Author's note:
Hey guys! I just want to say thank you for the support and kind words you've given in response to the story thus far. I should be updated weekly on Mondays until I run out of prewritten content.
Big thanks to crystaltonics, alexandriajames96, bell-13-tmnt-lover, chichi, and mindy1981 for the reviews and thank you to all that have Favorited and followed the story.
Your kind words definitely drive me to continue :)
Game Changer
Chapter 3
"What the fuck was that about?!" Raphael was pissed. He grabbed his youngest brother by the shoulders and slammed him against the air conditioning unit atop the roof they vanished to.
"I-I don't know, bro!" Michelangelo was frightened by his brother's outburst, all color draining from his face, leaving him a pale, almost sickly green. "I don't know what happened!"
"Raph, get off him!" Leonardo commanded, trying to wedge himself between his largest and smallest brothers. Raph snarled at the oldest brother and glared down at Mikey.
"He said he doesn't know, so let him go!" Donatello chimed in, effectively pulling Raph off Mikey and staring with a confused expression.
"She fuckin' knew his name." Raph began to pace angrily, his brothers watching. "Not jus' 'Mikey' but full fledged 'Michelangelo.' Can someone explain this shit t'me?" He faced the three expectantly, fists balled at his sides.
"You're sure you heard her right?" Donnie questioned, checking his gear before pulling his goggles down. "She could have actually said 'Michael' and thanked the Archangel, you know."
"I know what I heard, Donnie!" The hothead growled out, causing the brainy brother to withdraw slightly.
"Look, the best we can do is bring it up to Sensei and see what he says." Leo took a deep breath and sat on top of some of the duct work that led from the rooftop AC unit into the building. "We should possibly watch her."
"I'll do it!" Mikey volunteered with a wide grin, earning another glare from Raphael and blank stares from Donatello and Leonardo. He shrunk back a little before averting his gaze.
"Don't ya think you've done enough damage, Mikey?" Raph spat out. Leo shot him a hard gaze.
"I think it's a good idea." Donnie stated, lifting his goggles again. "If she does know about Mikey, who's to say she knows about us?"
"You've got a point." Leo agreed with a nod. Raph snorted and rolled his eyes.
"I can't fuckin' believe you guys." He threw his arms into the air and moved to the edge of the building.
"Where are you going?" Leo stood quickly, making his way toward Raph.
"April's." He stated flatly. Turning around, he practically got nose to nose with his older brother. "Or you gonna stop me?" They stared one another down for a moment before he spoke again. "That's what I thought." He gave a shove to his brother and leaped down the side of the building to land on a fire escape not far below. Leo sighed and shook his head.
"We, uh, should probably get back to the lair..." Donnie suggested, taking a glimpse at his watch. "Sensei might start to worry."
"Mikey." Leo's voice pulled the youngest to attention. "I want you to follow her. Find out where she lives and keep an eye on her."
"Aye-Aye, Captain!" Mikey responded with a salute. "Now?"
"Now." They nodded to one another and the orange banded brother grinned wide before bounding off in the direction the woman had been going.
"Are you sure this is a wise idea?" Donnie raised a brow ridge, unsure of the whole situation.
"I'm not sure." Leo admitted. "But we need to know if she's a threat or not." His remaining brother nodded. "We should get home." Another nod and they were off the rooftop heading for the nearest sewer opening.
Michelangelo bounded through the darkness, careful to keep away from the eyes of the civilians that wandered about. The woman walked quickly back to a tall apartment building by the name of Rosewood on the corner of 17th and Brookline; not far from where they'd run into her. She was visibly shaken by the attack and kept rubbing her head and fidgeting.
Once she was in the building, Mikey thought that would be the end of his chase. Fortunately for him, he spotted her through semi-closed curtains on the southeast corner of the building. She was nervous, checking the lock on her door and traveling back and forth from her kitchen to the upstairs level of her loft. Mikey got closer to the window, perching on her balcony hidden in the darkness.
