A/N: TRIGGER WARNING: eating disorder, abuse, drug use

MIKEY

Rich scents of cheese and flour perfumed the air. Familiar chatter of a grand mixture of patrons bounced merrily off the walls. Light sparkled in through the plate glass window, making the sign glow. Deniangelo's Pizzaemporium. The most magical parlor this side of the Bronx.

He happily kneaded the dough until it was perfect pizza consistency. This glorious lump of dough would be his masterpiece. He had it perfect this time. He was sure of it.

The bell on the parlor door jingled and Mikey looked up to see Alli stroll in. Woot! She almost never visited him at work anymore.

He smiled as she sat down at the counter. She looked so grown up. He was super proud, sad, but proud. His little girl was her own woman now.

"One Alli-bird special." She chirped.

"Coming right up." He responded with a wink.

He turned around and opened the oven door, frowning. It was empty. Why?

Wait a sec. Shouldn't the ovens be back in the kitchen? Shouldn't he be back in the kitchen? The health inspectors hated it when he prepped anything at the sales counter. And since when did they have counter stools?

He shook his head to clear away all the pestering questions and turned back to Alli. "Sorry..."

The sight of her shoveling in slice after slice of a pizza that hadn't been there a minute ago pulled him up short. It was rotting with sour green cheese and garbage-collected toppings, covered in a thick layer of gray mold.

"Alli, no!" He knew from experience that eating a pizza in that condition was not a good idea.

But when he rushed forward to stop her, he hit an invisible wall, separating them.

"Alli don't. It'll make you sick."

But it was like she couldn't hear him. She just kept on eating, and the long-expired pizza kept regenerating, never running out of slices. The more she ate, the thinner she got.

He started screaming and banging on the barrier between them to no avail. She continued to melt away, rapidly dissolving into an emaciated, skeletal version of herself.

Mikey shot upright in bed, breathing heavily as the nightmare refused to fade from his mind. He immediately went into some of Sensei's breathing exercises, ones he'd never imagined himself voluntarily using back when he was a kid, to fight the panic down.

Beside him Denim stirred, looking at him with bleary, worried eyes. An expression that was fast becoming disturbingly familiar. "Mikey? Did you have another..."

"I'm good. It's all good. No problem." He immediately plastered a faltering smile over his face.

She didn't look convinced.

"Hey, how about some breakfast? I'm feeling some chocolate chip pancakes." He tried again, with more genuine enthusiasm this time.

She groaned and rolled over to check her phone on the nightstand. "Do you know what time it is?"

"No prob. I'll just keep the food in the warmers for when everybody gets up." He was already bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet as he threw on whatever clothes he could find scattered around the room in the darkness.

Denim flopped back against her pillow. "Remember, Jem..."

"...has declared some unholy war against chocolate chip pancakes. How could I forget? It's unnatural. Don't worry. He'll get his scrambled egg whites and turkey bacon."

It was fine. Mikey was fairly sure he'd cracked the code to making his son's request palatable using only spices and seasoning. There was no way Jem could object to that.

He scurried down the hallway and flicked on the kitchen light. Within minutes, he had his phone set up, playing his favorite tunes as he danced around the room, collecting bowls, utensils and ingredients.

The familiar smell of good food chased the bad dream away. The real-life nightmare of it still stuck with him, one he couldn't fully understand even now. It was impossible to wrap his mind around choosing not to eat. And all because she said she didn't look good enough. She was so beautiful, just like her mama. How could she not see it?

When he was a kid, he'd survived exclusively on worms and algae, but, despite their best efforts, there never seemed to be enough. Even though he suspected his brothers and father had allowed him more than his fair share, many nights, he'd fallen asleep with his tummy aching from hunger. It had been awful. How could anyone want that? How could he protect her from it?

The bacon sizzled, eggs whisked and batter mixed, bringing to mind joyful memories Saturday mornings, laying out breakfast picnic style in front of the TV and curling up with the kids for cartoons.

To his immense disappointment, they'd all grown out of cartoons. Who grew out of cartoons? It seemed wrong.

