Disclaimer: I don't own the Ninja Turtles

A/N: Here I am at work, all the patients have come in early, the doctors have moved uncharactaristically fast, and I am left with two hours to myself manning the front desk until I can go home and everything caught up for the day. What to do...what to do... Special thanks to raphfreak and Pretender Fanatic for helping to hammer out the details.

Chapter 9

Righteous Death part 2

The unknown was always such a wonderful thing to me. For what seemed like forever, I lived by the saying 'what you don't know can't hurt you.'

Humans are predictable beings and enjoy their lives to be predictable as well. They prepare for future events sometimes years in advance. They created clocks so that they could categorize their events better, calenders to organize dates years in advance, to be able to predict times between the now and the planned events. Even humans who proclaim that they love spontanaety are not spontaneous. They plan weeks in advance a mountain climb, skydive, time at a skateboard park, or anything inbetween. They even plan to make the money to pay to do these things.

Then they revel in their freedom.

Humans don't know the true meaning of freedom. of planting one foot in front of the other and not knowing where you're going. Fighting through a building, not knowing who you're going to run into, not knowing if the next face you see will be the last. There is a true freedom in complete lack of a plan, not caring of your future. For all you were concerned, you would be shortly facing death.

Sometimes that is the best way to live.


It was like a thrilling, enthralling dream. I never once recalled my feet touching the ground as my heart voraciously pumped the blood through my veins with such strength that I could hear the rhythmic beating in my ears. I stormed through the door, flying into the room even as the humans shreiked and fell over themselves in their effort to escape. Stainless steel spinning in my hands, I came down upon them. They never had a chance. Hot, red, sticky, coppery fluid fell upon my skin as I surged through them with a previously unknown feroucity. I wasn't even aware of their appearance, they were pointless beings without faces, each only one more easily toppled obstacle in my final destination.

That thought, the thought of meeting Bishop once more kept me energized to a level that I seldom experienced. With each precisely measured slice of the scalpel I imagined that being Bishop's neck, his pulsing artery, his life fluid gushing out of him in torrents. Only it wouldn't be so easy for him.

Al's presence was a constant booster, a constant high. A constant upper. It was like he was with me, in me, surging my body with ecxitement, feeding my thirst for the chase and for the kill. He whooped and hollered as each body fell, urging me on, goading me to go further. With my face locked in an expression of manic torment, I did just that.

Always nipping at the back of my mind, at the heels of my thoughts, was my brother left lying on the floor in the first room...or my Master and his fateful words the previous night that I can't quite remember...or that nagging ache in my head... Yet each time my mind wandered in that direction, there was Al, everpresent Al. He cut at the connection like a string and whirled me around to the next exciting kill until I wasn't even aware of that strange feeling in my gut. Of the feeling that Al wasn't who I thought he was...

I was moving as though I weren't part of my own body. It was as if I was partially watching what was going on and was just along for the ride. It was an eerie, yet thrilling sensation that I was loathe to leave behind. It made it seem so...exciting. It was as though all the horrible things of the past didn't matter anymore. All that mattered was the here and now.

The closer that I got to my destination, the more energized I became. Deeper into the ground I went, through more and more challenging humans. They appeared from behind the doors, brandishing pistols, stun guns, batons, tonfas and other assorted weapons. They could hardly touch me. I was like a crazed demon, covered in blood, pupils fixed and dilated, teeth bared in a manic smile. They always hesitated. They always panicked. Thus, when they shot, they always missed. I was never in one place for more than an instant, rebounding off the floor, the furniture and the walls. They hardly knew where to aim their crude weapons, never realizing that their greatest potential weapons were their own bodies. With stainless steel flashing in my hands I cut them down until some even had the sense to run. I didn't let these escape either.

Though I wasn't sure at which point it was pulled, the alarm was pulled. Although no sound was made, red lights flashed and strobed in the hallways and rooms. Everything was highlighted in flashing, pulsating red. Somehow it seemed to suite my mood, or even better, to feed it. The red in the scene seemed to be the red in my eyes, the red in their blood...

How many blows did I recieve...I couldn't say for sure. Mostly hits from close range with the tonfas and batons, along with an occasional spent gun swung like a club. Though I was sure that the damage I recieved was minimal, I felt none of them save the impression of being hit. I was at such an adrenaline high that I don't think I would've felt it if I were shot. I just continued on, going further and further in the underground labrynth until I thought with humor that it was like I was digging my own grave.

