Adult-FanFiction.org : Comics

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
- 15
- 16
- 17
The Long Walk
Co-Written by Harley Quinn hyenaholic and SonicFrank
~~~
Harley: Thanks for the reviews! And I’d like to apologise again for my account and my OC having the same name; you can blame FF.net for not letting me use the regular one. But look on the bright side, at least she’s not doing Raph!
~~~
Chapter Sixteen: Meat and Muscle
Breech was now bandaging up her opponent's cut arm. Wrapping injuries was, unfortunately, something she'd gotten all too much practice at, "You're lucky this was only a sparring match," she commented to him, "I've gutted people with these babies," she showed her claws briefly, "I mean seriously, I could have hit an artery, Mikey." She washed off the blood trickling from the cuts, and started to wrap a clean bandage around his arm, "You know, that was a pretty good tactic you used," she continued, before Mikey could make any comments, "I mean, at first I thought you were an idiot for all that talking. Not that I got angry... but it's still pretty distracting, and MAN is the sound of your voice annoying."
Michelangelo was hard to figure out. Was he really as dumb a kid as he seemed, or did he have logic behind his behaviour? It could go either way. Still, there was something oddly mature about his immaturity. While he fooled around that entire match, he was also very careful, and very aware of his actions. He'd been well-trained. "I dunno whether that's a compliment or not, but thanks!" Then his face went, for the first time that she'd seen, serious. He looked sternly at her chest, and judging by his aura, she doubted he was gawking. "...if you could've hit an artery, why'd you use your claws? It was just a sparring match..."
"Oh, that's EASY," Breech smirked, and pointed at her own wrists, "See? Those are arteries, where people with even worse emotional problems than mine cut themselves. Go further up, where I actually dug in, and there's mostly meat and muscle," she pointed at his forearm, which she was bandaging now, "I didn't go deep, or anywhere near anything important. But you couldn't pull away without getting your arm scratched nastily. So you aren't stupid, even if you are kinda dumb sometimes," she grinned.
He grinned back. This was more the Mikey she knew. She'd known him for less than twenty-four hours now, but somehow, that was enough. She knew Mikey more than she knew Donatello. And that was a sad fact. "That's tough talk from someone who's datin' a tortuga. When I get my first girlfriend, she's gonna look like Beyonce!"
"Pft," Breech didn't seem offended at all. She tied the bandage tightly over the cuts, "What? Don't I look enough like Beyonce for you?" she joked, striking a pose, "And I bet an anorexic Beyonce look-a-like couldn't do this," she put her feet behind her ears, standing briefly on her hands.
"Pft! I'll take a shell over that any day!" Looking his wrist over, he smirked in delight. "And no way would my first girlfriend be anorexic! She'd be a pizza-eatin', haunch-kickin' princess! And she'd play video games, skateboard, and not hit me when I call her one hot feline!"
"Yeah, and then you'd find out she was throwing all that pizza up every few hours and hated her own body with a degree of self-loathing only found in the seriously mentally disturbed," Breech righted herself, "Seriously though, Mikey..." she stopped smiling for a moment, "You're Donny's brother. Do you think I'm good enough for him?"
"Wha-?" His eyebrow rose, reminiscent of his brother. Michelangelo had a different energy to his brothers, and he was by far the youngest at heart. But, sometimes, just sometimes, she could see Donatello within him. When they were confused, for example, their expressions were nearly identical. He didn't seem to share his brother's soft, understanding smile, though. He could only grin wickedly. Now that his cuts were meanded, he flipped behind the couch he was sitting on, so he could lean both elbows on the backrest as he watched her. "In what genre? I mean, Don usually wins when I spar with 'im, so if I beat you, he could probably do it with one arm wrapped behind his shell! But if you mean something else, you're gonna have to rephrase!"
"I mean, Mikey, that I've killed people for people who are working for your worst enemies," Breech said, "And killed people of my own volition, for that matter. Not that they were very nice people, but you can't stand around making excuses. Not to mention, it's pretty damn obvious I'm one messed up bitch. Let's call it... quality control. If so... am I good enough for him?"
