AN:

To the Guest: Thanks for your review! Don had the (dubious) honor to fight the mutant with four tongues. It got a bit messy. :D

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On the Edge

None of the turtles felt like talking on their way home. They were mulling over the events of the night.

On the plus side, they had fulfilled their part of the bargain with Bishop and gained new information about a dangerous pigeon mutant.

On the minus side, Mondo probably felt betrayed and would never help them again, Slash was still on the loose, and said dangerous pigeon mutant was on the loose, too.

Pete, Michelangelo thought morosely. Who named that thing Pete, seriously?

He was trailing along his brothers, mourning his stillborn friendship with the gecko mutant. He hadn't had the time to explain anything, of course, but what could he have said anyways? That he would do everything it took to save one of his brothers, and if it made him a bad turtle, so be it?

He glanced at Donatello, who met his gaze with a curious expression, and he quickly smiled at him before putting an arm around his brother's shoulders.

Donatello reciprocated, happy to feel him close by. He hated the idea that his family had bargained with Bishop because of him - again. At least it seemed that they had managed to fulfill their promise without Slash ending up in Bishop's hands.

Leonardo, for his part, considered themselves lucky that nobody was hurt. For their first mission together since many, many months, he could have done without the poisonous mutant and his growing-back tongues. But if he was honest with himself, he had missed fighting alongside his brothers. It didn't feel right - it wasn't the safe life he had wished for them when they had parted ways - but the thrill of that dance… knowing that his brothers were there, ready to fight and help and protect each other, and not having to speak with them to know what they were thinking - their strength feeding his own, and vice-versa - oh, how he had missed it.

Even if it was only temporary and nothing was resolved yet - the other mutants had escaped, and would probably follow through with their plan, whatever it was.

Leonardo was pulled out of his thoughts when he felt somebody watching him, and he met Raphael's pensive gaze with an unwavering expression.

Raphael held his brother's gaze for a few seconds before looking away to hide his smile, punching him slightly in the arm. It's great to have us back, he wanted to say, but he didn't dare to. Maybe it was too early, and the last thing he wanted was to hear Leonardo say that he would leave as soon as Slash was under arrest - by the police, this time.

Speaking of the police, he had to tell his chief about tonight's events. Pete's existence was major information. As soon as they had reached the relative privacy of the sewers, he turned to Leonardo.

"Give me your phone, Leo," he asked. "Kurtzman will want to know what happened."

Leonardo nodded and handed over the item. Raphael took a few steps forward to make his call.

"I should probably call Timothy too," Michelangelo said pensively. "He must be worrying."

"By the way, didn't you sign a contract of some sort?" Donatello tilted his head. "I'm surprised he doesn't complain more about your absence."

Michelangelo shrugged. "Oh, yes. I'm losing money as we speak. But I don't think he would want me to perform right now anyways, so I'll negotiate a refund later."

"You can call him as soon as Raph will be done," Leonardo said. "If you think it's a good idea to do so in the middle of the night."

Michelangelo winced. "Now that you're talking about it… maybe I'll wait until tomorrow morning."

"We really should buy new phones," Donatello interjected. "I could build them, of course, but it would take longer than improving a device that already exists."

Michelangelo nodded. "Of course. Use my bank account, I've plenty enough. And feel free to add extra - whatever you need, it's on me."

Donatello had money of his own, although probably less than Michelangelo, but he wasn't going to turn his brother's offer down.

"Alright. I'll add a few other items, then. There is this little something I want to make for Raph..."

Michelangelo looked at him with intense curiosity. "What is it?"

Donatello grinned. "It's a surprise."

He clapped his mouth shut as Raphael came back to them.

"Kurtzman wants to see me." Raphael shrugged. "He barely listened to my tale. See you later, guys."

With a wave of his hand, he began running towards the police station.

%

When he arrived at the lair, Michelangelo collapsed on the couch with a heavy sigh. Donatello had ordered phones and managed to obtain a delivery in the following half an hour - amazing what money could do. The delivery woman had asked no question when he had told her that the package would have to be placed next to a manhole cover. He had gone to retrieve it, while Leonardo had disappeared inside the dojo.

