Chapter Text
The living room was dark. Even the TV had long since been turned off, controllers hastily tossed to the side. One was sitting in the center of the table, the other precariously balanced on the edge. Even the slightest breeze sent it teetering. The darkness was oppressive with no windows to allow the slightest bit of light from the world in.
A shadow, just barely darker than the room surrounding it, shifted in the far side of the room. To the untrained eye it wouldn’t have been noticeable, but there were three others hidden within who were watching and waiting. One such shadow was huddled in an overlook that had likely once been used as a security post. Many of the windows had been removed and the sills padded with blankets and foam to create soft resting spots.
One of those spots was currently supporting a long plastic gun, a rubber tipped foam bullet ready to fire. A smile twitched across his features as the gun moved slowly, keeping the shadow in the sight.
“I’ve got him in my sight,” he muttered into the com settled in the red and blue lens goggles resting over his eyes. “We’re dealing with some real disgusting freaks tonight.”
A deep, rumbling chuckle came over the line, but otherwise there was nothing.
When the shadow moved again he could have sworn he could hear wind moving in the still room. The controller that had been teetering on the edge of the table clattered to the floor. In the same instant the foam dart that had been waiting in the long rifle was loosed. He hadn’t been fast enough. It clipped the edge of fluttering fabric as the shadow ducked behind the couch, hitting the wall with a smack.
“Did ya get ‘im?” the low voice sounded in his ear.
“No.” Came the rather annoyed retort. “He’s behind the couch. I can’t-”
“Behind ya!” The voice was too loud in his ear. It had him flinching to the side just in time to see the flash of white eyes behind him.
He scrambled out of the window, toy in one hand and the other gripping the railing of the overlook. The white eyed figure approached, short bandana tails bobbing as he came closer. He held the toy gun inches from his face.
“Y’can’t hang there forever Donnie,” Mikey’s wide smile was bright even in the dark.
“You hit me right now, I will bite you.”
For his part the youngest at least pretended to think about it. “So… you’re asking me to go against my very need for immediate gratification so you can pretend to make good on an empty threat?”
“I’ll tell you where Raph’s hiding.”
“RUDE!” The hiss crackled in his ear.
“Wow, I knew you were low on empathy, but selling out your own brother?” Mikey teased, pulling the trigger only to have Donnie drop to the floor unscathed. “You little shit! Get back here!”
“Language!” The rough voice snapped from the doorway on the other side of the room, just barely hidden under the overlook.
“Found Raph,” Mikey chirped happily just before launching himself over the gaping hole between the two railings.
Donnie rolled his eyes, hopping to his feet only to see his original target moving toward Raph’s last known location. That couldn’t be let to stand. While he’d originally agreed to give his team mate’s position to their youngest brother he never intended it to go to his twin. He tucked himself behind the beanbags Mikey often draped himself across and waited. In his haste to get into position he’d lost sight of not only Leo, but Raph as well.
Neither of them were where he’d been expecting and now he was lost. Even if goggles weren’t picking up their heat signatures. He was laying on the ground, his rifle between two beanbags, shell completely exposed with no idea where anyone was. He resisted the urge to scramble to the nearest wall. That would only give his position away if they didn’t already know where he was. He should move, he knew that, but if he moved when someone was watching he was going to get caught.
A gentle, three fingered hand splayed over his leathery shell effectively snapping him out of his thoughts. He looked up to see the long red crescent moons half hidden by a bandana.
“You’re thinking too much,” Leo’s voice only held a hint of teasing. “Seriously, get out of your head and just do.”
“You’re not going to shoot me?” Donnie asked.
“Nah, I promised Mikey I’d let him have the honor,” a serious expression flashed over his face as he looked out over the lifeless room. “Raph though? He’s mine. He stole my pizza bagel.”
“That was two months ago.”
“Never forgive, never forget.” Leo muttered before melting into the shadows.
Donnie kept track of his movements for a moment, but if Leo wasn’t going to attack him he had no reason to keep tabs on him. It was one less thing he had to worry about. Worrying about Mikey was bad enough. While the goggles helped his brothers knew he had them. They weren’t really the advantage they had been the first time they played. Mikey had a competitive streak a mile wide. It wasn’t exactly comforting that the youngest had chosen him as a target. He needed to move. If Leo could find him Mikey absolutely could.
Donnie sat up, turning around just in time to see the smallest turtle standing a few feet back with his arm raised. The dart landed in the beanbag as Donnie scrambled to his feet. His weapon of choice wasn’t exactly meant to be held and fired, but he got a quick shot off in Mikey’s direction. It didn’t land, but it had the younger turtle leaping to the side, rolling before popping back to his feet.
For his part, the soft shelled turtle was on the move as well. His feet made only the softest sounds as he ran for better cover. It was still too loud. If he could hear his footsteps, everyone else could too. He dove between the rolling chair and the computer desk. There was just enough space for him to wriggle in without making too much noise. The chair should give him some cover and- he felt the dark smack against his plastron before he had the chance to finish his thought.
