Chapter Five
Agate

"balance"

Disclaimer: I do not own the series Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. Like, at all. It and all its respectable characters are © to Kevin Eastman, Peter Laird, and ViacomCBS and Nickelodeon. However, all writing contents and semi-plots here are © to me, unless it is stated otherwise. All shows/ books/ video games/ songs that are mentioned in this chapter are all © to their respective owners, I do not own them.

Summary: Life had been simple. Shay had moved out of LA to Montana's deep northwestern woods with her kids. She had a ranch and house. It wasn't perfect, but it was better than LA. Shay, however, hadn't planned on hosting a bunch of mutant turtles that stemmed from old comics, movies, or shows. Just how far will she and her kids go to protect them from their tight knit community?

Notes: I'm spacing out updates purposefully due to the slower writing processes. I recently attained a new job. I'm currently looking to move out of my current home to another place so that my ex-husband and I may spruce up and sell the house we own together. We wish to pay off debts and start up a savings account for our kids.

Quite a lot has transgressed since this story's start. However, not all is lost! I'm slowly building up profiles, story progression, closely monitored plot points, and more on a lovely little program called Dabble. It's been very helpful in organizing everything, and it has been infinitely indispensable as a result.

If any of you, my lovely readers, which for that kind of organization, then I kindly point you in Dabble's direction. And good god, I really wish I could offer cute little emojis to help further solidify my statements.

Anyways, enough from me already! On with the show! Go forth and enjoy~!

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"The ultimate measure of a man is not where he stands in moments of comfort and convenience, but where he stands in times of challenge and controversy."
— Doctor Martin Luther King Jr.

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It took nearly an hour to make it back to the house and then Shay spent the bulk of it waiting on Terry to arrive. When the dispatcher warned her of the wait time, Shay all but snarled at him to simply get Terry to her place. While she waited, fixed herself a drink.

By the time Terry finally pulled up in his squad car, the grey of dusky shadows had grown long, and the sky was on fire as the sun set. Shay sat up on her porch, her leg bandaged up, a beer in hand. The Polks were propped up against the bottom of the stairs, still out like lights and hogtied. Their hunting rifle was sitting beside Shay, the two pelts they'd already collected tucked against the wall beside it. Hemlock was hitched up to a post off the side of the house, nibbling at the grass that grew there.

Terry got out from the driver's side of his squad car and leaned on the doorframe. He eyeballed the Polks first, then Shay as she set her drink down and collected everything else. Dallas, his deputy and son, got out from the passenger side and whistled low and long at the sight. Shay limped down the steps, her leg dully throbbing as she moved. She gently laid the rifle down at the bottom stair, along with the fresh deer pelts and retreated back up a step.

"Howdy Sheriff Terry, Deputy Dallas. I popped the weasels, boys."

"Clearly," Terry remarked flatly, his light Texan accent low and husky as he studied the unconscious Polks once more. He scratched at his scruffy cheek, making a mental note he'd have to shave it later tonight. "Where'd you say you found 'em again?"

"I can show you or Dallas, don't matter much to me."

"I'm gonna need a statement first. Before I commit to who—"

"Whom," Shay interjected in a smart-aleck tone. Terry gave her a dirty look in the face of Shay's Cheshire cat grin.

"—who I tend to arrest and charge. I could charge you for grievous bodily harm, for one thing. Attempted manslaughter or homicide for another."

Shay scoffed in disbelief, her brows beetling in annoyance. "I wasn't the one who was aiming to kill. I aimed to disarm and that was after I tried to get them to come all peaceful-like. Even then, they left me no choice because they fired the first shots. The Polks are the ones who shot to kill, and in Jedediah's case, attempted to stab me to death with a hunting knife. Not to mention, they were poaching on private property, and oh, yeah, they were doing so illegally out of season. Do I need to mention the freak encounter with the wolverine again? I feel rather obligated to do so."

Shay made sure to emphasize on the criminality issues committed against her by the Polks. With every word that spilled from her mouth, every vigilant emphasis, she could see by Sheriff Terry's expression that he wasn't impressed one bit. Terry only grunted back at her, appearing quite apathetic on the matter. His deputy, on the other hand, watched with growing eyes as she listed off each crime.

