He lay there shivering-- not from the cold, but from the knowledge of what would
happen. But I don’t know what’ll happen...it’s too vague, I don’t know...The
thought almost paralyzed him; he was so used to knowing, to seeing, to
understanding...
The tall man was standing in the doorway again.
"How are we
feeling?" He smiled, and it dripped shadows like a predator’s grin.
Mike just
scowled. “Where are the kids?”
“Is that all you’re concerned about? What about
yourself?”
There was genuine surprise, but Mike wasn’t about to take any bait. “I
consider it my job to help people.” You bastard...
Hatcher smiled again.
“Even those who don’t know what you are? Who’d gladly kill you just because of how
you look? You’d risk your own ass to save theirs?”
“I’ve done it before.” His own
words tasted like acid. He wanted to spit them at the dark figure, watch the man writhe
with invisible pain...
No. Carrie. Concentrate on Carrie. Tommy. They’re here
somewhere, and it’s not them that these guys want...it’s me...
But that only
meant worse harm for the kids...if he tried to fight, what would happen to
them?
We have to get out of here...
“The mind is a powerful thing,”
Splinter says softly. “There is so much unknown about it, so much that must be learned.
It is perhaps the most powerful force known.”
Donatello blinks, exhaling slowly. He
shifts uncomfortably on the mat and gazes down at the candles flanking the incense bowl.
“What happened before...isn’t there a way to control it?”
Splinter nods. “Of course.
Michaelangelo has learned enough control already. But sometimes...things do not always
happen as we plan...”
Don closes his eyes. “He saw a murder. That would shock
anyone, scar them for life. But he does it all the time, and he never--”
The rat puts a
hand on his arm. “Do not underestimate the power of the mind, my son. It can control us
just as much as we can control it. What you are calling ‘seizures,’ what seem like intense
trances; may just be Michaelangelo’s way of protecting his conscious mind from the
visions he sees.”
Don slowly begins to see. “So...by letting himself go into these
mind states he’s actually preventing shock...but sometimes he loses control and it looks
like a mild seizure...”
Splinter smiles. “If you wish to see it medically.
Perhaps.”
He shakes his head. “I’m just trying to understand...why Mike keeps
passing out like that...I mean, it could be hurting him...”
Leaning forward, Splinter
touches his arm again. “It may not be so important right now, Donatello. Go check on
your brother.”
Sighing, Don nods, stands and bows, and walks out to go to the
bedroom.
“What happened?” he asked.
“I don’t know. I
think--
“Michaelangelo?”
She bit her lip. “Maybe.” Sitting up, she reached for
the robe that was lying on a chair. “Let’s take a shower. I don’t think there’s anything
else we can do around here.”
He nodded. “And we still don’t know why they’re
keeping us.”
She looked at him gravely. “I think I might.”
Tommy looked at her,
not saying a word as they went to the shower and dressed just as quietly. Ten minutes
later, the door to the suite opened, and a lab technician beckoned for Carrie to step
outside.
Hatcher was undoing the straps. Mike stared at him, not understanding,
not wanting to know…
“Go ahead,” the man said. “You’re free to move
around.”
Michaelangelo rubbed his wrists. “Why?”
“You need exercise. You
need to build your strength back”
For some reason that sounded incredibly ominous.
“Why?”
“Why do you think?”
Mike’s eyes narrowed. “I’m not doing any tests
for you.”
Hatcher straightened and smiled. “Of course. My mistake.” He stepped
back.
Glaring at him, Mike slowly stood up off the bed. “What do you
want?”
That smile again. He hated that smile. “It won’t hurt if you cooperate, you
know,” Hatcher said, as though speaking to a child. “Just a few tests, and we’ll let you
and Carrie and Tommy go.”
Fat chance-- “What do you want with them,
anyway?”
The tall man only smiled. And then Mike knew. He doesn’t want them.
He wanted me all along. He’s just using them. As long as they’re being
held--
He couldn’t leave. They wouldn’t let him leave. He was a captive. An
experiment. Soon enough, they’d be taking him apart.
A shudder passed through him.
But fear was always at the surface when you were living a nightmare.
“They have
him?”
