Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Leo does not live on the streets. Not really. It’s true that he spends most of his time outside, in shady neighborhoods, with shady people who may or may not be part of the mafia, but he doesn’t live there. Not really. He has a somewhat normal home, with a somewhat normal dad and he’s living a certainly not normal life, but he is quite alright with that. He’s not delusional. He knows he could never live a normal life.

But he has a cozy bedroom that might’ve become a little small as he grew, with fairy lights above his bed that his father bought after saving up a little. He has Lou Jitsu posters on his walls, and even though they're all a little torn and faded, he loves them with all his heart. What if his window is broken and he can't open it, and what if there's a little bit of mold growing behind a poster? He burns incense for a reason.

He was sure, however, that most people he knew absolutely assumed he was homeless and living on the streets.

There was that old woman down the street, who was probably part of the mafia, with her golden jewelry and too-expensive, branded glasses. She was basically blind and also a bit senile so Leo never worried about her finding out he’s not human. She always told Leo how he reminded her of her grandchildren and made sure that Leo understood if anything bad happened, he could come there to spend a night or two.

(She also made sure he understood that whoever harmed him would be dead in a few days. Leo never went to her for help.)

Then there was that nice blind man who ran a restaurant near their home, and whenever Leo went there to eat some hot food that didn’t taste like bad tap water and cheap meat, the man offered him a room to sleep in. When he was younger he didn’t understand. When he told his dad, he laughed it off and said that the man was just being polite and Leo should decline just as politely.

As he grew older, he understood. The shirts he borrowed from his father, the ones that were too big for him and were torn at some places, weren’t supposed to be fun and comfortable. People looked at him weird and he knew it wasn’t because he was a turtle.

He remembered that one time, when he was only seven or so years old, they were walking down the street, just like normal people, which was a rare occurrence. His father rarely took him out, mostly because he was worried what would happen if people realized Leo was a mutant, but also because he didn’t have the money to spare for fun activities.

Leo was wearing a huge sweater with the hood on his head, holding onto his dad’s hands and looking around the bright streets of New York, childlike awe clearly written on his face. This wasn’t the neighborhood they lived in. This was one of the main streets, full of busy people rushing to and from their jobs. Just like them. His father had work that day, just in this area of the city. Leo was more excited than he ever remembered being, which was surprising, since he firmly believed at that age that nothing could be more exciting than his fifth birthday, when he even got his own cake.

He didn’t notice the stares at first, but when he did, he couldn’t stop himself from looking around every time he felt eyes on him. People were looking at him. And not just him, but also his father. He briefly met the eyes of a sporty teen girl walking by but she immediately looked away, with a sort of expression on her face that Leo couldn’t decide right away.

It was pity. She was looking at him with pity in her eyes. Everyone was, in fact.

Leo noticed the lingering glances on the sweater he was wearing, on the torn sleeve and the patch on the side. He noticed how the strangers were looking at his dad, at his poorly gelled back hair and his one earring. The people were judging them. He didn’t quite figure out yet why, just that they did. There was no reason for it and they had absolutely no right to do it, but they did anyway.

Leo sat through his father’s show in uncharacteristic silence.

***

He moves with precise, well-practiced moves. It’s easy. He’s light on his feet, the boots he’s wearing barely making any sound. The alley is dark, the only source of light being the lamps from the nearest street, but that doesn’t bring a lot of brightness their way. One second, he’s just going home, and the next, he’s looking into a wallet filled with money. It was not planned, but he supposes if he can find something interesting he might as well take it.

The guy the wallet belonged to is out cold on the pavement, not by Leo’s doing, but by alcohol. He probably just stumbled out of a nearby bar. He has vomit under his head and his phone keeps buzzing but he doesn’t pick it up. Leo checks for a pulse and once he’s sure the man is alive, he shrugs and starts looking for any belongings that he could be interested in.

That’s how he finds the wallet and a rather expensive Rolex watch. He looks it over in the low light, squinting his eyes to make sure it’s not fake. It isn’t, quite the opposite. It’s custom made. It has 'For the best husband' engraved on the underside of it. Pity, he was kinda hoping he could give it to his father for his birthday.

He picks up the guy’s phone and easily opens it, pressing the unconscious man’s index finger to it. He checks through the contacts, just for the fun of it when he finds two people written in as ‘Hoe 1’ and ‘Hoe 2’. They’re not the esteemed life partner, since he also finds a contact titled ‘My love’.

Leo snorts. “Best husband my ass,” he mumbles to himself. He really was debating stealing the man’s fancy shoes, assuming it was below him, but he decides he deserves it. He also has no doubt the man is some rich, high-class boss of some fancy company and, well, he lives by the motto of eat the rich.

He walks home, throwing the guy's cards and personal informations in a dumpster. He had more membership cards than Leo assumes is normal and he does not have any need for those, so in the trash they go.

He pulls out multiple hundred dollar bills and he feels his face split into a grin without even realizing. Jackpot. He should really hang around that bar more often. Maybe more rich assholes like to spend their time there.

He mindlessly steps into their building, looking over the different pouches of the wallet to see if he missed anything else. He did. There's a little plastic bag with white powder in it that Leo throws out the window without thinking - he may be a lot of things but he is definitely not a cocaine addict - and a rolled up piece of paper filled with weed. He looks at it for a second, then shrugs and puts it in his jacket's inner pocket. Weed's good for bribing people, he found, so he might as well keep it.

Leo unlocks the door and steps into their apartment. "Hey, Pops! I'm home," he says, taking off his boots and placing them next to the door, facing the wall. He fixes his dad’s shoes to be perfectly aligned, then curls his toes against his socks as he steps down from the rug. He hates how cold the tiles get in their house in the winter, so he’s more than happy now, in the summer.

"I'm in the kitchen!" comes his father's cheerful voice. Leo smiles softly and moves that way, money in hand. He keeps his jacket on, since they don’t have any space to hang coats on. He usually just puts it over the back of the chair in his room.

"I got us some money!" he cheers as he walks up to the stove and looks into the pot. It looks more edible than his dad's cooking usually does. "What are you cooking? It looks great."

His father turns to him, his face pulled into a scowl. He has bags under his eyes and his goatee needs to be shaved, but he still pulls off the disappointed single parent look. Somehow the turtle finds it just as fascinating as annoying. He shouldn’t be able to do that. How can he make Leo feel guilty about what he’s doing while reminding him why he’s doing it?

"Leonardo, where did you get that?"

Leo shrugs and looks away. He hates it when his father uses his full name. Mostly because he only does it when Leo does something wrong. "I found it."

"Sure you did, young man," the older man says, shaking his head. "I told you so many times that you need to stop this. You know that, right? You could get in serious trouble."

Leo places the money on the counter and turns away as he bites the inside of his mouth until he feels the slight taste of his own blood. "I know. I'm sorry," he lies. He's not sorry. He will never be sorry for helping his dad live a remotely normal life. "I'm off to bed."

His father takes in a quick breath behind him, but Leo's already out of the kitchen. The tiles under his feet feel unnaturally cold, for some reason. "Wait–"

Leo shuts his door and leans on it. His dad is saying something under his breath that he doesn't fully catch, but it sounds like he's saying something about the soup going cold. So whatever he's making is some kind of soup, good to know, Leo thinks briefly. That’s gonna be a pass then. It looked nothing like soup.

He opens his eyes - when did he even close them, he didn't even realize - and looks at one of his old Lou Jitsu posters. When he was younger, he was obsessed with the guy. He knew every single movie of his by heart. He wanted to be an action movie hero like him when he grew up. Now the only thing he thinks of when he looks at the vintage poster is how much money he could get for it.

***

On the streets of New York, a lot of interesting things happen each day. There are robberies, those dog walkers who have at least five dogs that they are currently walking, and of course, fights.

When you live in the city, you get used to them. Somewhere along the lines, people getting chased or beaten up becomes the regular, and instead of stopping and being horrified for your life, it just turns into something you can say to your boss about why you were late to work that day. Disturbances hold up traffic quite a lot.

People turn a blind eye to figures randomly disappearing into sturdy brick walls. They just assume they were daydreaming or they’re just exhausted to the point of hallucination. Or they’re simply on drugs. But there are some things that even the most red-blooded Americans, who were born and raised in NYC with all its strangeness, simply just can't ignore. For example, two grown men running after an absurdly yellow dog.

***

It's not unlike Leo to wander around the city aimlessly, staying in the shadows and trying to not get spotted by any humans. He often finds himself in bad situations because of this habit of his, accidently stepping into a fight or two on a regular basis. He learned how to handle it a long while ago.

But it also gets him to shady or dangerous places. His dad says he's looking for trouble. Leo would simply say he's not the luckiest person on earth and that accidents happen.

He tends to follow suspicious looking people and stick his nose into their business. He got himself in trouble because he stepped into the middle of a drug deal not once, not twice, but five different times, actually. He always managed to escape the situations, though.

This time, he finds himself next to a construction site. He was following some shady man with a trench coat who totally looked like a Russian spy from a movie. Maybe with a tragic backstory and superhuman abilities. He had an earpiece in, that his stylish black hair tried to cover, but it was doing quite a poor job at it. He kept constantly looking around the street, like he was paranoid that someone followed him. Suspicious.

Leo was fully ready to follow the man in all black and learn everything he could about him and his super secret Russian spy mission. And then he saw a sudden burst of light from the corner of his vision and he immediately got distracted by it.

***

“You ready, April?” he asks through the phone, voice and body both seemingly buzzing with excitement. It’s late at night. He shouldn’t be out at this time of the day and he knows that. Dad would worry, if he realized his son wasn’t home. But as he hears his sister’s response, he can’t help but forget all about that. Dad won’t notice anyway, he reasons within his own head.

“You know I am, Mikey! Come on!” comes the excited shout from the other end.

Mikey giggles and jumps, the low-budget on-sale grappling hook they bought last week supporting his weight easily. He’s attached to it at his shoulder with the help of his chest harness, but as he quickly slides down, he unfastens the buckle and starts falling, straight into a pool.

(He absently notes that one one of the roofs he was sliding above is holding some event with sketchy looking men, but he does nothing and just decides to simply ignore it. It's not his problem and he certainly doesn’t want it to be.)

"Cowabunga! Cannonball!" he shouts, hitting the surface of the water. A good portion of it spills out of the pool and he's left to weakly and awkwardly swim to the side. He grabs the edge with a deep, relieved sigh. He hates swimming. He’s a bad swimmer and he hates how cold he gets after. He really wouldn't do stuff like this if the jumping and splashing weren't so fun.

"You totally crushed that!" April appears at his side, squatting down next to the pool and showing him the video she managed to take on her phone. It's a little blurry and her hands were probably shaking a little, but Mikey still beams up at her.

"It felt like I crushed it too! That was rad!" he laughs. He loves spending time with his sister like this. Having little adventures with her and going places. Ever since she gave in to him and started bringing him out to the city more often, they’ve spent more time together than ever before. He wonders if he could one day go abroad with her, maybe after she's finished with school.

Of course, first he'd need to do something about that whole situation as they keep referring to the fact that he is a human sized goddamn mutant turtle.

Mikey pulls himself out of the pool, his skin all wet and dripping onto the floor. He shakes his hands and legs to try and get the water off, while April gets a wet floor sign - and a dry pool sign, which apparently exists - from God knows where and places it down. She claps her hands together in that 'Good job, O'Neil' way she usually does, and Mikey can't help but let a little chuckle escape from his mouth.

"Where to now?" he asks once he feels moderately dry. He still feels cold though and the water has soaked into his clothes. Yikes. April looks up from her phone and grins.

"You remember that boba place I mentioned?" she asks. Mikey nods, practically feeling the excitement in his bones. "Apparently, it's still open. Wanna go? My treat."

Thank God for older sisters, Mikey thinks as he jumps on April and almost makes her fall. She wraps her arms around him quickly and tries to keep her balance, so they don't both stumble right into the pool. She lets out a shriek of "Mikey! What the hell?!" but they both start laughing soon.

She pats Mikey on the top of his head and rolls her eyes fondly at him. "Get yourself off me before I change my mind."

Mikey jumps down as fast as he can and slips on the wet floor, falling back onto his shell while April is laughing her ass off. She knows he's not hurt, not only by how his shell is protecting him from damage, but also because his own shoulders are also shaking a little bit with laughter.

Mikey jumps up into a squat and then a stand like he's some kind of world class gymnast, trying his hardest not to fall back down again. When he's standing again, April claps for him and he bows a little at the waist.

"Come on, Michael! Let's go!" she urges him to move. "Mind if I catch a ride?"

They usually traveled like this, on the top of rooftops, since Mikey couldn't be seen on the streets and it was better than traveling through the sewers. Don't get him wrong, he lived down there and it was surprisingly nice but still, this was more comfortable for everyone involved. And he could technically go on the streets if he wore clothing that could disguise him as a human, like hoodies and hats, but simply put, this is way more fun.

Mikey lets April jump on his back - just like usual - and steps back to gain more momentum - just like usual. What isn't like usual though, is when he jumps to cross the distance between the building they are standing on and the one next to it, he lets his eyes wander and they land on a construction site.

And… is that a turtle standing there?

Mikey lands on the next building and he turns around to stare at the stranger. Are they really a turtle, like him? They could be a human with all green and blue clothing, he thinks for a moment, but then they turn around, now fully facing away from Mikey. That's definitely a shell. The blue patterns on it are just like Mikey’s own, actually, just in a different color. It can't be anything else. That's a turtle.

"April," he speaks up, voice full of awe. "Please tell me I haven't gone crazy and you're seeing what I'm seeing."

April turns her head in the direction Mikey is looking and lets out a loud gasp. "Is that…" she lets the question linger in the air, but neither of them need it to be finished. They look at each other with determination in their eyes and nod.

Mikey jumps.

***

Leo looks at the little - for lack of a better word - creature at his feet. It’s ridiculously yellow and blue, with some bright red fur, too. It has huge fangs and a little vial of some glowing green liquid in its neck. Leo squats down in front of it, the animal immediately taking a step back and hissing at him.

“Hey there buddy,” he says in the calmest voice he can manage. He doesn’t want to spook whatever that is. It could bite him if he does. It might have rabies or something and Leo is simply too handsome to get rabies. “I’m not trying to hurt you or anything. I don’t even know what you are.”

The animal seems to understand him to some degree, or at least, Leo guesses so by the way it looks over him again with clear judgment in its eyes. He’s never been good with animals though, even if that sounds a bit ironic, given the fact that he’s a turtle.

What, you don’t like gay people? Leo thinks, almost saying it out loud. Maybe upsetting the crazy looking weird animal - that could have rabies, he reminds himself - isn’t the best course of action, so he stays silent. He does let out a little chuckle at the thought though. Hah, his humor is just amazing, he definitely learned it from his dad.

A loud thud from behind him makes him jump up and turn around in less than a second. He sees the girl first - she’s around his age, maybe a few years older. She’s wearing yellow and green clothing that matches nicely with her hair and skin color. And she has glasses. Not those typical Disney Channel nerd character glasses, but simple, cool ones. She’s stylish and seems nice, like the kind of person Leo could get along with if he had the chance of getting to know her.

Then he sees him. A turtle.

He’s small - smaller than Leo and the girl both - and he has yellow spots on his shoulders and thighs that remind Leo of his own markings. He wears all orange - a chest harness, elbow and knee pads with faces on them and a bandana. His plastron and shell has a few stickers on it, all pink and blue. It makes Leo smile softly, affection already building for this strange turtle in front of him.

“Oh, wow,” Leo whispers almost absently. “This is so cool.”

“Right?” The other turtle laughs and starts flapping his hands in a fashion that is pretty similar to Leo - he does the same, sometimes. “I’m Michelangelo. Mikey, for short,” he says, reaching out with a hand, waiting for Leo to shake it. He does without even thinking about it, which is rare for him. He’s usually more guarded than this.

“Woah, that’s a weird coincidence. My name’s Leonardo,” he laughs when he sees the others’ unbelieving expressions. “But I prefer just Leo.”

The human girl chimes in. “And I’m April O’Neil. The one and only.”

Leo smiles at the two of them, a new sense of affection and unusual familiarity settling into his chest. He likes these two, he decides. The two of them act like they have known each other for a long time and he realizes that he wants to stick around long enough to hear how their first interactions went. They look at each other for only a second and seemingly communicate without words.

April raises an eyebrow. Mikey nods and turns to Leo. “By the way, what are your pronouns?”

“Oh,” Leo lets out a surprised noise. He reflexively grabs his t-shirt and yanks it a little to adjust it. And then he realizes what he just did and really hopes April and Mikey didn’t catch that. “He slash him,” he says with fake nonchalance. “Thanks for asking. What about you?”

“Same for me,” Mikey replies, shrugging.

“I’m a she-her kinda gal,” April laughs, throwing an imaginary bit of hair over her shoulders in a motion that seems all too familiar for Leo. “And who’s the little guy?” she asks, pointing behind Leo, straight at the little yellow dog.

“No idea,” Leo shakes his head and watches as the girl easily picks up the animal. “I kinda assumed it ran away already. It seems to like you.”

“What is it anyway?” Mikey asks while he tries to scratch the chin of the little creature. It bites him in a millisecond. “Ow!”

A loud grunt from behind them catches all of their attention. Two sturdy human men are standing a few feet away from them, somehow looking both pissed off and surprisingly calm at the same time. Leo doesn’t know how they manage that, but he’s a bit impressed, if he’s being honest.

He clears his throat and starts his well rehearsed routine without thinking. He quickly puts on his jacket so he doesn’t have to hold it, even if he does feel a little too warm in it. He puts on the nerdiest voice he can manage and speaks with wide hand gestures. “Um, excuse me sirs. Can you direct us to the local science fiction convention that we are currently dressed for?”

Mikey’s eyes visibly shine as he catches on and steps out from behind April, who’s trying to muffle a laugh. “Do you like our turtle…” he thinks for a second, fumbling over his words. “I mean, alien turtle outfits?”

“We have to practice that sometime,” Leo whispers to him with an amused smirk. “Even a complete idiot wouldn’t believe that.”

“Everyone’s a critic,” Mikey jokes in a fake hurt voice. Leo wants to continue the jokes, but one of the men speaking up stops him as he turns his attention to the strangers. He doesn’t even have time to think about how Mikey didn’t deny there being enough time for them to practice their little act. Does he also want to spend more time with Leo? What about April? She’s cool, Leo wants to get to know her.

One of the men in front of them starts speaking again in a heavy russian accent. “How do you say… pretty please…” he says in a mocking tone. “Give us the dog and nothing bad will happen.”

“Yeah, that’s not happening,” April says confidently.