"Funny. I see a great, big gaping hole in one of them Polks' legs. Who is that? Ishmael? Abel?"

"They'll be fine," Shay flapped a dismissive hand, rolling her eyes. "…with some corrective surgery…and maybe a replacement kneecap."

"Dad—er. Sheriff. She has a point. We all know the Polks ain't exactly…right in the head. Others out in Olney and Whitefish and more have had their own share of troubles with them. Might be able to pin something on them for once instead of circumstantial hearsay."

Sheriff Terry grunted at both Shay and Dallas, his face briefly turning a blotchy red against his usually doughy-faced complexion. It faded quickly as the gears in his head turned over. Shay leaned against the railing of her porch, waiting, unhurried or unconcerned. When Terry gave a defeated sigh, she right perked up.

"I'll need a statement from you. And you said you know where the rest of their illegal hunting kills are?"

"Better yet, I can show you."

"How far in?"

"Almost to the edge of my property out that way," Shay motioned, indicating in a vague direction somewhere behind her house.

The sheriff groaned and turned back to Dallas.

"Go with her and figure this out. I'll call for an ambulance to treat whoever it is that's got that big bloody hole in their leg. Be back here in less than an hour, you hear me? And Miss Leif, I expect a statement before all of this is done."

"Yes, Da—er, Sheriff. And I can take care of that statement while I'm at it, too."

Shay motioned for Dallas to follow and led him over to Hemlock. She undid his reins from the post and swung into the saddle first. Dallas got up behind her with a helping hand up. He gingerly placed his hands on either side of her hips and cleared his throat.

"Ready when you are, Miss Leif."

From the second story of the house, a pair of eyes behind a pane of glass watched as the sheriff moved in towards the porch, while Shay took off on Hemlock with Deputy Dallas away from the house.

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It was closing in on nearly nine-thirty at night before the last of the flashing lights had disappeared from sight. With them, the cops, ambulance, evidence, and Polks went away too. It was dark proper by then. As soon as Shay stepped past the front door—haggard, exhausted, and looking for a nice long hot shower— she was promptly tackled by her kids. She nearly went down but managed to grab the doorjamb and wall beside it just in time to steady herself. When she could stand on her own two feet, Shay managed to wedge the front door shut behind her.

"What was that all about?"

"Mom, are you in trouble?"

"Mommy—is everything going to be okay, you're not going to jail again, are you?"

It took a minute to settle Korra and Castiel down and by the end of it, Shay found herself laughing.

"No, I'm not going to jail again!"

"'Again'?" A new voice parroted, amusement and curiousity colouring their tone. Shay lifted her eyes up and laughed at Michelangelo.

"Bar fight," she said simply with a sheepish grin. "I threw the first punch, technically. Ugh. Fucking Terry, man. Don't think he likes me much."

"She was in the drunk tank all night," Cas added in a staged whisper. Shay hissed at him to be quiet.

"I was not in the drunk tank! They stuck me in a regular old cell because they said they smelled the alcohol on my breath, although the breathalyzer results were too low. But I-I swear, I was sobering up and drinking water so I could drive home safely before that fight even happened. The only thing they could get on me was instigating a fight and I made bail, finished the court appearances. God—how many times do I have to repeat this?"

"You were still in jail." He pointed out, although a hint of a grin was plastered across his face. Shay's frustration petered out almost immediately and she sighed instead.

"Ugh, fine. You're right, I was put in jail for inciting a fight and they tried to tack on suspicion of supposedly attempting drunk driving. Can't pretend or argue I wasn't drinking that night, but I beat all the legal crap though because I wasn't drunk, and I proved it in court. Mmkay?"

"But you're not going back, are you?" Korra pressed stringently, looking for definitive confirmation. There was tired reproach in her eyes as she looked up at her mother. In return, Shay suddenly realized she was on trial all over again, but this time with her kids serving as judge, jury, and executioner. It was unnerving as much as it was exasperating.

