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                                  Chapter one 
April pov
It’s been a month since the Krang invasion, and in a way, nothing has been the same. The dust settled long ago, but the shadows it left behind are still suffocating us.

​Leo spent months confined to his bed, his body a map of healing fractures. But the physical wounds weren't the worst part. Now, he’s terrified of the dark and even more afraid of the silence. If the room goes quiet, you can see the panic rising in his chest—he needs noise, light, anything to prove he’s still here and not back in that void.

​Raph wears the war on his face. His left eye is a milky, clouded white, framed by deep scars from when he tore the Krang’s influence away. He’s different now—angrier, more reclusive. He struggles with the blind spot in his vision, never quite sure if a flicker of movement is a real threat or just a ghost. He still hears them, too. The Krang’s voices haven't fully left his head, whispering to him in the static.

​Mikey’s hands were bruised for the longest time, trembling so violently he had to relearn how to hold a pencil, a spatula, and a weapon.
He’s regained some control, but the moment he gets anxious, the tremors return—a physical reminder of the power that nearly tore him apart.

​Donnie and I have been doing our best to hold the pieces together. He’s barely left Leo’s side; I think the trauma of almost losing his twin cracked something deep inside him. Between grueling physical therapy sessions with Leo and Mikey, Donnie has been building tech to help Raph navigate his new blind spots. Even Baron Draxum has stepped up—Mikey’s influence must have finally reached him. He spends his days in the lab with Donnie, while Splinter, Cassie and I focus on the boys.

​Splinter is a ghost of himself. He’s there, and he helps, but the light in his eyes is dim. He looks at his sons like he’s still mourning them.
​Because of that, Donnie has been "holding down the fort" to a dangerous degree. He hasn't slept in days.
He’s obsessed with our safety, layering the sewers in defensive systems and motion sensors. He’s turned our home into a fortress, watching the screens of New York’s activity until his eyes go red, terrified that if he blinks, he’ll lose them all over again.

I have been doing my best help him too Donnie and I have always been close out of all his bothers he has always been my best friend he opened up to me, he confides recently I have been dragging him to bed to rest, he would open up to me about how stressful the situations is for him.

One night, while I was practically dragging him toward his bed, he finally snapped.
​"Donnie! You need sleep," I hissed, catching him by the arm. "You’ve been up for days. Stop being so difficult!"
​"I CAN’T SLEEP, APRIL!"
​The shout echoed through the lab, leaving a ringing silence in its wake. I stared at him in stunned disbelief. Donnie never usually raised his voice like that—not at me.
​"I just can't," he whispered, his voice cracking as the adrenaline died out.

"My brothers need me. And I... I just keep thinking that if I can’t help them recover, then what good am I? I was the first one knocked out in the fight. Because of my failure, I dragged Raph and Mikey down with me, leaving Leo all alone."
​He began to pace, his hands twitching at his sides.
"I keep thinking about the what-ifs. What if my escape pods had been faster? Maybe they wouldn't have been able to take Raph. What if my security had been better? They never would have broken into our home."
​"Donnie..." I said softly. I reached out, cupping his cheeks in my hands. He immediately recoiled slightly, then slumped into the touch, hugging himself tightly.
​"I’m the only one who didn't get hurt, April," he choked out, tears finally spilling over and tracing paths through the grime on his face. "If I can’t fix them, then what am I even for?"
​I stepped closer, wiping a tear away with my thumb. "You’re doing everything you can. But you keep forgetting that you aren't in this alone. We’re here for you, just like you’re here for them."
​I pulled him into a hug.

The guys always thought Donnie hated physical touch, but the truth was more complicated. He didn't mind it; he was just easily overstimulated, especially when his brothers were being rough. But right now, he needed the anchor.
​He collapsed into me, burying his head on my shoulder. "My brain won't let me sleep," he confessed, his voice muffled. "It’s on overdrive. I can’t stop the overthinking. And when I close my eyes... I see the portal. I see us failing to save Leo in time. What would I do without him, April? He’s my other half."
​"I know," I whispered, holding him tighter, shielding him from the rest of the world. "But he’s here. Right now. That’s what matters."
​After that night, Donnie changed. He started seeking out affection more often. Sometimes I’d find him curled up at the foot of Leo’s bed, just like they used to sleep when they were little. Other times, he’d just lean into me and stay there for a long moment, recharging.

​Whenever Casey saw it, he’d get this look—a strange, knowing shadow in his eyes. He still refused to tell us anything specific about his timeline, especially after Donnie warned him about the Butterfly Effect. But looking at Casey’s face, I couldn't help but wonder if, in his future, Donnie never got the hug he needed.
Slowly things started getting better leo was getting out of bed and moving more though everything his been tho he never stopped making jokes, making light of things, making everyone laugh and bring everyone spirits up especially Donnie when Donnie would go to sleep by his side Leo would just make room for him, they would cuddle just like they did when they were kids and talk about what's bothering them,
Raph and Mickey starting training using their new found weaknesses when Raph and mickey had time and Splinter would help him with training and would even have him do some mediation but Raph never did that for long tho.

Cassie and I have been spending time together I have been showing him around the city his happy to do anything with anyone he is so sweet, his been fascinated by everything he sees say stuff like “ I have never seen so may bussing that were not destroyed, oh wow this is working well” and try new foods I been trying to get him and Cassandra on meet up but he was been hesitant he said he was very little the last time he saw her so he wishes to take his time.

Present Day: One Year Since the Invasion

​"Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday dear Leo and Donnie... Happy birthday to you!"
​The kitchen was a chaos of noise and color. We were all crowded around the table, the light of sixteen candles flickering against the walls. Mikey had outdone himself, presenting two separate, towering cakes. As the song ended, the room exploded into a chorus of "Blow them out!" and "Make a wish!" and Raph’s rhythmic chanting of "We want cake! We want cake!"
​The twins shared a look—one of those silent telepathic moments only they have—and blew their candles out in a single, synchronized puff. The room erupted in cheers, but as the night wore on and the sugar high faded, the birthday boys vanished.
​Leo had slipped away to some quiet corner of the lair, and Donnie, predictably, had retreated to his lab.
​I sighed, shaking my head. What am I going to do
with these two? I headed for the lab and knocked. Donnie spun around so fast he looked like a puppy caught chewing on a shoe. He looked guilty, frantic, and exhausted all at once.
​Over the last year, Donnie had started to confide in me more. He talked to Leo, sure, but never about his deepest insecurities or the dreams that kept him awake. With Leo, it was always "twin stuff"—fear of loss and shared trauma. With me, he let the mask slip.

​"What’s wrong?" I asked, walking toward his desk. I leaned over his shoulder, checking the monitors.

​"Nothing! I’m just... working on a software update for the Turtle Tank," he said, his fingers flying across the keys in a way that looked more like a nervous habit than actual coding. "You know how I like to tweak things."
​I didn't budge. "Funny. I thought if you were working on the tank, you’d be in the garage, not tucked away in here staring at security logs. Try again, Dee. What’s wrong?"
​Donnie let out a long, heavy sigh and slumped in his chair. "I was looking at the cakes," he admitted quietly. "I remember when we used to hate sharing. We fought for years to have our own cakes, our own things... but tonight, I just kept thinking that if I had actually lost him, it would only be my birthday. And suddenly, I didn't want my own cake anymore."
​He looked up at me, his eyes glassy. "It sounds dumb, I know. It’s been a year. But I’ve been feeling so lonely lately. If I didn't have Leo, I think the silence would swallow me whole."

​I reached out, turning his chair around so he had to face me. I cupped his face in both hands, my thumbs brushing over his cheeks. "You have me," I said firmly. "You have your brothers. You have your dad... and you even have Baron Draxum."
​Donnie actually let out a dry laugh at that. I knew having the messy "mad scientist" in his pristine lab was driving his OCD crazy, but the laugh was a start.
​"What did you wish for, Donnie?"
​He went still. He looked at me, his brown eyes searching mine with an intensity I hadn't seen before. "To never be alone," he whispered.

​My heart took a painful leap against my ribs. "You aren't alone," I promised. "We’re right here."
​I pulled his head to my chest, holding him close. As I felt him lean into the hug, a wave of panic hit me. This was bad. My feelings for Donnie were growing into something I couldn't control, and I knew there were only two ways this could end.
​In the first version, I confess, he rejects me, and the awkwardness ruins everything—I lose my best friend and my place with the brothers forever. In the second, miracle version, he feels the same way and everything is perfect. But I couldn't let myself hope for a fairytale. Not when the third option—this painful, silent pining—was so much safer.
Sometime before

Leo pov

After we blew out the candles, the noise became too much. I slipped away to my room, closing the door on the celebration.
​In the corner, my nightlight was already on, casting a soft, artificial sunset across the walls. I loved the sunset; it was the only thing that made the room feel open instead of underground. My sound machine hummed in the background, a steady loop of falling rain and white noise meant to drown out the silence I’ve grown to hate.

​A heavy, familiar footstep thudded outside. A second later, there was a dull thump as Raph clipped the edge of the doorframe. He was getting better at navigating his blind spots, but every now and then, his left side still betrayed him.
​With his scarred face and that milky white eye, he looked like a street brawler who had seen too many wars. He rubbed the side of his head where he’d hit the wood, offering a lopsided, self-deprecating grin.

​"Sorry," he joked, his voice low. "Still getting used to the left side. You good, Leo?"
​"Yeah," I said, leaning back against my pillows. "Just got a little loud out there. Figured I’d decompress."
​We hadn't been out on patrol in a long time. My body was technically healed, and Mikey’s hands were steady enough to hold his nunchucks again, but Donnie insisted we weren't ready. He said we needed more time before returning to our "usual routine."
​"Leo, you don't have to hold it in," Raph said, his expression softening into that 'Big Brother' look. "If something’s bothering you, you can talk to me."
​"I'm okay, big bro. Really."
​I wasn't. I kept thinking about the cakes. Donnie and I had spent years begging for our own separate birthdays, our own separate stuff. But looking at those two cakes tonight, all I could think was that if I hadn't made it back, Donnie would finally have the solo birthday he always wanted. He’d have a pile of presents without my name on half of them. The thought made my chest ache.

​"I just wanted some quiet," I lied. "But is there something you want to talk about?"
​Raph looked at me for a long beat. He knew I was dodging, but I could tell he had something weighing on him, too. Raph wears his heart on his sleeve; he isn't the type to hide his emotions, even if it makes him look vulnerable. Sometimes I envied that. I hated the idea of anyone seeing my cracks.
​"I know things haven't been the same," Raph started, looking down at his hands. "And I know everyone is dying to get out of the lair. I can’t help but think it’s my fault we’re stuck here. I mean... you guys look fine. It’s just me. I’m the one who still needs time."

​I stared at him. I knew Donnie and Dad had grounded us all so we could heal as a family, but Raph felt like he was the anchor dragging us down.

​"You're not the only one, Raph," I said, the lie tasting like copper in my mouth. "I still need time, too. My body is still sore... I can’t get it to move the way it used to."
​I was fine, physically. But Raph needed to hear that he wasn't the only one struggling.

​"And," Raph added, his voice dropping an octave, "I know I’m not the leader anymore, but I can’t help the old habits. I’m sorry if I’ve been overstepping your authority."
​I looked at my big brother, the guy who had carried the weight of this family since we were kids. I never truly wanted to be the leader. I’d do it—I would be the leader when the world was ending—but right now, in the quiet of a room that with fake rain sounds like rain and fake sunsets, I didn't want to be in charge. I just wanted to be a brother.

​"I’m proud of you, Leo. You’ve grown so much," Raph said. He let out a dry, hollow laugh. "I mean, I didn't get to see most of it because I was... occupied by the Krang. But I heard that when you finally put your mind to it, you were a great leader. I guess Dad was right to choose you."

​It felt like a physical blow to the chest. He didn't know how much those words hurt. The whole time I was a leader, I felt like I was failing. I didn't feel like a leader at all. If it were up to me, I’d give the title back to Raph in a heartbeat—but I knew that wasn't what the team needed right now. They needed this Leo.
​"I mean, of course I was!" I chirped, flashing my signature grin. I made sure to dial up the charm until it felt like a shield. "That future boy was right—I saved the world once, didn't I? Just watch, before you know it, I’ll fulfill my destiny as the greatest ninja the world has ever seen."
​Raph sighed, shaking his head. "You still have a lot of growing up to do, Leo."

​That stung, but I didn't let it show. "Pfft. You’re only a year older than me, dude. It’s not like you’re some ancient sage."
​"Hey, I still know more than you do," Raph countered, pointing a finger at me.
​"Oh yeah? Like what?"
​"Like... like how to actually show up to training! I have way more hours on the mat than you do."
​I rolled my eyes dramatically. "I would show up to training, but it’s just so boring. You should take a class on how to teach your brothers without making them die of boredom."
​Raph gasped, offended. "Okay, Mr. Fashion-Sense. Like you could do any better?"

​I knew I could. I knew exactly what my brothers needed to work on, how to push them, and how to make them stronger. But showing that side of myself—the serious, observant side—felt like giving too much away. If I showed them I was capable, I’d have to keep being that person. So, I decided to lean into the joke.

​"Oh, I totally could! Watch, I’ll have us all at Lou Jitsu’s level in a week. You’re just bad at it," I said, flipping my mask tails over my shoulder.
​I expected him to come back with a sarcastic remark, but he just nodded. "Fine. I'll hold you to it. Next training session, you’re in charge."
​My heart sank. Oh, great. Just what I needed. "Yeah, fine! Watch me. I’ll have everyone becoming ninja masters in no time."
​"I'm counting on it," Raph said softly as he walked out of the room.

​I stared at the ceiling. I hadn't planned on putting in any actual effort, but the weight of his "counting on it" felt like lead.
​I spent the next few minutes mindlessly scrolling through TikTok, trying to drown out my thoughts, until a soft knock sounded at the door. It pushed open to reveal Donnie, standing there with his pillow tucked under his arm.
​He didn't say a word, and he didn't have to. I already knew why he was here. I scooted over, making room on the mattress. Donnie climbed in, laying on his stomach next to me. He pulled out his phone and started a game, the familiar glow of the screen and the rhythmic tapping of his thumbs finally letting my brain go quiet.

​Donnie’s POV
​I lay there on my stomach, the light from my phone screen illuminating the dark of Leo’s room. My thumbs moved through my game on autopilot, but my processor was stuck on a loop. Specifically, I was replaying the feeling of April’s hug.

​I had felt her heartbeat against my plastron. It had accelerated—a 15% increase from her resting heart rate. I loved the sound of her heart; it was a steady, rhythmic frequency that grounded me.
​Because of my autism, physical touch is... complicated. I’ve never been able to stand it for long.
Raph’s hugs are the worst—too much pressure, his shell is always slightly sticky from training, and he never accounts for his own brute strength. He suffocates more than he consoles. Mikey is far too clingy; his touch is erratic and constant. Leo, surprisingly, is the only brother I can tolerate. He seems to have a sixth sense for my "No-Touch" zones, knowing exactly when to stay back and when to lean in.

​But April? April is an anomaly.
​I never mind her touch. In fact, I find myself subconsciously calculating ways to be in her orbit. We’ve been close since the day we met—closer than she is with any of my brothers, though I’d never say that to their faces. I don't need to. The data speaks for itself.

​I’ve dedicated an entire sub-folder of my brain to her. I know she hates the sound of velvet rubbing against itself. I know she prefers her plantains fried just until the edges are caramelized—a specific shade of deep brown that she says "tastes like home." I keep a stash of her favorite ginger ale and those specific honey-roasted peanuts in the back of the lab fridge, and I’ve even integrated a hidden compartment in my battle-shell just for her preferred snacks, in case we’re ever stranded.

​I know the nuances of her hair, too. I’ve watched her spend hours on her "wash day" routine. I know that when she’s stressed, she’ll subconsciously retwist a stray curl near her ear. I’ve even secretly researched the chemical composition of the oils she uses—she smells like cocoa butter, hibiscus, and a faint hint of high-octane fuel from helping me in the garage. It’s the most logical scent in the world to me.

​I know her "power walk"—the way her heels hit the ground with more force when she’s about to give someone a piece of her mind. I know that her favorite color isn't actually yellow, despite her jacket; she actually prefers a deep, royal purple, but she wears the yellow because it makes her easier for us to find in a crowd.

​She thinks she’s looking after us, but I am constantly looking after her. I pick up her calls on the first ring—not the second, never the third. I’ve built her custom gear, not just because she needs it, but because I want her to have the best protection my mind can conceive.

​Leo shifted next to me, his breathing evening out, but I stayed awake, staring at my game. I told myself it was just friendship—that I was just being a "good teammate." But as I remembered the way she held my face in her hands tonight, my own heart rate spiked to match hers.
​I lay there, the blue light of my phone illuminating the ceiling. The silence of the room was beginning to itch at the back of my brain.

​"Leo," I said, my voice cutting through the quiet with its usual dramatic flair. "Do you ever contemplate the inevitable passage of time? You know... the future?"
​Leo froze. For a micro-second, the "Face Man" mask slipped, and I saw a flash of something—anxiety? Calculation? Then, it was gone, replaced by that trademark, effortless grin.
​"Oh, all the time, Tello! I’m currently envisioning a future where I have a triple-layer pepperoni pizza for lunch tomorrow. It’s a bright future. Very cheesy."
​I scoffed, rolling my eyes so hard it almost hurt. "Predictable. No, I mean... Do you ever see yourself elsewhere? Moving out? Acquiring a career that doesn't involve sewer maintenance? Perhaps... finding a companion? Starting a domestic unit?"
​Leo stared at me. For a moment, his eyes were heavy, like he was weighing a hundred different "what-ifs." But then he shoved me playfully, the weight vanishing.

​"Get out of here! Is this your way of saying you’re tired of my stunning presence? Because I hate to break it to you, Don-ton, but you’ve got at least two more years of me before you can even think about a lease."
​"That is not what I—"
​"Oh! Oh, I see!" Leo interrupted, his eyes gleaming with mischief. He lunged forward, grabbing me in a headlock. "Donnie’s got a crush! Who is she? What’s her name? Does she like purple? Does she have a high tolerance for technobabble?"
​"Unhand me, you savage!" I yelped, struggling against his grip. He started tickling me—a low-tier tactical move, yet highly effective. I dissolved into a fit of undignified laughter. "Stop! It’s—haha—it’s not that!"
​He let go before it became sensory overload, flopping back onto his pillow.

​"I was just thinking about Casey," I said, straightening my posture even though I was lying down. "He’s from the future. He’s Cassandra’s son. Logically, that implies that in at least one timeline, we... flourish. We move on. We have families."
​Leo’s expression shifted into something uncharacteristically grounded. "Casey’s mom gets a pass because she’s human, Dee. We’re... well, we’re us. It’s not like there’s a line of ladies knocking on the sewer lid to get a piece of this." He gestured to himself. "Out of all of us, April’s the only one with a real shot at that. She’ll find some guy, get married, move to a house that doesn't smell like damp concrete..."

​Something in my chest did a strange, violent somersault. A "twist" that felt like a system error. The image of April in a house I didn't build, with a person I hadn't vetted, made my skin feel two sizes too small. I didn't understand the reaction. Was it a fear of losing my primary human contact? A protective instinct over a valuable asset? It felt... heavier than that.
​"There is an entire Hidden City beneath us, Leo," I countered, my voice sounding a bit more strained than I intended. "The statistical probability of finding a compatible partner is significantly higher than zero. It is important to analyze every angle."
​Leo chuckled, but it wasn't his usual mocking laugh. It was soft. "So, what? Is that the move? Are you gonna download a Yokai dating app? 'Genius turtle seeks someone who won't touch his stuff'?"
​"No! I am merely stating facts!"
​"Look, I never really thought about dating as a possibility for us," Leo said, turning to look at me. "But if you’ve got someone in mind... go for it. You’re a catch, Tello. You’re the most likely of us to get rich off some weird crypto-scam or high-level coding. Any girl—or boy, I don't know your life—would be lucky."
​I blinked. Leo sounded... reasonable. Insightful, even. It was a rare glimpse behind the curtain of his ego.
​"Thanks, Nardo," I muttered.
​"Tello" and "Nardo." The names were relics of our childhood—a "Twin-Only" verbal handshake. If anyone else used them, it was an immediate offense. Between us, it was the ultimate peace offering.
​I turned back to my game, but the screen was a blur. My brain was still stuck on that "glitch" in my chest—the irrational, illogical rejection of a world where April wasn't by my side. I’d have to run a diagnostic on that later.
​For now, I just let the white noise of the rain machine pull us both into a restless sleep.

Chapter Text

Leo pov

 ​I woke up exactly one hour later. Donnie was sprawled next to me like a rigid, purple starfish, half-hanging off the edge of the mattress.

​I couldn't sleep. Sleep and I have been on a "it’s complicated" basis for a year now. I looked around my room—the nightlight was dim, casting a faint, fake sunset against the concrete, and the sound machine was whispering the steady rhythm of rain. It was peaceful. It was perfect. And I still couldn't close my eyes.

​I slipped out of bed, grabbing my katanas. Luckily, when Donnie actually crashes, he’s out cold. It’s like his brain finally runs out of battery and just forces a hard reset; nothing short of an emergency alarm or a lab explosion wakes him up.

​I crept out of the room and sliced a portal into the air.

​A second later, I was standing on a rooftop in New York. The city air felt cool and real. We’d shifted our schedules to match April’s and Draxum’s daytime routines, but my internal clock was still stuck in "ninja mode."

​Before I got my portal powers, sneaking out was a mission. Now? It’s a shortcut. My brothers think I hate training. They think I skip it because I’m lazy or bored. The truth is, I find a certain peace in the quiet repetition of the blades when no one is watching. It’s the only time my thoughts stay still. It’s when I feel closest to the legend of Lou Jitsu... before I found out he was my dad. The Rat. I still look at him sometimes and wonder what happened to that guy.

​Donnie thinks his security system is foolproof. He thinks his tracking devices on our shells are unhackable. What he doesn't realize is that Donnie never shuts up. He explains his tech step-by-step, giving away his own "backdoors" while he brags. People just don't pay attention. I’ve spent enough time "helping" in the lab to know exactly how to mess with his code. I’m invisible to his computers; I’ve set it to delete my data seconds after it’s recorded.

​I’d bet twenty bucks he’d have a literal motherboard meltdown if he knew a "dum-dum" like me was ghosting his genius tech.

​I leaned against the stone railing, looking over the glowing grid of the city. My mind drifted back to Donnie’s questions. I’m 99.9% sure he has a crush. Why else would he bring it up? Donnie is an Einstein at analyzing data, but emotions? That’s his blind spot. That’s why he can never figure me out. He only knows the Leo I allow him to see.

​It’s not that I want to hide from my brothers. It’s just... I see no point in being the "Serious One." I hate that version of me. I want to be the carefree one. The hope of the team. I let the serious side out during the invasion, and it almost got everyone killed. I’d rather be the clown than the guy who leads his family into a cage.

​And the dating thing? Yeah, I’ve joked about it. I’ve told Dad I’d give him grandkids and complained about being single. And sure, I’ve done my own "research" and figured out I’m bi, but does it even matter? It’s not like it’s actually going to happen. Being a six-foot mutant turtle doesn't exactly make for a great Tinder profile.

​The best I can do is jerk it to porn on a screen… What? I’m a healthy teen boy, okay? I have needs, even if they’re never going to be met by anyone who isn't a pixel on a screen.

​I stood up, spinning my sword once before sheathing it. I didn't come here to mope. I came here to move.

​I pushed myself until my lungs burned and my muscles screamed. I ran drills until the sweat soaked through my gear, and my movements became a blur of steel and instinct. I needed to be tired—not just regular tired, but the kind of bone-deep exhaustion that forces the brain to shut up. The kind of tired where those "internet distractions" and lonely thoughts couldn't find a way in.

​Once I felt like I could actually drop, I portaled back into the lair.

​I took a quick, steaming shower to wash off the New York grime, then crept back into my room. The rain machine was still humming faithfully. Donnie was still there, but he’d managed to migrate across the entire mattress. He was taking up nearly all the space, his limbs locked in a tangle of blankets.

​I didn't have the energy to fight him for the middle. I just grabbed my pillow and shoved it down at the foot of the bed where his legs were. It wasn't the most dignified sleeping arrangement, but I didn't care. I curled up, facing the wall, let out one long breath, and finally let the darkness take me.

​Donnie’s POV

​Four days. It had been four days, and Leo’s words were still rattling around in my brain like a loose screw in a motherboard. “If there’s someone on your mind, you should go for it.”

​Did I have "feelings" for April? I wasn't sure. Feelings weren't exactly my specialty; I preferred things I could chart, graph, or upgrade. But after doing some—and by some, I mean an exhaustive amount—of research on romantic attraction, I realized I needed a second opinion. A more... emotional opinion.

​I woke up that morning to find Leo and me tangled in a chaotic, starfish-shaped mess. Every time we shared a bed, it looked like we’d spent the night wrestling for territory or blankets. This time, I’d woken up with his foot dangerously close to my face.

​I needed someone else's perspective. I knew Raph would just agree with Leo. Every time Leo joked about wanting a girlfriend or giving Dad grandkids, Raph took it seriously. But now that Leo had told me he’d never actually considered it a real option... I didn't know what to believe. Leo was an enigma wrapped in a mystery wrapped in a very annoying blue mask.

​I headed to the kitchen, where a certain orange-masked brother was already at work. The air was thick with the glorious scent of a "Mikey Special." I could smell the protein packs, omelets, and Italian sausages—the massive ones you actually have to carve, not the pathetic little links you get at a diner. And, of course, the smell of breakfast pizza puffs wafted from the oven.

​"Smells acceptable, Michael," I said, leaning against the counter.

​Mikey spun around, a spatula in his now very steady hand. "Donatello! Good morning! You're up early."

​Before he could conscript me into kitchen labor, I started grabbing plates and setting the table. Mikey was a stickler for family meals; he wouldn't cook unless we all sat down together, and since none of us wanted to starve or eat whatever burnt offering Raph tried to make, we followed his rules.

​He watched me suspiciously as I folded the napkins with uncharacteristic precision. He knew I was stalling.

​"Can I ask you a question, Mikey?"

​"Sure! Anything, Dee. But if this is about my hands, they’re fine," he said, his voice bright. He was such a ray of sunshine that it actually hurt sometimes. After the invasion, seeing him so depressed had been a system shock. I never wanted to see him that low again.

​"Have you ever thought about the future?" I asked, trying to sound casual. "Like... moving out? Finding a companion? Marrying? Possibly producing offspring?"

​Mikey paused, looking surprised, then a wide, soft smile spread across his face. "Yeah, I have. Everyone deserves love, Donnie. I believe when the right time comes, I’ll meet 'The One.' We’ll get married, have kids—the whole thing."

​"And you aren't concerned about the... logistics?" I gestured vaguely to my green skin and shell. "The whole 'mutant turtle' factor?"

​"I believe in soulmates, Dee. The person meant for me is out there; I just haven't met them yet. When there’s love, the rest is just details. Besides, there's a whole Hidden City now! Our chances have gone way up. Whyyyyy do you ask?" He leaned in, his eyes dancing with mischief. He smelled blood in the water.

​I sighed. I was going to regret this. "If I tell you, you have to promise on everything you love and your honor that you will not tell a soul."

​Mikey stared at me, then placed a hand over his heart and held up two fingers in a sacred vow. "I promise on my mint-condition Jupiter Jim comic collection. Not a word."

​I took a deep breath. "How do you know... if you have feelings for someone?"

​Mikey gasped so loud it sounded like a vacuum cleaner. "OH Me GOSH! DONNIE! YOU HAVE A CRUSH!"

​"SHHH! Quiet, you sentient megaphone!" I hissed, lunging across the table to cover his mouth. "I don't know! That’s why I’m asking!"

​The Lesson

​After breakfast—which Raph had to drag a sleep-deprived Leo out for breakfast Leo looked like a zombie, stumbling back to his room the second his plate was empty, and Raph headed to the dojo. That left me alone with Mikey in Dad’s TV room.

​Splinter was still asleep; he usually didn't emerge until the afternoon, so Mikey always left a plate in the fridge for him.

​Mikey proceeded to give me a long, incredibly uncomfortable lecture on the "Spectrum of Affection." I tried to pay attention, but it went south the moment he started asking questions a fifteen-year-old should not be asking.

​He started talking about "sexual attraction" and measuring crushes on some sort of emotional scale. When I started to physically vibrate with discomfort, Mikey just got more serious.

​"Donnie, it’s important to know your sexuality and be comfortable with it," he said, sounding way too much like a therapist. "If you start dating, things can lead to... other things. It’s important to be educated about safe, sane, and consensual sex."

​That was my cue to leave. I stood up so fast I nearly tripped over my own cape.

​"Okay! Great talk! Goodbye!"

​I retreated to my lab, my brain sizzling. Is he even allowed to know those words? I should probably put a parental lock on his phone. In my mind, Mikey was still twelve years old, and hearing him talk about "consensual sex" was like hearing a toaster give a lecture on nuclear physics. It was wrong. It was deeply, deeply wrong.

I sat in the silence of my lab, the hum of my servers, the only company I had. I couldn’t say I subscribed to Mikey’s "soulmate" theory—there simply isn’t enough empirical evidence to support the existence of a singular, predestined partner. However, Michael did provide some usable data points. He mentioned "butterflies" in the stomach and a spiked heart rate.

​As much as I hated to admit it, Mikey was onto something. As uncomfortable as the subject was, I needed to investigate the concept of sexual attraction. I had learned the basics of anatomy when I was fourteen—standard curiosity, really. I understood the mechanics; I knew why I experienced the occasional morning "physiological response, or a hard on as my brothers call it" but I had never bothered to investigate what I was personally into. It just seemed like a distraction from my work.

​Until now.

​I retreated to the secret sub-chamber of my lab—my "Panic Room." It was the only place where my privacy was 100% guaranteed, away from brothers who think "knocking" is an optional suggestion. I cleared a space on the wall and started a new board. I began with the data: how she made me feel, and how I reacted to her.

​First, the "butterflies." Scientifically speaking, that fluttering sensation in the stomach is actually a result of the "fight or flight" response releasing adrenaline. In this context? It was a physiological reaction to being... turned on by her. My heart rate spikes, and based on my earlier observations, hers does too.

​But it wasn't just biology. It was the compatibility.

​She makes me feel comfortable—a rare state for me. I can lower my emotional firewalls without fear of judgment. She understands the "Donnie" that everyone else finds exhausting. We are emotionally compatible; she is my anchor, and I am her tech-support-turned-confidant.

​Then, there was the "Type" analysis. I always assumed my preference leaned toward the "Cute but Mean" archetype. April fits the criteria perfectly. She is undeniably cute, but she is also bossy, assertive, and terrifyingly mean when she needs to be. I find that... deeply compelling. Others might label her as rude or aggressive, but I see it as radical honesty. She has beaten our collective shells on multiple occasions and isn't afraid to give us an old-school "ass-whooping" if we step out of line.

​I stared at the board, the photos and notes staring back at me.

​"Oh, Newton’s apple," I whispered, leaning back in my chair.

​The data was conclusive. I wasn't just experiencing a friendship-based attachment. I was experiencing a multi-layered, romantic, and sexual attraction to my best friend.

​The question was: What do I do with a conclusion that I can’t simply code away?

Chapter Text

Raph’s POV

​“The nerve of that guy!” I growled, paced the dojo floor.

​Today was supposed to be a milestone: Leo’s first official training lesson. Mikey, Donnie, and Casey were already there, lined up with military precision. We were all waiting on Leo. Now, Leo is always late, but we were pushing the three-hour mark.

​I could feel a twitch starting in my good eye. I stood there with my arms crossed, my tail lashing behind me, thumping my foot against the floor.

​“That’s it,” I muttered, my voice low and dangerous. “I’m dragging him down here by his shell.”

​The others didn't say a word; they just watched me. They knew that look. That was the "Raph is about to lose it" look.

​Suddenly, the doors slid open. Leo strolled in, a coffee in one hand and his phone in the other. He didn't even look up. He looked like he’d just rolled out of bed, his mask lopsided and a sleepy, smug grin on his face.

​“Hey, bros? What’s the hold-up?” he yawned, finally looking at us like we were the ones being inconvenient.

​My hands balled into fists. “You’re the hold-up! We’ve been standing here for three hours, Leo!”

​“For me? Why would you be waiting for me?” He took a slow, obnoxious sip of his coffee, making a loud slurp sound that echoed in the quiet room.

​The heat in my chest flared. He knew. He definitely knew. “You were supposed to be teaching the lesson, Leo! You made that whole big speech!”

​He put on a fake, over-the-top look of surprise, gasping like a bad actor in a soap opera. “Oh... was I supposed to do that today? My bad, Big Red. I guess I lost track of time while I was... you know, being the leader.”

