Chapter 13

Seven months later, September 21st; 11:42 p.m.

With his shell leaned against the kitchen bar, Leonardo calmly studied April as she stood with her face buried in her open fridge, rummaging through the crammed shelves inside it. When accidentally getting butter on her fingers, the woman subtly ran her hand across the grey cotton fabric of her sweatshirt, unaware of the turtle's attentive eyes. Looking over his right shoulder, Leo found his red clad brother impatiently fumble with the grocery bag in his arms, his brown eyes peeking out through the shadow of his fedora, darting restlessly across the room.

The hothead's body language practically screamed for the two of them to go home.

"All right," April breathed, casually swinging the refrigerator door shut with a dull whoosh. While scratching herself behind her neck - her fingers entangled in her brown locks - she turned around to face her two guests. "Well, I'd say that's about it," she surmised, handing over a twelve pack of eggs to Raphael, who used brutal force to shove it down the already stuffed paper bag in his embrace.

"Why don't I take that," Leo quickly suggested, slipping his right hand into the red masked turtle's grocery bag and snatching the package off eggs, saving them from what could have only resulted in an early demise.

Raph frowned as the older turtle neatly placed the item in his own bag, nonetheless he didn't say anything.

"I could get you another bag if you'd like," their friend offered, hiding her amusement as she watched the two brothers interact with each other.

"No, don't worry about it," Leo ensured the young woman. "We can manage. Besides," he added, looking at his friend with a warm smile, "one bag each is easier to carry." Turning to look at Raph, he then asked, "You ready to go?"

Raphael uncomfortably shifted the bag in his arms, an obvious look of irritation beginning to twist his features. "Stupid can's diggin' into my arm," he muttered, oblivious to his brother's question.

Accepting it as a good of answer as any, Leo turned back to April with a half smile. "Right," he concluded, glancing at their personal entrance window at the far end of the apartment. "We should probably head back."

April nodded in understanding, a faint look of relief breaking out on her petite features. "So, you sure you have everything?" she asked as she led them through the kitchen area, over to the dimly lit living room, where the faint sound of the television mumbled in the background.

"Uh.. I think so," Leonardo answered, not entirely certain. "What about Mikey's comic books?" he asked, turning to look at the turtle strolling next to him.

"Got 'em," Raph confirmed, patting his bag with one of his hands as if to prove the fact. "And Donnie's crossword puzzles," he instinctively added, answering the eldest before he even had a chance to ask.

Leo nodded to himself in relief, only to halt in his steps a moment later. "What about the toothpaste?" he questioned, staring at his brother with an unsure look on his face. "Did you get the toothpaste?"

After taking a moment to think about it, Raph shook his head from one shoulder to the other, "No."

"I'll get it," April instantly volunteered, leaving for the bathroom before either of them had a chance to react. "You just get yourselves out on that balcony," she called over her shoulder as she waltzed down the narrow hallway, shuffling her bunny flippers on the smooth surface of her laminate floors.

With a sly grin curving his lips, Raphael turned to look at his brother, standing a few feet away from the open window. "Think we should take the 'subtle' hint?" he asked, a thick layer of sarcasm dressing his words.

Leonardo couldn't help but smile at his brother, the corner of his mouth stretching by pure reflex.

An icy wind grabbed a hold of a used candy bar wrap, sweeping it across the cracked pavement like a dry leaf, dancing wildly in the air as if it didn't have a single care in the world. Without the faintest warning, a heavy foot tramped it into the ground, leaving it crumpled and lifeless on the cold concrete.

Leonardo carelessly strolled onwards, his firm pace matching his ally's to such a degree, it would have been eerie for any outsider to witness. But the few number of people that passed them on the sidewalk were too absorbed in themselves to even take notice to the peculiar brother pair that walked in the yellow atmosphere of the streetlights; both dressed in identical trench coats and fedoras, both carrying a grocery bag to their chest.

Cautiously peering up from beneath the parasol of his hat, Leo searched for the familiar rusty mailbox that told him of the left turn they had to make, in order to lead them to the desolated alley that held the particular manhole they were heading towards. People rarely passed there; it was one of the few places in the city where they could slip into the sewers unnoticed.

"Think they're still awake?" Raphael asked, causing the oldest turtle to flinch at the sudden sound of his voice.