The two men look at each other and the next second they start glowing and their bodies get bigger and bigger as they transform into fish-like creatures. Before the teenagers can do anything there are two huge mutants in front of them sitting on large, growling dogs. They each have weapons in their hands and look menacingly at Leo, Mikey and April.

Leo blinks a few times, then tries to joke to make the situation less tense and also because his heartbeat is faster and louder than he remembers it ever being before. “So… You guys from Jersey?”

“Well,” Mikey says with an excited tone. “At least I can try these out.”

Leo looks over to him just in time to see him pull out a pair of nunchucks from behind his back. “You guys have weapons?” He asks in awe, turning to April. Mikey already rushed in to fight one of the mutants.

The girl doesn’t have any weapons though, Leo notes. Instead she grabs two random pieces of metal from beside her and grins at the turtle. He gets a shiver down his spine and takes a mental note to never mess with April because she could and would easily kill him if she wanted to.

“Hey Leo! Wanna try what it’s like fighting with swords?” she asks, Leo laughing and nodding immediately, understanding what she means.

She throws him the metal rods, but at that second, Mikey comes flying back from the fight he was in, crashing into the ground and Leo’s attention wanes. The items dart through the air over Leo’s head. He’s about to call it a day and charge at the attackers bare handed, but the next second the little yellow creature - who seems to be on their side - grabs the metal (When did it jump up there?) and with a flash, appears in Leo’s hands (What?), dropping off the makeshift weapons and disappearing again.

“It teleports?!” Leo shouts, astonished. “This day can’t get any cooler!”

He flips one of the metal pieces in his hand, testing the weight of it. He’s not used to wielding any weapons - he only used a gun and a baseball bat for self defense only a couple of times. However, he doesn’t let that take his confidence away. He charges at the mutant in front of him, trying to imitate a move from an old Lou Jitsu movie as he spins to gain more momentum.

It - predictably - does not work.

He kinda expected that. What he did not expect was the easy way the huge man just slices through his “blades”, leaving him staring at the metal in despair. He tries brushing his fail off, throwing the items to the side and shrugging while he grins with fake confidence. “I guess I’ll just use my rad skills, then!”

Admittedly, he does better with his usual fighting style. No weapons to rely on, just his street smarts and quick thinking. Of course, he doesn't stand a chance like this either, but those few moments when he can dodge his attacker's hits are satisfying nonetheless. It makes him feel like his younger self’s dreams really did come true and he became a real action hero.

The next second, a heavily armored leg kicks him in the plastron, sending him back. He lands directly on Mikey. Leo doesn’t know how trained the other turtle is with the nunchucks, but he guesses not a lot. The wooden weapons lie next to them, completely broken and unusable.

“Never doing that again,” Leo mutters, every part of his body aching.

“Woah!” April exclaims loudly. The boys look her way and see as the little creature gets trapped in some kind of magical ball. Leo tries to stand up but his muscles protest and he just falls back into Mikey.

The men open a door in a brick wall that feels a little too out of place to not be there on purpose. Just as Leo finally manages to get up, he hears the bell of a bike and a delivery guy exclaims “Sweet shortcut!” as he rides right into the portal, falling down into God knows where.

The huge mutants both go in too, like nothing happened, taking their new furry friend with them. Leo’s about to give up as he rolls off of the other turtle. Mikey sits up and grabs his arm, a bruise already forming on it.

“Oh no, you don’t!” April shouts and runs after the two huge mutants. Leo glances at her frantically just in time to see her jump after the strangers and for the door to close behind her.

For a few brief seconds, there’s silence, then Leo speaks, furrowing non-existent brows. “Did she just…”

“She did,” Mikey sighs. He stands up. Leo wonders if the smaller turtle even got hurt at all, if he’s already up and moving, but he just shakes his head and sits up himself. He’s feeling fine, too. He can move, even if he’s limping a bit and his stomach area is still in pain. He’ll be fine. His wounds tend to heal quicker than normal.

But he has to help and find April now. And that little thing, he supposes.

“What now?” he asks, looking up at Mikey as he rubs his shoulder.

The younger turtle hums softly, his back turned to Leo and only looking back when he hears the other slowly getting up. “I’ve seen this before,” he says, pointing at the wall. Leo steps next to him and looks at the symbol. “My dad has something that has this on it, I’m pretty sure.”

“Does your dad have a lot of weird stuff, too?” Leo asks, thinking of all the magic rings and other definitely not normal household things he grew up surrounded by. “Okay, maybe mine doesn’t do weird to this extreme but…” he shrugs and leaves the sentence unfinished.

“Oh,” Mikey chuckles. “He has a whole do-not-touch cabinet.”

***

"So, what's the plan?" Leo asks him.

And if he's being honest, Mikey had absolutely no idea. They're in the lair, as he and April like to call it, and he has no clue what he's supposed to do now. April is gone, a small, insecure part of his brain reminds him. What is he supposed to do without her big sister? She’s usually the one who gets those certain cogs turning.

"I'm not sure," he tells Leo honestly, deciding that this was the best thing to do. Honesty was always the best choice, right? "It's on that shelf," he points to it, on the far wall. "But dad always watches TV around this time and it's impossible to get him out of his chair."

Leo shrugs. "You can still try."

Mikey hums, thinking about it. "I guess."

The other turtle shoves at his shoulder with a wide grin. "Go on then! The floor is yours."

Mikey stumbles in front of the old chair his father likes to sit in and stays silent for a few seconds, fidgeting with his hands. "Hey dad," he says after, gaining some kind of slight confidence. "I was wondering…"

"What is it, Orange?" the small rat mutant asks, voice impatient. "You know I'm in the middle of my commercials."

Mikey smiles brightly at his father. "Right! I was wondering if I could watch them with you?"

The older mutant sounds suspicious. "Where's April? Didn't you go out with her earlier?"

"Well, yes," Mikey mumbles, trying to think of any kind of excuse. He can’t just say what actually happened since Dad would just not believe him but he hates lying. He has to brace himself for it. "She had to go home," he fumbles over his words. His father raises an eyebrow. "She got sick."

"In the summer?"

Mikey's brain short circuits as he's trying to search for a reasonable explanation. He finds none. He hates lying. God, he hates lying. Especially to people he cares about. Fortunately, he sees Leo from the corner of his eye, as the turtle motions for him with his hands and he decides to dip.

"You're right, Pops," he says, inching closer and closer to the doorway. "Maybe she just wanted to get rid of me, so I'll go bother her even more. Karma."

That's something he would actually say, he knows it, and he's relieved when he hears his father's laughter as he steps out of the room. That last line was either very in-character, or something happened in a commercial. He doesn't quite know which one is better.

He flops down next to Leo with a sigh. "I'm sorry, that was horrible."

"We need to work on your acting skills, for sure," Leo nods, tossing a little coin-like item into the air and catching it again. "However…"

He throws it at Mikey, who almost misses it entirely. They look at each other for a brief second before Leo’s seemingly ever present grin gets wider.

"Leon's got it."

Mikey looks down at the small object in his hands and recognizes it as what they came here for. He looks up at Leo, absolutely taken aback. "How?"

Leo shrugs nonchalantly. "I'm just cool like that. I'm a natural."

"At stealing?" Mikey questions. Leo lets out a laugh that feels a bit forced to the younger turtle's ears.

"I would call it getting what I want.”

***

They finally get into, well, wherever this place is, after Mikey opens the portal again and they jump down into the unknown. Leo would normally be a bit more cautious, but he's never had this much fun in his life and all of this is just so awesome and–

"Is that a flying whale?!" he exclaims, pointing into the orange tainted sky, where there actually is a whale, with white, feathered wings, flying. "This is totally like a Jupiter Jim comic!"

“You read JJ comics too?” Mikey asks with excitement. Leo turns to him and wants to start excitedly talking about his favorite volumes but he sees April from the corner of his eyes.

"Guys! Over here!" comes April's voice from beside the two turtles. Mikey immediately forgets the comic-talk and runs to her to hug her, Leo behind him, walking slowly with his hands in his pocket.

He thinks about how nice it must be to have siblings.

"April! What is this place?" Mikey asks, still clinging to the girl.

"It's some kind of magical city under New York," she explains like this is all normal and an everyday thing for the two of them.

Leo's not jealous about it, no. He would never be. That's stupid. He just doesn't get how his life has to be boring and gray and the only exciting thing being when a random homeless guy attacks him and he has to throw weed at him until he stops but… no, he would never be jealous.

"Where's the dog thingy?" he asks, looking around more. Maybe if they get that thing back soon enough, he can have a look around in this underground city.

April points to a huge building behind them and they all turn towards it. It looks menacing, all dark colors and typical villain-green.

Exactly like a Jupiter Jim comic, Leo thinks in awe.

***

“Son?” A deep voice rings through the house and reaches his room. He jumps up, full of excitement. He has been waiting for so long for this and the day finally came when they can start their plan. He moves swiftly, knowing every step and stair until he’s in the laboratory as his clothes flow around him.

He’s in his usual dark purple kimono, but Father is already wearing his armor, the long golden horns of his helmet shining in the light coming from the various lamps around them. When the Yōkai sees him, he takes it off, however, shaking his head a little to get his long hair out of his face.

“Father,” he says as he finally approaches him. The man’s face softens as he looks at him, a smile appearing in the corners of his mouth. “Is it time?”

Father raises his hand but stops midair. “May I?” he asks and when he receives a nod, he places his hand on his son’s shoulder. "Get ready, Donatello. The spy has been captured. It's time."

***

"What now?" Mikey whispers to him, looking down at the scene unfolding in front of them.

They got into the building just fine and so they are currently perched on a higher level, looking down at the armored person on a lower floor, who was wearing all shining gold - gauntlets and even a helmet with large horns. He was standing right next to a huge tank, with the yellow creature and the delivery guy from earlier in cages made of vines in front of him. He wasn't doing anything though. Just standing there and letting the little black, flying things - that Leo thought might be some kind of magical gargoyles based on appearance - have fun and laugh at the human.

It felt almost like he was waiting for something.

A huge door opens with a creek, the loud, confident footsteps immediately drawing the turtles' attention to the new person who just stepped into the room.

"No way," Mikey whispers.

Leo feels just as shocked, but he doesn't express that feeling and instead keeps watching as the stranger walks up to the man and looks up at him.

There's a metal staff in his hands, but he still reaches up to his face that has rectangular purple marks on it and takes off his helmet. It's decorated with small horns, but unlike the man's, his is made out of iron instead of gold. He also lacks the gauntlets, instead opting for his bare hands with some seriously sharp claws on them. There's a purple shell on his back with spikes on it, obviously made of metal, and clinging to him like a backpack. Besides these obvious differences, his armor is pretty much the same as the man's.

"Father," the strange turtle says.

"What?" Leo whispers now. They look at each other with Mikey, eyes wide as they have a silent conversation. They almost miss how the man takes off his own helmet.

He seems to be some kind of goat-man creature. Is he a mutant, too? Leo wonders for a brief second before April's voice snaps him out of his thoughts.

"Yo, guys! Check out what I just found!"

They follow her into a random room, that is a mix between a dojo and an armory, with an open space on one side but with a dozen weapons on the other. Leo may start to look like a geek here with all of his movie and comic analogies but it totally looks like something that could be a part of the Lou Jitsu set.

"Weapons!" April exclaims. She grabs random objects and gives each a test swing. Leo would be worried about fingerprints being left on them if he wouldn’t immediately be distracted by low, colorful lights coming from the other side of the room.

Leo looks to the far wall just as Mikey starts inspecting a bow and he is immediately in love. He grabs the younger turtle by the top of his shell and drags him further into the room.

"Leo! What the–" Mikey struggles, April jumping up at the noise with a katana in her hands. Then he turns his head to see what Leo wants to show him and… "Ohmegosh, glowy weapons!"

Leo releases him with a chuckle and watches as he immediately grabs a bright orange kusari-fundō that matches his accessories.

(He knows the name of the weapon not because he's a nerd but because he knows the best Lou Jitsu movie is Dawn of the Dragon, where he wields exactly this type of weapon for the majority of the scenes.)

"This is so cool," Leo says for what seems like the hundredth time that day as he takes down another glowing weapon for himself. This one is an ōdachi with a blue handle, and again, he is in love. This is what love feels like, he just knows it. And if it isn’t it really should be that because that is the only word he can use to describe his affection to this inanimate object. The weapon feels perfect in his hands, like it was made for him.

(Okay, maybe he is a nerd, because why else would he know the names of these weapons. But he's a nerd with taste. His favorite LJ film is Tower of the Stars and his favorite character in it is the random man who doesn't even have a name but has a few very questionable and extremely queercoded scenes with Lou. And he has an ōdachi.

The movie is hated by the entire Lou Jitsu fan community, but he cherishes it dearly.)

April grabs some cool type weapon too, then they're out of the room in a second, just in time to see as the delivery guy gets injected with something by a mosquito and turns into a fish-man.

"What the hell was that?" April whispers to herself, now all three of them looking down with a horrified expression.

The strange turtle in armor holds his hands in a loose fist and shakes them in front of his chest in rapid motion.

"Is he…" Leo tilts his head to the side, but doesn't finish the question, leaving it hanging in the air. Stimming, he thinks. Is he stimming?

"It works, Father!" he exclaims, his monotone voice tilting weirdly with excitement, turning to the other mutant. "I ran enough tests that I assumed it would, of course, but it's still good to see my mosquitoes in action."

The man softly places a hand on his shoulder, the armored fingers barely touching the turtle. "Good job, Donatello. I'm proud."

Leo groans. He's had enough of this. He doesn't know who these people are, or what they're doing, but he finally feels like it's time to interrupt it. He’s irritated by how many coincidences there are between himself, Mikey and Donatello, but it irritates him even more that he understands that they clearly can’t be all coincidences. Three turtles, all with strange markings on them, and all named after renaissance artists. Surely, there’s some correlation between the three of them.

He stands up and aims his newly found (stolen) ōdachi down at the two strangers. They turn around as soon as they hear his voice.

"I honestly have no idea what even is going on here, but stop, you–" he waves the sword like he's just gesturing. "Evil scientists? I genuinely don't know. I think it fits, so we'll just stick with that."

Mikey and April jump up next to him. The other mutants are looking at them with wide eyes. The man says something that Leo doesn't quite catch, but the turtle standing next to him - Donatello - clearly does, looking at him with a confused expression.

"Let's just do this," April says, jumping down with a loud exclamation of "April O'Neil!"

"Huh, girl's got guts. Also, did she just…" Leo says, glancing at Mikey. The orange-clad turtle laughs.

"She did. You'll get used to it," he says, then jumps down too, landing on his feet with practiced ease.

Leo joins them in front of the mutants, ready to fight. Well, as ready as he can be, anyway. Their enemies put on their helmets without a word, and really, Leo didn't realize how scary the big guy’s one looked from far away.

April is suddenly grabbed by the two little gargoyles and flown away, the girl thrashing and kicking in their grip. Leo glances at her, then back at their opponents. "Not cool."

The man snorts and throws something on the ground. "Donatello," he addresses the turtle. The smaller mutant spins his metal staff for a second, then starts running directly to Leo. "Aim to capture, not kill."

Leo has just enough time to block the hit coming his way, the metal of their weapons clashing together with a sickening sound. The impact is so strong that he gets pushed back a few feet and barely falls on his back. He glares at Donatello. The coincidences with the names are really getting on his nerves, now. But it looks like the other guy is just as displeased to see him. He spins his staff and aims at Leo's head who - again - barely dodges the hit.

"Woah, woah, easy there," he says, taking multiple steps back. He tries to swing his sword and hit the turtle at least once, but he is so aggressive and keeps on spinning his staff that Leo doesn’t even have the chance to do that.

Donatello groans, his grip tightening on the cold metal in his hands until his knuckles turn almost white. "You came back, with a human, and you expect me to go easy on you?"

Leo blinks a few times as he processes what the other just said, but he's knocked down his feet in the next second. His ōdachi falls from his hands, and instead he feels the weapon of his opponent at his neck, the cold from it spreading through his veins like dread. Maybe it is dread. Donatello stomps on his plastron, effectively keeping him down.

"What do you mean back?" he struggles out, his chest and back aching from the impact.

Donatello looks at him with a hardly decipherable expression, something between shock and pure doubt, but Leo is once again too slow to react before something slams into the turtle standing above him. It takes him a second to jump up and realize that that something was actually Mikey, his weapon on fire and seemingly out of control. Leo just watches as he flies all across the room, then lands next to him with a loud groan.

April jumps down on Mikey’s other side, like she’s appearing from thin air, the gargoyles defeated. “Woah, what was that?” she asks, excitement and amazement clear in her voice.

“I don't know, ”Mikey stands up and looks at his weapon as he starts twirling it. “I was just swinging this thing and then–” the kusari-fundō lights on fire, Leo felt staring at it with shining eyes.

He glances towards where Donatello fell, the turtle now standing next to the goat man. He has an angry expression on his face as he grips the staff in his hands and Leo just can’t keep the grin off of his face. “Let’s see what mine does!” he shouts as he launches towards the mutant covered in metal, who does the same.

Leo tries to concentrate on whatever mystical ability his weapon could have, thinking of all the cliche lines from movies when it comes to magic. As he swings the blade, blue lightning-like particles come off of it, feeling like it became one with him, the sparks in his blood. The metal clashes with Donatello’s staff, the blue traveling down, but nothing happens.

Then Leo starts falling.

And he keeps falling, two blue portals opening above and below him, making him unable to stop the spiral and somehow get out of the loop. Donatello steps back and most likely looks at him with a silly expression, however Leo is too busy falling to really process anything. He’s debating if just throwing the sword away could make it stop, when something hits him and engulfs him like a cage, sending him flying off to the opposite wall.

April is already there, struggling against her bonds - that look like a disgusting cocoon - and soon enough, Mikey lands next to them too.

"You fight like untrained warriors," the man observes, looking down at the three of them with a disappointed expression. "But you are destined to do great things. Let me train you. Join us."

Leo is reminded of what Donatello said. That they came back. He glares at the turtle, trying to solve this mystery like a puzzle, but Donatello's not even looking back at him. Instead, he's glancing behind his shoulders, at the huge container in the middle of the room. Leo follows his line of sight, seeing the wires sparking with electricity. He might not be a technological genius but even he knows they’re not supposed to do that.

"Father," Donatello calls out with a shocked tone, but the older mutant is too focused on his speech.

"You two belong here. If only you'd agree to make you proper warriors…"

Donatello tries again, with a louder "Father" but it's too late. Something snaps, electricity cracking and something crashes into the little yellow animal's cage, setting it free. It teleports into April's lap, the girl looking around the room that is slowly but surely collapsing, then at the creature.

"Hey buddy, can you get us out of here?"

