"You know," Leonardo chastised. "You could at least let us know where you were." He eyed Raphael, his brother simply stood there nonchalantly chewing on an apple, still staring into the refrigerator and mulling over more choices.
Raphael eyed the small red object and looked it over with care before taking another bite. If he had heard Leonardo at all, he was simply ignoring him. Holding the apple between his teeth, he shoved a few items aside and pulled out the small carton of chocolate milk. Smiling, he didn't even bother to pour the sweet liquid into a glass. The large turtle simply tossed the cap onto the counter top and chugged away.
"Raph," Leonardo raised his eye ridges and heaved a sigh in frustration. He hated it when his brothers would totally disregard him. It was for the sake of his family that he asked these questions. Knowing where everyone was and what they were doing kept the leader somewhat sane. If he knew where his brother's were, then he felt a little more in control of the chaos their life could be. He felt that his brothers were protected should something go wrong. But Raphael was still ignoring him. "RAPH!"
"What?" Startled, Raphael almost choked down the last of the chocolate milk, sputtering a bit and wiping a few dribbles from his mouth and white t-shirt. He glared at his blue banded brother, standing there with his arms folded and a look on his face that Raphael didn't care for. It was the I am the leader and you're not so you better do as I say or I'll tell Splinter look. Raphael sighed. He hated that look. Sometimes he wanted to smack it off his brother's face. With a bit of aggravation in his movements, he slammed the now empty milk container into the garbage bin. "Monday night I went for a ride," he explained, taking one last bite of his apple. "Nothing more." Still hungry, he turned around and began raiding the cabinets. Lifting weights after a practice always made him hungry.
"You were gone for four hours," Leonardo stressed. "You could have at least told us where you were headed." He turned and watched as Raphael once again disappeared behind the refrigerator door, his arm resting on the edge and fingers tapping in thought. "Or you could have at least had your phone on. We had no clue where you were or how to get in touch with you." Leonardo shook his head in disbelief at the lack of response. He honestly believed Raphael was doing it on purpose, giving himself a chance to come up with a decent, believable story to explain his whereabouts.
"Look," the large turtle stood up, clutching the jelly and a loaf of bread to his chest. With his foot he shut the door to the ice box. "I went for a ride on my bike, then," he glared at his older brother and dropped the items on the table. "I went to Angie's and hung out there for awhile." Turning around, Raphael reached for the jar of peanut butter and grabbed a knife from the drawer. It wasn't a lie, not really. He did hit the streets on his motorcycle. He stopped off at an old jewelry store and made a pick up then headed for Santini's building and dropped off the package and got paid. So essentially, what he was telling was the truth, in a round about sort of way.
"Okay," Leonardo sighed. "Fine. Just next time," he rubbed at his forehead. "Let someone know where you are okay? It's something we all do for each other."
"Whatever."
Shaking his head in disbelief, Leonardo left the kitchen and went to his father's room. He suddenly felt the need to meditate.
Smearing a large glop of peanut butter onto the bread, Raphael gave a little smirk of satisfaction. He liked getting under Leonardo's skin every now and then. It was his way of giving the leader a reality check. Raphael liked reminding his brother that the rest of the world doesn't always work the way he thought it should and that there is the possibility that Leonardo isn't always right. Letting out a small chuckle, the large turtle finished making his sandwich and headed up to his room to get cleaned up. He felt like going out for awhile.
"Mikey put that down!"
"What?" the youngest gave his most innocent look. "I just wanted to see what it was."
"It," Donatello snatched the little grey box with the big red button from his brother's hand. "…is a long range remote control for my dynamic thermally charged miniature imploding space modulator." Donatello quickly placed the small item somewhere he was certain it would be at least temporarily safe from his brother's reach and resumed his search.
"A wha…?" Michelangelo asked as he tucked a comic book into his belt and scratched his head, trying to remember the long name the tiny little gadget had.
The purple clad turtle sighed in aggravation. He forgot that his brother's mind didn't operate quite as fast as his. Sometimes Donatello would forget not to use such big words. "The little box," he started as he continued opening desk drawers, hunting for a certain item. "…has a remote switch inside. Pushing the switch in the little box makes a big box far away go boom…"
"And things explode!" Michelangelo happily completed.
