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

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: [ ] is translated from Japanese.

I know 'SnO' was meant to be updated first but due to being busy with other things (read: lazy) and the fact this chapter was more ready to go, I updated this first.


How Much is that Turtle in the Window

ch 7

[This is the creature you want trained?] a voice asked in patent disbelief. Twitching slightly, Mikey struggled to open his eyes to see who was talking but the effort was far too much and they utterly refused to open.

[Dog,] Bradford immediately corrected.

[Of course,] the stranger's voice sighed in annoyance.

[I want Spot given advanced obedience training until he obeys any command without hesitation. Do whatever you need to to accomplish the goal, just make sure he lives through it. Then you can train him to do whatever the other Foot dogs do.]

There was the barest shuffle of movement and Mikey breathed in sharply as a hand was lifted and turned as if being inspected, before being simply dropped with a heavy metallic thunk, causing pain to shoot through his broken and burnt hand and up his arm and he wailed and curled in more on himself in silent agony. Then the stranger's unwanted, probing hands moved to his face, lifting his head from where it laid cushioned on his other arm. Mikey tried to pull away but the grip was too strong and a thumb quickly worked its way between his lips, lifting the top one away. The thumb rubbed firmly against his teeth and Mikey all but choked in disgust, tasting the scent of stale cigarettes and dog on the man's thumb. 'Why?' he whined to himself desperately, sure he felt a bit of fur left behind in his mouth.

As suddenly as his mouth was violated, he was released and his head dropped heavily back onto his arm, making his other hand cane with pain inside its metal prison. He moaned inwardly and with a renewed effort, opened his eyes to a slit to see a short, skinny Japanese man with greying hair and a Foot uniform sans the mask standing nearby and gazing down at him in disgust.

[I don't see the point of this, Bradford-sama. It has no claws or fangs,] the man said, dismissing him, [and its paws are so heavy that it will never be able to run fast enough to hunt down prey or fugitives, even if its sense of smell is sufficient for the job. Do you even know how good its sense of smell is?]

[Who knows but Spot lived all his pathetic life in the sewers so I doubt it's that good,] Dogpound replied with an uncaring shrug.

Mikey's gaze narrowed, 'It's good enough to smell your breath over my own fried flesh, dude and man that makes me wonder if you've ever used a toothbrush a day in your life!' he thought desperately, remembering the final moments before he lost consciousness back in the smithy. He didn't have many new aches so he guessed Dogpound must have carried him wherever here was and dropped him, rather than dragging him back.

[It's useless. Why should I waste my time training this... dog?]

[Because Master Shredder wants it done,] Bradford growled.

'And of course, you don't have any say in it at all, do you, Dogpound?' Mikey thought sarcastically, wishing he still had the ability to speak his mind aloud and point out that detail.

[Spot used to be the son of that rat, Hamato Yoshi,] Bradford added maliciously, explaining with that simple statement all the enmity The Shredder held towards Mikey and his brothers.

At those words, Mikey stiffened, glaring up at the former human, 'Used to be? I still am! Just because you turtle-napped me and are trying to turn me into a dog doesn't change that!'

[Ah, now it makes more sense,] the other man exclaimed. [Do you have a preference in how the... dog is trained?]

Dogpound's grin turned wide and full of malice and Mikey couldn't help the shudder racing through his body. [I don't care, just as long as Spot continues to live and suffers for his many, many crimes.]

'Crimes?' Mikey cried silently, indignantly, even as he was careful not to move and show he was following their conversation. It wasn't easy and it took every ounce of his will not to give himself away. 'You're the one who faked our friendship to use me! All my bros and I ever did was defend ourselves! We even tried to warn you and Fishface about the mutagen but you attacked anyway! You brought this on yourselves!'

[I see,] the stranger continued, not noticing Mikey's anguish. [Tell me, it was brought from America, yes?]

Bradford grunted a confirmation.

[Does it understand Japanese?]

[Given that his father is Japanese, I would have thought so. However, this one is too stupid and has shown no signs of understanding anyone in his time here.]

