Being The Best of The Best
Disclaimer - I do not own TMNT or any of the characters therein. Some VERY rich dude does.
Rating - Mature Audience Only
Story Warnings - Emotional distress, Swearing, Insults, Human bashing (Don't like these topics? Do not read!)
Pairings - No pairings, just brothers supporting brothers. (Do not like? Do not read!)
Universe - 2003
Ages - Leo, Raph, Donnie, and Mikey are all teens before they discovered the Foot.
Summary - He may not be able to live as a human, but Raph is determined to prove he's just as good if not better.
Author's Note - The world record for the mile run by a male is 3:43.13, run by Hicham El Guerrouj in 1999.
Being The Best of The Best
Life wasn't fair.
Anyone over the age of five knows that.
It's really just a question of how unfair YOUR life happens to be.
If you happened to be a mutant turtle, life was pretty fucking unfair.
Humans bitch about losing a job promotion to some wet behind the ear, fresh out of college, preppie, yuppie, millennial, pick your word, up and coming wannabe who's ten years younger than them.
Try not being able to go the fuck OUTSIDE in daylight! EVER!
Dumbasses!
They bitch about getting a speeding ticket for doing eighty in a school zone Tuesday morning at seven forty-five, and are therefore so late getting to said job they didn't have time to stop and get their double decaf mocha latte with rainbow sprinkles, and their double fruit, cinnamon danish with extra cream cheese icing.
Try having to scrounge through dumpsters and garbage cans for what little food you did happen to get, then having to split it between five people.
STUPID dumbasses!
Humans didn't know jack about being life's toilet.
He sure as shell did, and he wasn't about to let it stop him from doing a damn thing!
He would never live above ground. He would never know what it was like to have so much food he could thoughtlessly waste it. He would never travel farther than where the sewer tunnels ended.
He would never be anything more than a mutant turtle.
Regardless of the unfair circumstances life had seen fit to dump on him, he was a helluva lot better than any damned human.
And he was sure as shell going to prove it!
Keeping stride, Raph checked his stopwatch. He had just passed the halfway point of his 'track' three minutes faster than his best time.
Feeling pleased, he tucked the timepiece back into his belt pouch.
His training was paying off.
In two more days, when the Olympic track and field competitions were held, he was going to prove he was the fastest being on the face of the planet.
No one would ever know, it would never be announced over public media, but he didn't care.
He'd know.
His family didn't get it. They simply couldn't understand why he needed to do this. Why he needed to prove he was faster than a human.
He had to give them credit though, they tried.
Splinter thought his hot-headed son was on some self improvement kick. He was, in a manner of speaking, just not in the way Splinter thought. And that was okay.
So, in true Splinter fashion, the rat let his son know he was available however Raph might need, but otherwise left the emerald turtle pretty much to his own devices.
Mikey was the most agreeable. His baby brother had respectfully set aside his comic, listened as Raph explained what he was going to do, then simply said, "Cool," and went back to reading.
Raph caught the jokester dismantling a rather elaborate prank set up in the garage shortly thereafter.
Donnie, as usual, had been curious, asking Raph why he felt compelled to attempt to outrun the Olympic competitors in the mile run.
Raph's reply had simply been, "Because I'm better."
Donnie just nodded knowingly, handed him a stopwatch, and reminded his brother to come see him if Raph injured himself in any way.
Later that night Raph had found a stack of papers in his hammock containing the bios of every runner who had ever clocked a four minute mile, or less since 1954. 'It helps to know your competition,' was written in the upper corner in Donnie's neat handwriting. Followed by, 'If you hurt yourself, and don't come see me, I'll give you a new definition of the word 'hurt'. You know I can."
The genius had added a smiley face to take the sting out of his words, but Raph knew Donnie meant every word.
Leo was immediately and openly supportive, or so Raph thought.
After listening to his brother's explanation, Leo asked a few pointed questions, along with some simply curious ones, then offered to accompany his brother on his runs.
The emerald turtle just shrugged, and told Leo he could if he wanted to.
The next morning, he wasn't all that surprised to find his oldest brother waiting for him at the lair's entrance. He was however surprised at the absence of his other brothers.
The pair ran in silence, Raph paying attention to his pace and breathing, and Leo paying attention to whatever Leo paid attention to.
The next day when Raph headed out on his run, Leo wasn't waiting.
That did surprise him, and left him feeling a little bit disappointed. Though he refused to admit it.
As he ran, he gave his emotions free rein, and by the quarter mile point his surprise and disappointment had turned into royally pissed off.
This was his thing. He got that. He didn't expect his brothers to do this FOR him. Hell, he didn't even expect them to do it WITH him. Sure, it would have been nice to have company when he ran, but he by no means expected it. Or needed it.
What he DID expect, and need, was a little active support. Not momentary interest and curiosity.
Little did Raph know, he was about to discover just how much of his brothers' support he really had.
