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The Hudson is absolutely one of the most disgusting places in New York City. It is fact, it is known, and people stay away from it like the murky waters carry whatever is left of the bubonic plague.
Which is a good thing for a selkie desperate for a midnight swim.
Casey Jones hops across the rooftops, eagerly heading towards the mouth of the river. He’s no fool, the rivers that sprawl through New York have a pretty high concentration of trash because of the currents carrying forgotten plastics at varying speeds. Those plastics eventually get dumped near the mouth of the river but, by then, they’ve at least gotten trapped at the bottom of the Hudson. It’s not a fact he particularly enjoys, the damage to the waterways, but it does allow him to think about his swimming habits logically. Because, logically?
No human being would ever, and he means ever, swim in the Hudson by their own free will. Scratch that, no sentient being in the whole wide world would ever choose to even consider swimming in the Hudson!
Except Casey.
If no one’s around, that means he’s safe to be an antartic animal in a very non-antartic place. Does he run the risk of being mutated by whatever radiation may be contaminating the river’s waters? Uh, the possibility is pretty high, as Donnie would say… but he already runs that risk every other night by fighting the Kraang so… screw it. He’ll swim in the waters of death.
Besides, Selkies need to swim occasionally! Something about their mental health, something about not drying out — Casey doesn’t know the particulars other than the small bouts of eczema he received after trying to swim in a chlorine pool after two months of no swim time. He’s not running the risk of that horrible experience again, not when the Hudson meets the ocean right at the edge of New York.
Still, even for him… the whole thing is a bit gross.
Casey stares down at the murky water below him. The flickering street light from the side alley of the two story building he’s on does next to nothing to make his future escapade look even an ounce appealing. He huffs and tugs his pelt over his shoulder. The things he does to survive! Someone should give him a medal.
“Should’ve gone to the docks,” he mutters to himself as he climbs down the fire escape. It creaks under his weight. “At least then I could've gotten some food, but no. No food for Casey!”
Being around ninjas has really come in handy. He has no trouble quietly making his way over to the edge of the alley, peeking his head around the corner to see if anyone would dare make an appearance. Him being a selkie is a secret, after all, and he’ll be keeping it that way.
No one knows. No one is supposed to know. If they do, he dies. That’s how this works.
Though… though part of him is starting to really regret not telling his new non-human friends that aren’t really new friends anymore because they’ve been friends for at least half a year now if not more and surely they wouldn’t snitch on him right? That’d be ridiculous! Casey’s being ridiculous but also—
He shudders at even the thought of telling the Hamatos what he truly is. His grip tightens on his pelt and he shoves the thought away. As he’s been told time and time before, it’s better this way. It’s better for no one to know.
Just look at what happened to your mother.
The ghost of his father’s voice is what makes him step out from the alley. He quickly crosses the street and to the sidewalk, jumping up and onto the concrete barrier between the road and the Hudson. Despite the gross water before him, he can’t help but feel a bit excited. Like… he gets to swim.
Who doesn’t love swimming?!
Casey grins down at the water, pulls his hood over his head, and—
“Casey!”
—is knocked into the water by a very familiar turtle going mach speed on his skateboard.
Which, uh, would’ve been fine if not for the fact that Casey was very obviously in the middle of transforming into a leopard seal!!
The water hits cold and fast compared to the comfortable warm air he was just standing in. He sinks immediately, feeling the turtle he’s pretty sure is Mikey pushing away from him in a hurry. Opening his eyes to confirm his suspicions, all he finds are bubbles.
Until he doesn’t.
Until he finds two very bright, icy blue eyes that definitely belong to Mikey staring straight back at him.
Except it’s not the Casey Mikey normally knows, no siree. Casey can tell by the way Mikey’s eyes get as wide as baseballs that Mikey isn’t staring at his human form. He’s nearly nose to nose with a giant leopard seal.
It must be shocking. It is for Casey. Didn’t he just think about how secret this secret has to stay? Like, “it would kill him if it got out” kind of secret?! Just his luck! Now he’s gonna die!
Mikey confirms it with a great big scream. A terrified one. Casey is ashamed to say he returns it at a much higher volume… courtesy of the seal vocal chords he now has. It, uh, probably doesn’t help the situation much.
The orange turtle dashes for the concrete barrier. Casey maneuvers easily around to let him by, eyeing the open water of the Hudson because it would probably be super easy to swim off and avoid explaining this all and — and maybe he could convince Mikey this was a dream?! Or something other than the truth?! Because this cannot be happening—
But then Mikey’s out of the water with a few struggling splashes and Casey’s hit with a new fear.
What if he tells everyone else that I’m a selkie?
In a blink, he too is out of the water and pulling his pelt off. He looks around wildly for the runaway turtle only to find he hasn’t really run far at all. Meaning Mikey hasn’t just seen him transform, he's seen him transform back as well.
I need something to smite me right now, Casey thinks hysterically as he stares at an equally freaked Mikey. So, you know, God — since you’re always listening —
“What the shell,” Mikey breathes, eyes still wide. His mask tails droop onto his neck, dripping the toxins from the Hudson.
Casey blinks, opens his mouth to find any excuse to remedy this situation, and fails. He kind of just lets his jaw hang there.
…It’s not his finest moment.
Mikey straightens and runs a hand across his bald head like he actually has hair. “Dude,” he says, voice a little louder and a bit more high pitched than before.
“You’re dreaming!” Casey blurts. He shoves himself off the concrete barrier and balls his pelt up, as if that will hide the evidence that his poor lie could not cover. “Totally dreaming, man!”
“You’re a selkie!”
