Disclaimer: Still don't own them.

Drip…

Drip…

Drip…

The rhythm of the sewers felt like a balm on the troubled mind that sought refuge among the dripping pipes and the shadows. A tiny body curled up on a ledge, knees pulled to chest, and tears threatening to spill any moment at the unfairness of it all. Unfairness. Never having his father's attention like he used to. Never being able to do what he wanted. Never being sure about anything like he had been only a year ago. It's just not fair!

The little six-year-old shivered as a drip landed squarely on his head. He had shown them, if they even missed him. He would show his family unfairness. If they ever looked for him, they'd never find him. He was going to go and be a superhero like Superman and then they would all see how wonderful he was but he would ignore them and they would wish that they had been more fair to him when they had the chance. Another droplet fell onto his head. He pulled his knees closer and tighter.

Splash!

The six-year-old's head spun in the direction of the sound. Were there monsters down here? If they caught him, would they eat him? Then he noticed how the dripping sounds echoed in the tunnels. Everything felt so empty, so lonely. The tears that had only threatened to fall earlier started spilling out in full force.

Suddenly, warm, strong arms lifted him up off of the cold bricks. The boy struggled a bit, but not very hard. The arms felt safe, somehow.

"Are-are you going to eat me?"

"No, kid, I ain't going to eat ya," a rough voice replied. "Now what're you doin' down here?"

"I'm running away to be a superhero! An' I'm not a kid. I'm Ryan!" the little one replied proudly. He tried to see who or what was holding him but in the darkness and through the blurriness of his tears, he could only make out a dim shape.

"I see. So, uh, Ryan, where do ya live?"

"Up there." The boy twisted so that he could point. In doing so, he felt the chest of the person holding him. It was hard like he was wearing a vest or something.

The person holding him snorted softly. "Gee really. Now, do ya know yer address?"

"But I don't wanna go home!" Ryan protested, squirming as hard as he could. He was not going to let this person take him back there. He was a bit surprised when the person set him down on the bricks.

"Kid, sorry, Ryan, why don'tcha want to go back? Don'tcha got a family?"

"Yeah, but they all suck." He flopped down and crossed his arms. "They don't love me like they used to now that he's there."

"Who's there?" The person sat down next to Ryan, barely making a sound.

"My stupid baby brother Michael. He's always getting all of Mom and Dad's attention and they don't let me do anything anymore."

The person started laughing, his rasping voice echoing throughout the tunnels.

"What?" Ryan demanded, sticking out his lower lip. "It's not funny!"

"Kid, I've got a baby bro who's sorta named Michael too, but we call him Mikey. He bugs the heck outa me sometimes, but if anyone tried to lay a hand on 'im, well let's just say that that person won't have a hand no more. Back when I was your age, I hated him 'cause I thought he always got all the attention, but he didn't really. I was just giving him all my own attention instead o' paying attention to myself. But y'know, I'd never let him get hurt. That's the job of us big brothers. We gotta look out for our baby bros, even when they're a pain. Sounds like my Mikey an' your Mikey are pretty similar. Trust me, it's great havin' a baby bro."

"Really?"

"Yeah, really. Now how 'bout we getcha back home, 'kay?"

"'Kay." Ryan heard the person stand up softly and felt himself get picked back up. Something didn't feel quite right about this person's body, but the child couldn't figure out what it was.

"You still have ta tell me where you live or I can't take ya there."

"I live above Billy's Groceries on the third floor."

"Okay. Hold on tight, kid." The person took off running down the sewer, the boy held safely in his arms. Ryan had never felt himself ever go that fast before. Every now and then, as they passed by a grate, small bits of light would shine behind the person's head, revealing it to be oddly shaped.

"I still want to be a superhero," Ryan suddenly piped up, snuggling closer into the person's hard chest.

"That's fine, Ryan, but the best way ya can be a superhero is takin' care of yer family. You've gotta protect 'em with everything you've got. They're the most important thing you've got. You've got to be Michael's superhero. Got it?"

"Yeah." The six-year-old grinned as the person with the gruff voice carried him up through an open manhole cover. The person set Ryan down onto the cement that lined the alleyway. At the other end, there was a door that led up to the apartments above the small grocery store. Delighted, the child turned around to thank his rescuer. In the dim light from a streetlight, Ryan could see the person's misshapen form clearly. His eyes opened wide and his mouth hung slightly open. "Are-are you a-a monster?"

Smiling sadly, the green creature knelt down before the child so that he was eyelevel with him. "Some people call me a monster. Now go, kid."

Ryan took a few steps towards the door, then stopped and looked back to the creature. "I don't think you're a monster. I think you're a superhero."

The green person stood back up, smiling softly. "Thanks. Now go on before I've gotta carry ya up there."

Ryan laughed and ran to the door. He turned around one last time to say thank you, but the green man was gone.

High above on a neighboring rooftop, Raphael stood, watching the little boy return home. After a moment, joyous cries came from inside the building. With the ease of much practice, the turtle started to run, leaping across the rooftops. Not a monster. Not a superhero. Just me. That's all that I am, kid.