​He gave me a dismissive wave of his hand, like I was a nagging fly. The disrespect stung worse than the lateness. “But hey, now that you're here, the floor is all yours,” I said through gritted teeth.

​He stretched, his joints popping, making a huge show of his "natural talent." He didn't even apologize. He just stepped to the center of the mat, his cockiness radiating off him. “Okay, team! Are you ready to have a real master teacher? Are you ready to become a man? Or at least, move like you're in a high-budget Marvel movie?”

​He added way too much drama, but it worked on the younger guys. “Yeah! Let’s go!”

​“Then... let’s... do... THIS!”

​Four Hours Later

​That had to be one of the worst lessons in the history of history. My blood wasn't just simmering anymore; it was a volcanic eruption waiting to happen.

​Leo didn't teach us discipline. He didn't teach us strategy. He taught us "Cinema Fu." He spent two hours forcing us to practice the "Crane Kick" from The Karate Kid and the "360-degree slow-mo spin" from The Matrix. He kept shouting things like, "More style! More 'pizzazz'! If we aren't looking good while we fight, what's even the point?"

​He forced Mikey to try a "Double Corkscrew Flip" he saw in an old Jackie Chan movie. Mikey tried, but without his mystic powers fully under control, he landed hard on his shell. Leo just laughed it off. "Again, Mike! With more 'flair' this time!"

​Then he turned to Donnie. He told Donnie to put away his staff and try "Drunken Master" boxing. Donnie—who literally survives on logic and calculated strikes—looked like a glitching robot trying to dance. He was stumbling, looking humiliated, while Leo corrected his "pose."

​"Leo, this is inefficient," Donnie hissed.

​"It's cinematic, Dee! Get with the program!" Leo snapped back, his voice dripping with that annoying 'I'm-the-boss' tone.

​Finally, he got to me. He wanted me, the guy who is built like a brick wall, to do gymnastic flares and Capoeira handstands. My muscles literally wouldn't bend that way. Every time I failed, Leo would sigh loudly, loud enough for the whole room to hear.

​"Come on, Raph, you're being so... heavy," he said, rolling his eyes. "Try to be light. Be 'Leo-esque.'"

​The breaking point came when he brought out a flamethrower—some DIY contraption he’d scavenged.

​“Okay, Mikey! I want you to do a 'Fire Dragon Strike' like in Avatar! Just jump through the flames and look cool!”

​“Leo, wait—” I started, but he’d already pulled the trigger.

​A massive jet of orange fire roared across the dojo. Mikey shrieked and dove out of the way, but the flames caught the training mats. In seconds, the dojo was a disaster zone.

​Donnie, Leo, and Mikey were scrambling to put it out, shouting over each other.

​“Why did you think this was a good idea?!”

“Leo, you set our home on fire!”

​I stood there in the middle of the smoke, my vision tunneling. The anger was so thick I could taste it. Finally, Donnie triggered the overhead fire extinguisher system. The flames died down, leaving us all soaked and shivering in the ruins of our training room.

​I didn't even think. I lunged. I grabbed Leo by the throat of his gear and slammed him into the soot-covered floor. “What were you thinking?!” I roared.

​Leo looked up at me, and for a second, I expected him to be sorry. But he just looked... annoyed. Like I was the one ruining the fun. “I thought it was going well, Raph! Get off me!”

​“No! You almost burned Mikey! You only thought of yourself!”

​I went to swing a punch, but Casey dove in between us. “Stop! Master Raph, please!”

​“Get out of the way, Casey!”

​“No! Master Leonardo wouldn't hurt anyone! He just wanted it to look like it would!”

​I pushed the kid aside, but Leo was already moving. He danced into my blind spot—my left side, where the world was just a blur of grey and shadow. Every time I lunged, he’d just side-step with a smug little "tch" sound. It felt like he was mocking my injury. It felt like he was showing me how easy it was to beat me now.

​Soon, the noise brought Dad and April running.

​“What is going on here?!” Dad yelled. April jumped between us, shoving her hands against my chest.

​“Dad! Leo just—”

​“Up-upa-upa! I don't want to hear it!” Dad cut me off. “Raph, you are the biggest. You protect your brothers, you do not humble them to the ground!”

​I felt a sob of pure, hot frustration catch in my throat. I wasn't the bad guy here! Why was I always the bad guy?!

​April saw it. She grabbed my arm and pulled me into the other room. I collapsed into a chair, my hands shaking. I told her everything—the three-hour wait, the "Drunken Master" nonsense, the flamethrower, and how Leo kept picking on my blind spot.

​“I just... I don't see why he didn't care,” I whispered, wiping my eyes with the back of my hand. “He made me feel weak, April. He made me feel like I’m no good anymore because I can’t see him coming.”

​April didn't say anything for a long time. She just sat there and let me vent. Then, she pulled me into a hug.

​“Raph, I know it’s hard. You’re the heart of this team,” she said softly. “Leo is being an absolute asshole right now, and he’s dealing with his own stuff in the worst way possible—by being a jerk. But you can’t let him break you.”

​She stayed with me until my heart stopped racing. God, what would we do without her? She’s the big sister I always needed. 

Later, I retreated to my room, feeling like a genius. My plan had worked perfectly—as usual—but okay, fine, maybe my ego was doing its little victory dance again.

​I know my brothers better than Donnie knows his wifi password. I know their strengths, but I really know their cracks. I’d used those weaknesses against them on purpose. I knew Donnie would get stuck in "analytical paralysis" over the drunk ninja style. I knew Raph’s massive, "hugging-sized" frame couldn't handle the hyper-flexibility I was demanding.

​And Mikey? Honestly, Angelo was actually crushing the lesson. The kid is a natural—he adapts to anything like a literal sponge. Out of all of us, he’s got the most raw talent, but the others just see him as the "precious sensitive baby." He could do so much more if we all just... you know, locked in. But hey, why do that when I can just make everyone fail and go back to my comic books?

​I was deep in my "brilliant mastermind" thoughts when a knock came at the door. My brothers usually just barge in like they're looking for a lost sock, but there’s only one person in this lair who actually respects the sanctity of a closed door.

​"Come in, Cassie-o-peia!" I called out, leaning back with maximum "cool guy" energy.

​He walked in with that small, hesitant smile. This kid is obsessed with me for some reason—always running to me when he needs advice, like I’m some kind of glowing enlightened turtle-god. It’s a lot of pressure for a Tuesday.

​Instead of hopping onto the bed like a normal teenager, he sat on his heels on the floor right in front of me. Like I was about to knight him or something. It was super formal, and honestly? It made me want to wiggle out of my own shell.

​"Sensei, can I ask you about training today?"

​"Yeah, total disaster, right? 0 out of 10, do not recommend," I joked, flashing my trademark 'Face of the Group' grin. "I was going for a certain je ne sais quoi, but I guess it didn't quite hit the way I envisioned. My artistic vision is just too advanced for this century, truly."

​He didn't laugh. He gave me that look—the one that says he can see right through the 'Leon' razzmatazz.

​"Leo... why would you purposefully sabotage the lesson like that?"

​I felt a chill. Busted. "Sabotage? Me? Casey, I’m hurt! I’m wounded! Someone call a doctor—wait, that’s Mikey." I tried to laugh it off, but my voice was doing that annoying shaky thing. "It was a genuine lesson, bud. It just... didn't go the way I planned. Total fluke."

​Casey didn't buy the act. He gave me a look of quiet, heavy disappointment. "Sensei, I grew up with you. You trained me. I know when you're 'Leo-ing' the situation."

​"Is 'Leo-ing' a verb now? Because if so, I want royalties," I snapped, but the wall was crumbling. It was weird hearing someone I’d just met claim to have memories of me that I hadn't even made yet.

​"Look, Case," I sighed, dropping the 'Face' for a second. "I know you're used to a certain version of me. Future Me. The guy with the cool cape and the 'I-know-what-I’m-doing' vibe. But I hate to break it to you: I'm not that guy. I was the leader during the invasion because, hey, aliens. But now? I’m clocking out. I’m on union break. I’ll be the leader when the world is ending, but for a random Tuesday training? They don’t need the 'Master,' they just need their annoying brother."

​Casey looked at me with a mix of sadness and understanding. "My Leo wasn't great because he wanted to be," he said softly. "It was because he had to be. He told me he never wanted to be the leader, but he had a talent for it, and people needed him. So, he carried the weight. And through it all, he kept making jokes... he thought if he kept quipping, we wouldn't see how scared he was. He gave us hope by pretending he wasn't terrified."

​That hit me right in the plastron. Harder than a Krang punch.

​"I still see him in you," Casey added. "Even the annoying parts. It’s just weird seeing the stories he told about his younger self play out in real life."

​Great. I’m predictable. My future self is a spoiler-alert for my own life. "How would he even tell those stories? Let me guess, with a lot of dramatic lighting and pointing?"

​Casey’s voice shifted. He made an impression—and it was scary good. He sounded like me, but with more gravel and way too much 'Senior Citizen' energy.

​"'When I was your age, Casey,'" Casey began, and I winced—Oh god, I turned into a cliché! "'I was a mess. A beautiful, one-man-show mess. I wanted to be the greatest without anyone dragging me down... because I was terrified I was actually nothing without them. I masked my insecurities with 100% pure, concentrated ego. Everything I was actually good at felt too scary to show, so I hid it under a layer of sarcasm and bad jokes. I wanted to be confident, so I became cocky. I was afraid of being bored, so I demanded the spotlight. But in the end... that just made the spotlight feel really lonely.'"

​The air left my lungs. My throat tightened. He didn't just see through the 'Face.' He had the blueprints for the whole fortress.

Can I ask you a question, Sensei?” Casey asked, sounding way too serious for a Tuesday.

​I leaned back, throwing my arms over the headboard with a dramatic sigh. “Casey, mi amigo, in this timeline, you don’t need to file a three-page permit every time you want to speak. I am a man of the people! Free speech! Razzmatazz! Shoot.”

​He let out a small, genuine laugh—not one of those "the world is ending" chuckles he usually does. “Can I join you the next time you go on your solo training missions?”

​I nearly pulled a muscle trying to play it cool. I know the kid has my entire life story downloaded onto a hard drive in his brain, but dang, it’s still spooky when he does that.

​“How do you know about—?” I caught myself and waved a hand dismissively. “Actually, don’t answer that. Let me guess: The Future?”

​“The future,” Casey confirmed with a little shrug. “You told me stories about your 'Lone Wolf' era. Sneaking out at 14, practicing in the shadows... you said you didn't stop until you were 17. Since you’re currently 16 and—no offense—not exactly a master of subtlety yet, I figured you were still at it. I want to go. I can help. And I won't tell a soul.”

​“Right. Future spoilers. My favorite,” I muttered, then did a double-take. “Wait, wait, wait. I stop at 17? Why do I stop at 17? Do I finally achieve physical perfection? Do I retire to a beach in Tahiti? Tell me I don’t get a lame hobby like knitting!”

​Casey’s eyes went dinner-plate wide. He slammed his hands over his mouth so fast it made a slap sound. Oof. Big-time spoiler slip. In his timeline, everything went to shell when I was 17—maybe that’s when the resistance started, or maybe Raph finally caught me and grounded me for a decade. Either way, I was going to have to be extra stealthy to prove the timeline wrong.

​“Okay, Case. You’re in,” I said, pointing a finger at him like a legal warning. “But on one condition: you have to be a literal ghost. If you make a peep, trip over a trash can, or get us caught by Raph—who, by the way, has the ears of a bat and the mothering instincts of a grizzly bear—you are out. Blacklisted. Canceled!”

​He beamed, his eyes practically sparkling. “I promise! You’re the one who taught me how to move without a sound, remember? I'll be so quiet you'll forget I'm even there.”

Chapter Text

April pov 

​After talking to Raph, I headed toward the lab. I’d been planning to give Leo a piece of my mind for that disastrous lesson, but I saw Casey heading in there first. That kid is smart; he has a way of putting Leo in his place with nothing but pure, unfiltered respect. It’s still wild to me that he’s Cassandra’s kid. She’s currently on a "self-discovery journey" in New Jersey—which is basically her version of Eat, Pray, Love, but with more aggressive soul-searching. She sends me pictures every day.

​I punched the code into Donnie’s lab and walked right in.

​The lab was empty. Well, the main desk was. Donnie’s lab is easily the biggest room in the lair since he literally tore down walls to make space for his mechanical children. It’s got that "Mad Scientist Purple" aesthetic that only he can pull off.

​I didn't see him, so I hit the speed dial. He picked up on the first ring. Classic.

​“You are currently conversing with Donatello,” his voice droned over the line.

​“Hey, Dee. I’m in your lab. Where are you at?”

​I heard a faint echo. My reporter instincts pinged. I looked toward his panic room and saw the door was cracked open. I started walking toward it when—BAM—Donnie scrambled out and slammed the door shut behind him.

​“April! What a... highly statistically improbable surprise! What are you doing here?”

​He was acting suspicious. Like, 'I-just-accidentally-sent-a-missile-to-New-Jersey' suspicious.

​“Hey, Dee... what’s in the room?”

​“What room?” He blinked, his face a mask of fake innocence.

​“The room you are currently guarding with your life,” I said, pointing.

​“I see no room. This is a wall. A very sturdy, purple wall.”

​“Donnie, the panic room. Move.”

​“There is no panic room in this sector of the lair!”

​I smacked my hands against my face. Okay, he clearly wasn't going to budge. I’ll let it go for now, but I’m definitely investigating later.

​“Anyways,” he said, his voice an octave higher than usual. He practically shoved me toward his desk. “What brings you to my humble abode?”

​I sat in the extra chair he keeps just for me. I reached into his mini-fridge and grabbed a ginger ale. It was perfectly chilled. I swear, for a guy who pretends he doesn't have feelings, he pays so much attention to what I like.

​“Do I need a reason? I’m here like, every day, Dee.”

​“Oh. Right. Correct.” He looked distracted. Flushed. Actually, was he sweating? My curiosity was reaching dangerous levels.

​A couple of hours passed. I was lounging in the chair, scrolling through TikTok and destroying a bag of chips Donnie keeps stocked for me. Donnie was back at his desk, working on... something. He was wearing one of his purple hoodies, and for some reason, it was deeply annoying me how good he looked in it.

​Donnie is a nerd—that’s a scientific fact. But he’s also the coolest person I know. He’s like if Iron Man and Einstein had a baby, but with better fashion sense. He’s got that K-Pop street style mixed with high-tech chic, and he always looks so... put together.

​And he’s strong. Not 'Raph-strong,' but he does all the heavy lifting and maintenance for the lair. I watched him reach for a heavy piece of equipment, the fabric of his hoodie pulling across his shoulders. He’s 6’2” and I’m 5’2”, so when he stands up, he just towers over me in a way that’s... distractingly handsome.

​Wait. Why is my heart doing that thumpy-drum thing? My stomach felt like it was full of caffeinated butterflies. Is it ginger ale? No. Is it chocolate? Probably not. I looked at him—I mean, really looked at him—and felt a wave of heat hit my face.

​Oh no. Why does the Tech Wizard have to look so hot in a hoodie?

Wait… I check my phone with my cycle tracker. Oh great , I am ovulating. That explains it. 

Come to think of it, it’s been a minute. I lost my V-card to an old co-worker back in the day, and I’ve had a few hookups here and there, but nothing Earth-shattering. Between Mom being a nurse (which means she’s basically a ghost who occasionally sleeps in our house) and Dad driving his truck across the country, I’ve had the place to myself a lot. But honestly? The guys were... fine. I mean, how good can a teenage boy really be? Most of them didn't have a clue what they were doing. I think I was more addicted to the thrill of sneaking around than the actual act.

​But then life happened. I got fired from the Foot-run shoe store, the Shredder tried to delete the world, Gram-Gram appeared, we saved the planet, I started college, future-boy dropped out of the sky, and then... the Krang.

​Yeah. "Busy" was an understatement. I haven't had a second to even think about my social life, let alone an actual date.

​But now? Things are finally cooling off. The world isn't currently ending (knock on wood), and I’m feeling... restless. I don't want a boyfriend; I want a distraction. A one-night stand. Professional, efficient, fun.

​So, naturally, I did what any modern woman does: I downloaded a dating app.

​I spent ten minutes taking some "I’m cute but I could also take you down in a fight" selfies, set up my profile, and selected 'Looking for a fun night.' Then, I started swiping.

​Swipe left. Swipe left. Ugh, definitely swipe left.

​I was halfway through judging a guy for his questionable choice in hats when I looked up from my phone at Donnie. He was still hunched over his tech, his brow furrowed in that super-intense way he gets when he’s solving a problem.

​Thump-thump.

​There went my heart again. Why was I looking for a "fun night" on an app when the most brilliant, chaotic, (and let’s be real, increasingly handsome) guy I knew was sitting five feet away?

​I looked back at my phone. Then at Donnie. Then back at the app.

​Great, I thought, tossing my phone onto the desk. I'm broken.

​April’s POV

​Why am I like this? First of all: Donnie would never. He doesn't see me like that. Second: Rule Number One of the Best Friend Handbook is you never hook up with your best friend. It ruins the routine! It ruins the vibe! It ruins everything!

​So, back to swiping. Except... my reporter brain wouldn't shut up. I mean, how would that even work? Donnie’s a mutant turtle—does he even have the same... anatomy? Or is it a whole different biological ballpark?

​I slapped myself across the face to get it together. Get a grip, O’Neil! You’re thinking like a total pervert!

​“Are you okay, April?” Donnie asked, looking up from his desk.

​I jumped, nearly dropping my phone. I must’ve slapped myself harder than I thought. I straightened my posture, feeling the heat rise to my face. On the bright side, being Black means my blush isn't always super obvious, but my cheeks felt like they were literally on fire.

​“Oh yeah! Never better! Fantastic! Stupendous!” I blurted out, talking way too fast. “What about you? What are you working on, Dee?”

​Donnie’s eyes shifted. He looked... nervous? He leaned over his screen, blocking my view. “Oh, this? This is just some... highly classified, personal research. Nothing of note! But hey, enough about my genius—what are you up to?”

​He was definitely dodging. Suspicious. But I had my own secrets to keep.

​“Nothing! Just... investigating a case for my journalism class,” I lied.

​“Oh, really? What’s the scoop?”

​Dang it. I knew he’d ask. I always tell him everything. I scrambled for a lead. “It’s, uh... there’s been a string of missing girls lately. I wanted to see if there was a bigger pattern at play.”

​It wasn't a total lie—there had been reports of girls vanishing, mostly teenagers or young adults. Donnie’s expression went from nervous to "Mission Mode" in a heartbeat.

​“A mystery? In my city? Not on my watch.” He started typing at light-speed. “Let’s see what the database says.”

​I leaned in close—way too close—to look at his monitors.

​Donnie’s POV

​I bypassed the police firewalls in seconds. Amateur encryption. Honestly, it’s insulting.

​“Looks like these girls are all teens or barely legal adults,” I noted, my eyes scanning the data streams. “Last seen with friends or getting ready for dates. They all have one thing in common: they were preparing to meet someone, and then—poof—vanished into the digital ether.”

​April leaned over my shoulder to get a better look. She was so close I could smell her hair, and it was becoming very difficult to maintain my cold, calculating exterior.

​“You’re right, Dee!” April chirped, her 'Detective Mind' firing on all cylinders. “I mean, it’s already a risk meeting a stranger for a date, but even the ones with friends? Do you think they’re being snatched off the street?”

​We dove into the surveillance footage. It was a dead end of the weirdest variety. Every girl went missing the same way: they’d enter a back alley, dressed for a party or a date, and then a strange, blinding light would flash. When the light faded, the alley was empty. The cameras didn't capture a struggle. No kidnapper. Just... light.

​“Well, it looks like we’ve hit a technological wall,” I said, leaning back and looking at April. “This is all the digital world has to offer.”

​April gave me that determined smile—the one that usually ends with someone getting hit with a baseball bat. “Then I guess I’ll have to start where the data leaves off.”

​She turned and rushed out of the lab, her mind already three steps ahead. But in her haste, she left her phone sitting right on my desk.

​“April! Your mobile telecommunication device!” I yelled, picking it up.

​Just as I grabbed it, the screen lit up with a notification. It wasn't a news alert. It wasn't a text from her mom.

​It was a DATING APP.

​My heart didn't just drop; it performed a catastrophic system failure. The notification read: “Mark liked your photo! He’d like to chat.”

​MARK?! “Mark?!” I hissed at the screen, my grip tightening on the casing. “You better UNLIKE that photo right now, Mark! I will find your IP address! I will delete your existence! Who even names their kid Mark anymore?!”

​I was mid-mental breakdown when April came sprinting back in. “Almost forgot!”

​I handed her the phone, my face frozen in a mask of "Everything is fine and I am not currently planning a cyber-war against a man named Mark."

​“Thanks, Dee! Bye!”

​She ran back out, and I was left standing in the silence of my lab, my thoughts spiraling into a purple-tinted vortex of jealousy.

(April POV)

​I spent the rest of the afternoon pounding the pavement. I had the list of the missing girls, and I wasn't about to wait for a press release. I went door-to-door, flashing my most professional "trust me" smile.

​"Hello! I’m April O’Neil, a journalism student over at T.C.R.I. Do you have a minute to talk about your daughter's case?"

​I talked to five different families today. Moms, dads, siblings—I heard it all. On the surface, they all gave me the same stories I’d seen in the police files. But my gut told me the police were missing the "teenage" angle. If you're a girl going to a party—and trust me, based on the surveillance footage, they weren't dressed for Sunday school—you aren't always honest with your parents.

​So, I tracked down the best friends. That’s where the real tea was spilled.

​Apparently, most of these girls weren't going to a "party" at all. They were sneaking out to meet an older guy they'd met online. They told their parents they were with friends to keep the heat off. Whoever this guy is, he’s a total creep, targeting teenagers and girls who just turned eighteen. He’s playing a game, and I’m about to end his high score.

​While I was walking from house to house, my phone was absolutely blowing up.

​Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.

​Every time I checked the screen, it was a new notification. Apparently, April O'Neil is a hot commodity in the digital dating world! I couldn't help but smirk. "Okay, okay, I see you, New York," I muttered to myself. I matched with a few of the less-creepy-looking ones and sent some quick replies while waiting for the bus. It was a nice ego boost after a long day of heavy interviews.

​The sun started to dip below the skyline, painting the city in that "Donnie-purple" twilight. With my notebook full of leads and my phone full of matches, I headed back to the lair to dump all this info on my favorite tech wizard.

Donnie’s POV

​I was vibrating. Not literally—though I do have a haptic feedback suit for that—but my brain was a chaotic mess of tabs. I had three different tracking programs running, all named PROJECT: DELETE MARK, when April finally strolled back into the lab.

​She looked triumphant. She also looked at her phone and giggled.

​My eye twitched. An actual, physical twitch. I knew exactly what that giggle meant. My sub-monitors were already intercepting the pings from her device. I couldn't let her know I was essentially wiretapping her social life, so I had to play it cool. Or, my version of cool, which is "High-Intensity Sarcasm."

​"Donnie! You will not believe what I found," she said, leaning against my desk. Her phone buzzed—a loud, obnoxious vrrrt-vrrrt—and she instinctively flipped it face-down on my desk like it was radioactive. "The police are looking in the wrong place. These girls weren't going to parties; they were meeting a guy they met online. A 'mystery man' who is definitely a Grade-A creep."

​Donnie’s POV

​"Ah, yes. Meeting people online," I began, spinning my chair with a flourish of pure, unadulterated condescension. "How dreadfully predictable. Truly, dating apps are the vermin of the app store. But for them to be the actual cause of these disappearances? It's almost cliché! Did you know that—" I paused for dramatic effect, pulling up a terrifying bar graph— "a statistically significant percentage of individuals go missing after meeting someone from a digital matching service?"

​I looked at her, hoping to see a flicker of fear. A shudder. Anything that would make her delete that digital plague and stop her from meeting someone like Mark in the future. See, Leo? I can change the timeline too!

​But April didn’t even flinch.

​"I know, right? Totally nuts," she said, her eyes glued to her screen. "And that’s exactly why I need your big, beautiful brain to help me find out who this creep is."

​Buzz-buzz.

​Her phone shook on the desk again. I lunged slightly, my goggles zooming in. "I’m happy to assist, but—not to be alarming—your phone is vibrating with the frequency of a malfunctioning blender. If you have a virus, or perhaps a localized digital infestation, I would be delighted to scrub it from your device. Permanently. With fire."

​April’s POV

​I looked down at my phone, a little smirk tugging at my lips. Kyle, Marcus, and two others were all blowing up my notifications. It was a nice change of pace from talking to sentient turtles and mutant rats.

​"Oh, this?" I waved a hand dismissively, still smiling at a particularly funny message. "Nah, Dee. Just talking to some friends I met recently."

​Donnie’s head tilted like a confused bird. "Friends? As in... plural? There’s more than one?"

​"Yep."

​"Funny," Donnie remarked, his voice dropping into that dangerously flat, 'I-am-being-judgmental' tone. "That is an awful lot of buzzing for one friend. Is this 'friend' an octopus? Are they texting with all eight tentacles?"

​"That’s because I’m talking to four of them. At once," I said, popping my 'p' for emphasis.

​"FOUR?!" Donnie’s voice cracked. I saw him turn back to his computer, his fingers hovering over the keys like he was about to launch a nuclear strike. "Four. Marvelous. I have to worry about four Marks now. Excellent."

​"What's that, Dee?"

​"Nothing!" he snapped, spinning back to me. "I just find it fascinating. I always thought you didn’t make friends easily—which is why you’re stuck with us! The weird mutant turtle family!"

​My eyebrow twitched. Oh, he did NOT just go there. I felt that little spark of O’Neil temper, but I kept my cool. I just put a hand on my hip and flashed him a sugary-sweet smile.

​"What can I say? I’m popular in college, Donnie. People actually like talking to me when I'm not carrying a flaming bat." I leaned over the desk, tapping his monitor. "Now, back to helping me save these girls, oh Great Tech Wizard. Or are you too busy counting my notifications?"

​Donnie let out a sound like a teapot reaching its boiling point, then turned back to his screen with a stiff, robotic huff.

30 minutes later

​"I looked into everything I could find, but nothing. It’s a total ghost town," Donnie said, his voice echoing off the metallic walls of the lab. He sounded frustrated, which usually meant he was about five seconds away from a dramatic monologue about the inferiority of modern encryption. "There was nothing about this guy. It's like he deletes his profiles the second he takes a girl. Recovering specific data from billions of users... it takes time, April."

​I sighed. I guess he was right. My job as a reporter gets a lot easier with a super-genius in my corner, but even Donnie has his limits.

​"See? That’s just another thing about dating apps," Donnie added, finally spinning his chair to face me. He had that 'I-told-you-so' glint in his goggles. "They don’t work. You just end up deleting them without ever meeting anyone. The data doesn’t lie."

​I felt my jaw tighten. This was starting to feel very targeted.

​"The app isn't the problem, Donnie," I snapped back, crossing my arms. "There are bad people everywhere. This guy would have messaged these girls through Instagram or TikTok, but he used dating apps because he's a predator."

​"To be fair," Donnie countered, his voice getting that high-and-mighty lilt, "young girls have no business being on dating apps anyway. These victims were sixteen to eighteen. They shouldn't be there, so he is targeting a certain kind of girl the ones that belive there was too matcher for there age they even can be there” 

​"You’re right, Donnie—he totally is!" I shook my head; it made way too much sense. "Okay, Dee, I’ll leave the tech levels to you. Scour the web for anything you can find while I head home to start a game plan to smoke this guy out."

​I sprinted out of the lab and headed straight for the apartment. As usual, the place was silent. Mom was on the night shift, probably sleeping off a long haul while I was supposed to be at school. I slipped into the bathroom to shower, but caught my naked reflection in the mirror and stopped.

​I never really cared much about my looks when it was just a random hookup. Men are simple—half of them will go for anything with a pulse. But now that I’ve been catching real feelings for someone, I can’t help but wonder. Is Donnie just not into me because of my body? I’m all limbs and no curves. No hips, no Boobs... Mom said I’d "fill out," but that day never came. It’s hard to feel attractive when every guy at school is loud about being a "boob guy" or an "ass guy." I don't fit the mold. I wonder if Donnie has a "type," and if I’m nowhere near it.

​I hopped in the shower, trying to shake the thought. Afterward, I retreated to my room and started scrolling through my messages. These guys were actually pretty funny—Maurice, Kyle, Mark, and Andrew. Maurice was the standout, though he was hot. I checked his Insta to make sure he wasn't a total catfish, and he looked legit.

​I was just about to send a risky text when my phone suddenly glitched. Donnie’s pixelated icon took over the screen.

​"Donnie says no-no-no. Donnie says no-no-no!" "Wait, what? Donnie?" I hit the call button immediately. He picked up on the first ring.

​"April! Hey! What’s up?" he said, his voice a little too casual.

​"Donnie, care to explain why my apps are crashing and your face is currently lecturing me from my home screen?!"

​"Oh, that? I decided to... curate your digital experience. Some of those apps are dangerous, April."

​"The hell they are! That app was fine!"

​"On the contrary," Donnie countered, his tone turning clinical. "Based on the data, a dating app is the last place you should be with a kidnapper on the loose."

​I rolled my eyes. He must have seen the notifications when I left my phone in the lab. "Oh, so you canceled my dating app for my 'safety'?"

​"The real question is... why are you even on a dating app, April?"

​"No reason! Why do you care?"

​"I... also for no reason!"

​"Fine. Then bring it back up."

​"No. It’s too dangerous. I am not restoring a gateway for you to just go out and find some random boyfriend."

​"You have got to be kidding me!" I was frustrated, honey, and honestly? A little lonely. If he wasn't into me, I might as well just shock him into leaving me alone. "Donnie, I wasn't looking for a boyfriend! Guys don't want a girl with no curves, no ass, or boobs for anything long-term, but they'll fuck anything that moves. I was just looking to get railed tonight. So, if you'll excuse me, I’m going to get back to that."

​I slammed the 'end call' button before he could utter a word.

​My phone started vibrating almost instantly—Donnie calling back—but I ignored it. I messaged Maurice on Insta and asked if he was free. Lucky me, he was. I threw on a yellow sundress, did my makeup, and grabbed my earrings. If Donnie didn't want me, I'd find someone who did.

Donnie’s POV

​“...I was only looking to get railed tonight, so if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to get back to that.”

​Click.

​The dial tone echoed in my ears, but my brain had effectively short-circuited. I stood frozen in the center of my lab, the glowing holographic displays casting a purple hue over my wide, unblinking eyes.

​"She... she did not just say that," I whispered to the empty room.

​I was completely, utterly gagged. My processor was whirring at maximum capacity, trying to compute the sheer volume of misinformation April had just spewed. No hips? No chest? Did she not realize that her silhouette was scientifically perfect? That her confidence was more attractive than any 'standard' the simpletons at her school could dream of? I loved her body exactly the way it was—every lean, athletic inch of it.

​But then, the second half of her sentence finally finished downloading into my brain.

​...looking to get railed tonight.

​"NO! NO, NO, NO!"

​My blood didn't just boil; it reached a state of supercritical fluid. The thought of some... some civilian named Mark putting his hands on her? Someone who didn't know her favorite flavor of juice, or her combat stats, or the way her laugh sounded when she was actually trying to be serious?

​She was planning to give away her virginity to a random person from a glitchy interface because she thought she wasn't enough?

​"S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N.!" I roared, grabbing my tech-bo staff and slamming my goggles down over my eyes. "Lock down the lab! Trace April’s GPS coordinates immediately! If she thinks I’m letting her go through with this illogical, reckless, and frankly insulting plan, she has severely underestimated my stubbornness!"

​I didn't care if I was overstepping. I didn't care if I looked insane. My jetpack flared to life, sparks showering the floor as I prepped for liftoff.

​"April O'Neil," I hissed through gritted teeth, "you are in for a very, very long lecture once I find you."

​I blasted out of the lair, a purple streak of righteous fury heading straight for the surface.

Chapter Text

Leo’s POV

​Casey and I were geared up and ready for a little "Master/Student" bonding time. I struck a pose, checking my reflection in the blade of my katanas.

"You ready, Casey?" ​"Ready, Sensei!" ​I sliced a glowing blue portal into the air. "Let’s go. Time to see what the future’s greatest warrior can actually do." ​We stepped out onto a secluded rooftop. "Okay, first things first," I said, spinning my sword. "My future self—the Legendary Leonardo—he trains you, right? I need to know the stats. Are we talking 'same level' or am I already surpassing his greatness?" ​"You're the strongest I know," Casey said immediately.

