I Don't Own the TMNT

A/N: Another chapter that was freakishly hard to write, though for diferent reasons. The main one is that I'm revealing what has been hinted at, and I'm afraid that I did it wrong. No matter how I tweak it, it always seems too shallow and weird. However it is one that I had planned on doing for a while.

There is some R/L segments at the end, and I even worry that these will be seen negatively as some are bad and some are personal. Now, I also acknowledge that I have issues with paranoia and not thinking highly of my skills when I'm between a bout of frequent attacks so, I'll leave it to your judgement lol

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Smoke. Dirt. I choked on it.

The crack of gunfire. The little girl. My knees go weak. The phone ringing. Panic.

Dan!

Surreal. I'm in my fatigues, in the dirt. Is that gunfire around me? Does it matter? Really? I'm vulnerable. I open my eyes and I see them, both of them. Their eyes. Their fucking eyes. Both brown, cold and dead. Looking at me. Panic fills me.

I choke again.

The flames dance before me, my arm burns, yet his screams fill the air, drowning out the roar of flames. So unlike her silence, until the end. Yet these flames, all consuming. The roar of them mixes with the others, with his scream, the gunfire, the body hitting the floor, blood and brain matter splatter.

I can't fucking breathe.

Then the handsome face of Shitface appears before me and suddenly I can't move. My fists clench but it's useless His hands start to approach my body and a fresh new panic seizes me when I realize that he's going to touch me. Again. Bile rises in me. The breathe freezes in my lungs. NO!

Then he's beside me, envelops me with his presence. The death seems to fade, her face fades. I turn to him. I can't see the dancing flames, the blood. His arms surround me. I can't hear Deveraux anymore. My body leans against Mike. He is strong. I feel his hands trace my back. Everything else fades.

Maybe everything will be okay...

It takes me a minute to realize that I'm no longer dreaming. They aren't really here. I'm not really there. And I really am in his arms, lying in bed.

Which means that I'm safe.

Yet the aftershocks of the dream still reverberated my very being. I can still smell the damned dirt, the smoke, the gunpowder. My body tightened reflexively, fists balling. Fucking damnit, but my eyes burned with threatenig tears. I can't do this. How much more of this shit do I have to take? I don't want it anymore! Before I would have just drank, drank until my brain was too clouded to think about ending it all, not thinking period. But now? Fuck I want it!

Letting go of my last shudder, I felt his arms tighten around me, pressing me closer to him, like icing on a cake. Something in me melts. My thirst fades. Fuck yeah. Somehow him trapping me with his body seemed to let it do the opposite. With a sigh, using his bicep as a pillow, I snuggled against his plastron. Strange, originally I thought it would be harder or colder, but his plastron is gloriously warm and, though stiff, more flexible than you would think. I rested my hand on it, feeling the strong heartbeat.

I've never liked snuggling a day in my damned life. But with Mike it is fucking awesome.

Silently I felt him stroke my back, my body slowly getting loose and relaxed in a way that I never did coming from a dream like that. Not even vodka came close. This is something that only seems possible with him. His thick, muscular thigh is hooked around my legs. Again, something that would normally piss me off, again, something that with Mike feels fucking awesome.

I felt a familiar heat start to pool in my lower pelvis and welcomed it. Perfect way to chase away the last vestiges of that fucking dream. Slowly I stretched my body against him. Damn the friction that it made felt fucking amazing.

Yet he doesn't take the fucking cue. Instead he clears his throat a little hesitantly. "What do you dream about?"

He had never asked me this before. The simple question made me tense. I never told anyone about my dreams, not really. Just the thought of it brought a fresh wave of fucking panic to me that I could barely stand it, yet I never moved from his arms. So many crappy therapists asked that, but who really fucking cared? I mean, I've never...damn, who do you tell something like that?

Someone like Mike...

Fuck, you're a goddamned genius, Jack.

But look at how much he's done for you, what he means to you...

Fuck me.

Yet the thought of it, for some insanely-stupid-fuck-only-knows reason, when I opened my mough, my belly froze with anxiety and panic and the only thing that came out was "Why?"

