Attention Leo lovers: Tauni and I (crackernchinkinc) are looking for Leo-enthusiasts who would like to guest write in a little fic we're doing, involving four writers (Tauni, Me, Willowfly, and a guest writer). If interested please message me, or the screen name 'Tauni'. Thanks p.s i'm making this fic up as I go, so bare with me. xD Hah, I messed up so bad. EVERYONE WHO NOTICED THE MESS UP- IGNORE IT!
"I got it, Leo," I huff into the receiver. Cocking my head to the side and animatedly slouching my entire body I wait for him to wrap up the same speech I've heard about six times since last night. Out of the corner of my eye I spot that dirt bag, Arnold Casey Jones. I wince, realizing it's too late to dodge the attack. In a matter of seconds Casey flings himself onto the back of my shell, and due to the excess weight I topple over on top of him.
Betcha didn't plan for that, didja, douchebag?
"I mean it, Raph," Leo says. I can't make out the rest of what he says at the moment because I'm busy scrambling around on the floor with Casey. I'm sure Mikey would find it absolutely hilarious, but right now, gesturing to the phone irritably, I find it annoying as hell. Casey pays no mind.
"Get off me, you asshole!" I grunt, shrugging my shoulder roughly in order to push him away. I succeed in rolling over and reaching for the phone, but then he plows back into me full force, knocking me onto my side.
"Leo!" He squawks as loud as possible, as we're now some distance from the phone. "Raph sa- OOF!"
With no other options in sight I palm his face and toss him to the side like a rag doll.
"Grow up, will ya?" I grumble, grabbing for the phone. I'm smirking, though, and as he climbs to his feet, I see he is, too.
"Ah, who needs ya!" He waves me off.
For a 30 year old man, Casey can be pretty fucking immature sometimes.
"Casey?" Leo asks.
"Yeah," I mutter into the phone.
Finally, the jerkoff calls his attack off and retreats to his bedroom to do who knows what.
"How is he?"
I shrug, even though I know Leo can't see me. "Okay, I guess."
Leo falls silent for a few minutes.
I blink.
Well, what was I supposed to say? He's got his ups and downs. He's trying.
Peeling myself up from the floor, I wander around Case's apartment, touching and examining things, half paying attention to what Leo's really saying. I have it memorized, practically. Don and him are going up to visit Mike, how many times is he going to tell me? I'm supposed to be there in two days. I vouched to stay back with Casey- the guy needs it. He's a wreck, though, he won't show it.
Casey's really changed over the past couple of years. When I first met him, he was living in a two room apartment with a shoddy hand-me-down recliner (that we inherited some years ago, coincidentally), a fuzzy rabbit eat TV and two mattresses shoved in the corner for a bed. Not because he was poor or anything, he was just lazy as fuck.
I'll never forget the first time he laid eyes on April. He annoyed the hell out of her. She warmed up to him though, and soon enough she was actually enjoying his company. I think April was the best thing to ever happen to him, personally. Sure, I was able to deck him in the jaw when he was getting out of control, like he did for me, but April did something I never could do, she talked sense into him. Ignoring years and years of Father-Leo advice, I guess the sense-talking lessons never really sank in.
Any idiot with eyes could see that Casey fell head over heels for April in an instant. Any time he was around her he would get this flushed look on his face and this goofy grin. I used to tease him about it, but I think we all secretly knew they'd end up together someday.
After steering the conversation around and listening to Leo hiss at some blockhead whose blinker had been on for the last two miles, Leo says, "No heavy drinking, okay? You have to be able to drive." As if that weren't enough to make me sigh in disgust, he goes on to say, "And if you guys do go out, try not to get your shell kicked?"
"Yes ma'am," I chuckle. Over the years I guess I've... aged a little. I wouldn't exactly say matured. Leo and me still go toe to toe sometimes, but for the most part, we're a lot closer than we've been since we were kids.
