Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles® were created by K. Eastman and P. Laird, and all intellectual property/rights belong to Nickelodeon. This story is not made for profit, but for the love of writing and the TMNT® universe and will be removed from public view if Laird, Mirage Studioes, Nickelodeon or whoever else with the right to gives the say-so.
THE COMMON THREAD
Author Comments
Yes, I'm back, baby! Miss me?
I sadly can't make that many promises on how often I'll update TCT, although my aim is to update once every other month I know it'll be sporadic at best. I have school in the morning and from school I go straight to work in the evening. I also work in the weekends for the most part, so between having a social life and other interests I often find myself in lack of time to write. It's been the reason why this story was taken down in the first place, however this time I'm going to MAKE time to write rather than slag off. I do not believe in writer's block, so that's never been an excuse for me, I've just been lazy doing other things instead while getting discouraged too easily and I won't let it happen again. If anyone wants to beta or simply have a chat about TMNT or the story in general, don't hesitate to contact me. =D
I wish I could add "character study" to the genre, because that is how I actually would categorise this story if had it as an option. I'm quite certain that a lot of the old readers would agree to it judging from what I remember of the old reviews. =P There will be action, there will be comedy and drama, there will be angst and comfort, but first and foremost it's just me exploring how I see the Turtles and their universe. You do not have to agree with me, this is – in the lack of a better term – "my verse" of the TMNT. The Common Thread is loosely based on the events in the TMNT 4 movie, because it annoyed (and fascinated) me to the point where I simply had to open up Word and get writing. Even after the time since the movie came out, I still have that urge, which is why this story hasn't been abandoned.
I've tried to prevent myself from being very repetitive in my writing in general and I'd be thankful if you bother pointing it out if I go overboard. I'm grateful to any and all critique; though I do not aspire to become a famous author I don't mind pointers on how to improve my writing. As this is a rewrite I have to warn you that chapters go from "Mhm, can't tell the difference" to "ZOMG! What did she do?!" compared to how you read it the first time. To me, the biggest changes are to the character's personality and (what I hope is) a more mature tone overall, with less repetitive angst. After being a part of Stealthy Stories forum for about two years and taking part in lots of discussions, my view of the Turtles have changed somewhat from how it was when I first wrote this story. If you're a new reader, then naturally this won't really mean anything to you. However, if you're an old reader and you dislike the changes I've made I can only apologise, but I couldn't have picked up and continued TCT in any other way. The first chapter, at least, shouldn't hold any significant changes for re-readers.
Enjoy.
Prologue: The Big Apple
"Welcome to New York. Now get the fuck out."
~ t-short slogan
Throughout the day she hadn't been able to decide whether or not she liked New York.
On the downside there was this strange, undefined odour that filled every little nook and cranny. Eventually she ended up dubbing it "big city smell" - in lack of a more imaginative term. It was impossible to not rub your nose every now and again as if the scent had gotten caught up there somewhere. At some point she had this compulsive idea that if it wasn't up in her nose, then maybe it had manifested itself above her upper lip as a black spot which she started to rub at instead. There was also this racket of noise beyond anything she'd ever thought was possible; people chatting or even shouting at each other, cars honking their horns whenever their blood got to a simmer, alarms and police sirens, dogs barking at whatever and TVs and radios going at full blast from open windows. She knew it wasn't the noise itself that was so overwhelming, but the sheer quantity of it attacking her ears from all directions at once.
There wasn't much animal life, either. At least not looking aside what she was damn sure had to be a massive rat running down in a nearby ally, even if Brenda assured her it was more likely an alley cat. Her heart had even been up her throat earlier that day from seeing the pigeons going zigzag between an ocean of feet without any concern of being stomped flat against the gum-covered pavement. It was strange how different it was when you were used to far more rural environments to come to a world of concrete and steel. Maybe the New Yorkers thought it was nice, though, but she couldn't shake off the sense that it was too big and impersonal.
Not forgetting hectic, dirty and rude.
