This was my first fanfiction, and my biggest 15yo regret. Don't have the heart to take it down. All I can do is try to fix it the best I can. I'm sorry.
Don't judge me. I'm sure you did dumb shit when you were 15 too. XD
TMNT
They were freaks. That was the kinder term for it.
Creatures of the night. People who weren't really people. Monsters.
Mikey knew the stories. Knew the way they were wasn't their fault, none of theirs.
That didn't make him feel any less self conscious. Any less dysphoric in his body of patchwork scales and deformed bone structures. Mutated blood ran through his veins, and it made him unsightly. Made all of world a danger to them, with it's curious, dissecting scientists, and it's radical hunters looking to snuff out monsters like him, and all other impurities of God.
"i hate my face" Sent 10:24
"I think it's beautiful." Received 10:25
"i hate my body" Sent 10:26
"I think it's perfect." Received 10:26
"i hate i cant walk out in the daylight with you because of these scales." Sent 10:27
"You can. I can show you how." Received 10:27
"my brothers would kill me." Sent 10:30
"They would have to get past me first." Received 10:30
Was it so wrong that he indulge himself in something that made him feel normal?
~.:(tmnt):.~
For about six months he'd been sneaking out every once in a while to shake off some stress.
He would run around on his own for an hour or two, and just let himself breath easier.
Don't get him wrong, he loved his family. He loved them with all his heart, but sometimes he needed a few sparse hours to himself.
Their dad was always such a Drill Sargent. He'd raised them off the grid since the day they became his sons. He was so adamant that the public never find out about them. If he knew what his youngest son was getting up to in the late night hours -sneaking out and running the city tops- Mikey was certain it would be catastrophic.
Leo and Raph were always fighting.
Mikey wholeheartedly believed the two of them couldn't go ten minutes without clawing each other's thoughts out. And Donnie was always down in his lab. The only time he ever surfaced from the basement was when April came over.
April was a sister to them, in every way. Except Donnie wouldn't ever love her the way a brother would.
She'll had a talent for geeking out with Don almost as well as Leo could. They could pal around in the basement for hours, unless Casey's there. Casey was another brother of theirs. Raph had brought him in one day, and after that he became a part of the family a lot like April had.
And he loved them both like the family they were, and he hated himself for it, but when they were around he couldn't help the gnawing teeth of jealousy in the pit of his chest. Jealousy for the fact that they didn't have slates of scales creeping out from under their perfect human skin like him and his brothers. Jealousy that they didn't have to worry about covering their eyes with masks to hide the flecks of green that formed there. That when they were badly hurt they could go to a hospital without worrying that a blood sample or an ex-ray would guarantee the end of their freedom.
He felt sick for envying them. Sick at himself. Just another thing on the list of reasons he's always sick with himself.
The point was they all had their down sides. And, no matter how much he cared for each of them, Mikey never really fit with them like he had always wanted to so badly.
He was different. He was a screw up. He wasn't like them. They knew it, but they pretended they didn't think so.
They loved him too, and he knew that. He knew that like he knew the sky was blue, and that the Earth revolved around the son.
But he still needed just a few hours. A few hours a month. A few hours a week, at most.
And he'd been very careful to ensure his secret outings were kept a secret.
Until the night it was too much.
Their father had been gone a while. It wasn't uncommon for him to be absent for an elongated period of time. It wasn't uncommon for Leo and Raph to argue even more while he was away.
One night Raph and Leo were getting into it. Really getting into it.
There was screaming, and cursing, and insults, and all kinds of things were said.
Mikey wasn't sure how it started. He wasn't sure they knew either, but when that first punch was thrown he and Don knew it was time to step in.
In times fights as bad as those, sometimes they were all that stood between their older brothers killing each other.
Leo dodged the first hit and retaliated with a graze to the Raphael's jaw. Donnie grabbed Leo's arms and held them behind his back, and Mikey did the same to Raph before he could go for another hit.
Really, they could have just thrown their little brothers off and kept fighting. Him and Donnie weren't enough to legitimately restrain their bright eyed warriors. But they always stopped for them anyway because they didn't want to involve the younger two in their petty arguments.
"Let go of me, Mike." Raph said in warning.
"If we let go, you guys are gonna end up breakin' something!" He shot back.
"Or each other." Donnie added.
"I think that's the idea, Donnie." Leo sighed, having cooled off a little.
Don let go of Leo's arms, believing he was calmed down enough.
"Just let him go, Mikey. We'll stop, okay?" Leo's sapphire eyes were honest, and tired. Mikey knew he always felt bad after his baby brothers had to step in and break up a fight. He didn't like losing his temper, or self control like that.
Hesitantly, Mikey let go of Raph and stepped back a little.