"I dunno," he answered earnestly. Michelangelo was straight-forward, to the point where he opened his mouth a little too often, and didn't always know when not to, "I sure as shell wouldn't date you. You're a real babe, and I love your attitude about movies and stuff, and you're just as wicked as Don said you were before I met you! But you're too much like Raph for my taste, and too little like tomato sauce. Volcano-Head Raph always made Don sad when we were kids. Now you do it, and it smells like New Jersey." He eyed the couch for a moment, then continued. "But, Don seems to think you are. You chose the right turtle to go out with, that's for shell-sure."
Mikey's straight-forwardness was exactly why Breech had asked him, and not the more mature Leo. She knew he'd be honest, even if the answer hurt, "Thanks for the honesty, Mikey," she told him. Then her face became thoughtful, "I don't know Raphael very well... and that's not a good base for making judgements. So... how did he make Don sad?"
"Um..." He had to think about this. When they were kids, Mikey never paid much attention to these things. He was so fascinated by the fact that he was alive that he never paid much mind to how things happened, and what the causes and effects were. He just knew that if he didn't eat, his tummy would hurt, and if he didn't have anyone or anything to play with, that he'd be bored and lonely. And of course, that if he didn't train, Master Splinter would punish him by depriving him of fun, "Raph used to make me sad by breaking my stuff, and pushing me around, and eating my chocolate-chip cookies, even though he doesn't like chocolate. But Mister Tello’s more complicated. He's always been way too quiet, and so Raph made sure he stayed that way."
Mikey was still deep in thought, his lack of ability to convert his thoughts into words being imminent. "I think, you're like the time Don built a snorkel for Raph, and he never used it. Or the time he drew a picture for him, and the next day, Donny found it in the trash. I dunno how you do it, but you make him sad the same way. And it bothers me more than I'll let myself show, cause' I know how he feels for you. I know that slap in the face you gave him last night hurt more than all of Raph's blows to my head put together..." He looked away from her, down at his forearms. "...how come you get mad when I call you a pretty kitty? You are..."
Breech sighed, "Yeah... I guess sometimes I overreact to stuff... But Mikey, all of the worst and most horrible things in my life happened to me because I'm a cat..." she tried to think straight about her own situation, and grimaced with effort, "Like... when my owners - previous owners hit me - and they did that a lot - they'd call me an animal, no rights, no brains, no dignity... And when I started asking why it was ME killing people in their way, it was because I'm an animal... it's hard to explain... it's only a few days since it stopped... I guess I started associating being an animal with being hurt," she said eventually.
"Well, duh." He spoke with hand-gestures now, much different from those of his brother. "We know you're all whacked out because of your past. That's why we don't get steamed and go all Kung-Fu Turtle on you! The only reason it hurt is cause' you had just finished telling me that you were all hissy-fitty at me cause' I didn't know you. Don thought he did. So hitting him kinda just rammed him back into the same hole I'm in, which he kinda thought he'd already climbed out of." He scratched his left shoulder.
"Hey, I hit him for the pudding crack," Breech pointed out. She looked glum again, thinking about Don and Raphael, "So... basically, Raphael sent the message to Don, that he was better than Don because none of what Don did for him was good enough..." her expression hardened, "What an asshole."
Mikey raised an eyebrow again. "Raph's kind of a hot-head, y'know? A loose cannon. Say one thing wrong, and he goes horse-boogers! Once he's mad, there's no stopping him. He's so angry about being a turtle, that you remind me of him! That's why I wish Don saw you as a sister, and wasn't so... Juliet, about you. As great as you are, Breech, and as much I like to look at you, I wouldn't date you, because you aren't nice enough... And I'm kind of afraid you're gonna end up hurting him worse than Raph ever could."
"Yeah, I worry about that too," Breech admitted, "Well..." she straightened up, "This seems to be a simple matter of under-appreciation. I appreciate what Don's done for me. I just need to show it more. Besides, if anybody's inferior in this relationship, it's me," she smirked again, "And sure as hell I don't want to make you sad, Mikey. I bet you blubber like a little girl."
He grinned back at her. "That'd make two of us! Now let's get back in the dojo before I end up spilling the pepperoni about what he thought of you in the sack. If I told you that, you'd both wanna cut my shell into Legos." He turned around, grinning as he headed for the door.
