Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Did you drink all the milk AGAIN!? Dude!—“

“What?! You know I need an exact milk-to-rice-chex ratio in order to enjoy my breakfast, Leo!”

“Have any of you seen my dance bag? It’s not where I left it!”

“Why do you need it, anyway? Isn’t dance on Thursday?”

“Leo, today is Thursday.”

“What? No, it’s not. If it was Thursday, then my American Literature essay would be due, and I haven’t even started it yet, so there’s NO WAY—“

“If my toaster is destroyed, I will be making whichever child is responsible pay for the replacement!” The warning rang out over the general chaos of the morning.

“Oh shoot—“ Yoshi could hear the frantic scrabble of a belated attempt to rescue the burning pop tart, which Yoshi could smell from all the way in the living room. Parked in his reclining chair, the TV playing in front of him, he munched contentedly on his own breakfast which he had acquired earlier before his teenage sons descended upon the kitchen. He was not much of a ‘morning person,’ but it was a necessity if he was to eat in any sort of peace. 

 This was a typical morning in the Hamato household.

Yoshi was used to it by now. The bickering, the bumbling, the hectic last-minute "wait I forgot something's--" it was all just a part of the routine. Sure, it had been a bit exhausting at times when they were all still children, and he had to scramble about like a madman each morning to ensure they had everything they needed to get where they were going. But at this point? He could more or less just ignore them and allow them to work things out by themselves, only occasionally needing to step in and offer a bit of guidance. He had always been a bit of a... ‘hands-off’ parent, for better or for worse, but he was fairly certain that he had finally found the rhythm of things over the past several years. Not that that made him a perfect father by any means, but there had certainly been plenty of occasions--

 "APRIIIIILLLLLL O'NEIL!!!" The battle cry and hearty thud of his poor front door put a sudden end to his narration, and, though it happened near every day, he startled in response, just barely avoiding dropping his tea.

 "April!" He bellowed from his chair, turning just enough to peer into the kitchen, where his honorary fifth child (as if he needed any more…) and next-door neighbor had just appeared. "How many times must I tell you?! If you break my door, I will--!"

"Aw, c'mon, Yosh, you know I gotta make a bold entrance at the start of the morning, or my mojo is gonna be off for the whole rest of the day! Besides, I haven't broken the door yet, and it's been how many years?"

“Bah! Haven't broken my door yet, maybe, but what about my bed frame? Or my printer? Or my third-favorite koi fish figurine?!"

"Oh, you wanna play that game now?" O'Neil countered, narrowing her eyes behind scarlet frames, crossing her arms across her chest and cocking one hip to the side. "Okay, then, how about my window? Or my mom's antique vase? Or my literal entire bathroom--"

"Okay! Okay, enough!" Yoshi spluttered with a dismissive wave of his hands. Dammit. The fact he was technically responsible for his sons’ occasional partaking in light property destruction was still, in his opinion, the most unfair and annoying part of parenting. "Fine! Break down the door for all I care! Burn the entire place to the ground! See if I do anything about it! Teenagers..." He muttered with a scowl, shaking his head and returning to his program, an exaggerated scowl on his face. The kids, to their credit, knew well enough by now not to take his rants and mumblings too seriously and quickly re-engaged themselves in whatever gossip and chatter they had previously been wrapped up in.

 Yoshi smiled just the tiniest bit, listening with one ear as Donatello explained to a devastated Leonardo that it was, in fact, Thursday, bringing up evidence on his cell phone, and Raphael and April pulled Mikey's dance bag out from inside the oven, where he had forgotten it for the third time this past month. 

 This was not where he had imagined his life would take him when he was young. Not even close. 

 He would not trade these moments for anything at all.

 By the time his television show was ending, he was just finishing off his tea and shoveling the rest of his bagel into his mouth. Game shows, he had found years ago, were an excellent means of timing routines, and he had it to a science by now. He pulled himself to his feet, stretching and cracking his back loud enough that his children yelled at him from the kitchen, before shuffling his way into the kitchen to begin the work of chasing the teenagers out the door.

 "Alright, come on, shoo shoo! You are all going to miss the subway and be late!" He scolded, occasionally swatting at a stray child with his sleeves. "And do not forget anything, because I will not bring it to you!" 

 "Dad," Leo began, his eyes blown up huge and pleading. "I don't feel well, I'm pretty sure I've got, like, a tummy bug, or something? Sooo, I should, like, probably stay home--"

 "You are not skipping school just because you forgot to do an assignment," Yoshi immediately responded. 

 "What?! Noooo, Daddy, please, I'm really sick!"

 "I was not born yesterday," he scoffed, shooting his son an unimpressed look. "And I have seen you do assignments in far less time! Besides, I'm sure April and your brothers would be happy to help."

 A chorus of groans rang from around the table.

 “Enough bellyaching! Come on, out of my house! Let's go, chop chop! Anyone who stays home today will be giving me a pedicure!”

That threat always worked. On cue, everyone fell into action. The boys gulped down any remaining breakfast still left uneaten, (whether it was theirs or not,) in between conversations, TikTok videos, and, in Leo's case, loud mourning about the day of the week. Donatello began the long process of buckling up the seventeen different straps on his chunky boots, Michaelangelo passed out lunches to each of his family members, narrating his culinary decisions as he went, and Raphael hurriedly tossed bowls, spoons, and plates into the dishwasher with clatters and clunks. 

"I can't find my eyeliner pen-- Nardo, did you steal it? Did you go through my bag?! You DID, didn’t you!!! I am going to delete all of your Minecraft save files--"

"What?! I cannot believe you would make such an accusation, I would never stoop to such petty thievery--"

"Mikey, hurry up and grab your skateboard if you're gonna--"

"OW, Dad, Donnie pulled my hair!"

"Oh, what are you, five?"

"HEY, both of you knock it off before Raph makes ya!”

"Wait, did we have a quiz in geometry today? Because I did not study!!! Raph, this note had better be a joke--!"

After a few final moments of mayhem, Yoshi finally managed to get all five high schoolers out the door, closing the door firmly behind them with a loud sigh. 

He loved his children. Truly, he did. But thank god for school. 

Grumbling a bit to himself, he got to work straightening the remaining mess left behind. His sons were more than old enough to clean up after themselves and help out around the house, but that still didn't necessarily mean they did it particularly well. Maybe by their late twenties, if they were anything like their father. He swept up spare crumbs and wiped down the table, putting cereal boxes away in the pantry where they belonged and closing cabinet doors that had been left open.

Boys.

Truthfully, he had very little room to complain and he knew it. Compared to the first four years of parenthood, things were a breeze. Sure, there was still plenty of work to do, but aside from the occasional exhausting day or difficult conversation, he could practically just put things on autopilot at this point. He could hardly imagine how his younger self used to get through each day. 

Well, perhaps he could, because, if he was being completely honest, he didn't really 'get through' most days back then as much as he was bodily dragged in and out of them. But he had realized long ago that lingering on his past shortcomings was not in anyone's best interest. 

With school, extracurriculars, friends and neighbors, babysitters, and a shit-ton of parenting classes on his side now, in addition to the general concept of the passage of time, given that his children were no longer children and now teenagers, he had at his disposal something that he had not had even a scrap of for years before ‘the move.'

Free time. 

 It had been nearly ten years since they came up to New York City. Ten years since he and his sons had donned these disguises and bodily forced their way back into society on the back of lies and forged paperwork. Or, well, he had forced his way back into society. His children were just along for the ride-- and new to it all. 

 Not that you would be able to tell now, he thought to himself, smiling ever so slightly. Ten years… They had lived this way for a long time now.

 It had been so long… Some days, he nearly forgot that he was anything but a man. 

"Donnie, here, it's your turn." 

Donatello sighed loudly, pausing in whatever he was doing on his phone, (scrolling through Twitter? Purchasing uranium off the dark web? They were equally likely,) but accepted the laptop shoved into his hands anyway.

"Why am I getting the impression that my turns are longer than everyone else's?" He questioned, his brows pinched with gentle annoyance as he glanced at the other four, all piled together on the subway. There wasn’t enough space for all of them, but even finding a couple of open seats was a near miracle this time of day, so they could make do. Stacking Mikey on Raph's shoulders and denying Leo a place to sit, seeing how it was his American Literature essay that they were taking turns writing, did the trick.

 "Because you're the smart one," Leo said, his arms wrapped around the nearest subway pole, leaning so he could read over their shoulder. "This is the consequence of referring to yourself as a 'genius' all the time."

"I'm pretty sure I've always made it very clear that I'm a man of science, not literature," Donnie quipped in reply, even as he hunched over the screen, his fingers tick-tacking across the keys. 

"Hey, I'm helping too! That whole third paragraph is mostly me," April protested, crossing her arms and slumping against Donnie, purposefully jostling them a bit in retaliation. 

 "Me too!" Mikey chirped from atop his brother's shoulders, draped forward across Raph's head to avoid smacking his own on the roof. "I changed all the punctuation to 14-point font to make it longer!”

 "Smart," Donnie hummed, not looking up, in such a tone that it wasn't quite clear if he meant it or not. Mikey beamed at the praise nonetheless, a bright grin lighting up his face as he crossed his arms over his brother's forehead. 

"Look, it doesn't have to be good. It's just gotta be four pages long before third period," Leo said. "I mean, Donnie could also always just hack into the school's gr—“

 "Hey!" Raph barked. "We all agreed that that was for emergencies only!"

 "Okay, okay, fine!" Leo sighed, a bit of sulkiness saturating his voice, holding his hands up in mock surrender. He reluctantly accepted the laptop when it was passed back over to him, propping up a knee to balance it on and hunching over to type.

"I thought Mikey set up that whole system with you. With the reminders and that agenda app and everything?" April questioned, glancing up at Leo curiously-- perhaps suspiciously. 

"He did. I've just been..." He paused, hesitating in his words for just a second. "Busy."

"Oh no," April groaned.

"Not again," Donnie sighed.

"Who is it this time?" Raph asked, quirking a brow.

 "What! I have noooo idea what you guys are talking about--"

 "Leo." 

 "Okay, fine. Chase DeFerro," Leo muttered, his eyes immediately flicking to the side to avoid the inevitable reactions of his family.

 "Chase DeFerro?"

 "The same Chase DeFerro from five months ago?"

 "Didn't you two have, like, a horrible break-up?"

 "Didn't you block him on, like… Everything?"

 "Didn't you say, and I quote, 'If I ever have to even see that nasty bitch again in my entire life, it'll be too soon, and I swear to god I'll chop off--'"

 "Okay, okay! Hey, come on! That was five months ago. Things are, like, totalllyyyy different now!" Leo insisted. 

 “You said that about the last, like, three guys you’ve dated,” April said, unimpressed. 

 "Leo, have you ever stopped to consider that, perhaps, your need to constantly be in some kind of a relationship may have some kind of deeper connection to your own feelings of self-worth and the way that you assign value to--"

 "Whoa there, Doctor Feelings! Chill! It's not that deep!" Leo scoffed, shooting Mikey an annoyed look. Ugh, he knew he shouldn't have brought it up. "Seriously. I'm just bored, okay? Quit trying to read into it."

 "Bored?" Raph echoed, looking at the other with big eyes. "Leo, you can't treat love like it's a game like that! Come on!"

 "It's not love, Raph, it's high school dating," Leo said, giving a dismissive wave of his hand. “Anyway! Look, I'm only fifty words short and then I'm home free. Who's got the next turn?" 

 "Fine," April sighed, rolling her eyes. “Only because your girl here writes a killer BS essay conclusion. But you owe me. Hand it over." 

True to her word, the last-minute literature assignment was wrapped up shortly, and the remainder of the train ride was instead occupied by chatter and gossip, discussing upcoming tests and assignments in school, rumors circulating the hallways, and plans for weekends and far-off holidays. On the occasion it got too loud to hear each other properly, they’d sign to each other instead, and then switch back once it quieted down again. The five scrambled their way off the subway when they arrived at their stop, making their way up the stairs and back to street level.

Leo inhaled deeply as he hopped up the final few stairs, his sneakers giving a satisfying thud on the concrete below them with each step. He had no complaints about the subway, (well, no more than the average person, anyway,) but there was always just something especially invigorating about getting to breathe fresh air after spending any amount of time underground. Even if the fresh air was New York City air. Call him crazy, but he'd never get tired of it. 

The group began the final length of their journey, closing the three-block gap between the subway station and their high school: most of them on foot, Mikey on his skateboard, though he was less skateboarding and more standing on his skateboard and hanging onto the back of Raph's shirt so his older brother would drag him along. Leo wondered absently if he could get away with that, too, before April's voice finally snapped him back into reality. 

"You busy after school today?" 

"Until six!" He replied, stretching his arms back to lace his fingers behind his head as they walked. "Dee and I have gymnastics." 

“Next competition is tomorrow,” Donnie hummed, not looking up from his phone. "So we're getting in the extra hours."

"You know we've got a rep to uphold!" Leo sing-songed, his mouth stretching into a wide, smug grin. "Gotta keep that flawless record for the rest of the season." 

It was very well known, to anyone who ran in such circles, that the Hamato twins were all but sure to take the top two places in any gymnastics meet that they showed up to. It was just a question of in what order they would do so. Of all the various sports that they participated in, gymnastics was just about the only one where it was truly a coin flip. The only other two extracurriculars they shared were swim, where Donnie consistently took first place, and martial arts, where they both knew Leo was more likely to come out on top. But gymnastics? It was anybody's guess, and they flip-flopped from first to second just about every other event. For just a moment, Leo caught his twin's eye-- ‘cause he knew he was thinking the exact same thing right now.

‘Cause he knew they both wanted to win.

‘Cause they both wanted to rub it in the other's face. 

 (Of course, they both also knew that the only reason they got to have this little song-and-dance to begin with was because Mikey was still in the age bracket below them. Wouldn't everyone be just so delighted to finally see the Hamato Twins usurped in the coming season... by another Hamato.)

“And Raph has work… Ugh! Y’all are too damn busy!” April huffed, leaning her head back and wrinkling her nose.

“I’ve got a little bit of time,” Mikey chimed in, leaning over just enough to offer April a grin. “I don’t gotta be at dance until four. I was gonna go work on that mural I’ve got going up north. Wanna come?” 

“Beats sitting at home doing homework,” April reasoned, giving a shrug. “I’m in!”

“Shweet!”

Leo smiled a tiny bit. Though he did, in fact, have complete confidence in his little brother’s ability to traverse the city safely, it was still kind of nice to know he’d be with someone else. If, for no other reason, than to know that Raph would now worry about Mikey at least 80% less during the coming evening.

“Alright,” Speaking of worrisome older brothers, Raph began his typical pre-school speech as they approached the front entrance. “No one be late to class. No one skip class,” Who, him? What was that pointed look for? He would never… get caught more than once in a week. “And no one get in any trouble. Don’t do anything Raph wouldn’t do.”

 “Yes sir!” The four of them barked in reply as they approached the entrance of their high school. Mostly, they were all just making fun of him. But Leo figured humoring him wouldn’t hurt, especially if it helped him chill a little bit. Raph had always taken the role of “the biggest brother” pretty seriously, ever since they were really little. Though Leo wasn’t exactly sure why. Raph was always the one in charge whenever their dad wasn’t around, and Leo suspected he had a hard time ever completely dropping that mindset.

Don’t get him wrong, Raph was just as capable of fucking around, goofing off, and getting into shit as the rest of them, for sure, Leo just sometimes wished he could… relax a little. It wasn’t like anything bad was gonna happen, but Raph always kind of had this air to him, like he was expecting enemies to leap out from behind the corner and attack them at any moment. Like he always had to protect them all. Which Leo could get, sure, but, like… wouldn’t it lowkey be kind of cool if someone did try to start some shit with them or something, just so that they could see the look on their face when they totally kicked their ass? Leo could only imagine it’d be pretty hilarious.

 The five of them went their separate ways, parting with various promises to see each other at lunch, after school, at home, etc. April and Raph went one way, Mikey went another, and Leo and Donnie split off in a different direction still, heading towards the East Wing. 

As they cleared the corner, Leo whipped around to face Donnie, stabbing them in the side with a spare elbow. “Last one to homeroom gets second place at gymnastics tomorrow!” He declared, immediately taking off down the hall.

"Wha— Leo! This is unfair, I’m wearing platforms! You know I’m wearing platforms!” Donnie shrieked in protest, even as he broke into a run behind him.

Leo whooped in reply, throwing himself over the railing of the nearest staircase, knowing his twin brother was right on his tail. 

“Come on! Harder!!! SHOW ME WHAT YOU GOT!” Raphael roared, pumping a fist in the air. “LET’S GO! GIVE IT TO ME!”

The gaggle of six-year-olds in the water in front of him, all clinging to the pool wall, giggled loudly in response to his over-the-top encouragement, kicking their legs even harder in a flurry of limbs and dousing him in chlorinated water.

“Whoa, whoa, okay! You gave it to me! I surrender!” Raph chuckled, holding his hands up to shield himself. “Alright, alright. Good job, team! You did great today. Okay, let’s wrap up—“

“Raph! RAPH!”

 "What?”

“Raph, we gotta do the ferry!” Penelope, the loudest of his students, insisted, her face all screwed up with determination. The other four children nodded along fervently. “We can’t get out until we do ferry!”

“Oh, RIGHT. Ferry. Sorry, Raph almost forgot!” He chuckled, thunking his own forehead with the butt of his palm, feigning forgetfulness, as if he hadn’t always intended to do their usual wrap-up game. Class ended with a game of 'Ferry' every time, without fail, especially given that he touted it as the ‘reward’ that they had to work for each week by following directions and working hard. He shifted slightly in the water, turning his back on the kids still clinging to the wall. “Okay— hop aboard!”

The five first-graders squealed in delight, launching themselves off the pool wall to clamber over the teenager instead,  climbing over his broad shoulders and hanging off of his arms. Raph gave a soft little ‘oof,’ at the impact, though it was mostly for show, snorting softly in amusement as Penelope all but climbed on top of his head. Reminded him of Mikey.

 “Okay— GO!” She shouted once she was sure all her cohorts were fully boarded, the whole group buzzing with excitement despite the fact that they did this every week. Raph gave a soft hum of acknowledgment, slowly setting off on their lap around the pool. In the shallower end, where they started, he didn’t even really have to swim at all— He could just walk with his body lowered enough in the water to give the illusion of swimming. Or, more precisely, the illusion of ‘ferrying.’

 “Welcome everybody to Penelope’s Ferry Ride. I’m Penelope, the tour girl. Over there’s the Empire State Building,” Penelope narrated happily from her perch, gesturing to the bleachers. “And over there is the Statue of Liberty,” The pool noodles. “And over there’s the Milky Way. And that’s the, uhhh, the Big Bridge…”

 “Wait, how long’s this ferry ride? Raph didn’t sign up for no world tour!” Raph protested teasingly, to which Penelope sharply shushed him before continuing her narration. The other children bubbled with laughter at her increasingly ridiculous tourist attractions and descriptions. Reminded him of Leo.

 Raph chuckled softly to himself as he moved into the deeper end of the pool, transitioning into an easy breaststroke to keep them all afloat on their way. It was, admittedly, a bit more difficult to swim with five kids on his back than it was on his own, but Raph was a strong swimmer. This was no problem. Besides, it’s not like he was in a rush or anything.

 Honestly? This was his favorite part of these lessons. No worrying about everyone paying attention or being involved. No worries about anyone wandering off when he had them all on top of him and undoubtedly accounted for. No stressing about remembering the lesson plan or rules… He could just swim. He knew it sounded dumb, but sometimes, with all the kids piled on top of him like this, he felt like some sort of big plodding swamp creature, floating lazily down the river with the world on his back.

 He took his time about it, but he eventually made his full lap around the pool, coming to a stop by the stairs and gently chasing the kids off of his shoulders. 

 “Alright, come on, squirts. Ferry ride’s over.”

 “Nooo!” Penelope whined, clinging to his head. “One more lap! PLEASEEE!”

 “Hey, come on, you know the rules! If you don’t listen to Raph, you don’t get a ferry ride next week!” He warned, slowly peeling her off of his back. “Go on. Get outta here,” he insisted, though fondly, smiling a bit as she huffed and scowled… but she got out anyway, joining the rest of the kids running to their parents, all with towels in waiting arms, listening to the children excitedly chatter about what they learned today.

 Raph smiled just the tiniest bit. He remembered when he and his brothers had been that small, taking swim classes here. He, Donnie, and Leo had all been thrilled to take to the water, adoring each and every lesson. 

 They all loved it— except Mikey. He recalled listening to his littlest brother scream bloody murder as their father attempted to coax him into the water, trying everything from reason to bribes to threats of consequences. 

 “You don’t need to like to swim, Michelangelo. But you need to be able to,” he remembered his father saying. “I need to be sure you will be safe if you ever end up in the water by yourself.” 

If anyone asked, he’d tell ‘em that he taught swim lessons just to make some extra pocket money. But he was pretty sure it was actually that exact memory that convinced him to take the job. He liked the idea of helping to keep people safe. Even if it was just teaching kids how to doggy paddle.

Doing all the small talk at the end of the lessons with the parents was definitely his least favorite part, however, and he always found himself kind of stammering and stuttering his way through it. After some short, “oh, yeah, she’s doin’ great!” and "for sure, perfect behavior’s!” tossed at some parents, he was thankfully able to duck away into the office, his own towel flung over his shoulders to try and avoid tracking water everywhere.

 “All done?” The office receptionist, Jessica, chirped in her usual friendly demeanor, glancing over at Raph as he entered. 

 “Just about. I just gotta clean up as soon as the kids are all gone and we’ll be set,” he replied, ruffling his hair dry. 

“Did you remind the parents that we’re closed next week?”

 Raph froze.

 “… Uhhhh…”

 Jessica sighed a bit, glancing over her shoulder to give him a look. “I reminded you before the lesson started!”

 “I know! I just— Raph forgot, okay? I can only hold so much stuff in my brain at one time before stuff just starts to fall out! I was thinkin’ about swimming stuff!” He defended. “‘Sides, it was your job to remind me to remind them! So obviously we both dropped the ball,” Jessica didn’t look quite convinced, but Raph was pretty sure his logic was solid. “Can’t we just, like, put up some flyers and send out an email and all that junk?”

 Rolling her eyes, Jessica turned back to her computer and began to type. “Yeah, yeah… Can’t really do flyers, but I’m working on that email.”

 “Why not? Just put a sign up on the door.”

 Jessica looked over at him again, raising a brow. “You haven’t heard about the paper shortage?”

Raph blinked slowly.

“… The what.”

“Yeah! It’s a whole thing. I dunno, I guess there are like… paper thieves or whatever robbing all the paper stores and stuff in the city? We haven’t been able to get any new orders in for a few weeks now,” she explained.

 “Paper thieves?” He echoed, incredulous. “And they steal paper?”

 “Yeah. They steal paper.”

 “Who the heck steals paper?”

 “I dunno! I just saw it on the news,” Jessica shrugged. “I guess the police are working on it or whatever.” 

 “I guess,” Raph said, shrugging a bit, though he still couldn’t help but find the whole thing a bit amusing. I mean, come on. Paper thieves? It was only paper.

"Dadddd!" Mikey called as he swung his way into the door, kicking his shoes off into the general direction of the pile where shoes were typically kept, tossing his duffle bag to the side. He'd come back for it later and put it away, he swore! "I'M HOMMMEEE!"

 It had been a long day in between school, painting, and dance practice, so it was almost nine by the time Mikey got home-- not that he minded. He liked being busy! If he didn't have stuff to do, it was just, like, all the energy would build up and up and up in all his limbs and his body and his chest like something sticky and hot about to boil over, condensation gathering at the top of his skull, and then he just went kinda crazy. That made sense, right? He was pretty sure his brothers were kinda like that, too, so he figured it was probably mostly normal. He sometimes wondered if that was why their dad let them sign up for so many after-school activities. The only downside was the limited time leftover to tackle homework and personal projects. Walls weren’t just gonna paint themselves, after all!

 "What's for dinner?" He shouted across the house, shucking his backup off and beginning to unpack, collecting his various textbooks and notepads.

 "Oh, since you were not home, Michelangelo, I have had no choice but to cook for our family--"

 "Dad."

 "But do not worry, my son, I am making the most delicious meal--"

 "Dad–-"

 "Boiled liver and onions! You boys' favorite! With chopped earthworms, yum yum yum!"

 "DAD! You're not funny!" Mikey yelled, even though there was laughter in his voice. Their dad did this bit every time, and he hated how it was, in fact, always kinda funny.

 "Pizza is on the table," his father called back, and Mikey let out an excited cheer.

 "YEAH BABY! That's what I was hoping you'd say!" He shouted, hopping up to his feet and beelining it to the kitchen. His brothers had clearly already done a round, based on the empty boxes and missing slices, but he knew they wouldn't dare leave him without his fair share. That's youngest child privilege.

"How was school today, my son?" Dad always asked about school first and everything else second, every time.

 "Id'was gooh'," Mikey mumbled, in between the pizza slice already hanging out of his mouth, piling several more slices onto his plate. "We're readin' th' O'ssey--"

 "Orange, I cannot understand anything you are saying."

 Mikey spit the half-chewed pizza slice back out onto the plate, which earned a really fun look from Dad, and he grinned.

 "Sorry! We're reading the Odyssey in English class, which is fine, I guess, but it's kinda a lot to get through, so we're translating it to, like, real human words, annnndddd we gotta do a group project presentation thing, and I like all the people in the group project but you KNOOWWW how group projects are," he reported, rapid-fire, giving a dramatic sigh. "Oh! And I got my Algebra test back and I got! A 79!"

"Oh! Very good, Mikey. I am glad your studying paid off," his father replied with a small smile, and Mikey beamed. "And how was dance?"

"Awesome! I killed it, as per use'," Mikey said proudly, puffing out his chest a bit. "Miss Vega said that I just gotta tighten up my turns and I'll be all ready to destroy the competition next weekend!"

"Excellent. Good job, Orange," his dad said with a chuckle, patting Mikey's shoulder before making his way back into the living room, no doubt to reunite his butt with his beloved reclining chair and put on some TV that no one else in the family appreciated. Mikey grabbed three more slices of pizza while his dad’s back was turned, and then scampered off, heading deeper into the apartment.

Considering they resided in New York City, they lived in a pretty spacious abode. Mikey couldn't remember a time in his life when there wasn't lots of room to stretch out and run and jump around. He remembered, back when he was really little, some of the hallways being big and long enough to even echo-- though he sometimes wondered if that had just been his imagination. Some of the stuff they would make up back then was pretty wild. Their dad had invested in this big old brownstone apartment way back when they moved into Brooklyn, buying up the entire building so that they had all four floors, plus the basement, to themselves. Mikey recalled, vaguely, all the renovations that had gone into it when they first moved to New York, adjusting the fixer-upper into something where four very active children could be raised without feeling cramped. The building was tall and skinny, slotted neatly in with the rest of the city, and Mikey had always loved that. This meant they had the perfect hallways for running back and forth through, and there was a surplus of staircases for him to slide down or jump over. The hardwood floors were excellent surfaces for both Tokyo Drifting and dance practice. They each had gotten their own rooms as they grew as well, with himself and Raph on the second floor, Leo and Donnie on the third, and their father taking the master bedroom on the ground level.

But the best bit was the basement. Lovingly dubbed ‘The Lair,’ their dad had designated it the hub for childhood shenanigans, (and now, teenage activity,) from the get-go, all but sacrificing the space to his sons from the moment they moved in. The house was technically his, sure, but the basement was theirs, like, for real for real. Arcade games and consoles lived down here, hooked up to the big TV on the wall and surrounded by beat-up beanbags. Raph's weight-lifting equipment was in that corner there, and Donnie's bigger, more mechanical projects were over there by the stairs, (with the yellow tape and the ‘do not touch’ signs.) This big wide open space here with the mirrors on the walls and the punching bags mounted on the ceiling was perfect for martial arts, acrobatics, and dance practice alike, depending on which kind of matting they laid out. And, best of all, The Lair was the one place in the house where their dad had reluctantly conceded that, yes, Mikey. You may paint on the walls.

The Lair was typically the best bet for finding any of his brothers, especially if they weren’t holed up in their rooms, and Mikey did think about heading down there, too… but, as very tempting as it was to hang out with brothers first and do math worksheets later, he was pretty sure he could get through his homework in like, thirty minutes tops, and just get it all out of the way. Plus, this way, he didn't have to worry about anyone else making any grabs for his dinner.

With this in mind, he tromped his way up the stairs, nudging his sticker-adorned door open and dumping all his stuff on his desk, immediately shoving the previously-abandoned pizza slice back into his mouth again. He flipped open his textbooks, switched his speakers on to fill the space with some Chill Lofi Beats to Study To, and nudged his desk lamp awake as he settled in to get to work. 

His workload had been pretty light recently, with way fewer teachers than usual handing out paper worksheets and questionnaires, so it didn't take him very long to get through all the assignments and readings. (Also, lowkey, it was times like these that he was like, wow. Thank god for Adderall.) He was nearly done with the last of his work when he suddenly paused. 

Dang. Artistic inspiration was truly a cruel but wondrous mistress. Okay, homework later. He scrambled for his phone, rewinding the song playing over the speakers. Ooh, yeah, okay-- that bass? Oh, hell yeah, this was really good! He could absolutely see the movement in his mind's eye-- he could picture the way the color swooped along with the beat and brightened along with the melody. Oh-- and what if he added some black outlines? What was the title of this song again...? Maybe he should look up the artist. He wondered if this would be better as a direct homage to the artist, (maybe the title up on a wall, in big curved block letters, yellows popping along the edges to pull it into the foreground, and that red in the center to sink it in--) or if this should be a more narrative piece. It made him think of that one movie that they watched two weekends ago-- with the spy and the watering can factory?! And this one line, about the lightning, he could just see the way he could paint a figure to answer that directly. Was it too ambitious to do a zig-zag line of action? Oh, but if he had the leg out like that...

He flipped the page of his notebook, his pencil skritching feverishly on the sheet as he moved to put these thumbnails into reality while they were still ticking through his mind in a slideshow. He paused only to command Spotify to play the song on repeat, his tongue stuck out of the corner of his mouth and his eyes narrowed. Ohmigosh, yes! This would be perfect. He couldn't believe he had never thought of this before. This song had been on his playlist for how long? He had just kind of been spacing out until now, but suddenly, he was so excited about this project.

 And it would be the perfect excuse to use those metallic spray paints he's been hoarding! He practically vibrated with excitement, thumbing the paper with a grin. Oh, that would look amazing. Just a bold streak of shimmery color, bursting out from the composition, like an explosion, he could see it so clearly--

 Half a thought later, the spiral-bound notebook in front of him burst into flames.

Chapter Text

Out of the three of them, Leo was the fastest. Donnie was a close second, and Raph brought up the rear, but none of them were slow by any means. Donnie knew, in the back of his mind, that their Dad was more than capable of some shocking speed when the situation called for it, though he was typically more inclined to amble.

 But goddamn. He always kind of forgot just how fast their dad could move when he heard one of his children scream. 

 They could already hear him opening Mikey's door and demanding to know what happened by the time Leo, Raph and he were even breaking the top of the basement stairs, their hearts thudding in their ears because oh my god. Mikey was either just attacked by one of those shady alley cats that Dad told him not to feed, or he had finally managed to stab himself through the hand with a pencil while trying to do that flip-trick thing he liked to do-- one of the two. 

 "What's going on!?" Leo demanded as the trio skidded to a halt in front of Mikey's door, with Raph crying, "Are you hurt?!" At almost the exact same time, all three of them bunched up around the doorway to see what was going on.

 The good news was there were no maniacal tabbies in sight, nor any writing utensils sticking out of his little brother's palm. A good start. The bad news was the smoldering scrap of paper and wire sitting on his baby brother's burnt desk.

 "I don't know!" Mikey wailed, his eyes wide and beaded with tears. Their father knelt down next to him, placing a hand over Mikey's trembling shoulder in what was likely an attempt at comfort. "I was just sitting here working on a sketch and my notebook caught on fire!"

 Donnie blinked slowly.

 "It caught on fire?" Leo echoed, his voice cautious.

"Yeah! It just-- it just went up in flames!" Mikey sobbed. "All-- all of my sketches are ruined...!"

Raph visibly hesitated, exchanging a look with their father before he spoke, "Uh. Well. The important thing is you weren't hurt--"

"Your notebook just spontaneously burst into flames? On its own? With no outside intervention?" Donnie deadpanned, his lips pursed. He stumbled slightly when Raph smacked him on the shoulder, glaring at his brother. What!? Like he was the only one thinking it! Come on, were they seriously not wondering the same thing?

"It did! I swear!" Mikey pressed, tearing up all over again. "I really– I wasn't doing anything--"

Donnie glanced wildly between his brothers and father, gesturing at the youngest slightly. They didn't seriously-- there was no way–-  

"Science doesn't work like that!" He squawked. "You can't have fire without heat and fuel, it's literally basic physics! They're the main ingredients of an exothermic reaction-- does nobody else in this household respect the sanctity of the fire tetrahedron?!"

"Donatello." 

"Oh, but when I cause an explosion, it's a problem--"

"Donatello," His father's voice was a bit harder this time, and immediately effective at stopping Donnie mid-tirade, his frame freezing in place and his lips still curved into a slight scowl. "Why don't you and your brothers go back downstairs? I have this under control." 

Donnie huffed, his brows bunched together and his lips set in a deep frown, and he really thought about protesting or even refusing for a moment, not wanting to be so easily chased away. But, after a moment longer, he relented, turning to trudge back the way he came with a dramatic huff. "This is so unfair," he muttered as he went, his two brothers right behind him. The three retreated back to the basement, and Donnie's foot had barely even passed the bottom step before Leo turned on his heels to face the other two, giving a wild wave of his hands.

"What the hell was that?!"

"Hey," Raph muttered, as if he actually cared about any of his brothers swearing nowadays-- it was just reflex.

"No, I agree with Leo," Donnie immediately declared, crossing his arms over his chest. "There's no way his notebook actually just burst into flames. I mean, you could maybe convince me that some electrical equipment overheated, but there's no way there would be that dramatic of an effect, and I see no reason why it would center on a notebook of all places, unless Michelangelo was sitting there with a high-powered magnifying glass and directing a sunbeam, in which case he definitely went into my room--"

"Yeah, what Donnie said. But, like, the sane bits," Leo interrupted. "I'm pretty sure homework doesn't just set itself on fire."

"What, you think he's lyin'?" Raph questioned.

"Well, either that or he's finally lost it. Like, this isn't just Mikey weird, this is, like. Weird weird," Leo insisted.

"Why would he lie though?" Donnie questioned, a brow quirked. "Surely he's not that desperate to get out of doing schoolwork. He's been doing really well as of late-- and if he needed to destroy evidence, I can think of about thirty-seven other, much more effective methods just off the top of my head that he could have employed. And none of them involve him physically endangering himself nor scaring the absolute living atoms out of the rest of us."

Raph kept quiet, seeming to consider this for a moment, before his eyes got wide, his face paling a bit.

"You don't-- you guys don't think he's smokin', do ya?" 

"What?! No way! Come on, Raph, don't be crazy," Leo scoffed. "First of all-- what, and throw away his whole athletic career? You know how much he loves skateboarding and dancing and 'razzing his tazz' and all that. He's not that stupid. Second of all, there are about eight million other places he could go if he wanted to smoke in secret besides here. Like… literally all of New York City. Or even just, I dunno, the balcony?! Not his own room? I'm pretty sure we would have noticed by now if he was smoking in his room!" 

 "But why else would he be lighting stuff on fire!?" Raph cried.

 "I dunno. Maybe just for fun or something? Donnie lights stuff on fire all the time."

"HEY!"

"You do, don't try to deny it."

"That's DIFFERENT, it's science--"

"Anyway. What teenage boy doesn't go through a 'lighting stuff on fire' phase? I'm pretty sure I read that in one of Dad's parenting books one time," Leo concludes, planting his hands firmly on his hips as if that were the end of it. Donnie rolled his eyes.

"You didn't. Raph didn't," he pointed out.

"Which means, statistically, Mikey definitely has to!" Leo replied.

"That's not how statistics work--"

"Bup-bup-bup-bup. Both of you, chill. Look, Dad said he's handling it, so he's handling it! We don't gotta sweat it. Just let them work it out, come on. I bet they'll be done before we finish even one round of Smash Bros."

"Michelangelo."

Even when he spoke, prodding him gently with his words, working so hard to keep his voice steady and even and calm, his youngest son wouldn't look up at him. Wouldn't meet his eyes. He kept his head down, sniffling weakly and making soft, hiccupy sounds that sank wetly to the floor around them. Yoshi was no stranger to his children's tears, but that didn't mean it ever got easier to hear. It made his chest twist.

"Mikey," he tried again, idly rubbing the teenager's shoulder. "Tell me again exactly what happened--"

"I promise I'm not making it up!" Mikey immediately cried, his head bobbing up, the little rainbow beads in his hair clicking softly against one another. "I swear, Dad, it really did just catch on fire! I swear I'm not lying or anything! Why would I-- I-- I mean, my, my sketches, all my homework, my notes, you know I wouldn't--"

"I know," Yoshi assured quickly. And he did. Michelangelo was certainly no angel, contrary to what his name might suggest, and he was just as capable of getting into trouble as the rest of his boys were. Did he really think Yoshi was dumb enough to not be aware of that tagging thing he was doing with his Posca's? And how many parent-teacher conferences had he been called to over the years? And which one of his sons was the only one who had ever gotten suspended for fighting? 

But a liar, Michelangelo was not. As much as he tried, he just didn't have it in him-- he always cracked with even the barest amount of pressure, much to his brothers' chagrin. It had taken years off his life when they first moved up here into the city. He had spent weeks and weeks driving their cover story into the four of them, and subtly teaching Michelangelo how to divert and distract and dodge. 

Without meaning to, his eyes flickered down to the small golden bracelet encircling his son's wrist, the tiny orange gem inlaid in it catching the light for a moment. One of a matching set of five-- one of which was on his own arm at this very moment.

  Remember, my son, what do you do when people start asking too many questions?" 

  "CRY!"

 "That's right! Good boy!"

 (Wait, was it his fault he cried so easily now? He's getting distracted. Focus on the now.)

"I know you're not lying to me, Mikey. You are not a very good liar," he teased, smiling the tiniest bit. He wasn't rewarded with the laughter he was hoping for, so he pressed on. "I'm sure that whatever happened, it was an accident... and that there's a reasonable explanation! I'm sure. Perhaps there was just a short circuit somewhere, and a spark caught your paper. I will have your brother look into it. I'm simply glad you weren't hurt." 

 Mikey paused, frowning a bit, his eyes searching and unsure. Yoshi fought to keep his face as calm and reassuring as he possibly could.

 "I'm sure your teacher will understand, I will... write her a note. And, uh... we will get you a new desk..."

 "You believe me?" Mikey said, brows knit together in a crease. "And...you’re not mad? I'm not in trouble?"

 "No, you're not in trouble."

 "But-- my desk is burnt-- I mean, when Donnie--"

 "You're not in trouble," Yoshi repeated. "Just… be careful, my son. I do not want you to get hurt." 

 Mikey stayed quiet for a moment, staring their father down before they finally gave a very slow nod.

"Okay..."

"Good boy," he said, offering him a small, albeit forced smile, rubbing his son's shoulder in reassurance one more time before he got back up to his feet (with an exaggerated groan of effort.) "It is late. Go get ready for bed. We'll worry about the desk later."

 Watching his son's muted nod, Yoshi made his exit, closing the door firmly behind him and inhaling deeply-- frozen for just a moment now that his son's eyes were not on him.

 Michelangelo was not a liar.

 That was what worried him. 

“I’m just saying—“

“Raph.”

“That if you were—“

“Raph.”

“We would help you! We just want you to be safe!”

“Raph! For the last time! I don’t smoke! I’ve never smoked a cigarette in my entire life!”

“I’m saying, I mean, if you DID, I mean, Raph wouldn’t be angry! I just.” 

He sniffled loudly.

“I JUST REALLY CARE ABOUT YOU AND—“

“Okay well, now I am gonna start smoking.”

“NO!!!”

Yoshi floated through the next few days, muscle memory, thankfully, filling in for him while his brain was occupied elsewhere. It was a good thing that his family had been to approximately eight-million martial arts tournaments over the past decade, or he may have been in trouble. Luckily, everything was, by now, second nature-- ensuring everything needed was accounted for, getting everyone to the gymnasium on time, signing in to each event and finding a seat... 

 He wanted to be present. He wanted to be aware of what was happening around him, to pay attention to the tournament, but it was a struggle to even keep his eyes open. The act of ‘sleeping’ had recently been superseded by that of ‘pouring over Hamato Clan scrolls,’ searching desperately for some sort of an answer or explanation, or even better, a solution.

Yoshi had never regretted his choice to turn his back on his ‘destiny’ before. He had never regretted choosing not to finish his training, and in failing to unlock his ninpo. What use did he have for such things? And what benefit could he possibly find in throwing his life away for the sake of a 'what if,' a what if that had never come to pass in his clan's history? Perhaps life had not turned out exactly as he had planned, and all his choices as a young adult had not exactly been the wisest, but... 

This choice? No. He had never regretted it.

Until now.

Now, his bones ached with remorse. Perhaps if he had learned it himself, he would be more useful now in ensuring his son's safety. He had lit his notebook on fire for god's sake-- what if he had hurt himself? What if the fire had spread?! And how was he supposed to keep his children safe when this power wasn't something that he understood, nor something that they were even aware of themselves?

He grumbled softly to himself, squinting a bit and hunching over in his seat on the bleachers. Uncomfortable-- these always hurt his back. Thinking about this, it hurt his head. For the thousandth time in his life, he wondered if he was making the right choice as a parent. As a person. He didn't want to deceive his sons. It was never his intention-- it wasn't his plan-- but--

"Yoshi."

Yoshi started slightly in response to his own name, momentarily distracted from the rather consuming task of pushing two small children on swings in tandem. He had tried to negotiate taking turns, but Raph and Mikey had insisted they wanted to swing together...

He grit his teeth a bit at being interrupted in the middle of an outing with his children by what was, he assumed, a fan or reporter, but when he turned to face the voice, he froze in place. Ice climbed up his throat and lodged itself there.

"... Hinata."

They looked different from the last time he saw them-- older, certainly-- but he still recognized the face of his cousin right away. Not dragging his eyes away from the other, he slowed the two children's swings to a stop, leaning down to speak to them.

"Why don't you boys go and play with your brothers in the sandbox for a little bit? My arms need a break, and then we can swing some more."

"I don't wanna play in the sandbox!" Mikey immediately protested, his eyes wide. 

"Mikey--"

"Come on, Mikey. It'll be fun," Raph interrupted, taking his little brother's hand in his own. "I'll let ya bury me!" 

The four-year-old immediately lit up at that, wasting no time at all in throwing himself off the swing and sprinting in the direction of the sandbox, where Donnie and Leo were already gathered. Raph followed after, but not after just a moment of hesitation, glancing at their father for just a second before running off.

As helpful as his eldest’s reaction was, it made Yoshi’s heart twist to think on it too hard. He wasn’t the eldest by much. He was still a child as well. 

This was why they had moved to the surface. This was why Yoshi had chosen to risk exactly this scenario. But he had still hoped it would not happen. And he did not think it would happen this quickly.

Rising up to his full height once more, he narrowed his eyes at his cousin, resisting the urge to cross his arms over his chest or plant his hands on his hips. He was not a teenager anymore.

 "Why are you here, Hinata," he slipped easily into his native tongue, knowing that Hinata would do the same. He would never forget the language he spent the first eighteen years of his life speaking, but now, after all this time, he would admit, Japanese almost felt foreign in his mouth.

 "Yoshi! It is so good to see you again-- after all this time, we all thought-- I mean--"

 "We both know perfectly well you are not here for pleasantries, Hinata," he snapped, his temper flaring for a moment, getting the better of him. "You did not travel all the way to New York to say ‘hello’. Why did you come?"

 "... We heard in the news, that you have children. What a surprise for all of us, after how adamant you were growing up...!"

"And what business is that of yours?"

 "Yoshi," Hinata said, a sigh weighing down their voice. "I know that you never completed your training, but--"

 "And they will never start."

 "Yoshi, please, be reasonable."

 "I am being reasonable!"

 "You are the last direct descendant of the Hamato Clan, Yoshi! You, and now them! We have a duty! A responsibility to the world!"

 "Them!?" Yoshi hissed, gesturing violently to the sandbox across the playground, where his three children excitedly worked to try to bury their older brother. He struggled to keep his voice down. " They have a responsibility to the world?! A duty to fulfill?! They are children!"

 "You think I am not fully aware that it is a great burden to bear!? Do you think the rest of us have reveled in it?!" Hinata spat. "Just because a task is difficult does not mean you can abandon it, Yoshi!"

 "Why!? What is stopping us!?" Yoshi threw up his arms. "If you are content wasting your life preparing for the return of a scary story, be my guest! But you will not drag my children into it. I will not send them away to be raised without a parent. I will not sacrifice them for some supposed greater good. And I will not be convinced otherwise," he hissed, each word burning his lips from how cold they came out-- a surprise each time. 

"Yoshi. Please. We are your family. We cannot do this without you."

"Listen to me carefully, Hinata," Yoshi said, his eyes narrowed into slits. "The Hamato Clan will have no part in my sons' lives. They will not train them. They will not speak to them. They will not attempt to make any form of contact with them. And if any of you do, then you will be hearing from my lawyers. None of you will touch a single hair on their heads."

 He leaned in a bit closer. 

 "And if anyone attempts to, then I will break all of the fingers on their hands, and worry about the lawyers later. Do you understand?"

 Hinata kept quiet for a moment, their eyes searching the other, as though they were trying to decide whether or not their cousin was serious. Eventually, their shoulders slumped. 

 "... Your Jiji missed you, Yoshi."

 "Stop."

 "He was devastated when we heard you had gone missing."

 "Hinata."

 "Until his dying breath--"

 Every muscle in Yoshi's body jerked and tensed, coiled tight and hot. His lips curled into a snarl, and he clenched his hands into fists.

He walked away. Hinata did not follow him.

He sat with his children in the sandbox until he was sure Hinata was gone. He pushed Raph and Mikey on the swings for five minutes longer, as he had promised, and then he let Leo and Donnie have a turn, to be fair.

 Raph asked him who the person from before was. Yoshi told him it was an old friend. Mikey asked him if he was sad, because he seemed like he was sad. Yoshi had smiled and said that Mikey should not worry about it, and he was fine. They did not ask any further questions, and Yoshi was relieved.

 He brought his sons home, parked them in front of the television, and locked himself in his room to weep as softly as he could.   

 He laid in bed and he wept until his eyes were swollen and his head ached. He felt stupid for being so upset. Hadn’t he renounced the Hamato Clan ages ago? Nothing had changed— he always knew that this would be his response if his family sought him out again. Hadn’t he known that his Jiji was surely gone by now, given the time that had passed? But still, it was different for it to be confirmed. It was different for everything to be spoken out loud and real and definite and unable to be taken back.

 The term ‘uncontrollable sobbing’ had never really meant anything to him before. He had cried before, sure, but this was different. He hadn’t thought it could be so literal. This was horrendous.

 When he finally ran out of tears, he curled up on his side, hidden beneath sheets and blankets, feeling rather pitiful and unsure what to do with himself. His chest was all hollow and empty now, like something had been carved out of him. And all that was left was this deep, terrible frustration.

 The world felt so hideously unfair in this moment. He thought of every other human on the planet who didn’t have the same problems as him, who had families without destinies or sacrifices, and he resented each and every one of them. He thought, “How could they do this to me?” He thought about his mother, and his jaw set. He thought about the hours of training he had endured as a child, and his face flushed with anger, heady and dark. He thought of Hinata, who he had grown up alongside, played with, shared secrets with, and he wished they were here— or anyone, truly anyone in the world was here in their place— so he could kick their teeth out of their skull and stomp on their throats. 

 How dare they try to take his children from him? 

Seething, lit up red in every part of his soul, simmering like oil, he slowly sat up, inhaling long and slow before letting it out again. No. The Hamato Clan and their traditions would never touch his children. They would not so much as graze the silhouettes of their lives. His children would never be kept awake at night learning lore and stories from fabricated scrolls. They would never be informed of their purpose in life, nor told that they had no say in it. They would never be taught to fight, never endure hours of martial arts lessons, never cry or beg for their training to finally be finished for the day— 

For the second time that day, a sudden noise startled Yoshi from his thoughts, and his head bobbed about at the low thud and scrabble from the living room.

 Ah. Mmm… yes. Of course. His beloved and innocent sons. One of his eyes twitched a bit, and he debated his next action for a moment. He didn’t especially want to interact with any of his children given his current… whole emotional situation, but, after a bit of hemming and hawwing, relented that he probably should go and check that no one was injured. Grumbling a bit to himself, he dragged himself to his feet, shuffling down the hall to peer around the corner and into the living room.

“Give up now! You’re no match for me and my super rad skills!” Leo shrieked from in front of the TV, his mouth set in a mischievous grin. 

“Oh yeah?” Raph echoed his younger brother’s smile before leaping at his brother. “Watch this! POMPADOUR PUNCH!”

Yoshi noted dimly that whatever cartoons he had left them with had long been exchanged for one of his many films, which was now flickering across the screen. Donatello’s doing, he assumed. 

“Mikey! Cover me! We gotta get to higher ground!” Leo yelped through laughter, throwing himself at the couch and attempting to climb up the back of it. Michelangelo, as instructed, koala-hugged his oldest brother’s legs in an attempt to slow him down. 

“Donnie! Raph’s been got! You gotta stop Leo!” Raph barked, very obviously trying to rope the purple one into the shenanigans and include him in the fun. 

 Donnie gave a determined chirp and a nod in reply, his expression turning very serious in such a way that Yoshi had to smile a tiny bit. 

 “HA! I’d like to see you try! No one can stop a NINJA!” Leo crowed, striking a pose to mirror Yoshi’s own younger self on the television. It certainly wasn’t CORRECT, but… It wasn’t bad, either. His boys were still young, but Yoshi had, admittedly, taught them some of the basics of stances and things of the like when he needed something to keep them busy in the sewers. He was a bit surprised that his children had retained any of those lessons, but it was evident in how they held themselves that they had. 

 And… letting them watch kung-fu movies probably had an influence as well, admittedly.

 Sighing softly, Yoshi leaned against the wall, resting his cheek against the cool drywall. He thought, absently, of how he and his cousins would play this way when they were small and met at family gatherings, and his shoulders slumped slightly, the tight muscles unwinding. He thought of how they would train together, coaching one another through difficult stances or sequences and celebrating when they finally got it down, and the heat in his cheeks slowly tempered and faded. He thought of the pride he wore so brazenly as a child— proud of his destiny, proud of his heritage, proud of the abilities he had built for himself. Proud to be a Hamato. He silently wiped at his face, scrubbing at his cheeks with his palms. He had thought he had run out of tears, but perhaps he hadn’t.

The frustration and anger were gone now. The hollow was simply hollow now— empty and worn. Yes, something had been carved out. He recognized the grief. And he was still completely sure of himself when he said that the Hamato Clan would never touch his children.

… But he supposed that, perhaps, he didn’t have to abandon every part of his past.

It might be okay if they dipped their toes into some of the traditions. Perhaps they could still be Hamatos on their own.

“Point!”

 Had he fallen asleep for a moment there?… Yoshi cursed himself internally when he realized that he had missed the entire match in favor of old memories. His eyes refocused on the scene before him— his son standing over a somewhat shaken-looking opponent on the mat, the referee gesturing to Donatello in victory.

He was too busy lost in his thoughts to pay attention. He wrinkled his nose a bit, but he could see Donnie’s head turn, glancing to the stands to search for him in the crowd. As soon as he was able to catch his eyes, Yoshi offered a small smile and an appraising nod, which earned him a barely-contained beam in response.

As soon as the eyes had been removed from him, Yoshi let out a breath, slumping against the wall. A close one… Now was not the time to be worrying about such things. Given the family’s hectic schedule, Yoshi was not able to attend nearly every competition his sons participated in… He owed it to them, at least, to be present when he did. 

Though truth be told, he doubted he had missed too much. He had known before the match had even started that Donatello would win. At an event this size, there would be very few other competitors who would pose any real challenge to any of his boys.

 They were quite good. After all, he was the one who had taught them to fight in the first place.

Donnie caught sight of their father in the doorway just a moment later, pausing in his climb up the back of the couch to try to tackle his twin brother. The other three caught on quickly, glancing back around at Yoshi with wide eyes. The transition to the surface had been an adjustment for all of them, and they still sometimes had a bit of trouble remembering what was OK for the sewers VS OK for polite society— but generally speaking, their Dad didn’t always appreciate roughhousing and shouting, nor climbing on top of furniture. Yoshi gave a soft exhale of laughter through his nose, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. He was sure that, eventually, they would all figure out that freezing upon eye contact would immediately clue their father in that they knew full well that they were breaking the rules, but… not yet.

 Not yet.

“You changed the movie,” he remarked, wandering into the living room to join them.

 “We wanted to be ninjas,” Mikey volunteered from the floor, his little head popping up from behind the cushions. “Like you, Daddy!”

 Of course. Ninjas like him.

 He bit the insides of his cheeks. That? Maybe not… today. But…

 “ … How would you boys like to learn to talk like ninjas do?”

Chapter Text

Amongst the Hamato family, there were four different languages known, to varying degrees of fluency. Quite obviously, all five of them knew English. To be fair, only Donnie and Leo were in any advanced literature classes, but that was beside the point. 

 The first additional language the boys learned was Japanese. Donnie remembered when he was five, their Dad offered to teach them. Many people were surprised that he managed to get four young boys interested in language lessons, but they had been so thrilled to learn to speak the same way their Dad could-- to speak the ‘Ninja Language,’ as he had pitched it back then. It's not like they had picked it up right away, but between Japanese cartoons on the TV and their Dad speaking in his native tongue at home, they all eventually got pretty good at it. Nowadays the skill was mostly used for watching anime together, keeping secrets from classmates, and making far-fetched requests from their father. He was more likely to say 'yes,' they found, if requests were made in his first language. He usually still said no anyway, but it did help! Donnie had the statistics to back it up.

 The most recent language to enter the household was Spanish, and that one was all Leo and Donnie. Leo had started taking Spanish in middle school to meet a requirement, and, to the surprise of everyone except their father, who remembered how quickly he picked up languages in the past, took to it like a fish to water. He was quickly moved to advanced classes in the subject, and then later began sprinkling Spanish into his everyday vocabulary for the express purpose of showing off. Donnie couldn't allow his twin brother to outdo him in anything academic, so shortly after, he began learning Spanish as well. Quite frankly, they were probably both as fluent as they were simply because they were both so determined to be better than the other. 

 In between Japanese and Spanish, there was American Sign Language, and this one had been entirely for his benefit, Donnie recognized. Everyone in his family could sign. April had even learned, back when they were little. April didn't participate in his and Leo's unspoken Spanish competition, despite Donatello's numerous invitations, and she didn't know more than a few simple words of Japanese that she had picked up over time. But she was fluent in sign language. 

 Nowadays, Donnie considered himself quite eloquent, actually, and his entire family could certainly tell you that it could be hard to get him to shut up sometimes once he got started. But that hadn't always been the case.

 Look. Talking was... hard sometimes. It was a difficult concept to explain to someone who didn't get it. It wasn't like he hadn't known how to talk, or he didn't understand language. The words were there, at least, they were in his head. He always knew exactly what he would say, if he could, always had thoughts and feelings on every situation he walked through as a child. But when he tried to speak, a lot of the time, the words just wouldn't make it out. They'd be gobbled up in his throat-- caught up in a traffic jam and clumped together in this thick, sticky glob that he couldn't swallow around, making his entire head feel all warm and fuzzy. 

 So usually, he just didn't try.

 He could do short sentences and key phrases by the time he was four, most of them echoes of phrases he had heard in the past, but he could still remember how he would go weeks without saying a word. To be fair, when he was little, it wasn't like he was averse to sitting by himself and playing alone or reading. He still wasn’t, actually! He kind of preferred it at times. And it wasn't like he and his family didn't communicate. His brothers never really seemed too worried about the fact that Donnie didn't talk, (though he could tell even then that his Dad was,) and nods, gestures, or noises were usually enough to get the basic point across. His twin was especially good at interpreting the various clicks and trills and squeaks that he was inclined to make at that age. 

But it could be... frustrating, to put it lightly. There were so many things in his head all the time, and he had nowhere to put them. If someone didn't understand what he was trying to tell them, he didn't have any other options to turn to. Chirping didn't work? Neither did pointing? Well, guess what, we've exhausted all possible choices. Cowabummer.

 Yeah. It was, admittedly, the source of more than a couple of meltdowns. 

 Things had changed when they moved to New York.

 His memories from back then were pretty fuzzy, and Donatello was pretty sure that there were more than a couple that were fabricated or exaggerated, but he remembered when they moved-- at least parts of it. He was sure his father did, too. Because at first, Donnie had hated it.

