Raucous laughter echoed off the graffiti-covered brick walls and down the street littered with empty cans, cigarette butts, and old papers.
"Hey! Hey! Let's see if I can't bounce this one right off his noggin!"
A haggard looking old man in ragged, ill-fitting clothing sat leaning against the wall in the trash-strewn alleyway, his body bunched up as much as it could. Crude crutches lay on the ground next to him, along with the other few earthly possessions he owned, and, underneath an unkempt, filthy grey beard, his face was weathered and worn with decades of living on the streets.
The old man didn't protest or say anything, resigned to his lot in life. He just winced and tensed up in anticipation. Seconds later, a penny soared through the air and hit him on the side of his head, bouncing off his matted hair and clattering to the cement, finally coming to a rest beside several other coins.
Another round of loud laughter erupted from the young street gang members, ranging in age from adult to mere teenagers, who were gathered around a group of motorcycles parked on the side of the street nearby.
"Nailed him!" one of the female teenagers with a dozen piercings and a green mohawk whooped, turning to the skinny bald punk who had thrown it and giving him a high five. "Nice shot, man! Ten points!"
"Ha! Here you guys were moping that we only snagged a bag full of change from that donation box." A heavily tattooed young woman with black lipstick and a ripped leather coat snickered. "Talk about getting your money's worth of entertainment!"
"And we're handing out charity to the homeless as well!" The fat, large man with a spiked collar held up the bag of stolen coins and snickered, before flinging another penny at the old homeless man and hitting him on the shoulder. "We're practically all saints here!"
The young woman in the leather coat reached out to him, beckoning with a hand. "Here, gimme one. I'm going to see if I can't get one to stick in his beard."
"Ooh, like a carnival game? Awesome! I like it!" The fat man snickered, digging out a nickel and flicking it to her.
The rest of the gang perked up at the thought, apparently quite amused by this new twist on the game, and watched eagerly.
The old homeless man winced and tried to curl up into himself more, and a second later, the nickel hit him on his stubble and whisker covered cheek.
"Damn! Missed!"
"Ooh, so close! Let me try!"
"Wait a moment. Hey! Who the fuck is that?"
The ragged old man realized that the coins had stopped hitting him, and his eyes blinked open. He slowly turned and looked up to see a new figure standing over him and blocking out the view of the street momentarily.
Well... this was definitely no gangster. In fact, it looked like this stranger had raided a thrift shop's reject clothing bin. From head to toe, this newcomer was dressed in so many loose and mismatched layers of clothing that it was difficult to make out any details whatsoever about who or what he was. Even his face was completely covered, with a hood pulled down low over his head, a long scarf wrapped around his neck and face, and a large pair of ski goggles over his eyes.
Wordlessly, the heavily clothed figure calmly took a seat on the cement, crossing his legs and positioning himself so his form was interposing between the homeless old man and the street, his back to the members of the motorcycle gang. From the depth of the ragged clothing, a mittened hand reached out and set a steaming styrofoam bowl with a packet of saltine crackers and a plastic spoon down on the ground next to the old man. It was obviously a bowl of soup from the homeless kitchen a few blocks down the road. The old man had been there multiple times before, but it was always so hard to make the walk with his lame leg.
Confused, the bearded old man blinked, and looked between the soup and this stranger, trying to figure out what was going on.
The heavily cloaked stranger merely shifted his canvas knapsack onto his lap, put his mittened hands on his knees, and settled down into an almost meditative pose.
Still confused and unsure, but not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, the old, dirty homeless man gratefully picked up the soup that was obviously being offered to him, and hungrily began shoveling it down, closing his eyes and savoring the broth, as thin as it was.
"Hey! What the hell!" the disappointed gang members behind them protested, and one of them took another nickel out of the bag and threw it at hard as he could at the stranger's back. "Fuck off, dude!"
If the stranger took any notice of the coin that bounced harmlessly off the thick coat covering his surprisingly solid back, he didn't give any indication in the slightest.
As the motorcycle gang behind him booed and hissed their disapproval, Leo calmly meditated, breathing in and out in a controlled, steady rhythm, his nostrils tickling against the scarf covering his snout. A rain of roughly thrown coins bounced off his shell harmlessly as they tried to get him to move, but he ignored them for now.
Hamato Leonardo, eldest son of Hamato Yoshi, student of the Ancient One, and once leader of the Hamato Clan, was currently NOT in a good mood.
