Urina Azzurrosis
(I would like to thank the Don and Mike from Stealthy Stories for permission to write about this…. Caper. It's gonna be only a couple of chapters.)
It was a pleasant dream. It was one of those dreams that the dreamer would not remember upon awakening, but would remember that the images had filled him with a sort of peaceful, contentment. Or rather, that's how it would have happened if a hand hadn't clamped down over the dreamer's mouth and shook him with a ferocity that rattled his teeth.
Even with not being quite awake, Donatello instinctively reached up gripping the wrist of his attacker, and drew his knees up toward his chest. He kicked out at his assailant, and the resulting yelp was enough to completely pull Don into consciousness.
"Mikey?"
Don reached over to his nightstand and switched on the lamp. His eyes followed the sounds of the groan coming from his little brother who had made an unfortunate collision with the wall.
"Mikey, what are you doing in here? It's…" His eyes went to the alarm clock as his brother got to his knees, rubbing his head. "…three in the morning!"
Michelangelo motioned with both hands frantically. "Shhhh! Shhh!" The teenage turtle's gaze went to the door as if he was expecting a huge giant monster to come crashing through any second now. After a few moments of silence, assured that no one was going to come and investigate, Mike scrambled to his feet. "You HAVE to help me!"
Donatello sat on his bed, with his head in his hands. Why couldn't Mike have a catastrophe at a reasonable hour? His half closed eyes barely registered his brother's distressed state and it concerned him enough to warrant a sleepy, "Hmmm…."
Mike shook Don's shoulder trying to wake him up. "Donny!"
Aggravated now, Don pulled away. "What, Mike?"
Mike fell down to his knees, his hands folded, pleading. "You have to help me! Please! Please! You don't want to see me die, do you? I'm too cute to die. What would the world be like without Michelangelo? It would be a disaster! A disaster, I tell you!"
Donatello looked down at his brother, the impassioned plea, and over-acting barely getting a response.
After thirty seconds without a reply, Mike got a little nervous. "Don? Are you listening to me?"
"Hmm…yes. You don't want to die." Don's voice was somewhat monotone and definitely in the 'I would rather be sleeping' category. Even still, he managed to lecture "I think that most living beings in the world have that same sentiment. That's why animals and humans alike have a survival instinct. It helps to keep them from doing stupid things that would get them hurt."
Mike considered that. "I think the mutation must've disconnected my survival thingy."
Donatello sighed. "What did you do, Mike?" He was a bit more awake now. It seemed that he wasn't going to be getting any sleep until he let his brother have his say.
Quietly, almost fearfully, Michelangelo responded. "I did something that's gonna tick Raph off."
"You've done that before." Don didn't sound too impressed.
"But this is serious."
Donatello yawned. "It always is."
Mike bit his bottom lip. "Are you going to help me?"
With a groan and a glance up toward the ceiling as if asking WHY him, Donatello looked back down at his brother. "What did you do?"
Now that the moment of truth was here, Michelangelo wasn't all that sure that he wanted Don to know. "I….I….borrowed Raph's bike and…scratched it. And maybe it got dented it a little. And…maybe Raph didn't know I borrowed his bike."
"Good night, Mike." Donatello lay back down and turned away from his brother. If there was one thing he wasn't going to be a party to, it was this kind of cover up.
But if Don thought he was going to get off that easy, he was sadly mistaken. "Don!" Mike shook Don's shoulder again. "Come on, Bro. You can't turn your back on me now. What about all we've been through? You'd let me go out like this? As Raph's new bike rack?"
Donatello pulled his pillow over his head, determined to ignore his brother. He could hear the mumblings and pleadings, even if he couldn't quite make out the words. Finally, after several long minutes of whining, Michelangelo finally ran out of steam. Donatello heard the sigh, the light foot-falls crossing the room, and the door opening and closing.
Exhaling in relief, Donatello took the pillow from his head and prepared to sleep. Mike's head popped up from beside the bed. "Change your mind?"
Don fell back away from his brother in surprise. "NO."
"Please?"
"NO."
"Pleeeeeease?"
"NO."
The sad, watery, puppy eyes zeroed in on their target. For added effect, Mike's lower lip trembled. "Please?"
Don stared at his brother. Why, why, why, did he bother? This exact scene had played out in similar ways so many times. It also ended the same way. Donatello dropped his head, and sighed. "Fine. I'll….help you."
Mike jumped up and hugged his brother. "Thank you Donny! Thank you, thank you, thank you!"
Don tolerated the enthusiastic embrace for only so long. "Ok ok ok, Mikey." He pushed his brother back. "I'll take a look at the bike tomorrow."
Mike's eyes widened a little. "Oh, well, um, there's a little problem with that. See? The bike's not here."
Donatello slowly repeated his brother's last words. "The bike's not…here. Then WHERE is the bike, Michelangelo?"
Mike's hands came up, waving. "Shhh…shhhh. Casey is taking care of the dent and I'm gonna fix the scratch up tomorrow. But we had to take the bike to a garage so Raph won't see it."
The tired turtle rubbed his temples and tried to keep himself calm. "If you have Casey helping you fix it, then why do you need my help?"
Mike smiled endearingly. "You have, like, the most important job of all, Bro. I'm gonna be helping Casey fix the bike and you get to distract Raph from looking for his bike. Ya know, keep him out of the warehouse."
Before Don could think of a suitable reply to that, Mike was hugging him again. "Thanks so much, Donny. You're really a life saver." He backed away slowly. "Remember, keep Raph away from the warehouse. He can't know his bike's missing. He'll kill us." The last few statements had Mike opening the door and into the hallway. With a thumbs up to his shocked brother, Mike closed the door.
Don stared at the door. "US?" How did Mike talk him into these things?! "Damn." Donatello fell back onto the bed, praying this was all a bad dream.