#yes donnie still has fake blood

[ye-it-is-skeet]

Risetober Day 31: Treat 🎃🍬

Now they can all go to the boardwalk and enjoy the festive treats ✨

Risetober was fun✨ Glad I survived for the most part, heh.. but now I can rest✨

Happy Halloween 🎃✨

Thanks @sariphantom for providing the prompts so I could participate in this art challenge this month✨

[sleeepy-sim]

Is this where your do requests? 😭 I’m not too sure- but I was hoping you could do a Donnie Darko fic? Make it as nasty as you can! But I’m thinking about completely going away from the main plot of the movie and making Donnie a serial killer? Like obsessed with the reader too :)

I love this one!! AHHHHH!! Okay

CW: Creepy Donnie, stalker, kinda innocent reader? could be seen as both innocent and non, he's obsessed, mention of murder, somnophilia, home boy goes down on you, let me know if there is anything else.

Might make into a part two. Also something is going on with my requests, let me fix it guys

Donnie Darko has known you since you two were kids. With growing up together, being neighbors, and somehow always being in the same classes - it was bound for you two to be best friends. 

Though, Donnie seems to know more about you then you know about him. For, you don’t know he sneaks in your room, you don’t know he enjoys watching you, you don’t know he kills little immature boys who think they have a chance.

You think Donnie is your sweet, sarcastic, funny best friend. Which, he is - duh. But as people say, ‘it's not always what meets the eye.’ For he enjoys nothing - unless you touched, breathed around it or liked it.

Donnie Darko’s world revolves around you. He eats, he thinks of you. He watches TV, he thinks of you. He showers, he definitely thinks of you. What does he think of you? Oh, he wrote about it, about how tight your sweet cunt would be. About how sweet you would taste. He’s already gotten a little taste from your sweet little painties he took - that's not enough. 

He also paints you. He’s seen you, don’t be fooled. He’s seen you strip naked, he’s seen you touch yourself. When his therapist asked if he “still thinks about girls a lot?” He couldn’t help but put his hands in his pants, just thinking about you.

He could tell when his obsession with you went deeper than it has ever been. He could feel you in his bones, his blood stream. He would do anything for you. He would has killed for you. If you ask for it, done. If not, just sit back, Donnie will take care of his girl. 

Tonight was an amazing night for Donnie. Tonight, he was killing a little boy who had been taking your attention away from him. All’s fair in the game of love, yes? 

He waited for this Devin, to come out of his house, waiting right outside his door, behind something of course he’s not dumb. Donnie adjusted his mask, licking his lips as he heard this scumbags footsteps. 

As Devin came outside, turning around to lock his door. Donnie pounced, wrapping his arm around his neck, shoving the cloth full of drugs into the guy's face.

. . . 

He came over, knocking on your window, a fake sad expression on his face. He told you ‘Frank wouldn’t leave him alone.’ Of course you being you, felt bad and let him, saying he could stay the night. 

Donnie sighs, a big grin on his face. He had just got done disposing of that littler vermin, but that wasn’t the best part of his night, no. The best part was here he was, laying in your bed, while you wear your night clothes.

He swallowed thickly as you laid your head down on his chest, your arm wrapped around his side. He could smell your hair, your perfume. He smiled down at you, shifting his hips as he tried to relieve the pressure of his aching cock. 

Donnie sighs, a big grin on his face. He had just got done disposing of that littler vermin, but that wasn’t the best part of his night, no. The best part was here he was, laying in your bed, while you wear your night clothes.

He layed in your bed for a while, just watching you as you did your own little things, such as get ready for bed, clean up your area and give him that sweet little smile. After a little bit of watching you he had to get under your covers to cover up his raging boner.

He could see your nipples poking through your top - he could see the roundness of your ass, the jiggle it made everytime you moved - free from your underwear. He wanted to groan as he could almost see the ripples your ass would make as he would pound you from behind.

Finally, after doing your little ‘chores’ you climbed into bed, right next to him. He soaked in your warmness, your smell, he could almost taste you on his tongue - once more. See, with the things of being best friends for so long, you trusted him no matter what.

He says this pill will help you not have any nightmares, already took it. He said it's okay for best friends to kiss on the lips, your swollen pouty lips were enough for him to jack off later. Going back to the pill, you had confined in him about your nightmares. He felt so bad for his little bunny, he just had to help you.

That night after you took it and he went home - which meant he hid outside your window. He crept back in the house, his nerves on fire. His dick harder than a rock as he pulled your covers off you, as if peeling a wrapper of his little present. He groaned before taking a deep breath and opening your legs, your nightgown sliding down your legs and pooling at your hips, your pussy right there for him to take, to ravish. He leaned forward, his tongue slowly creeping out to lick your pussy. It was his first time, he wanted to go slow - but with it being you he wanted you in him, around him and wrapped around him.

He should feel bad, preying on his innocent friend, who thought of nothing of his endeavors. That all went out the window as soon as he saw you.

[ninnosaurus]

Just something small 100% inspired by @redsrooftopprincess portable kinetic heaters hc <3

Warnings for: near death experience, talk about needles. I think that's it? If not, let me know. Written on my phone lmao. No beta, I like living on the edge.

Raphael is scared of needles.

Horribly, extremely scared of needles. Has been for as long as he can remember. Which is hilarious when you think about it. Big bad Raph who has a big bad tattoo on his bicep. Big bad Raph who could probably flip a car if he really put his mind to it.

Big bad Raph who jumped out a plane, and who fought an alien on a ever building weapon of destruction. Is scared. Of needles.

Mikey likes to tease him for it, only for Raphael to get back at him by dropping a fake spider down his shell. Knowing the runt of the four never liked spiders, even less having them on him.

Truth be told, it never was the needle itself he was scared of. It's what happened when he had to get up close and personal with one. A memory he often think of when he fiddles with the handheld device that's connected to the implant under his shell.

"Dad! Daaaaad, daad please help!"

Splinter rushed towards the small voice calling him. His boys were all independent, strong already. But when they called for him like that, it was bad.

"What's going on, my son?"

The rat sat down next to the pile of turtles. The youngest had apparently woken up from their nap for some reason.

"Raph isn't waking up, dad... And he's really, really cold." Mikey shoved his brother again only for him to roll over and flop onto Donnie instead.

Their dad took the small hand of Raphael in his. Inside, he was in a panic. What was going on? Is he just deeply asleep? Is he sick? Did he di- no, he can't think like that. He had to keep calm and to not freak his sons out.

"Raphael, Raphael, my boy, it's time to wake up."

He gingerly lifted the child up and put him on his lap. He was cold. Floppy. But he was breathing, just extremely weakly. He had a pulse, yes. But that too was hard to find, and barely there.

Leonardo came to stand next to him.

"He said- he said that he should sleep on the top because- because he's the strongest. So if anything happened he could protect us." He was fighting so hard to be strong, to not show he was close to tears, thinking his brother had died in his sleep.

Splinter hummed in reply.

"Come, boys. We'll get him to the wash room."

"Why?" Mikey asked as he took hold of Splinter's tail as they walked.

"I am going to splash some water on him. To try and wake him up."

Hours passed. Raphael still not waking up. Splinter didn't know what to do. Where could he take the child? Nowhere. His other three sons stayed close to the sleeping child.

The rat was deep in meditation when a small hand tapped his own. Cracking an eye open he was face to face with the big eyes of Donatello, who when he saw his dad had seen him, decided to plop his body in his father's lap.

"Yes, Donatello?"

"I think we need to warm him up."

"How come?"

"Well, me, Leo and Mikey are awake... And I think it's because we shared more body heat." His hands started moving as he spoke. "Raph just had our shells to lay on, and that got him too cold because our shells aren't that warm but our skin is because there's more blood flow there compared to our shells-"

Splinter huffed a laugh as he listened to his son prattle on without taking a break to breathe.

"What do you think, dad?"

The turtle in his lap looked up at him.

"I think it sounds like an excellent idea."

Leonardo and Mikey were both in the middle of running around in the wash room, filling cups with water to throw at each other. One of them laughing as the other slipped on a puddle.

Donnie, however, was in full focus mode. Closely watching Raphael who was currently resting on their father's chest in the tub. Splinter had to admit that he did notice the color slowly returning to the child. He discreetly checked the pulse and yes, even that was starting to return to a stronger flow.

"Is it working, dad?"

He didnt miss the worry in Donnie's voice. How it wavered. Like he would start crying at any moment if Raphael didn't start moving soon. He reached out a hand to cup his sons face.

"He is going to be fine."

It was late when he finally woke up. Groggy, out of it, confused. Shaking like a leaf. But finding himself cuddled into something soft. He rubbed his eyes and looked up, relieved to see he was hugged close to his dad.

Leo stirred next to him, seemingly annoyed at getting bumped by something.

"Stop movin'..."

"Sorry..."

His brother instantly sat up. "Raph?! You're awake?"

Confusion clear on his face, Raph just looked at Leo.

"Uh... Yeah?"

"What's with all the noi- Raphie!"

Mikey flung himself at his brother, prompting an "oof" out of their dad.

Years had passed since then. Splinter had told him he'd been sleeping for about three days before he fully woke up.

Raphael idly scratch the place where Donatello had made a small cut after - trying his best - to numb the area. With. That. Fuckin'. Needle. Now, it barely showed a scar. How he had managed to build something like that at such an age, no one actually knew.

After nearly dying during a nap that winter many years ago, Donnie had made it his mission to learn about their biology. Quickly realizing they were extremely sensitive to cold. Research that led to him trying to figure out how to combat it. Something that resulted in portable heaters.

Only problem was: They had to be under their skin.

Raphael wasn't scared of needles before nearly dying. Found them kind of cool and had to be scolded by his dad many, many times because he tried picking the ones he found up. But something in him happened after that. Maybe it was that the numbing didn't work for him, and that Donnie had to cut into the sensitive area connecting his shell to his skin?

He's not sure. All he does know is that he's thankful his brother did it. And that he can't stand needles.

Man, he really hates needles.

[pianocat939]

Celina! I just had the weirdest idea!

Coralline au!

M/c lives in a world identical-if not exact- to ours…

But!

There is a small door in m/c’s room that takes them to the rottmnt dimension.

The turtles are the ‘beldams’ of the story, the only difference being their world isn’t a fake trap used to kidnap children and devour their souls. Their world is literally rottmnt only they are yanderes with button eyes. Also every other character that isn’t one of the turtles is strangely not there-

M/c’s home dimension- to help follow some of the plot from Coraline- kinda sucks. Neglectful parents who are so strung up in their work, they don’t notice m/c. M/c would live in a two-story small house (mainly because I don’t know how I would fit the other characters into this, so they don’t exist here).

M/c loves rottmnt, and so finding a doorway that leads them to a parallel universe with the rise characters only they have sewn on button eyes would surely make m/c really happy at first, given her current circumstances. Yeah sure, they act a little different and kinder compared to the show, but they seem really nice! What’s the worst that could come from staying a little longer?

I can imagine the turtles seeing m/c as their own kin- but not in the delusional “ I am related to you by blood way. More in a “you are our adopted sibling/child” kind of way. They believe they should be the ones to take care of m/c because, clearly, their parents aren’t doing that good of a job at it.

I also wanted a huge motivator for the turtles going platonic yandere on m/c, so I decided to add a bit of angst to this au. Everyone but the turtles is dead, minus background characters.Either by the Shredder or Krang, they are all dead. Or they never existed in this world! Either way, m/c still has no answer as the turtles never talk about them.

Also, Donnie has most likely already stalked m/c before their arrival in their world, which allows the other turtles to already have crucial knowledge on m/c that will aid them in their goals. Poor m/c still hasn’t noticed the cameras-

Once m/c realizes what is going on, it would be far too late to stop it. M/c’s only contacts in their world is their parents, and they won’t believe m/c! Though, it may not be too hard to convince them, seeing as they are already kidnapped and locked away-

The only thing m/c can even do to escape is run and hope to find a new caretaker, because they ain’t getting their parents back from the turtles. I guess the other option is to re-enter the other-world, which would most likely result in m/c being tied down whilst Mikey stitches buttons on their eyes don’t worry, Donnie has already gave them something to make them go numb. They don’t feel a thing physically!

Now, let’s say m/c somehow freed her parents and escaped. Now, m/c would have to burn down the entire house and find a new place to live, because they WILL find a way to get through the door if it is intact. Though, this may not even save m/c, because Donnie could easily make another one in their new home…

(Is this good? I hope it is. I love how we both just torture m/c with fictional mutant turtles with superpowers-)

Yes, it's very detailed! It's great.

Tw: restraints, implied forced surgery(?),

"Look at you! So pretty with your button eyes!" Mikey holds your face in his hands. "Now you're officially a member of the family!" His grin is wide, and a sense of glee is evident on his face.

"Yeah, you have a nice pair of buttons, bud." Raph also smiles at you, kneeling down to be closer to your eye level. His onyx, dead button "eyes" stare back at you. "I'm so happy to have you as our new member."

Leo strokes your head, "No more having to go back to the place...That wretched place where your so-called parents harboured you. But it's alright, no more having to be neglected by them! You'll just be coddled with all the brotherly and parental love you deserve!" His expression darkens when he mentions your parents, malice seeping through his words.

"And as a celebration and in memory of this wonderful event-" Donnie turns his back to you, his metal spider arm holding his phone, "Say 'Buttoning!'" Everybody poses as the camera clicks, cheering the word 'Buttoning!' alongside Donatello.

But you...You weren't smiling in the picture, you had a look of horror. Restrained in Mikey's chains, unable to speak in fear of what they would do.

[icefirestorm]

Warp and Weft

                Leo flinched as his brother pulled the needle not so gently from the crook of his striped arm. “So, what’s this for again?”

                Donatello froze. “Do you ever listen when I’m explaining things, or do you just have a voice going ‘wah wah wah’ in the background while you contemplate whatever comic book has your full attention at the moment?”

                The brother in blue thought for a moment. “Yes.” His chesire grin slowly growing across his face. Donnie’s teeth creaked under pressure. “What?! That was a multiple choice question not a yes/no question!” Choosing to ignore his sibling’s infuriating smile, the young genius continued, “Never mind. I’m doing a genetic analysis on us all to see how our human and turtle DNA combines.”

                “And try out your new toy?”

                “Sigh. It is NOT a toy. It is a MARVEL of engineering…”

                And, Leonardo’s attention wandered again. Fiddling with the little cotton ball he was using to stop the bleeding with one hand, his other started picking at the fake plastic padding of the chair’s armrest. Before too long his toes were also engaged, examining the texture of the metal footrests. The transition from smooth to rough anti-slip was hypnotic.

                Then there were fingers snapping in his face. Leo swung his gaze up to meet his angry brother’s eyes. “For real?”  Red stripes screwing up, Leonardo winced. “Sorry.”

                “Put upon sigh. Basically, when you were injured by the Krang,” Leo winced again, “the damage to your liver was severe enough that I was considering a liver transplant. You only need part of one and it can grow into a full liver again.” Donnie flicked a vial of the slider’s blood a few times before placing it in the machine. “Given our unique origins, the only beings who could possibly be compatible are the four of us.” He turned and leaned back against the counter as he crossed his arms. “Fortunately, it wasn’t necessary; however, I noticed some factors during testing that didn’t make sense to me at the time. So, I whipped this baby up to do a more thorough analysis.” Sighing without a verbal cue this time, the softshell waved a hand at his “patient”, “Now I have work to do, so please, by all means, be somewhere else.”

                Leon knew better than to push his luck. “Okie dokey Dontron.” Pushing himself up off the chair, Leonardo headed out of his brother’s lab. Once back in the main room, a twinge in his side reminded him that he still wasn’t a hundred percent yet. He didn’t have anything pressing to do at the moment, and with no one around to see his old man moment, the slider decided a nap might be in order.

                Peeling his wraps off, he absently pulled the door to his subway car shut behind him and slid between the sheets of his bed. As his shell settled into its customary divot, a relieved sigh gusted out of his lungs. He was happy to help Donnie with his experiments anytime, really, he was. More often than not, whatever his amazing twin was working on was important, or would end up being a huge benefit to the family; and Leo felt a debt to his brother for all the care and sleepless nights he got after the invasion.

                Flashes of the infirmary ceiling and Donatello’s tired face played behind striped eyelids. Leon’s injuries had been extensive, leaving him not much more than a bag of meat packed with broken bones and a crunchy exterior. As uncomfortable as Donnie was with the “soft sciences”, he’d really stepped up to help his ailing brother, and Leo knew, he owed Don his life. He owed all his brothers really, so those debts along with lessons hard learned during the invasion motivated him to do all he could since to put his family and their needs ahead of his own.

                Shifting to his side a little, he ran a finger over the scars running along his opposite arm. As soon as he’d been let out of bed rest, his days had been filled with repairs to their home, getting Casey settled in and trying to help his family along with their own healing. The benefits hadn’t been one sided though. Spending time with them, working together, it’d been more enjoyable than he’d expected. Leo’d always loved his family, but his inclination towards selfishness had often led him to spend time on his own or try to manoeuvre family activities into things that he preferred or was better at. Drawing with Mikey, training with Raph, even meditating with his Dad, had come be some of his new favourite things. Helping Donnie in the lab was fun in its own way, and he’d started to be able to follow along with the purple turtle’s technical spiels a bit.

                Anything medical though, especially in the lab, stirred up feelings. Like echoes in the tunnels, phantom pain and fear ratcheted through him. So far, the blue clad turtle had managed to power through, but it left him tired and shaken. He didn’t think that his family had noticed, at least he hoped, since they had enough of their own issues to work through. Even though it was just a blood draw, this latest assistance in the lab had brought up memories of needles, and pain, and weakness and…. With a shuddering breath, he throttled it back down again, trying to settle into what he hoped would be a refreshing afternoon nap.

                The dark eyed slider slowly rose back to wakefulness from a gentle hand rocking his shoulder. “Leo?” a soft voice asked, “Wake up little brother.” Leonardo’s snout was filled with the scent of Raphael as he sucked in a deep breath. “Mmm.” He mumbled and carefully rolled over in the bedding. “Raph? Sup?” The snapper snorted. “Dinner’s ready. April treated us to Chinese tonight.”

                Leon perked up a bit. “Chicken lo mein?”

                “With a couple egg rolls.”

                He smiled. “Sweet. I’ll be right there.”

                A snaggle-toothed grin and a pat on the shoulder later, Leo was alone in his room again. Without an audience he was free to stretch out the ever-present stitch in his side, then slowly get up and work out his limbs so he could walk to the kitchen without a hitch in his step.

                Delicious smells of soy, veggies and grease grabbed his snout halfway up the stationary escalator, bringing a smile to his face. Ah April, you’re too good to us. Signature saunter now in place, Leon swung into the kitchen/former worker breakroom with a jaunty “Good evening fam!”

                A chorus of greetings from his clan accompanied a smattering of hugs on the way to the feast laid out on their counter. Once he had a full plate in hand, he gave April a little one-armed hug and a “Thanks for the eats,” then plunked himself at the table to gorge himself on semi-cheap takeout.

                Leo shifted a bit, trying to get comfortable on the old wooden chair Mikey’d painted pastel blue just for him. It was all so normal, everyone enjoying their supper, that it took Leonardo a second to spot what was off. His humans were good, rat Dad seemed fine, one, two, ah there it was. Twin brother was off. Now, it was normal for Donnie to sit quietly sometimes, off in his own little world; but this was different. Even with his normal order of egg drop soup and a side of dried wontons, Donatello wasn’t eating; just dropping wontons into his soup and watching them soak up broth.

                Leo mimed an elbow nudge near a purple spotted arm. “If you leave those too long they’ll get all soggy and you won’t like them anymore.”

A huff. “I know ‘Nardo.”

“Ok, ok. Don’t whine to me when you can’t get your crunch on.”

“I won’t.”

Usually, with a new experiment on the go, Don would be chattering away about it until he started repeating himself, then someone would “tactfully” try to steer the conversation in another direction. Tonight though, he was flat. Flatter than he was normally even, and it was starting to worry his immediate younger brother.

“ ‘Sup ‘Tello? You ok?”

“Yes, Nardo. I’m fine.” He answered, this time with a hint of an annoyed growl.

Leon glanced up and met April’s concerned gaze on his brother’s other side.

“Alrighty. Sorry for bugging you. Just tryin’ to look out for my twin y’know?”

His good intentions promptly exploded in his face. “For the last time Leonardo! We are NOT twins! We’re not even the same species! So drop it!” Donnie yelled shoving back from the table and stomping out of the room.

Silenced reigned until April decided to overthrow it. “Ok, even for Donnie that was volatile.” When Leo tried to get up to follow, she put a hand on his arm. “No, you’re the one that set him off, let me. I’ll give him twenty minutes then go in there and see if I can’t ferret it out of him.”

The slider was conflicted. He really wanted to go after his brother, but … she was right. Donnie’d be more likely to respond to her after that and letting him cool off a bit would probably help. “Yeah, yeah. You’re right.” He gingerly settled back into his seat and picked his chopsticks up again. Tapping the utensils on his dish, he added, “He started some gene analysis thing earlier today. Maybe it has something to do with that?”

April nodded in acknowledgement around a mouthful of pork. “Kay.”

The rest of the family began to settle back to their meals, trusting April would sort it out in time. Raph paused with a thoughtful look. “If it is the gene thing, I wonder what he found that’d make him like that?”

                April cautiously edged her way into her bestie’s lab bearing a plate with whole wheat crackers, peanut butter and apple slices. A mild healthy snack for her friend after he’d skipped dinner. He was obviously upset about something, and she didn’t want to deal with a hangry Donnie on top of it.

