Wanted to write a one-shot based on IDW's TMNT

Pairing: Mikey/Woody

Hope you enjoy! XD

"Pizza Sauce"

Woody had only been in the turtle's lair once before. It was after a late night of hanging out with Mikey, Woody had been walking the enthusiastic turtle home when he was given an invitation into their home. The answer was an obvious 'yes'. Having always been curious about the dwellings of his turtle friends, it was nice to finally be able to see where they live in case he ever needed to find them. Woody's first visit had been one of kind glances and warm welcomes, which had been a few months back. Now the atmosphere was dark and the laughter and good natured jokes were replaced with a heavy silence. Woody sat in the dug-out living room, light from the static television bouncing off of his features. He was asked to wait there. Although he had never been too good at waiting and kept making furtive glances towards the dense metal lab doors. On one particular glance he managed to catch the gaze of a certain red-banded turtle. Raph had been pounding away mercilessly at the training dummy, needing to vent out his frustrations on something, anything. It was no secret that he was upset by what transpired, and probably blamed himself. It seemed that was a mutual feeling, however false it may be. Soft footfalls caught his attention as Raph made his way over to where Woody was sitting. The turtle sank down next to him on the bench and released an exhausted breath. It'd been a long night, mentally and physically exhausting, Woody was surprised to see that Raph hadn't passed out from overexertion. Though Woody knew that no one would be sleeping anytime soon. Dark circles were forming underneath his green eyes, noticed only because his mask now hung around his neck, and his head hung back against the elevated cement floor. Woody averted his eyes, not wanting to be caught staring, but Raph seemed to notice anyways although he didn't say anything about it. Instead he pulled himself out of his slouch and maneuvered himself so he was facing the young pizza maker. Now forced to meet the turtle's eyes Woody found himself caught by the intense stare.

"How you holding up?" Raph stated, giving Woody a quick glance up and down. It didn't take long to figure out the real answer, and Woody was glad that it was so obvious because the words to the question were caught in his throat. He turned his head, again avoiding the gaze, not really want to hear this conversation but he knew it would happen eventually.

"Woody. You know this isn't your fault right?" Woody could only slump further down, the words seemingly lost to him. He raked his hands through his curly hair, shaking as they pulled against the blond locks. It was a dumb mistake, one that could be have been avoided, one that could have prevented all of this from happening. Gah! He was so stupid! His mind kept racing with a million "if only's" but none of them were able to give any solace, they only struck at his heart and enforced the consequences of his actions. He pulled tighter on his hair, hoping that the physical pain would alleviate the emotional stress he was feeling.

"Hey, stop that!" A rough voice called out, and a calloused three-fingered hand was slowly moving his own hands away from his head. "That's not gonna help anything," the voice turned gentle as his hands were released, "B'sides, Mikey would kill me if I let you go bald. Kid's always goin' off 'bout how cute and soft ya hair is." Woody let out a choked laugh at Raph's quick attempt to cheer him up. It had worked a little, and he fought against the blush that had crept onto his cheeks. A heavy sigh escaped his mouth as he stared at his, still shaking, hands that had been set into his lap. Try as he might he was unable to stop the tremors that made his fingers quiver, they hadn't stopped trembling and Woody wondered if they would ever be still again. Red. That was the only thing he saw when he looked at his palms. Thick and sticky red liquid that slipped away too quickly between his fingers. In a twisted sense of humor he thought it almost looked like the pizza sauce that he would use in the restaurant. Except tomato sauce didn't smell like rusted metal, and it came from a tin can sitting on the shelf, not from a lifeless form laying on the checkered tile. It didn't pool on the floor and streak across the shattered glass of the display case. It didn't stain his hands and make him start to tear up because there was just too much of it… It was supposed to make people happy. It was supposed to bring families together over the combination of melted cheese and genuine conversations. It was supposed to bring a big, goofy grin to a certain orange-banded turtle and the most beautiful laughter that Woody had ever heard. A laugh that Woody was scared he would never be able to hear again.

A tear rolled down his face before he knew he had been crying, he quickly swiped the fallen tears away with the sleeve of his sweatshirt. Out of the corner of his eye he caught the sympathetic gaze of Raph, who still seemed intent on setting him straight on his deprecating thoughts.

"I should've made sure the backdoor latched! I knew the lock had been sticking, but I didn't think…it didn't know…" Woody stammered over his words, his mind winning the race against his mouth as he fumbled over his sentences, "I-I'm so sorry…" Again tears filled his eyes as he sought forgiveness from the sai wielder.

"Woody, man. This isn't your fault. It was the Purple Dragons, they're the ones to blame for this. If anything you saved him." Raph stated as he put a firm hand on Woody's shoulder and gave him a reassuring squeeze.

"All I did was tape a dishtowel to his chest. If I had just double checked the—"

"That's enough Woody." Raph interrupted curtly, "I have a feeling those Purple Dragons would have found a way into the store, even if you had made sure the backdoor was locked correctly. They were just thugs that wanted a quick payday." Woody stared at him as Raph glanced towards the lab doors, then continued, "And judging from the face-shaped dent in that pizza pan, you deserve more credit than you're taking." A sly smirk wormed its way onto the tough turtle's face.

