Title: One Hand Clapping
Author: Stormy1x2 (travelingstorm)
Words (fic portion) for chapter 4: 5551 (approx 12 OpenOffice pages)
Rating: PG13 for language
Pairing: Mention of April/Casey, Casey's mom/dad
Summary: Book 1. Casey learns not all battles can be won with a hockey stick, and April, and the TMNT learn there's more to their so-called 'simple' friend then they ever dreamed.
Notes: Beta-read by the wonderful Red Rebel, who is a great source of encouragement. More back story here on the Espositos, but yes, the guys make an appearance.
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Adelina had always been a very strong woman. As a child, she'd been a rough and rowdy tomboy, and completely unapologetic about it. Instead of Barbie dolls and ballet lessons, she asked for Batman comics and a baseball glove to play pickle with her dad. As a teenager, the other girls in the neighbourhood liked to wear frilly sun-dresses, or pastel shirts and fancy bell-bottom jeans with flowers and rainbows, while she ran around in torn off shorts and old t-shirts that let her work out more freely. She had never been considered delicate.
Now her sister, she had been delicate. Caterina Esposito had been born prematurely in the mid-sixties, and was a sickly, though happy, baby. Always referred to as fragile, weak, and frail, it came as no real surprise when she passed away at the tender age of three. Adelina had been eight years old at the time.
If she thought about it, Adelina could probably attribute her dedication to being strong to her sister's death – could probably pinpoint it to the very first time after the funeral when someone had callously remarked that the baby had been too weak to live for very long. That had struck a chord with her. Adelina had always been a fan of sports, and when she turned fourteen and discovered the weight room at her high school, she made the decision to be as strong as she could possibly be. No one would ever call her weak.
She had pushed herself to her limits, building her physique beyond what was considered by social norms to be acceptable. Guys at school had teased her about being 'one of them' until they learned she had a nasty right hook that accompanied her new muscles. Girls shied away from her, both intimidated by her new-found power, and amused at what she had done to herself. Adelina had never cared about people's opinions of her, and her parents had always been supportive of everything she'd ever done, so it made no difference to her how she was perceived by the general public.
Then she had met David Jones at a competition for female bodybuilders in 1980. The sport back then for women was still in its infancy, but was gaining ground thanks to the popularity of women like Rachel McLish, a personal hero of Adelina's. An eighteen-year-old Adelina had gone, not to compete, but to see how she measured up size-wise, and to see what a competition was really like. She had seen a handsome young man avidly applauding one of the competitors, and she had spontaneously asked what he thought of the women on the stage.
Ex-hockey player David Jones was a fan of all competitions, and a big supporter of women in sports, saying they were just as tough and capable as males. He claimed his view was a direct result of being raised by a woman who could take on any male and win, without lifting a finger or raising her voice. 'Now that's power!' His mother had commanded respect, and had trained that into her son as best she could. David was impressed by the women competing, especially since they faced great opposition from a large sect of society that seemed to want them back in the kitchen, slender, gentle, barefoot and pregnant.
Adelina found herself quickly falling for the young man, and within six months, they had been married. Casey had been born less then two years later.
Despite getting married and having a child, Adelina was still out to prove herself to everyone that she was still strong, and she got herself back into shape quickly. With her husband's complete support behind her, she entered, competed in, and won the National Physique Committee championship, giving her the right to compete in the Miss Olympia's in 1985. She didn't make it past the first round, losing to competitors like Cory Everson and her hero McLish, but by that time, the part of her that had pushed her on had finally been appeased. She had made it to a level that she was happy with. She knew she was strong. She could retire with no regrets, and focus on raising her son.
After her husband died, Adelina had found herself flagging. She had lost her husband, lover, and best friend in one blow to gang violence, and her father died in a car crash not a year later. Had it not been for her son, she might have given up.
Then the part of her that had declared she would show her strength to the world, lifted up its voice inside of her, and she'd clawed her way out of the pit of self-despair she'd found herself in. She had to be strong for her son, for her mother who was also suffering, and for the good of the family business. She'd had her moment of pity. Enough was enough.
She went on and raised a strong son who respected women and protected innocent people, like his friend Steve, who all but had 'victim' written across his forehead. She had run Esposito Communications for almost two years, helping it stabilize, before finding the best possible candidate to take it over. She took care of her mother, and checked in on her mother and father-in law, making sure they were okay and coping after the death of their youngest son. She toughed it out, and was the rock of the family.
