AN: Damn, this chapter just poured out of me! Thank you to my one reviewer so far; I always appreciate reviews.
II.
In the morning, the brothers gather around the kitchen table before their father awakens, with a spread they all helped put together: coffee, tea, fruit, eggs, sausage patties, hash browns, toast, butter, and jam.
"So, we're really doing it," Leo starts, when they've all settled into their seats and started eating.
His three brothers nod as he searches their faces.
"But only if we can agree on ground rules that make sense," says Donnie.
Leo's not surprised by that. He was starting to think of those rules himself.
Donnie reaches into the center of the table and hits the "record" button on the voice recorder he placed there. "Once we've got the rules down, I'll put them in writing, so we can easily refer back to the list. Leo, if you don't mind, I'll start."
Leo raises his eye ridges a little bit. He should've known Donnie would already have at least one rule in his head.
"Rule number one," says Donnie. "We only go after traffickers as a team. All four of us have to be present on every single operation involving direct contact with them."
He's looking right at Leo when he says it.
"Hell, yes," says Raph. "Leo, I swear to god, if you ever try to pull some lone hero crap, I will knock you out."
Leo holds up his hands. "I was never trying to do this alone," he says, looking at all his brothers. "I'm fine with the rule. You got any other ideas, Donnie?" '
Donnie hesitates for just a second, but Leo senses it.
"If any of us even comes close to being captured," Donnie says, "the mission is over. Permanently."
Leo tenses at that. Capture is always a risk for them, no matter what kind of mission they go on. They've been captured many times in the last fifteen years and probably will be again.
Raph and Mikey both look at Leo, as Donnie holds the eldest turtle's gaze.
"You know I'm not a fan of retreat and surrender," Raph says to Leo. "But I side with Don on this one. Getting captured by these pricks would be worse than death."
Leo looks at Donnie. "Define close," he says.
"If it's clear the guys we're fighting intend to snatch one of us into a vehicle or a cage, rather than kill us on the spot," says Donnie.
"I want to add something to this rule," says Raph. "If it's looking like one of us is about to get captured, we shift priorities and throw everything we got into saving our brother. Even if it means the bad guys get away. Even if they take their victim with them."
"That's the perfect segue to my next rule," Donnie answers. "Which is: if anything goes wrong on an operation, we get out immediately, even if we have to leave a victim behind."
Leo feels torn between knowing his brothers' rules make sense and hating the idea of abandoning a victim. He sits in silence, openly displeased.
"Guys, you know I'm no coward," says Mikey. "But I am literally so spooked when I think about any one of us getting thrown into the back of a van by these people."
Donnie looks at him. His brother's naked facial expression and open verbal admission of fear is so Mikey, it sends a tender feeling through Donnie's heart. "Me too," he says, his voice quiet.
Leo finally nods. "Okay," he says. "I can agree to those rules. Now, listen to mine: we don't leave behind any witnesses when we attack traffickers."
Mikey shivers.
But nobody objects.
"We'll have a follow-up meeting after every single operation," Leo continues. "So that we can check in with each other and review how the rescue or attack went."
"I have a rule that's related to that," says Donnie. "We have to communicate with each other openly about everything related to this mission, including what we're thinking and feeling after an operation."
Raph sighs, still the brother who's least willing to talk about his feelings.
"Agreed," Leo replies. "No secrets. If anybody starts keeping secrets about anything related to this mission, it's off."
Donnie gives his brother a curt nod.
"I've got one," says Mikey.
All of his brothers look at him.
"If the mission starts to damage any of us mentally…. We stop."
"Sounds like a good idea," says Raph.
"Okay," Leo says. "Is that it?"
The four turtles all look around the table at each other.
Donnie turns off the voice recorder.
"I'll set up a meeting with April," Leo tells his brothers. "We're going to need everything she's got. Hopefully, her info points us in the right direction, and we can get started soon."
He stands up, waits for his brothers to stop him, then takes his empty plate and utensils to the sink. He pours himself another cup of tea and says, "I'll be training, if anyone needs me" as he heads toward the dojo.
Raph gets up next, grabbing the last sausage patty and chomping on it as he takes his plate to the sink. "Good meeting, guys," he says. "It's weight lifting time."
He leaves his two younger brothers alone.
Mikey continues to finish his breakfast, giving off the same quiet and contemplative energy he's had the last two days.
Donnie was hoping they'd get left alone together. "Are you satisfied with the rules?" he says.
Mikey glances at him. "Yeah, I think so. We covered all our bases. I just hope—I just hope we're okay."
Donnie understands him perfectly. He's nervous about this mission too. He sips on his now lukewarm tea and shifts his body toward his little brother. "So, I have some information for you about turtle social behavior, if you want to hear it."
Mikey perks up at that. "Yeah, of course, I want to hear it."
"Okay. Let's start with sexual pair bonding: turtles don't do it. They don't form romantic relationships with their maters, their sexual partners. When turtles mate, it's pretty much just to fertilize the females' eggs. They don't stay together after they complete the sex act, and there's never been any evidence that mates have emotional attachments to each other."
Mikey nods and doesn't seem surprised or disappointed.
"A lot of animals are like that," Donnie continues. "Humans are kind of rare when it comes to fusing love with sex and forming pair bonds with sexual partners. They're also rare for their propensity to form nuclear families in which to raise children. Turtles don't do that. Mother turtles lay their eggs, and once those baby turtles hatch, they're on their own."
