Back from the dead with a new story! This one for my recent interest, 2012 TMNT. And yes, 2012 turtles, but humanized, so does it matter...? Anyway, the beginning shouldn't be too big of a deal regarding 'inappropriateness' but there may be references to it later. I apologize if it makes people uncomfortable or is not felt to be suitable to rating. And Raph will drop occasional F bombs, warnings for later chapters.

NONTHELESS! I hope you enjoy.

I do not own TMNT!


The room was filled with a constant cloud of cigarette smoke, and the only noise that circulated through it was the chatter of wealthy old men dressed in the finest of business suits. It was a brick building that stood at a sturdy two stories high, deep in an alleyway in one of the nastier parts of New York.

Inside didn't look much more assuring. It was crowded to the brim with said fine wealthy men holding crystal glasses of wine with cigars in their stubby hands, some sitting at the cheap wood tables, some standing and fidgeting about, waiting for the show to start. In the center was a stage, curtains drawn back to reveal empty floors, but it was clear that there was more to come. The talking of the room dimmed to a heavy silence as a man clad in a black suit entered from behind the red fabric, grinning broadly at the settling audience.

"Welcome, welcome!" He exclaimed, his voice loud enough to not need a microphone. His hair was slicked back crisply, and he was a tall, lanky man, the quick rasp of his speech made being an auctioneer the perfect occupation for him. "Let's bring out the first ones, eh? We have some good ones tonight!"

His eyes glinted evilly as the crowd cheered at his last comment. Sure enough, with a wave of his hand, one by one of his latest catch were brought out, collared and chained with a bulky man holding each in place. The last one drew much interest from the audience, and the auctioneer himself.

"It seems this boy here has your attention." He smirked, moving towards the whimpering teen being held tightly.

He grabbed him by the chin, forcing his face upwards so his beautiful features could be examined. The boy had a mass of cherubic curly blond hair, falling in his face messily. His body was pale, but that was from lack of nutrition, which also explained his skin on bones exterior. Just above his nose sat freckles that stood out against his snow colored skin. But the most unusual was his baby blue eyes, which would have been innocent and bright if weren't for the current situation. He was adorable, in short, and looked the exact image of an angel, chubby face and all. But miserable.

He didn't dare speak as the man showing off his naked body to the audience, his lower lip quivering in silent protest. He was forced to his butt, and his legs were spread, the man explaining to the audience about his virginal status.

He was a virgin, which he now remembered. Now that the young boy thought about it, he didn't remember much at all. He faintly recalled his kidnapping, but that was pretty much it. Damn, he couldn't even remember his name or age. He felt like a teenager, though, around 15 maybe. The bids went up at an alarmingly high rate, and the boy couldn't help but shake in fear as he thought of what was going to happen next.

Why were these people bidding for him? What were they going to do? He bit his lip, holding back tears as he was painfully yanked to his feet, someone had won the bid, and the stranger had begun walking up the steps to claim his prize.

But he never had a chance. Dark shadows quickly jumped down from the rafters above, dancing across the main floor to the stage, till they were mere inches away from the teen, not that he could see them anyway, they were so fast. Feeling their footsteps come towards him, he breathed quickly, too scared to look up. He was unable to form coherent thoughts about the shadows, his mind pounding too hard to even think properly.

But he forced himself to watch. They seemed to be rescuing him, by the way they knocked out his capturer first, but maybe it was coincidence. Before he could make an attempt at escape, he was roughly grabbed again and carried bridal style in the arms of a muscular, dark clothed man, who was holding a sword in one hand.

"Move out!" He hissed to the other two, who were finishing tying up the auctioneer and his cronies.

The teen didn't bother to struggle, after all, being carried away from the auction by ninja like people was a lot better than being someone's slave. He sighed in relief, glad to be out of there, not even caring as the cold night air hit his naked flesh, but felt slight anxiety to who these men were.

They were dressed in what looked like traditional Japanese ninja outfits, something he had only seen in comic books he read as a kid (seeing it brought back those memories), which confirmed his original suspicion about them being true Japanese warriors. He was a bit imaginative. Their faces were hidden, except for the colored bandanas that showed their eyes. The man holding him securely had a blue one and a sword tucked in his belt, another strapped to back, the tallest ninja following at his heel had a purple bandana while holding a large stick, and the man taking up the rear wore a torn, red one and tightly gripping a strange, trident style weapons.

They didn't so much as spare him a glance, and he assumed it was because they did these kind of things all the time. So what if they rescued some stupid kid? They probably just drop him off at an orphanage. The teen sighed sadly, snuggling his head into the man's thick robes, closing his eyes to try and achieve some sort of relaxation before that happened.