“GOT ‘EEM!” Mikey shouted, hopping onto the chair.
Curse Mikey and his impeccable shot.
“Can I get my coffee now?” Donnie asked, pushing the chair out and sending the still cheering Mikey tumbling to the floor with a squeak.
“Sore loser,” Mikey mumbled, though he flashed his brother a smile to show he wasn’t actually upset. “Dee’s out! I’m coming for you two next!”
Donnie made his way to the kitchen, happy to finally be able to have a cup of the coffee that had been calling his name since he’d rolled out of bed. He didn’t turn the lights on in the kitchen, allowing muscle memory and his goggles to guide him to his reward. And what a reward it was. He hummed when the first hint of caffeine finally hit his system. With a flick of his wrist his goggles were seated atop his head as he allowed his eyes to adjust to the blessed darkness.
Donnie was simultaneously the easiest one to get out and the one who needed to be out first. Donnie’s weapon was meant for long range fighting and took a few seconds longer to reload than the smaller weapons Mikey and the two remaining turtles carried. It was the goggles that made Donnie dangerous. Now that he was out of play Mikey could see his brother lurking at the kitchen door, still watching. Probably waiting to see who would be out next.
He wouldn’t interfere, Mikey knew that, but it was still something to keep in mind as the game continued. Mikey had always been best at the ‘hide’ part of hide and seek.
“C’mon Leo,” Raph’s voice bounced from the wall closest to Mikey.
It took everything in his power to stop himself from flinching. He knew the snapping turtle could throw his voice, but it still got him every. Single. TIME. Mikey resisted the urge to growl as he tucked himself against the wall. His rough shell making no noise even as it came in contact with the stone walls of their home.
“We both know it’s gonna take both of us to find Mikey,” Raph’s voice came from the opposite side of the room. “Then we’ll be on an even playing field.”
Mikey let out a small breath, scanning the open room before him. It wasn’t as open as Leo and Donnie claimed. There were a thousand placed to hide, he was just at an advantage when it came to finding them. He was the smallest of the four of them. Not only because he was mutated with the smallest turtle, but the youngest. He could slip under the coffee table without being noticed. He’d even fit himself in the shelves under the TV once. That was still listed in his top five best hiding spots.
That being said Raph and Leo had been training just as long as he had. They might not have had size to their advantage, but it meant they’d had to get good. He needed to be smart about this if he was going to keep his title as reigning champ.
Leo was a blur of movement, standing in front of a large shadow that had been still for some long Mikey hadn’t considered it might be their older brother.
“Nice try Raphie,” Leo flicked his long bandana tales over his shoulder.
“I’m serious Leo,” Raph said, standing to his full height, towering over Leo. “Alone neither of us can take Mikey.”
“I hear what you’re saying, but have you considered, I won’t hesitate bi-”
Before Leo could finish the dull plat of a dart hitting his shell stopped him.
“Language!” Mikey cackled, diving for cover and army crawling until he was far enough away that Raph wouldn’t be able to figure out where he’d gone.
“Hesitated a bit too long, little brother,” Raph teased, gently pushing Leo to the side.
Leo patted Raph’s spikey arm before heading to the kitchen himself. “Maybe he’ll get Mikey and we’ll get a breakfast that doesn’t involve listening to Mikey brag about being reigning champ.”
“Says the turtle who’s never lost a game of air hockey, or HORSE, or-”
Leo rolled his eyes, shouldering Donnie as he passed. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. You usually last longer than that too. Where’s your competitive spirit today?”
“It’s sitting at the bottom of this pot of coffee.”
“The whole pot?!”
“I haven’t drank it yet, calm down.”
“You’re going to give yourself a myocardial infarction.”
“Wow, so impressive, look at that, it’s the one smart people term you know.”
Mikey rolled his eyes as the twins’ lighthearted bickering faded to the background. He couldn’t focus on it right now. He still had a game to win. Raph was large, but he moved far more quietly than he had any right to. Seriously, at times like this Mikey was anything but grateful for it. If they were topside it was a different story. More than once they’d used Raph as a safe place to land because he was the best at figuring out exactly which half rotted boards were going to creak underfoot.
Mikey reloaded his gun as quietly as he could. He swore Donnie had picked these because they were the cheapest and loudest things to reload. The plastic clicked and clacked into place as he fitted another dart into the chamber. He caught the flash of movement out of the corner of his eye, ducking just in time to feel the air of a whizzing dart pass over his head.
By the time he was scrambling to his feet Raph had already moved, and by the sounds of it, reloaded. That was fine. Mikey lowered himself to a crouch, crawling along the floor to keep himself within the darker shadows. Anything to keep his bright orange bandana and the yellow-orange markings of his shell hidden. He pressed his shell against the back of the couch. At least this way if someone was trying to sneak up on him they’d have to come over or around the large piece of furniture. It was the best place to hide if he didn’t know what direction the enemy was in.
