Part 2

Coordinating meetings could be impossible when the ones trying to meet were ninja. Humans could say they would meet up at some large, conspicuous landmark—a statue or tree that everyone could see. But "the shadowy alley" behind the "run down shop" made things more confusing than a meeting was worth. So Donatello brought his laptop into the living room to work and Michelangelo stayed up playing video games with Raphael, waiting for their brother to come home.

"Turn it down," Donatello whispered, pausing as he typed. "Master Splinter's trying to sleep."

Michelangelo reached one hand out and hit the remote, lowering the volume, then returned to the game. Beside him, Raphael nudged him hard, trying to throw him off balance.

"This game ain't fair," Raphael muttered. "How the hell you take your hand off the control and you're still beating me?"

"Pure skill," Michelangelo whispered, nudging him back. "I got the moves, aw yeah."

"It's called being a savant," Donatello said. "That's the only explanation."

They lapsed back into silence. Around them, the lair created sounds they normally didn't hear over their own ruckus. The pipes muffled a rush of water overhead, and Donatello's generators hummed in the corner, running the fans and air conditioning that kept the lair cool. The refrigerator kicked on and the water heater began rumbling its usual cycle.

"Yo," Michelangelo called out. "What time is it?"

"Five," Donatello said. "More or less."

"And when will Leo get here?"

"I told you, Mikey, I don't—"

The familiar sound of stone sliding on stone made them all stop. The only way in, a fake brick wall requiring that several bricks be pressed in the right order, warned them that someone was coming.

Michelangelo paused the game as Raphael stood, but Donatello was the one already heading to the door just as it opened. Tired, head slightly down, eyes dark, their brother walked in, nudging the door shut with his elbow.

"Thanks," Leonardo said, dropping a small messenger bag on the floor. "Didn't expect to see the lights on."

"You're home!"

Michelangelo leaped over the couch, raced up the steps and got to Leonardo just as Donatello did, sweeping them both up into a huge bear hug. Donatello bore it patiently as he held his brother, and Leonardo winced as Michelangelo pressed against bruises he didn't know about.

"What took you so long?" Michelangelo said. "Did you get me anything?"

"Sorry," Leonardo said with a tired smile. "One hitman turned into three. But yeah—here."

Michelangelo crowed as Leonardo gave him a handful of lollipops. Without looking, he popped one out of its wrapper and stuck it in his mouth.

"Sweet!"

He raced back to show Raphael, who glanced indulgently at the candies. And then broke into a grin.

"Bro'," Raphael snickered, "did you look at that before you ate it?"

His brow furrowing, Michelangelo looked down at the wrapper.

"Tequila scorpion candy?" He pulled out the lollipop and squinted at it. "Oh wow...check it out! There's a little scorpion dude inside! Cool!"

"So," Donatello said, walking with his brother to the kitchen. "Did you eat something on the way?"

"Yeah, actually," Leonardo said as he sat at the table. "We passed a few diners on the way here. But I'd kill for a real cup of tea before I crash."

"Coming right up," Donatello said. "And then you can tell us all about your road trip."

"Not much to tell," Leonardo said, nodding at Raphael as he joined them. "I had to chase the first guy all the way to Phoenix. He kept changing trains. I almost lost him twice."

"But you got him." Raphael twirled a seat backward and plopped down. "And then what?"

"He left his laptop open," Leonardo said. "I got to see his emails, and I found out that just killing off a hit man doesn't get rid of the hit. Plus I guess he'd called for help, 'cause that's when I had to deal with his partner."

"That was the sniper you told us about?" Raphael asked.

Leonardo motioned at a new scar on his shoulder that included a nick on his shell.

"Yeah. She left me that."

"Ooh, that looks like it stung," Raphael said, running his finger along the nick to make sure the shell wasn't cracking further. "And then?"

"Found the third guy starting out in El Paso. He started heading up on one track, then came back down to Houston. I finally tagged him in Richmond last night."

"He took that long to find?" Raphael asked. "You got the first two so quick."

"The first two were easy," Leonardo said. "I kinda stumbled on the second one. But I had to find the third guy, and then I had to keep up with him. That trick with changing trains? That one almost got me. It's hard as hell to follow someone when you can't really move during the day."

The tea kettle whistled. A moment later, Donatello brought out a tray of four cups with tea bags trailing strings off the side. Leonardo took his and pulled it close, sighing as he cupped his hands around it.

"Oh man..." He let his head fall slightly. "It's been nothing but cold rain all the way back."

Raphael put his hand on his brother's arm.

"You'll make morning practice, though, right?"

Leonardo glared at him, narrowing his eyes as Raphael snickered.

"No practice," came Splinter's voice from the living room. "We can all take the day off tomorrow...ah, today."

Leonardo started to rise, then relaxed as Splinter waved a hand, motioning him back down. With a long sigh of relief, Splinter sat at the table, flipping his tail out of the way as Michelangelo ran past them, grabbing a soda from the refrigerator.

