.
Disclaimer:
The TMNT and TMNT universe is property of Nickelodeon/Viacom Entertainment, based on characters created by Kevin Eastman and Peter Laird. The character of Taylor is property of DeviantArt user itachisgirl303 (see link below). The story is non-profit and for the fans.
http:/itachisgirl303[DOT]deviantart[DOT]com
Warnings:
Rated T for mild language, violence, alcohol use
Genres:
Action, Drama, Angst, AU (SAINW)
A/N:
This is a story I wrote for the 2011 TMNT Secret Santa group on deviantArt. My recipient requested two things, one, that the fic feature some "family moments" and two, that it featured her OC, a teenage girl with various superpowers by the name of Taylor… who just happens to be the adoptive sister of the ninja turtles. Now don't hit that back button yet! Haha… I know this sort of thing turns many people off, but the truth is, Taylor is not a bad character at all, and I think she worked out quite well in this story. It was definitely a challenge for me because truthfully, she doesn't really jive with the types of characters I normally write. But as I went along with this, I found that I really enjoyed her and I especially enjoyed having her there as someone for the guys to play off of.
This story is set in the SAINW universe because again, it was something I knew that my SS recipient was a fan of (and I am an enormous fan of) and I knew it would satisfy the more darker elements that often show up in my fics. If you're a fan of SAINW, give it a chance. I tried to do a lot of service towards that element as well, filling in a few holes and answering questions that weren't answered in the show. It is my favorite episode of the 2k3 series. What can I say, I'm a sucker for anything dismally societal or political; dystopian, post-apocalyptic, tales of revolution/rebellion etc.
Enjoy, and thanks for reading!
- ds
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Like When Autumn Leaves
by demonsweat
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-chapter 01-
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She awoke in the dark, but not in completely unfamiliar territory. She wasn't afraid because she knew this place. It was home.
Or close to home, at least. As Taylor blinked back the grogginess, it was obvious that she was in the sewers, the sound (and smell) enough to give her that familiar feeling, even if her eyes were taking their time to adjust. She sat up slowly, stretching and working out the kinks. It felt like she'd been lying on the hard stone for some time. Strange enough on its own, but even as things came more into focus, she couldn't determine exactly which tunnel this was, or how far she might be from the lair.
She stood, shivering a little at the chill in the air. She was dressed lightly, in her usual training gear it seemed, long black pants and halter top. That meant training, or maybe fighting. Was that what had happened? Maybe she'd been knocked out, she couldn't remember. She felt her head and around her body, looking for mysterious injury but as far as she could tell, she felt fine. And if it had been a fight, then where were her brothers?
She reached for her phone but found it missing. She crouched, feeling along the ground and thinking perhaps she'd dropped it, but again there was nothing there. With no other options, Taylor began to feel her way along the sewer wall, heading for a small bit of light in the distance. Maybe this was some elaborate prank of Mikey's? Maybe, but it didn't feel like a joke. She told herself not to worry just yet, she'd sort this all out once she was topside.
When she pulled back the manhole cover, she could see that it was nighttime, the light offered through the small holes in the iron lid coming from a single, cracked street lamp above. She pulled herself up with ease, taking in the area around her. It looked like she'd surfaced in some sort of construction area filled with junk; an industrial scrapyard, perhaps. As Taylor walked past the large piles of scrap metal, buildings crept into view, but none she immediately recognized. In the distance, she could hear a low humming sound, above but faint, as if it were coming from somewhere far away. Finally she spied what looked like the exit to this place and she headed for it, making her way onto the street. There, she froze.
Something wasn't right. This didn't look like New York City. Where was she?
Two figures, just across the street, turned suddenly in her direction. They were dressed strange, head to toe in long black coats, heavy boots and wearing gas masks. Her first thought was that they were in costume for something, a themed party perhaps. Until her mind registered the guns they were carrying. Not props, yet not any type of gun she'd ever seen before.
Without hesitation, the two began walking straight at her. Taylor took a step back. "Stop, citizen!" one of them spoke, holding up a hand. As menacing as they looked, he at least sounded official. She attempted to ask them for help.
