Chapter 2

The world slowly crept back into Michelangelo's senses. 'What happened? What bus hit him?' He was waking up to the same sensation only a few hours ago. A few seconds later, everything came roaring back to his memory banks, and he remembered what had happened to him. Why once again, he was waking up to a strapped bed. He remembered that smug face of Karai and also Hun and Mando. Not to mention him being in a human body? He started moving around what little he could from the restraints securing him to the bed. He knew his body, and he could still feel the effects of the drug in his system. Making everything seem hazy still.

With this haze, he didn't realize someone was sitting on his bed until he felt the movement of the weight shifting and one of his eyes being ripped open with no care in the world as it was let go, and the next eye was given the same treatment. As he blinked away the black dot shooting across his vision, he saw a new person on the edge of the bed by his side. 'Who the hell was this person? He did not recognize them.'

The man was a good size, not as intimidating as Hun but could be a younger brother.

"Welcome back to the world of the living Mikey."

The man called him Mikey. No one but his close friends and brothers called him Mikey.

"Okay, I'll bite. Who are you supposed to be in this little funhouse?" Testing his restraints, moving his hands into fists, and jerking them up, finding no weaknesses yet.

"Man, what did they give you, my friend? You really must have pissed someone off to get this treatment." The man's eyes looked down at the restraints and hinted at the drug that was still coursing through Michelangelo's body.

"Maybe I told them a bad joke." 'Or the joke is on me,' Michelangelo thought to himself. This whole thing was hysterical. Yet he wasn't laughing and still waiting for the punchline.

Before the conversation could go any further, someone stood in the doorway. Nurse Frigid bitch was back, Karai.

"Mr. Jess Harley. What do you think you are doing? Please leave before I write you up for disturbing another patient." Giving an order as though Jess was one of her foot soldiers.

Not wanting to cause a disturbance, Jess quickly got to his feet and left the room, but not without looking over his shoulder in sympathy at Michelangelo.

'Jess Harley. What kind of name is that? Who could this person be? Why did the presence of this person seem so familiar to him.' It just seemed everything was out of reach.

Michelangelo didn't like this. His enemy had not shown face yet, giving themselves away. Who would get their rocks off doing this to one of them, to him? Was it personal and a vendetta against only him, or were his brothers trapped in their nightmares? Was this like when they all got whisked away to different realities, and Leonardo had to search for them?

He thought that was crazy, but at least his brothers had superpowers, even if he did not. But the caveat, Splinter was evil. That was a cakewalk compared to whatever this was.

This was a nightmare that was not ending. Maybe this is how Don felt in his hideous time frame. Don still would not bring up what happened to him. He would hint towards it or forget who he was talking to. He would only tell bits and pieces of it. They all tried to put it together, well, maybe more like Raphael and Leonardo tried to compare notes and find out more. He tried to respect Donatello's boundaries and did not want to discuss it. Michelangelo was the lovable goof most of the time, but even he understood when someone didn't want to talk about it or hadn't come to terms with it.

If Don wanted their older brothers to know, he would have talked about it or said something. Though there were times he wanted to bring it up to his older brother, and that was when Donatello would look at him differently. Don would get this glint in his eye as though he wanted to say something or talk about it. He did wonder if somehow, and maybe, he had died in the future or something else. Don had said something with a sad smile about him reaching his full potential, whatever that meant.

"Mr. Angelo, I've come to check on you. How are you feeling?" Nurse Karai pulled Michanaelgo from his thoughts.

"Fucking fantastic." Sometimes, the one thing he got berated for was always saying what was on his mind. Not thinking through.

"No reason for such language. Follow the light." Shinning another light into his eyes, as Mr. Harley had done earlier to him. He did as instructed and once again tried to blink the black dots away that were dancing around in his vision.

He suddenly realized how tired he was, and whatever they had drugged him with was whispering comfort words of sleep. He felt like a zombie. Is this what it's like for kids who get Adderall? His thoughts were not jumping around as frequently as they usually do, and he didn't have the hyperness that generally came with it.

Nurse Karai began releasing his restraints, first his arms, then his legs. He immediately didn't move; he lacked the energy to do so. Which probably did not go unnoticed by her.

"How long was I out for?"

"It's the next day."

His voice betrayed his true feelings on such a revelation, "You drugged me all day and all night? Don't you think that was a bit extreme?"

No emotion from Karai, and why would he expect any? She was the queen of hiding her emotions or what she was thinking or feeling at that moment. No telling what she was thinking at that moment in time.

"Mr. Angelo, the group session will start soon, and then lunch. I suggest getting up and moving. You do not want to be late." There was no room for interpretation. She was giving him an order, and she expected him to follow. With nothing to be said, she left him.

