Chapter Text
Leo lies facedown on his bed, running through his recent interactions with the kid.
Obviously, he's already dissected it all with Donnie, but doesn't quite know how to confront Casey about it. Leo isn't mad, per se, he's just a little hurt.
don’t push the kid don’t push the kid don’t push the kid—
It doesn’t help a quick purple thought nudged his mind, yesterday evening, saying he came by and seemed troubled. Donnie didn’t say anything else, wanting to respect the kid’s privacy but it gnawed at Leo’s self-control. Just a bit.
Leo is going to go crazy.
It’s ten o’clock at night, and even though he spent the whole day training and patrolling and going over different maneuvers with Raph (and should be sore and exhausted), he’s wide awake. He keeps seeing Casey's nosebleed, his pale face, the pain he won't speak up about.
Rolling over, Leo dispels those images as he squints at the bright screen of his phone. Opening his favorites, he shoots a quick text, asking to crash.
is now good? April responds instantly, always ready and by his side. Like last week when Mikey started that water balloon fight right in the middle of a Jupiter Jim movie.
They were crouching side by side, behind an overturned chair, giggling as they filled a massive ballon through the portal Leo had cut to the garage.
“I am with you,” April tried to say seriously, the edges of her eyes crinkling. “Let’s do this.”
I am with you, she said.
I ammmmmm wiittthhhhh youuuuuuu.
(“i am here! leo—i am with you,” april screams, face streaked with ash.
she’s got both her arms locked around leo’s…
what?
he looks at his arm, at how it bulges and has spikes and it much, much larger than his own.
april has two shaking hands gripped on his not-arm and she’s pulling with all her might.
leo is dangling of a cliff, smoke and fires surrounding them.
where is he?
he should be afraid but he is not. his mind fills with a cool blankness.
“i’ve got you, leo, and you aren’t dying anytime soon.” she pants, beginning to tug him back up with a herculean strength.
in the seconds he was hit by…something? and thrown off a cliff.
april was there, april was ready to catch him, april is with him.
“thanks, apples,” leo breathes, locking on to her dark eyes.
she looks…older. tired. weary.
but he still knows she’s there, she’s always there.)
Leo freezes, paralysis winding through him. That was not the memory he was thinking of.
Also—did that belong to him? Is he haunted by a ghost?
Weird.
(If the Hidden City and Casey weren’t such glaring worries on the forefront of his mind, he’d pay more attention to the fact that that was not him and not April.)
He'd been thinking of April, and that vision showed her, so. It’s probably fine.
(is it?)
Sure. Yeah. Whatever.
ugh yes. b over in ten, he writes back, giving his head a firm shake.
can’t u portal over??
let me enjoy my youth apples.
omg.
Then, see u in a bit, drama queen.
Leo clambers out of bed, grabbing his katanas and skipping out of the train car, the thrill of leaping throughout the city spreading throughout him like a drug.
Reaching down and finding his ninpo looking back, Leo summons that sensation of free-falling through the sky. He can almost taste the freedom of the city on a lively weekend night, the wind and the moon and the stars at his back. How it tempers the jumpiness immediately.
Thankfully, it's dark (as this city can get), but it's not like people are that afraid of seeing Leo's strange-looking figure flipping above. The Krang have encouraged even blinder eyes.
He feels power race down his scales, goosebumps singing along with open skies. It'll never get old.
The dragon rumbles in anticipation, but that might just be him.
Unsheathing his swords in one gliding movement, Leo slices a portal, tearing a new rip in the family room. It bathes the lair in shifting, watery blue—he realizes as an painful afterthought how it reminds him of their old place, flickering water underground painting the walls.
“Going to April’s—if you guys eat all Mikey’s cookies, I can’t promise you’ll make it to tomorrow morning!”
“Do I hear a little mouse?” Donnie's mouth is obviously stuffed with chocolatey goodness.
His baby brother chucks a bag at Leo's face. "Take these!" It just misses his forehead as he swerves away, grabbing the weaponized cookies.
“K, thanks bye, losers!” Leo tips backward into the portal.
A chorus of byes and smell ya later’s and don’t die’s follow him, his brothers’ voices a familiar and calming presence.
He rockets through the swirling blue vortex, eyes watering, wondering where and how he wants to get to April’s place, if he feels like hopping rooftops or something a little more exciting. Raph hates when Leo surfs traffic, but if he had portalling ninpo, he’d probably hold his tongue.
At the beginning of their mystic journeys, before the Shredder and their ninpo, when it was just Leo and his ōdachi and his inability to ever make a reliable portal ever, he went through some severe self-doubt and embarrassment. (Especially when Raph and Mikey were such naturals.)
But day after day, mission after mission, trial and error, Leo clawed his way to an understanding with the sword. For so long, he’d just waved the thing around, his pride and arrogance stunting the powers. When he realized the blade was more than just that, Leo took the time to build a bond, respect the ōdachi for its strange abilities, and treat it like a friend, he found that the mystic weapon approved of him as well.
Then again, the thrill of the ōdachi was nothing like tapping into Hamato ninpo and forging two katanas out of gardening spades—the instant connection, extensions of himself that whispered and guided him, saying look, look what you can do—see how far and fast and free you can be.
Rocketing out of the portal onto a speeding eighteen-wheeler, Leo howls into the city—look how far and fast and free i can be.
He takes off at a sprint, leaping off the edge of the vehicle at the last second, katana a white blur. Leo materializes, swinging around a streetlight as graceful as a gymnast before disappearing back into traffic, the portal like cool water.
Again and again, he weaves light between cars and buses and trucks, laughing and racing through the night. His bones bark with the landings and there's definitely more than one close-call that leave his ears ringing, but the freedom like wings beneath his skin are something that no one can take away.