"No," Donatello corrected. "Not explode, but implode. Rather than causing debris to go flying out in unknown trajectories and possibly harming innocents, this little device causes an implosion." The now talking turtle stood up and faced Michelangelo as he continued to give the science lesson. "Usually to cause an implosion, a person would need a certain amount of charges set off a various rates that would force the building to fall in on itself. But I made a device that, when placed in the very center of an area, will structurally weaken an establishment from the inside." Michelangelo's eyes began to glaze over as Donatello continued his speech. "you see, inside the larger box are several smaller charges that are set to fly out in a specific pattern and speed so that as they move towards the outer edges of it's set parameters, they slowly fire off, one by one, starting with the charges in the center. This way, the building implodes, causing it to fall in on itself with less noise and mess. It also uses fewer materials and takes less time to set up than using regular explosives would."
"Uh…..okay?"
Donatello sighed and shook his head. He should have known better. Aggravated, he went back to his search. "You know," his eyes focused on Michelangelo. "You could make yourself useful and help me find what it is I'm looking for."
"What's that?" the youngest asked, already opening and shutting cabinet doors, looking for anything in particular.
"A blank DVD," Donatello answered. "I know I had a whole stack of them. I need a new one to record the feed from the cameras. The one that's in there now is almost full and I can't find any blank ones." He looked up when he heard a small 'eep' from his brother. Rising, Donatello found Michelangelo nervously chewing on his fingernails, his eyes moving about side to side, silently praying for the necessary items to pop into existence.
"Michelangelo," Donatello said sternly. Slowly and purposely, he made his way over to fidgety sibling. "What did you do?"
"I didn't know you were going to need them, honest," the youngest backed up trying to put some space between his brother and himself. "I used your DVD's and Raph's laptop to download a bunch of movies off the internet." In one last ditch effort, Michelangelo tried his best to give his brother the most pitiful look possible. One that said 'I'm sorry, please don't kill me, and you know you're my favorite brother,' all at once. It didn't work. Michelangelo's screams of terror could be heard throughout the lair.
Splinter and Leonardo came running from the ninja masters room. Swords had been unsheathed and a walking stick was held high, ready for whatever was causing the young to turtle to yell out in fright. Raphael was quickly behind his father and brother, leaping down from the second level, his right hand holding tightly to the butt of a pistol. Coming into the main living area, the threesome found Donatello sitting astride Michelangelo's shell. Donatello had his brother's arms pinned back with one hand; the other was holding one of Michelangelo's precious comic books over the water pool, ready to drop the poor paper mercilessly into the depths below. Leonardo glared at the firearm gripped tightly in Raphael's hand.
"Donatello!" Splinter spoke out sternly. "What is the meaning of this?" The old rat received no answer, save for his son's maniacal laughter and utterance's of water logged super heroes. Cautiously, Splinter stepped forward and changed his tactics. "Donatello," he spoke softly this time. "Hand over the comic book and let your brother up."
"No," Donatello answered firmly, his eyes still fixated on his younger brother beneath him. "He needs to be taught a lesson."
"Look Donnie," Leonardo stammered as he walked around into his brother's line of sight. "Tell us what Mikey did and we'll make him pay, I promise." Michelangelo glared at the oldest when he heard that statement.
Slowly, Donatello took a deep breath and let it out, speaking through gritted teeth. "I had April pick up a month's supply of DVD's so I could continuously record the feed from the security camera's Raph and I set up." His grip on the comic tightened and the paperback made a crinkling sound as the cover was squished. Michelangelo felt his stomach churn at the sound. It was the first issue of the Silver Sentry after all.
"Okay," Leonardo whispered, keeping his brother talking. "What happened next?"
"What happened next?" Donatello exclaimed. "Michelangelo is what happened! He used up all the blank ones, along with Raph's laptop, to download movies onto, and converted them to a read only format. I can't record over them and now I don't have any empty ones left!"
