Ahhh, long time no see! As you can see, I have created this, a human AU. I'm hoping to make this long and interesting, and different. Don't forget different. This chapter is setting the scene, don't worry Donnie and Raph will appear in the next chapter.
I hope you guys are interested!
You could say that I've been to a lot of places, and seen a lot of things. But I guess that's what happens when your father is a multi-millionaire with businesses all over the world. We stay for a few months, maybe even a year before we move on. Of course, my life wasn't always that way.
My earliest memory is an orphanage in Japan. Curled up in front of a fireplace with tens of other little kids, being read stories by the kind caretakers, and playing in a park with tons of other children. They're all fond memories. Of course, that all changed when I was adopted.
I was only six at the time when he came. His name was Oroku Saki, along with his wife Teng Shin. I remember seeing him, standing tall with his shoulders back, in an expensive suit next to his well dressed wife who barely gave the kids a glance, and thinking "scary". The other kids tried to avoid him, but I stood tall. Even though I was young, I didn't like being pushed around, especially by adults who were on my turf. Saki wandered about casually, looking over the children before he stopped at me. I stood, staring up at him. He must of seen something he liked, because he adopted me a few hours later.
He gave me the name "Leonardo". I remember asking why, it wasn't a very Japanese sounding name after all, but he just smirked at me.
As I got older, I found out that Teng Shin and him had a lot of trouble having a child of their own, so they decided to bite the bullet and adopt one instead, they needed an heir for his company after all.
We traveled to many places in that first year of being with this family, and I was happy. They stuck by me, talked with me, played with me. We actually felt like a family! We went to Europe, China, Russia, even some countries in South Africa. Unfortunately, all good things must come to an end.
Eventually we settled in Southern California, a place my new father wished to set up another company. My mother returned to being a successful news reporter and journalist. And suddenly, I was alone.
There were caretakers around the big house we lived in, maids and cooks who were kind. But it wasn't the same.
I remember being angry whenever my mother came home that first time, begging her to tell me why she left me all alone. She just knelt down, rubbed my head and told me that her job was important, and that I needed to be a big boy about it.
So, I was. Anything for this stranger I thought I knew, who I thought loved me.
I got used to it after awhile, I went to school and distracted myself with my grades and work, playing with kids and staying over at their houses when I got the chance. I almost felt like an adult, I could eat what I wanted, leave when I wanted, do what I wanted.
On my seventh birthday, they both came home, and we celebrated. Then, they actually stayed around for a few weeks. I was so happy, it made me think they might actually stay for good. My father even began to teach me martial arts, the very basics, but it was something.
I was pretty good, if I do say so myself.
Anyway, I realized after those few weeks were up why they stuck around.
Teng Shin, was having a baby.
I was devastated.
Wasn't the whole reason they got me was because they couldn't?
But I didn't complain, not when they looked so happy. What if I complained and they sent me back?
I couldn't let that happen.
Despite my boiling hate for this baby, I helped my mom with everything. Cooking, cleaning, shopping, I was her personal helper, and she praised me often for it.
I did good in school, I made good friends..
Anything to make them proud of me.
Anything to make them not forget about me.
I think the most prominent memory of that time was when me and my mother went to go get equipment for the new baby's room.
I had done research, research that my mom hadn't done. I knew all that we needed to get, how much everything would cost.
I even picked out a colors of paint for his room, one that I knew that the baby would like, because I read that babies did well with bright colors.
A soft orange for his room, with a pretty blue for the ceiling.
But my mom calling me her best helper, praising me with every decision for the room I made, telling me how I was going to be the best big brother, it somehow made it slightly worth it, even though I despised that baby already, and it wasn't even born yet.
About eight months later, my father's secretary came to get me from school, telling me that my mom was in the hospital, in labor.
My stomach was in knots, in worry for my mother and in hate that the bane of my existence was finally going to come into this world.
It was a good three hours later when my father came out, looking exhausted, but happy. He picked me up, (something he hadn't done in a long time) and carried me to my mother's hospital room, where she sat, looking very disheveled and tired, holding a very small, plump baby.
It was gross, I remember thinking.
"It's a boy." My mother told me quietly as my father set me beside her. I nodded, still watching the new baby. My father sat beside my mother on the other side and placed a gentle hand on my new brother's head.
"His name will be Michelangelo."
I rolled my eyes. Once again he picked a weird name. Although I've grown fond of mine after so long.
For the next three months, my mother continued to stay home and take care of the baby. Since my brother's room was next to mine, I was often woken up by his crying. Since he was also born a little prematurely, he needed a lot of attention in order to stay healthy. I was my mom's helper throughout it all too, doing the shopping and cleaning up after the baby, and making her food, and bottles for the baby. I never touched him though. I didn't want to.
One night, I snapped awake to my brother crying. I sighed, waiting for my mother to get up and tend to him. He cried for five minutes straight, but my mom didn't show up. Finally I got frustrated and got up myself, stomping over to my brother's room and entering. He stopped crying when he saw me, and looked up at me tearfully with his big blue eyes.
"Shush." I told him. "It's three in the morning, I want to sleep."
He sniffled. I sighed.
Slowly I reached in, and gently picked him up, keeping everything I learned about holding a baby in mind as I cradled him in my small arms. He wasn't that heavy, since he was still pretty tiny, but I still had to sit down quickly so I wouldn't drop him.
