"Don't look at me like that." Mikey glared. "Look," he reasoned. "I invited you to lunch and I feed you and that's it. You don't get anymore."
Large, sad, pleading eyes stared back at him.
"Oh fine. Here have it."He pulled out a marshmallow and flung it away.
The squirrel chattered in appreciation as it grabbed up the tiny treasure of food. He packed it into his cheeks and scampered off.
"That was my last marshmallow!" He called back to the greedy animal. The squirrel chattered in response from his spot in a large oak tree. Suddenly the tiny animal's head snapped to one side. His already saucer like eyes grew two sizes wider. He whipped around and scampered off with his tail high in the air.
Michaelangelo went on alert the second that the tree fox sensed something. It was another few seconds before his less sensitive ears picked up on anything. There was the crunching of leaves. The sounds of each leaf disintegrating beneath a heavy shoed foot were few and far between. Whoever was in the woods was trying to be quiet.
Mike shot up the same tree the squirrel had just been in. He didn't have the same lighting quick speed but dexterity was on his side. In a split second he was up the large oak tree and hiding among the branches and leaves. It was another few minutes before the other people made themselves known. They each held a gun of some sort, their hands clenched tightly around the machines of wood and steel. They seemed nervous but determined. It became clear to Mike that they were hunting for Cokey.
He placed a hand on a nunchaku as they crept past, seriously considering the option of taking them out. They weren't bad though, just misguided. He waited in the tree until the farmers had been long gone. Then he climbed back down.
If there were more people in the woods looking for Cokey, he had to find her first. Mike hefted his pack more snuggly across his shoulders and picked up his pace. He had to find Cokey tonight.
Daredevil laid back on the coach, his feet propped up on the coffee table and his head rocked back. A can of root beer was held loosely in his right hand, resting on his belt. He still had his suit on but he had taken off the mask awhile back.
Raph sat, still investigating the computer. He had long ago asked all the questions he wanted to with Daredevil. Daredevil had showed him a few tricks to help him fight.
"So, how much can you see?" Daredevil asked.
Raph took a sip of his own can of pop. "Enough, I can see in shades of gray. I know there is a light on that side table over there, that there is a florescent bulb in the kitchen probably over the sink, that I am sitting on a love seat, and the coffee table this laptop is sitting on is about two feet wide."
Daredevil nodded. "So can you see colors?"
Raph shook his head. "Not really. The sun looks red and bright lights look a light gray or white. I can't see any sharp details and anything farther than two feet in front of me is pretty much hopeless of identifying. It's really all varying degrees of gray. How about you?"
Daredevil snorted. "I can't see crap. I have to rely completely on my other senses."
"So you can't even tell when you're looking at the sun or whether you're in a dark room?"
"The accident with the radio active chemicals left my pupils clouded over. It was so severe that no light is let through the lens now. I can tell where the sun is by the heat but I can't see it."
Raph nodded. They dropped into silence for awhile. Raph fingered the new chip on his shell.
"I could have ended up killing you tonight D."
Raph leaned back loosing interest in the computer.
"But you didn't. Besides I don't kill that easy."
"But I could end up doing it again."
"We fixed that though, remember?"
"Yeah." Raph sighed. "But there's still that chance though ya know? Like I might end up hurting someone. I don't fight as much as I used to."
"Well wouldn't that be a good thing?"
"Not if I can't help my bros in a scrape. I used to just let my brothers handle it. I was more of a hindrance than a help. The only way they could talk to me was by actually talking and that often times gave away out position."
"So what'd you do?"
"We use sign language. Leo, my brother, he started it. He was watching some show on TV when I guess it suddenly struck him…
Mikey hung his legs off the arm of his Sensei's chair.
"Board board I'm so board." He hummed in a sing song voice. "Don are you done yet?"
He arched his back. Rolling back his head he stared upside down at his brother who was seated on the coach watching the television. Don continued to stare at the TV ignoring Mikey completely. Mike let out a loud sigh and continued to sing to himself.
Don rolled his eyes frustration and glared at his brother. "Mikey! Would you quiet yourself! I'm trying to watch this biography here."
"It's in black and white." Mike whined.
"They're real life photos."
"They're boring!"
"It's an important part of American History!" By now Donny had forgotten about the show and was more interested in defending his love for the biography channel. Mike snorted.
"It's old people talking about nothin. Hey, what's on Cartoon Network?"
He made a move for the remote and Don protested loudly.
"Hey! I was watching that!" Don jumped up and chased Mike who was already running around the room with the control.
In the dojo Leo rolled his eyes.
