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.
Comments, thoughts and concrit are always welcome.
How Much is that Turtle in the Window
ch 4
The weeks dragged by as the huge cargo ship crossed the ocean and things didn't improve much. Bradford at least eventually stopped stuffing the gag into Mikey's mouth every time and Mikey learnt to wolf the food down after a few days to get it over and done with since eating slowly just prolonged the torment. Not having much freedom or room to move about in also took a toll on him. Instead of getting used the weight and constriction of his restraints, it slowly became harder to lift his hands. Dogpound became more irritable the longer the journey took and he often took it out on Mikey, beating him over the slightest insult, imagined or otherwise and leaving him covered in a rainbow of bruises in various stages of healing but the good thing was that he left the shipping container more often for longer. He also took to leaving the muzzle loose enough that Mikey could at least open his mouth enough to drink, provided the bowl had enough water in it for him to reach it, that was.
The brand below his left shoulder healed enough in the time that it was no longer agonising, though it still pulled uncomfortably, reminding him of its presence often and worryingly, he rarely felt much sensation from his fingers any more, cramped as they were within the confines of their plaster prisons. While Bradford was out, he often took the chance to try to chip away at the plaster against whatever hard surface he could find in the dark, hoping to eventually break free. If he could, then he'd at least be able to undo the manacles and maybe the chain from his collar and then he'd have a fighting chance. It was slow going and it jarred his hands painfully each time but he refused to give up.
Mikey tried numerous times over the weeks to call out to his father again but his spirits had hit rock bottom between the constant boredom, fear and abuse and he was so tired all the time that he had no real chance of meditating, let alone making it into the Astral Plane. Still, though, he tried and the one time he was caught by Dogpound, he was beaten into unconsciousness due to not being proper 'doglike behaviour'.
Suddenly, the door slid open and blinking against the light as it switched on, Mikey glanced up to see a disturbingly jovial Dogpound entering the prison and he shuddered at the thoughts of what that mood might mean for him.
"Good news, Spot!" Dogpound growled in pleasure, "We arrive at port in just a few more hours. After we're unloaded, we'll have to wait for dark but then a Foot escort will come to pick us up and take us to your new home."
Mikey stared up silently in dismay. He had mixed feelings about that. On one hand, this was all bullshit and he wanted to go home so badly to where he was loved and would be free once more! On the other hand, surely anything had to be better than this existence, right? Maybe? Well, if nothing else, at least it would be different and he would no longer be trapped in close quarters with Dogpound the whole entire time but then he remembered Dogpound's promise of a kennel for him and he shivered. He would still be trapped and treated like a dog rather than the sentient mutant turtle he really was and then there was the question of if he'd even be alone or, he gulped, have company.
"Aren't you excited boy?" Dogpound sneered hatefully. "You'll finally be able to go for walks on a leash and we can start training you to do tricks like any other pet dog."
Mikey's eyes narrowed dangerously. Yeah, no. Not happening. He was ninja, just like the rest of his family and that was something Bradford had already seemed to forget in these last few weeks. His father always told them anything was a weapon in the hands of a trained ninja and it was time to act on that. While he still had the chance.
He immediately stood on his hands and knees and trotted unsteadily over to the empty food bowl, whining plaintively and tapping at it with his plaster paw, pleading with his patented puppy dog eye technique. God, how he hated that term now and as much as he used to take great pride in his skill, he swore that if he ever got out of this, he'd never subject anyone to it again. No, not if he did, when he did. He'd never again do anything that might remind him of his time of being some sicko's pet dog.
"Aww, hungry, Spot?" Bradford asked sarcastically. Mikey nodded emphatically and whined pathetically once more, knowing how when he played along, Bradford was more manipulable. Bradford stared at him, eyes narrowed suspiciously. Then he shrugged. "Fine, I'll feed you since you're actually behaving like the mutt you are for once. Think of it as a reward for tolerable behaviour."
