I don't own the TMNT

A/N: I don't know what possessed me to write this. Normally Mikey fics are not my thing. Maybe it's because I'm in the process of writing a Mikey romance and I've got him on the brain. Who knows? In any case, hope you enjoy this!

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The land stretched before him. Stark, bold lines. Deep shadows, everything seeming so dark, so sharp. As if when you step into it, you were stepping into another world. An alien world. Harsh and foreboding. The wind tore through the air, whipping the cloak around him until it jerked in the air. The dust kicked up, pelting his skin. Yet he continued on, knowing that he had no choice, until he neared the crest. When he approached the peak, he slipped, skidding down the ground, the sharp rocks digging into his skin. Gritting his teeth, his fingers dug into the soil.

The cries got louder.

His family. They needed him.

Heart thudding in his chest, scrambled to his feet. Then he ran faster. He had to get to them. He was his family's only hope for rescue. For survival.

Skidding to a stop at the top of the crest, the warrior squinted his eyes as he looked across the windswept plain. For a moment he couldn't see anything through the haze of red dust. Then, slowly, through it, he could see it. There was the building. A shiny squarish thing, a massive window in the front. Surrounding the place that held his family imprisoned they were there. They were the mightiest of ninjas. So bold that they wore robes of stark white, their images so unkown that they were never seen, forever shrouded in their cloaks.

But nothing could stop him on his quest. Steeling his features, he pulled out his nunchuku, sliding down the crest to meet the warriors. As soon as he came to the bottom of the crest, he ran across the flat, hard ground. For a moment the warriors didn't move, then in a flurry of motion, they sprinted to meet him.

The chucks in his hands whirled faster, the wood whistling in the air. Then, muscles bunching, he took a mighty leap towards them. "BOOYAKASHAAAA!"

They met with a clash of bodies.

He was like a dancing demon. He was everywhere. Twirling, whirling, a mighty mass of fists, feet and chucks, he rained blows down upon them. His feet scarcely touched the dirt before they were in the air again, so quick was his movements.

The warriors met him blow for blow, the flapping white robes billowing around him until he seemed like he was in a sea of white.

He took their blows bravely, gritting his teeth through the pain he returned it tenfold. One by one, he struck them down. Anything to get to his family, to rescue them from the cruel fate that was to be wrought upon them from these fiends.

Then, finally, he stood there, panting in the harsh climate, his fallen foes littered around him. His muscles trembled slightly from the exertion, sweat beading on his skin, countless wounds slowly sapping his strength.

He heard the whisper of cloth followed by the snap of it catching in the air. Looking up, he saw the mightiest of warriors. Immediately it was obvious that the rest of the ones that he had just worked so hard to fall was just the warm up.

But this wasn't going to give up. No matter how injured, no matter how exhausted. His strength of will was just too strong. Grinning, he lifted his chucks once more. "Wanna dance?" He taunted.

The warrior, forever silent, stood there, white robe snapping in the wind. Then, without any betraying movement, he darted forward almost faster than the eye could see.

He met him with a grunt, feet skidding backwards from the sheer force of it. The pristine white robe whipped around him, encircling him by itself. But it continued in a way that was not right, it was downright supernatural. They covered him like a living thing. The cloth tangled in his legs, knocking him to the ground. His arms became bogged down, unable to fight back. Then it wrapped itself around his face, completely covering him. He barely bit back the scream. How could he fight this!

But he must. He must rescue his family.

The warrior must have sensed this, his laughter a whisper dancing on the wind. "Michelangelo…"

Still, valiantly he fought. He could not give in! Never give up! Never surrender!

"MICHELANGELO!"

Immediately the sheet tightened around his body. For a brief moment he felt the panic. Then, with a mighty thrust, it was ripped away completely.

Blinking, he looked up to see Splinter looming above him.

Uh oh…

Scrambling up to his feet, Mikey stood before Splinter as he towered above his young frame, head bowed.

Splinter fingered the sheet and gave a sigh, massaging his temples. "Child…I sent you in here to fold the laundry an hour ago. What in the world were you doing?"

A blush spread on his young cheeks as he looked at his toes. "Uh…I was…uh…"

Throwing down the sheet, Splinter looked at his youngest son. "Michelangelo. You are nearly eight years old. You are getting much too old to be doing this." Looking around, he frowned at the laundry scattered around the room. "You are not to leave this room until you are finished, is that clear?"

"Yes Master Splinter." He mumbled.

Just then a small crash sounded from somewhere on the opposite side of the lair. Biting back a curse, Splinter gave him one last glare before marching out of the room. "RAPHAEL! Your brother is NOT supposed to bend that way!" He slammed the door behind him.

Letting out a small sigh, Mikey surveyed all the stuff before him. Then he picked up a fitted sheet and flapped it in the air to straighten it out so he could fold it. Eyes wide, he watched as the corner flapped in the air.

Just like a sail on a mighty ship, coursing new territory on the stormy seas…

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A/N: So what did you think? Did you see it coming? Haven't written a chibi story since The Loose Tooth. Hope that you guys liked it! Please leave a review and let me know what you think!