::Author's Note:: Okay, so it's been awhile. We know and we apologize for that. However, with the new show and new energy we decided to tackle this brave new world! Yes, there was a lot of 'new' in that sentence! We're excited about all the new.

Now it came to our attention that there's a lot of differences, but a lot of similarities too, in the new show. Some of you may not like the 2012 series, some of you may tolerate it, and some of you may LOVE it. Either way, a lot of this story is going to be focused on character development for our favorite turtley heroes from that particular genre.

Leo. Primarily Leo; and how he goes from being almost bossy-hall-monitor to responsible leader. Though it's entertaining and endearing to see him as a 15 year old boy, it's also a wonderment as to how he grew into his role. This will be an exploration of that idea, that theory.

But, fear not, there will be plenty of Hamato-family dynamic to go around! Thank you for giving this story a look-see and rest assured that future chapters will be more turtle focused. This, our friends, just sets the stage for what is to come. We promise lots of character development, action, and story. We are anticipating a 4-5 chapter long piece; shorter than our normal work.

Again, thank you very much. We'd love to hear what you think.

-Stoic and Harley


Dream of Better Days
Preface:
Dead End World

"I'm not going in there. Are you crazy?"

A lazy snort came from a boy, no older than sixteen, who leaned against the edge of crate boxes behind him, stacked up in crooked rows along the side of a brick building. He was taller and thicker than the others, with two hearty round gauges in his ears, and a Mohawk on his head that alluded to his despising 'The Man' and would do whatever he wanted despite what society said he should do attitude. He was the leader of their group and it was clear by the way the others stood around him, almost in reverence, waiting for him to refute, to the other boy's opposition.

"I knew you were some sort of pussy - just do it. " He challenged in a low, almost bored, drawl.

"It's about to fall down, there is no way I'm going in there. And I'm not a pussy! It's just…we could get caught…"

Their leader wrinkled his nose and shrugged his shoulders. "Suit yourself. 'Sides that's half the fun, ain't it?" He smirked and gestured for the others to follow him. The boy pushed the smaller one out of his way, knocking him back so he stumbled into the grimy alleyway. The group teenagers disappeared through the door of the tall building. On the ground sat the boy, the singular voice of opposition. He hissed as he hit the ground, his hand scraped across the concrete and little pinpricks of blood forming across his palm from the shredded skin.

The building had well over a dozen floors, perhaps two dozen, and it stood on what seemed to be a weakened foundation. Windows were broken and boarded up; several of the fire escapes were rusted through the bottom so badly that large, gaping holes were left. The boy looked upwards at the red-rusted iron and the looming building above; he was almost certain it swayed for how rickety its walls were. Perhaps it had been beautiful in its day, but now it blended into this corner of the city. Decrepit, forgotten, and falling apart.

He stood up, looking around at the stacked boxes and trash, piled up high beside a foul smelling dumpster. It was quiet – as quiet as the city really got with sirens in the distance, steam whistling from the vents along the sidewalk and the sound of the wind whirling through the dark night, snaking through the buildings. It was eerie though and enough to make him curse under his breath at the kids who left him behind.

Debating a moment longer, he finally opened the door too and slipped inside. The flimsy metal door banged shut behind him. He could hear laughter across the open space. It looked almost like an old hotel or maybe a condominium. There were remnants of walls that perhaps once served as a lobby to a fancy office building or the ground floor of an apartment complex. Now it was a home for the rats and consisted of peeling paint and crumbled drywall.

They were all sitting on the floor, a cooler in the middle and flashlight clicked on, providing little white light. "Hey! Look who decided to stop being a sissy and join us?! Here kid, take one" One of the kids tossed him a bottled beer before he could reasonably catch it. It fumbled in his hands, the glass slipping from the condensation against his fingers and the bottle crashed to the ground, spilling the contents of whatever alcohol they managed to lift earlier that day. He flinched at the uproar of protest from the others and he ducked down to scoop up some of the broken pieces.

"You gotta be the most freakish kid I know, Julio, dropping a valuable commodity like that. You know what I went through to steal it? It's good shit and you're wasting it! Why'd you invite him again?" One of the kids complained to the one in the Mohawk, who merely smirked. The back of his hand smacked into the chest of the one who protested, holding him there. He opened his mouth to speak.

