Rescue Me

-Hey, it's Rocketshipper again, here with another fanfic. This time it's Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles! Whoo! When I was a kid I LOVED the cartoon show and watched it all the time. I must have rented the first season VHS tapes from the video store dozens of times over the years, as well as the live action movies, though I never actually watched much of the series on TV, so I never saw much beyond season 3. Eventually the series went off the air and I tired of renting the same handful of episodes and stopped watching, and didn't really have the motivation to pick up the DVDs or check out the newer shows and comics or anything UNTIL I heard about the anniversary crossover movie, Turtles Forever. That got me interested in the 2003 4kids series which turned out to be AMAZING, and just like that I was back into the franchise all the way. I re-watched the 80s show, started reading the comics (both the original Mirage series and IDW's new ongoing TMNT series) and even started watching the new CGI Nick show. And since I was a little kid my favorite characters in the franchise have always been Bebop and Rocksteady. I just love them! They were like the Team Rocket of the Turtle franchise. But unlike TR in Pokemon, they never really got much development in the 80s show beyond their dimwitted bad guy personalities, which always disappointed me. And I've never been able to find much TMNT fanfiction featuring the two of them (though a couple I have found by IndigoYeti and One Small Monkey have been excellent!) So I ended up coming up with my own story! I've had the idea for a pretty long time, but I ended up waiting until I rewatched the series again before trying to write it, and I'm glad I waited because there were still a lot of little elements here and there that didn't solidify until very recently. One of them was even the title and what it references ^^. So I hope everyone who decides to read enjoys this. I'm going to do things a little differently this time, and upload one or two chapters at a time on a schedule, instead of uploading the whole thing all at once. But don't worry, the entire story is already written, so it won't be orphaned or anything, it will all eventually be uploaded. As for the rest of the usual stuff, you know the drill. I don't own the rights to the TMNT characters or the other various pop-culture elements I utilized or made reference to (shhh. spoilers!), this is just for fun, not for any kind of profit. And that's it. See you at the end! Oh and this is obviously set in the 80s cartoon universe, taking place at some point after the end of the TV show and Turtles Forever, though I did bring in a few more realistic, grounded elements that wouldn't have typically shown up in the actual cartoon. Real guns actually exist, people can get hurt, a few things like that. So without further ado, I present my story!

Extra note: Well, maybe a little more ado. As will be pretty clear from the prologue chapter, this story contains some more overt spiritual elements to it than some of my previous fanfics. So if that kind of thing bothers you, or if you just think it doesn't mesh well with TMNT, then this may not be the best story for you. It will also be pretty serious at times; there is some of the 80's show silliness here and there, but overall it is a pretty serious story, even if it's set in the 80s verse. But if that hasn't scared you away, then enjoy!-

-Prologue-

A Surprising Visitor

Father Anthony walked out into the dimly lit sanctuary of the Church of St. John the Baptist as he continued the evening routine he performed every weekday night after the 5:30 mass. The room was now mostly empty, though a few parishioners still lingered in the pews, reading their Bibles or offering silent prayers to the saints above. Anthony walked towards the pulpit to begin extinguishing the candles that were still burning nearby when something caught his eye. The large man who had snuck in and lingered at the very back of the sanctuary about halfway through the Mass service was still there, leaning against the back wall where the shadows were the deepest.

Of course people often slipped in and watched from the very back during services, usually standing away from the pews and other people and near the doors where they might be able to slip out just as stealthily, should something end up scaring them off. Sometimes these were just people checking the scene out, dipping their toes in to see if this was a service or congregation that they might want to join, but many times these people were those who would not normally feel comfortable just walking straight into a church and sitting on the front row, like a "regular person". People who, for many varied reasons, might not feel comfortable or welcome inside the church proper or with the rest of the regular attendees, but who were still drawn to come, standing on the outskirts to hear whatever they could of the message that they often felt they might not be worthy to receive. Father Anthony in particular loved to greet these people whenever he could; to learn their stories and to try and make it clear to them that his congregation was an open and loving one, happy to welcome whomever wished to enter and fellowship, regardless of age, gender, race, sexual struggles, social standing, or the number and intensity of past mistakes. He had a special heart for those who were seeking but struggling with being able to enter a church and feel like they belonged there, he wanted everyone to be able to come freely to this church without fear. And so it was that Father Anthony decided to put his daily routine on hold for the moment and approach this man; to see if he was one of those who just needed a warm and sincere invitation to bring themselves out into the open.

