First off, I haven't put a fic up in FOREVER, and the really really good fics I've got are still in the process of being written, and so in desperation I dug through the folder of discarded-yet-finished stories until I found this, which has the vaguely redeeming value of being silly. So. Bear with me here for a bit.

Disclaimer haiku: Short and sweet and yet/ I don't own any of it./ So don't sue me, 'kay?

Notes: The title is shamelessly borrowed from 'Untold Tales of Spider-Man,' which was an exceedingly brilliant comic that I wish I could've purchased every month. I also took, sort of, the basic premise - in this case, stories no one sees "on-screen." That's because they're crazy and totally never going to happen, but ah well. Why Evan? Because, when I sat down to think of insane crossovers, I found a bunch for him and zero for the other characters. So there.

All the stories are set during Evan's early days with the Morlocks.

Not Quite Giant Alligators

(or, Evan Meets His New Neighbors)

The sewers beneath New York City were more extensive than most people realized. Evan Daniels had grown up there - aboveground - and had no idea just how big the underground was. You could spend your whole life down there, which was fortunate, because currently that appeared to be his destiny.

Trying not to make too much noise, he scratched at an insistently itchy spot on his right arm where a bone was getting ready to pop through. It wasn't like Callisto and the Morlocks were bad company or anything. He got along with them pretty well. The Morlocks didn't treat anyone like a freak, and in fact he had one of the milder mutations in the group.

But he did miss his old life. The part with skateboarding, anyway. Not a lot of places to skate in the sewers and subway tunnels.

That was why he was sneaking around on the fringes of the Morlock territory.

Callisto had maps all over the place, most of them detailing the ins and outs and borders of her tribe's home, and as a matter of due course Evan had been instructed to learn them all. One area of tunnels had been marked with a single enigmatic symbol - more like a blob of ink, really. He'd squinted at it for a bit, trying without success to figure out what it was, then noticed the "Off limits" notation scrawled beneath it. Then he'd noticed that the tunnels in that section were marked as track-free and full-pipe.

Smooth, circular brick tunnels with no tracks to trip him up? A skateboarder's dream.

Asking Callisto had gotten him nowhere besides a decisive, "That's not our territory. Those who live there know how to defend themselves. Stay away."

So he'd asked some other Morlocks, all of whom shrugged, shivered, or shook their heads. No one explained why this area was so forbidden. One old guy had mumbled something about rats - or maybe just a rat, Evan wasn't sure - but that had been it.

Evan had pondered it for a few days, then decided that the chance to get some skateboarding in was worth the risk of running into evil sewer rats. Or rat. And now he was cautiously making his way through the narrow access channels to the stretch of full-pipe heaven.

A rusting metal grate up ahead signaled the end of the line. Evan popped a spike and used it to quietly pry open the grate, then dropped the two or three feet to the curving tunnel floor. His skateboard remained in the access channel; he wasn't going to start doing anything until he was sure that the coast was clear.

That was hard to do when it was pitch-black dark - as it always was underground, where city planners had neglected to put street lights. Evan had a flashlight with him, of course, but it was for emergencies only. Batteries were practically impossible to come by. He took a few steps into the tunnel, feeling it out like Wolverine would've, listening for anything suspicious.

He heard the drip of water, the faint rumble of distant subway trains, and the unmistakable sound of someone breathing nearby.

Evan froze, then forced himself to scan for the source of the breathing. Slowly, slowly...

There. A figure - barely more than a short, darker shadow against the blackness - was standing off to his left side, several yards down the tunnel.

Not good. But one-on-one - yeah, he could handle that. Evan took a breath and pushed outward slightly, making his spikes bristle up in what he knew was an impressive display. The figure took a step backwards; Evan sensed the movement more than heard it.

He also sensed, not heard, a weapon being drawn.

Quick, much quicker than he'd ever moved in the Danger Room, Evan sent a rain of bone spikes whistling through the air, but the figure was suddenly not there. Evan whirled, trying to get them back into his field of vision - and was met with the sight of three more figures, apparently identical to the first, gathered around him. The only way not blocked was the way he'd come, at his back.

Even in the nonexistent light, he made out weapons in all of their hands. The weapons were raised and ready, and they sure looked like they knew how to use them.

'Those who live there know how to defend themselves,' Callisto had said. Evan swallowed. He'd never been the best X-Man in terms of fighting skills, and he was even worse off now, with his powers acting weird. And his only real combat experience - the Brotherhood didn't count - was against a robot that had kicked his butt in just a few minutes.

But he had an exit. He could stay and fight, and lose, or he could get the heck out of there. A few weeks earlier, out of pride and stubbornness and anger, he would've stood his ground no matter what. It worked for Wolverine. Except he wasn't Wolverine, and this wasn't happening a few weeks earlier.

If nothing else, living on the edge of civilization had taught him prudence.

Evan took a step backwards, then another, then scrambled back into the access channel and headed for Morlock territory at high speed.

The four shadowed figures lowered their weapons and watched Evan's leave-taking with no small amount of curiosity.

"What was that thing?" one asked, as Evan's ringing footfalls echoed further and further away.

"Teenage mutant ninja porcupine?"

"Shut up, Mikey."

"Probably just a stray Morlock. He looked pretty young."

"Looked like a spy to me."

"Give it up, Raph. You know the deal Master Splinter cut with that Callisto lady. They leave us alone, we leave them alone, and everyone gets along."

"Hey, yeah - good fences make good neighbors!"

"Shut UP, Mikey. And all I'm saying, Leo, is maybe we should look into better security. Donny?"

"I'll see if I can rig something up. I guess."

"Maybe we should talk to Callisto again."

The serious nature of the conversation was interrupted once again, this time with a genuinely curious question: "So I was just thinking, guys - how come we never run into giant alligators?"

"Oh, come on, Mikey..."

"Yeah. You know there's no such thing."

"There could be!"

"Giant alligators," one of them muttered, at once scornful and incredulous, and the words echoed around the sewer tunnels as the four turtles headed home.

The sewers beneath New York were more extensive than most people realized - and the Morlocks weren't the only mutants living there.