Inhuman

by Silvermoontwentyseven

Donnie and Leo made a terrible mistake. Blinded by their want to become human, Donnie creates a mutagen that makes them just that. But it isn't what the boys expected, and their selfish decision tears a hole through their family. The consequences will leave them to question all they've ever known. After all, what does it truly mean to be human? (2015 TMNT 1st Place for Best AU)

2. Leave it to Mikey

Chapter Two: Leave it to Mikey

{Mikey}

Everyone's acting weird. Donnie and Leo seem really down—like, more than usual. And Raph's just being a punk—like, way more than usual. I get what Leo said about being pent up, but man! These guys just need to chill!

We're going out on patrol soon, so hopefully that will get everyone back in their heads. I hope so, 'cause I hate it when they're like this. Everyone's in their own mind, angry or upset about something they won't say to anyone else, and no matter how many jokes I crack or silly faces I make, I still can't get them to laugh! It sure makes my job a lot harder. All I want is for everyone to be cool with each other…but sometimes, it seems like that's just too much to ask for.

I grab my nunchucks off the bedside table and stretch my legs. Maybe we'll find a good skate spot after we see what the Foot's up to. That'd be a good night: beating up a few dozen goons and then skating for a couple hours before heading home and crashing. You know, after pizza. A good night always ends with pizza.

I wonder if Master Splinter's noticed the downer mood. But, I guess if he had, he would've given us some weird lesson about inner peace and tranquility or whatever. I don't know—I usually zone out for those things.

A knock sounds at the door.

"You almost ready, Mikey?"

"Yeah, Leo!" I call back. I grab my kneepads and hop towards the door while I shove them on. I snatch my skateboard too and sling the nunchucks into their holders on the back of my shell.

Please be a good night. Please, please, please!

~T~

{Raph}

"This is the worst night ever!" I groan. I collapse onto my back on the rooftop, clutching my head in boredom. I feel like my brain's gonna pop out of my skull from all this stupid—

"Raph!" Leo hisses. "For the billionth time, be quiet!"

"Why does it matter? There's nothing out here, Leo! We're just wasting our time—again—"

"On a detail that you picked up for us," he snaps. That shuts me up. "You said you saw the Foot here the other night, so we're checking it out. Now shut up and keep watch."

I let out an exaggerated sigh and fold my arms over my face. This sucks.

"It's alright, Raph," Mikey says, sitting down next to me. "If there's nothing out here, we can just go skating after." He looks to Leo. "Right?"

Leo doesn't say anything. He keeps his eyes down by the subway station, and Donnie keeps his to the back alleyways by the fish markets. Neither of them have been very vocal, which is fine by me, but it is a little weird. Plus, it just gives Mikey an incentive to be more obnoxious than usual while he tries to cheer everyone up.

"So how long do we wait?" I grumble.

Leo doesn't look at me. "As long as it takes."

"Oh, oh!" Mikey chimes. "Can we play some games while we're waiting? I can start! This one's called the—"

I clamp a hand over Mikey's mouth and glare at him. "No."

"But—"

"Mikey, just shut up, will you? It's already frustrating enough that Fearless is keeping us out here when there's clearly nothing going on—"

"Raph—" Leo warns.

"But it'll be fun!" Mikey whines. "Come on, please? Leo?"

"Not right now, Mikey."

He turns to me with pleading eyes. "Raph?"

"Don't make me hit you."

And then to Donnie, standing across the rooftop, his back to us. "…Donnie? You wanna play? It's really cool—"

"Mikey, can you please stop?" Donnie says impatiently. "Seriously, you're all being really loud."

"That's what I'm trying to say!" Leo groans. "Now all of you, be quiet! And Mikey, stop poking Raph before he throws you off the roof."

"I'm getting real close," I growl, staring down at Mikey. He smiles sheepishly and pulls back, but I smack him upside the head anyway for good measure.

"Ow!"

"Mikey! What did I just say?" Leo barks.

"He hit me!" Mikey cries, pointing. "I didn't even do anything!"

Leo buries his face in his palm. "What will it take to shut the two of you up?"

"You can tell Mikey to leave," I mutter. "That'd definitely help."

Mikey's face bunches up. "You want me to leave? Fine!" He snatches up his skateboard. "I'll just find a spot to skate by myself." He turns away from us and makes for the fire escape.

"Mikey—" Leo starts, but Donnie interrupts.

