Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles Fan Fiction ❯ 3 Weeks ❯ 13 ( Chapter 13 )

I give you this in order to celebrate Thanksgiving (and getting the review number over 50), because I most certainly will not have time to post on the actual holiday. It's time for Chapter 13! I know, I know, you can count, but I like announcing now. Hard to break out of that habit. Hopefully this is a good chapter.

 

Disclaimer: How is it that they still aren't mine? *sigh* Then again, I can't draw at all, so maybe that's a good thing.

 

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The best word to describe the place, Michelangelo decided, was `creepy'. Clambering out of the vehicle after Leo, he looked around with a wary eye. Maybe he was just being paranoid. Sure, the trees looked particularly dead, and the boarded-up windows were practically screaming `slasher-flick,' but that could just be him being judgmental. Like if somebody were to walk into an abandoned asylum on a stormy night: just knowing what kinds of things had happened there made it all the more ominous. It was just his overactive imagination at work, the youngest turtle told himself repeatedly. That didn't keep his hands from wandering to the weapons on his belt, muscles tense with anxiety and anticipation.

 

Casey landed behind him with a very audible thump, shutting the doors a little harder than was necessary. The vigilante clapped Mikey on the shoulder for a brief moment, eyes traveling to land on the darkened grey building. Raph would be in there. Richards probably would be, too. That was all he really needed to know. He was going to do whatever he had to do to save his friend. The photo from the meeting sprang up in his mind's eye, making his hands clench into fists, but he pushed the image away violently. There was no time for distraction. His gaze snapped over to meet the orange-banded turtle's own, fierce and solid and heated.

 

“Ain't nothin' in there we can't handle, Mike,” he muttered grimly. The turtle nodded firmly, swallowing. Donatello, coming around from the front, winced at the words, hoping they wouldn't be proven false. Any kind of fighting, any traps or hacking that they weren't aware of needing to see to could be taken care of with minimal trouble, he was sure. But if they'd arrived even a moment too late…If Raphael had suffered the same fate as one of those animals… He didn't know if any of them would be able to live with that kind of guilt. They would know if they had to by the time they left tonight. That much was certain.

 

Leo stared at the front door with painful intensity. It had once been boarded, too, much like the windows, but somebody had recently torn the planks away to enter. Whoever did it had left the door open a small crack, revealing a strip of dark interior. Different emotions crashed over him in powerful waves. He was here…Raph was here, less than 100 yards away. His heart rate increased with the knowledge, and he fought against the urge to tear into the building recklessly and break him out on his own. After 3 weeks of waiting, of painful silences and nightmares, they would finally know. They would finally be bringing him home. Taking a deep breath, he turned to face the others, eyes flashing dangerously.

 

“We move fast and stay together. There aren't any guards posted here, and I think it's safe to say there won't be a security system, either. Just…keep your eyes peeled, okay? He's here. I know he is.” There were nods of assent all around, the air practically shimmering with determination, before they quietly eased into the building.

 

Casey's flashlight was the first to flicker to life, casting a dim yellow glow over the reception area. A thick layer of dust coated everything: lamps, counters, chairs, the small stand full of pet health pamphlets, and what appeared to be an overturned table. He could see where it had recently been disturbed, in the form of footprints and a wide streak signifying where something might have been dragged. Where someone might have been dragging Raph. The beam of light swung upwards, following the trail through a small hallway behind the main counter and leading to a heavy wooden door. Behind it, they could just make out a murmuring voice. Four pairs of eyes traded quick glances; Leo made a commanding gesture and crept forwards.

 

Mikey could feel his pulse pick up, could hear the slight increase in the volume of his breaths as Leo approached the door before them. He was itching to get to Raph, to see with his own two eyes that this wasn't some kind of dream or dead end, that his brother hadn't been swallowed up into some kind of untraceable void. Part of him wanted to yell at Leo to hurry it up, to burst through the door and take out anything that might get in his way. His limbs trembled at the surprising amount of effort it took to hold back. Another part of him wished he had stayed at the lair. What if Raph wasn't here? What if he was, but they were too late? He fought his emotions down. There was no time for doubt. Blue-banded turtle took a cautious glance around, then signaled again: no traps. No alarm. The others hurried to join him.

 

He leaned towards the door, face intense as he strained his ears. The murmuring had stopped, of that much he was certain. There was only a ringing, piercing silence, one that made his stomach clench and a chill run up his spine. It was almost unbearable. He could almost hear his muscles tensing, prepared for a fight. For a moment, fear threatened to paralyze him where he stood. There was a part of him that didn't want to open that door; that didn't want to find out what lay beyond it. It was immediately put to an end. There was no time for fear. Taking a deep breath, he pulled the door open.

 

The first thing to hit Donatello was the thick, cloying scent of blood. It was like a warm wave of copper and death, nearly enough to make him gag. Part of him didn't want to look up, didn't want to see the fate his brother had been left to. He could still see the images in his head, mutilated creatures that hadn't stood a chance. Purple-banded turtle pushed that part to the side furiously. There was no time for despair. Not if he could still help. His heart stopped beating as he forced his gaze up, terrified of what he would find. He heard the others each draw in a sharp breath, could hear his own breath stop in unison with his heart. It made his blood freeze in his veins, horrifying and disturbing and nauseating and forever burned into his memory.