It's the best when Donnie can give him a speed boost, coupled with the near-fatal speeds Leo's already built up from his portals and he all but flies, weightless, before tumbling back into his pocket dimension, safely encased in his mystic powers. The only thing better is when Donnie tags along, their laughter the only sound in a world made of stars.
Leo will never, never take this life, his family for granted again. Acting like an idiot with one healed body, two swords, and three turtles is a gift every day—one he might not deserve (though he's been working on that language), but one he’ll cherish like precious gold.
Breathless and practically vibrating with energy, Leo lands on the roof of April’s apartment with a pair of jelly-legs. Traffic surfing the awesome but exhausting, and April's couch has never sounded better.
(he’s already forgotten about the not-memory.)
One final portal to her front door—he cartwheels through and narrowly avoids slamming into her neighbor’s wall.
April’s voice, though muffled inside her apartment, rises at his arrival. “Leo, you know how I feel about you almost destroying the building—”
He cuts her off as he enters, chunking the bag of cookies onto a table. “The p in portals doesn’t always stand for precision. Next time I’ll take the stairs.”
“Smart ass,” April mutters affectionately, tugging on his mask tails as she passes by. She gestures to the pillowy pajamas swaddling her. “What do you think?”
Leo’s currently on a quest to finding the all-around best pajamas sets with April, rated for softness, comfiness, Can I Still Take On The Foot Clan-iness…you know. The typical criterion.
“A strong contender.” The fluffy green fabric is a nice touch. “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t jealous.”
April winks at him, a sparkle in her eye. “Guess I’m in the lead then!”
“Oh, we’ll see about that,” Leo warns, sinking into a crouch before lunging and tossing April over his shoulder, spinning around in dizzying circles.
She shrieks with laughter, thumping a fist against his shell, and he twirls again, unable to keep from laughing himself. The soft, welcoming colors of her apartment blur around them, the moment warm and bubbly and worry-free.
He can almost forget about the Winged Terrors, about his doubts, about Casey’s pale face looking up at him, exhausted.
“Where’s all the big talk now?” He smirks, setting her down.
April wobbles for a bit but shoots him a glare, smacking the hand he reaches out to help stabilize. “Don’t you think this is over, little man.”
Leo gasps. “Little man?!" He stares down his beak at her for exaggerated effect, as if the nearly two feet between them isn't enough. “Now you’re gonna get it, Apples.”
Quite a bit of chasing and bragging ensues, as April insists on her pajama superiority and Leo complains about the injustice of it all, ducking into the kitchen to tuck the cookies into a slightly broken cabinet, hoping that she doesn't know he's the reason for that particular oopsie.
He looks out of the window above her sink, how Mikey's always wished for one of those, despite the fact that they live underground.
Their new place isn't so bad, now that they’ve finally had time to unpack and settle into the abandoned subway. Initially, it was a matter of learning the network for safety and maneuverability, but in the lulling months, Leo’s developed a closer familiarity with the lair, tracing the curving tiles with his mind. He knows where to step to avoid the uneven lips of the steps, where to find the best patches of sunlight in the late afternoon, where to make the loudest echoes and where to be as silent as a butterfly’s wings. If Donnie wasn't blessed with such wonderful eagle-eyes and the world's most sensitive hearing, Leo could probably sneak out.
They’ve made the subway their own, and though the memories of their original home are a painful walk down Wow We Really Got Spanked By Shredder That One Day lane, they know home is more than a tube underground.
April reappears, zipping up a large coat, tucking her curls into a beanie. “How about we go for a walk?” She fluffs her bangs. “I’m detecting some zoomies from you.”
Leo’s cheeks burn as he takes the jacket, left by either Donnie or Raph, from her outstretched hand.
“Zoomies? Haven’t heard that one in a while.” He turns away, face flaming. Leave it to April to really wind the clock back a few years.
Maybe he feels a little jumpy, and maybe he could run a couple of miles right now, but that’s beside the point.
Isn’t it?
—
April rolls her eyes, stuffing her feet into the nearest shoes.
She can practically see the jittery, spastic energy emanating from Leo a mile away, especially with all the wrestling.
He’s my brother but wow, that was a lot.
Not to mention the stress that blinks a pair of too-stressed eyes once in a while, pleading silently, whether Leo is aware of it. (And the fact that he completely did not check the weather before leaving, showing up with nothing but a bag of cookies.)
"Yes Lee. Zoomies. I don't exactly feel like Bob the Builder-ing my furniture back together tonight." She shoves him back out the door, grinning at how his blades peek through the altered coat, Donnie having previously made sure that Leo's swords wouldn't shred the poor thing, and how what should be ominous weapons are seriously sidetracked by the sparkly sewn-on patches.
The guys are always leaving crap at her apartment—clothes and weapons and snacks. Pick your battles.
"Fair point." Leo tips their heads together with a smile.
The small gesture squeezes her heart. It seems like just yesterday he was small enough to carry.
(april is ten.
leo is eight.
she’s had four little brothers for two years now, squirmy limbs and toothy grins and band-aids.
they pull on her hair and they try to scare her by hiding around the corner and they drag her into their brotherly fights.
donnie chipped her front tooth two weeks ago.
they’re getting bigger—raph’s the same size as her now, but the twins and mikey can still all fit in her lap. raph will sit by her, or worm his way under her arm.
she loves them, more than she thought she could.
they’re her little brothers and she’d do anything for them.
it’s summer, finally, and they have movie nights every friday night. they’re sticky-sweet with melting popsicles and buttery soft with the later sunsets.
april is curled in a beanbag with mikey and donnie, raph resting nearby.
leo, all of a sudden, has disappeared in a flash from where he’s been sitting at raph’s feet.
her brothers begin to giggle.
she thinks she hears someone whisper “zoomies”.
