Disclaimer: I wish I owned the Turtles. I don't, though. This is very sad to me. Austin and Devon are mine though And Bill and his wife. And Susan.

Before the fic Author's Notes:I've decided to change the rating on this to T, because I don't think it has any real M material in it yet. If I do decide to go a little darker/mature, I'll change the rating later on. But for now, I think T is an acceptable rating. Especially considering what they allow on public TV now-a-days…

Misadventures of the Mentally Unstable

Chapter 2

Italics are Austin's thoughts/flashback

"You're a freak! A goddamn freak and you're no son of mine!" Their father's voice rang through the house. If little Austin wasn't already awake, it would have been loud enough to jolt her from her slumber. But as it was, she was peering silently down the stairs, huddled in the corner where the wall met the railing. She had been waiting quietly for her brother to come home. He'd been gone a lot lately, but had promised he'd be home to see her tonight. The voices from downstairs had told her that Devon was home, but she was scared to go see him. Their father was shouting, and that was never good. Mother was standing on the bottom step gripping the railing. Her white knuckles stood out like ivory against the dark cherry wood.

"Are you kicking me out? Is that what this is, Dad? Are you going to do to me what you did to Susan!" Devon stood a solid foot taller than his father, but lacked the weight and muscle built by long years of hard labor. His grey eyes flashed and he swept his long dark blond hair out of his face.

"Don't you DARE mention that name in my house! She left on her own, and good riddance! You and she have been nothing but trouble the last few years!" Bill Bridger raised a fist as if to strike, but a gasp from his wife stilled his arm. "I never brought up my children like this. I don't know what the hell has gotten into you, but you better straighten yourself out if you want to be a part of this family!"

"There's nothing to 'straighten out', Dad. I am who I am, and nothing you say or do is going to change that!"

"I didn't raise you to be a… a...", the word seemed to die on his tongue, but the anger was evident in Bill's face.

"Maybe it's not me, dad! Maybe it's YOU. You think Sue and I were just going to fit into those pretty little packages that you and mom wanted? Well you were wrong. You drove Sue away, and now you're doing the same to me, just because we weren't the perfect children you dreamed of. And God help me, I'm not going to let you do that to Aust—"

Bill's fist cut off anything else his son might have said. There was a shriek from the petite woman on the stairs and she ran forward a few steps, but was stopped before reaching her son. Bill held an arm out, preventing her from going to the young man now sprawled out on the linoleum in front of the door. Upstairs, little Austin gasped and scooted away from the railing quickly. She had never seen her father hit anyone before, and it scared her beyond belief. If he could hit Devon, would he hit her too? Maybe he'd be angry she was watching the argument when she was supposed to be sleeping. Maybe he'd come upstairs and…

"So that's it, then…" Devon's quiet voice echoed through the silence. "Fine. You want me gone, I'm gone. You'll never see me again."

NO, screamed Austin silently. No, you can't leave me! Please don't leave me! But her words went unsaid, and she scooted back further, until she was just inside the hallway where no one could see. She scrambled up off the floor and ran quickly down the plush carpet, her footsteps making no noise. Practically vaulting herself into bed, she pulled the covers down over her face and closed her eyes. Maybe it was a dream. Maybe if she just stayed here in bed, Devon would come in and kiss her goodnight, and everything would be fine. Daddy wouldn't have hit him, and things were going to be okay, just like they had been. Things would be okay. Nothing was wrong, and everything would be okay…

She repeated those words to herself until at last she fell asleep, her pillow wet with tears. It was an uneasy sleep, and when a hand touched her arm just a few hours later, she woke in a panic.

"Easy, Munchie. Easy. It's just me." Devon whispered softly. He slowly smiled, smoothing over his little sister's tangled brown curls. A light breeze blew in from the open window next to her bed.

She gasped and threw her arms around him. "You didn't leave!"

"Shhhhh, we need to be quiet. Mom and dad don't know I'm here. I came in through the window, Munchie." Her eyes widened. He came in through the window? How? Devon saw her looking wonderingly at the window and explained. "I climbed the tree. Mom and dad locked me out, but I climbed up the tree to come see you. I'm going away, but I want you to come with me, ok?"

Austin blinked at him in a sleepy confusion. It was the middle of the night. Where could he want to go? "I'm not supposed to go outside when it's dark…" was all she could think to say.

"I know, Austin, but this is important. I'm leaving, and I'm never coming back. Mom and Dad don't want me here, so I'm going. Do you want to come with me?" He smiled and Austin could just barely see a dark bruise forming on the side of his cheek. Daddy really had hit him... What if Daddy wanted to hit her too?

She nodded her head and reached out to him. "I want to go…" she said quietly. "Don't leave me, Devon…"

With a smile he picked her up. "Good. I already packed your bag." He leaned down and picked up her little red backpack. "We need to be quiet though. I don't want to take you out on the tree, so we'll have to go out the front door." He adjusted her slightly on his hip and peeked out her door down the dark hallway. "Let's go, Munchie. Let's get out of here."

"C'mon, Munchie… wake up!" Oh god, he was calling me Munchie again. He knows I hate that nickname. When I was little, I'd thought it was adorable. Now it was just annoying.

