Outside Chance

by WhyIsThisHappeningToMe

(set post s4 of TMNT 2012) Leo has to make a lifechanging decision when the rebel-foot clan destroys their home. In a desperate attempt to escape, the turtles use the strange substance 'purple ooze' to temporarily become human as a means to an end. But when the brothers are sepperated during the seige, how will they be able to find each other again before their enemies does?

12. Turn the Lights Off

Hopkins remembered the first time he entered his office, that case, the one that cost him everything. His friends turning their back on him one after the other, blaming him, telling him that he'd do everyone a favor by turning in his badge. And he'd almost believed them too, the scorn as he walked down the hallways hitting him a little too close to the heart. He wasn't the detective he'd wanted to be. Too caught up in those around him to see the big picture, the truth starring him right in the face like it had always been there. Maybe they were right, he'd thought. Maybe Kurtzman had a point. All of that hard work and ambition driveling up into a nightmare that he couldn't stop in time, making things worse in the name of loyalty. Who did he think he was? They all knew it. They all knew the coldhearted Hopkins only thought of himself and no one else. He'd become the biproduct of everything he was trying to do, sacrificing a reputation for the sake of proving himself. Now resulting in a city on the brink of burning to the ground, a cut on the side of his head and a kid handcuffed to a table all because he wasn't careful enough.

And yet, the moment his higher ups realized that he'd caught none other than Casey Jones, the unstable, violence craving vigilante himself, they'd applauded him. An entire office standing tall as he walked past them, applauding his efforts with the respect and acknowledgement he'd been neglected for so many years. And of cause, the only person who wasn't there sharing in this victory, was the only one who understood the toll of the case better than anyone in the whole building. The only person who in his twenty years long stay at the office, he'd somehow called his friend. But alas, times were changing. And it was about time for Hopkins to start moving forward, instead of wallowing in what he knew for a fact couldn't be changed. After all, he had a kid to find and a witness to interrogate.

"Hopkins! Just the man I was looking for- Hey tell me, how is it that an old bastard like you stray from protocol, get thrown off a case and yet still manages to get promoted before I do?"

Tom leaned against the counter, file in hand. As the door closed behind them, the darkness of the room leaving the same clutter of books and files around the office as back in the apartment, in shadows. Hopkins let out a sigh, his mind straining as the just a decade or so older than him officer, tried to hide his jealousy under a furrowed brow and a redundant smile that was starting to get on his nerves.

"Must be my rigorous charm. how's the kid?" he said, cutting to the chase as his colleague was one bite away from ruining the custom made pen he'd now unceremoniously stuffed into his mouth like a chewing toy.

"Contained. For now… Still can't believe you actually caught the guy. I mean- just the recon department alone's up in arms. Been on his ass for two years thinking he's some sort of, deadly menace or whatnot, just to find out that all that, after all this time wastin' money and resources it's just-

"A kid"

"Hard to believe, huh? But hey, fingerprints checks out. We've got an entire team of detectives on their ass, thanks to your efforts. It's admirable, really. I didn't think you had it in you. And Jenkins definitely could use the retirement- I owe ya one"

Hopkins scoffed, not believing any of it for once second. Admirable- please. A few minutes ago, Tom was ready to take his place in the office at the drop of a hat, and now after having been knocked a hole through the side of his skull and handcuffing a teenager to a pole, he was suddenly getting praise. There weren't even close to solving this. The only reliable witness getting away along with the last remainder of evidence- as a result, rendering Kurtzman's tip all for nothing. They had no idea where to find it now, even if the rest of the department was willing to get their head out of the sand for once.

"Guess we're all surprised. 'Cept…" Hopkins paused for a moment, hands darting over the bandage around his head. The coordination of the attack. Or well… perhaps lack thereof.

"What?"

'Cept he wasn't wearing his mask when we arrested him… he thought, pondering too heavily to notice Tom starring. "Nothing, nothing. Just… happy to see one less criminal terrorizing the streets. He talk yet?"

"Not unless you count talking as the three tables he's already broken every time we restrain him- not to mention Clay and Sid's noses are in the wrong side of their face now cause of it. Smug little bastard. Here's the file" he said, leaving what Hopkins viewed as one paper short of a cinder brick in his hands. Just flipping through the pages was already exhausting and Tom quickly caught on to the detective's disbelief. "You think that's long? You should've seen the one for property damage"

And all that from one rage filled teenager. It was still hard to believe it was really him, that is, if the kid's severe love for branding and cheesy hockey quips mid-fight wasn't so obvious. You didn't need a therapist to know he loved the attention. And now he'd gotten it, chained to a table, but still. For all his incoordination and seemingly unrelenting love for chaos, the kid wasn't stupid. He knew not to get caught- or at least, how to get lucky- it was one of the reasons it had taken them this long to finally catch up with him, even if the circumstances of his arrest were… unusual, to say the least. And sure, the department had put a relative amount of his involvement in cases on the back burner for a while, mainly given he did pick up some of the slack, whenever cops forgot that he was breaking the law to do it. But that didn't mean he wasn't a priority. Now maybe more than ever…

So, it begged the question, why did he let himself get caught? What did he have to gain? Why was he with the red bandit of all people, and why was he at the pier right when the PD's started burning tents?! Why the hell was the cheesiest vigilante in all of New York city all of a sudden a suspect to an ongoing murder case?

"Wait a minute… is that a misprint? That can't be right" Hopkins looked at the name tag, trying not to laugh. Tom however, didn't hold back. A reoccurring habit of his through investigations unfortunately here to stay. "Sheesh. I'm starting to see what's got him so messed up…"

"Not the only thing messed up. Security found burn marks on his torso. Refused to talk about 'em though. Guessing we struck a nerve" he muttered, shaking his head. Then, his radio started blaring up. "You know I think it's kids like tha- wa—wait what? No, just send her out of there. I don't care how long it'll take! This is not a negotiation. I-

"Trouble?" Hopkins peaked up, not denying the tiny smile it brought him seeing Tom's forehead vein growing slightly bigger.

"That's putting it mildly. Some crazy lady's been stalking the reception all morning. Third time this week- what? No! How can you- Are you serious right now? Well, call security! Yes now! Before we-

But before they knew it, the door was kicked upon, nearly flying off the handle as a woman stood in the entry. She looked maybe about fifty, round, welcoming features, but overwritten by the dark lines under her eyes and a messy set of hair that stood unkept in what- according to Hopkin's intuition, told him was maybe a week or so. Basically, she was a mess. And neither officer knew how to react when she entered, keeping in mind the fact that for whatever reason, she'd managed to somehow beat security to them.

"Ma'am, you can't be in here" Tom began, but she didn't listen.
"No! No I'm not leaving- I'- I'm not leaving until you tell me exactly where my son is!"

"Call security- Tom muttered, reaching for his radio. Hopkins on the other hand, wasn't able to get a word out, not before she grabbed him by the shoulders and starred into his eyes, reddish around the iris and honestly, kind of terrifying, even for him.

"I have been waiting for weeks now, and you've given me nothing! You haven't told me anything and you know something?! I'm starting to think you haven't even bothered looking! What the hell kind of police officers are you if you can't even find a kid?! My son! "

"That's enough, get her out of there-

"They told me you brought a boy in. Please, I need to know, let me see him at least! I'll leave, just please, I need to see him"

Tom tried to pull her away, but she wasn't relenting, the panic in her voice too grave to reel back. You'd see that kind of look on someone a lot when you were in the field. However, for Hopkins, it had been so long now that he barely remembered it. Not until now when he remembered all too well the desperation that came, whenever you'd have to explain to a parent that, there was nothing they could do to save their loved ones...

"Please… Just let me see him. At least give me that"

"Out of the question, this is a private investigation-

"Shut up!"

"Tom, shut up"

Both Hopkins and the woman looked at each other, following their simultaneous outburst, though Tom certainly deserved part of it. She starred up at him, lips uttering the words please out in the air and it felt like a knife to the stomach. Maybe… maybe there's no harm in just looking, he figured, guilt gnawing at him because he knew that Casey Jones wasn't her kid. He couldn't be- at least not according to the file, but still. Anything was better than being kept in the dark. All it did, as he'd slowly come to realize over the corresponding weeks, was getting yourself into even more trouble than what was good for you. "Just… let her at least see for herself. " he said, the woman letting out a sigh, almost shaking in relief. Tom shook his head, a gesture screaming I'm gonna regret this, but alas, they were already making their way to the interrogation room. Walking, down the hallway, past the copy machine, second floor, up the elevator, past the concrete and running full speed towards the commotion despite his injuries.

"Where is he?" Hopkins called heart in his throat, marching toward the fire as sod clouded the air in black over the daylit sky.

"Sir, we have to ask you to leave, this is not a-

"WHERE IS THE KID?!" he just yelled, flying past medical supervisors as the ambulances hollered in the red and blue siren lights. The entire street was evacuated long before last night, the explosion having reached New York city skyline for miles away. People starring in shock and horror as firemen struggled to put out the fire, digging away the concrete. He was already gone. He was too late… this was on him, and he was too late.

"Hopkins?" called Tom, hand on the detective's shoulders as he snapped back to his senses. He unlocked the door, regaining consciousness shortly as they approached the window to the other side. And right there behind it, sat a tall gangly teenager dressed in black, cuffed to a table and with that mess of a hair of his hanging tangled all over his sodded cheeks. The woman leaned close, shaking her head as the kid unknown to her presence continued to stare blankly.

"N-no. but that's not… oh god, that's not… " she stuttered, tears welling up in her eyes. Then, as reality dawned on her, once again she turned to Hopkins, nearly making him fall backwards. "Please, I'm begging you, his name is Michael, Michael Robertson, please...! "

"I'm sorry ma'am. We're doing everything we can but we're just not-"

"That's not good enough!" she shouted, quickly taking notice of her rise in tone- composing herself. And though it was very evident that the tears weren't going to stop now, she still somehow maintained her sternness, voice growing small. "He's out there, I know he is, probably freezing to death and you expect me to just wait around doing nothing? " she whispered, as Hopkins saw his own reflection blinked back to him in her gaze. And then a thought came to him, one that unfortunately before the guards entered the room under Tom's command, Hopkins hadn't realized might very well be the truth. Maybe I was wrong… if she really is-

"Ma'am if you don't come with us, we have the right to retain you" Tom said, as the guards grabbed the woman by her elbow. She shook them off in one swift motion, determination guiding her as she reached into her jacket and pulled out a small picture- putting it onto Hopkin's chest.