"Let him go, Leo. There won't be much happening tonight anyway—at least one of us should be having some fun. Besides, there's no sense keeping him here if it's going to be a problem."

Mikey hops over the edge, and we all listen to the sound of wheels grinding through the gravel and the sidewalk as he skates off. Leo sighs, shaking his head, and glares at me.

"What?" I ask, trying to mask my grin.

"Why can't you ever behave?" he growls. "Seriously, it isn't that hard to keep your mouth shut."

"Behave?" I scoff. "What am I, five?"

Leo gives me a condescending look. "On a good day."

I bare my teeth and push myself off the ground. "Hey, he started it—"

"I don't care! Grow up and ignore it! He's just trying to lighten the mood—cut him some slack."

My nostrils flare and I cross my arms, averting my burning gaze. I'm always the one getting yelled at. Mikey can act like a child all he wants, and the others think it's harmless, but when I act immature, I'm supposed to know better. We're all the same age, more or less. Why can't Mikey ever know better?

"Can I leave too?" I grumble.

Leo doesn't even hesitate. "No."

"But Mikey left!" I hiss, incredulous.

"We might need you here. Besides, you're the one who saw the Foot here, which means we're here because of you. So you're staying."

"Gah!" I throw my hands in the air and slump back down against an A.C. unit—rather loudly, I might add—and Leo shoots me another glare.

"I know, I know," I mock. "Be quiet."

His lip curls slightly, but he turns his back to me again.

Man, I think bitterly, the side of my face smushed up against my fist. This bites.

~T~

{Mikey}

The sound of the wheels churning up gravel beneath me fills my ears, and all the space in-between—which Donnie says there's a lot of.

I don't really know where I'm going, and I don't really care, as long as it's somewhere away from my brothers. Geez, all I was trying to do was make everyone feel better, but no, I guess I'm just too obnoxious.

I breathe out all the heaviness in my chest and glance up at the starless sky. It's black, washed with a bit of deep blue around the horizons, but completely empty. No moon, no stars, no clouds—just blah. Kinda like how I'm feeling right now.

I've been going for a while, keeping to the back alleys or the rooftops; I don't really want the guys finding me. I just need time to blow some steam. But man, if anything cool happens while I'm gone, I'm gonna be mad.

I jump the curb of the sidewalk and hop off my board for a second. I guess I went pretty far—I don't think I've been over here before…

I turn around slowly and try to take in my new surroundings, even though everything here looks the same. I see a few warehouses off to my left, and a back road that leads to the docks.

Wait, the docks? I'm out this far already? I groan and kick at the sidewalk. I should've been paying attention; it's going to take forever to get back. I lean against a busted streetlight and stare up at the flickering bulb. At least it's deserted over here. The warehouses look abandoned—either that, or nobody cares that all of the windows have been smashed in and boarded up with scrap wood.

I tilt my head and smile to myself. I bet there's some cool stuff leftover in there. At the very least, it'd be a sweet place to hang out for a bit.

I sling my skateboard over the back of my shell, tuck it behind my belt, and move for the neglected building. I keep checking to make sure no one's around, but this whole place is completely empty. Even back on patrol, the streets were dead. I guess that just means less to worry about.

I duck under a crooked awning that's hanging inches from the ground and pop the knife from the back of my nunchuck. I give the scrap wood a good punch with the blade and bust the whole thing open. After scraping away most of the splinters and shards, I pull myself up through the window and drop down into the dark, damp warehouse. My feet land on the wet cement—in a puddle, no less—and my wrappings are soaked through.

"Sheesh," I mutter, covering my nose. "Smells like Donnie's lab."

The stench of oils, sulfur, and gasoline clogs my senses. I shake my head to try to chase it off, but it does little good. I've never liked this kind of smell. It reminds me of those icky black smoke plumes that come from the factories every so often. We made the mistake of staking out on one of those one night… Let's just say that'll never happen again.

I opt for breathing through my mouth—which isn't any better, 'cause now I can taste it—and ready both of my nunchucks. I can't see anything suspicious in here, but it is pretty dark, so I can't assume there isn't anything suspicious in here. I keep to the walls and move slow, remembering Leo's stealth training from last week that I sort-of-but-not-really paid attention to.

I hum a little tune to myself, though I'm pretty sure Leo distinctly said not to hum tunes to myself in situations like this, but hey, he's not here to tell me what to do.