Carefully schooling his expression so as to not alert his captor to his true intentions, Mikey shuffled back a couple of steps, sitting on his haunches in seiza innocently. He continued staring down at the bowl hopefully, keeping a careful watch on Dogpound out the corner of his eye. It didn't take long for the other mutant to approach and crouch down by the bowl to pour the sloppy contents of a cheap can of pet food into it. Mikey tried not to shudder at the smell and consistency of the food and instead bided his time carefully, waiting until Dogpound was as distracted as he was likely to get. Then he launched himself, pouncing at his tormentor's head. Mikey immediately wrapped the chain connecting his left arm to his leg around Dogpound's throat and pulled, squeezing tight with everything he had.
Bradford roared!
He reached up with meaty paws to pull Mikey off but Mikey simply pulled tighter, using his shackles against his captor with everything he had! He'd trained with chained weapons for more than half his life, they were his forte and he wasn't willing to allow them to be used against him any longer. Channelling his inner Raph, Mikey growled fiercely in determination. He pulled and twisted the chains tighter and tighter until he could hear Bradford choking and then refused to let up. Elation filled him as he felt Bradford slowly weaken beneath him but then, right at the cusp of Bradford falling, he saw the remote clutched weakly in his tormentor's hand. Mikey's eyes snapped wide in fright but before he could even try to knock it from his grasp, Dogpound pressed the button. Electricity surged through his collar and Mikey screamed in pain and frustration.
No! He couldn't lose now! Not when he was so close! Desperately, Mikey fought against the collar to keep pulling but far too quickly, he lost control of his body. The surge finally ended and still twitching and unable to move, he became dimly aware of Bradford's grasp on his arm. Before he could open his eyes again, there was a vicious twist and a loud crack. Then, crying out in agony once more, Mikey felt himself flying through the air.
-:-
"You... stupid... little mongrel!" Dogpound snarled breathlessly when whimpering in pain, Mikey's eyes opened at last. "Are you trying to get yourself killed?"
'What would you care, anyway?' Mikey panted silently with an unfocused glower. He shifted, trying to push himself up and cried out at the excruciating pulsating in his broken left arm. Mikey couldn't immediately decide which was worse, the pain of the freshly broken limb or when he'd first been branded.
"Can't believe that you, of all people, just tried to kill me! Me! The hand that feeds you! We're still out at fucking sea!" Dogpound yelled hoarsely, rubbing carefully at his tender throat.
'So what?' Mikey sneered mentally, staring up at Dogpound defiantly as he continued to pant in pain. 'You said yourself the ship will reach port in a few hours or so, dude. It's not like I'd have to survive long without you and I'm sure in that time I could finally have cracked through the damn plaster on my hands!'
Bradford narrowed his eyes at Mikey and growled at the defiance he saw. He stomped close and viciously slammed Mikey's head into the wall again. "Do you know what the Foot would do to you if they discovered you'd murdered me?"
Trembling in pain and not a little fear, Mikey worked to push himself up again once he'd been dropped. 'Couldn't be much worse than what you've already done,' he moaned to himself petulantly.
"Well, now you're about to find out just how much worse I can make things for you," Dogpound snarled, pushing Mikey back down with a heavy foot on his plastron. Then with a sneer that made Mikey's blood chill, Bradford lifted his foot and instead stomped it down on his broken arm, grinding it into the ground.
"Stop!" Mikey screamed in agony, the word surprisingly clear despite the muzzle still strapped tightly to his face. Then the collar kicked in again and it was all too much.
-:-
Mikey shot up, choking and gasping at the acrid stench filling his nostrils and cried out softly as pain ripped through him at the sudden movement. As he blinked muzzily up at Dogpound who towered over him, he realised the cruel villain had taken the opportunity of him being out cold to tightly replace the muzzle after stuffing the rag back in his mouth. It was so tight now he was sure he felt blood trickling slowly down the straps.
"Get on your feet and walk mutt" the other mutant growled, reaching out and snatching the chain attached to Mikey's collar, "or I'll drag you to the damn truck."
Terrified he'd do just that and wind up choking him again, Mikey struggled to do as he was told. However, he couldn't put any weight on his left arm. Instead, he tried to cradle it as close to his plastron as possible, crawling on just the two knees until Bradford angrily yanked him down again with the leash, choking him yet again.
"All fours, Spot," Bradford sneered hatefully as he kicked him hard in the side.