“what? what’s a zoomies?”
mikey’s smile unfurls, devilishly adorable. “lele, he gets crazy at bed and bath,” his young voice replies, not quite at full sentences.
it’s okay. april’s in language arts now, and she’s got a lot to teach these boys.
raph, nine and ready to grow up, heaves a long-suffering sigh.
“leo has this new thing where he runs like, so much, at night or after he gets out of the bath. i don’t know where he got this idea, but he goes so fast. and usually runs into something, so…watch out.”
april squints her eyes at the little smile she always imagines on leo’s face, endearing and shy.
where does all that come from? she wonders.
a blue-streaked blur passes by the television again. it zigzags around their beanbags, the coffee table, small feet pitter-pattering about the apartment.
april remembers the race cars she saw with her mother, that one time in a crowded, hot stadium, where the cars flew in a crazy, dangerous circle, stealing her breath.
this is similar.
every once in a while, she can see the white slash of a smile, brilliant gold eyes. and then he scurries away, a whisper of laughter curling around her.
“he’s just got a lot of energy, guys. don’t be jealous he can run faster than you,” april defends, ready to protect her red-striped boy.
raph puts a hand on her arm, green gaze gentle and grown. it says—we’re not making fun. we love it too. he’s our brother and we love him.
things are different, now that they are older and know her better, know one another better.
“well…alright then,” april gives her nod of permission, making sure to make strict eye contact with each of them.
they cringe back, always afraid of letting her down.
that’s the way it goes.
leo winds down eventually, shoving his brothers out of his way to curl up in april’s lap, hogging all the space to himself as he snuffles on, lost to the world.
april lays a hand on his shell, tracing the pointed pattern.
one day leo will be big enough to fight his own battles.
one day he’ll look into her eyes, sharp edges and clever smile, and insist on handling it himself, chest puffing with pride.
one day leo will fight his own battles.
one day he’ll lock himself in a prison dimension, flashing blue and boundless courage, determined to win a fight no one thought they could.
but it doesn’t matter, because april is his big sister and she will always be there to fight those battles, whether or not leo stubbornly pushes her away or comes to her with faceless shadows hiding in his eyes, whether they’re up against mutants or aliens or themselves.
april will never leave leo alone to fight.
not today, though. and not tomorrow.
not ever.)
Leo unravels their arms, and April hides a frown at the wild pulse hidden concealed by the easy gait and happy voice.
He's a great actor, complete with sparkling smiles and jokes that cover pain with laughs, but if anything, his behavior forced April's own hand, and now is she rarely fooled.
They step out into the street without being harassed by other tenants on the way down, Leo for once ducking before bumping his head into that one spot between the second and third floors. He must really be out of sorts, April realizes, especially as he makes small talk about whether Barry will ever move from the building.
“But who would send my fan plummeting from my ceiling?” She gasps, hand pressed over her heart.
"I hear Casey's available on Thursday nights."
April only laughs, pressed close to him as the bitter cold grabs her throat and squeezes.
She's a badass and can definitely take care of herself, but there's something undeniably nice about having someone like Leo at your side, who will literally scare away everyone.
Leo cuts an impressive figure, broad shoulders and otherworldly eyes a far cry from the tiny turtle that she could cradle in her arms. He's strong, too, impossibly so. She's seen him throw shipping containers like they were baseballs. (Admittedly, it's difficult to pin down any one of her brothers' strength because of the whole "we have mystic powers and one time Mikey threw a building" but...you get the point.) And, ever since the Krang, Leo has a particular Don’t F With Me aura that ends fights before they begin.
Her brother immediately breaks his cool image as he giggles at a pile of trash that apparently "looks exactly like Donnie's face in the morning" and April returns to reality.
They're a funny pair. The mutant and the human on an evening promenade in the blustering cold, hunkering together in piles of winter wear.
It's not funny enough to stop her from wondering about the heavier things, about the dark shadows beneath Leo's eyes, and the slight wall of aloofness between them.
She also weighs the cost of staying up way too late, gossiping about yokai drama, the night before her essay on ancient seafaring techniques is due.
(April loves Leo. She really does. But she knows if he sought her out, he wants to talk.)
“How’s future boy?”
If Leo wasn’t an actual ninja, he probably would have stumbled at the blunt question, especially when he knows exactly where it leads. Instead, an almost imperceptible shiver passes through him. April catches it, regardless.
“Do you have any tips for…dealing with grieving humans?” Leo asks flatly, shoving his hands into his coat, expression carefully blank.
April really wants to follow his train of thought but, like, what?? What is going on?
She notes, “Oh, so we’re just ignoring that you’re part human, now?”
As they turn the corner, making their way towards a park—one of their more frequent night walk locations—Leo shifts uncomfortably, as if he’s trying to stop himself from sinking away.
“I’m being serious, April. Something’s going on,” Leo huffs, some of that fire returning to his eyes.
“Then tell me without beating around the world’s largest bush, baby.”
“It’s just…the more Casey tries to connect to the Hamato Clan, the worse his memories and raging headaches get—you should've seen the other day. He got a whole ass nosebleed from it, and was on the ground. And I can’t help but feel like this is just another that I cau—” he cuts himself short, breath coming out in short, erratic bursts.
Leo reaches out to grab a light-post, the metal warping under his clenched hand.
“Leo, have you been thinking of the invasion again?”
He stops, staring at the ground hard. April catches a brief glimpse of the swirling fear and guilt in his eyes, blotting out the light.
He’s got himself all worked up again and now I’ve gotta bring him down to earth, she sighs to herself.
She’s spoken with Splinter and Raph on multiple accounts, immediately following the Krang and after the breakthrough with Leo months later, checking in on his emotional state and how he’s been dealing with everything. Progress is slow, as one might expect with that kind of trauma, but with happy hearts, they’ve been able to notice a healing attitude.
Every once in a while, and especially around topics surrounding Casey Jones, though, Leo gets…flighty.
