"Mikey!"

No answer.

Donatello tried again. "Mikey!"

The sudden pick up of the wind made Don shudder in his spot. This was unnatural, Michelangelo was terrified of thunder storms and rarely left Donny's side if the two were caught in the middle of one. 'Something must have happened.' Don thought.

He pressed on through the terrible conditions rubbing his arms up and down, hoping for some heat to come from the efforts. Beads of rain slapped against his face and body, making it feel as though he had just took a dip in the sewer he'd once lived in.

"Yo, Michelangelo!" Don shouted again, but his voice was lost in the roar of the blustery weather. 'Where could he be? Was he hurt? Why did he leave my side?' These questions kept reappearing in Donatello's mind as he forced himself to continue on.

He expected that Mikey had gone in search for some shelter to wait out the storm, or possibily he was back inside Casey's van, delightfully only watching as the rain poured while he was warm and toasty, away from the wetness.

Don kept telling himself that. Nothing was wrong with Mike, he was just trying to keep out of the storm. That was it. He'd find his brother sooner or later.

Don was hoping for sooner.


Lost in his own version of a nightmare, Michelangelo, cowering in a corner behind a group of garbage bins, listened intensely as members from The Purple Dragon spoke underneath a fire escape.

Having the Purple Dragon in the same vicinity as himself didn't bother Mikey as much as the potent storm occuring in the heavens above his head. Michelangelo had always tried to live up to be as brave hearted as his older brothers, taking part in the action and adventures, which never bothered him. But, against all odds, he was still frightened of the flash of lightening and the sound of thunder.

Many a night he'd wake in the middle of his slumber due to the cracking sound of lightening piercing its way down to the earth. How many times had he secretly walked down the hall towards Master Splinters room, just to sit outside the door and listen to his sensei snore lightly, so that he could feel his own eyelids grow heavy with sleep once more?

It was a curse to still be frightened of a thing that a seven year old child could no longer be scared of. He was sixteen for Pete's sake! And still hiding under his covers when the clouds of thunder tangoed with each other in the black sky.

Although the conversation a few feet away from him was hard to hear, Mike was able to make out the general idea. Dragon Face had orders to attack. Who was to be attacked or why was unclear to Michelangelo.

Another crack of thunder sent jitters up and down Mike's spine. How he hated his situation, being trapped behind a group of his foes, while at the same time caught in a horrid thunder storm. A few more minutes and lightening would surely be sharply stabbing in and out of the sky. What if it hit something close to him? Or what if it hit him?

Hard as he tried, Mikey couldn't rid of the lingering thought in his mind. One of natures fierce weapons was closer to him than he'd ever wished for. And no matter what, in his overly active mind, he saw the condition in two ways. He would either have to face Mother Nature. Or face the Purpe Dragon.