Yoshi muttered a few curses in Japanese under his breath, hunched over the kitchen counter and scribbling furiously in his planner. He swore he must be forgetting something, but everything seemed accounted for. Get the kids to school, meeting with his lawyers, conference call after that, he had to talk to his agent, still, there was that parenting class, then he had to pick the kids back up. The renovation guy should be around this afternoon so he could finally corner him-- wait, had he actually submitted that paperwork to the city this time, or had he forgotten again--?

 The chaos in his schedule was reflected in his home, his four children loudly chasing each other around the living room in various states of dress and disarray, playing some game or another and most definitely not getting ready for school. Yoshi sighed softly, rubbing his temples. Right... first things first. Get the kids to school. Then tackle the rest. 

 "Red! Help your little brother put his shoes on, please," he instructed primly, raising his voice to be heard over the racket. To his credit, Raph perked up and responded immediately, grabbing Mikey's hand and dragging him off to help wrestle his sneakers on. "Leo, I laid out your clothes on your bed. These are not it. Go and change."

 "This outfit is better!" Leonardo defended, gesturing proudly to his swim trunks and dress pants, layered over top of each other on his stubby legs. Shirt not included.

 "Tomorrow, we can pick an outfit together. Today, you will-- Purple!!!"

 He was mid-lecture with one twin when he spotted the other out of the corner of his eyes, having planted themselves in front of the hallway mirror, Sharpie marker in their hand and poised to begin writing on their own face. Yoshi managed to pull the pen from his grip just in the nick of time, though he nearly fell on the floor in doing so. Not a good back feel.

 "We do not write on our faces with markers, Purple," he explained, and even he could hear how exhausted his own voice was. This was only their first week of school. He already got enough looks as it was, he could not show up to kindergarten with one of his children's faces having been Sharpied--

 Donatello stared up at him with wide eyes, blinking slowly from behind his glasses. His lower lip wobbled slightly, and, after a moment, he pointed at his own eyebrows with both hands, tapping a few times.

 Yoshi sighed softly, rubbing the bridge of his nose. Right. Of course. This thing Donnie had started doing several months ago, though he still had no idea why-- Drawing eyebrows on each morning.

 "My son," he said slowly. "You already have eyebrows."

 Donnie stared at him.

 And then promptly started to sob. 

 Yoshi's heart clenched. "Donatello--"

 His son plopped down onto his butt on the floor and screamed. Ah, one of those, then. His sympathy didn't leave, but he would admit, a thread of exasperation did join it. This was the last thing he needed right now.

 "Okay! Okay, alright, fine. We will get you your eyebrows, Donatello. You will have proper eyebrows," he tried to soothe. Donatello's screaming lessened slightly, but the tears didn't stop, hiccuping and taking deep, heaving breaths that shuddered his entire frame. Yoshi took the chance to spit out some quick instructions to his remaining children. "Leonardo, go get dressed, now, and put your shoes on. Raph, Mikey, grab you and your brother's bags, let's go." 

 "Come on, Purple. Get up. Come on," he slowly eased the child to his feet, and Donnie, in response, latched onto his father's arm and refused to let him go, his bottom lip still trembling, tears and snot dripping down his face. Okay, sure, fine. He could carry him. His purplest child didn’t care for being touched except for when he did, he had found over the years. "It is okay. We are getting eyebrows..."

 He didn't bother with getting shoes or socks onto him, just shoved them into his purple backpack to deal with later and gathered up his remaining sons, and got them out the door. Halfway down the street, he realized he forgot his phone on the kitchen counter, went back, retrieved it, and then left a second time. And the five of them made their way across and down the block to CVS.

 With a short order to his eldest to keep an eye on Mikey and for them not to leave the aisle, he made his way down the make-up section. Balancing a teary-faced and barefooted Donatello on his hip he picked his way through the various products and displays until he found what he was looking for. 

 Eyebrow pencils. 

 Selecting one in an appropriate shade, (he was an actor, do you think he doesn't know make-up?) he quietly held it out to his son.

 "Here. Will this work?"

 Donatello took the pencil into his hands, turning it over a few times. He glanced up at his father again, tapping on his eyebrows once more.

 "Yes. You can draw on your eyebrows with this."

 He stayed quiet for a bit longer, and then he nodded. Thank god.

 "Good. Here, sit, and I will put on your shoes, okay?"

 Donnie nodded again, and Yoshi kneeled down, setting his child down on the linoleum floor and digging his socks and shoes out of his bag. Slowly, he rolled his socks onto his feet, one at a time, and then got his shoes onto his feet as well, velcroing them tightly the way he knew his son preferred. Donnie watched him silently as he did so. Once he was done, he picked himself up off the floor, and then picked Donnie back up as well, holding him up so he could see himself in one of the little mirrors they had tacked up on the product displays.

 "Can you see?" He asked softly.

 Donnie nodded a tiny bit, examining himself in the mirror for a moment before he got to work, very slowly and purposefully filling in each brow, his nose scrunched up with focus.

 Yoshi let out a breath he didn't realize he had been holding. For a little while, he just let them be quiet. In the background, he could hear Leo, Mikey, and Raph chattering about something or another, stacking up shampoo bottles in the aisle like bowling pins. At least they were were following directions.  

 "Donatello."

 Donnie hummed softly in response, not pausing in his task.

 "I know that things have been very different lately. And you don't like it very much when things change." 

 Donnie nodded slightly. 

 "And I know that you want to go home. But this is our home now, my son. You will get used to it. I promise."

 Donnie frowned slightly, moving one hand to tap at the side of his head, tugging on his ears. 

 "Yes, it is louder up here sometimes, isn't it?" He sighed. "... I know you don't like the traffic or the crowds very much. Or when the renovators work on the apartment." 

 Donnie shook his head fervently, his frown deepening. 

 "I know. I know, my son. But I promise it is temporary. And soon we will have a very wonderful new home."

 He knew his kid wasn't quite convinced.

 "There are many things to love about the city, Donnie. Like school. You like school, don't you?"

Donnie shrugged a bit, looking down at his feet. He had been so excited when he came home the first day, but Yoshi could tell that his enthusiasm was waning over time as things became more and more overwhelming. 

Yoshi sighed softly. "We will work on it," he assured. He paused a moment, hesitating just long enough to convince himself that he actually did believe the next sentence out of his mouth. "I wouldn't have brought us here if I didn't believe it was truly for the best. This is the best place for our family, Donnie. Including you. Can you please trust me?"

 It took a bit, but eventually, he nodded in response.

At least that was a start. 

"This weekend," he began, slowly, because he still wasn't entirely sure about this. Was it too soon? Would it be too much for him? But God knew he could use the help-- "I'd like for us to go meet some people together. Just the two of us. I've been speaking with some folks who'd like to talk to you," he explained. Donnie stared him down, and Yoshi internally scrambled a bit, because he always struggled a bit with Donnie. He was five, but he was so goddamn smart, he was never completely sure how much he should or should not try to explain things at times like these...

 "They're doctors," he continued. "But different from Dr. Davis. I promise no shots or touching. Just talking. Can we do that?"

 Eventually, Donatello nodded, and Yoshi's shoulders sagged slightly with relief. 

"Okay," he said. "Are your eyebrows done?" A nod. "Can I put you back down?" Another nod, and Yoshi set Donatello back down on the floor, who went to go fetch his backpack and wrestle it onto his back.

 "Boys! Come on. Put those away, it's time to go," he said, turning to begin to round up his other sons. 

 "Already!?" Mikey cried.

 "But we didn't get anything!" Leo protested.

 "I've already got--"

 "How come Donnie gets something and not us?!"

 "No fair!"

 "I want something too!"

 "Dad! I want a pencil too!"

 Oh for God's sake. Yoshi sighed deeply, tilting his head back, staring up at the ceiling for several moments, questioning the course of his life.

 "Fine. You may each get one item from this aisle. You have five minutes. Go. And if there is any fighting, you will not get anything," he warned, and the three remaining children squealed, racing down the make-up aisle to pick out their prizes.

 They were definitely going to be late to school this morning.

Nowadays, with years of speech therapy and social skills group and therapy behind him, Donnie usually found talking to be easy. Non-verbal episodes were relatively infrequent and short-lived, and even then, he and his family could always sign with each other instead. Even if he was still verbal, he and his brothers still signed often.

 Whenever words were difficult, it was just easier to sign instead. 

 Donnie had opened his mouth and closed it about five times now, considering what he wanted to say and how he wanted to say it in between packing up his bag, having already changed out of his Gi and back into street clothes. Eventually, he just decided to use his hands. 

 'Is something going on with Dad?'

 Mikey paused, looking up from his own duffle bag, tilting his head to the side slightly. 

 "What? Why?"

 'Didn't he seem weird to you today?'

 "Well..."

 "He's kinda got a point," Leo hummed from the nearby locker room bench, lacing up his sneakers. "He's been out of it all weekend."

 'Ever since Mikey lit his room on fire,' Donnie corrected, and Mikey bristled in defense.

 "I told you I didn't set my room--!"

 "Hey," Raph interrupted, frowning a bit, before he slipped into ASL as well, his bag already packed and his hands free. 'Maybe it just spooked him. You know how he worries.'

 'Not like this,' Donnie protested, wrinkling up his nose a bit. 'Every time I looked at him the entire tournament, he was just staring off into nothing. He's never like that unless re-runs of Baywatch are on.'

 "Maybe he's tired," Leo suggested. "I don't think he's really been sleeping that much. Have you seen the bags under his eyes? Plus, I caught him up in the living room the other night going through some papers or whatever at, like... three in the morning."

"And what were you doing up at three in the morning?" Mikey asked dryly, not looking up from the zipper he was trying to muscle shut.

 "Hey. Look. This isn't about me. This is about Dad," Leo said quickly, getting to his feet and slinging his duffle over his shoulder, beginning to sign once he had the hands to do so. No point in risking anyone overhearing them when they didn't have to... plus, he knew Donnie liked when they all signed instead of mismatching. 'But what are we supposed to do anyway? Confront him? You know he won't talk to us about it. He's, like, the king of weird spooky secrets.'

Donnie frowned a bit, shrugging. He was loath to admit it, but Leo did have a point. Their Dad hated to talk about himself or his past outside of trivia about his acting career. Donnie had tried to ask him about their extended family once, and he had just totally shut down. He wouldn't even tell them what his parents' names were. And the four of them had always tried to respect that. I mean... they knew it was all really complicated. I mean, jesus, he had basically been kidnapped and presumed dead for, like, twelve years. That had to be traumatic, right?

Most of what Donnie knew, factually, about their move to New York, he had gotten from old magazine articles and talk show segments that he found online later in life. He knew what all the reports and stuff said, sure, about the abusive ex, (their mom, he thought dimly in the back of his mind, whose face he couldn't even remember,) the going into hiding, the forced isolation. But none of them had ever talked about it. He had been really little back then, so he couldn't really remember very much. His memories were more just general feelings or ideas rather than any actual events. He remembered playing pretend games with his brothers more than anything else. He used to think that that was odd, because he had never been much of a 'pretend' kid as compared to his siblings growing up, but his therapist noted that it was common for small children to use fantasy or make-believe to 'escape' from bad situations or explain away trauma. So he supposed maybe that was it.

He remembered it being dark most of the time. And he remembered his feet being cold a lot. There was this sound that he heard in his head a lot when he thought of it, but he had no idea what it was. Shhhh shhhhh.

But that was about it. He and his brothers, in turn, didn't really talk about it amongst each other either, or with other people. It just felt... weird. Or wrong, somehow, he supposed? Whatever.

 'Maybe he's just having a bad week or something,' Raph shrugged. 'Or it's just one of his things. I know you wanna help, but maybe we should just mind our business. Let him work it out.'

'We could just ask,' Mikey's hands were free now, too. 'We're his family! I'm sure he'd at least appreciate knowing we care! Even if he doesn't wanna talk about it.'

Leo wrinkled his nose a bit. 'Okay, fine. How about this? If he's still being weird by the time we get back from the swim meet on Wednesday, then we'll ask,' he suggested, a hand on his hip. 

'Sounds like a plan,' Raph confirmed, nodding a bit. 'Until then, everyone better be on their best behavior! The last thing we need is to stress Pops out even more! No skipping classes. No fights. No explosions or fire of any kind!'

Donnie wasn't going to lie, there was something kind of satisfying about sharing Raph's pointed look with Mikey. His littlest brother was absolutely scowling, glaring at Raph's back as they filed out of the locker room to go find their dad, weaving past the crowds of other competitors and parents as they went. 

At some point, Leo fell into step beside him. His twin brother tilted his head at him slightly, one brow raised. 

'You good?'

Donnie nodded a little, conjuring up his voice again to reassure the other.

 "I'm fine. Not nonverbal. Just worried about Dad," he explained shortly, and Leo's stance relaxed slightly. 

 "Okay, cool. Just checking, hermano," he hummed. "... I mean, I was a little worried that my incredibly awesome ninjocity today was so brilliant and amazing that you were just too shocked to speak, or something. Did you notice, by the way? That I took first place in the lightweight category? What place did you take again? Just wondering."

 Donnie rolled his eyes, looking down his nose at the other and pursing his lips. "Right. Also, unrelated, which one of us was victorious at that gymnastics meet on Friday? I'm having a bit of difficulty recalling, dear brother, perhaps you could help jog my memory..."

"Psh! Please, that's in the past, Donnie. You've gotta live in the now. And right now, I won, and you lost, and everyone should appreciate how amazing I did, and also the fact that I totally kicked your ass! God, tournaments are the best. It’s the only place where I’m legally allowed to kick you in the head."

“And what about the rest of the time? When you kick me in the head anyway?”

“Be gay do crime, Donnie,” Leo said with a shrug. “Also, it’s usually revenge for you kicking me in the head.”

“Fair enough.” 

With how much Donatello had fidgeted with them at first, Yoshi had been a bit afraid that he wouldn’t be willing to wear the headphones, or that they’d do more damage than they helped… but he seemed to have finally adjusted, his arms hanging limply at his side.

And Yoshi was starting to think that the people at the Counseling and Testing Center were on to something. Because his son wasn’t flinching or fidgeting, wasn’t pulling at his ears or whining or scrunching up his face. 

This was the calmest he had seen him in weeks.

Thank god.

A part of him was thinking, how in the world had he never thought of this before? But most of him was just relieved to see his child without any discomfort or pain. Waving to him slightly to get his attention, he offered his hand to Donnie, and they took it immediately, clinging on fast to their dad’s fingers.

“Ready?” He questioned, making sure he was loud enough that Donatello could hear him through the noise-canceling headphones.

Donnie nodded firmly, and so off they went.

Yoshi felt a bit bad for taking Donatello out on his own for the second weekend in a row, leaving his other sons behind with a babysitter, but quite frankly, he felt like the purple one deserved it. He would simply have to arrange one-on-one time for the others later to make up for it. Today was for Donnie.

If he was ever going to adjust, he needed to have things to love about the city. Proper things.

Every step of their journey out of the apartment, Yoshi was impressed over and over with his child. With his headphones on and his dad’s hand held tight, he faced the city streets, the traffic, and the crowds alike bravely. When they made their way down to the subway, he stayed close to his father the entire time, not wandering off or straying. On the train, he sat quietly with his book in his lap, flapping his hands as he read. And when a woman with, quite frankly, far too much perfume boarded the subway, he pulled on his dad’s sleeves until he understood so they could move to a different train car. 

The whole way to Manhattan, Yoshi was proud.

They eventually approached their destination, and honestly, it took a bit longer than he had expected it to because Donnie kept wanting to stop and examine things. He stopped to investigate the relief out front of the lions, and the sculpture of Theodore Roosevelt and his horse. He was fascinated by the many tiers of stairs leading up to the building, as well as the four massive columns framing the main entrance. He dragged his feet through the line for tickets, rubbing his hands up and down the velvet ropes, a tiny smile on his face the entire time as he explored the texture with his fingertips.

But it was fine. The day was for him, and it was nice to get to see him enjoy and examine everything properly now that he wasn’t quite so overwhelmed. And it was worth the wait, because when he finally managed to herd Donatello to his end goal, he was rewarded with the most overjoyed, elated squeal he had ever heard out of his child as he took in the glory of the American Museum of Natural History’s space exhibit. 

Yoshi chuckled softly, hurrying his pace a bit to keep up with them as they darted forward to the nearest model and plaque to begin reading. 

“Dad!” He shrieked excitedly, turning around just long enough to make sure his father was still behind him, pointing excitedly up at the diagram in front of him, scaled replicas of their galaxy’s planets hanging overhead. Donatello kept looking up, and then back down, and then up again, and back down, like he was too thrilled to decide what he wanted to look at first.

‘Universe. Galaxies. Stars. Planets,’ the diagram read.

“Yes, I know. Do you like it?”

Donnie nodded so hard, his headphones nearly fell off.

“I was hoping you would.”

‘The observable universe contains as many as 100 billion galaxies and extends billions of light years in every direction.’

“I had a feeling you would enjoy museums,” Yoshi continued, squatting down so he could be on the same level as the five-year-old. “And we have all day to explore the entire place if you’d like. It’s quite big.”

Donnie’s eyes widened a bit, as though it had just sunk in that there was more still to see.

“Don’t worry, my son. We can come back as many times as you’d like,” Yoshi assured. “And when we’re finished with this one, there are lots of others. Libraries, too. All sorts of things I think you’ll like. And we have plenty of time to see all of them.” 

‘What is the Universe? The universe is all the matter, energy, and space that exists. We can observe only a part of it— the observable universe. The entire universe, including the part we cannot see, may be infinite.’

Chapter Text

Okay, fine, he’d admit it. Dad was acting weird. 

Like, weird weird, not regular weird. Their dad had always been weird, which Leo had always chalked up to 1.) him being their dad 2.) him spending time in Hollywood. But this? This was off, even for him. 

Last night, he spaced out in the middle of one of Mikey’s stories, and Leo still wasn’t sure if he had literally fallen asleep with his eyes open or if he had just accidentally astral projected to the Twilight Zone or something. Of course, they had all then proceeded to say the most absolutely asinine, insane shit that they could think of in an attempt to goad a reaction until Mikey finally managed to snap him out of it by throwing some lentils at him. The day before that, he caught him rifling through that old shelf of weird knick-knacks that none of them were allowed to touch, muttering to himself the entire time like some crazy supervillain. Like, dude, had some ancient ninja ghost replaced their daddy, or what? ‘Cause this was getting freaky. He had kind of just thought Donnie was overreacting, but maybe he was onto something…

He hated it when Donnie was right. It happened annoyingly often and he could never admit it, lest he risk his twin’s ego becoming even larger. There’s only room for one egomaniac in this family.

“Think we can corner Dad on the train ride home and find out what’s happening? That way he won’t be able to run,” he said, casually, inviting himself into his twin brother’s room and tossing himself down on their bed.

 Donnie pulled his eyes away from whatever robotics project he was currently tinkering with in order to glare at his brother, spinning around in his desk chair.

 “Groan. Do we have to? That sounds unpleasant at best.”

 “Hey, you started this in the first place. And you agreed to the plan,” he countered, pointing accusingly at the other. “You don’t get to back out now.”

“I’m not saying that I’m not worried, or that I don’t think someone should talk with him. I’m just saying that I don’t want to do it,” Donnie defended.

“Bummer. You’re participating,” Leo deadpanned. “Between you, me, and Raph, we might have half a chance. And if not… Well. We’ve got the big guns waiting at home.”

 Donnie shuddered a bit. The Doctor.

 “I don’t know. Based on historical data, there’s about a 76.4% chance that Dad will attempt to bodily throw himself out the window of a moving train if we try to talk to him about his feelings.” 

 “Do you think we can find a train car without windows?”

 “I’ll do some research. I’m sure there are specs available online...” Donnie sighed, turning back around to face his desk and pulling out his phone.

 Leo hummed softly, knowing that Donnie would, in fact, actually do that, whether or not it was realistic.

“I’m serious, Donnie. We actually have to talk to him.”

“I mean, yeah, sure. I am too. But what the hell are we gonna say?”

“Ugh. I don’t know! You’re the one with a therapist! And you’ve been seeing her for how long now? Shouldn’t you know how to do all the talky-feely shit by now?”

“I’m autistic.”

“So?”

“You should get a therapist.”

“Off-topic,” Leo muttered, rolling his eyes. “This is, like, weirder than he usually is. Like… Something is for real wrong. It’s kind of spooky.”

“It’s Mikey.”

Leo scoffed. “It’s not Mikey.”

“Yeah, it is. He started being weird right after Mikey lit himself on fire.”

“Mikey didn’t light himself on fire, Dee.”

“Well, he clearly did something. And Dad keeps looking at him like he thinks he’s gonna combust at any moment. There’s a very clear pattern of behavior, Leo,” he insisted. “Also, you don’t know what the hell Mikey did, either, because we both know he wasn’t just playing with matches in his room.”

“He might have been,” Leo huffed. “That kid is way more fucked up than we give him credit for. Remember in the fourth grade when someone destroyed his science fair project?”

Donnie shivered. “You don’t just forget something like that, Leo.”

“Exactly! Playing with lighters is totally within the realm of possibility.”

“There’s a difference between enacting violent but justified revenge and doing simply dangerous stuff just for the fun of it,” Donnie countered, glancing up at the other through half-lidded eyes. “Plus, he’s used to all of us doing dangerous stuff for the fun of it! Dad wouldn’t react this way if he was just worried Mikey was gonna hurt himself. He deals with worrying Mikey is gonna hurt himself all the time. Nor would he let Mikey get away with this with nary a punishment if that were truly the case. In the very least, Dad doesn’t think the event was the result of Mikey just ‘playing with lighters.’”

“Oh, so what? It’s magic? His notebook magically caught on fire?” Leo challenged dryly, giving his twin an unimpressed look.

“Of course not. I’m a man of science,” Donnie scoffed. “I’m sure there’s a logical explanation, but, admittedly, I haven’t been able to intuit exactly what the cause was just yet. My investigation is still ongoing,” he sighed. “... But maybe Dad thinks it was?”

 Leo paused for a moment, rolling the thought around in his head, frowning a bit.

“You think Dad thinks Mikey magically caught his notebook on fire?” He questioned, raising one brow in doubt.

 “It’s possible,” Donnie said, shrugging. “We know that he’s superstitious.”

 Leo hummed softly, his hand automatically moving to spin the small silver bracelet on his wrist, running his fingertips across the smooth edges of the blue crystal in its center. One in a set of five. He supposed that that was technically true… ‘Superstitious’ wasn’t really the first word that would come to mind if he was trying to describe his father. It wouldn’t even be in the top ten. But slapping actual good-luck charms onto each of his children did kind of automatically sort him into that category, didn’t it?

 He knew his dad had a small altar in his room, and they would occasionally celebrate, or at least acknowledge, Japanese holidays that he had grown up with. But they didn’t have any other charms or amulets in their home, at least not that Leo knew of, just old knick-knacks and trinkets that lived on shelves or in closets. They had never gone to a shrine or temple or church or anything of the like in their lives, and he had never heard his Dad pray before. But the bracelets? He had always been really invested in that. Leo literally couldn’t remember a time when they hadn’t all worn them. He had told them since they were small that they ‘kept them safe,’ and it had been a hard rule their entire lives that they weren’t to be removed.

 It was the kind of thing that Leo was pretty sure people would think was weird if he brought it up-- so he usually didn’t. He used to think it was weird, too, honestly, and kind of dumb. I mean, they were just bracelets, right? So what did it matter? But he remembered the one time he had tried to take it off when he was around seven. Even now it was absolutely vivid in his brain every time he thought about it.

 He hadn’t been trying to rebel or make trouble or anything, he had just been bored. He forgot exactly where they were, but they were waiting in line for something at some building with lots of desks and people milling about, discussing boring things. And there wasn’t anything to do! He had exhausted all viable options for entertaining himself: Annoying his father. Annoying his brother. Annoying his other brother. Annoying his other other brother. So he had basically run out of ideas.

 He hadn’t even taken the bracelet off. I mean, not all the way. He was just messing with it, kind of yanking it up and down his wrist, and seeing if he could wiggle it up his hand over his knuckles--

 But god, he remembers the way his father’s voice sounded when he caught him, biting out his name like it was painful. He remembers the look on his face, and even now it makes him feel small.

 Not because his dad was angry. But because he was scared.  

 He had never seen his dad look that way before in his entire life. Like he was about to watch the entire world crumble down around him. 

 It was scary. His dad was scared, so he got scared, too. He shivers a little bit at the memory, his frown deepening. They had left shortly after, and Dad had assured him at least twenty times that he wasn’t mad, and he was sorry for scaring him, and it was okay, but that he couldn’t take the bracelet off. It was important.

 Leo and his brothers had kind of decided after that that it probably was important and that they really shouldn’t take them off. Leo wasn’t entirely sure if he completely believed now that they actually ‘kept them safe’ or whatever, but he had certainly believed it then. And besides that, clearly, their father believed it, and that alone was enough for him. It was too small to really get off now, anyway. They had grown enough that Leo doubted he could wriggle his way out of it even if he wanted to. It was a small miracle that Raph hadn’t busted his with how damn beefy he had grown, but hey, he wasn’t gonna look a gift horse in the mouth or anything.

 “Okay. Fine,” Leo conceded. “So, Dad thinks Mikey has magic hands, or whatever. What do we do about it?”

The train ride over to the swim meet was relatively calm, filled with idle chatter and conversation. Leo, Donnie, and Raph had met their Dad at the station after school, and they spent the trip discussing the new leaf Donnie's Monstera was growing, the most recent viral street magic video Leo had seen, and the latest funny thing Raph's swim kids had done. Raph attempted, unsuccessfully, to prod their Dad into sharing as well, but the most he got was information about the latest reality show episode he had watched. Their Dad wasn't always the biggest sharer, but usually, they could at least get him to discuss the state of his Dojos, any new acting prospects, or celebrity gossip. He loved celebrity gossip! But not today-- the conversation stayed squarely focused on his three sons.

 Still, it had been pleasant, even with the slight stirring of anxiety in Raph's stomach. They were all busy more often than they weren't, so it was always nice to get to spend any amount of time together. Their pops didn't always attend all their various sporting events, recitals, or other competitions-- it just wasn't realistic. There was only one of him, after all. But they were getting towards the end of the season at this point, which meant that all the 'important' events were beginning to crop up on their calendars. Their Dad hated to miss those-- even if they did go pretty much every year. He always said he wanted to ‘brag about how talented his children were.’

 The sports center was just a short walk from the train station, and Raph glanced down at their father as they made their way into the bustling lobby. "You know where you're goin', pops?"

 "Yes, yes, of course. I could give tours of this place," his father joked, his frame shaking with his laughter. "You boys know how to find me if you need me. Now, go and have fun. And also, kick some butt!" He encouraged with a toothy grin.

 "You got it, pops!" Raph assured, smiling wide in response, herding his two younger brothers off to the locker room. Usually, they'd come here with the rest of their team. Rather than traveling with their Dad, they'd travel with the other kids and their coach. But this was the city-wide meet. Qualifiers only-- which thinned out the crowd. Raph knew there were other competitors from the Mad Dogs Swim Team around here somewhere, but until they could hunt them down, it was just the three of them. Luckily, this was far from their first rodeo.

"Dibs on Candy Locker!" Leo yelled.

"Leo, no one else wants Candy Locker," Donnie said.

"Do not touch the Candy Locker!" Raph shouted.

They did this every year.

The infamous Candy Locker.

Raph, Leo, and Donnie had been competing in swim since they were eight and seven, respectively. And every year since then, all three of them had qualified for city-wide. And every year, city-wide was held at the Aquatics Pavilion at the Ithaca College campus. And every year that they came here, since they discovered it their very first time, the Candy Locker remained.

It was basically a historical landmark at this point, and Raph was continuously baffled that it still persevered. There were rows and rows of shiny slate gray lockers in the changing rooms, free for whatever visiting athlete to use while they competed, just big enough that you could fit a swim bag in there if you really put some muscle into it, all labeled and neat. Typically, you would open a locker without a padlock, and there would be one of two things there. One: someone else's clothes and bag. Someone already took this locker, but is playing it fast and loose and trusts no one will steal their shit. That's cool. Stealing ain't the Mad Dog way. Two: An empty locker. Sweet, free locker. You can shove your shit in there. But at the Aquatics Pavilion, there was also a third option.

 That option was a faded yellow pillowcase filled to the brim with about two pounds of Halloween candy. 

 The running theory was that someone had stashed it here ages ago, forgotten it, and it had just been there ever since, therefore transforming Locker 336 into ‘Candy Locker.’ Raph wasn't sure if the staff at the school truly just weren't aware of it, if they just didn't feel like dealing with it, or if they too respected it enough that they couldn't bring themselves to destroy it. All he knew was that Candy Locker was forever, and a fixture of the institution. 

 He also knew that every single year, without fail, Leo tried to sneak chocolate out of Candy Locker. 

"You can't use Candy Locker. Leo! It's not open for use! It's Candy Locker, and it needs to be treated with respect!" Raph yelled, giving a low groan of annoyance as Leo just barely glanced back at him, just for a moment, this absolutely feral look of excitement in his eyes, and darted off, breaking away from their small group. Dammit. 

All of Raph's little brothers were fast and small and nimble. Raph always felt a tiny bit awed when he watched how they moved-- weaving about obstacles like minnows swimming upstream, dancing and darting about in a way that always looked effortless. Raph was fast, too, and he was far more acrobatic than the average high schooler... Don't get it twisted, he was perfectly capable of back-flips and cartwheels. But small? Small he was not.

It was tough being a big guy sometimes. I mean, he didn't dislike it by any means! He loved being large enough that he could see over crowds and keep an eye on everything. He loved feeling strong and powerful enough that he could plant himself in between his family and any kind of danger, and feel like a wall-- an immovable object. He loved being strong, relished the rush of pinning his opponents to the ground beneath him without any effort and smashing his way through obstacles.

 ... But with size and strength comes responsibility. Wait, was that the quote? Something like that. The point was, if he ran after Leo, he'd mow half these kids down.  And he didn't wanna hurt anyone or anything. He knew better than that.

"Raphael."

Raph's father knelt down next to him, his voice gentle, but nudging, demanding to be heard. It took Raph a few moments, but eventually, he glanced up at him, peeking shyly at his father from behind his hand and uncurling from the small ball he was rolled into just the tiniest bit.

 "Raphael, did you hit Leonardo?"

 He hesitated for a moment, and then nodded a tiny bit, sniffling loudly.

 "And bite him?"

He nodded again, drawing his legs up to his chest and hiding his face in his knees.

 His father sighed softly. "Red, we cannot--"

 "He pushed me first!" He bit out, and he could feel his face burn even hotter than before, all muddy with shame and anger sloshed together. "H-he was being mean, and, and he wouldn't leave me alone! And I wanted him to stop!" 

"I will talk to him, Red. But just because he pushes you does not mean you can push back. Or hit him, or bite him. You are bigger than him, Raphael." This brought a fresh sob tumbling through Raph's chest, despite his best efforts. His father sighed again before slowly sitting down, holding out his arms.

 "Come here, my son." 

 Raphael rolled over onto his hands and knees, crawling into his dad's lap and burrowing his face into his chest. His dad's arms wrapped around him, squeezing him tight and rocking the two of them back and forth. And for a while, they just sat like that, quiet and still, hidden away in the hallway closet.

 "Is Leo okay?" Raph eventually mumbled, not picking up his head.

"He will be alright," Dad confirmed. "But you did hurt him quite a bit, Raphael."

"Sorry," he whispered. He wiped at his face with balled-up fists, hiccuping a few times. His mouth tasted salty, now, from the tears, but it still tasted bitter from the blood, too.

 "...You did a very good job coming to get me right away." 

 Raph hummed a tiny bit in response, but he didn't say anything beyond that. He wished he could fold himself up even tighter and hide. He wished he was so small he could fit in between the floorboards. He wished he could disappear.

 "You know, your gym teacher is very impressed with you, Red," Dad eventually began to speak again. "He told me all about how wonderfully you do whenever he sees you. You're bigger and stronger than the other kids in your class," he continued, and then laughed. "And I think that is very cool! And it makes me very proud to hear about how well you have done."

Raph finally dared to peek up at his father again, wiping some of the tears off his cheeks.

 "But I know it can be hard to be strong sometimes. It is a lot of work, being big and strong! You have to be careful with others around you, even if they're not careful with you back. That is very difficult!" He said, his hand moving in slow circles up and down his child's spine. "But I have seen you many, many times be big and strong to protect your brothers, and keep them safe, and to help them," he said, keeping quiet for a moment before exhaling slowly through his nose. "... Can I share a secret with you, Red?"

A secret? His eyes widened a bit, and he immediately nodded.

"I have been thinking that perhaps you boys might be ready to start learning proper martial arts at the dojo." Raph let out an audible gasp, his entire body perking up with excitement. Actual for real kung-fu and karate and stuff?! Not just blocks and poses!? "But I am a little worried that your brothers might hurt themselves, or fight with each other if I teach them." 

 Oh. Raph hadn't thought of that before. He frowned a bit, his brows suddenly pinched with worry. He hadn’t ever considered before that learning martial arts could actually be a bad idea. If he learned martial arts with his Dad, what if he just hurt his brothers worse? 

 "But I know how much you all want to learn. And I can already see how much potential you all have," he continued with a soft smile. "So I was hoping that you could help me. I don't like that you and Leo got into a fight, or that he got hurt... But now I know that you know what it feels like to hurt someone that you love. And that it doesn't feel very good, does it?"

 No... It felt horrible. He furrowed his brows, frowning before nodding a bit.

 "So I think that means that I can trust you to help me with teaching them how to be careful and strong at the same time, and keep them safe. Do you think you could handle that, Red?"

 Raphael swallowed hard, feeling this wet lump form in his throat. All the tears from before welled up in his eyes again-- even though he didn't wanna live in the floorboards anymore. His dad still trusted him that much? Even now, after he messed up really bad? He tried to tell his father 'yes,' but his lips were wobbling too much for his tongue to work right, so he just nodded as hard as he could instead. Yes. He wanted more than anything to help protect his little brothers, no matter what. ‘Cause even when they made him so, so angry... he still loved them so, so much.

 "I thought so," Dad laughed, kissing the top of his son's head before ruffling his hair lightly. "And I know we will not have any more fighting like this. And no more biting, Raphael. We have talked about this. If you want to bite something, I will get you something else that is for biting. But it cannot be people! Understood?"

 Hiccuping a bit, Raphael nodded again. Somehow, he wasn't even upset to be scolded this time. And he knew that he had said he wouldn't bite people before, but this time he really meant it.

 "Good boy. Now, I am going to go check on your brothers. Do you want to stay here a little bit longer, or do you want to come with me?"

 Raph took a long, deep breath, swallowing the lump in his throat so that he could find his voice again.

 "I wanna see my brothers."

 "GET BACK HERE, LEO. DON'T MAKE ME COME AFTER YOU," he shouted, and was completely ignored. "Donnie--"

"Not involved," Donnie immediately replied, not looking up from his phone. 

 Raph groaned, trying to pick up the pace without taking out any bystanders, muttering repeated, "Pardon me's," and "'Scuse me's," as he went.

 Leo really wasn't that far ahead of them-- He wouldn't completely ditch them, but he did get far enough ahead that he was already breaking into Candy Locker by the time Raph rounded the corner, his face set into a deep scowl.

 "Leo. Don't you dare." 

 "Look! Untouched and beautiful as ever!"

 "Leo, do not eat the candy."

"Wow, and they have all our favorites, too..."

 "They are at least eight years old! At a minimum, Leo!" 

 "Oh, pshhh. As if I haven't seen you wolf down two-week-old leftovers before," Leo scoffed.

 "Remember that time he ate beef jerky out of the trash?" Not helping, Donnie.

 "It was right on top! Practically untouched!" Raph protested. "And that's completely different! Plus, eight years is, like, twelve times longer than two weeks is!"

 "That math is not correct..." Donnie mumbled under his breath.

 "Chillax! I'm not gonna eat any of the candy," Leo said, holding his hands up in mock surrender.

 Oh, thank god.

 "I just wanna have one. To like... put on a shelf or something. I bet Donnie could make a little pedestal for it."

 Dammit.

 "One year," Raph said, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Just one year. I just want us to leave Candy Locker in peace... for one year . It's a sacred space, Leo!"

 "Mmmm..." Leo pursed his lips, placing a hand on his hip. "Yeah, I mean. I see what you're saying, but... I'm pretty sure no one is gonna miss, like, one Tootsie Pop."

 "Stop messing with him, Leo," Donnie chided, cracking open a locker nearby, tossing his bag down and shucking off his jacket.

 "Okay, okay. Fine. Because I'm an amazing brother, I will refrain from interacting any further with Candy Locker until after the meet," Leo declared, slapping the locker shut again with a flick of his wrist and a satisfying metallic clack. "But know this, Raphael. This isn't over." 

 Raphael scoffed, rolling his eyes, glaring at Leo as he yanked open his own locker. He loved his brothers dearly-- he did. But they were really lucky sometimes that he didn't just snap their necks.

At this point, Yoshi had a pretty good handle on these types of events, and he knew well enough how to navigate. He knew exactly which corner bounced cheers and shouts about the least, knew just where all the vents, pumping in warm air to prevent all the swimmers from freezing their butts off, were hidden, so they could be avoided, and knew the best seating arrangement that allowed for minimal soreness the following day. Metal bleachers weren’t exactly easy on your back, after all! Armed with years of experience, (plus his cellphone and earbuds for when events did not feature his sons and he got bored,) he was fully committed to making it through the meet and focusing for the entirety of it. Had he made any progress on the whole Hamato Ninpo thing? Well, no, not exactly. Which was. Ah. Worrisome. But, now was not the time for that!

He was quite excited to watch his three eldest sons kick ass and take names, as per usual. 

He said 'hello' to a few of the other parents that he knew and made some polite small talk, settling down to watch the meet. Warm-ups were already done by the time he was all seated, and he could see his boys and the rest of their team from where they sat across the pool; audience members sat on one side, and competitors on the other. He watched them doing much of the same-- making conversation with each other and their teammates, checking their phones, and cheering whenever anyone they knew was in the water. 

 All in all, everything was fairly normal and expected. Yoshi still struggled a bit to keep himself focused, and not think too deeply about all the worries in his head, but it wasn't as bad as it had been lately... It had been nearly a week now with no further incidents, no questioning from his children, and no spooky prophecies or visions from his ancestors or anything like that. So he was beginning to wonder, or perhaps more accurately, hope that maybe it had just been a fluke. Just a one-off event rather than the beginning of anything trying. Maybe his family was fine, their identity and secrets were safe, and nothing further was going to occur to jeopardize that-- they could just continue to live in peace just as they had been.

 He watched the twins get up from the bench for their next event, shedding their hoodies and towels in favor of goggles, only to get waved over by an official. The two wandered over and joined him and what appeared to be another parent. He couldn't hear what they were saying from where he was, but the conversation soon became animated-- Donnie's arms crossed over his chest, Leo talking wildly with his hands, and worry immediately began to blossom in his chest. He had just gotten to his feet, beginning to make his way over to the group when the discussion seemed to dissolve, his two sons walking away visibly upset. Yoshi met them halfway. 

 "What is going on?" He immediately questioned, his brows knit together, forming wrinkled creases in his skin. He could see Raphael straining to see from his side of the pool, a similar expression on his own face.

 "Ugh. It's nothing," Leo huffed, a scowl set on his face, his hands on his hips. "Some Karen or whatever is just mad that we're gonna ruin her kid's record or whatever, so she talked the officials into drug testing us."

 "Which is obviously a complete waste of time and resources," Donnie added in, rolling his eyes.

 "She's just gonna embarrass herself when it comes back negative. As if we need any steroids to clean up shop," Leo declared, a small, sly grin growing on his face, offering out a hand to high-five his brother like, ‘sick burn, right, Dee?'

 His brother accepted, slapping his palm firmly. "Indeed."

 Yoshi had broken out into a cold sweat, feeling as though his entire body had turned into stone, freezing him in place.

 "O-oh. A drug test. Yes, how silly..." He mumbled, forcing a grin on his face. "How. Uh. How exactly... Does that work? Is it going to take long? I would hate for the, uh, the meet to be held up...!"

 "No, they're just doing a rapid test," Donnie hummed. "Obviously it's going to be a smaller panel than they could achieve with a proper lab test, and not achieve quite as accurate or varied of a data set, but it should only take five minutes or so. I understand they're fetching the technician now, and then it should be as simple as collecting a urine sample to use. It can only reveal a 'negative' or 'positive' result rather than any more detailed variations or anything of the like, but of course, this isn't a concern for us, since we already know neither of us is using any drugs. It's actually a very fascinating process--"

 Yoshi wasn't listening anymore, because all he could hear in his ears was his own voice screaming TURTLE PISS TURTLE PISS TURTLE PISS.

  Logically, the test did not have the capacity to give such information. Donatello had just said that there were only two possible test results, positive or negative, and his purplest son usually knew what he was talking about regarding such things. So, reasonably, he knew it could not possibly come back ‘Mutant Turtle.' And rationally, he knew that his family had been under further scrutiny in the past and come out on the other side just fine. This did not ease his panic. It never did. 

Insurance cards? Check. Paperwork? Check. All four children? Check. He went over his list for the fifth time in his head, glancing down at his kids, two on either side of him, as they approached the office. Right... Yes. He had everything he needed. 

 So why didn't he feel even the least bit prepared?

 He had gone to such lengths to ensure the success of this plan. He had accounted for every document that would need to be forged, had crafted an elaborate story to explain his disappearance, and had paid dearly for the five bracelets that concealed his and his sons' mutant identities. He prepared for every possible threat to their new identities and did everything he could to allow the success of their new lives.

 It wasn't like he didn't account for this. He knew that it would be an obstacle, and he knew that it would be one that they would have to face. That didn't stop it from being terrifying.

 The doctor.

 Despite all the paperwork he had fabricated, he knew that they wouldn't be able to avoid going to the doctor forever. Even if he falsified records indicating his sons were up to date on absolutely everything and in perfect health, this would only buy them a year or two before they would be due for a visit, or risk being barred from enrollment in public school. And even if he somehow avoided this, too, what if one of his children got sick? Or injured? Was he to simply keep them at home and deny them medical care? 

 No, no. He wanted his kids to have a normal life. He wanted them to be able to do things like go to school and play in parks and make friends with other children... and have proper medical care when it was needed. He wanted them to be vaccinated, to be screened for problems, to have regular check-ups, and be able to go to the hospital when they were hurt. He desperately wanted this.

 But jesus christ, this was terrifying.

 "Are you ready?" He asked, glancing down at his children once more. He was trying to keep his voice level and his body language calm, but he could tell that his sons could sense his anxiety. His heart broke a little when four pairs of big, horrified eyes looked up at him and they shook their heads.

 "Ah, where are my brave boys?" He questioned, nudging them ever so slightly, beginning the walk into the office. He held Mikey and Donnie's hands tightly so that they wouldn't be able to tell he was shaking. "Do not worry. I promise that Dr. Davis is very nice. Nothing bad will happen," he assured.

 The boys didn't seem too convinced. He wasn't either, truthfully, but he marched them inside anyway.

 It had been over a decade since he had last been inside a doctor's office, and even longer than that since he had been to a pediatrician. Yet somehow, it felt like nothing had really changed. Colorful wires with wooden beads strung on them stuck out from a brightly-painted table in the middle of the room, in sharp contrast to the faded burgundy chairs lined along the walls. Children's books and Highlight magazines covered every available surface, which Donnie immediately took to reading. There were a few other parents with their children as well, but the Hamatos were in no mood to socialize. After speaking to the woman at the front desk, Yoshi got to work filling out a literal stack of papers. He was so nervous, he messed up at least three different forms and had to sheepishly request new copies.

 And then they waited.

 The longer they sat, the more the collective anxiety seemed to mount. Yoshi couldn't help the scenarios running through his mind over and over, each one ending with a doctor or nurse shrieking in horror and calling Animal Control--

 "Dad." 

 Yoshi blinked back into reality, looking down at his youngest son, pulling at his sleeve with tears in his eyes.

 "Dad, I wanna go home," Mikey whispered, leaning in close to him and sniffling a bit. "I don't wanna see the doctor." 

 Quite frankly, Yoshi was inclined to agree with his kid, to pick them all up and walk out right this very minute. But he suppressed the urge. 

 "I know, Mikey. I do not like seeing the doctor either," he admitted, scooping up the preschooler to hold in his lap. "But I promise... Dr. Davis is very nice, and, ah, I will not let them do anything bad to you... I am sure everything will be fine...!" 

 Before he could continue his, quite frankly, horrible pep talk, a nurse poked her head into the room from the back. 

 "The Hamatos?" 

  "Yo. Dad. You good?"

 Yoshi paused for a moment before he returned properly back to the present day, glancing over at his sons and giving a nervous laugh, which then dissolved into a cough. 

 "Ah! Yes, of course! I am perfectly fine! Why wouldn't I be!" He wheezed, and his sons exchanged looks.

 "Papa, honestly, it's fine. This will take ten minutes tops, and again, I assure you that neither Leo nor myself are engaging in any kind of recreational substances," Donnie said.

 "Yeah! All we gotta do is piss in a cup," Leo added in. "And then we'll be all set. It's just annoying. Here, why don't you sit down, watch some Netflix or something-- I know you like Netflix-- and we'll be back in a bit, okay? Just chill." 

 "Right. Of course. I am... very chill," Yoshi insisted, even though he could feel his hands trembling a bit. Gah! Stupid traitor hands! Stop it! 

 "Surrreeee," Donnie said, taking him by the arm and slowly leading him back to the bleachers, sitting him down and patting his shoulder. "We'll be right back, alright? Nothing to worry about." 

"Alright, you should be all set," Dr. Davis hummed pleasantly, offering a gentle smile to her latest anxious parent. "Everyone looks great! Healthy weights, nothing scary going on... We'll send you home with some literature and referral information for Donatello. I would recommend considering getting in contact with them if you can, especially since he's gonna be starting school soon, but beyond that everything looks fantastic." 

 "Yes-- thank you," Yoshi said, forcing a smile, shakily accepting the new stack of papers that the doctor handed over.

 Nothing had gone wrong.

 Well, a few things had gone wrong. Mikey and Raphael had both cried when they got their shots. Donnie had a small meltdown after being repeatedly touched by people he didn't like. And Leo had punched a nurse in the gut for upsetting his brothers. 

 But their bill of health came back clean. No mentions of turtles, mutations, cold-bloodedness, or reptilian features of any kind.

 They made it through. They would be okay.

 "... And we'll see you back in about five weeks for their next booster series, okay? Jacklyn up front can get you all scheduled!"

 Yoshi pursed his lips slightly, his mouth suddenly feeling rather dry.

 "... Ah. Yes. Of course." 

The concept of buoyancy was built upon that of displacement; the idea that two different forms of matter could not occupy the same space. Archimedes once theorized that water, a liquid, would be pushed aside by a solid mass, but an object of an appropriate weight, density, or shape could ensure that the displaced weight of the water was greater than the total weight of the object, therefore ensuring it to float. This is, of course, connected to the concept of forces. Gravity is a downward force that acts upon all objects; when an object is placed in a fluid, that fluid must supply a force equal in magnitude but opposite in direction to the gravitational force for the object to float. Scientifically speaking, it was all a matter of density and mass, and every action that one took in the water, as well as every action that the water had in response, could be explained through a series of formulas and equations.

 ... In a non-scientific sense, however, water was safe and soft and inviting. Water would make room for you, no matter who you were or what you were doing. Once you got in, it would change itself to make exactly enough space for your body. Water was fluid and changing, soft and gentle when you moved softly, hard and firm when you moved harshly. In the water, the way you move changes. The way you see and hear changes. Perception itself shifts.

 God, Donatello loved swimming.

 Even just swimming laps was great, but a race only heightened the experience, engaging every bit of his body and mind and encouraging him to push. From the moment the buzzer went off and he dived from the starting block, (push off with your legs, you're going for distance, not for height, hands together, smooth entry point,) to the lap down, (head down, no breathing except for when you absolutely need to, arms go back and glide over the water-- imagine your fingertips skimming just over the surface, no unnecessary movement, just enough for the maximum propulsion forward with minimal effort,), the turn at the wall, (watch the floor, see the blue tile end and the white begin-- you know the math, count it out, at five you duck, chin to your chest, arms together, don't cross your ankles, kick off the wall and get as much air off that sucker as you can,) and the sprint back, (kick from your hips, not your knees, no reserving energy, it's just a fifty, this is a ‘dash,’ so dash--)

 Every second of it he was engaged, and every second of it he adored the experience. He didn't even slow down when he approached the wall, ramming into it at full speed and using his outstretched hands to stop himself and trigger the timer that stopped the clock. They didn't have to worry about slowing down. They wouldn't run into anything. Their own hands and the water would catch them. 

 Sucking in ragged breaths, he looked to his left, and then he looked to his right. Leo was right behind him, but as he glanced up at the display board on the wall to check his time, he grinned widely. He had more than a five-second lead over him. More than enough to qualify for Regionals-- not that he had been worried. Leo was well within the range as well, just as expected. The three of them always went to Regionals. And Donnie was quite pleased to note that the kid from Lane 4, the child, he and Leo had deduced, of the woman who demanded they be tested, was significantly behind the two of them. Sure, his time was good enough to qualify for Regionals, too...

 But it wasn't anywhere near as good as theirs. Haha. Suck it.

 One by one, all of the racers joined him at the end of the lane, bobbing about in the water and holding onto the pool edge or the lane lines, everyone out of breath and filled with adrenaline. He shook the hands of his two lane neighbors, congratulating both of them on a race well run, and once the referee blew his whistle, he clambered out of the water, hoisting himself up back onto dry land and moving to rejoin his twin.

 "Killed it," Leo said, though breathlessly, ("if you're not struggling to breathe by the end of a race, you're not doing it right," their coach often said,) offering a fistbump, which Donnie reciprocated.

 "As expected," he replied, grinning wide as the two of them made their way back to the bleachers. 

 "Leo! Donnie! Nice!" Raph called as they approached, tossing them each a towel to wrap around themselves, each beginning to dry themselves off, peeling goggles and swim caps off their heads. "Good time! But, uh, what was with the--?"

 "Some lady made us do a drug test," Leo explained, waving a hand as if to dismiss Raph's concerns. "It was dumb, we both passed, it's all good now. Just annoying."

 "A drug test?! Seriously?!" Raph said, scoffing loudly. And admittedly, Raphala was no stranger to similar situations. Donnie recalled he had been accused of taking steroids or faking his age more than once in his various sporting exploits, but it typically wasn't taken as far as to actually test him. Donnie thought, vaguely, that he was almost surprised that Raph wasn't subject to the same treatment as he and Leo were today, but he supposed it did make at least a bit of sense. Raph was big-- he was tall and visibly muscular and powerful. People looked at him and expected him to excel in athletics.

 He and Leo? Not so much. Leo was only 5'5", and he himself barely passed 5'3" without his boots, much to his annoyance. They were both lean and appeared athletically inclined, sure, but they were both much smaller and slimmer than their older brother was. People looked at them and were often surprised by their respective sporting resumes. Especially him.

 "Yes, yes, it was an unfortunate waste of everyone's time," Donnie agreed. "But to no one's surprise, it came back completely spotless, and we were able to proceed without issue and completely destroy absolutely everyone, in your face Karen, thank you very much."

 "Is that why Dad's been freaking out?" Raph asked after a moment, raising a brow. Donnie followed his eyes to steal a glance over at their father on the other side of the pool, looking much better than he had before they received their test results, (both he and Leo offering him thumbs up from across the way once they had been cleared, and watching him sag with relief,) but still seemed a bit shaky.

 "Yeah," Leo said, wrinkling his nose. "I thought he was gonna pass out for a second there when we told him. He was sweating so much, it was disgusting."

 "He doesn't seriously think you guys' would come back positive or anything, does he?" Raph scoffed, frowning a bit, and Leo shook his head.

 "Nah, I don't think so. But you know how scared he is of doctors." 

 Dad always got like this whenever they had an appointment.

 'This' meaning, of course, 'visibly and overwhelmingly anxious and frightened, absolutely filled with dread and horror.' 

 They were all kind of used to it by now.

 When they were little, it would sort of freak them out, because every time they had to go to the doctor, he had to come with them, and he'd be in a state of near-panic the whole time. And if Dad was freaking out, then they should probably be freaking out too, right? Looking back, Leo recognized that he was always trying to hide it, but quite frankly, he did a pretty shit job at it. Now that they had gotten a bit older, however, collectively exiting elementary school years to enter junior high, they more-or-less recognized that Dad's doctor-induced panic was really more of a personal thing, and not necessarily something that they needed to worry about themselves. Leo still didn't really like the doctor, and he kind of doubted he ever would, but he wouldn't really categorize himself as 'afraid' any longer.

 Their Dad? Not so much. 

 The four of them had been long aware of the little note on the calendar in the kitchen, the sacred piece of literature that controlled all their lives, dictating that at four o'clock on this date, their dear father would be summoned to the doctor's office. And they knew that, of course, like he did every time, he would totally freak out. And, just as predicted, he had been an anxious mess all day, pacing around the house, mumbling nonsense to himself, (something about them being ‘onto him’ and ‘rat blood’ and other completely meaningless jibber-jabber.) 

 But this time, they had a plan. They absolutely could not continue to watch him like this. Everyone was in place. Leo looked across the living room, nodding to Raph. Raph glanced at Donnie, who checked his watch, and likewise nodded an affirmative. Mikey put down his sketchbook, getting to his feet, and the four of them, following his cue, fell into step with each other and filed into the kitchen.

 Mission: Save Daddy From the Horrors was a go.

 "Hey Dad," Mikey began, wrapping an arm around his shoulder and leaning into him slightly. Raph, at the same time, got to work preparing a pot of tea-- Donnie fetched the cream, Leo was on sugar duty. "So, we were thinking. Maybe we could come with you this afternoon?"

 Their father startled slightly, immediately moving to glare at Mikey with suspicious eyes. "What?! Come with me? Why would you want to come with me to a doctor's appointment?"

"Well, we were just thinking, it might be a nice, uh... family outing!" Raphael offered with a shrug, chuckling nervously and looking to the side. "And maybe we could, I dunno, get frozen yogurt on the way back?"

 "And we could watch that game show you like on the way over. With the mystery shrimp?" Donnie suggested. 

 "Plus, I mean, I've been meaning to get some acting tips from you? Not that I need them, obviously, but..." Leo added, placing a teacup into his father's hands as he narrowed his eyes. 

 "... You boys are... up to something..." Dad mumbled, looking between the four of them with a slight frown. 

 "Up to something? No! Of course not!" Raph insisted, and Mikey placed a hand on their father's shoulder.

 "We just want to spend more quality time with you! As a family! Don't you want to spend time with us, your loving sons?" He questioned, batting his eyes. "Plus, we can get frozen yogurt! We know how much you love frozen yogurt, right?" 

 "Yeah, what they said," Donnie said. 

 "Pleaseeeee?" Leo went in for the kill, offering a dramatic pout, poking his lower lip out as far as it could possibly go. Mikey joined in shortly, combining their powers to reach near-dangerous levels of puppy-dog-eyes.

 "... I suppose... If you really would like to..."

  Score. They were in. Goal: minimize anxiety and get their dad home from the doctor's office in one piece for a change. And if they got some frozen yogurt in the process? What was the harm in that? As far as Leo was concerned, so long as they could manage to get their Dad through this appointment without totally freaking out, that'd be a win. And, if things went well, it would be that much easier to convince him to allow them to accompany him to future appointments, too. 

The rest of the swim meet went about as expected. Donnie easily got the best times in every event he participated in, and all three of them, plus a couple of their teammates, made it into the upcoming Regionals. Trophies and ribbons were given out in the end, which they had all immediately passed on to their father, ‘cause he was more excited about them than they were and would surely figure out a way to find space for at least some of them at home. Raph physically wrestled an ancient Twix bar out of Leo's hands, and once his little brother finally cried for mercy and swore to leave Candy Locker alone for the remainder of the trip, he unpinned him from the ground and allowed him to get back up. Normal stuff. 

 It wasn't until the train ride home that things got kind of weird. 

 About fifteen minutes in Leo started giving him these looks. Looks that said, 'go on, say something.' So Raph started giving Leo 'no, you say something' looks. After some back and forth, they both tried to give Donnie looks, but Donnie completely ignored them in every sense of the word, pointedly refusing to look up from his phone as he discussed the process of coding artificial intelligence to their dad, who clearly didn't understand anything they were saying, but to his credit, was doing his best to nod along. 

After losing a silent game of rock-paper-scissors played at knee-level, just outside of their father's field of vision, Raph cleared his throat, leaning over slightly.

"Sooo, Pops... You been... sleeping okay?"