Breech didn't say anything at first. She was still thinking about what Mikey had told her about Raphael. Maybe that particular sibling hadn't meant to be an asshole to his younger brothers, "Oh, I'm sure I can guess what he said anyway," she smirked, "Oh, and keep that bandage clean, and change it tomorrow. And tell somebody if it starts hurting worse."
He turned his head to her, his left eye rising above the right. "You seriously think this needed a bandage? I just wanted to get you alone, so I could try my luck at a quickie! Tuh-uh!"
Breech grinned and slapped him on the back of the head, but not that hard, "The moral of the story is, if you want somebody to believe you on the punch line, don't make everything said before it contradict it," she told him, "I don't give out quickies. It's a long term relationship, or nothing!"
He grinned at her. "I don't do quickies either. I last too long for 'em! You couldn't handle this, Toots!" he stopped, then. "Say Breech?"
"Yeah?" Breech asked, looking at him. He looked pretty serious again.
"...Donny hates that he's allergic to you... I wish I were, instead of him..." He had no idea how he wanted her to reply to that. It was just something he'd held in...
Breech sighed, "Mikey, I'm gonna give you a big responsibility right now," she told him, "If I ever do something stupid that hurts Don's feelings, you'll tell me, right? I know I can trust you to be brutally honest. Will you do that for me, kiddo?"
He raised an eyebrow again, and looked down. "I can't... If I did that, Donny would get mad at me. And you'd probably tear my shell off..."
Breech leant on a wall, "I know you probably wouldn't think this of a feline, Mikey," she smirked slightly, "But I can be one insensitive, selfish bitch sometimes. But I don't want to hurt Don. I guess it should be my job to understand when I'm hurting him... but I wouldn't turn down a few pointers now and then. You seem to be his favourite brother."
Mikey looked up at her, an excitement in his eyes for just a moment, then looked back down. He took a deep sigh, and spoke low. "There's nothing you can do, cause' aside from being a really good friend, you aren't doing anything right. In order to fix any one thing, you'd have to change completely, and then he'd know something's up. This counts for everything besides the bedroom and the bein' a smokin' hot babe, of course."
Breech thought about it, "I'll put some thought into it," she said finally. She wasn't sure if she could change herself totally... but she sure as hell could try, for Don. She'd never felt this way for anybody except him.
He rose a finger in the air, his face completely serious. This was almost out of character, for him. "One thing. Just one thing, and that's all you're gettin' outta this handsome young fellah."
"And what is this 'one thing'?" Breech asked him.
He took a deep, deep breath, and gathered his thoughts before he started. "What the shell is the matter with you!? If you weren't a girl, I'd back you one! Are you really more of a meat-head than I am? Cuz I know, when Don's trying to help me with something, I try my very best to help him help me. But you, you're not just being counter-productive, you're being as useless as you're infertile! Don's really been pulling for you, and he's putting all this effort and spending all this time making you things that he thinks you might need, and he's trying his best to make potions and serums and medicine and all this other hocus pocus just so he could be with you and keep his promise. But you're not doing anything to help him. You just make him feel stupid for trying! It's not his fault he's allergic to you, and it's not his fault you've never opened up a Christmas present before. Why can't you put your problems and insecurities aside to help him, like he's putting everything that's important to him aside to help you?" He looked down again, sadly. "He's... trying his best, Breech. And you... you're just along for the ride, and I hate it..."
Breech looked thoughtful for a long moment, "Mikey, I'd hit you if you weren't so god-damned right," she told him eventually, "Excuse me... there's something I need to do..." She turned and headed into the main living quarters, looking deeply thoughtful.
Mikey watched her go, and shook his head. He hoped he'd gotten to her, at least a little. His brother meant the world to him, and it sucked to see him so alone, even now that he was with someone. He headed back to the dojo, leaving her to her thoughts as she had implied.
Breech looked around the living quarters, quickly finding a pen and something to write on. On it, she made two columns. One was titled, "What Don Has Done For Me". The other was titled "What I've Done For Don". Her column was quickly completed by the words, "Been a bitch" and "Had sex with him". Don's column seemed to go on and on. Before long, she had run out of room and turned over onto the other side of the page, and she was starting to get angry - at herself.
