Mistakes
Rating: K +
Disclaimer: Oh, come on. We all know who owns the turtles, and it's not me.
Summary: It starts with Donatello and Michelangelo making a simple mistake. Then Raphael makes a pretty bad mistake, and then Donatello makes a really bad mistake, and then both Donatello and Michelangelo make a mistake that'll change the brothers' lives forever. Will the family be able to overcome the obstacles which stand in their way? Will they be able to forgive each other? Or will the Hamato family be lost forever...
All because of their mistakes...
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Author's Note: Please keep in mind that this is my first story. I would really appreciate it if I did not receive any negative comments, thanks. In this chapter, one of the turtles is out getting pizza when he runs into trouble. Will he be able to get himself out of it? Find out for yourself. Here's Chapter 1: Introductions.
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Tip toe tip toe tip toe stop! ...look around, and...go!
Tip toe tip toe tip toe stop! ...look around again, and...Go! Again!
These thoughts kept repeating themselves as the small, fit figure crept through the darkness which swallowed the alley he was in. It was still mid afternoon, and the figure could not let himself be seen. There were many people walking the streets of New York City, and although the mysterious creature could possibly blend in, well, he just couldn't take that chance. It was just too risky. You see, the person who I am talking about is Michelangelo. He is not, how you say, normal. Far from it, actually. Especially if you consider a five foot mutant turtle in a trench coat carrying a pizza box to be unnormal.
He glanced around, aha, he thought to himself as he spotted the manhole cover. He whipped around once more, just to make sure that no one was following him, and then he slowly made his way to the "doorway" which would lead him on his path to his home. He approached it carefully and ever so slowly...
Clang
Apparently the young turtle had not noticed that he was in fact being followed. He whipped around and faced the minions who obeyed his worst nightmare. There were about twenty foot soldiers, 10 foot tech ninjas, and the four which were called "Shredder's Elite Guard." He began to slightly tremble. He had seen these men before. In fact, he had fought these men before. But, not this many. And definitely not by himself. He had help last time he came face to face with these goons. These warriors obeyed Michelangelo's worst enemy. A man called, "The Shredder." Although, his real name was Oruku Saki. He was an evil man, set on destroying Michelangelo and his family. Well, Michelangelo mused to himself as he quietly set the pizza box on the concrete floor, at least he's not here.
Michelangelo threw off the trench coat, and pulled his orange accented twin nunchakus from his belt. He twirled them playfully before making a crude comment that made the soldiers angry (to Michelangelo's pleasure, of course). After a moment of silence, the enemies charged at each other, and the battle began.
Michelangelo didn't stand a chance and he knew that. He did great fighting the foot soldiers, and he was doing ok when he was charged upon by the foot tech ninjas, but when the elite attacked, well, let's just say Michelangelo was thrown against the wall of the hardware store that stood beside the alleyway within a minute. One of the elite guard, one holding what was a Japanese version of an axe, strode to Michelangelo's side . Michelangelo had been beaten pretty badly and was way too weak to stand. The cold soldier laughed with an equally cold cackle as he raised the axe above Michelangelo's head to deliver the finishing blow.
Oh, man, Michelangelo thought. This is it! I'm going to die! And worse. The pizza's going to get cold. Poor pizza...what a cruel world this is...
Just when all hope seemed lost, a shout was heard from a rooftop above.
"MIKEY! NO!" Michelangelo heard three pairs of feet land quietly in the alleyway. He looked over to the other side of the dark alley and saw his three older brothers standing there, weapons in hand. Michelangelo smiled and sighed in relief. Thanks goodness. Maybe the pizza still has a chance. One of the three intruders, one wearing a mask similar to Michelangelo's except for the fact that it was blue and not orange, stepped forward and pointed one of his twin katanas at the elite guard who stood over Michelangelo. "Let. Him. Go." "Why should I," the guard retorted. Then another one of the brothers, this one wearing a crimson red mask, stepped forward and twirled his twin sais angrily. "Because if you don't get away from my little brother, I'll be the last thing you see. Me and your blood on my sais." The guard laughed and said, "Oh please. You two against us thirty four? You won't stand a chance."
