Rictor sat in his chair was he watched the screens of the cells and fights he had arranged. He looked at all these broken souls that have no longer any meaning widdle away in the wind of his world. Cracking his neck, he looked back at the small room he had placed Michelangelo in nearly a week ago. Supplying him little food and a sufficient enough of water through the small gap at the bottom of the titanium door. He remembered the first few times opening the small door to see Mikey's arms flaring out in hopes for openness, for air to breath. The young turtles panics and screams so audible to for days up until three days ago. The cells went silent. The only noise that was ever heard was the ruffled noise of breath being taken in harshly. Rictor didn't like noise but to hear this turtles cried of distress, to know this child's fear was fuming, to imagine the fear of his face, it was soothing for Rictor. He stood up and stretched his arms behind his back and looked at one of his guards.
"Let's get the little one out." He said smoothly.
Walking over to the small compartment, the guard undid the large metal lock and with a creak, the door opened widely to revile a small turtle, in the corner of the room with his head in his knees and arms wrapped tightly under his thighs, the turtle shivered, and fear still fully attached to his spirit.
The light alarmed Mikey as he looked up to see the door was wide opened and his body responded for him. Standing up, his legs feeling like jelly, He tried to rush to the new found opening, eyes wide and heart racing as if he was going to loose the gift of life. Once he felt his feet leave the cold surface of the room, He landed on his knees and palms, feeling sweat form on his forehead. He panted not out of tiredness but out of fear he was about to loose the only bit of breath he had left.
"Thank god." He thought clenching his fist. His time with only his thoughts was terrifying. The shadows of his past invading everything he ever knew. His enemies laughing at him for his weakness, predicting his fate. But what feared Mikey the most was that he couldn't picture his family. He could barely make out their faces anymore. Their voices, their movements, their warm hearts, all of it were nothing more then a blur. Mikey kept repeating their names, over and over again because he made it his goal to never forget their names. But what he didn't understand is why? Why was his forgetting? He spoke of them often with his friend in the cell, it just didn't add up on why now they were leaving his thoughts. That thought scared him more then anything else this monster would ever do to him.
Mikey was finally brought back to reality when he saw large, black boots in his sight. He slowly brought up to see he was kneeling in front of Rictor. This lizard's lip turned to a pleasured smirk. He enjoyed see Mikey on his hands and knees and Mikey couldn't help but scrunch his snout in disgust.
Rictor kneeled down and cupped Mikey's chin into his hand and forced him to look up at him. His golden eyes were nothing like his brothers. He could only really remember Raph's eyes. They were like burning suns filled with so much compassion and Mikey felt safe. With this man, he felt nothing but hatred. Mikey was never a hating type of guy but this beast was an exception. He has only felt this sort of hate towards Shredder, but he had plenty to give out.
Rictor notice the change in the young turtle's eyes, his hardening heart coming into view. He didn't see fear like he wanted to, he saw anger, a searing anger that made Rictor growl. This little punishment wasn't enough to stop this turtle but Rictor was no where near done playing with his new pet. He sighed as he stood off and decided to wait till next time till played some more.
"Have you learned your lesson little one?" He asked, allowing his sharp teeth to show in a sinful manor. Mikey couldn't help it, but he couldn't stop his reaction. He spit in Rictor face and growled.
"Burn in hell." He felt his adrenaline spike slightly. He felt like Raph for a second; he wanted to giggle at the thought but knew this wasn't the time for that. Rictor growled before slapping Mikey across the face.
Mikey felt the burn of the slap but didn't regret it. This man was lower then trash to him and he would rather die then bend down and praise this maniac.
"Well that was uncalled for." Rictor said and stood up and walked over to one of the far cabinets. Mikey looked back at the ground. His memory was so foggy he didn't understand. He just wanted his family. He wanted Leo to come in and save the day. He wanted Donnie to figure out an amazing way out. He wanted Raph to kick these guy's butts. He wanted his father to hug him close and tell him everything will be okay.
His thought was cut short when his chin was thrusted up to look at Rictor who was holding up a bottle. Mikey got the tender smell of the drink and found it to be alcohol. Mikey could have guessed this guy drank.
"You ever had a drink kid?" He asked. Mikey just stared at him. He tried a beer once when he and Raph went to Casey's. Raph likes that stuff, but the taste never suited for little Michelangelo.
Rictor gave a slight huff and went down on one knee, still holding on tightly to his chin.
