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"I thought we were just getting ingredients for dinner,” Raph said, shifting the bags in his grip as they descended the stairs into the lair. “Why do we have three different kinds of mushrooms?”
“Flavor profile,” Mikey said immediately, from behind his own bundle of bags. “Also, the variety is important for texture.”
“Uh-huh.”
They dropped the bags on a table near the center of the lobby, which had become their equivalent of a living room. Donnie was already there, leaning against the far side with his tablet, fingers typing away on the screen. He didn't look up.
The usual background noise filled the space. There was the low buzz of the lighting overhead, the distant rumble of trains much further down the tunnels, and… a sudden, unfamiliar electronic pinging noise.
Raph paused after releasing his hold on the bags.
“What's that?” he asked.
Mikey was already digging through the groceries. “What's what?”
It came again: a soft, musical sound, like a single hit on a windchime filtered through a speaker.
Ping.
Raph followed the sound across the room.
Leo was sprawled across the couch, one leg hooked over the back, with his phone held up in front of his face. His thumbs moved quickly, tapping and swiping rhythmically across the screen.
Raph moved closer and watched him for a second, then spoke.
“What're you doing?”
Leo didn't look up. “Being productive.”
Raph snorted. “Doesn't look like it.”
“Hey,” Leo defended, “don't undermine my process! I'm engaging with current trends.”
Tap-tap-tap.
Ping.
Raph crossed his arms. “Which would be…?”
“Mobile game,” Leo said. “All of April's friends are playing it right now.”
That got a small raise of Raph's brow. He glanced towards the screen, but Leo had it angled just enough that all he caught was a blur of movement.
“... Sounds like you keep losing,” Raph said.
“I'm not losing,” Leo said immediately.
Ping.
“... I'm resetting.”
Raph let out a short laugh. “Big difference.”
“Massive,” Leo said.
“Okay,” Mikey announced, popping up behind Raph with a tomato in one hand. “I'm gonna go wash these and start prepping. Dinner is going to be life-changing!”
“Don't go overboard, Mikey,” Raph said.
“No promises!”
Mikey disappeared toward the kitchen with a bag of produce, humming brightly to himself.
Tap-tap-tap.
Ping.
Raph exhaled, looking back to Leo.
“You actually gonna beat it at some point?” he teased.
“Wow,” Leo said. “Rude.”
Leo's eyes didn't leave the screen.
Tap-tap.
No ping this time, just quick movement from Leo's fingers.
Raph watched.
Leo paused for half a second, then resumed tapping a bit more frantically.
Tap-tap-swipe-tap.
…
Ping.
From the table, Donnie spoke without looking up.
“Your cell phone usage has increased by almost forty percent today already.”
Leo's thumbs faltered.
“... You track that?” he asked, eyes finally leaving the screen to glance over at Donnie.
“Of course.”
“That is so unnecessary.”
“It's informative,” Donnie corrected.
“What, you need to be informed every time one of us gets hooked on another addictive game for a week?” Leo smiled and tilted the phone slightly, like he might offer it. “Wanna try?”
“No,” Donnie replied without even looking up.
“Wow. Immediate rejection.”
“I am in the middle of a project that I would very much like to finish,” Donnie said. “Introducing a high-risk distraction would be counterproductive.”
Leo snorted, eyes returning to the screen. “High-risk distraction? It's a game.”
“I have a documented history,” Donnie said flatly. “I am exercising restraint.”
Tap-tap-tap.
Ping.
“Bummer,” Leo said, although Raph was uncertain if he meant Donnie or another failed run. “What about you, big guy?”
“Maybe Mikey would wanna try,” Raph suggested. The size of his own thumbs had a tendency to make mobile-based games more difficult than they should be.
“Doubt it.” Leo shook his head immediately. “It's a roguelike. You've seen him try to play Spelunky.”
Mikey's voice floated in from further down the stairs. “That game is mean!”
“Exactly!” Leo called back.
Tap-tap.
A beat of silence.
