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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
- 16
- 17
The Long Walk
Co-Written by Harley Quinn hyenaholic and SonicFrank
~~~
Harley: Kind of two chapters in one now. Quite a long chapter too.
~~~
Chapter Seventeen: Wishful Thinking
Central Park was busier at night than durring the day, crowded with city folk, travellers, foreigners, dating couples, and of course, the homeless. This made it the ideal location for a meet-up with April, as the night cloaked one's body, as did the passer-bys who effortlessly ignored those around them. The lake was usually the quietest spot, though, and Donatello was able to spot April from a nearby tree, with his favourite treat in one hand, and her cell phone in the other. He landed stealthfuly beside her, fully hoping to startle his dear friend. "You're early." She didn't have to look at him to know that he was smiling.
"Yeah, well, I came here straight from work," April handed him the ice-cream, "I got your call. You wanted to talk about something, Donny?" she chuckled, "Now what could that be?"
He spoke before his first lick, grinning slightly at the answer he was conjuring up. "Two things. The outfit you wore during last night's News Report was way over-tacky. Master Splinter thought it was nice, and that explains enough. Second, I wanted to discuss how the Emancipation Proclamation relates to the rights of the Venus Fly Trap, and its right to be angry with being unnecessarily named after what's known for being an insect with a horrible taste for appetizers." She was the only friend he had who could keep up with him, and catch on to his bullshit. This was why they shared a unique sense of humour.
"Me wearing a tacky outfit? Don, how could you?" April laughed, "Well, okay, I guess it was a little tacky. I was kind of in a hurry last night, and Breech isn't exactly a fashion expert. So... what about the Emancipation Proclamation?"
He hadn't had Strawberry Ice Cream in a long time. The last time was... well, the last time he and April met up in Central Park, which was... Too long, now that he had the chance to think of it. "Oh, just that it's overrated, and Strawberry Ice Cream is oppositely underrated. Thanks a ton, April." The single scoop wouldn't last too long. He had a knack for eating ice cream quickly, while his brothers usually had to take their time, as eating it quickly would give them brain-freeze. Don's brain was impervious, however.
"Well, surely you didn't call me just to talk about Strawberry Ice Cream," April smiled. Don could be really adorable sometimes. He'd never know how cute he looked, eating ice-cream like a little kid, "Or maybe you did. I know how much you like that flavour. How's everything going back at the lair? I haven't really had a chance to ask you. All I got out of Breech was that she had an awesome training match with Mikey, and an even better conversation with you."
Donatello was half-way done with his treat already, and he spoke as softly as he was known for. "Admittedly, there's been a rise of tension in the lair. Breech has everyone on their toes except Mikey, but even he's a little uneasy about her. It's because he's afraid she'll hurt me, though he'll never say so." It was a real shame he had to cover himself up. To April, he seemed so normal when they spoke like this. "What about you? How's having a new room mate?"
April smiled again, "Well, this morning when I left for work, she was using a sewing machine to alter her hijab to be more manoeuvrable. She's not bad as a roomie - it's kind of like having Mikey and Raph rolled into one. I'm working on her getting a way to work from home, to chip in."
Don smiled at the thought. She was right, Breech was a whole lot like what a mixture of Raph and Mikey would be. Very angry, easily spiteful, and some very sarcastic jokes back and forth. In fact, the thought made him chuckle. "It's been said that cats are never pets. They're either room-mates, or they run the household. Breech proves the theory right every time she's in the lair. What about you and Mister Jones? I suspect you two are getting quite attached." His grin was almost sly. Almost.
April looked more unhappy at this, "You could say that," she told him, "It would be easier to get attached if he didn't go out every other night hunting for thugs, murderers and joyrides. I know he can handle himself well in a fight... but I worry about him all the same."
~~~
Now nearing Yonkers, Breech was holding onto Casey as they headed through the city. They were getting close to their destination and she was giving directions, "Make a right here!" she shouted to Casey, "It's the tallest apartment block on the street! Fourteen floors!"
Casey never turned. His definition for the term meant drifting violently, noisily, his tires leaving burn marks all across the street. Breech swore he almost scratched her leg on the pavement, he leaned so far. But he must have had practice at this whole 'riding' thing', because he was an expert. "Just tell me where duh prey is, Baby! We're goin' huntin'!"
"Top floor! First floor looks normal, for unexpected visitors, top floor is living quarters, for everybody who monitors the building and has a penchant for killing their neighbours slowly with drugs!" Breech shouted, "Everything else is pretty much a crack factory!"
Casey had a golf bag attached to the left side of the bike. Within it were his babies. He reached a hand down to it and wrapped his fingers around the end of his baseball bat, then cranked the gears to top-speed, eyes fixed on his first victim. He wasn't slowing down. He was only meters away from the building, and he wasn't slowing down...
"Hey, Casey! What're you pulling! Brake!" Breech shouted, "This is the place! Stop!"
But there was someone he recognized as a street thug. He'd beat on him before, and apparently, the guy hadn't learned his lesson. "Quiet, Woman," he growled, "I'm drivin'." He turned, skidding the bike to a drifting right, and bumped it onto the sidewalk. The dude never stood a chance, and got practically folded in half when the masked vigilante's wooden club met his target's stomach. He instantly turned back onto the street, and had to swerve the bike not once, not twice, but three times, in order to brake to a sudden stop.
