29A/N: Just when you thought these boys couldn't get much worse- they do. but they are, sadly, damaged goods, and in spite of her misgivings, April DOES genuinely care about them- though she is a little afraid of them, too. But Splinter, though...
Chapter 2: Sins of the Father
Leo finished his meditation and spent the next two hours replaying his battle with Saki, trying to discover where he had gone wrong. When he came out, he found Raph watching a football game. Don was in his workshop- the light was on and the door was open; the sound of a welding torch could be heard.
"Where's Mikey?" Leo asked, tapping Raph on the shell. The red-clad mutant gave him a noncommittal shrug, and went back to his game. Leo grunted his annoyance, and then passed through the kitchen to poke his head into Don's workshop. He repeated his question loud enough to be heard over the arc welder.
"Still in his room, I think," his brother said, without even looking away from the piece of metal frame he was welding.
Leo grumbled under his breath about his siblings not caring where their teammate was, as he headed for the bedroom area, dreading what he might find. He approached Michelangelo's room, a small section of side tunnel bricked off from a larger line, listening for any sounds from within. Each of them had a similar room, though Leo's was closest to their father's sanctuary. This was both an honor, and a restraint; Leonardo had been given the space next to Splinter so that their parent and mentor could keep tight control over the boy. Raphael's room was next, though he often rebelled at the strict and harsh rules the rat imposed. The other two had rooms that were both smaller, and further from their father's presence- and they liked it that way. As far as the two younger brothers were concerned, the less they were around their parent, the better.
He knocked on the makeshift door to the youngest turtle's room, and heard an answering growl from within, amid the sounds of thumping and whimpering. "Go away, I'm busy!" came the reply, without even a pause in the noises from inside the den of the most energetic and restless of the four.
Leo sniffed, and even with the door closed, he could smell the strong odor of arousal, and the metallic tang of blood. He grimaced, hoping his brother hadn't done something truly sadistic to their only human "friend". He had a habit of getting carried away with his games, which often resulted in the disposal of a body. Though Leo didn't particularly care about April as a person, she could be useful on occasion, and he would hate to lose such a valuable asset.
"Is she in there with you?" He asked, knowing the answer already.
"Uh, she's kinda' tied up right now, she'll be out later!" The youngest answered with a chirpy tone. He sounded slightly out of breath.
Leo shook his head in disgust. Knowing his brother, that was probably literally true. "Mikey, let her out of whatever bondage equipment you've got her in, and get out here! It's almost time for dinner. You're cooking."
"You're cooking," mimicked the other from the room snidely. "Why do I always have to do it?"
"Because Raph's cooking always tastes like cardboard, and you know I can't even scramble an egg. Or do you want one of Donnie's 'healthy' tofu and veggie dinners again?" The leader asked pointedly. That was bound to get the other's attention.
"Okay, OKAY! Coming!" There was a sound of rapid clapping, coupled with several rough grunts. Leonardo stood outside waiting patiently, until a final deep groan came from inside, and the noises stopped. A couple of minutes later, the orange-clad mutant opened the door, and the woman came staggering out, weak-kneed and wincing with every step. Her hair was disheveled, clothes askew, and she kept her head low, avoiding looking Leo in the eyes.
"We're running low on some things, April. I'll make a list for you, and give you the money from our last job so you can get what we need." Leonardo didn't ask, he simply assumed his request would be carried out without any protest, as it always was. The woman grimaced for a moment at the commanding attitude, as if considering refusing, but she glanced at the pair, and thought better of it. The last time she had dared to decline one of their requests, she had ended up spending an hour with Splinter, who had somehow "convinced" her to comply. She still had no idea what had happened or what he had said, only that when she came out, she'd been only too happy to do as they asked. That- and his frightening fits of rage- was one of the reasons she walked on eggshells whenever the rat was around.
