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Chapter Text

A flash of doves smacking into his lab was the bombastic way Donatello knew he’d received an invitation to Hypno and Warren’s wedding. Pastel color invites were between the beaks of each bird, the one he had gotten in a more purple tint. The turtle would have smiled had feathers not adhered themselves to every surface of his inner sanctum, chasing the birds out with Shelldon. 

The doves turned a corner, presumably out of the sewers and back to the world above. They’d be difficult to explain to his folks without blowing his cover, opting to lie and say he was reinventing the carrier pigeon. 

But no one came. None of his brothers cared enough to know why blinding white doves had descended upon their home. It took Donnie looking for his family to realize they had all gone out, except for Mikey who put a do not disturb sign on his room with the door locked, and Raph who was training with Casey Jr; a lucky break for the purple turtle. Pop music faintly filled the halls, coming from Leo’s room, a sign on his door which stated he was out grabbing snacks for that night’s movie marathon. Upon investigation said music was Lady Gaga’s Born This Way, with LoveGame lined up next.

Oh great, he’s in one of those moods again. Dee thought, the playlist his twin had curated telegraphing the message of gay and single very well. Leonardo would never be over the ‘I’m gayer than you’ comment, it seemed. Even if that were no longer true.

—

Donnie had spent the time after his initial revelation thinking back on what he wanted from life, if what he felt was truly attraction or simply admiration. In truth, he loved the way his past crushes carried themselves; the sheer commanding power and influence of a villain with all the flash and sparkle in the world. Dee wanted to shine like that, have others bask in the glow of his brilliance and bold fashion choices. Being autistic comes with mistaking some feelings for others, at least in his experience, but he finally got to sorting them out.

Donatello knew who he was now. A biromantic asexual, a horde of purple pride pins in his clutches. And as he was a mutant turtle with rough ideas of human gender, added the non-binary pin to his stash as well. 

A week after his revelations, he had scheduled another meeting with Hypno at an underground yokai cafe, with minimal chance he’d be spotted. The turtle had lied and told his family he was going out for bubble tea, a lie met with plenty of requests. They got their drinks to avoid suspicion, of course, except for Raph who had no interest in choking on tapioca pearls again. 

This was Donnie’s fifth secret meeting with his honorary gay uncle. Despite the secrecy, talking with Hypno felt cathartic. Even after the family meeting outlining his loves and desires outside of tech, showing how he really felt, and the hugs, tears, and understanding that came with such a conversation; Donatello still preferred to speak with someone who really got him, even if that someone could be considered evil. 

Was it truly so wrong? The thought had crossed his mind so often, to the point he had convinced himself either nothing was wrong with it or everything was. Plenty had broken the boundary of enemy and hero; even Splinter and Draxum committed to the full enemies to friends to lovers arc. Why not befriend a villain? It only comes with immense guilt!

Still, Donnie shoved all apprehension deep down. He wasn’t friends with Hypno the villain, only Darby the hippo. At least that’s what he kept telling himself. As for Darby’s other half, Warren, Donatello could only consider him a nuisance. 

“Lovely seeing you again, Donnie! Kia ora!” The hippo waved Dee down to his table, loud enough that the few souls residing in the cafe with them looked over before turning away. 

The purple turtle cringed internally before taking his seat. Hypno had gotten both of their drinks before Donnie arrived for the sake of ease. In front of the purple turtle sat an iced hibiscus tea, whereas Hypno was more a fan of earl grey. 

“Good afternoon to you too, Darby. Kia ora.” Dee sipped his drink before gearing up to make his announcement.

“So you remember the night we started hanging out and I came out as gay after one White Clawn’t?”

The hippo nodded, taking a sip of his hot tea. 

“Well, turns out I’m a different thing!” Donatello reached into his pockets to grab his pride pins when Hypno gave him a look.

“You’re coming out as evil?” Darby slid a five-dollar bill into his jacket pocket which secretly held his fiancé. 

Dee blinked at him. “Where did you get that idea from?” 

“Sorry, it’s just that that night it seemed like you were either going to tell me you were gay or evil, and you came out as gay. I jumped to conclusions rather quickly.” The hippo drummed his fingers against the table, trying not to dig himself into a larger hole.

“It’s cool. For the sake of forgetting that ever happened, I’ll just start over.” Donnie could waste time thinking about that later.

In one fell swoop, he dumped his pride pins out onto the table to face Darby. 

“I thought about who I am for a long time and considered my entire life, every data point and instance of possible attraction, as well as an analysis of whether or not I found the people I had crushes on attractive or if I just wanted to be them. It took a month, but I’ve finally quantified the very core of who I am into three distinct identities working in tandem as represented by these three pins before you!” Donnie presented the pins with a grand flourish of his hand.

Hypno picked each one up gently, looking over the stripes and reading the terms attached to each one carefully. He was tearing up. Oh fuck.

“Donatello, the fact that you trust me enough to share such an important part of your life with me means so much. I’m so very proud of you and all that you are. Hell, even these pins are very ‘you’.” The hippo mutant wiped his eyes.

“I’m glad that we live in a time where you can explore who you are without worry, to craft an existence uniquely your own with love and no shame. You’re a delightful and brilliant young turtle with nothing but a bright future before you. I’m glad I can call you my friend.”

The soft-shell turtle did not expect to cry today. This was meant to be a simple and straightforward presentation. Instead, Donnie was crying into his drink at the understanding that someone he looked up to was proud of him. Parental validation! It was so nice yet it was more than that. It was true acceptance, the very essence of ‘I see you, I hear you, and you aren’t alone’. 

“Every time we talk, I end up crying in public. Kinda embarrassing,” Donatello joked, wiping his eyes. “But in all seriousness, thank you. You have no idea how much that means to me.” 

Hypno had set out to be the very thing he hoped to have at Donnie’s age. A supportive and proud parent of sorts; a sense of hope and safety. The kid sure as hell needed it, but so did he. With Dee around, it became so much easier to drop the villain act. What was once fun began to suffocate him; realizing his actions were hurting someone he cared for. 

Before the purple turtle, it was simply him and Warren. Nothing wrong with the worm man (in Hypno’s eyes at least), but running around in circles can only get you so far. Donatello brought a new energy in. The bright-eyed yet very aware teen excited to show off the things he loved if given the chance. It was refreshing, a new perspective. With the new friend came a feeling of protectiveness, someone worth protecting. And while, yes, the kid’s mystic power was ‘gun’, that didn’t deter the hippo’s sentiment. 

“Anytime, Donnie. Now, I’d offer you a handkerchief but all of mine are tied up in an infinite scarf trick.” The hippo chuckled, ready to start said trick for the hell of it when the turtle pulled out a box of tissues. 

“No problem, I always come prepared.” Dee sat the box of tissues out on the table before realizing, “oh, you were kidding. Well, still gonna leave those out, just in case.” 

“Thank you. I will ask, is this all you wanted to do for our meeting? If I remember correctly, you wanted to teach me to play chess?” Hypno rested his chin on his hand with a smile as Donatello lit up, ready to launch into a very detailed description. 

“I thought you’d never bring it up!” Donnie pulled a chess board out of his battleshell before clearing the table and setting it down. His hands flapped and legs kicked out, happy stims for a happy lad about to spend several hours explaining a thousands of years old game. “With my instructions, you might just come out of this ordeal somewhat decent!” 

“Heh, that’s what I said about our Māori lessons,” Darby commented, taking another sip of his drink as the turtle began to explain the intricacies and basics of chess. What a good kid.

—

“Ok Nardo, this is getting a little pathetic.” Donnie shut his brother’s music off, the track having just skipped to ‘Primadonna’ by Marina & The Diamonds. 

Suntering off back to his lab, Dee twirled his invite between his fingers, the light catching markings invisible unless at an angle. 

“What the-?” He held the invite up and craned his neck back to read it. “Hypno, are you fucking serious?!” 

The purple turtle practically kicked the door down to his lab, squeaking with, and jumping for, joy. “He picked me to be his best man! Shelldon, activate closet clean-out protocol. I need to look fabulous!” 

“On it, bro.” The drone pressed play on Donnie’s record player, an eighties jam in the form of Girls Just Wanna Have Fun kicking off a montage. This was gonna take a while.

***

Mikey was sitting alone on the edge of his bed when the invitation came, a dove dropping the orange-tinted letter at his feet. He would’ve smiled had it not been for the sheer amount of work he’d been commissioned to do, even worse with the wedding a week away. 

—

He had met Warren and Hypno properly at an art supply shop called Totally Not Blick a couple months prior, the turtle himself there in need of spray paint and acrylic. The couple stood an aisle over, clothes plain, merely citizens of the city. The two were talking about hiring an artist for the wedding, but no clue where to start looking, with Warren assuming he could simply do the art himself since, in his own words, “art’s easy! You draw a bunch of lines, erase most of them, add color, and you’re done!” 

“My darling, never say that again. Hmm, I remember a kind lad that did set design back in Auckland. Perhaps he’s available? Oh, but the ticket costs must be astronomical…”  The hippo sounded contemplative and anxious. 

Now’s your time to shine! Show ‘em what Dr. Paintings can do! I’ll workshop the name later. The orange turtle thought to himself, forgetting for a moment that these people had kicked the hell out of him and his brothers several times.

It didn’t matter in the moment, he wanted to feel useful. That, and while he couldn’t find an in with Meat Sweats, maybe Hypno would give him a chance? Worth a shot. 

“Heard you were in need of an artist?” Mikey must’ve looked as desperate as he sounded, the hippo’s gaze remaining neutral once he cast eyes upon his enemy. Warren had gone off to the notepads, attempting to get passersby to sketch him.

“Indeed we are. I’ll hazard a guess and say that you’re an artist yourself, turtle?” Hypno didn’t want to admit he began to care for all of Donnie’s brothers, not just Donnie. Besides his weekly meetings with the purple turtle, he also ran in similar circles with Leonardo, and was now pleasantly surprised to make amends and speak with Mikey as well. Never got a chance to chat with the red one, however. 

“Yeah! Whatever you need, I can do!” Angelo pulled his phone out and started scrolling through his artwork. “Graffiti, abstract art, still lives, finger painting, shell painting, etc.” 

The photos in order were of him spraying subway tunnels with portraits of his family with his signature, filling a bucket with paint and throwing it at a wall for stress relief but liked how the colors looked, a painting of a bull mutant with a bagel stuck on one horn, a finger painting from when he was six, and a far more recent pic of him painting the spikes on Raph’s shell at his older brother’s request. 

Darby was impressed. He knew he couldn’t do what Mikey could and admired the turtle’s skill. “How’s about we chat for a while, orange one? Discuss your commission rates and all that.” 

“Ohmigosh! Really? You want me to paint for you?” Mikey’s eyes were wide, barely able to hold back his joy. On his way to the validation station, baby! 

“Most definitely. Now, so I can address you properly, what is your name?” This is great! I’m going to get a good grade in uncle. Something normal to want and possible to achieve! Hypno thought to himself.

“It’s Mikey, but the full thing’s Michelangelo, like the famous painter. Honestly starting to question where dad got the names from.” He muttered the last part.

“Quite a fitting name for you, like a self-fulfilling prophecy. As for me, you can call me what you’d like, but for the record, my name’s Darby.” 

The orange turtle smiled and nodded, on the surface accepting that he was having a casual conversation with a potential new friend and definite client, walking the aisles and making small talk. But below that dwelled anxiety, waiting for the facade to crumble to pieces and the fight to begin. A certain pig mutant had already weakened his foundation of trust in those once kind to him, always keeping one foot off the rug so he’d be less off guard when it eventually got pulled from under him.  And yet…

“Don’t worry about material costs, I’ll cover whatever you need. You’re going to do an amazing job!” 

“You think so?”

“I know so. Your timing today couldn’t have been better.”

Hypno’s smile never faltered, genuine in his expression. For the first time in two years, Mikey finally stopped waiting for the other shoe to drop. Perhaps there was hope after all. 

—

Michelangelo had already made the main portrait of Darby and Warren in pre-approved wedding outfits, a picture for reference taped to the frame. It was five feet tall and nearly impossible to hide, so he took to sticking it to the ceiling upside down. 

The best part of this arrangement was never having to look at the worm mutant’s over-exaggerated muscles ever again, a result of Stone slipping Mikey five bucks (wow) and asking for something flattering. The box turtle would’ve felt a bit insulted by the bribe if Hypno hadn’t already paid him twenty-five thousand dollars in unmarked bills. Let’s just say Mikey now had fifty-eight full piggy banks shoved under his bed. 

Also under the orange turtle’s bed were dozens of cans of spray paint, Golden™ acrylic in several bucket sizes, stacks of canvas, a handful of bright pink unicorns (all of which were named George), brushes in various states of use, gloss medium, matte medium, and the overwhelming anxiety and expectations that come with a project of this size. Was the stress eating him alive? Oh absolutely. 

It’s okay! No one’s said anything and that’s okay! The only one that looked at you funny was Raph, but no worries there. Like yeah, I am hiding something! No you can’t know what! See, totally fine! 

Mikey was a complete wreck. Having a secret he couldn’t share with his family at all costs, along with the fact that he needed things to go perfectly destroyed him. 

After having Todd save him from the Meat Sweats incident, he knew his brothers would tease him and lecture him for trying to befriend another villain. Even a villain that’s not a complete asshole.

Between Donnie and Leo sneaking out more often, Splinter and Draxum learning how to love again and going on group dates with Big Mama, as well as April dating Casey Sr, it was incredibly easy to feel alone and self-isolate. The only ones consistently around much were Casey Jr and Raph, but even those two had become close training buddies. 

With a deep breath, he let go of his fears for a moment. Orange would have time to worry after his commissions were finished. For now, it was time to paint and listen to music. 

Mikey hit shuffle on SpottedFly, pulling out his supplies and setting up his easel. All that needed to be done were six 16” by 20”s of abstract pours to be placed around the venue. Darby had requested very specific colors, namely purple and gold tones, but encouraged the turtle to create pieces based on what he saw for his own artistic vision. It should be easy and yet… 

I made a promise

Now I feel nauseous

As if I chugged a cup of stuff you clean your countertops with

But no Lysol won't solve this

So I am out of options

It's past my bedtime and I'm honestly exhausted

And that’s why I shouldn’t hit shuffle. Michelangelo frowned as the song felt like a personal attack, directly calling him out despite the impossibility. 

He was tired, depressed, and still very very traumatized. And now he was pushing himself. But it’s difficult to call for help when you’re the funny one, the aloof and energetic kid with stars in his eyes, the one that’s supposed to comfort rather than be comforted. So he’d make the art, accept the money, attend the wedding, and hope it’d fill the void in his life. Poor kid. 

And I just wanna be more than nostalgia

Received like a hotdog down at the dog park

Be your best friend

The orange turtle covered the floor in plastic wrap before placing the stretched canvas down on top. He grabbed six large plastic cups, stained from previous use, and began to fill five of them with their respective colors: cerulean blue, cobalt teal, dioxazine purple, cadmium orange, and iridescent deep gold. 

The things that I can't shoulder well

I pass onto my older self

And hope I learn to cope so I don't end up broke or overwhelmed

'Cause vocally, I'm not the best

I'm openly admitting that

Each color was mixed with pouring medium before being layered in the empty cup, starting from the darkest blue, then the gold, purple, orange, and lastly the lighter blue. Mikey tapped the cup against the ground to release excess air bubbles before beginning the first pour. 

If I look brave I'm secretly

Pretending I'm a different me

The one on stage who plays and

Sings and claps and shouts and basically

The paint hit the canvas in a controlled spiral, each color popping against the other, striving to be what caught the viewer's eye most. The box turtle picked the canvas up and tapped it against the ground on each corner to get the paint to fully cover the canvas. He could’ve sworn it needed some white, yet a streak of teal came up to the surface to break up the monotony of dark tones with flashes of gold. 

Behind the door

Just out of view

Dancing in the panic room

The final piece looked quite nice, especially by Mikey’s new standards. This used to be fun, a stress relief. But now…

I made a promise

Now I feel nauseous

As if I chugged a cup of stuff you clean your countertops with

But no Lysol won't solve this

So I am out of options

It's past my bedtime and I'm honestly exhausted

But if you want it

It’ll be fine. Just five left. Angelo thought to himself, setting the first piece aside.

He wanted to take a break, go for a walk, see what the heck Donnie was doing locked in his room for the past hour while montage music barely squeaked out the 99% soundproofed door. He just wanted to be done. 

So here's my promise

Don't aim for flawless

'Cause some of your best art is made with chalk on your sidewalk, it's

Gone when you wash it off, it's

Not made for fame or profits

It's looking back and giving all you got to top it

But if you want it

Well shit, maybe the guy on the radio was right. 

Mikey decided to stop, at least for a moment. He’d return later and create something solely for himself, a loud piece done up and down the sewer tunnels to vent anger and sadness. Things would be okay, but he needed someone else to reassure him for once.

***

“Once I had a love and it was a gas! Soon turned out had a heart of glass!” Donatello sung along with his record player, the song not quite eighties but getting a pass as an absolute banger. 

The purple turtle winged his eyeliner the way Hypno showed him, a beautiful compliment to his violet suit jacket dripping with rhinestones and glitter. It felt powerful to be this stunning, fawning over himself in the mirror before reeling it back. He would not become his twin, god no.

“Hey Donnie?” The orange turtle knocked on the door to his older brother’s lab tentatively. 

Dee froze, music pausing as he shucked his outfit off and chucked it aside. He was just getting started! Oh well.

The door opened barely an inch wide, Donatello peeking out to see his younger brother looking back at him. A part of him wanted to close the door and get back to dressing up, but a larger part of him knew that Mikey seemed off and would only come to him if it was important. 

“What’s up, Angelo?” He turned and signed to Shelldon to activate his montage clean-up protocol. 

“Can I come in for a bit?” 

The purple turtle darted his eyes around. Once the coast was clear, he shoved the door the rest of the way open, Mikey walking through and taking his seat at his designated ‘staying out of Donnie’s way’ chair. 

“Whatever happened has to be bad. You’re actually sitting still for once.” Dee took his seat, but not before streams of glitter escaped the creases in his battleshell and onto the floor below. 

Angelo rolled his eyes, smirking. “Real rich coming from the living disco ball.” 

His expression shifted back to nervousness. “But yeah, I guess I’m looking for advice? You ever have to keep a secret, but it’s slowly ripping you apart inside no matter how happy the thing the secret is about makes you?”

His younger brother looked up at him with tired eyes, obviously going through it, wrought with emotional pain the soft-shell turtle tried his best to empathize with. Yet all he could think about were his secret meetings with Hypno.

“Oh, yeah, definitely. With like tech and stuff, totally only with that.” Donatello’s face twitched, flicking his invite out of view after a corner caught his eye. 

Play it cool, Donnie. Don’t let your face betray you. Dee’s eyes must’ve been as wide as he thought they were as Mikey stared at him, confused. Think fast, don’t blow your cover. 

The purple turtle forcibly rubbed his eyebrows off. 

“Are you okay, Donnie? I can come back later if-”

“What? Oh no, I’m fine! Just thought about trying something new with my brows later, it’s not important.”

“Cool…”

For the love of Gram Gram, help your brother. Don’t mention Darby, it’s that easy! 

“Mikey, I’m probably not the best person to talk to about this. Honestly, Raph would’ve been a better fit. But when it comes to secrets like that, sometimes it’s better to open up than keep it in.” Dee turned to look at his favorite drone.

“When Shelldon snuck off to join the Purple Dragons, he didn’t tell me until it was almost too late to save him. You would know since you gave me advice on how to talk to him. No matter how happy you are, if it’s hurting you this much to keep it a secret, the best thing to do is tell us. I promise no one’s gonna be mad at you. And if what you’re doing is dangerous, it’s better to know before you get hurt.” 

Angelo shifted in his seat. “You promise you aren’t gonna be mad?”

“Of course not, you’re my favorite brother. If it were Leo on the other hand,” the purple turtle chuckled, “oh he’d never hear the end of it.”

“Alright, feeling slightly better about everything now.” The box turtle sighed in relief. 

“So, I’ve been making art for this really cool guy and his partner. Met them about three months ago. And now I’m being paid and it’s amazing! But we’d also hang out not discussing work stuff, and I taught him how to cook! Well, cook better. We made a tart last week, I’ll show you!” Mikey pulled his phone out and scrolled to his most recent photos.

They were all selfies. Selfies with him, Hypno, and Warren around their chocolate tart, aprons covered in ganache as they laughed. He loved that day, but the guilt was killing him. Would it really be okay to come clean?

Michelangelo began to turn his phone to face Donnie, the same apprehension settling in his chest that arose when he tried to come clean about Piebald to Splinter while Leon threatened him with a frying pan. 

“I’m happy for ya, Miguel. These two have names, right? Unless it’s ghosts again, which as much as I hate to admit, are real.” This can’t be going where I think it’s going. Right?

“Nah, not ghosts. Or witches, like I’d ever have the chance to meet any.” He side-eyed his brother, stalling for time.

“Hey, I destroyed their town once! You weren’t even part of that episode. Whatever, doesn’t matter. You’re really looking for that photo, huh?” He’s stalling, shit. 

Oh no, Dee knows something’s up. Deep breaths, deep breaths. The orange turtle scrolled even faster, pacing back and forth in his camera roll like a tiger in a cage. 

He could do this. It was okay, he was okay. But the universe had other plans in the form of rumbling footsteps, belonging to none other than Raphael. 

“So I’m punching this guy and doves shoot out everywhere and they’re wearing little bowties? Like man, just get smoke bombs, they’re an animal-free solution for escaping! But yeah, after that, been thinking ‘bout how much I hate magicians. If I ever see another one of them, it’s on sight. Oh hey, guys!” Raph poked his head into Donatello’s lab, Casey Jr following behind him.

Mikey shoved his phone back into his shell. He exchanged a glance with Dee, the fear in both of their eyes flashing for a second, an instant understanding that faded just as fast. 

“Hey Raph, what are you up to?” Donnie posed unnaturally in his chair, elbow propped up on one of the chair arms with his hand up to his chin as his legs dangled over the other side, forcing himself to smile as his lips twitched. He was also more sparkly than Leo’s favorite movie vampire thanks to the glitter on him that would never go away.

Angelo, in all his brilliance, copied his brother (minus the glitter) as the two of them did the worst job of acting natural ever seen. 

“I could ask you two the same thing.” The Raph chasm deepened as the red turtle laid eyes upon the glitter piled at the base of Dee’s chair as well as the paint coating Mikey’s hands. Then it hit him. 

“Oh, sorry for barging in! Didn’t realize you were letting Mikey paint your shell. He did an amazing job retouching mine last week!” Raphael turned around to show off his shell, the spikes done in the colors of the pansexual flag. 

“So glad you still like it! And it’s alright, don’t worry about it! Hope you guys had a good time training! We’ll see you in the living room soon-ish.” Angelo said, jumping up and practically shooing Raph out. 

“See ya-” The door shut with a thunk. 

“Never thought he’d hate magicians.” Donnie mused aloud, screaming on the inside. 

“Yeah, that’s good to know. Would be a shame if someone we knew happened to be one.” Mikey felt his blood run cold, his confidence from before shredded to ribbons. 

“A real shame indeed…” The purple turtle looked up to see Mikey’s horrified expression. Oh boy.

“Hey Angelo, listen. What Raph thinks doesn’t matter. He’s harmless, we know that. Couldn’t even stab an evil puppet.” Donatello grabbed some pins and sticker pads from his filing cabinet. 

“A good friend of mine gave me these. Thought you might like them, too.” He passed the stickers to his brother, watching the orange turtle begin to light up. 

“These are so cool! I know the bi flag from Leo’s ‘trying to like women’ phase, but what about the rest?” Mikey asked if it were okay to start peeling them off the sheets to which Donnie nodded. 

“Well, the one you just pasted to your face is the asexual flag, and the one on your hand is the non-binary flag.” Dee giggled as his younger brother was now covered in stickers, slowly inching toward him to be covered in stickers too. 

“Do you like ‘em ‘cuz they’re purple or is it something else?” Angelo got Donnie’s permission to start covering his older brother’s battleshell in stickers, with biromantic, asexual, and non-binary pride proudly on display. 

“I just realized I never came out to you guys. A second time, at least. Got so caught up with my new friends that I forgot to tell you.” The purple turtle sheepishly began to twiddle his fingers. 

“Don’t worry, Dee. I’m happy for you. Cool new friends, cool new you.” Mikey peeled two longer stickers off a different pad, shaped like rainbow-colored infinity symbols. He put one over each spot Donnie’s brows would normally be, effectively upgrading them. 

“Thanks for the autism eyebrows, really appreciate it. And no, that wasn’t sarcasm. But, uh, thank you. Guess I really don’t spend time outside of you guys or my lab, so it’s all new. Kinda wish you could meet them.” Mikey wouldn’t know if I said Darby instead of Hypno, right? 

“Same, Don. Wanna see the art I made for my friends?” Dee wouldn’t know if I said Darby instead of Hypno, right? But from the way he reacted to the magicians thing. It can’t be…

“Sure thing, just gotta-” The purple turtle jumped up and shook himself off, glitter flying into the air in hazardous amounts, rhinestones launched into orbit. He could go back to outfit planning later.

The two crept back out of Dee’s lab, the door shutting snuggly behind them. Chatter rose in the kitchen, Casey Jr and Raph talking behind the orange and purple turtles' backs. It was out of concern. 

—

“Were they acting weird back there, or was it just me? ‘Cuz I’m starting to get worried.”

Raph had been worried for the past five months, ever since the first time Donnie snuck away for a night alone and returned at two in the morning. He was worried when Mikey began distancing himself from everyone else to get away some days, when Leo started claiming Saturdays as his day off from being the leader, shouldering the red turtle with the responsibility. But his suspicions were raising to a fever pitch. There was the undeniable mark of insidiousness afoot and he intended to get to the bottom of it. But how could he when every question asked was dodged? When they told him they were fine? 

“It’s hard to gauge when Donatello’s being weird. As for Mikey, he might be going through something? He had that same look in the other timeline after everyone died.” Casey dropped that casually, as if a normal thing to say.

“I’m not even going to entertain that. But you think so? I haven’t seen him that freaked out since a pizza box started floating at him in the middle of the night. Plus Donnie looks confident and not in a devious way for once. I just don’t know, Casey.” Raph sat back in his chair, eyes up to the ceiling, his mind screaming every way he could be failing his brothers at him.

“The best way to know is to ask. You know, invite everyone out and talk. We could work on notecards together if you think that’d help.” Jones sighed, reaching a hand out to his friend-brother-mentor-training buddy-you get the idea. 

Raph accepted it and pulled himself up, right before his chair would’ve toppled over. Casey was right, an outing could help. He scribbled the idea down on his left hand in magic marker. 

“Thanks. I think that would work.” The red turtle smiled, somewhat at ease, before a shiny piece of paper sticking out of his room caught his eye. It was pastel in color, with bright vermillion highlights. 

Raphael got up and grabbed it, giving it a once over before crushing the invite in one swift motion.

“I have just the place for us to go.”

***

Leonardo was outside when he received his invite to the wedding, a flock of doves harassing him as he jumped from rooftop to rooftop on his way to Hypno’s place. 

“Whatever you’re selling, I’m not interested!” He jumped again and dodge rolled onto the hippo’s roof, managing to avoid every bird except one which promptly smacked him in the face. 

Stunned, Leo barely had time to react as the dove dropped the invite on his head, its pastel colors overshadowed by the dark streaks of blue. He snatched it up and read the letter, screaming for joy. 

“You want me to be the ringbearer?!” The blue turtle shouted, eyes shining, making his way into Darby and Warren’s apartment via window. 

Startled, Hypno spun around to face his disciple. “Hello to you too, Leonardo.” 

This was the eighth time the turtle had jumpscared him since they properly met. The timing on this one was better than last time however, in his actual clothes for once rather than a bathrobe as he launched his mug across the room. 

—

The two had run into each other at Pride three weeks after Hypno and Donnie became friends. Dee wasn’t a fan of crowds, noise, people, or touching/being touched by anything outside of his control, so he sat Pride out. Leon, however, thrived in such an environment. 

He danced in the crowd, rainbows painted all over his body with the help of Mikey, peacocking for attention to prove himself as the gayer twin. He’d show Donnie up, he needed to. Be the very best, prove to the universe he had rightfully earned his spot in it. Self-sacrificing, a martyr, show-off. Pride was supposed to be fun, but every little action was under heavy scrutiny by Leo and Leo alone. So he’d pretend it was to be better than Dee, that his brother had anything to do with the way he tore himself apart inside. He was so very tired. 

When he saw Warren and Hypno in the crowd, he had every intention of starting a fight. Get the villains out , he thought to himself. But Leo couldn’t find it in himself to try. 

Darby wore his hair long, braided back with pride pins interlaced, blue eyeshadow and glossy mascara on his face, an enormous rainbow flag draped over his shoulders as he spun with Warren. The worm’s usual jacket was now decked out in pins, the most prominent one being the bisexual pin on his lapel, purple, red, and blue streaks dyed in his hair, a cascade of colored glitter shining off his body in the sunlight. A pair so dazzling and resplendent, eye-catching and opulent. The crowd cheered the couple on, a dance circle forming. 

The blue turtle remembered jealousy clawing at him, the attention pulled far away from his direction. He made his way over to the edge of the circle, on his tip-toes to sneak a glance at his competition. In the midst of the chaos, cheers, and screams of happiness, Leonardo caught Hypno’s eye. The hippo mutant signaled him to join in, a smile on his lips. 

Leo portalled his way to the front, ready to have it all turn to his favor, his hand firmly attached to his odachi. And yet-

“You looked down, thought you could use a boost!” The hippo reached a hand out to the blue turtle, an invitation to dance.

“I swear, if this is some weird mind trick of yours.” Leon was hesitant to let go of his weapon and accept Hypno’s offer. Understandable given his last memorable interaction with the man was him bending reality at The Magic Townhouse. 

“No tricks at Pride. Care to dance? They’re waiting for us.” Darby gestured to the crowd. 

Leonardo sighed, his shoulders untensing. “Fine. But the first sign that you’re up to something, I’ll portal you to Tahiti.” 

“Well with Tahiti on the table, now I’m tempted.” The hippo smirked. Leo glared. 

“I’m kidding, I promise. Just follow my lead.” 

Leo took Darby’s hand in his, still apprehensive, but shoving the feeling down in favor of trust for once. The standard of friendship had been lowered to anything not immediately trying to kill him. And in a sea of people out-pouring nothing but love, eyes on him and Hypno, dancing in spirals as the crowd cheered them on, the thoughts telling him he wasn’t good enough were soon extinguished. This could be pleasant. 

It took a few moments, but Leon began to completely relax. Cracking awful jokes with the crowd, dancing on his own with Hypno and Warren’s encouragement, confidently in his element. 

“Y’all wanna see me do a flip?” The blue turtle began to hype everybody up, pulling out his swords. 

“Leo! Leo! Leo!” The tide of queer folks chanted his name, only making the slider more cocky. 

“Here! I! Go!” Leonardo jumped up, dashing into the air swiftly, winking at the crowd. He swung his odachis in a circular motion, creating two portals to bounce between. 

“Portal flip! I’ll be back in a flash!” Flipping in mid-air, upside down, eyes to the portal, he could’ve sworn he heard someone laugh. He shifted his gaze to see who.

A tall white rabbit mutant (?) stood out among everyone else, ears tied back to resemble a ponytail. He had a sword slung over his shoulder, wearing an informal outfit of jeans and a blue t-shirt with text that said ‘born this way'. Two rainbow flags were painted into the fur of each cheek, prominently on display, a pain to wash off later. Once he caught Leo looking at him, winked at the turtle, eager to watch him finish his trick. 

Woah, that guy’s hot. And he winked at me?! Yes! Death to the single life! Leo was so caught up in his thoughts, blushing like an idiot, that he almost missed the portal entirely. 

Jumping through, he pointed his exit portal to where the rabbit guy stood, landing elegantly on his feet just inches from the lad. 

“Hey there, name’s Leonardo but you can call me Leo. Saw you admiring my skills.” He very unsubtly flexed one arm. 

“You know, you’re pretty swift for a turtle. You can call me Yuichi. It’s nice meeting you, Leo.” The rabbit slipped Leon a small slip of paper, a ten digit code written on it. “You gotta refer me to your sword guy, they’re almost as handsome as you. Hoping to see more of you later!”

Leo stood dumbfounded as Yuichi waved goodbye and walked through the crowd, heading off to one of the many other events at Pride. The turtle’s mind was a mess of queer screaming, not a single coherent thought to be found.

