IX. Wake

After 18 months, 18 days and 18 hours, Mike came back.

Leo kept an eye on the antique Felix the Cat clock in April's back hall, feeling superstitious. He waited for the ticking paw to strike the 18th minute, half-expecting a burst of doors shattering in through their frames and the explosions of glass and bullets and lives.

But nothing worse happened than April sending him a look of pity as he stood by the back window, polishing his swords.

"I'm proud of you for being here," she told him, pausing in the dark rear hall to set a pumpkin pie out to cool. "He's glad you're here, too, you know. We all are. Just let me know if you need anything."

"I'm fine," he said, as she headed back toward the warmth and laughter of the kitchen – laughter growing less forced as the hours passed. "I'd only ruin everybody's fun."

She stopped, almost to the doorway, and turned back to him. "Leo," she said, "it doesn't have to be this way."

"I'm not going to get into this argument, April," he told her. "I'm sorry. Gomen nasai."

He'd been through it before, with her and with Don, the only ones who had dared to keep bringing Mike up. But Don hadn't done so in more than a year. Shadow ignored Leo, as she had except for a few hot insults since the night Mike went away. Raph and Casey pretended nothing changed, but all through their joking and training and movie watching and projects, there lurked an absence in their eyes that frustrated him to the core.

And so it was only April who still challenged him openly, now and again, prodding him to read Mike's letters or to reach out and send one of his own.

"It would be the same as telling him to come home," Leo kept explaining, patient only because his respect for her was more deep-seated, even, than his anger. "He chose to make it so that can never be."

And yet, here Mike was. Making Christmas dinner. Tousle-haired, light-talking, quick and half the time caught in a laugh, moving as easily around the kitchen as if he'd never gone away.

And also...

Sounding different. His voice had softened, holding less resonance without the shell to bounce against.

Smelling different. Thinner skin and fresh-washed hair overpowered the sweat-tang Leo had forever known.

And bearing more than food and presents this holiday.

Mike carried on his heels capture, torture, death.

Why couldn't anyone else see?

Leo exhaled sharply. He knew the answer. None of the others of his family had fallen into ambush the way he once had. None of them had been dragged, broken, leaving a trail of blood for their enemies, the Foot Clan, to trod into the dirty snow, as he had that endless Christmas night.

He still remembered how it felt to slowly realize, through a haze of pain, where those enemies were taking him. He remembered understanding, suddenly, that the Foot knew exactly where to strike where it would hurt the hardest – without even touching his already-ravaged body. They would strike the place Leo had left just an hour before they found him, with its strung lights and its busy kitchen and the promise of presents under the tree, and the five beings most dear to him in all the universe gathered, innocent of the destruction about to be wreaked. He remembered becoming air-borne, knowing even as he crashed through the glass of April's window that nothing he could do would save them, now.

None of his family knew what such guilt felt like. None of them should ever know that violation of peace. Yet Mike's every decision laid them bare to such horrors.

The worst part was, from the moment Mike had gone off to those scientists, Leo was helpless again. Nothing he did could truly protect any of his family, much less Mike himself.

If those scientists hurt his brother or held him captive or sold him to the government or black-market dealers... If something went wrong with the process – and hadn't April hinted that something actually had?... If the doctors ever let slip what they'd done... Mike, unprotected in the weakened human form he chose, would have no one to fight alongside or to back him up, and no one, should the worst come to pass, to die with.

Because Leo could do nothing to help Mike without risking the rest of the people he loved. Mike had forced his brother to have to make that choice. At least cutting their ties kept the danger at arm's length. If only April and the others would give in and relocate someplace safe!

Mike wasn't holding up his end of the bargain: to disappear and at least try to protect the rest of the family. Leo's fingers pinched the oiled chamois strip, as another shout of not-quite-familiar laughter from the kitchen grated through his system.

A shadow fell on the window. He wheeled, the tip of his katana chipping the pane.

Outside, Raphael dropped to the chill steel landing of the fire escape, then stepped forward and pushed his palms against the glass, shoving the window up.

"You gonna put that thing away?" Raph asked, brow raised, and leapt indoors, shaking already-melting snow off his feet. "Man, it smells good in here. Pumpkin, huh?"

Raph stuck a finger in the hot, thick pie, and brought it to his mouth, just as Mike stepped into the hall. "Thought you'd be doing that," Mike said. "Some things never cha-"

Leo shut the window behind himself and moved swiftly up the fire escape stairs. Climbing into the fog.

When he reached the rooftop, he found Mike waiting.

