Chapter 2:

[Four days later]

Mike yawned and stretched in his bed, shooting a glance at his alarm clock. It was eleven already… Leo and Don were probably wondering why breakfast wasn't on the table. Damn. He was supposed to have gotten up by six. Must have hit the snooze button…

Stretching luxuriously, the young turtle took a deep breath and let it out with a satisfied groan. Eh, whatever. For the first time in weeks, Mike found that he was actually feeling good. Nearly his old self, in fact.

Reluctant to emerge from underneath the warm covers, he reflected on how glad he was to have woken up to the annoying beeping of his clock rather than the shrieking of the fire alarm. That had happened once, when the youngest turtle had slept in and his brothers had taken the liberty of making their own breakfasts. Michelangelo had rushed into the kitchen to see the stove up in flames and his brothers in a state of panic: both Donatello and Leonardo were simultaneously trying to squeeze into the narrow kitchen closet to retrieve the fire extinguisher while Raphael used a wet dishtowel to snuff out the flames in his bowl of cold cereal.

Cereal. He had managed to burn cereal. It didn't have milk in it, but really that didn't make a difference… no where on the preparation instructions for Fruity Pebbles did it call for any type of heat whatsoever.

Sometimes Mike wondered what they would do without him and his culinary skills. Yup, if it wasn't for Mikey, his family would probably be living in something that closely resembled a fire pit.

He finally rolled out of bed, leaning against the side table for balance as a head rush momentarily blinded him. Trying to shake the nauseating feeling, he stumbled out of his room and made his way out to the central area, heading for the kitchen when a news report on the TV caught his eye. As listened to the pretty brunette's words, he felt his previously good mood begin to plummet.

"Several gang shootings have been reported over the past couple of weeks. Residents of the city are advised to lock their windows, doors, and report any suspicious activity…"

More gang wars. Great. Better not let Leo or Raph see this… Looking around for the remote, he was annoyed to find that it wasn't in any of its usual spots. Reluctantly turning his attention to the sleeping form on the couch, he found to his dismay that the small device was clamped firmly in one of Raphael's large hands, held up against his armored chest.

Wonderful. It would be easier, Mike decided, to just go to the TVs and turn the damn things off manually. That way, unnecessary contact with his pigheaded older brother could be eliminated.

The TV would be off, the news would pass, and Raph wouldn't wake up with Mike trying to wiggle the clicker out of his clammy hands. All life would resume on Earth as it was meant to be.

The TVs went off with an immediate cease of light and sound and, satisfied, Mike made to pass by the couch again. Just as he was turning, however, the entertainment system came back to life.

Raph was watching him. His eyes were red-rimmed as he stared at his younger brother, creased eyebrows and tense posture betraying his foul mood.

For his part, Mike momentarily froze under his brother's glare before deciding it would be best if he just left. He took a sideway step around the coffee table, prepared to pass by the hothead without a second glance.

Raph, however, seemed to have other ideas. In one fluid motion he stood and placed his bulk in between Mike and the kitchen, the remote still clutched too tightly in his hand.

"I was watchin' that."

Mike moved his gaze to the floor and wouldn't look up. "My fault," he offered without sounding the least bit apologetic, "thought you weren't awake."

In response, Raph lifted his arm and pointed a huge finger inches from his temple. His entire arm quivered, blue-purple veins spider-webbing around his muscles. "Does it look like I was sleepin'?"

Biting back any rude comebacks that threatened to surface, Mike shifted from one foot to the other, recognizing the situation he was in and thinking hard for a way out of it. "Look, Raph, I said I was sorry." He still didn't mean it, and he still made no effort to show it. Holding up his hands, Mike continued, "its alright… just go back to your show. I don't want trouble. I just wanna put some breakfast on the table."

With a growl that bordered on the edge of a roar, Raph took a step forward, flinging out his arm in the process. Propelled by the powerful thrust, the little remote flew through the air until it made contact with a far wall, splintering into several pieces which tingled and clattered to the floor.

Keeping the space between the two of them constant, Mike took a step back, his mind thinking about the entertainment system behind him and how much it would hurt to be thrown into it. Hands still up, he protested, "Raph, stop. It was just a mistake-" He dropped to the floor as a pillow went soaring by overhead, then jolted forward, fearful that one of the TVs would be knocked off balance and land on his shell. Thankfully, the system remained stationary.

Raphael, however, did not.

Rolling, Mike felt air rush by him as Raph sped by, shoulder angled to tackle him had he remained there. He barely had time to straighten himself before his brother was at him again, this time lunging and catching him around the waist.

Now on the ground and fully aware that he risked serious injury if he didn't move to defend himself, Mike brought down a padded elbow on his brother's skull. Lightening fast, Raph let go and responded with a downward shove to his brother's abdominal area, effectively knocking the air out of the smaller turtle and giving himself the chance to straddle his waist and aim a punch at the Mike's cheek.