Michelangelo watched them walk away, admiring her backside as she trailed behind his brother. Her gait was stiff and unsteady; he chuckled to himself, remembering the cause. Only five minutes earlier, he'd been grinding hard into that firm behind, a gag placed in her mouth, a pair of handcuffs on her wrists, and a collar around her neck as he had bent her over on hands and knees on the bed. He turned around with a grin and trotted off toward the kitchen to make their dinner, high-three-ing Raph as he passed by the sofa.
April followed Leo into his own room, and waited silently while he pulled a pen and paper out of a small desk and began to write out the list of supplies. Most of it was mundane items; food, cleaning supplies- Splinter insisted their lair be spotless, unlike the surrounding sewer tunnels- and the like. His room was Spartan, with only the desk, his well-made bed, and a single shelf holding a vase containing a simple arrangement of bamboo and orchids, a few books, and an ancient Samurai helmet. Of all the brothers, he was the only one she didn't feel constantly on edge around. He rarely ever called her into his room to spend time alone, unlike the two youngest boys. When he did, he was always very polite and formal, making it clear what he wanted her to do, but without subjecting her to the shame of the unsettling fetishes and borderline torture. He simply told her what he wanted without preamble.
He handed her the note, which she tucked into a pocket of her yellow leather jacket. He pulled a small box out of the desk, unlocked it, and drew out several twenty dollar bills. "This should cover everything. And you can keep whatever you don't use- call it a thank you for the trouble." Leonardo was the only one who had ever expressed appreciation for her help. The others usually seemed to take it for granted. He gave her the money and she shoved it in the pocket with the note.
"Thanks, Leo. I could use a few extra dollars to eat on later." She said, giving him a nervous smile. She started to leave, but he grabbed her wrist, holding her back.
"Have dinner with us. We could use the company. We- we might not get another chance to see you." Leonardo didn't want to admit it, but he liked having someone else around, and he sometimes thought of her as a sort of surrogate mother or "big sister". "We came home empty-handed on our mission tonight, and Sensei wasn't pleased. He's sending us back out tomorrow night; it's our last chance. If we fail…."
He didn't finish. Didn't need to. She nodded; she knew the rat's moods well enough to understand that if they didn't succeed this time, she would not see them again. "You should leave. Just get far away. You're capable of taking care of yourselves- what do you need him for? You could go anywhere, and live your own lives. He's too dangerous- get out while you still can." She didn't know why, but in spite of knowing what they did to survive, she felt sorry for them. It wasn't their fault, really. They were what he had made them.
"You know we can't. We owe him our lives. He's our father, for whatever that's worth. This is all we have. Absolute loyalty and obedience to clan above all, remember?" He said, shaking his head. "We are what we are, and nothing can change that. He saw to that." He grimaced, his gaze falling to the floor in anger. He felt no remorse for what they did- he held no real love for humans, knowing that the humans would just as happily dissect them if given the chance. Why should he care about killing a few of them here and there? They were nothing to him. Even April, whom he at least considered useful.
Yet there was still that same tiny voice, the one that tugged at the corners of his consciousness, that told him this was not how it was meant to be. Maybe, he thought glumly, if things had been different…. Saki had once offered them a place by his own side, a chance to use their skills for something better than murder and theft. They had refused. Splinter's rule was their only law, and it was absolute. If nothing else, they were loyal to each other- it was the only GOOD thing he had ever taught them. But their loyalty to him came first, always. That was the way of things.
"Well, good luck, then. For what it's worth, I hope you get whatever it is you're after. I have to go back to the station; I'll call you when I get the supplies," she said softly. Leo simply nodded, saying nothing. He seemed tense, on edge. She knew that look well, for she'd seen it on him far too often of late. She suspected he had something on his mind, but was too proud to discuss it with her. She left his small room, and paused in the living room to say goodbye to Raphael.
"Heh, lookin' good, Ape. See ya' around!" He replied with a leer. April gave him a nervous smile, and poked her head into the kitchen where she found Mikey listening to a small radio tuned into a heavy metal station while he stirred a pot of what she thought was spaghetti. He was head-banging, and drumming the air with a pair of wooden spoons along with the music.