"So that's what it's all been about, huh?" the former Turtle said. "Geeze, Leo. You've been carrying that kind of fear around all this time?"

Leo tightened his grip on his swords, scanning for enemies in the wintry mists. "How did you get up here so quickly?" he demanded.

Mike shook his head. "Come on, Leo. Wakey, wakey. We're not actually on this roof. I can't believe I'm getting the hang of this dream thing before you..."

Leo hesitated.

Bending down, Mike lifted a handful of the snow. It ran from his fingers as water, leaving a dirty green stain on the slushy roof. Mike looked back up. "Remember?" he asked.

Leo shuddered, too much coming back, too fast.

"The Adversary," he whispered.

"Yeah... He wants me to stab you in the back out here or something, make his job a little easier."

Leo raised a brow. "Well?"

Mike tensed. "Come on, Leo! You can't actually think I'd want to hurt you!"

Leo bowed his head, trying to recalibrate himself. He moved to the edge of the roof, searching for a way out. "Then how do we get back?"

"Haven't figured that out, yet." Mike paced a little, forcing his shoulders to come down and the angry boil of his heart to subside. Tilting his head, Mike looked thoughtfully at his brother. "But, I think I understand something else, now."

"And that is?" Leo asked the alley.

"The Adversary said you were performing all this time. That's it, isn't it? That's the thing the false voice said that's actually true. You don't want me dead. You just...want to keep us all safe."

His brother turned slowly.

"Want you dead?" he echoed.

"Yeah..." Mike watched nervously, as his brother stared. "I mean...that is...unless you actually do."

Leo closed his eyes. "Why," he said, his voice haggard, "did you make me have to choose who'd die?"

Mike blinked. "Leo..."

His brother turned away, expression desolate.

"You don't have to protect us," Mike said to his back. "I know you told Splinter you would – "

"I vowed," Leo hissed.

"But we're all grown-ups, bro. Seriously, Leo. What is it, making you fight me so hard?"

The blades trembled above the snow, reflecting the dark green current of a river. Leo slid his katana back into their sheathes and looked out on the City.

"Who am I without you?" Leo asked in a miserable voice.

He turned back, his eyes truly meeting Mike's for the first time since his brother became human. Mike felt his breath catch at the raw loneliness in Leo's eyes. He knew that anguish. He knew that pain. His heart rushed for forward.

The fog closed on them. Mike fought against it, grasping for Leo, struggling to reach his brother and still hold on to himself.

He found Splinter's cool hands between his clutching, three-fingered ones. A single candle lit the darkness of the master's room. Clouds obscured both moon and stars outside, and no snow had yet fallen to brighten the chilly, leaf-scattered farmhouse lawn and hills.

Mike sat up as his sensei's breathing changed. He watched the flame's reflections in the pools of Splinter's eyes as they opened. "Master?" he asked, voice hoarse with long watching and worry.

"Michael..." his sensei said. "I asked for you..."

"Yes." Mike shifted uncomfortably. "Don let me know."

But when he'd come in, alone at his sensei's request, Splinter had already fallen asleep. For a horrible moment, Mike had thought he was too late. The idea seemed almost silly, now, watching the brightness in his adopted father's eyes and listening to the warmth in his voice. Of course this strange weakness would pass. Of course their sensei would grow hale again, and grouch at their attentions, and fully recover.

"I have loved watching you grow," Splinter told him. "You have such gifts."

Mike snagged a cloth from the bedside and leaned over to wipe, carefully, when his master coughed.

"But you are ready, now, for more. You've been ready for some time. You must – " he coughed again, brushed away Mike's hand. "You must find the way to share yourself, and those gifts, or I have truly failed."

"No, master! No way could you fail."

"Ah." The frail hand squeezed, softly. "You are too kind, my son."

"But...sensei, I don't understand. What is it you want me to share?"

Splinter's eyes widened. He turned his head to stare at him. "Yourself!" he barked. "Your skills, your dreams. You are wilting like a tree in a too-small pot, Michaelangelo. Trust yourself to find the next size up, and the next, or you will never grow high enough to brush the heavens!"

The coughing lasted so long Mike nearly called his brothers in panic. But Splinter caught his arm and ordered against it.

And Splinter was, even now, master.

"What are you saying?" Mike said finally, when the room was quiet.

"We," Splinter whispered, "are not enough for you. And each of you must find your own paths, now."

Mike shook his head, fiercely. "You're all I want. You, an' Don-n-Raph-n-Leo, and April and Casey and Shad. You're my family, master! Don't...don't send me away."

