Waking up was one of the hardest things Michelangelo attempted to do. Although his mind was awake and aware, his body failed to respond to its demands for arousal. He hurt. He hurt in more places than one. When his eyes finally decided to open, he was slightly blinded by the natural light of the window. The singing of the blue birds and the buzzing screech of the ciadas made it completely clear that the storm finally passed. At least for now.

He swallowed hard, choking at the lack of moisture in his throat. He crushed his face into the pillow, grimacing at the smell of sweat and heat in his fluffy companion. He finally took the time and pushed himself up, placing both feet on the hard cold floor under him. When he tried to stand up, he failed. His body feeling like jelly, his muscles tight and resisting every command he gave. His body refused to cooperate with him. The sting behind him in his lower back the reminder as to why.

What was he thinking? This pain was worse than the first time, worse than any of the other times. The physical pain and the emotional pain consumed him. His father would never believe him. Never.

A single tear fell from his eye, him not even responding to it as it hit the top of his hand. What more could he do? Fueli was going to be the end of him before he could even begin. Unintentionally, his wrist flipped up, showing that dreaded scar. A daily reminder how his life was spared. Maybe it shouldn't have.

As slowly as possible, he stood up. Already out of breath, he reached for the door hinge and stood there for a moment in the hallway. His nostrils picked up the smell of eggs and toast. His stomach growled and twisted into a painful kind of hunger. He took another breath, and used the rest of his strength to make it to the kitchen.

He held onto the door hinge as he saw the strangest set up. The kitchen table was set for two and Fueli using the Stove that Mikey was sure didn't work anymore. As if knowing Michelangelo was standing there, Fueli turned around and looked at him with his good eye.

"Ah, Michelangelo you are finally up. Take a seat, I made breakfast." He spoke over his shoulder before turning back to the eggs. Mikey licked his lips before wobbling to sit in the creaking wooden chair. He sat to end as much as he could to ease the throb.

What was this? This wasn't normal nor was this okay. This man manipulated his father into thinking he was crazy and tried to manipulate him into thinking all of...This...was okay. Mikey wasn't dumb. He knew what he told Fueli that night was all true. He won't be apart of his games. Never.

"I know you must have some questions. You have been asleep for about two days." Two days? Mikey couldn't find the words to respond to that statement. That was far too long and it made him curious as to why he was asleep for so long? Did his father call to see if he was alright? His brothers? Or did they just let him rot? Let him suffer alone in total blackness for two days.

That same burning pit of anger was building once again. He didn't like this feeling at all. He prefered the feeling of fear over the feeling of anger. Anger made you see red, made your head throb and heart race with frustration. At least with fear, there were butterflies in your stomach and although your anxiety was up, you could hide under the covers and even convince yourself that all would be okay. But with anger, you felt nothing but fire. It burned a pit in your stomach and steam escaping out of every hole in your body. Anger was a nasty feeling. It was a confusing feeling to comprehend. It was not like happiness or glee, anger was dark. Anger was frightening. Anger was more terrifying than fear.

While he was gazing out he didn't realize the plate was set in front of him or even realized Fueli had sat down with his own plate, already chowing down on the mixed eggs and crispy bacon with the side of toast. He looked down at the food. He didn't want to touch it, He didn't want to eat it. Anything made by that man was nothing more than what was made by the devil himself. This man was poison. This man was deadly. This man is the most hated man that Michelangelo has ever faced in his life.

"Are you going to eat?" Fueli asked. Michelangelo just looked up at him. His glare, deadly. His glare could burn holes if only Fueli was paying attention to that.

"Well?" He asked.

"Why didn't you just kill me?" He asked, his voice hoarse and thick. With that, Fueli put down his utensils, wiped his mouth with his napkin and sighed. He leaned back in his chair in an almost lazy manner. Then, he smiled. Never once has Michelangelo ever see him smile and it wasn't some warm smile Leonardo would give him or even a snarky kind Raph would show. No, this one was cold blooded. Making a shiver run down his spine.
"My dear boy, you are still of use of me. I know full well you will not try a stunt like that again so we will get back on schedule. And, we will finish what we have started." He spoke. Mikey felt numb to his words. His anger built to a point where he felt almost nothing to his words. He wanted to challenge this mans words oh so much.

"And what if I don''t follow your rules? What if I go and try and tell someone again. You have tried to convince me if I don't keep my mouth shut no ones going to believe me but you were so panicked when I almost told my father. You know someone will listen so what if I just go tell? Will you kill me then?" He didn't know why he was asking these questions in the first place. He wasn't too sure why he wanted the answer either. Or maybe he didn't. Maybe, he just wanted to push Fueli a tad. Just to see him squirm at least once. But that didn't happen.

"You want to know what will happen?" He asked, sitting up in his seat, leaning his head on his knuckles.

