Chapter 2 in a series coupling L & R.
Rating: this chapter PG13 (?), things will develop into a M rating follow this chapter.
Disclaimer: I don't own TMNT, obviously! ;P
Behavior research was pulled from
Warning: adult language, contains yaoi/Tcest relations.
Chilled Warmth
By Zye
'No in-depth studies have determined exactly why hibernation
is necessary to the long-term physiological well being of
'mature' North American Turtles... those that are not allowed
to hibernate usually experience a progressive
physical and mental decline…'
The peoples of New York City breathed a collective sigh of relief as the warm sun finally pieced though the harsh winter's sky for several consecutive days. The light at the end of the tunnel shined brightly and promised the days of covered ears and noses, fluffy down coats zipped to their peaks were finally nearing its yearly completion.
Patches of crushed brown grasses rejoiced as the ice hard dunes of dirtied snow drizzled away in lazy rivulets, flowing dutifully into nearby gutters. Gathering strength in volume the frigid water battered a survivor from the previous autumn, yellowish-brown leaf that desperately clung to a metal grate guarding the entrance to the abyss below.
The liquid rushed onward, following the pull of gravity down the clever man-made system of rusted pipes, spilling into the eroded tunnels of an ancient abandoned subway then, for the unhindered by, returning to the bosom of the sea. The damned remain, trapped by barriers of sentiments and debris; it churns in angry circlets of questionably deep pools. These deep ponds are the very foundation for the micro ecosystems blessedly off the radar of even the most astute environmentalist.
A knoll above the water table pulsated as though the very earth was yawning away the remaining permafrost. Cocooned deep within an incubator of moist soil a giant terrapin began to twitch and stir. Awareness sluggishly returned in the form of fire deep within his abdomen; hunger and thirst demanded movement of his long dormant limbs and muscles. He began to stretch and slowly push the dirt and nesting materials to the side as he emerged from his wintering burrow. The efforts were taxing and he required a brief rest to absorb more 'heat' from the surrounding environment.
The 'heat' he so longingly required seemed to be in short supply as disapproving amber eyes surveyed the surrounding territory; it was much too cool and too dark for his liking. Another slightly smaller, mature male turtle also emerged from the burrow for which he held zero interest for; only finding food and a proper heat source compelled his motivations. It was time to find a place more suitable; gracelessly he belly slid down the gentle incline then staggered to his feet and sniffed. The sweet scent of fresh water lured him to the banks of a subterranean oasis a relatively short distance away.
The abandoned water treatment factually had everything the large terrapin could possibly desire; the slow churning of the storm-drainage feed pool, kept the water crisp and clean. The pool seemed to support a healthy population of fish, algae, and other edible creatures and vegetation. The high ceiling partially opened to the sky allowing in a few strong rays of sunshine; along with broken slabs of concrete and rotting logs that would make ideal sunbathing locations, in short, it was all he could ask for.
The peacefully scene below brought a tranquil ghost of a smile to the groggy terrapin as he set off stumbling towards the shore. Dropping to his knees at the water's edge, he dipped his cupped hands into the cool liquid, raised it to his mouth and drank. Cold lava rushed down his parched throat, his eyes involuntary closed as the simple pleasure made him feel alive. He was alive and this was his territory.
A feral grin spread across his features; slowly he slipped into the cool water and submerged beneath the rhythmic waves. To the bottom of the pool he dove then swam the perimeter, twice; before he climbed upon a slanted concrete slab. He stretched almost catlike then settled flat against the rough surface to bask in the weak but warm afternoon rays.
The other turtle, being unceremoniously left behind, also awoken to stirring urges and after a quick stretch followed a very different scent through the narrow passageway. A scent so tantalizingly familiar, so raw, sweet yet spicy; it stirred within him a primal desire. A blistering need that compelled him to pause and study every remnant of his query, fingering every footprint, touching every impression upon the wall; he stalked into the new territory of the amber eyed terrapin.
Cautiously he froze within the shadows; nostrils flaring, a moist pink tongue swiped across his lips as he watched the impressive, emerald skinned creature glide beneath the water's surface. Taking a slow step into the light, his dark brown eyes dilated with renewed fervor as the other emerged from the pool's depths and draped himself upon a shelf.