​"Really? I figured Raph would be the heavy hitter," I joked, but the laugh died in my throat when I saw his face. He looked... hollow. ​"I don't really remember him much," Casey whispered. "I told you, the future was... everyone was going.

Raph was the first to fall." ​My chest tightened. Ouch. My 'Leo-sense' for reading people was screaming that I’d just stepped in it. I felt like a total jerk for all those times I’d been a pain to my big brother. "Sorry, Case. I didn't mean to bring up the bad vibes. Raph’s fine now, okay? We’re gonna fix the future. Is he everything you thought he’d be?" ​Casey perked up.

"Oh yeah. Just like your stories. He’s that big, scary guy who’s actually a total teddy bear. But when he’s mad? Boy, is he terrifying." ​"Classic Raph. Now, let’s see if you can handle the present-day legend. Don’t hold back!" ​Two hours later. ​I wasn't even sweating. Okay, maybe a little, but mostly for style. I was reading Casey like an open book.

Every muscle twitch, every shift in his weight—it was like he was moving in slow motion. My 'Sherlock' brain was firing on all cylinders: Left foot back, weight shifting to the hip, shoulder tensing... he’s going for a high strike. Too predictable. ​I dodged his hit without even looking, then gave him a playful kick to the back of the knees to end the session.

Casey hit the roof with a groan, panting for air. ​"Aw man... I thought I had a chance," he huffed. "You're still untouchable, even as a teenager." ​Untouchable. I liked the sound of that. "Guess I’m just that good, Case! Now, get up. You’re too stiff. You fight like you're carrying the weight of the world—which, fair, you were—but you gotta be light. Strong, but fluid. We’re going roof-hopping, and I better see some style!" ​We started sprinting across the skyline. Casey was struggling to keep up. My 'Neon Leo' eyes noticed everything: the way he hesitated at high jumps, the way he stayed close to the shadows.

We stopped on a ledge so he could catch his breath. ​"You didn't do this much in the future, did you?" ​"Not for this long," Casey admitted. "We had to stay hidden. The Kraang had eyes everywhere. We only moved like this when we were escaping." ​Note to self: The future is a total buzzkill, I thought. ​I was scanned the street below when my 'Sherlock' vision locked onto a familiar silhouette. April. ​But it wasn't 'Ninja April.' She was wearing a yellow sundress, her hair was done—she looked good. "Look, Casey," I pointed. "Commander O'Neil is on a mission. A mission... for romance!" ​"A DATE?!" Casey gasped.

"That can't be! She's supposed to—" He slapped a hand over his mouth. ​"Supposed to what? Spill it, Future Boy." ​"I can't! The Butterfly Effect!" ​I rolled my eyes and looked back at April. She was meeting a guy with long black hair in a man-bun. Tall, tanned, stylish. "Dang, April got herself a hot date." ​"Should we leave her alone, Sensei?" Casey asked, looking uncomfortable. ​"Are you kidding? Rule number one of this family: if a sibling is on a date, we instigate, investigate, and accumulate teasing material for later." ​Suddenly, the air behind us didn't just move—it screamed. A massive gust of wind nearly knocked us off the roof.

Casey covered his eyes, but I knew that specific frequency of high-tech jet-engine whine anywhere. ​Donnie. ​He was hovering right above us, goggles down, looking like a gargoyle of pure tech-fury. He was staring straight at April’s date with a look that said 'I have calculated 400 ways to end your bloodline.' ​Before he could dive-bomb the restaurant, I lunged forward and grabbed his ankle. "Are you crazy, Dee?! You’re gonna blow our cover! There are civilians everywhere!" ​Donnie snapped his head toward me, looking genuinely stunned. "Wh-what—LEO?! What are you doing here?!" ​"Nope! No 'dodging the question' tonight, Tello. What are you doing?" ​"I was about to save April from committing the single greatest error of her life!" Donnie hissed, his mechanical spider-arms twitching violently. "That male specimen is a walking disaster!"

​Donnie’s POV

​I don’t know what Leo and Casey are doing here, but if they don’t unhand me this instant, I am going to lose what remains of my fragile sanity! I have to save April from making the single most catastrophic error of her sentient existence! ​"Okay, Donnie, deep breaths. In through the snout, out through the... whatever," Leo said, his hands firmly on my shoulders.

"What is going on? Is April in danger? Is there a Krang? A Shredder? A very aggressive squirrel?" ​I could see the flicker of concern in his eyes. Good. At least he recognized the gravity of this tactical nightmare. ​"She is in grave danger, Leon! She is about to sell her soul away! For what? A diversion? A momentary lapse in judgment?" I gestured wildly toward the restaurant window. ​

"Donnie!" Leo gave me a firm shake. "Focus! How is she in danger? She looks... totally fine from here. Actually, she looks like she’s enjoying those breadsticks." ​I glared at the restaurant. April was sitting across from him. She was laughing. She looked happy. Every time she smiled at that... that individual, my internal processors spiked into the red zone. ​"She is not fine! She thinks she is, but that man over there is a dinosaur! An ancient relic! A prehistoric predator ready to take advantage of her!" I was vibrating.

If I didn't get over there and extract her from that booth immediately, I was going to have a literal motherboard failure. ​"Donnie, I think you’re overreacting," Leo sighed. "She’s just on a date." ​"A date with destiny! Or disaster!" I took a sharp, jagged breath. "April was feeling—and I quote—'unattractive.' So she decided she’d just... hand over her maidenhood to this geriatric stranger just to feel something! We have to stop this biological catastrophe!" ​Leo froze. He looked at me, then at April, and then—to my utter horror—he started laughing. Not a giggle.

A full-on, Leo-style cackle. ​"Donnie," Leo wheezed, "April is a grown human. Also, I hate to break it to you, but she’s not doing what you think she’s doing." ​"And how would you know? Did you hear her? Did you analyze the subtext?" ​"Oh, please, tell me word-for-word what she said," Leo grinned, leaning against a chimney. ​"She said she wasn't on that dating app for a boyfriend, but she wanted to—and I quote—'lose the V-card' because she didn't have curves!" ​Leo’s laughter intensified, reaching a pitch that was frankly insulting. "Okay, first off, Donnie? She probably meant she’s looking for a fun night, not a marriage proposal.

Second? April has zero issues with her body. And third..." Leo paused, his face softening into a smirk. "She isn’t a virgin, Dee. She told me ages ago she handled that with an old co-worker. Said it was like a movie." ​"SHE WHAT?!" The world tilted. My sensors went dark. No. Impossible. She tells me everything! I’m the tech support! I’m the best friend! I... I thought... ​I turned back to the window. April was beaming, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. She was a human girl.

She was going to have a human life, a human family, and a human husband. And I? I was a 5-foot-something mutant turtle living in a literal sewer. ​The rage drained out of me, replaced by a cold, hollow vacuum in my chest. I tried to mask it with my usual intellectual bravado. "I may have... overestimated the threat level due to a localized lack of data," I muttered, my voice cracking just a syllable too much. ​Leo looked at me, his "Twin Sense" clearly tingling. Then he looked at Casey, who was standing there awkwardly, holding his hockey stick like a bouquet of flowers, looking like he’d just watched a tragic soap opera. ​"Casey," Leo said. ​"Yes, Sensei?" Casey straightened up instantly. ​"Give me and my twin some privacy? Go scout the next block." ​"Yes, Sensei!" Casey scrambled off to the next rooftop, though he kept glancing back like he wanted to offer a hug but didn't know the protocol. ​

"Yeah, Tello," Leo said, his voice dropping into that rare, soft tone he only used when things were truly bad. "What’s really wrong?" ​"Nothing! Everything is statistically perfect! Just a miscommunication! Also, why are you and Casey even out of the lair? It's past curfew!" ​Leo sighed. "Kid needed air. We were getting claustrophobic. But don't deflect, Dee. I can see right through the tech." ​I stayed silent. If I spoke, I was going to embarrass myself. ​"Is April... 'the girl'?" Leo asked. "The one we talked about? You know... that time?" ​I looked at him, stunned. Leo was usually about as observant as a brick, but sometimes he hit the bullseye with terrifying accuracy. I couldn't answer. I just slumped down against the brick ledge, pulling my knees to my chest. ​

"You know, Donnie... you're—" ​"A mutant turtle. I know," I snapped, cutting him off. I stared at my three-fingered hands. "I'm a biological anomaly. A monster in a shell." ​"I was going to say you're the smartest person in the world," Leo countered, sitting down next to me. "Honestly, it’s a good thing you were born a turtle. If you were human? God, it would be game over for everyone. You’d be too powerful." ​I let out a tiny, involuntary puff of a laugh. ​"But you're not just smart," Leo continued, bumping his shoulder against mine. "You're brave. You have an impeccable—if slightly dramatic—fashion sense. You're a total Iron Man. And yeah, you're green, but look at that face! You’re a handsome guy, Dee. Even without the hair." ​I was actually giggling now.

How does he do that? How is he so annoying yet so good at this? ​"Any girl—mutant, human, or alien—would be lucky to have the great Donatello," Leo began poking me in the ribs with every title. "Tech genius! Saver of the world! Two-time champion! Master of the lab! Best dancer in the family!" ​"Okay, okay! Stop!" I laughed, swatting his hands away. ​"I'm serious," Leo said, his grin widening into that signature toothy smile. "Anyone would be lucky to get a piece of this." ​I looked at him, feeling the weight in my chest finally lift. I reached out, grabbed him by his gear, and pulled him into a crushing hug. ​

"Thank you, Nardo," I muttered into his shoulder. ​He squeezed back just as tight. "Anytime, Tello. Anytime."

Donnie’s POV

​Leo had finally stopped poking me, but the emotional residue of the moment still felt… sticky. I was adjusting my battle shell when Casey scrambled back onto our roof, looking like he had been vibrating in place for the last five minutes. ​"Is the coast clear?" Casey asked, eyes darting between me and Leo. "Is the… emotional crisis averted?" ​"Averted and archived," I said, smoothing out my purple bandana with a sniff. "I am back to my usual state of cold, calculated indifference." ​"He was crying," Leo whispered loudly. ​"I was leaking ocular fluid due to stress-testing my tear ducts!" I snapped. ​Leo chuckled and stood up, patting Casey on the shoulder. "I’m gonna go grab some sodas from that vending machine downstairs. Casey, keep an eye on him. Don't let him build a 'Love-Is-Dead-Bot' while I’m gone." ​As Leo flipped off the roof, an awkward silence settled over us. Casey was staring at me. Not just a glance—a full, unblinking, intense stare that made me feel like a specimen under a microscope. ​

"Can I help you, Casey? Is there something on my face? Is it a lack of eyebrows? I’m aware of the deficit." ​"No! No, Master Donatello," Casey said quickly, waving his hands. He cleared his throat and stepped closer, looking incredibly uncomfortable. "It’s just… in my time, you were… well, you weren't exactly 'unlucky in love.' Quite the opposite.

You and April were—" ​He cut himself off, turning a bright shade of red. ​"Me and April were what?" I asked, my heart doing a weird little kick-flip. ​"I can't say! Spoilers! Time-travel etiquette!" Casey squeaked. He took a deep breath, trying to channel some of Leo’s confidence and failing miserably. "But look, as your… tactical romantic consultant… I have advice." ​I arched a non-existent brow.

"Advice? From you? You spend your free time cleaning a hockey mask with a toothbrush." ​"Just listen!" Casey insisted. "You're worried because she’s on a date with a human. But you’re thinking too small, Donnie. You're thinking in terms of 'species' and 'physics.' But April I know? She doesn't care about 'normal.' She likes chaos. She likes the… genius." ​He paced back and forth, looking physically pained by how much he had to hide. ​"In the future, you didn't win her over by acting like a human.

You won her over by being the guy who built her a jetpack because she mentioned her feet were tired. You were the guy who stayed up all night recalibrating the city's power grid just so her favorite coffee shop wouldn't lose electricity during a blackout." ​I blinked. "I did that? I mean… I would do that. That is a very efficient use of my talents." ​"Exactly!" Casey pointed a finger at me. "Stop looking at that guy in the restaurant. He’s boring! He probably talks about… I don't know, taxes and fiber intake. You’re a mutant turtle genius who fights gods! Just… be the guy who’s always there when she needs a portal or a plasma cannon.

The rest takes care of itself." ​Casey looked incredibly proud of himself, even though he looked like he was about to pass out from the stress of not shouting, 'YOU GUYS HAVE A GORGEOUS WEDDING IN THREE YEARS!' ​"So," I said slowly, a small, genuine smirk forming on my face.

"You’re saying I should focus on my intellectual superiority and gadgetry?" ​"I’m saying be yourself," Casey said, his voice softening with a hint of nostalgia. "Because 'yourself' is exactly what she’s looking for. Even if she doesn't know it yet tonight." ​I looked back down at the restaurant.

April was laughing again, but for the first time tonight, I didn't feel like I was disappearing. I felt like a protagonist waiting. ​"Casey?" ​"Yes, Master Donatello?" ​"You’re a weird kid. But your data-mining on human emotion is… surprisingly adequate." ​Casey beamed, looking like he’d just won a medal.

"Thanks, Donnie. Now, please don't tell Leo I gave you romantic advice. He’ll never let me hear the end of it.” ​"For the sake of both of us, I will do no such thing," I muttered, my mind already whirring at overclocked speeds. ​A chance. A literal, statistical, future-verified chance! I am going to do it.

I am going to confess my feelings. The next time the atmosphere is optimal and my heart rate is below 150, I’m going for it. Why is this scarier than facing a Shredder-possessed armor? It’s a binary outcome: either the greatest triumph of my life or a social disaster so potent I’ll have to move to the moon. ​I glanced back at the restaurant. April and the "Ancient One" were leaving. It still pinched—a sharp, annoying bit of code in my chest—to see her walking with him. But if Casey’s future-intel was accurate... I suppose I can tolerate this guy for one night.

He’s just a placeholder in the grand timeline of Donatello and April. ​"Okay, kids! Bonding time is over, hydration time is here!" Leo announced, dropping back onto the roof. He held out three sodas like they were Olympic gold medals. ​"Casey, have you ever actually had a soda?" Leo asked, popping the cap for him with a flourish.

I grabbed mine, the cold condensation soothing my frantic palms. ​"Only once," Casey said, staring at the bottle like it was a holy relic. "It was three years expired and tasted like battery acid, but it was amazing. Best day of that month." ​"Well, this one is fresh. Try not to see through time," Leo joked. ​Casey took a sip. His eyes didn't just widen; they practically decoupled from his skull. ​"This... this is HEAVEN!" Casey shrieked. Then, without warning, the poor kid started sobbing. Real, fat tears of sugary joy. "It's so... bubbly! Why is it bubbly?!" ​"Let it out, Case," Leo said, patting his back with a smirk. "Let the carbonation wash away the trauma." ​I took a long, satisfying sip of my own drink, feeling the sugar hit my system.

For a moment, it was peaceful. The city was glowing, my brother was being a dork, and my future was— ​"AAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!" ​The scream pierced the night air like a jagged blade.

My heart stopped. My sensors didn't even need to triangulate the source. ​"April," I breathed, the soda bottle nearly slipping from my grip. ​My protective protocols didn't just kick in; they exploded.

The "cool and collected" Donnie I had been practicing for the last five minutes vanished, replaced by the frantic, high-pitched genius who would level a city block for that girl. ​"That was her! That was the O'Neil distress signal!" I yelled, my tech-bo already sliding into my hands. "If that man has done anything to her, I will personally ensure he spends the rest of his life as a digital upload in a calculator!" ​"Donnie, wait!" Leo shouted, his "Leader Mode" finally snapping on. "Casey, finish your soda—we’ve got a damsel to de-distress!"

Chapter Text

Donnie POV 

​"April!!" I shrieked, my voice hitting a frequency that probably shattered windows three blocks away.

​We hit the pavement running. I saw her—April was swinging her purse with the tactical precision of a mace, landing a solid blow to the guy's shoulder. She’s a warrior, a queen, a goddess of self-defense! But then he grabbed her arm, his grip tightening as he tried to drag her into the shadows of a narrow alley.

​My blood turned to liquid nitrogen. "Unhand her, you biological relic!"

​The man’s head snapped toward us. He didn't look scared; he looked... prepared. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, ornate vial. Before I could fire a capture-net, he smashed it on the ground.

​FLASH.

​A blinding, violet light erupted, searing my retinas. I hissed, shielding my eyes with my forearm. When the purple spots finally cleared from my vision, the alley was empty. Just a lingering scent of ozone and expensive cologne.

​"Where did they go?!" I roared, spinning in a circle, my bo-staff sparking with agitated energy. "Where is she?!"

​"Donnie, focus!" Leo yelled, hand on his sword hilt. "You still have that tracker on her? The one you swore you'd stop using because it was 'creepy'?"

​"Yes! And thank my paranoid genius that I didn't listen to your ethical concerns!" I pulled up my gauntlet, my fingers flying across the holographic interface. "Scanning... tracing the signature... Got it! But the signal isn't on the surface. They’ve crossed the barrier. They're in the Hidden City!"

​Leo’s face went grim. "Okay, track the location. I’m calling the others."

​He tapped his comms, and within seconds, Raph’s voice exploded out of the speaker so loudly the tech rattled.

​"APRIL'S BEEN WHAT?! WHAT ARE YOU GUYS EVEN DOING OUT?! LEO, YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO BE RECOVERING! DO I HAVE TO CHAIN YOU TO YOUR BED?!"

​"Raph, buddy, big guy, let’s keep the blood pressure in the double digits," Leo tried to soothe him, but he was interrupted by a sound that could only be described as a tectonic plate shifting.

​Casey stumbled over to us, clutching his midsection. His face was a sickly shade of pale. He opened his mouth to speak, but instead, he released a burp so long and resonant that it echoed off the skyscraper walls for a solid six seconds.

​"Whoa... oh, nice one, Case!" Leo grinned, looking genuinely impressed. "That’s some championship-level carbonation right there."

​"IS THAT CASEY? LEO, DID YOU DRAG CASEY INTO YOUR RULE-BREAKING REBELLION?!" Raph screamed through the comms.

​"No, Master Raphael!" Casey squeaked, grabbing Leo’s wrist to steady himself while still looking like he might vibrate out of existence. "I wanted to go! I pushed for the fresh air! It was my tactical decision!"

​"DON'T DEFEND HIM, CASEY!"

​"I'M NOT! IT'S THE TRUTH!"

​"GUYS! APRIL!" I screamed, my patience finally hitting zero. "My best friend—and future everything—is currently being held captive by a Yokai kidnapper, and you're arguing about curfews and soda-gas?! FOCUS!"

​The comms went silent for a beat.

​"Right," Leo said, his voice finally serious. "Raph, Donnie is sending the coordinates. We’ll meet you at the Hidden City entrance. Move it!"

​"Fine," Raph grumbled, though I could hear him already running. "But we are SO talking about this later!"

I didn't care about "later." I only cared about the blinking red dot on my map. Hold on, April, I whispered to the empty air, my thumb hovering over the 'maximum overdrive' button on my shell. The genius is coming for you.

​We reached the coordinates: a warehouse. It looked like a normal, boring, human warehouse, but my heart was wilting with worry. Why did this feel so different? April has been in trouble a million times, but usually, it was a mutant or a robot—something I could disassemble with a wrench. But this was a creep. A man who kidnapped young women. If he touches even a single hair on her head, I swear on my latest prototype, I will chop him into a million pieces and bury him where the sun will never find him.

​"WHERE ARE RAPH AND MIKEY?!" I hissed. "They're taking too long! We’re wasting time!"

​"Leo, we should just go in," I urged, grabbing his arm. "Need I remind you that this guy is a predator? Who knows what he’s doing to them right now?"

​Leo looked hesitant, but as I dumped the data—every sickening detail April had gathered about this case—I saw the color drain from his face. He was finally seeing the horror I was seeing.

​"Donnie, we need the others," Leo said, his voice tight. "Did you see that guy’s face back there? He wasn't surprised to see us. It’s a trap. Based on what you said, April’s been investigating this for like what? A day. He probably let her get close just to lure us in. This is planned. We have to be careful."

​Darn it! I hate it when Leo makes sense! But my pulse was a frantic rhythm in my ears. "I can’t just wait around, Leo! I’m going in. The others can be backed up!"

​"Donnie, no!"

​I didn't listen. I slipped away before he could grab me, scaling the wall and squeezing through a small side window. I dropped into the shadows, looking around. It looked... normal. Way too normal. It looked like an Amazon fulfillment center—rows of boxes, labels, and conveyor belts.

​Suddenly, a hand touched my shoulder. I spun, my tech-bo whistling through the air with lethal intent, but Leo’s hand shot out, catching it just before it crushed his skull.

​"Leo?!" I whispered harshly. "What are you doing?"

​"Easy there, brother of mine," he whispered back, letting go of the staff. "Try not to hurt the help."

​"Where’s Casey?"

​"I left him outside to explain the situation to Raph and Mikey. He’s the only one who can talk Raph down from a total meltdown right now."

​That made sense. "Okay. Now, where is April?" I checked my gauntlet. "This way. Follow me."

​We sneaked through the warehouse, dodging shadows. My eyes scanned the crates. Destination: International Waters. My stomach did a somersault. These weren't just boxes; they were shipments. They were going to ship April off to some other creep across the world!

​We reached two massive double doors. I checked the GPS, the red dot pulsing right on top of us. "She’s behind these doors," I told Leo.

​Leo nodded, stepping forward to open them carefully. He reached for the handle, his body tensed for a fight, but the second the latch clicked, the world vanished.

​The floor didn't just open; it disintegrated. One second we were standing on solid concrete, and the next, we were plummeting.

​"LEO—!"

​I reached out, but there was nothing to grab. The darkness rushed up to meet us, and then, everything went black.

Raph POV

​I was already irritated. Leo knows the rules: we’re still in recovery! Sure, the wounds have closed, but my skills are glitchier than Donnie’s first-gen tech. Earlier today was proof enough—I missed a jump, hit a stop sign with my face, and almost plummeted five stories. If I wasn't used to being a literal wrecking ball, I’d be in a hospital bed right now. Losing an eye really messes with your depth perception, and it’s ticking me off.

​Even Mikey’s struggling. His spirit is as wild as ever, but his wrists and hands don't have the same grip strength yet. He’ll go for a flashy vault and his hands just… give out. He’s trying to play it cool, but I see it.

​When we finally got to the location Donnie sent, they were gone. Only Casey was there, looking like he’d been through a blender of emotions.

​"Master Raphael! Master Michelangelo! You're here!"

​"Okay, first rule of the present: no 'Master' stuff. Just Mikey! Dr. Delicate Touch is in the house!" Mikey said, flaring his arms around like he was trying to shake the jitters out.

​"Hey, Casey. Where are the blue and purple idiots?" I asked, giving his head a firm, protective pat. The kid’s a good soldier—polite, disciplined, nothing like his mom.

​"They already went inside," Casey said, looking worried.

​"THEY DID WHAT?!" I roared. Why can’t they just wait for the muscle?!

​Casey scrambled to explain. Apparently, Leo and he needed "fresh air," ran into Donnie trying to crash April’s date, and then things went south.

​"Oooooh, April was on a da-ate?" Mikey leaned in, his eyes wide and nosy. "Was he cute? Did he have a chin? Donnie hates it when they have chins!"

​"Casey said he turned out to be a bad guy, Mikey," I grunted. "A creep who kidnaps young women. Donnie and April have been tracking him."

​My shell tightened. That changed everything. This wasn't just a mutant scuffle; this was a monster.

​"Well, what are we waiting for?" I cracked my knuckles, the sound echoing like gunshots. "Let’s go save April from this creep!"

​"Oh yeah! It’s butt-kicking time! Get ready for a face-full of 'The Michaelangelo'!" Mikey cheered, though he was already glancing nervously at the dark building.

​"Masters, wait!" Casey called out, but I was already charging. My brothers were in there, and they needed their big brother. I smashed through the front doors with a satisfying CRUNCH, Mikey right on my heels.

​"Okay, creep! Hand over April and—"

​The room was silent.

​It wasn't a dungeon. It looked like a high-tech shipping center. Robots—dull, mindless machines—were moving packages along conveyor belts. They didn't even look at us.

​"Where are they?" Casey asked, catching up and looking around the vast, empty space.

​"Guys, I don't like this. This place gives me the major heebie-jeebies," Mikey whispered, his voice going up an octave. "It’s too clean. Evil shouldn't be this organized!"

​"I mean, if a creep lives here, it’s gonna have a creepy vibe," I said, stepping further into the dim light. Mikey immediately latched onto Casey’s arm like a terrified toddler. Casey looked down at the hand on his bicep with a confused expression, like he was thinking, 'Aren't you the one who can throw buildings?'

​"We should split up," I commanded. "Start looking for a basement or a hidden door."

​"What?! NO!" Mikey shrieked, gripping Casey even tighter. "Raph! That is how people die in horror movies! The big guy goes one way, the cute sidekick goes the other, and bam! Credits roll over our corpses! No splitting! Never split!"

​"Fine! You and Casey stay together on the left. I’ll take the right."

​They started shuffling off, Mikey scanning every shadow like it was a ghost. I headed toward the second floor. The higher I went, the more the back of my neck prickled. That feeling... like someone’s staring at you through a sniper scope.

​I reached a storage room filled with massive machinery—the kind used for heavy lifting in construction. The "being watched" feeling intensified.

​"I know you're there!" I yelled at the empty room. Nothing. Just the hum of the warehouse.

​I spotted a security camera in the corner. SMASH. Then another. CRUNCH. "There. You want to watch me? Come out and do it to my face!"

​The feeling didn't go away. If anything, it got heavier. I kept spinning around, ready to throw a punch, but there was nothing but shadows and crates. This was getting really, really annoying.

​I was already irate. Leo knows the rules: we’re still in recovery! Sure, the wounds have closed, but my skills are glitchier than Donnie’s first-gen tech. Earlier today was proof enough—I missed a jump, hit a stop sign with my face, and almost plummeted five stories. If I wasn't used to being a literal wrecking ball, I’d be in a hospital bed right now. Losing an eye really messes with your depth perception, and it’s ticking me off.

​Even Mikey’s struggling. His spirit is as wild as ever, but his wrists and hands don't have the same grip strength yet. He’ll go for a flashy vault and his hands just… give out. He’s trying to play it cool, but I see it.

​When we finally got to the location Donnie sent, they were gone. Only Casey was there, looking like he’d been through a blender of emotions.

​"Master Raphael! Master Michelangelo! You're here!"

​"Okay, first rule of the present: no 'Master' stuff. Just Mikey! Dr. Delicate Touch is in the house!" Mikey said, flaring his arms around like he was trying to shake the jitters out.

​"Hey, Casey. Where are the blue and purple idiots?" I asked, giving his head a firm, protective pat. The kid’s a good soldier—polite, disciplined, nothing like his mom.

​"They already went inside," Casey said, looking worried.

​"THEY DID WHAT?!" I roared. Why can’t they just wait for the muscle?!

​Casey scrambled to explain. Apparently, Leo and he needed "fresh air," ran into Donnie trying to crash April’s date, and then things went south.

​"Oooooh, April was on a da-ate?" Mikey leaned in, his eyes wide and nosy. "Was he cute? Did he have a chin? Donnie hates it when they have chins!"

​"Casey said he turned out to be a bad guy, Mikey," I grunted. "A creep who kidnaps young women. Donnie and April have been tracking him."

​My shell tightened. That changed everything. This wasn't just a mutant scuffle; this was a monster.

​"Well, what are we waiting for?" I cracked my knuckles, the sound echoing like gunshots. "Let’s go save April from this creep!"

​"Oh yeah! It’s butt-kicking time! Get ready for a face-full of 'The Michaelangelo'!" Mikey cheered, though he was already glancing nervously at the dark building.

​"Masters, wait!" Casey called out, but I was already charging. My brothers were in there, and they needed their big brother. I smashed through the front doors with a satisfying CRUNCH, Mikey right on my heels.

​"Okay, creep! Hand over April and—"

​The room was silent.

​It wasn't a dungeon. It looked like a high-tech shipping center. Robots—dull, mindless machines—were moving packages along conveyor belts. They didn't even look at us.

​"Where are they?" Casey asked, catching up and looking around the vast, empty space.

​"Guys, I don't like this. This place gives me the major heebie-jeebies," Mikey whispered, his voice going up an octave. "It’s too clean. Evil shouldn't be this organized!"

​"I mean, if a creep lives here, it’s gonna have a creepy vibe," I said, stepping further into the dim light. Mikey immediately latched onto Casey’s arm like a terrified toddler. Casey looked down at the hand on his bicep with a confused expression, like he was thinking, 'Aren't you the one who can throw buildings?'

​"We should split up," I commanded. "Start looking for a basement or a hidden door."

​"What?! NO!" Mikey shrieked, gripping Casey even tighter. "Raph! That is how people die in horror movies! The big guy goes one way, the cute sidekick goes the other, and bam! Credits roll over our corpses! No splitting! Never split!"

​"Fine! You and Casey stay together on the left. I’ll take the right."

​They started shuffling off, Mikey scanning every shadow like it was a ghost. I headed toward the second floor. The higher I went, the more the back of my neck prickled. That feeling... like someone’s staring at you through a sniper scope.

​I reached a storage room filled with massive machinery—the kind used for heavy lifting in construction. The "being watched" feeling intensified.

​"I know you're there!" I yelled at the empty room. Nothing. Just the hum of the warehouse.

​I spotted a security camera in the corner. SMASH. Then another. CRUNCH. "There. You want to watch me? Come out and do it to my face!"

​The feeling didn't go away. If anything, it got heavier. I kept spinning around, ready to throw a punch, but there was nothing but shadows and crates. This was getting really, really annoying.

Leo POV

​The fall was an eternity of rushing wind and stomach-turning vertigo. When we finally hit the floor, the impact rattled my teeth and sent a white-hot spike of pain through my chest. My ribs screamed a reminder that I was not 100% recovered.

​I groaned, blinking away the stars. The hatch above had slammed shut, sealing us in a deep, circular tunnel.

​"Dee? Are you still in one piece?"

​Donnie was clutching his head, his goggles lopsided. "My brain is currently doing a 360-degree rotation inside my skull, so... status: suboptimal." He shook himself off and checked his gauntlet. "The tracker signal is being jammed. We’re in a dead zone, Leon."

​"Great. Just great." I pulled my katanas, the twin blades humming with a faint blue light. "Only one way to go. Stay sharp."

​We moved through the tunnel, which was inexplicably lit by flickering torches—very 'dungeon-chic.' We walked until the stone gave way to a massive, dizzying arena. It was a perfect, smooth cylinder, stretching up into the darkness and dropping into a bottomless pit below. We were standing on a narrow, circular catwalk that hugged the wall. 

​"Donnie, have any idea what this is?" I asked, my voice echoing back at me.

​"No idea, Leon," Donnie muttered. He was clicking through his goggles, trying to find a signal that didn't exist. "But the architecture suggests an 'Execution Chamber.' It’s built for a crowd to watch someone... well, stop being a someone."

​Clang. Spark. Clang.

​The sound of metal dragging against metal drifted down from the heights. We looked up, and my heart did a cold somersault.

​A figure was descending the vertical wall like it was a flat sidewalk. He was a massive alligator mutant, but he didn't look like a mindless beast. He looked like a professional. His scales were a dark, stony grey, and long,Scarlxrd dreadlocks that go up to his brows on longer in the back whipped behind him like living shadows. A tactical mask covered the lower half of his face, making him look like a silent, reptilian ninja.

​He was dressed like a wasteland punk: ripped denim and a tattered leather vest that sat open, revealing a set of hard, sculpted abs that looked like they were made of iron. He swung a Kusarigama—a heavy chain-sickle—and with every rotation, the blade bit into the metal wall, showering the abyss with sparks.

​"Okay," I whispered, my grip tightening on my katanas. "Scary level? Eleven. He looks like he’s here to collect a bounty, and I have a feeling we’re the target."

​Without a word, the alligator launched himself.

​The chain hissed through the air like a viper. I saw the blurred reflection of the blade in my own steel—it was aimed right for my neck. My lightning-speed reflexes kicked in, and I ducked just as the blade whistled a hair’s breadth above my head. As the chain wrapped around a support beam, I lunged forward, grabbing the cold metal links and yanking with everything I had to pull him off balance.

​The brute landed with a heavy thud, his golden eyes narrowing. He didn't look frustrated; he looked amused. He bowed, a quick, mocking tilt of the head, and then he exploded toward us.

​Donnie stepped in, swinging his tech-bo in a wide arc. "Get back, you oversized handbag!"

​The alligator didn't even flinch. He moved with a grace that shouldn't be possible for someone that big. He ducked under the staff, caught Donnie in the chest with a massive, scaled boot, and sent him flying toward the edge of the catwalk.

