A/N: Just fair warning. This is gonna be a DARK one. Madness, Obsession, Abuse and other frightening scenarios will play out. Just in time for Halloween! XD

I, Alone

Chapter 1 – Indiscretion

The spires of the stone church rose high, so high, he thought if he just reached out, his fingertips could maybe just brush the bottom of the stars. They were so pretty; twinkling in the dark like . . . well, like how stars were supposed to look. It was rare to see them. The haze from the city smog and pollution usually blocked out the nighttime light show; leaving a sky that was yellowed and gray with a black edging dripping in celestial lace: an illusion from the light pollution Donatello had explained to him once. He was always quick to point out what Mikey had thought to be stars in the night sky were actually just airplanes and military jets. But Mikey was sure that these, tonight, were really the real thing. Planes could never be so pretty. Twinkle so brightly.

His breath puffed out in a white cloud, marring his view for a moment. His brothers hated the winter. But Mikey didn't mind. He just hated feeling cold. He loved the snow and the way it made everything seem clean and fresh, at least for a little while. It was pretty and peaceful. The night was crisp and clear; the frigid air burnt his nostrils but he took it in until his chest ached from the chill. Because it was so cold tonight, the stars were able to make an appearance. And Mikey was lucky enough to pick this spot to hide.

He knew coming up to the highest point of the steeple was sure to leave him exposed to Raphael who was hunting him. The last thing he needed was Raph winning hide and seek, again. He'd lost twice in a row already, breaking his long lasting winning streak. It was just so hard to concentrate lately. The winter had him bored to death and he found when he went up top everything was so interesting and tempting. Much more so than during the summer when he could come up whenever he practically wanted.

But it was time to take cover before he was spotted. With a shake, he curled his fingers around the metal grating protecting the historically important building's steeple from errant pigeons and swung his legs over to the sloping roof. The toe of one boot struck the icy surface as he placed his weight on it. He slipped and slid down along the frosted shingles on his rump with wide eyes. His carapace skidded until his legs flew off the edge of the line of gutters. He twisted and managed to grip the icy roof ledge. Jaw clenched in fright, he hung there for a moment, heart pounding with panic; mind a blank of white noise.

"Oh smooth, baby brother," a voice full of mocking laughter rose up to his left.

Panting, he turned his face to see Raphael crouched on the roof. The top half of his body hung over the back and one wing of an angel statue; looking all the world like a ghoul straight out of hell. His scarf snapped in the gusting wind. Crimson like a stream of spurting blood against the inky backdrop of the sky. With coiled grace, Raphael's arms were folded and draped over the angel's bowed head; as if the weight of his thick arms caused the humbled posture. The street lamps below gleamed off his incisors. His amber eyes caught the light, glittering with wicked glee.

"Next time you decide to pick a church roof for your hiding spot, don't make it in the middle of January." His breath puffed out in a gray cloud. "Try the back of a laundry mat or someplace else that has those nice warm vents, Dum-dum. I've been freezin' my ass off watchin' ya play King Kong. Though that little stunt where you nearly killed yourself may have been worth the wait," he chuckled and it was a rough sound. Mikey wondered if his brother had been smoking again.

Michelangelo's arms had started to shake and his fingers were growing numb despite the gloves he wore. He glanced once more at his older brother silently pleading for help. Help that never came. He didn't know what he was expecting. He internally groaned. They were supposed to be independent, he got that. But when someone needed a little help, was that too much to ask for? With a sigh he bunched his muscles and began to haul his dangling lower body back up and scrambled for a handhold as his knee came around. All the while Raphael watched him; a smile plastered on his face; not once offering a bit of assistance. Sweating both from the effort and the near death experience, despite the cold, Mikey scampered in a clumsy manner over the side of the roof to come up next to Raph.

Panting he said, "Geez, Raph. You coulda' helped."

"Where's the fun in that? Besides, you were stupid enough to try 'n hide up here. Figured you could manage to get yourself down."

With that, Raph gave the angel a pat on the back of the head and crouched before dropping across and down to the neighboring apartment's fire escape. Besides the tattered red scarf that April had made for him last year wrapped around his neck, Raph was only in his gear. Mikey rubbed his arms. He didn't know if Raph was so hot-blooded the cold didn't faze him or he was just so much of a hard-ass that he was numb to being able to feel anything at all. Even in his bomber jacket, hat and gloves, he was frozen. He followed Raph down and as he landed on the railing of the fire escape, his boot slipped. His arms pin-wheeled and he let out a yelp of fright as he careened backwards. A hand shot out and roughly grabbed him by the collar.

"Christ, Mikey. Ya tryin' ta kill yourself tonight, or what?"

Raphael pulled him securely to the porch, spinning him around so fast, Mikey fell onto his bottom with a grunt. Mikey's face was flushed with embarrassment as he ducked his head. Slipping in front of Raph twice in one night. He'd never hear the end of this.

"No. My boot slipped."

Raphael's bare toes dug into the slushy gray snow that had accumulated on the metal porch. Michelangelo thought they looked a little on the blue shade of the color spectrum.

