The snowflakes swirled around his nose as puffs of his breath arose in front of him as he walked along towards his favorite pizza pick-up joint, Pizza Joes. A few years ago he and his brothers had helped the owner, Joe, out of a stick up situation and in gratitude had guaranteed the boys free pizza whenever they wanted. Tonight, because of the snow, Michelangelo had volunteered to go out in the cold to get them some of the comforting cheesy-goodness. Though he and his brothers found it uncomfortable in the winter in New York, he loved the snow.
The box was warm through the ragged gloves he wore. The smell was enough to make him consider sneaking a corner piece for himself before he got home, but he resisted the temptation. Why bring Raph's fury down on him when he could avoid it? His feet slid in the gray slush as he came to a stop. The route he had taken to the restaurant was now blocked by a delivery truck and some men unloading boxes into the department store's receiving doors. The truck blocked the manhole he used to come up earlier. He turned and looked back down the alley to the street. A few cars slid through the grey snow. He sighed. The pizza was steadily growing cold as he considered dropping into the nearest sewer manhole cover and hoofing it through the sewer back to the lair. But the snow was just so pretty, he wanted to walk in it a little more.
"Ah nuts," he said under his breath, reconsidering how mad Raphael would be if he came home with the pizza cold. He pursed his lips; decision made. "Raphael will just have to deal."
He doubled back and after going a few blocks, took another alley. Walking along; feet sluicing through the mush; blue eyes scanning the sky and the twirling white puffs filling the dark air around him. Something jumped out from a pile of garbage cans, startling him. He breathed a sigh of relief as he saw the two slim shadows of cats slip by him.
"Here, kitty..." he called but they had gone, disappearing into the inky darkness. "Hey, I was gonna share some of this pepperoni with you," he called. Disappointed, he shrugged and moved on, soon passing where they had emerged from.
Michelangelo glanced sideways and froze in his tracks. There up against the bricks of the building nestled between the cans and piles of garbage was the shape of a person. He swallowed and took a step backwards, eyes darting around, shoulders up against his neck. He'd run into homeless people before and it was never pleasant. He'd learn to avoid random strangers, and just about everyone up top were on that list. A gust of wind twirled snowflakes in front of him and he paused. The person made no move, no sound. Come to think of it, why were they out here in the frigid cold without even a coat...Or pants?
He leaned over slowly, his eyes roving from the person's heeled black shoes, coated in frost, up the bare legs covered in torn nylons, to the skimpy, sequined skirt and the crumpled body. It was a woman. Was she hurt? He crouched, set the pizza boxes down in the snow and with a shaking hand reached out and pushed at the person's shoulder. On closer inspection it was clearly a woman not much older than him. Her head hung down; eyes open, ringed in heavy mascara and dark circles. The grey iris stared out at nothing. Michelangelo felt his heart hammering; mouth dry suddenly, the sick dread sitting like a pit in his stomach. With a trembling hand, he checked for a pulse like Donatello had taught him years ago, under one side of her jaw, along her throat. Nothing. Her skin was icy to his touch. He frowned. Something in her face...why did she look familiar...? Then a memory crept from the cellar of his mind...
…
The sun blazed over head. Michelangelo was blind from it. The inside of his eyelids glowed deep red. His smiling face upturned taking in every last bit of it. Nothing in the world felt as good as this. He knew he was breaking Father's rule about going above ground, but this felt so good and Raphie had promised to keep him safe. Besides, Raphie also promised a surprise treat. Michelangelo was giddy with anticipation. The music from the street fair came in waves adding to the joyous moment. How he wanted to join his brother slipping through the crowd unseen; to get so close to all these wonderful people! Suddenly, his older brother was there; the red bandana covering his eyes and top of his head made him look especially cool; made them all look like real ninjas, Michelangelo thought as he tugged at his own straps from his mask. Raphael skidded to a stop in front of Michelangelo where he sat hidden behind the trailers and empty boxes of the street fair participants.
"I got it!" He said excitedly.
Mikey almost clapped with excitement. He looked from Raphael's face to the prize in his hands. The pink, fluffy cloud looked more like something Splinter would stuff their pillows with rather than eat. Michelangelo gave Raphael a puzzled look.
"You sure we eat this?" he asked.
Raphael shrugged. He made a big show of pulling off a glob and stuffing it into his mouth; Mikey watching his every move with wide blue eyes. Raphael quickly brought his hands up to his throat, crossed his eyes and started to gag and choke.
"P...Poison!" He gurgled.