"No, no I'm not. I'm fine for the time being. But I got the poachers. Did you see that? Got the fucking Polks, finally!" Shay threw her hands up, fists balled, in a singular act of triumph and celebration. The brightness of Michelangelo's eyes alit at her excitement, and he laughed, offering a hand for her to high-five—or in the turtle's case, high-three. Their collective excitement came to a screeching halt at a new member to the party.

"We all did."

The grins on her kids faces vanished and their heads swiveled to look behind them. Leonardo stood beside Michelangelo; arms crossed over his chest. The youngest turtle's smile faded as he lowered his hand. He gave his oldest brother a side-eyed gaze as he took a sip from a can of Orange Crush.

"You could have exposed us. I thought you promised that wouldn't happen."

"The cops weren't coming in the house and I wasn't about to let them. Technically and legally speaking, they couldn't come in, not without a warrant and they sure as shit didn't have one. Terry's practically a sloth, and Dallas wouldn't have done nothing without his precious daddy's approval. You're all fine."

"For how long?" There was impatience and urgency lacing Leonardo's voice. She almost wanted to add in distrust to the list.

"For as long as I have air in my lungs. For as long as the charges against the Polks hold and stick with them. For as long as I can possibly hold them off if they try to weasel in any charges laid against me." Shay recited while ticking off fingers on one hand. Her hand dropped as she finished. "I told you before, and I'll say it again. I ain't a snitch. I won't let them find you. I made a promise, and I intend to keep it."

She wasn't entirely sure if the stare he pinned her with was meant to strip her down to the core or to kill her. It was unnerving all the same.

It was the same kind of stare she'd expect from a much higher-ranked Marine than herself to try and intimidate the answers out of her. Or to forcibly coerce her into admitting to untruthful things just to satisfy "perceptions are reality" ideals. They all wanted the same thing: something thick and juicy that could condemn the confessor.

It was, in all intents and purposes, a fucking Salem witch hunt.

I am so far beyond that bullshit tactic, I'm practically on Mars by now, she thought with a sour taste in her mouth out of sheer disgust. The look must have bled out onto her face. Leonardo narrowed his eyes at her, reserved displeasure crossing his face.

"Forgive me if your words have worn themselves thinner than they had been a day ago and I'm skeptical. You've proven yourself reckless and—"

"Dude, Leo, c'mon—"

"Mikey, don't."

"No, Leo, seriously—how can you stand there and lecture her about the things she does in her own place when we—"

"—Michelangelo." Leonardo interrupted more sharply, turning that piercing, scrutinizing stare onto his brother. "She isn't like us. We're putting her at risk just by being here, and in return, she's upping her chances of exposing all of us and we're more vulnerable than ever!"

Shay saw Raphael approaching behind the two of them a split second before he gave a hard shove into Leonardo's shoulder, throwing his older brother off balance.

"Leo, why don't ya do us all a favour an' shut yer trap? The chick's been dealin' wit' this poacher crap long before any of us got here. Now that they ain't here, we don't have t' worry about any pryin' eyes spyin' on us from th' woods."

Leonardo whipped around to face Raphael and it forced him to glare up at the taller turtle. Michelangelo skirted around the two of them, taking another gulp of his soda.

"If anythin'? Those hillbillies out there hidin' in th' trees woulda exposed us, sooner rather than later. I saw dumped animal guts all over th' place while I was out there. Saw th' huntin' they were doing. Th' fences they broke through. They been all over, Leo. Have ya seen that, too?" Leonardo said nothing and Raphael sneered at him, undeterred as he pushed on. "That's what I thought. So, lay off her."

Castiel and Korra alike squeezed around Shay's middle or her hands as they both held on to her. She instinctively squeezed back, quite nearly drowning in her surprise at the tense standoff. It reminded her that she wasn't simply watching a scene, she was watching something real.

For one long surreal moment, nobody moved at all. They were all suspended, frozen in time.

The loud, long, and lengthy slurp from a soda can broke the tension right in half.

Eyes turned to plant themselves on Michelangelo. Only his blue eyes ping-ponged back and forth between them all until he finished off his beverage. The moment he pulled his lips noisily away reminded him that he was still in the moment with them. He smacked his lips and crimped the can in his hand.

"What?" Michelangelo remarked, shifting his gaze around them all.

