal crashing against metal. I groggily sat up from where I was laying on the ground and the first thing that I saw when my vision returned and cleared up was Raphael, the one and only mutant turtle I knew that had a temper short enough and dangerous enough to rival my own. He was fighting off one of the black-suited ninjas, and from what I could tell all of the other ninjas were knocked out cold, and probably wouldn’t awaken for a few more hours.

Raph stabbed the ninja he was fighting in the face and before I could yell for him to not kill the man, sparks shot out from the ninja’s body, signifying that it was not in fact a human. It was a robot! I groaned and held the back of my head which was still bleeding only not as heavily as before. My back had scabbed up a bit and my bruises ached and made my body sore and made it painful to even move from my sitting position.

Raphael turned and looked at me and smirked.

“How’s it going twinkle toes?” I asked. “Still afraid of little old cockroaches?”

Raph’s cocky smirk turned into a frown.

“That’s the best you have to say to me?” he asked incredulously, crossing his arms in disappointment. “No, ‘Hey Raph, thanks for saving my butt!’,?”

I groaned and lay back down on the ground. I closed my eyes briefly and then turned my head to look at him with a half-lidded, tired and weary gaze.

“Hey, thanks for saving my ass today Raph. It was really…” I trailed as my vision got dimmer and dimmer.

I didn’t hear Raphael’s worried shouts as I passed out on the Central Park pathway, covered in blood and wounds.

{a/n}-

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