"Hm? Oh, yes! You know I am always out like a light after my before-bed snack!" Dad replied easily with a chuckle, and Raph frowned, ‘cause he could tell just by looking at him that that was a lie.

"Uh-huh. Right," Leo scoffed, not buying it. "That's crazy. Because, no offense, but you look kind of like garbage. And like you haven't so much as touched a pillow in, like... ever." 

 This immediately earned him a smack to his forehead.

 "Garbage?! I will have you know that I was voted Hollywood's ‘Sexiest Action Film Star’ five years in a row! No respect!"

 Leo whined loudly, rubbing his forehead and mumbling "ew," under his breath, but Raph knew it was all for show. Dad's infamous ‘Karate Chops’ never actually hurt. Though it could be that Leo was more hurting from the psychological damage of hearing their father refer to himself as ‘sexy’ than anything else...

"I concur-- ew. And as fascinating as this factoid that you've cursed us with is, father, it doesn't really address the fact that you've clearly not been sleeping," Donnie remarked, still not looking up from his phone screen. Raph knew he was listening, though. He wasn't typing, no video was playing. He was fully engaged with the conversation. Just needed his barrier.

 "Yeah, if anyone is qualified to identify an insomniac, it's me!" Leo added in.

 "What we're trying to say is," Raph jumped in, hands held out and a nervous smile on his face, "Is just, uh. That we're a little worried about you, Pops. I mean. You've seemed kind of, uh, out of it... since..."

 "Since that thing with Mikey," Leo helpfully supplied, crossing his arms over his chest. 

 Raph noted the slight twitch in his Dad's left eye. 

 "What thing with Mikey?" Dad feigned.

 "Uh, the thing where he started a fire in his room? That thing? Ringing any bells?" Leo pressed, with a tone and a look that said 'yeah, nice try.'

"Oh, yes. That," their dad said, waving a hand dismissively. "We have already discussed this, boys. The important thing is that Mikey was not hurt, and Purple, I know you are upset because you are not allowed to start fires anymore--"

"It's not about Mikey, Dad," Raph interjected. "It's about you! You've just... you've been acting... weird! And it's been nearly a week now! And-- and if something's goin' on, we wanna know!"

 "Nothing is going on," Dad immediately denied. "I already told you all. That was simply a freak accident, and it is not anything worth worrying about. I am fine! It is nothing you need to concern yourselves with."

"Dad, come on. There's obviously something bothering you!" Raph pushed a little harder, despite the anxiety bubbling up in his stomach, feeling like a soda can in a washing machine. "We just wanna help. Come on, don't you trust us--"

 "Enough." This time it was Dad who interrupted, his voice harder now, firm and definite. Raph flinched slightly. "I already said it is none of your concern. I am fine. I am perfectly capable of handling this, and I do not want any of you involved!"

 Raph opened his mouth like he was going to say something, but was surprised to find that there were no words. So he closed it again. He glanced over at Leo and Donnie, but they had about the same expressions on their faces as him. 

 "Please, Red," he heard the sigh in his dad's voice, and he sounded softer now, tired even, and placed a hand on Raph’s shoulder. Raph glanced downwards, his eyes following all the knobs in his father’s fingers, the wrinkles in his knuckles. He didn't want to look at his face, because he knew that if he did, he would see him as an elderly man rather than Dad. He hated it when that happened, when he fell into that headspace... Just seeing people as people, just looking at them for exactly what they were, with all the familiarity and memories stripped away from them. "Just let me take care of this. I have everything under control." 

Raph frowned a bit, not entirely sure if he believed him.

 "We have a good life, Raphael. I need you to let me keep it that way," he said. "And to trust me enough not to get involved. Please."

 He didn't look at Leo or Donnie this time. Something in his gut was screaming at him that this wasn't the move. The words Dad was picking here felt... off. But the way his voice sounded... He swallowed thickly, and then slowly nodded. 

 "Yeah. Okay, Dad. We trust you."

Far beneath the city, below the concrete, below the subways, below even the sewers, the world eventually became city again-- Hidden below the oblivious humans above. At the edge of this city, a small vine grew from the soil, slow and silent, just at the seam of a brick wall. Ever-so-carefully, the vine grew and expanded, pushing itself upward, dark and veiled in violet veins. 

 The vine pressed itself up against the stone wall, curling unnaturally upward, and a bit of stone cracked in response, falling away to the soil below.

 The vine pushed further.

Chapter Text

It had been ten years since Baron Draxum had walked freely on the earth.

Ten years since he had been imprisoned for his so-called ‘crimes against nature,’ wrongfully punished for his desire to protect Yokai-kind. He gave his life to the survival of their people, and this was the thanks he received?! This was how they repaid him!? The fools were too blinded by their bleeding hearts to see the truth right in front of their eyes… To see the necessity of his plans.

And then they thought that they could be rid of him? Thought they could lock him up!? Imbeciles! There wasn’t a prison on earth that could hold Baron Draxum!

 … Okay, so, admittedly, this one had, in fact, held him for ten years. Which was pretty good. And kind of a lot more time than he had initially been planning for. 

But no longer!!!

It had simply been a matter of time. Though his mystical abilities were suppressed by the enchantments of his prison, there was not a force on earth that could eliminate his abilities. Of this he was certain. All he had needed was time… Time to adjust and learn the bonds surrounding him. Learn enough so that he could creep around them. He had been practicing for years now, slowly training himself how to summon his powers even beyond the limitations enforced upon him. It had been slow, difficult work. But he was nothing if not determined.

 He meditated until he could feel the earth. And he pushed forward until he could feel the seeds within the earth. He learned to reach out to them all over again, and how to speak to them, even through the hellish screaming of the spells that imprisoned him. And once he could speak to them… He could command them once more.

It was a slow, steady process, summoning vines, little by little, to carve an escape for him through the ground. His connection was faint-- he might even dare call it weak, which was a word he would very rarely attribute to himself. It had taken weeks to will a tunnel to freedom, slowly burrowing beneath the earth, and out to the world beyond. It took him even longer to chip through the concrete and stone that held him here.

 But in time, he managed it. 

 And when he walked outside of his cage for the first time in a decade, strolling easily beneath the walls that were meant to keep him inside, his power returning to him was like the impact of a train, ripping through his very soul, screaming through his veins and twisting his nerves. He felt the rust in the gears, and he felt the exhaustion that crept inside of him, too, having been separated from his mystical abilities for so long… but as compared to the absolute nothingness he felt only moments before? It was like a cyclone to a butterfly’s wingbeat. It was dizzying. It was divine.

He had never missed anything more. Breathing in fresh air, walking into the open and seeing no walls to hold him, Baron Draxum threw back his head and laughed. 

 Ten years. Ten years, yes. But not another day more.

 A near-giddy grin curled open his lips, he squared his shoulders, thin vines blossoming around him by the dozen, curling like snakes. 

 It was high time he finished what he started.

“Sooo,” Mikey hummed, leaning over slightly, his toes tapping impatiently against the floor. “How’d it go?”

Okay, fine. So he was a little impatient to hear about the swim meet! He still couldn’t believe they had gone a whole chapter without him! As if those little mentions in flashbacks and stuff actually counted. And then they all got home exhausted and immediately went to sulk in their own rooms instead of giving him the run-down! Who does that?! Quite frankly, Mikey had already exercised an enormous amount of restraint in holding his tongue this long-- even if it was only until the following morning.

“Bad,” Donnie immediately responded. “Raph beefed it.”

“Wha-- Hey! Raph did not beef it!” His older brother immediately spluttered out a protest, his face flushing red as he bristled. “It went fine! ‘Sides, I didn’t see either of you offering any support, so keep your comments to yourself, thanks!”

“Is this the swim meet thing?” April questioned, shifting slightly in her seat to counteract the back-and-forth sway of the rattling subway, providing a constant chugging soundtrack to their conversation.

 “Yeah, and he didn’t tell us anything at all!” Leo groaned, tilting his head back to thunk against the subway wall, the loose curls of his bleach-blonde hair bunching up behind him. “It was a total bust. And Raph let him get away with it.”

“Look, he said it was fine! He said it was nothing and to let him handle it! So we’re letting him handle it! I dunno what else you want me to do!” Raph protested, throwing his arms up. “You really want me to argue with him?! When he’s givin’ me eyes like that!?”

“Yeah, but he was obviously lying,” Donnie muttered. “He’s talking to himself now, you know. Like, more than normal. In his room. I overheard him last night. He was having a full-on conversation.”

“Maybe he was on the phone?” April suggested, raising a brow.

“At one in the morning?” Donnie scoffed.

“I dunno. Time zones?” April shrugged. “He’s from Japan. Maybe it was an overseas call.”

“If it was, it’d be the first,” Mikey remarked, frowning a bit. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard him talk to, like… anyone that he knew from Japan. Or even talked about them.”

“You know how much he hates to talk about himself and his past and all that,” Leo muttered, making a face. “He never tells us anything! It’s all just one big secret with him! Wrapped up with even more secrets, and layered with secrets!”

“Honestly, I don’t know how he can sit there and lie to us and refuse to tell us anything about himself, and then ask us to trust him,” Donnie muttered under his breath, his brows furrowed and his lips curved into a sharp frown.

 Mikey faltered for a moment, his expression pinching before he forced a half-smile.

“Hey, come on. Just because he’s private doesn’t mean we shouldn’t trust him. He’s our Dad! He loves us!” Mikey pressed, nudging his brother a bit, who scoffed and rolled his eyes in response.

 “Yeah-- exactly what Mikey said!” Raph likewise defended, his shoulders set and angry. “Dad doesn’t have ta’ tell us nothin’ he doesn’t want to, okay? If he doesn’t wanna talk about it, he doesn’t wanna talk about it! He hasn’t steered us wrong yet, so there’s no reason to stop trustin’ him!”

“Everyone needs to chill, for real,” April interrupted, waving her hands at her younger brothers as if trying to physically tamp down their energy. “Look, I’m sure Yosh has a good reason for acting all crazy. He usually does! Usually.”

The group stayed quiet for a bit before finally Leo huffed. 

“I just wish he trusted us more. That’s all.” 

This didn’t really do much to alleviate the silence that had settled, and Mikey winced, hesitating a moment before speaking up again.

“Look, you know Dad really values his privacy. And that it’s complicated, and stuff.” Or so they’d been told. ‘It’s complicated,’ was a frequent response to questions. “But if Dad doesn’t want us to know, it’s probably for a good reason!” 

Even Mikey had to admit that their dad’s secrecy could be frustrating at times. He wished he could know more about his past and their early childhood as much as his brothers did, but it wasn’t like they could force him to tell them anything he wasn’t ready to talk about. Doctor Feelings had tried to broach the topic plenty of times, but it was pretty clear that that was a hard boundary for him.

“Look. We’ll… keep an eye on it, alright?” Raph said, rubbing the back of his neck. “But I don’t wanna bother Dad about it any more than we already have. So can you guys please just be cool?”

“Be cool? How can you just brush this off and tell us to ‘be cool--?’”

Mikey winced, sinking back into his seat, drawing his arms into his sleeves to hug himself and tuck his chin down, focusing on tuning the rest of his family out for a bit. He hated it when they argued. Like, for real argued, not just bickering over what the best Jupiter Jim movie was. 

… This was his fault, wasn’t it?

 He frowned, his brows furrowing and his muscles tensing a bit. He knew exactly what his therapist would say. He knew what Doctor Feelings would say. That it wasn't his fault. That he hadn't done anything wrong. That the events leading to this had been out of his control. Blah blah blah. But it was way easier to say that kind of stuff than to feel it. Playing Doctor Feelings at his siblings was one thing, trying to do it to himself was an entirely different ballgame. And the fact of the matter was that things hadn't gotten weird until he started that fire. Even if he didn't mean to. Even if he still had no idea how in the world that had happened. That was, without question, what had started this whole thing, and it was absolutely eating him alive. He hadn’t had a good night's sleep since. He still couldn’t manage to recreate any of those sketches that he lost.

 He had spent hours upon hours replaying that night in his head, trying to figure out what went wrong, but every single time he came up blank with nothing to show for his efforts but a great big lump in his throat. It was scary, not knowing what happened, not understanding why it had happened, and not knowing if it was gonna happen again. Dad said it was a 'freak accident.' Freak accidents don’t just happen to people twice, right? Usually, they don’t even happen once! So surely he had hit his quota? He knew Donnie would tell him that ‘statistics don’t work like that,’ but, what were the odds, really?  Sometimes weird things happen, sure, but this wasn't some sci-fi movie or fantasy novel.

 He just wished he actually believed himself when he said stuff like that.

 Usually, Mikey really enjoyed being left home alone. It was thrilling, getting the house all to himself for once, as opposed to its usually bustling state, having the freedom to call his own shots and mess around without supervision. But last night, he had been an absolute wreck. Thank God for April, who stayed with him the whole night, right up until their family got home, watching cooking shows on loop and offering reassurances.

 “It’ll be fine, Mikey! I know they’re not exactly on your level, but the guys have got this handled. Nothing bad is gonna happen.”

“But what if it does?” He had repeatedly protested, fighting off the urge to tear up. “What if they fight? What if something really important happens and I miss it?! What if they need my help!”

 What if they talk about it and they all agree that this is my fault? He hadn’t said that one out loud. Mikey had always disliked swimming, finding the experience overwhelming and unpleasant. He wasn’t graceful in the water like his brothers-- he had always been clumsy and off-kilter, struggling to keep up and hating every second of it. But last night, he had wished so desperately that he was on the swim team with them.

 He just had this gut feeling that this wasn’t as simple as a ‘freak accident.’ Like it wasn’t something they could just forget about. He knew that Donnie would say that ‘the concept of intuition has no scientific backing,’ but he just couldn’t shake it. It held onto his legs like dead weight, dragging behind him through each moment of each day, demanding his attention, demanding space in his brain. What if it happened again? What if it was worse next time? 

He wished he could talk to his brothers about it, but they didn’t even believe him in the first place. Donnie and Leo were convinced he was playing with lighters, having made it perfectly clear that they didn’t see much credibility in his story, and Raph wouldn’t stop texting him WebMD articles about the dangers of smoking, which, quite frankly, was really starting to piss him off.

 ... At least Dad believed him. Kinda… Well, it wasn't that Dad believed him, per se. But he didn't... Not believe him, either. 

He believed him enough to be worried about him. Believed him enough to comfort him and tell him it would be okay.

He sighed very softly through his nose, smiling the teeniest, tiniest bit at the thought. Yeah. 

He did still trust their dad. 

His brothers would come around, surely. He just had to… be patient. Just for a little longer…

April loved all her little brothers equally, but it was no secret that she and Donnie were basically besties. They were just too lame for her not to develop a soft spot for them, and the two of them regularly spent hours together studying, watching stupid conspiracy videos online, or just talking about whatever random thing was on their minds recently. Despite how fucking annoying they were, they were fun to hang out with, so they did often-- including every fourth period during school.

Now, April was a grade above Donnie, so they didn't actually have any classes together. In fact, Donnie had very few classes with any of them, beyond maybe one or two with Leo. That was because Donnie is smart. Like… stupid smart. They had a rule about not acknowledging it any more than twice a week at the very most because they were already way too aware of it, but it was the fact of the matter and none of them could deny it, even if they could all also agree that Donnie was an idiot. If he wanted to, April was pretty sure he could be halfway done with college by now. But, instead, they did 'hybrid schooling,' splitting their time between actual high-school classes, advanced online courses, and attending classes at NYU. 

The upside to this was that every day during fourth period, it was perfectly easy for April to ditch class and make her way over to the empty room where Donnie was set up with his laptop and hang out with them instead. It wasn't like they actually took attendance at study hall, anyhow, so she was never missed. They usually didn't talk that much, seeing how Donnie was technically in a virtual class, but it was nice to just hang out in the same room together for a while. 

By the time she arrived, Donnie was already set up on their computer with headphones on, and April settled down at the desk next to him to get some work done, as per routine. But she was perhaps a bit less focused than she usually was. She dragged herself through her geometry homework as best as she could, but… her eyes betrayed her and glanced over at her friend again and again, totally against her will, and frowned ever so slightly.

The boys were stresst with a capital T. April had known them more than long enough to be able to recognize that much, at least. Typically, she was, quite frankly, amazed with their ability to roll with the punches and handle whatever was thrown their way, seamlessly adding it to the cacophony of activities they juggled day-to-day. It almost irritated her how casual they usually were about it. Oh, yeah, we're traveling out of state next week for a National Tournament-- it's no biggie, we can do some online sessions so we don't miss too much at school. Yeah, uh-huh, I'm taking five AP classes but that won't stop me from also doing three different varsity sports. And we can pick up some side-hustles and part time jobs, too, why wouldn't we? Etc etc etc. It was almost ridiculous, and a little annoying, and yet they all seemed to thrive under their fast-pace, high-pressure lifestyle. Don't get her wrong or anything, compared to the average high-schooler, April was out there hustling, too. AP courses, Varsity softball, after-school jobs, (while they lasted...) She was doing plenty! But gotdamn. The Hamatos were on another level.

She was used to it by now. She didn't really think about it too much, so long as they still made sure to leave time for her in their schedules, which they always did. She attended martial arts tournaments, robotics demolition derbies, and theatre productions when she had the time, and they visited her at whatever job she had that week and showed up to her softball games when they were able to. It all evened out. 

But it was times like these when she became aware of it again. 

She could see it in the way Donnie’s fingers tapped out an anxious rhythm on their thighs, their leg bouncing up and down as they listened to their professor. She saw it in the way Leo huffed and rolled his eyes, all bristly and lackadaisical and annoying the whole morning. She saw the way Mikey curled in on himself, the way his eyelids tugged with restlessness lately. And she could see Raph’s back bending with the weight and the worry he carried, the way his shoulders squared off and his snaggletooth pawed anxiously at his bottom lip whenever he was idle.

They were a whole pack of emotional disasters. And once she fixed it for them, they were going to owe her big time. 

She was used to it, though. They had always been disasters.

“Hey!”

The child across the alley jumped, taking two big steps back and going absolutely rigid, their eyes blown up wide behind their glasses. April stomped her way over, both her hands on her hips, bunching up her overalls with the amount of attitude she was putting into the pose.

“That’s mine,” she said firmly, moving to grab the little green Magnetix rods from the stranger’s hands back. Like, yes, okay, she had accidentally left a couple here a few days ago. But she had meant to come back and get them! Who went around just grabbing random, very obviously valuable and well-loved toys out of alleyways!? And who was this guy anyway?! She had never seen any other kids playing around here before. This has always been her alley.

As soon as she so much as brushed the other kid’s hand, however, he fucking opened his mouth and screamed. April, quite startled, like a reasonable person might be, jumped back and screamed in response, clapping her hands over her ears, and he did the same, screaming a second time. April was thinking about screaming again, just so that she could get the last word when suddenly, there were two strangers.

“Leave my brother alone!” Strange Kid Number Two declared loudly, planting himself firmly in between herself and Strange Kid Number One. April frowned deeply, looking them up and down suspiciously, taking note of the odd stripes over his eyes. She had never seen anything like that before.

“I didn’t do anything to him!” She immediately argued, crossing her arms over her chest with a scowl.

“You did too! I watched you! You grabbed him and he doesn’t like it when people touch him!” The other accused firmly, reaching back to grab their brother’s hand in what seemed like a gesture of comfort. April balked.

“You’re touching him right now!”

“Yeah, ‘cause that’s different! He likes me!” 

“He stole my Magnetix!”

“He did not!”

“Did too!”

“Nu-uh!”

“Yeah-huh!”

“Liar!” Stripes accused boldly, stepping forward just enough to shove her a little bit by the shoulder. April gasped loudly at the sheer audacity of this kid. Narrowing her eyes, she stepped forward and pushed him right back-- hard.

With a little chirp of surprise, Stripes stumbled backward, falling flat on his butt. He blinked a few times, seeming kind of shell-shocked for a moment, processing what had just happened. He stared widely up at April for a moment, who looked at him right back, her hands on his hips. No one messed with April O’Neil. Especially not in her own dang alley!

“... Yeah, okay,” he said after a minute, completely calm all of a sudden, before getting back to his feet and brushing some dust off his jeans. His brother reached over, tugging at his sleeve and placing the plastic toy in his hand, which he then, in turn, immediately presented to April.

“Here, Donnie said you can have this back now.”

Okay, now it was her turn to be a little taken aback. She hesitated for a second before reaching forward and slowly accepting it, shoving it into her pockets.

“We’re gonna play Shell Bowling now. Do you wanna come?”

Shell Bowling? She had never heard of anything like that before in her life. These kids are weird, she thought to herself.

“Yeah, okay.”

“Cool,” Stripes said, grinning. “Come on, this way. We’re trying to find stuff we can use for pins.”

“What kind of stuff?”

“I dunno, like. Cardboard and empty bottles and stuff?”

“Your parents let you play in the trash?” April gaped, her eyes widening a bit. Stripes looked confused.

“Yours don’t?”

April absolutely beamed as she shook her head no.

“Oh. That’s weird,” Stripes remarked, tilting his head to the side. “... That’s okay. We’ll let you play with us anyway. What’s your name? Mine’s Leo.”

“April. April O’Neil! Do you think you can do Shell Bowling with traffic cones?! I know where we can find a whole bunch!”

… Okay. Fine. So maybe she was a disaster, too. That was why they all fit together so nicely. 

She could see Donnie’s laptop screen easily from where she sat, and as soon as class ended and she saw him switch his headphones back over to ‘awareness mode,’ she spoke.

“Movie night tonight.”

 It wasn’t a question, it was a statement. Donnie frowned a little bit.

“... I have a test tomorrow.”

 “So?”

“I have to study.”

“No, you don’t. You never study.”

“Mikey and I have dance class until eight.”

“That’s fine. We’ll start movie night at eight, then,” she replied easily, tilting her head up just enough to give the other a look. Donnie sighed a bit, pursing his lips.

 “... Fine.”

April smiled. One down, three to go. Not that she expected much of a fight from anyone else. She knew Donnie wasn’t always the most gung-ho about family activities or social events, but she also knew that they would end up enjoying themselves and that all four Hamatos kids could benefit from having a chill night together. Besides, she missed hanging out with all her brothers. 

Tonight would be good. She was sure of it.

Responsibility was difficult. It was a great honor to be trusted, though it could be a very heavy burden to bear. 

But it was one he would bear with pride.

Even if he was just a little guy.

Agent 64’s paws pattered softly on the concrete as he darted through the dimly lit alleys of New York, the long evening shadows painting tiger stripes across his yellow fur. He knew well enough that the Council was counting on him. Already, despite attempts to halt panicked rumors and keep the peace, the Hidden City was in an uproar at the news of the infamous Baron Draxum’s escape from prison. The tales of his barbaric human and yokai mutations, experimenting brazenly upon unwilling, kidnapped subjects, had horrified citizens years earlier when the story first broke. Agent 64 remembered it well, as it had been he who had investigated the crimes. It was he who broke into Draxum’s lab, ten years ago, at the council’s command, and collected evidence of his unlawful cruelty. It had been a fluke, truly, that the investigation had taken place at all. The council had long been suspicious of the warrior alchemist’s work, but it was only an off-hand comment from a Battle Nexus guard regarding the actions of his gargoyles, heard by chance by the correct pair of ears, that had spurred them into action. 

Even now, thinking of the things he had seen during his espionage mission, those many years ago, made all his fur stand on end, his lips curled back over his tusks in disgust. But the pride he felt in the part he played putting him behind bars made his tail puff up and sway. It had taken years with how desperately they had fought in court… But with his evidence? They had won.

It was only fitting that he do it again.

That being said, Agent 64 knew their place. They were a spy-- an envoy, a collector of secrets and knowledge, but a fighter, they were not. He was, as previously mentioned, just a little guy. But that was not an obstacle to him. 

He parted his jaws to scent the air, the aura of New York flooding his senses as stale city air hit the roof of his mouth. His eyes narrowed, head bobbing slightly to the right. 

Soil. Earth. Wool. Rotting. Vegetation. 

This way. The scent went this way. He was close-- and on the move.

His mission wasn’t to engage. He wasn’t meant to engage-- his mission was simply to find him. Find the fugitive, and alert the Hidden City Police, and they’d lock him away for good this time. He just prayed it was before anyone got hurt.

If he could prevent even one more victim from falling under Baron Draxum’s heels, then all the work, the nightmares, the danger… it would all be worth it. 

He had already tracked him this far. All the way up to the surface, beyond the realm of Yokai-kind, and Agent 64 had a hard time believing that there could be any innocent reason for this. No… There were no good intentions in this man’s decisions. He had to hurry. A horrible feeling in the pit of his stomach told him that there was danger ahead. His teeth bared in a soft growl, he darted forward, scampering through the cold city streets before he disappeared with a flash of glimmering cyan light, the sharp scent of smoke and sulfur left to settle on the wet stone in his wake.

Had he slept very soundly this past week or so? No. Had he consistently remembered to do any of his homework in that same timeframe? Also no. Had the scorch marks on his desk stopped making him freeze up every time he saw them? No, definitely not!

But he was still so pumped!

Mikey knew that it hadn’t actually been that long since they had a movie marathon night, but it felt like it had been ages! April had barely even gotten the words out of her mouth before he was excitedly proposing the films they would watch, what order they would watch them in, the seating arrangements, and, most importantly, the snacks. He was preparing all the family favorites. Pep-corn, caramel-pretzel cookies, pizza bites, triple-chocolate-hot choccy, plain saltines…

Okay, so. There were a variety of palettes in the family. That was fine! He could accommodate all of them. He had absolutely rushed home from dance practice that evening, all but dragging Donnie behind him in his hurry to get back to the apartment and have time to prepare everything. It was cutting it a bit close, but so long as he got everything that needed to be baked in the oven before everyone was ready, they should be just fine! Though he had only just gotten home, he had already chased Donnie down to the Lair to set up the projector, immediately throwing himself into his cooking and blocking everything else out. He was just bursting with impatience for them to get here, so that he could start the battle to convince them all that they should definitely watch, “Jupiter Jim in Jupiter Jim’s Quest Through The Asteroid Belt And The Forgotten Relic Mistakenly Left on Mercury: The Second Sequel” first. It was gonna be a hard sell, he knew, but he was up for the challenge! It was honestly super underrated. Plus, he knew that the snacks were gonna put automatic points in his ring.

 He grinned to himself, unable to bite back his smile as he measured out dry ingredients into a mixing bowl, hurriedly running through the recipe that he already knew by heart. For the first time since ‘The Incident,’ he felt almost at ease again. Like, maybe, things were gonna be okay. It was as if that shadow that had been hanging over him the past few days had finally faded away, and he was just oozing out sunshine in response. 

This was gonna be a good night.

He was momentarily distracted from his thoughts by a sharp, heavy rap on the front door. 

“I’ve got it!” He shouted, tossing the measuring cup down on the counter and scampering off down the hall, brushing some stray flour off his shirt as he went. Aw, man, this was one of his favorites, too. He shoulda worn that apron Raph got him for his last birthday, he always forgot to put it on…

He wasn’t even looking up properly when he swung the door open, but a spare upward glance immediately turned into a double-take.

A hulking figure lurched over the door frame, slitted magenta eyes blown wide and wild. A fanged maw was twisted into a snarl behind a facemask of cold, icy glass and ribbons of bronze. Their hair was long and crazed, whipped about in frenzied cyclones around their neck and shoulders, and artificial metal horns jutted from their cheekbones like weapons. Their clawed hands slammed into the doorframe, peeling chips of paint away in their furious grip, a creaking crunch being pulled from the abused wood as they did so. 

 “WHERE IS LOU JITSU?!” The stranger roared, heavy breath fogging up the glass of their own helmet. Their expression was wild and furious, animalistic and predatory-- searching desperately for their prey, as if the failure of their hunt might kill them entirely. 

Mikey blinked slowly, their eyes wandering up the figure, and then back down. He chewed the inside of his cheeks, bunching his brows together nervously before he tilted his head back just enough to call into the apartment.

“... Hey Daddddddd?” 

Chapter Text

Donnie was getting a bit tired of hearing his baby brother scream bloody murder from up the stairs. And, dammit, you would think that they would be used to it by now, with just how vocal Mikey could be. But he was also pretty sure there would never come a day where he heard Mikey scream and didn't immediately start running in that direction.

The loud crashes that followed shortly after were fairly motivational as well.

Taking the steps two at a time, Donnie sprinted up the stairs from the Lair, skidding to a halt at the top. They had to cling to the railing to avoid completely falling over, their knees threatening to give out for just a moment as they gawked at the scene in front of them. As if echoing the very state of him, the entire house seemed to shake from the force with which his father was slammed against the drywall, the towering form of some alien stranger pinning him in place and snarling.

"You have them? They've been here the entire time?!" The intruder cried, the sound of family pictures falling from the walls and shattering against the hardwood harmonizing with his howls. Move. Move. Do something. Move your legs! Donnie's internal monologue hissed at them furiously. But their body wasn't responding. 

 Vaguely, he heard shouting and footsteps from upstairs. But he couldn't take his eyes off his father, whose back was pressed up against the wall, held forcefully in place, but with his feet finding footing against the drywall regardless, arms braced firmly out in front of him to hold his assailant at bay. For just one second, his eyes met Donnie's, and they could see his ferocity twist into panic for just that brief moment. 

 "Purple! Get your brother into the basement! Now!!!" He bellowed, twisting his body sharply to slam his leg into the side of this-- man? Creature? In front of him, the force of the blow sending him stumbling to the side, allowing Hamato Yoshi the space to wrench his way free and launch a strike of his own.

 Donnie's eyes flashed over to his little brother, pressed up against the wall, and his terrified expression was enough to get their legs to begin working again, darting over and grabbing Mikey by the wrist. 

 "What the hell happened?! Who's this!?"

 "I don't know! I don't know! He just-- They just started fighting! I don't know!" Mikey gasped out, not even looking at Donnie, their breath tumbling out of them in panicked cries. Donnie's eyes snapped around to follow the sound of a horrid crunch-- their dad's foot connecting with the side of the stranger's head-- before turning back to his brother.

 "Come on!" He hissed, yanking at his brother's wrist, but Mikey yanked back.

 "But-- but Dad!"

 Oh God. Why was it him? Why wasn't it Leo or Raph? Why weren’t they here to handle this? He was way past overwhelmed, their heart hammering in their ears, their chest aching, their head buzzing. Jesus christ. Were they dying? They were pretty sure the world was ending. They couldn’t hear. They couldn’t breathe.

 Their father wheezed loudly at a blow to his chest, staggering backward, but staying on his feet, immediately surging forward in a counterattack.

You know martial arts. You've been studying martial arts since you were five. Why aren't you moving?

 Their dad's fist connected with the man's jaw, but the second blow was countered, his fist caught in the stranger's hand and used to toss him aside, narrowly missing the coffee table. 

 Dad said to get to the basement. He said to get Mikey to the basement. You have to protect Mikey.

He was still on the ground, but he lunged to sweep the intruder's legs out from under him when he approached, leaping back up to his feet.

You could help. He needs help. You could help him.

There was blood on his dad's face now.

You've never been in an actual fight before!

"Dad!" Leo yelled as he reached the bottom of the stairs, April and Raph following suit, all three bristling with horror. But Leo didn't hesitate the way Donnie did. Leo didn’t freeze up or second-guess. Leo didn't even think for a second-- he lunged.

 "Blue!" Their father screamed.

 Everything was happening too fast. Donnie could barely see anything. His eyes weren't working. His ears weren't working. His lungs weren't working. 

They could still see, however, in slow motion, this strange man's body snapping around, away from their Dad, turning instead towards his brother, his twin, his arm lashing out to meet his assault. Calculations tumbled through Donnie's head. Leo's entry angle was wrong, he was moving too fast, his arm wasn't in the right position, he couldn't block, his head was open, his throat was open--

 Out of the very corner of his eyes, Donnie saw a small streak of yellow dart inside through the still-open front door.

 And then the stranger disappeared in a flash of blue light.

 So did their dad.

Dully, Yoshi recognized that he was no longer in his own house. He recognized that his sons were not here any longer. He recognized that they had been moved, teleported away, and his entire body seemed to fizzle slightly with the leftover touch of mystic energy. But all of this was a gentle echo bouncing around in his skull, as inconsequential as a single raindrop.

 Because the one thought that dominated his mind, the single, roaring thunderstorm pulsing through his body, sending him flashing forward at a speed that surprised even him, was all-encompassing.

  "Stay away from my sons," he snarled, his own throat staggering painfully with the force with which he screamed out his warning, his hands flashing forward to grab Draxum by his throat, snatching fistfuls of his hair, and slamming him into the ground-- flinging him bodily away from the space Leonardo had once occupied. 

His entire body ached, all his muscles lit on fire and his joints actively wailing in protest to each movement. His face was hot with blood, he recognized, but it didn't matter much to him right now. He would sooner die than allow Baron Draxum to lay a finger on any of his children.

 He could hear Draxum hiss as he dragged himself back to his feet, quickly shifting back into a fighting stance that echoed his own. He barely allowed himself half a moment to glance around, taking note of the new terrain. Where were they...? Was this the Hidden City? He could recognize the skyline off in the distance. How did they get here?

 A furry yellow creature snarled weakly at Draxum's feet, clearly injured but jerking forward to attempt to bite the alchemist anyway. Draxum dismissed it quickly with a swift kick, sending the small yokai tumbling to the side in a scuffed heap. Yoshi curled his lips with disgust, leaping forward once more. He hardly even had to command his body. He had trained to fight for nearly his entire life. It knew what to do even without him.

 He could hear Draxum's harsh breath even over the sound of his own, even over the sound of each impact, repeatedly striking out only to be blocked by the other, and blocking his attacks in return. A bitter laugh worked its way from his throat even as another frontal assault was shut out, forcing him to dance backward, recalculating his entry point.

 "Prison has treated you well, Draxum!" He cackled. "I see your mystic powers have faded."

 "Still enough to best you," he growled in return, but Yoshi noted an absence of vines at his feet, foliage failing to furrow up to the surface and aid in the battle. Thank god.

 "You have no business with me and my family!" He spat.

 "Those turtles are mine." Draxum surged forward, and Yoshi just barely managed to dodge his well-timed kick, biting back a curse. He couldn't keep this up for much longer-- not at this pace. He suddenly regretted not keeping up with his fitness and training regimen once his acting career was no longer considered a priority. 

"They are children," he snapped, his eyes darting around frantically as he dodged a series of wild blows, ducking out of the way as he took rapid inventory of their terrain. 

 There, over there. The dry patch. We have to get there.

"They're my life’s work!" Draxum hissed, and Yoshi grit his teeth, his mouth set in a scowl. Oh, this was going to be unpleasant. 

 The glass of his assailant’s mask was already cracked. He just had to finish the job. Yoshi shut his eyes tight as he pitched his entire body weight forward, the front of his skull smashing into the surface of the helmet with a horrid crunch. His entire body groaned in protest as stars danced in front of his eyes, whiplash turning his stomach while shattered glass fell to the ground around them. Almost immediately, the wind was knocked clean out of him when Draxum's fist swung into his gut-- an instant punishment for leaving himself open. The world seemed to slow for just a moment before he went flying backward with the force of the blow.

But the opening was intentional. 

Though the world was reeling around him, he steeled himself, twisting his body in the air just enough so that he could find his feet again on impact. And the impact wasn't going to be fun. It would be happening any second now, he noted, and he wasn't planning on enjoying it. But he would land where he needed to be. 

 A choked cough wrenched its way from his body as he bounced across the hard ground, forcing his body to right itself before gravity dragged him back down again. It was not a good back feel. Or ankle feel. Or body feel, just, like, generally speaking, and he lurched once he was finally on his own two feet again, his vision spinning, briefly threatening to overtake him.

 Adrenaline was a powerful drug, however, and he stood his ground. His teeth bared and his stance firm, even as Draxum approached, his fangs split in a smile and his gaze predatory. Yoshi shifted slightly, feeling the loose, sandy dirt beneath his feet shift.

 That's right. Come closer.

 "Ready to admit defeat, Lou Jitsu?" Draxum laughed, mockery dripping from each word, his stance rigid and smug, as though the fool thought he had already found his victory. 

 What an idiot.

 "Not yet," Yoshi muttered, rolling his knees ever so slightly, the side of his foot digging into the dry earth. He twisted his entire body hard to one side, kicking his leg out in a wide arc, and all at once a rippling cloud of dust took to the air, blinding Draxum, forcing him to stagger backward as he choked. 

 By the time the dust cleared, Lou Jitsu would already be gone. 

Leo had been expecting a collision.

 He expected pain. He knew that his footing was off. He knew, even as he was doing it, that his attack was sloppy and reckless. He would never move that way in a tournament. So why was he now? What was wrong with him?

 He had left himself wide open. And he was expecting to be punished for it.

 But the impact never came. 

 He stumbled slightly, in the space where the stranger had once been, just barely managing to catch himself and avoid toppling over. He looked around, dazed, tilting his head from side to side and checking over his shoulder. There was this ringing in his ears that swallowed up everything.

 "... Dad?"

 Mikey screamed again, but this time it sounded less like fear and more like grief, which only made Leo's heart rate spike even higher.

 "Dad?!" He repeated, a bit more frantic this time, spinning in a few circles. "I-- Dad?! What happened?! Where did Dad go?! Who-- who was that guy?"

 "I don't know!" Mikey wailed. "He just-- He just came to the door! He knocked on the door, so, I, I answered, and-- I didn't know! I'm sorry, Dad came, and they just-- I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I didn’t know!"

Donnie's knuckles were pale from how hard he was hanging onto Mikey's arm, and he was staring intensely off into the middle distance.

 "Where'd Dad go!?" Raph demanded, thundering the rest of the way down the stairs. April stayed frozen on the spot, fumbling with her pockets.

 "I don't know-- I-- he was right here, I--" 

 "He just disappeared!" Mikey cried.

 "He didn't disappear. People don't just disappear!" Leo protested, his voice strained. "He was here. He was right here, there-- there has to be a logical explanation, I--"

 "Mom?" April's voice cracked as she held her cell phone up to her ear.

 "Who the hell was that?! They-- they've gotta be nearby! They can't have gotten that far!" Raph insisted, his tone quickly growing panicked. "You check the house, I'm gonna check outside."

 "What was that light?! Why was there a light? It was-- it looked like electricity or something!" Mikey whimpered.

"Mom, are you home? S-someone just, just broke into The Hamato’s apartment. I don't know! No, I'm fine, they're gone. But I-- I don't know what to do--"

 Donnie still wasn't moving. Leo basically ran through the apartment, throwing open every door that he could find, resisting the urge to fucking open cupboard drawers. He had to be here. They had to be somewhere, they couldn't just be gone. Their dad couldn't just be gone. He had just been looking at him two seconds ago! He just heard his voice!

He had just heard his voice screaming his name. It was still on loop in his brain. His blood was still on the floor, for fuck's sake. He couldn't just be gone.

"They're-- they're not outside," Raph called, his voice cracking, jogging back through the front door. 

 "Who the hell was that guy?! What was he-- was he wearing a costume or something? Did any of you recognize him? He had-- he had, like, armor on, and, and facepaint, I think? Or. Or a mask--" Leo stammered, stumbling his way back into the living room, clinging to the door frame like it would hold him up, like it would make the world stop tilting around him.

 "He had fangs. Like-- like sharp teeth," Mikey whispered. 

 "Why is there a guy in movie make-up showin' up to fight Dad? Is he-- did they know each other? Like, from acting, or something? I don't-- why else would he be here!?"

 There had to be an explanation. A reason. Something that he was missing that would explain everything and show him how to fix it, like, right now. Leo wracked his brain, running blindly through every possible scenario he could conjure and praying that he would trip over an answer as he did so. 

 "He just. He just showed up, and, and he started screaming for Lou Jitsu," Mikey said, holding out a hand helplessly, as if trying to reach for something, grab for something, and then burying his fingers in his hair instead, yanking at his locs. "He was-- he was asking for... for something. He said Dad had it-- I think? Looking for... for 'them.' For someone?"

April hung up the call with her mother, punching three digits into the keypad and holding the phone back up to her mouth. "Hello--?" 

Raph stiffened, his mouth halfway open as he stuttered for a second. A look of dawning horror slowly spread across his face as he paled.

 "... Was he looking for us?"

"I am telling you, he is out there right now!" Yoshi insisted, just barely resisting the urge to slam his hands down on the police desk in front of him. It was more out of concern for his bruised and battered body than it was out of respect if he was being honest.

 "Look, sir, I understand, but what do you want me to do? Go running out there myself and comb the old train yards for him?" The purple Yokai in front of him scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back in his chair slightly, looking way more irritated than he had any right to be. Yoshi grit his teeth.

 "YES!" He hissed. "Yes! You! Your coworkers! Every officer you have-- go look for him! He cannot have gotten far, and this is an incredibly dangerous criminal--!"

 "Okay, okay. Look. We will do everything we can," the policeman insisted, holding out a hand as if to dismiss or quiet the other. "I just need you to fill out this report for me, and everyone in the Hidden City is gonna get the BOLO, okay? We'll look for him. We're looking for him. He's Hidden City's Most Wanted right now! Just... I need the paperwork. Alright?"

Yoshi sighed deeply, his shoulders slumping. He had never in his life felt so old.

 "Fine," he muttered, reluctantly taking up the offered pen and beginning to fill out the required forms. Ridiculous, long, difficult-to-read forms... He walked into it feeling defeated, resigned to his fate, but the longer he slogged through the paperwork the angrier he became, his frustration building up over and over again. 

 Baron Draxum was out there right now. For all he knew, this very second he was putting into motion some plot to go after his sons again. His sons-- who were no doubt terrified at home, with no idea where he had gone. His sons who were sitting ducks should Draxum turn right around and return back to their apartment, who had no way of defending themselves properly against him...

 And he was filling out a glorified questionnaire!?

 He completed the form. He gave it to the officer and thanked him for his time. He politely declined the suggestion that he seek medical treatment, and he walked out the door, the way he had come in some twenty minutes ago. 

 His bones themselves ached, as did every bit of him layered atop. He had run all the way here. He wasn't sure how far it was, or how long it had taken, but it had felt very, very long. It was the most cardio he had done since his body pillow brand was still in production. At least the bleeding had stopped, and, miraculously, nothing was broken. 

 It had been a long time, but he knew what a broken bone felt like.

 He walked about a block away from the police station before he sat down wearily on the curb, burying his face in his hands and sighing deeply. What now?

 What could he do? What options even were there? He couldn't very well just return home and pretend like this had never happened. He knew Baron Draxum would come back. He could hope, of course, that the Hidden City police would apprehend him soon, but... What if they did not? Could he really afford that kind of a chance?

 He couldn't just allow his children to sit in oblivious danger like that. 

 But then what was the alternative? Go into hiding? Return to a life hunkered down in the sewers? Tear his family out of society and bring them back to isolation, living alone underground? How could he possibly do that to his family? Every single day he watched the joy that they found in simply living, and saw the potential that they had to do whatever they wanted with their lives-- potential so bright and potent that near everyone he met felt compelled to comment on it. Mikey has a dance recital next week, he thought to himself. And Donatello had not stopped excitedly talking about their upcoming robotics competition for months now. They hardly went even a day without seeing April or another one of their friends. 

He and Raphael had begun discussing college. 

Even just thinking of his children losing the life they had made him want to weep. Truly, the only thing stopping him from curling up on the asphalt and crying was his need to focus on the problem in front of him, his brain moving too fast to allow for tears. 

If he started crying, he knew he would not stop. It was not the time for that. His family needed him.

He could not ignore this threat... But he could not throw away his sons' lives, either. They had something good. His sons had something good. He had to protect it.

Yoshi inhaled deeply, picking his head up and resting his elbows on his knees. His jaw set in a deep frown, he scanned the streets, before finally he settled on a bustling tent just down the block, tucked in with the many other stalls, shops, and stone statues that made up the hidden city, all dramatically lit by a combination of flashing neons and massive bioluminescent mushrooms. “Luxury Simurghs,” the sign advertised proudly, and true to its word, several massive feathered creatures lazed idly outside the business, their bridles tied to nearby posts, a driver milling about nearby.

 “Excuse me,” Yoshi called as he approached, holding out a hand to hail them down. “I need to get to the Battle Nexus. How much is the fare?”

"Look, I’m telling you, they’re out there right now! They couldn’t have gotten far!" Leo insisted, just barely resisting the urge to throw his hands up at the police officer in front of him. It was more out of concern for his shaking knees and unsteady footing than it was out of respect if he was being honest.

 "Look, I understand. I know this is difficult, kid, but what do you want me to do? Drop everything and go running out through the city myself looking for them?” The policeman responded, looking way more irritated than he had any right to be. Leo grit his teeth.

 "YES!" He cried. "Yes! You! Your coworkers! Your coworker’s coworkers! Your friends and family, your dog, your LinkedIn connections, I don’t care -- just go look for them! Please, they’ve gotta be close by, and our Dad is hurt, there’s no way he wouldn’t be home by now if he wasn’t--!"

 "Okay, okay. Look. We’re doing everything we can," the policeman insisted, holding out a hand as if here were calming a spooked horse. "I just need you to answer a few questions for me, OK? And everyone in New York is gonna get the BOLO. We're looking for them. We’ll find your dad. I just need some more information to help us.”

Leo sighed deeply, his shoulders slumping. He drew his arms in around himself, hugging himself tight and suddenly feeling very small, like a child who had been scolded by their teacher.

 "Fine," he mumbled. “Just-- tell me what you wanna know.”

“Okay. So, the intruder came in the front door, at about eight-forty-five. You said he had a mask?”

“Yeah,” he bit out, swallowing hard. “He had, like, uh… It had glass on it, like, on the front, so you could see his face? But I think it was tinted. And there, was like… gold or bronze around the edges, I guess, and there were these big horn things coming out the side.” 

The officer nodded along, taking a few notes down as they spoke. “And did you get a good look at his face? Any discernible features?”

Leo hesitated. “He had… uh. Kind of a long face, I guess? Like… angular. I don’t know. I didn’t get a super good look at him.”

“Mmm-hm,” the officer frowned a bit. “Maybe your brother…?”

“Mikey already talked to you,” Leonardo snapped, immediately bristling, a flash of protectiveness lighting through his chest again. Mikey had hardly been able to get through his own interview for how much he was weeping the entire time, barely able to get the breath to stutter out words. 

“Right,” the officer said, and Leo could see how the corners of his lips twitched a bit. “Well, we’ll just wrap up a few questions and paperwork, okay? Do you know where your neighbor went?”

“She’s in the kitchen,” Leo muttered, his brows furrowed. April’s mom, (Carol, some far-off voice in his brain provided, her name was Carol,) had gotten here about thirty seconds after April called her, and had quickly taken control of the situation, much to Leo’s relief. He was pretty sure she was still answering questions and filling out police forms and emergency custody papers. Leo didn’t think he had ever seen so many people in his house in his entire life, what with all the cops, the social workers, the detectives… There hadn’t even been this many guests at his ‘I Was An Extra In An Episode of Gossip Girl Premiere Party.’ And he had invited a lot of people. 

Swallowing dryly, he watched as people hustled and bustled through the room, pulling anxiously at his sleeves. Mikey (still in tears,) and Donnie, (non-verbal,) had long since retreated back down to the Lair with April after they were permitted to leave the scene, but Raph still lingered, talking to a different officer across the room. Frowning, Leo waited until he was alone before wandering over in his direction. He swore his feet were moving on their own.

 “Hey,” he said.

 “Hey,” Raph echoed, and his voice sounded sore and wrung out, all the moisture squeezed from it. “You holdin’ up okay?”

“Oh, yeah. Totally,” Leo muttered, frowning a little, and then frowning further when Raph’s eyes darted away. He didn’t mean to be a sarcastic shithead, this just… sucked. “What about you?”

“I’m fine,” Raph said. Uh-huh. Liar.  

“Did your cop actually tell you anything useful, or just ask a bunch of stupid questions?” Leo hummed. “Because mine was totally worthless.”

“Not really,” Raph admitted. “Just said they’re… lookin’. Or they’re gonna look. I mean,” Raph laughed nervously. “I mean. Technically, it ain’t even been an hour yet! Dad could be comin’ home any minute now.”

“Right,” Leo said, though he knew neither of them believed it.

“Right,” Raph echoed weakly, the forced smile falling back off his face. Leo swallowed the lump in his throat quickly, looking down at his feet.

“My guy said that April’s mom is gonna… stay? Until Dad gets back?” He ventured, almost hesitantly. 

“Yeah. Yeah. They said, uh, that the O’Neils would have. Uhm. Emergency custody, or something. Just. Uh. Until this gets sorted out, and stuff. So that’s good.”

“Yeah,” Leo said, nodding a tiny bit. His grip on the edges of his sweatshirt sleeves tightened, repeatedly smoothing his fingers over the soft fabric, pressing it tight between the pads of his fingers. “... Did you know Dad had a will? With… emergency custody arrangements?”

“... Nah. I didn’t.”

“He’s not that old.”

“Yeah, I know Leo, but, I mean, Dad is… He probably just wanted to be cautious. I mean. Just in case something… bad happened, or something. He is a single parent ‘n all,” Raph defended, shooting a sidelong glance at Leo.

Leo immediately fled from the eye contact, looking down at his sneakers instead, his shoulders hunched. “Yeah. Probably,” he said.

What Raph was saying made sense. But his stomach still turned like something was really, really wrong.

“... How’re Donnie and Mikey holding up?” Leo finally asked after a long, heavy beat of silence between the two.

“Could be better,” Raph muttered, and Leo winced a bit. That meant ‘not good.’

“Think anyone’s gonna care if we head downstairs? We already answered all their questions. My guy said they were just finishing paperwork and stuff,” Leo said, nudging his brother slightly, ‘cause he knew that if he was anxious to check on the other two, his older brother had to be about five times as bad in that big head of his. Raph hesitated a bit and then nodded stiffly. 

“Yeah. They can come find us if they need us,” he muttered, slowly turning his back on all the lingering crowds of adults, as though he was waiting to see if anyone was going to stop him, before leading the way down the stairs to the Lair.

 The good news, Leo immediately noted, was that Mikey was no longer weeping. No, he had tapered down into very soft sniffles and hiccups, practically curled up in a ball in April’s lap, his face hidden against her shoulder. It took Leo a little bit to spot his twin, but eventually, he caught sight of them-- all the way across the room, pressed up into a corner, his back to the rest of them. April glanced up at Raph and Leo’s appearance, visible relief washing over her expression. Her face said, thank god you guys are here. There’s only one of me.

Leo watched his older brother all but physically flounder for a second, clearly torn, before Leo finally nudged him with his hip.

 "Go squeeze the shit out of Mikey. I've got Donnie." 

 Raph frowned a bit. "You sure?"

 "Yeah. I've got it," Leo repeated, not waiting around to listen and see if Raph had any further concerns or protests, heading off in the direction of his twin.

 Donnie wasn't collapsed in a limp little ball like Mikey was. He was stiff and sharp, his shoulders held square and firm, all his limbs tucked in on himself and held there awkwardly, facing the wall and staring it down like it owed him money. It didn't look like it could possibly be comfortable, but to be fair, Leo thought that about a lot of things that Donnie did. There was no trembling, no shaking, no sniffles or hiccups or sobs. They were just still.

 Very slowly, as though he was afraid he would spook them and scare them off, Leo moved to crouch and sit down next to them, getting settled on the cold concrete floor. For a good minute or so, they simply sat together, just the three of them-- Leo, Donnie, and the silence. 

 "Hey Don," Leo said quietly, and received no response. But that didn't really surprise him. If he wanted a reply, he had to give them something more tangible to hold. He knew that Donnie didn't have the grip to hang onto the smooth surface of small talk or vague prompts right now. They needed something straightforward. They needed something that required an answer.

 "Did you get hurt at all or anything?" He asked. That should work. Uncomplicated, objective, based in fact. If he was being honest, it was what he wanted right now, too. 

 It took a minute, but finally, Donnie moved, (Leo swore he could hear their muscles untense, creaking and grinding and unsticking, like opening up a window that had been painted over,) his hands uncurling from tight fists so that they could sign instead.

 'No.'

 "Good," Leo whispered, because he didn't know what else to say. He was tempted to switch over to sign language as well, but with the way Donnie was sitting, their face practically shoved in the corner and Leo slightly behind them, with the way their eyes wouldn't focus on anything, he got the feeling that it wouldn't be very effective right now. "The police are almost done. They should be gone soon. They said they're just finishing up paperwork and stuff, I guess. And the O'Neils are gonna stay here with us until Dad's back. So we don't gotta go anywhere or anything."

 Donnie didn't respond. They didn't make a noise. They didn't move. There was no change in their posture, no change in their expression, no change in their eyes. But Leo swore that he could feel their relief.

Of course, Donnie would refute such a claim. They had run multiple experiments as kids to test theories such as 'twin telepathy' or 'shared senses.' (Looking back, Leo was pretty sure it was just an excuse for the others to repeatedly hit him with a big stick, and Donnie had just wanted to see if he was dumb enough to fall for it. Unfortunately, he was.) And, okay, no. They couldn't feel each other's pain. Leo wasn't capable of finishing Donnie's sentences, he couldn't magically sense where Donnie was or if he needed help, and they had no telepathic or mind-meld abilities. 

 But they were twins.

 It was just... their thing. They weren't just basic bitches like everyone else; they were twins, they were special. Leo adored being a twin. Any time they did icebreaker games at the beginning of a new school year or training camp, Leo knew exactly what his fun fact was gonna be. When he and Donnie were together, Leo took joy in just being around them, of getting to be the visible half of a pair. And when they were apart, he always looked for any opportunity to casually mention his twin in conversation to try to spark a reaction. So that people could go, oh god, there's two of them?

And to be clear, their Dad had never been the type of parent to treat them as twins. They didn't have matching names or anything. Never were they dressed in similar clothing or identical outfits. They were never 'The Twins,' they were 'Leo and Donnie.' Two separate people living separate lives. But that didn't stop it from being a part of them. That didn't mean that 'twin' wasn't something that Leo held onto as a piece of his identity.

 'Dad told me to bring Mikey to the Lair,' Donnie signed. 

 Leo frowned a bit, opening his mouth and then closing it again. "... And?"

 'I didn't,' Donnie's face tensed, a folded crease forming between his eyebrows. 'I didn't do anything. Dad was getting attacked and I didn't even move.'

 "Dee," Leo sighed, his breath leaving his chest all at once. "Come on. What were you supposed to do? Everything was really fast! I mean, that guy was literally in and out of our house by the time I could get down the stairs--"

'You moved,' Donnie's motions were quick, harsh. 'You helped.'

"Helped?" Leo bit out an angry laugh despite himself, running his fingers through his hair exasperatedly, tugging at his curls. "Oh, yeah, big help I was! They could literally put that in the Hall of Martial Arts Fame for 'worst opening move ever.' Do you consider 'embarrassing our father and his dojo franchise by getting throat punched' to be helpful? If so, then sure, I was super helpful."

Donnie stayed quiet for a second, frowning, examining Leo's face as if he were searching for something.

 'You weren't.'

 "What?"

 'You weren't throat-punched.'

 "Well, I should have been." 

 'But you weren't.'

 Leo bit the insides of his cheeks.

 "... Yeah. Guess not."

 Neither of them said anything else for a while, because what was there to say? 'So, anyway, what's your running theory on why our Dad straight up disappeared in a flash of neon light like this is a goddamn Jupiter Jim film? Wanna compare notes? I'm thinking maybe 'kidnapped by fairies,' any thoughts?'

There was this lump in Leo's throat that he did not want to be there, and he screwed his eyes shut, focusing on the pressure he created there instead of everything else in the universe right now. It wasn't working.

 Donnie had never been a hugger. Even when they were younger, he really didn't like being touched or grabbed by anyone outside of his family, and even his dad and brothers had to learn not to push their luck when it came to physical affection 'cause Donnie liked what he liked and that was it. And the worse his headspace was, the narrower the field of 'acceptable touch' became. 

 Leo knew that their headspace was definitely not good right now. 

 His wasn't either. His was really not good. 

 "Dee," He found his voice again after a bit of trying and winced at how it kind of quivered ever so slightly at the end. "Are you... like. Hard no-touch right now, like, none at all, or--? Like. I mean. It's-- it's cool if you are, I just--"

 After several long, heavy beats of silence, Donnie shook their head a tiny bit.

 Leo scootched a bit closer to Donnie, hesitating for a second before very gently tucking his head down to rest against Donnie's shoulder. He moved slowly, watching, waiting to see if their brother would flinch or try to stop them-- purposefully giving them a chance to take it back and pull away. But they didn't. Leo's shoulders sagged as he settled, and eventually, Donnie leaned into him back, his body tilting in his direction, meeting the gentle, reassuring pressure with their own. Leo burrowed in just close enough to hide his face in the thick purple fabric of their hoodie, tucking himself away and letting Donnie hold a tiny bit of his weight for a while as he did the same for them.

