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The Long Walk	By : Breech_Loader Category: Comics > Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles Views: 2640 -:- 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
- 5
- 6
- 7
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The Long Walk

Co-Written by Harley Quinn hyenaholic and SonicFrank

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Harley: I suspect most of you thought in this chapter Leo would meet Breech for the first time. WRONG! But hey, you like the way SF plays Casey so it’s no big deal. There's a lot of that Brooklyn accent in here but not as much as he put in before...

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Chapter Six: What A Gender Wants

Currently, the only light in April's apartment came from the television, recently rewired by Don for Satellite TV. Casey was watching a boxing match. Nobody had burst through the door in an ass-kicking rage. Breech hadn't pulled any evil attempt to kill him.. And despite her claims to not sleep well, she had fallen asleep, spread out on the couch, with little trouble, despite the sound of the television. She didn't so much snore, as make a quiet sort of purring noise, which he had quickly gotten used to. About ten minutes ago though, she had started twitching and muttering quietly, and it seemed to be getting worse.

"Aw, c'mon! Yuh lettin' 'im get right by ya! Jab 'im, man! Jab 'im!" He watched as his chosen fighter failed to meet his demands. "Ugh, yuh doin' it all wrong!" ...He sat down for the first time since the round started. If he weren't too busy working on fighting crime, he'd probably be a professional boxer himself. The cat-girl's purring hadn't phased him one bit, but she was starting to get all fidgety, and that might pose a problem.

Several minutes passed on, and the six-foot man was far too engaged in the match to concern himself with some restless mutant. He didn’t even notice she’d ceased to purr. At least, right up until the moment Breech sat up like a jack-in-the-box, with a gasp almost sharp enough to be a scream. Cats sweated through their paws, and her hands were soaking with it as she clutched her waistline, all her claws out as she glanced frantically around, for several seconds not certain of where she was.

Casey Jones wasn't afraid of anyone, or anything. Ironically, however, he was easily startled, and twisted his body in an epic scare to look at the awakened feline, "WOAH! What’s happenin'-" He blinked, and composed himself, " 'ey. Whiskers! You havin' a wet dream uh' somethin'?"

"What... where... who..." Breech gasped out for several seconds, breathing hard. She had taken off her hijab to go to sleep and it was easy to see how hard she was breathing. Fortunately it was a good sports bra, and her chest wasn't heaving at all. She looked around. No, this wasn't her room... her room was smaller, and emptier, and smelt different. She looked at Casey, then at the boxing match on the television, her memory clicking back into place, "Not real... not real... just the TV..."

Casey Jones knew that look. He wasn't sure what to think of this newcomer, but he knew what to think of that look. He'd worn it before on his own masculine, pretty-boy complexion. He could insult her while she was aware, he'd have no problem with that. But right now, when she was vulnerable, scared and confused, he couldn't bring himself to do anything short of comforting her. " 'ey... Breech, right?" He took a step toward the couch, and offered her a hand, clad in a fingerless, leather glove, "C'mon. Gimme yuh hand. It's okay. Yuh safe..."

"Yeah... safe..." Breech swung her legs off the couch. Her claws slid back and she took Casey's hand, "Thanks... buddy..." she said, not sure what to do with it.

His hand was a strong one, but he held hers gently. "I'm watchin' duh fight. Title's on duh line. Stay up and watch it wit' me, will yuh? It always helped me when I had bad dreams." He sat beside her now, and spread his arms out on the backrest. "Ain't lookin' good fuh duh champ, though. He's takin' a poundin' from dis guy. From Memphis, I t'ink."

"I always watched whatever somebody else wanted to watch," Breech commented, "But nobody ever asked me if I wanted to..." she shrugged, "I doubt I'll get back to sleep tonight, anyway. My own- my ‘family’ were always watching the news. Or documentaries. Politics and stuff. It was educating... but it got boring."

The fight wasn't in progress, but there was commentating going on, which the large man was keenly interested in. Comparing records, sizes, and techniques, the commentators argued back and forth over who the victor would be. Only when this cut to a commercial break did Casey speak again. "I think Don has duh hots for yuh. You gonna be his gal?" He asked with a smirk, though a sincere one.

"Well, he has been pretty transparent about how he's feeling," Breech replied, "To be absolutely honest, Casey... I just want to hold him and never let go. But he's got allergies, and I can't just... well, I don't want to aggravate them. And all that," she looked up again. "I think April has the hots for you. You gonna be her man?"

