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[A small, dark room greeted them upon awakening; the only light bled in as diluted moonlight from a small window about eight feet off the ground. The floor was concrete and dipped in the center toward a drainage grate; occasionally sewage trickled beneath it and made the room smell, but it wasn't anything its occupants weren't used to.

One shadowed figure was propped upright against a nearby wall, his wrists snapped in cuffs anchored to the brick with iron bolts and chains, just short enough to keep his arms above his head and unable to fully rest.

Another figure lay across the room, huddled in a corner and unmoving. The only sound was the plip plip of sewage and their ragged breathing.]

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[Letting out a shuddering breath of relief, Mike closes his eyes and lets his head hang. This is so bad this is so bad and he doesn't know how to help.]

[It's an agonizingly long wait, but the vertigo passes and Leo knows he's back in the land of the coherent.] Sorry, [he rasps, and shifts to lift himself back up on his elbows.]

Is it too heavy for you to use at all, or could you just not reach it? [Oh please let it be that Mike couldn't lift it with his feet, please. Please. Leo doesn't think he can stand without falling over in a dead faint.]

It's too heavy.

[Mike demonstrates by trying to grip the grate. There's not enough slack in the chains, and the grate is just too heavy for him to lift.

He already knows what Leo is thinking.]

You're not standing up to do this. Leo.

Well, I'm sure as hell not going to levitate. [Leo twists himself around and grits his teeth against a sound as he props his shell up against the wall.]

Leo, you've got broken legs!

[That panic is bleeding back into Mike's tone, but there's anger too. Leo always wants to push himself that little bit harder, be that little bit too reckless, and here when they're alone and vulnerable and can't see and don't even know where they are and who's got them, it's all the more frightening a prospect.]

You know, I thought that might've been it. [That's it Leo, just laugh it off. Won't be so bad if you can laugh about it. He takes a few deep breaths, tilting his head back until it rests against the brick wall. It's a nice night outside, probably.

Well. Now or never.

He twists to grip the bricks.]

[sdfkdjsfhkjdhf]

Leo I am so not carrying you out of here!

[Channeling his fear into anger seems to be working for now, and the temptation to try and kick his brother is right there, if it weren't for the fact that he might hurt him worse and with his reach it'd be more like tickling with his toes.]

[Luckily, neither of them have to worry about Leonardo trying to stand on a set of busted legs, because at that moment the steel door on the far side of the room clicks as the deadbolt turns. With a whine of disuse it swings open and faint, sickly yellow light slaps across the ground to illuminate a figure in the doorway.]

Tsk. You lads weren't supposed to be moving around.

[Leonardo quickly tucks the grate beneath his thigh as silently as he can managed, fixing the man with a glare.]

[Mikey's stomach sinks and he clamps his mouth shut, eyes wide.

Oh shit. Shit shit shit.]

[The man ambles in, fixing Leonardo with a surprised look.] Tough little fucker, aren't you? How about you drag yourself back into that corner over there?

[When Leonardo doesn't comply, the man sighs and reaches into the inside pocket on his jacket, withdrawing a pistol. He chambers a round with practiced ease and presses the muzzle of the gun against Mike's forehead.] Please.

[Mikey instinctively tries to rear back from the gun, but there's nothing behind him except rough, damp brick. He swallows hard and his eyes are wide and fixed on the man.]

[With the man waiting, a gun to his little brother's head, there's little else Leonardo can do but comply. He inches away from Mike, eyes fierce and shaking from both pain and barely contained fury. He attempts to hide the grate and bring it with him, but the man chuckles and shakes his head.]

No, lad, you leave that here. [Leonardo stared defiantly for a moment, but the man pushed the gun harder into the skin of Mike's head and he was left with no other choice. Inch by inch, he dragged himself to the far corner; once he collapsed on the other side of the room, gasping, the man lifted his gun back.]

There's a good boy.

[He watches Leo for a bit to make sure he isn't faking his exhaustion, then jerks to face Michelangelo and brings the butt of the gun around to crack into the turtle's jaw.]

[Wincing as the cold metal pressed painfully against his head, Mike's eyes flitted over to Leo, then back to the man. Leo just dragged himself all the way across the room, now he was making him go back again? Who knew what damage he was doing himself wh--

The sudden blow to his jaw breaks him out of his thoughts and Mikey's head whips to the side. Choking out a shocked sound of pain, he coughs once.]

[Leo hears Mike gasp, though it sounds as if it's coming from another room, through a thick wall. Muffled, like he has cotton in his ears. He's going to pass out.

No no no no Mike Mike-]

My employer is going through a good deal of trouble to make sure you two make it to your destination relatively alive. [The man strikes Michelangelo again, then steps back and kicks hard against his plastron.]

You understand? A lot- [whud] -of trouble! [Whud.]

[There's nowhere for him to go, he can't fight back, can't curl up, can't even try and run.

Grunting and crying out with each blow, Mike struggles in the restraints, breathing panicked and ragged with pain. He has to get free, has to make sure Leo's okay, has to get away from this.]

Shut up, [the man ordered exasperatedly, and slammed Mike's head back against the wall before pressing the gun to his teeth.]

Goddamn beasts. They walk and talk like they're people but the second you rough them up a little bit they start crying like animals again.

AH--

[Clenching his eyes shut as the wall connects painfully with his head, Mikey tries to bite back the sounds of pain, but is entirely unsuccessful. Groaning as his skull rings, his head dips to the side, despite the gun pressed to his jaw.]

[He scoffs, tapping the gun against Mike's teeth before removing it and using it instead to lift his chin. So absorbed is he in toying with Michelangelo that he doesn't notice Leo silently crawling toward the drain in the center of the room or untying his mask.]

Look at you. Can't even look a man in the eye for a proper conversation. And you're supposed to be worth millions?

[Breathing hard and shakilyy, Mike groans as his chin is lifted, opening his eyes sluggishly and trying to stare the man down. It's not a particularly intimidating look, considering how scared he is.]

Edited 2010-03-01 09:06 (UTC)

Ahh, you're just a kid anyway. [He taps Mike's cheek with the pistol and steps back.]

Excuse me. [When the man whips around at the sound of Leo's voice, he withdraws the mask he just soaked with raw sewage and slings it up to slap right into his eyes.

When the man howls and reaches up to fling the cloth away and scrub at his eyes, Leo throws himself onto his side, snatches up the grate and throws it like a frisbee at the man's head.

There's a sick sound like a hammer striking wood a little too hard before the man falls to the ground and doesn't move.]

[Head dipping as the man lets go, Mikey didn't even notice that Leo had crawled across the room. Groaning quietly under his breath, he tries to bite back a whimper in the silence.

Silence.

Jerking his head up, Mikey's eyes go wide. The man's gone.]

Edited 2010-03-01 09:13 (UTC)

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