He had spent days searching the city, combing through all of his family's favorite hangouts and patrol routes that he knew of. He had gone to all of the favorite junkyards that Donnie liked to visit for things to tinker with, the skate parks and sewer pipes that Mikey adored playing in, and even several seedy bar dives he knew or, at very least suspected, that Raph had snuck into with Casey on occasions in the past.
Nothing. Not even the slightest signs of his brothers.
It was... incredibly frustrating, to say the least.
On one hand, if they were indeed fine and this was intentional, then he was so very incredibly proud of them for covering their tracks and presence so thoroughly.
On the other, though, it was making it very difficult for him to find them, and he was feeling more and more desperate as the days passed.
And all of his other leads had not led to encouraging ends either.
April's old apartment had a new family living in it, a family that he was pretty sure wasn't related or connected to the O'Neils in any way. In fact, he was pretty sure they were speaking Finnish. As far as he knew, April and her father didn't have any Finnish connections. The old antique shop downstairs had apparently been converted into a bakery, so the whole building probably had been sold.
He had no better luck when it came to tracking down Casey. Just like April, the old apartment he had shared with his deadbeat, abusive, alcoholic father was occupied by a new tenant. Leo had thought he had caught a break when he had managed to catch an unlucky, terrified Purple Dragon member in that neighborhood, stopped him from mugging a couple. The thug apparently knew the Jones, if by reputation if anything, and Leo learned that Casey's father was now in jail for some reason or another, which honestly didn't surprise Leo, but the Purple Dragon punk didn't know what happened to Casey or his sister. All he knew was that the hockey masked vigilante hadn't been in that neighborhood for months.
So, unfortunately, another dead end.
And when Leo traveled to the old Foot Headquarters, from where Karai had based her all her operations in her effort to rebuild a new, honorable Foot Clan, all he found was a ruined, burned out shell of a building, half-collapsed and surrounded by a barrier of old police tape, portions of which had pulled free of the thin posts and were now blowing like ribbons forlornly in the wind.
Whoever, or whatever, had attacked his brothers in their home had apparently gone after Karai as well. Leo could only pray that she and Shinigami had made it out okay.
Leo had spent a long time standing quietly by the rubble, feeling in the very air the destruction that had happened while he was gone.
It seemed impossible. Even that seemingly indestructible landmark had been reduced to rubble.
Where the Shredder once ruled.
Where Karai had hoped to raise honor out of the ashes.
Now it sat there, a husk of a once mighty fortress, little more than a public nuisance surrounded by tattered and aging plastic caution tape. The once formidable old cathedral was now reduced to some bureaucratic mess in an office meeting room somewhere, waiting in limbo as different city officials argued over who's responsibility it was to pay to clean up.
Leo had even tried stopping at Murakami-san's noodle shop, figuring that hey, even if he didn't know where Leo's brothers were, they could at least commiserate about being blind together over a plate of pizza gyōza. But while, fortunately, that building still stood, it was no longer his family's favorite noodle shop, but instead an unfamiliar nightclub, with loud bass music thumping out while people lined up at red velvet ropes, waiting to be let in. There was no sign of the kind old blind chef anywhere.
Running out of options, Leo had decided to turn an ear to the streets. There was always much one could learn from the gossip and rumors that passed casually from small talk in parks, coffee shops, and passing in the street. But to do so effectively, Leo had to get close to humans.
So thus his current disguise. After a little digging and cleverness, Leo was now just another nameless unfortunate left to rot on the streets of the city. Ignored and unseen, except for the occasional look of pity or judgmental sneer of disgust, he sat among the humans and listened, hoping to hear any rumors of unusual activity, crimes unexpectedly stopped by unseen vigilantes, or, better yet, three shadowy turtle men lurking about in certain specific neighborhoods.
That had yielded a half-baked rumor of green aliens that seemed to appear sometimes at crime scenes way over in Jersey. The hysterical old woman screeching at anybody who walked passed her wasn't, admittably, the most reliable of sources, but Leo was desperate enough to clutch at even crazy-based straws, and so to Jersey he went.
So far he hadn't found anything in his search, but he wasn't discouraged. If his brothers and friends had gone into hiding, it made sense that they would relocate someplace new. He would keep looking. He wouldn't give up.
He... he just hoped they hadn't moved too far.
Hm. Maybe he should check out the farmhouse. Without a vehicle to drive there, it would be a rather arduous journey, so he'd wait until he was sure he exhausted his options in the city first, but maybe...