(“I suspect it will take a long time for Blue to fully accept that the child does not blame him for the way things unfolded,” Splinter noted one night, as April watched Leo and Casey arguing over a card game. “Blue’s heart is too big for his own good, I sometimes fear. The more he tries to empathize the inconceivable loss that boy’s gone through, the more he will try and rationalize his ongoing culpability.
“One day, he will have to reckon with the difference between his guilt and his love for this new brother.”
April swallowed, mouth dry.
That will be quite the day, indeed.)
“You know how I feel about that,” Leo says quietly, every word more forced. “Any way you look at it, I’m the reason his life’s the way it is.”
April blinks at him innocently, insides churning with frustration.
“Is that why you care about him?”
That snaps Leo out of it.
“No,” he looks horrified, letting go of the pole, wincing at the handprint left behind. “Not at all—he’s smart and brave and he was there for me when I needed it the most. The kid’s not my brother because I feel bad for him, he’s my brother because he’s family and I love him.”
April smiles at how affronted Leo is, at the way he missteps from the path into the grass, at how he’s currently looking at her as if she’s grown two heads.
“Just remember that when you start worrying, okay?” she begins. “It doesn’t do anyone good to get lost in a spiral. If that’s what you think about him, chances are, Casey thinks the same. He isn’t angry with you because his ninpo is acting up—it’s probably something he needs to work through. Though the bleeding is worrisome—we should try and do something about that. He survived and a whole world didn’t. I don’t think survivors guilt comes close to addressing that kind of situation. And if he sees his Sensei when he looks at you, well, I’m not sure there’s much you can do about that.”
All she can see in the park’s poor lighting is that little, red-striped turtle, blinking those wide, gold eyes, listening intently. Rarely does April get to see the vulnerable sweetness of Leo’s youth on display; he keeps it under lock and key.
“Lee, you’ve walked through the fire with him, and that’s all he needs you to keep on doing. Trust yourself,” she presses a hand to his cheek, feeling her ninpo rise to the surface, green and effervescent, as she calls on that Hamato family bond. “We all learn to fight our own battles eventually, but we aren’t alone. Seek Casey out, let him come to you—it’s your decision, since you know him best. But I promise you, things will work themselves out.”
April watches as he chews on that thought, some color returning to him.
“And maybe try lightening up a little bit? Bringing some of that classic Leo?” she emphasizes, fingers forming air quotations. “I get it, Casey’s been through some tough shit, but don’t forget that you’re both stupid teenagers and can do stupid teenager things.”
Leo smiles gratefully, edges softened. Whatever’s been eating at him has abated, somewhat. He shakes out his arms and legs with one big shiver, cracking his neck for good measure.
“You always know what to say, Apples,” he chirps, bounding over to the playground.
And maybe that is why he reached out—because she has experience bringing new people into her family, new people that become her family easily. Leo’s just trying to figure things out with Casey, and it definitely doesn’t help that his future, alternate self was the kid’s dad.
He grabs the monkey bars and swings on top of them, easily.
“That’s what big sisters are for,” April calls up to his towering figure. “But…is there something else, Lee? I can tell something’s still bothering you.”
He hangs upside-down from his knees, suddenly years older, Raph chasm returning.
“Things are getting worse in the Hidden City…”
Leo goes on to explain the other day, with the guys and Casey—when the Winged Terrors' impromptu visit mysteriously aligned with a robbery.
(It sounds too convenient, too connected.)
Something rattles in the bushes close to the slide, silencing him.
Leo’s eyes flash blue and he’s back on his feet, shoving April behind him.
There’s a dim glow coming through the copse of trees—but that could be a lot of things. A glow-stick, a flashlight, some of Donnie’s tech that ran away again.
(Point is: it might be nothing.)
He pushes the branches back, April peering over his shoulder and…
“What is that?” she breathes, an odd feeling crackling down her spine. New York’s got a lot of weird going on, but not like this.
(It’s not nothing.)
A small pool of green, burning bright, lies in a clearing blocked by the initial view of the park. Against the growing shadows of the night, the substance shines as blindingly as the sun. April shields her eyes, skirting around Leo to take a closer look.
“Leo…” she warns, shooting him a glare as he reaches out an arm before her.
“Right, right, I’m sorry,” he raises his hands in defense, giving her some space. Leo doesn’t go far, rankled by whatever unseen force he can sense.
There are spots of the green liquid on nearby plants, but a majority of it remains on the ground, where the pool feeds into an unnatural looking pattern. It looks so familiar, but she can’t exactly place it. Her adventures with the boys involve a lot of moving parts, and she simply cannot remember every single last detail.
This…green stuff, though. Would be nice to know.
April watches as Leo squints at the pool, before stiffening, face paling in recognition. His eyes, gold flares, search this way and that, for the unseen threat.
“Leo? What is it?” she asks, intrigued by why Leo would be having such an intense reaction to something she has no idea what is.
“That’s empyrean—what I was talking about earlier,” he breathes, body tensed, still scanning the park. “It’s here though, the surface.”
Oh shit.
April whips out her phone, snapping a few pictures of the large circle and the symbols etched within. She almost thinks she can see an image of—
A low hiss curls like smoke in the dark.
Her heart is in her throat.
Leo reacts seconds before a shrieking rush of energy flies through the air, right at their heads.
“SHIT!” he barks as he lunges toward her, marking like blue streaks, burning her eyes.
April experiences the next sequences of events in flashes.
Leo, hands outstretched, eyes filled with that battlefield readiness against the flaring green above them.
His arms, tucking her against his shell, as they fly through the air and hit the ground in a tumbling roll.
Her head spins, Leo scrabbling for purchase on the cold ground, blasts of energy raining down on them.
His breath, coming out in harsh pants as he gets back up, katanas unsheathed.
April, disoriented by the burning green and the impact, still lying on her side.