At least there was that glorious window of time in middle school when Jem had played video games with him, before he'd gotten 'too busy.' Maybe Mikey should have toned down his victory dances. Or amped them up. Could a little more flair tempt his son back into gaming? He could try costumes. Or pyrotechnics.

Too bad, the family business took up so much time. It was his dream job and he loved it, but it was difficult to justify spending time on cartoons and games if he wasn't bonding with the kids. Sometimes adulthood could be a major bummer.

Then Denim shuffled into the kitchen, seeking the pot of coffee he'd started brewing more by smell than sight. In her oversized t-shirt, baggy pajama pants, hair sticking out all over the place, she looked amazing. Sometimes adulthood could rock.

He danced over to her, swaying her hips with one hand in time to the music as he tapped her on the nose with the batter-covered, wooden spoon.

She chuckled and leaned back into him, so he could lick the batter off. "You know it's gonna be ok, right?"

He smiled. "Yeah. Anton and Yuuta will keep her on track."

Denim sighed. "At least she'll listen to them."

He nuzzled her neck. "Aww, she listens to us. Or she hears us. Maybe. Do you think we should start using sign language with her too?"

Denim swatted him, but wasn't actually trying to shoo him away.

He snuggled deeper into her. "You're right. It's all cool. She's great and I'm sure it's gonna be a super-awesome-fantastic day."

ANTON

He'd be hard pressed to say exactly when it happened. After all, he'd known Allison Kyle Sanders-Hamato since she was three and a half. Because the half was as important to her now as it had been nearly sixteen years ago. Antonello sighed as he lay staring up at the star-shaped soft light that dimmed and brightened in a colorful rotation on his ceiling. It came from the silly pillow nightlight stuffed turtle she'd gotten him for no real reason. It was stupid. But he kinda liked it.

His jaw worked like he was chewing on his tongue. Maybe he was gnawing on it, biting back the words he'd kept to himself for so long, too long. No, he couldn't say exactly when it happened, but it'd been a long ass time ago, he knew that much. And it messed with his head, because it might be wrong. No, it was. It had to be. His Uncle Mikey would be pissed. Wouldn't he? What about Aunt Denim? And what would his own mom and dad say? Or the rest of his family for that matter? He rolled to his side with a huff. Grabbing his pillow, he punched it a few times before plopping his head down in the fluff. Why wouldn't these shit feelings just go away? Useless, stupid, shit feelings. And if they were gonna stay why couldn't they be for someone else? Why her? Why Alli?

Heaving a sigh, he closed his eyes and the night replayed itself for the hundredth time…

"How many you got?" Anton eyed his rat-uncle who was staring at his cards. "I got four, maybe five. How bout' you?"

Yuuta stroked the short tuft of brown hair swirled with white at his chin and a pang shot through Antonello's chest for the way it reminded him of Sofu. How he missed his grandfather. If it weren't for Yuuta's jade eyes, his mother's gift to him, he might be the spitting image of the Hamato patriarch. Then again Yuuta was mute and a bit shorter tempered than their late mentor.

"Well come on, sometime tonight. Count your books already!" Antonello barked, shifting uncomfortably in the straight-back chair. He eyed the beer their host had given him. One more reason he wasn't sure how he felt about the guy. He should like him for the free beer, but then again was he giving that shit to Alli? At 21 himself, he and Yuuta were legal, but Alli had two years to go yet.

Yuuta lifted an eyebrow, then drew the two furry tufts together as he eyed Antonello. His gaze followed Anton's to the turtle mutant sitting to his left, across from Alli on his right.

Spot, he was called, Alli's latest boyfriend, was a spotted turtle mutant. The dude was black with gold dots all over his carapace and skin. He had these big round brown eyes that kind of reminded Anton of his uncle Mikey and Donnie at the same time. They were the shape of Mikey's but the color of Donnie's. Either way, they were all Alli had been gushing about for the past two weeks. Yuuta waved three fingers in front of Anton's face.

"What?" Anton snapped, blinking himself out of his daze.