It wasn't long after Mikey had left her alone, that Don had become worried. Suggesting that he go to check on her, Master Splinter overruled, stating that he should continue his sparring match against Raphael. He went to check on her himself, leaving Leo in charge of safety and corrections. He slid the dojo's door open, stepped out, and shut it behind him.
Catching sight of her in the living room, he walked soundlessly toward his newest student, supporting himself with his cane. She didn't hear him breathe, she didn't hear him step. She only felt his presence when he sat beside her.
"Oh," Breech looked up from her list, "Hello, Master Splinter," she paused, "Do you want to talk to me?"
He looked at her quizzically. "It seems Michelangelo has shone this invisible light he has within him. I came to make certain that you weren't reading comic books as a result." He smiled, which looked naturally like a grin, due to the shape of his face.
Breech sighed, "I was just thinking about what he told me, Master Splinter," she said quietly, "And I'm glad he told me, because I didn't notice. I mean... well... considering things, I haven't been very grateful, have I?"
Splinter leaned his hands on the cane before him, and looked forward. "Donatello does not aim for your thanks, Bridget. He only aims for your happiness. That alone would be thanks enough." He took a deep breath, which was scarred with his old age. "Perhaps I have not been grateful enough, myself..."
"What do you mean by that, Master Splinter?" Breech asked, confused.
Another deep breath, and he spoke. "Donatello speaks nonsense of prolonging my life through science. He gives me medicine, which I do not take. And, aside from providing me with a potential daughter, has never once misbehaved. Perhaps I also must rethink my actions, or lack-there-of."
"Well, maybe you should-" Breech stopped mid-thought, "Wait. You consider me a potential daughter? That is me you're referring to, right? Not April, who's infinitely better suited to making this family happy?"
Splinter eyed her with a toothy grin, then stood up with the support of his cane. "Some questions are better-suited for time to answer. Come. We must continue your training." He began for the dojo again, as silently as before.
"Master Splinter..." Breech paused, putting down her pen, "About what you said earlier... if Don only wants me to be happy, does that mean that all I need to do to make him happy, is be happy about what he does for me?"
Splinter stopped short, and took another breath before he spoke. He didn't turn. "I cannot speak for my son. But that is my advice. Now, I suggest you focus your mind on training. It is Raphael's turn to select an activity..."
"Oh," Breech said, "Goody. Well, I guess it is time I got to know him." She followed Master Splinter into the dojo, where Don and Raphael were now sparring.
Right from the start, from when she walked in and saw them going at it, it was plainly obvious that red-masked brute's main tactic was to use his strength, and his intimidating mass, as his fiercest weapon. He attacked, not blindly, but constantly, and with full-force. He was stronger than Don and he knew it. Especially when he was jealous of him. He lunged at his brother with Sai pointed forward, which Donatello foresaw, and blocked. It took him all the strength he could muster, but he managed to spin the bo, sending Raph's sai out of his hands. It was then that the larger turtle tackled him, and pinned him to the ground.
"Gimme dat!" He grabbed Don's bo, and the two began a tug o' war.
Breech looked at Master Splinter, "You know, I'm suddenly finding myself extremely grateful that you picked Mikey for me to spar against, Master Splinter," she said softly.
"Yes." He nodded. "It was a wise choice indeed." Master Splinter watched as his most temperamental son displayed his biggest weakness. Anger.
Don cringed, teeth visible under the pressure. "You've... got it won, Raph! I can't do anything! Let go!"
To this, Raph grumbled. "It ain't ovuh 'til it's ovuh, Hot-Shot! He let go of the weapon, the sudden move causing Don to whack himself in the face with a grunt. The red-clad turtle took this opportunity to push his brother's bo, along with his hands, behind his head, pinning them to the ground. "Ain't so tough now, are ya?!"
Breech watched the fight, and frowned. This wasn't like her match with Mikey. Sure, he'd won. But he hadn't demanded a show of submission. To him, the whole thing had been a game. Raphael seemed to feel a deep need to have his own existence validated - by invalidating that of others. Her frown became a glare, and she wasn't sure whether to step in or not.