Through blurred vision, she swears she sees a serpent’s tail, slow and deliberate, twining through the trees. It’s streaked with the green, bright and revealing.
Soft and unforgettable at the same time, a low laugh echoes throughout the wood.
A rusty sound, skating along her fear, ratcheting up her heart rate. Rusty not from disuse but from…
From age.
This is an ancient laugh, dipped in moonless nights and pure dread.
Leo fades into the darkness, hunting the snake thing, his body lined in blue as he summons his ninpo—ready to bring their attacker to their knees.
It’s definitely not Hypno, a part of April tries to reason, tries to slow the furious pounding of her heart.
April can barely catch glimpses of Leo's stripes, bursts of his ninpo threading between the trees.
But whatever it is, it’s gone now. Only the breeze and the shifting leaves and occasional car cut through the thrumming silence, through Leo’s patrolling. He flits through the trees, scours the earth, checks the pond and the playground before heaving a frustrated groan.
And then she sees it.
A smile, horrifyingly wide, fangs as long as her forearm.
A serpent woman, green as that strange substance, peering out from the black night—eyes lost in a sickly yellow sheen. She holds a sharp object—a knife, and it’s coated in green. April does not want to know what’s been going on in here.
that snake is wrong it should not be here what is that knife why can’t i move i am stuck she will get me i am so afraid where is leo wHERE IS LEO—
April’s faced a tiny worm man, a papier-mâché army, a sheep guy trapped in demon armor, and her Dead Languages professor.
She was not afraid of them.
She is afraid of this.
April is locked in place, hands trembling on the cool, damp ground. Every part of her body is screaming to get moving, get going but she can’t. Heart pounding enough to make her wonder if it’ll burst, April attempts to summon her ninpo.
It remains just out of reach, a slippery rope.
A forked tongue flickers out, tasting the air, tasting her fear.
it’s going to know what i taste like it’s going to find me it’s going to—
“Lee,” she whispers, voice caught in the brambles. “We need, we need to go, we—we need to go now—”
Leo’s stepped back into existence, crossing over to her with nothing but urgency, and with one sword hurled a nearby building, the other hand clasping her own, they disappear.
April blinks and they’ve teleported to a rooftop, clean and open and far far away from whatever just happened.
She shivers, the night unflinchingly cold.
Leo’s face fills her vision, concerned, as he wraps his coat around her like a second skin.
“What’d you see?”
Her arms and legs are numb, she can’t move them, and these tiny pinpricks—ants are crawling up and down them. April wants to throw herself on the ground, hide in a shadowy corner, scream. Who was that snake lady and why is April so afraid of her?
“A yokai—or, not. A woman and a serpent—”
His eyes fall shut, the slump of his shoulders revealing his dread.
“I’d hoped it wasn’t her, but all that stuff I told you about earlier? She was there. What was that thing? And was she following us?”
April clenches her teeth, willing her body to stop trembling. The longer they stay away from the park, the lesser the horribly off-putting effects of the serpent become, but she still feels wrong.
“I—I don’t think so. It seemed more… more like we stumbled upon whatever she was doing and she—she uh, flipped. Whatever she was doing, though—it had some bad juju. I’m no wimp, Leo, but like, damn. That bitch was messed up."
“Believe me,” Leo raises his brow as he walks over to yank one of his moonlight katanas out of the stone, mouth twisted in consideration, “I know. She was off the other day, and it felt like my whole body was locking up without my control. I could barely speak.
Sheathing his swords, he takes one last long look down at the park, obviously wondering if the serpent was still down there. The dragon on his shell thrashes, agitated.
April just now notices the warmth of the extra jacket, how its pushes back those cold fingers of dread.
Turning to her, Leo asks, “Did you see what she’d been drawing in the ground?”
“Yeah, I got a photo.” she sighs, the image of that strange circle burned into her brain. Those symbols and the empyrean—what could it mean?
“I hope Don will have something by the time we get back. He’s been looking into this stuff, and something weird might’ve popped up.”
Draxum’s face flashes across her vision. She quickly texts her favorite upstairs neighbor, requesting that he get his big pink butt over to the lair asap.
She can almost feel his exasperated sigh, grumbling about the lack of respect these days. However funny, it’s a balm on her frayed nerves, knowing that his knowledge of the mystic arts might help them.
At first, tonight promised an evening walk in the air cold enough to refresh your lungs.
Now, it seems they’ve bitten off more than they can chew again, and this time they weren’t even looking for trouble.
Guess I’ll have to ask for another extension, she thinks glumly of the concluding paragraph awaiting her. April understands there’s probably a potentially world-ending plot at work, but it definitely could’ve waited for Thanksgiving break.
Just saying.
Leo’s on his phone as well, fingers flying as he messages presumably Donnie.
She’s cold and cranky and bone-weary and so lost in her own pity party, it takes Leo several tries to draw her attention.
“…app…Apples—April,” he waves his arms, gold eyes searching deep deep deep. “Are you hurt?”
“Tired, that’s all.”
She releases the breath she’d been holding, taking off her glasses to rub at her aching eyes.
“Ah,” Leo smiles, tucking her under his arm as he summons a portal, brighter than any of the city lights.
“Look, Dee’s already gone and picked up your stuff—laptop included, I know you’ve got work due—and I was wondering if you’d be okay with spending the night in the lair?”
He doesn’t say because a terrifying serpent woman is on the loose.
April nods, leaning against his side. Her eyelids feel heavy, insides a stone.
“One of us will help you finish that paper and then you can rest. I’m sorry you got dragged into this, but we’re gonna figure it out soon,” his soft tone promises i’m here and it’s okay.
In a matter of seconds, Leo carved out a shining pocket of hope and comfort and safety, free from the dark night, without breaking a sweat.
“Who are you and what have you done with Leo, Mr. I Make Everyone Feel Instantly Better?”