                Their mad genius was fixated on at least three different displays, rapidly shifting between them. As best the young woman could tell, he was comparing their information, and he didn’t seem happy about the results. “Donnie?”

                “Mmm?”

                Well, at least he was answering. “I brought you a snack.”

                “You’re a snack.”

                She stopped for a moment. Ok, auto-snark mode it is. “Well, yes, yes I am, but I meant the apples and crackers kind.” He just waved a hand dismissively and kept scrolling with the other. Oh no you don’t.

                April dumped the plate next to him on the desk. “Nope. What’s up with you? You’re being all mopey and weird, like someone just killed your robo dog. Again.”

                The twitchy ninja rolled his eyes. “I’m fine. Just busy. Busy, busy, busy. THANK you, April, very much for the snack. Now if you’ll just….” He trailed off, clearly hoping she’d take the blatant hint. She didn’t.

                Chocolate complexion starting to redden with anger, she grabbed the opposite side of his chair, and spun him around only to slam him to a stop with the other hand, trapping him and getting right into his face. “Ah … no. What’s going on Donnie? Leo said you were working on some gene analysis thing. Did you find something? Is something wrong with you guys?”

                He gritted his teeth, making a rare attempt to reign in his anger. “Of course I found something. We’re genetically engineered super soldiers. There are many fascinating things to find. For example, did you know that we have an accelerated metabolism? That’s why the painkillers didn’t do ‘Nardo much good. I wonder if I could….”

                She cut him off. “Donnie. Is. Something. Wrong. With. You?”

                Her concern finally trickled through. “Oh. OH! No, nothing’s wrong with us. We’re all fine. Honest.” Don’s dark eyes wide at understanding her distress.

                April took a moment to bask in her feeling of relief and stood up, hands on hips. “Ok. Good. If y’all are fine, what’s got you so wound up?”

                And he started to fall back into himself again. “It’s nothing to worry about, I promise. Just some little cawinkity dinks about how Draxum made us. No biggie.”

                “Doooonnnnniiieee?” She drew out his name in a low warning tone. April wouldn’t tolerate his evasion any longer.

                After giving her a dark side eye and weighing the probability of getting her to drop things, he finally relented. With a resigned roll of his head Donatello finally began to explain. “While studying our DNA, I expected our turtle genetics to be different, obviously. But given that we all had the same human donor, Dad, I was very surprised to see that two of us had a different but somehow related human DNA profile.”

                April blinked a few times. “So, two of you were made with Splinter’s DNA, and the others with DNA from some relative of his?”

                “It would seem that way, but I can’t see how.” The softshell crossed his arms. “Dad’s only living relative was his grandfather back in Japan. So I ….. started to dig into Draxum’s records.” They both hesitated at the mention of the deceased scientist.

                After the invasion, the wider effects of the battle in New York’s skies gradually became apparent. Between the failed military defence, krang creatures running amok and a giant SPACESHIP exploding above in the sky; massive damage had been done to the city, causing widespread casualties. One of those was later discovered to be Draxum, crushed when debris from the krang vessel landed on April’s old high school. Mikey of course had been devastated. Leo had suddenly felt a lot less guilty about all the collateral damage.

                The boys had cleaned out his apartment, to make sure nothing compromising was ever discovered, and found reference to material and record caches the man had squirreled away around New York and its vast underground. So far Donny had gone after only a couple of them, finding difficulty in connecting the yokai information storage mediums to his computer systems.

                Donnie shook himself out of his reverie, “So I’m still having trouble getting Draxum’s storage units to cooperate, but I was able to find a couple record fragments referring to how he made us. Two of us were, as we already knew, made by fusing Dad’s DNA with a turtle.” He squirmed a bit. “The other two also had the DNA of another human; a female donor, from what I can tell. I haven’t been able to get the records to cough up more than that as of yet.”

                “So, two of you have a mother?” April asked, hand on chin.

                He rolled his eyes. “Essentially yes.”

                “Wow.” She took a moment. “That’s huge. Which two?”

                Don settled further back into his chair, working his square jaw a bit. “Nardo and I.”

______________________________________________________________________________

                Donatello squirmed as Leonardo sat with hands folded under his beak, eyes flicking back and forth with his racing thoughts. April stood nearby, arms crossed, waiting for him to finish processing the new information. Donnie really wished she hadn’t made him spill. “He has a right to know Don.” He was still fighting with how much this had stirred up his own feelings, and Leon was much more emotionally driven.

                “So, Donnie and I were made with the DNA of two humans?” the striped turtle finally said from behind his hands, eyes now closed.

                Their closest friend gave the softshell a little kick. “Uh yes,” he stuttered to life, “we had two DNA donors. Dad and a woman. Who she was and how Draxum, obtained her DNA, I don’t know. His tech refuses to talk to mine except for the odd fragment of data I can glean from all the gibberish.”

                Leo dropped one hand while massaging his forehead with the other. Has he always had wrinkles there? “Draxum had access to the internet, right?”

                The non sequitur stopped Donatello’s thoughts in their tracks. “I’m sorry?”                

                “Internet access,” his brother continued, “I know he didn’t think much of human knowledge, but even he needed to look up things about the human world sometimes. Like where stuff was or materials available, etc.” He looked up. “We know Draxum didn’t have any human tech so, he must have used some sort of adaptor or interface, right?”

                Donatello was absolutely poleaxed. Weeks of work. “I hate you.”

                His brother smirked, though the look in his eyes hinted at a budding migraine. “Where’s Barry’s crap?”

                The elder led his brother in blue and best friend over to a pile of boxes, stomping all the way. They spent the next hour or so sifting through the collection of yokai artifacts, tech and nick knacks that their maker had managed to carry through his long life, despite its many upheavals. Don squinted at another item then added it to the “maybe” pile. Turning the next over in his hand he was startled to see a USB port, then an ethernet port and a …. Is that for a telephone jack? “Got it!” he yelled from behind the box pyramid, prize held high in his hand.

                Scrambling around the mess they’d created, trampling ….. stepping around his brother in the process, Don flung himself back into his chair, already hooking the adaptor up. Once connected, his tech began flashing through the ancient archive at high speed, rapidly translating from old, formal Japanese to the romanji that Dontello was more comfortable with. Slapping Leo’s hand away from the cracker stacks April had brought in earlier, Don grabbed one for himself; munching away while he dug through the records in search of his previously unknown DNA donor. Though I suppose donor is probably a generous word for it.

                “There.” Leo pointed out, getting a smudged fingerprint on the otherwise pristine screen. Once or twice, Draxum had accidentally referred to the brothers by the project designations he’d originally given them all. In front of them now, was a file index labelled with those very terms.

                Selecting the files, Donatello began speed reading faster than Leo could keep up with; April leaving unnoticed. After a few minutes, Leonardo gave up and sat in the nest of beanbags that Don kept for “pondering”.

                His first run through complete, Donnie went back up to the top and started reading it all again more slowly. The young genius admired the thoroughness of his predecessor’s notes and meticulous methods but his horror at the real world implications was making his churning stomach slowly crawl up his throat. Shouldn’t have had the crackers.

                Absently, he noted the rest of his family entering his lab, a low chatter with Leon starting up. This set Donatello’s anxiety ratcheting up as he realized he was going to have to explain this horror show to his entire clan. A desire to just let them read it themselves was ruthlessly throttled down because even he knew that he couldn’t expose Mikey and Raph to the full unsanitized account of events. Angelo in particular would never fully recover.

                After taking a moment to collect himself, and to cross his arms with hands stuck under his elbows to hide their shaking, Don turned to rip their world apart.

                “What’d you find Donnie?” Oh Raph. You really don’t want to know. He breathed in through his nose and out through his mouth. Alright, once more unto the breach. “Well. We already knew that Draxum essentially made us to be super soldiers in his bid to wipe out humanity,” he began.

                Mikey just had to pipe up. “Yeah, but that was just ‘cause humans wiped out his clan back in Japan.” He sniffled a bit, “But we showed him how humans can be good, and he changed.” The little box turtle turned to April. “He really liked you, y’know?” Their adoptive sister smiled down at him.

                Please stop defending him Mikey. Please, please, please. Don fought against the tic trying to break free in his jaw. “Yes, well, back then he still very much hated them. So, he concocted this plan. Again, we already knew that he saw Papa fighting in the Nexus Arena and decided he would be the ideal specimen to give his turtle soldiers the necessary physicality to serve their purpose.”

                “At least he had a good eye.” Splinter smirked at his sons.

                Leo definitely gets that from Dad. Annoyance at being interrupted doing something difficult was starting to build in the purple softshell. “Right. Anyway, the yokai have a method for combining otherwise incompatible DNA that they’ve already been using for centuries.” He leaned back, trying to relax a little. “When yokai that are of too different kinds wish to have a child one of them would produce an embryo with a donor of their own kind, then DNA from the other parent would be grafted in. The resulting child, genetically, has three parents. The original two and the one that was grafted in. This is the method that Draxum used to make Raph and Mikey.”

                The two mentioned looked at each other for a moment. “So, we’re the kids of Dad and our turtle parents?” Raphael asked.

                Ok, they’re following along so far. That helps. “Basically.” He glanced at the records just to refresh his memory and instantly regretted it. “That’s not what he did with Nardo and I though. Remember we were basically prototypes. He wanted to make a whole army of super soldiers, which would require mass production.” April shuddered a little. Clever girl. “But the traditional yokai method would be inefficient. The genes need a few generations to …. settle, before they can be altered again, and a normal embryo was required to produce a viable lifeform. This means either he’d have to keep a breeding stock of every kind of animal he wished to use around for a steady source of embryos, or use yokai, which he considered immoral.” Leo’s disgusted huff clearly indicated what he thought of that.

Keeping a careful eye on his slider brother, Donatello continued. “Therefore, with Leo and I, he decided to try something experimental. This new method would result in a genetically stable lifeform, so he planned to just continue breeding or even cloning them depending on their individual performance.” Everyone present looked disturbed now, realizing that Draxum had essentially planned to create a race of tailor made war slaves. Mikey especially appeared deeply conflicted about what they’d just learned about their maker.

                Now for the hard part. “With this technique he would take two normal lifeforms, split them at the subatomic level and then graft them together. The resulting creature would be the child of four parents. For us it was our slider and softshell parents, then Dad and a woman that he had picked earlier. This means also came with the advantage of being able to select for parentage with more desired traits.” He held out one hand. “The attributes of our turtle parents,” and the other, “the physical acumen of Dad and the intelligence of a woman that he had selected at an earlier date.”

                Leo and April wore twin expressions of dawning horror, telling Donnie that they’d already figured it out. “Donnie,” Leonardo slowly drew out, “when you say two normal lifeforms…..”

                Donatello quickly ground out the revolting answer. “He combined a sperm sample from Dad with eggs he harvested from our mother to make a human embryo. Accelerated its growth until he had a human baby then split the baby and his selected turtles to recombine them into us.” He met Leo’s eyes, flashing with echoed hatred. “We began life as literally the same person.”

                Leonardo rumbled with a hiss, “And he murdered us.”

                Leo chucked another piece of rubble across the ruined cavern to shatter against a wall. A damaged machine of some kind followed quickly after. The slider shrieked as he heaved another charred lump across the vast space. Burning, furious rage had driven him from their home and to the only place he could still vent against the source.

                Draxum’s long abandoned lab was the last place Leon could go to properly destroy the man’s property without damaging something that might actually be useful. He’d bolted from the Lair after the full implications of what Draxum had done hit him like a truck. If he hadn’t left when he did…. This isn’t enough. Switching gears, the swordsman moved to a different kind of exertion.

                Drawing his twin katanas, Leo slashed a portal into existence under a larger piece of debris. Another swing to produce a portal above and he let gravity accelerate the object. Once he was satisfied with its speed, he sent the mass hurtling into a wall, embedding it deeply into the surrounding structure. Leonardo did it again, and again, and again, and again, until he had multiple portals flashing in and out of existence, flinging rubble about the cavernous space in a woven symphony of light and speed. Eventually he tired and allowed it all to finally collide with a thunderous impact at the center, pelting him with shrapnel as he slumped to his knees.

                “Impressive.” Splinter’s deep, resonate voice just about knocked the exhausted turtle onto his tail. Whipping around, Leo spotted his father carefully picking a path around the destruction his son had wrought. All he could do was stare as the diminutive rat bounced over one last obstacle and landed in front of him.

                “Oh.” Splinter said while taking one of Leo’s hands into his own; knuckles bleeding sluggishly from where he’d punched a console earlier. “Do you have some bandages in your butt bag?” the rat asked.

                “Fanny pack.”

                “Whatever.”

                Leonardo rolled his eyes a little. “Yeah.” Splinter stopped him reaching for it though and dove into the supplies himself. While he was busy with that, the adrenaline was wearing off and Yep, I can feel that now. Both his aching hands and the twinge in his side were now voicing their opinions of his vent session. They weren’t happy. He winced a little as his father carefully wrapped green fingers, turning the white gauze red for the first couple layers.

                Injuries addressed, Splinter picked up and handed over Leo’s discarded blades. Once his weapons were safely stowed away, they just sort of, sat there for a while, quietly waiting for each other to start the conversation.

                “Your shadow is about 20 yards up that tunnel over there.” Splinter pointed to one of the former conduits that had supplied Draxum’s lab complex. Leo thought he’d spotted Casey at some point during his flight from the Lair; the boy’s continued loyalty tugged at the slightly older turtle’s heart. “He’s a good kid.” Leon replied, then sat there, legs crossed, playing with his fingers for a bit longer. “Sorry for taking off like that.”

                Yoshi huffed. “You just had a bomb dropped on you; I don’t blame you for wanting to run.” He perched on a rock next to his much larger son. “When I left, April was seeing to Purple, and Red was taking care of Orange. He was quite upset as well.” This tore at Leo again, forcing him to close his eyes and turn away to try and contain his reaction. The grey rat placed a clawed hand on his scaly shoulder. “Blue.” Leo braced his forearm between his beak and a knee. “Leonardo.” The use of his real name shocked him into facing his father.

                Splinter’s yellow eyes were full of aching sympathy. “It will be all right my son.” It was too much. The slider sprung up, “How can you say that?!” and begun pacing back and forth. “Mikey loved Draxum. He called him Dad for crying out loud! I left because I knew the second he said something about the old goat being a changed man I was gonna turn around and punch him!”

                His REAL Dad grabbed Leo’s hands, stopping his pacing. “And I am proud of you for that. I wish I’d learned to walk away before losing my temper by your age.” A wry grin twisted his muzzle. “It would’ve saved me a lot of fights with your Oji-San.” Leon wasn’t in the mood for jokes though.

                “C’mon Dad, this is serious.” He stepped back, hugging himself tightly. “Look I get why Mikey forgave him, I really do. And I do think that he was changing, Mike’s just that amazing how could he not?” He started pacing again to conceal the shaking in his legs. “But this? I don’t think I can forgive this, Dad. I don’t think I can listen while Mikey talks about that guy like he was family.” Leo hissed a little, “The worst part is, I was actually starting to...” trust him. And didn’t that hit like a brick to the skull.

                Splinter took advantage of the blue-clad turtle’s shock. “And you don’t have to. Son,” he grabbed his boy’s hands again, “however you were starting to feel, it was based on what you knew at the time. Now you’ve learned something that changes how you feel. That is fine. It makes sense.” The rat shook the hands in his grip to make sure he had Leo’s attention. “And your brother will understand that. He is more concerned with how you see him, than how you see Draxum.”

                “I just,” Leo looked down at their joined hands, “I don’t want to hurt him.”

                “Ahhhh, I think you are underestimating your brother. He understands these ‘feelings’ things. Talk to him, you’ll be ok.” The second youngest searched his father’s face. “You’re getting better at these ‘feelings’ things yourself, Pops.”

                Splinter blushed a bit and waved a negligent hand. “Yeah well, turns out therapy isn’t just a bunch of hot air after all.”

                That was new. “You. Are in therapy.” His clear scepticism made Splinter defensively cross his arms. “Whaaaat? It’s been good for me. What with the family drama, being kidnapped by my girlfriend then turned into a lab rat? I needed all the therapy. I started going after that whole Shredder mess.”

                The brothers had noticed their father’s gradual improvement over the last few years, but Leo’d never considered that he’d actually gotten professional help. But he’s right though, isn’t he? He’s been through so much. Leonardo slowly knelt to get on the other’s level. “Dad… I’m proud of you.” The blatant surprise on Splinter’s chubby face broke his son’s heart. Ah Pops, after everything that happened to you….. Leo couldn’t hold back the tears any longer. “Why don’t you hate us?”

                It was something Leo’d wondered about more than once ever since they’d learned the truth of their origins. They were made by a monster, to be monsters, through monstrous means. One more violation heaped on top of everything that’d been done to Hamato Yoshi. Parents dead. Raised by his own grandfather to die in a blaze of glory. Finally builds the life he wanted only to be betrayed by the woman he loved and enslaved as a modern-day gladiator. Then taken and used to make living weapons by a genocidal maniac. And as a final indignity, rendered homeless on the streets after being turned into a rodent. Honestly, they were lucky he’d just been neglectful and lazy due to depression; he could’ve been warped by his experiences in far worse ways.

                Splinter outright pounced on his kid after that question. “I could NEVER hate you. I love you all.” The ferocious hug he’d caught Leo in proved the old man was still pretty strong himself. “I can be unhappy about how I got you and still be happy to HAVE you.” One clawed hand cupped the back of Leon’s head. “My boys were the silver lining in a very dark cloud. Honestly, if it weren’t for you four …“ he shuddered a bit, “I don’t know that I would’ve cared enough to carry on.” Echoed feelings wracked through the young leader’s body. We’re so alike, aren’t we? But Splinter was still talking. “I know I never told you boys I love you enough, and I haven’t been the best parent..” Leo had to cut in, “You’ve been a great dad, especially with everything.” He got that now, he really did. They were starting to talk over each other at this point. “I messed up, and didn’t give you boys enough attention, but I NEED you to know that I love you so much my son. When we thought we’d lost you … it was worse than everything that had come before.” The elder ninja pulled back to cradle his son’s face with both hands now, wiping away silent trails of tears. “But none of you can be held responsible for something that someone else did before you even existed.”

                “I get that in here,” a green-scaled finger pointed at Leo’s head, “it’s convincing this that’s the problem.” He finished with a hand over his aching heart. “I don’t understand how you can look at us and not see all the bad things that were done to you.”

                “Sometimes I do.” Ok, ouch. Splinter quickly added to his statement, “Don’t Red’s eye and Purple’s mechanical arm things sometimes remind you of the Krang?” Leo winced. “Does that make you love them any less?”

                Leonardo stopped for a moment to digest that. Sometimes they trigger flashbacks, but that’s just a reflex, then I get control of myself and it’s just them. “Okay, I see what you’re saying.” He sighed and started to pull back inside his walls. “I guess I just have to keep reminding myself.” A claw under his chin drew his eyes back up. “And I am always happy to provide more reminders.” Then Yoshi smacked his son upside the head. “Maybe we’ll finally get through that thick skull, hmmm? ‘This is the only way Casey,’ my furry butt.”

                Leo barked a laugh. “Please no. I’ve seen more of your butt than any kid should. Ugh, slippery whippery woo. So wrong.” He stood and smiled. “Thanks Dad.”

                The squinty grin he got in return sent warmth surging through him. “Anytime Baby Blue. Now, let’s collect that kid of yours and go home.”

                “Oof,” Leo started walking, striped arms folded behind his head, “teenage dad to a teenager, and I didn’t even get to do the fun part first.” That earned him a snort.

Halfway across the expansive floor Leo piped up, “Y’know he killed her right?” Splinter sighed a little. “I’m sure he wasn’t planning to send me on my way with a juice box and thanks for my contribution. One step at a time Blue. We’ll deal with it one step at a time. Purple will definitely find whatever there is to know about her before too long. In the meantime….” There was Casey, patiently waiting for his sensei, while he fiddled with the phone Donnie had recently gifted him.

                The boy looked up and smiled softly as the two approached. “Better?” He asked.

                “Yeah.” Leo said while Splinter gave him a wink and wandered off ahead. “Hey Case, you got a second?”

                “Of course, Sensei.” He then froze as Leon grabbed him in a hug. “I’m pretty sure things are gonna get uglier before they get better, so I wanted to tell you something before I forget.” Then right into Casey’s ear he whispered, “Thank you Casey Jones. Thank you for saving my family, thank you for giving us back our futures, and thank you for giving me back my life.” The sixteen-year-old shuddered, then broke. He wept into the turtle’s shoulder until Leo could feel the tears slipping under the top of his carapace. Eventually he cried himself out, and managed a soft little “You’re welcome.” After a couple little back pats, the two separated, collected Splinter and portalled back to the Lair.

                They were promptly greeted by Michelangelo wailing at full volume. Casey was alarmed at, what was to him, uncharacteristic behaviour. The two more senior members of the Hamato clan weren’t surprised at all.

                I’m gonna be all hugged out by the end of this. Leon waltzed over to where Raph was holding their little brother and trying to hush him like a giant baby. Over the youngest’s shoulder Raphael mouthed, you ok? Leo nodded and held out his arms to take the tornado siren from his big brother. Hand off complete, the eldest moved off to have a whispered conversation with their father.

                The moment Mikey realized who was now holding him, he wrapped himself around his brother in blue. “Leo! Leo I’m so sorry! I didn’t know! I love you! I’m sorry!” Rinse, lather, repeat. The slider squeezed back as much as he was getting, and took up a corresponding murmur of, “It’s ok. I know. I love you too. It’s ok.” Eventually, the smallest turtle wound down to wet sniffles in Leo’s neck and he knew it was time to try and actually tackle this.