She passed by him on her way to Don's workshop, receiving a wolf-whistle and a light smack on her rump with one of the spoons in passing. She grimaced, rolling her eyes at his often obnoxious lack of gentlemanly manners. As much as she tried to excuse his behavior at times, he really was a bit of a pig. The bondage gear and whip he'd employed earlier was just one more example of his perverse idea of "fun". She didn't know which she hated more, his sleazy come-ons, creepy fetishes, or his slightly sadistic games. But as bad as he could be, Raph was often worse.
Raphael was rough, crude, and insensitive; though Mikey had some very disconcerting habits, Raph's were simply boorish. He would pick her up without a word, carry her over his shoulder like some sort of hunting trophy, toss her onto his bed, and order her in a gruff tone to strip down. And when he was done with her- which often took hours- she could hardly even move, let alone walk. Many were the nights she'd been forced to spend the night in his room with him, listening to his loud snores all night, simply because she was too sore, bruised, and exhausted to get up. Even Casey had never been so rough- and HE at least had the excuse of being drunk when he got violent.
She also knew for a fact that Raph drank- and even smoked on occasion- whenever he could. In that regard, Casey was a worse influence on him than Splinter himself had been. As daunting as Raphael was on a normal day, he was much worse when he'd been drinking. At those times, he was downright terrifying. When Raph drank, it was as if every bad trait he possessed was suddenly magnified. He had been known to go out with Casey during a binge, and beat the crap out of whomever they ran into, just because they could.
April slipped into the workshop, wanting to see the brainy brother for a few minutes before she left. He was, as always, contentedly working on some new project. She didn't even know what it was- probably didn't want to know- but she always found herself amazed by his ingenuity and talent, if somewhat unnerved by his "hobbies". Particularly his habit of hacking into bank systems, and "playing" with the accounts of random people, closing them, removing or adding zeros to balances, changing account numbers randomly, or even uploading viruses to completely wipe databanks, for no better reason than that he felt like it. And then there was his most disturbing hobby. Somehow he had hidden mini video cameras disguised as electrical outlets, smoke detectors, or other innocuous objects in public restrooms, dressing rooms, and even motel rooms. He liked to watch his "candid videos" as he called them, occasionally even posting them up on-line.
"Donnie? I just came in to say good-bye before I leave. I didn't get to see you earlier, and I know I promised to help you here in the lab, but it's late and I have to go. Do you mind taking a rain check?" She asked hesitantly. Donatello could be erratic and high-strung, or cold and aloof, depending on his mood. She never knew how he might react to disappointments. The last time he had been annoyed with her lack of cooperation, it had not gone well. He had used a cloth soaked in chloroform to knock her out, and when she had come to, she had been chained to the wall above his futon naked, while he placed small electrodes on her nipples and elsewhere. Then he had begun making increasingly unsettling requests, using the electrodes when she didn't comply fast enough. He had recorded the entire incident, to her dismay.
"Oh. Well, I don't know…. I was really hoping we could continue with those Pavlov tests. I have some ideas how to improve positive response time, and I'm anxious to see what you think. But it might not matter after tomorrow. Not sure if I'll be able to get back to it." He shrugged, as if it was no big deal, and sighed. That was his way of dismissing the subject, though she was sure he was more upset than he let on. She looked around the room uncomfortably, but smiled and patted his shell in reassurance.
"I told Leo I'd call when I get the supplies you boys needed. If you still need help then, I'll help you with- well, whatever you need done. I know it's hard working on some of those delicate experiments with such big hands." She chuckled nervously, trying to ignore his almost hungry gaze raking over her. She was well aware that he had an almost obsessive "crush" on her, and had tried to find ways to discourage him without making him angry. As dangerous as Raph was, in some ways, Donnie was even more frightening when he was angry. While Raphael would rage and snarl and throw or punch things, Donnie would become almost cold-bloodedly devious and creative in his retribution.
