TMNT, Leonardo, Raphael, Michelangelo, Donatello, Splinter, Prof Stockman, Agent Bishop, and the Foot © Viacom
Original Characters, story © RenaRoo (formerly Turtlefreak121)

A Baby Brother
Chapter Three: In the Crossfire

"I don't think I'm cut out for this. I know you disagree. I know I shouldn't doubt your judgement, but I'm only mortal. He senses that I still blame him for what happened and because of that he can't trust me. I don't say I can blame him. A real leader doesn't dish out blame, he shares it. But I've meditated on this problem for days at a time and I've finally come to the conclusion that ... I'm not a leader. I blame him."

It had once been the hardest thing for him to ever admit out loud. Until the moment that it came through his teeth, Leonardo did not believe he would ever express it verbally. He was even more certain that he would never say it to his master.

Much like the waters of a dam once they have found a leak, however, the second he allowed the first word to pass his lips, the rest came gushing.

Situated on his bed with a stance more like a yogi than a disciple of ninjitsu, Master Splinter was positioned in a perfect lotus, his dark eyes surrounded by oceans of gray fur which had grown long and now draped like waterfalls over his robes. His right hand rested upon his right knee. His left hand rested upon his left stub.

There was a long silence after Leonardo's peculiar announcement and the blue masked turtle was unsure if his master was disappointed, surprised, or both.

At last, participating in some small signs of life, the rat master brought his left hand from his stub to his chin and gently split the hairs of his long, uncut beard with his long nails. The rat was for a moment lost in thought. And then, suddenly, he spoke.

"You have meditated long and hard on this subject, Leonardo? How many days would you say it has been?"

For a small amount of time, Leonardo had to collect his thoughts. "Nearly a week, at least," he responded at last.

"For how many hours?"

Swallowing, Leonardo could not even begin to fathom such a number. Surely his master had a point in all these questions. "Three hours each day, in the least."

"Have you fasted upon this subject?"

Suppressing his annoyance with the very subject, Leonardo bowed his head humbly to the old rat. "Both willingly and unwillingly, Master."

Leonardo was unsure what to expect in response for his last admittance, but it most certainly had not been the return of silence. After what felt like ages of his head bowed to the floor, the older turtle at last looked to the only father he had ever known.

Once again, the old rat had returned to a meditative stance and his cold, dark eyes were upon Leonardo. Behind them, however, the turtle could sense slight disappointment and without saying a single word to him, his master had crushed his heart.

Then he spoke again.

"There is nothing I can do to assist you, Leonardo," Master Splinter sighed. "Your heart is closed off to one of your brothers. If you can still lead the others in this time then I will praise you. Do keep in mind, however, that no matter how right, when your heart is hardened for one of your family, it is hardened to them all."

Feeling as though the old rat had removed a part of his gut, Leonardo sulked out.

"You gonnan done it, Bert," the directionless man muttered as he crossed his arms and looked at the crying mass beneath his close friend's jacket. "I tolja that thing was just much too stiff to comfort him."

"I don't think that's mucha what it is at all, Franklin," the long bearded Norbert replied before kneeling by the naked lad now covered by his jacket. He frowned as he looked at the mutilated child, so disfigured and different from his own, though ragged, appearance. In spite of the physical differences between them, even this supposed "bum" with his one glass eye and tangled mane could see absolute sadness and emptiness within the child. "Do you think the others will come and get 'em?"

The other looked about nervously. He had heard tales of what happened when one was on the bad side of those creatures. He did not want to be anymore associated with this negative situation then he had to be.

"I dona think it matters ta us, Bert. We should be-a gettin' outta here before anyone sees us with him," Frank responded, ignoring the fact that the child's cries had lessened and he was looking shakily at his friend.

The old Norbert merely shook his head and reached over, gently buttoning the jacket he had placed over the little child's body, ignoring how strangely hard his chest was or how broad his back.

"I would want someone to help me," he said with a sigh before looking to the puzzled and irritated Frank. "And I think you would want someone to help you, too."

"We dun't have anythin' but our lives an' the clothes on our backs," he reminded Bert. "What can we give him or anyone else?"

Norbert smiled as he looked into the face of the child who did not understand a word being said. He patted his bald head. "We can give those two things we have, and a friendly hand. Isn't that all we need to give?"

Frank, feeling his stomach's twists of uneasiness, merely hit his own head. "Geezes, Bert. We're gettin' our asses kicked t'night by those green–"

Before another word could be exchanged, the irritated yelling of two men running so very quickly at the two homeless men and their new, young friend, filled the alley with echoes. The worrisome Franklin and the generous Norbert looked up at the frightful white orderlies just as the young child screamed and clamored up. The two confused residents of the alley could barely turn to look at what the child was doing before guns began firing.

There once was a time when he was in a large, blank room. It was too bright and white and in it, everything he saw was fuzzy, incoherent. In his delusional state, he could not tell where the walls started or the floor ended. There existed no one but himself and nearly a dozen children just like him. They were more adjusted to the room than him. They could figure out where they should stop walking in order to not mash their faces into the white walls.