As Anthony walked towards the back of the sanctuary, approaching the man, he noticed for the second time just how big the person was. He was easily a foot or so taller than Anthony, and extremely large and wide in his torso and shoulders. Anthony thought that he looked to have the build of a weight lifter or a wrestler, though he also thought he saw a bit of a beer belly in front as well. He stood too far back in the shadows to get a clear look at his clothing or what he really looked like, but Anthony thought that the man's outline, especially around the head, looked a bit strange, and wondered if maybe this man lingered in the dark because of some physical appearance issue for which he was ashamed. The man had been leaning against the wall in a posture indicating thought, but he suddenly jerked as if startled when Anthony approached and stepped back even further away from the light.

Anthony stopped and smiled warmly; pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose with one hand as he held up the other in a greeting. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you" he began, "I'm Father Anthony; I saw you come in earlier and since you're still here I thought I'd welcome you personally. Did you enjoy the service?"

There was a brief pause and Anthony wondered if the guy was just going to try and slip away, but then the man replied. "Yeah, it was nice." He said, "The music was really soothin. Don't know if I understood much of da message dough." His voice was somewhat gruff but also not as deep as Anthony had expected. He had a mild Brooklyn accent and Anthony detected in the cadence of the voice and grammar a bit of a "simple" element; of someone who either was a little bit "slow" or had not completed much education, either of which could explain the shyness.

Anthony decided to push forward a bit. "I'm glad you enjoyed it, and I hope you will return to worship with us again." He said. "If you do, I want you to know that you shouldn't feel hesitant to join the other parishioners in the pews. Ours is a very open and accepting congregation, we want all who come here to feel loved and welcomed. There is no need to stand apart back here".

The man shuffled his feet nervously and remained in the darkness. "I don't know about dat." He said reluctantly. "I'm…kinda different den most people. A lot different actually. I don't want to cause no trouble or nuttin'. I was fine back here."

Anthony nodded and smiled kindly. "I understand the reluctance that can come with being somewhere you feel you might not belong, but I assure you that no one would reject you here. Everyone is welcome, no matter who they are."

The man in the shadows crossed his arms in an obvious posture of incredulity. "You probably wouldn't say dat if you could see me." he responded.

Anthony frowned slightly. "Let me be the judge of that." he said, and then held up his hand to beckon the stranger out of the shadows. "Please come out into the light. No matter how you might look or what your social standing might be, it does not matter in this place. Man looks at outward appearances but God looks at the heart, and that is what matters."

The man uncrossed his arms and let them drop to his side in a sign of resignation. "Alright. But I did warn ya." And he took three large steps forward, entering into full illuminating range of the lights.

To his credit, Father Anthony did a very good job of keeping his composure. The only things that betrayed the surprise he felt were a slight widening of his eyes behind the lenses of his glasses, and a single small step back he took, neither of which the large stranger appeared to notice, which was probably a good thing. Anthony had given similar inviting speeches to other reluctant visitors to St. John's over the years, but never before had he found himself in such an immediate need to live up to the words he'd expressed as this particular moment. "Well, he certainly did warn me" Anthony couldn't help but think, as he took in the visitor standing before him.

The man was dressed in large black jean pants, and a camouflage patterned short sleeved t-shirt, with a brown bomber jacket on top, and he had two metal studded leather bands around his wrists. His feet were clad in two large brown work boots. In general, the man had the expected two arms, two legs, feet, hands, and head, but this fact and the clothes were where all of the expected details ran out. Every inch of the man's exposed skin was dark gray in color, and appeared to be much thicker and tougher than the skin of a regular person. Anthony noticed that the man's hands only had four digits each, a thumb and three fingers, instead of the expected five. But of course it was the final detail that drew the most attention. A long pronounced snout, with large open nostrils and a prominent curved horn growing from the end, with another smaller horn set back behind it. A mouth full of curved pointed teeth, some of which were visible even when his mouth was closed. Large pointed ears set back on the top of head. A set of expressive yellow eyes, now filled with weariness and apprehension as their owner waited for the reaction of the stunned human standing in front of him. In short, the man standing in front of Anthony looked to be a bipedal humanoid rhinoceros.

