#sorrywhatnowfic | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tangledinink · 1 year

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whoa, i wrote a thing. the first chapter of my tmnt "sorry, teenage mutant what now?" au is live on ao3, or can be read below the cut!!! complete with sketchy title card and dumb chapter title. do i have any real experience writing fics??? no!!! am i gonna do my best anyway!?!? yes i am!!!

“Did you drink all the milk AGAIN!? Dude!—"

“What?! You know I need an exact milk-to-rice-chex ratio in order to enjoy my breakfast, Leo!”

“Have any of you seen my dance bag? It’s not where I left it!”

“Why do you need it, anyway? Isn’t dance on Thursday?”

“Leo, today is Thursday.”

“What? No, it’s not. If it was Thursday, then my American Literature essay would be due, and I haven’t even started it yet, so there’s NO WAY—“

“If my toaster is destroyed, I will be making whichever child is responsible pay for the replacement!” The warning rang out over the general chaos of the morning.

“Oh shoot—“ Yoshi could hear the frantic scrabble of a belated attempt to rescue the burning pop tart, which Yoshi could smell from all the way in the living room. Parked in his reclining chair, the TV playing in front of him, he munched contentedly on his own breakfast which he had acquired earlier before his teenage sons descended upon the kitchen. He was not much of a ‘morning person,’ but it was a necessity if he was to eat in any sort of peace in the mornings.

This was a typical morning in the Hamato household.

Yoshi was used to it by now. The bickering, the bumbling, the hectic last-minute "wait I forgot something's--" it was all just a part of the routine. Sure, it had been a bit exhausting at times when they were all still children, and he had to scramble about like a madman each morning to ensure they had everything they needed to get where they were going. But at this point? He could more or less just ignore them and allow them to work things out by themselves, only occasionally needing to step in and offer a bit of guidance. He had always been a bit of a... Hands-off parent, for better or for worse, but he was fairly certain that he had finally found the rhythm of things over the past several years. Not that that made him a perfect parent by any means, there had certainly been plenty of occasions--

"APRIIIIILLLLLL O'NEIL!!!" The battle cry and hearty thud of his poor front door put a sudden end to his narration, and, though it happened near every day, he startled in response, just barely avoiding dropping his tea.

"April!" He bellowed from his chair, turning just enough to peer into the kitchen, where his honorary fifth child (as if he needed any more…) and next-door neighbor had just appeared. "How many times must I tell you?! If you break my door, I will--!"

"Aw, c'mon, Yosh, you know I gotta make a bold entrance at the start of the morning, or my mojo is gonna be off for the whole rest of the day! Besides, I haven't broken the door yet, and it's been how many years?"

“Bah! Haven't broken my door yet, maybe, but what about my bed frame? Or my printer? Or my third-favorite koi fish figurine?!"

"Oh, you wanna play that game now?" O'Neil countered, narrowing his eyes behind scarlet frames, crossing her arms across her chest and cocking one hip to the side. "Okay, then, how about my window? Or my mom's antique vase? Or my literal entire bathroom--"

"Okay! Okay, enough!" Yoshi spluttered with a dismissive wave of his hands. Dammit. The fact he was technically responsible for his sons’ occasional partaking in light property destruction was still, in his opinion, the most unfair and annoying part of parenting. "Fine! Break down the door for all I care! Burn the entire place to the ground! See if I do anything about it! Teenagers..." He muttered with a scowl, shaking his head and returning to his program, an exaggerated scowl on his face. The kids, to their credit, knew well enough by now not to take his rants and mumblings too seriously and quickly re-engaged themselves in whatever gossip and chatter they had previously been wrapped up in.

Yoshi smiled just the tiniest bit, listening with one ear as Donatello explained to a devastated Leonardo that it was, in fact, Thursday, bringing up evidence on his cell phone, and Raphael and April pulled Mikey's dance bag out from inside the oven, where he had forgotten it for the third time this past month.

This was not where he had imagined his life would take him when he was young. Not even close.

He would not trade these moments for anything at all.

By the time his television show was ending, he was just finishing off his tea and shoveling the rest of his bagel into his mouth. Game shows, he had found years ago, were an excellent means of timing routines, and he had it to a science by now. He pulled himself to his feet, stretching and cracking his back loud enough that his children yelled at him from the kitchen, before shuffling his way into the kitchen to begin the work of chasing the teenagers out the door.

"Alright, come on, shoo shoo! You are all going to miss the subway and be late!" He scolded, occasionally swatting at a stray child with his sleeves. "And do not forget anything, because I will not bring it to you!"

"Dad--" Leo began, his eyes blown up huge and pleading. "I don't feel well, I'm pretty sure I've got, like, a tummy bug, or something? Sooo, I should, like, probably stay home--"

"You are not skipping school just because you forgot to do an assignment." Yoshi immediately responded.

"What?! Noooo, Daddy, please, I'm really sick!"

"I was not born yesterday." He scoffed, shooting his son an unimpressed look. "And I have seen you do assignments in far less time! Besides, I'm sure April and your brothers would be happy to help."

A chorus of groans rang from around the table.

“Enough bellyaching! Come on, out of my house! Let's go, chop chop! Anyone who stays home today will be giving me a pedicure!”

That threat always worked. On cue, everyone fell into action. The boys gulped down any remaining breakfast still left uneaten, (whether it was theirs or not,) in between conversations, TikTok videos, and, in Leo's case, loud mourning about the day of the week. Donatello began to long process of buckling up the seventeen different straps on his chunky boots, Michaelangelo passed out lunches to each of his family members, narrating his culinary decisions as he went, and Raphael hurriedly tossed bowls, spoons, and plates into the dishwasher with clatters and clunks.

"I can't find my eyeliner pen-- Nardo, did you steal it? Did you go through my bag?! You DID, didn’t you!!! I am going to delete all of your Minecraft save files--"

"What?! I cannot believe you would make such an accusation, I would never stop to such petty thievery--"

"Mikey, hurry up and grab your skateboard if you're gonna--"

"OW, Dad, Donnie pulled my hair!"

"Oh, what are you, five?"

"HEY, both of you knock it off because Raph makes ya!”

"Wait, did we have a quiz in geometry today--? Because I did not study!!! Raph, this note had better be a joke--!"

After a few final moments of mayhem, Yoshi finally managed to get all five high schoolers out the door, closing the door firmly behind them with a loud sigh.

He loved his children. Truly, he did. But thank god for school.

Grumbling a bit to himself, he got to work straightening the remaining mess left behind. His sons were more than old enough to clean up after themselves and help out around the house, but that still didn't necessarily mean they did it particularly well. Maybe by their late twenties, they'd start to figure that out, if they were anything like their father. He swept up spare crumbs and wiped down the table, putting cereal boxes away in the pantry where they belonged and closing cabinet doors left open.

Boys.

Truthfully, he had very little room to complain and he knew it. Compared to the first four years of parenthood, things were a breeze. Sure, there was still plenty of work to do, but aside from the occasional exhausting day or difficult conversation, he could practically just put things on autopilot by now. He could hardly imagine how his younger self used to get through each day.

Well, perhaps he could, because, if he was being completely honest, he didn't really "get through" most days back then as much as he was bodily dragged in and out of them. But he had realized long ago that lingering on his past shortcomings was not in anyone's best interest.

With school, extracurriculars, friends and neighbors, babysitters, and a shit-ton of parenting classes on his side now, in addition to the general concept of the passage of time, given that his children were no longer children and now teenagers, he had at his disposal something that he had not had even a scrap of for years before "the move."

Free time.

It had been nearly ten years since "the move." Ten years since he and his sons had donned these disguises and bodily forced their way back into society on the back of lies and forged paperwork. Or, well, he had forced his way back into society. His children were just along for the ride-- and new to it all.

Not that you would be able to tell now, he thought to himself, smiling ever so slightly. Ten years… They had lived this way for a long time now.

It had been so long… Some days, he nearly forgot that he was anything but a man.

--------

"Donnie, here, it's your turn."

Donatello sighed loudly, pausing in whatever he was doing on his phone, (Scrolling through Twitter? Purchasing uranium off the dark web? They were equally likely,) but accepting the laptop shoved into his hands anyway.

"Why am I getting the impression that my turns are longer than everyone else's?" He questioned, his brows pinched with gentle annoyance as he glanced at the other four, all piled together on the subway. There wasn’t enough space for all of them, but even finding a couple of open seats was a near miracle this time of day, so they could make do. Stacking Mikey on Raph's shoulders and denying Leo a place to sit, seeing how it was his American Literature essay that they were taking turns writing, did the trick.

"Because you're the smart one," Leo said, his arms wrapped around the nearest subway pole, leaning so he could read over their shoulder. "This is the consequence of referring to yourself as a 'genius' all the time."

"I'm pretty sure I've always made it very clear that I'm a man of science, not literature." Donnie quipped in reply, even as he hunched over the screen, his fingers tick-tacking across the keys.

"Hey, I'm helping too! That whole third paragraph is mostly me." April protested, crossing her arms and slumping against Donnie, purposefully jostling them a bit in retaliation.

"Me too!" Mikey chirped from atop his brother's shoulders, slumped forward to avoid smacking his head on the roof. "I changed all the punctuation to fourteen-point font to make it longer!”

"Smart." Donnie hummed, not looking up, in such a tone that it wasn't quite clear if he meant it or not. Mikey beamed at the praise nonetheless, a bright grin lighting up his face as he crossed his arms over his brother's forehead.

"Look, it doesn't have to be good. It's just gotta be three pages before third period." Leo said. "I mean, Donnie could also always just hack into the school's gr—“

"Hey!" Raph barked. "We all agreed that that was for emergencies only!"

"Okay, okay, fine!" Leo sighed, a bit of sulkiness saturating his voice, holding his hands up in mock surrender. He reluctantly accepted the laptop when it was passed back over to him, propping up a knee to balance it on and hunching over to type.

"I thought Mikey set up that whole system with you. With the reminders and that agenda app and everything?" April questioned, glancing up at Leo curiously-- perhaps suspiciously.

"He did. I've just been..." He paused, hesitating in his words for just a second. "Busy."

"Oh no." April groaned.

"Not again." Donnie sighed.

"Who is it this time?" Raph asked, quirking a brow.

"What! I have noooo idea what you guys are talking about--"

"Leo."

"Okay, fine. Chase DeFerro." Leo muttered, his eyes immediately flicking to the side to avoid the inevitable reactions of his family.

"Chase DeFerro?"

"The same Chase DeFerro from five months ago?"

"Didn't you two have, like, a horrible break-up?"

"Didn't you block him on, like… Everything?"

"Didn't you say, and I quote, "If I ever have to even see that nasty bitch again in my entire life, it'll be too soon, and I swear to god I'll chop off--"

"Okay, okay! Hey, come on! That was five months ago. Things are, like, totalllyyyy different now!" Leo insisted.

“You said that about the last, like, three guys you’ve dated,” April said, unimpressed.

"Leo, have you ever stopped to consider that, perhaps, your need to constantly be in some kind of a relationship may have some kind of deeper connection to your own feelings of self-worth and the way that you assign value to--"

"Whoa there, Doctor Feelings! Chill! It's not that deep!" Leo scoffed, shooting Mikey an annoyed look. Ugh, he knew he shouldn't have brought it up. "Seriously. I'm just bored, okay? Quit trying to read into it."

"Bored?" Raph echoed, looking at the other with big eyes. "Leo, you can't treat love like it's a game like that! Come on!"

"It's not love, Raph, it's high school dating." Leo scoffed, giving a dismissive wave of his hand. “Anyway! Look, I'm only, like, fifty words short and then I'm home free. Who's got the next turn?"

"Fine." April sighed, rolling her eyes. “Only because your girl here writes a killer BS essay conclusion. But you owe me. Hand it over."

True to her word, the last-minute literature assignment was wrapped up shortly, and the remainder of the train ride was instead occupied by chatter and gossip, discussing upcoming tests and assignments in school, rumors circulating the hallways, and plans for weekends and far-off holidays. On the occasion it got too loud to hear each other properly, they’d sign to each other instead, and then switch back once it quieted down once more. The five scrambled their way off the subway when they arrived at their stop, making their way up the stairs and back to street level.

Leo inhaled deeply as he hopped up the final few stairs, his sneakers giving a satisfying thud on the concrete below them with each step. He had no complaints about the subway, (well, no more than the average person, anyway,) but there was always just something especially refreshing about getting to breathe fresh air after spending any amount of time underground. Even if the fresh air was New York City air. Call him crazy, but he'd never get tired of it.

The group began the final length of their journey, closing the three-block gap between the subway station and their high school-- most of them on foot, Mikey on his skateboard, though he was less skateboarding and more standing on his skateboard and hanging onto the back of Raph's shirt so his older brother would drag him along. Leo wondered absently if he could get away with that, too, before April's voice finally snapped him back into reality.

"You busy after school today?"

"Until six!" He replied, stretching his arms back to lace his fingers behind his head as they walked. "Dee and I have gymnastics."

“Next competition is tomorrow.” Donnie hummed, not looking up from his phone. "So we're getting in the extra hours."

"You know we've got a rep to uphold!" Leo sing-songed, his mouth stretching into a wide, smug grin. "Gotta keep that flawless record for the rest of the season."

It was very well known, to anyone who ran in such circles, that the Hamato Twins were all but sure to take the top two places in any gymnastics meet that they showed up to-- it was just a question of in what order they would do so. Of all the various sports that they participated in, gymnastics was just about the only one where it was truly a coin flip. The only other two extracurriculars they shared were swimming, where Donnie consistently took first place, and martial arts, where they both knew Leo was more likely to come out on top. But gymnastics? It was anybody's guess, and they flip-flopped from first to second just about every other event. For just a moment, Leo caught his twin's eye-- coz he knew he was thinking the exact same thing right now.

Coz he knew they both wanted to win.

Coz they both wanted to rub it in the other's face.

(Of course, they both also knew that the only reason they got to have this little song-and-dance to begin with was because Mikey was still in the age bracket below them. Wouldn't everyone be just so delighted to finally see the Hamato Twins usurped in the coming season... By another Hamato.)

“And Raph has work… Ugh! Y’all are too damn busy!” April huffed, leaning her head back and wrinkling up her nose.

“I’ve got a little bit of time.” Mikey chimed in, leaning over just enough to offer April a grin. “I don’t gotta be at dance until four. I was gonna go work on that mural I’ve got going up north. Wanna come?”

“Beats sitting at home doing homework.” April reasoned, giving a shrug. “I’m in!”

“Shweet!”

Leo smiled a tiny bit. Though he did, in fact, have complete confidence in his little brother’s ability to traverse the city safely, it was still kind of nice to know he’d be with someone else. If, for no other reason, then to know that Raph would now worry about Mikey at least 80% less during the coming evening.

“Alright,” Speaking of worrisome older brothers, Raph began his typical pre-school speech as they approached the front entrance. “No one be late. No one skip class.” Who, him? What was that pointed look for? He would never… Get caught more than once in a week. “And no one get in any trouble. Don’t do anything Raph wouldn’t do.”

“Yes sir!” The four of them barked in reply as they approached the entrance of their high school. Mostly, they were all just making fun of him. But Leo figured humoring him wouldn’t hurt, especially if it helped him chill a little bit. Raph had always taken his role as “the biggest brother” pretty seriously, ever since they were really little, though Leo wasn’t exactly sure why. He was always the one in charge whenever their dad wasn’t around, and Leo suspected he had a hard time ever completely dropping that mindset.

I mean, don’t get him wrong, Raph was just as capable of fucking around, goofing off, and getting into shit as the rest of them, for sure, he just sometimes wished he could… Relax a little. It wasn’t like anything bad was gonna happen, but Raph always kind of just had this air to him like he was expecting enemies to leap out from behind the corner and attack them at any moment. Like he always had to protect them all. Which Leo could get, sure, but, like… Wouldn’t it be kind of cool if someone did try to start some shit with them or something, just so that they could see the look on their face when they totally kicked their ass? Leo could only imagine it’d be pretty hilarious.

The five of them went their separate ways, parting with various promises to see each other at lunch, after school, at home, etc. April and Raph went one way, Mikey went another, and Leo and Donnie split off in a different direction still, heading towards the East Wing.

And as they cleared the corner, Leo whipped around to face Donnie, stabbing them in the side with a spare elbow. “Last one to homeroom gets second place at gymnastics tomorrow!” He declared, immediately taking off down the hall.

“Wha— Leo! This is unfair, I’m wearing platforms! You know I’m wearing platforms!” Donnie shrieked in protest, even as he broke into a run behind him.

Leo whooped in reply, throwing himself over the railing of the nearest staircase, knowing his twin brother was right on his tail.

-----

“Come on! Harder!!! SHOW ME WHAT YOU GOT!” Raphael roared, pumping a fist in the air. “LET’S GO! GIVE IT TO ME!”

The gaggle of six-year-olds in the water in front of him, all clinging to the pool wall, giggled loudly in response to his over-the-top encouragement, kicking their legs even harder in a flurry of limbs and dousing him in chlorinated water.

“Whoa, whoa, okay! You gave it to me! I surrender!” Raph chuckled, holding his hands up to shield himself. “Alright, alright. Good job, team! You did great today. Okay, let’s wrap up—“

“Raph! RAPH!”

“What?”

“Raph, we gotta do the ferry!” Penelope, the loudest of his students, insisted, her face all screwed up with determination. The other four children nodded along fervently. “We can’t get out until we do ferry!”

“Oh, RIGHT. Ferry. Sorry, Raph almost forgot!” He chuckled, thunking his own forehead with the butt of his palm, feigning forgetfulness, as if he hadn’t always intended to do their usual wrap-up game. Class ended with a game of “Ferry” every time, without fail, especially given that he touted it as the ‘reward’ that they had to work for each week by following directions and working hard. He shifted slightly in the water, turning his back on the kids still clinging to the wall. “Okay— hop aboard”

The five elementary schoolers squealed in delight, launching themselves off the pool wall to clamber over the teenager instead, climbing over his broad shoulders and hanging off of his arms. Raph gave a soft little ‘oof,’ at the impact, though it was mostly for show, snorting softly in amusement as Penelope all but climbed on top of his head. Reminded him of Mikey.

“Okay— GO!” She shouted once she was sure all her cohorts were fully boarded, the whole group buzzing with excitement despite the fact that they did this every week. Raph gave a soft hum of acknowledgment, slowly setting off on their lap around the pool. In the shallower end, where they started, he didn’t even really have to swim at all— He could just walk with his body lowered enough in the water to give the illusion of swimming. Or, more precisely, the illusion of ‘ferrying.’

“Welcome everybody to Penelope’s Ferry Ride. I’m Penelope, the tour girl. Over there’s the Empire State Building.” Penelope narrated happily from her perch, gesturing to the bleachers. “And over there is the Statue of Liberty.” The pool noodles. “And over there’s the Milky Way. And that’s the, uhhh, the Big Bridge…”

“Wait, how long’s this ferry ride? Raph didn’t sign up for no world tour!” Raph protested teasingly, to which Penelope sharply shushed him before continuing her narration. The other children bubbled with laughter at her increasingly ridiculous tourist attractions and descriptions. Reminded him of Leo and Donnie.

Raph chuckled softly to himself as he moved into the deeper end of the pool, transitioning into an easy breaststroke to keep them all afloat on their way. It was, admittedly, a bit more difficult to swim with five kids on his back than it was on his own, but Raph was a strong swimmer. This was no problem. Besides, it’s not like he was in a rush or anything.

Honestly? This was his favorite part of these lessons. No worrying about everyone paying attention or being involved. No worries about anyone wandering off when he had them all on top of him and undoubtedly accounted for. No stressing about remembering the lesson plan or rules… He could just swim. He knew it sounded dumb, but sometimes, with all the kids piled on top of him like this, he felt like some sort of big plodding swamp creature, floating lazily down the river with the world on his back.

He took his time about it, but he eventually made his full lap around the pool, coming to a stop by the stairs and gently chasing the kids off of his shoulders.

“Alright, come on, squirts. Ferry ride’s over.”

“Nooo!” Penelope whined, clinging to his head. “One more lap! PLEASEEE!”

“Hey, come on, you know the rules! If you don’t listen to Raph, you don’t get a ferry ride next week!” He warned, slowly peeling her off of his back. “Go on. Get outta here.” He insisted, though fondly, smiling a bit as she huffed and scowled… But she got out anyway, joining the rest of the kids running to their parents, all with towels in waiting arms, listening to the children excitedly chatter about what they learned today.

Raph smiled just the tiniest bit. He remembered when they had been that small, taking swim classes here. He, Donnie, and Leo had all been thrilled to take to the water, adoring each and every lesson.

They all loved it— Except Mikey. He recalled listening to his littlest brother scream bloody murder as their father attempted to coax him into the water, trying everything from reason to bribes to threats of consequences.

“You don’t need to like to swim, Michelangelo. But you need to be able to.” He remembered his father saying. “I need to be sure you will be safe if you ever end up in the water by yourself.”

If anyone asked, he’d tell ‘em that he took the job just to make some extra pocket money. But, at least a little bit, that was kinda why. He liked the idea of helping to keep people safe. Even if it was just teaching kids how to doggy paddle.

Doing all the small talk at the end of the lessons with the parents was definitely his least favorite part, however, and he always found himself kind of stammering and stuttering his way through it. After some short, “Oh, yeah, she’s doin’ great!” and “For sure, perfect behavior’s!” tossed at some parents, he was, thankfully, able to duck away into the office, his own towel flung over his shoulders to try to avoid tracking water everywhere.

“All done?” The office receptionist, Jessica, chirped in her usual friendly demeanor, glancing over at the other as he entered.

“Just about. I just gotta clean up as soon as the kids are all gone and we’ll be done.” He replied, ruffling his hair dry.

“Did you remind the parents that we’re closed next week?”

Raph froze.

“… Uhhhh…”

Jessica sighed a bit, glancing over her shoulder to give him a look. “I reminded you before the lesson started!”