The last thing Leo registers is a huge part of the ceiling breaking down and Donatello screaming "Papa!"

***

If he’s being totally honest, he has no idea why he follows them at first. Maybe because they’re turtles, too. It’s just that he has a feeling that something will go wrong, and he supposes he’s right when he sees Baron Draxum’s home collapse in on itself. He has a pretty good view of it from the rooftop he’s sitting on, and he knows that the strangers who went in must be dead.

Then, they appear in a sudden flash of light - with different weapons, he notices, his curiosity sparking up. The smaller one uses a device to open a portal into a nearby wall, and they vanish as they jump through it. The last one is the kappa Yōkai with the red markings on his face, who takes a last look back over his shoulder to the destroyed mansion before following the other two.

He stares at the spot they were just in, pulling his scarf further up his face, a plan already forming in his head. Those weapons… They had to be mystic. And since they stole them from Draxum…

He’s already grinning when he reaches for his phone, waiting for the ringing to end and a familiar voice to speak up. “Hello there. What’s the matter, sweetheart?”

“Hey, Ma. Y’know, I was just thinking…”

***

“That was…” Mikey starts as they stand now on concrete instead of dirt, the well-known and deeply loved smell of smog in the air.

“So cool!” Leo finished his sentence, jumping up and looking at the sword in his hands like it’s the best thing that ever happened to him, even if he knows that’s not true. “Do you guys usually do this kind of stuff? Where can I sign up?”

“I guess it was kinda cool, but Dad’s thingy broke,” Mikey says as he looks down at the broken device. Oh right. Leo forgot about that.

“Maybe he won’t even notice?” he says, the sentence coming out more like a question. He knows nothing about Mikey’s father other than the fact that he likes watching TV and collects strange things on a shelf, but he seems way cooler than Donatello’s father.

April shakes her head. “I don’t think he will either,” she mentions with an unreadable tone as she looks down at the yellow dog. “Ah, we should really thank this good boy though. Or girl. Actually, what even are you?”

Leo leans closer to the creature but it immediately tries to bite him, so he steps back. “A menace.”

“You went through all that mayhem just to save us,” April continues like he didn’t even say anything, then pauses and looks at the turtles with excitement shining in her eyes. “Hey, that’s a cute name. Mayhem!”

Mayhem lets out a little sound and snuggles further into April’s arms, seemingly liking his new name.

Another sound reaches Leo’s ears, this one longer and deeper, coming from the portal that was still open. It’s like some sort of bug buzzing, but multiplied by a hundred, like there’s a lot of them. He remembers the mosquito that turned that poor human into a fish and looks towards the door, fearing for the worst.

And he’s right, unfortunately. A swarm of those same mosquitoes comes flying out and they slowly vanish into the New York sky, spreading out all across the city like a disease.

“Oh, no,” Mikey whispers from next to him.

“This is bad,” April says, as all three of them look at each other, expressions shocked.

Leo eloquently adds “Yeah. Very bad.”

He assumes it would be a bad call to say what he’s actually thinking after meeting two evil scientists who turn humans into mutant monsters for fun and letting their weaponized bugs into New York. Especially since he has a feeling there might be something going on with that turtle and them.

But as he’s going home with his new, cool, shiny sword, he can’t stop thinking about just how cool this day has been.

Chapter Text

“Okay, okay, this is my favorite part, watch,” Leo says excitedly, dropping his chopsticks down into his bowl and standing up, Mikey’s amused giggle sounding up as he does so. Leo strikes a pose, the exact same one Lou Jitsu is doing on screen and says it together with the actor.

“It is finally time to give you a culinary lesson,” he says as he punches his knuckles together, Lou Jitsu’s obviously forced american accent playing with his own from the old movie. “Hot soup!”

Mikey whoops and cheers him on, going as far to start clapping for his performance, which Leo takes with pride as he bows theoretically and sits back down. Journey to Nowhere may not be his favorite LJ movie, but it was apparently Mikey’s and he couldn’t say no when the box turtle asked him if he wanted to rewatch it with him. It has been a while since Leo’s seen it, and it had some actually pretty good scenes that he memorized as a child, so he supposed watching this over the other - objectively superior - ones was fine.

And he didn’t want to say no to Mikey, mostly. Especially after meeting him in the middle of the night in a random little street, fully alone. At that moment, if Mikey asked anything of him, Leo assumed he’d probably say yes.

So he guided Mikey to his favorite restaurant to spend some time with him while watching one of the worst Lou Jitsu movies to ever exist. After Leo introduced him to the restaurant’s owner and only chef who actually worked at an hour like this, they ordered and sat down, Leo basically buzzing with excitement to slander the horrible script and old CGI for an hour and a half. He quickly stopped himself from doing so when he saw Mikey’s expression, a childlike joy clearly written on his face, with his eyes shining.

Now, he sits back down into his chair and keeps his mouth shut about why he really learned this line. It wasn’t just about his usual obsession with Lou Jitsu and it wasn’t even because of younger, little Leo wanting to feel like a real hero while saying the line with his own hero, no. He can vividly remember why he learned it. On his dad’s old CD player, he kept asking for just this one line to be replayed over and over to the point of driving his father crazy. Because it was off. The whole line. It didn’t fit any narrative, the pacing of it was weird and Leo just couldn’t believe this was a real part of the script that a real person wrote down and someone else actually approved. He still can’t believe it.

“Man, that’s so cool,” Mikey says as Leo returns to his side, then slumps a little bit, placing his chin on his arms on the table. “I wish I could be like him.”

Leo has to look at him for only a second before he decides exactly what to do. “What if we can be?”

Mikey blinks up at him. “What do you mean?”

“We have weapons now, don’t we? All we need is an opportunity to use them,” Leo explains with wide, energetic gestures. “We can be heroes. Like him.”

The smaller turtle practically shoots up from his seat and bounces on his heels, his bowl of half-eaten ramen forgotten for a second as he considers the idea. “We can be heroes! Leo, you’re right!” Mikey jumps at Leo, giving him a hug seemingly out of the blue, leaving the slider stunned for a second, then - like he didn’t even do anything - he grabs his phone and types in something. “There has to be some kind of crime going on around here. It’s New York!”

Leo grabs his wrist with a soft laugh, affection filling his chest as he sees his new friend’s enthusiasm. “Woah, slow down, Mike. Eat your food first, then I’ll grab my sword from home and we can go.”

Mikey nods, stars basically visible in his eyes as he quickly eats all of his ramen in the next minute or so. When he’s all finished, he looks expectantly at Leo, who sighs and pats the little turtle’s head as he stands up to pay.

(Before Mikey and him ran into each other, he encountered a few gangsters around the area - probably just weak henchmen, given how easily he could beat them up - and after looking through their pockets, he found fifty bucks or so. Leo reasoned that if they were here, they meant trouble and nobody can hurt his favorite chef.)

“Thank you for the food, Mr. Murakami,” Leo says as he gives the sweet old man all his money. “And for even letting us in this late. You’re a savior.”

The man shakes his head, in the universal sign of ‘don’t even mention it’. “You know I’ll always let you in,” he turns vaguely towards Mikey’s direction. “And any friend of yours, too.”

Leo belatedly realizes the poor man probably thinks Mikey is living on the streets, just like he expects he does, too. He doesn’t say anything about it though, only lets out a little huff through his nose, accepting the fact that it’s better to be assumed homeless than actually having nowhere to go to.

Mr. Murakami mutters something under his breath in Japanese, but Leo only catches a few words of it with his limited knowledge of the language. At some point, the man tried to teach him since Leo always asked him to when he was younger, but he didn’t get too far in learning.

Mikey, however, responds without thinking. “Don’t worry, sir! We will be careful.”

***

“So,” Leo starts awkwardly, holding his sword in an unfamiliar grip, feeling out of place with it in his hands all of a sudden. “You speak Japanese?”

Mikey looks at him, like he doesn’t understand the question for a brief second, then something must click for him, because he laughs a little and scratches his neck as he replies. “Oh, my Japanese is really broken, so I wouldn’t say I speak it, but I can understand it well enough.”

Leo makes a little excited noise as he turns to the little turtle with a huge smile. “That’s so cool! How did you learn it?”

“Oh, my dad’s Japanese,” Mikey says simply. “When I was little, I think he thought if he swore around me only in Japanese I wouldn’t understand it.”

Leo tilts his head to the side. “Gonna be totally honest with you, bud, I thought you learned it from Lou Jitsu movies, but–” he cuts himself off as an idea appears in his head and he just has to shout it out. “Is your dad Lou Jitsu?!”

“What?” Mikey laughs. “Where did that come from?”

The slider shrugs. “What? I don’t know, he could be. They’re both Japanese.”

Mikey shakes his head. “Leo, you saw him. He isn’t Lou Jitsu. Their ethnicity is basically the only thing he and the guy could be connected by. And he is literally a mutant. LJ isn’t a mutant.”

Leo rolls his eyes, half mocking, half just fond. He doesn't honestly believe his argument, of course, because he really saw Mikey’s dad and there is just no way he was the famous actor and super cool martial artist Lou Jitsu, but he would never give up an opportunity to lightheartedly argue with someone. “LJ also hasn’t been seen for the last like twenty years.”

The smaller turtle lets out an amused breath at that. Mikey is just about to open his mouth to say something, when suddenly a van speeds through a street next to the alley they’re standing in. Both of them turn towards the noise and hurry to see what is happening. All they see is the disappearing vehicle and the flying pieces of paper it leaves after itself.

Leo grabs his phone from one of his many pockets and types in some words awkwardly with only one hand, since the other one is holding his sword. He turns the screen towards Mikey with a grin on his face.

“Paper thieves?” He reads out the article, shooting a questioning glance at Leo. “What kind of people steal paper of all things? Besides, like, dreamers of course, but–”

Leo flicks him on the forehead, the other turtle letting out a pained noise and glaring at him with a pout. “People having the world’s biggest arts and crafts project, I assume. That was the fourth place they robbed.”

“Are there even any more paper shops in town?” Mikey wondered aloud, a plan already forming in Leo’s head. “I think that was literally the last one.”

“Or was it?”

***

Sneaking out at night is basically a weekly - in not more like daily - occurrence for April, so when she gets a simple text from Mikey asking her for help with something on a random Tuesday night, she agrees and grabs her bag without a thought. It’s Mikey we’re talking about here! Her little brother. Of course she would help with whatever, even if it is kind of an inconvenient time for her.

(She has a chemistry test the next day and even though she did study for it, she still doesn’t feel like she’ll do exactly well in it. She initially stayed up to try and get some additional information about carboxylic acids or aldehydes, but it’s not like she could actually comprehend any of it that late, so she has just been staring at her text books and trying not to cry herself to sleep on top of her desk.)

Mikey sends her his coordinates and after checking the way to go, she hops on her bike to get there faster. The place is not too far away, so she doesn’t need to use any kind of public transportation, but she still wants to get there as fast as she can.

When she sees the… she doesn’t even know how to describe it. There is a wall of haphazardly painted, moldy cardboard in between two buildings, made to look like a wall, with holes cut out to look like windows and everything. At least that’s what she guesses it’s supposed to resemble. She honestly doesn’t know. She didn’t even know mold could grow on cardboard.

She furrows her eyebrows and grabs her phone to text Mikey if she is in the right place, when she reads whatever is written at the top. ‘Leo’s paper hut’, all in bold, messy capital letters. This is definitely not Mikey’s writing, she knows that much. She has a tiny hunch who must’ve written it though.

April opens the ugly, rotting cardboard door and steps in, immediately getting ready for a scolding. “Leo, I swear to god if you’re keeping Mikey up this late at night, I–”

She stops in the middle of her rant as she finally gets a glimpse of Mikey, typing something happily into his phone with a wide smile on his face. April deflates when she sees that there are no signs of him being even remotely tired and he probably came here on his own accord with no nagging from the other mutant.

However… April sends a dangerous glare Leo’s way, making sure Mikey doesn’t notice even as she steps closer to him. “What’s going on here?”

Mikey looks up to her at that, his eyes shining with excitement even more, and April already knows that she is doomed and will not be able to say no to whatever they ask of her. The turtle practically jumps in her arms and gives her a quick, tight hug, then starts speaking. Fast.

“Ohmegosh, April! You won’t believe what just happened! Okay, so we were watching an LJ movie - Journey to Nowhere, by the way - and then Leo was all like,” he makes his voice deeper and strikes a pose, little stars seemingly appearing in the air around him as he tries to act like Leo. “‘We can be heroes’ and I was like ‘Whaaat’ and now we’re here.”

She feels like her brain is basically rebooting at the words as she tries to understand even half of what the turtle just said, then after a few seconds, she gives up and turns to Leo. “Can you translate for me?”

“We decided to catch the local paper thieves,” Leo shrugs.

April looks around, and she finally registers the fact that she is standing in between huge stacks of salami.

Salami.

“How exactly do you plan on doing that?” she asks suspiciously, Leo opening his mouth to answer when they hear tires screeching and he jumps up, grabbing Mikey by the shoulder and directing him to the back of the makeshift shop.

“That must be them! Go on, act as a cashier or something!” Leo mentions before they vanish behind a box.

April has barely enough time to turn towards the door, just as two men come in. One is shorter and skinnier, while the other looks like a bouncer to some fancy club. The girl plasters on her best customer-service smile - which is pretty damn good by the way - but she doesn’t even have enough time to make up and say a random welcoming speech before she’s grabbed by the shoulders.

***

Leo didn’t really think that the two random men would just grab April and tie her up to a pipe. He still doesn’t even know how they managed to do that in such a short time. Really, they only had a few seconds to do that, he’s sure it wasn’t even a full minute.

Nevertheless, the plan is in progress. After getting her down, he pulls out his phone from his pocket and checks it.

“I can’t believe they ran away again,” Mikey says sadly, but Leo’s quick to turn towards him as he shakes his device in his hand a little.

“Yeah, but now we know where they are, since I added you on Snap,” he mentions cheekily, watching as Mikey first beams at him, then furrows his eyebrow bones with confusion and pats himself over, looking for his own phone.

“Did you throw mine in the van?!” the smaller turtle asks, clearly agitated.

Leo simply shrugs. “We’ll get it back when we beat the bad guys.”

April dusts herself off and puts her hands confidentiality on her hips, for a second slightly glaring at Leo. If he’s honest, he can’t tell if that’s how she normally looks and she just has a RBF, or if she’s just not happy about shrugging Mikey’s concerns about his phone off.

“Let’s go then,” she says simply. “We go wherever they are, kick some ass and go to sleep. Right Mikey?” she asks, sending a similar glare towards the younger turtle. She seems to soften after a few seconds though, unable to keep up her scolding face as Mikey guiltily looks away. “Aw, come on bud. I’m just worried.”

Leo tilts his head to the side. “Are you usually asleep by this time?”

Mikey and April both look at him like he grew a second head, which makes him feel more on edge than he remembers ever feeling before. “By midnight? Yes.”

“When do you usually go to sleep, Leo?” Mikey asks him, voice somehow full both with suspicion and worry. Leo absolutely can’t handle that right now.

“When I’m tired,” Leo lies simply, trying to come off as nonchalant.

He is definitely in no shape to tell them about his personal problems, especially when it comes to his difficult relationship with sleeping. He’s lucky neither of them seemed to notice the bags under his eyes.

Or if they did, they were kind enough not to mention it.

***

Leo drops down confidently into the cold, hard bottom of the deck. April and Mikey jump after him a few seconds after, but he’s already taunting the enemies, his sword swinging slightly in his grip.

“It’s three against two, you should just give up,” he finishes his monologue with a confident grin that looks just a little fake to April’s eyes. She glances at the paper thieves in front of them, just looking them over with a surprised expression already on her face, when Mikey shouts.

“Woah! They’ve got footprints on their faces!”

And he’s right. In front of them, the two men with freakishly purplish skin each have a red footprint on their face, the top of their heads flaming. They look like some kind of comic book villains, absolutely ridiculous but surprisingly intimidating.

April is once again taken aback when the scrawnier one speaks up, his voice raspy and simply ruined. She can’t hold back a laugh as she explains.

“Seriously? The guy sounds like Alex Brightman trying to join The Chainsmokers!” she says, her shoulders shaking because of how much she’s laughing.

“Who?” comes Leo’s voice.

“The Chainsmokers?”

“No, I mean–”

And then a huge ninja is running towards him, Leo just able to step out of his way. He swings at his attacker, but just as the sword meets the big frame, the entity vanishes in a puff of air and small paper pieces begin to fall down on them.

“Confetti?” she whispers, catching a piece, while Mikey and Leo are flaring their arms around, panicking at the sight of the small falling objects. Mikey glances at her and snatches one too, tilting his head to the side.

“Oh, April’s right! It’s confetti! Why confetti?”

The girl looks at the bad guys, just in time to see the smaller one moving his hands in a rapid motion, paper shifting between crafty fingers until he throws it and multiple ninjas similar to the first one pop out, immediately starting to run towards them.

“That’s why,” she says grimly as she steps in front of Mikey. She doesn’t have any weapons with her, not even her bat, but she’s willing to fist fight the paper-ninjas if that means she can protect her little brother.

Mikey obviously doesn’t let her have all the fun, stepping next to her and sending her a light, mostly joking glare. They fight basically back-to-back with each other, covering blind spots and looking out for each other. It reminds her of when they were younger and basically just met, when Mikey explained that his dad was training him to be a ninja, and April - like any self-respecting twelve year old girl would - asked if she could train with him.

It turned out to not be much actual training and was more along the lines of watching Lou Jitsu movies with Splinter nodding along and saying the lines under his breath, but sometimes, he was actually willing to teach them some moves.

They’re holding their ground pretty well in April’s humble opinion, and when she glances towards Leo, he’s doing fine too, but after a while it becomes clear that the neverending swarm of ninjas attacking them is really, well, neverending.

“We’re getting nowhere fighting these guys, we gotta take out the source!” Leo shouts as he jumps down from the top, straight on top of a huge pile of paper. April is too occupied shredding a paper ninja to see how he rushes towards the villains, but she catches the huge paper-tornado that turns into a giant and grabs him.

She groans in disbelief that this situation actually managed to get even worse somehow. Leo struggles against the huge hands holding him, and while April is trying to come up with something to help him, she sees an orange blur as his little brother runs straight to danger. April watches in horror, basically frozen to the spot as the giant picks up Mikey with ease and punches its two hands to each other, the impact making a deafening sound that sends chills down her spine.

April feels her own hands twitch, then she finds herself placing one foot in front of the other, not even realizing that she’s running at first. Her eyes dart all across the room in search for something, anything and she finally sees it, redirecting her body towards the men with faces on their faces. One of them, the scrawny one, seems to be the one controlling the ninja, with his fists in the exact same position as the giant’s. He is just about to knock them to each other when the girl reaches him.

