Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Life’s unexpected surprises were bound and determined to kill you. The pounding of your heart drummed against your rib cage as you shied away against the alley wall. Nothing could have prepared you for today. Even if someone had told you, you’d still be shocked. Your eyes remained fixed on the large turtle creature in front of you. 

The hulking figure leaned against the opposite wall for support. He panted as sweat dripped off of his green skin. Each breath resounded deep and rough. His face appeared pale in comparison to the rest of his body now. The red bandana contrasted powerfully against his green skin. Clenched in his fist was a tranquilizer dart that had been meant for you. It left a bruise on his shoulder near his rough textured shell. The two of you had barely made an escape.

All this started when your friend, Jennifer, wanted to go dancing at Past Midnight, some new club she had heard about. Parking was a nightmare. After successfully, barely, parallel parking the car, you two passed a shop with a giant waving lucky cat. The large beckoning cat sat surrounded by an army of smaller cats like a true god of fortune. Its cheerful smile seemed more mischievous rather than welcoming. 

The loud music rumbled deep into your body before you even entered. You weren't feeling this scene. You had a rough day at work. Dancing was the last thing you wanted to do. All you wanted tonight was to curl up with a mug of tea and a show. A slight pounding began in your temple that had nothing to do with the music. The hazy air smelled like alcohol and cheap weed. Ugh. You were going to smell after this. You were getting light headed even without drinking. That wasn’t good. You drew the short straw leaving you stuck as the designated driver for this outing. 

When you realized you had lost your friend, you waited, tucked against the wall watching people dance under flashing lights. You scanned the crowd for Jen, but there were too many people. You'd have a better chance of finding Waldo while blindfolded.

Having enough of being a wallflower, you searched the dance floor getting bumped around. Some jerk even tried to grab your ass, but they just drunkenly patted your hip as you passed by. She wasn't at the bar or the toilets either. As your panic for Jen began to rise, you finally found her. Allllll the way across the club back at the entrance with some guy. You watched her fumble with her drink, giggling at something he said. They seemed to be hitting it off. Good for Jen. You guessed.

Alone, out of place, and effectively relegated to being the third wheel, you decided to step out for fresh air. You took the side exit to avoid the hassle of navigating the dancing crowd again.

However, you should have suffered the hassle because your night went from bad to holy shit… 

You walked right into the middle of some sort of back alley deal. Despite trying to casually untangle yourself from this mess and walk away, the thugs decided you were a loose end that needed to be dealt with.

One wild goose chase and miraculous rescue later, here you were.

Loud shouts echoed off the walls and down the streets. The turtle tried to look up, but made himself dizzy. He attempted to move again only to slide to the ground.

“Go,” the turtle whispered. “I can take 'em. You just… get yourself somewhere safe.”

You didn’t know what to expect. This strange creature terrified you, but he had rescued you out of nowhere. He took it on himself to protect you. Shaking, you peeled yourself away from the wall and approached the turtle. You touched his good shoulder with tenderness.

"You aren't taking anyone on. Wait here,” You ordered. "I remember where I parked."

You took off your jacket to drape over his head and shoulders. He protested, begging you to just get somewhere safe, but you would have none of it. You were the only one in any condition to do anything about this. You grabbed anything you could find; trash cans, cardboard boxes, you name it. You made up a small fort to obscure him from view. You felt a little satisfied with the makeshift hideout. It wasn’t much, but if someone wasn’t paying attention they’d miss it.

Running down the alley and darting across the street, you glanced at the street name for later reference. Someone had slapped a tacky band sticker on the sign. The sticker was weather worn and faded. Now the sign seemed to read Lucky street.  

You snorted. 

As if!  

There wasn’t much traffic at this time of night in this neighborhood. Your eyes scanned across the streets looking for any sign of the thugs that had chased you. If you weren’t dodging those creeps, you could have retraced the exact route you had taken. You could have found your way back with ease. Now you were turning down different streets and ducking through alleyways and tucked away courtyards trying to keep out of sight. Crossing two more streets, the surroundings became more familiar. 

Sure. I remember where I parked, but can I get back before they find me?   

“There’s the lil' bitch!” 