“I know! I just— Raph forgot, okay? I can only hold so much stuff in my brain at one time before stuff just starts to fall out! I was thinkin’ about swimming stuff!” He defended. “‘Sides, it was your job to remind me to remind them! So obviously we both dropped the ball.” Jessica didn’t look quite convinced, but Raph was pretty sure his logic was solid. “Can’t we just, like, put up some flyers and send out an email and all that junk?”

Rolling her eyes, Jessica turned back to her computer and began to type. “Yeah, yeah… Can’t really do flyers, but I’m working on that email.”

“Why not? Just put a sign up on the door.”

Jessica looked over at him again, raising a brow. “You haven’t heard about the paper shortage?”

Raph blinked slowly.

“… The what.”

“Yeah! It’s a whole thing. I dunno, I guess there are, like… Paper thieves or whatever robbing all the paper stores and stuff in the city? We haven’t been able to get any new orders in for a few weeks now.” She explained.

“Paper thieves?” He echoed, incredulous. “And they... steal paper.”

“Yeah. They steal paper.”

“Who the heck steals paper?”

“I dunno! I just saw it on the news.” Jessica shrugged. “I guess the police are working on it or whatever.”

“I guess.” Raph said, shrugging a bit, though he still couldn’t help but find the whole thing a bit amusing. I mean, come on. Paper thieves? It was only paper. -------

"Dadddd!" Mikey called as he swung his way into the door, kicking his shoes off into the general direction of the pile where shoes were typically kept, tossing his duffle bag to the side. He'd come back for it later and put it away, he swears. "I'M HOMMMEEE!"

It had been a long day, in between school, painting, and dance practice, so it was almost nine by the time he got home, but he didn't really mind. He liked being busy! If he didn't have stuff to do, it was just, like, all the energy would build up and up and up in all his limbs and his body and his chest like something sticky and hot about to boil over, condensation gathering at the top of his skull, and then he just went kinda crazy. That makes sense, right? He was pretty sure his brothers were kinda like that, too, so he figured it was probably mostly normal. He sometimes wondered if that was why their dad let them sign up for so many after-school activities. The only downside was the limited time leftover to tackle homework and personal projects. Walls weren’t just gonna paint themselves, after all!

"What's for dinner?" He shouted across the house, shucking his backup off and beginning to unpack, collecting his various textbooks and notepads.

"Oh, since you were not home, Michelangelo, I have had no choice but to cook for our family--"

"Dad."

"But do not worry, my son, I am making the most delicious meal--"

"Dad."

"Boiled liver and onions! You boys' favorite! With chopped earthworms, yum yum yum!"

"DAD! You're not funny!" Mikey yelled, even though there was laughter in his voice. Their dad did this bit every time, and he hated how it was always kinda funny.

"Pizza is on the table." His father called back, and Mikey let out an excited cheer.

"YEAH BABY! That's what I was hoping you'd say!" He shouted, hopping up to his feet and beelining it to the kitchen. His brothers had clearly already done a round, based on the empty boxes and missing slices, but he knew they wouldn't dare leave him without his fair share. That's youngest child privilege. They knew damn well that he’d cry at them.

"How was school today, my son?" Dad always asked about school first and everything else second, every time.

"Id'was gooh'." Mikey mumbled, in between the pizza slice already hanging out of his mouth, piling several more slices onto his plate. "We're readin' th' O'ssey--"

"Orange, I cannot understand anything you are saying."

Mikey spit the half-chewed pizza slice back out onto the plate, which earned a really fun look from Dad, and he grinned.

"Sorry! We're reading the Odyssey in English class, which is fine, I guess, but it's kinda a lot to get through, so we're translating it to, like, real human words, annnndddd we gotta do a group project presentation thing, and I like all the people in the group project but you KNOOWWW how group projects are." He reported, rapid-fire, giving a dramatic sigh. "Oh! And I got my Algebra test back and I got! A seventy-nine!"

"Oh! Very good, Mikey. I am glad your studying paid off." His father replied with a small smile, and Mikey beamed. "And how was dance?"

"Awesome! I killed it, as per use'." Mikey said proudly, puffing out his chest a bit. "Miss Vega said that I just gotta tighten up my turns and I'll be all ready to destroy the competition next weekend!"

"Excellent. Good job, Orange." His dad said with a chuckle, patting Mikey's shoulder before making his way back into the living room, no doubt to reunite his butt with his beloved reclining chair and put on some TV series that no one else in the family appreciated. Mikey grabbed three more slices of pizza while his dad’s back was turned, and then scampered off, heading deeper into the apartment.

Considering they lived in New York City, they lived in a pretty spacious abode. Mikey couldn't remember a time in his life when there wasn't lots of room to stretch out and run and jump around. He remembered, back when he was really little, some of the hallways being big and long enough to even echo-- though he sometimes wondered if that had just been his imagination. Some of the stuff they would make up back then was pretty wild. Their dad had bought this big old brownstone apartment way back when they moved into Brooklyn, buying up the entire building so that they had all four floors, plus the basement, to themselves. Mikey recalled, vaguely, all the renovations that had gone into it when they first moved to New York, adjusting the fixer-upper into something where four very active children could be raised without feeling cramped. The building was tall and skinny, slotted neatly in with the rest of the city, and Mikey had always loved that. This meant it they had the perfect hallways for running back and forth through, and there was a surplus of staircases for him to slide down or jump over. The hardwood floors were perfect for both Tokyo Drifting and dance practice. They each had gotten their own rooms as they grew as well, with himself and Raph on the second floor, Leo and Donnie on the third, and their father taking the master bedroom on the ground level.

But the best bit was the basement. Lovingly dubbed "The Lair," their dad had designated it the hub for childhood shenanigans, (and now, teenage activity,) from the get-go, all but sacrificing the space to his sons from the moment they moved in. The house was technically his, sure, but the basement was theirs, like, for real for real. Arcade games and consoles lived down here, hooked up to the big TV on the wall and surrounded by beat-up beanbags. Raph's weight-lifting equipment was in that corner there, and Donnie's bigger, more mechanical projects were over there by the stairs, (with the yellow tape and the "do not touch" signs.") This big wide open space here with the mirrors on the walls and the punching bags mounted on the ceiling was perfect for both martial arts, acrobatics, and dance practice, depending on which kind of matting they laid out. And, best of all, the Lair was the one place in the house where their dad had reluctantly conceded that, yes, Mikey. You may paint on the walls.

The Lair was typically the best bet for finding any of his brothers, especially if they weren’t holed up in their rooms, and Mikey did think about heading down there, too… But, as very tempting as it was to hang out with brothers first and do math worksheets later was, he was pretty sure he could get through his homework in, like, thirty minutes, tops, and just get it all out of the way. Plus, this way, he didn't have to worry about anyone else making any grabs for his dinner.

With this in mind, he tromped his way up the stairs, nudging his sticker-adorned door open and dumping all his stuff on his desk, immediately shoving the previously-abandoned pizza slice back into his mouth again. He flipped open his textbooks, switched his speakers on to fill the space with some chill lofi beats to study to, and nudged his desk lamp awake as he settled in to get to work.

His workload had been pretty light recently, with way fewer teachers than usual handing out paper worksheets and questionnaires to bring home, so it didn't take him very long to get through all the assignments and readings. (Also, lowkey, it was times like these that he was, like, wow. Thank god for Adderall.) He was nearly done with the last of his work when he suddenly paused.

Dang. Artistic inspiration was truly a cruel but wondrous mistress. Okay, homework later. He scrambled for his phone, rewinding the song playing over the speakers. Ooh, yeah, okay-- That bass? Oh, hell yeah, this was really good! He could absolutely see the movement in his mind's eye-- he could picture the way the color swooped along with the beat and brightened along with the melody. Oh-- and what if he added some black outlines? What was the title of this song again...? Maybe he should look up the artist. He wondered if this would be better as a direct homage to the artist, (maybe the title up on a wall, in big curved block letters, yellows popping along the edges to pull it into the foreground, and that red in the center to sink it in--) or if this should be a more narrative piece. It made him think of that one movie that they watched two weekends ago-- with the spy and the watering can factory?! And this one line, about the lightning, he could just see the way he could paint a figure to answer that directly. Was it too ambitious to do a zig-zag line of action? Oh, but if he had the leg out like that...

He flipped the page of his notebook, his pencil skritching feverishly on the sheet as he moved to put these thumbnails into reality while they were still ticking through his mind in a slideshow. He paused only to command Spotify to play the song on repeat, his tongue stuck out of the corner of his mouth and his eyes narrowed. Ohmigosh, yes! This would be perfect. He couldn't believe he had never thought of this before. This song had been on his playlist for how long? He had just kind of been spacing out until now, but suddenly, he was so excited about this project.

And it would be the perfect excuse to use those metallic spray paints he's been hoarding! He practically vibrated with excitement, thumbing the paper with a grin. Oh, that would look amazing. Just a bold streak of shimmery color, bursting out from the composition, like an explosion, he could see it so clearly--

Half a thought later, the spiral-bound notebook in front of him burst into flames.

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#sorrywhatnowau #fidgetwing #tmnt #rottmnt #tmnt human au #human turtles #fanfic #tmnt fanart #tmnt fanfic #tmnt fanfiction #rottmnt fanfiction #if anyone wants to beta read for me be my guest lol #guess r/n i gotta nobody on that which is probs not #the best play lmao #sorrywhatnowfic #long post

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tangledinink · 1 year

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Chapter Eight of I'm Sorry, Teenage Mutant What Now? is up! The Hamatos talk to some extended family in hopes of getting some answers... but they mostly get more questions. Read on ao3 or below the cut!

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"Mikey."

Hm...?

"Mikey!"

Couldn't they tell he was sleeping right now...? He was having a really good dream... Just... Five more minutes...

"MIKEY!"

Ah! Okay!!! He was up!

Mikey kind of squeaked in surprise, flopping down on his bed a lot harder than he was expecting. In fact, he hadn't been expecting to flop down on his bed at all. And what was Leo doing in his room? He kind of blinked, a bit dazed for a moment, staring at his brother.

"... Did something happen?" He asked after a second, still a bit out of it. What was going on? He had been dreaming, he remembered, which was not unusual for him. He dreamed almost every night, for as long as he could remember. He and Dad had been cooking together... They were making something, but he couldn't remember what now, the dream already fading away, retreating to the corners of his mind... But he had been so excited, and his dad had...

Oh. Right.

Dad wasn't here. Dad was missing. Mikey's expression dropped as the memory came back to him, and he lost Dad all over again, all the grief and anxiety and fear coming crashing back.

He hadn't enjoyed dreaming as much lately.

"Uhm, yeah something happened!" Leo all but shrieked, his eyes blown up wide. "You were floating! And glowing!"

Mikey blinked slowly at him. "... What?" He said after a minute. "Uhm. Leo. Are you okay? And... what are you doing in my room?"

"I don't-- I-- that's not the point!" Leo snapped, his face flushing dark as he scowled. "The point is that you were doing spooky magic stuff in your sleep! Which is definitely not normal! What the hell is going on?! Did you do that on purpose?! Are you possessed by a demon!? I told you to stop going on that Reddit forum!"

"What?" Mikey gawked, his brows furrowed. "What are you even talking about? And what Reddit forum?"

"The one with the guy! And the pan?"

"... The hundred coats of seasonings guy?"

"Yeah! That one!"

"You think that the hundred coats of seasonings cast iron pan guy possessed me like a demon?"

"I'm saying that that kind of behavior is clearly of the devil!!!" Leo cried. "I mean, come on! A hundred coats?! And also that you were definitely floating a second ago!!!"

"Uh..." Mikey frowned a bit, his brows furrowing. This was... not really in-character behavior for Leo. Was lack of sleep finally getting to him? He did seem pretty convinced about this whole 'floating and glowing' thing, and... well... things had been kind of weird recently. His mind wandered vaguely back to his notebook, may it rest in pieces, and he bit the insides of his cheeks.

But floating? Glowing?

"Do you think maybe you were dreaming, Leo?" He ventured after a moment, tilting his head to the side.

"What?! No! I was not dreaming! I mean-- I was, before, but I mean, I wasn't during that part! I woke up! I swear!"

"Are you sure?" Mikey said, doubt beginning to creep into his voice, despite his best efforts at keeping things level. "'Cause, I mean, I know we're all kind of stressed..."

"Look, I know what I saw, okay!" Leo insisted. "Everything was... orange! It was like you ate a bunch of freaking fireflies or something! You were in the air! And, like, okay, yes, maybe, I had a crazy dream also, and I guess I must have sleepwalked in here, which is weird but that doesn't mean-- I know what I saw! There's no way I imagined that, Mikey, there's just no way--"

Mikey listened for a while, all droopy-eyed, still half-asleep, before he slowly scooted over to the far side of his bed, pulling open the covers for the other.

Leo groaned loudly in frustration, dragging his hands down his face and glaring at him for a moment. Mikey was afraid he was gonna have to argue, which he was not awake enough to do, before Leo finally climbed into bed with his brother, all grumpy and indignant as he did so.

"This is not over."

"Mmhmmm..."

"We're not done talking about this, Miguelito."

"Mmm..."

"I know what I saw. And this is not an admission of wrongness, either! I am doing this for your sake!"

"Leo. Shut up."

Leonardo grumbled loudly, rolling over onto his side, the two of them comfortably back to back under the covers, but thankfully, for once, did as he was told.

---

“Dad,” Leo whispered excitedly, hoisting himself up onto their father’s bed by the sheets. It took a few tries, but eventually, he managed to get himself up there, scrabbling up to the surface and scooting across the mattress so that he could shake his dad’s shoulders. “Dad. Dad!!!”

He watched his father startle slightly as he was awoken, his eyes bleary as he stared at his child, mouth agape. “Hm…? Wha…?”

“Dad! It’s really important.”

“Wha… what is it, Blue?” Dad mumbled softly, smacking his lips a few times, but still rolling over in bed so that he could face his son properly. “What do you need?”

“What comes after seventy-nine?”

His dad blinked slowly, fighting to keep his eyes open. “What?”

“What number comes after seventy-nine? I forgot.”

Dad mumbled softly, taking a moment before he finally responded. “... Eighty. Like how eight comes after seven, remember, my son…?”

“OH! Yeah! Eighty!!!”

“Yes. Eighty.”

“I was counting the stuff on the fish poster.”

“Mmmm…”

“‘Cause I couldn’t sleep.”

“Mmm-hmmm…”

“And ‘member, ‘cause, you said, uh, you said before that if I couldn’t sleep, I should try counting stuff? So I was counting all the different things on the, uhm, the fish poster, with the shark on it. That’s my favorite poster. It’s better than the basketball one, even. Donnie agrees. But, and, and I was counting it and I got all the way up to seventy-nine!” Leo declared proudly. “But then I forgot what came next. There’s still more stuff on the poster.”

“Mmmm… very good, Blue…”

“Yeah,” Leo said, beginning to pull some of the covers aside. His dad grumbled a bit, but his eyes were already closed again. “I’ve never counted up that big before all by myself.”

“Very impressive…”

“Do you think I can get to a hundred?” Leo questioned, burrowing in with his father, pulling the blankets back up over both of them. “All by myself?”

“Mmm-hmmm…”

“Donnie can count to a’hundred. And then even higher than that!”

“Mmmm…”

“I wanna do it, too,” Leo whispered, curling up small, tucking himself up against his Dad’s side and clinging to him slightly. His feet were kind of cold from the walk over, so he pressed them up against his dad’s legs to warm them back up. “It’s gonna be so awesome…”

“Mmmm.”

“... Dad?”

“Mmm?”

“Do you think there’s a whole hundred things on the fish poster for me to count? Or will I run out? ‘Cause I don’t know exactly how many is on there. Just that it’s more than seventy-nine.”

“Leonardo…”

“Uh-huh?”

“Go to sleep,” Dad mumbled tiredly, wrapping an arm around his child, squeezing him tight. “I am sure things will work out. Right now, just sleep.”

---

April was not expecting to get jumped before she even made it to the breakfast table. She wasn't exactly excited about it, either, stumbling a bit as Leo grabbed her by the arm, yanking her down the hallway to literally corner her. Hey now, wait a minute-- this had been her plan!

"April, something's wrong with Mikey," Leo hissed fervently under his breath, his eyes narrowed into slits, and April's heart fell into her stomach.

"What happened?!" She immediately demanded, her eyes wide, a million possibilities flying through her head. Oh god, she knew she should have kept a closer eye on him-- she knew he was more upset than he was letting on and yet she still--!

"I caught him floating above his bed last night. And glowing! Like the freakin' exorcist or something!"

April's expression rapidly shifted.

"Okay, I know you did not just give me a heart attack for no goddamn reason Hamato Leonardo."

"What?!"

"This is not funny! I thought something really bad actually happened!"

"I'm being serious! Come on, April, you have to believe me!"

"Uhm. Okay. Well, first of all, let the record show that I do not have to do anything," April scoffed, placing a hand on her hip, giving the other a rather unimpressed look. "Second of all, while we’re here, let the record also show that I also do not appreciate you picking a fight with my mom yesterday!"

"ME?!" Leo gaped, his brows raising up. "I didn't pick a fight with her! She picked a fight with me!"

"What! She did--"

"Look, this is so not the issue! April, I'm being serious! I saw Mikey floating last night! It was freaky! He was sleeping and he was just, like, hovering over his bed! And I don't know what to do! If I tell Raph, he's just gonna freak out, and you know Donnie will never believe me!" He begged.

April narrowed her eyes.

"... When's the last time you slept?"

"Oh, come on, April!" Leo groaned, throwing his head back. "I slept last night! I swear! Ask Mikey! I really, really did!"

"Ask Mikey?" April echoed. "Leo, what were you even doing in Mikey's room to begin with?"

"That's. Uh. Well, that's beside the point!"

"Leo."

"This isn't about me--"

"Leo!"

"Okay! Fine! I don't know!" He groaned, wrinkling his nose, squeezing his eyes shut. "I don't remember, okay? I think I was sleepwalking or something, but I really was awake for the Mikey part! Something for real weird is going on with him! Remember when his notebook caught on fire?"

"I thought you guys said that that was a cover story," April said, pursing her lips. "And I hope you know how this sounds, Leo."

"I do, and I know, but now I think... I dunno, maybe it actually happened? I mean-- I just-- I dunno how else to explain this stuff, April! You saw Dad disappear too! You know that wasn't natural, I know that you saw it."

"Look, Leo, I know that you're under a lot of stress, and you don't always sleep very well..."

"April. Please," Leo pressed again, his voice tight and his eyes wide. "Come on. I don't know how to deal with this on my own. I need your help."

April sighed softly, her shoulders slumping a bit as she examined the other's expression. Why did he have to look so goddamn sincere and pathetic...? That just made this so much harder!

... But, as much as she hated to admit it, he... did have a little bit of a point. She had run the scene through her head about a million times now, and she still had no idea what she saw. Yoshi and the intruder had been right in the middle of the room, and then they just weren't. How did something like that happen?

"... Okay, fine," she relented, frowning as she crossed her arms over her chest. "Let's say I believe you. Which I'm not saying I do! What are we supposed to do about it?"

Leo gave a sigh of what might have been relief, pursing his lips slightly. "I dunno," he admitted. "But something weird is going on. So I think we're gonna have to do some digging..." He scrunched up his face. "... And that means we might have to get Donnie on board."

"I thought you said he'd never believe you," April said, knowing that he wouldn't.

"He won't. So we're gonna have to be... creative," Leo said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "C'mon. Let's go."

"Uhm, no? I'm getting breakfast first."

"Ughhh. Seriously? Fine. Breakfast, and then let's go."

Ooh, April was gonna kill this boy. Though she was, admittedly, a lot less inclined towards violence once she had a wildberry poptart in her system. Reluctantly, she followed Leo upstairs to the third floor to rap on Donnie's door. Leo cautiously peeked his head inside, creaking the door open slowly.

"Heeyyyyyy, Donnie...? You up?" The two of them peered into the room where they found their brother, hunched over their computer. They barely even turned to face them before they began signing.

'Leo, if this is about hacking Mrs. O’Neil's phone again, I already told you, you would still have to get parental consent to go on air, you're a minor--'

"What?!" April yelped. Scratch that last part about feeling less violent, she was going to strangle him. "Leo!--"

"HAHAHA, Donnie, I have no idea what you're talking about! This is completely unrelated to that other request that I definitely never made of you!" Leo laughed loudly, swinging the door the rest of the way open and darting his way inside before April could smack him, flitting over to his twin's side as if that might protect him. April growled softly, swinging the door shut behind her as she followed him in. They were so lucky that she was making an effort to be extra nice to them.

'Okay, then, get out of my room?' Donnie suggested dryly, turning back around, their hands returning to their keyboard as soon as they had finished signing, eyes immediately back to their computer screen. Or, computer screens, rather. They had at least five monitors pinned up, all of them doing different things as Donnie tapped away, staring at the glowing screens intensely. April didn't even wanna try to follow whatever the hell they were trying to do, nor think about how much sleep they had been getting recently. At least some. She knew from past experiences that he was not capable of pulling actual all-nighters without his brain turning to straight-up mush. He’d get all loopy and confused, and it was admittedly pretty hilarious, but not very effective. He could, however, get away with two-to-three hours a night and come out the other side functioning, but cranky. She suspected this was the current situation.

"Well," Leo began, leaning over the desk slightly. April watched Donnie's eyes twitch with annoyance. "We were just wondering, uh, if you had made any progress with your... whatever it is you're doing?"

'No,' Donnie responded coldly, bristling as he glared at their screen. 'If I made any progress, Nardo, I would have told you by now. I haven't found any leads online, I haven't been able to track Dad's smartwatch, I haven't found him on any security footage,' Where was he getting security footage feeds? Actually, nevermind, 'or anything else that's helpful, okay? I'm doing my best! If you have a problem with it, why don't you--'

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, easy! I'm not trying to critique or whatever!" Leo defended, putting up his hands. "I was just thinking, uh... what if… we went through some of Dad's stuff?"

