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Chapter Text

16:45 EST

99th Brooklyn Precinct

8 MONTHS TO GO

"Squad," addressed Holt, professional and serious as ever, "what I'm about to tell you requires the highest level of security." at that point I was getting a bit worried, as I wouldn�t peg Captain Holt as a man to overestimate danger, ergo whatever has made him call us in was not a threat to be reckoned with.

"As a result of current events, One Police Plaza has decided to assign us a task force because our location is a strategic advantage." at this point I was getting hyped up. Like, REALLY hyped up. If he called me in here, then I must be in the task force. Who's going to lead it?

"I've picked you specifically to be part of said task force as I see you will be the most beneficial to the cause." as usual, the Captain was not emoting, not letting us into what this task force may be focused on, or why we were meeting in private. I'd noticed I was the last one called into his office and it did bother me a bit because he'd had a word with everyone else before that. Was he unsure of my skills? Did he think I was unfit for the task? I hope not. Either way, the team so far consisted of people I met quite recently - well, not too recently, it's been over a year now, but trust takes time - but from their career numbers I knew they were good cops.

There was Sergeant Jeffords - the precinct's momma hen, Detective Rosa Diaz - a resident badass and, as of late, my crush but she doesn't need to know that, and Detective Amy Santiago - who I genuinely found to be adorable, even if she was older than me. Next to Amy was Detective Charles Boyle - probably not the sharpest tool in the shed but for sure one of the most hardworking people I've met, and lastly, Detective Jake Peralta - I can't even try to encompass his entire personality in a couple of words, but, at his core, he is a giant goof but overall a good cop, even if he has his moments. And then there's me.

Basically all the detectives in the precinct aside from Hitchcock and Scully. To be honest, I don't even know their names they just collectively introduced themselves as "Hitchcock and Scully".

"You will be working closely with the Federal Bureau's Organized Crime unit." at that point you could hear everyone get a little bit excited, I myself was positively buzzing, "However, before I brief you on the details, you need to swear complete secrecy. Now, this task force is classified and requires high level of clearance so, naturally very few people will be cleared on the details." Okay, Captain Holt Boss-man, give me the case file, I need to know what it's all about.

Just as he took another breath to carry on, the door behind us opened and closed in a brisk manner, we all turned and saw a professionally-dressed woman with a dyed-blonde shoulder length hair and tired eyes. Someone hasn't slept in a while.

"Captain Holt!" she greeted with a nod before leveling her eyes to each and every one of us, "These are your people?" we were all quiet for what seemed like the longest time until the Captain announced:

"The finest in my precinct."

You could feel his quiet dignified pride as he said that. They had been through a lot to get to where we are. They deserved that title.

The woman seemed to approve of that as she gave a nod and went to stand next to the captain in front of us.

"Detectives!" she nodded our way in a similar way, and she seemed far too busy for greetings and formalities, "Bureau Chief Vincent, Organized Crime. We've got quite the unusual case on our hands." I think at that point we all kind of knew what this was about.

It was in reference to the time two weeks ago when the sky opened up and metal junk started floating over the city, there was this orb in the sky, that seemed very much ready to kill. No one knew what had happened but what we did know is that Organized Crime knew something about it - their squads were seen in formation in multiple odd locations all over the city. No one was killed luckily, but there was damage to the city and many unanswered questions.

What was that thing? Where did it come from? Why was it here? And why did it go away?

"Now, I trust you're all aware that none of what we say leaves the room. Only you, my squad and a select few civilians know of this. Any leaks will be prosecuted as treason."

"Okay, I'm starting to get a little nervous here." mumbled Jake, and yeah, I could agree, this is starting to sound a bit daunting.

Chief Vincent decided to ignore him - good call.

"In regards to what happened two weeks ago," I mean is anyone surprised? No. Were we a little anxious? Oh, you could SMELL our anxiety, "The truth is none of our forces were able to withstand what happened then and none of our well-trained officers were able to fight back against that thing in the sky. But there were four people who could."

"Were they superheroes? Ninjas? X-men?" Jake could no longer hold his excitement, he was just shaking and jumping up and down at this point, and his smile was very contagious.

We were gonna meet the people who saved the city! Are you kidding me, they must be total badasses! Absolute legends!

"Well, you're not completely wrong." Vincent sort-of-agreed.

Wait, what?!

"Wait, what?" buffered Peralta, obviously not expecting to have been right.

Chief Vincent and Captain Holt shared a look before our CO took charge again.

"The people who almost singlehandedly destroyed the invader are… unique..." he explained calmly, "and they value their privacy very much. In fact, this is why you were brought here."

"To meet them?" I ask enthusiastically, nearly bouncing on the balls of my feet.

I'm gonna be a part of a classified task force!? And was picked by Holt himself!? What!? I'm very proud of myself for managing to maintain somewhat of a professional profile that day.

"Not yet." informed Vincent. A wave of groans and Boyle's disappointed 'Oh man!' sounded at that, "You're here to make yourself acquainted with the idea of them."

Okay, but what the fuck?

Thoroughly confused at this point, I look around the room and see that the rest of the squad seems to know about as much as I do.

"As mentioned, they are quite extraordinary and it might take a while to come to terms with the idea."

"Just spit it out already!" grumbled Rosa, arms crossed over her chest, patience thinning by the second.

You go off, queen!

Chief Vincent looked at each of us as if looking for confirmation.

"They're giant turtles."

Silence.

Even Peralta didn't know if he should laugh or not. Which was saying something.

"Chief, what do you mean giant turtles?" asked Jeffords, trying and failing, like the rest of us, to make sense of the statement.

I would have assumed this was a prank initially but it wouldn't make sense. And this wasn't Holt's style. This must be some kind of

"I mean, exactly what I say, Detective-"

"Sargent." Terry informed.

"Sargent," repeated the blonde woman, "I realize how it sounds, and I understand it is a ridiculous thought to entertain but it is the truth."

Silence again.

And then laughter. Tear-jerking, tummy-tickling, embarrassingly-loud laughter. And then I realized it was me, but I couldn't stop it.

This must be a prank! I mean, four giant turtles running around the city and saving us from Aliens. Okay! Yeah! Sure!

"Do you find something funny, Detective?" asked Holt. I mean, what do I say to that. Of course I did.

I tried to take deep breaths, keep my laughter at bay, and when I'd finally regained my composure I wiped the tears from my eyes.

"N..n..no!" I stuttered unintelligibly, and just then I realized just how much I'd embraced myself, "I just... I thought you... might be-"

"Joking?" okay, so her harsh tone did not help my embarrassment, in fact it turned into pure humiliation, "You think I waste government resources and taxpayer money joking around?" my cheeks became hot, my eyes widened, and my heart started racing.

How embarrassing! I wished the cheap flooring in Holt's office would just open up and swallow me whole. I've just embarrassed myself, my squad and my captain to the Chief of Bureau Organized Crime. There go my ambitions and dreams.

And something else that stood out to me is that no one in the squad defended me. Like, this was a genuine reaction to what they were saying and no one wanted to step up for me. Not that I wanted them to, I was in the wrong here, kind of, but no one even tried. Just goes to show how much more work I have to do to get acknowledged as a part of the team.

"I can't blame you though," leveled Vincent as she pulled a case file out of her messenger bag - that I hadn't noticed until then, which I should have, I'm a detective - and handed it to Jeffords, "it is a ridiculous notion, and if I didn't have any proof I would think I've lost it myself. "

We all studied Jeffords' reaction as he browsed through the file. All seemed fine until page 9. When he turned the page he did an immediate double take, after which his eyes grew exponentially larger than his head. Just getting over my embarrassment, I started feeling excited again. What did she mean by "giant turtles"? Was it Bureau code for something? Is it a metaphor?

"Sir, I don't understand what I'm looking at here." stared Jeffords, doing some subtle pacing on the spot, What did he see in there? Was it gory and gruesome? I could handle that! But so could he, so what had him so shocked?

"Here are the facts:" the Chief stated tiredly, with a sigh, she seemed stressed by the whole situation and I couldn't blame her, "there are four giant mutant turtles and a rat who act human and speak English living in the sewers. They were an experiment created by Eric Sachs 20 years ago under Shredder and TCRI. They were supposed to test the reaction of some chemicals to a living organism. 5 years passed and it was found out by Kirby O'Neil - a scientist on Sachs' team - that his plans were less then savoury. O'Neil destroyed all research, the lab was set on fire and supposedly, all test subjects were destroyed. The turtles however were saved by Kirby's daughter - you may have seen her on Channel 6. After that the turtles and the rat lived in the sewers for years, fighting crime on the surface."

More silence, and at that point I genuinely though I must be dreaming. Four giant mutant turtles and a rat? Shredder and TCRI? Fighting crime? What?

"Okay, so," mumbled Boyle, "so... You're pitching a movie to us... And it... Sounds okay, I can do it - I can play a turtle-"

"This is serious, Boyle!" scolded Holt, oh, he was stressed as well, that much, I could tell, "Do you think we'll be standing here and wasting time on a prank?!" here came his gravitas and you knew he was on edge, "Sergeant," he addressed Jeffords, who handed the case file to Diaz, who had a similar - but far more contained - reaction to Jeffords'.

"I mean," I started again, hopefully this time I won't embarrass my entire unit, "you have to know how this sounds, right?"

"I do" she nodded and leaned on the edge of the Captain's desk, and I could feel pity for her, I don't know what this was, but surely it's not easy to deal with, "and I did react the same way. To be fair, it's far easier to believe once you meet them."

Meanwhile, the folder was slowly making its way down the line towards me and honestly I was nervous. I don't know what I was about to see, and I didn't believe it would be giant turtles.

"They are good people and have put themselves in danger countless times to save innocent citizens, helped arrests and took this massive risk two weeks ago. They are truly extraordinary and we need to treat them with respect and kindness." this was honestly surreal. It felt like we were in preschool and we were being told to be nice to the special-ed kid. What the hell was going on?

The file landed in Peralta's hands and he gave a gasp. So far his reaction was the most openly-shocked one - not surprising for him - and I was trying to not peak from my peripheral vision.

"So cool!" he mumbled, eyes almost as wide as his smile.

"We are showing you this now so you won't react out of surprise or shock. They've had enough of that as it is." Vincent seemed to be nearly done with her speech, shoulders drooping with every next word, as she was drawing to a close. "You will meet them tomorrow evening. And one last thing," Oh, boy, what now, "I'll need one of you to be their handler. Now, you'll need to be available at all hours of the day, have very few days off..."

"I'll do it!" I exclaimed, almost feeling instant regret, but holding strong, "I can do it."

Vincent squinted her eyes at me, looked me up and down and I felt like I was being examined by the terminator. I tried not to flinch or fidget, I kept my head high, my posture straight and my eyes determined.

Peralta finally passed the file to me and I looked down at its contents. Multiple reports of pursuits ending with the perps tied up or unconscious in an alley, multiple cases solved and processed because of mysterious arrests. And then, a picture.

It was dark blurry photo with the resolution of an old smart phone camera. It took me a while to register what I was seeing. There were four... what looked to be men, jumping or flying (because at this point, why not, right?) in strange clothing, with something that looked like one of those heavy-duty tourism backpacks that campers carry around.

Wait, hold on. This doesn't prove anything.

Those could very easily be suits, or some kind of photo editing, that's not evidence.

I held my dissent however, because I really wanted this task force. I need to take initiative if I want to make Captain one day.

"You're sure you can handle it?" doubted Vincent, and I could kind of get her point, I was the youngest one on the squad, with the exception of some of the beats but I also had the numbers to prove my capability.

"Yes, ma'am. I can do it." I still had it in the back of my head that this was some kind of joke, prank, or test, but it didn't mean much because I still wanted this task force.

"Okay, then." she agreed, and turned her attention back on the team, just as I was done examining the minimal evidence there was, and handed her back the file, "Now, this task force will be held completely off the books." Wait, what!? But, I... "The evidence and case data collected will be processed and filed as usual with no mention of these four gentlemen-" So, I was right they're dudes, but that still doesn't mean much, "-or this task force." she turned to me again and stated, serious as ever, "As their handler, you will have to take care of their contacts on the surface, their safety and make sure all their separate arrests get processed and filed according to procedure. You will also have to distribute and assign these separate cases to your team. " Oh, God... Am I in over my head? "This is your last out, are you sure you can handle it?"

I swallowed hard and hoped no one noticed but without an ounce of doubt stated:

"Yes, ma'am. I can do it."

She seemed to buy my confidence this time and nodded in agreement.

"Great, I want you all in ceremonial dress at the Statue of Liberty, 9 pm.

Don't be late!" and with a final cold look and a silent threat on our lives, she briskly left the room and announced the end of the work day.

Here we go! This will either make or break my career!...

Only time will tell...

Chapter Text

20:55 EST

New York, NY 10004, USA, STATUE OF LIBERTY

8 MONTHS TO GO

I was shaking. I was a nervous wreck. What would happen? Who were these people? Am I gonna be able to handle it? I hoped and prayed I would.

We were all gathered in front of Lady Liberty herself, all in line. There was us - 99th Brooklyn Precinct, the handpicked detectives and our officers, and Organized Crime - the squad who worked with these people the first time around.

I looked at my wrist watch - it was nearly time. Where were they?

Just then I heard Amy gasp next to me.

"Oh, god..." she whispered.

I looked up and saw that on the platform next Chief Vincent now stood four figures.

What the hell?! Where did they come from?!

And oh... Oooh....

They were green, and super buff, and SO tall. Even the shortest one must have been over the 6� mark, and as a 5'6 woman, I was a bit intimidated. At first glance they seemed to be shirtless - and they were - but further looking at them, I noticed they had some sort of armor over their fronts, like lighter-colored leather, but it had extra texture to it. They were all wearing some kind of masks over their eyes, and they were all in different colors.

The shortest one, furthest away from the Chief, was wearing orange shorts and his mask was the same color - apparently it was his thing - he had a chain around his neck, a hoodie tied around his waist, Is it his waist? They are turtles so...?, and some mismatched and mangled sneakers that were barely sneakers at this point.

The one next to him, the tallest one had a purple mask, a pair of glasses over it, some other thingimajit on his head - looked like heat or night vision goggles. He had a bunch of gadgets, and things attached to his person in all sorts of ways. He was wearing khaki cargo pants and some combat boots that were a size probably too big for an NBA player. Out of all of them he was skinniest - but that didn't mean much because they were all really beefy.

Next to him, was the largest one yet. Signature color: red. And it looked good on him. Wait, what? His mask was different as it covered the top of his head too so it looked more like a durag that went over his eyes. He was wearing shorts too, but they were black, he had shoulder pads on (I don't know why, he didn't seem to need them) and some kind of sash around his chest. He was barefoot and I could see he only had two toes. I mean, this is no weirder than the rest so why not.

And then the last one. He wore a minimalistic pair of cargo pants as well, he had white bandage around his... three-fingered hands. Okay, then. His look was finalized by his sandals and blue mask. He kind of had a Japanese samurai look to him.

They were a strange sight, no question there but once you get used to it...

Ah, curse my pan-shaped heart for enjoying diversity!

They were all... Kinda hot. It felt weird admitting that to myself but I've always had a thing for big strong thighs and gentle eyes. And the green skin was kind of a bonus.

Oh, my god! Keep it in your pants! You're these people's handler, for fucks sake!

"To you, brothers..." Oh, shit, speech started already? How long did I spend gawking that I didn't notice Vincent speaking? "Leonardo," the one in blue smiled and gave a small bow with his head, "Raphael," the biggest one in red gave a soft smile and averted his eyes off the audience for a second - Big and shy, huh? Cute..., "Donatello," the tallest one gave a small smile too, but didn't look up, and glanced to, what I now knew was, his brother on his left - You're the timid kind, are you? Oh my god, STOP IT, "and Michelangelo" the shortest one, probably youngest too, smiled wide and waved at us, "uh…" Vincent stuttered, and whispered further away from the mic, "last name?"

Really? She didn't think to ask before? I mean, it's been a busy week, but how do you forget that?