"Go away." I mumbled. Although, my face was buried in a pillow and I had the hangover from hell, so it came out as "Guuu nawwaaaaah". And when I say hangover from hell, I really do mean that. It felt as if the devil himself were tap dancing on my brain with spiked golf shoes. Not the most pleasant way to wake up in the morning.

God, what had I drunk last night? I rolled over onto my back, and was immediately sorry. The tap dancing turned into an all out chorus line, and I groaned miserably, putting a hand to my forehead and cursing the cute guy who'd bought me that last drink. At least, I think it was the cute guy. I really couldn't remember. Maybe a not-so-cute guy had bought me something more and I'd just conveniently forgotten.

"Austin… Austin, wake up! Listen, I gotta go! You're going to be fine. These guys are ok. I was listening to them, they won't hurt you. But I need to get out of here for a bit. I'll try to be back soon, ok? Just don't panic."

I moaned a "whatever", and opened my eyes just in time to see Devon's shimmering form disappear into nothingness. He was always doing that. "I've got somewhere I need to be." Bullshit. He's a freakin' ghost. Where the hell does he have to be that's more important than with me?

My eyes adjusted to the dimly lit room, and I could make out cracked brick ceiling directly above me. Brick. Ok, that was interesting. I live in an apartment building with stucco ceilings. So… either someone redecorated while I was out… or I'm not at home. What was it that Devon had said? I wracked my brain trying to remember what had preceded 'don't panic' and came after "I gotta go!" Damn. Why hadn't I paid attention? Please, oh please, let it be the home of the cute guy. That meant I had some fun last night, even if I couldn't remember it. If it was the not-so-cute guy though… at least I couldn't remember it. There's always a plus side.

I rubbed my head gently with my hand, and was rather surprised when I came across a bandage of some sort. Ouch. And a sore spot above my left eye. The hell? I bolted upright in bed, which turned out to be one of the stupidest things ever done in the history of mankind. The room started spinning, and the pain increased tenfold in my head.

"Dumb, dumb, dumb!" I chastised myself and grasped the sides of my head, clenching my eyes shut. God, I'm an idiot…

"Hey… uh… are you ok?" I jerked my head up at the sound, and opened my eyes. There was a giant green blob standing a few feet away from me. Giant green… turtle?

In a moment of astounding clarity, the events of the previous night seemed to unfold in my mind. Bar. Cute Guy. Drinks. Cute Guy ditches me for Gorgeous Girl. Walking home alone. Robbed. Dead Brother. Manhole. Turtles. Blood.

"Oh god…" I stumbled out of the bed clutching my stomach.

"Hey! Don't get out of bed ye—"

"I'm gonna be sick." I stated it so matter-of-factly that it took the turtle a moment to catch on.

"You're wha--…. Oh.. Oh!" With startling speed, he rushed over and grabbed my arm, pulling me past a white sheet and out a door. "Bathroom. This way."

Half of me was still trying to grasp the concept of a human-sized talking turtle. The other half of me heard the word 'bathroom', and decided to push all other thoughts out of my head. I stumbled along, willing myself to not throw up all over this nice turtle-man who was helping me to a toilet. I idly wondered if he was going to hold my hair for me too. Nice guys do that.

In just a few seconds, the turtle was pushing open a door, and guiding me to the shining white porcelain beauty that seemed so inviting at the moment. I hugged that baby for all it was worth, and when I was done, I was mildly satisfied to note that yes, indeed, he had pulled my hair back from my face, and was still half supporting my weight with his arm. He was a nice turtle-guy after all. Well, Devon had told me not to panic.

Right at the time I was reaching up to flush the unwanted contents of my stomach down the toilet, I realized there was someone showering not more than three feet away from me. There was a sudden cry from the shower when the surge of cold water came pouring through the pipes, and a gruff voice yelling, "Goddammit, Mikey, I told you that isn't funn—…" He paused and I looked up to see another green face peering out at me from the side of the shower. "Oh."

"Hi…" I waved weakly and rested my forehead on the rim of the toilet, ignoring the pain that went shooting through my head.

"Can you stand up?" The one kneeling next to me asked softly.

"I'll get up and dance the hula for you, if you can make my headache go away…" I muttered.

"Um… I can get you some aspirin. That's about it."

"If that's all I get, then you'll have to help me up."

A hand patted my arm gently. I looked at it with interest. Three fingers. Hmm. Why not? "I'll go get some. You stay right here in case you feel sick again."

I could sense him standing up and turning to go, when the voice from the shower stopped him. "Uh, Don? I'm trying to shower here."

Don apparently wasn't that concerned. "Yah, I'll be back soon, Raph. Make sure she doesn't move too much while I'm gone." And he left.

"Right…" The turtle glared at me for a second, then closed the curtain and went back to his showering. Thank god he didn't sing in the shower. I don't think my head could have handled that right now. The falling drops of water already sounded like Niagara Falls to my sensitive hearing.

