Whoa. This got a rather unexpected, but most pleasing turnout. I'm ecstatic! You guys have no idea how happy you make me when you review! Sometimes, it's the best thing that happens to me all day!

I'm sorry it took awhile, I was kinda upset about a few things goin' on in life. But Chapter Two is here now, so enjoy!

Disclaimer: I must have the wrong star. I keep on wishing on them, but I still don't own the TMNT!

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Oh no you don't! Raph clenched his teeth, trying to keep his car ahead of Mikey's as the two raced, via remote controls attached to the television. He had to admit, his little brother was getting seriously good at these video games… but not good enough to beat Raph.

Or so he hoped.

He really had no idea which game they were playing. Mikey had so many, one would think that even the fish in the ocean had been outnumbered. At least a quarter of those games had to do with cars.

They raced for what seemed like hours. Maybe they were, Raph wasn't sure, but finally, at nearly half past seven, Mikey won.

"Ha!" The orange-clad turtle stood up, alive with the rights to gloat and glee practically oozing from every pore of his body. "I win! That's Mikey: two, and Raph: zero!" That said, the youngest turtle began to do a victory dance resembling something like a mix of hip-hop and the hula.

With a growl, Raph put down the controller. "Two? We only played once-"

Mike stopped, grinning from ear to ear. "Well, duh. I knew that, Raphy! I'm talking about my awesome triumph against you here and at the Battle Nexus!"

Raph growled and clenched his fists. "That's it!" He shouted, proceeding to attack him.

Letting out at first a laugh, then a girlish scream, Mikey ran for the kitchen with his brother on his tail. Raph chased him to the table, where Mikey did a flip over the table and headed back out to the living room, making a bee line to Don's lab.

Although he had every intention of going in there and pummeling him, Raph paused, remembering the time, as well as the fact that Leo wasn't home yet.

For the fear of becoming like his elder brother in that matter, Raph tried not to worry. He decided to give Leo another ten minutes before calling him on the Shell Cell.

He headed into Don's lab slowly, no longer with any intention of beating up his braggart of a brother. Apparently, the purple-clad turtle had quickly understood why Mikey had come in here only moments before. The first thing he said to Raph without even turning from his latest interest, but with good cheer and not malice, was, "If you two break anything in here, you do understand you'll be cleaning it up?"

Smirking slightly, Raph shook his head, walking over to Donny. "Don't worry, bro. I ain't here to do any damage."

"Good luck trying to convince Mikey that those are your true intentions."

He thought about it for a minute before chuckling; he spoke low enough so only Don would hear him. "Now why would I do that? Let's let him squirm a little."

The purple-banded turtle turned back to his research, smiling at his brothers' antics.

Raph couldn't help but notice that, despite Donatello's present calm demeanor, he frequently looked at the time on the clock.

He wasn't sure why he was in here. He no longer had any desire to seek Michelangelo out, nor did he want to eavesdrop on whatever Don might be working on. Often, his engineer of a brother had some fantastic surprises waiting for them; and what fun would it be for Raph if they were ruined before they were unveiled?

The silence went on for awhile: as thick as a piece of butter ready to be cut with a knife, if only they were in the mood for it.

With a click, the door to the lair was opened, then shut. Steady, calm footsteps could be heard as their owner made his way into the living room. They paused there for a few seconds before heading closer to them.

It never ceased to amaze Raph how Leo could often so easily find them. It was an excellent talent that served him well in their profession as ninjas.

Leo poked his head into the door, making sure that they were there. When he saw Donny and Raph, he smiled and came in. "Mikey in here, too?"

Don nodded in the direction of a table with some interesting looking cloths on it before turning towards it completely. "Mikey, you can come out now. Raph's not planning on hurting you anymore, and I'm pretty sure that it's your turn to make dinner tonight."

Actually, nearly every night was Mike's turn to make dinner, from Tuesday to Thursday. On Mondays, Donny would put aside science and engineering long enough to make something nutritious, he was the only one who made sure they did so. Sunday was Raph's turn to cook. He wasn't too bad at it at all; he just didn't have the patience for it. Once a week was good enough.

The remaining two days of the week were pizza, fast food, and pizza days. Though it'd only seem fair to cancel out one of those to allow Leo to cook, all had unanimously agreed that Leo was not allowed to enter the kitchen unless it was to eat or get an eating implement. The only kitchen appliances the blue-banded turtle could manage, on his good days, were the toaster and the microwave.

Raph almost laughed, recalling a time when, in the days when he was alive, Splinter, ill, had asked Leonardo to make him some soup. Before the words had completely left his mouth, a twelve-year-old Mike had come bursting into the room, shouting, "For the love of God, Sensei, don't let him near the stove! Don't do it!"

Leo didn't really mind the fact that he wasn't such a good cook. At that time, as he did now, he let Mikey take over anything related to cooking without complaint. But since he'd never found it entirely fair that his brothers had all those jobs, he was the dishwasher more often than the rest of them.

