Some Of Us Can Reach For The Stars, a ninja turtles fanfic

We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars. Oscar Wilde

Title: Some Of Us Can Reach For The Stars…

Rating: R, for mature themes and sexual situations

Warnings: incest, slash

Universe: Mirage (2003)

Summary: Don has been more on edge lately, and I wish Leo would get off my shell. But what's with Michelangelo all of a sudden, going off on his own all the time? Isn't that usually what I do?

Notes: My first fanfiction in a long time, and my very first TMNT fic. Reviews aren't required for me to continue this, but are nevertheless very happily received, no matter if good or bad. No flames for the slashiness or the incest though, please. You have been warned, and if you read it, it'sbecause you want to read it, not because you have been tricked or cheated.

Some Of Us Can Reach For The Stars…

By Reija Linn

My name is Raphael, and right now, I'm once more cruising the streets on the shell cycle, trying to escape from home, trying to flee what I can't really leave behind me in anything else but battle anyway. But, what the hell, I can still try – though I'm sure Master Splinter wouldn't approve. I'm old enough to think for myself now.

Things have been getting difficult lately, back in the ol' sewer home. Don's burying himself in his techno stuff more and more, but what else is new. Though he's never been quite that… distant before. As if our mere presence got on his nerves. He's getting frustrated more easily, too, not to mention cranky.

Now Leo, he's really getting on my nerves. I mean, he's always been the good, ambitious one of us, born leader and all that shit. And he's always trained hard for it, I have to admit. But during the last couple of months, he's hardly been doing anything else, and you know what they say about all work and no play. Besides, I've tried doing extra training with him, just to get some tension off my shell, but our fights never seem to stop at training. I guess that's partly my fault, but Leo hasn't exactly been himself lately, either.

The strangest change has come about in Mikey, though. Normally, it's me escaping the lair, having to release some anger on the streets, most of the time actually hoping some purple dragon shits come along, giving me the satisfaction of a real fight. Not that any of those punks are a real challenge, nowadays. But Mikey, he used to be content with staying in, watching TV or playing on his stupid console, eating pizza and chips all day and cracking some silly jokes, getting on all our nerves. Mine in particular. Now, he goes out almost every evening, and none of us know where to. I can tell Master Splinter isn't happy about it, but he doesn't stop him, either, or allow any of us to do so. Not that I would, but you know Leo.

Well, and mind you, I wouldn't say this to his face, it would just give him an even bigger head and make him even more unbearable… but I actually miss the old Mikey, even though he did get on my nerves major time. I guess Master Splinter is right and you don't know what you've got till it's gone. But somehow, Mikey always used to manage to relieve tension in the lair, when Leo and I got to each other, or when Don was having a bad case of the nerves over some experiment. Or when we needed a break from Master Splinter's training, not because we wanted to shirk around it, but just to make us see there was something worth training and working for, a brighter side to our life in a stinking sewer. Now it seems that Mikey is the one who needs cheering up, for some reason of his own, but none of us can fill that job description.

Oh, well, time to go back, I guess, and face the music. It's getting kinda late, and who knows what could turn up to late-night dinner uninvited…

Everything seemed quiet around the abandoned warehouse on Eastman and Lair's when Raphael came back on his motorbike. No sign of purple dragons or other, more dangerous enemies, and no sign of people who presented a danger just as grave, but more subtle. And it's hard to be more subtle than ninja.

Raphael parked the shell cycle in the back of the truck, in case they'd need it on one of their team ventures, and took off his helmet and biking gear, worn less for protection from accidents and more for protection from human sight. He took a deep breath and entered the elevator to the lower sewers, prepared for his usual ticking off from Leo and the fight between them that would most certainly follow.

Instead, as he entered the lair, he saw Leonardo, Donatello and Master Splinter turn around hopefully, then saw their expressions fall as they found it was only him.

"Always nice to see I've been missed," he grumbled, not really annoyed because he knew his brothers were long used to him staying out late and leaving him to it.

"Have you seen Mikey?" Leo asked quickly, almost before Raphael had finished his sentence. He was surprised to hear none of the usual annoyance about his going solo in Leonardo's voice, but only concern.

"Naa," he answered, biting back a remark. This sounded serious.

"Only," Leo continued, "he's been acting kind of weirdly lately, and he hasn't come back in all evening."

"Well," Raphael replied, "this is Mikey you're talking about. Weird doesn't begin to fill the description. Besides, I haven't been in all evening either, so get off his shell already." He began swirling one of his sai in the air, prepared for Leo jumping at him as he usually would – proverbially – and trying to look nonchalant.

"Stuff it with your attitude, Raph. Even a thick-shelled idiot like you's got to notice there's something not alright with Mikey, and it wouldn't hurt you to show a bit more concern. He's not usually stupid enough to stay out that long by himself without telling us where he's going. What if something has happened to him?"

Raphael tucked his sai back into place in his belt. "Even Mikey should be able to deal with the purple dragons, and there's not much else going on at the moment." He glared at his brother as if challenging him.

"Well, Leo's right," Don chimed in. "He has been gone longer than usual, and I can't find his shell-cell's signature anywhere. There have been rumours about the foot having grouped together again under a new leader – I bet they're not too happy about what happened to Shredder, and they know who to thank for that."

"Oh, alright, so maybe he is in trouble. That would be just like him." Raphael turned away from his brothers, calling back over his shoulder. "I'll go look for him." Then he proceeded back towards the elevator.

"Raphael." Master Splinter's voice made him stop midway. "Wait. My sons, I must talk to you. All of you." At this, Raphael grudgingly turned back, but remained on his feet. "You have all noticed that you have changed in the past months. I have left you to figure out these changes on your own up until now, but I feel it is time for us to talk."

"What's there to talk about," Raphael grumbled. "Mikey's been acting like an idiot, so what else is new?"

"Raphael, you have all been acting differently. Yes, even you. You have been more on edge. Each of you has tried to follow their own way, which is good, but you have all seemed to have forgotten how to work together." The old rat sighed as he regarded his three present sons. "You are maturing, and yet you are straying from your path. You need to work together to achieve your goals. You have to help each other, not fight about your priorities. I will not always be here to guide you. And even while I am here, there are some things I cannot help you through. Michelangelo needs your support now more than ever."

Master Splinter's words silenced them all for a moment. Though none would admit it, they were feeling a bit uncomfortable and embarrassed over their teacher's speech. Was something really wrong with Mikey, something worse than his usual phases, and none of them had noticed, too wrapped up in themselves? They regarded each other awkwardly, until finally Raphael turned around again.

"Well, I'm off topside. He's got to be somewhere."

"Raph," Leo called him, and Raphael stopped in his tracks once more, though not looking back.

"Yeah?"

"Just… be careful, and call in on your cell if there's anything unusual. Don can work on tracing him from the van, and I'll sift the sewers."

"Careful's my middle name," replied Raphael, and stepped through the opening doors of the elevator, waving a two-fingered goodbye.

TBC