"Here. Just, find him. Please" she said, before allowing the guards the escort her out of the room, leaving only Hopkins and Tom left. He looked at the picture, for a moment of clarity not really sure if he was disappointed or relieved. He'd never seen the kid before in his life, and even if he had, there were more important things he had to see to. But even so, he still kept it in his pocket, folding it neatly two times before turning his attention back to the matters at hand.

Tom clapped his hands together, equally relieved, but more so to finally have one problem less to solve, Hopkins figured.

"Now, about that promotion"

…

"Ayy! Grandpa! Just the man I wanted to see, hey how's Bill by the way? Heard about the divorce. Poor guy, tell him to hang in there. It'll get better… or- not. Also say hi to Martha and Frank from me, I wanna thank them for last time. Man, who would've thought he'd look that good in an eyepatch, huh?"

Hopkins entered the room, file in hand, sleeves rolled up. It didn't take more than the lock clicking undone before the kid was already spouting off. But even though his demeanor was anything but nervous, his leg tapping perpetually under the table right now told a different story.

"You done?"

"And another thing, how's your head by the way? " he continued, to which the cop responded by sitting down in front of him, a slight chuckle escaping him. The kid leaned back I the chair, hands underneath his head and with a smirk on his face that just reminded Hopkins why he never had kids.

"Why'd you do it?" he then asked, after a moment or two of asserting the situation. But already now, he'd come to the not so wavering conclusion that the cracks in the vigilante's mask, had to be at least the size of his ego. Or the size of the bruises covering most of his arms, a minor scar probably from a scissor something on his chin.

"Do what?" he asked, absentmindedly deciding now would be a good time to play with his hair, blowing it up and down his nose.

Hopkins had to remind himself not to lose his temper, even when dealing with a brat like this, thinking back to their fight instead as a means to get back on topic.
"You protected him. The red bandit, coincidentally one of my suspects and all in the name of getting caught and arrested, despite the fact that Casey Jones hasn't made an appearance since God damn Halloween. Why? What's your game here?"

Suddenly, Casey burst out of his seat, eyes glaring up like a rocket launcher,

"The red bandit? Really?! That's what you came up with? Are you kidding me?! You make him sound like a pirate, 'off plundering scallywags yoho'. I bet he'd love that! "he laughed, completely disregarding the fact that he was in holding, charged as a murder suspect, and not to mention five feet across the guy tempted to reach for his gun. "So, what name did they give you? Wrinkle? Mr. nosy? Something like that?"

Hopkins was already reaching his limits. And in what would've probably otherwise led to him throwing his chair or slamming his hands on the table, he figured that this time he'd better just stick to the script.

"Fine. You don't wanna talk, then let's start from the beginning, shall we?" he began, smiling as he reached for the file while Casey struggled to maintain his, though he certainly didn't give up the charade easily. In fact, just reading his name aloud was enough to make him flinch.
"Born Arnold Benrid Casey Jones-

"Th-that's a misprint-

"Dropped out of Roosevelt about two years ago, only to appear again a few months ago at a party. You joined the Hockey team at age nine, got into a rather nasty incident involving a puck to the face, same one I betcha is what got you those nasty teeth"
"Hey! My gap is cool and you know it" the kid argued, nearly falling off his chair in a momentary loss of balance. His brow furrowed slightly, it was clear the kid did not enjoy the analysis.

"And here I wondered what the mask was all about… and yet, you didn't wear it tonight. Not even any skates, hockey sticks, your whole gimmick. And here I thought you just loved dressing up, but now you're just a skinny brat from downtown, who got cocky and where did that get you again?"

Casey shrugged, still smiling ever so confidently. "Didn't realize you were such a fan"

"And yet you didn't hide your face. Knowing we were after you, appearing at the scene not fifteen minutes before PD's started setting it a blaze. With the red bandit in tow, no alibi to show for it and five cops whose faces you've rendered into Picasso paintings"

"Want me to make that six?"

"Sure, threaten the guy who's not chained to the table and holding the gun. Real clever" Hopkins muttered, tired of beating around the bush. He put down the folder for a moment, struggling a bit to figure out the right approach. Because as it stood, it was very evident that the kid simply wasn't just going to tell him the truth. No, he was hiding something- or maybe, protecting something was more accurate. But what?

"Did he threaten you? Something like that- is that why you helped him? His faithful little helper doing him a solid" he asserted, though the idea only seemed to amuse him. He let out a sigh. "Your parents must be so proud"
"I don't have any parents" he quickly stated- and this caught Hopkin's attention, playing with the chain around his cuffs to the point of annoyance. The sound alone was grating on the ears.

"Is that so? Funny because, says right here you do have one as a matter of fact. Huh, that's weird. Another misprint?" he began, getting up from the chair folder in hand like a poet about to do an open seminar. And though Casey did everything in his power to pretend like he wasn't listening, it was made pretty clear just from the smile leaving his face, that Hopkins was in the ballpark. He kept reading, "Born to John Arnold, and Clara Jones… Your mother died when you were little, leaving you and your sister Elizabeth Jones-

"Don't" he muttered, Hopkins continuing to circle him. And there goes the cracks…
"-to the custody of your father. And yet, in all my years working here, watching our team track you down time and time again, never once have we heard any word from either. I'm guessing that ain't the coincidence either"
"Dad's busy, so what?" he stated, shrugging slightly.

"So, he doesn't know" Hopkins concluded, reeling slightly at the information, because this gave him an idea. One he wasn't too proud of getting, but at the same time not one he could afford to waste either.

"How would you know? Maybe he does. Maybe he doesn't. It doesn't matter. It's got nothing to do with him"

"Those burn marks on you… was that him too?" he asked, eyeing the side of the kid's shirt, tugged away underneath a worn-out fabric. He laughed slightly, but it was more of a hollow snicker really than anything. As if to only reassure himself that he had a hold on the situation. He didn't. And Hopkins knew he had to do what he had to do.

"Hey, no shame in it kid, we can't all have the perfect parents. I know my pap sure as hell wasn't a walk in the park. But here I was just thinking… is it possible he's actually been neglecting you?"

Then, in the spam of two seconds he rose from the chair, the only thing holding him back the cuffs from most likely tackling the detective to the ground, but when that wasn't an option, he instead sank back down into it, eyes still gazing in spite.

"Shut your mouth"
"Because, for a parent to not even show for his own son's arrest… I can't help but feel that, maybe its not so much that he thinks you're a massive disappointment- maybe it's simply just that he… doesn't care"
Casey didn't say a word, instead keeping his head low, probably thinking of all the ways he could toss the now bolted to the floor table at Hopkin's head in one solid kick.

"Did I strike a nerve? So sorry. It's not personal kid, I just gotta know if we understand each other. " he continued, rereading the same page over and over again, having trouble deciding where to dig. Until finally, he stumbled upon the image of a girl with the same messy hair as his. "Your sister how old was she again? Twelve?"

At this, Casey immediately perked up, rage being an understatement to his expression, "You leave Lizzie out of this"
"You know being the suspect of an ongoing murder case ain't exactly going to help your sister anymore out than it is you getting out of those cuffs right now to punch me"

There was a pause between the two. It was staggering. Could've probably gone on for eternity, weren't it for the continuous clock ticking away at the wall, pulling Hopkins back to reality. And then he figured, maybe now was as good a time as any to let the cat out of the bag.

"Everybody take five. I need a moment alone"

Tom's voice was heard over the speakers, "Are you sure? But- that's not the normal procedu-

"I'm sure, just give us a moment" he insisted, waiting for a moment until he heard the door shut on the other side of the glass. Casey looked slightly sceptic, maybe even a little afraid, like he wasn't quite sure what this cop was going to do once they were both alone. And luckily, he wouldn't have to.

Hopkins fumbled after the other picture currently residing in his pocket, tossing it on the table and waiting patiently as the kids face lit up with disbelief.

"Tell me, those look familiar to you?" he asked, though already knowing the answer as soon as the kid saw the canisters of mutagen presented in front of him.

---

Tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock tick-

Donnie closed his hands around the needle, leading it to the vein of his arm slowly and steadily. He took a deep breath, tried to ignore the incessant sound of the clock ticking away on the wall, before finally inserting the tip of it into the already bruised wedge on his human-forearm, teeth gritted. When that was done, he leaned back in his chair- deep breaths trying to calm his heartbeat and reminding himself of happier times to the best of his ability, though all that seemed to lead to these days was just more guilt gnawing away at him. Then, he grabbed the small recording pen by his own design, tried to ignore the slight itchiness that was occurring in his neck and spoke into it,

"Vlog date, sixteenth of november. Testing anti-elimination serum, delegated number eleven and counting, test subject once again, with minimal symptoms waging from dizziness, shortness of breath or in extreme cases, fainting… but no signs of stability. Serious urge to come up with a better name for it, as to not be remembered as a, and I quote 'doofus' if I die from this, as well as contained (for now) anxiety for, well, pretty much everything about this. In conclusion: What am I even doing…"

He let out a sigh, scanning the monitor on the screen. Almost fully charged, it said. It would only be a matter of minutes now before the trackers would be up and running again, but of course, that also happened to be around the same time their "leader" had decided to go topside on them to brood, leaving Donnie, once again, alone in his lab.

"Note to self, when someone tosses around the phrase leader, make sure to actually have one on standby…" he muttered, disgruntled, checking his arm. Nothing so far, he noticed, already going through how to prepare for the new one in his head. But so far, even Donnie realized that the only way to reliably test if it was working at all, was to wait for the 18th and hope to god, that it didn't kill him. But of course, that wasn't exactly an option for them and even if it was, they only had three days left to figure it out in- and that was assuming they'd even forgive him…

"What are you doing?"

Donnie nearly had a heart attack, almost knocking over every tube and serum on the table. Leo leaned against the doorway, arms crossed and not particularly relaxed.