But something in his heart began to pull.

The hand trembled as it rose up and out. Splinter drew him gently down, until Mike rested on the elderly rat's narrow chest, head nestled under the master's chin. The Turtle slung an arm across his sensei in an awkward hug, listening to the rapid heartbeat beneath the blanket, trying to stop the leak of his tears.

"I would never send you away, my son," Splinter told him. "I will only ask that you and your brothers be true to who you each are, this lifetime. Donatello, Leonardo, Raphael – each of them has done so. But I see your soul has not yet grown...still waiting for you to find who you truly are."

"I'm being who I truly am!" he protested. "Training, and taking care of Shadow, and cooking for everyone, and – "

"That is doing, not being," Splinter said sharply. "And worse: doing for others. Who are you, really? Who are you, Michaelangelo, when all of us are gone? Who are you when your chores are complete and studies are done and there is nothing more for you to do?"

Mike lay, troubled, with his master's breath and heartbeat sounding through his ears and his heart. After awhile, the gnarled hand came up to stroke the back of his head, with a familiar tenderness and rhythm he couldn't bear to imagine living without.

"I don't know," he admitted. "I never think about trying to be – without you."

Splinter sighed. "You became more than a simple turtle for a reason, Michaelangelo. Find the purpose. Just as did they."

Taking a deep breath, Mike pulled his head back so he could see his master's face. "Sensei, what was your reason for becoming more?"

Splinter closed his eyes. "Don-n-Raph-n-Leo..." he echoed with a smile. "And you. So you all could be more."

Mike looked up as Leonardo walked around him and knelt on the far side of the low bed, Donatello and Raphael trailing behind. Mike swiped fast at his eyes...and stared at his hand, suddenly five-fingered again.

"Guess I got the hang of it," Leo explained. "I found the others," he added, unnecessarily.

"We all must be out cold," Mike said, dismayed.

Don nodded – but Raph just stared at their sleeping master.

"So this is what got you started on going human," Don said, watching Splinter breathe. "It wasn't just some impulsive decision? You really had to walk away from us to fulfill your path, find who you were..."

Leo leaned forward. "And the only way to find your path was by becoming human? Going above ground? Walking in that world?"

"Y-yeah," Mike answered. Swallowed, collected himself. "Yeah. It was. But I didn't know it would hurt you guys so badly." He looked down at Splinter, then gently moved the furred arm back into place and tucked the blanket up. "I'm sorry."

Leo sighed. "I didn't know it hurt you so much to risk it all...and then stay away."

"Not that we didn't point it out," Don pointed out.

Raph lay a hand on their master's shoulder.

"It's okay," Mike told them.

Don took Splinter's fingers and warmed them in his own. "He was gone by that morning, wasn't he?" he asked.

"Yeah," said Mike. "I wish he was still here."

They sat for a quiet minute: three Turtles, a rat and a human.

"How are we gonna beat that thing, guys?" Raph asked, turning away. "I think I'm running out of breath, back in that river."

Leo straightened.

"We beat it," he said – and this time when he met Mike's eyes, they held their old focus – "by striking as one."

The flow of lonely agonies slackened. Shifted. Broke altogether.

The voice snarled.

Abanak's hands dropped to close around Leo's throat as the Adversary's hunger retreated, disappointed, unslaked.

"Wake up!" the voice shouted, as Abanak shook the Turtle in frustration. "You're supposed to be grieving! Your master is dead! Your brothers are dead! Look, look!"

Abanak wheeled and opened one hand for a sweeping gesture. The mists slipped backward and the river currents shifted, water from the shallows draining away as they curved out from shore, leaving a staining green scum. Twenty feet out, Raph lay tumbled on the riverbed. "See? Dead and gone!" Rock and earth tumbled aside from the avalanche, next, revealing Don's twisted body. He forced Leo's head around to see it. "Now it's just you and me!"

"I wouldn't be so sure," Leo coughed as the man let go. "We Turtles're just full of surprises."

A hard right caught Abanak under the ear, followed by a choking elbow and a spinal pinch. The man arched like a fish in Mike's arms.

"Former turtles, too," Leo amended.

The Adversary rolled with all its power, sending Mike sprawling.

"I'll crush you!" the voice screamed as Mike hit the ground with a cry. "I'll take you to pieces!"

Leo fought both the exhaustion of the dreams and the dirt still forcing him down. Something cracked sharply – it took him a moment to realize it wasn't one of his own pinned bones. Mike's shout of pain gave it away. Then there were more.