"Dude," says Mikey. "That's harsh."
Donnie shrugs. "Turtle species have survived a long time, so enough of those babies survive on their own well enough."
"So turtles don't fall in love and they don't really care about family."
"Right."
"How are they not lonely?"
"I don't know," says Donnie. "Loneliness isn't a universal emotion in the animal kingdom. Some species display it, some don't. It depends on how social they are, and that all comes down to how they've been wired through millions of years of evolution."
"Okay. So I'm guessing turtles don't have sex as much as people," Mikey says.
"Correct. They only have sex during breeding season, and that happens a couple times a year at most, depending on what kinda turtle you're talking about. Humans have sex all the time, and they often use it as a bonding activity. That behavior's consistent throughout primate species."
"So…. If we don't feel like something's missing because we're single, that's probably because we're turtles."
"Probably," says Donnie. "But we're similar enough to humans that we care about our family and don't want to go off to live by ourselves."
"True," says Mikey. "Why do you think it's easy enough for us to live without sex, though?"
"Uh…. I'm not sure, honestly. It might be a side effect of the mutagen that transformed us. I mean, technically, we're not supposed to exist…. We weren't born like this. So it would make sense that we wouldn't have the basic drive to have sex and reproduce like most animals. We probably aren't fertile, and even if we are, we don't come from a species of mutant turtles, you know? Sexual drive, biologically speaking, exists because it facilitates reproduction of a species. We don't really have a species to keep alive."
"I guess that makes sense…. But, dude. We all still…."
Mikey looks a little bashful as he trails off, and it's obvious he hopes Donnie can read his mind.
"Get the urge to masturbate?" Donnie supplies. "Yeah. I'm going to assume that's primarily hormonal and also the result of our human-like bodies and brains. Pretty sure wild turtles don't masturbate. Lots of animals don't. They can't!"
Mikey gets up from the table to pour himself another glass of orange juice. He turns toward his brother, gesturing with his hands as he puts the bottle back in the fridge. "Okay, so, if we ran into other mutant turtles, there's a chance we'd want to have sex with them just because they'd be the same as us?"
"Maybe. It's hard to say."
Mikey sits back down with his glass of OJ. "Could we…. Could we want to pair bond somehow even though we don't really need the sex part?"
Donnie blinks. He hadn't thought of that so clearly. "Well," he starts. "I guess it's possible. Most human pair bonding is sex-driven, and that seems to be true for other species that pair bond…. What you're talking about, correct me if I'm wrong, is romantic relationships without sex. Like the opposite of turtle mating."
"Yeah. Yeah, I think so."
Donnie doesn't speak for a little bit, staring down at the bottom of his empty mug, and Mikey sips his juice beside him.
"Is that what you want?" Donnie says. "A romantic relationship without the sex?"
"Dude, I don't know," Mikey says, and he sounds as earnest as he always does. "I was just wondering if something like that is even possible, you know? And if it is possible…. Is there something wrong with us for not wanting it?"
Donnie looks at his little brother. "You keep using that word. Wrong. I thought we all got past worrying about it years ago."
"I haven't worried about it at all until recently, when I started thinking about this stuff."
Donnie goes quiet again. He's got a lot of feelings churning through him now, but he can't put them to words. What he knows for sure is he would hate for any of his brothers—but especially Mikey—to long for something they can't have and be miserable forever as a result.
"What would be the appeal of a romantic relationship without sex?" Donnie says.
"Uhhhh…." Mikey shrugs with a smile. "I haven't even thought that far, bro. Not the kinda stuff from the movies. The clichéd, like, rom-com type stuff. I mean, don't get me wrong, it makes for a good story, but…. I'm fine without all that."
Donnie watches his brother, waiting with piqued curiosity now. He's never thought about any of this before himself, and it's been a long time since he learned something new from his brother.
"I guess it'd be nice to have more affection," Mikey says. "Like touching and stuff. Random acts of kindness. Just having the kind of relationship with somebody where you do nice stuff for each other all the time, just to show you really care. Those are pretty much the only things the four of us don't have with each other. I think we got the trust and like—looking out for each other, quality time and whatever."
Donnie smiles. He could argue that Leo and Raph still don't trust anybody completely with their feelings, but they're better about it now than they were as teenagers and young adults.
"Man," Mikey says, getting to his feet and stretching like he just woke up from a dream. "This conversation was super intense. I don't want to think this hard again for a while."
Donnie shakes his head.
"Thanks for the information, though," Mikey adds. "I guess I feel better now. I'm going to go play some video games. Wanna join?"
"Maybe after I write up our mission rules," says Donnie. "Hey, Mikey?"
"Yeah?"
Donnie just looks at his little brother for a moment, wanting to make a suggestion but afraid…. Of rejection, he realizes. An alien feeling in his brother relationships.
But Mikey's face lets him know, as always, that Mikey won't judge him. It's one of his best qualities: he's the most accepting turtle in the family.
"If you want those things you mentioned…. We could always try giving them to each other," Donnie says. He feels his face warm and wonders if he's blushing.
A slow smile spreads through Mikey's lips. "Aw, Donnie," he says.
Now Donnie definitely feels like he's blushing.
"That's really sweet, dude. What are you picturing, exactly?"
"Well," Donnie says. "You mentioned physical affection and random acts of kindness. We definitely don't have much of those two elements. And something you didn't mention that I've observed in human romantic relationships, at least in entertainment, is verbalization of one's feelings toward the other person for no reason beyond expression. So…. Those three things, I guess?"