Then came the door, the tall imposing door. I skidded to a halt, staring at the door as both hot and cold flooded my chest in an eerie, yet intensley exciting feeling. Legs trembling slightly, I licked my lips. Though I'd never seen this door before, I knew it. Behind it lay my enemy, my goal: Bishop.

Instantly Al was beside me, smiling in a way that made you want to take a step back. I stared back at him the same way, lightly touching the door. My heart thudded hard against my ribcage. As my fingers touched the handle I suddenly thought of Raph, trying to keep me from entering a door by gripping a similar handle.

Don't!

I started and stared at my longtime friend, eyes wide. Immediately he pointed towards the door. Bishop.

Smiling, I swung it open in a percieved calm that I hadn't exhibited the entire evening. Then I saw him. There. On the other side of the room. BISHOP.

He swung around, papers scattered about the desk before him in a haphazard, panicked way. The surprise in his eyes flicked away almost before I realized it was there, replaced by a dark certainty. A cold, calculated smile spread on his lips and his eyes narrowed in the cocky, confident way that he had, the one that I remembered so well. "So," he spoke, his low, even voice sending a shiver up my spine. He was as I remembered him. Dark, sure, dressed in a professional yet highly functional suit. His eyes met mine, never quavering. "I spend all this time looking for you and you find me. How convenient."

Despite myself my knees trembled. He was too confident, too poised...could I do this? Immediately in my mind flashed the half dozen times I nearly escaped, only to be stopped by him with a few calculated moves. I could never beat him before...

NO!

I started out of my wanderings, seeing Al standing near Bishop. He may have beaten you before, but you are ready now! You can do this! Let me help you! This is the only way we can be together forever! THINK OF WHAT HE DID TO YOU!!!

He was right. He was always right. With a snarl playing across my lips I shreiked as I launched myself bodily towards him. I cleared the distance in a single leap, fingers curled like tenderhooks, mouth bared, every muscle wired.

Yet it wasn't enough.

Perhaps it was the animalistic way that I had of fighting, perhaps it was the countless days and nights chained in a cell or locked in a closet instead of exercising my body and mind...perhaps it was many things...Either way, this was different than I thought.

I hadn't even had a chance to strike him when he glided to the side out of my reach and struck me hard on the back of the neck with the point of his elbow. Instant pain blossoming in the site, I hurtled towards the ground. Catching myself on my hands I tried to propell my legs to strike him in the face. Yet before my legs had a chance to begin their motion, his foot connected hard in my gut, just below my sternum. Grunting as all my wind immediately left my lungs, I landed on my shell, momentarily out of breath and stunned.

He never gave me a chance to recover. Grabbing my wrist he jerked me towards him. Sliding on my shell, his foot met my temple in a swift kick that literally sent me spinning with a new type of pounding pain in my brain.

Scrambling for gripping I managed to find it just as I crashed into a tall exam table. Hands planted on the floor I stopped myself from spinnong more on my shelljust as he came at me swiftly, his expensive leather shoes hardly making a sound on the tile. Yet he still made a sound.

Bishop came flying at me, his foot aimed at a spot on my head that would've sent me out. Pushing my feet against the exam table, I slid easily across the floor on my shell, grabbing his other foot and sending him to the ground. Catching himself on his hands he glared at me as he kicked at my face with his other foot. Catching it with my free hand, I kicked at him in return, blood spurting out his nose where my calloused heel kissed it.

Hardly had my leg flexed for another strike that he snatched a thin, stainless steel stool and flipped it at me. I only had time to see it coming and let go of his ankles before it struck me solidly between the eyes, my hands not quick enough to catch it. Stars burst momentarily in my vision as I clapped my hands to my face with a hoarse, high pitched cry, blood seeping between my fingers. Then something equally hard and cold hit me hard in my side, then my shoulder, then my chest. Grunting and clutching at the explosions of pain, I gasped and looked up to see him standing over me, a metal pipe in each hand, pounding them against my flesh. Instinctively I cried out and kicked.