The two oldest just stood there for a moment, neither willing to back down before the other.
Then Leo sighed again and went to retreat from the stare down. "It doesn't matter, Raph. Why don't we just-"
Raphael was throwing another punch at him, cutting him off.
Instinctively, Mikey jumped to latch onto his arm before he could land a blow.
The hit meant for Leo ended up planting itself directly into Mikey's face. The force of it sent him to the floor. This, apparently, only made his redhead brother even angrier.
Now -in Raph's defense- he had the anger issues of a schizophrenic bull. Mikey knew he didn't mean to force his forearm into his gut and shove him aside with enough force to put him through a wall.
Between seeing stars from the white hot pressure in his face, and the lost equilibrium of being practically punched in the gut by a freight train, Mikey wasn't able to keep his balance very long.
Mikey stumbled across the hardwood flooring and smacked his head on the staircase. Hard.
When he sat up, he could hardly see. It was hard to process what else was going on. All he could think about was the pain in the back of his head, and when it wasn't passing quick enough, he was done.
He stood up shaky legs and pressed the palm of his hand against his aching head. His vision swam, but he could make out the small smear of red across his fingers when he pulled them away from his scalp.
He was dizzy, and he felt sick. And he knew more than anything he needed to leave.
All three of his brothers watched as he clumsily maneuvered around the couches. Their jaws hung open and they watched quietly, stunned, not knowing what to do, or how to react to what just happened.
Blood leaked from his nose and down his face, but Mikey didn't notice. He was too lost in the sickening crack of his skull hitting the staircase. It resounded in his head, along with his heartbeat hammering away in his ears. The sound pounded at his brain, like a sludge hammer.
Leo was the first to break away from the shock, rushing past an awestruck Raph, and a dumbfounded Donnie, to try and sit Mikey down on one of the couches. Mikey wasn't sure what he was doing, but he wasn't going to stay in that house.
He brushed passed his brother and shook his head of blond locks with a pained hiss, before running out the door.
Leo followed him out down the stairs of the porch, only stopping in the yard because of the rule against leaving the house when Splinter isn't there. But Mikey didn't care about the rules at the moment.
He kept running until his lungs burned. Until his nose clogged up with thick, brittle, drying blood. Until his vision cleared, and the sickness in his guts settled to a dull ache.
Until he couldn't hear his oldest brother calling his name anymore.
~.:(tmnt):.~
He was in a daze right up until he reached the streets of the city. Standing in the first streetlight he came to, he began to shake himself of whatever instinctive need he had that drove him there.
He climbed a fire escape up onto the roof of an old brick building. The pressure in his head dissipated a bit, or at least enough for him to realize he'd had a bloody nose.
"Ugh." He looked down and mourned the large droplets that stained his orange shirt. "Augh!"
The traces of cracking red trails flaked off his face as he rubbed his jacket sleeve over it. His zipper caught at he zipped up his black jacket. He fiddled with it far too long before it gave in and covered the evidence of his ruined shirt.
Sitting on a roof taking in the scenery always sounded nice. But usually he had his mp3 player and a sketchbook with him to listen to and work on while the time passed. Right now he'd just been lucky he was wearing a jacket before he stormed out.
Plus he was feeling antsy. He needed to move.
Rooftop jumping. That would be good.
Mind made up, Mikey measured the distance between the ledge he stood on and the one across the alley. He took a few steps back, then jumped it with a running start.
Once he started, he found it hard to stop. He always loved this. The crisp night air filling his lungs with adrenaline and he soared through the sky. It was like magic.
After a while of roof top jumping his headache faded even more, and he could feel his stomach growling. He stopped on another ledge and looked out at his surroundings. The streets below were all so lit up and full of life.
He pulled his phone out to check the time and wondered weather or not to check the numerous message alerts his screen alerted him to.
He decided to ignore them.
11:27
Great. He'd been running around for over two hours, no wonder he was starving.
He spotted a dumpster along side a closed Chinese restaurant. He contemplated it for a good five seconds before his stomach growled again and he reminded himself he had eaten worse.
With a shrug he found the closest fire escape and climbed his way down to street level.
Humming along to whatever song found it's way into his head, Mikey moseyed on up to the dumpster, then leaped up to balance over the edge on his waist.
Face first in garbage, he reached in to push bags aside, sifting though to find something more on the edible side.
He'd been doing pretty good. He'd eaten two pieces of sushi he'd been pretty sure wasn't spoiled, and a sugar bun that had a bit of soy sauce on it, but left a sandy, sticky layer of sugar on his lips and fingers.
He felt his hair stand up at the presence of other people around him.
In one swift gymnastic move Mikey had planted his palms on the dumpster edge, pushed himself up and spun around to crouch on the dumpster's metal lip.
