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"Raph, we need to talk." Green eyes seemed surprised as they turned to meet his. Michelangelo couldn't blame him, it was a sentence that was restricted to use on cardiac patients. Besides, Michelangelo rarely sounded really serious, like, once in two years or so; which probably would make Raphael get curious. "Whazzat, Mikes?" Raphael asked, trying to sound more casual than his eyes reflected as he crashed an orb with Space Heroes logo on it – guess whose favorite decoration it was. They were in the sewers, in a tunnel that had a dead end and woods protecting the entrance. The Hamatos had been using there as storage for a long while now. A

"Guys…" Donatello groaned with the heavy feeling under his plastron. "We need to do something about…" He hiccupped. "…this." "Yeah, before-" Raphael burped. "Before all our muscles turn into elephant fat." Leonardo mumbled something, but it wasn't understood due to the carpet he had pressed his face against blocking his voice. Poor guy didn't have enough empty space in his stomach to help him to get up; Donatello knew, because he was exactly in the same condition. Good thing he hadn't ended up facing the floor though. "What was that, Leo?" Raphael asked. Leonardo rolled up with a wail; he seemed in a real pain while doing that. "We could

It was the third day of torture, and Michelangelo almost wanted to kill himself just for some action. He wasn't allowed to go on patrol tonight. And he probably wasn't gonna be for a while. Damn that stupid wound. Raphael so owned him – but he would never mention it even as a joke, the hot-headed turtle seemed off around his little brother since that night although he always tried to hide it, and it saddened Michelangelo with a slight presence of annoyance. April pulled a chair beside him. "So, Mikey… what's up?" "All mutant turtles in New York except for me," Michelangelo answered without raising his head from the kitchen table he had bee

"Please, Donnie," Michelangelo begged. "I'm bored." Donatello rubbed his temple. "No, Mikey. You are still injured, and movements you do with your skateboard are likely to open your wound again." "But I am the Michelangelo!" he argued. "The party dude, the hyper turtle! You can't expect me to stay like… this!" Michelangelo pointed at his body which was currently lying on the sofa with least amount of movements. The older turtle sighed impatiently. "Mikey, you have a three-fingers-deep wound. You need time to completely heal, and if you want to be 'the hyper turtle' as soon as you can again, you must move as seldom as possible." Michelange

"Is he getting better?" Leonardo asked again. "For the last time Leo, I DON'T KNOW!" Donatello snapped. He had almost screamed, and he didn't look good at all. His eyes were so red that his irises were practically placed on pink optics. If the bags under his eyes were as heavy as they seemed, it was no surprise that he had taken off his mask which he nearly never untied. His brothers' status was no better. No one had slept that day – although they slept only for two or three hours a day, they hadn't taken even that. Donatello could be considered as worse than others, because he had been studying on Michelangelo's wound to find a way to heal

Raphael hated a lot of things. He hated Canadian, female-like pop singers who thought they were singing. He hated those terrible sequels which completely ruined the original's cool. He hated salads which wouldn't even fill 1% of one's stomach. And he certainly hated being teamed up with his youngest brother. "Mikey!" he hissed to the shorter turtle. "Which part of 'watch' and 'silently' you don't understand?" He hated waiting instead of attacking, and like the hell exactly doing it wasn't annoying enough, Michelangelo kept shaking his shell right behind his back got on his nerves. Michelangelo didn't even listen. Raphael doubted he even

April was disgusted by herself. She kept reminding herself that she wasn't doing this willingly, but the fact that she was even supposed to keep ignoring him, let alone talking to him. She had to. She just had to, because she was too perfectionist for her own good. "Come on Mark," she tried to convince him. "Just name a price." "I already did it, baby." April couldn't decide what to throw up for; because he called her 'baby', or because she was desperately begging him. Mark Wiggins was handsome. She wasn't going to deny that. But she would prefer dating a turtle rather than dating him, and considering she had four of them as a family, thi

Michelangelo had a phobia. Actually, he had more than one phobia, but this was the strongest one. Maybe could get over the others someday, but not this. After their fifteenth mutation day, he had been seeing nightmares for a while. They were about his family falling apart over a fight, and although bad dreams didn't last longer than a week, they were so realistic that Michelangelo considered them as possibilities, and eventually found himself phobic. For some reason, in those nightmares, it was always Leonardo and Raphael who fought. That's why Michelangelo couldn't help his shiver right now. The older brothers' arguments were too often to

"What do you mean, you always celebrate Christmas?!" Leonardo couldn't understand what was the big deal. What, mutated turtles couldn't celebrate Christmas? It was forbidden to go up there before they were 15, but there was nothing about having fun in unwritten-rules-for-mutant-ninja-kids list. He exactly told these to the redheaded female, expecting her to clarify why she had thought otherwise. Apparently, she didn't know either. "I just… assumed. I mean, you said you never had celebrated Halloween before, and I thought…" "…it was the same for all holidays, right?" Leonardo completed her sentence. April slightly nodded. "But April, trad

April sighed as she walked on the streets from school to the closest manhole to the turtle lair. In daytime, she preferred using the sewers as rare as possible, after all, they stunk and April wasn't used to it yet – the lair smelt a lot better, Splinter had said he hid cherry blossom leaves in some spots to explain the Asian scent of the rooms once. Besides, she was a normal human being –at least she seemed normal-, therefore she didn't need to be afraid of being spotted unlike her extraordinary friends. December hated being ignored, and did its best to be noticed. After the snow on the first day of the month, the weather got no warmer. Alt