Mikey bristled slightly at the slur but kept his protests to himself; something he was well practised at. His best chance was to continue to feign ignorance. If no one knew he understood, then there was a better chance of them letting something he could use slip in front of him.

[Good. That will work in my favour. If it can't understand, that will make it easier to encourage obedience for the few things it is learning, without it being able to argue or fight back. It will be too exhausted and frustrated to do otherwise.]

The man moved out of Mikey's line of sight and while he tried to track him, it hurt too much to move. Moments later, a bowl was dropped beside the thin mat Mikey was laying on and the man reached out, pushing his face into it.

Mikey spluttered as water forced its way into his nostrils and into his mouth; he wrenched himself backwards in an attempt to break free.

[Water. Drink!] the man commanded, pushing his face into the liquid again.

"Let me go! You're drowning me!" Mikey cried silently as he struggled but his face was just pushed back into the bowl as the man repeated to drink in Japanese again.

[Why are you helping him?] Bradford asked flatly, clearly unimpressed.

[Because your 'dog' is clearly in too much pain to help itself,] the trainer replied.

[I never thought of you as soft before, Hakuba-san,] Bradford growled menacingly.

'Soft? He's trying to kill me!' Mikey cried, his struggles beginning to weaken. True, as a turtle, he could hold his breath longer had he been given the chance to hold it in the first place but he'd wasted most of it in the initial onslaught already.

[Drink, Spot,] Hakuba commanded again, pushing Mikey back to the bowl. Then he faced Bradford once more. [I have often observed sick or injured animals will not drink of their own volition and you need him alive, yes?]

Bradford was silent a moment then grunted yes.

[Then I need to help it until it can help itself.]

Feeling himself pushed down yet again, Mikey reluctantly stuck out his tongue and lapped a small amount of tepid water up, hoping it would satisfy his tormentor. Despite the temperature and the fact it tasted as if it had been sitting in the bowl for a couple of days, it felt good on his sore, parched throat. He quickly worked to lap up a little more - an act that still felt strange and wrong to him, even after having been forced to drink that way for over a month now - and felt Hakuba's grip on the back of his neck loosen.

[Fine,] Bradford growled in disgust. [So when will you start training him?]

[I already have,] Hakuba announced with a cold smile.

Mikey froze and he raised his gaze, shrinking back as it met the smirking trainer's. Then, knowing he couldn't afford for Hakuba to suspect he understood every word, he darted out his tongue and continued drinking until he had his fill before pulling away and laying back down once more, head resting on his right arm.

The two Foot continued to talk over Mikey as if he wasn't there for some time while Mikey feigned sleep. In truth even if he wanted to sleep, the dreadful pain from his broken, burned and cramped hands wouldn't have let him. He didn't know if they'd always feel so cramped in their metal prisons or if it was just from the swelling but it was extremely uncomfortable either way. He listened carefully as they discussed him and their plans for him, trying not to exhibit his dread at every word said. Especially the part where Hakuba said he'd be taking him out and teaching him to heel and respond to commands the very next day.

Hakuba knew his hands were broken, Dogpound had gleefully explained the whole 'incident', laughing raucously at the agony he'd caused Mikey in the process and yet, Hakuba still wanted him to walk around on his hands and knees despite knowing? Yes, the too heavy metal paws would offer some support like a cast would but it was far too soon and his hands weren't just broken but burnt too! Mikey was no medic but even he knew his chances of healing fast or well would be ruined with the constant pressure on them. Not that it would make much difference considering his bones weren't even set before being sealed inside. He took a sharp breath of painful realisation. He'd probably never be able to hold his nunchucks or a pencil ever again, even if he could find a way to get the damned paws off.

Finally, the two Foot took their leave with Mikey hearing a bolt driven home on the other side of the heavy door. It was only then that he allowed his emotions to well to the surface and himself to start shaking with fear, dread, misery and homesickness.

Why hadn't his family ever come?

He'd given them enough information to find him so why hadn't they made it?

It was daylight at the time, he knew that from the slit of light leaking through the bottom and seam of the door, and therefore dangerous for them but they were ninja! The best of the best, all! They would have taken the risk knowing how little time they had.