"Hey, fucker! Don't you dare ignore us!" This time, an empty soda can clanged against his shell, and, underneath his scarf, he frowned in annoyance.
"Hey. What do you think he's got in that bag that he's holding?" another one of the motorcycle gang wondered to her friends.
"Hm. Probably a dead seagull or something." One of them snickered. "A snack for later."
"Let's just see, should we?" There was the sound of one of the humans sliding off the seat of his motorcycle, and begin walking over towards him. "Hey. Freak. Let's see your bag there."
The homeless man that he was guarding paused in his meal, and his aura seemed to grow a little more tense and nervous as the gang member swaggered closer, confidence in his every step.
Leo didn't move, not in any way acknowledging that he had even heard the gang member at all.
"Hey, are you deaf, stupid?! I'm talking to you!" the gang member, getting a little angry now, stomped the rest of the way towards Leo, and reached down for the canvas travel bag he held in his lap, demanding, "Give me... that..."
His words trailed off in surprised shock and fear, freezing in place as a sharp katana blade was suddenly pressed at his collar bone.
Leo's head was still down, and he had hardly twitched a muscle, but that incredibly sharp sword had come out so fast that it seemed to have materialized from nowhere underneath all that clothing.
"The fuck...?" The rest of the motorcycle gang seemed to be as caught by surprise as their companion was, and they stood there, dumbfounded and not entirely sure what to do.
"I would rethink some of your life choices, if I were you." Leo said in a low voice from under his hood. "Keep tormenting the helpless, and some day you just might learn the hard way that not everybody is as they appear."
"I-I-I..." the gang member stammered, the sharp edge of the katana brushing his throat.
Leo lowered the sword a few inches away from his neck, and gave a slight gesture with it, indicating that the gang member should probably run.
He took the hint, and scrambled back towards his comrades as fast as he could stumble. "Let's go! Now!"
"Really?" one of the guys asked him in disbelief. "Running scared over one dude?"
"He's got a fucking SWORD! Not worth it, man." the guy was already scrambling on his bike, and Leo heard the rumble of the motorcycle engine as it roared to life. "Ain't worth getting one of us killed over. Let's just get out of here!'
The others hesitated, but then got on their bikes, started them up with a rev, and tires squealed as they all followed him. The loud, chugging sound of motorcycle engines faded away in the distance, until it disappeared into all the background noises of the city around them.
The old hobo sat perfectly still for a long moment, the spoon of soup frozen halfway up to his mouth. Then, after a long moment, he brought the spoon up to his mouth, very slowly and carefully slurping another spoonful of soup and obviously eyeing the heavily clothed stranger with the katana warily.
Leo sighed and sheathed his weapon back into the scabbard under his thick, oversized, ragged coat.
On one hand, it might not have been a wise idea to possibly start rumors that an unknown and heavily disguised figure wielding a katana was wandering the streets. The Neo-Foot were still a threat, after all, and were probably looking for him still. On the other hand, perhaps encouraging the rumors that an unknown and heavily disguised figure wielding a katana was wandering the streets might be enough to intrigue other factions into investigating as well. Factions like Karai, or even his brothers.
Gods, he was getting desperate.
As the old, unwanted homeless hobo continued carefully eating his bowl of soup, a spoonful at a time with careful chewing and wary looks thrown towards his silent guardian, Leo occupied himself by twisting about to begin picking up all the scattered coins on the sidewalk by his shell, gathering each one of them up and stacking them neatly by size to set down next to the homeless man.
Rain was pouring down heavily from the skies above, creating a constant curtain of sound as millions upon millions of wet, heavy raindrops crashed down in thick sheets and exploded in tiny bursts upon the concrete of the city.
The heavily covered moving mass of mismatched clothing sat huddled in the abandoned, half collapsed ruins of a church, listening to the constant thrum of rain pelting against the old, wooden rooftop above him and the constant drip-drop of leaks streaming down all around him.
Leo had miraculously found the one dry spot in the entire half-rotted structure, in the old chancel at the back of the church, and was sitting there next to the dilapidated altar table with one heavily clothed knee pulled up and an arm draped across it. Though the ski goggles were still set on his face, concealing his mask and worthless eyes, he had pulled down his scarf a little, exposing the lower half of his face as he slowly took a bite out of the sandwich he had pilfered for lunch. He chewed carefully and thoughtfully.
