The Spark

Chapter Three: Solace in Solitude

Disclaimer: I do not own the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles

Bare cupboards were a constant factor in their life, and Fox had grown accustomed to them. Sighing as he looked at the dwindled amount of supplies that scattered the empty shelves, his mind was flooded with images of half eaten carcasses on the "African Safari" tour he watched on Animal Planet weeks prior. The scraps that were left behind on the thin makeshift wooden shelves shared a striking resemblance to the half eaten remains on the bones of the fallen animals who had became the victim of the vultures.

"My son," said a worn voice which he immediately identified as his father, "please tell me again where you and your brother acquired all of this food."

He was still standing in front of the pitiful cupboard silently stocking its empty shelves carefully with goods. Without hesitation or a second thought he answered.

"We got the food from a food bank."

"A food bank," his father questioned warily, "is this the same food bank that you and your brother visited the last time we were in need?"

"No, that was Saint John's on 21st avenue," he said nonchalantly, "we went to Saint Mary's today. We thought it was much safer."

He could feel his fathers analytical eyes staring holes into the back of his shell, looking for any signs of remorse or discomfort. The young boy continued to fill the shelves, maintaining the same slow and steady rhythm. Lying was becoming second nature to him. His older brother was teaching him well, it was an art form that he had mastered long ago. They had to lie, because they knew that their father would not approve of their methods. Even if their thievery was keeping their family alive. Still, he could not believe that it had already been a month since the first time they robbed a store. It was getting easier, less terrifying, and the guilt he once felt was starting to dissipate. Through his eyes, their actions were justifiable. The businesses in theory were not losing much money, and their lives depended on it. If humans could get assistance from the government, why couldn't they steal from governmental industries to maintain their existence? The injustices and double standards in the world did not make much sense to him.

It had also been a month since his older brother, Skull, had asked him to join him with abandoning their family the moment they turned fifteen. His brother had not pressed the matter further since that night he left him at the entrance of their lair. However, he knew that his brother thought about it from time to time. He could see it in his defiant eyes. His brother had constructed a lifestyle for them both, and he wanted to ride it as far as they could go.

"Donatello," his father spoke much more softly this time, "though I appreciate the initiative that you and your brother are taking during this dire time, I would feel more comfortable if you and your brother ceased such these places of assistance could draw unwanted attention to you both and the family."

"Well," Donatello snapped, turning around to face his father for the first time, "

I would rather risk getting caught trying to help my family instead of sitting idly by while everyone starves to death."

He meant what he said. Times were harder for their family. He stared his father directly in the eyes, mimicking the way his older brother often did. He was terrified at defying his father and disobeying his wishes, but deep down, he knew his father needed their help now more than ever, and he was in no position to deny the steady flow of edible goods. He could tell by the way his father's eyes softened, that he knew there was no stopping the two boys. Slowly turning around, the aged rat quietly stalked off.

"Sometimes, my son, I wish you would just understand. Please hurry with your task, your lessons will start soon."

What exactly he was supposed to understand, the young turtle did not know, but before he could question the matter further, his father was out of sight. Sighing, he shoved the last container into the cupboard, and jumped gracefully off the countertop. Landing softly to his feet, he stretched while admiring the his work. The food was so neatly arranged and organized and the young turtle could not help but feel a sense of pride form in his small chest. Their efforts were keeping the family alive, who wouldn't feel a sense of accomplishment about that?

Yawning, and turning on his heels, Fox began heading towards the the section of the dojo that was deemed the "classroom" while it was not in use for training. He was the last one to arrive, and he could only assume that his older brother Leo was the first. He was a very punctual individual.

Sighing, he plopped himself down next to his baby brother Mikey, the only available spot that was left. Mikey tried to initiate small talk, but today, Fox was not in a talking mood.

"Thank you for getting all that food, Donny!" Mikey chirped with glee.

Internally shuddering at his brothers use of his "real" name, Fox smiled and nodded in his brothers direction. At least someone was grateful.

As their father passed out their work books, he couldn't help but roll his eyes at the lesson simplicity. They were supposed to match words from one column to their synonym in the next. Fox never understood why he had to waste his time on these activities, but he humored his father and did it anyway. He was done with the entire book well before his other brothers had moved past the first page. He wasn't concerned with busy work, he young mind was too preoccupied with tackling bigger questions and ideas. He liked to tinker, he loved finding his own truths, but the reality of their hidden lives made the young boy's natural gift difficult to cater to.

Raising his hand, he asked his father if he could be excused. After Splinter carefully looked over his sons work, he gave an approving nod, and Fox was on his way. He walked past the bedrooms and the family areas. He kept walking until he reached his secret nook in the corner of the lair that could only be accessed by moving the large stone that covered it. Squeezing through the small entrance, Fox carefully replaced the stone back in its original spot. It was in this place that he felt safe to be himself. There were no questions asked when he was in his space. There were no eyes looking at him, there was no suspicious glares or guilt.

Grabbing the flashlight that he stored in the corner of the little room, Fox clicked it on. Soft yellow light illuminated the surroundings, and he silently crawled to the far corner where he kept his most valuable treasures. It was no surprise that one of his most prized possessions was an worn and dated encyclopedia from who knows when. The books was in bad condition, he found it in the sewers after all. However, to Fox, what the book lacked in looks, it made up for in content, and its vast collection of data, facts, and information was stimulating.

Curling to his side, and opening the book to where he had last left off, he quietly began to read through his encyclopedia for the hundredth time.

(A/N): Here is another chapter to The Spark. I hope you all like it. It is a bit different, and not like anything else I have written. I wanted to explore other styles of writing, so please, be patient :P! Please read and review. As always, constructive criticism is welcomed.

-Peace