She got him there. But he had to be honest. "Eventually. I'm just as obvious as Donny is, but tuh tell yuh duh truth, April's bein' dumb about duh whole thing. If she wuz more honest wit huh feelin's, I'd already be huh man. But fuh some reason, she keeps pushin' me away an' stuff. Like I'm doin' somethin' wrong."

Breech grinned at this, "You've got to learn to read between the lines, Casey," she said, "You've got to work out what April really needs, and then you've got to be the one who can give her it. She's pushing you away because, even though she cares about you, she doesn't know if you can give her what she needs."

"Not give huh what she needs!? See, you ain't been here long enough tuh see how much I do fuh dat girl. Who do yuh think helped huh organize dis apartment? Who do yuh think does all duh labour? Not Santa Claus. I do everythin' a man's supposed tuh do. I t'ink, it's cuz she thinks I'm dumb. An' she'd be right, if she did... But see, dat's why I'm such a big hunk. If I were smart, I'd use my head and make money. Since I'm dumb, I use my body. Make sense?"

"I don't know April very well just yet, Casey," Breech admitted, "But I am a female. I'm also a freak. My own- my 'family' kept me safe from people who would have cut me up and put me on show in circuses. But if that was all I wanted... why do you think I left?"

"I know why yuh left." He placed a playful, teasing, heavy hand on her head, and ruffled her fur. "Cuz yuh fallin' fuh duh green guy's charms. Admit it. He's got a nice shell."

Breech's ears turned pink, "Yeah," she admitted, "That too," she thought, trying to phrase it in 'Casey' words, and grabbed the remote, changing channels until she found one on baseball, "Look at those guys," she told him, "They're playing baseball, and they want to score a good old home run, right? And when they hit one, they get some cheering and shit from the crowd. But the best ones, the ones who really get the cheers and wind up on papers and get real attention, are the ones who are willing to play the entire season, all the way to the finals, and when they do, they'll be on the team when it wins the baseball championships."

He crossed his arms, now. "Your point better be good. First rule about a normal household, Lady. NEVUH change a man's channel, especially when he's watchin' duh biggest fight o' duh yeeah!"

Breech whacked him over the head with the remote, "You want to win the championship, Casey? You wanna hit the winning home run, and get the trophy? Then you've gotta be willing to play all the way to the end of the season."

"Ow! Hey!" Instinctively and immediately, he lunged onto her, arms out for the remote. Depending on how fast she moved, and her intentions when she did so, she'd either have been pinned down, or playing tug'o'war for it. "Wait 'til YOU go three years without gettin' anywhere wit’ Donny! I'm gonna hit YOU ovuh duh head with duh keyboard!"

"Geez, you can't even understand metaphors with sports lingo? Fine. I like you, so I'll try again," Breech jumped up, dodging him easily and changing the channel back to boxing, "Those guys aren't fighting to win a match. They're fighting to win a championship. That'll take determination. Stamina. Endurance."

His face was on the armrest from his lunge. "Look, I get duh picture, Lady!" Lifting himself back to a seated position, his back faced the armrest, and his chest at her. "But I can't hit any home runs if duh pitcher ain't throwin' any balls!" His attention's fully on her, now. Something about this cat girl seemed... oddly familiar to him. Talking, arguing and lunging at her felt almost natural. "Besides, why's duh dude gotta do all duh work!? Just once, I'd like tuh see duh woman pull a duh right moves! An' April's bein' damn stale nowadays."

"What is it you can give her that nobody else in the whole world can, Casey?" Breech asked him, sitting down again and tossing the remote to him, "Because whatever it is, she's been waiting three years for it."

“Yuh crazy, Cat! I can give huh me. Myself. Ahnold Casey Jones." The two were fully engaged in conversation.. An argumentative one, but somehow also a thoughtful debate. "I ain't too smart, and breakin' stuff comes wit' my territory, but I've already shown huh how much I care. She knows I'm a good man, wit' good values, an' dat I'll treat huh right. I always have! She wants tuh play Hard Tuh Get, she can play it wit' some other goon. Not dis guy."

Breech shook her head, smirking, "You wanna know a secret about women, Casey?" she asked him, leaning forward conspiratorially, "It's a real big secret. It's THE secret. It's how you can get any woman in the world. Including April."

Casey backed up, hands raised and face to the side. "I don't wanna here nuttin' about no clitoris. Look, I've tried, okay? My hands just ain't gentle enough."

"Dumbass testosterone based lifeforms..." Breech chuckled, "You think we're so fucking complicated, when all you do is make it complicated..."