Donnie all but growled, like actually for-real growled, giving Leo a look. Every time they had to stop typing to respond to their twin, they looked just a little bit closer to a crime of passion. 'I just told you, I'm going through Dad's stuff.' They pressed, their ASL sharp and choppy with frustration. 'I've already gone through his social media, through all his files, his emails, I've been through his phone--'

"No, no, I mean, like..." Leo hesitated a second. "Like, his physical stuff. Like... go through his room."

Donnie paused. He frowned a bit, looking Leo up and down suspiciously.

'Why?'

"I don't know. I just. I think maybe we might find something," Leo pressed. "I mean, we've tried everything else, right? Maybe there's something useful in there."

'Dad wouldn't want us looking through his stuff. The police already looked anyway.'

"Oh, like he'd be tickled about any of the rest of this situation? I think Dad would want to come home!" Leo said, raising a brow. "Maybe the police looked, but those guys are idiots, and we haven't. What if we find something, Donnie? Something actually helpful?”

Okay, that was a pretty good argument, April had to admit. Dee could be pretty hard to reason with once he had made up his mind about something and emotional appeals very rarely worked. But... April glanced over at Donnie out of the corners of her eyes, biting the insides of their cheek. She knew Donnie missed their dad. All of them did. Of course they all did, and it wasn't like Donnie missed Yoshi any more than their brothers did, that's not what she meant, but...

Donnie hadn't spoken since he had gone missing. They barely left their room, barely ate, barely slept... All of them were having a hard time. Donnie just... didn't always deal with change and stress that well. This was the longest Donnie had been non-verbal in years, and just...

All she meant was that having some sort of a lead instead of repeatedly banging their head against the wall up here by themselves might be good. And she was sure Donnie knew that, too.

'Fine,' Donnie relented, pushing their chair away from their desk so they could get to their feet, visibly wincing as their joints no doubt protested after being in one position for so long. 'But if I end up mentally scarred, I'm gonna be annoyed.'

---

Donnie was tired.

They were no stranger to exhaustion, either. They found that it was a common companion. Sure, they were an athlete just like their brothers, and capable of plenty. They rarely found themselves winded or out of breath. The amount of activities and commitments that filled their calendar had always felt reasonable and manageable to them, though they recognized that it would be enough to overwhelm many. Coding marathons and long study sessions didn't bother them.

But sometimes they were just... fucking tired. They hated how quickly they tired as compared to their brothers, but it had been this way their entire life. They'd go to a sci-fi convention, and Donnie would enjoy himself, they'd be happy to be there, but they would just... get so fatigued so quickly. Even with their headphones on and their brothers nearby, even with a carefully planned itinerary of their day, they would still always find themselves exhausted halfway through their trip and lagging behind. Mikey, Leo, and Raph were always raring to go, thrilled at the chance to take on the next thing, and he'd be trudging behind them wishing he could lay down and just take a nap. God forbid they have any change of schedule or inadvertent last-minute plans; then he'd be worn down even quicker.

The world was a lot to take in. Emotions were a lot. And processing it all took so much out of him. It was frustrating. Especially when they knew they weren't the only one wearing thin right now. They knew full well that everyone was having a hard time. They knew that Leo wasn't sleeping, that Raph was running himself ragged worrying about everything... which was exactly why they had to keep going.

There had to be an answer somewhere. Some way to fix this. Everything had an answer. People didn't just disappear.

Their dad had to be somewhere. This was just a fact. All he had to do was figure out where.

... Which was proving much more difficult than he had anticipated.

Usually, he was not one to be dragged into Leo's stupid schemes or plots, but at this point, they were running out of other options. Nothing else they had tried was working, so... desperate times, desperate measures?

And going through their dad's room was certainly a desperate measure.

It wasn't terrible, but it... definitely wasn't clean either. Donnie made a face as the three picked their way in, closing the door behind them and flicking the light on. God, why was there so much dirty laundry all over the place?! Note to self, figure out some kind of solution to avoid this in the future. A modified Roomba, perhaps? Ugh, whatever. Focus.

"Where do we start?" April said, wrinkling her nose and looking around the room.

"I dunno. Just... start going through stuff, I guess. Look for anything weird. There's gotta be something useful," Leo mumbled, stepping forward, beginning to thumb his way through old magazines stacked up on the dresser.

"Are you sure about this, Leo? This feels sort of... wrong," April said, kind of wrapping her arms around herself, clearly having second thoughts. Donnie couldn't say they blamed her. There was a sort of 'ickiness' to this whole thing. They felt a bit like a child going through their mother's purse.

"Look, if either of you has a better idea..." Leo huffed. As Donnie, unfortunately, did not, they got to work, quietly wishing they had brought their gloves with them as they began sifting through their dad's stuff.

For the most part, they were quiet, only occasionally speaking up (or signing, as the case may be,) to ask a question or grab the others' attention. It wasn't as if there wasn't anything interesting to be found in here, either. There was. There was plenty of interesting stuff. Thus far, the group had uncovered at least one Lou Jitsu body pillow (ew,) a bunch of paperwork that their father had seemingly neglected to actually fill out and submit yet, ("Are these tax forms?") the evidence of at least three crimes that they had thought they had properly disposed of, ("Why is he hiding this from us!? What does he have planned?!") and about a gazillion snacks that he had squirreled away in various hiding places in his room. But, so far... nothing useful.

"Hey... what about this?" Leo asked after a long period of silence, no sound in the dimly lit room aside from shuffling.

Donnie, who had just been preparing to break into their father’s nightstand, glanced over and gawked for a moment.

'His altar? Seriously, Leo? It's not bad enough that we're rifling through the rest of his stuff, you want to tear apart that, too?'

"I'm not gonna hurt it! But we might as well explore every option!" Leo insisted, shrugging, trying to look casual. Donnie didn't buy it for a moment. "Plus, like... look at this stuff. Some of it is kinda weird, right...?" He mumbled, beginning to grab a few trinkets off the shelf. "Here. Look at this."

Donnie frowned, but he made his way over anyway, accepting the item Leo pressed into his palm. It was some weird necklace he had never seen before, carved out of porcelain or something, with these symbols painted along the front and sides. It was very pretty, and Donnie was certain if he did his research he could find a fascinating cultural history behind it, but...

None of that was gonna help find their Dad.

Donnie was going to protest, but Leo was already passing a new item into their hand, waving April down with a, "come here, come look at this," and Donatello sighed, resigning themselves to their current position. None of the things Leo had handed them, however, meant anything to them. They were just... things. Things that Donnie could research, sure, but what use could that possibly be here? These were just knick-knacks! They grit their teeth as they sorted through them, growing more and more irate. They were just silly items that their dad collected for sentimental purposes, they had no meaning, there was no secret here for them to unveil, and no way that it was any help in--

Their fingers brushed against a folded scrap of fabric, and their eyes locked on the pattern of red thread sewn along the inside.

Donnie froze.

They recognized that pattern. Setting the other objects aside, he carefully unfolded the fabric, (What was this? An obi?) running his fingers along the seams of it. It was a fairly simple emblem, a circle with stripes running through it like the spokes of a wheel, smaller circles inside of each part. He swallowed hard, leaning in a bit closer. He... recognized this. He had seen it before. Where had he seen it before...?

"... Donnie?" April said, sounding kind of far away. Donnie ignored her. They were busy.

They absolutely racked their memories, pulling desperately at every neuron in their head, reaching into every fold of their mind, trying to figure out where he had seen this, because he knew he had, he was certain of it. This meant something, but he had no idea what. He just... felt like it had to be important. So why couldn't he remember?

Come on. Come on. This is important. I can feel it, they hissed internally, gritting their teeth.

"Dee? Did you find something?" Decline call. Busy right now. Stop talking. I'm trying to focus.

We need to know this. I need to be able to understand this. Come on, stupid brain, work! Dad needs us. I have to know this. So tell me what this is! I swear I know--

All at once, the room lit up with a violet glow, this dazzling gleam flooding the room for an instant. They could hear something rattling in their father's closet. For just a moment, some sort of shape, made out of light itself, began to stitch itself into his hands, around his fingers, around the obi he was holding.

Donatello gasped loudly, dropping the fabric like it had burned him and leaping back. The light disappeared all at once, fading away like it had never been there in the first place. All three of them gaped in silence for a moment. The air crackled with leftover energy, lingering like smoke after a fire.

Eventually, however, Leo found his tongue again, whipping around to face April.

"I told you!!!"

---

The restrictions of his new working conditions were... challenging. Not insurmountable by any means, but they did, admittedly, make progress much slower than he would like.

Much slower.

After a period of 'laying low,' he had of course made another visit to the Hamato household, intending to repossess his experiments, Lou Jitsu or not, but was frustrated to find a powerful mystical barrier had been placed over the apartment. At his full power, Draxum was certain he'd be able to break through, but in his current state, it was... an obstacle. He had been forced to retreat and reevaluate.

He should have known that Lou Jitsu would seek reinforcements to keep him out. He curled his lips a bit at the other's cowardice, hiding away rather than facing him, but it didn't matter. They couldn't stay inside their little palace forever. Sooner or later, he knew he would be able to catch them outside of the protection of their home and reclaim what was his. They would join his side willingly once he spoke with them, he was sure.

In the meantime, he prepared.

He had already drafted about three dozen different tests he would want to run to measure how well his initial experiment had fared over the past fourteen years or so. It was obviously less than ideal that they had spent so much time in uncontrolled conditions, and that they had been under the influence of Lou Jitsu rather than himself, but… still. They existed. That was enough. The data he could gather alone would be invaluable. He had spent a great deal of time collecting all the various materials he would need to examine things like cell growth, mutation capacity, and any number of other biological factors. Humans hardly had the quality of components available to them as compared to what he could find in the Hidden City, but... it would have to do. He couldn’t risk showing his face in the Hidden City right now.

The torturous part was the absolute breadth of resources that the humans lacked.

Hunched over a make-shift desk he had fashioned, deep in his likewise make-shift sewer laboratory, he snarled in frustration, balling up his fists around stacks of papers and uncompleted checklists. Every lab and pharmacy he broke into, he never found everything he needed. Human technology was so primitive… Not to mention their dismal grasp of alchemy. And every item he was unable to procure he would be forced to fabricate, which would use up precious mystic energy, which would only lead to him falling farther and farther behind in his timeline--

How long could he afford to wait!? Every day, the prophecy loomed further over his head. He could feel the breath of danger hot on the back of his neck. He had already wasted so much time, and here he was, his goal literally within his sight, and yet…!

He swept the papers from his desk with a violent thrash of his arm. It was childish, he knew, and he would only regret it later when he had to clean it all up again, but it made him feel better in the moment. He sighed deeply through his nose as he watched the lists slowly flutter back down to the ground, his shoulders slumping slightly…

Only to pinch his brows together and frown when the papers… instead began to flutter behind him, all whisking away in unison, darting unnaturally past him.

“What the--?”

Draxum had just barely turned, glancing behind him, when the cool violet light behind him blossomed into a full-blown sigil, pulsing firmly to his back and promptly beginning to swallow him whole. Draxum gave a surprised shout as he was sucked inside the magickal door, writhing as he did so, clawing desperately at the air. But he had nothing to hang onto, and in mere moments, the doorway he had been forced through blinked shut behind him-- leaving only the doorway up ahead.

He only had seconds to prepare himself. But he already had his feet beneath him as the portal spit him out somewhere new, his head whipping up immediately to face whoever dared summon him here.

“What’s going on? Who brought me here?” He spat, every muscle in his body tensed and angry, ready to fight. He had no idea where he was. Some human alleyway, it seemed, sad and dark and wet as they typically were. He was almost convinced he was alone before he heard a gravelly cackle bounce off the walls, the echo sounding like pebbles scraping across sand. Two bouncing red flames emerged from the darkness, and he tensed, baring his teeth in a silent warning.

“Is this the sheep guy?”

“Be cool. He’s a warring warrior scientist.”

“Sweet! Triple threat.”

Were they talking about him? As if he wasn’t even there-- who did these fools think they were? Underestimating Baron Draxum would be the last thing they ever did.

Draxum rose up to his full height, clenching his hands into fists and glowering at the strangers. “I will end both of you,” he snarled. His power may be weakened, but it was still plenty enough to destroy these two interlopers. If they thought summoning him with this silly party trick was all they would need to apprehend him and collect a reward from the Hidden City Police, then they were sorely mistaken.

“Easy, easy,” the smaller of the pair bade, extending a hand outward. Draxum narrowed his eyes. “I think we just might share some of the same goals… Like taking care of that pesky Lou Jitsu. And those odd children of his,” he hissed, tightening his hand into a fist.

Children?

Right. Of course.

His turtles. Beneath his skin, his temper flared, sharp and spined, scratching against his muscles angrily. He wasn’t inclined to trust any strangers, especially given his current circumstances, but…

He supposed it was possible he might be able to find a use for these two. They were competent enough, at least, to summon him here, and he was hardly in an advantageous position at the moment… he stood to gain ground.

Draxum frowned deeply, narrowing his eyes. Perhaps he would hear them out.

“I’m listening…”

---

"Oh, HANG ON NOW--"

"Mikey--"

"No no no! So, let's get this straight. When I tell you guys that my notebook caught on fire--"

"Mikeeyyyy."

"Then I'm crazy, and also lying and covering up a cigarette addiction, apparently--"

"Michael. Come on."

"But when YOU guys tell ME that Donnie has glow-stick bones--"

"That's not what I said."

"That's reasonable?!"

"Okay, fine!" Leo sighed loudly, holding his hands up in defeat. "I will concede that, maybe, possibly, there is a slight chance that actually I was wrong about the fire thing, and also you were totally telling the truth. We are oh so very sorry, Miguel. I mean. Even though you really can't blame us…"

"BOY, I swear to GOD--"

"But this is serious! Donnie really did glow! And so did you last night! I saw you. Stop trying to deny it."

Mikey sighed loudly, crossing his arms over his chest. "Okay, magic fire is one thing, but I’m pretty sure I would have noticed if I could float! And glow!”

"Okay, look. Regardless, something weird is obviously going on! I could believe one of us just totally going crazy and starting to have weird hallucinations or something, but all of us!? We're not all just imagining things! There's something going on, and there's an answer in this chest! There has to be!"

Raph frowned a bit, not looking entirely convinced. "Are you sure, Leo? I don't think Dad would want us going through his stuff."

"Dad isn't here!" Leo cried, throwing his arms in the air. "What about that don't you guys get?! Do you guys wanna figure out what's going on and how we're gonna get him home, or don't you!? There's no way this magic stuff isn't involved somehow!"

As his brothers continued to argue, Donatello ran his hands over the length of the dusty wooden chest they had dragged out of the very back of Dad's closet. It had been all tucked away inside of a box, underneath a bunch of old clothes, mostly theirs from when they were kids. Hidden-- like Dad wanted to make sure no one found it. The same symbol that was on the obi was on the front of this chest. It looked absolutely ancient and was clearly handcrafted, locked shut with a golden padlock, and absolutely tempting the shit out of Donnie.

"What do you think, Dee?" April nudged gently, leaning over next to him. "Think we can get it open?"

For the past four days, Donatello had been all systems go, full steam ahead. He had barely slept, didn't want to eat, didn't want to do anything except claw at the wall in front of them, trying to find a way to save their dad. And so far, nothing worked.

But now here they were. With this chest in front of them. A lead, finally. Even more than that. Something... interesting.

For days now, Donnie hadn't felt much beyond numb, anxious, helpless.

Right now? He was curious.

"Yeah," Donnie said after a second. His throat felt a bit rough, a bit sore from being unused, but that was okay. "Shouldn't be too hard."

This alone was enough to stop Raph in his tracks, and Leo absolutely beamed, immediately moving to join Donnie's side. "All right! Dee's got this. If anyone can pick the lock, they can!"

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Donatello responded smoothly, pulling his bag off of his back, unzipping it and beginning to shuffle through its contents. "I've never picked a lock in my life," they added in, pulling out a small toolkit and cracking it open, immediately getting to work on the golden lock in front of them. "And anyone who indicates otherwise is clearly confused and does not have any evidence to back them up, meaning their testimony will not hold up in court. Especially considering I have four counter-witnesses right here who can attest that I would never engage in any such behavior, and in fact, we were elsewhere at the time of the crime..."

The padlock was open within forty-five seconds. Nice, new record.

Donnie could feel all four of their siblings leaning over their back, all wide-eyed as they pulled the chest open. Usually, they would get annoyed, but this was too big of a moment to fuss over. And inside, they found...

Paper.

Raph frowned a bit. "Is that it?" He questioned. "It's just... paper."

"Just paper?" Leo scoffed. "I'm sorry, what did you say? Did you say it’s just paper? Obviously, this is important paper! What's it say, Dee?"

"Wow, read the paper we found? What an innovative idea. Great plan. What an impressive pair of strategic minds you two have. Truly leaders of our generation..." Donnie muttered dryly, rolling his eyes as he moved to grab the long scrolls of paper folded up inside the chest.

And the moment he touched it-- "Whoa."

Before another question, comment, or sassy remark could be made by anyone in the group, a bright blue light burst from the scroll in Donnie's hand, overtaking them all in a shimmering, mystic glow. Mikey yelped in surprise, jumping behind Raph, who, at the same time, leaned closer to Leo, Donnie, and April, his hands moving over their shoulders, as if ready to yank them back. Donnie just barely resisted the urge to drop the paper altogether.

Mikey was, admittedly, not the only one to shriek when about a dozen ghostly blue figures burst into the room around them, encircling the group, manifesting in a cloud of gentle mist.

"Greetings, young Hamatos," one of the figures spoke, their voice soft and echoing, yet seeming to transmit straight into Donnie's mind. He swore he wasn't hearing it with his ears at all-- this was a direct transfer. "It is an honor to be in your presence. What wisdom do you seek?"

The entire group stared for a minute.

"Oh. My god," April finally bit out.

"Dad had people in his closet!? This whole time!?" Mikey yelped, his eyes wide, having half climbed on top of Raph at this point.

"Fascinating," Donnie whispered, leaning forward to swipe his hands through the man a few times, amazed to see that it passed straight through. "They appear to be holograms? Or perhaps projections...? The polygons--"

"Dee, I know that science and logic is, like, your whole thing, but I think we're kind of past that," Leo scoffed. "It's obviously not holograms."

"Please stop doing that," the figure in front of them said, and Donatello scowled, reluctantly pulling his hand away from where it was doing passes back and forth through the hem of their robe. No one let him have any fun.

"Okay, so... these guys know us," Raph ventured, narrowing his eyes almost suspiciously. "Then... who are you?"

"We are the ancestors of the Hamato Clan," the figure spoke, pride filling his voice as he gestured to the many people filling the space, all draped in identical robes-- all sporting the same circular symbol. "Our spirits inhabit the sacred scrolls of our bloodline in order to offer guidance to those who remain on earth and bear our great destiny."

"Destiny?" Leo echoed, raising a brow. "Wait wait wait... So, you're, like... our grandparents."

"... No," the spirit said after a moment. "We're a little bit older than that."

"Okay, so, like, great-grandparents?"

"Hang on, what about this destiny stuff? What destiny?" Raph barked. "Look, this is all goin' a little fast! First, we find out that magic is, like, a thing, which I'm still sorta hung up on, and there's ghosts in Dad's closet, and now you're sayin' there's a Hamato destiny? 'Cause, uh, we're Hamatos, and no one ever filled us in on that!"

"Yes!" The spirit exclaimed, and the fog still filling the room seemed to lift with his voice, rising up to match his excitement as he swept his arms up. "The Hamatos are the bearers of a great duty to all of humanity-- it is the Hamatos alone that guard the safety of the earth against a great, ancient evil, and ensure it never rises to power again. As direct descendants of the bloodline, it is your divine purpose to--"

"Are we sure this isn't a movie prop?" Donnie stage-whispered to his siblings. "'Cause, like, this kind of sounds like the plot of a movie, right?"

"I mean, he's kinda got a point..."

"We are not movie props!!! This is an ancient tradition--"

"Okay, well, that's all well-and-good, very cool, uhm, love the special effects," Leo cut in. "And I'd love to discuss this great evil thing some more later, but can we maybe take a rain-check on that one? 'Cause we've kind of got a situation right now. Any chance you guys know where our dad is?"

The movie prop blinked slowly at them, keeping quiet for a moment. "... You want to rain-check your divine purpose?"

"Yeah. Can you maybe help us out in finding our dad first, and then we'll do all the rest of it? 'Cause it seems like humanity is doing, like, mostly fine? Except for maybe the part that posts on internet forums about reality TV. And, like, Republicans. But that's all obviously gonna be a huge undertaking to correct, and priority numero uno is our Daddy, please, so do you think you can, y'know... help us out?"

Mikey, Raph, Donnie, and April all nodded fervently.

"Your father has already fulfilled his purpose in producing heirs," the movie prop responded, their voice suddenly cold. "Though he may have rejected his duty, in continuing the bloodline, he has allowed the hope that the Hamato Clan brings to live on. It is now your great honor to take up the mantle and--"

"But where is he?" Mikey chirped. "He's missing."

"Okay, look, we are not exactly omniscient, we don't just know that kind of--"

"Then can you help us find him?" Raph pressed.

"You are already years behind on training, your ninpo--"

“Our what-po?”

"We can talk about that after we find our Dad," Leo scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest. "We're not just gonna forget about him!"

"Traditionally, Hamatos are not raised by their parents, so it is not really--"

"What?!" Mikey wailed. "What kind of tradition is that? That's so sad!"

"It is a great sacrifice--"

“Sacrifice?” Mikey echoed shortly, his eyes widening.

"What do you mean sacrifice?" Raph demanded, moving closer to their youngest brother. “Sacrifice what!?”

"This is all starting to sound kind of fishy," April accused.

“How do we even know we can trust these guys?” Raph added in.