April gave him a last wave, and another to Raphael on her way out, moving quickly as if relieved to finally get out of the unnerving atmosphere of the small sewer sanctuary. Raph barely noticed her leave, still engrossed in his football game. He loved the brutality of professional sports, like football, hockey, wrestling or boxing. He had sometimes imagined being a boxer or wrestler himself, but that was all it ever was- a dream. His stomach growled soon after she left, and he scowled to himself, wondering if Mikey had finished dinner yet. He was a creature of few needs, and most of them simple. Food, sleep, and carnal pleasure were the ones he considered most important, though he was often happiest when wading into a fight, reveling in the sound of breaking bones, spraying blood, and screams of agony from those he faced.
He grumbled to himself and got up, heading into the kitchen to see if dinner was ready. He was just in time to see his "baby" brother putting the spaghetti into a large bowl. It was just the way he liked it, too- heavy on the meat and sauce. He padded over to the cupboard for a plate, then flopped down at the table to grab the noodle tongs, piling a heaping helping onto his dish.
"Dude, save some for the rest of us. That's all we had. I hope April gets some more when she goes shopping for us. We're runnin' out of a lot of stuff." The orange-clad mutant told him. Raph glanced down at his plate, then at the bowl, and reluctantly put some of it back. He might be a lot of things, but greedy wasn't one of them. He would never deny his brothers their fair share of food.
The other two came in when Michelangelo called out that dinner was finished, and even Splinter shuffled in to join the. No one spoke, as the four young mutants felt the dark and forbidding threat of what would happen if they failed again. The only sounds that broke the silence of the small kitchen were the occasional clink of forks on plates, slurping noodles, and a couple of ill-mannered burps from Raph and Mikey. Splinter glared at each of them wordlessly, and both teens immediately cringed and gave apologetic shrugs.
After dinner, they each went to their rooms to retire for the evening, though sleep did not come easily to all of them. Mikey sat propped up on his small, lumpy bed, reading one of the secret stash of comic books he had hidden beneath the mattress. Splinter didn't know about them; he did his best to keep it that way. It was his escape from the cold, harsh reality of his life. He couldn't remember a time when their father hadn't punished them for some perceived misdeed. Usually, it was for wanting to have some harmless fun, but he had been known to punish them for anything he did not like, even the "crime" of showing kindness.
He remembered a day nearly two years before, when he had gone up to the surface on his own to walk in the park at sunset. It was near Christmas- not that they'd ever had reason to celebrate the holiday- and he had found a half-starved kitten shivering in the snow. He had thought little of it at first, but the bedraggled feline had tried to follow him, and he had soon realized that it had no mother. It was alone, cold, and hungry. Yet still, it had been unafraid of him, in spite of his strange appearance. Something inside him had felt a kinship with the lost, orphaned animal. He had remembered Splinter's reminders that he and his brothers would have surely perished without his intervention, and he made a decision. He scooped up the freezing kitten, and tucked it into his jacket to take home. It was the last time he had ever listened to his heart.
When he had arrived home a short time later that afternoon, he had proudly shown the kitten to his brothers, and had opened a can of tuna to feed the starving orange kitten. They had all taken turns playing with it after it had eaten its fill, laughing and enjoying the novelty of having a pet. Mikey had even given the little fur-ball a name- Klunk. And then Splinter had come into the kitchen, and had seen the cat. He was not pleased.
"What is THIS?!" He snarled, pointing at the kitten. Klunk looked up at him, and frizzed up in fear at the hostile intruder on its new-found comfort. "What is this filthy animal doing here?!" He demanded, his gaze sweeping the room. All of the boys had gone silent at his outburst, suddenly realizing they had done something wrong in his eyes.
"ANSWER me!" The rat roared; all four cringed, and three pairs of eyes turned toward Mikey. He froze, unable to come up with a response.
"I- uh, I found it out in the park. It was hungry and cold, so I thought…. I mean, we've never had a pet, and it wouldn't take up much room, so-" He floundered, wondering why their father was so angry about the cat. It was so small and helpless, just like they had been once.
