Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Chapter 1:

Mona Lisa followed the familiar path from her hideout to the turtles’ lair. They’d offered to let her stay with them but the thought of living attempting to live in close quarters with four teenage guys and their dad was not appealing. It was nice to visit, but she’d go nuts if she had to stay there all the time. A girl needed her space after all.

Though she had to admit it could get a little lonely at times. Not that her place wasn’t nice. Being the remnants of an early 20th century subway station, it was pretty classy, all brick with fancy stonework. She loved it.

And the guys had gone all out to furnish it for her, finding her even nicer pieces than they had in their own home. She’d worked with Donatello to get heat and electricity up and running, driving away the dampness and drafts and illuminating the exquisite mosaic work on the ceiling. It really was wonderful, especially with all the appliances Donatello had fixed up for her.

But she’d always shared a place with someone before, first her family and then her friend, Taylor, throughout college. April was nice, albeit very focused on her career, but she really did miss having Taylor around for some serious girl talk. Especially now that she had so much to say.

There was one item in particular she wished that she could get her almost-sister’s advice on. Or even her mother’s. But she couldn’t face them like this. Sure the turtles were kind of crime-fighting celebrities, but they didn’t actually have that many real, human friends. It was one thing to cheer mutants on from a distance, but feelings could become more complicated and unclear up close and in person. What would her family and friends think of her now? She just couldn’t risk it. No matter how badly she missed them.

But as lonely as her home was, she wasn’t truly alone.

“Hey guys.” She called out as she stepped through the round entryway.

Master Splinter looked up from his recliner in front of the television, some Japanese soap opera playing across the screen, and gave her a nod of acknowledgement.

Beyond him, she could see Leonardo in the large open space, running through a kata. He smiled at the sight of her. “Care to practice?”

She grinned in return, pleased with how her martial arts training was coming along. A girl had to know how to defend herself after all. But she had other plans today. “Not right now.”

He shrugged and resumed his training.

A boom resounded from the lab and she veered from her current path to duck in under the billowing cloud of smoke.

Donatello coughed, waving the thick fumes out of his soot-covered face. “Well that wasn’t supposed to happen.”

“You okay in here?”

Momentarily startled, he juggled a glass beaker before finally managing to get a grip on it and set it back on the table. “Mona Lisa, hi. Interested in jumping in on this experiment. It’s a doozy.”

She laughed. “I can see that.”

Working in Donatello’s lab had certainly been one of the highlights of befriending the turtles, although saving the world from interdimensional criminals might actually have been a safer activity. What could she say? She liked living on the edge. Besides, she’d learned more from her time working with him than from the whole rest of her education put together.

Even so, playing science roulette with Donatello was not why she’d come by today. “Maybe later. Just making sure you didn’t blow yourself up.”

He huffed. “It doesn’t happen that often.”

She laughed and retreated from the lab, making her way towards the kitchen-dining room. Michelangelo popped out of the entryway just as she was about to cross the threshold and she yelped, staggering back.

“Hey dudette.” He flung the pizza dough high into the air, deftly catching it on his fingers as it came back down. “Come to try my latest, totally tubuloso culinary creation? I’m trying Siracha sauce and bleu cheese, topped with sardines and cool ranch Doritos.”

Her stomach turned at the thought, but her brain short circuited as she tried to come up with an out that wouldn’t hurt his feelings.

“Dude, she’s here for the classics.” She let out a relieved breath as the familiar voice of the turtle she’d come to see called out from within the room.

Michelangelo rolled his eyes as he backed up to let her pass. “Whatever. Jellybean and brownie pizza is mondo boring. Delicious but boring.”

Raphael shrugged as he leaned back in his chair at the kitchen table. “Eh, we can’t all be iron-stomached, thrill seekers.”

A wide grin spread unbidden across her face as she took in the sight of him, waiting for her with her recently-discovered, favorite food. She pulled out her chair. “Aww, you shouldn’t have.”

He grinned. “I know, but it was this or training with Leonardo. As much as I would have loved to work out until my muscles bled, I made the sacrifice and decided to hang out with you. You’re welcome to be vocal and generous with your praises.”

She laughed heartily as she grabbed herself a slice of pizza, enjoying the warm feeling that suffused her being whenever she was near him. While she loved spending time with all the turtles, even cooking with Michelangelo, though that was more damage control than anything else, Raphael was by far her favorite companion.

Funny, confident and cavalier, he seemed to get her in a way that no one else ever had and she still had butterflies around him even after the touch of hero worship from their first encounter had worn off. It didn’t hurt that he was the cutest of his brothers, in her humble opinion. Knowing him, certainly brightened up her new and lonely existence, such as it was.

With a sigh, she lowered her half eaten slice of pizza, willing away the heavy thoughts that she didn’t want intruding on her time with Raphael.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” She snapped out of her reverie and realized that he was looking at her in concern, uncharacteristically serious. A hint of mischief returned to his features. “If the pizza isn’t perfect, I have no problem speaking with the chef.” He spun his sais as his eyes sparkled with mirth.

“Dude, my pizza is always perfect, although you’re totally welcome to make your own next time.” Michelangelo called over from the kitchen.

She raised her hand…her green, scaly, webbed, four-fingered lizard hand, to forestall the banter, but caught herself looking at it with a sigh. She wished she could be pretty again. Shaking off the melancholy, she pushed forward with her original intention.

“Chill. I’m fine. Just thinking about life…before. That’s all. I’m good though. Can anyone hook a girl up with some soda?”

Raphael moved with ninja-grace to the fridge door and tossed her a can of root beer. As she cracked it open and washed down her first few bites of pizza, she missed the thoughtful look on Raphael’s face.

“Hey Donatello…whoa!” Raphael ducked as springs and cogs ricocheted around the lab. “Dude, you need to come with warning signs.”

Donatello looked up sheepishly from a sprawling mess of parts. “Sorry. I think I had the oscillation set too high.”

“You know that no one understands a word your saying, right?”

Donatello rolled his eyes at the familiar jibe. “Mona Lisa does, so at least I can content myself with one kindred spirit.”

The mention took some of the wind out of Raphael’s sails and he was more subdued as he fully entered the lab, carefully avoiding stepping on anything sharp. They’d all learned long ago, that Donatello’s lab bred science caltrops.

“About Mona Lisa…did she seem kind of down to you today?”

Donatello stopped and thought for a moment. “No, not really. Of course, I was kind of distracted when she popped in.”

Raphael snorted. “You’re always distracted.”

In science-mode, Donatello wouldn’t notice a stampede of giant sewer rats through the lair. But that’s just who Donatello was and as much as it drove him, and probably everyone else, crazy sometimes, he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Donatello started gathering scattered parts. “Why do you ask?”

“Because she was.”

Donatello looked up, surprised, but not questioning him. It had long since been generally accepted that he was the authority when it came to anything Mona Lisa related. “What do you think’s the matter?”

He leaned against the wall and looked away, not liking what he was going to say, but certain beyond any shadow of a doubt that he was right. “I’m pretty sure she misses being human.”

Donatello blinked. “Really? She never said.”

Raphael shook his head. “Yeah, because that wouldn’t sound rude to us at all. Glad to hear you think she’s so tactless.”

Donatello frowned. “That’s not what I meant. But she’ll be ok, right?”

Raphael’s jaw clenched as he forced the next words out. “If she wants to be human again, she has the right. Can you do it?”

He knew this would cost him whatever slim chance he might have had with her, but her happiness was worth it. He wouldn’t keep her locked down in the sewers for the rest of her life for his sake.

“Well, her mutation was really different from ours, but I detailed some notes on her story of how it happened and have produced several theories, confirmed with samples I collected from her.”

Raphael cocked his head at Donatello’s words. “Samples? Why would you…you know what, I really don’t want to know. Can you do it?”

Donatello nodded emphatically. “Yes…probably.”

“And it’s not going to end like the time you reversed Master Splinter’s mutation?”
Donatello shook his head. “No…maybe.”

He sighed. His heart heavy. “Good. Do it then.”

Shredder flinched away in disgust as Krang eagerly rubbed his tentacles together in manic glee as he proudly displayed the blueprints across the Technodrome’s massive screen. “The new weapons array will be glorious. With it, I will be completely unstoppable.”

Shredder’s eyes narrowed. “We.”

Krang spared a glance at him. “What?”

“You mean we will be completely unstoppable.”

Krang shuddered inside his hulking exo-suit. “Yes…we.”

Shredder didn’t actually believe that but, as long as their interests were mutually aligned, he would pretend to.

“How long before the construction-bots finish it?” With this he could finally complete his conquest of Earth. He could almost taste the victory as his enemies were crushed beneath his heel and all humanity bowed before him. Krang rushing off to reconquer Dimension X would be an added bonus. Never having to hear that condescending voice, whose speech always sounded like a blend of burping vomit and drowning, would be a dream come true.

“Two weeks, assuming there are no complications.”

Shredder rubbed his palms together eagerly. “Excellent.”

“There is one potential hindrance.”

He turned to glare at the squishy, pink blob, ruining his visions of world domination. “What?”

“The Technodrome’s current energy resources are insufficient to power my genius design. This pitiful planet is incapable of providing even the most basic fuel that would have been available in Dimension X.”

Shredder could feel his teeth grinding as he resisted the urge to thrust his armored fist into the exo-suit’s chest cavity and make scrambled Krang. Instead, he applied his formidable mind to the problem at hand, looking over the blue prints and considering the energy requirements.

Yes. With the right materials, he could do it. Liquid hydrogen combustion working in synergy with nuclear fission would suffice. Of course, he’d need a lot of hydrogen and uranium to make this work, along with materials to build appropriated containment and extraction units. But it could be done. He could do it.

“Just worry about finishing the weapons array, Krang. I’ll handle the power deficiencies.”

Krang crossed his tentacles. “You’d better.”

Stuffing down, once again, the desire to dice his colleague, he turned on his heel and stalked out. Once this was done, the Earth would be his and he’d never have to see that obnoxious glob of flesh ever again.

Chapter Text

Chapter 2:

Mona wrapped the trench coat more tightly around her and tugged her fedora down further over her face. What had possessed her to agree to this? It was just a pizza run. Her help wasn’t needed topside. Except Raphael had asked and she had been unable to bring herself to say no. Especially since it was just him and her.

But being self-conscious was kind of ruining the mood. That and the creepy, human mask Raphael was wearing. Had April found the set in a Halloween shop? Because, speaking as one who had once been human, that was not what human’s looked like. No way would she be caught dead in one. She wanted to look less disturbing, not more.

Tapping her foot impatiently, she leaned against the wall, trying to keep her tail tucked up in her coat. It was getting uncomfortable. What was taking so long?

The little bell jingled as the door opened and Raphael staggered out under the weight of a towering stack of pizza boxes which he was struggling to keep balanced. If they weren’t careful, he’d be mistaken for a street performer, though she wouldn’t be averse to donations if anyone was willing to pay for the spectacle.

“You want a little help?”

He wobbled again as the stack almost toppled. “No. What would make you think that?”

Snickering at his sarcasm, she responded in kind. “No reason. Well, if you’re good, I’ll just…”

“Aaaghh!” He almost stepped into the street, rebalancing the stack. “Ok, you got me. I need help. Lots and lots of help. Help please.”

She laughed and steadied him, removing enough of the stack that she could see his face. Or his creepy costume mask. As soon as they were below ground, that was coming off.

“Whew. Next time if Michelangelo wants a sample of every topping on offer, he can come help carry it. Or we can borrow April’s news van. Channel 6’s insurance covers pizza damage right?”

She rolled her eyes, but couldn’t say that she entirely disagreed with him.

They were almost to the nearest manhole when an alarm sounded nearby. Darting into the closest alley, she set her stack down atop a dumpster. “Looks like your brothers are getting cold pizza.”

She turned, experiencing a shiver of delight as he yanked off the mask and hat and tossed aside his coat.

With a smirk, he reached into the box and stuffed a slice of pizza in his mouth, swallowing it with exaggerated satisfaction. “Yup, tough luck for them.”

Stripping out of her disguise, she followed him out of the alley and towards the alarm. It probably would have been silent, if the source hadn’t been a petroleum refinery. Someone must have triggered a safety alarm, intended to warn the neighborhood to clear the vicinity. Fantastic.

“Remind me again, why we’re buying pies from a parlor in the industrial district.”

Raphael laughed as he cupped his hands to help her jump the chain link fence. “Best prices in town.”

Balancing atop the fence, she reached down to grab his hand and pull him up. “Because their product is coated in chemical residue?”

He shrugged and hopped down from the top of the fence. “Adds flavor.”

Shaking her head, she followed.

They’d almost made it to the main doors when Rocksteady and Bebop burst out of them, flanked by several robotic, Foot soldiers, carrying large metal canisters, that reminded her of oversized scuba tanks.

Rocksteady caught sight of them first. “It’s the toitles.”

Bebop stepped up beside him. “You want we should crush them?”

Rocksteady nodded as he cracked his knuckles. “Yeah, we can deliver the shells to the boss, like presents.”

Bebop frowned. “But that one doesn’t have a shell.”

Rocksteady shrugged. “Then we bring her tail.”

Bebop grinned. “Ooh. Good call.”

She gave Raphael a nod and ran in towards them, taking Bebop while he went for Rocksteady, the tank-wielding Footbots backing out of the fight.

Bebop ripped the broken remnants of the door he’d just come through off its hinges and took a swing at her but she turned her run into a slide, ducking under his wide, side-swipe with the it and breezing between his legs, ramming her heel into the obvious, unguarded target as she did so. With a strangled gasp, he dropped the door and doubled over, falling to his knees. No matter how solid they were, they still had weak spots.

Grinning as she rolled to her feet, not a hint of road rash on her skin from her slide across the pavement, she was grateful for her scaly armor. And for her tail.

With a spin she whipped it around, taking his feet out from under him. Bebop landed on his back with a resounding boom and curled into fetal position. Lizard lady, one. Shredder minions, zero.

She turned back to check on Raphael and saw him balanced in crouch atop a six-foot-tall, thick, metal pole, one of several, seemingly designed to stop reckless drivers from barreling into the refinery. The barbs of Raphael’s taunts struck true and Rocksteady charged him, putting his horn through the post as Raphael gracefully flipped off of it, landing behind him.

She followed his gaze up to the payload above, held aloft by a large crane. It was so perfectly positioned that it was just asking to be a part of the battle. Raphael dashed over to the crane, tugging on the release lever inside the cab. “Oops.”

The net of large crates dropped in a heap of wooden splinters and shards, right on Rocksteady. He groaned but the pile didn’t shift, indicating that he was as out of the battle as Bebop.

As Raphael ran towards the Footbots, she saw the chemical label on the tanks and gasped. “Wait!”

Raphael skidded to a halt, eyeing her questioningly. “Those tanks are full of hydrogen.”

He blinked. “And that means…?”

“Don’t break the tanks. Even a little spark and boom. This is not the place you want things to go boom.”

His eyes widened in understanding. “Lovely. One wrong move and I’m turtle flambé.”

She was caught up with him now, as the Footbots tried circling around back towards the tunneler.

“Just don’t drop them.”

“What?”

His head snapped towards her, but she was already gone. Using everything she’d learned since meeting the turtles, she put all her mutant strength and agility to the test, plowing into the crowd of Footbots, counting on Raphael to catch the tanks as each was launched airborne. Up. Under. Kick. Tail whip. Punch. One by one they fell.

As the last one dropped, she turned back to Raphael, breathing heavily as he carefully set the last tank down in the cluster he’d been making. It kind of looked like pins in the most extreme game of bowling ever.

He flashed her a grin that set her stomach fluttering. “Caught ‘em all. Worst carnival game ever. Do I get to picked my stuffed prize now?”

She laughed, feeling bold in the wake of her victory, and gave him a peck on the cheek, enjoying the way his cheeks blushed to match his mask. “Sorry. That’s all I have to give.”

Rubbing his cheek, he cleared his throat. “Eh, it’ll do.”

He surveyed the mess of fallen enemies. “Ready to send this lot back to the Shredder with only excuses?”

She shook her head. “I’ll leave that to you.”

He rolled his eyes. “Gee, thanks.”

“I need to check on that alarm to make sure they didn’t do something stupid.”

He laughed. “The wonder twins not doing something stupid? What reality are you living in, lady?”

She sighed, trying and failing to hide her amusement. “Fine. I need to go fix the stupid thing or things they’ve done.”

Raphael grabbed Bebop’s ankles and started dragging him toward the tunneler. “Well if you finish with that, I wouldn’t say no to a little help with heavy lifting.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

She turned and stepped into the refinery, quickly getting a sense of the layout. Fifteen minutes later, she’d located the control room and mitigated the damage done by the Shredder’s goons, saving the neighborhood from what would have otherwise been a very newsworthy explosion. Sorry April.

By the time she got back out, the goons and tunneler were gone and Raphael was examining a scrap of paper.

“What’s that?”

He looked up and smiled. “Late for the party, I see.”

The corner of her mouth quirked up in a smile. “You’re a big, strong turtle. I figured you had it covered.”

She plucked the paper from his grasp, scanning the column of bullet-pointed items.