“Good going, turtle! That’s impressive,” Hypno commented, making his way over. He was proud of his new companion, wishing things were that easy when he was Leo’s age.  

“I know, right! But he gave me this paper, and I don’t know what it means. Please help,” the blue turtle practically begged, showing the strip off to his new acquaintances. 

“That’s his phone number, dumbass,” Warren said, perched on his fiance’s shoulder. The worm had watched the whole ordeal unfold but knew from that point that the turtle was a gay disaster.

“Hey! Wait, really? No one’s ever given me their number before,” Leo squeaked out sheepishly, a rainbow dumpster fire, so very excited yet monumentally lost. 

Warren and Darby exchanged a glance, the kind of glance reserved for queer folks that needed guidance. They knew the blue turtle needed their help, and Stone knew better than anyone that Hypno wished to make amends with each turtle after befriending Donnie. 

“Care to stick with us and head back to our apartment? You can’t flirt to save your life, but we can help,” The hippo offered, hopeful Leo would say yes. 

Leon considered the offer for a moment, suspicious. He could say no, text the guy, and fail miserably at engaging in basic flirting. Or he could learn from two queer villains that seemed generally okay with his continued existence and just wanted to keep him from embarrassing himself. Decisions, decisions. 

“What’s in it for you?” The blue turtle raised an eyebrow. Or did he? Not sure if he has those. 

“Given your sorry state, all I ask is that you make us proud. He already likes you, which makes this easier.” Darby gestured for Leo to follow him. He didn’t want this poor kid to fail, especially after Donnie told him how Leonardo had been whining about being single.

“Fine. Thank you. It’s just, he’s hot! Like hot hot. And he likes my swords and my, well, me. Wow, he actually likes me!” 

Leon sure was feeling the spectrum of emotions that come with realizing you’re desirable to someone, hands shaking with overwhelming joy. Dee called it stimming once, but Leo was sure he wasn’t autistic or had ADHD (yeah right, buddy). 

The sun began to hang lower in the sky, pink and gold tones filling the horizon line. Floats made their way past as the trio walked along, moving through the crowd to get back home. The train stations were swarmed by young queers returning to their lives outside of this, colorful merchandise scattered along the sidewalk, a lesbian flag mostly unscathed jutting out of a pole. Leo picked it up for April. 

“How ‘bout I just portal us back to your place? Faster and easier than walking all the way back,” Leonardo said, preparing to swing his odachi yet again that day.

“We’re by Chelsea Pier, right?” Hypno held Warren up to scope the street signs. The worm nodded. “Shouldn’t be more than a ten minute walk from here. Not that I don’t trust your skills, Leo. Just enjoying the route.” 

“Oh, alright.” The blue turtle put his sword away, looking up to the sky as they turned a corner. 

A glance down the street showed a clear view of the Hudson River six blocks down, ferries taxiing their way between Manhattan and Brooklyn. The bridge connecting the boroughs was packed, the twinkling headlights of evening traffic visible even from the turtle’s vantage point. Bikes weaved in and out around cars, and the distant rumble of the F train could be heard below as they passed yet another station. The city was bustling and lively, every inch bursting with life. It didn’t take much for Leon to understand why the couple enjoyed walking home. 

Well, that was until a car went through the light and nearly ran them over, but anyone’s that lived in NYC could tell you that experience is your birthright. 

Hypno and Warren’s apartment was up a side street, three blocks away from the sewer Leo and his family called home. It was a marked improvement from the last one, most notable by the outer wall still being intact and not broken down Kool-Aid Man style. Only a short walk up lead to their door, blue in color with the number 89B stamped under the peephole. Like a typical New York apartment, many would assume it to be an overpriced closet of a space. Yet on the inside…

“Remember that night I trapped you and your brothers in an illusion and stole Houdini’s journals?” Darby asked, unlocking the door.

Leonardo’s eyes narrowed. “How could I forget? Everyone stole my spotlight that night. Oh, and you were dead set on bending reality to your whim.”

“Ah, what a lovely night.” The hippo mused before continuing. “Well, before you took every journal back with you, I copied down the one spell that seemed the most practical.” He pulled on the doorknob and ushered the turtle inside.

Everything seemed normal at first until he looked closer. It was massive in there. An impossible number of rooms to fit an ever-expanding amount of space. Almost as if the apartment were being stretched outside of time and space. The glory of magic on full display, mocking theoretical science by making the theorized-to-be-impossible possible. 

Leo walked in wide-eyed, in complete awe. Donatello would burst a blood vessel in here, but not his twin.

Nardo was enamored with magic, soaking in its commanding power to inspire and delight. He knew card tricks, was decent with disappearing acts, and shoddy with reappearing acts, but not even close to being as proficient as Hypno. This was far above his paygrade, each step making the spell work harder to keep up, and all he could do was look on with bated breath. 

“I take it that you’re enjoying this?” The hippo mutant said, unclipping the flag from his shirt before setting it down. He felt some pride in knowing his magic could still have the effect of delighting an audience, even if used in mundane contexts. 

“After the flirting lessons, can you teach me how to do magic? Like real magic?” A poster floated by the turtle’s head, an outdated one displaying Hypno’s old stage name and appearance. 

He had used to teach, but it was party tricks to children at birthday parties and bar mitzvahs. Nothing fulfilling, not like now with actual magic powers. 

“I’ll consider it. Always nice to meet another magic lover such as myself. But still, one thing at a time.” 

“Thank you, Hypno.” Leo smiled, excited by the prospect that he might learn more about his passion. 

“Anytime. And for the sake of names, you can call me Darby.” 

The blue turtle snatched the poster out of the air. “Wasn’t your stage-name Mesmer-Ron?”

Hypno snapped his fingers and the poster jumped to him before catching fire and reducing to ash. “Hence why it’s a stage name. Real name’s Darby, going by Ron was just to sound more American. It did not work. The pun wasn’t even that good, honestly.” 

“Ah, I get it. Tried going by NeonLeon a couple of years ago for skating tricks. Colossal failure.” 

“Because of the name?” The hippo raised an eyebrow and signaled the turtle over to the kitchen table. Warren had put a kettle on for tea, the whistling becoming ever more prominent with each passing second, until being plucked off the burner by Darby. 

“You could say that.” Leo shrugged his shoulders as his mind replayed clips of him falling face-first into concrete at least seventy times. 

Three tea cups with spoons, milk, sugar, and saucers descended upon the table, each person making their selection of tea bag (Warren filled his cup with a five-hour energy), before adding the water. 

Leonardo dumped spoonfuls of sugar into his cup of peppermint tea, a ratio of 1:1. Hypno stared on in horror, adding only a teaspoon to his drink instead.

“Remind me to break out the Milo powder for you next time. I believe it’d be a better fit.” Not quite British as a Kiwi, the hippo still felt an indescribable pain in his chest every time someone fucked up a cup of tea. But he shoved those feelings down, as it wasn’t his drink and he didn’t have to care. He could still be petty, however.

“What’s Milo powder?”

Do not get into a long spiel about your home country or all of its lovely offerings. Just be brief and then immediately get into helping this poor soul flirt. That’s it. The hippo thought, digging his nails into the edge of the table. 

“It’s a chocolate drink mix. Quite nice. But that can wait for a different day.” Darby summoned a piece of paper and a pen to the table. 

“Leo, as soon as you can, you are going to text that young man. Did you get a good read of his energy? And before you even say it, ‘hot’ is not an energy.”

“Oh, um,” Leon pulled his phone out and entered Yuichi’s number. “He seemed really cool and mysterious? But he laughed at my puns, so a dork. He’s a dork that likes swords and men.” 

Hypno scribbled everything Leo said down as quickly as the turtle said it, determined to get something going.

Warren sipped his disaster cocktail of sleeplessness and sighed before saying, “yeah, we can work with that.”

—

Which brings us back to the present.

“Oh, Darby, almost forgot to ask, would it be alright if I brought Yuichi to the wedding as my date? It’d be our tenth date together!” Leo pleaded, jumping in from the window and into the hippo’s magical apartment. 

Without Hypno and Warren’s advice, the turtle never would’ve gotten this far. He had fulfilled his end of the bargain, making his honorary uncle proud. 

“Only on one condition,” Darby said, shutting the window behind his friend.

“Anything!”

“No proposing at the wedding,” Hypno teased, happy for the lad and all his luck. 

“Pro-propose? Are you crazy?” The turtle sputtered, turning as red as his markings. “I haven’t even introduced him to my family yet.”

“So they still think you’re single?” The whole point of this was to help Donatello not deal with his brother’s cries for a boyfriend, but you happened to find a drama queen. Wonderful. 

“Yeah, pretty much.” Leonardo began to pace back and forth. “Can’t tell my dads since Splinter would never stop embarrassing me and Barry would join in, or Big Mama since she’d try to get him killed at the Battle Nexus. Mikey and Raph would judge him and Donnie would try to study him since he came out of a wormhole. The only one that really knows besides you and Warren is Heuso since Yuichi works for him part-time. Running out of options, muchacho.” 

Okay, might’ve misjudged. Not a drama queen, just trapped. What’s that phrase that Michelango taught me? Darby thought to himself, trying to sound relatable.

“Cowabummer, dude.” Nailed it.

Leo practically choked and stopped in his tracks. “Yeah, cowabummer!”

The hippo mutant sighed, knowing he had fucked up.

“Listen, it’s going to be just fine. You have permission to bring your boyfriend to the wedding. Everyone gets a plus one, but you’re the only person I’m telling that to. I know that fear, that your family is going to rain hell upon you. If they do, it’ll pass in time. If it doesn’t, you can always call for me.”

“What would you even do? Hypnotize them into being cordial?” Leon narrowed his eyes at his mentor.

Darby began to fiddle with a string on his jacket, eyes down to the floor. “That’s plan B.” 

“What about plan A?”

“We’ll burn that bridge when we get to it.”

“Cool, so it was just plan B. But thank you, I appreciate it.” The blue turtle began to calm down a bit before a fun realization came to mind. 

“You know, it’s kinda funny. If I had a nickel for every purple villain in my immediate friend group and family, I’d have two and a half nickels.”

Hypno raised an eyebrow. “Where are you getting half a nickel from?”

“Have you met Donnie?” Leo scoffed.

The hippo began to sweat. Of course he had met Donnie. Donnie was his favorite, the one most like him in theatrical respects. The one he had promised not to blow the cover of under any circumstances. Play dumb!

“Oh, him? I’ve seen him, I think? What color is he again?” Not that dumb!

“Purple… are you okay? You seem really anxious.” Leonardo cocked his head to the side, confused and somewhat concerned. 

“I’m so sorry, don’t mind me at all! Just some pre-wedding jitters. Started thinking about getting everything in order before next Saturday.” He’s smarter than that, he won’t buy it.

“Completely understandable.” Leo gave Darby a thumbs up before pulling out his odachis. “Which reminds me, your order is ready!”

The turtle swung his blades carefully so as to not destroy the hippo’s kitchen. A large blue portal soon opened which Leonardo hopped through before it closed. A few minutes passed until the portal reappeared, massive bags filled to the brim with party favors up each of the turtle’s arms. All bags slid off his arms as he promptly dumped everything on the floor.

Several bars with shiny red and green wrapping caught the hippo’s eye. “Did you-?”

“Get the limited edition Milo kitkats? Yes, yes I did. Also checked in with the hotel for your honeymoon, you’re all set there.” He handed Hypno a few papers before continuing. 

“Four out of six of these bags have your wedding favors, and there’s a bag of stuff that’s just for you. And this last one’s mine!” Leo dipped his hand into his stuff, yanking out a block of chocolate. 

“Enjoy it! Thank you very much, Leo. You have no idea how expensive shipping is.” Hypno snapped his fingers, the items on the floor collecting themselves into boxes, safely stored away.

“Eh, it’s no big deal.” The blue turtle shrugged before checking the clock on the wall. “Oh shit, it’s getting late. Raph’s gonna be starting up our movie marathon soon and I said I was out getting snacks. See you tomorrow, Darby!” 

“See you tomorrow, Leo.” Hypno watched as Leonardo jumped out his window, backflipping onto the roof of a neighboring building before portalling home. What an odd lad.

***

“So I pour it like this?” A full cup of paint shook in Dee’s hand, dripping in circles around a large stretched canvas. The colors picked were pyrrole red, ultramarine blue, fluorescent orange, cobalt violet, and titan pale green. 

For the past fifty minutes, Mikey had been teaching Donnie how to make art. Namely acrylic pours like the ones he was making for the wedding. It started after his older brother saw what he’d been working on, eager to engage with his younger brother’s interest on a more personal level while Angelo infodumped about paint.

The piece Mikey had made earlier sat in a corner drying, lilac purple with orange and gold lines along the surface. Donnie had taken a liking to it and wanted to recreate the painting by himself. Or so he said. He had picked the wrong colors for a recreation.

“Yeah, you’re doing great.” Angelo had relaxed, the two of them sitting on the floor as he showed Donatello each step. It didn’t even feel like he was finishing his commissions with his brother by his side, opting to have a good time instead. 

Donathan dumped the rest of his cup on the canvas, sliding the paint around to coat the center before lifting it and tapping the corners against the plastic-wrapped floor until each inch was lacquered in bright colors. 

“Aha! Behold my masterpiece!” Dee proudly proclaimed, walking his pour to the drying zone. 

“It’s really nice, Donnie. I like the colors you picked, reminds me of all of us.” Michelangelo gazed at the painting, eyes drawn to the streaks of red, spots of orange, pools of purple, and pops of blue as the green tied it all together.

“That’s what I was going for.” Donatello smiled as he tried to rub the paint off his hands. “I’m beginning to see why you like doing this. Haven’t experienced a thought in roughly five minutes and was starting to get concerned until I realized I was enjoying myself.”

Mikey laughed, pulling more cups and paint over, anxiety firmly in the background. He was okay, he didn’t have to keep secrets, and his brother had his back no matter what. Angelo should’ve felt ecstatic, but still didn’t know if Donnie knew about Hypno. They both reacted to Raph’s anti-magician talk, both shooting each other a glance that seemed to say it all, and yet he didn’t know. For now, it’d be better to remain in the dark. 

“Wanna watch me make a butterfly with a chain?” The orange turtle pulled one of those chains made of tiny ball bearings from a drawer before dunking it into bright blue paint. 

“Sure thing, Michael.” 

Dee couldn’t remember the last time he actually relaxed. Always on edge, especially after they defeated the Kraang. Like if at any moment the world would collapse in on itself, that he and his brothers stood as Atlas holding the Earth up on their shoulders. 

No number of movie marathons, reluctant hugs, or reassurance that the people he loved were okay helped. Stuck running in circles, slight panic enveloping his mind at any given moment. The closest he had gotten before this point was having someone to talk to about all that happened in the form of Hypno; who then referred the turtle to a good therapist. 

Therapy was going fine and dandy, the unfortunate soul was a tad underqualified to deal with problems of a magnitude such as Donnie’s, but tried their best regardless. They suggested he find a coping mechanism beyond the purple turtle burying himself in his work until the odd hours of the night. Before this moment, he had one in the form of dress-up and theatrical monologuing with Darby. But now, Donatello found something not only good for himself but to be closer to his brother. Thank the gods for art. 

“All you gotta do now is pull it.” Mikey guided Dee’s hand, the chain following through to make the impression of butterfly wings in manganese blue over a canvas filled in with titanium white. 

“Wow, that’s impressive. Some very fine skills you’ve curated.” The soft shell turtle looked on in awe of their simple but pretty painting, taking a photo to commemorate the occasion before Angelo set it aside to dry. 

“Thanks, Dee. That’s really ni-”

*BOOM*

“I’m okay!” The familiar tone of a certain blue turtle’s voice broke through the silence that followed his unceremonious faceplant into the sewer.

“Leo! What the-?” Raph was cut off as the sound of a bag loaded with things flew through the air and landed in the kitchen. 

“Snacks! Be right back!”

Mikey and Donnie peeked out to see Leonardo sprinting down the hallway back to his room. He was wearing an ‘I Love New Zealand’ t-shirt that he scrunched to hide once he caught sight of his brothers. 

“New Zealand, huh?” Donathan impossibly raised an eyebrow. He couldn’t possibly know who I think he knows. 

Think fast, Nardo. “Oh like you’d have a better suggestion for where to get good movie snacks.”

“How ‘bout the bodega on 51st Street? Or literally any grocery store?” 

“I was feeling adventurous, alright? See ya in the living room.” Leo pulled the door to his room shut. 

“So are we just supposed to ignore that like we ignore the rabbit fur on his clothes?” Mikey asked, he and Donnie getting back up on their feet before leaving his room. 

Donatello didn’t answer.

It all makes sense now! Rabbit fur from magic tricks, going out for long stretches of time, the way Darby didn’t text me back about how Pride went. Now that t-shirt! I should’ve known, all the signs were there. But why didn’t Hypno just tell me? I mean, he did promise to cover for me, so it only makes sense he’d cover for Leo. And honestly, he most likely knows Mikey, too. He and Warren wouldn’t stop talking about how they got a new guy to paint for the wedding a few months ago and now this? It lines up well. Too well. But why would Raph say he hates magicians? Was it to throw me off? But he sounded so sincere. Fuck! Maybe none of them know each other and I’m overthinking things. It’s one thing to recognize a pattern, but it’s all just coincidences at the moment. Nothing solid. Perhaps I am but a humble Icarus, flying too close to the Hypno conspiracy serving as the sun!

“Donnie? Donnie? Are you with me? Come on, Dee, it’s movie time.” Mikey waved a hand in front of his older brother’s face, the purple turtle’s eyes refocusing to join the outside world away from his thoughts. 

“Sorry, Miguel. Was busy connecting the dots.” Donnie sat back in his usual spot, smirking.

“You didn’t connect shit!” Leo burst into the room, grabbing a piece of chocolate from the snack bowl. What dots? What does that even mean? 

“I’ve connected them.” Dee remained smug as he reached for the candy, passing some to Mikey as well. 

Raph booted up Splinter’s projector, rolling his eyes. “Y’all can argue later. It’s Jupiter Jim time!” 

The lights soon went out, movie theater darkness surrounding the boys as well as anyone else in the house that cared to join. It’d be a quiet and pleasant evening, the sound of laser blasters and cheesy special effects filling the air. For just a moment, it felt as though they were little kids again. That nothing had changed and all was right with the world. 

But peace can only last so long before being disturbed, the unsettling feeling that each one was hiding something from the other silently creeping in the background. 

It’s alright, I’ll tell them after the wedding. A shared thought between Leo, Donnie, and Mikey. All worried for different reasons, trying so hard to avoid an eruption of secrecy spilling all at once. 

Raphael, however, had a slight and determined smile on his lips, eyes to the screen ahead with a plan in mind. I’ll keep you all safe, just gotta crash that ‘wedding’. 

Chapter Text

Hypno-Potamus woke up with a blaring migraine, his phone ringing into oblivion far from helpful.

The wedding was set for tomorrow, a fact shirked by his previous DJ that sent a text simply stating that Darby didn’t pass the vibe check before canceling entirely. 

“Oh, are you fucking kidding me?” The hippo groaned, trying hard not to wake Warren who lay in bed beside him, completely exhausted. 

Hypno pulled his black eye mask with silver stitching up before pressing the ‘cancel call’ button, knowing that if it were so important they’d leave a message. Which appeared minutes later in the form of a voicemail, from the same DJ, who just wanted to confirm that he had indeed canceled and the exact reasons for why. 

If the hippo mutant could explode people with his mind, he would’ve. He hadn’t ever tried before, but it’s best not to start a new skill at six in the morning. It could be scheduled for later, now it was time for a backup plan. Someone with the skills, that would be there no matter what, and was proficient in handling musical equipment. 

Darby called Donnie. 

***

Donatello woke to a ringing phone and pressure headache, the former feeding into the latter far too well. 

“Oh, you’ve gotta be kidding me.” The turtle swiped around for his phone, desperate to stop the sound before his brothers woke up. 

He almost pressed the ‘cancel call’ button before seeing it was Hypno. As much as he cared for the guy, being disturbed from one’s slumber by anyone was indeed a dick move. 

Dee rolled his tired eyes and pressed ‘accept’, keeping his voice to a hoarse whisper in case anyone happened to be listening. 

“You’re now conversing with Donatello. It is an ungodly hour.”

“I am so sorry for waking you, Donnie. It’s just, my DJ canceled five minutes ago and I panicked and called you. Would you be willing to take on that role instead? You’d still be my best man.” The hippo mutant pleaded, whispering on his end as well. 

“Yeah man, sounds great.” Is what Donathan said on the outside. On the inside it was more like: This couldn’t have waited until five hours from now? AHHHH! Kill me, just kill me. 

“Thank you! I owe you plenty.” Hypno knew his days were numbered from Dee’s tone alone, but remained grateful. 

With the wedding thirty-six hours away, everything needed to go perfectly. Despite only hosting twenty-five guests, it still needed to be fabulous, a splendid display of romance and glamour. If not to impress his guests, then solely for Warren and himself.

“Anytime. Now go back to bed. I’ll see you at noon for set-up.” With that, the purple turtle smacked the ‘end call’ button before throwing his phone aside and promptly passing out yet again. 

***

Several Hours Later

Things were getting desperate by the time Donnie arrived to help set up the wedding venue. He could hear Darby’s phone erupting with a swarm of texts and incoming calls, each one answered with a swift tap to the screen, dismissing any and all notifications. 

Hypno glanced out as soon as he heard the door open, rushing over once he saw it was Dee. If anyone could fix this, it’d be him. 

“Donnie, oh thank the gods you’re here!” The hippo mutant was practically drowning in a sea of uncertainty, sweating with each second his screen would light up. 

Not only had the DJ canceled, so had the professional singer he had hired for his special dance with Warren after the ceremony. Each subsequent call was from every singer he had tried to hire to replace the last one, all last minute. They were all canceling, too. It was nothing short of nightmare fuel and Hypno had barely slept. 

“Why wouldn’t I be? After hearing you pleading at six in the AM, I knew I couldn’t skip set-up. And another thing, woah-” The purple turtle looked up to face Darby only to get a sight full of the most unhinged makeup he’d ever seen. “Did you do your eyeliner in the dark? Geez, man.” 

The turtle held a mirror up to his friend’s face. The hippo nearly screamed. 

“No one told me!” Hypno began to rub at his eyes, grateful that the person he trusted to be completely honest with him was, albeit it a tad harshly. His mascara practically flaked off.

“I have so much going on, Donathan. So very much! Since this morning, I’ve had eight people cancel on me. Not a single replacement wants to be a replacement, except for you, and that’s still barely. And now this wretched thing,” Darby held up his phone, the screen cracking from forcibly ending calls, “won’t stop going off. I don’t want to ask more of you than I already have, but I just might.”

He gestured for the turtle to follow him to a side room at the venue, which was a massive courtyard between two industrial buildings once used for processing salt from the ocean, now a proud area converted for culinary delights and artistic visions. There was a table with two chairs once you walked into the first building and turned to your right, the very spot soon occupied by Donnie and Hypno. 

Dee plucked the hippo’s phone from his hand with one of his thin mechanical arms, replacing the cracked glass before putting the device into ‘do not disturb’ mood. 

“Fixed your life. Now, what exactly do you need me to do, besides the first thing.” He pulled out his dj-ing equipment, fitted with a curated playlist of grooves and jams for all-purpose needs. 

“Wow, it really was that easy. Thank you.” Darby shoved his phone into his pocket. “Once they find out about the whole attempting to murder a bunch of high school students to one-up a teenager incident, they no longer feel like working with me.” 

“What the absolute fuck, Hypno?” Donatello said, monotone as ever. It didn’t quite surprise him, April told him when it happened, but hearing the hippo mutant admit it gave him pause. 

“The power kinda went to my head. It’s all ridiculous looking back. We all have regrets.” Darby’s eyes were downcast to the tabletop, guilty. 

“Ever kill a man, Donnie?” It was followed by a chuckle, not at all serious, and yet.

“Who’s asking?” The turtle’s eye twitched. Hypno shot him an uneasy glance. “Oh, you were kidding. Same!” 

“Hehe, yeah.” Nervous laughter.

“Moving on,” Darby pulled a few sheets of paper out and passed them across the table, “have you ever considered singing professionally?

All thoughts and rememberings of possible homicide went out the window as soon as Donatello saw the sheet music. He had no qualms about singing, especially not about singing in public. This is going to be wonderful! Utterly fantastic! Lemme look over the lyrics real fast… oh. 

“Hey Hypno,” Dee started, “as amazing as your offer is, and I would love nothing more than to accept! This isn’t exactly our usual style. I was thinking Queen, not ‘Dom Fera’.” 

The hippo sighed and sunk down in his seat. “I know. Warren picked this one out, said it reminded him of when we met. I’ve got ‘Good Old-Fashioned Lover Boy’ lined up to be sung as well if that interests you.”

Donnie weighed the pros and cons in his mind. He had the range, no worries there. No, the songs weren’t the issue, mostly. In a way, it was him. 

Dee was never one to attend parties, the sound, lighting, and crowds being a strong enough repellent. The only parties worth going to were the ones with his brothers in attendance, a large enough distraction from his own issues that they would be all he’d focus on, like a cat in the corner of the living room. And yet, for once, Donnie was solely by himself. Hypno and Warren would be there, sure, but it was their special day. Couldn’t exactly cling to them. No, he’d be alone. No amount of falsely inflated confidence could fill the void he felt grow within him. This was gonna suck. 

“Fine, I’ll do it. But only five songs. You’ve already picked out two, so,” Donnie said begrudgingly, shuffling the papers Hypno had handed him and placing them in his shell. Being woken up far too early rubbed him the wrong way, along with his whole not wanting to be there, the purple turtle was snappy. More snappy than usual at least. 

“Oh, um, of course.” Darby began to get up, the sound of someone calling his name from outside catching his attention. “I feel like I’m stressing you out, so I’ll leave you be for a few. You don’t have to help set up, I mean that. Warren managed to get someone to come over. She can handle it.” 

Dee pinched the bridge of his non-existent nose, this not being the result he was going for. “It’s not that. I just, I really need coffee. Didn’t really sleep much after the literal wake-up call. And before you say it, it’s not your fault. Once I’m up, I’m simply too aware to go back to sleep. For long, at least.” 

Hypno regarded him with tired eyes as he gestured for the purple turtle to follow him. “I get it. There’s a beverage station to the side here.”

They walked back outside to the courtyard; fairylights and an arch were already put together and placed in their respective areas. A trellis, leaves interlacing the wood paneling as grape vines drooped and slithered around the legs of the gardening tool, stood high above the area where seats were being unfolded and maneuvered to their rightful spots. Among the seats stood a familiar face, one Donatello would’ve immediately noticed had he not been attempting to drown himself in a nearby coffee pot. 

Oh, that is way better! I know Raph said adding a coffee maker to my battleshell is impractical, but now I’m considering it. Dee thought to himself, blissfully unaware he was being stared at.

“Donnie?” 

The new voice dragged him out of his need for caffeine, yanking his head away from his only saving grace.

“April?! What are you doing here?” Startled, the glass pot in his hands fell back onto the table below, thankfully not shattering to pieces. 

“Turns out being a Stone-Head means you can be called on for ‘emergency favors’. I’d complain if they weren’t paying me.” She shrugged her shoulders, dragging another chair into place before taking a break. “Now why are you here?”

“Oh me? I was simply strolling around the neighborhood, thought I’d stop in.” You’d think with all the new lessons in theatrics, Donnie would be a better liar. Or at the very least, more believable.

“Dee, you know that ain’t gonna fly with me. And even if that were true, we’re in Brooklyn. Can’t imagine you walking across the bridge for a ‘stroll’.” April took a seat in one of the chairs, patting one so Donatello would sit beside her. He followed her lead. 

“Why don’t you tell me why you’re really here? I won’t tell anyone else, it’ll be between us.” 

Donnie had a choice. Avoid or be open. He had always been avoidant. Avoid danger, avoid feelings. The purple turtle tried to avoid the guilt of this situation, but that only made it worse. The feeling would claw at him, the boy not suited for this type of secrecy. Perhaps it was time to take a page out Raph’s playbook. It was time to be honest. 

“You aren’t going to tell my brothers? You swear?” 

“I wouldn’t do that to you, Dee. All I’m asking is that you’re open with me.”

“Emotional vulnerability is hard for me, you already know that. But I’ll try.” Donnie took a deep breath and steadied himself before continuing.

“It started back in May, at the absolute shittest bar in NYC. Every single sharpie I owned, new and spare alike, had dried up completely. So I’m walking around trying to find a Staples and they’re all closed. I was eyebrowless and desperate so I rolled into the nearest drinking establishment. And they were there, Warren and Hypno.” The turtle paused to look up, taking in the view of the Atlantic Ocean from his vantage point.

“They didn’t have to help me, especially after just getting engaged, but did it anyway. We got to talking. Darby filled me in on his backstory, the worm was a nuisance, and I had an identity crisis. But I was happy. It was the most happy I’d been since we saved Leo. Like I was learning how to live again. And we stayed friends ever since. It’s like I’ve got two queer uncles now, which further proves that not one member of our family is straight.” Donnie chuckled but there was no humor in it. 

“Hypno and I meet up at least once a week. I show him everything I’ve created for that point in time and he tells me that he’s proud of me. We swap interests, go to age-appropriate drag shows, dress up and act out scenes from plays. He even tried staying awake for my entire presentation on how flux capacitors work! He convinced me to open up about my other interests, to be accepted for every part of who I am! I’ve gotten so much from him, he even made me his best man, and yet I still haven’t told my family.”

The warmth and wetness on his cheeks began to feel familiar, all too well declaring his mix of emotions. Donnie never thought he’d become accustomed to crying, and yet here he was. It felt wonderful to let out the secret, a weight lifting off his chest with each word. But fear outweighed joy, the rock sinking yet again. 

“Well, you told me, so check one name off the list.” April reached out and asked if she could pat the purple turtle on the back. He nodded. 

“Dee, listen, I know you probably think the best course of action is lying, but that can’t be further from the truth.” She held his hands in hers. He didn’t pull away. 

“When we almost lost Leo, we were all terrified. I understand that reliving that moment over and over again will mess with you. That you feel like you don’t deserve to be happy. But trust me when I say you’re allowed to express those feelings and talk about your interests. I promise.”

“It’s not only that. I just don’t know to gauge their reaction to me actually befriending a villain. It took them so long to come around to Draxum after Mikey wore him down. What would they even think of this?” Donatello glanced over to Darby and Warren, watching the couple exchange tired smiles before moving along with setting up. 

“Donnie, you gotta remember that we love you for you. It doesn’t matter if you’re friends with two ex-villains. They’re also the least threatening foes we’ve faced.”

“Really? Darby almost made your entire high school disappear. I’d say that’s pretty threatening.” 

“Given the last two years, that barely makes my top ten near-death experiences list, Don.” April rolled her eyes with a smirk before continuing.

“It might take an awkward dinner or two, but I’m sure your folks are gonna accept them. Kinda have the feeling Mikey already got to them, too. But yeah, you’ve got the April O’Neil guarantee.”

“Wow, April. Thank you.” Donatello wiped at his eyes with a mechanical arm, grabbing tissues from his battleshell. “I’m glad I can call you my sister.”

“Love you too, Donnie. Now help a sister out and start unfolding more chairs with me.” She sprung from her seat, running to grab more folding chairs after catching sight of Warren, the worm squinting in their general direction.

“Of course.” 

The two made short work of getting the chairs together, three neat rows of five on either side of the aisle. Fake flowers supplied in the form of bouquets via Hypno were woven throughout and around the venue, cracks in the red brick wall that surrounded them filled in with neon petals. It would be dull work if done alone, but April and Donnie (along with all of Donnie’s metal arms working at top speed) brought fun into the situation. Well, that was until they had to put up the tent.

The tent itself sat folded in repose, all white with six metal legs to keep it stable jutting out. It had once belonged to the set of Darby’s traveling magic show in a previous life, given a new purpose for the sake of the wedding. It was also hiding from view, completely unable to be found. So the two began their quest to find the tent’s owner. 

—

Hypno stood inside the dressing room, up on the second floor away from everyone else. The hippo figured he may as well try to get some time to simply relax, perhaps sit down with a good book, anything really. Dee had the right idea with the coffee, but the hippo mutant’s idea of stress relief was ever so slightly different. Tea and a good read. Very tea forward. On thin ice, almost committing the crime of being British. 

