Chapter Eleven:
Basil

"hate"

Disclaimer: I do not own the series Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. Like, at all. It and all its respectable characters are © to Kevin Eastman, Peter Laird, and ViacomCBS and Nickelodeon. However, all writing contents and semi-plots here are © to me, unless it is stated otherwise. All shows/ books/ video games/ songs that are mentioned in this chapter are all © to their respective owners, I do not own them.

Summary: Life had been simple. Shay moved away from Los Angeles to Montana's deep northwestern woods with her kids. She had a ranch and house. It wasn't perfect, but it was better than L.A. Thing is, she hadn't planned on hosting a bunch of mutant turtles that stemmed from old comics, movies, and shows. Just how far will she and her kids go to protect them from their tight knit community?

Notes: Oohhhhhh, I didn't realize I'd let so much time slip by between updates, I am so, so sorry. Thank you to everyone who's reached out to review or watch this story!

"Men are driven by two principal impulses, either by love or by fear."
— Niccolò Machiavelli, "The Discourses"

"Soooo…your boss has done all of this to you and your co-workers? Aren't a few of these things against certain labour laws, and well…human rights? Who does he think he is?"

"Peter used to be an army drill sergeant, and he did it for most of his career. He was medically discharged, and he's pretty much been pissy over it ever since. Or so I hear, and his track record shows it. He's got a mean streak in him, and it ain't letting up any time soon."

"But the revocation of earned time off, refusal of mandated breaks, and allowance of times set aside to accommodate mealtimes, the blatant verbal abuse—"

Shay snorted and rolled her eyes, fighting the urge to smile.

"Ugh, you sound like a civilian," she groaned, rolling her eyes in a deliberate and exaggerated fashion. When she caught sight of Leonardo's bewildered—even offended—expression, she pulled away.

"It's classic drill instructor behavior—at least, from where I'm standing. Peter thinks he can break us down, like we're one of his cadets—or recruits, as we call them in the Marines. Side note: one of my drill instructors' name was Cadet. Imagine her going through boot camp. 'Recruit Cadet'. Ha." Shay cackled, grinning like the gremlin she was. "And the thing is, I went through tougher shit. Peter is more annoying and stressful than terrifying to me."

The glance Leonardo shot Shay almost gave her pause.

Almost.

"What? It's true. Peter doesn't scare me."

Leonardo said nothing, but Shay could sense there was more under the surface.

"Just…please be careful. If this man is as…" He paused, looking thoughtful as he attempted to find the right word before continuing. "If he's as unbalanced as you say he is and thinks he can continue this cycle of abuse…you might learn just how far he's willing to go and what he's capable of."

Shay closed out the PDF file, having already sent it off to her own email, with George CC'd on it for good measure.

"I know what I'm doing, Leo. Don't worry, I got it handled."

She glanced at him, and something twisted in her gut at the dubious expression that crossed his features.

"What?"

"Nothing. I didn't say anything."

"You had a look. What's with the look? Are you doubting me?"

He took his time in answering, seeming to choose his words with care. Shay put her computer in sleep mode and stood, straightening her work jacket out.

"I think you're underestimating the situation, and I don't want to see it escalate. I…don't want to see you get hurt, if things take a turn for the worst."

At first, Shay wanted to speak up with a kneejerk response she had, primed and ready in the wings. Who the hell did he think he was, thinking she couldn't take care of herself? She's been handling Peter for the better part of over two years now. He had no right to comment on the matter.

She bit back her sharp retorts, and was glad for it, because it dawned on her moments later that he was merely concerned. It was rather…touching, really.

"I…I appreciate your concern, Leo. And I get that you're worried for me, but I'm absolutely sure I can handle this. I've been around this jackass for a lot longer than you, so I think I have a bit more insider knowledge about the man than you do."

He looked as though he had more to say, but at the last moment, seemed to think better on continuing and simply nodded. Shay gave him a pat on the shoulder and hoisted her bag up. She snatched up her coffee thermos and gave Leonardo a salute with it, grinning.

"I'll see y'all later, okay? The kids are staying at my parents tonight and they'll be there for the weekend, too, so we can go nuts!"

