I do not own the starting point of this story, Smile-I'mTheEndOfAllThatYouSee does. nor do I own TMNT in general or Mikey as a human. All I own is Mimi, who I have changed in appearance slightly in an edit.
*Mikey's POV*
Some wonderful family decided to rat me out. Nestor decided that if I was on the run, and it was understandable where I was going, sending me straight there would be too much of a risk. Rather, he drove me up to Boise, Idaho. He said most people there were okay, and that somebody wouldn't look into Idaho too much for someone going to New York. But of course, someone saw me and recognized me. Bishop's not using helicopters because he'd have nowhere to land, so he has people running around looking for me. They have guns, and here I am in the suburbs, running for my life. I can hardly breathe, but I can't stop. I'm insanely thirsty, but I can't take a drink. They're about a minute behind me, and I can't keep going like this much farther. I turn off from the main road to a cluster of homes on a street called Edson. I keep pushing, finding myself tripping over my feet as I run past house after house, trying not to fall over. I focus only a few feet in front of me, caring only that I don't fall.
*Mimi's POV*
I stand quietly across from my friend's house, listening to the yelling fest. My best friend and her mom disagree at a fundamental level, and fight often. Usually I'll sit in my friend's room and wait out the storm, but this time I decide to go outside, hoping that the light breeze will make the heat a little more bearable in this scorching summer. I make a mental note to myself to start wearing shorts. These skin-tight green, leather print jeans are killing me. Luckily, I have my white T-shirt with a red phone box on it –I like to consider it my TARDIS shirt- and the light shirt isn't making me melt. My red hi-top chucks don't add any heat, nor do my wing earrings or purple plastic glasses, and even my black collar doesn't cause any trouble. Finally I pull myself out of my thoughts and begin to walk a little ways towards home, but am stopped in my tracks when I see the cutest boy I've seen in a while running towards me at full tilt, tripping over his own feet every few steps. It looks like he needs to stop running a minute. I have a slow run, but can keep going, but he seems to be almost flying. I wouldn't be able to catch up to him if he passed me, so I brace my light frame and firmly connect myself to the ground, hands out to stop him. He doesn't seem to see me until the last minute, and it's too late for him to go around me. Instead, he crashes into me at full force and I miraculously hold my ground, feeling the weight of his impact. Now that he's right next to me, I see exactly what he looks like. He has light brown hair that is a little on the long side, with bangs. He's got brown eyes and pale skin, and reminds me vaguely of Justin Beiber. Blech. He wears the look well though. He's about my height, a little shorter, and with a thin, runner build. "Where you goin? Why're you runnin' like the devil's after you?"
He's got a surfer's accent. "Cause' he is. Let me go!" He struggles to get himself out of my grip, but I plant myself down and hold tight to his arm, rooting him to the spot.
"And what'll they do if they find you?" I ask nonchalantly, as if there's no rush.
"They'll kill me!" He yells. This gets me interested, so I talk, quickly and quietly.
"They're looking for a single boy, right?" He nods. I loosen my grip just a hair and he's off like a rocket, running from whoever's following him. Finally I see people rounding the corner and I chase after Mystery Boy like it means the world. Right now, at the prospect of adventure, it is the world.
I don't know how, but I catch up to him right where I had started, and grab his shoulder. As if by reflex, he punches me square in the jaw. I want to beat him to a bloody pulp, but I decide that I'm already planning on helping save his life, and what's a single bruise over a life saved? Instead of bludgeoning him to death with my fist, I keep hold of his shoulder and pull him behind a tree, next to a shrub, and against a shed's side wall. I turn him so he's facing me, completely hidden unless you were to look from the intersection he was running to. Hearing the people chasing him coming closer, I make a moment's decision and basically stage-make out with him. What's not covered of him by tree and tall bush, I hide. The people following him reach the intersection and stop.
"He's gone!" One yells, presumably the leader. The man goes on. "You three, check the north side of the street. You eight, go south and break off a pair at a time down each street. You two, come with me and we'll check he didn't double back down that other street tryin' to outsmart us." It sounds like everybody breaks off, and I hear the man speak again. "Hey kids, breathe!" Just to annoy him, I give out a loud moan. He sighs and walks right past us. Once safely gone, I break from kissing to stare at the boy.
"I just saved your life and don't even know your name. You can thank me any time you feel like it." I smirk, then pause and frown. "What is your name?"
*Mikey's POV*
Startled at her earlier actions and still trying to figure out what just happened, I tell the truth. "My name's Mikey. What was that?"
"That was saving your life. My name's Amelia, but call me Mimi. Something tells me you're not planning on staying here. Where you headed?" She smiles and her brown eyes twinkle with amusement.
"New York." I say honestly, still trying to figure out why she would even save my life, if that's what she feels like calling it.
"That's a while away from here, and is, oddly enough, where I plan on going. Care if I tag along?" I gape in surprise.
"Why would you leave? People are trying to take away my identity and you want to 'tag along'?" She shakes her head and laughs.
"Yeah. I need to get out of here, and it sounds like an adventure. Besides, I'd be helpful. Take a drink of water, I know you got some, and if you don't have some soon, you'll probably faint out here." Obeying only because I had planned on having some, I look back at her. She looks a little insane, her bright, light blonde hair fluffy and neck-length short, with that wild-and-free smile. Without warning she digs into the side of her jeans, where one of the belt loops is tucked inside. She unstraps something, and pulls out a machete with a cloth sheath. "Here, you can use this. I would offer you a choice of this or my blowgun, but I'm better with the blowgun and use it often, and that'd be weird." At this, she pulls out a sleek looking black blowgun with fifteen darts from behind her back. I look at her in awe.
"Why do you have all this stuff?" I gasp, taking the machete from her hands.
"Oh, my friend and I were going to shoot a movie. Wild kids roughing it, you know. Weapons that I already had just made it cooler. So let's go, I got the people all split up into little teams that would be easy to take down. Walking, from here to New York city is only 34 days, give or take, at least google says so." I have the vague feeling it's not a good idea to mess with this girl. Then I notice something.
"Why'd you google that? Doesn't make much sense."
"I've wanted to leave, to travel, since I was little. I wanted to go on an adventure. So, what's the plan, am I in?"
I have the feeling I can't say no. "Sure."
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