Tap-swipe-tap.
Ping.
“Man,” Raph muttered, “that's a lot of resets.”
Leo shrugged. “Part of the game. You'd understand if you tried it.”
Tap-tap-tap.
Raph stood there for another few seconds, then grabbed an armful of bags off the table.
“Alright,” he said, heading toward the kitchen. “I'm gonna go help Mikey with dinner. Don't stay up all night playing that thing.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Leo said easily.
Tap-tap-tap.
Ping.
Raph rolled his eyes and kept walking.
………………………
The lair was quiet when they returned from patrol.
It had been uneventful, mostly. They had put a stop to a couple minor crimes in progress, but there had been no real fights this time around. It made for a pretty quiet night.
Still, Leo had been solid the whole time, treating every minor threat as though it could turn serious in a moment's notice. It was a drastic change from… before.
He'd also been quieter than usual. Leo seemed a step removed, like he was there, but not quite all the way. He'd rubbed at his eyes a couple times, and blinked a little slower than usual.
He was tired.
Raph hadn't said anything… yet.
Leo stretched, rolling his neck as he flopped down on one of the chairs at the table.
“Man,” he said, “I'm calling it. Next patrol, we bring snacks.”
“Ooh, I'm down for that!” Mikey agreed. “All snacks taste better at midnight. We should have the Caseys come along, too. They always make things more interesting!”
Donnie's bo staff glowed purple as it retracted, slotting neatly into his shell.
“I am retiring for the night,” he announced.
Raph snorted. “You mean you're gonna work some more in your room before actually going to bed.”
“Same thing.”
“I'm going to bed too,” Mikey said, stretching his hands high above his head. “Slow nights are booooring!”
“‘Night, you two,” Raph told them. “I'm sure we won't be far behind.”
“Better not be,” Donnie replied, a metal arm popping out from his shell to nudge Leo as he passed.
“Hypocrite,” the slider replied, unmoving from the chair.
Donnie and Mikey disappeared down the hall, their voices continuing on in a conversation that faded away as they went.
Raph turned back, and caught the now-familiar sound.
Tap-tap-tap.
Ping.
He didn't even need to look to know Leo was on his phone.
“You're still playing that thing?” Raph questioned. “It's been days.”
“It's been like, three days,” Leo replied without looking up. “We've had movie marathons that lasted longer.”
“We just got back.”
“And now I'm unwinding.”
Tap-tap.
No ping yet. They were getting further apart now, as he'd evidently figured out how to make it longer before needing to restart.
Raph watched him for a moment.
Leo's shoulders were a little hunched, his attention locked in. He certainly didn't look unwound.
Tap-tap-tap.
“You've been on that thing a lot,” Raph observed out loud.
Leo shrugged. “It's fun.”
Tap-tap.
Raph stepped a little closer, leaning into Leo's peripheral vision.
“... You been sleeping okay?” he asked tentatively.
Leo didn't miss a beat. “Yeah.”
Tap-swipe.
His fingers paused.
Ping.
Raph raised a brow.
“You sure?” he questioned. “If you're having trouble again, you know we want to help.”
"Raph, I'm fine." Leo finally glanced up briefly, flashing him a quick, easy smile. “I sleep..."
Tap-tap.
"...when I want to."
Raph huffed. “That's not reassuring.”
“Don't worry about it,” Leo said again, fingers tapping away. “If I was having nightmares again, I'd come get you. Promise.”
Tap-tap-tap.
Raph stood there for a bit longer, watching him.
“... Right,” Raph muttered.
He rubbed the back of his neck, then turned toward the hall.
“Don't stay up too late,” he told the slider.
“I won't.”
Tap-swipe-tap.
Raph shook his head, and moved toward his room.
The lair settled into a deeper quiet as the night went on, the kind that only came when everyone was asleep. Or, was supposed to be, at least.
Raph stepped carefully into the hallway, keeping his feet light against the floor. Light still glowed faintly through the windows of Donnie's room.
Of course.
