A/N: So after watching Jupiter Ascending, I couldn't help but start to wonder what would happen if I mixed it up with the turtles instead. I have no idea why, and no real way to justify myself concerning this series, but oh well. So, to be clear, this is just a little something that popped up in time to distract me from working on Blindsided to a Dark Desire. Of course I'm still working on that fic, but I decided that I'll work on this as a little fun side project as well. Hope you enjoy.
Disclaimer: I don't own the turtles.
Warnings: This will contain foul language, smut, and T-Cest. If you do not agree with any of these themes, I'd advise you to leave now. Otherwise, I don't really care. I warned you, so it's not my fault that you decided to burn your retinas with such delicious writing. ;)
Lies are often times a necessity for me. They hold a certain source of meaning - of belief and perhaps hope. Sounds kinda sappy, but honestly, lies are sometimes the only reason that I manage to get myself out of bed. Because the truth of the matter is; I don't belong here. Being a walking, talking giant turtle doesn't even really have anything to do with it. It's merely the restless feeling of knowing that there is more out there for me. I just don't know what it is yet. So I lie to myself day after day, and pretend that I have some sort of chalked up idea of where I'm supposed to go; what I am supposed to do.
I lie and tell myself that one day I'll come across something so profound that I'll actually end up happy.
I lie to myself and say that one day I'll get that forever someone.
I even lie to myself and pretend that this is all just one whacked up dream.
They're all just empty lies of course, but they tend to do the trick - most of the time.
"Raph, Raph, Raph, Raaaaaph!" I jolted upward in alarm and managed to smack my head against the front bumper of the car I was working under. Now, if only the truth concerning Casey were a lie, then my life would be so much easier.
"Shit, that fuckin' hurt. What the hell Case!?" I growled out angrily as I tried to rub the throbbing ache away from my forehead. Dammit, now I'ma have to smooth out those dents and give it some fresh paint. Rolling out from under the transmission, I sat up slowly and threw a glare the bonehead's way. Normally he'd cower and run for his life once he knew that I was angry, but in his haste to talk he managed to trip over the rolling tool rack he had left on the floor almost two hours ago; so much for his little thirty minute break.
He yelped out in surprise and caught himself on the low bench - inches away from landing face first in a bucket of some oil. Lucky bastard.
I smirked as he finally took full note of my expression. He cringed slightly in apprehension and retreated a coupl'a steps back as he rethought his approach. Casey hesitated a moment in thought as I continued to glower at him; wiping the grease of my fingers along the top of my jeans as I gave him a chance to be smart for once. He rubbed the back of his neck before clearing his throat and opening his mouth. Nope, he was still the dumb nimrod I'd grown up with. I shook my head slightly in mock disappointment. Then just as quickly he snapped his yapper shut and swiped at his upper lip with his tongue. Damn those nervous twitches. Was he really gonna keep me waitin' all day?
"Spit it out Case, I ain't got all day," I grouched with a hasty wave toward all the vehicles lined up in the garage. The car I was working on moments before was one of five that we were supposed to be finished before the end of the day. In fact, if Case could stop fooling around and get on with it I could put him to work, and be done early enough to get to a head start on the Porsche waiting in the other garage. The faster it was done, the better, cause the owner of that particular sleek beast was a big hitter; happy customer meant more dough and more dough meant more freedom. Plus, if I got my work done like I was hoping, then that meant I'd be free to go to Angel's party this weekend. Word on the street was that it was goin' to be wild one; there was even talk of a back street fight happening, and the chance to bust some heads sounded like heaven right now.
"Dude, we've hit the jackpot. Like, a literal gold mine," Case exclaimed with gusto, forgetting all about my anger in the moment of his excitement. I arched a nonexistent brow at him and shook my head in exasperation. Here we go again.
"That's what you said last time genius. 'Member how that went? Thanks, but no thanks. I'd rather avoid havin' to need April run on over to the pharmacy," I threw a semi-clean rag at him and sat back on my red mechanic creeper; trying to settle the bulk of my shell into the custom made groove comfortably.