It had taken a moment for Woody to recall what Raphael was referring to, the haze of adrenaline was affecting the clarity of his memory. It had all happened too quickly, it felt like a cliché to say, but still it was the truth. Woody was closing the restaurant that evening so he asked Mikey to come hang out and eat the extra pizzas that didn't get sold. He remembered the sudden surprise when the four men barged in through the back door of Rupert's Pizzeria, the sound of swiping knives and the whir of spinning nunchucks, flour and glass flying through the air, grunts of pain and bodies hitting the floor. Mikey had taken down the first three criminals and was moving onto the fourth when the sound of a gunshot shattered through the night air. Woody had taken cover under counter. He had contemplated calling the police, but decided against it, knowing that would put the mutant turtle in a pickle. He had heard the gunshot and saw the man run to the back exit. Not wanting the man to escape he took the closest item to himself, a pizza pan, and struck the Purple Dragon hard across the face, rendering him unconscious. Thank God the restaurant spent the extra money on those cast iron deep dish pizza pans, otherwise Woody doubted he would have been able to stop the man. It was the silence that gave way to worry. There were no cries of victory coming from the cheery terrapin, just the sound of silence and the sight of 'pizza sauce'.

"It still wasn't enough…Mikey…He was still hurt…He was still—" Woody said, breaking away from his own recollection of the events, "If he hadn't have been there then—"

"Then it might have been you bleeding out on the floor." Raph said, making sure that Woody was looking straight at him, because Raphael needed Woody to understand this. "Mikey's gonna be fine, he's in good hands too. Donnie, Splinter and Leo are doing everything they can to help him. He doesn't blame you, and he doesn't regret being there to protect you either." Woody wanted to object to what he was told, but deep down he knew that Raphael was right.

"It still isn't fair. He doesn't deserve this." Woody said sounding like a petulant child, burying his head in his hands. That was probably what this all boiled down to anyways, how unfair it was. How someone as sweet and kind as Mikey always seemed to be hurting. Always seemed to be in pain. He often came to Woody and told him of all the dangers their family put themselves in by protecting others and themselves. Even though Mikey had seen enough to make anyone break, he still wore that hundred-watt smile, so appreciative of the little things that life could provide. He lived and enjoyed life no matter what came his way.

"Fair? Yeah, I suppose it ain't." Raph looked like he was about to elaborate when the doors to the lab opened, revealing an exhausted Leo and Master Splinter. Leo gave a tired smile before being pulled away to the dojo by Splinter. Both had been using the healing hands mantra and needed to recuperate mentally. Woody stood up and looked down at Raph, asking for silent permission. Having been given a curt nod, Woody jumped over the built in bench and shot up the short staircase that lead to Donnie's lab.

"Mikey stop messing around with the drip!" Donnie's voice echoed around the large room as he gently batted Mikey's hand away from the saline drip that was attached into his arm. The youngest brother was dizzily twirling the tube in his hand, before it was once again led away from the equipment by Donnie. The purple clad turtle looked about ten years older than he should have. Deep violet bags were hanging under fatigued wine-colored eyes, and his shoulders were slumped forward as he shakily finished tying off the medication tubing. Woody walked slowly into the room, grinning slightly at the interactions between the two turtles. Mikey's plastron was taped up in white sterile gauze, harsh metal staples could be seen through the material, holding together the surgical incisions. His green skin was coated in a layer of sweat and his eyes were unfocused because of the drugs in his system. He looked so small laying under the white covers, barely moving; his larger than life personality taking the backseat whilst his body was trying to heal. As Woody approached he tried hard to avoid looking at the medical tray that lay a few feet away from where the injured turtle lay. Bloody surgical tools were scattered on the metallic surface, along with the bullet that had caused this whole incident. Woody approached the genius yet he still kept his eyes on Mikey.

"Hey Donnie, how-" Woody was cut off when Donnie jumped a good five feet into the air before swiftly turning around to see who was behind them.

"Ah! Woody…hehe…sorry. I was a little…distracted." Donnie trailed off looking down at his little brother, visible relief on his face. "The surgery went well. The bullet missed any vital organs, so no damage there. However we did have problems getting the bullet out and need to make an incision on his upper plastron. With time though, he should be back to his hyperactive self, competing with Raph to see who has the coolest scar." Donnie stated before looking to Woody.

"Thank you, Donnie—" Woody was once again caught off by Donnie as he held up his hand.

"No thanks needed, he's my little brother. I would do anything to make sure he's safe." Donnie stated a prideful sense of determination in his voice, "Though I do owe you a nod of gratitude. If you hadn't staunched the bleeding with that towel he would have been in a lot worse shape going into surgery." Woody grimaced at the memory of him putting pressure on the bleeding wound. Calling out to Mikey, and receiving nothing but silence in return. Donnie gave Mikey a final once over before yawning and heading towards the door, knowing Woody will take the first watch.

Woody moved to sit next to Mikey, watching his doped out eyes follow him until he sat down in the chair next to the infirmary bed. A three-fingered hand reached out to grasp his own, though it missed its mark horribly. Chuckling softly, Woody guided Mikey's hand into his own, gently rubbing circles into the stiff joints.

"Woody!" Mikey slurred, the anesthesia making his words cling to each other, "You're all good? All safe and sound? No scratches, scrapes…or scuffles? Hehee" Mikey tapered off into a soft giggle, patting his hand up and down Woody's arm, checking for any injuries. Woody placed his cheek against the terrapin's knuckles, "Yeah Mikey, I'm okay." Mikey smiled brightly and cupped the pizza maker's face in his hand, lazily rubbing his thumb on his cheek bone. Their eyes met for a moment and Woody saw a strange sadness behind the normally lively blue eyes.

"Thas good, cause I lurvs youuu…" Mikey quietly whispered as his eyes started to drift to off to sleep, "Gonna havs to resschhedule our pizzzza date." He continued to garble, his eyelids kept growing heavier with each word. Woody stood up and gently placed a kiss on the injured turtle's forehead.

"Count on it Mikester, just next time no pizza sauce."