"Right," Breech panted slightly. Well, at least she wasn't dizzy, "You can't get in by the roof. When I was thirteen I had to install a sophisticated security system known as 'barbed wire and broken glass' in all unconventional entrances and vents. The front door's got a burglar alarm, but that's simple enough to disable..." she got off the bike, "If we can keep anybody on the ground floor from alerting anybody at the top, it'll be simple enough." She drew her tessen, "But where the hell's the fun in that?"
Casey swung his bat over his shoulder. She couldn't see his face through his skull mask, but she could feel his grin through it. "Just tell me what tuh smash, Baby."
Breech thought about it, then smirked. It couldn't be seen through her own veil, but it was just as easy to read in her words, "Pretty much everybody in there is fair game. How about I just tell you what not to hit?"
He spun his arm, bat in hand. "Now where's duh fun in dat?" His voice signed that he was ready to sprint for the door.
"If we're gonna make noise, keep moving," Breech warned him, "So... Now!" They both ran for the entrance to the building, with Casey's bulk pretty much smashing the doors open.
~~~
The lake was a wide one, almost three whole miles around. The two were walking along the edge while they conversed. "See where my problem is, April? I promised her I would help her, but everything I do is risky because she's so tight about everything. Any little thing can make her snap..."
"Well, that's to be expected," April tried to placate Don, "Breech has been abused for years. A few days of comfort won't soothe the pain. It could take years. She might never heal. She's had nightmares every night since she started living at my apartment. But you can't take that to mean you're having no effect."
"I'm not having an effect." He stated matter-of-factly. "Emotionally, things are great between us. It's like every time I hold her, everything in the world goes right for us. But when I suggest making any progress as far as her situation, it's like I'm telling Raph to watch Family Matters. ...she's the exact opposite of Casey, come to think of it. Has he made a move on you yet?"
"You know, I can't tell," April admitted, "When he's not wearing that mask, he's like a great big teddy bear, kind of. When he puts it on, he's like a whole other person. I think he's trying to work himself up to doing something, but I don't know what. I just wish we could take the whole thing a couple of steps further - if he'd just grow up a bit."
Don smiled at this. She just had no idea. April was so smart when it came to science, women, and news. Socially, she was a genius! But when it came to men, specifically boulder-heads like Casey Jones, she was out-right clueless. "I think Casey's trying his best, but doesn't have any idea what he's trying to do. He's like a dog chasing a car. He knows what he wants, but wouldn't know what to do if he were to catch it. That's why you need to open the door for him to ride with you."
April grinned hopelessly, "What am I supposed to do? Tell him to jump into bed? Leap into his arms? Because he's not exactly getting the subtle hints. I like him a lot, but he can be such a dumbass sometimes. Still," she smiled normally again, "At least he and Breech seem to be getting along. I think she sees him as a kind of big brother. They should be able to keep each other out of trouble..."
~~~
Somebody's hand had been broken, when he dared point his pistol in Jones’ direction. The bones were shattered instantly by a merciless wooden bat. "Goongalah!" This was much easier to do when a Teenage Mutant Ninja Anything was watching his back.
Breech cracked a man under his jaw with a kick, and without even turning, rammed an elbow into another's gut hard enough to break a rib or two. She knew without a doubt she was a better fighter than any of the thugs in this joint, and she was going to make them regret getting her that training. She hadn't even needed to pull off the hijab yet. A man pointing a gun at Casey's back lost his thumb and trigger finger to a slash from her open tessen. When Breech fought for real, she made Raphael look like a puppy. It was pretty much identical to Casey's method.
Another man's wrist snapped in two when Casey hip-tossed him to hell, followed by the crack of his spine via baseball bat. "Man, you weren’t kiddin'!" He dashed into a body-roll when another man opened fire, and greeted this gesture with a swung bat to his jaw. "Deez guys are packin' heat!" He smashed the firearm to pieces.
"It's a drug factory!" Breech knocked a man's legs from under him and slammed his face into the wall, "What'd you expect?!" she knocked a man out with a club of the tessen to his head. There were two left now, and they were running for the stairs. She grabbed a chair and hurled it at one of the men, knocking him right off his feet.
Casey did the same with his bat, chucking it at one of their heads. He was much more agile than his body let on. So far, throughout this fight, he'd done more rolling and cartwheels than Mikey did during his spar with Breech. Jones was much less graceful, though, and not nearly as quick. He was more of a brawler than anything else, preferring Wrestling manoeuvres and straight-forward shots to any kind of technique. The bat hit its mark, and the victim found himself being introduced to the tile flooring via a German Suplex when the masked man caught up to him. "Well what are we waitin' foah? Let's go upstairs show 'em our favourite dance!" He picked his bat up, stained at the tip with the blood of several gun-wielding goons.
Breech trod on several groaning men as she headed for the stairs, kicking one in the head as she passed, "Now for your education on a drug factory," she said, returning to 'normal', as they headed on up. The next floor was empty, "Growing floors," she opened an apartment door for Casey's benefit, "They rip the building apart for more room, and the lighting needed, and the water system. It's a small outlay for the ability to have about five-hundred thousand dollars worth of cocaine growing in it at any one time. The refinery's in the basement, as well as a permanent stockpile of crack."