Michelangelo, now able to get a hand free, struggled to save his precious comic book from its impending doom but his reach wasn't long enough. He let out a small "eeep!" as he watched the paper fall from Donatello's three fingers and down toward the murky water below. A sigh of relief escaped his lips as Leonardo caught the comic at the last minute.
"Don," Raphael started, slightly aggravated that this was the cause of such a big ruckus. "Why don't you just record over what Mike already has on the disc?"
"I can't," Donatello answered through gritted teeth. "I didn't buy the rewrite-able ones."
"Why the hell not?" A heavy tap from Splinter's walking stick made the large turtle reconsider his words. "Why didn't you get the rewrite-able ones?"
The purple banded turtle whipped his head around to his family. "I didn't get those because I was afraid some idiot," he glared back at Michelangelo. "…would record over info we might need!"
"Enough," Splinter calmly spoke. "Donatello, let your brother up."
"But…"
"Let him up," the father said again in a much firmer tone.
Reluctantly, Donatello stood up and backed away from his little brother. Quickly, Michelangelo jumped up and stretched. Then he gratefully took his once endangered comic from Leonardo and began to try and smooth out the wrinkles in the paper. "Thanks a lot Don," he muttered as he looked over his shoulder. "You ruined it."
"Michelangelo," the orange banded turtle turned his head at the sound of his name. Splinter was standing there, arms folded and a stern look on his face. Raphael was beside his father and his look wasn't any better.
"Taking your brother's things without first gaining permission has become a problem for you," the old rat began.
"Yeah," Raphael stepped forward as he returned the pistol to its holster. Michelangelo took a timid step back. "When the hel…" he paused. "When the heck did you take my laptop anyway? You haven't asked to use it in over three weeks!" Again he stepped forward, poking his smaller brother in the plastron, Michelangelo once more taking a step back.
Donatello joined in the intimidation practice. "And I saw you using Leo's butterfly swords the other day to cut up potatoes." He caught Leonardo's surprised look from the corner of his eye and gave a satisfied smile as the leader joined in the small mob.
"You didn't ask me for those," Leonardo glared as he now stood on Raphael's right side and fell in step with his brothers.
Desperately, Michelangelo looked to his father for salvation but saw no sympathy in Splinter's look. Hesitantly, he took another step back, realizing he was precariously close to the water's edge and clutched tightly to his copy of The Silver Sentry #1.
Not being stopped, the gang of three continued with their intimidation tactics. Had it been any other situation, Splinter would have made an effort to stop the small angry mob. But, the fatherly rat knew that all other tries of getting the youngest to ask permission before removing or using items that belonged to his brothers had failed. It seemed to him that the only one's who would be able to show Michelangelo the error of his ways, were his brothers. It looked as if it might be working.
"Stay out of our stuff!" Leonardo charged as Donatello poked Michelangelo hard in the plastron one last time.
The youngest teetered on the edge of the pond, arms flailing about as he tried to maintain his balance but it didn't work. Leaning in with the meanest look that he could, Raphael let out a quiet little 'Boo.' It was just enough and Michelangelo fell back into the dark and cold water, Leonardo snatching the youngest's precious comic just before he fell in.
Sputtering and gasping for breath, Michelangelo climbed out of the water and onto the edge of the pool. Shaking the water from his body, he removed his mask and squeezed out the moisture. The now wet turtle gave it a questioning look, trying to decide if he really wanted to reapply the soggy piece of cloth. Angrily, he tucked the orange strip in his belt and held an expectant hand out to Leonardo but did not receive his comic.
What surprised him was that Master Splinter took the comic from Leonardo. "Michelangelo," the fatherly rat started. "You seem to have forgotten how important it is to ask for permission before using your brother's personal items. As such," he gave a glare that silenced the opposing cries from the youngest of the turtles. "…I will hold your comic book for one month," he stressed and placed the book into the fold of his robe. "If, after that time, you have proven that you can be considerate of your brothers property and not treat it like your own, I will return your book to you."
"And the three of you," Splinter turned and gave a glare to his other three sons who were busy laughing at Michelangelo's predicament. "If your brother asks politely to borrow or use an item of yours, you are to lend it to him," he stressed amid the moans and groans of the three turtles. Satisfied that the situation had been dealt with, Splinter returned to his room to finish his meditation.