He sunk down into a chair near the door, pulling up his reading material of choice on his tablet. An ancient website flashed across the screen; ‘fanfiction.net’. The day may have had a rough start, but at least he could peruse ‘Interview With A Vampire’ (1994) fics in peace. 

Indulging himself with all the things denied in his youth, Hypno considered a new hobby for after the wedding. Already an avid writer, the magician could engage in the magic of the written word. That’d be nice, a marked improvement from robbing banks and beating up teenagers. Oh what a wonderful thou-

“Darby!” Knock knock knock. Fucks sake.

“Come in! Door should be unlocked.” It wasn’t. He had locked it, very much in the mood for peace and quiet. 

Hypno snapped his fingers, the lock coming undone. He was almost impressed, exactly twenty-six minutes of silence before an interruption. Still, nothing good lasts forever, and he already began to suspect something was going wrong in his absence. 

“Would you happen to know where the tent is for the venue? We’ve looked everywhere and can’t find it.” April said, walking in with Donnie following after her.

The hippo sighed, shutting his tablet off. “And you already asked Warren?”

“Yep! He told us anything larger than him was with you. He was also wrestling with a call over catering so we left him alone,” Donnie replied, checking out the dressing room his ‘uncle’ had holed up in.

“Lovely. Just lovely.” Darby pulled himself out of his seat. “Well, follow me. Sure we’ll find it sooner than later.” 

The three made their way out, ascending to the third floor and into a large storage room painted wall to wall in bright red paint with white trim. Boxes of wedding-centric items filled the room’s center. Hypno shuffled his way over to the center of the pile, digging through a few boxes before walking away with his prize. 

“Here we are!” The hippo dragged the folded tent over to his companions. 

“Alright, either of you have a license to pitch this?” It was a joke, yet: 

“Oh, I do!” A framed photograph showcasing the achievement was pulled from Donnie’s battleshell, the turtle eager to show it off.

Hypno would never be over the fact that Dee kept things in there, wondering just how much storage it had. 

“Where did that come from, if you don’t mind me asking? I know it’s the shell, but where in the shell?”

Donatello placed the picture to the side, ready to re-present it after. “The hammerspace! Which, now that you mention it, is odd. There’s only supposed to be hammers in there.” 

The turtle got to rooting around in his shell, trying to see if anything else were out of order.

“Oh. Why do you have so many hammers?” Hypno knew he’d get an ‘interesting’ answer, yet asked all the same.

“Vengeance.” The turtle’s one-word response hung in the air. Between the grin on Dee’s face and the goggles over his eyes, one could mistake him for the villain in the room. 

“Okay then. That just brings up the question of how.” Darby regretted each word as they left his mouth.

“‘Oh Donnie, how do you have so many hammers?’ Keep asking questions like that, and you’ll find yourself at the bottom of a lake.” Completely horrified silence.

April nudged Dee with her elbow. “Got too into it, sorry.” 

“Lovely… Here you go.” Darby passed the tent to April. 

“Y’know, we were having a similar conversation earlier and I must ask, has he actually killed someone? Because I am becoming less and less convinced that he was joking,” The hippo said to April as Donnie walked ahead of them back down the stairs.

“Oh, Dee? Don’t worry about him, I’ve known him since he was seven.” She waved the question off with a flourish of her hand. 

“Okay, and?”

“The guy had it coming.” 

“Wonderful.” Is what Darby said on the outside. On the inside it was more so:

They said, "All teenagers scare the livin' shit out of me"

They could care less as long as someone'll bleed

So darken your clothes, or strike a violent pose

Maybe they'll leave you alone, but not me

Back outside against his better judgment and need for rest, Hypno watched as the two teens ran off to put the tent together, unfolding the zinc-white monstrosity. Each interlocking mechanism clicked into place as their protection from predicted rain took its spot in blocking out the sky. 

—

“So, you’re also gonna be at the wedding?” Dee asked, mallet in hand to pound rope spikes in place.

“Yeah, of course.” April flashed her invite, deep streaks of yellow among the pastels. 

“Lemme guess, you were worried the only people you’d know are the grooms?” She handed the purple turtle another spike.

“I wasn’t worried. Just wondering if I had to keep my small talk protocol updated.” Donnie folded his arms and scoffed. “But in all seriousness, I am looking forward to seeing you there. Bringing Cassandra?”

“Well, yeah. Would’ve asked for a plus two if Sunita wasn’t out of town. Cass tried to ask for a plus one to her plus one so she could bring Casey. Warren and Darby both said no, so we’ve decided to call it a date.” She smiled as she shrugged, the thought of a third date with the force of destruction known as Cassandra Jones making her heart flutter. 

“I take it things are getting serious between you two,” Dee commented, flipping his goggles down before welding a spike to the ground. Hypno was absolutely not seeing the insurance payment back. 

“Not as serious as whatever’s happening between Leo and that rabbit guy,” April replied.

“What?” Donnie shut his welding torch off, flipping his goggles back up. 

“Never mind! Uh, look over there!” April panicked, realizing that Leo had only told her, and chucked a rock across the venue to distract Donnie.

“April, do you take me for a fool?” He asked, brows furled.

O’Neil began to open her mouth to speak.

“Actually, don’t answer that.” The purple turtle sighed. “For posterity’s sake, I will look. But do not take this to mean that this is over!”

Dee turned to find Hypno waving him down, calling to him. “Oh, you weren’t kidding. Wow, wonder what that’s about.”

—

Earlier, as they tied sandbags to the spindly metal legs of the tent, Darby checked his phone for the first time since Donatello put it into ‘do not disturb’ mode. 

Seventy-eight missed texts, one hundred and twenty-four missed calls. All from the same six or seven people to cancel or complain, except the last two messages received via text. 

Hey Hypno, heading over the bridge now. I’ve got the paintings!

The message was followed by a second one which read:

I’ll see ya in fifteen minutes!

Both texts were sent with a dumptruck of emojis, and were from twelve minutes prior. They were from Mikey, of course. 

How nice, Mikey’ll be over here soon. Wait, Mikey will be here soon! Darby felt the emotional whiplash of each thought hitting him in sequence, panic settling in. 

“Hey, Donnie! Care to come over for a bit?” The hippo flagged the turtle down, trying not to show off how frantic he felt inside. 

“Uh, sure.” Dee waved April goodbye, walking up to Hypno, rather confused. 

“You did an excellent job today. So good, in fact, that you can go home right now!” Darby began to shoo Dee toward the exit furthest from the entrance. 

“Wait, I left all my DJ equipment in the other room.” Donathan turned to look back, catching the attention of April who shot him a quizzical glance. 

“No worries, I’ll be sure to take great care of it until tomorrow. Or if you’d like, come back in about three hours to collect it. For now, enjoy some time off!” He practically shoved Donnie out the door, snapping the lock shut.

Like clockwork, Mikey walked through the entrance to the courtyard. Or at least, the person could be assumed to be Mikey. His usual orange kneepads were visible, but the rest of him was hidden behind massive paintings. The canvases were wrapped well, brown paper keeping out any hint of moisture and light, also working well to not spoil the surprise of certain pieces. The only thing not working seemed to be the orange turtle’s legs as he shuffled through the grass and gravel that covered the floor of the venue, limping over to a table and setting down paintings taller than him. 

Angelo leaned against a wall for a few moments, gaining his bearings, under the tent. Had it not been pitched, the orange turtle would’ve had a clear view of his puzzled older sibling flying away via hover drone. 

“Hey, Hypno,” he managed to get out, still out of breath from his journey. The box turtle had ran there.

Couldn’t take the turtle tank unless he wanted to be incredibly obvious, nor could he take one of the bikes since Donnie would notice. Raph and Leo had already began to question him at home, asking him just where he thought he was going with seven canvases strapped to his body, with low visibility in all respects of the word. Instead of answering them, Mikey ran up the rungs and out of the sewer, like a roman warrior charging into battle, the paintings acting as his shields. 

“Hello, Michael! Are you alright?” Darby walked over with a glass of water, stunned at the display of well, either strength or stupidity, he wasn’t quite sure.

“Yeah, just a sec. I’m realizing now that I should’ve taken the train.” Mikey graciously accepted the water before throwing it back in one gulp. 

“So you…?”

“Walked here. Pretty sure the ‘cardboard monster of fifth avenue’ is what the folks that kept snapping my pic without asking were calling me. If my hands were free, well, that’d be another case for Dr. Delicate Touch.” There was murder in his eyes, a burning fury only New Yorkers knew. 

“Ah, rough go of things, I see.” Hypno was sympathetic in his approach, knowing the annoyance of a ‘no flash photography’ sign being ignored. And even without a sign, taking anyone’s photo without permission is simply rude. 

The hippo began to move the heavy paintings over to one of the buildings, signaling April over to help. Mikey had perked up by then, his legs no longer cracking with each step. The three dragged the pieces to an area labeled ‘set up items final - special’. Each was labeled appropriately and leaned against the wall. 

All was well until Hypno had a thought come to mind. “Wait, how did you text me?” 

Angelo grabbed his phone and opened his messages, pulling up the keyboard before clicking on a little microphone icon. “Text to speech. Donnie helped enable it for me so I just have to say which app I wanna use and go from there.” 

Mikey smiled and scrolled through his pages of apps. “Dee’s helped me upgrade a lot of things. I’ve got a VPN, upgrades to every app without having to pay for it, and a tracking app so I don’t get lost…”

The orange turtle’s smile fell and was replaced by terror. “Gotta go!”

“Where are you going?” Darby watched on as Mikey made a break for it, at a loss for words.

“Where god can’t find me!” Angelo turned a corner, booking it out of the venue, as far as humanly (turtle-ly?) possible. 

—

“What the hell was that?” Warren said, making his way to a speechless Hypno. The worm had watched the turtle make like an egg and scramble, but was too far to get any context.

“He just ran, love. Was talking about his phone, mentioned a tracking app, and went pale.” The magician recalled, still dizzy from the speed of things. 

“He’s gonna find out that everyone knows y’all tomorrow. Not sure why everyone’s keeping secrets,” said April, hauling frames for the paintings over. She knew this was going to be a shitshow but could only watch.

“Darby doesn’t want to blow anyone’s cover. He’s been outed before and knows how important some secrets are, but it’s not like they’re all secretly gay. Maybe-, no. I was about to say Leo but if that kid’s in the closet, it is transparent.” Stone shrugged before crawling up onto his lover’s shoulder. 

“What’s so bad that they need to hide knowing you two? I doubt it’s just the whole friend/uncle thing.” April crossed her arms and tried not to laugh at the worm’s comment.

“Don’t tell them that I told you this, but it’s complicated. Donnie needs an outlet for his interests that aren’t tech, he’s told me that much. That he feels comfortable with me and doesn’t want that peace disturbed by a misunderstanding from his family. I am his parental validation when Splinter cannot supply it. I am attention he doesn’t need to compete for. He puts more trust in me than he is willing to admit. 

As for Mikey, he’s worried that his family will be upset that he befriended not one but two villains. We often spend time creating things, be it art or food. Been connecting back to my roots more as a result, breaking out the old cookbooks and whatnot. He’s been an excellent creation buddy, and has gotten lost in our kitchen at least twice. I think this is stress relief for him, an environment to fully express himself. 

Then there’s Leonardo. He’s a great kid, don’t get me wrong, it’s just that he can’t truly better himself. Warren and I taught him how to flirt so he wouldn’t embarrass himself in front of that rabbit lad, and I’ve begun teaching him basic magic, but if he isn’t immediately good at something he tries to quit. We’re keeping him to the magic thing, as his dates with Yuichi have proven successful. But he refuses to introduce his boyfriend to his family, scared they’ll judge or ridicule him. He feels inadequate, despite saving the world. It’s difficult not to worry about his mental state at times.” 

“Oh, that’s, wow. Sounds like y’all know each other super well, like frightening amounts of detail,” O’Neil commented, a tad shocked by the info dump. 

“Eh, there’s what they tell me, what I intuit, and what I can read,” Darby said, surprising himself with how much he managed to keep in order about his nephews. 

“Like body language?”

“No, I meant that literally. Turns out I didn’t just get real magic powers with the mutation. No, no, the monkey’s paw curled one finger and gave me mind reading I have no control over. It activates and shuts off randomly. Utterly awful.” Hypno’s eye twitched. 

“Yikes, man. Wait, so even knowing all of that, and how they feel about the others finding out, you still decided to invite all of them to your wedding? Where’s the logic?” April questioned, fully aware that her date was likely to go up in flames tomorrow. 

Hypno began to fiddle with his shirt sleeves, eyes to the ground. He knew it was wrong but did it anyway. “I just-”

Warren cut him off. “We wanted to have our cake and eat it too. Couldn’t pick or play favorites since we couldn’t choose. Pretty sure they all suspect something’s up at this point, Leo told me as much a few days ago. It’ll be fine, and even if it isn’t, at least we’ll have some semblance of family there.” 

“Oh.” April soon remembered what Stone had told her a few months ago, that his family assumed he was dead. That Hypno had no contact with his family since he left Tairāwhiti . Oh boy.

“Look, I get it, but you still need to tell them. Preferably before tomorrow! It’s gonna hurt, but not as much as it will when they bump into each other at the wedding and feel betrayed. Alright?” 

“Yeah, you’re right. In fact,” Darby pulled his phone out, “I’ll tell them right now!”

—

Okay, should’ve left my phone at home. Definitely doing that tomorrow. Now, where can I go that’ll make Donnie go ‘yeah, that makes sense’? The orange turtle thought to himself, sprinting up two blocks before arriving at a train station. 

He descended the stairs, taking care not to touch the filthy handrail or the walls. The subway always smelled distinctly of rats and urine, scents no one in their right mind would be fond of. Well, perhaps the rats, but definitely not the piss. So Angelo held his breath for as long as he could, jumping onto the R train as soon as it arrived. 

Not a soul batted an eye as he boarded the train, one of the many perks of living in NYC. Weird shit could happen, and no one would care unless it was a bomb threat, and even then no one would move any faster to escape it. 

Just gonna take the R to Court St, stop at the cat cafe, and take tons of photos so Dee gets distracted by adorableness! It’s almost like I was never in Sunset Park at all!

Ring! Ring!

Darby’s caller ID flashed across the screen. Uh oh.

“Hey man, how’s it going? If this is about earlier, sorry about that.” Angelo moved to a corner, far from the prying eyes and ears of anyone that might be listening.

“No need to apologize, I understand. Mikey, I have to confess, and this may be difficult to hear-” The train began to move, the shuffle of feet and shutting of train car doors muffling the call.

“Yeah?”

“It’s about tomorrow, I invited yo-” The screech and grind of subway rails drowned out whatever Hypno had to say, along with the service being spotty at best down there. “And that’s why. I’m sorry for keeping this fr–...” Screech “....ell the others, okay?”

Mikey winced at the noise, unable to understand what had been said. “Uh huh, alright man. See ya tomorrow!”

He ended the call with a click contemplating whether or not to call Darby back once he got outside. 

It’s probably fineeeee- eh, doubt it. He said to ‘tell the others’. What others? I don’t know anyone at the wedding except him, Warren, April, and Cass. Maybe I misheard him? I should probably call again and ask… 

The turtle was pulled out of his thoughts by the gravelly voice of the conductor announcing his stop, springing out of the train and up to the world above. 

Cat cafe here I come! I’ll call Darby later.

—

“So, what did he say?” April inquired, waiting as Hypno finished up the call.

“He seemed unbothered by the news. But I also heard the hallmarks of the metro, so I doubt he heard me. I’ll try Donnie next.” 

—

Donatello was still hovering toward home, high above the Hudson River, when his phone buzzed. “Donnie speaking. Oh, hey Hypno! Can I get my stuff now?”

“Um, of course. But right now I have an important confession to make.”

“Is this about the glitter bomb we sent the mayor?” Dee began to turn around in the air, heading back to the venue. The blades keeping him afloat began to jam.

“Heheh, no. It’s about the wedding, namely the guest list.”

“I’m listening.” Donatello barely noticed that he was slowly losing altitude. 

“This is going to be painful, and I understand if you no longer wish to speak to me after this-”

“Altitude dropping. ‘Falling Out of The Fucking Sky’ Protocol activated.” A booming voice made itself known as Donnie entered freefall, the mechanism that once kept him afloat failing entirely.

“What? What is it?” The purple turtle was at the mercy of gravity for three exceptionally long seconds. 

“Wait, are you alright? Are you falling?!” Darby dug his fingernails into his skin. It was as if the universe itself wanted this to remain a secret too. 

“ I’m fine! Whatever it is can’t be too bad. Ignore the beeping.” His lifejacket and emergency boat inflated, landing below him with a crash. “And that. Just tell me.”

“Not until I know you’re okay.” Hypno felt Warren smack his hand, the magician releasing his nails from his skin. 

The turtle came crashing down onto the safety equipment below him. His stomach hit the soft plastic with a thud, water splashing up the side of his pathetic vessel. He felt sick. 

“I’m, ugh, alright. Now tell me.”

“It's- I couldn’t get you the uranium you wanted for the holidays! I’m sorry, I knew you were looking forward to that.”

“Oh, bummer. Now, what does that have to do with the guest list?”

*click* 

“Hypno?” 

The line had gone dead, the hippo hanging up on the turtle, leaving Donnie confused and alone. 

Guess I’ll head home, can’t carry anything back like this. The stress is getting to him, it’s obvious. Maybe tomorrow’ll be better? We’ll see.

With that thought, Donatello began to paddle toward home. He was soon picked up by a Circle Line boat heading toward the city, grateful to be out of the water. 

—

“What was that?!” April was now joined by Warren in the arm-crossing department, shooting the magician disapproving looks.

“I panicked! It was either that or telling him I love him like the son I never had.” Darby threw his hands in the air, exasperated. 

“Are you always this intense?”

“Have you met me?” The question was rhetorical, of course. 

“Fair point. Counterpoint, you’re gonna call him back and tell him.” O’Neil tapped her foot against the ground, impatient. This was dragging on far too long.

“He just landed in the river, I’m not going to make his day any worse.” The hippo pulled at the buttons on his jacket. 

“Fine.” I can ask Dee if he’s okay later.

She snatched the phone from Darby’s hands. “I’ll tell him.”

“Wait, no!” A blast of hypnotic energy came bursting from Hypno’s mouth involuntarily. April dodged it and glared at him. 

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean that! Just, leave him be. Call Leo instead.” 

To say this day was becoming a disastrous unraveling was an understatement. It was meant to be a simple set-up and finalization. It should’ve been easy. Darby didn’t need the additional stress, an hour away from a final fitting on his suit for the big day. He could’ve been happier had he not chosen to lie by omission. It’d be over in a moment, however.

April scrolled through the contacts list on Hypno’s phone, stopping at the one labeled ‘NeonLeon’. 

“So he told you about his failed skating career?” She cracked a smile.

“Somewhat. Had to ask a few times to see some clips before he admitted to deleting all of them.” Hypno chuckled slightly, pulled out of his stressful thoughts for a moment.

“Yeah, he’s something else, ain’t he? Knowing him, he’s probably in the middle of doing something he’s not supposed to right now.” With that, she hit the ‘call’ button and waited.

—

Ring ring!

Leonardo’s phone seemed to go off at the worst possible time. 

The blue turtle was in his room, stuck in the middle of a magic trick, one taught to him by Hypno. It was a trick with the express instructions to not be attempted without supervision. The chances of him pulling off such a trick on his own without harming himself or anyone else were slim. 

But if I can do this without his help, oh he’ll be so proud of me! I’ll look cool, Yuichi’ll have an amazing entrance to the wedding, and I’ll finally be good at magic! Was the turtle’s thought process.

Leo was trying to pull a rabbit out of a hat. It was a trick that combined portals with mystic energy, essentially enchanting the hat in this case to become a pocket dimension for items or people to be pulled from. Without Darby’s help, the spell could go wild and explode. Leon lacked the focus necessary to pull it off, unable to pop an Adderall for his undiagnosed ADHD. But he didn’t let that stop him.

Just gonna leave that alone for a second and pick up the phone. It should be fine-

“Heyo, Leo speaking-” * Boom * The test hat exploded in a loop, warping into itself at high speed until fizzling out into non-existence. 

“Leo? Are you okay?!” April’s voice was heard on the other end despite the caller ID stating it was ‘Magic Man - Uncle Tres’. 

“So if I told you I did something stupid, would you beli-”

“Yes.” Not even a second of hesitation.

“Yeah, so I just blew up a top hat. Please don’t tell Donnie, it was one of his.” Leonardo said, forgetting the ringing in his ears.

“I won’t tell. But I have something to tell you.” 

Leo felt his stomach shift at the serious tone his sister held. “What happened?”

“I-,” She couldn’t do it, a gut instinct that went against logic. “I told Donnie about you and Yuichi. It was an offhand comment. I forgot you hadn’t told anyone else.”

“Oh.” The blue turtle’s heart sank. “Did he say anything?”

“Not really. Managed to distract him before he could ask questions.” 

“I guess I should let them know. Can only hide it all for so long. Yuichi, hanging out with Darby and Warren, learning magic. I’ll let them know after the wedding.”

“If you need me there when you tell them, just let me know. You don’t have to do it alone.” She knew it’d all happen before the wedding ended, that she’d be there no matter what. But in that moment Leo didn’t and reassuring him was all that mattered.

“Thank you, April. I really appreciate it. See ya tomorrow?”

“Yeah, dude. See ya tomorrow.”

—

“Even you couldn’t bring yourself to tell him,” Warren said, pointing accusatorily from his vantage point. 

“He told me he wants to come clean, that he’ll do it after the wedding. It’s not gonna be after, but at least he won’t be too upset. This whole thing is a mess.” April gave Hypno his phone back. 

“So what do you posit we do?” Darby asked, sitting down now. His tailor had sent a message saying she’d be there in forty minutes.

“We finish what we set out to do, go home, and rest up for the big day. No matter what, tomorrow is y’alls day you’ve been dreaming of since forever. It’s gonna go as smooth as possible, you’ve got the April O’Neil guarantee.” She stood defiantly, as if to challenge the gods themselves. 

“And when they run into each other at the wedding, I will handle it.” April wasn’t being paid $350 dollars per hour to have things go wrong. Was the money stolen? Yes. Did it matter? No, especially not with how much a semester at her college cost. 

Hypno and Warren contemplated things for a while before settling on, “we trust you. Thank you for all of your hard work.”

“Anytime. Now it’s time to get a move on. Those paintings aren’t going to cover the holes in the walls by themselves.”

***

When Donnie and Mikey had gone out earlier, Raph had already put two and two together about their whereabouts. Or at least made the assumption based on his mysterious invitation. He felt helpless, watching from afar with the thought that the ones he loved were working with a villain against their will, hypnotized to keep it all a secret. 

I’ll save you, I promise. It was the thought keeping him going.

Despite the fact that they weren’t hurt, weren’t out of character in ninety-nine percent of their interactions. It was almost as if he needed this to be a problem he could punch, a physical assertion that he was still their protector. No one had taken the spot, but after their encounter with the Krang, he had only been more on edge. They couldn’t be keeping secrets for normal reasons, no. It had to be another world-ender. 

What was another hole in his shell, another eye blind when his brothers needed him? If they needed him. Did they even still need him? Had they outgrown their older brother? Would he be doomed to be alone? 

The red turtle felt his breath hitch in his throat. He couldn’t handle it, couldn’t be wrong in this instance. He didn’t want to be alone.

Raphael wiped his eyes as he heard the hatch to the sewer open, familiar footsteps sounding down each rung. Donnie was home.

“Where were you?” They were the first words out of the snapper’s mouth, well-intentioned yet poorly delivered.

“Spin class in Jersey, you know, the one right next to the fish and ladder factory,” Dee said sarcastically, pulling his towel closer to him. He smelled like the beach and felt like shit.

“Donnie, c’mon. Please be honest with me.” The red turtle sounded far more desperate than he wanted to let out. 

“I fell in the river,” Donatello whispered, wishing he were in the shower.

“What?”

“I fell in the river. My hover-pack failed. I don’t want to talk about it.” The soft-shell turtle shifted where he stood, the feeling of trapped sand and water stuck in his battleshell making his skin itch. 

“Oh. I’ll let you go. Sorry for holding you up, Dee.” Raph held out a hand to comfort his brother but rescinded it just as quickly. Donnie didn’t need any additional touch. 

“Thanks. Also, don’t think I didn’t notice your sad face. We’re talking later.” Donathan held a finger up in the air, waving it around as if to cement his point, before walking off to the bathroom. 

Can always count on Donnie to make sure I’m okay. Raph managed to smile slightly, feeling assured. Perhaps things weren’t as bad as he thought. Maybe there was hope. 

The hatch to the sewer opened yet again. The footfalls belonged to Mikey.

“Hey, Raph!” The orange turtle tried wiping cat fur off his legs with each step.

“Sup, Angelo. Saw you run out earlier. Still don’t know how you saw anything over all those paintings,” Raphael mused aloud, watching a ball of cat hair fly away from his brother. 

“I didn’t!” Michael’s response was cheerful despite the misery he faced.

“Eesh, hope it was worth it. Moving ‘em an’ all. Like, where’d ya bring them?” 

“I sold them to someone. Made my first real sale!” Yeah, that was technically the truth. 

“Hell yeah, buddy!” Raph high-fived his brother, the sound reverberating off the walls. 

“Now, why all the cat hair? Are the strays back in the alley? Can I see them?” The red turtle asked each question rapid fire-style, very excited at the prospect of seeing a cat.

“I had to go to Brooklyn so I stopped at the cat cafe. Look!” Mikey pulled out his phone, scrolling through the wall of photos. Each individual cat was documented at least fifty times, all in various states of play and relaxation. 

“Aww! They’re so cute!” Raphael held the phone close as he scrolled, looking on with delight until stopping at one that caught his eye. 

“Princess Dumptruck!?” The cat in question was a black and orange Persian, a wicked overbite making one fang stick out of her mouth at all times. In other words, she was perfect.

“I knew you’d like her so I took as many pics as possible.” Mikey smiled as his brother zoomed in on each picture, awe filling his eyes. 

“Can we go there together? Soon?” Raph near begrudgingly handed Angelo his phone back.

“Of course. I’m free on Sunday if you wanna go then. And don’t worry, I’m sending you every photo.” 

“Looking forward to it. Love you, bro.”

“Love you too.”

With that, Mikey left with a smile and a wave, turning down the hall on a quest to find Donnie. 

What if everything’s fine? They seem happy. Well, at least Mikey today. What if they’re just living their lives? If the wedding’s real? It’s not that they don’t need Raph anymore, they just grew up. Made new friends. Angelo’s befriended villains before, see dad two for details. What if that’s it? What if I’m an idiot?

The thoughts circled ‘round Raphael’s head like a halo, a new spiral to lose himself in. Stuck between extremes and rationality. What would win?

He took a deep calming breath to center himself, breaking free from freefall. He’d make it out of this, wouldn’t get stuck dwelling. A new and final thought came to mind. 

If I’m going there tomorrow, to get to the bottom of everything real or fake, I’ll need to look good. 

The snapping turtle walked to the garage and started up a cycle from the Turtle Tank, the noise eliminated by Donnie’s thorough soundproofing. Boarding the vehicle, he sent out a text and waited.

“So we’re really doing this?” Jones appeared moments later, yawning. It was getting late, and he had begun to enjoy not being on high alert at all times.

“Yep! Get on Casey, we’re going shopping!”

—

As they made their way out of the garage, they didn’t even notice the clack of spider legs against the ground, a giggle accompanying the sound. 

“Oh, this shall be interesting - I guarantee it.” 

With that, Raphael’s invitation fluttered to the ground, no longer balled up. Webbing came off the frayed corners, the hallmarks of Big Mama’s handiwork on full display.

—

Stars twinkled in the dark sky, wind rushing past as they sped through the night. The two would be back soon enough. They were headed to the abandoned shopping mall in mid-town, everything at the low low price of free ninety-nine. 

Lights low, a silence so deafening that any disturbance would be noticed immediately, Raph and Casey Jr crept into the mall. A button activated the escalators, leading them up to the shops above. 

The glass was still smashed in from their run-in with the Foot Clan, a memory in hindsight that sent shivers up the turtle’s spine. How was he supposed to know they were after the Dark Armor? He was just a kid, a kid too hyped up for a skating match to realize what was happening. It’s easy to regret the past, thinking of all of what could be done and knowing he did nothing.

But it wasn’t the time for that. No, he was here for the suits and dress pants. The badass eyepatch in the display window that called to him. And yes, even the teddy bear onesie. Not for the wedding, simply for the Raph. 

“Is this good? I’ve never worn a suit before.” Casey popped out of the dressing room, the curtain flowing out dramatically for his big reveal. 

Jones came out wearing a flower-patterned suit jacket done in lilac purple and cadmium orange tones, a royal red dress shirt underneath, with navy blue dress pants. Black loafers tied it all together. He even tied his hair back in a bun.

“Woah! You look great!” Raph clapped for his friend as Jones did a turnaround. “Did you mean to pick out an outfit with everyone’s colors?” 

The time traveler gave himself a once-over, blushing. “Whoops, that was unintentional. But you think I look good?” 

“Of course. I gotta take you shopping more often.” Raph got up from where he sat, grabbing his own outfit to try from the racks behind him. “Now it’s my turn.” 

Casey took Raph’s spot as the turtle disappeared into the dressing room. It was fun getting to know Raphael, grateful to finally have the chance to know him. Self-sacrifice was the red turtle’s downfall in the previous timeline, a horrific death Jones was lucky to have never seen. The stories Master Leonardo and Master Michelangelo told barely did the snapper justice, a robust and caring personality worthy of sainthood. Still, he couldn’t help but smile. Raph had already outlived his previous self by one year. 

“How’s this?” Raphael threw the curtain open with a flourish. 

Raph wore a gold-toned dress shirt under a red suit jacket in koi fish patterning. Over his blind eye was a cobalt blue eyepatch, a silver star in the center. His dress pants were solid black, paired with no shoes as none fit. Still. 

“Wow! How are you so good at this?” Casey asked, starry-eyed as the red turtle did a turnaround. 

“Getting trapped in a dress-up montage for two hours helped. Real glad we nailed it on the first try.” He paused to yawn. “We gotta head home.”

“Yeah, you’re right. You gotta tell me about that montage thing later though.” 

The two changed back into the outfits they walked in with, bagging up their new clothes before making the journey home.

***

Earlier

“Hey Donnie, how ya doing?” Mikey peeked into his brother’s room, phone in hand to show off cat cafe photos and dissuade Dee from looking any further into why he was in Brooklyn. 

“Raph told you I fell in the river, didn’t he?” The purple turtle was in the middle of cleaning out his battleshell, thankful each compartment had a watertight seal. 

“What? No. Are you okay?” 

“I’m fine now, thanks. So, what do you need?” 

“Oh, um, just wanted to show you some cat photos I took. Thought you might like them.” The orange turtle kept his voice low, understanding that Donnie was already overstimulated from his day.

Dee stopped cleaning to look, a smile slowly forming on his face. A sphinx cat called ‘Bleps’ had caught his attention, mostly hairless with curly white fur around the legs. 

“Oh, she’s perfect. We gotta go to the cat cafe again.” He looked up, eyes shining. Animals seemed to be the universal method of calming a turtle down. 

“Absolutely. I took these pictures last time I went.” Crisis averted.

“When did you have the time to go to Brooklyn? These say you took the photos today,” Donnie said, continuing to scroll up. Too up in fact, nearly getting to a pic of Mikey with Warren and Hypno. 

Abort mission! Crisis not averted! Crisis back on track! Alarm bells went off in the orange turtle’s head as he moved to pull his phone away.

“You don’t have to tell me, I already saw your tracking history. So unless you just happened to get lost in Sunset Park looking for the R train, there’s no reason for you to have been there.” Dee handed the cell phone back voluntarily, having stopped an image just before he would’ve seen the incriminating evidence.

Mikey sat on the edge of Donatello’s bed, shoulders slumped defeated. “If I tell you the real reason, you won’t be mad at me?”

“Not at all.”

“It’s- it’s a lot. I started painting for a couple a while ago, but you know that part. But what I didn’t tell you,” he said, scrolling to the next image on his phone, “is that they were Hypno and Warren Stone.”

Donnie looked over the images as Mikey showed him more. Painting with the couple, cooking with them, losing horribly at poker to them. Stressful nights of work selfies getting the abs just right on the main portrait for the worm mutant, selfies at an underground poetry slam as Hypno read out his latest work. Photos of nature hikes upstate, watching the leaves turning reds and golds as Warren was nearly carried off by a hawk. Weekends of chocolate tarts and ginger nuts, messy aprons and cheesy music. A friendship documented through the lens of a camera for four months, each one showing Mikey happier and happier. 

