Disclaimer: Characters and situations ripped screaming from copyrighted works without permission for my own amusement and no profit while others egged me on.
Warning: Original comic book universe, which means Raph cusses and it's not fun and games in the slightest.
Notes: Written for a fic challenge on LiveJournal, which involved taking characters from various fandoms who could potentially be living on earth in May 2004, and dropping them into the situations described in the movie "The Day After Tomorrow". Since the original post mentioned writing for old fandoms, I had to go back to my roots. And destroy them, apparently. I feel sorry for those of you who have me on Author Alert. ;)
The Ninja's Choice
"How long do we have, Don?"
Donatello pressed a few buttons on the small, handheld television, flipping between channels. CNN was showing scenes from around the world, one local station was dead, another simply displayed a warning graphic. Finally he came across one which still stubbornly remained on the air, broadcasting a chart of the giant wave's progress towards the coastline. "I'd say we have about four minutes, thirty seconds," he answered Michelangelo finally, after a few mental calculations.
His brother sighed and lowered his head, staring down into the water that was already pooling around their feet as they stood in the alley, watching the more normal citizens of New York City fleeing past in the streets. Water levels had risen already, and were rising further; they'd been forced to leave their home in the sewers hours before, and whatever they couldn't carry must now be completely submerged. Not that they'd bothered to carry much, for they knew what was coming, and that it was inevitable. Donatello had been following and researching the story since it broke, and though it hurt to have to be the one to explain, he couldn't hold anything back from his brothers.
Raphael had fought against it, as he fought against everything. He'd yelled at Donatello, even tried to punch him, before Leonardo told him to go cool off. Which, Leonardo noted after the fact, was not the best choice of words, given the news that Donatello had just broken.
Michelangelo was an optimist, normally; and where Raphael had reacted with anger, he'd reacted with disbelief. Global warming should raise the sea levels, sure - but if it was global warming, how did that lead to things freezing over? And there was no way it could happen so fast. There had to be some mistake somewhere, they had to be wrong. It couldn't be happening. But here he was a day later, seeing the seabirds fly overhead en masse and standing in rising water. The expression on his face was as broken as his brothers had ever seen him before.
As for Leonardo, he had taken it all in silently, and (aside from ordering Raph to take a walk) thought about it. There was so much at stake, but he knew his mind was not enough to save the world, and it was not his job anyhow - he was responsible for making sure his brothers got to safety. And one other...
"We're turtles," Michelangelo had said, desperation in his voice, once it finally began to sink in that it was really happening. "We can survive the wave when it hits - we'll just go into our shells! And we can just stay there, till it's past, and then, well, we'll figure out something-"
"But what about Master Splinter?" Leonardo had quietly interrupted, and Michelangelo had fallen silent.
Now Splinter stood with his four students in the alley, somehow watching the scene of panic in the streets with his usual calm. Leonardo and Raphael stayed at his side, a display of stubborn loyalty. He sighed softly and looked up to each of them in turn.
"I appreciate your devotion, my sons," he said softly, and Michelangelo and Donatello turned to hear what their sensei had to say. "But I am in my late years already - very late years indeed for a rat. The four of you are young, and strong."
"We're not leaving you, Master Splinter," Leonardo stated, and his brothers nodded their agreement.
"I have lived a very full life," Splinter insisted. "I have seen things and done things far beyond the knowledge of any other rat that has ever lived. Could you possibly say otherwise? My time has come, my sons - I am only grateful that we have had this long together."
"And where would we go if we left you here to die?" Raphael asked, throwing up his hands and raising his voice in frustration. "Out there, try to get someone to let us into their buildings for shelter?" He pointed at the crowds in the streets, some of whom had turned to look at his outburst - those few who saw them now fled in terror of monsters as well as the impending natural disaster. "You think those people wouldn't just beat us to death for being freaks? Or should we defend ourselves and kill them with our weapons instead of the wave getting them?"
"We'd have to get behind strong walls to survive," Donatello put in. "Just because we have shells and are naturally aquatic doesn't mean we'd survive. When the wave hits, it'll be carrying enough force to crush cars."
"You see?" Raphael continued his ranting. "And even if we get through that wave, how are we supposed to survive that whole ice age thing? We're cold-blooded!"
"Raph..." Leo put his hand on Raphael's shoulder. "I know you're upset. We all are. But there's no need to yell at Master Splinter."
"Shut the hell up, Leo!" Raph snarled, shoving the hand away. "We're all totally fucked here - how can you be so damn relaxed?"
"Because there's nothing we can do about it - we're simply going to die," Leo replied, looking around at his unusual family. Donatello was watching the tiny screen helplessly, Michelangelo was slumped against a trash bin, looking despondant. "But at least we'll die together. We've faced death before, and this time it's only different because the fight isn't something we can face with our weapons."
This caused something to spark in his mind, and his eyes widened slightly. Raph's eyes caught his, and the look of anger changed into something more somber. "...I thought about that too," he muttered, turning away in almost knee-deep water. "When I took that walk. Would've been easy to just not come back, to not have to watch it happen. But I didn't want you guys to..."
His voice trailed off, and Leonardo placed a hand on his shoulder again. This time Raphael didn't push it away. "I'm glad you came back," Leonardo told him, his voice quiet and serious. "Don?"
"Eighty-ish seconds."
Leonardo began to slide his katanas free from the straps across his back, and Raphael removed his sais from his belt. As Donatello swallowed hard and Michelangelo bit his lip and straightened, Leonardo looked at Splinter, questioning; the elderly rat gave him a nod and a faint smile. It would be less painful than death by crushing or drowning for their sensei, and quicker than dying of cold for him and his brothers. And it was an old ninja tradition - honorable death in the face of inevitable failure. Their strange lives had been lived together, and so would they end.
...Because I've been getting a bunch of people asking when I'm going to finish this, I'll say it clearly - this was a one-shot. It is finished. If you can't figure out why it's a one-shot, think about it for a minute. ;)