We Are Three

A Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles fanfic


Summary: We are three and forever will be... Something is missing, and they don't understand what it is.

Characters: Donatello, Raphael, Leonardo, Splinter, and Michelangelo.

Warnings: Possible character death.

Mood Music: Barlow Girl: Never Alone

Disclaimer: Don't own the TMNT as much as I want to. Then again, if I owned it, Mikey would be the main character. Either that, or his death would be mourned. O.o

Other notes: Sorry guys, I won't be updating my other stories any time soon. This'll be my only one for a while. I'm on a TMNT trip. For first time readers of mine, I hope you enjoy this. Check out my favorites if you want to read some quality stuff.


Donatello leaned back in his chair with a sigh and closed his eyes, listening intently. His brow furrowed as he realized thumps were coming from somewhere in the lair, but then relaxed again as he noticed no words were being traded. That meant all was peaceful: one or the other was just fighting.

He leaned forward again and checked the time on his computer, then groaned softly as it glowed a soft, 2:30 am. Donatello contemplated going to sleep in his warm, comfortable bed, but soon disregarded the idea as his eyes landed on a large jumble of wires and metal. A radio. Well, it used to be, before it had somehow angered Raphael during one of his spats with Leonardo.

The sounds stopped for a moment, then grew far louder, resounding through his head horribly. He shook off the ridiculous idea, he needed to do his part in this family. Donatello drooped a bit. However small it is...

He sat up in attention as he noticed his computer was beeping, then grunted in annoyance as a random pop-up appeared on his desktop. Donatello got rid of it quickly, then got to work on the radio.


Raphael struck out at the bag hanging from the ceiling. How dare he! He gritted his teeth together, punching harder. He ain't perfect either! He grew perfectly still suddenly, then spun around. "Leo?" he blinked for a moment before rolling his eyes and striking even harder at the bag.

In the back of his head, the cool colour of blue flashed. He furrowed his brow and shoved his fist forward with the most possible force and repeated it, finding some sense of joy in the idea of doing this to his brother.

Raphael's blows hit hard, causing the surprisingly heavy punching bag to swing back and forth. A little poetic voice piped up in his head, Kinda' like our fights... He shook the idea out of his head and proceeded to roundhouse kick the bag with his right foot. This caused it to swing to the left. He grunted in satisfaction and continued to hit it around, making little sounds every once in a while.


The particular blue-banded turtle was currently sitting in his room. Legs crossed and on the floor, he attempted to clear his mind. However, the thoughts persisted, buzzing in his head like a swarm of bees, every word stinging as bad as one. With a sigh he gave up and stared at the wall instead, disregarding the idea of meditation.

Why couldn't Raphael just try to understand that he had to stay inside? I mean, really. The only instruction that Splinter gives us he just has to break it... he must have this little sense that tells him he must go out whenever he's not supposed to! Leonardo shook his head slightly, causing the bandanna tails to sway behind him. I should get to sleep, I'm not even making sense anymore...

Minutes later, he still lay in his bed, frowning at a dark wall. In his musings, he had realized something. I wonder how Donnie's doing... His frown deepened. God, I never really... Leonardo relaxed and gave a sigh, flipping onto his side so he could stare at the door. I'll talk to him in the morning...

Before he fell asleep, he felt something odd. Hollowness. Like... something was missing. He shrugged it off, however, as just missing his brothers.

He didn't know how right that feeling was.


Thus was the life of the three turtles. Ah yes, you're probably confused. Three, you say, what are you talking about? There's four. No, no. In fact, in this little tale, things went a little bit differently...


A small, grey rat watched the smaller, green figures fall down into the gutters and scampered on to find what they were. It somehow managed to frown with its long muzzle as it looked at what was slowly mingling with the water near the gutter. However, it didn't have time to figure out what it was, as the lumps had fallen into the sewer, small enough to fall through the grate and unable, it seemed, to stop.

The rat squeezed its body through the grate, finally coming through with a nearly inaudible pop noise. Continuing on, it followed the short trail of the slow-moving, glowing, green stuff, and paused in its travels as it saw a few lumps.

After a moment of staring at them, as they were moving through it as though it were molasses, the rat inched forward, and one of the lumps moved a bit, revealing a pair of eyes. The rat jumped in surprise and leaned forward, pulling the creature out of the goop by a leg. It seemed to smile at him, still covered in the goop, then shook, getting the goop all over the rat's face.

The rat cleared out its eyes, then searched the glowing stuff for a few more moments, then pulled two others out, whom then proceeded to shake all over him as well. It looked around itself, occasionally pulling one of them closer slightly to prevent them from wandering off. Finally it found a suitable container, a coffee can. It carefully pulled one closer with both paws, then held it over the tin gently. However, it was all in vain as the small green thing snapped at his hands, causing the rat to squeak and let it fall into the can. It proceeded to squeak viciously at the creature in the can, who snapped back at it.

The rat ignored the still-snapping little one, and put its uninjured paw on the ground next to the next one, as though asking it to step on. At first it just stared at the paw for a moment, then stepped hesitantly onto it, eyes widening as it was carried into the air, then placed gently into the can. The snapping one proceeded to completely ignore the curious one to almost glare at the rat.

Turning to the last one, the rat felt something: confusion. The last one seemed to be staring at the can apprehensively, as though searching for something. It looked back to the thick goop behind it and slowly began to crawl towards it, focused intently. The rat felt another thing: annoyance. It scampered forward a bit and snatched the last creature up, who gave a weak little struggle, still intent on going to the goop. The rat held tight then finally laid the last one into the can. The snapping one seemed to give up on snapping at the rat and nipped at the newest arrival's tail, whom snapped back, causing the agitated one to stop and go to another side of the can. The curious one just sat still, looking at the other two as if studying them.

The rat stared at the little drama going on inside the can, then shook off the feeling. Suddenly, his mind provided him with a word. Turtle. It blinked for a moment, studying these so called turtles, then picked up the can with one paw and struggled to pull it deeper into the sewers, to a place of comfort and solitude.

As its tail turned the corner like a snake, movement other than the natural flowing came from the deepest part of the goop. A light green head popped up from the goop, then looked around, as if confused. It slowly crawled out of the glowing stuff, then shook itself off, if not a bit weakly, as it had been under it for what seemed to be a long time. The small turtle blinked slowly, looking around, then began stepping surprisingly quickly towards the tunnel that it had seen the movement in.

It crawled. And crawled... and continued on. After about an hour of continuous meaningless walking, it began to slow, then finally stopped. Its eyelids drooped, and it gave a soft little yawn, then suddenly collapsed right next to a wall. The last turtle had fallen asleep, never to realize nor remember what it could have found with that rat, nor the other three ones of its kind. Its heart began to slow in the darkness and musty air of the coldest corner of the sewers. The beating grew softer and slower...

And slow...




Now. I would like to know if you guys would like me to continue this and let Mikey-boy live, or let him stay this dramatic. So guys, what'll it be: an actual story, or a oneshot? Here would be the plot of the next chapter if any: Someone finds the little turtle. Someone... not nice. Years later, the three others invade Bishop's labs and find something that they had lost years ago. So, review, don't care how long, thanks for reading!