Leo loved every member of his family. They were close, closer than most, and had been ever since they were little. And he would be the first to admit that Donnie and he didn't always get along. They were both too competitive for their own good and took way too much joy in getting a rise out of the other. They fought often, and between that and their busy schedules, they would sometimes go days at a time without so much as speaking to one another. 

 But Donnie was his twin. They had been conceived together, for god's sake-- they had always been there, every single step of his life, and there was something reassuring about that, somehow. Leo had never really had to face anything on his own because he had come pre-packaged with a partner. 

"Purple, may I speak with you for a moment?" Their Dad's voice had both boys' heads popping up slightly in response, looking up from the video game they were currently occupying themselves with.

Donnie's head bowed back down quickly enough, only giving a short nod. Leo recognized that Dad probably wanted to talk to Donnie alone, without the video games, but he also recognized by now that Donnie probably either didn't or just didn't care. Either way, Leo wasn't gonna point it out. Dad seemed to think about it, but then let it go, kneeling down next to them.

"You're doing very well in school, Purple," Dad said, and Donnie nodded a little. This wasn't news for anyone in the room.

"Your teachers are very impressed. Your classes are pretty easy for you right now, aren't they?"

Donnie nodded again, and Leo rolled his eyes a little bit. Yeah, whatever. Show off. Donnie always acted like everything was so easy, Fractions were not nearly as simple as he made them out to be!

"What would you think about learning some harder things? New things?" 

This caught Donnie's attention. Their head bobbed up again.

"Your teachers think you could skip a few grades. And begin taking some more advanced classes," their father continued. "That would be fun, right?"

Leo's heart climbed up into his throat as he listened in. Wait, skip a few grades? As in, like... take classes with other kids in some other part of the school? Without him? He blanched a bit at the thought of being left behind. But... but they went to school together. They took classes together. If Donnie took different classes, then who was Leo gonna sit with at lunch? Who's fruit snacks would he steal? Who would help him cheat on math quizzes? If he wasn't in class with Donnie, then who would defend him from dodgeballs in gym class? What would happen if Donnie had to touch something he didn't like if Leo wasn't around to do it for him...?

 "... What about Leo?" Donnie asked, and Leo looked over at him in surprise. "Could he come, too?"

"... No," Dad said slowly, his brows furrowing a bit. "Leo would stay in the second grade. But you would still see each other every day after school, just like you do with Mikey and Raph."

Donnie had lost interest in the conversation. He looked back down at the screen again, re-engaging in their Pokemon battle once more and turning his energy back to beating up Leo's poor Wartortle.

"If Leo can't come then I don't want to."

Sometimes, Leo felt guilty. Like he had held Donnie back somehow. They had figured out the hybrid-schooling model that Donnie still did today a bit after that, and Dad later said that he was glad it worked out that way. That he wasn’t so sure about Donatello skipping grades, that he wanted Donnie to have a chance to ‘make friends his own age’ and ‘socialize…’ But still. When people called his brother a ‘genius ’ they weren’t kidding around, and he often wondered where Donnie could be by now if he had skipped those grades. If he had enrolled in some advanced math and science academy, had steamrolled ahead with no hesitations or holds barred...

But he would have missed them if they had.

They were close, the two of them, in this weird, mismatched sort of way. Leo recognized that. But on nights when he couldn't sleep, sometimes he would think about what things were like when they were little. They were inseparable back then. A teacher had tried to sort them into two different groups for an activity in kindergarten once, and Donnie had screamed so loud that they got calls from neighboring buildings. Leo couldn't help but look at the two of them, back then, and then compare those memories to them now.

And there was this gap. There was this space between them now that hadn’t been there before, and Leo wasn’t sure when it had formed. Donnie wasn't far. They were still within arm's reach, even. But there was this distance between them that hadn’t been there once, and though most days it didn't bother him, some days Leo couldn't help but look at the distance and wonder how much bigger it could get. What would that gap look like in five years? What about in twenty?

How much further away was Donnie going to go? He was smart. He was gonna go places, Leo had known that ever since they were tiny. There was no way he was going to spend the rest of his life standing in one place, within Leo's easy reach. And Leo, if he was being quite honest with himself, had no idea where he himself was going yet.

He would never say this out loud, never in a million years, but... Leo needed his family. A lot more than they needed him, he figured.

He sighed softly, wrinkling his nose, pressing a bit closer into his brother. 

Their Dad had better come back soon.

Whoever said ‘time heals all wounds’ was an optimist and a fool.

Time changed wounds, that was certain, shifted and molded them, but heal? Yoshi wasn’t so sure. Despite the many years gone by, each time he found himself back at the Battle Nexus, it made his stomach flop and his chest ache in about fifteen different ways. Most of them unpleasant. It felt like somehow time failed to touch this place. Each time he came back, it seemed like the only thing that had changed were the names on the flyers, endlessly cycling from one champion to another. Even the faces of the guards didn’t seem to change. Not that it really mattered. So long as they knew well enough to let him in to see Big Mama when he demanded it, he didn’t especially care.

He and the employee who escorted him didn’t speak, which was just fine by him. He wasn’t exactly in the mood to talk. The long, winding stone hallways that they wandered through were cold and familiar, and even now, he could hear the distant cheer of the crowd. 

He didn’t need an escort. He knew this place well enough that he could navigate on his own. But he didn’t want to waste his breath arguing. It had, admittedly, been a long time.

The last time he had been in this place was nearly a decade ago.

Hamato Yoshi had approached the Battle Nexus, panicked, floundered, and turned back around to re-gather himself around the block about five times now. Each time, he would eventually settle himself down, wringing his hands anxiously and smoothing his whiskers, talking himself up once more and telling himself, ‘this time, I will go. I will just walk in. It will be fine,’ only to turn around at the last second and retreat again.

Yoshi didn't understand why this was so difficult. Was this really what did him in!? Of everything he had faced in his life!? This was the thing that left him cowed-- seeing his ex?!

To be fair, it was his ex who had kidnapped him and held him as a hostage and forced him to fight for his life as a source of entertainment for yokai for over a decade... and he did look a bit different than he had the last time he had seen her, which certainly didn't do anything to strengthen his courage. 

Do it for your sons, do it for your sons, do it for your sons... He chanted internally, taking a few long, deep breaths. This was the only way forward, and if he wanted this to work, (which he desperately did, both for his children's sake and, admittedly, for his own as well,) then he was going to have to man up and go talk to his ex-girlfriend.

What's the worst that could happen? 

No, actually, don't think about that. 

His next approach was not aborted. He marched up to the guard at the (least populated) entrance of the Battle Nexus, wearing all the faux confidence and swagger that he could possibly muster. 

"I am here to see Big Mama." 

The guard seemed unimpressed, raising one fuzzy eyebrow and giving a soft snort of doubt as he looked down at the other. Yoshi so dearly missed being 5'11". 

"Right... Do you have an appointment?"

Come on, Yoshi. Stretch those acting muscles. "I am quite confident that she will want to see me, appointment or otherwise," he insisted coolly, taking care to keep his posture relaxed.

"Uh-huh," the guard said, all but scoffing down at him. This would be so much easier if he didn't look like a damn rat, Yoshi thought dejectedly. If he were still himself, he would just be able to walk in. No one would even think to stop Lou Jitsu from waltzing into the Battle Nexus! The hired muscle pulled a walkie-talkie out of his belt loop, one hand on his hip as he spoke into the device, never taking his slitted yellow eyes off of their guest.

"Big Mama? There's a rat out here to see ya'. Says you'll want to talk to him."

There was a beat of silence before a staticky, but familiar, voice chimed from the other end, making Yoshi's heart-rate jump embarrassingly. 

"Afraid I'm a tad busy at the moment. Tell them to toddle off, please." 

"You heard the boss," the goblin yokai grunted, crossing his arms over his chest, taking an intimidating step forward as if to try to start herding his guest away. Yoshi bristled a bit. It wasn't as though he were afraid of this guy, quite confident he could make quick work of him if he so pleased... but he also knew there were about five hundred more versions of him scattered about the facility, and he didn't especially want to make a scene. 

He groaned in frustration, burying his burning face in his hands for a moment. Was this really what he was reduced to!? Oh, how he had fallen from grace! 

"Fine! Fine. Tell her... tell her that her… Snuggle Muffin Beefcake is here."

Honestly, the guard had no right to blush at him back. Yoshi wasn’t necessarily proud of his methodology, but eventually, after some flurried back and forth and some more private walkie-talkie conversations, he was finally allowed entry into the infamous Battle Nexus.

Yoshi grumbled softly to himself as he trudged through the familiar halls of the Nexus, his tail dragging on the cold stone behind him. The guard who was escorting him, to their credit, did not even bother to look back at him as he shuffled his feet and fussed anxiously. The trip up to Big Mama's luxury box felt longer than it used to be. But he had a feeling that this was just nerves.

"Wait here. Don't touch anything," the employee said shortly, holding the door to the private viewing box open just long enough for Yoshi to shuffle in, before closing it firmly behind him with a dull thud. Yoshi grumbled under his breath, squaring his shoulders, straightening, and then finally daring to look around. 

It looked different than it had the last time he had been here. He supposed that made sense. It had been-- what? Five years since he had last been up here? And he knew how important being in the latest fashion was to Big Mama. She never went more than six months before updating at least some part of her personal spaces, whether this be new furniture or a fresh coat of paint. 

 He wandered slowly through the place, finding everything that was still familiar, one by one. The couch had been reupholstered, but it was the same one. He recognized the tiny chip on the front left leg of it. She was still using the same crystal plates and goblets. And the balcony was nearly untouched, with the same ghostly green glass barrier and smooth stone floor. The surface was uneven, worn away from thousands of footsteps moving across it over the years. Yoshi wondered how many of those footsteps were his.

He had spent over eleven years here in the Battle Nexus, and he had spent countless hours up here. Countless hours in the fighting ring below. Countless hours in the dungeons and cells even further below that. He and Big Mama's relationship had been a bit... uh... hot-and-cold during that time.

He would piss her off and be locked in a cell underground for a few weeks. They would kiss and make up and he'd spend a few weeks lounging in the Luxury Box when not in combat, free to wander the Hidden City as he pleased. Then he'd eventually grow restless, or something would happen, he would try to escape, he'd get caught, the cycle would repeat... 

It was complicated. 

He leaned over the balcony slightly, the roar of the spectators below made his pink ears twitch. Even now, two Battle Nexus champions fought far below, their grueling battle caught in high-res and displayed on the massive jumbotron mounted above. Yoshi observed for a moment, quietly thinking to himself that his money was on the smaller, masked yokai darting about the arena. The hulking crocodile creature they were up against was certainly a formidable opponent, but his strength could not match her agility, and Yoshi could already see the exhaustion in his movements from here. He would not last much longer.

He didn't recognize either of them, but he reminded himself coldly that this really shouldn't be of any surprise to him. It had been years, after all, and even more pointedly, he had likely ended the careers of most adversaries he met in the Battle Nexus. If they survived at all. 

Yoshi swallowed those memories back down. This wasn't the time. Just as he turned away from the balcony, not wishing to observe any longer, the double doors to the room opened.

Dammit. He had really been hoping she wouldn't be in spider form. 

"Snuggle Muffin Beefcake? Where did you hear that naughty little nickname, rat man?" Big Mama hissed as she approached, her legs clacking against the floor, circling the other almost like a lioness waiting for an opening to pounce. Yoshi wasn't quite sure if this was terrifying, thrilling, or both, and he hated every option.

Charm, don't fail me now.

"From you, as we tangoed the night away, my sassy sugar badger."

"It is you!" The woman gasped, all six of her beady red eyes lighting up with joy, melting into Yoshi’s embrace. It was sweet, Yoshi just really wished that she had hands instead of insectile claws. But he supposed he did have little rat paws himself, so maybe he didn't have the room to complain. "And more fetching than ever, my fuzzy cuddleofagus…!"

The emotion in her voice made his chest all gooey, and he internally scolded himself. Weak, weak man.

 "I did not come for the trip down kidnapping lane!" Yoshi huffed, glancing slightly to the side, separating the two of them. "... I am here because I need your help."

Big Mama straightened herself once she was standing on her own eight feet once more, giving a soft little hum and smile (Or was that a snarl? A sneer? Honestly, it was hard to tell.)

"Lots of people need my help, huggypoo, I'm afraid you'll have to be just a skosh more specific about the situation."

Yoshi sighed deeply. "Okay, fine. Do you know of Baron Draxum?"

"Oh, there's not a noogin in the whole Hidden City who doesn't know Draxy by now."

"So you've heard of his arrest."

"Of course, everyone in the city is all a-fuzzy-buzz about the whole nasty business."

"Okay," Yoshi said, taking a deep breath. "Okay, so, basically, what happened is five years ago Draxum sent his gargoyles to kidnap me so he could use my DNA to create mutant super soldiers to wipe out the human race, and also I think he is a fan? But then the lab caught on fire, and there was quite a large explosion, I got turned into a rat, he made four mutant children with some turtles and ooze and probably other things, I think, and when I escaped I took them with me, so I guess now they're my sons, and also they have my DNA, so I guess they’re biologically my kids, too? And we have been living in the sewers in hiding because I'm pretty sure that he thinks that we died in the fire and I would really rather not deal with him coming after us and trying to do a whole custody battle thing, I'm pretty sure it would be messy, and obviously, he is not fit to be a parent, I mean, come on, have you met that guy? But here is the thing, living in the sewer is sort of a bummer and not really the best environment to raise four small children if I'm being completely honest, but now Draxum has been arrested and so I don’t really have to worry so much about him hunting us down or whatever, which means we do not have to be in hiding, which is great, but obviously we cannot go up to New York with... this whole situation."

He gestured to all of himself. 

The silence that followed, though brief, was deafening.

"Oh my," Big Mama finally said. "You do need my help."

Yoshi sighed deeply, feeling himself slump slightly. "Please, Gumo. They are just little boys. I do not want them to spend their entire lives in abandoned sewer tunnels all on their own."

Big Mama narrowed her eyes slightly, giving Yoshi an almost sharp look. The space between them was long and heavy before she finally spoke again.

"So you want cloaking crystals, then."

"And," Yoshi hissed, pointing a finger. "I want your word that you will leave me and my sons in peace!"

Okay, this one was definitely a smile. "I suppose that can be arranged, cuddlekins. But! It's going to cost you!" She all but giggled, tapping the tip of his nose teasingly, sending Yoshi reeling back with a loud huff.

 "Cost me!?" He snapped. "Don't you think you owe me after, I don't know, kidnapping me!? I still have not gotten an apology, by the way!"

"Oh, don't be such a Prickley Petey," she laughed, waving him off. "Business is business. And besides, you loved fighting in my Battle Nexus!"

"I most certainly did not!"

"Oh, pish-posh. I don’t want to hear that sort of taradiddle. We had such magnificent times together! Just thinking about it makes my heart get all fizzy-pop!" She sighed happily.

"You tormented me!"

"Oh, is that so?" She chirped, tilting her head to the side. "That is just the most confoundfiddly thing, because I was quite sure you were enjoying yourself in that hot tub up on the rooftop that time when we--"

"Enough!" Yoshi shouted, his face flaming. No, no, no, he was not here to get tangled back in her web! They did not have to touch on such memories! "Are you going to help me or not!?"

"Well," she sighed dramatically as she made her way over to the couch in the middle of the room, draping herself across it and pretending to consider her answer. "For a price.”

That was what Yoshi was afraid she would say. He knew her deals. He had seen many poor souls fall victim to them over the years, and been on the receiving end of them plenty of times himself... And he knew that it never ended well. No one ever outsmarted Big Mama. In the end, she always came out on top.

But he had already known that when he came here. He wouldn't have ever asked her for help if he had any other choice, but it had been weeks now, and he had exhausted every other option he could possibly find. Every shady Hidden City dealer, every run-down pawn shop, every charity or old connection he could find, he had tried, and every time he had run into dead ends. No one had the resources he needed to be Hamato Yoshi again. No one had the resources he needed to give his sons a fighting chance.

 He had always known he was going to have to face her at some point. He couldn't bring his sons to the surface with a loose string like her still dangling behind him... He just wished he had been able to come here asking for less. Maybe then his knees would feel a bit less shaky.

Walking up to the negotiation table without anything in his pockets was not a good feeling.

Yoshi narrowed his eyes but then sighed softly. "What do you want?"

The Hidden City was carved into the earth, deep underground, and as a result, there was no moon or sun here. No stars or sky above. All the light in their world came from the massive glowing mushrooms that grew in abundance here, and the only hint at the passage of time came from the slightly cooler hue that they shifted to during the night. 

 Draxum estimated that, based on the current color, it had to be at least two in the morning, if not later. It had been several hours now since Lou Jitsu had fled from him, much to his irritation, and he had been forced to use every moment he had since on damage control.

Lou Jitsu may have escaped, but it had been quite easy to capture the little golden yokai who had brought them here in the first place. They were of little threat while still unconscious, and though he did admit that his mystic powers were still much weaker than they had once been, it was easy enough to create a hard-light structure capable of keeping the teleporting creature in one place. He would deal with them properly later. 

He had no doubt that Lou Jitsu would immediately run to report him to the Hidden City Police, and he could not risk still being nearby when they came to investigate. Once the agent was neutralized, he could work on the next biggest issue.

Where was he going?

He couldn't return to his former lab... They would no doubt look there if it was even still standing to begin with. He also knew full well that his face was likely plastered all over the city by now. He couldn't risk showing himself there, at least not until things had died down a bit. He had already pushed his luck enough as it was, boldly launching a full-frontal attack on the Hamato Clan. He recognized that he had perhaps been reckless, but what else could he have done!? All these years, he thought that his studies had all been lost... here he was, prepared to start his life's work over from scratch... only to learn that it had been stolen from him over a decade ago.

Lou Jitsu had had them this entire time.

He had been shocked to find posters up in the city with his arch-enemy’s face plastered on them. Draxum had all but thrown himself at every underground, low-life contact he could still find in the city to dig up the man’s location, making full use of the precious time he had before news of his escape broke and people began looking at his disguise with more scrutiny. A simple location potion from a street vendor in Witch Town was all he needed.

To think that the legendary Lou Jitsu was not only alive but hoarding his experiments as his own, thinking that he could trick him with simple cloaking crystals! The turtles’ mere existence on the earth brought him so much closer to his goal than he would have ever dared to dream. All he needed was to return them to his possession and unlock their full potential. And once the human threat had been eliminated, and yokai would once again be free to live peacefully on the earth, his name would be cleared, his record expunged, and he would finally be free to live in peace as well.

 He was so close. And once he had achieved his goal... this will have all been worth it. He felt this more than anything else he had ever experienced in his entire life. He always had. And if he had to give his life for the survival and happiness of yokai-kind, so be it. It was a sacrifice he was willing to make.

This thought alone was almost enough to send him straight back to the surface, to make another attempt at reclaiming his mutations right at this very moment, but he knew it would be too risky. If he was caught now, it would be much harder to make a second escape, and he couldn't afford to waste any more time. He was forced to be cautious for now, and seek shelter. And with the Hidden City off the table, this left him with very few options.

He could stay out here, on the outskirts of the city, and hope that no Hidden City police patrols found him, but he knew that this wasn't wise. The police force wasn’t exactly known for their efficiency or competence, but that didn't mean he should stay here and simply trust that no one would manage to find him. He could flee to the human world, but the very thought gave him hives. Live amongst those abominations? The scourge of this planet? He’d sooner turn himself over to the Talking Heads themselves.

He had spent quite some time now raking through every possible option, and though none of them were great... he was fairly convinced now that this was his best possible choice. Breathing slowly, he focused his energy in his core, summoning it up through his limbs and allowing it to settle and pool in his gut. Making a portal in this state was rather ambitious, but he didn't have any other reliable or subtle means of transportation, and he had very little time to waste... So it was a price he would simply have to pay.

He could nearly feel the mystic energy trickling from his fingertips like blood from a wound, his brows twitching slightly with the strain as the pitch-black swirl of magicks curled open in front of him, pushing outward like a flower bud blossoming. A soft, whispering hiss filled the air around him, the portal itself trying to beckon him forward and inside, hungry for a guest to escort, shifting the air around him. 

Draxum smiled smugly to himself, letting out a low, heaving breath. Taxing, but achieved easily enough. Even in this weakened state, he was four times the sorcerer than any other wielder in the Hidden City. He stepped confidently through the portal, allowing it to snap shut behind him as his eyes adjusted to the new lighting. 

If he was not safe in the Hidden City, and he could not bear the human world... Then he would live in between the two. 

He would admit, the abandoned sewers of New York were not the most ideal place to rest and regain his mystic power... But it would work for now as a temporary hide-out. He had much work to do.

"Here's what I can offer you."

Yoshi rested his elbows on his thighs, listening intently.

"I give my solemn word that neither I nor any of my employees or associates will pester you or your family. You won't hear a peep from me, snugglykins. The little turtleyboos won't even know I exist."

Okay, a solid start.

"I can also arrange to have everything you'll need to move up tippy-topside. I'm sure there will be lots of questions and paperwork, and as you can imagine, the hotel has people for precisely that kind of prickley-snitch. You'll have all the forged documents, lawyers, and helpful little enchantments you'll need to move everything along smoothly and get this sorted without any sort of tribble."

That was pretty good!

"Lastly, I can give you five Cloaking Crystal bracelets. Top of the line quality, guaranteed to last, complete with anti-removal magicks... and unlimited 24-7 tech support."

Unlimited tech support?! Dang, that was really good!

"All I ask for in return is that you return to the Battle Nexus as my champion."

Yoshi almost choked on his own tongue. "WHAT?!" He spat, spluttering and coughing for a moment. "Are you crazy!?"

"Oh, come now. I think that's more than generous," she tsked in return, crossing her forearms. "And because I have a soft spot for my cuddle muffin, I'll even be willing to take an I-O-U. I'll give you and your turtleyboos five whole years to bauble about New York together before I collect and you come back to work for me."

Yoshi gaped. "Five years!? Five years is not nearly enough time!"

"I should think five years is plenty!" She protested. "That's more than enough time to get them adjusted to all the bafflegab of the city and arrange for new guardianship."

"They're children!" Yoshi floundered. "I knew you would do this! Always has to be something in it for you!!!... My Battle Nexus days are behind me! I have made that very clear!"

"Those are my terms."

"There has to be something else you want! Look-- there will be royalties, once I get back to the surface, lots of them, I'm sure--! I can pay you."

"No."

"We could arrange a monthly fee--"

"I have no interest in your money, dearheart," she hummed. "I have plenty of money. And besides that, nothing you can offer me will be even near as much as what you'll make me when you're my fabtabulous champion again!" She grinned at him, looking almost predatory. “I don’t want your money. I want you.”

"Please. There has to be something else."

"I'm afraid this is the only deal I can offer you, flutterbum," Big Mama replied cooly. "Take it or leave it."

Yoshi balled his hands into fists, resisting a growl of frustration. How could he possibly agree to this? Even putting aside how the thought of returning to the Battle Nexus filled him with terror, he couldn’t leave his sons to grow up without a parent! How could he ever bring himself to abandon his children…?

His mind flipped through every alternative he could possibly conjure. In the time that the two of them sat together in silence in the Luxury Box, Yoshi ran through half a million different schemes, plans, and possibilities. But every single one came up blank. 

How could he bring himself to walk away from his children’s chance at a real life?

“... Eighteen years,” he said. That was enough to see Mikey through to college. 

“Eighteen? Aren’t we feeling optimistic!” Big Mama laughed aloud. “Let’s not waste our time on bafflegab, sweetheart. The highest I’ll go is ten.”

“Sixteen.”

“Twelve.”

“Fourteen.”

“Thirteen.”

“Fourteen,” Yoshi pressed. His youngest was four. At the very least, he wanted them all to be legal adults before he left. It would be easier that way. 

Big Mama stayed quiet for a bit, humming softly and narrowing her eyes. Yoshi resisted the urge to fidget in place. God, what was he doing?... He didn’t even know if she’d agree to this. Fourteen years was a long time. And he wasn’t exactly young, even now, already creeping into his forties (good lord,) would she even still want him in fourteen years?...

“... Fine," she finally said. “But I reserve the right to begin advertisement for the eventual re-launch of your career as I see fit. Agreed?”

Yoshi blinked slowly.

She was willing to take the deal.

He took a long, deep breath, holding it for several seconds, and then let it back out.

He could not walk away from his children’s only chance at a real life.

“Agreed.”

The Luxury Box had changed again since Yoshi had been here last. She had replaced the couch entirely this time. The new one was red velvet. 

“Well, fancy you dropping by!” Big Mama hummed, seeming absolutely tickled by his presence. “I don’t suppose this has anything to do with that whole hullabaloo with Draxy, does it, huggypoo?”

Yoshi bristled, clenching his fists. His mind raced, looking for anywhere else he could turn to besides where he currently was. But he still wasn’t finding any good answers.

“...You promised that my children would be safe. That was part of our deal.”

“Nice try, dearheart, but I do believe that the deal was that your children would be safe from me," she corrected primly, offering him a cool smile and crossing one leg over the other. Somehow this was worse than when she was a big spider. “And I haven’t touched a single hair on the little turtleyboos’ heads, now have I?”

Yoshi frowned. He knew she was right. He knew that that had always been the deal. He just hoped that, maybe, she had forgotten…

Maybe this would be easy.

“I know you are far more connected to the city than the police are.” She employed most of them, after all. “Do you have any word…?”

“No progress yet, I’m afraid. Draxy dearest is still at large, and beyond that little report you put in, there are no leads yet.” Yoshi winced, grinding his teeth. Of course… A little part of him said, maybe she’s lying, but he knew that was just hopeful optimism. “I see you two already caught up,” she remarked with a tiny smile.

Yoshi grumbled, knowing that all the various bruises and scrapes were probably starting to turn brilliant shades of purple and blue, red and orange, slowly discoloring at each former point of contact.

“He came after my sons.”

“Hmmm. That’s a shame,” Big Mama said, not sounding the least bit concerned as she sipped at her tea. “And you just decided to pop in for a visit while you were in the neighborhood, is that it…?”

This was a game to her. Yoshi knew that. But that didn’t stop it from frustrating the hell out of him.

“... My children are in danger.”

“And I suppose you want me to do something about that, don’t you?” She questioned, throwing him a glance. Yoshi frowned but did not reply. “A bit bold to ask me for more help, when you still haven’t even paid me back for the last time.”

“Look. I have money. I have mystic artifacts! I have ancient scrolls with unhelpful glowy guys in them if you want!”

Big Mama laughed. “Huggypoo, I’ve already told you what I want,” she told him, and Yoshi’s heart sank. “I’ll tell you what,” she continued, setting her teacup down in its saucer, the china clicking together very softly. “I can make arrangements to ensure the safety of your little turtleyboos. Between my guards and my magicks, Draxxy won’t be able to touch them, and they won’t be even a nudge the wiser. And, in return…”

Her smile grew wider.

“We can move the timeline of our last deal up a smidge. That sounds fair, wouldn’t you say?”

Chapter Text

It had been three days now since they last saw their dad.

On the first night, over and over, everyone kept saying, ‘I’m sure he’ll be home any minute. He’s more than capable of defending himself. He wouldn’t just disappear. Any second now,’ and the only reason that Mikey had been able to get himself to sleep that night was because he thought that maybe when he woke up again, Dad would be back. He wanted to just skip forward to the good part. But then when he woke up, the good part wasn’t there.

The following morning, Mrs. O’Neil was in the kitchen making breakfast, with the blankets all folded up neat on the couch as if she hadn’t slept there that night. April helped set the table, as if this were normal, as if she hadn’t slept on a bean bag in the Lair, as if they were meant to be here and it made sense for them to be carefully preparing for a big pancake breakfast instead of wolfing down bagels and granola bars in a chaotic frenzy, attempting to make it out the door on time.

It wasn’t like Mikey didn’t appreciate it. He did. It was nice, the gentle looks, the backrubs, the hugs… But it felt weird. Alien, almost. And yet, even with things being so starkly different, even with the five of them staying home from school, staying home from activities, in this absolute jarring contrast to their normal routine, at the same time, there were still these moments that felt so… untouched. Leo and April made bad puns when the opportunity arose like they always did. Raph physically picked up and moved them when they were in his way or getting on his nerves, like usual. Donnie took the time to check up on all of his houseplants, watering anyone who needed it. Some memes were sent to the group chat. Leo and Raph got in a fight over the last raspberry popsicle in the freezer. 

There were moments where Mikey could almost look around and pretend like everything was normal. Dad just wasn’t home right now, and that was all. There were all these beats and steps that just weren’t colored by this horrible thing at all, in this weird way that Mikey wasn’t expecting.

But just on the surface level.

Because no. Dad isn’t just out getting groceries or meeting with an agent or picking up takeout. Dad isn’t here. And they don’t know where he is. 

They had already discovered, on that very first night, that Dad’s cell phone was left in his bedroom. They had obviously all tried texting and calling him about eighty times each, with no response, and eventually found the phone, plugged into its charger on his nightstand. They tried guessing the passcode, but none of them knew it, so they had all looked at Donnie. They said that they would figure it out and pocketed the device. And aside from coming down to care for their plants and grab some banana pancakes, they hadn’t been down from their room since.

They spent most of the first day making calls. They contacted everyone that they could think of. Dad’s agent, his lawyers, any friends or acquaintances he knew. They called each and every one of his dojo locations. Anyone whose number they could find who they had ever known to speak with Dad, they contacted, asking them if they had seen him, heard from him, had anyone idea who the masked guy could be? And over and over they heard, no, sorry. We haven’t seen him. We haven’t heard from him. We don’t know anything about this stranger. We’ll keep an eye out and let you know right away if anything changes. Dead end. Dead end. Dead end.

They texted people, they sent emails, they combed the internet for anything that might be helpful, but they didn’t find anything. The whole group, Mrs. O’Neil and even Donnie included (Mrs. O’Neil, I mean, Carol, made them come. Mikey thought that it was probably because they were nervous about anyone being alone after… you know,) took multiple walks around the neighborhood, the neighborhood next over, and the neighborhood next over to that, looking for any sign of their father.

On the second day, Mikey made posters, and they started hanging those up when they did their walks. Word was starting to spread, and Mikey kept getting texts on his phone-- friends from school, friends from dance, friends from sports, friends of friends… At first, Mikey would reply to all of them. Would say, oh, thank you so much for reaching out, we really appreciate it, please, if you see him at all, let us know… But that rapidly became exhausting. After the first ten, Mikey took to just copy-and-pasting the same message asking them to look, along with an image of the poster he had made. And even just that was exhausting. What was he supposed to say? ‘Everything is horrible and I have no idea how I’m feeling right now, I’m just overwhelmed and terrified-- thanks tho, melting face emoji?’

Donnie got into Dad’s phone but didn’t find anything useful. They sent out emails and texts to every contact he had saved, even though they didn’t recognize half of them, and posted on every social media that he had. All four of them posted on their social media, too. Mikey made a TikTok video reaching out to 350k of his followers. He kept all his notifications on, hoping and waiting that someone would message him telling him that they had seen him and he was okay… but it didn’t come. There was a flood of empathetic comments, of thoughts and prayers, of heart emojis. But nothing that would help them. He and his brothers posted on every Lou Jitsu fan forum that they could find, but they got much of the same there, too.

And now it had been three days. Three days was a long, long time. Ever since that first night, Mikey couldn’t really sleep. He knew his siblings couldn’t, either, and he anxiously fussed over them whenever he could, trying to encourage them to get some rest. Especially Leo. He hardly ever slept even on a good day-- now he kind of just seemed more and more like a wreck as time passed. All of them did. 

It was on the third day that Mrs. O'Neil got a phone call. Well-- she had been on the phone on-and-off ever since she got here that first night, making calls and taking them, even more than they had. But this phone call, in particular, went a little like this:

"Hello?" 

"Yes, this is she."

"What?"

"No, I'm sorry."

"No."

"Yes, I'm absolutely certain. No. No, we're not accepting any interview requests right now. I'm not sure you do understand. With all due respect, I'm not putting any of these kids on TV right now. Yes, I'm quite sure."

"Yes."

"You have a great day, too. Goodbye."

Mikey knew that all four of his siblings were listening, but Leo was the first one to speak once Carol hung up the phone.

"Who was that?" 

"A reporter," Carol sighed in response. They had barely exchanged five words and she already seemed exhausted with this conversation.

"What did they want?"

Carol pursed her lips. "They were asking about doing a live interview or bringing you guys on their talk show. I told them we weren't interested."

"Why would you tell them that?"

"Because we're not."

"Uhm. Maybe you're not," Leo corrected, his brows furrowing. "Why the hell can't I do an interview? I can do interviews! I've done interviews before! I'm great at interviews."

"It's not a good idea, Leo," Carol said, putting her phone down, turning her attention back to her laptop in front of her, beginning to type again. Oof. That was gonna piss Leo off.

"Why not?!" Leo demanded, growing pissed off. "I've done interviews before! I've done live shows! I could totally handle this! Besides, we're trying to get the word out to as many people as possible. What if someone saw the interview and knew where Dad was? This could help!"

"This isn't up for debate, Leo. I'm not putting any of you kids on a talk show right now."

"Why is it your decision!? I'm the one who would be on the show! Why don't I get to decide?"

"Because I'm the adult," Carol was still a step away from snapping, but her voice was hard, definitive. "I just said this isn't up for debate. I'm sorry, but it's off the table. It's not a good idea."

Mikey looked nervously at his brother, wondering if he should say something. Raph looked like he was about to, but Leo huffed, rolling his eyes and getting to his feet. "Fine," he hissed in reply, promptly moving to the front door and beginning to put on his shoes.

 "Where are you going?" Carol questioned, frowning a bit.

"Gymnastics."

"Leo--"

"I'm sick of sitting around here not doing anything! It's driving me crazy. We have gymnastics practice right now. I'm going to gymnastics. Mikey, are you coming?"

Mikey jumped when eyes shifted to him, floundering for a second. If he was being totally honest, he wasn't exactly in a gymnastics mood, but... he knew that Mrs. O'Neil wasn't gonna let Leo go by himself. And there was no way he was gonna convince Donnie to even leave his room, let alone go to gymnastics practice. Maybe... it would be good? Get his mind off of things?

"Yeah. Uh. I'll come. Let me grab my stuff. Hang on," he said, jumping to his feet and scampering off to grab their gymnastics bags-- packed and ready to go in the hallway, like they always were, like they didn't know anything was wrong. 

"Leo, I don't know if this is--"

"I'm not going alone, Mikey is with me. There's gonna be adults there. We'll get a taxi cab home when it gets dark. I'm not gonna sit here twiddling my thumbs anymore. I'm gonna go insane," Leo spoke over her, and Mikey thought privately to himself that that was rather ballsy. Leo must really be upset because usually none of them would dare interrupt Mrs. O'Neil. He hurried to get his shoes on, hoping that they could escape before things got too heated. Sorry April, sorry Raph. 

"Ready, Mikey?"

"Yeah… yeah, I'm ready. Let's go." 

April was trying really hard to be patient with her brothers right now, 'cause she knew that they were having a hard time. I mean, if either of her parents went missing, she'd probably be behaving less than her best, too. Raph was clingier than ever, and April had had to talk him off the metaphorical ledge about five times now, Donnie had turned into a total hermit, even by Donnie standards, Leo was honestly being kind of a brat, and Mikey was...

Ugh. God. Mikey. He was such a sweetheart. He was killing himself, April could tell. Even more than she was killing herself right now. She would have to corner him later. Right after she cornered Leo.

And kicked his ass.

Look, she got where he was coming from, but did he really need to tick her mom off like that!? And then leave her to deal with it?! She knew her mom was mostly just worried, (and, okay, maybe also kind of peeved, but April could only kind of blame her,) but that didn't make it any more pleasant. And once she managed to settle her down, she had to deal with Raph, too. 

 If her mom was freaked out, then Raph was about ready to lose his mind. April half thought he was gonna take off after Leo and Mikey on foot any second now. April sank into the couch next to him, bodily draping herself over his lap to make sure he didn't go anywhere.

"Hey Big Guy," she said, blinking up at him, forcing a half-hearted smile. "How you holding up?"

"Me?" Raph said, just barely glancing down at her before his eyes snapped away again, anxious and flighty. "I'm fine. Raph's fine. How are you holding up?"

God, they were all so predictable. April privately thought that self-sacrifice must be a Hamato tradition. It was simply a question of which one of them could outdo the rest.

"You're a bad liar. You're as bad as Mikey. As bad as Donnie ."

"What?!" Raph squawked in protest. "I am not as bad as Donnie! No one's as bad as Donnie!"

"Okay, well, maybe not that bad," April relented. "Leo and Mikey are gonna be fine. They're taking the subway in broad daylight. They're only gonna be, like, ten minutes away. They both had their phones and they already said they'll take a taxi cab home. It's okay."

"I know," Raph said, wrinkling up his nose. "It's just-- I mean. What if somethin' bad happens to 'em? And I'm not there to help?" 

"You know it's not your fault, right?"

There was a telling silence.

"Raph. It's not your job to protect your Dad from creepy stalker fans. And you couldn't have done anything."

"I know," Raph relented, frowning a little. And it wasn't that April didn't believe him, but... There was a difference between knowing and knowing. April knew that perfectly well. Raph might be the biggest brother, but she was the biggest sister, and... okay, she wasn't gonna sit here and delude herself into thinking that she could have physically stopped that guy if she had just moved a little faster. She wasn't a martial arts champion like the rest of them, (even if she did have a mean left hook and an even meaner softball swing.) But she hated... watching them fall apart. She hated watching all of them shrivel up under the stress. She hated that she couldn't fix this for them... Or at least make it a little easier.

And she was worried too. Mr. Hamato might not be her dad, exactly, but... this was her family, too. She had known Yoshi since she was five! She used to spend every afternoon after school at their house, and they would spend the weekends at hers. She couldn't even count how many slumber parties and sleepovers they had had over the years. Raph, Donnie, Leo, and Mikey were like her brothers, and Yoshi was, like... her weird uncle or something.

She really hoped he was okay. And that he'd be back soon.

"Nothing bad is gonna happen. They'll go to gymnastics, they'll blow off some steam, they'll come home, and maybe Leo will be less of a headache for the rest of the evening," she said with a sigh. "Maybe he's got a point! You guys aren't used to being cooped up for so long."

"I guess," Raph said, seeming unconvinced, though he leaned back a little into the cushions, slumping a bit. April would take even the littlest victory. 

"You could probably use a distraction too."

"Mmm..."

"Sooo... You could paint my nails for me? I'll paint yours back," she offered, raising a brow. He had to take the bait here. This always worked. The boys loved getting their nails painted. Especially Raph, since he was so bad at doing his own. He was okay if he was working on someone else, but if it was a solo project, that right hand just never quite turned out right.

It took a moment, and for a moment April thought he might actually turn her down, but eventually, he sighed and relented. "Okay, fine," he agreed. "But Raph gets to pick the colors this time."

Thank god for small miracles. He could pick whatever color he wanted.

Mikey had never noticed how loud the gym was before.

Usually, it didn't bother him. But today? It was just... so much noise. Every thump of a landed flip echoing through the padded floor, reverberating, every shout, every stomp, every clap of chalk on hands... It seemed to travel right through his bones.

He was waiting for it to wear off. 

Their instructor had seemed... surprised to see them, especially since they had gotten there a half-hour late, but hadn't protested or turned them away, much to Mikey's relief. Well, initially it had been relief, but now he wasn't so sure. Usually, he adored gymnastics. It was easily one of his favorite hobbies, (tied between ballet, painting, cooking, yoga, hip-hop, and skateboarding,) but there was something... off today. Every movement seemed just a beat behind reality, as if he himself were lagging somehow, like the connection was slow. His head felt fuzzy.

Every second they were here felt so odd. Everyone was just... working. Doing gymnastics. Practicing back-flips and floor routines. Mikey wanted to scream at everyone. How could they all just act like this when their dad was missing? How could they pretend like things were okay and just keep moving through life? Every person they passed on the walk here, every passenger on the subway, the receptionist at the front desk, he wanted to grab them by the front of their shirts and wail to them and explain everything. 

How could people just live? How could so many people just not know that their dad was gone and might not ever come back?

Mikey had been working on his high bar routine for almost forty minutes now, and he still wasn't getting it right. Usually, this was easy. It wasn't even that hard of a routine, not compared to some of the other things he had done before. But every single time he made another go at it, he missed a beat or moved the wrong way, his brain blanking out on the next step, and he'd have to start over again, gritting his teeth and telling himself he'd get it right this time. The chalk on his hands itched. He was forming a blister. Blisters had never bothered him before.

His coach was being so patient. So sweet, repeatedly telling him it was okay, he could just try again, but it wasn't okay. He wanted to yell at her, too, that they both knew he could do better than this. But he didn't. He just thanked her and nodded his head and kept going.

Leo was over at the vault. He could see him from here. From what he could see, he was doing fine. He wasn't missing any turns or freezing up or losing his balance. He was doing great. His routine looked perfect. Why was he doing so perfect? What was wrong with him? If the problem wasn't Dad, if it wasn't affecting Leo, then it had to be--

Mikey's hand missed the bar. He never missed the bar. He didn't swing far enough and his hand didn't make contact. 

He missed. He fell.

He never fell.

It didn't hurt. They had all this matting for a reason. For exactly this reason, in fact. There wasn't even any heavy thud of contact, no wind got knocked out of him, he just flopped sadly down on his back on the padding, bouncing a tiny bit, staring up at the bars above him.

He fell down. He never fell down. He missed. He never missed the bars. 

He knew he needed to get up. He should try again. If he didn't move, people would worry, or think he was hurt or something. But every time he told himself to sit up, his body didn't quite listen. 

After a few minutes of staring at the ceiling, his older brother's face came into view. He had been expecting a coach. He wasn't sure if Leo was better or worse.

"Well that wasn't very razzmatazz," Leo remarked with a grin, leaning over and offering a hand to the other. "Here, c'mon. I'll help you up."

Mikey sniffled a tiny bit. His body didn't listen when he told it to grab Leo's hand, either.

"I wanna go home," he finally got his mouth to move.

"What?" Leo immediately protested. "Oh, come on, little brother, we just got here. We've still got two hours left of gym time! You love gymnastics. You're not gonna let one little fall get to you, are ya?"

"I wanna go home," Mikey repeated, because he didn't know what else to say. His voice sounded horrible. What was the matter with him? This wasn’t even what he wanted to be saying. He didn't want to talk to Leo like this. He did love gymnastics. This wasn't him! He didn't act this way. Why was he acting this way? He blinked rapidly, hoping that it would help somehow.

He didn't want to look at Leo anymore, so he didn't. But he heard him sigh. He felt the gym mat shift as Leo slowly moved to lay down next to him, until both of them were staring up at the ceiling like silly little animals stuck on their backs, unable to flip back over.

Like...

I dunno, like beetles or something.

"We can go home if you want to, Mikey," Leo said, and Mikey hiccuped softly, wrinkling up his nose.

"Sorry," he bit out. "... We c-can stay if you want. I can stay."

"Nah. It's fine. We should go home," Leo repeated, finding Mikey’s hand and squeezing it shortly. "Sorry. For dragging you out."

Mikey shook his head, sniffling a bit. Ugh, crying on your back sucked. His nose was all full of gunk. 

"I like gymnastics," he said weakly, and Leo laughed.

"Yeah, I know. That's 'cause you're really good at it."

Mikey nodded kind of numbly, crossing his arms over his chest, clinging to himself slightly. 

"Everyone is acting like nothing's wrong," Mikey whispered.

"Yeah," Leo sighed through his nose. "It's weird, right? I keep seeing people on the street and being like... Oh my god. They don't even know. They have no idea. And, like, I don't even know what's going on with them, either. Like. You know that lady we sat next to on the subway? I kept thinking, I dunno, maybe her dad went missing once, too, and we don't even know. How much shit do we just not know?"

"Leo, what if he doesn't come back?"

It wasn't like Leo was bad at hugs. It's just that he wasn't as good at hugs as everyone else. There was a very clear ranking, and yes, Mikey did keep track, like a reasonable person. At the very top of the ranking, obviously, was Raph. Raph gave the best hugs-- He scooped you up and swung you around and you got all squished and squeezed in the best way possible. Absolutely top-tier. Second best hugs were Dad, because, well, they were Dad Hugs. Dad Hugs had a special quality to them. He really didn't think he had to explain himself any further. Next up was Donnie, not necessarily because Donnie was good at hugging or anything, but just because he was so rarely down for hugs that every time he got one it was special. It felt like he was winning something-- especially since he got Donnie hugs more than anyone else in the family. April hugs were next, because while she gave really good hugs, and she always let him cling to her for as long as he wanted, her glasses could be a bit pokey at times. And then Leo brought in the rear-- not because he was bad at them, but just because the competition was so stiff.

But this was a really, really good hug. Two really's.

The absolute second Leo had him wrapped up in his arms, Mikey just dissolved into sobs, before he even had a proper chance to try not to. He was just so tired of feeling scared like this. If Dad wasn't going to come back, could they just know already?! He hated waiting. He hated not knowing! He just wanted to tear the band-aid off so that he could mourn and then get better. This was worse than their Dad being dead, he thought to himself. He almost wished that he was just dead, and that this could at least be over. Wasn't that horrible...? How could he feel that way?

 He was pretty sure Leo was crying, too, but he couldn't really tell for sure. He was clinging way too tight to see anything. 

"It'll be alright, Mikey," Leo's voice was muffled, but he could hear him all the same. "We'll be okay. Dad would never stay away from us on purpose. We'll figure it out."

They had been getting a lot of takeout since Dad went missing. No one really felt like cooking-- not even Mikey, and Leo couldn't even blame him. He wouldn't wanna cook, either. He barely even wanted to eat. And there was pizza in front of him. That was a big deal.

 This was their third Jupiter Jim movie marathon night in a row, but Leo wasn't the least bit excited. He was trying hard to pretend like he cared about which title they put on, to keep up with all the running jokes they had, to pay attention, but his heart wasn't in it. No one else's was, either, he knew. They hadn't even been able to convince Donnie to come out of his room and join them since the first night, much to his frustration.

 It was all just distraction. They were just smoke-screening themselves to pretend like everything wasn't awful, and frankly, Leo wasn't even sure who it was benefitting anymore. Clearly not Mikey. He had gotten it back together by the time they started heading home from gymnastics and had made Leo swear to secrecy, insisting that he 'didn't wanna worry anyone.' Leo had told him that that was stupid, that everyone was already worrying anyway, and pretending like he was fine wasn't gonna make a difference, but if he was being honest, he and the rest of the family rarely won any arguments against Mikey, so... 'keep it between them' it was. 

It was stupid. He wasn't fooling anyone. None of them were. 

And yet here he was, playing pretend right along with them anyway. He was such an idiot. 

As was rapidly becoming routine, they all stayed up long enough to watch three Jupiter Jim movies while eating whatever dinner had been ordered that night before everyone headed off to bed, saying keywords and phrases like 'I dunno about you guys, but I’m exhausted' and 'it’s getting pretty late,' etc etc, even though Leo was pretty sure no one was sleeping. He certainly wasn't. And he was really trying. He swore he was, but... 

Even under the best of circumstances, sleeping was hard. He had never understood how Dad or Mikey could just fall asleep the way they did, laying their heads down on their pillows and almost instantly drifting off. Sleeping involved so much work, so much effort, that sometimes it just felt easier to call the night a wash, take the all-nighter and go from there. Yes, he had tried meditating. Yes, he had tried Melatonin. He had tried sleep podcasts, white noise machines, drugs, music-- he swore he had tried it all! And none of it fixed the problem. Some of it helped, sure, but nothing consistently guaranteed him a full night's rest. Every night it was just a roll of the dice; a total blind bag. Some nights, he would sleep, and some nights, he wouldn't. It was anyone's guess.

Including his.

He wouldn't have put money on going to sleep that night. But he did.

He had no idea what made him realize that he was dreaming, but at some point, he did. He couldn't even tell you what had been happening before that point, because now, he didn't remember. Had he been outside? It had been cold. It had been dark, and there was water nearby, but he didn't think he had been outside. Somewhere else, but... He wasn't sure where.

But now, he was in their house. Right in their living room. Leo frowned a bit, looking around slowly. It was odd for their house to be this quiet. 

He paused, looking at the family pictures hanging on the walls in abundance. Someone had written something on them in black marker, but he couldn't read it. It was in plain English, but he had no idea what it said. He leaned in a bit closer, narrowing his eyes, trying to translate, when a cry ripped his attention away.

"Blue!"

He knew that voice. Eyes widening, Leo whipped around to face his father-- on the ground not more than five feet away, pinned beneath some hulking stranger with jagged horns erupting from their head, their eyes glowing white and their jaws dripping with foamy blood.

"Dad?! Hang on!" He tried to jump forward, to reach out for him, but his legs wouldn't move. Why wouldn't his legs move?! His dad was right there-- right there in front of him! He could help him! He could save him, so why wasn't anything working?!

"Blue!" The same howl tore through his mind, and Leo hissed, clapping his hands over his ears as if that would help. He didn't want to watch. He didn't want to watch this creature kill his father-- he couldn't do it. 

This is a dream, he reminded himself. You're dreaming. If you don’t want to watch, then you have to wake up. Wake up. Wake up now!

He could see it-- almost feel it-- his own body laid out on his bed back in the waking world, curled up on his stomach, his cheek to his pillow. He knew exactly where he was. He could see his room. He knew he was dreaming, so why couldn't he wake up? He couldn't get his body to move at all, repeatedly trying to sit up, to open his eyes, to jolt a limb to the side to no avail. The pitch of the screams shifted higher.

"Come on! Wake up already! I know you can hear me!" He cried, gritting his teeth. He knocked his fists angrily against the side of his head. "Move. We have to move!" He bit down hard on the inside of his cheek, tasting blood, and he wasn't sure if that was his dream self or his actual self. How was he supposed to tell the difference? "Move!"

Leo startled awake, his head jerking upwards and his limbs splaying outward in surprise. The entire house was quiet. Right... because it's the middle of the night. Because he was dreaming.

He had just been dreaming, and now he was awake. It was fine. He was fine.

Slowly, he sat up, running his hands through his hair with a sigh, rolling his head a few times to try to work the stiffness of his neck. He reached for his phone, knowing it would be plugged in on his nightstand, except... It wasn't there. 

 Leo frowned a little bit, wrinkling up his brows. His phone wasn't there. In fact, his nightstand wasn't there either. His bed wasn't even there, he realized with a start. He wasn't in his own room. He was on the floor-- the floor of-- somewhere else in the house, he guessed. How the hell did he get here? Had he sleepwalked? That was new.

 He noted, vaguely, that whatever room he was in wasn't nearly as dark as he would have expected. There was this warm golden-orange glow blanketing the room like a nightlight, and Leo thought vaguely that someone must have accidentally left a desk lamp on or something, turning to take a look.

He had not been expecting to see his youngest brother floating half a foot above his own bed. Nor for him to be glowing.

Chapter Text

"Mikey."

Hm...?

"Mikey!"

Couldn't they tell he was sleeping right now...? He was having a really good dream... Just... Five more minutes...

"MIKEY!"

Ah! Okay!!! He was up!

Mikey kind of squeaked in surprise, flopping down on his bed a lot harder than he was expecting. In fact, he hadn't been expecting to flop down on his bed at all. And what was Leo doing in his room? He kind of blinked, a bit dazed for a moment, staring at his brother.

"... Did something happen?" He asked after a second, still a bit out of it. What was going on? He had been dreaming, he remembered, which was not unusual for him. He dreamed almost every night, for as long as he could remember. He and Dad had been cooking together... They were making something, but he couldn't remember what now, the dream already fading away, retreating to the corners of his mind... But he had been so excited, and his dad had...

Oh. Right.

Dad wasn't here. Dad was missing. Mikey's expression dropped as the memory came back to him, and he lost Dad all over again, all the grief and anxiety and fear coming crashing back. 

He hadn't enjoyed dreaming as much lately.

"Uhm, yeah something happened!" Leo all but shrieked, his eyes blown up wide. "You were floating! And glowing!"

Mikey blinked slowly at him. "... What?" He said after a minute. "Uhm. Leo. Are you okay? And... what are you doing in my room?"

"I don't-- I-- that's not the point!" Leo snapped, his face flushing dark as he scowled. "The point is that you were doing spooky magic stuff in your sleep! Which is definitely not normal! What the hell is going on?! Did you do that on purpose?! Are you possessed by a demon!? I told you to stop going on that Reddit forum!"

"What?" Mikey gawked, his brows furrowed. "What are you even talking about? And what Reddit forum?"

"The one with the guy! And the pan?"

"... The hundred coats of seasonings guy?"

"Yeah! That one!"

"You think that the hundred coats of seasonings cast iron pan guy possessed me like a demon?"

"I'm saying that that kind of behavior is clearly of the devil!!!" Leo cried. "I mean, come on! A hundred coats?! And also that you were definitely floating a second ago!!!"

"Uh..." Mikey frowned a bit, his brows furrowing. This was... not really in-character behavior for Leo. Was lack of sleep finally getting to him? He did seem pretty convinced about this whole 'floating and glowing' thing, and... well... things had been kind of weird recently. His mind wandered vaguely back to his notebook, may it rest in pieces, and he bit the insides of his cheeks.

But floating? Glowing?

"Do you think maybe you were dreaming, Leo?" He ventured after a moment, tilting his head to the side.

"What?! No! I was not dreaming! I mean-- I was, before, but I mean, I wasn't during that part! I woke up! I swear!"

"Are you sure?" Mikey said, doubt beginning to creep into his voice, despite his best efforts at keeping things level. "'Cause, I mean, I know we're all kind of stressed..."

"Look, I know what I saw, okay!" Leo insisted. "Everything was... orange! It was like you ate a bunch of freaking fireflies or something! You were in the air! And, like, okay, yes, maybe, I had a crazy dream also, and I guess I must have sleepwalked in here, which is weird but that doesn't mean-- I know what I saw! There's no way I imagined that, Mikey, there's just no way--"

Mikey listened for a while, all droopy-eyed, still half-asleep, before he slowly scooted over to the far side of his bed, pulling open the covers for the other.

Leo groaned loudly in frustration, dragging his hands down his face and glaring at him for a moment. Mikey was afraid he was gonna have to argue, which he was not awake enough to do, before Leo finally climbed into bed with his brother, all grumpy and indignant as he did so.

"This is not over."

"Mmhmmm..."

"We're not done talking about this, Miguelito."

"Mmm..."

"I know what I saw. And this is not an admission of wrongness, either! I am doing this for your sake!"

"Leo. Shut up."

 Leonardo grumbled loudly, rolling over onto his side, the two of them comfortably back to back under the covers, but thankfully, for once, did as he was told.

“Dad,” Leo whispered excitedly, hoisting himself up onto their father’s bed by the sheets. It took a few tries, but eventually, he managed to get himself up there, scrabbling up to the surface and scooting across the mattress so that he could shake his dad’s shoulders. “Dad. Dad!!!”

He watched his father startle slightly as he was awoken, his eyes bleary as he stared at his child, mouth agape. “Hm…? Wha…?”

“Dad! It’s really important.”

“Wha… what is it, Blue?” Dad mumbled softly, smacking his lips a few times, but still rolling over in bed so that he could face his son properly. “What do you need?”

“What comes after seventy-nine?”

His dad blinked slowly, fighting to keep his eyes open. “What?”

“What number comes after seventy-nine? I forgot.”

Dad mumbled softly, taking a moment before he finally responded. “... Eighty. Like how eight comes after seven, remember, my son…?”

“OH! Yeah! Eighty!!!”

“Yes. Eighty.”

“I was counting the stuff on the fish poster.”

“Mmmm…”

“‘Cause I couldn’t sleep.”

“Mmm-hmmm…”

“And ‘member, ‘cause, you said, uh, you said before that if I couldn’t sleep, I should try counting stuff? So I was counting all the different things on the, uhm, the fish poster, with the shark on it. That’s my favorite poster. It’s better than the basketball one, even. Donnie agrees. But, and, and I was counting it and I got all the way up to seventy-nine!” Leo declared proudly. “But then I forgot what came next. There’s still more stuff on the poster.”

“Mmmm… very good, Blue…”

“Yeah,” Leo said, beginning to pull some of the covers aside. His dad grumbled a bit, but his eyes were already closed again. “I’ve never counted up that big before all by myself.”

“Very impressive…”

“Do you think I can get to a hundred?” Leo questioned, burrowing in with his father, pulling the blankets back up over both of them. “All by myself?”

“Mmm-hmmm…”

“Donnie can count to a’hundred. And then even higher than that!”

“Mmmm…”

“I wanna do it, too,”  Leo whispered, curling up small, tucking himself up against his Dad’s side and clinging to him slightly. His feet were kind of cold from the walk over, so he pressed them up against his dad’s legs to warm them back up. “It’s gonna be so awesome…”

“Mmmm.”

“... Dad?”

“Mmm?”

“Do you think there’s a whole hundred things on the fish poster for me to count? Or will I run out? ‘Cause I don’t know exactly how many is on there. Just that it’s more than seventy-nine.”

