Note: Minor alterations to Rise of the Ninja Turtles - The premise remains the same, the character motivations are the same, but the oddball has been dialed back down to 1 and the wide presence of wildly mutated creatures dialed up to a more realistic 11.
From the top of the stadium, the beach stretched out to the ocean where the water touched the stars—impossible to tell where the sky ended and the earth began. To their left, Luna Park's ferris wheel sparkled over the golden lights and carnival music, and to their right, New York blazed with a summer intensity that drowned the sky in fluorescent flashes of neon. The salt breeze blew away the heat rising from the pavement, and the air was full of the clean scents of sugar and sand.
On nights like these, Michelangelo could almost forget that he wasn't invited.
"I wanna ride the ferris wheel," he sighed, dangling an arm over the side of the stadium's roof. His legs kicked back and forth in the air. "The cotton candy looks good even from here."
That was a lie. The cotton candy wasn't even visible this far away, but then Michelangelo didn't really want any. They had both filled up on stadium food. Beside him, sitting crosslegged with his sword on his back, Leonardo casually swept his arm over the roof, sending the wrappers of a dozen stolen corndogs and hotdogs and pizza and milkshakes tumbling down to the empty seats below.
"You're lucky Raph's not here," Michelangelo said.
Leonardo's smile said how much he cared about that.
"What o-ni-sama doesn't know won't hurt us," he said, flicking the last french fry pouch over the side. "Let the humans think there were kids sneaking in watching the game for free. S'truth, ain't it?"
The crack of the bat grabbed their attention, and Michelangelo cheered as the Brooklyn Cyclones took a homerun that brought three other runners across the base. The score was up by three, twenty against the Gotham Knights' seventeen, and amidst the cheers, Michelangelo took another long drink of soda and cast a look at the park.
"We could probably sneak into the candy place," he said. "You think?"
Leonardo's smile never changed even though his stomach clenched at all the reasons why he didn't think so. The lights were still on. There were still humans inside. The crowds weren't showing any signs of thinning. The game would be over soon and the small throng inside the stadium would soon empty out onto the boardwalk. Too risky, and if they were spotted, Raphael really would tear him apart. But Leonardo wouldn't let that ruin his little brother's fun.
"Oh no, I am not taking you to get anything else after the junk you just plowed through." Leonardo shook his head with a long-suffering sigh. "I remember taking you home after we hit the mall."
"That wasn't my fault," Michelangelo said, coming up on his elbows. "That was food poisoning."
"That was you eating enough for four turtles," Leonardo said. "Besides, we came for the game. We'll swing by, pick up a hat and a shirt, then head home."
And avoid the crowds and the lights and the music that made it hard to hear anything sneaking up on them. A large shirt would fit his little brother easily, and then Leonardo would send him off to bed while taking the scolding from Raphael and Splinter for being out so late.
"I wish Raph and Donny had come," Michelangelo sighed. "It sucks they don't like baseball."
Neither did Leonardo, if he told the truth. But he liked the ocean air and the stars and the time with his little brother.
Leonardo shrugged. "Their loss."
The last minutes of the last inning were winding down. As the people beneath them began to gather their things, Leonardo stood and stretched, then offered a hand down to his sibling.
"Let's get out of here before everyone else does," he said. "Beat the crowd."
Michelangelo gave a last look at the distant boardwalk, then took his hand with a last sigh.
The way out of the stadium was easy—just a slide down the stairs and then out over the balcony. The route took them right behind the souvenir stand for quick pickings, with Leonardo grabbing the shirt Michelangelo pointed at and grabbing a baseball cap to go with it. He made his brother put them on now, using them as camouflage, then led him into the long shadows across the parking lot. They darted between the cars, one step ahead of the humans, and Michelangelo followed him up onto the bus stop canopy.
"I figured we'd ride our way back," Leonardo whispered. "It won't take as long."
Beneath them, several humans sat restlessly on the bench, leaning against the walls, making phone calls and drunken conversation that easily swallowed any sound of their voices. But behind the shelter, a single human stood in a trench coat, his hat hung low over his head. Leonardo wasn't sure what the human was watching for, but just the fact that he was alone made Leonardo all the more wary.
"We're in trouble anyway," Michelangelo whispered. "We should bring back a pizza or something. A full Raph is a happy Raph."
"He's always full of something," Leonardo muttered.