No. The answer was no.

You saw them from the corner of your eye on the other side of the street. They had rounded the corner when they spotted you. Every muscle in your body felt on fire and you broke into a dead run. Veering off into another alley, you hoped this way would let out close to where your car was still parked. You vaguely recognized the alley as being the same one you had first run down when all this trouble started. At least, you thought it was the same! 

The yelling got louder. Don’t look back! Your mind screamed. Your eyes focused on only what was ahead.

“Randy! Just shoot 'em! Damn it!” 

Ducking again to turn the corner, you knew you were close when you saw the lit up shop window with the very memorable giant lucky cat display. The shop had since closed and the storefront was dark, save it be the flood of hot pink neon. Its flickering light clashed with the shadows across the cat’s face giving an even more ominous feeling.

I'm sensing a theme. God sure loves his jokes doesn't he? But I have to be close! Where's the car!?

Your hands dove into your pocket for your keys and hit the panic button.  The beeping, wailing siren and bright flashing lights flared up a short ways down the street… behind you. 

In a swift one eighty twist, you scrambled toward your car trying not to trip on yourself. Someone complained about the noise from their window above just as the sound of gunfire cracked in the air. You screamed as you ran, your legs felt like jelly that would melt away without a second’s notice. You fumbled with the key’s button to turn off the sirens and unlock the car. 

Of all the nights to parallel park... You considered abandoning the car and running away again. This spot was going to be a pain to pull out of in a hurry.

Another shot rang out and the door’s window shattered as you opened it. Shattered glass sprayed everywhere. You threw your arm up to shield your eyes. Little shards of debris tinkled against your skin. 

Moving on autopilot, you hopped in. Slamming the keys into the ignition of your much too old car, you revved the engine to life. You threw the car in reverse along with caution to the wind. A heavy thumping crash came from hitting the car behind you. Recklessly, you shifted into drive and peeled out of your parking space. You were sure the speedometer jumped from zero to fifty in a split second.

Screw parallel parking! 

One last shot shattered your back window. You could hear them yelling in the distance.

“Jesus Christ, Randy! The hell kinda’ shooting was that!?”

You drove several blocks before you gasped for air. Your grip on the wheel remained tight, but you began to take each breath deep and slow. Your mind focused on each breath. You wouldn’t say you calmed down, but you weren’t on the edge of a panic attack now. You smiled softly to yourself. 

“I did it! Oh my God!" You say to yourself as you wiped away the tears that began springing up in your eyes. 

You drove for about ten minutes deep breathing to cope with the stress. Your whole body shook from exhaustion. Each time you checked the rear view mirror, you felt calmer. You had lost them for now, but the turtle guy was still back there.

Pulling over under a flickering streetlight, you surveyed the damage to the car. The glass from the back window covered everything. Moving as fast as you could, you retrieved the snow scraper from your trunk. By some miracle, the trunk opened. The rear end suffered a deep, cavernous dent. However, you now had the problem of the trunk not fully closing… 

Using the snow scraper’s brush, you sweep all the glass into the street. The little shards fell in tinkling waves on the asphalt. 

Thank God for pleather seats.

Most of the glass slipped out easily. Still there was no way to get it all out, but it would have to do for now. There were hundreds of small shards still littering the floor. Like tiny stars, they caught the light from the street lamp, winking at you from the floor. From the trunk, you pull two emergency blankets to lay on the back seat to act as at least some kind of barrier over whatever glass you missed.

Now you feel a little more confident about helping your rescuer. You began driving back to "Lucky Street". Your mind split between keeping an eye out for the thugs and creating a plan. Your hand tightened even more on the steering wheel once you turned down the road. 

No one was there and you couldn’t hear anyone. The cool air fluttered across your face through the broken windows. You finally returned to the front of the alley. Nothing looked out of place from when you left it. The moon shone bright overhead. It had since risen to the point of flooding the alley with its soft ethereal light. The mini fort appeared undisturbed.

You backed into the alley and parked. A ragged breathing could be heard from the trash fort you had made as soon as you stepped behind your car.

“Mr. Turtle?” you whispered. “I’m back.”