"He really looks pleased with himself, doesn't he?"

Shay shrugged as she swept the feather duster in hand delicately over the frame and painting's canvas. She watched as the dust motes danced in the lights that shone overhead, and smiled as she could see the detailed brushstrokes more clearly now. Her eyes darted over every detail—the highlights and shadows, the base colours that rose amidst them all, and could only wish to create something even half as beautiful and grand in life, rather than in her head, like the piece she stood before.

She struggled when it came to painting. Even if she knew, on a basic level, how each painting come to be, she couldn't translate it herself in person. A part of her was, admittedly, envious—but she was also in awe at the level of skill of each artist's work that passed through their humble gallery. It was inspiring, to say the least.

Georgina's hand waved in front of Shay's face, redirecting her attention back to the other woman. She blinked a few times, taken aback and dazed.

"What? What's wrong?"

George's lips curved into a smile. "You okay? You were looking kinda weird."

"Sorry," Shay replied sheepishly, turning away from the painting. "What did you say?"

"I was saying how Peter looked rather pleased and full of himself." Her smile turned sly, eyes narrowing into mischievous slits as she leaned in closer. "But he's gonna be getting quite the surprise later today, isn't he?"

"Ah. You got my email, huh?"

"Mm-hmm. Good of you to CC the office email, too. Peter rarely checks it."

"Oh, of course not. He leaves such plebian work to us lowly workers." Shay mockingly bemoaned, throwing a hand to her forehead in a show of faux devastation while leaning backwards. Georgina snickered and reached for Shay's other arm, pulling her back upright. One look at Georgina, and Shay burst into a fit of giggles. The other woman wasn't far behind her, and they held onto each other.

Once they'd gotten their shared laughter out, they both straightened and calmed. Shay glanced back at the painting she had been sprucing up in lieu of Julian's visit.

It was oil painting of St. Mary's Lake at sunset, and the painting was named as such. The sun was partially blocked by a mountain offset from the center, while the sunset's rays provided warm lighting to the rest of the painting. A litany of trees covered the foreground, bathed in the golden light of the setting sun. The featured lake that was the painting's namesake was equally caught in dying light of the sun, as were the mountains off to the lefthand side of the canvas, and the clouds that crowded the top half of the canvas were cast in an ethereal lighting as well. Ken Salaz's piece was simply breathtaking to behold.

It almost seemed like a hopeful sign. While the sun was setting in the mountains, there was still the promise of a sunrise to look forward to later on. Shay chose to cling to this hope and sighed as she turned back to Georgina.

"When's Julian supposed to get here, again?"

"I'm actually here right now! Hello, everyone!"

Both women jolted on the spot. Georgina whirled, a hand flying to clutch at her chest while Shay accidentally dropped the feather duster. She hurriedly stooped to pick it up, face growing hot with embarrassment. Julian grinned at the two women, bright blue eyes crinkling in amusement. They popped against his pale complexion and ginger hair and trimmed beard.

He was dressed in a casual fashion of jeans, a relaxed light grey button up shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and sensible sneakers. He glanced over Georgina and Shay, brows rising to greet his overhanging bangs.

"You're a bit…overdressed, the pair of you." Julian noted, canting his head to the side. It was uncannily like Chief when he encountered something that puzzled him.

"That would be my doing, Julian. We like to keep it strictly professional here in Whitefish with my staff. Good to see you!"

Shay's good humour dissipated rather quickly as Peter brought himself into the gallery floor, Around the corner, Shay could see Thomas's head peeking forward, brows creasing in worry and nervousness. Predictably, Chelsea was nowhere to be seen. Julian and Peter greeted one another with a strong, courteous handshake. Peter took it further with a clap on Julian's shoulder.

"Good to see you, boss. How's Bozeman these days?"

The pair of men turned from Shay and Georgina, already seeming to forget them. Thomas's presence seemed almost imaginary, as he was no longer spying from the partial cover of the corner he had chosen to appear from. Georgina's hand pressed into Shay's shoulder and squeezed.

"Keep doing what you're doing for now. We got time," she simply said and followed after the men.