“Angelo, I had no idea. Well, scratch that, some of an idea, but still,” Dee said, ready to pass the phone back. 

He looked up to see his younger brother sobbing. “Mikey?”

“I was so scared! I thought y’all would hate me for this.” The box turtle tried to wipe his eyes but more tears continued to fall. He couldn’t tell if he were relieved or simply breaking from the dam’s worth of secrets spilling all at once.

“Mikey, we could never hate you.” Donathan reluctantly put an arm around his brother. “If anyone here could hate you for this, they’d have to hate me, too.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I met Hypno and Warren five months ago at a bar, we started talking…” Donnie explained how he met and befriended the two villains, what knowing the couple meant to him, and how he hid everything to have one thing for himself. 

“It wasn’t my brightest moment, but I wanted the attention. Darby thinks I’m brilliant, doesn’t roll his eyes when I start info dumping. I was afraid to ask the people closest to me to listen, so I didn’t.”

“I get that. Had a similar thing going with them. Just wanted to feel useful after everything. Hypno can’t paint, so he thought I was this amazing artist. But I’m not.” Mikey felt his brother nudge him.

“One day I will destroy your imposter syndrome by force.”

“Fine, but I’m not the best. Still, though, it was nice. Like they were family. But they didn’t make us like Barry did, so I thought the family thing might sound, y’know, weird.”

“I mean, I’ve got them saved as Cool Uncle and Worm Uncle so it’s not that weird. Related? No. But blood, or in our case ooze, doesn’t mean everything.” Dee shrugged, showing off his contacts list.

“Yeah…you know, after talking about this and hearing you admit you know them too, I feel way better.” Angelo wiped his eyes again, the tears stopping. 

“Same. Can I tell you another secret?”

“Anything.”

“I can’t believe that they knew I was queer before I did.” Donathan looked up at the ceiling, his mind replaying the memory of the worm calling him gay on repeat. 

“Donnie, have you seen yourself?” Angelo scoffed, a faint smile on his lips.

“What’s that supposed to mean? If we were talking about Leo, then I get it. But me?” The purple turtle raised an eyebrow.

“I dunno, Don,” Mikey said peeling an asexual sticker off his brother's goggles, “it’s written all over your face.”

“How did- I thought I got all of them!” Much like a dog chasing its tail, Donatello spun in circles in the search for any additional stickers he might’ve missed.

“I think that might’ve been the last one.” Angelo tried and failed to hold back his laughter. “Oh, and speaking of Leo, he’s definitely gotta know them too. I mean, with the I Love New Zealand t-shirt it’s kinda obvious.”

“Oh totally! April slipped up earlier and said he had a boyfriend, some rabbit guy. Should we tell him we know?” Donnie had stopped spinning in circles at that point, a devious look now gracing his face.

“Well, we’re pretty funny guys, Dee. Why don’t we shoot for hilarious?” The orange turtle was about to whisper a plan but opted for a mind meld instead. Gotta use the skills you have or else you’re gonna lose ‘em.

“That’s evil. I love it!” They high-fived, grinning. 

“Now, Angelo, you wouldn’t happen to have an outfit for tomorrow picked out, would you?” Donathan got up from his bed, motioning for Mikey to follow him.

“Not really. Wait, are we going to-?” Mikey began, cut off by Dee.

“My super awesome, perfectly organized, mega closet? Why yes, Michael, thanks for asking.” 

A side panel in Donnie’s room opened, leading directly into his lab. From there, he pressed a button, activated an eye scanner, and bypassed every security measure put in place to get into his fashion palace. 

“Anything you could dream of is within these walls. Suits, ties, top hats. Wait, someone touched these.” A single top hat was missing. 

The soft-shell turtle flipped his goggles down and scanned the room for mystic energy. Instantly, Leo’s energy signature appeared in the form of a portal. 

“Now I’m really gonna enjoy tomorrow.” He rubbed his hands together, scheming. 

“Leo broke in again?” Mikey seemed unfazed by this development.

“Again?!” 

“Honestly thought you would’ve noticed sooner.” The box turtle shrugged before turning his attention to the monolithic arrangement of clothing before him. “We can get back at him later, it’s dress-up time!” 

Donnie sighed as he gave up the idea of hunting Leon down. “You’re right.” 

“Shelldon, activate montage protocol!” 

“You got it, Dee.” 

A row of dressing rooms appeared from behind the clothes racks, sequined curtains shimmering proudly at their stations. Speakers turned on as a record was chosen from Donnie’s personal collection. 

“Oh, I love this song! Sing it with me, Angelo!”

“Uh, sure!” Mikey nearly dropped the jacket he was trying on, invitations to sing with Dee being exceptionally rare.

“ You're out of touch! ” The purple turtle pointed to his brother.

“ I’m out of time!” Angelo finger-gunned back.

“But I’m out of my head when you’re not around! All together now!” Donnie signaled for Shelldon to join in, too.

“ You're out of touch! I’m out of time (time)! But I’m out of my head when you’re not around!” 

“Excellent work!” Donatello pulled at the fancy shirts he had lined up for the wedding, turning his focus to picking out a winner.

Reaching out for something to hold

Looking for a love where the climate is cold

Manic moves and drowsy dreams

“Am I doing this right?” Mikey jumped out from the dressing room to do an outfit reveal, the curtain swooshing around at his feet. 

Or living in the middle between the two extremes

Smoking guns hot to the touch

Would cool down if we didn't use them so much, yeah

The purple turtle looked up to see what his younger brother put together, preemptively doubting his fashion sense. Well, that was until he actually saw him. “Holy cream cheese on a bagel, that outfit!”

We're soul alone

And soul really matters to me

Too much

A quinacridone magenta silk top was accompanied by a sunset ombre suit jacket, a decorative setting sun done up in brilliant gold adorning the back. Black leggings instead of slacks, and not a shoe in sight unless he wanted to be uncomfortable for several hours. In short, a dapper lad. 

“Thanks, Dee! Didn’t expect to nail it on the first try, but I learned from the best.” He gestured to his older brother with a grin.

You're out of touch

I'm out of time

But I'm out of my head when you're not around

“ You’re too kind, far too kind! But thank you, I know.” With one swift motion, Donnie pulled out the two shirts he narrowed his search down to. 

“From one fabric aficionado to another, which one of these fine shirts do you believe would pair well with my suit?” Hung next to him was his glitzy and shimmer-coated lilac suit from his previous montage. 

“Are you taking suggestions or have you already made up your mind and want to see if I agree with you?” Mikey crossed his arms and waited.

“The first one.”

“Maybe ditch all the glitter….? It’s not really ‘you’ y’know? The purple parts, yeah. Just not the everything else.” 

Donatello glanced at his shiny monstrosity then back to his brother then back to the glitter bomb. He sighed. 

“I hate to admit this, but you may have a point.” He turned back to the rack and grabbed something more sensible. “I’ll be right back.” 

The soft-shelled turtle made his way into the dressing room and swiftly put himself together, shoving the curtain aside for a dramatic reveal. 

Dioxazine purple suit with a canary yellow dress shirt, and silver pants. Donnie always had an affinity for planning outfits, despite not wearing clothing often. The yellow and purple contrasted nicely, like violet pansies. 

“Whoo! You look great, Dee!” Mikey and Shelldon clapped as Donnie spun for the turnaround. 

“You know it!” 

The soft-shelled turtle flaunted his fit, walking around with his brother as the two checked themselves out in the mirror, having a grand time taking pics and laughing. That was until Donnie saw the time. 

“Oh shit, I promised I’d talk with Raph earlier. He’s probably sitting there, waiting for me. Sorry to cut this short.” With a snap of his fingers, the dressing rooms and music were put away, silence settling in. 

“It’s alright. This was so much fun! We should do this more often.”

“Definitely. It’s surprisingly pleasant when it’s just us hanging out.” Donathan admired himself in the mirror before taking the outfit off to save for the next day.

“Yeah, I missed spending time with you one on one. And don’t worry, I’ll wash these and get them back to you after the wedding,” Angelo said, placing his outfit on hangers to take back with him.

“Please remember to use soap this time.” Dee grimaced at the memory of what happened last time.

“Hey, that was only one- no, two times! But yeah, I’ll make sure they’re sparkling.” 

The purple turtle smacked the secret exit button, a tunnel to the hallway opening discreetly as they walked through it. Mikey waved goodbye to Shelldon before the door to the tunnel shut entirely. 

“I’m gonna text Darby and let him know that we know about everything, okay?” Angelo asked, just about to get back into his room. 

“Sounds good to me. I think it might just put his mind at ease. Looking forward to seeing you at the wedding tomorrow.” A mechanical arm popped out of Dee’s battleshell and patted Mikey on the head. 

“Looking forward to it too, Donnie.” The box turtle smiled before walking into his room, the space far more empty than it had been a week prior, devoid of paintings. 

___

Later

Immediately upon getting back in the garage, Raph noticed his invite laying on the ground. It was the same invite he had balled up six days prior. But before he could investigate, heard the side door to the garage opening, opting to shove the now uncrumpled letter into his bag instead. 

“Hey Raph, I was looking for you. Do you feel up to talking?” Donnie stepped out, glancing around. “I see you, Casey, you don’t have to hide in the shadows.”

A sigh of relief escaped into the darkness as Jones walked forward, awkwardly waving before leaving the garage and heading to his room. 

“Oh hey, Dee! I think I’ll pass for tonight, just really tired y’know how it is. I’d totally be up for it tomorrow, though. Thank you.” 

“Of course, I’m glad to be of service. Now,” Donnie said, moving in close, “what were you two doing in here?”

C’mon Raph, it’s not that difficult to lie. “ We took a cycle out and went shopping.” Okay, maybe it is difficult!

Raphael pulled out his new teddy bear onesie, a good cover he didn’t think he’d need. 

“Oh, cool. Well, I’ll be in my room if you need me. Just let me know before you take any of my tech out, okay? That cycle needs new wheels.” Dee backed off and started to make his way back inside, satisfied with his older brother’s answer. 

“Oh, um, sure! Didn’t know about the wheel thing, thanks for telling me.” Raph followed Donnie inside, trying not to let how surprised he felt show. 

“Anytime. Night, Raph.” 

“Goodnight, Dee.” 

With that, the door to Donatello’s room shut and Raph’s door opened, the snapper throwing himself face down into his pile of stuffed animals and pillows. 

He had to rest well for the wedding, as odd as that might’ve been to think about. Raphael already had a note for his parents stating he was out, telling them not to worry, etc etc. If any crimes happened to occur the next day, well whoops, fuck New York. Maybe it shouldn’t be up to four sentient turtles to stop all of a major city’s crimes as they happened. Considering the whole ‘we saved the world’ thing, it wouldn’t be terrible if they collectively took one day off to bear witness to the marriage of two guys they used to beat up. Oh how the turns table. 

Still, as each turtle fell asleep that night, the only thought on each of their minds so happened to be: maybe it’ll all work out.

Chapter Text

A knock on his door was all Warren Stone needed to know that he was almost out of time. The wedding was set for two hours from then, the final details only falling perfectly into place with the help of April. To say he owed her big time was an understatement.

Warren had never experienced such an intense hatred of object impermanence until he had to make plans with outside sources for the wedding. All of his efforts became failures solely for the fact that no one remembered him. Calling back caterers and potential bakers was nothing short of impossible; his name, information, and likeness going up in smoke the second anyone bothered to stop looking at him. Stone began to wonder if this was in fact his mutant power, but kept it to himself, now not being the time. The worm didn’t want to bog his fiancé down with problem after problem, so he came up with the brilliant idea to outsource the job to someone who did remember him, someone who cared. 

Without O’Neil, the wedding never would’ve happened. The worm had already made plans to reconcile later for a proper attempt at friendship, having felt guilty for writing her off in favor of betrayal a few years prior. She had stuck with him even after he showed no interest in being the person she looked up to, now turning the tables by becoming his maid of honor. 

It was odd, taking one last look in the mirror before moving to open the door.

If anyone had asked him a couple years prior if he were capable of change, he’d say the only changes he could make were physical. And for the most part, that were true. But nearly dying in an apocalypse inadvertently caused by him and Hypno really put life into perspective for the worm. The only one that bothered to call him when it was all over was April. Not his family or old friends from the news station, just her. She hadn’t forgotten him, and she never would. 

The door slid open with a creeaaakk as the worm mutant struggled with the handle, wishing he were larger and stronger. 

“Hey man, heard you wanted me to help with your vows?” April walked in, helping to pull the door closed as Warren jumped back up to his seat. 

“Yes, but don’t forget subtlety! He could hear us.” Stone shushed his companion, marginally yet reasonably paranoid. 

“I doubt that, but,” she took her seat, “for your sake I’ll keep it to a whisper.” 

“Thank you.” The worm mutant unrolled his taped-together notecards, each one exceptionally blank. Empty, void of typed or written word. Oh, wait, there happened to be a smudge on the very first card from where he started writing before giving up. 

“I’ll get right to the point, I’m completely lost. Like, what if he delivers some mind-blowing speech about me and I can’t even match that? I swear, I haven’t sweat this much over lines since the intern incident of ‘08.” 

“Excuse me, the what?” 

“We do not talk about it.” Warren shook his head no as he grit his teeth, finger over his neck in a cutthroat motion. 

“But that aside, I guess I just feel intimidated? Darby’s, oh what isn’t he? Handsome, too handsome. After ditching the turban, it became even easier to see how much better his hair is than mine. Oh, can’t forget his eyes! They’re mesmerizing, can’t stop looking at ‘em. And then there’s the rest of his beautiful face, his earrings, his… everything. Most of the time I think I can’t possibly be the person he wants to spend the rest of his life with.”

“Warren…”

“It’s true! He’s perfect and I’m just some defunct anchorman. A grandiose man of magic and mystery, and beside him? A fucking worm. Still can’t believe he said yes to this. ” Stone wiped his eyes against his shirt sleeve.

“Alright, that’s enough.” The squeak of chair legs against wood flooring pulled the worm out of his pity party as April stood up. 

“Warren, he said yes because he loves you. He’s been in love with you for three years! Darby wouldn’t have gone through with this wedding, put in this much planning, let alone continue to live with you and make plans for the future with you if he didn’t feel this way.”

Stone shifted in his seat, hand rubbing up against the threads of his suit. A part of him knew the way he was thinking was illogical, that he had only slept for five hours total the previous night and was chemically imbalanced. Between the stress of the wedding, the barely resolved stress of keeping secrets, and the crushing weight of being alive, the worm was worse for wear. 

“Sounds fake, but okay.” He watched as O’Neil rolled her eyes. “But I’m glad you’re here. Needed someone to talk some sense into me. Vows were supposed to be the easy part, and yet…” 

“We’re gonna get them done. I can’t write your vows for you, but I can make sure it all sounds ‘normal’. You know what goes into these, right?”

“Nope! My mother told me she’d teach me before my wedding, but after the mutation, she turned my disappearance into drama before memorializing me in an Instagram post. She tagged the wrong station too, so not exactly invested in my existence.” Warren flashed a pained smile, memories of a life best forgotten playing behind his eyes.

“Now we don’t have time to unpack all of that. How’s ‘bout I tell you what my folks told me?” Oh boy, I can see why he prefers the turtles after everything. 

“Go for it.”

“Vows are the embodiment of what the person you’re writing them for means to you. What others in attendance wouldn’t know about them, but not to an oversharing degree, ya feel me?”

The worm nodded. “I think I get it. So, just telling the world about my Darby and what he means to me?”

“You got it. But if anything else, remember this: He loves you no matter how you express it. It’s not a competition.”

“Alright, I think I know what to write. Definitely gonna riff a bit, but I’ve got a few solid ideas.” Warren grabbed his pen, putting it back to his notecards with a start. 

“I’m looking forward to hearing them. You’re gonna do great.” April smiled before checking her phone to see how Casey Sr was doing, scrolling through recent texts. 

Normal, normal, uh oh. 

On the other side of things

In the secondary building of the venue stood Hypno, panicking quietly as he waited for the wedding to start. Oh, it had to be perfect! The outfit, the rings, the vows. The only thing somewhat under control was the whole ‘turtles finding out that they all knew him’ situation. 

At a moment such as this he’d call Warren over to help calm him down, but the worm was busy getting ready with the aid of April. The boys had each said they were on the way over, so Darby had to wait. Well, April did bring her date along. Perhaps she could help?

“Cass, are you still out there?” The magician called out, apprehensive to bother the former Foot recruit. 

Cassandra Jones kicked open Hypno’s dramatic entrance curtain that led to his dressing room, erupting forward in a burst of fabric entanglement. From there she floundered, struggling to get loose for all of two seconds, unrolling to reveal her snazzy outfit.

Black blazer over a red button-up, black straight-edged slacks, and oddly enough, sandals. They showed off her crimson nail polish rather well, however, so it didn’t quite matter that she looked like a rejected extra for a My Chemical Romance music video.

“Yes, Hypno, sir!” 

“Axe the ‘sir’ and we’ll be just dandy.” Darby forced a smile. “Can you read this over? I’ve been worried that it might be a touch too long.”

He handed the stack of paper to Cassandra, the pile a monstrous beast at thirty pages. She had a weary look in her eyes, remembering days of similar grunt work.

“I didn’t hunt down my former bosses to do more menial labor, so I’ll tell you this. Too long. Far too long! Reduce this to two pages, maximum.” She scanned the papers. “And as nicely written as this is, counting the literal thousands of ways Warren has changed your life is only gonna dull the gesture. Like running a knife through the dishwasher.” 

The magician pulled on his phlox purple blazer with a frown, snapping each button into place before taking the mind-numbingly long list of vows back. He was beginning to understand why April enjoyed Cass’s company - straight to the point without sugarcoating anything. The pair were both honest, only brutally so on occasion, and a lovely combo for kicking the asses of villains. Real stabby.

“You’re most likely right.” The hippo sighed, glancing back at his new companion only to be met with a knowing glare. “Okay, you are right. Christchurch on a bike, you’re intimidating.” 

“Thank you! When April told me she was helping ‘ex’-villains, I may have brought my best throwing daggers, but I won’t waste them on you.” Cass smiled, under the assumption that the threat she just made to Hypno’s life wouldn’t fuck him up.

Oh, I see it now. She has a confirmed kill count. Of course she does. What’s with these teenagers and murder? Why did I let April bring someone that would stab me if given the chance? I should’ve screened those invites better. The thoughts came and went from Hypno’s mind quickly, turning back to the issue at hand.

“Wonderful. I’ll cut the vows down to size. Now, how’s the outfit? I tried staying on brand, but more wedding-focused. This’ll be the furthest from traditional ceremony for plenty of reasons so color doesn’t matter, I just need a second opinion.”

Darby picked up shreds of the dramatic reveal curtain that Cass had accidentally destroyed on her way in and threw them into the air like confetti before stepping forward. 

Beyond his purple blazer, he wore a white dress shirt with black pinstripes, brown leather oxford shoes, charcoal grey slacks, white gloves, and a black necktie with tiny silver hippos printed upon it. His hair was combed back neatly, wavy black strands curling nicely into place. Gold hoop earrings were present on each ear, small rubies were inlaid on the sides. The magician had even done his make-up, perfectly winged eyeliner and well-done mascara present, a mirror having been used for application this time around. 

“Considering that you haven’t blinded me with glitter, I’d say you look great! I am sure your worm will love it.” Cassandra gave him a thumbs-up. 

“Glad we got that one sorted. Now for more pressing matters.” Hypno started, taking his seat, satisfied with his marriage attire. “Do you ever think about the course of your life and how if certain things hadn’t happened, you’d be a far different person than the one you are today? In other words, any feelings about fate?”

Casey Jones The First was taken aback by the sudden philosophical shift, under the impression that her work was already done. And with such a loaded question on the table, it had to be handled delicately to avoid an explosion. 

“I mean, I’ve certainly thought about it. Maybe I wouldn’t have wasted nine years of my life as a Foot recruit, or found a better outlet for my anger issues. Could’ve been happier, could’ve met the right people sooner. But when you spend your time getting caught up in what could’ve been, you lose sight of what you have. April taught me that.” 

“Oh, that’s quite the nuanced take that I wasn’t expecting.” Darby almost ran a hand through his hair before remembering how long it took to style it. “I suppose I’ve been feeling inadequate. As if I’m undeserving of Warren, y’know?”

“What would make you think that?” In Cass’s eyes, the worm was annoying and less than thrilling to associate with. Sure, he was mellowing out in a resigned way, but still. She honestly couldn’t believe that he managed to bag Hypno of all people.

“Well for starters, if it weren’t for an ethically-compromised science experiment, we never would’ve met. He’d still be the famous news anchor, the ‘hunk’ of Channel Five. And I’d still be some low-level magician holding shows to an audience of one hundred people, maximum. I vastly prefer the person I am now, but I know he never would’ve picked me as I was.” The hippo buried his face in his hands, the thought that he was beneath his partner running through his mind at increased speed ever since the proposal. 

“Uh huh, look,” Cassandra pulled up photos that April had sent her from her time visiting the Channel Five station when she was younger, “your worm was a twink at best.”

Darby glanced up, watching as Cass scrolled through each pic, trying not to laugh when he realized she wasn’t kidding. “Alright, you’ve got me there.”

“Good! Now listen to me. Stop thinking about the past! You picked each other, not because of who you were before, but for who you are now. If anything, he’s lucky to be with you. ” She jabbed a finger into the magician’s chest before stepping back. 

“When April picked me she wasn’t thinking about my ties to the Foot Clan, didn’t care about how I used to be some angry kid beating the shit out of other kids. Sure, I almost brought about the end of the world, but who hasn’t?”

Hypno nodded knowingly, thinking back on his inadvertent bringing of the apocalypse the previous year. 

“You deserve good things, good people. It takes a long time to let the people who are good to you in, but once you have them, keep them! He loves you, you love him, and that’s the end of that. And now you are going to finish getting ready, stop filling your head with lies, and have an amazing wedding! Do I make myself clear?!” Cass barked, the last suggestions being orders.

“Yes, ma’am!” Hypno stood to attention, rattled. 

“Perfect! See ya later!” Casey Sr waved goodbye as she exited through the door hole, the curtain once acting as a door no longer on this plane of existence. 

What the hell just happened? I mean I appreciate her advice, but damn. Darby thought to himself, shaking off all the yelling before grabbing at his stack of vows. 

Might as well get to work reducing this to two pages. Should probably text the turtles while I’m at it. 

Hypno sat at his make-up table, pen and paper pushed aside momentarily as he fished his phone from his jacket pocket. 

About an hour and a half til showtime, they should be here with time to spare. The hippo sent out a text to Donnie and Mikey, as well as one to Leo, before setting the device aside and moving on to his vows. 

—

Meanwhile

“Mikey?” Donnie knocked on his brother’s door, keeping his voice low. “Mikey, hurry up. We need to be there early.”

“I’m trying. Not sure if we get dressed now or later.” Angelo called back, stuck halfway between putting his suit on and taking it off again.

“When we get there. I thought I told you that yesterday.” Donathan pinched at the bridge of his nose (?), irritation starting to claw at him. 

He had promised to be there early and ensure the music would play properly during the reception, as well as warm up to sing for the dances, oh and can’t forget the best man speech that he had spent hours on. Walking Darby down the aisle, the prank planned against Leo, making sure Raph didn’t know what was happening. It was dizzying. The turtle wouldn’t admit that he took too much on, wearing the stress as a point of pride instead. He was helping, wasn’t he? 

“Sorry, I’ll be out in a sec. Hypno picked me to be his flower-thrower person!” Mikey stuffed his outfit in a bag and slung it over his shoulder while Donnie shushed him on the other side of the door.

“Not so loud, dude. And isn’t the petal procurer usually a child?”

“I’ll take what I can get,” Angelo said with a shrug, popping the door open, the two quickly making their way down the hall. 

“Understandable. Now follow my lead.” The purple turtle held a finger to his lips as he guided his younger sibling around the kitchen, blending into the shadows near the entryway to avoid their older brother. 

It was surprisingly easy to get around Raph, the red turtle distracted by a conversation with Casey Jr. Without a word between them, Mikey and Donnie escaped to the world above, flying via an improved hover drone to the venue.

—

Hitting the ground running, Angelo scooted to a halt next to his brother as the two landed on the fake grass and gravel, admiring the handcrafted beauty of the exterior. It was a vindicating experience to see his work adorning the walls, shining with pearlescent brilliance among the fairy lights hung high above them. 

“Woah!” The orange turtle jumped up excitedly, stars in his bright eyes. He turned to Donnie, grinning.

“Never thought I’d see them outside of your room. Proud of you, Mikey.” Donathan gave his younger brother a thumbs up, glancing at the art with a smile until a piece of his own caught his attention. “So when we were painting together, you just needed me to help you finish your commissions?”

“What?” Mikey ran over to see what Dee was staring at, face scrunching up upset once he saw the error. “Oh no! I didn’t mean to bring that! I’m so sorry, Dee. I’ll take it down, or wire you four thousand dollars, either way, this never should’ve happened.” 

“I get it, I get it. Don’t worry- wait, four thousand dollars?”

Michelangelo nodded. “Darby believes that all artists deserve to be paid fair wages.”

“Well, I’ll be damned.” The purple turtle let out a low whistle, somewhat astonished. “So $4k when we get home?”

“Yep. So, what now?”

“We need to drop our gifts off at the present table, get dressed, and be seated fifteen minutes before the ceremony. If you see Leo, text me. I’ll put our plan in motion.” Donnie rubbed his hands together mischievously as they walked toward the far end of the venue.

Approaching the table, each turtle laid their gifts upon the barren surface.

Mikey had gifted the couple plenty of items, each in various boxes and bags with copious amounts of wrapping paper. His gifts to them included: pottery lessons in Brooklyn, three sessions of a couple’s cooking class, a year-round pass to the MoMA so long as they promised not to steal anything, one massive woolen blanket for their couch, a present specifically to Hypno in the form of a booking at a local theater for him to perform for an audience of two thousand, and a gift specifically for Warren in the form of a ticket to Dollywood. 

Donatello left presents of a much different calibur. Namely in the form of the following: tickets to any Broadway they could ever want to see, two cloaking brooches if they ever felt like going out without being stared at, an invitation to Warren to broadcast himself to Channel Five whenever he wished and reclaim his place as a news anchor (no repercussions as no one remembered him anyway), a gift to Darby in the form of noise-canceling headphones as the hippo had expressed auditory sensory issues in past meetings, and lastly a secret gift to be revealed soon for the worm. 

“Do you think we overdid it? Like, how’d you even afford most of what you got them?” The orange turtle thought aloud, counting the number of gifts given on his fingers, quickly running out of digits.

“Oh, that’s easy. Fraud.” Donnie shrugged, not a care in the world.

“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that.” Mikey grabbed at his bag, clothes peeking out of the top. “Do you know where the dressing room is? Or like, the bathroom at the least. Ran away before I could find out yesterday.”

“Yeah, just follow me. Should be up these stairs.” 

The two wandered up the steps of the second building that made up the venue, making their way around the second floor until coming to a metal door with a hooked handle labeled ‘restroom’. Inside were multiple stalls, completely unoccupied.

In a few minutes, the pair were up in their dapper outfits from the previous night, making any last-minute adjustments in the full-length mirror adorning the wall by the sinks. It felt nice, a fun family bonding experience, and their first wedding! To be fair, they did have to google wedding traditions for weeks to make sure they wouldn’t fuck anything up, only to be told it wouldn’t be traditional in the slightest and not to worry. Still, it was the thought that counted.

Footsteps pounded down the hallway as they exited the bathroom, the sound coming from the one and only Cassandra Jones. She looked nothing short of excited yet furious, a fire burning in her eyes. 

“Donatello! Michelangelo! Should I tell Hypno you’re here?” Cass nearly vibrated with explosive energy, a readiness to her every action.

“One sec,” the purple turtle pulled his phone out and sent the hippo a text, “don’t worry, he knows.”

“Perfect! Now, are either of you available to engage in snack table setup? I have been assigned to security detail by Darby, and that takes priority. Anyone not on the list gets booted.” Casey Sr cracked her knuckles.

“Sick, well I have to make sure the DJ A.I. is working before the ceremony starts so-” Donnie tiptoed around his sister’s girlfriend before sprinting to the room that held his music equipment.

“That just leaves you, Mikey. Do you have a prior engagement or are you free?” Cass reached a hand out to the orange turtle, almost pleadingly. She did not want to do grunt work anymore. Never again. 

Angelo thought about it for a moment. Did he have anything to do? No. Did he want to spend time dumping chips into bowls for roughly five minutes? Sure, why not. 

“I’ll do it.”

“Excellent!” Yes yes yes yes yes! “Not a soul shall get past me without proper documentation!”

Casey Sr then ran off and down the stairs, eager to kick the ass of whomever tried breaking into the wedding uninvited. 

Yikes on trikes, that girl needs therapy. Well, at least I’m completely at peace with everything that’s happened to me and clearly have no repressed or unprocessed trauma. Mikey thought to himself, eyes unsubtly to his hands as he made his way outside, the thin golden cracks lining his hands and arms barely covered by his compression gloves. 

Once at the paisley-clothed table which stood somewhat secluded by the entrance to the venue, the orange turtle made short work of putting cold appetizers on plates, chips in bowls, and sweets in baskets. A well-prepared allergen sheet was placed in the center, printed in bold font. As a last resort, EpiPens were also at the ready in the first building by the beverage station. 

With the last of the finishing touches in place (pretty much just Mikey putting flakey salt on anything that seemed lacking) a commotion was heard at the entryway. The guests at the door couldn’t see the turtle from where he stood but he had an amazing view of them. 

‘ Hey Dee, it’s go time.’ The text was sent with a devilish grin, Angelo watching each metaphorical domino fall into place as his blue brother walked into the venue, rabbit boyfriend beside him. He wouldn’t normally consider being evil, but Donnie was a powerful influence. So the box turtle simply waited.

—

Donatello’s phone buzzed as he calibrated his playlists, fixing a glitch that overrid his original programming and forced the equipment to only play sad dubstep. This would’ve been fine had it not been an annoying detriment to the wedding. The purple turtle avoided punching the console in a bid to keep the machine from gaining sentience, again. It would’ve taken one more wire being put back into place to fix the problem completely, a job interrupted by the door to the room slowly swinging open.

“Kia ora, Donnie. Is now a bad time?” Darby glanced in, the sound of depressing techno music having caught his attention from a floor up. 

Dee pressed the stray wire into place, the playlist shifting back to what was planned and then paused. “Not anymore. Kia ora.” 

He turned away from his work, looking up to see one well-clad hippo. “Looking good, Hypno. Love what you’ve done with your hair.”

“Not too bad yourself, turtle. Care for a quick chat?” Darby sat on the ground beside Donnie, watching as the turtle shuffled to put his tools away. 

“Um, sure. Is this about the music? I fixed it.” The soft-shelled turtle pressed play on his device, the music sounding normal until the keynotes of one strange song began to get louder, rising in volume as the lyrics started.

Two trucks having- 

“Whoops, how horrifically incorrect! Let’s just,” he said, a few twists of knobs and turns of dials in frantic succession, the music changing with a title that read ‘Wedding Music - Back-up’. 

“Do I even want to know what that was?” Hypno raised an eyebrow, even more concerned for his nephew and what could possibly be happening with him. 

“No, absolutely not under any circumstances. So you said you’d like to talk with me?” Subject change pending.

“You’re a perplexing fellow, Donathan. But yes, I would.” The magician tried not to roll his eyes, the redirect typical of the purple turtle. “Are you alright? You seem quite stressed.” 

“Me, stressed? It’s more likely than you might think. But I’m fine! It’s fine.” Dee pulled out his phone, shooting Mikey a text to commence with their plan, eyes away from the hippo.

“I’d prefer if you didn’t lie to me.”

“What am I supposed to say? The whole truth?” Donnie asked. The hippo nodded.

“Yes, I am stressed out of my mind. Everything’s been going wrong, I feel like complete shit , and I wish I hadn’t said yes to it all. But it’s your day, this magical day you’ve been dreaming of, and who am I to deny you that right?” 

“If you told me you couldn’t or didn’t want to do something, I would’ve told you it’s alright. I don’t expect you to do everything I ask of you.” The hippo reached over and paused the music, the excess sound only seemed to make things worse.

“I can’t do that. I can’t say no to you.”

