Rating: T for occasional language. Also see other warnings.

Disclaimer: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles and all related characters belong to Nickelodeon.

Summary: Bradford has always blamed Michelangelo for his misfortunes and especially for his mutation so when he manages to capture the young ninja, he's going to make sure he knows exactly what it's like. 2k12 AU.

Warning: Warnings for physical and mental torture in this story abound, as well as for implied and highly disturbing situations. Trigger warnings may apply for some chapters. There will not however, be gruesome details. Some things are best left up to the imagination.

A/N: There are now two one-shots set in this universe. 'Nagareboshi' - set the night before chapter 10 of this story, told from both Spot's and Raphael's perspectives and 'Candle in the Window' which is told from Leonardo's perspective and set a month or so before they found Mikey.

Minnie1015: Sorry I couldn't grant that particular wish, hehe. Still, yes, they've been mourning him this whole time. They just haven't really had time or opportunity to focus on it. Even on the ship there were just other priorities. There has been a couple of moments where someone has dwelt on it though. Just after they finally reached the lair, for example, Mikey was looking around, happy to finally be home when it suddenly hit him that Splinter wasn't with them anymore and he felt it his fault :-(

How Much is that Turtle in the Window

ch 40

"Mikey!" Donnie cried, rushing the last short distance to catch him too late. "Are you alright?" he asked anxiously as Mikey shrugged him off and clambered awkwardly onto the bench, using it as a too-large step to climb out with.

{Am fine!} Mikey knocked shortly once he reached the top, his throat aching from his harsh breath. He tried to struggle to his feet again but there was nothing close he could use to lean onto and he was already so tired from his efforts minutes ago and the long, emotionally wrought day beforehand.

"Let me give you a hand."

He didn't want a damn hand! Mikey bared his teeth in frustration and his brother hurriedly stepped back, stung. He immediately felt a flash of guilt.

{So...rry,} Mikey tapped softly, unable to look at that whipped expression any longer.

"It's okay, Mikey. I get it."

Did he? Mikey looked at him sideways as he tried to keep his breathing under control.

"Well, partially at least," Donnie added softly, kneeling beside him. "You're allowed to feel frustrated, hurt and scared and you're allowed to want to do things for yourself." He paused for a moment, then continued, his voice sounding pained. "The trouble is, you can't yet but no one is going to hold it against you, I promise and you'll get better with time. Things will get easier if you just be patient with yourself."

Great but did he have to sound so damn condescending about it? Mikey's expression and resolve hardened.

"All we ask, all I ask, is that you don't push us away, Mikey. We love you and we want to help, however we can," Donnie continued obliviously. "You're perfectly capable of getting around once you're on your feet, which is great progress by the way, but for now you at least need help getting up, especially from the floor."

Mikey bared his teeth slightly again, the air coming out sounding like the hint of a growl. {Can do it myself! Just need... sumthing to lean on.}

"I'm here," Donnie offered, a hint of desperation seeping into his voice.

{I no but... can't rely on u for evrythin'.} Mikey closed his eyes, feeling sick. {Alredy need u to translate for me an' open doors, turn on taps an'...} he hung his head, for the first time not feeling as though about to choke on the thick metal band that was finally no longer there, {evrything else. I don't want...}

"What don't you want, Mikey?" Donnie pressed quietly when he trailed off.

His brothers to get sick of him again the way they always did before he was taken... Mikey shook his head wildly. No way he was admitting that! Donnie would only deny it, regardless of the truth they all knew. {Can u... get a box or table or sumthing up here for me to use, pls?}

Donnie pursed his lips a moment. "Alright, I'll organise something tomorrow if you let me help you tonight. Okay?"

{'k,} Mikey reluctantly agreed, sighing with equal parts relief and frustration.

"Also, if anything's ever too much, you need to let us help," Donnie added insistently as he stood and helped Mikey to his feet.

Once Mikey was on his feet and semi-steady, Donnie fetched the crutches, handing them to him one at a time, allowing him to get his meagre grip around the handles. {Ty,} Mikey tapped softly against the metal panel just above where his right hand sat.