"You guys can be so immature sometimes ya know that?" He wondered closer to the living area to enjoy the ensuing fight. He leaned against the back of the couch and watched Don yell and scream at Mikey. Those two didn't fight very often but when they did it was guaranteed to be funny. Leo smiled and shook his head in wonder. Brothers. He turned his attention to the TV program the dispute was all about. There was a little girl on the screen tottering around on unsteady legs. She stumbled about with her hands waving in front of her and her head down. Leo had seen those kinds of mechanics before. The girl was blind. A boring documentary voice droned on behind the picture.
"But Ms. Sullavin refused to give up on her one and only student. Even though Helen was deaf and blind Ms. Sullavin found ways of teaching her. She would make Helen touch an object then she would sign the word of the object into her hand."
Leo watched as the girl's tiny hands rammed into something. She felt it all over and pushed an open palm into seemingly no where. The women next to her came forward and pushed her own hand into the little girl's. The lady moved her fingers about in some sort of pattern. The little girl smiled. She patted the object she had just touched and moved her fingers about in her mentor's hand the very same way.
"Through sign language Helen was able communicate with the sighted world."
Leo's smile disappeared, as he became entranced with the show. There was a triumphant shout from behind him and the TV suddenly changed channels.
"Hey! Turn that back!" Leo snatched the control off Mike lighting quick with the authority of any leader. He switched the channel back but they had cut to a commercial break.
"Don who was that?"
"Helen Keller." Don answered as he settled himself on the couch again.
A huge grin split across Leo's face and he threw his head back.
"Raaaph! Hey Raph!" He practically skipped off to Raph's room.
Mike cocked an eye ridge in suspicion at his older brother. "What's wrong with him?"
Don shrugged.
Leo hopped up to the second floor and burst through Raph's bedrooms door.
Raph stood in the corner knocking around his punching bag. He let his hands fall as he hung his head back. A soft sigh of frustration escaped his lips.
"What?"
Leo snatched Raph's hand up. He flipped Raph's palm upward and quickly signed into it, meanwhile practically dancing with excitement.
"What the shell are you doing Leo?" Raph accused as he pulled his hand away.
Leo snatched it back with that silly grin still plastered all over his face.
"Feel."
Leo repeated the movements more slowly into Raph's palm.
"Stop. Take two men and go west. Yeah so?" Raph felt the movements Leo used and recognized them as Army signals.
Leo stayed silent for another minute, allowing what Raph just experienced to sink it. When it was clear that it wasn't going to he sighed. Practically bouncing on his heels he waved his arms about.
"Raphael think about what you can do now."
Leo took his hand again and signed more messages to him.
Slowly as Raph comprehended the messages Leo was conveying, a smile spread across his face as well.
"Does this mean…"
Leo nodded his head up and down as he practically shouted.
"Yeah it does! It does!"
Raph's face adopted the very same silly grin as he squeezed Leo's hand in excitement.
"Sensei!" He roared as both brothers went tumbling out of the room and towards the stairs. "Sensei! Raph can come on patrol with us again!"
Raph chuckled to himself.
"Ya know, I think Leo was happier than I was when he figured that out. Before we did that I could go topside but couldn't do any serious missions or really help out in a fight. I'd end up giving away our position and messing things up. That night Leo and I went out practically looking for a fight."
Raph shook his head.
Brothers.
Mikey let out a sound half between a sigh and a shiver. He rubbed at his well muscled arms and observed the rapidly growing darkness around him. It was getting too late to be walking around in the woods and the temperature had dropped quickly as the sun went down. He would have to stop and make camp for the night.
Mikey dropped to his knees and cleared an area for a fire. He shivered a little from the cold as he pulled out his matches. Silently he kicked himself for not bringing a sweater. It was getting well into the fall season and Mike knew the temperature would only be getting colder throughout the night. The wind that had been blowing steadily throughout the day hadn't helped any. Mikey pulled a match from the thin cardboard box. He struck it against the side of the box and muttered darkly to himself when it burst into flame only to blow out. Mike was in a dark mood, well as dark of a mood as Mikey could be in. Not finding Cokey that day had only made him rather cross. He took out another match, then another, and another. Each match let a small flame of hope glow momentarily, taunting the green humanoid, before it would sputter out. Mikey cursed as another match sizzled out between his fingers. He slid the box open once again and slid his fingers into the box. Nothing. He had run out of matches.
"Oh no." His tone was that of disbelief. He pulled the cardboard box the whole way out of it's cardboard cover and turned it upside down in his hand. Nothing. He dumped his pack out and riffled through all his things one by one. Nothing. "No, no no!" Mikey mumbled, his voice growing louder and more frustrated at each affirmation. He found his shell cell and punched in a number.
Donny picked up the phone. Mike cold tell by the sharp, biting tone in Don's voice that he had interrupted him in one of his projects.
