Author's Note: This is one of the bonus stories for my "Reflections" series. The events in this chapter take place after "Reflections," the events in the next chapter will take place after "Reflections of my Former Self," and the third and final chapter will be set around and after "Reflections of my Future Self."

If you haven't read one or any of those stories, never fear! This really is just an introspective on Raphael's feelings about romance and relationships.

Enjoy!

October 9th

I ain't a writer.

I've never been one to talk about my feelings or nothing. And using a pen to make these small, sweeping motions hurts my hands. Gimme a sai to slash through something, and I can go at it for hours. Tell me to make a specific set of patterns with a writing utensil, and I'm more likely to make you wish you never made the suggestion.

So why am I writing this? Why am I sitting here while the guys are watching TV when I could be rousing one of them into a bit of sparring? Probably because if I tried to do that, I'd be tempted to bash either Mikey or Don's head in.

It all started when we met this kid on the street, named Allison. She wasn't nothing special; just your typical stupid chick who decided to walk down the streets of Brooklyn at night. Not saying she deserved to get a group of thugs chasing after her, but you gotta admit that there's some poetic justice to it. Stupid girl walks down a dark alleyway, something bad happens. Yeah, it makes my stomach turn to think about it, but that's what I was thinking as I was pulling the whole rescue bit.

And then I got shot. If you ask me, it wasn't nothing. Just a hunk of metal lodged in my chest. Could've been worse, right? The guys should've just dragged me back to the lair and called Casey to bring me some kinda meds, and I would've been fine.

But then the girl… Allison… she got up after stabbing one of the punks in the arm and getting slapped across the face with a gun… and she said she knew where she could get some med supplies. And she said she was willing to do it to return the favor. We don't get many people returning favors… especially not when this "favor" ends up costing them a bit of blood. The only conclusion I could draw is the simple one: it's so dark outside that she don't got no clue what we look like. If she did, she would've run away as fast as she could.

I was fading in and out of consciousness back at the lair while we waited for Mikey to bring back the stuff the girl bought. When he finally came in, he told us that he had brought her back. Apparently, the Rat King attacked them, and she pushed Mikey out of the way of a bomb, getting knocked out in the process.

Just… who the shell does this kid think she is? I mean, I'm grateful, yeah. Mikey's a pain in the neck, but it would've been bad if that explosion blew him to bits. But she's just a kid. …even if she is almost seven years older than me. And even after knowing what Mikey looks like, she went ahead and jumped in the way of a bombfor him?!

Anyway, as time kept going on, I began to realize that I'm growing to respect her. That don't happen too often, especially not with people that I just met. And especially not with someone that I had thought of as just some dumb chick. Aggravating as she might be sometimes, she's proved that she's got a head on her shoulders.

And I guess… I don't know… something happened. I was pretty drugged up at one point, and I guess I was telling Donnie that I'd grown attached to her… and he took it the wrong way. And then he told Mikey. And then he told her. And then she left.

You can't blame a guy for thinking that that was why she left. I mean, yeah, she got a job in California, making a movie, living the dream, and all that junk. But… she knew. She knew how I felt… or, I mean, how Donnie thought I felt.

At any rate, I went to see her a couple of days before she left. Gave her a new switchblade so she could protect herself from the crazies in Cali. And she gave me a script of the movie she's making. Or a treatment draft or whatever it is they call them rough copies. I read it over while sitting on her rooftop and… I began to think… I don't know. Maybe I've rubbed off on her as much as she's rubbed off on me? She kinda made it clear that I was her favorite of the guys, but… is it that weird to think that she might have actually… I don't know… fallen for me?

It has to be weird, right? I mean, the very thought's kinda sick and twisted. She's a human. I'm a turtle. She's got practically a decade on me in the age department. She's got talent, drive, a bright future, a nice smile….

Oh. Oh crap. And I wrote that in ink. Crap. Time to find a good hiding place for this book before Mikey uncovers it and decides to give everyone a dramatic reading.

October 16th

Donnie just checked his e-mail and said he got something from Allison. Said that she got to LA just fine and was almost settled in her new place. Sent us some pictures and said we could visit whenever we happen to find ourselves out in the West Coast.