"Any time," Donnie replied warmly, standing close by as Mikey stood there, swallowing uncomfortably and staring towards the passage leading beyond the dojo to their rooms and the bathroom. "Are you alright?"

Mikey flickered his gaze towards Donnie and back to the hallway, still staring in silence. He didn't want them to get sick of him again but at this rate with how he was, it seemed inevitable. Raph already had to fight not to snap at times and then there was that expression on his face when Donnie asked him to stay with Mikey earlier. That definitely didn't bode well.

Donnie reached out a hesitant hand, resting it on Mikey's left shoulder only when he made no move to avoid it. Mikey glanced down, seeing his own orange bandanna firmly in place. Raph had replaced it with a clean one without a word after his shower that morning, having taken the old one and deeming it not worth salvaging, thrown it out. Mikey frowned. Orange was his colour but despite that, he wished he still had the red one as it constantly reminded him he wasn't alone anymore and seeing it instead of that ugly brand was a humongous comfort.

He wasn't alone anymore and like it or not, neither were his brothers and if he wanted to lessen the chances of them getting sick of him sooner rather than later... Besides, their Alpha had already made his decision to bring people around. He couldn't fight that. Not when Alpha always hurts and he was powerless to defend himself.

{Ur new friend can come,} he reluctantly tapped, refusing to look at Donnie.

"Thank you, Mikey. Raph will be glad to hear it. I know he's missed that imbecile," Donnie replied, relief in his voice. "I-I'll introduce you and Casey properly before the memorial."

{No!} Mikey tapped frantically, almost in a panic and having trouble breathing at the thought of that human being so near. {He can com tomorro but keep him away from me. Pls, D!}

It was Donnie's turn to frown. "I'm not certain Casey coming over before Saturday is a good idea, Mikey. You're clearly not ready for visitors other than April."

{I'll b fine,} Mikey insisted, his heart pounding wildly in his chest at the thought. {Just don't let him near me, pls! Promis me!}

"Alright," Donnie replied again hesitantly as he studied Mikey worriedly. "I'll tell Casey he can come around as long as he doesn't approach you. Would keeping ten to fifteen yards away be sufficient?"

{Su...re,} Mikey tapped nervously, fighting to calm his breathing again, lest Donnie try and help him with that again too.

"Well, hopefully, it will give you the chance to get used to him."

Mikey snorted indelicately. Right! Because of course, that was the whole reason he was allowing his brothers' new friend here. He had no intention of getting used to him or eventually letting him near. In fact, he could hardly wait to be able to move properly without the aid of crutches and hovering brothers again. Let that human just try and get near him then! It wouldn't be happening!

"If it's too much though, promise me you'll let us know."

Nope! His vision swam slightly and he quickly began making his way to the bathroom as Donnie kept pace with him. Luckily, he didn't press, just silently held the door open when he went to clumsily push it open himself.

Once inside, he took a deep ragged breath. Then another and another. Finally, his breathing evened out and though he still felt light-headed, he made his way to the toilet, sitting down carefully and leaning his crutches against the wall. Doing his business wasn't easy or fast like this but he still relished the chance to do it in absolute privacy and he felt better about not having to use a sandpit or have help like during the last couple of weeks after the storm destroyed it and injured him so badly.

There, he sat back, leaning against the cistern as he closed his eyes. Sitting there in peace should have been bliss after everything but he still felt uneasy and not just because people were coming around sooner than he liked. Truth to tell though, even a year's time would have been too soon as far as he was concerned but unfortunately, it wasn't like he had much choice. It was unfair for his brothers otherwise and he'd already cost them enough. Not just their father... but also a good chunk out of their lives in having to come after him. Having to find, rescue and put up with his useless shell. He felt sick at the memory of the danger he put them in. It wasn't fair for him to insist they continue to put their lives on hold just because he was too scared and weak.

But... it was so much more than just that.

"Your turn," his Alpha insisted firmly, "that's an order."

He swallowed unhappily as he remembered his oldest brother exerting his authority earlier just that evening.