"Are you going to help us or not?" Leo cried.

"Is that why we don't have grandparents?!" Mikey whimpered.

"Hamato Yoshi can no longer be considered a priority for--"

Donnie dropped the scroll back into the chest and slapped the lid shut.

"Dad?"

"Yes, my son?" His father hummed, glancing down at his child, picking at stones on the ground at the bus stop. He had long given up trying to get his kids not to pick stuff up from off the street; so long as they didn't put anything in their mouths, he was content.

"Are we challenging kids?" Leo questioned, glancing up at his dad with side eyes.

Their dad frowned a bit, pausing whatever show he was watching on his phone and pocketing it, leaning forward to rest on his knees and look at Leonardo properly. "What makes you ask something like that, Blue?"

"Uhm," Leo paused, frowning a bit and looking to the side. "Samantha's mom, uhm, she was saying to the other moms the other day, after swim practice, that we were, uh... That we were ‘challenging kids…’ And that 'you couldn't pay her to deal with what he does,' and also she said she would tear all her hair out."

His dad hummed thoughtfully, nodding as he listened to his son speak.

"First of all," he said. "Of course you are challenging! There is no such thing as a child who is not challenging. I promise you that Samantha will have all sorts of challenges in her lifetime! Children are not meant to be easy. Children are meant to be children. And there is nothing wrong with being challenged. It makes life exciting."

Leo wrinkled his nose. "Okay," he said. "... Do we have more challenges than other kids?"

His dad laughed aloud. "I do not know!" He said. "I have never tried to raise any other children but you four. Thank god. But I can tell you that you are no more challenging than I was as a child! That is for certain."

Okay, that made Leo smile a tiny bit.

"Second of all," his father continued. "Even if you were the most challenging children in all the world, I would still never trade being your father for anything. I did not become a parent and expect it to be easy! And there is not a single thing in all the universe that could convince me to give up even one of you."

"Not even the new plasma-screen TV that they have at Target? With the super super big screen? The one so big it curves?"

"No, not even the super big TV they have at Target," his dad laughed, ruffling Leo's hair. "And if raising you boys is challenging, it is the best challenge I could have ever asked for. I must be a very lucky man indeed."

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, quite sure.”

“Even when Donnie takes apart the remote controls?”

“Yes, even then.”

“And when Mikey puts paint in his pockets?”

“Yes, even when Mikey puts paint in his pockets.”

“And even when Raph and I fight over who gets to get on the subway first?”

“Yes, Blue.”

“And even when we tear the gutter off the roof ‘cause we were trying to climb up to the balcony?”

“Yes, even when-- wait, what!? When did you do that?!”

“Nothing. Nevermind. I love you too, Daddy!!!”

---

All five of them had been lying in various states of unrest or depression about their father's room for about ten minutes now.

"I can't believe there are magic spirits in your house, and they're all completely useless dickheads." April was the first to break the silence.

"I concur," Donnie muttered sourly, wrapping his arms around himself. "I'm going back to not believing in magic."

"How can they just write off Dad like that?" Mikey sighed deeply. "Because he has kids to carry on the ‘Hamato Destiny,’ he doesn't matter anymore!? What kind of a deal is that? And what even is the Hamato Destiny? They never said!"

"I dunno," Raph said, hunching his shoulders, staring up at the ceiling with a scowl. "But whatever it was, Raph didn't like the sound of it..."

He couldn't help but wish they hadn't opened that dumb box in the first place.

All his life, he had been the biggest brother-- the brother who was the biggest. It was his job, obviously, to look after his little siblings and make sure everyone was safe. Sure, there was some leeway there, obviously. Letting Mikey dart out into traffic because he saw a dog on the other side of the street? Bad idea. Grab him. Letting Leo attempt to grind his skateboard down five flights of stairs with railings that weren't even connected? Also a bad idea, but would be really funny to watch, so we’ll let that one slide. He had been the biggest brother long enough to know this stuff! He knew what kind of stuff was actually dangerous and what wasn't, and what the best way to keep everyone safe was.

How was he supposed to protect them from this "Hamato Destiny" stuff when he had no idea what it was? And hadn't even thought that magic stuff was a thing until about twenty minutes ago? He had been pretty much sure, like most reasonable people above the age of nine, that magic was like, definitely not real. Now he was kind of feeling differently.

He wasn't sure if he liked it.

Every time he thought about it, it made his skin crawl. What the hell was it that was creeping around in their own damn shadows? And how long had it been there with them none the wiser?! Was there danger inside the strands of their very own DNA? And how the hell do you protect someone from that?

"Do you think it's bad?" Mikey ventured, glancing up at Raph from where he sat on the floor, propped up against the side of the bed.

"Well it definitely didn't seem good," Raph huffed, tilting his head a bit so he could glance over at his little brother. "Blah blah blah, bare a great destiny, blah blah blah, guard against evil-- that don't exactly sound like a picnic! And why else would Dad skip out on his ‘duty’ or whatever? I mean, there's gotta be a reason he never told us about any of this!"

"You think that's why he never wanted to talk about his family?" April said, frowning a little.

"Well, from what they said, I'm not even sure if he actually knew his family. Apparently, Hamatos don't raise their own children," Donnie scoffed, crossing their arms over their chest. "So clearly he's already broken from tradition there."

Silence fell over them once more. Raph fidgeted uncomfortably in place. His stomach hurt, he noted dully.

"Should we try talking to them again?" Mikey suggested after a bit. Leo scoffed loudly.

"They didn't exactly seem excited to help us out, 'Angelo."

"Yeah but, I mean, maybe we can convince them!" Mikey argued. "They’re our family! And it's sort of the only lead we've got. I mean. Okay, so, there's a Hamato Destiny, and also, magic exists, I guess, and, uh, maybe some of us have it...? Which is super cool and all! But... I'm not sure how it's gonna help us find Dad."

Dammit. He had a point.

"... Do you think that guy in the mask was just, like... actually a goat man?" Donnie said after a second, and Leo all but gasped, sitting up sharply.

"Holy SHIT. I didn't even think about that!" He cried, clutching his own head. "But he probably is, right!? Instead of being a stalker fan or whatever? And that's how they disappeared? He's... like... a magic thing!"

"So new theory is that a goatman kidnapped Dad?" Raph ventured.

"Well, if there's magic goatmen or whatever other kinda creatures are kind of on the table, right?" April reasoned. "I mean, there are ghosts, I guess. So it'd make sense if there's other stuff too."

"Do you think there's unicorns?"

"Mikey, so not the priority right now."

"Right. Sorry!"

"Alright. So. To summarize. Goatman kidnapped our papa for unknown reasons, magic exists, allegedly, which I'm still not entirely sold on for the record--"

"Dude, you literally started glowing purple--"

"And also the Hamatos have a very rich and magical history, a divine destiny, and fucked up childhoods," Donnie continued. "... How do we make any of that work for us?"

Everyone quieted for a moment. It was a great question.

"... Research?" Leo suggested weakly.

"You all are going to make me deep-dive satyrs, aren't you," Donnie sighed very deeply, letting their head fall back down to the floor with a dull thump. "Right. I'll start on that. Mikey, you make friends with the Hamato ghosts."

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#sorrywhatnowfic #sorrywhatnowau #tmnt #rottmnt #rottmnt fanfiction #tmnt human au #fidgetwing #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rise of the tmnt #fanfic #writing

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tangledinink · 1 year

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Chapter Six of I'm Sorry, Teenage Mutant What Now? is up! Read it on ao3 or below the cut!

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Donnie was getting a bit tired of hearing his baby brother scream bloody murder from up the stairs. And, dammit, you would think that they would be used to it by now, with just how vocal Mikey could be. But he was also pretty sure there would never come a day where he heard Mikey scream and didn't immediately start running in that direction.

The loud crashes that followed shortly after were fairly motivational as well.

Taking the steps two at a time, Donnie sprinted up the stairs from the Lair, skidding to a halt at the top. They had to cling to the railing to avoid completely falling over, their knees threatening to give out for just a moment as they gawked at the scene in front of them. As if echoing the very state of him, the entire house seemed to shake from the force with which his father was slammed against the drywall, the towering form of some alien stranger pinning him in place and snarling.

"You have them? They've been here the entire time?!" The intruder cried, the sound of family pictures falling from the walls and shattering against the hardwood harmonizing with his howls. Move. Move. Do something. Move your legs! Donnie's internal monologue hissed at them furiously. But their body wasn't responding.

Vaguely, he heard shouting and footsteps from upstairs. But he couldn't take his eyes off his father, whose back was pressed up against the wall, held forcefully in place, but with his feet finding footing against the drywall regardless, arms braced firmly out in front of him to hold his assailant at bay. For just one second, his eyes met Donnie's, and they could see his ferocity twist into panic for just that brief moment.

"Purple! Get your brother into the basement! Now!!!" He bellowed, twisting his body sharply to slam his leg into the side of this-- man? Creature? In front of him, the force of the blow sending him stumbling to the side, allowing Hamato Yoshi the space to wrench his way free and launch a strike of his own.

Donnie's eyes flashed over to his little brother, pressed up against the wall, and his terrified expression was enough to get their legs to begin working again, darting over and grabbing Mikey by the wrist.

"What the hell happened?! Who's this!?"

"I don't know! I don't know! He just-- They just started fighting! I don't know!" Mikey gasped out, not even looking at Donnie, their breath tumbling out of them in panicked cries. Donnie's eyes snapped around to follow the sound of a horrid crunch-- their dad's foot connecting with the side of the stranger's head-- before turning back to his brother.

"Come on!" He hissed, yanking at his brother's wrist, but Mikey yanked back.

"But-- but Dad!"

Oh God. Why was it him? Why wasn't it Leo or Raph? Why weren’t they here to handle this? He was way past overwhelmed, their heart hammering in their ears, their chest aching, their head buzzing. Jesus christ. Were they dying? They were pretty sure the world was ending. They couldn’t hear. They couldn’t breathe.

Their father wheezed loudly at a blow to his chest, staggering backward, but staying on his feet, immediately surging forward in a counterattack.

You know martial arts. You've been studying martial arts since you were five. Why aren't you moving?

Their dad's fist connected with the man's jaw, but the second blow was countered, his fist caught in the stranger's hand and used to toss him aside, narrowly missing the coffee table.

Dad said to get to the basement. He said to get Mikey to the basement. You have to protect Mikey.

He was still on the ground, but he lunged to sweep the intruder's legs out from under him when he approached, leaping back up to his feet.

You could help. He needs help. You could help him.

There was blood on his dad's face now.

You've never been in an actual fight before!

"Dad!" Leo yelled as he reached the bottom of the stairs, April and Raph following suit, all three bristling with horror. But Leo didn't hesitate the way Donnie did. Leo didn’t freeze up or second-guess. Leo didn't even think for a second-- he lunged.

"Blue!" Their father screamed.

Everything was happening too fast. Donnie could barely see anything. His eyes weren't working. His ears weren't working. His lungs weren't working.

They could still see, however, in slow motion, this strange man's body snapping around, away from their Dad, turning instead towards his brother, his twin, his arm lashing out to meet his assault. Calculations tumbled through Donnie's head. Leo's entry angle was wrong, he was moving too fast, his arm wasn't in the right position, he couldn't block, his head was open, his throat was open--

Out of the very corner of his eyes, Donnie saw a small streak of yellow dart inside through the still-open front door.

And then the stranger disappeared in a flash of blue light.

So did their dad.

---

Dully, Yoshi recognized that he was no longer in his own house. He recognized that his sons were not here any longer. He recognized that they had been moved, teleported away, and his entire body seemed to fizzle slightly with the leftover touch of mystic energy. But all of this was a gentle echo bouncing around in his skull, as inconsequential as a single raindrop.

Because the one thought that dominated his mind, the single, roaring thunderstorm pulsing through his body, sending him flashing forward at a speed that surprised even him, was all-encompassing.

"Stay away from my sons." He snarled, his own throat staggering painfully with the force with which he screamed out his warning, his hands flashing forward to grab Draxum by his throat, snatching fistfuls of his hair, and slamming him into the ground-- flinging him bodily away from the space Leonardo had once occupied.

His entire body ached, all his muscles lit on fire and his joints actively wailing in protest to each movement. His face was hot with blood, he recognized, but it didn't matter much to him right now. He would sooner die than allow Baron Draxum to lay a finger on any of his children.

He could hear Draxum hiss as he dragged himself back to his feet, quickly shifting back into a fighting stance that echoed his own. He barely allowed himself half a moment to glance around, taking note of the new terrain. Where were they...? Was this the Hidden City? He could recognize the skyline off in the distance. How did they get here?

A furry yellow creature snarled weakly at Draxum's feet, clearly injured but jerking forward to attempt to bite the alchemist anyway. Draxum dismissed it quickly with a swift kick, sending the small yokai tumbling to the side in a scuffed heap. Yoshi curled his lips with disgust, leaping forward once more. He hardly even had to command his body. He had trained to fight for nearly his entire life. It knew what to do even without him.

He could hear Draxum's harsh breath even over the sound of his own, even over the sound of each impact, repeatedly striking out only to be blocked by the other, and blocking his attacks in return. A bitter laugh worked its way from his throat even as another frontal assault was shut out, forcing him to dance backward, recalculating his entry point.

"Prison has treated you well, Draxum!" He cackled. "I see your mystic powers have faded."

"Still enough to best you," he growled in return, but Yoshi noted an absence of vines at his feet, foliage failing to furrow up to the surface and aid in the battle. Thank god.

"You have no business with me and my family!" He spat.

"Those turtles are mine." Draxum surged forward, and Yoshi just barely managed to dodge his well-timed kick, biting back a curse. He couldn't keep this up for much longer-- not at this pace. He suddenly regretted not keeping up with his fitness and training regimen once his acting career was no longer considered a priority.

"They are children," he snapped, his eyes darting around frantically as he dodged a series of wild blows, ducking out of the way as he took rapid inventory of their terrain.

There, over there. The dry patch. We have to get there.

"They're my life’s work!" Draxum hissed, and Yoshi grit his teeth, his mouth set in a scowl. Oh, this was going to be unpleasant.

The glass of his assailant’s mask was already cracked. He just had to finish the job. Yoshi shut his eyes tight as he pitched his entire body weight forward, the front of his skull smashing into the surface of the helmet with a horrid crunch. His entire body groaned in protest as stars danced in front of his eyes, whiplash turning his stomach while shattered glass fell to the ground around them. Almost immediately, the wind was knocked clean out of him when Draxum's fist swung into his gut-- an instant punishment for leaving himself open. The world seemed to slow for just a moment before he went flying backward with the force of the blow.

But the opening was intentional.

Though the world was reeling around him, he steeled himself, twisting his body in the air just enough so that he could find his feet again on impact. And the impact wasn't going to be fun. It would be happening any second now, he noted, and he wasn't planning on enjoying it. But he would land where he needed to be.

A choked cough wrenched its way from his body as he bounced across the hard ground, forcing his body to right itself before gravity dragged him back down again. It was not a good back feel. Or ankle feel. Or body feel, just, like, generally speaking, and he lurched once he was finally on his own two feet again, his vision spinning, briefly threatening to overtake him.

Adrenaline was a powerful drug, however, and he stood his ground. His teeth bared and his stance firm, even as Draxum approached, his fangs split in a smile and his gaze predatory. Yoshi shifted slightly, feeling the loose, sandy dirt beneath his feet shift.

That's right. Come closer.

"Ready to admit defeat, Lou Jitsu?" Draxum laughed, mockery dripping from each word, his stance rigid and smug, as though the fool thought he had already found his victory.

What an idiot.

"Not yet," Yoshi muttered, rolling his knees ever so slightly, the side of his foot digging into the dry earth. He twisted his entire body hard to one side, kicking his leg out in a wide arc, and all at once a rippling cloud of dust took to the air, blinding Draxum, forcing him to stagger backward as he choked.

By the time the dust cleared, Lou Jitsu would already be gone.

---

Leo had been expecting a collision.

He expected pain. He knew that his footing was off. He knew, even as he was doing it, that his attack was sloppy and reckless. He would never move that way in a tournament. So why was he now? What was wrong with him?

He had left himself wide open. And he was expecting to be punished for it.

But the impact never came.

He stumbled slightly, in the space where the stranger had once been, just barely managing to catch himself and avoid toppling over. He looked around, dazed, tilting his head from side to side and checking over his shoulder. There was this ringing in his ears that swallowed up everything.

"... Dad?"

Mikey screamed again, but this time it sounded less like fear and more like grief, which only made Leo's heart rate spike even higher.

"Dad?!" He repeated, a bit more frantic this time, spinning in a few circles. "I-- Dad?! What happened?! Where did Dad go?! Who-- who was that guy?"

"I don't know!" Mikey wailed. "He just-- He just came to the door! He knocked on the door, so, I, I answered, and-- I didn't know! I'm sorry, Dad came, and they just-- I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I didn’t know!"

Donnie's knuckles were pale from how hard he was hanging onto Mikey's arm, and he was staring intensely off into the middle distance.

"Where'd Dad go!?" Raph demanded, thundering the rest of the way down the stairs. April stayed frozen on the spot, fumbling with her pockets.

"I don't know-- I-- he was right here, I--"

"He just disappeared!" Mikey cried.

"He didn't disappear. People don't just disappear!" Leo protested, his voice strained. "He was here. He was right here, there-- there has to be a logical explanation, I--"

"Mom?" April's voice cracked as she held her cell phone up to her ear.

"Who the hell was that?! They-- they've gotta be nearby! They can't have gotten that far!" Raph insisted, his tone quickly growing panicked. "You check the house, I'm gonna check outside."

"What was that light?! Why was there a light? It was-- it looked like electricity or something!" Mikey whimpered.

"Mom, are you home? S-someone just, just broke into The Hamato’s apartment. I don't know! No, I'm fine, they're gone. But I-- I don't know what to do--"

Donnie still wasn't moving. Leo basically ran through the apartment, throwing open every door that he could find, resisting the urge to fucking open cupboard drawers. He had to be here. They had to be somewhere, they couldn't just be gone. Their dad couldn't just be gone. He had just been looking at him two seconds ago! He just heard his voice!

He had just heard his voice screaming his name. It was still on loop in his brain. His blood was still on the floor, for fuck's sake. He couldn't just be gone.

"They're-- they're not outside," Raph called, his voice cracking, jogging back through the front door.

"Who the hell was that guy?! What was he-- was he wearing a costume or something? Did any of you recognize him? He had-- he had, like, armor on, and, and facepaint, I think? Or. Or a mask--" Leo stammered, stumbling his way back into the living room, clinging to the door frame like it would hold him up, like it would make the world stop tilting around him.

"He had fangs. Like-- like sharp teeth." Mikey whispered.

"Why is there a guy in movie make-up showin' up to fight Dad? Is he-- did they know each other? Like, from acting, or something? I don't-- why else would he be here!?"

There had to be an explanation. A reason. Something that he was missing that would explain everything and show him how to fix it, like, right now. Leo wracked his brain, running blindly through every possible scenario he could conjure and praying that he would trip over an answer as he did so.

"He just. He just showed up, and, and he started screaming for Lou Jitsu." Mikey said, holding out a hand helplessly, as if trying to reach for something, grab for something, and then burying his fingers in his hair instead, yanking at his locs. "He was-- he was asking for... for something. He said Dad had it-- I think? Looking for... for 'them.' For someone?"

April hung up the call with her mother, punching three digits into the keypad and holding the phone back up to her mouth. "Hello--?"

Raph stiffened, his mouth halfway open as he stuttered for a second. A look of dawning horror slowly spread across his face as he paled.

"... Was he looking for us?"

---

"I am telling you, he is out there right now!" Yoshi insisted, just barely resisting the urge to slam his hands down on the police desk in front of him. It was more out of concern for his bruised and battered body than it was out of respect if he was being honest.

"Look, sir, I understand, but what do you want me to do? Go running out there myself and comb the old train yards for him?" The purple Yokai in front of him scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back in his chair slightly, looking way more irritated than he had any right to be. Yoshi grit his teeth.

"YES!" He hissed. "Yes! You! Your coworkers! Every officer you have-- go look for him! He cannot have gotten far, and this is an incredibly dangerous criminal--!"

"Okay, okay. Look. We will do everything we can." The policeman insisted, holding out a hand as if to dismiss or quiet the other. "I just need you to fill out this report for me, and everyone in the Hidden City is gonna get the BOLO, okay? We'll look for him. We're looking for him. He's Hidden City's Most Wanted right now! Just... I need the paperwork. Alright?"

Yoshi sighed deeply, his shoulders slumping. He had never in his life felt so old.

"Fine." He muttered, reluctantly taking up the offered pen and beginning to fill out the required forms. Ridiculous, long, difficult-to-read forms... He walked into it feeling defeated, resigned to his fate, but the longer he slogged for it the angrier he became, his frustration building up over and over again.

Baron Draxum was out there right now. For all he knew, this very second he was putting into motion some plot to go after his sons again. His sons-- who were no doubt terrified at home, with no idea where he had gone. His sons who were sitting ducks should Draxum turn right around and return back to their apartment, who had no way of defending themselves properly against him...

And he was filling out a glorified questionnaire!?

He completed the form. He gave it to the officer and thanked him for his time. He politely declined the suggestion that he seek medical treatment, and he walked out the door, the way he had come in some twenty minutes ago.

His bones themselves ached, as did every bit of him layered atop. He had run all the way here. He wasn't sure how far it was, or how long it had taken, but it had felt very, very long. It was the most cardio he had done since his body pillow brand was still in production. At least the bleeding had stopped, and, miraculously, nothing was broken.

It had been a long time, but he knew what a broken bone felt like.

He walked about a block away from the police station before he sat down wearily on the curb, burying his face in his hands and sighing deeply. What now?

What could he do? What options even were there? He couldn't very well just return home and pretend like this had never happened. He knew Baron Draxum would come back. He could hope, of course, that the Hidden City police would apprehend him soon, but... What if they did not? Could he really afford that kind of a chance?