Mikey's grin deepens. "Yeah, okay. Let's do it. Let's start right now."
Mikey swoops onto Donnie and pulls him into a hug. He curls his arm around Donnie's neck and head, and Donnie's face is suddenly pressed against Mikey's plastron. After the older turtle gets over his initial surprise, he softens and wraps his arms around his brother's waist, a warm feeling spreading through him. They hug each other longer than they ever have before, except for in life-or-death situations.
Donnie enjoys it more than he would've predicted.
"Love you, Dee," Mikey says in a lowered voice.
Donnie hasn't heard those words from his brothers in a long time. He holds Mikey closer, smiling. "Love you too," he replies.
The brothers climb through April's open window that night and find her drinking a glass of red wine at her kitchen table. It's late enough that she must've already had dinner. She smiles at them as they hop quietly into her apartment and surround her.
"Where's Casey?" says Raph.
"Out of town," April replies. "Visiting his sister. How are you guys?"
The turtles look around at each other, then back at April.
"We're okay," says Leo. "How are you?"
April gives a half-hearted shrug and purses her lips. "I'm okay, I guess. Still thinking about that story I covered. Raphael says you all saw it."
"Yeah, that's…. kinda why we're here."
"What do you mean?"
Leo steps forward and kneels before April, leaning on his hands on his raised knee. "My brothers and I are here because we've decided to go after the traffickers in this city, and we need all the information you have."
April opens her mouth to protest, eyes wildly bouncing off Leo's face and to the other three turtles standing behind him. But Leo holds up one hand to stop her.
"I'm called to do this, April," he says. "I could feel that calling as soon as I watched your report. I meditated on it, talked to Master Splinter, and discussed with my brothers. We've agreed to move forward with this mission. We knows it's dangerous—"
"You have no idea what you're talking about," says April. "You've known about this for what, three days? I've been working on this for weeks, and I still don't know half as much as the cops do. You don't have any of the details! You can't possibly have a realistic idea of what you're trying to get into!"
Leo bows his head, then looks up at her again. "You're right. We don't have all the details. That's why we're here, asking you to give them to us."
"Leonardo, I can't believe I'm saying this about you, but you haven't thought this through. The risks to you four alone are off the charts, but it's not just about you. Your father, Casey and I, anyone who's ever helped you or given you shelter could be targeted by these men if they find out who you are."
"April…. I've been thinking about this mission nonstop from every angle since your report. I have thought about you and my father and my brothers. How could I not? We're not going to treat this mission like every other one we've done because it's not. We have rules. If anything goes wrong, we'll stop. And I probably shouldn't tell you this, but we don't plan on leaving any trafficker we lay eyes on alive."
April's eyes widen a little at that. She knows the turtles have killed enemies in combat since she first met them, but she's never thought of them as assassins.
Leo stares at her with pleading eyes and earnestness all over his face, unmoving. She feels her resistance weakening. She drains her wine glass in a single drink, runs her hand through her hair, and finally gets up out of her chair.
Leo stands again, and the turtles watch her move into the living room to retrieve her work bag. She brings it back to the kitchen table and takes out a thick manila folder full of paper, slapping it down on the tabletop.
"That's everything I've got," she says and goes to pour herself another glass of wine. "Take it."
Leo touches the folder with one finger. "Thank you," he says. "We'll return the file tomorrow night."
"There's a business card in there for Detective Max McGuire. She was my main contact in the NYPD. You'll probably have to speak to her if you're really going to do this. I can give her the talk before you reach out to her."
Leo takes the file under his arm at least and says, "Thanks, April."
Donnie takes a step toward her. "We won't let anything happen to you and Casey," he tells her.
She just looks at him, obviously unconvinced. "Yeah," she says. "Sure."
When Leo slips into the dojo early the following morning, he's surprised to find Raphael already there. The red-banded turtle is practicing a weaponless kata, something he rarely does of his own volition. He catches Leo's eye across the room but doesn't pause in his movements. Leo pauses at the edge of mat, then bows before stepping on it. His original plan was to start with a fifteen minute warm-up, followed by forty-five minutes of sword practice, but now he approaches his brother with something else in mind.
Raph finishes his kata by the time Leo reaches him.
"You're up early," Leo says.
"Wanted to clear my head in a quiet house," says Raph.
Leo knows exactly what that feels like. He does it every day. "What do you say to a sparring exercise? No weapons. It's been a while since we did that."
Raph thinks about it for a second, then nods.
The two brothers face each other and bow. The moment he's upright again, Leo makes the first strike, and Raph blocks him without thinking, blocks Leo's second blow, then hops back out of his brother's range.
"April's file bothers you," Leo says.
"No shit," Raph replies, blocking and punching. "It bothers you too, that's why you want to go on the mission."
Leo ducks under his brother's high kick, then spins into a roundhouse kick that hits Raph's shell and pushes the bigger turtle off balance. They look at each other with tension between them, tension that has nothing to do with their sparring.
Raph lunges at Leo, who evades him, then steps further to catch his brother with an undercut to his belly that makes Leo grunt. Leo swipes Raph's fist away with his arm and throws a right hook at his brother's head that comes close enough to brush at Raph's skin.
"Anybody with a heart would feel fucked up over that file," Raph says.