"That's an order."

He couldn't disobey orders. Disobeying had consequences. Bad ones. He'd learnt that the hard way. Again and again. Time after time.

"That's an order."

He'd thought he was safe with his brothers. Especially now they'd made it back home.

"That's an order."

Obviously, he'd been wrong. They were kinder words and softer tones and meant well but still had the same expectations of obedience. He couldn't fight that. His body was wired to immediately obey now. No matter how ridiculous or insane the order and he hated it.

He hated it so much.

"That's an..."

"You've been in there a long time. Are you alright?" Donnie's worried voice suddenly called, cutting through his whirling thoughts.

Mikey whipped his head up to stare at the door. It was open just a crack, his brother's fingers curled around the frame as he held it just open enough to listen for quiet tapping. He took a deep, ragged breath, pushing thoughts of earlier from his mind.

{Just a mo,} he hurriedly replied as he reached up with his other hand, wiping the back of it across his wet face.

"Okay," Donnie replied, sounding relieved from behind the door. He continued to hold it open with just his fingers poking through the crack, listening for Mikey to be ready.

Once he felt as presentable as he knew he'd get, Mikey struggled to his feet, tiredness from the long and emotionally wrought day dragging him down, turned and clumsily pulled the lever to flush before making his slow, unsteady way to the sink. There he stopped, staring in dismay. {D, water,} he tapped faintly in embarrassment.

Donnie entered the room, the smile dropping from his face as he caught the look Mikey wasn't currently capable of hiding and rushed over, turning the tap on for him without a word.

Mikey, for his part, tried not to cringe under his brother's scrutiny as he washed his hands and struggled to pick up his toothbrush. He waited patiently as Donnie squeezed some paste onto it, then awkwardly worked at brushing his teeth, trying not to think about how it had been done for him once a week by Mai, using the speculum to hold his mouth open safely like he was just some wild animal likely to bite.

To be fair, he probably would have given the chance. It wasn't like he had any other defence as tied down as he'd constantly been. Still, he had preferred the way his teeth felt afterwards compared with the rest of the week.

It was just too bad that she'd never communicated what she was about to do. Half the time, it was just as likely that she'd be using the opportunity to stick something down his throat again.

Mikey frowned and viciously spat out the paste, suddenly not liking this anymore.

He hurriedly rinsed his mouth, then fumbling at the crutches, left, waiting impatiently at the door for Donnie to open it and let him out into freedom.

"You know, it's just us here right now," Donnie spoke up hesitantly as he followed Mikey from the bathroom.

So? Mikey glanced briefly up before reverting his attention ahead so he didn't slip and end up on his face because that was all he needed right now. To embarrass and humiliate himself further.

There was silence for a few moments and then Donnie continued, "Will you tell me what happened between you and Leo earlier?"

Mikey froze in place, heart suddenly racing. He shifted one hand, extricating it from the handle of his right crutch. {Nuthing happened,} he replied quickly, fumbling over the letters in his hurry as he suddenly found it hard to breathe again. Judging from his tone and the expression on his brother's face, however, he wasn't fooling anyone.

"If you aren't ready to tell me, that's fine, Mikey but please don't lie to me," Donnie muttered stiffly. "Raph and I both saw how you were acting when we came back. Something happened and you were terrified of Leo."

{No way! Not of... L...} Mikey frantically tapped, concentrating fiercely as he stared ahead at his bedroom door. {Remembered Dogpound. That's why.}

"I'm sure that was part of it," Donnie replied softly, knowingly, "but from what Leo said, you became scared before the flashback occurred. He said you were gasping for breath."

{Yeh, b...'cuz I... rememberd b'for, then it took over,} Mikey floundered desperately, wanting more than anything to drop the subject. How could he admit to being afraid of his Alpha when his Alpha was his own brother? {I'm tired, D. Plz stop, don't wanna talk about it.}

"Alright," Donnie acquiesced quietly. Mikey was sure he was trying to hide his disappointment. "Where do you want to sleep tonight? Do you ready to sleep in your own bed?"