She sent one picture of her, moving a box of books into the apartment. Don "accidentally" hit the print button when that one came up, and "didn't notice" it when it finished printing. It's been staring at me from across the room all day. Even though he's just sitting there typing, I can tell that he's just waiting for me to walk on over and take the picture. Probably half-expects me to tape it up in my room or something. Funny guy, that Donatello.

At least he's a bit more tactful than, say, the Battle Nexus Fruitcake over here.

October 17th

Funny thing, about that picture of Allison. It wasn't in Don's printer tray this morning. Not that I looked or nothing, but I just happened to notice. Anyway, I checked my room to see if someone stuck it in there as some stupid joke, but it wasn't there, neither. I wonder what Don did with it?

October 19th

I found out what happened to the picture. It led to one of them heart-to-hearts with Leo. And we all know how much I love those heart-to-hearts with the Fearless Leader. Especially when he's leading me into territory that's unfamiliar for all of us.

We was sparring in the dojo while Mikey and Don were taking a break. After a while, Leo says that I look "distracted." I tell him to shut up and fight, and he asks what I've got on my mind. Of course, I tell him that the only thing going on in my mind is watching him go down. He don't answer for a while, but then goes over to the book he was reading before we started training and took a page out of it. When he shows me the page, I see that it's the picture of Allison.

He claims that that's what's been on my mind for the past few days, since I've been "distracted" ever since she left. I told him that that was stupid; why would I be distracted over a dumb picture? On the inside, though, I gotta admit that I really wanted out of that room. It looks like just because no one told him nothing, it don't mean that Leo don't know what's going on better than even I do. And he wonders why I call him Splinter Junior.

He says that Donatello was gonna slip it into my room just for laughs, but he had asked for it instead. He figured that I'd like to have it. I'm already reaching out for it before I pull myself back. Damn.

He says that it's okay, though. Why wouldn't I want to look at her? I'll be thinking about her after looking at all the scars we got from our little adventure together, so I might as well have a picture. She's a cute girl, anyway. I smirk and tell him that maybe he'd like to keep it, and he asks what reasons he'd have to want it.

Stupid jerk. Somehow, that ended up getting me to spill my guts about what I really think about her and to clarify what I had told Don while I was drugged. By the time I realize that he managed to get me to say all the things that I swore I wouldn't even write about, I was already mostly done. Did I ever mention that I wish that I had been an only turtle?

We eventually sit down, and Leo tells me that we're likely to see her again once she's done filming. And if that was the case, maybe I should talk to her. Because no matter how unlikely it is that anything solid could come out of it, it'd be only fair that she knew.

That made no sense. The point is that nothing can come out of it. So if I know that, and he knows that, then she probably does, too. So if she don't feel nothing, why do I got to be the one to make a fool out of myself, huh? Why I should I try to be some pansy Romeo who discusses his feelings when the would-be Juliet would rather write science-fiction screenplays and make movies out of them? Hell, let her stick it out with Mikey, if that's what she considers a good time.

Leo don't say nothing for a long while. Seeing that I ain't in the mood to talk this out, he gets up and puts a hand on my shoulder, like some little brotherly contact's gonna make this all better. I'm waiting for the ball to drop. That great pearl of wisdom from our beloved leader. Lay it on me, O Noble One.

Instead of saying anything, he just turns and heads out of the room. "This is something you need to sort out yourself," he tells me. "I can't help you sift through your emotions if you don't want any help."

I… I can't believe it. Leo, admitting that there's something he can't do? What the shell? And what does he mean, "help?" I don't need his help. It's just a matter of forgetting about her, that's all. Of not thinking about her and forgetting that she exists, just like she'll eventually do with us.

'Course, it's kinda hard to do that when your brother just left a picture of her directly in front of you. I knew that if I left it there, Don or Mikey would come in and ask why her picture was in the dojo. So I couldn't just leave it lying around. Besides, it makes a good bookmark for this journal.

October 23rd

April came down with a group of cards that Allison sent for each of us. Mine has got a bowl of cereal on the front. I'm thinking it's an inside joke, since each of the cards made the guys smile like there was something between just them and her going on. And since no one's found where I hide this book, I guess it's safe to confess that each of those smiles made me just a little bit jealous.

I gotta admit, from the looks of things, the inside of my card's got the most writing on it. That makes me feel a little better. She basically just wrote about the work on her movie so far, saying that it should be out by the summer if all goes well. She said that if she could rent out a theatre in the city for a private screening, we could all get together and see it for free.