She had devoted her entire life to making herself a survivor. She was strong. She always had been. She had always believed she would be.
The disease now taking up residence in her body said otherwise.
Returning from the city late afternoon, Adelina had made it to almost midnight before the nausea completely overwhelmed her self-restraint, and had barely made it to the bathroom before emptying her stomach into the toilet. Coughing and heaving, she retched and retched and tried in vain to stop. Her stomach rolled and churned, her muscles aching as they flexed and heaved, bile splattering in and around the bowl, flecks getting in her hair that hung in clumps around her face.
Finally the assault on her system slowed, and finally stopped, and she sat on the floor, panting, tears of pain and exhaustion welling up at the corners of her eyes. She had an arm wrapped around her stomach protectively, as though the action would hold another incident at bay. Her head ached, spots were dancing in front of her eyes, and if the uneasiness in her gut didn't make her hurl again, the blurred vision would. She closed her eyes to block the blurry, shifting world, and rested her forehead against the toilet seat edge, not caring that her hair was probably dangling into the resultant mess. Weak. She felt weak, for the first time that she could remember since that dark time when her husband died. All of her vaunted strength was gone.
Footsteps resounded on the floorboards in the hallway, heading towards the bathroom. A concerned voice called out, "Ma?"
Maybe her strength wasn't completely gone. Somehow, Adelina found it within herself to stretch out with one foot, kicking at the door feebly, until it swung shut. Two seconds later, there was a heavy rap on the wooden paneling.
"Ma?"
"Give me a second," she croaked out, trusting that her son wouldn't invade her privacy until she gave him permission. He knew better. Silence reigned for a few seconds and then Casey sighed.
"One minute ma, then I'm coming in whether you like it or not."
Adelina stifled a groan, and slowly pushed her self up, using the toilet as a handhold. Her leg muscles had the consistency of over cooked spaghetti, and as she stood, wobbling slightly, she transferred her grip to the counter. She turned the cold water on in the sink, throwing a small hand towel under the spray until it soaked through, and then wrung it out a bit, scrubbing it over her face, and then wiping away the worst of the mess in her hair. She'd still need a shower, but aside from the white skin and the dark smudges under her eyes, she decided she could almost pass for normal.
Taking the towel, she gave a quick swipe around the toilet seat and then dropped it to the floor. She pushed it around the tiles with her foot, cleaning the worst of the spill, before grabbing and tossing it in the small hamper in the corner. She flushed the toilet and washed her hands again.
Finally, she opened the bathroom door, a second before Casey could grab the handle himself. Her son stood there, eyes wide with concern and worry, body stiff with tension. She looked at him, mustered up all her remaining strength, and said, "What, you've never seen a woman puke before?" She jabbed him in the chest. "If you and April plan on giving me grandkids someday, you'd better prepare yourself for at least six months of this."
Adelina ignored the obvious lie of her statement. Even if Casey and April were so inclined, she was most likely never going to see any offspring they could produce. But despite the depressing undertone to her words, they still had the result she'd been counting on. Casey's face blushed bright red and he started sputtering. A faint smirk replaced the matter-of-fact one she'd been wearing. She knew how to play her son so well.
But Casey surprised her. He stopped garbling about April and kids and 'not yet, not YET' and focused back on her, his eyes narrowed in realization.
"You're trying to distract me," he accused.
Adelina nodded. "Is it working?"
"No!"
"Well, it was worth a try," she shrugged. "Be a dear and go get my robe from my bedroom, will you? I'm going to have a shower and clean up a bit before I go back to bed. You should go back to bed too."
"Don't change the subject," Casey growled. "The doc said you'd feel sick but you sounded like you was dyin' or something. Did you throw up blood or anything?"
"If I'd known you wanted a sample, dear, I wouldn't have flushed the toilet," Adelina said, glaring at him. "I know what to look for, Arnold Casey Jones. I read the same damn papers you did, and I was there when the doc told me about side-effects. I'm the one whose sick, dammit! Let me handle it!"
She stopped suddenly, her fingers gripping the door tightly, eyes squeezed shut. Casey didn't deserve to be yelled at, not like this. He was worried about her, and this was probably the first time he'd ever seen her sick. She'd always hidden her illnesses from him when he was younger. She was the parent, not him. She took a deep breath, and looked up to meet his worried blue eyes. The same shade of blue as his father, she mused thoughtfully. And David would be doing the same thing Casey is, if he were here.