One word flashed immediately through Anthony's mind as he looked at his visitor. "Mutant". Like any good well informed citizen of New York City, Father Anthony was familiar with the latest news of the local famed super heroes of the city, the Ninja Turtles. They were mentioned on the Channel 6 news almost every other day, and their many battles with the notorious Shredder and other strange and exotic threats to the city were the stuff of water cooler conversations everywhere, and St. John the Baptist's was no exception. So Anthony, like many New Yorkers, was familiar with the idea of mutants, those strange beings with mixed up DNA from a variety of sources. But also like many New Yorkers, Anthony never really expected that he would ever encounter a real mutant, even the famous Turtles, in his day to day life. And yet here one stood, larger than life, only a foot in front of him. A spark of recognition sprang to life in Anthony's head. For some reason, this mutant seemed familiar to him, but he couldn't place just why.

Additionally, Anthony noted that this particular mutant looked as if he had just been through a nasty street brawl, and come out the loser. There was a large white bandage wrapped around the mutant's right bicep, just above the elbow, and a variety of smaller cuts and scrapes up and down both arms. The knuckles on both his hands were bruised and scraped, and his right hand in particular was badly swollen. His face was in a similar state, a mean looking purplish-red bruise surrounded his left eye, and another painful looking bruise showed on the top of the mutant's snout, in between the first and second horn.

The Rhinoceros man shifted his feet nervously, and fiddled with what looked like a bracelet that was wrapped around his right wrist, on top of the wrist band. Anthony quickly realized that it was an old wooden rosary chain, as he could see the small crucifix dangling down from the middle. "Well, now you see me." the mutant said, stealing himself for the inevitable request for him to leave.

Anthony cleared his throat and pushed his glasses up on his nose again, gathering his composure. "Yes, now I see." He replied diplomatically. "I can certainly understand why you would be reluctant to step out in the open in a place with many strangers. But I assure you that even a mutant like you is perfectly welcome here if he desires to come before God."

The mutant looked surprised. "Really? You mean you aint scared of me or nuttin?"

"Should I be scared?" Anthony asked. "You haven't done anything that looks threatening to me."

The mutant shrugged and looked a little sad. "A lot of people seem scared of me just cause of da way I look."

"Well as I said, Man tends to look at the outside, but God is concerned more about the inside." Anthony replied.

The mutant shrugged again. "That aint really any betta news for me. I aint much on the inside neither."

Anthony's face became serious and he nodded solemnly. "All of us have our own inner struggles and failures to deal with. And that is why God's love and grace is so wonderful." He nodded in the direction of the rosary the mutant was wearing on his wrist. "I take it that you are a Catholic?"

The mutant glanced down at his rosary, looking a little bit unsure. "Sorta...kinda, I guess." he replied, touching the crucifix on the rosary with his left hand. "My ma was. This used to be hers. She taught me a few prayers and stuff, when I was little. Tried to get me to come wit her. To church and stuff." His eyes looked pained at the memory. "But...Dad didn't really approve."

Anthony could tell that this recollection was a painful direction for the mutant, and picked up on a different thread. "Based on how you describe relating to your parents, I would guess that you were human, originally?"

The mutant nodded. "Yup, me and Bebop were both just regular guys before. We didn't become mutants until later."

Anthony frowned slightly at hearing another name in the conversation and then realized his own mistake. He blushed slightly and smiled, a bit annoyed with himself. "I just suddenly realized how terribly rude I've been." He began. "I introduced myself when we started talking, but I have yet to ask for your name in return."

The mutant rubbed the back of his head, looking a bit nervous. "Um, Rocksteady." he replied hesitantly. After a moment, the mutant stuck his left hand out, though he didn't look entirely comfortable.

Anthony cracked a small smile. "Is that like the music genre, or the song by The Whispers?" He asked, as he reached out and shook Rocksteady's hand. The skin felt thick and dry, like a rough piece of leather, and his grip was strong.

Rocksteady's eyes widened and he broke out into a large jovial grin. "Kinda both actually." he replied. "Not many people pick up on dat. I used to listen to dat song all da time."

Anthony nodded as he took back his hand. "Your parents must have been fans."

Rocksteady's smile dropped off and his eyes fell. "Nah. Wasn't dem dat gave me dat name. Bebop and me, we kinda named ourselves, after we came back to New York. Like a way of starting over."