                “Sshhhh, Mikey just listen for a minute, ok?” After his only little brother nodded a bit, Leo continued. “It’s ok. I know you loved … him, and you’re allowed. The fact that you found the good in him, you amaze me, Miguel. I just …. I’m not as kind as you Mikey. Ssh it’s fine, most people aren’t.” He gave the box turtle another little squeeze and then pulled back to look into his caramel eyes. “Could I ask ….” He huffed in frustration, “I don’t know if I can handle hearing people say nice things about him for awhile. Or maybe even ever. Your relationship with him and memories are yours and you have every right to them, but could you not mention him when I’m around please? I just can’t.”

                Michelangelo’s face crumbled. “Of course, Leo! That’s fine! I’m so sorry about all this. I was afraid you would hate me because I was close to him and he hurt you guys so much!”

                Hurt, murdered, potato, tomato. Leon sighed pushing their foreheads together. “Never Mikey. I could never hate you.” They just stood there awhile, swaying back and forth, dancing to an inaudible song. “So,” the orange-clad turtle hesitantly began, “are we good?”

                Leo felt a broken smile crawl across his face. “We’re awesome, little brother. Never doubt that.”

                The younger suddenly pulled back. “Do you think Donnie will be ok with me?”

“Yeah, Mikey. I think he’ll be fine, but he’ll probably be extra crusty for a bit, so be nice.

Angelo nodded chewing on his lower beak. “Don said he was gonna look for more info about your Mom in … his records. Maybe we can find her?”

                Leon winced. “Mikey, back then, Draxum’s whole thing was killing humans. I’m pretty sure he didn’t keep her alive.” But the optimism of Michelangelo Hamato knows no bounds. “Dad got away from him, maybe she did too!”

                “She didn’t.” Everyone turned as Donatello’s flat voice rang out across the Lair’s central space. Leo’s heart sank. He knew what was coming, but it needed to be done. Turning around, he saw his twin descending from the lab, April a grim shadow behind him. While Don’s expression didn’t give anything away, their dearest friend was emoting plenty for both of them. Whatever they’d found, it wasn’t good.

                Leo walked to meet his brother. Normally they’d hold a more open circle for getting a Donnie info dump, but this was more personal; he felt a need to be front and center. “You found her file.”

                The softshell nodded. “I found her file.” He began typing on his wrist comp, pulling up a holoscreen for all to see; and for the first time in his life, Leonardo laid eyes on his mother. She wasn’t a super model, but Leo thought she was reasonably pretty. A young white woman, chestnut brown hair liberally shot through with chunky blonde highlights; a bright and cheerful wide grin across her face lighting up a pair of blue/green eyes crinkled over her freckled cheeks. A pang gripped his heart. She looks like she was around our age.

                Donatello started reading off the record Draxum had made of their mother. “Claudia Sullivan. Born July 6, 1981. She was pursuing her Master’s in biomechanical engineering at Columbia. Obviously, she was something of a prodigy, which is why Draxum selected her.” He looked down to his wrist controls again. “I researched her further online. Her missing persons file is still active. She was survived by her parents and younger siblings, two brothers and one sister.” April put a comforting hand on his shoulder as Don worked his jaw a bit then continued. “Draxum abducted her March 3rd, 2000. He then … harvested … what he needed from her and,” their purple clad brother paused, taking a moment to collect himself again, “and terminated her on the 6th. Fortunately, he saw no reason to interact with her at all, so she was kept sedated the entire time. She never knew what was happening to her. According to the file, her remains are currently in a preservation unit in one of his storage caches under North Brother Island.” Donatello finished, took a moment then met Leonardo’s equally glistening eyes.

                Peripherally, Leon noted the family closing ranks. Mikey was still clinging to one of Leo’s hands with Casey coming up to take hold of the other. Dad and Raph exchanged horrified, but also unsurprised looks off to his right. Everything slowly became white noise and static except for one repetitive thought ringing through his mind.

                “Donnie, are you telling me that our mother’s body is stuffed in a specimen jar on a shelf somewhere?”

                Don blinked once and apparently decided against his usual insistence on accuracy. “Essentially, yes.”

                Amid the hushed whispers and stricken faces, Leo just resignedly closed his eyes. “Dammit Barry.”

                They’d all been awake far too long at this point, but no one would be able to sleep with the knowledge that an unwilling member of their family was still squirreled away in a collection somewhere like a common possession. This led the entire clan to be standing around while Donnie’s drill (utility version) worked its way down to Draxum’s storage unit in the miniature forest of North Brother Island. Once he’d been inside and seen the space, it would be safe for Leo to portal them back and forth.

                The middle children were more in the middle than ever with their loved ones clustered tightly around making sure their support was felt, though they made sure not to overwhelm Donatello. He appreciated it dearly, but there was no way he could express it right now as touching his emotions at all would open the floodgates with no closing them for hours at least. The softshell focused on his controls and the drill’s proximity to a void he’d detected at the recorded coordinates below them, unwilling to risk any of the cache’s contents being damaged.

                One thing he was acutely aware of though, was Leonardo. His brother, twin admit it already, felt like standing next to a seething pit of anger and hatred. One thing they’d all learned over the years was that a quiet Leo was a dangerous thing. Normally he’d be chattering, laughing or something. Even when he’d been so badly injured after the invasion, their brother had still been cracking jokes, trying to lighten the atmosphere, or muttering self-deprecations and pleas while fighting his exhaustion and pain at his lowest. Now he just stood there, radiating such darkness, that Don could not comprehend how the others could stand being so close to him in this state.

                Finally, the drill reached a depth level with the floor of the room below and Don deactivated it for Leo to portal back to their garage later. Without needing to ask, Raph scooped up their mammals and jumped into the hole, his brothers following. Once on the bottom, the two eldest activated their powers and began carefully scraping away the dirt and plant material that made up the chamber’s walls. As they cleared a path, shelving on the other side became apparent, and their younger brothers moved in to gently push it to the side allowing everyone to walk into the room.

                Like the other caches, its walls were lined with shelving; storing boxes of data units, materials and artefacts. Fortunately, there was only one thing in the room large enough to contain what they were looking for. To their right, in a corner, was a long metallic looking box with a segmented lid, about the size and shape of a coffin. The twins shared a look and walked over.

                Donatello stowed away his gear and laid a hand on the end segment closest to himself. It was warm and subtly vibrating. Just get it over with. He breathed in through his nose, out through his mouth and slid back the section of lid to see ……… feet? Oh, for the love of. … Looking up from the pair of feminine human feet floating in front of him, Don was startled to hear his brother in blue’s aborted snort. Yes, Nardo thank you. Then he saw the moment Leo realised he was at the “right” end and decided to take pity on the slider.

                Together they pulled aside the cover to reveal their mother’s face. It was so cliché, but she really did look like she was just sleeping … while floating in glowing honey but still, it was undoubtedly the woman who’s picture he’d found earlier. “She looks exactly the same.” Leo whispered next to him, face dimly lit from below by the glow of the tank. Don sidled a little closer. “The fluid removes any microbes, enzymes, etc that would cause degradation and the filters purify the fluid. In here, she could theoretically last for a century or two without any noticeable decay.” Her hair waving in the flow from the filtration unit was slightly hypnotic. He noted a small birthmark on her shoulder. Huh, it kinda looks like a mouse.

                “We can’t leave her like this.” Leon said definitively, and Don couldn’t find it in himself to disagree. “But what should we do, Leo? We have no idea what she would have preferred be done with her remains.”

                Raph’s massive hands settled on each of the twin’s shoulders, drawing their attention up to him. “You guys are her sons, whatever you choose to do, we’ll help.”

                “Yes, we will.” Splinter added, “But not today. We’re all tired. We will take her home, and then you two can figure out what to do tomorrow.”

                It’d taken them another couple of hours to relocate the twins’ mother and cover up the hole they’d dug, wanting to make sure no one stumbled onto the cache before they had a chance to clear out its contents. By the time they finished, everyone was dirty and tired. The turtles settled for dunking themselves in a large pool they’d built in part of the old tracks while their warm-blooded fam cycled quickly through the showers before they crashed in their living room.

                They didn’t all rest easy though. The resident insomniacs were soon both up and parked cross-legged on a table next to their mother’s current … container. “What’er we gonna do Donnie?” Leon mumbled, chin propped against a fist. “She deserves the best we can manage after everything.”

                Don tapped his fingers against his folded arms. “Agreed. However, I’m not sure what we can realistically do. According to my research, her family is Catholic, but we are not able to perform a full Catholic funeral or bury her in their family plot.”

                “Her family,” Leo sighed, “I wonder if they ever got over losing her.”

                “I checked their social media; they still post requests for tips or information on the anniversary of her disappearance. There’s even a reward for information that leads to finding her.” Donatello replied. He leaned back on his hands, discontent at the thought of what those poor people were still going through. Don might not be the most empathetic, but even he was bothered by the thought of a family wondering where a lost loved one was. He unfortunately had first hand, albeit brief, knowledge of what that was like.

                “I wonder..” the younger trailed off.

                “Sigh. Spit it out.”

                “Well, I wonder, if her family is the answer.” Leo muttered; red stripes screwed up in a thoughtful frown.

                “What are you talking about? Are you going to call them? ‘Hello people still distraught over the loss of their child, could you tell us what she would have liked as an alternative to your preferred funerary customs? Just asking for a friend.’” Don finished off with jazz hands for emphasis.

                Leo rolled his eyes. “No, I’m wondering if we could set things up so that THEY could bury her; the right way. Maybe we leave her somewhere the cops will find her?”

                “That’s … not a horrible idea,” the genius mused, “Even without the preservation unit itself, the fluid has permeated her tissues and would keep her intact on its own for a month at least.” He started rubbing his chin. “If we left her in a stolen van near a police station, she would be found quickly. Then her relatives could claim her body and have a proper funeral.” Don braced his hands on his knees, frowning slightly. “I don’t like the idea of simply dumping her for others to find though. It feels … inadequate.”

                “Ditto. We should leave her in a proper casket, and y’know, clothed.”

                That would certainly afford her greater dignity. “It still doesn’t seem like enough. She never knew we existed and may not have been happy about it if she had; but she’s still our mother. I … I want to DO something for her.”

                “I feel you bro.” Leon sat, rubbing his hands together while he thought, then looked over at Donnie, head hanging low. “What if WE made the casket?”

                The purple clad brother paused. “We could order materials. My equipment is more geared toward metalworking, but it would do. It would likely simply end up as evidence in the inevitable criminal investigation though.”

                Leonardo picked at his ankle wraps for a moment. “Yeah but... at least we’ll have done what we could to send her off respectfully and give her family some peace.”

                Hours later, when the rest of the clan woke, the twins were in Donnie’s lab, pouring over design plans and debating material choices. Raph wandered in, trying to make sense of the controlled chaos his younger brothers were immersed in.

                “Uh.. whatcha doin’ guys?”

                Neither of them looked up as they continued going over a list on the scrolling screen. “We think we’ve figured out what to do with our mother.” Leo absently answered. “That one Donnie,” he pointed at an entry.

“I can machine the same thing out of a higher quality alloy for half the cost.” Don scoffed.

“Then let’s do that.”

                Raph tried to get a closer look at what they were working on. “That’s great guys! What’s the plan?” Disaster twin plans could get scary sometimes. They shared a look and Leo piped up. “Well first we’re gonna make her a decent coffin and get her some clothes,” Don took up the telling, “Then we are going to steal a van and leave her in it near a police station so that she will be found quickly.” Leo cut in again, “We figure the cops’ll contact her family so they can claim her body and give her a proper funeral. What about the lining Don?”

                “How do you feel about lavender satin?”

                “Donnie……”

                “What?! It is literally the colour of grace, refinement and royalty.”

                “That explains some things.”

                “Hey!”

                “Guys!” Raph bellowed, snapping his brothers out of their reflexive bickering.

“Sorry.” They said in tandem, looking down, embarrassed at arguing over this particular subject. The oldest rubbed his eyes, chasm, and sighed. “Nah it’s ok. Honestly that sounds like a great plan. Is there anything we can do to help?”

                The two smaller turtles exchanged a look. “Um, we were kinda thinking we’d do this ourselves big guy.” Leon replied hesitantly.

                Unexpectedly, Raph was a bit hurt by that. “Oh. Right. I guess she is YOUR Mom after all.” Strangely, he felt… excluded. The snapper looked down, trying to stifle the feeling of a separation building between him and his middle brothers.

                Leonardo stepped closer and took one of Raph’s giant hands in his own. “Raph, it’s just… This is the ONLY thing we can do for her, and we want to give her our best effort. We wanna be able to say that WE did this for her. Does that make sense?”

                “Yeah. Yeah, it does. Sorry.” The gentle giant dropped his other hand on Leo’s shoulder. “All the same, if there’s anything you guys need, let us know. Even if its just tea and coffee, ok?”

                They both gave him little smiles, Leo’s a bit brighter. “Absolutely big guy. And thanks, for understanding.”

                “No problem, just remember, Raph’s here for yah.” Giving a last shoulder squeeze, and a quick smile to Donnie, the eldest turtle headed back out to the kitchen where their family was getting ready for breakfast. He shook his head as they looked up. “They’re busy. They’ve figured out what they wanna do for their Mom and they’re in full manic make mode.”

                “What do they want us to do?” Mikey asked, placing a plate stacked high with pancakes in the table centre for everyone to serve themselves from. Raph sat down and started to fork some onto his plate. “Nothing. They wanna take care of it themselves, since they figure it’s the only thing they’ll ever be able to do for her.”

                Splinter grunted around a mouthful. “Understandable. What are they going to do?”

                Raph outlined the twin’s plan, trying not to think too hard about a dead body being in their house. “Huh. That’s a really good idea.” Mikey said, while serving up his own portion. “I wish we could help though.” He chewed for a minute then brightened up. “Oh! We could make it easier for them! Like not bugging Donnie to fix stuff for awhile, an’ I could bring them their meals!”

                “We could take care of their chores and stuff too.” Casey chimed in, shoveling more pancakes into his mouth.

                Raph sat back a bit and smiled proudly at his family. “Yeah. Yeah! That’s a great idea guys. We take care of everything else so they can take care of her. Alright Operation Support is in effect!”

                For two weeks the entire family worked feverishly, some more aware of what was going on than others. The twins, well and truly fixated on their self-appointed task, made great progress. Supplies ordered and purchased through the Hidden City to avoid future police inquiries, they gradually constructed a truly beautiful casket for their mother. An amalgam of golden polished white oak, cast iron style fittings and the most lustrous mother of pearl silk lining that Senor Hueso could track down, took shape under their careful hands.

                At the moment, they were painstakingly using gothic stencils with black paint on either side of the lid. Donnie on the outside, laying down her name and dates while Leo reclined on a protective tarp to leave a message from the boys inside the lid. Silence had fallen as they focused on their individual tasks, but eventually the younger of the two crumpled.

                “How’s it goin’ Donnie?”

                “Fine.”

                “Gotta say, this thing’s more comfortable than I thought. It’s like being in a cocoon.”

                “Mmhmmm.” We almost ended up making one for you too. Donnie shook his head to dismiss the thought, then refocused on leaving an even layer of black before peeling back the stencil.

                “You’re being awfully broody over there Dontron. What’s crawled up your shell?”

                How?! “Excuse me for being solemn whilst working on a coffin for our murdered mother ‘Nardo.” Don snarked, hoping to distract his intrusive twin. He got his wish, for about two seconds. “Nope, there’s something more Don.”

                The young genius rolled his eyes while carefully cleaning up some edges. “Oh, you think so?”

                “I know so.”

                That’s it. “How? How Leo? How can you possibly know that there’s ‘something more’?”

                The tarp rustled on the other side of the oaken lid. “I just know.”

                Fed up, Donatello put his paintbrush down on his little rolling table. “That doesn’t make any sense! You can’t even see me right now, how can you know something is bothering me? You do this all the time. I say one thing, but you insist that I’m thinking or feeling another when you can’t by any measurable means know it.”

                There was more tarp rustling sounds before Leo came around the end of the casket. There was an odd mix of frustration and concern on his face. “Don. Feelings aren’t measurable. I just... get a feeling and run with it.”

                “But how are you RIGHT?!” That was what really got him. Leo seemed to always peg exactly how Donnie felt on intuition alone and on top of that he somehow knew that they weren’t just regular brothers with no empirical information whatsoever. It was statistically impossible; it drove Donnie absolutely nuts. “How do you KNOW what I’m feeling? How did you KNOW that we were ‘twins’?” He asked waving his hands about, finishing with furious air quotes.

                Leo softly walked over and oh so gently took his brother’s frantic hands. “BECAUSE we’re twins. Don, we were literally the same person once. We have two halves of the SAME BRAIN. If regular twins can pick up on each other’s thoughts and feelings, is it really that hard to believe that we can?”

                “Then why don’t I feel it too?!” And there was the rub. He was already unfeeling (low empathy, it’s not the same thing), and he couldn’t even get a sense for what his literal other half was feeling. Tears were starting to burn in the corners of his eyes.

                Leonardo moved a little closer. “Aw Donnie. I think you probably do.” What? “But like you always said, we’re not even the same species. For us to be twins didn’t make any sense. You probably just dismissed anything you picked up from me as, I dunno, a stray thought or something. You had no reason to think we had an actual twin thing going on, and you’re all about reason.”

                The softshell let that percolate a bit. “I wasn’t wrong, I was misinformed.”

                Leo rolled his eyes. “Yes Donatello, that’s the takeaway here.”

                His beak twitched a bit. “According to your theory then, if I allow myself to be more… open to thoughts and feelings, I’ll be able to get a sense of you?”

                The firm hands of his brother settled on Donnie’s shoulders. “I’m sure of it. With some practice, you’ll be snitching on me in no time.” One last squeeze, then Leo released his hold and stepped back. “Let’s get this done. She’s been waiting long enough.”

                Forty-eight hours later, the middle Hamato sons were dressing against a chilly New York November night. The casket was sat on a rolling table, ready to be loaded into their newly pilfered van. It’d been more than a little awkward getting their mother cleaned up, dressed and moved into her custom-made coffin; both the boys having blushed until their faces hurt, but it was done. All that remained was a short drive to park by a busy precinct and come home.

                It all seemed so anti-climactic. Clad in their respective hoodies, pants and running shoes, the two looked at each other, nodded and made for the coffin. “Ahem.” They turned to find their entire family plus Todd and Hueso cautiously entering the garage, Splinter in the lead. “If it is alright with you, we’d like to pay our respects before you leave.”

                Leo and Don were struck speechless. Both fighting tears, they silently moved to the ends of the coffin, quickly lifting the lid, before they stood straight, hands clasped, as an honour guard. Claudia Sullivan lay between her only children, hair loose, in a simple white dress, set out as a modern-day Snow White.

                Todd gathered up the nerve to step forward first. “I’m sorry, pretty lady, that we never got to meet. Your boys are so nice, and my puppies love them so I’m sure I would’ve loved you too. I’ll name a puppy just for you. I hope you’re happy now.” Then he bounced off. Leo shook his head a little, blinking with a bemused smile on his face.

                Senor Hueso straightened his tie as he approached next. After a quick nod to each of the boys he addressed the body. “Madam. My deepest regrets for what befell you and having to consider these two miscreants your sons.” Fortunately, they took the jab with the good humour intended. “However, you should know that they helped saved the world, so without them, we all would have been lost, and while nothing can make what was done to you right, I hope you will at least consider the end results to be somewhat worth it.” He bowed and walked back to the others, whispering to Splinter along the way that he would be sending an order of the boys’ favourite pizzas over for them later.

                Casey walked up, wringing his hands. Looking up, he met his mentor’s eyes and after Leo’s encouraging nod, he spoke. “Ma’am. What Senior Hueso said was true. Without them we’d be lost; I know that for a fact. Personally, I couldn’t have asked for better uncles growing up, than your sons and their brothers, so thank you, and good-bye.” The human boy shared another watery smile with his Sensei, then back away.

                April came forward, silently giving each of the twins a white rose and a tender hug before stepping back to bow deeply to their mother. “Thank you for two of my best friends in the world. I hope you’ll be able to rest in peace with your family.” She returned to the others, giving Raphael a pat on one massive arm as he took his turn, Mikey perched on his shoulders.

                The bookend brothers paused a moment, while Donnie sniffed a bit to regain his composure, then bowed formally.  Switching back and forth between snapper and box they said,

“We’re so sorry for what our maker did to you.”

“We wish there was more we could do.”

                “We promise that we’ll never let anyone use his methods to hurt anyone else,”

                “and, that we’ll be the best brothers we can to your sons.”

                They backed up five paces and were replaced by their patriarch. Hamato Yoshi bowed right to the floor in front of the mother of his twin sons. “My Lady. I wish you had been able to know our sons. Though what was done to us was horrible, they are wonderful boys.” Said sons were both sniffling now, fighting to maintain what composure they could. “I know that I am very proud and love them both dearly. I’m sure that you would have too, given the chance.” He then stood, and nodded to them.

                As one, Leonardo and Donatello turned, lowered the lid, walked to either side of the casket and hefted it up by the dark handles. With dignity, they gently bore her into the back of the stolen van where they secured the coffin with sturdy straps. Leo crab walked up to the driver’s seat while Don stayed behind to give their family a small smile and a quiet “Thank you,” before pulling the double doors shut.

                Thirty minutes later, Leo pulled over as close to the precinct as he dared. Getting up, he crouch-walked back to where Donnie was making sure everything had managed the trip intact. “I guess this is it huh?” The slider asked.

                “I suppose so.”