“I had a great teacher,” he winks, leading them over to the spinning blue portal.
April barks out a laugh, relishing in the way it breaks the thin layer of ice spreading across her senses, in the way it reminds her of the rowdy, hectic family they’re returning too.
Nothing ever seems so bleak, when she remembers them.
“You’re my boy, Lee.”
“Always have been,” he sings, squeezing her tighter.
—
They’re sitting around the kitchen table, poring over the blown-up image April took of the symbols, green casting a sickly gleam on everyone’s faces.
Leo has brought his brothers up to speed, once he got April squared away in a fluffy blanket and one of Mikey’s mugs of hot chocolate before her, steaming curling upwards/
Raph: nodding along, unfazed by the growing problem.
Donnie: scrunching his beak, hands tracing idle patterns on his legs.
Mikey: clinging to hope with a firm smile.
“Empyrean, as we all know, comes from the Krang.”
Everyone collectively cringes, thinking of the corpse found in the Crying Titan.
(Leo thinks of the alien he was locked away with.)
Barry continues.
“This substance is highly patrolled by the Council of Heads—who have been very lenient with your actions of late, blue one. Regardless, empyrean is what gives the yokai their power, what allowed me to mutate humans, what harmed your power during the invasion.”
Everyone flinches.
“But there is one other thing.”
He pauses, purple ears flickering.
“It is the only substance that can kill a Krang.”
Leo’s pulse hammers in his ears, drowning out the shocked gasps of his family as they take in the information. He’d already been freaked by the mention of the invasion and now the Krang? In the middle of this whole mess with the Winged Terrors?
This can’t be happening.
“…what?” he asks faintly, gripping the edge of the table, barely noticing the rush of purple swirling around him.
“What’s wrong, Lee?” Mikey asks, painfully sweet, blue eyes rounded with concern.
Leo feels a million miles away, adrift in a cold, dark place where the light has long forgotten to visit.
“If someone’s stealing the empyrean…and that’s the only thing that can kill a Krang…”
His words are an anchor, choking the kitchen and dragging its occupants down to the bleak, endless hell Leo thought he escaped for good. He doesn’t even care if his reaction is uncalled for, because the ramifications of what he’s just said are already spiraling off into every which way in his mind.
“Then…then,” whispers Mikey, clinging to Raph’s arm. “Then, is the K—”
Raph quiets him with a hand over his mouth, shaking his head.
Something is howling.
It might be Leo’s mind.
Donnie’s at his side, one stable hand breaching the darkness.
(purple pulls back the curtains, lets in the light.)
nardo. nardo, they’re not here. they can’t hurt you.
(blue is curled in on itself, obscured by a shadow. if blue could speak, it would say—i don’t know if i’m strong enough to face it. not like this.)
(purple winds around blue.)
you are and more. come back.
(orange and red and aquamarine and green flare to life.)
come back.
They light the way back to himself.
Leo allows his family to strengthen his spine, shaping it into iron. He feels their pride, their love, and it is a shield against the dark cloud those pink bastards sometimes send his way.
I can do this. For my family, I can continue. Game plan—figure out what those symbols were.
Another part of him sighs, I cannot stress how much this is truly my worst nightmare.
Leo clears his throat, offering a small smile at the encouraging looks on his family’s faces.
“Thanks guys. We’ll circle back to that later,” he says, wobbly at first. “Empyrean—alien pesticide, yokai power-ups, the oozequitos’ mom. Next: those symbols,” Leo points at one curling icon. “Barry—have any ideas?”
This time, however, it’s Mikey who responds. His hands, time portal cracks almost invisible, fly out in front of him, as he begins to explain.
“I’ve been working with Barry on the mystic arts, and I remember that from a tome a couple weeks ago. It’s a rune for summoning, but at that size, it wouldn’t be for much…”
Draxum looks pleased, as Mikey draws a small orange symbol with a finger—one that matches the image projected.
Donnie claps a metal hand on their baby brother’s shoulder, “Well done, Michael.”
“Yes, well done, Michelangelo. But, as we can see, it repeats multiple times throughout the whole pattern, it routinely appears by the rune for rebuilding, or healing.”
Internally, Leo rolls his eyes. Of course Barry calls Mikey by his name, and not orange one.
Donnie peers closer at the circular image, carved into the grass.
“So…the serpent was summoning…healing? Was she hurt guys?”
April shakes her head, humming.
“She didn’t seem so to me, but it was dark.”
Leo makes known his agreement, trying and failing to remember what the snake woman looked like. But just as she did in the park, the memory slips and fades like smoke in the wind.
“We still don’t have the complete picture, everyone. I might be able to do something—could grab the enchanted ink from my bag?”
No one moves.
Leo exchanges a wary look with Donnie.
Remembering the last time one of them tried to rifle through Barry’s stuff, looking for a spare pen or piece of paper, only to almost incinerate Splinter’s favorite chair, Barry pushes himself up from the tiny stool, abruptly, and stalks out of the room.
“I’ll go and grab it myself,” he amends.
He’s gone for a heartbeat before bursting back into the room, nostrils flared in alarm.
“Who made this?” Draxum demands, holding up what seems like a regular sai with pinched fingers.
Leo squints at it, trying to place the object. It seems…familiar…
But it’s also just a weapon. Could be Raph’s.
Everyone shrugs, not understanding Barry’s point.
“I did,” Casey peeps up, setting down his mug. (Oh, right, Leo remembers. That was us.) “Why? Is there something wr—”
“Wrong??” he questions, incredulity sharpening his expression. “This is a highly unstable mystic weapon capable of terrible things.”
Woah woah woah, enough of that.
“I mean, is it really that bad?” Leo considers out loud, trying to deescalate the quickly unraveling situation.
Casey looks frightfully pale, taking a step away from the table and Draxum. His reaction stokes the climbing flames in Leo, the part of him says not today, not this kid.
