TMNT's Angel

by LilyTheNinjaGirl

The turtles get into a battle with their nemesis, the Shredder. They lose and the three older turtles and Michelangelo are separated. What happens when Mikey meets a mysterious human being who promises to help him get his brothers back from the clutch of the Shredder? What happens when Shredder tries to convince Leo that he is the actual good guy and that Splinter is evil?ON HIATUS

1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own the TMNT franchise. All rights go to their respective owners.

Chapter 1:

Karai leaned over to examine Michelangelo. There he lay helpless at her feet. He was unconscious and his right arm was bleeding profusely. There was a wound on his head as well, and the dark red blood dripped to the ground. Karai gripped her Tanto so tightly in her hand that her knuckles started turning white. Raising it above her head, she took a deep breath and sliced it through the air down towards her victim.

The second before the steal made contact with the green skin and orange cloth, she hesitated. She just could not do it. She could not take the life of this young mutant turtle. He was so innocent, so pure. Almost like a child. Fury coursed through her veins. Why not? His so called 'father' had taken everything away from her! Everything! She must have her revenge. But she still couldn't bring herself to do it. What she was always sure was so right seemed so wrong all of the sudden.

His wounds were very serious. Much too serious. If not treated immediately he would most certainly die. She was sure of it. So why should she dirty her blade with his blood? Why should she have to bear the weight of his soul in hers? She sheathed her katana. Staring down at the young turtle's freckled face, she felt confused. This was what she had wanted to do her entire life. Get her revenge. Now that the chance had presented itself, she couldn't. She felt so mixed up. So alone, with no one to advise her.

Karai turned and slowly walked away. Turning out of the side alley she had been in, she stepped into full view of the rest of her father's henchmen. Tigerclaw looked at her questioningly.

"He is finished," she said. She turned her head and her gaze rested upon three other turtles, Michelangelo's older brothers. They were tied up in thick ropes. The ropes were so tight it cut at their skin. Raphael's eyes were filling with hot tears, but he would not let them fall. Not here, in front of his enemies. He had to be strong. But inside, his heart was broken.

Donatello, a purple mask on his face, was clearly trying to stifle his emotions as well. His breath was uneven and he was visibly shaking. His eyes were misty. He looked like he would break down and sob at any second. He was now the youngest brother. He felt like his heart would explode. He hadn't been there to give Mikey medical attention when he had fallen in the battle. Hadn't been there to comfort him.

Finally, Karai forced herself to look into the ocean blue eyes of Leonardo. He was the leader, the protector, and the oldest. He was the big brother and he had let his youngest brother perish. He blamed himself, she knew this. His eyes were empty. As hollow and bare as a bottomless pit. His face and body betrayed no emotion. But she knew it was there.

Leonardo was torn. Mentally and spiritually torn. He had lost his beloved little brother. The little brother who was so innocent and full of life, full of love. The little brother who could always make him laugh. The little brother who had trusted him, Leonardo, to protect him. And he had failed. Michelangelo was gone forever, and Leo had mentally and spiritually removed himself from this world as well.

Despite all of this, he remained physically strong. He refused to let his enemies see him suffer. Even more than that, he had two be strong for his two remaining brothers. They were not as open with their need for a leader, a hero, as Mikey had been. But he knew that the need was there.

Shredder's henchmen loaded the turtles into their van and drove away. No doubt they had a terrible and gory future of torture ahead of them. But nothing, absolutely NOTHING, could hurt them as badly as the knowledge that their little brother was dead.

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Michelangelo lay there in the small side alley, covered in blood. His heart rate had dramatically slowed, but not yet stopped. It was only a matter of time before his injuries overpowered his will to survive. His mind was blank. He could do nothing, see nothing. He began to slip into a coma. Slowly, his mind became engulfed in the dark shadows that dwelled in his worst nightmares. They dragged his mind down into their dark pit of despair bit by bit. Although he fought them, it was a fight few could win, His chances were small, and hope was little.

Unbeknownst to him, a shadow was observing him from a rooftop. It had been there long enough to see Karai leave. The observer was curious about this abnormality, this alien so unlike the human race. The observer waited for the creature to move. It did not. The observer had enough medical knowledge to know that whatever the thing was, it needed help. It could never survive on its own in this condition.

But the observer did not move to help. It was not his fight, not his problem. It was simply another bloody and brutal fight between enemies that had ended darkly. It was just another death. The silent observer had seen many.

Suddenly, something tugged on the observer's heart. Something that the observer had not felt in years. Something he had forgotten existed. It was compassion. He remembered what compassion was. He remembered things that he had hoped to forever extinguish from his mind. Even though it felt wrong, the observer had convinced himself it must be so. He would never be hurt again.

The feeling grew stronger. Seeing the young creature lying so still, so hurt. It had an innocent face, and upon it was tied an orange mask. Freckles dotted the creature's cheeks. It reminded the observer of something else. An image appeared in his mind. He tried to push it away, but in vain. Finally, the feeling overpowered the lies that the observer had been telling himself for years.

The observer silently made his way down to the ground. He was dressed in the traditional black outfit of the ninja. He glanced around and slowly approached the creature. He knelt by its side and wiped some of the blood off of its forehead. Then he sat down and coddled the creature's head in its lap. The observer knew he could not let this being die.

The observer smiled sadly beneath his face mask. He leaned down towards the creature's head and whispered, "It will be alright. I'm going to take care of you. No matter what. I promise." The breeze whistled through the air in response.