“The Shredder’s shopping list?” He suggested.

She frowned. Some of the things were very dangerous, others completely innocuous. But she couldn’t see the whole that they made when put together. “What does he want with all this?”

Raphael shrugged. “Don’t sweat it. That’s what Donatello’s for.”

She handed the paper back to him and he tucked it into his belt. “We’d better get back before they send out a search party.”

He nodded thoughtfully as he tagged along after her. “Uh, Mona Lisa?”

“Yes.” She answered as she scaled the fence.

“I was wondering…have you ever thought about, you know…being human again?”

So he had noticed. Without his armor of sarcasm, he seemed so vulnerable that all thoughts of deflecting the question with a joke, fled her mind. He deserved honesty anyway.

“Yeah, I have. I do. A lot. I miss my family. My friends. My life.” Watching his expression fall, she rushed to correct herself. “But I have you guys now and you’re great, so it’s not all bad. I wouldn’t give up knowing you for anything.”

He managed a smile that reached his eyes. “Even Michelangelo.”

She grinned. “Even Michelangelo, although he’s welcome to stop trying out his culinary experiments on me at any time.”

Her smile dropped. “It doesn’t matter anyway. This is my life now and I need to accept it. Don’t worry. I’ll be ok. I’m just a little homesick.” She turned away as she spoke, so he wouldn’t see the lie in her eyes. “Come on. Let’s get these pizzas home.”

Raphael knew that he was unusually quiet on the way back and that it was worrying Mona Lisa, but he couldn’t help it. Suspecting was one thing. Confirming those suspicions was another. She wanted to go home. Back to her real life. And why wouldn’t she? It was probably a million times better than squatting in the sewers. He couldn’t ask her to stay. And he wouldn’t. She deserved better than he could give, though the thought of her leaving left him hollow inside. This wasn’t about him.

Leading the way into the lair, he dropped his stack of pizzas on the table with Mona Lisa not far behind.

“Take long much?” Michelangelo, the first to appear at the scent of pizza, peeked into the top box. “Dude, you are the worst pizza delivery service ever.”

Raphael snorted. “Don’t like it. Don’t eat it.”

Michelangelo pulled a cold, congealed slice from the top box. “Whoa, whoa, whoa, no need to get extreme. I never said that.” He stuffed the pizza into his wide mouth.

Raph shook his head, before returning his attention to Mona Lisa, who looked as pensive as she had over the last week or two. “Hey, I’ve got a surprise for you.”

Her eyes lit up at his words. “A ‘well-earned punch in the face’ kind of surprise, or an actual good one.”

Unable to help smiling despite the circumstance, he realized how badly he was going to miss this. But she was meant to be human. To have a real life.

“I like a good face-punch as much as the next guy, but I guess I’ll settle for an actual good surprise this time.”

Stuffing down his trepidation, he took her hand, not knowing if he’d ever have another chance to touch her again. Her delicate fingers curled around his as he led her to Donatello’s lab.

Donatello looked up from his desk as they entered, wearing headgear that magnified his eyes by a factor of ten. Raphael flinched away. “I did not need to see that. Take that off before you give us nightmares.”

Mona Lisa laughed. “What? I think it’s kind of becoming.”

He snorted. “Becoming the stuff that will haunt my dreams.”

As usual, Donatello ignored their banter as he slipped off the apparatus. “I take it that the pizzas here. I promise I’ll get something to eat in a minute. I just need to finish…”

Mona Lisa fished the note out of his belt and he froze as her hands grazed his waist, sending a cascade of pleasant tingles through him. Don’t think about it. You’ll only make it worse when she’s gone.

“We found this on a Shredder goon-squad. Theories?”

Donatello’s eyes lit up as he scanned the paper, she handed him. “Wow, imagine all that could be built with this.”

“You mean all the Shredder could build with it?” She replied archly and his enthusiasm dimmed.

“There are some unpleasant possibilities…”

“Which you will no doubt enumerate for us in painfully-graphic detail. Later.” Raphael cut in before his surprise could be co-opted by a trip down the science rabbit hole.

Donatello blinked at him in confusion. “Uh, I guess so…”

Raphael sighed, hearing Leonardo and Michelangelo wander into the lab to find out what was up. “Don’t you have something else to show Mona Lisa?” Donatello stared blankly at him for a moment, until he jerked his head towards the chemical table.

Understanding flooded his brother’s expression and he banged his palm against his forehead. “Oh, right. Sorry, I completely forgot.”

Raphael shook his head. “Only you, Donatello.”

Mona Lisa followed them both over to the long table containing an elaborate, glass chemistry set up. Michelangelo and Leonardo hung back with a caution borne of well-earned experience.

With a flourish Donatello presented Mona Lisa with a glass vial, filled to its corked top with shimmery, red liquid.

She eyed it curiously. “Dare I ask?”

Donatello smiled broadly. “It’s retromutagen, specific to your mutation. Drink it up and you’ll be human again.”

Her eyes widened in disbelief as she reverently took the vial from his brother’s hands. As her amazement transformed into joy, he felt a flush of happiness on her behalf, even as part of him felt like it was dying. She deserved a life in the sun.

“Will it work?”

Donatello nodded. “Yes…maybe.”

“If it does, you’ll still visit us right?” Her eyes twinkled at Michelangelo’s innocent question.

“Of course. Every chance I get. You guys are the best.”

Leonardo nodded. “And you’ll have to continue your training.”

She smiled. “I wouldn’t miss it.”

With a deep breath, she uncorked the vial and knocked the whole thing back in one gulp. For a moment nothing happened and Raphael felt a mix of sorrow and relief.

Then the vial slipped from her loose fingers and she wobbled unsteadily on her feet. Seeming to glow as a whitish-blue light emanated from her body, enveloping her like a blanket. Her eyes closed as all the tension slipped away from her.

Raphael watched in fascination as her face reshaped and the scales melted away, feeling a pang of intense loss at their absence even as he marveled in her human beauty. She was and would always be perfect in any form she took.

Almost too late, he realized what was happening as her tail shrunk away and her shoulders became bare skin. Snatching a white drop cloth off the nearest contraption, he rushed forward, wrapping her up in it.

“Hey…oh.” Donatello started to reprimand him, but stopped as the glow faded, leaving Mona Lisa’s bare arms and legs sticking out of the cloth that he’d just managed to get around her body in time. Wearing only a belt and neckerchief worked great for a lizard mutant, but not so much for a human woman. Mona Lisa didn’t seem to mind as she stared at her five-fingered human hand in astonishment.

It was time for her to go home, where she belonged. His heart clenched but he ignored it, instead turning to Leonardo. “Think April’s got a spare set of clothes she can borrow? This might not be the right look for the subway.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 3:

Mona Lisa shifted uncomfortably on the subway, the trip she’d purchased with money borrowed from April. Part of it was probably habit. The impulse to avoid being so exposed. So visible. The rest was probably her borrowed clothing.

She was relatively certain that the bright yellow jumpsuit, paired with white boots did not flatter her complexion at all. That and she and April were simply different heights and shapes. The whole ensemble fit her completely wrong. She felt like a bag lady. But in true New Yorker fashion, nobody batted an eye. She might as well have been invisible. The sensation was too strange.

Normally she’d be paranoid about someone catching sight of her, bundled up and sticking to the shadows. But now that she could walk out in the open, she moved through society like a ghost.

Shaking her head, to clear her thoughts, she focused on her destination. It was the next exit. Her heart picked up. She hadn’t been in the Bronx since the last time she’d been human, afraid that she might run into the family she’d been too afraid to see. Coming home again felt surreal. Like a dream.

The doors opened and she staggered out, jostled and shoved by an indifferent crowd. Had she been accustomed to this once? Was this what she’d been like before? She couldn’t really remember. It was hard to compare the person she was now with who she’d been. Too much had happened to her in the interim.

A few blocks later, she was standing on the stoop of her parent’s apartment building, willing herself to ring the bell. Instead, she simply stared at the button beside the label, reading ‘Arthur and Madison McKinley,’ her hand refusing to move. She hadn’t spoken to anyone in almost a year. What would they think? What would she tell them? Longing warred with fear.

Then an old man with a paper bag full of groceries, struggled up the stoop and unlocked the door. She helpfully held it open for him. He gave her a grateful nod and slipped into the building. Taking a deep breath, she followed.

Four flights of stairs and a long hallway brought her to her parent’s door. She stared at it for a moment and considered walking away. But that would be a waste of the gift she’d been given. She’d wanted this. Longed for this. And it wasn’t in her nature to buckle under the demands of fear.

Reclaiming some of her innate boldness, she knocked on the door and waited. A minute or so later, it opened and her mother stood before her, with brown hair and eyes mirroring her own, an older version of herself.

“Hi, mom.”

Her mother’s jaw fell open, the blood draining from her face. She barely had time to catch her mom as her mother’s eyes rolled back in her head and she fainted. Well this was off to a great start.

Mona Lisa sat awkwardly on the living room sitting chair, clutching a mug of tea as she faced off with her family, staring openly at her from their seats on the couch. Her mother and father kept looking at each other, as though to confirm this was really happening and not some sort of a dream.

Her little brother, Monroe, exuded an air of resentment that she couldn’t figure out. She’d always been closest with him before. Why would he be upset that she’d returned?

He must be a junior in high school by now. Though they were only a few years apart, it always felt like more since she’d moved through school so quickly. Skipped grades and placement exams had made her an unusually young grad student. A prodigy, she’d been called. She’d been proud of it before. Now it almost seen laughable. After having known Donatello she felt like the village idiot. Now that was smart.

The awkward silence stretched, no one seeming to know what to say. Until Monroe broke it. “Where were you? What have you been doing? Why didn’t you come home?”

The accusing tone stole her words and she looked to her parents. Her dad cleared his throat. “After that man who kidnapped you was arrested…”

“Captain Filch.” Her mother supplied.

“…when you weren’t found, we thought…”

He trailed off but Monroe finished for him. “We thought you were dead. You let us think you were dead. Did you even think about us at all? What were you doing all this time?”

So that’s why he was mad at her. Honestly, she couldn’t blame him. Were their positions reversed, she’d probably feel the same.

“I’m sorry. I’m here now.”

Monroe slammed his mug down on the coffee table, making their parents jump and stalked out of the room. Her eyes followed him as he disappeared from sight. How was she to fix this rift she’d created? What could she tell him? The turtles’ secrets weren’t hers to compromise and she really didn’t want anyone to know about the creature she’d become.

Her mother gently set her own mug down and carefully pried her undrunk tea from her grasp. “You must be tired after…you must be tired. Come.”

Her mom took her hand and pulled her up, leaving her dazed father to stare off into space on the couch. Before she knew it, she was standing in front of her childhood bedroom.

“We kept everything just the way it was…” Her mother trailed off before abruptly reaching out and embracing her.

Mona Lisa slowly wrapped her arms around her mother who now sobbed into her shoulder.

“I’m so glad you’re not…you’re not…I’m glad. My miracle.”

Her mom spoke through sobbing gasps as she just held her, not knowing what to do or say. She’d been so caught up in her own predicament, that she hadn’t even thought about what they might have gone through in her absence. The guilt gnawed at her.

“It’s ok, mom. I’m home.”

With a sniff her mother released her, struggling to regain her composure. “Yes, you are. Why don’t you get some rest, honey? I’ll make spaghetti for dinner.”

Mona Lisa nodded, watching her mom turn and go, still wiping away stray tears. With a sigh, she twisted the knob and entered her room. No joke. It was exactly the same. Not even a layer of dust. It could have been yesterday that she’d last seen it.

Stripping out of April’s ill-fitting clothing, she made a beeline for her closet. Several moments later, she stood in front of her vanity mirror, examining her handiwork. She wore a strappy, pale-pink sundress with matching, low-heeled shoes. Gold bracelets jangled from each wrist, pairing the simple gold necklace that encircled her throat and the small golden drop earrings, dangling from each earlobe.

Her hair was pulled back into a thick pony tail, held in place with a wide, pink band and her lips and nails were painted to match. Yes, this was much more her style. This was the her she wanted Raphael to see.

Her cheeks burned as she banished the thought. Now was not the time for personal indulgences. She needed to make things right with her family. If only she knew how.

With a sigh, she plopped down on her frilly pink comforter. Too keyed, up to sleep, she just sat and waited for her mother to call her to dinner. Maybe something would come to her if she thought on it long enough.

Leonardo tapped his foot impatiently as he kept looking over Donatello’s shoulder. Donatello turned to frown up at him. “You do know how distracting that is, right?”

Leonardo ignored the question. “Well, have you figured out what this list means? We need to know what the Shredder is planning.”

Donatello sighed. There was no breaking his brother’s focus, once he latched onto a potential threat. “I don’t know. There are so many possible combinations of these materials. It could be any number of things, assuming they aren’t all going towards separate projects. Put together, it could be a bomb, a chemical weapon, a generator to power a city on the moon. I don’t know.”

Leonardo frowned. “When will you know?”

Donatello’s shoulders slumped. Leonardo wasn’t getting it. “Without more information? Not until the Shredder reveals his plan himself.”

Leonardo crossed his arms angrily. “That’s not an option. The world could be at stake.”

Donatello smiled. The world was always at stake. But they never failed to come through. “We’ll just have to wait until they try again. Maybe we can get more data?”

Though what he hoped to learn from Rocksteady and Bebop, he didn’t know. Even if the Shredder let those two lunkheads in on his master plan, it would be like pouring water into a sieve. They wouldn’t retain a drop.

“Dudes we’ve got a mondo problemo.” Michelangelo sauntered in, breaking Leonardo’s interrogation.

But their leader switched gears as naturally as breathing. “Raphael?”

Michelangelo nodded, eyes wide as though he couldn’t believe Leonardo had guessed it. Donatello had to smother a laugh at his brother’s cluelessness.

“I made him a pineapple, gummy bear and jalapeno pizza and he wouldn’t touch it. Do you think he’s sick?”

Leonardo shook his head. “No. He’s feeling sorry for himself. It’s no excuse for missing ninja practice.”

Donatello’s laughter faded away. That wasn’t very fair. “Cut him some slack guys. Granted Michelangelo never stopped eating, but each time Kala returned to Dimension X, it didn’t look like he tasted anything for weeks afterwards. And you’ve done your own share of moping whenever we’ve had a run-in with Lotus Blossom after she ALWAYS returns to her mercenary lifestyle.”

Leonardo rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. “Run-in might a strong way to phrase it.”

Donatello arched an eye ridge at him. “Name one encounter with her that didn’t start with her kicking our shells.”

He couldn’t and Donatello grinned smugly. He’d never say so out loud, but there nothing quite so satisfying as being right.

Leonardo sighed. “Fine, but we will need him at the top of his game to foil the Shredder’s plans. Maybe Master Splinter will know what to do.

Raphael sat at the table, poking at the pizza Michelangelo had placed in front of him. He wasn’t hungry. He should be, but he wasn’t.

It had only been a day and a half. Surely she would at least call when things settled down. Her reunion with her family must be taking up all her time. That was all. She wouldn’t have forgotten them. Him. He hoped.

The chair across from him scraped across the floor and he looked up, surprised to see Master Splinter taking a seat in front of him. The old rat settled comfortably into the chair. “Is there anything you would like to talk about, Raphael?”

He frowned and looked away. “No.”

The silence stretched between them, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. Master Splinter had always had a peaceful aura. Maybe they could just sit and be for a while.

That illusion was upturned when Splinter spoke again, hitting the nail on the head. “She won’t stay away forever. You must be patient my student.”

He swallowed hard, not daring to look into Master Splinter’s face as he voiced the fear that had been nagging him from the start. “What if she doesn’t come back?”

Splinter reached across the table and patted his hand. “Have faith in her. She will return. I did after all.”

Raphael snorted. “Yeah, after you turned back into a rat.”

Well that sounded more bitter than he’d intended. But Master Splinter didn’t flinch or even seem the slightest bit offended.

“Did you think I would not have, had I remained human?”

He winced and turned away from that piercing gaze. “I thought…maybe. Why would you want to come back down here with everything there is up there?”

Splinter smiled kindly. “Because everything that matters to me is down here. After having enjoyed my life among you and your brothers, I found I didn’t fit in up there at all, with or without my human form. My place is and always will be here with my turtles.”

Raphael blinked away tears, surprised by how much he’d needed to hear that. He hadn’t realized how much doubt he’d been harboring. “Yeah?”

Splinter nodded solemnly. “And Mona Lisa is just as much a part of us. Believe in her and give her some time, my student.”

Raphael nodded, feeling lighter than he had in a while. “Yes, Sensei.”

The Shredder pounded his fist against the Technodrome console as Rocksteady and Bebop cowered back from him. Imbeciles! And now those wretched turtles were aware of his plans. They’d be interfering at every turn. His worthless minions couldn’t find subtlety if it sat on them. This would make things impossible.

Unless…

He eyed the contrite mutants thoughtfully. Maybe this could be turned to his advantage. It would necessitate him being his own errand boy, but he would do whatever it took to win.

“You are forgiven.”