"Wh-what? Me? Nothing. Nothing just… research" Donnie stuttered, quickly pulling his sleeve down, though Leo didn't seem to notice. His eyes wandered over to the container, big water filling the green tube, now with their newest victim inside floating almost lifelessly inside it. This made Donnie gulp slightly, recognizing the look on his face as the same expression he'd made after Timothy was… well, taken care of. "Look, about Layton, I'm sorry. I should've- we should've warned you it's not- it's not what we thought it was. We thought it was just another foot soldier playing guinea pig, o-or maybe another mutant run rampant, but if we'd known it was a person, we wouldn't have… I guess, been so rough on him is the right word"

Leo shook his head, "You couldn't have known. Heck, I didn't know, it's just… a lot to take in"

"Welcome to our world." Donnie chuckled, halfheartedly to try and ease the tension, "Or- your world, I guess. Once you get your memories back of course"

"Is Raph still topside?"

"Yup. Don't worry, he's quit the team like forty times already. He'll be back before lunch"

Leo crossed his arms, worry on his face. It was always obvious when he had something on his mind actually, imitating the classic Captain Ryan stance he'd adopted ever since they were kids as a dead give-away. Guess some things never change.

"You know I was thinking… all this stuff about us being… what was it, turtles?-

"Fresh water turtles, to be specific, but go on…"

"and the stuff with the clan, and well… this. All this stuff about how we're going to fix this, that it'll be easy because, well, you've done it before-

"We have"

"What if we can't stop it on our own?" he finally said, sinking down on the chair. Donnie wasn't quite sure he understood, and rightfully so, Leo was rarely the one to voice his concerns regarding a mission. At least, that's the way it's been ever since Sensei's room emptied out. There wasn't room for doubt anymore, according to Leo, it was annoying actually how defiant he'd get the rare times the others would call him out on it. Eventually, it just became something that they didn't talk about anymore, but it was still there to an extent. Denying meditating alone, going out on patrol by himself, or just plain not knowing the right approach to a situation. It was weird to think how simultaneously bigger and smaller the world had become, all at once collapsing in on itself maybe without them even realizing it.

"Of course, we'll stop it. We always have" Donnie tried, though realizing very quickly that when it came to being 'the reassuring one' he wasn't exactly an A grade student.
"But what if we don't?"

"Well, then I guess we'll…" Donnie pulled of his plastic gloves one after the other. "I don't know actually" Huh… he thought. That's a first.

Leo sighed, sliding down the wall like a ragdoll, arms rested on his knees, "You know, a few days ago I was so sure that somewhere in the city I'd find some, I don't know, remnants of a family out there waiting for me. And then I'd find them, and I would go back to some school, or a job maybe, or just, whatever qualifies as normal I guess, and that would be it."

Now it was Donnie's turn to sigh, sliding down on the other side, across him, the only light in the room emanating from the tube's glow and the half-shattered lightbulb from his desk- courtesy of a mouser coming at him with a laser canon strapped to its back.

"I know the feeling" he muttered; the image of the life Leo just described striking him as remarkably similar to his own. Except, as they were both slowly starting to realize, reality had other plans.

"Then you guys come along, and now it's like, I don't know at all how I'm supposed to feel… what I'm supposed to do, it's just… it sounds so insane, no offense-

"None taken"

"-even if I've seen it first-hand. But at the same time… it also feels like, its where I'm supposed to be. Do you know what I'm saying?"

"More than you know" Donnie sighed, and actually meaning it for once. Difference was that while Donnie had been running around the city trying to get his life together, his new one, though it wasn't his- and maybe it was never going to be his, if he'd even deserved it at all. But thanks to the purple mutagen and a lucky bump on the head that, despite his better his better judgement rendered Donnie a tad bit jealous, had caused Leo to believe it was his life. Or at least, the one that he belonged to, strangely enough making their older brother's new venture out into the world of real people oddly fitting. And to think he's the one who objected to the idea in the first place. But it also made him wonder, if Leo didn't know the truth… would he go back to the way things were? Or would he stay away?

"I wish Sensei was here… he'd know what to tell you"

"So, he really is your- our father, then?" he asked, Donnie nodding as a response. "What happened to him?"

He didn't know what to say, dreading the question more than he realized, but there was just something about hearing it from him that made it feel like taboo almost. They never really talked about it, now that he thought about it. It wasn't a thing it was just, how it was really. They'd shelfed the topic long ago, to a point where it almost felt like he was still there with them. Just out on an errand, coming back home at any moment now, except that they all knew that wasn't the case. Mikey still had nightmares about it, Raph still holding onto the last remnants of the jade staff, now broken and fractured into pieces hidden away in a tiny box in the dojo. Even Leo still acted like him sometimes, of course without realizing it. He'd walk like him, talk like him, sometimes maybe even fight like him… It was rare times in the turtle's lives their brother had ever acted on his own, and the times that he did, ironically enough always seemed to get him into trouble. Case in point.

And then there was Donnie. You know, they say that it takes the body approximately five seconds to reach the ground from a ten-story skyscraper. But to Donnie, it had felt a lot closer to fifty. He still saw it vividly in his mind, the sight of him falling, thoughts racing back and forth on high alert, thinking of every possible way to disprove what they were seeing. Not knowing if he wished that he would just hit the ground already, or just stay in the air for just a little longer, so that maybe there'd still be time… could still somehow feel his legs run towards the building as if that would somehow be enough to safe him. Muscle memory, as he'd explained before, now pulling at him slightly, though he couldn't determine if the pain was from the experiment or his mind paving way to his nightmares.

"We don't really talk about it. You especially. Trying to approach you about it, it's like poking a bear with a really sharp stick."

Leo nodded, smiling slightly, probably the memory of Raph storming out the tunnel as soon as they'd mentioned him, fresh in his mind. Though something told Donnie it was something else, reminding himself to bring it up again after the whole purple mutagen- world domination situation was dealt with.

"I see what you mean. And here I thought he was just some old Japanese legend or something. Turns out he's the guy who raised me too and I barely even remember it. What kind of son does that?"

"Don't sweat it. You'll get those memories back in no time! Just- have a little faith."

"I don't know anymore. Everything's just so confusing…" he muttered, legs curling up under him. For a second, it seemed as if the roles were almost reversed, Donnie not used to the idea of him being the experienced one, though he felt as if he was starting to see another side of things. Or, maybe that was just the serum in his arm making him hallucinate again, he honestly couldn't tell. And yet, seeing it now… he felt a little bit closer to his brother than he'd been for a long time. As if maybe a part of him, this part of him, was real too.

"But Leo, no one says you have to stay with us. You can do your own thing. I mean yeah, you're our leader and all, you're the oldest, and honestly seeing you now, it almost feels like you're a different person, but… things have changed. The others don't see it but, that's the truth."

"Is that why you did it? With, the magical goo stuff, or whatever you called it. To do your own thing"
"What? No! I mean…. sounds pretty selfish when you say it like that " he muttered, remembering their argument in this very room. He looked at Leo for a moment, trying to picture how things might've turned out if they'd agreed from the get-go. Maybe he wouldn't have gotten that head injury… they wouldn't have split. He wouldn't be so honest with him. It's not him… he reminded himself. Not really. And until we get him back, what's the point in pretending like nothing's wrong? "Maybe I just thought that… never mind. We're wasting time, when we should be focusing on finding the canisters." He swallowed his words, getting back on his feet and back to work. To find the ooze, the clan, whatever messed up plans they had in store and then-

"You know, Donnie, it's not your job to fix everything by yourself, right?"

Donnie paused, screwdriver in hand and googles clasped over his forehead, before he bend down to loosen Metalhead 3.0's primary circuit. It was like his hardware, the words just had to settle for a bit before they could be probably recalibrated. Maybe that was just the effect of finally getting some recognition, and though as soon as you did, of course it had to come from the one person you couldn't even tell meant it or not.

"Do you think he'll come after you? The cop, I mean" Donnie asked, not at all changing the subject.
"I doubt it. After losing the blades, I pretty much lost the only thing keeping me around. He won't be looking for me"

"Wait- you lost the blades?"

Donnie almost couldn't believe what he was saying. Or- maybe it was more accurate to say he couldn't believe how it was said. "Yeah… sorry 'bout that"

But Leo just shrugged, seemingly none caring. He prioritizes his Space Heroes limited collection, but he's just fine when the family's most precious heirlooms are burned? It truly is the end as we know it…

He couldn't express his bafflement however, before their momentary 'bonding moment' as Donnie believed people called it these days, was then unceremoniously interrupted by a loud bang on the glass, forming in the tube. Not to mention the monitor on the vital screen suddenly going haywire.

"What was that?" Leo asked, as another loud thump shook the room and the soon to be filled with plasma laboratory recognized it to come from the creature- Layton, more accurately. Shrieking, not unlike how he did when they captured him, except the tube was designed to contain any high frequency light emanating from its mutated skin. It didn't make sense why it was suddenly screaming in pain. Slamming its spike like hands repeatedly on the glass like it was having a seizure or something, small driblets of black leaking from the veins. And then, Donnie remembered something, just as every light and sound in the room seemed to grow louder in his ears.

"What time is it?" he muttered, looking hastily at the clock ticking away.

"Uhh… four thirty. Why?"
"And when did you say Layton went missing?"

Leo shook his head, not understanding, "Last week…. Why? What are you getting at?"

Of course… Donnie knew exactly what was going on. Angry that he hadn't realized sooner but it was a little too hard to concentrate at the moment, when the clock on the other side ticked louder and seemingly louder in his ears. Actually, now that he thought about it, wasn't the room getting smaller?

"Donnie are you okay? Talk to me here, what's happening?!" Leo was getting nervous, panic rising in his voice as Donnie almost chuckled at the sight of the creature breaking apart in front of them little by little. Like an unspoken promise, dragging him further into reality until finally-

Tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock-

---

"Okay, this is just getting boring"

Mikey was getting restless, bouncing up and down the theater roof unafraid of the concrete below. How long had it been? An hour? The movie was most likely in the second act by now, though Mikey didn't care much for it anyway. He was getting tired of romcom endings, and this one was no exception- except of course, this time his friend hadn't bothered to show. And if that wasn't enough, the heavy snow that right now melted in his hair was anything but cozy.

"OKAY! I'm HERE! HallOOOO!? Simon? I came! And I brought snacks! Salt stickers and everything! Come ooooOOOON!" he yelled, swaying over the edge, popcorn and salt stickers in hand. Nothing. Not even the pigeons that cooed next to him seemed to pay him any mind. He sighed, biting into another piece though the fnowlavor seemed to escape him slightly. Or maybe that was just a product of his mood.