“Donatello, if there has ever been a time I said or did something that made you feel that way, point it out to me. I know you record everything, I want to know where I messed up.” Hypno picked at the buttons on his suit, stopping once he realized that he’d destroy them.

“No, it’s not that-” Donnie could feel himself begin to shut down, it all becoming too much to handle, to think about.

“Then what is it?” Darby whispered the question, trying not to bother the purple turtle further.

‘I don’t want to disappoint you!’ The turtle signed, overwhelmed. 

“Oh, Donnie. You could never disappoint me. Never.” 

‘Doubt it.’ Dee hugged his knees to his chest, eyes to the ground. 

“You shouldn’t, you know.” The magician wanted to reach out and comfort the boy but settled for words.

‘Why do you care so much about how I feel? You do so much for me, I owe you. My feelings shouldn’t matter.’ Donnie signed, looking back up to see Hypno sigh.

“You know you matter, right? At the very least, you matter to me. Everything you do, all that you are, all of it matters. I’m not just saying that to say it, I mean it. Donnie, you’ve near single-handedly changed the direction of my life and I cannot put into words how much you mean to me. To Warren. To everyone here. So please, let me do this for you.” 

Darby reached out to embrace his nephew, backing off as he saw Dee wasn’t accepting physical touch. A thin metal spider arm reached out and grabbed him, however, holding the hippo tight.

‘I missed our talks.’

“I missed them, too.”

‘Would it be alright if I only sang three of the five songs?’ Dee signed as he slowly stood back up, taking the hippo with him.

“You don’t have to sing any of them. All I want is for you to be happy and enjoy the wedding. If you find something you’d like to do, go for it. But for now, there aren’t any expectations riding on you.”

“...Thank you.”

“Of course.” Hypno smiled at the sound of Donnie’s voice. “Would you like to come with me? The whole ordeal should be starting in fifty minutes and I thought I should give everything a once over.” 

“Yeah, I think I will.” 

As they made their way out into the main area of the venue, Donnie stopping to place the DJ equipment near the end of the aisle, Hypno couldn’t help but stand at the front of the aisle and look out at everything else. 

The reality that this was truly happening settled in, an innate understanding that the magician felt rise in his chest. Happiness, an actual future, the love of his life linked to him forever (or until an unlikely divorce), all within his grasp. Not like he hadn’t had these before, but a wedding really solidified it all. 

While Darby stood teary-eyed, Dee was busy keeping an eye out for Leo since Mikey gave him the signal, half-hiding in a shrub with his binocular goggles. If all were going well, Leonardo should already be heading to the snack table. As for his date-

“Is that Yuichi Usagi? What is this, a crossover episode?” The purple turtle frowned as he adjusted his binoculars, turning his attention to where Mikey and Leo were. “Of course he found a guy that’s similar to him. He’d date his clone if he could.” 

—

Over on Angelo’s side of things, the plan was in motion. 

Michelangelo walked around the table in stealth, ensuring his cover wasn’t blown before the surprise. It needed to go perfectly. 

Yet in the midst of his sneaking, the box turtle barely noticed he had bumped into someone. Someone familiar.

“What the- oh.” Leonardo’s heart stopped for a moment. Or at the very least, felt like it did. He was utterly doomed to face the consequences of his actions if he didn’t think of something quick. Anything at all…

“Leon. Why are you here?” The orange turtle was smiling, a wicked and knowing display.

“Oh, Mikey! What a weird coincidence! What are you doing here?” The blue turtle put up a calm facade, of which beneath the surface was only panic and guilt. 

“I asked first.” Mikey saw through him in an instant, going far off the agreed-upon plan. He knew his older brother would be there, but to actually hear how he met Warren and Hypno would be a welcome treat. 

“Just wandering around, heard they had good, um, snacks, here.” Is that seriously the best I could come up with?

“This is a wedding, Leo.”

“It’s a wedding?! Oh, would you look at the time! Gotta go polish my swords.” Leonardo attempted to make a break for it, the coattail of his ornate cobalt blue suit jacket getting stuck on the edge of the snack table.

“You’re really floundering, Nardo. Don’t worry, me and Donnie know Hypno and Warren. And you were being really obvious about your whole situation, so we figured you’d be here too.” Mikey unhooked Leo from the corner, catching him before he fell face-first onto the ground below.

“What do you mean by ‘obvious’?”

“The rabbit fur, New Zealand t-shirt, and the constant magic shows you’d put on in the house. Can’t forget the dove feathers, sneaking away every Saturday without explaining yourself, and really upping the mope factor to cover for the fact that you have a boyfriend. No one listens to ‘Numb’ by MARINA that often, dude.” At this point, Angelo had pulled out a list of observations compiled by him and Dee.

“Hey, what’s with the paper? You were writing it all down? Geez.” Leo rolled his eyes before getting back on his feet. 

“Does Raph know, too? I swear, he’s been acting weird.”

“Nope. Remember a couple days ago when he saw you doing card tricks and punched you in the face?” 

“Yeesh, yes! That fucking hurt.” Leon rubbed at his cheek, a bruise barely visible under all the turtle foundation and concealer he had applied. 

“Yeah, it’s ‘cause Raph hates magicians. This started, like, a week ago. Should’ve warned you, but Dee wanted to see what would happen.” Mikey held a hand out to his brother and guided him to a different corner of the table, out of Donnie’s range of sight.

“Now, tell me about your new boyfriend. He seems way better than your usual bottom-of-the-barrel picks.” 

“Hey! I mean, you’re right, but that still wounds me, brother.” Leo draped his hand over his head dramatically, posing in a way as if to be picked up and carried off by angels. 

“Yuichi-, he’s better. Way better than anyone I’ve gone out with before. We snuck into the Battle Nexus on our first date and he told me he wanted to fight everyone there. I told him I’d do it first and then we sword-fought in a Denny’s parking lot to see who’d get first dibs. He kicked my ass.” The blue turtle tracked his partner with his eyes, watching as the rabbit completely ignored Cass’ attempts at being intimidating. 

“I think I love him.” 

Those words hung in the air for a moment, a certainty to them despite the statement. It was undeniable, an immutable fact about himself, as if carved into his soul. If not by words alone, cemented by the pounding of his heart and blush in his cheeks. 

“Tell me more.” Mikey looked up at Leo starry-eyed. The plan to dump a five-gallon bucket of jello on the slider was swiftly abandoned, much to Donnie’s chagrin once he caught wind of things. 

“A few weeks ago we went to the Hidden City. Usagi wanted to see what yokai are like here since they’re his special interest. He didn’t believe me after I said we encountered several, including Senior Heuso. When I told him he technically was one it blew his mind. Told me that he wore a ‘born this way’ t-shirt at Pride so people would stop asking him if he were a mutant or yokai because and I quote ‘the jokes stopped being funny after the first ten times.’”

The blue turtle found a seat and pulled it up by the snack table, propping his chin up with his hands, a lazy grin on the slider’s face as he continued to watch the rabbit boy run around. 

“He’s a complete dork. Full of goofy one-liners, laughs at my jokes, thinks I’m genuinely cool. I was setting up a trick to pull him out of hat for one stylish entrance but the hat, kinda, sorta exploded…” 

“Dee isn’t gonna be thrilled about that. He knows you took one of his top hats, but now that it's been destroyed well-” Mikey turned to where Donnie hid, signing the word ‘failure’. “But that doesn’t matter right now.”

Angelo bent down and threw his arms around Leo, holding his brother tight. “I’m so glad to see you happy again. It’s been a while.”

It was true. Leonardo Hamato hadn’t truly been at peace in nearly a year and a half. Nightmares, sleepless nights, days where he forced himself out of bed. There was a voice in the back of his head telling him he should’ve died in the prison dimension, that he would’ve been better off to live in a memory than continue to exist. There were moments where the voice nearly won. The blue turtle tried to talk to Mikey about it before, yet the efforts were in vain, not wanting to bog his younger brother down with his problems. 

But after meeting Yuichi, as well as the magic and flirting lessons with Darby and Warren, Leo began to attend therapy at the hippo’s suggestion, and it slowly became easier and easier to tune the voice out and live with the feeling than ignore it in the hopes it’d leave on its own. 

“Yeah, you’re right.” Leo turned to look up at his brother, a tired smile gracing his lips. “I’m sorry it took so long.” 

“Nothing to apologize for, I get it. I think we all do.” The cracks in the orange turtle's arms glinted as if to remind him. “Was it easier to get better thanks to him?”

“Definitely.”

Thoughts of his dates with Yuichi ran through Leo’s mind. A journey upstate to see blooming fields of flowers, falling asleep in said fields and leaving very distinct outlines in the grass. Sneaking out in the middle of the night to attend impromptu concerts at their favorite pizza place. That one blacksmithing class that was about sword making, but quickly turned into a hazard when the rabbit jumped into it all head first without knowing what he was doing (his whiskers are still singed). 

Look at you, strawberry blond

Fields rolling on

I love it when you call my name

Can you hear the bumblebees swarm?

Watching your arm

I love it when you look my way

We’re really in it now, Mitski. 

Leon felt his heart ache, ache for a shared future, for a life beyond his means. His fears weren’t coming true, the reception to his partner only positive. He could do it, continue being happy. Some say you need to love yourself before loving others, but that isn’t always true. Sometimes it takes the right person to come along and give you the strength to love yourself, to finally make the changes you couldn’t on your own. And this was it. 

“I love him. I’m in love with him.” Each word only sealed the turtle’s fate even more. 

“Hot damn, never heard you say that about, well, anyone before. Congrats, Leo.” 

Leo wiped his eyes, tears building up. “I think I built up your reaction in my head way too much, thought you’d hate him, and he’s done nothing but make me happy… It was a defensive maneuver, but I should’ve known better.” 

“I don’t think I could ever hate the person who gave me my brother back.” Mikey held him tighter.

“Besides, I thought y’all were gonna kill me for making friends with Hypno and Warren. Turns out I didn’t have anything to worry about, but it still scared me to let it out.” 

“Befriending villains is your whole thing, Angelo. It wouldn’t surprise like 90% of us. Gonna guess you got to them first.” Leonardo freed himself of his younger brother’s embrace to stand and peruse the drink selection. 

“Nope! It was Donnie.” Mikey joined Leo, pulling a cherry coke aside for himself.

“Wait, really?” Nardo sipped his sprite as he thought it over. “Y’know, that tracks. Darby told me he picked up chess but wouldn’t tell me who taught him, used a lot of Dee-terminology.” 

Angelo scoffed. “Of course he did. Do you think uncles pick favorites or just our dads?” 

“Oh, they totally pick favorites, all of ‘em.” 

“So if Donnie is Hypno’s favorite then who’s Warren’s?”

“April,” they said in unison. 

“They’ll never admit it, though. Doesn’t really matter either.” The box turtle shrugged his shoulders, cracking the tab on his soda.

“Yeah, you’re right.” The two watched as guests began to shuffle in, all interrogated by Casey Sr, a mass shuffling of invites out into the open becoming background noise. 

“Since we’ve got time before it all starts, wanna hear about how I picked out this rocking outfit?” Leon ran a hand over his clothes, sequins catching in the sun.

“Sure.” 

“It all started-”

Earlier

“So you’re just gonna wear the same outfit you always wear when bussing tables?” Leo hung in the doorframe, watching as his boyfriend made his way to him.

Usagi walked through the curtain separating his bedroom from the living room of his apartment, his outfit not exactly that remarkable. Black vest over a white button-up and grey slacks. It was passable but lacked excitement.

“First of all, it’s waiting, not bussing. Second, it’s not like you can do any better.” Yuichi folded his arms and leaned back with a smirk, eyeing up the shopping bag in the slider’s grasp. 

“Is that a challenge?” Leo scoffed as he ducked into the bathroom. “We’ll see about that.” 

Fabric flew through the air, the blue turtle getting dressed in under a minute. Under stealth, the ninja snuck behind the curtain before jumping out dramatically. Because everyone knows your outfit means nothing unless there’s a swish accompanying it. 

An ornate cobalt blue suit in sequined glory was worn proudly over a naples yellow dress shirt, a silver bowtie with golden turtles patterned over it, and charcoal grey slacks beneath. 

Leonardo pressed the bag with additional clothing into the rabbit’s palm as Usagi looked him over with blush and a grin. 

“I stand corrected, kappa.” 

“Good. Now it’s your turn!” The slider shoo’d Yuichi off toward his bedroom to get dressed, fingers tapping against the wall in anticipation while he waited. 

Two minutes passed before the curtain was brushed aside to reveal the rabbit. 

Sky blue blazer over black button-up, red bowtie with white bunny pattern, along with sky blue dress pants that matched said blazer. 

“How are you so pretty?” It was supposed to be a thought, an internal one at that. Yet it escaped Leo’s lips so easily, watching as Usagi turned to show off. 

“Well it all started with my great grandfather-” Yuichi started with a giggle. “I’m gonna go out on a limb and say that I look better than before.” 

“Oh absolutely.” Leo nodded rapidly, thumbs up. He could feel his heart racing. 

“Great! Let’s go now.” Usagi took Leonardo by the hand, fingers interlocking (to the best of their ability), the two heading out the door. 

Present

Twenty-five minutes til the ceremony. 

“We should probably sit by the aisle, right?” Yuichi asked, walking over to Mikey and Leo, Donatello hot on his heels. 

“Yeah, definitely. Donnie, what are you doing?” Leonardo narrowed his eyes at his older brother, looking behind his boyfriend. 

“Salutations to you, too. Just keeping an eye on the person from a different franchise , making sure space doesn’t warp. And since he makes you happy, it’d be in my best interest to ensure his existence continues uninterrupted.” The purple turtle had his goggles flipped down, the glossy red and blue lenses obscuring his expression. 

“Aww, you do have a heart!” Leo held a hand to his chest (plastron? Chest? Are they interchangeable? Do turtles have chests? AHHHH), touched by the gesture, but teasing his brother all the same.

Dee grit his teeth, goggles flipping back up. “Because this is a wedding and I am a guest and I promised to be civil , I will let that slide.” 

“So, where’s the bug?” Mikey spoke up, arms crossed. “Since you admitted to listening in and all.” 

“Left side of your shell, in the curve closest to the back of your neck. Good catch, Angelo.” 

Dee assisted in removing the recording device, the ‘pendant’ trapped in a harder-to-reach spot than anticipated. 

Leo and Usagi took that as their chance to sneak off to their seats, being stopped by a metal arm shoving a pillow with the rings into the slider’s hands. 

“Don’t forget about your duty as ring bearer,” Donnie shouted after them. 

“I didn’t forget!” Leo grumbled as he held the rings tight, taking his seat next to his partner. 

“Your brothers sure are interesting, especially the purple one. Is he always like that?” Usagi asked, leaning back in his seat with the occasional glance back to Donatello and Michelangelo.

“Oh, Donnie? Yeah…” 

“Regardless, I’m happy to finally meet some of your family. Kinda wish you could meet mine.” 

“I’m super close to making a portal to your world, so maybe then?” The pair had turned to face each other, hand in hand. 

“I’d like that.”

—

“They are painfully in love,” Donathan commented, having slapped the bugging device he pulled off Mikey onto Leonardo. 

“Sounds like someone’s just jealous.” Mikey teased, smirking. 

“Wipe that look off your face! I am not jealous, especially not of them. Now,” he said, shoving a basket of flower petals into his younger brother’s hands, “I’ll be walking Hypno down the aisle.”

“Cool, I need to throw these, ” Angelo shook his basket, “at people in less than five minutes. And- is that Todd?” 

Todd the Capybara strolled into the venue, invitation held out proudly as he walked by Cassandra, any attempts at intimidation rolling off the mutant like water droplets. Sunbeams and rainbows seemed to appear with each step he took, a smile etched onto his face. He wore a black suit and dress pants, golden necktie with a puppy pattern, and shiny brown leather boots. 

“Howdy! I’m today’s officiant!” Todd greeted the turtles as he made his way to the front of the aisle, taking his spot in the back before pulling up the required reading. 

The capybara, being a Buddhist, had no idea how to officiate a wedding, but put the time and effort into learning for the sake of his friends. Hypno and Warren had also made a rather generous donation to Todd’s animal sanctuary, so he put his best effort into being there for them. 

“I’m so glad you’re here!” April walked out of one of the side buildings with Warren, making their way past several guests before walking through a curtain that lead to the aisle.

O’Neil wore a cadmium yellow sundress with burnt sienna slacks beneath, along with a pair of rose-colored flats. Her hair was out of its usual bun duo, now styled in a fro, a black headband pushing her hair back. 

Warren Stone had his hair in his usual pompadour, his only real change for the big day being his outfit. It consisted of a dark blue suit jacket, white silk top, and black bowtie.

“Thank you. I’m so sorry for nearly being late, hit some traffic coming in from New Paltz, but anywho! I’m happy to help.” Todd stood proud, an aura of iridescence surrounding him. 

“Perfect. Now, are we almost ready to start?” Stone asked, looking around. 

Every single seat was filled, all with guests in the form of mutants met in passing and genuine friends made from Hypno’s poetry readings, as well as the turtles, of course. It was remarkable and overwhelming. 

“I think we should be all set. Donnie?” April called out, the purple turtle walking up to them.

“Yeah?” Dee said. “You’re walking Warren down the aisle first, right?”

O’Neil nodded.

“Cool, I’ll hang back with Darby until it's time.” The soft-shell turtle pressed a button on his wrist panel, activating the DJ equipment. “Once this song ends, it’ll be showtime.” 

“Wonderful!” Todd spoke up. “See ya then.”

Meanwhile Part Deux

Raph sat in the kitchen, cup in hand with a text wraparound that read: ‘My worst enemy became my mother and all I got was this stupid mug’.

In there with him was Casey Jones Jr, drinking out a mug of his own with flavor text in the form of: ‘Traumatized For Life’. 

The two were sitting on the kitchen counter, chatting between sips. A conversation that almost sounded rather, well, there are several subtle ways to put it with the most direct translation being ‘awkward.’ 

“Y’know, Raphael, I’ve been thinking about us for a while.” Casey started, looking longingly into his coffee. Discovering the delights of the past meant enjoying all of what had been wiped out of existence, coffee and energy drinks bringing a blissful rush. 

Raph nearly choked on his hot chocolate, blinking rapidly before settling on, “what exactly do you mean by that?”

Jones shifted around where he sat, restlessly. “Well, we’ve been friends for a while now haven’t we?”

“Yeah…?” The red turtle tensed up. Please don’t go where Raph thinks this is going. 

“Well, what if I told you I wanted to take our friendship to the next level?” Casey smiled at the snapper, inflicting psychic damage.

“Ummm.” No no no no no no no!

“I should probably just be upfront and say it, shouldn’t I?” 

Raphael didn’t even respond, barely nodding as the air refused to enter his lungs. Ahhhhh! 

“Raphie, would you like to be my best friend?” Jones looked up at the turtle with hopeful eyes, unaware of the terror he had wrought.

“Oh thank god!” Raph gasped for air, finally unclenching every muscle. “I thought you were gonna ask me to go out with you.”

Casey nearly dropped his mug. “Why would I ask you that?! You’re my uncle!” 

“You set it up like a romantic confession, man! Also, uncle?” The sheer level of emotional whiplash cracked the poor turtle like a whip, each word only stinging harder.

“Okay, so they don’t do the best friends confession in the past,” Jones muttered to himself, trying not to vomit. “I’m so sorry that I made you think that. Oh, that’s horrifying. And it explains why you looked like you were dying. That should’ve been a hint, honestly.” 

“It’s cool, dude. You just freaked me out real bad for a sec. Like, even if we weren’t family, it’d still be super weird to even think about going out with you. You’re like a fifth brother to me.” Raph placed his cup back on the counter beside him, his hands shaking.

“Same! Oh boy, I don’t think I’ll ever live this one down.” Casey reached across the counter for Raphael’s magic marker, writing additional text onto his mug. ‘Even More’ was added before ‘Traumatized For Life'. 

“Wanna just move on and forget this ever happened? The only change is that we’re officially best friends?”

“Yes, absolutely! Thank you, dude.” I really am the world’s worst time traveler. Could only do it once, no more do-overs. Wow. 

“No problem, Raph gets it. Now let’s move on to the wedding.” The red turtle straightened up, yoinking his and Casey’s outfits from behind him. “Do we dress up and go now, or should we wait? We’ve got, like, an hour.” 

“I mean, I wouldn’t really know. I’ve never been to a wedding before.” Jones’ head was spinning at the swift subject change, glad to be rid of a massive mistake, but still reeling all the same. 

“Cool, we’re in the same boat then. I’ve seen movies that have weddings, like Jupiter Jim and the Marriage of Sector Seven! But that was a space wedding. Can’t be that different, could it?” 

“As someone with no point of reference, sure.” Casey shrugged.

“I think we should wait, y’know, since we’ve got the time. And Leo told me something about being ‘fashionably late’ to events to look cooler.”

“Alright, I trust Master Leonardo’s judgment. Wanna play Mario Kart?”

“Yes! Best two out of three wins.” Raph began to race down to the living room to get his hands on the only controller that wasn’t sticky. 

“You’re on!” 

Now - It’s Happening Now

As the music faded out, the crowd of guests all sat patiently as Cassandra violently shooshed them into silence. 

Mikey walked down the rows of chairs, throwing flower petals into the air and along the carpet lining the walkway that led to the arch, fairy lights engaging as the sky began to dim outside the tent. With that, he sat beside Leo and Yuichi.

A single set of footsteps could be heard as April O’Neil walked Warren Stone down the aisle, the worm himself in a small basket as he couldn’t walk by himself. 

“Is it normal, feeling this nervous?” Stone whispered, his stomach twisting in knots as his hearts pounded. 

“Yeah, I’d think so. You’re gonna do great though. He already loves you.” April whispered back, the two reaching the end where Warren was placed on a stool to be at eye height with his partner. 

“Thank you.” 

O’Neil gave the worm a thumbs-up as she stood off to the side, taking her spot as maid of honor. 

Next came Donnie and Darby. 

Donatello interlocked one arm with his adoptive uncle, the pair making their way down the aisle steadily. It was what he had seen in movies, committing to the bit for accuracy’s sake. 

Hypno was grateful for this, any opportunity to have blood relatives walk with him evaporating into thin air the day he left New Zealand. At seventeen, the thought of being disowned was daunting. But at thirty-six, the magician no longer cared for the thoughts of ‘blood family’. He was surrounded by loved ones, living a life his younger self could only dream of.

“Donatello?” The hippo whispered.

“Yes?”

“I’m glad you’re here.”

“So am I.” The purple turtle let Darby go, now at the arch. 

And with that, Donnie took his place on the side as best man.

— 

“Friends and family of the grooms, welcome and thank you for gathering here on this day, for the union of Warren Stone and Darby Pewhairangi!” Todd called out, moving forward to be right behind the archway. 

“Love’s a special thing, don’cha know. To carry and nurture that feeling, live in it, and express it in all ways; it would only be right in taking one of the final steps and declaring it for a possible eternity. So, to dig from the wells of your souls, which of ya would like to first engage in the reading of the vows?” The capybara turned from Warren to Hypno, eyes shimmering expectantly.

“Oh, we’re getting right into it? Well, I’ll go first.”

Darby unfurled a long set of notes, quickly getting to the top of them before addressing the crowd. “My apologies, this is going to take a while.”

Cassandra shot him a look from her seat. “It’s only two pages, however.”

Then he turned to Warren with a smile.

“I love you. I could say that a million times in a million ways, but it’d never fully encompass what you mean to me. You are the dew upon the grass, the smell of ink on paper. I’m your shadow in the evening sun that always stops to linger.

It’s odd, all the subtle ways you’ve changed my life for the better. Every day for the past three years, I woke up happy, next to you. It’s the security in knowing you’ll always be there, that all the good things we built together won’t just up and disappear. You make life worth living and I’ll never stop being grateful for that. 

For so long, I was alone. It’s difficult to trust others once you’ve been burned so many times, and still you were patient. You were kind. You trusted me to trust you. The world had cast us aside, yet we found each other. With all the ways you enrich our lives together, I’ve finally figured out the truth. If I were to wake up tomorrow void of all my powers, you’d remain the only magic in my life worth living for. 

I see the stars in your eyes with each kiss, reaching for Heaven as I run my fingers through your hair. My home will always be with you. You burn as bright as a fireball, my darling. I’m so very lucky to bask in your glow.” 

Hypno caressed Warren’s face in his hand, gently wiping away tears from his love’s face. 

The entire crowd was misty-eyed, even Donnie, whom was on temporary tissue hand-out duty of his own volition. 

“Oh Darby, every word you speak of me is beautiful.” Stone was struck near speechless, completely enamored. Yet felt his nerves twist in anxiety, not sure how he was supposed to top that. But just as quickly as the feeling came did he remember what April told him:

“ He loves you no matter how you express it. It’s not a competition. You’ve got this!” 

She’s right! I can do this. I can tell him and look damn good doing so! The worm thought to himself, grateful for the confidence boost. 

He shuffled his notecards before clearing his throat. “Guess it’s my turn, huh?” 

Hypno nodded, an effervescent smile on his lips. 

“Well, you say I’m worth living for, but I’ve always found you worth dying for, my love. If anything happened to you, I’d burn this city to the ground just to watch the flames dance in your eyes. If taken from me, I’d kill the gods and walk backward into Hell. You are the very encompassment of my desires, the larger-than-life beacon of shine and dazzlement. 

The warmth of your love envelops me like a blanket, a shelter from the storm we call life. If I am ever to fall out of your favor, may the heat of the Sun extinguish itself and leave me frozen and alone. 

Each morning I watch as you get up and make us tea, before getting ready and applying your makeup. Then there’s the way you’d stay up late typing, cursing your reading glasses since they kept sliding off your face, reading what you wrote in all the character voices. Letting me judge your outfits before we’d go out and settling on the best one. Stopping on our walks to pet every dog, telling me how you were never able to get one when you were younger. Your smile, brilliant and glorious. You always look so beautiful, no matter what. I can’t help but linger, simply staring at you. Despite seeing you hundreds of times, you’ll always be as gorgeous as the day we met. 

And I wonder if you’re proud of yourself for pulling off the grandest heist of all. You’ve stolen all five of my hearts, my love, and I can’t ever be grateful enough that you decided I was good enough for you.

You’ve brought magic to my life in so many ways. I love you.”

The crowd lulled in stunned silence, quiet bouts of wonder and admiration for such a declaration that had been witnessed. Tears spilled from all, a river of which came from Darby. This was his perfect day in every respect and he wouldn’t have it any other way. 

“Now for the rings,” Todd called Leo forward, the turtle too busy wiping his eyes at first to get up, before moving down the aisle.

“That…*sob* was so *sob* beautiful!” The slider tearfully made his way down the aisle, pillow with rings in hand. Each ring was custom-sized to fit the wearers, a thin silver chain around the one meant for Warren. 

“Do you, Darby Pewhairangi, take Warren Stone to be your husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, until parted by death?” 

“Forever and always, I do,” Darby said, placing the ring upon the ring finger on Warren’s outstretched hand. 

“And do you, Warren Stone, take Darby Pewhairangi to be your husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, until parted by death?” 

“Breaking news! I do.” Warren placed Darby’s ring upon his finger as well, completing the exchange. 

“Yes!” Todd pumped his fist in the air. “You may now kiss each other, if you’d like.”

Darby leaned down, gently placing a hand around Warren as the two shared a tender kiss while the guests cheered. With a spark already so strong between the two, moments like this were pure electricity.

“With the power vested in me by the state of New York, I now pronounce you two husbands!” 

“Whoo hoo! Fuck yeah!” Cass was whooping and cheering the loudest, standing up on her seat as she clapped with a voraciousness that could shatter glass. 

“Now for the fun part.” Hypno gave Donnie the go-ahead to switch to the recessional playlist. 

“Who wants to try their hand at catching the bouquet?” Darby asked, guests getting up on their feet. 

“What bouquet-” Leo started.

“This one!” The magician pulled an excellent arrangement of flowers from his sleeve, so large as to be impossibly conjured from thin air. 

“Woah!”

“Now,” Darby turned around, back facing the crowd, “catch!”

As the flowers sailed through the air, high above the crowd in daisy swarms and sunflower glory, a deep and unsettling rumble came from a street over. It only seemed to draw ever near, stomps filling in the pauses in murmurs from the crowd, each person except the turtles, April, and Cass unbothered by the development. 

They stealthily made their way to the gated entrance to the courtyard, guests still distracted by the falling bouquet. 

*BAM* Fast-forming cracks in the sidewalk led to a new split in the brick wall. Hypno absolutely wasn’t getting that insurance payment back. 

The group backed away as the steps only grew closer and closer, bright red energy filling the area, blocking out the setting sun. 

“I caught it!” Yuichi shouted, smiling as he turned to where Leonardo once stood. 

Yet at that very second, the gate was kicked down, mystic form dissipating as Raphael Hamato barged in with Casey Jones Jr in tow. 

“I object!”

Chapter Text

Raphael was feeling pretty confident. Not as confident as he could’ve been if he had actually shown up on time, but still. Especially as he remembered to shout out the famous line he’d seen in movies. It didn’t matter to him that the ceremony had ended, or that he had shown up an hour late, simply that he made it at all once Casey pointed out that the turtle read the invitation incorrectly the first time. 

He had gone in his ninpo form as the travel time was cut in half, flinging himself across the river with Casey clinging to him for dear life. The red turtle had caused far more destruction and havoc than intended, but still made the grand entrance he had envisioned all the same. 

So when the first words out of Donnie’s mouth were: “Raph, I swear to Gram Gram, if you ruin Darby and Warren’s wedding!” All the red turtle could answer with was, “who?”

“What do you mean by ‘who’? You obviously know. And here I am thinking I did a great job hiding it.” Dee had a look of exhaustion grace his face, the stress once diminished earlier now rising back to the surface. 

“I came here to protect you guys.” A touch disoriented, Raph felt his confidence fade.

“Protect us from what? Do you even know where you are,” Donnie said before signing, ‘or did you guess?’

The snapper took a moment to actually take in his surroundings, Casey Jr sidling up to him just as baffled.

A glance showed a gathering of mutants and yokai alike he had never met before, all turned to face him with varying levels of fear and disgust. Directly in front of him stood his brothers, sister, and future sister-in-law, shocked and bewildered looks on each one of their faces, with Donatello the most upset (obviously). 

Fast approaching was a white rabbit yokai that took to Leonardo’s side, a fistful of flowers clenched in one hand, rather confused by the new development and keeping a hand to the hilt of his sword. Toward the back of the venue was Todd, smile waning by the second once the loving atmosphere was essentially blown up. 

Then there was a worm in a tux, completely unfamiliar in all respects, but he looked pissed. And of course, walking back up the aisle in a controlled, icy, manner, triplicate rings held tight in shaking fists, was the only villain Raph recognized. 

“Get out,” Hypno said, barely a whisper as he only got closer and closer.

The magician had no desire to fight, not after all of the planning, the love and care that went into every aspect of this momentous occasion. He simply wanted the red turtle gone, the only one he never had a real chance to speak with. The hippo would try his damnedest to be civil for the sake of his found family, but there were no promises in moments like these. 

“I know I overdid it with the entrance, and I’m sorry ‘bout that. But I won’t go, not yet.” Raphael stood his ground, gearing up for combat as Donatello shot him dirty looks, with Mikey having to hold Donnie back. Leonardo fought the urge to reach for his odachi, the sword only on him to portal the newlyweds to New Zealand for their honeymoon. 

“I’m not leaving until they,” the snapper gestured to his brothers, “tell me how the hell they got tangled up with you of all people.”

“Given your current position, I’d rethink who the supposed ‘villain’ in the room is. You need to leave.” Darby’s slashing rings nearly went flying, only staying grounded once Dee broke free from Angelo to join the hippo’s side. 

“Why should I leave when you invited me?” It was asked in earnest, Raph pulling out the invitation from his suit pocket. The edges were frayed, silk strands thinning in the corners. 

Before the magician could get a word in, Cassandra jumped up and snatched the invite, reading it over before making a declaration.

“This is a forgery! It’s made of spider webs, the names are incorrect, and the typeface is comic sans. How on Earth did you fall for this?” 

“Wait, did you say spider webs?”

Meanwhile - The Adults Are Talking 

Sitting around a card table up in the rafters of the Battle Nexus, far from the prying eyes of any potential journalists or staff, were Big Mama, Baron Draxum, and Splinter (Hamato Yoshi, Lou Jitsu, Rat Jitsu, the world’s most rat-tastic bisexual; his list of aliases is a mile long). 