Or... could it have been that they decided he wasn't worth the risk after all? They loved him, yes but... he always did annoy them a lot and his clumsiness and inability to concentrate often screwed up missions... so... maybe... maybe they decided they were better off without him after all, rather than risking their lives for a liability like him. He sniffled noisily as he shook at the terrible thought that love and brotherhood just weren't enough.

Suddenly, he froze, hearing someone just outside the door. The sound of the bolt scraping reached his hearing once more and he lifted his head in alarm to wipe his face dry against his right arm, careful not to disturb his horribly throbbing hands.

The door opened and Dogpound's malicious, furry face appeared before he walked in, closing the door behind him once more. He dropped a bowl to the ground, as far from Mikey as he could get in the small room.

"Dinner," Dogpound growled in annoyance. "I suggest you walk over and eat it because you won't get anything else until it's gone, no matter how dry and old it becomes."

Mikey swallowed and simply stared up at the former human. That was no idle threat. After his first 'meal' back in the shipping container he'd tried to refuse to eat again - dogfood really was disgusting, even by his standards - but Bradford had just put the muzzle back on him and tried again a couple of hours later when the turtle's stomach was grumbling its protests loudly. When Mikey still refused, he'd muzzled him again and again until nearly a day later, when the food had dried in the heat of the container and was starting to go off. Then instead of giving Mikey another chance to eat of his own volition, Bradford had forced it into Mikey's mouth holding his jaw tightly closed until he'd eventually swallowed painfully, the dried bits sticking in his throat and sending him into a coughing fit. The only good thing about that was the fact that as he'd retched afterwards, he'd hacked bits onto a very displeased Dogpound. The furry villain had taken it out on him, beating him viciously but despite the pain, he'd still found it funny - besides, Raph hit him harder whenever he'd gone too far pranking him in the past. Suffice it to say, Mikey had learnt to eat quite fast after that.

"Besides," Dogpound's smile turned wide and perverse, "you'll need your strength tomorrow," he laughed, as Mikey continued to stare balefully at him. "The man I brought in before is your new training master. He will be working with you every day from now on to teach you how to be a good, obedient dog and he is well known for not holding back and for getting results. Oh, but don't fret, Spot, as your Alpha, I'll still give you special treatment each day. In fact, I look forward to it. Don't you?"

Mikey didn't respond, just continued to stare from where he lay.

"I asked you a question, Spot!" Bradford snarled and now Mikey looked away, knowing he couldn't answer with a nod or shake of his head without consequences he didn't want to face, especially right no hen he was in so much pain.

Dogpound chuckled. "I'll see you for breakfast tomorrow and that better all be gone. Oh yeah, if you need to piss or shit, do it in the sand patch outside the kennel."

Widening, Mikey's eyes shot up to Dogpound again but the large mutant turned around and exited through the door once more, leaving Mikey to wonder. For the first time, he carefully pushed himself onto his right elbow and looked around. Behind him, opposite the door his tormentors entered and left from, was another door, a saloon-style door that could swing in or out when pushed. It had a thick edge of rubber in the middle, obviously to keep the weather out and there was a thick glass window above, letting the daylight enter the small room, kennel, Mikey corrected himself with a shudder as he looked around the rest of the bleak space. The floor beneath the mat he laid on was covered with an old, dirty and almost threadbare carpet, probably placed there as part of Mai's requested changes for winter warmth, Mikey thought bitterly. That was probably the reason for the rubber seal on the door also. He then looked up and saw a small, dim lightbulb in the ceiling out of his reach. Even without the restraints keeping him to all fours he wouldn't have been able to reach without jumping; the kennel was obviously built to accommodate Dogpound's size, allowing for the mutant to easily be able to further torment him

He was curious about outside the saloon doors though, especially since he did feel an ache in his bladder now Dogpound had mentioned it, but it was still daylight out there and no way was he going while just anyone could see. Besides, he hurt too much to walk right now.

His stomach chose that moment to rumble in complaint and he looked over towards the food with a defeated sigh. It truly was better to eat it sooner rather than later but did Dogpound really have to put it so far away knowing full well his hands were freshly broken?

Of course, he did...

