a/n: For Aangel, who wondered if I was going to do any Halloween fics this year. I managed one!
x-x-x-x-x
Mikey stared into the two little voids floating before him. He'd tried several times before, with the same result: he could still see nothing inside the floating white sheet but darkness.
He had been afraid of the dark as a child. No, that was a lie… It wasn't the dark he was afraid of; it was what could have possibly been in the dark that scared him. Anything could have been lurking in that gloom, and his hyperactive imagination conjured up infinite entities waiting to pounce on him should he put a tiny turtle-tot toe out from under the covers.
He'd acquired this little tag-along when he and his brothers had gone to check out an abandoned house. They'd chased off a couple of punks who were trashing the place, and no one had even seen the little spectre until they were halfway home. From the prickling of the scales on the back of his neck, he could tell something was watching him, following him. Raph was the one who finally spotted it.
"Hey, beat it, kid! Ya shouldn't be up here on the roofs! Halloween isn't for a few days!"
"Easy, Raphael," Leonardo chided, taking a gentler tone at the little ghost. "My brother is right, though. You shouldn't be up here. Can we walk you home? Where do you live?"
"Technically, if it was a ghost, it wouldn't be living anywhere," Donatello put in.
The sheeted figure gave no answer, hovering a bit to the right, a bit to the left. It seemed to make an Ooooooo as wind whistled through the empty eye-holes.
The red-banded turtle tapped his foot. "C'mon, kid, at least give us somethin' to work with here…"
Mikey squinted, then got down on his hands and knees to make sure he was seeing—or rather, wasn't—what he was seeing. "Uh… guys? No feet!"
"Uhh?!" was the reaction from all three of Mikey's brothers, in unison, all of them bending or crouching to verify or find a way of denying Mikey's claim, all of them flabbergasted that their frequently overexaggerating little brother was right.
Raph's confusion boiled over into anger, as most of his emotions did when he didn't know what to do with them. "Alright, spook! What's yer game here?" The sheet only swayed back and forth, fanning the flames of the turtle's temper. Raph drew and spun his sai. "You better speak up, Casper, or I'm gonna put a bunch more holes in that sheet 'a yours!"
Leo put a hand on his shoulder. "Wait. It hasn't done anything aggressive yet. Leave it alone unless it does." He turned toward the ghost. "We won't hurt you if you don't hurt us. Why don't you just go to wherever you're supposed to be? We're gonna go and leave you be, okay?" He started walking away, giving Raph's shell a tug to get him to follow suit. The four of them reached the edge of the rooftop, leapt the gap, and broke into a run.
The ghost, undeterred, floated right along with them, keeping up with their increased speed.
"It's still following us!" Don announced after a quick backward glance.
"Split up," Leonardo ordered. "It can't follow all of us!"
The brothers did as ordered, veering off in various directions, over access doors and down fire escapes. Mikey swung himself around the supporting pole of a water tower, down across a series of window ACs, did an impressive swing up and over a flagpole before parkouring his way down to the shadowy alleys below. That surely would have lost it—
But no. Mikey gave a yelp, continuing to run, but looking back over his shoulder at his pursuer. "Why me?!" he threw back at it, but, of course, it said nothing.
He dove into the deepest shadows he could find, using his best stealth techniques and ninja trickery to try to evade the supernatural entity, but it may as well have been broad daylight out for as well as the ghostie kept up. Michelangelo led it down another alley. It had nearly caught up when the area filled with dense smoke. The ghost floated around in circles, searching despairingly when it couldn't seem to find him, and faded out.
Mikey held his position and his breath at the bottom of the manhole ladder for several minutes, then, with no sign of a sheet, stealthed his way along the sewer wall home, taking a few circuitous long-cuts just in case. The pricking sensation had left him, but the feeling of being watched was a long time in leaving.
A shadow suddenly leapt into his path from around a blind corner and shouted, "MIKEY!" in his face. Mikey leapt back with a terrified squeal that went on long enough for Leo to stop his snickering and muffle his younger brother with a hand until he ran out of breath, which, given their turtle lung capacity, lasted quite some time.
"Sorry," Leo grinned, releasing him. "I couldn't resist. Spirit of the season."
"Har, har," the orange-masked turtle returned sourly. "What're you doing out here?"
"Looking for you. Don started tracking your phone when the rest of us made it back and you hadn't. Speaking of spirits, no sign of our little friend?"
"No. Threw a smoke bomb and lost him, I hope…"
"Good. Let's head home, then."
"Good plan… I need some comfort food after that scare! I'm thinking candy-corn and licorice pizza…"
Leo grimaced. "If the smoke bomb didn't scare the ghost off, those pizza toppings would…"
x-x-x-x-x
Back at the lair, as promised, Mikey engaged himself in some nice, calming cooking, or what some might deem as mad science. He donned his oven mitts and took his latest Frankensteinian creation out of the brick oven and to the living area. "All right, who wants some?"