"Sorry," Leonardo said. "I didn't mean to wake you—"

"That honor would go to Michelangelo," Splinter chuckled, "if I had been asleep. I am relieved to see you back home."

"It's nice to be back home," Leonardo said. "I'm sick of trains."

"At least you were not forced to stow away on an airplane," Splinter said. "Now to the reason why you left in the first place. You are certain that Miss O'Neil is safe?"

Leonardo nodded once. "Yes, master. The price on her head has been removed. Did she already sell that Mayan thing?"

"Olmec," Donatello corrected over his tea. "And yeah, she said that it was bought like two minutes after she put it up for sale. She even recorded herself boxing it up and then Mikey went and left it in a post office box."

"Good." Leonardo relaxed, really relaxed for the first time in months, and he finally tasted his tea. And blinked. Honey?

"I remembered," Donatello said with a knowing smile.

"Thanks," Leonardo said. "Haven't had anything decent for months, either."

"You up for breakfast?" Michelangelo said around a yawn, leaning in from the kitchen. "It's a bit early, but I could get it going."

"Nah." Leonardo shook his head, tilting his tea cup. "Gonna finish this, then head up to bed. And finally sleep."

"See," Raphael said, pointing his finger at him. "This is why you should've waited for me. Sucks when you don't have someone to stand watch at night."

"It does," Leonardo said. "I wish you had come. Maybe next time, if you keep up with me and get on the train before it leaves the station."

"Next time," Raphael said as he glared over his shoulder, "Mikey won't barrel into me and knock me flat on the platform. Right, Mikey?"

"Huh?" Michelangelo said from the kitchen. "I can't hear you. There's this obnoxious bug flying around in here drowning everything out."

"Excuse me," Raphael said, getting up for the kitchen. "I gotta go swat a bug."

A moment later, however, Raphael came back carting out Michelangelo piggyback, exchanging a long suffering sigh with the rest of the family as his little brother snored on his shell.

"Okay, it's past this monster's bed time," Raphael said. "And mine too, if I'm being honest. I'll see you in the morning, fearless."

"Yeah," Leonardo said. "Just make sure you put him down gently."

"I'll just chuck 'im," Raphael said as he walked by. "Make sure he lands on his head. Won't hit nothing important."

"I shall do likewise," Splinter said, rising. "Going to bed, I mean, not throwing Michelangelo. Do not feel you need to rise early, my son. You have more than earned a rest."

Leonardo ducked his head, glancing at the floor. "Thank you, master."

He was silent as Splinter left, waiting to hear the soft click of the door shutting before turning to Donatello.

"So what was up with the thing April had?" Leonardo asked in a quiet murmur. "Why'd someone want her killed over it?"

Donatello half-shrugged. "The antiquities collector's market can be cut throat. An Olmec rubber ball with a skull inside it? Rare as hell. I'm surprised that whoever hired out the hit didn't just hire a thief instead."

"I'm not surprised," Leonardo said. "'Least not anymore. Did you know that having something stolen is a lot more expensive than just killing the owner? Less work."

"Huh. Nasty."

Donatello glanced up toward Michelangelo's room to make sure Raphael wasn't coming back down, then one more time at Splinter's room. Once he was absolutely certain they were alone, he took another sip of tea.

"So, this laptop you mentioned," Donatello started.

"You didn't tell anyone," Leonardo whispered, eyes widening.

"Relax," Donatello said. "You said not to, and I haven't. Do you still have it?"

Leonardo rose and gathered his bag from the door where he had so casually dropped it. If he had protected it, Michelangelo would have hounded him like a puppy after dog treats, and Raphael would have been right on his heels. It had been a risk, leaving it alone like that, but the risk had paid off. He set the bag down on the table, about to draw it open, when Donatello covered his hand with his own.

"Not here," Donatello said. "My lab. Come on."

Leonardo hastily finished his tea and followed him, closing the door behind himself.

Donatello's laboratory was usually off limits to everyone, not because he had dangerous chemicals but because one wrong step could send an experiment tottering off a crowded bench or desk. Michelangelo had been banished long ago and now only dared peek his head in. Leonardo rarely set foot inside unless invited, and even then he used every sense to avoid accidentally knocking against something. Only Raphael moved in and out easily, and then just to reach the garage to work on his motorcycle.

Donatello swept away several tools into a toolbox and picked up a handful of notepads and folders, clearing a space that Leonardo realized as a workbench buried under a mountain of motor parts. As Donatello motioned to the empty spot, Leonardo pulled open his bag and set the laptop down.

"I changed the password to get into it," he said. "It's just 'open' right now."

"I'm surprised it let you use that," Donatello said, sitting down to the open screen. "Usually passwords have to fulfill certain requirements. How'd you manage to crack it?"

"I didn't have to." Leonardo stood behind him, looking over his shoulder. "I couldn't get into it after I killed the first guy, so I took it with me and then left it in the hotel room with the second one. She knew the password, and I took her out after I saw her enter it."

