Grandfather's Hero
Remember how I said Massy was extremely close with his grandfather? :3
Sometimes, at night, Massy would wake up without any reason. Usually, he would sleep through the night. He would be wrapped up safe in his bed, safe and sound. But like all minds, sometimes his liked to play little tricks on him. That’s how the young turtle found himself sitting up in bed. Sweat covered his body and tears brimmed his eyes as they threatened to spill.
Massy didn’t remember his dream. Nothing was visual enough to point out, to describe what monster was haunting his young mind. There were no sounds, no little whispers that raised goosebumps along his arms.
All he could recall was the feeling. His heart felt tired from how hard it was pumping, his lungs ached from his heavy breathing. Fear, he knew what that was. These nightmares weren’t uncommon in his small little life. There was always a hidden something in the back of his mind that kept trying to make itself known. A lingering figure that he couldn’t remember that haunted him and dragged him back to that place once again.
The young mutant pulled his knees to his chest, soft sobs escaping his throat. Massy’s fingers trembled as he pulled his comfort blanket up around his shoulders. He was scared and he couldn’t even find the threat, he didn’t even know if there was a real threat.
Usually, dad would rationalize with him. “Dinosaurs are extinct, how could one chase you, baby?” But how do you rationalize the unknown? It was too much, too much for him at least, but dad would know. Dad always had the answers.
His eyes flickered over to the door to his room, his small hand coming up to rub the tears from his chubby cheeks. The light filtered in from the hallway, low enough to not disturb the darkness of the room but enough to banish away the monsters. Dad is just down the hall, his door is always open.
Massy slowly pushed himself off the bed, dragging his small orange blanket along with him. His small feet lightly patted against the floor, crossing the dark obstacle course of scattered books and toys. The small child slipped through the crack of the door and found himself in the low light of the hall.
He could hear the soft sound of a TV down towards the living room, but Massy turned the other way. He stayed close to the wall, following the small crack that led the way down to the tunnel entrance. Saying his dad’s door was always open was incorrect, because that implied that his father even had a door. Nope! Nothing but a long, maroon curtain hung over the circular door frame.
Massy’s small hand reached out, grabbing the curtain to pull it aside in order to pull the fabric aside. He peeked around- Usually at least a small candle would be burning over beside the bed. His dad always said he didn’t like the dark. Massy didn’t either.
But the room was dark. Empty. Devoid of any life and simply just his father’s belongings.
This.. Was new.
Not unexpected, but still new.
Dad said he was going to start paw trolling at night with his brothers again, he said that papa Splinter would be watching him at night but he wouldn’t even notice. Massy would be asleep, he clearly wouldn’t know his father left.
Massy trembled, his fingers gripping the curtain fabric. His tears started to roll again and he fell down onto his rear, legs splaying out in front of him as a loud wail ripped from his throat.
He wanted his dad. This wasn’t fair! He needed his father and he wasn’t there! He was gone! It hurt, almost physically. His feelings were so big but his body was just so small. How was he supposed to contain it all?
Quick footsteps rushed down the hallway behind him, followed by ragged panting.
“Young Masaccio, what in heaven's name are you doing out of bed?” A voice panicked as it got closer, clawed hands coming out to carefully grab his arms.
Massy is lifted up from the ground, his arms wrapping around the furry body as he sobbed. Short, unfulfilling breaths become muffled. His voice reduced to nothing but nonsensical babbling as he tried to get his feelings out.
“Young one, I cannot understand you when you are in hysterics,”
Massy pulled his head away to look up at his papa, the rat looking back with concern.
“You do not have to speak, just move your head, do you understand?” Splinter asked softly.
Massy nodded his head, sniffling.
“Okay.. Now, are you hurt? Boo boos?” Splinter asked, and as he did, his eyes started to track over the child’s body for any obvious sign of injury.
Massy quickly shook his head, then he turned his head back to the door, pointing to the curtain that had now fallen back down into its normal position.
“Oh, do you miss your father?”
Massy whined, nodding his head. Splinter hummed thoughtfully as he started to walk. He kept the child on his hip, his clawed fingers lightly rubbing the carapace. Massy’s eyes stayed locked onto the curtain. Even as Splinter turned the corner and it fell out of view.
His arms tightened around Splinter, the coarse fur pressing into his face. His eyes squeezed shut, hiding him from the world. Splinter moved to sit in his old recliner- and it was old. Dad once told him that it was older than dirt. Massy didn’t know how old dirt was, but it seemed like a lot.