"Maybe I should've bought the sweet ones…"

"Hey, kid! What the hell do you think you're doing?! GET DOWN FROM THERE!" one of the staff yelled, and it was at this point that Mikey figured now might be a good time to leave.

"Sorry!" he yelled, absentmindedly sliding down the railing, backflipping nonchalantly on the frozen concrete in front of her and dumping the remaining bag of popcorn into the lady's hands as she stood flabbergasted aback. "Keep the bag"

He decided to take the bus. Busses always brought him into a better mood. Well almost always, there was that one time in particular where he nearly got hit by one, that he wasn't very happy to recall, accidentally stumbling out into traffic when they were younger and looking for adventure. But sitting in one, to Mikey at least, felt like a rollercoaster. Excited to meet the people aboard, as well as watching the city drive by like a movie playing in his mind. Nope, nothing boring about busses. Maybe he's just busy, Mikey thought, waiting anxiously to the point he felt almost bordering on manically by the bus stop, snow flowing down around him. Yeah, that's it. He's probably just… stuck in a book again or something! Totally! He wouldn't just ditch me, that's not like him at all, Mikey reassured himself, as the sound of something crunchy from right next to him made him jump. And as he turned his head, the feeling was only amplified by the small figure now eating one of Simon's would-be salt stickers right next to him.

"ARGH! Tyler! You scared me, little man" he burst, nearly jumping into the nearest telephone pole just out of sheer surprise. Tyler didn't say anything, as usual just standing there observing, slowly and not at all menacingly bringing the salt sticker up to his mouth before taking a bite. Still starring, still not saying a word. "Uhh… big man? Medium? What are you doing here, dude?" Mikey tried, not really sure if he should be terrified or impressed. Sneaking up on him like that, he had the potential to be something of a ninja if he'd like. But before Mikey could point out this extremely flattering fact, that totally wasn't an attempt to slay the awkwardness, Tyler grabbed Mikey by the sleeve and started dragging him in the other direction. "Oh, ok, I guess we can do that too"

So, they started walking, no bus, in the pouring snow, probably at risk of getting a severe cold if they weren't headed inside soon. And just as they passed the laundry mat, it looked as though that's exactly what they were doing. Entering, what to Mikey looked like a library of sorts, the quivering silence of the building making him slightly uncomfortable.

"What are we doing here exactly?" he asked again, this time doing a not so convincing deepening of his throat to not reveal his slight panic. Tyler, once again, didn't say anything. Just kept walking, resolute, almost reminding him of a miniature Leo out on patrol for the first time in his life. "Alright, I get it. Keeping' cool, keeping the vibe going, I see what you're doing. Except, you know if that's what you're going for, maybe drop the shady going secret places without telling someone, you know? Truth I hear, way cooler. Like… cold ice cream- 'cept maybe the screaming part, scratch that, never mind, no one likes ice cream in November…"

They went up the stairs, exiting the library as well as opening a door out to the cold winter air. He, despite never having actually hung out on this roof, did strangely enough seem to recognize some the surrounding buildings. Yeah, yeah there was the big scaly building, that kinda reminded him of a dragon neck. There was the swirly, looking building, the building that looked like a giant crystal, and at last the dreary looking, tall enough to probably reach the heavens-building on the right. The one with the squared shaped entry way, those funny spinning doors Mikey always thought as an unnecessary but a very welcome obstacle course, claiming it helped him sharpen his ninja senses. The building also had windows on the side, lots of them actually, all at least a cinderblock apart and starring what Mikey found the most unsettling, patients. All wearing white, all just by themselves, looking like animals in cages almost wondering around and god forbid if any of them ever made eye contact. Mikey'd only been in that building once in his life, and he still remembered the experience as anything but pleasant, lucky that Mrs. Robertson was there to get him out.

"Again, uhhhh, mind telling me what we're doing here dude?" he asked, as Tyler led them over to the very edge, revealing what Mikey only now noticed to be a tent set up just a few feet away and out of danger. As they sat down, Tyler fumbled inside, landing them both at the tents very front, tossing a pillow in Mikey's direction and casually fumbling after his bag pack. Then, he brought out a pair of binoculars, handed them to Mikey and pointed into one of the windows on the third floor. Curious, but at the same time feeling slightly unhinged, he brought them to his eyes.

And there she was. None other than Mrs. Robertson, sitting in a chair, right across a woman in a white lab coat, not unlike the ones Donnie always wore. Except, there was something off about her. Mrs. Robertson that is. Her hair was all messy, not even pulled back but instead springled to all sides which, under other circumstances Mikey would probably call a stylistic choice, more than anything, if it wasn't also for her messy makeup to boot. Her unfolded shirt, her quivering lip. She was shaking, even the binoculars couldn't hide that, the way she was sitting hunched forward, shivering as the lady behind the desk nodded patiently at whatever they were talking about.

"Oh…" Mikey muttered, looking at Tyler who had this almost shadowlike exterior. He didn't say a word, but he didn't have to. Now he understood why he'd brought him here, making Mikey's heart sink even deeper in his chest, the guilt clawing its way up his throat, and he felt like the snow just turned into rain.

He let out a sigh, closing his eyes, "Look, I'm sorry. I know, I've been intrusive. When your mom found me, I was just so excited that I didn't realize I might've been too much. I know Mr. Robertson certainly felt that way. My brothers, you… I-I understand if you feel like I've taken your parents attention away from you- Donnie calls it overassertive… overassertive- what was it again? Argh, I can't remember, okay, scratch that! Speaking from the heart here, look, Tyler I am sorry. I'm sorry I came into your family's life like that-

"I know you're a mutant"

"I got my own family. You got yours, I get that and from now on, you don't have to worry! I still appreciate you sharing your room, your comics, your video games. But past is past, and now, you can hang tight knowing that I will be out of here before you even know I was go-wait what did you just say?"

Mikey was absolutely flabbergasted. Not just the fact that Tyler just said something, but the words themselves. So casually spoken Mikey had to take a moment to process. Did he just hear that right…? Was it just his imagination again? He couldn't get either question out, and didn't have to as Tyler already started reaching for his backpack. And out from it, he pulled a notebook. His notebook. Mikey couldn't count how many times he'd slipped a page out from one of those through the door whenever Mikey tried to stir up conversation. Tyler only flipped the page once, knowing exactly where to find what he was looking for, before handing it to Mikey who was once again as intrigued as he was scared.

In it he saw four figures, amazingly drawn in Mikey's opinion, though it certainly left room for interpretation, all of which green, wearing masks, blue, orange, red and purple. Each had their own weapon too, Mikey recognizing each of them like he now had learned to recognize the nose on his own human face. It was them. And not just them, this was them fighting that pigeon monster last year. He remembered it now… yeah, that was it. Professionally drawn too and everything. Now that was a night he hadn't forgotten easily, cherishing the moment Raph thought that giving the creature breadcrumbs would give them an advantage, instead backfiring horribly. He still denied talking about it to this day without going red in the face. But then Mikey noticed another person on the frame, slightly curled from the paper being crumpled, and he realized it was because the figure was Tyler. Messy hair and everything, hiding behind the wall peaking up like a chameleon.

"That was you?"

Tyler nodded, scribbling something down in his other notebook.

"B-but if you knew, why didn't you tell anyone?! Why didn't you tell me?! Oh wait, I think I know…" Mikey didn't know what to say. For once, at a loss for words. He was there… all along and not only that, he'd known. All this time, how could he keep this a secret? Better yet, how could he sleep next to that and not say a peep?! He sighed, all of a sudden, feeling his arms go slightly limp, trying to recall that fight again. But he didn't remember seeing any kid, certainly not Tyler, as easily unnoticeable as he could tend to be, but now it irked him because, if he knew Mikey's secret all this time, why did he bother tolerating him the way he did?

"But… I thought you hated me. I mean why else would you never say anything around me? I'm too annoying for you to just ignore my annoyingness!" he argued, to which Tyler handed him another page. This one depicting human Mikey wearing his mask, hands on his hips starring out, and right there next to him a silhouette (this one significantly more scribbly drawn and less detailed he noticed) that he could only guess was supposed to be Tyler, wearing a black one, imitating his stance. At least he's better at illustrations than self-portraits, he thought, managing to not voice them out loud. "Oh… hehe, guess I misinterpreted"

Tyler nodded again, pulling the binoculars back over his eyes.

"So… why did you bring me here?"

Tyler didn't lower the spying tool as he pointed him to one of the lasts pages in the book. When Mikey turned it, his heart sank. Because he knew immediately who it was- the woman hurdled down on the floor, scribbled in black lines. She was bend over, eyes running in a blue crayon falling down her cheeks, as thunder was sketched out over her from above.

"You know, if you wasn't such a good drawer I might actually be sad" he muttered, swallowing the pit in his chest through a forced laughter that only seemed to enforce the pain. Tyler was still silent, just starring at Mikey with those big sleep deprived eyes of his, waiting for anything. Last time he'd even spoken to her- he didn't even think about what might've happened while he was gone. Because as far as Mrs. Robertson was concerned, he was still her responsibility, right? And how did Mikey repay her? By running away like a coward… Maybe Simon was right. Maybe I should've went to her, i-if I knew things were this bad… He took a deep breath, Donnie's words still echoing in his ear clear as day,

If someone cares about you… really cares about you, then it doesn't matter what you look like. And maybe he was right too… after all if Tyler didn't seem to care, who's to say Simon would? But Mrs. Robertson?

"She really still wants me back? Even after what I said? When I ran away… again. I do that quite a bit actually. I guess we have that in common, huh? The mad lad runaway ninjas- no that's a bad name, bad name, come on Mikey you can do better than that!"

Tyler smiled, but only shortly. It was one of those smiles that felt more on display, not because the person who gave them was actually happy. And this was only proven once he picked up the pen again and scribbled two simple words on the bottom: Come home.

"Look, I want to go back. I do, but even if I could, my brothers need me now. And something bad is coming. You should probably know that if you ever see a black pajamas dude with ninja weapons, you're in big trouble. And Raph says we've got a whole army of those after us. So that's why I need you to be there for your parents when I can't, okay?" Mikey was just about to get up from the tent, when Tyler stopped him halfway. He'd already produced another note, as if it was already ready to go, except this one wasn't slid through a door- but was instead held out, reading the words:

'Tell them' in big green letters.