"Thanks a lot you guys," Michelangelo muttered as he stomped his way to his room leaving his brothers to do nothing but shrug their shoulders to each other.
"Serves him right," Raphael muttered as he looked back at Donatello and Leonardo.
"Yeah but it doesn't solve the current problem," Donatello answered and saw the questioning looks on both Leonardo's and Raphael's face. "I still don't have any blank DVD's to use and I only have an hour and half left on the one that's in there. And April and Casey are out of town at some big antique fair in Massachusetts so there isn't anyone to pick up more." Quietly, the trio stood there and tried to figure out a possible solution. Without a word, Michelangelo walked out of his room and into the kitchen. Five minutes later, the orange clad turtle walked back out of the kitchen and headed to his room, bowl of popcorn and soda in hand.
"Hey Mikey," Raphael yelled to his little brother. "It's already five o'clock. When are you going to start dinner?"
"When I get my comic back," Michelangelo yelled as he continued walking to his room, the door slamming behind him.
"You guys figure out what we're doing for dinner," Donatello answered as he headed back to his lab. "I'll try to come up with another idea for the security cameras."
"Can you cook?" Raphael asked Leonardo.
"Not unless you want the entire lair to explode," the leader answered. "What about you?"
"Only if you feel like eating microwavable meals for a month."
Leonardo sighed. "I hate the idea of it, but we might have to sneak into a store after it closes and get the necessary items. We'll leave money of course but breaking and entering is not my favorite thing to do." Scratching his head, he went to go see Donatello.
Watching his brother walk away, Raphael pulled his cell phone out and turned his attention to it. Taking in a breath, he opened it up and made a phone call. "Hey, Angie?"
"I'm okay, how are you?" The large turtle let out a chuckle as Angie told him about one of her professors at the local college. "Listen Angie," Raphael interrupted her. "I was wondering if you could do something for me…"
After speaking with Donatello and telling him about the possibility of having to sneak into electronics store after hours, Leonardo came back into the living area and the end of Raphael's phone conversation.
"Alright," he heard Raphael speak into his cell, slightly agitated. "You win," and the large turtle walked off, his voice disappearing along with him as he headed down the hall. Shrugging his shoulders, Leonardo sat down on the couch and turned on the afternoon news, wondering if maybe they should just order pizza for dinner, even though they had had it the previous night. He decided to wait and give it another hour. Michelangelo would surely be hungry by then and would have calmed down enough to make dinner for everyone.
It was almost six o'clock when Raphael walked out of his room, a clean pair of jeans and a grey t-shirt on, minus the chocolate milk stains. Hurriedly, the large turtle made his way past the couch and toward the elevator. "Be right back," he answered the strange stares from Donatello, Leonardo, and Splinter.
The large turtle stood in the center of the street level warehouse. Shielding his eyes from the light of the headlamps of the jeep that pulled up, he pushed a button on the side wall to his left and closed the garage door. A bit perturbed at being coerced into the whole situation, he stood with his arms folded as the driver happily jumped out.
"Hola Raphael!" Angie blurted out as she jumped out and turned her back to the large turtle. She wasn't even aware of his stern look as she began lifting bags out of the back seat and continued talking. "I almost got lost on my way here. So what do you think of my new camion? The insurance company sent a tow truck over to get my car and it was totally stripped so mi tio said I could have whatever I wanted. I decided for something different." Still talking excitedly, Angie turned around, bags in hand and stared at Raphael quizzically. "es algo incorrecto?"
Raphael was still standing there, arms folded and a scowl starting to emerge on his face. It made Angie a bit nervous as she stared at him and she put the bags down as she stepped closer. "You look mad."
"I don't like being forced into things Angie," he grumbled as he watched the young girl nervously shove her hands into the pockets of her denim jeans. "I've had enough of people playing mind games with me at the station. I don't need it here."
"I'm…I'm sorry," Angie stammered. "I didn't mean to…."
