TMNT-A Fanfiction

Tally has always grown up with the Turtles she's called family-Leonardo, Michelangelo, Donatello, and Raphael. She promises to protect them, them to protect her. But what if something happens that breaks them apart-and they can't protect each other any more?


3. Chapter Two-Fifteen Years Old.

        Feeling the weight of the weapons in my hands, I started towards the center of the home-made dojo, glancing to the sides at my brothers. Thankfully, they weren't really paying any attention, and so I started the moves that Sensei had set for me to practise relentlessly-whereas those four managed to get them easily, I had to work hard to perfect them. Arms swinging, weapons whistling, muscles burning, I was totally in the zone-until some moron decided to tackle me to the ground. "Ung-hey! What was that for, I have to practise!" I was all at once reminded of a younger me, wanting to work and do crap like this, just like the others. Now I just felt like a massive bigot. "What the hell, I'm only meant to work with the weapons, Mikey!" 

        "Shush! Tealeaf? Donnie saw on the cameras that someone is coming-and it ain't looking pretty, apparently!" Standing, I rubbed my soon-to-be-bruised backside, and walked calmly toward the array of fancy looking screens a camera footage Donnie had up on screen. "Look-in the main tunnels. A guy about our age is just strolling on through like it's nobody's business."

        "I'll go. I'll sort him out, get him off our tracks. It can't be nothing but trouble. Wait here." There were mutters of worry and of not wanting to force me to go, but as they were being said, I was already hurriedly filling my partly ripped pockets with nonchalant looking weapons that were deadly when used properly. "Where was he seen, Donnie? Main tunnels? Be back soon guys-and don't forget, if I'm not back within-let's say, ten minutes, or if you see any trouble on the cameras, please rescue me." Grinning, I winked. Obviously I didn't need them to 'rescue' me. Waving, I started to jog off toward the tunnels.


        Five minutes later, I was pressed up against a wall corner, waiting for the guy to walk past so I could have a little 'chat' with him-though he was taking forever. Just as I thought he wasn't going to show, I heard oncoming footsteps, smelled faint cologne, and the rattle of keys.

       Seconds later, a long, skinny shadow bobbed into view, and fast. Doing the only thing I could think of, I stuck my foot round the wall, tripping up the owner of said shadow. He hit the floor with a grunt, and I resisted the urge to laugh-but I still couldn't keep my lips tugging into a smirk, as he heaved himself up, checked himself over, and tensed as he saw my raised fists, my leveled out feet.

        "What you doing down here, huh? No one's allowed. It's closed off. And don't pretend you're homeless like me, neither!" The man took a small, puzzled step back at my remark. He looked a year or two older than me. "I was, uh-I heard that you could get through a shortcut through here. Alright?" His voice was a lot more smooth, more masculine than I expected from a guy who was taking 'a shortcut through here'-it was the sewers, for crying out loud. 

        "If you're taking a shortcut...Then what were these doing in your back pockets?" Grinning, I raised the two innocent looking guns that I had stolen while he was in a daze. "You look confused. Why? Girl got your guns?" I started to laugh as the man's confusement turned to downright anger. He started to lunge, and so I kicked out at his shins, forcing him to, once again, hug the floor with his face. It made me giggle. Loudly.

        "Listen, runt, give those back, or I swear I'll kill you."

         I feigned hurt. "Runt? Me? I think you have me mistaken for you, Squirt." Just to prove my point, just as he started to stand again, I kicked him in the nuts-causing him to buckle over and roll up in a ball. "What are you really doing here, Squirt? Coming to shoot some shortcuts up?" Glancing up, his eyes were watery and red.

        "Fine. You've proved your point, runt. I had a job going, my boss told me that there was something-something that he needed, wanted, an experiment that managed to escape, what? Fifteen years ago? He said that there was five, maybe six of them, and that I needed to use them"-he indicated the guns in my hands-"to, as he said, to put them down. Happy now Runt?" 

        My stomach flipped, my heart squeezed, and my throat constricted. No. No. Shaking my head, I threw the guns against the wall opposite in a rage, causing the brickwork and guns ring out with a loud crack! Crouching down next to his head, I whispered,"No. That's not okay. Tell your boss, Squirt, that next time you want to kill things, bring a better challenger than you. Understand?" Without waiting for a response, I stood slowly, ground my hand on the crook of his elbow, and ran.






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