I'll probably never admit it, but that makes me just a little upset. The fact that she's got to go out of her way to set aside a whole theatre, just because most of the world won't be able to deal with real sci-fi creatures walking around a public movie theatre. It makes me think back to my conversation with Leo, and I remember why nothing could ever really happen between me and her. It's not like a girl would go out with a guy who can't take her to the movies.

Anyways, the note goes on to ask me how I'm doing. I can't help but smile a little when she says she misses me, and hanging around a guy who plays a character based off of me is making her wish that she'd stayed in the city. She tells me that we've already got a lot of catching up to do, even though she's only been gone for two weeks. "And if you don't write back about how many times you've saved the world since I've left, I'm going to see to it that you'll never find yourself an agent when you decide to become a world-famous stuntman."

Is it really possible to miss something so much when you've never really had it?

November 5th

Not much has been going on. Karai and the Foot have made some trouble for us, but that was easily enough dealt with. Oh, and Stockman tried yet again to exact some kinda cockamamie revenge, this time using April as bait. Needless to say, he didn't prove to be much of a threat, especially since he was trying to backstab Bishop while he was at it. Some creeps never learn.

It's sad that hostile takeovers only get one or two sentences apiece, but I've been going on for pages about some stupid brat in LA. Somebody put me out of my misery.

November 20th

April came down again with another message from Allison. No individual notes, since it didn't look like she had a lot of time. Basically, they finished casting the entire film and started read-throughs and rehearsals. She saw some of the designs for the CGI monsters, and she says that Mikey would probably approve. She included some pictures of some of the sets and other boring stuff. Again, only one picture of her was included in the batch.

Leo had been the one sorting through the pictures and gave me a weird smile when he handed me the one of her. I snatched it out of his hand, determined to just give it a glance before handing it over to Don. When I looked down, though, I saw that that was gonna be a little hard.

She's apparently been working out and beaching it up, so she's got toned biceps and an amazing tan now. And that ridiculous haircut of hers was growing out and was a little wavy around her shoulders. She looked good. Real good.

Don nudged me in the side, asking it I was gonna start a collage. I told him if he wanted to keep that arm, he'd just wait all quiet-like until I was done looking at the picture.

December 1st

Don came back from helping April in the shop and said that he spoke to Allison on the phone. She had apparently meant to call one of the actors about something, but called April's number by mistake. Don says that she sounded really tired and rundown. He also says that he told her I'd give her a hug to make her feel better, if I could. Needless to say, he lived to regret it.

December 20th

Kinda embarrassed to admit how excited I actually got over getting a Christmas card from LA this year. Mostly because, though the card didn't say much except for the standard greetings that she gave the rest of the guys, she actually included a letter. It fell into my lap, and I'm pretty sure that Leo's the only one who saw it. I hid it and decided to check it out once I was alone.

It was pretty short, and it looked like she didn't have a lot of time to write it. There's grass stains on it, so I'm guessing that she was writing it while on the set, between takes. She told me that I really need to look into getting an e-mail address, since it's a lot easier for her to get in touch that way. "Or are you just making it so I'd want to try even harder to get back to New York as soon as possible to talk to you in person?" Not what I was thinking, but she raised a good point. Couldn't help but laugh.

She said that she missed New York, that there wasn't no snow where she was. Little does she know that there ain't no snow here, either, but I ain't gonna burst her bubble. She sounded like she needed all the fantasies she could get. Turns out that she'll be working all through New Year's, since it looks like they've hit a snag. She didn't tell me what it was, but I doubt I'd know how to fix it for her. I kinda wish I did.

Leo came in while I was reading the letter, saying that April had brought a card to send back to Allison. If I hurry up and sign it before April left, she could get it to the post office before they closed and it might just get to her before Christmas.

He left me alone while I thought of something to write. From the looks of it, I'm the last one to sign it, and something tells me that Leo planned it that way, so no one would see what I had written. Smart guy, Leo. I can't decide whether to be annoyed or relieved by that.

So help me, I couldn't think of what to say. There were plenty of things I wanted her to know, but like I said, I ain't no writer. She is. She'd know how to say what I'm thinking, and how to say it like it sounds even deeper than anything I could actually think. Finally, I jot down, "Kid. Merry Christmas. Take it easy. Raph."

