A/N: Here's the second chapter of Contact, a TMNT and Ben10 crossover.
Disclaimer: I am not the creator(s) of Ben 10 nor did I create the TMNT multiverse. I make no profit from this. It is merely for fun, so please do not sue. Meow.
Merrowww…
Contact
Concern
Stupid sun. The raven haired hybrid inwardly groaned. Half awake he pressed one of the light gray pillows a bit harder over his eyes trying to ignore the beginnings of a headache. He was failing miserably; the throbbing in his skull increased and, oddly, seemed to echo in his lower back. The sunlight pouring through the partially open blinds wasn't helping. Kevin could literally feel the photons dancing across the exposed skin of his powerful body in little rows. Unable to get back to sleep, he sat up and began to rub his temples and lower back in a vain attempt to try and relieve the building pressure.
Since his usual outfit had been ruined from his… recent transformation, he got some of the new clothes that he and his mother had bought when he had ended up as a mixed media freak awhile ago to put on after he got out of the shower. With the migraine he was having he just grabbed a black muscle shirt and gray cargo pants. After shedding the tattered remains of his jeans and briefs he turned the water on as hot as possible and stepped in. The young Osmosian stayed under the curtain of water, enjoying the heat till the water ran cold.
Kevin was feeling a little better; the steaming water had soothed his muscles and his migraine had lessened some. He quickly dried and dressed and headed to the sink for a quick comb. He really needed it since he hadn't done any sort of maintenance to his raven locks in the past few weeks. While looking for his comb he caught a glimpse of his face out the corner of his eye—and froze.
Levin turned his head and faced the mirror over the sink directly.
No. the ex-con stared at his reflection. The eyes in the mirror were ringed in black, the color was much fainter than the ones from his childhood, but it still meant the same thing. Those markings were the tale-tell signs of an Osmosian that's absorbed energy recently. But, when had he…? Kevin stiffened as the answer came to him, the shower! How long had he enjoyed that hot water… or for that matter how long had he been lying in bed, not quite awake with sunlight dancing on his skin? The pressure was starting to build up again in his head and spine.
"Oh fuck me!" he snarled.
Merrowww…
The sounds of traffic rose from the streets, filling alleyways and sliding up walls into the night sky. Across the rooftops a figure patrolled, searching his territory for them. The ones who hurt him… who broke his family… who ruined his career…who pissed him off! The beast saw in shades of red; criminals: crooks, hoods, robbers, drug dealers, murders, rapists, even purse snatchers, they would pay. He would make ALL of them pay!
He stopped near the top of a fire escape. In the alley below a mugging was beginning to take place. From the tattoos he could spot on two of the muggers the vigilante easily identified them as some of his favorite prey—Purple Dragons. A feral grin spread across his face hidden by the fixed white snarl of his mask, as he crept down closer to the action one of the crooks asked the woman for her purse as his friends cut off any means of escape. Then they started closing in.
"GOONGALA!" he roared, leaping from the balcony directly above the muggers and their would-be victim. The last thing the gangbanger saw was a bone faced demon dropping from the sky as 225+ pounds of muscle and sports equipment drove a softball bat into his skull with a very satisfying CRUNCH. The other two stood frozen for a few seconds, giving him time to return the lady's bag and take out his hockey stick. The woman ran as the other two hoods rushed the beast. He wasn't in the mood to play with his victims tonight; there was no witty banter nor any bad sports puns as he rode the rush of anger and adrenalin. The thrill the fight was intoxicating. His hockey stick disarmed them and tripped them and he used his bat to pummel them. Bones cracked, skin bruised, and organs ruptured as the metal instrument continued to swing.
Eventually the demon stopped, breathing heavily, his fury having ebbed and the bodies having long ceased twitching. …um what, bodies? Oh… shit! Oh, shit! Oh Shit! I didn't mean to—
"Casey?" The vigilante turned and was surprised at what he saw. Underneath his hockey mask his face flushed red with shame. His fiancé stood in front of him clutching his daughter close to her chest, both of them pale with fear. Wait? ...what were they doing here? And when did they show up? Surrounding them were the turtles, whose faces showed varying degrees of shock and disgust.