Trying not to make any loud noises, you pulled away the box and things. 

“Oh no.” you grumbled to yourself. He had thrown up since you had been gone. "Are… are you okay?"

He opened his eyes, but didn’t seem to recognize you. He looked even worse. His face looked like a minty pastel. You could see dark circles hung around his eyes even with his red mask on. Sweat dripped off of his skin. You felt for a pulse against his neck, trying to be gentle with him. Dull, but steadily it beat in his veins. He wouldn’t stay conscious long. A tranquilizer shouldn't have made him sick though. 

Is he having an allergic reaction? Or is this not actually a tranquilizer?

As you reclaimed your jacket, you thought about this situation. Why bother shooting a tranquilizer at you when those goons ultimately resorted to shooting good ol’ fashioned bullets? 

The tranquilizer lay nearby. Your heart began to race. Kneeling down to get a look at it, the vile had a trace amount of a pinkish fluid. You gingerly picked it up, cautious of the needle. You shuttered. Against the screaming in your head, you placed it in your jacket pocket. You don't know what doctor you could find who could help, but they'd have to know what he was drugged with. Perhaps they could figure out what the fluid had actually been.

Just great! I have a dirty, drugged needle in my pocket that may or may not be lethal. Great. My life is just great.

You took a deep breath and tried to refocus. Taking care, you hefted the turtle onto your back. His heavy ragged breath tickled your ear, sending sharp shivers down your spine. The big guy began to slide off. Summoning another round of strength, you were less gentle this time, as you managed to get him up. This time you were careful to keep his face away from your ear. Sensation of whispers or breathing in your ear always feels unpleasant to you. His chest rested flat against your back. Your hand clasped his arms around your neck before he could fall off again.

“Oof!” you panted. He was so heavy!

The wall became your main support as you stood. Your bent knees protested, threatening to buckle. You found you couldn’t lift him anymore than you had.

“Hey. Hey. Come on, big guy.”

He grunted, but gave no real response.

“We’ve got to walk. Come on.”

Time to just go!  

Every few steps you stumbled with your load as you made your slow agonizing walk forward. Despite his barely lucid state, he was helping a little. Though his efforts were more like standing and dragging his feet as he used you for support. The heel of your shoe slipped as you misstepped. Throwing out your arm, you caught yourself on the wall. The sleeve on your jacket ripped. A seething hiss passed through your clenched teeth. This jacket was thin, but perfect for the slight chill of an early fall evening. Tingles chased up your arm seconds before the stinging set in. You liked this jacket.

Your head became light again this evening. You weren't used to so much physical activity. How long could your adrenaline high last? You began to sound like your turtle companion with your heavy, desperate breathing. You were glad you backed into the alley. There would have been no way you could haul him all the way to the street.

You slapped your cheek. No quitting! Let’s do this!  

While the streets were quiet, those thugs could show up at any time. And given your current situation, well, you preferred not getting made into Swiss cheese with bullets. That, or get a dose of what this poor guy had been shot with. You couldn’t help being somewhat amused with how lucky you were.

Summoning up the rest of your energy, you fought your own tired, achy body to move forward. You trudged on together with clumsy, shaky steps. The turtle groaned as he began slipping off of your back. He was mumbling some incoherent nonsense.

“Come on, big guy! We’re so close! Don’t make me drag you!” you growled through your teeth as you plodded forward.

Finally! Finally, you two reached the car. 

Unintentionally, you plopped him a little too hard into the back seat. You winced at his loud grunt. It sounded like he hit the seat buckle.

“Oh! Sorry, Turtle-Guy! I didn’t mean to,” you stroked his head to calm him.

He was still mumbling to himself. Or to you, but you couldn’t understand a word of it. The turtle reached up to hold your hand. For a brief moment in the drugged haze, his eye flashed with clarity.

"Second time around."

"Um… okay?" You weren't sure what he meant.

"Can you take me there?" He slurred. Then he rolled over on his side, threw up again, and fell asleep. 

"Wha- what? What do you mean take you a second time around? That's so esoteric! Mr. Turtle! Hey! Hey !" You shook him, but he would wake up again.