"Huh?" he asked in surprise, turning to look at his red masked sibling. Raph sent him a knowing glare, as if to inform him he wouldn't ask the same question twice. "Uhh.. I don't know," Leo finally answered, slightly shaking his head to himself. "But we should probably keep it down, just in case," he decided, holding the paper bag closer to his clothed plastron.

Raph grinned mischievously to himself, keeping his focus ahead of him as he walked. "I bet'cha ten bucks Mikey's waitin' up fer his frozen pizza," he predicted, the extent of his smirk growing substantially on his face.

"What about Don?" Leo asked, turning to his brother with a similar smile. "Don't you think he's up drinking his cold cup of coffee by now?"

Raph chuckled briefly at the thought. "Naah, I dunno," he then replied, shaking his head in disagreement. "He looked pretty beat when we left. Damn idiot stayed up all night ta perfect the security system," he affably muttered under his breath.

The eldest nodded in response, shifting with the bag in his arms. "Yeah," he quietly agreed. "You know," he then added, turning to look over his left shoulder, meeting his brother's shaded eyes. "Sometimes I think he's doing things like that, just to keep himself busy. Not that I'm an expert or anything," he quickly added, "but I didn't know there was anything wrong with the old system."

Raphael shrugged indifferently at the theory. "Well ya know Donnie," he said, giving his brother a meaning glance, "always tryin' ta refine the perfect."

Leonardo nodded silently at the comment, noticing how his younger brother abruptly tensed in his stance. "What?" he worriedly asked, trying to find eye contact with his sudden distant brother.

The younger turtle promptly stopped in his tracks, his sharp eyes reaching beyond the calm of the street, scanning the graffiti covered building on the other side. "Check out Stacey's jewellery store," he mumbled, his vigilant gaze fixated on the barricaded windows of the shop.

Leo followed his sibling's stare, trying to look past the black checked wall of security bars. It was dark inside the closed store, but it didn't take long for him to detect a group of shadows hurriedly moving around in there, stealing whatever they could get their filthy hands on. The turtle felt his strangled heart sink to the pit of his stomach, a chilling sensation running up his rigid spine. He nervously held the grocery bag closer, willing for his self-control to return as he tore his gaze from the shop and turned back to look at his brother.

"Stupid punks," Raph grumbled, his dark eyes focused on the small shop, a hungry fire coming to life within them. "You'd think they'd break into some otha' store every once n' awhile," he said. "Jewellery are too damn cliché."

Leonardo nodded reluctantly, a part of him wishing his brother hadn't spotted the crime. It was no secret that he hadn't been out on the field since Donatello's near-death injury. Now, his brother was fully recovered, and Leo himself had made amazing progress since that tragic night he had meant to take his own life, thanks to his patient brothers. Out of respect for Leo's shame and guilt, Raph had unwillingly agreed to keep the terrifying incident between just the two of them, simply informing the others of the serious danger considering the leader's mental state, and that he needed their support and understanding to get back on his feet again.

There had of course been questions, and Raphael had been more than willing to answer them, saying the two younger ninjas had a right to know. But until Leo himself felt ready to answer the questions that would follow with his answer, he thought it best to keep the truth between the two of them.

In spite of the obvious secrets, his brothers had still been very supportive and kind, simply because all of them wanted what was best for their big brother, and Leo rarely found himself alone. It was as if there was always one person around to keep an overprotective eye on him. But even with the invaluable help of his family, Leo still didn't feel ready to join them on their late night patrols, simply because of the fear of freezing up in the heat of battle again. And not only didn't he participate in the nightly crime fighting, he didn't even carry his katana anymore, his precious spirit in steel that were given to him by his father and tutor. They represented a past he was yet to embrace, a future his self-esteem still didn't have the strength to be a part of. And so for the time being, they remained on the weaponry wall inside the dojo, openly hanging there to remind him of the day he would have to take them back.

The day he was to reclaim his destiny.

Aware of this, Raphael turned to look at his silent brother, trying to split his attention between the two matters. "Got any coins?" he absentmindedly asked, keeping one of his eyes locked on the store.