Don was back in just a few minutes with a glass of water and some aspirin. He helped stand me up and let me rinse my mouth before downing the aspirin. God, I hoped it would help dull the pain. If not then I was going to… well… have to deal with the pain. But I wouldn't be happy about it. As he was helping me back toward the direction of the wonderfully soft bed I'd just vacated, two more turtles met us along the way. Good lord. How was I going to keep them all straight? Don. I could remember that. The one in the shower… what had he been called? Ralph? ….that's a silly name for a turtle. Although I wasn't one to speak. Mine had been named Mr. FluffyButt. I was four. It seemed like a good name at the time.

"Hi!" One of them said rather cheerfully. I hated cheerful people. At least… I hated them when they were cheerful, and I was feeling like I'd been shit out of a rhino's ass and drug across a desert wasteland before being painfully dropped back into my bed. Yah. I wasn't in a good mood, but it probably wasn't polite to show it, since Don had been rather nice to me so far. "I'm Michelangelo! But you can call me Mikey."

"Michelangelo…?" I asked warily. "Love your work. The chapel thing was awesome." I noticed that 'Mikey' was wearing an orange bandana around his eyes, with which he was now giving me a slightly confused glance. The one next to him was wearing a blue bandana, and turning to look at Don, I could see his was purple. Hmm. It looked like they must have trouble telling each other apart too. The one in the shower was naked. Looks like I'd have to wait to see what color he wore.

"My name is Leonardo." Said the one in blue, interrupting my thoughts. I stared at him for a moment then looked back to Don, something clicking in my still foggy brain.

"Don. Donatello, by some chance?" He grinned and nodded. Great. I was surrounded by giant artistic turtles. Even my mind wasn't screwed up enough to think of this on it's own. So either these giant turtles were actually real… or someone slipped something into my drink and I'm majorly tripping. I'm not quite sure which it was, but I was leaning towards the drugs. Devon said 'don't panic.' He had better get his dead non-corporeal ass back here soon.

"And you're Austin Bridger..?" Leonardo asked carefully.

Damn. How'd he know my name? I reached for my back pocket, but before I could even get my hand behind me, the blue-clad turtle in front of me held out my driver's license. "That's mine." I said dumbly. Oh, way to go. Show them how bright you are. I stretched my hand out and took it from him, staring at it blankly before sticking it back in my pocket. "Yah… I'm Austin."

Leonardo nodded slowly and pointed to a couch a few feet away. "Why don't we sit down and talk?" I hadn't noticed it until now, but we were standing in a sort-of living room. Brick walls all around, just like in the room where I'd woken up. The couch was an interesting shade of periwinkle with stains from god knows what, and a multicolored throw over the back. I liked it instantly. It looked nice and comfortable and well-used. …It looked like my couch. In fact, it looked better than my couch. Damn. These turtles have nicer stuff than I do. That's messed up. I must have been staring at the couch like I'd never seen one before, because Leonardo waved his hand in front of me when I didn't answer. "Austin?"

"Uh…." I blinked away the fuzziness that had started to cloud my vision and looked over at him. "Yah. Talk. I can talk." Yes, Austin's brilliant vocabulary strikes again.

"You probably have some questions about us. We'll answer them as best we can."

Donatello led me to the couch, and sat me down on one end. I curled up with my feet under me, hugged one of the lime green throw pillows to my chest, and stared at them with rather wide eyes. I imagined that I looked kind of creepy, all bug-eyed and shit, but they'd just have to deal. I'd had a rough night. And today wasn't shaping up to be any better.

After the fic Author's Notes: I know I didn't come outright and say why Bill Bridger disowned his son, but I think that it can be figured out from the hints. If not, then I'll just come out and say it right now. Devon is/was gay. As for Susan, her story will be re-visited later on in another flashback, seeing as how it directly affects Austin. And that's all I'll say about that for right now.

This story was originally just going to be a few chapters. But now as it's going along, I'm finding more and more that it looks like it may very well turn into a novel-length story. We'll see how things go. One step at a time. Hope you all enjoyed, and will want to tune in for more!

Notes to my Reviewers:

Sassyblondexoxo: A RenFaire (Renaissance Faire), is kind of what it sounds like. Bunches of people getting together, dressing in medieval/period clothing, and having fun. There's lots of booths for people to sell crafts like jewelry and weapons, paintings, chainmail, all sorts of cool stuff. And there's lots of food, and dancing and singing. Some faires have archery contests, and jousting tournaments and the like. It's hella-fun. The one I'm attending will be at the coast, and my roommates and I are dressing the part. Or… well.. my roommates are. Unless I get a dress finished, and something made for myself, I'll be attending as their anachronistically displaced friend (i.e. time traveling companion). –grin-

Anyway, thanks for the review, again. As I stated way up above, I've decided to change my story to a T rating for now, because there really isn't much M content. Yet. I just wanted to play on the safe side, but if I carry things into the darker more adult realm, I'll change it back in the future. I hope you enjoyed Austin's little waking up scene, and there should be more in the next week or so!

Dierdre: Here you go. More story to drool over. –happy smile- This is my longest chapter so far, and honestly, it took the least amount of time to write. It just kind of flowed out, and seemed to work just the way I wanted it to. Hopefully the future chapters will be as easy to write!