Even a man of his stature won't take a hard heel-kick to the groin with grace. The pipes clattered to the ground and he doubled over with an odd squealing sound as I scrambled away, struggling to regain my footing. Once I did, I saw the world was more than just unsteady, it spun and rocked. The combination blows to the head with the spinning on my shell did my sense of balance no justice. Blood leaking in my eyes, I squinted at him for an instant, blinking hard until the image cleared slightly and rushed at him once more.

I heard the slight chuckle too late. Snatching one of the metal pipes, he instantly righted himself and swung it. My balance being off-key, I tried to duck but only succeeded in skidding to my shell just as the end of the pipe connected with my chin in an upward motion. My jaw clipped painfully together and my vision faltered into blackness for an instant just as I saw it coming to my face in a second blow with sent me thumping to the floor hard enough to bounce my head off the tile.

It was too much.

Everything seemed to stop for an instant. My body lax, I crumpled to the floor, blowing chunky blood out my nose, twitching slightly as the blows came again and again and again. My head, nothing but a solid ball of pain, confusion, and rolling injury constantly threatening blackout, had clearly had enough of the precisely aimed blows. My body, confused at the weak, mixed signals coming from my rattled brain, feebly made motions but were forcefully struck down. The pain in my face and head intense, I hardly seemed to notice the other blows other than as yet another sharp pain in my body. I gaped air from my mouth like a half drowned fish, my nose too clogged with my own body tissue to function, and my blurry, blood soaked vision revealing little, I slowly broke down.

Tears slowly leaked from my eyes even as I purposely removed myself, just as I had done so many times in the cell and on the exam table. Away from the pain, away from the torment, away from everything. I removed myself even as I blacked out. Within me I sobbed deep wracking sobs, crying at my own inadequacy, at my own failures, at my own mistakes. With sorrow etching hard furrows in my soul, I pictured kind, patient, honest and forthright Raph crumpled on the floor by my hand. Leonardo and Donatello doing their best in their own way to help me heal, whether through training or treatment. And Splinter, my father, being my guiding spirit, yet I never even knew it. I laughed at myself. I screwed up my own destiny, my own 'goal.' Whether it was through not seeing my own mistakes or spending one too many nights locked in a cell or in a closet instead of being at my peak like Bishop and my brothers...I still failed them, my family.

Even through the misty confusion of my own mind and place Al leaned in close. Do not think of them. They are not here in your hour of need. I am. I am your one true friend, not them. Do not think of them.

Squinting, I looked at him. For the first time that night I allowed myself to feel the unease that had been following me. "No, you left." I mumbled, looking at my prone body being beaten on the floor just as I had so many times during surgery.

Al was incensed.

They MADE me leave you! I would never leave you on my own! NEVER! YOU ARE MINE!

I shook my head. "No, you made me hurt Raph. I-I thought you were going to hurt him and I did instead..." I clapped my face in my hands, even in this astral place my mind wobbled. What was I thinking!

He got in close, drilling his eyes into mine. NO! You were in self defense! He was preventing you from your goal!

For the first time I can remember with us by ourselves, I didn't shrink back from his onslaught. A new kind of feeling swelled within me even through the anger and pain. "I never would've gotten here if he hadn't-"

NO! NO! NO! I led you here, not him! It was me who brought you here!

He stomped his foot. He raged. He riled, staring at me with angry eyes. With his face purpled with rage, he suddenly reminded me of a child throwing a tantrum.

I laughed, sputtering blood from my mouth even in my subconscious. "You brought me to my death..."

You cannot die! Whatever happens here will only bring you closer to me! You are mine, you just forgot! I MADE YOU!!!

I shuddered at the words. I thought of how I used to be, how carefree, how joyful, how lighthearted. Then I thought of what I just did. How many blood was on my skin, on my hands, on my soul. The thought rocked my core. Al screamed at me, yet I couldn't make out his words. I didn't care. Were they truly guilty? Did I just slaughter the innocent? The thought was too far for me to take any further and I approached the edge. Sobbing, I looked over, so easy to end it all, free this world from my existence...

Something slapped my face again, jolting me awake. Blinking through swollen eyes and blurry vision, I saw Bishop's face. He smiled in a way that made my blood boil. "Don't go yet, Michelangelo. Don't go yet." I blinked slowly, listening to his footsteps echoing away slightly. Struggling to right my head, I moaned under my breath as my head spun, pounded, and sent sharp stabs of pain down my spine all at the same time. Trying to lift my hand, I found it too heavy to be worth the effort and gave up before it left the floor. Slowly I flexed my fingers. Even this simple action brought torrents of pain shooting up my arm.