As we sat together, he began to giggle and squirm, his hands reaching up to pat my face, smiling big.
My heart began to soften.
This wasn't a monster, it was just a baby. He didn't have any clue what he was doing, he was just trying to live.
My mother entered after that, looking exhausted. "Oh, do you have him Leo?" She asked, surprised. I nodded, and began to rock.
"Go back to sleep mom." I told her, grinning tiredly. She smiled at me thankfully, gave me a kiss on the forehead and quickly turned around and did so.
When she left, I looked back down at him. He made grabby hands at me and I lowered my face, letting him grab onto my cheeks and giggle. I smiled, and couldn't help chuckling as well.
"Hey Mikey, my name is Leo."
After that, it apparently became my job to take care of my brother. I fed him, rocked him, changed him, played with him, put him to bed...and my mom returned to her job, confident her kid was in good hands, good seven year old hands.
My father was of course, still working.
I was playing a video game one day, Mikey in my lap watching intently before he suddenly turned and looked up at him, beaming at me toothily. "'Eo!"
I froze, dropping my controller. "What was that Mikey? What did you say?" I asked, excited.
"'Eo, 'Eo!" He giggled, starting to clap his hands.
His first words, and they were my name. I placed him off my lap, laughing happily. I turned, as if I was going to run and get my mother, when I realized, she wasn't home.
I froze. My mother wasn't here to witness her kid saying his first words.
In fact, weren't a kid's first words supposed to be mom?
Mikey was still giggling behind me, and I turned and looked at him.
Their adopted son, who was watching and taking care of their biological son, was his first word.
"'Eo?" He asked, looking up at me in confusion.
They were never home, I was basically raising their kid.
And I was raising myself.
They didn't want kids, they wanted symbols. As if having kids would make them feel better about themselves, they weren't prepared to handle the work of having children.
I plopped down again, and hugged my little brother tightly.
"Don't worry Mikey." I told him, tears running down my face.
"'Eo?" My name from him just started making me cry even more.
"W-We'll take care of each other, I-I'll never leave you, like our parents did. Never ever." I swore to him. He reached up and patted my cheeks, almost wiping away my tears.
About a week later, my parents came home, and told us that we were moving.
I was devastated, but I didn't have much of a choice.
Mikey was talking a lot by then too, saying little things like book and table, and pizza.
He wouldn't say dad or mom.
I quickly realized that whenever both of our parents were home at the same time, it meant big news, that news usually being that we were moving.
Mikey and I grew even closer as the years went by, and he relied on me as much as I relied on him.
He was still affectionate with my mom and dad whenever they were home, but if he had a nightmare, even if my mom was home, he would come to me.
It was almost as if he thought of them as occasional guests, not people to get enamored with.
Despite my mom's attempts (as little as they were), that didn't change.
When I was thirteen, my dad went on a business trip to Japan. We were in Florida at the time, and me and Mikey loved the beaches there, so we barely noticed him being gone since we played around them so much. We must have been a real sight, a thirteen year old and a six year old all alone on a beach.
My mom was home most of the time while my dad was gone and Mikey grew a little more used to her. He was going to start school soon, and I was working hard to make sure he went to a good elementary school.
But then, my dad came home. A girl behind him.
"Leonardo, Michelangelo, this is Karai. She's your new older sister." He introduced. She had black hair, and a very hard expression, she was taller than me too, but I guess that's to be expected since she looked about seventeen.
My mom had a big smile on her face, she must have known about her. Karai was kind, and polite, and I tried to be back. She had this... disgusted almost, look in her eyes when she looked at me and Mikey though, but I know how that feels, being introduced to a house with two other kids? She must think this is a competition or something. She'd realize how alone we were after a few weeks.
But...that didn't happen.
She went to work, with my dad.
It was then I realized, I had been replaced.
We had both been replaced. I was no longer going to be his heir (not that I really wanted to in the first place), and another person would steal attention away from Mikey. Mikey was a good little talker though, and got a lot of practice comforting me as I cried that night.
A few weeks later, school was finally about to start. I was excited to get out of that house. Karai and I, when she did get home, didn't get along very well, and she was very unhelpful with Mikey.
I had gotten Mikey into a school that was almost next door with my middle school, so if he needed help, I would be right there, and I'd be able to walk him home.
The day before school started, my dad came home and told us we were moving.
I was so angry, I actually yelled at him. He looked very surprised, but he yelled right back.
Our argument didn't end until I was in tears, and I was sent to my room.
Hah, like he could pretend he could punish me, when he was never even home!
I went to my room anyway.
Karai had this smirk on her face the entire time.
We moved to Wisconsin, and my father put my little brother in a school miles away from mine.
In order to pick him up, I had to sprint there in order to get there in time, because they wouldn't let kids wait in front of the school, so he'd have to walk home by himself, which was way too scary a thought to let happen.
He was a trooper through all of this though, always wearing a big smile on his face and working hard to cheer me up.
It was hard to be upset when I had an adorable little brother to take care of.
A few years of moving went by, and I turned sixteen.
We were moving to New York, and my father promised me that we would stay there for a long time, that I could finish high school there.
I didn't want to believe him, but he also told me that when I got my license he would get me a car. This would make transporting Mikey around a lot easier, so I just accepted it and packed up our gear like a good boy.
Even though I should know better, I can't help but hope that things will be different here.