"E-excuse me? I'm not sure where I am -"
Closing the gap between them, the one that had spoken loomed over the top of the young girl. "Present RF chip for scanning," he said. He held out a small device.
"What?"
"Present RF chip! Now!"
Unable to process what he was asking for, she just looked at him dumbfounded. He suddenly reached out and grabbed her roughly by the arm, twisting it until her wrist was exposed. He ran the device over the top of it. After moving it back and forth a few times, the man turned to his companion. "I'm not getting a read. We'll have to run this one in." The other masked man, standing close by, raised his gun. That's when she saw it. Around each man's bicep was a strip of red cloth, emblazoned with the symbol of the Foot.
Taylor gasped. She didn't understand what was going on here, but knew one thing – these men were her enemies.
With inhuman speed, she reached out and grabbed the barrels of each weapon. These didn't fire bullets, she knew that at a glance, even if her powers hadn't allowed for that knowledge the second she touched the metal. Instead, she sent a shock through the weapons, frying the power sources on each. The men cried out, trying to fire, but the guns were useless. She didn't wait for them to recover. While they were stunned, she brought her hands around, palms outwards now, and pushed a large, telekinetic blast towards the men themselves, sending them backwards and sailing through the air. She turned and ran, tearing down the street and towards what she could see was a darker, more shrouded area. Better to get into the shadows, she thought. Maybe she could make her way back into the sewers from there.
As she sprinted, she tried to comprehend what had just happened. Who were those men, could they really be with the Foot? And what was this place? Maybe they'd kidnapped her and brought her here?
There wasn't time to try and figure it out. She rounded a bend, past the chunks of concrete and gutted cars littering the street and saw safety ahead – a dark stretch of road where the lights had long since been broken or given out. She pushed forward to it, intent on getting hidden. Before she made it, the world exploded in light. Light everywhere, coming from above. She looked up, trying to shield her face, but was blinded by it. That humming sound was deafening now and it was obvious that some sort of aircraft must be the perpetrator. Before she could make enough sense of it to run, she caught the silhouettes of men dropping down on lines from above, descending on her position.
Her legs finally caught up with her and Taylor started running again, back in the direction she'd come. But it was too late. The street was blocked by a dozen or more of those same soldiers, the ones in the black coats and masks. They didn't even look human. They might not be, for all she knew; there wasn't enough of them showing in order to tell and if she hadn't heard the one speak, she might have really believed they weren't. They shouted at her to halt, that she was being arrested. In perfect formation they began to march on her, their guns at the hip and pointing directly at her.
She took a few breaths, trying to calculate her next move. She might be able to blast a few but she wouldn't get them all. And that still left the ones behind. She was trapped. Still, whoever these guys were, they were working for the Foot, and that meant one thing – they weren't getting her without a fight. She raised her hands, readying her attack.
Before she could send the blast however, something incredible happened. As she watched, one of the soldiers fell with a scream, followed by another, and another. Taylor couldn't see the reason why, it was as if some invisible force was attacking them. The rest of the soldiers, finally catching on that something was wrong, turned to face their new attacker. Whatever it was causing it, she didn't want to waste this opportunity. She whipped around in an instant, blasting the foes behind her. Several were knocked off of their feet but the remaining few opened fire. She ducked down, trying to head for cover, getting behind a slab of concrete.
As she pressed her back against the cold stone, she got a look at the first group again and whatever was attacking them. Her breath caught in her throat. It was one of her brothers – Mikey, she thought, but it was hard to tell. He didn't look like himself; he was still wearing orange but the mask was different, it covered the whole head like the ones they'd worn as children. He was wearing strange armor and it looked like he was only using one nunchaku for some reason.
Not by choice. She gasped. He was missing an arm. Cut off just above the elbow, Mike's left arm was completely gone.
Michelangelo rolled, ducking the hail of gunfire and letting it rip through the remaining few foes he was engaged with. He got behind his own cover several feet from her; a place from which two small objects came sailing through the air, the resounding explosion seconds later eliminating the last of the men on the ground. Without missing a beat, Mike tore from his hiding place and tossed another two grenades skyward, hitting the aircraft. He turned and grabbed Taylor by the arm and dragged her from the area, shoving her to the ground behind a gutted Buick just before the explosions went off. The searchlight that had been flooding the area immediately winked out and the craft sank to the ground with a fantastic din, rumbling and shifting everything around them.