Seven guys stood between him and the rest of the alley way. They'd formed a sort of half circle around him and his trash heap, looking at him with disgust, amusement, or both.
Mikey smiled easily at them. "Evening, gents."
"Hey, friend." One of them snickered in a high nasally voice. "You need some help?"
"Nope. Just lookin' for some food. Nothing deserving of your precious time." Mikey said.
He went to go back to rummaging through garbage, but was interrupted again. This time the guy talking to him knocked a bo staff against his arm a few times.
"And what are you willin' to pay for it?"
Mikey glanced up, noting the dragon tattoo winding down the man's arm where it reached up to hold his staff. A Chinese style dragon, tail going up and disappearing past his sleeve.
A few tats, and jackets on the other guys provided the same identification.
Purple Dragons.
Mikey felt a pang of fear at the thought of the gang, buy these guys were nothing. The way the man in front of him holding his staff like a sword made that very clear.
"Willing to pay for what?"
"For the food." The man said, pulling the small staff back and resting his hands atop it like a cane. "You come into my part of town, to this fine establishment, and expect to eat for free? That's pretty rude. Am I wrong?"
His companions leered and chimed in with agreements.
Mikey wasn't impressed. "This is a dumpster."
The man with the high voice went to speak again, but Mikey wasn't finished.
"Now, I don't know what kind of places you lot usually dine at, but I'm pretty sure even the rats around here would agree that this stuff isn't exactly high quality."
He supposed they didn't like his sass very much.
The guy closest growled and took a swing at him with his staff he couldn't hold right to save his life. The strike was slow and sloppy, and Mikey had no problem at all with leaping up and out of the way, over the group and roll on the pavement toward the fire escape.
The little group really wasn't worth his time.
Then he took a look at their surprised faces, and he changed his mind. This could even be fun.
Instead of going up the fire escape, he smirked and beckoned the men forth. The leader of the group looked beat red at the show of superiority, and ran at him holding his staff like a baseball bat.
He took another swing in Mikey's moderate direction. With little effort, Mikey snatched the pipe away from him and spun it around professionally, just to show off a little.
It almost made him laugh that they were so awfully armed. Sure at least they had weapons, but wasn't this supposed to be a gang?
These days no sane gang member ran the streets without a firearm. But so far all Mikey saw were crowbars and baseball bats and even a guy with plain metal chains. What was this, bad guy kindergarten? What timezone did these guys crawl out of? Where were their parents? These were just children in men's shoes.
Even still, Mikey held the pipe at his side, ready to swing out at the next threatening move. He smiled happily, ready to give a demonstration in weapon handling.
However, before he had the chance to beat some sense into them, a newcomer charged in from the alley entrance.
He was a dark mass against the streetlight's glow behind him, but his imposing form was humbling, and Mikey found himself hoping he wasn't with them.
His hopes were realized when the mountain of a man began tearing the two back guys apart. While Mikey was just as confused as the rest of them, he took their moment of surprise to his advantage.
He spun the staff around then brought it up, slamming the big guy closest to him in the head with it, then smacked it down across his back to knock him down.
Once he was out, Mikey moved on to the next one; jabbing him hard in the stomach with the end of the staff before possibly breaking his jaw -as well as knocking him out- as Mikey swung the staff against his face. The Purple Dragon fell back into the guy with the high voice -who in turn, was also knocked out when his head made impact with the wall- and they both went down at once.
Meanwhile, the newcomer took out the last guy standing by, practically throwing him into the wall. I wouldn't have been surprised if that wall had caved in from the sheer force of an unconscious stocky man being flung into it like a rag doll. All seven gang members were out, leaving Mikey to stand alone with the mystery man who decided to step in.
The were silent for a few short seconds before Mikey brightened up.
"Hey, thanks for the help, man." He said with his usual happy grin in play.
The shadow of a man snapped his attention up at the boy and took a few menacing steps toward him. The closer he got, the farther Mikey backed up until he hit the dead end of the alley.
The guy only got closer, looking over Mikey's face, and for a second Mikey actually thought he was going to eat his soul.
It would be all over the news the next morning 'Adorable mutant child with endless style and swag found brutally murdered and mutilated by psychotic crazy man in a sketchy as hell alleyway.'
Tall, dark and brawny was literally inches away from him and was intimidating the very life out of him.
He was taller than Raph -who was tallest out of the family with a whopping 6'3- by an inch or two. Which was quite an advantage over little 5'2 Mikey. The nervous teen could only think of one way to get out of this. Calmly, he dropped the bo staff he'd acquired from his attackers, and held his arms up over my head in surrender.