"Raph," he warns me. I nod my head jokingly and quiet down. "There's a first aid kit in the lab just incase-"
"I know where it is," I say. I'm very familiar with the first aid kit, granted, not as familiar as I was a few years ago. And I have every inch of the lab down pat. Really. I spent a lot of my teenage years there, when I wasn't busy lifting weights or bashing skulls.
I keep an eye out for Casey but he still hasn't emerged from his bedroom, so I turn my back to the last place I saw him and let Leo prattle on for another few minutes before Don interrupts him, asking for the phone. "We should be arriving early tomorrow morning- Why do you not have your lights on, you crazy person! It's dark out! -hold on, Donnie wants to say something."
I smirk, assuming the phone was dropped, because I hear what sounds like some fumbling, a keypad being smashed, and some light cursing from Don, before: "Hello?"
"Go," I say quickly, plucking one of Casey's older hockey sticks from the side of the wall. He's got about four or five of them leaning there, some newer, but I like this one best. It's a tan color and splintered around the handle. Adjusting the phone so it rests between the side of my head and my shoulder, I take a practice swing.
"You'll be up in two days right?" Don asks.
"Yeah. Two days," I remind him. "Tell Leo to quit worryin'."
I imagine him smirking on the other line, turning away from Leo. "Yeah, fat chance. Hey, listen, Raph-"
I miss whatever he has to say because at that moment Casey strolls out of the kitchen, fastening his skull-bashing mask onto his face. I glance at his bedroom door confusedly, wondering how he managed to get past me. I squint and point over to his door with my thumb, shrugging my shoulders and shaking my head, asking him with my body how the hell he pulled that one off.
He jerks his head up at me, and I instantly know what's on his mind. I nod and hand the hockey stick over, but he shakes his head and points to another, slinging his golfing bag around his neck. You'd figure after all these years he'd get some new equipment, but nah, he likes to keep it simple.
"How's this, yer majesty?" I say sarcastically, handing him the hockey stick by the handle. He nods and swipes it out of my hand, throwing it into the golf bag slung across his shoulder.
When I look back I catch a glimpse of Casey sneaking out onto the fire escape like a secret agent. "Hey, Don, I gotta go," I cup my hand around the phone and pull it close to my mouth. My body is already inching forward towards the window. "Okay? Tell Mikey I said hey."
"Two days, right?" He says hopefully.
"Two days," I confirm.
Snapping the phone shut I secure it in my belt and make my way out the window onto the fire escape after Casey. When I get out there he's already on the roof, and I'm left wondering how the hell he moves so fast for being so damn old.
Deciding to take the metal stairs like a law-abiding citizen I join him on the roof, and a few seconds later we're both perched up there in the moonlight with the chilly wind stinging our faces.
"Don't you have work tomorrow?" I ask him.
He nods and shrugs slowly. "Yeah."
A few years back Casey got a job as a plumber. He didn't really want it, but it had on the job training, and paid well, so of course April encouraged him. He acts like he's ashamed of it sometimes, but I mean, fuck, I live in a sewer.
The city is relatively quiet for such a night; it's almost eerie in a sense. Over the past couple of years organized crime has gone down considerably, but we've still got a few wiseass copy-cat teenagers. Most of the original members of the Purple Dragons are either dead or in jail, but the new age generation are quickly multiplying. These kids don't play around, either. 3 out of 4 carry guns now, in place of bike chains and switchblades.
The Foot are still out there, but Hun doesn't work for The Shredder anymore. Last I heard, Hun doesn't work with The Purple Dragons, either. I think he fled the City and is dabbling in drugs and weapon exchange, now.
Shredhead shows his ugly mug once in a while, but as far as I know, he's in remission for the time being. Good thing, too, because ever since Mikey left we've really been lacking.
From up here I can see the millions of lights glowing from miles away. They start to blur together if you stare for too long.
Casey sighs next to me and presses his hand onto my shoulder, stepping up onto the ledge of the building. He puts his hands on his hips, surveying the bleak streets below.