"We'll see what my bat has tuh say about dat permanent part." He really was a different person when he wore that mask. He was a forceful ghost of brutality, out for revenge on anyone who dared taint his town. He looked around, the mask depriving his face of emotion. "Just take me to duh next buncha jokers." Drugs were a big part of the reason he lost his dad. He had no mercy for dealers. "Deez clowns need tuh get their acts straight, cuz I ain't laughin'." And he was no joke. The next person he saw would get their bones crunched for sure.
"Not much to beat the shit out of on these floors, I'm afraid," Breech slipped out of the hijab and folded it into her belt, "They're pretty much empty at night. But we might run into a janitor or two, and they'll warn higher-ups if we don't take them out. Better move fast; I can hardly wait," she broke into a fast jog up the stairs.
"Duh Janitors can take duh night off. We're cleanin' dis place up my way." Following her lead, he had a little gift for the bozos they'd meet up with on the twelfth floor. Vigilante or not, this was justice done right. If only April could understand...
~~~
"Those two are like Raph and Leo. Even if they decide to fight side by side, it'd be against each other. They're both hot-heads. I'm sure glad they have one another to babysit, otherwise Casey might be smashing someone's skull right now." They were sitting on a bench, Don's feet on the seat while he sat above April on the backrest.
"Casey's sweet, but when he wears that mask, he scares me," April admitted, "And I'm never really sure whether the mask is him, or if the sweet, clumsy jock I care about is the mask..." she sighed, "And I don't know if he could put the mask down for me. But we all wear masks..."
"Guilty as charged." His smile gleamed over her. "I'm not so sure about Breech's mask. I can't figure out whether it'd be a good thing to take it off, or a big mistake. She could be a kitten or a vicious psychopath beneath it. It could go either way, and that bothers me..."
"I don't know her very well," April smiled, "But we've had a few good conversations already. She's had to wear a lot of masks in her life, and one of them was subservience. Now she doesn't wear that mask anymore... although she might be wearing another for your sake."
"Great. That's just what I need." Don sighed, and let his eyes wander to the sky above. New York was too polluted to allow star-gazing, but that didn't stop him from admiring the seemingly endless space above him. "Wouldn't it be easier if Casey was more like me, and Breech was more like you? Then we wouldn't have to deal with masks at all, because we've already seen each other's faces." He took his hat off, and placed it on her head - a playful gesture to express that he's kidding. The large headpiece was way too big for her, and immediately hung over her face, covering her eyes. "And there'd be a lot less broken china."
"Casey like you? Breech like me?" April smiled at the gesture and tilted the hat to look at Don, "You're half implying that Casey and Breech are better matched than you and Breech. But there's one thing I have worked out," she hoped to comfort him with her words, "Whatever's under Breech's masks; it despises suffering and needless cruelty. And that can't make her a bad person."
Don shuddered at the thought. "Breech and Casey? Gosh, just thinking about their midnight arguments makes me want to conjure up some handy tranquilizer darts. Talk about a destructive relationship..." He snuck a hand behind her head, and used a finger to tip the hat back over her face. "But Arnold Casey Jones is kind of head over heels for a certain News Reporter on Channel Two. It's a good thing we've both managed to keep our significant others' in our homes and off the local news..."
~~~
"Fourteenth floor," Breech held out a small hand to block Casey from rushing through the door, "Offices and other important rooms. These men will kill you. And they will kill you slowly if they get the chance. My room is on this floor," she shuddered, and listened at the door. There were raised voices on the other side, "And I think they know we're here."
He looked around for an alternate entrance. "Dare a window anywhere?"
"I left the window in my room open the last time I left," Breech informed him, "It's empty now. Sure as hell they won't expect anybody coming out of that room."
"Den what ah yuh waitin' for, Cat!? Get dem claws workin' and climb in through duh window while I kick this door down and give deez goons some Captain Crunch!"
Breech nodded and headed out of the small window on the landing. This action required the temporary dislocation of her shoulders, which she didn't find difficult, and climbing around the building, which was even easier. She made it into her room easily - the window hadn't been closed since last time. And why bother, with a window fourteen floors off ground level? She waited at the door for the sound of a door being kicked in.
The door got kicked open, all right, but even Casey Jones wasn't dumb enough to barge in and become someone's handy-handy bullet-sponge. He hid behind the nearby wall for cover. "Come on, Kitty Cat. Show me yuh moves..."
He was wise to not barge in. Several bullets were fired through the doorway, most at gut and kneecap level. Breech's owners were not nice people. Then the shooting was interrupted by another door being kicked open, "Hey Daddy!" Breech's voice was loud and clear, "Your little girl's come home to play!" More shots were being fired now, and not in Casey's direction.
As soon as he entered, he bat was swung, and someone’s head was in the way to greet it. "Goongalah!" He yelled, "And she brought her new boyfriend! Whaddya t'ink? Ain't I a Babe?!" He swung his bat in a spin, knocking several surrounding men off their feet as they aimed at him. Then he dove, and rolled behind a nearby couch for temporary cover.
