A/N: I've been working on this for a while and it's finally finished! It's even still oneshot length-ed! :D Enjoy my little Casey-centric oneshot songfic :D

Disclaimer: I don't own TMNT, which includes Casey and all those he mentions in this fic, and I don't own the song "Hotel California" that this fic is based on.

The road had been long. It was the kind that winds around in smooth, barren tracks to nowhere. Casey Jones couldn't stand the melancholy any longer. He opened the window to let in the cool night wind. It blew the dark strands of his hair in a desperate frenzy around his head. He stared down the dark desert highway as he coughed his hair out of his face.

HONK! Casey jerked in his seat as an old chevy raced around him. "Fuck!" The air caught the warm smell of marijuana as he spotted the young drivers. He flipped them off as they passed him. Maybe they will get pulled over and arrested further down the bend. He hated smartass kids that thought they owned the road. "Hope yer mothers be happy when yer fuckin wrecked!" He yelled after them, though he could barely see the car now. He leaned back in his seat and turned weary eyes back on the road ahead.

He didn't know how much time was passing. His dashboard clock got smashed in months back. He couldn't remember what had him in a rage back then. They all blurred together. His eyes were blurring too. He thought he saw shimmering lights up ahead. His head felt so heavy. He could barely see the road anymore. "Why's it so dark?! Damn city should put lights up." He banged his fist on the dashboard. He needed to find a place to stop for the night.

Up ahead, he could see a small hotel. "Guess I'm lucky afterall," He said as it drew near. He slowly pulled into the parking lot. The cars here all looked like those trashy low-end types that people fixed up and just kept riding. He was surprised to even see a classic roadster in decent condition. He parked and got out of the car to take in the place better.

The hotel itself looked more high-end. He hoped the price was cheap. He didn't have that much cash on him. Just a hundred left over after gas prices. The world must be going to shit ta make gas so much money. Either that or they're just cooperate scum-asses sittin' in their damn penthouses fer all tha cash comin' in. He grumbled as he headed to the front door. Before he reached it, the door opened and an angel stepped out. Damn, she's hot.

"Looking for a room, handsome?" The blonde goddess asked. "Come in and have a seat. You look dead on your feet."

Her voice tittered around in his head and he fidgeted. He could hear church bells in the distance. The sound helped jar him as he thought of April back home. "Ah, yeah. I don't got too much cash on me though. I still got a bit of a drive and gas prices are a bitch."

"Don't worry about it, sweet. It's on the house." She winked at him as she sauntered close. Her shimmering gown swayed about her legs and Casey found himself staring. Am I in heaven or is this some messed up hell? He forgot his voice.

She lit up a candle and took his hand. Her hand was soft and small in his large calloused ones. She gently tugged him along inside. The door closed behind them so only the candle offered light. As she led him through the halls, Casey swore he heard a whispered song from aged speakers.

The next morning, Casey Jones woke to music whispering in the air. He rolled over in his bed without opening his eyes, hoping to get back to sleep. He pulled a too soft blanket over his head, hoping to assist in drowning away the incessant noise. He heard the distinct sound of curtains opening and he was suddenly blinded behind his eyelids. The blanket was not helping.

"Your morning wake-up call, Mr. Jones." A sweet voice said.

Casey's eyes blinked open to an enchanting woman. Her vivid dark curls fell about her shoulders as she bent down to peer at him. His blanket was easily pulled out of his grasp. "You know my name? Who are you?"

"I'm Tiffany. It's a pleasure to meet you, officially. Welcome to the Hotel California. My father owns the place so I'm here to show you around."

Casey sat up and glanced around the room. He barely remembered the night before. He certainly didn't get a good look at his room. It felt like he woke up to the sixties. "What time is it?" He searched for a clock, but the room didn't appear to have one.

"Nine A.M. Would you like to head to breakfast first? It started at eight, but you were so exhausted last night, I didn't want to bother you."

Casey grumbled to himself. He was bothered too early anyway. Mornings never got along with him. Especially the ones where he had a few too many drinks the day before. Still, he looked for his luggage bags. He'd get up for Tiffany. He had to get on the road again soon, anyway. But… "Where are my bags?"

"In your closet. The hotel has complimentary unpacking. People usually stay after their first day here, so this makes it easier on our guests."

Casey stumbled to the indicated closet, still half asleep. "I ain't stayin'. I gotta be getting' back on tha road soon."

"They all say that."