However, she had discovered that there was an upside. New York at night was by far more appealing to her. Even the tacky, neon signs - with their blinking animations which all demanded her attention at once - added to the city's nightly charm. It was alive in a different way than it had been during the day. With her head leaned against the car window she could feel how the city had, as by some unspoken law, slowly morphed into a new state; a new life form. One that was meant for those who had no intentions of sleeping just yet and where busy doing their thing: Be it drinking, to enjoy a laugh or dance the soles of their shoes off. Make love until the crack of dawn...
The thought brought a lazy smile to her face, a little surprised over herself. Even if she had been up early to do that sightseeing with Brenda and it was now almost four in the morning, she didn't feel exactly tired. There was only this overwhelming state of contentment as the gravity pull of a turn caused her body to push itself against the door in the car. It was nice to feel the cool surface of the glass press against her forehead for a brief moment. She didn't care, didn't mind and continued to contently watch as the building and streets whooshed by outside. It might be because she was drunk, she mused, thinking it explained her odd mindset at the moment. Then again she didn't feel intoxicated in any way other than this careless, happy feeling. Maybe it was what it took to truly accept this odd city, with its smells, noises and rush.
"Now watch this! You too, June!"
June's attention shifted from the passing scenery to the driver, Sean, as he made a new, sharp turn that forced her body to abide to the rules of gravity. It was a little odd how this time her change in attention along with the gravity pull made her stomach do some protesting summersaults. The high speed that made the scenery fly by also failed to offer the tires a good grip and the rubber tore off along the asphalt creating a high pitched scream. It was as if the car was wailing in protest to the treatment, June thought as she braced herself in an upright position to avoid further upset to her stomach.
To her slight surprise she felt dizzy alongside the slight twist to her gut. It wasn't there a moment ago. Maybe she should've focused more on the road rather than daydream. It got a little hard considering her thoughts were so quick to drift at any distraction. Like how strange it is how people fall into "types" whenever they get drunk. The thought occurs to her with a half smile. Brenda, her cousin, fell under those hysterically happy drunks who'll suddenly fall into a heap of giggles over an object or a situation only they can possibly see the comedy in. Maybe it was the expression of her face as their eyes meet or the turn or something unrelated all together, but something has Brenda in a fit of laughter in the passenger seat. Brenda, who tilts her head back and to the side when she laughs so you can see into her wide mouth and the space between her two front teeth becomes clearer.
June can't help it. It makes her laugh, too, because it's so strangely liberating. She's happy that Brenda talked her into visiting New York this weekend. She's happy that her cousin has a boyfriend who loves her and treats her well for once. She's content because she's allowed to just sit back and watch the buildings, streets and signs blur by as they drive home from the party. She's happy because it's night and the city has opened its arm to everyone who has found better things to do rather than sleep. But that careless, happy feeling suddenly turns into something uncomfortably heavy that settles in the pit of June's stomach when realisation hits her.
Sean was also drunk.
It's the only thing that goes through her head for a few frantic seconds as she tries to grasp the exact meaning of her new discovery. The smile still lingers on her face, if somewhat stiff and fading a little by each second. She knew this before, didn't she? Even as they got into the car and drove away from that guy's house, she knew he was drunk. It didn't matter then. Why does it suddenly matter now?
As the car goes through another turn she stiffens as the tires scream and Brenda tilts her head backwards in laughter.
"You shouldn't be driving," is her first meek protest that drowns under the other sounds so she has to repeat it with a firmer tone.
"Say what?" Sean doesn't look in the rear-view mirror to look at her, but turns his head sideways to glance at her from the corner of his eye!
That causes her to stiffen further and her hands grasp a hold of her seatbelt as if to steady herself for something horrible. June honestly doesn't know why she didn't protest when they got into the car to drive home. Sean didn't slur when speaking and was capable of walk a close-to-straight line, but wearing his alcohol better than some didn't make him any less drunk. Sean should've never gotten behind the wheel of this car. Nor should he have had any passengers.
"We got to park the car and get a cab!"