"Uh…, not so much. " informed the tallest one - Donatello.

"I never thought of that. That's no fair!" complained his brother on his left - Michelangelo.

"Congratulations!" Vincent finished her speech with applause and we all joined in.

I was shaking at this point. And not from fear - well it kind of was but it wasn't fear of these people - I was terrified of what's going to happen next. I was thinking of just backing down, letting someone else step up to take the task force but I forced that fear down with the idea of the promised land - becoming the youngest Police Captain in NYPD. I was getting close, I just needed to ace my Sergeants exam in 8 months, work a couple more years as one, and then there'll be one final exam and here we go, I'm a Captain. Easy-peasy.

"Let's go introduce ourselves." ordered Holt, only giving us a second to oblige. He seemed to be summoned by Vincent talking to the turtles - It still feels weird to think that...

"... and this is the squad we've assigned to work with you. That will handle your cases and provide backup when necessary." she looked our way, with her head turned so the brothers couldn't see and mouthed 'Be professional!' in a threatening way. Yep, not gonna test that!

Up close they were even taller, and I tried not to stand in the back because I'd be obscured by another large buffoon - Jeffords.

"Hello, I'm Captain Raymond Holt. I'm in charge of the 99th Brooklyn Precinct and once again we'd like to thank you for the devoted work you've done for the city."

He saluted and so did we. It felt odd though and the brothers looked a bit uncomfortable, but followed the one in blue - Leonardo - when he went to bow in return. Yep, samurai vibes.

After some more words of gratitude, I didn't pay attention to, Holt and Jeffords left the squad with our new colleagues, and the moment Peralta saw they were out of hearing range and all Hell broke loose.

"So you guys are the coolest people in New York! I have so many questions!" he exclaimed that gleeful childish smile, spread wide on his face. They seemed shocked by this.

Oh, no!

Luckily, he was on my left so I could give him a discreet elbow in the ribs, reminding him that if he ruined this for me I'll ruin the remainder of his days on earth.

"Ow, what was that for?" he whined.

Really? That wasn't clear enough?

When he looked my way in confusion, I gave him a pointed look, eyes wide and lips tight together, and prayed that he'll be able to read that one.

"Right, professional!" he hid his smile, made an exaggerated 'serious' face and deepened his voice. "So, you're ninjas?" he turned to me with that stupid smile on his face, "Better?"

"Barely." I stated matter-of-factly, because who has the patience to deal with a Jake on a Thursday evening. I turned back to the men in front of me and was surprised to find they looked amused rather than annoyed. "Gentlemen, this is the squad" I introduced each of them by rank and full name, pointing at each one, and still keeping my eyes locked on them in case they decided to pull a Jake and embarrass me again. Lastly, I introduced Peralta and just before I could finally introduce myself he butted in with his usual enthusiasm.

"The best and most amazing Detective ever. Stoked to be working with you guys. Like, real ninjas, can you believe it!?"

I would have found it funny or at the very least harmless any other day but not today, I needed these people to like me... Or at least tolerate me.

"Okay, squad." I announced loudly, "You may go now, see you tomorrow." it was my - and I feel like, the best - way to tell them to get Peralta away from me before I commit a crime.

I waited until they were a hearing distance away and just then I turned back to the podium and felt the gravity of the situation.

I was in my finest Type A uniform, with my badge and patches, and some big old Mickey Mouse gloves on, standing in front of four giant turtle ninjas. How the fuck…?

Okay, think of something light and breezy to hide how tense you are.

"Yes, he is usually this loud and annoying." I laughed lightly, trying to make eye contact with all of them - All of their eyes are gorgeous!" It takes some getting used to but I can assure you, he's a good detective and a good person under all that."

"Oh we know all about loud and annoying," stated the largest one - Raphael - with a smile - Oh my god, why can I hear my pulse!?, "right, Mikey?" his voice gave me goosebumps. It was like distant thunder, just quiet and contained but raw and primal.

The 'short' brother smiled and giggled.

"Yeah!" but then it visibly dawned on him, "Hey!"

Cuuutee!

I laughed at that as did his brothers. And then I decided it’s time for business, and cleared my throat and played with the improvised business card in my jacket pocket.

"So, I'm not sure if Chief Vincent informed you but I'm Detective Lee Ivan, 99th Brooklyn Precinct and I will be your official NYPD contact." Of course they don't know your name, you, narcissist! Dudes have bigger things to worry about!

I pulled the small card with all my information on it and extended my arm in their general direction. Leonardo took the card from me - that's a leader move, we found the boss - and looked it over.

"This has all my contacts on it. I've put in my address - in case of emergency, hopefully won't be necessary but better safe than sorry-" Okay, but you're rambling now! "my email address, and both my work-related phone number and my personal one - again, just in case."

"Ooh, you up for some moonlight texting?" Michelangelo wagged his... brow ridges at me in a flirty manner, and at that point I decided I will not be outdone like this.

"I don't see why not." I responded nonchalantly. The turtle sputtered nervously as if he wasn't expecting that sort of answer and his brothers laughed.

I decided to add in a little bit extra at the end of my pitch. They saved the city after all.

"As your official handler it’s my job to take care of your cases and safety, but if you need anything at all, be it work-related or just needing someone to pick up some takeout for you, I'm available at any and all hours of the day. Don't hesitate to call at any time, for any reason." I was finally happy with the way that sounded. Hopefully they were too.

"Sweet!" giggled Donatello with a little snort at the end - Cuuuuuteeee!

"Alright!" exclaimed Mikey.

"Ivan?" I heard a familiar male voice behind me. I turned and saw the last person I expected to see here.

"Jones?" I echoed. Again, why am I even surprised by anything anymore?

"Wait, you two know each other?" implored Raphael. Keep talking, please, and I'll just try not to drool!

"We worked at the 78th together." I answer, looking Jones up and down. I mean, he was a classic type of handsome but far too regular for me, we only ever clicked in a professional way and we worked well together until I moved to the 99. And who was this woman next to him and why did she look familiar? I ignored her for the moment.

"I heard about the ambush, by the way." I mentioned off-handedly but I was concerned, he was still my friend, "You alright?"

He gave me a questioning look at that, and I'd just remembered why.

"Yeah, I'm fine, but how did you know about the ambush? It was supposed to be classified."

Very smooth, Ivan, great performance of professionalism.

"Beats talk." well, that much was true, "One of your guys told one of our guys and by noon the whole precinct knew."

He cringed a bit at that and I couldn't get why.

"Beats?" repeated Mikey in question.

"Beat cops." I respond, elaborating with, "Patrol officers." to which I got a long "Oooh!" as a response.

I glanced at the woman, who'd stayed silent the whole time - I feel she may have been studying me - just as she gave a small smile my way and extended her hand.

"April O'Neil." she informed and it finally clicked. This was the woman Vincent said saved the turtles when they were little, "Channel 6." Oh right! I've seen her on TV. She's a journalist... The thought had me worried.

I introduced myself and shook her hand, and immediately after I shot the question, "I didn't know we were letting the press in on the whole story. I thought this" my eyes darted without my consent to my new wards yo see them eyeing me suspiciously, "was supposed to be kept very much off the books." I hope I came off as curious and not downright skeptical and accusatory. But I was tense and I didn't like journalists a whole lot so maybe I didn't.

"Oh, no, no," she disputed, "I'm just here as a friend, the news don't need to know what I do with my spare time." she smiled back but I could see she read the undertones of my previous statement. She knew I held some hostility to her but kept up the pretense, because that's what we girls do.

"Right, that's fair." this is a conversation-ender for sure and I knew she knew that. I decided to focus back on my official 'wards' again and returned to the previous topic as if I've never met the woman.

"Well, now you have one more police friend." I declared, cheerful at last, nervousness dropping by the second. They seemed to be really chill and fun guys.

But at that point their chill smiles dropped and their faces seemed to display a mild amount of shock. Ah, fuck, what did I say?

Before I could dwell on though, Mikey whooped and cheered, "Yeah!" and his brothers seemed to use his joy to step out of their momentary stupor.

I smiled too but it kinda nagged me. What was it that triggered that reaction?

Vincent came out of nowhere again, smiling wide - which kind of scared me, as the first time I met her she was this intimidatingly-serious, no-nonsense character - and turned my way, some of her seriousness resurfacing.

"You're dismissed, Ivan." I give a shallow nod and reply with a

"Yes, ma'am!" and then turn to the turtles one last time - Okay, ho, keep it in your pants, now! Do not, I repeat, do NOT embarrass yourself any more than you have! - and give them a small smile and said "If you ever need anything, you have my contacts, don't hesitate to call on any account. I'm available at all times, so... yeah. Goodnight!" I turned on my heel and my smile dropped.

Oh, god, you, useless skin-sack of bones! I wouldn't call you if my life depended on it! Ugh... Hopefully I'm not fired yet...

Chapter Text

01:30 EST

175 Spencer Street, NY, Home

8 MONTHS TO GO

I was restless.

I met the turtles a couple of hours ago and when I went back home after the 25 - 30-minute drive home, I was still shaken by the night�s events.

Giant weapon-wielding, English-speaking, crime-fighting, bipedal turtles who I'm gonna be working with.

I mean, this is New York and 'weird and over the top' is the norm here but...

I took a shower, prepared for bed and by the time I hit the soft plush pillows it was about midnight. I wouldn't usually take this long to put a pair of pajamas on and get a cup of tea but I guess, I was so deep in thought that I was stifling my muscle memory somehow.

About an hour and a half of tossing and turning in my bed, my phone gave a soft ting - a text message. I took my phone from the nightstand where I'd left it after an unsuccessful attempt to finish Inferno.

It was an unknown number.

Odd.

I didn't give my phone out to too many people, and this was my personal one as well. I immediately thought of the only people who've received my personal number recently - the ninja turtles.

When I opened the conversation I couldn't help but giggle.

???: Wats up Goldilocks

???: U dreaming about me?

???: I hope I didn't wake you but couldnt stop thinking about your smile

Well, someone's a bit of a flirt!

I renamed the contact and quickly responded, remembering that the last time I gave even a hint of flirting back, he stuttered and blushed.

Would you believe me if I said I was thinking about you too?

His next text took a while to go through and I expect it was for the same reason as last time.

really?

what about?

All good things Michelangelo ;)

But then a thought hit me.

It's pretty late, aren't you gonna go to sleep?

nah

were going on patrol in a bit

Leos a bit on edge tho

and call me Mikey, Michelangelo is what dad calls me when im in trouble

Leo... Leonardo? Hm, cute...

Now why would, what seemed to be, the leader, or at least the oldest brother, be on edge. Surely that can't be good.

Why's that? You guys alright? Need anything?

I can't fail my job on the first day. Nope, not gonna happen. Also... patrol? They do that too?

nah were cool

he just worries that now "were under more pressure coz we work with the police"

or something

Oh, that's kind of sad. From what I've gathered from reports and testimonials, they already get a lot done in a night. Probably more than our best Beats could, and that's not a jest to NYPD officers, it's about how efficient these guys truly are. To be putting even more pressure on themselves like that... Well, it can't feel nice, frankly.

I know you weren't asking for my opinion but I think you guys should let loose for a night or two.

You just saved the city two weeks ago, that surely should be enough to have earned a night of rest.

Ultimately, it's your decision but I'd advise you to take the night off. Don't wear yourselves off.

For a minute, there was no response and I felt like I may have overstepped a boundary. Maybe I was being too 'light and breezy' and not enough 'professional'.

Another minute later another unknown number sent a message, this time to my work number, and this one was so sharply-contrasting the previous one that it almost gave me whiplash.

Hello, Detective Ivan. This is Leonardo.

I'm aware it's late but I hope I'm not disturbing you.

You and Chief Vincent mentioned that you will be handling our cases so I thought it prudent to mention we will be going on patrol. I will make sure to give you the locations and details of all the arrests we make so you can process them accordingly.

Sheesh! I've never been more convinced you could determine a personality through a text. I mean, I don't blame the guy, we are supposed to be just coworkers but he sounds 80. I decided that I'm in the wrong and that he's the more professional one out of the two of us and responded accordingly.

Hello, Leonardo. Don't worry, I was awake anyway. It'll be best if you shoot me a text or call the moment you finish an arrest so I can send over a squad to handle it and process the paperwork. Just make sure to do so once you're out of danger.

I hope I'm not overstepping but as I told Michelangelo, there's nothing wrong in taking a night off. We're far from the thought that you are machines who can work all day every day. It's okay to take a break sometimes.

In case you still decide to go forward with your patrol, good luck and stay safe.

A beat of silence. I tensed at the thought of Leonardo contacting Chief Vincent and asking for a new handler. I didn't want to entertain the thought but my anxiety didn't seem to have a problem with it.

We've done this before. Don't worry.

I will make sure to message you if we get anything.

Goodnight

Phew! Okay, that was a close one. But I'm gonna have to act a bit more serious around them from now on, at least around Leonardo.

Before I signed off I made sure to mention my conversation to Mikey.

Sorry, Mikey, I tried to save you from patrol but alas! Twas not to be!

oh man

you were my one and only hope

Stay safe out there! Make sure your brothers do too.

No texts came in afterwards so I assumed they hadn't got anyone.  Even still, I was a bit worried. If they worked themselves this hard every day... Well, surely nothing good would come of it. I made a mental note to mention it to them.

The next day was Saturday so that was great for me. I got to do some yoga in the morning, some light workout, it was also my cheat day so I could eat junk food, and more importantly, in the evening, I got to watch a whole movie marathon. It was one of the few strict routines I could keep as my life was relatively dynamic and, with my new task, was about to become at least twice that.

Sleeping about two hours a night was not unusual for me, in fact it was the norm. My brain would rather take a quick nap just before dawn than sleep through the night. For whatever reason. It's been that way since I was a kid and I never really looked to fix it in any way so it's become a part of my life now. It's a part of the reason why I exceed so quickly - I put in double the hours and work and it sometimes pays off.

After my 'nap', I woke up at around 6 AM - just before dawn and as planned did some light stretching and exercise, just to kick off the day with some extra energy.

The morning hours went by pretty uneventful but there was always a persistent thought in the back of my mind - neither Mikey, nor Leonardo had texted that they'd made it home safe. I was worried. There's no point denying it.

At around 9, I was far too anxious to wait for them to text first.

Hey, Mikey! Sorry to bother you but I just wanted to make sure you guys came home safe.

I think I must have stared at my phone for about 10-ish minutes at least. Not taking my eyes off, not moving, constantly refreshing as if this was physical mail and I needed to constantly check the box in case the mailman came while I was gone.

I finally heard the ting again as the text came through.

yah girl were fine

we came home at like 4 so I didnt wanna risk waking u

its so nice to have someone worry about us

so sweet of u goldilocks

I felt myself giggling at that. Mikey was just a ball of joy, wasn't he?

Of course I worry, you guys are heroes. It would be devastating for the city if something happened to you.

to the city or to you?

Both

I was just finishing my cup of coffee, by smothering it with steamed milk when another text came through.

Hi, Detective Ivan, it's Donatello - the giant turtle with glasses.

The tall one with the dimple in his chin?... Cuuteee

Originally, Leo was going to call you about this but I think the line could be bugged so we decided it's best to talk to you in person. Can you come by the Lair some time today? It's about a case.

The Lair? Uhm, okay, that does not sound scary at all...

But a job is a job.

Hi, Donatello!

Of course I can, I'm just going to need an address and I'll be there as soon as possible.

The moment that message went through, and not a second later, a small window with directions popped up on my screen. It looked weird and out of place on the LED screen, with its solid purple background and plain black text over my vibrant pastel screen image.

But what stood out was how quickly it had happened. He either knew I was going to ask for an address and had already been working on sending one or he hadn't waited for my response at all.

And wait a minute, what app is that?

How did he send me an address and directions through text messages? Did he... hack into my phone...?

I didn't know what to think of that so I didn't. I just went about responding to his text like the little bubble with directions was not blocking my screen.

