Hey everyone! So, this idea came to me when in the RP verse of tumblr (thank you to the lovely foureyedturtle for her inspiration), and I wanted to do my own take on a world where mutants were allowed to walk freely among humans... with the successes and pitfalls that befall our favorite turtle heroes. Thank you to all the wonderful people who encouraged me to get this story off the ground! You know who you are ;)

*Disclaimer: I don't own TMNT... just the OCs and the plot are mine.

I hope everyone enjoys!

"This is it, ain't it?"

Raphael glanced up from his bunk at his cellmate's slouching form leaning against the bars of their cell. The large, muscular bulldog mutant who called himself 'Tank' stared at him with small eyes that were nearly obscured by his overhanging brow. His jowls dripped with uncontrollable slobber that might have looked comical if it weren't common knowledge that he was serving two life sentences for killing a couple of human teenagers with his teeth and claws. With a muted shrug of his shoulders, Raph replied shortly.

"Yeah, this is it."

"So, yer finally sprung. What's it been... Ten years ya been here? I lost track..."

"Eight."

Tank shook his rectangular gray head sharply, his floppy ears flapping wildly and globs of spit flying in all directions. Raph grimaced at the sight and turned his attention away to stare at the bare grey wall in front of him. It was almost over. All he could do now was wait, but it wouldn't be for much longer. At eight o'clock, he would be a free turtle.

The bulldog's gruff growl came to him again, as low and menacing as a chainsaw.

"How's it feel, Red? To be leavin' this stinkin' hellhole fer good?"

The use of his nickname had become so commonplace that Raph barely even responded to his own name anymore. He'd come to lockup wearing his old red mask, and the rest was history. He hadn't worn the mask for nearly six years, but every inmate in the yard knew him as 'Red' and he'd learned to live with it.

"Like any other day, I guess," Raph replied with a shrug, looking up at the clock on the wall. Five more minutes...

He didn't really feel like talking to Tank, who was nothing but a common street thug who had willingly mutated himself to increase his street cred, but in a place like this, mutants had to stick together. Tolerating the presence of scumbags like this guy was a huge reason why Raph was still alive, and mostly unscathed. The rest of it came from the fact that he was still able to defend himself when the need arose.

"Got any plans for when ya get out?" The dog asked as he lazily scratched at an itch on one ear.

Raph bit the inside of his cheek to keep the exasperated sigh from passing his lips. You only have to deal with this for a few more minutes. That's all. Just keep your cool.

"Not really. Just wanna go home, get on with my life. Forget this whole thing ever happened."

He had hoped that the gangbanger would be satisfied with such a short answer, but clearly, he was not that lucky. Tank pushed himself off the bars and leaned down to look into Raph's bunk. The dog's rancid breath reeked of rotting meat and cabbage, which were two odors that Raph was fairly sure didn't go together.

"Ya know, my gang could use someone like ya if yer interested. They run a lot of high end merchandise out of Midtown: drugs, guns, the works. I could put in a good word fer ya if yer interested in joining up."

Raph turned his head slowly until met his cold, beady eyes. How stupid did the mutt think he was?

"No thanks," he said, "I'm not gonna do anything that gets me back in this place again."

Tank held his gaze for a long time before nodding in full acceptance of what Raph was saying. Prison might be bad enough for a human, but for a mutant, it was about ten times worse; and that was if you were one of the tough ones. Most of them didn't make it out alive, and both of the mutants knew that fact all too well.

"Yer loss, Red. Ya could'a made somethin' of yerself; could'a even run the show. Ya got the stuff. Take that as a compliment; I don't give 'em out easy."

Raph considered telling Tank where he could stick his compliment, but decided that it wasn't worth it. You didn't make enemies with a guy like that, even when he was locked up. He had friends on the outside that could make life really bad for someone who had insulted him in any way. Instead, he just shrugged and fixed his eyes on the clock hanging over the bars, urging the seconds to move faster. After what felt like an eternity, the hands of the industrial analog clock pointed to eight o'clock exactly. Showtime.

"Inmate Raphael Hamato! Public roll up!" A voice boomed from just past Raph's line of sight.

Raphael stood stiffly as the corrections officer, a short, pudgy man appeared at the cell door. He fumbled with his keys for almost a minute before finding the correct one, inserting it into the lock and pulling open the heavy door.

"L-Let's go," the little man stammered nervously, as he stepped aside for Raph to pass. Grunting an acknowledgment, he did and the CO slid the door closed behind them.

"Hey Red!"

Raph turned back to look at Tank one last time. The giant dog was standing at the bars, draping his arms out and crossing in front of the iron bars. He gave him a sloppy grin, half a dozen teeth sticking out from behind his dripping jowls.

"Good luck. Yer gonna need it." he said ominously with a sly wink.