"Take her alive! And kill the maniac with the bat!" a short, well-built man shouted before dodging into another room and locking the door.
Breech's fighting had become even more savage than before. She slammed one man's face into her knee. If done wrong, this was an excellent way to break a kneecap. In Breech's case, the man staggered away, and before he could raise his gun again, had taken the tessen to the head. Somebody coming up behind her was kicked in the face while she rammed a full set of claws into his right shoulder.
Somebody's chest got bored in when Breech's latest victim hit the ground, and another man, taller than Casey, took a good foot to his groin. Lucky for him, it wasn't the bat. "Yo, Cat!" He gripped his weapon with two hands, now, and broke it over another man's kneecap. The bat's wood shattered into splints. "When do I get tuh meet yuh Mom n' Pops!?" Somebody was under the impression that because we was 'unarmed', he had no 'arms', and that was the wrong answer. That same someone's teeth were all over the floor soon after. "Makin' a good impression's real important tuh me."
Breech slammed one man into another and kicked them both down the stairs, then cut a deep gash into another’s chest, catching his gun and pistol whipping him, "That thing right behind you," she pointed, "Is my 'brother'." Casey turned to see a man almost as tall as himself in the stairwell. He was blonde, and admittedly good-looking. This was spoilt by the fact that he was holding a gun and trying to decide which one of them to shoot, "And you won't touch him," she slammed a hand against Casey's broad chest, "He's MINE!” She leapt at the young man, and her entire weight slammed into his chest.
Casey smirked behind his mask, crossing his bulky arms over his chest. "Well ain't dis quite duh reunion? Breech, say what you want about yuh folks - dey know how tuh throw a bash!" Looking around the room, he began stomping on each man to make sure they were down while Breech took care of her personal business.
"Curtis, you miserable FUCK!" Breech screamed down at the man. She didn't knock him out though. She wanted to do other things first. She grabbed his gun hand and twisted. There was the crack of bones, as the gun dropped to the floor, "I learned a shitload from you!" she snarled, grabbing him by the hair, "But now I'm gonna give you an Advanced lesson in Pain!" She slammed his face into the wall, "How's it feel, to be the student?! What's the matter?! You don't like your lesson?!" she slammed a tessen into his chest, breaking a rib, "Is your old pet enough of a killer now?!"
"Yo Cat!" Casey yelled from the top of the stairs over her 'brother's agony cries. “When yuh done catchin' up wit' Curtis duh Beloved, save me a piece o' dat ass!" He heard her snap one of his bones, and cringed. His grin returned immediately after, though. "He was handsome!"
Breech wasn't listening, "You beat me!" she slammed Curtis' face into the wall repeatedly, "You insulted me! You starved me! You imprisoned me! You spat at me, you kicked me, you burned me!" She hissed in his ear, but loud enough for Casey to hear, "You underestimated me..." She released her hold on his hair, but before he could slump to the floor, gave him a roundhouse kick that sent him all the way down the corridor, and into Breech's old room, his quietly groaning body keeping the door open.
The man in the Iron Hockey Mask took this opportunity to walk up to her brother, and shake his hand. Taking soft hold of it, he shook lightly. "Yo. Duh name's Casey Jones. An' I'll be takin' over as yuh ex-pet's brother figure." A swift punch in the stomach, and a malevolent hip-toss to the floor later, Casey bent down to one knee. "Duh moral o' the story? Play nice, Bozo." A punch in the face later, Curtis was out cold. He stood up, and dusted his palms off.
They both looked into Breech's room. Casey had heard about child abuse on the news. But the T.V. only reported the children who were locked in attics for years. This was real life, and it was, somehow, much worse. The wallpaper was peeling and dirty. There was a thin, grubby carpet on the floor, with clean spots where something had been scrubbed out. A cheap desk with a cheap chair and a cheaper laptop were against the far wall, and a dirty mattress was in a corner. It was hard to imagine that anybody had lived there, but Breech had done so, for over seventeen years. She was shaking visibly just looking into the room, "Horrible, isn't it?"
Casey’s boots thumped as he walked up beside her. One quick glance at the room was enough to anger him to his boiling point, which was very, very hot. Lifting a gloved hand, he placed it on her shoulder. "Take one last look, Cat. Hold it tight, cuz yuh ain't ever seein' dis again, and yuh have to remember if yuh wanna make a difference." He gestured behind him, at the men lying uselessly on the floor. "Punks like doze guys, they come in numbers. Don't ever let anythin' like dis happen tuh anyone else, Cat. If yuh do, yuh just as bad as dem." Something about him, even behind the mask, was all-too understanding. He'd seen this kind of thing before. She could sense it.
Breech shook her head, "I don't intend to let these guys happen to anybody, ever again," she growled, slipping off the rucksack, "We're gonna burn this hole, and everything in it, to the ground." She produced a heavy bottle of gasoline, and started to splash it around, "After it’s alight, we'll run down, I'll rupture a gas main, and a good old Molotov Cocktail should deal with the rest of it."
Casey grinned. "Now yuh talkin' my accent, Cat!" Watching her perform for a moment, he walked over to the nearest body - the one he broke his bat over - and began to lift him by his arm. "Just help me get deez useless bags o' puke outside. Den we'll burn dis place down, an' all the drugs wit' it!"
