Chapter Text
At first, everything was numb. The truth still hadn’t registered.
Then you raised a stunned hand to your cheek. The skin felt raw and stung beneath your fingers, tangible proof that no, you weren’t imagining things. You gaped at your boyfriend while completely aghast. His expression was cold, almost derisive.
He’d never laid a hand on you before.
“I said you‘re coming with me.” Chet lowered his arm, though his hand remained clenched in a tight fist. “What’s the big fuckin’ deal, anyway? How come you’re always looking for excuses to avoid seeing my family?”
You found your voice, and with it came your temper.
“Chet, I hurled my breakfast into the wastebasket at work today. I’m not feeling well! Do you want me to make your whole family sick, too?”
“Shut up! You’ve got plenty of energy to argue about this, don’t you? You look fine to me!” His voice rose to a shout.
“You just slapped me in the face! You asshole! What's wrong with you?” You backed up as soon as he took a step forward. Chet Lawson was your boyfriend of eight months, though you would’ve been hard-pressed to believe the man standing before you now was the same sweet, flirtatious guy who romanced you last year.
He stood over six feet tall in an athletic frame, and he was good-looking enough with shaggy, dark blond hair and deep brown eyes. Little did you know, Chet and his temper were not on especially good terms, and while things had grown tense between you over the past several weeks, now it seemed as though anything you said or did could set him off.
Chet gave a dismissive scoff, as if your assertion had been laughable. Now you were the one tempted to punch him in the face, though you maintained your calm as best you could. At least the streets of Manhattan still bustled with people, so it was unlikely he would try anything more dangerous out in the open.
But perhaps he’d done you a favor. The mounting contention lately had been pushing you toward an inevitable snapping point, much like a coiled spring ready to burst after applying enough pressure. Quite literally he had just applied it, and you know what? You were done.
Screw this.
“No, I never want to see your family or your sorry, drugged-out excuses for friends ever again. In fact, I never want to see you again!” You thrust your finger into his chest, forcing him back a few inches. His mouth fell open in sheer surprise as he stared at you, and you suspected the sole reason he hadn’t already taken a second swing at you was due to shock. What the hell had you ever seen in this jackass? “Chet, we’re through. Do me a favor and lose my number, and get out of my life. Don’t come near me ever again, you abusive dick.”
You spun on your heel without waiting for a response. There was nothing he could’ve said to change your mind, anyway, as this had been coming for a while now.
Though the gravity of the situation began to sink in after you’d stomped along for a good ten minutes in a righteous fury, and infuriated tears pricked at your eyes. What on earth had happened to the two of you? You’d had at least what you thought was something good going there for several months. Many of your friends were already settling down and even starting to pop out babies. Yet here you were again, starting all over.
You swore under your breath. As disgusted as you were with Chet, you also felt deeply betrayed. Your relationship had started out so well, so promising. How had it come to physical violence and a nasty breakup? You kicked the toes of your sneakers on the sidewalk, knowing you'd made the right decision by standing up for yourself, but it still didn’t make it any less painful.
After putting several blocks between yourself and your now ex-boyfriend, you slowed your pace with a resolute sigh. It was getting late and you ought to head home. The sun was already dipping below the horizon, imbuing New York City with a faint amber and pink glow that would soon give way to nightfall. Yet the thought of returning to your empty apartment to discard Chet’s photos into the trash and unhappily dig into a pint of ice cream didn’t sound like a great way to spend your evening, either.
So you reached for your cell and fired off a quick text, then leaned back against the wall of a nearby storefront that had already closed for the day. You adopted your surliest stare to stave off any unsavory characters who might approach you, though fortunately not even a drifter drew near to beg for spare change. You weren’t tightfisted, but right now you just weren’t in the mood to deal with anyone save for very select company.
Your phone vibrated in your palm, and you felt a surge of relief when you read the response.
Fearless: Of course you can. We don’t have patrol tonight, so it’s a great night for you to stop by. Come over whenever you like.
You smiled and pushed yourself off the wall, straightening up with a slight spring in your step that hadn’t been there moments before. While you may have just broken up with the world’s biggest creep, you still could count on the greatest group of friends anyone could have, so you supposed it all balanced out in the end.