“This could sever your soul from your body, make you forget your own name, open a wound that will never heal, boy. So, I suggest you not make jokes about it,” Barry snaps, setting the sai back on the table, only for everyone to lean in and take a closer look. Raph pulls April backward, noting along with Leo the way her intrigued expression says this could be a great new addition to my flaming bat arsenal.
Donnie’s got his goggles flicked down, and he appears to be silently dictating the notes he is currently taking on the weapon, some of the claws from his battle shell fumbling around with a notepad. He tilts his head in concession at Leo, signaling he’s not wrong. this thing’s got some pepper. Leo wants to slap a hand over his face and go to sleep, probably forever. Draxum’s prickly at best but whatever’s going on is out of character—Leo wants to cut him some slack, but the distress he sees in Casey overrides that.
“Barry, we’ve talked about overreactions,” Mikey says slowly, brow lowering in severity.
“Yeah, look Barry—that sai is from when Casey and I were going over creating weapons with our ninpo, not trying to become the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor,” Leo mouths back, unwilling to take shit from his crabby extra dad.
Mikey’s white flag ultimately does nothing.
Something comes alight in Draxum’s eyes.
“From you, I would expect this, but the child? What are you doing to him?”
Leo takes a step back; Barry’s words have pierced a nerve. He hates that the raging sheepman might not be wrong. It’s all of his worst fears of late, laid out on the table.
Something is wrong, and Leo’s involved.
“Uh…” is all he’s able to manage, thrown off his game by the venom.
His brothers and April are similarly surprised into silence—save for Casey. Leo doesn’t even need to unfurl his ninpo to feel the raging aquamarine cyclone hissing and snapping around the kid.
Casey snarls, slamming a hand on the kitchen table with a brutal crack!
“Back off,” he says in a voice that is more than one. Unnerving and ancient and unstable.
Something is severely affecting his ninpo.
As Leo makes eye contact with the kid, a tiny gap opens.
(aquamarine huffs between clenched teeth.)
here. for you.
(blue reaches out a hand.)
you alright, kid? maybe thinking barry’s got a point? feeling a nosebleed again?
(an affronted squawk, tinged with sea-green, smacks blue in the face.)
no to all of it. it’s not you.
Despite the relief he feels at Casey’s conviction, Leo’s stomach plummets in contrast, as he notices the sai writhing on the wood, to the tune of Casey’s ragged breathing, his shoulders rising and falling.
Casey blinks, the flames parting in his fierceness just enough to show Leo that he’s here he’s okay and while it’s weird it’s not the end of the world. trust me, his firm mouth and short nod say.
Draxum remains calm, unsurprised by the outburst. He watches Casey with a cool, appraising expression, glancing back and forth between him and Leo.
“My apologies for the blunt method, but I think we can all point out the obvious. Leo’s a liability to your mystic signature,” Barry looks down at Casey, low tone cutting through the wildness. “He should keep that wild mystic power of his under wraps."
Leo’s ninpo, hisses at that, growing its own pair of fangs. He doesn't need to look down to see his stripes crackling.
(it’s probably not a good time for him to bring up that he saw a memory that wasn’t his.)
Casey is back on the defense, hackles raised at Draxum. Aquamarine begins glowing at the edges of him, thrumming, shifting the atmosphere of the room.
Mikey, ever sensitive to mystic matters, winces at Casey’s revving ninpo.
Leo’s still too stunned to respond, to do anything, after the Krang revelation and now this?—could he really be the one hurting Casey? He would never want to, couldn’t bear to.
Risking a glance up at his big brother, Leo searches for something, anything, in Raph’s green gaze.
Help me, a part of him begs. I cannot speak.
Raph crosses his arms, narrowing his eyes at the sheepman.
The subtle, yet intimidating movement is all it takes to slice through Barry’s incensed mutterings.
“Sorry big guy, but that’s not gonna work around here. We’re not fans of tough love, and especially not with this subject. Leo’s not a liability—he’s a pillar of courage and strength for Jones, and vice-versa. Just because willy-nilly stuff’s acting up and maybe there’s a scary little weapon floating around doesn’t make it okay for you to act like this.”
Leo’s eyes become watery.
Mikey, suddenly clad in a turtleneck and spectacles, nods along.
“Agreed. What they’re going through is something I call, trauma.”
“Angelo, everyone calls that trauma,” Donnie rolls his eyes, monotone.
“Hush, patient.”
Leo’s never loved his brothers more.
“Back to what I was saying,” Raph pushes them aside. “I get you’re worried, but we can’t let our panic about the empyrean and the Krang fuel start hurting our relationships. We’re gonna work together on Casey’s ninpo,” he shoots a Look at Leo, “And not suppress our mystic powers. We figure this out, together.”
April slings an arm around Casey’s shoulders.
“Mad Dogs style,” she concludes.
Casey is a mixture of dark stares and tensed shoulders, fisted hands and unyielding stubbornness.
That is, until Leo gives him the i’m okay, and he unwinds, ceasing his You’re Gonna Regret That glare aimed at Barry. The churning aquamarine see they all feel quiets, its waves shrinking and abating.
Leo presses gratefully into Raph, savoring the gentle rumble of his brother, thankful for the way he’ll always stand up for him, glad he trusts Raph to do so.
“Well,” Barry sniffs, lightly surprised by his family’s defense of Leo. “If that’s how you feel, then I suppose I will do the same. I may feel reluctant about calling you turtle humans my children, but that does not mean I will abandon you in this. I will return to my lab and begin join the purple one’s exploration of the rest of those runes. There must be something—even if I have to break into the Council of Heads’ private collections.”
Raph face plants on the table.
“Don’t encourage Donnie,” he groans.
“Too late,” shrugs Leo’s twin, probably knee deep in the leaders’ ancient archives.
