Raphael returned home and stood in shock the moment he opened the door. The small apartment that he was sharing with Michelangelo was cleaned out. He walked around to see that there was nothing left, he took everything. “That little shit,” Raph breathed.
He took a step forward and stepped on something. He lifted his foot to see a match box. Raph’s mind flashed back to when he first met Mikey.
The sea-green turtle was working at Donatello’s bar one night and was trying to light a wick, but his matches wouldn’t light. So Raph cantered up behind him and pulled out his box and lit it for him.
Their eyes locked and a sweet smile spread across Mikey’s face, “Thank you, stranger.”
“Happy to help a sweet little thing like you,” Raph grinned.
Mikey giggled, “What’s your name?”
“Raphael,” Raph whispered.
Mikey’s eyes went wide, “Your wanted posters don’t do you any justice.”
“What’s your name?” Raph pushed in closer.
“Michelangelo,” Mikey blushed.
“What are you doin’ after you get off?” Raph husked.
“I’m hopin to spend time with you,” Mikey flirted back.
They had gone to Mikey’s small apartment that night and every night after that. Raph even hid his stash in the little apartment and the two of them would spend hours talking about how they would spend it. They were going to leave this town together and start a small farm to live an honest life.
But Raph had one last heist that he wanted to do before settling down. Mikey didn’t like that he was going with Leo to rob the train, but Raph had promised Leo that he would help him and even though he was a thief, he had honor.
They managed to get back to town early with their haul and Raph was going to surprise Mikey with a nice dinner. Only Mikey wasn’t there and neither was his stash. “He played me,” Raph grunted. His eyes stung with the tears he refused to cry. “I’ll teach him.” Raph picked up the box of matches and headed for the bar.
Donatello stood behind the counter and smiled as Raph walked up, “Hey there.”
“Fuck you,” Raph snapped. “Where’s Mike?”
Donnie looked confused, “He quit a few days ago.”
“Where is he?” Raph growled.
“I don’t know,” Donnie shook his head. “He said he was leaving town, but didn’t say where. I thought he was leaving with you.”
“Well you thought wrong,” Raph answered. “Give me a drink.”
“Yeah, sure,” Donnie grabbed a bottle of whisky.
Raph sat at the bar nursing the bottle while striking the matches and letting them burn down to his fingers. “A lot of good memories at this place,” Raph mumbled.
He heard some thugs laughing behind him and swore that he heard them mention his name. They knew what Mikey did to him and were are laughing about it.
“I’ll so them,” Raph growled and poured the whisky on the bar. He struck the last match in the box and touched it to the liquid and it ignited. He stood and, putting on his hat, slowly made his way out of the bar.
The drunkards inside didn’t realize right away what he had done and he was safely out of the door before they did. Small explosions erupted when the flames reached the intoxicating liquid under the counter.
Donatello came running out of his bar screaming, “Are you nuts?” Others joined him and several of the men wrestled Raph to the ground.
“I don’t care anymore,” Raph grunted. “Nothing matters.”
Fueled by the alcohol, the bar burned fast and they all stood by unable to do anything to stop it.
The sheriff walked up and grabbed Raph by the carapace, “I’ve been looking for something to pin on you, boy.” Raph was hauled up on his feet.
“Raph!” yelled a voice in the distance. He turned to see Mikey running up to him. “What happened?” Mikey panted when he got close.
“All you left me was the matches,” Raph answered flatly.
“What?” Mikey breathed.
“Why did you do it?” Raph fought back the tears. “I thought we had something.”
“You weren’t due back ‘til tomorrow,” Mikey sobbed.
“You took everything!” Raph yelled.
“Yeah,” Mikey cried “to our new farm house. It was supposed to be a surprise. I was going to take you there when you got back.”
Raph finally let himself cry as the sheriff dragged him to jail.
