Could you do it?, a ninja turtles fanfic

If you could stop a bullet, would you do it?

If you could stop it burrowing right down in the pits of someone's chest, would you? Would you willingly give up your own heart for sacrifice? And even then, when the bullet's got you, would you have the courage to face the tears afterwards? Face the hot break of the world as you're sucked into the void that is the cold withering hand of Death?

I thought I could do it. Once upon a time. But now…things are different now. Things aren't the same anymore.

You take a situation and you wrap it up in a bow and you consider every angle of that shot. You think on who's affected and how, about where they'll be struck and if you can make the leap to save them in time. You think on afterwards, of the funeral and the mourners and the death and you compare your own to the living being waiting for that bullet, and you think, disgusted with yourself, is that enough? Do you have more to lose than them? Would you be saving one life and submitting many more to grief than would be the other way around? Beyond this, could you cope with yourself in the afterlife, if there is an afterlife, and how would you explain your choice? Taking a bullet is another brother to suicide. He's not as helpless nor as desperate, but he takes his own life willingly. The deaths don't cancel each other out. You can't take the bullet for a marked man and expect a lifetimes worth of red marks to be cast from your record. Death is never that simple.

So, you've analysed the situation, as have I. You're on a roof, high on the scaffolding looking down on a man that may or may not be worth more dead than you yourself. The gun is poised, you can read the thug's eyes and you know he's going to shoot, so do you take the chance? You could, theoretically, leap in through the bottom window, smash it wide and take the startled bullet. Or, you could wrestle foolishly with the gunman and take the bullet in a struggle. Taking the bullet openly isn't an option. The man's tied up and after the initial shock the gun will fire again. You'd die for nothing.

So, let's think this through. In the whole two seconds that are left between that bullet and that man. Saving him would mean a head-on rush into calamity. The shouts and the sound of the gunman falling would undoubtedly call his cronies, and even if he didn't make a sound and you could catch the mountainous man before he fell, could you stop the man tied to the chair from screaming at the sound of a giant mutated ninja turtle? No, of course you couldn't. That was a stupid question to test your honesty. By this time you'd be panicking and the blood would be rushing up to your head and the man in the chair will be screaming for his life against the beast that just saved him. You've already killed yourself right then and there, even if you don't know it. Sure, you can take the first wave of thugs and when the second comes you can start to make your way through them, but what about when the other bullets come? What then? My brothers will follow, and let's assume for an instant that you're in the same spot as me.

Let's say it goes like this, and this is only one scenario to conjure, of course. You jump down first, stop the bullet, save the man's life. That first step is simple, done. But the man's screaming, he thinks you're going to wound him. You have to quiet him but by the time you've made it across the warehouse the thugs below have heard. Your brothers don't wait for your signal, they jump right in to aid you. Raphael and Michelangelo run for the door to block it, throwing their arms against it, and you help untie the victim you've just taken the bullet for. Donatello's by your side and taking the kicking man from you, and you know the human is never going to listen to reason. There's only one thing for it.

You give Donatello the order to shut him up and he's unconscious before you've finished speaking. He's heaved over Donatello's shoulder and you realise then that now he's too heavy and weighed down to make it to the hatch above you. There's no other option, you have to go through that door. So now, although you've saved the man from the bullet, you have no way of escape.

Thinking fast and hard with your brothers pushing at your back for an answer you panic and the search becomes desperate. You realise that the only way out is through the building. The same building that's twelve stories high and armed with more than just the common thug. But you have no choice. Raphael is looking at you like your crazy as you give him and Michelangelo the order to move. Michelangelo does so without contempt, standing back with weapons out to protect a disabled Donatello. You repeat that it's an order and that there isn't time to bicker and Raphael gives you that glare again. You know that he knows that you're grasping at the short straw, and he knows you've made the wrong choice just as much as you. Yes, you saved the guy from the bullet, but now you have to make your way through twelve floors of madness and Donatello is vulnerable now that he's carrying your unconscious witness.

Raphael throws the plank of wood down through the grooves of the door and steps back hesitantly, sais out. You tell him to take the guy from Donatello because you know he needs both hands and Raphael can fight with just one. Raphael is the most violent, the most enthusiastic, he can cope with the strain. If you could you'd take the human from him, but you need both your hands for your katanas as well. One is good, but two is always better.