Yuuta huffed and waved his three fingers again.

Crap. I just got caught staring at Lil Buddy. Damn. Never mind, play it cool. He leaned back in his chair a bit. "Oh. You got three books?"

Yuuta nodded but his expression spoke for him. Anton recognized his uncle's version of, "What the hell, dude?" Although it usually involved him shaking his head or holding up both hands. Not this time. But Yuuta had Anton's number years ago. Because that was how long it had been since Antonello Hamato had fallen for her—Alli-his— cousin?

He swallowed hard. Even if she was adopted in or by marriage or whatever, they grew up together. He knew everything about Alli, and he'd always been a sucker for her. Like the time he and Yuuta took turns trying to get her toddler ass to stop crying about her mom- the same night he'd had his first premonition. She'd only been able to sleep when she'd draped an arm across his face and he hadn't been able to sleep at all. Every time he moved she woke up and started bawling all over again, so he'd laid there miserable while she slept.

Then there was the time he and Yuuta had sacrificed themselves to the jerks who'd kidnapped her and damn if he hadn't suffered for that. But he wasn't sorry. He'd done the right thing. No doubt. As much as he wished that whole thing had never happened, he wouldn't change how it played out because it had saved her.

He'd defended her tiny ass on the playground countless times over the years. But after she started training she hadn't really needed him. He'd been proud of her, fought beside her… Allison had been a force in his life for as long as he'd known her. He knew every scar on her and exactly when and how she got them. Hell, he was there for most of'em.

But, she called him and Yuuta her best friends. He was in the friend zone. And, biologically related or not they were in the same family.

So, there he was, playing Spades while loving her in Spades. And she'd never know it.

"Anton, are you okay?"

Her voice.

She was talking to him and he had to look at her. And Gods she had grown into the most beautiful thing he could've ever dreamed of. Her foot brushed up against his and he half wondered if she hadn't been searching for Spot's and just found his, but there she was nudging his shin with her sock-covered toes.

"Antonello?" she called to him and he slowly pulled his eyes from his cards.

"Yeah, I'm good." He avoided looking into those deep blue eyes of hers, they were as dark and true as a late summer sky before a storm. But those eyes didn't end there, there were these other shades of blue within the blue, like starbursts of navy and cornflower like the crayon. Within those sprays of color and light were specks of gold. Her lashes were long sweeping flashes of red, tiny freckles dotting her fair skin just beneath her eyes. Her nose was straight, if not a little narrow above a perfect mouth, lips just right, though her lower was just a bit fuller with a tiny spot of red where a capillary would pop up from time to time, usually when she was anemic.

As those lips moved right then he saw the speck. His gaze automatically lifted to the corner of her eye where another would be depending on how bad she wasn't taking care of herself. Because she wouldn't notice. She'd feel good from doing right by herself then she'd let the vitamins slide. Then there'd be one of her weird diets and she'd start losing weight.

As the tiny red speck starred the corner of her cheekbone he looked to her hands and began counting them, because that's where the majority often were.

Dammit.

"Anton?" she waved her hand in front of him. "Hey, Bruiser, you okay?"

He near flinched at the pet name. Yuuta didn't even have one of those, only him…

A stabbing pain jabbed him in the most tender muscle in his chest, tucked right beneath his plastron where it should be safe- yet it was the most vulnerable part of him. He straightened in his chair. He couldn't do this. Not again.

Lifting up enough to get his phone from his jeans pocket he checked the time. "You know, I've got a class to teach in the morning, a test to study for and a paper to write. I think we're gonna haveta fold on this one." He stood up, polished off his beer and dropped the bottle in the recycling.

"What?" Spot groaned. "Man, that sucks."

Yuuta was squeaking as he tossed his cards on top of Anton's, but he was following his lead.

"You're quitting now?" Alli dropped her cards and stood up, following them toward the front door. Yuuta signed that he was going to the bathroom. Anton waved him off, trying to decide how he was going to handle Alli's falling off the wagon this time. As he tugged on a shoe she started in on him.