Mikey scoffed, anything but convinced, "You've seen what I really look like, come on dude, who would ever accept that into their home?!"

After all, even if it was that simple, which it very much definitely not-so is, then the guarantee of Mr. Robertson being okay with that was already a definite no-go, and that was assuming they'd even believe him if he did. Only way to know for sure, was to prove it really. And no way that was ever going to happen. Tyler shrugged, giving him that curvy juvenile smile that just exuded with the 'someone doesn't think so' and they both knew who, making Mikey's chins burn red.

"Th- Besides the point. You don't get it" he sighed, dumping back on the now ice frozen cushions as the snowflakes seemed to grow bigger and bigger as they fell from the sky. They looked down at the psychiatric ward again, Mrs. Robertson's car pulling out of the driveway and Tyler seemed more… calm, than before. Strangely enough. Didn't think that was possible, really… Mikey thought, holding out a closed fist.

"You know, you're a pretty chill dude. I can respect that" he said, Tyler bumping it hesitantly to which both boys seemed to recognize the winter weather catching up with the rest of their bodies. "You know if you keep going out here in the middle of the night, you're gonna catch a cold. Oh, I sound just like Donnie… Come on."

Tyler paused for second, before following him down the building, careful not to slip on the ice. When they made it down, the forelights of the Robertson's car shimmered on the other side, though Mrs. Robertson hadn't seen them yet from the other side. Mikey made sure to stay in the shadows, something he was quite good at of course, though it pained him not to be able to approach the car as he'd always done after school. Tyler was just about to go, when he suddenly stopped, looking back at his used to be roommate for a moment, lips moving slightly as if he was about to say something.

"Don't worry I'll think about it, okay?" Mikey reassured him, not sure if he believed it. For all he knew, this was the last time he'd still be him, at least for all Tyler knew… making him wonder if changing back really was the right thing for him to do. To give up the family he'd build, for the one he already had.

"See you around… maybe… hopefully"

---

"So? "

He looked at the picture on the table, first stunned, then panicked until finally he settled on what he could only guess was supposed to convey the 'not caring' face that only a teenager could manifest. Though the smirk on his face as he absentmindedly shrugged, certainly seemed to work to his detriment, making Hopkin's forehead-vein close to popping.

"Wow is that lava lamps? A little old school, I'll admit, but hey, whatever floats your boat, pops. We all have weird tastes"

Hopkins sighed, leaning on the table. "You know, if you weren't such a pain in the ass, you might've been a successful actor"

"What? I seriously don't know what you're talking about! Guy comes in, accuses me of murder and slams some lightsabers on the table, and you think that'll make me-

The sound of a click brimmed underneath the table, and Casey recognized it to be the geezer loading his gun, playing with the trigger in a way that made it hard for him not to freeze.

"-… talk. I'm not afraid of you… "

"Yes, yes, that is the face of a guy who must be innocent. Give it a rest a kid, I've had my fair share of scumbags in here, I know a guilty face when I see one. And you, Casey Jones? You're the god damn clown king in that department" he said, getting all up in his face as the vigilante struggled between the incredible urge to punch him in the face, and actually finding a way to get out of there in one piece. The longer he wasted time letting his emotions get the better of him, the more his friends might be in danger, and he couldn't be there to help them. So instead, he decided to compromise. He'd already proven to know more than his colleagues behind the glass- or at least think he does, meaning whatever it was keeping him from letting them in on their little conversation, might as well be Casey's ticket out of there… Well, that was the idea, anyway. Without his hockey stick or a crowbar to do the talking, he was pretty much defenseless.

"Okay fine. Just- put that away and I'll tell you what I know" he said, wishing the barrel of his gun far away from him, though he tried hard not to show it. Hopkins, however, responded by flicking the thing around his wrist, making the young vigilante jump a solid meter into the air. "Or… not. Look, you've got the wrong guy here, okay? I'm not a part of this"

"Suddenly not so loyal?"

Casey bit his lip wondering how in the heck he could explain this without sounding like even more of a psychopath than he already did. When thinking didn't do him much, he simply decided to follow his instincts, and at this point what did he have to lose? And before he knew it, "You're after the foot! The foot clan? Ringing any bell?" he simply went for it. Or- burst, is maybe more accurate. Hopkins already rolling his eyes, rubbing his temples.

"Jesus christ…"

"Hey, I'm telling the truth here! It's those guys you want! Not me. Not even Raph and believe me- I know how tempting it can be but punching him in the face isn't going to solve your problems"

This made the detective pause, weighing the information in his head like you'd weigh the options of the breakfast menu in a sea food restaurant.
"Raph, you say. That a nickname, or did your parents just really hate you?"

"Wha- no I didn't mean… crap. " Casey grunted, realizing too late what he'd let slip. Well, good thing mutant turtles are usually not in the government registration of names… Not so good though, Raph sucks at being inconspicuous.

"What were you doing at the docks?" Hopkins asked, once again, with the sternness in his tone that now that he thought about it, reminded Casey a lot of himself the first few weeks of the turtles disappearance. The bloodshot eyes, the stained clothes, the wrinkles.

"How do you know we didn't just happen to walk by?"

"Look kid, enough games- just tell me the truth... I don't wanna throw you under the bus unless I have to, okay? Honestly, I could care less about what happens to you here, but if we don't help each other out, then none of us are gonna get out of this room happy"

Casey scoffed, unable to fathom the nerve of this guy. It was even worse that his, "Oh, that's rich. Really rich, paps, look don't think for a second, I haven't seen your type around either. Going around thinking you own the world just because you got a fancy uniform, well let me tell your something. Where were you guys, when freaking aliens attacked New York city?! When those bug-eyed freaks broke into my home!? Where were you when that happened, huh?!"

"Oh great, another conspiracy nut! I don't have time for this-

"Listen to me- yes, I might not be the picture book of innocence here, but I'm not lying. You're after those canisters? Well, what a coincidence because so are we. But it's not what you think- I can promise you that. I'm trying to help you, so we can both get what we want, isn't that the reason you even bothered going after those things? Sure, it might look a little sketchy, but fact is, we're innocent here!"

He realized he was yelling now, but he didn't even care anymore. This bastard wasn't going to help them. He was just another adult thinking they know better, when the real heroes are out there doing the real work for the people who needs it. What did he know about justice? Just hearing this jerk open his mouth was plenty to make Casey want to put another hole into his skull.

After a while he finally looked up from the picture, a grin over his stub, slowly sneering itself over his face, "Now there's a fun idea. Casey Jones, pleads innocent- when you were not only present at the scene, but protecting the Red Bandit to boot. And isn't it funny that those two things happened to be around the same time the Purple Dragons decided to remobilize dangerous chemicals? Why are you protecting them?!" he asked, chest rising faster and faster along with his knuckles whitening over the armrest. Trying to calm himself for a bit he said, in a lower register, "Look, I've seen what this can do- and I'm not about to let New York turn into some sort of freak fest because of a brat with an overcompensating ego"

Casey though, was having none of it. "You think this isn't a freak fest already? Now there's the fun idea. You have no clue what you're up against. We do. That's what I'm trying to freaking say! We're on the same side here! This is our home too, so why won't you just let us help you stop these bastards while we still can?!"

"You don't get to lecture me!" the detective yelled, slamming both fists on the table, except this time, Casey didn't move an inch out of his seat. He just kept his eyes fixed on the equally stubborn Hopkins now frustratingly pacing around the room.

Then, he closed his eyes, as if the mere memory was enough to making him anxious, if only for just one short moment of vulnerability. "There was an explosion in Chinatown last night. I'm told that's where you and your criminal buddies are usually sighted, your hunting ground or whatever you like to call it. One casualty, two injured, and now a kid's gone missing. You wouldn't happen to know anything about that?"

And then it occurred to him. "Wait- are you talking about Leo…?" quickly followed by Casey immediately wanting to mentally kick himself for not being able to shut his big mouth.

"So, you do know him" Hopkins breathed, bending down to meet the boys eye level and close enough that Casey could see his own pale reflection shot back in the cops depleted eyes. "Where is he?"

"Why do you care? Lots of Leo's in this city you know, might be someone els-"

he choked, or more accurately the detective choked him, hands around his shirt pulling him into a stance as the air was slowly driveling out of him. Hopkins' voice was like a hiss when he spoke-

"I know you took him. It makes sense, doesn't it? You know what this stuff can do, you know how the Purple Dragons operate, and not to mention, you have protected the guy responsible for causing mass panic in several districts. We found you, same night as the attack and the explosion… you know where he is- you haven't denied it. Meaning if you don't tell me exactly where you and your little red-haired buddy is, I'm going to personally make sure you and your sister are in check until I get answers. And believe me, I promise you won't see her or your backwards family ever again if that happens. Are we clear?"

Casey heard every word loud and clear. But fact was, he'd encountered more cops probably in a lifetime to let himself get bested by just one, even if it meant being choked to death by a crooked grandpa in an overstuffed suit. And especially not when it came to someone threatening his family. His sister. No, no, Casey Jones wasn't going to let it slide that easily,

"I won't… let you… " almost spitting the words out when all of a sudden-

"Mr. Hopkins"

-the door slammed open. Hopkins didn't turn around, not even letting go of Casey's shirt as a big broad-shouldered man and Tom entered the room.

"Kinda busy here" he just said, the taller man presenting a paper that neither had time to read before he slammed it topside onto the table.
"Not anymore"

Hopkins then finally let go of his suspect, bewildered, "What the hell are you- "

"We're putting your interrogation on hold. Special orders" the man said, as Tom silently crept behind him in the corner. "I tried to stop him." He muttered, not looking particularly upset by this in the slightest. Hopkins though- let's just say he wasn't exactly happy by the fact that once again, his higher ups was for whatever reason compromising his case. He marched over to the man, probably preparing an entire spitfire in his head.

"I hope you know you're interfering with-

"You'll have your time with him, detective." The man interrupted him. Short and swiftly, before pointing him towards the door. "Now, get out"

The detective was… stunned. Casey was stunned, seeing Hopkins begrudgingly turn away. But before he did, he grabbed the keys to Casey's chain and bend down to ear level as he unlocked it- Casey meanwhile keeping his eyes on the gun in his belt.