"Let's try this again," she suggested carefully. "I feel much better now. I was sick, but I didn't throw up any blood or internal organs, even though it sure felt like I did. Now I feel disgusting because I wasn't as careful as I should have been while throwing up, and all I want to do is take a nice, hot shower before going back to bed."
Casey watched her, as though trying to figure out if she was lying to him, before nodding his head curtly, dropping his gaze. "Okay ma," he said quietly. "I'll get your bathrobe." He turned quickly, and moved off down the hall.
Crap.
When he came back, he placed the folded robe on the counter, but before he could make another quick exit, Adelina laid her hand on his arm, stopping him instantly. She wouldn't be able to sleep unless she addressed this first. She cleared her throat, coughing twice before making an attempt to clear the air.
"I scared you," she said roughly, having a hard time meeting his eyes. "I'm sorry. I was upset, and I'm sorry that I took it out on you. I..." she swallowed hard, which tasted exceptionally foul with the bile still sticking to the back of her throat. "..I think I scared myself."
She watched as Casey's eyes widened in shock at his mother's admission. And why shouldn't he be shocked? When's the last time I ever admitted I was scared of something?
"You haven't said you were scared since the night before dad died, when you didn't want him going out," he breathed.
Adelina's heart clenched. Oh yeah. That would be the time. "Yeah, well, second time for everything," she muttered. Her blood was rushing through her head, thudding in time with her heart. She brought a hand up to rub wearily at her temples. This was not helping her headache in the slightest.
Apparently the move made Casey snap back into himself, letting her off the hook for her revealing words, and she gave a silent sigh of relief. "Ma, go have your shower, and then go to bed," he ordered gruffly.
Adelina gave him a dry look. "What a good idea," she said wryly. "I never would have thought of it myself."
Casey had the decency to look somewhat abashed for keeping his mother from getting to bed sooner, and he closed the door gently. With a sigh, Adelina started the shower and took off her soiled pajamas. The faster she did this, the faster she could go to sleep and try to forget the night's unpleasantness. And since she'd cleaned the wost of it, Casey could finish off the bathroom more thoroughly in the morning. The thought of her son actually cleaning something for a change cheered her, giving her a bit of energy, and she wound up taking a little longer in the shower then she'd planned, enjoying the pulsing hot water for as long as she could.
It was amazing what pleasure you could take in the smallest actions, once you knew there were so many worse things in life.
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The next day found Casey out in the barn, playing with the old tractor he and Sid had been joking about just the day before. It was rusted through in some spots, and the leathery seat had been eaten away by the efforts of both time and the local field mice, but the engine itself wasn't in such bad shape. Casey had found the keys still hanging in the small box on the barn wall, and although it chugged, sputtered and conked out, those very signs proved to Casey there was still life in the old girl. At last, he thought, grinning to himself. A worthy challenge.
At least it gave him something to do. And it got him out of the house. He had his cell phone on him, and his mother knew to call for him if she needed his help with anything, but the events of the previous night had left him a bit unsettled.
He knew this was long overdue in coming. His mother had been dealt the kind of blow everybody hoped they'd never get, and she'd been walking around all week like it wasn't her life hanging in the balance or something. Casey had wanted her to rant or vent or do something that proved she wasn't trying to sweep the problems under the carpet, and last night, she had. She'd told him she was scared.
If his mother was scared, then Casey was downright terrified. His mother was the stuff of legends, built up in his mind as solidly as the Rock of Gibraltar, and to hear her finally admit that she was afraid...well, Casey found himself wishing he'd never even thought about wanting her to face reality.
Be careful what you wish for, he mused darkly. He'd wanted his mother to start acknowledging her illness. She had. Now he didn't want to hear about it anymore.
He turned his attention back to the engine in front of him. His toolbox was open on the ground beside him, and he traded one tool for another, plunging his hands back into the guts of the machine. Mainly it just required cleaning, some tightening here and there. Two spark plugs needed replacing – he knew there were extra parts somewhere in the barn. It would never be as 'good as new' – his grandfather had bought it used, and it was older then Casey was – but it would run.
Couple'a days and I'll have it working as good as it did before it ever hit the barn wall. His eyes flickered over to the very wall he'd been thinking of, seeing the warped indentations in the sturdy wood from the incident almost eighteen years ago. Sid had screamed in terror when the front of the tractor hit the barn wall, not realizing one needed to go a little faster then five miles an hour to break through.