"How do you know? You’re sure?”
“Yes-- yeah, I’m sure. But we
can’t--" He pressed a hand to his head. “We can’t do anything about it now.”
“What
do you mean?” Leo asked.
Raph shook his head. “We don’t know where-- for all we
know, they could be in another state-- and it’s dangerous. They’re dangerous.”
“Who?” Don asked. “The people holding him?”
“Yeah. And-- fuck,
I don’t know what-- I-- damn it!” Whirling, he hurled a sai at the wall, then abruptly sat
on the floor, head in his hands. “I wanna go-- but I can’t, I…he doesn’t want me
to--"
Leonardo crouched next to him. “Mike?”
Raph
nodded.
“Why?”
“Don’t know.”
“Maybe he thinks he can handle it
himself--"
"No," Raph said. "Not just that-- I don’t know what it is-- but he’s
scared. I mean, for us-- if we try to find him--" He kept shaking his head. "It’s fuzzy. I
think-- something’s not letting him through."
Sighing, he propped his elbow on his
knee, head in his hand. "Shit. I hate telepathy."
"Yeah--" Don put a hand on his
shoulder. "But it comes in handy most of the time--"
"Who are you?"
No
answer.
"What do you want?"
No answer.
"Where are you taking me
anyw-- hey! Answer me!"
Stopping, Carrie grabbed the man’s arm. "Where are we
going?"
He turned and looked at her, gray eyes cool and stony. "Testing."
She
fell silent. Why? They don’t want me for anything-- do they? Why would they
want--
He led her into a tiny, soundproof room, table and chair, assorted stuff
on the table.
Her mouth twitched. Testing--
She looked behind her. The
technician just stood there silently. She looked up at the glass, knew it was one-way,
knew people were watching her. Wondered if Michaelangelo were there, watching.
Doubted it.
He’s more of a prisoner than we are-- it’s him they want, not
us--
Even so, the thought sent chills up her spine.
Somehow, he knew
Carrie was being tested. He could feel it uncoil in her mind, feel her reach and grasp and
use it. And I brought it out-- they were just waiting for me to do that,
dammit--
He sat at the edge of the bed, staring at the floor. No way in hell
I’m doing the tests. I’ll break us out if I have to. I’ll risk my own ass getting us out. But
no tests. They’re not getting in my head.
It was bad enough being a mutant. It
was bad enough being an accident, a freak of nature. Even though he accepted that, even
though they had all lived with it for seventeen years, it wasn’t the best life. But it was
worse to be held in captivity, like an animal, waiting to be taken apart and poked and
prodded…
He thought about the iron cage, gleaming from the other
room.
They won’t put me back in there. They won’t tie me down again. Man, if
Raph were here, he’d be tearin’ the place down in two seconds…
The thought
sent a bitter smile to his face. He had tried to call Raph, tried to tell him to stay
away…wasn’t sure if it had worked with the drugs still in him, but he hoped. He couldn’t
let these people get their hands on all of them.
I’ll find a way out of here. I don’t
care how long it takes. I’ll get us out of here.
John Hatcher was the problem.
Hatcher was the lock on the door he couldn’t open. If he could get past Hatcher he could
get out. But that wasn’t likely, not now. Hatcher had gone a while ago, locking the door
behind him-- leaving Mike sitting here without answers, leaving him--
To what?
Die? Consider my options? Like I have any--
He looked up at the closed door.
Locked. And the drugs still in his system. Shit.
He felt dizzy. He lay down
and pressed his head into the pillow, closing his eyes. He hated drugs. Especially this
kind.
He thought about getting out. He thought about Carrie and Tommy, wrapped in
false comfort somewhere nearby. He thought about his brothers and sensei, most likely
worried sick.
It was going to be a long night.
"I am always dreaming, even
when I am awake--"
It seems like a fitting proverb. He rewinds the movie and
listens to it again. The unicorn, changed to a human girl by magic, trapped in a body
dying around her. A creature made from anomaly, changed in a fateful way by something
unstoppable. Why does that sound so familiar?
Leonardo comes into the living room.
It’s gotten so that he doesn’t even have to reach his mind out anymore; he just opens and
it comes. "Hey," Leo says.
