A Rat in the Sewer

Summary: Dr. Falco is alive, and prepared for his own retribution. He has a plan to rip the turtles out of the sewer by their roots – and slowly, the pieces are coming together.

Chapter One: Infestation

Dr. Falco's damaged skin was burlap, drumming his fingers together idly while he thought. Murky shadows smeared across his face, highlighting the torched features and allowing his crimson eyes to glow in the darkness with an uneven hue. His face was contorted further by the intense focus wracking his expression, his mind preoccupied with an intense hatred. The main concentration of his disgust was, naturally, the turtles. They had ruined everything for him, and had experienced little consequence to their actions. His loathing for them was graceful, almost, in the way it intertwined itself to his every thought, like some twisted dance that constantly twirled in his mind.

Most men, at this point, would have come to the conclusion that giving up was the only option left - but he had always considered himself a man of patience and determination. In fact, if anything, the recent defeat had only furthered his resolve. He would get his revenge, and the turtles would suffer at his hand. He would personally rip their screams from their throats, make them experience and endure a pain equivalent to his own. He smiled at the thought of dissecting them, wielding a scalpel and slicing them apart, one by one.

Yet, the latest wound sat painfully on his mind. They'd still managed to beat him, wriggling out of fate's hand like water in a clenched fist. Justice had been evaded that day, and the promise revenge had betrayed him. He'd literally had their master at his side, and they'd gotten away.

He felt anger curdle his blood into a boiling slush, just at the thought of it – he'd been so close. Splinter's blade had nearly struck Leonardo down, but then the brothers had tackled him working together and breaking the rat out from under Falco's telepathic grip.

Suddenly inspiration struck, cracking a smile across Falco's face like a shattering glass - that was it. He'd had their master under control, but they'd still had each other. The solution was painfully obvious. He needed to separate the turtles at their core – he supposed that if he could manage to take down just one, the whole team would come crashing to its knees. And he knew just the one.

Donatello – that was the one he hated more than any of them. Even at the thought of his name, anger nibbled on his mind like the rats gnawed at his cloak, and his fists clenched.

Literally without even thinking, he'd taken down years of study and months of careful planning. Within the span of a few seconds, the young genius had ripped away from Falco an entire future, setting the groundwork of his plans to flame without a single thought. In a single night, he had dismantled years of meticulous research and careful preparation - literally without even thinking, he'd beaten Falco at his own game.

He wanted to make him suffer, to make him and his brothers feel pain equivalent to his own.

A plan was blooming in his brain like a flower snagged in thorns, nurtured by seeds of abhorrence and nourished with the promise of retribution.

Carefully, Falco stood up, raising his hands to his temples as he braced himself for mental exhaustion as he tested out his telepathic abilities – sure enough, he felt the mental hums coming from fifteen or so rats. He kept his influence close at hand, not wanting to alert Splinter's wary mind to his plans. The mutant rat was why he had been reluctant to push out too many orders to his furry servants. But the days of his hiding were coming to an end.

"To me, my brothers," He mentally whispered to the rats in his range, "I am in need of you."

Within the span of minutes, he was surrounded by eighteen rats that had scurried over and lined up in front of him. Curious, beady, black eyes glittered up at him, squeaks hammering against his ears like the inflection of music.

"Very good, my sons and daughters," Falco praised, his maddened grin widening to reveal his gravestone teeth, "You have done well, it's true. It was you who saved me from capture – and though that was not long ago, I am once more in need of your assistance."

Noses twitched at him, shrill chattering filling the air in what, to Falco's mind, sounded like confusion. To counter their befuddlement, he raised his arms out them in what he hoped was a comforting manner.

"I have a plan in place, one with which we will finally destroy the turtles. But first, brothers, you must aid me. Find the turtle's lair, locate Donatello, and then report back to me. You will be my eyes and ears, my precious brothers," His eyes glowed in anticipation, "Now, be on your way!"

Orders given, the rats turned, racing down the maze of the sewer passages they knew so well.

Pleased with himself, the scientist cracked his knuckles before climbing back up into the unused sewage pipe he'd woken up in weeks before. His bones cracked and shuddered like worn-out gears as he bent his body back up to fit. Still, not even the biting chill of the cold metal could dampen his spirits, and his teeth clicked together menacingly in delight.

"Enjoy your will while it is still your own, turtles," Falco murmured to himself quietly, an insane tint to his smile.

The recent infestation of rats was annoying, to say the least. The turtles were used to a rat or two wandering into lair every once in a while – they lived in a sewer, and some things were simply unavoidable. However, the past week or so had been far past overkill. The furry little rodents were quite literally everywhere – Leo had been disappointed to find the cable cords to the television chewed through, Mikey had numerous indentions in his nunchucks that had been left by rat teeth, and Raph had found a rat banging mercilessly on Spike's shell as he tried to open it and find the turtle inside. Needless to say, all three of the brothers had been less than pleased.

Donatello hadn't been entirely delighted with the situation either – the rats had made a habit of gnawing away at his stray wires and circuit boards, which were hard to replace. Not only was that, but the added work load of repairing what the rodents dismantled starting to drive him up the wall.

All he could fathom was that after Falco had directed almost the entirety of the rat population into the sewers, they'd simply stayed. He felt almost sorry for them, but his pity was quickly running out as he painstakingly rearranged the wiring in the cable cord and fastened three layers of strong rubber wire tape over the exposed wiring, hopefully making it chew-proof.

Job done, he leaned back, wiping sweat from his forehead as he peered back from behind the television at Leo, who had his finger on the power button of the television.

"Okay Leo, try it out." Donnie said.