"Okay, I'm harmless. Just a small, helpless kid. No threat here. I don't have any money either, so there's really no point in mugging me or anything." Mikey chuckled, eyes wide. His voice was small and quiet, but he tried not to sound panicked.
"Are you okay?" The stranger asked calmly. His voice was deep and gravely with no trace of ill intent.
Well that was unexpected.
"Yeah... yeah, I'm fine." Mikey said with another laugh, this one less forced. His smile felt more genuine.
Realizing he still had his hands up in surrender, Mikey quickly lowered them, cheeks burning red as he coughed a bit to hide his embarrassment. The guy chuckled.
The guy stepped back out of Mikey's breathing space after he was, apparently, done looking him over for injuries.
"Are you sure? You got a little..." His rescuer trailed off, pointing at his black t-shirt like he was trying to convey a discrete message.
Mikey looked down at the rather obvious blood stain on his shirt, and was faintly aware of the smeared traces of it on his face from what he'd missed earlier. His jacket must have unzipped a little somewhere through the chaos of the night's events.
"That... actually happened earlier." He explained shortly, zipping his jacket back up to hide the mess.
The zipper caught again.
The two of them stood in a long sort of silence. It seemed to last longer then it actually had, as Mikey struggled to move his caught zipper. It was a dramatic scene that had the stranger in the alley snickering and shaking his head of long raven hair.
Finally his jacket decided to stop making him look like a fool in front of his savior.
Mikey shuffled his feet restlessly, looking up at the mountain of a stranger as he twiddled his fingers, awkwardly playing and twisting at his sleeves.
The man gave him an understanding smile and nodded his head towards the street, probably feeling just as out of place as Mikey was, standing among a bunch of knocked out, wannabe thugs.
Mikey smiled meekly at him and trotted along behind as he turned to leave the alleyway. When they were out and illuminated by the overhanging streetlights they stopped, and used the moment to take a good look at each other in the light.
Mikey's eyes trail over him curiously, just as the man's were doing to him. His long black hair came down passed his shoulders. His eyes were a wicked green color, light, like leaves in sunlight. His clothes were nice enough, clean but worn blue jeans, previously noted t-shirt under a half zipped up leather jacket, dark boots that looked a bit old, but well taken care of.
Very laid back clothing style. Mikey felt like a bum in his presence with his ripped jeans, stretched jacket, stained shirt, and beat up orange converse. Tall pretty boy didn't seem to mind though.
Mikey shrugged his hands into his pockets, shifting his weight from his heels to his toes a few times to unleash some nervous energy. "Thanks... again, for..you know... helpin' me out and junk." He stumble over his words, not really knowing how to thank a stranger for jumping into a fight for him.
"No problem." He stated, pulling one of his hands from his pockets to hold out towards Mikey. "My name's Luther, by the way. Luther Headrick."
Mikey reached out to take his offered, much larger hand, giving it a friendly shake.
"I'm Mikey Hamato." He stated as they pulled back their hands and placed them back into their respective pockets. "More commonly known as the almighty, powerful, Michelangelo, but, it's whatever." He said sardonically with a shrug.
"Like the renaissance artist." Luther said, a brow raised in accompany to his amused smile.
"Exactly." Mikey grinned. "Dad really likes his art history."
It was a fun introduction that could have turned into a friendly discussion, but Mikey's stomach chose just then to remind him of how hungry he was with the loudest growl imaginable. The small teen looked down at himself with just as much surprise as Luther did, before looking back up at him sheepishly. "Well, again, thank you. It's been real. But I better-"
"Let me buy you dinner." Luther suggested almost hopefully. "You sound like you need it."
Mikey laughed, looking him over for with a grin. "Shouldn't it be the other way around? You selflessly dive into an ambush. I buy you food as thanks?"
"I thought you said you don't have any money." Luther said, switching his weight onto his other foot with a smirk.
"I don't, but still." The blond held his gaze, wondering if he was serious or not. Mikey's head was a bit wary of the offer, but his belly was screaming for nourishment. The idea of someone paying for warm food for him instead of settling with half eaten garbage was exciting to say the least. Mikey's smile grew wider as he made his decision. "You know what, that would be awesome! Know anywhere with good pizza?"
Luther nodded, turning to begin their journey down the sidewalk. "I know the perfect place." He walked ahead, leaving Mikey to follow in what he assumed was the direction of his free, warm, non-moldy food, all the while starting up a friendly conversation.
"What do you have in mind?"
"Somewhere I like to hang out. And when we get there we should put some ice on your face. It's starting to bruise up pretty bad. I don't mean to be rude, but you look terrible." Luther said matter-of-factly.
Mikey reached up to touch his face where he'd been hit earlier only to hiss slightly and pull his fingers away from his tender cheek and nose.