“Oh no you don’t.”

She kicks him in the face, sending him falling backwards onto his back, the impact dulled by the enormous amount of paper under him. April looks up towards his brother and once again feels an unfamiliar amount of fear tear at her heart as the ninja topples over too and Mikey falls.

“Mikey!” she screams as she tries to reach him, when the giant explodes into millions of pieces of paper and washes over her like a wave, sending her under it. She feels the blood rush into her ears, the feeling reminding her of the time she went surfing and went under a wave. She quickly kicks herself up with practiced movements and takes a deep breath, looking around, trying to find Mikey.

Leo emerges first, which simply just makes April’s blood boil. She may have thought he was cool at first, but now she’s just pissed off. He got them into this mess. If her little brother got injured, that’s gonna be on him and him alone. She goans and storms over to him, grabbing him by his shirt, her hands getting tangled in a necklace. Leo has a mostly surprised, but partly terrified expression on his face, which makes April feel a little better.

“I swear Leonardo, if Mikey is hurt because of you, I will skin you alive. One cut on his fingers from all this stupid paper and you’re a dead man,” she states, shaking him a little for good measure.

The next second, Mikey comes up from under the huge pile just a bit behind Leo and shakes himself off like he just went for a swim. April relaxes a little bit at the sight of him and Leo takes that as a sign that he can speak.

“I feel like we should handle the problem at hand first,” he says, looking behind April. She turns to see another ninja coming their way that Leo quickly takes out after she drops him. The turtle looks around frantically, searching for something while the girl keeps up the attackers coming their way.

“The sprinklers!” Leo says all of a sudden, pointing above them. Mikey’s face lights up as he grabs his weapon and starts up all of them with a well-aimed movement with it.

All the paper quickly soaks up the water and the ninja’s practically melt in front of April. That will surely appear in a few nightmares of hers, she thinks jokingly to herself, but she can’t help but feel glad that it’s all over now as she watches the villains escape.

Without hesitation, she turns to Mikey and practically runs to him, making sure that he really doesn’t have even any bruises anywhere. She makes him turn his head left and right to look for any possible injuries there, checks that none of her bones are broken and that there is no blood anywhere.

“April, I’m fine!” Mikey insists, just as the girl sends a glare towards Leo, who jumps up at the look. Luckily, Mikey doesn’t seem to notice.

“You sure Mike?” She asks for the last time, and when she gets a nod in response, she hugs the turtle, finally satisfied with the knowledge that everything’s okay now and he’s not injured.

Leo steps next to them with a smirk on his face, mildly irritating April with only his presence. “I’d say that’s a certified mission accomplished.”

The girl punches him on the arm and has to stop herself from putting him in a chokehold right then and there as Mikey wraps his arm around the other turtle and lets out a happy cheer. He starts rambling about how they are actual heroes now and how they could come up with cool names for themselves.

April and Leo share a look above his head and basically agree without words that whatever frustration they have between the two of them should not be subjected to Mikey. She swears to herself that she’ll have a talk with them separately, telling Mikey to be cautious and screaming at Leo for putting his brother in danger.

She doesn’t want to tell the two to not be friends, since Leo seems like a genuinely cool dude despite all the shit he pulled today, but as long as Mikey is safe, April is fine with him. Mikey could use some social interactions anyway, especially with someone closer to his age and interested in the things he likes.

April feels a headache emerging just thinking about what she’ll have to do to keep the both of them away from danger now.

***

Later, when she finally arrives home, sneaks into her bedroom without waking up her parents and changes back into her PJs, April tries to sleep. She trashes from side to side, trying to find a comfortable enough position, but something just keeps her up. She huffs and throws the blanket off of herself after over half an hour of struggling and goes to her desk.

She grabs his lighter and sits on her windowsill, her legs dangling dangerously above the streets of New York. She scoots just a little closer to the edge, feeling her heart rate jump a little in a familiar manner.

Today was scary, she thinks as she fidgets with the bright pink lighter. Usually she would be entirely down for some good old ass-kicking, even with Leo, but even just the idea of Mikey being hurt is able to make her feel sick. Today was not thrilling, like she first assumed it would be when Mikey texted her.

Today was scary.

Chapter Text

If Donatello’s being totally honest with himself, he doesn’t have the slightest clue if this was really the right choice. He tried telling Father that, but he supposes his own reasons are also valid for doing what he currently is. Still, he doesn’t like the fact that this woman is in their house.

“If she weren’t here, we wouldn’t even have a house,” his father tried reasoning with him when he first voiced his concerns. Donatello supposes he’s right about that, but that doesn’t help with the weariness and unease he feels when he’s next to her.

She might be helping them now, but he knows it’s dangerous to make a deal with her. Especially with her seeking Draxum out first. She may have offered to rebuild their home for one thing in return but Donatello can’t help but feel like they will somehow still get the shorter end of that metaphorical stick.

She moves through their home like it’s second nature, her stilettos clicking loudly on the floor with each step she takes. Her face is a mask of calmness with a soft smile that doesn’t falter even with two trained warriors following her every move. She’s dressed in a professional little outfit, a pencil skirt and blazer complimenting her perfect bun and spotless glasses. Somehow, even in their own home, she looks more powerful than the two of them combined despite being petite.

Donatello rubs at the bandages around his neck anxiously. She notices, her sharp eyes immediately turning to look at him. The turtle is bracing himself for anything she could say about it, his brain coming up with responses, but when she speaks, she surprises all of them.

“Sorry dear…” Donatello cringes at the term. “Could you tell me what’s in that inscrutable little room over there?”

Cold sweat runs down his spine as he realizes where she’s pointing. The dojo.

“Um,” he says lamely, his intellect he is so proud of suddenly vanishing. He’s a terrible liar. He glances at Father. He has his helmet on, so Donatello can’t even read his expression. It’s kinda freaking Donatello out, he’s used to seeing him without any gear in their house. “The kitchen?”

“You have two kitchens?” she asks back, his voice feeling a little mocking. Donatello closes his eyes. Of course. They already showed her the kitchen, how could he forget that?

She moves towards the room without saying another word, while Donatello is just left standing there, looking at the ground. He fucked it up. Father places a reassuring hand on his shoulder and shakes his head in a way to signal that Donatello shouldn’t blame himself but it doesn’t help.

They go after the woman without any exchanging of words despite the uneasy feelings they’re both harboring and there she is, looking at the glowing weapons on the far wall. Well, the remaining two. Her eyes are shining with a kind of mirth Donatello can’t believe could be possessed by someone who’s not some kind of villain or monster in a book. The kind father used to read to him. Like The Illustrated Demon Horde's Night Parade or The Maiden with the Wooden Helmet.

She takes off the tonfa that’s emitting a red hue and twirls it in her hands without asking if she could even touch it. Donatello feels a kind of rage from deep in his chest that he never experienced. He doesn’t understand himself, he knew this would happen, so why is he so mad?

He glances at Father, who’s only looking at the only remaining weapon and Donatello thinks he knows exactly what he’s thinking. They’re all gone now. All the prized weapons that were meant for the four of them, gone. Two of them in the hands of traitors while the others in the hands of strangers. She would probably give them to a Battle Champion. They’re gone.

“I think I’ll be taking this,” she says as she grins at the goat Yōkai, her teeth surprisingly sharp. “Pleasure doing business with you, Draxie.”

***

When Leo calls him up to ask if he wants to hang out, Mikey is overjoyed. At first, when he gave the guy his number, he kinda assumed he only asked for it to be polite and they would never see each other again, but he was wrong. He really hoped he would be wrong - he liked Leo. Even if he only met him a couple of days ago, he knew he was chill and fun and just seemed like a genuinely good person.

So when Mikey gets a text asking if he’s free, he immediately replies yes and sneaks out without thinking. April’s busy with school anyway. And it’s night. He can hear his dad snoring from the living room when he starts climbing up to the manholes. It’s fine. He won’t even notice.

When he meets Leo in a nearby alley, the other turtle is fighting what seems like overgrown silverfish, wielding his sword with more or less success. It looks like he even found something to conveniently carry it, since he has a flashy blue scabbard on his shoulder.

“Leo! Hey!” Mikey greets, accidentally distracting Leo which results in him being hit in the plastron and coming stumbling back towards Mikey. He comes to a stop in front of Mikey’s feet, splayed out on his shell and blinking up at the other mutant.

“Oh, hey there Mike,” he greets finally, a grin spreading on his face. “You should look out for the–”

The next second, the silverfish all jump on Mikey and effectively make him fall to the concrete. He grabs his own weapon and tries to hit them off, but somehow, that does not work in his favor in the slightest. Instead of the little mutants taking any damage, they just multiply. Mikey wants to relate it to some cool biology thing with cells and stuff, but he was never into microbiology, only entomology.

He blinks, and the ugly insects are gone, a wave of water cleaning them away. When he looks up he sees Leo standing next to a hydrant, one of the outlets completely chopped off.

“They do that,” he mentions with an easy, confident smile as he jumps next to the tiny wet mutants. Mikey has no idea what Leo must be on to try and get closer to them, while even him - the biggest bug fanatic ever - is trying to get away from them.

“Looks like these fish are…” Leo speaks up then cuts himself off with a chuckle. “Wait for it, you’re gonna love this… All washed up.”

Mikey glares at him as hard as he can. “Boo.”

***

Donatello’s kneeling in the middle of the dojo, his legs tightly under his body. He’s back in his comfortable clothes and out of the battle gear, his helmet sitting right next to him. Father looks exhausted, the bandages in his hands just like Donatello’s own around his neck and chest.

“My son,” he says, addressing the turtle with a confident yet somehow soft voice. He’s holding the last weapon in his hands, his hold on it probably a tad too tight given his white knuckles. It seems like the next words he says hurt him. “I think it’s time I finally gave you this.”

She left it. For some unknown reason Donatello fears he will never understand, she left the last weapon here. She only took the tonfa. Father says it’s suspicious of her, but Donatello feels like he couldn’t be anything but happy right now.

He reaches his arms out, the strange tool now directly in front of Donatello’s face. One of its ends resembles a kama-yari, while the other can only be described as a chigiriki in his opinion. The metal weight at the end of the chain looks like the one on a morning star would. He slowly takes it from Father’s hands. It's cold, but not uncomfortably so. It still feels strange in his hands though, one end noticeably heavier than the other one.

Father sits down in front of him, his back straight and his posture perfect, like it always is. Donatello instinctively straightens his own back, trying to mirror the Yōkai's grace.

"You already know what these weapons were meant for," he says with a tired voice. Donatello is not used to hearing him this exhausted. Even when he stays up at night to work over his newest project in his lab, he always drinks coffee and makes sure to get enough sleep after, unlike his son who tends to overwork himself. It’s scary seeing Father like this. So out of his element.

Donatello nods, willing the distracting thoughts about his father's well-being away. Of course he knows. These weapons were meant for them. For him and his siblings. They were all forged by Draxum himself, who even gave all of the items magical properties to strengthen them all. Not that they really needed strengthening. Father made sure they were the perfect warriors for the war against the humans.

The turtle looks down at the kama-yari with a newfound determination. He knows how much Father worked for this - not just the weapon, but for their cause and for him and his siblings. They just can't see it yet. They think Father is cruel and unnecessarily evil, but they just don't understand how all he's trying to do is save all of Yōkai-kind.

"Father," he says, looking up at the man in front of him. "About my siblings…"

The Yōkai sucks in a sharp breath. Donatello doesn't continue, just lets him interpret his open ended question whatever way he wants.

"I knew you'd ask about them," Father chuckles, but it feels off. Sad. "You know most. What else do you want to know? I obviously can't tell you about their current lives if that is what you're curious about."

Donatello does in fact know most. He knows how and why they were created, knows the formula of their mutagene by heart. He read all the documents Father kept on them, read the notes he used to scribble down whenever Donatello made progress in his training and studies. He wants to know more though. About what they're like, about where they've been all his life, about why they weren't there with him now. He's not sure Father could even deliver satisfying answers to those kinds of questions though.

"I just…" Donatello starts, his brain still booting up what to say. Father knows he struggles with words and emotions, so he waits patiently for his son to continue talking. Communication is key in their household, even if it doesn't come to either of them naturally sometimes. "I guess, I was just so used to thinking that all of them are dead,” he states plainly. “Now that I know at least two of them are alive, it’s hard to accept it.”

Father nods, his clenching on top of his thighs. “I certainly understand that. I feel the same way.”

Donatello bites his lips, feeling as his sharp teeth slightly dig into his flesh to the point of his mouth filling with the taste of copper. He glares at the floor like it personally offended him, unable to look into his father’s eyes. “Why aren’t they here then? Why didn’t they stay, now that we found them?”

Father sighs. “Donatello, I…” he cuts himself off, thinks of what to say, then slightly shakes his head as he admits defeat. “I’m afraid I can’t give you an answer for that. We could’ve come off the wrong way. Or they don’t even realize you are all related.”

Donatello supposes he’s right about that. He knows they are only because he’s seen pictures and descriptions of them all, but of course he would recognise the tiny box turtle with yellow patches on his scales as the same one they’ve just seen a few days ago. He might’ve missed the slider at first and thought it was some random kappa Yōkai, but only because he was hiding behind all those god-awful human clothes - and Donatello was pretty sure some of the information on him was wrong from the documents. When he spoke up with all that confidence though, Donatello became sure that it was the same turtle he’s seen so many times in their pre-mutation photos.

Determination fills his body as he processes the problem at hand and realizes that all he needs to do is tell them the truth. That they're his brothers. He needs to tell them about the human threat and their purpose as warriors and surely, they will understand. Plans and ideas are already forming in his mind, jumping to conclusions and alternatives for situations that didn't even happen yet.

"Oh no," Father says, making Donatello pause in his thinking as he looks up at him. "I know that look on your face."

Donatello tilts his head to the side and makes a little questioning noise.

"That's how you look before fixating on a project. Like with the mosquitoes," he explains further, with clearly no ill intent in his voice, however Donatello still gets defensive.

"Well, I finished them, didn't I? And they work perfectly."

"I never said they don't. And you did a great job with them, I'm proud of you for making them all by yourself," Father says calmly. Donatello can't help but feel that pleasant little pressure in his chest he feels whenever he's praised for something by his father.

The goat Yōkai is usually really generous with affection, offering praises and compliments to his son for basically anything. Maybe it's because he knows exactly well how anxious Donatello was back when he first started working on his own little projects when he was only six years old. Back then, a little push from his father into the right direction and a "Keep up the good work" or a "You're doing amazing, my son" was enough to set him straight. Now, he's confident when it comes to his ability to make his tech and passion projects, but it still feels good to be told he did a good job.

Father speaks up again. "But Donatello, if they still don't change their minds after they know the truth, you need to let it go."

The turtle doesn't understand. "Why wouldn't they?"

"They must have a family too, son. Someone had to take them in. It would only be logical to assume they might not want to leave them," Father explains what he means in a low tone, his voice hushed like he doesn't want to say this but feels that he has to.

Donatello looks at the weapon still in his hands. It's gotten warmer under his skin, but it doesn't feel more comfortable or right in his hands. He knows Father is right. It's only logical, like he said. Still, even though he knows he should be grateful for whoever that person is who raised his brothers, for keeping them alive so he could even meet any of his siblings, he just feels a bitter emotion he can't quite identify. All he knows is he wants his brothers with him, now that he knows there's a way to get them back home. There must be a way.

“Should we train or do you need some more time to heal?” Father asks softly, catching Donatello’s attention by slowly standing up. The turtle touches the bandages around his neck and nods when he feels no lingering pain.

“I think they can be taken off,” Donatello says as he stands up too.

Father reaches a hand out to his neck but pauses before he actually touches him. “Can I check them?” He only moves to take off the fabric around his son’s neck when the turtle gives an affirmative nod. The bandages come off with practiced ease under Father’s hands, but instead of the soft smile he usually gave Donatello after an injury from his projects, he’s left staring with an unusual confusion in his eyes.

“Is there something wrong?” Donatello asks, his hands wandering up his own neck to touch the cool skin and the new scars littering it. That’s when he registers it. Scars.

They're all over his neck, one or two even coming up to his jaw. He never had scars. They never stayed. He often burned or cut his fingers accidentally while working with metal, but he never had long-lasting injuries. His healing was too fast and too strong for that. Father made sure they all got better healing abilities than an average human or even Yōkai, back when he mutated them. It made sense, of course, just like everything he does. It's a clear advantage in battle if your soldiers don't have to stop fighting because they've been cut one too many times if their skin literally sews itself back together. So far it has always worked.

"Let's go to the lab," Father says, a worried frown on his face. "I can run some diagnostics. Maybe it just needs a few more days."

Donatello wants to believe him. He wants to believe him so bad it hurts but somehow he can't. It feels like he swallowed something the wrong way as his nerves scream at him like they've been ever since Father got injured. Because Father was never hurt. Donatello could count on one hand how many times he's seen the Yōkai in serious pain. And he only has six fingers in total.

He complies however, maybe because of his longing to believe what Father is saying. But as he frets around the lab and takes Donatello's blood to start running tests on it, the turtle can't help but feel a sense of dread climbing up his spine.

"Woah, what's the big commotion about, Boss?" Huginn asks, flying into the room. Soon enough Muninn follows him, their tiny wings now fluttering in unison. When they see the turtle sitting on a countertop, they fly over to him with their eyes shining with an unusual, worried edge.

"Are you feeling okay, Dee?" Muninn questions immediately, flying all around Donatello's head.

"I feel quite alright, Muninn," the turtle confirms. "However…" he trails off, not knowing how to finish the sentence. Instead, he just touches his throat and lets the gargoyles figure it out on their own.

Huginn's eyes light up with understanding first and he immediately turns to Father, who's holding two vials of colorful fluids in them. He carefully adds one of them into the container of blood and has enough time to react and take a step back before Huginn crashes into his body.

"Boss, why does Dee have scars?" he asks, to which Father's only answer is a growl at first.

"I am trying to figure that out too," he rasps out as he grabs Huginn on the back of his neck and sends him flying through the air. The gargoyle recovers quickly and returns to Donatello's side. "Personal space," Father reminds him.

"Sorry Boss," Huginn sends back half-heartedly over his shoulder. It's pretty clear he's not sorry in the slightest. Instead, he's too busy being worried about Donatello. "Have you been eating enough?"

"Drinking enough water?" Muninn chimes in. The turtle opens his mouth but he's stopped before he could even speak. "You know coffee doesn't count."

"Nevermind then," he mutters.

"We keep telling you that you can't just eat umeboshi by itself," Huginn complains. "You should probably eat rice with it."