He couldn't just allow his children to sit in oblivious danger like that.

But then what was the alternative? Go into hiding? Return to a life hunkered down in the sewers? Tear his family out of society and bring them back to isolation, living alone underground? How could he possibly do that to his family? Every single day he watched the joy that they found in simply living, and saw the potential that they had to do whatever they wanted with their lives-- potential so bright and potent that near everyone he met felt compelled to comment on it. Mikey has a dance recital next week, he thought to himself. And Donatello had not stopped excitedly talking about their upcoming robotics competition for months now. They hardly went even a day without seeing April or another one of their friends.

He and Raphael had begun discussing college.

Even just thinking of his children losing the life they had made him want to weep. Truly, the only thing stopping him from curling up on the asphalt and crying was his need to focus on the problem in front of him, his brain moving too fast to allow for tears.

If he started crying, he knew he would not stop. It was not the time for that. His family needed him.

He could not ignore this threat... But he could not throw away his sons' lives, either. They had something good. His sons had something good. He had to protect it.

Yoshi inhaled deeply, picking his head up and resting his elbows on his knees. His jaw set in a deep frown, he scanned the streets, before finally he settled on a bustling tent just down the block, tucked in with the many other stalls, shops, and stone statues that made up the hidden city, all dramatically lit by a combination of flashing neons and massive bioluminescent mushrooms. “Luxury Simurghs,” the sign advertised proudly, and true to its word, several massive feathered creatures lazed idly outside the business, their bridles tied to nearby posts, a driver milling about nearby.

“Excuse me,” Yoshi called as he approached, holding out a hand to hail them down. “I need to get to the Battle Nexus. How much is the fare?”

---

"Look, I’m telling you, they’re out there right now! They couldn’t have gotten far!" Leo insisted, just barely resisting the urge to throw his hands up at the police officer in front of him. It was more out of concern for his shaking knees and unsteady footing than it was out of respect if he was being honest.

"Look, I understand. I know this is difficult, kid, but what do you want me to do? Drop everything and go running out through the city myself looking for them?” The policeman responded, looking way more irritated than he had any right to be. Leo grit his teeth.

"YES!" He cried. "Yes! You! Your coworkers! Your coworker’s coworkers! Your friends and family, your dog, your LinkedIn connections, I don’t care-- just go look for them! Please, they’ve gotta be close by, and our Dad is hurt, there’s no way he wouldn’t be home by now if he wasn’t--!"

"Okay, okay. Look. We’re doing everything we can." The policeman insisted, holding out a hand as if here were calming a spooked horse. "I just need you to answer a few questions for me, OK? And everyone in New York is gonna get the BOLO. We're looking for them. We’ll find your dad. I just need some more information to help us.”

Leo sighed deeply, his shoulders slumping. He drew his arms in around himself, hugging himself tight and suddenly feeling very small, like a child who had been scolded by their teacher.

"Fine," he mumbled. “Just-- tell me what you wanna know.”

“Okay. So, the intruder came in the front door, at about eight-forty-five. You said he had a mask?”

“Yeah,” he bit out, swallowing hard. “He had, like, uh… It had glass on it, like, on the front, so you could see his face? But I think it was tinted. And there, was like… gold or bronze around the edges, I guess, and there were these big horn things coming out the side.”

The officer nodded along, taking a few notes down as they spoke. “And did you get a good look at his face? Any discernible features?”

Leo hesitated. “He had… uh. Kind of a long face, I guess? Like… angular. I don’t know. I didn’t get a super good look at him.”

“Mmm-hm,” the officer frowned a bit. “Maybe your brother…?”

“Mikey already talked to you.” Leonardo snapped, immediately bristling, a flash of protectiveness lighting through his chest again. Mikey had hardly been able to get through his own interview for how much he was weeping the entire time, barely able to get the breath to stutter out words.

“Right,” the officer said, and Leo could see how the corners of his lips twitched a bit. “Well, we’ll just wrap up a few questions and paperwork, okay? Do you know where your neighbor went?”

“She’s in the kitchen,” Leo muttered, his brows furrowed. April’s mom, (Carol, some far-off voice in his brain provided, her name was Carol,) had gotten here about thirty seconds after April called her, and had quickly taken control of the situation, much to Leo’s relief. He was pretty sure she was still answering questions and filling out police forms and emergency custody papers. Leo didn’t think he had ever seen so many people in his house in his entire life, what with all the cops, the social workers, the detectives… There hadn’t even been this many guests at his ‘I Was An Extra In An Episode of Gossip Girl Premiere Party.’ And he had invited a lot of people.

Swallowing dryly, he watched as people hustled and bustled through the room, pulling anxiously at his sleeves. Mikey (still in tears,) and Donnie, (non-verbal,) had long since retreated back down to the Lair with April after they were permitted to leave the scene, but Raph still lingered, talking to a different officer across the room. Frowning, Leo waited until he was alone before wandering over in his direction. He swore his feet were moving on their own.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hey,” Raph echoed, and his voice sounded sore and wrung out, all the moisture squeezed from it. “You holdin’ up okay?”

“Oh, yeah. Totally.” Leo muttered, frowning a little, and then frowning further when Raph’s eyes darted away. He didn’t mean to be a sarcastic shithead, this just… sucked. “What about you?”

“I’m fine,” Raph said. Uh-huh. Liar.

“Did your cop actually tell you anything useful, or just ask a bunch of stupid questions?” Leo hummed. “Because mine was totally worthless.”

“Not really,” Raph admitted. “Just said they’re… lookin’. Or they’re gonna look. I mean,” Raph laughed nervously. “I mean. Technically, it ain’t even been an hour yet! Dad could be comin’ home any minute now.”

“Right,” Leo said, though he both knew neither of them believed it.

“Right,” Raph echoed weakly, the forced smile falling back off his face. Leo swallowed the lump in his throat quickly, looking down at his feet.

“My guy said that April’s mom is gonna… stay? Until Dad gets back?” He ventured, almost hesitantly.

“Yeah. Yeah. They said, uh, that the O’Neils would have. Uhm. Emergency custody, or something. Just. Uh. Until this gets sorted out, and stuff. So that’s good.”

“Yeah,” Leo said, nodding a tiny bit. His grip on the edges of his sweatshirt sleeves tightened, repeatedly smoothing his fingers over the soft fabric, pressing it tight between the pads of his fingers. “... Did you know Dad had a will? With… emergency custody arrangements?”

“... Nah. I didn’t.”

“He’s not that old.”

“Yeah, I know, Leo, but, I mean, Dad is… He probably just wanted to be cautious. I mean. Just in case something… bad happened, or something. He is a single parent ‘n all.” Raph defended, shooting a sidelong glance at Leo.

Leo immediately fled from the eye contact, looking down at his sneakers instead, his shoulders hunched. “Yeah. Probably,” he said.

What Raph was saying made sense. But his stomach still turned like something was really, really wrong.

“... How’re Donnie and Mikey holding up?” Leo finally asked after a long, heavy beat of silence between the two.

“Could be better,” Raph muttered, and Leo winced a bit. That meant ‘not good.’

“Think anyone’s gonna care if we head downstairs? We already answered all their questions. My guy said they were just finishing paperwork and stuff,” Leo said, nudging his brother slightly, ‘cause he knew that if he was anxious to check on the other two, his older brother had to be about five times as bad in that big head of him. Raph hesitated a bit and then nodded stiffly.

“Yeah. They can come find us if they need us,” he muttered, slowly turning his back on all the lingering crowds of adults, as though he was waiting to see if anyone was going to stop him, before leading the way down the stairs to the Lair.

The good news, Leo immediately noted, was that Mikey was no longer weeping. No, he had tapered down into very soft sniffles and hiccups, practically curled up in a ball in April’s lap, his face hidden against her shoulder. It took Leo a little bit to spot his twin, but eventually, he caught sight of them-- all the way across the room, pressed up into a corner, his back on the rest of them. April glanced up at Raph and Leo’s appearance, visible relief washing over her expression. Her face said, thank god you guys are here. There’s only one of me.

Leo watched his older brother all but physically flounder for a second, clearly torn, before Leo finally nudged him with his hip.

"Go squeeze the shit out of Mikey. I've got Donnie."

Raph frowned a bit. "You sure?"

"Yeah. I've got it," Leo repeated, not waiting around to listen and see if Raph had any further concerns or protests, heading off in the direction of his twin.

Donnie wasn't collapsed in a limp little ball like Mikey was. He was stiff and sharp, his shoulders held square and firm, all his limbs tucked in on himself and held there awkwardly, facing the wall and staring it down like it owed him money. It didn't look like it could possibly be comfortable, but to be fair, Leo thought that about a lot of things that Donnie did. There was no trembling, no shaking, no sniffles or hiccups or sobs. They were just still.

Very slowly, as though he was afraid he would spook them and scare them off, Leo moved to crouch and sit down next to them, getting settled on the cold concrete floor. For a good minute or so, they simply sat together, just the three of them-- Leo, Donnie, and the silence.

"Hey Don," Leo said quietly, and received no response. But that didn't really surprise him. If he wanted a reply, he had to give them something more tangible to hold. He knew that Donnie didn't have the grip to hang onto the smooth surface of small talk or vague prompts right now. They needed something straightforward. They needed something that required an answer.

"Did you get hurt at all or anything?" He asked. That should work. Uncomplicated, objective, based in fact. If he was being honest, it was what he wanted right now, too.

It took a minute, but finally, Donnie moved, (Leo swore he could hear their muscles untense, creaking and grinding and unsticking, like opening up a window that had been painted over,) his hands uncurling from tight fists so that they could sign instead.

'No.'

"Good," Leo whispered, because he didn't know what else to say. He was tempted to switch over to sign language as well, but with the way Donnie was sitting, their face practically shoved in the corner and Leo slightly behind them, with the way their eyes wouldn't focus on anything, he got the feeling that it wouldn't be very effective right now. "The police are almost done. They should be gone soon. They said they're just finishing up paperwork and stuff, I guess. And the O'Neils are gonna stay here with us until Dad's back. So we don't gotta go anywhere or anything."

Donnie didn't respond. They didn't make a noise. They didn't move. There was no change in their posture, no change in their expression, no change in their eyes. But Leo swore that he could feel their relief.

Of course, Donnie would refute such a claim. They had run multiple experiments as kids to test theories such as 'twin telepathy' or 'shared senses.' (Looking back, Leo was pretty sure it was just an excuse for the others to repeatedly hit him with a big stick, and Donnie had just wanted to see if he was dumb enough to fall for it. Unfortunately, he was.) And, okay, no. They couldn't feel each other's pain. Leo wasn't capable of finishing Donnie's sentences, he couldn't magically sense where Donnie was or if he needed help, and they had no telepathic or mind-meld abilities.

But they were twins.

It was just... their thing. They weren't just basic bitches like everyone else; they were twins, they were special. Leo adored being a twin. Any time they did icebreaker games at the beginning of a new school year or training camp, Leo knew exactly what his fun fact was gonna be. When he and Donnie were together, Leo took joy in just being around them, of getting to be the visible half of a pair. And when they were apart, he always looked for any opportunity to casually mention his twin in conversation to try to spark a reaction. So that people could go, oh god, there's two of them?

And to be clear, their Dad had never been the type of parent to treat them as twins. They didn't have matching names or anything. Never were they dressed in similar clothing or identical outfits. They were never 'The Twins,' they were 'Leo and Donnie.' Two separate people living separate lives. But that didn't stop it from being a part of them. That didn't mean that 'twin' wasn't something that Leo held onto as a piece of his identity.

'Dad told me to bring Mikey to the Lair.' Donnie signed.

Leo frowned a bit, opening his mouth and then closing it again. "... And?"

'I didn't.' Donnie's face tensed, a folded crease forming between his eyebrows. 'I didn't do anything. Dad was getting attacked and I didn't even move.'

"Dee," Leo sighed, his breath leaving his chest all at once. "Come on. What were you supposed to do? Everything was really fast! I mean, that guy was literally in and out of our house by the time I could get down the stairs--"

'You moved.' Donnie's motions were quick, harsh. 'You helped.'

"Helped?" Leo bit out an angry laugh despite himself, running his fingers through his hair exasperatedly, tugging at his curls. "Oh, yeah, big help I was! They could literally put that in the Hall of Martial Arts Fame for 'worst opening move ever.' Do you consider 'embarrassing our father and his dojo franchise by getting throat punched' to be helpful? If so, then sure, I was super helpful."

Donnie stayed quiet for a second, frowning, examining Leo's face as if he were searching for something.

'You weren't.'

"What?"

'You weren't throat-punched.'

"Well, I should have been."

'But you weren't.'

Leo bit the insides of his cheeks.

"... Yeah. Guess not."

Neither of them said anything else for a while, because what was there to say? 'So, anyway, what's your running theory on why our Dad straight up disappeared in a flash of neon light like this is a goddamn Jupiter Jim film? Wanna compare notes? I'm thinking maybe 'kidnapped by fairies,' any thoughts?'

There was this lump in Leo's throat that he did not want to be there, and he screwed his eyes shut, focusing on the pressure he created there instead of everything else in the universe right now. It wasn't working.

Donnie had never been a hugger. Even when they were younger, he really didn't like being touched or grabbed by anyone outside of his family, and even his dad and brothers had to learn not to push their luck when it came to physical affection 'cause Donnie liked what he liked and that was it. And the worse his headspace was, the narrower the field of 'acceptable touch' became.

Leo knew that their headspace was definitely not good right now.

His wasn't either. His was really not good.

"Dee," He found his voice again after a bit of trying and winced at how it kind of quivered ever so slightly at the end. "Are you... like. Hard no-touch right now, like, none at all, or--? Like. I mean. It's-- it's cool if you are, I just--"

After several long, heavy beats of silence, Donnie shook their head a tiny bit.

Leo scootched a bit closer to Donnie, hesitating for a second before very gently tucking his head down to rest against Donnie's shoulder. He moved slowly, watching, waiting to see if their brother would flinch or try to stop them-- purposefully giving them a chance to take it back and pull away. But they didn't. Leo's shoulders sagged as he settled, and eventually, Donnie leaned into him back, his body tilting in his direction, meeting the gentle, reassuring pressure with their own. Leo burrowed in just close enough to hide his face in the thick purple fabric of their hoodie, tucking himself away and letting Donnie hold a tiny bit of his weight for a while as he did the same for them.

Leo loved every member of his family. They were close, closer than most, and had been ever since they were little. And he would be the first to admit that Donnie and he didn't always get along. They were both too competitive for their own good and took way too much joy in getting a rise out of the other. They fought often, and between that and their busy schedules, they would sometimes go days at a time without so much as speaking to one another.

But Donnie was his twin. They had been conceived together, for god's sake-- they had always been there, every single step of his life, and there was something reassuring about that, somehow. Leo had never really had to face anything on his own because he had come pre-packaged with a partner.

"Purple, may I speak with you for a moment?" Their Dad's voice had both boys' heads popping up slightly in response, looking up from the video game they were currently occupying themselves with.

Donnie's head bowed back down quickly enough, only giving a short nod. Leo recognized that Dad probably wanted to talk to Donnie alone, without the video games, but he also recognized by now that Donnie probably either didn't or just didn't care. Either way, Leo wasn't gonna point it out. Dad seemed to think about it, but then let it go, kneeling down next to them.

"You're doing very well in school, Purple," Dad said, and Donnie nodded a little. This wasn't news for anyone in the room.

"Your teachers are very impressed. Your classes are pretty easy for you right now, aren't they?"

Donnie nodded again, and Leo rolled his eyes a little bit. Yeah, whatever. Show off. Donnie always acted like everything was so easy, Fractions were not nearly as simple as he made them out to be!

"What would you think about learning some harder things? New things?"

This caught Donnie's attention. Their head bobbed up again.

"Your teachers think you could skip a few grades. And begin taking some more advanced classes," their father continued. "That would be fun, right?"

Leo's heart climbed up into his throat as he listened in. Wait, skip a few grades? As in, like... take classes with other kids in some other part of the school? Without him? He blanched a bit at the thought of being left behind. But... but they went to school together. They took classes together. If Donnie took different classes, then who was Leo gonna sit with at lunch? Who's fruit snacks would he steal? Who would help him cheat on math quizzes? If he wasn't in class with Donnie, then who would defend him from dodgeballs in gym class? What would happen if Donnie had to touch something he didn't like if Leo wasn't around to do it for him...?

"... What about Leo?" Donnie asked, and Leo looked over at him in surprise. "Could he come, too?"

"... No," Dad said slowly, his brows furrowing a bit. "Leo would stay in the second grade. But you would still see each other every day after school, just like you do Mikey and Raph."

Donnie had lost interest in the conversation. He looked back down at the screen again, re-engaging in their Pokemon battle once more and turning his energy back to beating up Leo's poor Wartortle.

"If Leo can't come then I don't want to."

Sometimes, Leo felt guilty. Like he had held Donnie back somehow. They had figured out the hybrid-schooling model that Donnie still did today a bit after that, and Dad later said that he was glad it worked out that way. That he wasn’t so sure about Donatello skipping grades, that he wanted Donnie to have a chance to ‘make friends his own age’ and ‘socialize…’ But still. When people called his brother a ‘genius’ they weren’t kidding around, and he often wondered where Donnie could be by now if he had skipped those grades. If he had enrolled in some advanced math and science academy, had steamrolled ahead with no hesitations or holds barred...

But he would have missed them if they had.

They were close, the two of them, in this weird, mismatched sort of way. Leo recognized that. But on nights when he couldn't sleep, sometimes he would think about what things were like when they were little. They were inseparable back then. A teacher had tried to sort them into two different groups for an activity in kindergarten once, and Donnie had screamed so loud that they got calls from neighboring buildings. Leo couldn't help but look at the two of them, back then, and then compare those memories to them now.

And there was this gap. There was this space between them now that hadn’t been there before, and Leo wasn’t sure when it had formed. Donnie wasn't far. They were still within arm's reach, even. But there was this distance between them that hadn’t been there once, and though most days it didn't bother him, some days Leo couldn't help but look at the distance and wonder how much bigger it could get. What would that gap look like in five years? What about in twenty?

How much further away was Donnie going to go? He was smart. He was gonna go places, Leo had known that ever since they were tiny. There was no way he was going to spend the rest of his life standing in one place, within Leo's easy reach. And Leo, if he was being quite honest with himself, had no idea where he himself was going yet.

He would never say this out loud, never in a million years, but... Leo needed his family. A lot more than they needed him, he figured.

He sighed softly, wrinkling his nose, pressing a bit closer into his brother.

Their Dad had better come back soon.

---

Whoever said ‘time heals all wounds’ was an optimist and a fool.

Time changed wounds, that was certain, shifted and molded them, but heal? Yoshi wasn’t so sure. Despite the many years gone by, each time he found himself back at the Battle Nexus, it made his stomach flop and his chest ache in about fifteen different ways. Most of them unpleasant. It felt like somehow time failed to touch this place. Each time he came back, it seemed like the only thing that had changed were the names on the flyers, endlessly cycling from one champion to another. Even the faces of the guards didn’t seem to change. Not that it really mattered. So long as they knew well enough to let him in to see Big Mama when he demanded it, he didn’t especially care.

He and the employee who escorted him didn’t speak, which was just fine by him. He wasn’t exactly in the mood to talk. The long, winding stone hallways that they wandered through were cold and familiar, and even now, he could hear the distant cheer of the crowd.

He didn’t need an escort. He knew this place well enough that he could navigate on his own. But he didn’t want to waste his breath arguing. It had, admittedly, been a long time.

The last time he had been in this place was nearly a decade ago.

Hamato Yoshi had approached the Battle Nexus, panicked, floundered, and turned back around to re-gather himself around the block about five times now. Each time, he would eventually settle himself down, wringing his hands anxiously and smoothing his whiskers, talking himself up once more and telling himself, ‘this time, I will go. I will just walk in. It will be fine,’ only to turn around at the last second and retreat again.

Yoshi didn't understand why this was so difficult. Was this really what did him in!? Of everything he had faced in his life!? This was the thing that left him cowed-- seeing his ex?!

To be fair, it was his ex who had kidnapped him and held him as a hostage and forced him to fight for his life as a source of entertainment for yokai for over a decade... and he did look a bit different than he had the last time he had seen her, which certainly didn't do anything to strengthen his courage.

Do it for your sons, do it for your sons, do it for your sons... He chanted internally, taking a few long, deep breaths. This was the only way forward, and if he wanted this to work, (which he desperately did, both for his children's sake and, admittedly, for his own as well,) then he was going to have to man up and go talk to his ex-girlfriend.

What's the worst that could happen?

No, actually, don't think about that.

His next approach was not aborted. He marched up to the guard at the (least populated) entrance of the Battle Nexus, wearing all the faux confidence and swagger that he could possibly muster.

"I am here to see Big Mama."

The guard seemed unimpressed, raising one fuzzy eyebrow and giving a soft snort of doubt as he looked down at the other. Yoshi so dearly missed being 5'11".

"Right... Do you have an appointment?"

Come on, Yoshi. Stretch those acting muscles. "I am quite confident that she will want to see me, appointment or otherwise." He insisted coolly, taking care to keep his posture relaxed.

"Uh-huh." The guard said, all but scoffing down at him. This would be so much easier if he didn't look like a damn rat, Yoshi thought dejectedly. If he were still himself, he would just be able to walk in. No one would even think to stop Lou Jitsu from waltzing into the Battle Nexus! The hired muscle pulled a walkie-talkie out of his belt loop, one hand on his hip as he spoke into the device, never taking his slitted yellow eyes off of their guest.

"Big Mama? There's a rat out here to see ya'. Says you'll want to talk to him."

There was a beat of silence before a staticky, but familiar, voice chimed from the other end, making Yoshi's heart-rate jump embarrassingly.

"Afraid I'm a tad busy at the moment. Tell them to toddle off, please."