Even with his non-conformist choice of toppings, and the evening's horror movie selection, he didn't expect the shocked, gritted-teeth looks from his bros. "C'mon, it's not that bad…" He tried a slice himself. It was, indeed, hideous, but he wasn't about to let his brothers know that, keeping his poker face on and smacking his lips as he choked down the melty, cheesy licorice.
"Mikey, behind you!" Don said, pointing.
His neck prickled again. He knew what was there even as he turned slowly to look over the rim of his shell.
It wasn't that he was scared. Come on, it was a sheet with eye holes, and the size of a child. It wasn't even intimidating that it was following him around. It hadn't done anything! Well, yet…
It was that he was holding an absolute fiasco of an experimental Halloween candy pizza, and he had a reputation as a coward to uphold.
He shrieked his highest and most convincing shriek, tossing the contents of the pizza pan behind him and all over his three siblings as he "witnessed" the ghostly lair invader. His brothers made sounds of dismay and disgust, covered in candy corn, crust, and tomato sauce.
"Alright, I've had enough 'a this!" Raph growled, glowering as he drew a sai and in the same motion launched it at the white hovering figure. The ghost bent slightly to watch as the sai passed right through it and clanged across the floor.
Mikey dropped his screaming theatrics and gave his hot-headed brother a flat look. "Don't know why you expected that to do anything… It is a ghost…"
"Gonna be two ghosts in here if ya don't shut it," Raph threatened while stalking over to reclaim his sai. "Damn, bent the tip!"
Mikey sighed, nonplussed. "I'm gonna go make another pizza," he said and headed for the kitchen. The ghost looked between Raphael and Michelangelo for a moment, then hovered after Mikey.
x-x-x-x-x
Over the next few days, it was Mikey's little white shadow, following after him everywhere he went. It had still expressed no ill intent; less scary, and more moderately annoying. After some threats of using it for toilet paper, it learned enough to stay out of the bathroom stalls, at least.
Still, nothing said "Ninja Hiding Here!" like a white flag in the dark, eyeholes or no, and while Mikey didn't mind being grounded from patrols for the time being, he was working up some stir-craziness, so it was time to be proactive.
"Donnie," he called from the door to the lab, "Do you happen to know of any ways to get rid of ghosts?" He looked back at his ghostly stalker. Its oval eye holes slanted as though it was sad the turtles were trying to make it go away.
Don hardly looked up from scribbling in his notes. "Well, no. Reports of ghost activity aren't exactly documented science. As far as science is concerned, they don't exist."
"Donnie!" Mikey whined at him, gesturing with both hands at the little spectre.
Don nodded. "I know, I know. We've already seen several ourselves. Just because they aren't acknowledged by the scientific community doesn't mean they don't exist… it just means we'll have to delve a bit further into the realm of pseudo-science to find our answers. A lot of it is going to be hearsay and personal experience… There's hardly any peer-reviewed reports about exorcisms out there. This might be a lead, though… a DIY cleansing ritual, using salt, sage, and garlic."
"I've got all of those in the kitchen! You sure that's not just a recipe for potatoes au gratin?"
"For as much of a life story as I had to scroll past to get to the recipe, I'm honestly not sure, but it's an easy place to start."
Printed-out instructions in hand, Mikey headed straight to the kitchen spice rack, mixing the three ingredients and pouring the powder into one hand.
"Alright, ghost! Time for you to go! Yah!" He tossed the mixture directly over their little intruder, whose usual Ooooo! sounded dismayed, eye-holes looking at him questioningly. It tried shaking the herbs off with its nubby sheet arms, but most of them stuck.
Mikey scratched his head. "I thought that was supposed to make you go. Hmm…" He read further down the printout. "'This mixture provides a medium of temporary ghost-touch ability to all attempting to expel a spirit.' Huh. Okay… So I guess I can touch…?" He reached out at the ghostie, poking it with a finger, pleased and amused when the ghost responded by wiggling and rubbing the spot like the Pillsbury Dough-boy. Grinning wickedly, Mikey reached out all six fingers, hands on either side of it. "Tickle, tickle, tickle!" Its eyes became crescents, and it responded with a ululating OoOOooOoooO! as a ghostly laugh. It flailed its little nubs, turning quick flips in the air, trying to escape the tickling.
"Aha!" Mikey crowed, taking the opportunity to seize the edge of the sheet, and before the ghost could react beyond, Oo?, he whipped it back, revealing whatever held it up. Freed of its confinement, the thing expanded in all directions, popping out demon-like wings, spiderish legs, a dozen eyes, all looking independently in different directions, slime, slavering mouths full of gnashing, sharp teeth, tentacles, and more hideousness, reaching as high as the lair's twenty-foot ceiling. It embodied every single thing Mikey had ever envisioned being in the dark that he had been so afraid of as a child. Then it seemed to realize something and slapped its claws and tentacles across itself, shielding its nakedness.