"Nah of course not. Not a little guys like you. So how bout it. Wanna give it a try?" He asked, wiggling the bottle of vodka around. The bottle was already opened and half way gone. Mikey could only imagine where it went.
"No thanks. I don't do empty calories." He said trying to get him to release his chin. Rictor smirk before looking up at a couple of his guards. They quickly took hold of Mikey's arms and held them tight so he was kneeling. Mikey fought as hard as he could but he was so tired and felt so weak from the lack and exercise and the absence of a decent meal.
Rictor smiled at the look of his struggle before placing the already opened bottle at the teen's mouth before forcing his jaw open to allow the liquid to flow down his throat.
Mikey's eyes went wide as he felt the burning feeling going down his throat. He lashed out, trying hard to move his head, succeeding only for a slight moment before feeling the cold glass being placed on his mouth once again. He choked as the distasteful feeling flooding his senses. He felt the drink miss parts of his mouth and fall onto his thighs and down his chin and neck. Rictor's hand left his mouth for the bottle was doing a good job keeping his jaw open. His hand moved down to Mikey's thigh and gripping tightly. Mikey could have sworn he heard a purr come from this monsters mouth. His arms began to burn from the pulling of the guards who seemed to be unfazed by the events that were taking place. His body fought against this foreign rain coming down on his throat pushing and heaving trying anyway to get air through. He body was spasming out of control, trying anyway to be released. His head began to swim as his vision was beginning to blur. He felt the rough hand leave his thigh and was brought around his throat, tipping his head back farther till it was direct pressure from the burning substance. He gagged roughly against the straight forward intrusion but couldn't don't anything about it instead suffer through it.
After what felt like a nightmarish decade, Rictor removed the bottle and watched as Mikey fell to the floor heaving the breath he was desperately pleaded for. He got up on one elbow and coughed harshly watching as the last bit of alcohol was removed from this chest and lungs.
He finally steadied his breathing long enough to look up at Rictor. But, his head felt heavy and let it hang still taking heavy gasps of breath.
"Have we learned?" He asked. His voices so smooth it made Mikey wanna vomit. He didn't respond, instead he just let his head hang. His head felt light and couldn't concentrate on what was happening. He hiccupped, trying to stand up on his own but failed. He heard a small chuckle. Rictor was enjoying the sight of Michelangelo loosing his senses. He hated this guy. He hated these games he played but at the moment, Mikey couldn't focus enough to let out any anger.
"Just put me back in my cell please." He thought to himself. He felt the guards pick him up from the pit of his arms and drag him out from the room, leaving a very satisfied Rictor.
When Mikey made it back to his cell, he was thrown in harshly, but he didn't put up a fight. He was too tired to even try. After the door shut, he just laid there, enjoying the face he was able to lay down freely.
"My friend?" A small voice called. Mikey felt a wave of embarrassment flood through him. His friend was there with him and he couldn't help but feel ashamed that he couldn't hold him promise to save him. His friend looked over his body and saw the bruising from a beating he had endured and could also smell the strong sent of Alcohol lingering throught the small cell.
With a groan, Mikey got up slowly, leaning back on the wall he was so accustomed to. He hiccupped once more, still feeling the lingering taste of the drink but felt strangely content with himself. Raphael always told him he couldn't hold his liquor. He looked over to his friend and saw he has not moved since Mikey left. His friend just watched him, observing, trying to predict what the turtle was going to do next. Mikey looked away and looked at the wall. He grabbed a stray rock that lay in the cell with them and shaking out of exhaustion and confusion, he started to carve into the wall.
"Hey can I ask you something?" Mikey spoke up, making his friend perk up his head when he heard Mikey give another hiccup.
"Anything." He simply said. Mikey continued to carve; the no lighting was a little hard but somehow was able to write out what he wanted. He chipped a piece of the wall and it hit him in the face but instead of flinching in pain he couldn't suppress the giggle that bubbled in his throat.
"Do you mind if I give you a name?" He asked, pausing looking over to the old lizard. His eyes were wide by the question. He looked into the young child's eyes and saw they were glazing, he wasn't fully there for some reason.
"I know-I know you had a name and I know you can't remember it, but, I think you deserve to have a name." Mikey said with a soft smile. The old man looked at this young light and saw the pureness in his eyes. His innocence, his soul was merely bruised. He was still the same young turtle he met months ago. For now, he was still Michelangelo.