He gives you that look again, but silent cooperation is given. He knows as you know that there isn't time. The unconscious witness is passed over and now Donatello is armed as well. The wood of the door is beginning to break and you move in front of Raphael, to cover his disabled side. The wood finally splinters and breaks and the doors are thrown wide. You engage the enemy. As I said before, the first wave always goes down easily. You and Donatello take out the ones at long-reach with a few scathing blows and the few that travel around the back to the inner circlet are wiped out by Michelangelo and Raphael.

The doorway is clear and so you move. You have to leave fast before reinforcements are called. The wounded are lying by your feet as you tread over them, and you're clambering down the steel staircase as fast as you dare without leaving any of your brothers behind or risking a rear attack. You don't take the lift, you never take the lift. Donatello warns that lifts are too easily disabled and so the only option is the other eleven flights left to climb.

The second wave of fighters and thugs catches you on your way down, and now you hear the rumbling of an uproar beneath. From the sides and below, they're coming, and all because you wanted to take a bullet for a man you don't know is entirely innocent. The same tactics as before are given, and this time you guard the stairs and allow Michelangelo to take your place by Donatello, guarding Raphael's flank. You block the stairwell with barrels and debris that you find by the side, and kick it down hard, trying to disable those that are making their way up to you.

Now there's another problem. Donatello shouts over to you and you glance back, still occupied with your charge. He ducks under Raphael's blow and points over your shoulder. There's a black orb, a camera. You've been seen. Recorded. You have to get the tapes. Get them now. No time to come back later.

You throw the last of the debris down and slice through the black orb, but you know, as Donatello knows, that the connection and recording has already been sent to the mainframe computer on the sixth floor. The blueprints were clear.

Now you have to give the order again. Raphael's daring you to do it, and Michelangelo is throwing the last of the thugs into a world they won't remember. This time resistance is met. They're breaking through the blockade you've made and you have to move fast. You batter Raphael with the statement that you are the leader and that you call the shots. He hates it, you know he hates it, but it's all you can think of as your defence for your motives. You can't afford questions. The hard mask is back in place and you know you've crossed some invisible line, but now you have to move.

You lead the way. Over the bodies and down through the empty room. Donatello follows you first, ever the devoted peacekeeper, and in his anger Raphael follows simply for the chance to risk pushing the decision back in your face back home, in front of father. He knows that'll sting just as much as your comment, and you'll have to think of some other way to justify it, if you can. Michelangelo brings up the rear, you can hear him making some comment but you brush it aside and snap at him to focus. The statement hurts him, you know because of the silence, but you can't afford to backtrack now.

You meet the third wave towards the end of the room and now your body is beginning to drain. The swords in your hands are heavier, you're taking longer to think and those fresh instincts are starting to rust. The enemy knows this, and there's a smile before you cut them down. You meet the second set of staircases before the third problem strikes.

The bullet, the one you've taken for the ungrateful, unconscious man, has just up and bit your brother. He cries out. You turn. Michelangelo goes down and now you know the worst has started to bring itself on you. Ever the protective brother, Raphael drops his noteworthy charge and races to his brother's side. Donatello is there, closing the doors as the thugs come behind it with weapons you know will slice through you all much more painfully than steel, and the guilt gets you like the bullet got Michelangelo.

The leg wound is hot and fresh, Donatello is struggling by the door and now you have two casualties. You tell Raphael to grab Michelangelo and stay close, and then you pick up the man you've saved. Raphael glares at you, and there's spite there as well as something akin to hatred. You brush it off and promise to deal with it later, like you always do and never get around to doing. Donatello screams about the lock breaking and in a desperate attempt to buy more time you jam your left sword through it. It's lost now and the door holds. You wouldn't be able to use it anyway. Not now you have to carry the unconscious victim.

The stairs are harder to climb now and Michelangelo winces with a ragged breath at every step. Raphael's not being easy on him. He can't be. The men are still chasing and Donatello is giving you that doubtful look he reserves for only those desperate times. He's worried now. He's beginning to understand what you and Raphael knew from the moment you jumped down that hatch. Michelangelo leaves your trail in red splotches and you reach the tenth floor.

