The other side of the coin

Chapter 3

This is another story to One's True Instincts that takes place just before Donatello takes Raphael and during the time Raphael was Donatello's prisoner in Bishop's base.
What was going on behind the scenes? All we know what was happening to Raph, was there more going on then we all relies?
Disclaimer: TMNT isn't mine and this is just a fan fiction writing. No money is being made on this story.
(TMNT CC are AU based on 2003 version, the turtles are 25)

Warning (Rated: M) Disturbing Content, Foul Language, Gore, Major Character Death (s)


The night legged on with one horrible nightmare after another, waking up in the pitch dark again and again; he ended that quickly sleeping with the lights on.

Even then that didn't help him much, considering he was more than restless.

Giving up, Mikey sluggishly headed for the fridge finally opening it up to see what was within. His stomach was calling for food and he had to give in.

Seeing the homemade sandwich, some muffins and the fruit, Mikey went for the safest of the bunch, snapping up an apple and pop.

(Would Donatello go as far as into drugging them?) Could he bother trusting anything else in that fridge?

Food in hand, he waddled towards the bathroom and then stopping in front of the mirror hanging over the sink, finding himself observed bleakly into it.

To his astonishment, his body was unmistakably healed?

Taking a good look at himself, he couldn't find even a single scratch on him, not even his fingers showed the damage he had done to them by the concrete floor and the coffin.

How long has he been out for? How long has he been here? Feeling woozy over this, he held his breath using the sink to hold himself up.

(How long has my family been under the idea, I'm dead...)

The tragic reality hitting him like a slap on the face with a very large brick, Mikey wanted to weep.

If they laid him to rest, they have forgotten all about him and moved on. There was no one to save him... or consider looking for him, he was alone...

"I'm such a weakling... Bet Leo is thrilled he doesn't have to deal with me anymore," Mikey sobbed, dropping onto the ground as the apple escaped from his grip rolling across the floor.

Allowing the tears to rain, Mikey leaned forward, touching his forehead against the cool ground.

"What am I to do... Father... Leo, please save me..."


Staring at the floor, the bathroom had become his bed for the remainder of the night while he bawled his hardest to the point he eventually got some sleep.

The sound of the front door opening Mikey didn't budge, ignoring it all together as he continued to descend.

A dissatisfied grunt came from Donatello as he approached him, "What is it about you and Raphael, that you two always end up finding comfort in the bathroom? Is there something I'm missing?"

Not replying to him, Mikey continued to gaze into the invisible abyss.

"Have you eaten? Michelangelo are you listening to me?"

Refusing to respond still, given that he wasn't sure what to say at the moment, and he felt too disheartened, he could only do one action by holding his legs more to throw himself out of this reality.

However, that wasn't permitted under this roof, immediately Mikey let out a screech of dismay as Donatello clutched his arm hastily, wrenching him to get to his feet.

Mikey tossed all his dead weight against the brother's effort, it succeeded as the young turtle dangle there only now on his knees.

"Listen, you are not going to start acting like some child, now grow up!" Donatello ordered, seeing Mikey roll his eyes at him.

"Dude, what do you want, huh? Going to tell me that if I don't do what you want, you will discipline me by zapping me?" Mikey gruffly inquired, not giving a damn over what Donatello would do to him.

It didn't help when you feel like everyone you love and care about doesn't know you exist anymore and the one individual that does, is Jason minus the Casey Jones's mask.

"You know what? That is a fabulous idea, Michelangelo. If you don't begin behaving by eating for starters and don't cease these pity trips, I will have to punish you. Now get up and come with me," Donatello barked angrily, tightly gripping the handle of the bag that he had in his hand, dropping it off in front of the bed. Then he swung open the front door to display to Mikey what he meant by follow, that was going to be an outing outside the room.

Scrambling to his feet, Mikey rapidly backed away, shaking his head, "No thanks dude. I will stay here..."

"That isn't a choice anymore Michelangelo and now that I think about it, the way I need to treat you is by putting you to work, now come!" Donatello snarled, moving forward to snatch Mikey to force him to go outside, only to have the young turtle slip through his fingers.

(Nope, not going to happen.)