"What?" he asked slightly confused at their expressions.
"Wadda ya mean 'what?' look at 'cha! You look like you just stepped outta horror flick." Raphael pointed out. The red bandana wearing turtle's glared at him with a look of utter disgust and quite a bit of hatred. The vigilante looked down; his clothes and gear were splattered crimson and gore stuck to his bat. His eyes widened at the realization.
"Shit! I—I didn't mean to—I—I think I lost it for a bit." He tried to explain, know that it didn't excuse his rage fueled crimes.
"I—I'm sorry Casey b—but I can't marry you. You could—could do that to us too." The redhead stammered clutching his little girl closer as she backed away from him.
"But Ape I would never-" He began, taking a step forward.
"You'd never what Jones?" Donatello asked placing himself between them and removing his bo staff from its harness.
"I'd never hurt them." The vigilante quietly replied, barley noticing that he was being surrounded by the brothers.
"How can we trust you, dude? You obviously couldn't rein in that temper like you promised Raph." Michelangelo pointed out, gesturing towards the three ex-Dragons. The turtle took out his nunchuto while Raph did the same with his sai.
"Sorry it had to come to this," Leonardo said as he drew his katana. "But we can't let a mad dog like you roam around hurting people. You're a friend, so we'll make it quick as possible."
"Wait…!" Behind the glaring mask blue eyes widened as the turtles charged…
…
Casey Jones shot up it bed, panting and drenched in sweat. He let out a sigh of relief that that had only been some deranged nightmare. He looked over to the other side of the king sized bed that he shared with his fiancé—only to remember that she wasn't there.
The past few weeks had been so stressful; he had been in a foul mood ever since his aunt had told him what had happened to his little cousin and April had caught onto it and kept bugging him to talk about it. Since his little cousin had virtually sworn the hotheaded vigilante in to secrecy the first time he ever spoke about what was eating him he couldn't tell his future wife anything without breaking that fragile bond of trust. That had led to several fights over the last week with his temper growing with each one. Then what control he had gained over his temper had started to break; the other night during patrol he had stopped a mugging but had continued to thrash the punks even after they had surrendered. Raph and Mikey had to pull him off of them before he did something permanent; in a blind rage he had lashed out at them as well, the mutant turtles had to hold him down till he could think straight. When he had gotten back to the apartment he and April shared, she had confronted him about it and he lost it for a sec—he didn't hurt her, he would never hurt either of his girls, but the wall next to her had taken some damage.
Since then Ape had taken Shadow with her and they had been staying over with the turtles; April helping out with retrieving Splinter's data bits and Mikey babysitting Shadow. She was giving him time to cool off before they came back home. Everyone else was also encouraging him to take a break from vigilante action for a little while (translation: get a hold of yourself before you kill somebody.) and he was sure that Leo and Raph were occasionally checking in on him every now and again ninja style.
Flopping back down on the bed, the brunette sighed. He definitely had to apologize before he left.
Damn.
He hated apologizing.
Merrowww…
"Kevin, sweetie are you ok?" his mother asked from the other side of his bedroom door. After his discovery in the bathroom he had returned to room and locked the door. His mother had probably heard his curse or the porcelain of the sink crack under his grip or his knocking several things to the floor in his room in his panic and fury.
"Yea mom, I'm fine." The young Osmosian weakly replied. The truth was anything but. He sat in the middle of his bed curled into the fetal position, calloused fingers griping his bare muscular arms so tightly that they were leaving white marks. His emotions were a maelstrom of anger, fear, and self-loathing. Memories of the past few weeks came back to him and his feelings could no longer be suppressed.
