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Most nights, Leo and his brothers didn’t care what the weather was like. Mikey would sometimes give light complaints here and there when the colder months came, but for the most part, the four stood content no matter the weather.
Today’s training started with a group fighting match, two on two. Contrary to Leo’s desire to battle his fiery younger brother, the swordsman was paired with Donnie, and Raph with Mikey. Splinter gives out a command for the pairs to ready themselves, all hushed by a hard breeze whirling in from the upper vents. The whole lair donned a crisp bluish color from the cold.
Closest to the west wall, Raphael arches an eyebrow to match his threatening pose. His arms swing back to grab hold of his sais. Michelangelo did the same but took a moment to test-spin his nunchakus and hear their jovial whistle as they spun.
“Booyakasha!” Mikey rushes upward, bounding away from Raph’s blurred swings. Creating a tiny aftershock on the carpet, he forces momentum back up into his core to straighten out and keep dodging. Raph remains in position, turning wildly and delivering hard and fast jabs with armored elbows and the occasional base of a sai.
“Come and get it, Mikey!” Raph yells, broadening his shoulders. He stares at his brother’s smiley expression in vain.
A confident squawk comes in response. “Maybe you’re the one that’s going to get me !”
“...Yes, that’s what I’m hoping for,” says Raph after a pause.
To his left, Leonardo swings his katanas swiftly in front of Donatello, who slides gracefully back and over with his bo staff at his chest. The two circle around, waiting for an opening. Donnie spins his staff above his shoulder blades, building up force for a harder strike, and Leo walks with knees bent and swords readied over his face.
“You’re gonna have to try harder to distract me,” Leo says, flashing a confident grin. He stands next to Raph, now stone-faced in focus on his buoyant opponent. Another breeze dives into the western half of the room, sending shivers down their shells.
“And what, you don’t?” Donnie retorts. “I’ve got you this time, you’ll see.”
“Alright then,” says a doubtful Leo. He readjusts his weight and begins running forward.
At the same time, Mikey advances, swinging out his left arm and drawing towards his brother.
Smack! Raph’s head is welcomed to an explosion of dizziness spreading into his skull. Trying not to bend over in pain, he stands with his head cowered over, protected by his hands. In an explosion of fury, he tightens his grip on the steel.
“Mikey--!” he yells in anger. Turning over his sais, Raph pounces forward, delivering a hard strike into his brother’s chest and forcing him down. Spinning over on his back, he yelps in pain, frantically grabbing hold of the ground to regain his balance.
“Ow! My chest!” Mikey curls up in pain (more than usual).
"Raphael!” Splinter snaps, alerting all four. He rushes over to inspect his youngest son, who bears a tiny crack on the right side of his shell. Assured that everything would be fine, he turns to give Raph a harsh stare. “Apologize this instant.”
Raph squints his eyes in annoyance but looks over to check the damage himself. “I’m sorry, Mikey.”
“You’ll be okay,” Donnie says to Mikey, jumping from behind and assessing the wound. He gives a heartfelt shoulder pat while putting on a sympathetic smile. “We’re just a little out-of-it today, right Raphael ?”
A sigh responds to the uptight prodding. “Yeah, sure.” Raph folds his arms in distaste, weapons still in hand.
“Enough!” Master Splinter’s harsh voice pierces the crisp air. He taps his emerald cane to the floor, pairing the stern expression across his face. “Stay focused, my sons. Remember what we discussed yesterday. Again!”
. . .
It was early November, so things at school were picking up fast. April was getting closer with schoolmates in hopes to make some better connections, especially since the semester was almost over. A certain few people down below weren’t happy with her decision to stay up, though, so she visited the sewers as often as her schedule permitted. She had just taken up a part-time job at a local second-hand shop to come up with enough funds to heat her apartment and purchase a durable umbrella to pass the season, so her time was spread very thin.
The warm golden light from a nearby thrift store lights up a gray-blue street corner. In the main area, ragged clothes and hastily-folded drapes retire their worn threads on wooden shelves. In the front of the store, two cash registers lay bare with half-functioning conveyor belts and warped glass windows — and only one station was occupied.