"Are you capable of keeping your emotions under control enough to successfully carry out our mission?" says Leo.
Raph surprises him, darting into his space, and he flinches back. Raph swipes Leo's right leg out from under him, and the older turtles falls onto his shell. Raph straddles his brother before Leo can get up.
"I could ask you the same question," Raph says, then throws a punch at Leo's face that his brother swerves dodges. With his other hand, Raph grabs his brother's throat, and that makes Leo go still, staring up at Raphael with a combination of awareness that his brother could easily crush his windpipe and absolute trust that Raphael would never, ever intentionally hurt him. Leo wants to kick himself for allowing his opponent to get him in a chokehold; the fighter who pulls that move successfully always has the upper hand, at least as long as they can keep the pose.
Raph can feel Leo's pulse beating against his palm. He relishes the small victory of getting Leonardo in this position, though he won't gloat about it. He also secretly appreciates the strange intimacy of having his brother pinned under him like this, so vulnerable in a way Leo rarely is with anyone.
"Anger is an emotion, Leo," Raph says, looking into his brother's eyes. "I, of all people, know that. And I really question whether you're cut out to do this mission without getting swallowed up in your own rage."
Leo uses all his physical strength to flip Raph off of him, propelling himself with one hand on the mat, and kneels at Raphael's side. He throws a false punch at his brother's face that Raph blocks and uses as an opportunity to seize Leo's wrist, flinging him down on his shell again behind Raph's head. Raph gets back on his feet.
Nice move, Leo thinks, catching his breath.
Raph doesn't come after him, waiting for Leo to stand.
Leo pushes himself up and says, "You didn't answer my question."
"It's pretty fucked up, you doubting my professionalism," Raph replies. "I'm not a kid anymore."
They start to circle each other.
"It's not like that," Leo says. "I have the same concerns about Donnie and Mikey. This kind of work requires you to stay detached from the situation enough to do your job effectively, and it's difficult to maintain that detachment. If looking at the case details upset you—"
Raph cracks a smile that's almost a sneer. "You talk like it's going to be a cake walk for you, not getting emotional. The only reason we're even doing this mission is because of your emotions."
"If the crime upset me to the point of distraction, I would avoid it, not run toward it."
Raph shakes his head. "You have no idea how this mission is going to make you feel or whether you'll be able to handle it. That's all I want you to admit."
Leo springs for his brother, hoping to get Raph on the floor again, and instead of stepping back out of his path, Raph grabs him in a bear hug that could easily allow him to punch Leo's sides or knee him in the groin.
"Just tell the truth," Raph says, looking into Leo's eyes. "You're as scared as the rest of us."
Leo tries to push Raph away, creates space between their plastrons, then throws a punch at Raph's head.
Raph lets him go and opens his arms in a gesture of neutrality.
"So you admit you're afraid," Leo says to him, looking at him and shifting his weight back and forth from one foot to the other.
A hint of amusement surfaces in Raph's expression. "I never denied I was."
"Then, why did you agree to do this?"
"Because it's the right thing to do," says Raph. "And you got a calling."
Leo stops moving. He feels a surge of—guilt?
"I don't want you or the others doing this just to please me," he says.
"When have I ever done anything just to please you?" Raph quips, smirking. "I said it's the right thing to do, and I meant it."
Leo looks at the floor, still feeling like a terrible leader for dragging his brothers into something they're afraid of.
"Hey," Raph says, taking one step toward him. "If we really wanted to veto this mission, we would've done it."
"Not if you thought I would go off and do it alone," Leo replies.
"You said you wouldn't. We believe you."
Leo looks at his brother, now full of the emotion he hates most: self-doubt. He doesn't know what to say, lifting his shoulders as if to physically prompt the words out of his mouth and dropping them in silence.
"I just want you to be honest with me," says Raph. "About the fact that you're scared too."
If Leo has ever admitted to fear out loud, it was in childhood, and he can't remember doing it. His brothers didn't start calling him their "fearless leader" for nothing. Of course, he's experienced fear throughout his life, just like them, but confessing to it has always seemed wrong. Not because he sees his own fear as weakness but because he feels he shouldn't burden his brothers with it. Fear is something Leo must conquer on his own, again and again. That's a fundamental part of being a warrior, a ninja.
Raph takes another couple steps toward his brother, all the fight now gone from his body and his face open and accepting in a way that's more Donnie or Mikey than Raph. "It doesn't matter what you're afraid of. I don't need to know. Just acknowledge that you are."
Leo opens his mouth and closes it again. The truth is, he hasn't allowed himself to feel any fear until now. He's been too wrapped up in disgust, disbelief, anger, and conviction. He knows what he and his brothers will risk to undertake this mission, but he hasn't dwelled on it.
Leo swallows, staring at his brother. "All right, fine," he says, his tone light. "I'm afraid."
Raph just looks at him as if Leo is a child who's putting on a brave face. He seems to be waiting for more.
"I don't know what else you want me to say, Raph," Leo tells him. "But obviously, we're done sparring, so…."
He starts to head off the mat toward the dojo entrance, not understanding why every important conversation he has with Raph ends up feeling like an argument even when it isn't.
Detective Max McGuire has her jet black hair cut into a short bob, the ends of which brush at her jaw. She's wearing black from head to toe: black jeans, black boots, a black t-shirt, a black blazer, and her golden badge gleams against her chest around a chain. She's not wearing any makeup, and her fingernails are short and unpainted. She has a pretty but hardened face with chiseled cheekbones and thick brows. She's striking—different somehow than all the women the turtles have met or seen up close.