"I would appreciate that." The lizard smile. Mikey gave a bigger smile. He turned back to the wall and continued to carve into the tough stone that threatened to break his small rock. Finally finished, he sighed in contentment. He looked to see he wrote down: LEO, DONNIE, RAPH, SPLINTER, MIKEY, CAL. The writing was a bit ragged and nothing compared to Mikey's normally bubbly writing but that drink was starting to make everything blur. Mikey has never been drunk but has seen Raph and Casey wasted like no tomorrow and wondered if this is what this feeling was. He hiccupped before feeling over the ruff rock and snickered. He wasn't laughing at the writing or the names he wrote down but was laughing at his own failure.
He looked over the last word he put.
"I hope you don't mind but I picked something kind of simple. You were right, I'm loosing my memory and I don't understand why. Calcifer is what first came to mind but I knew I couldn't remember that for long so I was thinking, maybe just Cal." His eyes glowed with hope it made the lizards heart jump, feeling the same hope the turtle did. He nodded in agreement and Mikey took that offer.
For a while they sat in silence, only the occasional hiccup from the turtle, until Mikey shifted slightly, feeling the pull of his injuries from the beating and could still taste the lingering taste of vodka, stilled in his mouth.
"Can I ask you another question?" Mikey peeped. Cal looked at him and nodded. Before asking, Mikey tried to stand only to fall back down and hit his head against the wall. Letting out a pack of small giggles, Cal looked at the turtle and was curious to know what did Rictor do to him. Mikey looked at the lizard, head rolling slightly.
"Did you loose a fight?" Silence. "I'm just asking because you have been in that same spot since I got here and usually your suppose to be in a fight. Also, they only bring one tray of food and enough water to suffice for one person. So, did you loose?" Mikey asked again. Cal looked at him intently. He could tell Mikey was fighting off another gain of laughs. They weren't laughs for him, they were just a subconscious act activated by what ever Mikey was originally dinking.
"Yes. The beast I fought gave me mercy. I had suffered form many injuries and still a few of my ribs are cracked and a bone in my leg is badly fractured. That is why I do not move." He explained. Mikey felt a twinge in his heart. He no longer felt the earge to laugh. His head clearing just slightly enough to have his mind start to think of his previous actions. He wondered how the dragon was doing. What he suffering? Did he wish Mikey dead for pulling mercy? Mikey shook his head viciously, clearing all those thoughts from his head only to have it flood with a fuzzy cloud and he leaned back looking back at the words he wrote. He remembered their names, but couldn't picture their faces anymore. Not even Raphael's eyes that stuck so clearly in his head before. He sighed as he placed his head on his knees, and curled tightly, only thought was to try and remember something. Anything would put his mind at ease. Even the alcohol couldn't mask the pain he felt and right now, he wished it would.
Master Splinter sat on his mat, in deep meditation trying to reach his lost, young, son. He felt the walls of Michelangelo's mind and that they were blocked by some external force. The hurting feeling in his soul was radiating off of his body he could almost taste it. This feel was uncomfortable and it was making Splinter tired but he knew he couldn't stop in chance that he might loose his son forever. Splinter couldn't help but feel guilt seep deeply into his heart. He took in these young boys to raise them, teach them, love them, and protect them, and that night, he couldn't protect his youngest. Although they fight, they are free to do much; they were all still children and needed much to learn. He feared for Michelangelo more then anyone else not because he was the weakest but because of his insight. He didn't have the instinct to fight like his brothers did. He wanted to always compromise, find a solution instead of physical harm. He saw the beauty in everything but that clouded the darkness that lingered behind the light. Splinter wondered if that is what Michelangelo was doing now.
The creak of the sliding doors brought Master Splinter back to reality when he saw his son walk into the room.
"Raphael, something you wish to discuss?" He asked. The red-banded turtle looked up at his father and nodded. Splinter gestured him to kneel in front of him which he quickly replied. As he sat, Splinter took note that it seemed his son was in deep thought.
"What is the matter Raphael?" He asked. Raph bit his lip before looking up to his father.
"Master, me and the guys were talking and I know Leo or Don wont come to you to talk about this but I gotta try." He admitted. Splinter cocked his head to the side, functioning his son's words.
"What is it?" Asking again. He could tell his son was nervous to talk for some reason and Splinter was getting anxious to know what has gotten his strongest so riled up.