Working the counter, April rings up an older man — her only customer — purchasing fleece blankets and candy canes, insisting on folding the blankets perfectly in a paper bag to carry home. She offers to help, but gets declined, and restlessly places her shoulder onto the counter as she watches.
At that moment, she gets a message from the T-phone hooked on one of her belt loops. Glancing around to make sure no one watches, she lifts it from her waist and reads the words.
April,
How is work? Call when you can.
- Donnie
With a sigh, she puts the phone away and waves to the man, who finally finishes packing his things and zipping up his coat.
April’s shift was almost up. Looking at the shop’s cracked clock on the wall, she decides to begin her nightly inspection in her final minutes before heading out. As always, the cash register was more full of dust than the day’s earnings. She sighs, counting the few crumpled bills, and locks the chamber.
“This place is falling apart,” she says to no one, scanning the store to search for anything more out-of-place than usual. Finding nothing, she decides to take out her phone again.
Is everything okay? she types.
Just tired , comes an answer. A chain of dings emits from the speaker as How are you? and Any other plans? ring up.
Seeing no other messages from her school friends, April lets out another long breath and starts typing. Not today. Things are slow. I take it you’re in the same boat? She had been receiving a laundry list’s worth of interrogative messages from him all day, so nothing huge had to be going on.
Waiting for another message, she puts her phone back, swings the front sign to closed , and heads out to lock the doors.
The clouds finally begin to weep whispers of rain, calmly misting over the streets. The ambient sound of rushing cars and the pitter-patter of wet footsteps are the only things keeping the street corner alive. Deep below, though, scalding anger simmers in the sewers.
“Well, that was a complete failure.” In the TV room, Raph sits near a concrete ledge where his pet turtle rests peacefully. A ceramic bowl of spinach leaves lays nearby.
“Come on, Spike, you’ve barely touched your food.” Raph strokes his companion lovingly, but the creature drops his head in response, barely keeping his eyes open.
Mikey rests against the pinball machine, inspecting his injury. “I’m gonna have to get major cosmic work done to patch this up,” he muses playfully. Raph looks up, withholding a grunt.
“It’s cosmetic ,” Donnie corrects. Slouching on the stairway a few feet from the couch, he texts April. She had told him work ended around this time, and he was eager to suggest for her to come over.
“You’ve been on that thing all day,” says Leo with a motherly twang, recalling his brother’s pre-training screentime.
Donnie brushes off the criticism, giving a cocky look back to him. “Well, I think you’re just a little jealous that I get to talk to someone.” He waves the phone up by his head, then reels back in and continues typing. “Man, instant communication is so awesome!”
“Yeah, maybe it helps April forget you’re a giant mutant,” says Raph. He turns to his side and pushes the bowl closer to Spike.
“Hey! At least I’m not the mutant who pummeled Mikey during our first match!” Donnie steams, half-seriously.
“Okay, guys, calm down.” Leo steps between the two. “We’re all having an off day.” He remembers the incoming breeze whistling down. “It’s probably because of the weather. Let’s just try to hang back for a while, okay?”
“And do what, hang around and act all stuck-up?” Raph snaps. He swings his arms toward his two older brothers who smugly sit upright near the TV.
“ You’re the one acting off today,” Donnie answers, still typing.
“Oh really, it’s just me? Why don't you use that phone of yours to tell April how much of a selfish jerk you’re being?” This claim was not unfounded — Donnie’s recluse behavior led to more frequent flashes of anger directed at his distracting peers.
Leo tries to jump in. “Guys, just—”
“ I’m the jerk?!” Donnie puts down the phone to gesture to himself. “ I’m not the one brooding in a corner. In case you’ve forgotten, you’d all freeze without me!”
A few years back, Donnie had used some spare parts from the nearby military junkyard to craft a rudimentary generator that kept the lair warm. Unfortunately, the machine was solar-powered — the only gas appliance they could operate was the kitchen stove — and today, a blanket of cumbersome grey clouds had smushed themselves inside the New York skyline, blocking out any traces of the sun.
Raph sarcastically puts a hand to his head, pretending to remember. “Oh yes, that’s right. Thank you, Donnie, for making a half-useful brick for winter. We’d be so lost without you.”