Bebop, perked up. “Gee boss, thanks.” He smiled at their mindless sincerity.

Yes, this would work just fine. “In fact, I have a whole new job for you.”

Rocksteady clapped enthusiastically. “Really? Thanks boss. We won’t let you down this time.”

Of course they would. He was counting in it. “Tonight, you will go down to the docks and loot warehouse seventeen. Destroy anything you can’t carry.”

Bebop nodded confidently. “Got it, boss.”

Rocksteady thrust his chest out proudly. “You can count on us.”

Shredder sighed, fanning his cape as he swept out of the room. It was time to prepare his own strike team to come with him and retrieve the real prize.

Chapter Text

Chapter 4:

Mona Lisa exited the bathroom in her robe, hair wrapped in a towel, to almost trip over her mother folding laundry in the hallway. Her jaw clenched involuntarily. Her mother never folded laundry in the hallway.

“Oh hi, honey. How are you today?”

She immediately pasted a smile on her face. “Good. Uh…wouldn’t it be easier to do that in the living room?”

Her mother laughed nervously. “I suppose it would, wouldn’t it?”

She sighed and shook her head. “Here, let me help with that.”

She reached for the heavier basket, experiencing an inkling of annoyance at its weight. It wasn’t as though she couldn’t carry it. She could easily. But it was awkward and took effort. It would have been nothing to her in her mutant form. The reminder of being weak wasn’t helping her mood any.

She headed towards the living room with her mom at her heels, setting the basket down in the hopes of making a quick getaway. The moment she turned, she nearly collided with her dad, kicking herself for not sensing him there. She wasn’t as aware as she used to be either.

“Uh…good morning, dad.”

He smiled and clapped a hand on her shoulders. “Hey Pumpkin, how about some breakfast? I made waffles.”

She could almost feel her eye twitch, but allowed herself to be lead into the kitchen anyway. This had been all fine and dandy the first couple days, welcome even, but now, five days into being home, it was starting to eat at her. Her parents were hovering constantly. Dad had even taken the whole week off work.

After what she’d done to them, she couldn’t really blame them for trying to find a way into her presence every waking moment. They probably felt like she’d disappear again if they took their eyes off of her. But after the relative solitude of the life she’d been living, she felt like she couldn’t breathe. She’d missed them, but this was too much. She’d been loath to go out after first arriving, but if she didn’t escape soon, she might just snap.

After stuffing a couple waffles in her gullet without even tasting them, she rushed off to her room to get dressed. Having a rare moment to herself, she followed the routine with deliberate slowness, stretching out each step as long as she could. She’d just finished readying herself for the day, when a knock sounded at her door.

“Are you ok in there, honey?”

She could feel her eye twitch again. “Yeah, mom. I’m good.”

“Ok, you’ve been in there a while. Do you need anything? I brew some tea? Or how about a bowl of ice cream? I can make whatever you want.”

The sensation of being smothered was back along with a side of guilt for feeling that way. “No, actually I’m still full from breakfast. Thanks though.”

“Is there anything else you need? Let me know what I can get you?”

She took a deep calming breath. It had been like this for five days now. Five days. “No really. I’m fine.”

She could tell her mom was still standing on the other side of the door, not moving away, but unable to come up with another reason for lingering. She needed to get out of here.

“You know what? I think I’ll get some air on the roof for a bit, ok?”

Before her mother could splutter out a protest, she darted out her window and up the fire escape, breathing deep the quiet air at the top of the building.

To her surprise, Monroe was already up there, his homework spread out in front of him as he lay across an old picnic blanket. For moment the present and past seemed to overlap as she could see them years ago in her mind’s eye, studying together up here on the very same blanket.

Her heart clenched as she realized she’d hardly seen any of him this past week. Sure he’d been in school, but aside from meals where he was required to sit with the family, he’d made himself scarce the rest of the time. Even today, Saturday, he’d made a point of avoiding her.

With her parent’s ever-present looming, she hadn’t noticed. It hurt to think that he was still mad. Only the truth stood a chance of bridging the gulf between them, but she couldn’t bring herself to tell it. Not just for her own sake. Her recent past held secrets that weren’t hers to share.

She approached stealthily, a more difficult than usual task in her human form and peeked over his shoulder. Pre-calculus. Didn’t he hate math? Was he really going to spend his weekend working ahead in his homework?

Seeing her shadow spread across his papers, he looked up at her and frowned. “What?”

She curled her feet under her as she sat beside him on the blanket. “Need any help?”

He huffed. “I’m doing fine. Thanks anyway.”

Given that his work was a mix of skipped, partially complete and obviously wrong attempts at the problems, she found that hard to believe.

“Monroe…” She reached out towards his shoulder, but he swatted her hand away, glaring at her.

“I don’t want your help ok. I’ve been doing just fine without you, so you can just go already.”

It was difficult, but she maintained her gaze in the face of his anger. “Please.”

Some of the anger dimmed and he looked away. “Where were you?”

He was offering her a chance to make things right, but she couldn’t take it. Not completely anyway. But she could at least give him something. “Some new friends took me in while I…recovered.”

He glanced back at her curiously. “Recovered from what?”

She involuntarily ran her hand over he now scale-free arm. “I was…changed. Physically. I wasn’t me anymore.”

He frowned. “What does that mean? Why didn’t you let us help?”

Her vision blurred and she looked away. “I was afraid.”

“Of what? Us?”

She nodded. “I was so different. You don’t understand.”

“No, I understand. You didn’t trust us. Didn’t trust me.” He slammed his textbook closed and rapidly gathered up his papers.

“Monroe, wait.”

But he just tromped back to the fire escape. “No, I get it now. Thanks for clearing that up.”

And then he was gone. She’d screwed up again. Looking down, the red and white of the picnic blanket blurred and blended together as her tears slid down her cheeks. She’d only made things worse.

Leonardo veered through traffic, hating driving through such crowded streets. Why’d Bebop and Rocksteady have to start hitting targets in the middle of the day? This was the second one so far after a series of seeming random night robberies in the days before. No matter how many times, they took the duo down, they’d pop right back up again, like weeds.

And they were still no closer to figuring out the Shredder’s plan with all this. Imported antiquities, industrial parts, grocery stores. It didn’t add up. What was the Shredder after?

He risked taking his eyes off the road for a second to glance over at Donatello who was bracing himself in the passenger seat while trying to work his computerized map, getting knocked around with every sharp turn, despite his seatbelt.

“You’re sure they’re raiding the Natural History Museum in broad daylight?” He braked hard as he asked, narrowly avoiding rear ending the car in front of them, before pulling onto the sidewalk to get around the traffic.

Donatello gagged as his throat slammed up against the seat belt shoulder restraint and he juggled the map gadget, barely snatching it back to his chest before it shattered against the windshield. Sucking in a breath, his brother answered. “Pretty sure. April’s covering the attack now and gave us the heads up.”

“Hey dudes, do you think we’ll have time to check out the dinosaur exhibit. I’ve always wanted to see a T-Rex up close.” Michelangelo’s voice boomed up from the back.

Leonardo waited for a glib comment from Raphael, the natural response, but his brother remained uncharacteristically silent. He had to admit that he’d thought they would have heard from Mona Lisa by now. He hoped she was ok, but, if she was, did that mean that she really didn’t want to see them anymore? The train of thought led nowhere good and he cut it off. He need to focus on protecting the city from Shredder and his minions.

Screeching to a halt, in an alley a block or so away from the museum, they all piled out and made a run from the building, choosing to avoid the media and slip in the back. April would be disappointed but she should have enough footage with Bebop and Rocksteady’s wanton destruction to keep her viewership rolling. They’d already had more than their fair share of the spotlight.

It didn’t take very long to work their way to the front where the Shredder’s lackeys were tearing apart the entrance hall, though they’d had to drag Michelangelo away from several displays along the way.

“Whoa. Imagine how stupendimoso it would be if they were animatronic.”

He elbowed Michelangelo and drew his swords as the Bebop and Rocksteady batted apart the brontosaurus with its own leg bones.

“Turtle power!” He cried out as he led his brothers into battle.

Rocksteady turned at the sound of his battle cry. “Hey it’s the toitles.”

Bebop grinned. “Gee, it looks like we’ll finally have something fun to hit.”

Once again silence from Raphael where there should have been a clever quip. It worried Leonardo.

“Catch me if you can horn head.” Michelangelo taunted Rocksteady and was rewarded when the rhino charged him, getting his face stuck in the wall as Michelangelo gracefully flipped out of the way.

He, Donatello and Raphael were ducking and dodging as Bebop wield a brontosaurus femur like a two-handed club. He was slow and telegraphed his attacks, so there was no chance of getting hit, although countering turned out to be a problem.

At least he’d assumed there was no chance of getting hit. In the same, semi-daze he’d been wandering around in for days, Raphael missed an easy dodge. The bone hit him dead on to the center of his chest and sent him flying into the display of some other unknown dinosaur skeleton that Donatello likely could have identified in more detail than any of them would ever have wanted to know. Raphael sat up, wincing as he rubbed his plastron, not noticing the display of bones beginning to fall.

“No!” He screamed and ran for his brother who was just looking at him in confusion. Raphael grunted as Leonardo collided with him, tumbling them both across the marble floor.

As his brother groaned beneath him, Leonardo looked up to see that the collapse wasn’t a total loss. Donatello had managed to maneuver Bebop close enough to the display to bury him in the falling heap of bones.

“With a little more practice, your rescues might eventually be less painful than what you’re us rescuing from.”

Leonardo couldn’t help grinning at the sound of Raphael’s sarcasm as he gave him a hand to help him up. Who would have thought he’d miss his brother mouthing off? “Well, try not to need rescuing so much then.”

Raphael’s eyes widened and Leonardo followed his gaze. Rocksteady had pulled free of the wall and was about to throw a dinosaur skull towards the front door, where April had her back turned to the fight as she yelled vitriolically at someone out of view.

“Michelangelo! Grappling hook.”

His brother gave him a wink and used the roped projectile to knock the skull off course, just in time, as Donatello jumped in between her and the attack to shield their squishy, human ally from the spray of bone shards with his shell.

When Leonardo turned back towards Rocksteady, Raphael was already in position and Leonardo could see what he had in mind. With a running start, Raphael caught his foot in his cupped hands, launching him upwards, landing on the spine of the T-Rex. He ran up to the head, leaping off the skull and onto a hanging pterodactyl, slashing the wire supports free and riding the skeletal bird all the way down onto Rocksteady, diving off at the last second to absorb his momentum in a roll.

The turtles converged on an irate April by the door.

“Are you ok?” Leonardo asked breathlessly.

“Of course not! Vern flaked on my again and we missed broadcasting the best part!”

Leonardo sighed. April was fine.

The sound of bones tumbling at their backs caused them all to turn in time to see Bebop dragging Rocksteady out of the pile of pterodactyl remains. “You ain’t seen the last of us!”

Leonardo considered giving chase, but the press was converging on the museum. “Time to make turtle tracks.”

With a nod, they all pulled out their grappling hooks to climb the pillars and escaped through the upper windows.

Mona Lisa watched Taylor’s jaw fall open as she stared at her through the open door of their dorm apartment. She probably should have called first to give her friend some warning, but trying to do so would have given her parents a chance to make excuses as to why she shouldn’t leave as they’d done several times before. And she’d really, REALLY needed to get away. It was a wonder her old metro pass was still valid, but she would have walked to Washington Square Village if she had to.

It was strange being back in New York University’s graduate residence hall again after such a long absence, but there was a comforting familiarity to the place. It hadn’t changed much.

“Mona Lisa?” Taylor asked in disbelief.

“Yeah. It’s been a while.”

Taylor’s eyes shined with tears as she stumbled forward to embrace her. Mona Lisa awkwardly patted Taylor on the back. Once she’d been so familiar with Taylor’s easy affection, but the excessive contact felt foreign to her now.

It suddenly occurred to her that during her sabbatical with the turtles, the most physical contact she’d had with anyone was during sparring. She’d come close to casual touches with Raphael countless times but always chickened out at the last minute.

She’d gotten a vague sense of the discomfort from her parent’s constant touching, but had been more focused on their never giving her a minute to herself. Now, here with Taylor, she realized how accustomed she’d gotten to having her personal space. The proximity of her best friend was making her decidedly uncomfortable. But she sucked it up and endured it for the distress she’d undoubted caused Taylor by up and vanishing the way she’d done.

Stifling a sniffle, Taylor released her and dragged her into the small apartment, pushing her down onto the couch. “Where have you been? When did you get back? How? Tell me everything.”

It abruptly occurred to her that she couldn’t. Not anymore than she could with her family. Part of her mind had held onto the delusion of curling up on the tattered, old sofa, black, knit surface almost worn away in the seat and back, sharing a pint of ice cream as she dished on all her recent life events, soliciting her best friend for advice. She wanted nothing more than to tell Taylor all about Raphael and get some feedback as she once had before. But it couldn’t be that way anymore. She had too many secrets now.

It was too bad because she could really use Taylor’s advice. On the way over, she’d almost stopped at one of the few remaining pay phones still scattered around the city, kicking herself for leaving her turtle-com back at the lair when she’d changed clothes. With her parent’s near constant surveillance, she’d had no chance to contact them and now she feared it was too late. Would they have read too much into her silence? Did they resent her now? She was afraid of what they might think of her for failing to get in touch. Taylor would have known the right course of action, but she couldn’t come up with a way to bring it up, even hypothetically.

“I got home a few days ago. It took me a long time to recover after the whole…Captain Filch incident.” Best to be as vague as possible.

Taylor obviously knew that she was holding something back, but she didn’t press. Knowing Taylor, her imagination was probably filling in the blank spaces with all kinds of unpleasant possibilities. She wished she could reassure her friend that her time away hadn’t been that bad. In fact, it had been one of the happiest periods of her life, now that she thought back on it. She ached for the friends she hadn’t seen in days. It felt like much longer.

Taylor wiped away a wave of fresh tears. “We all thought that you were…”

“I know and I’m sorry.”

Taylor shook her head. “All that matters is that you’re back and you’re ok. You are ok, right?”

She managed a smile. “Yes, I am.”

“Taylor have you seen my body butter? I swear I left it on the bathroom sink…”
Reagan, wearing black, mesh shorts and a ratty, grey tank top marched barefoot into the small living room, toweling down her wet hair, but froze at the sight of Mona Lisa.

Taylor cleared her throat. “There’s not enough room on the sink as it is. I put it in the bathroom closet.”

Reagan, never took her eyes off Mona Lisa. “Uh…yeah. Thanks. Umm, welcome back.” With that she turned on her heel and disappeared again.

Taylor rubbed the back of her head, nervously. “I guess I should have told you, but you did kind of catch me off guard. The University wouldn’t let me keep the apartment to myself, so after you’d been gone a while, I had to find another roommate.”

Mona Lisa nodded numbly, swallowing back the shock of being replaced. By Reagan of all people. Although they’d shared several classes with her, Reagan wasn’t that interested in Physics, coasting along on her natural talent, doing as little as possible to keep from failing. Reagan was more into parties than school and only attended classes to keep the free ride from her parents coming, buffering her against the real world. What could Reagan and Taylor possibly have in common?

Taylor chuckled, as though reading her thoughts. “Most everyone we know is already paired up and she got booted by her last roommate so…”

As Taylor’s voice trailed off, Mona Lisa’s eye caught the television, on in the corner. Diving forward, she cranked up the low volume.

“This is April O’Neil reporting from the Museum of Natural History where mutants are tearing our beloved artifacts to shreds. We’re going in for a closer look.”

“We’re are?” An indignant voice responded from beyond the view of the camera.

April’s eyes narrowed. “Yes. We are.” Then she turned and the camera followed her into the building.

There were Leonardo, Donatello and Raphael facing off with Bebop, wielding a dinosaur bone the size of a log.

“Man this town has a lot of crazy weirdos.”

She flinched at Taylor’s assessment of her friends. But before she could speak in their defense, her breath caught in her throat as Raphael was violently knocked into a hadrosaurus skeleton. Though she wanted to, she couldn’t look away as it started to come down on him, only releasing her breath, when she saw Leonardo barrel into him, rolling them both to safety.

A chunk of marble wall shattered near the camera and then all she saw was a wild flight out of the museum with April calling out in the background. “Come back her Vern, you coward!”

Seeing all the idle police officers outside of the building, Mona Lisa felt her ire burning in her gut. “Why didn’t anyone help them?”

Taylor raised an eyebrow at her. “What are normal people supposed to do against that? We couldn’t help, even if we wanted to.”

She wanted to. She should be helping. But Taylor was right. In her current state, she’d only be a useless burden.

Michelangelo munched on his mouth-watering, victory pizza-pie that he’d insisted they pick up on their way back, completely ignoring Donatello’s no food in the lab rule. If they were going to be stuck in here, he wasn’t going to allow himself to waste away. Speaking of…

With his free hand, he grabbed another piece and offered it to Raphael who merely declined with a shake of his head.