​"DONNIE!"

​Donnie plummeted over the railing, but his mechanical arms shot out of his shell, clattering and sparking as they clamped onto a ledge a few feet down. I didn't have time to help him—the chain was already coming for me again.

​He kicked my legs out from under me, and before I could recover, he whipped the Kusarigama around my torso, the chain tightening and making me spin until I slammed hard onto the metal floor. My katanas slid away—one of them landing right at his feet.

​I scrambled to get up, but he stood over me, the heavy sickle dripping with sparks. This was it. I was disarmed, winded, and trapped.

​But he didn't strike.

​He looked at the blade near his toe, then looked at me. With a casual, effortless flick of his tail, he kicked the katana back toward my hand. He stepped back, spinning his weapon in a mesmerizing, lethal circle, and waited.

​He wasn't just a killer—he was a hunter who wanted the sport of the kill. He was mocking me. He wanted me at my best just so he could break me.

​I grabbed my blade, sliding back into a low stance. My blue portal energy began to flicker around my heels, lighting up the dark tunnel. I wiped a smudge of blood from my lip, my eyes turning cold.

​"Okay, big guy," I breathed, my heart hammering a war-drum against my ribs. "You want a show? I’ll give you a show."

​I lunged, my blade trailing a streak of blue light as our weapons collided in a deafening explosion of sparks. The real fight had just begun. 

​I lunged at him, my katana raised high for a strike he definitely expected. He swung his Kusarigama to parry, the chain whistling through the air to catch my blade—but I wasn't there anymore.

​ZAP.

​Mid-swing, I flared my blue portal magic. The world blurred for a fraction of a second, and I materialized directly beside his blind spot. Before he could even shift his weight, I was a whirlwind of steel and blue light. I slammed the hilt of my blade into his ribs and swept his legs with a precision that sent the massive alligator crashing into the metal floor.

​I didn't stop. I pinned him for a heartbeat, my blade hovering inches from his throat, the blue energy humming with a dangerous, electric crackle.

​I wanted him to see it in my eyes. I wasn't some scared kid lost in a warehouse. I was a ninja. I was a leader. And I was definitely not someone he could toy with.

​Then, I did the one thing he didn't expect. I pulled back.

​I stood up, spinning my katana once before sheathing it halfway with a sharp clink. I stepped back, mimicking his exact stance from moments ago—casual, confident, and completely unimpressed. I gave him a cocky tilt of my head, throwing his own "sporting" gesture right back in his face.

​I'm not just staying in this fight, big guy. I'm winning it.

​The alligator stayed on the ground for a second, staring at me. Then, a sound rumbled from his chest. It wasn't the screech of a monster or the cold hiss of the Shredder. It was a laugh. A deep, gravelly, belly-shaking laugh that echoed off the circular walls.

​He didn't sound angry. He sounded... impressed. Like he’d finally found someone worth his time.

​"Funny," he grumbled, his voice like grinding deep stones as he pushed himself up, dusting off his leather vest. He didn't immediately reach for his weapon. He just looked at me with a newfound glint in his golden eyes. "Most people just scream when I drop in. You... you’ve got a bite, Little Blue."

​I didn't drop my guard. "I’ve got more than bite, Gator-man. I’ve got a very short fuse when it comes to people kidnapping my friends. Now, you're gonna tell us who you’re working for, or do I have to get creative with the portals again?"

​"I don't believe in being threatened," he said. His voice was incredibly casual, like we were discussing the weather instead of the fact that I just had a blade to his throat. He leaned back, his hard abs rippling as he relaxed his posture.

​"Oh yeah?" I spat, not lowering my swords. "But you do believe in kidnapping young girls, don't you? Real brave, Gator-man."

​Just then, Donnie scrambled back onto the catwalk, his mechanical spider-arms clicking furiously as they retracted into his shell. He looked ready to unleash a technological apocalypse.

​"Okay, now I’m gonna show you—" Donnie started, his eyes glowing behind his goggles, but then he stopped dead, looking at the two of us standing there in a weirdly respectful stalemate. "Wait. Why is no one bleeding? I was prepared for bleeding!"

​The alligator let out another one of those deep, rumbling laughs. He looked at us with a smirk that said he knew something we didn't.

​"I don't believe in kidnapping the weak," he stated firmly. He stood tall, looking every bit the "main character" with those scarred dreadlocks and that edgy, street-punk vest.

​"Okay, then who kidnapped April if you so call don't believe in it?!" I demanded. "Because she’s behind those doors, and you’re the one standing in our way!"

​He didn't answer right away. Instead, he leaned back against the curved wall, looked up at the ceiling, and stuck a clawed finger into his ear, tapping a small, hidden comms piece.

​"Hey, V?" he said, his tone shifting to something almost playful. "I think you’re gonna like this one. Blue’s got a real mouth on him. He’s got that... what do the humans call it? Main character energy."

​V? Who the heck is V?

​Before I could ask, the alligator pushed off the wall. He started moving his hands in a complex, rhythmic circle. It wasn't like my portals—this was different. Bright, golden-yellow light began to spark from his fingertips, spinning into a glowing ring of mystic energy that hissed like a live wire.

​"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Donnie yelled, pulling out a scanner. "That’s not tech! That’s high-level mystic signature! Leon, get back!"

​"See ya on the other side, Little Blue," the alligator grinned.

​He slammed his palms together. The yellow light exploded, filling my vision until everything was a searing, golden blur. There was a loud PUFF, the smell of ozone and old books, and then the floor vanished again.

​When my vision cleared, we weren't in the tunnel anymore. The cold metal was gone. We were standing in a room that looked like a high-end loft mixed with a sorcerer’s sanctum.

​"Donnie?" I croaked, looking around. "I don't think we're in Kansas—or the Amazon warehouse—anymore."

Chapter Text

April POV 

​I woke up in a room that smelled like cold iron and bad decisions. I was behind metal bars, my head throbbing. Standing right there—looking entirely too comfortable—was my "date."

​"Okay, spill it," I barked, grabbing the bars. "Who are you, why am I in a cage, and where are the other women? Explain yourself before I make you regret ever downloading that app!"

​The guy looked at me with a faked expression of heartbreak. "I had fun on our date, April. Really. But I’m afraid I haven't been entirely honest with you."

​"Oh, you think?! You kidnapped me! What are you, a serial killer? A predator?"

​"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Pump the hate-breaks, girly-pop," he said with a chillingly controlled ease. He laughed, a sound that felt way too smooth. "I’ve never done anything like that. I might kill a person here or there, but that doesn't make me a serial killer. I’m a professional assassin."

​"Great. A professional creep."

​"But," he continued, leaning in. "I am the ultimate catfish. I’m not even a man."

​He reached for a necklace—some kind of mystic glamour tech—and unclipped it. My jaw hit the floor.

​The man vanished in a blur of light, and standing there was... honestly? The most beautiful woman I had ever seen. She had this "Dark Feminine" aura that felt like it was radiating off her in waves. A snatched jawline and she had a perfect peach shape, with wide, powerful hips and a build that looked solid and dangerous.

​Her hair was jet black, cut into a hush-cut with just the tiniest bit of curl—the kind where you can't tell if it's a natural wave or just the layers playing tricks on your eyes. But it was her eyes that really got me. They were the deepest, darkest shade of black an eye could possibly be, framed by lashes so long they looked like they could be lethal weapons. She was a little shorter than me, a light-skinned Latina with a silent confidence that made me feel totally insecure.

​"I know," she said, her voice now a smooth, girly lilt. "I'm gorgeous. It's a fact."

​"Wait!" I stammered. "You're a girl?! This whole time?!"

​"Guilty," she said, smiling. But there was malice behind it. She looked like the game master of the universe.

​"Okay, fine, you're a girl," I snapped. "But why are you kidnapping young women? What's the end game?"

​She tilted her head. "Oh, that? That wasn't us."

​Us?

​"We just saw that you were assigned to the case and thought we'd lead you in. But then LD—our resident alligator punk—saw your profile on that dating app. He's on there a lot. So, we all made profiles. Those four guys you were texting? That was us. We made it a game to see who you’d pick. Surprise! I won."

​I felt utterly, undeniably catfished. "Fine. Why do you need me?"

​Her voice dropped, becoming something cold and menacing. "Oh, it’s not you we need, April. They see you as a sister, right? They'll be coming for you."

​"Why do you want them?" I asked, the fear for the guys finally overriding my anger.

​"Oh, it's not us who wants them," she whispered.

​"Would you stop with the riddles and just tell me?!" I yelled. God, this girl had a flair for the dramatic.

​She giggled—a tiny, girly, evil sound. "Why would I spoil the surprise?"

​Suddenly, a deep voice crackled from her earpiece. She must have forgotten to switch it to silent.

​"Hey, V?" He must be the guy she talked about . 

​she grabbed her earpiece, her eyes lighting up. "Que passó, LD?”she said in Spanish 

"I think you’re gonna like this one. Blue’s got a real mouth on him. He’s got that... What do humans call it? Main character energy." She listened for a second, then smiled—all teeth. "Oh, really? I have to see that for myself. Take them to where Lisa is and show me."

​She switched the comm to silent and looked back at me. "Tell you what, girl. Because I actually had a fun date with you, I’ll catch your actual bad guy for you. Sounds fair?"

​"What?! No! You're about to hurt my friends!"

​"Don’t worry," she said, turning to leave the room. "I’ll let you go."

“ BUT WHAT ABOUT THEM” I yelled “ FUCK” am never touching a dating app again I say as I bang my head on the model bars.

Raph POV

​I kept looking around, but that "somebody's-watching-me" feeling was digging into my skull like a persistent tick. At this point, I wasn't just irritated—I was Raph-level mad.

​"Will you just come out already?!" I roared, my voice bouncing off the metal rafters. "I know you're there! I can feel your eyes boring holes into the back of my head!"

​I waited. One second. Two seconds. Nothing but the hum of the robot arms.

​"Okay, that’s it! You want to play hide-and-seek? Let's play smash-and-find!"

​I summoned my red mystic energy, my arms glowing and doubling in size. I started swinging, pulverizing crates and turning machinery into scrap metal. Finally, something flashed in the corner of my eye. A figure vaulted out of a stack of boxes I’d just leveled, performed a flawless mid-air twist, and landed silently behind me.

​I spun around. It was a girl—well, a girl in a tiger mask that covered her whole face. She was tall for a human, reaching up to my chest, which put her at about Leo’s height. She was rocking an all-black tactical suit with a cropped jacket, her hands tucked casually into her pockets like she was waiting for a bus.

​"Who are you? And where are April and my brothers?" I demanded.

​She didn't say a word. Just stood there, head tilted slightly.

​"Are you the one behind the kidnappings?" I asked, my voice dropping an octave. Still nothing. Why is this girl so annoying?! "Look, I’m a big guy. I’m a gentleman. I don't hurt girls. So you need to tell me where they are, right now."

​"Or what?" she asked. Her voice had a sharp Russian accent—cool, calm, and way too collected.

​"Or you’ll be in serious trouble!"

​"I thought you said you don’t hit girls," she countered, her aura screaming 'I've already won this fight.'

​"I don't! But for my family? I will make a very localized exception!"

​I slid into my boxing stance—feet planted, jaw tucked, fists up. I know I look terrifying. I’m a 7-foot-tall snapping turtle with spikes. Kids and puppies usually run for the hills, which breaks my heart because I am a sweetheart, okay? I love animals! I’m a man who is gentle! A Gentle-man! But right now, I needed to be the "Big Bad Raph" so this chick would talk.

​She didn't move for thirty seconds. Then, she exploded.

​She didn't just move; she blurred. She launched into a backflip, and as her body inverted, her heel connected with my chin like a sledgehammer. CRACK. I stumbled back, clutching my jaw. "Wow... okay. You’re strong."

​She flipped back twice, landing in a perfect kickboxing stance—knees bouncy, hands held high near her temples, shins turned outward.

​"Okay, that’s it! I don't care if you're a girl anymore!"

​I threw a massive haymaker, a punch that could level a wall, but she wasn't there. She leaned back with a "matrix" style dodge and immediately countered with a Roundhouse Kick. Her shin slammed into the side of my head with a sickening thud.

​Before I could recover, she stayed in close, using Muay Thai clinching. She grabbed the back of my neck and pulled my head down, driving her knee into my plastron. I tried to grab her, but she was like smoke. She pivoted on one foot, snapped her hips, and delivered a Lead Hook to my face followed by a Switch Kick to my ribs.

​It happened again and again. I’d swing, she’d slip under my arm and punish my liver with a lightning-fast kick. I felt less like a ninja and more like her personal heavy-bag.

​"Will you—stop—moving!" I huffed, swinging again, only to catch a foot to the nose.

​She wasn't just fighting; she was practicing. And I was the equipment.

THWACK. Another kick to the temple. My head was ringing like a church bell. I was trying to be polite! I was trying to maintain my "Big Brother Integrity"! But this girl—this Tiger-Masked Terror—was treating my face like a world-class gym.

​"Okay... new plan," I wheezed, shaking the cobwebs out of my head. "Less 'Gentle,' more 'Man'!"

​I gathered my red mystic energy, ready to unleash a Power Smash that would shake the foundation of the building, but a high-pitched scream echoed from the catwalks.

​"LEAVE MY BIG BROTHER ALONE, YOU TIGER-FACED MEANIE!"

​Mikey came flying out of the shadows like a neon-orange meteor. He had his mystic chains swinging, the kusarigama glowing with golden fire. Behind him, Casey was sliding down a conveyor belt, hockey stick raised like a broadsword.

​"Master Michelangelo, wait! We need a tactical formation!" Casey yelled, but Mikey was already in the zone.

​Tiger-Mask didn't even look surprised. She caught Mikey’s chain with the crook of her elbow, spun him around like a tetherball, and sent him crashing right into Casey. The two of them tangled into a heap of limbs and hockey gear.

​"Oof! My shell! Casey, your knee is in my eye!" Mikey groaned.

​"Sorry, Master Mikey! She’s... she's much faster than the historical records indicated!"

​The girl in the mask stood there, perfectly balanced, her hands back in her pockets. She looked at the three of us and let out a small, mocking huff of air.

​"That's it!" I growled. My protective instincts finally overrode my "don't-hit-girls" rule. "Nobody tosses my little brother! POWER SMASH!"

​I didn't aim for her. I knew she’d just dodge it. Instead, I slammed both of my massive, glowing red fists into the floor. The concrete shattered, the shockwave ripping through the floorboards and sending a massive cloud of dust and debris into the air. The conveyor belts groaned and snapped, creating a chaotic maze of falling metal.

​"If I can't catch you," I huffed through the dust, "I'll just change the room so you have nowhere to run!"

​"Raph, look!" Mikey pointed.

​Through the dust, a yellow spark began to flicker. It wasn't my red energy or Mikey’s gold. It was some weird, rhythmic circle of yellow light.

​Tiger-Mask didn't look bothered by the floor collapsing. She just stepped into the yellow ring. She looked back at me, her head tilting one last time—was she smiling under that mask?—and then PUFF.

​She was gone. And a second later, the floor beneath us turned into that same glowing yellow liquid.

​"Uh, Raph?" Mikey squeaked, clutching my arm. "Is the floor supposed to look like lemon soda?"

​"Hold on to something!" I yelled, grabbing them both.

​We fell. Not into a dungeon, and not into a basement. We fell through a portal that felt like being squeezed through a straw, and we landed—hard—in a room that looked like a high-tech lounge.

​I sat up, blinking, and saw Leo and Donnie on the other side of the room, looking just as confused as we were.

​"Raph?" Leo asked, rubbing his head. "Did you get invited to the weird party too?"

​"I didn't get invited," I grunted, standing up and shielding my brothers. "I got kicked. A lot.”. 

​I heard a soft giggle and a deep, gravelly chuckle. It was the girl and an alligator dude. Honestly? If he weren't standing right next to the girl who just used my face as a speed bag, I would’ve thought he looked awesome. He had this "final boss" energy that made my scales itch.

​"Wohhhhh! You look awesome, man!!" Mikey suddenly yelled.

​I looked over, and sure enough, Mikey had literal stars in his eyes. He wasn't even in a fighting stance; he was just fanboying.

​"Mikey, NO! He is a bad guy! Bad! Do not compliment the bad guy!" Leo yelled, wagging a finger like a disappointed drama teacher.

​"Whaaaaaat? But Leo, look at him! He looks like a Marvel superhero!" Mikey gestured wildly at the alligator’s abs and dreads.

​The guy actually laughed—a deep, chest-vibrating sound. "I appreciate the compliment, Little Orange," he said. His voice was so deep I couldn't tell if it was natural or some kind of mystic voice-changer to make him sound edgier.

​We all scrambled to our feet, finally forming a proper turtle-wall.

​"Okay, let's try this again!" I growled, my red mystic energy sparking around my fists. "Let's see if you can still kick me around when I have my whole team with me!"

​I glared at the girl, the alligator dude looked at her and shook his head. "You didn't have to go that hard on the big guy, you know," he said to her, sounding way too casual.

​"What? I was only having a little fun," she countered, her Russian accent sharp behind the tiger mask. "Besides, he is tougher than he looks. He makes a good heavy bag."

​They were talking like they were discussing the weather, and I hated it. We're the Mad Dogs! We aren't "practicing"!

​"So," Leo stepped forward, hand on his sword hilt. "Is she V?"

​"Nah. This is Trigger Claw," the guy said, spinning his chain-sickle with terrifying ease. "And you can call me LD."

​"Ohhh, cool name!" Mikey chirped.

​"MIKEY!!" the three of us yelled in unison.

​"ENOUGH!" Donnie stepped up, his mechanical arms clicking and whirring as they aimed a laser right at LD’s snout. "Enough with the networking! Where is April? If she is missing even one hair on her head, I will become a very high-tech nightmare!"

​"She’s with V," Trigger Claw said, tucking her hands back into her pockets. "Don't worry. She is in good hands."

​"Good hands?! You're kidnappers!" I roared. "Donnie, with me! Let’s show Tiger-Mask how we do it in the Bronx!”

​Raph & Donnie vs. Trigger Claw

​I lunged, my massive red mystic arms swinging like wrecking balls. Trigger Claw didn't flinch; she vaulted off a shipping crate, performing a mid-air twist that made my head spin. Donnie fired a barrage of "Shelly-Missiles" to cut off her escape, but she used the explosions as a smokescreen!

​She landed right on my shell, using it as a springboard to deliver a double-kick to Donnie’s goggles.

"Hey! These are custom-made, you monochromatic menaces!" Donnie shrieked, swinging his tech-bo staff while his mechanical arms tried to grab her ankles.

Leo & Mikey vs. LD ( Leo POV)

​On the other side, Leo was teleporting through blue portals, trying to find an opening in LD’s defense.

"Hey, Gator-Punk! Catch!" Leo yelled, throwing a portal behind LD.

​LD didn't even turn around. He slammed a clawed hand into the ground, and a burst of yellow mystic light erupted, creating a shield that shattered Leo’s portal. Then, he did something crazy—he wove his hands in a circle, and a glowing yellow serpent of energy hissed out of the floor!

​"OH Me GOSH!" Mikey screamed, dodging the energy-snake. "LEO, DID YOU SEE THAT?! HE HAS MAGIC SNAKES! Sir, is that a family technique? Can I pet it? I mean, while we're fighting?"

​"Mikey, focus on the guy trying to flatten us!" Leo yelled, sliding under LD’s laughed swinging Kusarigama.

​"I am focusing! I’m focusing on how cool his aesthetic is!" Mikey flipped over LD’s tail, swinging his flaming nunchucks. "Seriously, do you have a YouTube channel? How do you get your scales to glow like that?!"

​LD chuckled, his yellow eyes glowing. "You've got spirit, let's see what you got” he looked very amused with mickey. Michey started asking him questions.

​"Mikey! Stop asking about his skincare and start swinging!" I yelled, diving through a portal just as LD’s heavy chain-sickle pulverized the floor where I’d been standing a millisecond ago.

​"I can't help it, Leo! Look at the craftsmanship on that weapon!" Mikey chirped, performing a triple-backflip over a glowing yellow energy-serpent. He landed right next to LD, who was twice his size and triple his muscle. "Sir, do you use a whetstone for the blade, or is it sharpened by the power of your own soul? Because that would be so metal."

​LD let out a deep, rumbling laugh, swinging his arm in a wide arc. "You’re a chatty one, aren't you, Little Orange?"

​He slammed his palms together, and a ring of yellow mystic fire expanded outward. I teleported behind him, aiming a precision strike at his shoulder, but he moved with a speed that defied his bulk. He caught my blade with the handle of his Kusarigama—Clang!—and shoved me back with a grin.

​"You're fast, Blue. But your brother? He’s got style." LD winked at Mikey.

​"I DO have style!" Mikey beamed, spinning his nunchucks so fast they turned into a blur of golden flame. "So, Mr. LD, is that vest real leather? Because I have a jacket that would totally match your vibe, we could swap—look out!"

​Mikey swung his chain, clashing against LD's. The two of them were locked in a struggle, faces inches apart.

​"Is it heavy, being this cool?" Mikey asked, his eyes wide with genuine curiosity.

​LD’s yellow eyes crinkled. He actually leaned into the struggle, looking amused. "It’s a burden, kid. But someone’s gotta do it." He suddenly swept Mikey’s legs, but instead of letting him fall, he caught Mikey’s shell with his foot and gently flipped him back onto his feet. "Nice balance. You’ve been training."

​"Aww, thanks! I’ve been working on my core!"

​"MIKEY, STOP FLIRTING WITH THE ENEMY!" I screamed, lunging back into the fray.

​I unleashed a flurry of strikes, my blue portals flickering like strobe lights around LD. I was moving at top speed, my blades a blur of steel. LD’s amusement vanished for a second as he went into serious combat mode. He spun his Kusarigama in a complex, defensive "Spider-Web" pattern, the sparks flying so thick they looked like fireworks.

​Every time I thought I had an opening, a yellow portal would open right in front of my blade, and I’d end up nearly stabbing myself.

​"You're good, Leo," LD grunted, his voice dropping into that dangerous, professional register. "But you're too worried about the kid. It's slowing you down."

​"I'm not worried!" I lied, teleporting again. "I'm just—"

​"He's totally worried!" Mikey interrupted, swinging from a ceiling pipe. "He's the 'Mom' of the group! Hey, LD, do you have brothers? Or are you a lone wolf type? You feel like a lone wolf. A very handsome, scaly lone wolf."

​LD actually paused, a small, genuine smile tugging at his mask. "I like this one," he rumbled, looking at me. "Can we keep him? He’s way better than the angry red one."

​"HEY!" Raph yelled from across the room, where he was currently being used as a footstool by Trigger Claw. "I HEARD THAT!"

​"Don't listen to him, LD!" Mikey giggled, landing a playful (but still fiery) kick against LD's arm. "Raph's just sensitive!"

​"I can see that," LD laughed, his yellow magic sparking playfully around his fingers. "Alright, kid. Let's see if you can dodge this.”

Just as LD was about to swing his chain in what looked like a massive finisher, a smooth, commanding voice echoed through the rafters.

​"Okay, guys. Playtime is over."

​The room went still. We all looked up toward the balcony. I froze for a heartbeat, and I’m pretty sure my brain actually short-circuited. I’ve seen a lot of things, but I’ve never seen a girl like her. She was stunning—like, "actually-forgot-how-to-breathe" beautiful. I felt a heat rising in my cheeks, but the blush died instantly when I realized who was standing right next to her.

​April. Tied up and looking like she was ready to swing a baseball bat at someone’s head.

​LD and Trigger Claw didn't hesitate. They vaulted up the wall, landing on either side of the mystery girl. The girl glanced at LD with a knowing smirk—the kind that said she’d seen every second of his "moment" with Mikey. She gave him a look like, 'Really, LD? We're trying to be intimidating here.'

​Trigger Claw just rolled her eyes, her hands in her pockets as she looked down at us. "As promised," she said in that sharp Russian accent. "You're free, April."

​The new girl didn't use the door. She just shoved April right off the ledge.

​"APRIL!" Donnie shrieked. He moved like a purple blur, his mechanical arms extending to catch her mid-air. He landed softly, immediately hovering over her like a worried mother hen. "April! Are you hurt? Did they touch you? Do I need to initiate the 'Disintegrate-Everything' protocol?!"

​"I'm okay, Dee," April gasped, looking so relieved to see him that I thought Donnie might actually melt.

​I stepped in front of my brothers, my katanas held tight, my face shifting into the most serious, "No-More-Games" leader expression I could muster.

​"This is your last chance," I hissed, my eyes narrowing at the trio on the balcony. "Who are you? Who do you work for? Give me a reason not to portal you all into a trash compactor right now."

​she just smiled. It wasn't a friendly smile; it was full of mischief and secrets. "I am V," she said simply.

​Suddenly, the shadows shifted. A familiar, masked figure stepped out—Big Mama’s assistant. He was dragging a random, scruffy-looking man by the collar.

​"As promised, April O'Neil," the assistant rumbled. "Here is your kidnapper."

​He tossed the guy off the ledge just like V did with April, but no one was there to catch him. He hit the floor with a sickening thud and a groan.

​The second I saw the assistant, everything clicked. The high-tech warehouse, the mystic portals, the "game" they were playing with us.

​"You guys work for Big Mama?" I growled, the blue energy around my blades crackling with irritation. "What does she want from us now? More gladiator matches? A turtle-themed dinner party?"

​"You'll see," was all V said. Her gaze lingered on me for a second, and I couldn't tell if she was impressed or just bored.

​The yellow sparks began to fly. LD, V, and Trigger Claw started to fade into the golden light. But just before LD vanished, he reappeared for a split second right next to Mikey.

​He leaned down, whispered something into Mikey’s ear that made my little brother’s eyes go wide, and then—PUFF.

​The golden sparks settled, leaving nothing but the smell of ozone and the sound of the kidnapper’s muffled groans on the floor. The silence in the room was heavy.

​"They're... they're really gone," Raph said, his mystic red arms fading back to normal size. He rubbed his jaw gingerly. "And they're working for Big Mama. Great. Because my life definitely needed more 'Spider-Lady' drama."

​Donnie was still busy untying April, his hands moving at triple-speed. "The tech they used to vanish—it wasn't just mystic. It was a localized space-time fold. Very expensive. Very Big Mama."

​April stood up, shaking out her wrists. "They're not just muscle, guys. That girl, V? She’s smart. She played me like a fiddle on that app. We need to be careful."

​I sheathed my katanas, my mind still racing. I looked over at Mikey, who was standing exactly where LD had been a second ago. He looked like he’d just been told the secret to the ultimate pizza topping.

​"Hey, Mikey," I said, stepping over to him. "Earth to Angelo. What did Gator-Punk say to you before he dipped? Was it a threat? A recipe? A very deep-voiced insult?"

​Mikey blinked, a small, mischievous grin spreading across his face. He looked at the massive, confusing labyrinth of the warehouse around us—the dead ends, the locked doors, and the shadows.

​"He didn't threaten me, Leo," Mikey chirped, popping his 'p's. "He actually seems kinda nice! In a 'I-could-crush-your-skull-but-I-won't' kinda way."

​"Mikey!" Raph groaned. "The words! Use the words!"

​"He told me the way out," Mikey revealed, pointing toward a nondescript ventilation duct near the ceiling. "He said, 'Take the third vent on the left, kid. It leads straight to the alley. Don't let the Blue one lead—he’s got no sense of direction.'"

​I gasped, offended. "I have an excellent sense of direction! I just... prefer the scenic route!"

​"He also said," Mikey’s voice dropped, trying (and failing) to imitate LD’s gravelly bass, "'Tell Big Red he’s got a good chin. I’ve hit harder things that broke faster.'"

​Raph actually looked a little flattered for a second before catching himself. "I—whatever! Let's just get April home and get back to the Lair. If Big Mama is moving her pawns, we need to be ready for the next move."

​"Wait!" I held up a hand, and everyone skidded to a halt. I looked around, the silence of the room suddenly feeling a lot emptier. "Where is Casey?"

​The panic hit us all at once. Raph’s eyes went wide, and Donnie immediately started frantically tapping at his gauntlet.

​"Oh no! Casey!" Raph yelled, his voice echoing in the vents.

​"I—I can't find his location anywhere!" Donnie hissed, his goggles clicking rapidly. "His signal is dead! Non-existent! Gone!"

​"Darn it!" I felt a cold sweat prickle my neck. "I told him to take his tracker off before we sneaked out so Raph wouldn't find us! I—I panicked!"

​Just then, the "8-bit" ringtone of my phone pierced the air. I fumbled for it, nearly dropping it twice before hitting 'accept.' It was Casey.

​"Sensei?!" Casey’s voice came through, sounding breathless and confused. "What's going on? There was a flash of yellow light and Masters Raphael and Michelangelo just... disappeared! Are you guys okay? I'm still at the warehouse where we were fighting that girl in the tiger mask!"

​We all let out a collective, shaky breath. The world stopped spinning for a second.

​"Casey’s okay, guys," I breathed, leaning my head against the cold metal of the vent. "He's still back at the first location. He didn't get pulled through the portal."

​"Okay," Raph grunted, his protective 'Papa Bear' energy settling back into a simmer. "Let's go get him. Now."

​As we scrambled through the duct, I couldn't help but look back at that empty balcony one last time. The shadows seemed to linger where V had been standing. Big Mama usually wants us for the Battle Nexus, but this? This felt like a recruitment. Like she was building a team to match ours. And V? My brain was still a puddle of mush just thinking about her.

​"You coming, 'Main Character'?" Donnie called out from the vent opening, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

​"Yeah, yeah," I muttered, shaking my head and leaping up into the duct. "I'm coming."

​I crawled in behind Raph, thinking I was home free, until the big guy stopped dead in front of me. He turned his head just enough for me to see his one good eye narrowed to a tiny, judgmental slit.

​"Also, Leo..." Raph’s voice dropped into that low rumble that usually meant a three-hour lecture was coming.

​"Heh... yeah, big guy?"

​"WHY DID YOU SNEAK OUT AND DRAG CASEY INTO IT?!"

​The vent practically vibrated with the force of his yell. I winced, retreating into my shell. "In my defense... it was a very organized sneak-out?"

​"NOT HELPING, LEO!"

Chapter Text

V POV

​We stood in the surveillance hub, the walls covered in glowing screens. They flickered with every corner of the Hidden City and every "honest" business Mama owned. On the main monitor, we watched the turtles scramble out through the vents like terrified rats.

​"So, Vero? What’s the move?" Lisa asked. She was leaning against the console next to Jen—Mama’s right hand and our youngest sister.

​"First thing’s first," I said, turning to look at my siblings. "Lisa. Leather. What was that today?"

​They both gave me a look of practiced innocence, but I wasn't buying it. We were all born into this; we were bored people. Lisa never played with her prey the way she had with the big red turtle, and Leatherhead—our refined, English-gentleman brother—wasn't usually that giggly during a mission.

​"What do you mean?" Lisa asked, checking her nails.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Leather added, adjusting his cuffs.

​"Playing with Red and Orange?" I lifted an eyebrow. "You were supposed to be testing them, not making friends."

​"What? The guy was funny," Leatherhead said with his usual swag. Despite being a gator, he was a total playboy. He was sixteen but looked twenty-two, with a handsome face and a charm that could make anyone swoon.

​"The red one was kinda cute," Lisa added with a smirk. "The angrier he got, the funnier he became."

​Lisa was seventeen, with skin like Siberian snow and blue eyes that looked like ice. She was a Russian model in human form, but underneath, she was a Tiger Yokai who handled the entire weapon trade. I rolled my eyes. I suppose I could let them have their fun.

​"Mama is on her way," Jen whispered.

​At the mention of our mother, we all removed our masks. Jen, only fourteen, was the softest of us. She was a turtle Yokai, spoiled and girly, obsessed with dresses and makeup. Mama kept her close, whispering that her father had been the greatest warrior of the Battle Nexus—Lou Jitsu—before he abandoned them.

​The heavy doors groaned open. Big Mama fluttered in, her many silk robes trailing behind her like a spider’s web.

​"Hello, my little darlings! Been up to some mischievous shenanigans, have we?" she cooed.

​Leatherhead walked over and kissed her cheek, a perfect gentleman. We all followed suit.

​"Hi, Mama," we said in unison.

​"So, what did you think of the turtly-boos?" she asked, her demeanor sweet but her eyes sharp as glass.

​"You were right, Mother," I said, my voice steady. "They are talented. And slippery."

​"Oh yes, yes! You see, until now, they have just been showing up and making a mess-wess of my work. Then PUFF! They disappear. They are the only ones not under my regime. They seem to think they are above me, and I simply cannot have that. Now that you three are back from your missions, it is time they know just how scary Big Mama can be."