Brought back to the present issue, Leo clumsily let go of the grocery bag with his left hand, locking the bag between his chin and plastron as his free hand slipped into his pocket, fumbling for any round objects. Finding it empty, Leo hurriedly dove into the other pocket, the tips of his fingers bumping into a small group of cold and noisy coins. He quickly grasped them in his hand and presented them to his brother, who simply nodded in approval, appearing to be a thousand times calmer than Leo.

Swiftly looking around himself, Raph impulsively bent over and placed his groceries behind the concealment of an overstuffed trash can. He was quick to steal Leo's bag and put it next to the first one, shoving them closer to the wall with his foot.

Leonardo nervously fiddled with the collection of coins in his hand, knowing his brother wasn't planning for them to stand by for this one. He could almost smell the adrenaline that was building up inside his brother, filling the chilly midnight air like an invisible cloud of soaring tension, seeking his nostrils like airborne poison.

"A'right," the red masked turtle decided, pulling up the collar of his coat around his throat, hiding his abnormal features within the safety of the tattered garment. Piercing eyes were aimed at Leo, his gaze boring straight into his core with their surging intensity. "Well, I'm gonna teach this stupid fucks a lesson," he said, his voice low and controlled as he spoke. "You juz get yerself to the nearest payphone. I'll make sure they won't be able ta go anywhere till the cops get there," he instructed.

Relieved to hear he was off the hook, and yet worried for his brother who was not, Leo wordlessly nodded, sliding his hand back inside the pocket to release the coins. Raphael broke their eye contact when lowering his attention to his chest, unbuttoning the two lowest buttons of his trench coat to be able to reach for his sais more easily, assuming he might need them.

"Be careful," Leo said, his voice weak and hushed, and yet more lucid than any time before that.

The younger turtle looked up to meet his brother's stare with a bright spark in his darkened eyes, gleaming with impish anticipation. "Ain't I always?" he asked, the hints of a devilish smirk peeking up behind the collar of his coat.

Swift, graceful steps led Raphael across the cold rooftop, where dark puddles of water had been left behind by yesterday's unmerciful rainstorm. The tails of his bandanna was claimed by the chilling winds of the night, flapping them madly against the left side of his head, his intense stare unaffected by their bothersome touch. Finally, he reached the end of the rooftop and quietly leaned over, one of his hands gripping the cement frame of the edge.

Below, six stories beneath him, the backdoor of the shop stood open, informing him of the intruders' chosen entrance and exit. One hand instinctively curled around the handle of his sai, cautiously making sure it was still there. Then, after displaying a crooked smile to the moon, the turtle hurried to the other side of the rooftop, reaching the fire escape of the building.

He slowly climbed down the ladder, quietly landing on the rickety platform of the rusty, old object, knowing from years of experience how to descend them with a mute invisibility. Once there was just one floor left between him and the pavement, chattering voices emerged from within the darkness of the store, three black clad shapes stepping out into the unprotected open.

Hidden in the shadows of the fire escape above him, Raph grinned.

With a quick, soundless movement, the turtle leaped through the air, the ends of his mask flapping wildly above him as plunged to the ground. The simple bent of his knees allowed him to land on the concrete with nothing but a soft thud, professionally avoiding the small puddle of water next to him. He took a careful step back towards the wall, graciously melting together with the blackness, becoming one with the environment. Protected by the shadows, his hands caressed the worn handles of his sais as he spied on the trio of criminals, his adrenaline beginning to surge through him.

One soft step at a time slowly led him closer to the unsuspecting thugs, who were busy stuffing their profit into their pockets, joking amongst each other with naive cockiness. Like a lion patiently sneaking closer to its prey, Raph silently gained on them, never once stepping into the illumination of the moon. Finally, there was only a few feet between himself and one of the teenagers, who had hidden his face underneath the safety of the black hood of his sweater. As soon as the punk turned his back to the red masked protector of the night, Raph used the opportunity to make his presence known and step out of the shadows, mockingly patting the young man on his right shoulder.

By the time the thug turned around to scream at the sight, Raph had already knocked him unconscious with a powerful blow to his abdomen, his fist still tightened as the human fell to the ground. The loud thump of the body alerted the other two robbers, both of them turning around in surprise. Their expressions quickly transformed into fear once they spotted the armed figure in the hat and coat.

"The hell did you come from?" one of them managed to ask, taking a shaky step backwards.