Annnnnd there it is! Out loud! Casey feels himself pale as Mikey starts to grin, pointing absolutely wildly in his direction. He shakes his head, forces his own smile and hopes it does not crack because — wow! This cannot be happening right now!
“Dude! You’re a selkie!” Mikey exclaims, pointer finger a bit too close to Casey’s space for his liking. He bats it away.
“No, stop — you don’t even know what that is!” Casey hisses back frantically, voice barely above a whisper. “Keep your voice down, Mikey!”
The youngest turtle, one of his best friends in the world, does not listen. “I do, I know what that is! I love mythical creatures dude and oh. my. shell.” Mikey grabs his shoulders tight. “Does this mean other creatures are real too?!”
“Mikey—“
Again, no reaction. Mikey keeps on going on, shaking him excitedly. “Dude! Donnie’s gonna freak! He’s gonna have so many questions and I already have so many questions like — like can your bite turn other people into selkies too?!”
This would be the perfect opportunity to say something along the lines of “No, nobody’s gonna know anything about this,” except he’s too busy wrapping his head around whatever Mikey just said to say that. Instead, he goes: “I’m not a vampire?”
Doesn’t matter anyway. Mikey continues at a rapid fire pace like he didn’t even hear Casey’s answer. “And Raph’s gonna want to wrestle you because who wouldn’t want to wrestle a leopard seal and Leo’s gonna — well, I dunno, probably ask to feel your pelt because he totally is gonna be curious about how that feels and if it’s soft and April’s going to absolutely lose her mind because this means she’s the most human out of all of us and—“
“Mikey—“ he tries again. It’s a weak attempt. Casey’s not exactly sure he’s getting enough air. Ironic, since leopard seals can hold their breath up to 40 minutes and selkies can double that.
The orange turtle absolutely beams at him, water still dripping from his form. “We gotta go tell everyone!”
And, with that simple sentence, something in him snaps. Like usual.
“No!” Casey yells, curling his arms tighter around his pelt but otherwise standing taller. He glares down at Mikey, ignoring the confused scrunch of his eye ridges. “No, Mikey, we aren’t telling anyone anything!”
Mikey blinks and tilts his head, almost like a confused puppy. “We aren’t?”
Casey smiles incredulously at the question. “No! I literally just said— No! We’re not! You aren’t even supposed to know!”
“What? But, wait — you… you weren’t going to tell us?”
“No, Mikey,” Casey snaps, ignoring the twinge of guilt that starts to sprout because that’s a lie. He was considering telling them, he was, he just wasn’t sure if he was actually going to because he couldn’t and— “Nobody is supposed to know! Nobody means nobody!”
The echo of the last word rings through the air. His breaths come in and out unevenly, a bit too short. Mikey’s mask tails keep dripping, even as he stares at Casey with his jaw slightly agape, hands slowly curling into fists.
“We’re your friends, Casey,” Mikey says in a tone Casey can’t quite place. He’s not sure he’s ever heard it before, not from the happy-go-lucky turtle in front of him. “We’re not… we’re not even human. What would we do? Snitch?”
Casey shakes his head, turning to glare out at the water. “It’s not about that.”
“Then what is it about, bro? Trust?”
“No, it’s not like that—“
Mikey tsks and… and actually glares at Casey, like he’s the one in the wrong here.
(Maybe he is, maybe he is. Maybe he’s the jerk here. Maybe he should’ve trusted them. Maybe he should’ve told them. Maybe it would’ve been fine. Maybe it would’ve been fun. Maybe it would’ve been good, to be open and free and loved and known and—
His nightmares with his mother’s blood seeping through the deep blue say otherwise. Casey’s mouth might as well be wired shut with fishing line.
It’s not as easy to cut through as people say.)
“Sure.” Mikey takes a step back. “I get it.”
Casey takes a step forward, keeping his trembling hands hidden in his pelt. “You can’t tell anybody, Mikey,” he demands loudly. The volume keeps his voice steady. It would crack otherwise.
Icy blue is definitely the correct description for Mikey’s eyes. They remind Casey of the icebergs he used to swim around as a pup — pretty but deceptively dangerous. And now he’s pissed off the one turtle he never thought he could piss off.
“Like I said, dude,” Mikey starts, throwing his arms wide. “Who would I tell? Actually, no —“ The orange turtle looks him straight in the eyes. “Who could I tell?”
Casey watches as Mikey snatches up his skateboard and immediately skates off. Now it’s just him on the street, pelt slowly soaking his dry shirt as the night carries on around him. He feels cold, and not the cold that he’d usually welcome with a nostalgic smile. It builds until he shouts and kicks the concrete barrier next to him, ignoring the pain that sprouts from his foot when he does so.
Mikey has a point. Many points. A lot of points that just so happen to be good.
But it can’t be that easy to tell people… right? It already feels like there’s another shoe out there just waiting to drop and ruin his life again. Would it be him to take the fall? Alyssa, maybe? Or even his dad for even daring to marry and have kids with a selkie as a human? Not that he gets along with the man, but… Casey’s not sure he’d be able to live with it if whatever consequences that may be coming hit either of them.
At least Mikey wasn’t scared of me, he thinks while pushing away the flashes of Mikey screaming under water. At least he thought it was cool.
Casey turns back towards the water. He frowns. He kicks the barrier again and stalks off, fighting the urge to rip his own skin off. What’s it matter what Mikey thought if Casey had already ruined everything, anyway?
Is this argument with Mikey even fixable? Casey’s not exactly sorry for anything but yelling… and not being able to properly explain. Would Mikey even want an explanation?
Did… did he just lose—
The Hudson stays still. Casey doesn’t go swimming. He doesn’t see the point, not when he’s already drowning in uncertainty.