He saw Raph get to his feet and stumble for the bank, still coughing green water and heaving for breath. That brother paused only once – to snatch up the katanas half-buried in the sand. Leo could hear Don clambering out of the dirt behind him, crawling toward the fight with some fresh injury of his own.

As Leo wrenched himself free of the rocks, a harsh jolt to his broken wrist nearly putting him under, the thought rose in his mind that they had, perhaps, underestimated the situation.

They'd managed to wake each other from the dreams. But they had no circle. The only river stones lay beneath now-raging waters, aligned against them. The fog dropped again, pounding the Turtles and Michaelangelo, whirling like a hurricane, leaving them blind.

Then Don, moving on hands and knees, leaned into him. Leo gritted his teeth and shoved forward with him, shouting for Raph. Their brother reached them and passed over the swords. "Get to Mike!" Leo cried, clutching one katana in his good hand.

The Adversary struck him from the side. Leo stabbed outward as he fell, bracing against the ground. Abanak howled.

Leo scrambled backward as Raph dove over him in a head-on, sai-first attack that took the Adversary down.

Then Raph sailed back over Leo in a shell-first, snarling retreat.

As Don slashed through the mist with Leo's other blade, earning strikes of his own, Leo heard a groan just beside him. He reached out and seized his brother's limp hand.

" – do this – " Mike gasped.

Leo understood, dropping his sword as Don rolled back against him. "Donnie, now!" he said, as Raph joined them.

They linked hands, Leo biting down against the red flare from his wrist.

The Turtles focused. Inhaled as one.

Grey clouds hung low over the snowy rooftops, lit with a softer, more colorful glow than usual for a New York City evening. Even here, in Chinatown, the lights seemed friendlier this night.

The Turtles and Mike listened and stared and waited for the Adversary.

Something all black and shadowy slipped from one hiding place to another – but they saw.

A Foot ninja. He signaled, and another joined him.

The sight made them turn, slowly, as understanding dawned, until all three brothers were staring at Leo with expressions torn between horror and concern.

"This wasn't exactly what I had in mind," Mike whispered.

Their leader watched as the pair of warriors leaped at them, katanas hissing out of their sheathes.

"Don't move," he told his brothers.

The ninja landed several feet away and began sparring in the air. Gradually, the sound of clashing metal grew, and the Turtles could see a shadowy figure taking form.

It was Leo...a much younger Leo.

The teen held his own. He lost the tail ends of his bandanna, but dispatched both soldiers shortly after on the trampled, now-bloody snow. Then he dodged a trio of throwing blades that whistled at him through the harsh air. In their wake, he tangled successfully with a chain-wielding ninja.

The younger Leo was fast. Confident.

He moved like shafts of light through water.

Mike shuddered as he watched the enemy's smooth black face mask, its rounded eye shields giving the Foot the look of an alien – inhuman ­– a living embodiment of murder.

Leo tossed him, and the ninja slid 10 feet across the slick rooftop, then dashed for the edge and leaped over.

The younger Leo followed, paused to sheathe his katanas, and swung over the ledge in pursuit.

"What do we do?" Don asked.

"Go after him. Go with him," Raph said, stepping forward. "Help him, this time."

"There's nothing you can do to help him," Leo said shortly. "This is already done. Happened long ago." He watched the rooftop and the buildings surrounding them. "We have to take this battle to – what did you call it earlier, Don? The source?"

His brother nodded. "The Adversary..."

Leo touched each of them briefly, for reassurance – they couldn't tell if it was for them or for him – then closed his eyes. They waited, watching, feeling the silent demand he sent through the wintry landscape.

On the fifth breath, he turned.

Abanak stood at the edge of the roof where the Foot and the younger Leonardo had vanished. "Trying to ignore this dream, huh?" the Adversary taunted. "Can't bear to let them see what it was really like that night, can you?"

"Leo's got nothing to hide!" Don said, stepping forward.

"Everyone's got something to hide!"

The sounds of battle – strikes, thuds, metal hitting wood or bone – echoed up from the alley.

"Let's take him," Mike said, reaching over to snag one of Raph's sai.

"There were three down there..." Leo said quietly. "One got a blade into my shoulder, right up against the shell. Another trapped my katana and cut off the end."

"Leo," Raph said warily.

"Stay with us," Mike added.

Their leader looked up, suddenly, scanning the rooftops. "There – " he pointed. A trio of Foot armed with arrows and bows had appeared a block away. Leo started to run, away from where the Adversary leaned. "Maybe I'm wrong. Maybe we can help."

"Leo! Dammit!" Raph charged after, Mike on his heels.