"If you won't, I'll find someone who'll talk. You know I will" he whispered, on his way to leaving the room as every fiber and muscle in the vigilante turned into a maelstrom of rage, getting ready to rip his head off if possible, weren't it for the handcuffs keeping him in his place. He wasn't going to touch her. He wouldn't- he can't! She's innocent. She's got nothing to do with this-

"Calm down, boy" the man said, as two guards struggled to restrain him.

"Get your hands off of me freaks!"

But Casey didn't care, too fueled by the fact that now his friends was in even more trouble than before, now with this jackass on their tail. It was a miracle really, that the foot hadn't gotten away with him already. With everything he knew so far, he was surely going to mess things up for both of them. And he sure as shell wasn't going to leave them alone. Not after the stunt both he and Raph had pulled at the docks. His suspicions on Leo, or whatever the heck he'd done to brainwash him.

The guards led him down the station, threatening to use their taser on him a multitude of times though he managed to stay calm. Or- as calm as he could be. He'd already bitten and kicked a good portion of the staff who brought him in, and he was slowly realizing that it didn't amount to anything. He was outnumbered, outgunned, and once again… completely out of his mind. They walked past the different corridors, the holding cells, all of which filled with Purple Dragon members, and almost all of them goons he recognized. None of them, luckily, seemed to recognize him, and it made him wonder, in all these years of living in fear of these punkers, how many was put in here by Raph? Probably more than Casey had, which, turned out to be a fact that bothered him tremendously.

Finally, they tossed him into an almost office-like room, this one with its very own holding cell. As the guards finished uncuffing him (after unceremoniously having had to toss him inside against his will), and locking the cell door, Casey was ready to kick the damn bars down if he had to. Yelling or screaming or just breaking anything until he'd maybe be able to annoy them into letting him free. Good job, Casey, really nice going there getting yourself locked up. He didn't even know if the others were okay. From the sounds of it, wherever that mutant came from, it was more than either Donnie or Mikey could handle, a fact that not only sounded like serious bad news in itself, but made the vigilante even grumpier knowing he wouldn't be able to join in the fight. If this is what being "on the path to righteousness" is like, remind me to never take morality lessons from a rat in a dress ever again…

"They weren't kidding when they said you had spunk"

Casey looked up, not noticing the man who stuck up to Hopkins, still there in the room with him. He had his arms folded behind his back, the black suit making him look like an off-putting version of a kraang-droid, the sunglasses to boot but minus the bad vocabulary. His face was round, bald, younger than Hopkins but older around the eyes, where if Casey were to guess, he'd probably used the glasses to cover up his growing wrinkles.

"Who are you supposed to be?" he asked, wary because it was at this point he had that feeling in his gut that was very much not a good sign.

"A friend. Or… I could be. To your family. Unfortunately, I'm afraid that's not an option anymore" he said, voice different than he'd spoken in the interrogation room, Casey noticed. It had accent, the same form of phrasing he'd heard a long time ago now but was clear as day not one he'd hear out of the average New Yorker. And not from a cop who'd feel the need to hide it from his collegues just moments ago.

"Who are you?" Casey asked, gasping as for a moment of unease already making him tense, suddenly was turned into an unyielding, writhing pain stemming from the stranger having decided to mercilessly claw his nails into the flesh on his stomach. And suddenly, it was like that night all over again, lights flickering for a moment as he fell on his knees fighting to contain his scream. He saw them all again, bend over him, their freaky bug eyes surrounding him, taking the rods and letting them burn away his skin, the sensation making everything tense up inside like cement. Like his blood was boiling, jittering and quivering because no matter what he tried, he couldn't make it stop. Couldn't get back up, couldn't fight back, he was powerless. But now, when he opened his eyes looking up at the stranger, he realized that he was still in the cage, anger and panic fueled inside him all at once.

"We were hoping you might help us, but it seems you've made up your mind since then. A shame. You showed so much promise. Well, we might still be able to get it out another way… ln time." He said, finally letting go and Casey was finally allowed to breathe. Every chug of air bouncing up and down in his throat as he struggled to calm his nerves, that felt more like a swarm of bugs inside his brain that buzzed and bit and just made everything go into overdrive. He tried to get back up, struggling to get the words out as he clung to the bars- the stranger exiting calmly.

"Who are you?! Hey, I'm not done with you punk! What does that mean?!"

He opened the door, turned around, and in one snake-like smile he nodded his head.

"Enjoy your stay, Casey Jones"

And locked the door behind him.

Casey immediately hammered on the bars. Yelling for help, for someone out the hall, someone who must've seen him, someone who might listen or just do anything. This was bad. This was really, really, really bad… Casey tried kicking the wall, searching his bed for any tools, anything sharp to maybe saw the bars down or pick the lock, but of course there was nothing. So, with his head in his hands, his wounds re-opened and his self-esteem, basically grinded into dust at this point, Casey was at a loss for what to do. But then, his eyes caught sight of the phone lying on the counter. His phone, dumped along with the rest of his stuff, including the steel pipe and pocket change collecting dust. It was just out of reach. But it was there. Still charge in it.

He could still warn them. But oh wait. He almost forgot… the turtles didn't have any phones. Let alone a cell number- that didn't work on Donnie's communicators. The genius couldn't have somehow worked that into the mechanism, huh. Leaving only one person left for him to contact. One he wasn't very big on asking for help at all, (and actually would have very much preferred not to ask at all), but since he was kind of out of options here, it was pretty apparent that he wasn't gonna have much of a choice in the matter. He had to do something.

So, with that being said, Casey picked himself off the floor, grabbed the linens of his bed and ripped them apart piece by piece.

---

Raph made his way down the street, feeling the bruises on his now bloodstained knuckles begin to burn a little bit. He didn't know how long it'd been, not really caring if anyone went to follow him, but as faith would have it, he was all by himself. So, after what had approximately been a good half an hour of practicing katas on trashcans and telephone poles, screaming his bloody heart out until his lungs dried out, he figured he might as well try his luck. Once again, going the only place he really knew to go. Quickly pulling his sleeves over his hands before he knocked twice, already having that feeling you had, when you knew you were about to do something you'd regret sit in his gut.

Then, after a couple of seconds, the door eventually opened. And there she was. Lizzie Jones, still wearing the yellow kitchen gloves, as well as a small clipping over her nose. She took a moment to analyze him, once again giving him the so-called elevator look, before very unimpressive she continued to stare at him blankly. The more he looked at her, the more Raph figured she was starting to assimilate a robot, though somehow scarier than the ones he'd fought on a daily basis. At least they didn't have eyeballs.

Tired, out of patience and honestly a little bit pissed, Raph opened his mouth to get to the point when,

"You're standing on it"

He didn't understand. Lizzie sighing as she nodded toward the ground, arms crossed. "The line. I'm not letting you in unless you take a step back"

He looked down, only now noticing the big, yellow taped line separating him from the entrance. Same one matching the one in the kitchen, and it also made Raph wonder if it had always been there, or it happened to be new. Casey notifying her that they were no longer in the safe zone or something, which his sister seemed to take very seriously. Regardless, he did as she said, taking note of his stance before returning to the reason why he was there.

"Look, I just wanna know if Casey's here. Or, if you've heard from him at all in the last twenty-four hours? That would be great"

"What's the password?" she asked, face blank. Raph kept his hands in his pockets, surrendering the urge to punch a hole in the wall as hard as that seemed to be these days. "Listen, it's been a long day, and I'm really not in the mood for any-… is it, Arnold?"

A smile crept over her face. "Enter" she said, stepping aside- Raph initially hoping to make this short, but alas followed her into the living room, once again trying hard to ignore the voice in his head telling him to turn back.
"You still cleaning those?" he asked, noticing the shine of the plates still piled up in the sink, as well as the soapy water raining down over the windows, smell still heavy in the room.

"I appreciate cleanliness" she just said, grabbing the sponge from her bucket and continued scrubbing away like her life depended on it. "And no, I haven't seen him."

Raph let out a sigh, not surprised exactly, just… this was not the news he'd wanted to leave with. "Great. Great! Just fantastic…"

"Is he in trouble?"

Raph scoffed, fiddling with the fold of his sleeves as he in his mind debated whether or not to simply tell her flat out. Because even if she didn't know about her brother's extra calicular activities, she at least deserved to know that he was okay. Or- as okay as the apprehended vigilante wannabe Casey Jones could be. "You could say that. The police took 'im"

"Again? Was it Paul?" she asked, turning her head away from the window for just a moment, though not exactly sounding concerned.

"What? No. He got flanked by some douchebag yesterday- haven't seen him since, so I figured, maybe he'd somehow escaped or something, I don't know…. I'm sorry."

"He'll be back" she said, so matter of factly that Raph honestly couldn't deduce whether or not she knew something he didn't, or simply choose to believe that he was fine, when he was clearly not. As it stood, Lizzie seemed oddly timid, slightly assertive but somewhat hopeful all at the same time, even as she stood there reaching for the top shelves.

"I wouldn't be so sure" Raph muttered, eyeing the different pictures on the wall, most of which were filled to the brim with Casey and his sister, grandparents maybe, strangers that going by their features if Raph was to guess, might be other relatives. Some with their dad too, looking almost alive in some of them. But none of their mother.

"Arnold always comes back. It's a violation against our safety rules"

"Safety rules?"

Raph did a double take, confused.

Lizzie kept scrubbing as she explained this, "Number one; never leave the house without a mask. Casey didn't bring his. He never does anymore. Not unless its serious" she explained, refilling the bucket with fresh water. Then her gaze travelled slightly absentmindedly towards Raph's hands- Raph realizing now, that they were out of his pockets, holding on of the frames. "What happened to your hands?"

"N-nothing. I'm-… I'm a boxer" he lied, rubbing the bruised areas now slowly turning purplish and blue. Lizzie then, suddenly and without much explanation, marched over to him, leaning in close as she analyzed the bruises, one hand under her cheek. She looked like a regular Sherlock Holmes wannabe. If sherlock Holmes wore kitchen gloves and oversized clothing that barely fit.