Thank you, Donatello! I'll be there as soon as possible.

See you soon.

It took me a second to register that one of the directions on the list was "Enter sewer at 181 Spencer Street construction site". Sewer... Aren't there alligators in there? I mean there's giant turtles for sure...

With a deep sigh, I realized I will not be having my second cup of coffee, instead I will have to be splashing around in the sewers all morning. Yay.

I quickly and efficiently showered, got dressed, slapped the smallest, most discreet amount of makeup on and got my emergency bag (with some extra ammo, a bulletproof vest and some extra tactical gear, just on case) from where I held it in a locked cupboard by the door. I always like to have one on me - just in case - which is why I always keep one on in my car. It's better to be over-prepared than be under-prepared. And seeing as the thing on my phone says it's a walking distance away, I would not need my car.

So in under 15 after the last text, I left my apartment and embarked on this new adventure full of sewer water, stink and filth and four giant turtles.

There go my Saturday plans.

The streets were as busy as you'd expect them to be at 9:30 on a Saturday morning in August. Relatively busy. Traffic wasn't too bad though and people generally avoided the construction site at the end of Spenser St, which is where I was headed.

As per usual, when I lifted the manhole cover - these things are heavy, goddamn - and went down the ladder, nobody batted an eye. Because of course they didn't.

When I was far enough down I dragged the metal slab back over the hole with extreme effort and at that point I realized that at this point my shower was a waste of time because I was in the sewers and I was sweaty. Good thing I always brought some deodorant in my emergency bag - no one likes smelling like blood, sweat and grime.

I sprayed myself a hearty amount just for good measure and put on a dust mask that I always have to have because the air in this city is trash. In this case it acted as a odor-blocker and it did well, because it was freshly washed and smelled of detergent. Some of the smell still got in but it was overall fine.

As I was following Donatello's directions I noticed that he'd probably picked out the non-flooded tunels, ones that were probably out of use, in construction or just not used to transport sewage water. That was very sweet of him, he guessed that I don't have waist-high rain boots and a hazmat suit to walk around in.

It took me about 10 minutes to get to the destination he had lead me to but when I turned the last corner I was shocked to see that the tunnel was a dead end.

Huh? Weird. Maybe I turned the wrong corner...

Except I didn't because the little purple bubble on my phone screen started blinking and said "Welcome to the Lair!".

Thoroughly confused once again, I thought I need to seek help. Like, sure, I was fine up there on the actual streets but in here my natural compass was suspended and useless. I didn't know where East was, couldn't tell the time if not for my phone and I didn't know the tunnels at all.

Hey, Donatello, I'm sorry to bother you again but I think I got lost.

The GPS thing on my phone says I'm here but I'm in a dead end.

I hated bothering other people with my problems. And I absolutely hated - HATED - asking for help. But I was in an inconvenient situation.

No response came in however the moment it got through - How is service in the sewers this good? How do I even HAVE service? - what I thought to be a dead end at the bottom of the tunnel opened sideways like a door and revealed a smiling 6'7 - 6'9 turtle.

"You're right where you should be." he reassured, opening the door wider to show the inside of - I didn't know what I was seeing other that a lot of colorful lights and gadgets and trinkets and candles and..., "Welcome to the Lair 2.0." his smile was so sweet and inviting and somewhat shy.

2.0? What happened to the first one?

I tried to NOT display any type of shock or surprise on my face but since I couldn't see my own face I would like to assume that I was doing an okay job.

"Thank you, Donatello." I manage to stutter out as I crossed the threshold and - oh, no, my stutter is coming back.

I found it the strangest reaction when his shoulders raised a bit and his back hunched a fraction, chin going into his neck. He avoided eye contact, choosing instead to look into the cement floor of the tunnel.

"Just Donnie is fine." he mumbled through a smile, cheek bunching up in a dimple. Adorable!

"Well, then, just Lee is fine by me!" I gave him a much bigger, brighter smile than I originally intended but, boy, he was being all sorts of muffin and playing with my heartstrings. And those chubby cheeks!

As I finally let my gaze fall away from him and tried to familiarize myself with my surroundings, I was met with what I could only describe as a clusterfuck of colors and lights.

The entry was a small (well, relative to Donnie's height - it was fine for me) tunnel that lead to a larger cavern. The room was large and tall, and it looked to be sectioned in small areas for different things. The closest thing to the entry hall was a small circular podium surrounded by unlit candles. Behind it was a small... Stream? River? Canal? Well, I still don't know what it was but I know it came from a waterslide that came from god knows where. The water in it looked clean though - at least for the minimal lighting, that is.

Different tunnels seemed to have different purposes and therefore different aesthetics. I saw one filled with weights, one with lab equipment, another one seemed to serve as a kitchen.

I frankly couldn't focus on one thing at a time. My eyes were all over the place, changing direction and target every two or so seconds.

"Welcome to my crib, girl!" I heard Mikey's enthusiasm echo from somewhere in the ginormous room.

I turned and saw him get onto a skateboard and jump from the edge of one of the higher tunnels. I was expecting gravity to take it from there but nope, air and smoke came out of the back of the board and he FLOATED my way. By the time he rolled to my side my mouth was opened so wide I felt my jaw pressing on my jugular.

"Like it?" he asked, flipping his board and catching it in one hand and posting his other - heavy, muscular - arm over my shoulder. I was never much of a hugger but I didn't have the heart to tell him that.

"Do I!" I exclaimed still looking around the place in astonishment. How did they get all of this? "How did you guys get all of this!?" well, I'm a simple woman, what can I say.

"A ninja never tells their secrets!" he whispered mysteriously and I just chuckled. How can you not, he's like a glowing green sun that doesn't burn you!

"Isn't that what magicians say?" I throw back, without much though.

"You take that mask off and I'll show you real magic!", I want to say I handled that maturely, but no, I cackled, like, actually cackled - head thrown back, hand on my stomach, eyes squeezed shut, wheezing.

I need some more Mikey in my monotonous life!

"Please excuse my brother's behavior, Detective." a deep cool voice carried from somewhere in the smaller tunnels, repurposed as rooms, "His silly one-liners aren't why we called you here!", just as I recovered from my laughing fit and opened my eyes I saw Leonardo standing tall in front of me, stern and fierce. Maybe it was something about his eyes - how they looked like polished steel under an electric blue light and sharply contrasted his dark green skin, maybe it was his height and formidable bulk, but he looked intimidating, like I would tread lightly around a guy like that on a normal day.

"Oh, I don't mind some silly one-liners on my way in." I smiled at him hoping to lighten the palpable tension. No success.

"Donnie noticed something while we were patrolling last night," he started again, slowly making his way to a hub of at least thirty screens, where Donnie and Mikey were - When did they move away from me and why didn't I notice? I'm a detective, I'm supposed to be sharp! - seemingly waiting for me to follow so I did.

And while I was walking I took off my dust mask because the "Lair" didn't smell bad at all. In fact, it smelled like burning incense, leather and some spray paint.

"So here's what I found out." said Donnie, pointing me to one of the middle screens and starting to click away on his keyboard.

Well, this ought to be good!

Chapter Text

09:45 EST

Somewhere under Brooklyn, NY

8 MONTHS TO GO

"So I found this while I was browsing through your old case files," he momentarily unstuck his eyes from the screen to glance my way - he was sitting down, I was standing up and he still had to look down to meet my gaze, and while I knew I wanted to blame it on the height of the chair, I knew that would not be fully accurate, " I didn't mean to pry, I hope that's fine."

"Sure, it is." it did dawn on me that the brothers would doubt me at some point and check my background, which is totally fine - I would Google reviews of a coffee shop before I go, what's left for the people who hold my fate in their hands, "some hindsight is always appreciated. Find anything good?"

"Uh, well," he gave a sideways nod and looked at me again, this time sporting a small smile, "I found your arrest numbers to be impressive. Over 400 in a year? That's a lot - double the city average in fact. But not the point of this. " he went into ramble-mode and I couldn't help but find it sweet that he did that, "As I was saying, I went through some of your old cases - well, old, relatively speaking - and noticed that one of your first major cases might be heating up again." I saw the mug shot and records but still needed a second to recognize the man - I can't remember every arrest I've ever made in vivid detail.

"Andreas Malorie. An old collar I brought in about two years ago. Got 15 years for armed robberies of 6 jewelry shops in one night.", I state, memories from that week resurfacing, "What about him?"

"Well," he pushed his granny glasses up his... nose...? - no, he's a turtle so it's a snout - with his middle finger and I couldn't help but notice the thin bright purple ribbon that twisted around his arm, "last night while in Manhattan" click clack, again and an image of a seemingly-small jewelry shop, with the door slightly ajar, "we noticed this."

"Hmm..." I looked at the series of images he had - some were from the CCTV across the street, some were from a smaller distance and a different quality, "it doesn't look like a robbery from this angle. And it doesn't look like his ammo. Why do you think it's a robbery? And why Malorie?"

"Did you know he was recently released on parole? With one of his cell mates as well."

"Uhm, no," I stuttered, and I don't know why, "but it’s not generally my job to keep track of that. If he's back to breaking rules than that's up to his parole officer to take care of. Not my jurisdiction." I didn't get it, he seemed far more intelligent than half of the people I work with - myself included - Was he connecting dots that don't exist or was he just not explaining himself well?

"I cross-referenced his name and that of the owner and it seems that this is actually the owner of one of the original six shops that were robbed. Christopher Martin. He was actually the only one who had an alarm, which if I'm correct, if that hadn't activated when it did, Malorie would have walked off with all the jewelry."

"You're correct. We only managed to catch him because Martin's alarm tripped and he panicked and got sloppy." I confirmed, but was still left to wonder, "Still, this is just an open door, they could very much have left it after they closed for the night. And if it was a scare tactic by Malorie, we have no proof." I huffed and changed pose, hip jutting out, arms crossed - deep-in-thought power pose, "I could go and ask around but that doesn't guarantee anything."

"We also found this," he changed the image on the screen with a picture of a piece of paper, it was a piece of a newspaper article of some sort but that's not what mattered - over certain letters of the article there were smears of some kind of light-colored ink. "This is why I believe they're connected."

Oh, so that makes a bit more sense.

p-r-E-p-are-t-h-E-d-i-a-m-o-n-d-s-Chris

"Well, that's creative."

"Did someone call me?" I heard Mikey’s voice from across the room again, quickly trumped by a growly "No one ever calls you, numbnuts."

Okay, then, not gonna comment on that.

" 'Prepare the diamonds, Chris' with some punctuation errors," Donnie giggled a bit at that, "could very much be a cause for alarm. If you have the address I can go straight to that."

He texted me the address and informed me that the owner had already made the 911 call so it wouldn't be unusual if I showed up. I wasn't worried about that at all but he seemed reassured by this so I let it go.

Leonardo was still sitting silently by the shell of computers - pff, I did that on accident, I swear - eyeing me suspiciously. I wanted to believe he didn't trust the police - that, I'm used to, I wouldn't be surprised if someone who's been slighted by my fellow officers in blue - but he hadn't seemed skeptical at the ceremony last night.

With that, I shouted a collective Goodbye to whoever in the Lair was listening and went back home to get my car.

To Manhattan!

And, oh no, traffic...

Well, I was able to get there. By 11.

And I even had time to stop by a small bakery and get some kind of pasty with vanilla cream and it was DELICIOUS. Here's to cheat days!

At about 11:10 when I was done scoping the place the owner showed up - I knew he was the owner because he had a black shirt on with a name tag that said 'Christopher' and right under it is said 'Store Owner'.

Poor guy, he was in his uniform, getting ready for a normal day of selling people shiny rocks and metals and what did he get? A jimmied-open door and a threat to his renewed business, possibly even his life.

He looked a bit shaken up when he saw me examining the door, he didn't know who I was, after all, and stopped mid-stride.

"Oh, hello, sir," I greet politely, I didn't smile though, because that would be insensitive, "Detective Ivan, NYPD. Tell me about what happened here."

"Yes, I remember you, Detective Ivan. You did get my statement last time this happened." there was something snide about his tone, something mocking and angry in the way he said that, "I didn't think I would have to do this again. I'd assumed your system was more efficient." Why would you assume that, dick? We're a government agency, we're inefficient by definition.

"Sir, the man was put away last time and it was no longer up to me whether he stays in prison or not. Now, can you-"

"Well, if you tried harder the first time around maybe he wouldn't be free right now!" he barked, some of his beverage spilling on the side walk.

You know what, screw that, I feel no sympathy for you, you evil goblin, I hope all your jewels get stolen and you get eaten by a dragon!

"I'm going to have to ask you a couple of questions real quick and call in a team to scope the place." I ignored his previous statement, and posed him with the facts. Usually I would formulate it as a question, even if it never was, but I didn't feel the need to go out of my way to be nice to this human equivalent of a cat barf.

Well, needless to say, once the team arrived we found pretty much nothing other than that but we did set the place on our surveillance system. Someone's going to have to stake out here a couple of days, see what they can figure out, best case scenario we catch him red-handed and throw him back where he crawled out of, and then case closed.

If not, then we'll just have to wait and build a case against him and him being on the system does make that quite a bit easier for me. Hopefully this time, he'll either stay in jail or learn his lesson.

I made sure to text the results to Donnie, even throwing in how this guy could have crawled out of the sewers because he stank of the soul equivalent of fecal matter and bad decisions and I imagined how that had gotten a little giggle and a snort because he seemed like a guy who added a little snort to his laughter.

With this sorted, I instructed the officers to send all reports straight to me and that I'll be dealing with it and got a round of nods in response. All seemed to be smooth so far.

All except the snotty ginger man, in a black Store Manager uniform giving me a burning glare from inside his shop. I think he thought he was discreet, but I am a Detective, over-vigilance is my chosen path - and I was unsure of whether this troll-leprechaun hybrid was unaware or just unbothered.

Finally happy with myself at around 13:30, when the sun was really starting to glare down upon the city, blinded itself by the shiny glass and metal structures and bright colors. I didn't like the heat but I was not going to use my air conditioner. Sure, my car had one, it worked just fine, but it's not very green, as it wastes fuel.

I quickly scadaddled outta there now armed with a new case to work on and plans to get takeout tonight - I was starving, that delicious vanilla cream pastry had not kept my muscles from demanding their necessary amount of nutrition.

Even with the added morning run through the sewers it was still Saturday and I was going to enjoy the sunlights out of it.

Chapter Text

08:45 EST

99th Brooklyn Precinct, NY

8 MONTHS TO GO

Happy Monday!

To nobody.

My weekend was... dynamic, to say the least. It was filled with enough running around, case-solving, and arresting to last me a month but that doesn't mean I'll be getting a month-long vacation. Oh, no, no! All it means is that I now have an extra case to digitize, close the paperwork on and hand in.

I'm sort of saying this out of order but, yes, we did catch the guy. The turtles helped me with the arrest but it was a pretty simple solve. He'd left fingerprints, he was caught on a security camera, and he had been previously prosecuted so he's staying in jail this time. The trial will be held this week, I'll be there to testify, bingo bingo and we're done here.

And as cool as putting another criminal behind bars was (or in this case putting a criminal behind bars a second time), I still kind of need the weekends to rest. Like, I love doing what I do but it's still a mentally and emotionally-taxing job, you have to have a strong stomach and a stronger resolve to not emotionally crumble under the weight and I don't know how long it will take me to crack under the pressure if I keep working the weekends.

Either way, I was still exhausted when I walked in 15 minutes early, hoping I could get to the coffee machine before anyone else for my third cup of the morning - my first, I had at home, second - on my way to work.

I wanted to finish up my paperwork before noon and ask Holt to take the rest of the day off. I hope he'll understand.

Briefing started at the standard 9:15 - AKA when Peralta finally decided to show up. I, as usual, ignored the meaningless chatter - friendly jabs, jokes and all the non-work-related talk was tuned out for the sake of the preservation my sanity.

I saw Jeffords correct some numbers on the whiteboard at the front of the room and it seemed to be related to the bet Peralta and Santiago had made some time ago. I didn't know what the stakes were - wasn't in that "meeting", didn't care to ask afterwards.