The raven haired woman was not convinced. She put her ear to the door and listened; she could faintly hear him sobbing. Her heart ached for him; using a pin and one of her old IDs she opened the door. Her son sat in the dark, blinds shut and curtains closed, the room looking like it had gotten another good thrashing. She climbed on his bed and tried to comfort him.
For a few minutes they stayed that way. His mother hugging him, rubbing his powerful back while crooning softly in English and Osmosian. His sobs stopped and his grip slackened.
"Better?" she asked, moving in front of him. Kevin nodded weakly keeping his face buried in his brawny arms. The woman raised a dark eyebrow at him.
"Kevin?" He kept his head down, knowing she would be ashamed of him.
"Kevin Ethan Levin…" she began sternly. He groaned and tilted his head up. The raven haired teen flinched at her sharp inhalation and his eyes darted away from hers.
"Look at me." She commanded and slowly his obsidian eyes locked with hers. Mrs. Levin knew all to well what the dark markings around his eyes meant. The rings weren't anywhere near as dark as they had been in his childhood, more of a faint brown than jet black. His eyes were clear not glazed over, so whatever he had absorbed it hadn't been very much or very potent. She breathed a sigh of relief. This confused the hybrid.
"Aren't you mad at me?"
"Did you do it on purpose?" She asked, raising an eyebrow.
"No, but I sti—"
"If it was an accident there's no need to beat yourself up about it, just don't do it again," She interrupted, hugging him tightly. "But I am worried about you, ok? Now come on and get some breakfast, I know you haven't been eating properly." She stood up and he uncurled himself. The scents of the kitchen wafted into his room and his stomach growled loudly.
"Well that settles it." She smiled, dragging him out of the room. He couldn't help smiling a little back at her.
Merrowww…
"….Why can't you just tell me?" The redhead asked, getting angry over her fiancé's recent mood swings and evasiveness with everyone.
"I just can't April!" Jones nearly shouted back. He turned to leave the bedroom, hands clenching and unclenching at his sides and nostrils flared. Part of her knew that she should have let him go cool off, but another part that was curious and frustrated and angry wouldn't give up.
The redhead grabbed the brunette's shoulder…
… She was pressed into the hall wall, green eyes wide. Her anger drained away and was quickly replaced by fear; the much larger man's hands slammed into the wall on either side of her, she flinched a bit when she heard drywall crack under his palms. He leaned over and looked her in the eye. The vigilante's expression was dark; his body trembled with barely contained rage, and his blue eyes were as cold as an arctic glacier.
"Casey?" she asked quietly, deep down in the primal monkey-part of her brain something told her that stopping him was a very, very bad idea.
"Grrrrrrrrr…." He growled in response, his icy gaze narrowed. The hairs on the back of April's neck stood on end and she had the impression of being stared at by a feral beast.
"Casey?" she repeated again in a soft voice. This time he blinked and expression softened slightly, his brow furrowed a bit in confusion as if he just woke from a trance. Jones dropped his eyes looking ashamed (O'Neil absently wondered how the brunette got through life in New York wearing his heart on his sleeve) and he turned away.
"Ape… I can't. I—I promised someone that I'd keep his secrets… an' if I told 'em he'd never trust me again. I gave my word an' if I break that I'm no better than half the scum in this city…
"April?" the redhead snapped out of her thoughts and turned back to the monitors that she was supposed to be watching.
"Sorry Don, I was daydreaming a little." She apologized as she looked over the cybernaut's stats. Together they had made a good amount of progress in capturing Splinter's data bits; they might just be able to bring the old rat back a few days before the wedding. While they worked Donatello's younger orange bandana wearing brother and Serling babysat Shadow, with the robot taking her place occasionally so she could care for the three year old. "You want to stop for now and take a break?"
"Sure." The purple clad turtle answered, a few seconds later he was transported back into the physical world. The fair skinned human got up from the terminal and stretched.
"Let's go see how the kids are holding up."