Donatello's face was angrier than she had ever seen. "That's it, Raph! You win! But if you think I'm going to submit to you, you've got me all wrong!"
"Yuh still got yuh weapon! How 'bout lettin' go, and I can end the pain!?" Raph's smirk was enough to send even Don over the edge.
"Not on your shell!" Was his reply. And to this, Raph lifted an arm, and punched his brother square in the face. "Let go of it, Donny! I ain't playin'!" Don's grunt was louder this time, and he complied.
"You want me to let go? Okay. You asked for it!" He slid one hand out from under his bo, and used their closed distance to send a crossed elbow to his sibling's face. This caused Raph's grip on the bo to lighten, which Don took advantage of. He turned the stick in his brother's direction, and would have impaled him in the gut would it have been sharp. Raph fell back, and now Donny was free.
Breech watched. She wasn't sure of what to do. She was angry, and as usual she imploded. She wanted to punch Raphael right now, "Master Splinter, didn't you say it was Raphael's turn to choose the training activity?" she asked him, hoping to interrupt the fight before it got even uglier.
He nodded, and looked over to Leonardo, who had been put in charge. "Yes. However, Leonardo has not seen fit to end this. I know not why." This was no longer a sparring match, because now the both of them were angry.
In the time it took them to speak, Don had already flipped to his feet, and Raph had roared as he lunged a swung right-hook at him. It landed, and Don replied with two well-placed face shots of his own. "Stop it, Raph! You're going too far!"
"Dat's nothin'. I'm about tuh send YOU even farthuh!"
Leo had held back because he had hoped Raph would curb his anger. It obviously wasn’t happening, "Okay, Raphael!" he finally stepped in, "This isn't a war! Let's call it a draw, okay?"
"Yes." Master Splinter chimed sternly. "That is indeed enough."
"Cool it," Leo spoke more calmly to his angry brother this time, "It's just training, not hazing. Or some kind of cage match."
Raphael's temper had already gotten the best of him, but he knew that if he continued attacking, Master Splinter would have to take him down himself. So he pointed a finger at his brother's face instead. "If you EVUH elbow me in duh face like dat again, I'm gonna tear your neck right outtuh yuh shell!"
"Oh, right! So this is all my fault!?" Donatello argued back. "I don't know who you think you're pointing that finger at, Raph, but it better get out of my face or-"
"Enough!" Master Splinter landed soundlessly between them in a moment, "The two of you will not fight this way any longer within the walls of my dojo!" He pointed his cane at Raphael's neck, to enforce distance.
"Raph, next time just accept somebody's surrender, instead of trying to smash their shell open," Leo said. He too was angry, and trying hard not to make it worse.
Raphael grumbled again, his eyes stabbing through his purple-clad brother like a spear through a fat salmon. Deciding on saying nothing, he turned around, and picked up his sai.
Don took a deep breath, glad that he hadn't let his brother embarrass him, and stepped out of the ring.
Breech stepped forward this time, "Master Splinter told me it's your turn to choose an activity," she tried to divert Raphael's focus of anger, "Providing that activity isn't the smashing of skulls, I'm all for knowing what you'd find fun and challenging at the time," her nasty side couldn't help but add, "How about colouring by numbers?"
Raphael snarled at her, and pointed a sai at her nose. "I got yuh crayons right heah!"
"Cool it Raph. Breech is just kidding," Leo said quickly, "Right, Breech?" he checked with the feline.
"I haven't decided yet," Breech replied offhandedly.
Sai were twirled, and then both holstered. "Well you bettuh make up yuh mind, cuz I ain't takin' no crud from some back-layin' two-bit-"
"Raphael! That is enough!" Master Splinter stepped in. "You have single-handedly humiliated myself and your brothers! I will not allow more mindless fighting of any kind! Today's training will be postponed until tomorrow, and you will meditate with me. Alone."
As the two of them left the dojo for Master Splinter’s room, Raphael muttering all the way, Don walked up next to Breech. "I'm sorry for my brother's behaviour, Breech. I'm embarrassed that you had to see me so angry because of him."
"That's okay," Breech tried to think of the right thing to say, and settled for the truth, "Seeing him treating you that way made me pretty angry too."