Hm. Rye bread, ham, swiss cheese, lettuce, pickles, a bit of mustard and mayo...
Honestly, it wasn't bad for a something he snagged from a gas station, but... Heh. For some reason, Mikey's sandwiches that he made for his brothers always tasted so much better than this. Even if he did sometimes add potato chips and marshmallows to them.
He swallowed, then sat there for a moment, just holding the food in his hand and listening to the rain.
He hoped he found them soon. He was getting so tired.
Tired of having to always sleep on the edge of consciousness, afraid that somebody would walk in on his hiding place as he slumbered. Tired of always being on high alert, with nobody to watch his shell. Tired of having nobody to talk to.
Just... he was just tired of being so alone.
But... wait...
No.
Leo chuckled and shook his head. How could he say that, after all that he'd been through? He should know better by now. He was never truely alone, was he? He never had been.
No... There had always been somebody who was always watching out for him, even when he didn't know it.
And gods, did he need him now.
Leo took his sandwich in both hands, carefully peeling off the top layer of bread and extracting the slice of swiss cheese. He paused for a moment, pondering his surroundings, then put the sandwich back together, sans cheese, and held it in his mouth, momentarily freeing up both of his hands as he twisted about to kneel in front of the altar that he sat next to. He set the piece of cheese next to an ancient and dusty mostly melted candle left there years ago, and then poured a bit of his tea into the lid of the thermos he kept it in and set it down next to it. Not the best tea in the world by any measure of the imagination, just cheap tea bags he had managed to snag and hot water from the gas station, but it was all he had.
Satisfied that the offering was set up as best as he could, he settle back down next to the altar, taking his sandwich out of his mouth and exhaling slowly.
"Watch over me, Master Splinter." he breathed out a quiet prayer, leaning back against the broken altar with eyes closed. "And watch over them. Keep them safe. And... Please... Please help me find them soon."
He sighed, and turned back to his sandwich, preparing to start eating once more.
A small squeak had him freezing with the food halfway to his mouth.
A small, slightly damp rat scurried up, sniffed the slice of cheese, and then happily pounced on it, nibbling quickly and finishing off the small cheese piece in a matter of seconds. It curiously sniffed at the bit of tea set out as well.
Leo's unseeing eyes widened under his goggles as he lowered his now-forgotten lunch, and his mind began to race hopefully.
Was... was this...?
Swallowing hard, he turned towards the rat, and hesitantly asked, "Uh... H-hello?"
The rat sat back on his haunches and squeaked at him.
Oh. Oh wow. He... he hadn't actually expected an answer!
Heart pounding wildly inside his chest, Leo twisted so he was now on one knee, hand on the altar. He licked his suddenly dry lips, and hoped desperately that his voice didn't quaver too much as he asked the rat, "Can... can you lead me to my brothers?"
The rat squeaked again, and turned to dart away, jumping off the altar and scurrying through the puddles on the floor towards the sagging, open door.
Startled, Leo scrambled to his feet and hurriedly turned to snatch his canvas traveling bag off of the ground, shoving the remainder of the sandwich in his mouth as he bolted out of the church after the small, fleeing rat.
It was still pouring out, and Leo was getting absolutely soaked, but he didn't care at that moment. He somehow forced the sandwich down with a desperate swallow, coughed, and gasped out, "Mmph! Wait! Not so fast!"
The rat kept going. It's aura didn't give off any hint of fear or panic, so it wasn't running away from him in terror, but it was still scurrying away down the alleyways as fast as it could go.
Leo strained his senses to their limits, trying desperately to keep track of the rat in his world of darkness and keep up with it. Was it really leading him to his brothers?! For the first time in ages, hope flittered in his chest. Oh kami, was he actually going to find his brothers?! Had Master Splinter really sent this rat to help him? Leo still wasn't quite sure what had exactly gone on back on the island with Pangur and the Ancient One, but he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that there was some sort of spiritual intervention on his behalf. Was that what was going on right now?
The rat scurried across the street and turned to bolt down some subway stairs to the tunnels below, but Leo didn't slow down at all, quickly reaching up to slid his scarf back up over his face, hiding it as he dashed past the stunned humans waiting down below at the station's platform. There were a few startled glances and shouts after him, but the scattering of humans all seemed more surprised and annoyed than alarmed. Hidden underneath so many layers of clothing, for all they could tell, Leo was nothing more than another crazy homeless person.