A chill of foreboding ran down Raph's shell. He wasn't sure if this was a threat or if it was just less than friendly advice. Either way, he wasn't eager to ask the dog what he'd meant. Without a word, he turned away and strode quickly away from the cell. The CO struggled to keep up with him and Raph could hear him puffing like a worn out steam engine. Begrudgingly, he shortened his stride, allowing the little man to catch up to him. A chorus of jeers and taunts echoed as they passed through the cell block; mutants and humans alike catcalling and threatening, but Raph ignored them. They were all full of hot air. Nothing to concern himself with.

Tank had been right. If he'd really wanted to, he could have run this place, but he'd known that if he did, he would never get out. He'd be a criminal for life, and that kind of thing did not appeal to him at all. All he wanted to do was to go sleep in his own bed and eat some decent food for a change. Mikey's cooking was adventurous, but surely it would beat canned pork and beans and a kick in the ass.

They didn't stop until they came to a thick steel door that lead to the office where Raph would be given his personal property and be discharged. The guard, Raph couldn't quite remember his name, typed in a ten digit code. The keypad indicator turned green and he turned the handle, opening the door.

The receiving and discharge office was dimly lit and smelled like mold and stale air, like there hadn't been any ventilation in that wing for twenty years. Probably hadn't. An old, dumpy man with a military haircut looked him over with a self-righteous sneer from behind his plexiglass divider. Raph met his eyes squarely as the man slid the foot high door aside and checked his clipboard.

"Raphael Hamato, inmate number 154437569, right?"

"That's me, boss."

The man grunted without much interest as he reached under the counter. He pulled out a large brown paper bag and dropped it with a thud on the blue linoleum surface. Without much care, he pulled it open and began pulling out various items, listing them as they emerged.

"Red hooded sweatshirt, one pair blue jeans, white t-shirt, one pair of trainers, wallet, set of keys, cell phone, red… cloth scrap." The man scrutinized the last entry momentarily, then shrugged.

"Sign here for them."

He pushed a clipboard with a sheaf of paper attached to them and a ballpoint pen. Raph took the pen and scrawled his signature on the form proffered to him while the man behind the counter roughly shoved the items back into the bag. As soon as he finished with that form, he turned to the next ones; mostly of them having to do with where he was living and other crap like that.

What a fucking waste of time, he thought grudgingly as he scribbled all of the information onto the legal looking paper. The CO who had escorted him stood by the door, nervously picking at a hangnail as he watched Raph with a wary eye. The unbroken stare was really setting his nerves on edge and he was about to ask the guy what the hell he was staring at when a high, jovial voice broke the tension.

"I can take it from here, Tom."

Raph smiled at the familiar voice and turned to see Sam Faraday standing beside him. The young corrections officer was tall and lean, with tightly curly black hair and a generous smile, which he directed at Raph. Tom, his face awash with relief at the dismissal, tapped in the code and hastily disappeared behind the thick steel door.

"I heard that today was the big day, so I thought I'd come to say goodbye in person before I started walking the block," Sam said as he took the clipboard out of Raph's hand to check that the paperwork was in order.

Raph bumped knuckles with the kid in greeting. He'd always liked Sam, ever since the kid had walked through the gates five years earlier, brand new to the job. His aloof, carefree nature had reminded him a lot of Mikey, as well as the fact that he always smiled, no matter how shitty the inmates and other guards treated him. That was a big reason why when one of the lifers had started hassling Sam during his first week of walking the block, Raph had stepped in and advised the guy to back off. He'd gotten a broken jaw for his trouble, but Sam had made sure that he'd been given a cushy spot in sick bay during his recovery.

Since then, Sam had always had Raph's back, and in return, he'd shown the kid the ends and outs of the prison. It was a quid pro quo kind of system, but the young CO picked it up very quickly. Sam would hear word of upcoming riots or escape attempts before anyone else, and in exchange, Raph received phone cards to talk to his family. Everybody seemed to win; well, except the guys whose plans had been foiled.

"Got a place to go?" Sam asked curiously as he flipped through the last of the forms and slipped them back through the plexiglass divider.

"Yeah. My brother said I can stay with him until I get a place of my own."

"Is he picking you up?"

"Nah, just thought I'd take the bus. Mikey usually sleeps in until about ten anyway."

Sam grinned, then started when he caught sight of the clock over the door.

"Shit, I've got to get back to work." He pointed to a niche that opened into a short hallway behind them. "There's a washroom over there so you can change into your street clothes. Go down the hall and to the right; you can't miss it."

"Thanks, Sam. I appreciate it."

The correction's officer flashed his movie star smile then held out his hand for Raph to shake.

"I hope we meet again under different circumstances, Red."