It would take everything in Michelangelo to get up from his bed. The lack of energy he felt, or strength was daunting. It was similar to how he felt when he got over the flu one winter when he was much younger. It had taken him weeks to recover, not just from the flu but to regain muscle mass and strength from laying in bed for so many days straight and not moving. He remembered sitting for hours trying to work himself up to go to the bathroom, which took everything out of him. He never wanted to feel like that again, and here he was battling it once more. Moving slowly, he looked at the faces that floated on by again, yet he couldn't put a name to any of them.

As he slowly walked down the hallway taking his sweet time and shuffling his feet as he went along, he passed a male bathroom. He stopped suddenly, a thought running through his mind. Since he woke up in this funhouse of confusion, he had not seen what he looked like in his new forum. Taking a few steps backward, he opened the door and stepped inside.

He found himself paused at the entryway. It was as though his feet had become cement and grew too heavy to move. Part of him knowing if he saw himself and didn't look like he should, this reality had become even more real. Yet, curiosity was driving him. He took a deep breath, took two significant steps, and looked at himself in the mirror.

The first thing he noticed was his penetrating deep blue eyes that stood against his skin. His eyes hadn't changed. The other features he took in were that he had short dirty blonde hair that pointed in a few different directions, like he hadn't put a brush through it or whatever humans do to try and keep up with the latest trend. He had a scar that appeared only a few months old and ran from his temple to the hairline. How in the hell had he gotten that? He didn't have that before. Will he carry it over if he can return to his old body? Or was this some type of illusion as his body was?

He looked at least about six feet, and at least he maintained his somewhat athletic build. Overall, at least if he had to be in this body, he wasn't a told dweeb. He touched his face with his hands and pushed on it.

He was human, he could walk out in broad daylight, and no one would question him. No one would scream in fright or call him a freak. He was considered normal. Well, about as normal as one could get, yet here he was. Locked up in a mental institution. The irony is that he could finally go out in public, and he wasn't allowed to leave. He missed himself, though. This wasn't him. This was a false reality because he was not human but a turtle. Having enough of the image that stared back at him and having almost the desire to put his fist in the glass, he gave one more glance, gave himself a wink, and walked out of the bathroom.

He found the group therapy being held in the main hall, and the only open seat was fake Mando, who was still moving his hair out of his eyes, and the new player, Jess Harley.

He looked around and started rocking his leg up and down in a nervous habit. His brothers used to kick him when he would bounce it too much and too hard. But it was just a tick he could not ever stop. It helped him when his thoughts started to race, and he was trying to find clarity and not to mention when all he wanted to do was escape this hell. But he had yet to find the exit yet.

"Thank you all for attending."

He heard behind him as he tried not to react as Nurse April O'Neal sat down as the head of the group therapy.

"Are you feeling better today Mr. Angelo?"

Her eyes stared him down. He looked around and saw everyone's eyes on him now, demanding an answer.

"Like a whole new being." 'Well, at least it wasn't a lie.' Mikey thought as he realized this would satisfy April for now as she began talking and glancing at the other patients in their group. As the session went on, Michelangelo had a more challenging time paying attention. He did try at first, truly, but then his eyes caught something outside, and he suddenly was thinking about many things other than concentrating on what was going on at the moment. As he saw a bird flapping its wings, he felt the sudden desire to run, to leap to run across the buildings of New York. To laugh and spare and poke at his more prominent brother Raphael. He hated how he felt right now. Alone. Truly alone. This whole situation didn't make sense, and no one was there to rescue him or lean on, and he hated how he felt right now. He wanted his family. He always counted on them to get him out of any jam he got into, and now he was truly alone with no backup.

He heard someone clearing their throats and a nudge from Jess that he realized his eyes had unfocused, and as he brought them back, he looked around and saw that all eyes were on him again. 'Oh sewer rats, what did they say? What did they ask?'

"Sorry April, I wasn't listening."

He mentally kicked himself for that one when he saw the look across April's face. They may be two different Aprils, which this one was the fake one, but they still had the same features. There was no mistake, and she didn't like being called by her first name. Which was hard being it was so natural for him to call her by her first name.

"Sorry, Miss O'Neal. I zoned out. Drugs are making me spacy."

"Understandable. I asked if you wanted to add to what Mr. Harley had said but I take it you didn't listen to that either?"

He could feel his cheeks growing red with heat. He usually could tap dance out of any situation and make a joke out of anything, but he felt so off his game. He cast his eyes down like a child.

"No, I promise I'll listen next time. Scouts honor." Bringing up and holding out three fingers. He tried not to stare at his long slender fingers. He put them down, and April glanced around the room, putting on her fake smile that any of his brothers and sensei could always spot a mile away.

"Thank you, we will pick this up tomorrow. Please fold your chairs and put them back where you found them, thank you."

Michelangelo tried to quickly leave and maybe scope out the prison in which he was being held, but Mando and Jess caught up before he could leave. Mando threw his arm over Michelangelo's shoulders.

