Chapter 46: A New Kind of Life

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It's weird for both of them. They hardly talk save for short snatches of conversation. Destiny is almost always on edge around Diaval, he's silent and distant around her. Their interactions amount to very little at first. Diaval doesn't seem to mind it. Destiny feels as if she's about to lose her mind. After all, she had lived in the lair with the turtles for a while and the turtles are a lot more talkative than Diaval.

The nights are the worst. The serum is most effective when they sleep, and even when they're hundreds of miles away from the Shredder and New York, his hatred infests their already disturbed minds. Diaval, whom hardly sleeps as it is, lies awake most nights with his itching eyes on the ceiling. He falls asleep when exhaustion takes over, his magical energy draining as it twists and festers into some sort of sentient being, bent on making Destiny's nightmares even more terrible than they already are.

It's on a night like these that he first feels it. He lays on his bed, arms hooked behind his head and one leg kicked out from under his blankets. Destiny's already asleep and has been for an hour or so.

She whimpers. It's soft at first, but the noise grows. Diaval turns his head to her as her fingers tighten around the blankets, ears tucking back. Her cries get worse. She mashes her face against the pillow, her legs curling into her stomach as if making herself smaller will save her. He stares for a moment before looking away. It should go away soon enough, or so he believes.

It doesn't. The seconds tick by and she's still crying into her pillow, somehow remaining asleep through it all. Every pained noise she makes is another jab against Diaval's chest.

It's his fault that she's like this, he thinks. To make it worse, he's not doing anything to help her now.

He waits for any sign that she's getting calmer, but none comes. He exhales heavily and pushes himself up from the bed, looking over at her as he shoves his bangs out of his eyes. He takes the few strides across the small space to her bedside and stares down at her, face blank but mind a little more than so.

She's so young, far younger than he is. There's only four years between them and yet she's still very much a child...or at least she should be. He knows most people her age haven't experienced even half of what she has and yet...she's experienced far less than he has. He's not a child anymore. He feels like he stopped being a child by the time he was eight years old.

She might have a chance to be a kid, even if it's just for some things. Could he possibly protect what little she has left?

He focuses. Her desire reaches out to him like the warmth that comes off a fire. It's a stark heat, obvious in its presence. She longs for Leonardo to be with her, to remind her that her dream world and reality are two very different places.

Diaval looks down at his hand, taking in the rough, scratched skin and the fingertips rubbed raw from years of archery practice. He's only ever used his magic to show people desires and use it for his own good, but...

"Haf'ta try," he mumbles, curling his long fingers into his palm.

He relaxes his hand and reaches out, touching his fingertips to Destiny's shoulder. He shuts his eyes and focuses every ounce of attention on her desire for the warm, strong comfort of a mutant turtle with eyes the colour of sapphires. He opens his eyes and sees what she sees.

She's back in the lair. There's a knock at her bedroom door and she sits up, wiping tears from her face.

"Y-Yes?" she stammers. There's slight confusion on her face but it doesn't linger long.

The door opens, casting a pool of light across the floor as the silhouette of Leonardo appears. He tilts his head as a gentle, calming expression floods his unmasked, sleepy face.

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