Raph looked at the offered hand for a moment, puzzled, then felt a flood of gratitude as he took it.

"Yeah. Sure."

He released the hand and watched as Sam strolled lazily to the heavy door, punched in the code and closed the door behind him.

Sam had been one of the only humans in the place to treat Raph with any kind of dignity during his time on the inside. The rest of them had treated him like garbage. He couldn't count how many times he had been smacked around by a guard for just standing in their breathing room for so long. But he wouldn't fight back. He had needed to prove that he could be safe outside, and he had worked his ass off trying to keep his beak clean.

He walked down the hall, stepped into the washroom and shut the door behind him. He was suddenly glad that Mikey had made sure to bring clothes that fit. He was sure that the clothes he'd been booked in wouldn't fit him anymore. He carefully removed the orange jumpsuit and slipped on the pair of faded jeans, then the white undershirt, and finally, the red hoodie.

Before mutants were brought into the public eye, it had been acceptable for he and his brothers to not wear human clothes, but now, social norms dictated that he wear them, unless they wanted to pay fines for indecent exposure. He'd found clothes itchy and uncomfortable for a very long time, but now he donned them without any difficulty.

He was surprised that his custom-made tennis shoes were still among his possessions. They could have been hawked for a few hundred bucks easily and just written off as a fuck-up of the corrections department. Whatever. There was no way that he would look this gift horse in the mouth. He slipped the shoes on and tied the laces deftly.

Once he had dressed, he reached into the bag to fish out the remaining items, like his wallets, keys and his T-Phone, which, as he had expected, was long dead. At the bottom lay a scrap of tattered red cloth, with two eye holes cut out of the center. It had been so long since he'd seen it, he almost didn't recognize it. Fishing it out, Raph held it in his hands for a long time and rubbed the faded material between his fingers, feeling the softness of it against his skin.

It represented everything that he had once been: a mutant turtle, hiding in a sewer, away from the prying eyes of the world. The surface world was a place that, for the first fifteen years of his life, had been a mystery. Even after they were allowed to travel outside of their safe haven under the cover of darkness, there had been danger, excitement. But the lives that they had led were so much different than that of the humans. Raph had spent most of his life wondering what it would be like to have the kind of freedom that they possessed; not having to hide who they were and getting to do the things that they wanted to do. There was only so much that a mutant could do to give his life meaning.

Then, all of a sudden, like the answer to the most secret of prayers, the golden gates had been opened to them with the president signing of the Equal Rights for Mutants and Aliens Act into law almost ten years before. Mutants and aliens of all kinds could now be recognized as citizens of the United States, with all of the rights and privileges that came with it. Opportunity had been laid out before them like an all you can eat buffet, ready for the taking. Raph and his brothers now had the opportunity to do everything they had ever wanted to do. They could get jobs, have homes, get lives of their own. They no longer had to hide their faces from the world.

But there was a cost to getting everything they had ever wanted, as they quickly discovered. And the cost had been an infestation of humans who were convinced that they were monsters and that they didn't deserve to have the same kind of equality that they had. They had expected people to still be afraid of them, but they did not expect the kind of senseless brutality that came from single minded humans that did not want the influence of mutants around them or their children. The exclusion, the riots, the picketing of government buildings to revoke the law was enough to make any mutant give up hope. And many of them had.

Raph stuffed the mask into his back pocket along with his keys, wallet and T-Phone. He would decide what to do with it later.

The man behind the counter glowered at him as he passed through the office on the way to the main reception area. The garish light from the industrial lights blinded him as pushed through the door. A grandmotherly woman sitting at the chipped wooden desk offered him a weak smile, which he gave no effort to return. He was weary down to the marrow in his bones, and he just wanted to go back home.

Stepping out onto the sidewalk, Raph shivered at the bite of the October chill. It really sucked to be cold blooded. There was a bus stop about half of a mile away, which usually stopped there at about half past nine. He should just make it. Sticking his hands in his pockets, he ambled through the prison parking lot toward the bus stop.

The glass that surrounded the bus stop was covered in graffiti and crude spray paintings of dicks and what Raph guessed were supposed to be boobs. Classy New York. A man wearing a set of large earphones interrupted jamming to the hard rock song he was listening to to stare at Raph and his giant biceps. The look was uncomfortable and annoying, so Raph met his gaze until the man looked away awkwardly.

A large forest green bus that could have been driving the streets for a couple of decades rumbled up the street and Raph stood a little more at attention. The bus shuddered to a stop at the curb, its undercarriage groaning piteously as the brakes hissed. The doors slid open and he stepped up into the bus ahead of the guy with the headphones. The driver looked him over with a distrustful expression.

"Got enough for the fare?"