"What do you mean, get them outside?" Breech asked, looking up suddenly, "Every one of these bastards has killed somebody, and half of them have hit me at one point in my life. They give free samples to kids and shoot kneecaps for loan sharks! Let 'em burn!"
~~~
Don was now sitting beside April on the bench, one leg bent sideways over the other. "Breech sure seems intent on keeping that promise. I'm really glad I had her make it, or she'd probably do something we'd all find unforgivable. Then I'd have to let her go..." His world would be lonely, cold, and unfairly cruel again, if that were to happen..
"She intends to keep it," April said. She wasn't certain, but she wanted to comfort Don, "But she's got a lot of reasons to break it, and only you as a reason to keep it. You mean a lot to her."
His face actually sulked a bit when this was brought to his attention. "I sure hope so... And I'd bet Casey's influence would be no help."
~~~
"What's duh matter wit you, Cat!?" He had stomped up to her at some point, and was facing her dead-on. "If I'd known yuh was a psycho, I'd've done this gig myself!"
"And you'd be dead!" Breech shouted, "These people are sadistic murdering bastards! They deserve to die!" She splashed more gasoline in her old room, "More than half of them have hit me or worse! All of them knew I existed and did nothing! This whole world would be cleaner without them!"
His left hand clasped his mask, and pushed it up over his head, "Deez worms don't deserve duh bliss of death! They should be locked up! It's duh right thing tuh do, and it ain't your place tuh decide who lives an' who dies!" He was willing to stand up to her anger, and she saw that fact in the fire of his blue eyes.
"Yeah, prison!" Breech sneered, "Where they get five to ten years, or less, or not at all because they can afford lawyers AND the money to buy their way out! Then they're out and doing things like this to kids and people and destroying lives!"
Casey had expected to have a good time tonight, not stand around arguing with his ‘date’, "Oh, so yoah a prophet now, is dat it!? People change, Cat! But they need duh chance tuh make duh choice!" He pointed at her, "Just last week, you was as bad as dem, killin' people, and slavery ain't no excuse! Don set'chuh free, an' he gave you a choice! You made it, deez guys can make it too!"
"Yeah, right!" Breech kicked one of them, "These guys actually enjoy hurting people. They do it for FUN. Why should I pay any attention to you, anyway?!"
"Yeah, well it looks tuh me like you’re havin' fun hurtin' 'em yuhself right now." Large, bulking arms crossed over his chest. "And unless yuh think you can carry me outta here, you're gonna haftuh burn me, too. And I don't plan on layin' down so easy, yuh whacked-out mad kitten!"
"Even you're not dumb enough to stay up here and burn with these... these monsters," Breech growled, "Why do you even care? Five minutes ago you were busting skulls and cracking bones, and doing a bit of preliminary beating to death!"
"Look around, Cat! I may've broken a few bones, but nuttin' a few months in a cast won't unfuck!" He gestured to the bodies with extended hands, his voice growing louder. "It's what heroes do, Cat! Dey stop duh bad guys, put 'um in jail, and call it a night! They don't kill! You do dat, yuh just as bad as the guys yuh bustin'." Casey was much taller than her. He had to get down on one knee to reach her eye-level, and he did. "Look, Breech. I know where yuh comin' from. A part of me even agrees!" His blue eyes were searing with hidden pain. "But yuh can't do this. I learned my lesson duh hard way. Dis right heah's exactly why Donny-Boy made yuh promise not tuh kill. He knew yuh'd wanna do somethin' like this!"
~~~
"Casey's... unreliable," April continued, "That's his problem. He seems to think every problem can be solved with a blow to the head. He's not exactly the best negotiator. Breech seems to be a lot more of a rational thinker, Don. She may not be as smart as you, but I bet she could teach Casey to think straight."
"When it comes to handling glassware, unreliable is an understatement. But I don't think you're giving your current love interest enough credit." Don rubbed his chin as he spoke. "He tends to keep Raph on the smooth end of his temper, and I think Breech's is something you're also taking lightly.."
"What? Her temper?" April thought about it. Breech hadn't lost her temper around her, at least, "Like I said, she seems to be a logical thinker. You know, Casey hasn't even asked me out on a date yet?"
This made him laugh softly, "Are you sure? I think he has, but you're too straight-forward to pick up his subliminal messages." He lifted a knee, and placed his foot on the bench. "And I'm afraid that every time I see him trying, you always shoot him down with some kind of insult."
"Subliminal messages?" April laughed at this, "When was Casey ever subtle?" April was smart enough to notice subtlety, but maybe it was because she expected Casey to be loud and brash, that she wasn't picking up his more gentle signals.
"Hey, I may be smart and rational, but that doesn't change me from being male." He commented with a smile. "Every time I see the two of you bickering at each other, Casey's pretty much shouting out how madly in love with you he is. Do you really think someone as 'loud and brash' as you say he is, would stay around you for this long if there wasn't some form of emotional and/or hormonal atrraction involved?"
April shrugged, "I know he cares about me. And I definitely care about him. But when we're yelling at each other over stupid things like glassware, and big things like him going out every other night to bust skulls, how am I supposed to respond in a way that's going to make things move on?"