“Leonardo…”

“Uh-huh?”

“Go to sleep,” Dad mumbled tiredly, wrapping an arm around his child, squeezing him tight. “I am sure things will work out. Right now, just sleep.”

---

April was not expecting to get jumped before she even made it to the breakfast table. She wasn't exactly excited about it, either, stumbling a bit as Leo grabbed her by the arm, yanking her down the hallway to literally corner her. Hey now, wait a minute-- this had been her plan!

"April, something's wrong with Mikey," Leo hissed fervently under his breath, his eyes narrowed into slits, and April's heart fell into her stomach.

"What happened?!" She immediately demanded, her eyes wide, a million possibilities flying through her head. Oh god, she knew she should have kept a closer eye on him-- she knew he was more upset than he was letting on and yet she still--!

"I caught him floating above his bed last night. And glowing! Like the freakin' exorcist or something!"

April's expression rapidly shifted.

"Okay, I know you did not just give me a heart attack for no goddamn reason Hamato Leonardo."

"What?!"

"This is not funny! I thought something really bad actually happened!"

"I'm being serious! Come on, April, you have to believe me!"

"Uhm. Okay. Well, first of all, let the record show that I do not have to do anything," April scoffed, placing a hand on her hip, giving the other a rather unimpressed look. "Second of all, while we’re here, let the record also show that I also do not appreciate you picking a fight with my mom yesterday!"

"ME?!" Leo gaped, his brows raising up. "I didn't pick a fight with her! She picked a fight with me! "

"What! She did--"

"Look, this is so not the issue! April, I'm being serious! I saw Mikey floating last night! It was freaky! He was sleeping and he was just, like, hovering over his bed! And I don't know what to do! If I tell Raph, he's just gonna freak out, and you know Donnie will never believe me!" He begged.

April narrowed her eyes. 

"... When's the last time you slept?"

"Oh, come on, April!" Leo groaned, throwing his head back. "I slept last night! I swear! Ask Mikey! I really, really did!"

"Ask Mikey?" April echoed. "Leo, what were you even doing in Mikey's room to begin with?"

"That's. Uh. Well, that's beside the point!"

"Leo."

"This isn't about me--"

"Leo!"

"Okay! Fine! I don't know!" He groaned, wrinkling his nose, squeezing his eyes shut. "I don't remember, okay? I think I was sleepwalking or something, but I really was awake for the Mikey part! Something for real weird is going on with him! Remember when his notebook caught on fire?"

"I thought you guys said that that was a cover story," April said, pursing her lips. "And I hope you know how this sounds, Leo."

"I do, and I know, but now I think... I dunno, maybe it actually happened? I mean-- I just-- I dunno how else to explain this stuff, April! You saw Dad disappear too! You know that wasn't natural, I know that you saw it."

"Look, Leo, I know that you're under a lot of stress, and you don't always sleep very well..."

"April. Please," Leo pressed again, his voice tight and his eyes wide. "Come on. I don't know how to deal with this on my own. I need your help."

April sighed softly, her shoulders slumping a bit as she examined the other's expression. Why did he have to look so goddamn sincere and pathetic...? That just made this so much harder!

... But, as much as she hated to admit it, he... did have a little bit of a point. She had run the scene through her head about a million times now, and she still had no idea what she saw. Yoshi and the intruder had been right in the middle of the room, and then they just weren't. How did something like that happen?

 "... Okay, fine," she relented, frowning as she crossed her arms over her chest. "Let's say I believe you. Which I'm not saying I do! What are we supposed to do about it?" 

 Leo gave a sigh of what might have been relief, pursing his lips slightly. "I dunno," he admitted. "But something weird is going on. So I think we're gonna have to do some digging..." He scrunched up his face. "... And that means we might have to get Donnie on board."

"I thought you said he'd never believe you," April said, knowing that he wouldn't.

"He won't. So we're gonna have to be... creative," Leo said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "C'mon. Let's go."

"Uhm, no? I'm getting breakfast first."

"Ughhh. Seriously? Fine. Breakfast, and then let's go."

Ooh, April was gonna kill this boy. Though she was, admittedly, a lot less inclined towards violence once she had a wildberry poptart in her system. Reluctantly, she followed Leo upstairs to the third floor to rap on Donnie's door. Leo cautiously peeked his head inside, creaking the door open slowly.

"Heeyyyyyy, Donnie...? You up?" The two of them peered into the room where they found their brother, hunched over their computer. They barely even turned to face them before they began signing.

'Leo, if this is about hacking Mrs. O’Neil's phone again, I already told you, you would still have to get parental consent to go on air, you're a minor--'

"What?!" April yelped. Scratch that last part about feeling less violent, she was going to strangle him. "Leo!--"

"HAHAHA, Donnie, I have no idea what you're talking about! This is completely unrelated to that other request that I definitely never made of you!" Leo laughed loudly, swinging the door the rest of the way open and darting his way inside before April could smack him, flitting over to his twin's side as if that might protect him. April growled softly, swinging the door shut behind her as she followed him in. They were so lucky that she was making an effort to be extra nice to them.

'Okay, then, get out of my room?' Donnie suggested dryly, turning back around, their hands returning to their keyboard as soon as they had finished signing, eyes immediately back to their computer screen. Or, computer screens, rather. They had at least five monitors pinned up, all of them doing different things as Donnie tapped away, staring at the glowing screens intensely. April didn't even wanna try to follow whatever the hell they were trying to do, nor think about how much sleep they had been getting recently. At least some. She knew from past experiences that he was not capable of pulling actual all-nighters without his brain turning to straight-up mush. He’d get all loopy and confused, and it was admittedly pretty hilarious, but not very effective. He could, however, get away with two-to-three hours a night and come out the other side functioning, but cranky. She suspected this was the current situation. 

"Well," Leo began, leaning over the desk slightly. April watched Donnie's eyes twitch with annoyance. "We were just wondering, uh, if you had made any progress with your... whatever it is you're doing?"

'No,' Donnie responded coldly, bristling as he glared at their screen. 'If I made any progress, Nardo, I would have told you by now. I haven't found any leads online, I haven't been able to track Dad's smartwatch, I haven't found him on any security footage,' Where was he getting security footage feeds? Actually, nevermind, 'or anything else that's helpful, okay? I'm doing my best! If you have a problem with it, why don't you --'

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, easy! I'm not trying to critique or whatever!" Leo defended, putting up his hands. "I was just thinking, uh... what if… we went through some of Dad's stuff?"

Donnie all but growled, like actually for-real growled, giving Leo a look. Every time they had to stop typing to respond to their twin, they looked just a little bit closer to a crime of passion. 'I just told you, I'm going through Dad's stuff,' they pressed, their ASL sharp and choppy with frustration. 'I've already gone through his social media, through all his files, his emails, I've been through his phone--'

"No, no, I mean, like..." Leo hesitated a second. "Like, his physical stuff. Like... go through his room."

Donnie paused. He frowned a bit, looking Leo up and down suspiciously.

'Why?'

"I don't know. I just. I think maybe we might find something," Leo said. "I mean, we've tried everything else, right? Maybe there's something useful in there."

'Dad wouldn't want us looking through his stuff. The police already looked anyway.'

"Oh, like he'd be tickled about any of the rest of this situation? I think Dad would want to come home!" Leo said, raising a brow. "Maybe the police looked, but those guys are idiots, and we haven't. What if we find something, Donnie? Something actually helpful?”

Okay, that was a pretty good argument, April had to admit. Dee could be pretty hard to reason with once he had made up his mind about something and emotional appeals very rarely worked. But... April glanced over at Donnie out of the corners of her eyes, biting the insides of their cheek. She knew Donnie missed their dad. All of them did. Of course, they all did, and it wasn't like Donnie missed Yoshi any more than their brothers did, that's not what she meant, but...

 Donnie hadn't spoken since he had gone missing. They barely left their room, barely ate, barely slept... All of them were having a hard time. Donnie just... didn't always deal with change and stress that well. This was the longest Donnie had been non-verbal in years, and just...

All she meant was that having some sort of a lead instead of repeatedly banging their head against the wall up here by themselves might be good. And she was sure Donnie knew that, too.

'Fine,' Donnie relented, pushing their chair away from their desk so they could get to their feet, visibly wincing as their joints no doubt protested after being in one position for so long. 'But if I end up mentally scarred, I'm gonna be annoyed.'

Donnie was tired.

They were no stranger to exhaustion, either. They found that it was a common companion. Sure, they were an athlete just like their brothers, and capable of plenty. They rarely found themselves winded or out of breath. The amount of activities and commitments that filled their calendar had always felt reasonable and manageable to them, though they recognized that it would be enough to overwhelm many. Coding marathons and long study sessions didn't bother them.

But sometimes they were just... fucking tired. They hated how quickly they tired as compared to their brothers, but it had been this way their entire life. They'd go to a sci-fi convention, and Donnie would enjoy himself, they'd be happy to be there, but they would just... get so fatigued so quickly. Even with their headphones on and their brothers nearby, even with a carefully planned itinerary of their day, they would still always find themselves exhausted halfway through their trip and lagging behind. Mikey, Leo, and Raph were always raring to go, thrilled at the chance to take on the next thing, and he'd be trudging behind them wishing he could lay down and just take a nap. God forbid they have any change of schedule or inadvertent last-minute plans; then he'd be worn down even quicker.

 The world was a lot to take in. Emotions were a lot. And processing it all took so much out of him. It was frustrating. Especially when they knew they weren't the only one wearing thin right now. They knew full well that everyone was having a hard time. They knew that Leo wasn't sleeping, that Raph was running himself ragged worrying about everything... which was exactly why they had to keep going.

There had to be an answer somewhere. Some way to fix this. Everything had an answer. People didn't just disappear. 

Their dad had to be somewhere. This was just a fact. All he had to do was figure out where.

... Which was proving much more difficult than he had anticipated.

 Usually, he was not one to be dragged into Leo's stupid schemes or plots, but at this point, they were running out of other options. Nothing else they had tried was working, so... desperate times, desperate measures?

And going through their dad's room was certainly a desperate measure.

It wasn't terrible, but it... definitely wasn't clean either. Donnie made a face as the three picked their way in, closing the door behind them and flicking the light on. God, why was there so much dirty laundry all over the place?! Note to self, figure out some kind of solution to avoid this in the future. A modified Roomba, perhaps? Ugh, whatever. Focus.

"Where do we start?" April said, wrinkling her nose and looking around the room.

"I dunno. Just... start going through stuff, I guess. Look for anything weird. There's gotta be something useful," Leo mumbled, stepping forward, beginning to thumb his way through old magazines stacked up on the dresser.

"Are you sure about this, Leo? This feels sort of... wrong," April said, kind of wrapping her arms around herself, clearly having second thoughts. Donnie couldn't say they blamed her. There was a sort of 'ickiness' to this whole thing. They felt a bit like a child going through their mother's purse.

"Look, if either of you has a better idea..." Leo huffed. As Donnie, unfortunately, did not, they got to work, quietly wishing they had brought their gloves with them as they began sifting through their dad's stuff. 

For the most part, they were quiet, only occasionally speaking up (or signing, as the case may be,) to ask a question or grab the others' attention. It wasn't as if there wasn't anything interesting to be found in here, either. There was. There was plenty of interesting stuff. Thus far, the group had uncovered at least one Lou Jitsu body pillow (ew,) a bunch of paperwork that their father had seemingly neglected to actually fill out and submit yet, ("Are these tax forms?") the evidence of at least three crimes that they had thought they had properly disposed of, ("Why is he hiding this from us!? What does he have planned?!") and about a gazillion snacks that he had squirreled away in various hiding places in his room. But, so far... nothing useful.

 "Hey... what about this?" Leo asked after a long period of silence, no sound in the dimly lit room aside from shuffling.

Donnie, who had just been preparing to break into their father’s nightstand, glanced over and gawked for a moment.

'His altar? Seriously, Leo? It's not bad enough that we're rifling through the rest of his stuff, you want to tear apart that, too?'

"I'm not gonna hurt it! But we might as well explore every option!" Leo insisted, shrugging, trying to look casual. Donnie didn't buy it for a moment. "Plus, like... look at this stuff. Some of it is kinda weird, right...?" He mumbled, beginning to grab a few trinkets off the shelf. "Here. Look at this." 

Donnie frowned, but he made his way over anyway, accepting the item Leo pressed into his palm. It was some weird necklace he had never seen before, carved out of porcelain or something, with these symbols painted along the front and sides. It was very pretty, and Donnie was certain if he did his research he could find a fascinating cultural history behind it, but...

None of that was gonna help find their Dad.

Donnie was going to protest, but Leo was already passing a new item into their hand, waving April down with a, "come here, come look at this," and Donatello sighed, resigning themselves to their current position. None of the things Leo had handed them, however, meant anything to them. They were just... things. Things that Donnie could research, sure, but what use could that possibly be here? These were just knick-knacks! They grit their teeth as they sorted through them, growing more and more irate. They were just silly items that their dad collected for sentimental purposes, they had no meaning, there was no secret here for them to unveil, and no way that it was any help in--

Their fingers brushed against a folded scrap of fabric, and their eyes locked on the pattern of red thread sewn along the inside.

Donnie froze.

They recognized that pattern. Setting the other objects aside, he carefully unfolded the fabric, (What was this? An obi?) running his fingers along the seams of it. It was a fairly simple emblem, a circle with stripes running through it like the spokes of a wheel, smaller circles inside of each part. He swallowed hard, leaning in a bit closer. He... recognized this. He had seen it before. Where had he seen it before...?

"... Donnie?" April said, sounding kind of far away. Donnie ignored her. They were busy.

They absolutely racked their memories, pulling desperately at every neuron in their head, reaching into every fold of their mind, trying to figure out where he had seen this, because he knew he had, he was certain of it. This meant something, but he had no idea what. He just... felt like it had to be important. So why couldn't he remember?

Come on. Come on. This is important. I can feel it, they hissed internally, gritting their teeth. 

"Dee? Did you find something?" Decline call. Busy right now. Stop talking. I'm trying to focus. 

We need to know this. I need to be able to understand this. Come on, stupid brain, work! Dad needs us. I have to know this. So tell me what this is! I swear I know--

All at once, the room lit up with a violet glow, this dazzling gleam flooding the room for an instant. They could hear something rattling in their father's closet. For just a moment, some sort of shape, made out of light itself, began to stitch itself into his hands, around his fingers, around the obi he was holding.

Donatello gasped loudly, dropping the fabric like it had burned him and leaping back. The light disappeared all at once, fading away like it had never been there in the first place. All three of them gaped in silence for a moment. The air crackled with leftover energy, lingering like smoke after a fire.

Eventually, however, Leo found his tongue again, whipping around to face April.

"I told you!!!"

The restrictions of his new working conditions were... challenging. Not insurmountable by any means, but they did, admittedly, make progress much slower than he would like.

Much slower.

After a period of 'laying low,' he had of course made another visit to the Hamato household, intending to repossess his experiments, Lou Jitsu or not, but was frustrated to find a powerful mystical barrier had been placed over the apartment. At his full power, Draxum was certain he'd be able to break through, but in his current state, it was... an obstacle. He had been forced to retreat and reevaluate. 

He should have known that Lou Jitsu would seek reinforcements to keep him out. He curled his lips a bit at the other's cowardice, hiding away rather than facing him, but it didn't matter. They couldn't stay inside their little palace forever. Sooner or later, he knew he would be able to catch them outside of the protection of their home and reclaim what was his. They would join his side willingly once he spoke with them, he was sure.

In the meantime, he prepared.

He had already drafted about three dozen different tests he would want to run to measure how well his initial experiment had fared over the past fourteen years or so. It was obviously less than ideal that they had spent so much time in uncontrolled conditions, and that they had been under the influence of Lou Jitsu rather than himself, but… still. They existed. That was enough. The data he could gather alone would be invaluable. He had spent a great deal of time collecting all the various materials he would need to examine things like cell growth, mutation capacity, and any number of other biological factors. Humans hardly had the quality of components available to them as compared to what he could find in the Hidden City, but... it would have to do. He couldn’t risk showing his face in the Hidden City right now.

The torturous part was the absolute breadth of resources that the humans lacked.

Hunched over a make-shift desk he had fashioned, deep in his likewise make-shift sewer laboratory, he snarled in frustration, balling up his fists around stacks of papers and uncompleted checklists. Every lab and pharmacy he broke into, he never found everything he needed. Human technology was so primitive… Not to mention their dismal grasp of alchemy. And every item he was unable to procure he would be forced to fabricate, which would use up precious mystic energy, which would only lead to him falling farther and farther behind in his timeline--

How long could he afford to wait!? Every day, the prophecy loomed further over his head. He could feel the breath of danger hot on the back of his neck. He had already wasted so much time, and here he was, his goal literally within his sight, and yet…!

He swept the papers from his desk with a violent thrash of his arm. It was childish, he knew, and he would only regret it later when he had to clean it all up again, but it made him feel better in the moment. He sighed deeply through his nose as he watched the lists slowly flutter back down to the ground, his shoulders slumping slightly…

Only to pinch his brows together and frown when the papers… instead began to flutter behind him, all whisking away in unison, darting unnaturally past him.

“What the--?” 

Draxum had just barely turned, glancing behind him, when the cool violet light behind him blossomed into a full-blown sigil, pulsing firmly to his back and promptly beginning to swallow him whole. Draxum gave a surprised shout as he was sucked inside the magickal door, writhing as he did so, clawing desperately at the air. But he had nothing to hang onto, and in mere moments, the doorway he had been forced through blinked shut behind him-- leaving only the doorway up ahead.

He only had seconds to prepare himself. But he already had his feet beneath him as the portal spit him out somewhere new, his head whipping up immediately to face whoever dared summon him here.

“What’s going on? Who brought me here?” He spat, every muscle in his body tensed and angry, ready to fight. He had no idea where he was. Some human alleyway, it seemed, sad and dark and wet as they typically were. He was almost convinced he was alone before he heard a gravelly cackle bounce off the walls, the echo sounding like pebbles scraping across sand. Two bouncing red flames emerged from the darkness, and he tensed, baring his teeth in a silent warning.

“Is this the sheep guy?”

“Be cool. He’s a warring warrior scientist.”

“Sweet! Triple threat.”

Were they talking about him? As if he wasn’t even there-- who did these fools think they were? Underestimating Baron Draxum would be the last thing they ever did.

Draxum rose up to his full height, clenching his hands into fists and glowering at the strangers. “I will end both of you,” he snarled. His power may be weakened, but it was still plenty enough to destroy these two interlopers. If they thought summoning him with this silly party trick was all they would need to apprehend him and collect a reward from the Hidden City Police, then they were sorely mistaken.

“Easy, easy,” the smaller of the pair bade, extending a hand outward. Draxum narrowed his eyes. “I think we just might share some of the same goals… Like taking care of that pesky Lou Jitsu. And those odd children of his,” he hissed, tightening his hand into a fist.

Children?

Right. Of course.

His turtles. Beneath his skin, his temper flared, sharp and spined, scratching against his muscles angrily. He wasn’t inclined to trust any strangers, especially given his current circumstances, but… 

He supposed it was possible he might be able to find a use for these two. They were competent enough, at least, to summon him here, and he was hardly in an advantageous position at the moment… he stood to gain ground.

Draxum frowned deeply, narrowing his eyes. Perhaps he would hear them out.

“I’m listening…”

"Oh, HANG ON NOW--"

"Mikey--"

"No no no! So, let's get this straight. When I tell you guys that my notebook caught on fire--"

"Mikeeyyyy."

"Then I'm crazy, and also lying and covering up a cigarette addiction, apparently --"

"Michael. Come on."

"But when YOU guys tell ME that Donnie has glow-stick bones--"

"That's not what I said."

"That's reasonable?!"

"Okay, fine!" Leo sighed loudly, holding his hands up in defeat. "I will concede that, maybe, possibly, there is a slight chance that actually I was wrong about the fire thing, and also you were totally telling the truth. We are oh so very sorry, Miguel. I mean. Even though you really can't blame us…"

"BOY, I swear to GOD--"

"But this is serious! Donnie really did glow! And so did you last night! I saw you. Stop trying to deny it."

Mikey sighed loudly, crossing his arms over his chest. "Okay, magic fire is one thing, but I’m pretty sure I would have noticed if I could float! And glow!”

"Okay, look. Regardless, something weird is obviously going on! I could believe one of us just totally going crazy and starting to have weird hallucinations or something, but all of us!? We're not all just imagining things! There's something going on, and there's an answer in this chest! There has to be!"

Raph frowned a bit, not looking entirely convinced. "Are you sure, Leo? I don't think Dad would want us going through his stuff."

"Dad isn't here!" Leo cried, throwing his arms in the air. "What about that don't you guys get?! Do you guys wanna figure out what's going on and how we're gonna get him home, or don't you!? There's no way this magic stuff isn't involved somehow!"

As his brothers continued to argue, Donatello ran his hands over the length of the dusty wooden chest they had dragged out of the very back of Dad's closet. It had been all tucked away inside of a box, underneath a bunch of old clothes, mostly theirs from when they were kids. Hidden-- like Dad wanted to make sure no one found it. The same symbol that was on the obi was on the front of this chest. It looked absolutely ancient and was clearly handcrafted, locked shut with a golden padlock, and absolutely tempting the shit out of Donnie. 

"What do you think, Dee?" April nudged gently, leaning over next to him. "Think we can get it open?"

For the past four days, Donatello had been all systems go, full steam ahead. He had barely slept, didn't want to eat, didn't want to do anything except claw at the wall in front of them, trying to find a way to save their dad. And so far, nothing worked.

But now here they were. With this chest in front of them. A lead, finally. Even more than that. Something... interesting.

For days now, Donnie hadn't felt much beyond numb, anxious, helpless. 

Right now? He was curious.

"Yeah," Donnie said after a second. His throat felt a bit rough, a bit sore from being unused, but that was okay. "Shouldn't be too hard."

This alone was enough to stop Raph in his tracks, and Leo absolutely beamed, immediately moving to join Donnie's side. "All right! Dee's got this. If anyone can pick the lock, they can!"

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Donatello responded smoothly, pulling his bag off of his back, unzipping it and beginning to shuffle through its contents. "I've never picked a lock in my life," they added in, pulling out a small toolkit and cracking it open, immediately getting to work on the golden lock in front of them. "And anyone who indicates otherwise is clearly confused and does not have any evidence to back them up, meaning their testimony will not hold up in court. Especially considering I have four counter-witnesses right here who can attest that I would never engage in any such behavior, and in fact, we were elsewhere at the time of the crime..."

The padlock was open within forty-five seconds. Nice, new record.

Donnie could feel all four of their siblings leaning over their back, all wide-eyed as they pulled the chest open. Usually, they would get annoyed, but this was too big of a moment to fuss over. And inside, they found...

Paper.

Raph frowned a bit. "Is that it?" He questioned. "It's just... paper."

"Just paper?" Leo scoffed. "I'm sorry, what did you say? Did you say it’s just paper? Obviously, this is important paper! What's it say, Dee?"

"Wow, read the paper we found? What an innovative idea. Great plan. What an impressive pair of strategic minds you two have. Truly leaders of our generation..." Donnie muttered dryly, rolling his eyes as he moved to grab the long scrolls of paper folded up inside the chest.

And the moment he touched it-- "Whoa."

Before another question, comment, or sassy remark could be made by anyone in the group, a bright blue light burst from the scroll in Donnie's hand, overtaking them all in a shimmering, mystic glow. Mikey yelped in surprise, jumping behind Raph, who, at the same time, leaned closer to Leo, Donnie, and April, his hands moving over their shoulders, as if ready to yank them back. Donnie just barely resisted the urge to drop the paper altogether.

Mikey was, admittedly, not the only one to shriek when about a dozen ghostly blue figures burst into the room around them, encircling the group, manifesting in a cloud of gentle mist. 

"Greetings, young Hamatos," one of the figures spoke, their voice soft and echoing, yet seeming to transmit straight into Donnie's mind. He swore he wasn't hearing it with his ears at all-- this was a direct transfer. "It is an honor to be in your presence. What wisdom do you seek?"

The entire group stared for a minute.

"Oh. My god," April finally bit out.

"Dad had people in his closet!? This whole time!?" Mikey yelped, his eyes wide, having half climbed on top of Raph at this point.

"Fascinating," Donnie whispered, leaning forward to swipe his hands through the man a few times, amazed to see that it passed straight through. "They appear to be holograms? Or perhaps projections...? The polygons--"

"Dee, I know that science and logic is, like, your whole thing, but I think we're kind of past that," Leo scoffed. "It's obviously not holograms."

"Please stop doing that," the figure in front of them said, and Donatello scowled, reluctantly pulling his hand away from where it was doing passes back and forth through the hem of their robe. No one let him have any fun.

"Okay, so... these guys know us," Raph ventured, narrowing his eyes almost suspiciously. "Then... who are you?"

"We are the ancestors of the Hamato Clan," the figure spoke, pride filling his voice as he gestured to the many people filling the space, all draped in identical robes-- all sporting the same circular symbol. "Our spirits inhabit the sacred scrolls of our bloodline in order to offer guidance to those who remain on earth and bear our great destiny."

"Destiny?" Leo echoed, raising a brow. "Wait wait wait... So, you're, like... our grandparents."

"... No," the spirit said after a moment. "We're a little bit older than that."

"Okay, so, like, great-grandparents?"

"Hang on, what about this destiny stuff? What destiny?" Raph barked. "Look, this is all goin' a little fast! First, we find out that magic is, like, a thing, which I'm still sorta hung up on, and there's ghosts in Dad's closet, and now you're sayin' there's a Hamato destiny? 'Cause, uh, we're Hamatos, and no one ever filled us in on that!"

"Yes!" The spirit exclaimed, and the fog still filling the room seemed to lift with his voice, rising up to match his excitement as he swept his arms up. "The Hamatos are the bearers of a great duty to all of humanity-- it is the Hamatos alone that guard the safety of the earth against a great, ancient evil, and ensure it never rises to power again. As direct descendants of the bloodline, it is your divine purpose to--"

"Are we sure this isn't a movie prop?" Donnie stage-whispered to his siblings. "'Cause, like, this kind of sounds like the plot of a movie, right?"

"I mean, he's kinda got a point..."

"We are not movie props!!! This is an ancient tradition--"

"Okay, well, that's all well-and-good, very cool, uhm, love the special effects," Leo cut in. "And I'd love to discuss this great evil thing some more later, but can we maybe take a rain-check on that one? 'Cause we've kind of got a situation right now. Any chance you guys know where our dad is?"

The movie prop blinked slowly at them, keeping quiet for a moment. "... You want to rain-check your divine purpose?"

"Yeah. Can you maybe help us out in finding our dad first, and then we'll do all the rest of it? 'Cause it seems like humanity is doing, like, mostly fine? Except for maybe the part that posts on internet forums about reality TV. And, like, Republicans. But that's all obviously gonna be a huge undertaking to correct, and priority numero uno is our Daddy, please, so do you think you can, y'know... help us out?"

Mikey, Raph, Donnie, and April all nodded fervently.

"Your father has already fulfilled his purpose in producing heirs," the movie prop responded, their voice suddenly cold. "Though he may have rejected his duty, in continuing the bloodline, he has allowed the hope that the Hamato Clan brings to live on. It is now your great honor to take up the mantle and--"

"But where is he?" Mikey chirped. "He's missing."

"Okay, look, we are not exactly omniscient, we don't just know that kind of--"

"Then can you help us find him?" Raph pressed. 

"You are already years behind on training, your ninpo--"

“Our what-po?”

"We can talk about that after we find our Dad," Leo scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest. "We're not just gonna forget about him!"

"Traditionally, Hamatos are not raised by their parents, so it is not really--"

"What?!" Mikey wailed. "What kind of tradition is that? That's so sad!"

"It is a great sacrifice--"

“Sacrifice?” Mikey echoed shortly, his eyes widening.

"What do you mean sacrifice?" Raph demanded, moving closer to their youngest brother. “Sacrifice what!?”

"This is all starting to sound kind of fishy," April accused.

“How do we even know we can trust these guys?” Raph added in.

"Are you going to help us or not?" Leo cried.

"Is that why we don't have grandparents?!" Mikey whimpered.

"Hamato Yoshi can no longer be considered a priority for--"

Donnie dropped the scroll back into the chest and slapped the lid shut.

"Dad?"

"Yes, my son?" His father hummed, glancing down at his child, picking at stones on the ground at the bus stop. He had long given up trying to get his kids not to pick stuff up from off the street; so long as they didn't put anything in their mouths, he was content. 

"Are we challenging kids?" Leo questioned, glancing up at his dad with side eyes.

Their dad frowned a bit, pausing whatever show he was watching on his phone and pocketing it, leaning forward to rest on his knees and look at Leonardo properly. "What makes you ask something like that, Blue?"

"Uhm," Leo paused, frowning a bit and looking to the side. "Samantha's mom, uhm, she was saying to the other moms the other day, after swim practice, that we were, uh... That we were ‘challenging kids…’ And that 'you couldn't pay her to deal with what he does,' and also she said she would tear all her hair out."

His dad hummed thoughtfully, nodding as he listened to his son speak.

"First of all," he said. "Of course you are challenging! There is no such thing as a child who is not challenging. I promise you that Samantha will have all sorts of challenges in her lifetime! Children are not meant to be easy. Children are meant to be children. And there is nothing wrong with being challenged. It makes life exciting."

Leo wrinkled his nose. "Okay," he said. "... Do we have more challenges than other kids?"

His dad laughed aloud. "I do not know!" He said. "I have never tried to raise any other children but you four. Thank god. But I can tell you that you are no more challenging than I was as a child! That is for certain." 

Okay, that made Leo smile a tiny bit. 

"Second of all," his father continued. "Even if you were the most challenging children in all the world, I would still never trade being your father for anything. I did not become a parent and expect it to be easy! And there is not a single thing in all the universe that could convince me to give up even one of you."

"Not even the new plasma-screen TV that they have at Target? With the super super big screen? The one so big it curves?"

"No, not even the super big TV they have at Target," his dad laughed, ruffling Leo's hair. "And if raising you boys is challenging, it is the best challenge I could have ever asked for. I must be a very lucky man indeed."

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, quite sure.”

“Even when Donnie takes apart the remote controls?”

“Yes, even then.”

“And when Mikey puts paint in his pockets?”

“Yes, even when Mikey puts paint in his pockets.”

“And even when Raph and I fight over who gets to get on the subway first?”

“Yes, Blue.”

“And even when we tear the gutter off the roof ‘cause we were trying to climb up to the balcony?”

“Yes, even when-- wait, what!? When did you do that?!”

“Nothing. Nevermind. I love you too, Daddy!!!”

All five of them had been lying in various states of unrest or depression about their father's room for about ten minutes now.

"I can't believe there are magic spirits in your house, and they're all completely useless dickheads." April was the first to break the silence.

"I concur," Donnie muttered sourly, wrapping his arms around himself. "I'm going back to not believing in magic."

"How can they just write off Dad like that?" Mikey sighed deeply. "Because he has kids to carry on the ‘Hamato Destiny,’ he doesn't matter anymore!? What kind of a deal is that? And what even is the Hamato Destiny? They never said!"

"I dunno," Raph said, hunching his shoulders, staring up at the ceiling with a scowl. "But whatever it was, Raph didn't like the sound of it..."

He couldn't help but wish they hadn't opened that dumb box in the first place. 

All his life, he had been the biggest brother-- the brother who was the biggest. It was his job, obviously, to look after his little siblings and make sure everyone was safe. Sure, there was some leeway there, obviously. Letting Mikey dart out into traffic because he saw a dog on the other side of the street? Bad idea. Grab him. Letting Leo attempt to grind his skateboard down five flights of stairs with railings that weren't even connected? Also a bad idea, but it would be really funny to watch, so we’ll let that one slide. He had been the biggest brother long enough to know this stuff! He knew what kind of stuff was actually dangerous and what wasn't, and what the best way to keep everyone safe was.

How was he supposed to protect them from this "Hamato Destiny" stuff when he had no idea what it was? And hadn't even thought that magic stuff was a thing until about twenty minutes ago? He had been pretty much sure, like most reasonable people above the age of nine, that magic was like, definitely not real. Now he was kind of feeling differently. 

He wasn't sure if he liked it.

Every time he thought about it, it made his skin crawl. What the hell was it that was creeping around in their own damn shadows? And how long had it been there with them none the wiser?! Was there danger inside the strands of their very own DNA? And how the hell do you protect someone from that?

"Do you think it's bad?" Mikey ventured, glancing up at Raph from where he sat on the floor, propped up against the side of the bed.

"Well it definitely didn't seem good," Raph huffed, tilting his head a bit so he could glance over at his little brother. "Blah blah blah, bare a great destiny, blah blah blah, guard against evil-- that don't exactly sound like a picnic! And why else would Dad skip out on his ‘duty’ or whatever? I mean, there's gotta be a reason he never told us about any of this!"

"You think that's why he never wanted to talk about his family?" April said, frowning a little.

"Well, from what they said, I'm not even sure if he actually knew his family. Apparently, Hamatos don't raise their own children," Donnie scoffed, crossing their arms over their chest. "So clearly he's already broken from tradition there."

Silence fell over them once more. Raph fidgeted uncomfortably in place. His stomach hurt, he noted dully.

"Should we try talking to them again?" Mikey suggested after a bit. Leo scoffed loudly.

"They didn't exactly seem excited to help us out, 'Angelo."

"Yeah but, I mean, maybe we can convince them!" Mikey argued. "They’re our family! And it's sort of the only lead we've got. I mean. Okay, so, there's a Hamato Destiny, and also, magic exists, I guess, and, uh, maybe some of us have it...? Which is super cool and all! But... I'm not sure how it's gonna help us find Dad."

Dammit. He had a point.

"... Do you think that guy in the mask was just, like... actually a goat man?" Donnie said after a second, and Leo all but gasped, sitting up sharply.

"Holy SHIT. I didn't even think about that!" He cried, clutching his own head. "But he probably is, right!? Instead of being a stalker fan or whatever? And that's how they disappeared? He's... like... a magic thing!"

"So new theory is that a goatman kidnapped Dad?" Raph ventured.

"Well, if there are magic goatmen or whatever other kinda creatures are kind of on the table, right?" April reasoned. "I mean, there are ghosts, I guess. So it'd make sense if there's other stuff too."

"Do you think there's unicorns?"

"Mikey, so not the priority right now."

"Right. Sorry!"

"Alright. So. To summarize. Goatman kidnapped our papa for unknown reasons, magic exists, allegedly, which I'm still not entirely sold on for the record--"

"Dude, you literally started glowing purple--"

"And also the Hamatos have a very rich and magical history, a divine destiny, and fucked up childhoods," Donnie continued. "... How do we make any of that work for us?"

Everyone quieted for a moment. It was a great question.

"... Research?" Leo suggested weakly.

"You all are going to make me deep-dive satyrs, aren't you," Donnie sighed very deeply, letting their head fall back down to the floor with a dull thump. "Right. I'll start on that. Mikey, you make friends with the Hamato ghosts."

Chapter Text

"Daddy! Daddy, look!"

Mikey was aware, dimly, that this was a memory. He could see that this excited child, racing to throw himself into his father's waiting arms, was just a younger version of himself. And though that was him, tiny and still new in the world, he watched the scene from above as a passive observer, floating above it all. For some reason, it didn't bother him. It didn't even seem strange.

"Watch! Watch what I learned how to do in class today!" His child self happily demanded, backing up out of his father's embrace, throwing his bag down and to the side. Once he was a suitable enough distance back, he wrinkled his nose with concentration as he moved into third position, the sides of his feet carefully pressed together and his arms held gently to the side. Mikey smiled a tiny bit from up above. How old had he been here? Maybe five? 

After a moment of wavering, he moved, hopping across the floor in order to shift into a leap, his legs kicking out high, nearly parallel to each other, before gravity brought him back down and he landed neatly on the ground. And maybe this was kind of conceited, somehow, because he was watching himself, but even Mikey had been a little bit impressed. It wasn't polished by any means, but that was really good for a little kid. He had been told his whole life, ever since he started lessons, just how talented of a dancer he was. How wonderful he was at ballet, what a natural he was, blah blah blah. He was realizing now that hearing things like that was a very different experience than actually observing from an outside perspective.

He felt a dash of pride. But it was a shadow compared to his father. He could see from here that he was just beaming. 

"Wow, Orange! Very impressive!" He praised, and the child practically squealed in response, grinning so wide that even Mikey’s cheeks hurt just from watching. Radiating sunshine. Warm.

"It's a Grand Jetty!" He announced proudly, and Mikey laughed. That was most certainly not the correct pronunciation. "It's just like the kicking we learned at the dojo, Daddy! Right!? That's why I'm so good at it," he declared, almost smugly, puffing out his chest a bit. "Because you taught me how to do it first!"

"Ah, yes," his father hummed, stroking his chin dramatically. "It must be my incredible teaching that makes you so talented! Yes, this makes perfect sense. I will accept full credit," he teased, and his son huffed loudly.

"Daddy! That's only part of why," he protested, grabbing onto his arms to kind of shake him a little, hanging onto his sleeve. His dad laughed.

"Okay, okay. I suppose I might be able to share credit. How about fifty-fifty?"

"Daddddddyyyy!"

"Sixty-forty?"

Mikey laughed. Both of them. Past and present; the memory and the dream. Because that's what this was, right? He wished he could get closer. He wished he could move and join them. He wanted to hang off of his dad's arm, too, to be close and laugh with him, instead of just watching from above. But he could never move.

He was only an observer. Because this was a dream. Wasn't it?

Mikey woke up.

He was starting to get used to the physically jarring re-entries into reality, as he could only assume that he had been floating up until a few moments ago... again. This had become a pattern now.

It had been eight days since they had last seen their father. But every night, he dreamt of him. At first, they were just dreams , just hodgepodge mixtures of memories and thoughts and feelings, all stitched together in an odd fragmented quilt, the way dreams usually were. The way his dreams always were. Strange and not meant to be navigated, just experienced. But the more time passed, and the harder they all pushed, clawing desperately and continually forward to try to find a way to reunite their family, the more the dreams shifted.

Every time now, they were memories. Flashes of his past-- some fuzzy and far off, echoing, but others in shocking clarity, so real and bright that he swore he was actually there. Most of these things he hadn't even thought about in years. He hadn't remembered showing his dad his Grand Jeté before now, the memory long buried and lost in his subconscious beneath mountains of time, like a crocus under snow. But he remembered it now. God, how many other things had he forgotten?

In every single dream, he was watching from up above, his father trapped down below him, reliving the past. He saw himself show off his ballet moves. He watched Dad refereeing their first ever ‘Lair Games.’ He recalled his father teaching him how to make rice. More than anything else, over and over and over again, he remembered Dad teaching them all martial arts, him and all three of his brothers together. And in every dream, Mikey always wanted to move closer, to reach out and grab him, but he never could. He could never get to him. So he always just watched, and he would see things that he had never noticed before. Now, he could see the way Dad's eyes glowed with pride whenever he complimented them, because he always meant it. He noticed how his brows always crinkled in the middle to form a crease whenever he was worried, the same way Raph's did. He saw how his body would dip with satisfied exhaustion in quiet moments.

Mikey laid silently in his bed, flat on his back, staring up at the ceiling. The glow-in-the-dark star stickers he had put up there when he was four stared back at him. Or rather, that his father had put there on his behalf. His throat felt tight. He wondered when he was going to get used to waking up like this. He wondered if the grief was ever going to get easier. Because every night when he woke up it hit him like a goddamn train all over again. 

He lingered for a minute or so, fighting off tears, and then laid there for a few more minutes, sobbing softly, his pillow shoved up against his face. And once he got through the worst of it, he rolled out of bed, dragging himself up to his feet and slowly plodding into the hall, wiping leftover tears from his face as he went. 

This wasn't really a common occurrence, especially now that he was older, but in the event that he woke up in the middle of the night from a bad dream or a stomachache, he always took turns with which family member he would go find and climb into bed with. He could get something different from each of them. Dad would make him tea and lay with him until he fell asleep again. Leo would find some way to make him laugh and would play with the beads in his hair until he got drowsy. Donnie could always explain away anything that had scared him, always had tricks and solutions to offer. And from Raph, he could without fail find firm hugs and promises of protection that he knew he could count on. 

He was heading in the direction of his oldest brother's room, his bare feet padding quietly against the hardwood, and was surprised to hear soft voices filtering from inside. He paused in his approach, leaning against the wall, focusing only on listening to the hushed conversation that just barely snuck through the cracked door.

"--trying." He only heard the tail end of whatever April was saying.

"I know they're tryin'. That's not the problem," Raph mumbled in reply, his voice sounding strained. "It's not like I blame them! I just. I just wish we had-- any kind of a lead. It feels like we're not gettin’ anywhere. All we're doing is finding more questions, and none of it’s helpin’ us find Dad! I mean, what am I supposed to do with this whole Hamato Destiny thing?"

"Hey, look. We'll figure it out, okay? It's not all up to you. Like, I know the whole... Hamato thing is, like... a lot, but... "

"It's not just that, April! I just. I don't know. I feel like it's… it’s dangerous. You heard some of the things that ghost guy was sayin'! I mean. Why else would Dad not tell us about any of it? It just... it just gives Raph a real bad feeling," Mikey could hear the hiss in his voice. He could almost see Raph's brow furrow into a crease. "I just. I dunno. I wish we never found the dumb thing," he laughed bitterly. "Isn't that crazy? I mean. Finding out you've got a magical destiny and powers or whatever the hell should be excitin', right? It should be cool."

"Maybe if you're in a book," April mumbled, and Mikey heard the bed creak, like her weight was shifting, like she was leaning into Raph, or wrapping her arms around him. "Look. Whatever happens, we're gonna figure it out, okay? But it's the middle of the night. You've gotta rest, dude! You're just as bad as Leo and Donnie. You guys have got to sleep. "

"... I dunno..."

"We'll work on this more first thing tomorrow, okay? I'm sure we can figure something out. Right now, sleep . Big sister’s orders. Go the fuck to sleep."

There was more movement, more shifting, most likely April chasing Raph under the covers, but Mikey had kind of stopped listening. His chest felt kind of fluttery.

It probably wouldn't be very helpful if he walked in there now, huh? April was trying to get Raph to actually rest. He would just interrupt and worry Raph if he went barging in. And he was already, clearly, anxious enough on his own... And Leo and Donnie weren't sleeping very well either, were they? He already knew that. They all knew that. And they were all anxious. 

So that probably wouldn't be a very good idea, either, would it? To go and wake them up and make them worry about him on top of everything else. To go and demand comfort from them when they probably needed it themselves.

And Dad wasn't home. So... 

As quietly as he came, Mikey turned around, retreating back to his own room.

Leo used to be grateful every time he managed to fall asleep at night. But he was quickly becoming sick of it.

Move. Move. MOVE!--

And he must have, because he woke up with a start, his entire body jumping slightly. Same dream twice in a row? He wasn’t a huge fan, quite frankly, and he was really hoped this wasn’t the start of a pattern because it was pissing him the fuck off. 

Leo groaned softly, his body feeling uncharacteristically sore as he rolled over onto his side. Please be in my own room. Please be in my own room. Please be in my own room--

“Leo?”

Nope.

Leo scrubbed at his face with his hands before slowly turning his head, glancing to the side. April and Raph were both staring at him as if he had just turned green. Leo thought quietly to himself that they could almost blend in with the eight-trillion stuffed animals Raph had piled up on his bed with how they were frozen, staring at him.

"Hey guys," he greeted as casually as possible, curling his lips back in a forced smile.

"Where the hell did you come from?!" Raph yelped, his eyes darting back and forth between his brother and the door, the door and his brother. "You just-- but we just-- I didn't see--"

"I don't know, okay!? I dunno!" Leo sighed loudly, throwing his hands up in exasperation. "I was asleep about five seconds ago, I have no idea how I got here. I thought maybe I was sleepwalking."

"Sleep ninja-ing, more like!" Raph gawked. "How did you get in here without us seein’ or hearin’ you? I mean. I didn't-- I didn't even see the door open, you just--"

"Okay, uhm," April bit her lower lip, rolling to flop down on her stomach on Raph's bed, propped up on her elbow. "Look, you guys know I hate to be the one to suggest magic Hamato powers, buutttt..."

"I really don't wanna talk about it," Leo grumbled, slowly sitting up and rolling his shoulders.

"Ooh, wait!" April gasped. "This is totally how you ended up in Mikey's room last night, isn't it?!"

"Well--"

"Ooh, and then you got on his ass about floating ? He is gonna be pissed --"

"Do not tell him!"

"You sure you're alright?" Raph questioned, and Leo could just hear the worry in his voice. Ugh, this was so not his goal, and so not what he needed right now...

"I'm fine," Leo insisted. "Seriously. It's not a big deal. I'm not hurt. I didn't even leave the house! Sooooo, sorry for barging in, my bad, now, uh, I'm just gonna..."

"Leo," April said, and Leo whined a bit, tilting his head back to look at the ceiling in quiet despair 'cause she was using her big-sister-voice. "Quit pretending like you're not just gonna end up sleeping here tonight and just c'mere already." 

Ugh. Dammit. He didn't want to. I mean. He did. But also... He didn't... But...

"Fine," Leo grumbled, turning to slink over to Raph's bed, crawling in to join the other two. Luckily, Raph's bed was big enough that there was space for himself, his brother, his sister, all of Raph's Build-A-Bears, and then some. One of the perks of having a huge older brother, he supposed. 

He hoped this wasn't gonna turn into a habit.

Trust was essential for any cohesive unit to work properly. Without trust, there would be no success, no forward momentum, no unit to begin with. Casey knew this perfectly well. She had known it for most of her life. And truly, she did trust her leaders. Over the many years, she had never once questioned their wisdom or the reasoning behind their decisions. She had always been happy to blindly follow, to obey, to leap at their command without thinking or seeing because they said to , and to trust that they would not send her anywhere without the wellbeing of the clan's future in mind. Even when they weren't thinking of hers.

But Baron Draxum? Casey did not trust Baron Draxum. 

And she hated that she didn't! She wanted so desperately to have faith in the Foot Clan's glorious leaders and their newest plan to recover the Dark Armor. They had never led them wrong before, (mostly,) and she couldn't quite put her finger on it, but...

Something was off.

She couldn't quite pin this guy down. They brushed elbows rarely, and when they did, it wasn't as though she disliked him. She could appreciate a guy who knew what he wanted and pushed towards their goal without compromise, and she definitely found coffee runs to be much more enjoyable after he had tagged along that first time. Truly, she had been doing it all wrong. But there was just... something... 

And she didn't know what. That was the worst part about it. It wasn't as simple as suspecting the newest recruit. She didn't feel, per se, that he would betray the Clan, or that he had ulterior motives, though she was sure that he did, but every time he was around, something in the back of her brain just twitched and wriggled, incessant and annoying and horridly persistent. 

But she trusted her senseis. The plan, on paper, was quite good. Baron Draxum was a powerful criminal and wielder of devastating mystics. Each day they seemed to grow stronger. He had an enemy in the Hamato Clan, and of course, so did they. It made perfect sense that they would work together to gather the Dark Armor and bring the Foot Clan's Master back to power. He was an irreplaceable ally to the Foot and an essential part of their plan. He assisted in retrieving the scattered pieces of the armor. They assisted in providing lab equipment and spell components to restore his mystic powers. And they assisted each other in plotting the destruction of the Hamato bloodline, once and for all, and soon, they would strike.

So why did her gut twist like this when she was around him? She ground her teeth in frustration, squaring her shoulders and resisting the urge to glare at him from across their lair as he conversed with the clan's leaders. Was it jealousy? She had, admittedly, been training under the Foot Clan since she was ten, and there was a slight sting to watching him rapidly rise through the ranks above her, despite his short stint within their organization. But that wasn't it, either. Or at least, not all of it. Her eyes climbed upwards to the altar where the unfinished Dark Armor was displayed. Already, they were nearly halfway complete. Cassandra had never dreamed that they could make such rapid progress, but with Baron Draxum's aid, things were going, quite frankly, swimmingly. 

She should be thrilled. 

So what was it that they were missing? 

He knew that he needed to get up.

He was fully aware. He was so deeply, desperately, nearly violently aware that he needed to get up. It was the morning. He had already been laying here for over an hour. His kids would be awake soon. They would be hungry. They would want food and attention. No, rather, need food and attention. He thought bleakly to himself that all they had were canned beans and jars of baby food right now, anyway. Lots and lots of canned beans and jarred baby food, at least, but not exactly the variety of nutrition a parent might hope for. He wondered if Raphael was old enough to work a can-opener. And then he thought to himself that Raphael was hardly even three, by his best calculations, so probably not. 

You have to get up, he bade, scolding himself. You cannot keep laying here until they come to get you or cry. They are counting on you. Come on. Get up, you lazy, stupid rat! It is not even difficult. All you need to do is get out of bed. Remember when you used to wake up before the sun to go on runs? Remember when you used to begin training before the crack of dawn? What happened to that Yoshi?

  God, he wished he knew. But that Yoshi wasn't here now. He grunted softly, turning just enough to bury his face in his pillow. He must have slept on and off for at least ten hours, but the exhaustion clung to his bones regardless. His stupid little rat bones. He wondered if that was ever going to go away. He wondered if this was a side-effect of the mutation, or if it was just a personal failing on his own part. Perhaps turning into a rat would shorten his lifespan. Perhaps, any day now, he would pass away from old age. He certainly felt old. The thought might have given him some comfort if it weren't for the four toddlers relying on him in their entirety for survival, sleeping soundly just across the room. If you could call the space they occupied 'rooms' at all. 

The wails of a child, which he immediately pinned as Mikey, split the thick, musty silence of the sewers, and Yoshi grit his teeth with frustration. He continued to lay in bed for another full minute before he got up to go and fetch him, and he resented himself for each and every one of those sixty seconds. What kind of person listens to a hungry child cry like that?

 "I'm here. I am here, Orange," he did his best to soothe as he shuffled his way around the corner, scooping the youngest from the cardboard box they slept in each night, filled with fluffy towels and shredded paper to make a ‘bed.’ Mikey still whined, but quieted a bit, clinging to his fur with chubby three-fingered hands, yanking himself up into his father’s arms.

 Yoshi could admit that they were odd-looking children, with their scaled green skin and shelled backs, little claws tipping each finger. But it wasn't as if he didn't look quite odd as well. And though he had at first not been so sure about what exactly they were, or what to call them, as time had passed he had grown quite confident that they were, in fact, children, regardless of how they might look, or any turtleish qualities or habits they may have. Sometimes he even thought that they looked a bit like him, or perhaps acted a bit like him. But maybe that was just wishful thinking.

 He had never imagined himself as a father before. Sure, there had been that one pregnancy scare with Crystal Yistal, but then it had just turned out to be a stomach bug and he had been more than happy to abandon any previous thoughts of raising a child.

He had definitely not imagined it like this.

With Mikey still on his hip, he got Purple and Blue up next, coaxing them out of their shared box, and then Red as well. He noted dimly that his biggest was rapidly outgrowing his current sleeping place, and he would have to get him something new soon. He kept meaning to find them something proper to sleep in besides literal boxes, but he had yet to manage to do so... Just another item on an endless list of to-do's that he never seemed to be able to get out from under. When they were still so tiny, small enough to fit in the palms of his hands, boxes had felt reasonable! But now that they were more akin to toddlers than turtles, it felt less appropriate.

They were children. Surely he could figure out something better than this… one of these days. 

He slowly herded the group to the 'kitchen,' as he referred to it in his head, busying himself with preparing breakfast for the four. The area they occupied was not very big, only consisting of a few tunnels. There were more, sure, but Yoshi made it a point not to allow his children into any space that he wasn't confident was safe. He knew that they were too cramped, and it was not enough room for four growing children, and really, he was meaning to address it. He had every intention of taking the time to clear more space of any potential hazards so they could have a bit more room to run around, perhaps find some sort of proper furniture if he could, some more toys or decorations of some kind, he just...

Hadn't gotten to it yet. 

Maybe the next time we go out to find more food, he thought wearily, doling out meals to his children who were old enough to eat on their own, and feeding those who weren't, balancing Mikey on his lap. He wasn't especially hungry if he was being honest, and skipping meals meant what food he could procure lasted longer, so he figured it was basically a win-win. He had gotten better and better at obtaining resources for them as the months had gone by, but it was still difficult on a bad day. Things would wax and wane now. There were times when he would suddenly feel as if his energy had returned, his motivation and drive renewed, and he would get as much done as he possibly could-- fixing things that needed to be fixed, finding supplies that he knew they needed, looking over anything of concern that needed to be addressed as quickly as he possibly could to take full advantage. But they never seemed to last as long as they needed to. 

Most days were like this. 

He was dimly aware of his children babbling things to him, occasionally making comments or asking questions to him, and he responded to them on autopilot. Yoshi still sometimes had a hard time understanding what Leo was saying. He would just nod along in these cases, and it usually worked well enough. Raph would translate if he wasn't getting it. He was only a bit better with his words, but he spoke much slower than Blue did. 

“Daddy,”

“Yes, Blue.”

“Daddy!”

“I am listening.”

“... Purple?”

“Yes, Purple is here too. I see him. He’s sitting right next to you, see?”

Leo turned slightly to look at his brother, who was far more interested in breakfast than him, smiling contently and giving an enthusiastic nod now that he had re-confirmed his twin’s continued existence. 

“Yeah!”

“Yes, and Red and Orange as well.”

“He little.”

“Yes, your brother is still very little, isn’t he?” He sighed. 

“No,” Mikey mumbled. That was about the only word he knew so far besides “Dada,” but it was by far his favorite thing to say. Besides just screaming. Oh, Orange loved to hear himself. Yoshi was quite convinced that he often did it just for the joy of creating noise.

“Yeah! You are,” Leo insisted.

“No,” Mikey yelled this time, and Yoshi sighed.

“Ah, yes, but he will grow and get big, just like you and Purple and Red, won’t he?” He hummed. God, he knew they would. Hadn’t it just been yesterday that he could carry them all in one arm? They had been so tiny, and they had gotten big so fast. Especially Raph-- he was like a damn weed with how quickly he was shooting up. He almost wished they were still that small… It had certainly been much easier to keep track of them back then. It was a nightmare any time he had to venture out of the tunnels now, trying to keep four little turtle tots in tow and making sure no one went tottering off on their own or started touching things they weren’t meant to.

“I’m big,” Leo confirmed with a firm little nod, looking satisfied with this, turning his attention back to his breakfast. The rest of the meal was quieter, allowing Yoshi the time to focus on making sure everyone ate and got their fair share. Leo sometimes got distracted talking and didn’t eat, which he had to keep an eye on… But for at least a few blissful moments, things were calm and peaceful, with all his little boys gathered around him, munching on their breakfast. It wouldn’t last, however, naturally, and once Leo was done with his food, he quickly had a new focus. 

"Daddy," Leo chirped excitedly, grabbing onto his dad's arm and shaking it. Breakfast was apparently over. "Play?!"

Oh god. His entire body ached with exhaustion at the simple thought.

"How about we watch a movie?" He said. Each time he suggested this alternative, his sons’ enthusiasm seemed to lessen, but they still agreed to it each time. Thank god. They didn't have a lot, (especially since their last 'home' was flooded out about five months back, at which time they had lost most of their possessions,) but the family had to their name a small, blocky television, a VHS tape player, and a dozen or so different titles to choose from. Splinter had figured out quite some time ago how to mess with the few breaker boxes down here until they could access electricity in a select few locations, but they still currently only had one single outlet that actually supplied any power. More often than not, this one functional plug powered their little television. 

He selected a VHS at random to put on, settling down in the lawn chair they had in front of it, gathering all four of his children up in his lap. Oh lord, Raph was getting too big for this. Or he was getting too small. He had long suspected he was shrinking.

Admittedly, he knew that "The Mantis at Midnight" was not exactly age appropriate. But he didn't get to pick and choose which VHS tapes he could scrounge up, and he could only watch the one Scooby-Doo tape that they owned so many times. He recognized it as selfish on his part, but he was quite certain his brain would melt. 

 Next time, he told himself. Next time they ask to play, we will play. We will do something. I will not just put on another movie.

But even now, he didn't believe himself.

He was always doing that, wasn't he? Saying he would take care of things or change, and then never following through.

He had hoped that he would be able to find some alternative option, some way out of his deal before the deadline came. But of course, he hadn't. And now here he was. 

 The leg of his opponent passed no more than an inch before his eyes, Yoshi ducking down and out of the line of fire in just the nick of time. He grit his teeth, dancing quickly to the side and away from the next strike that he knew was coming, trying to allow himself the distance to anticipate the coming attacks and dodge those, too. For the second time in a rather short period of time, he wished desperately that he had not let his fitness routine fall to the wayside all these years. There were so many cramps. So, so many cramps.