Giving up, you pushed the rest of his bulky body into the car and wrapped him up with the second emergency blanket to keep him hidden. Then without waiting for anything else to go wrong, you got in and hit the gas. 

Your hand reached into your pocket to get your phone. Vile of the tranquilizer brushed against your fingertips. You had forgotten all about it! 

I could have pricked myself with that stuff!  

Without another moment to spare, you pulled the thing out and placed it in the cup holder.

At first, you had planned to call the cops when you were being chased, but your sick green friend changed everything. You kept your eyes on the road as you went over everyone you knew. You wondered who you could trust to help you with something this crazy. And your mental list was filled with- absolutely nobody. Your parents lived out of state. Your roommate was practically a stranger. Your friend was still at the club partying. You were pretty sure she wouldn't want anything to do with… whatever you had gotten yourself into. You weren't that close. You were alone in New York with no one to turn to.

But whatever you were going to do, you needed to do it fast. If the police saw you driving around with shot out windows, you were getting pulled over and your green buddy would vanish to some mysterious government lab for sure.

His request rattled around in your head. Is this some cryptic code to solve or did he mean something else?

Or is he just high as a kite?

Second time around...

You slowed as you approached a red light. As you mulled over some possibilities. You saw a bus stop bench plastered in faded ads for the club you had gone to, Past Midnight.

Is it the name of a place?

It was worth a search online at least. No one was around, so you ignored the changing of the light to type it out on your phone.

And sure enough it was one of the search results. You stared at the image of the antique store front. Was this really what he meant? With no further leads, it was at least worth a shot.

Chapter Text

You parked in a spot that looked like the place where the store got deliveries. You were short on gas, so you turned off the car with great reluctance. All seemed quiet, excluding the normal hum of the city. No one was out in this area as far as you could see.

At the front of the building, the dark shop windows only held vintage dresses and furniture. Nothing about the place seemed to hold the answer to your predicament. Steeling your nerves, you knocked on the front door. There was no answer. To be expected at this hour, but still! You sort of hoped that something magical would happen. You had a giant turtle man in your car for heaven's sake. The possibilities were sky high at this point!

Going running around to the back again, you tried knocking on the back door. You kept wringing your hands. You felt hot. Every anxious puff of breath released the tension, yet with every breath you drew, your body pulled it right back in. Your eyes darted from side to side, chasing the threat of imaginary shadows you saw in the corners of her eyes. You feared they’d be real and those thugs had tracked you down.

Another knock and still nothing. Looking up, you could see there must be an apartment upstairs. The cheesy 90s movie cliché of throwing rocks at the window crossed your mind. Even if you had rocks, you didn't want to cause any damage. A metallic clank caught your attention as your foot brushed against a crushed soda can.

Thank you New York for your bounties of street litter.

You tossed it in your hand getting a feel for its weight. Light enough it shouldn't break anything, but dense enough to make a sound. You flung it as hard as you could at the window. It sailed true and accurate to you aim and-

Tink!

You wondered if that had been loud enough. Picking it up, you launched it again.

Tink!

"No… this isn't going to do." You mutter.

After another few minutes, you'd gathered multiple discarded cans, a shoe, and some foil ball that was probably discarded lunch. If this didn't work, you hit the panic button on your car again as a last resort. Subtlety be damned.

Tink! Tink! Thump! Tink! Splap!  

Oh, that was definitely some old lunch.

Ew.  

Tink! Tink!

Winding up to throw another can, the window snapped open.

"EY! THE FUCK! Knock it off!" A man with long dark hair snarled down at you. You could hear some soft mumbling behind him, but couldn't make out what was said. "Babe. There's some punk ass kid throwing trash at the window. Ey! Whadda' want?"

You immediately regretted this. This had to be a mistake. Well, you came this far.

"Um? Sorry, but uh…" you struggled to know what to say. If this wasn't the right place, telling them you had a weird, turtle man in your back seat could be trouble. After what the turtle guy had done for you, you couldn't bear the thought of causing him harm.

"H-how do you feel about…. Turtles?"

The man only stared at you. Maybe you could play this off as a prank. This must not be the right place and you just harassed some rando! 