"Hey! How was I supposed to know you have delicate reptilian skin? Besides, we made one-hundred and fifty bucks from that. Totally worth it."
"Well, next time we'll use your face and see if you still think so. Now get back to work Bonehead. That one ov'r there needs an oil change," I directed with a wave of my wrench. Casey scowled at me and crossed his arms over his chest. I ignored him and rolled back into my previous position.
"Raph, I'm serious," Casey huffed with a small whine befitting a small child.
"So am I," I popped my head out from under the car once again and pointed to the SUV dutifully waiting in the corner.
"Right now, that thing ov'r there is our goldmine. So start earnin' your keep," I left him with that and began to search for where I'd left off before I'd been interrupted.
A hand wrapped around my ankle and yanked me out from under the hood before I could even begin working again. One moment I was looking under the hood of a vehicle, the next I was back to staring at his fugly face.
"What the hell is your problem Casey!" I yelled as he let go of me.
"You're not listening to me Raph. The pay's great. We could even start hiring someone else to take on more cars. That'd be nice, wouldn't it?"
I scowled at him but I couldn't deny that an extra hand around here sounded nice; Especially when the two of us were forced to shoulder a minimum of thirteen vehicles each week.
"Yeah, well, if it's so easy then why you askin' for my help?" I glared at him in suspicion.
"Ahhh, damn. Good question there bro," he scratched the back of his head and scuffed the toe of his boot along the cement floor, "turns out, that there's a brood out there who'd pay real good money to get some juice from a guy. Weird, I know but - Believe me, I'd do it if I could - but I kinda don't fit the 'standards'. The client's, ummm, wantin' someone... with more," he flexed his muscles in a sad attempt of visual explanation," well, ya know... big, bad, maybe being a little bit turtle has somethin' to do with it? Aaaand, of course, that's ya."
Confusion wrapped around my head for a single moment before understanding hit me like a ton of bricks.
"Hell no Casey! You ain't gonna use my balls to make it rain money," I snarled with a balled fist.
"Awww, come'on man. Think of the five grand. It's for a good cause," Casey actually fuckin' got on his knees and slapped his hands together in a begging motion, "you'd finally be able to get those overgrown forks you've been wantin'."
"They're called Sais dimwit, and -" I shook my head and glared at the cars lined up behind me. Shoulda never told Casey about that. Dammit, I did want them; more bad than I'd ever wanted anything in my life. It was said that my mom adored Japan; talked about moving there on the days my dad was at his worst. She'd even taken up ninjutsu during her free time, and her weapon of choice? The Sai. I'd gotten so curious that I'd struck up a deal with a neighbouring Dojo; free mechanical repairs for free lessons. After I held those wooden Sai in my hands for the first time it just kinda felt right. Soon the whole thing kinda stuck with me, and I'd gotten real good, real fast. Now it was high time to work with the real deal which, of course, required that it come out of my own pocket.
O'course not everyone agreed with my hobby. It drove my folks crazy after they found out what I was doing and started to don the mask. They called it the Jone's curse for hot-heads. I didn't care, and I kinda thought it was real cool that my mom was a little spitfire herself; anyhow, that's where she got the courage to finally leave the son'a bitch that tricked her into marrying him. I think she would'a been proud to see me takin' an interest in somethin' that she found important; delving into roots that I had no real inkling of in the first place.
"So you're tellin' me, that someone out there is lookin' for the sperm of a mutated turtle?" I demanded waving my tool around for emphasis. I knew that mutants were becoming more accepted by society with each new year, but this still sounded a little too far fetched to be true. Who'd intentionally want their child to be a mutant?
Casey gave me a crooked grin and crossed his arms over his chest, "Why do you think the pays so good? Apparently turtles are rare."
"Fuckin' shit Case," I threw down my own rag and took a stand, "Where do I sign up?"