The three were in the middle of a particularly enticing round of ‘go-fish’ when the spider yokai shot up and excused herself from the game, rubbing her hands together menacingly while laughing. Totally not evil, not at all. 

“Have you found yourself a new winning strategy, my sugarbear?” Splinter called out, looking out from his position in a booster seat to actually see over the table. 

“You could call it that, my snuggle-pie,” she said slyly, a glow from one of her four wrists barely hidden. 

Barry kept his eyes on his cards, ignoring the nauseating nicknames, barely focused on his next play. The caprid knew something had to be up, Big Mama’s evil giggle fit on full display. He had been hoping his rodent husband would finally tire of the woman that tried, on numerous occasions, to murder not only their sons and daughter, but he and Splinter as well. It was becoming ever so tempting to stir the pot, finally push the odds in his favor of being Lou Jitsu’s only love, but the sheep was beginning to develop morals and now felt guilt when engaging in selfish activities. 

Looking upon the glint in the rat’s eyes and smile all he could think was:

Don't go there 'cause you'll never return

I know you think of me when you think of her

But then it don't make sense when you're tryin' hard

To do the right thing but without recompense

And then you did something wrong and you said it was great

And now you don't know how you could ever complain

Because you're all confused 'cause you want me too

But then you want me to do it the same as you

Eh, fuck it. 

“What exactly are you so happy about?” Draxum forced a smile as he then said, “care to explain it? I am sure we would love to share in your joy.” 

“Being rather personable today, aren’t you, Draxy?” The spider set all six of her eyes on the baron, a glint of a smile somewhere on her face. “I was going to keep this to myself, a little splendiferous surprise for later. But since you asked so nicely, I must tell.” 

Big Mama pressed the pink stone on her cloaking brooch, assuming her human form to make sitting at the table with her boyfriends easier. 

“It seems our little Leo has been keeping quite the secret from us.” The spider pulled up images of Leo and Yuichi sneaking into the Battle Nexus together, barely within view of the camera, but just visible enough to be identified. 

“So he has a boyfriend? I thought he would’ve introduced us to him, like with the last seven,” Splinter said, counting the failed romantic entanglements of Blue on both hands. 

“No, not after the last occurrence. We supposedly embarrassed him in front of that aqrabuamelu yokai, leading to him vowing to never let his dates meet family ever again,” explained Barry, arms folded as he sat back. 

“Well, yes and no, my dears. Leonardo thought he could sneak past me, bring in a powerful fighter without repercussion, and that I would simply let them be. Couldn’t even be arsed to buy a ticket. So, I’ve been doing some spying.” The spider woman grinned a horrifying grin, turning the screen on her wrist to face Splinter and Draxum. 

The screen showed Raphael barging into Warren and Hypno’s wedding, his energy form dissipating as he objected at the wrong time, his brothers all in wedding attire with less than thrilled expressions. The footage jumped to the red turtle holding out an invitation which was then proclaimed as fake, spider-webbing showing throughout the paper. It then cuts to an argument between Raph and Donnie, with the red turtle speaking as the soft-shell signed. Purple was crying. 

“It seems all our turtle-ly boos have been keeping secrets, but sweet Raphael simply wasn’t in on any of them. So I sent him a little surprise in the mail, an invite of his own. To say he’s been the life of the party is a bit of an understatement .” Big Mama rubbed her hands together menacingly. 

The room went silent for a moment, a form of rage building beneath the surface as the baron was first to speak.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” 

From there he got up from his seat, drawing up to full height. 

“All of this over two teenage boys sneaking into the Battle Nexus? Did you even bother asking Leo to pay and warn him not to sneak in next time, or did you jump right to this?”

Big Mama scoffed before saying, “you caught me there, Draxy. I could’ve asked, but this was far more exciting!”

Splinter got up from his chair as well, he and Draxum exchanging a look. “Are our sons in any danger? I recognize one of those villains.” 

“Oh Hypno? He’s incredibly powerful, but ultimately has grown soft for our boys - they consider him an uncle now.” The spider yokai folded her arms, this not being the response she hoped for. 

“So he won’t hurt them?” The rat asked, mind burdened with worry. 

“Not a majority of them, no. But I must say, this is his first real time speaking with Raph. And considering those slicing rings of his, this might become bloody .” She resisted the urge to cackle once she saw the look on the rat’s face. 

Barry reached for Splinter’s hand, beyond aggravated. “We need to leave.”

Splinter looked between the baron and the mob boss. He knew which of the two would fight for him, and the other that would sell him for one corn chip and then change the terms at the last second. He had a choice, an easy one, yet felt stuck in his tracks. It should’ve been easy. 

“I can’t. By the time we get there, it will be too late. I know our boys can handle themselves.” The rat man picked at his nails, eyes away from the sheep. 

“He’s right, you know. I doubt they’ll last another hour.” Big Mama let a twisted smile escape. 

“My husband and I are leaving. Even if I must carry him. Now stay out of it.” Barry reached down to pick up the rat but was batted away, eyes wide. 

“Since when were we married?”

“Is that your only takeaway from the situation at hand?” 

“For the moment, yes.”

The baron pinched at the bridge of his nose, not in the mood to explain what he thought was obvious. 

“Well, roughly fifteen years ago when I choose you to be my ultimate fighter, I also intended for it to be a symbol of our union. Seeing as you immediately became acclimated to the turtles, I took it as a yes.” The sheep felt his skin burn beneath his fur, embarrassed to recount the tale.

“So when you kidnapped me, stole my DNA, and mutated four turtles into our sons, that was an elaborate marriage proposal? Are you out of your mind?!” The rat man threw his hands in the air, perplexed. 

“Oh, so that’s absurd but when she, ” Barry pointed a finger at Big Mama, “has done nothing but put you in danger, put our sons in danger, you can’t help but stick around. Every single action she takes is for her own gain, and you still can’t help but love this monstrosity. Raphael might just destroy what the rest of our children hold dear thanks to her manipulation, and you can’t even bring yourself to tell me I’m right.” 

Splinter stood in solemn silence before saying, “that’s not-”

“It’s not true?” Draxum cut him off. “You’ve even deluded yourself. I still remember the day, Battle Nexus New York. Trapped in a goddamn paradise orb while that creature took joy in monetizing what could’ve been the end of their lives. Raph almost died. And just moments after terrorizing us, making attempts on all of our lives to turn the city into a fucking playground, you had the audacity to try and save her. ‘Big Mama, there’s still good in you’.” 

The caprid’s face twisted in disgust as he turned to exit the room, not bothering to look back. 

“I’ve harbored this resentment for a long time, Yoshi, but let her in because she made you happy. Because I love you.” Draxum’s fingers curled into a fist by his side, his teeth gritting before continuing. 

“But I suppose even the most fragile of feelings can change when you can’t even be the man I used to admire. So now it’s time to do what you say you cannot.”

“Wait, where are you going?” Splinter held out a hand but knew it was useless.

“To save our sons from her .” 

The Adults Are Fighting - Whoops

The group had moved into one of the side buildings of the venue, namely the second building up on the third floor. Inside a large, spacious room, the turtles and their human siblings/friends were all making attempts at talking Raph down and getting him to understand. To understand what, pray tell? Everything. 

And for the most part, the red turtle understood. He knew that they befriended Hypno and Warren, that his invitation was a fake from Big Mama, that the day he punched Darby in the face and declared war on magicians was the same day the hippo was attempting to hand deliver invites before settling on doves. Raph also knew that his brothers all had their reasons for keeping secrets. What he didn’t understand, who he didn’t understand, was Donnie. 

When the others were asked for reasons, they reluctantly spilled each detail. Mikey was the easiest to understand, the box turtle privy to befriending the ‘evil’ members of society and making them family, as well as his need for being taken seriously and relieving his stress being relatable. Next came Leo who simply wanted to learn about his interests, date in secret, and have a safe space for alone time, his fear of judgment kicking in when confronted with the thought of telling the truth. Then came Donatello. 

The purple turtle refused to say a word, nor move his hands to sign. All Raphael knew was that Donnie befriended Hypno and Warren first. 

“So you won’t tell me?” The snapper had inquired, yet was regarded with a dead-eyed glare. “Fine, then I won’t go.”

A minute of uncomfortable silence passed before the soft-shelled turtle slowly raised his hands up.

‘What the fuck do you want, Raph?’ Dee signed, expression cold and unreadable. He was far more upset than he ever wanted to let out, enraged for plenty of reasons, with the number one being the destruction of what he considered sacred. 

You see, Mikey and Leo hadn’t intruded the way Raph had. No, they interacted with their uncles within chosen timeslots, no overlap. There was mutual respect, an element of bonding. None of them invaded the other’s relationship with Darby and Warren, keeping a balance. Raph, however, broke through that balance the moment he arrived. The red turtle was an obstruction, maring what was a perfect day, only made perfect through sheer will and determination. Yet like a dog with muddy paws on a freshly cleaned floor, all efforts were simply made in vain. 

“What do I want? I want to know why you chose them, why you kept secrets. Hell, I’d love to know why everyone here except Casey Jr happened to know Hypno and Warren and decided I didn’t need to know. I’ve been worried sick for five fucking months, Donnie, and I want answers. Is that too much to ask for?” The snapper felt exasperated, already regretting his decision to go to the wedding. 

It didn’t have to be a battle for information, his younger brother unnecessarily difficult in his resolve. But Donnie wouldn’t be Donnie without pushing back, a trait Raph had become all too well acquainted with. 

‘You don’t get it, do you? I owe you nothing. They,’ the purple turtle gestured to his brothers, ‘spilled because they don’t have much to lose. But for me? You have no idea what you’ve disturbed, and if you’re lucky, you won’t know.’ 

“Is that a threat? What happened to you?” Fear and worry flared up, the soft-shelled turtle not quite out of character, but certainly acting in a way to wrack Raph’s nerves. 

Beyond the surface level anger was a part of Donatello that held the truth. But that would require the shearing of emotional armor in favor of stopping a fight. 

Why say anything? Be the very thing he opted to hide? Admit to learning vulnerability, that he had finally become comfortable with who he was thanks to his adoptive uncles? No, it was too much, especially in a room full of people - even if they were his family. If there were one trait that truly cemented the twin bond between Leo and Donnie, it was that neither knew when to quit. 

“If you’re not gonna talk to me, I’m just gonna talk to you. And if it helps,” Raphael began to usher everyone out of the room, “it’ll just be the two of us.” 

Everyone exited, all varying levels of concerned. The Caseys protested on the way out, each for vastly different reasons, but ultimately left. After moments of waiting, the sound of footsteps growing further and further away ensured that they were truly alone. Then came the silence that followed, broken only by the red turtle. 

“Y’know, I should’ve guessed that Leo had a boyfriend when he started sneaking out more. It’s what he always does, but the guy seems decent for once,” Raph started, taking a seat in an abandoned folding chair. 

Dee didn’t care to look as he signed, ‘yeah, he’s made Leo incredibly happy. I won’t have to kill him.’ 

The snapper chuckled. “It’s nice to see him with a guy like that. Only kept him from us to see if he really was as good as he appeared to be. Guess the same could be said for Warren and Hypno.” 

Raph sighed as he sunk back in his seat, the metal beneath him creaking as the legs dragged into the floorboards. “Now, when Mikey started going out more, at first I thought he was spray painting new spots around the city. But he’d always come home early, and sometimes he’d smell like a bakery. Never brought any food home and looked happy. Figured he found a hobby, could’ve been taking cooking classes.”

“Then there was the weekend back in July when he didn’t come home for two days and I couldn’t reach him.” Raphael buried his face in his hands. “That’s when I feared for the worst.”

Donatello had begun to feel his anger subside in favor of concern, remembering those days all too well. The purple turtle raised a hand to sign, but his older brother continued.

“And it didn’t matter when he said he was fine, that he lost his phone, or that it was some weird trip he signed up for but forgot to tell us about - no, I was already worrying. I was failing him as his protector. What really drove it all home was you.” The red turtle got up and began to pace the room. 

‘Me?’ Dee was taken aback, arms crossed against his chest as he waited for his brother to speak again.

“The first time you left the lair, after sitting out a mission, I was proud of you for coming back home and deciding to be more open with us. And it kept happening, watching you come back smiling every time, texts telling us where you’d be, asking us if we needed anything - I was so so proud of you. I’m still proud of you. But then you started lying.”

‘Not saying who I was meeting up with is lying now? Do you hear yourself?’ 

“It ain’t just that, Dee. Like the day you said you were getting bubble tea. I knew you weren’t there, so where'd ya go?” Raphael leaned against the wall, making impressions in the plaster and paint with his spikes.

The metaphorical cat is already out of the metaphorical bag. Donatello sighed before he signed, ‘I was hanging out with Darby in an underground cafe. I - I was coming out, again.’

The soft-shell rummaged around in a pocket of his suit, fingers settling on four distinct pins. He handed them to his older brother. 

Raphael gave each pin in his hands a loving once-over, brilliant flashes of purple within his palm beside a rainbow infinity symbol. He handed Dee the pins back before speaking again. “So Hypno’s known about this for how long? Because you only came out to us a second time last Saturday on movie night.”

‘Three and a half months. But after thinking back on it, I think he might’ve known way longer, such as before we were friends. Do you remember the bisexual lighting from the eighties montage?’ The purple turtle began to yank a corkboard and red string from his battleshell, looking for pins to hold the string in place.

“Pull it back, Donnie. We can talk about whatever that means later. You really trust these guys a lot, don’t you?” 

“More than I’d care to admit,” Dee spoke, eyes downcast. 

“And they haven’t hurt you or our brothers?”

“If they had, I wouldn’t be standing here right now. They’re good, albeit strange, people. I-.” Donatello cut himself off, the degree of vulnerability catching in his throat.

“Yeah?” 

Donnie wasn’t quite sure of the reason for why he next spoke, either from the guilt of seeing his older brother’s distressed face perk up, or the thought that speaking the truth could ‘free’ him in some way. Regardless of what it was, the purple turtle made the conscious choice to finally be open with his older brother.

“I haven’t been this happy in over a year, Raph.” The soft-shell felt tears well up but ignored them. 

“When I’m with Darby and Warren, I feel seen! I’ve done things with them that I can’t with you guys, saw things I wouldn’t have, discovered aspects of who I am that would’ve remained dormant. They tell me that they’re proud of me, and I don’t have to fight for it like I do with Dad. My existence is enough. I am enough.”

Donatello couldn’t hold back sobs as they choked him, running down his cheeks like rivers. 

“Dee…” 

“So when you showed up today and thought you were doing us a favor, it proved that nothing I hold sacred will remain that way. I know it’s not your fault. I know you didn’t mean it, but it hurts!” Donnie’s body shook with each word, the threat of going non-verbal again creeping up on the purple turtle. 

That’s when he felt his older brother wrap his arms around him, the only one allowed to touch him in this state. 

Raph’s body acted as a weighted blanket, calming his younger sibling down. He pulled his fancy-shamntzy pocket square out of its holding cell (breast pocket) and dried Donnie’s eyes.

“I’m so sorry, Dee. I should’ve trusted y’all when you said you were fine. I trust you guys to make smart decisions, I do. It’s just, I’m terrified of losing all of you, and I just might over some fake invitation.” Tears fell down the snapper’s face as well, landing on Donnie. 

Donnie popped his head up, wiggling to have an arm be freed of his brother’s grasp. Upon being released, he dabbed his brother’s tears away and said:

“You haven’t lost us, and you never will. I’m sorry for not telling you about everything. I was so scared you wouldn’t understand that I never stopped to consider how you felt. I love you so much, Raph. There will never be a point in my life where I don’t need you. And you aren’t going to lose us over some bullshit our dumb-dumb mom put you up to.” 

“Thank you. I’m sorry for bursting in and ruining your friend-uncles’ big day. I get it if you’re still angry at me.” Raphael wiped his eyes dry as his tears stopped, Dee clinging to one arm in a hug.

“It’s difficult to stay mad at you, mostly angry at Big Mama. If anyone’s really pissed at you, it’s Hypno. If you and Jr intend on staying here, I’d recommend apologizing for crashing the wedding (as well as for punching him in the face that one time).” 

“Yeah, I should probably go do that. Wanna head out?” Raphael offered a hand to Donnie, the two beginning to walk toward the door. 

“Wait.” Donatello stopped before pressing a button on his wrist, speaking into the bug he planted on his younger brother. “I know you’re listening, Leo.” 

A muffled ‘what the fuck’ was heard as scattered footsteps scurried away from the door, the two older turtles opening it to reveal everyone acting as inconspicuous as possible. 

Well, no. They were being pretty damn conspicuous. 

Casey Jr was hiding in a potted plant, with Casey Sr hiding in April’s shadow. It did not help that she was taller than April by six inches. Speaking of O’Neil, she was pretending to play a card game with Mikey, whom was pretending to win. Lastly was Leo, whose boyfriend had decided to join in the fun of spying. The two were both trying to lean against the handrail of the stairs in a nonchalant way, looking cool and totally not listening in on a private convo. Instead, they crashed into each other once the door opened, heads banging with a sharp clack . 

“Not a single member of this family is normal,” Dee said with a chuckle, a hand to the ridge of his eyebrows. 

“Oh, I know. I know,” Raph replied, watching as everyone scrambled to get back down the stairs, the red turtle helping Leo and Usagi back up on their feet. 

As they made their way to the first floor, Donnie came upon a realization.

“This is floor soup all over again.” 

Raphael let out a snort, glancing around for any potential listeners, the rest of their family already out and about in the venue. 

“I thought we made a promise to never speak of floor soup again.” 

“Oh, we did, when we were five.” Donnie rolled his eyes as he smirked. “For the sake of brevity I shall not mention it past this point, but that’s what this reminds me of. A secret I thought I’d die with so no one would be upset.” 

“Well, I’m glad you decided not to die with this particular secret. As for the soup, we are never telling Dad. Never.” Raph shuddered at the thought, memories of eating soup off the floor once a pot spilled replaying in his mind. Dee had found him and they swore to each other they’d never tell. 

“Affirmative. Now,” the purple turtle gestured to the door, “let’s find Darby and Warren.”

***

Sitting in the back of the venue, grateful for his water-proof eyeshadow, sat Hypno and his loving yet almost comically angry husband, Warren. 

It was far too easy to let intrusive thoughts of karmic retribution and bad omens in, regretful of plenty. The hippo knew the evil league he abandoned in favor of a peaceful (with the occasional bank robbery) life would catch up to him, but never thought it would be like this. 

You should’ve done this, could’ve done that. Absolutely should’ve dealt with Big Mama the same way you’d deal with any spider - fire. Oh, but what would my boys think? Oh gods, I’ve referred to them as ‘my boys’. Is this it? Am I becoming paternal? I thought I’d just be the cool uncle. AghhhHhh! 

As the magician cycled through distressed thoughts, with a look on his face indicative of such, he barely noticed the worm attempting to point out the approach of Donatello with his brother, the wedding crasher, Raphael.

“Hey… Darby…” The red turtle attempted to get his attention, hand held up in an awkward wave. 

Hypno looked up with a groan, his neatly combed hair uncurling into his eyes. Nothing good can last forever it seems. 

“What do you want?” He wiped the hair from his eyes. “Here to wreak more havoc?” 

“What? No. I wanted to apologize.” Raph got down to the magician’s level, face-to-face and unafraid. 

“Oh, this is bound to be rich. Alright, turtle, hit me with it,” the hippo replied before adding, “not literally, however.” 

Raphael cleared his throat, the apology apparently stuck as he remembered the minimum of four times the magician had tried to kill him and his brothers. It’s all in the past, Raph. Don’t think about it. Just don’t think about it.

“I shouldn’t have crashed your wedding, should’ve realized sooner that the invitation was fake, that my brothers were fine. But that’s enough ‘what ifs’. I’m sorry for ruining your perfect day. You treat my siblings right and they all love you. I know I assumed the worst, but would you be willing to give me a chance? I understand if you don’t wanna after all of this ,” Raph said, gesturing to the walls of the venue, gate off its hinges, and cracks in the sidewalk.

“Oh, and before I forget, sorry for punching ya in the face last week. Kinda thought you were there to kill us since no one, ” the snapper side-eyed Donnie, “tells me who our allies are until it’s too late.” 

“You say that like we didn’t just have a heart-to-heart about secrets five minutes ago,” Dee grumbled. 

Darby stayed silent as he considered the apology, a slight smile forming. He had to admit, this was amusing. The magician was a strong believer in brotherly love and healing - a trait that got him booed at Battle Nexus New York - and to see that the turtles had made amends with each other and now made an attempt with him, well, how could he say no? 

“I’ll consider it, giving you a chance. You seem like a lovely person, Raphael, despite your initial first impressions. I mean, you could see them everywhere: in the sidewalk, the gate, the walls,” Hypno said, gesturing to the front of the venue with a flourish of his hand, watching as Cassandra made an attempt to help April get over a crack, only to be shown up by O’Neil’s jumping skills. 

“Right now, there is one thing I’ve been looking forward to all day, a moment you interrupted.” The hippo reached for Warren’s hand and held it gently, a loving glance thrown his husband’s way. “We were about to have our first dance as newlyweds.” 

“And,” Stone piped up, “so long as you don't destroy anything else, you and your friend can stay.” 

Despite being upset, the anchorman felt a twinge of guilt once he saw Raph’s eyepatch. He knew what the Krang had done, knew that he indirectly inflicted that suffering. An eye for an eye as they say. 

“Thank you, worm man!” Raph jumped for joy, stopping immediately after the first landing as the ground shook.

“It’s Warren,” The worm said defeatedly, powers of obscurity coming back into play.

“Oh, sorry. Thanks, Warren.” Raphael waved as he walked away, waiting on Donnie. 

“I’ll catch up in a bit, Raph. I’ve got some personal matters to attend to.” Dee waved back, watching as his brother made his way over to everyone else. 

—

“So,” he said, turning to Darby and Warren, “just to put a neat bow on all of this, I would like to, again, apologize for my brother’s actions. And furthermore, apologize for the actions of my stepmother that manipulated my brother.” 

“Don’t worry, Donnie, we understand.” The worm sat back, arms folded.

“Wonderful! Now, I have come bearing a gift.” Donatello pulled a wrapped package from his battleshell, the shiny colors of blue and gold on full display. 

“This is for you, Warren. I purposefully kept it from the gift table to expressly hand it to you.” 

Stone took the present with both hands, Darby placing it in his lap so it'd be easier for the worm to get at. 

Greedily torn at wrapping gave way to a medium-sized steel box, smooth seams sealing the contraption shut with two buttons on either side. It was a curious thing, so curious in fact that Warren couldn’t make heads or tails of it.

“How thoughtful…?” The worm’s eyebrows knit together as an uneasy smile graced his face. Be thankful for whatever it is, he’s giving you ‘the look’. 

“Oh, how foolish of me! I must implore you to press the buttons on either side at once.” Donnie’s eyes were shining, watching intently as Warren activated the gift.

The smooth seams unlocked, metal twisted and gears whirling as the box unfolded into a set of long, agile legs - complete with a pair of pants and shoes. There was a cushioned divot at the top in which the worm would sit, able to control the set wirelessly, thinking about his next move and the machine taking it for him. It was everything he had ever wanted, had begged for. 

At first, Warren was speechless, tears welling up as he held the contraption close, with the same care he once had for his gauntlet, Charlotte. There was a level of thoughtfulness he had never expected, the genuine touch of only being playfully ignored when he spoke rather than completely tuned out. He knew Donnie favored Hypno, thought he would be resigned to the background. This gift alone cemented that he wasn’t, not anymore. 

“I love it! I never would’ve expected this. Any reason for it or just ‘cause?” 

Dee was beaming as he watched his worm uncle try on the creation, walking on his own for the first time in three years. 

“As you were rather persistent in your need for legs,” his mind flashed back to that faithful night at the bar, “and I know too well what it’s like to live without a proper aid. I made these for you to make life easier, and to make your first dance as a married man more enjoyable.”

Warren took a few steps before running in a circle, the weight to each step feeling natural, feeling right. He searched for the correct words to express this feeling, avoiding any utterance of ‘magical’ to not upset the turtle. 

“This is… incredibly scientific. Thanks, Donnie, you’re a good kid. Now,” rememberings of an awful pun he once thought up came to mind, “did you do the coding for these?”

“Ohmigosh, you’re interested in the coding? Yes, yes I did!” The purple turtle rubbed his hands together gleefully, excited to explain his coding language that he invented himself. 

“That’s amazing! And you’re queer, right?” Stone tried to hold back a bastardly smile, Dee falling into his trap. The worm caught Darby shooting him a look, one that served to say: don’t do this. 

“Uh, duh. What does that have to do with anything?” Something isn’t right here. I can feel it. Donnie’s eyes narrowed.

“So what you’re telling me is, a queer coded this?” The worm doubled over laughing at his own joke as Darby and Donnie groaned. Somewhere across the venue, Leo’s shitty one-liner sense went off - he had influenced his worm uncle well. 

After years of dealing with his twin brother’s shenanigans, Donatello had come up with a fool-proof way to get back at puns. 

“Why yes, yes I did.” The techno turtle smirked, leaning into the joke in an attempt to kill it. 

“Good, we need more queers in STEM.” Warren leaned over and extended a hand to Hypno, pulling his husband up to his feet with a wink. “Care to join me on the dancefloor, my love?” 

The magician blushed, holding Stone close. “Absolutely, darling.” 

Donnie watched the couple run off together, giggling all the way to the dance area below the tented-over trellis. A smile graced his face at the thought that he could contribute to their happiness, his eyes wandering over to the empty spot where he was meant to sing. The microphone stood still, taunting him with its presence. 

Fine, but just one song.

Chapter Text

The purple turtle made his way over to his designated singing spot, taking a seat on the chair provided as the wedding playlist paused. It was the signal agreed upon the day prior for the first dance to formally begin. 

As he raised the microphone up, Dee locked eyes with Darby. The hippo seemed rather apprehensive. 

‘You don’t have to do this.’ Hypno signed, having learned sign language for Donnie’s sake. It came in handy when being sneaky, too. 

‘I want to do this.’ Donnie signed back, his smile from earlier far from waning. And with that, he began. 

I can dim the lights and sing you songs full of sad things

We can do the tango just for two

I can serenade and gently play on your heart strings

Be your Valentino just for you

The crowd of guests, previously having gotten over their feelings of fear and disgust from earlier, were now moving to watch as a turtle sang for a hippo and a worm. Isn’t this reality just grand?

Ooh, love, ooh, loverboy

What're you doin' tonight, hey, boy?

Set my alarm, turn on my charm

That's because I'm a good old-fashioned loverboy

Darby slowly danced with his partner to the beat, the two speeding up to match the pace of the music. What didn’t help were all the kisses shared between each step, the two giggling as they danced, eyes only for each other. 

Things were turning out far nicer than they ever expected. Well, despite the obvious hiccup an hour prior and the fact that the head of the mob wanted to wreck their perfect day, for some fucking reason. But that didn’t matter. All that mattered in that moment were the glint of their rings in the shimmer of the lights, the sweet sounds of their nephew’s melodic voice as he sang for them, and how they were barely keeping their half-baked waltz together. 

“I love you so much,” Darby said between kisses, grateful that Warren was at face height without having to lift him. It made each kiss, hug, and caress so much easier, moments he’d forever cherish. 

“I love you, too.” Stone smiled as the light reflected off Hypno’s eyes. He could’ve sworn he’d seen the stars in them, if only for a second. “Still can’t believe we managed to do this.”

The magician placed a hand over his ring, rubbing at the metal. “I’m glad we did.”

I'd like for you and I to go romancing

Say the word, your wish is my command

Ooh, love, ooh, loverboy

What're you doin' tonight, hey, boy?

Write my letter

Feel much better

And use my fancy patter on the telephone

“Is that your brother?” The soft-shelled turtle heard Yuichi whisper to Leo in the crowd, ignoring the two of them in favor of his performance. He had missed singing for his family like this, the last real time being before the Krang invasion. Donnie made a vow to do this more often, to spite those monsters and take back more of his life. 

Hey, boy, where do you get it from?

Hey, boy, where did you go?

I learned my passion

In the good old-fashioned

School of loverboys

Dining at the Ritz we'll meet at nine precisely (One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine o'clock)

I will pay the bill, you taste the wine

Driving back in style in my saloon will do quite nicely

Just take me back to yours that will be fine (Come on and get it)

“Hell yeah, Donnie!” April cheered. Cassandra cheered alongside her, almost heckling the purple turtle to sing anything from Girl In Red next, but quickly remembered her place. She very much wanted to ask O’Neil to dance with her, to take to the dance floor and show off for her date. Soon, soon enough. 

Ooh, love (There he goes again)

(He's my good old fashioned loverboy) Ooh, loverboy

What're you doin' tonight, hey, boy?

Everything's all right

Just hold on tight

That's because I'm a good old-fashioned (fashioned) loverboy

As the song came to an end, Raph and Casey Jr sat in chairs they pulled from the aisle, watching as Dee took a bow and activated his noise-canceling headphones to bypass the clapping of the crowd. 

“Thank you! Thank you! I’m not done yet! This next song’s for Warren Stone since he picked it out!” The purple turtle pointed to his uncle and shouted, unable to hear himself before deactivating his headphones and starting the next song. 

One October just came around

Just to shake the sky and move the ground

Just to strongly insist the wind should up and change

And it knocked down walls and bridges too

And it reached more people than we knew

And it left with nothing really

Left the same

You called it the reckoning

And your voice came through unquestioning

You said the universe is trembling

Don't ya know, don't ya know?

Cause you felt it coming long before

I walked you through your own front door

And I spent just a one night on your floor

For a few nights in a row

—

“I haven’t heard Master Donatello sing in a very long time.” Casey Jones Jr had a distant look in his teary eyes as he listened. 

Jones last heard Donnie sing when he turned seven, a birthday beneath the surface in an abandoned subway tunnel. The original base had been destroyed, a new one underway with the help of the purple turtle’s army of drones. Keeping to any semblance of pre-apocalypse traditions was nothing short of impossible, and Casey knew not of any of them. Except for one. 

Donatello, in his late twenties at the time, decided to give his nephew two gifts that day. The first was a literal fucking gun that shot lasers (it was firmly locked away in the ‘do not touch until you’re 18’ box), and a song. He sang ‘Happy Birthday’ to Jones, taking delight in the wide eyes and wonder of the small warrior. And then he was gone. 

“You okay, Case?” Raph nudged his friend, passing the teen a tissue.

Jones wiped his eyes, trying not to think back on a future that had simultaneously happened and would never come to pass. 

“Yeah, I think so. It’s just, he’s got a really nice voice is all.” 

The snapper nodded, taking the half-truth at face value. “He sure does.”

—

Oh, oh

I'm holding tight on you

Boy, I'm holding tight on you

Donatello bowed as he tuned out the claps of the guests, taking in the sight of everyone having a good time. 

Eh, one more. 

“This shall be my last performance of the night, but fret not, for I have a playlist prepared to take over in my stead. For now, however, I must sing!” 

The last song on the purple turtle’s list was one that represented all three of them - a theme of sorts. He had heard the couple singing it back and forth one day as he met up with them in their enchanted kitchen (which he hated but never directly expressed said hatred). They implored him to join in, Warren carrying the tune as he washed dishes in the sink as Darby dried them. Just like that, Donnie was seamlessly incorporated into the family, fitting right in as he started. 

It's a mixed up, muddled up, shook up world

I don't wanna be a boy, I don't wanna be a girl

Breaking the rules as I sway and swirl

Shining like a diamond in glitter and pearl

So let's go out on the town (yeah)

Light a fire, burn it down

I don't care what we do

I wanna get all dolled up with you

Take my lipstick, put it on

We'll all be making out 'til the break of dawn

I don't care what we do

I wanna get all dolled up with you

Hypno’s eyes lit up as he heard the first verse, looking up to Donnie as he signed ‘pass the mic’. 

With a chuckle, Dee relinquished the microphone to his uncle, of whom twirled the mic cord as he sang - Warren joining as well. 

The lights in the city got nothing on me

With your gold dust eyes and your love so free

Your red-hot leather boots make me shake

Sparks are gonna fly with every step we take

Let's cast spells, let's chant rhymes (yeah)

Let's be gay, let's do crimes

“Join us, Donnie!” Darby shouted, beckoning the turtle to the dance floor. 

Donatello obliged, jumping down from his spot and sharing the mic. If he hadn’t loved this song in particular, hadn’t known it like the back of his hand, he likely wouldn’t have said yes. But this was proving to be rather fun, and he owed them for missing karaoke night thrice in a row. 