Mikey let out a strained sound of complaint and worked to pick himself off the ground again. Completely unable to use his left arm, he had to make do with just the right, dragging the left along the ground and as unused to the position and crawling as he was, he couldn't move fast enough for Dogpound's liking. He kept over balancing, slipping and falling and so Bradford was as good as his word and simply started dragging Mikey across the sharp gravel surface of the road, choking him the entire time and it wasn't long before he lost consciousness for the third time that day.
-:-
He awoke with a jolt to that awful sharp stench again, smelling salts, he dimly realised, only to feel meaty fingers digging painfully into his face, the tips of vicious claws breaking his skin as he was lifted into the air. Mikey stared with terrified, pain-clouded eyes into Dogpound's hate-filled ones and swallowed uncomfortably.
"Let me tell you how this works from now on, Spot," Bradford growled menacingly as he squeezed tighter, eliciting a sharp intake of breath from Mikey. "You are now nothing more than a dumb animal and you will act as such! You will no longer show any signs of human-like intelligence or behaviour, like nodding, for example. The researchers at the compound are all very eager to find out how you tick but have been warned you are off-limits. For now." A terrible smile stretched across the mutant dog's face. "However, if word somehow gets out that you are more than the dumb animal you appear to be, they have full permission to play with you to their little black heart's content, as long as they don't kill you."
Mikey shuddered and whimpered softly in terror and Bradford paused and smiled again, the malice in his expression chilling Mikey to the core.
"They are very good at their jobs," he warned. "They are more than capable of keeping a subject alive and awake while opening them up to see what's inside. So if I were you, I'd curb any and all remaining human-like behaviour from this point on. For your own sake, of course." Bradford then dropped his volume to a menacing growl. "Do you understand me, Spot?"
Making desperate affirmative noises, Mikey nodded frantically as best he could and Bradford shifted his grip so the claws dug in just a little deeper, drawing more blood.
"I asked if you understood me!" Bradford roared, throwing Mikey to the bed of the truck.
Unable to help himself, Mikey cowered down, incapable of meeting his tormentor's gaze as he whimpered in fear.
There was silence for several long moments and then Dogpound slowly smiled, "Much better," he purred in delight. "You would do well to remember that submissive behaviour towards your masters and alpha, but don't fear, Spot, I'll help you out once we get there."
Involuntarily, Mikey's eyes flickered up to see the cruel grin widening on Dogpound's furry face once more.
"I'm sure you're worried about accidentally speaking and giving yourself away? Yes? Well, worry no more. As soon as we arrive, you're going to see the vet. She'll take care of that broken foreleg of yours along with any other injuries and while she's at it, that pesky little speaking problem you still have."
The panic at those words bubbled up in Mikey but before he could protest, the vehicle ground to a sudden halt, making him slide forward out of control and he yelped as his arm jolted painfully. Dogpound smirked down at Mikey and snatched up the chain, detaching it from the wall.
"Home at last. Aren't you excited, Spot?"
Mikey whined fearfully again. No, no, he was totally not.
Suddenly, the truck door flung open and Mikey cringed back from the faint light of the rising dawn and the dark, menacing ninja surrounding the vehicle. Bradford jumped from the bed of the truck to the ground below.
"Come on, Spot, let's go!" he laughed evilly, tugging harshly on the lead.
Reluctantly, Mikey edged his way to the door, staring down in trepidation.
"Jump, boy!" Bradford commanded, impatiently tugging at the chain again.
He had to be kidding, right? His arm hurt all the more just thinking about it. Mikey whimpered and shook his head emphatically. He couldn't! He couldn't do it!
Dogpound growled a warning and Mikey swallowed nervously at the reminder. Then he edged forward again, before turning around to slide to the ground backwards.
"Front first, Spot, or would you prefer being handed over for research before even seeing your new home?"
Mikey froze and then did as he was told, jumping down front first. As he landed, a fiery jolt shot through his left arm and with a yelp, he collapsed, his vision whiting out. Then Bradford simply dragged him once more.
-:-
When Mikey woke for the fifth time that day, it was to find himself laying awkwardly on his left, on a large, shining, cold metal table. He tried to push himself up, only to be shoved straight back down. Twisting his head, he peered up to see Dogpound leering cruelly at him and despite the discomfort, he hunkered down more, curling up to protect himself. After several minutes, unable to curb his curiosity any longer, he peered fearfully around the room from his position. Vet surgery, he quickly realised with a rising panic, just like Bradford had promised.
