AN: The turtles are out, and Leo is leading. What could possibly go wrong? (Any resemblance to the author's note of chapter 6 is, of course, entirely accidental.)

Information about New York celebrities is strictly made up.

XiaoR18: Haha! Notifications are dangerous. Thank you so much for your kind review!

Hawkfeather: Thank you! I'm afraid Leo still isn't convinced of that fact.

Nutella Swirl: Things going horribly wrong? Of course not, of course not. At least I don't think so… Hmm… Maybe you should just read. Thanks for reviewing! :D

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Into The Lion's Den

On a rooftop facing Sir Hubert's house, Donatello, Raphael and Leonardo were watching disguised people entering through the main entrance. Donatello was commenting the scene for his brothers.

"That woman here is a famous singer… That man, a great musician… And there is the mayor… And look, the woman with him isn't his wife! How scandalous!"

"How can you know she's not his wife?" Leonardo asked, impressed. "I wasn't even sure that zebra was a woman."

"It's obvious, Leo," Donatello explained. "The mayor's wife's gait is completely different."

"If you say so."

"How come you know so much about New York celebrities, Donnie?" Raphael asked ironically. "I thought you hated tabloids and celebrity shows."

His voice sounded unusually grumpy, even for him. Donatello coughed.

"I have to gather as much knowledge as I'm able to. It's important, for… studying purposes."

"If the mayor has arrived, the party will properly start soon," Leonardo pointed out, changing the topic much to Donatello's relief. "We should go."

Raphael sighed heavily.

"Do we really have to?"

"If you're having second-thoughts, you can still go home," Leonardo suggested.

His offer was rewarded with a furious glare.

"Nope. I'm just saying, I wish we had more appropriate disguises."

"What's not appropriate with these disguises, Raph?" Donatello asked. "The whole purpose of costumes is to pretend to be someone entirely different."

"We're glittering!"

"Indeed, Raph, you're very observant," Leonardo deadpanned.

"Shut up. It's your fault anyway. Why did you give Mikey free rein over our costumes?"

"He was so sad to have to stay home," Leonardo answered matter-of-factly. "I wanted to cheer him up. You agreed on that."

Raphael went on, ignoring his brother's answer.

"And why, why did you specify that he had to make us as visible as possible?"

"For protection. Sir Hubert will have a harder time making us disappear if we steal the show. Besides, Mikey did a great job. It's impossible to notice that we are mutant turtles."

"Donnie is a unicorn!"

"And my horn is detachable and very, very sharp," Donatello noticed happily.

"You are a ladybug," Raphael went on, addressing Leonardo. "Why, I wonder?"

"For good luck," Leonardo answered. "How nice of Mikey."

"And I… I…" Raphael choked.

"Come on, Raph, your disguise is great," Donatello teased him. "Very pretty."

"Shut up!" Raphael found his voice.

"You refused to be a unicorn," Leonardo remarked. "Or a ladybug. So you had to accept the third costume. And remember how happy Mikey was," he added with a touch of his former sense of humor. "Wasn't it worth it?"

Raphael threw up his hands.

"But why, why did it have to be a fairy?"

"Don't worry, Raph," Donatello said with glee. "You're making an amazing fairy. A little plump, maybe, and not very graceful, and really grumpy, but still… that dress! That hat! So fitting!"

Sighing, the ladybug got between the cackling unicorn and the growling fairy before the latter could destroy his glittering costume by an unwelcome wrestling act.

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Leonardo's plan was simple and more than a little desperate. They were going to attend the party and speak with as many people as they could. They would pretend to be famous Japanese martial artists visiting New York. Donatello had checked the guests' list, and no Japanese officer would be present tonight. That way, they hoped that their story wouldn't be second-guessed.

It was dangerous, of course. They usually reduced their interactions with humans at minimum. Besides, none of the turtles had brought their weapons. Leonardo believed that Sir Hubert's security would be thorough and discreetly check everyone up. Donatello had agreed and added that considering the man involved, there would certainly be metal detectors and maybe even X-ray machines hidden in the entrance doorway. As the guards already knew that Leonardo, Donatello and Raphael were turtles, it wasn't as concerning an issue as it would otherwise have been.