“You know where your father is, right?” Splinter asked as he settled in. He pushed the turtle away, just enough so Massy couldn’t hide anymore.
“Daddy said he was paw trolling…” Massy muttered as his body curled up against the arm of the chair. His tears started to dry, but the pout stayed stagnant on his face as Splinter started to laugh.
“I believe you mean patrolling, young one!” Splinter barked out between laughs, shaking his head, “Patrolling means he’s out looking for trouble. He’s out there trying to stop the bad guys.”
Massy lifted his head from the armchair with confusion. His previous fears were set aside for the moment as he looked up at his grandfather.
“Like.. Like a superhero..?”
“Not like, he is a superhero!”
Massy’s eyes widened. He knew about superheroes. Recently, it’s become a habit to lay on Uncle Leo’s shell and look at the cool pictures in his comic books. Usually, Uncle Leo would read the words to him.
But his dad? His dad? How could he not know??
“Is that why he is always sp.. Sparring..?” Massy questioned.
He knew his dad and uncles enjoyed playing rough together. They would go into the dojo- Where Massy was not allowed to go- and would fight each other.
Dad always said it was for fun!
“Yes, I raised your father and his siblings from a young age to fight battles. To protect themselves, to protect others.” Splinter explained. Massy stared at him for a long moment, the gears in his mind starting to turn slowly.
“And daddy is good at fighting..” Massy muttered.
“Your father is a natural,” Splinter responded.
Massy frowned some, his arms crossing over his chest. His fingers fiddled with the light blue fins that contrasted heavily against his darkened green skin.
Dad always felt so safe, and maybe that’s why. Maybe because he’s a superhero. Massy’s gaze turned down to his hands.
“... I wish I was strong like daddy..” Massy admitted softly. Instead of being scared and hiding, he could beat up the scary things! He could keep himself safe, he wouldn’t have to wait for his dad to come save him. Wouldn’t have to waste the time.
“You could be,”
“WHAT?”
Suddenly, Massy pushed himself into Splinter’s face. His bright yellow eyes staring up at the elder. Splinter’s eyes widened, chuckling softly as he gently pushed his grandson back once again.
“Did you not hear the part where I said I raised your father?” Splinter questioned. With careful hands, he lifted the child off his lap and gently dropped him to the floor. Massy stumbled for a moment, but caught himself before he could fall.
“If I raised your father to be a fighter, I’m certain I can train you as well. Come with me,” Splinter gestured with his hand as he pushed himself off the recliner. The chair creaked as it rocked back and forth with the loss of weight.
Splinter started to walk down another hall- One that Massy rarely ventured down. Once, Massy was allowed to bring cookies to Uncle Donnie as they worked on the giant turtle tank. But he knew further down the hall was the Dojo. He was not allowed down there…
But sometimes he snuck on down and watched his family sparring. He remembers peeking through the curtain and watching the flash of colors. Orange, red, blue, and purple. All dashing through his vision with a speed he couldn’t even imagine for himself.
One day, he would be just like them.
But that meant taking the first steps. Massy raced down the hall after his grandfather, his blanket left on the chair and a bright grin gleaming from his teeth. He pushed past Splinter in order to push the old, rickety shoji doors to reveal the large dojo.
He ran to the center of the room, his feet slapping against the hardwood floor. The lights clicked on as Splinter entered and Massy’s eyes widened with delight. Weapons lined the walls, mats were rolled up and out of the way. Big humanoid dolls were placed sporadically, not fully cleaned up since the last they were used.
Splinter made his way to the center of the room, cracking his knuckles.
“Let’s start with something simple, try to land a hit on me,” Splinter said as he placed his hands on his hips. Massy’s eyes widened as he looked up at the rat. Immediately he pulled his hands to his chest, fidgeting with the small digits.
“Daddy said hitting is bad-”
“Hitting is bad, which is why you need to learn when it is appropriate. Such as, when I instruct you to hit me,” Splinter stated.
Massy’s brow ridge scrunched up before he held his arm back. With an open palm, he swung his arm out wide to the side, smacking his hand down on Splinter’s stomach. The rat didn’t even flinch, in fact, he seemed disappointed.
“Now, what was that?” Splinter asked as Massy pouted.
“I hit you.”
“No, you flailed. Here’s how you really throw a punch..”
And just like that, Splinter walked over to one of the large dummies and through a punch. His form was loose, but his feet were planted. His movements followed the motion. Massy cocked his head to the side- But it seemed to be the superior method. The mannequin flew across the room and slammed into the wall, teetering on its pedestal for a moment before it crashed down to the floor.