Suddenly, the sound of a door sweeping open from behind caught his attention and shaking, he tried twisting to see what new threat approached but Dogpound had a crushing grip on his right shoulder, keeping firmly him in place.
"So this is the strange new animal you brought from America!" A bright, delighted voice rang out, making him shudder involuntarily at her eagerness.
He heard her excited footsteps rush closer. "You have no idea how much I've been looking forward to studying one of these creatures ever since I first heard the rumours of them!"
Dogpound grunted. "Well, with how often the stupid mongrel keeps forgetting his place, you'll probably get your chance sooner rather than later."
Mikey couldn't help the small whimper of fear at the not-so-veiled threat and he heard an amused chuckle from above him.
Just then, a small but strong-looking Asian woman in a white lab coat appeared in front of him, her eyes hungrily examining his form. Her expression turned unimpressed and Mikey cringed. She looked up scathingly at Bradford.
"What the hell have you done, Chris?" she demanded angrily. "He looks half dead!"
"Spot deserved it. He tried to kill me yesterday."
The woman snorted derisively. "This little thing? You're more than twice his size. Almost three times, in fact!"
Bradford scowled and dug his fingers into Mikey's shoulder harder, causing him to yelp in pain again. "Damned mongrel tricked me, took me by surprise," he explained sourly.
"By the look of his physical condition, I can't say I'm surprised he turned on you," the woman retorted as her eyes hungrily examined Mikey, making him feel like a piece of meat laid out on a chopping board. Suddenly, her gaze faltered at his lower regions and she canted her head thoughtfully. "It is a he, isn't it?"
"Assume so," Dogpound grunted dismissively. "Not like I ever saw him go to his pit."
Mikey flushed at the reminder of sometimes having to hold on for hours until his tormentor either left the shipping container or the lights were out and the room filled with deafening snoring.
"Just do what you gotta do to patch him up so I can take him to his kennel already. Oh yes, I also want his voice box removed while you're at it," Bradford sneered sadistically.
'No! You can't do that to me!' Mikey whimpered in terror. Even if he couldn't speak, at least the sound of his voice was a comfort, making him feel not quite so alone and it always had been as long as he could remember. How was he supposed to survive this place without a voice?
The vet gave Bradford a sharp look. "Why bother when you already fitted him with a shock collar. An unusually powerful one at that, if I'm not mistaken."
"Spot's a slow learner," Dogpound snarled, digging his fingers hard into Mikey again.
The woman sighed and reached out to examine Mikey's collar, her warm fingers brushing against his neck. "No, I can't do it," she said flatly. Dogpound growled menacingly but she wasn't impressed by his aggression. "You should have had it done in New York, before making that collar impossible to remove. With that in the way, I cannot do as you ask."
Careful not to let anyone see, Mikey sighed inwardly in relief.
"Besides, I have a far more elegant and simple solution," she offered with a smile. Mikey's eyes flew open again and he stared at her as a chill ran through him.
"Yeah? What?" Dogpound grunted.
"I can paralyse his vocal cords with a simple injection I helped develop a few years ago. It works on both humans and most animals and considering Spot's characteristics, I have no doubts about it working on him too."
Dogpound frowned as he considered. "Does it wear off?"
"Oh no," the woman chuckled, making Mikey tremble in fear. "It's quite permanent, although it can be reversed if you have the antidote but I assure you, since it's a drug developed by the Foot, no one else has the cure. It's come in quite handy for operations in high-density population areas where you can't risk anyone hearing the screams."
"Do it, then," Bradford commanded gleefully.
She nodded, "First though, I need to treat his injuries." Mikey tried to pull away as she reached for his neck again but Bradford held him firm.
"The collar stays," Bradford growled as she began to unbuckle the shock collar.
"I assume you must have a remote for it then?" the vet asked as she deftly removed it. "Don't worry, I'll replace it after. I need to treat the chafed and broken skin around the metal collar first. Hmm, that's quite nasty, it's starting to become infected."