I don't care what we do

I wanna get all dolled up with you

Paint my lashes on, I'll do yours

I want to feel pretty, want to be adored

I don't care what we do

I wanna get all dolled up with you

“Oh, I love this part!” Warren and Donnie shouted at the same time, neither having enough time to ‘jinx’ the other before starting the verse. 

They can't control us, they don't define us!

We never did belong

Hey pretty Starchild, we're gonna go wild

And sparkle all night long!

—

Mikey watched as his uncles and brother sang together, sticking to the back of the crowd. The fight from earlier still had him a tad rattled, never one for arguments or confrontation. 

It was nice to see Dee happy, to see any of his family happy. For him personally, well, the orange turtle felt alone. Everyone seemed to be paired with someone, either with a friend or lover. In this instance he had neither, so he continued to stand alone. Mikey wanted to join in with the singing, to pick up from where he and Donnie left off on yesterday’s dress-up montage. 

So when he looked up to see Darby, Warren, and Donnie beckoning him to sing with them, well, he couldn’t refuse. 

“Your turn,” Warren said, passing Angelo the mic, watching the box turtle light up. 

“Ohmigosh, really?!” Mikey jolted as his fingers grasped the microphone, loneliness shirked in favor of love and excitement. 

The worm nodded with a smile, watching as the turtle ran up to the three of them. 

“Ready?” Hypno asked.

“Ready!” The three called back in unison.

Let's go!

All dolled up

All dolled up, let's go!

All dolled up, all dolled up

All dolled up, all dolled up, let's go!

“Everybody now!” Mikey turned the mic toward the crowd, listening with bated breath until he heard the first signs of a chant forming. It started with Leo and Yuichi, then Raph and Casey Jr, and moved on to April and Casey Sr. As they sang so did every other guest that happened to be fine with unexpected audience participation.

All dolled up, yeah! All dolled up, yeah!

All dolled up, yeah!  All dolled up, let's go!

All dolled up, yeah! All dolled up, let's go!

“That was awesome! All together!” Angelo reached into his discarded basket of leftover flower petals, chucking them into the air as they scattered among the guests, each one singing the chorus.

I don't care what we do

I wanna get all dolled up with you

Take my lipstick, put it on

We'll all be making out 'til the break of dawn

I don't care what we do

I wanna get all dolled up with you

All dolled up, yeah!

All dolled up, yeah!

All dolled up, yeah!

All dolled up…

In a fit of giggles, the song came to an end and the wedding playlist came back to life. The dance floor was now free for everyone to enjoy, with two young couples each making a break for it to see who’d get there first. 

Cassandra Jones practically lifted April into her arms bridal-style, running as fast as she could to dance first and declare victory over her girlfriend’s gayest brother. The former foot recruit proceeded to do a flip to impress O’Neil, falling over in the process as two doofuses pushed past. 

Slow and steady wins the race, but Yuichi and Leo were neither tortoise nor hare. Shoving past, hand in hand, the two took up a corner all on their own. 

On the other side of the dance floor stood April, Raph, Donnie, Casey Jr, and Mikey, all of whom were working together to put on a group dance to show up Leo and his partner, an uncoordinated mess that ended in laughable disaster. Casey Sr decided to peel off and wait to ask O’Neil to dance, taking residence near Hypno and Warren on the side. 

Lady Gaga’s ‘Enigma’ began to play and it was over from there, Leonardo firmly in his element.

“Follow my lead,” he said, his focus solely on Usagi, a win for gay folks with ADHD everywhere. 

“Look Leo, I was going to tell you this earlier, but I don’t know how to dance,” Yuichi said sheepishly, reluctant to bother trying.

“Hey, hey, don’t worry. But as I said, follow my lead.” Leonardo winked, his fingers interlocked with Usagi’s, confidence as blinding as the overheated fairy lights. “I’m gonna show ya a little something I picked up from Heuso’s classical dance lessons.”

The rabbit let out a snort as he said, “can’t wait to see where you’re going with this.” 

“You won’t have to wait.” 

Leo pulled the rabbit close, twirling his partner in a circle as the two managed to not fall over. It took a few moments to get into the swing of things, but Usagi conceded to having a good time, picking up steps on the fly as Leon essentially gave the rabbit yokai a hands-on lesson. 

In a split second, the slider twisted and dipped Yuichi, sweeping the samurai off his feet, their faces nose-to-nose. 

The rabbit blushed as he realized what had happened, taking a moment to compose himself before saying:

“My auntie told me ninjas were sneaky, but I’ve never met one as smooth as you, kappa.” 

Had Leo the ability to catch fire, he would’ve burst into flame at that moment. To flirt was one thing, to flirt with death another, but to be flirted with ? A true gift in and of itself.

“I love you.” The words left his mouth with ease, as natural as breathing. 

“I love you too, Leo.” Yuichi reached a hand up and caressed the turtle’s face.

“Just kiss already,” said a faint voice from Leon’s shell, one that sounded a lot like the combined voices of his accompanying family members across the dance floor.

Of course, Donnie’s listening bug is still active. It’s got great advice, though. Leo thought to himself as he leaned in and finally kissed his boyfriend. 

Concurrently 

“May I bother you for a moment?” Cass asked, sidling up to Hypno and Warren. 

The worm was very tempted to say no but instead pretended to be occupied with other matters, shooting Darby a glance to say ‘too far above my pay grade’. Was he scared of Cassandra? Fuck yes. Would he inform her of such? Fuck no! No, Stone would go sit for a few moments instead, extra grateful for his amazing new legs. 

“Sure,” said Hypno, not minding the former Foot recruit. She was fine, albeit a bit odd and stab-happy in his book.

“Perfect! How do I ask her, ” she pointed to April without being incredibly obvious about it, “to dance with me?” 

“I’d say that’s an easy one. She’s your date, isn’t she?” The magician asked, amused. 

“Well, yes. But,” Cass said, trying to find the words, “she’s so… I mean, look at her! It isn’t logical, but I have come to a hypothesis that she has built a force field around herself, becoming unapproachable.” Cassandra folded her arms and nodded at her musing as if to affirm them.

Darby held back a chuckle, remembering when he used to feel the same way around his crushes as a teenager. Young love is funny from afar and painful up close, a lesson he knew too well. 

“Considering how she’s surrounded by friends and family, I’d cross your idea off the list. Nice work, though.”

Cass simply grumbled in response, eyes downcast toward the floor. 

“Say, how did you two meet? Given the nature of things, I’ll assume you went the enemies-to-lovers route?” The hippo suggested, making an attempt to coax the conversation.

“Excellent guess.” Cass was rather impressed until she remembered that the hippo could involuntarily read minds. “You’re right, we met while still embroiled in combat. Once I saw how she bested my off-brand Girl Scouts in hand-to-hand combat, I felt the spark they prophesied in all those shitty rom-coms.” 

“Wait, you made her fight little girls? Isn’t that, you know, morally questionable?” The irony of that statement was not lost on him.

“Oh, my scouts? They are exceptionally vicious. I trained them well. But even without my guidance, young girls are often killers. Have you never met a little girl before?”

“Met one? I used to be one.” 

That statement hung in the air between them for a while before Cass simply looked the hippo up and down and said:

“Congrats on your double transition.” 

Hypno made a slight choking noise as he processed the comment. She’s certainly got a way with words. 

“You're the first person to say that. But thank you, the second time was a surprise.”

“I’m sure it was. But um, about asking April to dance…” Casey Sr tapped two fingers together sheepishly. 

“Oh! Of course!” Darby got down on Cassandra’s level as he said, “so what you’ll do is, you’re going to walk over to her.”

Cass had already pulled out a notebook and started taking notes, listening intently. 

“And then you’ll say, ‘may I have this dance?’ It’s as simple as that.”

“What if she rejects my bid?”

“Typically I’d tell you not to worry about that, but to cover all your bases, simply respect that no and move on. From my vantage point, however, it appears that she’s waiting for you,” Hypno said, pointing to April who was looking their way and waving. 

“Thank you! Before I forget, I will speak with my son later about helping crash your wedding with Raphael. He knows better than that.” She started to run off to her girlfriend.

“Wait, your what ?” Isn’t she nineteen? And a lesbian? Am I assuming too much? Wonderful, now I have a grand nephew. Why the fuck not?

“My son. The tall one with dark hair, knows how we all die, standing in the corner over there.” Cass pointed to Casey Jr. He gave a half wave with an awkward smile, eyes still a bit red from crying earlier. 

“Excuse me, he knows how we die ?!” Darby felt his right eye twitch, looking over to where Warren was for moral support. This was shaving years off his life. 

“Not anymore! It’s complicated, just don’t think about it. See ya later!” 

Cassandra was halfway across the dance floor when Warren made it to his partner, holding the hippo close in a tight hug around one bicep. 

“Sorry for leaving you high and dry. That one scares me,” Stone commented, attempting to wipe the horrified look off Hypno’s face.

“You have exceptional intuition, love. We’re never having kids,” Darby managed to reply, head spinning from his previous conversation. 

“Why have more? We already have, like, seven of ‘em.” Warren chuckled, glancing around just in time to see his favorite nephew kiss the rabbit. “Or eight, if you wanna count Yuichi.” 

“Fuck it, why not? Might as well.” The magician let out a barely there laugh. “Who would’ve known this is how our lives would go? Not me, I’ll tell you as much.”

“I know you love it,” the worm teased, hooking his arm under Hypno’s. “How ‘bout we sit and have a drink? Leave the kids to their own devices. The storytelling toast is in twenty minutes anyway, so if the guests have anything to say, they can wait.”

Darby regarded his partner with a weary look. “You come up with good ideas at the best times, darling. Let’s go.”

Dance, Dance, Baby! 

Cassandra Jones had mastered the art of verbal smoke bombs, leaving any conversational partner exceptionally confused as she’d make her escape. Poor Darby didn’t need to be scarred for life, but alas, the hippo was collateral damage. 

In front of her was a clear path to April, her target drawing closer and closer, the invitation to dance within the former Foot recruit’s grasp! That was until Leo and Yuichi walked right in front of her, giggling to each other as they stood in the former cult member’s warpath. 

“Woah, slow your roll, Case. What’s the hurry?” Leo said, still riding the euphoric high of kissing Usagi, unaware of the wrath he had just incurred.

“Move, I’m gay!” Cassandra had no time for this, shoving past and finally arriving at her destination, leaving the lesser gays in the dust. 

“A simple ‘scuse me would’ve sufficed, y’know?” O’Neil began, a shadow of a smile on her lips as Cass dusted herself off. 

“Oh, um, salutations, April! Uhhh,” she said, spotting a sunflower on the ground that had escaped the bouquet. Stealthily, Cass picked it up and shook it to rid it of dirt, creating a bend at the neck.

“This is for you!” The flower drooped as it was handed to April, a botanical victim of the dance floor. 

“Aww, you shouldn’t have!” Only Cass would find a flower on the ground and think of you. I’m not sure if that’s sweet or weird. 

“I shouldn’t-? Oh, never mind, it’s an expression,” Cassandra mumbled. “May I ask you a question?”

“Yeah, of course.” 

Casey Sr extended a hand forward. “May I have this dance?” 

Without hesitation, April took Cass’s hand in hers. “I’d love to dance with you.”

—

As the couple descended upon the dance floor, Donnie and Casey Jr stood in the back, the purple turtle adding a new song to the playlist.

“Are you sure this is the right song?” Dee asked Jones, scanning through the lyrics and remix variations. 

“That’s it. We didn’t get much new music so we had to rely on relics, and then the CD player got stuck one day so this song played over and over again. According to Master Leonardo, this is their song, since they were the only ones that made the most of it.” 

“I’ll take your word for it.” 

Banjo music began to play, the time traveler tilting his head in curiosity. This didn’t seem quite right, but he had never heard the song before, opting to shrug his shoulders. 

If it hadn’t been for Cotton Eye Joe

I’d be married a long time ago

Where did you come from?

Where did you go?

Where did you come from, Cotton Eye Joe?

The two surveyed the dance floor, looking to see if the couple were enjoying their song. 

Nope.

April seemed confused, saying something about how her middle school dances were coming back to haunt her. Cassandra was signing aggressively at the soft-shell, with her exact words being: ‘I will flay you alive.’

“I don’t feel like being murdered, so I’m switching to Plan B. Sorry, Case.” Donnie changed the music as he patted Jones on the shoulder with a metal claw. 

“It’s alright, I get it. It’s just, I could’ve sworn that’s the song Master Leo named when he told me the story.” Casey Jr’s eyes were downcast toward the floor, embarrassed.

“Leo’s also the kind of guy to play a terrible song on repeat for a joke and not tell anyone it was him. He’s lucky he got a love story out of that.” Dee glanced up to see Jones dig his fingernails into the material of his suit.

“However, considering it was the apocalypse, it is just as likely that the CD player got stuck on that and your mothers fell in love dancing to it. Either way, they’re in love now. You don’t have anything to worry about, Casey. I promise.”

Casey Jr let out a small sigh of relief. “Thank you, Mas-, Donnie. I needed that.”

“Anytime, Jones.”

—

The banjo monstrosity was swiftly shut off, soon replaced by something far newer, far nicer. 

We could be a pretty little mess (oh)

Looking like we couldn't care less, baby

We could be, it could be fun

We could be, we could be dumb

“Looks like they fixed the music. How’s ‘bout we dance before they change it again?” April held Cassandra’s hand in hers, a soft smile on her lips.

“Oh, um, yes! Absolutely!” Cass placed her free hand on April’s shoulder, and the two began to move slowly to the music.

Ooh, la, la-la-la, la-la-la

I love you, baby

Ooh, la, la-la-la, la-la

“Y’know,” O’Neil said as they moved to the beat, twirling in circles with Cass, “I feel awful about letting Darby and Warren down. Gave ‘em the April O’Neil guarantee nothing would go wrong and everything.”

“You never could’ve foreseen Raphael and Junior crashing the wedding. I definitely hadn’t. Given the massive wall of secrets being kept on all sides, it is quite marvelous that more didn’t go wrong. You have nothing to be ashamed of, I swear it,” Casey Sr said, reassuring her partner before spinning her. 

We could be together, baby, you and me

Oh, I like you tickling my dancing feet

Spinning 'round and 'round, the ceiling's coming down

Go around, we could do it all night

“Thanks, Cass. I- is it just me or is part of the tent collapsing?” 

O’Neil pointed to a corner of the tent that began to sag into the trellis below it. Without a word, Mikey and Raph ran past her with duct tape, the box turtle riding on the snapper’s shoulders. 

“I believe they’ve got it handled.” Cassandra had taken the turtles aside earlier and told them that if anything went wrong during her dance with April they needed to fix it. Turns out Mikey is easy to bribe, and Raphael went along with it to make up for the wedding disaster. 

I love it how we hate the same things (oh)

But you could be my karaoke queen, baby

Wickedly, wickedly fun

We could be, we could be dumb

As they continued to dance, April turned the tables on Casey Sr, dipping her and going down with her, with April barely standing as Cassandra’s head was a few inches from the ground. Now, face to face, O’Neil could feel Cass’s heart pounding, leaving both rather flustered. 

Of course, the two of them froze, not great when one of the two is hovering above the ground in a tango-esque embrace. 

Cassandra Jones was magnificent at acting before she thought, both hands reaching up and grabbing April’s dress collar, and going in for the kiss. Thankfully, O’Neil had the same idea and leaned in, the two of them tumbling to the floor. 

Ooh, la, la-la-la, la-la-la

Don't kill me, baby

Ooh, la, la-la-la, la-la-la

I love you, baby

Ooh, la, la-la-la, la-la-la

I love you, baby

Ooh, la, la-la-la, la-la

“Our,” Cass said, nose bleeding from where she and April banged heads, “technique needs work.”

“Ya think?” April laughed, making an attempt at getting back up only to fall over again. 

“I always pictured my first kiss being more… coordinated. But I’m glad it was like this, with you.” Cassandra blushed as she lifted April off the ground, the two now up on their feet as they moved over to the seats of the venue. 

“I’m glad mine was with you, too.” April pulled some tissues and two cans of soda off the snack table, passing the napkins along to Casey Sr as she wiped the blood off her face. 

They sat back for a moment, their chairs pulled away from the tent, a serene view of the stars. The sky above was clear that night and shone like a tapestry of diamonds. It was easy to get lost in the constellations, wishing on burnt-out rocks millions of light years away. 

A silver moon hung low, the lighting perfect for the couple to take another stab at a proper kiss. They had the time, five minutes at least, until the story toasting started. 

When there was a rustle just outside the venue, they promptly ignored it.

—

Baron Draxum prowled outside the wedding venue, taking note of the cracked sidewalk and busted gate. It was worse than he thought. 

After hours of searching for the wedding (and traumatizing plenty of other newlyweds in the process), the baron had finally made it to Brooklyn. 

He peeked over a cracked wall. There were no sounds of struggle or anguish, only laughter and merriment from a myriad of voices, some of which he recognized to be his own children. 

So they worked things out. Of course, he was right, he often is. Still, she did this knowing what might happen had they been a touch less sensible. She delighted in it. Unforgivable. How could he defend her? Want to still be with her? Be without me?

The caprid was pulled from his thoughts by a hand on his back, the familiar claws keeping him from spin-kicking them into Jersey. 

“We’re taking a break, Big Mama and I.”

Draxum turned to face Splinter, the rat man having had followed him through the shadows for the past twenty blocks. 

“I doubt she’s taking that well,” Barry said, reading his husband’s expression before deciding not to laugh. 

“You’re right, just as you were right about how little she values our boys. I was a fool for a very long time, but you opened my eyes to the truth as you left. I am sorry for not realizing sooner.” 

Draxum sighed as he said, “I forgive you.”

“Wonderful! Now, are our boys okay? I can see the damage from here.” Splinter inhaled sharply as he glanced at the broken brick wall and fucked up sidewalk.

“I believe this is the extent. They appear to have mended things. You were right, too.” 

The baron reached a hand out to the rat, of whom took it graciously. The couple began to walk away.

“Let’s go home. If they wish to tell us about this, they can do so later.”

“Of course.”

***

Story Time and Gift Exchange

The time had come for all guests to gather ‘round and clink drinks as those close to the new husbands made speeches and toasted to their good fortune. In this particular instance, it wouldn’t work quite like that, with many of the guests having already left shortly after the ceremony once Raph burst through Kool-Aid Man style. Instead, it would be more like telling stories at a small party - drinks included. 

Raphael and Mikey walked into the story circle, their other siblings and their dates already there. Darby and Warren were starting with sharing stories about, well, Donnie. He was the first Hamato they’d befriended, so it’d only make sense to mention such a special friend in their toasts. Well, that was until they actually heard what was being said. 

“I remember a conversation we had a while back. Donnie told me he wanted to be fearless. I told him to be completely fearless is an impossibility, unless he was willing to significantly damage or remove his frontal lobe. He said ‘wanna bet?’ and pulled out a scalpel,” Hypno said, taking a long sip of his drink to cap things off. 

The snapper and box turtle exchanged looks, looks that said ‘yeah, that sounds like Donnie, alright.’

“I’m grateful for him, for all that he does. Without him, the music for today simply wouldn’t have happened. A toast to Donatello!” 

Several glasses and metal cans flew through the air, colliding with their neighboring drinking vessel as droplets of soda and alcohol splashed the ground. 

“I’ll go next!” Warren shouted, eager to share a story of his own.

“About two years ago, April and I had teamed up to take down my evil doppelganger, Warren 2. Terrible name, I know, but that’s beside the point. He was remarkably competent, but no match for April as she took him down with her crane license (and a crane we totally didn’t steal from a city construction site.) I owe her my life, not for murdering my clone, but for helping make Darby and I’s dream wedding come true. A toast to April!”

Drinks flew through the air yet again, and everyone began to get into the swing of things. A tiger yokai went next, toasting to Hypno’s poetry and how it changed their life. Then came a snail mutant who had related to Warren’s struggle of being mutated into a small bug with mobility challenges, toasting to the worm. 

Stories ping-ponged around the circle, with plenty being spoken by guests, and a few said by the turtles (of adventures and exploits earlier shared), all ending in drinks and merriment. 

Donnie had spoken too, turning on his noise-canceling headphones before the cheering kicked up. The soft-shelled turtle had shelved his best man speech, opting to print it and physically hand it to the couple at a later date. 

Speaking of physically handing things to people, it was gift time! 

By that point, all who remained were the turtles, the Caseys, April, and Yuichi, along with Darby and Warren (obviously). It was getting late, specifically eleven at night in eastern standard time, which meant it was five in the afternoon (of the next day) in New Zealand. The couple’s hotel check-in was for six, and Leo had to make sure the portal would actually open up to their honeymoon destination. So with roughly fifty minutes before the two had to leave, they would speedily open what was a small mountain of gifts.

There were, of course, the gifts Mikey and Donnie left earlier. Donatello in particular had something additional to say for one gift: the cloaking brooches.

“I had to try these out before wrapping them, and I must say, my findings were astounding.” Donnie started, resisting the urge to break out his notes.  

“They assign a human form if the wearer didn’t previously have one, and turn yokai and mutant prosthetics into their human equivalent. And despite my name, as it turns out, not Italian.” 

“I’m not surprised about that last bit, for some reason. But thank you, this is quite the find! These’ll come in handy on our honeymoon. Every gift you’ve given us is absolutely wonderful,” Hypno said, attaching his brooch to his lapel without activating it. Warren did the same.

Dee smiled as the two moved on. 

Casey Sr gave them both hunting knives, of which were placed far away for ‘safekeeping’. April had given Warren a year-round pass to the local monster truck rally, and Hypno a Sephora gift card. Then came Leo.

He had approached the hippo first, holding out his gift as he said:

“Hey, Darby, I know the whole ‘necromancy to resurrect Doug’ plan didn’t pan out, so…” The blue turtle handed the magician a sheet of paper. 

Written upon it were the finalized details of a memorial in the Central Park zoo, a fully realized and bronze-cast hippo statue in Doug’s likeness pictured as well. It was stated to have a plaque explaining the dedication, as well as details of the beloved pet’s life as a magical assistant. 

Hypno didn’t speak, wrapping his arms tight around Leo, the heaves of his chest, tears slicking down his face, and whispers of gratitude more than enough. 

“When it’s finished, I’ll take you there, okay?” Leonardo said as Darby nodded and wiped his eyes.

“I’d love that.”

“Now for Warren!” Leo turned to his worm uncle, April in tow as they both had collaborated on this particular gift.

Once the worm saw the effect Leon had on Hypno with his present, well, it was easy to be scared of what emotional high or low the blue turtle and April had set up for him. 

“It took us a while, but we managed to finally put together a scrapbook for ya!” O’Neil said, presenting the book with Leo to Stone.

It was titled ‘Warren Stone’s Greatest Moments: A Brilliant Collection’. Inside were pages upon pages of photos documenting his career, how he made history for being the first openly queer newscaster in NYC circa the early 2000s, pics of him scavenged from some ancient website of him in his bartending days, and at least two pages of all the jokes he and Leo had worked on together between magic lessons with Darby. He hadn’t forgotten them like he said he would, and now they were immortalized forever! 

It took a lot to make the anchorman cry, Warren tearing up as he flipped through the scrapbook, trying not to let too much gratitude out. 

“I, I don’t even know what to say. You managed to only use pictures of my good side. I love it! Thank you!” 

“Of course, we’re glad you like it.” 

Next up were Casey Jr and Yuichi, both of whom had never been to a wedding and had no clue that they should’ve brought gifts. The two faded to the background, hoping to not be seen or acknowledged. 

Lastly was Raphael. 

He hadn’t brought a gift either, forgetting a crucial piece of info from Jupiter Jim and The Wedding of Sector Seven. So the snapper searched his pockets before grasping at a card. He sighed, not wanting to part with something so special, but toughed it out for the sake of friendship. 

“This is for you.” Raph handed Warren and Hypno the card from his pocket.

It was one of those build-a-teddy bear store punch cards, the kind that was a stamp away from granting its possessor a free bear. The red turtle had been saving up his stamps for a long time, waiting months to pick out his free teddy bear that came with an accessory of his choosing. But it’d be better this way. 

Darby took the card and looked it over, glancing up to see Raphael trying his best to seem happy. 

“I’ve got an idea. Why don’t you hold onto this and we all go together, after Warren and I return from our trip?”

The snapper’s eye lit up. “Really? That’s so nice of you! Thank you!” 

“Anytime, Raphael.”

—

“It’s 11:54, Leo.” 

The slider had been trying and failing to reach New Zealand for ten minutes. The couple had managed to gather their bags in that time as they waited by where the portal would be. 

“I’m trying to focus, Donnie,” the blue turtle retorted, frustrated by the failure of his ability. 

He accidentally opened a portal to his uncle’s home twice, six portals to his own home, three portals to Run of the Mill with Heuso only growing more annoyed and confused by the second, and at least one portal to Australia. Not quite there. 

“Do you at least know the address? This happened last time you didn’t know where you were going.” Donnie pulled out his phone and began to look up the hotel.

“Of course, I know where it is! It’s…it… okay fine, where is it?” Leo conceded, reading the address off Dee’s phone before trying again. 

Leonardo swung his odachi in a smooth, circular motion. Blue light flashed from the newly opened portal, fading away to reveal:

“That’s the spot!” Darby and Warren jumped up, carrying their bags and running to make it to the portal before it closed.

“Happy honeymoon!” Shouted everyone as the two went through, waving goodbye.

On the other side of the portal, Hypno and Warren activated their cloaking brooches, taking a long look at their new surroundings. 

In awe and delight, taking new steps in his home country for the first time in many years, Darby couldn’t help but smile.

“Kia ora, Aotearoa.”  

Chapter Text

As their feet touched the ground in front of their hotel, the couple couldn’t help but stare. It was exceptionally pretty, grey slate stones covering the front of the hotel as a bountiful array of flowers in colors spanning bright reds to deep purples took residence at the entrance. A late spring breeze swept through the air, summer just on the horizon.  

Certainly one of the nicer hotels they’d stayed at, beating out the shitty motels in the city for when they were between apartments. The doors even seemed to be fully automatic, swinging open to let the two of them in, glass perfectly polished without a hint of cracking or bullet holes. Good gods, they’d been in America for too long. 

Hypno felt his anxiety spike as he took a few steps inside, eyes down to the floor. Warren was doing the same, neither looking at the other, fearful of the negative reception they were likely to face at check-in.

It wasn’t til they got to the front counter and were greeted with fond fake smiles rather than the typical gawking of NYC did they realize that their cloaking brooches were actually working. Why wouldn’t they? Donnie tested them, and looking down to see a set of human hands rather than hippo or worm should’ve cemented the fact. Still, the shift to be seen as people again threw them both for a loop. 

“Kia ora! Checking-in?” An older gentleman greeted from the front desk, a touch confused as he looked the quiet couple over, taking note of their wedding attire and overstuffed suitcases. Then it clicked.

“Long flight, am I right?” The second time the man spoke was when Hypno made the decision to finally look up. The weary look in his eyes was barely faked, leaning into how tired he really was to come across as simply that. 

“Oh definitely, just flew in from New York. Finally tied the knot and jumped on the plane immediately after,” Darby said, pulling out the paper confirming their reservation that Leo had gotten a week prior. “We’ve booked the Honeymoon Suite, reservation under Darby Pewhairangi.”

A click and clatter of keys commenced, the magician simply handing the reservation paper over in advance to avoid having to spell his last name aloud. 

The clerk looked up from his computer with a smile, handing over the keys to their room. “Hope you have a lovely stay, Mr. Pewhairangi! Always lovely to see a kiwi return home. Congratulations on your marriage, we’ve made up the room accordingly.” 

“Thank you very much.” Hypno smiled politely as he took the keys, turning to where Warren was standing, trying his damndest not to jump when a lanky blond man with the same signature pompadour was preening in the closest mirror - a tiny decorative thing above a flowerpot - locking eyes with his reflection in a way akin to Narcissus. 

“Warren?” Darby called out tentatively, knowing on some level that it was his beloved worm wearing his brooch, yet it never quite clicked in his mind that Warren would be the taller one when human. He’d seen photos of the defunct news anchor in his human form before, but the sense of scale doesn’t exactly carry over from photos alone. 

Stone jumped, startled out of his ‘staring contest’ with himself, eyes pulled away to then settle on his husband. 

“Woah, you’re beautiful.” It came out as a whisper. There was only one person in the room Warren was fully interested in staring at, besides himself, and it was Darby. And to see him human, human in a way beyond illustrated posters and old show recordings, standing before him as the magician’s hair stuck up in places, covered in glitter, and the man was still radiant, charming. Oh Warren, he couldn’t stop staring. 

Hypno held his partner’s hand, gently pulling the not-worm along to the elevator. Externally, Warren walked along, dragging his luggage with one hand as the other stayed warm in the not-hippo’s embrace. Internally, however, Stone was kicking himself for not meeting Hypno sooner. Why date grimy newscasters and strange celebrities when a perfectly good magician was right under his nose the entire time? Did it really take being a worm to make this happen? And if so, well, maybe it wasn’t so bad after all. 

The elevator doors opened with a sharp ting , the couple shuffling out and down the hallway to their room. 

Upon opening the door, the two were greeted warmly with a cliché littering of rose petals on the floor and around the bed, a fine assortment of chocolates (all Whittaker), and an ice bucket with champagne prominently displayed on the desk. And as lovely as it was, neither man could appreciate it, sleepiness taking hold with each passing second. 

Darby rummaged through his luggage for nightwear as Warren drew back the curtains and glanced to see the world below. Stone had been on islands before, but this was special, it was all the stories he’d been told, everything and nothing like he imagined. So the anchorman would continue looking on in tired awe, taking these moments in private so he could keep his eyes to the ground out in public, not wishing to be seen as a tourist and robbed. 

In the bathroom, a far different sight was being taken in.

Hypno took a good long look at his reflection in the full-length mirror before him. It was a…disorienting experience. 

To seem human again, now that was quite an oddity. The face in the mirror was one he had made peace with leaving behind a long time ago, fully convinced he’d never see it again. It was pleasant enough, and with the way Warren was ogglying him, Darby could only assume that this was good. Mounting that, the magician was home. Not home home , no that was New York, it was Warren. No, no, he was where he vowed to never return. Why come back? Well, the alternative was Canada in October as his husband had managed to run into trouble in every other part of the world (getting blackout drunk and picking fights as an international news anchor can do that, hence why he decided to stay local to further his career). And, for once, the magician would confront his past head-on. See his family? No, he had his own now. It’s difficult to not have some feelings for where you come from, but at least he’d have someone to face those feelings with. Plus it’d be fun to show Warren around and watch the (not for once) worm react to the sights, sounds, and free healthcare. 

With a sigh he shoved the thoughts away, a new problem arising. 

“Do you think we should leave these on? Knowing Donnie, they’re indestructible, but I still don’t know…” Hypno called out, trailing off as he pulled his pajama shirt over his head, two identical scars on his chest on full display for a moment before disappearing under the fabric. His cloaking brooch was clipped into his hair, a better alternative to clothing so it’d stay on. 

“I, oh boy, I’m gonna get back to you on that.”

As Warren undressed and redressed in the bedroom, he found himself busy making a startling discovery. With the cloaking brooch activated, upon removing his robotic height enhancement (new legs), he was simply legless. It was exactly what the purple turtle meant when he said all yokai and mutant prosthetics became their human equivalents when cloaked. 

Stone quickly deactivated his brooch, making sure he wasn’t wearing his aide before reactivating, his human legs back again, no prosthetics required. And, as if to compound the strangeness, these new human legs felt floaty, like literal phantom limbs. So Warren vowed to wear his prosthetics instead, just not to bed. Odd, so very odd. 

“Okay, that was absurd.” Warren shook off the experience. “I’d say leave it if you want, I’m gonna continue wearing mine. No real reason to take it off, right?” 

Hypno dragged himself out of the bathroom, shoving his crumpled wedding attire atop his suitcase. It’d be tomorrow’s problem.

“I suppose you’re right.” He shrugged his shoulders. “Probably gonna deactivate it in private but,” he yawned, “I’ll leave it for now.” 

Darby settled into bed in a bout of near exhaustion. Having spent the last day in Brooklyn getting married to suddenly being in New Zealand, it was quite the radical shift. The experience wasn’t quite jet lag due to the lack of jets, more so portal lag, a distant cousin to the portal chop. When the magician flopped face-first into the comforter of their king-sized bed, the anchorman simply nodded, fully ready to follow his husband’s lead. And so he did. 