Shay lingered behind, glancing at the row of paintings behind her that she still needed to dust off.

Technically, it should have been Thomas doing all this work—but she wasn't going to remain idle and do nothing. Not when Julian was here, not when Peter was skulking about, looking for a reason to pounce on her. She couldn't afford to look like useless extra baggage, or like the fat from meat that needed to be trimmed and discarded of.

Not when she had quite the doozy of a bombshell to drop in Julian's lap and she couldn't afford to have Peter giving her the boot before the reveal.

Thank you, Donatello, you saved my ass, she thought, fighting to stave off the grin that threatened to split her face.

Julian toured the gallery with Peter, while Georgina and Shay tailed the pair at a distance. When Shay got a chance, she patted Thomas on the shoulder and asked him to quietly check on the office and bathroom facilities to keep him busy. She passed him the feather duster, and he gratefully scampered off just as Julian asked where Chelsea was.

"Oh, she had a family emergency. One of her kids is sick, I believe."

"She seems to use that excuse all the time, and yet, I hear her kids are still going to school and aren't ever taken to the doctor's office. Peter seems to let her go off or not come in at all, all the time." Georgina piped up. Peter whirled, his expression thunderous but he quickly stifled it when Julian glanced between him and Georgina.

"I'm sorry, but what does that mean, exactly?"

"I'm saying, Peter covers for Chelsea at every little inconvenience she experiences that conflict with her hours here."

"It's more complicated than that—" Peter started; his voice turning rough as he glared at Georgina. She tilted her head in Peter's direction, eyes narrowing.

"Really? Because Chelsea has a husband who's perfectly capable of picking up the slack. Shay, on the other hand—"

"—has her parents to help out, which is what they should be doing. It's not that complicated, Georgina, really—"

"Oh, I know you did not just interrupt me while I was speaking, Peter!" She snapped back and gave Shay a hearty pat on the back. He blinked at her, looking taken aback and offended all at once. Julian raised a brow and leveled it at Peter. Peter didn't seem to notice, his jaw clenching and face growing red as he glowered at both Georgina and Shay.

"Shay's parents both work, while Chelsea's husband is currently between jobs and both of their parents are right here, in Whitefish, and they both can just as easily take care of the kids. And yet, her husband can't be bothered to take care of his own kids when they need caring for? Shay has been busting her ass, doing the work both she and Chelsea should be doing, not to mention she's been training Thomas to boot!"

Julian's expression darkened as he crossed his arms over his chest, staring hard at Peter. The shorter man seemed to continue to not notice—or perhaps he was trying to avoid looking at his boss.

"And that's not even scratching the surface of how Peter is constantly trying to sabotage Shay while also trying to get into Chelsea's pants—"

"THAT IS ENOUGH, GEORGINA! YOU'RE OUT OF LINE!"

Peter started toward Georgina but was stopped by Julian's hand smacking him in the chest. Julian's fingers curled into his palm, except for his index finger, which he stabbed in Peter's chest.

"Back up right now, Peter. I mean it."

The shorter man glowered at Georgina, but she only smiled. Briefly, he flicked his eyes toward Shay, and that only seemed to incense him further.

"Oh, honey, I ain't even gotten started yet! You falsify pay hours to jack up Chelsea's paycheck, you terrorize poor Thomas like he's some kind of recruit in the army, you play fuck-fuck games with Shay to try and justify firing her, and I am sick and tired of it! You've been nothing but a terror in this store. We are not the army, this is not some warzone where we're dodging bullets, this is a fucking art gallery in a tourist town! WE SELL ART HERE!"

Julian held up a hand and the entire gallery fell silent. Thankfully there were no customers in yet, but the silence was damning and oppressive. Shay was quietly pulling out her phone and opened the PDF file from her phone. Julian glanced Peter's way and Peter finally seemed to notice. He blanched at the hard stare he was pinned with.

"This is all hearsay, Julian. Blatant and crude lies. It's—it's fake news—it's all false. What proof do they even have? A bunch of scribbles in a notebook?"

He shot a nasty look Shay's way, a smug glint in his eyes. He was practically daring Shay to pipe up.