He never could see that well, though. Instead he found himself barely able to stand out of confusion.

This made him an easy target for the men in white. They could sneak up on him while the others huddled together in a group in the corner, hiding in each other's embraces from the sadistic men. No one dared to warn the runt of this litter when the orderlies were coming or where they were lurking already in the white room. If they did that, well, the orderlies would have to find someone else.

This went on for a time. The silent children never came close to their runt, instinctively knowing he would die.

That was, no one came to him until an older child was sent to their room. He was older, taller, and stronger than all of them. His body was riddled with dots, scars from the testing the young litter was not old enough to endure. The most noticeable feature, however, was his triangular jaw which jutted out just beneath a hooked beak. He looked sharp and mean.

On the first day of his time with the younger litter, the older child saw the orderlies enter and head toward the little runt. Before they laid a hand on him, however, the older child ran forth and attacked, biting into their legs with his massive jaw which would simply not let go until the child decided to release his white dressed victim.

It was not too long until more orderlies came and both the runt and the older turtle were beaten.

A bond had already been formed, however, and it was one that would not disappear. The two from that moment on were inseparable and in their silent brotherhood, they watched as the orderlies no longer messed with the two of them, but killed off the other children one by one.

In those times, the older brother would grab onto the runt's hand and pull him, bringing him into a sprint to the opposite corner of the room. It was in that way they kept themselves alive.

As soon as the child released that insufferable squeal, Parker knew what it was. His colleague, unwisely choosing to follow him, barely had time to react before Parker had his gun aimed and began shooting.

"Shit, Parker!" he yelled. "Wake up the neighborhood!"

"What neighborhood?" he responded as the unfortunate homeless man who had been kneeling in front of the lost child went flying backwards with a discouraging crack. The second dove behind a trash bin with a cry to his fallen comrade before another round of shots went off from Parker. "No one cares about what goes on around here!"

The orderlies set their sights on the running child who made his way into the corner of the dead end street. He screamed before huddling up in the corner, seeking solace behind the stiff coat wrapped around him. Parker smirked as he neared the child, he recognized this one alright.

The second grabbed the remaining hobo by his collar and rose him into the air, the man kicking and squirming out of fear for his life. "You're not telling a soul about this, got that, Grandpa?"

"Ya shot Bert!" was all the red nosed man could reply, his jaw quivering in shock. "Bert dun nuttin'! I dun less!"

The orderly did not even give the moaning man behind him a glance as he moaned in a weak attempt to pull himself back up to no avail. The crimson color which began to shine through his clothes was enough to keep that old man from telling a soul. Not that anyone would believe shiftless bums such as them.

"You're not hiding from me, kid," Parker grinned before pointing the gun at the child's tiny feet. "And you're also not going to be running from me. Not anytime soon."

Before the first shot, a shadow emerged from the darkness and tackled the shocked orderly, knocking the gun from his hands and rolling him into another shadow. Parker's partner could barely drop the homeless man and turn around before hearing the crying out of his colleague before a silencing crack.

He knew what was happening and did not dare speak a word.

The remaining orderly eyed his fallen partner's gun before racing forward, knowing it was his only hope for survival. His hand stretched forth, as he stumbled to reach it, but he looked to the shadows just before and found himself hypnotized by the haunting white slits which emerged from the darkness.

"NO!" he yelled just as a forked weapon came slicing through the air. It moved too fast for the orderly to redirect his hand's course and he found himself pierced by its prongs. He let out a scream just before the green creature emerged from the shadows and grabbed him by the sides of his head.

The well practiced ninja prepared to snap the orderly's neck just like Parker's when a second shadow covered them both, causing them to look up as the cloaked figured of another vigilante appeared and landed.

"That's quite enough, Raphael," the shadow said darkly as he rose to a standing position. "Knock him out if you must, but I need him for questioning. You should take this man," he held a red gloved hand to the defenseless hobo behind him, "to the hospital and the child to the Justice Force's Headquarters."

"Why?" the green skinned turtle snarled. "You're the one who said to my brothers and me that sometimes we gotta take justice into our own hands? And why not take the kid to the hospital, too? Or the orphanage?"

The orderly remained quiet, biting his lip in terror as he realized that only the flick of this monster's wrist could mean the death of him.

Nobody pointed to the child. "Because neither of those places would know what to do with it."

"It?" Raphael questioned before pulling the orderly into a headlock and walking over to the child huddled in the corner.

The orderly swallowed as he watched the ninja stare, studying the experiment for a few moments. He shook as he watched Raphael took in what he was seeing; his eyes widening in realization that the skin was rough and textured, his face noseless, and his color a paled green.

"You son of a bitch," Raphael muttered as he looked down at the orderly and brought his face down hard against his knee cap, causing the orderly to black out.

...

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End Chapter Three

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