"You heard the boss," the goblin yokai grunted, crossing his arms over his chest, taking an intimidating step forward as if to try to start herding his guest away. Yoshi bristled a bit. It wasn't as though he were afraid of this guy, quite confident he could make quick work of him if he so pleased... but he also knew there were about five hundred more versions of him scattered about the facility, and he didn't especially want to make a scene.

He groaned in frustration, burying his burning face in his hands for a moment. Was this really what he was reduced to!? Oh, how he had fallen from grace!

"Fine! Fine. Tell her... tell her that her… Snuggle Muffin Beefcake is here."

Honestly, the guard had no right to blush at him back. Yoshi wasn’t necessarily proud of his methodology, but eventually, after some flurried back and forth and some more private walkie-talkie conversations, he was finally allowed entry into the infamous Battle Nexus.

Yoshi grumbled softly to himself as he trudged through the familiar halls of the Nexus, his tail dragging on the cold stone behind him. The guard who was escorting him, to their credit, did not even bother to look back at him as he shuffled his feet and fussed anxiously. The trip up to Big Mama's luxury box felt longer than it used to be. But he had a feeling that this was just nerves.

"Wait here. Don't touch anything." The employee said shortly, holding the door to the private viewing box open just long enough for Yoshi to shuffle in, before closing it firmly behind him with a dull thud. Yoshi grumbled under his breath, squaring his shoulders, straightening, and then finally daring to look around.

It looked different than it had the last time he had been here. He supposed that made sense. It had been-- what? Five years since he had last been up here? And he knew how important being in the latest fashion was to Big Mama. She never went more than six months before updating at least some part of her personal spaces, whether this be new furniture or a fresh coat of paint.

He wandered slowly through the place, finding everything that was still familiar, one by one. The couch had been reupholstered, but it was the same one. He recognized the tiny chip on the front left leg of it. She was still using the same crystal plates and goblets. And the balcony was nearly untouched, with the same ghostly green glass barrier and smooth stone floor. The surface was uneven, worn away from thousands of footsteps moving across it over the years. Yoshi wondered how many of those footsteps were his.

He had spent over eleven years here in the Battle Nexus, and he had spent countless hours up here. Countless hours in the fighting ring below. Countless hours in the dungeons and cells even further below that. He and Big Mama's relationship had been a bit... uh... hot-and-cold during that time.

He would piss her off and be locked in a cell underground for a few weeks. They would kiss and make up and he'd spend a few weeks lounging in the Luxury Box when not in combat, free to wander the Hidden City as he pleased. Then he'd eventually grow restless, or something would happen, he would try to escape, he'd get caught, the cycle would repeat...

It was complicated.

He leaned over the balcony slightly, the roar of the spectators below made his pink ears twitch. Even now, two Battle Nexus champions fought far below, their grueling battle caught in high-res and displayed on the massive jumbotron mounted above. Yoshi observed for a moment, quietly thinking to himself that his money was on the smaller, masked yokai darting about the arena. The hulking crocodile creature they were up against was certainly a formidable opponent, but his strength could not match her agility, and Yoshi could already see the exhaustion in his movements from here. He would not last much longer.

He didn't recognize either of them, but he reminded himself coldly that this really shouldn't be of any surprise to him. It had been years, after all, and even more pointedly, he had likely ended the careers of most adversaries he met in the Battle Nexus. If they survived at all.

Yoshi swallowed those memories back down. This wasn't the time. Just as he turned away from the balcony, not wishing to observe any longer, the double doors to the room opened.

Dammit. He had really been hoping she wouldn't be in spider form.

"Snuggle Muffin Beefcake? Where did you hear that naughty little nickname, rat man?" Big Mama hissed as she approached, her legs clacking against the floor, circling the other almost like a lioness waiting for an opening to pounce. Yoshi wasn't quite sure if this was terrifying, thrilling, or both, and he hated every option.

Charm, don't fail me now.

"From you, as we tangoed the night away, my sassy sugar badger."

"It is you!" The woman gasped, all six of her beady red eyes lighting up with joy, melting into Yoshi’s embrace. It was sweet, Yoshi just really wished that she had hands instead of insectile claws. But he supposed he did have little rat paws himself, so maybe he didn't have the room to complain. "And more fetching than ever, my fuzzy cuddleofagus…!"

The emotion in her voice made his chest all gooey, and he internally scolded himself. Weak, weak man.

"I did not come for the trip down kidnapping lane!" Yoshi huffed, glancing slightly to the side, separating the two of them. "... I am here because I need your help."

Big Mama straightened herself once she was standing on her own eight feet once more, giving a soft little hum and smile (Or was that a snarl? A sneer? Honestly, it was hard to tell.)

"Lots of people need my help, huggypoo, I'm afraid you'll have to be just a skosh more specific about the situation."

Yoshi sighed deeply. "Okay, fine. Do you know of Baron Draxum?"

"Oh, there's not a noogin in the whole Hidden City who doesn't know Draxy by now."

"So you've heard of his arrest."

"Of course, everyone in the city is all a-fuzzy-buzz about the whole nasty business."

"Okay," Yoshi said, taking a deep breath. "Okay, so, basically, what happened is five years ago Draxum sent his gargoyles to kidnap me so he could use my DNA to create mutant super soldiers to wipe out the human race, and also I think he is a fan? But then the lab caught on fire, and there was quite a large explosion, I got turned into a rat, he made four mutant children with some turtles and ooze and probably other things, I think, and when I escaped I took them with me, so I guess now they're my sons, and also they have my DNA, so I guess they’re biologically my kids, too? And we have been living in the sewers in hiding because I'm pretty sure that he thinks that we died in the fire and I would really rather not deal with him coming after us and trying to do a whole custody battle thing, I'm pretty sure it would be messy, and obviously, he is not fit to be a parent, I mean, come on, have you met that guy? But here is the thing, living in the sewer is sort of a bummer and not really the best environment to raise four small children if I'm being completely honest, but now Draxum has been arrested and so I don’t really have to worry so much about him hunting us down or whatever, which means we do not have to be in hiding, which is great, but obviously we cannot go up to New York with... this whole situation."

He gestured to all of himself.

The silence that followed, though brief, was deafening.

"Oh my," Big Mama finally said. "You do need my help."

Yoshi sighed deeply, feeling himself slump slightly. "Please, Gumo. They are just little boys. I do not want them to spend their entire lives in abandoned sewer tunnels all on their own."

Big Mama narrowed her eyes slightly, giving Yoshi an almost sharp look. The space between them was long and heavy before she finally spoke again.

"So you want cloaking crystals, then."

"And," Yoshi hissed, pointing a finger. "I want your word that you will leave me and my sons in peace!"

Okay, this one was definitely a smile. "I suppose that can be arranged, cuddlekins. But! It's going to cost you!" She all but giggled, tapping the tip of his nose teasingly, sending Yoshi reeling back with a loud huff.

"Cost me!?" He snapped. "Don't you think you owe me after, I don't know, kidnapping me!? I still have not gotten an apology, by the way!"

"Oh, don't be such a Prickley Petey," she laughed, waving him off. "Business is business. And besides, you loved fighting in my Battle Nexus!"

"I most certainly did not!"

"Oh, pish-posh. I don’t want to hear that sort of taradiddle. We had such magnificent times together! Just thinking about it makes my heart get all fizzy-pop!" She sighed happily.

"You tormented me!"

"Oh, is that so?" She chirped, tilting her head to the side. "That is just the most confoundfiddly thing, because I was quite sure you were enjoying yourself in that hot tub up on the rooftop that time when we--"

"Enough!" Yoshi shouted, his face flaming. No, no, no, he was not here to get tangled back in her web! They did not have to touch on such memories! "Are you going to help me or not!?"

"Well," she sighed dramatically as she made her way over to the couch in the middle of the room, draping herself across it and pretending to consider her answer. "I suppose I could… for a price.”

That was what Yoshi was afraid she would say. He knew her deals. He had seen many poor souls fall victim to them over the years, and been on the receiving end of them plenty of times himself... And he knew that it never ended well. No one ever outsmarted Big Mama. In the end, she always came out on top.

But he had already known that when he came here. He wouldn't have ever asked her for help if he had any other choice, but it had been weeks now, and he had exhausted every other option he could possibly find. Every shady Hidden City dealer, every run-down pawn shop, every charity or old connection he could find, he had tried, and every time he had run into dead ends. No one had the resources he needed to be Hamato Yoshi again. No one had the resources he needed to give his sons a fighting chance.

He had always known he was going to have to face her at some point. He couldn't bring his sons to the surface with a loose string like her still dangling behind him... He just wished he had been able to come here asking for less. Maybe then his knees would feel a bit less shaky.

Walking up to the negotiation table without anything in his pockets was not a good feeling.

Yoshi narrowed his eyes but then sighed softly. "What do you want?"

---

The Hidden City was carved into the earth, deep underground, and as a result, there was no moon or sun here. No stars or sky above. All the light in their world came from the massive glowing mushrooms that grew in abundance here, and the only hint at the passage of time came from the slightly cooler hue that they shifted to during the night.

Draxum estimated that, based on the current color, it had to be at least two in the morning, if not later. It had been several hours now since Lou Jitsu had fled from him, much to his irritation, and he had been forced to use every moment he had since on damage control.

Lou Jitsu may have escaped, but it had been quite easy to capture the little golden yokai who had brought them here in the first place. They were of little threat while still unconscious, and though he did admit that his mystic powers were still much weaker than they had once been, it was easy enough to create a hard-light structure capable of keeping the teleporting creature in one place. He would deal with them properly later.

He had no doubt that Lou Jitsu would immediately run to report him to the Hidden City Police, and he could not risk still being nearby when they came to investigate. Once the agent was neutralized, he could work on the next biggest issue.

Where was he going?

He couldn't return to his former lab... They would no doubt look there if it was even still standing to begin with. He also knew full well that his face was likely plastered all over the city by now. He couldn't risk showing himself there, at least not until things had died down a bit. He had already pushed his luck enough as it was, boldly launching a full-frontal attack on the Hamato Clan. He recognized that he had perhaps been reckless, but what else could he have done!? All these years, he thought that his studies had all been lost... here he was, prepared to start his life's work over from scratch... only to learn that it had been stolen from him over a decade ago.

Lou Jitsu had had them this entire time.

He had been shocked to find posters up in the city with his arch-enemy’s face plastered on them. Draxum had all but thrown himself at every underground, low-life contact he could still find in the city to dig up the man’s location, making full use of the precious time he had before news of his escape broke and people began looking at his disguise with more scrutiny. A simple location potion from a street vendor in Witch Town was all he needed.

To think that the legendary Lou Jitsu was not only alive but hoarding his experiments as his own, thinking that he could trick him with simple cloaking crystals! The turtles’ mere existence on the earth brought him so much closer to his goal than he would have ever dared to dream. All he needed was to return them to his possession and unlock their full potential. And once the human threat had been eliminated, and yokai would once again be free to live peacefully on the earth, his name would be cleared, his record expunged, and he would finally be free to live in peace as well.

He was so close. And once he had achieved his goal... this will have all been worth it. He felt this more than anything else he had ever experienced in his entire life. He always had. And if he had to give his life for the survival and happiness of yokai-kind, so be it. It was a sacrifice he was willing to make.

This thought alone was almost enough to send him straight back to the surface, to make another attempt at reclaiming his mutations right at this very moment, but he knew it would be too risky. If he was caught now, it would be much harder to make a second escape, and he couldn't afford to waste any more time. He was forced to be cautious for now, and seek shelter. And with the Hidden City off the table, this left him with very few options.

He could stay out here, on the outskirts of the city, and hope that no Hidden City police patrols found him, but he knew that this wasn't wise. The police force wasn’t exactly known for their efficiency or competence, but that didn't mean he should stay here and simply trust that no one would manage to find him. He could flee to the human world, but the very thought gave him hives. Live amongst those abominations? The scourge of this planet? He’d sooner turn himself over to the Talking Heads themselves.

He had spent quite some time now raking through every possible option, and though none of them were great... he was fairly convinced now that this was his best possible choice. Breathing slowly, he focused his energy in his core, summoning it up through his limbs and allowing it to settle and pool in his gut. Making a portal in this state was rather ambitious, but he didn't have any other reliable or subtle means of transportation, and he had very little time to waste... So it was a price he would simply have to pay.

He could nearly feel the mystic energy trickling from his fingertips like blood from a wound, his brows twitching slightly with the strain as the pitch-black swirl of magicks curled open in front of him, pushing outward like a flower bud blossoming. A soft, whispering hiss filled the air around him, the portal itself trying to beckon him forward and inside, hungry for a guest to escort, shifting the air around him.

Draxum smiled smugly to himself, letting out a low, heaving breath. Taxing, but achieved easily enough. Even in this weakened state, he was four times the sorcerer than any other wielder in the Hidden City. He stepped confidently through the portal, allowing it to snap shut behind him as his eyes adjusted to the new lighting.

If he was not safe in the Hidden City, and he could not bear the human world... Then he would live in between the two.

He would admit, the abandoned sewers of New York were not the most ideal place to rest and regain his mystic power... But it would work for now as a temporary hide-out. He had much work to do.

---

"Here's what I can offer you."

Yoshi rested his elbows on his thighs, listening intently.

"I give my solemn word that neither I nor any of my employees or associates will pester you or your family. You won't hear a peep from me, snugglykins. The little turtley-boos won't even know I exist."

Okay, a solid start.

"I can also arrange to have everything you'll need to move up tippy-topside. I'm sure there will be lots of questions and paperwork, and as you can imagine, the hotel has people for precisely that kind of prickley-snitch. You'll have all the forged documents, lawyers, and helpful little enchantments you'll need to move everything along smoothly and get this sorted without any sort of tribble."

That was pretty good!

"Lastly, I can give you five Cloaking Crystal bracelets. Top of the line quality, guaranteed to last, complete with anti-removal magicks... and unlimited 24-7 tech support."

Unlimited tech support?! Dang, that was really good!

"All I ask for in return is that you return to the Battle Nexus as my champion."

Yoshi almost choked on his own tongue. "WHAT?!" He spat, spluttering and coughing for a moment. "Are you crazy!?"

"Oh, come now. I think that's more than generous." She tsked in return, crossing her forearms. "And because I have a soft spot for my cuddle muffin, I'll even be willing to take an I-O-U. I'll give you and your turtley-boos five whole years to bauble about New York together before I collect and you come back to work for me."

Yoshi gaped. "Five years!? Five years is not nearly enough time!"

"I should think five years is plenty!" She protested. "That's more than enough time to get them adjusted to all the bafflegab of the city and arrange for new guardianship."

"They're children!" Yoshi floundered. "I knew you would do this! Always has to be something in it for you!!!... My Battle Nexus days are behind me! I have made that very clear!"

"Those are my terms."

"There has to be something else you want! Look-- there will be royalties, once I get back to the surface, lots of them, I'm sure--! I can pay you."

"No."

"We could arrange a monthly fee--"

"I have no interest in your money, dearheart." She tsked. "I have plenty of money. And besides that, nothing you can offer me will be even near as much as what you'll make me when you're my fabtabulous champion again!" She grinned at him, looking almost predatory. “I don’t want your money. I want you.”

"Please. There has to be something else."

"I'm afraid this is the only deal I can offer you, flutterbum." Big Mama replied cooly. "Take it or leave it."

Yoshi balled his hands into fists, resisting a growl of frustration. How could he possibly agree to this? Even putting aside how the thought of returning to the Battle Nexus filled him with terror, he couldn’t leave his sons to grow up without a parent! How could he ever bring himself to abandon his children…?

His mind flipped through every alternative he could possibly conjure. In the time that the two of them sat together in silence in the Luxury Box, Yoshi ran through half a million different schemes, plans, and possibilities. But every single one came up blank.

How could he bring himself to walk away from his children’s chance at a real life?

“... Eighteen years.” He said. That was enough to see Mikey through to college.

“Eighteen? Aren’t we feeling optimistic!” Big Mama laughed aloud. “Let’s not waste our time on bafflegab, sweetheart. The highest I’ll go is ten.”

“Sixteen.”

“Twelve.”

“Fourteen.”

“Thirteen.”

“Fourteen.” Yoshi pressed. His youngest was four. At the very least, he wanted them all to be legal adults before he left. It would be easier that way.

Big Mama stayed quiet for a bit, humming softly and narrowing her eyes. Yoshi resisted the urge to fidget in place. God, what was he doing?... He didn’t even know if she’d agree to this. Fourteen years was a long time. And he wasn’t exactly young, even now, already creeping into his forties (good lord,) would she even still want him in fourteen years?...

“... Fine.” She finally said. “But I reserve the right to begin advertisement for the eventual re-launch of your career as I see fit. Agreed?”

Yoshi blinked slowly.

She was willing to take the deal.

He took a long, deep breath, holding it for several seconds, and then let it back out.

He could not walk away from his children’s only chance at a real life.

“Agreed.”

---

The Luxury Box had changed again since Yoshi had been here last. She had replaced the couch entirely this time. The new one was red velvet.

“Well, fancy you dropping by!” Big Mama hummed, seeming absolutely tickled by his presence. “I don’t suppose this has anything to do with that whole hullabaloo with Draxy, does it, huggypoo?”

Yoshi bristled, clenching his fists. His mind raced looking for anywhere else he could turn to besides where he currently was. But he still wasn’t finding any good answers.

“... You promised that my children would be safe. That was part of our deal.”

“Nice try, dearheart, but I do believe that the deal was that your children would be safe from me.” She corrected primly, offering him a cool smile and crossing one leg over the other. Somehow this was worse than when she was a big spider. “And I haven’t touched a single hair on the little turtleyboos’ heads, now have I?”

Yoshi frowned. He knew she was right. He knew that that had always been the deal. He just hoped that, maybe, she had forgotten…

Maybe this would be easy.

“I know you are far more connected to the city than the police are.” She employed most of them, after all. “Do you have any word…?”

“No progress yet, I’m afraid. Draxy dearest is still at large, and beyond that little report you put in, there are no leads yet.” Yoshi winced, grinding his teeth. Of course… A little part of him said, maybe she’s lying, but he knew that was just hopeful optimism. “I see you two already caught up.” She remarked with a tiny smile.

Yoshi grumbled, knowing that all the various bruises and scrapes were probably starting to turn brilliant shades of purple and blue, red and orange, slowly discoloring at each former point of contact.

“He came after my sons.”

“Hmmm. That’s a shame.” Big Mama said, not sounding the least bit concerned as she sipped at her tea. “And you just decided to pop in for a visit while you were in the neighborhood, is that it…?”

This was a game to her. Yoshi knew that. But that didn’t stop it from frustrating the hell out of him.

“... My children are in danger.”

“And I suppose you want me to do something about that, don’t you?” She questioned, throwing him a glance. Yoshi frowned but did not reply. “A bit bold to ask me for more help, when you still haven’t even paid me back for the last time.”

“Look. I have money. I have mystic artifacts! I have ancient scrolls with unhelpful glowy guys in them if you want!”

Big Mama laughed. “Huggypoo, I’ve already told you what I want.” She told him, and Yoshi’s heart sank. “I’ll tell you what,” She continued, setting her teacup down in its saucer, the china clicking together very softly. “I can make arrangements to ensure the safety of your little turtleyboos. Between my guards and my magicks, Draxxy won’t be able to touch them, and they won’t be even a nudge the wiser. And, in return…”

Her smile grew wider.

“We can move the timeline of our last deal up a smidge. That sounds fair, wouldn’t you say?”

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#sorrywhatnowfic #sorrywhatnowaufic #tmnt #rottmnt #tmnt human au #tmnt fanfic #rottmnt fanfic #fidgetwing #rise donnie #rise mikey #rottmnt donnie #rottmnt mikey #sorry the chapter art is a bit lackluster I am super fucking sick lol #sorrywhatnowau

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tangledinink · 1 year

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Chapter Seven of I'm Sorry, Teenage Mutant What Now? is out! Just normal teenage boys doing normal teenage things. :) Read it on ao3 or below the cut.

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It had been three days now since they last saw their dad.

On the first night, over and over, everyone kept saying, ‘I’m sure he’ll be home any minute. He’s more than capable of defending himself. He wouldn’t just disappear. Any second now,’ and the only reason that Mikey had been able to get himself to sleep that night was because he thought that maybe when he woke up again, Dad would be back. He wanted to just skip forward to the good part. But then when he woke up, the good part wasn’t there.

The following morning, Mrs. O’Neil was in the kitchen making breakfast, with the blankets all folded up neat on the couch as if she hadn’t slept there that night. April helped set the table, as if this were normal, as if she hadn’t slept on a bean bag in the Lair, as if they were meant to be here and it made sense for them to be carefully preparing for a big pancake breakfast instead of wolfing down bagels and granola bars in a chaotic frenzy, attempting to make it out the door on time.

It wasn’t like Mikey didn’t appreciate it. He did. It was nice, the gentle looks, the backrubs, the hugs… But it felt weird. Alien, almost. And yet, even with things being so starkly different, even with the five of them staying home from school, staying home from activities, in this absolute jarring contrast to their normal routine, at the same time, there were still these moments that felt so… untouched. Leo and April made bad puns when the opportunity arose like they always did. Raph physically picked up and moved them when they were in his way or getting on his nerves, like usual. Donnie took the time to check up on all of his houseplants, watering anyone who needed it. Some memes were sent to the group chat. Leo and Raph got in a fight over the last raspberry popsicle in the freezer.

There were moments where Mikey could almost look around and pretend like everything was normal. Dad just wasn’t home right now, and that was all. There were all these beats and steps that just weren’t colored by this horrible thing at all, in this weird way that Mikey wasn’t expecting.

But just on the surface level.

Because no. Dad isn’t just out getting groceries or meeting with an agent or picking up takeout. Dad isn’t here. And they don’t know where he is.