Having been lying over the top of her and letting his shell take the brunt of the debris, Mike finally sat back and looked at her closely for the first time. There, behind the rusted car, with men dying and bits of aircraft burning all around them, Michelangelo saw the sister he'd thought dead for three decades.
"Oh my god… Taylor!? Is it really you!?"
She blinked. "M-Mikey? What is this? What happened to your arm!?"
He didn't reply. All at once, Taylor felt herself pulled into him, pressed so tight it hurt. "I can't believe it," he mumbled, "after all these years…"
Confused, she tried to pull away from him. "I don't understand -"
"We can't stay here," he said, cutting her off. Looking into the sky, he listened for the sound of the drones, gauging the best route to take. "C'mon, I'll take you someplace safe."
The trip back to the hideout passed in a blur. She couldn't believe what she was seeing along the way. The city looked like a warzone; buildings crumbed and fallen into disrepair, citizens (few that there were) dirty and homeless, huddled together for warmth. And the noise of the remote drones and planes overhead, always there, always searching. It was terrifying. She didn't know what had happened, but she knew one thing – this definitely wasn't home.
~.~
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He insisted that she stay silent and watch her movements as they made their way through the maze of underground tunnels. It was too dark to see but he held her hand, leading her to a place she didn't know.
Finally he stopped, mumbling something about it being safe enough. Mike pulled out a small light, shining it over the area in front of them. They were in a subway tunnel, though it didn't look much better than what she'd seen above ground. Several yards ahead, Taylor could see more than one overturned subway car, lying jackknifed and blocking most of the tunnel. Mike led her around the mess, weaving between the cars. There, nestled between them, was a door in the side of the tunnel, one he began pounding on.
A panel slid, and a small window appeared, the light from it shocking even against their small flashlight. A pair of eyes filled the space, looking them over. "I'm waiting," a voice said from the electronic box to the side.
"Your mom barks at midnight. Dude, open up. You know it's me."
The sound of locks shifting could be heard. The door opened a second later, a skinny, ragged man in his mid-thirties there, his face partially obscured by a hooded jacket and scarf. He held a large rifle, not too unlike the ones Taylor had seen the Foot soldiers carrying.
"You could humor me, you know," the hooded man said. Mike stepped in, motioning for Taylor to follow. "Who's the girl?"
"Don't worry about it," Mike said, "she's with me."
"Mike, you know I can't just let her in without clearance -"
"I said she's with me!" Mike snapped at him. He kept walking towards the stairs. Taylor followed and despite her shock at this whole scene, she was also suddenly taken aback by Mike's demeanor. She'd never known Michelangelo to have such a severe tone, he sounded like a different person almost.
"I'm radioing the Commander!" the man called out after them.
"I'm going to see her anyways!" Mike barked again, over his shoulder. He kept going up, with Taylor on his heel. The whole situation only served to fuel her unease, as she wondered where he was leading her.
They wound around several more corridors, Mike nodding and addressing a few more people along the way. Eventually they came to another set of steps, these leading downwards. As they descended, Taylor noticed that the walls around them were becoming more unfinished, looking more cave-like. At the bottom, Mike flipped open a metal box on the wall and hit a switch. The small cavern lit up but was mostly bare, save for a single, metal platform on the end. He told her to watch her footing, and with the press of another button, they began lowering down.
After a few seconds of darkness the makeshift elevator rested itself on the bottom floor, settling in what looked like a subterranean studio apartment; small and a bit claustrophobic, it immediately reminded Taylor of home. So much did it look like the lair, right down to the color of the brick used on the walls. Upon closer inspection, she thought the look wasn't natural; these walls had been stained that way.
She stepped in, taking a closer look. It wasn't just reminiscent of the lair, but Mikey's room even, though something struck her as odd about it right away. Everything here seemed so much more solitary. One chair at the table, one controller stuck in an ancient-looking game device (ancient-looking as in worn and dirty, it wasn't a system she recognized), one set of weights in the corner. It had a tiny kitchen area and bathroom, every comfort their lair had once had. There were colorful posters tacked unevenly to the walls and bits of junk scattered about, books and magazines and even an action figure or two. But if there was one caveat to this idea of solitude, it was the beds. Instead of a single, Mike's room had bunk beds. It seemed a bit strange in contrast to everything else but she didn't think too much on that until later.