Their costumes had been designed and realized with the utmost love and care by Michelangelo. They were true works of art, and would certainly attract everyone's attention. Besides, they concealed a few improvised weapons. Donatello's horn and his hooves were detachable. Raphael's veils were sewn with an extremely resistant fabric and could be used as ropes, either for escape of for tying people up. Leonardo's ladybug's spots could be used as projectiles, and his antennae were filled with a foul-smelling liquid.

Preparations had taken most of the day, and Splinter still hadn't woken up. Leonardo had finally resigned himself to leaving before he had the opportunity to talk to his father and ask for his wisdom. As much as the blue-clad turtle wanted his father to be awake and healed, he hoped that the ninja master would stay unconscious for the few hours to come. He wasn't sure that Splinter would approve of that particular plan, and he didn't want his father to worry about them.

At least Mikey is with him.

Leaving his orange-clad brother behind had been the most disheartening part. Without even mentioning the fact that they would be short of one powerful fighter, Michelangelo was utterly disappointed to be confined in the lair. Leonardo had done his best to soothe him, even though he was secretly relieved that at least one of them would stay safely out of the collector's grasp.

Leonardo was determined to do his best to get his brothers in and out. He was steadily fighting the mean voice instilling doubt inside his soul.

Even if Donnie is right and you're the best possible leader out of the four of you, it still doesn't mean that you're a good one.

The blue-clad turtle buried this last disheartening thought with the others and forced his mind to focus on the situation.

Signaling to his brothers to follow him, he skillfully climbed down the building and landed near a limousine on the street. Straightening up, he pretended to have just gone out of the car and began walking casually to the collector's brightly lit house, his brothers flanking him.

It was time to enter the trap and see if they could neutralize it before it killed them.

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Michelangelo was sitting next to his unconscious father, watching television with the volume at minimum, when Splinter stirred. The orange-clad turtle immediately turned to him, in time to see the giant rat wearily open his eyes. Michelangelo immediately threw himself at him for a fierce and relieved hug.

"Sensei! You're awake!"

Splinter blinked before smiling warmly at his son.

"Yes, my son," he answered with a hoarse voice. "However, I won't stay awake for a long time if you don't let me breathe."

"Sorry," Michelangelo immediately said, and without letting his father go, he slid a little to the side so he wasn't leaning on Splinter's chest. "I'm so happy that you're awake!"

"You and me both, Michelangelo," Splinter answered, embracing his son.

The giant rat looked for his other sons, who would undoubtedly arrive soon, attracted by the commotion. As the seconds passed and no one came, he narrowed his eyes.

"Michelangelo, where are your brothers?"

Michelangelo's eyes widened, and he moved his head from side to side a few times as if he was searching for these brothers. Apparently convinced that none of them would come to his rescue, he laughed nervously.

"Oh, you're so going to love this. This is so epic! You won't believe your ears! That is, once I'll have told you! Because in fact, they are… they are…"

As the ninja master began frowning, the orange-clad turtle quickly finished his sentence, extending his injured leg to make sure his father remembered that he was now a poor hurt turtle that certainly couldn't be thrown across the room.

"They are at a costume party."

It must have worked, because Splinter didn't make a move and just watched his son with wide eyes for a few seconds.

"They are at a costume party. Is it what you just said, my son?"

"Yes," Michelangelo confirmed. "Absolutely."

"And whose party would that be?"

This time, Michelangelo cautiously stood up and took his crutches, which were glittering slightly.

"Oh, you must be thirsty. Let me bring you a glass of water before we go on with this fascinating conversation."

As Splinter didn't object, Michelangelo slowly retreated to the kitchen. Just before disappearing inside the room, he answered his father's question.

"You remember the house we visited yesterday? With its nice traps and nice guards and nice darts? Well, its owner invited us."

Then he rushed to the relative safety of the kitchen, leaving his father open-mouthed. The giant rat tried to sit down, but he was too dizzy. Straining his hoarse voice, he called in a tone that didn't tolerate contradiction.

"Michelangelo!"

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Leonardo could hear the admiring whispers of the crowd as he and his brothers made their way to the entrance of the house. Donatello gave their printed invitation card to the doorman, who scanned it without comment before motioning for them to enter.