"Updates on open cases." prompted Jeffords and I finally tuned in to the room's noise.

"I just closed a case of a jewelry shop robbery." I stated monotonously, "Made the arrest, and I'm just finishing up with my paperwork."

"Good, I want it on my desk as soon as you're done." he replied curtly.

"I just got a DOA on Bessimer Street."

Good on you, Boyle! Take ahold of your life! Be in charge for once!

"You're the primary, you're in charge." assigned the Sarge - Yeah, Jeffords! Give the little man some reason to live! "Take Diaz and Peralta with you." Oh, no...

"Yes! My fantasy threesome!" everyone groans and I just stay silent - this is Boyle, he says things like that all the time, "Of cops on a case!" he corrects but the damage has already been done.

I turn to Boyle feeling real pity and compassion to him and whisper an encouraging "Good luck!"

"Detectives, our monthly crime statistics are due." Holts strict baritone carried through the small briefing room, making us all turn to look at our Captain, "I want all paperwork on your closed cases by tomorrow." well, good thing I'm nearly done with that then, "Scully, you can just write 'I didn't close any' on a piece of paper."

Ha ha, okay, that's funny. Good one, Cap.

"You got it."

"I already got my paperwork in, Captain." informed Amy, letting a self-assured smile make appearance on her face. Ugh, you're like a teacher's pet from third grade.

"Then I guess this little reminder isn't for you." and Holt was having none of it.

After that some Santiago-Peralta bickering ensued, Holt shut it down and we were dismissed.

I kind of felt bad for a bit, I should be more engaged in these interpersonal matters, I should care more, at the end of the day, these people are my squad and I should be more involved in their personal little world. I should be. But with the utter exhaustion I was feeling at that moment, and the thrumming headache that was starting to force its way into my head I decided that I'll try. But not that day. Just not specifically that one day.

It took me another hour to finish my paperwork and quickly skim through the other case I left in my desk drawer on Friday, to make sure it was all fine and went straight to Holt's office.

I've never asked for a day off - well, not Holt at least. I do take the weekends off because we have to but I've never actually asked to be dismissed on personal reasons.

I knocked on his door and waited for the "Come in." to make myself known.

As I opened the door I could see the stress and exhaustion pouring out of this man. I think we all sometimes forget that Holt may be our CO but before that he's just a human man like any other, he got tired and upset and sometimes was not in the mood for our bullshit. And that made me feel even worse.

"Detective Ivan." he greeted, giving a polite nod, "I assume you have finished the bodega robberies from last week."

"Yes, sir but also a jewelry shop one from this weekend." he immediately caught on to what I was saying and gestured me to close the door and have a seat. I did so, after which I handed him both case files and placed my hands on my lap, awaiting judgement.

"So, this case was brought to you on Friday?"

"Saturday morning, sir."

"And you have closed it and finished the paperwork by 11:30 today?" he queried, he seemed to be testing me but I was too tired to even try to guess what for.

"Yes, sir."

He thumbed through the file, skimming over the evidence and testimonials from observers and the shop owner, and as he was closing it, he seemed pleased.

"Good. Dismissed."

I suddenly got very uncomfortable. Like I was asking someone I don't know for a favor and I hate asking for favors, even people I know. It's just an overall awful feeling.

"Sir," I started, holding eye contact even if I was uncomfortable, "since I poured over this all weekend, including Sunday night, and I was rushing to finish up by today... May I have the day off?" I left just a second of silence and quickly rushed to do damage control in case it was an inappropriate thing to ask for, "Of course, I would remain on the call if any new cases came in," I was speaking so quickly and my nerves were evident in my voice, "and I will be back on track on Tuesday. This is just a one-time thing-"

"Enough, Ivan." the Captain interrupted and at that point I definitely thought I'd lost my job, "You can have the rest of the day off, it's not an outrageous thing to ask for. Especially, since you've closed an extra case in the time you were supposed to be off duty."

A heavy sigh left my lungs and I felt my anxiety leaving with it, most of it at least. Holt wasn't mad at all, he was understanding and let me have the rest of the day to myself and made sure that I would not be receiving any new cases for now.

Oh, how strange it felt to be home at noon on a Monday. I've never seen my apartment in this light before (not in week days at least) - it was an odd feeling.

I was about ready to collapse on my couch and when my phone rang.

And it wasn't the ringtone of my personal one either.

Oh, my god, no!

It was Mikey. I was nearly ready to hang up but I was technically still in duty. I had a clue that if it was an emergency, Mikey probably wouldn't be the person to call but I still was quick to pick up as he could be in a hitch himself.

"Hello, Mikey."

"Hey there, Goldilocks, you alright? You sound tired." Was it that bad that it could be heard from my voice over the phone?

"I'm fine, sugar, just a bit tired. What do you need?" at the moment, I didn't consider the nickname I'd assigned him, it only registered a second later, but decided to stick with it nonetheless.

"Yeah, I'm good just doing some training, you know, gotta keep my guns loaded." I chuckled at that - Mikey was like a kid trying to impress an adult with what a kid would think is impressive to an adult, "Wanna come over?"

Uhm... What?

There was some noise in the background, it sounded like the phone was being swung around, there was yelling, screaming, laughing, and it came from at least three different sources even if they all bled into one another. I sat there with my phone at least five inches from my face, waiting for the flurry of noise and whatever else was happening on the other side to quiet down. At first I was a bit startled a bit on edge, thought the turtles may have been attacked and in danger but then I heard the mostly cheerful noises on the other side and my anxiety simmered down a notch.

When the noisy episode finally came to an end, I put my phone back to my ear, as the call hadn't been ended yet.

"Hello?"

"Uhm... Hi, it's Donnie." Oh, muffin, I could pick your voice out in a crowd, "So, I'm sorry if Mikey was being annoying, I know you came home early. I hope you're doing okay."

"Yeah, I'm cool I just needed some rest after the-" Back the fuck up... What? "Wait, what did you just say?"

"Mm, which part?" he sounded unsure and a bit anxious but he couldn't have been more so than me in that moment.

"The part where you said you knew I came home from work?" the aggressive side of me was coming out in a grandiose way - my hands were starting to shake, eyes wide, I stood up from the couch, muscles - tight as a string - were they tracking me? What for and why?

"Oh, uhm," Donnie stuttered for a second, "we decided that it was best to keep track of your location so I set up a locator based on the signal of your phone that I was able to get when you came in on Saturday." That's what that was for!? To watch where I go and when? This feels like a serious violation of my privacy, whatever the intentions were! "In my defense, I was against it," Donnie was on full damage control now, he wasn't apologizing but it sounded a bit like he was, "Leo said we might want to keep an eye on you in case you're in trouble or you were followed." Oh... Well, those are... noble enough intentions, I suppose, "And I only set it up to give me a distress signal if your phone was stuck in certain places at certain times for too long. I never used it for anything else. But Mikey just did. Are you mad?"

Honestly? No, not anymore. These boys were just trying to watch out for me because they knew I might be in danger just by virtue of knowing their secret. And yeah, it was an invasion of privacy and it was still kinda suss but I tried to keep all my quickly flattening anger at bay.

I sighed, and I'd just noticed I'd stopped pacing - without first knowing when I'd started.

"No, not really." but I still felt the need to throw in a round of aggressive advice and chastising, "But I would still appreciate it if you would tell me next time. I know how crucial privacy is in the survival and wellbeing of your family and I would not do or refuse to do anything that will put that in jeopardy." he was silent on the other side and all other noise seemed to have died down as well, and then it hit me.

The sudden silence in whatever room he was. The difference in reverb and sound. I was on speaker.

Realistically speaking, it wasn't such a dramatic thing at all. I didn't know why it bothered me as much as it did - I hadn't said anything offensive, I hadn't bad-mouthed any of his brothers thinking that they couldn't hear me. I hadn't really done anything for this little revelation to bother me but it did.

And later, in hindsight, I'd realized that the only reason why it did bother me and why it gave me a feeling of unease, is because he hadn't asked, he hadn't given me the option, or even informed me. And I hated that for a multitude of reasons.

"Anyway, Donnie, did you need anything?" I tried not to let my exhaustion make appearance in my voice but I was also too tired to do so successfully.

"Yeah, girl-Ow!" poor Mikey, tried to butt in but was shut down pretty quickly by... something.

"No, we're doing fine. Thank you." replied the cold and aloof tone of Leonardo's voice, and in that moment he reminded me more of the Captain than anyone ever had before.

"That's okay," I said and I that very second decided that it was finally time to start treating this situation as part of my duties, as it was, "it my job." Cool dudes or not, I'm letting myself get too close and it's only been three days. Three days! Am I that desperate for friendship and connections that I'm ready to latch onto the first people I meet in a year? That's grim, real grim.

"Well, okay then, have a great rest of your day. Bye!" Donnie was quick to shut down whatever conversation there was and not a beat later I heard the beeping sound of an ended call.

I was left in my apartment, suddenly not feeling up for a nap, just aimlessly staring at a wall sounded better.

Get a hold of yourself, Ivan, you're pathetic...

Chapter Text

02:48 EST

175 Spencer Street, NY

7 MONTHS TO GO

"We need help, ASAP! I'm sending you the address!" Donnie's distressed whisper came through the speaker, dispersing all the sleep from my organism and activating my adrenal gland.

"On my way." I shoot back and hang up. In less than two minutes I was in tactical gear, I shoved my feet in my boots by the door and had half a mind to lock at least one of the locks on my door.

I still needed a second to get my SUV out of the garage. I glanced at the clock in my car.

02:53

Fuck!

I hope they're okay!

Donnie had sent their location straight to the GPS on my car, so I didn't have to worry about that!

Good thing it seemed close and traffic was pretty minimal at this hour.

It took me two more minutes to find the back alley the GPS directed me to, with a minimal amount of red light crossing, and speeding over limit but I wasn't worried about that.

I was terrified of what might be going on, as the tall turtle never mentioned why they needed backup just that they did and that it was an emergency. I desperately wanted to believe that it was because of my job, that I didn't want to lose any more people to crime and injustice, that they were important to the city and the community - even if they didn't know it.

And while this was all true, the fact is that the reason why I was in the state of smoldering panic that I was in is because they were important to me.

Over the past few weeks we'd worked cases together, sure, but we'd also had more personal moments as well. Like when I told the brothers that I had no plans for Halloween and I was off duty and Raph asked if I wanted to join their scary movie marathon, and I'd surprised myself by saying yes. Or when I was responding to a call but it turned out to be someone I'd arrested a while back, who had made bail and still had an axe to grind with me - the boys had, via Donnie's phone signal tracker, noticed and come to my rescue even if the sun hadn't fully set yet.

They had my back and I wanted to be sure I had theirs too.

The longest three-minute ride finally ended in one of the dark little alleys that New York was infamous for.

I dropped out of my car, gun and flashlight in hand, crouch-walking towards the alley and scoping the place simultaneously. There were no other cars, no one else seemed to be in the alley but it was so dark that from my point of view the space between the buildings looked like a black hole, swallowing all the light around it.

"In here!" yelled Raph, catching the stream of my flashlight.

I ran there quickly and was shocked frozen by the sight before me.

In the ground in the circular window of light I pointed ahead was knelt Donatello, shell facing my way and from what it wasn't covering I could see Mikey laying on the ground as his head was slightly lifted in Leo's lap. His face was a mask of pain but he seemed to be holding in his sounds of discomfort as Donnie was working.

"Mikey!" I cried out, dropping on my knees by Don and trying to gauge what had happened.

There was blood, not a lethal amount but it was certainly getting there. I could see that the wound was on his shoulder but it was bleeding too much for me to tell what kind of wound it was.

When Don looked away from him and down at me my ears finally stopped beeping, my head cleared and all that was left was my instinct.

"Raph, help me make space in the car. Leo, Don, you'll have to get him in there. We're going to my place."

"It's too risky!" yelled Leo, leader voice on and resolve in his eyes burning.

"It's closer than the Lair and I have everything we need! Let's go, he's losing blood!"

Leo just gave a quick nod at Raph, a final stamp of approval.

The muscle and I ran out of the alley and to my SUV. The trunk was large and connected to the booth but it was still not large enough for three giant mutant turtles to fit in.

"Pull that lever and then push forward." I commanded, and in seconds the backseat became an extension of the trunk. I covered it with the plastic cover I used sometimes - inside out, hopefully that can provide some kind of clean environment. The windows were tinted enough to be legal and not draw too much attention, and simultaneously dark enough for the turtles to only look like just big dudes with bigger backpacks.

I shot back into the driver's seat, started the car and reversed as close as I could to the small gap between buildings, but it was far too tiny for my car to fit in, so they had to carry him a few feet.

"Okay, boys, bring him in." I hollered out the window. My leg was bouncing on the gas and I was seconds away from punching it all the way down but I waited patiently, I was scared that if Don and Leo rushed too much they might jostle Mikey and cause him too much pain and damage his shoulder.

I don't know how long it took for them to get him in there but I know that it felt like forever.

The passenger door opened and before I could react Leo was in there and all strapped in.

"Punch it!"

Aye, aye!

The ride back was even shorter, with fewer red lights and turns because I had my emergency lights on. The Chief thought it would be a good idea to have them even if this wasn't an official vehicle, and in that moment I was thankful and so happy to have been allowed that privilege.

It was unnerving how quiet it was, especially Mikey. I was not used to him being this silent and I was worried beyond belief. I'm only glad that my reflexes as a cop overpowered that worry.

Those short - probably - two minutes in the car, I used to familiarize the boys with the layout of my building and we all collectively came up with a plan of action.

I turned the lights and siren off right as I was turning the corner to Spencer Street so as to not draw too much unwanted attention to the car as I pulled back into the garage. Luckily enough the garage had an industry elevator to all the floors and my apartment's door was right in front of the elevator.

Raph carried Mikey out with care I've never seen from him, and went straight into the elevator that I pointed him to.

"Leo, Don, you go with them just in case. I'll call the elevator when it's clear and meet you upstairs. I'll try to be quick." there was no time to lose as the youngest's eyes weren't even open anymore.

God, please be okay, sunshine, please be okay!

I ran up the three flights of stairs and they were empty, as expected. I reached my floor, the motion-sensor light clicked on and I thanked all the gods in the world that I lived alone on this floor because no one wanted to be this close to the roof, for some reason.

I clicked the call button and heard the elevator come to life, then ran to unlock my door while I was waiting.

The odds of someone else getting on were minimal but still existed, but all I had left to do was pace and hope that it wouldn't click open on another floor.

It didn't!

All four turtles came out and I immediately opened the door. It was a bit tough for Raphael to fit through the door carrying Mikey because it was meant for short and puny humans but he somehow managed - perks of being a ninja, I guess - and as planned laid him down on the sectional in my living room.

Donnie kneeled by him immediately as I went to draw all the curtains, lock the door and then turn the lights on, after which I quickly ran to the wet room and got my heavy-ass medical suitcase. Or at least I tried.

"A little help, please!" I hollered across the hallway and in less than a second Raph came rushing in. He saw me struggling to lift the thing and seemed to get the gist. He lifted it like it weighed nothing. And that's how I knew those weren't Instagram muscles.

Raph carried it all the way to the sectional and set it next to Donnie. I opened the case and it revealed itself to be a well-sectioned and organized array of chemicals, supplies and instruments.

"You're gonna have to assist me." informed the genius, quickly finding the rubbing alcohol and lathering some on his hands and forearms for disinfection.

Hours passed as he worked meticulously on the wound and yet when I looked up at the clock on the wall it told me that it had only been 20 minutes.

Donnie was a good doctor. And I knew that because when he finished up with sewing, cleaning, and bandaging the - in retrospect, not-so-big - hole in Mikey's shoulder, he put a small Sponge Bob band-aid over the edge of it. It served absolutely no practical purpose but was still there nonetheless.