"How did that happen, anyway -if I'm aloud to ask? You said it wasn't from the fight."
"Well, it was an accident." Mikey explained pitifully. Luther looked down at him as the teen shrunk in on himself a little. "And also not. It's kinda hard to explain."
"Home problems?" He asked sympathetically.
"You could say that." Mikey sighed, before brightening up again, wanting to change the conversation.
"So, Luther Headrick. That's kind of a mouth full. Is that your first and last name, or just the first and middle, like Mary Kate?"
Luther chuckled again. I was good at making him do that.
His new friend must have sensed his need for a happier discussion topic, because he switched right to it with a small smile, without question.
"Your first name is Michelangelo and you're judging me?" He pointed out. "It's my last name. The one I chose anyway."
Well that was a little cryptic.
"What about you, Michelangelo Hamato? You don't really look Japanese to me."
"Dude, people only call me that when I'm in trouble." Mikey said. "You can just call me Mikey. Everyone else does."
"I think I'll call you Michael." Luther said looking back at him for approval. "If that's alright with you, of course. I always liked that name. It's got a nice ring to it." It did have a nice sound. Mikey just always thought it sounded too formal for his strictly casual style.
Also Donnie liked to call him that when he was being condescending. Maybe it would be nice to have someone calling him that in a friendly manner rather than in pure haughtiness.
"Yeah, that's fine." Mikey agreed happily.
...
Mikey knew the "No talking to strangers" rule very well. It probably applied doubly to mutant children in the likelier terms of them being kidnapped and sold off to the highest bidder.
So he was cautious when following a stranger to an unknown location. The thought had occurred to him more than once that this guy was actually walking him to his white panel cereal killer van. But Mikey had been raised in the martial arts. Training his whole life in case of a situation such as this.
The guy may be built like a monster truck, but Mikey had skill. He was sure if he needed to he could get himself out of any situation turned south. So he didn't worry about it too much.
Plus Luther didn't seem like that kind of person. Mikey liked to think he was a good judge of character when it came to stuff like this.
Turned out he was right because not long after they started walking they reached their destination.
A hole in the wall building with a crooked sign out front that read "Xever's". Luther had already been on his way there when he'd crashed the alley party and helped Mikey out with his predicament.
Luther held the door for him, and when Mikey walked in his ears were automatically flooded with a strong beat and a sweet guitar riff.
They were in a bar. Not the old style bar with the pool table and smelly bicker dudes.
More like a club. Neon lights flashed and lit up the dance floor, while a live band played on the small stage in the corner. To their right was a dimly lit bar counter. Soft yellow light made it feel more mellowed out than the dance floor.
Tables were set in the back corner and at the front by the windows. Mikey followed his new friend to one in the back and sat beside him while taking everything in with glittering azure eyes.
"Dude, I don't know if I'm old enough to be in here!" Mikey shouted over the music. "Are they gonna wanna card me or somethin'?"
Luther waved his hand in an unconcerned back and forth motion. "You're fine! Don't worry about it!"
Taking his word for it, Mikey let himself relax.
They sat near the restrooms, so it was comical, and pitiful all at once to watch people rushing in and out of the better lighted hallway.
Some of them were exhausted from dancing, some of them sick from having a little too much to drink. Others headed back there with lips locked and clothes being clawed at.
Mikey felt his face warm up at the sight of lustful couples retreating to the back, laughing in astonished disbelief at them.
The two of them didn't try to start up another conversation. Considering the music was so loud they would have to scream at each other to be able to hear.
Mikey took to drumming his fingers against his thighs to the beat of the song. He didn't know what kind of music it was or the name of the band, but it was really speaking to his spirit.
Eventually a waitress came over. She looked at Luther and smiled, pen and paper at the ready to take their orders. Mikey thought that was funny since they didn't have menus or anything.
"Hey, baby! Finally come to visit me again, huh?" She said cheerfully. "What'll it be?"
Oh, so they knew each other.
"The usual!" Luther yelled out over the music. The woman nodded, scribbling down whatever his usual was on her notepad.
She turned her attention on Mikey expectantly. "And who is this little gem?"
"Hi! I'm Mikey!"
"I'm Laura!" She introduced, leaning over the table to shake his hand animatedly. "It's a pleasure!"
"Same!" Mikey grinned back.
Laura pilled back and elbowed Luther in the shoulder, smirking down at him. "Oh, he's cute! I like him!"
Mikey snickered in appreciation. He was never one to shy away from praise of any kind.
Then she looked back at him, pen on paper at the ready.
"What can I get for you, sweetie?"
He was about to ask what kind of pizza they had, when her face scrunched up into a squint, then changed to an expression of worry.
"Oh- my goodness! What happened to your pretty face?"
Mikey looked at her helplessly.