The door opened onto an inside garden. The party guests were walking around, enjoying the drinks and buffet. It was a beautiful place. Leonardo only hoped that it wasn't trapped like the upper levels of the house had been.

"Let's split up, guys," he whispered. "Remember, talk to as many people as you can, but keep the conversation short. Make them curious, so they will focus their attention on us."

"Of all the things I never thought I would hear from you…" Raphael grumbled, one hand on his fairy hat that kept sliding.

"Life is full of surprises," Leonardo retorted. "I never thought I would see you dressed up like this."

Raphael narrowed his eyes, but before he could protest, Leonardo and Donatello had already disappeared in the crowd. With a sigh, the usually red-clad turtle and currently rainbow-colored fairy – he didn't know what kind of revenge he would take on Michelangelo later, but it was going be terrible – turned to the nearest guest and started a conversation.

"Hi," he greeted him, trying to sound casual. "So, uh… how is the party going?"

The man, who looked stiff in his superhero costume, watched him with disdain.

"The party hasn't started yet. We're waiting for our host. Although I shouldn't be surprised that you're ignoring this, you look like you have no idea what good taste is."

The superhero turned away from the boiling fairy.

"Another parvenu," he muttered, leaving.

Raphael took a deep breath. Taking off his glittering scarf, he surreptitiously threw an end at the man's left foot before quickly putting it on again and leaving on light fairy feet.

He allowed himself a smile when he heard the satisfying bump of a contemptuous superhero's head colliding with the floor.

On the other side of the garden, Donatello was having fun. He was gracefully moving from one ladies' circle to another. The ladies were fond of his unicorn disguise and giggled at his well-phrased compliments, even the ones at the head of prestigious business empires. He didn't know if it was a side-effect of his costume or if he had a natural charm.

The latter is unlikely, considering how April rejected me, he thought sadly.

Donatello refused to let the thought dishearten him. This was probably his last opportunity to attend a costume party with humans, and he wanted to live it to the full. Besides, the party would probably crash down in spectacular fashion sooner or later. There was no time to lose.

"Hello, milady," he whispered to another woman dressed up as a witch. The woman frowned before discovering the shining unicorn who had spoken to her, and immediately softened. Donatello inwardly smiled. Another win for Michelangelo's costume.

Not far from them, Leonardo was discreetly keeping watch on the doors while performing idle chatter with an impressive dedication. Everyone was waiting for their host's appearance. Regular guests to Sir Hubert's parties had confided in him that you could never know what would happen on these receptions. Their host was renowned for his eccentricity, which didn't help appeasing Leonardo's worries. The ladybug politely took his leave and walked to another circle of disguised people. So far, their plan went well. Donatello the unicorn was a hit with ladies. On a different note, Raphael the grumpy fairy left behind him a trail of stumbling men. Leonardo had to admit that he was impressed by his brother's discretion. So far, none of his victims had noticed his little game.

A commotion made him turn around. The ceiling was opening, giving way to a small sized hot-air balloon. A fat man was leaning on the railing of the basket, smiling hugely. He was disguised as a hunter, massive rifle included. Leonardo had a bad feeling that it was loaded.

The man opened his arms and addressed the awed crowd.

"Welcome, welcome in my home! I'm honored that you accepted my humble invitation. I hope you will enjoy our first activity together. It's one of my favorites: a small hunt."

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Splinter had removed his IV line and was drinking his glass of water. Michelangelo was sitting in front of him on the floor, watching him with worried eyes. The ninja master didn't know what was worse: that the mad collector who was the cause of both their injuries had proof of their existence, or that his three other sons had taken upon themselves to fall into his trap.

At least Leonardo was the leader this time. Splinter could only hope that his blue-clad son knew what he was doing. The ninja master was in no condition to rescue his beloved sons this time. Taking deep breathes to keep his anxiety under control, he extended an arm towards Michelangelo, and the orange-clad turtle swiftly nestled against him.

"Dad, do you think they will be okay?"

Splinter's ears twitched. Michelangelo was the only one of his sons who still called him 'Dad' sometimes, and the giant rat had to admit that he liked it.