White as the sheet he was left holding, he spread it out, moving cautiously forward and draping it across as much of the monster as it would reach. All of the thing's eyes and mouths suddenly looked shocked, and it quickly folded and condensed in on itself, fitting once more under the sheet, leaving a slightly disoriented and dizzy-looking little floating ghost once more. Mikey reached out and tugged a corner down so that its eyeholes stopped being diagonal. "Sorry," he whispered consolingly, doing his best to brush the sage and garlic off.
With a sigh, he stalked toward the dojo, waving for the ghost to follow, as if it would have done anything else.
x-x-x-x-x
Leonardo was already there, sitting in lotus, surrounded by lit candles. He opened one eye as Michelangelo and his companion entered and Michelangelo slid the door closed after them.
"Hi, Mikey," Leo greeted placidly, then also gave a bow to the ghost. "And welcome to you as well." He grinned as the ghost gave a little bow in return. "I don't suppose you've come to join me in meditating, so why are you here?"
"Actually," Mikey said, sitting on the tatami beside his brother, "we have."
Leo nodded. "I was wondering if you would think of trying Astral contact. Spirits are notoriously bad at communicating with the living."
"Right. I figured it was worth a shot. If it can't tell me what it wants here, maybe it can from the other side." Relaxing and breathing evenly, Mikey slipped into a trance while the ghost floated nearby. Only a couple of minutes had passed when he came out of it again, disappointment gracing his face.
"What's wrong?" Leo asked. "What did it tell you?"
Mikey snorted. "Nothing, just kept saying, 'Boo.' Maybe that's his name." He looked to the spectre for confirmation, and the eyeholes only stared back at him.
Leo shrugged as Mikey got up to leave, little sheeted figure trailing after, as always. Intrusion gone, he went back to his meditations, but a moment later, something caught his nostrils. "Why does it smell like garlic in here?"
x-x-x-x-x
Sighing, Mikey declared his ghost problem-solving for the day over. Looking the spook in its voids, he put his hands on his hips. "What're we gonna do with you, Boo?"
Raphael, working out on his weight bench nearby, called over, "Why don'tcha give it one 'a your experimental pizzas? That'll have it floatin' for the hills!"
Mikey stuck his beak in the air. "My pizzas are all culinary excellence! Your plebian taste buds just aren't refined enough to appreciate them!"
"I take it back, the ghost's a perfect taste-tester. After all, your pizzas can't kill it!" Raph guffawed.
With a harrumph, Mikey wrapped an arm around the ghost's supposed shoulders, guiding it away toward the couch. "C'mon, Boo. We don't need this kind of insult!"
"What kind do ya want? I got plenty!" the hothead hollered with a smug grin, but was ignored for it.
Mikey plunked down on the couch with a sigh. Boo hovered nearby as the haunted turtle plugged in his game system and started playing a platform shooter. It watched the TV array for a while, then seemed to shift its attention to Mikey's hands and expression, and finally, took in the second controller lying on the coffee table.
The game pinged and a message popped up on the screen that "Player 2 has entered the game!"
"Uh?" Mikey said in confusion, then looked over to Boo, the second controller grasped in his hand-nubs. "Oh, you wanna play too, huh? Here… It's X to jump, A to shoot, Y to switch weapons." He looked back to the screens. "Hey, you're doing pretty good at this!"
"Ooooo…"
After an hour of play, Michelangelo paused the game to fetch a drink. When he returned, Boo was 'sitting' on the couch, bouncing his controller in his hands as he waited, eyeholes joyful inverted crescents.
"You really like the game, huh? You wanna pick out a different one now?" Mikey slid out the boxes with his game collection and let the spirit make a selection, this one a multiplayer racing sim which Boo seemed to do exceptionally well at.
"Wait, so… all this time, you just wanted someone to play with?"
"Ooooo…" said Boo.
"You were bored, huh? Hanging out in that old, empty house, all alone, with nobody to play with?"
The sheeted head nodded.
"I get ya. Sometimes my bros don't want to hang out with me either. It's nice to have a friend to pal around with. You can stay and play all you want, as long as you keep the noise down and obey all the house rules, and share the TVs. Okay?"
The little ghost dropped the controller on the couch and cuddled up to him for a hug. It was cold as the grave and made him shiver, but he felt all warm inside.
"Aww. You're welcome, buddy! C'mon! I'm gonna kick your sheet at this one!"
x-x-x-x-x
Later, Mikey's three brothers came to collect him to go on patrol. "Seems like you've ironed everything over with the sheet," Leo smirked.
"It's a good thing, too," Don added. "I still can't pick out any actual information on ghosts versus falsehoods…"
"I dunno, guys," Mikey said with clear trepidation. "We still might have to exorcize him…"
"An' why's that?" asked Raph.
Mikey waved his hands above his head. "Because he's beating all my high-scores!"