"You-you remembered when you taught us that one thing? That spiritual connection thing back when we were kids and you told us to never use this technique and you taught us it only so we know not to use it?" Raph asked. Splinter sighed predicting Raph's question. To use the spiritual connection to get to Michelangelo to find him.
"Raphael, I know you are concerned for your brothers well being an-"
"Please hear me out Masta." He pleaded. Splinter stopped and looked at his son.
"You remember that one time for a whole month; we were all getting really weird feelings, like warm feelings. Happy thoughts all the time and just everything bubbly for the entire month and then one day everyone felt depressed for a while?" He took a breath and looked at his father. "And we found out it was Mikey using that spiritual connection and so we felt what he felt? He was doing it unconsciously and he had to take extra training to control it?" He finished waiting for a reply from his father to only gain a small nod.
"I think-no, I know its Mikey trying to contact us." Raph admitted.
"That is not possible." Splinter said.
"How? We all know how to do it and-"
"And you all know the dangers of using that technique. You can loose your spirit in the crossing worlds." "I know sensei but maybe Mikey is doing it subconsciously like he did before. You're the one who always says he has unique skill when it comes to the insights and spiritual and crap. What's stopping him from him doing it now?" Raph's anger was beginning to rise, his impatience showing through his armor of emotions. He was frustrated and it was all about to come out.
"What would give you the idea he would use that technique instead of the mental connection I have taught you specifically to use in these certain situations?" Splinter countered. Raph stood up, his defenses going up.
"Because maybe he can't! Maybe there's something stopping him from doing so! I think he's using the Spiritual thing because all of us have a dreading feeling in our souls right now and don't sit there and tell me you don't feel it too Masta Splinter." He pointed at his father. Splinter didn't respond but listened to his son's idea. It could be possible this is what Michelangelo was doing, but he knew the dangers, he knew the consequences so why try it? Unless he was in that much of trouble then it could be better explained.
He gave his hot-headed son a hard look.
"Father please, we need to do something. Mikey's in trouble. That feeling were getting, its not anxiety, it's not our fear, its Mikey's I know it is. We can't sit around here waiting for the Daimyo we either have to go get him and bring him back or look for Mikey ourselves. I think if we use the Spiritual-"
"No." Splinter cut in. Raph's heart fell suddenly. His hope his father would understand this need to find his brother would be enough but he was turned down so easily.
"w-what do you mean no?" Raph asked the irritation in his voice clearly obvious and was rising.
"I will not risk my sons do to such a task."
"Then you do it! Ya got the most training for it you can! You wont get trapped you know you wont so what's stopping you?" Raph yelled.
"Raphael calm down." Splinter instructed, standing up as well. His anger was clear to the turtle but Raph didn't care. This wasn't fair and this wasn't right. They had the chance to get Mikey, find him and yet their father was refusing to.
"What? Are ya afraid I'm might be right? While you, Don, and Leo dance around the subject that Mikey is actually into some deep shit and yet you wanna sugar coat it by saying he's fine because he hasn't contacted any of us yet? Is that what it is? You don't want to be proven wrong?" Raph was taunting, trying to make his father realize they needed to try, trying anything to get a hold of Mikey, see if he's okay. He's calling for them, sending out signals for help and here they all are, ignoring the signals like they're nothing to worry about.
"Raphael control yourself!" He commanded walking closer to his son, which he instantly walked backwards turning his shell to his father.
"You know what? Forget it. I thought I give it a try and tell you what's up but obviously you're just as dunce as the others. What ever Ill find Mikey myself." Raph walked out the room and slammed the sliding doors, making them shake slightly. Splinter placed a paw on his head and sighed. He understood his son's frustration for they are the same as his. Splinter thought and maybe Raphael did have a point. Maybe this was Michelangelo trying to contact them but Splinter feared the risks. He knew if he did try the spiritual connection he would see and feel everything Michelangelo does. He feared of any pain his son was feeling, how scared he might be, and how he would be reminded on how he failed to protect him. But in the end, that was what Raphael was trying to say. Sometimes, you have to break the rules in order to get the answers you are looking for.
Splinter took his seat back on the mat and put his hand on his thighs and bowed his head. Taking a deep breath, he began his journey of the outer body experience looking for Michelangelo.
A/N: Hey everyone I hope the story is to your liking! And to warn you all I will be changing the rating next chapter so warning for now things will be getting more disturbing so turn back now! But I hope you all are enjoying the story and please Review and tell me what you think.