Without Illusions
Mikey loved her hair.
Angel had wanted to cut it, but Mikey had begged her not to. As a concession, she kept it pulled back into a tight bun for when she was fighting, which was most of the time.
But when they were alone, sharing those precious few private moments, Angel wore pigtails just for him. Like she did when they were both younger and more carefree.
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Her skin was warm. His was cool. After the heat of battle, the smoke and fires, she loved to press her body against his. Mikey refreshed her.
He relished her warmth. It was his sustenance. Angel became his sun, fueling Mikey's need to bask.
They each provided the other with balance.
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Angel couldn't manage the stitches on her own. For some reason, it seemed to hurt more when she sewed herself up.
Mikey waited for her to thread the needle and then to pull her own skin closed. He was good at stitching wounds; he'd had plenty of practice.
Even one handed he did a quick and tidy job of it, whispering soothing words into her ear as she pressed her face against his neck.
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The gun stayed near his hand. Always. Her clothing remained within easy reach. Always.
When they fell together on the bed, he was often too tense, too watchful; too wary to pleasure her properly. Angel understood. She used her hands and mouth expertly, giving him a quick release.
Mikey was a turtle. It didn't take long for him to be ready again, this time to give Angel what she needed.
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They'd gone together on a mission once where the plan was for Mike to distract the Foot soldiers.
From hiding, she'd watched him face a dozen of them by himself. Remaining out of the fight was the hardest thing Angel had ever done.
She was proud when he walked away unscathed and the Foot did not. She also swore to herself that it was the last time she'd ever agree to that sort of plan.
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Raphael didn't understand what Angel meant to Mike. His attitude was rude, gauche, lacking in empathy.
Mikey had long ago stopped letting it anger him. He knew Raph's behavior was his armor, protecting him from feeling anything.
He'd never understand how Mikey could allow himself to be that close to someone when the odds of losing them were so high.
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There were usually bars on the windows of the places they chose to meet.
No curtains, rarely any glass. Areas considered rundown even before the Shredder began his reign of destruction.
It didn't matter as long as there was a bed, or mattress, or couch. They just needed some time alone together.
The bars offered an illusion of safety.
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He brought her a rose once.
It was a surprise, finding a living flower amongst the ruins of someone's garden. The owner was long gone; dead or enslaved. Mikey felt bad taking the flower from the small bush, but it would be trampled beneath booted feet soon anyway.
Better they enjoy it, he'd told Angel. She had started to tremble as she took the flower from his hand. For an hour after that, he simply held her, feeling Angel's hot tears against his skin.
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Angel sometimes saw Leonardo, more often Raphael. The two were never together.
They interacted with Angel very little. The pair shied away from anything that reminded them of their previous lives. That it pained Michelangelo to have his family so divided was easy to see.
It was probably best that the two older Turtles stayed away from Angel. The urge to slap the both of them was often overwhelming.
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There was never enough to eat. It was hard enough to find clean drinking water, much less edible food.
Her body was lean and tightly muscled. Sometimes when they made love her stomach would growl. But then, his did too.
Still, where his body was mostly sharp edges, hers still had those softly rounded places that turned his mind to a different kind of hunger.
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Angel sometimes wondered that if Mikey asked her to go away with him, whether or not she would.
She loved him. He loved her. There was never any question of that. What they felt for each other started long before the war. Without the war, they might never have acted upon those feelings.
There were greater commitments now, ones beyond the desires of two individuals.
She'd probably have to say no. Not that he would ever ask.
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He'd had two arms when they first came together.
Mikey had been teaching her stealth. She was impatient and almost got the both of them killed. After rescuing her, Mikey had held her until her fear subsided. Their eyes had locked and then they'd kissed.
Angel was a virgin. It was all she had and she'd asked Mike to take it. As it turned out, he was a virgin too.
It was the first and last time she'd gazed up at him during sex. After his arm was gone, she mostly rode him. The choice of position was easier on both of them.
They never spoke of it.
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With Donatello's return, the brothers were reunited. For a time anyway.
His plan to defeat the Shredder would work. All four Turtles recognized that truth. Three of them knew they wouldn't survive.
Angel was far away, leading a team of Resistance fighters. There was no way to get word to her. No time to send a messenger.
Mike's only regret was that he'd had no chance to say good-bye.
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April never asked about Angel's relationship with Mikey. Angel never volunteered that information.
The leader of the Rebel army had enough to worry about. They wouldn't burden her with concerns over splitting them up. Good resistance fighters were scarce and getting harder to come by.
Whatever duties they were assigned, the pair followed orders. This wasn't a world where they had the luxury of thinking only of themselves.
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Sometimes he talked in his sleep.
He'd learned to be silent, even in his slumber, but there were times when the dreams were too vivid.
Angel would lay awake listening to him relive his past, when he was the Turtle Titan and Battle Nexus champion. When Donatello was there to fix whatever was broken, including their hearts.
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The victory, when she learned of it, was bittersweet.
There had always been the unspoken question as to which of them would be the first to die. They knew it would eventually happen.
Angel thought that she was inured to the inevitable. That she lived without illusions.
The Resistance fighters cheered the news of their freedom. Angel found a secluded corner and wept.
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