"I wouldn't kill you right away. I would hang you by your toes in my backyard and let you watch as I skinned your brothers and turn their skin into a pair of boots and make you witness me behead your precious father before gauging his eyes out and feeding them to the birds. Then...then I would take you down and watch you as you break. I would see that pain in your face because you will realize it was your fault for their deaths. I would lock you in the basement and fuck you over and over again until the blood stained the floor and when they would ask where you were, I'll tell them you lost your mind and killed your entire family and they will find you hanging on a tree somewhere in the forest with a simple note saying 'I'm sorry'." Mikey felt cold. Again, the tears started to come down without him even realiziing it.

"You will not defy me again. If you do, your family will suffer the consiquences of your actions." And with that, he turned back to his food, forking up the eggs into his mouth. Mikey still wouldn't touch his meal.

"Your clothes are clean and are by the front door. Get changed and head home. Do whatever you feel to help your situation with your family. Next week we start training once more." He said taking a drink of his tea. This was his way of dismissing him from the table and that message was clear enough. He took a breath and pushed the chair back. As he started walking towards the door to grab his clothes, he spoke;

"You may have the advantage on me now Fueli. But one thing you need to understand." He looked back at Fueli. "You can hit me, beat, fuck me, and break me in every sense you can. But I will not do your bidding." Was all he said before disappearing to change, knowing Fueli would not come after him

.

The front door was so strange to stare at. Mikey has been standing at the edge of the steps for about 20 minutes. Should he just walk in? It was his house. But would has father get angry? Or should he just walk away? No he couldn't do that. He was sure Fueli already called ahead. He sucked in some breath and tentively knocked on the door. The few moments were so long it was almost unbearable. He jumped slightly when he heard the click of the door. When it opened, Donatello was on the other side. He smiled at me. I wish he wouldn't.

"Mikey! I'm so glad you've come home." He said. Why would he be glad? I didn't want to see his glee nor did I want to hear it.

"Where's father?" He asked quietly. Donnie was taken back slightly by the question.

"Oh, he's in his study." That was all he needed to hear. He quickly went by his brother and straight into the house. All he wanted to do was get this done and over with.

As soon as he reached the door to his father's study, he didn't fully understand his own motives anymore. There was no way his father was going to forgive him for what happened that night. He bit his lip, and opened the sliding door slowly.

"Michelangelo. Step inside my son." His voice was balanced and low. And so he stepped inside with slow movements. Splinter was sitting at his podium with a cup of tea at his side and some papers spread around. I came in and took a seat on the mat in front of him. Splinter watched him carefully, examining his features.

"How are you feeling?" He wasn't angry anymore. Disappointed maybe, but there was no sign of anger anymore.

"I'm fine." He spoke quietly. Splinter didn't respond. Mikey knew he was waiting for him to speak. Licking his lips, he spoke.

"Father, I am sorry for my behavior the other day. I was under influences I could not control. I disrespected you and I disrespected my home." Tearing. That was what his heart felt like it was doing at this moment. Just, breaking for speaking these words so fluently. "I ask for your forgiveness and allow me to make it up to you." He bowed his head. "I am not worthy of your forgiveness but I will still ask for it as I hope you look at me as your troubled child pleading for that gift." This begging it was beneath him. But at the moment he didn't feel any higher than dirt.

'Beg for your life.'

At first Splinter said nothing nor made any saught to move. But then, Mikey didn't expect when he felt the arms tightly wrap around him. His head perked up, seeing the other side of his father's shoulders.

"My son, I can never be angry with you my son. Just please, please, don't ever lose yourself."

Again, those silent tears fell ever so lightly down his face. He lost himself long ago.

Leonardo sat outside the door silently, leaning up against the wall and listening to Michelangelo's pathetic apology. He couldn't stand it any longer. With a quiet growl he pushed off the wall and headed for the front door.

"Leo where are you going?" Donnie asked. Leo turned to look at him.

"I'm going to get some answers." It was all he said before he left the house. Donnie sighed before turning his head to see Raphael standing in the hallway, watching from the distance with remorse on his face.

These games have been played for so long, so many pawns and tricks. Now, this game was going to come to an end.

A/N: Hello my lovelies! Boy where have I've been? College takes up a lot of time and finals are coming up so that's gonna be taking up some time here soon so I apologize for these late updates. But guess what guys?! THREE of my stories were nominated for this years Stealthy Stories competition. Mother was voted for best Michelangelo, Judgement was voted for best Leonardo, and Faceless Fear was voted for best horror ACK I WAS SO EXCITED :D so please my lovely reviewers go on Stealthy Stories and VOTE! But other then that I dont have anything else really but to some of my followers asking about my Disorder story I will get around to updating it as soon as possible I have just not been in the mood to do so. Like I have said before I have been drifting out of the fandom. Sorry Bleach is extremely bad ass right now if you read the Manga. BUT I will update it for sure I promise! Till next time my lovelies (: -F