Damnit, I snapped at him. Talk about feeling low. Fucking damnit!

His body tensed a little in an uncomfortabe sort of way, letting a moment of heavy silence pass, long enuogh for the unreasonable panic in me to insist that I just ruined everything and he's going to leave or something. Shit shit shit shit SHIT! Then he spoke. "Sorry...just thought that talking might help. You dream like that every night so...sorry."

Fuck now I feel worse. I'm such a stupid asshole. "No, I just...it's..." nothing else comes out, my mind is blank. Wow you have a way with words, Jack. Yet I can't speak anymore, instead I wriggle up a little and put my arms around his warm neck, resting my head beside his. He relaxed and for a blissful moment we just lay there, like all is forgotten.

Then from over his shoulder I saw the window. It seemed the same shade of dusk that it was when we went to sleep. Then I saw the clock.. I sat up with a scowl, digging my fingers into my messy hair. "Are you fucking serious? After all that and I only get a fucking hour of sleep? What kind of fucked up..." I looked down to see Mike give me a cheeky grin from the mattress. I glared at him yet a smile stole at my lips. "What are you smiling at turtle man?"

He laughed. "You've been asleep for over 24 hours."

Well...fuck me. I mean...shit I really must've needed that. And I got it, I stayed asleep because of him. I found myself smiling back at him. "And you've been here the whole time?" He didn't notice the edge of panic in there, did he?

His smile broadened and, still lying down, he gave me a mock salute. "I was the ever watchful guardian, as commanded!" He looked at me, his smile warm and invitinting. My fingers curled in the sheets. Damn he is so cute!

Something that sounded like a giggle but DEFINETLY wasn't escaped my lips and I reached down to stroke his face before lowering my head to kiss him. It deepened immediately and I felt his hand on my neck. It seemed to sear me like a branding iron.

We had never made out in this position before and I loved it. Shifting I straddled him, loving his intake of breath, never breaking the kiss. I thought that this position would be uncomfortable but somehow he looked wider than he felt. My pelvis warmed against his in a new way that made my limbs feel like jelly. It was fucking awesome.

His hand slowly snaked around to the side of my ribcage. Then with infinite slowness, maybe testing my reaction, he trailed his hand up my abdomen, stroking, until making his way to my chest. I inhaled sharply. Shit, that felt good. His hands were so large and roughened by battle, my little tank top never had a chance! He seemed almost to be in wonder, playing with the softness in a way that made me giggle.

I tickled my own fingers up, tracing a line on the thin strip of baby soft skin by his shell that I knew would make him shudder. He made a sound low in his throat and I shifted my pelvis, his moan making-

A piercing sound shot through the air loud eough startle me. The smoke detector. I shifted, feeling him beneath me. Well, fuck the smoke detector! We were busy! A the moment he seemed inclined to agree...until suddenly I smelled smoke.

"SHIT!" Suddenly Mike was out of bed and in the kitchen in an instant, leaving me both crestfallen and wanting to laugh and curse as soon as my lustful brain allowed me to put two and two together. Of course my turtle man would go to the aid of cooking food! Getting up to investigate, I peeked in the kitchen to find him inspecting what I think were meant to be muffins with a giant scowl on his face. He looked at me, clearly upset. Like a hurt puppy. Fucking adorable. "Do you know that it's been over ten years since I've ever burned anything?"

This is fucking hilarious. I gave him a slow smile. "Maybe you were distracted."

He immediately gave me a cheeky smile in return, the sight of him rewarming everything that was zapped out by the smoke detector. I was ready to continue where we left off.

Until I smelled myself.

Holy fuck. Everything amorous drained out of me as I excused my stinky self to the shower, which considering he was suddenly hell bent on fixing his culinary mistake, he was good with. I quickly got undressed and took the bandage off my hand (when the hell did that get there?) and washed away all the crap that happened the past few days. With all that had happened before Mike got here and with all that happened after, the shower felt fucking glorious. I took an extra long time, steaming up the bathroom.