Raph wordlessly handed him a five dollar bill and headed back to find a seat. The bus was nearly full, only a few seats were unoccupied. A few of the passengers eyed him suspiciously as he approached, probably thinking that he was going to hijack the bus and take them all to Quebec or something.

Looking around, he saw an old man sitting in the middle of the bus, clutching the handle of a small duffel bag in the seat next to him. Raph approached him and offered his most disarming smile. The man saw him and the look on his face reminded Raph of Mikey's face when they used to tell ghost stories as kids.

"Excuse me, can I sit here?" He beckoned toward the seat where the duffel bag was sitting. The old man looked hesitantly between him and the bag, then shook his head.

"I... I need my bag next to me. Sorry."

"Oh, come on, man! You could put it in your lap..."

"I-I said no! Just go away..." The old guy was quivering in terror, like Raph had sprouted horns and a set of bat wings.

"Hey!" The bus driver called irritably, looking in the rear view mirror. "Take a seat or get off the bus!"

Raph's eye twitched and he was about to tell the driver to mind his own damn business with someone tugged on the back of his hoodie.

"There's a seat here," said a squeaky voice.

A teenager in a backwards baseball cap waved at an empty seat next to him. Raph grunted his thanks and sat down heavily in the seat. The bus groaned loudly as it pulled away from the stop and rumbled down the street.

Raph felt the kid's eyes searching him earnestly. He ignored the stare and looked around the bus. He was the only mutant among the passengers, and he stuck out like a sore thumb. Pulling his hood over his head, he hunkered down in his seat and half wished that he'd taken Leo's offer to have him picked up. He just hadn't wanted to face his brother's judging gaze so soon after achieving his freedom, otherwise, he would have consented. All of these slack jawed humans staring at him was really starting to piss him off.

"So, you just got outta jail, huh?" the kid next to him asked with ghoulish curiosity. Raph shrugged indifferently, still not looking at him. "What did you do?"

"I killed a kid who asked too many questions," Raph said offhandedly. All color ran out of the kid's face and he didn't say another word to him for the rest of the journey. That suited Raph just fine.

Finally, the bus clattered up to a stop with a hiccup and a cough of pitch black smoke. Raph disembarked from the bus as quickly as he was able and looked around the busy sidewalk. Mikey's apartment building was only about twelve blocks from there so he figured that he would just walk. Sticking his hands in his pockets, he lumbered up the street in the direction of the building.

A cat-like mutant woman passed by him at a street corner, her black coat shining in the morning sun and her pointed ears lying flat against her head. Her bright yellow eyes were bright with unshed tears as she looked away from him to an indeterminate spot on the sidewalk. He vaguely wondered what could have made her so upset for only a moment before seeing the fresh ketchup and mustard stains on the back of her blouse. Some bastard had thrown his hot dog at her...

He was so distracted by the realization that he didn't see the tall man in a business suit until he almost collided with him. The man's eyes flashed with annoyance as he glared at Raph, a snarl turning his face into a grotesque mask of disgust and rage.

"Get back in your hole, freak!" the man shouted in his face, shoving him out of the way. Raph growled savagely, but didn't fight back. He'd just gotten out of prison; if he went straight back within half an hour for beating down some self-satisfied stuffed shirt, Leo would never let him live it down. He was already going to have a hard enough time facing Mr. Perfect Turtle once there wasn't a two inch thick plexiglass window separating them. All he could do was to grit his teeth, keep his eyes straight ahead and lumber on without a word.

A woman hurried her child past him quickly, casting a furtive glance at him as they passed. He wasn't really offended at the gesture. The years hadn't exactly been kind to his appearance and as a result, he did faintly resemble a monster.

He'd had plenty of scars before he went inside, but he had collected several more from various brawls and scuffles. He now had large, jagged scars on his face, one of them curling his lip into a permanent snarl, which made him look especially menacing. He'd also bulked up to almost twice his original muscle mass and his skin had become thicker and more scaly than it had been when he was a teenager. He had worked hard to make himself look as threatening as possible, and now, his form was enough to frighten men, women and children alike.

Once a monster, always a monster, he supposed glumly as he considered his reflection in the window of a hair salon. One of the women inside glared at him for a moment before Raph decided to move on. No need to cause a scene.

A rumble of thunder echoed over his head, pulling Raph's attention to the dark storm clouds looming overhead. He grimaced as the first drops of cold autumn rain sprinkled on his hoodie. Damn, he thought as he hurried up the the sidewalk, Should've thought this though a little better…

He hoped that Mikey had breakfast waiting for him when he got to the apartment. What he wouldn't give for a hot cup of real coffee right now... After nearly mowing down a group of teenagers who had also been caught in the storm, Raph ran full tilt toward the apartment building. One hour out of incarceration and so far... It was all amounting to shit.