Sid. Now there was a surprise. He'd never in a million years thought he'd meet up with his cousin again, not after their last encounter, and certainly not in a hospital waiting room. Not to mention settling their past, coming to accept each other as cousins – as family – again. Casey wasn't one hundred percent sure he trusted his cousin – he doubted he ever fully would – but that seemed to mean less to him then the fact that he was back in Casey's life in general. Whether that stayed a positive thing, well, only time would tell for sure.
Speaking of Sid, he had promised to come up to the farmhouse in...Casey thought about it. Three days? It was Tuesday, his mother had her next appointment...Friday. Yeah, three days. Sid was going to meet them at the hospital and come up for the weekend. Spend some time bonding or something, rebuilding family ties. Basically, learn about each other all over again. It was a little nerve-wracking, but at the same time, Casey felt a surge of anticipation at having the Sid he remembered at the farmhouse once again.
Casey traded his tools for the cloth dangling from his waistband, and began to wipe his hands off. If he didn't get the worst off before entering the house, his mother would make him clean the bathroom again. Casey shuddered. Once was more than enough.
There was the sound of footsteps crunching in the leaves that were beginning to fall off the trees. Casey turned around, and his eyes went wide in surprise and shock.
"YOU!"
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Adelina glared at the plate of apple slices she'd cut up. She had been feeling a bit hungry, but by the time she'd finished preparing her snack, her appetite was gone, and instead of salivating, the tasty, tangy smell of the fruit was now making her sick.
This is not fair.
Pushing the plate aside, she sighed and got up for the saran wrap. Maybe she'd be hungry later, and the apples would keep for a bit. Sprinkling a bit of salt on them to keep them from browning, she wrapped the plate tight and stuck it in the fridge.
The doctor had given her drugs to help counteract her symptoms, but she absolutely hated the idea of putting anything else in her body. With the exception of the night before, she hadn't reacted bad enough to the chemo treatments to warrant intervention via drugs. At least not in her mind.
She should find something to do. She was probably feeling bad because she was bored, and had far too much time to dwell on negative thoughts. That was probably why she'd been snarking at her son all morning, until he'd finally been driven outside. She didn't handle pressure well.
Maybe there was something on TV. They had reception on the TV now, wonder of wonders – sometime back, Casey had a satellite dish installed on the property. She had wondered why he'd put forth the expense since he wasn't there that often, but he'd muttered something about never dealing with 'him' on a long-term basis without cable access or a sedative ever again, and had begged her to drop the subject. Adelina shrugged. It wasn't her business. The farmhouse belonged to Casey, no matter that he kept calling it 'grandma's place', and he could do whatever he wanted with it.
She filled a glass with water from the fridge and then wandered back out into the main room, dropping onto the sofa with a sigh. Her energy levels were lower then they usually were, but she was determined not to take a nap. Naps were for children, and she was no child. Grabbing the remote, Adelina turned the TV on, propping her feet up on the footstool she'd brought over from the side wall.
Nothing. Three hundred blasted channels and absolutely nothing was on. She contemplated watching Doctor Phil, but decided that the new TV Casey'd had put in (sometime around the Great Satellite Installation, she figured) was too nice to break via remote through the glass the first time that patronizing drawl got on her last nerve.
Maybe a movie?
About to get up and investigate the DVD offerings on the shelf next to the TV, Adelina was stopped by a strange sound. Casting her gaze around the room, her eyes settled on Casey's duffel bag by the door. It was beeping insistently at her.
I thought Casey had his cell phone with him, she thought, reaching down and picking the bag up. She sat back down on the sofa and unzipped it, following the beeping sound until her questing fingers grasped a circular object and pulled it out.
A turtle shell?
"This is not my son's cell phone," she murmured, turning it over in her hands. Seeing the little latch on the side, she thumbed it, and watched as the shell sprung open. A small view screen went fuzzy for a second, and then cleared.
Adelina stared blankly at the shocked look on the small green face for a second before a muffled curse escaped the other...person?...and the screen abruptly went dark. Adelina waited another few seconds, but when the green person didn't come back, she gently closed the lid and set it back down on top of Casey's duffel bag.
A tiny grin stole across her face. Well, she thought, a bit dazedly. I did tell Casey he'd have to tell me about the giant turtle and the big rat someday.
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Casey backed away slowly, eyes held up defensively. "Easy there, you know me, right? I didn't do nuthin' to ya." He aimed his finger at the one advancing towards him. "I helped save your life!" His back struck a tree, and kept him from retreating any further.
