The Smell of Apples


Chapter 1


The lair was filled with the song of mechanics. It was a hum that threaded itself through the very core of their home, twisted around the pipes, working its way into their rooms, humming from the lights above their heads. Reminiscent of the old power station that it used to be, the old ghosts of electricity seemed to be alive. Their family had yet to cement their presence to these walls, and sometimes, the thought could make your hairs stand on edge. But only sometimes, because one day soon, the lair would feel like home. It always did, eventually, no matter how many times they moved, nomads in their own city.

Leonardo could barely feel his body. He was weightless, barely in existence, but infinitely in tune to the world simultaneously. The aches from training, the tension in his spine, had melted away to leave only a perfect serenity. His mind was the only thing that remained in his focus, and it was perfectly clear, open to the experience of the universe. A supreme state of clarity that had taken years of training to achieve resided over his mind and body. It was a clarity that had almost shattered forever in the recent months, but thanks to the Ancient one's training, he had regained it, and would be forever greatful. The rise and fall of his breathing moved in time with the smoke that rose into the gloom, tendrils wrapping around him.

The lair was full of a stillness that was never truly still. It was full of a peace interlaced with footsteps and that humming, which never ceased. It was like the hum of the New York people, of the very city. The city which never sleeps, the city which is always humming, always alive with something. One got used to it. One noticed when that something was missing. But it had never stopped before.

When the hum of the lair stopped, so did the fragile peace which had descended over his mind. This was not a blackout to find annoyance over. Everything has ceased, and that meant that, for the moment, they were defenceless. Leonardo did not open his eyes. Focus is the key to understanding one's surroundings. His muscles twitched with tension, and all of a sudden, he was very aware of his body, aware of the sudden stillness that had descended over the lair like a black fog. The muscles in his jaw ached, and he relaxed them. For a moment, there was no sound, and all was still. Then the voices of his brothers rang out through the lair, sounds of confusion and distress, and Leonardo had no more time to think.

Energy surged through his muscled and he jumped to his feet, eyes opening. Twisting the doorknob in his hand, he was struck by how very cold everything was. The ice seemed to have worked its way into the very cracks of the lair in a matter of seconds. It swirled at his feet, like an angry frost nipping at his heels, sending a shiver down his spine. Every sense on the alert, he wrenched open the door, and leapt down the stairs, moving on hunters feet through the sudden blackness of the lair. Everything was dark. Even for ninjas trained in the sacred arts, this blackness was thick and impenetrable, and Leo realized he had never taken note of how very black the power station was, when all the power was gone.

His heart surged with worry, his breath coming in silent puffs of air as he slid down the darkness and came to a stop. His hand rose to grasp the hilt of his blade, but he made no move to draw it. In the darkness, it was hard to tell friend from foe. One had to be still. He knew the sound of his brother's footfalls; he knew the sound of their movements. There was no reason to act rashly. They were defenceless, but there was no evidence of intruders, no sign of attack. But without the power, Donatello's defences would be rendered useless, and Leonardo was not one to leave things up to chance. He had no way of judging his brother's voices from before. They too, had fallen silent, well trained in stealth, judging, like him, that there was something dangerous about tonight. Or was it something more sinister?

Leonardo tensed. He steadied himself and took stock of his surroundings. Judging by how far he'd come, he was near to the bathroom. Tension prickled down his neck. The lair was huge, and they had not settled in long enough for the familiar routes to be easily traced in the dark. Having not seen his brothers since dinner, he had no way of knowing where they'd be. It could be assumed that Donatello was in his lab, but as for Mikey and Raph?

Lowering his hand from his katana, Leo made to move forward, but at the creaking of a poorly oiled door stopped him in his tracks. His blade was out in a second, whistling through the air, a song of death and beauty. His tensions were shattered at the muffled curse that drifted through the night, so low one mightn't have heard it. But tonight, Leo heard everything, senses heightened by the tension in his veins.