Pipe up, she did. She smiled back at Peter, and his expression faltered.

"How about all the screenshots we've been taking for the last year or two? Not just me, but George and Thomas too." Shay replied breezily, and presented her phone to Julian. He took it in hand and his brows furrowed as he scanned through things, lips downturned into a frown. Peter shot the pair of women a withering look. Shay almost thought he just might try to take a swing at either one of them.

"Julian, this is all just a big misunderstanding, I can explain—"

"These are timestamped, Julian. And I can clearly see you signed in for these hours that you've doctored for everyone, even Thomas."

"—these things can be faked, it's clearly—"

"—clearly what, Peter? Because I've been receiving reports like this from Georgina for months now."

Shay blinked and glanced at the taller woman beside her in shock. George winked back at her, lips pulling into a self-satisfied grin. Peter looked equally, if not more, stunned at the confession.

"You've already told him?"

"Of course, I did! Peter's trying to run this place like some kind of backwater sweatshop. Again, I have to reiterate that we're an art gallery, you goddamn numbskull! We're supposed to celebrate beautiful art here, not drive everyone's noses into the ground and make them feel like shit all the time!"

"You sneaky minx," Shay said, in awe at Georgina's deviousness. Shay couldn't fight the incredulous smile that split her face. She knew that George was normally cordial with Peter, just to keep the peace. She didn't rock the boat, if she could help it.

Georgina's grin grew wider, a gleeful spark in her eyes. "Damn straight. I've been playing nice to keep this particular individual—" she motioned to Peter with a wag of the hand, "—from catching on that he is the little frog in a big pot of slowly boiling hot water."

Shay heard a stifled laugh from her left and glanced over to see Thomas peeking out from behind one of the gallery walls and had a hand over his mouth. When he noticed Shay was staring at him, he popped back around with a startled gasp. It took nearly all her self-control to keep from bursting out laughing or grinning like a loon. She turned her attention back to the scene that was Peter slowly unraveling. His composure was in shambles, openly scowling at both her and Georgina, face growing even redder.

She was almost certain that if Julian wasn't here in person, he just might attack them. The realization made a twinge of caution plume up inside her and she could feel her heart climbing higher up in her throat. She forced down the fit of jitters that suddenly came over her and crossed her arms over her chest.

"I think you need to leave, Peter."

"YOU don't get to tell me what to do, you sniveling, weak little shitbird—!" Peter snarled, stabbing a finger in Shay's direction. Julian once more intervened, pressing his hand more firmly in Peter's chest. Peter, still red-faced and raging, stumbled back a step, briefly taken aback as Julian encroached on his personal space to give the two women more breathing room.

"Actually, Peter, she absolutely can do that. As of right now, you're fired. Georgina's taking your position, and Shay will be taking up her old position."

The flummoxed expression that struck Peter in that moment was instantly worth all the crap he'd slung at Shay for the past two years. His complexion remained ruddy and spotted; the sheen of stress sweat on his bald head looking especially shiny beneath the gallery lights as he stared slack-jawed at Julian.

"Y-you can't be serious. Julian—I-I can fix this, just give me one more chance—"

"Enough, Peter. Enough with the lies, the sneaky backstabbing, the terrorizing of everyone, the scheming. I've had to stomach it for months hearing it from Georgina, and I can't imagine how uncomfortable you've possibly made Chelsea to make her want to stay away so much from here—I'm surprised she hasn't just outright quit already. In fact, Thomas and Shay have had to deal with you for months and years, respectively. You're done. You no longer work here. And don't ask for a letter of recommendation. You won't get it, not from me."

Peter's eyes bulged, jaw hinging open and closed in shock, words failing him. His gaze ping-ponged back and forth between Julian, Shay, and Georgina several times before their boss motioned to the door.

"Get out."

Slowly, the rictus in Peter's limbs ebbed away and he shakily took a step, then another. Shay and Georgina parted to allow the man to pass. He kept his gaze straight ahead, making a stiff departure. The moment he stepped through the door, it was as if a heaviness in the air had finally been lifted away, and Shay could breathe freely.

