Hello Everyone! I feel that I've become terribly rusty since I haven't had much success writing in a very long time. But FanFiction is the perfect place to work back up to my old level of hard work and dedication! I hope you enjoy this story about the adorable Michelangelo. I will try very hard to make sure there are some good fight scenes and it's not just all sappy romance - after all, it wouldn't be TMNT without some serious ninjitsu action!
"Hmm…pass the Spicy Kick Nachos, Raphy-Daffy," Michelangelo mumbled, turning over in his sleep. Drool leaked out of the corner of his mouth, and his orange cat Klunk was curled up in a small ball near the top of his pillow. Above him, his three brothers Leonardo, Raphael, Donatello, and their father and master Splinter studied him.
Raph cracked his knuckles. "I've got your spicy kick right here," he said. He took a step toward Mikey, but found Splinter's walking stick blocking his path.
"No, my son," Splinter chided gently. "An honorable warrior does not attack his opponent when they are unconscious."
"Just give me a second," Raph said. "I'll make him conscious real quick." He snorted. "Teach him to call me 'Raphy-Daffy.' "
"Yeah," Donny said. "I thought you were a turtle, Raph, not a duck."
"Well, if I'm a duck, then Mikey's a chicken," Raph said, turning away and heading for his punching bag. Leo bent down and placed a hand on his brother's shoulder.
"Rise and shine, Mikey," he said, shaking him awake.
"Huh?" With a groan, Mikey stretched and covered his eyes with his arm. "Why does it feel like I'm getting up at the crack of dawn?"
"Because it is the crack of dawn," Donny said. "Intensive training starts today, remember?"
"As if our usual training wasn't intensive enough," Mikey groaned, letting Leo drag him to his feet. He gave a huge yawn, then belched loudly.
"Nice one," Donny said.
"I will be downstairs," Spinter said, shaking his head. "We will begin today's lesson in five minutes." He left them and headed toward his room. Leo leaped downstairs to the ground floor to warm up. Mikey could hear Raph giving his punching bag a thorough beat down, no doubt wishing it were Mikey instead.
Mikey picked up Klunk and scratched his head absently. The cat meowed and curled up in his arms, intent on staying asleep. Blearily, Mikey looked at Donny and said, "Why couldn't we have been raised by a normal, non-ninja giant mutant rat?"
"Because all the other mutant rats were either created from Agent Bishops' aliens' exploding goop, or through the Cyber Shredder's experiments with his portal into reality," Donny said.
"Oh yeah." Mikey yawned a second time. "Hey, Bishop hasn't done anything creepy or gross lately, has he?"
"Not that I've heard of," Donny said. "Why do you ask?"
"Well, I mean I know he turns good in the future and stuff," Mikey said. "But now that we're back home, I guess we're back to being enemies and kicking each other's shells."
"Let's hope not," Donny said, stepping to the edge of the floor and preparing to leap down and join Leo. "We've got enough to worry about with the Purple Dragons taking over the city."
After the defeat of Cyber Shredder, the Foot Clan lost Khan as their leader, and since Karai had retired to spend the rest of her life with the scientist Chapman, the Foot was currently scattered and disorganized. The Elite Guard were keeping the Clan from descending into total chaos, but they weren't enough to stop the rise of the Purple Dragons as New York City's most powerful gang. As far as the turtles knew, Hun was still the boss of the Purple Dragons – which meant that they were getting into rumbles at least once a week with Purple Dragon members out on the town committing crimes.
Not that Raph minded the frequent action. As he put it, whilst polishing his sais lovingly, "I love me a side of roasted Dragon with my eggs in the morning."
Mikey still felt sleepy when they were all assembled downstairs, with Splinter sitting across from them. "Today, my sons," Splinter said. "We will be meditating to test your strength of focus and your ability to connect with your inner spirit. Although it is important that you know how to handle your bodies, it is equally important that you learn to listen to your inner spirit and to decipher what it is trying to tell you."
A loud growl erupted from Mikey's stomach. Splinter raised an eyebrow, and Mikey grinned sheepishly.
"Uh, I think I hear my inner spirit loud and clear, Sensei."
"Since you were late to wake up this morning, Michelangelo," Splinter said, "You will unfortunately have to do without until morning practice is over."
"What!" Mikey's stomach gave another loud growl, as if it were protesting as well. "But I hate doing without! It's so – uh - " Unable to think of a clever joke, Mikey looked around for inspiration. His eyes landed on Raph. "Me doing without food is like Raph not being ugly! It's just not right."
"Hey Leo," Raph said through gritted teeth. "You think if I punch Mikey in the stomach enough times it'll cure his hunger?"