"Never mind," Raphael gave a huff as he picked up the two large white shopping bags and headed for the elevator. He stopped when he heard a sniffle behind him. Rolling his eyes, he turned to around and saw what he expected. Angie was standing there, tears starting to drip down her cheeks. "What?" he asked expectantly.
Angie tried to answer but instead only managed to get out a squeak. Embarrassed, she turned around and started to walk back to her vehicle. She only stopped when she felt a hand on her shoulder.
"Would you stop crying please?"
"I can't help it," Angie muttered as she wiped her eyes and tried to calm down. "I finally get a decent boyfriend and I go and screw everything up."
"Boyfriend?" Raphael asked as he grasped Angie's shoulders, turning her around and making her look him in the eye.
Angie's cheeks became flushed as she realized he didn't know what she was talking about, that he didn't view the two of them the same way she did. "I… it's just…" she stuttered. "Oh God," she finally let out as she covered her face with her hands, embarrassed.
"It's okay," Raphael's voice finally softened and he gently pulled her hands from her face. "I like the sound of that."
"Really?"
"Yeah," he nodded and leaned in, placing a soft kiss on her cheek.
"Are you still mad at me?" Angie asked as she straightened out her black and white striped t-shirt.
"Look," Raphael stepped back and tried to think of how to explain things to her. "My life before wasn't so great okay and I don't feel like relieving any of it. If you want to know something about me or my family, just ask. Don't try to trick me or force me into things, okay?"
"Okay," Angie smiled. "Estoy apesadumbrado." More at ease, she stepped over and grabbed one of the bags, joining Raphael at his side. "So if I want to know anything at all about you, I ask it and you'll tell me?"
"Maybe," Raphael looked at her smiling face and shrugged his shoulder. "Some stuff I just don't want to talk about, 'kay?
"Okay."
A moment later, the elevator came back down and Raphael stepped out, two large white bags in his hands. What really surprised everyone was when Angie stepped out behind him, a smaller plastic bag in her hand.
"Raphael," Splinter began as he paced back and forth in front of his son, now kneeling on the floor of the ninja master's private room. "I must say that I am somewhat upset by your actions. The only way we have managed to survive is because of secrecy, we cannot give out our location to everyone we know."
"I know that," Raphael began, his hands out as he looked at his father. "Angie isn't going to say anything about us to anyone, I trust her."
"That may be my son, but if you are going to invite a human into our home, it would be best if you check with the rest of us first." Splinter was going to continue with a lecture but was stopped by a timid knock on the frame of his door.
Slowly, the door slid open a crack, revealing a pair of dark brown eyes peeking in, checking to see if it was safe to enter. Smiling, Splinter motioned with his hand for Angie to enter.
"Master Splinter?" Angie walked in and bowed, remembering what Raphael had told her. She kneeled down on the floor by Raphael and gripped his hand out of nervousness. "It wasn't Raphael's fault."
"Please explain," Splinter looked at her as he sat down across from the pair.
"He called me and asked if I would pick up the things Donnie needed. At first, he was just going to come by my place and pick them up but," she swallowed nervously, feeling guilty for her actions. "I told him I would only do it if he told me where he lived so I could bring them by."
"And why is that?"
"I…he told me about all of you the other night and," she squeezed harder on Raphael's hand and stared at the floor. "I know it was wrong of me to trick him into it but I really wanted to meet all of you. I'm sorry," she whispered as continued looking at the mat she was kneeling on.
It was quiet for a moment and the silence made Angie nervous. Bravely she looked up as she brushed her hair from her eyes. Surprising, Splinter was smiling at her.
"Apology accepted child," the old rat nodded. "Has Raphael also told you of the importance of secrecy to ensure out survival?"
"Yes sir," she answered, a little more comfortable now.
"Very well," Splinter stood up and walked to the door. "Then I trust you will keep our secret." Pulling the door open, he waited for Raphael and Angie walked out with him.