"WE make t'ings complicated!? You’re duh ones who like all dat romance stuff. Duh flowers, duh fancy restaurants, duh long list of rules. We can't just call it sex, it's gotta be ' makin' love ', and dere's gotta be like two hours a foreplay, instead o' just goin' fuh duh grand slam. I dunno wat yuh taukin' about, Kitty, cuz men ah simple. Somethin's wrong wit a girl who t'inks men are complicated. We all want duh obvious."

"Wrong," Breech told him, "We all want something different, Casey. Do you know what that is?"

"If yuh all want somethin' different, how can you even know?" He grabbed the remote now, and lowered the volume on the TV.

"The secret is that you ask her, Casey," Breech leant back, "Ask her what she wants. And she'll tell you," she raised an eyebrow, "It really is that simple."

He turned away at her statement, his expression ridiculing it. "Pfft, yeah, sure. Why don't I just buy huh a silver boot while I'm at it? I'm gonna need a butt-plate, too."

"Then don't ask her," Breech replied, "Man, I'll be in trouble with female species all over the world. Men aren't supposed to get told the secret. They're supposed to work it out for themselves."

"And how exactly do yuh know dis? It ain't like yuh had much romance in yoah time, 'less yuh owners bought yuh in a pair."

"’Cus human or not, it's still oestrogen flowing in these genitals. I know all about how women feel. Less about guys. ‘Part from the fact they’re all jackasses," Breech grinned, then sighed, "You think anybody ever gave a fuck what I wanted? No. Nobody 'til Don."

Casey was somehow taken aback by this, even though he was the one who brought it up. "...so what ah you, anyway? Did your owners find yuh in a toxic litter box or some'tin?"

“They never told me," Breech rubbed her head, "I think... I think I used to be a real cat. I remember chasing something. Only I didn't do very well... because I fell... and then I... don't know. I managed to get out, somehow... and then everything was changing. I'm not really sure. It's fuzzy. The first thing I remember really clearly... is waking up on somebody's doorstep and... feeling like it was the first time I'd ever really been awake."

Casey blinked, and raised an eyebrow. But, he didn't feel sorry for her. Not one bit. Maybe that was a good thing. "Jeez. Dat's a rough way tuh start. Good t'ing ya finally landed on yuh feet tonight, eh? Yuh on solid ground now. Don'll take care uh yuh. He’s a first class nerd, but his heart's in duh right place, y'know?"

"Yeah... I'm sure hoping so..." Breech sighed "Oh, and Casey?" Breech looked up, "Quit calling me 'cat', okay? It's not my name. I don't call you 'human', do I?"

"How 'bout if I spell it widda K?" He asked with a slightly smug smirk.

"Still not my name," Breech replied, "I'm Breech. Not 'cat'. Not 'lady'. Not 'freak'. Use my name. Blockhead."

"Gosh, yuh so sensitive. An' here I thought we was formin' a bond." He knew they were. Whether she admitted it or not. He was actually starting to like her. "Don better not mess dis one up. Otherwise I'll scrape 'Moron' on his shell."

"Hey, he's a whole lot smarter than you are," Breech smiled. She liked Casey. Despite the fact that he was a blockhead, loud-mouthed, and irritating. Perhaps because of those reasons.. But those were reasons to be friends. She wondered what the hell it was April saw in him if she wanted it to get any further.

"I'm smart enough tuh know what I want. An' I wanna be lyin' right next tuh Miss O'Neil right now. She's just too dumb tuh invite me in dere with huh." He stretched his arms out over his head, and yawned. Then, as if filled with a sudden lapse of energy, he shot up off the couch, and bolted for the kitchen. "Thirsty. Require milk!"

"Hey, you got milk?" Breech jumped up, "You got any fish?"

"And for duh record, hate it all yuh like. I'm callin' yuh Cat." She could hear him from the kitchen - the place was tiny. "It's duh only way I can help besides bashin' yuh owners’ heads in." He returned with two mugs, and offered one to her. Steam swirled above it. "No fish. April hates 'em. But I do have some head medicine, if yuh know wut I mean." Taking a seat, the couch whined under his weight. "My ol' man used tuh call me Blockhead. Dummy. Retard. It use' tuh bother me, but I learned tuh let go o' duh past. Name-call-wise, y'know?"

"Yeah... names hurt a lot more than people give 'em credit..." Breech muttered, lapping at the milk. Casey was surprised that she didn't say some crap about how it was just names, and how he should have ignored it, "I got used to the punches. Never could turn off the part of my brain that agreed with 'em, though... Freak. Cat. Animal. Feels kinda like you're being stamped on..."