The Green Man – or Woman, rather, gave a small questioning growl, and leaned forward, bumping her massive head against Casey's chest. She snuffled around him, sniffing and licking her chops, looking for something. Casey relaxed a fraction, bringing one hand up to lightly pat her on the head.
"I ain't got no pistachios, girl – it was a buddy of mine who had them," he grinned. "He ain't here, ipso functo, there aren't any."
The Green Woman seemed to pout at him, and she turned her head to the side, letting out a soft 'whuff'. Two answering sounds rang out, and her cubs suddenly tumbled into the small clearing, gallumphing over and pushing up against Casey. The Green Woman backed away, content to let her children do her dirty work. Casey snickered as two cold wet noses poked him on the arms and snuffled all over his t-shirt. One of the cubs stood up on its hind legs, looking Casey in the eye before licking him on the cheek and sniffing his neck, letting out a sneeze.
"Okay, that was gross," Casey groaned. "Down, fella. Down!"
Surprisingly, the two cubs listened to him, the smaller of the two backing away slightly, the bigger one dropping back to all fours, tilting its head quizzically. Casey smiled and crouched down, holding his hand out. He laughed outright as they pushed against it, fighting each other to have his hand on their head, and he obligingly put both hands to work, scratching each one gently.
"I guess you do remember us. Well, at least your mother does." Casey looked over and saw the Green Woman watching him placidly, a branch full of leaves in her mouth. "Well, it's nice to know you trust me."
She snorted at him and began rooting through the bushes for more choice leaves. Casey chuckled, and let the cubs tackle him, rolling with them on the ground. He was surprised that they were very careful with their claws, though they weren't so careful with their strength. Casey had the breath blown out of him in a rush as two heavy paws landed square in the middle of his stomach.
Suddenly a growl came from the Green Woman, and Casey watched as the offending cub raised his paws quickly, putting them back on the ground, before leaning over to sniff Casey's stomach, and offer a tentative lick to his t-shirt. Casey rubbed its head.
"I'm okay, ya little goob. Just be careful – you're stronger then I am!"
Casey had heard all about the origin of the Green Man from Donatello, soon after the turtles had come back from yet another trip to the Underground City. A place he'd heard a lot about, but had never seen personally. It was hard to believe that this creature was a descendant of the human race – had once been a human, before the E'lyntians had gotten their crystals on it. He supposed it accounted for the Green Woman's intelligence. Something she'd obviously passed down to her cubs.
The Green Woman raised her head and scented the air, nostrils quivering. Then she ambled over, giving a low cough. The two cubs returned to her side, and they melted back into the underbrush. Casey watched them leave.
"Guess playtime's over," he muttered. He hadn't been expecting that when he'd come outside. Standing up, be brushed off the twigs, dead leaves and bits of the forest carpet from his pants. He gave a few futile swipes at the back of his shirt and then decided to ignore it. It was getting on in the afternoon – almost dinner time. Time for him to head back too.
He kicked his boots against the stairs as he went up them, trying to knock off the worst of the mud and dirt, before opening the door. His mother was sitting on the sofa, and she looked up as Casey came into the room.
"Hey ma," he said cautiously. The tension he'd just gotten rid of during his impromptu wrestling match suddenly rocketed back. He wasn't sure what kind of mood she'd be in, especially after last night, and the way he'd escaped that morning.
She smiled at him, and he relaxed a bit. Then he saw his Shell Cell sitting on his bag in front of her. His hand automatically went to his pants pocket – only his cell phone was there. He could have sworn he'd brought the Shell Cell. Except he obviously hadn't. He swallowed, tension back and ratcheting up to twenty-two on a scale meant for ten.
"Uh..." He blinked as she reached down and picked up the turtle shell, before tossing it at him. He fumbled it for a second, and then gripped it tightly. "Ma?"
She winked at him, and reached for her water. "You got a call."
Casey looked from her, to the Shell Cell, and back to her again. "I, uh, did?"
"Mm-hmm." She sipped her drink slowly and Casey fumed internally for a second, knowing she was enjoying his torment. Finally, she set the glass down and leaned back against the sofa. "Remember I told you one day you had to tell me about the turtle and rat I saw in the barn last year?"
Casey sighed, seeing what was coming.
She smirked and folded her arms. "I think it's story time."
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Damn, damn, double damn, goddam SHIT! Raphael sat straddled across his bike in the empty warehouse that served as a garage for the Battle Shell. He glared at the Shell Cell in his hand, hoping and praying that he'd been too fast at turning it off for Casey's mother to get more then a confused blur, but the sinking feeling in his gut was not very reassuring.