—

The next morning started at roughly three, the whole timezone thing not quite clicking until the two woke up ready to start their day while the rest of the north island was still sleeping. So rather than waste their waking hours in waiting and waiting alone, they promptly curled back up in a warm embrace, forcing themselves back to sleep.

Warren woke up first. It was seven, a far more reasonable time for one to wake up. He wiggled his way out of bed, shoving a pillow between Darby’s arms to escape. 

After getting fresh clothes onto his still human body, Stone snuck downstairs and grabbed breakfast, carrying up a tray for both him and Hypno. And it was in doing this that he noticed something. 

His powers were still active. 

No one paid him any mind at all, not an eye batted as he filled two plates from the buffet (it was a more Americanized setup to appeal to tourists), and purloined a tray from the dining area. It was as if he were completely invisible, his presence only meaningful when accompanied by his husband. 

Warren took this information and squirreled it away, completely ready to take advantage of the fact and use his human form to commit crimes without repercussion. If he could help it, the cloaking brooch would never come off. 

Riding the elevator back up, the quiet hum of soft music playing over speakers as he made his way down the carpeted hall, Warren gently pulled the door to their room open. Still sleeping lay Hypno, wrapped in blankets stolen from both sides of the bed. Sunlight began to stream in from the crack between the curtains, slowly rousing the magician to wakefulness. 

Darby begrudgingly opened his eyes, stuck somewhere between drowsy dreams and the land of the barely conscious, pawing around for his glasses. In front of him stood Stone, the blond smiling eagerly as he pointed at the breakfast assortment he managed to bring up. 

The chocolate and champagne display from earlier had been shoved to one side, a tray placed firmly in the table’s center. On it sat plenty of food, namely: fried eggs on sourdough toast, boysenberry granola with coconut yogurt, smoked salmon, crispy bacon, and roasted potatoes coated in assorted garden herbs and garlic-infused olive oil. Next to the food sat two tea cups, the in-room kettle beginning to whistle. 

It was as if he had woken up in a movie, the picturesque fantasy lingering between kettle whistles and wafts of steam. A firm pinch confirmed that, yes, it was real. 

Rather than put in his contact lenses first, the magician walked himself over to the desk, pulling a chair up next to Warren. The growling in his stomach served as the stark reminder that he hadn’t eaten since… he hadn’t eaten. The wedding made him too nervous to eat, and what was available at the snack table didn’t count as filling. So to wake up to a full spread of all his favorite things, well, he thought he couldn’t find more reasons to love the worm. 

“I hope everything’s good. Wanted to surprise you when you woke up.” Warren twirled a lock of hair between his fingers, like a giddy teenager with a crush, before looking over at Hypno.

The toast? Gone. Bacon? Also gone. The potatoes were facing an extinction event and the granola was following suit. Stone had his own dish, no worries there, but to see his husband go semi-feral for smoked salmon, kinda terrified him. He then remembered that neither had eaten in twenty-four hours, opting to dig into his breakfast and keep any comments to himself.

Breakfast concluded within nine minutes. 

Darby managed to utter a few words for the first time that morning. “Thank you so much, darling. You know me far too well, was a brush away from killing a man.” 

“Oh, um, of course!” Warren replied, stacking their empty plates back on the tray. 

The magician got up and yanked an outfit from his suitcase and a towel from the closet. “I’ll be out in a few. I’m so excited to show you Tairāwhiti.” 

—

Warren spent the next twenty minutes googling the area like his life depended on it. Darby called it Tairāwhiti, and the internet called it Gisborne - an English name given by English settlers.

Tairāwhiti meant ‘where the sun shines’, and it was a well-deserved name. The world outside their hotel suite was so bright, it was nearly blinding. Birds the news anchor had only seen in pet stores perched freely in tall palms, nesting in their natural habit. They were a colorful bunch, mainly green, with the occasional fancy pigeon cooing on the balcony. Speaking of birds, Warren had also learned that kiwi could mean one of three things: the fruit, the people of New Zealand, and orb-shaped, flightless birds that came in two varieties. Stone was glad to not have been born there, as being called a literal fruit would’ve taken things over the edge. 

The not-worm was elbow deep in local theatre research when Hypno got out of the bathroom, snappily dressed (sky blue button-up, dark denim jeans, and off-white sneakers) with eye make-up to boot, his hair braided with his brooch clipped in to hold it back. He wore a sheepish smile as well, trying not to draw too much attention to what was behind him. 

“Hey, babe…” 

Warren dropped everything and looked up. Darby never called him ‘babe’ unless there was a problem. “Is everything good? Okay, so you’re shaking your head ‘no’ which makes me think something happened.”

“You could say that.” The magician beckoned Stone over to where he stood, the two walking into the bathroom.

The bathtub was a tad cracked around the edges, the tiled wall that surrounded said tub also cracking in spots. The marble floor? Cracked to hell and back. Can’t forget the edge of the porcelain sink that had cracks in the shape of grip marks, as if someone had fallen and reached for support. 

“Had a bit of a cloaking brooch mishap,” Hypno recounted. “Damn thing fell out of my hair in the shower, forgot I had it in. Screamed ‘fuck’ at the top of my lungs as I transformed back, slipping and falling. Beyond me how you didn’t hear anything.” 

“Heh, yeah. Ain’t that wild…” Warren had heard it, from the scream to the crash, but choose to ignore it in the assumption that it were happening to someone else a room over. “Are you okay? Any cuts or bruises? I swear, I’ll fight this entire bathroom for you.”

Darby chuckled. “I think the bathroom’s been through quite enough as is, darling. I’m alright. Say, are you ready to go?” 

“Oh, definitely!” Stone quickly pulled his shoes on before scrambling to open the door for his partner, the two exiting into the grand world that awaited outside.

—

First stop was the War Memorial theatre, a grand building built up in a tall array of glass windows and steel pillars. The interior was bathed in cream tones, a field of poppies vaulted to the ceiling. It was sleek and modern and new , a far cry from the dance hall turned theatre Hypno spent his youth sneaking into. Any and all familiar aspects had changed in ways, from dramatic to subtle. It became a fun game pointing every little detail out to Warren, of whom was paying the most amount of attention that he ever had in his entire life. 

“And this,” Darby pointed out as they walked in, “is where my brothers and I would run up once the lights went dim.” He waltzed up a small staircase to the right of the entrance, waving to the person at the front desk further down the hall. 

Up the stairs lay the second floor, two leather couches with a fine window view empty as daylight streamed in. Above the couches was a sign listing lifelong members and sponsors for the theatre. Before, long before in the distant year of 2004, the floor had been arranged differently - completely differently. All that remained from that time were the windows, yet even they had likely been replaced. 

“So you wanna sneak into a theatre, an empty theatre that will remain empty until Saturday, for old times sake?” Warren asked, swiping a pamphlet for future shows out of a holder. 

Hypno nodded, leaning on the door for seat rows 1-10. 

“Well, count me in.” Stone shoved the playbill in his jean pocket, walking up to the door as his husband pushed it open. 

Inside was a long and elegant, elevated stage within all black walls. It was at the very bottom of a massive stairway, each set of steps accompanied by a row of bright orange seats - splitting into two areas: the top area accessible on the second floor and the bottom by the stage. 

“Follow me, I have something to show you.” Darby then began to jump seats in a way that almost made it seem like he weren’t a near forty year old man. 

“You’re going to ruin your back. I’m taking the stairs,” Stone grumbled, clinging to the banister as he descended the steps. He hadn’t had to use stairs in a while. 

“Alright, coward,” the magician huffed with a smile, halfway down the rows. He had to admit, this was killing his spine and hips and pretty much every bone in his body. As a hippo mutant, the pain of aging never really got to him, but to be human again (if only temporary) really had him feeling like he were on the verge of dying. He wasn’t, not in any capacity he wasn't acutely aware of, but oh gods did everything hurt. 

“I guess only cowards pack Advil. See ya downstairs.” Warren grinned, winking evilly as he passed by, catching Darby cringing as he jumped another row of chairs.

“Wait,” Hypno started, shuffling past the chairs and over to the stairwell. “You wouldn’t happen to have any on you at the moment?” 

Stone reached into his other pocket and grabbed at a baggy filled with loose Advil gel pills. He poured two out and handed them to his partner. “You’re lucky that I’m still used to being ripped in half constantly.”

“Thank you, darling.” Darby threw the painkillers back, followed by a swig of water from a small bottle kept in his side bag. “You aren’t a coward, in fact, you’re the smart one. Today, at least.”

“Why thank y-, hey!” Warren called out, watching as Hypno skipped down the stairs giggling before abruptly stopping ten steps from the bottom. 

“This is it!” The magician knocked on the wall in a repeated pattern of double taps, the whole process taking fifteen seconds to complete before the wall split open to reveal a passageway. “Thought they would’ve binned it in the renovation, but you just can’t get rid of a good secret room.”

He beckoned Warren forward, the two wandering in through the darkness before reaching what looked to be a dressing room. It was long since abandoned, sat decaying in repose. If it were truly still in use, well, only ghosts were occupying the area now. A thick layer of dust coated the massive mirror, the lights lining it flickering on and off. In the grime were written three names and a date: Manaaki, Kauri, and Darby - 2004. Beyond that, in an unremarkable chair, was something exceptionally new. A letter. 

“What is this place?” Stone asked, looking around trying to seem impressed. It looks like a hell hole. 

“It’s not the prettiest, but it used to be a dressing room. My brothers and I snuck in here when we were little, and it served as a hideout before shows started. Haven’t been back since we signed our names on the mirror. It’s painfully obvious that I picked my own, but I digress.”

Hypno’s eye caught the letter. It was addressed to him. He quickly snatched it up and tucked it away for safekeeping. The handwriting was oh too familiar, a taunt from the past. He’d open it later, long after this day was over, far from where it could hurt him. 

“I’m gonna guess it was better back then. It’s been like, what, eighteen years since you were here? If anyone’s been enjoying this place, it’s the moths.” Warren batted a lesser butterfly away, testing a chair with his foot to see if it were safe to sit in. It promptly collapsed in a heap of chair legs and dust. 

“Yeah, pretty much. Nothing’s changed, surprisingly. I don’t know why I thought it’d be any different. Now,” Darby approached the mirror, “it’s tradition to write your name and the year before you go. Wanna go first?” 

“Well, first things first. You got any hand sanitizer?” Stone’s eyes skimmed over the dusty muck skeptically. 

“There’s a bathroom downstairs.” A glint of a smile graced Hypno’s face as Warren got closer, the news anchor’s finger tentatively approaching the grime-covered mirror. 

“Agh, fine.” In a swift motion, Stone had added his name in script, a fanciful signature for a self-important guy. Next to that was scribbled the date. 

“Was that so horrible?” Darby asked, adding his own name. His fingertip was stained black with dust, matching his husband. 

Warren narrowed his eyes. “I’m pretty sure that’s black mold and not dust but….”

“Yeah?”

“At least if anyone were to stumble across this place in the future, they’d learn of me, the lustrous Warren Stone!”

“Glad to see you making a name for yourself everywhere you go.” Hypno stifled another chuckle, leading Stone by the hand as the two exited the passage. 

—

The bathroom was exceptionally empty and clean, pristine stalls with doors that didn’t have a hint of peeping space guarding each toilet and bidet. A line of sparkling white sinks were in the process of being dirtied by two idiots that decided to touch dirt. 

“So, did you ever want to perform here?” Warren scrubbed at his skin with extra soap even though his hands were clean two rinses ago.

“Oh, darling, I have.” The magician dried his hands, leaning back on the wall. 

Stone perked up, shaking water off and reaching for a towel himself, intrigued. “Well, now you’ve got to tell me about it.”

Darby shrugged. “I mean, it isn’t exactly a long story. You know that I used to write plays. This was back when I tried writing and performing them. Mum wasn’t thrilled, but she never turned down a money-making opportunity so I was booked to perform. Went about as decent as you’d expect.”

“Is that all there is or…” Warren began, looking his partner over only to see Hypno tense up at the follow-up question. “Y’know what, nevermind. I’ll take your word for it.” 

“Thanks. Wanna get out of here? There’ll be a show later this week if you'd like to check it out.” 

“Yeah, sounds great. Where to next?”

“Lunch.”

—

Lunch was a relatively calm affair. The couple had walked off toward a place that seemed the right level of nice and was rather close to their hotel, a quaint cafe called Flagship Eatery. Darby hadn’t ever been there before, and if he had, he simply didn’t remember. 

The menu consisted of plates ranging from steamed bao buns filled with pork belly to bagels with cream cheese and lox. They ordered accordingly, not a word uttered between the two, meals being a sacred quiet time. It was difficult to speak with a mouthful of food anyway, that and the fact that their bodies were convinced it was five in the afternoon of the previous day, leaning into the portal lag they both felt. 

Once the bill was paid, the two began to speak once more, walking at an idle pace toward the beach.

“Do you think we should stop in some shops? Y’know, buy a few souvenirs?” Darby asked, eyes wandering to the various antique and boutique stores in the area. He remembered Donnie saying something about uranium glass and Garfield mugs that put out dangerous amounts of radiation. Perhaps there’d be something like that here?

“What for? We’ve got another week and a half. Unless you see something you like now, then sure.” Warren replied, not particularly drawn to any storefront. But if it mattered to Hypno then it, tangentially, mattered to him. And there was a book in a shop window called ‘102 Terrible One-Liners’ that immediately reminded him of Leo, so stopping to shop couldn’t be too bad. 

“I suppose it could wait. Was thinking of our kids…” Darby froze as the words left his mouth. 

“Woah, woah, woah! Not ours!” Stone started, wide-eyed. “We are uncles. Uncles. So unless something unfortunate happens to our worst boss, his rat husband, and their mafioso hook-up, we will never be dads.”

A short silence ensued, followed up by:

“But, uh, yeah. I was thinking about them, too.”

The magician moved out of the footpath, taking a seat on a nearby bench. Warren followed.

“Do you think we’d be good parents?” Darby broke the quiet, eyes downcast. His fingers thumbed the letter in his breast pocket.

“I mean, we practically have eight ki-” Stone was taken off guard, his reply more of a mumble.

“They’re grown, Warren. You know what I mean.” 

“I- I don’t know. Never really considered it.” He shrugged. “I like being an uncle, having company around that isn’t just the two of us. Growing up, people like me, like us … having kids wasn’t exactly an option. But now I’m here, and I have you, and it’s complicated.” 

“I’m sorry for bringing up the topic…” Hypno picked at the buttons on his jacket.

“But, let me put it this way. You would be an amazing father. In some ways you already are.” Stone pulled out his phone and scrolled through thousands of photos of them with the turtles. “I doubt that Donnie’s ever gonna forgive himself for calling you ‘dad’ once. So believe me when I say that you’re good enough.” 

Hypno rested his head on his husband’s shoulder, a smile beginning to form. “Why are you so good to me?” 

Warren nudged him with his elbow. “I could ask you the same thing.” 

“I feel a tad guilty for springing this new insecurity on you out of nowhere. Being here has brought plenty of memories to the surface, good and bad, but that’s the one thing I can’t escape.” 

“We can leave if you want. I can call Leo and we could go home now.” 

“No, no, I think I’ll be fine. After all, I have the lustrous Warren Stone by my side.” Darby craned his neck up and kissed Warren’s cheek.

“Love you, too. Wanna get stuff for our kids?” Stone held out his hand and the two got up, scanning the area for open shops that carried decent items.

“I’d like that. Let me know if you see a radioactive Garfield mug - Donatello requested it.”

“Of course he did.”

—

Ditching their haul of strange collectibles and uranium-infused hazards in their room, the two prepared themselves for the beach.

It was three in the afternoon there, which meant it was nine at home. Trying to keep the feeling of tiredness at bay was a fool’s errand, and Warren soon realized that if they planned to see a live show at seven later that week that he would promptly die. Hypno was the night owl, thriving in darkness, a passionate lover of the midnight hour. Typically he’d be fine, but it’d been eighteen odd years since he’d been in Aotearoa and he was not adapting as quickly as he wanted to. So both he and Warren yawned on their way to Waikanae Beach, feeling rather ancient. 

They were the only ones on the beach, dragging seats to the midway point between sand and sea. Out on the shimmering blue waves kilometers away lay a rocky outcrop, boats big and small passing each other by. The sun may have been shining and yet barely any heat followed, one of the cooler days of spring at 10C (that’s 50F for Americans). So the couple opted to stay covered up, the water far less inviting on a day so cold (and it’s not like the news anchor would swim anyway, the salt water threatening to murder his hair). Instead, they engaged in a game Warren recalled from his youth: competitive shell finding. 

Each person would look for seashells, collecting them in their pockets or a bucket, which would later be dumped out and counted to see who found the most. Bonus points were awarded for prettier shells, as subjective as that was. It was a game his parents made up to keep him from bothering them on vacation, transformed into a friendly competition between husbands. 

The first ten minutes were spent quietly, each one focusing to find the best shells, with Darby combing the rocky beach for scallop shells and repeatedly getting lucky as he found abalone instead. Warren, on the other hand, was dealt a rougher hand in the form of ocean pebbles and beach agate - beautiful finds - but not quite shells. It was when he decided to strike up a conversation did he finally find what he was after.

“What do you think would happen if I deactivated this brooch right now?” Warren asked, digging through a pile of new shells that had washed up, collecting his fill.

Hypno perked up, placing another shell in his bag. “Well, besides the screaming, you’d be carried off by a bird and I’d be heartbroken.”

“Oh but consider this - I reactivate the brooch in midair - hurdling back to Earth and into your arms. Birds can’t carry away a human man,” Warren said matter-of-factly, the clink of shells jingling in his pockets with each step.

“You’ve seen my doves. We’ve been carried home by birds before.”

“That doesn’t count since you were a hippo and I was a worm. I stand by my point.” 

“I still wouldn’t be so sure about that, especially here. With those Aotearian man carriers and whatnot. Nasty buggers, lost a cousin that way.”

“You’re lying.”

“Me, lying? Never.”

“I can tell when you lie. Your accent gets thicker.” Warren reached out for a conical shell jutting out of the sand. It was pretty, as pretty as a shell could be - orange tones with purple accent marks.

“First time I heard someone point out that tell. Fine, you’re right. The only ‘man carrier’ here is me.” Hypno swept Warren off his feet in one fell swoop, making the news anchor drop the shell he’d just grabbed. It was a live cone snail, one of the most deadly animals alive. No anti-venom as each one produced a unique poison, and the cure was laying down and waiting for death to take you. 

“Bringing me down to your level, huh? That’s new.” Stone’s attempt at being smooth was betrayed by his beet-red face, blushing as his view of the world changed in an instant, face to face with the love of his life. 

“I’ve never noticed until now, but you have the most gorgeous brown eyes.” Darby let the observation fly without a care in the world, keeping an eye on the cone snail to make sure it fled before letting his husband go. Knowing him he’d try to touch it again. 

“Is it hot in here or is it just you? I mean, fuck, I fucked that up.” The news anchor stammered for a second, trying to think of new ways to flirt that he couldn’t mess up upon delivery. 

Hypno giggled, watching as the cone snail finally left. He let Warren go, collapsing into a heap as the two fell into the sand below. 

“Wanna call it a draw? I’m about ready to call it a day,” Stone groaned, shells spilling out of his pockets and mixing with the sand. 

“Nah, I think you’ve won. But yes, I’d love to go.”

Warren got up first and helped Darby to his feet, the two dusting themselves off. It was a swift walk to their hotel, one that would’ve been even shorter had they been willing to hop over fences, but still.

—

One elevator ride later, they were back in their suite - of which had been cleaned. Everything was in proper order, bed made and dirty plates taken away. Then Hypno swung open the door to the bathroom. 

It certainly looked better than before, with the cracks filled in with spackle and once-liquid sealants that had since dried. A short note resided on the edge of the sink, saying that this was a fairly usual occurrence and to not worry. Apparently, they had renovated a few months prior and the materials were of a lower quality, leading to frequent cracks if enough pressure was applied. Real glad that loose end was tied up. 

“I think we may have taken on way too much today,” Darby stated, removing his sandy jacket and leaving his shoes at the door. His weary eyes spotted the in-room clock. It can’t possibly only be five-thirty. I feel far too tired for that to be the case. 

“Glad I wasn’t the only one thinking that.” Warren cracked his back, suppressing a yawn. “Having an amazing time so far, though. Thanks for showing me around.”

“Of course. It’s nice that you like this place, it is virtually unheard of so I was nervous. When I tell people I’m from New Zealand, they tend to assume Auckland or Wellington, not here. Never here. When I told you, you asked me what part of Australia that is,” Hypno laughed as he recalled the memory, taking a seat on the edge of the bed.

“At least I was close,” Warren smirked as he opened the bathroom door. “Gonna take a shower, be out soon.”

“The concepts of you showering and getting out soon are mutually exclusive. See you in two hours, but I doubt I’ll be awake.”

“Fair enough.”

—

Hypno awoke to Warren gently shaking him awake, the moon still high in the sky. The news anchor’s hair was down, barely dry from the shower. He’d style it later, the magician the only one allowed to see him like this. 

“Did you seriously just get out now?” Darby mumbled, reading the clock. The time was three in the morning. 

“Nah, got out hours ago. Woke up about thirty minutes ago and discovered a little spot just for us. We have to go,” Warren whispered excitedly, offering a hand to his husband in a bid to drag him out of bed. 

“Mm’kay. Just a sec.” Hypno wiped the sleep out of his eyes, swiping a hand around in his hair to make sure he was still wearing his brooch. As carefully as possible, he reclipped his hair, trapping the accessory in place without deactivating it. 

The magician shuffled out of bed and pulled on his shoes and jacket, not caring at all about his appearance as no one besides Warren would see him. He snatched a small gold foil box from the closet into his jacket pocket, using the power of sleight of hand so Warren wouldn’t see.

“Follow me!” Warren said in a barely contained shout, dragging Hypno out the door and toward the back way staircase. 

Out back lay a patio that had been partitioned off to keep guests from wandering in. A sign attached to the gating said not to enter as magpies tended to swoop at guests. Well, it was far too early for the devil birds to even think of waking up and Warren was feeling bold. The two shuffled into the patio area and looked out to the sea. 

“Is this what you wanted to show me? It’s lovely, a serene type of quiet.” Hypno rested his head against Warren’s chest as he watched the waves crash against the sand.

“But wait, there’s more!” The news anchor rummaged around in his pocket with one hand as the other stroked his partner’s hair.

“Oh really?” The magician yawned, fighting the urge to drift back to sleep; the comforting white noise of the ocean mixed with the safety of his husband’s heartbeat being an all too alluring siren song. 

“Dance with me.” Stone pulled out an iPod. It predated the turtles by five years, minimum. The fact that it turned on, let alone worked, was nothing short of a miracle. 

“I’d love to know how many songs you’ve got on that.” Darby grinned, watching as Warren worked the wheel mechanic to go through the menus. 

“Five…ish.” Warren made a ‘so-so’ sign with his hand. “How’s ‘bout if I hit shuffle and it’s something good, we’ll take it as a sign and dance?” 

Hypno considered it for a moment. “Sure, you’ve got yourself a deal.” 

“Yes!” And with that, Stone pressed ‘shuffle’. 

Several seconds of quiet passed, so many seconds in fact that they were both beginning to joke that the damn thing broke. Still, the light was on and the volume was up so they waited. A full minute later, something could be heard coming from the iPod. 

Let's dance

Put on your red shoes and dance the blues

Let's dance

To the song they're playin' on the radio

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Darby burst out laughing. “That’s so specific! And it’s Bowie, so I’m guessing you planned this.”

“Honey, I couldn’t have planned that even if I wanted to. So, breaking news, if anyone planned this it was the universe itself.” Warren smirked, his fingers crossed behind his back. 

“Suppose I’ll have to take your word for it.” Hypno offered a hand to his husband, the starlight reflecting off his dark eyes. “May I have this dance?” 

“Absolutely.”

Warren held Darby like a promise, one he’d do everything in his power to keep. They moved slowly to the beat of the song, each soft step bathed in the gentle light of the full moon. At a time so early in the morning, it almost felt like they were the only people in the world. It was bliss. 

Dancing in small circles, accidentally stepping on each other’s toes, murmurings between lovers in the form of gentle whispers of affection. It was kindness, a bewitching moment unable to be stolen. 

The song ended, another taking its place in rapid succession. 

“It’s nice, dancing with you without a ton of people looking at us. We can finally be gay in peace.” Warren caressed the magician's face with his hand, the two stopping their slow dance for a moment. 

“I get it. Having Donnie singing for us was delightful, but trying to stay focused on you and you alone while everyone else just stared was a touch uncomfortable. But now,” Hypno reached a hand up and gently tugged on Warren’s shirt collar, “I get to have you all to myself.” 

“Woah,” Stone felt his face burn, “in front of the magpies?” 

“Yeah, and if they have anything to say they can abraca-fuck off,” Darby smirked. “I’ve always wanted to make out with a bloke in the moonlight.” 

Warren’s response wasn’t in words, leaning in and kissing the magician, of whom had already pulled the news anchor closer. Hypno's fingers ran through Stone’s hair, his other hand round his husband’s waist, Warren having to bend down slightly as he was twenty centimeters taller. 

They stayed that way for a few moments until remembering their need for air. Warren broke away, panting as Hypno regarded him with a lazy grin.

“Newsflash: cloaking brooches are the best thing since sliced bread. Haven’t felt like that since… you make me feel… I love you.” 

The magician held Warren’s hand as the two took a moment to bask in each other's company. 

“I love you, too. I love you in ways I can never fully express in words. No matter what you look like, no matter who you happen to be, you’re perfect to me.” 

Darby caught a glimpse of Warren sneakily wiping his eyes as the news anchor croaked in a shaky breath:

“You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” 

Stone placed an arm around Hypno’s shoulder, trying and failing not to cry. The magician was one of the only people he had managed to completely drop his front with, the hardened plastic of a haughty persona coming off in cracks. It was difficult to heal while still wearing fragments of that mask, trying desperately to remember which parts of himself were real or fabrications to fit in. But no matter where he was in that struggle, Darby stayed with him throughout all of it. He had accepted the news anchor before the news anchor could accept himself, and for that the worm was grateful.

Hypno reached over and pat his partner's back, a comforting gesture as the hour changed from three to four, the waves rushing to meet the sandy banks many meters away. 

“Wanna hear something funny?” Darby offered.

“Hit me with it.” Stone smiled, rifling around for a tissue before his spouse offered a handkerchief.

“I just remembered that we didn’t have a wedding cake,” Hypno snickered. “How we managed to get that part wrong, I’ll never know.”

“Oh my god, you’re right.” Warren smacked his palm against his forehead. “That’s the main thing. No one cares about the ceremony, or the rings, or the two idiots that are madly in love. No, they want cake and we just forgot it. I’m actually impressed.” 

Darby walked away, laughter and wheezing erupting into the air with each step, and took a seat in one of the patio chairs. “It’s… oh gods, it really is a miracle that the wedding happened at all.”

“Well,” Stone said, taking a seat next to Hypno, “I don’t need a cake to be married to the most amazing  person in the world.” The light glinted off the sapphire stone embedded in his wedding band. The magician’s ring matched, a ruby inlaid in his. 

“That was so cheesy, come here.” 

Warren happily leaned over as Darby kissed him on the cheek.

“And before I forget,” Hypno rooted around in the pocket of his jacket, “this is for you.”

He passed the news anchor his prize in the form of the golden box, watching with eager eyes as Warren carefully tore off the wrapping. Popping the top off revealed:

“Is this silk?” Stone twirled the gift between his fingers, marveling at how soft the material felt. He unfolded it, a long scarf unraveling in tones of mossy green and aquamarine blue, his name monogrammed on the edge. The news anchor held it close, not a thought of hesitation as he carefully put it on.

“Of course. Meant to give that to you at the reception, but now’s as good a time as any.” Darby smiled as he watched his husband get well acquainted with his gift. “It was originally supposed to be a blanket, but now it’s got two functions.” 

“It’s perfect. Thank you. Pretty hard to find a good scarf that doesn’t itch like hell. If we wake up at a decent time later, I’ll wear it out.” 

“And I’ll wear those strike gloves you got me to set parking tickets on fire.”

“They have those here?” Warren raised an eyebrow.

“They’re wherever cars are, darling,” Hypno responded, interlocking his fingers with Warren’s. “We should probably start heading back up.”

As if on cue, a cool breeze blew through the air, making Warren shiver. “You’re right. Wanna watch trashy game shows and bash the contestants?” Stone started, the two walking out of the gated area and into the hotel.

“Depends, we’ve got ‘deal or no deal’ and ‘are you smarter than a ten year old’. It’s awful, but not the funny kind of awful.” Hypno shrugged as he followed behind Warren, both of them making their way into the elevator.

“How about that gay pirate show with the guy that sounds like you?” The news anchor offered, holding the door open for his partner, the pair back in their room.

“I’ll take it. Heard they’re filming the next season here.” Darby hung his jacket by the door, exchanging sneakers for slippers.

“Oh really?” Warren dipped into the bathroom and stole a hair clip, pinning his bangs back before following his partner to bed. 

“Yeah, must be exciting.” Hypno grabbed the remote, turning the tv on.

“Totally.” They passed out mere moments after settling back into bed.

***

A week and a half later

“Have you got everything? Leonardo’s arriving in ten minutes.” Darby checked over the room what seemed to be a million times, ensuring nothing was lost. 

Warren crammed the last of his things in his bag, the zipper creaking before finally closing shut. Anything that wasn’t a fixture of the room was coming with the two of them: from the free soaps to the champagne and chocolates. 

“Yep! All packed. Should be all set. If anything, we’ll probably end up waiting-” A bright blue portal appearing in the middle of their room shut him up. 

“You were saying?” Hypno inquired, the two walking through and to the other side. 

The portal ended in their apartment, with Leo, Donnie, Mikey, and Raph standing around to greet them. 

A warm welcome would be expected but was instead replaced with:

“Leo, I think you kidnapped two guys.”

“Did not!”

“There’s no way that that’s them.”

“Oh like just any random couple would walk through a mysterious portal with their bags packed. It’s gotta be them.” Leo discreetly shuffled over to the couple. 

“You are Warren and Hypno, right?” 

Stone and Darby exchanged a look. 

“We’re too normal for New York. Let’s save these for date night.” And with that, Hypno unclipped the cloaking brooch from his hair, effectively deactivating it. 

“See! I was right!” 

“Fine. But there’s no way in hell that tall guy is Warren.” 

“I could’ve sworn that April showed you photos of me.” The defunct anchorman begrudgingly unpinned his brooch from his lapel. 

“It really is him! Wow Leo, how are you so smart?” Mikey asked, a sarcastic edge to his star-struck voice. He’d been hanging out with Donnie too long. 

“I’ll explain later, little brother.” Leon was wearing quite the cocky grin for someone that picked a room at random and got lucky. 

“So, how was your honeymoon?” Dee spoke up, ignoring his brother’s shenanigans.

“It was… quite the experience.” Fanfare played to a montage of memories behind Hypno’s eyes, some standouts being: hijacking a boat, visiting the Queen Anne chocolate shop to show Warren chocolate fish, setting fire to the letter he’d received, barely staying awake for the Saturday show at the theatre, and plenty of memories rated for a far different audience. 

“We can talk about it at a later time if you want. You guys look exhausted.” 

“Considering that we just traveled back in time, technically, we’ll need a day to recover. But before we sleep, I got you this.” Darby rummaged around in his pack, excess items being taken away and put in their rightful spots by the magic of the apartment.

“The radioactive Garfield mug?! Yes!” Donnie grinned as a metal claw extended and took the present away. “Thank you. That thing can produce enough radiation to level a city.”

“Should we be worried?” Warren whispered, pausing as he dug around for Mikey and Leo’s gifts.

“Nah, he’s harmless.”

Donatello began to laugh maniacally.

“Mostly.”

Each turtle received a gift, with Mikey getting art supplies and exotic ingredients, Leo getting his awful one-liners book, and Raph receiving a stuffed kiwi bird toy that he promptly named Pickle. 

They left soon after, congratulating the couple on their marriage once again. There’d be time to tell tales of the honeymoon, New Zealand, and giving Donathan data on how the prosthetic legs worked out later. 

For now, the two would sip tea in the living room and watch the sunset. The familiar sounds of the city would echo through the streets, sirens wailing in the distance as people shouted up the block. Warren would flip through the channels until settling on the game show network. The two of them would make fun of the contestants, passing out to the sounds of people losing thousands of dollars. 

Nothing else would matter in that instant, as for all that a good vacation happened to be, it could never replace being home.