Disclaimer: I do not own the Ninja Turtles, Eastman and Laird own that privilege
Author's Note; Another one shot in which Mikey almost dies. I really need to stop with this theme, but I'm not going to.
At first Mikey seemed to enjoy falling to his death. The snow covered hills was one of his most frequented spots, and his cry's of joy echoed for miles around, a holiday classic I would never grow tired of. He'd already had a little mishap this year with his snowboard, Don was still working on repairing it and Mike's arm still wasn't out of a cast. Which is why when I caught him sneaking out in his snow gear once again, I had tried to stop him. Sadly, one look at those blue eyes, and he had somehow managed to sucker me into going with him instead.
My loose clothing whipped up around me as he came sliding past me, his trashcan lid spinning crazily in all directions and a smile plastered so large across his face it was probably going to get stuck that way until summer. Yet I couldn't help but to chuckle myself, his laughter infectious. I was however, fixing to call him back in so that we could head home. Leo would kill me if I let him catch a cold on top of the broken arm. Really, I didn't see the harm in it. We had come to one of the more deserted parts of town that just so happened to have a huge hill perfect for freezing over with snow. Mikey and I had already gone down it so may times that we'd carved through all the fresh snow and were now down to the icy blacktop beneath, we'd have to come back after a fresh snowfall or it was going too get to dangerous and we'd end up sliding right into the docks below, and subsequently into the chilly December water.
My baby brother had convinced me to let him go down one more time, and as I watched him try to stop, only to skid on a solid patch of ice and make a beeline for the dark water below, I knew that it could be the death of him. "Mikey!" I cried out so loud it must have woken up all of New York, but I didn't care. Snatching up my own lid, I went sailing down after him, knowing I'd never make it in time, forcing gravity to shoot me down faster anyways.
It was over as quick as it had started, for he was nothing if not original. Michelangelo had the brilliant idea to simply jump off of his lid, letting the metal slide down into the water, though sadly unable to stop his own momentum as he continued rolling himself until he had tumbled off the pier right after it head first. I heard the splash, felt my heart sink down right into the Hudson with him even as I came to a more graceful stop, having managed to avoid the ice patch that had thrown him in, and fell to my knees before the dark wood, already tossing off my garments and prepared to go down there and drag his shell out, ice and all.
"No, no, no," I kept muttering it, over and over, as I finally kicked off the cumbersome shoes, as if saying the word over and over again would somehow manage to have stopped the whole thing from happening. I managed to get the pants off right as I prepared to dive in, only to freeze at what I saw.
Mikey hadn't fallen in the water, at least not completely. In the seconds he must have realized what was going to happen, he must have managed to kick off his own shoes, releasing his more dexterous feet and had somehow managed to cling to the icy post supporting the dock, upside down. As the water continued to lull up and down, Mikey only had a chance to spit out water and inhale oxygen before his head was again plunged back under, and he kept dipping lower every second. Already I could tell his encased arm was going to give out on him any second.
Without a second thought I hooked my own feet around one of the posts and swung down, grabbing hold of his shell and pulling him free of his icy perch, hugging him as close to my chest as I could. I could feel every cough as he choked up water, and every shaking limb as his body adjusted. I gave him as much time as I could, but already I could feel my own muscles quivering from exertion. "Swing yourself up anytime now bro," I hissed through gritted teeth. I couldn't see his face, only the back of his head as he seemed to shake himself off and then without another word give the two of us an almighty swing until his uninjured arm latched back onto the dock. He hauled himself up, then without a word, reached down and grabbed hold of my belt to pull me up as well. We both sat there for a moment, breathing hard, both of us coming to terms with the fact that we weren't dead until finally I got my breath back and managed to get to my feet, eyeing him warily when he didn't do the same.
"Come on Mikey, we got to get home before you catch hypo whatever. Leo's already going to have my shell for this." He glanced up at me with those big ol' blues that had gotten us into this mess in the first place, but there was that sparkle that meant I'd better start swinging now.
"Thanks-" he said just as my hand connected with his head. "Ouch!" He cried, now glaring daggers at me. "What was that for?"
I just shrugged, sure he deserved it anyway for this whole mess. "That's the last time I ever let you talk me into doing this."
He just huffed, grabbing my now outstretched hand and allowing me to help him to his feet. "That's what you said when I broke my arm last week, yet here we are."