TMNT= Not mine. As always, my turtles are a mix of Mirage, NT and the fourth movie. Inspired by the random thought, "What would happen if the turtles, heaven forbid, ignored the stereotypical scream from a dark alleyway?"
It didn't come quickly.
Apathy is slow after all; it crept gradually into their souls as every night left them bitterer than the one before. Crushed dreams followed high pitch screams as they repeatedly sought out the worst of humanity and kept it from choking the weak and defenseless. The cycle was endless, interrupt a robbery, bust a drug deal, stop a mugging, leaving criminals tied up and unconscious for the police to find and scratch their heads over.
But it never stopped. Never ended. Sometimes they were too slow, too late, and someone wound up on the cold concrete, bleeding to death. There was a strange morbid fascination at the sight of blood sluggishly spreading across the moonlit pavement, the horrified realization that they had failed again. As it flowed across the ground and cooled in the night's air, something, it could have been hope, purpose perhaps, died along with it.
They had been children when they had started this. Playing hero and going out to save humanity from itself. Full of idealistic dreams and beliefs that they were really making a difference. But the nights grew longer and colder and they collected more battle-scars with every new encounter, both physical and mental. The children that had once believed that they could handle everything the world could throw at them quickly faded away.
The decision was not a conscious act, at no point did they ever actually speak and concur on it, it was a simply a natural development borne of a world weariness that had become far too disillusioned.
One night, four turtles ran across the rooftops.
There was a scream.
They stopped, but it was only for a second, a moment perhaps to acknowledge the people they had once been, the children who would have barrelled eagerly down that alleyway without a moment's delay. Eyes were held for the briefest seconds, heads titled questioning as they listened to sobs and panicked shouts. No one spoke, the moment stretched as they searched themselves for a reason to intercede.
Then, without a word, they gathered themselves up and continued on their run.