Anthony smiled again. "Bebop and Rocksteady. I get it."

Rocksteady smiled back. "Yeah. Plus, all dose kids in the gang movies always had cool nicknames and we thought we should have em too, since we was looking to join up"

"And Bebop is the person you mentioned before, who mutated as well?" asked Anthony.

"Yeah, he's a mutant too. Part warthog." Rocksteady replied, nodding. "My best friend in the whole world."

"So what was your name as a human?" Anthony asked. "If you don't mind me asking?'

Rocksteady suddenly looked extremely uncomfortable, and for a moment Anthony worried that he'd inadvertently crossed the wrong line without realizing it. "Uh...I really do, actually." he said, twisting his hands together, taking a step back and looking like he was ready to bolt.

Anthony held his hands up in a reassuring gesture. "I'm sorry. It's ok. You don't have to tell me any details you don't want to." He said, trying to cool his guest down. "I was only trying to get to know you a little, as I seek to learn about all the guests who come here. But I want you to feel comfortable and safe here. If I offended you, I apologize."

Rocksteady still looked a bit uncertain, but was definitely becoming less jumpy. "It's ok." he said "Just...really don't want no one to know who I was back den. Bebop's the only one now who knows dat stuff."

Anthony nodded. "I think I understand" he replied, and then looked over Rocksteady critically, and decided to risk asking a more serious question. "Forgive me in advance if this is another too private issue, but I don't think anyone could help but notice the state of your body at the moment." He looked Rocksteady in the eye. "If you are in any physical danger outside of this place, then the church can extend its help to you if you desire." he stated, pointedly. "Though it would be hard to imagine someone of your size really being threatened by anyone." he added, smiling a little. "Or if the situation is of a more personally inflicted nature, we are ready to offer a listening ear and spiritual guidance if you feel you need to give confession. You..mentioned gangs earlier, did you not?"

Rocksteady kind of glanced over himself as he was becoming aware of his own injuries for the first time, then his gaze fell and he fidgeted nervously with the waist band of his pants. Anthony saw a combination of embarrassment and shame play over his facial expression. "Nah. We aint doing that kind of stuff no more dese days. At least we're tryin. Dis...dis was all my fault." He sighed and looked down at his feet. "I was bein a blockhead, and Bebop and my friends just hadta knock some sense into me."

Anthony frowned, suddenly looking very stern. "Friends who stick by you and hold you accountable are very valuable. But violence is rarely the proper answer to anything" he stated, looking Rocksteady straight in the eye again. "Whatever you did, it wouldn't justify mistreatment on their part."

Rocksteady's eyes widened and he shook his head vehemently, holding a hand up in a "stop right there" kind of motion. "No, no, I didn't mean it like that!" he said emphatically. "It really was all my fault." he raised his left hand and rubbed the back of his head again, looking supremely embarrassed. "I..wasn't in my right mind. Bebop was just defendin himself, I was da one who tried to fight." He hung his head and smiled sadly. "Mostly I just ended up hurtin myself." He pointed to the nasty bruise on his snout. "Dis is the only hit he actually gave me. The rest was all me." He laughed a little and pointed at his left eye. "Got dis just from fallin down afterwards. Pathetic huh?"

Anthony did not really feel convinced. Rocksteady's story did not sound all that different from the excuses he'd heard from many a damaged individual, unwilling to speak out against their abuser. But it often did no good to directly accuse them of fudging the truth or covering up their loved ones actions, so Anthony pushed his skepticism down and tried to dig a little deeper from another angle. "You said that you "were not in your right mind"? What do you mean by that?" Anthony asked.

Rocksteady rubbed his head again nervously and looked away, like a kid caught being bad by his stern teacher. "Well..." he began, stumbling a little with his words. "Basically...I was smashed out of my skull."

Anthony hadn't really expected that admission. "Really?" he asked. "You mean you were drunk?"

"Yup" Rocksteady replied, nodding solemnly.

Anthony felt a brief twinge of shame for having jumped to the wrong conclusion, and then an out flowing of compassion for the mutant. "Is this something that you struggle with often?" asked Anthony. After a brief internal moment of hesitation, he stepped closer the mutant and reached up and put a hand on Rocksteady's shoulder. The mutant looked surprised at the priest's gesture, but did not pull away. "We have resources that could help. You don't have to live with such a destructive addiction." Anthony said.