Michelangelo checked the social media, carefully avoiding the articles about Mondo and Slash - he didn't want to think about the teenage gecko mutant right now, he didn't want to, he didn't want to - in order to see if they had calmed down. No such luck, but maybe there were more articles defending him than there had been yesterday. Had Timothy paid a few journalists to turn the tide? He felt guilty. He really should give his manager some news.

The best he could do was wait and see. Something he had always hated. Standing up, he decided to check on Leonardo - was his brother meditating? Or training, maybe? Of course, they had just fought an epic battle with a giant mutant turtle and a poisonous pigeon with disgusting tongues - but you never knew. Maybe it hadn't been enough for Leonardo to call it a night.

To Michelangelo's surprise, Leonardo wasn't in the dojo. Yet he had been sure to see him take that direction… Frowning, he headed for the kitchen. Maybe his brother had wanted a midnight snack.

Leonardo wasn't there either, and when Michelangelo had also checked the rooms and bathroom, he began to worry a little. Had his brother left without telling him anything? No, he wouldn't have, he reasoned. Especially not right now.

He went back to the dojo in case his brother had mysteriously reappeared. No such luck, but he was hearing noises coming from…

Splinter's room?

Tiptoeing, Michelangelo came closer to the place and slid the doors, his heart beating faster. He hadn't been inside since their father had left, and even before, they rarely entered their father's quarters.

Leonardo was inside, dusting the shelves. Splinter had tidied his things up before leaving, throwing away everything that would never be used again, but it still left a lot of trinkets and souvenirs.

Michelangelo crossed his arms. His brother glanced at him before carrying on with his task, his gestures precise and delicate as if he was holding his weapons and not a rag.

"Cleaning up, really? Do you have nothing better to do?" Michelangelo teased, half-sincerely and half to hide his own nostalgia. To be fair, there was a lot of dust - Raphael must have avoided the room.

Leonardo shrugged.

"It helps me think."

"About how to find a pigeon in New York? Good luck with that." Michelangelo's eyes fell on a particular item, and he took the medal he had won at the Battle Nexus. On a whim, he put it around his neck.

"About that, and other things." Leonardo's voice sounded distant.

"Oh, no problem. Thinking is such a great activity. Although I would love to know what's going through someone's head when they think that cleaning can help with that. Seriously."

Leonardo threw a rag at his face. "What about you find out yourself?" he said playfully - and it was almost impossible to tell that he was forcing the words past the lump in his throat.

Michelangelo caught the cloth. "The Battle Nexus Champion is at your service, Sir. But I'm warning you, this isn't going to be a silent activity."

Leonardo shrugged. "As long as you do the talking," he muttered.

"No problem. You're dealing with an expert."

Leonardo grinned - finally. Winking at him, Michelangelo set to work. Starting with his medal.

"Have I already told you how I won the Battle Nexus Tournament? I don't remember."

Leonardo shook his head, probably to indicate that Michelangelo was incorrigible. It wasn't the way Michelangelo himself chose to interpret the gesture, though.

"No? Oh, then I have to! It all began when…"

As Michelangelo went on and on, Leonardo rolled his eyes - but the grin never left his face.

%

Raphael sneaked inside his own police station. It was the middle of the night, and few people were still there. The station was in the process of being repaired, and the secret entrance had been blocked with a wooden panel - he hesitated to kick it before deciding on a more reasonable displacement of it.

He didn't knock before opening the detective's door, not wanting to attract his other colleagues' attention. Kurtzman was standing in front of his shelves, an open file in his hands.

"You wanted to see me, Detective?"

The man spun around and nodded briskly.

"Yes, Raphael. After your brother Donatello told me about his imprisonment, I made some research..."

Raphael took a chair without being asked to. Kurtzman sat on the opposite side of his desk and pushed the file towards him.

"I found the submarine's owner. It belongs to…"

"Belonged," Raphael corrected, taking the file and reading it. "To a certain 'RS'? Who's that?"

Kurtzman leaned towards him. "It's a code name for a Russian magnate."

Raphael raised an eye ridge. "And why would a Russian magnate kidnap my brother?"