Michelangelo frowned. His brother’s hunger strike was totally bogus, but he didn’t have a clue how to break it. Turning down pizza just wasn’t natural. Maybe they could fix Raphael with Donatello’s personality-ray. Sure it had turned into a mondo-disaster the last time they’d tried using it to get Leonardo to lighten up, but that’s because it had gone off by accident. If Donatello used it properly, it would surely be ok. Just to get him to eat. Then they could revert him to his mopey self.

He turned his attention back to his brothers in the hopes of asking, but didn’t see an opportunity to get a word in.

“I just don’t see what use the Shredder could possibly have for dinosaur bones.” Donatello paced as he spoke.

Leo crossed his arms frowning. “They weren’t stealing them. They were just making a mess.”

Donatello rubbed his face, frustrated. “But why?”

Leonardo’s eyes hardened. “Decoy. It’s all a distraction. Donatello can you look up other ordinary robberies that have occurred during Bebop and Rocksteady’s crime spree?”

Donatello blinked in surprise but nodded and darted for his computer. They all crowded around him and a few keystrokes later, Donatello had the information. Although Donatello kept insisting that it was science and logic, Michelangelo was pretty sure it was magic. That seemed like the best explanation for the way his brother seemed to grab answers out of thin air.

“Whoa. There have been a string of robberies and look at all these. They fit the items on the list and they occurred simultaneously with Bebop and Rocksteady’s attacks.”

Leonardo concentrated on the screen as he spoke. “How much have they gotten?”

Donatello compared the list taken from Rocksteady and Bebop with his search results. “Most of the equipment and hardware. There are a few items left, but it’s mostly chemicals remaining.”

Leonardo nodded. “Then we stake out where the remaining items can be obtained.”

Donatello sighed dramatically. “There are too many possibilities.”

Leonardo was undeterred. “Then work up a surveillance system and we’ll spend as much time as needed installing it.”

Michelangelo groaned, knowing that meant he wasn’t going to have any personal time over the next couple of days. Goodbye fun.

“What about Bebop and Rocksteady? They’re still gonna be playing demolition derby with the city right?”

Leonardo considered Raphael’s point for a moment without coming up with an alternative to the obvious but unpleasant conclusion. “Then we’ll have to split up each mission.”

Michelangelo groaned again. They could really use Mona Lisa about now.

The Shredder rubbed his hands together greedily as the Footbots assembled and installed his new apparatus into the Technodrome’s engine. His plan was proceeding flawlessly. He had almost all the physical components he needed. Just a few more items and he could focus on fuel. He’d only need enough to launch the initial assault. From there on, he’d be able to take all the resources he needed. Soon, very soon, the world would be his.

Chapter Text

Chapter 5:

Raphael leaned over the edge of the roof to affix the last sensor to the building. Hauling himself back upright, he yawned and stretched. The all-nighters were beginning to take their toll, but it wasn’t in Leonardo’s nature to cut them much slack when on a mission.

Looking out to the horizon, he could see the sky beginning to lighten and was glad he was done. The last thing he needed was to get caught illegally installing spyware around the city. The news, with the exception of April, loved to report a good scandal on them even if it needed to be invented and he didn’t intend to give them any extra fodder.

In all honesty, April would probably be just as likely to slather over the ‘Turtles Spying on Unsuspecting New York’ story as the rest of them, like a cartoon hobo over a pie, left unguarded on a window sill, but her friendship with them helped to keep those baser instincts in check.

He started across the roof to head back towards the fire escape when he found himself stopped and staring at the brightening sunrise. With a sigh, he sagged against a large AC unit and sank down, wrapping his arms around his knees. With this dawn, it would be eight days since Mona Lisa had left. Eight days without a word. Eight days, not that he was counting or anything. He wanted to believe Sensei, but with each passing day, his doubt grew.

Seeking to give her the benefit of the doubt, he turned it around in his mind, trying to see the situation from her point of view. It might seem like a long time to him, but a little over a week wasn’t that long to have just been reunited with one’s family.

He remembered the lesson in togetherness that Master Splinter had once taught them. He'd learned a few things from the experience. One was, he had the least marketable skill set among his brothers, having gotten stuck singing turtlegrams at parties while the rest of them managed to find real jobs. The other was that he needed his family more than anything.

He’d fought the hardest against Splinter’s instructions that they split up, but had been unable to overcome Leonardo’s obedience. Brief as it was, that separation ranked among the most miserable periods of his life. What if he’d been apart from them as long as Mona Lisa had been out of touch from hers? After being reunited, would he be able to leave them, even to visit a precious friend?

He didn’t think he would. Not at first and not for a while. Maybe she needed this time with them and only them and there wasn’t any room for friends right now. Because even if she felt like family to him, that’s what he must be to her. With a sigh, he forced himself back onto his feet and towards the fire escape.

A loud thud, causing the questionably stable metal structure to shudder violently, broke through the cloud of his thoughts.

“Yo dude, you done, cuz I could really go for some pizza about now.”

Clasping his plastron, he commanded his racing heart to slow, annoyed that Michelangelo, of all people, had gotten the drop on him. “Could you be any less stealthy? I think there are still some people in Michigan who didn’t hear you.”

Michelangelo rolled his eyes. “Missions over for the night, bucko. We can stop ninja-ing it up for a while and have some fun for a change.”

He was sorely tempted to tattle to Leonardo, but no one deserved that. Not even Michelangelo. “Fine. Just get your own fire escape. I prefer mine still attached to the building.”

He expected Michelangelo to take off, eager to get back home to the food, but, to his surprise, his normally carefree and oblivious brother had stopped to stare at him. Finding the scrutiny distinctly uncomfortable, he crossed his arms over his chest defensively. “What? Is my shell on backwards?”

Michelangelo smiled. “Chill dude. She’ll be back in no time. You’ll see and I can say ‘I told you so’ at the return party.”

He scowled and turned his shell on his brother, starting to climb down. “How would you know anything about it?”

Michelangelo laughed. “Come on, being human is totally bogus.”

He sighed. “Well that’s what you get for eating cookies made by the Shredder and she’s not in any danger of randomly switching back and forth between forms or exploding. And just because you didn’t like it, doesn’t mean that she feels that way. She was born human.”

Michelangelo shrugged, undeterred. “So, she’s one of us now. You don’t just go back like nothing’s changed. She’ll come home. You’ll see.”

He blinked as Michelangelo scrambled past him to the alley below. The idea that she wasn’t already home had never occurred to him. But if Michelangelo was right, what was taking so long? He missed her.

Mona Lisa’s eyes glazed over as Professor Hoover droned on. She’d fought so hard for the chance to shadow some of her old classes, her parents still reluctant to relinquish their smothering death grip on her, and now she wondered why.

Elbow balanced precariously on her desk, she rested her cheek on her hand and stared out the window. She’d never found her classes boring in the past, but, as with everything else, nothing was the same and she just couldn’t make any of the pieces of her life fit back together the way they used to.

After Donatello’s more enthusiastic and interactive approach to the acquisition of knowledge, she couldn’t seem to get into Dr. Hoover going through the motions. It didn’t help that she already knew the material. Another side effect of working with Donatello. He’d rapidly advanced her education to get her up to speed so that she’d be able to more effectively help him with his projects. There was none of Donatello’s experimental excitement and thirst for knowledge here.

“Ms. Mckinley, would you like to tell us what the time dilation is in this problem?”

She glanced at the board, taking in the variables, knowns and unknowns, running the math in her head. “Thirty-two years.” She answered blandly before turning to stare back out the window, completely ignoring her instructor’s huff that she was right when he’d been planning on making an example of her.

Instead he glared at the rest of the students. “Dismissed.”

Finally. She stood and darted out of the stuffy building into the brightly lit park just outside. Park might be an exaggeration, as it was just a few stone benches around a cluster of trees and a fountain, but the sun was warm and she felt like she could breathe out here.

“I thought you couldn’t wait to get back to school?” She looked up to see Pierce, an old classmate and study buddy of hers, whom she’d talked into allowing her to shadow his classes.

In the past, hanging out with Pierce had been fun. Being a blue-eyed blonde, around six feet tall and solid, he kind of looked like Captain America and everyone assumed he was a dumb jock on an athletic scholarship, a notion that had never ceased to amaze her after seeing him trip over his own feet to tumble down a flight of stairs in the library. The looks on their faces, when they found out he was total science nerd, were priceless.

True, getting mistaken for a rival by those aggressively pursing him had made for more than one unpleasant and awkward situation until she learned to roll with it. Everyone had to find out for themselves that Physics was Pierce’s one true love. It hadn’t bothered her though as she’d never seen him as more than a friend and idea sounding board.

“I…I’m sorry. Maybe I should have started with a more challenging course.”

He frowned. “Technically this should have been beyond where you were before…”

He didn’t finish. No one really referenced her abduction directly, preferring either euphemisms or avoiding it entirely. She hated that. They way everyone looked at her uncertainly, as though she’d break at any moment, choosing their words with extreme care, drove her crazy. She’d rather they be blunt about it. She wasn’t fragile or weak and the way everyone walked around her on egg shells since her return was slowly infuriating her. They were the ones uncomfortable with what had happened. Not her.

“Circumstances dictated I expand my knowledge base on the fly. I bet I know more than you now.”

Pre-abduction-Pierce would have laughed and demanded she prove it via some sort of science-related competition. Post-adbuction-Pierce just gave her a tight smile. “Sure. I’ve got to get to the lab. Are you going to be ok?”

She sighed, making an effort not to be annoyed. “I’ll be fine. Don’t neglect your experiments on my account.”

For a moment, it looked like he couldn’t decide whether or not she’d been sarcastic, which made sense, since she wasn’t sure either. Ultimately, he decided on the course that made him more comfortable. “Great. See you round then.”

She shook her head as he turned and walked off, not waiting for a response. Why couldn’t things be easy, like before?

In the distance, she could see Truman and Wilson approaching, looking much the same way they did when she’d been abducted. Truman, with his brown hair cut short to showcase his early-onset widow’s peak baldness and large nose overshadowing his beady brown eyes, was dressed almost exactly the same as that day.

Wilson had a least made a few alterations to his style since then. They still shared their fondness for turtlenecks covered by matching blue windbreakers, although any rational person wearing the same would be dying in this heat.

Truman had his classic gray top, complemented by his ever-present khakis. Wilson favored jeans and brighter colors. Today he was rocking a yellow turtleneck instead of the aquamarine he’d chosen the day of her capture. His glasses were still huge and boxy, but at least he’d trimmed his hair close to his head. The square, tabletop cut he’d insisted on before had not been doing him any favors.

She’d been mad at them for so long after they’d jumped ship and abandoned her to fend for herself, especially since they were the reason she’d been out there in the first place. As marine biologists, the expedition had been for their research project and they’d asked her along for her Physics expertise.

Looking back, she was pretty sure that Wilson had been trying to hook up with her and Truman had been playing his wingman, both roles they were ill-suited for even if she would have been aware enough of it to pick up on the sad attempt at innuendo at the time. It sort of made the running off and leaving her at the first sign of danger that much worse.

She’d spent her entire captivity in resentment, blaming them for everything that happened to her. As she watched them now, she realized the resentment was gone.

They caught sight of her and immediately turned in another direction, pretending they hadn’t noticed her.

Well, maybe the resentment wasn’t completely gone as she felt a fresh surge of annoyance at their avoidance. They probably thought she was going to punch them. And prior to her escape, they would have been right. She would have beat them bloody. But now…ultimately their screw up led her to meet the turtles. To meet Raphael. She couldn’t regret what they’d done as long as that was true.

At the thought of the turtles she felt another rush of longing, sorrow and fear. For the past three days, she missed every opportunity to contact them, afraid of what they’d say to her for leaving them hanging so long. Afraid she’d hurt their feelings…his feelings…beyond the point of forgiveness. And every new day she delayed made it worse. If only there were a way to communicate them that wouldn’t involve immediate feedback, where her broken promises wouldn’t be thrown right back in her face.

At the corner in the distance, she could see a woman approach a mailbox with a handful of letters. Maybe there was a way after all.

“So did we draw the short straw or what?” Raphael peered down from atop a three story building to the small carnival in the church parking lot below, closed for the evening. Of course they would get stuck with Bebop and Rocksteady, wreaking havoc on some dinky fair. Of all places why here? There were only a few rides and not even a Ferris wheel.

Next to him Michelangelo shrugged. “Dude, Leonardo’s not going to skip out on facing the Shredder and he’s hoping that Donatello can figure out what Shred Head is up to.”

Raphael blinked. “I feel like I should be concerned that you, of all people, had to point that out to me.”

Michelangelo grinned for a moment before thinking about it. “Hey!”

A loud smashing noise interrupted their banter and they both looked to see Rocksteady slamming a large cotton candy machine onto the ground.

“Aww man, the kids are gonna be majorly disappointed tomorrow.”

Raphael frowned at his brother’s observation. “Not in my town.”

Without another word, he leapt from the building to the top of the church, trusting Michelangelo to follow. Sliding down the deeply pitched roof of the gothic building, he launched himself off the edge, landing loudly atop the funhouse. “If you want concessions, you’re going to have to wait in line and pay like everybody else.”

“Yeah, dude. Don’t be a pig.” Michelangelo chirped as he landed next to him.

Bebop looked up and snorted. “Oh yeah? Why don’t you come down here and say that?”

Nodding to each other, Raphael and Michelangelo split up, each flipping down in separate directions. Raphael landed by a booth with a wire basket of baseballs next to a carefully stacked tower of glass milk bottles. With a grin he snatched up the basket and began pelting Bebop with one fast pitch after another.

Taking several solid blows as he tried futilely to swat the balls out of the air, Bebop let loose a ferocious growl. “I’m gone feed those balls back to you!”

Raphael just laughed as he darted across the arcade lane, loosing another volley. “You’re just jealous that I’m ten for ten.”

Snorting angrily, Bebop charged at him.

Waiting until the last second, Raphael deftly rolled out of the way, evading Bebop’s rush and landing in time to see the warthog slam head first into the ‘test of strength’ mallet game, shooting the puck so high that it rammed the bell straight off the top of the stand. Raphael watched it go up and then down, wincing as it slammed right into the top of Bebop’s head at the end of its descent before the warthog could shake off the initial blow.

“Get back here toitle!”

“You’re not gonna win the cupie doll with that attitude?”

Hearing Rocksteady and Michelangelo, he turned to see Rocksteady, horn covered in ring toss projectiles, chasing down his brother who was making faces at him while loping through the arcade games.

With a laugh, Michelangelo ran gracefully up the rope ladder climb game and jumped from the end to the top of the weight guessing game, ringing the bell as he went. “Dude, I’m betting you’re a solid ton.”

“Hold still so I can pound you!” Rocksteady yelled as he attempted to follow Michelangelo up the ladder, tangling his feet in the rope and tumbling to the ground in a clumsy heap.

Hearing Bebop stirring behind him, Raphael caught Michelangelo’s eyes, cocking his head towards the far end of the arcade.

His brother caught his intention with a grin and took off running. “Catch me if you can!”
Raphael glanced back at Bebop, staggering to his feet. “After a blow like that, I bet you’re going to be a sore loser.”

Casting a wink towards his infuriated opponent, he turned and raced after his brother. They reached the end, pretending to be cornered as their enemies closed in on them. As one, they both leapt up to the top of the booth, leaving Rocksteady and Bebop to plow straight into the dunk tank, drenching themselves as the container shattered, spilling the water free.

Raphael chuckled as he looked down at them. “How about you guys cool off?”

Michelangelo laughed. “Yeah, you dudes needed a bath.”

“Aww, we didn’t need one for another couple of months.” Rocksteady moaned.

“Let’s get out of here!” Bebop called out, desperately trying to shake the water from his fur.

Raphael and Michelangelo watched them flee with a smile. Out of habit, Raphael turned almost expecting to find Mona Lisa nearby to ask her what she thought about those two cleaning up their act. Abruptly recalling where she was and why, his good mood evaporated. Shoulders slumped, he jumped down and started to head home.

Clearly confused by the sudden turn in his demeanor, Michelangelo quickly caught up. “How do think Leonardo and Donatello are doing?”

Raphael snorted. “Those two? Please. They’re probably already done and waiting for us back at the lair.”

Leonardo crouched next to Donatello, sheltering behind a steel control panel as Foot soldier’s laser blasts exploded around them. “That could have gone better.”

Donatello didn’t immediately respond, frowning at the concrete barrier to their left that was now spider-webbed with cracks. “I’m more worried about a breach in the radioactive containment unit. What does Shredder want with that much Uranium anyway?”

Leonardo scowled. “He already got away with his payload. What is there left to worry about besides the platoon trying to fry us?”

Donatello perked up, as he always did when he had an opportunity to explain something. “The neighboring room is a depository for radioactive waste products, waiting to be shipped off to an appropriate storage facility. If that wall breaks, being anthropomorphic turtles isn’t the only mutation we’ll have to worry about, assuming we survive the radiation poisoning.”

Leonardo groaned. “Thanks for that because we already didn’t have enough problems.”

Donatello shrugged. “Technically it would still be a problem, whether or not I mentioned it.”

Leonardo shook his head. “Do you have any good news?”