Rocksteady shook his head. "Nah, dat's not really da problem. I'm not an alchyholic or anyting like you're tinkin". He sighed and for a moment he looked almost heart-breakingly sad. "I just been dealin wit some tough stuff lately. In my head mostly. Dat rat guy says I need to be more..." He struggled a moment to find the word. "forgivin-like to myself."

Anthony nodded. He thought maybe he was finally starting to see the tip of the true picture here. "Yes. It can often be hard not to beat ourselves up when we know we've done something wrong. But if we've been forgiven then it is like a clean beginning".

"Yeah I guess." Rocksteady said, but by his face he didn't look like he quite believed it. "I'm not sure if dey really will forgive me dough."

Anthony squeezed Rocksteady's shoulder gently and then took his hand back. "It sounds to me, Rocksteady, as if you have some things weighing heavily on your soul."

Rocksteady just shrugged as if that was obvious. "Yeah no kiddin. I was a pretty bad guy for a long time. Me and Bebop both, we was always fightin with dem turtles and causin all sorts of trouble." Anthony's eyes grew wide as the recognition he'd thought he felt before suddenly clarified. Rocksteady's caught his change in expression. "What?" he asked nervously.

"It just clicked for me. When we first started talking I thought you seemed familiar, but I couldn't place why. But that's it." Anthony said, snapping his fingers. "I've seen you on the news. Along with your friend. That lady from channel 6 news...what's her name?"

"April O'Neil" Rocksteady supplied

"Yes her." continued Anthony. "She was always covering stories about the Turtles and that mad man Shredder who was always fighting them. And you and the other mutant were there too." He looked at Rocksteady with a great amount of surprise. "You work for the Shredder."

"Used to." Rocksteady replied, "We gave up workin for him a while back. Just...couldn't do it no more." Suddenly he gave Anthony another nervous look. "What!?" he asked again. Anthony was smiling at him.

The priest couldn't believe what he'd just figured out, though he chastised himself internally for not catching on sooner, the evidence was all there. He couldn't help but smile at the situation. "I just think it is an amazing and wonderful thing that you would be here at all." he began. "You worked for one of the most heinous madmen of the 20th century, and now you are here." he gestured to the sanctuary around him. "It just goes to show how far God's power can bring a person."

Rocksteady didn't look convinced at all. "I don't know how much he really had to do wit it." he said, scratching one of his ears, looking unsure.

Anthony smiled wider. "God is always at work around us even when we are not aware of him, even for those who do not yet acknowledge him." Rocksteady still looked skeptical, but Anthony caught him steal a glance at the rosary on his wrist, giving it a brief considering look. There was something there. Anthony reached out again and put a hand on Rocksteady's arm. "My son, I believe God has brought you here for a reason. You obviously have things weighing on your mind, issues and doubts you are struggling with." He nodded towards the row of wooden booths on the far wall of the sanctuary. "This is not the normal scheduled time for confessions, but I wonder if you might want to share with me the things that have been troubling you and the guilt you are carrying. It can be most therapeutic and freeing."

Rocksteady looked a bit embarrassed and uncomfortable at being called "my son" by the priest, but did not immediately reject the suggestion. "I..don't know. I've never done a confession before, in a church." He glanced at the confession booths with a bit of apprehension. "Don't tink I'd fit in one of dose anyway."

Anthony laughed. "Yes, that is probably true. But this does not have to be a formal "by the book" confession. For one thing you know the priest you are talking to already." He turned around and gestured to the nearest row of pews. "We can just sit here. I will listen to whatever you feel comfortable sharing."

This was the moment of truth, so to speak. Would this man decide to stay, or walk away possibly never to return? Rocksteady considered for a long moment. Anthony realized that he was half-way holding his breath and let it out in a quit woosh. Rocksteady dropped his arms to his side and silently walked forward and sat down on one of the pews. Anthony smiled to himself and sat down next to him. The mutant stared forward for a few moments, seeming lost in thought, and then let his head droop, his eyes falling to his hands in his lap. "I don't even know where to start." he said.

"Take your time. Don't rush." Anthony said kindly. "I am in no hurry. We can talk for as long as you like." He put his left hand on Rocksteady's shoulder. "Tell me your story."

And so Rocksteady did. He told him about being homeless on the streets, about gangs and fighting for survival, about the Shredder and Krang. And about when everything started to change.