​Suddenly, a sharp alarm went off on LD’s phone.

​"Well," Leatherhead sighed, checking his watch. "Time to head to my first job."

​Leather was the best of us, truly. He worked three jobs just to pay off a debt his birth mother had incurred. Mama helped him by keeping the collectors away, but LD was stubborn. He refused to do the "dirty work." He wouldn't kill an innocent, and he refused to be a slave to the business. He wanted to earn his way out "cleanly." Mama had given up trying to change him long ago; she just made sure one of us was always with him to handle the bloodier parts of the job.

​"What, dear? Already?" Mama asked.

​LD kissed her cheek. "Got to keep getting those checks, Mother."

​"Wait, hun." Mama reached into her pocket and handed him a thick envelope—his payment. He nodded, tucked it into his vest, and walked out.

​"Mom, what do you want them for?" Jen asked, her voice soft and curious.

​"Oh, I have big plans for them. But they are slippery. I want you to capture them and bring them to me—but only after you find their weaknesses. Study them. Break them."

​"Yes, Mama," we said, our voices echoing in the cold room.

​"Oh! And there will be a ball," Mama added, her face lighting up. "You must all be in attendance. Formal wear is mandatory."

​Jen’s eyes lit up. She loved a ball. Underneath the mask of an assassin, she was just a girl who loved the glitter and the drama of high society.

​"Go on then," Mama waved us off. "Go play with your new toys."

Later 

The room was a mess of discarded designer boxes, curling irons, and the heavy scent of Tom Ford perfume, and weed. In the background, a dark, slowed-down remix of a pop song played, setting that perfect "rich and dangerous" mood.

​Vero sat at the vanity, her dark hair pinned back as she meticulously applied a sharp wing of eyeliner. She took a long drag of her joint cigarette, the cherry glowing in the dim light, before passing it off to Lisa.

​"Don't get ash on the silk, Lis," Vero warned, her eyes never leaving her reflection. "Mama will have our heads if we show up looking like we’ve been in a street fight."

​Lisa caught the joint between two fingers, leaning back against the bedpost in her lace slip. She took a pull, her Siberian blue eyes gazing out at the Hidden City skyline. "Please. I've handled heavy artillery with more grace than you handle a mascara wand."

​She let out a slow plume of smoke. "But seriously, V... that big Red one today? Raph? He was actually kind of... charming. In a 'I'll-punch-a-hole-through-a-wall-for-you' way. His energy is so raw. It’s a shame he has no idea how to actually channel it."

​"Gross," Jen groaned, emerging from the walk-in closet in a flurry of pink tulle. She was struggling to fasten a diamond choker. "Can we stop talking about the turtle-men? They’re literally sewer-dwellers. Lisa, you have zero standards."

​Vero chuckled, taking the joint  back from Lisa. "Oh, hush, Jen-Jen. Lisa just likes a project. And I have to admit, the Blue one—Leo—he has something. Did you see his footwork? He’s impulsive, sure, but he’s got a spark. When he fought Mama in the Nexus, he actually got the upper hand for a second. If he had someone to actually train him, he’d be a god."

​"I don't care if he can teleport to the moon," Jen huffed, stomping over to the vanity. "They’re messy. I want a Prince. I heard the young heir to the Silver-Dragon Clan is going to be there tonight. Now that is a guy worth a dance. He doesn't live in a literal pipe."

​"You're so spoiled," Lisa teased, reaching over to help Jen with her jewelry. "You want the crown, but you don't want the dirt it takes to keep it."

​"I want the crown and the shoes," Jen corrected, checking her reflection. "And I want to look better than everyone else in that room. V, pass me the highlighter. I need to look like I’m made of starlight before I go hunt down my Prince."

​Vero handed over the compact, her eyes softening as she looked at her little sister. "Just don't get distracted. We're there to observe. Mama wants us to find their weaknesses, and that means keeping an eye on the targets."

​"You two keep an eye on your turtles," Jen said, applying the shimmer to her cheekbones with a practiced hand. "I’ll be busy being the belle of the ball. Besides, I heard Penelope is wearing that hideous lime green again. Honestly, someone should just arrest her for crimes against fashion."

​Vero stood up, her dark hair cascading down her back. She poured three small glasses of sparkling cider—no alcohol for Jen, despite her protests—and raised her glass.

​"To the empire," Vero whispered, her obsidian eyes glinting with a dangerous light.

​"To the empire," Lisa and Jen echoed.

​The "Mafia Daughters" were ready to own the night.

Back in the layer. 

Donnie POV

The air in the Lair was heavy with the scent of damp concrete and old pizza, but as I pulled April aside into the shadows near the lab entrance, the world narrowed down to just the two of us.

​"April, I just—"

​"If this is an 'I told you so' moment, Dee," she cut me off, her voice thick with a mix of frustration and a vulnerability that made my chest ache. "I just want to say you were right. I was anxious, and lonely, and... self-conscious, okay? I didn't mean the things I said. I was just frustrated and I took it out on you. So, go ahead. Have your moment. Say it."

​I looked at her, my mouth ready with a sharp retort, but the words died in my throat. I saw the way she was holding herself, the way her eyes avoided mine. It clicked. My brilliant, beautiful April was feeling small.

​A dark, possessive heat flared in my chest. I didn't want to be right. I wanted to destroy whatever made her feel that way. I realized in that moment that I didn't just want her near me—I yearned for her. I wanted to be the barrier between her and every doubt she ever had.

​"No," I said, my voice dropping into a low, resonant rumble. "I was going to say I’m sorry. I hate the thought of anyone taking you away from me."

​She looked up at me, shocked. "Donnie? I'm with you for life. You're my best friend, remember?"

​I didn't answer. Not with words. I stepped into her space, closing the gap until the tips of our toes touched. She backed up instinctively, her breath hitching as she hit the cold brick wall. I didn't stop. I leaned in, bracing my hand against the wall, effectively caging her within my shadow.

​Up close, I saw it. For the first time, I saw the hope in her eyes. She wasn't waiting for a lecture; she was waiting for me. My heart hammered against my ribs, a chaotic rhythm that defied every law of physics I knew. I wanted to kiss her. I wanted to taste that hope.

​But no. Not like this. Not when she was feeling less than the goddess she was. She deserved an empire.

​I reached out, cupping her face in my hand. My thumb traced her jawline, and I felt her whole body tremble. She held her breath, her eyes fluttering shut for a heartbeat as she leaned into my touch.

​"April," I whispered, my gaze burning into hers with a passion I couldn't hide anymore. "You are the most beautiful girl in the world. The only girl I care about. Never speak of yourself that way again. I cannot bear the thought of you doubting your worth for even a single second. I am with you for life. Till death do us part."

​I saw her exhale, a soft, shaky breath that spoke of disappointment when I didn't lean in further. I wanted to. God, I wanted to. But I had to be more than just a boy in a lab. I had to be everything she needed.

​"Don't worry," I said, a slow, dark smirk pulling at my lips. "I have big plans for you."

​I leaned in, but instead of her lips, I pressed a firm, lingering kiss to her cheek. The heat of her skin stayed on my lips even after I pulled away.

​I turned and walked into my lab, the door hissing shut behind me. I immediately bypassed the security protocols, changing the password to something she’d never guess. I needed this space. I needed to build her a reality where she never felt "self-conscious" again.

​I sat at my desk, the blue light of the monitors reflecting in my goggles. I didn't look at engine specs. I looked at her. I researched everything: the female gaze, the psychology of romance, the art of devotion. I realized then that every time I had studied her favorite things, every time I had memorized her coffee order or the way she laughed—it wasn't just observation. It was worship.

​"She is my life," I whispered to the dark room.

​I began to map it out. Seven days. Seven days of making her feel like the center of the universe. I would show her what it meant to be loved by a genius. I would take charge. I would be her comfort, her protector, her everything.

​And on the seventh day? There would be no more "best friends." Only us.

Chapter Text

April POV

​It had been a full week since Donnie kissed my cheek. One week. And the genius had been holed up in his lab ever since, not coming out for air. He’d only text the guys to say he was "optimizing," while Mikey left plates of food in his rotating dispenser. It wasn’t the first time he’d gone into hermit mode, but how dare he? How dare he kiss me like that and then just walk away?

​I told myself that when he finally emerged, I was going to give him a piece of my mind.

​In the meantime, life went on. I finished my project and got way more than an A+. Remember the story I was working on? The guy actually made the news! "Looks like that girl V really kept her word," I muttered to myself as I watched the police lead him away. When she tracked down the guy and handed him over to me, I was worried. I knew that without hard evidence, he would just be right back out on the streets in a few hours.

​But right as we walked into the station, my phone buzzed with a massive, encrypted file transfer. V had sent over every single text, every photo, and every bit of data I needed to prosecute him for good.

​I got all the credit. The news reported that I’d tracked him down and secured the evidence myself. I was a hero! The guys threw me a huge congratulations party, and everyone was there—everyone except Donnie.

​I was walking home from the lair, still buzzing from the party but annoyed that he hadn't shown up, when suddenly, I was lifted clean off the ground.

​"Ah!" I screamed, swinging my fists until I looked up. "Donnie?"

​He touched down on a nearby rooftop and set me down gently. I immediately started hitting his arm. "Donnie! You scared the life out of me!"

​He laughed, that dorky, metallic-sounding chuckle. "Easy, easy there, O’Neil."

​But I didn't stop. I remembered what this jerk did. "Why haven't you talked to me since then? You disappear for a week after—"

​I stopped. He stepped into my space, his purple goggles reflecting the moonlight. My heart started pounding so hard I thought he could hear it through his tech. The heat rushed to my face.

​Beneath the flutter in my chest, a small alarm bell went off. Donnie was being... smooth. Too smooth. Usually, when Donnie messes up socially, he stammers or makes a graph. He doesn't just glide back into my life like a movie star.

​"April," he said, his voice dropping to that confident tone he gets when he’s proud of himself. "I have a surprise for you."

​"A surprise?" I asked, my voice small and hopeful, even as my brain whispered, What are you up to, Dee?

​"Yup." He grinned, showing all his teeth. God, I loved that smile. "A seven-day vacation. Would you like to go?"

​"Seven days?! Donnie, I have school—"

​"Already thought of that. I sent an email to your professors. You're free for seven days."

​I blinked. He’d handled my professors, the legal paperwork, everything. It was incredible. It was thoughtful. It was also a little terrifying. Donnie doesn't do "relaxing" unless there's a motive. But looking at him, seeing the way he was trying so hard to be charming, I decided to ignore the warning signs for just a little longer.

​He scooped me up bridal-style. His battle-shell hissed, and suddenly we were soaring. We flew above the clouds where the night was quiet and beautiful. A smooth track started playing from his suit. He began doing slow, graceful flips. He was moving like Superman. I usually hate flying unless I'm strapped to his back, but with him holding me like this, I finally understood why he loved it.

​Yet, as I looked at the stars, I couldn't shake the feeling of "the other shoe dropping." This felt like a dream, and I've lived in New York long enough to know that when things look this good, there's usually a catch.

​He landed at the front door and pulled out a key. As we walked in, the lights hummed to life, bathing the entryway in a soft, warm amber glow. "Welcome home, Donnie and April," a sleek AI voice announced.

​I didn't laugh this time. The air in the cottage felt different—heavy and sweet, like cedarwood and something uniquely Donnie. I looked at him, and for the first time, I didn't see the chaotic genius or the sarcastic brother. I saw a man who had spent hours, maybe weeks, curating this perfect silence just for me.

​"Donnie," I whispered, the word catching in my throat. He didn't make a joke. He just watched me, his eyes soft behind his goggles, tracking every expression on my face as he showed me around.

​The scale of it was breathtaking, but it was the details that got to me. The way the kitchen was stocked with my favorite tea, the way the temperature was exactly how I liked it. He led me to the kitchen, where a fresh pot of fufu was already steaming. We ate, and the usual banter was there, but it felt... charged. Every time our eyes met over the table, a spark of heat shot through me. He was being so attentive, so gentle, that I felt like I was floating in one of those clouds we’d just flown through.

​Finally, he led me to my room.

​When he opened the door, I felt my heart skip a beat, then race to catch up. It was a masterpiece. The emerald-green silk of the bed curtains, the faux vines glowing with firefly lights—it wasn't just a room. It was a love letter written in interior design.

​"I... I remembered you mentioned this aesthetic once," Donnie said, his voice lower than usual, standing just a bit too close. "During a particularly long rant about 'cottagecore' three years, two months, and four days ago."

​I turned to him, my breath hitching. He remembered that? I looked at the dresser filled with those gorgeous, flowing dresses and felt a wave of pure, unadulterated affection wash over me. I was completely blown away. This was a side of Donnie he never let anyone see—the side that was soft, thoughtful, and deeply, dangerously romantic.

​Without thinking, I stepped into his space and threw my arms around his neck.

​He didn't freeze this time. His arms wound around my waist, pulling me flush against his plastron. I buried my face in the crook of his neck, breathing him in. The tension between us was so thick I could taste it—a dizzying mix of "what happens next" and "don't ever let go." I felt lost in it, lost in the way his heart was thudding against mine, echoing the same frantic rhythm.

​I pulled back just an inch, my hands lingering on his shoulders. I looked up at him, my gaze dropping to his lips for a split second before meeting his eyes. "Thank you, Donnie. Truly. I don't even know what to say."

​A small, lopsided smirk tugged at his mouth—the one that always made my stomach flip. "Then don't say anything, April."

​He reached down, his fingers lingering against the skin of my wrist before he took my hand. He bowed low, pressing a lingering, warm kiss to my knuckles. His eyes stayed locked on mine the whole time, intense and promising.

​"I’m just getting started," he murmured, his voice a low vibration that made my knees weak. "Good night, April."

​He backed out of the room, closing the door softly. I stood there, staring at the wood, my skin still tingling where he’d touched me. I was falling, hard and fast, and for the first time, I didn't want to catch myself.

​Whatever he was planning, I was already his.

​I woke up the next morning feeling like I was drifting on a cloud. The sunlight filtered through the emerald curtains, turning the whole room into a shimmering, golden-green sanctuary. For a second, I just laid there, listening to the quiet. No sirens, no subway rumbles—just the soft rustle of leaves outside.

​I looked over at the dresser. Yesterday, I was suspicious. Today? I was ready to be dazzled.

​I walked over and pulled out a sundress that looked like it was woven from actual sunshine—a soft, pale yellow with a delicate floral print and tiny ties at the shoulders. As I slipped it on, the fabric hugged me in all the right places. I did a quick spin, the skirt flaring out around my knees. I felt light. I felt beautiful.

​When I stepped out of my room, the smell of breakfast hit me—rich, dark coffee and something sweet and buttery. I followed the scent to the kitchen, my heart doing a little nervous dance in my chest.

​Donnie was there, and my breath hitched.

​He had his back to me, working some high-tech culinary gadget with the focus of a surgeon. He wasn't wearing his battle shell—just his soft, dark purple gear—and in the morning light, he looked... relaxed. Different.

​"Good morning, Dee," I said softly.

​Donnie turned around, a "confident" greeting already half-formed on his lips. "Ah, April, you are precisely 12 seconds early for the scheduled—"

​He stopped. The tablet in his hand tilted precariously as his gaze swept over me. His purple eyes went wide, and for a long, silent moment, he just stared. I saw his throat move as he swallowed, his usual bravado completely evaporating.

​"Donnie?" I teased, stepping closer, feeling a surge of playful power. "You okay? You look like you just saw a ghost."

​"Not a ghost," he rasped, his voice a little deeper than usual. He quickly set the tablet down, his hands fumbling slightly—a rare crack in his mechanical precision. "You... the yellow. It’s... statistically the most flattering color in the visible spectrum. You look... radiant, April."

​The way he said my name—not O'Neil, not a joke—made my toes curl. The tension from last night was back, but it was warmer now, glowing like the embers of a fire.

​"Is that for me?" I asked, gesturing to the elaborate breakfast spread: fresh fruit, pastries that looked like they were flown in from Paris, and two cups of perfectly frothed coffee.

​"Everything here is for you," he said, his voice regaining some of that "Dazzle" edge, though his eyes were still soft. He pulled out my chair with a flourish of his mechanical arm, but his real hand lingered on the back of the seat, inches from my shoulder.

​As I sat down, he leaned in, his face hovering just past my ear as he set my coffee down. I could feel the heat radiating from him.

​"Day one of your royal treatment, April," he whispered, his breath tickling my skin. "I hope you’re hungry. I have a very... extensive itinerary planned."

​I looked up at him, my heart hammering against my ribs. I was lost in the moment, lost in the way he was looking at me like I was the only thing in the world that mattered.

​"I think I can handle it," I whispered back.

The next three days went by in a total blender. If you told me a week ago that I’d be living in a cottage in the woods wearing sundresses and Victorian nightgowns, I would’ve laughed in your face. I’ve always been a tomboy—boots, yellow jacket, hair pulled back, ready to brawl. But here? Donnie made me feel like I could be both. He created a space where I could be a queen in a silk dress one hour and a competitive beast the next.

​Day One was all about the water. We spent hours in the pool and the lake. He even set up "surfer gliding," where he flew just above the surface, dragging me across the water on a board at top speed. I was screaming, laughing, and wiped out at least a dozen times.

​The best part, though? Afterward, when my hair was a tangled, wet mess—because let’s be real, water and Black hair are a high-maintenance combo—he didn't even blink. He brought out these specialized heated tech-combs and helped me detangle it. He was so careful, so gentle, his mechanical arms and real hands working together while I sat between his knees. The way his fingers brushed my scalp made my brain melt.

​Day Two was quieter. He knows I love photography, and even though Donnie hates the "uncontrolled variables" of the great outdoors (bugs, dirt, unpredictable lighting), he didn't complain once. He stayed out there for hours while I snapped pictures of the moss, the trees, and the light.

​When we got back, I turned the camera on him. At first, he tried to act all "brooding genius," but eventually, he caved. We took the most ridiculous selfies—meme references, silly faces, him posing like a Victorian model. We spent the evening trash-talking each other over video games, screaming at the TV like we were back in the lair, except every time I won a round, he’d lean over and tuck a stray hair behind my ear with a look so intense I’d forget how to breathe.

​Day Three was the adrenaline hit. He flew me so high the air got thin, and then he let me drop. Skydiving has been on my bucket list forever, and having him there to catch me—to feel his arms lock around me in the freefall—was better than any dream. We finished the day with ziplining through the canopy, him insisting on "safety checks" that involved him standing way too close to adjust my harness.

​Every morning I’d wake up to a new dress and a compliment that made me glow. He was doing everything right. He was making me feel special, protected, and adored.

​But the nights... the nights were starting to get on my nerves.

​Every time the sun went down and we were sitting on the porch or by the fire, the atmosphere would get heavy. The jokes would stop. He’d look at me with so much yearning in his eyes it felt like he was screaming his feelings without saying a word. We’d be inches apart, the space between us humming with electricity. I’d lean in, my heart in my throat, waiting, wanting him to just finally kiss me for real.

​And every time, he’d just take my hand, press a soft, lingering kiss to my knuckles or my cheek, and whisper, "Good night, April."

​Then he’d walk away.

​I stood in my room on the night of Day Three, looking at my reflection in the circle mirrors. My heart was a mess. I was falling deeper in love with this dork every second, but the "Dazzle" was starting to feel like a shield.

​"Donatello Hamato," I snapped at the empty room, huffing as I threw myself onto the bed. "If you don't kiss me by Day Seven, I'm throwing a tech-gauntlet at your head."

Day five was feeling more than just annoyed but him not kissing I wanted to get my hands on him I wanted him to touch me, to fuck me. 

​Donnie was perfect. He was attentive. He was dazzling. And he was driving me absolutely insane. Every time his hand brushed my waist or his eyes lingered on my lips, the air got thinner, but he never crossed the line. He’d just give me that soft, maddeningly handsome smirk and pivot back to his "plan."

​Tonight, the plan was a movie and dinner. I decided right then: the plan was going off the rails.

​We started on the oversized velvet sofa in the living room. Donnie had picked some vintage sci-fi flick, but I wasn't watching the screen. I was watching him. He’d ditched the tech-gear for a simple black hoodie, and he looked so human—so reachable.

​"Donnie," I murmured, sliding closer until my hip was pressed against his leg.

​He stiffened for a microsecond, his breath hitching. "Yes, April? Is the resolution subpar? I can calibrate the—"

​"Shh. Just shut up and let me lean on you." I didn't wait for an answer. I tucked myself under his arm, my head resting on his chest. I could hear his heart; it was thundering, a frantic thump-thump-thump that told me he wasn't nearly as composed as he looked. I let my hand rest on his plastron, feeling the warmth of him through the fabric. I wanted more. I wanted his hands on me, I wanted the friction, the heat—I wanted the frustration to end.

​We moved to the kitchen to cook dinner, and the energy only got tighter. We were making homemade pizza, or at least, we were trying to. The space was too small, the air too hot. Every time we reached for the flour or the sauce, our bodies tangled.

​"O'Neil, your structural integrity regarding this dough is abysmal," he teased, though his voice was rough.

​"Oh, yeah?" I grabbed a handful of flour and blew it right into his face.

​He froze, a white cloud settling on his snout. Then, his eyes sparked with that chaotic light I loved. "Oh, it is on."

​It turned into a full-scale war. Sauce on the counters, flour in the air, laughter echoing off the high ceilings. I cornered him near the fridge, laughing as I smeared a bit of tomato sauce on his cheek. He grabbed my wrists, pinning them lightly against the cool metal.

​The laughter died instantly.

​We were both breathing hard, covered in flour, faces inches apart. I could see the exact moment his brain stopped calculating and started feeling. His gaze dropped to my mouth, and for a second, I thought—finally. But he just let go, his hands shaking as he reached for a towel.

​"We... should probably clean this up," he muttered.

​I wanted to scream.

​Later that night, the house's AI started playing a slow, melodic track. The lights dimmed to a deep, soulful purple. Donnie turned to me in the center of the room, offering his hand. "May I?"

​I took it, pulling myself flush against him as we began to sway. No more gaps. No more "royal" distance. I wrapped my arms around his neck, my fingers tangling in the soft skin at the back of his head. He hovered his hands over my waist before finally, finally letting them settle firmly against my back.

Waning ⚠️🔞 sexual content 

​The tension was agonizing. Every nerve ending I had was screaming. I was done with the hand-kisses. I was done with the "Good nights."

​I leaned up, my lips brushing his jawline. I felt him shudder beneath my touch, his grip on my waist tightening until it was almost a bruise. He was fighting it he was trying so hard to keep his "perfect plan" intact.

​"Donnie," I whispered against his skin.

​He let out a low, shaky groan. "April, I'm trying to... I have a sequence... Day 7 is when I—"

​"Fuck the Day 7."

​I pulled back just enough to look him in the eye, and before he could spout another calculation, I crashed my lips against his.

​It wasn't a "gentlemanly" kiss. It was desperate and hungry, fueled by four days of being treated like glass when I wanted to be broken. For a heartbeat, he was paralyzed, and then like a dam breaking he kissed me back. His hands slid up to cup my face, his touch possessive and raw, finally matching the fire that had been burning me up all week.

​I had him. And I wasn't letting go.

The kiss was not gentle. It was all fire, tongue and teeth, god it felt so good, I pulled my arms around his neck and deepened the kiss and he did the best thing ever. He picked me up and I instantly wrapped my legs around his waist. 

His hands went all over my back touching me wear ever he would reach I wanted more, I moaned into the kiss cupped his face and pulled away for a second “ Donnie touch me” his eyes went wide for a second but then he kissed my again pulled me into the kitchen counter and sat me down broke the kiss and started kiss my neck is lips on my neck felt so good, I healed the back of his head scared he was gonna pull away I didn't want him to stop I wanted more I grabbed his handed and pulled it gliding it to my breast and helped it firmly there. He pulled away from my neck and looked at his hand on my chest “ April!” he said shocked “ its okay Donnie keep going” I said breathless he looked at me his pupils blown wide for a second he hesitated before saying “ April are you sure am not really human you know” he said breathless himself “ Oh believe me am well aware of that” I smile and let out a breathless laugh. 

He still looks hesitant. I cup his face and pull him about into a kiss this one genital “ Donnie please I want you it's okay really.” He smiled gently. “ Okay but if at any point you want me to stop, tell me and I will.” When he said that I already knew I wasn't gonna ask him to stop he carried me to his room. I didn't have time to look around. He carried me to his bed and laid me down gently. 

He got on top of me and we start kissing again same Fire form before, I spread my legs each one to the side of his hips by hands gliding on the back of his soft shell is was smooth his handed went up to cup my brest again he broke the kiss for a second “ is this okay?” He asked and I nodded and he went back to kissing me.  

This time he squeezed and rubbed it, his hand felt so good on me he broke the kiss again “ Can I take your dress off” he asked he didn't need to ask me twice stood up and took it off in one big movement leaving me in just my bra and underwear, I laid back down and he just stood there staring at me the look on his eye was hunger, primal, animalistic. “ You look so beautiful” he said and I blushed under his gaze. He looked so hot on top of me I can tell I was already soaked. “ I did all the research I would about women pleasure but this will be my first time so if it hurt just tell me” he put his hands on my hip wear my underwear was and in one swiped movement took it off the cold air it me as I was there exploded to him he stared right at my core and I felt both embarrassed and aroused. 

He reached a hand and touched my folds pleasure rushed throughout my whole body then with his thumb he went up to my clit and started rubbing. I was moaning his first time and he knows what the clit is. I guess he did his research, he was looking at my face like he was analyzing all of my reactions. He rubbed faster. 

I moaned louder then he kissed me again he stopped for a second sat me up and took off my bra before going back to what he was going he kissed me then down to to my neck and I to my chest until he was a one of be breast and took one nipple in his mouth and sucked, his free hand playing with the other one. God this felt so good the room was filled with those loud high-pitched moans it took me a second to realize they wear mind. I never sounded like this. I was always able to control the sounds that came out of me but he was as if he was playing me like a violent me. I couldn't control the sounds that came out of my mouth. 

He moved his mouth lower and lower until he was at eyes level with my pussy he Started eating my out and my mind was going blank my eye rolled to the back of my head fucken rolled they have never done that before he was so good at it my legs wear shaking like i was having a seizure, and when he started to fuck me with his fingers at the same time the overwhelming sensation got me reach pleasure I have never felt before and then it was gone but Donnie was still eating me my vision was cloudy my mind was blank, Donnie got up and started kissing me “ Are you okay” he asked I couldn't say anything to I just look at him and nodded I gave me a second to came anck from the hight just kissing my cheeks, for head, hands and lips. 

When I caught my breath I sat up naked but Donnie? Is he also technically naked too?

“ Donnie, does your shell count as close or?” I asked no sure he laughed nervously “ Yes and No my doesn't come off I do wear the boxers tho” i looked at his shorts oh so they are boxers I reached for them but unsure or to take them off “ I want to see you” he looked at me his pupils blown wide with arousal “ I uhm.. it…um.. am not exactly human April it uhm looks different” he said nervously I knew that. I cupped his face “ Donnie I don't care what you look like, I love you. And righting know I want you inside me” he looked at my blushed but got up took off his boxers and then that part of his shell between his legs opened releasing is cock my breath hitched and I froze. 

He was big, it looked to be 9 inches, maybe more. It was a darker green, with bumps it pulsed not twitched pulsed, the head was round and it wound pump in and out with every pulse. He played with himself a little “ I know it's unsettling” and said “ oh no Donnie, it's just different and big” I say to be honest I read a lot of monster romance and if they are correct on anything it is that different is better. 

“ come here” I reached my hand to bring him close to me then I reached for his cock and stroked. He gasped it felt hard but the texture was not that much different than the rest of the skin. 

I kissed him and laid down spreading my legs “ Donnie please I can't wait anymore” “ right okay shit” he said breathless like it finally hit him that this was happening, and he positioned himself between my legs “ Tell me if it hurt” I nodded then he pushed himself inside me we both gasped, he pushed until he was fully inside it didn't hurt which I thought odd, this part always hurt a little and Donnie is bigger then anyone I been with. 

He gave me a moment to get used to it, and I think he need one to but to Revel in the file “ God April you feel so warm, and tight, and fuck it feels so good” he said it looked like he was kinda overwhelmed my whole thing but he didn't want to stop. 

Then he began moving it wasn't like anything I have ever experienced he wasn't just thrusting his cock was moving inside me the bumps felt amazing on my walls his thrust wear hard but not fast, but the side was moving fast, and then he reach that part if me that make my mind go Blake I screamed he keeps hitting that spot got I cam feel myself rising. 

Just when he was about to cum he pulled but went to rub my cilt so I could still feel it he played with it for a bit before I came myself. He laid on the bed next to me as we both caught our breath. 

We cuddled a bit until we both fell asleep. 

End ⚠️🔞

I woke up on the morning of Day 6, but I didn't open my eyes. Not yet.

​I wanted to stay in the mood. I was in Donnie’s room, wrapped in sheets that felt like silk and smelling that scent that I now realized was just home—solder, expensive tech-oil, and him. I felt a weight across my waist, a heavy, warm arm holding me like I was something precious he was afraid might drift away if he let go.

​I finally peeked an eye open. The room was bathed in a deep, cool purple light from the servers humming against the far wall. Donnie was still out cold. Without the mask and the goggles, he looked... peaceful. Vulnerable. I reached out, my fingers tracing the line where his mask usually sat.

​He stirred, his eyes fluttering open. The second he saw me, his pupils blown wide, that slow, sleepy smile pulled at his lips. He didn't say a word; he just pulled me closer, burying his face in the crook of my neck. I felt a shiver run down my spine. The tension hadn't vanished after Day 4—it had just changed shape. It was deeper now. Hotter.

​"Donnie," I whispered, my heart doing that frantic little skip. "What's the plan for today?"

​"Plan?" he murmured into my skin, his voice thick with sleep. "Logic dictates we stay exactly like this for the next three to five business days."

​I laughed, the sound muffled by the pillow. "You’re a liar. You’ve got a schedule. I saw the tablet."

​He let out a dramatic groan, finally sitting up. He looked at me, his gaze dropping to the way the sheets were draped around me, and I saw that familiar flash of "Dazzle" return to his eyes, but it was softer now. More real.

​"Fine. Day 6," he said, offering me his hand to pull me out of bed. "Today is the 'Sanctuary' phase. No ziplines. No combat simulations. Just... us. And perhaps a few minor adjustments to the laws of relaxation."

​We spent the afternoon in the cottage's glass-walled conservatory. It was a garden he’d built that didn't just grow plants—it grew memories. There were holograms of us from years ago flickering between the ferns. Little snippets of us laughing at the lair, us fighting side-by-side in the streets of New York, us just being... us.

​We had dinner on the floor of the conservatory, surrounded by the glow of the holographic lights. We were eating leftovers from the pizza war, cold but somehow tasting better than anything I'd ever had.

​"You're staring again, O'Neil," Donnie said, though he didn't look up from the orange he was peeling for me.

​"I'm allowed to stare. I'm the Queen for the week, remember?" I leaned my head on his shoulder, watching his clever fingers work. "You really outdid yourself, Dee. I don't ever want to leave."

​Donnie stopped. He set the orange down and turned to me, his expression suddenly serious. The "Dazzle" was gone. The "Genius" was gone.

​"April," he started, his hand reaching out to cup my cheek. "This week... it wasn't just about the vacation. I needed you to see what I could provide. What I would provide. If you’d have me."

​The honesty in his voice made my eyes sting. I leaned into his palm, closing my eyes. "Donnie, you had me a long time ago. You didn't need a cottage to prove that."

​He leaned in, kissing me softly—a slow, lingering kiss that tasted like the oranges and the quiet of the woods.

​"I know," he whispered against my lips. "But tomorrow is Day 7. The final day"

​I pulled back, looking at the mischievous glint returning to his eyes. "You're still not going to tell me what happens on Day 7?"

​"And ruin the suspense?" He smirked, standing up and pulling me with him. "April, I am a scientist. We save the best data for the final reveal."

​As he led me back toward the bedroom, his arm draped protectively around my shoulders, I felt a tiny chill. He was being so sweet, so perfect... but that look in his eye? That was the look of a turtle who was about to do something absolutely, historically chaotic

Chapter Text

That day we went at it 3 times at breakfast and in the afternoon and then at night that was everything we did plus cuddling I spend most of that day with zero clothes on, but I was do happy on day 

7th I wake you and Donnie was gone but he left a note the note read I have a scavenger hunt for you, you need to try and find me let's see if you can * winky face* head down for you dinner 

When I got to dinner they were I Plat with a good breakfast, and another note read eat your dinner then head to the garage.  

I ate it and did what it said, and in the garage was the Turtle Tank. With a note on it, I opened it and enjoyed a trip on memory lane I opened to take and inside were a lot of pictures of my boys and a lot more of me and Donnie! 