"You wanna just hit the streets or you got a particular haunt in mind?" I ask him, careful not to startle him. Maybe a few years ago I would have, but I know next to nothing about how the human body ages, and all I need is to have to call Leo and tell him I won't be coming because Old Man Jones broke his hip in a fall that was my fault. Yeah, that'd go over well.
"Ah, I figure free for all," Casey replies, squinting behind his mask. "You go high, I go low? First one to nab a JV lowlife wins?"
I shrug and nod.
We haven't been doing this as much as we used to since Casey's started working full time. Usually only on the weekends now. At first, it drove me absolutely insane to have to sit underground the entire week. It wasn't like going topside would fix anything; stopping crime by yourself is boring. At one point I actually got scared that I might be getting bored with being a vigilante, and I mean, if I live for 70 years, and I'm getting bored at twenty two years old… I'm in some serious trouble.
Before I can question Casey any further, he hops down the fire escape and lands in a puddle in the ally below. He waves up to me and flips his mask down, pulling out his hockey stick. Then he rushes into the streets.
I seriously wonder how he's never been picked up by the police, wandering around like that.
I shrug and let the matter drop, following him from the roofs. I'm scanning the streets, but most importantly, I'm watching him.
The streets are uncharacteristically silent. A few cars go by, but otherwise, nothing. I didn't really expect much, to be honest. Most of the homeless are either at soup kitchens or sleeping on abandoned stoops, covered in newspapers. I figure all the kids are at parties or something. I'm about to call it quits, when suddenly I hear a struggle from somewhere behind me. Frowning, I start tracing my steps, wondering how I had possibly missed a potential crime.
"Casey!" I holler, but really don't give him a chance to find me.
No Purple Dragons. What I see makes me want to vomit. There's a man down there, maybe a few years older than me, and he's holding a gun eye level with a girl who looks to be about sixteen. I figure she's either a run away or she snuck out for the night. The possibilities are endless, but I'm pretty sure she suggested a blowjob in exchange for some sort of drug, probably marijuana. He probably wanted more from her, and she resisted, which explains why she's huddling in the corner crying, and he's pissing on her like some sick fuck, smacking his dick against her face.
I hate fuckers like this.
I know I've only been watching for two seconds, but it feels like ten. I notice a Casey-shaped shadow materialize in the opening of the alleyway and make my move. It's my job to disarm the scumbag at first, and Casey's to get the girl out into the street and to safety.
Leaping from the roof I fly down and land behind him, kicking the gun out of his hand. Since he was so interested in smearing his piss all over this girl's face disarming him was unbelievably easy. I quickly shove him into the shadows and deliver a swift uppercut into his gut while Casey rushes in and picks the girl up, carrying her out into the street.
"What the fucks wrong with you?" I say in disbelief to the cowering heap of pink flesh on the trash scattered ground.
I get no reply, but I just keep sneering at him like he's diseased or something. He is diseased. Something in his head is sick and wrong and it makes me furious. I feel the anger I've somehow managed to bury all these years spark in the pit of my stomach, but I only get dying embers.
The man retches and vomits onto a muddled newspaper stuck to the floor. I don't know how I didn't notice it before, but the guy positively reeks of alcohol.
"Yo, Raph, you save any butt kickin' for me?" Casey cracks as he steps over to me.
"Where'd you-"
"Porch," he jabs his thumb behind him into the street. "Put her on someone's porch and rang the doorbell. She ain't hurt, just fainted." Returning his attention to the guy on the floor he pokes at him with his tennis shoe, flipping his mask up. He frowns in disgust. "Bum?"
"I don't know," I say. "He had a gun."
"Was it loaded?" He asks, bending down to search the area with his hand. "Where'd you knock it out of his hand at?"
I point over to the wall and he continues the search.
"Damnit," he sighs. His shoulders drop.
"What?"
Groaning, he stands up and turns around, brandishing the weapon. "It's a BB gun."
Where in the hell did he get a BB gun in the city?
