Chapter Two: The Suitcase

Years Later….

"What I wanted to be?" Splinted asked.

"Yeah," Michelangelo added. "Like what did you wanna be when you grew up?"

The Hamato family was sat down at dinner, a lovely dinner of take-out Persian food. The restaurant was suggested by April and Karai and although the turtles were initially put off by the strong smell, one bite of the lamb stew was enough to convince them (not to mention a little "coercing" from their big sisters). As per usual, Splinter sat at the head of the table, Leonardo and Raphael at either side followed by Donatello, Karai, and Michelangelo, who was already on his third helping of kebabs and pilaf.

Splinter chewed thoughtfully on his kebabs as his children waited for an answer. He had always known he would be a ninjutsu master, but he had a feeling his son would want a more substantial answer. He gestured at his children. "I suppose I wanted to be this: a respectable man with a good family…or a comedian."

His children just about spat out their meals.

"It is true," Splinter insisted. "One simply needs a good harisen. Now the question falls on you, Michelangelo."

"What I want is to be a good friend," he said confidently.

"Lame," Raphael jeered.

"What?" Mikey whined.

Splinter shot his red-banded son a stern look. "I think it is a noble goal to attain."

"Yeah," Leo agreed. "What's wrong with it?"

"It's kinda vague," Donnie added.

Mikey scratched the back of his head. "Smaller words, Donnie. Smaller words."

"How have you not heard that word before?" Donnie countered.

"Back to the subject," Karai insisted. "Just what do you mean by 'lame', Raph."

"Okay," Raph began, a mischievous twinkle budding in his eye, "Let's say this happens: it's a dark and stormy night-just like tonight. And you're at home-let's say-reading a comic book or sat down at dinner. Suddenly, there's this frantic knocking at the entrance. You go over there and you see it's a good friend of yours. You let him in and he's got this crazy look in his eye, like he just saw a ghost. He's all beat up and he's holding a club in one hand…and in his other hand is a suitcase with something red dripping out of it."

"What's inside the suitcase?" Mikey asked anxiously.

"Here's where that goal of yours is tested," Raph answered. "Inside the suitcase…is a dead body. Your friend just committed a murder."

There was a chorus of disgusted sounds and comments from their other siblings.

Splinter cleared his throat, silencing everyone in the room. "This is hardly good table conversation."

Raphael shrugged. "Sorry, Sensei. But seriously, Mikey. Your friend just did something horrifyingly bad. What would you do? Would you side with him, or would you rat him out to the cops? Just how far would you go for a friend?"

"Umm," Mikey began.

"Knock knock!" came from the lair's entrance. They knew that voice.

"It's Casey," said Raph. He stared at the curtain that separated the kitchen from the rest of the lair. "Wonder what he wants…Mikey, go find out."

"Why I gotta do it?"

"We'll put it to a vote," Karai suggested.

"Mikey," everyone but Splinter chorused.

With an audible "ah, man" Mikey stood up disappeared behind the curtain.

Raph nudged Karai's shoulder. "You're getting' good at this."

As quickly as he left, Mikey returned, visibly pale and panting as though the breath had been shocked out of him. He pushed his shell up to the curtain as if her were trying to keep someone out.

"What is wrong?" Splinter asked.

"C-C-Casey," he gasped, "he's got a suitcase with him!"

"A suitcase?" Karai echoed, nearly spitting out her dinner.

"A suitcase!"

"Oh man!" came Casey's panicked and trembling voice.

The Hamato family couldn't have rushed out of the kitchen fast enough, Mikey being the last to follow suit. Sure enough, there was the suitcase in question, sitting idly in the middle of the den. Leaning over it and panting was a very distraught-looking Casey Jones. His dark hair was plastered onto his face with sweat and his clothes were tattered, evidence of him hauling the heavy suitcase through the sewers.

"Oh, man," Casey choked. "I really did it now, guys! I really did it now!" His eyes held a look of pure and utter terror.

Mikey pushed Raph forward, earning himself a glare. But Raph knew pummeling his youngest brother could wait. "Casey," the red-banded turtle asked shakily, "what happened?"

The human boy buried his face in his hands. "What've I done?" he gasped. "How did I get myself into this mess?"

"We'll help you, Casey…just…just tell us what's in the suitcase first."

Casey's immediate response was to frantically shake his head, a crazed look in his eye. "Oh, you don't want that, Raph." He threw himself onto the suitcase, hugging it for dear life.

"Yes we do," the red-banded turtle insisted. "Just tell us and we'll help you. Whatever it is."

After what seemed like eternity, Casey took a deep breath and straightened himself. He spoke with an ominous tone. "Okay…but you asked for it." He knelt down and began to undo the clasps.