“Guys, stop!” Leo marches forward and unsheaths one of his katanas, pointing it towards his angry brothers. “Arguing for no reason isn’t helping anyone. Can we all calm down and figure out what’s going on?”
“I’m fine,” says Mikey, striking a confident pose. Another huge draft blows in toward him, and he recoils, starting to shiver.
A loud ding reverberates in the room. Taking another look at Raph and Leo, Donnie awkwardly taps at his phone to glance at a new message.
Alright, the text says. I’m on my way.
“April’s coming over!” He says excitedly, instantly forgetting his previous displeasure. “Maybe that’ll help cheer us up.”
Raph drops his sais, putting both hands to his face and letting out a loud groan. “Great,” he says sarcastically, “that’ll make things a whole lot better!”
Rolling his eyes, Leo puts away his sword and walks back to his episode of Space Heroes. “Well, that’s better than just the four of us sitting around here. Try not to kill each other, okay?” He slouches in front of the screen, a behavior he rarely exhibited while his favorite show was playing. “Things are only gonna get colder. The last thing we need is two battles to worry about.”
After about an hour of static silence hanging in the air, soft footsteps hop down toward the entrance. A petite silhouette appears in the dim light, and after slipping past the turnstile gate entrance and inspecting the main room, it comes dashing forward.
“Oh my gosh, you guys are freezing!” April shouts, quickly marching down the steps. Closing and dropping her umbrella, she slides beside the couch and sits anxiously on one of the concrete steps.
“April!” exclaims Donnie, still sitting idly with phone in hand. “You’re here."
“Yeah, and it looks like I came just in time.”
Reaching the couch, April sits up and lifts a hand to Leo’s forehead, radiating heat into her palm. Pulling back, she gives Donnie a concerned look and notices his pale expression and darkened eyes. Raph and Mikey bear the same grim expression. “What’s wrong with you guys? You look sick.”
“This time of year is especially harsh,” says Splinter, stepping in from his room. The five look up from their circle of warmth. “The winter season is taking a toll on all of us.”
“I never really thought about surviving down here,” April realizes. “What do you usually do to stay warm?”
“Well, typically,” Donnie shivers, “regular turtles hibernate for a few months because the cold compromises their diet, so they shut down to conserve food.”
“And you’re cold-blooded,” April adds. “I guess hibernation is out of the cards for you guys, but how are you going to manage fights when it starts snowing?”
“We wear it out like all the other winters,” Raph answers from behind, now accompanying his brother on the couch. “We’ve made it fifteen years down here, we can handle one more winter.”
“But we won’t just be down here anymore,” says Leo. “The Foot isn’t gonna back down because of some harsh weather.”
“I’ve got it!” A burst of orange pops up in front of Leo. “You know how people have heaters in their cars?” Mikey pauses for a response, but only gets silence in return. “What if we had portable heaters ? Come on, Donnie, let’s do it!”
After a beat, Donnie gives him a confused look. Raph follows Mikey’s remark with an annoyed sigh. “Come on! Who cares about some silly snowstorm? We’ll be fine.”
“Raphael, your peers are right,” Splinter remarks. “Warming up will help you through your battles, not hinder you.”
“It might cure your lethargy,” Donnie adds, giving him a smug look. When a death stare shoots back at him, he turns away. “You’re eating less, too.”
At that cue, Mikey slides down toward a half-closed pizza box and pulls out a tepid slice. He shoves half into his mouth, but not nearly as fast as would be considered “normal” Mikey behavior.
“You all look out of whack,” April says. “What can I do to help?”
“We’re fine,” answers Leo, giving a compassionate smile. “Donnie could try and fix up the generator and we can try eating better, that’s it.”
The other three nod.
“Thanks anyway, April,” Donnie says, stepping closer to her. “We’ll be okay.”
“Alright,” she responds dejectedly, thinking. “...Maybe I could stop by tomorrow and see how you’re doing? I have an idea.”
. . .
“What’s this?” Leo stares at the package in dismay, a worn cardboard box dripping water from outside. His brothers stand behind as April presents her new delivery. Peeling off the tape and revealing the contents, she brushes off the confusion with an excited chuckle.
“It’s winter gear! That way you can keep warm while you’re fighting.”