"That's why I go au natural, little brother." A shrill, sharp whistle cut through the whooshing sound of the billowing gust of frigid air. "Uh, that's Leo." He turned to Mikey who was climbing to his feet, brushing the wet globs of snow off his thighs and bottom while gritting his teeth. "Think you can manage getting down without any help?" he asked, a wry smile on his face.

Mikey bit his tongue, knowing anything he said would only make the tormenting worse.

"Maybe you want me ta hold yer hand going down. Like Master Splinter used ta when you were little," he went on. "Oo, or better yet, how 'bout big brother Raphie give you a piggy back ride down?" Raph sneered as he patted the top of one shoulder.

Michelangelo narrowed his eyes. "Shut up," he snapped. He twisted around to rub some life into his numb thighs from the cold and muttered, "Asshole."

"What was that?" Raph, of course, picked up on the muttered insult.

Mikey straightened up. Still feeling angry, he pressed his mouth into a tight line and glowered at his brother.

"That the thanks I get fer savin' your little snot-nosed ass?" his voice dropped low as he stepped closer to Mikey. He balled his fists and brought his face right up to Michelangelo's. Mikey did not break his stare, though his chest had started to heave as his heart galloped. "Huh, smart mouth?"

The whistle came again. Insistent and demanding in only the way Leonardo could make non-verbal communication come across. Raph spun around.

He bellowed, "I'm COMING!"

His voice echoed up and down the narrow alleyways and off the surrounding bricks of the neighborhood. Mikey winced and could've sworn he heard the exasperated and weary sigh emitted from his eldest brother all the way up where he stood. The light winked on in the apartment behind him. He jumped and pushed at Raph who quickly spun and started down before the owner's silhouette rose up behind the gauzy, torn curtain.

An old woman's voice in a thick New York accent called out as the window opened, "Someone out there?"

Raphael dropped to the ground without making a sound. With two hands he pulled a bundle of wet snow into a ball and gripped it in his right fist. He huffed and dashed past Donatello who'd just lifted his head from the box clutched in his arms; overflowing with discarded computer hardware along with some odd bits and pieces of metal. As he raced passed he cuffed Donnie upside his head. The mound of snow cupped within exploded all over Donatello's head and face.

Donatello's mouth gaped wide in a silent scream of shock and pain. "Raph!" Don hissed; shoulders rigid and hunched. The bottom of his navy overcoat hung wetly near his ankles from walking through the snow.

"Move it or lose it," he called over his shoulder as he cackled at his second oldest brother's distress.

He stooped to scoop more, packing the snow into a tight, large snowball between his thick fingers; admiring the perfect packing quality the day's snow had become. As he stood up, he was met with a hard ball of snow to the face. The fierce impact of it knocked his head back. His heels fumbled across the slick ground and he went down with a loud grunt. Wiping furiously at his eyes with the back of one fist, he snarled and cursed.

Michelangelo burst out laughing from behind. Raphael spun where he lay and scrambled on hands and knees until he launched himself into his younger brother who had just caught up with them. They tumbled through the air as their bodies collided. The laughter choked off from Michelangelo as his breath was knocked from his lungs. They crashed through a pile of garbage cans into the side of a building. Raph reared up where he straddled his younger brother. He punched him once and Mikey blocked with both forearms and a loud growl.

"Ya think that's funny?" Raph bent over and with the side of his hand, scooped up a mound of dirty snow mixed with rotting sludge near the garbage can. He gripped it between his fingers and shoved it into Mikey's mouth and face, rubbing it in with a violent twist of his wrist. "How 'bout this? Eat it, punk!"

Michelangelo struggled frantically as the icy, oily substance was ground into his face. His front teeth stung from the chill. The bitter rank flavor of the melted muck ran through his mouth and over his tongue. He shook his head and punched at Raphael's hulking form. Raph grappled with him until he finally bucked and kicked and managed to throw Raphael off him. Coughing and sputtering, face red from the burning cold he let loose a string of curses that would've made Raphael proud had he not been in such a sour mood.

"You asked for it," Raph ground out with a sullen look and rose up on his elbows.

"I didn't do nothin'!" Mikey screamed; spitting to one side and using his forearms to wipe at his bright red cheeks. His entire face was numb and aching. He gagged and retched. What the hell was that snow mixed with?

Donatello walked stiffly past them, kicking droplets of snow and mud in Raphael's direction. Raph blocked with one arm and glared up at Donatello, gray slush dripping off his snout.

"You're waking the whole neighborhood, buffoon." He shook his head and said more to himself than to Raph, "Next time, I'm just going scavenging alone." He looked up the alley where the eldest was marching slowly back towards the grumbling, gagging, sniffling group. The long black jacket snapped in the gusting wind. The hood from his sweatshirt underneath had fallen back revealing a rigid expression. His face was a mask of neutrality, but from where he stood, Don could see his brother's eyes were a darkened storm of anger and frustration.

"You hear that, Leo?" he called out, knowing that more noise would only piss his brother off that much more. But he felt like Leo deserved it after forcing them all to come along to the dump when Donatello could've managed the run alone and with much less trouble than hauling everyone out in the cold.