Turning his attention back to the present, Raph carefully watched the spot where Mike was. His little brother didn't make a sound, but a small squeaking sound that was made when he moved confirmed that he'd heard him.

That was when Raph couldn't help getting a little even with him. "What? The Battle Nexus Champion is afraid of us inferior warriors, mainly the one he beat in one of the rounds? Leo, can you believe this?"

Ever since the events of eight months ago, the scar of depression, hurt, and early-robbed innocence was still very evident, but progressively healing as time went on. In fact, Leo was coming back to his old self; joking with the rest of them when he found the situation funny, as he clearly did now.

The said turtle smiled. "I know, Raph. Shocking, isn't it? I mean, even when we clearly don't stand a chance against his excellence, he refuses to fight us."

Don put away his stuff for the day, deciding to join in. "Perhaps he's just sparing us the humiliating defeat."

Finally, Mikey poked his head out, mostly amused, but partly piqued. "Ah, yes. I am rather superior, aren't I? Keep it up you guys, and I'll be the only one having shrimp tonight."

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When dinner was finally made, it was most delicious. It was served with angel hair pasta and garlic bread; Leo was barely able to finish it.

Like with Donny and his medical supplies, no one was quite sure how Mike had been able to get his hands on these eats, as well as many others, but no one really cared to know. It was probable that a good deal of it came from April, but not all of it could have. And no one could imagine seeing Casey in a shopping center with enough patience to find the food, much less purchase it.

There were quite a few cashiers that Casey didn't get along with. He often thought they were overcharging him. Sometimes they were, but usually; he'd just forgotten to include the tax when totaling up the final purchase.

Dinner had gone excellent; all had enjoyed. And that happiness of a full stomach wasn't limited to the turtles, since Klunk had also found the need to dine with them, jumping on the table and sampling one or more shrimp from each plate before anyone could stop him.

And when one was filled, they often were ready to head upstairs for an anticipated fiesta. As Leo headed upstairs to do so, saying night to Mike, who would surely be asleep before his movie even started, and Don on his way, he heard something on the news.

-there has been an increased amount of gang activity from the Diamondbacks in the past few months. Although they are mostly minor offenses compared to many other gangs, anything civilians may see should be reported at once-

The Diamondbacks were a new gang on the streets; most, if not all of them, were under the age of nineteen. Leo and his brothers had actually had a run in with them before; the very night, in fact, that Leo had recovered his lost memory.

Mostly, the gang kept to a few certain crimes. They liked to put up graffiti, rob convenience stores and gas stations, deface tombstones, and make a big scene about how they could kill anyone they wanted, though they had yet to do so, even when they tried.

Nevertheless, it was about time someone gave them a hard time.

The small gang forgotten almost instantly, Leo began to dread what he'd surely see as he entered his room. It was always there, so it'd be a surprise if it were suddenly gone. He'd actually be quite depressed if it was gone, but he found that unlikely.

Sure enough, the first thing he noticed was Splinter's unopened letter to him, taped to the wall. He walked over to his bed and reached across it, taking the envelope off the wall.

"Ya gonna open it?" Raph's voice sounded from the doorway.

Leo turned slightly, so he could see him, before sighing and shaking his head. "No. Not tonight. I was thinking about it… but I don't really feel like it."

Raph walked in a few steps. "How come? He might have had something important to tell ya-"

"That's what I'm afraid of." Leo said as he taped it back on the wall.

Shaking his head, Raph started, "Look, bro, he might have-" but changed his mind, a hard thing for him to do sometimes; "All right. But Leo, you gotta open it sometime."

Leo just nodded and said goodnight. When Raph was gone, Leo looked at the floor for a few minutes, thinking. Finally, he sighed; moved. Switching off the lights, Leo made his way back blindly, but gracefully to his bed.

Stretching his body out across it, Leo stared at the ceiling, thinking about Splinter, Logan, his brothers, and anything else that came to mind, including all the children's stories he could think of; from Rumpelstilskin to Jack and the Beanstalk.

Everything was confusing, but he tried not to think about it. He couldn't help it though. Ever since he could remember, he had always thought about something, and most of the time, they weren't overly joyful.

But like how those things had done at times when he was young through this point in time, they eventually ceased, allowing the insomnia to subside, and let him descend into the much-needed sleep.

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So, how was that?

Hey, has anyone ever noticed that almost everybody has this idea that Leo is a bad cook, thought, for me at least, it has yet to be proven?

I actually don't mind. It's just one more thing I can have in common with him. I'm a horrid cook; didn't get my Mom, or my Dad's, talent. I can make anything if it involves just a microwave or a toaster (man, can I make a good cheese sandwich and Ramen Noodles!), but don't expect anything good from my hands and a frying pan/oven/stove. My cookies always come out too gooey, unless they're premade. It's a shame; I love cookies.

Anyways, I hoped you liked this chapter! Please R&R!