When she sees them for the first time, their silhouettes in the shadows of the empty parking garage where they meet, she doesn't flinch or back away or look the least bit shocked. That's a first for the turtles.
"So, she wasn't kidding," Max says, when the turtles step into the light a few long paces away from her.
"No," says Leo, as he and his brothers come to a stop. "She wasn't."
"Well, you know who I am. Who are you?"
"Leonardo. These are my brothers Raphael, Donatello, and Michelangelo."
He points to each one as he names them.
"Did your giant turtle mother take an art history class in college?" Max says.
"Actually, we don't have a mom," Mikey clarifies, his tone weirdly cheerful. "I mean, I guess we had one, but we never knew her. Our father's the one who named us."
"Right. What do you want?"
"Did April tell you anything about why we wanted to meet with you?" says Leo.
"She said you're interested in the sex trafficking activities I've been working on the last three years," Max replies. "She didn't define the nature of your interest."
"Three years?" Donnie says, the sound of wonder in his voice strange to his brothers.
"What, you think this shit is new? It's been going on longer than I've been a detective."
"We'd like to help the NYPD deal with the problem," Leo tells the detective.
"How the hell would you do that?" she says.
None of the turtles respond. Leo gives her a pointed look.
"April said you're ninjas. She didn't say anything about vigilantism."
"We're not a fan of that label," says Raph.
"Unless you're offering to do research or become informants, I don't see what other word there is for what you're suggesting."
You said you've been working on this problem for three years," Leo says. "How many arrests have you made in that time and how many of those arrests led to convictions?"
Max hesitates, showing the first sign—however slight—of wavering confidence. "Not that many," she says. "Not enough."
"And have you seen trafficking activity increase, decrease, or stay the same over time?"
"The only direction the line on the graph goes is up."
Leo looks at her in silence for a moment, his brothers flanking him. "We care about this city, Detective McGuire," he says. "We always have. We've always done our best to help people, to protect them from criminals."
"Not to brag, but we totally helped take down the Foot Clan back in the 90s," says Mikey, grinning.
"We want these traffickers out of New York," Leo continues. "All we're asking for is information. Enough to help us know where to look for them."
Max snorts, crossing her arms against her chest. "You're fucking delusional if you think I'm going to risk my career to enable a gang of vigilantes, mutants or human," she says. "Good to know males are the same across species, though—with your idiotic fantasies of playing the hero, like you're in some god damn video game."
"With all due respect, detective, you don't know what we're capable of. I assure you it's more than what any given member of the police can do. And we don't even use guns."
Raph smirks.
"I really don't care what you can do with whatever weapons you've got," says Max. "You're four civilians. You have no idea what kind of people you're talking about dancing with. They're numerous, powerful, and the nastiest sons of bitches out there. If the feds can't get trafficking under control in one city, what the hell makes you think you can?"
"We're not suggesting we can wipe it out," says Leo. "We're just hoping to save as many people and take out as many traffickers as we can. Thin the ranks."
Max shakes her head, taking a few steps to her left with her arms still crossed. "You guys are something else. Thinking you can ask a NYPD detective for three years' worth of work so that you can go illegally, stupidly attack the most dangerous men in town and risk your own lives in the process. I hope April told you to fuck off before agreeing to speak to me on your behalf."
None of the brothers answer. They watch her, and she stares at them, her face unreadable.
"I think we're done here," she says, uncrossing her arms. "This meeting never happened."
"Detective," Donatello says, stepping toward her without going as far as Leo. "We're not trying to step on your toes, and we do respect that you're the authority on this subject. We don't want to do your job for you. We want to do ours. We may not be cops or work for the government, but we aren't civilians. We're ninjas. And we're turtles. We've been fighting crime in these streets for fifteen years. You just didn't know it. Think about that. All this time, you never heard about the four human-sized turtles who roam the city using martial arts to stop bad guys. If we're that good at hiding ourselves from the NYPD, don't you think we can keep doing it as we go after your traffickers?"
Leo suppresses a smile.
Max doesn't move or speak for several seconds, as Donnie looks at her. Then, she says, "I'll give you a certain amount of information on one condition."
"Name it," says Leo, feeling victorious.
"If you're ever caught, you deny any connection to the NYPD, and you keep my name out of your story."
"Fine by us."
She's quiet again for a beat, just looking at the four turtles. "I'll give April the info within the next forty-eight hours," she says.
Leo nods.
"Do me a favor and keep your activities to yourselves," she says. "I don't want to hear about any of it."
Leo and Donnie both raise their eye ridges at that.
"What I do want is any useful information you acquire," Max continues. "Names, locations, numbers—the kind that can I follow up on and use to build up my case."
Raph nods. "Roger that," he says.
She gives the turtles a last look, then turns on her heel and gets back into her car.
The next day, the turtles go through April's research together, piece by sickening piece. When they're finished, they scatter throughout the lair, too disturbed to speak of what they've learned. They train with hardly any talk. Splinter doesn't ask why.
Leo isn't exactly shocked when Donnie finds him on his favorite rooftop that night. Leo's been coming up here to think and be alone since he was a teenager. The building is just two blocks from the lair's main entrance, and thanks to its height, the roof provides an excellent view. Nobody else ever uses it, for some reason. Leo could sit here all night if he wanted and watch the sun come up. He's done just that a few times.