"Ugh," I groan. The smell's really getting to me. I wish I had a light or something—

Oh! My T-phone! Duh.

I slip the device from my belt and push the little on-button. The screen flickers to life, breaking the thick darkness of the warehouse with a steady stream of blue-ish light. I wave it around and the beam catches piles of metal boxes, wooden crates, a few workbenches littered with tools and exposed wires, and scattered papers, like blueprints. I tilt my head at the mess and carefully step towards the closest bench.

"Donnie would sure love it here," I whisper. I poke at the coils of cables, wires, and metal linings. I wonder what was going on here. It doesn't seem like this stuff would just get left behind.

The faint sound of a dripping pipe and the thick silence is kind of unnerving, so I start humming again as I wander through the workroom. I have no idea what any of it means, but it's fun to look at, so I don't mind not knowing.

I'm almost near the opposite end of the warehouse when a clanging sound erupts behind me. I gasp and drop the phone, ripping my nunchucks from my belt on instinct—

But the ground is wet, and the phone lands in a puddle and short-circuits. A sharp popping sound shoots from it, along with a few sparks, and it dies there in the water and leaves me in the dark.

"Ah, man!" I hiss. I scramble for the phone and pick it up, frantically pushing the button over and over, but nothing happens. "Aw, Donnie's gonna kill me!"

Another metallic sound comes from the darkness, and I tense up. It sounds like…something's moving…

I whirl my nunchucks around me defensively, but I can't see a thing and I'm freaked out. Maybe I should leave—where was that window again?

I squint my eyes and see it: the only faint source of outside light, all the way on the other side of the warehouse. I groan inwardly and press the back of my shell against the wall, inching slowly for the window as quiet as I can manage. I hold my breath and plead silently in my head. Oh, I hope something just fell over; I hope there's nothing else in here—please, please, please—

But the noise occurs again, only louder this time. Whirring, ticking, metal scraping, hinges creaking—what is that, a machine? I swallow hard and try to stay calm until two dim red lights flicker to life in the black.

What's going on? I flatten into the wall and my breath catches in my throat. What is that? Some alien monster robot? I think I've had enough of those for one lifetime, thank you very much!

I keep still and watch the two red dots sway through the darkness as whatever-it-is continues to move and scrape awkwardly against the wet pavement.

Alright, I think to myself. I can do this. If those are its eyes, it doesn't look much taller than me—I can take it…even though I can't see a thing and I have no idea what it is.

I clench my jaw and make a silent whimper. This is why they shouldn't let me go off alone. Haven't they learned by now the kind of trouble I get myself into?

I take a small step to the right—

And fall right onto my butt. A sharp cry escapes me, more from the shock than from the pain, and I clamber back to my feet, trying not to slip on whatever's all over the floor. Oil? It's not water—it's slippery and slimy and smells weird. I guess something must've spilled—

But that's the least of my concerns. Whatever's in here with me heard the noise I made when I fell, and now it's looking right at me. The red light has sharpened and focused in my direction, and in seconds, all those awful sounds are headed right for me.

~T~

{Donnie}

Nothing. Absolutely nothing. No pedestrians, no loud teenagers—nothing but the stray cat that seems to appear whenever we're staking out. I sigh and lower the binoculars. At least the noise has stopped. If those two would have kept at it, I'd be the one leaving.

I lean against the edge of the rooftop and stare down at the empty streets below. A slight breeze rustles some of the loose garbage in the alleyway, and a dim light turns out in one of the nearby apartments. The fish markets are closed, but stinky as ever, and everything looks to be locked up and secure. A car or two have driven lazily past since we've been out here, but nothing substantially off has been noted. It's been a waste of time, to say the least.

"How long before we pull out, Leo?" I ask. He's watching the other side of the building, but he hasn't seen much either.

"I don't know." He exhales heavily. "Sorry, guys. I guess this was a bust after all." He sheathes his katana and hops down from the building's edge and walks over to me.

"Guess we should go find Mikey and head back to the lair."

"Aw," Raph groans. "No skating? We can't seriously go back without doing something."

I look at Leo and give a small nod. "He's right. Another night without action, and we're all going to be insane."

Leo chuckles and stretches. "Yeah… Yeah, I guess." He glances back down to the empty streets. "Still seems like there should have been something. The Foot's a pretty big organization—I don't see how they could go so long without needing anything done."

I pull my skateboard from under a small solar panel and roll my shoulders a few times. "I don't either, but everything's been quiet. There's not much more we can do without anything wholesome to go off on."