He smirked to himself, thinking of Raph as the enemy was truly something else. Despite Raph’s size and a temper that was quick to flare, he’d never hurt any of them. Even when they were smaller, he was always the first one to take it easy when it came to Donnie’s shell or be careful not to use too much pressure when he’d first sparred against Mikey. Most of the time, Raph wasn’t the enemy. But Mikey had a title to keep and his big brother was not about to get in his way!
Mikey closed his eyes, just like Leo had been teaching him. Taking a small breath he listened and focused. He could hear the ice clinking out of the maker into the bucket in the freezer. He could hear Donnie and Leo muttering about breakfast. He could hear the gentle scraping of Splinter’s claws and tail against his sleeping mat. Signaling he was on his way to waking up and they needed to end this game soon.
Then he heard it. The telltale sound of Raph’s shell scraping against the wall. It wasn’t much, if they’d been topside it would have easily been mistaken for the breeze. Unfortunately for Raph, they were in the lair. Where even the subway trains rumbling above them weren’t enough to distract Mikey when he set his mind to winning.
Mikey stood, with a speed only he could possess, raised his toy gun, and fired. The dart struck Raph in the center of his plastron. The only warning he had was the flash of white and orange from the toy. It didn’t give him enough time to even attempt to dodge out of the way.
“Yes!” Mikey exclaimed, hopping onto the back of the couch. “I remain the reigning champ of Nerf Wars!”
Raph clapped him on the shell as he passed, nearly sending the celebrating turtle tumbling into the cushions below.
“Cool, so I’m turning on the lights now, this is everyone’s warning.” Leo gave everyone three seconds to shield their eyes before the lights in the lair flickered on.
Splinter was used to being woken by his sons. When they were younger it had been from nightmares. Some given to them by their first night being who they were now. A fiery welcome to the world was something that would leave a scar on even the youngest minds. As they got older the nightmares either lessened or they’d stopped coming to him. He hoped it was the former.
Now he was far more likely to be woken by the sounds of shrill laughter from the living room when one of them forgot he was asleep. Or when one of them became too focused on something they were speaking about and found volume too difficult to control. Most of the time he didn’t mind. He often slept at odd hours after taking the form of a rat. Whether that was because there were still times where he didn’t feel safe or because he simply had four teenage boys running around he wasn’t certain.
Times like this, he knew exactly why he woke. Smoke filled his senses, the acrid smell bringing with it memories he tried to bury. His half asleep mind conjured visions of flames licking at his feet, but the overbearing fear wasn’t for him. His sons were out there. He needed to get them out. The door to his room flew open as he rushed into the thick clouds.
Splinter dropped to all fours, scrambling through the thick smoke as the loud thrum of industrial fans rumbled through the lair. Leonardo and Michelangelo were coughing and waving their hands before their faces as the smoke cleared. Raphael and Donatello, having been the two to rush to the fans on either side of their home, were slowly making their way into the open living area.
“Sorry, Dad,” the snapping turtle rubbed the back of his neck. “Didn’t mean to wake ya.”
Splinter shook his head, his small hand patting his eldest’s much larger one. “It’s alright, Raphael. I’m glad you boys are alright.”
“Yeah, we’re fine.” Donnie drawled, crossing his arms as he glared at his supposed twin “ Someone just doesn’t know how to make a pancake to save his life.”
“I like the ones with the crispy edges!” Leo protested. “Sue me!”
“I’d love to! Let me just contact my ghost lawyer since we’d both be dead!”
“I bet I’d make a pretty good lawyer,” Mikey said with a cough.
Donnie sighed, shooting the box turtle a half amused look. “You’d probably make a terrifying one. Using people’s emotions against them. Together we could easily take down Raph and Leo. Me with logic you with the…” he made a vague gesture with his hand. “Gooey stuff.”
“I’m gonna go wash my eyes out.”
“That isn’t going to erase the image of what you’ve done to this poor pancake.”
“You’ve murder him, Leo!” Mikey added, draping himself over the counter dramatically for good measure. “He had a family.”
“Someone play Despacito.”
Leo gasped, raising his hand to his plastron. “Betrayed by my own family. How could you. I trusted you.”
“That sounds like a you problem,” Donnie muttered, braving the kitchen to ensure the remainder of his coffee made it out relatively intact. “If my coffee tastes like activated charcoal I will kill you.”
“And on that note,” the slider scampered from the kitchen like a dog with its tail between its legs.
“You think if we put a smiley face on it with whipped cream it’ll taste okay.” Mikey asked.
“Just let him rest, Mikey,” try as he might to sound exasperated, Raph’s laughter betrayed him. “Please stop. He’s already dead.”