Muninn nods along. "And the same goes for seaweed. It's healthy, but it's not filling. 2500 calories a day, boy. That's how you build muscle."

Donatello is left looking from one goyle to the other, his head swimming a little with the movement. Father steps up just in time to push Huginn and Muninn away and give his son more room to breathe. Really, he loves the gargoyles a lot. They're family, in a weird way admittedly, but he grew up with them. He cares about them and he knows they deeply care for him in return, like two strange uncles. But sometimes, they can be just a tad bit too irritating.

"Stop stressing him for goodness sake," Father tells the gargoyles. "Donatello eats whatever he wants, whenever he wants. We talked about this. Also, what he eats does not interfere with his healing. That's from mystic energy, not the kind you get from food, and if he's running out of that, there would be some way more serious problems, not just a few scars."

Father shakes his head, and crosses his arms in front of his chest, readying himself for a serious scolding. Huginn and Muninn must recognize that too, because they look at each other then start pleading the Yōkai at the same time.

"We're so sorry Boss," Huginn starts.

"We didn't want to stress Dee," Muninn continues. "We are just…"

"So worried!" They finish in unison.

"Let us help with the tests, or something," Muninn says, his voice wavering with a bit of uncertainty.

"Yeah, let us make it up to you!" Huginn agrees.

Father sighs. "Fetch me a cup of coffee. I need it if you two insist on being here until the tests are all finished," he looks at Donatello, his eyes softening. "Anything for you? Not coffee. They might have a point about that one."

The turtle thinks for a moment, then nods and settles on something. "Sour candy."

***

Leo has absolutely no idea how it got to this point. He never thought this would happen. He didn’t even know who this weird pig mutant guy could be before Mikey revealed that apparently he was a world famous chef. And he certainly didn’t think he’d try to eat them.

The silverfish? Maybe. You never know, people have weird tastes, especially chefs… Or so he imagines. He actually never met a chef in real life before, but if all of them are like this one, he’s glad this is his first experience with them. Little 5-year-old Leo would have just ran away screaming if he ever met someone like this.

This is just crazy. This is not what he signed up for. This is different from fighting off a few small silverfish. That’s fun.

This? This is scary.

Leo does not like this in the slightest. Mikey is captured, and really, what is Leo supposed to do? He was lucky he could run away. And now he should just be willingly going back to that ugly mutant guy to try and save Mikey, while risking his own life? No, absolutely not. He needs a plan and he needs it now.

His phone rings, with Mikey’s name on it and he picks it up in hopes of the other turtle saying he somehow got away. He picks it up, bringing it to his ear when–

“Where are you!?” comes the scream from the other end. “Leo, I swear to God, I only knew you for a day and a half but if you let me die here, I’ll haunt you forever.”

Leo winces. Somehow, even if he doesn’t really believe in ghosts himself, he feels like Mikey would actually manage to do that somehow and make his life unbearable as a specter.

“I’ll get you out of there, Mikey,” Leo says hurriedly, clutching his phone harder in his hands. He just realized how scary Mikey can be. Geez. He makes a mental note to never anger the little guy again. “I just need a plan.”

***

"Stress," Father says simply. He's standing in front of Donatello, with his test results in hand, looking over all the data. "You're stressed so the mystic energy can't flow through you like it usually does."

Donatello, evidently, does not entirely understand how mystic energy works. He has an idea about it, sure, but he wants to know logistics, not just that they relate to your emotions. Because that is dumb. Nothing in science should be explained by just that information. But somehow, every Yōkai acts like it's normal, like mystic powers are just there and nobody ever questioned how they work. He thinks it's ridiculous.

"Does that mean…" Huginn starts, but doesn't finish his sentence.

Father nods. "The scars will stay. They cannot reopen or rip because your healing still works just fine, but they won't entirely fade like they usually do."

"What about scars in the future?" Donatello asks, pressing his hands into the cold counter. "Do I have to be extra careful now?"

Father shakes his head. "By stressed, I mean more like," he thinks for a second. "In life threatening danger. You working in the lab or tripping and bruising your knee are relatively safe compared to that little stunt you did."

Donatello looks to the side. He doesn't understand why Father would scold him for simply saving his life. He helped. Sure, the broken off part of the ceiling fell on Donatello, since he pushed Father from under it, but he knew what he was doing. He had his battle shell on. It's made out of metal that is supposed to be almost indestructible. It did eventually crack under the pressure, but it kept him alive. And instead of thanking him, when Father used his vines to get him out from under the rubble, he scolded him for risking his life.

"Alright," Donatello nods finally. "Can we train now?"

Father looks at him, surprised. Donatello tilts his head to the side. "I assumed you would like to spend some time reading your books or playing chess. You know, so you're not so stressed?"

Muninn chimes in, his voice just as confused. "Are you feeling okay Dee? Do you have a fever? Are you hallucinating?"

Donatello presses the back of his hand to his forehead but he doesn't feel like it's any hotter than usual. He doesn't think he's hallucinating. Does he act like he's feeling sick right now? He looks back up at Muninn, but realizes he didn't mean it literally when he sees his expression. "Oh, you weren't serious."

Father talks again, gaining Donatello's attention once more. "Are you sure you want to train? Maybe it would be better to–"

Donatello cuts him off. "I am. I want to try out my new weapon. Besides, it's a part of my routine."

He also just doesn't want to think of the implications of this newfound knowledge of him being able to have permanent scars. Donatello knows he tends to overthink everything. He feels like maybe it's one of those times, but he knows how counterproductive sealing himself off in the lab would be, so he latches onto the idea of training. He can do that. It's always good to move his body a little. Sure, maybe he doesn't do it very willingly, most of the time, but it really is a part of his everyday life.

Father nods in understanding as he hums slightly. "Alright, if you're sure. Don't overwork yourself though. I'll be with you in a second."

Donatello goes to his room and quickly puts on his battle armor. He feels surprisingly relieved when his metal shell is finally on his back again, the pressure on his shoulders reassuring in a way he never expected it would be. He leaves the helmet on his bed. He goes to the dojo and picks up the kama-yari he left on the floor and looks over the weapon.

After a moment of hesitation, he tries to spin it in his hands like he would his bo staff, but the chain and morning star at the end catch him off guard and he almost hits himself in the face with it. That’s the exact moment Father walks in, because of course it is. Donatello looks at him, then at the weapon. He feels so stupid all of a sudden, even if somewhere in the back of mind he knows mastering a new skill is hard. Father reminds him of just that immediately, seemingly sensing his worries.

“This might be difficult at first, but you’ll get the hang of it,” he says, stepping up to his son. He has his armor on as well now, minus his helmet. They never put those on when they’re just training at home. There’s no need to, with no real danger. “You can retract the chain, by the way.”

Donatello blinks a few times, then points the blade of the weapon down and looks at the bottom. “Uh, what?” Donatello asks. “Where does it go? There’s no place for it, this is not hollow–” he stops, realizing what that means. “It’s mystic magic.”

Father nods with an amused little smile on his lips. “It’s mystic magic.”

Donatello shakes his head and tries to bury the rage he’s feeling all of a sudden with little to no success. “How exactly am I supposed to do this?” he asks but before his father can answer, he elaborates. “And don’t just say it responds to emotions, Papa.”

Father chuckles, but not in a mean way. The sound is one Donatello recognises as purely amused. Father used to laugh like this when his son was only learning how to walk and he kept falling. “I used to struggle with it too, don’t worry. It doesn’t quite make sense.”

“It makes no sense,” Donatello corrects grumpily.

“Give it to me, I’ll show you how I’d do it,” Father says. The turtle slowly places the yari in the goat Yōkai’s hands and steps back.

Father closes his eyes as he twirls the weapon in his hands for a second or two, the metal humming with a slight, purple glow. The morning star doesn’t even come close to hitting his face, and when he’s done and finally lowers the yari, the chain is indeed retracted. Donatello stares, which he knows is rude under normal circumstances but how could he not?

“So,” he starts, confused. “What just happened? What did you do?”

“I suppose,” Father thinks about his choice of words. “You just need to think about it like it’s a part of your body. When you want to move your leg, you don’t need to consciously order your brain to do it.”

Donatello looks at his father, raising his eyebrow bones. “I do hope you realize that does not make sense to me.”

Father shakes his head and hands the weapon back to him. “Just try it. Also, my advice might not help you a lot. Everybody’s mystic powers manifest differently. What seems normal to me might be impossible for you and vice versa.”

The turtle thinks over the words. He really tries to understand what Father means, however he can’t. He doesn’t think he ever will. Still, he tries to take the advice as he lowers himself into a stance and spins the spear in a wide range, just like he would usually with his tech bo. He misses the buttons he could press on it. The texture is too smooth. Despite the chains apparently just vanishing out of thin air, he still feels like it’s all unbalanced.

The frustration he feels rises up from his chest like it became a physical entity and moves down his arms, making his fingers pulsate with energy. He only sees the slightly see-through, purple objects when he slams the yari on the floor, its blade pointing up towards the ceiling.

“Is that…” Father starts, looking at the purple light next to Donatello’s head. “A rocket launcher?”

The image flickers and disappears before Donatello could take a good look at it. What just happened? Did he actually do it? Is he better at this than he anticipated?

“What was that?” he questions Father.

“Like I said, it looked like a rocket launcher,” the man repeats, then hums. “Interesting. When I made the weapon I only made vines with it. I suppose that’s a personal touch from your mystic powers. Good job, son.”

Donatello looks at his hands holding the yari. He can do this. It’s actually possible, even if he doesn’t fully understand what he’s doing. Now all he has to do is practice it and perfect whatever he just did. He spins the object in his hands, repeating the motions again and again, like he’s fighting an imaginary enemy.

He does it until his muscles burn and his feet feel sore from the hard ground of the dojo.

***

This might be a stupid plan, but it’s a plan nonetheless and that’s all Leo needs. It also may or may not depend on this guy being a huge idiot though, but that’s fine. Leo’s good at thinking on the spot, when he needs to. He’ll figure it all out when the time comes, he’s sure.

He successfully distracts the guy (he really was an idiot) and gets Mikey, then starts running. That’s kinda where his plan ended. He forgot to think about what would happen if that big hunk of meat actually followed him and kept up with him. He didn’t really calculate for that. He puts down Mikey behind a pillar in hopes of releasing him from his bindings, but he doesn’t have enough time for it before the mutant arrives.

Leo quickly unsheathes his ōdachi and steps in front of the pig. He looks around himself, looking for anything he could use here before remembering just where they were. Of course. How did he not think of this before? It’s so simple.

He jumps around the large man to get his attention in hopes that he would forget about Mikey. “Hey, big guy!” he shouts at him. “Why did the pig die?”

The mutant turns his head slightly in a questioning way as he takes a menacing step in Leo's direction. The turtle steps back before finally feeling the slight shake of the ground underneath his feet. He grabs his sword tighter and swings as he finishes his one-liner.

“Because he was boar-ed to death!”

A portal opens under the man, then another in the middle of the rails. Just as he finally starts to realize what happened, a subway train speeds through the station and gets rid of him, effectively finishing their fight.

Just like Leo planned.

***

Donatello’s sitting on the ground, panting a little with sweat running down his face. The spear is next to him, just laying there and mocking him. He glares at it like it personally offended him. This is ridiculous.

“I told you not to overwork yourself,” Father sighs as he hands him a glass of water that Donatello gladly takes and drinks all of it in a matter of seconds. Maybe that was a bad idea, but it seems that today he is just full of those. All the water in his stomach makes him even more nauseous than he already is. He falls back on the floor, the metal of his battle shell hitting the ground.

“I just thought–” he struggles out, then takes a big gulp of air. He shouldn’t feel this tired. This is crazy. He’s never this tired after training. “I thought I could do it again,” he admits bitterly.

He has a certain taste in his mouth that he can't quite identify. He doesn't know it's because of how exhausted he's feeling and because he really did overwork himself or if it's related to his emotions, but he doesn't like it. He thought he could do it. At least one more time. He thought he could control his mystic powers and do what he did at the beginning. He failed.

Donatello slowly sits up, brushing his fingers against his aching throat. He hates that despite Father trying to teach him how to control his breathing properly, he never could. What he hates even more are the ragged texture of the scars. He forgot about them for a bit. But now that he's reminded, now that he remembers why he really wanted to train that bad, he just feels worse about himself.

Father must notice it, because he reaches out with a hand to help him stand up. He usually never does that - not because he doesn't want to but because he knows Donatello is capable of standing up on his own. The turtle - unlike usual for himself, too - takes it and stands up on shaky legs.

"Come with me to the roof, son," Father says, not letting go of his hands for a brief second, only squeezing them harder, before turning to the door of the dojo and walking out with Donatello close behind him.

He didn't realize it was nighttime while he was training. He has a tendency to not realize time passing when he's too focused on something, especially when he likes doing it. But now, as they make their way to the roof, he can see how dark it really is. In the distance, the entire Hidden City is lit up in warm lights, yellows and reds dancing along the night sky. The Battle Nexus's glow is the brightest of them all, even though they probably haven't gotten to the victory fireworks yet. It still must be around nine or ten in the evening and those don't usually come out until at least midnight.

Father sits down on the roof on a pillow that has been there for ages. Donatello joins him on his own, purple one. This was his favorite as a child and he still feels attached to it, even if he grew a little too big for it and he has to hug his knees to his plastron to sit comfortably. He doesn't mind.

Donatello looks up at the ceiling above the Hidden City, the ground that separates them from humans. He watches the little glowing stars flicker on it, just like he did the first time Father brought him up here. He was only four years old, but he remembers it. He was fascinated by them, wanted to learn how they work, and how the humans' stars looked compared to them. Now, he stares at them just like all those years ago and finally feels some kind of pride as he thinks of their mission.

It won't take long and those two will be the same. His stars and the humans' stars won't be separated, because they will be living topside after dealing with the human threat.

Father speaks up softly. "Do you remember what I told you the first time I brought you up here?"

Father said a lot of things. About how the Hidden City thought he was insane and reckless. About how he liked to come up here and relax. Donatello remembers all of it, so he nods.

"You said the Council is thinking of abducting you," Donatello replies, since that feels like the most important thing Father mentioned back then. He assumes that's what he's talking about.

Father laughs and shakes his head. "I don't mean that. Remember what I said about liking the stars down here?"

Donatello replies without thinking. "That you like them because there's no risk of them ever exploding and…" he trails off. He knows the other reason, but this moment is getting a bit too sentimental for his liking.

"And because they remind me of you," Father says softly, turning to him. "Because once our mission is done, you can look at the real ones all the time."

Father leaves out a part. Donatello assumes it's because he’s embarrassed about it. He thought his son couldn't exactly comprehend everything the Yōkai said back then, and since Father's been reminded time and again that he actually did, he feels a little reluctant to lower his guard like he used to. He doesn't call Donatello "My shining star" like he did back then.

"And now we're so close," Father sighs as he keeps looking up at the ceiling full of Yōkai-made lights, his tone and face more content than Donatello has seen in the last few days. He doesn’t want to ruin the peaceful, happy mood, he really doesn’t but…

"But my brothers…" It simply bursts out of Donatello. He didn't want to mention them. He wasn't even thinking about them until now.

"If they’re anything like you, your brothers might try to stop you at first, but they would never harm you, that much I know," Father says with a certain kind of calm confidence that Donatello can only dream of ever achieving. "But I'm certain once they know you're related their attitude will change."

Donatello touches his neck absently. He doesn’t even think about the motion, but when his fingers finally make contact with the scars, he’s reminded of how exactly he got them. Father almost died because of his brothers. He was lucky to survive that. But somehow he feels like he won’t be able to hold that grudge against them, even if he really wanted to. They’re his brothers. A bigger part of him is so relieved and so happy that he finally met them and they’re here, they’re alive…

The scars are just an annoying reminder.

If he raised the neck-line of his battle armor a bit, he could…

“You know, son,” Father says softly to get Donatello’s attention. He glances at the man, who’s looking through the night sky, his expression leaving a bit of its usual guarded edge. “Scars are the sign of a warrior. They show the battles you’ve been through.”

“Why are you saying this all of a sudden?” the turtle asks.

“I raised you, Donatello, I would like to believe that I know how you think,” Father says, still not looking at him. “By now you’ve probably started thinking about how you could cover them up. I’m just saying you shouldn’t.”

Donatello looks away as well, his own walls raising as he replies without thinking about it. “You cover yours.”

Father takes in a sharp breath and Donatello realizes what he just said. He stays silent, wondering about how he could fix the mistake he just made, and maybe hoping the ground will open up under him and swallow him whole. He knows it’s a sensitive subject for Father, he knows he dislikes talking about it. Donatello opens his mouth to try saying something - anything - to make this better, but the man beats him to it.

“We both know my scars are from a different type of battle than yours,” Father says quietly. Donatello bites his lips. “They’re still a big part of me. However they’re not something to show around like scars you gain from simply fighting for your cause.”

Donatello nods absently. He’s seen Father’s scars before, of course he has, and he knows exactly what he means. The long, badly healed slashes across the Yōkai’s back are from a past Donatello has limited knowledge about. Father never talks about it and he understands why. It’s one of the only taboos in their household, one of the only things they never talk about. Donatello didn’t want to disturb that peace of theirs, he really didn’t, it just slipped from his mouth.

“But Donatello,” Father continues. “Your scars are nothing to be ashamed of. You might think they’re a show of weakness, but I promise you, they’re not.”

“Scoff,“ the turtle mumbles under his breath, not believing what his father is saying at all. “That’s not how I see it.”

“Do you think I’m weak because of my scars?” Father asks, finally looking at Donatello, who just turns his head towards him with a confused look on his face.

“What? No, of course not–” he says immediately. Father smiles at him in a way that means he knew this would be the answer and Donatello realizes why. “Oh.”

“Do you see what I mean?” Father asks softly, placing a hand on Donatello’s shoulders. He does it without asking but he leaves enough time for his son to move away from the physical contact in case he doesn't want to be touched. Donatello stays in place, the warmth and weight of the man’s hand a welcome feeling at the moment. “Even if you don’t believe this coming from yourself, believe it when I say it. Your scars don’t make you weak.”

Donatello sometimes forgets how amazing Father is. He gets too used to perfect and then when he’s reminded of just how great the man he’s glad to call his father is, he is left wondering about how the Yōkai in front of him can be all that he is. A strong warrior, one of the best alchemists to ever exist, with a mind that can be challenged by no one and a leader of a plan to save their kind. Donatello doesn’t understand how a person can be all that and a father.

He’s remembering why he insisted on Father training him so early on. To be like him. He started making his own tech so Father could be proud and because it made Donatello feel like he was living up to his greatness.