"Did you win?" she asked, curious. To which Raph lit up in a smile, pondering how his life as a boxer might've been and how incredibly good at it he probably would've been, had it not been for circumstances, "Every time"

Then, Lizzie shook her head, turning back to the living room where she began to shake dirt off the pillows, "Liar, liar pants on fire"

"Oh, you're calling me a liar? Me? I am shocked"

"You're gonna catch bacteria. That's also a violation" she mentioned, fiddling in one of the drawers for what turned out to be a roll of bandages, which she tossed him effortlessly from across the room, Raph embarrassingly having to pick it up from the floor. Stupid human instincts… He blamed the body. "You could've just given them to me"

"I refrain from touching strangers"
"Just not letting them in?"

"If they look stupid" she shot back, grabbing a broom from the nearest closet by the stairs. As she started to sweep the floors, Raph began to roll the bandages around his fingers, carefully one by one just like he'd used to. Difference was, now he had four more fingers to make up of.

"Violation's huh…? You have a lot of those around" he muttered, wondering if they'd come before or after the foot clan had paid her and Casey a visit.

"Seventy-one at the moment" she said, again, matter of factly. Like a robot, not caring to even turn around as she spoke. It was obvious the attack must've affected her, not just physically. The way she acted, so consumed in her task, Raph couldn't help but relate it to the way Leo had behaved shortly after his injury. Training upon training upon training non-stop day after day, like it would somehow erase what had happened. Suddenly make it okay enough that, the things they'd accomplish now would somehow make the pain have purpose. Maybe that's why she refused to shake his hand. Just another brute coming into her home, messing up her brother. Raph couldn't blame her if she held resentment for him, though she didn't know the full story.

"I'm sorry, about your brother. But hey, we'll do everything we can to get him out okay? I'm not gonna let those eggheads have their way"

"You talk like my grandpa" she then said, face so empty Raph had, once again, a hard time deducing if she was being sarcastic or not. She mostly just, starred blankly, eyes blank, mouth blank, everything just… completely straightforward.

"One tough grandma then" he said, completing the finishing touches on the bandages, and giving them one last pull to make sure they were tightened properly. Then, he noticed Lizzie's leg again, as she stumbled trying to reach for cloths on the upper cabinet, dragging a big. Like her foot was somehow asleep throughout the most of it, sometimes looking weirdly out of place when she walked. "Did the doctors tell ya, how long before…?"

Lizzie followed his gaze, swallowing her emotions as she turned her back to the living room.

"No. They don't have to" she nearly whispered out, leaning against the counter heavily. She was not going to walk again. She wasn't going to get better. And it was because of them, he realized, heart heavy, feeling anger rising as he imagined how differently things might've turned out if he'd taken the foot clan out when they had the chance. If instead of being indifferent to Leo's warnings, he'd payed attention for once. He'd recognized the danger before it was out of their control. If he'd just cared when it mattered… Now he cared, and there was nothing he could do.

"I'm sorry"

"Why? 's not your fault" she said, brow lifted noncomprehending.

"You're wrong." Now it was his turn to swallow his emotions. Gulping, apologetically, though he didn't get to continue, before the sound of something moving outside made him stop dead in his tracks.

Lizzie let out a sigh of relief, "Arnold-

But Raph was quick. He signaled for her to be quiet, before slowly and unmoving reaching for his sai's. "Wait. " he whispered, as the sound became louder outside the door. Lizzie looked scared, keeping it in though her chest was bouncing up and down nervously, clinging to the broom like it would protect her from harm. The sound became a loud thud, hitting the handle once, then twice, then knocking again as an almost growling sound came, turning into a jingly one. Like metal clanking together, though the hammering of the wood against the flesh was still on-going, making Raph slowly thread his way over the room. Silent, precise, he held the blades in his hands, focused and more than ready to strike at anything that as much as tried to get through that door. Knowing for a fact that it was not Casey hang over off of another bender. So, he let out a sigh, readied to lunch forward when suddenly-

-the door unlocked. And there stood a tall, bearded, gangly man with a beer in his hand and a pale complexion rivaling that of a corpse. The man swayed to the side for a bit, stumbling inside and seemingly not having noticed the two blades aimed at his throat as he entered, though Raph was quick to put them away as soon as the stranger appeared.

"Ah, you got a friend, Lizzie. 'Bout time" he then said, finally noticing Raph as he clapped him bouncily on the shoulder for one moment, and completely ignoring his existence the next.

"Hi dad…" Lizzie, whispered, head down and a lot more stiff in posture than before. Raph breathed heavily, relived he didn't just accidentally make Mr. Jones into a skewered barbeque. Still think I'm being paranoid? Shut up, Leo…

"Sorry, I thought you were… someone… else. I- I should go" he mumbled, struggling to get the smell of beer out of his face. This however, seemed to bother the man a lot.

"Fine! Man comes home to his own house, already you wanna leave, is that how it is? Well don't let me get in the way, boy. Door's right there." He said, pointing a very off balanced arm towards the snowy outside, as Raph struggled to comprehend the person in front of him. A father. And actual real-life parent. He almost couldn't believe it. No wonder Casey turned out as he did, ccompared to this guy, Casey was a freaking miracle child!

Mr. Jones then sundered drunkenly over to the couch, encountering Lizzie on the way who had placed herself far off in the corner, scrubbing away at the glass like it was somehow gonna make her disappear entirely. "What are you looking at? You'll get wrinkles if you keep cleaning that damn glass. No one likes that. Start smiling a bit, why don'tcha?"

She didn't say anything, kept her head down, glancing back at Raph whose bruised fists were just about ready to reopen the wounds if that's what it took.

"I should probably mention, sir, Casey's been arrested"

Mr. Jones didn't bat an eye, "Has he now? Huh. Must be a new record. See Lizzie? I told ya the cops would get him eventually"

"You're not gonna do something?"

The man scoffed, raising his beer bottle into the air as he sunk down into the couch, turning on some sports channel or other, make Raph wonder if this was Mr. Jones hammered, how the shell would a sober Mr. Jones look like?

"Rule of the streets, boy. You get yourself into something, you can get yourself out of it." He continued drinking, turning up the volume as Raph composed himself miraculously enough not to grab the nearest vase and throw it at his skull full speed. But then he locked eyes with Lizzie, nodding her head towards the door and mouthing the words Just go as she scrubbed away. Then, Raph turned around, throw star in hand-

"Oh, nearly forgot-"

and flung it a solid one hundred and eighty degrees from his wrist and through the front screen of the TV, glass breaking as the football players inside, turned into black and white dots of nothing.

"What the hell!?" exclaimed Mr. Jones as Lizzie silently cackled to herself.

"Ups... Butterfingers."

…

He made his way downtown, snow setting on the pavements and not to mention, in his hair little by little, step after step arguing with himself whether or not he should apologize. So, what if Splinter had reached out to wonder boy and not him? He didn't know. How could he? Not remembering anything he'd probably just as soon thought he was crazy than he did thinking his long dead father had returned from the grave. He didn't even try. Maybe that's the worst part. He didn't have to. He never had to, the prodigy, it just happened. All the while Raph had been sitting out night after night, begging for his advice. For a voice, a sign just anything to let him know that he wasn't alone. That there was still hope, that maybe, thing's would somehow work themselves out. Granted, they did. In their own, weird way, but then Leo… of course he'd made the connection. Just like always. That special bond or whatever the shell he'd called it. Why should Raph apologize? He had nothing to apologize for. Nothing. He was just, being Leo. Always the righteous one, right? Always knows what's best, always knows all the answers, what to do… always the better son, even when dead. It didn't make sense. It wasn't fair. And he supposed that's what it all really came down to. Fairness. Because as he'd just as soon learned from his time as a human, life was very much about anything but that.

Then, pulling him out of his thoughts…

Something moved behind him. Raph paused, hearing footsteps- no, slouching. Someone creeping up behind him, mumbling something inaudible and he once again turned to face whoever it was just hellbend on interrupting his brooding time.

"Okay, Mikey if this is another one of your pranks, I swear I'm gonna-

But there was no one there. At least, not on the ground, Raph's eyes led upward to the figure almost hovering above him, growling and grinning, teeth sharp as needles begging to dig themselves into flesh as the deadpanned eyes shone like a stoplight from above.

"Oh no"

---

"Donnie… Donnie! Donnie! Snap out of it!"

As Leo shook, Donnie back and forth his little brother slowly but surely started to have an epiphany. He'd been starring at the tube for two minutes now. The room, slowly getting into focus as the memory of darkness swirling around him started to evaporate. The sounds almost drowning for a moment in a fogginess and dizzy state he couldn't figure out, slowly dissolving and he realized that he was still standing. He didn't pass out. How is that possible? No, no I definitely fell, I remember that much. Argh, everything feels… lucid. Like he just woke up from the longest dream in the world, unable to remember it. Looking down at his hands and fingers, blinking a couple of times out of shock because for a solid moment he could've sworn they were dissolving. Like acid from his skin to his bones, until he blinked only to realize that- he was still in the room. No time had passed it seemed, the ticking was gone, the serum no longer burning his veins... He looked at Layton still hammering away and shrieking behind the glass, creating more and more fractures, which on any other day would've severely panicked the young scientist- except he was still struggling to figure out what just happened. Grabbing his arms, slightly thinner than usual, feeling his pulse, weakened but active, checking for vitals as-

"Donnie, wake up!"

Leo made him come back to reality.

"Wha- what?"

Leo was panting, sweat on his brow and eyes frantically dilated as he looked to his little brother for advice. The mutant still writhed around like crazy, scratching and biting doing basically everything in its power to somehow make… whatever was happening inside to stop.

"What do we do?! He's gonna break out any minute!"

Donnie looked at the time again, remembering. Udnerstanding, all of a sudden light up in his face. But- no it was too soon. It wasn't supposed to happen yet. Not even a week had passed, how was this even possible so early on? I don't understand. Donnie put his hand on the tube, as if that would somehow calm the poor man down, voice dim as he with a shadow over his face managed to mutter it out,
"No… no, he's… he's dying."

"What?!"

And then Donnie had another thought. A horrible, horrible selfish one, but what choice did they have here? It was Layton's life… or theirs. He looked to Leo, ready to bed his older brother for answers on what to do, until he realized of course. It's not really him, remember? It's up to me.