                Slowly, they stood as best they could, backs to the doors. They slowly bowed, then the elder twin spoke. “Rest in peace, Mother. We wish we could have done more for you.”

                The younger chimed in. “We wish we could give you justice; we hope this is enough.”

                They exited the van, making sure it was locked up tight, and casually walked off. Once around the corner, Leo pulled the keys out of his pocket and hit the emergency button on the attached fob. A fading horn blared behind them as the twins meandered their way to a distant manhole, arms slung around each other’s shoulders.

                On a cold January morning, the BAU met with lots of hot coffee and a box of hefty doughnuts. Their chipper chatter cut off as Penelope and JJ strode in fast. “Ok,” Garcia started, “we’ve got one out of New York.”

                “Really? Is an unsub trying to use the disaster as a cover?” David Rossi asked, while reaching for one of the files JJ had just deposited in the centre of the table.

                JJ shook her head. “No; this body was left in a coffin, in a locked van outside the 20th precinct. They set off the alarm as they left.” She sat as Garcia turned on the main screens.

                “Claudia Sullivan. Reported Missing March 4th, 2000.” A picture of the young woman came up, bright smile for all to see. “Police found nothing. Nada. Absolutely squat. After 7 years she was declared dead. Her case is still open but there have been no leads, until now.”

                A picture of a white van with a wooden coffin in the back was next on the screen. Emily took up the telling, reading from her file. “November 18th her body was discovered in a custom-built coffin, her name on it with her date of birth and a date of death listed as March 6th?” Penelope advanced the presentation again, revealing the coffin lid as described.

                “So according to the unsub, she was killed after a couple of days? What’s he been doing with her body since then?” Morgan asked, taking a sip from his mug.

                “Whatever it was, he should patent his skin care program and make a fortune.” Garcia answered, bringing up a picture of Claudia in repose, looking exactly the same as the day she disappeared.

                Reid leaned forward, entranced. “She hasn’t decomposed at all.”

                “Nope.” Penelope answered, blonde hair waving as she shook her head. “Not a single hair out of place. The only thing they could find wrong, other than her being, y’know, dead, was that umm… her ovaries had been removed.” A picture of a female torso with two small horizontal incisions was next. “Cause of death is undetermined,” JJ supplied, “an unidentified substance was found in her body, but best they can tell it was introduced post-mortem. And the coffin was homemade with no progress thus far on tracing the materials.”

                “Ok,” Morgan spoke up, reading further in the file, his dark brow furrowed deeply, “well the careful preservation says she meant something to him. The coffin and everything could be a sign of remorse. Maybe after 20 years, something’s happened to make him regret what he did? Staring an alien invasion in the face could make a person take a hard look at themselves.”

                David shook his head. “Maybe, but I’m not seeing how this falls into our wheelhouse. NYPD is swamped with id’ing victims of the attack, but this girl’s been missing so long, waiting until they clear their backlog won’t make a huge difference.”

                “Ah,” Penelope exclaimed, “But see, with that huge backlog the NYPD have been running DNA through their crime labs and others that have volunteered their resources from around the world 24/7 ever since, and when their CSI’s found blood under one of the coffin’s hinges they threw that sample in too. ‘Why not?’ they figured.” She turned back to the screen. “The results came in two days ago. The blood from the coffin maker came back as being related to Ms Sullivan as a parent-child match.”

                Aaron looked up from his file. “The coffin maker was her child?”

                “Yep,” the blonde chirped, “a son to be specific.”

                “But she didn’t have any children.” Emily said, finger on a page before her.

                “Not when she disappeared.” Garcia answered, clicking the remote again. “And that’s not all. The DNA matched to another missing person’s file. Yoshi Hamato, immigrated to America from Japan in the early 90’s disappeared in 99. No trace of him since either.”

__________________________________________________________________________________

                “So obvious question, is Hamato our unsub?” Derek threw out, digging in the box for a honey crueller.

                Reid shook his head, rapidly devouring the assembled files. “Unlikely, he doesn’t have the medical background necessary to produce a child from harvested ovaries. He was probably also a victim.”

                “Yoshi Hamato, why is that name familiar?” Rossi mused, leaning back to brace his hands on the nape of his neck.

                “You’d probably be more familiar with his screen name,” JJ took the remote from a now seated Garcia to bring up an image of an Asian man in a ludicrous outfit. “Lou Jitsu. He was a minor celebrity in the 90’s.”

                “Lou Jitsu? Wasn’t that the guy in those cheesy food-themed action flicks?” Prentiss chuckled, snatching a chocolate doughnut that Reid had been reaching for.

                “Oh yeah,” Morgan smiled, “I remember those. Not much plot, but you gotta admit, man had some moves.”

                “So, what we have,” Hotcher interjected, reigning the discussion back in, “is a young man and young woman who both vanished within a year of each other.”

                “Twenty years later, her body reappears with DNA from their child on her bespoke coffin.” Emily continued.

                Reid flipped back and forth between the two people’s records. “He was an accomplished martial artist, and she was a rising star in academia. Custom baby?”

                Rossi steepled his fingers. “Unsub and his partner are unable to have a child, so he figures ‘May as well make the child of our dreams.’? Or he’s just playing mad scientist and went the eugenics route.”

                “Race doesn’t seem to be an issue.” JJ added. “He was Asian, she was White.”

                “Unless race IS the issue.” Derek countered. “If it was about infertility, the unsub and his spouse might be a White/Asian interracial couple. In which case they’d want their custom baby to resemble them.”

                Emily chimed in again, “Is there anything else we have on the actual unsub?”

                Penelope took the remote back again. “The unidentified substance he used? The crime lab has seen it before. About twenty-five years ago, there was a streak of homeless people who vanished, and their bodies were later found scattered around the city. All of them had been .. immersed in the same substance at some point. A few had been, ah, harvested for their, shall we say, genetic material.” Pictures of several people flashed across the street, naked and discarded in various positions.

                “Test subjects.” Hotch frowned. “He was practicing.”

                “And there hasn’t been any other bodies with this ‘unknown substance’ since? Other than Ms Sullivan.” Rossi asked. Garcia shook her head, and looked around, wondering where the analysts were going to go next.

                Emily sat back in her chair. “So, this guy makes a few test runs, abducts the people he’s selected and does, whatever he was planning to do. No more connected disappearances, that we know of. If it’s an infertility thing, possibly his spouse carries the baby, knowingly or not, OR they hire/abduct a surrogate.”

                Derek leaned in next. “The resulting kid grows up. We don’t know if he knew truth, or just found out. Something changed. Given the timing, it was probably the invasion. A lot of people were killed or so badly injured that they need to be in care now. Maybe the kid felt safe enough to act or was digging into personal affairs and discovered the truth. Either way, he made a coffin for his mother and did his best to deliver her to the police, probably in the hopes that she’d be returned to her family.”

                “Besides the DNA evidence, what else do we have on the son? He couldn’t be any older than twenty-one now.” Reid followed.

                JJ pulled another file out of her pile. “The van was stolen earlier that day. No progress on tracing any of the materials used to make the coffin, or even the dress, which is weird. The detective’s prevailing theory is that he sourced them from off the grid, home business types.”

                “There’s video,” Penelope cut in, narrating as playback began. “3 am, the van pulls up in front of the 20th precinct. Five minutes later two men exit the rear of the vehicle and walk off.” Two lean figures saunter away, clearly comfortable with each other. “After they get about a block, they trigger the van’s alarm.” Lights start flashing on the vehicle. “Thirty minutes later, police discover the van and Claudia Sullivan’s body.”

                Emily’s dark eyes roamed over the selected stills. “Two men. The son and a friend? Sibling? Cousin? Where did they go?”

                Aaron dug through the files. “According to this, the surveillance cameras lost them somewhere in Central Park.”

                “Whatever their connection, working together to dump a body? They must be awfully close.” Dave tacked on. “There’s no more physical evidence?”

                “Ah but there is.” Penelope wielded her remote once again, with a flourish. “The blood trace was contaminated with DNA from a red-earned slider, a very common species of pet turtle, and handprints. Three to be specific. Two right prints and one left.”

                “Any matches?” Morgan asked.

                “Nope, they’re too smudged, but….” Three triple digit handprints flash up. “They’re still very distinctive.”

                “Tridactylism.” Reid began, utterly fascinated with what he was seeing. “It’s a type of symbrachydactyly, when the digits don’t form correctly during gestation. It can manifest as small fingers, missing bones or, as in this case, merged fingers.”

                “Ok. There can’t be that many Asian/Caucasian men born with three fingers in New York City.” Derek tapped his pen on the table.

                “Alright, Penelope? Start looking into fertility Doctors in the Tri-State Area with surgical training who are also Caucasian or Asian, possibly,” Hotch’s attention wavered to Reid’s face, “with a spouse of the other race and a mixed-race son. Start with people killed, missing or severely injured in the alien attack. Spencer, what is it?” The section chief asked, seeing something in his protégé’s eyes.

                “Well,” the young doctor, paused. “It’s just … there’s something about the handprints…” He got up and walked over to the screen. “Can you make them bigger?” Garcia blinked and complied as Emily went to join their friend. “What are you seeing Spence?”

                “The right handprints,” he gestured, “they’re very similar.”

                “Yeah….” Morgan drawled.

                “But they’re not identical. There are small differences in the clear friction ridges, and they have different calluses. The chances of two people having the exact same form of this defect are infinitesimal, even in full siblings it would be near impossible. It’s not genetic, it’s caused by conditions in the womb…”

                Emily got it. “Twins.” Her mouth dropped open as she locked back on to the video, down in the corner. “It’s not Claudia’s son and a friend, they’re both her sons. Twin boys.”

                “Okay,” Aaron cut back in, “Penelope, start another search for twin boys, of mixed race with this particular form of birth defect. The rest of us will go to New York.”

                Garcia cut in. “Just don’t expect help from the NYPD, they’re swamped and don’t have any people to spare.”

                “Understood.” Everyone started packing up. “JJ, I assume the family has been notified by now.”

                “Yes, but her parents were in the middle of the South Pacific on their sailboat. It took a while just to make contact, and even longer for them to reach port and arrange travel back to the States. They should be arriving sometime tomorrow.” The slim blonde said, while gathering up her own collection of files.

                “Prepare everything you can on the twins. This family has endured decades of loss and pain, let’s give them some hope.”

                Five hours later the BAU field agents were setting up at the 20th NYPD Precinct. There were no white boards to spare, so they were making do taping papers to the conference room walls. Derek finish getting their laptop connected to the precinct wifi. “Hey Baby Girl.”

                “Hey Chocolate Thunder.” Garcia’s voice rang out from the speakers.

                “Have you dug anything up on our unsub or the twins?” Sympathy swept over his face as she shook her head. “Nada again on both. It’s driving me nuts. This doctor? I found 2 male and 3 female fertility doctors who were in White/Asian interracial relationships, one had twin sons, but they’re only twelve years old. I did find one set of twins in the tri-state area with symbra… whatever, but they’re a set of thirty-year-old women, and they have four fingers, not three. Whoever these people are, they aren’t in any database I have access too. How is it 2023 and there’s NO record of them?”

Derek’s heart ached for his best friend. “Aw Mama. You know how some people are, hiding from the government, and an unsub has even more reason to. There’s something online, we just don’t know what it is yet. Let us do our thing, we’ll find some more strings for you to yank on.”

“Thanks sugar.” She signed off.

He sat back in the uncomfortable chair, thinking about the two young men (boys?) they were searching for. Were they raised like beloved sons, or were they mistreated; just the results of an experiment. Were they happy? Were they mourning their mother’s killer?

Rossi walking in with bags of takeout knocked the younger man out of his thoughts. “Hey, talked to Penelope, her searches didn’t turn up anything. Where’d you go?”

“Ah, first I went to look at the physical evidence with Hotch. Then while he went to join Spencer looking through the evidence from the practice murders and Yoshi Hamato’s case, I made a little detour to Carmine’s. Some of the best Italian food in this part of New York.” The senior agent started setting out containers. “Emily called, she and JJ talked to Claudia’s parents. They managed to swing an earlier flight and are on their way in now.”

“Good.” Derek turned away, not bothering to grab any food.

“What’s up?” Rossi asked, sitting down with his meal.

Morgan rubbed one of his eyes. “I’m just thinking about those boys. What kinda life they might’ve had. Wondering if they’re safe now.”

Dave chewed a bit. “Well what kinda life? We won’t know until we find them. Are they safe now? Depends. If the unsub’s dead or crippled, probably yeah.”

“Well, let’s hope for that then.”

Prentiss organized the contents of her file folder, mentally running over details again. She also checked that there was plenty of water and Kleenex, ready for their victim’s family to arrive with JJ. Speak of the devil. JJ walked around the bullpen corner; an older couple close behind her. Emily took a deep breath and did her best to school her face into a welcoming yet sympathetic smile.

The door opened. “And this is Special Agent Emily Prentiss. She’s part of our Behavioural Analysis Unit. Emily? This is Bruce Sullivan and Doctor Maria D’Orso-Sullivan, Claudia Sullivan’s parents.”

The profiler took them in as quickly as she could, pairing it with what she’d read. Mr Sullivan was relatively fit for a man in his 60’s, barely a gut starting to form. Slightly shorter than his wife, his full, greying beard and head of hair paired with a warm flannel lined jacket, he was every inch the former navy man. Doctor Sullivan’s wavy copper hair, was tied back into a simple ponytail, liberally shot through with her own greys. Prentiss could see where Claudia got her eyes.

“Hello. Please have a seat.” The senior agent shook hands with both, then pulled out a chair with the others and sat. “I wish we could’ve given you better news about your daughter.”

Maria put a hand up. “It’s alright Agent Prentiss,” traces of Brooklyn accent in her strong voice, “Honestly, we pretty much resigned ourselves to Claudia being dead years ago. All we care about now, is finding out what happened and getting justice for her if we can.”

“It feels horrible to say, but knowing that she died only a few days after, that she hasn’t been scared and suffering all this time, it helps.” Bruce added, a conflicted look in his pale blue eyes. “Ticks me off the bastard had the nerve to build her a coffin though.”

The agents shared a glance. “Actually, the crime lab has been able to process more of the evidence since you were notified, and the results have been… startling. The coffin wasn’t made by the man that killed your daughter.”

They both looked confused. “Then who?” Bruce asked.

“We found some blood under one of the hinges. It was a match to Claudia and a man that disappeared a year before.” JJ told them, trying to be gentle.

“A match?” Maria asked. “You mean like, a child? We have a grandchild?”

Emily took back over. “Two actually, there’s matching distinct handprints, but with different calluses and scars. We think they’re a set of twin boys. They’re the ones that made the coffin for Claudia.”

“They made it? We have grandsons? This is… it’s …. I need a minute.” Bruce bowed his head, cupping shaking hands over his face, while Maria rubbed her husband’s back. She met Emily’s eyes. “Tell us everything.”

“The only things we’re sure of now, is that someone abducted and killed several homeless people, we think they were practice runs. Then he abducted a man, Yoshi Hamato, and a year later your daughter. At some point, they were used to make these boys. Our guess is that they’re somewhere between the ages of 16 and 21.” She shifted a bit. “Our best guess is that the abductor was badly injured or killed during the invasion. Then the boys either learned the truth or finally felt free enough to act.” Prentiss tried to meet both their eyes. “In any case, they took great care and effort to return your daughter to you with dignity.”

“Then why haven’t they tried to contact us? Come forward?” Bruce asked, sliding his hands down to cover his mouth.

Emily sighed, and JJ took over. “It could be a few things. Remember, they’re young, and they’ve either had their whole world turned upside down, learning a horrible truth; or they’ve known all along but been raised and conditioned to accept it and love their adoptive parent anyway. Both circumstances would take a lot to work through, even with therapy. But they’ve already taken the first step, like Emily said, they cared enough to do something. They cared enough to bring her back to you.”

                “What about the other person he took? Have you found his body?” Maria’s eyes flicked back and forth between the other women.

                Emily stepped back in. “No. Yoshi Hamato’s only living relative, his grandfather, died a couple years after he disappeared. So, we think the boys will see to him themselves if they do have his body.”

                “Then… we’re their only family?” Maria said.

                “Biologically, yes.” Emily said, “But we don’t know how they were brought up. They might have an entire adoptive family. Thing is, we haven’t been able to find a record of anyone matching their description. They may have been raised under the radar.”

                “Wait, description? Somebody saw them?” Bruce asked, twining his hands with Maria’s again.

                “Not exactly,” JJ cut in again, opening the file in front of her. “Knowing who their parents are, we know that they’re half white and half Japanese. The DNA shows that they’re male and from their handprints we know that they are twins and have a rare birth defect.” She pulled out the handprints in question.

                “Tridactylism?” Maria ran a finger over the picture.

                JJ blinked. “You’ve heard of it?”

                “I’m a marine biologist, I’ve seen it in some of my specimens that were affected by pollution. Alligators, marine iguanas and such.” The doctor replied.

                “Right. The only other thing we have is CCTV video from the night they dropped off Claudia’s body.” JJ handed over some stills. “We never got a shot of their faces, but…”

                The two bereaved parents got their first looks at their wayward grandsons. “Why do you think they’re between 21 and 16? Claudia died so soon after she was taken?” Maria took a breath and answered her own question, twisting her simple wedding ring around on her finger. “You think they’re test-tube babies.”

                “It’s the only thing that makes sense, and while its most likely that he would’ve ‘made’ them sooner rather than later, he might’ve waited awhile. We’re giving ourselves as wide a range as we can for the search.” Emily took a steadying breath. “Given this information, we started looking into fertility doctors and now people who work with them and in connected industries.”

                JJ took the opportunity to pour everyone a big glass of water and pass them out. “I’m sure you answered a lot of questions when Claudia first went missing, but did your daughter ever talk about medical appointments or participate in studies?”

                “No nothing,” Bruce answered, his Boston accent getting thicker, “there was nothing suspicious before she vanished. Everything was fine, and then she was gone.”

                Emily glanced up through the door’s window and caught Hotch’s eye. “Ok. Thank you. If you’ll excuse me?” She left the Sullivans to JJ and headed out into the busy bullpen. “Hotch?”

                He ground his jaw and led her to a quiet corner. “We have nothing.”

                “Nothing, what do you mean?”

                “I mean we have nothing, aside from what was gleaned from the van we have nothing more than what was in the original missing persons and murder cases. There are no new leads, Penelope’s searches have yielded no results.” The stoic man huffed a bit. “We need to shake things up. Elicit a reaction. We need a press conference.”

__________________________________________________________________________________

                Loud technobeats thumped through Donatello’s lab, though not at full volume out of consideration for the slider slumped in a bean bag on the floor. As Leo worked through his newest medical textbook, taking copious notes as he went, Donnie delicately laboured over the long process of building Shelldon’s new body.

                The young genius was so grateful that he was also incredibly paranoid; daily uploading a backup of Shelldon to his remote servers just in case. But while Donnie could be prideful, he made a point of learning from any mistakes he DID make and had spent what little spare time he had the last two years meticulously designing a new, far more robust, body for his little AI. Finally in the manufacturing phase, an intricate drone was taking shape under his careful hands.

                Any observer could be forgiven for thinking that the twins were simply sharing space while working on their separate tasks. They’d be wrong though. The boys were practicing.

                With Don finally accepting their true nature, barriers had fallen and the twins were growing towards each other, like trees planted close. Right now they were bouncing emotions back and forth, an invisible game bringing soft smiles to both their faces as warmth and joy reflected between them.

Leo marvelled a little, pausing in his reading; he knew Donnie felt more than he was able to accurately display, but the depth of emotion that his brother had roiling under the surface was startling. I should’ve known better. He FEELS just fine, it’s processing emotions that he has trouble with, Leo mused; skipping the chapter on diseases of the reproductive system for now, not in the mood to be grossed out. It’s only fun if I’m sitting next to Raph anyway. Tilting the book just so and freaking out his older brother with pictures of diseased body parts was endlessly entertaining.

                That thought must have leaked through because Don snorted into his circuit board while the mental equivalent of an uproarious belly-laugh rolled over Leo’s mindscape. The medic huffed a bit in amusement then continued reading, enjoying easy camaraderie with his twin. “Was it just that I thought something was funny or did you actually hear what I was thinking?”

                The engineer paused a moment, just realizing what he’d done. “I … heard you. I think?” Donatello turned wide eyes to his brother.

                Leo’s grin grew across his face. “So cool! What about this?” Donatello’s a drama queen.

                The softshell frowned for a moment, then, “I think you’ve got that backwards Nardo.”

                “Yes!” Both of Leonardo’s fists shot triumphantly into the air. “Twin telepathy for the win!”

                Don rolled his eyesand went back to work.

                We already had the mind meld. The slider froze. That, that was a thought but it had a distinctly Donnie … taste, feel? Whatever, it was Donnie. For the first time, Leo had picked up a full thought from his twin. It’s not the same though, he replied, we can only do that with Raph; and he basically has to yell it at us. This is just… like overhearing someone talking to themselves next to you.

                A sense of agreement wafted over from his brother, followed by nervousness as Don bounced one of his legs. Donnie?

                Are we going to overhear everything each other thinks now?

                A chill washed over Leon. Oh boy I hope not. People don’t share every stray thought for a reason. Next time, we practice blocking each other out.

                Agreed.

                …. In the meantime, do you know who took my Scarlet Wonder #6? I’m sure I had it in my “Do Not Touch I’m Not Done With This” drawer.

                Uhhh…..

                Their brewing squabble was interrupted by Don’s com ringing. “You are conversing with Donatello,” the softshell answered while studiously avoiding his twin’s evil eye and was promptly blasted by April’s voice bellowing out of his headphones. “Donnie! You gotta watch the link I sent you! Right! Now!”