But he was never great with words like Father. He never understood what people needed from him in a conversation. He can’t comfort people like Father always comforts him. Father is right. The scars don’t make him weak. But Donatello hears the unheard part, that he just knows deep in his bones is here. Scars don’t make him weak. Other things do. And what is Donatello even good for if he can’t live up to his father? Is he deserving of this? Of Father’s kindness? His legacy?

Father continues on, not realizing Donatello’s rethinking his entire life in front of him. “These scars are simply a reminder of your battles. About what you’re fighting for. They don’t mean that you’re weak because you got them, they mean you’re strong.”

“What?” Donatello struggles out, his breath caught in his throat.

“They show your dedication. That you’re willing to stand up and continue fighting,” Father squeezes his shoulder gently. “They show your strength, my son.”

Donatello stares at his father, the words running back and forth in his head, echoing through it, then seemingly sticking to the walls of his brain and making a new home for themselves, carving out a piece of Donatello’s mind. They show your strength. Donatello should not be ashamed, he should be proud. Father is proud and is currently reassuring him about his worth as a warrior.

He touches his neck, his fingers brushing the ragged edges of his new scars as he really thinks it over and lets the idea settle. Father is right. Donatello won’t hide these. He’ll keep the neckline of his battle armor just as high as it is currently. There’s no need for any change. He’s a warrior. He’ll show the world exactly that.

“Papa,” Donatello starts, not even sure what exactly he wants to say. He takes his hand away from his neck and instead hugs his legs closer to his plastron with it, then slowly puts his chin on his knees. He lets out a breath he didn’t realize he has been holding for days as he looks up to the glowing little stars all across the Hidden City’s roof. “Thank you.”

***

With a ringing in his tympanum, he takes in a deep breath, staring at the familiar terrain in front of him. He needs a few seconds to get his quickly beating heart under control, but when it’s finally down to a relatively normal beat, he looks up, straight at the lights shining in his face.

As the adrenaline levels in his body subdue, he finally begins hearing more than just the sharp ringing and focuses on the noise. The shouts. The cheering.

He reaches a fist into the air, the metal of his weapon shining in the night and the crowd grows wild. A slow smile appears on his face but immediately vanishes when he sees the blood running down his forearm. Right, he got injured. He forgot about that. That’s gonna leave a nasty scar.

He looks towards where the brightest light is pointing and sees his opponent’s body. They’re still moving, the Yōkai trying to get up on their hands and knees. He moves towards them with precise steps, seeing the fear in their eyes when they finally look his way and realize they’re not done yet. That this isn’t over.

He stops in front of the Yōkai, standing over them and taking it all in for a second. The way they shake, the blood running down their chest, their sharp claws tainted with his own. He imagines how many more people's blood could be on their hand.

"Do you regret it?" he asks, sneering down at them. They only look back with confusion in their eyes.

"What?" they ask, then, when he doesn't even bother to repeat the question, they burst out laughing, the sound cold and scratchy. It grates on his tympanum, bringing back the ringing from before. It's clearly hard for them to speak but they struggle out a few sentences. "What is this? Some elaborate, big-scale punishment? Who do you even think you are?"

This is it. He clenches his fist around his weapon and spins it in his hand, the sharp blade now facing down as he reaches up with his arms held above his head. He keeps it there for a few seconds, letting the Yōkai really look at it before he responds. He grabs the handle with each hand, the metal shining in the many lights surrounding them, the promise of his next move settling in the air.

"The Red Angel."

Chapter Text

There is something about New York that fascinates people on the regular. The crowds, the sights, the food… At first he suspected that was exactly what he adored about the city, too. A good tea he could grab from any teahouse without fearing he might get recognized. The array of people to get lost in when he just wanted to take a walk.

He realized that wasn't the case at all. It was the unknown that attracted him to the concrete filled streets of the city above his home. He loved that he could never tell what was going to happen - at least, that was how it used to be. When he was younger, he hated his daily trainings in the morning, his lunches that he spent with his teachers and even the lessons they gave him. He couldn't sit still, he wanted to move and do things the way he wanted when he wanted. He hated the strict schedule he lived under.

Even now, he has those days when sitting still is just too exhausting, but unlike back then, he can just call the lessons off and go topside to work off some energy.

He taps the gem on his scarf before he steps out from an alley, the security of the cloaking device settling on his shoulders. He's used to seeing his body turn a different color, of the sudden feeling of hair on his shoulders. He's used to all of it. It's starting to become rather boring.

Being in a human body was cool at first, but now, after several years of going to the surface fully disguised as a regular kid from New York, it's old news. He's not excited like he used to be whenever his Ma took him out. It's becoming monotone and he absolutely hates that something he used to enjoy so much has become the norm. It's annoying.

Maybe - just maybe - that’s why he started looking out for that human girl. He still has no idea what her name is, he is really not that desperate for excitement to actually start stalking the poor soul, but whenever he accidentally comes across her, he keeps an eye out. She seems oddly strong for an ordinary human. Also more prone to trouble. Ever since he made the decision to watch out for her, he had to stop a dude who tried to pickpocket her, another from getting into a fistfight with her and a cloaked Yōkai child from getting discovered.

And it has only been two days.

He has no idea who this girl is, besides that she somehow knows those two kappa Yōkai he saw before, but he is sure there was something going on with her.

Just like those times, he stumbles into the most random location by wandering on the streets and she is just right there. He is beginning to think he’s going insane at this point. Is he actually following her somehow, without noticing it? He leans out the door and checks the name of the place, since he’s pretty sure he has never even been here before. He just saw the cool neon signs and came in, expecting it to be an arcade or something.

He looks up at the sign and grimaces. What the hell is Albearto's?

***

In all honesty, Mikey has no idea what he's doing here. He’s mostly emotional support for April who called him, shouting-crying on the phone, about how she didn’t want to be fired from a job and needed help ASAP. Again. Mikey was never a lot of help, except that one time when she was walking dogs for a few bucks an hour, but at least he was there to pat his sister on the back and say that everything would be fine, when everything else failed.

He would never tell April negative things and be pessimistic, of course - it simply wasn’t in his nature. He always encouraged her and told her she could do anything because he actually believed that. April was amazing. If she set her mind on something, she could do anything she wanted with only her sheer determination, Mikey was sure of it.

He looks down on the malfunctioning, glitchy animatronic in front of him as he sucks in a sharp breath. April could do anything and this surely is something, he supposes.

“Okay, so,” he thinks of what to say, anything that could make the situation better. “It could be worse.”

“Literally how?” April asks, lying on the floor in her already dirty uniform and contemplating her life. Mikey looks at the patch of reddish brown on her sleeve and thinks about asking if it was blood or just dirt. Or cake, that’s also a possibility. Red velvet is a thing, even if it's an abomination of cake and everybody should hate it and decide it doesn’t deserve to exist and wipe it from their memory. Defeating red velvet cake could solve world peace, in Mikey’s humble opinion.

“Uh,” he struggles out, thinking of what they were even talking about. “The whole place could be on fire? That happened before, right?”

April hurriedly sits up. “Don’t jinx it!”

Mikey doesn’t know if he should laugh or not, but he does so regardless. April glares at him. “Sorry, sorry, just… What even happened with this thing?”

“I don’t know,” she flops back down to the ground and sighs. “He started being all weird and stopped in the middle of a song. I mean, sure, he gets a surprising amount of soda in his circuits, like, every second day, but he was always fine before,” she explains.

Mikey squats down next to Albearto’s metal shell and looks over the unmoving body. He finds a hatch which he assumes is where all the wires are and opens it with caution. He hopes he can somehow fix it, but as he looks it all over, it becomes quite clear that he can’t. This is not like the TV at home that he only has to smack on the top of it a few times and maybe mess with the wires a little. This seems complex.

April continues her monologue while Mikey loses all hope. “I did not sign up for fixing the creepy animatronics, no sir. But with my luck, it really will be only five nights here. I will get fired. This is it… Please tell me he hasn’t moved, actually. At this point, I would prefer him to stay in one place.”

Mikey stands up and looks around the room, trying to find something they could use as a replacement. Maybe they could just ditch Albearto altogether, even if it kinda defeats the purpose of the franchise. That’s when he sees movement from the corner of his eye and immediately jumps up into the air and scurries away, hiding behind the robot bear.

“Mikey, what–” April begins to ask as she jumps up as well, but immediately freezes when she sees a tall boy, just standing there in front of her. “I mean,” she clears her throat and puts on her best customer service voice. “This place is for employees only. If you don’t mind, can you please…”

The guy cuts him off.

"I just saw that, um," he looks towards the animatronic, exactly in the direction Mikey is hiding in. "That robot of yours," he says, tone not at all convincing. "It malfunctioned, didn't it? I could help."

***

This is such a dumb idea. Why did he even step into the room that is clearly labeled for employees only and now why is he talking to a human girl of all people? He was just, well, kinda following the little turtle around and he ended up here. He doesn't even know where 'here' is.

Donatello is screwed.

"You're, what, a scientist?" the girl says, looking him over. He thinks he could imagine now what a bug would feel like under a microscope. "Sorry dude, not buying it. You're my age. Are you a Purple Dragon, or something? It would make sense with the outfit."

He looks down on his clothes for lack of a better thing to do, her words swimming in his head. Purple Dragon? What does that even mean? His cloaking device isn't messing this up for him, right? No, he still looks like a human. Nothing is wrong with his outfit, it’s completely normal. He thinks. He likes human fashion - it’s one of the only things they actually managed to not mess up - but some trends he absolutely does not understand. Are his clothes really that weird?

When the girl has enough of his silence, she sighs. "Look, I appreciate the thought, whoever you are, but I'm sure a little knowledge from whatever robotics club you go to won't solve my problem."

Donatello feels one of his eyes tick. Is she… looking down on him? Who does she think she is? Even better, who does she think he is? Someone she can just joke about and laugh at? He thinks not.

***

This is bad. Very, very bad.

Mikey starts to sweat as the random guy comes closer without any prompting to do so. He scoots closer to the ground in fear of being discovered, hoping that the animatronic is hiding him well enough. He sees April's face go red with anger as she takes a step closer too and opens her mouth, but the guy beats him to it.

"Scoff," he says, looking over his shoulder to her. "You really think I can't fix this? It's just wires. This is way easier than what I usually work with," he continues, squatting down to start messing with the circuits.

Mikey barely manages to not let out a shriek as he realizes he can actually see the boy’s face and just tries harder to not be seen. He seems too focused on the robot to really notice him though, so Mikey looks over him with part excitement, part fear. He usually can't come close enough to humans in real life to take a good look at them besides April, and she has a relatively laid back style and is now so familiar for him that Mikey doesn’t even question her fashion choices.

This guy looks way more interesting. He has dark eyes, but somehow they feel almost colorful in the light, one more red and the other more blue, like 3D glasses. His face has some asian characteristics, his eyes a mongoloid shape with long eyelashes. He has big, dark eyebrows and dual colored lips though, that matches his darker skin tone. There are a few scars running down his neck and jawline, disappearing under a black graphic t-shirt. He has braids, with little silver accessories and gems in it. He's wearing purple headphones around his neck, which matches his baggy purple pants.

He looks familiar, in a way.

The boy does something with the wires while April is too stunned to speak, just looking at the stranger with her eyes wide. Mikey flinches when the human stands and the robot starts moving. He jumps up immediately, forgetting for a second that the guy is absolutely not supposed to see him. The next second, he's left staring into mismatched, red and blue eyes.

The guy doesn't look surprised though. Instead he lamely waves a hand and lets out a little "Oh, hi there."

"Uh," April mutters, then shouts and points in a random direction, her voice cracking a little. "Look! A distraction!"

The boy looks away only for a second, which gives just enough time to Mikey so that he can try and jump up to the pipes at the ceiling of the room, hanging from them in the exact same way a sloth would. Guy In Purple looks back, despite April jumping on his back and trying to tackle him.

“Did you actually think that would work?” he asks, an eyebrow quirked. Mikey sighs. Yeah, not really, he thinks, but he would never admit that, even to a total stranger.

“It was worth a try,” he says instead, jumping down and landing neatly on the ground.

April follows his lead, finally stopping clinging to the boy's back and instead stepping next to Mikey with her arms crossed in front of her chest. "Okay, how are you not freaking out about this whole situation?"

The guy tries to act nonchalant by shrugging and looking away. It does not work, especially with one of his eyebrows twitching and eyes darting all across the room, clearly not saying the whole truth. "I've seen people like him before, it's not a big deal."

Mikey feels a sudden rush of excitement, bringing his hands up to his plastron in fists and slightly shaking them without thinking. The human looks at him with an expression that could almost be called fondness on his face. "You've met other mutants? Do you know Leo, too?"

The stranger looks to the side, an awkward smile creeping up his face as he says "No" but it sounds more like a question to Mikey's ears. Geez, whoever he is, he's certainly not a good liar. Mikey shrugs. Whatever reason he's not telling Mikey he knows Leo for, it must be a good reason and he certainly doesn't want to pry.

"Well, I'm Mikey. Nice to meet you," he says, reaching out his hand for a shake, which the human reluctantly takes.

"I'm, uh, Othello Von Ryan," he says, just as uncertain as his handshake is. Like he doesn't know his own name. Or like he's just coming up with it on the spot. Again, Mikey doesn't pry. Von Ryan must have a reason. At least now he has a name to connect to his face instead of thinking of him as a complete stranger.

Leo would tell him he still is a stranger. And he would be right, Mikey knows that, but it is simply in his nature to be overly trusting of people. Even when he knows they're lying, apparently - that’s a new one. He can't help it. He feels like he knows this guy from somewhere and he absolutely wants to find out where.

"Anyway, Von Ryan," April says, sarcasm dripping from her voice as she says the name. She knows he's lying too, of course. She has always been the more perceptive one of them. “You sure this will work?”

Von Ryan nods more confidently than they've seen him before as he motions with a hand towards the robot. “Of course. It’s all fixed now. I might’ve also made a few upgrades because honestly that wire-work was just sloppy, but it should work perfectly.”

***

He might not be human, but he likes to think he knows enough about them and their customs. He’s seen TV shows and seen enough things in real life to recognize something that is absolutely not normal. Like an animatronic bear at a children’s birthday restaurant starting to go crazy. That is probably not supposed to happen. He’s confirmed to be right when the robot simply explodes in the middle of the stage and flops on its back.

He wants to chuckle as he watches the poor human girl step in front of the lifeless body and tries to save the whole situation by starting to sing the happy birthday song. She really can’t catch a break.

Then the robot moves and he immediately stands up straighter. The children scream and he moves without thinking, getting to them and helping so they can be out of the building as soon as possible. When the last one of them is finally outside, he looks towards the remaining humans in the room and realizes he missed one. There’s a little boy with a paper crown on his head standing in front of a table, trembling in fear as the hideous robot is approaching him.

He tries to get in front of the child, but the girl beats him to it, hitting the machine with a tray and knocking down its gloves, a certain kind of manic light in her eyes that he recognises all too well. She looks at the small boy and points towards the far wall as she shouts “Run, kid!”

The child follows her directions and scurries away, but now the girl is right in front of the bear, with basically nothing between them to protect herself with. And since she knocked down its gloves with that hit of hers, the metal underneath is exposed, like sharp claws threatening to take her life.

He jumps into action again, hitting the robot in the face and making it fly, straight to the other side of the room and into a table that breaks under the impact. That does not stop it though, because it immediately sits up and turns its torso towards them like some kind of genetically mutated owl. He looks back at the girl. “Go, bounce!” he tells her, but she just glares at him and stays.

“Don’t leave,” the animatronic says in a freaky voice. “I haven’t handed out the party invitations yet!”

***

Leo feels a shiver run down his spine and he immediately sits up in his bed. He feels his skin go cold, his finger twitching and shaking slightly. Suddenly he feels like his vision gets better and his hearing sharper, but that can’t be right, that’s impossible.

He gets out of his bed, trying to not make noise and failing miserably. Something is wrong. He has no idea what, but something is going terribly wrong. He puts on his jacket and grabs his sword, opening his door only to see his dad’s worried expression. He seems tired, standing in the middle of the corridor in his pajamas. Leo realizes he also has his PJs on, which might be a bad idea to go out at night in but he can’t find it in himself to care.

“Leo? What’s wrong?” his dad asks hurriedly. Another chill runs all along what feels like Leo’s entire body, like electricity settling in his brain, but he must be imagining it because this should not happen. This never happened before. This is not like some simple sleep deprivation, but he doesn’t know what else it could be.

“I have no idea,” the turtle says truthfully, shaking his head. His phone lets out a light buzz from where it’s still laying on his bedside table, but he still hears it, his mind focusing on it like it never did on anything before. For some reason he can’t shake the thought of his phone away from his head. “I’m calling Mikey.”

He moves to his room with his father right behind him and dials the number without thinking. Mikey picks up after a few rings and for a brief second there’s silence, then the smaller turtle quickly exclaims “Leo! April and I are at Albearto's! The animatronics! They’re–”

He’s then cut off abruptly, Leo’s phone going silent. Another chill runs through him, that electric feeling from his brain traveling through his arms and settling in his palm, almost like a real entity, like pure energy on his fingertips. He grabs his sword and unsheathes it without thinking, not even stopping when he sees his father’s worried expression turn a bit scared.

“Dad, I’m going to Albearto’s.”

***

By the time Leo arrives in the middle of the restaurant through a portal, the overflowing energy in his body is ready to burst. He doesn’t even take a second to process how he could summon the portal without trying, or how he actually got to the right Albearto’s and not the other ones in the city. He doesn’t spare a glance to the unknown humans in the room either, just steps into action.

It’s a blur from there, all he remembers by the end of it are swings with his sword, cutting through metal and wires with a power he didn’t realize he had, and people he doesn’t know fighting along with him. Mikey got April to the other side of the restaurant as soon as Leo teleported in, seeing that he was perhaps going a bit feral and making sure his sister didn’t get hurt in all the fighting going on.

Leo lets out a deep breath of air he didn’t realize he was holding and looks over his shoulder. “Everyone okay?”

There are four very different expressions staring back at him from the various people in there, all of which Leo glances over in a second, his brain still running a hundred miles an hour and analyzes all of it in an instant.

The closest person to him is a tall, buff guy with asian features and skin that is naturally dark, not tanned. The bangs of his long black hair fall into one of his eyes a bit and the rest reaches the middle of his back. He has a red scarf around his neck with a little brooch on it, the color of the cloth similar to his pants and his fingerless gloves. He also has a simple black t-shirt on that doesn’t cover his many scars running down his arms. (And is that makeup on him?) He’s looking at Leo with a somewhat confused expression, bordering on calculating, but his eyes don’t hold any of that hardness his interior would suggest, so Leo’s not worried about him.