He didn't really care what they thought at the moment, though. All of his focus and attention was on that single, small rat. The small rodent didn't slow down at all, dashing down a maintenance tunnel. Leo followed close behind.
They dashed though a complicated maze of twists and turns through old and half forgotten tunnels deep underground, some of them uncomfortably narrow, and at one point Leo was forced to squeeze through a broken hole in the wall that he had to fight and twist to fit his shell through.
"Wait! Please!" he panted, pushing himself loose and dislodging several small pieces of stone from the hole and sending them clattering across the cement floor in the process. He stumbled forward a few steps once freed, but quickly regaining his balance and hurried to catch back up to the fleeing rat. "Hold on, you're going too fast!"
The rat didn't slow down at all, continuing its twists and turns. They burst out of a side tunnel, and the area around them suddenly opened up into a wide open space, which Leo quickly realized was another subway platform. Once more there were several human yelps of surprise and alarm as a heavily clothed and ragtag figure dashed past them at top speed, chasing a rat, then they were up the stairs and back out in the soaking rain, topside and on the streets above once more.
Leo didn't recognize this neighborhood at all, but he had little time to ponder this as he concentrated all his attention on not losing the rat he was so desperate to follow. His breath came rapid and quick, and his legs burned from the effort, but the excitement pounding in his chest gave him the adrenaline he needed to press on.
This was his chance, and he couldn't let himself fail. Master Splinter had sent this rat to guide him, he was sure of it! He was so close to finally finding his brothers! He would be home again! Oh, please! It had been so long, and he had been through so much! He just wanted to finally go home!
The rat slowed down in an alley behind what smelled like a Chinese restaurant, and Leo held his breath, slowing down as well.
Was... was this it? He didn't sense anything unusual.
Where? Where were they?
The rat scrambled up into the dumpster, and, through the sound of rain, Leo could hear him begin rummaging around.
Still breathing heavy, confused, uncomfortable, and soaked to the scales, Leo glanced around, straining to listen and feel for anything that would lead him home. It... it had to be here, right? This is where the rat led him, after all.
He carefully stepped up to the metal dumpster, where there came sounds of rustling plastic bags and clattering metal cans, and leaned over. "Excuse me? Uh... Is... is this the right spot?"
From the sounds and smells of it, the rat had found and was thoroughly enjoying some old, stale egg rolls drenched in leftover orange chicken.
Leo stood there in the rain for a long moment, listening, his chest still heaving from the intense run.
Wait...
Had he...
Had he really just chased a random rat for over a mile for no good reason?!
Really?!
He had really, honestly thought that he was going to find his brothers tonight. That Master Splinter had unexpectedly answered his plea for help. But... if this was just a normal, everyday rat just going about living his life... then... then Leo had... And his brothers weren't really...
He wasn't going to...
A hoarse, humorless laugh of pure disbelief rumbled softly in his chest, before rising up into a helpless sob as he held his face in his hands.
Oh gods, he really was going crazy!
He had really just been stupid and naive enough to chase a random rat for over a mile!
Leaving the rat to its meal, Leo wrapped his arms around his chest and numbly wandered out of the alley. There was a tall building nearby, some sort of old storage garage or something, with a small canopy over the side door. It was just big enough to block out the rain that was falling down in heavy sheets, so Leo stepped under it and slumped against the door, sliding down until he was sitting on the ground next to a few dented and half full metal trash cans.
He honestly didn't know if he was laughing or crying.
Both, honestly.
He continued to wrap his arms tightly around his chest and leaned his head back against the wall, letting out short, raspy sobbing laughs as he fought back the waves of disappointment and despair that washed over him.
He was losing his mind.
He was obviously going completely and full out nutsville.
No matter how hard he tried, he just couldn't find his brothers. He was alone, and he didn't know how much longer he could take this!
He... he just missed his brothers so much.
And... he was so very tired.
His nostrils flared a little as he took a deep breath in, and a faint but familiar scent registered in his brain.
He instantly froze frigidly in place.
No...
No, it couldn't be. It had to be his imagination...
He bolted upright, clamoring to his feet and looking around desperately with flared nostrils. Where was it coming from?! He quickly grabbed the trash can next to him, reaching down into it and digging around desperately.
And there he found the source of the scent.
An old, dirty cloth rag, smelling strongly of motorcycle oil and grease...
And... and RAPHAEL.
Oh gods...
This rag smelled like his red-banded brother! It-it couldn't be!