"What's going on, Anton? You've been in a daze all night and now you're walking out on a game?"

He ignored her, diligently tying his laces as he wished Yuuta would hurry.

When her fingers closed over his hand, colder than they should be because the damn apartment was hot, he wondered how he hadn't seen it sooner. How long? Why hadn't he been paying attention? Then again, he'd been avoiding her because he was sick of hearing about Spot.

"You actually forfeited our favorite card game." She squatted down beside him, her long red braid draped over a too thin shoulder. He turned his head slightly, had to hold his breath for the scent of fresh peaches that always seemed to accompany her. Gods how he loved the way she smelled. Like his tongue, he'd been holding his breath for years too. Every time he'd hugged her, held her while she'd cried over one thing or another. Then there were the times he'd rather not remember that he wished he could forget.

"What's wrong, Anton? Talk to me. Are you okay?" She rubbed his forearm. "I'm here if you need me. You know that, right?"

He forced a breath and the damned scent of her shot through him. His jaw opened and the insults poured out the way they would if it were his mom and dad arguing. It wasn't like he planned it. It wasn't what he meant at all. It for damn sure wasn't how he felt. But there it was…

"I'm fine. How bout' you, huh? How longs it been since you took your meds?" He straightened, stood over her, unflinching at the stricken expression on her pale face. "Huh, Alli? And what's your excuse this time, hmm? Is it Spot? Huh? What? You not thin enough for Spot? Is that it? You know what, it ain't me with a problem that needs somebody to come to, it's you. And how bout it ain't me that tries to fix you this time, huh? Especially since I ain't never the one that breaks ya." He leaned into her, so close her nose near touched his beak as he peered into her bright, tear-filled eyes. He'd regret it later, but hurting her numbed the hurt somewhere deep in him. In that place- he didn't want to think about. "Yer gonna haveta lean on Yuuta for a change. I can't go through this again."

Her eyes spilled over, fat tears slipping down her cheeks and he wanted to wipe them away, take her in his arms. Instead he swallowed hard and backed away, turned and walked out the door.

Yuuta caught up to him on the street, squeaking and waving his hands around. Anton kept walking, blinking hard to keep his own tears from falling. One thing he and Alli both were, was passionate people. He'd never deny that. But he'd be damned if he was gonna cry about her where anyone could see.

Yuuta's tail wrapped around him like a belt, spinning him around. His eyes were wide, his hands frantic.

"She's Spots problem, not mine." Anton held up a hand, refusing his uncle's demand to go back and talk to her. He let the whole signing of, "Dude why're you being such a dick?" go too.

When he turned his back on his uncle, Yuuta's tail snapped across his ankles like a whiplash and Anton's blood ran hot. He wheeled on him, jabbing a thick green finger in his face. "I don't want to talk to her. I don't want to think about her and I'm through trying to save her from herself!"

Yuuta glared at him, his hands jerking around in sharp motions to express his frustration. "I know you love her but this isn't going to fix that. It's only going to make everything worse. You have to help her. We have to help her. Before she hurts herself."

"I'll call her parents. Let them take care of her. Hell, you can do it. I can't-" Anton threw his hands up and shook his head. "I can't do this anymore."

His uncle, against his better judgment, put a paw on Anton's shoulder. Guiding him around to face him, Yuuta shook his head. His signing was more fluid now, perhaps sympathetic but by the set of his jaw, still stern. "Then you have a problem, because you're the only one she'll let help her and you already know that."

It was true. Sure, the three of them were close, but she came to him for everything. Even to talk about her damn boyfriends. She came to him about shit he didn't want to hear about too, girl shit, like her damn cramps an' other stuff girls should talk to other girls about. He exhaled through his nose. "I'll call Mikey. They'll take care of her." He stepped back and reached in his pocket. Empty. He checked his other. "Shit. I left my phone." He swallowed then flashed a tight grin at Yuuta. "Can you?"

Yuuta snickered then his hands were moving again. "No. You are going to have to deal with this. What are you going to do?"

Anton scowled. "Guess I'm going home without a phone."