An anxious glance at Luther, and he smiled, taking pity on the poor boy.
"He had a little accident a while ago! Can we get a pepperoni pizza and a coke for him, please!" He ordered. "Also, can you wrap up some ice in a few paper towels for his shiner?"
"Of course, hon! Right away." She smiled pitifully at Mikey. Then she pointed at her eyes and shouted. "Amazing! your face is bruised to hell and your makeup is still better than mine!"
Laura winked at him then walked back to the bar.
Mikey felt all the blood drain from his face.
Shit.
He'd left his mask at home!
No wonder this nice stranger wanted to buy him dinner. That's how it works!
Help out a guy with -what probably looks like- green gems or sequins stuck like eye shadow to his face, then take him out for dinner. He probably thought Mikey was a bedazzled male escort!
Okay. Calm down. He could probably play this off. Just go along with it until he's ready to go home. Then say good bye and it's done.
And that's exactly what he was going to do. But then he turned back to Luther, and he was looking at him with an expression so open and wondering, Mikey thought he could feel butterflies swarming his rib cage.
He propped his elbow up on top of the table and rested his head in his hand. His green eyes locked on Mikey's face and Mike started looking around the room trying to find something to occupy my mind with other than the deep soulful gaze aimed his way.
His hands tapped at the table top, and his restlessness had him rubbing at his nose before remembering how sensitive it was.
"It's not makeup is it?" Luther asked.
Suddenly Mikey couldn't think. He turned to look at the other with owlish eyes as his mind drew a blank. His mouth worked around something to say, but nothing left his lips.
With all the cunning, quick witted, misdirecting wisdom lying in the root of his very being, Mikey finally managed to slip out a, "Huh?"
"I noticed when I first saw you." Luther said, scooting a little further forward in his chair. "I could barely see the scales from the street lights. But I knew what you were instantly."
Alarms and warning lights were going off in his head. He was pretty sure his heart wasn't supposed to be beating this fast, and he could feel his fight or flight instincts about to kick in.
If this guy was able to tell what he was from just a dark alley glimpse, than being out in a crowd was putting his whole family at risk.
Mikey felt how tense his body was, and wasn't even aware he was in the process of jumping out of his seat and running for the door until Luther spoke up again to knock him out of his own spinning head.
"Don't freak out!" He almost begged, trying to keep Mikey calm. He reached over to hold gently onto Mikey's arm. "You're just like me."
There was a short pause where Luther looked like he was debating with himself weather or not to reveal some life changing secret. His searching green eyes were locked on baby blues, biting his lip before letting out a decisive sigh.
Just as Mikey was expecting him to drop some catastrophic bomb shell -like, Michael, I am your father- he pulled his mass of black hair over his shoulder to show off a defined patch of dark, jade green scales creeping up the back of his neck.
Mikey's senses numbed. The music sounded like it was coming from outside. He felt cold, and his body felt like lead. His destructive hurricane of thoughts stopped immediately, replace with one single thought of solid realization.
Just like the scale patches me and my brothers have.
Subconsciously, he reached out, feeling the need to touch. To feel and prove what he was seeing was real life. Mikey slid his fingers over Luther's neck, eyes locked on him in surprise. They were real.
"What?" Mikey asked, not knowing what else to say. He had never met another mutant outside of his family before. "You're one of us?"
"I've haven't seen anyone else like me since I was little. Then I saw you, and I just couldn't walk away." He said leaning a bit closer.
The lessened distance between them put Mikey's palm over the scales, feeling a rise like a ridge or a spike in the center of Luther's neck.
"Can I?" Luther asked, raising a hand hesitantly toward Mikey.
The blond nodded, then chomped down on his cheek at the nervous twisting in his gut as Luther trailed his thumb over the smooth reptilian skin at the corner of Mikey's eye.
He let himself feel the scales under his thumb in awe, then let out a gust of air in an amazed laugh.
"How many are there? Like us, I mean."
"J-just me and my brothers. And my dad, but he's not reptilian." Mikey explained.
"What species?" Luther asked, pulling his hand away. Mikey kept his hand where it was, fingers trailing up into his dark hair line at the nape of his neck.
"Turtle. You?"
"Crock." He said lifting his lip a little to show off a few fang like teeth.
That was awesome.
"Dude..." Mikey drawled in wonder.
Soon enough they became completely enveloped in each other. Somewhere among the chatter, the waitress brought back a frosty ice pack, swaddled up in a hand towel for Mikey's face.
The conversation was a bit difficult to keep up with by then. Luther's attention was divided between recounting his childhood, and leaning over the table slightly to keep the ice pack pressed to the younger boy's face.
He insisted on doing it himself after a while, since Mikey couldn't stop flailing his arms and using wild hand gestures to properly communicate his excitement.
