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The Long Walk	By : Breech_Loader Category: Comics > Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles Views: 2638 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the franchise of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, have invented none of its characters, and make no money from writing this story.

Chapter List
- 11
- 12
- 13
Set A Freak
Co-Written by Harley Quinn hyenaholic and SonicFrank
~~~
Harley: I’m not very good at coming up with regular updates lately, am I?
SonicFrank: Hell no. It’s a good thing I reminded you.
Harley: If I got more reviews it might remind me better-
SonicFrank: Are you trying to hold people hostage for reviews? That’s bitchy. You’re better than that.
Harley: Yeah, I guess...
~~~
Chapter Twelve: Not Very Attractive
Donatello was inside his room, indeed wearing black, thick headphones. He was sitting at his desk, computer on and downloading information, while he pieced together something electronic. His room was tiny, as somehow expected. There were two desks - one directly across the entryway, and another against the far wall, which covered in stacked text books, and gizmos and gadgets of all kinds. His bed was dressed neatly with brown and green sheets, while his pillowcase was purple. His walls were barren, with only one picture of four ten-year-old mutant turtles happily grinning at their beholder, and one long 'To-Do’ List. There was also a hammock, which was made of an improvised net, and hung between both desks at the far corner.
Breech looked around at it all, her green feline eyes smiling thoughtfully. Then she looked at Don and got a naughty idea. She crept up behind him – not that she needed to do much creeping, when he had his headphones on. He didn’t notice. Then she bent over and ran her rough tongue over the back of Don’s neck teasingly.
He was in the middle of something important, and when he sprang to his feet in fright, he dropped the device he was working on, and it crashed loudly with a metallic clang. The way his neck contorted, his arms trembled, and his sudden yelp, was enough to make the prank worthwhile. But tiny fragments of his work scattered along the floor, tiny springs and even tinier screws rolling everywhere. When he faced her, his shell was against his desk, and his eyes were shocked, "Breech!" He pulled his headphones off.
Breech looked at the remains of whatever it had been that he'd been working on, and felt a little guilty. Nonetheless, she smiled slightly, "You should have been paying more attention," she told him, "If I was a Foot member, you'd be on your back by now..." she smirked slightly at that comment.
He was embarrassed. Partially because she was right. "Heh... yeah. But in your case, I doubt I'd mind too much." Getting down on one knee, he picked up the main compartment, and inspected the damage. "Welcome to my humble abode, Breech. I've been meaning to show it to you for a while now."
"I bet," Breech said, sitting down on his bed. She bounced up and down on it a couple of times experimentally, before looking up, "I like your brothers. Well, I like Mikey, anyway. Leo seems a bit... a bit... kinda like a prick. Sorry. But he's still okay."
Sighing as he estimated the damage done to the main component, he placed it on the desk, and pushed it to the side, "Yeah. I can tell Mikey's rubbing off on you a little." Taking a seat on his chair, he looked her over. Breech was on his bed. He had secretly fantasized about her being there for quite some time now, and it took him about eight kinds of discipline to withhold his smirk. Eyeing her brought the now-placed collar to his attention, and he frowned. He had forgotten to tell her about that... "I see you got your collar back..."
"Why'd Leo have to take it, anyway?" Breech asked, "I have plans for that collar. Most of them involve shoving it up somebody or down somebody, but they still count as plans. It's my stuff. I don't have much stuff."
Donny raised an eyebrow, and smiled warmly when he realized the truth of the matter. He took pride in his honesty, however, so he'd have to tell her the truth. "Leo took it, huh? Is that was he said?"
"Yeah, that's what he said," Breech looked up suspiciously, "Which would mean he did take it and not somebody else, right?"
Donatello leaned over, resting his elbows on his knees, and folded his hands as he looked at her. "I'm afraid that's just what he would like you to think. See, I'm pretty sure he only told you that because he didn't want you to be angry with me. But in truth, I took it from you, Breech..." This was bad. Now he'd have to explain the speaker...