Bradford really was a vindictive arsehole but he shouldn't have been surprised at that, given he was the Shredder's prized pupil for so many years, at least until the man disappointed his master.

Mikey stared across the space, trying to work out how to get there. If it wasn't for his casted left arm, he could have simply crawled using his elbows instead of hands but he couldn't bend that arm. The heavy weight of the paws encasing his broken hands prevented him from being able to just shuffle over on his knees. With time, he was sure he'd get used to the weight enough to be able to do so but right now? It was hard enough to shift them, let alone lift them for an extended period of time. Not that he'd really tried. The last thing he wanted to do was feel those searing stabs of agony with any and all movement.

However, there was nothing else for it.

Mikey pushed himself up to his hands and knees, crying out silently with every movement. Panting harshly, he sat back on his haunches, not daring to move further for several minutes. Then finally, he lifted one hand and moved it forward, carefully placing it down. Shaking, he took a tentative breath and braced himself before placing any weight on it to move the next hand.

It was too much.

Mikey howled, unable to draw breath as he collapsed.

Hakuba wanted him to walk around on all fours and 'train' tomorrow when he couldn't even crawl the short distance across the room to get at his dinner? The man was insane! Even if he had mentioned giving him enough painkiller to make it possible. Mikey shook violently at the memory, breathing harshly in and out.

Walking around without feeling the pain would just make things worse! He wouldn't even notice the extra damage he was doing to himself and healing would just take that much longer! Even he knew that! And then, hell! Coming down off that pain relief after making things worse by however many hours he was forced to 'walk' would be a hundred times worse! Hakuba knew that! In fact, it had been his main selling point when convincing Dogpound of the merits of giving him pain relief for training.

But what could he do? He was in no position to refuse. He was helpless and alone. Injured, imprisoned, shackled and voiceless.

Not to mention surrounded by enemies in a foreign country.

And he could no longer even rely on Mai to help him. She'd made it perfectly clear once he left her surgery, he'd be just another exotic animal to her, one she was looking forward to studying fully the moment she was given the chance.

Breath shuddering in his plastron, Mikey stared at the yawning distance between him and the bowl once more, wishing he could straighten his legs at least and use his feet to pull it over. Still, he had to try. Biting his lower lip in determination, he worked to wriggle carefully across the space.

He refused to give Dogpound the satisfaction of winning without even putting up a fight.

-:-

Mikey woke to a foot in his plastron, kicking him into the thick kennel wall. Wheezing in agony from the sudden movement displacing his hands, he looked up to see Dogpound grinning savagely down at him. "Breakfast time, Spot!" he announced brightly, gleefully motioning across the room to where he'd placed the bowl in the opposite corner.

'Seriously, dude? Do you know how hard it was to get to last night?' he groaned, then realised darkly, 'of course you do, that's why you keep doing it.'

"Better hurry up, Spot, your new master will be here for you soon."

Mikey glowered as he watched Bradford leave. As soon as the door was bolted, his gaze shifted across the room. To be honest, he wasn't really hungry but, he realised with sudden alarm, he was desperate to pee. He'd meant to go last night after eating but he'd expended so much energy and effort just getting to the bowl that he'd fallen into an exhausted sleep where he was. Mikey glanced up at the small window letting in the morning sunlight and froze with dread. It was morning! Oh god! He'd have to go in front of whoever might be watching. Crap, crap, crap, crap!

Shaking in self-disgust for his weakness, Mikey slowly and with great difficulty worked his way along the floor, eventually reaching the door and carefully pushing it open. He blinked painfully into the bright sunlight.

Squinting from brightness he simply wasn't used to, he saw a small concrete ramp leading down and his jaw dropped in shock. He couldn't! He couldn't even walk so how was he to make his way back up afterwards? Mikey hung his head in exhaustion for a time, then looked up again, better able to see now that he'd become more used to the light. At the bottom of the ramp was a grassed area about six feet wide and thirty feet long, surrounded by thick bars anchored deep into the ground with concrete and covered in chicken wire. The enclosure was a little over eight feet high, allowing for someone to come in after him or for maintaining the area.