Kurtzman sighed. "It hasn't been easy, but I've managed to find out that he has a son born in the USA. His wife emigrated there - or ex-wife, apparently." He bit his lip. "Raphael… His son's name is Rockwell."

Raphael's fingers twitched. "What name did you just say?"

"Rockwell," Kurtzman repeated. "Doctor Rockwell."

Raphael shook his head. Donatello's colleague? It made perfect sense, in a way - who else could so easily fool his brother than someone who was close to him - someone he trusted? He clenched his fists. Donatello was going to be devastated.

"Are you certain?" he asked. "My brother thinks highly of that man."

"Yes." Kurtzman sighed.

"Oh, Don," Raphael whispered. Then it occurred to him that Donatello had entrusted Rockwell with nothing less than the safety of every mutant in the country.

"The scanners," he said abruptly. "Rockwell said they were secure… but…"

Kurtzman nodded. "I've already warned the clinics and hospitals, along with Rockwell's research center so they can arrest him. No mutant will be harmed."

Raphael sighed in relief, before shaking his head. "But why?"

"I'm not sure. However, it looks like Rockwell's mother died in the mutant's outbreak."

"Revenge, then," Raphael muttered, his heart heavy. "And my brother got caught in the middle of it."

%

Mondo sat on the bed of their new hideout, an abandoned cave. It was barely more comfortable than the one he had in prison, but he hadn't known where to go when Pete had flown away, saying he had an important errand to run. That place would have to suffice. Slash was still recovering from the injuries caused by Pete's tongue, and he needed his rest.

Mondo couldn't believe that Michelangelo had betrayed him like that. Handing Slash over to that man…

Slash had told him about Bishop, about his recklessness and his use of mutants to realize his dream of a superhuman army.

Mondo sighed. They hadn't spoken again of killing humans, though, which he was grateful for. He didn't think he would ever be at ease with the thought.

A sudden pain in his head made him wince. He was having headaches since the battle.

"Are you alright, boy?"

Mondo forced a smile. "Yes, I'm fine. Don't worry."

"Hmm." Slash seemed genuinely concerned. "You shouldn't have touched me. Pete's saliva was all over my body, and it's very poisonous."

Mondo couldn't help shivering. "I'm fine, really."

"I would still feel better if we checked you up."

"I don't think I can go to a hospital right now," Mondo protested.

Slash winked. "It's not a problem. Last week, I had the opportunity to steal one of these brand new scanners they were delivering to the hospitals, and I took it. It's in one of our best caches, not far from…" Slash's smile disappeared. "Not far from the drinking water treatment plant."

Mondo licked his lips with his tongue.

"You would know how to use it?"

Slash shrugged. "I have some medical knowledge. Courtesy of Bishop…and his henchman Stockman." He shook his head to dismiss the bad memories.

"And what about you?" Mondo wanted to know.

"I'm even tougher than I look." Slash sighed. "We'll check you up as soon as I'll be able to stand on my own, okay? And I think Pete will meet us there, anyways."

He didn't explain why, and Mondo didn't ask.

"Thanks, Slash."

"You're welcome, boy." Slash leaned backwards with a sigh. "You're welcome," he whispered, more to himself than to the teenager who had chosen to stay by his side.

Wondering if there was any way he could protect him from what Pete and himself would do afterwards. The boy had a heart of gold, even towards the cursed humans - and for the first time, Slash hoped he wouldn't have to break it.

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Donatello was fiddling with his newly-acquired phones when Leonardo and Michelangelo left the dojo, dusty rags on their shoulders.

He immediately noticed that both his brothers looked more relaxed and rejoiced at the sight.

"Oh, do you have my new phone?" Michelangelo called, excited, and he delicately put his rag across Leonardo's shoulders before running to Donatello. Leonardo raised an eye ridge and headed for the bathroom.

"Of course." Donatello threw the phone at Michelangelo. "Catch."

"My baby," Michelangelo cooed. "Last generation, of course."

"Of course. Only the best is good enough for my brothers."

"I love your way of thinking, Don."

Donatello grinned before taking a more serious expression. "Did you guys talk about our next move?"

"Nope. We were talking about how great I am." Michelangelo stretched. "And we cleaned up every souvenir Sensei ever brought back from his travels. I'm exhausted."