"I guessed that the first time around," Breech said, scratching at the line of raw skin on her neck. She wasn't smiling anymore, "So, why'd you do that? What possible use could a piece of spiked leather be to you?"
He rubbed his hands together as he gathered his thoughts as fast as possible. The last thing he wanted was for her, his most cherished friend, to be angry with him. "Actually, it helped me prove your case to Leo. That first night, I had enough explaining to do to fill the Pyramids of Egypt." He reached out for the collar, and tilted it sideways, so that she could see the inside. "He was sceptical. In fact, he refused to believe me about your past. But this line of dead skin cells provided me with the bacterial information to prove that you'd been wearing the collar since you were very young. Also, the fact that you were forced to wear it against your will, as it would only have gathered that much dead skin, and caused such an engraving -" He referred to her neck as he spoke, "If it were put on you uncomfortably tight. That, and you would had to have slept in it, as the skin sheds mostly when you're sleeping." He smiled pleadingly at her. "So, I only took it to help prove that you're sincere, Breech. I didn't need this proof, because I believe you with all my heart. Leo, on the other hand, was a different story. You know this..."
"Yeah, I kinda know all that," Breech said crossly, leaning back, "But you couldn't see all that from my belt, in the dark. You must have looked at it harder later on. So, you took it off me ‘cus you didn't trust me to give it to you; 'cus you didn't trust I was telling the truth. You needed to prove it to yourself," she concluded.
"Incorrect." He leaned back on his chair as well. "I didn't need to see the collar, Breech. I saw your neck..." His voice was growing softer as he explained.
"So why didn't you ask first?" Breech asked him, "I would've lent it to you if you'd asked, you know."
He sighed, now, and looked down at the floor. His feet were surrounded by various little components, tiny pieces that he'd need a magnet to retrieve, as he couldn't pick them up with his thick fingers, "I know... I don't know why I took it without asking. I'm sorry..."
"I think I've been wearing this one for 15 years now," Breech told him, soothed slightly by the apology, "They started making me wear a collar as far back as I can remember. They sewed it on after they found out I was taking it off at night, you know, like a normal person would. The first time I cut it off..." the way she paused, and the shudder was enough, "And that's when this one was put on, what with cutting the old one."
He nodded understandingly. "Mmm..." Deciding now was a good time, he spun his chair around to face his desk, and opened a drawer. He retrieved what appeared to be a notebook, and turned back to her as he appeared to be writing. "You made me realize something very important tonight, y'know."
"What, again?" Breech asked, trying to make light of how down she'd made herself feel in the past two minutes.
"Yeah," He looked up at her for a moment, his smile as soft and smooth as she'd learned to love, and went back to 'writing' as he spoke, "I didn't know this about myself until you helped teach it to me. I mean, I knew it, but I didn't know that I knew about it. Does that make any sense...?"
Breech leant back again, her hands behind her head, thinking about the words, "I guess so," she said eventually, "Like... when you know something's wrong with you but you just can't make it stop? Happens to me all the time."
"Well, not exactly." He looked up at her again, his smile reassuring her that he was listening, that he wanted to understand her pain. Then he returned to 'writing', "But this is more like when you act on what your heart is feeling, but because it's such a natural thing to do, you don't realize that you're doing it for that reason."
Breech thought about that one, "I figure I'm going to need your example of what you realised before I get that one," she said finally, "By the way, Mikey says you're a better skateboarder than him. I find that kind of hard to believe..."
Donatello's head almost snapped up to look at her, but didn't. He just looked up quickly, and though his smile remained, an eyebrow raised over the other in question. "Oh yeah?" He knew he was humble, and very calm compared to his brothers. But he hoped inwardly that she didn't mistake his tranquillity for weakness... "And why might that be? Do I not strike you as the type?"