He watched her like this for days, always reporting nothing new to his brothers and never telling them exactly where she was.
In the time he'd spent watching her he learned of her varied taste in music, her tendency to rage at video games, and that she sang when she cooked. Though he couldn't always see her, he discovered she hated wearing socks, cursing them every time she'd return home from a trip to the book store or the market. She also had what looked to be a green stuffed animal, he wasn't sure of exactly what it was since he never had a clear line of sight, but he'd learned that she called it by his name.
Tonight, he wasn't at her window. There was a heist going on at a convenience store about four miles away. The Purple Dragons were expanding their territory, riling up everyone in the immediate neighborhoods. The four brothers had been following them for the past week, picking up on their patterns and their habitual small crimes.
Tonight, there were more Purple Dragons than the brothers had anticipated.
Thunderstorms had rolled in and out of the city, dumping heavy rains and filling the sky with light and sound. Another was on its way, filling the air with moisture, building power during the day and ready to unleash its wrath on the bustling city below.
Abby opened the glass doors that led to her small balcony, allowing the cool air and smell of impending rainfall to fill her home. The power had failed once or twice during the last few nights of storms, causing Abby to scatter candles and a few flashlights throughout the loft. The soft piano tones of Yiruma flowed around her as her bare feet padded against the concrete floor and into her kitchen, her new tea kettle crying for her attention on the stove. Turning off the heat, she poured the boiling water over a tea bag into a mug and mixed in two packets of sugar. It was times like these that her solitude brought a smile to her face. Although she was happy to be on her own, she still found herself missing the companionship of having a roommate or even friends nearby. She'd tried calling Sam and Emily in her time there, but as soon as they'd answer the call would be filled with interference and static, making it difficult to have any form of a conversation. Texting didn't even seem to work. At first, she'd thought it was just her phone having issues, but once she replaced it she noticed there was no difference. She ended up blaming it on the strange weather patterns.
Lightning flashed outside, thunder quick on its heels. Droplets of rain began to fall, marking her balcony and the floor near the open doors. Abby slid across the room and closed the doors, but left the floor length curtains open to enjoy the light show. As she crossed the living room, there was a crash from the roof.
Ms. Jerald's chairs really need to be anchored down.
She shook her head and crossed back to the spiral staircase. As her foot touched the third step, the power dropped. Abby tensed up and stepped back to the main floor, heading to the end table at the corners of her couch and love seat to grab the flashlight she left there. Lightning broke the darkness that engulfed her small frame. A shiver shot through her body and she rubbed her arms for comfort. She loved storms, but didn't take too well to the darkness it caused. Flipping on her flashlight, she moved slowly back to the kitchen to retrieve a lighter for the candles. A small rumble of thunder masked the sound of her balcony doors opening and closing. Turning around, lightning overtook her living room, exposing a tall, large figure as it slipped into the corner, sliding down the wall and landing on the flood with a thunk. Abby's eyes went wide and she dropped to the floor, shutting off her light along the way. Her heart pounded in her chest and her mind spun.
What do I do?!
Her breathing grew hard, adrenaline pumping through her veins. She pulled open a drawer next to the sink and pulled a long knife out, holding it tight with the mindset that she would confront the intruder. No one could come into her home uninvited!
A groan of pain and a curse pulled her from her thoughts.
"Dammit...Leo's gonna be pissed..."
That voice. She knew that voice. It was the surfer boy tone she'd heard when she had been attacked the other night. Sucking in a breath, she crouched and crept to the love seat, peeking over slightly. The figure clutched his left thigh, breathing hard.
Something was wrong.
Another deep breath. Abby ventured out from behind the love seat and moved so she was standing before the figure. She flipped her flashlight on and pointed it in the corner.