Leo grins at him, excited for whatever shit they dig up. Maybe more gossip material. April winks, her laughing expression saying she knows exactly what’s going on.
The brief break of his family’s jokes soothes the verbal punch from earlier, reminding Leo that Barry’s just doing what he thinks is right, even when it so clearly isn’t.
I’ll cut him some slack. If he thought throwing a child off a building, he probably isn’t great with confrontations or stress.
Barry offers an apology in his pale yellow eyes to Leo, the expression wildly foreign.
Leo nods, slightly. He’s okay, and he understands.
That seems to melt the tension from the sheep.
“I must return to my home, before you fools throw any more curveballs at me, though I can’t imagine how you would top this evening,” Barry pinches the bridge of his nose. “Goodbye, children; remember, empyrean messes with your ninpo, so if you begin experiencing anomalies, you might be close. And tell Splinter I said hello, when he awakes at three tomorrow afternoon.”
“Bye extra dad! We will!” they chorus, much to his chagrin.
As if Draxum’s departure sucked all the energy from the room, Leo watches as his siblings wilt, various stages of exhaustion setting in.
Poor April looks like she might pass out at any moment, dark smudges under her eyes only growing.
Mikey appears to be seriously considering forcing Raph to carry him back to his subway car when Donnie, as he passes by April, says plainly, “You should get some rest.”
“I can’t,” she sighs, heaving her bag onto the kitchen table. “I’ve got just a little bit left, and I won’t be able to sleep knowing I haven’t finished.”
Bleary-eyed, everyone comes to surround her, hissing at the bright light of the laptop.
“What is it—is it about?” Mikey yawns, stretching and rubbing his eyes.
“Boats in the ancient world. You know, the Pharaoh and his sun vessel, Mesopotamian kuphar…”
Leo can’t help but smile at the fascination sparkling all around Donnie, the way he leans into gobble down the new information. But, as fun as his reaction is, it’s ultimately unhelpful. Because if Donnie doesn’t already have something to offer in the knowledge department, it’s not like the rest of them can.
Raph and Mikey blink tiny eyes, mouths barely open as they barely follow.
It’s not looking great.
“The Phoenicians had a maritime religion,” Casey supplies helpfully, his sweet smile and willingness to help extremely endearing—maybe even more than Don.
I was wrong, Leo thinks.
Along with him, everyone’s staring, hard, at the kid, trying to figure out why he would know such random, specific information.
“Uh…how do you know that?”
“I had a book, well, you know…” he trails off, running a hand through his hair.
Leo does his best not to cringe, thinking about Casey’s past life, especially after tonight’s events, hoping his family manages to avoid doing so as well.
“And we weren’t always fighting or on the run. It was a history book, and it had a section on the Phoenician people and their ease with which they sailed the Mediterranean, and I can't believe I'm actually talking about this with you guys, and I'm actually using what I learned,” he realizes with widened eyes.
Why does all of this sound familiar, all of a sudden?
Leo has no idea who these phone people are…why…
he’s falling backward.
(he’s pushing a tattered rug out of the way.
it covers…
hm.
it’s a door.
a door to where?
casey. casey’s room, he remembers.
his hand is shiny and metallic and not his own.
a tiny voice trills.
leo steps into the room.
casey’s eyes, wide and dark and worried, lock onto his.
“sensei?”
…
sensei?
casey looks younger, less scars.
still the same raven’s down hair, tipped nose.
the way he looks at leo.
it is far more loving and open and affectionate than he's ever seen from the kid.
“please don’t be mad, i had a nightmare and uncle tello found me this book…”
“not mad, case. just checking in,” leo says, softly, settling down by casey’s tiny cot, squished into a corner.
where are they? what is this strange room?
“can i read to you?” he asks, toothy grin losing its hesitancy.
“dazzle me, kid.”
these are things leo would say.
these are things leo has never said.
“the phone—the ph,” casey stumbles.
“phoenicians,” leo corrects, wondering who the hell these people are.
“the phoenicians would bring their anchor to the temple of the sea god, a sacrifice. and they would pour out wine into the sea—sounds like a waste.”
“you’re too young to say that,” laughs leo, mussing the kid’s hair.
casey sticks out his tongue.
“they would pour out wine into the sea, lest they wish to submit themselves to an eternal, watery grave.”
sheesh. where did donnie get this book? leo wonders.
“sounds easy enough. pour some stuff out and bring a heavy rock somewhere.”
“agreed.” leo huffs, curling against the cot. “keep on reading, big man. you’re doing great.”
he almost cries at the tiny hand on his shell, going pat, pat, pat.)
Casey’s still talking animatedly, bringing random information out from the cobwebs in his mind.
No one seems to notice what just happened, Leo realizes. And it literally happened again—that’s twice in one day.
“They had to sacrifice their anchor to sea god’s temples, as well as pour out wine into the sea…”
The memory works its way out of Leo’s mouth before he knows what’s going on.
“Lest they wish to submit themselves to an eternal, watery grave,” he finishes, in a daze.
Casey stiffens, painfully, staring at Leo as if he’s seen a ghost. His eyes flick back and forth, rapidly, gathering tears—mouth opening and closing, wordless.
Everyone else gapes, open-mouthed, at him, rightfully wondering where the hell he got that from.
“Um. Correct me if I’m wrong, anyone, but when did Nardo become an expert on ocean religion from thousands of years ago?” Donnie wonders aloud, frowning.
Scratching his neck, Leo blushes. If he wasn’t sure about whose memories those were after earlier this evening, he knows now. The Casey from his vision called him Sensei.
There was only ever one Sensei in Casey’s life.
Just please let it not be demon possession, Donnie will never let me hear the end of this.
Leo groans internally, and extends his arms out in surrender, trying and failing to conjure a grin.
“There’s something else I need to tell you guys…”