Disclaimer: they do not belong to me *shrug*. Simply the way the world works.

Last Chapter (because I'm friggin' awful with updates): "Donnie! Leo! What the shell are you guys doing here?"


That question was in the air a bit earlier than he'd expected.

Donatello blanched slightly at the suddenness of it, eyes rising to meet those of his traveling companion. They both seemed to be thinking along the same lines. Mikey was supposed to be more excited over their initial arrival before launching into an inquisition. Were they really so bad at keeping in touch that visiting was cause for confusion?

Some brothers they'd turned out to be.

He'd known that they'd have to break the news to Michelangelo relatively shortly. That was also a part of the plan: tell Mike what happened, get him to agree to help, find Raph and repeat. That way they could find out who was behind this and take them down before someone else got hurt…or killed.

Still, the subject of why they had arrived in San Diego was going to be an uncomfortable one to approach. The glance over their brother's rather to-the-point greeting morphed into a silent argument over who would end up having to break the news to him. Michelangelo, it seemed, was oblivious to the sudden tension between his siblings and so he continued chattering, eagerly ushering them through his rusted door and pushing them towards the center of his home.

"Not that I'm not psyched to see you or anything, 'cause I am, and I did invite you about a million times, right? Oh, uh, you guys can just throw the extra props and stuff to the side, I'll find 'em if I need to later," he added with a distracted wave in the direction of his only slightly stained couch, indicating that they should have a seat. It looked to have accumulated a vast array of styrofoam ninja weaponry and the occasional scrap of tin foil. Donatello set about clearing the sofa with little regard for what landed where.

"I take it business is going well," Leo remarked dryly, ducking a flying foam ninja star and taking the opportunity to observe his surroundings. Mikey's home seemed to consist of a considerably large single room containing the afore-mentioned sofa, an unstable-looking bed and a refrigerator. He caught sight of random games and comics, but not quite as many as he had expected. For the most part it just contained additional props for Cowabunga Carl and a few containers of questionable age. Cluttered, yes, but comfortably so.

It suited him, the eldest decided, very deliberately not looking in the direction of a particular stack of magazines. They were all grown-ups now, and they were all perfectly capable of looking after themselves; more to the point, this was Michelangelo's home and not his. He knew well enough to respect that. Besides, there were more urgent matters at hand here than what made for suitable reading material.

"I guess. Kids always have parties and stuff going on and ninjas are a pretty fashionable theme right now," Mike admitted off-handedly, rubbing the back of his head. He allowed his gaze to settle on his genius brother with a wide grin. "Nice to see someone kept you informed, Leo."

Donnie's mouth flickered in a passable imitation of his little brother's grin, unable to ignore the infectiousness of it. "It's a long ride from New York to San Diego and he's just no good at I-Spy." He stated casually, casting a somewhat teasing glance at his older brother.

"Never was. Of course, you guys could have reveled in the awkward silence of a true cross-country trip if a certain someone would just get himself a P.O. Box and let me mail him a few letters. You know, instead of waiting for random visits to get news."

"I'll be sure to keep that in mind," Leonardo said, rolling his eyes at Mikey's clearly pointed remark and crossing his arms over his plastron. Regardless of the act, he still had the decency to sound like he actually would. "Though I'm sure I'd appreciate these so-called random visits, if they ever seemed to happen."

"Score one for Leo," the youngest said with a snort. "But seriously, since we're on the subject…" He began leadingly, settling on the floor in front of the couch with a plunk. "Something tells me this isn't just a social call. And I've still got my mad Battle Nexus instincts, you know."

And there they went again, tuning him out and disappearing into their own little world like they were afraid of what he was going to think. Like he couldn't be trusted or couldn't handle himself or something. Or maybe, his voice of reason cut in sharply, they were about to throw out some seriously bad news. Mike fought to keep the corners of his mouth from taking a downward dive just in time for Don to become the unfortunate loser of some kind of silent debate. The genius sighed dejectedly, facing his younger brother head on.

"No. It's not just a social call, Mike." Michelangelo's mouth went from fighting a frown to quirking a one-sided smile.

"Need to borrow money or something?" Leonardo shot him a slightly annoyed glare.

"Do you really think we'd spend all that time traveling across the country to borrow money from you?"

The smile grew in size. "Okay, you aren't here for money. Ooh, I know, you're…on the run from some kind of huge crime syndicate."

"Crime syndicate?" The eldest asked disbelievingly, more than willing to run a distraction for as long as he could.

Mikey shrugged in response. "Wouldn't be that surprising, really, considering all the business we had with the Foot back in the day. Right Don?"