"A PET?!" Splinter sneered, his tail lashing wildly in anger. The kitten growled softly from the corner it had retreated to, tail held up like a bottle-brush, ears flattened back. Mikey gulped, a lead weight settling in his gut. He had a horrible feeling he had made a mistake by bringing the kitten home. "Idiot! Pets are nothing more than a frivolous luxury of humans, a useless burden that serves no purpose, and wastes resources we do NOT have! You would take food from your own brothers to give to a worthless animal?!" He struck the youngest mutant across his beak, snarling savagely. The others three turtles edged away, well aware that their father had slipped into another of his rages, though they hardly understood the reason.
"B-but I…. It was all alone! Helpless, like us! I-I felt sorry for it…." Mikey protested, hoping his words would remind their mentor and parent that he had once done the same for them.
Splinter seemed to pause for a moment, as if remembering his reason, but his ears remained flat, and his lips curled back into an angry sneer. He glanced down at the skinny orange kitten, and then back at his youngest son, and suddenly did something none of them had expected. He reached down and grabbed the cat by the scruff of its neck, holding it up for them to see. It spat and hissed, as if sensing danger, but he held it tightly. "Kindness is for the weak! It has NO place here. Do you know what comes of being soft and showing compassion? I will tell you- pain and suffering! I took you four in for one reason only- to train you to become warriors. You are ninja! There is NO place for pity or affection in this clan!"
And before any of them even knew what he was doing, he had grasped the kitten's head, and twisted it swiftly, breaking its tiny neck with an audible snap. The small creature had gone limp, silent and still in an instant. He held its soft body up almost like a trophy, growling darkly at his four sons. "Do NOT bring another filthy animal into our home. This is your only warning." And with that, he had tossed the small bundle into the garbage can, his tail whipping back and forth as he stalked out.
They stood silently for a moment, staring after their father in shock and fear. At last, Mikey had murmured softly, his voice cracking. "Why did he do that? Klunk wasn't hurtin' anything. Why'd he hafta' go an' kill a helpless little cat? I HATE him!" He growled darkly, glaring in the direction of the living room. The others had all nodded mutely, and had slowly left the room one by one, each to his own personal tasks. He had been left alone in the kitchen, the small furry body in the trashcan a solemn reminder that caring for anything- even something so small and insignificant- was a punishable offense in the eyes of their Master. That was the last time he had thought of Splinter as his father. It was also the last time he had ever cried.
Tears in his eyes, he had secretly taken the body out of the trash, and had raided Donnie's small workshop for a small metal box- he'd emptied it of the assorted nails and screws, nuts, bolts, and other small items it held- and had gone back out to the park, to the very spot he'd found Klunk. With a stick and his bare hands, Mikey had dug a hole, laid the box in it, lined with leaves and dried grass, and placed the tiny corpse inside before closing and burying the box. The small grave was unmarked, but it didn't matter. He still knew where to find it, even after nearly two years.
He had learned an important lesson that day, though. Happiness was nothing but a lie. Love and acceptance were something he would never know, and all he could hope for was a few stolen moments of amusement here and there. All that mattered was taking whatever he wanted while he could, enjoying what pleasures he could find before they were snatched away. His life had become a never-ending pursuit of hedonistic desires, as he tried desperately to fill the empty void that was his heart.
In his own room, Donnie sat at his laptop, watching the day's compilation of video from his hidden cameras. He saw little of interest besides a couple of teenaged girls shoplifting outfits by hiding them under their own clothes in a department store dressing room. He considered e-mailing the footage to the police department along with the names of the girls- he found them easily from their personal profiles on a social media site- but decided it was too much trouble. He did, however, post comments to them suggesting that he knew what they had done, knowing full well that the shame once their circle of friends discovered the theft would be even worse than any legal repercussions. He fell asleep at his desk, only waking when the snores from Raph's small room became loud enough to startle him awake. He finally decided to call it a night, and closed the laptop down, crawling into his bed tiredly, his mind still filled with thoughts of Splinter's ultimatum. His last waking thought was that their time might have finally run out.