You disappeared into a nearby alleyway. Once you were certain you weren’t being watched, you hauled aside a heavy manhole cover with some effort. You lowered yourself onto the ladder before pulling the cover back into place, and descended the cold metal rungs down into the labyrinth of sewers that your best friends called home.
You took a moment to get your bearings and grow accustomed to the unpleasant smell, though that was par for the course by this point, considering you’d known the brothers for almost two years now and had been visiting them underground for just as long. Then you pasted a wide smile onto your face before striding toward the cozy, elaborate lair that housed a pack of mutant ninja turtles and their wise sensei. The artificial attempt at cheerfulness probably wouldn’t fool Donnie for a second, but hey, it was worth a shot.
“BABY CAKES!” An orange and green blur bowled you over the second you ducked through the entrance way, tackling you to the floor in a graceless heap. You groaned in pain, but still laughed as you reached up to wrap your arms around your dear friend’s neck. “I heard from the Big Kahuna that you were dropping by! You’re just in time to join me for an Arrow marathon!”
“My mannnn!” you exclaimed, clapping him on the back, albeit breathlessly since he still had you pinned. “Sounds good, gummy bear, but can I have my lungs back first?” You had a long-standing habit of referring to each other with saccharine or ridiculous nicknames, which earned the two of you regular eye-rolls from his brothers, but neither of you would have it any other way.
“Aw, of course, beautiful!” Mikey offered a sheepish grin before hopping off you and helping you up to your feet. You couldn’t help it; your smile was far more genuine compared to before, as it was more than a little difficult to remain irritable around Michelangelo. He was a veritable source of sunshine, and his sky-blue eyes twinkled as he dragged you over to the couch, where you plopped down beside each other.
He wasted no time in shoving a large bowl of popcorn into your lap. You noted with approval that he’d chosen the extra buttery variety, and you were feeling far less nauseous compared to earlier today. It couldn’t hurt to enjoy yourself alongside your best friend for a spell, and an hour had passed before you knew it. Then you heard the familiar heavy footfalls of the two eldest turtles as they came to a stop behind you.
“Nice of ya to stop by the dojo and say hi.” Raphael’s voice was gruff and sarcastic, but you knew better. Mikey’s attention remained glued to the TV, though you glanced over your shoulder to shoot your friend a playful smile. Sure enough, the red-clad turtle had his muscular arms folded across his chest while he stared down at you in a silent challenge.
“Well, I’m doing it now. Hey there, Red.” You winked, knowing it was rare for him to grow upset with you in earnest. He was known for his blustery exterior and hotheaded temper, but also a hell of a lot softer than you’d think once he accepted you as one of his own (though you might risk a painful bump if you dared to tease him about it). All the same, you shared a tight bond beneath your long-standing friendship characterized by countless sassy remarks and cheeky quarreling, and when push came to shove, no one could make you feel safer than Raph did.
Next to him stood Leonardo, who looked a little tired from their sparring session, but no worse for the wear as he used a damp towel to wipe the sheen of sweat from his forehead. As the team’s leader, he was the very picture of composure and dependability, someone whom you had joined for many an afternoon in decompressing and peaceful meditation. Leo was arguably the most mature member of the team, and he possessed a certain gallantry that suited him well and eased your fears upon first meeting the brothers. His icy blue eyes flickered over to you and he gave you a warm smile in greeting, slinging the towel around his neck.
“Glad you could make it. Everything all right topside?”
“Yep. Just a typical evening,” you answered, your smile faltering. You nearly jumped out of your skin when Donatello’s voice piped up from a few feet behind his brothers, emerging from his lab with almost calculated timing.
“She’s lying.” Donnie was perhaps the sweetest of the turtles, so despite the seemingly brusque statement, his tone wasn’t the least bit accusatory when he made his way over to you. He knelt beside you, leaving you at a loss for words. You knew Donnie would see right through you. “What’s wrong?”