Raph slowed as he reached Leo's traincar.
For a moment, he didn't hear anything.
Then, faint through the blue curtain covering the doorway—
Ping.
Raph stilled. He stared at the curtain for a moment, brow furrowing.
“... Really, Leo?” he muttered quietly.
Ping.
He exhaled through his nose, shaking his head, then turned to walk back to his own room.
He'd check on him again in the morning.
As though Leo's answer would be anything other than “I'm fine.”
……………..
By the end of the week, Raph had started keeping track.
It wasn't in detail like Donnie would, with charts and percentages and whatever other stats he kept on hand. He just couldn't help but notice.
The late nights.
The early mornings.
He suspected sometimes, the late nights bled into early mornings with nothing in between.
Raph leaned against the wall outside the training area, arms crossed, watching.
Leo moved through a set of drills across the room. He was fast, precise, and focused… but, every so often, he'd stifle a yawn. He'd miss a step he normally wouldn't, or roll his shoulder like something ached.
He was tired.
Raph's jaw tightened.
Donnie hadn't even looked up from his tablet when Raph had asked him about it earlier.
“His phone usage remains elevated,” he'd said.
“How elevated?” Raph had asked.
A pause.
“... Too much.”
Raph had frowned. “You say anything to him about it?”
Donnie had made a small, dismissive sound.
“I attempted to,” he'd replied. “He deflected. You know how he is.”
As though Donnie was any different.
“He promised he'll stop as soon as he beats the game,” Donnie had informed Raph. “With how much he's been going at it, I can't imagine it could take much longer.”
Raph wasn't sure he'd believed that, even then.
Now, Leo finished the set with a quick spin of his swords and a sharp exhale, rolling his neck as he stepped back.
And then, almost immediately after putting the swords away, the phone was back in hand.
Leo gave a quick look over his shoulder, as though making sure no one was directly behind him to see the screen, then began again.
Tap-tap.
Raph's eyes narrowed.
That was relatively new.
Earlier in the week, Leo hadn't seemed to care if they saw. He'd been open about it, casually pulling out his phone without feeling the need to make note of who was around. That first day, he'd even seemed like he wanted them to ask. Raph hadn't back then, assuming the contents of the game to be irrelevant.
At some point, wanting to share became willing to share. Willingness turned to hesitancy, then hesitancy to secrecy.
Now, Leo shifted whenever they were nearby, subtly but deliberately blocking the screen from view.
Perhaps Raph should have asked when he had the chance.
Tap-tap-tap.
The runs were getting longer each time, but even so, the resets were inevitable. Sometimes they'd come earlier than others, and Leo would make a face like he was almost angry at the game… Or more likely, angry at himself for a misstep he knew better than to make.
Tap-swipe-tap.
Raph pushed off the wall.
“You gonna tell us what that game even is?” he asked.
Leo startled, then sighed.
Ping.
“I told you,” the slider said. “It's a roguelike.”
“Yeah, I got that.”
“You'd hate it,” Leo said. “I know mobile games aren't your thing.”
Raph noticed how he angled the phone a little further away.
“... Right,” the snapper muttered.
Leo suddenly pressed a side button, screen dimming to black as it locked, and stretched his arms over his head.
“I'm gonna grab a drink,” the slider said, already heading for the door. “Gotta stay hydrated after a workout, right?”
Raph leaned back against the wall, exhaling slowly as Leo casually passed him by with a smile.
Always with a smile.
There was something hidden there, behind it. He just had to figure out what.
All of April's friends are playing it right now.
Raph pulled his own phone out and began scrolling through his contacts. He tapped the screen, and lifted the speaker to his ear.
“... Hey, Raph!” a voice came though on the second ring. “What's up?”
Raph huffed a small breath.
“Hey April, you busy?”
………………
Raph kept his hood up.
Walking around topside in the middle of the day required more caution than it used to, especially when April was involved. The last thing they needed was someone getting a clear photo of her talking to one of them, now that their existence was less of a conspiracy and more a known fact.
