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At first, Raph doesn’t notice the extended passage of time.
It’s only when, three hours over the expected time for the twins to return from their pizza run, that he realises that something had gone badly wrong. It isn’t uncommon for Donnie and Leo to get dangerously sidetracked every time they went out together, alone. Whether it be Leo encouraging Donnie to perform drastic dares (that the soft shell never backs out of, and so begins the game of dares that lasts at least three days before one of them gets too injured to continue), or Donnie wanting to commit several crimes that Leo is all too eager to be a cheerleader for (and, when Raph scolds Leo for encouraging their slightly unhinged brother again, Leo always shrugs and states “be gay, do crime” and Raph can’t even argue without Leo then screeching that he’s “homophobic, I can’t believe you don’t support me and my gay endeavours”), the trips end up being at least an hour over what is an expected time limit, often returning with several other items that somehow wound up in their grasp.
Trip to the junkyard for twenty minutes? An hour later they return covered in war paint with sirens wailing in the background as they slip down the sewer with maddened screeches of laughter. Visiting April for an hour? Two hours after their expected arrival Donnie shows up with Leo slung over his shoulder wearing old women’s clothes, Donnie revving a chainsaw in his other hand and Leo munching on a slice of watermelon in the most depressed manner possible.
Raph curses his middle siblings for being so wildly unpredictable together, hence the name “disaster twins” fits into place. The snapper knows better to send them out alone with no supervision, but he really didn’t have a choice. He had been busy aiding in some heavy lifting for Splinter – his dad had finally managed to replace some of the crumbling furniture in the lair – and Mikey certainly didn’t count as supervision but rather a catalyst for any mischief, having a tendency to amp up any situation way beyond what it should be just by being in close proximity. Sure, Raph could have send either Donnie or Leo alone, but that would mean, if something bad were to happen, they would have no help. Also Donnie had a nasty habit of, if given the correct bribery, jumping into stranger’s vans and waiting to see what would happen.
Take “The Car Incident” for example. Mikey had told him that, with only one compliment about Donnie’s intellect, the soft shell had willingly entered a demolition derby. An hour alone on the street and Donnie would be found creating missiles for The Foot Clan because they promised to give him uranium afterwards.
Sending Leo alone wouldn’t be too bad if the slider didn’t seem to get involved with what he referred to as “side quests” every time he stepped outside of the sewers. Most people, when asked whether they would traverse the Hidden City to help find a random item from a stranger would say no, but Leo would always say yes, guns blazing and already charging towards danger. He would throw on a terrible disguise and would be found half way across New York within the first twenty minutes, getting chased down by whatever group he managed to piss off in his goal, brandishing a flag in the air with a grin on his face.
At least, when they were together, Donnie and Leo completed the task given to them within a reasonable passage of time, even at the expense of moral ambiguity. At least, that had been Raph’s reasoning three hours ago.
Now, the snapper realises he may have been gravely mistaken.
“Mikey?” Raph wanders into the main living room and spots the box turtle swinging at what must have been at least thirty feet in the air. He is painting his claws a bright yellow, looking down to Raph when his name is called. The loss of focus causes the pot of varnish, which had been balancing on his chin, to clatter to the ground with a sad splat.
“Cowabummer.” Mikey says after a moment of silence staring at the deceased bottle.
“Don and Leo are still out.” Raph says. Mikey twists curiously, brow furrowing.
“Still? Not even a frantic phone call asking to bail them out of prison?” The box turtle drops down, landing on Raph’s shell with ease. He crouches like a feral cat, tilting his head when Raph nods.
“Nothin’. Raph’s getting worried.” The snapper admits. Mikey pats him on the head, making him smile.
“There’s nothing to be worried about! They’re probably too caught up in another dare, like the time Leo dared Donnie to try and start another world war.” The box turtle hops off his shell and follows Raph as they make their way to the exit of the sewer. “We can find them and then yell at them for allowing the pizza to go cold, again.”
Raph chuckles, some of the unease leaving him as they stop at the ladder.
“Yeah, you’re right.” Raph catches the slight murderous glint in Mikey’s eye and attempts to make peace. “Please don’t tie them to the ceiling again if the pizza is cold, alright big man?”
Mikey’s smile stretches dangerously.
“Dr Delicate Touch will be having words, trust me.”
Raph opens his mouth but realises he really can’t save Donnie and Leo’s asses from this one, and hopes for their own safety that the pizza isn’t cold – that is, if they aren’t in trouble with an enemy.
Raph climbs up the ladder first as it is easier for him to push off the manhole cover. Cautiously, he lifts the metal up and blinks in surprise as a cascade of rain blows in his face.
It’s raining hard, almost a storm.
Suddenly, everything clicks into place. Why the twins have been gone so long, and why they haven’t had a phone call. They aren’t fighting for their lives, and they aren’t committing small acts of terrorism out of boredom. The answer is much more simple.
It is raining.
Leo and Donnie love rain.
Being aquatic turtles, it had been pretty clear since they were tots that the twins adored rain – the heavier the downpour the better. It stemmed from their “natural enjoyment of water”, as Donnie had put it one day after Leo had lay down in a particularly deep puddle with a low churr.
Rainy days such as this one caused them to lean more towards their instincts, losing track of time.
Raph fully exits the hole, taking a moment to close his eyes as the rain ran down his scales. His tail wags lazily, creating ripples in the puddle he is partially standing in.
Raph is also an aquatic turtle. He also has a weakness for rain.
“What’s the hold up – oh.” Realisation dawns on Mikey’s face as he feels the drops hit his shell. He pulls the manhole cover closed after he emerges. “This explains why Leo and Dee have been out so long.”
