Leatherhead re-emerged while Yoshi was still in the shower (which did indeed have hot water), dragging a netful of fish after him. Raphael and Leo had decided to recontinue their sparring session across the erstwhile hockey field, and Mikey was back at the Xbox.
"So is that what you eat when the supermarket's closed," Mikey commented, risking a glance away from his game.
"Yes indeed. Fish filleted, fried, fricasseed and flambéd." Leatherhead cleared room for his catch on the kitchen counter and rummaged for utensils to clean and scale them. "Though since Yoshi's indoor garden became productive, we've had plenty of vegetables to go with it. Breakfast will be ready shortly."
He paused, scaling knife in hand, as Yoshi emerged from the bathroom in a fresh outfit, blotting her hair on a threadbare towel. "Yoshi, my little gecko. Have you been swimming?"
"Not voluntarily," she admitted, winking at Donatello.
"Gecko?" Donnie queried, arching an eyebrow.
"Yes; she can climb anything." Leatherhead smiled fondly and indicated the ceiling's fluorescent lights. "That's how we got the lights and wiring up. I'm far too heavy to monkey around on those beams, even if I had the inclination."
After breakfast, Leatherhead sent Yoshi off to change into a wetsuit while he himself dragged a large plastic bin out of the workshop and began digging through it.
"Going back for another dunking?" Mikey teased when she returned. "I'm sure Raph would be happy to push you in."
"Nah. That's a privilege reserved for Mikey." Raph grinned at his brother wickedly.
"Actually, Michaelangelo, we're all going." Leatherhead began setting out masks, headlights, flippers, and aqualungs for all of them. "We need to retrieve the Cronosporter."
The brothers sat down next to the pile and began pulling on the scuba gear. "Where exactly is this Cronosporter?" Donnie asked, pulling a mask over his head. It promptly fogged up, so he pulled it back off to rub spit on the glass.
"April hid it in the Lair," Leo told him, remembering that Donnie had missed some of last night's conversation. "Right before she and Splinter..."
"But Yoshi said the sewers are full of rogue mousers," Donnie reminded him, reaching for a pair of flippers. "Drones whose restraint circuits have malfunctioned. Not even she could get past those."
"Stockman has used the sewers as a dumping ground for defective drones," Leatherhead agreed as he quickly fine-tuned his aqualung. Due to his crocodilian origins, he did not need flippers or a mask . "That's why we're going by another route."
Don checked his own aqualung carefully. Amphibious or not, he didn't much feel like drowning due to sticky air valves. "The river access tunnels?"
"Precisely."
The equipment was sorted out and donned in surprisingly short order, upon which they all followed Leatherhead to the mini-lake. Hogey, though, seemed to understand what was going on and objected to their departure by marching fretfully back and forth by the edge of the pool, clanking his jaw threateningly.
"Yo, Donnie -- you were right; there is some residual code." Mikey elbowed Donatello. "Look at him. He's patrolling!"
Donnie put his hands on his hips. "Not all residual code is dangerous, you know."
Yoshi finally quieted the drone by kneeling and talking to him reassuringly, while Mikey took advantage of her turned back by making the loony sign. This time it was Donatello who yanked his mask tails.
"Listen, Hogey, I won't be gone long. I'll come back, if I can, and then you can be my guardian angel when I raid Mafia stockpiles. Okay?"
"Yeah," Mikey quipped, still rubbing his head. "A really ugly, mean, metallic guardian angel!"
Hogey snapped at his toes.
"Yeow!" Mikey jumped out of range. "I meant that as a compliment! Really."
Raphael smirked and patted Hogey on the head. "Thanks, buddy. Saved me the trouble of doing it myself."
Leatherhead looked around the junker bunker fondly, making sure that everything was in order before they left. If their plan worked, he would probably remember nothing. Yet he couldn't help thinking that some part of him would still miss this little scrapheap, this home he had built with his own two hands.
He strapped on his aqualung and crouched beside Yoshi. She looked at him blankly. "Oh. Are we going somewhere?"
"To the Lair, sweetheart," he prompted patiently. "To retrieve the Cronosporter, remember?"
"Oh, of course." She bonked herself lightly on the head. "That's right. How could I forget?"
She slipped her arms around his neck. Then the great crocodile dove off the pool rim with a gracefulness almost alien in one so large. They sank into the dark water together.
"Man." Mikey shook his head. "I sure hope she remembers to hang on all the way."