He leaned against the brick wall behind one of the campus buildings, arms crossed, keeping to the shade. Students passed by in loose clusters out front, talking among one another. No one paid him any attention.
Good.
Not that long ago, they wouldn't have cared nearly as much. New Yorkers wouldn't have cared nearly as much.
Now, there were pictures.
They were blurry, grainy, and taken from too far away. But they were clear enough to make out four distinct figures moving through the chaos of the krang invasion.
The Internet had done the rest, circulating the images while the turtles depicted in them were too busy recovering underground to do much about it.
Mutant Menace was what people were calling them, having easily made the connection between these new images and the ones Stockboy had put out a year or two prior. The name was spoken differently now, at least, as most seemed to realize whose side they were actually on.
That helped, for sure. The photographs were inconvenient, but a paparazzi was better than an angry mob.
“Raph!”
He glanced up as April rounded the corner, waving at him with her bag slung over her shoulder.
“Hey,” he said, turning to smile at their now college-aged sister.
“Sorry,” she said, “this class goes long sometimes. Tends to start late, too. I don't think the professor owns a clock.”
“It's fine,” Raph told her. “I'm just glad you had the time, with midterms and all.”
“I always have time for you guys,” April told him seriously, pointing a finger at the center of his plastron. “Don't you forget that, either.”
Raph rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah, I know.”
April set her bag down, the textbooks inside thumping heavily against the ground.
“About that game you were asking about,” she began. “I would've shown you guys earlier, but I assumed Leo already did.”
“No,” Raph replied. “But he's been playing it all week.”
April made a face. “Huh. That's odd.”
“He said it's something all your friends are playing?”
“Yeah, it released on the app store recently and kinda blew up,” she said, pulling her phone out of her pocket. “We downloaded it together last time we hung out.”
“You and Leo?”
“Yeah,” April confirmed. “He seemed really into it, actually. Which was kinda a relief, ‘cause I was a little worried it might… y'know.”
Raph tilted his head.
“Oh, right,” April said. “You don't. I… here, just see for yourself.”
April turned her phone toward Raph. Bold letters spelled out a title at the top of the screen.
Mutant Menace: City Defenders.
Raph's stomach dropped.
“... Oh,” he said.
April tapped the screen once to start.
The game loaded a new screen, depicting a stylized version of the city. There were blocky buildings, simplified streets, and… the player characters.
The details were off, of course, but close enough for the inspiration to be clear. Four humanoid turtles, each in their own colored ninja mask: red, blue, purple, and orange.
“... Wow,” he muttered.
“Yeah,” April said. “They got some stuff wrong, but like, it's obviously supposed to be you guys.”
Then the enemies entered.
Pink, blob-like aliens, with writhing tentacles moved in waves across the screen.
Krang.
Or… close enough.
April's initial concern made more sense now.
“And people are just playing this?” Raph asked, a bit incredulously.
“Yeah,” April replied, turning the phone back to pause the screen. “It's a whole thing right now. Everyone's trying to beat each other's high scores at the finish.”
Raph blinked.
“So…” he began to ask. “They're beating the game?”
April frowned slightly. “Well… yeah? It takes a bit of trying, but it's not that hard to get to the end.”
Raph shook his head slowly.
There were things that Leo was undeniably bad at. He was bad at sitting still. He was bad at cleaning his room. He was bad at making toast, for some unexplainable reason.
He was not bad at video games.
Raph paused for a moment, when a thought came to him.
“... How do you get a higher score?” Raph asked.
April glanced down. “Uh—okay, so you clear waves by defeating all the enemies. That moves you forward.”
Raph nodded.
“And then,” she continued, “you get extra points for rescuing civilians before they get krangified. And bonus points based on how many teammates are still up at the end.”
“Extra points,” he said quietly. “Bonus points. So, those are optional?”
“Yeah, I mean—you should try, but—” she shrugged. “You don't lose unless the whole party is down. You're not really meant to get a perfect score in these kinda games.”