The seconds ticked away before George squealed and flung herself at Shay, pulling the smaller woman into a tight embrace. "We did it! WE FUCKING DID IT!"

Shay squeezed her back just as hard, resisting the urge to cry from relief. They stayed that way for a good minute before Julian politely cleared his throat. Reluctantly, the two peeled apart and turned to face their boss.

"Sorry to interrupt, but we're a little past opening time, and there's still a few things we need to discuss. Thomas, come over here, please—this includes you, too. Oh! And can one of you call Chelsea? I don't care if her kid really is sick or not, she can bring them in. We need to discuss her future here, if she even has one depending on how she responds. Lastly, we have to discuss our upcoming event with Haru Saka. We should be expecting the shipment of his paintings in the next week or so, and he'll be arriving a day or so after that. We'll have a dress rehearsal and…Georgina? Has the website been updated? And what about the flyers around town? No? Peter has done nothing?! Okay, now even more glad that I got rid of him, he was running this place into the ground! 'Professional' my ass…"

Shay was already scrolling through her phone for Chelsea's contact information and gave a thumbs-up to George when she brought it to her ear. "I got it. I'll get her to come in."

Georgina nodded and picked up the pace to follow Julian. Thomas joined her, a spring in his step that had been missing since his first day. The creases of stress that had lined his frame, his face, were completely gone and had been replaced with cautious optimism. Shay took that as a hopeful sign.

For once, Shay exited her place of work, feeling fully accomplished instead of drained of energy and underwhelmed like she had for the past few years. Some people have asked why she didn't just look for a new job somewhere else, perhaps even at the air force station that was based out of Kalispell. Her military background could give her an edge, that foot in the door. Surely, something else would be better.

And it was true, Shay had considered changing out her old job for a new one—a less stressful one. But she was running on a combination of stubbornness to outlast the bastard who'd made her work life hell and wanting to share art in the world. In some small way, she didn't want her bachelor's degree to be as useless as she often felt it was. Animation wasn't exactly the leading highlight of Montana's top careers.

She also knew that if she attempted to take a day off that wasn't in connection with her kids for an interview, Peter would have found a way to sabotage it, or worse, fire her. If that happened, she wouldn't have been able to lean on unemployment benefits. Even if the decision was reversed or corrected, the damage would have been done, and cost her family dearly.

The foot traffic was still heavy, but a number of shops were beginning to shutter their doors closed, their lights out, and open signs flipping over to closed. The restaurants and bars, on the other hand, were taking in the weary and hungry denizens and tourists alike. With the kids staying at her parents' place for the weekend, she didn't feel as rushed to head home. She could stop by the grocery store to grab something quick and easy to make, along with a few items extra…

George would have Thomas and Chelsea coming in on Saturday and Sunday, freeing up some much-needed breathing room for Shay.

The employee parking lot behind her work was slowly emptying. A woman from the shop next door was exiting her establishment and paused, giving Shay a friendly wave.

"Hey, there, neighbor! Have a great weekend!"

Shay gestured back, grinning as she fished her truck keys out at the same time, clicking the unlock button.

"You too," she replied. Shay popped the driver's side door open and hauled herself up into the cab, tossing her messenger bag into the passenger seat. Her water bottle and coffee thermos clinked against one another, and she could hear the faint sloshing of liquids inside. She paused to snatch the former out and gulped down nearly half of what was left. She paused when she felt her phone buzzing and set the water bottle down. Shay frowned as she managed to pry her phone out of her back pocket and saw the caller ID. She clicked the answer button.

"Donnie? What's up? I'm gonna stop by the store—"

"Start your truck and get out of there! Now!"

"What?"

"Just do it!"

The hairs on the back of her neck stood upright just at his hurried tone. She switched the phone to her other ear, keys to the other and stuck it in the ignition. The engine roared to life, and she threw the shifter into reverse. Bluetooth picked up on her phone and she threw it in the seat.

She opened her mouth to speak, but the screech of tires and a revving engine cut her off seconds before something slammed right into her driver's side. The last thing she remembered was shattered glass flying everywhere before it all went black.