"I know how yuh feel. I felt duh same way. But then I learned somethin', when I met April and duh turtles." His milk had chocolate in it. She could smell it. He took a sip. "Wanna know what dat is?"

"Don't tell me. Just words? Not true?" Breech sneered down at the mug she was holding, her expression angry, and her tail twitching.

"Nope. In fact, I learned dat words mean everythin’. But it's not just people like you an' me who get hurt by 'em. People, dey call each other freaks, animals. Blockheads. All duh time. So, when yuh t'ink about it real good, you’re not bein' treated any different from anyone else, in dat sense. Dat's why I learned not tuh take it personal."

Breech looked up again, and then relaxed a little, "Yeah, life's a bitch, and people are bastards. The world's a mess. And it's not because of the people who say yes. It's because of all those motherfucking assholes who just won't say no...” she continued, “But then there's people like you, and April, and Donny, and his brothers and his father, and you guys stand up and you say, no, life shouldn't be this way, and I'm gonna damn well do something about it."

He appreciated the compliment, but he wasn't flattered just yet. "Look, all I'm sayin' is, people call people freaks all duh time. If yuh ever wanna get better, ya can't let it bother yuh, Cat. Trust me. I know..." He folded his hands now, and appeared to be deep in thought. "Yuh really t'ink she'd marry me, if I just asked..?"

Breech shrugged, "I don't know for sure. Don't know her well enough. Or you, for that matter. But have you got the guts to ask, when you don't know the answer? You maybe ever consider that's what she wants you to ask?"

He sighed, and sat back, resting an arm across the backrest, one behind her head. "I dunno. What do yuh want Don tuh ask?"

The question took Breech off guard, and she thought about it, "I guess... I guess I want him to ask me to hold him. Like he'd be wanting me to hold him, even though he's gonna get his sinuses playing up like merry hell. Like... Like I matter more to him that his god damn allergic fucking reaction to my god damn stupid species. God damn...."

"Huh?" It was a goofy reaction, but it suited the mood, and the stupidity behind her comment. "Yuh do. Can't yuh see dat? And you’re a bigger blockhead than I'll ever be if yuh think a runny nose and some mindless sneezin's gonna keep his six fingers off yuh.. I bet he's workin' on some kinda cure, antidote uh somethin’, y'know?"

"Yeah, but I want him to ask," Breech repeated, "He's freaking transparent about how he feels but I feel like I can't just reach out and hold him because I'd hurt him. I don't care about a cure. Well... the cure's still good... I want to hold him, dammit. I did it on the roof, before I knew he was allergic, and you know what? It was the best thing I'd ever felt in my entire life... which wasn't hard at the time, but it's gonna take some surpassing. But now I feel like I can't do that. Like I need his permission... It's an oestrogen thing."

Casey shook his head. "Oh, slag.... You’re jus’ like me. Yuh got no idea. Tell yuh what. I'm gonna tell you a secret. A secret about men."

Breech crossed her legs, smirking, "Why do I get the feeling I'm gonna be just as confused as you were when I told you the big secret about women?"

"Actually, yuh won't be." He leaned forward now, one leg bent upon the couch, the other foot on the wooden floor. "Cuz I'm gonna show yuh." Reaching for her arm, he took hold of the wrist, and turned her palm to face him. "Now. As much as we like tuh pretend we're indestructible, like our bodies ah made o' diamond-encrusted concrete uh somethin', men love tuh be touched. All yuh gotta do is admire our shells, not challenge 'em." He took hold of one of her fingers, and placed it on his chest. "See dat? Now yuh just rub it around." He acted out his words. "Touch us like dis, put yuh hands on us. Do duh same wit our shoulders, backs, even our butts. We like tuh be admired. If April ever did dis tuh me, I'd tear my pants again." He let go of her hand, but stood in his spot. "Do dis with, and without our permission. Nuttin' turns us on more den tuh have a female who wants us."

Breech pulled her hand back again, "Wow. It's that easy?" she asked him, and she sounded pretty serious, "I mean... You mean I don't need, like... some kind of... him asking?"

"Hell no! All yuh gotta do is make sure he knows yuh want 'im, and he won't be able tuh resist yuh. But see, men don't want women tuh know dis. Yuh supposed ta work it out yourselves. Understand?"

Breech grinned, recognising her own phrasing right there, "Yeah, I understand. You're smarter than you pretend, Casey, you know that? Maybe you should try pulling some of this sensitivity on April sometime..." she smirked, "And hey, maybe I'll tell her your big secret."