…
Fresh out of the shower, Casey Jones dried his tanned well built body with an old mahogany towel. The 24-year-old finger combed his shoulder length black locks as they air dried. Trying to look halfway presentable for later he dressed in a pair of faded black jeans with a rust colored button up that he left untucked. Jones slipped on a pair of not to worn deep green sneakers before he took his bags to his garage. There he loaded them into the trunk attachment for his bike. Back in his and April's shared apartment he grabbed a black trench coat that Angel got him after his last one had kicked the bucket (she said this one made him look a lot more terrifying) and locked the place up.
It took him less than two minutes and at least 14 moving violations to get to the turtle's warehouse. Casey made sure to take a few twists and turns down the city's many alleys to lose anyone who might have tried to follow him.
Jones pulled up to the door and pulled the cover up on a small box on the wall next to it. He removed a cut off biker glove and placed his bare calloused hand on the reveled scanner. The machine made a 'PING' sound as it recognized him and unlocked the door. He leaned over and raised the sliding door. He parked his motorcycle next to Raphael's Shell-Cycle and left his trench coat on it. Casey strolled over to the middle of the room, crouching he pressed a rectangular tile with strange symbols on it, then he stood up and waited for the elevator. This came very quickly out of the floor behind the odd tile. He entered the dome shaped structure and rode it down to the lair, suddenly having the idea that he probably should have brought some flowers or something for Ape. Groaning he slapped his forehead with his palm for being such an idiot.
…
Within the lair a little blond girl, a little more than a toddler, looked up from her toys as she heard a strange noise. She looked up at the giant grey robot watching over her.
"Misser Serlin, somebody's atta door." She said. The large automaton's optical sensors swiveled over to the large symbol door a yard or two away from them.
"Indeed there is young mistress." He replied, blue and yellow 'eyes' narrowing, as he prepared to move Shadow. The two turtles on the other side of the room with Mistress O'Neil readied their weapons as the door slid open.
Shadow on the other hand had different ideas.
As soon as she identified the tall dark shape behind the elevator door she toddle-ran away from the machine's clutches towards the elevator as fast as her little feet could take her. Hands stretched up she shouted:
"Daddy!"
"There's my little troublemaker!" he answered, swiftly picking the three year old up so that she could hug his neck, while he entered the room.
"Casey?—You scared us half to death—Oh, Master Jones.—What are you wearing dude?" exclaimed/asked the other occupants in the room. They actually made so much noise that the other two brothers interrupted their sparring secession to see what was happening.
"Hey guys." He said, smiling sheepishly as he maneuvered his daughter so that he could have one hand free as she played with his hair.
"Sup, Case. You look cheerful this mornin'." The red bandannaed turtle greeted his friend in his Brooklyn accent, though the much taller human was pretty sure the mutant had never been there in his entire life. Everyone else also noticed how happy the vigilante seemed after almost a month of gloom, worry, and irritation that had seemed to ooze from him.
"Oh, right…um," Jones started, looking away out of shame. "Sorry about actin' like such an ass the past few weeks." He apologized, earning a few frowns at his phrasing. Meanwhile, Shadow giggled a bit at his words. His free hand nervously rubbed the back of his neck; these sorts of things were not his strong suit.
"Don't worry about it, Casey; everybody tends to get a little antsy worrying about family." The purple clad genius reassured him. The elder Jones's head snapped around as he gaped a bit at the second oldest turtle.
"I did a little investigating and developed a few conclusions from what I was able to dig up." The mutant shrugged.
"I also wanted to let everybody know that I was going away for the weekend to… visit family." He told them as the bo wielding turtle nodded as if the vigilante had confirmed something he had been thinking. Casey handed over his little girl to her favorite uncle, and then he gestured to his fiancé to go to the lab with him.
They needed to talk, alone.
Merrowww…
A/N: For the purposes in the story Casey is seven years older than Kevin, and eight years older than the turtles, Ben, and Gwen. And yes, both Casey and Kevin have issues, lots of issues.