"Well, I ain't one a' those types. I gotta lady back at home missin' me." He opened the closet and frowned at the neatly hung clothing. He never hung his own clothes. He didn't see a point in it. They were just going to get thrown back on the floor anyway.

"I'll let you get dressed. I'll be right outside."

Casey waited until he heard the click of the door closing before changing. Something was off, but he just couldn't figure out what it was. He shrugged off the ill feeling as he threw on the first thing he laid his hands on. I'll get sum't'in' ta eat, then I'm gone. That was the plan and he was sticking to it. His mouth set in a determined line, he turned towards the door of his room. His steps on the plush carpet were firm as he made his way across the room. He paused at the oaken door, his hand on the brass knob. But damn, that Tiffany is smokin' hot. His eyes widened, briefly. Not that it matters. …April's prob'bly worried 'bout me. I should call 'er…

He opened the door and stepped out into the candlelit hall beyond. Flickering oil lamps lined the walls and an oriental rug ran from end to end. The air lingered with an ancient scent of cigars and cedar. His nose prickled at the pungent aroma as the door clicked shut behind him. He cursed as he scanned the hall. He couldn't remember the way to the exit.

"Ready for breakfast?"

He jumped, whirling to face the owner of the voice. He stared at Tiffany in bewilderment. "Where'dja come from?" He tried to recall if he'd seen her as he left his room. Probably just missed her wit' all that rank smell. Yeah… He gave her an uneasy smile. "Yeah, yeah, I'm ready." He frowned. "But I'm goin' right after."

Tiffany smiled. "Of course," she said, her honeyed words dancing in his mind as she turned her back to him. The movement sent her sweet aroma spiraling around him. He couldn't help but watch her hips sway as she walked the corridor. "You coming?" she tipped her head towards him, that same soft smile on her lips.

"Uh, yeah." Casey cleared his throat before following her. He needed to keep his thoughts on target. He had a place to go. He had a woman that would not appreciate him ogling the beauty before him. Why he couldn't stop was a complete mystery to him. Why does it matter? I'm jus' lookin'. He nodded, firmly, along with his thought. A careless grin crossed his face. It doesn't matter.

Casey Jones stared ahead, his plate forgotten before him. The formal dining room was bursting with people of every ethnicity and social standing, most dressed in their Sunday best. They swayed in time to the music echoing through the room with a hollow note that teased his senses. Lights played against a mirrored glass ceiling, leaving a sparkling of color dancing off brass surfaces that matched the hypnotic pace of the dancers. Glass doors separated the room from the courtyard where more dancers moved in time to a need Casey couldn't understand. Moonlight revealed only so much.

Tiffany was among the dining room dancers. She moved from one man to the next, seamlessly, as if she was gust of wind that could not be slowed. Casey couldn't keep his eyes off her. The way she looked at each of her partners sent a wave of jealousy from his head to his gut. Every man she gave herself to burned with a predator intensity. A look she did not return. Her eyes always remained soft and engaging, yet still managing to appear as if she were merely a dream. Time stilled as he watched her sway to the ever-present melody.

Her fingers played through his unkempt hair. "You haven't even touched your dinner." Her voice tickled his ear.

He blinked and turned to her. "Huh?" He felt warmth from her touch that he had missed for too long. Her gaze shifted to the porcelain plate before him, full of a meal he forgot was there. He heard her giggle as he played his fingers against the silver fork beside it. "Oh. …Dinner? What about breakfast?"

She giggled with more fervor. "You had that hours ago, silly. Don't you remember?"

"What time is it?" His voice grew taut as his expression hardened.

"Late evening."

Her sing-song voice snapped him into focus. His hand curled into a fist that he slammed onto the table. His plate jumped, spilling a portion of its contents over onto the white lacey cotton tablecloth. "I was gonna leave. Ya knew that. Why am I still here? I gotta get back on tha road!" He moved to stand, but her gentle hand on his shoulder gave him pause. "Get yer fuckin' hand offa me." He fisted the edge of the table with his eyes tightly closed. If she wasn't a lady, his fist would already be making his point for him.

"Relax, Casey. There's no rush." Her voice could calm a raging bull. As it was, Casey's muscles unwittingly relaxed against her small form. "It's too late now. You can leave tomorrow." Her soft lips brushed against his cheek.

His breath hitched. It was as if a spell had fallen over him. "Tomorrow…"

"Waiter, give this man a cold beer," She called beside him.