"Woah! Hey!" The person cried out, covering their face. Their hands were covered in blood. "I come in peace, dude!" Abby's heart stopped. There, in her corner, was Michelangelo, the ninja turtle she grew up adoring. Though, he was much larger than she expected, closely resembling the 2014 Michael Bay design. He cringed and lowered his hands to his thigh to cover a wound. She knelt down next to him and reached for his hands. He looked at her with a frightened expression, to which she gave him a small reassuring smile. Abby lifted his hands and drew in a sharp breath at the sight. A bullet had been lodged in his outer thigh. "Yeah, pretty gross, right?" He tried to laugh, but groaned instead.
"I've seen worse." She smiled again at him, receiving a small pained one in return. "We need to get that out."
"Only if you can stitch it shut." He said, his face pale and ridden with pain. She blanched at his words. He noticed. "You don't know how to stitch, do you?"
"I-I do..." She trailed off and watched a few drips of blood fall onto her floor. "Fabric...not wounds."
"That's more than I knew!" He chuckled then tried to soothe his breathing. "I didn't know anything when my brother needed stitches. He couldn't do it himself, so he had to walk me through it."
"When did Donnie get that hurt?" She questioned. The being before her looked at her with a shocked expression. So she did know.
"How did you-"
"I'll tell you later. Let's get you fixed up, kay Mikey?" He continued to stare at her in confusion. "What do I need?"
"Uh...Needle and thread, peroxide, gauze or towels, and alcohol if you have any." He was speaking through clenched teeth by this point. Abby nodded quickly and gathered up everything she needed for him, including a warm moist towel to wipe away some of the quickly drying blood and a small glass bowl.
"Here," she said, dropping to her knees and removing his hands from his thigh to place the warm towel over the wound. "Sterilize the needle, right?" He nodded and leaned his head against the wall, eyes shut tight. Abby dropped the needle into the glass bowl and poured peroxide over it, covering it completely. Her focus turned back to the bleeding turtle.
"Alcohol." He said, his jaw clenched. She unscrewed the top and handed the bottle over. He took it and quickly began drinking it down. Sucking down the last drop of what was a nearly full bottle of vodka, he slowed his breathing.
"Should we wait for that to take effect?" Abby asked, wiping his thigh clean with the rag. Mikey gave a curt nod. They sat in silence together on the floor while the alcohol set in. Knowing the time was drawing near, the small woman dipped the kitchen knife into the same peroxide as the needle.
"Okay..." He sighed, coming to attention and placing a hand on either side of the wound.
"It's gonna hurt." She warned him. He nodded and took a deep breath. "Mikey?" His bright blue hues met her green ones. "I'm sorry."
"Don't be." They gazed at each other for a few seconds before she nodded and looked down at the bullet that stared her in the face. He braced himself and she slid the knife into the wound. He cried out in pain, tears forming at the corners of his eyes. The knife finally slid into place just under the bullet. She placed her index finger and thumb of her free hand over the hole, preparing to pull it out once available.
It popped free, her fingers catching it and dropping it onto a piece of gauze on the floor. She reached for the most cloth and pressed it to the open hole in his leg and pulled him to her.
"I'm sorry, Mikey." She whispered as he breathed heavily into her hair. "I'm so sorry." He choked on his small sobs and pulled away after a minute of comfort.
"T-the peroxide." He didn't expect her to hand it to him this time. It was all her. She lifted the open bottle and took held her breath as she dumped some of the liquid onto his leg and into the hole. He hissed in pain as it bubbled. She wiped it away, then repeated the process until the bubbling stopped.
"Do you need anything before I do this?" Abby asked, pulling his shaking body into her embrace. He didn't dare to wrap his arms around her in fear she'd end up with more of his blood on her than she already had. He found comfort in her quickly beating heart.
"You got more booze?" She gave a small laugh at his response and nodded.
"I have painkillers if you'd prefer." He mulled it over before nodding against her chest. "I thought so. Hang tight, sweetie. I'll be right back." She jumped to her feet and sprinted to her kitchen cabinets. She still had painkillers from when she had her wisdom teeth extracted earlier on in the year. Figuring those would work fine, she pulled a bottle of water from the fridge and bounded back to him.