For now, she was just taken by the room itself, so familiar, yet so foreign to her. There was no doubt that this was Mikey's living quarters, but how was this possible? Why was he here, why was he living like this? When she turned, he was just standing there, staring at her without a word. So intense, and so not like himself. She felt overwhelmed by it all, so much that she didn't know where to start. Looking him over, she noticed a sizeable gash on Mike's arm.
"Here," she said. "Let me help with that." Placing her hand over the wound, she closed her eyes, concentrating. A light green glow emerged from between her fingers as the cut sealed itself.
Looking down at the place where the wound had been, Mike whispered, "It really is you. Little sister."
She looked at him sadly, touching the metal cap on his stump lightly. They both knew her healing powers were limited, she couldn't regenerate whole limbs. "Mikey what happened to you?"
He grunted, heading for the fridge. "Was about to ask you the same question. You want something? I don't have much, but I got beer." She shook her head. She'd never touched the stuff, and it felt strange for him to even ask. He grabbed one for himself and kicked back the wooden kitchen chair, sitting down in it heavily. He never took his eyes off of her. "Why don't you have a seat." He motioned for the only other one, the bed. "We got a lot to talk about, looks like."
All of the sudden, a crackling sound startled the both of them, coming from a place on the wall. Mike jumped up and hit the intercom there. "Yeah!" he shouted.
"Mikey, Randall said you brought in some unauthorized civilian. Now we talked about this, I'm sure she's really nice, but for the sake of the mission you can't go bringing every one of your girlfriends back here for -"
He pressed the button, cutting her off. "It's not like that Ape. It's - it's Taylor. I found Taylor."
There was a long pause on the other end. "Taylor your sister? Are you sure?"
He looked hard at her, like he didn't completely believe his next statement. "Yeah, I'm sure. I'll bring her up in a little bit, we need to sort through some stuff first."
"Okay. Just make sure you come see me, before anything else."
"Will do."
He sat back down and cut straight to the point. "Okay. So where've you been all this time?"
She shook her head, confused. "All this time? I – I don't know what you're talking about. The last real thing I remember is, um…" She pressed a hand to her forehead trying to think back. "I think being in the lair… I was heading out for groceries, or something…" She looked back up at him. "I'm not really sure. A little while ago I woke up in the sewers, I don't know where. I came topside and found this," she said, turning a hand upwards and looking around with the same expression of disbelief that had cemented itself to her face since this began. She started to shiver a little. "What is this, what's happened to everything? Did – did the city get nuked, or something?"
Mike just stared at her dumbfounded. He lifted his beer, downing the rest and looking off into space, as if he didn't know what to say. Finally, he asked, "Why were you running from the Foot?"
She told him the obvious answer, that they were the Foot, of course. After he pressed her for details she told him of her encounter with the strangely dressed men, how she didn't recognize them at first, and how the soldier had done something to her arm.
"So you don't have a chip," he said to himself. He stood, going for another beer.
She watched him, unsure of why she was getting the third degree. As uncomfortable as she felt, there was still some solace in the fact that this was her brother. He was definitely Michelangelo, there were little signs everywhere, in the way he talked and his body language, even if he did seem changed (and even if he wasn't a five-foot tall turtle). But he looked so different, she couldn't get over it. Besides the obvious reasons, such as his clothes and missing appendage, he also seemed older to her. Much older. She had so many questions of her own, but she started with the most important one.
"Where are the others?"
Mike sat back down, cracking open the can and taking a long pull from it. "Well, Raph's got a hideout underground, near the East River. These days he mostly runs raids on the shipments coming across from the east end. I haven't seen him in a while. Leo…" He took a breath, letting it out slowly. "I'm not sure where Leo's at right now. He moves around a lot. Last I knew, he was still involved with this shadow group, one that split off from our north side chapter. They've been hitting the armories up there, trying to stop all the weapons coming in. We just heard about one on the feeds last week, they took out a central processing center for the Foot's bioweapon program."