Donnie sits next to his brother, close enough for their shoulders to touch. Leo appreciates the contact. They sit together in silence for a few minutes, looking at the lights of New York City twinkling around them.
"Are you okay?" Donnie says.
Leo almost says yes. "I don't know."
Donnie doesn't respond, wanting Leo to open up to him but not knowing how to coax his older brother into it.
"I just can't wrap my head around…. what those women went through," Leo says, after a minute. "What they're still going through."
"I know," says Donnie, his voice quieter now. "I've been trying not to think about it. That's the only way we're going to be able to do this, Leo."
"I just can't believe—" Leo shakes his head. "I can't believe humans would torture their own kind like that."
Donnie has nothing wise or intelligent to say, so he remains silent, hoping his mere presence will comfort his brother.
Leo looks down into his lap. "I wish you and Raph and Mikey didn't have to know about this stuff."
Donnie looks over at Leo and feels a swell of emotion in his chest that takes his breath away. What's going on with him?
"We're not kids, Leo," he says. "If you can handle it, so can we."
"I didn't say you can't," says Leo. "I said I wish you didn't have to."
They're quiet again for a little while, each turtle feeling his brother's sad, heavy energy.
"If anybody ever hurt you or Raph or Mikey like that…." Leo says. He feels a painful lump rise in his throat and swallows it. "My heart would be broken forever."
Donnie thought Leo was going to finish that sentence with violence. What Leo admitted instead hits him in the gut. He turns his body toward Leo and wraps his long, lanky arms around his brother. If Leo is surprised by the hug, he doesn't show it, just grips Donnie's arm in his hand. Donnie rests his head on Leo's, and Leo leans into his brother.
"Mine too," Donnie says, almost whispering. He could cry, and he doesn't know if it's because of the idea of Leo's broken heart or of his brothers being sexually violated or because he hasn't heard Leo make such an intense emotional statement about their family before.
"I'll die before I let anyone do that to you," Leo tells him.
Donnie knows he means every word. He knows Raph and Mikey would die first too. So would he.
"Me too," he says.
This is why he has to go on the mission, Leo thinks. Doing nothing while those crimes happen in his city—to women and children—is not an option.
Donnie finally lets go of Leo and faces forward again, a little overwhelmed. The brothers don't speak for a long stretch, and they don't look at each other.
"Did you talk to Mikey?" Leo says, breaking the silence. "About his questions."
"Uh, yeah," Donnie says, sniffing. "Yeah, we talked. I think he's satisfied with the information I gave him."
"Good." Leo pauses, searching the distance. "He can't be distracted when we go out there."
Donnie debates with himself whether to tell Leo what he and Mikey agreed upon regarding their relationship. Ever since he and his little brother had that talk, Donnie's been thinking about bringing it up to Leo and Raph. It doesn't seem right to leave them out. His other brothers should at least get to decide for themselves.
"We, uh—we talked about what we're missing out on, being single…." Donnie starts. "Besides the sex. We identified a few a different components that would be nice to have and decided to try incorporating them into our relationship."
Leo turns his head to look at Donnie, forgetting about the mission. "Really?" he says, genuinely curious.
Donnie nods. "Physical affection, acts of kindness, and expressing our feelings about each other."
Leo blinks. "Oh," he says, and looks away again.
Donnie wasn't sure earlier if he was afraid of Leo's judgment or disapproval. Now, he's nervous, waiting for it. Prepared to defend himself and Mikey.
But Leo just sits quietly next to him, looking at the view, turning over the information in his mind. "If it makes the two of you happier, than good," he finally says. And something about the way he speaks the words strikes Donnie as melancholy or wistful.
"Leo," says Donnie. "You could join us. Mikey and I both think it could be a good way for all of us to improve our quality of life. I haven't talked to Raph yet…."
Leo grins. "Good luck with that," he interjects.
"If you ever get lonely…." Donnie continues. "This approach could help."
The purple-banded turtle dares to look at his brother again, his desire to help Leo overpowering his fear of rejection. He knows Leo gets lonely. All the turtles do. But Leo—he's the most remote of all the brothers, the hardest to connect with emotionally. Some part of Donnie has always been desperate for Leo to let him in, to let them all in.
Leo smiles faintly to himself, keeping his gaze trained on the city. Loneliness is one of those emotions he allows to wash over him like water. He's learned how to do it expertly over the years. His loneliness—and that of his brothers', whether they realize it or not—is about so much more than singlehood. It's the loneliness of mutants, of being a creature who doesn't belong in the world and never will. Nothing will ever take that away. The only way to live with it is to let it pass through you without wallowing.
Sensing Donnie's hope that he agrees to this social experiment, Leo says, "How would it work?"
"However you want," says Donnie. "Each relationship is unique. You get to decide how you want each one to be. How much and what kind of touch, how often you tell your brother what he means to you…. What kind of nice things you want to do for him."
"Was this Mikey's idea or yours?"
Donnie feels his face warm. "Mine," he says.
Leo doesn't speak again for a bit, contemplating the strange and totally unexpected proposition. He's always known his family loves him, and that knowledge has been enough for him. He's never really thought about love or his emotional needs beyond that. He doesn't know if Donnie's experiment will make him feel any better, if he needs any of those extra things.
But he can tell that Donnie wants him to give it a shot. So, Leo says, "Touch, kindness, and talking about our feelings, huh? All right. We can try."