"I don't know how many you need." Lightning and thunder battled it out behind them, just outside on her balcony. "I had to take two. You're twice my weight, so four would probably be right. Right?" He shrugged at her, tears sliding lazily down his cheeks. Abby shook four out of the pill bottle and opened the water for him. He didn't move. "Mikey, open your mouth for me." He opened his mouth, allowing her to drop the pills on his tongue. "Swallow." He tried to, but found his throat dry. She pressed the water bottle to his lips and tilted it slowly so he could drink. A wave of relief washed over her as he lifted his hand to hold the bottle and drained it like he had the alcohol.
"Thank you." He breathed out, opening his eyes to meet hers. Mikey's eyes clouded with concern and he reached to touch her cheek. "You're crying..." He brushed his bloody thumb over her soft skin, wiping away the moisture that had fallen from her eyes.
"I didn't realize..." She trailed off, then wiped her other cheek across her shoulder to dry herself. "C'mon, let's get you stitched up, huh?" Abby flashed a weak smile. He nodded and pushed himself up a little more. He'd slid down the wall when she'd dug the bullet out.
"Thread the needle like normal. Knot one end." She lifted the needle from the peroxide, threaded it, and knotted the black string. "It's easy. Just stitch a zigzag. Cross back over for strength." He braced himself for the pinching of the needle, but he never felt it. Abby's fingers worked quickly and efficiently, closing up the hole in his leg.
"I need to get you cleaned up, okay?" She asked him, setting everything aside and out of the way.
"How?" He asked. The drugs had started kicking in.
"We need to get you to the bathroom. I can rinse you down there." She stood and held her hands out for him.
"I'm too big." He grunted, shifting so he could take her hands.
"That's okay." She pulled with all her might, lifting him off the floor and slipping her arm around him the best she could. "Just walk with me, okay?" He nodded and limped along side her. She guided him to the bathroom and sat him on the side of the tub. Abby pulled his left leg over the side of the porcelain tub and set it down so it stayed upright. She disappeared briefly to retrieve the flashlight, but lit up the room once she returned. "It's going to be a little cold."
"Sure." He didn't care at this point. His brain was foggy with alcohol and painkillers. Nothing would have bothered him at this point. Or so he thought.
Abby pulled the shower head down and turned it on slowly so there was a gentle flow of cold water. As soon as it touched his leg he let out a yelp of surprise.
"I told you." She smiled weakly and rinsed the blood from his skin, avoiding the already clean area she'd stitched. "Can I trust you in here alone?" She asked, turning off the water and replacing the shower head.
"I've already been shot," he commented. "What other trouble can I get into?" She couldn't help but laugh lightly at his words.
"Okay. I'm trusting you." With that, she exited the bathroom and quickly set up the pullout couch and picked up the empty bottles and the utensils she'd used on him. He couldn't leave tonight, not in his condition. The storm hadn't let up either. There was no way she was letting him leave. When she reentered the bathroom, Mikey situated himself so could wash his hands and so he would be ready to stand whenever she needed him to. The towel he'd used to dry himself sat discarded on the toilet.
"Can I lay down?" He asked, his body visibly exhausted.
"Sure." She gave him a smile and positioned herself next to him. Abby guided him to the pullout couch and assisted him when he needed help laying down. He rolled onto his right side to face the window and keep pressure off his wound. She tucked him in and placed a gentle kiss upon his head, whispering sweet words of encouragement to him.
"Wait." He called to her as she reached the spiral staircase that would lead to her bed. Mikey pushed himself up and turned to look at her figure. "Thank you." A tired smile formed on his lips. "You're an Angel." Abby paused, her heart fluttering with his words.
"Get some rest, Michelangelo." She padded up the stairs and to her sleeping space to change. Her eyes moved to the tired, wounded turtle that took up her pullout couch. With a shake of her head, she slid into the warmth of her own bed, pushing thoughts of the once fictional character out of her head.