There was no question as to what his body was preparing for him to do next; his heart rate increased erratically, muscles tensed and trembled, a warm tightening within his lower plastron and then finally a churr bubbled explosively from his throat. The gruff tune grew in volume, disturbing the tranquil atmosphere and earning him a glance from silted amber eyes.
Now with a captive audience, he puffed himself up and strutted towards the water edge. Moving with award winning showmanship, he churred his rhythmic tunes, flexed his muscles all the while proudly 'demonstrating' his worthiness. Gracefully he dove into the water and like a torpedo propelled toward his soon to be mate.
In a might wave he crashed upon the shelf and towered over his query as water streamed down his frame highlighting is masculine curves of well defined arms and legs. He boldly crouched next to the other and then reached touch that enticing emerald skin.
The amber eyed terrapin shifted slightly under his insistent fingers as his caressed the rough carapace beneath him. He shuttered and held his breathe as those fingers slipped under the rim and fumbled for the other's hidden tail. However the barest touch of skin in that most private of areas resulted in a flurry of movement from the resting terrapin, and he was abruptly discharged from the concrete slab.
Breaching the water's surface some twenty feet from the shelf, he gasped for breathe and glared at the now alert and snarling amber eyed terrapin. So much for a direct approach, why can't it ever be easy?
Michelangelo focused intently on buttering a slice of toast, anything to keep himself from noticing the unnatural stillness of the lair. It's amazing what you take for granted while times are good and whole. Before that fateful day his brothers were swept away by those horribly cold currents, he could run through the lair without a care in the world, now every footstep echoed with lonely emptiness.
Stop that! He mentally kicked himself, butter it needs more butter. Donatello hasn't eaten again today, he's been doing that a lot lately and also he's been losing confidence of finding them. Of course he hasn't mentioned as much to him, Don tries so hard to shield him from the despair but Mike knows.
Try as he might not much escapes Michelangelo; he's noticed Don's smiles are faked, seen the deadened look in those chocolate eyes; and last night he heard him scream and sob into his pillow. It's also the reason he knows that Don hasn't been feeding himself properly.
Seriously the dude's got to eat for that massive brain of his to figure out where they should search yet. There has got to be somewhere they haven't looked yet, some secret, hidden unattainable bottomless pit… ahshell. Mike dropped the knife to cover his eyes as fat tears welled in their corners. His lungs tightened, squeezing his breaking heart as the tears flowed harder; overwhelming his defenses.
"Mikey?" a voice joined his unhindered sobs, "Oh Mike..." and at a loss for encouraging words Don encircled his arms around his little brother and held him tightly until the tears dried.
Sniffing loudly, Michelangelo pushed away and ushered Don to the table then turned to rummage in the cubbies. He quickly scrubbed his eyes and pulled down their finest mismatched china. Slapping down a slightly cracked flowered plate in front of Donnie, Mike smoothed the glob of yellowish cream.
"They're out there Don," Mike sniffed as dumped some butter soaked toast on Don's plate, "I just know it…"
Don swallowed thickly and stared blankly at the drenched slice of toast in front of him, "Mikey…"
Mikey standing in front of the opened refrigerator, quickly interrupted, "You know, I was thinking… maybe we should just start over… you know retrace our steps…"
"Mike," Don sighed and shook his head slowly once, "I don't believe…"
Michelangelo chuckled humorlessly, "You know I bet they'll just hauled up somewhere…" he cracked an egg into a frying pan and grabs a spatula. "Raph gonna be so pissed that he missed trimming the Christmas tree and the Halloween candy and…"
"Mike the chances that…" Don began again.
Mike froze with tensed shoulder, "they're alive Don, and I can feel it."
"No heat? No food? Possible injured? Perhaps ill?"
"Well… we didn't really have those things… I mean like we didn't really have a furnace when we were little; did we?" Mike stirred the cooking eggs thoughtfully, "yeh and we survived winters back then; why can't Raph and Leo now?"
Finally for the first time during the exchange of words their eye met; blues were desperate for reassurance and browns widened with possibility.
TBC…