"Worth a shot," Leo said. He'd already closed his eyes and was attempting to listen to his inner spirit. "Otherwise we'll have to listen to it growling all morning."
"A ninja," Splinter cut in, interrupting his sons, "has the ability to focus only on the task at hand, regardless of the distractions around him. Leonardo, focus only on your training and do not concern yourself with your brother's actions. And Michelangelo," he said, his voice becoming more firm, "You will use this as a lesson so that tonight you will not stay up all night playing video games and, thus, oversleep."
Mikey sighed and ducked his head, bracing himself for a long, unpleasant morning. "Yes, Sensei." Now he really could've used those Spicy Kick Nachos.
That night, after a grueling day of training, Mikey didn't dream about food for once. Instead, he saw what looked like a laboratory – he'd been inside enough labs by now to last him a lifetime. However, this one looked unpleasantly familiar. This wasn't just an imaginary lab that his mind had come up with or pieced together from a TV program – it was a lab he'd been in before. It was a place he'd once visited – as a potential experiment.
"Hey, I remember now," he said out loud. "This is Agent Bishop's headquarters." His eyes traveled around the room, taking in the familiar boards he and his brothers had been strapped to, and the horizontal containment chamber where Bishop had kept their fellow mutant friend Leatherhead prisoner. The place was definitely creepy – had they not gone to the future and seen Bishop as the president of an intergalactic peacekeeping organization, Mikey would've still considered him just as much a threat to their existence as the Shredder.
Suddenly, two other people appeared in the room – materialized, more like. One was strapped to one of the boards, and the other stood nearby.
Mikey had let out a yelp of surprise, but after the initial shock, he laughed with relief and said, "Man, I almost jumped out of my shell. Did you guys use, like, a teleportal device or something?"
To his chagrin, neither of them answered him, turned around, or acknowleged his presence at all. Mikey frowned. He hated being ignored.
"Uh, anyone home?" he asked, taking a few steps forward. He took a closer look at the person standing and said, "Whoa! It's you!"
It was Bishop. He was snapping on a pair of latex gloves, and a tray with a needle and a jar of a mysterious, green liquid sat on a small table next to him. He continued to ignore Mikey, which lead Mikey to believe that maybe in this dream, he was just an observer. Maybe it was like he was watching a TV program, except that he was inside the TV. Or maybe he was in the past, and since the past had already been played out, there was nothing he could do to interfere. As for the person strapped down, it was too dark for Mikey to make out the identity right away. But once Bishop had put on his gloves, he twisted on a lamp and the area was flooded with harsh, florescent light.
Mikey gasped. Some kind of half human, half reptile creature was lying on the board, naked and listless, as if it were too exhausted to fight against its constraints. The swell of breasts confirmed the mutated creature was female. Even though her body shape was definitely that of a human, she possessed some features that seemed almost – dare Mikey think it – turtle-ish. Her skin was green as sea glass, and she had some kind of bowl-shaped growth on her back that looked a lot like a shell. But unlike Mikey or any of his brothers, she had hair on her head – long brown hair, which was matted with something dark red and sticky near her temple.
Bishop's mouth was moving, but Mikey couldn't hear anything he was saying. So it was also a silent TV program. He watched Bishop pick up the needle and jar.
Dread curled in the pit of his stomach. "No, come on, you're not supposed to be doing creepy mutant experiments anymore," Mikey begged. "You gotta turn into a good guy, remember? Save the aliens, make peace not war, all that jazz?"
Inserting the needle into the jar, Bishop pulled out a measure of the liquid, and then removed it. He wiped the tip of the needle and then leaned over the mutant girl's face, his lips still moving soundlessly. He was sneering – Mikey recognized the expression all too well from when he'd been the one strapped down. Come to think of it, whenever the turtles had come across Bishop in the past, he seemed to be sneering.
Bishop finally stopped talking, and in that instant, the creature, who had been staring blankly up at the ceiling with as much expression as a stone statue, slid her gaze sideways and stared right at Mikey.
Mikey gasped. Bishop didn't turn around or break his concentration. The mutant girl's mouth hadn't moved, which meant that the voice had come from somewhere inside her. But why hadn't she seen Mikey before now?
Please, let me out of here.
He couldn't tear his eyes away from her's. No longer were her eyes dull and void of emotion – now they were desperate, filled with tears. She was silently begging him to save her. Something terrible was about to happen.
Help me, Michelangelo.
Mikey took a step forward, stretching out his hand, reaching for her –
And promptly woke up to find himself at home, in his bed, staring up at the black ceiling, his hand grasping at nothing but thin air.
I promise to work hard and not quit this story until it's finished! (Though I don't plan on making this a super long story). Till next chapter.