His butterscotch eyes, magnified and glassy behind his taped spectacles, trained upon you with unmistakable concern. Donatello had been very shy to open up when you first met, but as soon as you’d established a bond of trust, you devoted countless hours of your lives waxing philosophical to each other with enthusiasm, and it turned out that he now knew you better than several members of your own family. The resident genius had a real knack for reading people, too, and you were pretty much incapable of pulling the wool over his eyes. You sighed and met his gaze with reluctance.
“Just uh... well...”
“Wait a moment. What’s that?” He leaned in to peer closer at your face. The scientist was also not one to overlook even the smallest detail, which was sometimes an asset and at other times really damn frustrating. Like right now.
“Is it that noticeable?” you asked with a hint of defeat.
“It’s starting to form a bruise, actually.” His thumb gently brushed the spot where Chet had struck you, and your eyes widened. He’d hit you hard enough to create a bruise? Damn it.
“Everything okay?” Leo asked, concern lacing his deep voice. Even Mikey had paused his episode of Arrow to stare at you with worry. The cat was almost out of the bag. You definitely didn’t want to meet Raph’s eyes as you explained what happened, as he would probably boil over with rage as soon as he found out.
“Yeah. Now it is! Spending time with my second family always makes everything better.”
“Hey. Don’t dodge the subject by actin’ all cheery,” Raph growled, now eyeing you with suspicion. “Did somethin’ happen up there?”
“Sadly, yes.” You blew out a deep sigh. “I wasn’t feeling well earlier today, and couldn’t go with Chet to meet his family for dinner tonight.”
“No,” Donnie breathed, already piecing together the situation, as expected.
“He was angry. Really angry. Took it out on me, and—”
“What.” There it was, right on schedule. You flinched as Raph’s entire body tensed from his position a couple of feet behind the couch, knowing he’d probably flip the piece of furniture if you and Mikey weren’t already sitting in it (hell, maybe he still would, if it was just Mikey). “Are you saying that bastard HIT ya?!”
His voice rose into a protective snarl, and Leo put a steadying hand on his arm. Popcorn scattered across the floor when Mikey cast aside the tub in favor of scooting across the couch, and he pulled you into a tight hug.
“Baby girl, are you okay?!” He was shocked, his eyes widening to colossal proportions with concern.
“Guys, I’m fine! I’m fine. I promise, it barely even hurts anymore. It was more surprising than anything else.” You hugged him back.
“This just escalated to a physically abusive relationship,” Donnie pointed out. “Where is he now? Is this the first time he’s done something like this?”
“Yes. I’m not about to defend him, though,” you grumbled. “No clue where he is right now, since I ditched him several blocks away. Oh, and I already dumped him, before you ask. Not setting myself up for that vicious cycle. If he’s violent now, chances are high it’s only going to get worse.” Your voice cracked as you spoke, even though you knew you’d made the right decision.
“Good for you, baby cakes!” Mikey exclaimed, and Raph didn’t bother hiding his loud grunt of approval at this news. Donnie’s expression was still very soft, though, and the corners of his mouth remained wilted as he watched you.
“I’m sorry. I know that breaking up with someone is never easy.” He always understood.
“Thanks, Donnie.” He pulled you into a loose hug, slightly shy and limber just like him, but full of kindness. When you drew apart, you felt Raph’s eyes digging into you and glanced over at him.
“Let me see that,” he muttered, leaning over the back of the couch in an ungainly manner, given his massive stature. His large hand darted beneath your chin and nudged it up so you had no choice but to look him in the eye, and his irises darkened as he furiously took in the bruise on your face. “...Someone gonna remind me where that piece of shit lives again?”
“We’re not going to hunt him down, Raph,” Leo said while rolling his eyes. “All that matters is that she's safe.”
“Yeah, bruh! Plus, she already broke up with that loser! Everything’s gonna be okay, angel cakes.” Mikey mussed the hair atop your head, and Raph sent him an irritated glare before releasing you. You sank back into the couch while sighing and massaged the bridge of your nose with a couple of fingers. You’d hoped to keep the incident on the down low, but you should’ve known they would wheedle it out of you sooner or later.