Everyone held their breath. Leo took a tentative step back as did Karai and Donnie. Raph gave an audible gulp. Mikey was whimpering nervously from behind their father, who was rooted boldly in place. An exchange of blows with their enemies seemed much less nerve-wracking than this. Finally, Casey flipped the lid off of his suitcase

…of random junk.

"What the hey?" Mikey asked.

"I ran away from home!" Casey announced exultantly. He was smiling as if the last 90 stressful seconds never happened.

"Ran away?" Donnie asked.

"Yup! My old man and I had a little disagreement. Turned into this huge fight and I may've stormed out."

Leo gestured at the suitcase questioningly. "If you stormed out, why do you have a suitcase?"

"Oh, I always keep this in my car." He reached down and produced a flat green box, holding it up proudly. "It's got my earthquake kit in it."

Leo raised an eyebrow. "Is that a Cluedo game with a Rice Crispies treat taped to it?"

Casey hesitated. "Maybe." He wasted no time stuffing the makeshift "kit" back into his suitcase and out of sight. Then he straightened up and cleared his throat. "So, whaddya say? Could I stay here? Just for a couple days?

Mikey shrugged. "It's not up to us, dude."

Everyone looked expectantly at Master Splinter. The rat considered it for a quick moment. "I will allow it, Casey, but you must speak with your father eventually. I am sure he is worried."

"Aw, thanks, Rat-Dud-er-Splinter."

"What were you guys fighting about, anyway?" Leo asked.

"I'd-" Casey hesitated, an uncharacteristic pain in his eyes. He turned his face away. "I'd rather…talk to Splinter about it."

The siblings exchanged surprised looks. Casey was never one to act so serious, especially in front of them. Splinter nodded and his children complied. They were halfway to the kitchen when Karai realized something.

"Hey," she began, "wasn't there just one kebab left?"

For a fraction of a second, the Hamato siblings stopped to stare at each other.

And then the race was on!

The curtain flapped closed and there was an audible rustling. "Got it!" sounded a triumphant Donatello. It was followed by a chorus of disappointed "Aaaaww!"s.

Splinter gestured to the couch and Casey took the hint. "Tell me what is bothering you, my son."

Again, Casey hesitated. "My dad wants me to go to college," he finally said.

Splinter stayed silent and waited for him to continue.

"And I don't see the point! Nobody takes degrees seriously anymore. I don't even need one to be a pro hockey player. And everyone knows that college is a waste o' time and money. I mean, would you want your kids to go to college, Splinter?" He looked expectantly at the rat inquestion, but the answer never came. Eventually it dawned on Casey and he mentally kicked himself. "Oh…Sorry."

"No." The rat shook his head, smiling broadly. "I am happy that my sons have a friend whom is able to see past our appearances." His smile dissipated. "Sadly, that question is a luxury far from being available to us."

"But if it wasn't?"

Splinter pondered it. "I would want only for them to be happy. I suppose that depends on my sons' individual interests, though."

Casey sighed heavily. "It just really ticks me off! How can he expect me to just up and leave home? Who's gonna take care of my sister? Who's gonna take care of my dad? He can't even walk for cripes' sakes!"

The rat raised an eyebrow.

Then it registered with Casey. "Oh yeah-I never told you guys, huh? My dad's got a bad heart. A couple years ago, he had an episode and fell down a flight of stairs. He hasn't been walking right since."

Splinter's ears gave a noticeable droop. He wished such a decent young man did not have to bear such a burden. Was this the reason for his vigilantism? Was it simply a way to vent his frustrations? He put a comforting hand on the boy's shoulder. "I am sorry to hear that, but thank you for sharing this with me, Casey. I know it must have been difficult."

"Not as difficult as right now." With a heavy sigh, he slumped down until his face met his knees. "What am I gonna do? I don't wanna stay mad at my dad."

Splinter smiled in spite of himself. He couldn't recall the last time he heard something so mature leave the young Jones' mouth. The Casey before him had come a long way…and he knew it was partly because of the friendship of his sons. He reached over and re-placed his hand on Casey's shoulder. The boy sat up and looked at him gloomily but eagerly.

"I can offer only a father's viewpoint of this. And a father wants nothing more than what is best for his children. Even at the cost of his own wellbeing. The both of you may want different things, but that is no reason for your relationship to suffer. When you feel the time is right, go and speak with him. Respectfully and with a calm heart, of course."

"But what if we still can't work it out?"

"Then you must make a decision. But whatever it may be, know that you are always welcome here. We think of you as family as well, Casey."

Casey felt his heart lighten. "Thanks, Splinter. I just dunno how to thank you."

"You could give me something off of your earthquake kit."

Smiling broadly, he went over to his suitcase and produced the Rice Crispy treat. He tossed it over to Splinter, who caught it expertly and began to unwrap it.

"The couch is yours. Good night, Casey."

"G'nite, Splinter."