There was no mistaking it. A guarded kind of relief flooded his skin and he whispered, on a breath of wind, the quiet question, "Raphael?"


In the bathroom, the door firmly shutting out the world, Raphael stood beneath the shower. The water hit his shell, tracing down his plastron. It was soothing, the steam which poured from the opening of the shower, cleaning away the grit and grime of the day, the darkness that seeped into his very skin. He turned the water up harder and leaned back against the shower tiles, letting the tensions wash out of him. It had been a long day. A really long day. He let out a soft sigh.

Sensei was on a trip to Japan, the Ancient one had requested his help in training a new student, and things had been real quiet since finding the new lair. There hadn't seemed a reason for him to object. Didn't mean trainin' took a break...Leo made sure of that, leading every training session since. At least Sensei didn't act like he had something to prove every damn training lesson, didn't work their arses into the ground. Well, he did, but not like this. Leo had been a real prick at training. Raph was still sore about that, quite literally, and he didn't intend on leaving the shower anytime soon.

Mind elsewhere, he never heard it when the humming of electricity died, the hush of lonely air beneath the sewers and nothing else. It was only moments later, did everything seem to change. The lights flickered and died. Moments later the water stopped, as if the very power pumping it to the shower had stopped completely.

It happened so suddenly, without warning, and Raph didn't have the time to feel anything but anger at his interrupted shower "What the fuck?!" Growling in annoyance, Raphael grabbed a towel, wrapping it over his shoulders, the muscles bunched with tension. Fuck it, probably Donnie messin' with somethin', or Leo makin' toast. He did not need this after the day he'd had.

From somewhere in the lair he heard Mikey and Don's voices. Shit, they were really loud, he realized, brow furrowing heavily. It was then he realized the silence wasn't normal. There was something too quiet, and his brothers had been too loud, and now they were silent. If anyone was in the lair it wouldn't be hard to find them. The thought made his skin prickle with nerves and displeasure. Maybe he should have kept a little more quiet himself. Bracing himself against the counter, it took him a moment to realize he hadn't heard Leo. Either he was showing off with that perfect control of his, or something had happened to him. What about Don and Mikey? He hadn't heard them again either.

Panic worming its way into his heart, though he was unsure why. He moved forward swiftly, finding his way to the door, trailing his hands silently on the walls. He grabbed his gear and strapped it to himself, drying himself only enough to keep from being detected. Tossing the towel aside, he wrenched the door open, grimacing unhappily as it let out a creek. In the deathly silence, it might as well have been a foghorn for all the good it did at keeping them stealthy.

He cursed, and then grit his teeth. Goddamn, Leo would have a field day over his stealth today. Ain't exactly up to form.

No sooner had the curse left his lips, did he hear it. It was a sound they'd all learned to know well, the song of a blade. The sound of a sword being drawn from its sheath, the sound of death whistling through the air, moving with the wind and slicing the very atmosphere in two. Every blade had a different song, some of revenge, some of honour, of beauty and destruction. He knew this, Kami, they all did. Leo harped on about it enough during training. He knew he was right. He'd heard it firsthand.

Hands flying to his belt, they wrapped around the hilts of his Sais.

"Raphael?"

He tensed in fright, and snarled silently at his brother catching him off guard. Letting go of his Sais he muttered, "Kami, Leo, warn a guy, eh?" His voice was low, but he felt relief pool in his stomach, so intense it made him unsteady for a moment. Ok, so Leo was just being a control freak before, but he was safe. He could deal with an uptight brother, not a savagely injured or dead one. He wasn't playing Mr. Intensity either anymore- always a good thing. Taking a step forward, he was able to judge his brother's position. Leo was standing still- no use in two people fumbling and passing each other. Raph felt him reach out and wrap his hand around his wrist the moment he was in range. His grip was stronger than usual, as if he was worried about losing him in the dark.