We were all finally calming once Dr. Don informed us that there was no serious damage done, there was just a lot of blood because a major arterie was grazed. We were all settling down - Don sat down on the remaining space on my sectional, to keep an eye on his bubbly brother, Raph sat in the window seat, and Leo took residence on the armchair by Mike's head.

"I still don't get why you have all this stuff." grumbled Donnie, his exhaustion immanent in his tone, "And how you got all of it."

"Well," my voice was raspy enough to convince me that I'd just woken up from a very long and peaceful nap, yet my brain was not on board with that, "the moment Chief Vincent and I shook hands on the whole 'handler' thing, I realized that if privacy is this important to you and you need a special squad and task force to take care of your business, then you must be in constant danger and hospitals are not on the table either. So," I got dropped my legs from the kitchen counter and stretched my arms over my head, "with Captain Holt's approval, I got a full ER equipment set and a quick course - that I still haven't finished, by the way - on how to deal with the worse types of a battle wound. It was only pure luck that you know how to use these things better than I do." I explain calmly and watch as the puzzle pieces find their place in Don's head.

"Smart."  mumbled Leo, "Good looking out." which made me snort a tired laugh. Shower me with compliments, honey, just talk me through the night.

"I'm a detective, it's my job."

"Yeah, well, someone might think ye're murderer with all tha’ blood everywhere." Raph's low exhausted growl ended my positive feedback loop and I finally started looking around the room.

The ginormous black plastic box that was the ER set was next to the sectional, now closed, with everything put back in there nicely, but the rest of the room wasn't in such a great condition. The coffee table was moved way, way back near the TV to give Donatello space to work around Mikey near the sectional. Both armchairs were in a similar position but that's not what I was worried about.

The three middle cushions as well as the entirety of the floor beneath them were covered in blood that was slowly starting to coagulate.

"It's leather, it will come off."

And I was really praising my work life for stopping me from investing in a carpet. The cherry laminate bellow the couch was going to be fine too probably. But I'm gonna have to find the time to clean that up.

Today after work perhaps... Not that many options out there... Or...

I grabbed a mop from the wet room and started mopping up around the bottom of the couch, just to keep that part pristine at least. It took less than 20 minutes to do that and perfect timing too because at about that point my stomach decided to rumble and make its presence known.

"Anyone hungry? I have lasagna from last night I can reheat."

It took some convincing but they all agreed with Donatello arguing that they would be eating around that time either way and that they needed nutrition to stay vigilant and focused. I just think he was tired and hungry.

About 5 when the anesthetics were starting to wear off, Mikey started to wiggle on the sectional and all three of his brothers rushed in to support him but he wasn't just wiggling, he was waking up. His bright baby blue eyes fluttered open as he blinked tiredly at the ceiling.

"Hey, have a nice nap, muffin top?" I smiled at him, resting my elbows on the back of the sectional and lean over his head to protect his eyes from the dimmed-down lamp over the room.

"Am I still asleep or are you just that much of a dream?" he flirted back, never missing a beat.

"You're fine, then." chuckled Leo in the corner.

"How you feeling, sugar? Does it hurt?" a bit more serious in tone this time until I see him wiggle his fingers and look at me with a small smile so I reached out and held his hand in mine.

"I'm a big turtle, I can handle it." I laughed at that one but I feel it might have been more out of relief than anything else.

Good, I just hope I can handle it too.

Chapter Text

05:45? EST

175 Spencer Street, NY

5 MONTHS TO GO

Splinter had been updated on Mikey's current state, Mikey had eaten a bit, flirted a bit more and we were all finally relieved that he will not be losing his arm any time soon because he had gone to scratch his eye at some point with that same arm without flinching.

"I think you guys should stay here for the day. " I say nonchalantly, looking down at my cooling cup of coffee, "Sun rises in about 6:30 and by then, there's far too many people walking around town." I thought of another strategy but quickly dismissed it myself, "I could drive you to the nearest manhole with relatively secure location but I don't think we should push Mikey's arm so quickly." the whole time I look at Leo and just wait for the moment when he will say that my input was never asked for nor needed. That didn't happen though.

He just gave a thoughtful nod and looked at all three of his brothers scattered around the room," What do you guys say?"

"Staying over at Detective Cute's place? Count me in, man!" I just cackled at that one, a literal cackle but I could not hold it in, but it quickly simmered down, considering the situation.

"Donnie?"

He seemed a bit conflicted, his face was its constant mask of thought and calculation but it had another thing added to it. My guess? Worry.

"Well, it would be the most logical string of action. We have a high chance of being seen if we turn to leave now. And we can't even go at our usual pace or we risk tearing Mikey's stitches. Even then, if we do make it to the sewers unseen, there's mold, dust, sewage - the wound could get infected at any point." he diplomatically didn't give a definitive answer but gave enough data for the leader to make up him own mind, and it's something he seemed to do often.

Before Leo could ask, the muscle had already given a nod of agreement.

"So, it is settled." he finally leveled me with a steely blue gaze and asked, "Lee, would you mind us staying here until the sun sets?"

Would I mind?!

"Would I mind, Leo? I offered! It's the most logical way, you heard what Don said."

Leo sighed, looked down at the ground, then back up at me and gave me a rare little smile, "Thank you!"

"Anytime!"

Ring ring! Ring ring!

No, that can't be!

"What's that?" mumbled the youngest, his good arm waving over the back of the sectional in distress.

"My alarm clock."

How is it 7 already?

"Okay, boys!" I call, unplugging my phone from the charger and turning the alarm off - why in this order? Because I was tired - and going to start my morning routine, "Fridge is full, I have Netflix and Amazon Prime, I'll be back by six but you don't have to wait for me if you don't want to. I'll have to leave for work in about an hour and a half, we can order something for breakfast if you want, just holler. Just give me 30 minutes to make myself presentable. " I went to make myself a cup of coffee, taking out all the ingredients I will need.

"Anyone want some coff…ee.. "

As I turned I noticed Leo and Raph had each taken residence on either of the armchairs on both sides of the sectional. I saw their eyes were shut, I could hear their soft breaths and see the synchronized rise and fall of their chests.

"I wouldn't mind one..." chimed Donnie, taking a seat on one of the bar stools by the kitchen isle, "if... it's not a problem." he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his beak (I googled it, that's the correct term) and I couldn't help but smile.

"I repeat: I offered." I turned to grab a mug from the overhead cupboard, "How do you like it?"

"Double shot, black."

"Ahh, you seem like the type." I giggle, nonchalantly - you can learn a lot about a person by the way they take their coffee.

"Really? How?" he seemed playfully confused, but under the surface he seemed genuinely curious to hear my answer.

"Well," Okay you backed yourself into a corner there, good, great! Do not blow it, Ivan! Don't be creepy! "you're an efficient fella, anyone with half a brain cell could tell that, so it would make sense that you take a double shot - twice the bang in one cup. No sugar, milk or any additives speaks of a down to earth, no-nonsense kind of personality and I would even dare wager that you would normally prefer drip or filter coffee to espresso, because to you, coffee doesn't have to be fancy to work - it's a stimulant, not a philosophy." Oh, sure, deconstruct his entire personality while you're at it... Not creepy at all! "Did I get that right?"

I made a 180 turn with his coffee in my hands and passed it to him over the counter, and while my hands were doing that, my eyes could not get enough of the look of bewilderment on his face. Why is he this surprised, he's definitely capable of making far more complex observations?

"That was... spot on!" Don't smile at me, Don! Cause when you do, the dimples on your cheeks show up and the one on your chin becomes cuter! "How could you deduce all of that? Or were you guessing?"

"As I said before, I'm a detective, it's what I do." that and I've spent an indecent amount of time analyzing and studying the brothers' movements and choices in day-to-day circumstances to try and get a gist of their overall personalities.

Still though, some of my barista days were coming back to me little by little in moments like these.

"I have coffee down to a science. I can tell you how a person takes their coffee by their personality and the other way around." I state confidently while steaming the milk for my own cup, and at that very moment I gave myself a proverbial pat on the back for paying a bit extra for the noise cancellation set for this machine.

"And what do your preferences say about you then?" he prompted, leaning over the counter, mug in one hand, eyes slightly squinted in what I thought was tiredness - but his posture seemed on point, his voice was clear and no other signs pointed to that being the reason for his expression. No, that was a challenge in his golden eyes, and since I couldn't see his mouth that was my best guess.

"Well," I turn with my full cup and level him with the same look, just coming from a few feet lower, "why don't you tell me?"

He snorted a chuckle and lowered his mug back down to the counter top, and when his mouth was in full display, his wide cupid's bow lips curled into a small smile.

"Let's see..." he leaned forward arms now fully laying on the counter observing my features and, hopefully, my cup of coffee, "I timed the duration of coffee dispensing - 30 seconds, that's a standard espresso shot - meaning you like doing things by the book. You added milk - low fat, steamed it for about a minute, barely any foam - you try to get more quantity without watering down the quality, meaning its more of a ritual to you than just necessity. And finally, a spoonful of honey - you watch your diet and care for the environment but you still like to enjoy the sweet things in life, whenever the occasion comes." He lifts his mug back up to his mouth and before taking a sip, he smugly looks down at the hot liquid and asks, "Did I get that right?"

Why does this feel like flirting? And why am I loving it? I should not be able to taste my own pulse...

"Jesus fuck!" rumbled a deep voice from the living room, "Get a room, nerds!"

"Sorry, Raph!" I mumbled halfheartedly.

I made a mistake to look at the clock on the wall.

07:46

Oh, fuck! When did time decide to go at x2 speed?!

"Okay, I gotta get ready for work."

I unenthusiastically went through the motions of my morning routine, which I had now shortened to be able to fit in the smaller time frame.

I returned to the living room in a pair of clean black stretchy jeans, a tan shirt and some 2.5 inch booties. I quickly tie my hair in a low bun on the back of my head and shove a long ornamented silver pin through it, the small crescent moon pendant dangling around.

08:25 EST

I had to go through and reorganize my messenger bag in like 5 as the night before when they'd called I had to dump the whole thing out to find my car keys. I was nervous that I'd be late and so I then did what I usually do when I'm nervous - I ranted.

"Okay, here are the keys, just lock the top one if you go and shoot me a text to let me know. I have some snacks in the cupboards. Make yourselves at home. If the couch and armchairs get too uncomfortable there's the guestroom down the hall from the bathroom. Don't hesitate to use anything or call if you need anything." I was speaking so quickly that I don't even know if they understood me at all.

When I looked up, I saw Donnie by the counter, all three other turtles were still - from what I could see - sound asleep.

"We'll be okay, don't worry." he reassured, "And thank you. Again."

I sigh and shoulder my bag, car keys in hand.

"It's nothing, Don. Really." I couldn't bear his intense eye contact in that moment so I quickly added, "There's also an entire bookcase to sort through in my room if you get bored. And another one with video games too."

He smiled and nodded in response.

"Yes, ma'am."

With those final words I shut my front door went to call the elevator. When it came, I had to lay my back against one of the walls, close my eyes for a second and take a deep breath.

This handler thing may be way tougher than I thought....

Chapter Text

16:35 EST

99th Brooklyn Precinct, NY

 5 MONTHS TO GO

The day was drawing to a close, in fact I only had just little longer to go before I could finally leave and enjoy my weekend.

Raph had texted me that they hadn't left yet because a maintenance team had blocked the closest manhole and it wasn't dark enough for them to get to the next one yet, and I told him it was fine and they could stay the night if they wanted to.

I had opened and closed a sexual assault case today, which is always a bit of a downer when it happens but it will happen, and the good news is that I put another pervert behind bars. After closing that by noon and finishing up the paperwork I had nothing to do for about 40 minutes, other than wonder about what might greet me when I get home.

I knew the brothers would stay for a bit longer, until the sun set at least, and I knew two out of four of them were mature enough to not fully trash my place. Mikey and Raph, I feel, could be reined in by Leo and Don, and the youngest was still probably in a bit too much pain to be jumping around and enjoying free movement. But I've been wrong.

In that second I wondered how strange it would be to come home to someone. And then I countered myself with Well, why would that be strange? People do that every day, it's more the norm than the exception.

Well, that is true, but for some people. Not me.

It would be outside of the norm for me. I'm used to coming back to an empty apartment, finding it exactly the way I'd left it - no one waited up for me when I stayed late at work, no one greeted me with a fresh meal, or a finished laundry or with my groceries taken care of. I never even had a pet. I've always wanted one but I never really got around to doing it and even if I did they would still take a back seat to my work.

While it was a very unusual thing to think about it was still a warm thought. And not warm like a leather car seat that's been glared at by the sun for a couple of hours. Warm like a cup of hot cocoa with little marshmallows in it, or an old knit blanket.

But my plans were, as per usual, foiled.

16:49 EST

99th Brooklyn Precinct, NY

"What's up with this emergency meeting?" Rosa Diaz, you're truly the voice of a generation!

"Whoa, Detective Santiago!" people whooped and hollered at Santiago's new getup which was so not her style and not flattering to her but was so far outside her usual look that we couldn't help but be shocked by it. Pink is not her color.

"Big date tonight. How do I look?"

"Pink is not your color." I should start thinking before I speak...

"Well, I think you look..." started Peralta, seconds later donkey braying could be heard from his phone. Okay, rude but funny.

"Detective Peralta has made a collar in the jewelry store heist." announced Holt, but it didn't have the usual weight of accomplishment to it - something was off about this collar.

Boyle being Boyle tried to congratulate Jake but he - stranger still - refused it. What have you done, Peralta?

"No!" exclaimed Holt, unusual anger soaking through the words, "He didn't get enough evidence to make it stick so we have the next 48 hours to fix his mistake." There it is...

Groans, and growls, and all forms of disapproval and anger hit the thin walls of the briefing room and I'm surprised nobody went in for a punch or two. He did deserve it.

"If we don't find something conclusive, it jeopardizes the case and opens the department up to a lawsuit." I didn't have to like the facts for them to be facts. That being said, I didn't like hearing that.

It didn't only jeopardize that one case. If the precinct was open to investigation by IA we're all colorfully fucked. Me and Holt more so than everyone else. This could cost both, if not all of us our jobs, our integrity, and everything we stand for.

I tried not to storm out of the briefing room and did my best to focus on whatever else was being said, however that wasn't as easy as I might have thought.

Peralta may have just cost me my job, and reputation, my career and everything I've fought for all my life. I did my best not to think of it that way but it was hard when I had the curse of logical thought.

I'm gonna have to solve this case, aren't I? Here goes another weekend...

I was sure this case wasn't unsolvable, the odds of that were low but to be compressed into a tiny 48-hour box is a bit of a stretch to our capabilities as detectives.

This is gonna be a long weekend.

I made sure to send a group text to the Turtle brothers that I will NOT be making it home tonight and that they shouldn't wait for me as I will probably be at the precinct for the better part of the weekend. Don responded with worry and a bunch of questions (Are you in trouble? Was it our last case? I thought you said that paperwork would be easy!), Mikey described in detail how much it hurt him that I won't be able to come over for the weekend, and Leo and Raph both decided to stay relatively reserved and replied with a polite acknowledgement.

You know, for how much they fight and how different they are on surface level, they can sometimes be absolutely identical in relation to their motivations and feelings. They just express themselves differently...

1:35 EST

99th Brooklyn Precinct, NY

On Friday evening, the Captain had tried to kick me and Jeffords out because he'd worked two doubles back to back and I'd been on a constant 24-hour shift for the past two months. We both gave our reasons as to why we should stay, mine being 'Peralta is a buffoon and I'm not losing my job over his stupid impulsive mistakes' and the Sarge saying something about not being tired, which we could all tell was bullshit but let it slide for the sake of the case.

We had made no progress on the case all night and at about 1 I'd decided to peace out - go home, take a shower, get a snack, rest a bit and then go back.

Diaz had seen me try to leave without being noticed and had found me in the locker room.

As I was picking up my bag and some things from my locker, a hand slammed loudly on the metal door next to me forcing me to raise my gaze to it.

Short-filed nails, strong but feminine hands and the sleeve of a leather jacket.