Raph's chest tightened. He didn't respond.
He could hear it in his head.
Tap-tap-tap.
Ping.
Reset.
Every. Single. Time.
Raph nodded once, slowly.
He got it now.
“... Raph?” April said, a little uncertain.
He didn't answer her right away.
Because now… Now he understood why Leo hadn't won.
Why he hadn't let himself win.
Tap-swipe-tap.
Ping.
Reset.
Try again.
………………
Raph heard the familiar sound effects before he even reached Leo's door, stopping just outside to stare at the blue curtain hanging over the train car entrance.
He took a deep breath, then stepped closer and knocked against the metal frame.
“Leo?”
The sound effects stopped.
There was a beat of silence, then he heard movement as Leo must have stood up and walked towards the door.
The curtain shifted, and Leo pulled it aside. He leaned against the doorway, phone having been put away or left somewhere unseen.
“Hey,” he said easily. “What's up?”
Raph studied him for a moment.
The dark circles that were no doubt present under his eyes were hidden behind his mask, but the redness and difficulty focusing were apparent. He had the same smile he'd been wearing all week.
“... Can we talk?” Raph asked.
Leo's expression flickered, just a little, but he stepped back and gestured inside.
“Mi casa es su casa,” he said. “Come on in.”
Raph ducked into the room.
Leo's phone was face-down on the bed, screen still lit. The game was most likely paused, tiny figures frozen mid-motion, city locked in place.
Leo stepped in front of it, blocking his view.
Raph looked at Leo.
“Why haven't you finished it yet?” he asked.
“What?”
“The game,” Raph reiterated, nodding towards the phone. “You've been playing it for, what, a week now?”
Leo shrugged. “It's hard. I'll get there eventually.”
Raph didn't move. He took a deep breath, then continued.
“I find that a little hard to believe.”
“Wow,” Leo laughed, “you have no confidence in me.”
“No, Leo,” Raph said. “I find it hard to believe the game is hard for you, when all of April's friends have already beaten it.”
Leo went still.
“... You talked to April,” the slider said, clearly realizing the implications of that.
“Yeah.”
Leo looked away, jaw tightening. For a handful of seconds, he didn't say anything. Then he forced a small shrug.
“Okay cool,” Leo said. “They've beaten it. Good for them.”
“Why haven't you?”
Leo huffed out a breath, dragging a hand over his head. “I told you. It's hard.”
“Leo.”
“I just—I haven't had a good run yet.”
“Leo.”
Leo's voice sharpened. “What do you want me to say, Raph? Because it sounds like you've already decided on the answer!”
Raph took a step forward.
“These kinds of games?” he said, keeping his voice gentle. “They're not made for perfect runs.”
Leo frowned. “Yeah, they are. People one-hundred-percent games all the time.”
“Donnie likes to,” Raph said. “You don't.”
“I'm trying something new.”
Raph just looked at him.
Leo knew. Raph could see it.
“... You can't save everyone,” Raph said quietly.
Leo's head snapped up.
“Yes, I can.”
“No,” Raph said. “You can't. Sometimes it's not possible.”
Leo shook his head immediately. “It is. It's just—there's patterns, okay? The spawns aren't totally random, if you—if you move fast enough, and take the right routes—”
“Leo—”
“I can get through it clean,” he pushed, voice tightening. “I just haven't gotten the right run yet.”
“Why do you have to?”
Leo froze.
“... What?”
“Why does it have to be perfect?” Raph asked again.
Leo stared at him. For a second, it looked like he might deflect again—make a joke, brush it off, act like it was nothing.
But maybe the sleep deprivation had finally started to wear him down.
Or maybe he just realized there was no use denying it when Raph already knew.
“I have to,” he said, voice cracking. “I have to save everyone.”
Raph stayed silent, and let him continue.
Leo's hands curled into fists at his sides.
“I can't—” he swallowed hard, shaking his head. “I can't get to the end if I don't. I—I need to start over.”
Raph's gaze flicked down to the phone, then back to Leo.