The man bolted from the window. You could hear the couple talking in panicked tones.

"Casey!" You hear a woman cry.

You dropped the rest of the trash and made a break for your car, but the man had been faster. He flew out the back door at you with a hockey stick. He stood between you and your vehicle. Now down at your level, he was taller than you and pretty muscular. Fighting back wasn’t an option. But if you had to run again, you might drop dead regardless.

"Alright, you got our attention. Whaddya' mean about turtles." He growled.

A red headed woman stood at the back door in her robe watching carefully. The two eyed your shot out car with suspicion. Shaking from a chilly breeze, or maybe fear that this guy was going to break your legs, you point to the car feeling pretty dumb. No choice, but to move forward.

"Uh… uh… I have one. In my car. He's wearing a red bandana." You said. "He's on my backseat. If I'm in the wrong place, I'll leave."

The man, Casey, shared a look with the red head. He turned back to you.

"Alright, why's he not coming out then."

"He's… he's not doing well." You mutter starting to tear up. "He just said take him here, I guess. I mean, this was the best I could figure out from what he said and-"

The woman rushed out and went over to your car.

"April, wait! This could be a tr-"

Opening your back door, she found the covered up form of your turtle passenger. She threw back the blanket and found him, pale faced and sweat drenched. Casey abandoned his aggressive stance to help April.

"Oh buddy. What'd they do to ya'?"

"Tranq dart, I think." You said. "Tranq darts shouldn't make you sick though, right?"

"You two get him inside. I'm going to call the guys and get the first aid kit." April ordered as she ran back into the building.

Casey hefted the turtle by his arms. He ordered you to help lift by his legs. Together you hauled him into the building. The warm, musty scent of antiques swarmed your senses. It smelled like old paper books and grandma's house. Well, what you imagined most grandmas’ houses should smell like. Your grandma was a bitter old chain smoker who lived off coffee and pound cake until the day she died. You couldn’t see much in the hallway. The buttery tinted light revealed some boxes in the hallway and an old console table with decorative curved legs.  And then you saw the stairs.

You groaned. Even with Casey bearing most of the weight you didn't think you could make it on your jelly legs. You huffed curses as you two began ascending with the turtle man. Casey smirked, pressing his lips together trying not to laugh at you. The stairs creaked with each step. You nearly missed a step. Damn traitorous heels! You wobbled before you pressed your shoulder against the wall to catch yourself. Casey laughed in earnest.

"Take it easy. Let's not fall and die." 

"Sorry, I'm not wearing my "turtle moving" shoes." 

You almost would prefer to be barefoot. Your shoes were comfortable for some dancing, but after living in an action movie for the past two hours you could feel a pinch burning on your heels. You were certain you had some nasty blisters. 

When you finally made it up to their apartment, April had already set up the couch with bed sheets and had an impressive spread of supplies. Carefully, you and Casey laid the turtle down. Once he was settled on the couch April wiped his mouth clean of any remaining vomit.

"The guys will be here in a minute. They've been out looking for Raph all night." She spoke with soft tones to Casey, perhaps trying to be discreet. You couldn’t hear too well. "Sounds like he and Leo got into another tête-à-tête…"

His name is…. Wrath? He was a scary guy when he first showed up. Was that really his name?

"Yeah, so Leo's going to be in a mood. What about-"

"I've given him a heads up."

They were talking about you. It sounded like your involvement might be problematic. You wondered if you should excuse yourself. You successfully delivered your turtle hero to safety. While you wanted to stay and make sure he'd be okay, you didn't want to overstay your welcome by any means. April noticed the clicking of your shoes as you shifted your weight.

"Those look uncomfortable. You want to take them off?"

"Oh, o-okay." You stuttered. Guess this was the invite to stay.

However, you didn’t get the chance to get comfortable. A bumping noise from another room caught your attention. Soft, muffled voices floated through the door.

"Hey, Mikey. Just a thought, but you want to try being quiet like, I don't know, a ninja ?"

"But it's gross!"

The bedroom door burst open and another turtle appeared wearing an orange bandana.

"Hey guys, there was some nasty old hoagie crap all over the window. What's that about?" He grimaced as he squeezed his hand feeling the stickiness.