Slowly the world cleared and I found myself in the same room, yet carefully propped up against some far cabinets. Bishop moved about a table with purposeful calmness, his true anxiety showing in his slightly shaking hands. Numbly I wondered what could be so important to risk everything when his base was under attack, but couldn't make it beyond that point. As he turned to retrieve something from a cupboard, I caught a glimpse of his face. He sported several ripe-looking bruises that I managed to give him. Though it was nothing in comparison from what he gave to me. He must've continued to beat me even when I passed out. I closed my eyes, willing myself away from the pain as I had done so many times before.

"I had a purpose for you, Michelangelo." I blinked before I realized that Bishop was speaking as he worked with the object on th table. Finding the effort too much I closed my eyes and didn't respond. Somehow I could feel him looking at me before he continued. "True, I liked the torture, I enjoyed the pain you felt, but I truly did have a purpose. Those parts, those organs, the grafts from your skin, the samples from your eyes, the operations on your joints, like all my other projects they have a higher purpose."

A voice from my distant, innocent past quipped up: he was monologuing. Just like all the supervillians do in my old comic books, they talk seemingly to themselves when they knew the hero was down and didn't think he'd get back up; when they were sure of victory. I resisted the urge to smirk, both because of the pain I knew it would cause and that I thought that Bishop suspected that I had passed out again. For the first time since I invaded the place, my mind was thinking of my possible next step. I couldn't let him win.

"You see," He continued his pace becoming slightly more hurried. "I had tried to make my own beings in the past, but they all failed. They were too weak physically, or any life that I gave them made them psychotic and impossible to control. So I needed a fresh start. A new beginning. I needed to take steps to fullfill my dream of my own army. And you, Michelangelo, fit the bill perfectly."

I had no idea what he was talking about, and I was getting closer and closer to not caring any longer. Somehow I knew that if I could just fall asleep, the sleep might be deep enough that I might not wake up....after all that I could remember that didn't seem like such a bad idea...

"It was your DNA, the mutation that exists in every cell in your body. It is priceless, unfortunately, it turned out to be much harder to reproduce than I ever imagined."

Michelangelo! Michelangelo! You cannot even be thinking of leaving! He still lives! He still breathes! Kill him and we can be together forever!

I smiled as Al hissed the words in my ear. I didn't care anymore. Why should I care? He's already won, hasn't he? He's already beaten me, why give him the opportunity to do it again? Besides, I think that I can choose my own fate, even if it doesn't include Al...

It was like he read my mind, something that for some reason I had never considered before.

DON'T YOU DARE talk like that! You are MINE!

Darkness taunted at my mind, flounting it's sweet pain free world in eternity. Dreamily I drifted towards it, welcomed it, reached out for it, ready for it's cold, everlasting embrace...

"Ah ah ah! No you don't!" Once again the steely hands rocked my from my promised eternal slumber, this time gripping me hard on my arms thus sending waves of pain deep within my body. Clenching my teeth, I curled my fingers and hissed at the sensation. Bishop laughed at me under his breath as he hoisted me into his arms with a bit of effort on his part. "You see, turtle..." he continued his monologue, his voice grunting under my weight. I simply allowed myself to be lifted, nearly immobile with the pain of him pressing on my bruised body with his forceful grip. "...I cannot finish my experiment with you dead..."

Non-too-gently he flopped me on a cold exam table. Instantly the familiar feeling caused my heart to race, yet I forced myself to calm down. Somehow the pain radiating from every part of my body, reawakened in flame with his rough handling, did much to clear my head. I was rushed out of the darkness's grip with a savage jerk and I found myself very much awake, very much aware. Still purposely keeping my eyes downcast and drowsy looking, I let them wander aimlessly, something telling me this was the right thing to do. Best to let him think that I'm still clambering for death's door...

Bishop smirked, obviously buying into it. I resisted a smile myself. Sometimes his cockyness could get the best of him...moving my hand slightly I touched something that felt intimately familiar and immediately tucked it in my palm. Bishop continued.

"...I cannot awaken my pet without your forfeit." He smiled, gesturing to the table beside mine.

Pet? Peeking out of the corner of my eye to where he pointed and the sight of it made my breath freeze in my lungs.