Donatello tilted his head, thoughtful. 'You've been cleaning Splinter's room?"

"Yes." Michelangelo hesitated. "Don, when this will be over, do you think that… that we could go see him? Together? I mean, I know he won't be himself and all, but… if you're all with me…" He bit his lip.

Donatello watched him carefully. He knew neither Raphael nor Michelangelo had visited Splinter in the last months. He had, once, with Leonardo - and although his father was well looked after, he had barely recognized them and it had broken his heart.

But maybe they needed to do this, together.

"I'm sure it will be no problem, Mike," he answered softly.

Michelangelo gave him a shaky smile before changing the topic entirely.

"And don't forget, Don, you'll absolutely have to watch my new show. It's awesome, I promise you."

Donatello winked, relieved for the distraction. "I know. I registered the premiere - in high definition."

Michelangelo straightened up, excited. "You did?"

"Of course. Actually, I registered your following performances, too."

Michelangelo grinned, and soon they were discussing the subtle changes in Michelangelo's show from evening to evening, and how the lights could be a little more this or the sound a little more that.

Until Raphael came back to the lair.

From his brother's awkward stance, Donatello could immediately tell that something was wrong. For a while, Raphael just stood in front of him, not sure of how to break the news he obviously had to break, until Donatello put down his screwdriver and looked at him with a determined expression.

"Yes? What did Kurtzman say?"

"Don." Raphael took a deep breath. "We need to talk."

Donatello nodded, his mouth dry. "I'm listening."

%

Rockwell didn't wait for the security service to arrest him. He was monitoring the communications and intercepted Kurtzman's message - and although he was none too pleased with having to leave on emergency, he had a back-up plan.

That plan might be messier than the scanners' scheme, and they would easily trace it back to him - but it was also quicker, and besides, why should he have cared, now that his cover was blown?

Once he would have executed it, he would flee to his father's country. His plan wouldn't impact every mutant in the country, sadly - only those from New York.

Well, it was a start.

All he had to do was sneaking inside a drinking water treatment plant, and pour a little something in the water. It would be innocuous to the humans who would drink it, of course - but mutants… Mutants were another matter entirely.

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Donatello looked at his brother, in shock.

"No. No, Raph. You must be mistaken. Rockwell would never…"

Raphael put a soothing hand on his arm.

"I'm sorry, Don," he said softly, when what he really wanted to do was shout his outrage at the unfairness of it all.

"He would never… Not to me. He's my… He's my friend!"

Both Leonardo, who of course had wanted to listen to Raphael's tale, and Michelangelo grimaced.

Raphael refrained from stating the obvious, namely that Rockwell was no friend worthy of the name.

Donatello closed his eyes. As much as he didn't want it to be true, his mind was already starting to puzzle the pieces together. Everything made sense now. Rockwell had felt threatened and gotten rid of him by… by… sending him in a submarine?

"Why didn't he kill me instead?" he whispered.

"Maybe he does care about you, in a madman's way," Michelangelo inserted timidly.

Donatello didn't answer. Elbows on his desk, he pressed the palm of his hands against his forehead.

Everything they had shared was a lie.

Their complicity…

Their concern for the well-being of humans and mutants alike…

His dreams that what he did mattered. That he was making things better, for everybody…

How many of his other projects had Rockwell fiddled with? Had he contributed to endanger people instead of helping them?

"I can't believe I trusted him!" Donatello exclaimed, slamming his fists against the desk.

His brothers winced at the unexpected outburst.

Donatello leaned backwards, ashamed.

"Guys, I'll need some time to process this," he tried to explain. "It's… it's disheartening. I…"

Raphael, Michelangelo and Leonardo exchanged meaningful glances.

"Hey, Don," Raphael said, delicately putting his fingers around Donatello's wrists.

Leonardo moved behind him to put a hand on his shoulder, while Michelangelo knelt on the ground to embrace him around the middle.

"Whatever happens, please remember that you're not alone."

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Author's Note: Well, well… I really wonder where the next chapter will take place…

On a side note, we're nearing the end of this story. There are two chapters left, plus an epilogue.