Leonardo shook his head, shot Raphael a dirty look, and stalked away. Raphael watched him go, waiting until he turned the corner that led to the other first-floor rooms. He settled his attention on Michelangelo and threw his hand out to rub the top of his youngest brother's head. In return, the orange-banded turtle laughed and ducked out of the way.

"Way to break the moment, Mikey."

"It's what I do, bruh. It's what I do!"

Michelangelo retreated, heading back toward the main living area. Castiel pinched his mother's arm and she startled out of her quiet reverie and patted him on the back.

"Hey, you two are supposed to be in bed by now."

"What about reading tonight?" Korra asked impatiently, to which her brother parroted back.

"Uh-uh. Not tonight. It's late. Get both of your asses to bed, y'all got school in the morning! Brush your teeth, brush your hair, and then I don't want to hear another peep from you unless a fucking Xenomorph or a Dalek is in your rooms. Go, go, go! Run, children! Run! Allons-y!"

Shay clapped her hands in rapid succession for emphasis, watching as the kids hurried off. Korra groaned, throwing her head back in lazy protest, while Castiel pushed her from behind to hurry up. The arguing began halfway up the staircase and carried on until Shay barked at them to knock it off. Their voices fell silent after that.

Only then did Shay feel as though it was safe to heave a sigh of relief. She shook her head.

"I swear, I love them, I really do, but they drive me nuts sometimes."

"Sounds like my dad."

Shay was surprised at the response and craned her head to look at Raphael. If she was being truly honest, she had expected him to disappear from the room as soon as Leonardo and Michelangelo had vacated.

"He sometimes had this look on his face when he thought we weren't looking. Same as you. Th' whole 'these are my kids an' they're doin' this dumb shit that I don't know how to handle right now' kinda look, ya know?" Raphael continued, motioning to her. There was a light smile threatening to crack his face right in half if he would only let it. The only sign of amusement he allowed free was a soft chuckle that burbled out from his throat and chest.

Shay refrained from saying anything. She was almost afraid to do so, to ruin the moment. Instead, she backtracked.

"Why did you defend me just now? I was under the impression that you hated my guts."

He met her gaze unflinchingly. The humour had officially left the building. She was, thankfully, braced for that inevitability.

"Because ya…" Raphael stopped, exhaled, and shook his head. "I don't…hate ya. Not really. An' ya kept yer word. Ya care about yer kids, but…ya also cared about not givin' us up. Cops were right there. Ya could've said somethin', anythin'. Ya didn't. So just…don't listen t' Leo, he's got an entire tree up his ass right now. I get it, though. He's worried an' wants to keep us all safe, like th' way ya are wit' yer kids. Just…don't tell 'im I said anything, all right?"

Shay stared at him, partially in admiration for his honesty and the other part of her was reassured. She mimed zipping up and locking her lips and then throwing away the key.

"Snitches get stitches," she finished off the entirety of it. The smile came back to him, and he uttered another indulgent laugh.

"Yeah, they do. Don't forget it, huh?"

Shay decided then and there that she liked his smile more in person than she ever did while looking at a computer screen.

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Shay's alarm went off at five in the morning, sharp. She groggily considered hitting the snooze button and rolling over. Her anxiety was quick to override her sleepier instincts and slowly she rose up from the mound of blankets spread across her bed. Evergreen rose up alongside her, a soft groan rising up her throat. A cat—she couldn't see who it was but suspected their identity—was quick to retreat off the bed and out of sight.

"Hey, girl. Haven't seen you most of yesterday. I missed you. You doing okay? Yeah, yes you are. You're such a good doggie."

She rubbed at the wolfhound's head, scratching her behind the ear. Evergreen tilted her head into Shay's hand with a contented sigh. She gazed up at Shay with utmost love and trust. Shay cooed at her, gave her a hug, then swung herself out of bed.

Her morning ritual commenced shortly after. She relieved herself, brushed her hair and pulled it back into a messy bun. She dressed in a simple attire of jeans, work boots, a tank top, and a graphic t-shirt that showcased a Xenomorph. Over that, she put on a semi-casual button-up blouse and left it open.