"Hey, you," Casey says, turning around and prodding at the lifeless body with his foot again. "Hey. Wake up."
"He's out," I inform him.
Casey gives me this 'gee, do ya think, Raph?' kind of look and I shrug. "Just trying to help. Oh, I win, by the way."
While Casey is busy studying the BB gun out loud I blink and snap my head over to the street, instantly recognizing the red and blue flashing lights creeping closer and closer. I hear a car door slam, then another. I tap Casey on the shoulder and we climb up the fire exit and steal away into the night, undetected, as always.
Sometime later I'm biding my time in a warped old tree trying to back off a bit 'cause I know Casey wants to be alone. I can't help but shudder, though, cemeteries really creep me out. I think of my Father and his resting place up at the farmhouse. He would have liked to have been buried in Japan, I'm sure, but with how things are, right now it's impossible. We briefly discussed having April excavate his grave a few years down the line when we've made some more money and doing a reburial, but I think Leo wants him to stay there. He says he wants to be buried there, too. I keep telling him he shouldn't be thinking about dying, he's only twenty two.
The fact that I can overhear Casey's conversation tells me I should move further away, but I'm frozen in place.
"I didn't bring you no flowers this time, April, but I will next time, promise. I know I didn't dress up, either." His voice falters for a minute. I can hear it crack, but he quickly rebounds and tries to change the subject. "Raph and me saved this girl tonight, you know. Well, I mean, I know you know, but… Man, I'm bad at making conversation. I bet you're laughing at me, huh?"
What he says next really makes me wish I would have left when I had the chance. "I miss your laugh."
It was hard enough for Casey to try to console me when my Father died. That was probably the hardest thing I think my brothers and I have ever had to go through. Everyone's different, now. Aged, like I said before, but not exactly matured. I think this change will be permanent for Leo. He always was the closest to our father.
When April passed away, I had no idea what to do or say to Casey. I loved my Father, I love my brothers, I loved April and Casey, too, but Casey was in love with April. The gaping holes in our hearts are similar, but different.
I change my position in the tree and watch as Casey kneels down, caressing the marble headstone, tracing the letters with his fingers.
He isn't even worried about masking the cracking of his voice anymore, but I can tell he's trying not to lose it. He sniffs and pulls something halfway between a sob and a chuckle, wiping at his eyes. "I'll be back on Sunday, okay? How's about I bring a picnic basket or somethin', you like those, right?"
Sighing I drop from the tree into the grass, making sure to stay off any graves. I inspect the curly metal gate surrounding the cemetery and blink when Casey nudges into my shoulder, stuffing his hands into his pockets. He smiles shyly and jerks his head back to April's headstone, alerting me it's my turn.
I hesitate for a second, but to appease him I approach the grassy mound and stay a few minutes, reciting what I've said inside the safety of my own mind a million times over. I've memorized it, much like the speech I prepared for when my father passed away. Even after he died I wouldn't actually speak to him out loud. I keep my thoughts and my feelings for the deceased behind closed lids. I don't really know if I believe in Heaven or not, but I figure they can hear me.
April was a big part of our lives. I can't help but feel that I've lost a mother, as well as a father.
I guess the on the positive side of losing two of the people I've cared for more than anything in my entire life, I suddenly realized how important it was to tell the remaining people I cared for how I felt. I still have horrendous issues with this, especially with Mikey because he turns everything into a fucking joke (Don says it's a coping strategy), but I can tell Leo approves. There's this new glow behind his eyes every time he looks at me, one I never saw when growing up. I think he might be proud of me.
For the longest time, I thought my father and my brothers had given up on me. It's a horrible feeling, and instead of trying to fix it, you just want to lash out as violently as possible. Give them reason to doubt you, so they'll stop trying to reach you.
I'm glad the animosity between Leo and me is fading. I think my father would be happy.
"You ready to go?" Casey says from behind me.
"Yeah," I say. "You?"
He nods and I turn, accompanying him to the exit, sticking close to the shadows.