Donatello's head snapped up as he was jolted from his thoughts. And of course, of course his brother had mentioned the Foot. Even breaking potentially devastating news couldn't be done without a higher power reminding him of it further. Realizing that Mikey had asked him a question, he quickly nodded in agreement.

It did make sense, after all. Michelangelo quirked a thoughtful eye-ridge at them, clearly mulling over other possibilities in his mind while his brothers stiffened slightly at the mention of their old enemies.

"Who died, then?" The youngest turtle asked in hopes of breaking the sudden tension in the air. His eyes flickered between the two daringly, glinting with subdued sarcastic humor.

This, apparently, was not the question to ask, for they exchanged another weighted look, eyes grim and fatigued and more than a little apprehensive. Blue eyes narrowed slightly before widening in revelation of the probable cause of that look. The half-smile slid from his face as seamlessly as though it had never been there to begin with. Oh hell.

"Guys?" He asked, voice unable to rise above a whisper. "Who died?"

*---*---*---*---*---*---*---*---*---*---*---*---*---*---*

You had to start joking around. You just had to open your big mouth. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Michelangelo resisted the urge to repeatedly slam his head into the nearest heavy object. He should have known there would be some horrific reason behind this visit. His stupid voice of reason had been right, yet again. Maybe it was time for him to start giving it the time of day. On another level of thought, he figured he'd expected some kind of grim news out of this whole affair, right from the start.

But he'd expected 'grim news' to entail something like 'O'Neil Tech tanked' or 'the tunnels around the lair collapsed and Leo's homeless now.' Shell, maybe even a 'Raph sent a postcard and said he left because he hated your guts then and he does to this very day. His hatred for the rest of us burns with enough intensity to vanquish the very sun.'

He loved his brothers and all, but nowadays visits were pretty much limited to emergency situations and bad news and the like. It was just the way things were. Nonetheless, the youngest turtle looked between the other two and wished that this were some kind of nightmare or a ridiculously cruel joke.

But it wasn't. It wasn't, because Donnie was trying not to cry and Leo was wearing his 'disturbed yet angry' face and they were telling him that April was…she really was dead. The Foot clan was back in action and they were down a friend to boot.

Things really weren't looking up for them. Mikey let out a sigh, shaking his head and feeling his face start to crumple a little as the news started to sink in.

"You're…you're sure about this?" He asked, internally wincing at how hoarse his voice sounded as it came out. "It's not that I don't- I mean, I believe you, it's just…you know, sometimes things happen so fast and you think something's one way but it turns out later that it wasn't the way you thought it was, you know, like it was this whole big mess of a misunderstanding and you- you-"

His throat seemed to close everything off in the middle of his sentence and Michelangelo was secretly a little grateful for it; he had the tendency to ramble himself into hysterics when he was really upset about something, and now just didn't seem like a convenient time for that.

But…God, this whole damn situation was just so unfair.

Leonardo seemed to instinctively recognize his little brother's pre-crying expression and carefully relocated from the couch to the floor, hesitating before placing an awkward arm around his shoulders. The eldest held back a slight sigh as his brother jumped at the contact. It had been a long time since he'd faced this sort of situation. Wasn't he supposed to be good at this kind of thing?

Mikey relaxed again and started sniffling, having somehow retained the ability to look like the single most miserable creature on earth throughout the years. Leo shook his head a little. Of all the talents to be imbued with by nature…he wished that his comforting skills had been as natural. Maybe then he wouldn't feel quite so pulled between sympathy or feeling alarmed and pushing his brother off on the only other living thing in the room.

Donnie quietly pulled a pack of tissues from his duffel bag and offered it to the pair, eyes slightly distant. "Sorry, Mikey," he said softly. "There was really no mistaking it, as far as this went."

Michelangelo took a breath, wiped his eyes on the back of his hand and nodded. This probably wasn't the right time to start bawling like a baby; at least not if the look his brothers were trading was anything to go by. Crying never really accomplished anything as it was. Eight years or so ago, he would've received a smack to the back of the head from Raph and a very polite request to focus from Leo. Just the memory was slightly irritating. For all the friction those two supposedly had, they were pretty good at double-teaming it.

"Okay," he said, voice a little firmer than it had been before. "April's gone and the Foot are back: and you guys obviously have some sort of plan of action. What exactly do you wanna do?"


Uh...*shuffles in quietly* Hi. So it's been a while, but yeah, there was that fifth chapter. It's a bit longer than chapters prior, so hopefully that prevents violence- *ducks*

IF YOU KEEL ME, NO MORE CHAPTERS FOR CHOO.

Thanks for beta-ing again, Kallasilya! *bows in gratitude*