By the time their food made it to their table Mikey had learned that Luther was eighteen -only a few months older than Leo- and he had been smuggled out of the camps and into America by none other than Mikey's father.
After that discovery, Mikey was already planning on how to introduce him to his family. He knew his dad would be thrilled to meet one of the many lives he'd saved at risk of his own.
Mikey told him about the tragic, heroic tale of his adoptive father. How he had worked in the camps as a military man during the DNA testing, and made it his mission to save as many lives as he possibly could.
How he'd been found out, and his own wife and baby daughter had been forced into the camps as well to keep the government's dirty secret under wraps.
About how in his attempt to escape with his family, they had dragged Mikey and his three older brothers along with them, and his father's family had been lost.
He told him about how his dad was a hero, for how many lives he'd saved, and for raising Mikey and his brothers as his own in the outskirts of the city after they'd cost him his wife and little girl.
While Mikey hungrily scarfed down his food, he listened as Luther told him about how he had managed to live in an orphanage, with a few older mutant children that watched after him. One day someone found out about them, and they were forced to leave. They all went off on their own, and Luther had to learn to take care of himself. He never saw them again.
After He was done with his story Mikey smiled at him comfortingly, patting his broad shoulder. They both looked at each other in a daze, like they were still trying to process that they had just met another of their kind.
Mikey wasn't sure, but he had a feeling something sparked between the two of them. Like they had kindled a fire in one another, the kind that starts the making of a deep meaningful friendship.
Then he felt a vibration in his pocket and sighed. Taking his hand back from Luther's shoulder, Mikey pulled his phone from his pocket and checked the time.
Hell, it was late! The guys must be freaking out.
Mikey looked over his messages to see a couple texts from Donnie, a couple dozen texts and two missed calls from Leo, and about a few hundred messages from Raph.
"Holy wow." Mikey muttered, looking at his message box like it could bite.
He checked the ones from Donnie first.
'Mikey, are you alright?' 5:36pm
'Please come back soon. The guys are getting really stressed out, and I have to take a look at your injury.' 6:12pm
He looked at a few from Leo, next.
'Mikey where are you? Are you ok?' 5:48pm
'Raph is sorry about hitting you so just please come home.' 6:02pm
'You've got us all worried Mikey. Text me back.' 7:53pm
Then the voicemails and a few more texts, but Mikey just skipped them. He hated making his brothers worry. He could just here their frantic voices in the texts, and felt his stomach sink.
He skimmed over a few from Raph, but really just read the first and skipped to the last.
'mikey im so sorry. i didnt mean to punch you it just happened. are you ok?' 5:42pm
'dammit mikey im flippin my shit here. im sorry! how many times do i need to say it? just answer me for fucks sake please!' 12:45am
"Crap..." Mikey sighed, running a hand through his unruly blond locks.
"What is it?" Luther asked, looking at him worriedly.
"I have to go before my brothers die of heart attacks." Mikey said, standing up. He was sad he couldn't stay and talk some more with his new friend. "But, hey! We should meet up again sometime." Mikey suggested, but it was more on the line of a request.
Mikey flashed him a hopeful grin, and Luther smiled back.
They agreed to meet there again on Thursday, which was only two days away, but still.
After trading numbers, Luther offered to walk him home. Mikey assured him that he could take care of himself just fine. Luther stated that after watching him demolish those guys in their fight earlier, he had no doubt in his mind that Mikey was more then capable of making sure he found his way home alright.
Then they said their goodbyes and parted ways.
~.:(tmnt):.~
It was 2:05 am the next time he checked his phone.
It was a long walk back from the bar, and, as he climbed the steps onto the porch, Mikey took a deep breath, preparing himself for the sheer hell to pay behind the door.
Maybe they just gave up and went to bed?
He opened the front door and stepped inside, closing it behind him as quietly as he could. And that was fairly quiet, since he was kind of an actual ninja.
Immediately, after shutting the door, he heard footsteps racing up the stairs from the basement. Donnie pushed passed the blue bed sheet -that served as a door at the top of the steps- and took one long look at his little brother. Donatello sighed in heavy relief before giving him a stern expression. Mikey returned with a sheepish smile.
"Come on." He ordered, turning around and heading back into the lab. Mikey followed obediently.
Once they reached basement level Mikey found himself sat on a table, Don practically sitting him down in the spot by force.
Mikey kicked his legs back and forth as Don went to work, making sure his cute freckled nose wasn't broken, and seeing if he had a concussion or not. Donnie seemed a little frustrated with him. He was giving him the silent treatment. And he had his angry face on.
A purple bandanna held back chestnut hair out of his milk chocolate eyes. His oil splotched violet t-shirt was half tucked into his cargo pants and he looked like a mess.