Across the room, Donatello lifted his head. "Raph?"
"Damn, damn, DAMN," Raphael repeated, squeezing the communicator until the edges started biting into his hand.
Donatello glared, giving a pointed look to the nearly compressed Shell Cell. "If you break it again, I am NOT fixing it tonight."
Raphael looked at him, ignoring the comment. "I think Casey's mother saw me."
"What?"
Behind them, the elevator had risen again, and Leonardo's form filled the doorway. He stood there, glaring at Raphael, who valiantly resisted the urge to give his brother a one-finger salute. Instead, he gestured to the Shell Cell.
"I was trying to reach Casey," he growled. "How was I supposed to know he'd leave the Shell Cell lying around for his mom to find?"
"This is just perfect," Leo groaned. "Like she wasn't suspicious enough before."
"Whaddaya talkin' about?" Raph asked, confused. He waved the communicator at his brother. "This is the first time she ever saw me!"
"That's not what I'm referring to," his brother said with a sigh. "Remember back at the farmhouse last year? When April first met Casey's mother?"
Donatello joined them, wiping his hands off. "April said you and Master Splinter helped her pass all of his mother's 'tests'."
"Yes. What we didn't mention was that somehow, she noticed what we were doing. She didn't force anything out of Casey, but she did say that one day, she wanted to know the full story behind the 'big rat' and the 'giant turtle'." Leo rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "She's a remarkably perceptive woman."
"She must be if she even noticed Master Splinter," Raphael said, highly amused. "Guess you're not so perfect after all, eh Fearless?"
Leonardo glared at him. Donatello held his hands up, as though trying to keep the peace, and Raphael reluctantly backed off. The purple-banded turtle waited a seconds, as though to confirm that they weren't about to break out in battle, and then began chewing over the information he'd absorbed.
"So this woman knows about Leonardo and Master Splinter, and now she knows about Raphael," he said thoughtfully, musing out loud. "Of course, she may not know that you two are different people – she might just assume Raphael is the same one she saw at the farmhouse."
"What are the odds of her dropping this, do you think?" Leonardo asked, somewhat hopefully.
Donatello shrugged. "No clue. Though, if she had Casey's Shell Cell, either she already knows about us, or she's about to. I theorize that she found Casey's communicator and answered it when Raph called, which means either Casey wasn't there, or he forgot to make sure he had it on him when he left. Which means she has to return it to him, and she'll probably mention the little green man on the screen --" Donatello shot a look at Raphael. "--and she's probably smart enough to tie it in with seeing Leo last year. Of course, this leads to Casey automatically trying to deny our existence--"
"--in which case, we're screwed," Raphael finished. "Casey can't lie for shit, and mother's are supposed to be professionals at catching their kids in a lie."
"That's an awfully huge leap to make, Don," Leo said doubtfully. "Raph, you shut it off the instant you saw it wasn't Casey – maybe she'll just think she was seeing things?"
"You said so yourself she's a highly perceptive woman," Donatello pointed out. "And we can hope for the best in this case – that being that she dismisses Raph's gaffe from her mind – or we can prepare for the worst – that she does tie everything together." He gave his leader a very pointed stare. "Might I remind you, that our secrecy would then rely on Casey's ability to lie convincingly to his mother?"
Leo thought about that for a second. Then he dropped his head, sighing. "Well, what's one more human knowing about us?" he muttered sarcastically. "Next to Karai, Hun, Baxter Stockman, the Foot, Casey, April, the Silver Sentry, Leatherhead, Angel, and all our homeless friends, I'm starting to wonder if there's anyone who doesn't know about us. Maybe we should do what Mikey's been suggesting, and start offering guided tours through the lair."
Raphael snickered. "'Snark' doesn't really suit you, Leo."
A faint grin appeared on his brother's face, despite his apparent reluctance to let it. "Stifle it Raph." Another sigh escaped him, and he turned back to the elevator. "Come on. We'd better let Master Splinter know about this. If there's a chance Casey's going to tell his mother about us, we'd better make sure everyone is prepared."
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End Chapter 4
End Notes: See? The guys made an appearance! And you'll be seeing more of them in chapters to come.
This is the shortest chapter of them all, and the next one will be about the same, so please bear with me. :) I don't think this was the best one I've ever done – I've read it over and over again and it still sounds...choppy, or something, but I've done the best I can with it. I hope you enjoy it, and let me know your thoughts.