Turns out that Mike had plans for the day. He remixed a batch of muffins (chocolate oatmeal! Fucking amazing!) and watched movies. We watched DIe Hard, Terminator and Mama Mia. The last was harder to keep track of since he insisted on singing along to each song, horribly, to each song. With some impromptu dancing. Bad dancing. This eventually ended in a chase around the apartment, ending with a quick make out session.

He filled me in on how his brothers were doing, though it sounded like he left quite a bit out. He didn't bring up Splinter at all. Yeah, he was leaving shit out alright. Well...fuck it. Right now I was ok with that, keeping things light was just easier. At least for a little bit longer.

BLT wraps for lunch and a cajun chicken pasta for dinner. Witth each meal he seemed to delight on watching me initially sample each meal. My reactions weren't faked in the silghtest and seemed to brighten his whole being. I found myself counting my lucky stars once again that my boyfriend was a fucking amazing chef. No, my boyfriend was fucking amazing period. It was a miracle he put up with me.

Eventually we found ourselves once again on the couch in a comfortable silence, staring at a blank screen, lost in thought. I was half on his lap, leaning against him. He seemed content simply holding me.

I found my thoughts wandering to that morning. Dreams. The one time that he asks something of you, Jack, and you're a fucking asshole. Damnit! Squeezing my eyes shut I took a breath and looked at him. I spoke without thinking. "Do you ever have bad dreams?"

Fuck! Wrong person genius!

Yet he didn't press about earlier, didn't even bring it up. Instead, he just thought for a moment. I felt my heart warming just looking at him. "Sometimes. When I was younger, I used to watch horror movies and scare myself so bad that I would stay up half the night with a flashlight, or sneak into Raph's bed."

I smiled, the picture in my head adorable. Mike as a cheeky little boy. With an equally young Raph. "I'll bet that he loved that." I said with a snicker.

He smiled, the memory clearly playing in his head. "Actually, he was pretty cool with it. He'd either let me sleep with him or he'd take me back to my room until I fell asleep." I blinked at the thought that the hulking hothead would do something like that. Huh. I never would have pictured. Then again their bond is something special in itself. Mike continued. "Then when we got older and something bad was going on, I think that we all dreamed of that a bit." Stopping, he seemed to consider something, then took a breath, suddenly a touch nervous. "More recently, though, I think it just had to do with loneliness." I picked up my head to look at him better, but he seemed to be avoiding my gaze. Something in my chest hurt and I bit my lip. Yet I didn't stop him. "Considering who we are, what we are, it makes sense. I mean, who would want us? Then, when Don had a crush on April, he did all sorts of research. He found that we arn't even, uh, 'compatible' with humans. That, and her leaving with Casey, just seemed to cement it all in, you know?"

The slight silence that followed seemed almost painful. Somehow snuggling deeper, I stroked his plastron. "Cement isn't unbreakable. And you're quite a catch, turtle man." Fuck, suddenly his arm was squeezing tighter, tight enough that it actually hurt a little, but I didn't say anything. Despite it I was so comfortable and actually fucking happy being with Mike that, hearing what he said, I honestly hadn't given his physical situation any thought in a while. But he's had to live with this shit his whole life.

I'm such a fucking douchebag.

Damnit.

It wasn't anything as childish as wanting to take turns, or anything as demanding as quid pro quo, but suddenly I wanted to talk.

It was like I could smell that fucking dirt all over again. But at the moment I had to, I wanted to. Shit fuck. Taking a breath I felt his plastron on my cheek. When I spoke he stilled, waiting, listening. "The terrorists, they would use fucking kids. They would give them explosives and have them go to the Americans. We couldn't really move with our equipment. Fucking damnit...there was this little girl..." Suddenly I could see her face. Before it fell. Before the explosion. So fragile. An innocent pawn used mercilessly. I shuddered, my chest becoming tight, my body reacting. Fuck, not now... A lump formed in my throat and I struggled with it. Why was I reacting like this now? After being so cold and silent for so long?

