A/n: Will fix confusing areas later, lol, must move forward! Thank you for anyone reading : D Any comments welcome and appreciated! Hope you like Mike after this chapter.
wwwwwwwwwwwwwwww
Along with a few stray cats, Michelangelo had cleared the alley in record time. His confidence died, though, when his brothers' phones kept going straight to VM. Clueless and alone, the baby had only thought he was scared.
Master Splinter had showed up pissed AF and the old man didn't even know the whole story! At least Most Favored Son knew not to ask any questions, or scream like a girl, for his ass whoopin'.
Just one more slice of pain, that's all. Dad had to hit a lot harder to get Ugly to say what really happened. Yes, sir.
The sirens closing in had ended Sensei's interrogation. "When the man comes around, break his face."
All this to save a rapist.
No, dude! The grunt had sworn to help Donnie, who better have a good damn reason for sending Master on the warpath without a head's up. Yes, sir.
So, here we are.
On top of the ambulance, a sniffling Michelangelo hid with a knocked-out EMT. Blood drooled out the man's mouth to pool on the cold, white metal, while Mike hovered spread-turtle over the good guy. It didn't feel like helping.
The lady paramedic, Mendoza, lumbered to the back then stopped on a dime. "What the hell?"
The ninja didn't move. He imagined her checking out the tin can and string tied to the bumper. He heard panic-y, shallow breathing, and her heart beat was his heart beat. Her heart beat was his heart beat.
Michelangelo hazarded a look at the horror movie scene below.
Sensei, wearing only the fur god gave him, stalked up behind the stout lady in a blue jumpsuit. He was a well-oiled tank rolling towards a bird with a broken wing. The ninja master wrapped his tail around her ankles, smothered her face with his huge clawed paw, and took her down to the ground. Stradling her, he put whispers in her ear.
Master's words made her comply. At least Dad didn't backhand her, hearing her muted fearsome noises was torture enough for Mikey.
The ambulance jostled as the lady got pushed inside the back.
Before following, Splinter reminded Michelangelo. "Do it." Dad had said this wouldn't be easy. Luckily, dude didn't move. The woman blubbered as the back door squeaked closed.
"I'm not gonna hit you." Again. The thug reassured. Another spit bubble popped on Folsom's lips.
Master and the woman spoke indistinctly. There was banging and metal scraping. A muffled yelp.
Three AM according to Mikey's fake Rolex, and rubbing his throbbing jaw, he winced. The non-addict punched out two yellow squares from a blister pack. Then, Mike dropped two more pieces into his palm. After a few rusty chews, the dumbest turtle was smarter. More focused. BuzZZzZeD.
Gathering the man up, Mikey jumped to the above fire escape and king-konged his way up the building.
The victim moaned and swayed around all seven floors up.
On the roof, Mike took the guy's driver's license and cell for Master. "Sorry, man." Then a pack of smokes appeared in Mike's hand. "Crap." Folsom's puffy, distorted face was gonna hurt, for sure, when he came 'round.
Splinter always said, money heals all wounds. Michelangelo unscrewed a nunchaku, and a roll of cash popped out. He tucked his savings inside the EMT's pocket and whispered. "Thanks." The teen had always wanted to try real tobacco.
Mikey was a good guy, right? Hate burned a spot in his mutant heart. Depends who you ask, now.
Raphael had raped the entire Clan.