Casey vaguely saw an older fellow enter his line of vision. The man carried a solemn weight to his gait, but he smiled. "He's sure got some spark to him. We haven't had that spirit here since 1969."

"Oh, he's really not that bad. He plans to leave us tomorrow."

The forlorn man perked up with a startling laugh at that. "Good man, that one is. He'll be the first." The man left with a jovial smile, laughter booming as he went.

The first? Casey's heart hammered against his chest as his breath quickened. He turned lost eyes onto the beauty that was too close to him. He wanted to push her away, but her own eyes stilled him.

She smiled, her face brightening in that dreamy way. "This is the best beer in the house." She pushed the glass into his hand. "Maybe it'll help you sleep."

His eyes narrowed. "I can't stay."

"I know." She gave him a sad smile. "I'll help you back to your room when you're done."

She left his side, leaving behind that sweet scent. His hand reached for her automatically, hungry for more of her soft touch, before he could collect himself. He pulled his hand back to his side as a pit of longing grew in his chest. What's wrong with me? All the while, the music continued in the background like voices calling out through the night…

Casey barely remembered sleeping. He certainly didn't remember waking up. All he knew was daylight was now streaming in through those glass doors. He stared up at the glass ceiling, mesmerized by the reflections of the guests each enjoying their pink champagne from glass bottles in ice. His own glass was filled with beer once again. He watched the reflection of the amber liquid as he swirled the glass. One of the guests was a redhead. Her vividly colored hair flowed gently over pale shoulders. She reminded him of his woman. April…

He narrowed his eyes as he searched for her in the real crowd. April…? He stumbled to his feet, barely noticing as his glass toppled onto its side before rolling off the table with a crash. The sound snapped something in his mind. He had to get out. He had to get home! He dashed towards the door, barely caring who he knocked over on the way.

There was Tiffany. The beauty stepped in front of him before he could get any further. She was frowning at him.

"Move! I can't stay here any longer!" Casey glared her down, but she didn't falter.

"I'm sorry." She turned towards the door. "You're the first. After so many years." She placed her hand briefly over her mouth with a look of surprise as she glanced back at him. "Why don't you stay? It's nice here."

"I hafta see April."

"I see." She returned her gaze to the door. "You have her. That must be nice. You see, we are all just prisoners here, of our own device. Not one of us had what you do. A love. How unlucky."

Casey stepped back when her eyes turned back on him. No longer did she appear dreamy. Her face twisted as it aged. Her hair grew ragged and thin. Her teeth yellowed as her skin grew pale and gaunt. "What tha hell?!"

As soon as it began, it ended. Her face returned once again to its captivating appearance. She smiled as if nothing had happened. "Is something wrong, Casey?" She tipped her head to the side, curious.

"You can't change your fate."

Casey whirled to face the new voice only to back up in horror once again. Every guest now held that ghastly appearance. They all stared at him with gaunt eyes.

"The beast can't be killed."

Casey's eyes darted from one aged man and woman to the next, his mind screaming at him to run. Still, his feet remained bolted to the ground.

"You'll join us forever!"

"Tiffany!" Casey turned to face the woman he grew to know. Again, he found the people as they should be.

"Yes?" Her warm smile no longer reached him.

"What is this? What tha hell is this place?" Casey slowly backed away from her.

"This is the Hotel California." She automatically replied.

He couldn't forget the horrifying images around him. Everywhere he looked, they greeted him before disappearing. His eyes were finally opening to the truth of this place. With fear choking up his movements, he dashed around Tiffany towards those glass doors once again. He had to get home. He had to leave this nightmare. He had to get back to his April.

As Casey neared the door, a night guard smiled at him. "Relax, Casey Jones. We are programmed to receive." He said as he watched Casey unsuccessfully pull against the doors. "You can check-in anytime you like, but you can never leave."

"No!" Casey frantically yelled. "Yer wrong! I'm getting' out of here!" He leaned his weight away from the doors, but they still wouldn't budge. "Open up, damn you! Fuck!"

"You can't ever leave."

"It's no use."

"Stay with us. Forever."

"Shut up!" Casey punched the stubborn door, only to speckle the glass with his blood. Even as pain flared in his knuckles, he couldn't give up. "I'll get out. I will. I'm comin' home, April…"

All the while, the music hummed. A melody so sweet, it could entrance all who enter. As it played on, a muffled beeping barely rose above it. Welcome to the Hotel California, the last place you'll ever see.

A/N: I hope you enjoyed. Now onto feeding that review box, okay? It's hungry for critiques :D