Plunk... plunk... plunk...
A small stream of water dripped steadily into the puddle below. The past Michelangelo yawned, gazing up at the grate, where only a few rays of sunshine of the dying day filtered into the dark tunnel.
Plunk... plunk... plunk...
He sighed, breathing in the damp, musty air, and tapped his foot impatiently.
Plunk... plunk... plunk... CRASH!
"Augh!" he screamed from the wet floor, struggling to get up, but someone was holding him down. He squinted up through the near- darkness and froze.
That someone was him.
"What's happening?" he cried, but could say no more, as a blow to the head made him go limp.
"I've never seen you attack anyone that mercilessly," came Raphael's concerned voice from the darkness of the tunnel.
"I'm not afraid of hurting him, and besides, the job had to be done right the first time. We couldn't risk him running away and telling the others. That would change the past," the future Michelangelo responded, holding up his own unconscious form by the top of the shell.
Raph and the professor emerged from the shadows. The Fugetoid took the unconscious turtle from Mikey and supported him in a much gentler manner. "We'll put him into stasis as soon as we get back to the ship."
Raphael walked up to Mikey and enveloped him in a tight hug. "Good luck, little bro."
Michelangelo returned the embrace. "To you, too."
There was the sound of an engine roaring to a stop right above the grate.
"Pizza for... Hamato?"
The two brothers looked up, where they could see a pizza delivery boy confusedly looking around. Raph squeezed Mikey's hand.
Mikey would take that pizza, then go back to the lair and pretend that he was the past Michelangelo for the next six months...
Raphael nodded encouragingly, then let go of the only family he had left.