He realized he dozed off at least 5 minutes after waking up in a completely new location. He groggily blinked, the mattress from under him creaking as he sat up. He scrubbed mercilessly at his bloodshot eyes, which were still puffy from crying the day before. Or at least he thought it was the day before, hoping he just slept through the night and not a few days or something. More memory loss was not something he needed at the moment.

He shivered a little as his bare arms were met with cold air, and stupidly, the boy realized he was actually wearing clothes, and his restraints had disappeared. He smiled happily, rubbing his wrists in excitement, just glad he was finally free. The teen examined the room once he was sure he was safe, immediately being able to tell it belonged to a teenager not much older than himself (assuming he guessed correctly about his age). Posters of popular movies hung here and there, plus some Japanese décor and scrolls. His eyes widened at the fancy swords that hung on the wall above the room owner's dresser.

"Wow," He murmured, coughing from the sudden hoarseness in his voice. There was only one bed, which was currently inhabited by the teenaged boy, who was wrapped snuggly in layers of blankets and dressed in a large tee shirt and sweats. Even his small injuries were treated and bandaged. Whoever had done this had obviously done so with care.

He wondered if it was the ninjas that had saved him last night, but it was a strange thought, after all, why would someone go through so much trouble for a useless child like himself. His face fell as it dawned on him that he had nowhere to go to after this, and he sure as hell didn't want to go to an orphanage. Maybe he could make something up to stay here?

Loud voices drew him from his lazy stupor, and he groaned again, forcing himself from the comfy bed. His bare feet patted against the warmth of the carpet as he neared the door, carefully cracking it open so he could listen more clearly, or see what his saviors looked like, if it was the ninjas that had taken him back to their 'secret hide out'. Were they still in costume?

Unable to hear or see because of a creamy colored wall in the way, the boy exited the room as quietly as he could. He stopped at the corner of the hallway so he could just barely peek his head out without them noticing him. He saw two strangers having a heated discussion in the living room, not knowing whether to be relieved or worried they were his saviors to last night. Although, to his excitement, they were dressed in normal clothing.

From what he could see, there was a tall man with straight black hair that hung just above his narrow, although kind, dark blue eyes, clad in a blue long sleeve and jeans and white socks, nearly 2 millimeters away from another teen. The other had spiky red hair, only an inch or two shorter than the black haired man, but he was still very tall, compared to himself, that is. His sharp green eyes were blazing with anger that almost resembled real fire. He was dressed similarly to the other, except with a red shirt and no socks.

The red head was angry, but the black haired man was talking calmly to the other, trying to explain without losing his cool, but it proved to be a difficult task when he was arguing with the brash, hotheaded attitude of the other. Their voices were hushed, probably to keep from waking the teen in the room by the door (they probably dropped him in there because it was the closest room), so he had to strain to hear them. Occasionally he would pick up some key words, and he was doing a good job spying, especially on two ninjas, for the most part.

Though that could be because the two older teenagers were too distracted in their conversation to notice the shy and fearful blond hiding behind the wall.

"I told you, Raph, to be careful!" Hissed the blue shirted one, clenching his fists, his face straining through the calm façade. "Because of you, we had to take one of them! If you hadn't been so distracted-" The one known as Raph growled in response, narrowing his eyes as the other's comment seemed to drive him over the edge, but the teen boy noticed a faint blush on his cheeks from shame.

"Shut up, asshole! I was not distracted! We didn't have to take him!" The other rolled his eyes, like that was ridiculous even to suggest, and the teen felt his stomach lurch anxiously, already feeling guilty for causing them so much trouble.

"You know we can't do that, he was HURT because of your carelessness! This wouldn't have happened if you threw it right! Besides, he looked to be younger than us…He would have been sent to an orphanage, and you know how I feel about orphanages."

The boy was confused. Hurt? He barely had any scratches on him. He moved his arms up and down, when he felt a sharp pain in his right bicep. He smothered a yelp. He lifted his sleeve to reveal a bandaged cut, and with sudden realization, he remembered a soft sting when he was being rescued. A knife? Shit. They were good. Maybe that also explained why he passed out. They may have been poisonous.

The two quieted for a few minutes, and the boy could see the red head collapse back into a chair, running a nervous hand through his spiky mop of hair, revealing several piercings on his ears. The boy shivered, wondering if he was some kind of thug. His eyes widened, his baby blues meeting sharp green, and he instinctively shot back into the wall with pale fear written on his face.