“... Why?” he asked again, softly.
Leo's breath hitched.
And then—
“I have to,” he said, voice uneven and tired. “Because the game lets me. I can just—reset, and try again, and do it right—”
His voice wavered.
“... And real life didn't give you that chance,” Raph finished for him.
Silence.
Leo's chin trembled a bit as he tried to compose himself, but it wasn't working. The secret was out, and there was no putting it back.
“I messed up,” he said, quieter now. “I moved when I shouldn't have, and hesitated when—I didn't—”
His voice broke.
Raph hated it.
He hated hearing his little brother's voice break as tears threatened to spill. He hated seeing the way Leo's shoulders shook as he tried to hold himself together.
He hated that he had to push so hard to get here.
“... Leo,” Raph said.
Leo wiped at his eyes, frustrated. “I can fix it. I just need to—to figure it out. There's a—there's a way to do it right, I know there is—”
Raph stepped forward and grabbed his shoulders, just firm enough to stop him.
“Leo.”
Leo stilled.
Raph held his gaze.
“You did everything you could with what you had,” Raph said, voice steady.
Leo's expression crumpled slightly.
“That's not enough,” Leo whispered.
Raph's grip tightened, just a little.
“It has to be.”
Leo looked at him like he didn't believe that. Like he couldn't.
Raph let out a slow breath.
“You don't have to be perfect,” he said. “You're not supposed to be. No one is.”
Leo didn't respond.
“You did your best,” Raph went on. “You got us through it. You saved people. You saved me.”
Leo's eyes watered.
“That's enough,” Raph said. “You're enough.”
Leo's breath hitched. He tried to look away, like he could push it back down and pretend it hadn't gotten to him, but it already had. His shoulders tensed, then shook, and the next breath came out just as uneven.
“I—” he started, then cut himself off, pressing the heel of his hand against his eyes. “I should've—”
His voice broke completely.
Raph didn't wait.
He stepped forward and pulled Leo into a hug, one arm firm around his shoulders, the other at the back of his head.
Leo went rigid for half a second.
Then he folded.
He clutched at Raph's shell, shaking, voice dissolving into emotions spilled straight out from the source.
“I messed up,” he said through the tears. “I could've—I messed up. If I just—if I'd just—”
Raph tightened his hold.
“I can't do it again,” Leo choked out. “I can't fix it, I just—just have to live with it—”
“I know,” Raph said softly.
Leo's breath hitched again.
“And it sucks,” Raph added. “But we all mess up. We're not perfect. That's just life.”
Leo let out a broken laugh that was really more of a sob.
Raph didn't rush him, or try to fill the silence. He just held on, steady and solid, letting Leo get it out.
The last time he'd held Leo like this had been after a nightmare. He couldn't help but wonder, then, how many more times the events of that day would lead to Raph holding his brothers while they cried.
Eventually, the shaking began to ease. Raph shifted slightly, resting his chin lightly against the top of Leo's head.
“You don't have to be perfect,” he repeated. “You being you is enough, for any of us.”
There was a long pause.
“... I'm not sure that it is,” Leo finally admitted, voice small.
Raph closed his eyes.
“Yeah,” the snapper said quietly. “I figured.”
The fact that Raph knew didn't make it hurt any less to hear.
He pulled back a bit, not letting go of Leo, just enough to look at him.
“But it is, and you are,” he said, steady. “Even if you don't believe it yet.”
Leo didn't argue. He didn't agree, either. He just looked exhausted, worn thin in a way that was only in part due to lack of sleep.
Raph pulled him back into the hug, a little softer this time.
He wasn't sure if it had gotten through, not yet. But it would. Raph would make sure of it.
He glanced towards the bed, where Leo's phone still sat, the screen now dimmed. Frozen game waiting exactly where it had been left.
For once, it stayed there.
That night, the lair settled into quiet. Real quiet. There was no distant tapping, no electronic pings.
Just the low hum of the city above them, full of the millions of lives they did save.