He grinned right back at her. "You do dat, I'll tell Don yoah'z. Den neither of 'em mean nuttin'. I told yuh, own volition. He finds out I told yuh, he's gonna t'ink yuh just doin' it tuh give 'im what he wants. And dat defeats duh purpose. Understand?"

"Yeah, I get it," Breech smirked, "’Cus that's why women never tell men our secret. Ask, and you shall receive. ‘Cus women are like God," she smirked, "We'll give you guys just about anything you want, if you've got the guts to ask for it."

"Dat's funny. Cuz men like tuh be treated like Gods. Praised, worshipped. Know wut I mean? Treat us dis way, and we'll give yuh anythin’ yuh want. Touch Don like I just told yuh to, he'll be spillin' turtle yogurt all over yuh. And I'll bet he knows exactly where duh clitoris is,” he grinned, "Give, and you shall receive."

Breech grinned, not bothering to correct Casey, "Thanks, Casey," she told him, "For listening. I couldn't have told Don all this. It's just... there's things you tell your friends, and then there's things you tell your... different kinds of friends. Not that I've had many friends... but I couldn't have talked to him about all this. I like him too much to, you know?" she asked, scratching her neck.

"Yeah, I understand. But see, dat's duh same reason I can't just tell April I wanna be her man and bone every night she ain't MSing. It's... complicated, when it's huh..." He scratched his head, shoulder-length hair parted by his finger. "An', a part o' me wishes she'd just come up an' touch me..."

"Well, if you're too much of a man to ask for directions..." Breech smirked, then her face went serious again, "If you don't want me to tell her, I won't. Just remember what I told you, 'kay?"

"Tell yuh what. Gimme yuh word that you'll touch Don, and you'll have mine that I'll be duh nosiest New Yorker since Ralph Cramden." Arms still crossed, he stuck a hand out to meet hers.

"Deal," Breech shook his hand firmly, grinning, "And while we're making deals... how about we take that little joyride some time? I'm not gonna break my promise to Don... but if I can not kill those guys, I can not kill anybody."

"Hah! You askin' me!? Lady, yuh askin' a dog tuh hump a cat's leg!" His handshake turned into a hold - a bond-bearing hold that's shared only among 'buddies'. "And dis leg's got wheels. Now... go back tuh sleep, will ya?" He was pushing it, but had a feeling his insults actually became complimentary now.

"Yeah... I actually think that's possible now," Breech swung her legs back on the couch, "And you can go back to guard duty. I'm not a moron. Don put you here to make sure I don't go on any gutting sprees, just as much as to keep somebody from kicking down that door." she lay back, but she was grinning anyway, "I'm not mad at him. If I was him I'd want to protect people from me too."

He shook his head, arms returning to their crossed position. "Yuh not givin' 'im enough credit. But I'm done brightenin' up dee obvious for yuh. Yuh t'ink Don don't trust yuh, yuh wrong already."

"Hey, I'm me and I wouldn't trust me if I didn't have direct access to my own thoughts," Breech replied, arms behind her head, "Hell, sometimes I don't trust me anyway. Sure as hell I don't trust that door to not be busted in by my old 'family'. They're not the Foot. They use guns. Ugh..." She scratched at the line of raw skin on her neck absentmindedly.

"You’re a moron, y'know dat? Ya say duh guy's transparent, and he is! But yuh can't see through 'im cuz ya blind as a bat, Cat."

"Hey, it's no big deal," Breech told him, "It's the smart thing to do. I might start having a problem if I had to put up with you every night... But first night? That's cool."

"Yeah. I feel bad fuh April. Imagine havin' tuh sleep next tuh me. Not only do I snore, I kick around like the Chinese dude in Mortal Kombat. ...why aren't you asleep yet? Shut yuh lids and zip yuh lip. Yuh gonna need sleep if yuh wanna stay awake durin' Master Splinter's lecture."

"Yeah... whatever..." Breech lay back, and closed her eyes, "Hope they take things as well as you guys did..." About three seconds later, she was asleep again, and making the low, purring snore again.

Casey smiled. He couldn't help it. The same went for shaking his head. Normally, he didn't like cats. But, they're suddenly growing on him.

~~~

Three blocks away and under the street's cedar, a sleepy turtle sat awake, cheek on his palm and elbow on his desk. He shook his lead, and couldn't help smiling. “Thanks for the advice, friends. I'll be sure to utilize it properly.”

~~~

Harley: Nah, don’t get any funny ideas. Casey and Breech are just friends.

SonicFrank: For now.

Harley: Don’t lead people on, SF! Or is he...
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The Long Walk