Don was flustered, but no longer angry. "Now that training's been cut short - and by that I mean extremely short, is there anything you'd like to do for the rest of the day? I have a ton and two pounds work to do, but I'd gladly put off an hour or two of my time to be with you." He had just gotten punched in the face three times, from what Breech had seen, and he was already back to smiling and treating her like golden silk. His left cheek was swelling, but his smile did not diminish.
Breech remembered what Master Splinter had said. Leo and Mikey had returned to training, but were not currently sparring. Why was it so hard to be happy? And with more people there, it was harder still, "Well, I'd like to talk to you in the living quarters," she said, "Without Leo and Mikey eavesdropping, as it were."
Don twirled his bo, which was still in his hands, and holstered it. "Sure. You were amazing out there today, by the way. The skill it takes to be able to kick off the ceiling with such elegance and grace - I was stunned! You're just full of surprises, aren't you?" He slid the door open behind her. "After you, m'lady."
Breech smiled, and went through the door, "Yeah, I guess I am, aren't I?" she looked from the table, to the couch. Eventually she settled on sitting on the table, so that she could face Don, "Donny... Don... I... need to say something, and I'm not used to saying it..." she spoke quietly, waiting for him to sit.
"Uh oh." He stated, a bit taken aback. He had expected this to be a peaceful, laid-back, pleasant talk. But from the troubled look on Breech’s face, bad news might have been involved. He took a seat before her, the couch squeaking under his weight where he sat. He clasped his hands together, and leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "Tell me. What's on your mind?"
"It's just..." Breech swallowed. She looked down at her list, then quickly crumpled it up and tossed it aside, "You see... I'm good at showing that I'm angry, and I'm good at showing I'm pissed off and good at showing I'm irritated... and all that..." she scratched at the line on her neck nervously, "I'm just... not very good at showing that I'm happy. Not much practice, I'm afraid..."
Donatello smiled. "Oh, Breech. What in the world did Mikey put into your head? I know you're happy. If you weren't, you'd have let me and everyone else know for sure." His match against Raphael seemed to have refreshed him, a much-needed stress reliever. "This situation is a million and a half times preferable to the one that you were buried in last week. I'm just grateful that I was there to dig you out of it. And I know you are, too." It had been a few days now, of non-stop work, a few allergic skits, and one near-death experience. Yet he still looked at her the same way as he did that first night on the Chrysler Building's roof. He did so now, and he would do so for as long as she chose to stay...
"No, Don, you don't get it," Breech swallowed, taking his hand, "You make me happy. Happier than anybody else has ever done, in my whole life. Even since meeting your whole family, and getting away from that place, and... and everything... You make me so happy. And it's not the things you've given me, or the rules you've broken for me, or anything like that..." the words got harder to say. Why was it so much easier to be angry than to be happy? "Being with you... Knowing that you... love me, that's more than I've ever had in my life, and... you make me so happy... I could cry..." Almost to mark this point, tears started to roll down her cheeks.
It took a long, long moment, before Donatello's own eyes watered at her words, shimmering off the light from the lair. Words couldn't express how she had made him feel. His hands reached out for her, slowly, softly, and planted themselves firmly on her hips. He then lifted her, weightlessly, pulling her body into his lap and sitting her sideways. He held her in his arms - the most adoring, emotionally loving embrace following suit. For this one moment, for one second in his life, he didn't feel alone, or outcast. He didn't feel unloved... "T-Thank you, Breech... You make me happy, too..."
Breech was incredibly light. Don could have carried her with one hand. She sagged in his arms, and suddenly a new expression crossed her face. Not a grin or a smirk, or the strangely tight, restrained smile she had given him on occasion, that always looked as if she was holding something back, but a really open smile, which looked happy, "You do make me happy," she said finally, "Being with you... in your world... makes me... happy..."
Donatello returned her smile, though his eyes were still damp and wobbly. His hand took light hold of hers's, held it lightly to his heart. "Thank you, Breech." He pressed his forehead to hers again, like he had twice before on April's roof. "You've managed to touch my heart. And I'll hold this moment dear to it, forever."
~~~
Harley: There we go...
- 15
- 16
- 17
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

The Long Walk