 He wasn't able to dodge the next blow, much to his frustration, only to block it, his own arm flying up to catch his opponent's foot and deflect. He took no real damage, but it still hurt . He was layered with so many bruises and bumps and scrapes from the past week that he was beginning to feel like an impasto painting, with nothing having the time to heal properly before new work was piled on top of it. He was sure Big Mama was thrilled with the reaction his debut had earned. The Nexus was packed each and every day. This demand, of course, meant that his performance schedule was quite full. 

 The spotted feline yokai flitting before him surged forward, leading with her chest as she sliced through his defenses and into the close-combat zone that she was best suited for, the best-suited position for her to finish things-- this would have been very bad news indeed if Yoshi had not already anticipated this. His knee thrust sharply upward to catch her jaw just as she moved in for the kill, a sharp crunch sounding between them, her head lurching back at an absolutely sickening angle. Yoshi inwardly winced. Not just because it hurt his knee, but because he knew that if it hurt his knee, it had to be much worse for her. 

 She crumpled to the ground. He quickly jumped backward, looking to put some distance between the two of them. It had been a solid blow, he knew, one that could and had ended many fights in the past, but he was not foolish enough to simply trust that she would go down and leave himself exposed. Not here. He knew much better than that.

 There was a beat of silence. It hung heavy in the air for one, two, three seconds, with every single soul in the stadium waiting to see if she would get back up. 

 The referee above waved a red flag, and the entire Battle Nexus erupted into deafening cheers. Oh, thank god. He had been... a bit worried about this one. 

He may be the undefeated champion, but he was not as young as he used to be. This challenger, in particular, had put up a wicked fight. He privately hoped that she would recover, but not well enough that he would have to face her again, and then felt awful for thinking such things. But if he were being perfectly honest with himself, he hadn't been so sure he would be able to win this fight. 

His entire body wept in protest as he stood his ground, his shoulders squared and his back straight, trying to give an air of confidence. He resisted the urge to bend, to rest his hands on his knees and wince and inspect the damage before the next fight. He knew Big Mama didn't appreciate such behavior. Something about ratings and appearances.

And he didn’t like it. But if his sons' safety depended on his career as the reigning Battle Nexus champion, well, then...

He threw up his arms, and the crowd screamed in response, the roaring of cheers reaching a wild crescendo.

"Who's next?!"

"Look. I already said I don't wanna talk about the Hamato Destiny anymore," Mikey sighed deeply. "I already listened to you talk for, like... so long about this." Not that any of it made any real sense. What the heck was a Twilight Realm? Or a Kuroi Yōroi...? He really was trying to pay attention, but it was all just so... jumbled and weird and, uh. Honestly a lot. "I wanna talk about finding my Dad. That was the deal. I listen to you, and then you help me."

Ghost-Sensei, as they had taken to calling them, seemed a bit annoyed at being cut off, which only frustrated Mikey more.

"We have already explained that we are not aware of Hamato Yoshi's current location--"

"I know! I know that. You told us that. Many times," Mikey sighed, resisting the urge to snap. He usually had so much more patience than this, and he was trying really hard to get it together, this was just... really, really frustrating. And also the fifth time he had tried to talk to these guys. "And that's... fine. But. I mean. You guys have got to know something that can help us. Like... don't you know him? Is there anyone who would want to hurt him, or... do you know where they might take him? And can we use any of these... mystic power things to get in contact with him or something?"

Ghost shook their head. "The Hamato Clan has many enemies," they reported. "And many members of the Clan have been hunted over our history. But without proper training in the Hamato ways and the art of ninpo, you will not be able to contact him... especially given that his own training was never completed, and his ninpo remains locked. It would be incredibly difficult to accomplish. Assuming, of course, that he is still alive to begin with." 

Mikey's head jerked slightly, his face flushing ruddy and dark.

"Don't say that!" He snapped. "Unless you know that he's dead and you know where we can find his body, then don't you dare say that!!! We're gonna find him!!! Whether or not you help!" 

He grit his teeth, hunching his shoulders slightly.

"Why won't you help? If there's a way to mystically contact him, why won't you just teach me that?"

"This is a very advanced technique... That alone would take many months of training to learn, and to jump straight to such lessons while neglecting the basics that come before--"

"We can do the basics later! I promise we'll do the basics later! We don't have time right now!" Mikey pleaded. "I swear I can learn. Just teach me, and I'll figure it out! I know I'm not as smart as Leo or Donnie are, but you could teach them instead if you want! And then we'll learn whatever else you want, and do all the destiny stuff--"

"Michelangelo," the spirit leaned in closer. Mikey hated how empty their eyes always looked. "You have great potential. You have more connection to the mystic energies of the universe than any of your brothers do, and you have every opportunity to be a truly remarkable warrior indeed... but this does not change the reality of the situation. To be a Hamato is to sacrifice. And it is a terrible burden for us to bear," they sighed deeply. "But it is all a part of the great honor and destiny we share, which ties us all together. You are not like other people, Michaelangelo. You and your brothers were not put on this earth to live an easy life. None of us were. We do not exist for ourselves. We exist for the survival of the world."

Mikey felt like he was going to throw up. His body felt all shaky and numb, even though he was holding himself steady. 

"I'm not asking for an easy life," he whispered. "I'm just asking for our Dad back. He's part of the world, too."

Ghost-Sensei pulled away, sighing deeply. "I know that this can be a difficult thing to accept," they said gently, in such a kind, soft tone that it made Mikey's chest twist with resentment. "Perhaps you need time to come to terms with this."

And just like that, Mikey was alone in the room. 

 The tears trickling down his freckled face became proper sobs soon enough, bending down to rest his head against his knees, his chest pressed across his thighs as he wept for a short while. He was getting pretty tired of crying about this, but it caught him by surprise every time. He was upset in a million different ways. He knew that these people knew more than they were letting on, he just knew it... and they wouldn't even let him try to learn these 'Hamato techniques.' Every time he talked to them, he just walked away with more questions than before, and with this trembling, hollow feeling occupying his skeleton. 

Was this how Dad grew up? Taught that his life was something on loan to him-- not truly his, just something to trade away to a world that, seemingly, wasn't even aware of their sacrifice to begin with?

Because that sucked. Like... so much. And now they didn't even seem to care about him anymore.

I could learn, if you just gave me a chance, he thought bitterly. You said I have potential. But you won't even let me try... 

He sighed deeply through his nose. Not only that... he had more connection to the 'mystic energies of the world' than the rest of his brothers. For some reason, this made Mikey frown. Once upon a time, if someone had told him something like this, he would have beamed, flipped his hair, and agreed that of course he did. His intuition was obviously off the charts, his creative finesse was something to be envied, and his therapist had been calling him an 'empath' since back before it was a cringe thing to say...

But now it just made his stomach flip-flop. He knew he wasn't the only one, but lately, he was questioning... everything. Every time they uncovered something new, it was like there was this little voice in his head that was wailing. It was, like... God. What else didn't he know? What else was he missing?

Frowning to himself, he quietly shut the chest again, shoving it back under their Dad's bed before getting to his feet and wandering out into the hall. He wasn't exactly sure where his feet were taking him at first, but he made his way up one flight of stairs, and then another, and eventually, he was knocking on Donnie's door, cautiously peeking his head inside.

When Donnie turned from his computer to face him, he seemed annoyed at first, but his expression softened quickly at the sight of his little brother. 

"Hey Mikey," he hummed, kind of gesturing for him to come in, which he did. "Any luck with the ghosts?"

"Not really," Mikey admitted, frowning as he shut the door behind him, wrapping his arms around himself in a sad imitation of a hug as he trudged over to the other, plopping down on his bed to sit. "They don't want to tell me anything. They just wanna talk about old stories about evil creatures and the Twilight Zone and a bunch of other stuff I don't understand. But every time I try to talk to them about Dad, they shut me out." 

Donnie sighed loudly, wrinkling his nose. "Yes. Well. I suppose we can't expect it to be easy..." they muttered. "Unfortunately, I'm not having the best luck myself. Everything I'm finding so far just seems... incomplete. Like I'm missing something, some sort of component..." He frowned, leaning over his desk, his cheek squished up against his palm. "I have all this data, but I have no idea how to make any of it work for us. I'm sure that there's some piece I'm missing that would make all this make sense, I just... I have no idea where it is. Or where to find it," he growled.

Mikey sighed a little, flopping down on his side, drawing his legs up to his chest. "Yeah," he muttered. "... I know that we have, like... mystic powers, or whatever. But I don't have any idea how any of it works, and Ghost-Sensei won't teach me. He keeps saying we have to learn 'the basics' first. But we don't have time for the basics," he whined softly. "If they gave me a chance, I know I could figure it out, I just..."

Donnie smiled a tiny bit, glancing over at the other. "You have always had an uncanny knack for those guessing games," he teased gently.

"I'm serious, Dee!" Mikey protested, bristling a bit. "I think I could. I mean. I know I could. I know that this kind of stuff isn't your thing, and I don't expect it to-- I mean--"

He paused, his sentence caught in his throat for just a moment before he turned suddenly to meet his brother’s eyes.

"Donnie, do you see colors?"

Donatello's brows pinched with confusion, his mouth wrinkling slightly. "Uh. Yeah. Of course I see colors. What does that have to do with anything?"

"No, not like that! I mean-- I mean, do you see colors on people? Like. Do you see people's colors? Like. What do you think my colors are? "

Donnie raised a suspicious brow, looking his brother up and down. "... Your colors? I mean... you have brown skin. And your hair is mostly black, except you bleached the tips... your shirt is black..."

"No," Mikey said sharply. "No, Dee, I'm orange."

"Well, I mean, yeah, your bandana is orange, and your pants are orange..."

"I'm not talking about clothes, Dee," Mikey insisted with a sigh. "I'm talking about me. About all of me. Like-- Like, I'm orange. And you're purple . Even if you weren't wearing any purple at all, you'd still be purple. Every time I look at you, I see that you're purple," he pressed. "The same way Dad is white, and April is green, and Carol is yellow. Everyone is totally different! Like-- like your purple and Mrs. Evanway’s purples are different, it’s all totally unique and, and--"

Mikey could feel Donnie's eyes boring into him. He frowned, curling up a bit tighter.

"Look, I know I always talk about, like, our life colors and stuff. And when I was little, I always just thought that that was just something that everyone saw! Especially 'cause Dad has the nicknames, so I just thought... And then eventually I realized that maybe it wasn't , and it might just be me. But any time I ever mentioned it people would act like I was joking or just ‘being Mikey’ or whatever, so I never really... pushed it. I just thought it was this weird thing I did and it didn't mean anything, so I never really talked about it that much, but now I, I dunno, with all this crazy mystic stuff and energies and all that these ghosts are talking about, it feels like, like maybe it might be real? Like, actually for-real real , and I know it sounds weird, and I know it's not your thing, and I know it's not gonna help us, but--"

He finally dared to look back up at his brother, only to be surprised to find Donnie busying himself with opening up a spreadsheet on one of his many computer monitors, hunching over their keyboard to type furiously for a moment.

"Uh... Donnie?"

"Okay," Donnie said, whipping back around to face him, his glasses nearly falling off his nose. "What color was the guy who took Dad?"

Chapter Text

Oh god. He could not do this. What was he thinking? What were any of them thinking?! This was going to be a complete disaster. 

Leo's sneakers were still pointed in the direction of the school, and he was walking towards it, but he wanted oh so desperately to turn tail and run. He wouldn't. He wasn't gonna back out or ditch his family... but oh pizza supreme in the sky did he want to. 

He really, really hoped that this was worth it.

They had all agreed to the plan days ago, discussing it at length and reviewing the pros and cons. And when they had that original conversation, Leo had been all for it! It seemed like a good idea when Donnie pitched it... at the time.  

"Right. So. As you all know, I've been doing some research on the mystic artifacts that we recovered from Dad's room. There's not a ton I can find online, which I was expecting, but I've been doing some analysis on the actual items themselves and some of the readings they're giving, and--"

"You found something?" Raph interrupted, his eyes widening. Donnie had hesitated.

"Well. Not exactly," they had explained, wincing a bit. "There is definitely a pattern in what I'm seeing, and it seems like most mystic energy has a particular molecular build, if you will, so to speak. I mean, it's really not quite as simple as that, it sort of is less molecular and more next-to-molecular... It's pretty fascinating, actually, I mean, I can't imagine that anyone would notice these kinds of signatures unless they were actively looking for them, it’s really only detectable via--"

"Donnie!"

"Right. Sorry. The point is, I have a foundation. I have the buildings of an equation here, but I don't have any values to input into it yet, so I can't do anything with it. And that," they swiveled in their desk chair to point, grinning big. "Is where Mikey comes in."

They had all turned to look at their youngest brother, who absolutely beamed in response, oozing sunshine in a way Leo hadn't seen in nearly two weeks. 

"Did you guys know he can see auras?"

"I'm sorry, he can what?" Raph echoed.

"Well, 'aura' is the placeholder term I'm using for ease of communication at the moment. I'll label it with a proper term later. Mikey likes to call them ‘life colors.’ But the point is, according to Mikey, at least from what he can tell, pretty much everyone in the world has a unique 'life color.' I wasn’t really sure if I was gonna be able to go anywhere with this at first, but after discussing it at length and running a few tests, I’m fairly certain it is, in fact, a measurable mystic quality that I could figure out how to sample. So, in other words, a unique signature. In other other words..."

 Donnie had paused, expecting someone to finish the sentence. His family stared at him blankly. Donnie huffed a bit in annoyance, rolling his eyes.

"In other words, gentleman, (and April,) we have our values . If we know that everyone has a unique 'life color' signature associated with them, in addition to knowing that mystical energy itself has a unique signature associated with it, and if I’m able to detect and read both these signatures with my tech, I can, theoretically, generate a tracking algorithm capable of sweeping and zeroing in on these specific data points, and--"

"And you can find Dad!" Raph finished the sentence this time, his eyes absolutely alight. Wait, really!? They had a lead? They had a lead! Leo had all but jumped up from his seat on Donnie’s bed, bounding over to join his twin at their computer. 

"Alright, Dee! I knew you could do it!" He cheered. "So what are we waiting for!? Let's go get Dad already!"

"Well," Donnie held up his hands, and Leo paused. Wait, well? What was the problem?

"I can generate a tracking algorithm and software with a margin of error. And right now, the data pool we're working with is not especially impressive," Donnie muttered, turning back to the monitors and gesturing to a bunch of charts and numbers that none of them understood. They had all gathered and leaned in to look anyway. "As it stands, anything I build will likely not be especially accurate, if it works at all. I've already spent some time with it, and it turns out that there are... a lot of people in New York City," he said dryly. "Which makes this difficult."

 "Then... what do we do?" April questioned, frowning.

 Mikey had grinned, puffing out his chest. "We get more data!"

Leo had originally suggested that they just go camp in Times Square and people-watch, and collect a shit-ton of data that way, but as Donnie had explained it, it wasn't quite so simple. Just inputting the life colors of random people from off the street wasn't really going to train the AI he was coding to do much of anything. The software he was hoping to build wasn't going to have the same 'gift' as Mikey, and wouldn't be able to just 'see' people's life colors. They'd have to teach it how to do so by associating 'colors' with other data points, such as blood type, birthdays, thermo-magnetic signatures, and a bunch of other fancy words Leo didn't recognize, in order to try to find a pattern that could be used to identify and track such things. So it could learn to ‘see’ life colors on its own. In other words, they could only use the 'life colors' of people who they could find again and collect further data on. People who they could reliably locate over a period of time. People who they were able to access other records for...

And Donnie could hack into the school's database in his sleep. So.

Here they were.

At the time, it had seemed like a reasonable plan. Go to school, Mikey can collect a list of kids and their life colors, Donnie pulls data from the school's records, and the rest of them fill in the blanks with whatever weird tests Donnie said they needed. They were all sneaky enough that they could scan a kid's magnetic energy or whatever incognito. It was a good plan. They had even managed to convince Carol that they were ready to go back to school after several long conversations, insisting that staying home and not seeing any of their friends were just making things worse, etc etc.

But oh my god. Now they were here, walking up to the building, and all Leo could think was this is a horrible idea. He kept trying to tell himself maybe it wouldn't be so bad, maybe not that many kids knew, maybe no one was gonna say anything, but who was he kidding? He was sure the whole ass school had taken notice of their two-week absence and knew perfectly well by now that their dad was missing. It had only been circulating through the news and every social media platform that had ever existed on repeat since it happened. 

Everyone was gonna be looking at him with those sad, sorry-for-you eyes that he couldn't stand. It was gonna be awkward. And he was not even a little bit excited about it.  Dammit, he had had his phone on 'do not disturb' for the past two weeks for exactly this reason. 

But he had said he would do it. So. 

Here they were.

"Alright," Raph said, turning to face the rest of the group, just outside of the front doors. Leo could already feel other kids watching them. He thought back to his and Mikey's conversation that one time when they went to gymnastics. How things were normal, but also weren't at all, and just let them all in the lurch in this uncanny-valley sort of space. "We all know the game plan?"

"Yes sir," they all responded, though not with quite enthusiasm or coordination as they usually did. Leo could tell that everyone was nervous. I mean, jesus. He couldn't blame them.

"Alright," Raph bit the insides of his cheeks. Also nervous. "Everyone keep your phones on. And text the group chat if anything happens. We can always leave if we gotta, I mean, if you guys wanna go home--"

"Oh-ho-ho!" Leo remarked with a grin. "What happened to ‘no skipping class?’"

"Leo--"

"This is a great change of pace," he continued, desperate to break the tension. "But don't worry! We're gonna be fine-- we got this! And if anything happens, we'll just ninja our way out of here, no problem."

"No, if anything happens, we call April's mom to pick us up--"

"Same thing! We've got this one-thousand percent until control. Right, Magic Mike?" Leo teased, nudging his brother, who forced a half-hearted grin in response. "See? He's all over it. Okay, now what's that thing Raph always says? Don’t do anything Raph wouldn’t do? Don't be late to class? That thing! Everyone go do that!" He said, grabbing Donnie by the hand and promptly marching off. 

Oh, he could feel the eyes on the back of his head. But soooo worth it to end the awkward, anxious air. If this was what the entire day was gonna be like, he wasn't gonna make it. He could tell you that right now.

He wasn't sure Donnie was, either. Was he, like, legit shaking? Crap. Okay, come on. We can fix this.

"I mean it, you know," he said, slowing his pace slightly and releasing his grip, shifting into an easy stride next to his twin rather than dragging them along behind him. "You've got this, Dee. If anyone can figure out this whole mess, it's you, right? Once Mikey has all that data stuff, we'll be all set."

"Yeah..." Donnie said, not sounding anywhere near as confident as Leo was used to, staring down at his boots. Aw, man. 

"Oh, come on. Where's your enthusiasm? Where's the brother I know and love?" Leo bade, elbowing him slightly, but failing to make any actual physical contact with him. He had already pushed it by grabbing his hand, no need to pile on top of that... "Where's your... your thing! Your emotionless passion!"

"Here," Donnie mumbled in a tone just barely one step above a whine, hunching his shoulders slightly. "It's fine. I do have this. Today is just gonna suck." 

Leo sighed, squeezing his eyes shut. 

 "... Yeah. I know. We just gotta... get through it. Keep our heads down, muscle through, and once today is over, it's over. No biggie!"

Even he didn't believe it. Regardless, the pair made their way to homeroom-- though at an admittedly much slower pace than usual, with no racing, jumping, leaping, or flipping. It almost felt foreign, and Leo was half tempted to tag his brother and take off running. Muscle memory begged him to. But he knew that neither of them really felt up for it, and besides, the last thing they needed were even more eyes on them. Leo tried to emit his very best, 'do not look at me, talk to me, or fuck with me,' vibes as they entered the classroom, sticking close to his twin. That wasn't usually his forte-- it was more Donnie's, if anything-- but it was at least enough to ward off the masses until the first official bell of the day rang.

Leo's stomach was in absolute fucking knots. 'Cause he knew that he had geometry first period in the upper east wing of the school... and Donnie had history in the west. 

For a moment, he felt like a second grader again, terrified of his twin brother moving on without him and leaving him behind to go to school all by himself. He swallowed hard, lingering in the hallway just long enough to give Donnie a grin and sign a reassurance that he could text him if anything happened. Donnie had frowned, nodded, and they had parted. 

It did not feel good. 

He was trying to talk himself down from the ledge, resisting the urge to run after his brother and tackle him and cling to him, like, no, don't leave me alone!, when he rounded the corner and caught sight of a face across the hall that made him freeze.

"Leo!" Chase immediately called out when they made eye contact.

Dammit. He knew he was forgetting something. Actually, you know what? Fuck geometry. Who needs geometry? Leo made an immediate about-face, spinning on his heels and going exactly back the way he just came. Opting out of this conversation, thank you very much. 

"Leo!" He heard his despite-not-talking-in-literally-two-weeks-technically-still-boyfriend shout from behind him again, no doubt in pursuit, and Leo cursed in every language that he knew, picking up the pace. No no no no. He was so not in the mood for this. This was the last thing he needed. He barely even liked Chase that much on, like, a good day, he was just kinda cute and had decent taste in music! He had no intention of discussing any bit of, like, this whole situation with him. 

Gymnastics lessons, don't fail me now. Leo ducked and weaved past students as fast as he dared, dancing around, over, and occasionally through them, not really caring that much if he bumped or elbowed anyone. Sorry, he had priorities! A quick glance over his shoulder told him that, no, somehow, he still had not lost Chase, who was, in fact, living up to his name at the moment, and oh my god, was he panicking? He was pretty sure he was panicking, great, cool, no problem! Let's run with it! Mikey said that feeling emotions was healthy or whatever, and wow, was he feeling it!

 He nearly wiped out a couple of freshmen as he flung himself around a corner and down a side hall, his sneakers sliding noisily against the linoleum as he all but smacked into the nearest door he could find. Okay, running wasn't working, how about hiding? Just had to duck away somewhere for a minute and lay low, and it'd all be fine, and he wouldn't have to deal with this or talk about any of this or talk to him--

 He blanched when the door failed to budge. What?! No, no, no, come on! Open, you've gotta open! He glanced around frantically for an alternative exit plan, but there was nothing around that he'd be able to get to before Chase caught up.

 "Come on. Come on. Open, open, open, move, dammit, move--" He hissed under his breath, rearing back before shoving against the door with his entire weight.

 He yelped in surprise when he fell flat on his face, gravel stinging his cheeks and shifting beneath him, a shocking blast of icy cold wind cutting through him like a knife. What the--? Leo sat up quickly, brushing the dirt and pebbles from himself with a splutter as he glanced around at his surroundings.

"Oh, for fuck's sake..."

The good news was that he had lost Chase. 

Bad news was that he was on the roof. 

Okay... so we can definitely rule out sleepwalking.

Donnie had learned years ago, though admittedly a bit later than most, that the internet couldn't always be trusted. He knew by now that it wasn't reasonable to always expect things to go the way they were described on online forums or in web articles, and understood the concept of 'expectations VS reality...'

But that didn't make the reality any better.

Because he had come prepared, right? They knew that this was going to suck, and they did what any good scholar would do in such a situation-- research. They had Googled it, had looked up 'what to expect when returning to work/school after a personal tragedy,' (because Googling 'after your Dad gets kidnapped' hadn't yielded any good results and Donnie figured it must have been too specific,) and he had read the WikiHow, the reddit forums, the Quora threads, and all the other articles in between. He had prepped!

But jesus christ. None of them had mentioned how much touching there was going to be.

So far he had been subject to no less than four overly emotional hugs that he had not consented to, (what were they emotional about, anyway?) eleven hand grabs-slash-squeezes, and so many shoulder rubs and gentle arm touches that he had lost count. And every single time, he had to resist the urge to shove them away. And every single time, the touch absolutely lingered, sticking to him like tree sap and covering him up like mushrooms and spores and burning him.

God. They hated this. Hated this, hated this, hated this. They were trying so hard to keep their mind focused, to concentrate on the task in front of them and the reason they were here, but their head was already all fuzzy and thick, feeling as though it had been stuffed full of fountain grass. Everyone kept coming up to them to talk to them, to say that they were so sorry to hear about their dad and if there was anything they can do and they hope things work out soon and blah blah blah, all these stupid, pointless, unpleasant emotions that they just kept dumping over his head until he was soaked and shivering and freezing cold, drenched down to his bones. The entire school was getting louder and louder by the second. Had the teacher's heels always clicked like that? And had the lights in the classroom always been so goddamn bright?

The kid behind him in his third period class popped their gum and Donnie stood up, grabbed his stuff, and walked out. 

He was pretty sure his teacher said something, but he was not even listening to her a little bit. Sorry, nope, nu-uh, not today, they were leaving, or else they were absolutely going to vomit. They had no idea where they were going but they just-- they had to be-- not here. 

 Please, just somewhere else. 

They quickened their pace through the hallways, eyes darting around, looking desperately for a place to just hide for a little bit, just somewhere else, because they were about to lose their mind. Their tongue was all thick and swollen and stuck to the roof of their mouth and their head was buzzing like it was filled up with wasps and their joints were all tight, like they had just run a marathon, like they were being chased-- they knew there was somewhere to go. He knew this. Come on, Donatello, think. You've studied the blueprints of the school. Calm down, focus-- where are you going?

One left and a right, third door from the left. Supply closet. This is where he’s going.

Donnie practically threw himself into the closet, yanking the door shut behind him, flicking off the lights, and sinking down to the ground, curling up into the littlest ball he could become and burying his head between his knees, because no, no, he’s not having a panic attack. Not right now. Not before he even makes it halfway through the day, goddammit, no, he’s fine. Everything is fine. 

It's... it's fine. Donnie swallowed hard, squeezing his eyes shut and wiggling his wrists back and forth, anxious and jittery, just barely tapping his knuckles against the sides of his head as he tried to focus on breathing. Yeah. No. Things were totally fine. He was not freaking out. He was not sitting here, absolutely fucking terrified that someone was going to burst in through the door looking for him any second now.

Nope. Not him. He was... all good.

Please, for the love of the known, observable universe-- and even the unknown, unobservable parts!-- just leave me alone. Just let it be quiet for a while.

He swallowed thickly, biting the edges of his tongue, fighting to settle. He pressed his shoulders up against the cold, hard metal door behind him, trying desperately to ground himself, to be here, in reality, and not float off and spiral. The sound of approaching footsteps just barely breached the protective net of his headphones, and he bristled, every muscle in his body tensing, poised to run-- only for his hackles to lower again when the sound passed on, walking past the closet without disturbing him. 

They’re gonna look for you, an unwelcome little voice in his head warned. Donnie frowned.

No, they’re not. It’s fine.

They are. You ran right out of class. Everyone already thinks you’re crazy even on a good day-- let alone today. They’re looking for you. They’ll find you.

People don’t think I’m crazy. They’re not looking for me. It’s fine. We-- we have time. We just need to calm down, and we’ll go back. They’re not gonna find us.

They will. They’re gonna show up any second.

They’re not. You don’t know that.

You don’t know that they won’t.

They won’t. It’s fine.

You don’t know. How could you know? There’s no way of knowing.

Things could still get worse!

They could be here any second!

You don’t know!

The click and clatter of metal-on-metal cut through Donnie the same way he imagined being stabbed would be like, and he absolutely froze. But to his surprise, the door didn’t fall away behind him. No harsh light or chiding voice invaded the space. Everything remained… just as it was.

So what was that noise?

After taking a moment to build up enough courage and clarity to give in to curiosity, he slowly unwound all his muscles, sitting up properly and looking around. And, in fact, it took almost no time at all for him to identify the source.

Looped firmly around the door handle was a small padlock that had most certainly not been there before, constructed entirely, it seemed, of violet light in a very familiar shade.

Fascinating... Did I make this?

Donnie leaned in to examine the item, running his fingers along the edges of it, investigating, testing it a few times and tugging at it lightly. It was a fairly primitive thing, from what he could tell, but it was most certainly doing its job, keeping the door firmly shut and not giving way when he pulled. Well. He supposed he was going to be in here for a while. Not that he really minded. Sighing deeply, he sat back down, pulling his bag off of his back and quickly retrieving his laptop.

Thank god. Data collection.

It wasn't that people weren't being nice. They were. Everyone was being super nice! Several of Raph’s teachers had taken him aside to tell him not to worry about any missed work or his grades right now. In every single class, classmates took the time to offer hugs and words of encouragement. Members of the football team and basketball team alike sought him out in the halls to present him with a Build-A-Bear gift card that they had all pitched in to get with a promise that they could all go out together whenever he was down for it. He had, admittedly, teared up a tiny bit.

It was really, really lovely. It was wonderful to know that so many people cared about him and were concerned about him.

So why did he still feel so awful?

Raph felt almost ungrateful, plodding through the school with this big weight on his shoulders, his entire frame feeling like it was rotting rapidly beneath his skin. He was absolutely surrounded by people; swaths and seas of them, and half of them knew him, half of them were concerned about him. So why did he feel like he was all by himself in a big empty cavern?

I wonder if the others are okay, he had thought.

Are people being cool with them, too?

But what if they are? Leo might not like it. He loves attention, but not that kind. It might freak him out. Donnie too.

What if people are giving Donnie hugs? He hates that. He'll be miserable. 

Are all their teachers telling them not to worry about their grades, either? Are Mikey's teachers letting him get off without make-up work? He already tries so hard with school as it is. What if he ends up having to do a bunch of extra on top of it all? 

And what if their grades slip? That's really important to Donnie. They're gonna be devastated if their GPA gets tanked.

Is April good? Is she getting overwhelmed? Are people asking her lots of questions? People aren’t pestering me so far for details, but what if they think it’s okay to pester April like that because she wasn't, technically speaking, a Hamato? She was. It wasn't okay. What if people were looking to her for answers?

What if this was a horrible plan?

Well, technically, it wasn't even your plan. It was Donnie's plan.

But it was your plan to use Donnie's plan! And you're the biggest brother. You're responsible.

Man, why the hell are you here right now?! You should be with them! You should be taking care of them!

Why? You've been with them all week, and the week before that, and ain't helped at all! 

Raph could feel a twitch developing in his eye, much to his annoyance. It did very little to soothe him as he moved through the day, and every five minutes, Mind-Raph asked, 'is it time to panic yet?'

He got through to nearly fourth period before the answer was yes, it is, in fact, time to panic. Not the ideal answer.

He wasn't even sure what set it off, actually. He only did about half the time, which was by far the most frustrating part, because when he didn't know he just felt like he was floundering blindly at nothing for no good reason. He had been in the hallway, moving between classes, a raindrop in the ocean of other students all doing the same thing, and some younger kid had darted past him, seemingly in a rush, sort of knocking into his arm-- maybe that was what did it. He wasn't exactly sure, because usually, that wouldn't bother him at all. 

It did today.

This didn't happen often, really, but every time it did, it was like, oh, great, here we go again, and he'd brace himself for the coming ride. Because it fucking sucked. The room was spinning and his legs were going out from under him and his chest was compressing and his throat was closing up and his eyes were fucking deteriorating in his head.

Not really. He was okay. He could still breathe, or, well, hyperventilate, at least. He was still on his feet, even if he was shaking.... But it wasn't like he could tell. Fuck. The world was ending, maybe? No, it wasn't. Get it together. Get a grip, Raph, it's fine, it's fine, it's fine, except no, it's not, I can't breathe, why can't I get a goddamn breath?! He hated doing this. 

People were still moving around him, and he grabbed the nearest locker he could get to as an anchor, pressing his palm against it as he tried to remember how to breathe. Cold. Smooth. Hard. Grounding , right? Donnie taught you this . He was vaguely aware of a few kids lingering, taking notice of his panic, touching his back and asking if he was okay. Raph didn't have it in him to speak right now, but he wanted so badly to snap at them to leave him alone. Couldn't they tell he was already using all of his energy to not completely lose it, flip out, and punch a hole through the wall? Again?! It had been a nightmare the first time when Dad had to deal with that, he did not want to put that on Mrs. O'Neil's plate.

"Hey, come on, back up, give him some room to breathe, would ya?"

This voice was loud enough that Raph could hear it over his own shuddering, and he shifted slightly, his eyes darting to the side. He knew this guy. Jason-- they skateboarded together sometimes. He was really good. He had a pet leopard gecko he had seen many pictures of. He was Mikey's age; more his friend than Raph's own, but regardless, he had been over to their apartment a few times. They weren't crazy close or anything-- but they were friends.

That was more than enough for him right now.

"You good, dude?" Jason said, softer now, leaning in towards Raph just a tiny bit, but still keeping his distance. "I mean-- do you want me to text your brothers or something?"

Raph squeezed his eyes shut, swallowing hard before giving a short shake of his head.

No. No, he'd be okay. He just needed a minute. He didn't want to make them all worry about this when they had a job to do. 

God, he just hoped that they were all having a better day than he was... and not getting themselves into any kinds of messes.

Mikey could feel hot blood splatter across his knuckles as his clenched fist made contact with Zach's nose, a satisfying crunch echoing through his hand, up his wrist, and then bouncing around in his ribs. The martial arts tournaments he competed in were great. He loved them, really. But they felt nothing like this.

Wait. Sorry. We're jumping ahead.

Was the first day back at school after nearly two weeks off stressful? Yeah, of course it was. Mikey had been pretty jittery when he got to school this morning, dancing on his toes and fidgeting with his spinner ring, fussing with the beads in his hair, and worrying the corners of his lips between his teeth. But it actually hadn't been as bad as he had thought.

They had said they wanted to 'get back into the routine' to Mrs. O'Neil as an excuse to get her to let them come, but honestly, it was almost kind of good? Yeah, things were still weird, and he was still worried and scared, but it wasn't like with gymnastics. When he was at gymnastics, it just felt like they were there to be there-- just as an excuse to ignore what was going on and pretend like it wasn't happening.

But they were at school for a reason. They had a lead. And, more importantly, Mikey had a job to do. 

 He had latched on tight to his assigned task-- dug his fingers in like he was burrowing into clay, pressing in until his entire fist had sunk inside, and then took off running. Really, he liked being occupied. ADHD was a bitch sometimes, but today, the stars must have aligned because it was all systems go. He knew exactly what he was doing, and his brain was completely and utterly focused on this task. Yes, it was genuinely nice to see all his friends and teachers again after so long... but that wasn't the point. None of the fear and anxiety and stress was touching him right now because he had a job.

Because he loved getting to see Rebecca again and discuss how her hamster was doing at home, and because she was this deep, dark, rich turquoise color, ever so slightly bluer than it was green. And because getting to see his favorite teacher, Mr. Ovin, was great, and he was all sweet and reassuring, and he was a deep, warm gray, like fog in the summer. It was great because Timothy was indigo, just edging on violet. It was great because Dale was yellowy-orange like cantaloupe. Because Taylor was hot pink. Because José was golden-brown. Because Mona was midnight blue. 

 His list was already fifty-strong before they even hit lunch period, and Mikey was absolutely giddy. Yeah, baby! If this wasn't enough data to get them started, he swore he'd eat his own watercolor set. Surely this was, if nothing else, a good start, and he was already just chomping on the bit to tell the rest of his family. Donnie was gonna be thrilled, he was sure--

"Mikey!"

It was not the first time that day someone had yelled for his attention. In fact, the day had been absolutely littered with them-- Mikey could hardly take a step without someone looking to speak with him and check in with him now that he was in school. So he paused in his steps, his eyes chasing after the sound of the calling voice until he found Zach, dodging through throngs of students to make his way over.

"Hey, Zach!" Mikey greeted, offering a grin-- a genuine one, too, all wide and toothy. 

"Hey! Hey, Mikey. Uhhh. Good to see you back." 

"Thanks," Mikey replied. Not the first time he heard that today, either, but it was still nice to think that his absence had meant something to people. 

"Yeah, yeah. So, uh, do you have that commission done yet?"

Mikey blinked. 

"Commission?"

"Yeah! Yeah, remember, you were gonna do a portrait of Abby, for her birthday?" Zach laughed nervously. "I was kind of worried you were gonna miss it, you were gone so long, but--"

"No?"

"What?" Zach paused, his eyebrows raising, and Mikey frowned, hesitating a second before he found new words, quickly scrambling, re-evaluating, and re-writing.

"Uh, sorry," he laughed nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. "I mean, I don't have it done yet. I've kind of got commissions on hold right now? So... I dunno when it's gonna get done. Sorry, dude."

"... But her birthday is on Wednesday."

"Sorry," Mikey repeated.

"And I paid you in advance."

Mikey grit his teeth. Oh, yeah, paid him a whole twenty dollars in advance...? 

"Yeah, sorry, but--"

"Well, what am I supposed to give her?"

"I dunno. Figure something out?"

Oh. Oh, actually,

"What do you mean figure something out? I did! I paid you!"

Actually... Maybe the stress,

"Do you want your money back?"

Was still here.

"No, I want my portrait! Do you know how pissed she's gonna be if I don't have anything to give her on Wednesday?"

His head was suddenly remembering how little he had slept over the past two weeks.

"That's really not my problem."

His eyes suddenly remembered how many tears they had shed.

"Dude, are you serious?!"

His throat suddenly remembered the ache of howling.

"Are you serious? I dunno if you've heard, but I'm a little bit busy right now! Your girlfriend's birthday commission isn't really a priority right now!" Mikey snapped, feeling himself bristle.

"You've literally not shown up for school for two weeks, what do you mean busy!?"

"I'm not on vacation, Zach! I've been with my family!"

"For two weeks!?" Zach protested. "Look, dude, I'm really sorry your dad died, but this was really important to--"

Mikey froze.

"Excuse me?" He hissed. "What did you just say?"

"Come on, Mike, this was really--"

"My dad isn't dead," Mikey whispered. His head felt all hot. He felt like a goddamn candle. The rest of his body was melting, but his head was just heat and nothing else. "He's missing. He's not dead ."

"Okay, look, I didn't mean--"

Mikey shoved him. Not hard. But not soft, either.

"Leave me alone," he spat, and even though he was all heat, all bright reds and oranges and yellows, his voice was cold and white like ice, like the month of December. Zach stumbled a bit, his mouth gaping dumbly like a fish, and Mikey watched and waited with absolutely bated breath to see how he would respond. Zach was a junior. He was a lot taller than Mikey was. Bigger, too. And his life color was orange, Mikey noted in the back of his mind. Bright, dazzling, almost scarlet orange.

He could feel students nearby pausing, lingering, beginning to turn heads and slow their footsteps in order to watch and see what was going to happen.

Zach's face contorted with indignant fury, and he stepped forward to shove Mikey right back. Mikey let his body take the momentum with absolute grace-- let his feet be forced back a few steps, falling into stance once they found the ground again. He lowered his body slightly, squaring his shoulders, finding his center of gravity, and taking it in both hands. Suddenly, he felt very calm.

That was exactly what Mikey was hoping he would do.  

Jeez Louise, at this rate, I'm gonna give Taylor Martin a run for her money...

April was rapidly growing annoyed with the number of people who, up until now, didn't want anything to do with her, but were now suddenly quite concerned about both her well-being and the state of her brothers. She had gotten just about as many questions as she had condolences, which she had no idea how to receive. I mean, god, what's the appropriate response to people asking those kinds of things? Were they doing okay? Uh, I dunno, that's sort of a loaded question! 

She was also suddenly becoming uncomfortably aware of how many kids in their grade had a thinly-veiled crush on Raph, which she was not too pleased with. Like, good for him or whatever, (not that she thought he had the slightest clue,) but she didn't need to know all that, thank you! Yes, Melissa, I'll tell him you said hi, but don't you two have physics together!? Jeez! Stupid giant quarterback little brother...

April grumbled as she made her way into chemistry class, making a beeline to her usual seat and immediately laying her head down in her arms with a scowl. Maybe if she was lucky, people would get the hint and not bother her. Not that that had worked out so far...

"Bad day?"

April took a long, deep breath, and then slowly let it back out, picking up her head just enough to watch Sunita take her seat next to hers, offering a weak, sympathetic little smile in her direction. She had almost forgotten there was someone she actually liked in this class.

"Something like that," April said with a wry smile, wrinkling up her nose a bit before laying her head back down. "I know how this sounds, but I am soooo sick of people caring about me and my brothers."

"Uh oh... Kind of a lot, huh?" Sunita mumbled, wincing a bit, and April nodded a little, wrapping her arms around herself and frowning.

"I know people are just trying to be nice or whatever, but it's just... I dunno. Can you just let us breathe?! I hope they're not being this pushy with the guys because it's a lot for me and it's not even technically my dad, I mean, they're a total mess, I just--" She caught herself, biting her tongue. "Sorry. I'm just a little worried about them. And kind of annoyed," she admitted, rolling her eyes. "It's fine."

Sunita didn't respond right away, and when April glanced over at her again, there was this funny sort of expression on her face that April couldn't quite place. She frowned, about to say something, when Sunita nodded, biting the insides of her cheeks.

"Yeah. I get it. I mean. Gob. I can't imagine... I'm sure it must be stressful…"

April hesitated a second before she responded again. "It's a lot. But. You know. We're... handling it," she said, readjusting her glasses quickly. "Sorry. Can we just, like, talk about something else?"

"Oh! Right. Right, sorry, I'm being just as bad as everyone else!" Sunita gasped, her face flushing. "Sorry. Uh. What do you wanna-- uh-- did you… see the new episode of that barbecue show that just came out? I think Mikey would like it, uhm, they made some really bold choices..."

If April was being honest, she wasn't really listening. Sorry, Sunita. But she appreciated the white noise, at least, allowing herself to tune out for a while, scribbling black zig-zags and wriggles aimlessly in the margin of her notebook until class started properly. And, actually, even after class started properly. She was usually pretty focused at school and took her studies seriously. I mean, not as seriously as some people, but she got good grades! She just wasn't really feeling it today. Whatever. Her notes may suck, but at least she had something. She was sure Donnie could teach her whatever this was later. 

Class seemed to last a millennia, dragging along as April doodled and tried to keep her mind off of the rest of her family. God, she really hoped that this plan worked... if it did, it would be worth a million of these shitty school days. 

 She just really hoped that this wasn't for nothing.

She could see Sunita repeatedly giving her anxious, worried looks out of the corner of her eyes, fidgeting with her headband and frowning to herself. Honestly, she knew that their opening conversation had been a bit awkward, but it wasn't worth Sunita stressing over like this. Ugh. Maybe she should apologize or something later... It wasn't like she was mad or anything, she was just... tired.

 She was just really, really tired.

 April wasted no time at all in swiping her books from off the desk when the bell finally, blissfully rang, dismissing her from this class and shuffling the whole school on to the next. She didn't expect that the next class would be any better, but at least she'd be that much closer to the end of the day... Before she could get very far, however, she felt a hand clamp around her wrist.

 "... Sunita?" April questioned, raising a brow. "Uh. Is something wrong?"

"Yes! I mean. No! I mean. Oh..! Hang on, just... just... c'mere!" Sunita bit out, chewing nervously at her fingernails as she yanked April from the classroom, moving with such fervor that April nearly lost her footing, giving a surprised little yelp as she stumbled after the other.

 "Sunita! Whoa, girl, hang on!!! Where the heck are we going?"

 "Somewhere... else! Just, just, hang on! You've just gotta trust me, okay?" Sunita hissed, quickly ducking around a corner, all but shoving April into the first empty classroom that they found, hurriedly shutting the door behind her.

 "Wha-- girl, what is going on!?" April spluttered, looking around frantically. She really liked Sunita, but this had better not be her coming onto her or something, 'cause it was so not the time--

"I just-- oh, gob, I'm going to get in so much trouble. What am I doing?! This is so so so against the rules... Okay. Okay. Buck up, Sunita," the other girl squeaked, seemingly pep-talking herself, pacing out several rapid back-and-forth laps across the linoleum floor before she suddenly whipped around to meet April's eyes, grabbing her firmly by her shoulders.

"I know where Mr. Hamato is."

Chapter Text

After drafting and deleting seven different texts to the quote-unquote "Mad Dogz" group chat that did not even come close to summarizing the conversation she just had, April finally gave up, instead just texting, "where is everyone???? emergency huddle asap"

Not more than fifteen seconds after she sent that off, her phone started buzzing with a call from Raph. Y’know, she wasn't sure what she had expected.

 "Are you okay? What's goin' on?" Raph demanded the second she picked up the call, and she had to bite back a breathless, shaky little laugh. She knew it wasn't nice, and that he was just wound up and worried, but she was still just buzzing from the conversation she had just had with Sunita. It wasn't him, she was just-- overwhelmed. In a good way?

"I'm fine! I'm fine. It's-- it's a good emergency, I swear. Where are you?"

"I just ducked outta class. I'm on the third floor. Where we meetin'?"

"Okay. Uh. Head towards the south stairwell, and I'll figure out where the others are and we'll go from there." 

"Raph's got it! See ya soon."

April ended the call, heading off in the direction of their agreed rendezvous point with hurried steps, struggling to find an appropriate pace. She fought the urge to sprint through the halls, knowing that this was just going to bring unwanted attention her way... but every bit of her body was absolutely alight with energy. The exhaustion from earlier had melted away. Her entire circulatory system had all been replaced with adrenaline, and she was just shining, all lit up in every sense. 

Things were gonna be okay. Things were gonna be okay. Things were gonna be okay.

Raph beat her to the stairwell, and April was thrilled because there was no way she could stand to sit around and wait for anything right now. The second the door to the stairwell was closed behind her, and they were away from any prying eyes, her carefully measured steps turned into an ecstatic bounce-and-hop motion, closing the small gap between the two of them with an excited squeak as she threw her arms around her brother and squeezed him as tight as she possibly could.

"Whoa," Raph blinked in surprise, shifting slightly to correct his footing and prevent his older sister from straight-up tripping over him. "Did somethin' happen?"

"YES!" April exclaimed. "Yes, yes, yes! It's-- it's a really long story and I really really wanna tell you absolutely everything right now but it's gonna be so much easier to wait until we have everyone even though it is killing me but it's-- it's good! Raph, I think everything is gonna work out!!!"

Her cheeks ached from grinning.

"It's not simple or anything, but I just-- I really, really, really think things might actually end up being okay." 

His expression wasn't quite readable to her-- it was somewhere between excited and confused and hesitant, with stress and exhaustion coloring it all, but it was still the best expression she had seen on him in over two weeks and it made all the hair on her body stand up with goosebumps and just.

God.

She wanted her dumb extended family back together and happy again so so so bad.

"Wha--?! April, you can't just say that and then not explain nothin'--!" Raph protested, and April shook out her hands, flicking her wrists back and forth as if to shake away the excess energy.

"I know! I know, I promise I'll explain everything! We just gotta get the rest of the guys first! It's really complicated... did anyone else text back yet?"

"Uhhh..." Raph fished his phone out of his pocket, and his eyes immediately bugged out of his head. Oooh, that can't be good. April leaned over to see.

[ Mikey: principals office :p i can prbly sneak out tho

Donnie: I'm currently occupying Supply Closet 33C, located on the left side of the second floor of the East Wing. It is labeled as such on the school's blueprints.

Leo: lmao wtf y'all

Leo: im on the roof tho ]

"WHAT THE--!?"

"Oh my god," April groaned, burying her face in her hands.

"IT'S ONLY BEEN ONE DAY!!!"

"It's-- it's fine! We can go get 'em, it'll be fine!"

"WHAT HAPPENED TO THE PLAN?! AND TEXTING IF ANYTHING HAPPENED?! HOW DID HE GET ON THE FREAKIN' ROOF!?--"

"RAPH!" April grabbed the other's shoulders, shaking him briefly. "Chill! It's fine. Okay? We'll kick their asses later. Let's just go collect them first and get out of here, okay? Way bigger fish to fry, remember?"

He groaned loudly, tilting his head back, biting his lip, all but sulking with his arms crossed over his chest. "... Fine."

Thank god. Raph may be a dumbass sometimes, but he was way more reasonable than he let on... usually. April sighed softly, offering a fist to bump.

"Come on. Team Big Sibling?"

"Yeah... okay. Team Big Sibling. Let's go bail those knuckleheads out."

Raph watched the cup fall, but he still jumped and winced at the sound of ceramic shattering on the ground.

“Oops,” Leo said. Suddenly he didn’t want to be standing on the counter quite so bad anymore, and quickly scuttled his way back down.

“Leo!” Raph huffed in annoyance, immediately on his feet. “I told you you were gonna knock somethin’ over!”

“Yeah, but I wanted to--”

“Raph doesn’t wanna hear it! Go get a broom or somethin’ so we can clean it up before Dad sees!” Raphael insisted, all but shooing his brother away. Leo groaned loudly, rolling his eyes and scowling, but obeyed regardless, running off to go and retrieve the requested tool. Raph huffed, moving to begin cleaning up the evidence of the crime… this was one of Dad’s favorite mugs. Hopefully, he didn’t hear the shattering glass from the back garden with Mikey. Mikey was pretty loud. With any luck, this secret would die with them.

“... How do you do that?” April questioned after a moment, tilting her head to the side, leaning over the side of the couch as she observed the exchange from the living room.

Raph paused slightly, his brows furrowing. “Do what?”

“Get ‘em to listen to you like that.” 

“Oh,” Raph said. “Well, they don’t always listen to me.”

“Yeah, but they do when you really want ‘em to.”

Raph frowned a little, considering this for a moment before shrugging. “Because I’m the biggest, I guess.”

April laughed, “Like you’ll beat them up if they don’t do what you say?”

“No!” Raph protested. “... Well, I mean, yeah, kinda. But also ‘cause I’m the big brother! They have to.”

“Why?”

“‘Cause. Dad said I’m in charge when he’s not here. I’m responsible, and all that other junk,” he explained proudly.

“Well, like, yeah, but why? Why do you gotta be the responsible one just ‘cause you were born first?”

“Uh… I dunno. I guess just ‘cause they’re littler and they don’t know as much stuff yet,” he said. 

“But Donnie is really smart. He knows lots of stuff.”

“Well…”

“He wins at the trivia games every single time we play. And Scrabble!”

Raph hesitated a bit, shrugging a little as he picked up pieces of ceramic off the floor. “I guess there’s stuff that they know that I don’t. But I still gotta take care of ‘em and protect them and stuff. It’s just what big brothers do. It’s our job.” 

“You can’t have a job,” April said with a snort. “You’re eight.”

“Yeah, but I want to,” he said. “... I like taking care of ‘em and stuff. I dunno. Maybe you just do that when you’re born first. Automatically. Like, just ‘cause they’re littler. And so you wanna keep them safe and make sure no one hurts them and nothing bad happens or anything.”

April narrowed her eyes slightly behind her glasses, and Raph looked slightly to the side.

“And I kinda like getting to tell them what to do sometimes!”

April laughed, and this time Raph joined her. “Well, sometimes they deserve it!” He insisted, tossing the mug pieces in the trash, taking care to drop them in such a way that they would fall down to the bottom and not be visible from the top. As biggest brother, he knew by now how to destroy evidence. He flopped back over onto the couch with April once he was done, jostling her slightly, leaning into her on purpose as he did so. She squealed in response, pushing him back, and the two shoved and pushed in between giggles for a moment before they finally settled in a heap across the cushions, sort of splayed out across one another and staring up at the ceiling. 

April breathed in deep before giving a very soft sigh.

“I wish I was a big sister.”

Raph glanced over at the other, hesitating a moment before he spoke up again.

“You kinda are, though.”

She paused, moving to meet his eyes with a look of surprise.

“You think so?”

“Well. Yeah! I mean. We hang out all the time,” Raph said, shrugging. “And you come to our house after school. And we go to your house on the weekends. And you eat dinner with us sometimes, and we do sleepovers, and we have all our birthdays together… And they listen to you, too, when you want ‘em too. And you know how to talk with Donnie, and you keep an eye on Mikey, and you laugh at Leo’s jokes--”

“I’m not being nice! I really do think they’re funny!”

“-- so I think that basically counts, probably.”

April wrinkled her nose up with thought.

“Does that mean you’re not the biggest brother?”

“Wait, what!?” Raph floundered for a moment, rolling back over onto his stomach so he could face April properly. “No! Raph’s the biggest brother!” He couldn’t not be the biggest brother! He had always been the biggest brother! It was his job to look after his little brothers, to always protect them and take care of them and make sure they were safe. That was what Raph did! And he was good at it!

“But you can’t be the biggest if I’m your sister!” April argued. “I’m seven months older than you are!”

“Yeah but-- but that’s different!”

“Why? You just said I’m a big sister.”

“Yeah, but, I meant, like… like to everyone else!”

“So I’m not your sister?”

“No! I mean-- you are-- but--” Raph screwed up his face. “I still wanna be the big brother, April! You can’t just un-biggest me!”

April frowned, looking the other up and down, considering for a moment, before she finally sighed.

“Okay, fine. I guess we can probably both be the big siblings together, then. Deal?”

Raph sighed in relief, flopping down on the couch again and extending his hand.

“Deal.”

After assuring their little brothers that they were on their way, Raph and April had started on the journey towards the Principal's office to retrieve the littlest Hamato, taking care to dodge any hall monitors, faculty, or staff, and intensely plotting their rescue mission as they went.

"Alright, and you're sure that you can do a believable impression of Hugh Jackman?"

"Yeah, of course I can!" Raph blustered. "I mean... how hard can it be? It'll be over the phone anyway. You know stuff always sounds weird over the phone."

"Raph, come on! If we can't get the secretary to go look at her car's check engine light, this plan is never gonna get Mikey out of there!"

"Raph can do it! I swear! And if this doesn't work, we still have the backup plan--"

"No, we don't, remember? I only brought the strawberry chapstick today, my peach-flavored one is at home--"

"What are you guys talking about?" Mikey interrupted, poking his head from around the corner. April and Raph both jumped.

"MIKEY!" Raph yelped, struggling to keep his voice level. "We-- you-- what are you doin' here?! I thought you were in the principal's office!"

"Well yeah, I was, but then I left to come meet you guys!"

"How'd you get out!?" April questioned, and Mikey shrugged.

"Oh, it's easy. You just have to cry hard enough that the receptionist offers to go get you some water, and then you walk out," Mikey explained. "That's what I always do."

"What you always do?!" Raph spluttered. "What do you mean what you always-- what the heck happened, anyway?! Why were you in there in the first place? Are you okay? Did you-- what happened to your hand?!"

Raph wasn't meaning to, uhhh, spiral like this exactly, but they were all valid questions, he was pretty sure! He grabbed his little brother's wrist to examine his knuckles, which were somewhat bloodied, scabbed, and swollen. 

"I'm fine!" Mikey whined in protest, trying to wriggle his way out of his brother's grip. "It's not a big deal--"

"Did you get into a fight?!"

"Well--"

"Mikey!"

"Calling it a fight might be a little generous,” Mikey muttered, rolling his eyes. “Honestly, Raph, I'm fine! I can take care of myself!" He insisted, squirming away, darting behind April as if to shield himself. Raph was feeling that eye twitch coming back on. ‘Not a big deal!?’ What did he mean, ‘not a big deal!?’ They had talked about this before!!! What if he got hurt!? And this kind of thing went on his permanent record, you know, didn't he understand that they weren't little kids anymore!? He could get into real trouble--

"Can't we talk about this later?" Mikey insisted, holding his hands up to plead, batting his eyes. "Leo and Donnie are still waiting! Remember?"

"Okay, look," April interrupted. "Mikey has a point. Let's get Leo and Donnie first, and then you guys can do your whole... whatever this thing that you’re doing is. Okay?"

Raph groaned, grinding his teeth, scrubbing at his face with his hands. Right. He still had two other little brothers he had to round up... and one of them was on the roof. Aw, man. He swore he could feel himself going gray...

"Fine. But this conversation is not over," he hissed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Where next?"

"Let's go grab Leo," April sighed. "Since he's probably freezing his butt off, and then we'll snag Donnie on our way back down and skip out of here. Sound good?"

"How did Leo get onto the roof?" Mikey questioned, already making his way towards the staircase, the other two following after.

"I. Don't. Know." Raph grit out as they made their way back into the stairwell, heading on up. He had never been up to the roof before-- could they even get up there? Surely they must be able to, given that Leo had gotten up there in the first place, right? He could only assume that the door had locked behind him. He wondered dimly how long he had been up there, wrinkling up his nose with worry. Leo got cold pretty easily... all of them did, actually, it ran in the family, and it wasn't exactly nice outside. Certainly not freezing or anything, but brisk. The last thing they needed was for him to get sick or something...

He picked up the pace, taking two steps at a time. Mikey kept up with ease, and April complained from behind them, lagging somewhat. Sorry, Apes! Little brother to rescue. 

Like most buildings in NYC, their school was big and tall, so it was a little bit of a trek to get to the top of the staircase. Luckily, they had already started about halfway up, and, just as Raph had been hoping, the door did, in fact, open from the inside. Thank god. Raph made a mental note not to let that shut behind them and trap all of them up here.

"Leo!" He called, looking around frantically. He had to be up here, right? They only had one roof? He was almost certain-- wait, what if there was a second roof he didn't know about?! And they were on the wrong roof?!

"Hey, big brother." Leo's voice was a lazy drawl, and he peered from behind the door, where he had been posted up against the wall, just out of sight once the door had swung open. "Took you guys long enough."