Al gasped. It's...it's...it's..

It was...me.

Only from parts of me. It was a patchwork turtle, made from different parts, parts I recognized, others that were obviously manufactured. But the skeletel structure, the shell, the dome head...he was making his own mutant. Grotesque and discolored, it lay there lifelessly with closed eyes and puckered skin. Suddenly I trembled all over. This must surely be the work of madness, this was...crazy. A shadow cast over me and I looked up at him through slitted eyes.

He leaned over me, a smile playing beneath the surgical mask he'd donned. "I see you've met your equivical brother. I do hope you're impressed with him. He was several years in the making, which was why I had to keep you so long. In essence, I had to wait for technology to catch up with what I was doing, but I did it. Unfortunately you escaped before I could make the final step and provide my pet with a brain. Something that you can easily provide, I imagine."

Michelangelo! NO!

I felt the strap tighten around my wrist before I realized what he was doing.

He was tethering me down for my final surgery. My brain surgery. To give to that thing like he'd been doing. He finished the strap, still obviously beliving me too close to death to make a real fight. "A sacrifice you'd be willing to make for the future of mankind on my behalf of course." He smirked at me.

The cold steel that I'd tucked in my palm seemed to burn in my hand and I gripped it hard.

As he reached over me for my other hand, I gritted my teeth and shoved everything away, the intense pain, my mental turmoil, Al now screaming in a corner...and plunged the scalpel into his chest.

The stainless steel blade slid easily between his ribs. I could feel it as it punctured the wall of his heart, the warmth of his arterial blood already wetting his shirt. Removing my shaking hand, I stared at the handle sticking out of his chest as it throbbed in tune with his heartbeat. His eyes wide with shock, he stared at me and moved his hands towards the scalpel in numb silence. Glaring right back into those hated eyes, I pushed the surgical tool completely into his chest with the palm of my hand.

With a grunt he faltered, going down to one knee. With clawed hands he gripped my shoulders, his wide, shocked eyes staring straight into mine. I gripped him back, coming off the table, holding him partially up as he slowly fell to the floor. The front of his jacket was saturated with blood to the point that it was dripping to the floor in a steady flow. His mouth contorting, though not a sound coming out, he continued to stare into my eyes.

He knew.

He was dying.

"You're through," I whispered.

I lay there and watched those eyes, watched as the light slowly left the pupils, as the eyelids relaxed, the breath eased out of his lungs and his hands released their feindish grip. Completely placid, he lay there in my grip, eyes half open yet cold, hands resting on the floor yet lax...Even then I stared at him again for a moment longer, waiting for him to laugh at me, to get back up, to mock me with my failure, but none happened.

He was truly dead.

YES!!! He is finally dead! YOU DID IT!!! Al whooped and hollered beside me as I lay there, still staring at his body. Somehow I had thought that I would feel...different upon his death. That everything would be better. That I would be back to normal. Yet if I felt anything, it was a small inadequate semblance of closure, one more loose end clipped.

What are you lying around for? We have to get out of here! Remember the alarms? We need to go!

Within that visit to the spirit world, the nearness that I had brushed with death, my family rescuing me...something had changed within me. I needed something else...something else to bring an end to it all...one more loose end...

GET UP!!! Get up NOW! Do as I say! We can't risk letting your family capture you again! Who knows what they'd do to you! You need to remain with me! Forever!

Slowly, methodically I looked up at my friend. The friend that I had a sudden sense, would realize my train of thought as I slowly whispered something while staring straight into his eyes...

"One more loose end..."


A/N: think this chapter was one of my longest! IHope the killing of Bishop was satisfactory for you who couldn't wait for him to die. With luck I scrored pretty well so far as getting Mikey's 'change of mind' thing with Al. Let me know if I need to build up on it or not with the next chapter. Which reminds me, I'm predicting only two more chapters with this story, so I hope you're getting your fill! Please leave a review and let me know what you think, reviews never fail to motivate more writing!

On a side note, I want to encourage everyone to nominate their favorite stories for the TMNT fanfiction competition and make it interesting. You can get all the information you need online at Stealthy Sories where all rules, regulations and nomination categories are listed. The nominations end on Feb 4 so be sure to speak up before then! I encourage all of you to spread similar messages throughout TMNT fanfiction!

Toodles!