"Nice." Donatello turned and opened the bag, sliding his hand around inside until he found something at the bottom. "Here we go. This was plugged into it before, wasn't it?"

"That? Yeah." Leonardo watched him plug it into the side port, and suddenly a new screen popped up. "What is it?"

"This," Donatello grinned, "is what's called a dongle. It's a bit of hardware that you have to have in before it'll let you run anything, usually programs but this one looks like it leads to a randomized address. I'll have to look to be sure, but I'll bet anything this is a gateway into a deep site."

He looked up at his brother expectantly, only to be met with a confused head tilt.

"Right," Donatello said with a sigh. "Think of it this way. On the internet, there are websites way deep down where google can't find it. This lets me see one site and get in."

"Oh!" Leonardo leaned down to get a better look. "This was the site where I posted all the pictures of the dead guys so everyone backed off the hit."

Donatello looked at the messages his brother had left, grimacing at the photographs of the bodies. He recognized the first one from when they had chased him away from April. Compared to the one with the top of her head missing and the other with his head nearly off, the first one was easiest to recognize with a simple sword thrust through the heart.

"Doesn't look like they get many comments," Donatello said softly, scrolling through the site. "It's kinda like any old forum, except all the posts are about hired contracts."

"Not just killing," Leonardo said. "If you scroll up, there's other sections for jobs. Stealing, kidnapping, smuggling."

"A regular wretched hive of scum and villainy," Donatello said. "So this is how you knew they'd called off the hit?"

"Yup." Leonardo sighed and stood up, rotating a stiff shoulder. "I didn't know what to do with it, but I knew it was probably important, so..."

"You brought it to me." Donatello turned in his chair to face him. "I'll give this a look, see what there is to see. But only on one condition."

Leonardo rubbed at one eye, stifling a yawn. "Sure, whatever you want."

"How come you didn't want Mikey or Raph to see this? You made sure no one else even knows about it."

Leonardo looked down at the screen and the photos of the dead hit men. He didn't regret their deaths. April's life had been in danger over a stupid old ball and some collector was willing to kill for it. Leonardo had simply killed before they could. And yet...

"It's just." Leonardo said. "I mean, look at it. Killing in the heat of a fight is one thing, but then taking photos? I didn't want Mikey to see how..."

"Just how methodical big bro' is at killing?" Donatello said. He glanced back at the screen. "It really is kinda dirty, isn't it? When it's so businesslike."

"I wish at least one of you had come with me," Leonardo said, staring at the screen. "Raph was right. I should've waited for him to catch up."

"And let the bad guy get away?" Donatello said. "No. I just wish we'd been faster so you didn't have to go alone. I hated you not being here."

Leonardo sighed wearily but smiled through his exhaustion.

"I missed you," he whispered.

Donatello stood, holding his arm out so that Leonardo could step close, folding into his embrace. They stood together for a long moment, Leonardo tucking against Donatello's throat as his brother's hand swept up behind his shell, rubbing warm circles against the back of his neck.

"I missed this," Leonardo whispered.

"Same here," Donatello said, nuzzling his cheek. "Call more often next time."

"Sure."

Donatello smiled, satisfied at simply holding his brother again after four months separation. The new scar added another line to memorize and worry over, another time that his lightning brother hadn't moved fast enough. The feel of his sibling's breath on his neck, the sound of his soft breathing, made the worry finally slip away.

He chuckled. Breathing that was too regular and steady. Giving his brother a nudge, he forced him to stand straight again.

"You're gonna fall asleep on your feet," he said. "Go to bed."

"Yeah," Leonardo said, forcing himself to head out. "Didn't think I was that bad, but I guess the tea helped."

"And the pain killer I slipped into it," Donatello said. "You want me to join you later?"

"Sounds good." Leonardo stood in the doorway looking back at him. "I might not wake up, though."

"S'fine. I've missed you beside me."

"Same here."

Leonardo left him, heading to his room to find new sheets on his futon and the candle burning low. He smiled. Michelangelo liked to act out being a kind of Suzy Homemaker, but the little touches made it worthwhile. Glad he'd managed to bring home a souvenir for his little brother, he undid his belt and sheaths, letting his katana slip off for the first time in four months. His shell felt lighter as he collapsed into the futon, curling up with the pillow.

He drowsed at first, sleep coming slowly now that he was accustomed to resting lightly. After what felt like moments, the sheet and blanket were properly arranged on him and the light was blown out. The footsteps sounded like Raphael, but all of his senses felt blurred by then.

It seemed like he'd just closed his eyes when someone shifted into bed behind him, pressing close. An arm fell across his waist and a whisper sent him back to sleep.

Proper sleep. Now that his body felt someone close, he drifted into a deep slumber as he allowed himself to completely drop his guard. It was a vulnerability he couldn't allow himself out on his own, but in the arms of his brother, it came naturally, followed by fragmented dreams of trains, soft rain and tea.