Massy’s eyes widened, then his hands started to flap quickly as he bounced up and down.
He raced up to another one, planted his feet on the floor, and threw a punch. There was a small thud, but the dummy was still stagnant in one spot. In contrast, Massy was sprawled out on the floor. He had tried to be fluid- But he ended up just throwing himself to the ground. He looked to Splinter with worry, but the rat just laughed.
He laughed, and Massy followed along with his own bubbly giggles. He pushed himself up from the ground.
That’s how their night continued. They were just working on punches, and not even a fancy punch like Massy had seen Uncle Raph do once upon a time.
Massy was laughing, his fears beforehand were long since forgotten as his mind focused on this. This punch, that punch, a swing and a miss, a tumble, a scraped knee.
The once empty dojo was filled to the brim with thuds and laughter and encouragement. And he was learning quite fast. He wasn’t hitting like Papa Splinter was, he couldn’t slam a dummy back towards the other side of the room.
But he could hit them, he could make them teeter. Splinter said it was fine, he was just a kid. This was his first time hitting anything! And Massy trusted that. Especially because Papa was so old! Massy found himself growing tired, but once again, he found himself standing in front of Splinter.
“Try to land a hit on me,” Splinter instructed.
Massy found himself planting his feet once again, his knees bent as he focused on his target. His fist clenched and he shot forward, flowing with the motion of his swing and landing a solid punch in Splinter’s gut.
The elderly rat grunted, curling forward as his arms wrapped around his abdomen.
Massy’s eyes widened and he retracted his hands quickly, “I’m sorry! I’m sorry-”
Splinter lifted his hand up and shook his head. He lifted his head to smirk at Massy.
“That was a great hit, Young Masaccio,” Splinter stated, slowly straightening back up. His hand landed on Massy’s head, “You’ll be a great fighter..”
Massy beamed, bouncing on his feet.
“Massy?!”
The shoji door suddenly slammed open and Massy turned his head to see his father, his chest rising and falling quickly as he panted.
“Daddy!” Massy shouted as he turned on his heel and raced over to his father. Mikey was quick to cross the floor and scoop his son up into his arms, holding him close. Close up, Massy could smell smoke along his father’s cloak. Looking down at the fringes, noting the burnt up ends.
“What are you doing in here? You know you’re not allowed,” Mikey said as his hand cupped Massy’s cheek. Massy grinned.
“Papa was teaching me to be a hero just like you!”
And Mikey’s eyes widened.
Massy didn’t like that look. He didn’t have the words to describe it, but he did know that his stomach sank. Mikey slowly looked to Splinter, who didn’t seem to be bothered in the slightest.
“Massy, go back to your room,” Mikey said softly, slowly letting his son back to the ground. Massy hesitated, looking up at Mikey.
“But dad-”
“I will be there soon to tuck you in, Massy, please. I need to talk to your grandfather.”
Massy slowly turned his head to shoot Splinter a glance. The rat nodded his head, and Massy let out a soft sight.
“Goodnight Papa..” Massy said softly as his feet pattered over towards the door. As he hit the hallway, he caught sight of his uncles. Uncle Raph and Uncle Leo were discussing something, he didn’t understand the words. But Uncle Leo had his fingers pinching his chin. His eyebrows were scrunched together. Uncle Raph looked concerned, his hand on Uncle Leo’s shoulders and speaking lowly to him. Uncle Donnie was off on their own. They just seemed irritated, stalking off to their lab.
But then he heard the low speaking in the dojo.
“Dad, I said I didn’t want Massy learning to fight..”
“Which is ridiculous.”
“He’s too young!” Mikey argued. Massy peeked his head around the shoji door. Mikey’s hands were up in his hair, he looked frustrated.
“He’s no younger than you were!” Splinter retorted.
“I was too young!”
Silence hung in the air for a moment, the two adults staring each other down.
“It’s too dangerous, I don’t want him to do what I do.” Mikey’s shoulder’s fell as his arms dropped to his sides.
“It’s too dangerous to leave him defenseless, Michelangelo.” Splinter’s hand came up to rest on Mikey’s arm, squeezing gently. “The world we live in is dangerous, you need to give him the tools he needs to be safe.”
Mikey slowly shook his head, “I don’t want him to get hurt..”
“... He’s just like you,”
“What?” Mikey moved into a crouch to be eye to eye with his father. Splinter nodded, lightly petting the old wrappings around his son’s forearm.