Donnie smiles softly. "If you change your mind at any point, it's okay."
"I know." Leo chuckles under his breath. "Man, I can't wait to see you bring this up to Raph."
Donnie isn't exactly looking forward to that, but he expects less resistance from his red-banded brother than Leo and Mikey seem to.
"If you want something specific from me, please ask," Leo says. "Whatever it is. I won't judge you even if I turn you down."
Donnie's touched by the straightforward invitation. "Same to you," he replies, his tone even softer than before.
Leo pauses. "Thank you. For checking on me."
Donnie lays his hand on Leo's thigh, just above the knee and gives his brother a nod.
Mikey decides to fall back on his tried and true remedy for emotional distress: skateboarding. He takes his board into the sewer tunnels alone, comforted by the familiar sounds of dripping water and the wheels rolling over cement. He doesn't hum the way he would if he was in a good mood, nor does he practice any of the tricks he's perfected since adolescence. He just glides through the darkness and the puddles, letting his mind grow quiet the way it does when he meditates.
He had to get out of the lair—not just to clear his head on the board but to get away from his brothers and their own brooding energy. It's bad enough when one of them is upset, but all three? Mikey can't stand it, and he's in no mood to play his typical role as the turtle who cheers everybody up.
He wishes he could forget what he saw and read in April's file. He wishes he could go back to the days when the only kind of enemy he worried about was a Foot thug with piss-poor fighting skills stealing TV sets out of the back of a truck. He doesn't want to think about women being captured, kidnapped, and raped. Every time he does, he feels nauseated and depressed. He can't seem to find anger or a desire to punish the men responsible. Maybe if he could, it would be easier to face this mission.
Mikey could talk to Leo, ask him to call the whole thing off despite Raph and Donnie agreeing to the mission. Maybe Leo would listen to him if Mikey poured his heart out and begged. But Mikey saw the look in Leo's eyes when the eldest turtle spoke of the mission, felt the quiet conviction rolling off his brother in waves as he petitioned April. Even if Mikey could trust that Leo wouldn't go out there alone—and he's not entirely sure he could—he would still have to deal with feeling bad about holding Leo back from something he believes in.
"Man, this sucks," Mikey says out loud, rolling to a stop on his skateboard.
He hears tires rolling over the asphalt on the street above him, and a terrible feeling sucker punches him in the gut. He sees the sunlight shining through the sewer grate a couple paces ahead of him and almost doesn't want to look.
But he must.
Mikey picks up his skateboard and carries it to the grate, acting on instinct. Whoever's up there can't know he's down in the sewer. He climbs up onto the wall ledge and peers through the grate.
At first, all he sees is a van on the opposite side of the alley, black and nondescript, tinted windows too dark to see anything or anyone inside. Another vehicle arrives from the opposite direction, pulling right up to the van's nose. Another black vehicle with darkly tinted windows and no distinguishing features that Mikey can see. It's an SUV.
A white man gets out of the van, and a man with dark hair and olive skin gets out of the SUV. They speak quietly enough that Mikey can't hear them well, not with the NYC noise pollution that continues nonstop despite the late hour. The foreboding feeling in his gut intensifies, and he doesn't know why.
He watches as the two men move to the side of the van facing Mikey, and the drive opens the door. The two men look into the van, blocking the open doorway from view….
Long, dark hair suddenly cascades over the white man's shoulder, along with slender white arms. A woman. A woman who isn't showing any signs of consciousness. Mikey can't see her face.
The brown man leads the white man back to his SUV, and the white man carries the woman over his shoulder. The brown man opens up the SUV's trunk.
Mikey feels panicked. His eyes dart wildly all over the sewer, looking for a manhole but not finding one close enough. He'll have to go back to the last one he saw, which must lead to the street adjacent to the alley.
He leaves his skateboard below the grate and runs to that manhole cover, not even stopping to consider he might be seen coming out of it. He pops up through it and onto a quiet one-way street, then bolts for the alley way.
He catches a glimpse of the woman right before the men shut the back of the SUV.
Mikey surges forward and pounces on the driver of the SUV before the man can get back behind the wheel. The man's got no idea what hit him, and Mikey wastes no time turning him onto his back and jabbing at his face once, twice, three times.
The headlights on the van come on, streaming into Mikey's face, and Mikey pauses long enough to look up and see the van's driver gawking at him from behind the wheel. Mikey doesn't want him to get away, but the man underneath him is still half-conscious. And the woman's in the SUV.
Mikey punches the SUV driver again, the man's face already bloodied and bruised, then hops onto his feet as if to run for the van.
The van's driver throws the vehicle into reverse and backs it all the way to the other end of the alley, tires squealing. Mikey doesn't run after him, knowing it's pointless. The van backs into the street and speeds away.
The SUV driver grabs at Mikey's ankle, throwing the turtle off balance enough that Mikey flips forward onto his hands and back onto his feet. The man is disoriented enough from Mikey's head shots that he moves slow as he gets onto his knees and attempt to stand, bracing himself against the SUV. He dropped his keys when Mikey throttled him, and he seems to search the ground at his feet for them before meeting Mikey's gaze and glaring at him with a venomous expression.
Mikey freezes for just a moment, unsure what he's supposed to do here. He could kill him with blunt force, but he usually doesn't kill an enemy unless he's forced to do so in self-defense. If he doesn't kill him, chances are the guy gets away even if Mikey leaves him unconscious before fleeing with the woman.
