Mikey kicked his two-toed feet up on the stool in front of him, his pale gray eyes narrowed in concentration as he carefully tapped the A button of his GameBoy. He watched, eyes inches away from the tiny glowing screen. He listened to the tick and ding of the Celadon City slot machine.

"C'mon, c'mon, c'mon…" He urged the tiny slot machine, hoping that the 7s would line up for him. It spun, and spun, and slowly pixels fell into place. He threw up his fists in the air. "Whoo!" He grinned, spinning on one foot. "Awright! Mikey, bringin' in that sweet, sweet Poké-Moolah!"

Leonardo looked up from his book. "You better not be spending all our money at the slot machine, Mikey. We need more Super Potions to beat Erika."

"But…" Mikey held up the grubby GameBoy with its cracked L button to his brother, eyes big, wide, and full of pleading for elder-brother approval. "I'm workin' on getting us money for Dratini, bro."

Leonardo leaned away from it, eyes narrowing as he very, very slowly pushed his brother's hand away. "I don't want to know how many more Team Rocket grunts I need to turtle-wax to cover up what it takes to keep Slash from fainting again in a Grass-type Gym. Just… don't lose all our cash on the Game Corner."

"Don't worry, bro!" Mikey said, cheerily grinning his gap-toothed grin. "I swear on my ninja honor, I will keep our Fifth Turtle Bro alive!" He spun around in the broken office chair at the end of their living room in the Lair, happily engrossing himself in what Leo knew would be several hours of fun for Mikey, and endless hours grinding battles for him and Raph to recoup their lost cash.

One single video game, and it was a copy of Pokémon Green. And they all had to share it. Mikey took the household video game more seriously than the others did. Splinter only allowed it because as often as it brought Mikey and Raph almost to blows over a stupid game, it forced them to share and cooperate. Donnie was temporarily grounded from it, given that he speedran the game and got their entire team of 'mons to Level 100 in a single sleepless night. The reset was a truly, truly painful moment for them all. Just one of the facts of life when you grow up in a house full of brothers.

Don was out with Splinter, getting blankets and a propane tank for the heater. Today was October 1st. That meant that on top of their usual pains finding food, gas, and money, their family had to get ready to winterize the Lair. That came with a massive list of chores: checking the insulation, clearing tunnels of debris, re-caulking the front door, digging out winter clothes, stocking food and water, and a dozen other things. The winter to-do list formed the thin paper line that kept them from getting swept out to sea by the snowmelt rushing from the streets. Just one of the facts of life when your family's home was in a storm sewer.

Leo put a bookmark in his book, closing it and leaving it on the split and cracked sidetable. He stood up and walked over to his brother. He held out his hand. "Alright, my turn on flood lookout."

"Aww." Mikey pouted, pulling the GameBoy closer to the plastron of his shell. "But I thought it was still my turn!"

"You've been 'on watch' for three hours." Leo shifted to his other hip. "You know the rules. You only get the GameBoy if you're at the flap gate."

Rather than argue, Michelangelo shrugged. "Eh, it's okay. I think I tapped out my luck for the day anyway. Have fun getting Chibi-Kitsune strong enough to beat Erika, Leo!" He waved, and started off towards the dojo.

"Where are you going?"

Mikey grinned, the gap in his slightly crooked teeth almost widening with his smile. "Donnie said he was going to try and finish the ukemi setup when he and Sensei got home. I wanted to see him fall flat on his shell!"

"See if you can get Raph to help, those crash mats are too heavy for us to handle by ourselves." He started standing up, saving and powering off the game console to help.

Leo didn't even realize it until a second later that Mikey had bumped the back of Leo's knee with just enough force to make him sit back down. "No 'ourselves' about it, Leo. You've been studying for three hours, you gotta take a break before your brains melt out of your nostrils." Mikey giggled. He spun on his foot and turned left, towards Raphael's room in their Lair. "I'll go get him."

Leo sighed. Michelangelo had an innate talent for telling exactly when Leo needed a break and somehow convincing him to actually take one. He smiled down at the GameBoy in his hand, and powered it back on with a flick of his thumb. The familiar, cheerful arpeggiated chord and the bright 8-bit ding seemed to tickle some part in the back of the turtle's brain. It tugged a smile on his cheeks and gently set his shell into the rocking chair next to the half-ton steel flap gate. He checked the yardstick taped to the wall. The water level was fine.