Turning to face his brother, Mikey's eyes went wide as he contemplated the thought. Bed. His actual, real bed with sheets and soft blankets and a pillow. Other than when he'd been injured and in the infirmary on the Umi Ryuu, the last time he'd slept in a proper one that wasn't a large dog bed or Dogpound's mattress was before he'd been captured. {Hai... b...ut...}

"But you're not ready to be alone yet?" Donnie suggested quietly, watching Mikey with a soft, knowing smile.

{Yeh,} Mikey admitted, hanging his head in shame. {Stupid, rite?}

"Why would it be stupid?"

{B'cuz I'm bein' such a baby. Up 'til u guys found me, I was better off alone so u'd think I'd b ok bein' alone now. Was far scarier when sumone else was there,} Mikey replied so quietly he was surprised Donnie could follow.

Donnie contemplated him a moment, then gently replied. "We're not 'someone else,' and for the record, it's not stupid. It's an entirely different situation from what you're used to now. It's true that before you were safer alone when surrounded by nothing but enemies but now you're surrounded by us, your family. People who love you and would do everything in our power to protect you, even from your own nightmares and inner demons if only you'd let us. You know, everyone is different and so are their reactions to... difficult situations... It's only natural that you want someone safe to cling to now, even if only metaphorically."

{Meta... wotly?} Mikey asked, staring up at Donnie in bewilderment.

Donnie smiled indulgently, "Metaphorically." He spelled it out. "In other words, figuratively." At Mikey's continued blank expression, he tried another tack. "It's a figure of speech. I don't mean you need to constantly literally hold onto someone the whole time, just that you need the reassurance of us being close enough to do so if you need to or want to."

{Oh...yeh… I guess...} Mikey replied reluctantly, staring down at the floor.

"How about I bring a mattress in and sleep on the floor beside your bed? I don't mind and we can do that for as many nights as you need me to," Donnie offered kindly. "I'm sure Raph and Leo would be up for it too if that's what you wanted. We could slowly reduce the number of us in there with you as you begin to feel more comfortable. Or even rotate between the three of us each night if you prefer."

{'k,} Mikey tapped in relief. {Try with u t'nite. Then c. That 'k, D?}

"Of course. It's entirely up to you," Donnie agreed, sounding relieved. He canted his head a moment as he thought. "I'll get the spare mattress from storage. It'll be difficult for you to get there with your crutches but do you want to wait by the turnstiles for me? I'd only be out of sight for about thirty seconds."

Mikey frowned. Where was storage that Donnie had to leave his sight? Wasn't it just the last room off the hallway here? He turned and stared down the corridor, perplexed, then suddenly remembered. When April had been forced to move down here with them for her own safety, they'd converted the old storage room into a bedroom for her and the storage went instead to a chamber just outside the main part of the lair. A room just off the garage. Donnie was right, getting there would be difficult for him right now, especially without the help of his brothers. He was sure he could do it on his own with enough effort but that would take a while and it wasn't really worth it right now when Donnie would only take thirty seconds. The other option was just to wait alone in his bedroom. He wasn't lying earlier when he told Donnie he was tired. This was the first day since before his accident that he hadn't slept through part of the day and his head was really beginning to hurt more again as a result.

{'k, I'll wait for you.}

-:-

Spot shivered violently as he poked his head through the door to his run and blinked in surprise to see the coating of pristine white everywhere. It'd been so cold lately, yet surprisingly, most of the trees were still covered in green leaves. Others, however, had long since had their leaves turn and fall, leaving them bare and exposed, much like himself since last he'd seen Mai. It was hard to be certain of the passage of time when he no longer had words to express it but he felt sure it was about a week ago now; not long enough ago anyway. He glowered miserably at the cold, wet stuff coating the ground. It was no wonder he'd struggled so hard to push the door open this morning. Snow had piled just enough in the night to make it difficult but he'd been determined. If he didn't go before his master came to take him for training, he would suffer from the need to relieve himself all day long. Truth be told, he'd needed to go for hours now but he'd been far too cold to force himself from his inadequate bedding.