From the box, she reveals a soft plum blanket and tosses it to Leo. “How’s this?” she asks. The turtle takes a moment to unfold the fabric and wrap it around his arms, covered in goosebumps. Meanwhile, April hands matching clothes to the others.
“Are you sure I can fit in this?” Donnie nervously examines a wine-colored sweater in his hands, unzipped to reveal a furry inner lining. He feigns gratitude as he carefully inspects the soft hairs.
“It’s the biggest size they had,” April assures him, “and I made sure it had long sleeves and a fuzzier hood than the rest of the coats.” In truth, she rummaged through the most worn-out XXL clothes hidden in the back, and found the fuzziest color-coordinating article to deliver — but she decided to keep that part to herself.
Trying it on, Donnie’s pleased to find it’s a perfect fit; even the hood snugly covers his ears and head without the fur messing with his eyes. He returns a beaming smile to April and huddles up to bear more of the sweater’s softness.
Next to the box, Mikey wraps a bright red scarf around his neck and pulls tightly on one of the ends, constricting his neck. “Ack, I’m choking!”
From behind, Raph grabs the back of the scarf and yanks it loose. “There you go, genius.” He heads over to the box, pulling out an olive windbreaker and an extra-large pair of yellow fingerless gloves, stretched out from years of use.
“Where did all this come from?” inquires Donnie, finally shifting his attention away from the sweater.
“The thrift store where I work,” she answers. Her smile fades. “Hardly anyone stops by, so I figured someone could put these old clothes to use. I paid for them all myself.”
Leo walks to April, wrapped in his blanket. “You didn’t have to do that, April.”
“It was no problem. I figured I might as well do something to help the old shop.”
In front of her, Raph peeks into the box once more and pulls out a small pile of green fabric. “ Leg warmers ?” He gives April a disgusted look.
She shrugs. “Eh, they seemed like they could fit.”
“Let me see those!” Mikey rushes back and swipes the crocheted lime green strips. He slides one up his right leg without hesitation, watching the stitches widen as they struggle around his three enormous toes.
After a few minutes, Raph finally gives in. “We are all going to look ridiculous,” he chuckles.
“And comfy, Raph,” says Mikey, pointing a finger matter-of-factly. “ Comfy .”
Raph returns the comment with a shoulder hug, squeezing his little brother. “I guess if it makes you happy, then I’m in.” A beaming, genuine smile comes to him, and Raph delivers a heartfelt grin in return. “And...I’m sorry about earlier.”
When Mikey’s grin doesn’t falter, Raph turns back and raises his voice. “Thanks, April. I appreciate this.”
“Aw, you’re welco—”
A tight hug interrupts. “Thank you so much, April! It’s a perfect fit, can you believe it? I love the stitchwork; very consistent and meticulous!”
She struggles to breathe, then finally wrenches herself free. “You’re--ack--welcome, Donnie.”
. . .
The next morning’s fight starts a lot smoother than usual. With the same pairings as before, the brothers swiftly get into position and employ their latest moves to dodge attacks and sneak up on their opponents.
“Ready for round two, Donnie?” Leo says, already swinging wildly and jumping from side to side. He rolls up the sleeves of a blue coat from the box to free his arms.
“Since I was born!” his brother answers, spinning his staff in one hand and zipping up his sweater with the other.
Whack! From the opposite side of the room, Mikey lands a hit on Raph, this time on his right cheek. “Ow!” he yells.
Mikey nervously steps back, awaiting revenge and using one of his nunchakus for protection. Rather than the expected jabbing, though, a leg swing sweeps him off his feet, landing onto the floor.
“How was that?” Raph asks playfully, smiling at his brother.
Mikey smiles back, scrambling up to his feet and adjusting his scarf. “Nice one, but I’ve got you now!” He swings forward, and the two circle each other, letting out occasional hits and swings.
When December came, things got colder and busier. The heavy clouds became plump and dark, sprinkling down puffy flakes of snow and covering the New York streets in a cushiony blanket. With a few modest tweaks to the generator (per Leo’s request and Raph’s earlier remarks) and occasional visits from April, the turtles kept warm during training and through howling night storms. So long as they tried to stay happy, the brothers hardly cared what the weather was like.