"Hiya."
"What’re you watching?"
"The Last
Unicorn."
"Isn’t that a kids’ movie?"
Mike scoots up on the couch and looks at
him. "Your point being?"
"Never mind." Leo plops down on the couch.
"We’re
out of Mountain Dew," Mike says, before Leo opens his mouth.
"Oh. Okay, then--
"
"Raph drank the last of the iced tea yesterday."
"Damn--" Leo stands
up.
Mike grins. "Don just made the last pot of coffee."
"Isn’t there
anything to drink?"
Michaelangelo gestures with his chin toward the kitchen.
"Water, lemonade, beer and chartreuse."
Pausing, Leo stares at him. "Who brought
chartreuse into the lair? Wait, never mind-- let me guess."
Mike grins again. "Don’t
worry, he mixes it with the lemonade."
"Good, less bite. Still-- wouldn’t Splinter
have seen it? It’s bright green and yellow, for godsake."
"Maybe he thought it was
Mountain Dew on steroids?"
Leo bursts out laughing, sits back down, and puts his
face in his hands, chuckling. "He isn’t that blind--"
"I never said he
was."
"I know." Leo glances up at the screen. "Why are you watching this
anyway?"
"I like it," Mike says simply.
"Okay."
They watch in silence, and
suddenly Mike becomes aware of color surrounding his brother-- blue mixed with green.
He doesn’t know what the colors mean, and at this point he doesn’t really think about it;
he just stares and concentrates and sees the colors shift and grow steady. That’s Leo
for you. Stoic as a rock. Not even a flicker.
Splinter taught them how to sense
and control chi energy, about a month before Mike encountered the M’Kari ship. Mike
never bothered to really do anything with it; but now that he thinks about it, he wonders
how strong it’s become--
Placing his hands as if a ball is between them, he rolls
them until energy and electricity build up; crackling. Glances at Leo, who hasn’t budged.
Gathers the chi in his left hand, balls his fist, and flicks the energy out at his
brother.
The result is perfect. Leonardo jumps and shudders as if shocked, eyes
growing wide. "What the heck was that?"
"Sorry," Mike says, not feeling sorry. "Just
playin’ around."
Leo gives him a stern look. "You’re not supposed to ‘play’ with chi,
Mikey. You could hurt someone. Especially with your strength."
Mike shrugs.
"Okay, I’m sorry. I just wanted to see."
Settling back, Leo looks back at the screen.
Slowly, Mike opens and shifts his focus. Leo’s still uptight about Raph drinking alcohol,
especially chartreuse; Mike probably should tell him it was leftover from a costume
party. Later, though. He opens more; doesn’t reach, just opens, and feels Don at the
computer, typing away. Something about quantum dynamics and superstring theory.
They go together? Well, in Donnie’s head they might. Why can’t I catch him playing
Doom every now and then? Don is blue and purple, the colors constantly shifting and
pulsing around his head. Go figure.
He moves out and shifts to Raph beating up on
the old punching bag. Raph’s colors are red, of course-- very dark. Some yellow. Like
fire. Cool. I wonder what mine looks like?
But he knows he wouldn’t be able to
see his own. He doubts anyone could without some sort of method.
A loud roar from
the televison breaks his focus. The Red Bull is chasing the unicorn towards the sea.
Leonardo gets up.
"Don checked the tap water this morning," Mike says. "It’s
fine."
Leo wrinkles his beak at him. "What are we supposed to do at Christmas,
Mike? Not think?"
Mike tries not to smile; he can’t help it. "Sor-ry. I just won’t peek
then. Promise." Turns the puppy-dog eyes on his brother.
Leo sighs. "I guess I can
trust that."
He heads into the kitchen, and Mike leans his head against the couch arm,
closing his eyes. The movie ends and automatically stops, rewinding. The default channel
is featuring an old sci-fi movie. He opens his eyes when he hears low moaning.
Something-- someone-- is locked in an iron cage-- a mutant. Scientists mill around the
room, muttering. The creature simply sits there, staring, and Mike suddenly feels a shaft
of fear run through him. That could be us someday. Scientists would do anything to
get their hands on us, take us apart-- experiment--His head starts to hurt. Without
moving, he turns off the TV and curls up on the couch, sighing. Better that we live in
the sewers than in a laboratory. I couldn’t stand that. I don’t think any of us
would.