He was rearing back for a second punch when he was grabbed from behind and forcefully pulled off his victim. Through the red haze of his anger, Raph could just feel the other person's hot breath against his cheek as they barked in his ear: "Enough!"

Struggling to overpower the person behind him, Raph lunged forward, then pulled back, slamming his shell into hard plasteron. However, the more he fought, the tighter the hold on him became, until Raphael found his arms fully locked and useless. He dropped to his knees, growling stubbornly.

"Enough," the voice said again, this time softly. "Stop it, Raph."

"Let go," Raph ordered, struggling to keep the tremble out of his voice, not understanding the full reason behind his constant mood swings. "Leo, let me go."

Leo did. Without a second glance, Raph stood and made a beeline for the second floor.

Choosing this time to emerge from his lab, Don watched Raph disappear into his room before turning to view the rest of the scene before him. With all the noise, the purple-masked turtle had actually expected the damage to be worse.

"What's going on?" The question was directed at Leo.

Having rolled onto all fours, it was Mike who answered, sourly, "Raph's friggin' insane, that's what." He spat blood onto the floor, muttering something about Raphael being a homicidal maniac who should be locked in a room until he could learn to control his "damn self."

Barely turning his head to glance over his shoulder, Leonardo let a string of Japanese syllables roll quietly off of his tongue. Nodding, Donatello obediently retreated back into his lab, closing the door with a muffled click.

With Don and Raph both out of the picture, Leo moved before Mikey, bending his knees slightly and holding out a hand of assistance. Mike reached up, but instead of taking the offered hand he grabbed Leo's wrist and pushed his arm away before bringing himself to his feet.

The two turtles stood silently for a moment, Leonardo watching Mike as he shifted uneasily on his feet. After his younger brother's refusal for help he fought the urge to place a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"You okay?"

"Yeah," Mike answered. Wiping away the last of the blood on his cheek, he looked up at his brother, nodded, and spoke again, "yeah, I'm good."

Leo tilted his head to the slightly side, something he had a habit of doing before asking a question. "You know what happened?"

Mike took a deep breath, then exhaled slowly. "Not really," he said, then, seeming to reconsider, said "well, sortof." When Leo only raised his eye ridges slightly, he continued, "I turned the TVs off, thinking Raph was asleep, and I guess he wasn't, because he flipped." He paused, then said, "Unless he really was out and I woke him up and he was just looking for some way to stir shit."

Leo straightened, crossed his arms. "Should have just left it."

"Gee, ya think?"

"Watch it," Leo reprimanded, then, "Since when did you become interested in energy saving? I don't ever recall you turning off the television without having to be asked to do so."

The orange-masked turtle blinked. "What?"

"Well, why did you even go for it? Turning them off, I mean."

"Didn't want the added noise," Mike tried. He knew it was a weak attempt and expected his brother's disbelieving tone in his answer.

"Uh huh." Leo was moving to the TVs even as he spoke. He stood lightly stepped over the pillow that had been thrown earlier and stopped, his hand hovering over the power button. "I'm not stupid, Mikey, and neither are you. Noise never bothered you before. And since you've lied to me, I have to admit that my curiosity has piqued…" He let the implied question hang.

Mike only shrugged. Leo pressed the power button and sat on the couch.

Knowing that the report would be done by now, Mike relaxed. He knew he was still in hot water from his not-so-subtle lie, but at least the most obvious evidence was covered.

Suffice to say he was confused when Leo turned to face him and said, calmly, "I already knew about that." Shifting slightly so that Leo was out of the way, Mike glanced at the screen. There was something about a new museum opening on, and nothing about the previous report.

Leo's voice brought his attention back to the situation at hand. "This is a repeat of the five o' clock news. I already saw the report this morning, well before any of you were up."

Wondering if he was screwed, the younger turtle tried to read his brother's expression. He couldn't see any anger there, but that meant nothing when dealing with Leo, Master of the Blank Visage.

Having been through this conversation multiple times with both of his more passive brothers, Leo skipped right to the point. Fixing his blue eyes on Michelangelo's hazel ones, spoke slowly, as though he wished to physically drill his words into his brother's head. "Master Splinter wouldn't have wanted us to live in fear."

Mike stared at him evenly, also very familiar with the song and dance. "He wouldn't have wanted us to constantly look for revenge, either."

"And what do figure all of our training up until his death was for?"

The younger of the two fought the urge to reach out and slap his brother. Instead, he turned and walked a few paces toward the kitchen before facing him again, wanting to keep the conversation short. It was incredibly uncharacteristic of Leo to make such leaps without first applying more thinking to it… especially when it came to Splinter. Then again, the events of the past few months had changed them all.