No aggravation meets you here and you're grateful to find the door locked with iron chains. It's one less door you need to concern yourself with. Michelangelo wants to stop for a minute, but you push him on. You need to reach the bottom. You have to get out. Donatello eyes the door and you don't like the gleam that hides there. You know your brother.

You tell him no, you bark the order. He tells you it would save time and you could meet him down by the sixth floor. He's uninjured, armed, fully capable, you know as well as him that those recordings of you and your brothers need to be scourged from the system. But do you let him go? He tells you there isn't a choice. You know he's right. With limited options you let him go, but not before Raphael snaps the chains with a slice from his sai. Donatello is about to depart before you yell at him that he needs something to smash up the mainframe to the hard-drive from a long distance. You can't risk Donatello entering a secure area with just his staff and knowledge. Long distance is a safe distance. Knowing what you're going to say Raphael hands Donatello his free sai without hesitation. Now he's gone, and you have to press on.

With the rescued witness over your shoulder, you lead your brothers down the stairs. You make it to the eighth floor before the barricade above breaks. Michelangelo tries to convince you that he can still fight, but you and Raphael will hear none of it. Sliding Michelangelo by the back of the wall, you take the ones below and Raphael takes the ones above. By the time the show is over you're littered in fresh bruises, and you see your reflection in Raphael. The exhaustion is crippling you now, like an infection inside of you, and you can't seem to gather the oxygen fast enough.

That's when you see the nasty nick above Raphael's eye. It bleeds over his left cheek bone and now you know there's going to be trouble. It needs stitches, clearly. Raphael squints through it and picks Michelangelo back up, insisting he's fine. He's still angry with you, no amount of bloodshed can change that.

Now you're following them down. You know you should take the lead, but you can't without knocking past them. So you hold back and make sure you're not being followed. You meet the sixth floor and the curdling cries below are bold and fearsome. For the first time in a long time you're afraid. Not because of what's coming or what might happen, but because of what you've done. You took that bullet, and now your brothers are fighting to pay the price. Can you make it out alive? You're beginning to question your own choices. Question your own decisions. Could there have been another way? Could you have stayed up on the twelfth floor until you thought of another way out? No, that's impossible, you tell yourself. There was no other way. But do you believe it?

You snap out of it to find your brothers staring at you, between you and the locked door and the stairs. They want to know what to do. They need instructions to follow. You've led them this far, you can't back out now. You tell them to hold and wait for Donatello. Neither of them argue with you. So you wait…

And you wait…

Donatello doesn't come back. Now you have another choice. Do you go through that door, perhaps securing the fate you've started, or do you save the two brothers you have and come back for the third? It's an unthinkable choice, but a choice nonetheless. And you have to make it. So you do. You know you can't leave them to fight their way down alone, and you can't leave Donatello alone behind the locked door with humans.

You slice through the chains with ease, but now there's another issue. There's blood on the other side, and a sai. Raphael's sai? Maybe. You haven't the time to check its authenticity. The smear leads down through the room and you notice something odd. There are no computers on the sixth floor. The blueprints, for all they were worth, were wrong. Donatello walked singlehandedly into a trap, and you let him. You encouraged him. Because you just had to destroy those camera recordings. And now you're wondering, if the room was a trap, was the man you saved the bait? Did the cameras even work? Was there ever the chance of you getting out alive?

You push into the room, slice through what little opposition remains with the rescued witness still slung over your shoulder, and scour it. Nothing. No Donatello.

Now you're panicking. Do you go back up through Donatello's route and leave Raphael and Michelangelo to make their own way down? Or do you go with them and come back for Donatello alone? The same question. The same question you can't find the answer to.

Raphael screams at you to move and with a heavy heart you do. You listen to him, because he's offering you a way out. He's offering you the answer to the choice.

'Get Mikey down, me and you'll come back for Don.'

You want to follow him, but you can't. You tell him to go ahead. To take Michelangelo and run for the stairs. If they can they should take the back exit down the fire escape. Avoid the front doors, but don't take any risks. You don't wait for them to answer. You slam the door in their faces and jam the sai into the lock. You'll save two. No matter what, you'll save two.