By the time Leo returns with a glass of water, Mike is asleep. Sitting on
the floor, Leo turns the TV back on, low volume, and sees the mutant in the cage. He
shivers. Turns it off. As Michaelangelo jerks and winces in his sleep, Leo glances down
at him and thinks he can see white walls and black metal. His arms feel pinned to his
sides. Shuddering, he goes into the training room to join Raphael. The image of cold iron
bars follows him out.
He opened his eyes and heard the slow sweep of the katana
as it turned with him-- turning. Light caught on metal, glinted in his eyes.
Chi--
He swung again, foot forward, slow in the dance. Felt the power in his
muscles, his legs, down to his feet, all the way through.
Chi--
Energy.
Movement. Breath. Power. He closed his eyes, tilting his head back, and let the kata take
him. Mike, he thought. Let us in. I’m worried about you, little brother.
An
echo in the distance, a faint wisp of air like a ghost’s whisper. It’s past worrying now,
Leo. Just let me handle it.
Why, Mike? What are you afraid
of?
There was a slight pause. Leo didn’t stop moving.
I don’t want you
guys to get involved. Just stay out of this, bro. I can handle it.
This time Leo
stopped, staring down at the blade, running his free hand along the edge. You’ve
nearly died twice, Mikey. We can’t take that chance.
Not this time, dude. I’ll
be all right. A soft touch on his forehead, a gathering of air on his wrist. Like the
pressure of a hand. Let me go, Leo. I’ll get out. Tell Raph it’ll be all
right.
Silence. He
blinked.
Mike?
"Mike?"
"Leonardo?"
He jumped,
whirling-- Splinter stood in the doorway, head cocked.
"Oh-- Master. I thought--
"
"Were you speaking to Michaelangelo?" Splinter asked.
Leo stood straight,
arms at his sides. "Y--yes, in a way. I needed to know--"
"He is safe?"
"I guess. I
don’t know. The connection seemed faint. I think maybe-- he’s been blocked
somehow--?"
Coming over, the rat placed his hands on Leo’s. Glancing down, Leo
saw the katana clenched in his right fist. It seemed unbearably heavy. "Trust
Michaelangelo," Splinter said softly.
Leo could barely nod. "I know.
But-- Splinter-- just the way he is, even without--"
"Trust him," Splinter repeated.
"He is not as immature as he seems. If he is safe, then that is what matters. He will find a
way."
Nodding, Leo swallowed. "And if not-- he can ask for help."
"He will."
Splinter’s mouth twitched in a slight smile. "We will be listening."
Then, standing on
tiptoe, he reached up to murmur in Leonardo’s ear. "Chi," he whispered. "Let it flow
between you. Give him what is needed."
Then he turned, and was gone.
Leo
stood there, blinking. "Chi," he murmured to the walls. "Mike."
If he’s
blocked-- he needs to get unblocked. Circle. Help him--
Sliding the katana into
the scabbard on his back, he left the training room and went to find the other
two.
"What is it?" Carrie asked dully.
Morrison looked at her. "You’ve never
heard of a yin-yang symbol?"
"Oh," she said in that same voice. "I know what that
is."
He held the globe toward her-- a paperweight, painted to look like balance. She
blinked and took it.
"Do you know what chi is?"
"Chi." She looked up; that
same blank gaze in her eyes.
You know, you just don’t want to show it…He
forced a smile. “Ancient Chinese believed chi energy, life energy, flowed through us and
radiated outward. We could control it with our thoughts, in a way. Sort of like a low-
grade telekinesis.”
“That’s nice,” she said.
He took the ball from her. His
patience was wearing thin. "Have you ever tried using chi energy, Caroline?"
She
blinked at him. Then a slow Mona Lisa smile crept onto her face. He shifted
nervously-- he didn’t like that smile. He could see her hands working almost
imperceptibly. Something seemed to build up between them-- and then she flicked her
hands up toward him and it knocked him back. A shock ran up his body,
tingling.