You sharply look away as you know Casey is shooting you a glare. You can feel it burning in the back of your skull as you pretend to find April's kitchen appliances very, very interesting all of a sudden.

Standard off white? Good choice Ms. April. Sure goes with everything!

Blessedly, another turtle appeared, moving the first out of his way. This one wearing purple.

Color coded for convenience? You wonder.

He carried a large duffel bag and a huge stick on his back. He paused for only a moment when he saw you, surprised by an unfamiliar face, but dismissed his surprise quickly. You guess April's heads up wasn't communicated to everyone. Purple went to your turtle laying on the couch. April offers her assistance as he starts to examine… his brother? Maybe? Most likely?

The giant stick was a bit unusual, but you realized it. Turning back to face the orange one, yet another turtle appeared, this one carried swords. You realized they all had weapons. The orange one had nunchucks, the blue one had swords, and you remember your turtle had some kind of weapon too. But you weren't to familiar with weaponry in the first place. You wondered if they were superheroes? It made sense as far as you could figure.

The blue one's gaze unnerved you. He had such a sharp look in his eye and you knew he was evaluating you. This one must be Leo, you guessed. His eyes swept over you. He lingered on your arm, scrapped and covered in dried blood. After what seemed like eternity, he spoke to the purple one.

"How is he Don?" He said. Blue moved over to the first aid kit fishing out bandages and antiseptic wipes.

"He's out like a light, but based on what April said, if it actually is a tranquilizer, then it sounds like he had an allergic reaction. I'll have to run tests to know for sure what’s happening.”

“Do you need it?” You remembered the needle still in your cup holder. “I saved it! It’s in my car! Let me go get it!”

However, before you can leave the room, the blue one catches you by your arm.

"Hey, you come with me. I'll help you with your injuries. Mikey, go get the needle from the car."

“And be careful.” You add. 

Leo led you to April's kitchen table and politely pulled out a chair for you. Blue went to work disinfecting the scraps. He asked you to explain what happened. You walked him through the events of the night, sparing no detail. He didn't ask anything, but would nod as you went over certain points to confirm he was still listening.

Periodically, you sucked air through your teeth as some spots stung worse than others. You could only watch for a second at a time. You were glad you didn't have to do this alone. First aid was not your talent. Old memories of summer camps you were forced to go to keep coming back to mind. You will never forget when that girl, Sasha, ripped her leg open on that hike. Nor will you forgive yourself for throwing up and passing out. So embarrassing. 

He set aside the now pinkish red wipes to where you let your gaze rest on the table. He moved on to patching your arm with bandages. 

"And… he asked you to bring him here?" Was the first question he asked this whole time.

"Well, yeah. Why would I ever think to bring him to an antique shop?"

He gave a huffy sigh. Clearly, he was displeased about something. 

You. It was you, wasn't it? 

You stumbled assed your way into their secret, but wasn’t that a small price compared to- oh maybe, their brother’s life?!

You didn’t really know these people, yet this stung. You weren’t exactly good to have in a crisis, as your summer camp reminiscings reminded you. So, actually to do something, something that should have been impossible, something that mattered and to have this guy act so disappointed just- 

You scoffed. 

"What. Was I supposed to leave him?"

"Wha- no. I didn't say-"

"Then what are you huffing about, hm? Not that it's any of my business, but I heard Ms. April say "Leo and Wrath" were fighting. So," You started pointing out the other turtles in the living room. "If that's Wrath, and that's Don, and that's Mikey- then you're Leo, right?"

"Yes." He said, surprised how fast you picked up on their names. They hadn't even introduced themselves yet.

"So, are you really that mad at your bro- erm… your brother?" You stumbled and waited for Leo to confirm. "Right. Your brother. So, are you that mad at him you'd rather have had me leave him sick in an alley? Or do you think me finding out about you guys isn’t worth his life?"

"No! I'm not saying that! I'm just frustrated, okay? He runs off all the time, but… it wasn't even over something important. If I had just not made a big deal then he wouldn't have gotten hurt." He said, unable to make eye contact with you.