His brother thought for a moment, seemingly oblivious to the explosions going off around them. “Well, this place is pretty solidly built. If the wall breaches, at least the neighboring community will be protected from radiation exposure.”

Leonardo glared at him. “I meant good news for us. Like suggestions on how we can get out of here with our shells intact.”

Donatello shook his head. “The only way out is the steel door on the other side of those Foot soldiers.”

Leonardo’s mind worked fast as he assessed their environment. As useless as the suggestion sounded, it was the seed of a coherent plan when combined with everything else that Donatello had told him. “Can you set this control panel to make noise without light after a couple minute’s delay?”

Clearly not seeing where he was going with the question, Donatello nodded.

“Good. Do it.”

Donatello immediately removed the back panel of the console, doing something, presumably useful and scientific, to the wires within.

The moment his brother indicated that he was done, Leonardo launched a barrage of throwing stars, killing all the lights in the room. Then he launched his grappling hook towards where he remembered the centermost ceiling light being, sighing in relief as he felt the grapple catch. Grabbing Donatello he began rappelling them both up and outward.

Before the slight sound of their movement could draw fire, the panel behind them released a series of loud beeps and clicks that caused the Footbots to light it up like a firework.

Clicking off the rappel feature midway off, Leonardo used their momentum to complete the swing, gracefully landing them both just before the steel door. Shoving Donatello through, Leonardo spun back, using the dim illumination of the laser blasts to identify the robots closest to the damaged wall.

Unleashing another volley of throwing stars, he was rewarded by the glowing sight of their overloading weapons before diving through the door and slamming it shut. Together, he and Donatello slid closed the steel crossbar to seal the room. A few seconds later, he could hear the wall crumbling within amid the weapon fire and more explosions.

He looked over to Donatello. “Will that stop the soldiers?”

Donatello grinned. “The Shredder never bothered to shield his bots against radiation. That’s going to ruin the transistors in their semiconductors.”

Leonardo blinked uncomprehendingly at him.

Donatello sighed. “They won’t work anymore.”

Leonardo let out a relieved breath. “Good. Let’s go home so Michelangelo and Raphael can rub this in our faces.”

The Shredder returned triumphant from his hunt, robotic servants already unloading his haul. Leaving them to their task, he went to check on the progress of his generator’s construction. A quick examination revealed that it was almost complete. A few more runs for fuel components and he’d bring this world to its knees. The only caveat being that the wretched Turtles had shown up for tonight’s heist.

With any luck, the two he’d left trapped were out of the picture, but experience had taught him not to count on it. Even at this late stage their interference could be problematic. But he was so close, there was no way he’d give up now. Not when victory was nearly in his grasp. This time he would win.

Mona Lisa fingered the polaroid picture of herself that she’d taken. It was a wonder the camera still worked, still had film even, after collecting dust in her closet for so many years after being handed down to her from her father.

She’d worn her favorite pink sundress with matching flats. Her gold jewelry sparkled in the light of the camera flash and her hair, gathered thickly back in a pretty, pink band crowned her head. She’d wasted a lot of film, posing in front of the mirror, holding the camera up and to the side to capture herself, until she’d finally gotten a result that she considered passable.

She’d already finished and labeled her missives to Leonardo, Donatello, Michelangelo and Splinter, but when she started on Raphael, it impulsively occurred to her that she wanted him to see her as she was meant to be. She wanted him to see her as pretty. Hence the time wasted on an old school selfie.

Writing his was the most difficult. Not wanting to seem ungrateful for their gift to her, she’d opted to focus on the positive aspects of her resumed life, few and far between as they were, refusing to bring up all the difficulties she’d endured.

It had been easy to gloss over in everyone else’s letters, but she hesitated with Raphael. She wished she could just talk to him about everything that seemed wrong in her life. He’d understand and lighten the mood with some witty repartee. How she missed that. Maybe if she was subtle, she could get his advice without revealing how utterly crap-tastic everything seemed at the moment.

With that course of action decided, she settled into her desk to finish her final letter and seal the envelope, already addressed to April, who would see it safely to the right hands. All she needed now was to find the words.

Chapter Text

Chapter 6:

“No! You incompetent fools! The calibrations must be exact.” Shredder elbowed the mechanical Foot soldiers aside, correcting their adjustments. His blueprints were specific down the finest detail. How could they screw this up? The tiniest error could spell disaster and the ruination of all his plans. Of all the faults that came with automaton underlings he had never expected, a wide margin of error in mechanical construction to be one of them. Useless pieces of junk.

This put him in a quandary. He still needed the primary fuel for his reactor. Sol Laboratories had exactly what he needed. Large samples of pure hydrogen, densely packed. But he couldn’t very well go retrieve it himself if these bunglers were going to keep making inexcusable mistakes. This was one device that required perfection.

The communication screen lit up behind him and he squeezed his eyes shut to ward off the impending headache. Sadly, it did nothing to block out Krang’s blubbery, wet voice from crackling out of the speakers. “Shredder! What is taking so long? I had the weapons array completed days ago.”

“There has been unexpected difficulties in acquiring the components I need, but I am handling it.” Shredder responded through gritted teeth, not bothering to turn around. He had no interest in laying eyes on Krang’s squishy, pink face.

“If you are not up to the task…”

“I said I’m handling it!” Shredder spun to glare at him.

Krang merely rolled his eyes. “My patience is waning. I’m sending General Traag and Sergeant Granitor to see that your end gets done properly.”

Shredder’s first instinct was to throw the demand back in Krang’s face, but the reality was, he needed someone to go out and retrieve his fuel and all he had at the moment were Bebop and Rocksteady.

Glancing over at them, he could see the two mutants making faces into one of the security cameras and laughing at the onscreen results. Rocksteady, noticing that the Shredder was observing him, gave him a toothy grin and waved. He sighed. There was no way those two idiots were getting anything done, but he wouldn’t give Krang the satisfaction of knowing he needed the help.

“Fine. Do what you want.” He wasn’t about to let anything, not even his pride, get in the way of this victory.

Raphael leaned back in his bed, his mind running over the contents of Mona Lisa’s letter on a repeat loop, as it had since April had dropped it off a day ago, though the postmark indicated it had been mailed three days prior.

“Hey guys! Mail call.” April’s voice rang through the lair, pulling the turtles and Master Splinter away from their various activities.

It wasn’t a surprising event as, on the rare occasion they did receive correspondence, they’d set it up to come through April, trusting her to weed out the junk from what actually mattered.

Michelangelo made it to her first. “Is it, like, something fun this time?” He tried peeking as she held the mail behind her back.

“Easy. You’ll each get yours.”

“Has my subscription to Science Monthly gone into effect? I wasn’t expecting the first issue for a couple of weeks. It’d be great if it was here early.” Donatello approached inquisitively.

Michelangelo rolled his eyes. “If that’s all she brought, it’ll be a major bummer.”

“Give her some space guys.” Leonardo instructed, though he too was craning his neck to see what she’d brought.

“Your brother is right. Everyone three steps back.” They all obeyed Master Splinter’s instruction and April waved the stack of mail over her head.

Michelangelo looked up at them in puzzlement, while Leonardo exchanged glances with Donatello. “Are those letters?”

Donatello shrugged. “They look like it, though I can’t imagine who would be sending us snail mail.”

Raphael continued to sit at the kitchen table, absentmindedly spinning one of his sais, more or less ignoring the whole event until one of Michelangelo’s comments broke through his disinterest.

“Hey! Mine’s from Mona Lisa!”

Leonardo looked down at his. “Mine too. Donatello?”

“Yup. It looks like she sent one to each of us.”

Raphael jumped up from the table and about bowled April over. “What about me?”

“Easy, tiger.” She held out her hands defensively in front of her and he saw his name on the envelope, written in Mona Lisa’s familiar scrawl. Snatching the letter out of her hand, he immediately rushed off to his room.

He hadn’t asked his brothers or Master Splinter about their letters yet, not really ready to talk about his in return, but from listening to them, he was pretty sure that he was the only who’d gotten a picture.

Upon first opening the letter, he’d spent a solid twenty minutes just staring at the photograph, memorizing its details. It had been the first time he’d seen her in almost two weeks and he couldn’t help drinking it up. The picture was now taped to the side of the old shelves at the foot of his bed, only visible from the position in which he was currently laying.

Added to his already existing collection of Mona Lisa photographs, he couldn’t help but note that as different as she looked in human form, she was still exquisite and unique, despite now having billions of other counterparts. He was pretty sure that she’d ensnare him in whatever form she took because there was an essential part of who she was that inevitably seemed to show through. She was always beautiful.

With a sigh, he lifted the letter and reread the words that he now knew by heart. On the surface, it seemed ordinary enough, just accounts of her day to day life since leaving them. But there was something in her tone and description that nagged at him. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but he was sure that something wasn’t right. She wasn’t happy, but he didn’t know enough from the letter to understand why and it was driving him crazy.

One thing, however, had been abundantly clear since the letters came in. Why they hadn’t heard from her. It sounded like her friends and family were sticking pretty close, not surprising. As a result, it seemed like she wouldn’t have had an easy time of placing a discreet call without at least one of them finding out.

He hadn’t really thought about it before. With their celebrity status in the city, they worked hard to keep their personal lives as private as possible and part of that was keeping their contact with outsiders to a minimum. Of course Mona Lisa would respect that, but she was family, so by extension her family was family too. Maybe if they’d told her that the day she’d left, they would have heard from her a lot sooner.

He was going to have to tell Leonardo and Master Splinter to inform her that her family was welcome in the loop. Being in charge, they’d need to be the ones to say it for it to count.

But that still left the issue of her unhappiness. He’d been debating how to respond. Should he pry into it or wait until she was ready to bring it up directly? He wasn’t sure what the best course was to follow.

After more lingering, internal indecision, he finally decided that there was only one thing he absolutely needed to say. Fishing around his room for some spare paper and a pen, he began to write.

April didn’t even look up as the lunch cart rolled into her office. Her desk was a mess with time-wasting story demands from Bern, unhelpful suggestions from Vern on how to glamorize their bits and a stack of possible leads to real stories that consisted mostly of anonymous tips from cranks and crackpots. She almost wished the Shredder would make a move so she could boost her ratings, but lately his antics had amounted to mundane burglary that she couldn’t figure out.

A letter plunked down on her desk, breaking her train of thought and scattering her already disorganized papers. Snapping her head up to glare at the lunch guy, she gasped when she saw one of the turtles wearing the creepy human disguise she gotten for them forever ago. Glancing back at the letter, she narrowed down her visitor by the sender and recipient written there.

“Raphael, what are you doing here in the middle of the day? If you wanted to send a response, I could’ve swung by the lair after work to get it.”

He shrugged. “It’s a nice day and I thought I could use some sun.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Raphael?”

He huffed. “Fine. I couldn’t wait. Can you send it out pronto?”

She smiled and leaned back in her chair in defeat. “I suppose. I’ve got nothing better to do on my lunch break.”

He clapped a hand on her shoulder. “Thanks April, you’re the best.”

She grinned. “So I’ve been told.”

He started to leave, but she called out, suddenly remembering something that might or might not be relevant. “Raphael, wait up.”

He turned to face her, making her wish once again that she’d been able to find them less unnerving disguises.

“Mona Lisa’s parents must have seen the letters to me and remembered that I was the one to cover her original abduction. They’re holding a welcome back gathering for her on Saturday and invited me. If you want me to pass anything along when I go, let me know.”

Raphael paused thoughtfully for a moment. “No, actually, I’ve got a better idea. Thanks April.”

With that he was gone. She was about to retrieve the letter from her desk when the phone rang. Cringing at the caller ID, she picked up. “Hey Bern…”

“O’Neil are you out covering that chalk art festival, because it seems like you’re sitting on your butt in your office.”

Massaging the bridge of her nose with her free hand, she took a breath before responding. “Bern, there’s got to be something better than a few pavement scribbles. It’s fluff piece and you know it.”

“You got something better? Then you’ve got five minutes to get up her and pitch it to me or you’re out doing the art festival, got it?”

She huffed out an angry breath. “Got it.”

Slamming the phone back into its cradle, she grabbed the top half of her tip stack, not noticing the rest spill down over Raphael’s letter. She’d be sure to find something at least halfway credible by the time she made it up to Bern’s office.

Mona Lisa exited the cargo elevator into a large empty space full of enormous canvasses covered in abstract imagery. The windows, set into the deteriorating brick walls were narrow but almost two stories tall on their own and appeared to be the sole source of light for the massive room. Avoiding puddles of wet paint, she ventured cautiously into the workshop.

Originally she’d wondered how Tyler could afford to live in Harlem as an independent fine artist. Now, she suspected he was squatting in an unused warehouse that was probably in conflict between historical preservationists wanting to leave it be and everyone else wanting to tear it down for public safety. But there was still power, as the elevator proved, so he must be living here legitimately, in some fashion or other.

“Tyler?”

“Over here.” His voice answered from the far corner and she navigated the maze of art supplies towards it. Stepping into the well-lit, far end of the loft, illuminated by sunlight streaming through windows on both sides of the corner walls, stood her older brother, in his usual sneakers, ragged jeans and ratty t-shirt, covered head to toe in smudges of every color of paint imaginable. Under the mess she could only make out a few patches of his originally sand-colored hair, cut short and choppy as though he did it himself, which was most likely the case.

Maneuvering for a better view, she caught sight of the canvas, a riotous mess of color and shape without the slightest rhyme or reason to it. Tyler stared intently at his work, before scooping up a brush from a can of teal paint and smearing a meandering line across the whole thing.

“Yes.”

As always, she had no idea what he was going on about and she couldn’t even blame it on her recent, life-altering experience. There had never been a point in her life when she’d truly understood Tyler. Neither had Monroe. It was probably one of the factors in how close she was to her younger brother. Or at least how close she used to be. They were still in a holding pattern of avoiding each other.

She almost asked whether people actually paid money for stuff like the thing he’d just produced, but caught the words before they left her mouth, refashioning them into something less rude. “So how much do you think it will sell for?”

He turned and raised a magenta smeared eyebrow at her. “Art exists for its own sake, independent of the artificial value markers of the material world.”

With a huff she crossed her arms and stared him down until he doubled over laughing. “I know what you’re really asking. You were never very subtle, you know. There are people who are more than happy to assign large monetary tags to my work. It’s the only way they know how to show appreciation, so I don’t begrudge them for it.”

She rolled her eyes. “I should hope not. Other forms of appreciation won’t buy you more paint.”

He shook his head in amused exasperation. “Always the practical one.”

She let it go, knowing that some divides were too vast to bridge. “You don’t seem too surprised to find me here. Were you expecting me?”

His sun-weathered face split with a grin, causing his now multicolored, close-trimmed beard to appear to undulate as it moved with his face and his warm brown eyes to light up with mirth. “Not at all. That’s the beauty of it.”

She sighed, remembering again why it was she found typically found reasons to avoid Tyler. “Can you just try to make sense for once?”

The grin faded and he actually looked a little disappointed, but his expression quickly cleared. “Expectations slow us down, get in the way of enlightenment. It’s better not to have them if you can avoid it. My work is best appreciated with no expectations at all.”

He was still as annoyingly philosophical as ever, but she could see how expecting his paintings to look like something more sensible than colorful vomit would ruin the enjoyment of them.

Smoothing out the crinkles in the envelope she’d been clutching the whole way here, she offered it out to him.

Smiling coyly, he accepted it and tossed it unopened onto the small paint-stained table behind him.

Feeling a fresh surge of irritation, she glared at him. “You’re not planning on opening it, are you?”

He shrugged. “Unopened, it remains unlimited in its possibility.”

Fighting back the urge to punch him, she spoke through ground teeth. “It’s an invitation to a welcome back party mom’s throwing for me on Saturday. Feel free to skip.”

He frowned. “And now you’ve gone and shackled it.”

Now she was fighting the urge to punch his dumb painting. What had possessed her to come out here? Right. Home was stifling and she needed an excuse, any excuse, to get away. So she’d offer to deliver this one by hand, knowing the trip would buy her some precious time to herself.

To his credit, so far Tyler was the only one not acting the slightest bit different around her. It was comforting in its usual, maddening sort of way.

She noticed Tyler staring intently at her, like one of his paintings and realized that she’d slipped from petulant rage back into the burden of melancholy she’d been lugging around since coming home.

“You’re miserable.” It was a statement, not a question, and she felt no obligation to answer. He leaned against the brick wall, examining her thoughtfully. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Her first impulse was to scream ‘no’ and storm out of the loft, but in truth that wasn’t how she felt at all. It occurred to her, that with her bizarre and somewhat nonexistent relationship with her eldest brother, there really wasn’t anything for the truth to screw up and hurt. And since no one could ever really get a straight, sensible answer out of him, it wasn’t as though he was likely to run around gossiping.

“Nothing’s right anymore.”

He frowned. “And what is ‘right’ supposed to mean?”

“Everyone, even me, is trying and trying to go back to the way things were, but it isn’t working. I’m me, how I’m supposed to be, and I’m home, where I belong, but I’m not so sure I believe either of those things anymore.”

He ran his hand over his beard, scattering dried paint flecks like tiny confetti. “So who are you supposed to be and where do you belong?”