"I don't know..." Breech said, without even thinking, "Mostly because he's really good, and he doesn't strike me as the humble type, so if you are better than him you'd have to be a whole lot better, which doesn't look that easy to be."
He gave no reaction other than to keep smiling, and gently to back to 'writing'. "Well, I taught Mikey nearly everything he knows, aside from talking and Ninjitsu. I had to, because Leo and Raph didn't have the time or the patience to teach him much. So, when we were children, one of the things he mentioned to me is that he wished he could learn to skate like Tony Hawk. I wanted really badly to help him, but I couldn't, because I didn't know how to skate myself." Looking back up at her, his eyes sizing her up for a moment, he revealed a black pencil as he placed it on his desk. Then he went back to writing. With... another pencil? She couldn't see. "So, I learned from a young age that if I wanted to teach anyone anything, especially Mikey, I'd have to learn to do it myself. So I did."
Breech continued to watch him writing, "Makes sense," she said, "Drug runners couldn't teach me how to slit somebody's throat with a tessen; that's why they sent me to a man known as Master Tatsu. Who taught me a whole shitload of other things besides that, including how cruel people can be. You might think there's a place where people will quit hurting you because they can't think of anything worse to do, but I can absolutely assure you, that you are wrong. Humans have an excellent imagination."
He placed a brown pencil on the desk, now. And continued 'writing', "Evidently, nothing you couldn't overcome. Isn't that right? Whatever the worst thing they did to you was, you managed to come out okay. You're still one of the most genuine people I've ever met, and your inner beauty shines through your eyes and your heart. Master Tatsu couldn't break your spirit, Breech, or your will to be happy. And I don't think anyone, or anything, ever has a chance at doing that." He lifted the notebook before his face for a moment, then returned it to its original position as he continued.
"Meh. I dare say there's somebody out there who could do it," Breech commented, still watching Donatello intensely, "If I hadn't gotten lucky when I was younger, I'd still believe that was the way it was supposed to be. I wouldn't have tried to get away. And I wouldn't be here tonight."
Donatello bit his lip for a moment, as if in regretful sorrow. It was slight, but it was there. Then he placed a green pencil on his desk, placed the notebook face-down on his lap. He folded his hands upon it, and watched Breech intriguingly. "You tried to escape...?"
"Yeah," Breech said, "I tried to get away before now. Wouldn't have tried if I hadn't known. Didn't work out that time, of course. You know, abused children don't tell anybody a lot of the time, because they believe everybody else lives that way. They believe it's normal for daddy to scream at mommy and hit her if she doesn't have dinner on the table when he comes back from drinking the rent money away. And variants on that."
"Mmm..." His looked down at his notebook again. "Did you learn otherwise while you were free for this undisclosed amount of time as a child? I mean, did you learn that other people don't live the way you were living..?"
"No. Learnt just before it, when I was starting to get all curious about the world and sneaking out of my room at night," Breech said, "Of course, I always came back at that point. Because I thought my life was 'normal'," Breech replied, "Unfortunately, when you're 10 years old you don't put much thought into how you're going to run away; you just take the first chance you get."
He had to think about what she was saying. There were a million and one things flowing through his head, each one screaming for his attention. Though he did understand what she was talking about, just in a different light. "I'm very pleased that I got to show you my home, Breech. Having you here in my room is eons more effective than having you on this lousy computer screen behind my head." He smiled at her, thought he was visibly guilty for changing the subject. He couldn't help it, though. There was so much joy in his heart, to have her there with him. He didn't want to be sad for her... he wanted to be happy, with her. But still, he'd listen... "What did you see? You know. About normal people...?"
Breech leant forward again, staring at her feet, "Well, I was about 10, and in my ‘sneaking out of my bedroom window, down fourteen stories to get to pavement level and find out more about the world' phase. Most of the time, I didn't go far, and all I saw was vice and hate. And then one night I heard music, and laughter, and I followed it. To cut a long story short, I wound up on the roof of a hotel, watching a prom through a skylight. I stayed up there all night and I just watched, right until the whole thing was over..." she rubbed her nose at the memory, "Anyway, when I got back to my bedroom, that was the first time cried myself to sleep,” she sighed, “But it wasn't the last..."