Oh good. He was here. He was okay. 

This was ideal because this way Raph could throttle him.

"Leo!" He exclaimed, turning to face him properly. "What are you doin' on the roof?! How long have you been up here!?"

"Uhhh..." Leo had the audacity to check his watch. "I dunno. Like. Four hours?"

"FOUR HOURS?! Leo, it's freezin' up here!"

"It's n-not that b-bad," Leo insisted, giving a wave. "It's, like... peaceful or whatever. I took a n-nap."

"You took a--?! How did you even get up here!? Why didn't you text somebody!?"

"Uhhh..." Leo pursed his lips, tilting his head back, staring up at the sky. He rolled his shoulders, humming softly, shuffling his feet a bit. "... I dunno!"

"You don't--? How can you not--?!"

Raph caught his tongue. He took a long, deep breath, and then sighed in an exhale. He shucked off his flannel so that he could wrap it around his younger brother instead, adding it over top of his hoodie and pulling him inside before he could protest-- dragging him into the building where it was safe and warm, closing the door firmly behind them.

Leo could act and put on airs all he wanted, but it was obvious just from looking at him that he was cold. Raphael wasn't that dumb. He didn't consider himself to be smart, exactly, but he wasn't dumb, either. 'Least not about this stuff.

“Raph, I’m fine, I don’t need--”

"Raph doesn’t wanna hear it. Keep the flannel on, you’re freezing. Come on. Let's go get Donnie."

Raph held the dustpan while Leo swept, repeatedly shifting his position to catch any remnants of broken ceramics that were left behind. 

“Is that all of it?” Leo questioned, leaning over to see, and Raph gave an affirmative nod, getting to his feet and moving to dump the last of the evidence in the garbage can.

“Yep! All set!” Raph affirmed, giving his younger brother a thumbs up. “No one’ll suspect a thing!”

Leo didn’t look so sure. “Yeah, but won’t Dad notice that the mug is missing?”

“Nah, don’t worry about it!” Raph assured, slinging an arm around the other’s shoulder. “We’ll just come up with a cover story. Like. Uhhh. We’ll say someone broke in and stole it or something! Or… well. Raph’ll come up with a plan! Dad’ll never know,” he insisted. He’d have to work on that later. He really wasn’t very good at that kind of thing, and he had no idea what he’d say, but he’d figure it out. He always did! Leo laughed a little bit, wrinkling up his nose with amusement. 

“Are you sure?”

“Course I’m sure!” Raph declared, puffing out his chest a bit. “Don’t worry. Raph has got your back. Even when you’re bein’ stupid.”

It wasn't that Casey didn't understand that the grand mission that her Clan had in the wings demanded sacrifice. She was well aware, and furthermore, perfectly willing to make those sacrifices. She had already made many over the course of her life, and she didn't regret a thing. Her former life, her education, former hobbies... none of that mattered even half as much as the path she was on now. She understood sacrifice. She was willing to sacrifice. 

But dammit, did she always have to be on lookout duty!?

Casey grumbled softly to herself, shifting her weight from foot to foot. She could only sit in one position on this dumb rooftop for so long before her legs started to go to sleep. She had been tempted for over an hour now to take a quick lap around the block, but she didn't dare leave her post. She was tasked with watching the Hamato household-- so watch the Hamato household she would. 

She had been doing this for days now, though it felt like longer, sharing shifts with other recruits of the Foot Clan. Though, of course, now that Jocelyn had been promoted to a full member of the Foot Clan, she would no longer be subject to such menial tasks. Cassandra had nearly broken a tooth this morning when she took over the other’s post-- the last one Jocelyn would ever have to endure-- biting out a strained congratulations to the other through a clenched jaw. Spoiled, stupid, undeserving, bratty little--

Casey was just on the brink of a total temper tantrum when she paused, a sudden realization smacking her in the face. Wait. 

Where was the big red one?

She paused, glancing at her watch and back up at the apartment several times, straining to peer through the various windows. It was noon. Cassandra hadn't been doing this for that long, but when you sit and watch the same family for days and days on end, you pick up on their habits and routines pretty quickly. And every single day since she had started watching them, without fail, the biggest Hamato would emerge from his room, head to the kitchen, retrieve a protein shake from the fridge, and go up the stairs to the third floor. She couldn't see from the windows exactly where he was going, but it was like absolute clockwork. She suspected that he must have an alarm set with how consistent this was-- him fetching a drink and bringing it to, she could only assume, one of the other members of the household.

But it was twelve-oh-five. And there was no sign of him.

A sinking feeling thudded through her gut. Now that she was thinking about it, she hadn't seen any of them the entire watch. Not even once. The woman she had seen several times, working on her laptop in the living room and occasionally puttering around the apartment, but... No Hamatos.

None at all.

Spluttering a bit, Casey reeled, jumping up to her feet. They weren't here!? But she had watched the entire time! She hadn't taken her eyes off the building-- she had been so vigilant! Did they know the Foot was watching them!? Did they sneak out somehow--

She set her jaws, hackles rising as she reached yet another epiphany. A strangled shriek of frustration escaped her.

Jocelyn. 

Oh, she knew she wasn't taking this lookout thing seriously! Casey had wasted the past three hours of her life watching a building that didn't even have the targets in it--!!! Swearing loudly, she wrestled her phone from her bag, nearly dropping it in her haste. 

"Hello--? Sir Baron Draxum? This is the Hamato Lookout team reporting--"

Leo had asked Donnie what he was doing in a supply closet. Donnie had, in response, asked what Leo was doing on the roof, effectively eliminating any further questions, though April was certain that all three of her younger brothers would be answering to Raph later. But not right now. There were way bigger priorities right now. Luckily, the upside to attending an absolutely massive school in the middle of NYC was that there were a ton of kids, the building was huge, and it was actually quite easy to just walk off campus. Only three blocks away from their high school was a local skate park: a popular destination for the group, so much so that it sported multiple murals and tags from Mikey, and almost sure to be sparsely populated at this time of day. Meaning it was quiet enough for April to finally recount her recent conversation with Sunita, through excited, frenzied whispers, stumbling over her own words as she attempted to explain.

"So Sunita is a... slime monster?" Mikey questioned, tilting his head to the side slightly.

"Well-- kind of. She's a 'yokai,' I guess? But she has this magic thing called a Cloaking Brooch that lets her disguise herself as a human."

"Whoa!" Mikey gasped. "They have that?! So mystic people can just... look like humans?"

"Fascinating," Donnie remarked, tapping out a few notes on his phone. "Imagine how many citizens of New York could actually be yokai in disguise..."

"I wonder how many other kids at our school have secretly been, like, mystic creatures this whole time, and we don't even know it!" Mikey awed.

"Well, I guess cloaking-brooch-crystal-things are, like, really rare, or something? And, like, crazy valuable," April explained. "It's kind of hard to get a hold of them, Sunita said. I mean. She also said some yokai can just do it on their own without any crystal magic or whatever, but if you can't, then you need a crystal, and they're hard to get. Sunita said her’s is a family heirloom, but they've only got one, and she gets it right now so she can go to school."

"What, they don't have yokai schools in the Hidden City?" Raph questioned.

"Uh. Kinda," April said, leaning back against the skate ramp they were huddled behind. "I guess it's kind of... uh... a little chaotic over there. I mean. I dunno. I guess the police don't do a lot, and also the city is basically under the control of a super-powerful crime boss? And she basically runs everything. And also bloodsport is, like, super a thing that they just do, and that's fine, so like, there's not really a lot of 'law' or 'order' or whatever? So if you have a chance to send your kid to the surface instead, it's sorta a no-brainer."

"Okay, but, like, how is that that different from New York..."

"I'm serious, Leo!" April insisted. "And it's, like, super against the rules to tell anyone who's not in the know about the Hidden City or yokai or anything, so we can't tell anyone that Sunita told us or her whole family could be in danger! This is a take-it-to-your-grave kind of secret, okay!?"

"Okay, okay," Leo said, holding his hands up in surrender. "I get it. Seriously. No jokes or quips, even. It's a secret. We won't tell a soul, April. I promise."

April sighed in relief, tilting her head back slightly. She totally owed Sunita a pizza night or something after this... 

"Okay... so… that's where Dad is? How do you know?"

April took a long, deep breath. "Okay, so, you know how I said that there's a super powerful crime boss? And that bloodsport is a thing?"

Weirdly enough, the cool concrete floor below him felt really good on his back right now. But maybe that was just because he was sore. Or because he was exhausted. Probably both. And though his previous stint in the Battle Nexus involved him flip-flopping back and forth between Luxury Boxes and cell blocks, Yoshi had a sneaking suspicion that it would be in his best interest to get used to his current dungeon-esque accommodations, at least for the foreseeable future. He doubted he would be being invited to any red-carpet events or dinner parties by his employer any time soon. He wasn't sure if he was upset about this or not. He didn't think he had the energy to socialize, let alone with Big Mama or any of her various acquaintances or cohorts. 

But it was far too quiet down here, all by himself, with only the echoing rumbles and cries of the Battle Nexus in the distance for company. He relished what little time he had outside of the ring, certainly, but… Though his body was crying for it, he found it difficult to sleep. His mind was too often occupied, mostly with thoughts of his children. Wondering how they were doing. Wondering if they were still looking, or if the police had already closed the case and assumed him dead-- again. 

How long had it been now? It was somewhat difficult to keep track of the exact passage of time down here, and he had to think on it for a moment before he came to the conclusion.

Eleven days, he believed it had been. Eleven days since he had last seen his children. He sighed softly through his nose, allowing his eyes to slide shut, to give himself a break from staring at the stone ceiling and take some time examining the backs of his eyelids instead.

This was the longest he had ever been away from them in all their lives. 

"The next-door neighbor's daughter is very good friends with the boys, so you can call or text them if you have any questions and can't get in touch with me, but I will have my phone on me if anything happens..."

"Right--"

"Their child, April, comes over often, and they like to play in the basement with her. Just keep the door open so you can hear any screaming."

"Okay, got it--"

"And these are all the emergency numbers. This is their doctor, this is Donatello's counselor, this one is Mikey's… this is the school, this is the director's number, my agent, my lawyer, the hotel I will be staying at..."

"Right, I--"

"And this is their schedule. It is very important that you stick to it! Especially this week. Purple will get very upset if things change too much, so make sure they are able to get to all of their activities. Orange has ballet on Tuesdays and Thursdays and art classes on Mondays. He and the twins also have gymnastics on Fridays. They all do martial arts together during the weekends. Oh, and Red just started clarinet lessons, so make sure he is practicing!"

"Okay, I'll--"

"And do not let them convince you that they are allowed onto the roof! They are not! And do not let Donatello take the toaster into his room, under any circumstances! And--"

"Mr. Hamato!" 

Yoshi paused in his long-winded explanation, blinking widely at the flustered-looking babysitter, whose face was pink.

"Sorry! Sorry, I don't mean to, uh, interrupt, but..." She offered him a somewhat nervous smile. "I promise I've reviewed all the paperwork you sent. I've got their schedules saved, all the numbers are already in my phone, and I reached out to Adam to introduce myself and coordinate everything for the week already," she assured, referring to the young man Yoshi had hired years ago to help taxi his children about the city and get them to all their various after-school activities. Yoshi swore, every other month, one of them would try something new on a whim (usually a sport of some kind,) only to discover yet another innate aptitude and then beg to start taking classes. Adam was something of a cross between a chauffeur and a babysitter, helping to cart kids to and from various lessons and clubs when Yoshi couldn't do it himself. Yoshi would have happily hired him to babysit for the coming week, but unfortunately his college classes kept him too busy for such a commitment. Likewise, he would have liked to leave them in the O'Neil's care, but with both parents working full-time, they had concluded that the Hamato childrens’ demanding schedule would leave them a bit out of their depth. 

And so he had hired Emily.

It was not the first time he had hired Emily. Emily had babysat for him in the past whenever he needed someone to watch some or all of the boys. But never for more than a day. Never overnight. Certainly not for a full week.

"Right. Of course," Yoshi laughed nervously, pinching the bridge of his nose slightly. "My apologies. A week is just… a long time."

"I know. But we'll call every evening!"

"Yes, yes," he sighed a bit. "... Right. You are perfectly capable! I'm sure you will be fine!" He said, his voice a bit clipped. "And if you have any questions, you can call! I will have my cell phone on me!"

"Of course!" She assured with a gentle smile, beginning to gather up and organize all the various papers and forms Yoshi had provided her, making one last final review before he took his leave. Yoshi sighed deeply, glancing down at his watch. He could only afford to drag his feet for so much longer before he missed his flight. Emily politely kept herself busy and pretended not to notice him reorganizing his suitcase four different times before he finally zipped it up for good, leaving it by the front door.

"Boys!" He called. In a similar fashion to him pretending not to be stalling his inevitable exit, they pretended like they had not been hiding in just the next room, trying to eavesdrop on the two adults. They were all gathered up at his feet in a snap, with Mikey leading the charge and Donnie lagging behind, and Yoshi kneeled down to meet them.

"Alright, my sons. I will talk to you all on the phone later tonight. Be good for Emily while I am gone, understand? I have already told her she is allowed to sell you to the zoo if you are not good listeners, so best behavior!"

This got a giggle out of at least half of them, so he'd count that as a win. Mikey wrapped his arms around Yoshi's neck, tugging at him slightly and pulling himself up so he could climb on him, clinging to his neck. Yoshi thought to himself that he was starting to get too big to keep using him as a jungle gym, but… there was still time. He wasn’t too big yet. At least not today.

"Where are you going again, Daddy?"

"To California."

"How far away is that?"

"Hmmm," Yoshi pretended to think. "Well. It is farther than New Jersey. But it is closer than Japan." 

"Do we get to watch your new movie when you get home?" Leo demanded, leaning on his father's knee. "I wanna show everyone at school! Justin didn't believe me when I said you were gonna go make a movie!"

"It will take a little longer than that, Blue," he laughed. "But we can all watch together when they are finished making it. In the meantime, make them watch The Rabbit Bodyguard. I was very cool in that one." This new job wasn't actually a very large role-- there was no way he could film in only a week otherwise-- but he felt no need to explain that to Leonardo, who was absolutely beaming, giving a nod of affirmation.

"Are you sure it's gonna be a whole week?" Raph fret, his mouth curved into a frown.

"Yes, Red, I am sure. But you boys will be so busy with Emily you will not even notice I'm gone!"

"Yeah we will," Raph muttered, crossing his arms. 

"Oh, but you boys have so many activities!" He declared dramatically, before leaning into Raph, almost conspiring, to stage-whisper to him. "I did not want to say it in front of Emily, but I think she may need your help, Raphael. She is not used to how busy you boys all are. Or dealing with your little akuma-chan brothers! You may have to help make sure everything goes smoothly while I am gone."

"Hey!" Leo protested.

Raphael glanced over at Emily from across the living room, where she was still organizing papers in the kitchen, before turning back to Yoshi and giving a firm nod. Mission accepted. Phew. Yoshi knew he would be far less anxious over the coming week if he was instead focused on time management and keeping his brothers in line. 

"Why can't we come with you?" Leo questioned, sulking slightly. "I wanna go to Hollywood!"

"Akuma-chan children are not allowed in the state of California. It is against federal law," he replied easily.

"That's not true!" Leo protested.

"It is. Only the best-behaved children are allowed to go to California. You have to submit an application. With referrals from teachers and babysitters saying you should get to go in," he explained confidently. "Perhaps if you boys are very good, then we can take a trip there someday..."

"And see Hollywood?"

"Yes, and see Hollywood."

"And sea lions?!" Mikey squealed. 

"Yes, sea lions as well."

"Okay!" The two agreed, and Yoshi smiled a tiny bit to himself. They were getting older now, and he doubted that Leo actually believed the story he was weaving, though Mikey might. But Yoshi would be hard-pressed to find any joke, game, or bit that Leo wasn't willing to play along with.

He gave Raph a tight hug, assuring his oldest that he trusted him to keep an eye on the family in his absence, that Emily would take good care of them, and that he would be home soon. He scooped up Leo next, agreeing to all his demands for souvenirs, and promising that he would, in fact, call every day. He squeezed Mikey close, and confirmed that yes, Emily did know how to make all the foods they liked, and she would play with them and give hugs, and that Daddy would come back home as soon as he could, for sure, he promised. 

 Donatello was last, still lingering to the side even after his brothers had all turned their attention to Emily instead, staring down at his feet.

"Purple," Yoshi bade softly. Donnie grunted in response.

"I will be coming back home on the 11th. My flight is at 4:15 PM in California time. It's flight 983. And today's flight is 212. You and your brothers can track it on the computer if you want." 

Donnie nodded a tiny bit, not yet looking up.

"I will call you all every night at bedtime. And you can always ask Emily to call me if you need me. Even if I don't pick up right away, I will call you back." 

Donnie hummed quietly, shuffling his feet.

"And Emily is going to take very good care of you boys. You like Emily, don’t you? She has watched you before. And I know you like it when she performs the musical parts of movies with you. And she lets you ask her questions about her architecture degree. And she knows how to do you boys' hair better than I do," he smiled softly. "So you will even get to have special things this week."

Donnie wrinkled up his nose, swaying back and forth for a bit before he finally signed.

'Stay.'

Yoshi sighed.

"I can't stay, Donnie. I have to go to work. Just like April’s parents have to go to work. But I will come back. I promise. It will only be a week, and then I will be back, okay?" He hummed softly, leaning in close. "But I know you will be okay while I'm gone. You and your brothers are going to take care of each other. And April and her parents will help take care of you, too. You will still see her all this week and get to play with her. And you will still get to go to school, and to see Mossy, and to go to robotics club and gymnastics and all the other things you like. Even if I'm not here, you and your brothers will be okay. I am sure of it."

Donnie sniffled a bit, screwing up his face for a moment before he finally moved, all but bodily walking into his father, burying his face against his chest and curling up against him. Yoshi wrapped his arms around him tight, giving him a squeeze.

"Promise you'll come back?" He whispered.

"Of course I will," Yoshi whispered in reply. "I promise I will come back."

"I never get to use my algorithms..." Donnie sighed very softly, looking longingly at the spreadsheet on his phone as they trudged through the alleys of the city. And after Mikey had gotten all this data for him, too...

"Donnie. This is a good thing," Leo said, raising a brow and giving his brother a look. "Finding Dad was our goal, remember?"

"Yeah. I know," Donnie sighed, slumping a tiny bit. "But must science always be on the backburner?!"

"Aw, cheer up, Dee!" Mikey chirped, nudging his brother gently with an elbow as he trotted along. "I'm sure you can come up with some sort of mystic-scanning machine to put in your goggles or whatever after we get Dad back!"

"Yes, yes, I will add it to my itinerary," he sighed, rolling his shoulders slightly as they marched. "How much farther do we have to go to find this hidden doorway anyway, April? I thought you said it was close."

"Chill. We're almost there. Uh. I think," April said.

"You think?"

“Look, I've never located a secret mystic doorway before, okay?" She huffed, scowling at her younger brother. "Sunita’s directions were clear in theory, but in practice, it's a little more complicated! If you wanna take a turn leading, then be my guest...!"

"Don't worry! I'm sure we'll find it!" Mikey encouraged, bounding over to match April's pace and fall into stride next to her, a bright grin lighting up his face. He had practically been bouncing around like a kangaroo ever since they left the skatepark, overflowing with hopeful excitement. "There's no way anything can stop us now when we're this close to getting Pops back!"

"Right... and what's our plan again, when we do find this supposed secret doorway?" Donnie questioned, arching a brow.

"Ninja in, kick some yokai butt, rescue Dad, and ninja out," Leo supplied with a shrug. "Simple!"

"Exactly!" Raph agreed. "We know where Dad is-- so we go get him! He needs us! You guys just be careful and let Raph do all the smashing, and we'll be fine."

"Right..." Donnie mumbled, rolling his eyes a bit. Note to self: do not join any action squads with his brothers in the future. Risk of serious injury or untimely death: high. “In any case, we should still, at the very least, come up with some contingencies should we get separated or anything else go awry. We’re heading into unknown and supposedly magical territory, most likely populated with a bunch of yokai creatures, apparently half of which are criminals, so who knows what we may run into. So it may be wise to all be in agreement as to what we’re doing should anything happen--”

“That would be wise,” agreed a voice from behind the group-- far too deep and foreign to be any of his siblings. Donnie froze, a chill latching onto his spine, and he felt his family do the same before collectively turning to face the stranger.

“I knew you would have to come out of that apartment eventually,” the yokai observed, tilting their chin to look down at them through the glassy screen of their horned helmet-- eyes slitted, mouth fanged, their hair long and magenta, tall and familiar and terrifying. Donnie tensed.

“I’ve been hoping to get a chance to speak with you four.”

Chapter Text

The group’s shocked silence lasted for two, maybe three seconds before it quickly morphed into chaos.

“That’s him! That’s the goat!” Mikey shrieked, pointing wildly. “That’s the goat who has Dad!”

“Leo! Call 911!” Raph commanded. Leo scoffed loudly.

“No way! I wanna kick this guy’s ass. Make Donnie do it.”

“What?! No fair! I’ve called 911 the last six times! It’s someone else’s turn!”

“You have not! I called 911 last time!” April protested.

“That one doesn’t count!”

“Well someone’s gotta--”

“Enough!” Goatman snarled, absolutely bristling, waving his arm sharply. The air around them suddenly felt colder and stiller, and Leo shuddered, gritting his teeth as his posture stiffened. “I am not here to listen to your silly arguments. I am here to bring you home, so you can finally fulfill your purpose.”

Leo gave a short snort of laughter. “Hm, yeah, tempting, but our Daddy actually taught us not to go with creepy sheep strangers, even if they offer us free candy, soooo…”

“What?! Candy? No! I’m talking about your purpose! The reason you were created-- to eliminate the human threat! Come with me, and I can unlock your full potential!”

“How many divine purposes have we got again? ‘Cause I’m starting to lose track,” Mikey complained. Leo rolled his eyes.

“Eliminate the human threat? Yeah, uh, maybe you haven't been paying attention, but in case you haven’t noticed, we’re literally humans.”

The yokai paused for a moment. His face twisted, and he hunched his shoulders back before he gave a forced laugh. “Humans?” He echoed. “Humans?! Surely you aren’t fooled by those silly trinkets! You can’t possibly, actually believe…”

“Oh my god. This guy is, like, for real crazy,” April observed, raising her brows.

“No, you are fools!” He hissed in return. “Humans?! These ridiculous forms are completely fabricated! These are not your true selves! You are experiments! You are soldiers! You’re mutated turtles-- my greatest creations! The creations of Baron Draxum!”

“Baron Draxum? Okay, well, we’ll deal with him when he gets here… Oh… Oh-ho-ho wait! You’re doing that, like, sinister talking-about-yourself-in-third person thing, aren’t you! Oh my god, that’s rich!” Leo snorted.

“Hey! Only Raph can use the third-person!”

“I’m sorry, did he say turtles?” Mikey questioned.

“Oh my fucking god…” Leo laughed, clutching his stomach. “Turtles? I’m sorry, we’re mutant turtles?”

“This guy can’t be serious,” Raph muttered.

“Uh, yeah, I’m pretty sure we would have noticed by now if we were reptiles,” Donnie scoffed, one hand on his hip. “Let alone subjects of some kind of biochemical experiments. Which I am intimately familiar with, by the way. Do you have any idea how many community gardens I’ve been banned from?”

“This can’t…” The yokai shook his head, a hand on his brow. “How could you be tricked by such simple magick? I will show you if I have to.” 

“Oh, I’d love to see that,” Donnie muttered.

“Come with me--”

“You are out of your damn mind if you think we’re goin’ anywhere with you!” Raph cut in.

“Maybe if you prove that turtle hypothesis thing you have going on, we can discuss it from there,” Donnie laughed, one brow quirked, sounding caught somewhere between exasperated and amused. Honestly, this whole thing was a little bit fucking hilarious. It was also fucking horrible and scary because their dad was missing and a magic criminal had them cornered in an alley, but like. Seriously. Mutant turtles? You can’t make this stuff up, dude.

Draxum sighed very deeply, scowling at their group.

“Very well,” he said, and he snapped his fingers.

Things became unfunny very, very quickly. 

If the air had become cold earlier, now it became startlingly hot, just for a moment, the alley rising up at least five degrees, and Leo heard this choked, startled gasp that he immediately recognized as his twin. At the same time, a blinding, almost familiar flash of white light overtook the alley, and Leo hissed, flinching away. 

When he looked back, he was horrified to find that where Donnie had been standing just a moment ago there was instead some sort of green, scaled creature, their eyes slitted and their skin leathery and bumped, and he thought, what the hell happened to my brother? And after a moment of silence, all of them staring in dazed shock, the reptile flailed, floundered, held its own hands up to its face as if to examine them, and promptly began screaming. 

And Leo recognized his own brother's screams, so instead he was thinking: what the hell happened to my brother?!

“What did you do?!” Leo shrieked. Behind him, Mikey screamed, too, and he could hear April spluttering out an impressive string of curse words. He just barely resisted the urge to race over to Donnie’s side, to check if he was okay, (he’s not okay, he knows he’s not okay,) to try to help him, to fix it, because he couldn’t just turn his back on the enemy in front of them-- couldn’t ignore the very obvious threat.

“I simply removed the cloaking enchantment as he requested,” Draxum responded calmly. He even looked amused, almost, the very corners of his lips turning up.

“You what!? What the hell are you-- fix it!!! Turn him back!!!” Leo demanded, his voice rising with the very edges of panic, his pulse climbing ever-steadily higher the longer he listened to his siblings scream.

The other sighed deeply, tilting their head to the side. “Do you still not understand? Fine, then. I’ll show you as well.” 

Snap.

Leo wouldn’t describe the experience as painful, but it really wasn’t pleasant, either. He swore he could feel his skin being stripped away and reforming; it was like his skeleton itself was being rearranged, his entire body becoming fluid for just a split second before solidifying again in new places, new patterns, new spaces. An unfamiliar weight pulled at his shoulders, forcing his spine to bend, and his hands and feet fell in a way that now felt unnatural to him. His skin seemed to lay over his muscles differently now.

He was vaguely aware of Mikey screaming somewhere behind him a second time, echoing Donatello’s continued wails. 

“Guys?” April bit out, her voice high and frightened.

What the hell happened to him?

“What-- what did you do?” Leo repeated himself, his eyes wide, straining, because his vision was ever-so-slightly different than it had been a few seconds ago and he didn’t know how to adjust. He swore to god he was frozen in place. He wasn’t sure when he had ended up on his knees, but he was shaking so hard, he supposed he wasn’t surprised.

What the fuck happened to his body?

“Now are you convinced?” The yokai pressed. “Now, we will be going to my lab whether you want to or not. We can either do this the easy way or the hard way. I would highly recommend the easy way,” he hummed, giving a sharp sweep of his arms. Wind tugged at his back and Leo had just barely the presence of mind to glance behind him, his eyes widening in horror to see this huge expanse of black opening up behind him. 

Mikey-- (Mikey? They were small, they were wearing Mikey’s clothes, it must be Mikey--) yelped loudly, the inky cloud yanking him from his feet. April jumped, attempting to grab her baby brother, though she only succeeded in falling into him-- both of them swallowed up into the portal. Raph gave a strangled howl of protest, diving right after them, and Donnie was sucked up as well, disappearing from Leo’s sight. His heart thudded wildly in his ears. He could feel the magick yanking at him, trying to pull him in as well. 

But Leo had always been the fastest. 

Every shred of him was screaming to follow, to chase after his family, to go with his sister and brothers, but he tensed his muscles, his stance widening and holding firm as he set his sights back on the yokai towering before him. A tiny voice in his head whispered in his ears that following wouldn’t help--

No, he had to move forward. This guy was the one hurting them.

Get him.

Leo wasn’t sure if he had leapt forward or if he simply was there. Everything was moving too quickly for even him to follow, the blinding white of panic and rage eating hungrily at the edges of his vision, threatening to overtake him. Either way, he lunged, a cry of protective fury wringing itself from his chest.

"Stay away from my brothers," he snarled, his own throat staggering painfully with the force with which he screamed out his warning, his hands flying forward to grab the yokai by his throat, slamming into him at full speed. He felt the alien velvet fuzz of Draxum’s skin beneath the tear of his fingernails (claws) even as the pair of them were flung from their feet. Gravity was stolen from them both, the portal behind them reaching out to consume them. 

Everything went black. For just a second, tumbling through nothingness, floating through the sizzling rush of magick itself, Leo couldn’t see anything. He couldn’t hear anything, all he could feel was the body of the yokai against him, struggling against his grip, attempting to throw him away. 

And then this bright, searing lavender light came singing through the world. It didn’t reflect or bounce; nothing was lit up by it. Leo still could not see himself, could not even find the outline of his own hands or fingers. But this brilliant, complex pattern of the palest, gentlest pastel purple lit up bright before him, swirling and twisting in foreign shapes, and Leo just barely recognized that the ribbon of runes they formed echoed the shape of the yokai he had just grabbed.

The body he was clinging to went limp.

The next second, the wind was knocked out of him as they made impact with stone, light coming streaming back into his universe. Leo found himself landing in a heap in their new location, the portal disappearing behind them. Oddly, however, the crash landing didn’t hurt near as much as he would have expected it to.

“Leo!” He heard Raph cry. Leo groaned, still dazed, looking around blearily. Where the hell were they? He glanced over at the yokai who he had yanked through the portal with them, only to find them in an awkward slump just a few paces away, completely limp and seemingly unconscious. 

“Are you okay? What happened?” Raph demanded, moving quickly to his side. Mikey was already all bundled up in his arms, shaking like a leaf and absolutely clinging to him for dear life like he was going to fall apart if he let go. And Leo couldn’t even blame him if he did. Mikey had always been the smallest of them, and Raph always the biggest, but Leo thought dimly that the size difference between them now was fucking bananas.

Jesus christ. Raph was fucking huge. And… spiky. Was he a goddamn dinosaur? What the fuck.

“I-- yeah-- I-- I think the goatman got knocked out--” He stammered, still reeling slightly, trying to collect himself, to gather himself, adrenaline still rushing through his veins like it was a racetrack. 

Somewhere in the background, Donnie fucking screamed, and Leo immediately forgot about everything else, his head whipping around. 

“Donnie!” He cried, on his feet in a second, rushing over to his brother’s side. He had no idea where they were, not having yet taken stock of the location. He was only dimly aware that they were someplace cold and dark, with stone and concrete above, below, and around them. Donnie had pressed himself up against one of the walls, his entire body rigid and his head bent forward, his arms fluttering wildly beside his head in such a way that Leo recognized he was fighting not to hit himself. Good job, Dee. The screaming continued, but every wail that wrenched its way out of Donnie’s mouth was short and grinding, repeating itself over and over like an alarm. It was fucking terrifying. Not for him, but for Donnie, because he could tell that they were completely, totally not in control. Just panicking.

“Hey. Hey, hey, it’s okay, I’m right here, Don. It’s alright. It’s okay, you’re safe, I’m right here, hermano,” he tried to soothe, forcing his voice down, calm, steady. He knew better than to touch Donnie, but he would reach over just long enough to tap a button on the side of his headphones that he knew would flip the device into white noise mode. Donnie jerked slightly in response, and the screaming stopped, at least, but he didn’t relax. His arms still fluttered and flapped anxiously, and he shifted just enough to begin rocking back and forth, clenching his jaw and grinding his teeth so hard that Leo was afraid he was going to hurt himself. His chest absolutely shook with the panicked, shuddering breaths he was taking, hyperventilating so hard that his entire body trembled in response. His face was wet.

“Come on, Donnie, it’s alright. It’s okay. We’re safe, Mikey and Raph and April are safe, we’re gonna be okay, but you’ve gotta breathe, dude. Can you try it with me? Like this? We’ve gotta calm down a little bit--” Leo pressed on because this was not his first rodeo. He wasn’t quite as adept at handling these things as their dad was, and at this point, Donnie was pretty good at avoiding meltdowns and panic attacks, armed with tools and tricks and years of therapy, but sometimes they were unavoidable and Leo had always known how to calm them down, always been able to step up and help, the same way Donnie could for him--

But Donnie wasn’t calming down. Donnie wouldn’t even look up at him. Rather, Donnie scrunched up harder, curled his lips, and fucking hissed at him.

And, okay, look, it wasn’t the first time Donnie had hissed at him. Donnie used to love to hiss at people when they were little kids, though nowadays he was more likely to express annoyance with declarations such as “groan” or “scoff” or “eyeroll.” But he didn’t hiss like this.

He sounded fucking feral. Even more than that, he sounded fucking terrified. He looked like a goddamn cornered animal, his eyes blown out and huge, the scaly skin that now made up his form stretched tight over shivering muscles and his lips drawn back over sharp, pointed teeth. And Leo looked down at his own clawed, three-fingered hand and came to a horrible realization.

He couldn’t help because Donnie couldn’t recognize him. They were panicking because they were in this crazy, fucked up body that wasn’t theirs, and Leo was in a fucked up body that wasn’t his, and looking at him was just a reminder of everything wrong. He was just scaring them more. His being here was just making things worse, and Leo’s throat tied itself in a knot, swelling up as the backs of his eyes pinched with the thought.

“April,” he called, his voice cracking slightly as he desperately turned to look for his sister. She wasn’t far off, watching from a short distance with obvious worry, and she blinked in surprise at the sound of her name.

“Help me.”

If Leo was being completely honest, he hadn’t even realized that Donnie wasn’t still nearby. The two of them typically stuck together like glue whenever they were at school. Leo would usually lead the way, and Donnie would trail after, with Leo doing most of the talking and socializing for both of them. And once Donnie got sick of whatever they were doing, he would simply drag Leo off to sit and read or work on some project or puzzle for a while, and Leo would oblige and keep him company. Donnie was always close by, and Leo wasn’t even aware that this wasn’t currently the case, too absorbed in his latest arts and crafts project, until he heard a telltale, high-pitched whine from across the room.

He was on his feet in seconds, abandoning the activity and his classmates to scuttle off in search of his twin brother. Luckily, he wasn’t too hard to find. Both because he was pretty loud, and also because their substitute teacher was crouched down next to him. She was nice enough, Leo thought, but not quite as cool as Miss Mitchelle was, and he wasn’t sure if Donnie liked her at all. It definitely didn’t seem like he liked her too much right now with how he was all balled up, and Leo wasted no time at all in planting himself physically between the two.

Donnie immediately gravitated towards his brother and Leo moved a bit closer in turn, giving Miss Substitute (he didn’t remember her name,) a very displeased look.

“He doesn’t like whatever you’re doing,” he declared firmly.

Miss Substitute’s expression twitched and faltered for a moment before it settled back into something patient and pleasant, though Leo still didn’t quite trust it. “Leo,” she said, “I was just trying to talk with your brother--”

“I can talk to him,” Leo assured immediately, not bothering to listen to the remainder of her sentence because he couldn’t imagine it would be all that important or interesting. He turned to face Donnie instead. “It’s okay. I can always understand him, ‘cause we have a secret twin language. We made it up. Only we can speak it,” he declared proudly, crouching down to lean in towards his brother, his arms wrapped around his knees.

Donnie was still whining a bit, curled up into a ball and shoved halfway inside of a cubby, his arms crossed protectively over his head as he rocked. And yeah, he was obviously upset, though Leo wasn’t completely sure why yet. As such, he got to work, conversing with his twin in the previously mentioned secret twin language.

… And.

Okay.

So.

They didn’t actually have a secret twin language.

But it was close enough! It wasn’t a language, per se, ‘cause it didn’t have words, just noises and chirps and trills and squeaks and babbles. But he still always got the gist of what Donnie was saying, and Donnie would get the gist of what he was saying, too, so it worked. Sooner or later, he could pretty much always get an understanding of what Donnie was meaning based on the inflection or tone of his noises, as well as calm the other down enough so that Leo could coax a couple of signs out of him, so Leo figured it was close enough to language.

Plus, the ‘language’ itself always seemed to kind of settle Donnie down when he was upset like this. Once Leo started humming and squeaking at him, Donnie gradually started to answer with his own chirps and clicks, and, little by little, Leo watched their twin’s body untense and unwind. Leo grinned, moving to sit properly by him, and Donnie moved closer, edging just a bit out of his hiding spot so he could shove himself up against Leo’s side instead, resting his head against his shoulder and settling in there, an indignant scowl still on his face.

Leo grinned, puffing out his chest a bit as he shot Miss Substitute a look. See? He told her so. He and Donnie always understood each other, no matter what, and he could always fix it when Donnie wasn’t feeling good! He was basically the best brother in the entire world. Confident that he understood the problem, he turned back to face Miss Substitute.

“He said you’re not doing the schedule right, and we’re supposed to do math right now,” he announced, crossing his arms over his chest. And he hadn’t even noticed, but Donnie was right, they did usually do math lessons during this part of the day-- not arts and crafts. “And also, he doesn’t like the paper fish we’re doing ‘cause the glue feels bad. So we gotta find something else to do,” he insisted. “‘Cause otherwise Donnie and I aren’t playing.”

Donnie nodded a tiny bit from behind him, and Leo beamed with pride. Understanding Donnie and calming him down wasn’t even that hard. He didn’t get why adults besides Dad had such a hard time with it sometimes. You really just had to listen to him. 

It took a while for April to calm Donnie back down, (or at least get him as calm as they possibly could be in such circumstances,) but she managed after a bit, his panicked breaths eventually dying down into something a bit more even and steady. Thank god. Mikey thought dimly to himself that he had never seen Donnie freak out so bad, but... he supposed he couldn't really blame him. 

He frowned a bit, looking down at his own, unfamiliar hands, and he curled up a bit more, his tail tucking in (oh my god, he had a tail,) as he clung to Raph's plastron (oh my god, Raph had a plastron.) And though it still held comfort, the fold of his biggest brother's arms, bundled up close and held there, this place that he had known his whole life... it suddenly felt foreign, too. Everything was hard and jagged and cold. And even worse-- it was unfamiliar. 

He kept staring at his own hands because he couldn't stop himself, and it made his stomach wobble. He wondered bleakly what his own face looked like because he had no idea. He wouldn't even recognize himself in the mirror. 

 Now that Donnie had finally settled a bit, though he was still curled up and pressed just against April's side, just barely not touching but still squeezed up small against her, Leo finally got up to his feet-- only to immediately lose his balance, falling over onto his back with a loud clunk.

"Leo!" Raph's eyes widened, his muscles immediately bunching up, ready to jump up and go grab his brother. Mikey could tell that he was just barely resisting the urge to scoop up all three of them and bundle them up in his arms and just hang onto them for a while. He had been sitting here long enough for Mikey to notice how fast his heart was beating. Mikey’s was keeping pace. Leo kind of flailed for a second before he managed to redirect the momentum to roll over onto his side, getting himself back onto his hands and knees. A wry, strangled laugh forced its way out of him.

"Alright. Well. Pro tip: center of gravity is weird now," he remarked dryly, his voice strained. "But the good news is falling doesn't even hurt anymore! So that’s great!"

It didn't get a laugh out of anyone. After a moment of hesitation, Mikey slowly wriggled his way from Raph's grip, making his way over to Leo's side. He didn't dare try to walk after watching Leo's attempt, noting that it seemed to be more difficult now without the rush of adrenaline to aid them, so he instead stayed in a crouch, sort of half-hopping-half-crawling over. Raph followed shortly after in a similar manner.

"Can I see?" He questioned softly, and when Leo didn't deny him, he leaned over slightly, moving his hoodie (which was now a very awkward fit,) out of the way enough so that he could examine the edges of his brother's new shell.

(Oh my god. His brother's shell. What kind of a sentence was that? What kind of weird, fucked up make-believe world were they suddenly in? Leo was his brother. He didn't have a shell. He had cool brown skin. He had bouncy blonde curls that Mikey had helped him bleach and dye a red streak in. He had vitiligo 'stripes' over his eyes. He had a bad habit of cycling through boyfriends and insomnia and a shockingly large vocabulary... but he didn't have a shell. He didn't have scales or stripes or claws or a tail.)

He looked anyway, running the tips of his fingers over the top of it, following the curve. He couldn't quite tell if he was feeling the texture of the shell, or just the texture of his own fingers, which were different than they had been; covered in scales, the skin thicker and rougher than it had been before. Bending his joints felt odd, and he couldn't help himself from doing it over and over, as if that might help him get used to it faster. 

 Every part of his brother’s shell was this cool, ocean blue, just edging on teal in some places, and Mikey thought to himself that, in the very least, it matched his life color perfectly. 

He swallowed hard and resisted the tears that were building up in his eyes. He didn’t want to cry right now. He didn’t even know what he was crying about. Because he was scared? Because he was overwhelmed? He wasn’t very good at not crying, but he forced it down, his hands trembling a bit with the effort of it.

 "Does it look the same as mine?" He heard himself asking, his eyes flickering over to meet Leo's (which were now not something he recognized, looking more animal than person, though they still retained the same, familiar almond shape. The color, however, he realized, was slightly different. Leo's eyes were brown. All of their eyes were brown, so dark that they were almost black, but now, instead, Leo's eyes were mismatched; one of them dark blue, like water in a cove, like the sea at night, and the other dark red, like ink with blood, like black cherries.) 

"I dunno," Leo laughed, though his voice was still shaking. "I don't know what mine looks like."

"They're... kinda the same…" Raph observed from nearby, leaning over slightly to examine them both. His voice sounded kind of hollow, like he wasn’t really there. Sort of far-off. "I mean. The parts I can see. Mikey, yours is more... orangey. And bumpier," he said. "And yours is spotty. Leo's is kinda... stripey." 

"Yours is huge," Leo observed with a chuckle, glancing over at their biggest brother, who was always the tallest and largest by a wide margin, but now absolutely dwarfed the rest of them. "And... spiky. You're all spiky. And… and fucking huge, dude. You look like you have fucking paws. And your mouth is all..." He laughed again, scrubbing anxiously at his face with his hands. "You look like a fucking snapping turtle."

Mikey paused a bit at that, glancing over at the other.

Donnie must have said or signed something that the rest of them didn’t catch, because April spoke up next, clearly addressing him. "Uhm, no, yours is... uh. It's kind of flat? And..." There was a pause. "Oh, oh my god, it's, like, squishy!" She squealed, everyone else in the room jumping in response, before she tamped down the noise, biting her lip and getting a handle on her reaction. "Sorry! Sorry, I just. I just wasn't expecting that texture, that's all! It doesn't... feel like what I thought a shell would feel like, I guess."

"Are we different kinds of... turtles?" Mikey questioned, tilting his head to the side. He wanted to laugh at himself when he said turtles. I mean, seriously, turtles? Of all the creatures in the world, turtles? Why were they turtles?

"I guess we must be," Leo sighed, resting his chin on his knee. "We obviously look different." 

Mikey frowned, and he thought that his lips might be trembling if he had proper lips anymore, but he wasn't sure if he did or if they could tremble or what that would feel like if they did. Okay, fine. Now there were a few tears. 

"Does that mean we're not brothers?" 

A beat of silence followed.

"We're not," Donnie said, and quite frankly, Mikey was surprised to hear him speaking. Small miracles? Kinda…?

"Yeah, we are. Don't be crazy," Raph immediately refuted, his brows (er... brows? Place where brows once were?) furrowing together, and Mikey was desperately relieved to see that the space in between still wrinkled into a crease the same way they always did. "Of course we're brothers."

"Evidently, we're not even the same species," Donnie hissed out bitterly, drawing himself up even closer, even smaller, into a little ball. "It's literally impossible."

"Come on, Dee--"

"We're not even human!" Donnie snapped, hunching up his shoulders. "We're not even people!"

"Hey, look, come on you guys," April tried to soothe, holding up her hands as if to calm the group. "It doesn't matter if you're turtles! It doesn't matter to me. I love you guys no matter what--"

"Oh, wow, what a comfort!" Donnie scoffed, and April bristled.

"Okay, look, I am trying to be helpful! I know that this fucking sucks but you do not need to take out your nasty attitude on me!"

Leo suddenly laughed-- loudly, painfully-- tilting his head back and letting his shoulders slump so he could stare up at the ceiling. "Oh my god. Jesus christ. We're not people," he bit out in between his barely restrained hysterics, squeezing his eyes shut. "We're freaks, dude!"

"Leo, c'mon." 

"We're not even people!!!" He repeated. "Fuck. We never even had a chance, and we didn't even know it!... Oh my god, we’re such morons!!! Hahaha-- welp! This is it! Pack it in, boys, it’s all over!"

"Leo, chill. What are you even talkin’ about?"

"Did you know I was gonna go on T?" He questioned, turning around sharply, suddenly, to face Raph. "Me and Dad were talking about it. For, like, a while now. And I was gonna start T, finally. Do you know how much I wanted to do that? Do you know how long I've been waiting to get to do that?"

Raph frowned. "Leo... This doesn't mean--"

"How the fuck is that going to work now!?" He interrupted. "How is anything gonna work now? We're fucking! REPTILES! Raph!!!"

"I KNOW THAT!" Now Raph was yelling, too, and Mikey flinched a bit, hiccuping softly as he drew himself down, retreating slightly, halfway into his shell (oh my god, he can do that now?) "You think you're the only one who was lookin' forward to stuff? I was-" He cut himself off, breathing in deep and then letting it out slow, his jaw tensed.

"Look. I know this... sucks. But it's not gonna help to just throw in the towel right now and mourn shit that we don't even know is gone yet, alright? We'll... figure it out," he said. "We don’t even know what’s goin’ on, so let’s just… let's just try to figure it out first. Okay?" 

Leo frowned. He looked down and to the side, tightening his hands into fists, but he didn't have any rebuttal. After a moment, he took a deep breath, pulling himself up to his feet for a second time. He tottered for a moment, his arms windmilling until he found his balance and this time he stayed on his feet. He looked around the room for a moment before his eyes fell on the limp form of Baron Draxum, still crumpled in a heap some odd paces away.

"What do we do with that guy?"

All of their eyes snapped over, as though they had all just remembered that he was there in the first place.

"Did you knock him out, dude?!" Raph questioned, his eyes widening slightly. 

"No! I mean. I don't think so. Not exactly," Leo said. "It's, like-- he grabbed me and some sort of mystic-magic-whatever thing happened. He lit up with a bunch of symbols and he just... went down. I dunno what happened." 

"Well," Raph said, sighing deeply before he pulled himself to his feet as well, doing a similar rock and wobble to Leo before he figured out the new balance he had to strike, correcting his own footing. His long tail swung back and forth behind him, assumedly on instinct, to help. "We dunno how long he's gonna stay down, so we oughta find a way out of here and put some distance between us and him ASAP. We already know where Dad is, anyway."

"Maybe we can figure out where we are," Donnie mumbled bleakly, pulling himself to his feet as well. He seemed to struggle much less than his brothers did, and Mikey noted that his back rounded less than theirs. April got up as well, sticking close to his side, but perhaps hovering a bit less now. 

Mikey watched as his family rose up, one by one, finding their feet again. And something in his chest unwound and loosened again. A breath he hadn't realized he had been holding came tumbling out of him.

He didn't know his own face anymore. And he didn't recognize his brothers when he looked at them.

But they were still them. Already, Mikey was completely sure of it. And the change, while still terrifying, felt just a tiny bit less devastating. 

He hadn’t lost them yet.

Bracing himself for the coming challenge, he rose up to his feet as well. The unfamiliar weight on his back was more than he had expected and attempted to drag him down, and he stumbled slightly, nearly toppling over onto his back the same way Leo had the first time-- but Raph grabbed his wrist before he could, pulling him forward and correcting him, and Mikey was relieved to find his center of gravity once more. Usually, he would complain about his big brother stepping in, preferring to do things on his own rather than being 'babied' by his older family members, but...

 Right now, it was actually okay. 

"Okay. Let's do this." 

(They took about three steps before Raph yelped and tripped over his own tail.)

Though they had tied up the so-called "Baron Draxum" with whatever rope and other scrap they could find in this place, (the longer they were here, the more Donnie began to suspect it was a lab of some kind,) none of them were very confident that it would be able to hold him for very long, if at all, and so they all got to work trying to figure out an exit. But to call this place 'maze-like' was a bit of an understatement.

"This is the worst landmark ever," April hissed in frustration as they turned a corner, only to once again be met with a hog-tied yokai, face-down on the concrete. "We keep going in circles!"

"Okay, look," Donnie sighed. "I know we don't want to linger here any more than we have to, but let's look around a bit and see if there's anything useful lying around to get us out of here. Clearly just walking out isn't getting us anywhere." 

There was a chorus of grunts and mumbles of agreement from the rest of his family, and the group slowly fanned out, beginning their search. It was dark here, wherever they were. The ground beneath his feet was cold, with him and his brothers having already ditched and stowed their sneakers and boots after realizing how awkward and painful it was to walk in them with their new wide, two-toed feet. 

The space was wide and almost circular, with various tunnels branching off at different levels, all leading away to who-knew-where. Several desks and tables were scattered about the space, each surface covered in everything from charts to pipettes to oddly-shaped jars filled with oddly-colored substances. Donnie just barely resisted the urge to sit down and start working, or to begin snatching and pocketing things as he found them. Instead, he took a liberal amount of photographs of everything they found on his phone.

 His impulse control could only get him so far, however, and his eyes narrowed as they fell across a small, purpley-pink gem that lay on the desk, suspended within a small glass case. This certainly looked interesting... Geology wasn't really a passion of his, but something about this just seemed... intriguing. He couldn't quite place it...

 Surely no one would miss this, right? It was small! It would be silly not to take it, quite frankly, and he slipped it into his pocket as quietly as he could when he was sure no one else was looking. 

Now, if only he could find some blueprints of the tunnels... But that would be too easy, wouldn't it?

"So," Mikey said after a minute or so of them searching, and Donnie sighed internally. Of course, they couldn't expect him to stay quiet for that long. "If Raph is a snapping turtle, and me and Leo are turtle-turtles, then what kind of a turtle is Donnie?"

Donnie rolled his eyes, scowling. "Okay, well, first of all, do we really have to discuss this?" He hissed, immediately bristling. "I’d highly prefer we not address the proverbial elephant in the room, thank you! Second of all, 'turtle-turtle' is not a species."

"Yeah, but, like, we have turtle shells!" Mikey explained. "But April said yours is squishy. So what does that make you?"

Donnie sighed deeply. Talking about this made his skin itch.

"A softshell turtle, I suppose."

"A softshell?" Leo questioned, raising a brow. "That's a thing?"

"Yes."

"How do you know that off the top of your head?" Raph questioned.

"Some of us actually paid attention during biology classes," he responded dryly. And having a near-photographic memory did, admittedly, help as well…

"Whoa!" Mikey absolutely beamed. "That's so cool! Now we just gotta figure out what kind of turtles me and Leo are!"

"Well, I'd look it up if we had any service. And also if it was even close to being an appropriate time for us to waste our efforts on something like that," Donnie said with a roll of his eyes. He knew that Mikey was just distracting himself, finding a silver lining so he didn’t break down, but Donnie didn’t want to think about it, didn’t want to think about how much of their entire lives was completely fabricated, about how--

He snorted, suddenly doubling over with laughter.

"What?" April questioned, raising a brow.

"I just-- I just realized!" Donnie laughed. "Our... our moms must be turtles! Fucking turtles!"

There was a beat of silence as this sunk in before Raph gave a similar reaction. "Damn! I guess you're right, huh?"

"Do you have any idea how much time I wasted in therapy talking about this?" Donnie squeaked out through giggles. "I spent so much time with Mossy talking about our mom and how she didn't want us or whatever the fuck and about the stuff she did to Dad and how I couldn't remember her, and she-- she was never even real! None of that ever even happened! She was just a fucking turtle, wasn't she!? We don’t even have a real mom!"

"Whoa! Mind... blown. I didn't even think about that..." Mikey gaped, his eyes wide. "This whole time I just assumed that our mom was probably the hotel lady..."

"Yeah, me too," Leo agreed.

Donnie blinked.

"You what?"

"Well, you know, that woman that Dad was datin’ right before he disappeared," Raph said. "And she runs the Grand Nexus Hotel, right? All the articles I ever read always mentioned her."

Donnie's eyes twitched. "You thought she was our mother?" He questioned.

"Well, that's who Dad was datin’ last! And for a long time, too. It'd make sense, wouldn't it?" Raph defended.

"Yeah. You didn't think that?" Leo said.

"NO! Why would I think that?!" Donnie was laughing again.

Leo huffed in offense, crossing his arms over his chest. "I'm sorry, do you know something we don't?"

"Apparently!" Donnie exclaimed. "Guys, you've seen pictures of her, right?!"

"Well, yeah?" Mikey tilted his head to the side.

"She's pale as fuck!"

"So?"

"And our Dad is Japanese!"

"And? Donnie, what's your point?"

"We're black!"

"... Ooooohhhhh," all three of his brothers said, nearly in unison, after Donnie's argument finally sunk in.

"Oh my god," Donnie laughed, covering his face with his hands, scrubbing tears from his eyes. "You're all so fucking dumb..."

"I guess our mom would have had to be black. I mean. We got the Japanese half from Dad, but... I never really thought about where the other half came from..." Raph admitted, his mouth still slightly agape like he was still rolling the thought about in his head. 

"Wait a minute," April said, her hands on her hips. "I mean, yeah, all that makes sense, but if you guys have secretly been turtles this whole time, then why are you black?"

"Dude, are all turtles black?" Mikey questioned, his eyes widening.

"I cannot discuss this any further. I'll get a migraine and furthermore cease to function, as I am, and I cannot stress this enough, just barely suppressing the gravity of this whole situation right now," Donnie sighed, gesturing to himself as he turned back to the desk in front of him. "Did anyone find anything yet?"

"Not yet," April sighed, shuffling through some papers. "What even is all this junk?"

"I'm not sure. Some sort of research, it seems like..." Donnie mused, sort of thumbing through a book as he spoke, reading key phrases and chunks of text as quickly as he could and making mental notes so he could refer back to it later. He was more than happy to have something else to focus on, though this would admittedly be a lot easier with human hands. "But I'm still not sure where--"

Shhhh shhhh.

Donnie paused mid-sentence, his brows furrowed. He hadn't noticed that sound before now. He tilted his head a bit to the side, turning in its direction, trying to zero in.

"... Donnie?"

"What's that noise?" He questioned aloud, though his voice was barely above a whisper.

Shhhh shhhhh.

He knew that noise. He recognized it. Where had he heard it before?

Shhhh shhhhh.

... Water, he realized with a start. The noise was running water. Of course. How had he never realized this before?...

That's what he was hearing. That's what he had heard.

"Dee? You good?"

"Guys," he said, turning just enough to glance over in their direction. His face suddenly felt like glass. It was odd. "I think... I think we're in the sewer," he said. "... And I think we've been here before...?"

Before anyone could say anything further, a new noise filled up the space.

Skrrrtttccchhhhh.

"What was that?!" Mikey shrieked, immediately leaping behind his biggest brother to hide. Leo and Donnie were instantly gravitating to each other as well, falling into stance on instinct as they stood back to back, each covering the other. 

"It sounds like something scratching," April said thoughtfully, and true to her word, the same skritching noise clawed its way through the air a moment later, echoing slightly against the walls. "I think it's coming from over here!"

"April!" Raph hissed off a protest as she took off, heading in the direction of the sound. "We don't know what that is!"

"We will if we go look!" She chirped in reply. I mean, come on, what was the benefit of hiding over here instead of investigating? Weren't they curious either way? Besides, they were stuck here regardless-- maybe they'd find something helpful.

The noise continued as April searched, peering around corners and down tunnels, until, finally, she found her prize. Tucked inside one of the off-shoot tunnels, one of the many dead-ends that seemed to surround this space, was a proverbial treasure trove. A variety of odds and ends filled the space; various amulets and scrolls and chests and even weapons were leaned up against the wall or stacked up on the ground. In fact, a lot of weapons were in here. Was this some kind of a weird armory? Or a trophy room? What kind of sewer has a trophy room?

But most interestingly, she found the source of the noise. Inside a small, dimly lit orb, looking as though it were made of some sort of glass, or perhaps even light, was one of the oddest creatures April had ever seen, clawing sadly at the surface of its prison. It had ears like a chihuahua, pointed and too big for its head, with tufts of fur poofing out from inside, but huge eyes like some kind of a cat. Pointed tusks stuck from its mouth like a boar, but soft, downy yellow-and-blue fur covered its entire, squirrel-like body, complete with a fluffy, wriggly tail.

"AW, you guyyssss!" She called out. "Come look! It's cute!"

"April!" The guys were right behind her, with Raph leading the charge. "You can't just run off like-- jumpin' jack flash! What the heck is that thing?!"

"I dunno!" April said with a shrug, immediately making her way into the room, scooping up the orb so she could examine it, looking for a way to open it up. The little critter inside pattered about excitedly, its claws clicking against the smooth surface. "Help me figure out how to get him outta here."

"Are you sure about that?" Leo questioned. "No offense, but we have nooo idea what that thing is! Maybe it's, I dunno, locked up for a reason?"