Dodging every attempt of Donatello getting a hold of him, he was demonstrating that he wasn't so easy to catch, even in a small tight room as this bathroom.

The irritable turtle that was losing his cool, pounced towards Mikey, who used the wall as leverage, playing leap the shell over Donatello. Once cleared, he exited the bathroom and shut the door behind him, while hearing Donatello roaring in frustration. "MIKEY! GET BACK HERE YOU LITTLE SHIT."

Back in his room, Mikey shutter seeing the outside and its horrors, slamming that door too, then he desperately appeared around for something to use in his defense.

He needed to figure out a way to fight back that his leash in his head didn't take as a direct attack upon Donatello and resulting in punishing him.

Snatching up the pad of paper and a pen, Mikey held his breath.

(Could I annoy him enough for him to just give up and leave me alone?)

The bathroom door sharply whipping open, Donatello stomped out in a frenzy, narrowing his death gaze upon Mikey.

Before Donatello could say a word or lash out his wrath with his sharp tongue, Mikey started his assault, throwing crumbled up balls of paper at his head, grateful that the chip wasn't going off.

A direct hit, one hit Donatello on the beak, as he grumbled annoyingly, "Really?"

"Dude, what else am I to do?" Mikey asked, continuing ripping pages out of the book and chucking at him.

Donatello with his ill temper, batted the flying projectiles that kept coming for his face, approaching Mikey slowly, like some Tonberry minus the knife and lantern. At least Donatello was green so some of that mental image was correct, including the rising fear of him getting closer for the instant one-shot death.

(Oh, this is just the beginning dude!)

Holding the pen with an iron grip, Mikey played out his other part of his attack plan, rushing forward, as Donatello gave him the 'Your not a fast learner' expression on his face, only to scream feeling something cold and sticky splash over his green skin.

With a fizz, the pop can that was in the bathroom from the night before was now in the middle of the room from all the commotion, punctured by the pen, going crazy on the ground getting Donatello.

Then another came after that as Donatello caught on that Mikey distracted him with that one can, grabbing the other six he had in the bag for him, letting them go off, but not before shaking them up.

Seeing Donatello coated in pop with the 'I'm now going to kill you' look, Mikey escaped into the bathroom once more, locking the door behind him.

Not even a second later, Donatello's fists were against the door, shrieking at him in a murderous tone, "Michelangelo open this damn door! Or else!"

"Or what?" Mikey charmed, then regretted it soon after feeling his head was about to explode.

Screaming, he fell upon the ground. So it didn't just go off when he tries to harm Donatello or leave, but was on commend too!

(AAAHHHH! How am I to beat that?)

The spasms intensifying, Mikey rolled across the ground yelling towards Donatello, "Make it stop please! Make it stop!"

His voice like ice and reminding Mikey, he wasn't someone he should mess with; he called through the door, "Once you apologize for your behavior and agree to open this door."

Falling in defeat, Mikey nodded to himself, "Fine dude. I'm sorry! I will open the door!"

"Good. You're forgiven," Donatello churred, stopping the zapping session, but not before sending shivers down Mikey's spine.

Taking a moment to collect himself, Mikey slowly rose to his feet, reluctantly opening the door to have Donatello's hand reaching out to him, taking a hold of his arm and dragging him along.

"Now let's go! No complaints Michelangelo and once we are done, you will clean this mess you made. You hear me," Donatello commended, opening the outside door, forcing Mikey to take the plunge into this hellish scene.

"Whatever you say, dude," Mikey weakly agreed, closing his eyes, letting Donatello to lead him. This made it easier to block out the foul stench.


Even though his eyes were closed, Mikey still could feel the death surrounding him with its sticky pungent odor invading his sensitive nostrils.

How could Donatello causally stroll through this without a concern?

(Where is he bringing me? What did he mean, put me to work? He isn't suspecting me to slaughter people is he?)

Shrouded in his thoughts, Mikey didn't notice that Donatello had made a full stop, whacking his beak hard into the turtle's shell, letting out a yelp of surprise and a moan to follow after.

Hearing the underline of annoyance, which Mikey hated as much as his so-called smile, Mikey refused to open his eyes, knowing all too well the older turtle was judging him with those eyes.