When your best friends are six-foot-plus-tall walking, talking mutant ninja turtles, there are several surprising perks involved, but unfortunately just as many downsides. Each of them had his own distinct, vibrant personality, and they’d brought remarkable support and stability to your life once you grew close. You could rely upon them for virtually anything, and if you were ever in danger, you also had four walls of well-trained muscle who would stop at nothing to come to your aid and were more than a match for whatever came your way.
Regrettably, their friendship sometimes was the reason your life became endangered in the first place. But hey, who’s counting? Being a giant turtle versed in the ways of ninjutsu was an occupational hazard, and they were no strangers to confronting threats to New York. Their status as mysterious vigilantes who operated from the shadows marked them as targets for the Foot Clan and its leader Shredder in particular, though the Purple Dragon gang wasn’t too keen on them, either, after the brothers had thwarted several of their robbery and mugging attempts. It was a miracle that all four were still alive and in one piece.
Not to mention they were just a little overprotective of you. Along with your close friends April O’Neil and Casey Jones, you were one of the select few human companions the turtles had (did Vern Fenwick really count?), and as a result, they often went a little overboard in their attempts to ensure your safety. They couldn’t walk you home on the streets of New York, even at night, as the city never slept. But they would still pursue you from the shadows, darting from rooftop to rooftop with their weapons prepared, braced to fight off an impending full-on assault if a passerby even glanced at you funny.
At least you never felt like you were in danger when walking home alone, though you went out of your way to try to avoid upsetting Raph. The hothead wasn’t known for his self-control, and he’d never seemed fond of Chet, anyway. In retrospect, you realized that none of the turtles had ever approved of him, but they still supported you because you were like family. Your heart warmed at the thought. But all you needed was for the sai-wielding turtle to lose his shit and stalk down Chet to deliver the beating of his life (and he would do it, too, given the opportunity).
The sturdy couch groaned under the weight of the huge turtle who plunked down beside you a moment later, and speak of the devil, it was Raphael. You were no shrimp as human females went, but Raph was the team’s bruiser and it showed in his physique. He was a solid, hulking mass of green muscle with bulging triceps, and you’d even witnessed it first-hand when he once shattered a solid chunk of concrete with a single well-placed punch. By comparison you were a pathetically weak little creature, but damn was it reassuring to know the firebrand was on your side.
The mutagen that flowed through the boys’ veins was administered by April’s father and the now-disgraced Eric Sacks during a series of experiments over two decades ago during the 90s. Originally they had been nothing more than mere box turtles, adorable little creatures that would have fit into the palm of your hand. The sage and respectable Master Splinter had also begun as nothing more than a literal lab rat, but mutagen imparted each of them with half-human qualities, resulting in their incredible sizes and impressive intellect.
If it weren’t for the fact that they were mutant turtles, the guys could easily fit in with the rest of the human world topside, given their well-adjusted personalities and valiant natures. Sadly, New York (not to mention the rest of the world) was a long way off from being prepared to accept the existence of something as shocking as the brothers, even if they were the literal heroes who had rescued the city on numerous occasions. It was a tough gig.
“‘Ey. You listenin’, short stack?” You blinked when Raph snapped two large fingers in front of your face to catch your attention. You realized you must have been lost in thought, and you flushed in embarrassment. Mikey had already engrossed himself in the episode of Arrow once more while Donnie and Leo retreated to the lab and shower. But Raph’s sharp green eyes were locked onto you rather than the TV screen. You should’ve known he wasn’t going to let what happened slide, though you appreciated his hard-headed brand of concern.
“Don’t call me that. I’m not short,” you retorted.
“Not how I see it,” he said while barking out a laugh, his trademark smirk spreading across his face. “You’re almost a solid foot shorter’n me, shrimp.” He only did this to get a playful rise out of you, as was the nature of your relationship, but you weren’t really in the mood for it tonight. You shot him a sour look, though you couldn’t bring yourself to be too acidic toward him.
“Never met anyone who called me ‘short’ or ‘shrimp’ until I met you,” you mumbled, jabbing your elbow into the scaly skin of his side. You didn’t have to worry about causing him any pain, as the sheer barricade of muscle that lined his stomach cushioned any blow that snuck past his plastron.