"Are you kiddin' me?"
"Sean, you're drunk..!"
By June's plead Brenda was giggling again, looking back at her cousin with a silly grin. In her drunken haze she laughed as if she'd never ever seen or heard anything as funny. June looked like a little kid who had just seen her pet get ran over, then backed up on and then ran over again to find a well-used image. It was more than enough to make Brenda lean her head back and to the side with laughter, utterly amused with the absurdity her own mind produced.
"We're fine, don't worry. I'm not even goin' that fast."
This was the best weekend ever!
Brenda leaned back into her seat and faced forward to see the familiar streets go by. She felt giddy with love for the New York nightlife that still pulsed through her veins, even from the after-party that honestly could've had more life... and liquor. If only Sean knew he wasn't her biggest love, she thought and turned to look dreamily out the window. This city was her first love and always would be. Boyfriends tended to come and go, often after leaving a few bruises, spiteful words and broken inventory. It was either bad taste or stupidity that brought those men in her life, or perhaps a combination of the two, but with Sean she had struck gold.
Even with June being halfway into hysterics in the backseat he was still patient with her. He'd even stopped showing off in the turns to try to calm her down. They had dated for seven months this Friday and Brenda hoped they'd always love each other like they did now. But, hell, she was a realistic girl. If it didn't work out for some reason she'd still have New York. At least that was a partner who treated everyone like crap. She knew what to expect from it and how to give it hell in return; it was a relationship that had worked well for them both so far.
"Sean!"
Brenda snapped out of her thoughts by the sudden outburst to turn her attention out on the road just in time to see something big land on the hood of the car, slide across the metal and impact her side of the windshield. The force caused the glass to break into a cobweb pattern before Sean's far-too-late evasive manoeuvre caused the creature to roll off and out of her sight. Even in those spit-seconds she could picture it hitting the asphalt with a hard, bloody thud before going into a messy, just as bloody roll... A far too real eerie sound snaps her back again. One that sends chills down her spine and she is unable to decide if the noise was from Sean standing on the breaks or June screaming. As the car suddenly jolted to a halt she could only stare forward into the web on the glass in a morbid fascination with its beauty and her heartbeats ringing in her ears.
"Oh, God, we killed someone..."
Even with that said, no one moved. With the engine off they just listened to the night, desperate for any sound to indicate what they had it. If it was still alive.
"Oh, Jesus Christ, we killed--"
"Shut up!" Sean shouted with an unsuited high pitch to his voice. And despite the horrible incident they'd found themselves in, Brenda couldn't help but think that it was highly unattractive.
It was amazing how fast you apparently sober up when there is an emergency. It's as if the brain knows that things are seriously fucked up and decides that "hey, let's just pull ourselves together" and stays like that until you manage to grasp the series of events just long enough to figure out how to react. And like that three people silently chewed on the fact that they had hit something. Ran it over. Injured it. Possibly killed it. It was, however, harder to snap out of the shock of what had just happened in order to figure out what to do about it.
Brenda closed her eyes and spent her first emergency-sober-moment to thank higher powers for making June have them put on seatbelts before hitting the road. It was a clear moment that seemed really ill-placed seeing how none had second thoughts to getting into the car when they were all on different levels of "plastered". At least not until pretty recently, that is.
"We're going to jail..!"
"I told you to shut up!"
"No, this can't be happening," was all Brenda could whisper.
"Jesus Christ... straight to hell."
"Shut the fuck up, June!"
"We got to get out of the car. Someone's hurt..." Brenda said in a hoarse voice.
"I know, I know... Just... Fuck!" Sean slammed his hands into the steering wheel at the curse.
"We got to help... or call for help."
"Okay... Okay! Just let me breathe for a moment, will ya?"