"Michelangelo, not much will be done if you keep acting like some scaredy cat. Now open your eyes already. To think all the years of horror movie after another, that should have prepared you for this," Donatello mocked in amusement, making fun of how many horror flicks Mikey had watched, even when he wasn't allowed to.

Responding the usual way, Mikey shook his head forcefully, "No thanks dude."

The sounds of grinding teeth, Mikey could tell Donatello was losing what little patience he had for the little brother.

Heck, what did Donatello suspected? He was just being him, stubborn and with a spice of child innocence.

No one in his family could achieve such an act, and he was proud of it. He didn't care this guy wasn't like his brother he remembered; he wasn't going to clean up his act for him or anyone at that!

He was who he was, Mikey charm and all.

"Fine you stand there and when you finally get the nerve to open your eyes, I want you to dispose of everything on these two slabs. Don't bother attempting to flee to your room for the chip will go off if you leave this room. Do I make myself clear? I will be back in a couple of hours and expect it to be all done, or you will suffer a worse fate than this!" Donatello snarled, slapping Mikey on the shoulder.

Still not giving in, Mikey stood there listening to the footsteps that vanish into the distance, as part of him started to relax.

(So... do I dare?)

He held his breath, ignoring the smell of death that was still nearby, probably seeping from the other room of hanging human jewelry for Donatello's disturbing sense of decoration.

His body as he could tell, was now trembling and his hands were twitching to the point he had to grab them both, pressing them together to regain control of them.

All his senses were going on overdrive, telling him to run, to hide and to cry in the corner even.

What was so horrific that he felt this deep dread that clawed at his very soul?

Mustering the courage, he understood that this Donatello wasn't going to let him go off easily as he had once done many times in the past.

If he expressed he was going to punish him worse than what he was in stored for at the moment, he shouldn't mess with that one.

Opening his eyes only a crack, letting the warm light to enter, Mikey scolded himself for over exaggerating this.

(Donatello wouldn't be too cruel to me...)

Allowing his eyelids to open fully, Mikey stepped back in horror as he lost control of his gag reflects, spilling his guts onto the ground.

There, piled up on two wooden crates were body's wrapped up in so-called white sheets stained by the blood they soaked up.

The gummy crimson liquid spilled over the floor, which ooze off the deceased, and beyond them was this large furnace.

(He wants me to burn his victim's bodies! I'm going to be sick...)

Mikey's body becoming weak and he could hardly support his weight; he searched for something to hold on to.

The wall not his first choice was the only thing available without venturing into the room more. Once his hand was stable, and he ignored how it felt under his skin, he then heaved over, staring at the old stained floors finding himself starting to hyperventilate.

Donatello was not just a psychopath, but a mass murderer. How many bodies were there? Five, six or was it ten?

(Ten innocent people cut down by my brother's hand... This is just wrong!)

Mikey unable to hold it together, cried to himself holding his side for some source of comfort and warmth.

However, that comfort never came only the reality that he truly saw in his situation.

Closing his eyes again, Mikey focused on his breathing, pushing away this disturbing and unnatural place out of his mind's eye.

(I'm in my room playing my favorite game; I have my large slushy on my side. The co-op game is going great, even the player that I'm playing with, is cheering since I was victorious. There is a box of pokes, and I'm surrounded by my favorite things...)


The serenity finally settling in, Mikey's mind was elsewhere, a place far way from there, and he couldn't be any happier.

That was till he was snapped out of his meditation with a sharp slap on the back of the head, making him slam it down against the ground hard as he could hear the angry voice behind him barking like a wild animal.

"I told you Michelangelo to have this done, by the time I get back. What the hell have you been doing all this time?!" Donatello demanded an explanation.

Taking a steady breath, Mikey wince at the pain that started to burn where he kissed the ground, "Meditating dude. You should take a gander; it might help the madness issue you have!"

Growling in frustration and disappointment, Donatello reefed at Mikey's shell tossing him into the nearby wall.

With a thud, Mikey moaned as his body wasn't pleased with that at all.

"Do you think this is some game Michelangelo? What part of, 'you will suffer worse' not obeying my simple order, don't you understand?!" Donatello slammed his foot into Mikey's plastron hard then went forward, taking the edge of Mikey's shell to pin him against the wall for the kid brother could see him eye to eye.