Raphael bags on the door and for a moment you think it might give. Then he goes silent and you know he's thought better of it. He knows Michelangelo needs help with that wound, and you can hear him dragging Michelangelo away. Your baby brother shouts at you, telling you that you owe him a pizza, and you know he's fighting back tears on the other side.

Now you search for Donatello. You have another option. Take the man you saved with you, or leave him. Which do you do? If you leave him and you do find Donatello, the whole night will have been for nothing. But if you take him, and Donatello needs help, it's only a delayed tragedy. The man will still meet his bullet.

You take him with you. Your honour demands you do.

You run through the rooms. You've lost all track of time and you're following the blood trail. It sickens you to know what you're following, but you're glad it's there. It makes your job easier. There's no opposition and it's quiet, but as you climb the steps you know it's just a façade. You climb back up to the seventh floor, and now you stop to find no more blood. The trail vanishes. Should you be relieved or upset? Frustrated, angered or confused? What do you choose to believe? Is Donatello alive? Did he ever make it down? You notice there are no fake cameras here, and you hope Donatello found it odd that there were cameras on the left of the building, but not in the centre. If he found that, the blood trail may have been a trap.

You realise the situation you're in then, and you feel foolish and humiliated. You doubted your brother and his capabilities, and now you're standing alone by the light of the seventh floor. You've left your injured brothers to make their way down the other six flights alone, and you've only got one sword.

For the second time that night, you made the wrong choice.

The thunder of feet meets your ears and the doors behind you slam closed. An automatic lock secures them and the sound of thugs rampaging their way towards you thickens. You drop the unconscious soul by your feet and slide your sword between the gap. You try to pry the automatic shutter open, but it doesn't budge. They're above you now, one flight above. You're running out of time. You slide the sword in further and push hard. It doesn't budge.

There's the smooth hiss of steel and something pings. You pull your sword back and watch the doors slide apart. Raphael's stood there, panting, heaving, blood staining his mask completely. You see the sparks fly and look left to the broken contraption. Raphael's sai is lodged deep in the electronics. He yanks it free and begins to make his way back, yelling at you to hurry up. Picking up your charge, you follow.

You both race through the sixth floor, nocking aside tables and chairs and other items in your haste to run. There is no time for stealth. You're being followed. They know you're there. You have to run. Quickly. Get out of the building and don't look back. Get out now before it's too late!

You reach the stairwell again and there's another issue welling on your mind. You yell to Raphael, asking over Michelangelo as you both jump the steps three and four at a time. You're sprinting beside him, both equally matched, when he tells you that Michelangelo is with Donatello. The blood was a pit trap. You're relieved to know Donatello noticed the falsehood in the cameras, and ashamed to believe you doubted him.

Together you make it down to the third floor. Then you notice your relief was short-lived.

The blood's thicker, the trail deeper, and the bodies few and far in between. Donatello and Michelangelo are being chased, and now you have to save them. Together you and Raphael charge the stairs and bang down them, neither of you caring anymore.

It's when you reach the second floor that the next round of bullets is loosed. You cover your head and duck, but you keep running. Closing your eyes, you find the echo in the empty space deafening. You find the entrance to the second floor and shoot into it. You peer behind the door, hand outstretched to drag Raphael in so you can slam it shut…

But Raphael's not there anymore.

You're alone again.

You don't know when you lost him. Was it on the third flight? The second? Did he stumble over the banister or get caught by the bullets? Your mind thinks up a thousand scenarios, not one of them good, and your heart is in your mouth. You stay with your hand outstretched for a moment, hopeful he'll turn the corner and take it with both hands so you can pull him inside…but he doesn't. For five agonising seconds you hold on and wait. Something hot and salty seeps from the corners of your eyes and you recollect, with a throat so dry it feels like it's going to close up, on just what Raphael was thinking. He must have screamed, must have reached his hand out and tried to grab you as he fell, but you never turned back. He needed help, but you didn't hear him, did you? Petty excuse. You were running, the bullets were too loud. Were they too loud for Raphael? He came back for you. He faced death for you.

You killed him.

