What? There's more? Yes, there is. It occurred to me that Fishface needs to take those legs off eventually, right? He can't stay in them forever, after all.
Fishface hated this time of day. After he and Dogpound reported another failure to the Shredder, Dogpound had left to his own room. The Shredder narrowed his eyes as Fishface remained in the room. "Is there something else you wish to tell me?"
"No"
"Then why are you still standing here?"
Fishface shifted nervously on his metal legs, how they picked up on subconscious movements like that, he wasn't sure, and replied, though he wished that it wasn't true, "Bradford went to his room, and…my room is sort of in here" he said, grimacing and pointing to the glass surface of the tank that went around the perimeter of the Shredder's throne room.
If the Shredder was affected by this at all, he didn't show it. "Hmmph, fine. I will go check on the other soldiers. I expect you to be in that tank by the time I get back, otherwise there will be no excuse for you to still be in here."
Fishface bowed his head as the Shredder left the room through the large triangle door.
He turned to the hatch that opened up and allowed access to the tank, and an overwhelming feeling of claustrophobia, near panic, welled in him. He'd been trapped in there for so long, he didn't want to go back! He couldn't go back in there! But the orange water tanks strapped to his back were running low, and soon he would be out of the water that he now had to rely on to get precious oxygen. Plus, his scales were chaffed where the robotic legs went around his midsection, and the rest of them were dryer than they should have been from having been out of water all day. Fish, mutated or no, were not meant to be out of water. Not to mention what the Shredder would do to him if he came back to find him still standing here. Much as he didn't want to do it, he had to get in the water soon. He had to sleep in it to be safe, if he fell asleep on land, his water tanks would run out in the middle of the night and he might be dead by the time he woke up, with no one around (or caring enough), to refill them in the night for him.
He let out a sigh, and realized that he had wasted more oxygen, before opening up the hatch to look into the gently swirling water, simultaneously feeling relief and dread of the thought of being in there once again. He knelt right next to the opening on his metal legs, so that when they came off he would not have far to fall. He took as deep a breath as he could with his depleting water supply, as he mentally prepped himself to be trapped within the confines of the tank once again. It's only for a night, not even that! Stop being a wimp! Hitting a few of the glowing hexagons on the "belt" of the mechanical legs they gave a small hissing noise and came apart.
"Ommph!" He grunted as he fell flat onto the ground beneath him, his head just over the opening hatch, close enough to touch the water below. Meanwhile, the water in his tanks was barely even enough to wet his gills, so he took one last "breath" before untying them from himself, and pulling off the orange tubes that led to his gills with a slight sucking sound. He gave the water one more glance before pulling himself forward to plunge into it.
The cool water encased him, but to him it felt neither warm nor cold, only like a relief, as his poor dried out scales were hydrated once again, and he could breathe freely. He was overcome with a sudden sense of comfort, and the water completely enveloped him, and he took a deep breath, running the life-giving water over his gills. Ah, home. his thoughts sighed in relief.
His eyes widened in shock and he shook his head fiercely. Home? This was not home. Up there, on the surface with the people and buildings and cars, that was home. Home was far, far away from this place. It didn't matter that being on the surface now made his skin itch, and that he needed a water tank to stay up there longer than a few minutes before he started land-drowning. He had his legs back, and he would use them. Lack of legs was the only thing that held him here before.
He grappled with his mixed feelings of comfort and relief and of claustrophobia every night when he had to come back into the tank for the night.
Was this home? Was this where he would have to learn to be happy? It certainly felt better to be here in the water than it did to be on land, but accepting that would be like he was enjoying this horrible fate. He wouldn't be trapped like… this, forever, someday, soon, he would be back to his old handsome self; living like a man, not a fish! He had already circled the tank twice while he argued against himself in his head, as his eyelids drifted shut. He fell asleep, sinking gradually to the bottom of his tank, and dreamed about walking on land comfortable and at home.
So, I hope that you liked this. Although the ending was kind of abrupt. R&R!