A/N: This was inspired by all the racing games I've played or have seen someone else play (Need for Speed, Burnout, etc). For this story, the guys are human.

Disclaimer: I don't own any characters relating to Turtles. However, any and all mentioned OC's are mine.


There's a story told among the rebels of the road. A story told of a vast, man-made island built only for the toughest and most skilled street racers. Some say it's only a myth, while others claim to have known someone who had been taken to the island. However, with all dreams there are nightmares. Some ex-racers have claimed to have escaped the island, telling anyone who would listen of the horrors that fell up on those who lost one time too many. Other racers would brush them off and go about their lives, dreaming of the day when they would be chosen to go to every racer's paradise. But, for some, the dream never crossed their minds.

"Yo, Blue. Ya home?"

The garage echoed with a metallic *thud*. A hiss followed. A seventeen-year-old slammed the hood of his car down and rubbed his head. A couple of laughs and a high-pitched giggle made him turn around.

"The car get the better of ya, Blue?"

"Hey, Trek."

Leonardo Summers, also known as "Blue" by his friends, rubbed his head again and tossed the rag he was holding on to the work bench. He had earned the nickname "Blue" simply because it was his favorite color, and because it was the color of the fastest car in New York City, which he owned.

"How's the mistress?" Trek teased, referring to the car.

"She's fine, Trek," Leonardo answered, a smile playing at the corner of his mouth.

He spent more time improving his car than he did anything else. A few times his parents had threatened to take the car away from him if he didn't keep his grades up.

"Dude, you should just marry the car."

"That would be too extreme for him, Lyle," Leonardo's girlfriend, Natalia said.

"Bro, you've got the hottest and most wanted car in NYC. Why don't you show it off?" Lyle asked.

"I told you a hundred times, I'm not interested in street racing," Leonardo replied.

Trek opened the passenger side door and inspected the interior. "You make it sound like it's a crime. This car is so cool."

"It is a crime," Leonardo told his friends. "It's illegal. You can get into serious trouble."

"Yeah," Lyle agreed. "If the cops can catch ya."

Trek and Natalia laughed. Leonardo shook his head. He headed inside. The others followed him. A number of times Leonardo had asked himself where he had managed to meet such a group of friends. They were noisy, rambunctious, rebellious, everything he wasn't. Then, he remembered the race car convention. He made the mistake of entering his car and that's when Trek, Lyle and Natalia came on the scene.

Leonardo opened the fridge and took out a bottle of water. He saw Trek shake his head out of the corner of his eye.

"What?" he asked, opening the bottle and taking a sip.

"When are ya gonna get some real drink?" Trek wanted to know.

"You mean that crud you drink? I'll stick with water," Leonardo said.

Natalia sat down at the table. "See, Trek? He is a rebel," she put in.

Lyle rummaged through the fridge. "Where does your dad keep his supply?"

Leonardo looked down at his friend. "What supply?" Lyle swallowed hard. Leonardo narrowed his eyes. He grabbed Lyle's shirt and pulled him out of the fridge. "What supply?"

"Your dad always keeps a case in the fridge," Lyle said.

Leonardo searched the fridge again. If his father had any sort of alcoholic beverage in there he was calling the parole officer. A couple years ago, his father had been arrested for drinking and driving. What made it worse, was that Leonardo had been in the passenger's seat and didn't even know his father had been drinking. While looking for a CD, he had come across a few cans of beer. His father's driving had always been rough (being an ex-street racer and all), so he didn't read too much into it. However, the knowledge came too late and there was a serious accident.

Leonardo shook his head to push back the memory of that horrific night. He straightened and leaned against the door, his hand over his eyes. He could still hear the scream of the sirens, the sound of his mother yelling his name, the buzz of voices from the paramedics as they tried to keep him focused.

"Leo?"

Leonardo looked up. Trek, Lyle and Natalia were all giving him a worried look. He cleared his throat and closed the fridge door.

"Stick with water," he whispered as he made his way out of the kitchen.


When he came through the door, Brad Summers found his son sitting at the kitchen table, a six-pack of beer sitting in front of him. Leonardo took his eyes off the case and glared at his father.

"I should call the parole officer," he threatened. "You're not supposed to have it."

"And who are you to tell me what do to?" Brad snapped.

"Your son," Leonardo answered. "Or your first victim. You decide."

Brad walked over to the table and grabbed the case. He opened the fridge and shoved it in. Leonardo leaned back in the chair and crossed his arms.

"Why did I chose to live with you?" he asked.

"You have a car, go to your mother's," Brad suggested.

"I would...if I knew where she went," Leonardo said.

"Chicago."

Leonardo gave his father an amuzed look. "She told you where she was going?"

Brad straightened and Leonardo could hear the sound of a can opening. He had stayed with his father because he thought he could help stop his father's drinking problem. He had been wrong.

"She told me for your benefit," Brad said, taking a swig of beer.

"Wouldn't it have been better if she told me herself?" Leonardo asked.

"Maybe," Brad replied, taking another drink.

Leonardo stood up and headed for the garage. He needed some air. Grabbing his car keys and jacket, Leonardo climbed into his car and slammed the door. He took a couple of seconds to calm himself before putting the key in the ignition and turning the car on. As soon as the garage door was up, the electric blue car was out on the streets.


What do you think? Worth continuing?

Reviews are welcome, flames are worthless.