"Donny!" He grasped hold of the phone with his other hand. "Donny I was walking through the woods and these farmers went but looking for Cokey and I know I had to hurry up and find her so I walked farther than I should have and it got dark and I got matches but I don't have any matches now. It's cold out and Donny I'm gonna die!" The whole account tumbled out of Mikey's mouth like a water fall. Don was hard pressed to even be able to comprehend what Mikey was spewing forth. Only the last part came out crystal clear. Mikey was panicking.
"Alright Mike. Just calm down and give me a sec."
Mikey closed his eyes and tried to control his steadily increasing heartbeat. Over the phone he could hear Don tapping at his keyboard.
"I'm going to freeze to death out here Don." Mikey whimpered.
There was silence from Don for a few seconsd before he chuckled. "Relax Mike. It's only going to go down to forty five degrees tonight. You'll be cold but you wouldn't die."
"No Don! It's cold! I'm gonna be discovered as an ice cube out here a millennium from now! They're going to have to thaw me out and.."
Donny rolled his eyes.
"Good night Mike."
Mikey nearly screamed as he heard Don cut the connection.
After a few seconds at staring in disbelief over his brother's utter aloofness, he put his shell cell away with a sigh. If Don said he wouldn't die then he wouldn't die. He curled up beside his unlit fire and hugged his pack close. He shivered a little as he closed his eyes and attempted to drift into the land of slumber.
Mikey sighed as he rolled over and snuggled deeper into his blanket. He should really get up and start looking for Cokey, but he was so cozy he really didn't want to move. Mikey slowly opened his eyes and moved his arms above his head in a stretch. His hands collided with something warm and soft. As his eyes focused Mike became aware of the greenish brown fur that surrounded him. Untangling himself from the lanky limbs he squealed in surprise and delight.
"Cokey!"
He threw himself at the green animal, wrapping his short arms around her as far as they would go. He embraced her in a big hug. "You're alright!" he reached into his belt to find some pistachios. It was empty. "Hey." He gave Cokey a mock glare. "You took my nuts!" He turned and bent over his pack to get out some more.
Cokey let out a cry and pounced on her adoptive father's back. She was bigger than Mike had remembered though and her weight brought him to the ground. His hands lay out before him and his eyes grew large as the air was forcibly expelled from his lungs. Cokey got up with another happy cry and beat her balled fists on the ground. Mikey groaned as he rolled over holding his stomach. "Ow." He pushed himself up with another groan and muttered weakly. "Cokey, you got a tad bit bigger."
Over the past three years she had grown to be about Mikey's height. She obviously hadn't forgotten her foster parent because she danced circles around him, hopping and pounding her fists in the leaves.
Mikey chuckled despite the ache in his chest.
"Come on Cokey. We got to go have a talk." He held out a handful of pistachios, which Cokey took eagerly.
Mike held some more in his fists and walked in the general direction of the farmhouse.
It took Mikey all day to hike out of the woods with Cokey in tail. The afternoon turned out to be a rather hot one despite the previous cold night. Mikey had a bead of sweat forming along his brow as he stepped clear of the woods and into the farmhouse backyard. Almost as soon as he had time to take stock and look around he stepped back behind the wood line pushing Cokey back with him. There was a car in the driveway, a hunter green SUV. It was mud covered from the long trip down the dirt road. The car wasn't April's and it wasn't Casey's. Mikey emptied his belt of the rest of the pistachios that he was carrying and deposited them in front of Cokey who munched on them contently. He carefully pulled a nunchaku from his belt.
"Stay here Coke. I'll be right back."
He crept forward in a stealthy silence that only a ninja could achieve, across the yard and toward the farmhouse.
Mikey crouched below the kitchen window seal. Ever so slowly he lifted his head, peeping into the house.
He almost gasped aloud as he saw the owner of the green SUV parked out front. He thought for sure that Cobart was dead, yet here he was in flesh and blood. Mikey watched as he ransacked the house. He clenched his jaw as he gripped his nunchaku tighter. This man was an assassin, a mercenary out for hire. He had almost killed Raph, and Don had been seriously injured in that fight. Now he was ransacking the farmhouse.
Mikey released his other nunchaku from it's place in his belt. Giving them both a test swing he started to rise form his crouch. This guy had to be taken care of before he did anymore damage to the family. Mike got up and slunk around to the back door near the kitchen. He just turned the corner of the house when he saw Cokey come lumbering toward him.
His eyes grew big and he prayed that Cokey wouldn't make any noise. She was rather mouthy and any sound at a time like this could leave them both bullet ridden. He glanced back at the house, trying to decide between Cokey and bringing Cobart down. With a silent sigh Mikey placed his weapons back in his belt. He rushed over to Cokey and grabbed a hand full of her thick green fur as he led her back into the woods. Once they got to the safety of the woods Mike sat down on a log. Cokey flopped down beside him. Mike gave her a few strokes along the back.
"This isn't good Cokey. This isn't good at all."