"I suppose a date would help with that, wouldn't it?" He placed his chin upon his knee. "I'm afraid Casey might actually be afraid of you, April. He can't bring himself to straight-forwardly ask you out on a date, because he's so deathly afraid of rejection. Any other woman, he'd get over. But you? You're special to him. And I can see why."
"Geez..." April looked at Don, "Well you're the nearest expert on men here," she told him, "How am I supposed to get him to be less scared of making a move? I mean, Breech is like a tiger emotionally, and she's doing well with you, whatever you may think of her."
"By giving him less reason to be." He started. "See, Casey's very two-dimensional. And that's a good thing, it might be something you secretly like about him. He knows what's fun and what isn't. I bet, a date with Casey would be very invigorating."
~~~
Breech looked at Casey. He was now looking down at her, his expression slightly pleading. She gritted her teeth and closed her eyes. A few days she had been planning this little excursion to test how good she was at not killing people. And now she was standing here, planning to burn everybody in this building to death, "I... didn't mean it to turn out like this," she said finally.
"Don't kill me..." a semi-conscious goon pleaded.
"Shut your ass the hell up!" Breech kicked him into a wall, then turned back to Casey, "Why does the only thing you're right about have to be so goddamn important?"
Casey ignored her comment and placed both his hands on her shoulders. "Listen. If yuh go on and do this, you’ll be the one explainin’ it to Donny. And he won't ever trust you again. Yuh might as well burn him alive, too..."
"Aw..." Breech grimaced, knowing that Casey was right. It was so hard to overcome her anger though... "Okay... But you've got to help me drag these goons outside before we torch this place. I'm not doing it by myself." She picked up two of them by their ankles and started to drag them down the stairs, their heads bumping on every step, "Man, April is gonna have one helluva story tomorrow."
Casey stood up, and shook his head. "Hey, don't take all the credit. Gettin' ‘em outta here was my idea in duh first place!" His grin was back, and so was his brawn. He lifted two of them over his shoulders, and began down the stairs as well. "
"It would have been a bigger story with twenty dead gang members," Breech commented dryly. Somehow she felt a lot better for not killing these miserable fucks though, "And hey, don't blame me if they're back dealing on the streets in six months."
"Just think. If dey are, we get tuh bust 'um up all over again."His grin emanated through that mask heavier now than ever before. "See? Dis whole 'good guy' thing ain't so bad. No pun intended."
"Well now we've got about five trips up and down fourteen flights of stairs to make," Breech replied, "Six, for setting the top floor on fire before rupturing the gas in the basement. All the coke growing in this building will burn very well."
"Tuh think. We’re gonna smoke ten tons o' coke in one shot. Dat's gotta be a record, 'least fuh New York!"
~~~
"I'm just glad she wasn't addicted to any kind of drug. Can you imagine if she'd grown up being forced to shoot up? The thought terrifies me." And it was true, he'd have a whole other case on his shoulders if Breech also had an addiction...
"It is one excellent method of control," April agreed, "She wouldn't be able to leave. Crack Cocaine is incredibly addictive - the withdrawal symptoms can be fatal. But I guess they didn't want a drug addicted killer. So they used another form of control - fear. And as for addictions, there are a lot of things you can be addicted to. And you don't even know you're addicted until you have to go without it."
Don smiled. "Does that mean I'm addicted to you, Ms. O'Neal? Because I sure did miss you over the past few months."
"Well, that depends on your withdrawal symptoms," April laughed, "Cold sweats, hallucinations, and depression?"
He shook his head, grinning a bit. "So it's settled then, right? You're going to keep things clean so you can catch his implications, and not cover him in smoke?"
~~~
"Right," Breech looked at the thirty or so unconscious men in the lobby of the first floor, "Final trip up, set the top floor on fire. We come back down here, enter the basement and break the gas supply. Then we drag these creeps outside while the place fills up. I'll finish the job with my favourite Russian drink, and we find a nice rooftop to watch the bonfire."
Casey smirked behind his mask, and pulled it up over his head to reveal it. "I like you, Cat. You an' me." Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a pack of matches, and tosses them in her direction. "We make a good match. Now... yuh sure all dis coke burnin' ain't gonna have no bad effects?"
"Don't worry about it," Breech replied, "It's only refined cocaine that's seriously addictive. Coca leaves aren't a problem. A few people who get a whiff might feel a bit stimulated and happy for a bit, but otherwise they’ll be fine. Hell, I'm gonna be stimulated and happy after we torch this hole. "
Casey leaned against the front door, placing both hands in his pockets. "Someone's gotta babysit all deez crybabies." He gestured to all of the men, who were still alive, "You go play wit' fire upstairs, and have fun."
Breech headed to the top floor again. It was already soaked with gasoline, and she made sure to remain in the stairwell. There wouldn't be any huge explosion, but there was no way they'd be able to return to this place again. She lit a match, "Fire," she said calmly, lighting a rag, "The great cleanser." She tossed the burning rag into the hallway, and didn't wait to watch the results, but raced down the stairwell, the heat already at her back.