What he'd just thought about being happy? Yeah, that was gone, now. Something about her story hit him hard, struck a delicate nerve, touched a tender emotion. His eyes watered for just a moment. "Breech, I... I'm sorry." And what was he gonna do? Take her out to a fancy, prom-like dinner? How would that help? He’d promised he'd help her, and he knew it'd be difficult, dangerous, and probably painful. But he wouldn't have promised it, if he knew he was helpless to help her... "Listen. If there's anybody in the world, anybody, who deserves to be as happy as those people in that dance hall at the hotel for that prom, it's you... And if I could give my life so you could have just one moment like that, I would. In a heartbeat... But I can't... And I'm sorry..."
"Don't sweat it, Don," Breech said, looking up, "So..." she looked at him, her head tilted to one side as she forced a smile, "What's taking you so long? Is what you realised that big a deal that I actually end up telling you something new about me to fill the gap?"
He shook his head, now. His helplessness to help Breech wouldn't leave his mind for a while. But he answered her question politely and enthusiastically anyway. "Well, watching you interact with Mikey earlier this evening sparked a sudden realization in me that made my heart warm up." He was smiling wider now. "You made me realize that everything I've done up to this point - the lair, the living room, the gadgets, everything, was for him. It makes me happy to see him happy. When we were little, we didn't have much at all. No toys, no nothing. And that made Mikey sad. So, from a young age, I started making toys for him. That led to me getting better and better at it. And thus, today, I can build a computer or a truck almost from scratch. In a way, you taught me how important he is to me..."
"Well... good, I guess," Breech said, "So... why are you thanking me for that? It's not like I actually had any intention of making you realise that when he started showing me around. It was just an accident."
He raised his hands in defeat - a delightful shrug. "I'm not sure. But you must be very special to have made me realise such a thing, because nobody else has before." He looked down at his notebook again, and grinned. "I'm glad you got to see him skateboard. It's one of the only things I've taken the time to teach him that he's actually dedicated to. For example, at one point, he wanted to learn how to draw, so he could make his own comic book. He never quite stuck around long enough to master the art. But I had to master it, before I could teach him. Thankfully, though..." He lifted the notebook, and turned it around for her to see. "It wasn't a wasted effort."
Before her very eyes, was a picture... of her. A beautiful one, of her sitting on his bed. Though the bed seemed to discontinue beneath her legs, her form was captured skilfully in black and white, with her eyes being green and brilliant. Don didn't seem like an artist. But he was. He certainly was...
Breech's jaw dropped, and she found she couldn't say a word. Was that really how Don saw her? Was she really that pretty? She couldn't find any words to express how she felt at that moment, and she just sat there, astonished. Eventually, she managed to say something, "Oh."
He turned the notebook to face him, and held the picture at arms' length, "Yup. Now I have to thank you a second time, for providing me with something to decorate my room with. I think it'll go nicely on the wall right behind you." Leaning the notebook against his computer screen, so it stands open, he places his hands on his knees. "I suppose I ought to apologize for not warning you. This moment, you being here for the first time, makes me so happy, Breech, that I felt the need to capture it. Now I'll always remember how special it was to have you here for the first time. That, and I wanted to depict you as naturally as possible. I failed, though. You're still a thousand times over the picture on the gorgeous scale."
Breech's ears were flushing pink again, and she rubbed the back of her neck awkwardly, "Well," she said, still finding it a little hard to voice her thoughts right now, "I guess I'll have to take your word on that. Are you sure you're not just saying that because I'm the first female mutant you've ever met, and you don't have any other female mutants to compare me to?"
He shook his head, his smile reassuring. "Do you really need me to answer that? You're quite crimson as it is..." Breech was adorable when she blushed. Adorable.