"Does it really matta'?" Raph calmly wondered, his voice low and threatening as he reached inside his belt for his final sai, twirling it between his fingers in purpose to scare his enemies furthermore. He certainly enjoyed the ghostly look on their faces once they spotted the deadly steel in the pale moonlight, reflecting the gleam of the night.

One of the men managed to reach inside his warm coat for a weapon of his own, a small knife that he hesitantly unfolded in his unsteady grip, as if uncertain he would be able to use it.

With a movement so fast it was invisible to the naked eye, Raphael closed the distance between them with a kick to the man's wrist, sending his knife flying into the bricks of the wall, clattering against the concrete ground in the darkened alley.

The man said nothing, but simply stood there with his mouth gaping in shock, matching the size of his widened eyes. A short moment later, Raph whirled around and forced his right elbow into the stomach of the human, causing him to choke on a gasped breath of air and drop unconscious to the ground, his motionless body landing in a dirty puddle of water.

Turning his attention to the last thug, Raph masterfully played with his sais in his hands, deliberately scaring him as he approached him in the darkness; slowly, steadily.

Soon the man found himself backed up against the wall, his trembling palms pressed against the rough surface of the bricks on either side of his thighs, nervously grasping for non-existent help in the concrete.

"You picked the wrong day ta break into this place," Raph said, stopping right in front of the man, his own identity well protected by the shadow of his fedora. Silently, he reached his right hand inside his partly open trench coat, slipping one of his sais into the leather belt, keeping his eyes fixated on the teenager the entire time.

"C'mon, man," the punk stammered, caught in Raphael's piercing gaze. "We didn't mean anything by it. I'll put it all back, I swear," he weakly promised, fear written on his every movement, his every sound.

"Nice try," Raph replied, completely unaffected by the coward's plea.

"C'mon," the man nervously continued, shaking his head in protest, tears of desperation beginning to well up in his eyes. "I'm sorry, okay? Please, just... Don't hurt me."

"It ain't gonna hurt that much," Raph assured, but then smirked and added on a second thought, "Well, except fer when ya wake up."

Before the man had the chance to ask him what that meant, Raph tactically punched the man in the face, making sure he would still be there when the police came, making sure he would pay for his crime. Swaying to one side, the out cold thug collapsed to the ground, a bruise appearing on his right cheek once the skin scraped against the wet concrete.

Sliding his final sai into his belt, the ninja bent over to check the man's jacket for any concealed weapons. After all, one of them drew a knife on him. Foremost, he searched the inner pockets - his fingers fumbling blindly in the darkness - before moving on to the rest of the pockets and then finally his pants. To his great relief the man came out clean, so Raph rose to his full height.

He quietly wandered up to inspect the second thug, water dully splashing underneath his bare feet as he stepped in the puddles of the alley. Once reaching the man, who laid still on his back, his shaved head lolled to one side, Raph searchingly bent forward, reaching inside the man's dark green, windproof jacket, thoroughly scanning each pocket with his hands.

Six yards down the alley, a forth man stepped through the open backdoor, his attention aimed on the money he was stuffing his pants pockets with, an evident look of contentment painting his features. But once he lifted his face to search for his friends, he instantly knew their little break in had gone terribly wrong.

His partners laid sprawled on the ground, none of them moving a single limb in the darkness; none of them showing any signs of life.

But what really scared him, what caused his breath to clog in his throat and his blood to run cold in his veins, was the odd figure in the trench coat, hunched over one of his friends, going through the pockets of his clothes.

The man unsteadily tried to hold back his breath, standing frozen in the doorway. He lifted a trembling hand to reach inside his black leather coat, nervously grasping for help in his inner pocket as he suppressed his overwhelming instinct to panic, the consuming need to scream. Once the object was locked in his hold, the man slowly brought out his hand, revealing a black revolver in his grip.

He desperately closed his eyes - saying a silent prayer to anyone who was willing to listen - while he shakily cocked the trigger of the gun, his thumb trembling violently with the numbing force of hesitation. After opening his eyes and filling his lungs with a muffled breath of air, the man weakly lifted the weapon, pointing it at the unsuspecting back of the bulky stranger.

The eternal second of destiny passed in the darkness, leaving a lifetime of memories in its crucial print, before the apprehensive silence in the alley was forever broken, destroyed by the sharp explosion of a fired bullet.