In this story, the boys are older, in the 18-20 range. This is a new universe I'm writing in, and it's a lot darker and bloodier. Rated M for language and sexual references. Please let me know if you enjoy it!

It's past midnight and Don's sitting on a stool at his workbench. There are wires of varying sizes spread out in front of him, and his tray of tools is within reach. He's got part of a Kraang computer in his hand. He turns the hunk of metal and wire over, examining the jagged and broken edges. There's information in there, he knows it. It would help if he could just pull the damn thing apart but Kraang tech is so metallo-organic in nature that he'd need surgical tools to do it effectively. Easier to just figure out how to listen in, and he's learned a few tricks over the years.

Now he just needs something running in the background. It keeps his mind from wandering too far when he's stuck, and it's company, in a weird way. He flicks through his folder of pirated movies, passing over the action flicks that his brothers love. He spots a familiar title. Emmaline. It's in French, which he doesn't speak, and has no subtitles, but he's watched this one enough times to have drawn his own conclusions about the plot.

He presses play and reaches for the voltmeter. On the screen, Emmaline strolls through a field of long grass, her hands brushing the tops of the stems. The light shines through her sundress, outlining her figure in silhouette. It's a nice figure, the kind he likes, tits a nice size but not too big and a shapely ass. He lets one half of his brain enjoy the swing of her hips while the other half is assessing the available connections on his stolen Kraang hardware.

The door to his lab rumbles open behind him and he waits to see which brother has come into his space. Don doesn't remember when his lab became the place for midnight conversations, but somehow it has. Somehow in this last, horrible year, it has become the safe place for all of them at one time or another. Maybe because they've all spent so much time on the narrow infirmary bed. Maybe because it's his place, and he likes quiet, and calm.

"Hey, nice tits!" says Mikey's voice. He plants himself on a stool next to Don and leans on his arms. "What's this?"

On the screen, Emmaline's sundress is gone. She's running towards the camera, laughing, and the free movement of her breasts is hypnotic. "It's a movie. Emmaline," he says. They appreciate the jiggle of her breasts for a moment in companionable silence.

"Is this porn?" says Mikey.

"It's an arthouse movie." Don clips the shielding from a thin wire and attaches it to a seven-pin connector. Emmaline has reached a little boathouse on a lake now, and is joined by a man, also naked. One thing the French have over American porn, Don thinks, is that they pick leading men who don't look like gorillas.

"Nice ass," says Mikey, not defining whose ass he's appreciating.

Don catches the sideways glance but doesn't reply. He knows the remark would bother Raphael and Leo, though Leo would never admit it. But Don doesn't care either way what Mikey's preferences are. Besides, Mikey is a shit-stirrer. Half of what he says these days is just to get a reaction.

On the screen, Emmaline's companion has lifted her up onto a bench and is licking her pussy with slow, deliberate strokes.

Mikey snorts. "Dude, I think this is porn."

"It's French porn."

Mikey scrunches up his face. "Does that make it classier?"

"Maybe."

"What are they saying?" he asks, as Emmaline moans something in French.

"No idea." He plugs in the connector and checks it with the voltmeter. No reading. He pulls it out and scuffles through his tray.

"I killed a guy tonight."

That makes Don pause, mainly because it's something Raphael would normally say. He glances at Mikey. He doesn't look upset, only pensive. "Oh?" He finds the connector he wants and picks it up.

"Declan told me about this guy."

Declan is a name they've been hearing a lot of late, one of the mad coterie of skaters and taggers than make up Mikey's circle. They're all crazy as far as Don's concerned. Raphael hates them with a passion, even more so since the you show me yours and I'll show you mine incident in the ladies toilets at the Freak Club.

"He lives down the road from Declan's gran. Said he runs a puppy mill."

Of course, anything where animals were involved would be on Mikey's crusade list. Don wasn't sure how he got from puppy mill to murder though. "And?"

"So I went down there to take a look. You know what these places are like."

Not personally, but he'd heard enough from the 'Mikey Saves The Animal Kingdom' soapbox to get the idea. "Yeah."

Mikey doesn't say anything for a while. Don watches Emmaline giving her companion a blow job while he clips wire onto a new connector. Mikey's focussed on the screen, but Don's not sure if he's really seeing it. The scene changes to a department store. A different guy is slowly sliding Emmaline's pants off her hips.

"He had an incinerator in his backyard."

Ugh. Don's mind leaps ahead to unpleasant possibilities, but he lets Mikey go at his own pace.

"He was throwing in these puppies. Real tiny ones. I thought they must have died being born. But then I heard them squealing. They were alive. He just didn't want them."

Don puts down the connector and wire he is holding and focusses on Mikey. Mikey's face is serene, but Don suspects there is a lot going on beneath the surface. A year ago Mikey would have been crying. These days he only cries when he is trying to manipulate someone into doing what he wants.

"So I stabbed him in the guts and shoved his head in the incinerator."

Don winces internally. He doesn't like killing, personally, but understands. Mikey's gone to enough dark places for an eighteen year old. One more horror doesn't make much difference. And when it comes to animals Mikey is pretty unforgiving. Same with family.

"Then I called the ASPCA."

"You shouldn't have called anyone." Now he sounded like Leo.

"I was worried about the puppies."

"And now some poor ASPCA worker is going to come in and find a dead and half-burned corpse?"

Mikey's eyes widen and he looks away from the movie. "Oh shit, I didn't think about that." He actually looks guilty. And there's the paradox. Mikey the killer versus Mikey the carer. "I should pay for his counselling."

"Because we could afford that, even if it wasn't a dumb idea."

Mikey shrugs. Don picks up the discarded connector and attaches the wire. He plugs it in and checks for activity. Nothing.

"I didn't tell Declan that I killed him."

"Good idea. Don't tell anybody except us. We have enough mistrust to deal with, without adding violent and murderous to the list."

Mikey rests his chin on his hands. "Are we? Murderous?"

"You know we are. What's Raphael's current body count?"

"I don't know."

"Well, it's high. And Leo's blades have been red plenty of times."

"Do you think I shouldn't have killed him?"

"I didn't say that." He sighs and puts the voltmeter down. "I'm not Leo. I'm not going to moralise at you or talk about honour. You need to make your own choice whether you kill someone or not."

"Cassie calls me a hero." He sighs. "And then she usually kisses me. But Declan kisses better."

Don can't remember who Cassie is, or whether Mikey has even mentioned her before. On the monitor, Emmaline is walking through a park at night, wearing a white negligee. The breeze presses the sheer material against her body. Her nipples are rock hard and dark under the fabric. She leans against a tree and slides her hand between her legs.

Mikey sighs. "I'm so confused."

Don shrugs. "Mikey, nothing says that you have to pick one sex over the other. Do what works for you."

Mikey is silent for a moment. "I meant the movie plot."

Don glances sideways at him and Mikey's got that wicked grin going, the one that means you got punked.

"Get out, you ass."

Mikey's laughing now. "Sucker." He hops off the stool. "Thanks for the pep talk."

And now Don doesn't know if he means about the murder, or his sexual preferences. "Goodnight, Mikey."

"Night, Don. Enjoy your porno."