"Well, um... you do seem to be the only person who ever found me attractive above the neck," Breech replied, "I mean, with guys like Casey and Mikey, I get the feeling they're focussing on good old T and A, but you... I feel like you actually look under all this fur and like... in... here," she patted her chest, above her heart.
Don's gaze almost turned to a fuzzy one. "You're right. And I can't look away..."
Breech's blush had increased, "Because you know... I don't feel very attractive in that area either."
He shook his head again, though lazily. "I'm still here, aren't I? Your heart is your greatest feature. By far. And I'm very lucky to be a part of it..."
"Yeah, well... my upbringing didn't exactly leave me with great mental and emotional stability," Breech sighed, "It's my first visit here and I nearly had a blow-up with Leo as it is."
He figured as much. But that didn't phase him. It could, but he wouldn't let it. "Don't let it bother you too much. I can already tell that Leo likes you. He might not show it, or even know it himself, but I know my brothers better than they know themselves, and Leo sees you as the rebellious teen sister he's never had." His gaze didn’t falter one bit. It shouldn't have, because he was telling the truth.
"Can't see why he'd want one," Breech smiled, "Doesn't he already have a rebellious teen brother? Or two? Or maybe even three?"
This made him grin, because it was definitely the truth. Even Don could be rebellious in his own ways. "You can count on it. Though, to be honest, I think having a girlfriend with your looks, potential and genetics is the most rebellious thing any of us has ever managed. I guess that makes me the 'bad boy'." He couldn't believe he'd just said that. Breech was rubbing off on him...
Breech couldn't help but laugh at this, "Don..." she chuckled, unable to quite think up the words to go with that sentence. For whatever reason, it was just so hard to see Don, with his open, friendly smile and smooth, pleasant voice as a bad boy, "You know, there's a song," she smirked, "It's called, ‘Girl All The Bad Guys Want’. Oh, man..."
"Well mark me as bad. Because I want that girl." He pointed at her with a grin. "And honestly, she's looking especially appealing this very moment."
Breech's smile sank a little, "You know, it's times like this, when we're just talking and laughing, that for a little while I can actually forget that you're allergic to me... And then I think about how much I want to hold you and I remember..."
His smile sank, also. "I'm working on that... But, I want you to know something. My allergies are nothing compared to how much I want to hold you. And I'll be damned if they ever prevent it. Don't let them keep you at a distance, Breech. I'm trying to get closer..."
"Every time we meet you get closer, and I feel like you're going to push me away, and I wouldn't blame you for doing so," Breech was talking about more than just an allergy, and they both knew it, "I just... find it so easy to trust you... but... at the same time it's so hard..."
This was new. He'd always thought she never had a problem trusting him. "Hard...? Why? I would never... betray you..."
"It's not just you... I mean..." Breech looked down, "I mean... it's just scary, is all..."
Don had a worried look on his face, until he realized what he had to do. Within a split second, the bed shifted under his weight, and he slid his arms around her from behind. Then he whispered, lips dangerously close to her ear. "Don't be scared... I'm right here..."
Breech leant back for several seconds, "I made a promise to you, once. That I wouldn't kill anybody, ever again. Well... if I'm going to tell you something, you have to promise me something. Promise me... you won't get mad at me for what I tell you..."
He didn't have to think of this. He's forgiven her for killing, and isn't the least bit phased about it. This should be easy. "I promise... I could never get mad at you for confiding in me..." His bravery toward showing her affection had increased, perhaps because they were in his room.
“Then...” Breech swallowed, “You should know...”
~~~
Harley: And you’ll find out next chapter what Don should know, NEXT CHAPTER, along with the fanfic’s first graphic sex scene. Next chapter. In the meantime, give me some reviews or I won’t put up the next chapter!
SonicFrank: Harley’s just kidding. That’s bitch shit, holding people hostage for reviews. Besides, it never works out anyway.
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The Long Walk