To the left of the kennel was a large, open sandy area for him to do his business in, in full view of the Foot compound beyond. Mikey hunched his shoulders as he looked up at the large Japanese style mansion across the yard, surrounded and shaded by the thick trees that were everywhere. Suddenly, movement caught his attention as a small contingent of soldiers marched silently across the yard on their way to who-knew-where. Mikey watched them warily until they disappeared from view, then returned his attention to the sand and swallowed painfully.

Getting down there and back up would be a nightmare but he needed to go so badly it hurt. Maybe he should just try to roll down? That would hurt like hell too, a lot, but at least it would be over fast. He began to ease his way out of the saloon doors when the subtle motion of a ninja coming to attention caught his eye. Mikey whipped his head around to see a soldier on guard, focused on him. No! He grit his teeth in frustration and not a little anger. He was to have no privacy even to go to the toilet? Fine! Shooting a glare to the guard, Mikey made his way the rest of the way out. The pressure from his bladder meant he couldn't contain it any longer so he'd just have to shield himself from full view by going as close to the kennel as he could and from that night on, make sure he went under cover of darkness so no one could make out any details.

-:-

Michelangelo lay exhausted, feeling sick and unable to move at the bottom of the ramp when Hakuba arrived sometime later. He'd managed to relieve himself, thankful that the Foot Soldier guarding him didn't move closer to watch him and had somehow crawled his way back to the bottom of the ramp and that's when he arrived at an impasse, literally unable to crawl back up. Just from the small amount he'd 'walked', his hands were caning him more than ever and just the mere thought of putting his weight on them again turned his already churning stomach.

[Spot, come!] Hakuba called from inside the kennel and Mikey winced. While he supposedly didn't understand, as far as anyone else was concerned, the use of his new name meant he was expected to respond no matter what. Well, screw that! Not only didn't he want to respond to that stupid name but he couldn't even if he wanted to. It wasn't like he had any way of verbally responding anymore, not to mention he was quite unable to get back inside anyway.

The man pushed open the saloon doors and peered out, seeing Mikey at the bottom of the ramp and concern briefly flitted across his face before quickly being covered up. [Spot?] he repeated.

Mikey blinked wearily up at him before turning his gaze away and closing his eyes again.

Suddenly he sensed movement by him and he jumped, wincing in pain. He opened his eyes again as his head was touched.

[Can't get back inside again, huh?] Hakuba asked, the barest hint of sympathy in his voice. [Bradford-sama asks a little much, I'm afraid.] He sighed at the lack of response from Mikey. [Well, it seems Bradford-sama was correct that you can't understand. Never mind, you'll learn eventually. The simple things, anyway. Wouldn't do for you to pick up on any more than that.]

'Just let me sleep,' Mikey whined to himself, closing his eyes again. 'I'm fine here, in the sun. It's actually kinda nice. Not so cold...' There was a sound of rummaging and foil being popped. Mikey frowned.

[Open your eyes, Spot,] Hakuba commanded.

Reluctantly, Mikey did as bade, not having the excuse since his 'name' was mentioned once more. He saw a small packet of painkiller in Hakuba's hand as he held it up. The brand and contents were written in Japanese of course, a combination of kanji, hiragana and katakana which he could read, though he was somewhat rusty on the kanji, but the logo itself was universal. Mikey shook his head rapidly in alarm.

[It will help. Make you feel better.]

Mikey shook his head again and closed his eyes defiantly.

"Make feel better," Hakuba repeated in halting English.

'No, it won't,' Mikey thought sluggishly, shaking his head in disagreement again, despite having been warned not to communicate like that but what other choice did he have? If only he could still talk. Mai and Dogpound had a lot to answer for.

Hakuba sighed again and all of a sudden, Mikey felt the man's fingers pushing between his lips again and forcibly prying open his mouth. He tried to pull away violently but he was too weak and next thing he knew Hakuba was tossing in two pills and holding his mouth closed.

'No! Stop!' Mikey cried mentally in panic and he desperately fought back, 'I can't...' but at that moment the man began rubbing downwards against his throat, triggering his swallow reflex and gagging, Mikey tried to stop himself but was unable. Before long, the pills went down and Hakuba finally released him. Mikey immediately tried to throw up, something that shouldn't have been too hard since he felt so ill but he had little in his stomach, having not eaten since shortly before sunset the night before and of course he couldn't stick his broken, entrapped fingers down his throat.