Okay don't freak out, it's just Rosa. You're coworkers, she's not gonna hurt you. Well, I kinda wish she would... No! Just turn around see what she wants, and don't show her you're intimidated!

"Well, hello there, Diaz." I try to keep my voice casual and unbothered even if my heart was racing.

"I know you live nearby and I know you're leaving the precinct to go there right now." as she states that, I slowly turn to face her and oh boy her hand hadn't moved which meant that she was partially blocking my way. Was she oozing heat or was that me?

I didn't ask, nor did I care how she knew that or why she'd bothered to deduce it but there was one thing I wanted to know.

"What of it?" I cross my arms over my chest, messenger bag dangling from my shoulder and I leveled her with a cool and collected glare. I will not be bullied into submission, even if it was by the hottest woman on earth.

"I need to be away from this place for at least an hour so I don't kill someone." it's not an offer, or a question. It's a demand. But I still refuse to back down.

"What's in it for me?" This is why you have no friends.

"What do you want?" Now we're talking! But what do I want... Other than...

"A favor that I'll call in at some point." realistically speaking, I had no idea what that would be used for, there was no reason for me to ask for a favor. But I'd already backed myself into a corner with this opportunistic facade, and I was not going to back out of it and show her I was in fact intimidated by her.

"Fine!"

"Cool, be by the elevators downstairs in 10, I'll go first so we won't leave together and raise suspicion."

Oh my god, Rosa Diaz is coming to my place! Okay keep it cool! Keep it cool!

Ah shit, I hope the turtles left the place decent...

2:05 EST

175 Spencer Street, Brooklyn

I was a bit anxious, and a bit nervous, and a little bit stunned by the situation, but very, very excited for it. This strong, brilliant, beautiful woman is in my apartment for the first time, in the middle of the night and she did not seem to be rushing to go back.

Don't get your hopes up! And don't act like a puppy. Grow a spine for fuck's sake!

I unlocked the door, entirely expecting my whole apartment to look like the building was flipped on it's head a couple times over but instead I was greeted by the smell of cleaning agents and incense (no doubt courtesy of Leonardo), lack of blood on my couch and floor, and a single note on the kitchen counter.

I took my shoes off at the door and shot in to the piece of paper on the faux granite counter top.

There's a four cheese pizza in the fridge, and some soda and pie. We tried to clean up as much as possible so you wouldn't have to when you come back from work.

Thank you, Goldilocks!!!

The text was written in two different handwritings. The first paragraph was sharp and clean and non-serifed and the second one had more of a messy artist, calligraphy-type feel to it.

I could guess who the second one was but the first one was a bit of a mystery with two possible outcomes. Hmm...

A warm fuzzy feeling spread through my chest and a smile spread over my face.

So nice to have someone who cares....

"What's that?" Rosa was behind me before I could react to her approaching and I was too distracted to hear her do so.

"Uhm... A note... From a friend..." I stuttered simultaneously unsure how to answer and delighted by the little welcome surprise.

"From your green friends maybe?" it wasn't really a question; it was a statement. And she was right.

Damn you, dazzling woman!

Dude, why is she standing so close? I can feel her body heat! Please step back, I don't like it!

My breathing got hard and quick my pupils dilated and I felt like I might be sweating. As much as I enjoyed Rosa's company I did not appreciate her closeness. I know she wasn't bothered by it, but I was.

"Uhm, yeah." I forced out a simple confirmation, shuffling out of the way and going to make myself a cup of coffee (I may have a problem...), more so to put some distance between us than anything else, effectively cutting off the conversation.

Way to go, stupid!

Thankfully, I knew she wasn't one to follow and over-analyze social conventions the way most people did. I knew she had her own way of communicating and didn't need social ques to be told how to behave.

"How's that going, by the way?" when she said that I gave a, hopefully, inaudible sigh of relief - at least I hadn't come off as a dick.

"It's...okay... Exhausting, but... Good." I didn't know how to put into words that it was pretty much like working on the force only far more engaging because I was on the job 24/7; that you get everything that comes with police work, like comradery, loyalty, friendship and sense of accomplishment, but to the 100th power, because these guys didn't have that many more options; that the stress and fear and anxiety that every NYPD officer carries around constantly is multiplied exponentially because the stakes were so much higher and the potential exit protocols - minimal. I didn't know how to explain to her that I could feel myself collapsing under the pressure of my daytime job, the one I had at night and the imposing figure of the Sergeant's exam in less than 5 months.

"What are they like?" she asks, genuinely curious, and I realized that outside of that one night none of the squad had actually met the turtles.

"They're like..." How do you describe a family of four ninja turtles and a rat with a variety of different interests and skills and personalities, who make up the perfect team in every way possible, and are just so much fun to hang around? "...the coolest people ever. "

I giggle as I say that, a myriad of memories flooding my head at once.

"They're all badasses, first and foremost. I mean they are ninjas, but they also do a bunch of different things. And they're so much fun. " I take a sip out of my coffee and ask if she'd like one, to which she replied with a mumbled "No, thanks."

"You like 'em?"

"Hell, yeah, I like them!"

"Cool. Cuz if they ever give you grief, I'll kill 'em."

Whaaaaaaa.... Did you just... Are you defending me...?

"Don't worry, they're good guys." I am not nervous. Not nervous at all. "But thanks anyway." she just nodded.

And I take that opportunity to introduce her to my - as Mikey might put it - crib.

"If you wanna nap before going back to the precinct, there's the guest bedroom, there's pizza and pie or we can order in..." I wasn't sure where I was going with this, but the whole sentence was proof of a long-standing problem I've had with social interactions - fear of silence.

But again, this was Rosa, she didn't need me to feel the silence, she thrived in silence.

"Nah, I think I'm gonna just chill for a bit." she, said, dropping over the side of the sectional, and crossing one ankle over the other.

"Fair enough."

Did that sound far too anxious or was it just me?

Why am I like this?

Chapter Text

03:10 EST

175 Spencer Street, Brooklyn

 5 MONTHS TO GO

Detective Rosa Diaz was an interesting woman.

And by interesting I mean, I don't know jackshit about her and I am very curious but too scared to ask as it might cause me extreme harm, so I never did ask, therefore it remained a mystery.

How could you look so comfortable and at home at a place you've never been to before? Was it because she was confident she could never be caught off guard? Hmm...

Either way, Diaz and I had a snack, a drink, watched Die Hard (We only did it so we could annoy Peralta, and truth be told, it's not that great a movie.) and at some point we decided its about time we got back.

But then Diaz lifted her arm and stuck her nose into her armpit.

"Ugh, I need a shower!"

First off, why was I surprised - this looks exactly like something she'd do. Second, what kind of smell did she detect to have that kind of reaction and reach that specific conclusion?

"I uhm..." brain... not computing... words... "I could uhm... lend you some clothes... I have an extra toothbrush, just in case..." my eyes were drying out because of how wide they were open and because I wasn't blinking but in that moment, my brain was trying to comprehend far more complex concepts, so simple physiological needs took a back seat.

"Cool." and then a still, thick silence.

She just looked at me expectantly for a second.

Uhh... Oh!

"Uhm, ba-bathroom's the first door... on the left."

"Thanks." How did she manage an even tone like that while I was sweating bullets and stuttering like back third grade? I need to ask her how she keeps her cool some time.

She stood up, went to the bathroom, but instead of sparing my fragile little heart, she went and dropped her jacket on the before she'd entered the room, and not a second later her shirt and jeans were on the floor too.

Oh, my god, NO! This is torture! Look away, you creep!

Needless to say, nothing much happened other than me being on edge for the next 40 minutes until we were both pristine and ready for work again. I let Rosa borrow some of my jeans and a shirt, and pretended that it didn't mean the world to me, and we were off to the precinct.

We entered separately so as to not raise suspicion and were immediately pelted with Peralta's constant need to talk.

"Ugh, I can't believe you two live nearby and you won't let anyone crash at your place." Rosa and I exchanged quick looks and she went along with the script we made up.

"You already know too much about me."

"And what's your excuse, Ivan? Huh? You hiding a body there?" God, lower your voice Peralta, how do you have this much energy?

"I don't owe you an excuse and you're not coming to my place cause I don't want you to Jake it up." I gave him an evil villain smirk, and since, as he'd told me, 'I'm no fun' he seemed to go back to bantering with anyone who'd indulge him.

I will skip the part about how nothing got solved the entire day - we played tic-tac-toe on the whiteboard in the briefing room, tasted pies, tried to do some work but nothing got done - because we literally had NO evidence - What the fuck, Peralta!? - and at around noon I finally started experiencing the weight of the three sleepless nights I've had to power through. Don't get me wrong, I don't usually sleep much - two to three hours a night is the best I can do, but when I forego that too, that's when it becomes a bit of a problem.

I'd skipped sleeping on Thursday because I was finishing up a case, I'd done so on Friday as well, because of the Turtle emergency and today is Saturday - there was no life-or-death situation to keep my adrenaline up - and I was starting to feel some nine-hours-of-sleep-heavier.

By the time the clock in the precinct hit five I could feel my organism slowly disassembling. My heart rate was high, like I'd been chasing a perp for a couple of miles, because of the amount of coffee and energy drinks I'd downed, my brain was fuzzy, eyes unfocused and hands - shaky.

I had been staring at the clock unmoving, nearly unblinking for who knows how long, when I felt an unidentified warmth on my shoulder. It took a while for me to realize I was not hallucinating and that the warm spot felt like a hand. I turned, saw dark skin under a finely-pressed white shirt, and as I followed it up, it became clear that that was Captain Holt.

Ahhhh, shiit... I was slacking... And he caught me...

Even my anxiety-driven thoughts lacked their usual bite and were barely coherent at that point which only goes to show what state of taters my mind was in.

As I looked up at the Captain's dark and calculating, yet warm chocolate eyes, I tried to determine what may come next, but I was in barely the best of shape. The guy was an unreadable enigma on the best of days and this was not my best of days.

"Go home, Ivan."

Was that an order? Or a request? Did it come from captain Holt - my CO, or from Raymond Holt - my...?

What was he to me? A friend? Well no, barely - I didn't know much about him and I doubt he knew all that much about me. An acquaintance? Well, sure, more like it but, that would still imply that we had any interactions outside of work. Which we haven't.

My head just nodded. Without my thought, command, or consent, it had given him a sign of agreement, and since there was nothing left to do after he left, I started picking up my things.

I barely remember walking, going down the elevator to the parking lot, and getting to my car, but when I did get my bearings, I was in the driver's seat.

I regret to say, that the question of safety, of whether I should be driving at all in this state, never even crossed my mind. I wasn't worried that I could fall asleep behind the wheel, or that my reaction time was much longer than it would be under normal circumstances. I just sat back in the comfortable leather seat and, by some kind of a miracle, didn't cause an accident or kill people. And even more miraculously, when I'd exited the parking lot, somehow, some mysterious way, I had gone down a road I'd gone down only twice.

Cortlandt Alley.

The representation of all that is New York. Trash, pollution, stink and manhole covers.

That's why I'd gone there.

I was subconsciously worried about Mikey.

I didn't have the time to think about how I might come off or if it would be rude to just drop in unannounced, as I'd rationed with myself while going down the steps, that if I don't go to check on the guys, I wouldn't be able to sleep at all, and in hindsight, that was a pretty accurate statement.

I'd walked for an unknown amount of time, just kind of following the directions Donnie had given me once, that I didn't know I remembered, but apparently the human mind is far more efficient when tired and half asleep. How counterintuitive is that?

My phone rang. I picked up.

"Lee, is that you?"

Donnie!

"What do you mean, Don?"

"My motion sensors are showing movement in the southern tunnels. Is that you?" he clarified.

"Yeah, it's me. I wanted to check on Mikey."

How am I at the door already?

The door opened and the tallest turtle stood on the other side, bo in hand - probably in case I'd said that it wasn't me walking the tunnels near their home. He looked in a state of disarray himself, his eyes weren't a bright gold like they usually were, they were dull and tired, the whites of his eyes were more on the red-pink side than white, and his shoulders were sagged and a bit hunched over.

"Hey." he greeted tiredly, stepping aside to let me in, his voice was lower than usual, a bit on the gravellier side, which again lead me to believe he hadn't had much time to rest either.

"Hi." I say back, as I make my way through the circular opening.

The usually bright and electrifying energy of the Lair, with all of its neons and pastels, and gadgets and trinkets just intensified my headache, and burned my eyes like a vampire in the sun.

"Anything to drink? Some coffee maybe?" he offered politely as we passed the kitchen area.

"No, thanks." I just looked at the ground trying to find the resolve to not down another caffeine-intense drink and risk hard-reseting my heart, "I don't think I should." I sounded uncertain, because I was, but in that moment I lacked the filter to keep that thought to myself.

I just saw him give a slight nod with my peripheral.

I have to ask though. Just in case...

"How's he doing?"

A beat of silence.

"Who? Mikey?" he seemed confused by that and it was pretty easy to tell even if exhaustion had dulled his emotional expression a bit.

Yeah? Who else?

I don't say that though, and I think it was either because I didn't have the energy for sass or wasn't sure if he had the energy to put up with it.

"Oh, he's fine. Wound's clean and pretty much fine now. The tissue will most likely be rebuilt in a week and I'll give him another week to recover fully, but he's already feeling better. I gave him some minor anesthetics to help him with the pain about ten minutes ago though, so he might be a bit sleepy." we reached the 'Needle Room' I know the name is accurate but it doesn't mean it doesn't creep me out! where Mikey was laying with his phone in his uninjured hand and you could hear from the entrance of the room some gun and explosion sound effects.

"Oh, hey there, Goldilocks!" he yawned and still somehow sounded energetic which is something only this one turtle, and no one else, could pull off.

"Hey, there, gumdrop! How's the arm? You gonna live?" I questioned half-heartedly, kind of already having an idea of what the response may be.

"Much better since you're here!" his playful flirting always managed to make my day.

Classic Mikey.

"You okay, though?" Mikey shuffles in his bed a bit, wincing for just a second, to sit up.

"Uhm... I-I..." I stammered, unsure of the answer myself, "I uhm, I'll be fine."

He just nodded, and yawned, eyes suddenly drooping.

Oh, poor baby, he must be tired from having his entire body working with impossible speed to repair itself...

In less than a minute he was snoring softly, head falling deeper into his pillows - a picture of tranquility.

"Wanna wait for Raph and Leo? They're out on patrol, but they should be back in a bit. " Donnie's voice broke my focus on the sleeping turtle and prompted me to turn back to him, noticing that he looked much taller up from less than a foot away. We'd never stood this close before - him seeming to enjoy his personal bubble, and me having a weird relationship with physical contact.

I shouldn't. I should go home and sleep off whatever is wrong with me.

"I'd love that."

I have a problem.

I ended up downing another cup of coffee anyway. I should get my heart checked.

Don apologized for not having a fancy coffee machine which I reassured him was fine and that I only got mine when I started making a decent income. We sat on the living room couch, for an hour just talking, about nothing really. There was a show playing on TV as background noise - Donnie's specific words were "So Mikey doesn't try to eavesdrop instead of resting."

It was an odd sensation wanting to share this much about myself, I usually felt uncomfortable with this type of interaction.

I told him about the whole Whitman debacle, and I also told him that I'd gotten an update from Peralta while walking to the Lair, and that the whole thing was over now. I was confused at myself as this had somewhat slipped into the background instead of being at the forefront of my mind. Work was usually the largest portion of my day, the highest of my priorities, but somehow today was different. I shared that with him as well, and his assessment was that something else had moved it from top to second-to-top priority, that something mattered to me more that my job did.

I mean, I was in the Lair while most of my colleagues had just left the bullpen. It was clear to both of us what the higher priority was, but we kept it under a veil of subtleties and social norms. Ugh.

As the city outside grew darker and colder, I got warmer in the couch seat, the conversation grew more and more hushed, more and more intimate.

We talked about mortgage rates, university, the economy, our hopes and dreams, the current state of the ocean, how lonely we could both be sometimes and the importance of family.

