Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles Fan Fiction ❯ 3 Weeks ❯ 5 ( Chapter 5 )

Right, so I'm gonna cut back to the present this chapter. Since our backstory is concluded. Here's some Casey Jones, if you'd like to know.

 

Disclaimer: *pats self down* Nope, no copyrights on me. Sorry.

 

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The blaring of the alarm clock had Casey Jones groaning from his place beneath his pillow. One arm proceeded to stretch out haphazardly in search of the button he fondly referred to as `shut-the-hell-up.' Stretching, he sat up, glancing out the window: Leo and the others would be getting there soon. Since Raph had disappeared, he'd insisted that the remaining 3 brothers include him on their patrol. It didn't leave him much time for sleeping, but that's what you do for family, he figured.

 

If their situations had been reversed, he knew for a fact Raph would be out there every night, alone or not, busting skulls until he got a clue. It was sort of what they did to show they cared: words didn't matter as much as, say, getting between your best bud and a club-wielding Purple Dragon. That was just the way things worked between them. Hefting his bag of sports equipment over his shoulder, the vigilante picked up his mask.

 

If he were really honest with himself, he wasn't much help to the turtles at all. Unless they had a definite lead on someone, he typically split off to bust some small-time offenders and `question' them. So far, that had gotten him nothing but stress relief. Not much stress relief, as every time he got no answers, his worry and frustration only doubled. Nobody had any clue what he was talking about, but that may have been from the fact that he tried to be subtle about it. Casey Jones and Subtle don't mix too well. But he couldn't exactly go around with a megaphone, blaring the guys' existence to the world - even if it led somewhere, Leo would probably have an ulcer or something.

 

Part of him wondered why Raph hadn't called him or stopped by on that night. He'd gotten the gist of the story from Mikey afterwards: it had been vague, but he wasn't much of a detail guy anyway. All he'd really needed to hear was `fight' and `Leo' in the same sentence (heck, he'd kind of figured that one out when he caught sight of the bruise on Leo's face, but when he asked, the ninja insisted it wasn't from Raph) before everything fell into place. So Raph got upset and took off to get some air. In vigilante-speak, `get some air' meant `get into a huge fight to feel better.' And while he knew Raph didn't always call him, he usually did after fights with Leo. Especially the big ones.

 

The bigger the argument, the bigger the brawl, he'd learned. After a doozy like the one he'd heard about, Raph would've been feeling reckless. If Casey understood nothing else, he understood how hotheads work. All he needed to do was ask himself what he would do, and the answer in this case would've been to find a huge gang or a drug drop and wreak a little havoc. When he was going up against bigger numbers, he always called Raph (or all the guys, depending on how big the numbers were) for backup, and he figured Raph would do the same thing.

 

But he hadn't. He'd gone off on his own and this whole mess had unfolded from there. Part of the human was royally pissed because of it. What was so hard to get about the simple concept of being friends with him? The part where he'd more than gladly go along as backup for a skull-bashing jamboree any night? Or the part where he knew Raph knew he wouldn't ask about the fight he'd had? They had a no-obligations agreement, practically. If he'd just called Casey (who could still hear the disappointment in Leo's voice when he'd said he hadn't heard from him) none of this would be happening. He turned the mask, running his fingers over the familiar figure.

 

Another part of him, the blunt, realistic part (the part of him that Raph would say was being an asshole), knew how likely it was that his friend was hurt. He'd seen the dark stains on that warehouse roof when he investigated it himself. His free hand tightened around a hockey stick handle. If someone had so much as breathed wrong at the turtle when (if, his inner asshole corrected. He beat the shit out of it right then and there, leaving it to whimper on the floor.) they found him, there would be hell to pay. For all that Leo and Splinter tried to keep that part of themselves calm, he knew everybody was thinking it. Even Donnie was starting to get fierce, and when Donnie got mad, nobody crossed him. And Mikey? Here the vigilante breathed a bitter chuckle. That kid was a real wild card when it came to his big brother Raph.

 

Casey heard his bedroom window slide open and the 3 soft thumps that indicated the arrival of his friends. They stepped into the living room like they were entering a funeral home. Just another reason to find Raph quicker, he thought. The guy could liven things up better than Mikey when he felt inclined. He supposed that was another asshole-ish thought. These 3 were missing a brother, one of the only people they'd ever known in their entire lives, and he was was thinking about needing someone to whip out a sense of humor.

 

“Hey guys,” he greeted with a casual wave. “Where we headin' tonight?” Leo's shoulders stooped a little.

 

“I'm...not sure. We don't have any leads to follow tonight, so we may just split up and see how much ground we can cover.” His gaze traveled over the living area critically. Casey couldn't help feeling a little sheepish. After last night's dead end, he'd thrown his couch at the wall, leaving a deep indentation where it had hit. And while he'd proceeded to put the couch back where it usually stood, it hadn't made it intact. Suffice it to say he hoped half of his future company didn't mind being closer to the floor than some others.

 

A ghost of a smile flitted over Leo's face: the man was so much like Raph it was almost painful.

 

“So it's, uh, just patrollin' tonight then? A'ight, sounds good. You guys want somethin' to drink before we head out?” They shook their heads. Casey noticed they were much quieter than usual tonight. Not that they'd been talking their heads off or anything from the first place, but he could practically feel the depression rolling off of them.

 

Now, Casey knew he wasn't exactly the brightest guy around. In fact, he was probably the dumbest guy in the room right now. But he still had street smarts, and being able to read people was a major part of that. So, taking in Leo's unusual slumping posture, Mikey's unwillingness to look up from the floor, and Donnie's tightening grip on his Bo staff, he got the idea of what was going on. They would be ready to give up if nobody found another lead soon. He couldn't let that happen. No way.

 

Casey was also aware that the chances of Raph being alive at all were slim. 3 weeks was a long time for anyone, and when you had as many enemies as these guys, it was practically a death sentence. But another thing that made it so easy to get along with the turtle was his stubbornness. He was confident in Raph's ability to get through anything. Casey could return that stubbornness anytime, any place. Now seemed like the time and the place to employ that factor. In Raph's absence, it was his place to keep an eye out for these guys like he knew the other hothead would. So he spoke.

 

“He's alive, ya know. Nothin' else can be true, cause Raphie's too good to go out a prisoner. He gets himself killed, it'll be years from now in some huge brawl, with me there to go down right behind him. And if he's dumb enough to get iced before that, I'll kick his ass back to life myself so he can do it proper.” They looked up at him, surprised.

 

“What makes you so sure?” Mikey asked. He didn't look so much dejected as envious. That's what I wanna see. Lookin' for help keepin' a positive head. Casey grinned and winked.

 

“Either I'm too stubborn or too stupid to think anythin' else. It's a thing us hotheads got comin' out the ears. Maybe you oughta dumb it down a little, Mikey.” The youngest turtle grinned in response. He didn't make any wisecracks, but that was okay by the vigilante. That smile was the closest thing to normal that he'd gotten from the knucklehead in ages. “You comin' or what?”

 

Casey turned to the bedroom door. It wouldn't keep `em long, he reasoned, not with another night of aimless searching ahead of them. But at least it was something. He glared at the street below for a second. It had been 3 weeks. They were out of leads.

 

Didn't mean he wouldn't find any tonight. If he had to shake down every criminal in New York City to get his buddy Raphie back, he was going to do it. Securing the mask in place, he climbed out the window.

 

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So, do you like? Someone's gotta be the positive thinker, you know. I thought `hey, why not Casey?' When lightning didn't strike me down, I assumed it worked.