"Well, if she doesn't, you grab her, okay?" Leo steeled himself, then jumped.
The water's frigidness permeated his body, and it was a struggle to breathe evenly instead of gasping in shock. He wrestled for focus and spotted two headlights, floating eerily in the near vicinity. Leatherhead and Yoshi. They were waiting for him.
He glanced around, counting heads swiftly as the others plummeted in, dragging silvery bubble-cocoons down with them. Being aware of his brothers' whereabouts at all times was second nature to him. As long as they were together... as long as they were together, everything was all right. Even if the world around them was shot to hell and gone.
He waited a few breaths while they checked their equipment. Thumbs-up all around; everyone's air was working okay. He nodded, the motion feeling strange underwater, and paddled after Leatherhead.
It was a strangely quiet journey. The familiar sound of his brothers' breathing was replaced by the hiss and burble of the aqualung, their soft footsteps by the dissonant music of water swishing against his body. His neck grew sore from constantly checking behind for the others and ahead for Leatherhead. Except for the milky headlight beams zigzagging across the gloom, it was dark. Leatherhead moved confidently, however, and Leo followed trustingly on his heels. Trusting one's gut was not always easy, but it sure did beat the alternative.
He felt his mask suck tight against his face as the pressure increased, and hoped the crocodile wasn't planning to go too deep. If something did happen to go wrong, it'd be that much longer before they could get to air.
The cold water must have warped his time sense. It seemed much longer than it probably was before the death grip on his face eased and they were ascending once more, aiming for an absolutely pitch-black oblong of surface water.
It was the Lair's open pool, all right... but when they surfaced, he almost didn't recognize the place.
It wasn't just the darkness, the complete and utter absence of TV-screen or even nightlight illumination. It was the emptiness. This darkness was... cold. Lonely. Moisture streaked the walls of the great chamber, running from the top of the subterranean domed ceiling down to the crack where its walls met the floor.
And for a moment, Leo felt that their home was weeping... mourning for them. Grieving their absence.
"We're here," he murmured, though not entirely certain who he was speaking to.
"So we are." Leatherhead heaved himself mightily over the edge, virtually unimpeded by Yoshi's weight.
Leo accepted the crocodile's help up, then pulled the others out, Raph last -- as befitted the brother who always watched their backs.
"Donnie..." Michaelangelo pointed. Two molding, shredding bedsheets hung between one pair of pillars, motionless as funeral crepe on a windless day.
The turtles drew a little closer to each other and stood shivering in the stagnant darkness, oppressed by more than the cold.
"Cheer up, my friends. You are almost home." Leatherhead bent low, allowing Yoshi to slide to the floor. She staggered a little, chilled through despite the wetsuit.
Donatello reached out and steadied her. Small masses lost heat more quickly than large ones, and Yoshi definitely fell into the 'small' category. He frowned. Even to his cold skin, she felt like ice.
"I think I'll be all right." Moisture beads spangled her goggle lens, brighter than diamonds in the glare of his headlight. "It's just one of the drawbacks of being skinny." She smiled brightly, then blew her cover by shivering.
Leo ran upstairs and found an old outfit of April's for Yoshi to change into while Raphael dragged an old electric heater out of the kitchen and plugged it in near the TV area.
"We'd cuddle you, Yoshi, but we're almost as cold as you are." Mikey plopped down next to the heater and wrapped his arms around his chest. Raphael crowded next to him, and Don and Leo squeezed onto the couch with Yoshi.
Yoshi smiled lopsidedly. "I'm pretty squished up as is, thanks."
The five of them lapsed into companionable silence, soaking up warmth as the old heater hummed and glowed. The Lair no longer seemed quite so desolate. Leatherhead, seeing his gecko was in good hands, began striding about the lair, peering at everything in a very analytic way.
"What now?" Leo asked Leatherhead at last, when the great mutant finally stopped pacing.
The crocodile rubbed his head in puzzlement. "I know it is here, but April gave me only a riddle as to its location, in case Stockman ever..." he trailed off. "In any case, I can't imagine where she meant. 'It's shown you many secrets, Donatello... but you rarely look at it directly.'" He looked apologetic. "Perhaps we were being too cryptic for our own good."
Donatello had think for exactly three seconds before he bolted off the couch. Leo almost fell into the space he'd so suddenly vacated.
"It's my desk lamp. I'm sure of it."