Before bed, Leo confronted Mike in a small side room of indeterminate purpose.
"What happened last night?" he said quietly.
Mike, who had been examining knickknacks on the shelves, spun to face him. "I ain't tellin' you nothin', see?" he said, in a terrible 1920s gangster voice.
Leo eased forward, cornering Mikey with his mere presence. Mike was fast and agile and could have gotten around Leo if he wanted to, but he was also easily intimidated.
"Okay, I'll talk!" Mike whined. "Casey came, and then Donnie passed out, and then our parents showed up, and then -"
"What?" Leo interrupted.
"Donnie passed out," Mike repeated. "But it's okay. I fixed it! And I'm not supposed to call him that, right? Only 'Donatello' is a really long -"
"Michelangelo."
"Our parents showed up?" Mike repeated in a small voice, and Leo nodded, indicating that yes, that was the occurrence he wanted to hear about. "But they didn't get inside," he said, a little louder. "Casey made them go away. And they didn't see anything. So maybe they don't know we're here?"
Leo rubbed his forehead. "Probably too much to hope for," he said. "But it's probably better this way," he added, before Mike could say anything. "I mean, I… didn't feel good about being out here without Master Splinter knowing where we were," he admitted.
"Yeah, me too," Mike agreed. "But don't tell the guys, okay?" He fixed Leo with his imploring blue eyes. "We're cool with this, but Raph and D need to think they really got away."
"Right," Leo said, after a moment's consideration. "We won't tell them unless we need to. Now go help Donatello with his night medicine."
Mike grinned and dashed out of the room.
When Leo caught up a minute later, Donatello had already taken a spoonful of the brown stuff, apparently without argument. He was severely unhappy about the confiscation of his usual medicines, though.
"Don't need this," Mike said, grasping the tall metal pole. "Or this," and he picked up the CPAP machine, hoisting it like a suitcase.
"Yes, I do," said Donatello, who was sitting up in bed and reaching towards his equipment anxiously.
"Nuh-uh," said Mike. "I am a thousand percent certain you are not going to stop breathing overnight. But just in case -" He passed the supplies to Raph, who was only too happy to take them away and hide them somewhere. "- I'll sleep with you." And he climbed into the bed, right over Donatello and his protests.
"I don't think my girlfriend is okay with this," Donatello said loudly.
"Oh yeah," said Mike, as he snuggled down in the blankets. "You totally owe us stories about your girlfriend."
"I am not okay with this," Donatello said pointedly.
"Don't worry," said Mike. "We do this all the time."
"Leo!" Raph shouted from the other room. "You gonna help me move this bed?"
"Don't tell me -" Donatello started, but Leo didn't hear the end of it, because he went to help Raph drag one of the other beds into Donatello's room. He and Raph settled into it, and then there they all were, in the dark.
"Good night," Leo said, and he fell asleep to the sounds of his brothers - all of his brothers - breathing.
Bright and early the next morning, he rolled out of bed and went to poke Donatello in the shoulder.
"Ohayo," he said softly. Donatello only groaned into the pillow, so he repeated it. "Ohayo!"
"No," Donatello mumbled. "New York."
"Ohayo," Leo said firmly. "Good morning."
"Okay, ohayo," Donatello said, with a truly cringeworthy accent. "Can I sleep for a couple more hours?"
"Iiei."
"Great," said Donatello. "I've already learned good morning and yes. You can teach me more later."
Leo laughed a single ha, and dragged his brother out of bed.
"Okay, okay," Donatello said, as he stumbled down the stairs. "So I take it ee-yeh is no. What's this o-toe-toe business?"
Leo smiled. Donatello's natural curiosity and quick understanding would make him a good learner, if he decided to be cooperative in the process. "Otouto. 'Little brother'."
"What do you mean, 'little brother'?" Donatello followed Leonardo into the empty middle of the living room. Raph had set all the furniture back to rights the previous afternoon, when he had thought no one was looking, and now the early morning sun was casting a warm, welcoming glow over the space. "You told me we're all the same age."
"Well, we can't be exactly the same age," Leo pointed out. "We don't know what the order is. We just found where we fit. I like being the oldest, and Mikey likes being the youngest, so I guess that makes you another middle. You can fight with Raph about whether you're older or younger than him."
"I think I'll just let him decide." Donatello wiped the grit from his eyes. "Okay. I didn't asphyxiate in my sleep and I've already learned three Japanese words. I'm off to a great start. How are you going to make my day even better?"
"I'm going to teach you tai chi," Leo said. "I think you'll like it. It's a nonviolent practice. It's often used as a form of low-impact exercise, but it can also be used for self-defense, if you should ever find yourself in that kind of a situation."
"That's not what I saw you doing the first morning, was it?" Donatello asked.
Leo thought back across the past several days. "No. That was ninjutsu."
"How is that different?" Donatello asked.
"Ninjutsu is the way of the shadow warrior," Leo replied. "It's a secret art that's been passed down for generations. You are heir to the Hamato line, Donatello. You have the right to learn this art, if you want to."
Donatello shifted a little. "It isn't nonviolent, is it."
"Iiei," Leonardo said quietly. Master Splinter hadn't been honest with his sons about that when he began teaching them ninjutsu as children, but there was no use lying to his teenage brother.
"Is that why you carry weapons?" Donatello asked.
"Hai," Leonardo said, nodding to help convey his meaning.
"Tell me about the weapon the fifth Donatello was carrying," Donatello said.
Leo raised a brow. "Are you stalling?"
"No, I'm really curious." Donatello's face was the picture of innocence, though Leo had learned that he rivaled Mikey in his ability to fake it. "I have a lot of choices for things to learn about right now, Leo, and I can't magically absorb any of them. I want information on which ones I should invest my time in."
Leo decided to take him at his word. "The fifth Donatello had a bo," he recalled. "I'm not very familiar with it."
"He called it subtle and versatile," Donatello said.
Leo nodded. "That's true. The bo is a deceptively simple weapon. A skilled wielder can do a lot of damage before you realize what hit you. On the other hand, it can be used for precision strikes that disable without causing lasting harm."
"How long does it take to learn?" Donatello asked.
"We've been training as ninja since before we can remember," Leo said, by way of answering Donatello's question. "We began practicing with novice weapons when we were eight. We earned our spirit weapons when we were eleven." Faster than thought, he drew a single katana and flashed through his most impressive moves. "We think we're pretty good."
"I'm hopelessly behind, aren't I?" Donatello said, as his eyes swept over Leo's steady finishing stance.
"Yes," Leo said, spinning the blade back into its sheath, and returning to his center. "But subete no masutā wa shoshinsha kara hajimarimasu. Every master begins as a novice." He shifted smoothly to the opening stance of the first tai chi form. "Hajime."