Pressing the button, the TV shot to life in a roar of static. The screen flickered a couple times, but then the picture cleared and the sound reoriented itself. Leo grinned, giving Don a thumbs-up.

"Great work, Donnie." Leo started to say, just before a rat skirted out from under the set in a mass of panicked squeaks, and his gaze flattened, "Geez, what are we going to do with all these rats?" he muttered, and Donnie shrugged.

"I heard Raph saying something about a new fireplace rug." The purple-banded turtle offered.

"Do we even have a fireplace?" Leo asked, a grin appearing on his face.

"Raph doesn't let facts get in the way of things," Donnie replied, mirroring the bemused expression on his brother's face.

Leo stood u, and offered his hand out to Donnie as he helped him to his feet, examining the television warily.

"That's the second time in the past three days you've had to patch that thing up," the leader stated with a frown, "This is getting ridiculous!"

Donnie nodded in agreement, "You know Mikey's actually started putting pizza in the fridge when he's done?"

Leo's mouth dropped open, "Really?"

"Yeah, he's tired of the rats finishing it off before he can."

Leo sighed, a feeling of defeat rolling over him briefly, "Wow, this infestation is getting serious if Mikey is willing to start picking up after himself."

"Yeah…You know, with some minor adjustments to the toaster, I think we could solve this problem in two days flat," Donnie mused, only half joking.

Leonardo crossed his arms at the quip though – for all his lighthearted teasing, he could tell Donnie was starting to get tired. Not that it was all that surprising. Their resident genius hardly slept as it was, always tinkering around on the computer or working on the Shellraiser – but with the recent onslaught of rodents, Donnie had been pushed into overdrive with an extra amount of work added to his plate. He'd been unintentionally assigned to fixing a majority of what the rats chewed up; and frankly, there wasn't much Leo could do to lift the burden from Donnie's shoulders. He worked like a horse anyway, and no one else was entirely equipped to rewire the electricity, fix the toaster, or anything else Donatello had taken upon himself to do. Still, Leo didn't like the dark rings that were starting to appear under his younger brother's eyes.

At the same time, if he questioned Donnie on it, he would deny that the extra workload was getting to him. In fact, he might even push himself harder to prove just how fine he was, and Leo wasn't prepared to deal with that on top of everything else.

The mental back-and-forth had caused him to pause for a bit longer than usual, he noticed Donnie looking at him curiously as he waited for a response.

"Er, one thing at a time," Leo responded, "Has April gotten those mouse traps for you yet?"

Donnie nodded, rolling up the electrical tape to be used again as he turned back to the TV, "Yeah, Raph and Mikey are setting them up right now, I think-"

"OW!" A scream jutted out unexpectedly, causing both brothers to jump. Startled, Leo turned around to see Raph walking into the room with a barely contained smirk on his face. Right behind him, Mikey walked in, his index finger hidden in his mouth and a pained expression on his face. Both of them took a seat on the couch facing the television.

"What happened to you?" Leo asked, gesturing to Mikey who still appeared to be nursing the wound.

"Got his finger stuck in a mouse trap." Raph responded immediately, and managed to maintain his composure for almost three seconds before erupting into a fit of giggles. Mikey glared at him, punching his older brother with his uninjured hand.

"Ift's notff funny!" Mikey interjected lamely, finger still rolled into his mouth.

"You're right," Raph laughed excitedly, "It's hilarious!"

Leo couldn't help but smile as Mikey pulled his hand out of his mouth long enough to stick his tongue out at Raph before replacing the injured in its hiding spot.

Donnie chuckled, shaking his head before standing up, the tool kit he'd brought over fully packed and latched in his hand.

"If you guys need me, I'll be in the lab," The tallest turtle excused himself, leaving Raph and Mikey to fight amongst themselves.

Leo checked the clock on the lairs wall – he was surprised to see it'd gotten so late, and then turned back to Donnie, "Try to get some sleep tonight, Donnie!" he called after him.

The purple-masked ninja threw a nonchalant wave over his shoulder, "Right, Leo."

Leo frowned, knowing that the tone his brother had just used was a language all its own – one that basically said "I will be staying up all night and passing out in front of my laptop. G' night".

Swallowing his sigh of frustration, he pinched the bridge of his nose and then turned back to his quarrelling brothers.

"Alright guys – bed, now."

At least he could force two of his three brothers to see reason – or at least, give them something to do aside from kill each other. Well, keep Raph from killing Mikey, who had pulled out a water-balloon from who-knows-where and subsequently drenched the red-banded turtle.

Pulling Raph back away from his younger brother by the shell, Leo walked Raph to his room, discussing the immoral implications of feeding "Mikey-kabobs" to the rats.

From somewhere farther down the sewer, past a dozen twists and turns, Falco licked his distorted teeth in what may have been glee. His rat servants had just reported the state of the turtle's lair – absolute chaos was the state of things, it sounded. Being the rats they were, his brothers had chewed and weaseled their way into almost every space in the turtle's home – including Donatello's lab.

The reports of the condition of the turtles was even more pleasing than the apparent disarray of their homes. While the attempts to clear out the rats had worn down all four of the turtles, Falco was pleased to hear his assumption had been right – most of the technical work had been left to Donatello to take care of, and it was starting to wear him out. Which was exactly the plan.

It should only take a day or two more, and the brilliant ninja would be too exhausted to defend against a mental offence. Especially since Falco would more than likely catch him off guard, the sleep-deprived turtle's mind would be his for the taking. Then the rest of the pieces would fall perfectly into place, dominos tipping over one at a time.

And then his long-sought revenge would be received.

Author's Note:

Hey guys! This should be updated every 2 or 3 days! This is my first TMNT multi-chapter fic, so please let me know if I should continue. Thanks for reading, hope you liked it!