~~~
"Say April. What do you think Breech wants? You know. From me?" Don asked, almost out of nowhere. That hadn’t kept her from seeing the question coming, though.
"It's hard to say," she looked thoughtful, "You may have saved her from her old family, but she's still got locks and bars in her head. Some of them keep her safe, and others still hold her prisoner. In her circumstances, what she really wants... is to be set free. You might not like what's released, but she'll love you forever for it."
He buried his head in his hands, sighing in a frustrated manner. "All those men on T.V. aren't exaggerating in the least when they say that women are the most complicated species on the planet. It'd take decades of scientific research and an unlimited supply of funding to figure them out."
"Well one problem women have with guys is that you're too simple," April smiled, and patted Don on the shoulder, putting his hat back on him, "There's a lock in Breech's head, and it's very likely that you're the key."
It didn't help much, but somehow, her answer made his heart feel a bit easier. "Michelangelo says you should visit the lair sometime soon. Something about your becoming more of a 'guest star' as of late."
"Hey, how about I come visit tomorrow when Breech comes down for her visit?" April suggested, "She's mentioned to me that it feels strange going out in daylight on her own."
"Sure. If you don't mind standing around watching four mutant turtles and a cat perform climactic stunts that are only normally seen in bad Kung-Fu movies with either subtitles or horrible voice-overs." He tucked his forehead into his hat, a clear sign that it was almost time to go.
"Maybe a bit later on, then?" April paused, "You're right; I've been pushing Casey away too much lately. No wonder he's worried about rejection... But Donny, I really hope this relationship works out between you and Breech. For both your sakes. She needs you." She put her hand on his shoulder.
He smiled, and returned the gesture. "I could say the same for Casey. He needs you. You're his... fire. He wants to embrace you, but he's afraid you'll burn him."
~~~
Both Casey and Breech were in the basement now. And she was right, it really did look like a factory down there. She severed a large gas pipe with her tessen, "While we're dragging those creeps outside, the first floor will be filling up with gas," one of Breech's hobbies involved explaining the obvious, "Then we blow the building back to hell."
"Yeah yeah, enough explainin', Cat. We need tuh get out before duh cops get here an' confiscate my bike!" Not to mention give him four years in prison for causing arsenal damage. "I'm too pretty fuh prison. You'll be all right, though."
"What, ‘cus you can't imprison somebody who doesn't exist?" Breech smirked as they started dragging goons out of the building, "Guess I'll just wind up back on somebody's lab table then." She didn't pause in her dragging of goons, but looked at Casey, "Hey, what you said about being my new brother figure? You meant that, right?" she checked.
His face was covered by a lopsided body over his shoulders. "What yuh think?" He kicked the front door open, tossed the body onto the pavement, and stepped back inside for the next. "Just don't get any ideas. I ain't readin' no bedtime stories. And I ain't helpin' yuh with yuh homework." He grinned to her as he leaned over to pick up the next scumbag, and extended a closed fist to her mid-process. "Yuh darn right I did. Yuh sure you prefer me over Curtis? He had a nice smile."
Breech picked up a goon's leg in her left hand, and punched Casey's fist with a grin, "I was just checking. ‘Cus I could do with a brother who doesn't bust up my face for not killing a rival slowly enough."
"Maybe not, but scratch my bike, and yuh gettin' pounded. Count on it." Two more men were on his shoulders, now. He was handy. Tall, strong, a hell of a fighter, and best of all, he could drive. He dropped the two men, not caring much for their safe landing, "Yuh just lucky yuh ain't a dude, otherwise yuh'd be fair game tuh wrestle with, Cat. But I gotta keep my hands off yuh, cuz you’re a girl." He knew that would irk her, if just a bit.
"Woman," Breech corrected on reflex, and looked down at the men. The lobby was empty, but it smelt of gas. She poured another bottle of gasoline all over the carpet in the entrance, "And who says you'd win any wrestling match?" she paused, looking up at Casey again, "Well, okay, you probably would. But you'd sure wish you hadn't started it!" she grinned and they retreated a bit while she mixed up a crude Molotov, "Ready to blow this joint?"
"Not yet, I ain't." He patted her - quite insultingly, on her head, and turned for his bike. "My girl's gotta be a part of the action. Yuh think she carried us all duh way down here tuh sit on the sidewalk?" Seeing as she wasn't following, she must not have been following his reference. "Trust me. Dis'll be a real blast."
Breech would have punched Casey for the patronising action, if she hadn't been curious, "What did you bring to the party that I didn't?" she asked, looking over his shoulder.
Casey removed his beat-up golf bag, and rested it on the seat, "Lemme ask yuh somethin’, Cat." Digging into bottom, beyond the lengths of the various beating sticks, he produced three small, black circles. "Yuh evuh popped anyone's cherry before? It's tight." His grin gleamed through the night's darkness.
"What are you-" Breech stopped, "Are those cherry bombs?" she asked him, "Hey, isn't it illegal to produce, sell or possess these things?" she snickered, showing sharp teeth. Now that they were back in the street, she pulled her hijab and veil back on.
He snickered at her comment, teeth equally exposed. "Well what can I say? I'm a rebel. I only got ten o' deez, so make yuh throws count." Reattatching the bag to the side of his Harley, he remounted, and turned the ignition. The bike flared with vivid life. "You comin', Toots?"