"Raphie!" Michelangelo screeched and knocked the cone of cotton candy out of his hand.
"Hey, idiot! I was just kidding, sheesh."
"Not funny!"
Raphael stooped and picked up the cone, laughing. He offered it to Michelangelo with a shake of his head. Michelangelo grabbed a handful and slowly brought it to his mouth. He opened it a crack and stuck out his round, pink tongue. He lightly licked it and instantly felt the cottony feel give way to melty, sugary sweetness. He quickly stuffed the handful into his mouth, licked his sticky fingers and hurriedly grabbed for more.
"Save some for me, I'm the one who snuck between those humans to get it, you know. I should get the most."
"Nuh-huh." Michelangelo grabbed at it again and his older brother stretched his arm, keeping it out of his reach. Just then a gasp froze them in place. Raphael and Michelangelo's eyes opened into wide circles. Michelangelo stared past Raphael's up stretched arm behind him.
A girl, no older than Mikey, maybe four or five years old, stood in the alleyway between trailers, clutching a striped bag of popcorn. Her golden blond hair was done up in uneven pigtails. One sock covered her knee while the other hung limply at her ankle. She stared at them, her mouth open a bit and Michelangelo, his mouth sticky from the cotton candy, mirrored her expression exactly.
Hardly moving his mouth, Raph whispered, "someone's there?" Michelangelo nodded.
"Shit," Raphael swore. Michelangelo frowned.
"Don't say bad words, Raphie," he scolded, trying his best to sound like Leonardo, who repeated that many times a day to his brother.
"Hello," she said in a tentative voice. A voice so sweet that Michelangelo's fear was quickly replaced with curiosity.
A smile spread across Michelangelo's face. "Hi," he said shyly and brought up his hand to wave.
"No, Mikey!" Raphael hissed, smacking at Michelangelo's hand. Michelangelo held his wrist up to his chest, a hurt expression across his face. Raphael dropped the rest of the cotton candy, grabbed Michelangelo roughly by the wrist, spinning him around and took off running.
"Shit, shit, shit!" Raphael swore as each step hit the street.
Michelangelo felt a pang of sadness as he glanced over his shoulder at the shrinking form of his potential new friend. The little girl reached out to them; waving goodbye; then was gone as they rounded the corner.
...
Michelangelo carefully swept the strands of icy hair from the young woman's face. His heart constricted. It couldn't be her, his mind protested, but his heart knew. It knew.
…
The childhood memory faded; replaced with one more recent, only a few years ago; when Michelangelo turned sixteen Raphael wanted to do something "special" for his little brother. Raphael promised they wouldn't be caught and the many times they'd broken Splinter's rule over the years, Raphael was good to his promise; he never told and neither did Michelangelo; Splinter never found out, that he was aware of. Though he did feel guilty about it, it wasn't often; this was a special day, besides. They snuck in the movie theatre through a back door. The seats were mostly empty as they crept to the far back, slipping in completely ignored by the few people already seated. Michelangelo was excited to a point of bursting. His shoulders trembled as he slipped into his seat next to Raphael who promptly handed him a bag of popcorn.
"Where the heck did you get this?" Mikey hissed, glancing at the overcoat his brother wore, trying to figure it out. Raphael's eyes glittered in the dim light. A wicked smile played across Raphael's face as he slid down in his seat. A guy a few rows in front stood up.
"What the hell...?" the guy muttered. He cast around the seats left and right of him, then turned to his date, "Uh, be right back, I must've set the popcorn down somewhere."
Mikey slid down further, eyes wide in fright, ready to bolt for the exit. He looked at Raphael who only shrugged.
"Movie ain't no fun without the popcorn, right?"
Mikey repressed a giggle and happily dug into the popcorn as the first previews began before the film, Last Ninja On Earth, started. His heart pounded in his chest from the thrill of just being there in the darkened theatre with people only a few feet away from them; blending in with the audience as if they did this every week. Just a couple of guys going to see the show. No big deal. But it wasa big deal to Mikey, he'd always remember this night as one of his best. Raphael was the greatest brother ever!
After the movie ended and the last of the credits rolled up, the two brothers slipped unseen out into the alleyway behind the theatre. In the middle of recreating one of the death scenes, Mikey stopped Raphael in his tracks with his hand to his brother's middle. Raphael snapped his attention to where Mikey was looking. A few yards ahead, a man and a woman. He had her pinned against the bricks; slapping her across the face again and again. Michelangelo winced, could almost feel each blow. Raphael was on the guy in a breath, knocking him back and down. Garbage cans rattled as the man fell into them. Michelangelo grabbed the girl as she tipped to one side, propping her up by her shoulders.