Don stood for a moment facing their enemy. "I know what you're doing," he said.

"Donatello," it said lovingly, running a too-long tongue around Abanak's lips. "The Great Turtle's wannabe shaman. I look forward to draining you."

"I know what you're doing, and you're going to fail," Don repeated calmly, as snow began to fall. "You can't turn us against him, no matter what he did wrong."

The Adversary snarled amusement.

Don dashed after his brothers. He found them watching the Foot archers jog away, Leo looking frustrated and helpless.

"They just faded around our strikes," he complained.

"You already said it. We can't change the past," Don said, taking their leader's shoulder.

"Holy – " Raph called from the far end of the roof. "Never woulda believed it. I gotta give you credit, Leo."

They joined him, gazing down on the street busy with Chinatown traffic and shoppers and couples walking in the snow. "Check it out," Raph said, pointing.

Someone walked below them with a familiar purposeful gait, draped in a damp, mold-spotted canvas, following a broad-shouldered fighter deeper into Chinatown.

Leo. Letting the fight draw him into the open.

"I didn't know you'd gone after them on the street," Mike said wonderingly.

"I should have turned back after the archers..." Leo said, his voice low. "Should have seen it was a trap, gone back for you."

Several men in cloaks moved out of shadows to tail their brother up the street.

"We'd have geared up with you and gone out looking for them," Don interrupted. "Without a clue what we were really up against."

Mike started to nod. "We'd have ended up fighting them out in the open. With so many of them coming at us, they'd have separated us, taken us down one by one. Probably Casey wouldn't have seen us and come to help. Shredder – he might have actually won."

"And that would have left April and Master Splinter at the apartment, alone," finished Raph.

They watched as the two trailing ninja suddenly flung weapons at the teenage Leo. He spun to deflect them with his undamaged blade, but the projectiles parted easily around the steel, crashing into his face: snowballs.

Mike whistled with surprise. "Whoa, Leo! You lost the cloak!?"

"Look at you," Raph admired as the younger Leo swiped his eyes clear and charged into battle against their swords. "Look at that grin. You were loving this."

Leo's hands tightened on the edge of the rooftop. "I thought I was invincible," he said.

When the battle led Leo around a street corner, Raph took off up the block, chasing the action. The brothers followed, keeping one eye out for Abanak.

Down below, Leonardo moved along a wooden construction fence. He halted as a Foot ninja appeared at the far end, one katana held at the ready.

Another stepped into place behind Leonardo. Leo prepared, turning to stand with arms extended, ready for either's attack.

From their high vantage point, his brothers and older self saw what he could not: Foot coming up the back of the fence behind him with chains, ready to fling them around the Turtle's arms.

Dozens and dozens of armed ninjas waited in the construction pit below.

"I didn't...want you...to have to see this," Leo said.

"Because he knows that even then, even at that point, he could have quit grandstanding and gotten away," the Adversary mocked, a few yards away. "But the fool wanted to show off what a talented little ninja he was."

Leo didn't spare him a glance, his eyes riveted to the scene below. "I was 16, dammit!"

"We all made mistakes, Abanak!" Mike burst in. "At April's that night, I was too busy worrying about dinner to realize my brother was out way too late, getting himself nearly dead. And you! Old Man River had you fooled but good, once, didn't he!"

Wooden boards shattered below, as yet another ninja used a flying kick to send the trapped Leo crashing backward through the fence.

Mike ignored the sounds. "So Leo had to learn the hard way that even he can't win every battle. Not alone. At least he learned."

Turtle and ninjas tumbled two stories to the snow-covered mud of the pit. Leo came up snarling, dripping with filth, chains dangling from his forearms and fists.

"And I think he's figured out," Mike said, "that just because he can't protect us from everything doesn't make him any less our brother...or our leader."

The Foot swarmed into a rough circle around the Turtle – then stopped, parting at their center to make way for the Turtles' lifelong enemy to step through.

The Shredder – the one they had thought dead – waited with menacing confidence in his deadly costume of razor-sharp blades.

The younger Leo went still as he finally realized:

On this Christmas night, he faced his own death.

He gathered himself.

And charged.

On the rooftop, Leonardo pulled himself away. He caught Mike's eye and gave him a tiny, wry smile.

"As we were taught, my brothers," he said then, in Japanese.

They gathered.

Abanak, unlike his intended prey, made a small sound as recognized his own death in the brothers' eyes.

They charged.

Mike reached him first, and slammed the butt end of Raph's sai against the Adversary's borrowed skull.