They had already discovered, on that very first night, that Dad’s cell phone was left in his bedroom. They had obviously all tried texting and calling him about eighty times each, with no response, and eventually found the phone, plugged into its charger on his nightstand. They tried guessing the passcode, but none of them knew it, so they had all looked at Donnie. They said that they would figure it out and pocketed the device. And aside from coming down to care for their plants and grab some banana pancakes, they hadn’t been down from their room since.

They spent most of the first day making calls. They contacted everyone that they could think of. Dad’s agent, his lawyers, any friends or acquaintances he knew. They called each and every one of his dojo locations. Anyone whose number they could find who they had ever known to speak with Dad, they contacted, asking them if they had seen him, heard from him, had anyone idea who the masked guy could be? And over and over they heard, no, sorry. We haven’t seen him. We haven’t heard from him. We don’t know anything about this stranger. We’ll keep an eye out and let you know right away if anything changes. Dead end. Dead end. Dead end.

They texted people, they sent emails, they combed the internet for anything that might be helpful, but they didn’t find anything. The whole group, Mrs. O’Neil and even Donnie included (Mrs. O’Neil, I mean, Carol, made them come. Mikey thought that it was probably because they were nervous about anyone being alone after… you know,) took multiple walks around the neighborhood, the neighborhood next over, and the neighborhood next over to that, looking for any sign of their father.

On the second day, Mikey made posters, and they started hanging those up when they did their walks. Word was starting to spread, and Mikey kept getting texts on his phone-- friends from school, friends from dance, friends from sports, friends of friends… At first, Mikey would reply to all of them. Would say, oh, thank you so much for reaching out, we really appreciate it, please, if you see him at all, let us know… But that rapidly became exhausting. After the first ten, Mikey took to just copy-and-pasting the same message asking them to look, along with an image of the poster he had made. And even just that was exhausting. What was he supposed to say? ‘Everything is horrible and I have no idea how I’m feeling right now, I’m just overwhelmed and terrified-- thanks tho, melting face emoji?’

Donnie got into Dad’s phone but didn’t find anything useful. They sent out emails and texts to every contact he had saved, even though they didn’t recognize half of them, and posted on every social media that he had. All four of them posted on their social media, too. Mikey made a TikTok video reaching out to 350k of his followers. He kept all his notifications on, hoping and waiting that someone would message him telling him that they had seen him and he was okay… but it didn’t come. There was a flood of empathetic comments, of thoughts and prayers, of heart emojis. But nothing that would help them. He and his brothers posted on every Lou Jitsu fan forum that they could find, but they got much of the same there, too.

And now it had been three days. Three days was a long, long time. Ever since that first night, Mikey couldn’t really sleep. He knew his siblings couldn’t, either, and he anxiously fussed over them whenever he could, trying to encourage them to get some rest. Especially Leo. He hardly ever slept even on a good day-- now he kind of just seemed more and more like a wreck as time passed. All of them did.

It was on the third day that Mrs. O'Neil got a phone call. Well-- she had been on the phone on-and-off ever since she got here that first night, making calls and taking them, even more than they had. But this phone call, in particular, went a little like this:

"Hello?"

"Yes, this is she,"

"What?"

"No, I'm sorry,"

"No."

"Yes, I'm absolutely certain. No. No, we're not accepting any interview requests right now. I'm not sure you do understand. With all due respect, I'm not putting any of these kids on TV right now. Yes, I'm quite sure."

"Yes."

"You have a great day, too. Goodbye."

Mikey knew that all four of his siblings were listening, but Leo was the first one to speak once Carol hung up the phone.

"Who was that?"

"A reporter," Carol sighed in response. They had barely exchanged five words and she already seemed exhausted with this conversation.

"What did they want?"

Carol pursed her lips. "They were asking about doing a live interview or bringing you guys on their talk show. I told them we weren't interested."

"Why would you tell them that?"

"Because we're not."

"Uhm. Maybe you're not," Leo corrected, his brows furrowing. "Why the hell can't I do an interview? I can do interviews! I've done interviews before! I'm great at interviews."

"It's not a good idea, Leo," Carol said, putting her phone down, turning her attention back to her laptop in front of her, beginning to type again. Oof. That was gonna piss Leo off.

"Why not?!" Leo demanded, growing pissed off. "I've done interviews before! I've done live shows! I could totally handle this! Besides, we're trying to get the word out to as many people as possible. What if someone saw the interview and knew where Dad was? This could help!"

"This isn't up for debate, Leo. I'm not putting any of you kids on a talk show right now."

"Why is it your decision!? I'm the one who would be on the show! Why don't I get to decide?"

"Because I'm the adult," Carol was just a step away from snapping, but her voice was hard, definitive. "I just said this isn't up for debate. I'm sorry, but it's off the table. It's not a good idea."

Mikey looked nervously at his brother, wondering if he should say something. Raph looked like he was about to, but Leo huffed, rolling his eyes and getting to his feet. "Fine," he hissed in reply, promptly moving to the front door and beginning to put on his shoes.

"Where are you going?" Carol questioned, frowning a bit.

"Gymnastics."

"Leo--"

"I'm sick of sitting around here not doing anything! It's driving me crazy. We have gymnastics practice right now. I'm going to gymnastics. Mikey, are you coming?"

Mikey jumped when eyes shifted to him, floundering for a second. If he was being totally honest, he wasn't exactly in a gymnastics mood, but... he knew that Mrs. O'Neil wasn't gonna let Leo go by himself. And there was no way he was gonna convince Donnie to even leave his room, let alone go to gymnastics practice. Maybe... it would be good? Get his mind off of things?

"Yeah. Uh. I'll come. Let me grab my stuff. Hang on," he said, jumping to his feet and scampering off to grab their gymnastics bags-- packed and ready to go in the hallway, like they always were, like they didn't know anything was wrong.

"Leo, I don't know if this is--"

"I'm not going alone, Mikey is with me. There's gonna be adults there. We'll get a taxi cab home when it gets dark. I'm not gonna sit here twiddling my thumbs anymore. I'm gonna go insane." Leo spoke over her, and Mikey thought privately to himself that that was rather ballsy. Leo must really be upset because usually none of them would dare interrupt Mrs. O'Neil. He hurried to get his shoes on, hoping that they could escape before things got too heated. Sorry April, sorry Raph.

"Ready, Mikey?"

"Yeah… yeah, I'm ready. Let's go."

---

April was trying really hard to be patient with her brothers right now, 'cause she knew that they were having a hard time. I mean, if either of her parents went missing, she'd probably be behaving less than her best, too. Raph was clingier than ever, and April had had to talk him off the metaphorical ledge about five times now, Donnie had turned into a total hermit, even by Donnie standards, Leo was honestly being kind of a brat, and Mikey was...

Ugh. God. Mikey. He was such a sweetheart. He was killing himself, April could tell. Even more than she was killing herself right now. She would have to corner him later. Right after she cornered Leo.

And kicked his ass.

Look, she got where he was coming from, but did he really need to tick her mom off like that!? And then leave her to deal with it?! She knew her mom was mostly just worried, (and, okay, maybe also kind of peeved, but April could only kind of blame her,) but that didn't make it any more pleasant. And once she managed to settle her down, she had to deal with Raph, too.

If her mom was freaked out, then Raph was about ready to lose his mind. April half thought he was gonna take off after Leo and Mikey on foot any second now. April sank into the couch next to him, bodily draping herself over his lap to make sure he didn't go anywhere.

"Hey Big Guy," she said, blinking up at him, forcing a half-hearted smile. "How you holding up?"

"Me?" Raph said, just barely glancing down at her before his eyes snapped away again, anxious and flighty. "I'm fine. Raph's fine. How are you holding up?"

God, they were all so predictable. April privately thought that self-sacrifice must be a Hamato tradition. It was simply a question of which one of them could outdo the rest.

"You're a bad liar. You're as bad as Mikey. As bad as Donnie."

"What?!" Raph squawked in protest. "I am not as bad as Donnie! No one's as bad as Donnie!"

"Okay, well, maybe not that bad," April relented. "Leo and Mikey are gonna be fine. They're taking the subway in broad daylight. They're only gonna be, like, ten minutes away. They both had their phones and they already said they'll take a taxi cab home. It's okay."

"I know," Raph said, wrinkling up his nose. "It's just-- I mean. What if somethin' bad happens to 'em? And I'm not there to help?"

"You know it's not your fault, right?"

There was a telling silence.

"Raph. It's not your job to protect your Dad from creepy stalker fans. And you couldn't have done anything."

"I know," Raph relented, frowning a little. And it wasn't that April didn't believe him, but... There was a difference between knowing and knowing. April knew that perfectly well. Raph might be the biggest brother, but she was the biggest sister, and... okay, she wasn't gonna sit here and delude herself into thinking that she could have physically stopped that guy if she had just moved a little faster. She wasn't a martial arts champion like the rest of them, (even if she did have a mean left hook and an even meaner softball swing.) But she hated... watching them fall apart. She hated watching all of them shrivel up under the stress. She hated that she couldn't fix this for them... Or at least make it a little easier.

And she was worried too. Mr. Hamato might not be her dad, exactly, but... this was her family, too. She had known Yoshi since she was five! She used to spend every afternoon after school at their house, and they would spend the weekends at hers. She couldn't even count how many slumber parties and sleepovers they had had over the years. Raph, Donnie, Leo, and Mikey were like her brothers, and Yoshi was, like... her weird uncle or something.

She really hoped he was okay. And that he'd be back soon.

"Nothing bad is gonna happen. They'll go to gymnastics, they'll blow off some steam, they'll come home, and maybe Leo will be less of a headache for the rest of the evening." She said with a sigh. "Maybe he's got a point! You guys aren't used to being cooped up for so long."

"I guess," Raph said, seeming unconvinced, though he leaned back a little into the cushions, slumping a bit. April would take even the littlest victory.

"You could probably use a distraction too."

"Mmm..."

"Sooo... You could paint my nails for me? I'll paint yours back." She offered, raising a brow. He had to take the bait here. This always worked. The boys loved getting their nails painted. Especially Raph, since he was so bad at doing his own. He was okay if he was working on someone else, but if it was a solo project, that right hand just never quite turned out right.

It took a moment, and for a moment April thought he might actually turn her down, but eventually, he sighed and relented. "Okay, fine," he agreed. "But Raph gets to pick the colors this time."

Thank god for small miracles. He could pick whatever color he wanted.

---

Mikey had never noticed how loud the gym was before.

Usually, it didn't bother him. But today? It was just... so much noise. Every thump of a landed flip echoing through the padded floor, reverberating, every shout, every stomp, every clap of chalk on hands... It seemed to travel right through his bones.

He was waiting for it to wear off.

Their instructor had seemed... surprised to see them, especially since they had gotten there a half-hour late, but hadn't protested or turned them away, much to Mikey's relief. Well, initially it had been relief, but now he wasn't so sure. Usually, he adored gymnastics. It was easily one of his favorite hobbies, (tied between ballet, painting, cooking, yoga, hip-hop, and skateboarding,) but there was something... off today. Every movement seemed just a beat behind reality, as if he himself were lagging somehow, like the connection was slow. His head felt fuzzy.

Every second they were here felt so odd. Everyone was just... working. Doing gymnastics. Practicing back-flips and floor routines. Mikey wanted to scream at everyone. How could they all just act like this when their dad was missing? How could they pretend like things were okay and just keep moving through life? Every person they passed on the walk here, every passenger on the subway, the receptionist at the front desk, he wanted to grab them by the front of their shirts and wail to them and explain everything.

How could people just live? How could so many people just not know that their dad was gone and might not ever come back?

Mikey had been working on his high bar routine for almost forty minutes now, and he still wasn't getting it right. Usually, this was easy. It wasn't even that hard of a routine, not compared to some of the other things he had done before. But every single time he made another go at it, he missed a beat or moved the wrong way, his brain blanking out on the next step, and he'd have to start over again, gritting his teeth and telling himself he'd get it right this time. The chalk on his hands itched. He was forming a blister. Blisters had never bothered him before.

His coach was being so patient. So sweet, repeatedly telling him it was okay, he could just try again, but it wasn't okay. He wanted to yell at her, too, that they both knew he could do better than this. But he didn't. He just thanked her and nodded his head and kept going.

Leo was over at the vault. He could see him from here. From what he could see, he was doing fine. He wasn't missing any turns or freezing up or losing his balance. He was doing great. His routine looked perfect. Why was he doing so perfect? What was wrong with him? If the problem wasn't Dad, if it wasn't affecting Leo, then it had to be--

Mikey's hand missed the bar. He never missed the bar. He didn't swing far enough and his hand didn't make contact.

He missed. He fell.

He never fell.

It didn't hurt. They had all this matting for a reason-- for exactly this reason, in fact. There wasn't even any heavy thud of contact, no wind got knocked out of him, he just flopped sadly down on his back on the padding, bouncing a tiny bit, staring up at the bars above him.

He fell down. He never fell down. He missed. He never missed the bars.

He knew he needed to get up. He should try again. If he didn't move, people would worry, or think he was hurt or something. But every time he told himself to sit up, his body didn't quite listen.

After a few minutes of staring at the ceiling, his older brother's face came into view. He had been expecting a coach. He wasn't sure if Leo was better or worse.

"Well that wasn't very razzmatazz," Leo remarked with a grin, leaning over and offering a hand to the other. "Here, c'mon. I'll help you up."

Mikey sniffled a tiny bit. His body didn't listen when he told it to grab Leo's hand, either.

"I wanna go home," he finally got his mouth to move.

"What?" Leo immediately protested. "Oh, come on, little brother, we just got here. We've still got two hours left of gym time! You love gymnastics. You're not gonna let one little fall get to you, are ya?"

"I wanna go home," Mikey repeated, because he didn't know what else to say. His voice sounded horrible. What was the matter with him? This wasn’t even what he wanted to be saying. He didn't want to talk to Leo like this. He did love gymnastics. This wasn't him! He didn't act this way. Why was he acting this way? He blinked rapidly, hoping that it would help somehow.

He didn't want to look at Leo anymore, so he didn't. But he heard him sigh. He felt the gym mat shift as Leo slowly moved to lay down next to him, until both of them were staring up at the ceiling like silly little animals stuck on their backs, unable to flip back over.

Like...

I dunno, like beetles or something.

"We can go home if you want to, Mikey," Leo said, and Mikey hiccuped softly, wrinkling up his nose.

"Sorry," he bit out. "... We c-can stay if you want. I can stay."

"Nah. It's fine. We should go home," Leo repeated, finding Mikey’s hand and squeezing it shortly. "Sorry. For dragging you out."

Mikey shook his head, sniffling a bit. Ugh, crying on your back sucked. His nose was all full of gunk.

"I like gymnastics," he said weakly, and Leo laughed.

"Yeah, I know. That's 'cause you're really good at it."

Mikey nodded kind of numbly, crossing his arms over his chest, clinging to himself slightly.

"Everyone is acting like nothing's wrong," Mikey whispered.

"Yeah," Leo sighed through his nose. "It's weird, right? I keep seeing people on the street and being like... Oh my god. They don't even know. They have no idea. And, like, I don't even know what's going on with them, either. Like. You know that lady we sat next to on the subway? I kept thinking, I dunno, maybe her dad went missing once, too, and we don't even know. How much shit do we just not know?"

"Leo, what if he doesn't come back?"

It wasn't like Leo was bad at hugs. It's just that he wasn't as good at hugs as everyone else. There was a very clear ranking, and yes, Mikey did keep track, like a reasonable person. At the very top of the ranking, obviously, was Raph. Raph gave the best hugs-- He scooped you up and swung you around and you got all squished and squeezed in the best way possible. Absolutely top-tier. Second best hugs were Dad, because, well, they were Dad Hugs. Dad Hugs had a special quality to them. He really didn't think he had to explain himself any further. Next up was Donnie, not necessarily because Donnie was good at hugging or anything, but just because he was so rarely down for hugs that every time he got one it was special. It felt like he was winning something-- especially since he got Donnie hugs more than anyone else in the family. April hugs were next, because while she gave really good hugs, and she always let him cling to her for as long as he wanted, her glasses could be a bit pokey at times. And then Leo brought in the rear-- not because he was bad at them, but just because the competition was so stiff.

But this was a really, really good hug. Two really's.

The absolute second Leo had him wrapped up in his arms, Mikey just dissolved into sobs, before he even had a proper chance to try not to. He was just so tired of feeling scared like this. If Dad wasn't going to come back, could they just know already?! He hated waiting. He hated not knowing! He just wanted to tear the band-aid off so that he could mourn and then get better. This was worse than their Dad being dead, he thought to himself. He almost wished that he was just dead, and that this could at least be over. Wasn't that horrible...? How could he feel that way?

He was pretty sure Leo was crying, too, but he couldn't really tell for sure. He was clinging way too tight to see anything.

"It'll be alright, Mikey." Leo's voice was muffled, but he could hear him all the same. "We'll be okay. Dad would never stay away from us on purpose. We'll figure it out."

---

They had been getting a lot of takeout since Dad went missing. No one really felt like cooking-- not even Mikey, and Leo couldn't even blame him. He wouldn't wanna cook, either. He barely even wanted to eat. And there was pizza in front of him. That was a big deal.

This was their third Jupiter Jim movie marathon night in a row, but Leo wasn't the least bit excited. He was trying hard to pretend like he cared about which title they put on, to keep up with all the running jokes they had, to pay attention, but his heart wasn't in it. No one else's was, either, he knew. They hadn't even been able to convince Donnie to come out of his room and join them since the first night, much to his frustration.

It was all just distraction. They were just smoke-screening themselves to pretend like everything wasn't awful, and frankly, Leo wasn't even sure who it was benefitting anymore. Clearly not Mikey. He had gotten it back together by the time they started heading home from gymnastics and had made Leo swear to secrecy, insisting that he 'didn't wanna worry anyone.' Leo had told him that that was stupid, that everyone was already worrying anyway, and pretending like he was fine wasn't gonna make a difference, but if he was being honest, he and the rest of the family rarely won any arguments against Mikey, so... 'keep it between them' it was.

It was stupid. He wasn't fooling anyone. None of them were.

And yet here he was, playing pretend right along with them anyway. He was such an idiot.

As was rapidly becoming routine, they all stayed up long enough to watch three Jupiter Jim movies while eating whatever dinner had been ordered that night before everyone headed off to bed, saying keywords and phrases like 'I dunno about you guys, but I’m exhausted' and 'it’s getting pretty late,' etc etc, even though Leo was pretty sure no one was sleeping. He certainly wasn't. And he was really trying. He swore he was, but...

Even under the best of circumstances, sleeping was hard. He had never understood how Dad or Mikey could just fall asleep the way they did, laying their heads down on their pillows and almost instantly drifting off. Sleeping involved so much work, so much effort, that sometimes it just felt easier to call the night a wash, take the all-nighter and go from there. Yes, he had tried meditating. Yes, he had tried Melatonin. He had tried sleep podcasts, white noise machines, drugs, music-- he swore he had tried it all! And none of it fixed the problem. Some of it helped, sure, but nothing consistently guaranteed him a full night's rest. Every night it was just a roll of the dice; a total blind bag. Some nights, he would sleep, and some nights, he wouldn't. It was anyone's guess.

Including his.

He wouldn't have put money on going to sleep that night. But he did.

He had no idea what made him realize that he was dreaming, but at some point, he did. He couldn't even tell you what had been happening before that point, because now, he didn't remember. Had he been outside? It had been cold. It had been dark, and there was water nearby, but he didn't think he had been outside. Somewhere else, but... He wasn't sure where.

But now, he was in their house. Right in their living room. Leo frowned a bit, looking around slowly. It was odd for their house to be this quiet.

He paused, looking at the family pictures hanging on the walls in abundance. Someone had written something on them in black marker, but he couldn't read it. It was in plain English, but he had no idea what it said. He leaned in a bit closer, narrowing his eyes, trying to translate, when a cry ripped his attention away.

"Blue!"

He knew that voice. Eyes widening, Leo whipped around to face his father-- on the ground not more than five feet away, pinned beneath some hulking stranger with jagged horns erupting from their head, their eyes glowing white and their jaws dripping with foamy blood.

"Dad?! Hang on!" He tried to jump forward, to reach out for him, but his legs wouldn't move. Why wouldn't his legs move?! His dad was right there-- right there in front of him! He could help him! He could save him, so why wasn't anything working?!

"Blue!" The same howl tore through his mind, and Leo hissed, clapping his hands over his ears as if that would help. He didn't want to watch. He didn't want to watch this creature kill his father-- he couldn't do it.

This is a dream, he reminded himself. You're dreaming. If you don’t want to watch, then you have to wake up. Wake up. Wake up now!

He could see it-- almost feel it-- his own body laid out on his bed back in the waking world, curled up on his stomach, his cheek to his pillow. He knew exactly where he was. He could see his room. He knew he was dreaming, so why couldn't he wake up? He couldn't get his body to move at all, repeatedly trying to sit up, to open his eyes, to jolt a limb to the side to no avail. The pitch of the screams shifted higher.

"Come on! Wake up already! I know you can hear me!" He cried, gritting his teeth. He knocked his fists angrily against the side of his head. "Move. We have to move!" He bit down hard on the inside of his cheek, tasting blood, and he wasn't sure if that was his dream self or his actual self. How was he supposed to tell the difference? "Move!"

Leo startled awake, his head jerking upwards and his limbs splaying outward in surprise. The entire house was quiet. Right... because it's the middle of the night. Because he was dreaming.

He had just been dreaming, and now he was awake. It was fine. He was fine.

Slowly, he sat up, running his hands through his hair with a sigh, rolling his head a few times to try to work the stiffness of his neck. He reached for his phone, knowing it would be plugged in on his nightstand, except... It wasn't there.

Leo frowned a little bit, wrinkling up his brows. His phone wasn't there. In fact, his nightstand wasn't there either. His bed wasn't even there, he realized with a start. He wasn't in his own room. He was on the floor-- the floor of-- somewhere else in the house, he guessed. How the hell did he get here? Had he sleepwalked? That was new.