The kids still slept, and for the moment, she'd let them. She had her early morning chores to attend to before the day truly started. She made a detour to the kitchen as she came downstairs, grabbing a mixture of greens and fruits and other veggies topped off with a sprinkling of crushed eggshells. She tossed everything into a mixing bowl and stirred it all with salad tongs until Shay was satisfied it was thoroughly tossed. Cradling the mixing bowl, she moved on to the front door, sleep still clinging to her head like a fog.

She was waylaid, however, as she turned the corner leading to the front door, jumping as she registered that she wasn't alone. She nearly dropped the bowl, but managed to catch it and grip it tightly to her chest.

"Shay."

Leonardo stood beside the front door and seemed more ready to face the day than Shay did. She adjusted her grip on the mixing bowl, giving him an acknowledging nod.

"Can we talk?"

"If you can walk, you can talk. I have some early morning chores to get done."

He dipped his head in return. As soon as the door creaked open, the hurried patter and scratch of Chief alerted her to the dog barreling through the house. He zoomed out ahead and bounded away. Shay chuckled and followed him out the door, with Leonardo behind her.

The morning air had a chill to it, but she knew it would burn away when the sun rose to its zenith later. A light mist clung to the grounds as she worked her way toward the chicken coop. Already, the feathery girls were out in the little yard, digging at the ground or taking dust baths. Upon seeing Shay, they congregated around the gate in tight little clusters, clucking excitedly. One in particular was especially vocal in her pleasure at seeing Shay.

"Hey, girls, hey! Oh, my feathery little babies—no, no! Back it up, come on. Yes, hello to you too, Henrietta. I hear you loud and clear."

Leonardo hovered by the gate as Shay slipped through with her bowl of chicken feed.

"C'mon. You can help me feed them and talk with me at the same time."

The blue-banded turtle wavered, then eased himself into the enclosed chicken yard and shut the gate behind him. The birds, however, flocked to Shay. She was the one who had the food, after all. Shay began taking sparse handfuls and flinging the food into the throng of feathered bodies. They scattered with delighted clucks, hurriedly pecking up their food. Leonardo pinched a small amount in one hand and did the same.

A few small handfuls and tosses passed in relative easygoing silence. It didn't take long before they began flocking around Leonardo's feet as well, seeing that he now had food. The quiet spanned on longer and grew to the point that it began to make Shay uncomfortable.

She cleared her throat.

"Did you know that chickens have been traced as the closest avian descendants of Tyrannosaurus Rex?" Shay finally spoke to break the quiet.

"I didn't."

Shay politely waited for about three seconds before cautiously pressing on.

"Scientists have also been working on reversing them back to their roots through genetic modifications and genome splicing. They've actually managed to modify some test subjects while they were embryos to encourage the growth of their snouts to develop similarly to dinosaurs, including vestigial teeth in their mouths."

"That's…fairly interesting."

His tone was flat and unengaging. Shay quickly realized he wasn't going to be interested in her random factoids. She didn't really blame him. They wouldn't even qualify on a trivia-based game show. The silence came rushing back in. Halfway through the bowl, Shay tried again.

"I'm sorry if what I did seemed risky. Especially in light of the arrests yesterday."

"Shay—"

"Please let me finish." Shay interrupted. She breathed in deeply and let it out slowly. She continued tossing little handfuls out amidst the chickens. Leonardo said nothing else, waiting to allow her to continue.

"I work hard, I play hard, and most of all, I love hard. I love those two little goblins sleeping in my house and all the animals I care for. That snake endangered my horses and goats, even my kids if it stayed long enough. And those poachers endangered my family and all the animals I have on this property. I wanted to protect them above all else. But I'll admit that you were right last night. It could have gone a lot worse than it did, and I could have exposed y'all and for that, I'm sorry."

She cut herself off there, knowing if she kept going, she'd end up over-explaining and producing too much word vomit.

"I appreciate the apology. But I have my own to offer."

Shay perked in shock, her interest piqued, even against her best judgement. She held back on reacting, afraid of getting overly excited. Her patience was justly rewarded eventually.