He faltered a bit in his pacing when he noticed. Then he stopped, staring at the ground around him slack-jawed.
The tunnel was clean.
There wasn't a single piece of trash anywhere. No old beer cans. No bits of plastic. No pieces of broken wood. No old food wrappers.
No nothing.
And not only was the tunnel clear of debris, it was also relatively dry.
It hadn't been overly wet the day before when he ran, but there had been some residual water running in the low places. It was all but bone dry now. And in only twenty-four hours. That was impossible.
Unless...
Forgetting about his time, Raph trotted back to the closest cross section of tunnel.
There is was, as plain as the beak on his face, undeniable proof of his brothers' whole hearted support.
A small waterproof barrier was positioned at the opening of the adjoining tunnel. It wasn't designed to hold the water back, but rather to redirect it along the side of the tunnel away from the center space where Raph would be running.
And sitting to one side, clear of the water's run-off were five bulging trash bags. The big black ones contractors used.
It had obviously been Leo's idea. The water barrier screamed Donatello, and Raph couldn't see Mikey not joining in.
While Raph slept last night, his brothers had been out clearing the tunnels.
They did it just for him.
He felt like a two inch asshole.
When he got back to the lair, only fifteen minutes later than anticipated, Raph confronted not only Leo, but all three of his brothers about the changes in the tunnels.
They didn't deny it, how could they? No one else would have done it.
Why would they deny it anyway? They were his brothers.
"We wanted to give you as fair a playing field as possible, Raphie," Mikey said, trying to be nonchalant about it, but his excitement kept eeking through.
"Olympic athletes have the most advanced equipment, and medical treatment at their disposal. You have only us."
Raph blinked once then pulled his genius brother into a crushing hug. "Dat's more dan enough fer me," he growled, pulling Mikey and Leo into his bear hug as well.
"It's not a question of IF you can beat them, Raph," Leo mumbled, mouth pressed against an emerald toned shoulder. "It's a question of how badly you beat them. I know you can do this."
Raph was at a loss for words. What did you say in the face of such devotion.
Now he didn't have something to prove just for himself, but for his entire family.
And by damn, he was going to do it!
For two months, Raph's life became a continuous training routine.
He would run in the mornings, always with at least one brother, but usually with all three. After breakfast there was practice in the dojo, followed by his normal workout. Donnie would then give him a quick check-up for any minor injuries, and send him was off to the hot tub for a soak.
The afternoons were left open, like always, to make any needed repairs around the lair, or on the rare occasion there were no repairs to be done, to simply relax, and hang out.
Raph took that time to rest if he wasn't needed elsewhere.
His brothers made certain he wasn't needed elsewhere.
Evening patrols were still made, though Leo was quick to call it quits if the night was overly quiet. And every night, without fail, one of his brothers would offer to massage Raph's legs, ensuring the emerald turtle had a restful night.
The all too frequent nightmares had become a rare occurrence.
Finally!
The day had arrived.
Time to see if all his training, all his hard work, all the sacrifices his family had made, had paid off.
The Olympics were in full swing, and the men's mile run was being held that morning.
Raph was ready. He knew he was ready. He had done everything he possibly could to be ready.
He had this.
Then why did he feel like he was about to throw up?
"Ready to do this, bro?"
Mikey clapped him on the shoulder, and Raph damn near came out of his shell.
"Switch to decaf, man," his baby brother laughed. "You'll end up with an ulcer before you're legal."
"Stuff it, shell-for-brains!"
He was so nervous, he couldn't even come up with a decent comeback.
Donnie walked up laptop in hand. "The race begins in one minute, Raph. Time to get on the starting line."
As Raph took his place on the 'starting line' Donnie had rigged up his fear and excitement faded away, replaced with the calm of complete focus and concentration.
Everything stopped.
All of existence funneled down to that one moment.
Muscles tensed. His breathing became deep and regular.
Waves of sensation similar to what he felt right before a fight flooded him.
"GO!" Donnie's shout rang out, reverberating off the walls.
Raph burst off the starting line, running for all he was worth!
The second their brother was out of sight, Leo looked expectantly at Mikey. "You got it?"
"I got it!" Mikey grinned.
"Got what?" Donnie asked, eyes locked on his computer screen.
A conspiratorial grin passed between youngest and oldest. Not only did they have a surprise for Raphael the emerald turtle had no clue about, they had also kept said surprise a secret from the family bloodhound.
"Well, we figured since the Olympic winners get medals." Mikey picked up a bag tucked in the shadows behind him. "Raph should get something too." He reached inside pulling out a shiny gold statuette mounted on a dark walnut base. "We couldn't get him a medal, but we found an old runner's trophy at the junk yard, and cleaned it up."
Donnie looked at Leo.
"All Mikey's idea," the leader grinned proudly at his baby brother.
A smile curled Don's mouth. "And an excellent idea at that."