“First time for everything, eh?” Raph’s thick Brooklyn accent had grown on you over time, not that you’d ever admit it to him. But at least he’d calmed down enough to resume poking fun at you, which was a good sign.
“Yeah, yeah.” You broke out into a stubborn smile, and his smirk broadened while he chewed upon the toothpick tucked into the corner of his mouth. His arm extended around the back of the couch, coming to rest behind your head with a couple of inches to spare without actually touching you, which was nothing new. The guy had the whole casual-but-protective thing down to a science the way Donnie could power through advanced quadratic equations, and you were already well-accustomed to it by now.
Mikey whooped with excitement when a fight scene broke out on the television screen. Much to your embarrassment, your stomach growled loudly enough to overpower even the dramatic music blaring from the set. You supposed it made sense, as you’d hardly consumed anything all day after vomiting your breakfast at work an hour into your morning shift. The popcorn wasn’t substantial, either, and either way it was now strewn across the floor. Raph snorted.
“Shoulda just said you wanted somethin’ to eat.”
“I didn’t realize I was hungry,” you protested.
“C’mon. Believe it or not, we’ve got some leftover pizza in the fridge.” He rose to his feet, though the couch remained sagged in the shape of his shell, and you fought the urge to giggle. You accepted his outstretched arm, and he pulled you to your feet before you followed him into the kitchen.
“What sorcery is this?” You marveled when Raph did indeed produce a large Antonio’s box from the fridge that still contained a few slices of cold pizza. “I didn’t know if was possible for you guys, particularly Mikey, to not polish off every box of pizza that comes your way.”
Raph rolled his eyes. “Shut it. Ya want a piece or not?”
“Sure. Thanks, Raph.” He grunted in response before joining you with a slice of his own, and you both leaned back against the counter side-by-side as you munched upon the cheesy snack. You didn’t mind that it was cold, and with the muted sounds of the TV in the distance and the comforting, low hum of the refrigerator a few feet away, you felt the afternoon's tension ebbing away. It was definitely the right decision to come visit the turtles in the wake of what happened.
“You all right?” Raph had already swallowed his last bite, and now his voice was quiet, lined with a rare trace of concern that he so infrequently let show in front of the others. You knew what he meant and nodded.
“Yeah. I’m good. Just gotta move forward with my life,” you said. “No sense in staying with him, like I mentioned earlier.”
“Nope,” he agreed. A slightly awkward silence followed. “So. Ya gonna enjoy the single life again for a little while?” You almost choked on your remaining piece of crust, not having expected those words to come from Raph’s mouth, of all people. What on earth?
“Uh...” You trailed off after your very eloquent response, unable to look right at him, though you stole repeated glances out of the corner of your eye. “I... guess so?”
“Sorry. Real dumb question,” he mumbled, shoving his hands into the pockets of his black track pants. If you’d thought the silence had been awkward before, it had nothing on this newfound discomfort. It was odd, but you were suddenly hyper-aware of the tall turtle standing only a few feet away, and his posture was unnaturally stiff.
“Yeah. That was pretty dumb, Red,” you finally answered, and he quirked an eye ridge up at you, taking his red bandanna with him.
“What the hell was that?”
“Excuse me?”
“That took ya at least a couple of minutes to respond. If you wanna shoot back an insult, it’s gotta be quicker than that.” He scoffed, and you reached out to slap his broad forearm.
“Shove it up your ass.”
“Could still use a lotta work, but at least the timing was better.”
“Are you trying to get under my skin?”
You continued to bicker as you left the kitchen, thankfully also leaving behind that bizarre moment you’d shared. Leo had returned from his shower while you were absent and was now seated on the couch next to Mikey. You settled back in beside them, trying to force the afternoon’s events out of your mind and seek comfort in the company of your treasured friends.
A slew of irate messages, calls, and voicemails flooded your phone over the course of the evening, going unnoticed for a while in your bag. But later that night before bed, accompanied by a heavy grimace and a few tears, you deleted everything and blocked Chet’s number to prevent any further contact. You meant it when you said you were done with him. He was a scumbag and there was no reconciling the relationship. It was over. As much as it pained you, you knew this.
Unfortunately, you’d soon learn that Chet wasn’t going to take no for an answer.