Hakuba immediately walked inside, soon coming back with his bowl of breakfast which he placed down beside Mikey on the grass at the base of the ramp. [Eat,] he commanded. Then repeated in English before saying it again in Japanese.

Mikey glared daggers up at his trainer but Hakuba stood over him, arms folded and uncaring as he stared down expectantly.

[Eat,] he repeated again, nudging the food closer.

Stomach twisting in fear, Mikey struggled to push himself up and lean over the bowl, figuring that maybe if he ate, at least he'd be able to throw up sooner than later.

-:-

To Mikey's disgust and fear, the painkillers worked well and fast and as soon as he'd finished eating, Hakuba clipped the leash to his collar, spoke the word [Heel] and led him up the ramp and out through the door. Mikey tried numerous times to stop and try to throw up but Hakuba simply tugged harshly at his leash, choking Mikey and continued leading him on.

Both before long and what felt like hours later, they reached a large, thickly tree-lined enclosed yard filled with obstacles, balancing poles and even some hoops. Mikey gazed around in dread, feeling sick at the sight, especially that of a small audience standing and staring expectantly at him around the outer edge of the training yard as if he were the only entertainment to be found in this dump.

Knowing this place was in the middle of nowhere, he probably was...

[Sit!] Hakuba commanded, pushing Mikey's rump down. Mikey glared at the man while he turned and fixed the chain leash to the nearby fence before walking away.

Mikey sighed miserably and laid down to take his weight off his hands. The pain had diminished further as he'd walked on them to the point where there was only a dull ache to remind him of the damage done with an occasional sharper pain as he placed his weight badly. However, the ill feeling he'd awoken with that morning had only increased the longer he'd walked.

What felt like moments later, Hakuba returned. [Up!] he commanded, pulling at the lead. [Up, Spot!]

Mikey groaned in misery as he was pulled back to a sitting position. Thanks to the resulting choking, he didn't fight back but his arms quivered beneath him, threatening to give way and dump him face-first on the ground; he really hoped he wouldn't give his audience that bit of entertainment.

[Stay still, Spot,] Hakuba commanded again, holding yet another collar in front of Mikey's sight.

'Another one?' Mikey thought tiredly. 'Already wearing two, isn't that enough, dude?' Then at the sight of wicked-looking spikes pointing inwards, his eyes widened in terror. He shifted his gaze to look pleadingly up at the human and shook his head rapidly, mouthing desperately, "Please don't put that on me! I'll be good!"

Hakuba's face twisted in displeasure as he snatched at the leash again, holding it high. [Bad dog! Stay still!] he demanded as Mikey choked again at the mistreatment.

"Come on, dude, please!" Mikey begged silently, trying to lift a hand to the collar at his throat. The combination of the weight of the metal paw and the sudden sharp pain lancing through him from his weight all supported on one broken and burnt hand made him drop it again and he momentarily blacked out as the paw slammed heavily onto the ground. When his vision cleared, the new collar was secured around his throat above the older collars and the leash reattached to it with a final sounding click.

Hakuba began to walk, commanding [Heel, Spot!] as he did and feeling the spikes pressing dangerously into his tender, abused throat, Mikey rushed to join him, shivering violently in the warm sunlight.

After numerous harsh tugs and pulls when Mikey didn't respond to various simple commands, he just started to obey when they were spoken, too tired to fight or feign ignorance any longer. It didn't help feeling blood trickle slowly down his throat or the fact he felt so awful and freezing cold. He lost track of time and one moment began to blur into the next until finally, his hand turned underneath him as he put it down onto a rock and he stumbled. Hakuba demanded for him to get up again but try as he might, he couldn't. His arms and legs felt like jelly even as sweat poured off of him and he shivered with cold.

The trainer reached down, touching Mikey's forehead and he couldn't help but subconsciously lean into the warmth of the hand. He was vaguely aware of a sharp intake of breath and then a yell, before being picked up moments later and carried off at a run.

-:-


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