Then comes the guy standing a bit further away, with both asian and african-american features. He has braids with crystals and other accessories in it and it’s clear that his clothing style is way cooler than Big Red’s. He also has a few scars, mostly on his neck and jawline. His expression could only be described as admiration, and a part of Leo eats it right up, always desperate for any kind of validation.

(Both of them feel familiar to him, in a way, the second guy more so. Also, are these two related? Maybe half-siblings? Leo thinks. They have to be related, he thinks.)

Mikey is looking at him with something akin to awe in his eyes, like he couldn’t believe he could fight off all those robots and now that he did, the little turtle looks at him like one would at an action movie hero. April, on the other hand, is looking a bit horrified, but Leo soon realizes it must not be because of him, but because of the building slowly starting to fall down onto them.

“Oh shit,” Leo mutters just as all the walls around them crumble with a great noise.

***

Donatello finally begins to go home after basically the whole establishment gets destroyed, with a little bit of a bitter taste in his mouth for basically being the reason the human girl was fired, but mostly he’s feeling excited.

That was amazing. That was great. He was great. Just like Father intended him to be. No openings, a clear mind focused on one goal and one goal only, making no mistakes while doing everything he could to finish a mission. The perfect leader. It seems that even if he was untrained, the mutagene in the red-eared slider did its job.

He needs to talk to him and the other turtle next time he sees them, though. He has a feeling that it will happen sooner than he may think, but he still just desperately wants one normal conversation with his brothers where he could finally explain everything to them. One where they aren’t fighting each other or anything else. That would be nice.

That person though… The one with the red clothing, he seemed familiar. And he was a Yōkai in disguise, there were no doubts in Donatello’s mind about that. It’s like he didn’t even try to hide his cloaking device. But why is there even a reason he needs to be using it? Who is he? Where does Donatello know him from? It is entirely possible they only crossed paths in the Hidden City and he somehow remembered him, but he can’t help but feel like that isn’t true, somehow.

Donatello brushes one of the crystals in his hair and steps through the gateway to get to their house, his cloak falling with the action. He doesn’t even realize someone’s watching him.

***

“Did you know a kappa Yōkai lives with Baron Draxum?”

Maybe that’s not the nicest question to ask your mother after you just got back home and barged into her room in the middle of the night, but simply, he doesn’t care. She was up anyway. The last match just ended, and he assumed she would still be in the middle of her nightly routine.

He was right. She’s sitting in front of her large, gold plated mirror with her hair full of curlers and a bright green facemask on her already perfect skin. She looks up at him like she was already expecting him, that calm, cunning energy she has present like always.

“How delightful to see you at home this dimbly late, Raphael,” she says pointedly. Oh right, he forgot he was supposed to stay in and actually get some sleep. His lessons in the morning will be absolutely insufferable like this.

“Don’t pretend like I didn’t say anything,” Raphael snaps back, stepping closer. “Ma, who is he? Did you know about him?”

He doesn’t mention the other two turtles. She has the most chance to have seen Draxum’s assistant or whatever he was to him since she has been to their home when she went to get his new weapon.

She sighs, her expression softening a little. “You know how I found you, right?”

Raphael stares at her, suddenly confused because he has no idea where she is going with this, but he answers regardless. “In a cup. One of your men brought it to you and I was in it.”

She nods, fully turning towards his son now. “Do you know where the cup came from?”

The turtle doesn’t answer since she never told him. He has a good guess though, but he wants to hear it from her mouth. She confirms his suspicion. “From Draxum’s old lab.”

“Who is he?” Raphael asks again.

His mother shakes her head. “Darling, I wish I knew. All I could gather about him was that he lives with Draxie and calls him his father. Knowing that insufferable goat man, he tried to make warriors out of poor defenseless kappa Yōkai, for all I know.”

Raphael nods. She’s telling the truth. He learned all her tells growing up and even if it may seem impossible for other people, he knows how to read his own mother of all people. A plan settles in his head as he thinks it over. It’s clear Draxum was onto something all those years ago, when Ma found him, and it’s also clear he failed. The other two turtles might be related to all of this. He has to find out everything he can about the three of them.

That girl will be his best starting point.

Chapter Text

Donatello thinks he’s a reasonably smart person, even going as far as considering himself a genius of sorts. He’s capable of achieving great things, that’s what Father always told him. He is able to make the most complex of machines and blueprints, using both simple metals and also certain mystic elements. He could do complicated math in his head since he was eight.

All that, and he somehow still found himself in loads of stupid, dumb situations despite his best efforts to keep out of trouble. It was never his intention, of course. He tried to stay down and avoid the Hidden City police. He didn’t want to risk them discovering Father and arresting him or worse. Neither of them needed that, they were already on thin ice as they were hiding from any and all authorities.

It was fine though! It was alright. Donatello obviously grew up not expecting police to actually help him, Father did a good job of reminding him throughout his youth how stupid and cruel they could be. For a long time, he didn’t quite understand why they needed to hide or why he should never ask for help from the police, but when he asked, Father explained it all at once. He said he was a criminal, easy and simple and surely not making Donatello’s brain go for a loop over that.

Later on, Donatello realized Father used the word criminal pretty loosely. He had no criminal records - Donatello checked himself, hacking into the Hidden City Police Department one time when he was extremely bored at the age of thirteen. Father was not a criminal in the most obvious meaning. He barely classified as one, since he never actually did anything illegal - as long as his son was aware. Donatello guessed the best term to use would be ‘potential disturbance to the peace’.

The Council may have been after him, sure, but mostly as a way of trying to keep the city safe. Not that Father was dangerous. Not for Yokai. But since the Council thought he was crazy, they made sure that if the police ever saw him they’d keep an eye out for anything suspicious.

After Father’s lab exploded the first time, when Donatello and his brothers were created, he decided to not do anything and lay low in hopes of the Council thinking he was dead. And it worked. Father being alive was a secret that only a few people knew besides the three living there knew. This was one of the main reasons Donatello was so wary of Big Mama being in their home.

All in all, their family never quite had luck in regards to justice systems. Donatello has unfortunately got into too many arguments and even some fights with the Hidden City police officers, despite his best attempts to stay away from them.

It seems like that trend continues, he thinks sourly as he quickens his pace and jumps over a low fence. He really didn't think the human police would care for being on the streets late at night. When they first approached him, he thought his cloak was broken and he has been spotted as a Yokai, but instead of the humans dragging him to a research facility, they asked why he was out.

He simply responded that he was going home, but he was always a horrible liar, so the officers got suspicious and asked for his personal information and to show them his ID. Donatello simply stated that he didn't have them on him, which was the truth, since he didn't even have his HCPC (Hidden City Personal Card, a far superior identification gadget than a simple human ID). The officers were not quite happy with that answer though.

One of them tried grabbing him and that was the second Donatello thought it was time to dip. With a quick movement he turned and ran away from the spot, but some of the cops were able to keep up with him.

And now here he is, running from authorities once again, even though he did nothing. He looks over his shoulder, checking if the hop over the fence helped him at all, and while some of them were slowed down by it, two officers are only a few meters behind him. They seem to be getting tired, and Donatello is honestly not too keen on waiting to see when they finally give up and pull out a gun instead. He certainly doesn't want to get shot. It's a Wednesday. It would be below him to get shot on a Wednesday of all days.

He's still looking over his shoulder, when something wraps around his hips and he is lifted up straight into the air. He doesn't even have time to start trashing before his feet hit solid ground, now standing on a cold rooftop. The thing that was wrapped around his disappears all at once, the whole experience leaving Donatello a bit uncoordinated and confused.

"Von Ryan!"

He looks up, finally seeing what, or rather who, saved him. Exactly who he was looking for in the first place. His brother - Michaelangelo - stands in front of him, with a cheery smile on his face, eyes basically shining with glee as he looks up at Donatello's disguised form. He is bouncing on his feet, a familiar gesture the Yokai recognizes as something he also does sometimes when he gets excited. Fondness grows in his chest as he smiles back and greets the turtle.

"Hey there," he says, looking down on the street below them. He can only barely see the officers left down there, but they're going away, they have most likely given up on chasing him after he was snatched in a sudden occurrence of what probably seemed like some sort of deus ex machina. "Thanks for the help."

"No problem!" Michelangelo exclaims excitedly, then completely catching Donatello off guard, grabs one of his arms and tugs on him a little as he starts rambling. "I was actually just checking if Leo was out here, but you might be even better for this! Wanna catch a mutant hippo with me?"

Donatello glances at the hands around his biceps and feels a slight uncomfortable feeling crawling up his spine. Brothers on not, he's not the biggest fan of physical contact and he never was. He takes a step back and only then responds to the turtle's question with one of his own.

"What do you mean?"

Michaelangelo explains the situation to him as quickly as he physically can, speaking so fast that he fumbles over some of his words in the process. Apparently, there is a new Yokai hippo with magical abilities going around and wreaking havoc across the city and Michaelangelo is determined to catch him.

(His brother uses the word mutant for some reason, and while Donatello supposes it is correct in description, since they were mutated, in a way, it makes his skin crawl a little bit for some reason.)

"And why do you think I'm a good candidate for this?" Donatello asks after a few seconds of silence, tilting his head to the side slightly, feeling the unfamiliar weight of hair on his head shift at the motion.

"Well, you're like, smart," Michelangelo says simply, shrugging with one of his shoulders. "You know a lot about robots from what I've seen and April always told me programmers are smart and smart people know strategies and stuff."

Donatello does his best to not say a word about April, the human girl his little brother spends most of his free time with for fun, or about how technically, while he is a decent strategist, Leo would still be better for the job. But he can't say that without giving a reason why and he can't quite just say 'Oh, simple. He was made for it' can he?

So he agrees, even if it seems like a terrible idea. He supposes he gets what he wants in the whole exchange - spending more time with Michaelangelo - and he does get to see one of the newly turned Yokai in action. And apparently a pretty powerful one at that. He could even document everything and then report back to Father about it.

"Sure. Do you have any ideas on how to catch him?"

***

This is not only stupid, but also a bit crazy. Scratch that. Really crazy. However… Donatello can't help but be a little bit intrigued about it all. Amused, even, as he watches his little brother trip and fall as he steps on the too-big legs of a hippo suit. Michelangelo’s plan is a little ridiculous, he has to admit, but now he really wants to see where it goes.

“So, what is the plan, exactly?” Donatello asks as he looks over the cheap quality suit with a quirk of his brow.

“Easy!” Michelangelo exclaims. “You got that female hippo scent?”

Donatello - somewhat reluctantly - takes out the little perfume bottle and gives it to the turtle who immediately douses himself in it, leaving him staring confused.

“Great!” his brother says once he’s done and throws the bottle into the air absently, Donatello scrambling to catch it. “Where did you get that anyway?”

He freezes immediately, pink bottle in hand and looks away from Michaelangelo, then finally moves, maybe too quickly, and he straightens up and clothes the bottle to his chest. “I, uh…” he trails off, thinking about whatever he should say to get himself out of this situation. Finally, he settles on just brushing it off like it’s no big deal. “I have my ways.”

He can’t just tell the truth. He can’t just say that his father once did an experiment about turning a human into a hippo Yokai just like the one they were searching now, but it turned out to be a failure and they just had a female hippo to deal with. He can’t.

Michelangelo is about to say something when the two of them hear a distressed shout from nearby and Donatello darts towards it in hopes that the young turtle will forget this little interaction of theirs altogether.

***

Leo grabs a few things from his room - his jacket and some cash - then puts his boots on silently at the front door. He checks his phone again and sighs when he sees no new notifications. His dad should be home by now. It is well past the time he usually arrives back from a workday, and Leo can’t help but feel a little anxious about it all. He really hopes nothing happened and it’s only bad traffic, or his dad visiting some friend of his and forgetting to tell Leo.

Yeah, surely it’s that.

And besides, he at least has the time now to go out and take care of some business. He has a bad feeling about wherever it could go, but he suspect’s he’s just being a little paranoid. Nothing new there.

***

They meet a new Yokai, a worm, who Donatello immediately forgets the name of. Something with a W, maybe Walley or some stupid human name like that. He doesn't know what he even expected from a human turned Yokai who wasn't made specifically like him and his siblings were. The worm is weak, insignificant and utterly disappointing. His only apparent ability is a strange way of regeneration, but that's not enough. Donatello makes a note on his wrist tech when his brother isn't looking at him about it, but other than that, he doesn't pay the Yokai a lot of attention. He doesn't matter.

He's here for the hippo.

From what he's heard, that one shows real promise to become a worthy Yokai. If only they could find him for real so he could observe him…

Him and Michaelangelo go to the news station next, and they look through the whole building in hopes of the Yokai hippo showing up. They search and look in every corner, but they don't find him for what feels like the longest time. Donatello is about to suggest they give up, since it's getting too close to the time he usually goes to bed at, when it happens.

Next to them, a wall blasts open, the debris flying all across the room. Donatello blinks for a few seconds, unable to clear the dirt that got into his eye and then he sees him. The new Yokai is there, standing in front of them in all his glory and the disguised turtle is immediately fascinated by him. He indeed shows much more promise than that worm.

Then, the hippo launches at them, and Donatello doesn't have time to think about anything besides protecting his little brother.

***

"So, any news about the guy?" comes his voice in the dark alley.

He is standing on a low balcony, his body carefully hidden behind shadows. He feels the cold walls against his shell even through his jacket as he leans against it and waits for the answer.

"My payment?" the rugged, human man questions back before telling him anything.

Leo doesn't even roll his eyes, just reaches into his pocket and grabs the joint he found a few days ago and tosses it down to him. The human catches it quickly and looks it over. Leo can see his expression from the low light of the streets peeking in between the buildings. The man grins.

"You never disappoint, Leon," he says the name with a tilt to his voice that suggests he doesn't believe that's his real name. Leo rolls his eyes now for real. He's lucky this garbage of a human being doesn't see it or he'd be having turtle soup for dinner.

"And neither do you, Jack," he says, knowing it's a fake name. He knows the man's name is actually Theodore. He pickpocketed him the first chance he got. "So?"

The human sighs with a conflicted expression. "Look, kid. I don't know why you need information about this guy, but he's bad news. What do you kids call it? A red flag? Yeah, he's that."

Leo stays silent, waiting for the man to continue. He will not give him more than the fact that he's suspicious of this person and he's already told him that much. He doesn't do deals with him for Theodore for him to ask questions. He does because he's one of the only people who doesn't, usually. This new found care for the situation is disappointing at best and insulting at worst.

Theodore reluctantly continues. "Your guy is like a shadow, Leon. I tried following him and he turned into a street and disappeared, like he wasn't even there. There was nothing where he could've hidden behind either. He shows up most days in the city, but sometimes he just vanishes, and none of my men can find him. It's like he's not even a real person. He doesn't even talk to anyone regularly. No patterns, no friends. He only seems to be following this one girl on some days."

Leo perks up at that a little. Finally, something Theodore actually managed to find out.

"What about her? Anything special? Mafia enemy? Mafia friend?"

The man shakes his head. "Not that I know of. Just some random high school student."

Leo has an itch at the back of his head, a feeling that this is somehow all tied up to something bigger. He pushes for more information.

"Who is she? Her name? What does she look like?"

Theodore is quiet for a few seconds, then finally answers and Leo's blood runs cold.

"April O'Neil."

Leo takes in a deep breath to try and keep his slightly shaking hands steady and really hopes the human doesn't notice. He hopes when her description comes, he's going to turn out to be a different April than the one she knows. He's never been lucky though.

"She's black, but her hair is a little red. Around 16 maybe."

"Did he ever engage with her?" Leo asks immediately.

"Not from what I could tell."

Leo relaxes only barely at that. That's good news at least, but he knows there must be something more to this whole thing. He knows this guy is bad news, he could tell from the beginning when he saw the way he moved with practiced ease and didn't hesitate before a punch.

He really was hoping he was just paranoid. He still does, in a way, even now that he knows this person is interested in his friend for some unknown reason. He is holding onto the thought that he is just imagining things, because if that's not true…

April's life could be in danger.

***

The new Yokai is just like Father intended.

He has magical abilities, since he was apparently a magician before and some of those parts of his personality seemingly merged with the mutagene and made him more powerful.

Donatello writes down everything he knows about him and his capabilities. Father will be pleased, even if he would need to report the disappointing worm Yokai too. Well, it was clear from the beginning that some of them would be a little… faulty. But as long as there are powerful ones, just like this hippo, it is all worth it.

With each day and each new Yokai, they are getting closer and closer to their goal. Donatello can hardly wait. All he needs to do now is convince his brothers to join their cause. Easy. He just needs to talk to them about it and he's sure they would understand and come back to where they always belonged, to take their rightful place in destiny's plans.

***

Leo comes home late. He assumes his dad is already in bed by that time, but he has a feeling that something is wrong. He listens to his guts and so before he goes to his room, he turns towards his father's.

The door is shut.

The turtle stands there, on the too-small corridor to his father’s too-small room and he feels the cold from the tiles underneath his feet seep into his veins and make a home for itself somewhere in his stomach and he feels like his dinner could come up at any second. His dad never shuts his door.

He stands there for god knows how long until he hears a little sound from the room that barely resembles a sob and he launches himself at the door, tearing it away from the wall and almost off its hinges. Leo sees a huge figure curled up on his father’s bed, who has wide shoulders and is barely able to fit on the old bed.

He is reaching for his sword as soon as he sees the unknown man, his fingers wrapping around it in less than a second. Metal slices through air and he takes up a defensive position as he glares at the stranger. But still… he doesn’t move. He feels frozen entirely and is just waiting for the other to move and do something so Leo has a reason to strike.

Then the man looks at him and Leo drops his sword when he sees the red-rimmed, dark brown eyes that he knows all too well, the eyes he has seen ever since he was a child every single day. His hands shake and he takes in a shaky breath, his eyes filling with tears too as he looks at the person in front of him.

“Dad?” he asks after a brief silence that cuts through his soul.

“Leo, I’m–” his father starts but the turtle cuts him off and jumps into his arms without a second thought because this is his dad. The man who raised him and gave him love and cared for him even in the most desperate of times. And now he turned into a monster because of Leo.

“Dad!” he exclaims as he feels familiar yet so unknown arms wrap him up in a tight hug. Leo knows he’s crying and that his tears are staining his father’s shirt but he barely cares about that when he has a much bigger problem. “I’m so sorry. This is all because of me. I’m–”

His dad takes his face into his hands and looks at him with a confused expression. His hands are so cold. They feel so different, but still, Leo knows this is his father because how could anyone else look at him with so much care in their eyes, even when they have tears running down their face? He doesn’t deserve it, not at all. “What are you saying, Leo? Don’t be ridiculous, this is not your fault.”