The warmth I felt in that moment was something I hadn't ever thought I'd feel, and something I didn't want to let go of.

Chapter Text

???

The Lair

5 MONTHS TO GO

"...do... think... comfortable...?"

"...looks very..."

Falling water.

Overhead rumbling.

Soft mumbling coming from somewhere.

Pine airfreshener.

Leather.

Cleaning detergent.

"... don't... dare take... picture..."

"Oh, come on!"

Mikey?

I moved my hand around to try and find my phone. I noticed that I wasn't actually fully laying down, I was propped up halfway, kneeling on something soft and unfamiliar. My hand, instead of sliding over my soft, freshly-washed sheets, wandered over a hard, uneven and somewhat warm surface.

Wood? A chair? No. What kind of a chair would that be?

I drag my nails lightly over it to get an idea of what it may be. It vibrates and simultaneously I hear and feel a low rumble, like a growl, from directly above my head.

My eyes shot open, my back straightened, my mind was suddenly awake.

There was Donnie, eyes peacefully closed under his skewed glasses, mouth slightly agape, shell leaned into the couch cushion. His breathing was slow and rhythmic, as shown by his plastron's slow rise and fall.

That's what I was laying on. Don's chest.

As if sensing my embarrassment, he started stirring from his sleep. His hand went to rub at his eye and fix his glasses.

"Oh, no, don't stop your cuddling on our account!"

I whipped my head back, eyes still hazy and dry, to see Mikey with his phone in one hand, camera aimed my way, and Raph, with his arms crossed over his chest and a cheeky half smirk on his face.

"Quit it, Mikey!" I heard Leo but the echo of the rarely-quiet Lair carried voice so I couldn't tell where it was coming from.

Wait, hold up!

"What time is it?" my voice was low and my throat was scratchy but I think it got my messenger through nonetheless.

Mikey looked back to his phone screen, looking a bit confused as to why that's my first thought.

"Uhh, like 10:30..."

Fuck!

I quickly get up and immediately start looking for my bag and phone. My boots were off for some reason - I probably kicked them off at some point.

I am fucked. Thoroughly, infinitely, immensely fucked. I am 90 minutes late. Is there even a point in going in at all if I'm gonna be fired? Yes, there is, I need to preserve whatever dignity I have!

"Hey, what's up? You okay?" I could tell the question came from a relatively worried red-banded turtle but I couldn't be bothered to turn back and reply with the minimal amount of manners.

"No, I'm uber late and I will be fired for it. My life is over and so is my career. I will never be employed again in anything more than a fast food restaurant-"

"Lee!" Donnie bellowed.

"What?"

"It's Sunday." and that took a second to set in. Once it did, the bag strap slipped from my hand, I crumbled in a heap on the floor, knees hit the concrete floor, a tidal wave of relief and shame washing over me.

And my system reacted to shame like it does to any other awkward situation. I laughed.

"I have a problem." I state openly, despite my constant attempts to keep myself a closed book.

It was very much a desperate sound and to the naked eye I probably looked insane. Crumbled up on my knees on the ground, hands over my face, with my shoulders bouncing up and down with laughter, that sounded more like mournful hiccups, which was steadily turning into breathless sobs.

"Hey... Hey, it's okay." I felt a three-fingered hand on my shoulder, as Don's soothing voice floated through the still air.

He used to be scared of my little freak out sessions - or as he called them "panic attacks". I never really payed much attention to my mental health before meeting the turtles, apart from a psych eval that we need to pass every once in a while so our superiors could make sure we're stable and capable of working on the field. And Dr. Hillary (she never told me her last name) never mentioned me needing to change anything in the way I operate (other than the fact that I treat my job as a way to justify my own existence which, what does that even mean?) so I just carried on as usual.

Then, I signed up for the Sergeant's exam, I met the turtles, I got the task force, and as a result my stress levels were cranked up to a thousand and all of a sudden I found myself crushed under the weight. Luckily, Donnie was there to carry it with me.

The first time I had a massive, aggressive, embarrassing freakout was when I was trying to solve a homicide case. I'd taken all of my notes home, along with anything I could sneak out without it being illegal, and tried to continue working, and during a tiny break I'd taken something in my head had snapped. I had collapsed to the floor, started hyperventilating, and no air to my lungs meant no air in my brain. I remember dark spots quickly taking over my vision until I felt that same warm three-fingered hand on my shoulder and a deep worried voice speaking to me as if in an aquarium. It sounded drowned and yet echoed around my scull. I didn't recognize any of the words, and when I finally raised my gaze to look through my tears and blurry discolored vision, the face didn't look familiar either.

The hand on my shoulder moved down to my arm and another reciprocated on my other arm. The hands did a slow and gentle up-and-down massage, over and over until my breathing seemed to even out a bit.

"Breathe with me, okay? Just breathe!" my brain was finally able to retain some of what the voice was saying. It was a rich, warm tone of worry and care, and experience and knowledge. It was just low enough to ground me but not low enough to bury my already fragile mind.

"Lee, it's me! Donnie! Can you hear me?" the voice was still hitting my ears in the wrong way but I could understand it now.

Donnie!

I had been so short for breath that I couldn't muster up the strength to reply, opting to instead nod in response.

"Okay, okay! That's great!" he giggled anxiously, "Now I'm gonna need you to breathe with me, okay?" a nod again, "Okay, good. Deep inhale..." he demonstrated and I did my best to follow through my hiccups and tears, "... and exhale" and I did.

It had taken me a while to get my bearings, blink away the oceans in my eyes and get my head to clear from the fog. The moment I had, I'd thrown myself at him, arms wound tight around his neck and shell.

Leather.

Pine.

Something distinctly Donnie.

I think that was the moment I realized I may have more than admiration and platonic love for this specific turtle.

Later that night, Don had explained to me that he had been meaning to pay me a visit to drop off some of his own notes and files, had seen the light on and me on the floor, and despite his manners had let himself in through the window. He was visibly shaken by that, and I really didn't understand why - he's almost literally brought his brothers back from death and his hands never shook then, why did he seem so distressed with me? It nagged at me all night, even after he left, and opened that giant hole in my head that's filled with self-doubt and anxiety.

However, as time progressed and my panic attacks started getting more and more frequent, Donnie was 9 times out of 10, with me, and was able to take me off my destructive downwards spiral.

"Breathe with me, okay?" somehow that breathing exercise never works without him in the scene. I've tried it before and I've tried it after I met him, and it is never as effective as it is with him around.

He kneeled on the floor closer to me, hands on my upper arms, massaging slowly, looking down at me with his eyes of molten gold.

"Inhale...." I did, and the scent of him immediately made an impact on my mind.

Pine.

Leather.

The coffee grounds from yesterday.

Cleaning alcohol from the Needle room.

Donnie.

"... and exhale." How could I immediately feel better after one cycle? Is it because I was getting better at managing my own mental health or was it because Donnie was there with me the whole time?

A few more repetitions of the breathing exercise served to clear the fog that filled my head, clear my sight and put me back on the ground.

This time however instead of throwing myself at the tall turtle, I stayed still in my kneeling position, with my arms around myself. The shame and embarrassment had quickly taken over me immediately after I was calm enough to process them.

They all saw my breakdown.

I tried not to spiral from there but it wasn't all that easy. Yes, I knew the boys well enough by now to know they wouldn't call for my replacement and resignation just because of this, but that's the thing about fear and shame - they're not usually rational.

It was humiliating to have such a reaction to basically nothing in front of your coworkers, what's left for your heroes. I couldn't look anyone in the eye and I didn't hear another turtle approach until I was bathed in his shadow.

"Hey, Goldilocks." I'd never heard Mikey speak so softly ever before, like he was talking to a scared puppy. "It's okay, not every day is a good day." I hated it. "We're all here to help, you just need to call." I felt like he was patronizing me. I knew he wasn't but I felt like he was. Feelings, once again - irrational, unexplainable, and just sometimes a pain in the ass.

He sat on the floor in front of me with his legs crossed, left arm wrapped in bandage and held up by another. He slung his other arm around my back and leaned his head over mine, in one of the warmest hugs I've ever had.

Before I could process that in my fickle mind state, I noticed Leo and Raph sat down just as their younger brother had, legs crossed and looking at me.

"You put too much pressure on yourself." declared Leo with a small smile on his face.

"And ya keep forgetin' we're a team now." Raph finished the sentence, giving my shoulder a small push with his knuckles.

I was suddenly cocooned in warmth and safety.

These guys care about me. They genuinely do.

I was struck by how quickly it had all happened and yet how much these guys meant to me. Not in the way I'd though originally - yes, the task force would look good on my CV for future job application but I've come to value the people and relationships that came from it far more than just being able to say I had my own task force before I was 30.

Mikey let his arm fall from my back, effectively releasing me from his embrace but before I could process that another arm wound itself around my waist and another went under my bent knees and I was suddenly propelled into the air.

"What the hell!" I exclaimed, arms latching onto the closest thing they could find.

"Ya need a break, little lady." Raph's deep voice sounded like thunder above my head, "And we know ya ain't takin' it so we gonna have to force ya to."

With his wide strides we reached the couch again in about five steps, and that was the first time I noticed that in my incoherent rambling and running around I'd nearly reached the door. He lowered me to the cushions and dropped me as gently as he had Mikey just two nights ago on my sectional. The gesture felt special to me, even if it probably meant nothing to him.

Before I could get all touchy-feely a wrestling match between the largest and the youngest turtle started about who should sit next to me - This is so cute, I feel like I'm in the kindergarten again... Except I'm not one of the boys wrestling for the special seat, I'm the one the fight is over... Weird. Leo nearly stepped in to break them up but he noticed no actual punches were being thrown, and no harm was done, so he let them go. Obviously Raphael won but he still let his younger brother do as he wished and I found that utterly adorable.

The rest of the day was spent watching TV, playing violent video games, chatting and nothing important really.

And still, all day I couldn't help but notice that Donnie's usual cheerfulness was duller and quieter than ever before.