                A few minutes later April had been routed through the main speakers, Don was pulling up the link she’d sent him and the rest of their family were barrelling through into his lab.

                “In class today the teacher decided to have us watch an FBI press conference that was held here in New York,” she was explaining, “Prof wanted us to get used to taking notes, making up questions on the fly, that sorta stuff.” There was a clang in the background along with a male “Hey!” as she sprinted through campus. “After a bit I realized what they were talking about …” the young woman trailed off as she recognized the playback starting on Donatello’s end.

                Turtles and rat gathered around the primary monitor where a blonde woman stood behind a podium. “Good afternoon. I’m FBI Agent Jennifer Jareau and we’ve called this press conference today in the hopes that the public will be able to help us solve a series of murders, and find some potentially vulnerable victims.”

                The agent gestured to the screen next to her where a timeline appeared, filling in as she spoke. “In the late 90’s, eight homeless people were found dead in New York city. They had all been murdered, parts of their bodies ‘sampled’, for lack of a better term, and then they were dumped. They were all linked by the presence of a yet to be identified liquid. This past November, the body of a young woman was left outside the 20th precinct, also with traces of the same liquid. Her name was Claudia Sullivan. She was abducted March of 2000.” Their mother’s smiling picture flashed up on the screen.

                Leon settled a trembling hand on Don’s shoulder, a wave of acceptance and anxiety flowing back.

                “From evidence gathered at the scene, we’ve been able to determine that she was used to produce two children. Twin sons, who’s DNA is also linked to another missing person’s case, that of Yoshi Hamato, better known by his screen name of Lou Jitsu, who went missing in 1999. His body has not been found and until it is, he is still considered a missing person.”

                That very man gasped as his former face was displayed. Michelangelo grabbed their Dad in a side hug, briskly rubbing up and down his furry arm.

                “We believe that these people were victims of the same serial killer. Mission oriented, the creation of these two boys were his ultimate goal; homeless people being used as practice for his real targets, Miss Sullivan and Mr Hamato, so that he could use their genetic material.”

                Raphael’s great bulk hovered over his family, trying to reassure them that he was there for them; that they had his protection.

                “We believe we are looking for a male, 40 – 60 years old, of Caucasian or East Asian descent, likely in an interracial relationship with someone of the other race. He probably works in the medical field, specializing in treating infertility. We believe he and his spouse have raised these boys as their own. Given the timing of the boys delivering their biological mother to the police, we think that our suspect was killed or seriously wounded in the alien attack.”

                Don’s right hand snaked up, to twine with that of his brother.

                “The twins are of mixed race, Caucasian and East Asian, between the ages of 16 and 21. They also have a very distinct birth defect of their hands.” Agent Jareau fixed her gaze on the camera. “Someone out there knows these people. Someone knows this couple, knows these boys. You can help give the victims back their voices and connect these young men with their biological families.” A phone number and web address began scrolling across the bottom of the screen. “Please, contact the FBI by the means listed below to share any information you may have. Now,” she glanced off to the side, “the parents of Claudia Sullivan are here and would like to say a few words.”

                Nonononononononononono. Leo’s mind devolved into rushing blur as his shaking legs finally gave out. He sunk to his knees next to Donatello’s chair, incredibly grateful the young genius maintained an iron grip.

                An older couple took the agent’s position, blinking rapidly as the many cameras present flashed in front of them. Our grandparents.. Don’s reverent thought wafted over.

                “Hello,” the man began, “I’m Bruce Sullivan, and this is my wife, Maria,” he said, while rubbing the stately woman’s back. “We’d like to thank all the members of law enforcement and people in the community that have tried to help us find Claudia. It meant the world to our family.” He took a deep breath, “But most of all we want to say… to our grandsons,” the grey headed man lost his composure, looking down to rub his eyes. Maria took over. “We want to say thank you. Thank you so much for giving her back to us, we weren’t sure that we would ever know what happened to her. And.. please know, we’d love to meet you. No matter how you came into this world,” she blinked back tears, “you ARE our grandsons, and if you ever decide you want it, there’s a place for you with us. But if you could,” her jaw trembled as she fought with her emotions, “if there’s a way, could you let us know that you’re safe?”

                The press conference then descended into semi-orderly chaos with journalists jockeying for their questions to be answered. But the answers they wanted weren’t there.

                The twins were discovering the downside of their newly open link. Mutual panic and confusion reverberated between them, building in intensity with each passing moment. Don honestly couldn’t even tell what was coming from whom anymore. He latched onto Nardo with all he had while falling into the maelstrom.

                Longing/fear/disgust/hope/anger/why?/It was over/fear/pain/want/maybe?

                Guys!

                Raph?!

                Guys! We’re here! You need to calm down.

                Their big brother’s mental call cut through the confusion. Slowly Donatello became aware of massive arms tightly wrapped around him. A thunderous heartbeat next to his head. Leon’s hands woven with his own in a death grip. Oh. Raphael had gathered the panicking twins up into his expansive grasp. Tucked together, legs entwined, their heaving plastrons gradually slowed, calming down from the tandem panic attack.

                Donatello closed his eyes and focused on riding out the lingering symptoms. We definitely need to practice blocking each other out.

                “Sorry.” The soft whisper forced Don to look outward again. Leon’s dark gaze was full of naked pain and remorse. “S’okay.” Donnie murmured back, worried about the deep pit of fear and despair he saw behind his twin.

                Raph rumbled deep in his chest. “You’re both ok. Just rest, Raph’s gotcha. We’ll take care of everything else later.” Between panic induced exhaustion, and the comfort they’d fallen asleep to so often growing up, both drifted away.

                Eventually, Don blinked back awake, Leo still right in front of him. At first, he only registered the slider’s slack, tired face then shifted back a bit when he noticed the bright cheery visage of a teddy bear popping right over Leonardo’s striped shoulder. Raph’s room. Glancing around, it looked like the snapper had tucked them both into his own bed, then constructed a fluffy, squishy nest of plush critters all around them. Actually, he could feel glass orb eyes pressing uncomfortably into his shell. Reaching around, Don found the offending koala, glared into its cold, dead marbles and chucked the effigy of adorable evil across the room.

                Carefully extracting himself from his sleeping twin’s grasp, Donatello slowly sat up and shifted away to sit cross-legged against the wall. Alright, break it down. One, their original plan had achieved its goal. Two, they had apparently left enough evidence behind that the police had discovered their existence and connection to both of their human parents. Three, their maternal grandparents were now aware of them and were seeking contact. Four, the FBI was involved and would be watching any contact with said grandparents like a proverbial hawk. Five, the thought of making contact with their grandparents absolutely terrified Leonardo.

                That’s the one he got stuck on. Some trepidation would be understandable, but what he’d felt from his brother was a soul deep dread that even now caused a pit to open in Don’s own stomach. Why was the prospect of contact with these people so frightening? Donatello himself was nervous about it. Afterall, they didn’t know their grandsons were mutants, and while mutants were now publicly known, and had found some acceptance; there was no way to know how they would react to finding out their murdered daughter’s forcefully produced children were a couple giant reptiles. Leonardo’s fear though was much more profound than Don thought it should be for the given circumstances.

                The softshell found himself at a loss, watching his sleeping younger twin. As they’d gotten older, the rest of the clan had eventually figured out that much of Leo’s behaviour was in fact motivated by insecurity. After the Krang it had morphed into outright self-loathing. Holding himself responsible not only for that which had nearly been, but the many deaths that had occurred, it’d taken everything the family had to convince him that he was merely the butterfly that flapped its wings and eventually started a windstorm. Even if they had gotten the key that night, they would’ve just returned it to the museum, the Foot would’ve stolen it again and everything would’ve gone down the same way. They knew though, that Leo’s self-destructive brain refused to completely let go of the juicy bone it’d found to gnaw on.

                Perhaps it had dug up another in their origins, and the what ifs surrounding their maternal relatives? That was all Donnie could come up with to explain this. He leaned forward, steepling his hands. Both of us have malfunctioning brains, not surprising as they were the same brain once. Mine refuses to process sensory input and emotional output correctly. His seeks potential threats to his family so as to strategize around them but identifies ITSELF as a potential threat and therefore seeks to eliminate itself. Perhaps it is time to ask Papa to find a therapist for Nardo as well. Was this the trade-off for their own respective forms of genius? Rewiring to allow them to think beyond the means of most people resulted in poor performance in other areas?

                Perhaps we can balance each other out?  The entire family helped Donatello accommodate and work around his limitations, Leo and April often taking the lead with Michelangelo occasionally beating him over the head with heavier lessons when called for. Cold logic had given Leon’s strategic mind ammunition to fight it’s own irrational conclusions before, maybe Donnie could help provide that again? In the dark, watching over his brother, Donatello began to scheme.

                With a deep breath, Leo opened his eyes.  Directly across from him was his twin sitting like a glowering king among Raphael’s many, many plushies. “Y’know, I could totally see you winning the game of thrones, but I don’t think you’d accept anything less than a titanium one.”

                “Huh? Wha?” Donnie was knocked out of his train of thought. “Oh, you’re awake.”

                “Excellent observation Dontron.” Leon huffed as he heaved himself upright then sighed. “Sorry for … y’know, earlier. Didn’t mean to drag you down with me.”

                “Nardo…”

                They were interrupted by the subway car door being slid open. “I thought I heard you guys.” Raph’s soft grin greeted them as the eldest walked in. “Good to see you up. Feeling better?” he asked, running his eyes over Don while cupping the back of Leo’s head to check the slider’s temperature with a giant thumb. “Yeah big bro, I think we’re good.” Leonardo answered, not wanting to cause any further worry. “You sure? That was a pretty strong reaction out there.” Well so much for that.

                With Donatello’s disapproval weighing heavily behind him, Leo tried one more time. “You’re right, I shouldn’t speak for Donnie, but I’m good hermano. Really!”

                “Uh huh…” Raphael’s flat response clearly showed he wasn’t buying it.

                The slider shrunk down into his shell a bit, not wanting to face the reality of his earlier emotional implosion. “Look, I just thought this whole thing was done and over with, then BAM! FBI press conference! It was a bit of a kick in the teeth.” He squirmed under the combined weight of his older brothers’ stares. “It’s not like we can contact them anyway, what with this whole situation.” Leo waved a hand up and down himself.

                “Well…..” Donatello interjected, “they don’t HAVE to see us.”

                He knew he didn’t have reason, but Leo suddenly felt so betrayed. “Um. What?”

                “Yeah, whaddayah mean Donnie?” Raph asked, eyes narrowed in confusion.

                “We could call them. I can run our connection through encrypted servers all over the planet so the FBI can’t trace it and they won’t be able to see us.” The softshell answered, already on his wristcomp. “We can give them the reassurance they want and keep our true nature secret.”

                Don was pointedly avoiding his twin’s eyes, focusing now on Raphael. What are you up to ‘Tello? His brother flicked a glance Leo’s way then back to their elder, a sense of nervousness, want and determination wafting over. You WANT to meet them?

                “That’s not a bad idea Donnie.” Leon’s attention was drawn back to the giant snapper. “They seemed really worried about you guys. Seems like they think you’re in the hands of a serial killer or something so if we can let them know you’re ok….”

                Everything faded out a bit after that. We’re really gonna do this? We’re going to risk contacting them… even with the FBI hovering over them. Their daughter was MURDERED to make us …

                But they already know that and said they want us.

                But they don’t know we’re mutants.

                Some people are ok with mutants.

                They probably arent’.

                But the FBI won’t just walk away.

                “Nardo.”

                It’s not worth the risk.

                “Leon.”

                What if they find out YOU caused the invasion?

                “Leonardo!”

                Donatello grabbing Leo by his shoulders and shaking finally knocked the slider out of his spiralling thoughts. “Huh? Wha?”

                “Nardo, are you ok?” The naked concern on Donnie’s face and in his mind was another splash of cold water. Suddenly Leo was aware of EVERYTHING. Raph was gone. His legs were tangled in blankets and plushies. His muscles were trembling. Why am I shaking? “Uh, yeah. I’m ok.”

                The softshell’s face instantly dropped. “Riiiiight. Because people are ok when they’re having a panic attack.”

                Nope nope nope. “I wasn’t having a panic attack.” Leo rebutted, trying to get his legs free. Stupid plushie snakes.

                “Sigh. Rapid breathing, sweating, clearly trapped in your own thoughts. You didn’t even notice Raph leaving. Am I missing something?” Dammit, why are you so observant when I don’t want you to be. “Look, is it really that weird that I’m nervous about contact with the Sullivaaaans?!” Leo was free of the blankets; he was also now face first on the floor.

                “It’s weird that you’re THIS nervous. Why are you so afraid of them?” He cocked his head to the side like a confused dog.

                “Really Donnie?” Frustrated, the young leader sprung up from the floor, rubbing his side a little as he finally got to his feet. “You really can’t see why I don’t want to get any more tangled up in this than we already are?” Arms flung into the air, Leon began to pace, giving his twin both barrels. “Ok MAYBE they’ll be ok with how we got here, they’ve had time to think about that. But if we get wrapped up with them? We won’t be able to hide being mutants forever. We won’t be able to avoid the freaking FBI forever! They’ll find out that Pops is alive, about Draxum, that we were getting CLOSE TO THEIR DAUGHTER’S KILLER!”

                “What’s goin’ on in here?” Both middle brothers stopped dead as Mikey poked his head in the train car. “Are you guys fighting?”

                “Yes.”

                “Yes!”

                The twins glared at each other. Well, at least we agree on something.

                “Ohhhhhkkaaay.” The youngest swiftly took control of the situation. Plunking down on the bed where he was essentially between his brothers, he crossed his legs and folded his hands over a knee. “What’s the issue gentlemen?”

                Hoo boy. “Mikey we can sort this out ourselves.”

                Their miniature juggernaut fixed Leo with a glare. “I SAID, what’s the issue gentlemen?”

                Right. “Don wants to contact our Mother’s parents. I don’t.” Leo leaned against the car wall, crossing his arms defiantly.

                “Hmmm. Right, right, and why are you so opposed to that?” Their baby brother was still prim with his annoyance.

                For real?! “Uh… why wouldn’t I be?” He couldn’t believe that any of them were seriously considering this. “Do I need to list the many and sundry reasons why this is a TERRIBLE idea? Again?!”

                Annoyingly, his brother’s shared a knowing look. What the actual? In what universe would Donnie be on the same wavelength as Mikey in an emotional conversation?

                “Really guys?”

                “Leo,” Donnie started lowly, “we can do this safely. Initiate contact with an untraceable audio call and progress according to results.” A soft, tentative longing tickled along the edge of Leon’s mind. Damn your craving for parental approval.

Mikey’s eyes were getting bigger and wetter every second, putting Todd’s puppies to shame. “You won’t know how they feel unless you talk to them Leo.”

Never let it be said that Leonardo Hamato didn’t know when he was beat. Heaving a breath behind gritted teeth, the slider closed his eyes, reasserted his self-control and said, “Fine. But we take every precaution to make sure they can’t find us.”

“Alright!” Mikey clapped, jumped up and glomped onto the striped turtle. “I’ll go tell the others!” Then he bolted out of the room.

Leo rubbed his side absently, carefully ignoring Donnie’s stare.

“It’s not just my desire for adult approval and affection at play.” Well, so much for that.

“They’ve spent decades wondering what happened to their daughter, should they spend the rest of their lives wondering what happened to us?” Shocked, Leonardo snapped around to lock eyes with the softshell. Donnie raised an eyebrow. “What? Even I can see what that would do to someone.”

Doing his best to bring this back around to a logical argument, Boy have we flipped the switch, “And that’s worth risking discovery by the FBI?”

“Psshhh,” Don waved a negligent hand, “FBI, FBsmhI. I can run rings around them. Besides,” he gave the slider a bit of a side-eye, “we’ve risked more for less haven’t we?”

“Hmph.” Leo ran a finger along one of the scars on his arm. “Yeah, and how’d that work out for us?”

The engineer got up and murmured as he walked by, “Two attempts to end the world, and we’re all still here? Works for me.”

“Agent Jareau?” JJ turned from her phone, where she’d been checking up with Will in a quiet corner. “Yes?”

“I think we’ve got something here.” An older female officer handed over a hastily scribbled transcript. “They’re typing it up for the file, but I thought you’d want this right away.”

“Thank you.” The blonde nodded in dismissal and started reading.

Officer: Hello, Sullivan Case tipline.

Caller: Yes, you’re looking for her sons?

Officer: Yes Sir. Do you have any information about them?

Caller: Yeah. I’m one of them.

Officer: I see. If I may Sir, we’ve had more than a few people call in making the same claim; would you mind answering a question in order to confirm your identity?

Caller: Sure?

Officer: On the inside of the coffin lid, there was an inscription. What did it say?

Caller: “You deserved better. Rest in peace.”

JJ kept skimming, looking over where an officer had arranged a call back time when Claudia’s parents would be available. Speed walking while she read the officer’s observations, JJ burst into the boardroom. All the BAU looked up at her entrance and she announced, “They made contact.”

Three hours later, the Sullivans were sitting at the end of a dinged boardroom table, making small talk, trying to avoid fixating on landline phone laying between them. JJ handed each a cup of coffee, getting soft thank you’s in return when a shrill ring forced everyone to try not to spill their drinks. Glancing over at the on-screen Penelope, JJ gestured to pick up once the tech nodded her permission.

On speaker, with everyone else remaining as silent as possible, Bruce shakily connected the call. “Hello?”

There was a brief pause, then a cautious young voice, “Is this Mr Sullivan?”

“Yes. And my wife Maria is right here with me. Are… are you one of our grandsons?”

There was an audible breath on the other end. “Yes. I am. We’re both here actually.”

Silence as everyone tried to think of something to say, then another young male voice. “Well… this is awkward.”

“Leo!” A smack followed by a nervous giggle broke the ice a little.

FBI agents shared glances and smirks, reassured by the normal sibling behaviour on display.

Bruce and Maria huffed softly; she piped up. “So, one of you is named Leo then?”

An exaggerated throat clearing signalled the boys getting themselves back under control. “Yes ma’am,” the first voice came back in. “I am Donatello, my brother here is Leonardo, though we usually go by the diminutives ‘Donnie’ or ‘Don’ and ‘Leo’ or ‘Leon’.”

“Donnie and Leo.” The couple grabbed each other’s hands while Bruce continued. “It’s very good to hear from you. Before we go any further, are you two safe?”

Leo quickly answered. “Yes. We’re safe, you don’t have to worry.”

That dramatically cut the overall tension in the room. No longer having to be concerned about the boys’ wellbeing, at least for now. Their focus shifted.

“Glad to hear it; we were worried. Now that we have you on the phone, we’d like to thank you personally. Thank you for sending Claudia home to us… you have no idea what a difference you’ve made already.” Their grandfather said, running a shaky hand through his greyed hair.

Donnie cut in this time. “You’re welcome. We… wanted to do what we could, what little it was.” JJ felt her eyes prick a bit at the young man’s quietly solemn voice. She glanced over to see Penelope still frantically working, and clearly getting increasingly frustrated.

The Sullivans were talking again. “You should know, we buried her in the coffin you made.”

That had been interesting. Hotch’d hesitated to grant the request, but once they found out their grandsons made it, the couple were determined to bury their daughter in her bespoke coffin. After making sure all possible evidence was collected, the section chief had gone to bat for them, handing Claudia’s body over in the wooden chest.

“You did?” Leo’s voice was small and tinged with wonder.

“Yes dear,” Maria answered this time, “knowing that you two made it for her, we had to. Thank you for that by the way, it was beautiful.” She squeezed her honey eyes shut, likely remembering the funeral just a few days past. “You did an excellent job making it.”

“You’re welcome.” Leo’s reply was husky. “We just, wanted to give her back with dignity, y’know?”

Bruce smirked. “Misson accomplished son. You two work with your hands? ‘Cause I don’t think just anyone could do what you did there.”

“I built it,” Donnie interjected, pride evident, “Leo decorated it.”

“We did both together, Dontron.”

 Don kept speaking over Leo. “I usually engage in metal working, but it wasn’t too difficult to adapt my equipment for wood.”

The eager grandparents pounced. “Metal working? You work in a metal shop?”

The young man was clearly warming to their curiosity. “Work, as in employment? No. I have my own personal workshop where I manufacture my many wonderfully designed devices; and repair everything the family breaks, repeatedly. Yes, I’m looking at you Nardo, I know what happened to the DVD player.”

People were starting to stifle chuckles around the room.

“Sounds like you have an interest in engineering.” Maria observed, relaxing enough to finally take a sip from her coffee. “Oh ho ho ho ho, interest is not the word Madam.” Donatello’s youthful boasting continued. “I have designed and built vehicles, machines, drones and I am currently constructing a new body for my custom coded AI.”

Penelope suddenly lunged forward on her screen, a sort of “aha!” look on her face. Waving off questioning glances, the bubbly blonde kept working.

“That’s very impressive,” Bruce commented, “how old are you two?” Obviously wondering when his grandson’d had time to accomplish so much.

“We’re eighteen.” Leo informed them. Spencer leaned forward, eyes flicking back and forth as he processed the conversation, filing information away for later.

“Just getting started out then. Are you two thinking of going to college?” Maria asked, “If you’re considering Columbia I could pull some strings.”

There was some whispering on the line then, “Our current plans to do not include college, but thank you Ma’am. Did you go to Columbia University?” Donatello’s slightly deeper voice came back.

Their grandmother frowned a little at the failed connection. “I did. All of our children did too. What about you Leo? What are your interests?”

“Uh.” Leo started, clearly caught off, “Oh you know, comic books, tv, the usual teenage stuff.”