Mikey roundhouse kicks the man into the side of the SUV, and the man grunts, the air knocked out of him. Mikey kicks him again and again in the belly, and the man's knees give out underneath him. He slumps to the ground, still conscious, and Mikey unleashes one set of nun chucks, using them to hit the guy in the face.
The man collapses face down on the ground, and he doesn't move. Mikey waits to make sure the man is going to stay down, then goes around to the other side of the SUV. He checks the glove box for zip ties and sure enough, the man has several stashed in there. Mikey binds the man's wrists behind his back with the zip tie and leaves him where he landed. He sees the key to the SUV gleaming silver a few feet away and picks it up, using it to unlock the trunk.
The woman is still unconscious. Mikey pushes the sleek, black hair out of her face and looks at her. He checks her pulse and finds it strong and steady. She's got her hands bound in front of her. She has to be twenty-something years old. He checks her pockets for any form of ID but doesn't find any.
Mikey picks her up gently and starts walking toward the street where he came up. He's shaking, he realizes. He waits at the mouth of the alleyway until the coast is clear, then takes her down into the sewers.
"Guys?" Mikey calls out when he enters the lair.
All three of his brothers know instantly that something's wrong. Mikey's voice sounds all wrong. Raph quits shadowboxing, Donatello gets up from his lab chair, and Leo emerges from the dojo.
"Mikey?" Raph says, before he sees his youngest brother.
Donatello gets to Mikey first and stops dead in his tracks when he sees the woman that Mikey lays down on one of the sofas. Leo sees Donatello's shocked expression and posture before he sees Mikey, and once he's close enough to the living room, he follows Donnie's gaze to the woman. Raph comes up behind Leo, the two of them not far from Donnie, and freezes himself when he sees what Mikey's brought home.
Mikey looks up at his brothers with an apologetic face and glistening eyes, and it's like his brothers have been transported back in time fifteen years, to the night when Raph brought April to the lair.
"I'm sorry," Mikey says, sounding like he might cry any second. "I didn't know what else to do. She's not waking up and these guys had her in the back of a van and I think they were going to take her away and…."
His brothers all rush toward him, Donatello moving fastest. Donnie kneels at the woman's side to check her pulse, while Leo seizes Mikey by the shoulders.
"It's okay, Mikey," Leo says, looking into his eyes. "You did the right thing."
"Vitals are good," Donnie announces. "She must've been drugged. No sign of head trauma."
"Are you hurt?" Raph says to Mikey, a hard edge in his voice.
Mikey shakes his head. "I'm fine, I… left one guy tied up in an alley. The other one got away. It was just two of them, it wasn't even a fight…."
Leo's eyes light up. "You caught one?" he says. "Where is he?"
Mikey hangs his head, his legs weak under him.
Leo shakes him a little. "Mikey."
"Six blocks west, three blocks north," Mikey says. "The alley's on the west side of the street."
"Leo," Donnie says.
Leo looks down at his purple-banded brother.
"We need to get this woman to a hospital," Donnie tells him.
Leo nods. "Okay. I'll call Detective McGuire."
"Mad Max?" says Raph. "What the hell you calling her for?"
"Because, Raph, she needs to know about this. She needs to pick up the guy Mikey caught and she needs to know where we take this woman, so she can talk to her about what happened."
Mikey sniffs, tears finally spilling down his cheeks, and Leo looks at him. Raph and Donnie look at him too.
Leo pulls Mikey into a hug. "It's gonna be okay," he says to his youngest brother. "You saved her, Mikey."
Mikey curls his arms up and around Leo and weeps into his big brother's shoulder.
Raph watches him with mounting anger, as Donnie stands up on Leo's other side and looks at his two hugging brothers.
"It's gonna be okay," Leo says again, then pulls out of the hug and passes Mikey to Raph.
Raph takes Mikey in his arms, as Leo steps away to call McGuire. Mikey continues to cry without trying to stop, clinging to Raphael. Donnie watches them, at a loss for what do or say. He glances down at the woman passed out on their sofa, then back up at his little brother who's more upset than he's been in recent memory.
"You did good, Mike," Raph says to his brother, rubbing Mikey's shell a little and making eye contact with Donnie. "You're a fucking badass taking on those creeps alone."
McGuire doesn't say hello when she answers Leo's call. "Detective Max McGuire, NYPD. Who am I'm speaking with?" she says.
"Detective," says Leo. "This is Leonardo. From the other night."
She lowers her voice to a murmur. "I should've told you never to call me directly. If you're looking for the information I promised you, I said I would give it to our mutual contact within 48 hours. I'm not late."
"My brother just saved a woman. I can't say for sure, but it looks like he stopped a trafficking deal from going down. One of the men is still at the crime scene, and he's not leaving on his own."
McGuire is silent.
"We're taking the woman to the nearest ER," says Leo. "She's unconscious, but when she wakes up, I suggest you talk to her."
"What hospital?" McGuire says.
"St. Luke's."
"I'll meet you there and take her in. You better hope she doesn't wake up. Text me the location of the crime scene."
The call disconnects.
The brothers wrap the woman in a soft blanket and load her into the back of their truck. Mikey sits with her head in his lap, and Raph stays with them, looking at his brother's mournful face and wishing he could go back for the man in the alley. Donnie drives, and Leo sits in the shotgun seat next to him, silent and wound up.