We all stand there on the rooftop for another moment or two before Raph jumps to the fire escape, skateboard in hand.

"Well, come on then," he calls. "Let's go find where Mikey ran off to and grind something before we have to go back!"

Leo and I glance at each other and shrug. We both head for the fire escape, but slower, and listen to the clanging of metal as Raph jumps down through the stairs.

"You're still thinking about earlier," I say quietly. He keeps his eyes to the ground as he walks.

"Yeah."

I nod. We reach the fire escape and stare down at the black metal structure and the dozen flights of stairs.

"You know… I was thinking—"

"That's dangerous," Leo jokes. I smile thinly before continuing.

"What if…what if there was something we could do about it?" I ask. I keep my voice low and careful as if every word is a step on thinning ice. Leo looks at me, brow knit in confusion.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean what if I found a way to…change how we are now?"

His eyes widen, and he stops and circles round in front of me. "What do you mean…'change?'"

I shake my head. "I don't know—it was just a theory. I don't even know how I'd go about it, but I'm sure I could build something that'd use the retro-mutagen I made in a safer manner—"

He practically shouts. "You mean you could make us human?" I give him a look, and he brings his voice to a whisper. "Donnie, could you really do that?"

I shrug. "It's probably impossible. I mean, it was just a theory—"

"You wouldn't be telling me if there wasn't any ground to it," he presses.

"Hey!" Raph's voice echoes from down below. "You geniuses coming or what?"

"In a minute!" Leo shouts, impatient. "We'll catch up!"

I chew on the inside of my cheek nervously. "Really, Leo, I don't know. I think it could work, but it'd be risky, and I have no idea how the others would respond to it—"

"But you could make us human? And switch us back when we needed to?"

"I-I didn't say that—"

"Then what are you saying?" he urges.

I fumble for words and turn my head, sighing. "I don't know… But I'm going to work on it as soon as we get back. I can't promise you anything…but I'm going to try."

He holds my gaze with big, full eyes. I can't tell if he's scared or excited or both, but now I'm thinking I shouldn't have told him until I knew I was capable of such a feat.

"Well…" he says after a moment, possibly sensing my hesitation and uncertainty. "You just let me know, alright? And if there's anything I can do to help—"

"You know there never is," I tease, grinning. He laughs and gives me a good punch on the shoulder.

"But…but seriously," he breathes. "If you can do this, even for just a little bit…that'd be… It'd be incredible."

"Yeah," I say, smiling. "Yeah, it'd definitely be something."

~T~

{Mikey}

Aw, crap, crap, crap! I duck and roll to the side as something hits the wall above me. I can't see a thing, and I'm trying to remember what the warehouse looked like when I had my T-phone shining all over it, but my brain's all muddy from the panic and I can't think past the instinct to run.

I keep close to the walls until I hit the corner, and I whirl around to face the robot monster, weapons in hand. It's getting really close—it's a lot faster than I thought it'd be—and it sounds like it's gargling metal. Sparks fly from some part of its body as it nears me, and a spine-chilling grinding noise emits from the creature. It's sheer luck that I hit the ground when I do, because something flashes and screeches like a saw and tears into the brick wall where my head just was. My head is ringing and my ears hurt from the clamor. I tumble forward and pop back up on my feet, making a wild run for the faint light of the busted window and praying nothing's in my way. If I can just get outside—

Whack! My foot catches on some stupid chunk of metal, and I slip on another convenient puddle of oil and face-plant the ground. I groan in discomfort and scramble back to my feet, trying to ignore the slimy feeling of oil dripping down my hands and legs. Come on, come on!

The clanging of footsteps rapidly increases behind me, but I manage to reach the window, and I throw myself through the hole I made in the scrap wood and somersault onto the street. I jump up and face the warehouse, breathing hard and shaking slightly as I wait for the crazy machine to follow me out.

And sure enough, a loud, mechanical whirring sound emanates from the abandoned building before a shiny, almost-humanoid form lifts up into view and tumbles out onto the asphalt. Its head turns full-circle as it corrects itself and stands, and the red light of its eyes becomes condensed to two tiny little beady dots.

"Well," I breathe, "I was right about the robot part, at least." I swing my nunchucks around and glance at my surroundings. If this thing starts shooting plasma lasers like the Kraang-droids did, then I'm a goner. But maybe if I can get it over to the docks, I can knock it into the ocean…

"Hey!" I shout. "Scrap heap! Is that all you've got?"