"Yo, I never seen you get so violent, my man." Mando began poking Mikey. "I mean, I've always wanted to see Hun get his ass kicked, but you took it to a whole nother level, brah."

"What happened? I missed it." Jess Harley asked, sounding disappointed.

"Mikey here went right for Hun's nads. Put that man on the ground. I don't think Hun still hasn't recovered, I still haven't seen him." Mondo looked around, trying to see if Hun was anywhere to be found, but the towering orderly was a no-show.

"Mikey, why such a reaction?"

Michelangelo shrugged off Mando's arm as they made their way to the lunch room and stood in line. He honestly couldn't answer that question. Well, he could, but it wouldn't make sense to either one of these two. He didn't want to be here. This wasn't right. He was supposed to be in the lair with his brothers and Dad. Not locked up in some mental hospital with no explanation and somehow a human being? He wanted to scream at the top of his lungs. He wanted someone to make sense of this for him, but all it would do is get him drugged, and he may never find out the mystery of what was happening here. So why the act of violence? Because, quite frankly, it felt good at the moment, and he went on instinct. But that wasn't what he could tell either of them, so he turned and smiled at them.

"Because…because why not?"

Mando and Jess caught each other's eyes, and Michelangelo turned back around. Nothing else was said as they found their tables and sat down, and began eating. He really didn't have the stomach for this fake food. It smelled awful and looked awful. Why couldn't they feed them decent food? Was it too hard to ask for? Yet, if he didn't eat and keep up his energy, this could only worsen for him. Nothing worse for Michelangelo was being hungry and having to do anything on an empty stomach. So taking huge bites, he used the water to slug it down his throat and be done with it.

He saw that Mando and Jess looked at him again like he was growing a third eyeball.

"What?"

"Nothing." Jess is trying to recover. "I just, you hate meatloaf."

Mikey brushed it off. Not sure what gave them that idea. He loved meatloaf. Maybe the Mikey they thought they knew hated meatloaf? Maybe he was in someone else's body? Could that be? Someone was running around in his body. He got excited at the idea that he was on to something, but then it was quickly shot back down as April started to walk up to them. 'No, if that was the case, why were April, Karai, Hun, and fake Mando here? Not to mention whoever Jess was supposed to be.'

April smiled at her as she looked at the three of them and then at Michelangelo.

"Mr. Angelo. I came here to remind you of your appointment with your doctor. I don't want you to be late to it."

Michelangelo tried not to pull a face, but he couldn't hide what he felt inside at that particular moment. His doctor? Is this his therapist? Who was this going to be? He didn't think he could take any more surprises.

He must not have done a good job hiding his emotions that were flashing inside as Miss O'Neal laid a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"Come on. I will take you."

He looked to Mando and Jess, who didn't offer any type of support. He didn't say anything as he picked up his tray, busted it, and let her lead him out of the lunchroom.

At least she was taking him because how would he explain he had no memory of where his "doctor" was located. He would have wandered down the wrong hallway and gotten sedated again. He didn't want to go for a third time.

Letting Miss O'Neal guide him, they walked silently until they reached a door. He tried to read the name on the side, but she had blocked it. She knocked on the door and spoke.

"Sir, it's Miss O'Neal. Mr. Angelo is here to see you."

"Great bring him." A simple commanding voice said from within.

April opened the door for him and then closed it softly behind him. Yet to Michelangelo, it sounded like she locked it behind her, but it was probably a figment of his imagination. It looked like something directly out of a movie. A lounge with Kleenex was nearby, and a few comfortable chairs were sitting in front of the enormous desk. One wall had books filling every spot available on the bookshelf. 'Donatello would have loved to read each and every one of these," Michelangelo thought.

Why was it so dang hot in this room too? Did they turn up the heat in the office? He could feel sweat bullets starting to form on his brow as Michelangelo continued to stand. His doctor was facing the huge glass window. All Michelangelo could picture was him leaping over the desk and the chair and busting through the window, consequences be damned. Isn't that what Raphael would do? Mikey couldn't help the train of thought, and a small smile crossed his features; WWRD? What would Raphael do?

He hated how his body went into flight or fight mode. What had him on edge? It was the voice. That's why. It was familiar. It was a voice that struck the fear in his brothers, no matter how much older they got. His doctor turned around in the chair and smiled. His doctor was none other than Oroku Saki, The Shredder.

TBC…..


Thank you for the review, and the subscriptions and bookmarks! Glad you are enjoying this and want to see more! Without looking it up, you know who Jess Harley is? 10 points to your house if you can figure it out lol. Anyways, thanks again and hoped you like the latest and greatest! I tried to review and look for mistakes, Grammerly was being weird today and getting on my last nerves. Anyhew, till next time!