“Medicine.” His twin interjected. The sounds of a slight scuffle could be heard.

“Medicine?” Bruce perked up. “You looking for a job in the medical field son?”

But the young man prevaricated. “I mean, I just sorta take care of the family. Going to the doctor isn’t always an option y’know?” A few people were exchanging looks and frowning. Weren’t they raised by someone in medicine?

The Sullivans were looking concerned again. “Do you boys not have health insurance? If you need help we’re more than willing.”

There were some low murmurs, then, “Just a second,” and the twins muted their end.

The BAU took the pause to quietly confer. “Garcia, have you traced their connection?” Hotch began.

Speakers turned down because she was clearly NOT HAPPY, Penelope ranted. “No! I have bounced all over the planet about five times tracing them. It keeps somehow rerouting while still maintaining the previous connection, then dropping when ready. I don’t think I can trace them Sir. But,” she cocks her head, sharing her view with the team, “I did find something. You remember how hackers always have a sort of signature on their work? They prefer to use certain code? I recognize this. He’s a pretty well-known guy in certain circles.” The bubbly blonde shook her head.  “I’ll do up a full report for you later.” She muted again, turning back to her own efforts.

“Even if,” Derek began, “the unsub lost their job, they would still be able to treat their family members to an extent themselves, right? So why is Leo picking up the slack?”

“They’re afraid of something.” Rossi theorized. “They could just be stubbornly self-sufficient, but to outright refuse a normal offer from family to help with education and medical care? They’re keeping themselves in a bubble.”

Emily waved them silent again from where she was watching the Sullivans with an eagle eye. The boys were back.

Leo hesitantly spoke. “We… need to explain some things.” He paused, trying to figure out what to say. “We weren’t raised by the guy that made us.” The concerned grandparents shared looks and Bruce sat a little straighter at the mention of their daughter’s killer. “Before you ask, he’s dead. Killed in the invasion. The only name we had for him was Barry Draxum, but I don’t think you’ll find that in any records. We only met him a few years ago and didn’t know about the murders until after he was dead.”

JJ quickly typed the info to send to Garcia for later investigation. Leo kept speaking.

“We knew he was… sketchy, but we didn’t know how far he’d actually gone until we found out about our mother. We know you probably think we were raised by him, but we weren’t.” When the young man paused again, his brother jumped in. “We were raised by Yoshi Hamato.”

                Emily stared into the middle distance, sipping at her whiskey. JJ was already asleep in their shared hotel room, so Prentiss had retreated to the hotel bar for a quiet nightcap to think over the incredibly awkward call with Claudia Sullivan’s errant sons. Everything had sort of fallen apart after they dropped the bombshell about their father.

                Yoshi Hamato was alive and had been raising his sons off grid to protect them from the people that abducted him; AND there were two more boys, mother(s) unknown. She shook her head a bit and picked at her order of fries. To raise four boys, by himself, all but on the streets in New York City while being hunted? There was more to the old B-list celebrity than she’d thought.

                There was also the matter that there was still a threat to their lives. A threat serious enough that they didn’t think the FBI could protect them. “Please, they’re not even on your radar,” had been Leo’s response to the offer of government intervention; “If you don’t even know they exist, how’re you gonna help?”

                It’d taken some outright begging from the Sullivans to even keep the boys talking once the agents had started speaking. “We knew you’d be listening, but we’re here for our grandparents. Not you.” Donatello had been even more dismissive than his brother.

                To keep them from hanging up, all law enforcement had left the room, though the twins had to know they were being recorded. Reviewing the call later, the BAU had been frustrated at a lack of any real answers and rapidly multiplying questions. Garcia at least had SOME information.

                “Othello Von Ryan. That’s his hacker handle. Man is LEGENDARY in the dark web. Young; only popped up a few years ago, but he runs circles around everyone, and I mean EVERYONE.” She paused for breath, bringing up an FBI dossier.  “His digital fingerprints are all over the place, he’s taken credit for several major database hacks, mostly large banks and stockbrokers, though he’s done a little hacktivist work too.”

                “So not the sort of person they could hire to do this for them.” Aaron had speculated, reading over the file Penelope sent him.

                She’d shaken her head, blonde curls bouncing. “Nope, normies wouldn’t even know he exists.”

                Emily took another sip, savouring the burn. Hotch had then speculated that Von Ryan must be personally connected to the Hamatos, “Maybe even one of them.” She wiped the grease from her fries off on a napkin. Could be Donatello. He was absolutely certain that we couldn’t do anything.

                She smirked as she remembered the beleaguered detective that’d interrupted them, hauling in a banker’s box containing the evidence and physical record of Yoshi Hamato’s missing person case. The woman must have been newly promoted or transferred if they were making her schlep for the feebs. Delicate features had crinkled when Spencer dived face first into the files and evidence bags contained. Morgan had taken pity on her and waved the blonde off from Reid’s intellectual feeding frenzy.

                Their resident info gremlin quickly narrowed down one possibility for the Hamato’s mysterious threat. “Agatha Kumo. British/Japanese national. She was Yoshi Hamato’s girlfriend at the time of his disappearance.” Emily had marvelled again at the speed he could tear through hard copy records. “There was some suspicion of her, a lot of people said that she was two-faced. Really sweet with Yoshi, but nasty and entitled when he wasn’t around. Ultimately there was no evidence, so the police moved on. She’s a major real estate developer and hotelier now. Owns a large hotel in downtown New York.”

                “Lots of dangerous folks connected to New York real estate.” Morgan had mused.

                “Lots more connected to dangerous families too.” Rossi’d drawled while typing on his phone, probably requesting any information the FBI had on Ms Kumo.

                Emily and Rossi had decided to go pay Yoshi’s former flame a visit the next day; see if they could get a bead on her possible involvement.

                Swallowing the last of her drink, the brunette left enough money under her empty glass and started heading back to the room. It’s already been in the news that Yoshi Hamato is connected to the Sullivan abduction, so she has to know eyes are on his case again. We can keep her from learning that he’s still alive though; need to really if she was involved.

                Carefully opening the door to her and JJ’s room, Prentiss slowly got ready for bed, doing her best to not wake her sleeping roommate. Hopefully the Sullivan’s can build more trust the next time they talk to the boys. If it’s as bad as they say, Yoshi’s abductor/s have been deeply entrenched for a long time and the sooner we get a handle on this, the better.

                Mikey lost the fight to focus. He’d been trying to watch a video about a new painting technique he wanted to try, but family issues kept pushing to the forefront. A couple hours earlier Leo had burst from Donnie’s lab, clearly agitated and stormed into his med bay. Prying … talking to Donnie had revealed that they’d disclosed more information than Leo’d been comfortable with. Not that he’d been comfortable with any of this anyway.

                Any attempt to try and help Leo had been quickly blocked by the slider calling his … apprentice? Son? Whatever, in for Casey’s weekly checkup. Leon had been aghast at the teen’s general condition once the slider had been back on his feet and made it his mission in life to get Junior into tip top modern-day condition.

                Leo’s turmoil over contacting the Sullivans confused Michelangelo. Sure, he got not wanting to draw the FBI’s attention, but Donnie was all over that.

Honestly, post invasion New York was as close to ideal for mutants to step into the public eye. The turtles hadn’t been the only ones fighting to protect people from the Krang zombies. Videos of mutants defending humans had run wild across the internet and now there were rumblings of a mutant rights movement taking shape. There were some people opposed to it, because of course there were, but public sentiment had never been better. So, while it would be understandable for Leo to be nervous of the Sullivans learning the truth about their grandsons, Mikey didn’t think it would upset him this much. Donnie certainly wasn’t that bothered about it, and arguably, he was more invested in gaining adult family members.

                Could that be it? Leo’d always resisted considering Draxum family or extending an olive branch to Big Mama. Though, they’d threatened Leo’s family at one point so… But so did Casey Senior, and he likes her ok. He’s always after April to introduce us to her parents too. The boxshell groaned, falling back into his hammock, hands over his eyes. The other two are so straightforward, why does Leo have to be one of those Russian doll things? Michelangelo sighed, rolling to dangle above his painted floor. And nailing him down for a convo is like grabbing a fish.

                This whole situation with Draxum had probably reinforced Leo’s trust issues all over again. Tracing a finger along a green line on the bricks, Angelo couldn’t help but think, how could you Barry? How could you do that to someone? He knew really, he got it. Draxum had hated humans, whether that hatred was justified or not could be debated. Afterall, the Krang were gonna kill everyone, and I hate them. But all krang wanted to do it, not all humans want to kill non-humans. April being the prime shining example that made a blanket hatred of her species impossible for the turtles, even before they found out their father had been one too.

                Planting his hand more firmly on the floor, Mikey set up a rocking motion, back and forth, letting it soothe him. The spotted turtle knew he’d have to have his own personal reckoning with their maker’s actions, having put it off far too long, but he was more concerned with his brothers right now.

It all keeps coming back to fear with Leo, doesn’t it? Fear of rejection. Fear of not being good enough. Fear of getting hurt. So … how can we help him be less afraid? The obvious was pointing out reasons why he shouldn’t be afraid, but rational arguments don’t work on irrational fears. Doesn’t help that his fears aren’t entirely irrational either. Fact of the matter was, it could all go fine, or it could blow up in their faces. Probably gonna be somewhere in the middle.

“Turtles! I have returned! Where is my son?!”

Startled, Mikey flinched all the way back into his shell, upsetting the hammock and plummeting to his floor. Casey Sr was back.

                Across town, another family was in turmoil.

                “How can you even be sure its them?”

                Bruce sighed then answered his youngest son. “They knew what was written inside the coffin lid. That was deliberately held back just for something like this.”

                Jake huffed, clearly unhappy with his father’s reply. The young, brown haired man stopped pacing, running both hands down his face. “They’re really her kids?” He asked, eyes locked onto his solemn parents sitting on their couch.

                Maria smiled softly. “They’re really her kids.”

                “They’re my nephews?” She reached up to pull him down to sit next to them. “They are.”

                A snort from the other blue couch interrupted her. Their remaining two children, Sofia and Mark, were having even more trouble with this. Blinking back tears, Sofia rebutted, “Claudia had NO say in making those kids. We have no idea how she’d feel about it; if she’d claim them…” the dark blonde took a deep breath, then leaned forward. “Look, it’s not their fault, I don’t blame them. But the fact is we don’t know them, what sort of people they are, and we can finally put all of this behind us. I’m not comfortable with drawing this out for ALL of us over strangers when we can all just go live our lives like they were before. No harm, no foul.” Sofia finished hands spread beseechingly.

Maria started to talk, then closed her trembling mouth before trying and failing again. Bruce stepped in, taking his wife’s hand. “Sweetie, however they got here, they ARE our grandchildren, that’s just a fact of biology. We have no reason to reject them.”

Fighting her own tears, his daughter stared into her father’s eyes. “Blood doesn’t entitle them to a place in our family.”

Maria finally found her voice, “No. But it does entitle them to a chance. Is it really so bad to give them one?”

“Is it really so bad that I don’t want living reminders around of my sister being murdered?!” Sofia shouted, getting to her feet, “That psycho practically ra….” She trailed off, shook her head and stormed out the front door into the night.

Maria shuddered a bit at being confronted with something she’d been resolutely ignoring, not wanting to add to the mental horror of her daughter being murdered. Bruce scooted a little closer and wrapped and arm around her. “Give her time. It’s still fresh.”

The red head nodded, leaning in for comfort. Looking up, she focused on her eldest living child. “Mark?”

“I… I don’t know Mom.” He was hugging himself, staring at his feet. “I… get what you’re saying, but I see what’s Sof is saying too. I just… don’t know. I think I need some time too.”

She couldn’t leave him feeling like this. “Of course, Honey. It’s a lot to take in. Your Dad and I’ve got this. We’ll handle the boys, the rest of you take your time working through it, there’s no rush.” He nodded, got up, hugged his parents and brother then headed out.

Jake leaned back into the couch cushions. “He’ll probably come around after he talks to Brooke and his therapist.” He chuckled to himself a little, “Mine’s gonna be getting an earful later.”

“It’s a good investment.” Bruce murmured, recalling all the money they’d spent on therapists for their family over the years.

Maria echoed their daughter’s snort. “We’ve probably put a whole class of their kids through school at this point.”

Bruce huffed a bit and rubbed her back. “All we can do is take it one step at a time, for everyone. Deal with stuff as it comes up and do our best. Hopefully, we can all get through it together.”

                Eleven A.M. sharp the following morning, Prentiss and Rossi strode into the Grand Nexus Hotel’s front lobby, glad to get out of the snow. It was the earliest appointment they could get with Ms Kumo; she’d likely been working late the night before on something or other, but the hotelier had made room for them the very next day once Lou Jitsu was mentioned.

                They must’ve been pegged by staff as soon as they walked in, being intercepted by a wirey, red headed gentleman in an old-fashioned uniform half-way to the reception desk. “The FBI agents I presume?” Rough voice at odds with his formal tone.

                “That’s us.” David answered, going for a handshake. A look of distaste rippled across the man’s face and was rapidly smothered. Swiftly shaking hands with each, he quickly ushered them into an elevator and escorted the pair to his employer’s office on the top floor. “Ms Kumo will see you immediately.” He said before walking off, wiping his hand against his uniform.

                “Germaphobe?” Emily asked her companion through an uncomfortable smile.

                “Something.” He replied, knocking lightly on the door before pushing it open. Spotting a woman at the other end of the room large, gaudily appointed room he called, “Ms Kumo? We’re Agents Prentiss and Rossi. You were expecting us?”

                The woman in question sat up taller smiling slightly and waving the agents in. “Ah yes, come in, come in. Please have a seat.” She stood and bowed ever so slightly, hands together.

Agatha Kumo painted an odd picture; a bizarre mixture of businesswoman and rich heiress with a touch of spooky. Silver hair stood out against her purple power suit lined with thick, white fur, and her perfume was just as dominating.

                Once in comfortable chairs, their host sat back down behind her desk and got to business. “I’m not surprised you called. I saw that news conference. I’ve often wondered what happened to my dearest Lou. It is most distressing to hear that he was abducted and used in such …. a discombottly fashion.”

                Her sing song voice and use of … inappropriately childish talk threw Dave off for a second. Thankfully, Emily was a little more desensitized to nonsense from a fellow woman. “Ah, yes. After we discovered his involvement in the Sullivan case, we reviewed what we had on Mr… Jitsu. Your name came up quite a bit.” She left hanging, leaving Kumo to show them how Yoshi Hamato’s former flame would choose to fill in the blanks.

                “I imagine it did. The police were rather suspicious of me, given they couldn’t find anyone that’d seen my huggy wumpus after I did.” Lips pursed, Agatha leaned back, hugging herself. “I understand of course, but it was rather distressing at the time. I had no idea if my dearest was dead or alive or running out of time.” The elder woman sighed, blinking rapidly. “I guess we know now. Poor dear Louie. I wish I’d ignored the copperly coppers and paid for investigators myself; maybe he would’ve been found in time.”

                Shaking her head before rubbing a delicate finger under one eye, she asked, “At the risk of being morbily orbid, have you found his body? With his family gone, I thought I would commission a worthy memorial for my love.”

Dave fought a shudder as her flat, dead stare landed on him. Holy crap, she’s a psychopath. It shouldn’t have been overly surprising; her described manipulative behaviour, seeming lack of any real relationships since Hamato, massive business with very little known about it; all these were things that would make sense with a psychopath. Didn’t change the fact that every time Rossi encountered a true psychopath in his life, his brain started screaming predator! Run! Kumo’s mask was one of the oddest he’d ever seen though; worn through, cracked and filled in with a bizarre cutesiness that she probably thought came across as endearing. All it really did was add a level of disgust to Dave’s more primal response.

                Setting all that aside, “No, we haven’t yet. Until we do, though, we’re operating as if he’s still alive; just so you aren’t upset by anything that you might hear, Ma’am.” Ain’t no way we’re letting her know he’s still alive and kicking. We may have just found what the Hamatos are hiding from.

                “Oh please, call me Agatha.” Her attempt at a winsome smile was JUST this side of wrong. “I hope you catch the absolute monster,” That’s some actual venom there. “that did this. Lou was such a wonderful man. There’s nothing he could’ve dimbly done to deserve this.”

                “Agatha,” Emily diverted her attention from Rossi, “in the years since, has anything new come up? Anyone told you something, you maybe remembered a thing you forgot before or that didn’t seem off at the time?”

                Ms Kumo leaned back, looking up, clearly trying to appear reflective. “I have asked myself that same question many times over the years. I’m afraid not. I’ve become something of a … recluse, since losing my honey badger; and none of the few friends I have left have the will to upset me by bringing him up. I wish I could help you, I really do. None of us are safe while his killer is still loose.”

                “Not to mention his sons.” Kumo’s attention snapped back to him like a laser sight. “I’m sorry Mr Rossi?”

                Not agent huh? “The boys he was used to father with Claudia Sullivan. The killer would be a threat to them too.”

                She blinked, once, twice, “Yes of course. I do hope they’re safe. Have you had any progress finding them?”

                The baby talk disappeared. Those kids MEAN something to her. “Nothing we can share. You know how it is, gotta keep things close to the vest.”

                “Yes,” her eyes twinkled, something stirring behind the mask, “discretion is so very key.” A smile abruptly spread her purple lips. “Well, I wish I could be of more help, but I simply don’t have anything to add so long after the fact. If there’s any further informational assistance I can offer, please do call. My re sorry orces are at your dispense.” Kumo stood, reaching to shake hands across her massive desk. The agents reciprocated, made their goodbyes, and left.

                Out on the sidewalk, entering a cab, Emily finally caught David’s eyes. “What was that?”

                “Dangerous.” He murmured back.

                Morgan looked up as Prentiss and Rossi’s return was announced by Emily’s “That woman is cold.”

                “Oh,” Aaron asked, putting his tablet down, “how’d it go?”

                Rossi pulled out a chair, shaking his head, “Kumo didn’t have anything new to add but I’m sure she’s a psychopath. Except for a couple moments, there was no genuine emotion. She also kept up this odd, cutesy speech pattern in an attempt at making herself seem sweet and harmless. It was more than a little jarring.”

                “Not to mention annoying.” Emily piped up, “If we hadn’t left when we did, I was going to scream. And did you notice how possessive she was?” Talking to the group at large, “Every time she referred to Yoshi Hamato she called him her something or other, usually with the weirdest pet names.” The brunette made a face at that, sticking her tongue out. “The only times there was any real feeling was when someone else’s power over, or connection to Yoshi was mentioned. She always called him Lou too!” Emily exclaimed, snapping her fingers and looking to Rossi for confirmation.

                The senior agent nodded along. “His Lou Jitsu persona is all he was to her. It could be that he just stopped going by his real name after coming to America; wouldn’t be the first immigrant to do that. But his kids always referred to him by his Japanese name, not his pseudonym. So that’s probably how he identified himself to them.”

                “And she’s British/Japanese herself, isn’t she?” Morgan mused, “So wouldn’t it be more natural for her to use his Japanese name than that weird whitewashing name the studios gave him?”

                Emily rocked her head back and forth a bit. “I mean, her accent was definitely British, so who knows how much exposure she’s actually had to Japanese culture, and she’s been in America for at least thirty-five years.”

                “Fair point.” Derek conceded.

                “Do you think she was involved in the abduction?” Reid asked, leaning forward eager for new information.

                David’s face screwed up with scepticism. “I’m not sure. Do I think she could do it? Possessive as she is, sure. But I don’t see that same possessiveness letting her give access to Dr Eugenics.”

                “Unless she’s the infertile ‘partner’.” JJ offered, “If she couldn’t have a child with Yoshi, she’s mixed white/asian heritage herself; could she have hired Draxum to make a custom baby for her? Using Yoshi and suitable women?”

                “Then Yoshi escapes and takes the kids with him? It’s plausible.” Morgan said, looking to see what the others thought. Wish he’d talk to us though. It’d frustrated the former cop to no end that the twins had resolutely refused to put their father on the phone. “He’s been traumatized enough. Dad’s finally getting better and this mess is already threatening his recovery. Sorry, but no.” It was the most emphatic Leo’d been the entire call, with Donnie deferring to his brother. So long as the family felt staying hidden was in their best interests, this investigation was dead in its tracks.

                A faint building buzz at the back of his mind finally pulled Donatello from the finicky soldering he’d been engrossed in all day. Glancing in the reflection of his golden bust, the softshell identified his twin lingering by the lab’s primary entrance. “I appreciate that basking in my greatness would be highly beneficial, but I ‘get the feeling’, air quotes, that you are seeking more.”

                His younger brother huffed and sauntered in, rubbing at his side. “How’re you doing?”

                “I am well. I’m sure you have notice that I am … anxious for this evening’s phone call, but otherwise unbothered….. yourself?” Reciprocal concern. Well remembered Donatello. Out of the corner of his eye, Donnie observed Leo slowly lowering into his designated bean bag. “I mean…. Probably can’t go worse than yesterday.”

                Leo had fled from the call, cutting off his participation after refusing to get their father involved. Once Donnie had finally been able to get his blue brother alone in the wee hours of the morning, he informed Leon that another call had been arranged for the next day. The engineer’s fears of an explosive reaction had proven unfounded when Leonardo simply sighed and said “Ok” while preparing a cup of sleepy time tea. Now Don wasn’t sure if his brother’s subdued reaction was due to resignation, sadness or some maddening combination of the two. I hate emotions.

                “The FBI will likely still be recording, but our Grandparents will be speaking to us from their home and the proverbial ice has already been broken; so, theoretically, the call should be more relaxed.” Finally at a good leaving off point, Don dabbed clean the end of his soldering iron, turned it off and placed it in the stand. “Perhaps preparing a list of questions we wish answered in advance would help?”