While I'm sealing the card in the envelope, I think I've might've spelled "Christmas" wrong. I feel like such a putz.

December 31st

No better way to end this year than with another sappy heart-to-heart. Couldn't really gripe my way out of this one, though. It was with Splinter, and I got enough respect in me to sit down and listen to whatever he thinks he needs to say. Turns out, I even learn something from him sometimes. That might be why we call him Sensei.

He calls me into his room this afternoon and I go in, thinking that he's gonna ask me what I've learned over the year and what I hope to change about myself in the year to come. He likes making us go all introspective and crap every once in a while.

Instead, he asks me about Allison. He wants to know if I've written to her as often as she's been writing to me. I guess I kinda go off on him, telling him that she hasn't been writing to me "often." All I've got is two cards and a letter, and she don't even e-mail Don as much anymore. She's a busy kid, so what makes him think she even got the time to read anything I'd write?

He don't say nothing for a while, but then asks how many cards and letters she has from me. Okay, so he's got me there. But I tell him that I ain't a writer. I don't do that whole, "Dear whoever, the weather's lovely over here," kinda crap.

Then he asks how many things has Allison written that wasn't in script form, that didn't include monsters or anything like that. I tell him that I don't know. He replies that maybe she isn't much of a letter writer neither, but she still makes the exception in the effort to keep in touch. Apparently, my "unwillingness to reciprocate" makes it obvious that something's wrong.

I tell him that it's nothing. She's a good kid, and she's got a good life over there. She probably don't wanna hear nothing from some turtle in the sewer. Besides, I'm just trying to forget about her. Otherwise… I'm just gonna end up hurting one or both of us.

He keeps quiet for a long time again. Finally, he tells me that he suspected as much. Damn, does the whole stupid world know? What'd I do when I was drugged; get out a bullhorn and announce it from the top of the Empire State Building? Or am I really just being that obvious?

And then he tells me the same thing his star student did. He tells me that he can't do nothing for me. Jeez, it's like I'm digging my own grave.

He says that she is a "good kid," and her life is good right now, but that don't mean that she ain't lonely. And the fact that she keeps trying to reach out to me tells me that she cares about me enough as a friend to single me out. And if I consider her anything more than a friend, the least I can do is let her know that. If she chooses to pursue something, then she'll let me know. If not, then it'll be obvious, and that'll make it easier for me to forget about her. It all depends on what I'm willing to do.

So what can I do? Sit down and write a letter saying, "Dear Allison. I like you. As more than a friend. What do you think about that?" Just… I don't get it. How do people do that kinda thing? Splinter tells me that the best I can do is to just be as up-front about it as I usually am about most things. But being blunt about this don't seem exactly appropriate. Especially considering… I'm taking a big risk.

Any stupid "feelings" aside, she's a great kid to have around. She's tough, she's funny, and she don't ever let her friends down. And if I scare her off by telling her that one of the mutants she's making a sci-fi movie about wants to be with her, then it's safe to assume that she'll find every possible reason to stay in California for a long, long time.

In the end, I decided that there's nothing else to do. Nothing but stick around and wait for her to come back. Once she's back in New York and I can talk to her face-to-face, I'll see if I can ease the topic into conversation. That way, I'll know right away. I won't have to kill myself, waiting for a letter that ain't ever gonna come. I can just see that look in her eyes, and I can know just how much she hates the idea, and that'll be it. Bye-bye, stupid feelings.

It hurts… but I'm kinda used to the pain. It don't look like the new year's gonna change that any.

February 1st

And the first month of the new year came and went without any news. Of course, we dealt with the Foot a few more times, and I'm pretty sure that we saved the city about three times and the world at least once. And at Don's last tally, we stopped about 25 petty crimes. The news I'm talking about it the only news that I can't really do nothing about.

Donnie did say he got a couple of lines from her today though, which is what made me remember about this stupid notebook in the first place. I read over his shoulder. Apparently, two of her actors cancelled on her, and they're trying to find some way to go about replacing them this late in the game. The script needs to be rewritten just in case they can't find nobody. And their budget's starting to get just a little tight. Don worries that she's depressed, since she ended the e-mail with, "Just wanted to let you all know that I'm still alive… for now, at any rate."