"Sure," Breech climbed on the back of the bike, "I guess I won't be needing this," she hurled the unlit Molotov through one of the lower apartment windows. Why waste good gasoline, after all?
"Five times 'round duh block. One toss each round. Got it?" He revved the engine, the vehicle almost cackling in response.
"Oh, I've got very good aim," Breech smirked. The top floor looked well alight by now, "Let's roll. Or blow this joint. Whichever you prefer; I'm feeling happy and stimulated already, and the coke's not even burning yet."
"Wait 'til yuh hear the explosions. Yuh gonna stain duh bike seat." Pulling his mask back over his face, he flipped the kickstand up with his foot, and took off past the building in target. His bike was loud, cheering in their victory...
~~~
April paused for thought, "Don... are you sure Breech makes you happy? I know she wants to make you happy, but does she?"
"Of course she does!" His voice rose significantly. Excitedly. "Happy isn't the word, April! Every time she's around, every time I look at her, it's like my eyes get hyper. I keep this pathetically plushy smile on whenever she's around me. My heartbeat's a marching band when it comes to her. She makes my world seem and feel pretty, and I want to show her everything." That's when he paused. "But I can't... she's already showing signs of irritation..."
"You can still show her everything," April tried to explain, "She told me that she badly wants to see everything, but it's so different to what she expected. I don't think she's angry at you. I think she's more angry at herself."
"I dunno..." He had trouble explaining this. It was all based on his perception, which could very easily be wrong. Still, theories and Donatello have gone hand-in-hand for a long time now. One could say he had experience with hunches. "It's like she's overwhelmed all the time, and has no interest in anything aside from her own self-being. If she and I were to go out on a date, for example, I'd love to take her to see an exhibit. But I don't think she'd enjoy seeing old dinosaur bones, which we both know fascinates me to an extreme..."
"Right now, Breech's experience of the world is pretty much limited to what she's found out on the internet," April smiled, "Oh, and what she's learnt from drug dealers and killers. Up until you, her life consisted of fighting and killing. Donny, you have NO idea how much you have to teach her. She's fascinated simply by the fact that you're not an evil bastard who hits her for fun. Take her out. See what you can teach her about the world. And heal her pain."
His hat was off again, on his lap. "I know. I'm just afraid I'll scare her off. You know, by knowing too much. By being a dork..."
April laughed, "You know, Breech is kind of like a fortune cookie. She's always cracking those clever lines at you about things, right? Well crack open the shell, and you'll find a lot of wisdom inside."
"April. That was a horrible simile." He was honest, and he was smiling. "But I see your point, and the advice was phenomenal. Maybe you should take your own advice in regards to Arnold. His life is filled with nothing but fighting and... well, more fighting."
"I will," April smiled, "Just as long as you take my advice about Breech."
~~~
Its gears were turned all the way, and its tires burned like the building they stalked. Its driver would have to replace them soon, otherwise, performance levels will descend. Reaching into his bag, Casey Jones took hold of his last cherry bomb, and gripped it accordingly for good tossing. "One moah, baby! One moah big boom!"
Not one of the cherry bombs had missed the apartment block. It was well ablaze, and in the distance a siren wailed - probably a fire engine - though it could never save the building now. She gripped Casey's shoulder tightly, as they tossed both cherry bombs into the building. By now the roar of the flames rivalled the small explosions. Some people - but not many - were watching the building burn - watching them blow it down. Fortunately they weren't doing anything about it.
Rather than carry on down the road, Casey skid his bike to a stop before the building, his front tire facing directly toward the front door. The Harley below them bellowed impatiently. "Take a good look, Cat. She won't be deah tomorruh."
Breech watched the blaze for several seconds, her eyes moistening with tears, "It's like watching my old life burn down," she managed, her voice choking slightly, "God, I haven't felt this way since... ever."
His eyes hardened, and his throat also stuck. Images of his father's market, the one he'd worked for all his life, burning to the ground at the hands of the Purple Dragons scorched through him like a soda can full of gun powder. Somehow, though, he doubted she shared the same feeling. So he stood quiet, and let her take this in on her own. Maybe burning her old life down would be good for her. It hadn’t been for him.
Breech gave a shudder of sheer emotion as the fire engine arrived. Tears were dampening her face, though what emotion brought them on, she wasn't certain. Some of the goons who had been dumped in front of the building were trying to crawl away from the heat, and the firemen were pulling them further away. Chances were an ambulance was on the way. Possibly the police too, in which case it wouldn't be wise to stick around, even if all concentration right now was on the fire, "Let's roll on out," she said simply, after a couple of minutes.
But he was frozen. For a few moments, at least. His father had worked so hard to provide for him, his mother, and the rest of the family outside the house. He had all his hopes in that store, and the Purple Dragons stole it from him, and laughed while they did it. Closing his eyes, just for a moment, he pulled his mask back down, and turned the front wheel in the road's direction, opposite the sirens. "You wuh right, Cat." He pulled on the gears, and took off, the bike humming loudly. "We shoulduh left doze slimeballs inside!"
~~~
Harley: Don't forget to review!
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The Long Walk