She really does know-- guess John was right. What about the turtle,
then?
Carrie was looking at him with an almost apologetic expression. "Can I go
back to my room now, or are we not done here?"
Morrison nodded slowly. Up in the
observation room behind the glass, Hatcher just smiled.
"Not this again--" Raph
groaned, rubbing his face. "I hate this hocus pocus stuff."
"Well, it works, doesn’t
it?" Don asked blankly.
"Yeah-- but--"
"Look," Leo said. "We need to find
Mike. But we can’t. So we have to resort to-- different measures."
"It’s just chi,"
Donatello reassured. "You do it all the time."
Raphael thinned his mouth. "Do
I?"
Quickly, Don made a rolling gesture with his hands, the palms barely touching.
He held them up toward Raph, who jerked back with a cry.
"Chi," Leo said
simply.
"Shit!" Raph said. "That hurts!"
He swung his arm out, hand straight,
toward Don. He had barely touched him before Don jerked back with a shudder.
"See? There you go again," Donatello breathed. "You hit me again."
"I didn’t touch
y-- oh."
"Uh huh."
"All right then." Raph cracked his knuckles. "So we all do it.
And this is supposed to help Mike?”
“It should,” Leo said. “Sit down.”
They sat,
lotus style, hands clasped.
‘Triangle,” Don said. “I like it.”
“Start building
energy,” Leonardo said. “Concentrate.”
Raphael closed his eyes, breathing deep.
“Mike…” he rasped.
He felt it curl, tingle like a shock as the energy from his
brothers met his own. His hands tightened their grasp. Mike--
He opened
almost immediately, felt the flood of sensation and mind and thought. Three ways-- two
close by, one distant and weaving. Mike, say
something--
Something!
He caught a sense of a giggle and running
feet.
Quit clowning around! Where are you?
Raph, I told you-- don’t come
after me. You’ll get hurt.
Better that than not knowing where you are. That was
Don.
Or seeing you hurt, Leo added.
Mike: I get the point. But it’s
not your fight.
Raph: Then whose is it? Yours?
Mike: Who
else?
Leo: This isn’t making it any easier.
Mike: Exactly.
Don,
exasperated: Mike, stop it! You know we’re a team, we have to work together--
Mike: I know that, Donny. That’s why we’re even having this talk.
But I gotta go solo on this one. You know that.
Raph: Do we?
Mike,
vehemently: Yes! Oh shit-- he’s coming back. I gotta go.
Mike, wait!
Raphael broke the chain and opened his eyes, letting go of their hands. "Damn it-- little
sonuva--"
"Raph-- no." Leo put a hand on his shoulder. "I think we’d better do what
he wants."
"Since when does Mikey get to choose what we do?"
Donatello
blinked slowly, watching him. "Since he went to rescue those kids. Since he became psychic. Who knows."
Raphael moaned, dropping his head into his hands. "What a
fucking mess--"
"Could be worse," Leo murmured.
Could be dead,
Raphael thought, and swallowed hard. I don’t know what to do, Mike. You gotta tell
me what you want me to do.
But he knew he already had the answer. Stay out of
it.
It was going to be a long night.
Michaelangelo slept. But in the middle of
the night, when the light flared on and his dreams were broken, he found that sleep was
suddenly lost. He stared up at the new doctor, bearded, brown-haired, blue-eyed. Holding
another syringe.
"You’re awake," he said, sounding surprised.
"No kidding.
What’s in there?"
The man glanced at the syringe. "Counteragent to the neutralizer."
"Why? So you can make me do tests? So you can see how I work?" He
grimaced, clenching his fists. He was strapped down again. Of course.
The man
blinked. "You’re a scientific curiosity, after all."
"Thank you," Mike growled. He
closed his eyes. "Just get it over with."
Morrison obliged. "I’ll leave you now. It
should have worked by morning."
"That’s nice," Mike said flatly. He watched Morrison leave, and closed his eyes again. By the time sleep returned, he could already feel the cold fire burning away again-- only this time, it was more poison than
flame.
And in his sleep, Michaelangelo smiled.
We’re getting out tomorrow.
One way or another, we’re getting out of here.