You rub at your eyes and scream at your subconscious to shut up. You head back out, back up the steps. Carefully, you go. On the third floor you see the deep red smear half way down, but it leads to nothing. Raphael fell. That much is clear. You growl low in your throat, hands clenching tight about the sword your eager to rip into the heart of the men who dared to hurt your flesh and blood…then you hear it.

Someone's calling for you. Behind you. Further down. Was that Michelangelo? Could it have been? It sounded like him…

You're torn again. Save Raphael or save Michelangelo? What do you do? Michelangelo is with Donatello, they're going to be okay, but then why is he calling for help? You stop for a shred of a moment to think, and you know that if you go after Raphael in that instant, and you save him, that he'll never forgive you if Michelangelo goes down. Raphael is tough. He's stubborn. A survivor. You tell yourself this as you leave his blood on the floor.

Jumping down the flights, you slice the few lowly stragglers that have been left by your brothers and make your way to the first floor, the man you saved still over your aching shoulder. The world seems heavier and you know you have to get out now if there's any chance you're going to save any of them. You can come back for Raphael alone. But only after you've saved Michelangelo and Donatello.

Your breath catches as the wave stops you from seeing. Black on black on black on black. There is no end to it. Shrouds of Foot ninja block your path. You slice through them like the men behind you, and you're so desperate you're hacking like a butcher. The technique is precise, but given with such emotion it's unrecognisable to all. You reach the centre when you see them; Donatello and Michelangelo. Neither move.

What did you do?

You fall to your knees, your shaking legs can't keep you up any longer. The saved falls from your shoulder and suddenly becomes the damned. You're in Hell…there's no other way to describe it. The sword falls from your fingers and you know you've failed.

It was all just a matter of choice. You stopped the bullet for a man that was pledged to die. You led three to death…no, you led five to death. Then what of Splinter? And April, and Casey, and the others?

Was the bullet worth it?

Up on the rooftops of the Foot building, Leonardo watched with narrowed eyes as the man below begged for his life before the Foot ninja. Tied to a chair, the massacre was pitiful. Beside him, his brothers watched with him. Michelangelo winced when the brutal beatings were given, Donatello flinched and Raphael's knuckles had long ago turned white.

"Are we gonna take 'em?" The husk of Raphael's voice was bittersweet in the ice cold air, and beneath the moon his amber eyes appeared almost cat-like. He was eager to spill blood, Leonardo knew it, but the scenario he had just ran through was too fresh in his mind.

"No."

"What? Leo, bro, we can totally take them. Look at them!" Michelangelo whined, hands coming to his nunchucks as watched the savage interrogation.

"No, Mike." Leonardo's voice was stern, and he shook his head again. "Not tonight."

"Leo, that man's going to die-"

"I know, Donny." Leonardo stood, sheathing his katana as he did so. He had considered the options, and the outcome had still left bile at the back of his throat. In those two seconds his brain had conjured his worst fear in the most likely scenario. He wouldn't risk it. "Let's go home, guys. There's nothing out here for us tonight."

"But, Leo-"

"No, Mike." Leonardo cut him off roughly. "Not tonight. Let's just go already, okay?"

They didn't question him again. Michelangelo and Donatello stood in the shadows, both of them casting an uneasy glance over at their eldest brother as he stared up at the moon before they began to make their way back down the building in utter silence.

Raphael stayed for a moment longer, still crouched beside the brutal show. He watched his older brother with questioning eyes, and he caught the flinch Leonardo tried to hide as the bullet buried itself in the man's skin. He stood slowly from his crouch, never taking his eyes from Leonardo's silhouette.

"You chose this, Leo?"

Leonardo couldn't turn to face his brother. "I chose it, Raph. Go home, I'll meet you there."

Raphael scowled, but didn't push the subject. There was something off about his brother tonight, he knew it. He left by the shadows the same as his brother, and Leonardo let out a long, shaky breath. Staring up at the moon, he reflected back on his choice to not take the bullet. It was an easy phrase many people would utter in a heartbeat, but for Leonardo it was a phrase too literal to be taken to heart. In a heartbeat his whole world could change.

He couldn't let that happen.

He couldn't take the bullet.