"How about all of it, for if you are Donatello, then you wouldn't do this to me," Mikey stated, seeing the burning fire in Donatello's eyes that made him fearful, yet he tried his hardest to hide it.

"That is it Michelangelo! I was going to go easy on you, but you pushed me to the breaking point!" Donatello spat, getting up, walking towards the door, grabbing something out of the bag then tossing it in front of Mikey.

The object rolled as it hit the ground, splattered new fresh blood onto the grey tiles.

It kept rolling towards him, stopping inches away from him.

Disturbed and frozen in pure fear, Mikey's eyes widen in disbelief, staring at those open dead eyes of... Casey!

(No, that can't be Casey! That head can't be CASEY!)

Snagged in the terror, Mikey scrambled to his feet slamming his shell into the mold infested wall, hopelessly looking for a way out, that unfortunately would mean going through Donatello for there was only one exit.

"He was a threat, so I dispose of him. He would never kneel down to me or surrender. As a gesturing request from Raphael, I gave him a swift death compared to my other prey," Donatello informed him comely, with a hint of boastfulness in his voice.

Mortified that Donatello would take any pride in this, Mikey gawked at him, seeing a demon then some turtle standing there, "You what! Why! He was a friend Donatello! What do you mean Raph requested?! Raph would never want his best friend to die!"

A grin flashing across his face over the spewing questions from the little brother, which showed how he started to see this wasn't some happy story, but a horror flick, and he was a main character; Donatello leaned forward, placing his hands in his pockets, tilting his head to the side, "Now do you see the reality of this Michelangelo? It's the beginning. And for your information," Donatello paused to have the turtle hang there to wait for the rest of what he was going to say.

The suspense built up nicely, he continued, "Raphael picked Casey Jones to die, not me."

(NO!)

"Bullshit man! Raphie wouldn't; he wouldn't, you're lying to me!" Mikey shouted at the mad hatter.

Shaking his head, Donatello churred in satisfaction, he was now the one in control and Mikey was under his thumb, "Oh, he did after I told him to pick Casey Jones or April O'Neil. He chose Casey Jones in a heartbeat, with some persuasion of course. I had to put Leonardo onto the table to get him to spit out the one he wanted to die over the other."

His stomach turning once again, Mikey blinked wildly in with a mix of feelings that was mainly an overwhelming sense of fear.

He was lost; he had no clue what to do or say.

Like some frightened animal, Mikey just started looking everywhere all at once like he was in some metal cage, with a bunch of kids surrounding him, poking him with sticks as he couldn't get them to stop hurting him.

Allowing the brother to process this, Donatello leisurely went up to him, snapping the frantic turtle by placing his hand on his shoulder, which made the young brother shiver immediately.

"I had no choice Michelangelo; it had to be. Bishop has been waiting for me to take down someone of importance to Raphael, in order to break him. Casey Jones would be a problem anyways down the road. But be happy."

"HAPPY!" Mikey snapped at him, slapping his hand way from his shoulder. "How can I be happy you actually assassinated one of our friends? It's one thing to pretend to kill me, but another to actually cut Casey's head off!"

"April is still alive," Donatello pointed out, watching Mikey fall silent. "Michelangelo she is still alive for now... How about this… You do the job I have given you and including getting rid of Casey's body, and I will reward you. However, if you don't do it, I will kill her. Seems fair?"

His lip trembled as he saw no way around it, falling to a whisper, Mikey replied, "Sure dude..."

"What was that Mikey?" Donatello pried, putting his hand over his ear, seeing Mikey narrow his eyes at him in hatred.

"I will do it, dude!" Mikey growled.

"Do. What?" Donatello continued to mock him, smearing this in his face and having fun while doing so.

"I will clean up your mess."

"You will clean my mess..." Donatello waved his hand, giving Mikey a smile.

Rolling his eyes, Mikey took a breath holding the impulse in punching this jerk, "I will burn all the bodies for you Bro. Good enough?"

"Bro works; it's like how you use to address me before. I miss being called that by you." Donatello admitted happily, as he headed toward the door, dragging in the rest of the bag that Mikey assumed must be Casey's body.