"Shit!" The two gasped, seeing that the boy had been listening, and wasted no time in bolting after him as he ran to the front door to escape. The boy crashed straight into the purple shirted chest of another man. He cried out, struggling fiercely and sobbing as the tall ninja held him still.

"Shh!" He tried to assure, the other two ninjas helplessly standing behind the fearful boy. "It's okay, we won't hurt you! We just want to talk." He smiled gently, releasing the boy once he was sure he wouldn't escape. "Besides," He added, shifting his weight with a worried frown. "You might reopen your cut."

Nervously, he looked up, staring deeply into the tall teenager's eyes. He had messy brown hair that was disheveled and uncombed, eyes red from lack of sleep, and glasses halfway off his face. He had a strange eye color of mahogany and crimson, but the warmth in them soothed the boy. Smiling more brightly, the man reached up and brushed some curls away from the boy's forehead.

"Good boy, just relax. We aren't going to hurt you." He murmured, smirking slightly at the other two as their jaw's dropped in shock at the tallest ninja's coaxing of the boy. Soon, they led the boy to sit on the comfy chair in the living room. Next to it was a couch that stared directly at the small TV on the wall. The tall ninja sat on the soft couch, the blue shirted one seated in arm chair directly across from the boy. In his hands was a hot mug of tea that the purple shirt man forced onto him, eyes focused solely on his reflection in the liquid, fidgeting nervously under the three ninja's scrutinizing gaze.

Raph seemed the most intimidating, but that was probably because he was leaning against the wall, arms crossed, as he stared down at the small blond. Despite their serious exteriors, their eyes shone of worry and kindness. They seemed to genuinely want to make the boy feel comfortable, but wasn't all too familiar with the company. After a few solid minutes, the ebony haired teen, presumably the leader of the small ninja group, coughed nervously in his hand to get everyone's attention.

"So, um," He raised an eyebrow, disappointed that the boy still refused to meet his eyes. "What's your name?" When he didn't answer, he continued talking, trying not to seem too bothered by it. "Mine is Leonardo, Leo. I'm the leader of our little group." He gave a sheepish smile. "And the oldest brother."

He rolled his eyes at the loud scoff the red head produced in response. Unceremoniously, the man now known as Leo gestured at him, who stood broadly behind the chair. "And, that's Raphael. Second Oldest. Don't take his attitude too personal, it's how he hides his soft center." The leader winked playfully, earning a glare and slight kick on the back of the chair from Raph.

Next he pointed at the tall man who grabbed the boy earlier, who was gulping down some coffee, his appearance still the same messy usual. "That's Donatello, or Donnie. He's a bit of a nerd." Leo smiled, Don did too, and the boy figured it was because they were trying to make him feel more at home. The boy didn't miss how Leo didn't introduce the brunet as the youngest brother. He eyed the 'nerd' for a moment. He looked like he stayed up all night, the boy noted thoughtfully, but then remembered the attack at the auction place. He shivered, a motion they didn't miss under their hawk like gaze.

"It's okay, don't be afraid," Donnie drawled out, like the boy was some kind of incoherent animal and slowly reached for his hand. Which he probably was. He flinched back, and Don pulled away, hurt written in his eyes. The boy bit his lip and looked down, guiltily. He hadn't meant to hurt his feelings.

Sensing his discomfort, Leonardo smiled again at him. "You..You didn't tell us your name." He said gently, watching the 15 year old's face for distressed emotions at the question. When there was no response, Leo leaned forward and stared the boy down, not to scare him, but just out of instinct to collect information he needed. The boy gulped, brushing hair from his eyes, but it was useless, for they just fell back in place like pieces to a puzzle.

"I heard...them say it once." He said, voice barely even a whisper, but thanks to his excellent hearing, Leonardo picked it up with no
problem.

"Yes?" His clammy hands squeezed together, face paling in anticipation as Leo finally realized the possibility of this boy being some
kind of enemy, and he didn't even know. The seconds dragged on for a few seconds and as usual, Raphael was impatient.

"Well! Spit it out already!" He snapped furiusly, his two brothers shooting him an annoyedglare, which the red head simply shrugged off. He flinched back, chewing harder on his soft lip.

"Mi..mi..." He struggled out, like it was physically impossible to say, but Leo knew it was because he was trying to
remember. "Michael...ang...gie...um..."

He squirmed, but Donnie's sharp voice cut through the air like a knife, saying it before he even processed the thought. "Michelangelo."


Thank you for reading! I hope you all enjoyed chapter one! Suggestions? :) Comments? No flames please. ^^