To her surprise, she admitted something that she’d been afraid to even think over the almost two weeks since returning to humanity. “I’m meant to be the person I was when I was gone and I belong with the friends who saved me. I miss my family and my friends, I really do. But I’m not a part of this world anymore.”

He smiled. “Then you should go home.”

She blinked at him in shock. “You think I should just abandon everyone again. I owe them better than that.”

He approached her, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear and leaving what felt like a smear of paint in its wake. His smile was surprisingly sad. “You don’t owe anyone anything and are under no obligation to live up to anyone’s expectations whether their yours or someone else’s. You just need to be who you are.”

Her vision grew watery as her eyes teared up. “But…”

“Besides, who said you needed to abandon anyone? There’s no reason you can’t stay connected with us from wherever you return to. In time, maybe you can build something new, something real instead of chasing after the past. But living a lie isn’t healthy. I advise you to be true to yourself.”

She managed a smile, wiping away her tears and feeling better than she had in days. “I suppose you of all people would know.”

He nodded. “I can’t promise it’s easy, but it is worth it.”

Sniffling, she backed up and started for the door, turning back to him just before she was out of sight. “Thanks. I’ll think about what you said.”

He gave her a parting smile and she was gone.

Leonardo led his brothers into the back entrance of Sol Laboratories, the metal door already broken in, dented nearly in half. Donatello’s alert system had gone off and they’d arrived in record time, thanks in no small part to the evening decrease in motor traffic. Sometimes he wished that Donatello would build in a flight or hover mode to the turtle van for when they faced the threat of New York grid lock.

On the upside, Raphael seemed more himself than he had in days. Maybe it was Mona Lisa’s letter. He knew they’d all been happy to finally hear from her. Although he’d already sent back his response, at Raphael’s request, he intended to send another note, letting her know that it was ok, to tell her family about them.

The need to lift that particular restriction hadn’t even occurred to him before she left and he was kicking himself for it. He could’ve saved his brother a lot of misery if he’d thought the situation through thoroughly. It was on him. He’d find a way to make it up to Raphael. In the meantime, he was just glad to have his brother back, though he might regret the sentiment once Raphael started running his mouth again.

He led the way and his brothers filed in behind him, all of them moving silently as he listened for the sounds of the thieves. It didn’t take long before the crash of breaking laboratory equipment lured him up through the stairwell to the second floor.

Looking through the vertical rectangle of glass, built into the heavy lab door, he wasn’t entirely surprised to find Rocksteady and Bebop inside, tearing the room apart with no apparent purpose to their destruction. An obvious decoy, but one that couldn’t be ignored. They needed to handle this fast.

Signaling Raphael and Donatello to hold back, he kicked open the door and drew his swords, pointing one at the momentarily stunned rhino and warthog. “Turtle power!” He called out as he charged into the room, Michelangelo bouncing after him, chucks spinning.

He went straight for Rocksteady, throwing his opponent off with a feint as he ducked under a clumsy grab. Shooting his foot out, he rammed his heel into the rhino’s snout, just below where the horn protruded, earning himself a painful bruise, but effectively enraging the moron. All that remained to tumble aside as Rocksteady charged into the space he’d just vacated and embedded his head into a metal locker that he was unable to pull it free despite all his thrashing.

Checking in to see how Michelangelo fared, he realized that his brother was dangling from one end of one of his chucks while Bebop held the other high in the air. Unable to scream at Michelangelo to just let go of his weapon in time, he could only watch as the warthog flung his brother across the room. Michelangelo slid shell-first down a long lab table shattering everything on it in a cascade of destruction.

Bebop was ready to charge after Michelangelo and Leonardo was poised to intervene, when a barrage of glassware suddenly started shattering in Bebop’s face.

“Looks like I finally found a good use for your ugly mug.” Raphael’s taunt rang loud and clear as he shot off another round of test tubes.

“I’ll get you toitles!” Bebop roared, gagging on an Erlenmeyer flask as it flew into his open mouth.

“Clear!” Leonardo heard and understood Donatello, taking out Bebop’s legs with a sweeping kick and diving as far away from them as single leap could carry him. As he escaped, he noticed a few of Donatello’s throwing stars flying in the opposite direction and followed them until they hit their targets, the large, metal, storage tanks behind Bebop and Rocksteady. Structural integrity compromised, the pressure won and a smoky liquid poured forth, freezing Rocksteady and Bebop like living popsicles.

“Liquid nitrogen. Gets ‘em every time.”

Leonardo spared Donatello an amused smile. “Careful or you’ll start sounding like Raphael.”

“Uh oh.” They all turned towards Michelangelo who was quickly scrambling away from a puddle of chemicals that had burst into flame upon mixing together.

“Uh oh.” Donatello reiterated, grabbing Michelangelo by the arm and rushing for the door. Sharing a look with Raphael who merely shrugged, Leonardo moved to follow.

None of the made it before the sprinklers kicked in. Except they weren’t sprinklers. A spray of fine choking powder poured forth from each and they barely made it out of the room, gagging as they went. Despite the desire to pitch forward onto his knees and cough up a lung, Donatello herded them down the hall. Leonardo had just noticed his skin was starting to burn when Donatello got them to the contraption at the far end. With a tug of the chain cord, water cascaded down on them, cleansing the painful irritant away.

“Ok, I know I’m gonna regret this, but what the heck was that?” Raphael half groaned, half spoke.

Donatello answered as he vigorously scrubbed at his skin. “Chemical fire retardant, one I’m not familiar with. It must be a proprietary formula.”

“They’re too good for regular water?” Raphael muttered in response.

“Well, water isn’t necessarily effective against certain types of chemical fires…”

Leonardo held up a hand to forestall his brother before the explanation turned lengthy.

“Do you think Bebop and Rocksteady will be ok? That stuff was majorly wicked.” Michelangelo’s normally laidback voice was laced with concern.

Raphael snorted. “As if anything could penetrate their thick skins.”

“I’m sure the ice will protect them until they thaw out.” Donatello sounded mostly certain.

In the momentary silence that resulted from the lull in conversation, Leonardo could hear the sound of rummaging above him. “Third floor. Turtles move out.”

A flight of stairs later, Leonardo kicked in the door to the lab on the third floor to find a familiar pair of rock soldiers loading enormous canisters into a Foot-emblemed tank, hovering just outside the window.

“How did we miss that?” Leonardo could hear Raphael call out from behind him, followed by Donatello’s inevitable response. “Well we approached the building from the opposite and didn’t need to go all the way around to get in, so…”

“It is Lord Krang’s reptilian enemies.” General Traag’s slow, deep voice interrupted Donatello’s long-winded explanation.

Sergeant Granitor straightened to attention. “Shall we destroy them, sir?”
“If we can, but completing the mission is top priority.”

“Dudes, you’re talking about us and we’re right here. Mondo rude.” Michelangelo chimed in.

Leonardo tuned out all the irrelevant chatter. “Whatever you’re up to, we’re here to stop it. Turtles attack!”

The rock soldiers pulled out their laser guns and opened fire as the Turtles dodged their way through the barrage of energy blasts. Leonardo slashed Traag’s firearm in half, while Raphael skewered Granitor’s.

Unfortunately, Donatello and Michelangelo’s strikes were not as successful. Michelangelo had gone after Traag, one chuck dinging off his green helmet, the other bouncing harmlessly off his clay-colored chest. “Uh, right. Rock dudes.”

Donatello’s staff hit and slid off Granitor’s blue helmet to splinter apart on his pointy, granite nose. “I may have miscalculated.”

General Traag plowed a massive stone fist into Michelangelo’s chest, knocking him back into Leonardo and sending both flying to the other side of the room. Sergeant Granitor, grabbed the remains of Donatello’s staff, lifting him and swinging him about like a flag, he batted Raphael into a row of pressurized, metal canisters after Raphael failed to duck the third pass. Swing a fourth time around, Granitor released the staff and let Donatello soar into Michelangelo and Leonardo, who were just regaining their feet.

“We’ve obtained enough reactor fuel. It is time to retreat.”

Leonardo, not yet ready to admit defeat, shoved Donatello off of him and flipped back to his feet, swords at the ready to halt Traag’s announced escape. That’s when he saw both Granitor and Traag in the hover-tank, ready to lob a pair of grenades.

“This rooms full of hydrogen. Everyone out!”

Hearing the panic in Donatello’s voice, Leonardo quickly changed plans, launching his remaining throwing stars at the nearest window and charging for it. “Follow me!”

Sensing his brothers right behind him, he smashed through the compromised glass and caught the nearest street lamp with his grapping hook. Throwing the rest of the rope behind him, he barely had a chance to see his brothers catch it before the entire third floor was engulfed in a massive explosion that rocketed them away from the building, their shells fortunately taking the brunt of the force and heat.

The rope slowed them for a second as they were blown from the point of origin but the wave of flame engulfed the street lamp, incinerating their rope and grapple. Cut loose, they hit the pavement rolling.

“Everyone ok?” Leonardo, somewhat dazed, forced himself upright to check on his brothers.

“As ok as the contents of a blender on puree.” If Raphael could joke he was fine.

“Anyone get the number of that bus that hit me?” Michelangelo asked as she staggered to his feet. Probably fine too.

“Whoa. It looks like Bebop and Rocksteady will thaw out much faster than I originally estimated.” Donatello gazed up at the now burning building, appearing no worse for wear.

Granitor and Traag were probably long gone and unless they wanted more bad press, they’d better make tracks before the fire department arrived. Clearing some debris away from the door to the turtle van, he was pleased to find their vehicle intact. Or at least intact enough for them to get away.

“Pile in, everyone. We’re moving out.”

Donatello, looked at the burning third floor of the lab building as it faded into the distance out the rear window of the van, the words ‘reactor fuel’ lighting off a chain reaction in his brain. The other thefts, the list of materials, the hydrogen from Sol Labs, it all came together suddenly in a unified whole.

“Uh oh.”

“Dude, tell me you’re just remembering that you left the oven on at home.” Michelangelo groaned out as Leonardo veered down a side street.

“No, guys, I know what the Shredder is building.” He turned back to his brothers, eyes wide with concern.

Raphael sighed as he scrubbed at the scorch marks, visible to him at the edge of his shell. “Dare I hope that it’s something nice and fun rather than a doomsday weapon?”

“I’m almost certain he’s building a nuclear fission-fusion hybrid reactor.” He waited for a reaction from the others, seeing only blank expressions staring back at him.

Raphael glanced over at Leonardo, still focused on the road. “I have no idea what that it is, but it’s definitely got a doomsday ring to its name.”

Donatello sighed in frustration. “It makes energy, a lot of it, like having a personal sun to power all your stuff.”

Raphael snorted. “And me without my SPF eighty thousand sunblock.”

Leonardo ignored him. “What could he power with this thing?”

Donatello shrugged as his mind filtered through the seemingly unlimited possibilities. “Just about anything, but since it’s the Shredder, my guess would be something to do with the Technodrome.”

“Ooh, and world domination. Can’t forget that.” Michelangelo added helpfully.

“Gee thanks, because we needed that reminder.” Raphael rolled his eyes, but Michelangelo ignored him as he flitted off to an only marginally relevant topic.

“Hey, why don’t you build one of these gizmos for us? It sounds like we could have the ultimate pizza oven with it.”

Donatello frowned. “I actually theorized designs for a similar device a long time ago, but shelved them. While it is an incredibly efficient source of mostly clean energy, there are some inherent stability issues that make the benefits not worth the risk.”

Michelangelo blinked at him. “Uh, does that mean you’re working on it?”

Donatello sighed and opened his mouth to explain in greater detail, but Leonardo, still watching the road, help up a hand, forestalling him. “So, back on task, we’re going to have to infiltrate to Technodrome…”

“…assuming we can locate it. They’ve got new cloaking technology that I haven’t cracked yet.” Donatello interjected.

“…and break this reactor.” Leonardo finished as though there had been no interruption.

Donatello gasped as he realized what his brother had just said. “No! Weren’t you listening?”

“Doesn’t really matter if you’re speaking a made up language, does it?” Raphael pointed out.

“If the reactor is operational, we need to carefully dismantle it. Very carefully.”

Leonardo took a breath, rubbing the bridge of his beak with one hand. “You want us to fight off all the defenses of the Technodrome, while you slowly take this device apart?”

Donatello nodded emphatically. “Yes.”

Raphael laughed. “Well, if that’s all…”

“And what happens if we’re not careful?” Leonardo inquired.

Donatello, chose his words carefully, not wanting to be misunderstood. “If destabilized, the Shredder’s personal sun becomes his personal supernova and Ohio will probably have some brand new Atlantic coastline.”

He watched his brothers blink at each other in dismayed shock.

Leonardo took another deep breath. “Ok, the three of us will hold off all the Shredder’s forces and buy Donatello the time he needs to carefully disable the reactor.”

Raphael rolled his eyes. “Great plan. I’m excited to be part of it.”

Leonardo managed a half-hearted grin. “Sorry, but it’s all we’ve got.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 7:

Mona Lisa sat on the couch amid the gathering of friends and family, largely alone. The event was fairly crowded in her parents’ modest apartment and she was technically squished into the middle of the couch as it was more than packed to capacity, given the shortage of chairs.

Her parents were bustling about being good hosts and while everyone had greeted her upon arrival, they were all, for the most part, busying themselves with other guests. For once she didn’t mind the dance of awkward avoidance that most people went into around her. Her parents were too busy to hover and her friends were giving her space, figuratively if not literally. She appreciated the much needed time to think.

After her talk with Tyler a few days ago, he was unsurprisingly not present now, she’d slowly come to a decision. After the party, she would say her goodbyes to her parents and move out. Back to her original home in the sewers, near the Turtles’ lair.

This time though, she would keep in touch with calls and email. Assuming she hadn’t completely blown her friendship with them, she was pretty sure Donatello could hook her up with whatever she needed. But her most important goal was setting things right with the Turtles, with Raphael. She needed that more than anything else. She wasn’t sure how long it would take to repair the damage, but she’d spend a lifetime on it if she had to.

Perhaps, if she trained hard enough with Splinter, she could even rejoin helping them out. She knew they sometimes worked with that wacko Casey Jones and he was human. Maybe. Regardless, it was the life she wanted and she was determined to find her way back to it.

She could only hope her friends and family would understand. She couldn’t be the only one who was aware of how badly she was acclimating back into her old life. Because there was no going back. Time didn’t reverse itself. You could only keep going forward and hope you didn’t lose anything important along the way.

The door opened and she looked up to see what new guest was arriving this time, surprised to find April O’Neil walking through her parents’ door. She immediately unwedged herself from the other people on the couch and pushed up to her feet. “April? I didn’t know you were coming.”

April gave her an easy smile, something she hadn’t had a good long while. It was nice to finally be around someone who knew her secrets. “Well, your parents invited me and I thought it’d be rude to skip out.”

Finding herself unconsciously grinning, she asked. “How are the guys? I’ve gotten a few letters back…” She trailed off, not quite willing to mention that she hadn’t gotten the one she’d been waiting on most.

April rolled her eyes and pouted. “They’re busy with something and keeping it all to themselves. I know there’s a story in there somewhere and they aren’t telling me.” As almost an afterthought, April flushed in apparent embarrassment. “I almost forgot, Raphael gave this to me to send out a few days ago and it sort of got lost in the shuffle. By the time I found it again, I realized it would just be faster to hand deliver it your party.”

She could see her name on the envelope and Raphael’s sharp, choppy handwriting as April drew it out of her bag. Knowing on some level that she was being horribly rude, she snatched the letter out of April’s hand and made a dash for her room, noting as she did so that April looked more amused than anything else.

Closing the door behind her in relief, she rushed to the desk and tore open the envelope. The letter was short, just a single line, but resonated with her. I miss you. She missed him too. More than anything. The words blurred as her eyes filled with tears.

Then a sharp sound pulled her out of the moment. She looked around the room to identify the source. Another small thunk and this time she saw the little rock hitting her window. Curious, she pushed it open and looked out.

To her amazement, Raphael stood in the alley below with a handful of small stones. Smiling despite her watery eyes, she gestured for him to come up. Stepping back, she made space for him to slip into her room.

For a second her seemed genuinely happy to see her, before his expression turned uncertain and he looked away. “I probably shouldn’t have come. Tonight’s for your family and friends, but I…it feels like it’s been a really long time.”

Her heart clenched and without thinking she closed the distance between them and wrapped her arms around him. “You are my friend and my family and I’m glad you’re here.”

Letting out a long, deep sound of contentment, he returned the hug. She wasn’t sure whether or not he was doing it intentionally, but he began stroking her smooth, brown hair. Finding the contact soothing she rested her head against his chest to give him better access, listening to his heartbeat through his plastron. Steady, if a bit fast.

After a moment, he spoke. “Are you ok? You didn’t say anything in your letter, but you sounded…”

She pulled back to see the concern in his eyes as he looked down at her. Right, the letter. Of course, he’d been worried about her. She’d sort of been counting in him picking up on her sadness when she wrote it, though she wished he was here for more than the worry she must have caused him.

