Puppeteer (TMNT AU)

Part 2 chapter 1: I don't remember, if it's even called that

AN. Sorry about the short prologue, I was trying not to spoil too much for part 2 of the book! Anyway, on with the story! Special thanks to Timothyexpert, I really appreciate that you think my story is good!

He pushed the needle through the sleek thread one last time. 'Perfect.' He thought, holding it up so he could see it.

What was once orange was now black. The only thing he'd kept were the golden outlines of the flames.

He slid it over his head and onto his shoulders. He then grabbed his pen, and opened his journal.

Well, happy birthday to myself, I guess. It's been seven months since the whole thing with my father, Leo and Jenny. I've been out of contact with everyone but Raph.

He came and visited me a few months ago, asking me to join him in some sort of secret mission. He didn't tell me what it was, only that he'd need all the help he could get. I refused.

I saw him earlier today, though. He was with Venus, Donnie, and Jenny. But that's not why I'm writing, it's because of the weird figure that visited me in a vision.

It looked awfully close to what Raph had described as 'Leo' after he'd joined Kitsune. It told me that something bad was coming. As if we don't have enough to worry about...

He closed his journal and fell onto his shell. He closed his eyes, thinking. 'Well, I'm bored. No video games, no TV, not even anyone to hang out with. That's what I get for refusing all the offers to be around family.'

He jerked up as the sharp sunlight penetrated through a hole in the roof of the shed, landing over his face.

He squinted his eyes. 'I should get some food...' he thought, getting to his feet. He walked out the door, made sure no one was there, and sprinted as fast as he could towards the nearest pizza place.

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He turned over slowly, grimacing at the pain that was wrapping his once young body. He didn't know how long it had been. Maybe years, maybe decades, if not a century. He figured he could live that long, maybe.

He let the liquid slowly fall to the ground. It hurt to do this, but he had to...or did he? He really has no clue. Maybe it's best that he doesn't.

If he remembers, then it might hurt, hurt more than what's already happening to him.

"Are you okay?" A worried, yet hurriedly sounding voice asked. "I'll be...fine." He managed, gritting his teeth as more of the black liquid stained the floor.

"Oh my gosh!" The voice yelled, "you're form...what's wrong with it?"

He glanced at his body. The voice was right. He could no longer feel the solid form of a body that he'd once had—thought he'd had—if it wasn't a dream.

"It's been like this for..." he didn't know how long. Time was nothing to him anymore. "...For a long time."

"You should've said something!" The other figure said, although with no anger, just concern.

"You're not much better..." he mumbled, indicating the same liquid that was falling from the other figure.

"Will you two be quiet?" A third figure asked. She was the only one he actually had even a mild memory of.

"Forgive us. But we're starving...is there any food?" He asked. She turned around to look at him.

"Oh, I almost forgot!" She said, sliding off the chair. She glided to what he thought was the kitchen. Or...what was it that the...it started with an 'h', he'd just call them that...what was it that the place with food was called?