"What? C'mon, guys, we've gotta help!" Mikey protested, turning on them with big, pleading eyes. Nice, April thought, with Mikey on her side she had basically already won. Suck it, middle children. "Plus, he was locked up by Draxum. So he can't be bad!"

"Yeah! Ever heard ‘the enemy of my enemy is my friend?’" April added in.

"I'm not convinced," Donnie said, crossing his arms over his chest. "I mean, has anyone else noticed that pretty much everything else in this room is a weapon of some kind? Isn't that maybe a bit telling?"

"Aw, come on, Dee. Look at this face!" April insisted, holding up the orb to the others. The creature, to their credit, played their part, pulling an absolutely pitiful face which Mikey immediately echoed, turning to his brothers with watery eyes. 

Checkmate.

"Okay, okay, fine. Look, there's gotta be something in here that can help us bust him out..." Leo muttered, beginning to pick his way through the contents of the room with Raph, Donnie, and Mikey following suit shortly after. 

"Here, what about these?" Leo said after a moment, turning to face them with a pair of twin katanas in hand. "Think I could slice that bad boy open with these guys?"

April scoffed, clutching the orb close to her chest. "Uhm, and this guy in half, maybe!" She protested. "Can we try something a little less deadly, please?"

"Aw, come on! These are cool," Leo protested, grinning as he twirled them in his hands with a metallic shwing.

"You just like them because you always win at any swordsmanship event at tournaments," Donnie remarked dryly, grabbing a long wooden staff to hold in his hands, testing the weight of it. "... That being said, should we maybe grab some of these just in case?"

"Whaddya mean?" Raph glanced over at the other.

"Well, we haven't even made it to the Hidden City yet, and we've already been attacked once," Donnie reasoned, placing a hand on his hip and frowning. "So it wouldn't exactly be a bad idea to have some weapons on hand in case of an emergency." He spun the bo staff in his hands appraisingly a few times. "I mean, obviously this is a bit underwhelming, but I'm sure I could make some improvements once we got back home..."

"Sounds like a good plan to me! Look at all the stuff they’ve got!” Mikey cheered, immediately diving in, beginning to sort through all the various options they had in the room. He chuckled darkly, swinging a pair of nun-chucks in his hands. “These’ll do…”

“Yo, guys!” Raph called, waving to get his brothers’ attention before pointing to the very far corner of the room. “If we’re gonna take stuff, why don’t we take the glowy ones?”

There was, in fact, a weapons rack filled with floating, vaguely glowing weapons, tucked away in the shadows, which only made the glow all that much more tempting. They were simply begging to be taken.

Mikey and Leo, almost in unison, gasped, their faces absolutely lighting up as they raced over to join Raph. “Ooh, dibs on the sword!” Leo cheered, immediately snatching up the odachi and repeatedly striking poses.

“Hot soup! Check me out!” Mikey snatched up a bright orange kusari-fundo, absolutely beaming ear-to-ear. Raph was nearly drooling as he laid his claim on a pair of tonfas, beaming as he gave a few experimental swings. 

“They’re perfect! No one’ll mess with us now!”

“What about you, Donnie?” April questioned, tilting her head back to glance at the remaining brother. “Don’t you want a glowy weapon?”

“And add yet another unknown, uncontrolled variable to our current situation? I’m good,” Donnie scoffed, rolling his eyes. “I’ve trained with a regular, wooden bo staff. I’ll fight with a wooden bo staff, thank you very much. You all have fun with your likely-radioactive weaponry,” he said, waving them off. 

“Here, April, I got something for you, too,” Mikey chirped excitedly, scampering over to present his find to her. “Ta-da!!! Baseball bat!”

It wasn’t a baseball bat-- it was a club. But close enough! April gasped in delight. “It’s perfect!” She enthused, immediately snatching it up, rolling it around in her hands and tapping it against the side of her shoe a few times. Ooh, and the weight was perfect, too. “And I think it can help us get little guy out of this ball thingie, too! Leo, come hold it still for me!”

 "Aw man, why do I gotta hold it?" Leo muttered in complaint but did as he was told regardless, kneeling down to hold the orb steady, taking care in the placement of his hands to minimize the chances of broken fingers.

 "Alright," April said, backing up a bit, her tongue sticking out from between her lips with focus. "This won't hurt a bit..." 

She swung the club back, taking care to temper her strength, and brought it down on the little ball prison with a satisfying crunch. 

"Did it work?" Mikey gasped, his eyes wide as he leaned over. The orb was not shattered nor laying in pieces; but the side of it had caved in considerably, a spiderweb of cracks blossoming from it, and a second later, it simply dissolved as if it had never been there in the first place. The creature that had previously been trapped inside cracked one eye open, having squeezed itself into the very back of its cage, flinching at the oncoming impact, gave an absolute trill of excitement, darting about in celebration.

"There we go!" April said, grinning wide, her hands planted on her hips. "See, told ya I'd get you outta there! That's better, right?"

The little yellow beast threw itself into her lap, wriggling with joy and nuzzling at her with an enthusiastic wag of its tail. "Okay, okay! You're welcome!" April laughed, giggling as she allowed the creature to clamber about in her arms, allowing it time to bounce about before it finally began to settle again.

"Any chance you know how to get out of here, little guy?"

Raph looked up from his phone and his tea at the sound of mail plopping down on the table, glancing over to examine the letters his father had just tossed over in his direction.

"For you," Dad remarked, sorting through the remaining mail from the day.

"For me?" Raph echoed, his brows rising up. "Who the heck is sending me mail?" Curiosity took hold immediately, and he abandoned the wrestling video he had been watching in favor of tearing open the letters on the table.

He was surprised to find college brochures inside. His father, however, did not seem surprised at all, even adding a couple more to the pile.

"It seems you are in high demand," Dad teased, smiling the tiniest bit. "I have received a few emails as well from recruiters recently."

Raph paused for a moment, rolling this idea about in his brain, trying to figure out what it meant and what it tasted like before he forced a small laugh, rubbing the back of his neck nervously.

"Guess they haven't seen my grades yet," he joked weakly. Dad hummed softly, pulling up a chair so he could sit down next to his eldest son.

"Nonsense," he scoffed. "Your grades are fine, Raphael. You've simply tricked yourself into thinking they're not by comparing yourself to others," he added, giving the other a knowing look. "And besides that, this is hardly the only thing that matters. I have told you many times that grades aren't everything. My grades in high school were terrible!" He remarked with a laugh. "And your career in sports is very impressive."

"I guess," Raph said, wrinkling his nose up a bit as he leaned over the table. Easy for him to say. He had a hard time wrapping his head around the idea of colleges being interested in him when his three younger brothers were right here in the same damn house! Had they really meant to send these to Hamato Raphael?

Dad's hand moved to rub little circles into his back, and he nudged his son's teacup a bit. Raph agreeably took a sip, allowing the warm liquid to trickle down through his chest.

"I know you have not always enjoyed schoolwork, Raphael," Dad finally spoke again. "But you are not stupid. You may very well have the most common sense of any of my children!" He chuckled. "And you have many talents besides that. You are a remarkable athlete, and I know I do not have to drag you over to the trophy wall to prove this to you, but I will if I have to. You are only sixteen and you are already the captain of multiple sports teams... not just anyone could handle that! It is difficult to lead a team. But you have always handled this with grace. And teaching children! That is a talent in and of itself. That is no easy task. Trust me, I know," he said, smiling slightly. "But you are doing so well with your new job. And I am very proud of you."

 Raphael glanced over at his father, for just a moment, hesitating like he wanted to say something, but then biting it back.

"You don't have to go to college if you don't want to," Dad added. "If you decide that is not the path for you, that is fine. I won't be upset or disappointed. I did not go to college, either! But I would hate for you to not even consider it just because you don't think you're good enough for it," he pressed. "I know you've always said you intend to pursue a career in sports of some kind, but this is very much an avenue to achieve that if you'd like. Many professional athletes get their start through college sports, you know. And I can already name half a dozen universities off the top of my head who would be thrilled to have you on their team in a couple of years!"

He sighed softly.

"But you do not have to decide right now, my son. There is still plenty of time for you to consider all of your options."

Raph glanced over at his father, shifting a bit in his seat, before looking to the side.

"Uh. I dunno, Pops. I mean. I'm not good at tests and all that junk. I mean. College football could be cool 'n all, but, uh..."

He faltered for a second, sort of scratching the side of his jaw, hesitating before he spoke again. "I dunno. Maybe I could... I mean. We could look at it, at least. I was kind of wonderin’ about, uh. I dunno… Just, lately, I was thinkin' about... studyin' early childhood education, maybe?..."

Chapter Text

"BARON DRAXUM!"

Everyone in the room winced, including Baron Draxum, who awoke with a start, sitting stark upright and snarling in response as he swayed.

"Jeez, Recruit... Love the enthusiasm, but tone it down a bit, maybe," Lieutenant bit out, rubbing his ears, still reeling from the volume of her wake-up call. Casey flushed just the tiniest bit.

"My apologies, sensei!" She cried, immediately falling into a bow, but privately she thought to herself it worked, didn't it? Nothing else that they had tried had even begun to stir the yokai, who they had found tied up and in an unconscious heap inside his own underground lab. They had arrived expecting to help transport the Hamato children to their main hideout, certain they would be, of course, apprehended neatly by Draxum by now... but evidently this was not the case.

"What in the world happened?" The Lieutenant voiced Casey's own thoughts aloud, holding his hands out exasperatedly. "You said you were going to get the Hamatos."

"Yes, well, things were a bit more complicated than I anticipated..." Draxum hissed, gritting his teeth.

"You said you could handle them on your own! We offered to send you back-up, but you didn't want to wait! Surely four children didn't overpower you--"

"They did not overpower me," Draxum snapped, turning to snarl as he dragged himself back up to his feet. "Some damned witch placed a protection spell on them," he seethed, absolutely bristling. "I can't touch them..." He grit his teeth. "... I will simply have to account for this in the future..."

Lieutenant and Brute seemed somewhat unimpressed, Cassandra noted, glancing at them from the corners of her eyes as the two exchanged looks.

"Yes, well," Lieutenant mused, his hands on his hips. "I'm sure there will be other opportunities to kidnap children in the future. However, the Dark Armor remains our priority. Come on. We've wasted enough time here, and we have a new lead to investigate..."

"Don't worry. You'll get 'em next time," Brute tried to encourage, patting Draxum's shoulders, to which he snarled and batted his hands away, grumbling to himself as he stalked off after them, discussing as they went.

Cassandra sighed softly, rolling her shoulders back and forth a few times before she trailed after her three superiors.

Yes.... The Dark Armor was the priority.

The collective shriek of their group was cut off by a loud thud, immediately followed by a chorus of groans. Okay, so, travel by teleportation was... a little disorientating. The fact that most of them currently sucked at staying on their own two damn feet didn't help matters. Some more than others.

"Sorry!" Raph immediately bit out, wriggling from atop the heap, an awkward chuckle escaping him. 

"Raph, my wonderful brother," Leo grit out. "You know I love you dearly. But I'm really gonna need you to stop knocking us all over like bowling pins. "

"Well, look, you try walkin' around with a giant tail you ain't used to! It's not as easy as it looks!" He defended, throwing his hands up. "I'm doin' my best over here!"

"Whoa!" Mikey effectively ended their squabble with his gasp, sitting up quickly in order to give a wild gesture. "Guys, look!"

And damn. Whoa was right.

Raph was a New Yorker, so he wasn't easy to impress. He wasn't immediately awed by big, sprawling cityscapes or towering skyscrapers, but this place was... something else. It looked somewhere between an actual city and some sort of mystic ruin, residing as 'neither' and 'both' all at the same time. The buildings themselves seemed to grow from the stone landscape, curving and sliding to match the terrain. Glowing mushrooms, crystals, and occasionally the eyes of massive statues provided brightly colored lighting, leaving the various neon signs and backlit advertisements of the city seeming pale in comparison. Street vendors, kiosks, and tents lined the bustling streets, and each and every creature making up the massive crowds was something completely alien that Raph had never seen nor imagined before. Yokai, he thought to himself. That's what April said they were called.

Rather than sharp, straight lines and confident corners, this place seemed built from jagged outlines and curving bends, looping and winding around itself as if the entire city were hanging on, clinging to itself, holding hands, nestled in between the hulking forms of unmoving stone creatures that Raph was unsure how to categorize. He didn't feel confident saying that they weren't alive after the day they had had, despite their frozen forms and their dead, unseeing eyes.

"This must be the Hidden City," Mikey said, and Leo let out a low whistle as the five of them took in the view.

"Good job, little guy. Knew you could get us here," April hummed, giving the little yellow creature they had rescued a squeeze. His tail wagged wildly in reply, snuggling up in her embrace.

"Alright, now we just gotta get to the Battle Nexus from here," Leo said with a sigh, shifting his weight onto one leg, hand on his hip as he glanced over at the yellow critter. "Any idea where that is?"

The creature chirred in response, nodding excitedly and scrambling down from April's arms in order to lead the way. Leo grinned. 

"Okay, I take back all my earlier doubts and hesitations. Bringing this guy with us was a great idea," Leo declared as the group set off.

Though the acquisition of weapons, all tucked or stowed away in backpacks or belt loops or pockets, had helped a bit, Raph had still been, admittedly, pretty nervous about entering the city, a pool of anxiety swirling around in his gut. Given the day they had had so far, he couldn't help but imagine a hoard of devious yokai dogpiling him and his siblings the moment they set foot into unknown territory. But, to his quiet surprise, no one spared them even a second glance, all seeming far too occupied with their own errands and lives to glance over at their ragtag group.

Somehow, this made Raph feel a bit better. For several reasons. He supposed that, at the very least, they didn't seem to be freaks here.

"Don't worry, Dad, we're on our way," Mikey chirped, and despite his current relief, Raph still couldn't quite understand how his little brother could be so cheerful . Mikey always amazed him with his emotional resilience. Wished he had some of that.

"Eugh, is he even gonna recognize us when we get there?" Leo said with a wince, wrinkling up his face a bit. "We look, uh... a little different than when he last saw us."

"I'm pretty sure he knows, Leo," Donnie remarked. "He's the one who put the bracelets on us in the first place. He knows." 

Raph glanced dimly down at the little golden bracelet still encircling his wrist, the red gem now seeming a bit duller somehow, and he frowned. So this little trinket was mystic all along, huh? Now that he knew, it seemed stupidly obvious. He wondered anxiously if they still worked anymore, or if they were broken forever.

"No wonder he didn't want us to take these things off," Leo muttered, looking over his own, holding his arm up to examine it. "Jeez. I can't believe he kept this a secret from us. How did we not know?"

Mikey gave a thoughtful hum. "Do you guys remember when we were really little? Before we moved? And we used to pretend we were turtles all the time?"

"Somehow I don't think that was pretend, Mikey," Donnie said with a roll of his eyes.

"That's what I'm saying!" Mikey insisted. "But you guys do remember that, right? I just... I always thought that that was just us playing a game or something, but it must have been real! So we knew at some point!"

"And then we forgot..." Donnie mumbled, tilting his head to the side thoughtfully, already obviously doing calculations in his head. 

"You guys were pretty weird when you first moved here," April remarked.

"Oh come on. How do you just forget that you're a turtle?" Leo argued, glancing over his shoulder at the others. "That seems like the kind of thing that'd stick with you."

"I dunno," Mikey shrugged. "But obviously we did!"

"You're not implyin' that Dad did somethin', are ya?" Raph questioned, narrowing his eyes, and Leo immediately huffed.

"No! Of course not!" He frowned. "It's just... I dunno. It's weird, is all. It's crazy to think about how much stuff that we just... forgot."

"Well, what do you remember?" Donnie nudged. "Like, from before the move."

"Not much," Leo admitted, scrunching up his nose. "Everything from back then is fuzzy. I don't even know where we moved from."

"I think..." Donnie hesitated a moment. "I think we moved from there."

"Where. The Hidden City?" Mikey questioned.

"No, no, back there. I mean. The sewer we were in before," Donnie pressed. "Didn't it seem... kind of familiar to you guys?"

"Well..." Raph frowned.

"Mikey! Wait!" Raph laughed, stumbling as he chased after his littlest brother. He still didn't walk with a terrible amount of grace, but he crawled like a madman, and Raph took great joy in chasing him around. Mikey did, too, giggling maniacally as he attempted to dodge the other.

Raph could feel, reaching back into the memory, that the bottoms of his feet were cold. The ground was hard beneath them, like stone. Like concrete. He remembered worrying about Mikey's knees. And, thinking back on it now, he swore he could almost hear the sound of running water in the background.

"I go’chyu!" Raph declared, grabbing Mikey, who squealed in response, wriggling against him.

Everything from back then was blurred; cobbled together like pieces of glass glued into a mosaic, appearing in his mind’s eye as a series of blotted, wrinkled images. Were they turtles or people back then? He wasn't sure. Where were they?

"I remember it was dark..." He said. "And cold a lot. The ground was stone or somethin.’"

"I remember that, too!" Mikey gasped.

"Whoa, wait!" Mikey squirmed his way out of Raph's arms again, attempting an escape, and a flare of panic flashed through him for a moment. He dove for Mikey for real this time, not playing anymore, grabbing his brother before he could get too far.

"We can't go that way, Mikey. Daddy said 's not safe yet," he explained when his brother whined in complaint, hoisting him back the way they came, his footsteps clumsy while trying to drag his brother along. "We gotta stay in these tunnels."

"And... I think I remember there being… tunnels," he continued. "Or somethin' like that. It was really big, wherever we were, but we could only go into certain places. And the rest was off-limits, ‘cause Dad said he hadn’t checked them all to make sure they were okay yet. I remember keepin' Mikey from wanderin' off."

"I remember tunnels!" Mikey exclaimed. "I remember yelling into them when we were little and listening to them echo. I remember doing it until Leo made me stop!"

"I don't remember that," Leo protested, crossing his arms.

"You did!" Mikey insisted. "You said I had to play something else because it was bothering Donnie."

"That would be in character for you," April remarked with a tiny grin. 

"Sounds like sewers to me," Donnie said with a shrug.

"Maybe," Leo conceded. "But why the hell would Dad keep us in the sewers?"

"There’s probably limited options when your kids are literally part-turtle," Raph reasoned with a grumble.

"Yeah, but abandoned sewers?" Leo pressed. "Come on. Was that really the only choice? Couldn't he have just... kept us inside or something?"

"I don't think so," Donnie said, frowning a bit, shaking his head. Leo sighed.

"Why not?"

"Leo, Dad has one of these bracelets, too," Donnie said. "Remember?"

The rest of their journey through the Hidden City went about the same way. One of the boys would bring up some old memory, and they'd discuss for a while, before the conversation would peter out and they'd walk in silence for a bit before the cycle started all over again. April pointed out that they had all regularly chirped and clicked and made other odd noises when she had first met them, but eventually, they grew out of it (mostly.) Raph discussed his memories of watching his younger brothers when they were very little, waiting somewhere dark and quiet for their dad to get back from wherever he was going. Donnie and Leo both remembered sleeping together as toddlers, somewhere very small and curled up, like a nest of some kind, both agreeing that it didn't quite seem like a crib or a bed. Mikey mentioned how many times he got in trouble for painting or drawing on walls when they first moved into the apartment, and how much it had upset and confused him in the beginning-- was that because their dad hadn't bothered to correct the behavior when they lived in the sewers? 

"When we first started swim team," Donnie mused, tilting his head back to stare up at the sky. "I remember sometimes, we would have contests with the other kids to see how long we could hold our breaths."

"I remember that," Leo agreed. "And we'd always win!"

"Yes, but..." Donnie hummed. "I think we probably could have won by a lot more if we wanted."

"What do you mean?" Raph questioned.

"Well," Donnie explained. "I recall, or, at least, I think I do, that… that when we first started partaking in those contests, it was... it was easy. Everyone else would have already come up to breathe, but I'd feel completely fine. I'd only come up because I had won and the contest was over. But after a while, people started being weird about it," he frowned. "To be fair, people were weird about a lot of things I did. And I will admit I didn’t always catch on, but I noticed this one,” he said, laughing dryly and giving a wave of his hands. “And at the time, I just wrote it off as one of many! Just another thing that I did that made me different from my peers. But I started coming up earlier so I'd be more... normal," he confessed. "And I'd pretend like I was out of breath when I wasn't, so people would stop looking at me like that. Or, well. People stopped looking at me like that for that particular reason. And I guess eventually I just... I got so used to pretending that it just became second nature, and I didn’t even realize I was pretending anymore."

Leo nodded slowly, looking thoughtful, his arms crossed over his chest. “Yeah… Yeah, that sounds… that sounds right, actually…”

"I remember thinking the same thing!" Raph exclaimed, his eyes wide at the realization. "Except I felt bad that all the other kids kept losin' so bad! I started pretendin' 'cause I didn't want everyone else to get discouraged, and I just did it for so long...!"

"But you're the best swimmer, Dee," Leo remarked, nudging his twin slightly with a tiny smile. "So I wouldn't be surprised if you can hold your breath the longest, too. I mean, christ, you literally have webbed fingers now."

April glanced down at her brother’s hands, noting quietly to herself that it was true. If she was being totally honest with herself, it was a bit alien to look at, so she drew her eyes back away after a moment.

"That does make sense," April hummed. "And it'd explain why you guys are so good at swim meets and stuff, too."

The other three paused, and Leo frowned a bit. "What do you mean?"

"Well, I mean. If you're turtles, then... obviously you're gonna be good at swimming," she reasoned with a shrug. "It makes sense. Of course you’re gonna win!"

"Mikey doesn't swim," Donnie pointed out.

"Maybe he's a different kind of turtle who doesn't swim?"

"A terrestrial turtle..." Donnie hummed, resting his chin in his hand, brows furrowed. "Maybe a box turtle or something..."

"You think I'm a box turtle?!" Mikey gasped, his eyes lighting up.

"But obviously the rest of you would be good at swimming if you're, like, aquatic," she continued. "So I'm not surprised you all always kicked so much butt at swim meets and stuff!"

"... Yeah. I guess so," Raph said, but he seemed kind of... dejected, almost. Like he was upset. The conversation shifted shortly after, focus shifting to Mikey’s new identity as a box turtle, but April's mind lingered.

 Why did she feel like she had just said something wrong? 

“This is the Battle Nexus?!"

 Raph gawked slightly, suddenly feeling a lot less confident. He could feel the various winces and mumbles around him. "It's a goddamn fortress! We're never gettin' in there!"

"Oh, come on. What were you expecting? To just walk in?" Leo scoffed. "It's not that bad!"

"Not that bad?!" Raph squawked, turning to gesture wildly to the massive walls, the towering, heavily guarded entrances, the watch towers perched on nearly every corner... Christ, was that a blimp overhead!? "Are you crazy?! There’s no way!!!"

"Well, not with that attitude," Leo said, crossing his arms over his chest. 

"Yeah! We're basically ninjas, Raph, we got this!" Mikey cheered, ever optimistic.

"We’re not ninjas, Mikey. And there's no way in hell we're sneakin' in there. You two are out of your mind," Raph said with a scowl. 

"We don't gotta sneak!" Leo insisted, waving away the other's concerns. "Don't worry! I'll talk us in there, no problem! Leon's got this. I'm an actor, remember? I just gotta charisma our way past one of those guards."

"You wanna talk your way in?" April questioned, raising a brow. "Leo, are you sure about this?"

"Of course I'm sure! This'll be a piece of cake. C'mon-- watch and be amazed!"

They were not amazed.

"Seriously, Leo?" Raph hissed, no more than five minutes later, the group slinking back into the same alley they had started from with a few new bumps and bruises and their metaphorical (literal?) tails between their legs. "Caravaggio? The awards show host? From the Bloodsporties?"

"I thought it'd work!" Leo cried, throwing up his hands. "Everyone likes to be flattered! People love it when you bring them awards!"

"Why do you need four assistants to drop off an award?" Donnie hissed.

"It's a very important award!" Leo insisted.

"That no one's ever heard of?!"

"Yet," Leo huffed. "Okay, look, it's fine. Leon's still got this. We just gotta switch over to plan B."

"Plan B had better not be at all similar to Plan A," Raph said, crossing his arms. "Or involve any of us being strong-armed off the premises by a massive yokai guard!"

"It won't, it won't, I promise!" Leo assured, getting to his feet again. "Okay. Watch and be amazed! Again!"

Leo shook out his limbs, straightening his posture, rolling his shoulders back, and setting his feet apart. And then, for just a moment, he was completely still. His chest didn't even twitch with a single breath. All at once, he inhaled sharply--

 ... And nothing happened.

"Wow. Amazing," Donnie said dryly.

"Well, just, gimme a minute! You're breaking my concentration!" Leo snapped, repeating the motion-- and then again, and then a few more times, until he was basically flailing in place, repeatedly thrashing in the same spot. "Come-- ON! Work already!"

"Leo, what the hell are you doin'?" Raph sighed. Leo groaned loudly in frustration.

"I am trying to use my mystic teleportation powers! Obviously!"

"Your what?" Donnie scoffed.

"I'm sorry, you mean the weird mystic things that we've been doin' completely against our will for the past two weeks and have absolutely zero control over? That one?" Raph grit out.

"Well, I'm starting to get the hang of the pattern..." Leo muttered.

"You've gotta be kiddin' me!!!"

"Well, maybe he can really do it!" Mikey chipped in with a bit of tentative encouragement. 

"So, let me get this straight," Donnie said, rubbing his temples. "You are trying to teleport all six of us inside of the Battle Nexus... using your mind. Is that correct?"

Leo scowled. He shuffled his feet at the dirt, his lower lip poked out.

"It could happen," he huffed.

"You're an idiot."

"Leo, there's no way this is ever gonna work! We barely even know anything about these powers!" Raph insisted. "What if it's dangerous?!"

"I'm getting the hang of it!" Leo repeated. "I could do it! And how would you know, anyway? You don't even have any powers yet!"

"Guys!" April yelled over the chaos, and the rest of the group paused to glance over.

Scowling, she gestured wildly to the little yellow yokai creature that had led him here.

Oh, right. The one who teleported.

There was a long beat of silence.

"Yeah, that's probably a better plan," Leo reluctantly conceded, though he was still pouting. 

"Thank you," April said, scooping the yokai up, who purred and waved his tail, seemingly happy to help. "Okay, come on guys, huddle up. And try not to fall over this time!"

The whole group obeyed, scrunching up around each other and grabbing onto various hands and elbows to make sure everyone would make it to where they needed to go. But something Leo had said nagged at the edges of Raph's mind, gnawing at him even as a bright flash of cyan light overtook them, the world going out from under their feet as they teleported once again.

Why didn't he have any powers yet?

Donatello wasn’t exactly sure what he was expecting the inside of the Battle Nexus to look like, but it wasn’t ‘literal sports stadium.’

Though they stumbled a bit, they all managed to keep their footing this time once they teleported inside the halls of the Battle Nexus, thankfully in a quiet, unoccupied corner just outside of a stairwell. Perhaps it had been naive of him, but he hadn’t expected the inside of this place to so closely resemble the inside of a modern football arena. 

“Nice job, little guy,” April whispered to the little yellow yokai, who looked just a bit more tired than he had before, Donnie noted, panting softly. “We’ll take it from here. You rest,” she instructed gently, tucking the critter into her jacket. 

“Anyone have any idea where we’re going?” Leo questioned, looking around suspiciously.

“No,” Raph admitted. “But everyone stick close. And… act casual. This place has gotta be crawling with yokai!” Donnie concurred; he could hear the roars of the crowd from here. “If we don’t call any attention to ourselves, we can just blend in. Dad has be around here somewhere.”

“You got it, bossman,” Leo hummed. “Come on. I think the main stadium is over there. Let’s check that out first and see what the deal is.” 

Now, Donnie may be a theater kid, but he was not exactly an actor the way Leo was, (or claimed to be, anyway,) and so ‘acting casual’ was a bit of a demand. He was very focused on trying to make his body language ‘casual,’ in keeping his muscles untensed and his expression neutral, to the extent that he was not especially paying that much attention to their surroundings as the group trailed after Leo. He followed his siblings’ lead into the main seating area of the arena, adjusting the settings of his headphones slightly as they moved to join the edges of the crowd, hoping to keep out the excited screams of the fans.

As a result, he was a bit taken aback when he did look up to take in the scene of the ring below them.

And oh. Oh my god.

This really was fucking bloodsport, huh?

“Jesus christ--”

He was vaguely aware of Raph’s hand hurriedly slapping over Mikey’s eyes before he could get a good look at the scene not just in the battle ring below, but also projected onto the massive jumbotron, and the younger immediately gave a yelp of protest.

“Hey! Raph--”

“Mikey, I know that you don’t wanna be babied and you’re gonna complain, but I really need you to just trust your big brother on this one,” Raph hissed out, his voice tight. “Don’t. Look.”

April had her hands over her mouth, and Leo bristled, mumbling a few curses. Donnie really, really didn’t want to be watching this, but he couldn’t quite take his eyes away. There was a wet, crunching noise, so loud that they could hear it even from up here in the balconies (were they mic’ed up? Sweet baby Galileo--) and the entire party winced around him as the crowds roared in delight.

“What happened?!” Mikey cried from behind Raph’s hands.

“Donnie?” April said, glancing over at him.

He swallowed hard, his stomach flipping. No, no, no. Come on. Keep it together, Vomitello. Not the time, not the place, not at all casual…! 

Leo, to his credit, caught on pretty quickly, paling a bit at the realization and jumping forward to bodily whip Donnie away from the scene, beginning to herd the group away.

“Okay, well, Dad’s definitely not down there!” He bit out with a nervous laugh. “Thank fucking god… Look. Obviously, we’re up super high. Let’s find the stairs, start heading down, and see if we find anything on the way,” he said hurriedly, not slowing his pace until they were basically back out where they started, in the near-abandoned outside hallways. 

“Sounds like a plan,” Raph said, finally releasing his grip on Mikey’s head. “Uh. Don…?”

“I’m good,” he squeaked out, leaning over slightly, his hands on his knees as he coughed a few times. “All good, no problem…! Just… gimme a second…!”

“Donald,” Leo said through gritted teeth, clapping his hands together decisively. “I am literally begging you not to puke right now.”

“I am doing my best, thank you!” Donnie snapped in response, squeezing his eyes shut. “Oh my god, why was it so lumpy? It looked like cottage cheese!”

“What are you doing!? Stop thinking about it!” Leo cried. 

“Think about something else instead! Like… the periodic table! You love that thing,” Mikey suggested brightly. “Like, uhhh, what’s the symbol for chlorine?”

“C-L,” Donnie bit out, flapping his hands a bit and letting out a slow breath through a clenched jaw. “Come on, Mikey, that’s way too easy.”

“Okay, uhhm, what’s the atomic number for iodine?”

“Fifty-three.”

“Yeah! And what’s the atomic mass of titanium?”

“Forty-seven-point-eight-six-seven.”

“Yep! And uranium?”

“Oh, uranium, my beloved, my white whale…! Two-hundred and thirty-eight-point-zero-two-eight-nine.”

“AHHH!” Mikey imitated a buzzer. “Wrong!”

Donnie’s head snapped up. “What?!”

“Just kidding!” Mikey chirped happily. “I don’t actually know the answer. You’re probably right.”

“Oh, you evil genius,” Donnie said, shaking his head. “I’m never helping you study for science class ever again.”

“Pshhhh, yeah you will. Plus you feel better now, don’t you?” Mikey pressed, grinning wide.

“Yes, okay, fine. I owe you one,” Donnie sighed deeply, offering just the smallest of smiles and rubbing the other’s head as though tousling hair, (not that he had any anymore. Ugh, don’t think about that, either,) eliciting a giggle from the other. At least the nausea had backed off now. “Okay. Come on. Leo’s right, shockingly enough. Let’s head downstairs and see if we can find anything.” 

“Oh thank god,” Leo whispered, yanking the door to the stairwell open and gesturing to his siblings. “Okay, c’mon, let’s go! Vamanos!” 

The trip down through the Battle Nexus was long and boring, but admittedly, calming. Donnie had always been a fan of repetitive actions, and so far, every new floor they investigated they found much of the same, not uncovering much save for more seating for screaming, cheering yokai along with the occasional food court or souvenir stand. Any guards they found they made sure to steer clear of, slowly working their way down through the stadium.

“This is going nowhere,” Raph hissed softly, leaning into Leo as they did a lap through yet another floor of stadium seating. Quite frankly, Donnie was beginning to wonder if all these floors were exactly the same. “Where the heck do you think they’re keepin’ Dad?”

“I don’t know! How would I know?” Leo questioned, bristling a bit.

“This was your plan!”

“Yeah, ‘cause no one else had a plan!” He bit back, scowling. “Look, we’ve just gotta… uh… we’ve gotta…” He looked around for a moment, floundering for just a second before he lit up, pointing.

“We’ve just gotta follow one of those guys!” 

Everyone glanced over, and April frowned a bit.

“Follow one of the guards?”

“Yeah!” Leo nodded excitedly. “Look, if anyone’s gonna know how to get into the secret, spooky parts of the Nexus, it’ll be an employee! There’s no way Dad’s just in the stands somewhere or in any of the other public bits of this place. And we’re just walking in circles.” He said with a roll of his wrist. “But I bet if we tail one of those dudes, they’ll lead us straight to him! We just gotta be sneaky.”

“He does have a pretty good point,” Mikey reasoned.

“I dunno. It seems kinda dangerous,” April said, raising a brow. 

“Yeah, but we don’t have any other ideas…” Raph said, crossing his arms over his chest.

The three of them glanced over at Donnie, and he sighed, tilting his head back and forth for a moment to do some rapid calculations.

“I do agree that the risk associated with this plan of action is… significant,” he said, frowning a bit. “Butttttt… just wandering around aimlessly isn’t going to get us anywhere. Following someone has a much higher probability of success.” 

“That sounds good enough to me!” Raph said, giving a nod. “Alright. Let’s do this then. Everyone’s just gotta be ninja-level sneaky. Got it?”

“Got it,” the group agreed, giving a nod.

Would this go horribly wrong? Only one way to find out.

Finding their target was easy enough. This place was crawling with guards, quite frankly, they just had to pick one. After rejecting the first few targets, as they were all rather beefy, they settled on a slightly smaller, less-deadly-looking Nexus employee to follow.

“Okay,” Leo said. “We’ve just gotta tail him for a while and see where he goes. Everyone stick close, and be quiet.”

“Obviously! You don’t have to tell us to be quiet!” Donnie hissed back.

“Both of you shut up!” Raph whispered. “Look, come on, pay attention! He’s on the move. Mad Dogz, roll out! We can’t lose this guy.” 

Donnie huffed and grumbled a bit, resisting the urge to hipcheck Leo as the group began picking their way through the halls, taking care to stick to the shadows. At first, Donnie thought that this was just another waste of their time, and they would end up doing even more laps around the stadium. He dared to get his hopes up, however, when the fox-like yokai paused in front of an unassuming wall. It looked about the same as any other portion of wall in this place, but once the Yokai placed his hand (paw?) to it, it lit up white, and suddenly, there was a door that wasn’t there before.

“Whoa! Lookit that!” Mikey gasped.

“We’re all already looking at it, Mikey, be quiet,” Donnie hissed. 

“What’d Raph say!? Shut it! And come on! Quick and quiet, before the door closes!” Raph whispered with a hurried wave of his arm, and the five took off, closing the gap between themselves and the guard in order to slip inside the secret panel, quiet as ninjas-- just like Dad taught them. Even April was surprisingly quiet, and Donnie was privately impressed. It took them years of lessons with their dad (and ill-advised shenanigans that they wished not to face consequences for,) to get this good at sneaking.

All five of them made it in, and the guard was already halfway down the hall by the time they joined them, seemingly none the wiser. Donnie didn’t make a sound, but silently, he fucking whooped and cheered. Yes!!! He had been really fifty-fifty on whether or not this was going to work out. 

At the end of the hall, the fox guard clicked a button on the wall, and about five seconds later, the wall opened up like an elevator.

The elevator had about eight other yokai inside. These yokai did not have their backs on them.

“HEY!” One of them immediately shouted, pointing at their group, as they had not yet managed to find a proper hiding space in the long, but sparse hallway. Every single other yokai snapped around to look at them. “What’re you doing in here!? This is employees only!”

Fuck.

“Uhhh…” A pained smile spread on Leo’s face. “We’re looking for the bathroom?” 

 “Sure,” the fox scoffed, turning to face them properly now, beginning to make his way back down the hall to meet them. “Alright, lemme see your tickets. I’ll escort you back to your seats.”

“Our tickets? Uhhh… Sure…” Raph spluttered for a moment, laughing nervously. “Let’s see, uh, where did we put--”

April yanked her club from her backpack and promptly slammed it into the yokai’s head with a loud thunk.

“APRIL!” Raph screamed, jumping in surprise. “What the hell!?”

“Well, there’s nowhere to run!” She shouted in response, and, ah, welp, there she went. Full charge ahead, then? “Come on, we gotta get into that elevator!”

Donnie sighed deeply. Well, he had predicted fifty-fifty. 

He set his jaw, rolling his shoulders a few times before whipping his bo staff from his back. “Alright, well. Here we go.”

“COWABUNGA!” Raph shouted as he charged forward, and Donnie resisted the urge to roll his eyes. They were gonna have to work on battle formations and plans later.

But he was prepared this time. He wasn’t gonna freeze up and back down.

Yes, this was a fight. An actual, for real fight, which he had never been in before! But he hadn’t trained for nothing. 

He got this. They’d be fine. They got this.

Leo laughed, sliding forward with quick, practiced ease, his odachi flashing forward to smack the blunt of the blade against the ankles of the nearest yokai and send them tumbling to the ground while he darted past them. April was right on his tail, beaning anyone who got too close and following her younger brother’s lead. “Come on, guys, keep up!”

“Right behind yah!” Mikey cheered, both him and Raph rushing forward at a matching pace. Despite the size difference, the two easily kept up with one another. Where Raph elbowed his opponents out of the way, clearing himself a path by bodily throwing their enemies to the side, Mikey darted and danced his way around them, a zig-zagged ballet to Raph’s straight, unyielding path. He whooped loudly as he went, always just out of reach with each step.

“Hot Soup!” Donnie noted their eldest brother howled out another battle cry (wasn’t that copyrighted?) Mikey’s kusari-fundo whipped about to fling him forward, tackling the largest of the guards to the ground and sending them both tumbling down the hall. 

Like… Both of them tumbling.

Also, Mikey was in the mix too, still attached by the chains of his kusari-fundo.

Well, at least it was still forward momentum! 

Donnie inhaled deeply, his muscles coiling.

Couldn’t get left behind. 

He darted down the hallway, jumping over and dodging around anyone already on the ground. At one point, a hand flashed out, grabbing at his ankle, and Donnie bit out a series of curses. He wrenched himself out of their grip, stumbling slightly, and nearly ran straight into one of the other (quite large) yokai in the hallway. A rapid equation darted through his head, however, and he just barely managed to correct his footing at the last second, turning sharply on his heel to transfer the momentum into his staff. The weapon curled around to slam into the guard with a heavy, satisfying thawk, sending them sprawling to the ground, and the entire hallway shuddered at the impact.

Well, that was a close one. He hopped over their fallen form and surged ahead, reaching down to grab Mikey’s hand as he went, dragging both him and Raph to their feet behind him, “Come on!”

The two found their footing quickly with the assist, falling back into a sprint-- smacking and dodging enemies as they went with about a seventy-five-percent success rate. Jesus, had this hallway always been this long? It felt like it was taking a stupid amount of time to get to the other end of it! Out of the very corners of his eyes, Donnie just barely spotted one of the larger guards rising back up to their feet, lunging at him from behind-- only for a neon green club to come whipping out of nowhere at the very last second, colliding with the side of his assailant’s head and throwing him right back to the ground.

“Hey! Only I get to hit my little brothers!” April shrieked, her face set in a furious scowl. The guard, a huge, stocky, lion-like creature snarled in reply, lashing out with his legs to send her sprawling to the floor with a yelp.

“Oh, you did not just do that to our friend!” Mikey snapped, flashing forward to stand protectively in front of their sister, his kusari-fundo whizzing around them, filling the air with a barely-there whine. “Back off!”

He lashed out with the weapon, his arm whipping forward with the movement-- only to blink in surprise when physics failed to behave as expected. Which, uh, was pretty unusual for physics. Physics were typically pretty reliable. But the weight at the end of his weapon spun wildly in place, suspended in air for several long seconds, before it promptly lit up in a blazing flame.

“Ooh!” Mikey shrieked in delight. “Magic weapon! Guys, loo-- ACK!”

And there they were, Donnie thought dimly to himself. 

The uncontrolled variables.

Donnie gasped, immediately ducking down and covering his head as his brother flew about the room like a deranged bird, still hanging onto his (seemingly demonic) mystic weapon. He all but pinballed off the walls, screaming the whole time. The lion just barely managed to leap out of the way before Mikey crashed into the wall, flopping down with a small squeak on impact, luckily seeming shaken but not injured.

“WHOA! Mikey! That was awesome!” Raph gaped, his eyes widening. “Dude, how did you do that?!”

“I dunno!” Mikey said, stumbling to his feet and kind of wavering a bit with dizziness. “I was just swinging my weapon around and it just-- did it!”

“Let me try!” Raph said, shaking his tonfas about like they were goddamn maracas. “Come on, magic weapon, magic weapon, magic weapon-- OOH!” He yelped in surprise as one of the remaining guards crashed into him, snarling as they all but whipped him from his feet. But Raph held his ground. “Okay, alright-- magic weapon tests later! Fight now!”

“Can’t wait to see what mine does!” Leo laughed as he leaped over the group, diving towards an oncoming yokai. He swung his blade forward, slicing through the air with a loud crackle of near-electric energy--

A bright blue circle of mystic energy promptly opened up beneath Leo, and he yelped in surprise as he went plunging downward.

And downward.

And downward.

And downward.

And downward.

“Hm,” Donnie remarked. “I guess he can teleport.” 

“GET! ME! OFF! THIS! RIDE!” Leo howled, flailing as he plummeted endlessly through the two parallel portals he had sliced through reality, one below his feet and the other up above his head, only picking up the pace the longer he fell. 

Donnie sighed loudly. He was sure someone else would get him. Eventually. In the meantime, someone was gonna have to take care of the remaining yokai guards. Luckily, this one was suitably distracted by his twin brother’s infinite falling.

“And that’s why I like fighting the old-fashioned way,” Donnie hummed, slipping past the yokai’s side and into his blind spot, watching their eyes widen in surprise as he jabbed sharply at them with his bo staff. They were just barely able to dodge out of the way of Donnie’s attacks. “Though the portal does make for some quality entertainment, I must admit--”

They jumped out of Donnie’s range, swiping forward with a clawed arm, and Donnie’s body immediately, instinctively moved in response, his bo staff flashing upward to block the move and force them off-kilter. He hardly even had to think. His body already knew what to do when he needed it.

It’s just like a tournament. No different from a tournament. You’ve won thousands of fights. This is exactly the same thing. Just keep your head, do the math-- You’re good at this, remember?

Bouncing off the yokai’s arm, Donnie’s staff whipped back around to ricochet into the side of their head, earning him a frustrated and perhaps pained snarl in response. See? Donnie grinned, just for a second, ducking easily out of the way of the guard’s counterattack and leaping to the side, finding himself the space once more to adjust his stance and run rapid calculations. Numbers danced in front of his eyes, and he quickly zeroed in on the equation with the best probability of success, building his plan of action around that.

The yokai snarled, leaping after him-- exactly as he expected. Donnie’s entire body instantly snapped downward and out of their path in response, ducking away from their attack. At the same time, they pitched themselves to the left, whipping their bo staff around as they went to find their mark. The guard made a short, strangled noise of surprise as the weapon collided with their throat, sending them reeling in the opposite direction. They were almost immediately on their knees, choking and spluttering as Donnie darted away, just the tiniest bit breathless as he went.

“Just like I planned it--!” He had laughed, quietly delighted that it had, in fact, gone the way he planned it, and why had he been worried? He could do this, he knew how to do this!-- when his youngest sibling went flying into his side with a yelp. 

The pair of them tumbled across the hallway before slamming into the wall, bringing their unexpected trip to a sudden and grinding halt. Donnie groaned softly, wincing as he slowly forced himself back up, stars all but dancing in front of his eyes, Mikey flopped over beside him and seeming just as dazed. Ow. Okay. That hadn’t been in his calculations.

He just barely caught sight of the lion yokai diving for them, catching on about half a second before the attack landed. 

He didn’t run any numbers this time. He didn’t have the chance.

His muscles moved quicker than even his brain could, throwing himself bodily over top of his baby brother to shield him from the coming impact.

Chapter Text

When Donnie next woke up, they realized quickly that they were somewhere cold and dark, and, upon shifting slightly, also realized that they were incredibly sore.

“Ow,” he muttered dryly, and immediately, four (almost, mostly, kind of) familiar faces were moving into his field of vision.

“Guys, he’s awake!” Mikey gasped.

“Oh, thank god,” Raph sighed.

“How you feeling, Dee?” April prodded gently, her brows pinched together with worry.

“Nasty,” he mumbled, beginning to sit up. “But it’s not that bad. Just sore.” It was worse with the movement, however, and he winced slightly. Ugh, whatever position he had been sleeping in had not helped. He realized vaguely that he was no longer wearing his hoodie or his backpack, and he wondered if his family had removed it or if it had been taken from him. 

“Whoa, hey, slow down, dude,” Leo scolded. “I’m, like, 80% sure you’ve got a concussion or something, and your back looks gross, so chill.”

“Oh, good, Leo isn’t falling anymore,” Donnie deadpanned, leaning back slightly and rolling his shoulders a bit. Ow. He kept doing it anyway. “How long was I out? What the hell happened? And where are we?”

“Not that long. You’ve kinda been in-and-out for the past, like… I dunno. Half hour,” Leo explained.

“Please don’t pass out again!” Mikey added.

“But, uhhh, I think we’re in a literal dungeon?” Leo added, looking around thoughtfully.

“We’ve been jailed? Oh joy,” Donnie sighed. “This is no fair. If I’m going to be thrown in prison, it should be for my scientific advancements…”

“Donnie, that’s not something you’re supposed to hope for--” Raph hissed.

“Did we get our asses kicked?”

“Okay, well, look at the bright side,” Leo said instead of answering. “You gave, like, at least three of the guys on the other side concussions, too! And they probably look just as fucked up as you do right now!”

A loss, then.

“Let me see.”

“See what? Your back?” April raised a brow. “I dunno if that’s a good--”

“It’s my back,” Donnie defended. “Let me see.”

April sighed deeply, rolling her eyes. “Okay, fine. Hang on, I’ll take a picture…”

Donnie shifted a bit to allow room for her to photograph, frowning to himself. He was quietly surprised that their phones hadn’t been confiscated when they got thrown in here, but he was sort of willing to bet that they wouldn’t have any service down here, wherever they were. He’d have to check later.

“Okay, here. See?”

He did see.

He did not like it. 

There were no lacerations or mangled bones or anything-- the injury really wasn’t that bad, all things considered, just horrendously bruised. That wasn’t really what bothered him. If someone showed him a picture of his own shoulders looking like that, all discolored and black and blue, it really wouldn’t be an issue. But they weren’t shoulders. Instead there was this plane of a vaguely leathery, flesh-like surface, gently bumped and freckled olive green-- not quite skin, but not exactly carapace like his brothers now had, either, just something in between, all dotted with little markings. His spine was clearly outlined, and, in this moment, darkened and mottled with bruising.

“Right. Thank you,” he said quickly, looking to the side and scowling. April sighed a bit, almost visibly resisted the urge to say ‘I told you so,’ and pocketed her phone again, settling back down beside him.

“You gotta be more careful, Don! You coulda been seriously hurt!” Raph pressed.

“Oh, I’m sorry!” Donnie scoffed, rolling his eyes. “In the future, I’ll simply allow enemies to curbstomp our little brother! Silly me!”

“I would have been fine! You don’t have to protect me!” Mikey immediately protested.

“Look, hermano, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but apparently, literally all the rest of us have straight-up built-in body armor,” Leonardo said with an accusing gesture. “You don’t!”

Donnie bristled a bit, hunching his shoulders. Right. Of course.

Of course it would work this way.

Turtles. They were, apparently, literal fucking turtles, of all goddamn things, and so of course he would be the only one who didn’t have the signature feature that turtles usually had in the form of a hard shell. Of course he would be different and vulnerable. Why was he surprised? When didn’t things work out this way? Story of his goddamn life!

And it made sense, too! Wasn’t he the only one out of all of them who had ever been, like, actually injured? He had watched Mikey fall down three flights of cement stairs one time and pop up at the bottom with a thumbs up. Raph was basically an immovable object. And how many times had Leo wiped out on his skateboard with no consequences? Or, perhaps more pointedly-- how many times had Leo literally kicked his ass in martial arts tournaments? Admittedly, Donnie was still, generally speaking, hardier than the average high-schooler, but…

He was still the only one in the family to have ever broken a bone. The one who fell ill the most frequently. He was the only one who had ever cried and thrown up because the hems of his pants got wet and nasty, for god’s sake --

He vaguely remembered that Draxum guy from earlier, their so-called creator, claiming that they were experiments. He wondered what exactly his intention was, and if he would meet expectations if evaluated or if he would objectively be classed as a failure. Clearly there was a gap between himself and his siblings.

“Look, it’s fine, Don. We just don’t want you to get hurt,” Raph said, resting a hand on his uninjured shoulder. “Just… let us take the heavy hits, okay? That’s all.” 

“Fine,” Donnie muttered.

Donatello whined softly, burrowing his way further into his Dad’s arms, hanging onto fistfuls of his shirt. Yoshi sighed, idly running his hand up and down the child’s spine. 

“I know, Purple,” he hummed, adjusting his grip on the other slightly, rearranging the blankets they were all but nested in. “The medicine will start working soon.”

The child sniffled miserably, peeking up just enough to give their father a rueful look. “You lied,” he accused, and Yoshi couldn’t resist a tiny laugh at the amount of rage his six-year-old could manage to put into his eyes. 

“When did I lie?”

“You said that if I took the medicine I would feel better. And it was disgusting. And I still feel bad,” he whimpered petulantly, burying his face into his dad’s shirt once more, and Yoshi chuckled softly, stroking his shoulders.

“That was ten minutes ago, Purple. It takes a little bit longer than that.”

“That’s stupid.”

“Maybe a little.”

“I’m gonna invent better medicine that works right away.”

“I’m sure you could.”

Purple always got this way whenever he managed to pick up any sort of bug from their various classes or after-school activities. Given how many children he had, how busy they were, and the fact that he, too, worked with a bunch of germy kids, they were, quite frankly, blessed with how rarely they were brought to their knees by some virus or another. Yoshi had always attributed this to the whole ‘mutant super soldier’ thing, and considered himself lucky that he hardly ever had to deal with nastier things like strep throat or bronchitis. Thank god. He didn’t think his heart could take it, quite frankly. But there was still the occasional cold, flu, or stomach bug, and almost invariably, it was either himself or Donatello who ended up bringing it home when they did.

And every time, Purple would be so damn pathetic about it.

Yoshi did feel bad for him, really, each and every time, because he knew that his kid didn’t feel well and wasn’t able to do all the things he usually did, and that was distressing to him, but oh my lord, was he dramatic. He’d always whimper and whine and carry on like he was dying, even if he just had a cough and a small fever, clinging to his dad and refusing to walk anywhere. Now, snotty, hacking children were not exactly Yoshi’s favorite things to snuggle up with, but he would admit that, as he so rarely received any physical affection from his purplest child on a day-to-day basis, it was a little nice to have him so clingy now. Especially given that when he was ill, Donnie was much more inclined to lay around and watch Lou Jitsu movies rather than science and math documentaries, or, even worse, partake in activities such as attempting to rewire the house, as he was apt to do. This was by far Yoshi’s preference. And though he did wish Donnie could enjoy it properly, he wouldn’t sit here and pretend like he didn’t enjoy spending the day curled up in his bed with his child in his lap watching movies together (now that he had been assured by their pediatrician that it was just a bug…) Even if he was sure he was going to get sick, too. 

It should be noted however, that even in his feverish, clingy state, Donnie was still quite particular about exactly what touch was and was not okay, which was evidenced by him literally hissing at his twin brother when he snuck into the room and attempted to join the pair on the bed.

“Use your words, Purple One,” Yoshi hummed, even as he redirected Leonardo to the foot of his bed, giving the two children a wide berth. Donnie only grumbled in response, but given the fact that he was sick, Yoshi let it slide this time. He couldn’t help but always feeling so… sorry for Donnie like this. It always scared him a bit when he got sick, even once he was sure it was only something minor. Just another reason he relished being able to bundle him up and hold him close. “I don’t think Purple wants to be touched by anyone else right now, Blue.”

“When’s he gonna be done being sick?” Leo sighed loudly, flopping down over his father’s legs. “I’m bored. Mikey and Raph don’t play right.” 

“Since when? You love playing with Mikey and Raph.”

“Yeah, but I wanna play Hot Wheelz and Donnie is the best at that game!” He complained. “Mikey and Raph are playing ‘Ninja Horse Tea Party Orphanage’ and I don’t wanna play that!”

That did sound like the type of game those two would play.

“If you give him a day or two, I’m sure he will be ready to play Hot Wheelz then.” 

“But that’s so LONNGGG!” Leo groaned loudly, sulking. “Can’t you make him better faster?”

“No, Donatello has not invented the medicine that works right away yet. It’s on his to-do list,” Yoshi explained calmly, squeezing the purple child just the tiniest bit. 

“Can I invent it, then?”

“I’m sure you could try,” Yoshi said with a shrug. 

“I want him to get better. And not be sick,” Leo explained, just in case it wasn’t clear.

“That’s very nice, Blue.”

“I bet I could find out a way to fix him.”

“Oh? Are you going to be a doctor, then?”

Leo wrinkled his brow, scrunching up his mouth and considering this for a moment before he shook his head. “No. I’m gonna be an actor. Or a ninja. Or a magician. One of those.”

“Ah. Well, you know what would probably be helpful right now?”

“What?” Leo immediately questioned, his eyes lighting up slightly.

“If you got your brothers to help you draw some get-well cards for Purple. I bet Mikey would be excited to help you if you asked.”

Leo latched onto the new ‘task’ right away, over the moon to do something to be helpful for his brothers, like he always was. It was one of the easiest ways to distract him. “Okay!” He replied, jumping back down off the bed, scampering off to go and find his remaining siblings.

He was almost gone, in fact, when Yoshi sneezed.

Leo stopped short, whipping back around and gasping loudly, pointing an accusing finger.

“YOU SNEEZED!”

“I don’t know what you are talking about.”

“YOU DID! I HEARD YOU!” He shrieked, taking off down the hall. “Guys! GUYS! Dad sneezed! I heard him!”

“Dad sneezed!?”

“Code Green! This is a CODE GREEN!”

Yoshi sighed softly, his head flopping back down against the pillow. Leo came skidding back into the room a moment later, his eyes wide.

“DAD! Can we go to April’s house!?”

“What?” He scoffed. “No! April and her parents are not even home!”

“Yeah but we gotta QUARANTINE!”

“It was just one sneeze--”

“LEO! Leo, you gotta disinfect! I found Donnie’s hand sanitizer!”

“Hey,” Donnie picked up his head to whine.

This always happened.

“Donnie, you have to get better quick so you can take field notes! We need your research, okay!? You’re the only one who can spell ‘pathology!!!’”

Donnie mumbled in reply, laying his head back down, but gave a tiny thumb’s up before Leo went sprinting back out the room to re-join his healthy (for now) brothers. His other three boys never brought home sickness. But they always caught it when it came from him.

Well, at least they were not bored anymore.

April was having a bit of trouble keeping track of time now that they were in prison. 

She didn’t think they had actually been here that long, though she wasn’t exactly sure. She had long ago shut off her phone to conserve battery once they realized that they may be a while. Maybe 24 hours?... It was just that at first, when they still weren’t sure if Donnie was going to be okay or not, everything seemed to happen so fast. And now that they were all just cooped up here with nothing to do… everything happened so slow.

They had already formulated and executed multiple escape plans now, to no avail. They had attempted to teleport to freedom with the help of the yellow yokai, who April had recently begun referring to as “Mayhem,” but were sorely disappointed to find that the prison was teleport-proof. Leo had tried unsuccessfully to talk their way out. Raph made an effort to physically break them out, attempting to smash the bars that held them, but this too resulted in failure.

The only thing that really clued her into the passage of time was her and her brothers’ internal clocks. Donnie had gone down first, though his head injury may have had something to do with that. Mikey had followed shortly after, curling up with Raph’s flannel tucked under his head as a makeshift pillow, and then the oldest brother, too, eventually succumbed to sleep, until she and Leo were all that remained.

“Okay,” she whispered, keeping her voice low, careful not to wake anyone else up. “I’ll admit it. You were right.”