"I certainly hope so, my son. Your brothers are resourceful. We have to trust them."

"Yeah, I guess," Michelangelo sighed.

Splinter tilted his head.

"Is something else on your mind, Michelangelo?"

He felt his son shrug and hug him tighter. Michelangelo finally raised his head, his light blue eyes filled with concern.

"Dad, how can I help Leo?"

Splinter blinked.

"What do you mean, help him?" He inquired tactfully.

Michelangelo shifted in his father's arms.

"I mean he's not himself right now. It's like he's not really here, and I don't know how to make him come back."

Splinter stroked his son's head with fondness, his heart filled with wonder and sorrow.

"My so caring Michelangelo. You're right. Your brother is having a difficult time right now. I am not entirely sure how to help him myself. He's feeling…inadequate, I think."

"It's stupid," Michelangelo muttered. "He's awesome, period."

Despite his worry, Splinter smiled.

"Then maybe you need to remind him."

"Can do," Michelangelo yawned. "'m tired. Do you mind if I take a nap?"

"Not at all, my son," Splinter whispered with love. "Not at all."

While his orange-clad son drifted into sleep, a comforting weight against his side, the ninja master turned his thoughts back to his other sons. He hoped with all his heart that they were alright.

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"Here is what I suggest," Sir Hubert went on happily. "My men will chase you – for fun, of course – and try to get you to sleep with these small darts." The collector rolled one of said darts between his fingers. "Don't worry, they won't hurt you. The darts are named, and precisely dosed for each of you. We made special ones for those of you who have allergies. It won't be said that Sir Hubert doesn't take care of his guests!"

Leonardo felt his heart sink. If that was the collector's plan, it wouldn't matter that the disguised turtles had been noticed by almost everyone in the room. But how was I supposed to know that he would lower himself to such an extremity? Leonardo thought.

Around him, the crowd was quivering with anticipation. Whispers of 'He's exaggerating' and 'How exciting!' could be heard. To Leonardo's surprise, the latter were more frequent.

"Bored people would accept anything for a little excitement," Donatello whispered in his ear, and Leonardo was relieved to see that both his brothers had joined him.

"Change of plan, guys," he whispered back. "Don't let them capture you."

"I didn't intend to," Raphael growled.

"My men only have one try for each of you," Sir Hubert went on. "Those of you who will still be standing at the end of our little game will have the privilege to visit my private collection, with me as their guide!"

From the excited whispers Leonardo heard, this was a rare occurrence.

"Let's begin! Have fun!" Sir Hubert roared, and the crowd scattered with cries of delight.

The first darts were shot, and a few people fell on the floor. Other darts landed on the plants or buffet, missing their targets. Leonardo, Donatello and Raphael had no problem avoiding them, even though their disguises made jumping harder.

However, it seemed that the collector had lied, and there were more than one dart per person, because whenever the guards missed someone, that someone was quickly got to sleep by another dart. Because of the general confusion, no one except the turtles seemed to notice.

Leonardo checked the doors, but they were locked. Donatello managed to notice where a few of the guards were hidden and successfully sent them their darts back. Raphael was moving gracefully to avoid the darts, his veils dancing across the leaves of the garden's bushes. In other circumstances, Leonardo would have laughed at the sight. But tonight, the stakes were too high. There was nothing fun in this situation.

Mikey would have managed to make fun of it, though, Leonardo thought distractedly.

The usually blue-clad turtle picked up a dart with the intent to shoot it at Sir Hubert, but the collector had disappeared. The ceiling was still wide open. Maybe they could use it at as an escape route?

"Guys, come here," Leonardo shouted. He was pretty sure that they were the only ones still standing right now.

Before the three turtles could begin their ascent, however, they were surrounded by guards pointing shotguns at them. The unicorn, the fairy and the ladybug froze.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Sir Hubert's voice cooed. "Not if you want to stay awake for the visit you just won. And I should mention that this baby doesn't shoot darts."

The collector had reappeared in the hot-hair balloon's basket and was playing with his rifle.

"My dear, dear guests. Your costumes are truly magnificent. You're honoring me. But where are the two others?"

Now the game is truly on, Leonardo thought.

A game he was determined to win.