Leo gently smoothed the edges of a bandage over the scrapped skin. The tension let go of you. In hindsight, that hadn’t been fair of you. He was stressed, but so were you. Clearly, neither of you were handling things very well. You looked over the bandaging yourself. You wouldn't say it out loud, but you were glad Wrath did run off. If he hadn't, you'd be dealing with way worse than a self inflicted scrape.

“Nothing to do about what's been done, right? It's all about what we do next.” 

The blue banded turtle solemnly nodded as he fiddled with the leftover trash from the bandage packaging. A small smile tugged at his lips, 

“Yeah, you're right.” He said. “I’ve heard something like that before.”

A loud tune burst out and vibrated in your pocket causing both of you to jump up at the same time. Leo held his hands out, signalling to you to wait.

"Heeey!" You said as you answered your phone, ignoring him.

It's Jennifer. You had forgotten all about her by this point. Leo huffs with a frustrated sigh. He's so uptight. You wonder if he's always like this.

He grabbed your shoulder, startling you.

Don't say anything about us. You read from his lips. That unnerving gaze pierced you once more.

"Are you listening to me!?"

“Yes! Of course! ” You squeaked, answering both Jen and Leo with one answer.

Jen huffed into the speaker. Someone spoke in the background, but you couldn’t make it out.

"Where are you?"

Oh no. Lying was your other weakness. You wished you could say it was because you were too honest, but in reality, you lacked the right amount of charisma to pull it off. And thinking up an air-tight lie on the spot was next to impossible.

"I- um..." You stumble over your words.

You swept your gaze out to the living room as if the lie you needed would be there standing fully formed. Whatever you said had to be believable. You recalled the best lies are partially true, or something. What could you have done that would explain why you left the club without her? What have you done tonight that you could twist into something plausible? Jennifer snapped your name over the phone, demanding an answer.

"I went home with a guy!" You shout back, panicked.

...

Oh my God. 

The horror of what you said dawns on you.

Leo immediately lets your shoulder go with an awkward squeak. His cheeks become a deeper color. His green skin doesn't turn pink, but you can tell he's blushing. And so are you. You slap your forehead wishing you could take it back. In the living room, someone is choking back their laughter. You turn away to face the fridge because it was the only thing in the room you were sure wasn't judging you right now.

“You ditched me for dick?”

“What? No! I mean-” you try to back peddle.

“Good for you, but you were the designated driver. You need to come back to get me.” She said.

You were never going to live this down.

“Okay. No problem. I can-” Your car looks like it crawled out of a war zone. “NOT do that!”

Color drained from your face. You were being such a bad friend right now. Not that there was much you could do about it. The questions she’d bombard you with were unanswerable. Forgot Jen- what if the police pulled you over? You were lucky so far, but luck is fickle.

You tried to create a reason you couldn’t drive back to get her as she lit into you. You rocked back and forth on your heels like it would shake an idea loose.

“I left the car at the club!” You yelled to get through her rant.

“It’s not here, you liar!” Jen’s yelling has become crying at this point.

“M-maybe it got towed? I- I don’t know. I swear I left the car there.” You squirmed. You sounded so fake. Even drunk Jen was seeing through your bullshit.

Jen's incoherent whining rambled on about something in response. You tried to soothe her to get her to stop crying. She was a bit of a sloppy drunk. She had relied on you being there and let loose on drinking tonight. You had never intended to abandon her even if you did even want to be there.

You spun around to face Leo. You gestured to the living room where you dropped your purse. He didn’t quite pick up on what you mean, but fortunately Mikey seemed to understand you as he tossed your bag across the room. It was an impressive throw. Too bad it wasn’t as impressive as a catch. It bounced out of your hand, but you snapped your finger around the strap before it could completely fall.

“No. I don’t know what happened to the car. NO! I mean, no! We don’t need to call the police!” You hoisted the purse on the counter and got out your wallet.

A well worn mini notepad sat with the few meager dollar bills you carried just in case. It was your ledger. Sure, you could check your bank app, but you liked writing it down. When you opened your first bank account, it was how your mother taught you to keep track of your expenses. It was a habit and easier to you at this point. You debated between your debit card and your credit card.