I marched into my room after that and took out some paper and a pen. I started about 30 letters, but tore all of them up after the first paragraph. If they didn't sound too wishy-washy, then I ended up snapping at her, telling her that if she does anything stupid, I'm gonna come over there and do even worse to her. I don't think sap or threats are gonna help her.

After a while, I went back to Don and asked him to send her an e-mail for me. He said that he'd take dictation, but I didn't want him using my words. He's the smart one; can't he know how to make what I want to say sound good? I fully expect him to start getting funny about it, but he just looks at me and says sure. I tell him to let her know that I'm worried about her, and that I don't want her doing nothing stupid. …and that if she needs me, I'm here. I really am.

He typed it up in his own words, and sent it after I read it over. I just stood there behind him, waiting for him to make a comment. He didn't. So I made one instead. I told him that if he told the others about this, I was gonna make him eat that computer.

February 3rd

She sent Don an e-mail back. "You mean Raphael actually cares? I'm touched." She then went on to say that if she didn't know me better, the next thing she would expect was for me to sing her a sentimental song and post it on YouTube. I hang out with a bunch of comedians.

February 19th

Today's her birthday. I think so, anyway. I had seen her driver's license back when she was still living here, and I'm pretty sure this is the date. I'd make some kinda acknowledgement about it, but the guys were bugging me enough about it being Valentine's Day a few days ago, so I ain't gonna set myself up like that. Besides, I don't really have a birthday or nothing, and there's no point in me getting her something if she ain't gonna give me something in return. Selfish, maybe, but them's the breaks.

March 5th

April came down, saying that Allison wrote her a note. It ain't even for us anymore; it's like she really is forgetting about us. Anyway, the note says that there was some big earthquake recently, and something's wrong with her servers, so she still doesn't have a reliable internet connection. That's why she hasn't e-mailed Don in over a month. As for not writing, she just don't have the time.

She apologized for it, but what the heck makes her so sure that it's something to apologize for, huh? Does she think we want to hear about her stupid movie problems and about the stupid movie stars she hangs out with and about how happy she is when she ain't being stupid? Do we really need to know? NO! She's just another member of the ninja turtle fan club, so what makes her think she's so special, huh?

March 6th

I just read over what I wrote yesterday, and then I looked at the picture of her that I've been using as a bookmark. And I think I've got it all figured out. I want her because I can't have her. It's the same way Mikey gets when he sees an ad for the newest video game and knows we won't be able to afford it until it shows up on the used bargain bin. And once it's on eBay, he don't want it no more.

Once she comes back, I'm gonna end up wondering why she got me all riled up in the first place. And if that's the case, there's no sense in me getting riled up about it now. I can keep looking at her pictures and keep thinking that she's a nice piece of work, but it ain't no different from a guy who keeps a picture of Jessica Alba in his locker. Not that she's a Jessica Alba or nothing… but she's pretty close.

So there's no point writing in this thing no more. Looks like the Chronicles of Allison are over and done with. Maybe I'll find something more important to write about now.

August 17th

Talk about ironic. I'm packing up to go to California, and I find this thing hiding underneath the dust bunnies.

The trailer for Allison's movie came out a couple of days ago. It looks all right, but Mikey came up with a "groovy idea," like he calls it. We've been begging Leo and Sensei to cut us a break, since we're right in the middle of one of New York's biggest heat waves. Long story short, the whole gang decided to conspire against me. We're taking a "vacation"… and staying at Allison's.

Not like she's called, or written, or e-mailed or nothing. And it's not like none of us have gotten in touch with her. No, they're just expecting to drop in and see that nice smile of hers as she welcomes us into her place. She's probably living with some guy who's trying to be the next generation's Tom Cruise and hiding behind a pair of those big expensive designer sunglasses while she walks a little French poodle down Sunset Boulevard. I'm sure she'll just love getting four unexpected mutant visitors at her door.

As much as I think this is a bad idea, I'd be lying if I said that I ain't the least bit excited. I mean, it's LA. Headed for a bit of a culture shock. And as much as I put her in the Jessica Alba category of unattainable things in my life, it'll be nice to see Allison again. Casey's been getting on my nerves; time to let some other poor sap feel my wrath for a change.