"Remember what I have said Michelangelo," Donatello warned more than just some reminder.

Once the butcher was out of his sights, Mikey instantly held his sides, letting the tears fall from his eyes, "I'm sorry Casey..."

Sniffling Mikey must have been crying for a good twenty minutes, but he had to remind himself he had a job to do. If he wished April to continue to live he had to do what Donatello tasked him.

Wanting to start with Casey first, Mikey gently picked up his head, closing the poor guy's eyes as he brought it towards the furnace.

Opening the door the flames reached for him, making this more twisted than anything.

(I have to put him into the fire, or he will start rotting and I don't want to see that...)

Placing the head in the fire and having some flames licking his hand, Mikey tolerated it, he couldn't just toss it.

This was a friend, and he deserved some dignity.

Unable to watch the flames consume the head, Mikey held his stomach wanting no more, only to get this done quickly.

Lifting Casey's body next, Mikey was unable to give it the same treatment as its head, since it meant he would have to stand there longer than he wanted to.

On each body, he tossed them in, making him grateful that the furnace was huge, so he can throw all the bodies at once.

One by one, Mikey cast every dead body into the flames, feeling his skin growing hotter by the continuous exposure to the intense heat.

The sweat rolled down his brow that distracted him on the last body, he missed the door. It slipped out of his hands, slumping to the ground, making a nasty gushing sound as it did.

Control of his gag reflects now lost, that has behaved until now; Mikey gagged, gasping for air.

His body shaking and dry heaving, Mikey snatched up the bundle body, shoving it through the door and shutting it quickly once he was done.

Dropping to the ground, he held his chest feeling a part of him had gone up into flames as the rest.

The sounds of clapping suddenly echoed off the walls, as Mikey flashed a look towards it, seeing Donatello standing there applauding him for a job well done, "Very good Michelangelo, now lets go back to your room. I want you to clean up."

"Yeah, sure..." Mikey stood up, more than merry to leave this room behind; he wasn't sure if he would lose what little sanity he had left if he dared to stay.


The walk back to the room, Mikey only glared at the floor not bothering to map this place out in his head.

Like he really wanted to know where that burning room, he left behind was; he wanted to avoid it if he could.

Finally coming up to his door, Mikey couldn't be happier to be sent back to that cage, it was better than out here and its illusion satisfied him.

Donatello opening up the door, Mikey rushed in heading to the bathroom, ignoring the brutal image of his body that was covered with blood and who knows what else that rubbed against it.

He wanted a shower to get it off of him, so he could play in the delusion everything was grand.

It was the thing that is keeping his mind from falling apart at the moment.

Denial was a very powerful tool indeed. To think a while ago he achieved a meditative state in the likes he never accomplished without the guidance from his father.

It only took this rocky horror picture, well, minus the leather and comical music debut and... No, it wasn't anything like that movie. This was Friday 13th, Chainsaw massacre and Psycho all bundle up in one.

Next Donatello will creep up on him when he is in the shower holding a knife...

Shaking that thought to the side, Mikey turned on the water, leaping in regardless it was still cold, bearing the icy touch without a concern.

It started to cleanse his soul, washing away the filth as he scrubbed his body vigorously to make sure nothing was left behind.

Allowing himself to drift homeward, the showers at home, Mikey didn't hear the turtle approaching him opening the shower curtain suddenly, making Mikey shriek is lungs out of air, as Donatello only rolled his eyes over the exaggeration.

"Michelangelo stop acting like your naked and put your hands down. I'm not going to hurt you," Donatello pointed out showing he was holding a fresh towel, which Mikey did suddenly come to the notion he didn't have towels the other day.

"Um..." Mikey responded letting his body to ease up, still a bit hesitant to fully relax.

Figuring that was the best he would get, Donatello set the towel on the side, placing his focus on Mikey once again, "Once you're done, I have some clothes for you in a dresser, I have just put into your room. Pick something you like to wear."

"Why am I dressing up?" Mikey asked curiously, why should he be all dolled up in this butcher shop of horrors?

"For it's presentable for starters, and you will be having a guest soon, now hurry up," Donatello only explained, leaving Mikey staring at him in wonder.

(Guest?)


TBC