Relax. Right. He could relax.

He looked over the save file. Well, they were down to 1100 yen, from almost enough to get the damn bike. But the coin case honestly looked pretty good. It actually looked really good. He cracked all six of his knuckles. "Alright, Slash. Time to train." He bravely put the party's Wartortle out in front, and ventured out into the grass on Nana Bandōro , Route 7.

After several minutes of stomping Bellsprout and Meowth–or, at least, Madatsubomi and Nyarth –Leo felt something tingling in his face. Some twitch under his eye. Something was wrong, but he couldn't quite tell what. He wanted to shove away the feeling and go back to his game, enjoy the rare peace and quiet. But his sixth sense wouldn't let him. He sniffed. No, the sanitary line hadn't overflowed again. And the carbon monoxide detector hadn't beeped in months.

Annoyed that not even his subconscious could go one hour without nagging him, he stepped out of the tall grass, saved the game, and shut off the GameBoy. He holstered it in the stitched pocket of the rocking chair. He checked the yardstick again–still at normal height–and got up to find Mikey.

"Hey, Mike?" Leo called out as he re-entered the Lair. "Mi-ike?"

The Lair was shaped like an L with two horns. Plastic room dividers marked each of the brothers' rooms on the long side of the L. The living room and kitchen formed the short end, leading to the front door. The left horn led to a tunnel that ended in a parking garage and the right horn led to the bathroom and the dojo. Originally built as a liquor cache for the mob during Prohibition, the Lair had a hidden passage concealed behind the tiny safety closet for stranded sewer workers. The concrete door to the passage had been left open all day to air out the place after Leo's cooking fiasco.

Splinter's carpentry skills were evident in the living room, which was filled with furniture that he had built or rebuilt himself. Reed mats and a red carpet adorned the floor, and six sitting pillows surrounded a short-legged table. Tall black lamps provided a warm and consistent light throughout the room, and a propane tank fitted with a metal lamp provided heat. The kitchen was made up of a propane-fueled oven and a sink from an old RV, and the fridge was likely from the Reagan era. It was covered in magnets shaped like little throwing stars, pinning up pieces of artwork or quotes by great masters like Miyamoto Musashi and Dolly Parton. The living room table held a small black iron tea kettle and a few Silver Sentry comic books. Leo removed a throwing star bookmark from one of the comics and replaced it with a coaster, reminding Mikey of the no-weapons-on-the-table rule.

"Mike? You and Raph still want help setting up those crash mats?" Leo pushed aside the sliding door into the dojo.

If the living room was quaint, warm, and comfortable, the dojo was stately, cool, and carried a sort of sacred air to it; like the feeling one got when walking into a temple or cathedral. There was a small fountain in a shrine on the wall opposite the entryway. It was actually a bird bath that they'd found and scoured clean. Inside it was an intricate sculpture of a coiling Eastern dragon, with a lithe and supple snake-like body and fierce talons reared back and raised as if to strike. Ryujin, their dojo's kami, or teacher-god.

Leo respectfully nodded to the shrine, and saw Mikey standing in the corner, next to a rack of staves, holding a piece of paper. He was biting his nails.

"Mikey, you're chewing your nails."

"Well, I'm nervous."

"What's that paper you're holding, and why would you be nervous?"

"I'm not nervous for me." Mikey held up the paper, holding it out to his brother. "I'm nervous for what Sensei is going to do to Raph when he gets home."

Leo's stomach shriveled into a cold, dry-ice snowball as the dreaded words on the note sunk in.

Wanted to go see a football game. I'll be at Giants Stadium watching the Jets thrash the 49ers. Be home whenever. I'll stick to the shadows. I promise, I won't do anything dumb.

Raph

Leo wanted to crumple the note into his hands and throw it at the little fountain, watch the ink bleed into the water and the paper disintegrate. Instead, he took a deep, slow breath through his nostrils.

Mikey grimaced, innocently swinging his foot. "So… I'm not in trouble for handing that to you, right?

"Nope."

"We're gonna tell Splinter, right?"

"Yep."

Michelangelo closed his eyes. He took a deep breath in through his nose as well. He let it out in a long, sympathetic wince. "Oooh. Raph's gonna be pissed when Sensei makes us find him and drag him home."