He glanced ruefully back at the tatty pile of old carpet and threadbare blankets before baring his teeth in annoyance at his useless paws. After his Alpha and then Three finally left him alone the previous night, he'd done everything in his power to crawl his sore, tired body under the blanket but it was just too hard without hands. The metal paws were too thick and heavy and gave him no dexterity so he'd succumbed to using his teeth to lift the edge. That had been truly disgusting. Spot was sure he'd never get the taste of mouldy old fibres out of his mouth and that wasn't even the worst part. The worst part was that he hadn't managed to get more than halfway beneath so he'd been cold and shivering all night, unable to sleep.

Spot sighed miserably. He was sure the family he couldn't quite picture anymore would tell him not to give up but it would be far easier if he did. It was really cold so if he did his business inside, it probably wouldn't stink the place up too much. Right? But his Alpha would just force him to clean it up, like the last time he threw up after his Alpha purposely made him sick. He could never win.

Why did he have to be out the night he was captured? None of this would have happened if he had been safe at home or if he'd waited for his... for his... the word was on the tip of his tongue and fight as he might against the chemically induced block on his mind, he couldn't remember it. It was just gibberish.

Spot shook his head and growled at himself for being so stupid. It was pointless even thinking about it. He'd lost everything!

He couldn't even picture his family anymore or remember their names.

Or his own... Like always after a treatment, he knew it wasn't really Spot but no matter how he tried, he couldn't remember what it actually was anymore.

He couldn't even think sass at his captors to amuse himself or for mild rebellion due to the lack of words anymore and that was even more frustrating and demoralising, realising that he'd been reduced to the state of a mere animal; just as his Alpha had wanted from the get-go.

Hanging his head miserably, he could no longer remember his Alpha's exact words to him the day they crippled him by welding the paws around his broken hands but he remembered the gist of them, of how his Alpha promised to destroy him. Leaving him as nothing but Spot, a helpless animal masquerading as a dog and desperate to please his masters any way he could so he wouldn't be hurt anymore.

The worst part was that it was working and he utterly despised himself for his weakness.

He'd lost his name, his family, his identity, and his ability to communicate and stand up for himself. It might have been through a combination of drugs and cruelty but he'd completely lost himself. Even between treatments, it had been a struggle to remember, though he'd finally done it a few times. Remembering his true name and his family had helped, given him comfort and fleeting joy. It had given him the strength to fight on and to survive but each time it was all taken away again just a few scant days later and it hurt losing them even more the second time around and worse the third and fourth.

Even now, he vaguely recalled the feeling of freedom, of running and jumping and laughing loudly and often but he couldn't remember how it was possible given that his kennel and the Foot compound were all he knew now. Such thoughts seemed like an impossibility; a fairytale or fantasy and even simply holding onto them like this just made this existence all the worse. They took everything else so why couldn't they just take that too? It would have been far better, far easier to not know anything else but this.

He wasn't sure how much more he could take, though maybe, what with how cold it was, he wouldn't have to worry much longer, especially when he couldn't even get under the blanket on his own. His eyes flickered disinterestedly around his kennel. Maybe he shouldn't fight it anymore. Remembering was a double-edged sword he could do without. It was great until it was inevitably ripped away again and then it was like being stabbed through the gut. It was so painful it just wasn't worth it anymore.

No! Remembering was worth it! He had to fight to remember again! He needed his family! His brothers! His... his... he struggled to remember but the only word that came to mind was Master and he cringed fearfully, the image of his trainer coming to mind, smelling of stale cigarettes, leather, blood and cruelty.

This was his life now and he had to keep going. For the shadowy memory of the family he'd never see again nor likely ever remember properly.

Spot pushed the giant-sized doggy door open again and stepped gingerly out, yelping silently as cold, wet snow seeped through the breathing holes in the bottom of his metal paws. His teeth chattered all the harder and he baulked, not wanting to venture out any further but he had no choice.

He really needed to go.

-:-

Comments, thoughts and concrit are always welcome.

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