After another minute or so to calm down in silence, other than a mantra of muffled "Jesus Christ"s from June, they shakily got out of the car. Sean walked around the front to get over to Brenda's side, wanting her support rather than planning on giving her his. His eyes trailed over the damage to his beloved car and he was surprised there weren't any on the grill itself. There was a solid dent in the hood and the side view mirror had been knocked off as the thing rolled off, both which made his heart sink a little thinking of the cost of repairs. The star on the windshield marked the spot where it had hit the passenger's side where Brenda had been sitting. Considering she had gotten it right at her face he was proud of her ability to have kept her cool.
He wasn't sure whether or not to be relieved with the fact that there didn't seem to be any blood.
"I don't see anything..."
June hadn't dared to look anywhere but down to her own feet ever since she had gotten out of the car. The images her mind produced for her were horrible enough and the thought that reality could show her something similar was terrifying. Now she could only turn a bit dumbly to face Brenda who had whispered out the words, blinking a few times while her numbed brain tried to make sense of what she had heard.
"What..?"
"There's no one there," Brenda laughed with a mix of fright and relief. "Look."
The streetlights threw down spotlight round circles on the pavement down the street. Everything about the scene was scary, June thought. More so because Brenda was right: There was no one in there to indicate that they had hit someone or even something just a few minutes ago. No blood, no nothing besides little specs of paint from the hood and pieces of glass from the windshield spread out like twinkling stars over the black asphalt. There were only the residential night sounds to listen to, like the occasional dog barking sharply in the clear night air.
"It must've been an animal," Sean said with a frown, as if he didn't quite believe his own statement.
Brenda raised both her arms up to brush her hair out of her face, puffing her cheeks not sure what to feel about that conclusion.
"Must have been an animal," June echoed in a whisper before finding her voice again. "Shouldn't we see if we can find it? It's probably hurt."
"No!" Sean said sharply, before giving a tired sigh. "I mean-- I'd rather just get home before someone sees us."
"But we're still drunk..!"
"Hey, I feel a lot more sober now. Plus if you keep your trap shut for the rest of the ride maybe I'll be able to keep my eyes on--"
"Shut up!" Brenda hissed and looked at the both of them, talking as if she was addressing small children. "Sean will drive slowly. We'll take our time. And we'll get home without any accidents." And hopefully without running into the police considering the state of Sean's car, she thought.
"But what about the anim--"
"We can't run around at four in the morning hunting it down, June. I'll sit back with you, okay?"
After a bit of coaxing, June found herself in the backseat again, leaning her chin on Brenda's shoulder as Sean started the engine. She was too scared and tired to bother argue with them about getting a cab or finding whatever poor creature they had hit. By nature she was shy to conflicts and the two of them were so strong-willed they easily coaxed her to give in without further protest. She felt drunk now. Drunk and a little sick over the car's movements as Sean steered it down the street and the sharp light of the streetlamps passing over her tired eyes.
It was just an animal, she told herself, like Brenda and Sean said. A human wouldn't have taken off like that, now would it? If it was lucky it would be found in the morning and someone would be kind enough to take it to the vet and locate its owner. June didn't even want to think about what it would go through if it wasn't lucky.
"Did you guys see it..? It didn't look quite like an animal, did it?" June silently enquired.
The humming vibrations of the car lulled her nauseous mind at ease as they continued down the street, the turns being far gentler now than what they had been. She had come to the conclusion she didn't like it. New York, that is. It wasn't her kind of city. It was horrible enough at day with all the people, the noise and that big city smell she'd never be able to determine what was. At night it was even worse. June blinked lazily at the buildings and streets as they passed by outside the car window, the pace much slower and more to her liking. It was alive in a different kind of way at night; a New York at night embraced those who didn't sleep. Who drank and drove. Stole. Raped. Murdered. Was up to no good.
It would look the other way until dawn.
Later, once June tucked herself into the makeshift bed on the sofa at Brenda's place, she'd realize no one had answered her earlier question. That night her mind started to spin off nightmares from that seemingly innocent query to haunt her sleep in a couple of years to come. They would slowly start to fade away one morning when June would go out to check her mailbox in her small, nice smelling hometown to find an invitation to Brenda and Sean's wedding. Eventually there would be no more haunted nightmares about that thing they had killed.