Sighing, she pulled away and plopped down on her bed. “Yeah. I’m not the same person I used to be and I…can’t seem to fit back into the way things were.”

He sat down beside her. “Can I help?”

She shook her head with a weak smile. “No. I have an idea for how to handle it.”

He let out a relieved breath. “Good. Being down doesn’t suit you.”

She tried for another smile, knowing that it probably didn’t reach her eyes. Would he leave now that his concerns had been allayed? She didn’t want him to go.

Hoping to forestall the inevitable, she hopped up and gave her dress a little twirl. “What do you think?” She gestured to her ensemble, basically the same outfit she’d sent him a picture of almost a week ago.

He shook off the shock of her abrupt action and smirked. “Looks good. I kind of thought pink might be your color.”

Her smile was genuine now. “Did the neckerchief give it away?”

He laughed. “Nothing gets passed me. Got a mind like a steel trap. Always wondered what humans used earlobes for.” He stood to give one her dangling, gold earrings a little tap.

She could feel her cheeks heat up and she shrugged. “Well, it’s nice to be pretty again, I mean, not that I’m an objective judge…ugh that sounded really narcissistic. Can I start over?” As she flailed around for something to say that didn’t sound so vain, she realized his expression had fallen into a deep frown.

“You’re always beautiful.”

Her jaw fell open as her brain refused to process the words sensibly on the first few attempts. Did he…?

As if realizing what he’d just said, his eyes widened in panic. “I mean, I…don’t freak out.”

Before she could respond, her mother’s voice came muffled through her door. “We’re cutting the cake now, honey.” Wincing at the poorly timed interruption, she turned and called back. “Ok. In a minute.”

By the time she returned her attention to Raphael, he was already partway out the window. Refusing to let the moment escape her, she dove for him and latched onto his arm. “Wait!”

He looked back at her in surprise and confusion.

“I…” Words failed her as nothing that came to mind sounded right. Screw the right words. Fully in the moment, blocking the past and all possible futures, she reached out with her right hand to cup the back of his head and pull in towards her.

He yielded willingly, still looking as though he had no idea what was going on. Giving in to something she’d wanted to do since he’d mentioned thinking she was cute at the yacht costume party where they’d met so long ago, she pressed her mouth to his and lost herself in the sensation of the kiss as her left arm intertwined with her right around the back of his neck.

After a brief instant of stiff shock, he melted against her, arms hooking around her waist, pulling her flush against him as he returned the kiss with enthusiasm.

An annoying ringing noise pulled her back to reality and Raphael released her lips with a groan as he rested his head on her shoulder and pulled out his phone. “The world had better be ending.”

With her cheek pressed against his head, she could hear Leonardo’s voice through the speaker. “It might. Donatello was able to track the reactor’s signature and it’s active. We need to move out now. Meet us on the Queensboro bridge. The Shredder’s probably bringing the Technodrome up through the East river.”

Raphael sighed. “I’ll be there.” With the press of a button he ended the call and pulled back to look her in the eyes.

The moment she heard the words ‘Shredder’ and ‘Technodrome’ she knew he was off to do something dangerous to protect them all and had never wished so badly that she could go with him and help. But what could she do as a delicate little human?

His expression looked genuinely torn. “I have to go…”

She nodded. “I know.” Reaching up, she caught his cheeks in her hands. “But afterwards, I expect you to come back to me.”

She pulled him close again and locked her mouth to his, trying put everything she was feeling into their kiss. Moaning into her, he pressed her back against the wall, not breaking off the contact until they were both breathless and gasping for air.

“Count on it.” His voice sounded rough and husky as he whispered into her ear and then he was gone, a slight breeze ruffling her curtains was the only evidence of his presence.

Weak and shaking, but happier than she could ever recall being, she turned with the intention of wobbling over to her bed for support. That’s when she saw Monroe standing in her open doorway, eyes bulging, jaw hanging loose, reminding her a bit of a fish, stunned to find itself out of water.

They were frozen in that tableau for a moment before her little brother found his voice. “Mom wanted you to come out for cake.”

Cheeks burning, she could feel her fists balling up at her sides. “How long were you standing there?”

His cheeks flamed red and he looked away. “Long enough. Something you need to tell the rest of us?”

His abrupt return to sullen indignance was the last straw of what had been an emotional roller coaster in the last ten minutes. “Yes. I’m friends with the Ninja Turtles and have been since they helped me take down Filch. More than friends with Raphael. I belong out there with them, not here, playing at being human.”

He blinked at her in shock. “Playing at being human?”

She didn’t get a chance to answer. A sharp, intense pain in her side stole her breath and the next thing she knew she was doubled over in agony. The fire in her abdomen spread to the rest of her body causing her to feel as though she were burning alive from the inside out. She was barely aware of falling to the ground or her brother yelling her name.

When the pain finally subsided, she realized that she was lying on her back on the carpet with Monroe cradling her head in his lap. Reaching up to rub her face, she gasped at the scaly sensation beneath her fingertips. Holding her hand out in front of her, she could see that she was now sporting four green digits.

“The antimutagen must have worn off.” Her words sounded mumbled and distant to her own ears. Forcing her body upright, she saw that her pink dress and shoes were in tattered ruins all around her, no longer able to fit her mutant body. Her earrings had simply fallen off with no ears to hold them and her wrist bangles were too tight, no longer fitting her more muscled arms. Wincing in pain, she pried them off and tossed them to the ground beside her.

“Mona Lisa?” Hearing her brother’s voice quickly brought the situation home to her.
Worried that he was moments away from screaming and fainting, she drew her knees to her chest and looked away. “I didn’t want you to know.”

He swallowed hard, his eyes still wide with disbelief. “How long have you been this way?”

Still refusing to look directly at him, she answered. “Since shortly after Filch got me. Now you know why I couldn’t come home. The Turtles took me in after we stopped him.”

To her surprise, her brother wrapped his arms around her. “You could have told me.”

Fighting back tears, she leaned her head against his. “I wish I had. It’s just like Tyler said. My own expectations have been screwing everything up.”

Monroe barked out a laugh. “Did you just say Tyler was right? Now I know the world is ending.”

World ending? The Turtles! Raphael! She could finally do something useful again!

Pulling out of Monroe’s grasp, she jumped to her feet and rushed to her closet, digging around for the old belt and pink neckerchief she’d originally brought home with her.

“What are you doing?” At the sound of her brother’s voice, she turned to face him as she buckled the belt in place.

“The city is in peril and I can help the Turtles save it.” She hurried over to her dresser, pulling out her headband and tossing it down as she tied her hair back in ponytail.

“So what, you’re a superhero now?”

She smiled and looked over at him. “I’ve have been for a while.”

Tying the neckerchief in place, she felt her necklace, still dangling around her throat. It didn’t belong in battle. Unlatching it, she removed it and set it gently atop her dresser.

“You’re not coming back are you?”

Her heart sank at Monroe’s stricken expression. “No. I’m not meant to be here anymore. I need to be out there keeping the world safe for everyone. For you.”

He looked away, his expression bitter.

“But I’m not losing touch this time. After we win this tonight, because we are going to win, I’ll let you know where I’ve been living and maybe you could come visit me.”

He looked back at her in surprise, his eyes lighting up. “Really?” She nodded. “Just because this is what I need to do now, doesn’t mean I’m missing out on any of the people I care about anymore.”

His expression turned earnest. “Promise?”

She smiled. “I promise. Tell mom, I’m sorry for skipping out on my own party.”

He laughed. “Sure, give me the hard job.”

She raised an eye ridge. “Someone’s gotta do it.”

He gave her a quick nod and started for the door, turning back just before he crossed the threshold. “Go kick some butt, sis.”

“You know it.” Feeling lighter than air, she all but flew out the window. She was finally who she was meant to be.

Leonardo paced impatiently across the top of the Queensboro bridge while Michelangelo lounged against one of the top metal supports playing paddle ball and Donatello was fiddling with a small electronic device, an array of small tools spread out in front of him.

“Where is he? The battle could begin any moment.”

“Well somebody’s got his shell in a bunch.”

They all looked up to see Raphael land atop the pinnacle of the bridge’s decorative support, grinning down at them with a confident cockiness they hadn’t seen in a while. Leonardo let out a breath of relief he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. Whatever Raphael had gone to do, obviously went well. Now he had his brother back and not a moment too soon.

Raphael jumped down to the platform on which the rest of them waited. “So have we got a plan or are we just gonna wing this, because I’m fine either way.”

Leonardo rolled his eyes at the return of Raphael’s flippant attitude. “We draw everyone else’s attention, while Donatello dismantles the Shredder’s reactor.”

Raphael snorted. “Well if that’s all…”

“I have some tools that might help.” Donatello interrupted.

Raphael raised an eye ridge. “Stuff you’re sure works or are we testing it out for you?”

Donatello smiled. “Both.” He held up a small, single-button remote control. “I’ve been working on these for a while, ever since the Shredder used Stockman’s tech to link up the Foot soldiers like Mousers so that they could work more collaboratively. The wireless connectivity, opens the door to using a debilitating jamming signal, if you know the right frequency. The Shredder will probably fix the security flaw after it’s revealed, meaning it’ll likely be a one-time use weapon, so I’ve been waiting for a special occasion.”

Raphael chuckled. “I guess the end of the world counts as the rainy day you’ve been saving them for.”

Donatello pulled out from his duffle bag, a white, egg-shaped object, about the size of a baseball. “These I specially designed for Krang’s rock soldiers. Just hit them with one of these babies and it should end the fight pretty quickly.”

Michelangelo reached for one and Donatello jerked it out of his grasp. “They aren’t edible.”

Michelangelo pouted. “Major bummer. They look like they’re made of mozzarella.”

Donatello shook his head. “Trust me, they aren’t, so unless you want to ruin your sense of taste for the next month or so, I suggest you contain your curiosity.”

“Okay, let’s gear up.” Leonardo retook control of the conversation and began distributing the remotes and projectiles as Donatello handed them over to him until he, Michelangelo and Raphael each had one of the former and several of the latter.

Raphael looked out from the top of the bridge. “I hope you waterproofed these if we’re supposed to be looking underwater for the massive alien base you guys insisted was going to be here.”

Donatello huffed. “Well of course they’re waterproof. We live in the sewers. I…”

Before he could finish, the bridge shook, nearly knocking the four of them off their feet and a massive whirlpool appeared in the river beside them.

“Never mind dudes. Looks like the party is coming to us.” Michelangelo pointed out.

“Thank you, Captain Obvious.” Raphael muttered in response as they watched the Technodrome rise up from the surface of the water.

Leonardo crouched at the edge of the platform. “It’s now or never. Team attack!” He leapt off the bridge towards the top of the Technodrome crying out “Turtle power!”

Raphael stifled a laugh. “Very stealthy.”

Donatello shrugged. “You guys are the distraction.”

“Cowabunga!” Michelangelo leapt down to follow the leader.

Raphael rolled his eyes. “Next time, it’s your turn to be expendable.” Then he turned and jumped into the fray.

The Shredder had been monitoring the Technodrome’s power levels, pleased with all the surplus energy waiting to be used as the base rose to the surface world when the security breach alarms began blaring.

“What’s going on?” Krang’s blubbery voice threatened to interrupt his focus as he called up the security cameras. Three of those wretched turtles were boldly invading his battle station. “Those blasted reptiles again? Throw everything at them. Wipe them off the face of this planet.”

Despite his first impulse, which annoyingly matched Krang’s reaction, he knew better. The three he could see were making no effort to hide their presence and the fourth was nowhere to be found. The missing one was the smart turtle. It didn’t take much guesswork to figure out where that one was going, but he didn’t want any irritating allies backing the interfering little nuisance up.

Activating his voice command for the Foot soldiers to send an order that would spread through the entire force once one knew what he wanted, he spoke through the intercom. “All nonessential units, destroy the intruders.”

Krang crossed his tentacles, tapping the ends in irritation. “You think your toy soldiers will be enough? They’ve failed before. I want you to handle this personally.”

Resisting the urge to jam his blades into the compartment containing the little pink blob, scrambling him into oblivion, he managed to respond in an almost neutral tone of voice. “I intend to. In the meantime, Granitor and Traag should guard the primary corridor to the control center.”

The rock soldiers shared a glance. “We do not take orders from you, only Lord Krang.”

Krang appeared to be rolling the idea thoughtfully through his mind. “Fine. You two go. Don’t let them get to me.”

General Traag and Sergeant Granitor bowed. “As you command, Lord Krang.”

“You wants us to do anything, boss?” Bebop asked hopefully and he sighed internally, wishing for the millionth time that he hadn’t turned a pair of idiots into his primary minions. Even Traag and Granitor had more tactical sense, which literally made the two mutants dumber than rocks.

“In case one or more of those turtles makes it into this room, you are to protect the weapons array at all costs.”

Rocksteady clapped gleefully. “Got it boss. You can count on us.”

Krang’s tentacles balled into tiny fists. “What about me?”

Shredder couldn’t help smiling behind his mask as he intentionally misunderstood the little alien. “You can defend the weapons array too. I don’t intend to lose it while I’m off shelling myself a meddlesome turtle.”

Donatello counted down the seconds for the time he estimated it would take his brothers’ entry to be detected. The whole Technodrome should’ve noticed their presence by now and would be reacting to it. In theory, he could now sneak in unnoticed.

Jumping down after his brothers, he carefully slipped through the entrance they’d already forced open. Once inside, he went straight for the nearest control panel.

Given their past experience with the Technodrome and their enemies’ limited options for customization without compromising the design, he had a general sense of the layout and some suspicions on where the Shredder would be most likely to construct his power source. Still, it didn’t hurt to be certain.

A cursory examination of the maintenance window revealed the lines of energy converging exactly where he thought they’d be. This mission was going to be a piece of cake.

As Raphael charged after Leonardo and Michelangelo through a seemingly empty hallway, he wondered if they even knew where they were going or if they actually had a destination in mind, since the object was clearly to make noise and get everyone to attack them.

After he’d used his sais to pry the lid off the top entrance for them get inside, he’d mostly just trailed along after his brothers. Sure the world was at stake with Shredder wanting to conquer it and crush away all hope and freedom with his iron fist rule, but stopping the megalomaniac kind of felt like an annoying chore that he needed to get done. There were other things he’d rather be doing right now and the Shredder’s schemes were cramping his style.

Where were all the enemies? He wanted to get this over with already.

Which naturally resulted in a reinforcing lesson of the old saying ‘be careful what you wish for.’

Foot soldiers beyond counting flooded the wide hallway both in front and behind them. Time to cross his fingers and hope Donatello’s confidence was well-founded. His brother’s untested, new toys could always be a little hit or miss. Following Leonardo’s lead, he and Michelangelo, clipped their remotes to their belts.

Here goes nothing.

He pressed the button and waited. Nothing happened. The Foot soldiers continued to advance. Leonardo shared a grim look with him and Michelangelo before drawing his swords. Pulling out his sais, Raphael hoped that whatever Donatello needed to do, he could do it fast because they weren’t going to last against these odds.

“Turtle power!” Leonardo charged head on to the soldiers approaching from the front while Raphael turned to guard against the ones approaching from the rear and Michelangelo seemed to be bouncing everywhere at once, his nunchucks spinning in robot-shattering arcs.

Raphael didn’t mind a good fight. He took pride in his skill and its use, maybe a little too much as he couldn’t seem to help taunting the many enemies they faced that simply weren’t as good. But this was just exhausting and tedious.

Yes, the Foot soldiers didn’t have the skill to outdo him and his sais were efficiently taking the Shredder’s toys apart, but for each one that fell, two more seemed to take its place. This was endless and he would tire eventually. Leonardo would need to call a retreat soon or they were going to be overwhelmed.

Then he made a misstep and one soldier got past his guard, plowing a steel fist into his chest and knocking him off balanced. The rest took the opportunity to swarm him. No chance for defense now. He cringed and waited for the blows to begin raining down on him.

But they never came. Cautiously opening the eyes he’d been squeezing shut, he was surprised to see all the Foot soldiers around him frozen in place, twitching and sparking.

Shoving his way out of the cluster around him, letting them fall like broken dolls as he knocked into them, he sought out Leonardo and Michelangelo. His brothers were grinning in exhausted relief as their opponents were similarly deactivated.

Michelangelo surveyed the scene, nudging a nearby soldier with one of his nunchucks to watch it topple. “Whoa dudes, Donatello really needs to work on the timing of these.”

Raphael laughed. “Better late than never.”

Leonardo sheathed his swords. “We need to keep moving.”

The heady relief faded into plain old exhaustion as Raphael sighed. “Because there is somewhere we actually need to be?”

Leonardo frowned. “Because our enemies need to think that. Besides, it will help if we can cause as much critical damage as possible.”

Michelangelo grinned. “Well let’s start breaking stuff, then.”

Mona Lisa had been planning on heading towards the bridge and deciding on her next move from there, but as she came closer to her destination, it became fairly obvious what needed to be done. The Technodrome was right there hovering on the surface of the water. And one of the entrance hatches at the top had already been broken open, a better invitation than she could have asked for.