Pitchers of the day we frist meet are first mission us sneaking out goofing off, there was a lot of pitch goofy ones, funny ones and normal ones, there was birthdays, Christmas, Halloween, Easter. 

An then the screen flickered with Donnie “ Hey April the take is gonna take you somewhere fun, but until it gets injoy the Videos I took. 

It cut off to a must little Donnie testing testing okay recoding everything mission because mickey and Leo said that I left the the water running last night but that no true so am recording everything from know on, he was so cute it showed me cute memories and the tank started moving, of me and Donnie are fighting and banter, cute moments, silly ones 

​I woke up on Day 7 feeling... well, exhausted in the best way possible. If the last few days were a blur, yesterday was a total blackout. Between breakfast, the afternoon, and last night, I don't think we even bothered with the "Queen" wardrobe. We just stayed wrapped up in each other. I’d never felt so close to him—not just physically, but like our souls were finally calibrated to the same frequency.

​But when I reached across the bed, the sheets were cold.

​I sat up, blinking the sleep from my eyes, and found a neon-purple sticky note stuck to my forehead.

​I have a scavenger hunt for you. You need to try and find me. Let's see if you can. ;) Head down for breakfast.

​I laughed, pulling the note off. "Oh, you are such a dork, Donatello."

​I didn't even bother with a fancy dress this time. I threw on one of his oversized purple hoodies—which smelled exactly like him—and headed downstairs. Waiting on the table was a perfect plate of breakfast and another note:

​Eat up, O’Neil. You’ll need the energy. Then, head to the garage.

​I ate fast, my heart racing with excitement. When I got to the garage, I expected to see a bike or a rover. Instead, the massive doors hummed open to reveal the Turtle Tank.

​"No way," I whispered.

​Stuck to the windshield was a final note. I climbed inside, and the interior lights glowed a soft lavender. Suddenly, the main console flickered to life. I wasn't looking at maps or engine vitals; I was looking at us.

​The walls of the tank became a digital gallery. There were hundreds of pictures. Some I remembered, some I didn't even know he’d taken. There was the day we first met—back when we were just kids with big dreams and zero impulse control. There were pictures of our first missions, us sneaking out for late-night bodega runs, and so many goofy ones of us just making faces at the camera.

​I walked deeper into the tank, touching the screens. There were photos from every Christmas, every chaotic Halloween, every birthday. I saw a picture of me laughing so hard I had soda coming out of my nose, and right next to it, a shot of Donnie looking at me with that same soft, private expression he’d had all week. He’d been looking at me like that for years, and I was just now seeing it.

​Suddenly, the main screen flickered, and Donnie’s face appeared. He looked younger in the video—maybe fourteen.

​"Testing, testing. Okay, I am recording everything from now on," mini-Donnie said into the camera, looking adorable and intense. "Mikey and Leo claimed I left the water running last night and flooded the lair. Slander! Malfeasance! I am recording 24/7 to provide an airtight alibi."

​I felt a tear prick my eye. He’d started recording his life to prove a point to his brothers, but he’d ended up capturing our entire life together.

​The Tank’s engines hummed to life. "Hey April," Donnie’s current voice broke through the speakers, sounding warm and a little nervous. "The Tank is going to take you somewhere fun. Until it gets there, enjoy the highlights. I... I did some editing."

​The Tank began to move, rolling smoothly through the woods. As it drove, the screens played a montage of our greatest hits. It showed our best banter, the times we’d saved each other’s lives, and the quiet moments in the lab where we’d fallen asleep over blueprints. It showed me every time I’d punched his arm in a "thanks for being there" kind of way, and every time he’d upgraded my bat just because he wanted me to stay safe.

​It was everything. It was our whole world.

​I sat in the pilot’s chair, watching the videos of us growing up together, and I realized Day 7 wasn't just a vacation day. It was a confession. He didn't have to say "I love you" out loud—he’d built a tank and a cottage and a week of memories to say it for him.

​"I'm coming for you, Dee," I whispered, watching the trees fly by outside the reinforced glass.

​I was happy. I was so incredibly happy. But as the Tank began to slow down and a strange, shimmering light appeared in the distance, I remembered his warning.

The Turtle Tank didn't just drive; it navigated our history. As it rolled out of the cottage driveway, the interior screens flickered with a map of New York, but instead of street names, it showed heart icons over specific coordinates.

​Each time the Tank stopped, a small mechanical compartment would pop open with a physical card and a little holographic "memory" of that spot.

​Stop 1: The Old 24-Hour Bodega

​The Tank idled near a holographic projection of that dingy corner store. A card slid out of the dash.

​Donnie’s Note: "I love the way you never apologize for your appetite. That night we shared a $2 sandwich after fighting a kraken, you looked more satisfied than a billionaire at a steakhouse. Your joy is infectious, O'Neil. It’s a variable I can’t help but want to be around."

​Stop 2: The Rooftop overlooking TCRI

​The screens showed a playback of us at sixteen, panting and covered in soot after a narrow escape.

​Donnie’s Note: "I love your courage. Most people see a giant robot and run; you see a giant robot and look for a baseball bat. You make me feel like we’re invincible, even when my sensors say we have a 12% chance of survival. I’d take that 12% with you over a 100% with anyone else."

​Stop 3: The Library (Our first 'Study Date')

​The Tank grew quiet here. The screens showed me asleep over a textbook while Donnie secretly adjusted the lamp so the light wouldn't hit my eyes.

​Donnie’s Note: "I love your mind. You’re the only person who can keep up with my tangents and then tell me I’m being an 'idiot' in a way that makes me want to be better. You are the only person I consider an intellectual equal... okay, fine, a superior. Don't let Leo know I said that."

​Stop 4: The Construction Site (The first time I saved him)

​The Tank rumbled as it played a clip of me pulling Donnie out of a collapsing floor.

​Donnie’s Note: "I love how you see me. You don't just see the 'smart one' or the 'tech guy.' You see me when I’m scared, when I’m tired, and when I’m failing. You caught me that day, and you’ve been catching me ever since. I’ve spent seven days trying to be your King, but the truth is, I’ve been your devoted subject since we were kids.”

It was pitch black by the time the Turtle Tank hummed to its final stop. I was still sitting in the back, surrounded by the glow of our memories, when Donnie’s voice crackled through the speakers, sounding more formal than I’d ever heard him.

​"And finally," he began, his voice dropping an octave, "a big surprise. Please put on the garment located in the compartment to your left. I... I designed and fabricated it myself."

​A light flickered on, revealing a dark purple dress. It was stunning—the fabric looked like liquid midnight, shimmering with a subtle tech-weave that caught the light. I slipped it on, feeling the weight of the hand-stitched silk, and stepped into the matching heels he’d provided. I felt like a different person. I felt like the woman he had spent seven days building a kingdom for.

​The Tank doors hissed open.

​I gasped. A long red carpet stretched from the Tank all the way to the front door of the cottage, lined on both sides by hundreds of flickering candles. Soft, orchestral music began to play, echoing through the quiet woods. It felt like the world had narrowed down to just this path and me.

​I walked the carpet, my heels clicking softly, and pushed open the front door.

​The room was dark, but thousands of fairy lights were draped from the ceiling, pulsing slowly like fireflies in a summer field. The floor was a sea of red rose petals. The carpet continued, leading me straight into the heart of the living room, where a massive heart—made of thousands of fresh red roses—took up the entire center of the floor.

​And there he was.

​Donnie was standing in the middle of the heart, wearing a sharp purple suit with a yellow tie that matched my favorite color. He looked regal. He looked nervous. He looked like he was watching his entire world walk toward him. It felt like I was walking down the aisle, the air thick with a love so heavy I could taste it.

​I finally reached him, my heart hammering against my ribs. I reached out, poking a single finger against his chest. "Got you," I whispered.

​Donnie let out a shaky, relieved laugh. "April... I hope everything is... statistically satisfactory?"

​"I loved it," I said, a wide, tearful smile breaking across my face. "I loved all of it, Dee."

​Donnie took a deep breath, reaching out to take both of my hands in his. His gaze was intense, stripping away every bit of the "Dazzle" persona. This was just my Donnie.

​"April, for the last note and the last day... I wanted to say that I love you. I have for a long, long time. You’re my best friend, the person who knows my blueprints and my soul. But I want us to be more than that."

​He squeezed my hands, his voice dropping to a low, hopeful vibration. "So, with that being said... I wanted to ask if you would be my lab partner. My best support. My right-hand woman. My partner for life. April O'Neil... will you be my girlfriend?"

​The tears finally broke. I was crying—real, messy, happy tears. He had done all of this—the cottage, the flying, the memories, the dresses—just to ask me what my heart had already answered years ago. He lived in every part of me.

​"Yes! YES! A hundred percent yes!"

​I didn't wait for him to say another word. I jumped into his arms, wrapping my legs around his waist and my arms around his neck. I crashed my lips against his, a kiss that felt like coming home after a long war. Donnie caught me effortlessly, spinning me around in the center of that heart of roses, his laughter mingling with mine.

​If this was a dream, I never wanted to wake up. I was a Queen, I was a warrior, and finally, I was his.

Waking up in Donnie’s arms didn't feel like a dream anymore; it felt like a promise. We spent the morning packing, though "packing" mostly involved me stealing a few more of his hoodies and Donnie making sure every single dress he’d made for me was carefully stowed in the Turtle Tank’s pressurized storage.

​"We really have to go back?" I asked, watching him run a final diagnostic on the cottage’s security systems.

​Donnie paused, looking around the sanctuary he’d built for us. "Logic dictates that our absence has reached its maximum threshold for Mikey’s sanity. If we stay another day, he will likely attempt to track us down using a divining rod made of pizza crusts."

​I laughed, but as we walked toward the Tank, a little knot of nerves formed in my stomach. I was wearing one of the sundresses he’d picked for me—a soft lilac one—feeling more like "April" than I had in years, but a different version of her.

​The drive back was quiet, but it wasn't the heavy silence of the first day. I sat in the co-pilot’s seat, leaning my head on Donnie’s shoulder. My hand was resting on his arm, and his hand—warm and steady—rested firmly on my thigh. It felt natural. Like this was the way it was always supposed to be.

​"So," I murmured, watching the trees turn back into the gray concrete of the city. "How are we doing this? Do we just walk in and announce it? Or do you have a holographic presentation prepared?"

​Donnie smirked, his fingers drumming against the steering wheel. "A presentation would be the most efficient. I have already drafted several charts detailing our compatibility and the projected increase in team morale now that my 'yearning' subroutines have been satisfied."

​"Donnie, no charts," I groaned, though I was smiling.

​"Fine. No charts." He squeezed my leg, his expression softening as he looked at me. "I’m a little... apprehensive as well, April. Our dynamic is the foundation of the team. If Leo makes even one 'mother' joke, I may have to relocate him to the moon."

​"We'll handle them," I promised, taking his hand and interlacing our fingers. "Nothing is going to change between us and the guys. We’re still a team. We’re just... us now."

​As the Turtle Tank rumbled into the hidden entrance of the lair, I took a deep breath. I was scared of the change, sure. But then I looked at Donnie—my boyfriend, my lab partner, my best friend—and realized that as long as I had him, I could handle any joke Leo threw our way.

​The Tank hissed to a stop. The bay doors opened, and I could already hear Mikey’s shouting and the sound of a skateboard hitting the concrete.

​"Ready?" Donnie asked, his purple eyes locking onto mine with that brilliant, confident "Dazzle."

​I squeezed his hand. "Ready."

Chapter Text

Leo POV 

​Okay, look. Something is off. And I don’t mean "Donnie-forgot-to-wear-deodorant" off. I mean villain off.

​It’s been three months since we met Big Mama’s "Mini-Me" squad, and they haven't done a single thing. Zero. Zilch. Nada. Usually, when a baddie waits this long, it’s because they’re cooking up a plot so spicy it’ll melt our shells. I’ve got my "Leader Senses" on high alert, even if Raph says that’s just me being paranoid and "annoying." (Rude).

​But speaking of spicy plots... can we talk about the scandal of the century? Donnie and April are dating. I know! Hold your applause! We were all shook. Mikey basically turned into a one-man paparazzi team, following them around with a microphone made of a whisk and a spoon, asking: "So, Don-Don, at what precise millisecond did your cold, robotic heart start beating for our girl April?" Raph was just standing there with his jaw on the floor like a giant, confused turtle-statue. I mean, I knew Donnie was pining—the guy wasn't exactly subtle with his 40-page 'Reasons Why April O'Neil is Mathematically Perfect' spreadsheets—but dang. Major glow-up for the tech-wiz.

​And Dad? Oh, Dad is living his best life. He told Donnie, and I quote: "Purple, do not mess this up. I have already picked out my outfit for the wedding and I will not be denied my daughter-in-law!" No pressure, Dee. Just the weight of our entire family legacy on your shoulders.

​We all thought Donnie was locked in his lab doing "serious science" for two weeks, and we thought April was busy taking down that absolute creep catfisher. (Sidebar: April absolutely slayed in court. 29 years! No parole! We watched it on the monitors with popcorn. Best legal drama ever).

​Turns out? They weren’t working. They were on a stay-cation at some fancy-pants cottage Donnie bought! He claimed it was a "Strategic Post-Krang Tactical Safe House," which—fair, nice save, Dee. We all have keys now, but Raph started asking about the bill. Turns out, Tello has been a secret high-roller! Apparently, "Freelance Coding" and "Illegal-Adjacent Crypto-Mining" pays way better than being a Ninja. Who knew?

​But since Big Mama is still lurking, I’ve been stepping up. I told Splinter we needed to get serious. He gave me the usual "I am watching my stories, Blue" excuse, so Donnie and I formed an unholy alliance. Donnie threatened to turn off the Wi-Fi and the cable.

​It was a bloodbath.

​Now, I flip the router switch every morning. No Mahjong for Dad until we sweat! And honestly? He’s actually killing it. He made Raph train blindfolded to fix that "giant-sized" blind spot, and Raph is back to his usual "Smash-Everything" self, but better. He made Mikey do these crazy handstand-drills to get his wrist strength back to 100%.

​And for me? He’s got me doing these "slow-motion flow" movements. I was a little stiff after the Krang mess, but I’ve been secret-training for a while now, so I’m basically a liquid. I’m like water, baby.

​Even Casey (Future Boy!) has been joining in. He was so hyped to see Donnie and April together. Mikey tries to get spoilers out of him every day: "Do I have a girlfriend in the future? Is she a skater? Does she like pineapple on pizza?" But Casey just gives us that "I’ve seen things" look and says he doesn't want to cause a Butterfly Effect. Boring!

​To be fair, the "Donnie + April" thing hasn't changed that much. They’ve always been two halves of the same chaotic brain. It’s just now there’s way more whispering, way more "eye-contact," and way too much cuddling on the sofa. And—shudder—one time I walked into the lab without knocking... let’s just say I need to bleach my retinas.

​They’ve been disappearing on their own a lot lately. Doing "couple stuff." I’m happy for them, really. But as the "Face of the Group," I can’t help but feel the chill in the air.

​Big Mama is coming. And I just hope "Love-Struck Donnie" remembers how to throw a punch when the webs start closing in.

I’ve been sneaking out. Don’t tell Raph; he’ll give me the "A Leader Stays With the Team" lecture, and I’ve already reached my quota for those this month. Casey usually tags along, but after he almost got us busted by a passing Foot Bot last time, I’ve been flying solo.

​I was at my usual training spot—an abandoned construction site with a killer view of the skyline—when that feeling came back. Like someone was burning a hole in the back of my skull with their eyes.

​I’ve been feeling it for a while now. Every time I look? Nothing. Empty air. But thanks to Donnie’s book, “How to Override Every Camera in New York: A Guide for the Tech-Savvy Fugitive” (seriously, why does he write these things? It’s basically a 'How-To' for villains, but thank god I'm the one using it), I’d disabled the local grid. No eyes on me.

​Or so I thought.

​The feeling got stronger. Heavier. I didn’t stop my kata, but I shifted my grip on my katanas. Someone was close. Really close. I felt a presence right behind me and I didn't think—I just spun. My blade hissed through the air, stopping exactly three inches from a girl’s face.

​She didn’t even flinch. She just looked at me like I was a minor inconvenience.

​"You again," I hissed, my heart hammering against my ribs. "What do you want, V?"

​She smiled, reaching out with one finger to gently push the tip of my sword away. "Careful there, Blue. You could really hurt someone’s eyes."

​She walked past me with a swagger that made mine look like a limp. She hopped up onto a broken railing, sitting criss-cross-apple-sauce and looking out at the city like she owned it.

​"Why are you here?" I asked, my eyes locked on her. I wasn't falling for the casual act.

​"To watch you train," she said simply. Like we were old pals and this was our Tuesday routine.

​"Why? So you can get to know my moves? Learn how to defend yourself against the 'Face of the Group'?"

​I wasn't amused, but she didn't care. She hopped off the railing and walked toward me, hands behind her back, moving so calmly it was eerie. She got right into my space—I mean, uncomfortably close. I had to pull back, and the second I shifted my weight—

​BAM!

​A kick caught me square in the stomach. I went flying, my back hitting a concrete wall so hard I heard my teeth rattle. I gasped for air, clutching my gut.

​"Leo," she said, her voice dropping to a terrifying chill. "If I wanted to, you would already be tied up and shipped to a different country, never to be seen again. If I wanted you dead? You’d be a memory."

​I struggled to my feet, wheezing. "That’s not... fair. You caught me... off guard."

​She was looking at her nails, bored. "Leo, a real ninja knows he should always catch his opponent off guard. But if you still doubt me..."

​She slipped into a low, fluid stance. I growled, charging in, swinging my swords in a blur of blue light. She dodged every single strike. She wasn't even attacking; she was just... moving. Like she was made of air. Every time I thought I had a line on her, she’d just poke me. A little finger-jab to my shoulder, my hip, my knee.

​Every poke sent me tumbling to the ground. It was humiliating. I’d get back up, lunging again, only for the same thing to happen. After the fifth time, I lost it.

​"Okay, what the hell was that?!" I yelled, frustrated.

​"It’s called skill and proper training," she said, her voice hardening. "You're good, but you could be so much better."

​Then, she actually started hitting me more strongly. She hit me—not as hard as the kick, it was like she was trying to prove a point.

​Hit. " You're Unskilled."

Kick. "Untrained."

Jab. "Reckless."

Sweep. "Impulsive."

Hit. "And mostly of all... unworthy." She said with each hit. 

​She finished with a roundhouse kick that sent my sword flying out of my hand. She caught it out of the air and pointed the tip directly at my throat as I hit the dirt.

​I looked up at her, stunned. And—God, help me—I felt a blush creeping up my neck. Leo, no! She is the enemy! Get it together! But she looked so pretty... and she was right, she could have really hurt me if she wanted to, but she was holding back. Then again, so was I... Leo, shut up! Let's see what she wants.

​"So then, what's the plan here? Gonna kick me to death? I will warn you this may take a while"

​She laughed. A real, genuine giggle. "You're funny."

​She thinks I'm funny? "Thanks," I quipped, trying to get my swagger back. "Been years in the making."

​Her smile faded into something more serious. "If there is one thing I hate in this world, it’s wasted talent. You’re the worst kind of 'good' because you’re not even 'great'."

​"Excuse me? What is that supposed to mean?"

​"It means you got lucky," she said, spinning my sword in her hand before handing it back hilt-first. "Your talent got you this far, but your luck will runs out. And when it does, you’re left with nothing but a grave."

​I grabbed my sword back, bristling. "I have a Sensei! Dad is teaching us right now! Don't you know we’re part of the Tomato—I mean, Hamato Clan!"

​The mention of the name changed her instantly. A flash of pure, cold rage crossed her face.

​"The Hamato Clan were great warriors," she said, her voice like ice. "Warriors who rewrote what it meant to be a ninja. You guys are the last members of this clan, and you disgrace it with your lack of training and discipline."

​That hit me right in the soul. It wasn't the first time anyone had said that. Gram-Gram said it.

​"Hey!" I barked back. "We’ve saved the world like, a dozen times. I think we made the ancestors proud!"

​She looked at me with a look so cold I felt my blood freeze. "A Hamato ninja has to save the world from threats like the Krang! Everyday you're not as special as you think you are!"

​And with that, she walked back to sit on the broken railing.

​"Okay, then why are you here? Just to show off how strong you are? To make me doubt myself?"

​She looked at me, then looked away at the horizon. "I’m not supposed to be here. I just came because I wanted to see it for myself."

​"See what?"

​She didn't move her head, just her eyes, locking onto mine. "To see if you are the greatest ninja the world will ever see."

​My heart stopped. Then it started beating really hard.

​"There is a prophecy," she continued. "Big Mama thought it was Lou Jitsu. She was wrong."

​She looked at me like she was looking for something—it felt like she was seeing into my soul.

​"Okay, why are you telling me this? What are you looking for, and what is your connection with the Hamato clan?"

​She didn't say anything.

​"I will see you again... Oh Great Leader," she said with a smirk. Then, she simply leaned back, falling off the building backwards.

​"V! Wait!" I sprinted to the edge, looking down at the drop.

​Nothing. She was gone.

​I stood there alone in the dark, my stomach aching and my head spinning. The greatest ninja the world will ever see? Me?

​"Great," I muttered, rubbing my arm. "Now I have a prophecy and a crush on a girl who wants to kick my teeth in. Typical Wednesday."

 I couldn't sleep. My brain was doing backflips, and not the cool kind I get paid for.

​What was V up to? The first time we met, she was all "mwahaha, I'm a scary villain," but tonight? She seemed... confused. Curious. It got me thinking—most of the people who work for Big Mama aren't exactly there for the dental plan. They’ve got debts, or they’re being forced. Maybe she didn't choose this life?

​And then, a little voice in the back of my head—the one that usually tells me to eat leftovers from the floor—whispered: I can fix her. "Oh no," I groaned into my pillow. "I’ve become one of those girls from the movies. I’m the 'I can fix the bad boy' girl. This is a new low for the Leon."

​But seriously, she knew about our clan. She admired the Hamatos. If she likes the good guys, she must be a good guy, right? Unless... Oh god. Please don't let her be related to me. If she turns out to be Dad’s long-lost daughter from his human movie-star days, I will literally jump into a trash compactor. I do not need a sister who can kick my teeth in. I already have three brothers who try!

​The next night, I went back. I wasn't training this time; I was waiting. I sat on the ground, legs crossed, trying to look all "mysterious and brooding" like a protagonist in a manga.

​Suddenly, a voice whispered right in my ear: "Waiting for me?"

​"AHHH! MOTHER Fucker!" I scrambled backward, tripping over my own feet and landing in a very un-cool heap.

​V stood there, laughing. And why did she have to look so beautiful doing it? It’s not fair. It’s a tactical disadvantage.

​"You really need to work on being aware of your surroundings, Blue," she teased.

​"Okay, first off? You scared the absolute shit out of me! Don't do that!" I huffed, dusting off my shell. "Second, I’ll have you know I am very aware. You’re just, like you said, 'more skilled' or whatever."

​"So you admit it?" she said, looking way too satisfied.

​"You kicked my butt, V. The bruises have feelings. I’m man enough to admit when I've played."

​She giggled. "Oh yeah. Fun times."

​"Are you gonna answer any of my questions tonight? Or am I just here for your amusement?"

​"Nope," she popped the 'p'. Great. Fantastic.

​"So then what's the deal?" I asked, crossing my arms. "Sneaking out? Meeting the enemy in secret? That’s not very 'loyal henchwoman' to you. Aren't you supposed to be all disciplined and obedient to Big Mama?"

​V raised an eyebrow. "I don't see you trying to live by example, 'Leader'."

​"I'll have you know I am a great role model!" I said, putting on my most genuine "Hero" face.

​"Is that why you're always getting yelled at by your brothers? You don't see anyone yelling at me."

​Oh, she wanted to go there? Fine. "Okay, smarty-pants. What if I marched right down to the Battle Nexus and told Big Mama exactly what you're doing? What would she say then?"

​V didn't even blink. She pulled out her phone, dialed a number, and hit speaker. My heart stopped.

​"Hello, my dear! Do you need something, my sparkly little blueberry?" Big Mama’s voice chirped through the phone, sounding like a bubbly cloud of doom.

​V looked me dead in the eye and spoke perfectly calmly. "Hey Mama. I just wanted to let you know I snuck out. I'm planning to get black-out drunk, talk to a bunch of boys that will fuck the living day light ou of me, and I'm probably not coming home for a week because I'll be too busy getting pregnant and abandoning you for a homeless man."

​My jaw hit the floor. I think I actually stopped breathing.

​"Oh hohoo! Well, have fun, my dear!" Big Mama giggled. "Just don't forget to wear a coat, it's chilly-willy outside! Toodles!"

​Click.

​V tucked her phone away and gave me a smug, satisfied look. I was shocked to my core. She wasn't being forced. She wasn't scared. She just... did whatever she wanted, and Big Mama was totally fine with it?

​"You..." I pointed at her, my brain short-circuiting. "You just... she... what?!"

​V leaned against the railing, looking like she’d just won the lottery. "Like I said, Blue. Nobody yells at me."

​I have to admit, on one hand, I think she just got way cooler. I would give anything to have nobody telling me what to do, but people actually seem to respect her. She doesn't have to bark orders; they just follow.

​"Are you like, the big leader of your group or what?" I asked, watching her.

​"We don't really have a leader," she said, looking at the city lights. "We work as a team. Everyone knows their role. I guess I'm just the one with the plan. I direct them, but they do their own thing. We trust each other. I might not know what they're up to every second, but I know they'll get it done. And they trust me enough to follow."

​She looked at me sideways. "Do you not want to be?" I asked, feeling like she had the answer to all my problems.

​It felt like she was reading my mind. "Not really," she said simply. "But at the end of the day, I’m just there to look out for my team. They trust me. If they don’t come to me, I don't bother them unless I really need to."

​Okay, that sounds very leader-like, even if she won't call it that. It definitely made me think. "Then what do you do if people don't listen? Or if they question you?"

​V looked bored. "This is starting to sound like you're asking me for advice, Blue. Easy—if people don't listen, let them learn the hard way. They'll realize you were right and they should have listened. Let them make their own mistakes. And as a person in charge, people are always gonna question you. It's not because they don't trust you; people just need to feel reassured. As a leader, you should give them that. There’s a difference between asking you questions and questioning you. If they’re asking, answer them. If they’re questioning you... then you’re doing something wrong."

​I felt a weight lift off my shoulders. Maybe she wasn't as bad as she seemed.

​"Then answer me—why are you helping me?"

​She smiled, like she was waiting for me to ask, and I did not disappoint. "I see something in you, Leo. You have greatness within."

​Then she headed out to leave. "See you next time, Face Man." She jumped off again, and once again, I tried stopping her, but she was gone.

The next day, I decided to test V’s "advice." If she was right, and I actually had "greatness" or whatever—and not just a great skincare routine—I had to prove it.

​I didn't walk into the dojo acting like a drill sergeant. I walked in with a box of donuts and a smirk.

​"Alright, listen up, losers! And I say that with the utmost affection," I chirped, tossing a glazed donut at Raph. "Dad’s letting me lead today. And since I’m a benevolent ruler, we’re doing things my way."

​Everyone looked at me like I’d sprouted a second head. Raph looked ready to reclaim his "Leader" title by sitting on me, but I held up a hand.

​"Raph, big guy, you’re a tank. But even tanks get stuck in the mud. You’re too reliant on that 'smash-first' instinct. Today, you’re training in the dark. If you can’t see the target, you have to feel the air move. Speed and balance, big red. That’s the goal."

​He blinked, actually looking impressed. Then I turned to Donnie.

​"Tello. Stop it."

​Donnie paused mid-sentence. "Stop what? I haven't even finished my opening sarcasm."

​"Stop over-calculating. You’re trying to solve for X while someone is trying to punch you in the Y. I want you to fight without your tech. Just your shell and your staff. Move before your brain can tell you why it’s a bad idea."

​"That is statistically the worst advice I’ve ever—"

​"Do it, Dee," I said, and for a second, I let the "Serious Leo" voice slip out. The one that sounded like I actually knew what I was doing. He went quiet and nodded.

​And Mikey. My sweet, chaotic Dr. Delicate Touch. "Mikey, you’ve got the spark. But your body is trying to fight the magic instead of being the conduit. We’re gonna meditate. Casey told me Future You could literally tear holes in reality. Let’s start with... I don't know, floating a few inches?"

​I spent the whole session actually watching them. Not just waiting for my turn to look cool, but seeing where they were weak. It was like V said—I wasn't "The Boss." I was the director. I was looking out for my team.

​By the end of it, Raph actually gave me a fist bump. "Good lead, Leo. You actually... stayed focused."

​"Don't get used to it! I have a reputation to uphold!" I joked, but inside? I felt ten feet tall. Dad looked at me from the corner of the room, and the look in his eyes... man, that was better than any "Queen Treatment" Donnie got.

​That night, I met V at the construction site. I told her everything. I expected her to mock me, but she just hummed, looking actually... surprised?

​"You listened," she murmured.

​"I have my moments! Now, enough talk. Train me. I’m tired of being the guy who gets lucky. I want to be the guy who’s better."

​I got down on my knees—partly because my legs were shaking and partly to show I was serious.

​For the next three months, my life was a montage.

​Morning: Splinter’s old-school discipline.

​Afternoon: Leading the guys, pushing them to be the best versions of themselves (and listening to Donnie complain about his 'primitive' non-tech training).

​Late Night: The real grind.

​V didn't go easy on me. She used me as a literal punching bag. She’d sweep my legs and, while I was falling, tell me my center of gravity was too high. She’d jab me in the ribs and tell me I was telegraphing my left hook.

​We became... whatever we were. Frienemies? Rivals? I tried the "Rival" thing once. She just laughed that beautiful, annoying laugh. "Rivals are equals, Blue. And I’m still the one holding the sword to your throat."

​She was all business, but we had our moments. She was funny in a sharp, biting way. She was confident. She was everything I wanted to be. Sometimes she’d give me a pointer, then disappear into the shadows before I could even say thanks.

​But three months in, I wasn't the same turtle who walked into Big Mama's hotel. I was faster. I was smarter. And I was definitely, 100%, in way over my head with a girl who was technically supposed to be my enemy.

​"Great," I muttered, nursing a fresh bruise on my arm as I watched her silhouette vanish against the moon. "I'm finally becoming a great leader. And the first thing I did was fall for the girl who’s probably gonna have to kidnap me next week. Typical Leon luck.”

Chapter Text

​Leo POV

The morning sun didn't even reach the Lair, but I was already up, humming a tune and actually—don’t tell anyone—making my bed. I felt like a guy who had a secret, and that secret was the only thing keeping my heart beating.

​In the kitchen, the atmosphere was thick enough to choke on. Donnie and April were sharing a single earbud, whispering about "latent gravitational anomalies," their hands intertwined over a plate of toast. It was a whole lot of feelings before 9:00 AM.

​"Ugh, seriously?" I groaned, grabbing a juice box. I leaned against the counter, giving Donnie a look. "Don-nie. My twin. My brother-in-science. Can you two not be 'mathematically perfect' for five minutes? Some of us are trying to have a cynical morning and you're making the air taste like syrup."

​Donnie didn’t even look up from his tablet, but he squeezed April's hand a little tighter. "Jealousy is a green-eyed monster, Leo. Though in your case, it’s just a green-skinned turtle with no game."

​"I have plenty of game!" I defended, a bit too quickly.

​"I think it’s adorable!" Mikey chirped, sliding into the kitchen on his knees. "Look at them! They’re like two little love-birds in a nest of technology and sarcasm! Can I make heart-shaped pancakes? I’m making heart-shaped pancakes!"

​Then, Raph stomped in. He looked like he’d just seen a ghost—or worse, a romantic comedy. He stared at Donnie and April’s interlaced fingers and made a face like he’d just swallowed a lemon dipped in mustard.

​"Eww! Guys! No! Stop!" Raph gestured wildly with his spatula. "April is like our sister, Dee! This is... this is a violation of the 'Big Dog' safety code! Can we not do the... the cuddly thing? It’s gross! I’m trying to eat oatmeal, and now I can taste the PDA!"

​Donnie finally looked up, raising a single, judgmental eyebrow at Raph. He leaned over and pointedly kissed April’s cheek, lingering just long enough to make Raph’s eye twitch.

​"As you can clearly tell, Raph, I have never thought of her as a sister," Donnie said, his voice dripping with that classic Othello-level drama.

​"ACK! MY EYES!" Raph wailed, shielding his face.

​"Relax, Big Red!" I chirped, stepping in and patting his massive, shaking shoulder before he could actually melt into the floor. "Love is in the air! Embrace the chaos!"