Mikey's cheeks darkened. That was high praise coming from Donnie.
"Might I suggest whatever your plans may be, my sons, you hurry," Splinter said stepping out from the kitchen. "I believe your brother will return in less than two minutes."
He ran.
His feet pounded the cement floor of the tunnel.
He poured every ounce of speed he had into every step.
Each breath was measured to provide maximum oxygen to his straining muscles.
He was so very thankful for his lifetime of conditioning training, though he'd never admit it.
Well, maybe to Splinter. Leo, never.
Late at night, in the quiet of his darkened room when everyone else was asleep, and there was no chance of anyone hearing his thoughts let alone his mutterings, was the only time Raph had dared to admit winning this race meant something to him. In front of his family, the emerald turtle acted as if beating the human competitors was no big deal.
All show.
As the day of the race drew closer, he began to admit winning meant a lot more to him than he had allowed himself to believe.
But he had no idea just how much winning meant to him until that very moment.
He needed to win.
As much as he needed air to survive, he needed to win this race.
Why?
Because he needed to find some meaning, some purpose in life. More specifically, in HIS life.
There had to be some reason, some higher purpose for the existence of himself and his brothers than chance and circumstance.
The reason for Splinter's mutation and existence was obvious, it was to raise the four mutated turtles he called 'son'.
But the brothers? Why them?
Why not say, kangaroos? Rabbits? Or Guinea pigs?
And why four? Why not seven? Or three?
There had to be some reason why Fate, God, the universe, Karma, pick your word, chose them.
He doubted he would ever know.
And he was okay with that.
Because with Splinter being the rat that he was, he created a reason.
He made them protectors.
Protectors of those who couldn't protect themselves.
A regular guy couldn't protect himself against gun wielding scumbags.
That's where he and his brothers came in.
To be a true protector, you had to be better. Better than those you protected. Better than those you protected against.
You had to be the best of the best.
That was what he was out to prove.
What he needed to prove.
Protectors of the general populace they may be, but Raph had something far more important to protect.
His brothers.
His brothers protected the people.
He protected them.
It gave him a purpose, a higher reason for living than protecting those who would hate him if they knew of his existence.
It gave him a reason to continue to endure the unfairness life seemed fit to heap upon him.
And if life didn't like it, life could kiss his emerald green ass.
And get the hell out of his way.
"I hear him! He's coming!"
"Then get your shell down here, and hold the other end of the tape!"
Mikey took position on the opposite side of the tunnel across from Leo, a strip of yellow caution tape stretched between them. As Raph rounded the final corner they began chanting, "GO! GO! GO!" as their brother pounded down the straight away.
Donnie crouched behind Leo, stopwatch in hand, eyes fixed on the heavy, blue, chalk line drawn on the tunnel floor. The second Raph's foot touched down past the line, Donnie pressed the button, stopping the count.
"TIME!" he shouted, somehow drowning out his brothers' excited voices.
Raph shot past his family, running a short distance down the tunnel before coming to a stop. Mikey was instantly all over him, pounding on his shell, pressing a bottle of chilled water into his hand, and draping a cool towel over his head.
Nothing had ever tasted so good as that bottle of water in his entire life.
"D'I beat 'em?" he managed after catching his breath.
"Donnie's checking the results," Leo grinned. "You know how he is."
So he walked to cool down, and waited. Mikey walked with him, extra water in hand. Leo stayed close, hovering between Donnie and Raph.
"I have the results," Donnie finally announced after what felt like an eternity.
"D'I win?" Raph had never been long on patience.
"No," Splinter held up a hand stopping Donnie's reply. "We shall do this in true Olympic fashion." The ninja master stepped aside motioning to a tiered stack of wooden crates similar to the Olympic podiums where the winning medals were presented. "Leonardo, if you will."
With a great deal of pomp and circumstance, Leo checked with Donnie before taking Raph by the elbow and steering his brawler brother to their makeshift podiums.
Leo stopped in front of the lowest crate, but motioned to the highest. A huge grin blossomed on his face, "You won," he said.
"Not only this race," Donnie added. "But you now hold the world record."
Raph looked wide eyed at Donnie. A smile began to appear as the true meaning of his brother's words began to sink in.
He had won. He was the fastest being on the planet.
He was worthy to be the protector of his brothers.
His family.
His life.
Splinter cleared his throat. "Take your place, my son."
Still in a bit of a daze, Raph stepped up on the crate.
Mikey stepped up, hands behind his back, digging a toe into the floor. "Umm, we couldn't get you a medal, or anything cool like that," he said, suddenly embarrassed. "But we thought you deserved something."
Raph looked at the small trophy his brother held.
It had a few dents in the metal. A chip on the base. Something Raph knew had come from the junkyard. But at that moment, it meant as much to him as his sai.
Maybe just a little bit more.
Thanks for reading.