Raph opens his eyes. Leo and Donnie. Right.
Once he ensures that his brothers are safe and not doing anything stupid, he will happily relax in a puddle. For now, he needs to get moving.
The snapper turns to the youngest, who looks uncomfortable and slightly annoyed at the rain soaking him. Out of all of the brothers, Mikey has never really been a fan of water, which baffles Raph. The box turtle looks like an angry, wet kitten as he pouts at the rain washing the paint from his shell.
“Shit.” Mikey watches the colours run down his legs and onto the ground, making a colourful puddle underneath him. Despite the rain relaxing him, Raph growls at Mikey’s curse. Mikey only raises a brow.
“I think you would be mad enough to curse if your artwork was washed away into a gutter.” His brother sassily replies.
“Okay, okay. Let’s just get on with finding Leo and Donnie.” Raph relents.
Raph leads, walking down the street at a steady pace. Mikey is like a shadow beside him, constantly scurrying to different areas of shelter to avoid getting wet – overhanging store signs, underneath ledges, unoccupied bus stops – taking full advantage of the fact no human is insane enough to go out in this weather in the middle of the night. Raph watches him out of the corner of his eye in slight amusement, but also confusion.
Again, he can’t understand not enjoying the rain.
Surprisingly, it doesn’t take long to actually locate Leo, at least. His happy squeaks and chirps echo loudly down the street when they turn a corner, acting like a beacon.
Turning another corner towards the sound, he finally spots the slider lying in a deep puddle under a street lamp. Raph smiles softly at the sight of him, his worry evaporating on the spot as sees how happy his brother is in the rain.
Leo has his eyes closed, facing towards the sky and letting the droplets run down his face and neck. All of his gear – mask, medic pouch and weapons – lie beside the puddle in a scattered pile. The churrs, chirps, squeaks and purrs of happiness are continuous, rolling off each other as a smile lazily rests on his face. Mikey returns a coo of his own as instinct, and Raph lets out a loud chirp that prompts Leo to open one eye.
“Hey there, little guy. Having fun?” Raph asks. Leo lets out a happy squeak, shifting slightly in the water.
Mikey hums, looking around.
“Where’s Donnie – whoa!” His question is interrupted when a purple and green streak rushes past him with a small chirp. Raph looks up and struggles to track Donnie’s movement as he dashes across the street and up buildings. The soft shell, when he runs close enough, can be heard making short chirps and growls as he dashes and darts. Mikey steps back again as Donnie runs back towards them, leaping over Leo as he does so.
Okay. Raph knows how to deal with this too.
Donnie, when faced with water, would revert back to something Mikey had affectionately called “Turtle Zoomies”. When they had first visited a swimming pool (and all subsequent visits after), Donnie would become seemingly feral with energy. He was only a green streak when he swims, cutting through the water with deadly accuracy and speed. In the rain, they had quickly discovered that this behaviour was echoed, resulting in Donnie racing around the area he was in like a wound up puppy, and thus the name “Turtle Zoomies” had been dubbed for this situation.
And, thankfully, they had a solution before Donnie would start to bite them.
“Mikey!” Raph calls. Mikey straightens up from his slouch, knowing the tone of voice. “Turtle Zoomies!”
“On it!” Mikey yells back and immediately springs into action. The box turtle, always with an ungodly amount of energy of his own, runs up towards Donnie and shrieks “TAG” as he prods the soft shell’s arm.
The response is immediate.
Donnie rebounds off the wall next to him and begins to now chase the youngest, who had already darted away. Raph watches from beside Leo as the two brothers play the most dangerous and insane game of tag he’s ever witnessed; leaping across buildings and weaving through alleyways at incredible speeds, darting back and fourth with Donnie letting out strings of chirps as they play.
With a huff, Raph settles in the large puddle next to Leo. The rainwater sloshes against his scales, submerging the tip of his tail as it swishes back and fourth. The small waves in the water make Leo’s smile stretch wider. It’s enough to allow the release of the purr Raph had been swallowing down.
Still, he knew it would end soon; Mikey and (perhaps) Donnie would run out of energy. The box turtle isn’t fond of rain in the first place, so it would be unfair to make him stay in it for longer than necessary.
Raph watches in amusement as Donnie tags Mikey, then scurries up a building with his eyes shining. Mikey’s laughter follows as he uses his chains to pull himself up faster and almost manages to tag Donnie back. Instead, Donnie leaps towards Mikey, uses his shell as a springboard to the next building with a loud churr before zooming further down the street.
“Cheater!” Mikey yells, quickly regaining his balance and dashing after him. Donnie almost goads him, snapping his teeth and growling lightly as he jumps again onto another building.
Raph’s purrs grow louder and he leans back. His hand grazes wet cardboard and looks over to find a very crushed, sad looking pizza box with wet pizza peaking through the gap.
“Mikey’s gonna kill you for ruining the pizza, you know that?” He says, pushing it out of the way and closing his eyes.
Leo chirps, the meaning clear through the tone.
Don’t worry. All good.
Rain falls heavily, drumming against his spiked scales and shell. Raph pulls his mask off and leans his head upwards, humming as the water flows down his face. He responds to Leo’s chirp with a low churr of his own. Leo presses close to him.
Love. Protect.
Maybe they could stay out for another hour.
(They do, but eventually Mikey finds the wet pizza and rips into Leo and Donnie until they hide behind Raph’s bulky shell. They all salute the pizza as it washes down the drain, a tragic end to its miserable life.)