                The recumbent leader smiled slightly. “Yeah, that’s probably a good idea. Nice thinking Don.”

                “All my thinking is nice.”

                Leon rolled his eyes. “Uh huh.”

                Silence reigned for longer than Leonardo usually let it when he didn’t have a distraction. Donnie decided to break it. “You are far quieter than is normal for you. Even your… emoting is quiet. I am asking this with all seriousness, are you alright Nardo?”

                Deep blue eyes got shimmery as they locked with dark brown. “I… thank you.”

                Startled, Donnie blinked rapidly, trying to process the wholly unexpected response. Leo continued; “I know you hate talking about feelings, so thank you for pushing yourself. I appreciate it. And thank you for being thoughtful about the questions, you’re really helping me with all this and I…” He sucked down a deep, fortifying breath and closed his eyes. “I owe you the same effort. The way you feel about feelings in general is how I feel about talking about serious emotions, my real thoughts and feelings.” A cautious touch tingled along the edge of Donnie’s mind. “I’m … scared. I’m scared of the FBI, I’m scared of the Sullivans, I’m scared of what it’ll do to all of us. I’m tired and I’m stressed and I don’t see that changing any time soon.”

                Don’s face started to get hot and tight, sympathetic sorrow rising up, but Leo wasn’t done.

                “But I get what you and Mikey and everybody is saying. This could go wrong, but it could also go really right and there’s only one way to find out. I know you want this, and … if it goes right, it’s what I want to… I mean it. I just, if it doesn’t?....” He started to cry now, curling up on the bag.

                Donnie launched across and wrapped himself around his twin. “If it doesn’t, we still have everything we started out with and nothing of value will have been lost.” He whispered fiercely into his little brother’s ear. “And you will always have this family, no matter what, no matter where we are. Anatawa hitorijanai. Hermano.” Leo shook with a little laugh through his tears… and BELIEVED him.

                Later that evening, they were settled into Don’s lab again, getting ready to call. While Donnie set up his routing programs then double and treble checked their readiness, Leo set out cups and a steaming pot of soothing tea that Splinter had dropped off. Reaching into his pouch, he brought out the list of questions they’d ironed out earlier and set that between them on the desk. Spinning slightly back and forth on his rolly chair, he watched Don’s fingers fly as he finished up.

                Before long, the genius turned, question in his eyes, and at Leo’s answering nod, initiated the call. One ring, two and the call connected. “Hello?” Their grandfather’s questioning voice answered.

                Leo shuddered a little at Don’s side and leaned over seeking comfort. Donatello absently noted that Leo’s touch didn’t seem to bother him as much anymore as that from others and turned his attention back to more immediate matters.

                “It’s us.” Leo shoved him slightly. Dude. Rude.

                He didn’t have a chance to retaliate appropriately before the conversation truly began.

                “Oh good.” The relief in Bruce Sullivan’s voice was obvious. “We’re glad you were still able to call. I hope you boys are doing ok.”

                “We’re alright.” Leo answered, only a slight croak in his voice. “Actually, we were hoping that we could ask you guys some questions this time.”

                “Sure.” Maria answered, “And just so you know, our younger son, Jake is here too.”

                Another male voice chimed in this time. “Hey.. uh… I’m Jake?”

                There were some awkward chuckles all around and the questions began.

                Slowly the twins learned more about their maternal family, mostly things that Donnie could’ve just looked up himself, but Mikey had convinced him it would be a better bonding experience to ask them personally.

 The Sullivans were an upper middle-class family, her being a marine biologist and he being a former navy chef. This had led to them meeting on a scientific expedition where Maria was a researcher and Bruce had gotten a job in the galley after he’d finished his service. Eventually the couple had settled in New York where Maria took a position with Columbia University as a teacher/researcher who also was leant out to local aquariums.

                Bruce had found a job as head chef at an old age home nearby with residents that turned out to be pickier than any captain or admiral he’d cooked for in the past. Their grandfather started to tell many entertaining stories about antics of the elderly that brought a smile to Leo’s anxious face, finally getting the slider to uncurl in his chair a bit.

                Jake, it turned out, was a single father of two who worked in software development. Soon uncle and nephew were embroiled in a drawn-out conversation that left everyone else just observing on the sidelines. The tech nerds eventually petered out, allowing their relatives to join back in. The rabid geek session, though, had dissipated more tension.

                Now it moved on to other family members not present. Jake’s children were two girls, three and five years of age that were currently visiting their mother in New Jersey. Leo thankfully managed to keep his beak shut at the mention of their neighbour state.

                The Sullivan’s other living children were Sofia and Mark, both older than Jake, who sadly were not available at the moment. Mark was in a long-term relationship with a woman named Brooke with whom he owned a moderately successful fusion grill, and Sofia was not currently interested in any sort of romance or kids while she pursued her career in paediatrics.

                Finally, they all seemed a bit talked out for the late hour and began to plan another call, this time on the weekend. “So, three o’clock, Sunday afternoon. We’ll call you then Mr an’ Missus Sullivan.” Leo said, setting up multiple alarms on his phone.

                “Oh Leo,” Maria answered, “you don’t have to be so formal. You can call us by name or…” her voice cautiously hopeful, “you could call us Nonna and Poppa…. Or something like that… that’s what the girls call us anyway….” She tapered off softly, seemingly afraid she’d overstepped.

                Leo sat stunned, frozen silent by the offer leaving their answer to Donatello. “That would…. That would be… nice. … Nonna.” A little sob on the other end. A little more distance bridged. A little stitch in a wounded heart.

                Morgan opened the laptop again, may as well video conference when I can. “Hey Momma, how you doing?” He hoped she was having a better day, not being able to track down the Hamato boys or this Barry Draxum character was really wearing on their Mistress of the Net.

                “Well, better. I think. Maybe…” She huffed, blowing a loose curl out of her face, “I THINK, I’ve found something, heavy emphasis on think, but, I dunno.”

                “Talk it out with me Baby Girl, what’re you looking at?” Derek asked, settling down to sip at his steaming coffee.

                The bubbly blonde inhaled deeply, then let it all out in a puff, gesturing with a bright pink quill. “Okay. So, when you’re online, as long as you don’t do anything, stupid, you can pretty much stay anonymous to like ninety-nine percent of the people on there. Y’know don’t give out your real name, don’t talk in detail about your life, stuff like that.”

                “Yeah, common sense internet safety.” Huh. That place at the corner does good brew. Gotta thank Detective Moros for the rec.

                “Right, now people like moi,” she blinked fetchingly making Derek smirk, “can dig in a little deeper, trace connections, follow the fingerprint of your activity back to the source…”

                “Again, so glad you’re on our side now,” he mumbled into his drink.

                “Hah!” Garcia barked in response, “Oh Honey Mustard and Chili I would love to do a deep dive into your internet activity. But, not what we’re here for.” Penelope shook her head, getting back to business. “People like me though, we can ALMOST disappear online, almost but not completely. So, since our unsub, his victims, et all were kinda, a dead end, no offense to the departed, I decided to take a stab at tracking down the illustrious Othello Von Ryan.”

                Taking another sip of rich coffee, “You said you had his signature.”

                Her grit teeth glare let him know how that was going. “Yeah… I can tell where he’s been, stuff he’s done, but, Othello hasn’t actually been hiding that. He likes bragging about his hacks, obnoxiously so really but, that’s not unusual. Most hackers like to toot their own horn in the community; admiration of your peers kinda thing.” She said, shrugging.

                “Hence the pretentious screen names?” Morgan needled.

                His best friend pantomimed a mocking laugh in response to the jab. “Aaaanywho, Othello’s covered his actual connection pretty good and I haven’t been able to find him revealing anything I could use to identify him, but….”

                Derek’s eyebrows climbed up his forehead. “But?” he prompted.

                “Well, if you tick off enough people, someone’s gonna talk.”

                He leaned forward, “Somebody’s outing him?”

                Garcia heaved a sigh. “Sorta?” She kept reading as she spoke, “There’s this other hacker, Special K, they’ve got some kinda axe to grind with Ryan O’ the ello. Lot’s o’ shade thrown in his direction, flame wars with his fans; mostly he just sits back and laughs at them. Buuuuuut, I’ve been digging through it all to … see …. i….” she trailed off, dark eyes widening, “ohhhhh.”

                “Penelope?”

                Reading from her screen, “’It’s your fault. It’s your fault I went to jail. You...’” she tilted her head, “blankety, blankety, blank, blank … ohhhhh sweetie, even on 4chan you couldn’t get away with saying that. Long and short of it, Othello screwed up some project Special K had going on, apparently resulting in K getting busted by the cops.”

                “Does K say what they did? Maybe we can backtrack the connection to K and get more info through them directly.” Morgan asked, grabbing a sticky note and pen to make a reminder for himself.

                Furious tapping of Penelope’s nails against her keyboard rang out. “Uhhhh…. Not her, but Othello says ‘You were an idiot going after Nakamura. Way beyond your paygrade.’”

                Derek perked up, meeting Garcia’s eyes, “Nakamura? Is that another hacker?”

                She paused, leaning back to take a sip of her own drink, chewing on the straw a bit. “Could be. I can think of like, three Nakamuras off the top of my head, nine if you want to go Nakamura-adjacent. Might not be another hacker at all though, he could be referencing something else, a place, an event, a company… I don’t know.”

                “It’s a lead though Penelope. You found us a lead.”

                Leo jolted on the couch as another crash sounded out from their dojo/garage. Dropping the edge of his comic, waiting for any further noise, he was relived to hear a cry of “Victory!” from Casey Sr. Post training session training sessions between Raph and the Caseys™ could range from rowdy to “hey Leo, is this supposed to bend like that?”

                Snuggling under the heavy quilt Splinter had painstakingly sewed together, Leon

delved back into his comic; bad guys were in the middle of getting a well-deserved beat down. He was again interrupted by a very smelly woman heavily plopping down on his blanket covered feet. Beak wrinkling, the slider turned another page. “I don’t hear anyone calling my name, so I assume you’re all still in one piece.”

                “Hah!” Casey barked. “Not for lack of trying my friend! But your brother did not think we should burden you with unnecessary labour.” Pulling his comic down enough to look at her over the edge, “Thanks for that.” the ninja mumbled, glad he didn’t have to deal with any dislocated limbs today at least.

                “I see my progeny was correct in saying you’re being a real bummer.”

                Why can’t she talk normal? Jr isn’t like this. “Am I now? So sorry for bringing down the vibe.” Be nice Leo, she’s family. Kinda. Sorta. Adjacent.

                A heavy silence weighed between the two, staring at each other sceptically. Leo broke first. “What?”

                “I was told that connecting with your grandparents was going well. Why does this upset you?” It was really hard to be mad at her bulldozing into sensitive matters when she was so sincere about it. Eyes wide and guileless, Casey Sr leaned forward, hands clasped in her lap.

                Dangit Junior. He meant well, but Leo’s pseudo-son really didn’t know when to keep his mouth shut. Probably got that from me. Leon sighed, You’re trying to grow, remember? “It’s going fine. We’ve got another call with them in a few days. They want to introduce us to their other son.”

                “Isn’t that good?”

                “Yeah, I guess.” Fiddling with a page between his fingers, he tried to ignore the tension squirming under lime green scales. “Still nervous though.”

                Sr scrunched her brow. “Why?”

                Giving up on his comic entirely, the slider resigned himself to his fate with a huff. “There’s a lot up in the air Casey.” Meeting those dark almond eyes, he continued, “Sure they’re ok with having grandsons of dubious origin, but they don’t know about the mutant thing, or the weapon thing or that we were getting tight with their daughter’s killer….” trailing off, Leon shrugged helplessly. “It could all still go wrong, so I’m nervous.”

                Pulling her feet up to sit cross legged and armed on the ratty cushion, Casey Sr looked down, deep in thought. Honestly, it was touching, in a weird Hannibal-Lector-cares-about-you-apparently kind of way. While Leo and Sr had been civil after the whole summoning Shredder, kidnapping Dad incident, they hadn’t been close. First, she’d been basically adopted by Pops, after bonding during his capture (cough, Stockholm, cough), then Raph had discovered a sparring partner that would take everything he had to give and come back running.

                Mikey had been welcoming of course, but his drive to “fix” her had their new lunatic dodging him with a side eye more often than not. April’d been happy to have another girl in the sea of Hamato testosterone, and Donnie? Was, well Donnie. As long as Casey stayed out of his space, he didn’t really care, though she’d promptly been given her own Genius Built™ phone, (“She’s not connecting that piece of crap Motorola to my network.”)

                Post-Krang though, a weird “co-parenting” bond had started to form over their mutual care for Jr. The poor kid was like a lost puppy; Kujo as a puppy, but still a puppy. Tripping over himself, so sad and jumpy, the entire clan had melted en-mass at his feet and glomped onto their newest child. Being the younger versions of Casey’s parents pushed Sr and Leon to start working together for Jr’s sake. In the end, they’d settled on him attending school and working on integrating with humanity under Sr’s supervision (who in turn was under April’s semi-sane supervision) while living in the Lair where he could completely relax; being his own apocalypse brand of “normal” and process his loses with people who could understand that part of his life best in the current timeline.

                “Bull.” he looked back up to Casey sitting straight, fists braced on knees.

                “Exsqueeze me?” Ok, she’s not so endearing anymore.

                “You are not hesitant because of being a mutant, you know humans can accept you. And it is not because of your connection to Draxum, there is no necessity to reveal that.” She leaned forward, head directly over Leo’s covered knees, “so, what is it Leonardo? What is holding you back?”

                Her words asked, but her eyes were filled with a disturbing certainty. “Ever heard of personal space?”

                “Ever heard of honesty?” Casey shot back, tone heavy with challenge.

                Leonardo was absolutely a liar, he was also absolutely a coward. These were both things he needed to change, though the urge to spin a fancy tale and twist her up in word play burned in the young leader’s throat. You’re trying to be better. For THEM. ……. But not all at once.

                “Look. I’m ok. It’s not that deep. Just leave it alone Casey.” And he hid behind his comic again. Bravely.

                The antique clock Pops insisted on keeping around ticked loudly on the wall. Suddenly, his feet were seized and yanked off to the side, flinging the striped ninja down to the floor. Rolling to a stop, shell clanking on the concrete, he found himself blinking dazedly at the nutcase standing over him. Astonishment rapidly bled into anger. “What was that for?!”

                She cocked a hip, arms crossed and supremely unimpressed. “Lying to me. I hate that.”

                Leo snorted and started to lever himself up, only to stop dead sitting as she spoke next. “You still blame yourself for the Krang.” Heart stuttering, he struggled to keep his breathing steady as his deepest secret was just casually tossed into his lap. Valiantly fighting against the numbness creeping over his mind, Leon looked up to meet her dark eyes, something inscrutable swimming in their depths. “What do YOU know?” he challenged, grasping desperately to maintain some level of control over the situation.

                “Like recognizes like.” Casey murmured, the quietest he’d ever heard her.

                Blinking rapidly, flatfooted by the completely unexpected reply, Leonardo finally surrendered. Wherever Cassandra Jones was taking this, Leo was just along for the ride.

                Crouching in front of the floundering turtle, Casey continued, “You’re not the only one that still blames themself for nearly ending the world.”

                Oh….. that.

                After reading his silence for a moment, she continued. “Thing is, I was a willing accomplice… so if I’m forgivable, why aren’t you?”

                Her cold brutal logic ripped across his mind. Where the others had argued that the Foot would’ve just restole the Key later, that he couldn’t have known what would happen, that he was really just a kid too young for what dropped onto his shoulders; Leo’s mind had always whispered, you still could’ve prevented it all by just not being an idiot.

 This argument was different. She didn’t say that he didn’t do anything wrong, just that what she’d done was WORSE.

                Casey was right. She’d CHOSEN to help the Foot, knowing they were criminals, knowing that they intended to rain destruction down on the earth. She’d chosen to hurt people, but Leo didn’t hold that against her. The moment she’d turned on the Shredder and stood to fight alongside the Hamatos, risking her own life, he’d forgiven her. Draxum had only changed after being thwarted and then dragged into the light by Michelangelo, kicking and screaming all the way (sometimes literally). Casey made a choice, to abandon all her goals and chance the ultimate sacrifice to do the right thing. There was no question in his mind that she’d redeemed herself, so why hadn’t he?

                I set it all off.

                You didn’t choose it.

                Everyone could’ve died. People DID die.

                You almost died too. You saved everyone else. Everyone that KNOWS has forgiven you. Are they stupid?

                No.

                Then forgive yourself.

                Awareness trickled back in, still sitting on the floor, Leo’s hands had come up to cover leaking eyes while his breaths shuddered through soft sobs, stitch pinching in his side. A strong, calloused hand firmly gripped his shoulder. Looking up past his hands, there she was, face soft like he’d never seen before, her own tears lingering behind lashes. “Thank you.” He managed to whisper. Expression twisting, she leaned forward to bonk foreheads like the rest of the clan for the first time, “Just returning the favour Blue.”

                Jr smiled softly to himself, easing back into the shadows as he’d been taught to all his life. Mom’d always been on the short list of people that could get through Sensei’s thick skull when he was being particularly bull-headed…. Whatever a bull was.

                Learning how the Foot had gotten ahold of the Key in the first place had certainly explained a few things. There’d always been an extra layer of something on Sensei when he was mourning, Casey now knew that it was guilt. To be able to nudge things along to help Leo forgive himself eased Casey’s own pain. Sensei had given Casey a future, Casey would do his best to help his father have the happiness he deserved.

                In the days that followed, he basked in the new happy atmosphere that followed Leonardo everywhere the slider went. Chirpy, bouncy and eager to spread the joy, a new lighter Leon flitted about leaving a trail of laughter behind. Is this what Sensei was really like? Before everything? Jr asked himself, dragged along by his mischievous mentor as they prepared a prank for Splinter. “Look, itching powder in the undies is cruel, but it is also absolutely deserved and long overdue.”

                Within a couple hours they were running for the tunnels, laughing as they scrambled to evade an enraged ninja master who was spewing things in Japanese that Casey was pretty sure he wasn’t allowed to repeat. Leo’s cackles cut off as a slipper nailed him in the back of the head, making him stumble. Deciding that his father would want him to save himself, the human pelted onward into the safety of the sewers, leaving a pleading turtle behind in his wake.

                Eventually sneaking back in for supper later, Jr was relieved to learn that Splinter wasn’t holding anything against him, believing his son to be the main instigator. Casey smirked at Leo’s indignant squawk, revelling in having grandson privileges. Slurping up his serving of noodles coated in a sauce of new flavours that the future refugee was enthralled to experience, he watched his new/old family shove, laugh and discuss their days. Notably, Leo and Raph were talking about what to do for training the next day. From his discussions with April, it sounded like Leon was finally settling into a balance between the happy go lucky goofball he used to be and the reliable leader he was working to become.

                Laughing under his breath as Splinter squirmed a little on his stool,Jr turned his attention to the right when Donatello was crunching his way through his own serving of noodles, no spice, added octopus and crackers. “So, your next phone call is tomorrow, right?”

                Pausing to swallow a tremendous mouthful, Donnie nodded and answered. “Yes, tomorrow at 2 hours post meridiem to be exact. Their elder son, Mark, is supposed to be in attendance this time.”

                “How do you think it’s gonna go?” Casey asked, bringing another bite up from his bowl.

                Don’s eyes cut across the table to Leo laughing wide and loud with Mikey. “Quite well I believe.”

                After a delicious lunch, four members of the Sullivan family sat down around a brand-new Bluetooth phone interface so they could all hear and be heard better. Bruce brought in coffee and some soft cookies. Mark especially was fidgeting, nervous about speaking to his nephews for the first time.

                They all jumped a little when the phone finally rang. Ruefully shaking his head, Bruce reached out to answer the call. “Hello?”

                “Hi… uh …. Poppa.” Leonardo answered first this time, hesitating on the new family title.

                Smiling at already having made some progress this call, Bruce answered his more reluctant grandson. “Hello Leo. It’s good to hear you. Your Nonna, Jake and Mark are all here too.” The others called out their own greetings.

                “Yeah, Donnie’s here too,” said brother’s voice piped up, “Salutations.” This kid. He’s hilarious. Bruce chuckled to himself. “How have you been?” he chose to ask.

                “Ok.” Leo replied.

                “Leon pranked Dad.”

                Said prankster screeched and a loud scuffle broke out on the other end of the line, shouts of “Traitor!” and “Court Jester!” ringing out.

                The Sullivans exchanged grins at their antics, remembering when this very house rang out with similar hijinks from four mischievous children. After a couple minutes it sounded like some real property damage was starting to happen, time to step in.

                “Boys? That’s enough now.” Bruce called, hoping he struck a tone that got their attention, but wasn’t too stern, leary of potentially scaring the twins off. Sounds of scuffling stopped almost immediately and they sounded off with contrite, “Yes Sir”’s. Hoping to encourage them, their grandfather got closer to the speaker and murmured, “So what did yah do?”

                A nervous giggle tittered over the line. “Uh, put itching powder in his tighty whities?”

                Don’t over react, don’t over react. “Oof.” He started, sharing winces with everyone else. “That’s harsh kiddo.”

                “It was deserved.” Was their stereo reply. Oh wow. Note to self, don’t tick off the twins.

                “Oooohhhkay.” Jake drawled, giant grin across his face. “Pranks a common occurrence in the Hamato household then?”

                “Four boys and a father who is more than willing to turn a blind eye.” Donatello countered.

                A startled laugh barked out of Mark. “Sounds like fun.” He commented, studiously avoiding his mother’s unimpressed gaze.