You let out a pained sigh. You have the money, but this would be expensive either way.

“Okay. Okay. Jen. I’m coming. I’ll get an uber or something.” You groaned.

But Jen finally calmed down.

“But what about your car?” She said through her sniffles.

Success! She believed your lies! Thank you, alcohol!

“Let’s… not worry about it right now, okay?”

And you really didn’t want to think about it right now. How were you going to afford the repairs? With hope, you could think of a better lie to explain the damages to the mechanic.

Ending the phone call, you breathed a sigh of relief it was over. As you, turned back to everyone else.

“So… I gotta’ go.” You said.

You couldn’t look any of them in the eye after the silly and embarrassing lie you told.

“Wow. Running out before the guy wakes up. Cold.” Mikey joked. 

A harsh slap cracked the back of his head. April's firm, unamused gaze chastised him. He sheepishly mumbled his apology. You ask April and Casey if it’s okay to leave your car with them for now. You pull the old key off your key ring to give to Casey. You’d drop by tomorrow to deal with it.

When the uber arrived to pick you up, April, Mikey, and Leo walked you down to the door. Mikey and Leo hung back before you entered the shop front where the uber was waiting out front.

“Please, don’t tell anyone about us. It’s not-”

“Not safe for you or for me, yes, Mom .” You sighed with an eye roll. It’s the third time he’s lectured you. You glanced over to Mikey. “Is he always like this?”

“Worse actually.” Mikey shot his brother a smug grin. Then Mikey looked back to you with a shyness that wasn’t there before. “Thanks for helping Raph. Really. Really appreciate it sis.”

You got the feeling a hug would be in order. You opened your arms in invitation. Mikey seemed surprised, but gladly scoops you up. A loud pop came from your back. A brief flash of mild pain and then relief spread from the spot. Leo patted Mikey’s shoulder.

“Take it easy!”

“No, I’m good!” you assured them. “Felt good actually. Usually you have to pay for that kind of thing.”

Mikey finally let you go. You stretched out a little more, feeling much better.

“Okay, then. Goodbye. I hope Wrath feels better soon.” You said. This did remind you of one last curiosity that you wanted to know. “Actually, sorry if this is rude, but why is he named that?”

Mikey looks at Leo with a shrug. Leo seems to think it over.

“Master Splinter is fond of renaissance artists.” He said. “I’m not sure why he gave us the specific names we have.”

“Wait? Artists?”

“Yeah.” Mikey chimed in. “He’s Raphael. I’m Michelangelo. And he’s Leonardo. And then also Donatello.”

“That makes so much more sense.” You whispered feeling very dumb. They all had real names. You were almost embarrassed you didn’t piece it together yourself.

“What? What do you mean?”

“Oh! Nothing, I just misunderstood what his name was, that’s all.” You said.

You tried to leave, but Mikey blocked your way. He wore a mischievous smile, the image of the lucky cat from that shop flickered in your mind.

“Hold on! What did you think his name was?”

You felt a vibration in your pocket. The driver must be getting annoyed. He wasn’t moving. You decided to own up to your silliness to leave faster.

“I thought you guys were saying Wrath. Like, you know, angry, aggressive… yeah.” You trailed off at the end.

The second they processed what you said, both turtle brothers and April laughed hysterically. You wait a moment for them to calm down to say a real final goodbye. But every time they seem to wind down they share a look and the laughter starts up again. Seeing as how they aren’t stopping anytime soon, you playfully pushed Mikey out of your way.

“Okay! Okay! Bye!” You shouted over your shoulder. You're pretty sure you hear April at least manage to say her goodbyes.

The shop bell chimed as you stepped out into the chilly night air to meet your waiting driver.

On the ride back to the club, the tension in your muscles finally released. Mikey's impromptu chiropractic hug had helped. You couldn’t wait to get home. Your bed was the only place you wanted to be now. The lights of the city began to blur together out the window. They became mesmerizing and your eyes fluttered as if they were heavy. You warned your driver you might fall asleep and to wake you to get to your destination.

“Wild night?” He guesses.

“You have no idea, my guy.” You murmured as you drift off to a half sleep, dreaming about turtle people.