No Use |TMNT

Chapter 3

"Man, it's cold." Mikey shivered, going to a kneeling position and he crossed his arms over his chest to keep himself warm. Unfortunately, being a mutant turtle came with its disadvantages; all in all, the reason why Leo refused to let him, as well as Donnie, leave for the chilly topside. But Don being Don, stubborn as always, has reassured he was only going to the junkyard for less than two hours.

That was a week ago―

When three hours passed, worry started to sink into more than just his afterthoughts. Donatello was never late, and if he was, he would've called. Leo had thought his brother was distracted by all the junk and decidedly went out himself that same night to find him. All to be found was a broken Bo. The rest was speculation.

When their leader returned to the lair, he unwillingly told them of the news; someone had taken their brother, and all fingers pointed to the Shredder like clockwork.

The same night the blizzard came and started raining its dismays upon the city and the eldest warned his two remaining brothers it was dangerous to go out with the storm. The cold made their muscles more tensed and can take all their lives to save one.

They tried a rescue mission, but it failed miserable. And it left them with lost hope; there was nothing they can do.

Mikey was fed up waiting, his brother, possibly dead or gravely injured, was in the hands of their arch nemesis. He couldn't just wait, it wasn't that simple. Donnie was his best friend, and he couldn't live without him.

After waiting for another sign of Operation: Rescue Donnie, it never occurred, and Mikey finally had the guts to go for himself.

Thoughtlessly, Michelangelo was beginning to regret the idea. The icy winds of the somber night were starting to get to him and his muscles caved into unintentional shivering. Only being out for a good short thirty minute, Mike turned to a second thought. Maybe he should've paid more attention to his brother's cautions.

― But Donnie…

Even if he did find his brother, he would already be too frostbitten, too cold, to fight for his freedom. He was about to turn back in defeat. His thoughts now pointed him home― but then a scream.

"Huh―!" At first, he thought he was imagining it, daunting his ears clear to assure himself he wasn't just feverish from his unnatural weather condition. But when numerous cries, sprouted by several people followed, his suspicions were confirmed.

Mike let his non-bearing imagination run to conclusions.

Thugs? He guessed. Gunman? A possibility. Killer Mutant Chicken Nugget with Laser Fingers? Well it was nothing out of the ordinary for his standards. He turned to his heels and followed the noise, using the snow tainted rooftops as his own makeshift runway. He didn't look back― he didn't flinch― despite how rough the thicket of wind blew on his cheeks. As he was certain that he reached his destination, he was quick to look on instant, and he wished he hadn't been.

His heart skipped a beat.

Oh my god, that can't be him… Michelangelo thought, and he leaned forward to get a better look. He gazed down on the colorful streets of Christmas lights, cars coated with light blankets of snow on their hoods, he saw his brother.

His missing brother, in the middle of the street.

"Donnie―" Mikey gasped out, reeling away from the ledge with a small fumble of his footing. He needed to get down there. Now. Mikey placed his hand on his belt pocket, immediately ready to speed dial that he found their missing brother, but all Mike felt was the icy air.

"The one time I forget my phone, and I need it…" Mikey rolled his eyes at himself, annoyed. He usually brings everything with him before going on patrol, but this was a last-minute thing.