"Easy, easy," he said softly; tried to keep his head down.
Blearily, she looked at him. He glanced up into her face and caught his breath. Her eye was blackened and her lips swollen, blood oozed in a thick stream from one corner. Her eyes were blue-grey and something in her face struck a chord within Mikey's mind. Before he could put his finger on it, she pulled him into a tight embrace.
"M...My friend," she slurred in his ear; her breath reeked of alcohol. She pressed a bloody kiss to his cheek. "I knew you were really...real," she breathed. "You safe me…"
Michelangelo's face colored and he felt his body grow warm as she pressed herself against the front of him and writhed against him sensually.
"Uh...um..."
The sound of Raphael swearing and kicking the man brought him to his senses. He carefully pried her arms from around his neck. Suddenly, her body went slack.
"Uh, Miss," he started, but saw she was out. "Right." He bent and picked her up under her knees and back and turned to Raphael who kicked the crumpled form of the man on the ground one more time in his stomach. The guy didn't make a sound.
"Where are you takin' her?" Raphael asked as they jogged down the alley.
"Um, I dunno, away from that guy who was hitting her."
Raphael snorted, "He won't be hittin' no one again for a while."
They ran in silence for a while and as they pass under the street lights Michelangelo watched the girl's face light up and disappear in the shadows. As her face relaxed it hit him. The little girl at the street fair all those years back, he was sure of it. He'd never forget her face. It was etched into his memory like a scar.
"Where the heck we goin' little bro?"
Then Raph had his answer. The mission loomed like an immense shadow out of the broken alleys and run-down apartments. The cross gleamed gold in the flood lights. Michelangelo carefully laid her down and reached up and rang the service bell near the door. Quickly they slipped back into the shadows as the door opened and a man stepped out. He gasped at the form on his stairs, then peered into the night before calling inside for someone to come help him.
"I've seen people come here, on the news…when they need help. So, you know, I thought…"
"Nice job, Mikey."
Raphael patted him on the back of his head. Mikey gave him a smile but dread ate at his stomach. He saw the way she was dressed. He knew she was in bad shape. She was one of those people that Splinter threatened and warned his sons to steer clear of no matter what. He only hoped the people at the mission could help her and maybe give her a chance at a better life. Just maybe he was able to save her...
...
The tears were cold against his face. Snowflakes clung to the wet tracks for an instant before melting as he gathered her up in his arms. Her body was stiff, but he managed to lift her from the spot where she'd spent her last moments. An empty liquor bottle rolled out of her hand. He made a conscious effort to ignore the chewed marks on her right fingers and hand; the dried, black blood where the cats had...he shook his head as another torrent of tears spilled from the corners of his eyes.
It didn't take long before he was standing in the familiar shadow of the mission. His hand trembled as he rang the bell, then he turned and fled out of sight; never looking back once. It didn't matter if someone came right away, they'd get to her eventually. A sob broke free from the squeezing pain in his chest; he ran hard; back to where he found her; grabbed his brothers' dinner and nearly threw himself into the darkness of the sewers below.
...
"Hey, where the hell have you been?" Raphael called angrily from the couch as Michelangelo tossed the soggy pizza boxes onto the table.
Donatello and Leonardo were on the food immediately.
"I'm starving," Leonardo said as he and Donatello each grabbed a piece. Leonardo watched his brother hang up his jacket and head for his room. He seemed unusually quiet. Leonardo called to him, "Aren't you having some?"
Donatello bit into his slice and wrinkled up his nose. "Uh, Mikey, it's cold!"
"'M not hungry," Michelangelo mumbled and went to his room.
Raphael shook his head in disgust.
"Cold pizza for a cold night, this is just great. Next time, I'll go. And I'll make sure it comes back hot."
Leonardo nodded absent-mindedly, a thoughtful look on his face. Raphael punched him lightly on the arm, breaking his reverie. A slice of pizza hung from his mouth, with two hands he pantomimed playing a video game. Leonardo smiled and nodded. They dashed to the sofa and started up a game. Donatello sat on the edge of the couch to watch, making comments of how badly Leo would beat Raph tonight just to egg him on. Leonardo glanced over his shoulder in the direction of Michelangelo's room; an unsettled feeling in his gut. Well, he didn't look injured. Leo sighed and Raphael nudged him again with his elbow.
"I'm already beatin' you, Leo. You suck so bad."
"Well see about that," he said and turned his full attention to the screen. Just another normal Friday night in the lair.