Well, even more so than usual.
"So, are you going to talk to me, or just brood silently all night?" Mikey asked as Don shined a bright flashlight in his eyes.
"Day." He corrected, shining a light in Mikey's other eyes. "It is now very early in the morning. You have been gone for five hours, and you didn't even bothered to text one of us to let us know that you weren't lying dead in a ditch."
Donnie's guilt trips were the worst. His and Leo's, but mostly Don's because he's not as high strung as Leo. And if Donnie was giving a guilt trip, you better believe he had a reason to, and the receiver of said lecture deserved every bit of it.
"I'm sorry..." Mikey said, feeling honestly guilty for making his brothers worry. He didn't like stressing them out, they were always worried about enough as it was.
Being the reason for it never really sat well with him.
In his defense, he'd just taken a thrashing, and needed a while to get his head on straight again.
Sure Raph had hit him before -he did on a regular basis, actually- but that doesn't mean it hurts any less each time.
Looking at Donnie right then, Mikey hoped his face was enough to relay how he felt. He wasn't sure if he could explain himself well enough if he tried.
Don tried to keep his angry act up but, in the end, was as understanding as he always was. With an exasperated sigh he leaned his elbows on the desk, placing his head in his palms.
"Mikey." He said in a more motherly tone than anything else. "Just don't do it again okay?"
Mikey smiled reassuringly.
"Okay."
They shared a still moment of forgiveness, and they were back to normal.
"You have a small concussion but the right medication should heal that right up." Donnie said, going to the medicine cabinet while mumbling something to himself.
And everything was going fine until-
"MIKE-Y!"
Mikey jumped a foot in the air, and the two of them could almost feel the house quaking from the thundering voice of their older brother.
They stiffened at the sound of the second oldest teen of the house storming down from his room, and through the living room, to the basement.
The vents could carry voices through the house like a telephone. He probably heard the two of them talking from his room. Damn vents.
"Raph, stop it! You're not going to accomplish anything by-"
"Out'a my way, Fearless!" Shouted the hot head of the family as he pushed passed their oldest sibling and began stomping his way down the stairs.
Leo followed close behind.
"Where the hell have you been?!" Raph yelled, reaching the cold concrete floor of the lab and stalked over to their baby brother.
Mikey sat completely still as Raphael slammed his hands down on the table at either side of him, making sure he couldn't get away.
"Do you know how fucking worried we were? You could have been dead, or hurt, or kidnapped, or something and we wouldn't know! Because you decided not to answer your fucking phone for five goddamn hours!" He growled.
Mikey scurried back as far away from him as he could. He didn't mean to flinch away from him. It was instinctive, but Mikey knew it upset it made him whenever he did it.
His back pressing into the wall behind him. Raph only leaned in closer with a furious sneer.
His emerald eyes traced over the large bruise across Mikey's cheek, then flickered down. Mike's followed his gaze to see that his stupid jacket had unzipped again. He stared at the blood on Mikey's shirt and his shoulders tensed up.
Raph looked back up at him. It broke his heart to see the hurt in Raph's face, even if it came from seeing the damage he himself had caused. Mikey tried to smile as calmingly as he could.
Dark brows pinched up in a sad agitation, before Raphael dropped his head onto Mikey's shoulder. "Just text and let us know you're okay next time, alright? Don't scare us like that."
Mikey felt his body relax, and he let his head lull to rest against his short tempered big brother's. He combed his fingers through Raph's fiery red hair, petting him in that comforting way Mikey always did when it was needed most. The venting sessions when a punching bag couldn't sooth his rage like a younger brother willing to listen. The late nights when Raph would come home with injuries needing tended to, and blood on his clothes that wasn't his.
Raph wouldn't move. He stayed where he was, head nestled against Mikey's black jacket, and the younger sighed, bringing his arms up around his brother's broad shoulders.
"'M sorry, Raphie." Mikey hummed, just a little over a whisper.
He looked awful. His usually cool looking, combed back red hair was all messy and disheveled. His clothes were damp and gorse with sweat.
He probably spent those five hours in the training room dealing out some pant up fury.
Mikey took a moment to glance at the other two. Donnie most likely stayed down there and worked on stuff all night, like how he often dealt with stress. And Leo looked a little out of it, like he needed a nap from being such a mother hen. His black hair stuck out in every direction, like he'd been running his hands through it repeatedly in worry.
This was his fault. And he felt awful for it.
But the thought of jade green eyes and long dark hair; the feel of his finger tips gliding over deep green scales passed the collar of an old leather jacket. He could feel his chest pound with life and excitement.
"I'm sorry guys. I won't do it again."
That was a lie.