"Our training is for self defense, Leo." Mike wasn't hiding his frustration. If the argument kept going in this direction, Leo wouldn't be either. "Yes, Splinter wanted us to kill the Shredder. But this is different. The guys who shot him? They're dead. Remember?" He pointed a thick green finger in Leo's face. "You -and Raph- you guys killed them." What more, the gunmen hadn't been a part of the clan which they had been trained to destroy- they were only a bunch of thugs looking to steal some cash.

Leo leapt over the back of the couch. Approaching his brother, he laid a hand on his own chest, adapting an empathetic air.

"Look, I know how you feel." He ignored Mike's growled 'bullshit,' continuing as though his brother hadn't spoken at all. "But that was several months ago, Mike. Its not like every time we go out there one of us is going to be killed."

"Yeah, so far you've proven that one, Leo." Mike paused, swallowed. "But its only a matter of time! One of those punks is gonna get lucky again. And then what? You and Raph both go out alone- there's no one there to drag you back if you get hurt. There's no one around to pick up your body if you've been killed on contact, like Master Splinter was.

"You two go out there, and you run the risk of dying, all for nothing. And if something happens, and you're separated from your cell, then the rest of us won't know where you are, or what the hell happened to you. So we'll run around, hoping to God that you're still alive- only to find you dead. Or maybe you'll just be lost forever. And then this whole damn process starts all over again, except its worse, because not only are we another family member down… Said family member didn't die so that the rest of the clan could escape, but went out and got bullets up his ass because of his own selfish need to take care of what the damn humans should have to deal with on their own."

Leo stared hard at the younger turtle. As it was, Mike had already bluntly accused Raphael of the same thing that he was implying here. Anger and hurt rose within him, and even though a voice in the back of his mind screamed for him to control himself, he was already speaking and couldn't stop.

"Are we talking about a possible family experience here, or is it just you?"

Mike didn't answer straightaway, only looked at his brother. "Last time, we almost lost Raph." He paused again to reassess words not yet spoken and shook his head, voice deepening slightly with the strain of emotion. "We did lose Raph… and then some. And we're losing you."

"Innocent people are dying." Leo crossed his arms, and Mike sighed. He didn't usually argue with his older brother, and under normal circumstances he would have dropped the subject. But things has changed… paranoia had free reign over his mind.

"And one of those innocent people could be you. The cops will get to them."

"Eventually. But how many more people are going to die before the police finally put them all away? Something needs to be done."

"But why does it have to be you?"

"I repeat myself, Mikey… Innocent people are dying. I am honor bound to-" He stopped abruptly as Mike growled and punched the couch in a very uncharacteristic display of anger. The tattered sofa jolted, it's wooden legs making a grinding noise against the stone floor of the sewer. Leo raised an eyeridge. It wasn't like Michelangelo to get this angry so quickly.

Then again, maybe this had been long coming.

"Danmit, Leo, don't you get it? I don't care how many 'innocent' people die, as long as it isn't one of my brothers!"

Leonardo stared hard at the youngest terrapin. All trace of control was rapidly dissolving from his features, and being replaced with anger. "How can you be so selfish? I'd expect a comment like that from Raph, but never from you. Don't you remember, after what we went through as a family after Splinter's death? Don't you think that the families of the victims that were already shot are grieving as well? Do you even care?"

Mike raised his head to meet Leo's gaze, putting all of his anger and desperation into his eyes. "Is this why you want to stop them so badly? Because you remember the grief that we went through, that we're still dealing with? Leo, I doubt that they would have given three shits about us if they knew about Master's death. They all hate us to begin with. They don't even give us a chance, they just… we're too different. The humans would never have helped us… why should we help them?"

"Because they are defenseless. Because they don't deserve to go through the pain that we have. Because they just misunderstand us, as they have a tendency to misunderstand each other! What about Casey and April?" At the mention of the two humans, Mike broke eye contact once again. Leo continued, "They befriended us! They became a part of this family, and helped us a much as they could through our toughest times." He paused. "Michelangelo, what ever happened to the times when you used to slip on a cape and run around as Turtle Titan, helping people for the 'greater good'?"

"Because there is no greater good. It took me a few hundred people screaming at the sight of me to realize that."

Leo was suddenly struck by a thought, and his anger seemed to move his mouth to form the words on its own. "Was it the people screaming, or the fact that a human took Splinter away from us?"

He regretted saying that almost as soon as it left his lips. Mike turned to him, anger making the orange flecks around his eyes glow like wildfire. When he spoke, his voice was unusually deep from barely kept back anger, "You know what? You want to go and get killed so badly, then go ahead. See if I care. But just remember in your dying thoughts that I tried to stop you."

With that, he turned his back and made his way up the fire escape, not stopping when Leo called his name. He turned in the direction of his room, his vision blurred and his eyes stinging as he fought a losing battle to maintain his composure. He only made it just past Raphael's room when a strangled sob escaped him, and he fell to his knees, slamming his fists down against the rough cement flooring.

He was suddenly jolted from his breakdown as a loud crash came from Raphael's room.