Dinner passed with a relative amount of comfortableness. Michelangelo at first refused to eat with his family, still mad at them. But Splinter informed him that they had a guest and it would be rude for the youngest to stay in his room. Reluctantly, he came out but Angie's cheerful personality soon had him talking and forgetting about the events of the day. Of course, his words to his brother's were fairly limited. The only snags in the dinner conversation came when Angie would be talking and throw a few Spanish words into her sentences. She would then have to go back and restate them in English for the confused faces. Several times Raphael could be heard muttering something about Spanglish. Dinner over, Michelangelo volunteered to give Angie a tour of the lair. Quickly, he grabbed the girl's hand and led her out of the kitchen, Raphael not far behind and growling to himself, leaving Donatello and Leonardo to clean up after dinner.
"And this," Michelangelo gave a dramatic wave of his hand. "…is where we train." He smiled at Angie as she looked around the large room with awe, various weapons hanging on the walls, punching bag in the corner, along with other training tools. "Of course," Michelangelo continued. "…I have mastered pretty much all of these weapons; my brothers are far behind me in skill."
Raphael growled at his brother's obvious attempts to impress Angie.
"Which ones do you like the best?" Angie asked Michelangelo.
"The nunchuks of course," he answered her with a large smile. "Want to see a demonstration?" he asked not even waiting on an answer. Quickly he pulled his weapons out and began moving them about, going through a difficult kata he was sure would impress the girl.
Raphael silently walked around his brother so he was now standing behind him. Michelangelo was so busy trying to impress Angie that he became a bit careless. Not even focusing on his brother, he didn't see it coming when Raphael jumped in with two short scrimmage sticks. It wasn't long before the loud 'clack' of wood on wood and the two opposing 'ki-yah's' called the attention of the rest of the family.
Donatello, Leonardo, Splinter and Angie all watched as Michelangelo advanced on Raphael, his nunchuks repeatedly coming forward and causing the larger turtle to back up. Raphael blocked each of Michelangelo's repeated attacks, swinging the scrimmage sticks upwards in a continuous rhythm. Finally, the orange banded turtle aggressively swung both of his weapons towards his larger brother. Quickly, Raphael thrust both scrimmage sticks up in an X formation, catching to the two nunchuks in the vertex of the wooden sticks. With a flick of his wrists, Raphael tangled the chain that joined Michelangelo's two weapons together and moved his hands to grab his brother's wrists. In one swift motion, he pulled his smaller brother forward. Rolling on his back, Raphael flipped Michelangelo over and continued his movement so he was now standing over the orange banded turtle's body in a defensive stance. The two only looked up when applause was heard coming from the side.
"That was incredible!" Angie pronounced as she moved over, Splinter, Leonardo and Donatello a step behind.
"Gracias!" Michelangelo gave a dramatic bow. "Soy bastante grande," he answered smugly.
"Oh, usted habla español también? ¡Eso es maravilloso! ¿Usted y Raphael aprendieron juntos?" Angie looked at Michelangelo and waited expectantly for an answer.
"Umm…." The youngest of the turtles nervously looked side to side, trying to figure out what she said to him.
"He's only just started learning," Raphael answered after the moment of silence. "Grande my butt," he muttered as he walked over to put the scrimmage sticks away.
"Very well done my sons," Splinter spoke out. "Michelangelo you are becoming much more aggressive which is good, but do not rely on aggression alone. You're ability to antagonize and play with your opponent is an advantage for you. Raphael," he turned to the tallest of the turtles. "You are becoming much more patient and methodical in your fighting skills. It was most impressive."
Automatically, both brothers gave a respectful bow and said thank you.
"Now then," splinter continued. "Michelangelo, you brother paid for dinner and Leonardo and Donatello set and cleared the table. I believe that leaves the dishes for you."
Grudgingly, Michelangelo left for the kitchen leaving the rest of his family in the dojo.
"It's amazing that you guys have been living down here for so long and no one knows," Angie observed as she walked out of the room with everyone else.
"We would like to keep it that way," Leonardo stated, giving her a serious glare.
"Don't worry Leo," Raphael grumbled. "She already knows that." He gave a disgusted glare at his grey t, noticing the sweat that had built up on it.
"Hey Raph," Donatello spoke up as he noticed his brother's appearance. "Why don't you go clean up, I'll finish showing Angie around."
Giving a nod of thanks, Raphael headed up the stairs to his room.