Helpless to move, Mikey watched as she turned away to grab something from a nearby cupboard. His eyes widened again as he saw a large needle inserted into a bottle. The plunger was pulled and liquid rushed into it. After flicking the air bubbles out, the scary woman stepped close and Mikey twisted his head to see what she was doing. Suddenly, a sharp prick entered the back of his upper thigh and a numbing sensation quickly spread throughout his body. The woman smiled a cool smile at him before looking up at Bradford again.
"You can leave now, Chris."
Dogpound twitched. "And leave you alone with this vicious mongrel?" he asked in blatant disbelief.
"Aw, I didn't think you cared," she mocked. Then, far more seriously, "I'm ninja too, Chris, as well as a vet. I think I know how to handle wild animals, even exotic ones such as Spot. Besides, he's tranked now. He couldn't move more than a centimetre if he tried."
Mikey whimpered fearfully and tried to move, only to discover she was right. His whole body was numb and his mind becoming sluggish, making it difficult to think.
"Leave, Chris. I have work to do cleaning up some of the damage you've caused."
"Fine," Bradford growled, "but don't blame me when he tries to break your neck with his own chains."
She looked down to study Mikey, then said drily, "I really don't think that'll be a problem. Besides, I'm removing the manacles on his forelegs. Or his left, at least. It'll interfere with the placement of the cast when I set the bone."
"Remove them both then," Bradford sneered scornfully as he looked at Mikey in disgust.
Mikey was dimly aware of her gazing at Dogpound quizzically.
"Chains are far too dangerous in that animal's paws. Already decided they had to go the moment he tried to kill me with them. Besides, they're only going to get in the way when he starts his training. Although, that in itself could be rather amusing to watch," Bradford smiled coldly. Then he left, slamming the door and leaving Mikey at the mercy of the woman who drugged him the moment she lay eyes on him.
The woman began moving around him, placing her hands on him and slowly, carefully removing his restraints and straightening him out to lay flat on his plastron on the cold silver examination table. Hazily, he tracked her with his eyes as she finally came up level with his head. She reached down and finally undid the straps of his muzzle, gently pulling it away and then taking the gag from his overly dry mouth. "You poor creature," she murmured at last. "Chris Bradford really doesn't know where to draw the line between punishment and outright cruelty." She sighed, reaching out to examine the cuts in his face caused by the tightness of the muzzle's straps. "Hmm, you have tough scales so they're not as bad as I first thought. Some aloe should help with that though," she mused softly.
Mikey whimpered in pain as he tried to draw away from her touch.
"It's okay, don't fret so much, Spot, I'm here to help you, not hurt you. I'm Mai, by the way."
"Mikey," he whispered hoarsely, feeling as though drifting through a dream.
Mai's eyes shuttered in displeasure. "Hmm, I see what Chris meant. Well, we really can't have that," She turned away and rummaged through an equipment draw. Then, seemingly moments later, or maybe hours, Mikey was having a really hard time telling the passage of time right now, she returned with a large shining metal and leather instrument in hand, making him quiver in fright at the sight of it. Smiling, she held it up in full view of him, "This speculum is normally used to allow for the safe examination of inside horse's mouths but since yours is quite unusually large for a creature of your size, it should do the trick nicely for you too, Spot."
Now shaking in full out terror, Mikey tried to push himself upright, tried to get to his feet and run but he couldn't move and he began to panic. "P-please don't," he begged desperately, his voice faint from disuse even to his own hearing. "I'll d-do whatever you want me to but please don't..." As he spoke, squirming desperately in place, the woman took the opportunity to promptly insert the speculum into the weakly struggling turtle's mouth. To his horror, he felt flat plates pressed against his top and bottom teeth and his tongue before leather straps were tied behind his head, holding the device firmly in place. With tears of fear and indignation forming quickly in his eyes, he could do nothing as Mai twisted the screw knob to the side of his head and forcibly spread his jaw open wide until they ached. Then humming happily, Mai moved away again, returning a few minutes later and holding a large syringe with a long curved needle in hand. Mikey tried shaking her off as it, along with a small dentist's mirror, was inserted into his mouth and down his throat. He tried desperately not to swallow as he felt it shift around as Mai searched. Then, a twist and a jab and cold, thick liquid entered his flesh and he screamed.
-:-
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