Cobart frowned as he kicked over the couch. With a sweep of his arm he cleared all the pictures off the mantle. He crouched down, shouldered his gun, and sifted the pictures from the broken wood and glass. Most of them were pictures of who knew who, but one had the turtles, his arch enemies, as their focus. All four of them were there, one sticking out his tongue, two more smiling broadly with their arms slung around each others' shells, the other rolling his eyes and trying to hid a smile. The one turtle, the red one, had his eyes focused on the camera. He hadn't always been blind Cobart reminded himself. The picture had been taken at that very same farm house. It was no use to him. He dropped it back onto the floor and continued his search. Cobart moved up the stairs and into the first of the bedrooms, his M-6 locked and loaded safely in his hands. A knapsack. He up turned it and dumped out its contents with the tip of his gun. Someone was here. He immediately went down into the kitchen, regretting all the noise he had made. Cobart yanked open the fridge, nothing. He went over to the sink, it was dry. With a frustrated growl he spun in a circle. Whoever it was had been gone for a few days or at least hadn't used the kitchen for awhile. He stalked out of the house and headed toward the barn. He slammed the butt of his gun against the long bolt holding the door closed. The rusty latch grated open and Cobart leaned against the huge door, sliding it open with his body weight. He slipped into the barn and allowed himself a grin. A motorcycle, one mud covered motor bike. Cobart slipped his knife out and chipped some of the mud from the body. The thicker parts were still wet. He hadn't been here long. They had no food though, they'd have to leave for town. He'd find them, but the fight wouldn't go down here. No, there were too many bad memories here. He'd follow them back to their underground Lair. Then he would put his plan into motion. They would die. Yes, they would all die very slowly.
"Mikey your cat just knocked over and broke a whole rack of my test tubes." Don growled into the phone.
"Some greeting. Wait don't respond to that. We've got other things to worry about. Guess who came to visit me, probably with the intention of killing me today."
"Angry farmers."
"No."
"Touch and Go."
"No."
"Bishop, Kirai, Shredder, that Australian Hunter Guy, The Garbageman?"
"Boy, we have a lot of enemies don't we? No, no, no, no, and no."
Don took a breath, intending on continuing the list. Mike broke in.
"I saw Cobart. He was sneaking around. I think he's looking for us."
"Oh boy." Don rubbed at the two scars that stretched their way across his plastron. He vividly remembered that night in his mind. He had two ugly reminders etched in his chest.
"Where is he now?"
"Well he was snooping around the farmhouse, probably looking for clues about us. I was gonna take him out but Cokey, oh yeah. I found Cokey. Anyway, Cokey came out of the woods and I didn't want her to give us away so I left."
"Is he gone now?"
"Yeah," Mike sighed. "But that might not be a good thing."
"Well do you want us to come up to you?"
"Nah, I'm fine. I want to spend a bit of time with Cokey and if you all came here then Cobart might find the lair and wreck it too."
"Okay, but be careful Mike."
"Yeah, you too bro."
Cobart loafed in the back of the convenience store Mikey had been in two nights before. He slowly paced past the glass doors as if trying to decide which beverage to buy. In his peripheral vision he kept an eye on the cashier as she rang the last customer out. Taking his time, he strolled up to the check out.
A young smiling teen with a square pin attached to her shirt reading Molly leaned against the cash register. She flashed her pearly white teeth at him and Cobart immediately labeled her as a ditsy blonde. Despite his thoughts on her though he gave her a civil nod in return. He placed his purchases, a bag of beef jerky and a sports drink, on the counter. She proceeded to ring them out. Her eye brows crinkled in puzzlement as she glanced up at his hard features.
Cobart had a boony hat on to cover his bald, scared head and soften his murderous attributes. His guns he reluctantly left in the passengers seat of his SUV parked outside.
"I haven't seen you around here before. Are you new to town?" Her voice was that of an inquisitive child. This would be too easy.
Cobart leaned on the counter nonchalantly.
"Nah, I'm actually here looking for someone. Do you know who owns that big run down farmhouse on the east edge of town there?"
"The Jones farm?" She hit the total button and Cobart gave her a ten dollar bill. The cash register drawer dinged and she was silent for a second as she calculated his change. "I think Casey owns it now. Why do you ask?"
Cobart shrugged. "I was just thinking about buying it. When I went by he wasn't home though. Do you know where he might be?"
"I think he has an apartment in New York City. He only comes up every now and then. I wouldn't be sneaking around there though if I were you. He's a bit of a grouch when it comes to people snooping around his place." She gave Cobart his food and change.
"Thank you ma'me." With a nod and a tip of his hat he was out the door.
Cobart allowed himself a quick half smile as he headed out the door. On his way to his SUV he dumped his purchases in a garbage can. He climbed into the cab and drove off.