​"I don't want to embrace it, I want to bleach it out of my brain!" Raph grumbled, retreating to the far end of the table.

An hour later, we were in the dojo. Or, as I liked to call it: The Room of Disappointment.

​Splinter stood there, holding a "Rat-of-the-Week" magazine in one hand and a stale churro in the other. "Yes, yes... Blue One, do the... the swooshy thing with the swords. Orange One, keep jumping. Raph, try not to break the floor. I must get back to my stories; the season finale of Rat-Island is starting."

​I watched him shuffle away, and a familiar spark of resentment flickered in my chest. We’d had to force him to train us. We’d had to beg for the crumbs of his mastery. Even now, he looked like he’d rather be anywhere else. He was a legend, a master, but as a teacher? He was a ghost. He was just putting in the time until he could get back to his recliner.

​My mind drifted to the rooftops. To V.

​When V trained me, she was there. Every muscle in her body was focused on my form. She didn't look at a magazine; she looked at my feet, my grip, the way I breathed. She was intense, brutal, and dangerous—but she wanted to teach me. She wanted me to be better, even if it was just so I’d be a more interesting opponent.

​She’s a better teacher than my own father, I thought, a bitter taste in my mouth. At least when she hits me, it’s because she’s actually paying attention.

Later that night, the city was a neon playground until we saw them. They were at a high-tech lab, moving with a precision that made my brothers look like amateurs.

​Raph’s habits kicked in instantly. "There they are! Mad Dogz, let’s move! No more PDA, just PAIN!"

​We dropped in, and the chaos started.

​Tigerclaw immediately zeroed in on Raph. She had her hood up, her Russian accent cutting through the wind like a siren. "Back for more, Big Red? You are so predictable. It is almost adorable."

​Raph turned a shade of crimson that matched his mask, swinging his Sais wildly while she just danced around him, laughing. Every time he lunged, she gave him a little tip. "Too much weight on my left foot, Raphael! You trip like a baby giraffe!"

​Then there was LD. He was a punk-rock dream—locks flowing, leather jacket open to show off those granite abs. Mikey was practically fanboying mid-fight.

​"LD! Dude! That jacket is a choice! Is that genuine faux-leather? It looks so punk!" Mikey yelled, flipping over a crate.

​LD didn't hit him. He never did. He just swerved around Mikey with a chuckle. "Stay gold, Little Orange," he said, before sticking a foot out to trip Donnie, who was busy trying to scan their equipment.

​And then... there was V.

​She stood in the center of the storm, the mastermind. I lunged at her, my katanas humming with blue energy. "Miss me, V? I know the nights are lonely without your favorite target."

​"You talk too much, Blue," she said. She didn't even draw a weapon. She just moved—a blur of dark energy and precision.

​Every time I thought I had a line on her, she wasn't there. She caught my wrist, spun me, and delivered a kick to my shell that sent me sliding across the gravel.

​"You can't win this," she said, looking down at me with those cold, beautiful, ink-black eyes. "Stay out of our way."

​They vanished with the crates before we could even catch our breath. Raph was fuming, steam practically coming out of his ears. "Again! They got away again! As the oldest, I’m telling you, we’re doing something wrong!"

​"They're just better, Raph," I said, my voice steady, though my heart was still racing from the look she gave me. "We'll get 'em next time.”

Later that night 

The construction site was a skeleton of rusted steel and shadows, but under the moonlight, it felt like a stage. V was already there, leaning against a crane with that effortless, dark authority that usually made me want to bow—or crack a joke. Tonight, I chose the joke.

​"You know, for a mastermind, you spend a lot of time waiting for me in the dark. If I didn't know better, I’d say you were eager."

​She didn't move. "I'm punctual, Blue. Something you should try."

​I didn't argue. I pulled both my katanas from my back, the mystic metal humming as they caught the blue glow of my energy. With a flick of my wrist, I tossed the right blade toward her. It spun through the air like a silver coin. She caught it by the hilt without even looking, her fingers wrapping around the grip of my family’s steel.

​"It’s a dance, V," I smirked, falling into a low, predatory stance. "Show me what the 'Mastermind' can do with a Hamato blade."

​She lunged.

​The world didn't just go quiet; it disappeared. The city noise, my brothers' voices, the weight of being the leader—it all evaporated. There was nothing left but the rhythm of our breathing and the shring of steel meeting steel.

​She was fast. Terrifyingly fast. She moved like smoke, shifting her weight with a grace that was purely lethal. I knew—deep down in my gut—that she could have ended this in a heartbeat. She could have disarmed me, swept my legs, and had a blade to my throat before I could blink.

​But she didn't.

​She was letting the fight breathe. Every time I swung, she met me with just enough force to keep the momentum going. We were circling each other, a blur of neon blue and dark silk. I was laughing, my trash-talk coming out between heavy breaths.

​"Is that all? I’ve seen Foot Bots with better aim, V! You're slipping!"

​"And you're over-extending," she bit back, her voice a low, dangerous purr. "If I wanted you dead, Blue, we wouldn't be talking."

​"Then why aren't we?" I countered, stepping into her space.

​Our blades locked at the hilts, the metal grinding together with a shower of blue sparks. We were so close I could feel the heat radiating off her skin. Her hair—that sharp, perfect cut—moved with her like a shadow. She was breathtaking. Even through the mask, her eyes were like deep, bottomless wells of ink. Most people would find them cold, but I saw it—the spark. The tiny, flickering light behind the "Mastermind" mask that she couldn't quite extinguish.

​My heart wasn't just pounding; it was trying to break out of my chest.

​I pushed against her blade, testing her, my eyes locked onto hers. "You can't hide it, you know. Your eyes don't lie as well as your mouth does."

​"You see what you want to see, Leonardo," she hissed, but her grip on the sword faltered for a fraction of a second.

​I took the opening. I feinted a high strike, then dropped low, spinning and using the hilt of my remaining sword to hook her elbow. I used her own momentum to pivot, driving her back until her shell hit a massive steel pillar with a dull thud.

​The swords clattered to the concrete, forgotten.

​I had her. I was leaning in, my arms braced on either side of her head, pinning her to the cold metal. I was panting, my chest heaving against hers, the physical tension so thick I could practically taste it. The air between our faces was electric, charged with everything we weren't allowed to say.

​V was composed, but I could see the pulse jumping in her neck. Her eyes were wide, darting from my eyes down to my lips, then back up. For the first time, she looked... vulnerable. Like a girl who had spent her whole life building walls and just realized someone was finally standing on the other side.

​The "Face Man" was gone. The "Joker" was gone. I just wanted her.

​I leaned in closer, my voice dropping to a whisper that was barely audible over the wind. "Admit it. You don't want to kill me. You don't even want to fight me."

​She didn't pull away. For one glorious, heart-stopping second, she leaned into me. The world stood still. This was the moment—the bridge between the hero and the villain.

​Then, her hand came up, flat against the center of my chest. It wasn't a shove, but it was a wall.

​"Leo, stop," she breathed. Her voice was steady, but there was a tremor in it that broke my heart. "This... this can’t happen."

​"V—"

​"I am training you," she said, her voice regaining its icy edge as she finally pushed me back. I stumbled, the cold air rushing back into the space where she had been. "That is the extent of our 'partnership.' When this is over—when you are the leader your family needs—I am going back to being the person who destroys you."

​The sting was sharp, like a physical blade to the ribs. But as she reached down to pick up the sword I’d given her, I saw her hand shake.

​She tossed the sword back to me, the blue light fading as she stepped into the shadows of the crane. "You are a fool, Leonardo. You need to remember your place... as do I. We are enemies. This was a lesson, nothing more."

​She vaulted over the edge and vanished into the night without a backward glance.

​I stood there for a long time, my skin still tingling where she’d touched me. I could still smell her—that dark, expensive scent that didn't belong in a construction site. I looked down at my sword, then back at the empty space she left behind.

​"Oh," I whispered, a slow, determined grin spreading across my face. "She definitely loves me."

​I wasn't giving up. I’ve fought aliens, monsters, and demons, but this? This was the biggest challenge of all. She had a mountain of "villain" baggage, but I saw the girl behind the ink-black eyes.

​"I can fix her," I muttered, opening a portal back to the lair. "She’s just never had someone stubborn enough to try.”

Raph POV

​Something was rotten in the state of New York. And I’m not talking about the sewer smell—that’s homey. I’m talking about Leo.

​For the last few days, my baby brother has been acting… responsible. And let me tell you, "Responsible Leo" is a hundred times scarier than "Evil Kraang Leo."

​"Okay, Raph, focus!" Leo chirped, clapping his hands together. He looked like he’d slept for maybe twenty minutes, his eyes slightly puffy, but he was vibrating with this weird, nervous energy. "You’re leaning too far into your right shell. If a Shredder-sized baddie swings high, you’re gonna tip like a turtle-shaped bowling pin. Shift the weight. Be like liquid, big guy!"

​I shifted my weight, mostly because he was right, but I narrowed my eyes on him. "Since when did you become Sensei Blue? And why are you yawning every five seconds? You’ve been going to bed at 9:00 PM for a week!"

​"Beauty sleep, Raph!​Leo POV

​"They're just better, Raph," I said, keeping my voice steady. "We'll get 'em next time.” Being the 'Face of the Group' is a full-time job," he said, giving me a wink that felt 100% fake.

​I looked over at the others. Donnie and April were in the corner, "training" which mostly involved Donnie showing April a new laser-welder while she laughed at his jokes. Mikey was upside down, doing those crazy handstand drills Leo gave him.

​"Don't you think it's weird?" I whispered to Donnie as Leo wandered over to "critique" Mikey’s artistic form.

​"Statistically? Yes," Donnie said, not looking up from his tablet. "Leo’s tactical IQ has jumped by 40% in three months. He’s using terminology he usually falls asleep during. Either he’s been replaced by a highly sophisticated, slightly more annoying robot, or he’s actually… shudder… practicing."

​"But he’s tired!" I hissed, gesturing to Leo, who was currently leaning against a pillar, nearly nodding off while Mikey talked about pizza toppings. "He goes to bed early, but he looks like he’s been run over by a S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. prototype. Something is up. My 'Big Brother Senses' are tingling, Dee. They’re vibrating! They’re doing the Macarena!"

​"Maybe he has a secret hobby," Mikey piped up, popping into a crouch. "Like a book club! Or secret underground knitting!"

​"Leo doesn't knit, Mikey. He barely has the patience to wait for a microwave," I grumbled.

​Training had been a slog, but finally, we were back in the hero game. It felt good! We were doing our usual thing—smashing basic mutants, stopping the Foot from doing... whatever weird, mystical stuff they do. I was finally feeling like my old self again. The Big Dog was back!

​But then, Big Mama’s new lackeys started showing up.

​It wasn't even a real fight; it was like they were playing a game. A "humiliate the turtles" kind of game. It felt like they were just here to take our lunch money and leave us in the dust. Donnie and Mikey usually ended up tangling with that LD guy. But the weird thing? He wouldn't even touch Mikey. Mikey would just be flipping and swinging around, chatting the guy's ear off like they were at a juice bar.

​I asked Mikey about it later, and he just shrugged. "I was fighting, Raph! He just... never lands a hit? He just pushes me away."

​Then there’s Leo and that "V" girl. Leo’s usually good at holding his own, but I kept catching him smiling. I called him out on it, and he gave me that classic Leo smirk. "Relax, Raph. She’s playing mind games, so I’m just playing 'em back."

​Yeah, right. To me, it looked like they were playing tag.

​My "Big Brother Senses" were tingling like crazy. I checked his room a few times at night—gone. I checked his location on the tracker I forced Donnie to make—signal jammed. Dead air. So, tonight? I was following him.

Day one 

​I peeked through his window just in time to see a blue spark. A portal. I didn't know where it led, but I wasn't letting him off that easy. I scrambled out into the night, frustrated.

​"Dang it, Leo!" I yelled into the empty air. "Why are you always sneaking around? I thought we were past the 'secret rebel' phase!"

​I was stomping around the rooftops when I heard a giggle. I spun around. Great. It was the Tiger Girl. Probably here to kick me around and take my lunch money again.

​"Look," I grumbled, "I'm looking for my brother so I can give him a piece of my mind. Can you use me as a punching bag some other day?"

​"Funny," she said, leaning against a chimney. "I was looking for my sister. She’s been sneaking out, and I’m in desperate need of some blackmail material."

​I paused. "Oh, really? Wait, are you the oldest?"

​See, the thing about her is... yeah, she fights me. But lately, she’s been dropping these weird tips mid-brawl. 'You’re getting better,' or 'If you listened to your anger instead of fighting it, you’d be much stronger.' And then she’d say something like, 'You’re cute when you’re mad,' and I’d just... freeze up. I'd turn bright red and lose my footing. When I told my brothers, they teased me for three hours straight. Leo says she’s just messing with my head.

​But Raph doesn’t know anything about "mind games." Raph just knows how to punch things!

​"Yeah, I'm the oldest," she said.

​"Wait, how old are you anyway?" I asked. It’s hard to tell with the mask and that Russian accent. Plus, she’s strong. Like, really strong. When the jacket comes off, she’s got more muscle than Donnie and Leo combined.

​"Guess," she smirked.

​"Nope. Not falling for that. Older ladies always get mad if you guess wrong, and I don't have time to be your punching bag today."

​"Seventeen," she offered.

​Okay, so my age. I thought she’d be way older. "So you’re the oldest? I thought the LD guy was like... twenty-two."

​She just nodded. I wanted to ask more, but I shook my head. "Listen, good talk, but I gotta find my brother."

​I headed off, and for once, she didn't follow. I didn't find Leo that night. Or the next night. Or the five days after that. Every time I brought it up, he’d just deny it or pivot to a joke. But I knew he was up to something. And every night I went looking for him, I’d run into her. She wouldn't even fight me anymore—she’d just stay there, watching me like I was the best free entertainment in New York.

Day two

​I was stomping across the rooftops, steam practically coming out of my shells. "Leo! If you’re in a portal, you better come out and face the Big Dog!"

​Nothing. Just the sound of a distant siren and a soft, rhythmic thump-thump-thump.

​I turned around. Tigerclaw was sitting on a water tower, tossing a small throwing knife into the air and catching it. She had that look—the one where she didn't even have to say she was better than you; her posture did it for her.

​"You yell a lot, Red," she said, her Russian accent cutting through the humid air. "Does the air-headed brother actually listen, or do you just like hearing your own roar?"

​"Hey! I'm the oldest! They listen to me... eventually!" I huffed, crossing my arms. "Look, I’m looking for my brother so I can give him a piece of my mind. You here to fight? Because I don't have time to be your punching bag today."

​She hopped down, landing silently. She didn't reach for a weapon. She just walked up to me, way into my personal bubble. "Funny. I was looking for my sister. She has been sneaking out, and I am in need of... how do you say? Blackmail material."

​"Oh, really? So you’re the oldest?" I asked, trying to sound tough, but she was doing that thing again. That look.

​The thing about Tigerclaw is, she’s a powerhouse. When she takes that jacket off, she’s got muscles that make my training routine look like a joke. But lately, she hasn't been trying to scrap. She’s been... giving me advice?

​'You are getting better,' she’d mumble mid-fight. Or, the one that really messed me up: 'You are so cute when you are angry.'

​I felt my face heating up just thinking about it. Raph doesn't do "cute." Raph is a wall of muscle and justice! But when she says it, I just... forget how to punch. Leo says she’s playing mind games. Donnie says she’s "psychologically dismantling my defensive capabilities."

​I just think she’s trying to make me look like an idiot.

​"I am the oldest," she confirmed, circling me like a predator. "Which is why I know you are failing. You are too tense. If you learned to listen to your anger instead of fighting it, you would be much better."

​"I don't need tips from a cat!" I snapped, though my voice cracked a little.

​"Is that so?" She stepped even closer, looking up at me through her mask. "Guess my age, Red."

​"I'm not playing this game! If I guess too high, you'll kick me off this roof. If I guess too low, you'll think I'm making fun of you. I'm not a 'mind games' guy!"

​"Seventeen," she said simply.

​I blinked. "Wait. Really? I thought you were... I mean, the LD guy looks like he's twenty-two."

​" He's 16. He is a child in a man's suit," she shrugged, dismissively. "I am the one who keeps the group from falling apart. Much like you. Only... I am better at it."

​She patted my shoulder—a heavy, lingering pat—and started walking away. "Good luck finding the blue one. He is much faster than you. You should work on your cardio."

​I stood there, red-faced and sputtering. "My cardio is fine! Get back here! I’m the Big Dog!"

​She didn't even look back. She just waved a hand as she disappeared into the shadows. She didn't fight me, she didn't steal my gear... she just left me standing there feeling like a confused toddler.

​Five days later, Leo was still sneaking out, and I was still running into her. She didn't even bring her weapons anymore. She just watched me wander around, looking like I was her favorite comedy show.

Dat three 

Leo was gone. Again. I had checked every rooftop from the Bronx to the Bowery, and all I found was empty air. And then, like clockwork, there she was.

​Tigerclaw was just... sitting there. Watching me. I finally snapped.

​"Okay, look! I thought you were supposed to be looking for your sister, but you’re just here messing with me! What gives?"

​"I can do both," she said calmly. She didn't even look up from her claws.

​I paced back and forth, my tail twitching. "Aren't you even worried about her? I’m out here losing my mind because my brother is missing, and you’re just chilling?"

​"No. She can take care of herself," Tigerclaw shrugged. "I am only here because I need her to do something for me later—something she won't like. So, I need blackmail to... encourage her."

​Typical villain stuff. I sighed and slumped against a brick chimney, my shoulders feeling like they were made of lead. "I just don't get it. Leo was finally being the leader we needed, and then... this. Missing training, ignoring the team, sneaking out like it’s all a big joke. He’s not taking the role seriously!"

​I sat down on the ledge, defeated. I expected her to laugh. I expected her to kick me while I was down.

​"Let me ask you this, Big Red," she said, her voice dropping the teasing tone. "What is it you actually want from him?"

​I blinked, shocked. "To be there! To take it seriously! To not be so... so Leo!"

​She looked at me then, really looked at me. "Do you also want him to have your anxiety? Your self-doubt? Your self-deprecation? Do you want him to carry the same traumas that make you stay up all night pacing these roofs?"

​I froze. "No! Of course not! But... he’s better at this than I am. Dad wouldn't have picked him if he wasn't! But he’s just—he's—"

​"He is not you?" she cut me off.

​It felt like a Shell-Smasher hit me right in the chest. My whole world felt like it was cracking. Was I really trying to turn Leo into a second Raph?

​"He is Leo, as you said," she continued. "Does he do what the team needs him to do?"

​I thought about it. "I mean... he has been more responsible lately. Mostly."

​"Does he pull through when it counts?"

​"I guess... yeah. He always comes through when the chips are down."

​Tigerclaw gave me a satisfied, almost scary smile. "Then here is a thought: Let him."

​"But what if—"

​"Up-pa-pa-pa," she held up a finger, cutting me off. "Let. Him."

​"But you don't understand—"

​"Raphael." She didn't yell, but her voice was so firm it made my beak shut instantly. "So what if he falls? Let him fall. He can't learn how to get back up if you’re always the one catching him before he hits the ground. How is he supposed to grow if you don't let him make his own mistakes?"

​I sat there, stunned. I thought I was being a good big brother by protecting them. But I was just... stifling him. I sat back down, my head spinning. To my surprise, she hopped down and sat right next to me.

​"You know anger is not real, right?" she asked.

​"Oh, I'm sorry, but Raph-Smash feels very real!" I countered.

​She smiled, and for the first time, I didn't see a villain. I saw someone who had been through the wringer. "I used to be angry. All the time. I hated everything. But then I learned that anger is just a mask for a bigger emotion. I wasn't angry, Raph. I just hated feeling powerless."

​I looked at her, and my heart sank. Was she being forced into this life by Big Mama? Was she feeling powerless too?

​"So, Big Red," she stood up, dusting off her gear. "What is your anger hiding?"

​She didn't wait for an answer. She vanished into the shadows, leaving me alone on the roof. I stayed there for a long time, the city lights twinkling below, wondering when I’d stopped being a brother and started being a cage.

Day four 

​I was still looking for Leo, because "letting him fall" is one thing, but Raph still needs to know where he’s falling! Tigerclaw was still trailing me, looking like she was waiting for a bus.

​"Okay, be real with me," I said, stopping mid-jump. "Do you actually look for your sister after I give up, or are you just using me as a tour guide for the city's worst rooftops?"

​"Well, here is the thing," she said, sounding bored even through the mask. "I think I know exactly where she is and what she is doing."

​"Oh, really? Then why are you still here?"

​"To watch you," she said, like I was the one asking the stupid question.

​"No, but... why? Also!" I pointed a finger at her. "I noticed you only kick my butt when your team is around. When we’re alone, you just... talk. Why?"

​She stood up and walked into my personal bubble. "I can hit you when we are alone, too, if you like," she purred in that calm Russian accent.

​Suddenly, she swung! My reflexes kicked in. I dodged, but it wasn't her usual "punching bag" routine—she was testing me. I remembered the speed training Leo had forced us through. I moved fast—really fast. I swung back, and—CRACK.

​My fist hit her right in the face. Her mask flew off and clattered across the concrete.

​I froze. My heart stopped. "Oh no! I am so sorry! I didn't mean to—I—Raph doesn't hit girls! I mean, I do, but not like—I’m so sorry!"

​I started rambling apologies at 100 miles per hour, but she just... laughed. She turned around, and for the first time, I saw her face.

​Oh. My. Gosh.

​I think my brain actually short-circuited. She was beautiful. Like, "runway supermodel" beautiful. Snow-white skin and Siberian blue eyes shaped like a tiger’s stare. Her face just screamed danger, but I couldn't look away.

​I turned redder than my own mask. I blushed so hard I thought my shell might melt.

​"I knew you were holding back on me," she said, smirking.

​I couldn't say anything. I tried to hide my face in my hands, but she just leaned in. I had no idea how to talk to girls! I’ve only ever talked to April, and she doesn't count because she’s just April! The more I looked at Tigerclaw, the more I forgot how to breathe.

​"Oh, no. Do not get shy on me now," she teased, trying to pry my hands away. I kept hiding. If I didn't see her, she wasn't there! If I didn't see her, I wasn't a bumbling mess!

​Finally, she managed to pull my hands away from my face. She looked me right in the eyes, and my brain just leaked out of my ears. I panicked and blurted out the first thing that came to mind:

​"I'm sorry! You're just so beautiful and I have no idea how to talk to girls! I only know April and she’s a tomboy and she’d probably hit me for saying that, and the more I look at you the more I think I'm gonna pass out!"

​I said it all in one breath. My face was probably glowing in the dark at this point.

​She looked shocked for a second, then she laughed—a real, genuine laugh. She calmed down, reached up, and cupped my face in her hands.

​"You are so cute," she whispered.

​And then... she leaned in and kissed me.

​It was quick. It was soft. And it felt like a lightning bolt hit my shell. She pulled away, a satisfied smirk on her face.

​I didn't know what to do. I’m the Big Dog! I’m the Leader! Was the Leader But at that moment, I was just a confused turtle. So, I did the only logical thing.

​I turned around and ran. I ran as fast as my legs would carry me, my face feeling like a literal tomato, leaving her standing on the roof alone.

Chapter Text

​After a massive training block, we were finally back to our usual hero routine. Smashing mutants, stopping the Foot... you know, the "saving the city" basics. The Big Dog was finally back to his butt-kicking self!

We would get out every time we go an alarm on the Tigerclaw and her team 

My brain was a glitchy computer. Error 404: Raph.exe has stopped working. Did she actually kiss me? No. No way. Maybe her mask just bumped my face? Yeah! A tactical face-bump! There was no way a cool, Russian tiger-ninja would actually—ugh! I couldn't even think of the word without my shell heating up like a microwave.

​"Okay, team!" I barked, trying to sound like a leader and not a turtle who was currently vibrating with nerves. "We’re being extra cautious tonight. No running into Big Mama’s crew, okay? Avoidance is the name of the game!"

​I was doing my best "stealth" moves—which, let’s be honest, is just me trying to do ninja flips while being the size of a monster truck. I was mid-roll, tucked into a giant red ball, when a voice drifted down from right next to my ear.

​"What exactly are you doing, Red?"

​"AH!" I yelped, bouncing back. Tigerclaw was just... standing there.

​Suddenly, the whole crew appeared. V stepped out of the shadows next to Leo. She had this dark, feminine aura that made the air feel heavy, like she already knew exactly how the next ten minutes were going to play out. LD—the gator in the hoodie with the "unbothered" swag—loomed over Mikey. Mikey jumped so hard he almost fell off the roof, but LD caught him by the scruff of his neck, effortlessly dangling him back onto his feet.

​"Okay, let him go, you big luggage-bag!" Donnie yelled, pointing his tech-staff at LD.

​"Relax, goggles. We’re not here to scrap," V said, her voice smooth and mysterious.

​"You’re not?" Leo asked. He leaned back, crossing his arms and giving V a long, steady look—the kind of look that said I see you, but you’re not getting past me. Tigerclaw stepped toward me and handed me a shiny, high-end card. V gave one to Leo, and LD handed one to Donnie (who looked like he wanted to sanitize it immediately).

​The invite read:

​YOU ARE INVITED: PRIVATE EVENT

Location: Big Mama’s Grand Hotel (Penthouse Suite)

Hosts: The Wild Cards

Note: Strictly Confidential.

​"Pff, The Wild Cards?" Leo laughed, glancing at the card.

​"That’s what the streets call us," LD shrugged, adjusting his hoodie. "We just roll with it."

​"This is a trap," Donnie said, his voice rising into that high-pitched 'I’m-surrounded-by-idiots' tone. "This is so obviously a trap that the word 'TRAP' should be written on it in neon lights!"

​"Look," V said, her dark gaze fixed on Leo. "Big Mama is out of town for a few days. Whenever she leaves, we throw a party in the hotel she doesn't use. We’re inviting you. Take it or leave it—the outcome is already set."

​"See you at the party, little orange," LD said to Mikey with a smirk.

​"See you soon... that is, if you aren't gonna run away again," Tigerclaw whispered to me, her eyes locking onto mine. She knew. She totally knew I was thinking about the kiss.

​Before I could stutter out a response, they were gone. Just poof. Vanished.

​Back at the Lair

​"It’s a trap! A TRAP, I SAY!" Donnie was pacing so hard he was practically drilling a hole in the floor. "Have you all shared one single brain cell today?! THEY HAVE BEATEN US UP! THEY KIDNAPPED APRIL! YOU DUM-DUMS ARE WALKING INTO THE JAWS OF DEATH!"

​"Bebe, calm down," April said, patting Donnie’s shell while he continued to vibrate with rage.

​"But what if it's not?" Mikey piped up. "Have you seen LD? That guy definitely knows how to party. Besides, if they wanted us gone, we’d be gone! They’re way stronger than us."

​"Mikey’s right," Leo added, looking at the invitation like it was a challenge. "They’re just messing with us. And if Big Mama is out of town, maybe they’re only doing the villain thing because she makes them. Maybe they just want a night off."

​I thought about Tigerclaw’s face when her mask fell off. She didn't look like a mindless soldier. "Guys, Leo has a point. Maybe they're being forced into this. I say we go. If it’s a trap, we fight our way out. If it’s not... maybe they need our help."

​"Excuse me?!" Donnie shrieked. "I knew you guys had no real brain, but I'm the only one who remembers the kidnapping?!"

​Casey Junior was there too, sitting next to Leo. He’d been busy watching Lou Jitsu movies with Mikey, trying to understand how people "chilled" in the 21st century.

​"Casey, you know anything about 'The Wild Cards' from the future?" I asked.

​"The names sound familiar," Casey said, looking thoughtful. "But the future was mostly... you know, fire and screaming. Not a lot of secret hotel parties. Though, if they are the ones I’m thinking of... they weren't always the bad guys."

​"Settled!" Leo clapped his hands, a spark of excitement in his eyes. "We put on our best party outfits and head out. Casey comes too. If it’s a trap, we get answers. If it’s a party... we get cake!"

Chapter Text

​We didn't just get ready; we had a full-blown, old-school fashion montage.

​Donnie went for a "K-Pop meets Tech-Wear" look—layered shirts, baggy tactical pants, and enough straps to confuse a paratrooper. Mikey was rocking a hip-hop fit that was 100% "Midtown Cool." Raph went with a red button-up vest, top buttons undone, looking like he was ready to either dance or bench-press the DJ booth.

​As for yours truly? I went with the "Blue Leader" special: white button-down, sleek black overshirt, and my favorite gear bag slung across my shoulder. April looked incredible in a dress that actually made Donnie’s brain short-circuit for a second—he complimented her so fast he almost tripped over his own bo-staff.

​Even Casey got in on the action. He was rocking some serious baggy pants and an oversized shirt. He looked like he’d stepped straight out of a 90s music video, which, honestly, for a guy from a post-apocalyptic future, is a massive fashion upgrade.

​I slashed a portal open, and we arrived at the address. The street was dead silent. Empty.

​"Okay, red flag," I muttered. "Big, glowing, neon red flag."

​We knocked on the massive front door. A small slot slid open, revealing a pair of suspicious eyes. "What do you want?"

​"We're here for the Wild Cards party," I said, flashing my invite. "Personal guests of V. Ever heard of her?"

​The slot snapped shut. We waited. Then, it opened again. "There are only four invites here. You brought six. Only four get in."

​"What?! Hey, no! Come on, we're the guests of honor!" I argued, but the slot slammed shut.

​We stood there awkwardly for a minute until the heavy door finally creaked open. Standing there was LD—but without the mask. My jaw almost hit the pavement. Without the mask, the guy was... actually handsome? He didn't have the long gator snout; it was more like a strong, human-ish jaw with a small muzzle and a row of terrifyingly sharp, white teeth. He smelled like expensive cologne and looked like he’d stepped off a rebel fashion magazine in a fishnet shirt, baggy pants, and a sleeveless leather jacket.

​"See? I knew you guys would come," he said, leaning against the frame with effortless swag. "Come on in. The party’s this way."

​"Thanks for the invite, LD!" Mikey said, running up to walk right by his side.

​"Please. 'LD' is my work name," the gator said, his tone shifting into something way more relaxed as he looked at Mikey. "My real name is Leatherhead. But you? You can call me whatever you want."

​I narrowed my eyes. Was he flirting with my brother? I couldn't tell if that was just his "party host" personality or if Mikey had actually made a friend in high places.

​"Whoa! Your name just got ten times cooler!" Mikey chirped.

​Leatherhead led us down a long, dimly lit hallway until we reached a set of massive double doors. He stopped and turned to face us, his expression getting serious.

​"Okay, ground rules," he said. "No breaking stuff. You break it, we’re on your tail. Also..." he looked us over, "have you guys ever drank before?."

​April looked at him, her eyes wide. "By brink,you mean... what do I think you mean?"

​"like Alcohol, or smoked" Leatherhead clarified. We all shook our heads 'no' pretty fast.

​"Okay, then people are gonna be drinking and smoking. There will be vaps, cigarettes and joints . We have security everywhere, so no touching anyone without their consent. No fighting over girls, no drama—leave all that at the door. No spiking drinks. The only drug aloud in is marryjan. And absolutely no taking intoxicated people into private rooms. Got it?”

​I blinked. Okay, this definitely wasn't a trap. No villain gives you a safety briefing before they try to kill you. We all nodded.

​"Good," Leatherhead smiled, showing off those sharp teeth. "Now, have fun."

​He shoved the doors open.

​A wall of bass hit us like a physical wave. The music was so loud I could feel it in my marrow. Neon lights of every color imaginable swirled through the room, cutting through the fog. The place was packed with mutants holding red cups just like Leatherhead’s. It was a full-blown underground club.

There was smoke everywhere with many different smells. The strongest one was the earthy smell of weed, people were dancing with red cups, there was a lot of dancing with a lot of booty shaking.

There was a bar in the corner where there were three bartenders, with people crowding it. I DJ in the middle of a stage. 

​"Come on!" Leatherhead yelled over the roar of the beat. "I’ll take you to see the others!"

​He led us toward a staircase, and as I looked down at the swirling crowd below, I realized one thing: The Wild Cards really are the kings of this city.

​Leatherhead led us to the second floor, where the air was a little cooler but the tension was way higher. V was there, swaying to the beat with a red cup in her hand. Next to her were two girls I didn’t recognize—one was definitely Tigerclaw, looking sharp even while relaxing, and the other... wait.

​A turtle girl? I thought we were the only turtle Yokai in the city, but there she was, looking at us like we were a stain on the carpet.

​"Hey! You actually made it!" V said, her dark aura brightening into a genuine smile.

​"I still can't believe you invited them," the turtle girl muttered. Okay, total buzzkill.