He noted, vaguely, that whatever room he was in wasn't nearly as dark as he would have expected. There was this warm golden-orange glow blanketing the room like a nightlight, and Leo thought vaguely that someone must have accidentally left a desk lamp on or something, turning to take a look.

He had not been expecting to see his youngest brother floating half a foot above his own bed. Nor for him to be glowing.

#sorrywhatnowaufic #sorrywhatnowfic #sorrywhatnowau #tmnt #rottmnt #fidgetwing #fanfic #tmnt fanfic #rottmnt fanfic #tmnt human au #rottmnt human au #rise mikey #rottmnt mikey

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tangledinink · 1 year

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third chapter of I'm Sorry, Teenage Mutant What Now? is here!!! read it on ao3 or below the cut-- my tag for this au is here if you wanna lookit all the other bits and boobles ive got for this story.

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Amongst the Hamato family, there were four different languages known, to varying degrees of fluency. Quite obviously, all five of them knew English. To be fair, only Donnie and Leo were in any advanced literature classes, but that was beside the point.

The first additional language the boys learned was Japanese. Donnie remembered when he was five, their Dad offered to teach them. Many people were surprised that he managed to get four young boys interested in language lessons, but they had been so thrilled to learn to speak the same way their Dad could-- to speak the ‘Ninja Language,’ as he had pitched it back then. It's not like they had picked it up right away, but between Japanese cartoons on the TV and their Dad speaking in his native tongue at home, they all eventually got pretty good at it. Nowadays the skill was mostly used for watching anime together, keeping secrets from classmates, and making far-fetched requests from their father. He was more likely to say 'yes,' they found, if requests were made in his first language. He usually still said no anyway, but it did help! Donnie had the statistics to back it up.

The most recent language to enter the household was Spanish, and that one was all Leo and Donnie. Leo had started taking Spanish in middle school to meet a requirement, and, to the surprise of everyone except their father, who remembered how quickly he picked up languages in the past, took to it like a fish to water. He was quickly moved to advanced classes in the subject, and then later began sprinkling Spanish into his everyday vocabulary for the express purpose of showing off. Donnie couldn't allow his twin brother to outdo him in anything academic, so shortly after, he began learning Spanish as well. Quite frankly, they were probably both as fluent as they were simply because they were both so determined to be better than the other.

In between Japanese and Spanish, there was American Sign Language, and this one had been entirely for his benefit, Donnie recognized. Everyone in his family could sign. April had even learned, back when they were little. April didn't participate in his and Leo's unspoken Spanish competition, despite Donatello's numerous invitations, and she didn't know more than a few simple words of Japanese that she had picked up over time. But she was fluent in sign language.

Nowadays, Donnie considered himself quite eloquent, actually, and his entire family could certainly tell you that it could be hard to get him to shut up sometimes once he got started. But that hadn't always been the case.

Look. Talking was... hard sometimes. It was a difficult concept to explain to someone who didn't get it . It wasn't like he hadn't known how to talk, or he didn't understand language. The words were there, at least, they were in his head. He always knew exactly what he would say, if he could, always had thoughts and feelings on every situation he walked through as a child. But when he tried to speak, a lot of the time, the words just wouldn't make it out. They'd be gobbled up in his throat-- caught up in a traffic jam and clumped together in this thick, sticky glob that he couldn't swallow around, making his entire head feel all warm and fuzzy.

So usually, he just didn't try.

He could do short sentences and key phrases by the time he was four, most of them echoes of phrases he had heard in the past, but he could still remember how he would go weeks without saying a word. To be fair, when he was little, it wasn't like he was averse to sitting by himself and playing alone or reading. He still wasn’t, actually! He kind of preferred it at times. And it wasn't like he and his family didn't communicate. His brothers never really seemed too worried about the fact that Donnie didn't talk, (though he could tell even then that his Dad was,) and nods, gestures, or noises were usually enough to get the basic point across. His twin was especially good at interpreting the various clicks and trills and squeaks that he was inclined to make at that age.

But it could be... frustrating, to put it lightly. There were so many things in his head all the time, and he had nowhere to put them. If someone didn't understand what he was trying to tell them, he didn't have any other options to turn to. Chirping didn't work? Neither did pointing? Well, guess what, we've exhausted all possible choices. Cowabummer.

Yeah. It was... admittedly, the source of more than a couple of meltdowns.

Things had changed when they moved to New York.

His memories from back then were pretty fuzzy, and Donatello was pretty sure that there were more than a couple that were fabricated or exaggerated, but he remembered when they moved-- at least parts of it. He was sure his father did, too. Because at first, Donnie had hated it.

---

Yoshi muttered a few curses in Japanese under his breath, hunched over the kitchen counter and scribbling furiously in his planner. He swore he must be forgetting something, but everything seemed accounted for. Get the kids to school, meeting with his lawyers, conference call after that, he had to talk to his agent, still, there was that parenting class, then he had to pick the kids back up. The renovation guy should be around this afternoon so he could finally corner him-- wait, had he actually submitted that paperwork to the city this time, or had he forgotten again--?

The chaos in his schedule was reflected in his home, his four children loudly chasing each other around the living room in various states of dress and disarray, playing some game or another and most definitely not getting ready for school. Yoshi sighed softly, rubbing his temples. Right... first things first. Get the kids to school. Then tackle the rest.

"Red! Help your little brother put his shoes on, please." He instructed primly, raising his voice to be heard over the racket. To his credit, Raph perked up and responded immediately, grabbing Mikey's hand and dragging him off to help wrestle his sneakers on. "Leo, I laid out your clothes on your bed. These are not it. Go and change."

"This outfit is better!" Leonardo defended, gesturing proudly to his swim trunks and dress pants, layered over top of each other on his stubby legs. Shirt not included.

"Tomorrow, we can pick an outfit together. Today, you will-- Purple!!! "

He was mid-lecture with one twin when he spotted the other out of the corner of his eyes, having planted themselves in front of the hallway mirror, Sharpie marker in their hand and poised to begin writing on their own face. Yoshi managed to pull the pen from his grip just in the nick of time, though he nearly fell on the floor in doing so. Not a good back feel.

"We do not write on our faces with markers, Purple." He explained, and even he could hear how exhausted his own voice was. This was only their first week of school. He already got enough looks as it was, he could not show up to kindergarten with one of his children's faces having been Sharpied- -

Donatello stared up at him with wide eyes, blinking slowly from behind his glasses. His lower lip wobbled slightly, and, after a moment, he pointed at his own eyebrows with both hands, tapping a few times.

Yoshi sighed softly, rubbing the bridge of his nose. Right. Of course. This thing Donnie had started doing several months ago, though he still had no idea why-- Drawing eyebrows onto his mask each morning.

"My son." He said slowly. "You already have eyebrows."

Donnie stared at him.

And then promptly started to sob.

Yoshi's heart clenched. "Donatello--"

His son plopped down onto his butt on the floor and screamed. Ah, one of those, then. His sympathy didn't leave, but he would admit, a thread of exasperation did join it. This was the last thing he needed right now.

"Okay! Okay, alright, fine. We will get you your eyebrows, Donatello. You will have proper eyebrows." He tried to soothe. Donatello's screaming lessened slightly, but the tears didn't stop, hiccuping and taking deep, heaving breaths that shuddered his entire frame. Yoshi took the chance to spit out some quick instructions to his remaining children. "Leonardo, go get dressed, now, and put your shoes on. Raph, Mikey, grab you and your brother's bags, let's go."

"Come on, Purple. Get up. Come on." He slowly eased the child to his feet, and Donnie, in response, latched onto his father's arm and refused to let him go, his bottom lip still trembling, tears and snot dripping down his face. Okay, sure, fine. He could carry him. His purplest child didn’t care for being touched except for when he did , he had found over the years. "It is okay. We are getting eyebrows..."

He didn't bother with getting shoes or socks onto him, just shoved them into his purple backpack to deal with later and gathered up his remaining sons, and got them out the door. Halfway down the street, he realized he forgot his phone on the kitchen counter, went back, retrieved it, and then left a second time. And the five of them made their way across and down the block to CVS.

With a short order to his eldest to keep an eye on Mikey and for them not to leave the aisle, he made his way down the make-up section. Balancing a teary-faced and barefooted Donatello on his hip he picked his way through the various products and displays until he found what he was looking for.

Eyebrow pencils.

Selecting one in an appropriate shade, (he was an actor, do you think he doesn't know make-up?) he quietly held it out to his son.

"Here. Will this work?"

Donatello took the pencil into his hands, turning it over a few times. He glanced up at his father again, tapping on his eyebrows once more.

"Yes. You can draw on your eyebrows with this."

He stayed quiet for a bit longer, and then he nodded. Thank god.

"Good. Here, sit, and I will put on your shoes, okay?"

Donnie nodded again, and Yoshi kneeled down, setting his child down on the linoleum floor and digging his socks and shoes out of his bag. Slowly, he rolled his socks onto his feet, one at a time, and then got his shoes onto his feet as well, velcroing them tightly the way he knew his son preferred. Donnie watched him silently as he did so. Once he was done, he picked himself up off the floor, and then picked Donnie back up as well, holding him up so he could see himself in one of the little mirrors they had tacked up on the product displays.

"Can you see?" He asked softly.

Donnie nodded a tiny bit, examining himself in the mirror for a moment before he got to work, very slowly and purposefully filling in each brow, his nose scrunched up with focus.

Yoshi let out a breath he didn't realize he had been holding. For a little while, he just let them be quiet. In the background, he could hear Leo, Mikey, and Raph chattering about something or another, stacking up shampoo bottles in the aisle like bowling pins. At least they were being quiet.

"Donatello."

Donnie hummed softly in response, not pausing in his task.

"I know that things have been very different lately. And you don't like it very much when things change."

Donnie nodded slightly.

"And I know that you want to go home. But this is our home now, my son. You will get used to it. I promise."

Donnie frowned slightly, moving one hand to tap at the side of his head, tugging on his ears.

"Yes, it is louder up here sometimes, isn't it?" He sighed. "... I know you don't like the traffic or the crowds very much. Or when the renovators work on the apartment."

Donnie shook his head fervently, his frown deepening.

"I know. I know, my son. But I promise it is temporary. And soon we will have a very wonderful new home."

He knew his kid wasn't quite convinced.

"There are many things to love about the city, Donnie. Like school. You like school, don't you?"

Donnie shrugged a bit, looking down at his feet. He had been so excited when he came home the first day, but Yoshi could tell that his enthusiasm was waning over time as things became more and more overwhelming.

Yoshi sighed softly. "We will work on it." He assured. He paused a moment, hesitating just long enough to convince himself that he actually did believe the next sentence out of his mouth. "I wouldn't have brought us here if I didn't believe it was truly for the best. This is the best place for our family, Donnie. Including you. Can you please trust me?"

It took a bit, but eventually, he nodded in response.

At least that was a start.

"This weekend," He began, slowly, because he still wasn't entirely sure about this. Was it too soon? Would it be too much for him? But God knew he could use the help-- "I'd like for us to go meet some people together. Just the two of us. I've been speaking with some folks who'd like to talk to you," he explained. Donnie stared him down, and Yoshi internally scrambled a bit, because he always struggled a bit with Donnie. He was five, but he was so goddamn smart, he was never completely sure how much he should or should not try to explain things at times like these...

"They're doctors." He continued. "But different from Dr. Davis. I promise no shots or touching. Just talking. Can we do that?"

Eventually, Donatello nodded, and Yoshi's shoulders sagged slightly with relief.

"Okay." He said. "Are your eyebrows done?" A nod. "Can I put you back down?" Another nod, and Yoshi set Donatello back down on the floor, who went to go fetch his backpack and wrestle it onto his back.

"Boys! Come on. Put those away, it's time to go." He said, turning to begin to round up his other sons.

"Already!?" Mikey cried.

"But we didn't get anything!" Leo protested.

"I've already got--"

"How come Donnie gets something and not us?!"

"No fair!"

"I want something too!"

"Dad! I want a pencil too!"

Oh for God's sake. Yoshi sighed deeply, tilting his head back, staring up at the ceiling for several moments, questioning the course of his life.

"Fine. You may each get one item from this aisle. You have five minutes. Go. And if there is any fighting, you will not get anything ." He warned, and the three remaining children squealed, racing down the make-up aisle to pick out their prizes.

They were definitely going to be late to school this morning.

---

Nowadays, with years of speech therapy and social skills group and therapy behind him, Donnie found talking to be easy. Non-verbal episodes were relatively infrequent and short-lived, and even then, he and his family could always sign with each other instead. Even if he was still verbal, he and his brothers still signed often.

Whenever words were difficult, it was just easier to sign instead.

Donnie had opened his mouth and closed it about five times now, considering what he wanted to say and how he wanted to say it in between packing up his bag, having already changed out of his Gi and back into street clothes. Eventually, he just decided to use his hands.

'Is something going on with Dad?'

Mikey paused, looking up from his own duffle bag, tilting his head to the side slightly.

"What? Why?"

'Didn't he seem weird to you today?'

"Well..."

"He's kinda got a point." Leo hummed from the nearby locker room bench, lacing up his sneakers. "He's been out of it all weekend."

'Ever since Mikey lit his room on fire.' Donnie corrected, and Mikey bristled in defense.

"I told you I didn't set my room--!"

"Hey." Raph interrupted, frowning a bit, before he slipped into ASL as well, his bag already packed and his hands free. ' Maybe it just spooked him. You know how he worries.'

'Not like this.' Donnie protested, wrinkling up his nose a bit. ' Every time I looked at him the entire tournament, he was just staring off into nothing. He's never like that unless re-runs of Baywatch are on.'

"Maybe he's tired," Leo suggested. "I don't think he's really been sleeping that much. Have you seen the bags under his eyes? Plus, I caught him up in the living room the other night going through some papers or whatever at, like... three in the morning."

"And what were you doing up at three in the morning?" Mikey asked dryly, not looking up from the zipper he was trying to muscle shut.

"Hey. Look. This isn't about me. This is about Dad." Leo said quickly, getting to his feet and slinging his duffle over his shoulder, beginning to sign once he had the hands to do so. No point in risking anyone overhearing them when they didn't have to... plus, he knew Donnie liked when they all signed instead of mismatching. 'But what are we supposed to do anyway? Confront him? You know he won't talk to us about it. He's, like, the king of weird spooky secrets.'

Donnie frowned a bit, shrugging. He was loathe to admit it, but Leo did have a point. Their Dad hated to talk about himself or his past outside of trivia about his acting career. Donnie had tried to ask him about their extended family once, and he had just totally shut down. He wouldn't even tell them what his parents' names were. And the four of them had always tried to respect that. I mean... they knew it was all really complicated. I mean, jesus, he had basically been kidnapped and presumed dead for, like, twelve years. That had to be traumatic, right?

Most of what Donnie knew, factually, about their move to New York, he had gotten from old magazine articles and talk show segments that he found online later in life. He knew what all the reports and stuff said, sure, about the abusive ex, (their mom, he thought dimly in the back of his mind, whose face he couldn't even remember,) the going into hiding, the forced isolation. But none of them had ever talked about it. He had been really little back then, so he couldn't really remember very much. His memories were more just general feelings or ideas rather than any actual events. He remembered playing pretend games with his brothers more than anything else. He used to think that that was odd, because he had never been much of a 'pretend' kid as compared to his siblings growing up, but his therapist noted that it was common for small children to use fantasy or make-believe to 'escape' from bad situations or explain away trauma. So he supposed maybe that was it.

He remembered it being dark most of the time. And he remembered his feet being cold a lot. There was this sound that he heard in his head a lot when he thought of it, but he had no idea what it was. Shhhh shhhhh.

But that was about it. He and his brothers, in turn, didn't really talk about it amongst each other either, or with other people. It just felt... weird. Or wrong, somehow, he supposed? Whatever.

'Maybe he's just having a bad week or something,' Raph shrugged. 'Or it's just one of his things. I know you wanna help, but maybe we should just mind our business. Let him work it out.'

'We could just ask.' Mikey's hands were free now, too. 'We're his family! I'm sure he'd at least appreciate knowing we care! Even if he doesn't wanna talk about it.'

Leo wrinkled his nose a bit. 'Okay, fine. How about this? If he's still being weird by the time we get back from the swim meet on Wednesday, then we'll ask,' he suggested, a hand on his hip.

'Sounds like a plan.' Raph confirmed, nodding a bit. 'Until then, everyone better be on their best behavior! The last thing we need is to stress Pops out even more! No skipping classes. No fights. No explosions or fire of any kind. '

Donnie wasn't going to lie, there was something kind of satisfying about sharing Raph's pointed look with Mikey. His littlest brother was absolutely scowling, glaring at his oldest brother's back as they filed out of the locker room to go find their dad, weaving past the crowds of other competitors and parents as they went.

At some point, Leo fell into step beside him. His twin brother tilted his head at him slightly, one brow raised.

'You good?'

Donnie nodded a little, conjuring up his voice again to reassure the other.

"I'm fine. Not nonverbal. Just worried about Dad." He explained shortly, and Leo's stance relaxed slightly.

"Okay, cool. Just checking, Hermano." He hummed. "... I mean, I was a little worried that my incredibly awesome ninjocity today was so brilliant and amazing that you were just too shocked to speak, or something. Did you notice, by the way? That I took first place in the lightweight category? What place did you take again? Just wondering."

Donnie rolled his eyes, looking down his nose at the other and pursing his lips. "Right. Also, unrelated, which one of us was victorious at that gymnastics meet on Friday? I'm having a bit of difficulty recalling, dear brother, perhaps you could help jog my memory..."

"Psh! Please, that's in the past , Donnie. You've gotta live in the now . And right now, I won, and you lost, and everyone should appreciate how amazing I did, and also the fact that I totally kicked your ass! God , tournaments are the best. It’s the only place where I’m legally allowed to kick you in the head."

“And what about the rest of the time? When you kick me in the head anyway?”

“Be gay do crime, Donnie,” Leo said with a shrug. “Also, it’s usually revenge for you kicking me in the head.”

“Fair enough.”

---

With how much Donatello had fidgeted with them at first, Yoshi had been a bit afraid that he wouldn’t be willing to wear the headphones, or that they’d do more damage than they helped… but he seemed to have finally adjusted, his arms hanging limply at his side.

And Yoshi was starting to think that the people at the Counseling and Testing Center were on to something. Because his son wasn’t flinching or fidgeting, wasn’t pulling at his ears or whining or scrunching up his face.

This was the calmest he had seen him in weeks.

Thank god.

A part of him was thinking, how in the world had he never thought of this before? But most of him was just relieved to see his child without any discomfort or pain. Waving to him slightly to get his attention, he offered his hand to Donnie, and they took it immediately, clinging on fast to their dad’s fingers.

“Ready?” He questioned, making sure he was loud enough that Donatello could hear him through the noise-canceling headphones.

Donnie nodded firmly, and so off they went.

Yoshi felt a bit bad for taking Donatello out on his own for the second weekend in a row, leaving his other sons behind with a babysitter, but quite frankly, he felt like the purple one deserved it. He would simply have to arrange one-on-one time for the others later to make up for it. Today was for Donnie.

If he was ever going to adjust, he needed to have things to love about the city. Proper things.

Every step of their journey out of the apartment, Yoshi was impressed over and over with his child. With his headphones on and his dad’s hand held tight, he faced the city streets, the traffic, and the crowds alike bravely. When they made their way down to the subway, he stayed close to his father the entire time, not wandering off or straying. On the train, he sat quietly with his book in his lap, flapping his hands as he read. And when a woman with, quite frankly, far too much perfume boarded the subway, he pulled on his dad’s sleeves until he understood so they could move to a different train car.

The whole way to Manhattan, Yoshi was proud.

They eventually approached their destination, and honestly, it took a bit longer than he had expected it to because Donnie kept wanting to stop and examine things. He stopped to investigate the relief out front of the lions, and the sculpture of Theodore Roosevelt and his horse. He was fascinated by the many tiers of stairs leading up to the building, as well as the four massive columns framing the main entrance. He dragged his feet through the line for tickets, rubbing his hands up and down the velvet ropes, a tiny smile on his face the entire time as he explored the texture with his fingertips.

But it was fine. The day was for him, and it was nice to get to see him enjoy everything properly now that he wasn’t quite so overwhelmed. And it was worth the wait, because when he finally managed to herd Donatello to his end goal, he was rewarded with the most overjoyed, elated squeal he had ever heard out of his child as he took in the glory of the American Museum of Natural History’s space exhibit.

Yoshi chuckled softly, hurrying his pace a bit to keep up with them as they darted forward to the nearest model and plaque to begin reading.

“Dad!” He shrieked excitedly, turning around just long enough to make sure his father was still behind him, pointing excitedly up at the diagram in front of him, scaled replicas of their galaxy’s planets hanging overhead. Donatello kept looking up, and then back down, and then up again, and back down, like he was too thrilled to decide what he wanted to look at first.

‘Universe. Galaxies. Stars. Planets.’ the diagram read.

“Yes, I know. Do you like it?”

Donnie nodded so hard, his headphones nearly fell off.

“I was hoping you would.”

‘The observable universe contains as many as 100 billion galaxies and extends billions of light years in every direction.’

“I had a feeling you would enjoy museums.” Yoshi continued, squatting down so he could be on the same level as the five-year-old. “And we have all day to explore the entire place if you’d like. It’s quite big.”

Donnie’s eyes widened a bit, as though it had just sunk in that there was more still to see.

“Don’t worry, my son. We can come back as many times as you’d like.” Yoshi assured. “And when we’re finished with this one, there are lots of others. Libraries, too. All sorts of things I think you’ll like. And we have plenty of time to see all of them.”

‘What is the Universe? The universe is all the matter, energy, and space that exists. We can observe only a part of it— the observable universe. The entire universe, including the part we cannot see, may be infinite.’

[ next chapter ]

#sorrywhatnowaufic #sorrywhatnowau #sorrywhatnowfic #tmnt #rottmnt #tmnt human au #fidgetwing #rise donnie #rottmnt donnie

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