"Who invited you in the first place?" The voice rang out low and deep, gurgled from the depths of a large man's throat. All of the kid's eyes turned up to see a very tall, wide standing man before them, his foot falls stopping just in the fan of light that came from the flashlight's beam. He had on a black muscle shirt, showing a large bicep that was adorned in a deep colored dragon tattoo that snaked around the whole length of his arm. He smiled at the teenagers with a crooked grin, which was anything but welcoming.

A dozen more of the gang came behind him. "Oh shit, DJ, what is this? A tea party?" a scrawny black man chirped at the leading Purple Dragon. His question was followed with a squirrelly laugh.

"Just cuz the door was open don't mean all's welcome. Turns out...we were workin' there." one of the Dragons dropped a crate with a thud to the ground and kicked the flashlight across the concrete floor. It spun in circles, splashing light across the concrete wildly.

In an instant, as if on queue, the kids scrambled up. They climbing clumsily all over one another to get back to the door they'd come through, despite there being half a dozen Purple Dragons between them and the escape. Giving the teens a small start, out of fear, and for the thrill of the chase, the Dragons didn't immediately move.

"JULIO move!" One of the kids barked as Julio had slipped on the beer which he'd sloshed across the floor. It caused him to drop to his knees, soaking his jeans in the amber liquid. More than that, however, it made him the slowest of the group and the easiest target. Barely fifteen years old and all he could think was that this was not the way he wanted to die.

And he was sure he was going to die.

When he felt himself hoisted off the ground by his coat, Julio knew he was alone. Strong arms wrapped around the fabric and yanked him up like a sack of potatoes, easily handling his scrawny frame. The building was quiet, his mediocre and so-called "friends" abandoned him. Tears, hot and terrified, welled in his eyes and gushed across his cheeks, dribbling down his chin in terrified waterfalls. As his feet dangled under him and his body ached from the brunt force of his fall into the beer, and the concrete earlier outside. He started to beg in mumbles that came out in quivering sobs more than anything.

"Heh! DJ, looks like he's about to piss himself," the dark skinned man squealed, as elated as a fisherman who hooked a prized catch.

"Can it, T-bone!" the man pulled Julio close to his face, so much that the young man could almost taste the Dragon's bad breath that radiated from his yellowed teeth.. "Know what we do with kids who snoop? S'right...teach 'em a lesson." He taunted in a low hiss.

Julio wasn't just sure he was going to die...he was positive he was already dead. Particularly as his vision was flooded with moonlight and the dull yellow glow of the back alley's only permanent resident - a street lamp. He had no sense of time or awareness as tears blurred his eyes and he didn't have the will, or the courage to wiggle free from DJ's grasp. It was temporary that he had vision at all because his face hit the pavement faster than he knew he'd been pitched out into the street. A crack sounded through the still night as his face smashed against the concrete, adding rivers of blood to the pools of tears on his cheeks.

"A lesson that gets back to his gang not to screw with the Purple Dragons." It was the last thing Julio heard before he felt a steel-toed boot meet his ribs in a painfully crushing blow. He could feel the reverberation from the crack of several ribs, one of which almost poked through his cocoa skin. He made his primary mistake, in that moment. Rather than take the punishment on behalf of his group, he finally scrambled to his hands and knees in an attempt to escape. Survivalist mode had kicked in and the small amount of adrenaline driving him had him scurrying like a lost and frightened animal. Julio never saw it coming, as his eyes were on the black grimey ground and his vision blurred by tears and blood. The fat Dragon made mostly of doughy blubber - in an attempt to stop him - came down, with his heel, on the back bend of Julio's knee.

Despite his best efforts, through his teary panic, he screamed out as the tendons and ligaments of his knee tore. The very bone of his kneecap crushed into pieces and fragments embedded into the meaty parts of his muscle. He crumpled to the ground in a heap, blood from where his calf bones splintered and cracked through his knee already pooling around his leg. Any hope of escape was lost in his echoed screams as they bounced off the buildings around them.

Overhead, four sets of feet beating the rooftops in a nightly run skidded to a halt, sending bits of gravel and dust over the edge of the massive building.

Raph leaned back over his right shoulder, peeking down at the commotion below. Instantly and silently, his two sai broke free from their home on his belt and he sprang from the rooftop, followed by three similarly prepared mutant turtles.