​V ignored her and looked at April, who was currently holding Donnie’s hand. Donnie looked like he was vibrating with social anxiety. "April! You look good. Though, considering you went on a date with me while you had a boyfriend... I feel a little betrayed," V teased with a fake pout.

​"You catfished me and then kidnapped me!" April snapped back, though she didn't look truly angry.

​V just giggled like it was a cute memory. "Fun times. Anyway, let me introduce myself. V stands for Veronica, but call me Vero. Everyone does."

​"I'm Mona Lisa, but call me Lisa," Tigerclaw added, her blue eyes tracking Raph.

​"And I’m Jennika. Call me Jen," the turtle girl said. I still had a million questions, but the vibe shifted instantly.

​Jen tapped Vero on the shoulder. "Oh, Veroooo," she sang. "Look. Antonio is here. And he is looking straight at you."

​We all looked. I felt a sudden, hot surge of jealousy. Who was this Antonio guy? Vero had been training me, we had our thing going on... why was some guy in a suit staring at her?

​"Well, he's all yours," Vero said coolly, finishing her drink. I felt a wave of relief—she didn't want him.

​"He doesn't want me, he wants you," Jen said, her voice dropping into that serious 'mafia heir' tone. "He wants my money, my title, and to get in my pants."

​The air got heavy. This wasn't just teen drama; this was business.

​"Want me to take care of him?" Leatherhead asked, leaning his elbows on the railing. He looked ready to toss someone off the balcony.

​"Antonio is part of the Veraces family," Lisa reminded him calmly. "His parents handle the Claw, the ravens, Volkovs, Tallinels and the Trading Markets. If we kick him out, he’ll throw a tantrum that ruins the trade routes."

​"I can scare him," Leatherhead shrugged.

​"He’ll just run to Big Mama," Vero countered. "And we can't have that. Not yet."

​It was wild listening to them. They talked like they were playing a game of chess with the whole city. But then, Vero’s "boss" smile came back.

​"Anyway! Let's get you boys your first drink for the night." She pointed a warning finger at Leatherhead. "And you? Behave yourself."

​"I don't know what you're talking about. I'm an angel," Leatherhead said, leaning back with a grin.

​"Oh yeah? What about last time?" Jen asked, raising an eyebrow. "There were twenty-four naked people coming out of your room."

​"Like I said... I don't remember," Leatherhead laughed, tapping Mikey on the shoulder. "Come on, Little Orange. Let's go get a drink."

​Mikey started to follow him, looking hyped, but Raph’s massive hand came down on his shell like a vice.

​"Nope! No way, Mikey. You’re staying within three feet of me the entire night!" Raph barked.

​"What?! Raph, we're at a Big Dog party! Don't babysit me, you're ruining my vibe!"

​"I am not letting you hang out with this twenty-two-year-old man!" Raph pointed at Leatherhead.

​Vero, Lisa, and Jen burst out laughing.

​"I'm sixteen," Leatherhead said calmly.

​"WHAT?!" the guys yelled in unison. “Oh right Lisa mentioned that” he said in a much quicker voice.

​"I know, I know, he looks like he’s lived through a war," Vero laughed, grabbing my arm and pulling me toward the stairs. "Come on, Leo. Let's move before Raph’s head actually explodes."

With April 

​This place was crazy cool. It was the kind of party I always dreamed of being invited to—but honestly, I bet even the coolest human parties were boring compared to this. Still, as much as I wanted to hit the dance floor, I could tell Donnie was hitting a wall.

​His shoulders were hiked up to his ears, and he kept squinting at the neon strobes.

​"Hey, Dee? You doing okay?" I asked softly, leaning into him. Raph, Lisa, Mikey, and Leatherhead had already headed back down to the main floor, following Leo and Vero.

​"Sorry, April," he muttered, his hands fidgeting with the hem of his tech-jacket. "There is just... a lot. Too many lights, too many frequencies, and the bass is vibrating at a hertz level that is making my brain feel like it's being whisked like an egg."

​I knew Donnie could get overwhelmed, especially in a place this high-energy. Luckily, I know my best friend. I reached into my bag and pulled out a small case. "Here, Dee. Tactical reinforcements."

​I handed him his high-fidelity earplugs and the custom sunglasses he’d built for himself—the ones that use a heads-up display to provide subtitles when he’s blocking out external noise.

​He slid them on and let out a long, shaky breath as his posture finally relaxed. "Thank you, April. My hero." He leaned down and gave me a quick, sweet kiss. I’d do anything for him, so it wasn't a big deal—just me taking care of him the way he always takes care of me.

​We headed down to join the others. Up close, the crowd was even more intense. There were Yokai of every shape—some looking almost human, others looking like something straight out of a sci-fi movie. I noticed a weird detail: almost everyone was wearing a specific pin on their lapels or jackets. Mafia insignias.

​We found the rest of the group at one of the massive bars. Vero, Lisa, and Leatherhead were already ordering a round, handing out red cups like they owned the place. When Leatherhead tried to hand one to Mikey, Raph snatched it out of the air before Mikey’s fingers could even touch the plastic.

​"HEY!" Mikey pouted, crossing his arms.

​Leatherhead didn't even fight it. He just leaned over to Lisa and whispered something. Lisa gave him a look that said, 'Are you serious? Ugh, fine, but you owe me big time.'

​Leatherhead handed me, Donnie, and Casey our drinks. Donnie took a sip, then leaned toward Casey, his eyes glinting behind his dark lenses.

​"So," Donnie whispered, "do you recognize them from the future? I need data, Casey. Are we looking at allies or the architects of our doom?"

​Casey looked hesitant, his eyes darting between Vero and the others. "I do recognize them," he said, his voice dropping low. "But I can't tell you the details. Butterfly Effect, remember? If I change too much, the timeline might snap."

​"So they are big players in the future," Donnie noted, tapping his chin.

​Good or bad, we still didn't know. But one thing was for sure: the Wild Cards were more than just Big Mama’s assistants. They were the future.

Raph POV 

​I looked at the cup Lisa gave me, then looked back at her. Man, she looked... wow. Without the mask and the battle gear, she was a total knockout. She was rocking a sleek crop top that was tight on her skin and baggy tactical pants that looked both high-fashion and ready for a fight. Her hair was snow-white and straight, falling all the way down to her hips—I guess she always tucks it into her hoodie when we're fighting, because I never noticed it was that long.

​Between her sharp eyeliner and the blush that made her look literally breathtaking, I had to look away before my face turned into a literal flare.

​I needed to focus! I had to protect Mikey. This Leatherhead guy was trying to get him to drink? No way. He’s a terrible influence! I get that Mikey thinks he’s the coolest thing since sliced pizza—and honestly, I’d probably die to be his friend if we weren't enemies—but he is not good for my baby brother.

​Lisa and Leatherhead led us to a VIP booth on the second floor. The setup was a bit of a squeeze: Donnie and April sat together, with Casey tucked in next to them. I sat next to Casey, and then Lisa slid in right next to me. Like, right next to me.

​On the other side, Leatherhead sat down with Mikey beside him. I started to protest, but then I saw Leo slide in at the end next to Vero. Okay. Leo’s there. I trust Leo to keep an eye on our "baby" brother. Mostly.

​A server suddenly appeared and placed a tray of chocolate mousse in front of us. My stomach did a little flip. Food? Amazing. I was starving, but then reality hit me.

​"Uh, hey, Lisa?" I leaned in, trying to sound casual. "We, uh... we don't exactly have 'Grand Hotel' money on us. So we might have to skip the snacks."

​She let out a cute little giggle that made my heart do a backflip. "Relax, Red. It’s a party. Everything is free."

​Free food? Okay, this place was officially dangerous.

​"Aren't you going to drink that?" she asked, pointing at the cup she’d handed me earlier.

​I looked at the liquid. I didn't want to look weak in front of her. I didn't want her to think the "Big Dog" couldn't handle a little party refreshment. I took a big sip and—oh, shell.

​It was gross. Like, 'drinking battery acid mixed with old socks' gross. My eyes watered and my throat burned, but I forced myself to swallow. I gave her a strained, shaky smile.

​"Mmm. Refreshing," I wheezed, taking another small sip just to prove I could. I was going to finish this if it was the last thing I did.

Leo POV 

The night was starting to feel like a dream.

​Food started arriving in waves, and honestly, it was better than any pizza run we’d ever had. April was already on her third drink, and even Donnie—the guy who treats his body like a temple for high-tech machinery—was actually taking a few sips of whatever Lisa had ordered for the table. Raph was already acting... different. He looked totally distracted, his "Big Brother Senses" clearly short-circuiting as he tried to keep up with Lisa.

​As for me? I could feel the alcohol humming in my system. It made the room feel lighter, like the gravity had been turned down just a notch.

​I turned to Vero, and for the first time, it didn't feel like a hero-versus-villain standoff. It felt like a real conversation. She was telling me about the party, the history of the hotel, and her "Wild Card" life, but I found it hard to focus on the words. I was too busy staring.

​She looked breathtaking. Her eyeliner made her eyes look massive—when she was surprised, they looked like soft doe eyes, but the second she looked at someone else with that death stare, they turned into piercing, icy daggers. She wasn't even wearing that much makeup, but she didn't need to. Her hair was in this perfect "hush cut" that framed her face like it was designed specifically for her.

​And then there was the outfit. She was wearing a tiny top and low-rise jeans that showed her stomach and showed off her perfect curves.

​I realized I wasn't the only one looking. I saw the guys at the other tables, the elite heirs, the mafia kids—all of them were watching her. A hot, sharp surge of jealousy hit me. It wasn't just "annoyance" anymore; it was full-on possessiveness. I wanted to stand up and tell everyone to look literally anywhere else.

​Vero seemed to sense the tension in my shoulders. She didn't say anything, but she reached over and grabbed my hand. Her skin was warm, and she gave my fingers a firm squeeze.

​"Enough talking, Leo," she said, her voice barely a whisper over the thumping bass.

​She pulled me toward the bar, where we took a few shot that burned like liquid fire. Before I could even catch my breath, she was leading me out into the middle of the dance floor. The lights were swirling, the room was spinning, and suddenly, it was just me and her in the middle of the crowd.

​I forgot about the mission. I forgot about the Foot Clan. I just let the music take over.

Mickey POV

Once Leo vanished with Vero and Raph got completely lost in Lisa’s eyes, I knew it was go-time. Me and Leatherhead used our "ninja stealth"—which mostly involved me giggling while he shielded me from Raph’s line of sight—to sneak away.

​He led me to the bar, where he grabbed us two drinks and headed up to the third floor. This level was way quieter, draped in velvet and glowing with soft, golden light. I took a sip of my drink. It was bitter, but I actually liked it! It felt like a "Big Turtle" drink.

​We started talking, and oh my banana-onions, we have so much in common! He’s an artist, too! He does incredible spray-paint murals, he loves to cook, and—get this—he studied psychology! I’m not "Dr. Feelings" for nothing, you know? We were basically soulmates in hoodies.

​"So, tell me, Angie," he said, leaning back against a marble pillar, his hoodie pulled low but his sharp eyes locked on me. "Why are you holding back your real skills?"

​"What do you mean?" I asked, tilting my head.

​"You play around when we fight," he said, his voice dropping into that smooth, unbothered tone. "You never take it seriously. That means you’re hiding the real you."

​I’d never thought of it like that. "It’s not that I’m holding back... it’s just that I’m never really given room to fight. My brothers are always right there, so I don't have to worry. And when I get really scared, I just hide in my shell. I’m not exactly the 'brave' one."

​"You’re stronger than you think. I can feel it," he said.

​"Oh, you're just saying that to be nice," I chirped, feeling a blush start.

​"No. I mean I can literally feel it. I can feel your magic, Mikey." He reached out and took my hand.

​Suddenly, my orange-yellow glow flickered to life. "It calls out to me," he whispered. I looked down and gasped. A thin, glowing line of pale yellow magic drifted from his skin, dancing around my orange sparks like a double helix. It felt powerful, but not scary. It felt... safe. Like a warm blanket.

​He pulled his hand away, and the glow faded.

​"Can you teach me?" I asked, my eyes wide. "I’m a magic wizard, but I don't know how to control the spark! Will you show me?"

​"If it means I get to hang out with you more? Then yeah," he said, his voice dropping into that seductive that made my stomach do somersaults.

​"Awesome! Here, let me give you my number!" I pulled out my phone, and he punched his digits in. "I can’t wait! We’re gonna be such great friends!"

​Suddenly, I felt a hand on my cheek. He tucked a finger under my chin, tilting my face up to meet his. He got close—so close I could smell that expensive cologne and the seductive smile.

​"Oh, I don't want to be friends," he whispered.

​Then, he leaned in and kissed me. It was a quick, questioning kiss—soft and gentle.

​"If you don't like what I'm doing, push me away," he breathed against my skin.

​He kissed me again, and I didn't even think about pushing. I kissed him back. He deepened the kiss, his hand moving to the back of my neck as he gently pressed me against the velvet-covered wall, where we kissed for what felt like forever.

His tough exploring my mouth, I did know a kiss would feel this good, I pulled away I needed air and he chuckled. “ breath through your nose, okay baby?” I felt a hot heat rush over me ‘Bady’. I liked that, especially in his deep voice when he went back to kissing me. I did what he told me and breathed through my nose. 

He was such a good kisser. I just followed everything he did clumsy at first but we found our rhythm. I thought back to what V said about 24 people coming out of his room. I wished I wasn't jealous of that but honestly I get it. Leatherhead is hot, so hot. people are gonna want him and he had such game he knew how to lure you in so he can eat you alive, Leatherhead grab my hands to picked them up my head in one big hand I felt trapped, he caught me and has me right were he wants me and the worst part I don't wanna leave I wanna stay right here. 

He pulled back smirked at me yeah he knew exactly what he was doing, the effect he had on me “ am loving that look on your face baby” I look into his yellow eyes his pupils blow wide, his look at me like a predator about to devour his prey a shiver goes down my spine at that look, he leaned back in his kiss me then he went down to kiss my neck. 

Their Person POV 

Time began to stretch and warp under the pulsing neon lights of the penthouse. What started as a tense standoff had dissolved into a full-blown riot of color and music.

​On the third floor, Mikey and Leatherhead were tucked away in their own world. Kissing, touching, Mickey was enjoying himself for the first time in his life, no one was there to stop him, to interpret him, he felt amazing, he didn't want it to end he felt wanted. 

​Down on the main floor, the heat was rising. Leo and Vero were a blur of motion. After a few more shots at the bar, Leo had completely forgotten about his "Blue Leader" responsibilities. He was lost in the rhythm, his eyes locked onto Vero’s as she moved with a dangerous, effortless grace. Every time Leo thought he had the lead, she’d spin him around, leaving him breathless and wanting more.

​Even Donnie had reached his limit of "being reasonable." Seeing April swaying to the beat was all the motivation he needed. He plucked his earplugs out, letting the bass vibrate through his very plastron, and led her onto the floor. With April by his side, Donnie’s "robotic" movements melted into a surprisingly smooth street-style dance. They danced their hearts out, lost in a sea of flashing strobes and drunkenness.

​Meanwhile, Casey was having the time of his life in a completely different way. To him, this party was like a movie playing out in real-time. He spent the hour treating the menu like a scavenger hunt, eating his heart out and trying every exotic dish the servers brought by. He was so genuinely curious that the staff—charmed by this "future boy’s" amazement—actually led him into the kitchen to show him how the high-end Yokai delicacies were made. For once, Casey wasn't a soldier; he was just a kid with a full stomach.

​Back at the VIP booth, Raph was struggling. He looked at the empty seats where his brothers used to be and felt his "Big Brother Alarm" going off. He started to stand up, his eyes scanning the crowd for a flash of orange or blue.

​"Raphael," Lisa said, her voice sharp and cool. She leaned back, crossing her legs, her Siberian blue eyes narrowing. "If you leave me sitting here alone while I am in my finest attire, I will find better company. And trust me, I won't have to look far."

​Raph froze, looking between the dance floor and the beautiful girl sitting next to him. "But... my brothers! They’re drinking! They’re probably drunk!"

​"Raph," she said, her voice softening as she reached out to touch his arm. "Let them. For one night, let them just be."

​Raph let out a long breath, his shoulders finally dropping. "Yeah. Yeah, okay. You’re right. Let them... let them."

​He didn't need to be told twice. He took Lisa’s hand, and the "Big Dog" hit the dance floor. They were a sight to behold—Raph’s massive strength acting as the perfect anchor for Lisa’s lightning-fast moves.

​As the night reached its peak, everyone was swept up in the alcohol buzzing through their systems. Even Jen was seen across the room, dancing with a mysterious boy, completely unbothered by the fact that her teammates were currently "befriending" the enemy.

​The air was thick with the scent of alcohol and expensive perfume. Suddenly, in the middle of a song, Vero leaned into Leo’s ear, her breath warm against his skin. She didn't say a word—she just grabbed his hand and pulled him away from the crowd, leading him toward a private room at the end of the hall.

Leo pov 

Vero led me away from the thumping bass of the club and onto a private balcony. The cool night air hit us, smelling like rain and distant street food.

​"Are you having fun?" she asked, turning to face me. For the first time, the "Wild Card" mask was gone. No mind games, no villainous smirks—just Vero.

​"Yeah," I breathed, leaning against the railing. "I’ve never experienced anything like this."

​She slipped back inside for a second to hit a switch on a sleek Bluetooth speaker, and a new track started to flow through the balcony. "Then let’s keep it going," she said, grabbing my hands and pulling me into a slow, rhythmic sway.

​"Can I ask you something?" I said, the alcohol in my system giving me a boost of "Truth-Sayer" courage. "Why do you follow Big Mama?"

​Her smile faltered. The light in her black eyes dimmed. "Don’t ruin the moment, Leo."

​"Sorry," I muttered.

​"Why do you save the city?" she asked, turning the question back on me. I grabbed her arm, pulling her close as the music shifted into something soulful. We moved together like we were in a ballroom, perfectly in sync.

​"Because it needs us," I said, spinning her under my arm. "It’s our home. We have a duty to protect it."

​"But why you?" she pressed, her voice small. "Why does it have to be you who carries that weight?"

​"I guess... because we’re the only ones who can." I looked at her, seeing the shadows on her face. "Don't you have something you want to protect?"

​She froze. The rhythm snapped. She pulled away, her hands dropping to her sides. "Everything I had to protect is gone now,” she said, her voice sounding hollow. "I have my job. I have my duties. I know my place."

​It was the saddest thing I’d ever heard. It made me want to pull her back and never let go. "Well, then," I said, stepping toward her with my best 'Champion of New York' grin. "I guess I’ll just have to give you the city of New York to protect instead."

​She let out a dry laugh. "You can't 'give' me a city, Leo. First off, it’s not yours. Second, I'm pretty sure you need a key for that."

​"Oh, I’m the key," I said, leaning in. "And New York? It’s mine. I’ve saved it twice. It’s my home, and I’m giving it to you to keep safe for me. Will you?"

​She looked at me then—a look that made my heart feel like it was melting into a puddle. It was a look of hope, and maybe, just maybe, something that looked a lot like love.

​"Let me see your phone," I said.

​"Why?"

​"So I can change the song."

​She handed it over, and I quickly typed in my number and pulled up New York City by Anne.

​I’ve never told anyone this—not even my brothers—but I’m actually a really good singer. Like, 'The Weeknd' level of smooth. I just pretend I'm bad at it because, hey, gotta keep some secrets, right? But tonight, I let the real voice out.

​"This is just the start of your story / If you got guts you get glory / Anyone can make it even you / In New York City..."

​Vero’s jaw practically hit the balcony floor. "Wow... you can actually sing."

​I grabbed her waist and started dancing with her again, my voice growing stronger with every lyric. "So take it all / The city's yours / It's worth fighting for / It's all yours..."

​Then, the shock was on me. When the chorus hit, she joined in. Her voice was incredible—sweet but sharp, like Dove Cameron. We sang together, our voices blending over the NYC skyline:

​"So take it all (So take it all) / The city's yours (The city's mine) / It's worth fighting for (It's worth fighting for) / It's all mine (It's all mine)..."

​When the last note faded into the sounds of the city below, I saw a spark in her eyes that I’d never seen before. Those "dead" eyes were alive, shimmering with something that looked like tears.

​Without a word, she grabbed my collar and kissed me. I was shocked for a heartbeat—actually shocked—but then I melted into it, kissing her back like the world was ending tomorrow.

Warnings ⚠️ 🔞 sex sence 

We deepened to kiss, I use my tongue exploring her mouth, any where she could let me, she moaned into and heat rushed to my groaned, touching anywhere I wasn't gonna let this moment pass my hands moved from her waist to her ass and I squeaked she groaned.

I moved my hand under her jeans but then she pulled away for a moment. I thought I took it too far and was about to get hit with something but the most amazing thing happened. She took it off her low rise jeans, she just unzipped it and it fell right off, then in one quick moment took her top off before going back to kissing me, god she was gonna be the end of me. 

I picked her up and walk to the the bed inside the room, she was only in her underwear, so she was breathing taking “ your so beautiful” told her as she giggled into the kiss I stated kissing her face down there neck, all the way to her breasts they were a good hands size, round and plumped, Nice, I reached my right and cupped one in my hand and squeezed it was squishy.

 Then I unzipped her bra and laid her down then stared. They were nice, I never thought I would ever get the chance to see them up close and not in a porn video but this was so much better. 

I played with her boob bouncing it, squeezing it with one hand and the other one i brought my mouth to the nipple and sucked 

she moaned. She felt so good, she felt so warm, so soft, her heat in my hands, I could feel her heart beat though them, and the sounds she made were lovely to hear. 

I pull away “ if you want me to stop tell me know, otherwise I will not ganna stop until you begin for me from me to fuck you” I say I don't know were that came from but it felt right to say. 

I do not wanna stop I want her so bad right know I what to make her mine, I was to own ever part of her I want her own every part of me because she already does but it's important to make sure she wants this just as much as I do the last thing I would want is to do thing she doesn't like. 

“ Please don't stop” she whispered against me and is sound like music to my ears I have never done this before, but I knew enough I watched porn but then I got into book talk and read some book turned out women like to read their pron instead of watching it but only she can tell me what she likes. 

“ Tell me what you want” I growled in my ear as I went back to kissing her neck, “touch me” was all she said but I knew what she wanted. She was pushing her hip into me all her need was written all over her body. 

I pull her into my lap as one hand held her in place and the other goes down her body I started in neck, then her chest, I squeaked her breast played with it a little, then went down to her stomach until I cupped her core, she moaned bass on everything that I have learn about women pleasure they like a confident man, a man who knows what he is doing, I Do not but it feel like I do testing the waters seeing her reaction I got this.

I wanna take my time with her, there are a lot of things that I liked when it came to sex scenes. I'm gonna test it out. I got time. I wanna take the time with her, and she letting me take the lead. I grin. I wonder if she is a pillow princess. 

ingrained myself in her I rubbed her through her underwear, “you like that” I asked she didn't say anything just moaned, oh fuck no, I need her to tell me how will I know otherwise and am not ganna back a fool of himself not here somthing in me snapped.

so grabbed her by the back of her hair and forcing her to look at me she gasped “ I asked you a question” she looked at me her eyes were so back I couldn't even see if her pupils were blown wide, but I bet they wear “ When I ask you a question you answer, you got that” a rush of power fueled me, and boy did I like that I loved how she was looking at me she looked to submissive right know and I loved it.

“ Yes, I like it please don't stop” she said she looked so lost into already, I moved my handed underneath the fabric, shr was so wet i got some of her liquid in my finger before started rubbing her clit I didn't go slow but not super fast either she was wet “ Fuck baby I barely did a thing and your this wet already” I say I pulled her into a kiss then pushed her into the mattress she gasped, I took her last layer of clothes off leaving her perfectly exposed under me. 

I kissed her “ you good baby?” I asked “better then good” she said something clicked I barely did anything, looks like she told her what to do. 

 I knew she was more into the way I was handling her then what I was actually doing but I would take whatever I can get, but I wanna test that theory.

 I kissed down her neck into her chest playing with her breast a little before going down the future, kissing her stomach until I reached her code. I looked at it and it was the most aesthetically pleasing pussy I have seen, I haven't seen any up close but I saw many in pron and by far I love hers the best. She had no hair, I wouldn't care if she did but I guess she liked it like that. It was pink I guess that made sense she was light skinned. 

I kissed and she moaned “ do you want it?” I asked “ yes! Please” she begs god I love it even if she begs I want to hear more, “ Then say it tell exactly what you want” she looked at me “What!?” “ You heard me” I say in a serious tone, “Leo I-Ah” I cut her off with a quick hard spank to her right cheek “ say it or it's another one” she looked at me with both shock and arousal.

“ Leo can you eat me out please” she said I slapped her again she moaned “ try again, eat what? ” more arousal than embarrassment as a blush appeared in her cheeks.

 “ Leo can you eat my pussy out please” I smile not a kind smile the one she alway gives me the one that hides missive behind it the— I already know how this is gonna play out one — so I do I eat her out god she teases so good, I played with her cilt with my tongue taking my time before I push a finger in then another one exploring until she screamed, I found it, I grin. 

  I fuck her with my finger she is screaming into the air I hear that if she can't cantol her sounds and her Leggs starts shaking then there is no way she is faking it and her Legs are shaking, I keep going her voice can be heard around to room” 

Then she stopped and she started twitching. I pull away a see white liquid coming out of her and into my finger I still move them inside her, until she gasps for air I realize that she forgot to breathe.

I climbed back up to kiss her “ you okay baby” I asked “yes!” she said breathlessly I would stop her but I don't want to.

“ Can I fuck you bady?” I asked trying to make sure and I still want her begging “yes please fuck me leo”, I smile again same smile I felt her shiver, am loving this. 

“ am not human it's not gonna look normal think you’re up for it?” I asked 

“ I've been with other Yokai before Leo , many with no human dicks. I think I am up for it” something in me snapped at the word ‘I been with other people before’ she was mine no one else can have her I know I can't go back in time and stop her from being with other but I do not wanna her it I do not gonna even think about her with someone else.

 I flipped her so she was on all fours and spanked her three times hard “ Do not ever talk about other men when you're with me do you understand?” I say “Y-Yes!” she said I flipped her back to face me then undo my plat covering my cock and took it out signed in relief. 

Her eyes following my moments she gasped when she saw it was big. I know that 9 inches I measured it those turtle geniuses really worked out good here. I have bumps around the head and it pulses if I want it to. I would expand wider but and not gonna do that it can really hurt her seeing her stare at I felt kinda self conscious no one has ever seen it and she wasn't giving me much.

 “ you like what you see I hope” I didn't feel embarrassed about it. girls liked big no? I was just scared she wound change her mind after seeing it “ yes I can't wait to have you in me” she said pulling me into a kiss I pulled away then spend her legs wide then open her pussy up by spreading her folds revealing a pink glossy opening 

 I line myself up to her then I trust inside gently FUCK!! She feels so good already she is so hot inside, so wet, so so good, when fully in, I give her a minute because that's what you're supposed to do. 

“ Are you okay?” I asked “Yes, you can move know please” so stated moving slow at first then fast, god she felt so good my heart is raising my body feels good all over, I can feel her heart beat though the trusting, I wanted to give myself into her but it feels like she is owning every part of my my heart it's already hers, my soul,my air, My life I will never forget this moment it will live in me forever as a memory, I will make her mine forever because if this all I have his the memory of this night then, what a sad life agony will await me, 

But I was determined to make it so no one but me can satisfy her. I learned a tick a long time ago, I learned that I'd tense any part of my body and move it. It vibrates and with My dick if I tense it as I am trying to expand it and it ends up vibrating. 

So I began vibrating inside her, I know it will feel better for her but it still feels so good to do that. 

 “ y-you c-c-can vibr-ate ahh” she tried to speak but it was just cut off into a moan then she started shaking again she was close “ Do not cum yet hold it until I tell you to” her boobs are bouncing with each thrust, but I look at her neck her head rises high as her eyes are Rolling in to the back of her head her neck exposed to me I wanna grab it, hold it with my hand but I don't that will be going to fair so look up at her face “ look at me” I tell her she opened her eyes to look at me and I smirk all teeth I love this look in her face “ you can cum now” I say am cuming myself and that seemed to have done it for her because she screamed one last time her back arching off the bed I think we came together she fell collapsed onto the bed and tried catching her breath I pulled out cuming on her pussy I looked at it satisfied then I pulled her close as we cuddle, she was already asleep I held her just looking at her face so peaceful, I took one last look at every inch of her trying to memorize this moment, I wish morning never came I wish we would get stay like this forever but soon I got tried myself I pulled the covers over us, tucked myself back into my Plat and head her close to me as I drift to sleep.

Ended 🔞⚠️

​I woke up and immediately regretted having a head. The world was too bright, the silence was too loud, and my brain felt like it was being used as a trampoline. I felt a slight shift next to me, and when I turned my head, there she was.

​Vero. Sleeping like nothing was wrong.

​Suddenly, the memories of last night hit me like a runaway subway train. Did that really happen? Was that actually me? I felt a wave of embarrassment so hot I thought my shell would steam. I had completely snapped; it was like a different person took over. Does she hate me now? Should I say something cool? 'Hey Vero, you good?' No, that's terrible. 'So, had fun?' Worse! Leo, get it together!

​I looked at her again. She was breathtaking. The "dead" look in her eyes was gone in her sleep, replaced by a peace I didn't think she ever let herself feel.

​Then, she stirred. Her eyes opened, glossy with sleep, and she looked at me for a split second before her brain fully rebooted. She bolted upright so fast the bed shook, and my head gave a painful, throbbing protest. I grabbed my temples, trying to stop the room from spinning.

​"Oh God, no," she whispered, her voice trembling. "No, no, no. This cannot be happening."

​She scrambled out of bed, grabbing her clothes from the floor and throwing them on like her life depended on it. Ouch. Okay, so we were definitely not cool. My heart sank.

​"Hey, come on," I said, my voice raspy. "I'm not that bad of a wake-up call, am I?" I tried to joke—it’s how I cope, okay?—but she wasn't laughing.

​"Wait, no, you were... it was actually great," she admitted, her back to me, looking completely shaken.

​"Then why are you freaking out?" I asked. I’d never seen her like this. She wasn't the composed "I-know-the-outcome" leader anymore. She was human. And I loved it.

​"I never freak out!" she snapped, trying to pull her "Wild Card" mask back on. "This just... it can never happen again. Ever."

​Now I was the one feeling offended. "Why not?"

​"Because you're my enemy!" she cried, looking at me like I’d lost my mind.

​"I didn't seem to be your enemy last night," I said, my voice dropping into a calm, steady tone. She blushed furiously and looked away, struggling to find her poker face.

​"I have slept with many of my enemies on missions to defend them," she blurted out.

​That possessive, protective jealousy flared up again. I ignored my throbbing head and stood up to my full height, stepping directly into her space. She backed up until she hit the wall. I saw a flash of fear in her eyes, but underneath it? Arousal. Yeah, I could work with that.

​I used my "Senior Leader" voice—the one that usually gets my brothers to shut up and listen. "Didn't I tell you not to talk about other men when you're around me? What did I say would happen if you did?"

​I towered over her—she was even shorter than April. She looked up at me, and for a long moment, the power struggle ended. She gave me that same look from last night.

​"I’m just saying... this wasn't supposed to happen, Leo," she whispered, saying my name in Spanish. God, the way she said it made my knees weak.

​"I love the way you say my name, Vero," I smirked, repeating it back to her with the same accent. She turned red.

​"This is serious!" she insisted.

​"Oh, I'm very serious," I said, leaning closer. "Vero, I like you. I don't care that you're supposed to be 'the villain.' You aren't the first person in this city who's tried to kill me and you won't be the last. You say it can't happen, but you want me. You invited me to your party the first chance you got. You’ve been sneaking around to see me."

​"That was because Lisa found out and blackmailed me! And Leatherhead’s love for drama!" she argued, but she wouldn't look me in the eye.

​"Okay. Then what about meeting me in secret? Without them?"

​She didn't answer. I reached out, gently grabbing her chin and tilting her head up so she had to face me. "You want me. Just admit it. You’re drawn to me."

​She was quiet for a long, heavy moment. "Okay. Last night was... incredible. But I can’t just leave. I can’t run into the sunset with a Ninja Turtle, Leo."

​"I get that. But we can help you. My family—"

​"No, you can't!" she said, her voice sharp with a hidden pain. She pushed me away slowly, her eyes filled with a secret she couldn't share. "This can't happen again. For your sake. Okay?"

​Before I could grab her hand or say another word, her hand moved like lightning. She hit a pressure point in my neck. My world exploded into white-hot pain and my vision blurred. By the time I could breathe again, she was gone.