“Young Masaccio.. Fighting comes naturally to him, just like it did to you,”
Mikey laughs, and it’s wet.
“Of course he does..”
“That’s enough, you little eavesdropper!” A whispered shout precedes the large hands that pluck Massy up from the ground. He squeaks, looking up to see his Uncle Leo. His previous contemplation was replaced with a relaxed grin.
“I was not dropping anything,” Massy complained as he was tucked under Uncle Leo’s arm, the large slider making his way down the hall and towards his bedroom.
“No, but you were listening to conversations that don’t involve you,” Leo argued, lightly shaking the child. Massy laughed, kicking his legs.
“It was about me!” Massy laughed, the sound kicking up as Leo’s fingers tickled his feet.
“That doesn’t mean you have to hear it, nosey! Come on, let’s get you in bed before your dad has another heart attack,” Leo joked.
“Another??”
“Another!”
Leo brought Massy to his room, dropping the child down onto his bed. Massy complained he wasn’t tired, he didn’t want to go to bed. He wanted to stay up with everyone else! But as Leo started to babble about something, Massy found his eyes drifting shut.
He doesn’t remember Uncle Leo leaving, he only vaguely remembers hearing “I love you, son,” as his orange blanket was laid across his body and tucked around him. But that was it.
As morning came, Massy found his body feeling stiff and angry. His arms hurt! With a grunt, he pushed himself out of bed. He stumbled, everything felt heavy, but he stumbled his way out of his room.
The lair was louder than it was the night before. Distantly, Massy could hear the muffled music from his uncle’s lab. But what drew his attention was the movement down in the kitchen- along with the smell of waffles.
Massy made his way to the kitchen, his eyes lit up as he saw his father using scissors to cut waffles into sticks- his favorite.
“Oh! Hey, my little planet,” Mikey grinned as he moved a plate to the table, along with a tiny cup of syrup, “I was about to come wake you up, I made waffle sticks,”
Despite the ache in his arms, Massy rushed over to the table and pulled himself up into his chair, his eyes wide as he looked down at the plate.
Mikey smiled, patting Massy’s head. “Are you going to have a good day?”
As he asked, Mikey walked back over to the counter in order to start the clean up process. Massy nodded his head, grabbing one of his waffle sticks and dipping it in the syrup. His eyes tracked the syrup excitedly as it dripped down into the bowl. Then, he stuffed it into his mouth.
“Good, because I was going to have Uncle Donnie get the old Jupiter Jim movies out.” Mikey said from his spot at the sink. Massy’s eyes widened and he grinned, mouth full of waffle and all.
“Mikey! Come check this out!”
Uncle Raph’s voice echoed from the living room. Mikey paused, then looked to Massy, “Are you going to be okay here for a second?”
“Yeah, I’ll be fine,” Massy responded as he stuffed another waffle stick into his mouth. Mikey quietly left the room, leaving his child to eat his breakfast. Massy hummed, lightly kicking his feet as he chewed.
Massy’s mind wandered to the night before, thinking about the time he spent with his grandfather… He hoped Papa wasn’t in trouble. He was just trying to train Massy, it’s not his fault. It was hard to tell what the outcome was, he could barely remember that time before he fell asleep.
He also hoped that he could do it again. Dad said no but… Massy had fun. And wasn’t that all that mattered?
“Young Masaccio,” Massy looked up to see his aforementioned Grandfather standing there. He looked around quickly, trying to figure out where he came from. Ohmigosh.. Did he summon his Papa? Was he a magician?
“I brought you something, close your eyes,”
Massy arched his brow ridge but closed his eyes. There was shuffling before something wrapped around his face. Massy whined, opening his eyes before Splinter could instruct him too. He reached up, with his clean hand, to touch the black mask that was now wrapped around his eyes.
Just like Uncle Raph.
He gasped loudly, nearly choking on his food before he swallowed.
“There, now you can train like a proper hero,” Splinter spoke softly, a small smile on his lips. Massy grinned, even as the mask fell down his face. “Ah! Seems like you’re still too little..”
Splinter pulled the fabric from his face, gesturing for Massy to lift his arms. Massy followed suit, cocking his head to the side as the fabric was wrapped around his shell.
“You’ll grow into it, all heroes do,” Splinter decided. The rat pinched the tip of his snout before he disappeared, just as suddenly as he had appeared in that kitchen. Massy’s fingers trailed over his new black mask.
Now, one day, he would be just like his dad.