Leo shakes his head. “No, dad! You don’t understand. It is my fault! Mikey and I… and April, we… It’s our fault.”

The turtle shakes and cries in his guardian’s arms and for once in his life, lets himself fall apart in front of him, lets all of his emotions get the better of him and becomes a crumbled shell of himself when he finally quiets down and just sobs silently onto his father’s shirt.

“Whatever happened, I can guarantee you something, Leo. This is not your fault.”

Leo loves his father more than anything else in this world, he does. He would do anything for him and to keep him safe. He would believe anything his father said under normal circumstances, but this is definitely not that.

And he definitely doesn’t believe him when he says it’s not his fault.

Chapter Text

Mikey moves through his own home like it’s a minefield, with every step being a possible disaster that he is desperate to avoid. It’s a well-known, familiar rhythm he learned when he was much younger. The fridge in the kitchen opens a little more quietly when you open it with both hands. If you go in a big enough circle around the living room door, there is no chance your father will see you.

Simple.

When he was around five, he didn’t fully understand why he even started doing it, why he was so unnaturally quiet and closed off around his dad on certain days, but as he got older, it became clear. He felt unwanted - hell, he knew he was unwanted even as a young boy. His father made sure he survived, taught him how to cook and look after himself and that’s it, that’s what he thought was his job.

Mikey knows his father isn’t well of course, he knows something is wrong, but how is he supposed to bring that up? He has tried before, telling the man that he looks a little exhausted and asking him when was the last time he slept, only to be either ignored or told to not stick his nose into it. Being ignored was the better option of the two by far.

It’s the middle of the day when Mikey emerges from sleep - having practically no social upbringing and no school has its perks, like no concept of a normal sleep schedule. He stretches in the door of his room, then steps out into the cold sewer air and heads for the kitchen. He listens to the faint noise of the TV and his dad’s snoring, relaxing a little that he’s clearly asleep. That never meant anything, the man jumps up at every little noise he hears with his keen ears.

Mikey isn’t in the mood to cook and there’s no leftovers in the fridge, so he grabs a carton of milk and a box of cereal, along with his favorite bowl and spoon and goes back to his room. He leaves his door open - his father always tells him to do so, and if he doesn’t there’s a bigger chance that he’ll come just to complain about it.

He sighs when he hears his father stirring up in his sleep. Mikey can’t help listening to every sound in their home, it’s an old habit that just doesn’t seem to die any time soon.

When he finishes his late breakfast, he debates leaving everything in his room and just staying in there the whole day himself, but he doesn’t want the remaining milk to go bad. He stands up and makes his way back towards the kitchen before he could change his mind.

His dad is standing there, currently making breakfast - eggs and bacon with the toaster on, but no bread in it yet. “Good morning,” Mikey says as soon as he steps into the room. He puts his bowl in the sink and the milk back in the fridge at record speed, desperate to get out of the room.

“Morning, son,” the rat mutant answers back. Mikey, despite his best effort, smiles. He knows the bad part is coming, but it’s always so nice to see his father notice him and even call him son. “You stayed out quite late last night.”

Here it is, Mikey thinks. He needs a few seconds to get his act together and settle on what to say, so he decides to do something with his hands, getting two slices of bread and placing them in the toaster.

“Well?” his father asks, apparently in an impatient mood.

“April needed help with a project and asked me to do the art part of it,” Mikey says truthfully. He knows his father absolutely doesn’t remember that he actually told him he can go. He never does. Most of the time, Mikey makes sure to ask multiple times just so he would remember, but he didn’t have the opportunity this time. April asked him last afternoon and he could only ask once before he went to her place.

The rat mutant turns down the heat when he’s finished with the eggs and bacon. “I don’t remember telling you that you can go.”

Mikey sighs. “Dad, I was with April, I wasn’t even alone. And I did ask you. You said you don’t care what I do.”

It’s the truth and his father knows it. He always says the same thing, he always tells Mikey he doesn’t care and to go wherever he wants. It’s all contradicting itself and weird, that he seemingly doesn’t care, then he asks Mikey where he was. It confuses the boy to no end, makes his head swim but he’s used to it by now.

Despite all of this, the man gasps and turns towards his son with an offended-but-still-angry expression on his face, like he personally hurt him. Yeah, like that would ever happen, Mikey thinks bitterly.

“Michelangelo,” his father says with emphasis, yet his voice is still cold and angry all at once, making Mikey’s shoulders raise to his cheeks and his head sink slightly into his shell. Oh, he hates it when his father calls him by his full name. It feels like a bucket of icy water being poured right over his head.

“Okay, sorry,” Mikey quickly says, hating himself. He shouldn’t be the one apologizing, he thinks, tearing up a little. He hates this, he hates how emotional he gets around his father, he hates that the man barely even cares. “I’ll– I don’t know, I’ll tell you next time, okay?”

He doesn’t wait for an answer, turning on his heels to leave the kitchen. He is only a little disappointed that his father doesn’t follow him. Mikey dashes across the halls of their home and into his room, putting on headphones and playing music from his phone on the loudest setting.

The smell of burnt toast is all that can be found throughout the sewers for the next hour or so.

***

Donatello knows he’s being unnaturally quiet even for himself, but he can’t help it, his mind is entirely elsewhere as he moves through the long halls and corridors of his home just to reach the kitchen. He’s thinking about his sibling. That’s all he seems to be doing nowadays. Somewhere in the back of his mind, his brothers are always there, Michelangelo and Leonardo lurking in there, demanding his attention at all times.

He finds himself thinking about what their lives could be like at odd times. What kinds of music they listen to, what their favorite sweets are, if they even like sweets in the first place. He has a hunch that Michelangelo definitely likes them, but he’s not sure about Leonardo. He wants to know though, he wants to know everything about the brothers he thought were long lost, even the small, unimportant details.

He also wants to know about their upbringing. If they have parents of their own like Father assumes, if they grew up comfortable, if they are safe.

He wants them to be there with him more than anything else, which is a curious thing. Ever since Donatello could remember, all he wanted was to be like Father and to help him in his cause - their cause. He was made for this purpose only, and so he naturally never really wanted anything more than that in his life. Sure, he had his own interests and likes, along with some selfish wants, but none were so significant, not like this one.

Donatello slowly reaches the kitchen and finds Father there, preparing some food at the other side of the room. The turtle glances at the little calendar next to the door on the wall and realizes it’s the weekend and it’s their shared chosen food day - tteokbokki this time.

This routine was settled when Donatello was around six or so years old, after Father realized that he was definitely a picky eater. They make cooked food three times a week, and they choose what to eat once together and the other two times alone. At first it was just a way for Donatello to get more comfortable with certain foods while also having some things he knew and liked, but as the years passed it became a big part of their home life. Every Sunday they sit down and decide what to make the next week, which the boy definitely looks at as a huge comfort.

“Can I help?” Donatello asks as he steps closer to the counter. He knows Father heard him coming in, so he’s not trying to make himself known. Father doesn’t turn around, only hums in what the turtle assumes is confirmation before they settle into a familiar rhythm.

They work in near silence, only talking about what they need to do next and if they should make the food a little spicier so the gargoyles can eat it too. It’s comfortable and familiar and in the midst of it, Donatello finds himself wondering what it would be like if his brothers were there and sighs.

“That was a big sigh,” Father says, looking at him. “Is everything okay?”

Donatello doesn’t look back at him but he doesn’t need to. He knows Father is usually rather poor at reading people, but when it comes to his own son, he is an expert. He knows what the turtle needs when he’s overwhelmed, he knows how easily irritable he can be when he’s tired, and he knows a sigh this long means that something is on his mind.

“I’m just thinking about the others,” he says simply without sugarcoating anything. Father knows who he means when he says the others, Donatello is sure when he takes a deep breath in to stay somewhat emotionless. “And what to do.”

“Well,” Father starts with an unusual reluctance that makes Donatello finally glance up at him, but his face is neutral and doesn’t give anything away. “I told you that in my opinion you should tell them you’re brothers, correct?”

The turtle nods.

“And do you want to do that?”

Another nod.

“Then I think you should just do it.” Donatello is about to argue, but before he has the chance to, Father continues. “People are not computers, Donatello. You don’t have statistics about them, especially when you don’t even know them. If you delay this more, it’s just going to get more stressful and you’re not going to be any brighter when it comes to how they might react.”

Donatello is a little stunned, but perhaps he shouldn’t be. Father is right, of course, and it’s not like it’s a strange thing coming from the man. Father is always analytical to a fault, except when it comes to people. He makes sure to tell Huginn and Munnin certain things in detail about their errands, he makes sure Donatello knows he can ask questions and saying what he means is essential to communication. It’s not like Donatello wants to lie, he never really did in fact and certainly wasn’t good at it, but Father always tells him communication is only worth people’s time when they’re honest with each other.

The turtle hums in somewhat reluctant agreement. “You’re right, Father,” he says and stays silent for a brief second. “I’m just not sure how.”

“How to what, exactly?” Father asks for clarification, turning the heat down under the tteokbokki with an easy flick of his wrist. Donatello didn’t even realize that the food was done, he looks away with a vague sense of shame filling his chest. What is wrong with him? He should pay more attention to things like these, things to help Father with. “Donatello?”

He shakes his head to clear it and finally replies. “How to tell them.”

“I know you operate best with a plan already in mind, but there are certain situations where you can’t possibly have one,” Father says instead of giving any actual advice. Donatello is about to tell him just that but he continues. “If I were in your place, I’d start by only telling one of them and see how he reacts.”

Now that’s a good idea. Donatello hasn’t thought of that before, but now that Father suggested it, he can’t believe how he missed it. Of course. The best option he has is trying his chances with telling one of his brothers about their kinship - their family - and hope for the best.

Donatello knows immediately that Michelangelo should be the one who he tells first, the answer coming to him easy. The box turtle seems much more friendly and understanding by what Donatello has seen of him, and maybe if he reacts positively, he can help with convincing Leonardo too that this is worth his time. Donatello will tell them about the Yokai and how they were made to save them, about their purpose, their cause.

That’s the best he can do.

***

Mikey feels trapped.

He knows he shouldn’t, he knows it’s irrational - he’s in his own room, for fuck’s sake - but he just needs to be anywhere other than the sewers. He has had enough interactions with his father for one day.

By enough, he means absolutely none, but in a soul crushing way. Dad is having one of his days where he barely looks at anything and especially not at Mikey. It isn’t just him being ignored either, and maybe that’s the worst thing. His father isn’t acting like Mikey isn’t in the room with him, he looks at him every once in a while, acknowledging that he’s there, but says nothing to him.

Mikey felt so good about today. He tried to talk to his father after the man actually made him breakfast and left it in front of his usual seat in the kitchen, along with a cup of tea next to it. Mikey doesn’t like tea, but hey, he got something at least! His dad tried to do something for him! He wanted to show his appreciation, to come out of his shell a little - literally - but it was the wrong thing to do in the end, it seems.

He never knows when one of these days will come, or what even triggers them, since for him it seems like they come and go, occasionally making his dad a husk of his usual self. Not that his father is the best parent to ever exist, Mikey knows that. He has seen April talk with his parents, and they seem like they’re doing a way better job at raising a kid.

But his dad is trying his best. Mikey knows.

These days still hurt though, more than anything. More than the confusing overprotective-uncaring manner his father sometimes speaks in, more than the detached way he looks at Mikey when he gets a minor injury. It makes Mikey choke up tears and eventually go back to his room to hide and try to forget the silence he received back in the living room.

He wants to get out of here.

It’s the middle of the week though, around sunset by now probably, and he knows April will have a huge history test the next day and she needs to study. Leo isn’t replying to his texts, hasn’t for around two weeks now. But he doesn’t want to go out alone. He wants someone to keep his mind off of everything else.

He stares at his phone screen and decides screw it, pressing call on the newest entry of the mere four saved numbers. He counts the rings while he waits, almost giving up by the sixth, when it suddenly stops.

“You are conversing with–” comes the voice from the other side, then stops and repeats the sentence again with less certainty. “You are conversing with Othello Von Ryan.”

Mikey finds himself smiling at the little slip up. Almost told me his real name, he thinks with great amusement.

“Hello?” Von Ryan asks when Mikey says nothing.

“Wanna hang out?”

***

Truth be told, when Michelangelo first gave Donatello his phone number, the softshell assumed they wouldn’t call each other at all. Maybe if Michelangelo needs help with some electric tools, a broken TV or microwave, something like that, since he knows Donatello is good with that stuff. Since Donatello himself can just essentially find his brother whenever he wants, it seemed a little silly to exchange numbers but he still did it for Michelangelo.

He certainly did not expect a call from the younger turtle right after his usual nightly training time, and so when Michelangelo calls, Donatello has to rush up to his room to pick up, ignoring Father’s arched eyebrow.

Donatello is out of the house in record time, too. When Michelangelo asks to meet him out of the blue, he grabs his cloaking device and runs back to the ground floor, already telling his brother that he will be able to make it in ten minutes if he hurries. They finish the call and Donatello finally turns to Father who has an amused smile on his face.

“I assume you’ll be out for tonight, correct?” the man asks and Donatello nods as he lets the cloak of a human boy fall over him like a protective layer of armor. “Alright,” Father says simply. “I will be going to bed shortly, if I am not awake when you get home, please do wake me up.”

Donatello nods, thin braids of hair falling into his face in a way he doubts he would ever get used to. “I’ll try to remember,” he says instead of promising it. “Goodnight, Father.”

“Stay safe,” Father says. Donatello stands there, waiting for him to say goodnight back, since ‘Stay safe’ is definitely not a good response. When Father realizes what he’s waiting for, he smiles and simply says. “Night.”

That’s all Donatello needs to dart towards the portal key at the front door. He can hear an amused huff of air being let out from Father’s snout, but he doesn’t care about it. His skin is buzzing with excitement as he steps through the portal. This is it, he thinks. He’ll tell Michelangelo. Why else would the boy call him the same day when he finally decides to take Father’s advice? It’s fate. He knows it is.

Donatello only rounds one corner after appearing in an alley before he sees someone approaching him, which scares him to death. He jumps into the air and is ready to throw the body in front of him as far as he possibly can, when his youngest brother’s face beams at him and he finally realizes it’s Michelangelo.

“That was way less than ten minutes, Von Ryan!” the turtle says with a huge smile, taking one more step closer and suddenly Donatello is wrapped up in a hug. He has to blink a few times before his brain registers the contact, but when it does, all he can do is awkwardly pat the boy on the shell.

Donatello was never one for physical touch. That was never really an issue before, since Father isn’t either and the gargoyles’ hands feel cold and smooth enough that it truly doesn’t bother the softshell when they touch him, but when it comes to Michelangelo, a whole new problem is making itself known. Because it’s clear that Michelangelo likes hugs and holding someone’s hand and such - Donatello has seen him hug more people than anyone else in his entire life over their brief encounters. And simply put, Donatello is the exact opposite. He rarely wants physical contact, he hates the texture of people’s skin and their warmth, and feels suffocated by it if he isn’t the one initiating it.

Michelangelo finally lets him go after five infuriatingly long seconds and Donatello shakes his head to clear it. Titan, he hated that hug. “You showed up early too,” he says and hopes Michelangelo doesn’t see the way he needs to rub at his arms where the turtle touched him to make the feeling go away.

The box turtle shrugs and looks away. “Well…” he trails off and stays quiet for a few seconds before his smile from earlier appears back on his face. “Anyway, what do you want to do?”

Donatello puts some actual thought into the question, deciding what he wants to do and if there’s anything that would be helpful for him to get, before he answers. “I need some wires and metals for a project I’m working on,” he says, looking at Michelangelo doubtfully. He may tell him no, but he was the one to ask, Donatello reasons with himself and so he continues. “Do you like junkyards?”

***

After a week of hard labor and an improvised car chase, Mikey sits in the shotgun seat of the Moon Buggy - an actual prop used in multiple Jupiter Jim movies - and wonders about how they got here. Von Ryan is next to him, gripping the wheel frantically, panting slightly as his own heart probably settles down from all the adrenaline. Mikey can’t help but laugh, a bubbling sound breaking out of him. Von Ryan looks at him and after a confused look, he starts giggling like an idiot too, and suddenly Mikey feels lighter than he has in months.

“That was–” he starts, gasping for air in the midst of his laughter. “That was so cool!”

Von Ryan leans back in his seat. “Indeed. And this Moon Buggy,” he says with a great concentration and a little sarcasm, “isn’t as useless as I first thought it would be. Maybe with some alteration, I can make it a proper tank or something.”

Mikey jumps up in place and turns towards the boy. “You can do that?!”

The human nods and raises one single eyebrow, apparently somewhat surprised by Mikey’s sudden outburst. The turtle shakes his hands a little more as his excitement over the idea keeps bubbling over like a potion in the cauldron that is his body. “That sounds– Ohmegosh, can you do that? Like, for real?”

“Of course. You like the idea?” Von Ryan asks, fidgeting a little with his hair and one of the crystals on it.

“I love the idea, dude!” Mikey practically shrieks, earning a soft smile. “You can take it home or something and do your tech whiz magic on it all you want, just show me when it’s finished, yeah?”

Von Ryan nods seriously. “Obviously I will show you.”

Mikey keeps smiling at him while he’s mulling over this last week. It started crazy and it certainly ended that way, too. When he first saw the Moon Buggy and Von Ryan realized how much he wanted it, the boy immediately pulled out all of his money, which wasn’t much, but Mikey appreciated the sentiment. Then they met Todd, a super friendly mutant, and Von Ryan decided to follow his lead and help the poor guy just for Mikey to be happy. And then he stole the whole Moon Buggy for him!

The moment is broken by the human. “Mikey,” he starts.

The turtle looks at him again and thinks about how it’s so nice that Von Ryan isn’t calling him by his full name anymore. He really hates being called Michelangelo by anyone, not just his father, he realized during this week and he’s glad the boy understood and respected that with ease.

“I need to tell you something,” Von Ryan says.

“Oh, are you finally telling me your real name?” Mikey brightens up even more.

The boy shakes his head in confusion. “What?” Then, after a moment, “Well, in a way, yes. I guess it would be easier if I just showed you.”

Von Ryan sighs and grabs that one crystal in his hair that he was fidgeting with for the last few minutes and yanks hard on it, until it separates from his body entirely and a swarm of purple, sparkling fog envelopes him. Mikey blinks and the next time he opens his eyes, instead of the human boy’s form he got so used to, a vaguely familiar turtle mutant is staring back at him.

It’s Donatello, the mutant Mikey and Leo saw with that evil goat man when they met. Mikey draws back from him reflexively.

“This is–” he starts and giggles awkwardly, his hand already on his weapon. “This is not what I expected.”