The third figure, wearing a purple mask, stepped out and got into a fighting stance with his Bo staff. "For your information," the turtle began, "there's three of us." Michelangelo slowly regained his strength and stood nunchakus in hand. "Four." Once again, the guard just laughed. "Oh, don't make me laugh." Michelangelo grinned a goofy grin and put his hands on his hips. "Dude, we just did." The smile quickly faded from the enemy's face. "No matter," he said as he backed up and stood by his soldiers. "Soon, and very soon, our master will destroy you. And I only pray that I'll be there to watch." For a moment, the turtles just stood there. Then, the elite guard made some sort of signal with his hands, and all thirty-four foot ninjas attacked the four brothers. While Donatello (the one in the purple) and Raphael (the one in the red) fought, Leonardo (the one in the blue) noticed that Michelangelo was still weak from his previous battle. Seeing this, he walked up to Michelangelo from behind and threw him over one shoulder. Michelangelo was taken by surprise. "Whoa! Leo, what the shell?!" Leonardo carried him to a wall and set him down. "Michelangelo, you are too weak to fight. You're in no condition. You stay here while Raph, Donnie, and I finish these guys off." "But," Michelangelo protested, but Leonardo cut him off. "No buts! Just stay here!" Saying that, Leonardo unsheathed his katanas once more and ran to his brothers' aid.
As Michelangelo watched his brother, Leonardo, fight, he realized just how good a fighter his eldest brother was. He had never really noticed before because whenever they got into fights, Michelangelo was too busy with an opponent to really look at his brothers and see how talented they really were. None of them were as gifted in ninjitsu as Leonardo, though. He was graceful, precise, and agile. Not only that, but he was strong. Strong both emotionally, and physically. Michelangelo was not really close to Leonardo in any way. He just looked up to him as an older brother. He also did his best to listen to him because he was the leader of the team. Leonardo, in a way, was Michelangelo's hero. He was the perfect ninja, the perfect brother, and the perfect son. He was…perfect!
When Leonardo defeated his current opponents, Michelangelo turned his attention to Raphael. Raphael was a great fighter as well. Of course, he was nowhere near as good as Leonardo, but he was still strong and passionate. But not just when it came to fighting. Raphael was strong emotionally as well. He kept everything bottled up inside, and then when he reached his boiling point; he would explode at whichever brother ticked him off first. Most of the time, that brother would be Leonardo. But hey, I mean, one's the leader, and one's the hot head. What can you do? But you know, Raphael doesn't go looking for fights with his brother. He loved his brothers more than anything, and he would do anything for them. Even if it meant showing his soft side to them.
Raphael gutted his opponent, and Michelangelo looked to Donatello. Ah. Good old' Donnie. Donatello was definitely not the best fighter in the group, but he was the smartest of the four. When it came to injuries, Don could probably fix one in a heartbeat. And while his three brothers fought on pure instinct and muscle, Donatello fought using Mathematics and Geometry. But, Don wasn't all brain and no brawn, of course. In fact, if he would ever let himself be, he would probably be the strongest out of the four. Michelangelo let a small smile come to him as he watched his youngest older brother fight. Donatello and Michelangelo have been best friends for as long as any of them could remember. They did everything, went everywhere, and fought their enemies, together. They had a special bond that could not be broken, and all four of the brothers knew that.
Michelangelo was so lost in his own thoughts, that he didn't even notice that the fight had ended and his brothers had won. The brothers put away their weapons and walked over to Michelangelo. Donatello grabbed his left arm, and Raphael grabbed his right arm. After they hauled him to his feet, they put one arm around his shoulders so that they would be able to help him walk. Leonardo stood in front of his three younger brothers, but kept his gaze on Michelangelo. "You ok, Mike?" Michelangelo met his brother's gaze and answered, "Yeah. I'm ok." "Good. When I saw you from the rooftop, I was scared that I was too late." "Nah. You were right on time. You guys really saved my sorry shell. Thanks." Raphael smiled at his baby brother. "Hey, no problem, bro! Anytime!" Donatello nudged Michelangelo playfully and smiled. "Yeah. Just don't do it again." "Hey! It wasn't my fault! The foot totally ambushed me! ...Or would it be the, the feet?" All of his brothers just shook their heads. Then Leonardo uncovered the manhole. "Come on. Let's get home." "Wait!" Everyone looked at Michelangelo startled when he suddenly shouted. "What?" "What is it, Mike?"
Michelangelo turned and looked to the place where he had left the pizza box in the alley. "The pizza! OW!" Michelangelo got a good smack on the head from his red clad brother. "C'mon, shell for brains. Let's go home." And with that, the brothers made their way down the manhole and into the sewers. Everything's going to be ok, now, Michelangelo thought to himself. My brothers are there for me, and I know that they'll catch me when I fall. I'll be ok.
Hm…perhaps our orange clad hero presumes too much…
To be continued…