"I clearly had no right to dictate how you conduct business on your own property or with your family affairs. I was out of line." Leonardo canted his head in her direction. "I'm…I'm sorry."

Shay dipped her head in return with a soft nod, unable to stop the smile that spread across her lips. "Thank you. I appreciate it."

A weighty tension she hadn't realized she'd been carrying lessened considerably. It was suddenly easy to breathe again.

"How's your leg?"

She automatically shrugged like a kneejerk response. Paused. Considered the question.

"Raph told us what happened out there. You were shot at."

Shay sighed. Of course, he did.

"It's a flesh wound. Didn't even need stitches. It could have been worse, and I know I got lucky. But in my defense, I told your brother I needed my own rifle for insurance. And in hindsight, I also told him I'd get to tell him 'I told you so' if they shot at me. And lo and behold, I was right. I needed the rifle more than my pistol. So…yeah."

"Clearly," Leonardo replied wryly, the faintest touch of humour colouring his tone. Shay chuckled back in earnest before turning her attention back to chickens still milling around underfoot. Shay dipped her hand back into the bowl, tossing out the last handfuls of food, then scooped the last crumbs out with her fingers.

"There you go, my chickadees. Eat up!"

Movement from the side caught her eye and she turned in time to see dark wings flying over the coop only to settle above on the protective mesh ceiling. She grinned up at the newly arrived bird sitting there, recognizing them.

"Tlitoo! Hey, buddy!"

"Hello," the bird replied, head jerking to the side as it peered down at her. "Hello. Fuck you. Hello."

Leonardo made a soft noise, similarly staring up at the bird perched overhead.

"Did that bird just…?"

Shay laughed, motioning for Leo to follow her with a pat on the arm. They slipped out of the enclosure and Shay locked the gate. A loud croak came from the dark bird. He hopped along to follow the pair, teetering on the edge of the fence. With a sudden flurry of his wings, he glided the short distance down to Shay's upraised arm, before hopping up to her shoulder.

"Leo, this is Tlitoo. He's my little wild birdie buddy."

"Is it a crow?" He replied dubiously. The sheer height on the animal had it several inches taller than the woman's head while perched on her shoulder. The bird pressed his feathery breast against Shay's head.

"He's a raven, actually. Crows are pretty small in comparison. And crows don't sound the same. Crows caw while ravens croak." Shay reached up and began scratching at the bird's breast and under his wings, fingers disappearing beneath layers of ebony feathers. Tlitoo gently met her hand with soft, playful nips from his large, imposingly long beak. "He got into a rather nasty tiff with a bald eagle about a year and a half ago. Watched the whole thing while me and my dad were out fishing on the Stillwater. We rushed across to get to him and it was a good thing too. He had broken his wing and would have drowned if we hadn't. I volunteered to foster him after the vet treated and cleared him. When he was better, I let him go, but he comes around often. So do his flock-mates. He spread the word that I'm a good human and helped him, so they bring me shiny trinkets as presents in return. They do that, you know. Communicate with their flock about the good and the bad people. It's really interesting as far as communal avian communications go and the sheer intelligence corvids possess altogether."

The raven tilted his head in Leonardo, considered him thoughtfully with dark eyes.

"Fuck you. Hello," the bird greeted after a lengthy pause. Leonardo frowned in return.

She laughed, an overly smug and proud look crossing her visage. "I taught him that."

"I never would have guessed." Leo replied glibly, his lips threatening to perk into a smile.

"Okay, smart ass. Tlitoo, sweetie, go wait for me by the porch. Go, go shoo. I'll make you some scrambled eggs with cheese if you do."

Those seemed to be the magic words he wanted to hear. Tlitoo ruffled his feathers, gave her the lightest peck on the cheek with his beak while making a kissing sound.

"Aww, you're a sweetheart, Tlitoo. Love you!"

"Love you," Tlitoo replied and without further preamble, the raven took to the sky, dark wings tilting as he veered toward the house. Shay watched him leave, then turned back toward the chicken coop.

"Could you help me gather the eggs, please? We can put them in this bowl and after that, I can start up breakfast for everyone."

The blue-banded turtle dipped his head in a nod, a thin smile pulling his lips upward at last.

"I can do that."

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