She blinked, her head reeling with the amount of information. "So – wait. Are you telling me you're not together anymore?" She couldn't believe what she was hearing. She'd expected Mike to say they were out, that they were away doing something else at the moment, not – whatever that was. Just how much time had passed since she last remembered? Things began to click, the single apartment, Mike living alone – her family, disbanded? She'd lost time somewhere, maybe she'd been drugged or knocked out, kidnapped maybe. It didn't make sense. "Where's Donnie?" she asked, the only question that she could muster.
"Donnie…" He paused, regarding the can for a few moments, before finally taking another drink. "We lost him. After we couldn't find you, he sorta freaked and went looking for you himself. But he never came back. That was almost thirty years ago." He looked up at her suddenly, awe in his voice. "And here you are, not even aged a little bit. You don't look a day over eighteen… just like the day you left."
Her jaw dropped. "Thirty years! It's been thirty years!?" He wasn't joking, she could see that. "H-how?"
"I dunno," he said, shaking his head and looking off again. "I don't know. But I'm really glad you're back, Tay. We thought you were dead. I always wondered though. I thought maybe you got taken back to one of those other dimensions, the ones you used to talk about. I didn't – well, I didn't wanna believe what the other guys said, y'know? But after so much time… it's hard not to think the worst." He turned away from her, clearing his throat a little, trying to keep it together. "I'm… just glad you're back," he said again.
Thirty years. She just couldn't comprehend it. But if anything pulled her back to reality, it was the way Mike was acting. There was something about him, the desperation in his voice; it was a little bit of the Mike she remembered seeping through. If what he was telling her was true, then it certainly answered a lot of questions about why everything, including her own brother, seemed so different to her. She looked at him, trying to understand that this was Mike, thirty years older. Changed, but again, evidence of the old Mike was there, right down to the very room they were sitting in; so much a throwback to the old days, yet so uncharacteristically cut off from everything else.
She paused, bracing herself for the answer to her next question. "What about Sensei?"
Mike's expression was enough to tell her. She couldn't hold it back anymore at that. The tears spilled over, fast and hard. Mike told her, "He went out protecting us. He always believed you were still alive. Donnie, too."
Deep sobs tore from inside her. It was all too much to take. Somehow, thirty years had passed, leaving her behind. Her brothers separated and missing. And her father, gone. She'd never had a normal life, never known the love of parents or siblings. Not until she'd met her adoptive ones. And strange as they were, they were every bit the family she'd always hoped for. The old rat had been nothing but kind towards her, taking her in and showing her every bit of attention, even training her alongside his sons. Her heart broke for him; her father, her sensei, whom she loved.
Mike seemed to think about it for a second, then finally stood and came over to the bed, sitting beside her. He didn't have any words for her. It was too weird, all around. Weird that she'd just show up out of the blue like this, but having to break all of this news to her was almost too much for him to handle. He wrapped his arms around her, letting her have it out and thinking back, thinking over times he hadn't thought about in many, many years.
As she started to calm down, she said, "I – I need to see the others. Leo and Raph – I want to see them."
Mike nodded. "Okay. There's ways. I can track 'em down. I know they're gonna wanna see you, for sure." He stalled there a second, not sure of himself, but pulled her in suddenly, hugging her tight with the same intensity as their first encounter. He laid a hand on her head, letting her nuzzle beneath his chin. "Little sister," he said. "This is crazy. I can't believe you really came back to us."
After a few moments Mike regained his composure a little. He sat back, looking her over. "C'mon," he said, squeezing her arm a little. "We gotta go upstairs and see April, so she knows you're not a spy or anything."
"April? Our April? She's here?"
"Yeah." Mike grunted a small laugh. "That was her on the intercom, I guess you didn't recognize her. She uh, looks a lot different than you'd remember, too. Lots more wrinkles and grey hair. But don't say anything about it or she'll get pissed."
They headed up after that. Taylor was still in a reasonable amount of shock at the whole experience, but found herself adjusting. At the very least, she felt fortunate that she'd encountered one of her brothers. The thought that she might have awoken in this nightmarish world alone and unprepared made her feel nauseous. But things had turned out well, considering. And she had Michelangelo to thank for that.
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