Because You Weren't There

Chapter 2 - Up on the Rooftop. Click, Click, Click.

*Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles franchise, 'It's a Wonderful Life', or 'The Greatest Gift.'

*Author's Notes: I'm back with chapter 2 of 'Because You Weren't There' and this one has a little bit of everything. There's some humor, angst, suspense, drama, and perhaps most importantly, Sassatello. XD

Thank you all so much for the overwhelming response to the first chapter. I can't even begin to tell you how extremely grateful I am to all my readers, friends, and followers. It's such a tremendous blessing to have so many amazing people supporting me. :'}

Okay, I'm getting overly mushy here, so I'd better jump right into the chapter. I really hope everyone enjoys it. Thank you for reading. ;) CJ

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Chapter 2 - Up on the Rooftop. Click, Click, Click.

It feels as if my heart's about to leap right out of my plastron and leave me for dead, which is a rather unsettling thought.

Even my own internal organs aren't willing to support me in my time of need.

Not that that should be my biggest concern given my present situation . . .

I mean, I'm currently being held up so that my feet are dangling about six inches above the rooftop by some total stranger that looks to be around two to three inches taller than me and at least fifty pounds heavier.

Yeah. That's probably where my focus should be lying right about now . . .

For reasons I can't really explain, I seem to have momentarily forgotten that I'm a highly trained ninja. I just hang here, limp in the large man's iron grasp, like my muscles are frozen or something.

After several long moments of staring at the human in a hypnotic state, I finally find my voice. Although it comes out in a shrill, almost girly tone that no living being would ever take seriously.

"L - Let me go!"

Much to my surprise, the man immediately obliges and sets me back down on the rooftop, gently of all things.

More than just a little confused by the man's actions, I take several giant steps backwards, being careful not to slip and make a fool out of myself again.

When I feel I've put a safe bit of distance between us, I reach for my trusty bo-staff and assume a defensive stance. Just having my weapon out in front of me instantly makes me feel about ninety-seven percent more confident than I did mere seconds ago. It's a security blanket kind of thing.

"Who - Who are you and what do you want?" Okay, that didn't quite sound ninety-seven percent more confident now, did it?

Way to intimidate the guy, Donatello. I'm sure he's shaking in his boots.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to frighten you. I was just trying to help you." The man holds his hands up in front of himself to presumably show truce. He doesn't exactly look like a threat. More like somebody's harmless, rather rotund, middle-aged uncle, but that doesn't lessen my defenses any.

"Yeah, well you certainly could've - Wait! Why aren't you running away screaming?" The sudden realization probably should've occurred to me before. This guy doesn't look the least bit surprised by the fact that I'm an oversized, talking turtle. This leads me to deduce that he's either previously seen me or one of my brothers, or he's a tad on the crazy side.

Maybe it's a little bit of both . . .

I can't help but notice this guy bears a slight resemblance to 'The Pulverizer.' Well, a noticeably older version of him, minus the goofy costume. Not that I'm saying the man looks like a doofus (Master Splinter's word, not mine). I mean, I'm not trying to insult the guy or anything. It's just that he looks a little like Timothy is all. Not that that's a bad thing. There are a lot worse -