 

The man knelt with his back to them, silhouetted eerily in the flickering light of a single candle. His hair was shaggy and unkempt, clothes wrinkled and stained as he continued what he was doing, motions seeming almost furtive. There was a momentary flash of metal as he paused, raised his arm and reached forwards in a stroking movement. They could see it on him, thick and liquid, coating his hands and dripping slightly with every slightest move. Beneath his knees was a growing puddle of dark red. And there, beneath the man- the genius felt bile rising in his throat- was another leg, a clearly recognizable shade of green. Oh, God.

 

Casey snapped out of his stunned state with an anguished snarl, shooting forward and seizing the man by the back of his collar. Without a second thought, he hurled Richards into the nearest concrete wall, following to pick him up and slam him against it again. He found that words failed him in this instance, found fury crashing through his veins like liquid fire, found himself unable to decide upon the most suiting course of action. The paring knife clattered to the floor as the turtles stumbled over to their brother. Richards stared up at him, shocked and seeming a little afraid, but otherwise completely placid. The vigilante tossed a wild glance over his shoulder.

 

“Donnie! Is- is he-?” His own brain cut off the question, unable to even finish the thought. It went unanswered for a few long moments, and he watched as the eldest turtle stood and backed away to give his brother room to work.

 

Leonardo could feel tears threatening to overflow, could feel nausea sweeping over his entire being, but pushed the sensations away roughly as he took in whatever damage he could see in the dim lighting. Raphael's upper torso and arms were a myriad of deep gashes and tears, bleeding sluggishly but consistently. The second-youngest turtle had long since fallen into unconsciousness, face still contorted in pain from his injuries. His breaths were coming in dry, shallow gasps, with a rasping noise that made the others want to wince in sympathy. Donatello, leaning over him around the bloody mess on the floor, met Casey's gaze for a brief moment.

 

“He's alive.” The statement was simple, words brittle and forced as he looked more closely. Casey's sigh of relief resounded in stereo with Michelangelo's own, and the youngest turtle moved in closer to help however he could. He immediately looked over the thick chains around his brother's wrists, working as quickly as possible to pick the locks. Shackles hit the cold floor with loud, ringing clangs. Donnie's fingers deftly worked at detaching the heavy black collar around Raphael's throat. Once he'd gotten it off, he took a better look and paled, dropping it as though it had burned him. His hands formed shaking fists as he met the concerned eyes of Leo.

 

“It's- it's a shock collar,” he ground out, trembling violently and attempting to push his anger back. “Leo, we have to move him, and we have to do it now.” He couldn't afford to get angry now: not with a life on the line. The same didn't ring true for Leonardo, however. The leader's shoulders tensed and he whipped around to face the two humans, eyes smoldering in unbridled hatred. Casey had frozen completely upon hearing the words, overcome with disgust and anger he hadn't thought possible to feel in such depth before. Slowly, he turned his head to face the other man again. Glassy eyes met his own unflinchingly.

 

“I waited as long as possible,” Richards said firmly, determination in his voice. “He made himself sick. You didn't come to take him, and you can't take him now. It's too late.” The vigilante growled, but Leo grabbed his shoulder in a restraining manner.

 

“Casey, we need you to get Raph's legs. Don and Mike have his arms. We have to leave now if he's going to make it.” The turtle said, voice calm and frozen, eyes fixed on the once-veterinarian. Richards's face contorted slightly in anger and a little panic. He hit the floor with a sharp jolt as the other human did what was requested of him. They exited the room in a careful procession, Leonardo watching after them sharply. The man's limbs twitched as he moved to sit up.

 

“You can't take him now,” he protested, straining to shake off his slight daze. “He's mine. He belongs to me and I have to make him better.” Leonardo was on him in a second, moving with all the speed he could summon. There was a soft scraping as he unsheathed one of his katanas, face cold.

 

“You bastard,” he hissed, emanating an icy fury that made the man flinch away. “He was never yours. He's ours.” The flame on the candle flickered and vanished, leaving them in the dark.

 

There was a sharp slicing sound; the faint whoosh of misplaced air, a heavy thud, and Leo joined the others in the hall, flashlight clicking to life. If there was another pool of fresh blood spreading across the ground when the door swung closed, if the dark sticky substance splashed across his legs didn't all belong to his brother: no one said anything about it.

 

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Oh yeah, I'm feelin' this chapter. It's the one I've looked forward to writing the most! I have celebratory Thanksgiving/50 reviews/13th chapter refreshments available. Review, if you'd so like. I would…But that is neither here nor there. I tried to throw in more Casey, it isn't much at all, really, but more than I originally planned. In fact, the original plan was for him to be waiting in the vehicle and taking, like, no part in this chapter whatsoever. Okay, I've finished rambling.