And with that, Donnie made a decision, grabbing his jacket from the hangar and rushing outside of the lab. "Stay, here I gotta see something-

Leo couldn't understand a single word being said, his heartbeat pounding at the least one hundred miles and hour in his chest.
"You don't seriously expect me to just hang back! I'm coming with you!" he protested, though Donnie stopped him in his tracks.

"Yes, you are. You're still wanted, remember? Just- I'll be right back! I know how to save him! I can fix this!"

…

Donnie didn't care that he was seeing double, he didn't care that his legs weren't as strong as they usually were, he didn't care. He didn't have the time. Instead he just kept on running, as fast as he could out of breath, with a pain that fried his lungs to raisins but he ignored it and pushed forward. Took the train, ran the blocks, jumped the roofs and crossed the right building until finally, finally he made it to the water tower. Out of breath, probably completely red in the face and with a winter jacket gulped up in sweat, he fell to his knees, digging through each bag, each book or box he could find, digging and digging and digging as time seemed to drag.

"Come, on, come on, come on, come on!" he started to become desperate, nearly pushing over a frame of Sensei and his brothers in favor of finding what he was looking for but, the more he looked, the more it dawned on him…

They were gone.

The cure. Each canister he'd stored, each fail safe he'd created just gone, vanished in the blink of an eye and he hadn't even bothered to check. Donnie started to feel his chest rise and fall, something icky and hard in his throat making his eyes water slightly as his voice broke, when he realized the truth once and for all. "No… no, no, no, no, no, please… please no… " he whimpered, head in his hands as he crouched forward, struggling to breathe. It was easy. This was easy, he could figure something out, he could figure something out, he could figure something out-

The beeper on the communicator rang. Donnie grabbed it, slowly, defeatedly moving it towards his ear, Leo's shivering voice vibrating through.

"Donnie… He's not moving"

Of course, he was… because that's what happens. That's what was always going to happen, though Donnie had developed a bad habit of convincing himself that he was capable of doing the impossible. But no one was able to fool time. And at the core, that was essentially all he'd bet on at this point. Time. Now quickly running out and he felt hopeless. Absolutely alone and afraid and guilty, something inside him just breaking, once he realized that without the cure, he'd doomed his brothers. And it was all his fault. All his doing.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry I-

Leo quickly collected himself, though he didn't exactly know what the problem was. "Donnie, breathe. You tried. That's what mattered. You tried-

"No! No, you don't understand… it's gone. They're all gone, they took it. How I could I be so STUPID!?"

"What are you talking about?"

Donnie sighed, pulse weakening, and he felt his energy leave along with him until eventually he didn't even have the strength to cry. What good would that do anyway? He could cry all his water out, but it would not make a difference, other than wasting even more time than they'd already done…

"I'm sorry Leo… But I need you to remember. If you don't… we'll all die too" he said, looking at the small hole in his arm where the needle used to be. Only two options left… either, find a way to stabilize the purple mutagen in two days, or…

Find the only person who can make Leo remember.

---

The creature was not unlike Layton, if not significantly smaller in figure and a lot more… well, fur. Like hardened spikes all over its body, moving like a mix of an animal and a zombie, though twice as quick on its feet. Arms stretched out in monstrous proportions, spiked with the black liquid falling at the tips, skin like an otherworldly shooting star. Except instead of fulfilling your wish of finally get proper food that wasn't eaten out of a can, it tried to kill you, one claw after the other biting and scratching and howling.

"Guys! We got a bit of a problem here- WOAH!"

Raph spun to the side, people on the street screaming in terror as the creature used its almost wolflike spikes to navigate the buildings, staying above ground as it lunched out after him aggressively. Guess staying inconspicuous is out of the question… He grabbed his sai, ducked quickly to his knees, sliding in the snow before the mutant could get a chop off his head, and he used the momentum to try and cling onto its back. It was successful at first, Raph hanging onto it for a solid five seconds before being swung mercilessly into the nearest wall, back first. As he fell to his knees, the sound of something snapping somewhere in his bones made him pause for a moment- which also turned out to be a very bad idea. Because as soon as he did, the mutant grabbed him by the neck, and once again forced him against the wall as Raph struggled for breath, using his sai as a last-minute resort to stab it in the spiked arm. It almost didn't budge. Great. And as the monster snarled at him, the nearing wolf-like face of it drew closer, eyes watery for some strange reason Raph for the life of him couldn't figure out why was, as it finally set off to bite his head into pieces.

Before it could, however, something else hit the creature in the face- or more accurately the eyes. When Raph came to his senses, struggling to regain balance, he heard a familiar cry nearby, echoing in the already chaos inducing street.

"HANDS OFF MY BRO! " Mikey yelled, mask over his eyes as he predominantly kneed the mutant directly in the face.

"Mikey! " Raph exclaimed, too relieved to no longer be fighting the beast alone to care about secrecy. Mikey slit through the snow, charging at the creature with both nun chucks in hand, yelling out like a wild man as he was about to wrestle a lion. Difference was, a lion wasn't also covered in a poisoned fur of murder spikes, and a chemical glowing skin to boot. He made it about five feet, before he had to duck, tripping over his shoelaces unceremoniously as the mutant now seemed to target both boys at once. Raph, grabbed his sai, swung as fast as he could in front of the mutant, kicking it away from his brother and ushered them both into somewhere- anywhere the creature would not follow. Mikey, however, was too busy trying to stop the stars dancing around his head to notice it charging at his heel, and Raph panicky searched for anything they could use. Then he looked to the duffle bag, swung over Mikey's shoulder, desperately hollering;

"Mikey! The glitter!"

Mikey shook his head panicky, flipping the bag on his head to emphasize its emptiness.

"I'm all out dude!"
Raph could feel the heat return to his face, "You brought glitter to throw it ONCE?!"
"SEE? This is why we should always wear glitter! You never listen to my ideas!"

"Now?! You wanna do this now?!" Raph yelled, shoving both of them out of the way of the subsequent spike aimed for both of them, each miss presumably only making the creature more and more angry. Honestly, Raph couldn't help but relate. However, after their third, fourth and eventually ninth time of failure in defeating it, both figured that now would probably be a good time to actually come up with a plan. One that did not involve running around in circles, kicking its face in repeatedly and avoiding its poisonous spikes as it shrieked into the night like a toddler.

"Okay, it doesn't like light, right? We just gotta blind it out!" Mikey suggested, too proud of himself to realize the absurdity of the idea.
"WE'RE IN NEW YORK! How is it not already blinded out?!"
"Well, you got any better ideas?!"

And then, Raph had a thought, eyes darting towards the nearest skyscraper surrounding them.

"Funny you should ask" Raph whispered, for the first time thinking like a strategist, as he anxiously watched the creature being just ten feet away from turning his brother into a midnight snack. "Mikey! That building! We can draw it away from the people!" he yelled, flipping over a car and in front of the nearest crowd of people. He jagged the phone out of two teenage girls' hands, both of which luckily had flashlights on their camera, before tossing it to Mikey. Then, he managed to dodge the creature's blade, sliding under yet another car for cover, before retrieving an umbrella and a long coat from an elderly couple. "Mind if I borrow this?" he asked, not really caring, as ultimately the mutant was too busy shrieking in agony to care.

"Uh, Raph, I don't think it's rain season!" Mikey yelled, severely confused as Raph tossed him the umbrella, himself slinging the overcoat over his head like a flying carpet and tried to catch the creature's attention. "Hey ugly! THIS WAY! " he waved him over, for a moment thinking his moment of idiocy would be for nothing, when alas- the mutant seemed to understand. It took one glance with its almost melted eyes towards the shadows cast by both and started at once to charge at both almost desperately. Away from the lights, away from the lamps and the sounds and the car lights, and basically away from everything that contributed to the monster's inherent torment. Despite how much Raph fought against his better judgement. He stopped in front of the fuse box, flinging out his sai and once again dodging a lethal attack to his chest from the mutant, making Mikey look pale with worry. "Raph?!"

"Keep going, I'm coming!" Raph assured him, managing to stab it once near the shoulder blade, and as soon as he saw an open turning around- and stabbing the fuse box repeatedly with his blade. He really only needed the first sign of a spark igniting, for him to jog as fast as humanly possible towards the building, now flickering for a moment wildly in waves. Each floor's light slowly but surely losing power. It was working. The creature followed them as fast as it could, out of the light, towards the darkness, screaming, clawing at them, nearly pulling at their heels until the were close to the top. But before they reached it, Mikey suddenly let out a yelp, stumbling a bit as the creature seemed to have caught his ankle. He of course retaliated, grabbing his nun chunks and flicking them once, causing the sharp end to retract.

"I told you, HANDS. OFF. THE MIKEY!" he yelled, slicing it once as he used the other tip to try to climb further, but the snow was getting in their eyes. It was at this point, Raph decided now might be a very good time to pull out the phones, aiming the flashlight at the beast, though it only lasted for a moment. Not soon after he'd opened the screen, did it turn to black after lack of charge. "Are you kidding me?!"

Then, a wail was heard, the monster now being the one in pain, and Raph lowered his gaze to find that it was coming from Mikey's phone this time, brightly shining into the creature's eyes as the momentum made it slip more and more. He held out his hand, trying by all he had left to reach him, too distract with actually fighting the thing to notice.

Then, a crack, and a loud cut was heard slicing into flesh, Raph with his heart stuck in his throat as he saw Mikey loose grip.

"Argh-"

"MIKEY! HANG ON!" he bellowed, probably loud enough for the entirety of New York to hear it, Mikey still holding onto the trusty chain of his nun chuck, and the blade that had at this moment in time, buried itself into the side of the building. Mikey tried to shake the creature off, but it held resolute, more water escaping its used to be eyes, and suddenly, Mikey noticed something in his gaze. Something that, despite his astonishing and never before seen intense focus and concentration on holding on, made him look into the mutant's face, seeing it for the first time as something… or, someone, he'd met before.
Then, a voice. Slow, gravelly, inhuman, but still, painfully apparent of that of a little kid, fighting its way through the jagged teeth buried throat.

"M…cki… Mi…cKy…."

Mikey's heart stopped, everything happening, stopped, and all of a sudden, he felt like the entire world just stopped moving, because he knew exactly who this was now. And he couldn't focus on anything else.

"... Simon."

But before he got another word out, the sound of the chain breaking his nun chucks in two filled the silence, as they both fell to the ground, plummeting towards the snow.