"Jack..." His voice was soft, his hand stole to my back, the other encirling around. I found myself on his lap, leaning into his warmth, freely allowing him to support me. "Some people are just evil. That doesn't make you any worse."

Worse? I struggled with the word. I had ignored everything for so long, tried to stay away from it. But when I looked at it, when I spoke about it out loud like this...yes. Fuck, yes, all this time. Maybe now still I'm a fucking shitbag for all of this, for all the things that I had done and seen. I mean, shit, she was so little! She was innocent, but she still dropped her bomb. She still died. One of our own was hit with enough shrapnel that he had to be medevaced.

His arms tightened again. "Some people are just evil." It was like he could see into my fucking mind. She was just a pawn. Hell, maybe I was too, in a way. Or maybe I'm just trying to be a fucking copout. Fuck I need a goddamned drink. Maybe twenty of them.

He made soothing noises, not saying a word about the moisture that leaked through my eyes. Fuck I don't deserve this. I don't deserve him. not after everything. Yet I could feel him surrounding me, making me feel safe, but I couldn"t. Not yet. Now that I started this I had to finish. I took a deep shuddering breath. "And there was Dan."

"No, Jack, you don't have to. I was just-"

"No...just...ugh. Please." After a second''s hesitation, he stayed silent, waiting, listening, giving me all the time that I needed while stroking my back.

"His name was Daniel Arroyo. We were friends, we had each others back, he even kept me from getting captured. He taught me how to curse in spanish." I laughed harshly. "He was with me when our vehicle was hit. He was on fire. All over. I pulled him out, but it was too late." My hand unconsciously stole to the part of my arm puckered with burn scars. My fist clenched.

"His face, it was bad. He had no nose, ears, his skin...it looked like melted crayons." I smiled when I remembered, in my delusion, that I had initially mistaken Mike for Dan when we first met. Which made me all the more pissed off. "But it shouldn't havve fucking mattered. His wife should have stayed with him, the fucking bitch should have-" I cut myself off, remembering the day, the guilt of it all adding to the lump in my throat. She judged on appearance, just like people have been doing too Mike for his whole goddamned fucking life. The thought made my blood boil. Mike said nothing, letting me take my time, though clearly he had the same thoughts that I had. Just the supportive silence made me cling tighter. "He was going through bad shit, getting real angry at everything. I was going through my own shit and wasn't paying attention like I should have. So when he told me to get lost, I did." I swallowed. "Then he blew his brains out three days later."

As if someone flipped a switch, hot tears started to flow even as he encircled me with his body, rocking gently. I sat in confusion, my face blank, letting the tears flow. Have Iever cried over him? No, even the day of the funeral, I just stared, numb. Yet here with Mike I was falling apart. What the fuck was wrong with me? His voice was husky when he spoke. "That wasn't your fault, you didn't know."

I should have been there.

"You can't blame yourself. Its not your fault. You cared about each other. Think of how he was before. Would he want you to do this to yourself?"

I pictured him how he was, laughing, making crude jokes. Nope. "He would have called me a cabron."

"A what?"

My lips hitched into a weary smile. "A dumbass."

For a second I thought that Mike was going to say something, something that would make me take another trip through memory lane. I wasn't sure if I could take it. I had just said more about these subjects then I haad in years and I felt raw. Painfully raw.

Instead, perfect fucking boyfriend that he was, he simply stood up with me still in his arms. "I think it's time too go to bed and get some sleep."

I didn't argue as he slowly carried me to the bedroom and I rested my head on his arm, still wet with my tears.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

A/N; So was I right or wrong? Hopefully I was wrong and everyone loved it, if I was right then rest assured that I will keep it in mind in future chapters. PLEASE if you read this, review it!

Also please try not to judge the RL too harshly if you do choose to read it. There are no lies in them. I know that I'm probably overreacting, but every time I try to post the R/L stuff here for all the world to see I feel panic. However I still feel the need to get it out, but maybe to a more selective audience. So if you're interested please let me know in your review and I will PM it to you, where you will probably shake your head and say, 'yup! She was overreacting! lol But I see this as a happy medium. If you have no desire no big deal