Chapter Text

09:03 EST
99th Brooklyn precinct

5 MONTHS TO GO

"Happy Turkey Day!" Charles' festive mood could be felt all around the precinct, and it was genuinely contagious.
"Yes! Right out the gate!" exclaimed Peralta, victoriously pointing his pen at him.
"I have one too!" I cheer, throwing my arms above my head cheerfully.
This was genuinely more fun than I though it would be.
"Nice!" Rosa's voice came from behind me and I mentally patted myself on the back for not having a nervous breakdown about it.
"What? What's going on?" asked Boyle, looking around the squad for answers.
Santiago and Peralta proceeded to explain to the poor man what Boyle Bingo was and he looked a bit deflated and upset by it but only for a second before immediately bouncing back.
I took the moment to appreciate that I took part in this instead doing what I always do - sit back and watch people have fun, because I don't want to disturb them, or only participate if specifically asked.
That's some advice Master Splinter gave me. He asked once over dinner what my relationship with the rest of the squad was and I told him the pure and unadulterated truth - that I knew them well, but what I knew was from observation over the year and a half I've worked with them, and that I trusted all of them with my life but I would never call for help unless mine or somebody else's life was in danger.
He said that from what he's seen of me, it looked like I worked alone, instead of being part of a team and when I off-handedly mentioned that I didn't feel like I was part of the team, he, almost verbatim, advised me that "To be let in you must let somone in."
I put a lot of thought into that in the coming days, mulled over how he knew that, and why he would assume that I shut people out and I realized that I did. The night I got the position as the turtles' handler was the night Captain Holt and Chief Vincent assigned me the task of taking care of all of their cases and, distributing them between the squad, if needed. Which, I liked to think, was never needed.
Unfortunately, it didn't take very long for me to get overwhelmed with the workload - I've never had this many open cases on my desk - and realized that I will be needing some help.
That is a big step for me, however - admitting that I need help, especially in front of someone other than myself - and while I was not ready for that yet, I could slowly start trying to integrate with the squad. And what better way than silly games on a sillier holidays.
"That's a victory! That's a victory for Boyle! Boom!" exclaims Boyle.
"Boyle says 'Boom!'" echoed the room.
I zoned off for a second, just finishing up some paperwork from a recently closed case and in the tiny amount of time that I did that I seemed to have missed a large portion of the conversation.
The day passed quite uneventfully from there. I had finished my paperwork, no new cases were assigned, nothing special happened in the bullpen. Until, that is, Peralta strolled back in with his NYPD windbreaker still on and a pack of booger sugar.
"Check it out, desk jockeys!" he bragged about having made a coke bust, and to be fair it seemed like a pretty sufficient amount - could be over a kilo - so, good on him.
But then Santiago made an appearance.
"Well, at least you're done early, so you have time to change for my Thanksgiving diner."
"Ugh, we have to dress for Thanksgiving?" he begrudged, "I don't even celabrate this stuff!"
"Jacket and tie!" demanded Santiago, and I feel like both him and I realized at the same time she won't give up, "Rosa's even wearing her formal leather jacket." Oh yeah, she is! Should have noticed that too... "And Ivan promised to wear a dress." Hmm... Wait, what?
"What?! I never promised anything!" I exclaim, jumping from my seat so quick that my chair rolled a few feet away from my desk.
"Yeah, you did. Remember when you were finishing up your paperwork and I came over and asked about it?"
I remembered humming and nodding to something she was saying while trying to type in the finale of my report a couple of hours ago. And then I remembered that I wasn't so much typing as I was daydreaming about...
"I was just agreeing to get you to leave!" she gave me a disappointed look and a small head tilt. Oof, that was bad... Retry? "Look, I don't celebrate Thanksgiving... It's a culture thing and it's a long story but... Pleaaaaaase don't be mad..." my hands locked together in prayer for my release before I realised this approach won't be effective and that I needed something she'd relate to - I would appeal to the workaholic in her, "And let's not forget I still have more work to do - cases are flooding in constantly."
That was a straight-up lie. While there were and average of 2 to 10 cases a night, they were usually Drunk and Disorderly, some Battery and Assault, minor misdemeanors and such, there was rarely anything big and when there was I still had four partners to help me work the case - yes, during the day, I had to do all the legwork myself, but I technically had someone to rely on.
She begrudgingly agreed to release me of the social obligation to attend what both Rosa and I anticipated would be a massive fucking disaster. I even convinced myself that I was doing her a favor - every time Santiago gets near the Captain with less than professional intentions, things go south real fast. She starts panicking and acting like a complete buffoon. Judging by how excited and nervous she seems about this dinner, and by how we demanded we were all presentable and formally-dressed, it wasn't a stretch to assume she invited Holt too. What's more, she probably hadn't just invited him, she had planned something somewhat special for him - because of course she had, she worshipped this man.
So, by not going I was doing her the favor of not adding one more witness to what was sure to be a train wreck in a kettle.
My phone rang and on the other end was Raph. That was only strange as it had happened only a few times before - so far it was mostly Don and Loe who called about cases and Mikey - with his never dying energy - about anything else really. But Raph had never seemed to show any kind of interest in my existence, sure he tolerated me, he wasn't snarky or mean like he was to his own brothers sometimes but he hadnt really displayed any other signs of friendship. Either that or I was totally misreading his character.
"Hey, Raph, everything alright?"
"Uh, yeah, everything's great, I don't have a case if that's what ya're thinking." here was some minor amount of relief that settled in me but then it was overwhelmed by confusion. Why are you calling, Raph? "So, Don is too much of a nerd to ask and Leo probably has his reasons but he won't tell but uh... Ya have plans for thanksgiving?"
Uhhhh... Well, I can't avoid that question twice... And if anything, I'd rather it be with the turtles than Amy's stuffy work-people party.
"Uhm, no. Not really."
"Well, ya do now." Well, I was expecting a question but okay, "Mikey said he'll be done with diner by 7. Casey and April will be here too."
Again, no questions, just statements.
"Uhm.. Well, uhh" Shit why am I stuttering?! This isn't third grade! Get a grip! "Sh-should I bring something?" That's one way to transition out of a stutter.
The conversation ended soon after with, thankfully, no more surprises, and not long after the work day was finished as well.
But the larger problems remained.
Thanksgiving.
At 5:15 I left the precinct, drove home and the moment I arrived I just flopped on the couch and tried to mentally prepare myself for a social interaction. It's not because of the boys, or Splinter, not evens Casey and April's promised presence bothered me. It was always like that.
I was cool with being around the boys for work related stuff and the goofing around we did in that time was fine. But a specifically social outing is something that I need time to prepare for. I need to be told at least a week in advance, so I can mentally prepare myself for it. Not for a particular reason, I wasn't sure why. Being around people was what I did for a living (well, kind of) - the bullpen was small and there was very little space to hide away and there were always people going in and out of the building for multiple reasons.
And yet I was extremely uneasy about this. Why?
I wasn't sure why, but I knew for a fact it wasn't because of some kind of premonition, because of a bad feeling or anything I might have seen on TV.
At 6, I finally convinced myself to get up offa that thing - my trusty sectional - and start preparing for the diner.
I showered, applied a tiny bit of makeup - just enough to look like I was making an effort, but not enough to seem too eager to be there - did my hair in a loose bun at the back of my head and then just stood in front of my closet.
"What to wear, what to wear..." I mumbled to myself, shuffling between the hangars of the few dresses and skirts I had, the ones that held my dress pants, shirts and jackets. Under the hangars were the two shelves of casual clothing that I only wore off duty, which was slowly but surely turning from "rarely" to "more like never".
Santiago's voice rang in my head in that moment.
"Ivan promised to wear a dress..." Yeah, I'm not wearing a fucking dress, fuck you. "Jacket and tie" she'd ordered Peralta just moments before. That's more doable...
Just as I started shuffling through my wardrobe with a new objective my phone dinged.
I've picked a clean tunnel, don't worry. ;)
Attached to the text was a link that, no doubt, lead to safe and probably brand new route to the Lair.
A small smile and a sigh that I could only describe as dreamy left me. I couldn't help but imagine him perform that little wink himself and my heart positively skipped a beat.
Aww, dear sweet Donnie, always so thoughtful...
Get a grip, Ivan! You're a soldier, not a schoolgirl!
At exactly 6:35 I was dressed and ready. I'd picked out a dark brown suit with high waisted pants and a dark belt and a black floral-pattern shirt that I deemed too casual for work but was too drawn to to leave in the store.
Overall I was feeling good in my outfit, especially when I saw that the tunnel entry Don sent me was an above-ground tunnel entry that was probably supposed to be a subway tunnel but never really finished construction.
Because the Koch brothers are killing the train for their own profit...
Political inclinations aside, the tunel was suspiciously clean, there were no signs of extreme neglect, not sleeping bags to indicate that mole people lived in there, nothing. Hmm...
Either way, at 6:45, I arrived at a circular entrance I now knew better that my own apparent, even with the slow walking and the dragging of my feet because I knew I'd arrive early. I didn't know what that meant but.. Isn't it rude to show up too early or too late? Is 15 minutes too early? Am I projecting?
"Good evening, Detective!" a wise elderly voice greeted me instead of Donnie's usual cheerful, and slightly adorably nasaly 'hey'.
"Master Splinter, sir, please call me Lee."
"Only if you stop calling me 'sir'" he countered without missing a beat. I never really took the time to think where the boys wittiness and humor came from but I could kind of see it in that moment.
"Sounds like a deal, si-uhh.. " he leveled his dark eyes at me, looking me expectantly under his brows, "-Splinter." Phew, nice save! "Better?"
"There's progress!"
Well at least he doesn't hate you now!
As we walked towards the kitchen that was now sort of transformed into a dining room, what with the added larger table and the ten chairs around it. I saw three of four turtles busying around the renewed space, when Don finished setting the table and looked to his father and I.
"Hey, you're early!" his smile was usually welcoming and warm and sweet, and nothing was different that time, but I felt it was.
Ah, shit, so it was rude to show up early! Well, what now?
"That's okay though, we're nearly finished."
Oh? Really? Okay?
"We're here!" a feminine voice exclaimed from another corner of the Lair, another tunnel.
"Anglecakes!" Mikey pistoned from the kitchen to where the reporter stood giving her a massive hug, behind her were Leo - he probably went to meet them somewhere - and Casey.
"Ivan. Didn't think you'd come!" he nodded in greeting, strolling into the living space and saying hi to the turtles.
"Thought it might be time for a change." that wasn't a lie, I was still determined to be more open with people, and while it was a more rapid change than I'd originally intended, I was willing to commit to it.
"Oh, hi!" April's overly-sweet voice and smile mocked me and made me feel on edge for some reason.
"Okay, gather round, kids!" calls out Mikey from the kitchen, When did he...? "Dinner... Is served!" That was a Shrek 2 reference for sure!
So, there was 10 chairs.
Splinter sat at the head of the table as the head of the family, I get that. Leo and Raph sat next to him and opposite from each other, that's probably either a rivalry or age thing, I wasn't completely sure. But then...
"Are you expecting someone else?" I ask, more stressed by the seating situation than I probably should have been.
"Not really, why?" asks Don, seemingly blind to my anxiety. And thank god for that!
"Just asking!" You're a terrible liar, you know? They probably see right through you!
Donnie and Mikey took the next two seats, Mikey immediately demanding that April sit by him, which she complied to, Casey sitting by her. That left two empty chairs. One at the other head of the table and the one next to Donnie.
You can't sit at the head like King Geoffrey, who do you think you are!
That only left the one next to the tallest turtle.
It's too close, I can't sit there!
Yes, you can and you will! You're not a child, and this isn't high school, man up!
To be completely honest, I was relieved that it was Don - he's the one I'm most comfortable around after all. I don't just mean, out of the Ninja Family, I mean generally.
When I sat down, and had to look up to meet his gaze and his small smile, I finally noticed that he wasn't adorned by the massive amount of gadgets and trinkets he usually lugged around. His techno-goggles or whatever they were, were gone, the multiple devices and items he constantly had on his person were probably, knowing him, carefully tucked away into his lab, retired for the evening festivities. He only had his glasses on and nothing more.
Without all of that, all I could see was him. Not the multiple screens, controllers, and everything else, just him. And I was mesmerised.
"Let's eat, I'm starving!" Raph's deep voice shattered my state of hypnosis and drew me back to the current location.
Conversation was light and non-committal, and I didn't take part in it because I didn't feel the need to. The food was amazing too, I made a mental not to myself to mention it to Mikey later, he'd really outdone himself.
"So, Lee," April's honeyed voice addressed me, as she bit into a small piece of turkey, perfectly ladylike and proper, "is your family out of town this year?"
Odd question. Where does that lead?
"Uhm, no." I wasn't really giving her any reason to continue that line of conversation, I didn't want it to.
"Oh, so you decided to just share the holiday with us this year? That's nice!" Why does her smile feel fake? And why do I feel personally attacked? I was certain she was being passive-aggressive towards me, I was sure. But there was always room for doubt.
So, I managed to shape my response in a way that would hopefully deter her from speaking about it further and would answer enough to satisfy her curiosity.
"Well, I wouldn't usually celebrate thanksgiving." That's good, short ambiguous answers, she doesn't need to know me that well...
"No? Why not?" What's it to you? And is no one else picking up in her underlying aggression?
"Well, if my surname wasn't a dead giveaway, I'm not actually from here." the nervous chuckle wasn't part of my planner response but it came out anyway and there was no covering it up.
"Where are you from then?" Why am I being interrogated? Is it just the way she talks or do her questions actually sound like she's trying to confirm an alibi?
Not wanting to see anyone's reactions I looked down at my plate, suddenly losing my appetite and tolerance for this social gathering and just mumbled my response, hoping she won't really hear it.
"Far away."
"Oh." I could see her nod with my peripherals but couldn't be bothered to gauge what her reaction may hide. I hoped that later on some higher force would appreciate this super tense moment as an excellent Shrek 2 reference as well.
Shit, I just singlehandedly made everything awkward, didn't I? That's why I never get invited to these things!
"No, that wasn't fair!" whined the youngest, holding the small part of a broken wishbone, with his hot-headed brother smirking smugly across the table.
"Was too, nitwit! Get over it!"
"You're not supposed to twist it!"
"Where does it say!?" Ralph's voice grew in volume but I knew it wasn't actual anger, he was just playing around.
Saved by the bell, Ivan!
The rest of the night went by uneventfully. Thank fuck! No more attention was drawn to me than I felt comfortable with which, at first I thought was lucky but then I started noticing the boys reactions around me and it became somewhat clear that none of it was coincidental. They were shielding me, in a way. Why and how they made the collective decision was beyond me, but maybe it was a sibling thing - isn't that what it's like in TV and movies?
It was a series of subtle glances, nudges and gestures, the redirection of conversation, the avoidance of certain topics. While anyone else may have felt left out, I was more than thankful to them for it.
Other than my little passive match with April, which I later apologised for, stating that I was just a private person and it was nothing personal towards her, and she seemed to understand, the evening went well. Her and Casey left before I did, with the reporter stating she had something important to do the next day, and Casey, obviously being on duty. As I were getting ready to leave what I thought was about half an hour later, I finally checked my wrist watch just to realize I have a terrible sense of time.
"How is it 2:30 already?" I exclaimed out loud, "Sorry for overstaying I didn't realized it was this late."
"Nonsense, child, you're always welcome to stay."
Child?
My heart warmed at the though of the elderly rat referring to me as a child even if I was in my mid-twenties. I couldn't explain it at the time but I loved the familiarity of that little nickname more than I knew myself.
Without my consent my mouth moved into a smile and a little giggle left my lips, and once I realized that, my hand clamped over the betrayer and my eyes widened a smidge.
"Ah, well, thank you, si-Splinter." I caught my mistake almost instantly this time but I didn't think for a second he'd missed it. But then something else dawned on me. "Ah, damnit" my shoulders sagged with the sudden realization of what I'd done.
"What? What is it?" Donnie's voice invaded my mind again and for a second I seemed to forget the original cause of my distress.
"I saw how close it was to my home and I didn't want to take my car and leave it outside. Would look a bit suspicious, you know!" I defended, for the n-th time feeling incompetent with my choices.
"I don't think it's safe for you to walk home alone."
"Leo, I'm a cop." I stated, pulling bact the lapels of my jacket and showing him I still carried my gun and badge, "It's never safe for me."
"Well, it's settled then." Splinter clapped his paws together, drawing all of our attention to him, "Donatello, please, walk Ms. Ivan to her apartment. For safety."
Oh, the embarrassment!
I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself! Does he think I'm incapable or incompetent? Why would he send someone with me?
But then again... it's Donnie...
"Hai, sensei!" I didn't know what that mean but as I turned to Don and saw him bow towards Splinter I got the idea that it wasn't 'No, thanks!'
"Sir, I assure you, this is entirely unnecessary. I am perfectly capable of getting home unharmed. I don't need to be taken care of!" I objected.
All of a sudden I felt like a child again, completely incapable of any form of self defence, being assigned some of the older kids to constanly be around me. Being kept away from the other kids.
"I never said that you did. I'm just asking you, for mine and my sons' piece of mind." How could I say no to those huge sincere brown eyes?
I couldn't.
I sigh of resignation left my lips and I looked at the floor and back up at Donnie.
He seemed somewhat upset in a way. His brow ridges were raised in the middle, lips purse and his shoulders seemed tense.
Oh my god! He thought I didn't want him around! Noooo!
"Well... Uhm.. Should we... go?" I decided then and there I was going to apologise for the misunderstanding on the way back.
"Let's go."
We ended up taking the tunes I used the first time that lead to a manhole near my apartment building.
The first 5 minutes out of the door were quiet and tense. I could hear our steps on the concrete as they reverberated through the tunnel, I could hear the constant soft drip-drop of water, I could hear the occasional car driving over the layer of concrete and metal, and I could, very loud and clear, hear my own pulse.
I shouldn't have been this worried and nervous to openly state that I didn't mean to offend him. If anything, this should have been the easiest thing to say. But it wasn't.
Why?
Because I didn't know what would come afterwards. I didn't know of he would think I'm lying or pandering, I didn't want him assume my words meant nothing. But I also didn't know he'd react that way. Logically speaking, the chances of that were low.
Okay, just out with it.
I took a deep breath, shut my eyes for a second and exhaled as I opened them back up.
"So, Don," he immediately focused in on me, and I nearly swallowed my tongue -his wide, curious eyes were zeroed in on mine, with all the attentiveness and eagerness in the world - I felt like I was about to say something actually important, "about... the way I reacted. I didn't mean it like... It's not because I don't like you around... Because I do!" I am digging myself a deeper whole, aren't I? "I love to have you around, so it wasn't that." I finally tore my eyes away from the concrete and up to meet his again, now filled with a shred of confusion and uncertainty.
"Oh, okay." and a pause - he had more to say, "Then why?"
It was such a simple question but didn't want to answer it. I just didn't.
The line between my personal and professional relationship with him was already basically non-existent, so what do I do now? Do I reveal more about myself and just admit to myself, and subtly to him, that I don't want to just be friends, let alone just coworkers? Or do I close off and just keep things where they are?
It may not have seemed like a big dilemma to the onlooker but to me it mean the difference between a good job and a good love life. And I liked to think I had everything figured out.
But I want to talk to him! I want him to know me and I want to know him! What harm could it do anyway?
"Well, multiple reasons, honestly." his interest seemed to peak, "One, it's late - I didn't want to bother you guys-"
"You could never bother us, Lee," he protested, rolling his eyes.
"Yeah, well, of course you'll say that, because you're too nice!" I countered.
The annoyance on his face seemed to interlude with a blush and a smile, "Is that why?"
I huff a laugh, and carry on.
"Well, no. The other thing is well... um" Oh to hell with it, "I just... I don't..." I hate stuttering, its so embarrassing, "I didn't want to give the impression that I need to be taken care of."
Don was silent beside me. I turned to him to try and suss out his reaction but he just looked back at me expectantly. Like he didn't get it? Did I not explain it well? Okay, take two then.
"Like, I'm your handler, I'm a cop, I don't want you to think that you need to babysit me all the time. I know you're physically far above my level but I'm still very much capable of taking care of myself."
Silence again.
Well, what is it then? I couldn't be any more clear than this, and he's far from stupid, so it's not that. So, what is it?
For a moment, he looked at the ground as we crossed a particularly dark patch. His eyes squinted a smidge behind his spectacles, eye ridges drawing together in contemplation.
This tension is killing me!
"What are you thinking?"
He was momentarily shocked by my sudden intrusion of his thoughts but seemed to shake it off quickly.
"I'm thinking that you seem to think that you work is the only or main attribute of your personality." it was my turn to be confused, and seeing that, he went to clarify himself, "You cite and mention your work as a detective a lot but not in a condescending or arrogant way, it's not an intimidation tactic either. I think..." he seemed nervous to finish that sentence for some reason, but I gave him - what I hope - was an encouraging glance, and he seemed to ease a bit under it, "You're not just your job, Lee. There's always more to a person than what they do for a living."
I turned away from him, blinked a couple of times, and tried to for a reply. But no words came to me. Nothing. I couldn't grasp what he was saying, how was I supposed to answer?
"I don't mean this as an insult to you, I mean this as a friend."
A friend? So he thinks of me as a friend?
Well, yeah, he's probably not as emotionally-constipated as you are, it's easier for him to admit he likes someone just because!
"You should give yourself more credit. You're more than you think."
That was too cryptic for me to even try to comprehend it.
What does that even mean?
When did we get to the manhole near my building? How lang have we been standing here?
"I should... um, I should get back." he stammers, suddenly back to his shy and timid nature, and I found myself missing his bolder, more honest side almost immediately, but still appreciating the softness in his voice. "Will you be okay from here?"
Always thoughtful...
I finally break free from my stupor and say:
"I'll try not to get mugged in tthe last 30 feet, don't worry."
He gives me a nod of acknowledgement and starts walking back but his words stay with me.
"You're more than you think." and Donnie's never wrong.