A series of clicks and beeps emit from the robot, and it steps out further into the light. It sure looks like a Kraang-droid, but its body lacks the blue membrane covering that those robots had, as well as the gaping hole meant for housing Kraang. No, this one is more slender and basic, like a silver skeleton. It doesn't look fully formed and it's walking funny, as if one of its legs wasn't assembled correctly. One hand is a small, spinning blade instead of an actual hand. But it's the face that's freaking me out. The thing doesn't have a mouth—just a black hole where the mouth should be, and two glowing red eyes that keep constricting and expanding, like pupils, and a faint nose bridge. All in all, it basically looks like it wants to suck out my soul.

It stumbles after me, sparks flying up from a busted left shoulder and exposed wires sticking out of the wrist that isn't connected to the spinning-saw-hand. I gulp, turn on my heels, and run for the docks. I'll just push it over the edge, no biggie, and get the heck out of here.

I can hear it screeching after me as I go—probably saying some rude stuff in robot-language—but I keep running until I hit the docks. I whirl around to face the machine and all its ugliness, and it doesn't waste a second swinging its creepy weapon/hand at my face. I shout and duck, dropping to the ground and sweeping at its legs. The robot goes down, but not before swiping at me again and slicing a good three inches across my shoulder. I hiss and clutch at the deep wound and kick the machine's head back before giving a pitiful roll to the side to avoid further injury.

I glance at the wound and see the blood beginning to surface in little red beads. My eyes narrow and I wince at the sting of it. Stupid robot—

It grabs at my ankle, but I return with a vicious stab of my nunchuck blade right into its chest. The robot shakes awkwardly and hot oil spills from it as I rip the blade back out.

"There!" I snap angrily. "How do you like that?"

It whirrs and creaks, collapsing on itself into the puddle, and when I realize my mistake, it's too late. The sparks spitting from its shoulder and wrist become sporadic and intense, and the second the robot buckles on the docks, the oil trailing down its chest and pooling across the wooden platform ignites—

Whoosh! Fire, heat, and blinding light sweep across me. I gasp and cough, trying to move back, but the fire moves so fast and catches both the wrappings on my feet as well as the oil covering my hands and shins. Pain, white and hot, sears up my skin and I yelp, stumbling without direction, frantically searching for the edge so I can throw myself into the water—

My foot catches the beams guarding the sides of the dock. I roll over them and let myself fall—

Cold. Ice cold. Waves of water and relief wash over me, but my skin is still searing with the agony, and the blood is rushing through my head. I hold my breath and let the chilling water engulf me completely. The salt stings my wounds and my eyes, so I curl myself up into a little ball and become suspended underneath the ocean, forcing myself to keep still. My thoughts are scattered and jumbled and useless. All I can think of is how much it hurts, and how much I want my brothers to find me, to help me—

My lungs are burning like my skin, and I can't stand it any longer, but I don't know what to do or where to go and I'm scared to look at my injuries.

I make the decision to swim back up to the surface and try to find a spot to collapse. It takes a moment, and every move makes me want to cry, but I finally break to the surface. I sputter, flail, and kick, frantically searching for a way to get out of the water. I can't swim well enough with my legs and hands hurting so much, but I can't see any way out other than to climb, which I also can't do with my legs and hands hurting so much.

I whimper, eyes burning, and paddle for the dock. I catch the sight of a small ladder-like structure hanging off the dock and into the ocean, and I swim for that. Each stroke brings a fresh wave of torment to my flesh, and the salty water is not helping. Oh, it hurts. It hurts so bad—

I choke on the lump growing in my throat and push myself for the little ladder, latching onto it with weak arms. I cling to it for dear life and get up high enough for my head to be safely out of the water, but I don't have the strength to climb all the way up. I lean my head against the railing, panting, hurting, and aching. I'm an idiot. What was I thinking?!

My breath comes slower as I calm myself, but I'm cold and shivering, and the waves beat against my burns as the tide goes out. I hold to the railing and tremble, clenching my eyes shut and wishing I was anywhere but here.

I try to listen for any sounds of the robot up above, but I can't hear much past the crashing of the waves and the throbbing inside of my head. I press my face into the railing and shudder. My strength is drained and my body is spent, and a few moments—minutes, hours, lifetimes—pass me by before I let the warmth in the back of my mind wash over me and pull me under.