"Y'know, I ain't goin' nowhere, Leo." There was a smirk in his voice, but he didn't pull away, and that was all the answer Leo needed.

There was a moment where he suspected Leo nodded in that stoic way of his, before realising it was too dark. He almost sniggered. Aww, great, I'm gettin' hysterical.

"Do you know where Mikey is?" Leo's voice was terse as he found a railing, "Stairs." He murmured by way of warning.

"Said he was gonna game or some shit." They made their way on hunters' feet down into the main area of the lair. Raph hated this part right now. It was all space and no way to judge the edges. He was in no mood to plummet several feet down in the bloody dark, thank you very much. He had the messed up sensation of descending into the icy bowels of hell. He hated the cold, and right now it seemed to swirl around them like a mist and make everything ten times more ominous. He tightened his free hand around his sai, and realized that he had not heard his brother sheath his sword. Leo was still on edge.

"So the lounge." There was purpose in Leo's voice, and for once, Raph went along with it. Squinting, he thought he saw it through the gloom, some kind of light. He stopped, pulling Leo up short. He felt his brother tense, and the shift in his posture.

"See it?"

Leonardo tightened his grip on his brother's wrist in response, and Raphael had the sudden feeling that this new lair was unnerving to everyone. It made a simple power outage seem like an attack. But the Foot had found their last home, this one could still be a target. The thought made Raph tense up, tightening his grip on his sai until it was painful.

The lair was so damn big that it took several moments to get close enough to the light to get a good look. Donnie's work station. Raphael felt the tension go out of him in a rush. Of course Donnie would have some kind of light with him. It looked to be a lantern of some sort. Donnie stood, trying his best to attach it to the beams above his work station. He'd yet to develop a fully functional lab. Might have come in handy now.

At the sound of their footsteps, he sprung to attention, grasping his Bo staff and twirling it in front of him. Tension was pliable but, as Leo and Raph stepped into the light, so was Donnie's relief. Beside him, Mikey sprung up. He was pale, and his blue eyes looked suddenly too big for him and Raph felt a sudden surge of sympathy.

"Donnie- what the fuck happened!?" His voice came out rougher than he expected and he chalked it up to being quiet for so long. He grabbed the platform and pulled himself up to Donnie's work station. Leonardo has let go of his wrist and sheathed his sword. He vaulted up beside Raph, eyes full of intensity, viewing Don in the same expectant manner as Raphael.

"I'm not sure." Donatello furrowed his brow, pulling up his desk chair, "I was working on some research when my computer crashed. The generator doesn't seem to be up and running either, and nothing in the electrical box seems to have tripped." Beside him, Mikey shrugged, "I didn't do anything. I was gaming- I lost my high score!" He chucked softly, but his humour seemed a pale attempt to hide his fear, and Raph remembered how very much Mikey hated the dark. Leo seemed to remember to, because instead of chiding the youngest, he rested a hand on Mikey's shoulder as he furrowed his brow, "And I assume you have had no time to check the mains?" He sighed and looked into the gloom, the dark tunnels that lead into the sewers with a measure of reluctance. Raphael could practically see the gears of his mind, weighing strategic risk.

"Dis is bullshit." He muttered. He couldn't fight the dark and make things right, and unless him and Donnie found the mains, he wouldn't be able to help with that either. If there was one thing Raphael despised, it was the feeling of crushing helplessness that threatened to drown him now. He folded his arms, tension rippling through his muscles.

As Leonardo opened his mouth to answer, the silence was interupted. It shattered into a million pieces, falling to the floor with a clatter, with the sound of intruders. The only weapon against the darkness was the weak light that hung above them. And in the darkness, they heard scuffling, they heard movement, they heard what they already new.

They were not alone, and someone was watching.


A/N: Decided to try my hand at a chaptered fic again- it has been a while! The title is from an existing Novel, based on South African History. I used it for the metaphoric meaning, and not the literal one. If you enjoyed this, please review, they do motivate me through busy patches. Thank you for reading.