A voice beneath them, dishearteningly familiar, answered before Michelangelo could.
"Now now, if you bad mouth him, I'll have to let him know."
"Donny!" Michelangelo jumped down from the bus shelter and put his arms around what was now obviously not a human in a trench coat.
Putting up with the hug with a fond sigh, Donatello glanced up at Leonardo. Any good cheer from the ball game had immediately fled, leaving Leonardo sullenly staring out toward the beach, at the parking lot, anywhere but at him.
"Don't feel too bad," Donatello said. "Cyclones versus the Knights? Of course you'd take Mikey to watch."
Leonardo didn't answer.
"And..." Donatello said, dragging out the syllable. "I got Raph to agree that your punishment is to help me cart things back from the hardware store."
Leonardo closed his eyes in long-suffering silence.
"Aww." Michelangelo looked up at him with wide eyes. "Are you really gonna be mean? I was the one that begged Leo for a week."
"Exactly," Donatello said. "You both should have said where you were going."
"Raph would've said no," Leonardo muttered. "He hates baseball."
"Like we ever get into trouble," Michelangelo protested. "We've never gotten seen or spotted."
"And the window smashing at the mall?"
"That was the mutant squirrels in their air conditioning," Michelangelo said. "You can't pin that on us."
"Well, Raph did, and he's pinning this on you, too." Donatello gently pushed him back, patting his head once. "So, do you want to come help me move some equipment, or do you want to chance what he'll do if you don't?"
The trick to dealing with his little brothers, Donatello had found, was to give them the illusion of choice. Leonardo was starting to get too old for the trick, but he would follow Michelangelo if only to keep him safe.
"...is it a lot?" Leonardo asked.
Donatello smiled. "Some wire, duct tape, nails, screws...a lot of little things. And a couple black lights."
Leonardo straightened, his eyes wide. "What?"
"I got a request from a certain pain in the shell to change out a couple light bulbs," Donatello said, raising an eyeridge. "So we can toss a few of those on the pile, right?"
With a rueful half-smile, Leonardo sighed to himself and slid off the shelter. He didn't look at Donatello but rather just slightly tilted his head toward him. It was a habit that hit Raphael's angry button, as if Leonardo didn't respect him enough to look him in the eye, but Donatello didn't begrudge his shorter sibling any of his little self-defenses.
The hardware store happened to be a Home Depot only a few blocks away. Leonardo gave his brother a curious look as they approached from the back, avoiding the main doors and instead heading up to the roof. Donatello noticed and read his meaning.
"Yeah, I'd rather hit a little store," Donatello said, waving them toward the access panel. "But this one's cameras are all outside or on the cash registers. We should be good if we don't go near the loading bays."
Which meant some cramped crawling through the air conditioning ducts, but they came out easily at the ceiling and climbed down the high scaffolding holding long pieces of lumber. Donatello peered around the corner, waving his siblings after.
"Relax," Leonardo whispered, "I don't think this place has security guards. Nobody's gonna steal piles of two by fours."
"I steal piles of two by fours," Donatello hissed back. "But I think you're right. Stay close—I don't want to get a nasty surprise."
Leonardo rolled his eyes at his overabundance of caution, but he dutifully followed at his heels. He glanced over his shoulder. At least Michelangelo was enjoying this unexpected outing, staring wide-eyed at this small glimpse at the human world, picking up anything that caught his fancy, nevermind if it was useful or not. Air fresheners, lawn lights, a whole box of candy bars—Michelangelo picked up a shopping basket and filled it up with spray paints, simply knocking them in as he walked by.
Betraying how cautious he actually felt, Leonardo froze at the loud noise, glaring at his little brother over his shoulder. And he winced as Michelangelo walked into him.
"Dude, what the heck?" Michelangelo rubbed his forehead where he'd hit it on Leonardo's shell.
That's when Leonardo heard it.
Leonardo waved his hand, warning him to stay quiet. In front, Donatello turned and noticed that they'd stopped. At Leonardo's startled look, Donatello went silent, slowly reaching for the staff slung on his back.
What is it? Donatello mouthed.
Leonardo shook his head, straining to hear. He took a few steps forward, moving into the aisle, listening.
Scratches on tiles. Tapping points on concrete, then steel, then concrete again. Getting louder.
Much louder.
The tall shelves began to shake.