"I don't care how many Foot soldiers have been hanging around near the dump. I'm going ALONE," his voice boomed. He walked past Leonardo. "Let's all go out, it'll be good to get some fresh air," Don mumbled in a mockingly high voice meant to imitate their leader, knowing Leo could hear him. The eldest wisely ignored Donatello as he stepped around and continued onward towards the youngest pair.

With glassy eyes full of unshed tears, Michelangelo cast around for his knit hat and found it in a soggy mess of slush. Using his fingers and thumbs he picked it up and looked at it sadly. April had made it for him last year as a gift. He shot Raphael a scowl, which would've been much more effective had his face not been bright red and his body shaking so hard. His jacket was soaked through as well as his gloves. He shook his heavy gloves until they both fell in a loud slap onto the ground. His fingers were numb and tingling. He wouldn't be surprised if he had frostbite.

"Don't gimme that look. You asked for it," Raph snapped.

Mikey balled up the hat and threw it at Raphael's face.

"Dammit! You wanna eat some more?!"

Leonardo's shadow fell over them. "That's enough," he growled. The two grew still and mostly quiet with sullen looks being thrown at each other. "Your behavior is unacceptable. We're ninja. Silent. Remember? What would Splinter think of this?" he hissed, eyes dark and serious; penetrating.

Raphael climbed to his feet with a muffled groan of irritation while Michelangelo looked up in shock at Leonardo's tone. Leonardo shot Raphael a glare but Raph didn't meet his furious brother's gaze.

"You can't be mad at me!" Mikey's face darted from Raph, who was looking everywhere except at Leonardo, then back to his oldest brother. "Y-You're the one that hit him with the snowball!" he accused pointing at Raph who was now rubbing the back of his neck and staring at his feet.

Leonardo crossed his arms. The material of the jacket pulled taunt across his muscular arms. "That's not the point. You two have been making a racket since we started back. Ever since you started that childish game of hide and seek, you've been-"

Leonardo stopped speaking. He tensed. His face snapped up. His arms fell to his sides. Raph instantly had his sais out. Mikey blinked where he sat in the frigid snow; staring up at Leonardo; still feeling his heart pound in his chest, still feeling the sting of unfairness at Leonardo's reprimand and lecture.

"Get back to the lair," Leo ordered in an even voice without looking at either one of them.

Raphael's amber eyes scanned the shadowy ledges of the surrounding buildings. Straining to see what Leo had noticed. His ears tuned sharply for any sound giving away the threat. All his senses, searching for what had his brother on edge; seeing and hearing nothing. He didn't know how Leo did it. But he was never wrong.

He asked without taking his eyes off the skyline, "What is it, Leo? Foot?"

Coldly, Leo snapped, "I said go!" With that he dashed off into the darkness, disappearing into it as smoothly as a drop of rain being engulfed into the sea. Even his footprints from the boots on his feet seemed to melt and recede into the surrounding environment.

Mikey stood up, still shaking, worry etching lines around his eyes. "Wha . . .?"

Raph took two steps forward, as if to follow their leader.

"Hey! Raph, he said to-"

"Yeah, yeah, blah, blah. Get yer ass home." Raph peered over his shoulder. "And be careful." He ran forward and barreled into the darkness, making the surrounding shadows recoil before swallowing his form completely.

"You, too," Mikey whispered.

He stood there for another moment. Alone and in the dark. Shivering. He felt a mix of worry and relief. He stooped and grabbed his wet belongings with a grimace. He shook them out and heavy blobs of slush fell to the ground making funny sounds that he quietly mimicked with his mouth as he moved towards the direction Don had gone off in. Just behind him he thought he heard another soft thud. Like a larger pile of snow falling from a fire escape. Blinking, he glanced over his shoulder.

The movement was met with the blunt end of a katana. It struck the side of his head. A flash of bright pain erupted across his vision as his knees buckled. He pitched forward, dropping his wet outerwear as he grabbed at his temple with a yelp. He didn't have time to cry out again as another blow slammed into the back of his head. His body jumped from the violent impact once and then he laid still in the snow.

"It's alright. It's alright," a low voice repeated frantically as a figure dressed in black crouched next to him. A shaking hand flitted over Michelangelo's body before finally coming to rest on his shoulder. Gently, Michelangelo's unconscious form was rolled to his back. His head lulled to one side and his mouth hung open. A purple bruise was starting to bloom along his left temple above the rim of his orange mask. The trembling hand moved from his shoulder to the side of his face; where it caressed Michelangelo's cheek. "I'm sorry," the man's voice was now light and strained with remorse.

He made a choked sound as he reached under the mutant's shoulders and grasped him beneath his armpits. Looking around quickly, he scrambled; feet slipping in the slush; as he pulled and dragged Michelangelo into the looming shadows where they were embraced and consumed entirely by the awaiting darkness.

A/N: Okay, so I had to get this out here. I am finishing up Scar Tissue and will be working on Tender Trap part 3, but this little evil plot bunny would not let me rest until I at least got it started.

Hang on, Mikey fans, it's gonna be a hell of a ride. Don't forget to leave me encouragement in the form of reviews, questions, comments, rants, opinions, suggestions (especially for music!)