Leo gave a little, involuntary whimper as, for the first time in nearly two years, he smelled, unmistakably, one of his brother's scents.
Tears welled up underneath the ski goggles he wore over his mask.
There was no mistaking it!
Raph...
RAPH!
Oh gods! Oh gods, oh gods, oh gods!
Clutching the dirty mechanic's rag like it was the most precious item in the world, Leo turned to the building he had been leaning against. Was... was this...?
He carefully reached out and felt around, trying find some clue as to why this scent was here. There was an electronic number pad installed next to the locked door.
Just... just like the ones Donnie used to...
He swallowed hard, feeling the number pad. He paused for a moment, then took a deep, shaky breath. Trying to keep his hand from quaking too much from pure emotion, he hesitantly typed in the security code that Donnie had made them all memorize.
The door's lock gave a loud click.
Heart racing, Leo reached down and grabbed the doorknob. He pushed open the now-unlocked door, and shouldering his travel bag, stepped inside the building.
"Hello?" he called out cautiously, hopefully, closing the door behind him. "Is... is anybody here?"
It was quiet. It felt dark in the building. There was nobody in there.
But instantly, he could tell that, unlike the old lair, this place was not abandoned.
No, there was still life here. This whole place felt as if it were merely sleeping, waiting patiently for the residents to come back and resume whatever projects lay within these walls.
Leo braved a few more steps in, trying to get a feel of his surroundings. He seemed to be in some sort of garage. There were several vehicles parked in here, along with tool chests against the wall, and workbenches and... and...
And... everywhere, he could smell his brothers' scents. Raph. Donnie. Even Mikey.
Oh gods! This was their garage! This was his brothers' garage! He... he had found them!
Leo felt like sobbing out for joy. He eagerly set down his bag and quickly moved through the quiet, empty room, eager to soak in and touch everything that smelled and felt like his brothers.
He needed to convince himself that this was real!
He needed to convince himself that he had really found them!
He had found his brothers! This was their garage! They were obviously not here right now, but this was where they worked on and stored their vehicles! And... and that meant that, at that very moment, they probably weren't far away. They were close to him! He was close to them!
Oh kami! Where were they?!
He tried to figure out if there was a door that led further in, perhaps to the new lair or something. Hm, there weren't any doors that he could sense, besides the side exit that he had come in and the main garage door. Though... it was strange. Behind one of the walls, he thought for sure that he could sense a hallway, but there was no door, only a solid wall.
Nearby, there was a work desk with a computer on it, with half a dozen dirty coffee cups littered around it. And next to that a shelf filled with junk food, electronic toys, action figures, and stacks of magazines. Probably comic books.
Leo missed reading comic books.
Oh! There! In the middle of the room was a motorcycle! That was Raph's motorcycle!
Everything around him was saturated with his brothers' presence and scents, and even though he was blind, he could see on full display, in every little detail, each of his brothers' lives and hobbies and personalities and quirks. He could almost see them right in front of him!
Lost in the moment, completely absorbed in his long lost brothers' achingly familiar smells, Leo couldn't drink it in fast enough. He just wanted to touch and feel and smell everything!
He had found them.
He was finally home!
Below the garage...
Deep underground...
A red light suddenly flared to life and began blinking rapidly on a panel, obviously part of some elaborate and complicated computer system.
After a few minutes, there was the approaching rumbling sound, the sound of small plastic wheels rolling over a hard, cement floor. There was a very brief flash of orange and green as a wheeled desk chair went sliding past, only to crash into a wall a second later. A glass beaker went rolling slowly across the desk surface.
Then, a three fingered hand slowly rose up from the floor, grabbing the edge of the desk. And an orange mask framing baby blue eyes lifted up to peer over the edge of the small ledge of the console to stare suspiciously at the blinking red warning light labeled 'Intruder'.
A/N
Hm. Wonder who that could be?
I'll be honest, I seriously debated cutting the part with the homeless guy in the beginning out. It wasn't really necessary to the plot, and, regarding the overall story structure, I knew that it would have flowed a lot smoother story-wise if I just put in one single long scene in this chapter of Leo's search, and just added the details of his friends and allies to the section in the abandoned church just before he meets the rat.
But the little drabble with the homeless guy just wouldn't get out of my head, and the thought that grumpy Leo would be all 'Rargh! I can't find my brothers and I'm getting frustrated! I need to go mother-hen something!' was too amusing to pass up.