Several graceful leaps later, she was lowering herself through it and into the heart of the enemy stronghold. A quick examination of her surroundings soon led her to a control panel that had already been hacked by Donatello. Fortunately for her, he’d left it open, clearly more interested in moving fast than covering his presence.

She sifted through a few systems before tapping into the security cameras. Most feeds were redirected to focus on Leonardo, Michelangelo and Raphael, charging their way deeper into the Technodrome.

Her heart rate sped up and her stomach did a little flip flop upon catching sight of Raphael and she immediately wanted to rush to his side, but it didn’t appear that her assistance was immediately necessary. Somehow, as they went, the Foot soldiers fell like rag dolls whenever they got too close and all the automated laser turrets seemed to glitch and fail whenever they tried locking onto to any of her friends. She should really be checking into what Donatello was up to.

Sighing in disappointment, she kept searching, scanning the source feeds of the camera system running in the background behind the prioritized alerts. She eventually discovered the missing turtle in a large room at the center of the Technodrome, his duffle bag at his side, tools spread out around him as he worked to safely deactivate what appeared to be a highly experimental and dangerous reactor system. He seemed to have things under control too.

She kind of found that disappointing. Unsure of what else to do, she started closing out the video feeds until she caught sight of one that stopped her in her tracks. It was the Shredder. And he has heading straight for Donatello. She needed to get there pronto.

Donatello was completely focused on what he was doing, systematically shutting down the reactor, careful not to trigger an uncontrolled chain reaction or ignite the custom-made hydrogen-based fuel that the Shredder had created to power his mini-sun.

Once it was safely shut down, he could sabotage the most crucial and difficult to replace place pieces to ensure that their enemies couldn’t easily get it back up and running again. There were a few parts the would be very hard to reacquire, especially now that he knew what to keep an eye on to prevent the Shredder from swiping what he needed in the future.

One minute he was hard at work, undoing the delicate systems in front of him, the next a hand clamped down on his shell, throwing him backwards into a metal wall hard enough to see stars bursting in his vision. It cleared just in time for him to see the Shredder pulling out a blaster, one he hadn’t dared fire while Donatello had been beside the reactor, and aim it at him.

Throwing himself aside, he narrowly dodged a series of laser blasts, briefly wondering if the Shredder was missing on purpose. But why?

The answer came after he’d fully committed to his most recent rolling dodge to avoid what would have been a nasty blast to his leg. Anticipating Donatello’s trajectory, the Shredder fired into the large, heavily filled shelves above him, taking out the supports.

He could only curl up and shield his head as tumbled straight into the waterfall of industrial debris, slamming him to the ground and burying him. Reaching for his communicator, one of the few things he wasn’t too pinned to do, he activated the emergency beacon built into the device, knowing full well that there was no way help could arrive in time to save him.

Fluttering his eyes open as he struggled to stay conscious, he could see the Shredder, smugly taking his time, aiming the weapon at his head, before his vision went fuzzy and his awareness slipped away.

Leonardo followed the too familiar route to where the Technodrome’s control center should be, skidding to a halt and leaping back as a line of fire from General Traag and Sergeant Granitor lit up the area just in front of him. Apparently Krang’s rock soldiers were not tapped into the Shredder’s universal security system that Donatello’s devices fried at every turn.

Shoving his brothers back behind a corner as he ducked another laser blast, they pressed themselves back against the wall.

“Total unwelcoming party, dudes.” Michelangelo gasped.

Raphael huffed out a laugh. “What were you expecting, the VIP treatment?”

Michelangelo shrugged. “Would’ve been nice.”

Raphael shook his head and turned back to Leonardo. “So any plans for pegging these guys without getting lit up, because I would prefer not to end up turtle flambé.”

“Mondo agreement with that.” Michelangelo chimed in.

Leonardo paused for a moment, considering the situation. “Ok, I’ve got it. I’m going to dive over to the other side of the hallway opening. When I give the signal, I need Raphael to run in and across at a diagonal towards the rock soldiers.”

Raphael crossed his arms. “You did hear when I said I wasn’t interested in getting fried, right?”

“Getting to them isn’t important. Focus on dodging and don’t lose their attention.”

“Like that will be a problem.” Raphael muttered.

Leonardo ignored the unsolicited commentary and kept going. “Once Raphael moves out, Michelangelo will come out and unleash on them.”

“Hey, why does he get to attack while I’m playing decoy?” Raphael asked indignantly.

Leonardo sighed. “Who always wins the water balloon fights?”

Raphael huffed. “Point taken.”

“Good. Let’s do this.”

Leonardo didn’t wait for a response, before throwing himself across the hallway as Traag and Granitor let loose another barrage of laser blasts, exploding all around him. Rolling to a stop on the other side and taking a second to catch his breath, he caught Raphael’s eye, seeing him crouched and waiting on the other side.

With a nod, he ran out into the fray again, this time with Raphael shooting out from the other direction at the same time. As they each darted through crosswise, confusing their opponents with a mix of opposing targets, Michelangelo jumped out into the middle and pegged both rock soldiers with Donatello’s custom projectiles.

On impact, each one exploded into a thick cloud of white, marshmallow-like fluff. When the dust settled, Traag and Granitor appeared buried up to their necks, each in his own sticky, white mound, barely able to move before the elastic substance jerked them back into place.

Traag tried firing and the mound holding him, momentarily expanded like a balloon before snapping back and ramming all the force into Traag’s trapped body. Donatello had come through again with a perfect trap for the otherwise seemingly-indestructible warriors from Dimension X. Being relatively impervious to harm wouldn’t get them free any faster.

“Looks like someone’s found themselves in a sticky situation.” Raphael laughed as Michelangelo poked Granitor’s mound.

“Dude I could totally go for some s’more pizza right about now.”

Leonardo smiled. “When we get home. Right now, we have a control center to take apart.”

Mona Lisa made it the reactor room, just in time to see the Shredder using Donatello for target practice. Not good. She needed to do something. But what? The Shredder had her at as much of a disadvantage as Donatello. Only the element of surprise was on her side.

Scanning the room, she noticed something that made her eyes light up. Perfect.

Willing Donatello to hang on just a little bit longer, she crept into the room, keeping the Shredder’s back to her as she slunk around the far side of the reactor. Once she reached her goal, her breath caught in her throat as she saw the Shredder take aim at a now pinned and unconscious Donatello in front of him. Now or never.

Slamming her palm into the nearby button, she opened one of the nuclear reactor vents, positioned just above the Shredder’s head, grateful that he hadn’t had either the time or incentive to manage the safety measures properly.

Dropping his blaster, he howled in pain as the radioactive heat poured down on him. Realizing immediately what must have happened, the Shredder fled the room, probably to get the radioactive exposure cleaned off of his body as best he could before the damage became irreversible.

Now the whole room was technically contaminated, but that was a risk she’d have to take. Rushing to Donatello’s side, she quickly unburied him, gently laying him on his shell. Other than a possible concussion and some bruising, he seemed ok. But he was in no state to finish his task.

Eyes roaming over the reactor, unfamiliar as it was, she could make sense of how it worked. Yes. She could figure it out. The mission wasn’t a failure yet. She had this.

The doors to the control center opened with a hiss and Leonardo led the charge into the room. Rocksteady and Bebop jumped to attention and Krang, in his exosuit, spun away from a control panel.

“You loathsome reptiles again? Get them!”

Rocksteady and Bebop cracked their knuckles as they readied for the fight and Leonardo circled the edge of the room, positioning himself strategically, using hand signals to indicate his brothers take similar action.

“What are you waiting for horn head, some brain cells to sprout, because if that’s the case, we’re going to be here a while.” At the sound of Raphael’s taunt, Rocksteady turned towards him and charged.

Meanwhile, Michelangelo caught Bebop’s attention. “Dude, did you get even uglier?” The warthog roared and took a running swing at the source of the insult. In both cases, Raphael and Michelangelo either side stepped or ducked, leaving Rocksteady to bury his head in one console while Bebop put a fist through another.

“You idiots! Destroy the turtles, not my Technodrome!” Krang howled.

Raising his mechanical arm, a blaster opened up from just behind his wrist and he took aim at Leonardo, who flipped out of the way. The energy blasts flew into the wall of electronics behind him. “No! My weapons array! My beautiful weapons! Get them! Get them all!”

Rocksteady tugged his head out of the computer guts it was buried in and searched for his target. “I’m comin for you toitles!”

“Yeah, you’re gonna get it now.” Bebop chimed in as he yanked his fist free.

Meanwhile, Krang reached out to grab Leonardo, who ducked his hands and rammed his sword through the android’s computerized chest, pinning him to the control panel behind him. Electricity sparked from it, overtaking the whole wall which was mostly made up of a large screen which came suddenly to life. Leonardo rolled back and away from what appeared to be an opening portal.

“No! No! No!” Krang cried out as the screen stretched out in the form of viscous hands grabbing him and pulling him in.

Michelangelo and Raphael darted into the middle of the room, dropping into slides to trip each other’s opponents, sending Rocksteady and Bebop tumbling forward into the open portal.

“Let’s make turtle tracks!” He called out, gesturing towards the door. Michelangelo complied immediately, but Raphael paused before lobbing his complete set of sticky grenades at the edges of the portal wall, temporarily sealing it in a layer of white goo.

“Not bad.” Leonardo complimented with a smile.

Raphael grinned. “What? I get ideas too sometimes.”

“Uh, dudes, mondo problemo.” Michelangelo held out his phone, showing off Donatello’s distress signal.

Leonardo’s mouth compressed into a thin line. “I know where he expected to go. Follow me.”

Mona Lisa admired her handiwork. The reactor was ruined beyond repair with its most essential components completely destroyed. Drained, she sagged against the contraption, grateful that the threat was over. Now she needed to figure out a way to get Donatello back to his brothers. It would sure be a lot easier if he’d wake up.

As if he’d heard her thoughts, Donatello groaned and began to stir. Before she could move to assist him, the other three turtles burst into the room and surrounded him.

“Donatello!”

“Are you ok?”

“Dude, your bombs gave me a major case of the munchies. Can we go home and get something to eat?”

Leonardo looked over at the reactor, unable to see her through the veil of ruined technology that shielded her from view. “It sure looks broken.”

“Great job, Donatello. We’re done then, right?” Raphael clapped a hand on his brother’s shoulder as Donatello gazed at the remains of the reactor in puzzlement.

“But I didn’t do it. The Shredder showed up and stopped me.”

She watched as Raphael stared at Donatello in confusion. “But if you didn’t take it apart, then who…?”

She pushed off the reactor and out into view. “You do remember that nuclear physics is my specialty, right?”

At the sound of her voice, his head snapped towards her and his jaw fell open in shock. “Mona Lisa?”

She felt the slightest twinge of worry that she might not be as pretty now, but it was quickly alleviated when he ran to her, scooped her up by the waist and twirled her around.

Gasping in shock, she clung tightly to his torso until he set her down. Momentarily releasing him, she wobbled a bit as her brain struggled for equilibrium. Then he clasped one hand around the back of her neck and pressed the other to the small of her back between her belt and the base of her tail, drawing her in.

When his lips connected with hers, she’d swear she felt electricity shooting through her nervous system, lighting up all her nerve endings with pleasant tingles. As though it had a mind of its own, she felt her tail wrapping around his midsection and twining down one of his legs. Hooking her arms under his to reach up and grip his shoulders, she pulled herself closer until she was pressed tightly against him as she melted into the deepening kiss.

Behind her, Leonardo cleared his throat, dragging her back to reality. Grateful her lizard skin didn’t show her blush, she pulled back sheepishly, though Raphael, grinning madly, didn’t completely relinquish his hold.

Leonardo was studiously looking anywhere but at them. But Michelangelo wasn’t shy, wearing his best ‘aww, that’s cute’ expression.

Leonardo shifted uncomfortably, “so, uh, I guess you guys are…”

“Together!” Michelangelo enthusiastically finished for him. “It’s about time. I totally thought you guys were gonna dance around each other forever.”

As Raphael rolled his eyes at his brother, it occurred to Mona Lisa to wonder at Donatello’s reaction to their very public announcement of their new status. She scanned the room to find Donatello, by the reactor, removing and collecting pieces into an old duffle bag.

Leonardo followed her gaze and groaned. “You know we need to return that, right?”

Donatello didn’t even look up. “It’s all radioactively contaminated. We can’t safely return it.”

They all immediately took a step back away from him and his collection. “So naturally you want to bring it all home with us.” Raphael muttered.

“Dude, as awesome as the idea of glowing pizza is, I think I’m already as mutated as I want to be.” Michelangelo added.

“Isn’t there some kind of decontamination process, people can use on them?” Leonardo questioned, eyeing Donatello’s bag cautiously.

“Not as thorough as mine. They won’t be able to make it safe, like I can. Don’t worry, I’ll put them to good use. Humans would just be forced to throw it away, and by that I mean store it in a facility approved to contain radioactive waste for several decades. Although we all might want to take some potassium iodide as soon as possible to mitigate the damage from our radiation exposure.”

Mona Lisa threaded her fingers through Raphael’s. “Let’s go home.”

His eyes lit up as he looked at her. “Home?”

She nodded.

His face split with a smile. “Home sounds great.”

Chapter Text

Epilogue:

“Did you even have an exit strategy when you blew up his ship?” Monroe laughed, shaking his head as he asked.

Mona Lisa grinned at her little brother. “No, but I’m good at improvising. Besides, I had to act fast if I wanted to take Filch down. There was no time for planning little details.”

“Like your escape?” He responded rolling his eyes. His phone dinged and he looked down at it in annoyance. “This is the fifth text in as many minutes. Seriously, mom is smothering me.”

She began packing his homework and textbooks into his backpack. “You know she’s only freaking because she worries about you being out after dark.”

He huffed. “I suppose it’s better than her freaking out over you being a mutant.”

She sighed. “I think it’s more my vigilante lifestyle than the scales and tail that bother her, but she’ll get used to it. Maybe.”

He shrugged. “At least Tyler approves of her your new look.”

She choked on a snort of laughter at the memory of her artistic, older brother. “I guess that ‘more interesting now’ could be interpreted that way.” She handed his pack over to him and he reluctantly took it. “You’d better get a move on before mom sends out a search party. Wouldn’t want to end up as April’s next human interest story.”

Returning a fake scowl, he stood and started for the door, pausing for a moment to call back to her. “See you tomorrow after school.”

She smiled. “Wouldn’t miss it.”

As he disappeared into the tunnels, her phone pinged. It was Taylor, asking if she was available to hang.

Not tonight. Got plans. Tomorrow?

The response was nearly instantaneous.

Bet I know with who. ;) Talk to you tomorrow.

She couldn’t help shaking her head at her friend’s inference. With any luck, Taylor would finally find someone who stuck and she could start giving back as good as she got.

“Someone’s popular tonight.”

Her face split into a wide smile at the sound of the familiar voice. “You could have joined in any time you wanted.”

Raphael stepped out of a darkened tunnel into the light of her lair. “And have to waste some of my attention on other people? Nah.”

She rolled her eyes, though her heart sped up. Would that ever stop happening? She didn’t think she wanted it to.

Hopping to her feet to cover that he’d flustered her, she sauntered over to him, curling her tail around his calf as she provocatively stopped with her snout just short of his beak. “You’re all geared up. I take it, this isn’t just a social call.”

He sighed dramatically. “Much as I would love that, sadly nope. Donatello’s ruining everyone’s personal time with his surveillance of the city. He’s noticed some weird stuff going on and now Leonardo’s having us split up and check it out. If you’re free, I could use some back up.”

A thrill shot up her spine as it did every time she had a mission. How could it have possibly taken her so long to find her true calling? “I’ll have to check my calendar, but I think I can pencil you in.”

He chuckled, slipped away from her and darted out of her lair.

With a sly grin, she took off after him, not catching up until he was almost atop the building closest to the nearest exit from her dwelling. Flipping off the top of the fire escape railing, she bowled him over, knocking him prone on his shell as she straddled his chest. “Gotcha.”

“A new record.”

Stepping off him, she reached out a hand to pull him up. “Way easier now that I’m not human.”

He frowned slightly. “Was it that bad?”

Her nose scrunched up. “It was a disaster. Everyone was trying so hard, even me, and it just wasn’t working. I guess that’s what happens when you try and force yourself into being who you think you should be, instead of who you are.”

He winced. “Sorry. I thought that’s what you wanted. Guess I kind of screwed that up.”

She shook her head. “It’s what I thought I wanted to. Besides, I think it’s what I needed.”

His brow furrowed in confusion. “But…”

Tracing a hand along his cheek, she lifted his chin, so that his eyes met hers. “It was a mistake I had to make in order to understand.”

“Understand what?”

She smiled, running her fingers along the edge of his mask. “Who I want to be. Where I belong. Who I want to belong with.”

His expression smoothed into one of relief and he leaned his forehead against hers. “Best mistake ever.”

A loud boom, emanating from somewhere below, caught their attention and they hurried to the ledge to see odd, purple smoke pouring out of every window of a multi-story, store building.

He looked over at her with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Ready to save the city?”

She could feel a smile spreading across her face. “With you? Anytime.”