                Leo, surprisingly, took the lead again. He launched into a recollection of various exploits all four of the brothers had engaged in over the years. Bruce took Maria’s hand, sharing a meaningful look. Leonardo’s been so quiet and defensive until now. Are we turning a corner with him? Are they starting to trust us?

                Not wanting to get ahead of himself, the family patriarch focused on the here and now, especially focussing on slowly introducing his elder son to the twins. Mark had been more reluctant than Jake, though not outright opposed as Sofia had been.

                Right now, Jake and Don were going over a new website that Jake was setting up for Mark’s restaurant. The conversation flowed along mentioning links to Mark’s blog that, as it turns out, the twin’s baby brother, Michelangelo, followed. Small world, Bruce mused, listening as Leo once again launched into a glowing description of his little brother. It seemed that once Leon warmed up, there was nothing he enjoyed talking about more than his family.

                Mark was relaxing too, offering to trade tips with little Angelo if they’d tell him what the kid’s screen name was. “Who knows, maybe one day he could come join me in the kitchen for a bit. Sounds like it’d be a hoot.” And it’s awkward again.

                “Yeah. Sure.” All enthusiasm had been sucked out of his younger grandson’s voice, hurting something deep in Bruce’s heart. They’re so afraid of meeting us.

                “Leo,” Jake started, when did my kid get a dad voice? “I know you’re scared, but we can meet safely. Not even involving the FBI, we can keep things quiet and private. Heck, we rent a cottage up north every year, we could all go up there. There’s nobody around for miles.” Pitched low and soothing, Bruce admired his son’s attempt to calm the boys and cajole them into moving beyond just phone calls. I’m not sure that they’ve opened up enough for that just yet though.

                There were a couple beats of silence, Leo and Donnie likely trading looks on the other end, then Donatello took the lead again. “It’s not just a matter of safety,” he sighed. “You’re aware of the deformation of our hands?”

                “Yes.” Maria stepped in, no longer needing to stand back and let her boys bond.

                “It’s not just our hands.” Bruce watched his wife’s face close down, suppressing her rage at her family being hurt… again. “How… extensive?” He squeezed her hand. She’s going all scientist to avoid saying something she doesn’t want to.

                Don responded in kind. “We’re healthy, more robust than average frankly; but our appearance is entirely abnormal.”

                “Maybe.. maybe it’d help if we kinda, forewarn them?” Leo murmured softly, probably to his brother.

                “Donetello?” Maria prompted.

                “In addition to having three digits on each hand, we have two digits on each foot, with a slightly elongated heel.” He huffed, clearly not happy about giving this description, “Scaley skin, low body temp, variable skin pigmentation and completely hairless.”

                “Except for the eyebrows Donnie draws on everyday.” Annnnd another scuffle sounded off from the phone speakers.

                “Boys!” Maria cut in, “You’re sure you’re healthy though, everything else aside?”

                They settled down quickly, rushing to reassure their grandmother. “Yes Nonna, we’re healthy, just, y’know, sometimes get mistaken for monsters or people doing cosplay.” Leo answered, trailing off as he tried to downplay how they’d get treated in public. No wonder they’re avoiding us seeing them. I’d do the same if people called me a monster for my face. His own protective anger started to boil at what his grandsons had already been through in their short lives. Made by a serial killer, raised in the shadows, mistreated for their appearance, how much are they going to have to deal with?

                “Leo, Don, we don’t care how you look, as long as you’re happy and healthy.” Bruce tried to reassure.

                “I … it’s.” Leon sighed, “We know that people can get over it, we’ve got a few friends, but…”

                But you never know, went unspoken. Not to mention, there’s always that initial reaction that you might not be able to control, no matter how you really feel about things. “But you’re nervous. Perfectly reasonable. Why don’t we keep doing phone calls and work our way up to it. Whatever you’re comfortable with.”

                “Ok Poppa, sounds like a deal.” Donnie replied, muffled as if he were turned aside. From there the rest of the conversation went much smoother, new bonds slowly forming.

                It was a good day. The twins had come away from their call yesterday in good spirits, Leo was more like himself again, their humans all had the day off and the entire clan was in the Lair for an epic dance party extravaganza. Good food, friends and décor surrounded them as they all took turns picking a song and jamming their heart out on the living room floor.

                Casey Jr was showing his skills, well learned from his future family of theatre kids. Leo and Sr had both choked as their adoptive kid crooned a mocking love song in their direction leaving the rest of the family literally rolling on the floor laughing. Raph and April had pulled off a beautiful R&B number, like bosses, and Splinter had made the sewers ring with an unfortunately dour opera solo.

                Leo was currently swaggering up, dragging Donnie along as his backup dancer, the opening tones of Despacito ringing out from the speakers. Soon, Leon was in the groove, rapid Spanish spilling from his lips with only the occasional slip up, he and Don twisting around each other with a coordination that none of the others could quite match.

                Raphel stopped for a moment to consider his second youngest brother. Glad Casey was finally able to pull him outta his own head. Missed him like this. For someone so smart, their leader could be real dumb sometimes. And he WAS smart, not Donnie smart, no one was Donnie smart, but Leo really wasn’t that far behind. The slider could read people like a book, plan around almost anything, was the boss of anything medicine and was working on learning Japanese on top of English and Spanish; he just slipped up sometimes having so many words in his head. That’s the next thing, he might be a dum dum but he doesn’t give himself enough credit for the smarts he’s got. Now that the Krang-inspired guilt was gone, maybe they could work on building some genuine self confidence in Leo, instead of the bravado mask he’d worn so long.

                Their song was ramping up, and so were the twins, markings starting to glow, they’d lost themselves in the song and then, Don started to sing too, in the same near perfect Spanish as Leonardo. Only…. Donnie didn’t speak Spanish, at all. Looking to the side, Raph caught April’s equally confused eyes as they tried to puzzle out what was going on. Scientific terminology was one thing, but other than the occasional word to correct Leo with, Donnie’d never taken an interest in languages. Now they were in a full-on duet, specks of power flickering between the two turtles consumed by their performance. Hitting the finale, marking fading with the music they both blinked rapidly, locking eyes. Jumping back to point at each other, they screeched in tandem, “What was that?!”

                A whirl of activity later saw the clan, minus Leo and Mikey, piled into Donnie’s lab watching their resident genius run scans and pour over security logs. Raph did his best to stay out of the way, stress eating pasta salad in the corner. A delicate hand on his elbow drew his attention down to April. “You ok big guy?” she asked, eyes full of concern.

                “Yeah, yeah,” he rushed to reassure, “I just… why is it always them?”

                His sister snorted, “Must be the universe’s favourite punching bags.”

                “Don!” They were interrupted by the flurry of Mikey and Leo running into the lab, Leon waving a tablet back and forth. Their two experts literally banging heads to look at the results. Meanwhile Mike scrambled up onto Raph’s shoulders, welcome weight comforting him with the knowledge that all his little brothers were close to protect. “What’d Leo say?” Raphie asked his newly acquired limpet.

                “The medical info for Donnie’s tracker thingies synched up on both of ‘em.” Angelo answered, swiping Raph’s fork to get some pasta for himself.

                “Huh.” I mean, they reflect off each other all the time.. but this?

                “Eureka!” Donnie hollered, “Fam, and my former tumour,” “Hey!” “I believe we have an answer!”

                They all crowded around to stare at multiple windows open next to each other on the massive screen over Donnie’s desk. Each window showed two sets of data starting off different that gradually became identical before breaking off on their own again. “By studying all our biometric data, recorded power levels and ..”

                “We twinned! Total syncope!” Leo yelled, pushing his hand into Don’s face and getting bit for his trouble. “That’s not what that means!” The softshell bellowed down at his now floored twin. “All our vital rhythms, including our brain waves, became completely synchronized just as when we were the same person. We were completely aware of each other’s intended movements and individual knowledge, as if we shared a brain again. Thank particle physics that is no longer the case!”

                Non-bitten hand raised in a triumphant fist, Leon cried into the concrete, “Twins!”

                “I hate you so much.”

[purpleturtle9000]

TUMBLR KEEPS CRASHING EVERY TIME I TRY TO SEND AN ASK SO I HOPE THIS WORKS

Little Leo and Tello how do interact I’m dying to know if shenanigans happen I am on my knees pls I love ur turtles so much

TUMBLR WE'RE GONNA FIGHT

okay are you ready for obnoxiously long ramblings about ninja turtles

Having finished this, I feel like it needs a TLDR so - Tello claims that Little Leo just annoys him, but they're bonded and nobody believes them. Also their D&D characters constantly bother each other and Leo goes to Tello for advice (and Tello goes to Leo when they need a reminder the world never ended after all).

Little Leo tends to drive Tello nuts. Partly because he's sixteen and therefore obnoxious, and partly because Tello's used to dealing with a mature and grown-up Leonardo who takes things seriously. Like, yes, they remember also being an obnoxious teenager, but they always thought Leo was worse, 'cause that's how twins work.

Also it's impossible to separate twins for long (excluding traumatic death and/or disappearance, oops). So whenever Donnie and Tello get into a nerd spiral and spend seven hours straight in the lab, Leo and Leonardo always show up eventually.

Leonardo chills quietly on a couch in the back and just makes sure they remember food and water exist. Leo has no chill whatsoever and constantly asks questions about what they're doing, and will that explode if he touches it, and will that set him on fire if he touches it, and when are they gonna get back to that Lou Jitsu marathon they started last night?

Tello hates being bothered when they're working on Science, so often as not, Little Leo gets unceremoniously shoved out of the door with one of Tello's metal arms. He's always very dramatic about it, but that never keeps them from getting rid of him. (If they find one of Leo's blue silly bandz on their metal arm that shoved him out, they're only soft about it for two seconds. But they also keep all the bandz, and talk to the squishmallow Leo gifted them when they need to figure out problems, so they're not fooling anyone.)

Unfortunately, blue and purple turtles have unshakeable twin instincts, which means that Tello and Leo have bonded in much the same way as Donnie and Leo. (This does not exactly work for Donnie and Leonardo, however, as they have their own problems, aka Donnie still holds a grudge about Leonardo bitching out Leo).

So Tello's two moods regarding Leo are "if you don't get out of my lab Right The Fuck Now you're going to get stabbed" and "if anyone bothers you, let me know and I will maul them".

Leo loves bothering Tello as much as he loves bothering Donnie. No matter how old the twins are, bothering each other is a requirement, and Leo is happy to indulge in being bothersome. Also no matter how many times Tello threatens to stab him, they never follow through on it, so he's pretty confident that he's in their good graces. Tello is far less of a cuddler than Donnie is (something something trauma) but Leo's okay with that.

Tello has even more advanced tech than Donnie, and Leo thinks that's pretty cool, because he knows how much advancing tech means to his twin. It's at a way higher level than he can understand, but he sees how excited Donnie and Tello get over it, which is enough to convince him to fake being excited about it too.

He also thinks that Tello's prosthetics are cool, even if he's not entirely sure what to think about Tello having hair. Mostly because why would any turtle have hair? But he can tease Tello about sometimes having blue hair ties, because of course he does. Gotta give your twin shit about liking you, after all.

Fortunately all four twins have something in common: a love for tabletop games. Put four gay nerds together and you will have D&D going in no time. If Tello stabs the table once because they constantly rolled poorly in that one session, that's the table's problem. Everyone else knows to stay out of the blood circle by now.

They also all love Jupiter Jim movies, but that creates a problem. See, Leonado and Tello are what you might call "traumatised from spending two-thirds of their lives fighting aliens", and sometimes the creatures in the JJ-verse remind them of the Krang. Over time, they've figured out their triggers, and Leo is now their guinea pig: he watches all the movies and takes notes on the scenes that he thinks will bother them, so they can figure out which ones to avoid.

When Leo's worried about something, but he doesn't want to bother Donnie, he will bother Tello! Cause they have the experience to give advice, and Leo doesn't feel like he's as much of a bother, given what Tello dealt with in the future. After fighting the end of the world, it's no problem to deal with a teenager's insecurity and crushes.

A lot of Tello's advice sounds remarkably like "I don't know, just stab them". Leo does not take this advice, but he does appreciate that Tello always comes up with some kind of answer to what he's dealing with. They don't have to be helpful, he just wants to know they were listening.

Tello does not need advice from Leo (or anyone else, to hear them tell it). But after so long fighting a war, sometimes they're not sure that it's actually over. When they're having a hard time adjusting, they look for Leo. The little one, who's an impetuous goofball, who plays jokes, who keeps trying to find ways to dye Tello's hair even though there's no dye in the world that will change black hair to neon blue. The one who's not like he was at fifteen, before the Krang came - but the one who proves to Tello that innocence is still in this world, even if it's not in them. The one who gives Tello hope.

[blueberrypossum]

A Date Down Under (GN Reader x Leo)

OH MY GOSH IT’S BEEN FOREVER SINCE I’VE POSTED!!

If you guys are wondering where I’ve been I write more on A03 with two original fanfics in the making! But, my tumblr account deserves some love too! This fanfic has been siting in my file for a long while and I originally wanted to post it when I was deep in the ROTTMNT fandom (still love it and miss it man). So, I decided to take out my oc in it and make it a reader fanfic so everyone can enjoy!  @bootyyy-shaker9000 ​ I know how much you love Leo so have some of the wonderful boy in blue!!

When Leo asked you if you wanted to celebrate your Friend Anniversary in the Lost City, you couldn’t refuse. 

 The feelings for the turtle though were getting tougher and tougher to maintain. Leo was always the flirt, and you tried to not let him play with your heartstrings, but now a blush would creep around your face whenever he would fire a one-liner or when he would push the physical contact to the extreme. 

You weren't used to so much affection, nor letting the addiction of being touched take over you like a drug. 

But you have seen the way Leo fake flirts with others, and just believed that he was just doing the same thing to you, because you were just friends, right? 

You were brushing your comb through your hair when your phone started to vibrate on your desk. You brought it up to your ear as you got comfortable in your seat.

“Hello?”

“Knock knock.”

“Who’s there?”

There were a few knocks on your bedroom window.

“Me.”

You giggled and walked over to the window and pulled back the blinds to see the one and only Leonardo Hamato, a sly grin on his face as he hung up on the phone. You placed your phone into your pocket and unlocked the window to reveal yourself to him. 

The blue bandana turtle looked a little taken aback as he took in the sight of his best friend. With the season turning colder, you wore something that suited the chilly wind yet sunny season, the cloth clinging to you gently. What caught him off guard the most was the dazzling smile you presented to him, the pure excitement of seeing him causing his bandana to feel tight around his head. 

Leo almost lost his balance as he hopped into your room, sweat growing on him as he tried to find anything else to look at other than you.

“Hey, how's your fever?” He asked, his voice drowned with no confidence, his heart still pounding as he finally glanced over. 

You were picking up your bag and you frowned at the question.

“Hum? What fever?” 

“Oh, yeah, you just look hot to me,” he replied, pressing a confident smile on his lips as he hoped that you didn’t catch him almost slipping up. 

Your cheeks went pink and you playfully slapped his arm.

“Oh hush up and let’s go, we’re burning daylight.”

“That’s not the only thing that’s burning.”

“Oh my gosh, get going, Red Kamon.”

The tall turtle chuckled and pulled out his sword, swiping it around the room until a portal was created. Leo moved to the side and bowed his head towards you. 

“After you,” he purred and you rolled your eyes at him and took a step into the portal and was led right at the center of the Hidden City. The colorful and mysterious city was weird to say the least, nothing but weird creations and magic lingered in the air as yokai walked past you. Leo stepped through the portal and was at your side as you both walked over to the city map. 

Leo used your shoulder as a rest while you gazed over at the map.

“Where do you want to go, shorty?” He asked as your eyes scanned the different areas and pointed towards the Witch Town.

Your mind seemed clouded from the close contact and you pointed to the spa.

“What about here? Sounds interesting.”

“Can’t do. My idiot and less attractive twin got us turtles banned there,” Leo commented and soon his arm snaked around your neck and was completely over your shoulders, bringing you close enough that you could feel his breath over your cheek. 

“What about here?”

“Nope. They banned me there.”

“How did you get banned from a spa?”

“My dashing good looks were just too much for them.”

You let out a gust of air and knew the real reason, Donnie told you the whole funny scenario of Leo needing hair to get into the spa, totally backfired and threw him in jail. 

“What places are you not banned from, blue?” You asked, turning over to him with your arms crossed. 

He gave you his signature smile and leaned down till you were face to face, his beak just a few inches from your nose. 

“Here, just those two places. Your heart? Never.”

“Then what about the Pirate Bazaar?” You mumbled, your heart almost leaping out of your chest as Leo’s eyes widened with excitement.

“Ohhh, I’ve been there! But only for a little bit, let’s go!” He squealed and took your hand and led you through the crowd of animals and other subjects of yokai. His three-fingered hand was cold against your warm one, and you knew Leo and his brothers like closeness to you and April since you were the only warm-blooded creatures; Splinter was too but hugs were hard to get from him. Still, the hand holding made others look over and gush at you two, as if you were a couple. 

If only.

He didn’t let go as he took you into lesser crowds, bringing you closer till your arms were touching. You then realized he wasn’t wearing an outfit, but then remembered most of the yokai’s were clothesless as well. His muscles bounced as he walked and you had to do everything to not wrap your fingers around the growing muscle. 

STOP STOP STOP THINKING LIKE THIS! HE DOESN’T LIKE YOU LIKE THAT!

His thumb started to brush against yours as he turned to you and you swore you saw a red dash against his cheeks, and it wasn’t his stripes.

“You’ve been friends with me for a whole year! Please, do tell how great it must’ve been to be called my best friend,” he said slyly, wiggling his non-existent eyebrows, causing you to laugh. The joyous melody made Leo weak in the knees.

“You mean, me always having to save your shell from dangerous bad guys, having to endure all your jokes, and then the constant-CONSTANT- marathons of Jipiter Jim and Lou Jitsu to the point all I could do was speak quotes from the movies.”

“Oh yeah, may I remind you that you would text me excited about every movie date? Didn’t someone make their signature hot chocolate just for me when I showed this specific someone their now favorite movie? Ring any bells?” He replied back.

“Pffts, you know what? Your one-liners stink.”

The sword yielding turtle let out a gasp and grasped where his heart would be over his plaston as if he had been shot as he looked down at you. 

“My one-liners stink like Raph’s victory stink!”

You laughed and took back his hand and Leo felt his heart flew as your warm hand was gripping onto his cold one. You took the lead and finally made it to the entrance of the pirate grounds. There were booths of stuff that were related to the pirate theme of the area and some were just random selections of things to sell. The smell of seafood and other fried foods drifted into your nose and you led Leo to the entrance. 

After getting Lost City Cash at a money machine, you both took a selfie at the front entrance, Leo bringing you close and him having to lean down due to your height.  

There was a goblin looking woman in the booth at the entrance and the woman took your money and gave each of you a bracelet to get on rides and such. 

“For an extra 20 dollars, you can have a custom pirate outfit that you can switch on and off with ease,” she explained and you and Leo shared the same look, giving the worker a simple nod. She pointed to where single bathrooms were after she got the money.

“Last one there is a rotten turtle egg!”You challenged out as you raced over to the bathroom stalls, the mutant turtle schoffing and charging after you.

With a little bit of magic, you were able to think up your very own pirate outfit with a second band around your wrist so that you could switch it off and on with ease. Leo picked the same outfit he had when he first came to the pirate utopia with Hueso, but didn’t pick an eyepatch this time since he didn’t want to trip in front of you. 

You quickly raced out of the changing room after saying thank you to the worker who helped you and looked around, your eyes trying to find the mutant turtle in the crowd. You spotted the long strands of his bandana and felt yourself shudder at how good he looked in a pirate outfit, how the white shirt clung to him and how he had his sword hung against his side instead of over his back. You swallowed the saliva that was swimming in your mouth and quickly dashed over to him, clearing your throat before you spoke in the worst pirate accent. 

“My, my, isn’t ye the best booty I’ve ever seen in these vast oceans!”

The red slider turtle quickly turned around but you moved out in front of him.

“Aye, wanna shiver me timbers?” You laughed, throwing another one-liner at him and he turned, his eyes going wide as he almost told you that if you were a pirate, you would be the most beautiful treasure that no man or woman could handle or capture. If you were a pirate he could definitely walk the plank. 

“Those jokes are so lame, that they need a peg leg,” he replied, almost hating himself fully for using one of Huesos jokes instead of his own. But you flashed him a smile anyway and motioned him to follow as you made your way through the crowd. 

The teenage turtle felt his heart leap after you and gave chase as you made it to the center of the pirate theme park. 

Once in the middle, you pulled out the map the woman at the booth gave you and started to read over the activities that you could do. 

Leo leaned down close, still a little out of breath, but his confidence had awoken him as he said: “Ya certainly put a shiver in my timber!” he said in a deep pirate accent. You booped his beak away from your face and he blew a raspberry on the index finger.

“So, there is a treasure adventure we can go on, a booth section of stuff to buy, a pirate show of a reenactment of pirate history-Oh! They have timed dances throughout the area! And you can join in!” 

“Are you going to join in?”

“Maybe. I could finally dance with someone who doesn’t only do fortnite dances and dabs.”

“Hey, my moves are almost like a work of a pirate ship.”

“Old and needs remodeling?”

“What?! No! Unique and cool.”

You rolled your eyes and wrapped your arm around Leo’s and led him to the show since it was the closest. 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You stood on the pier as ships and flying creatures dashed by, the glowing lights of the underworld turning into a creamy orange to signify that the day was coming to an end. You leaned your arms over the railing as you scrolled through the photos that had been taken throughout the day. You couldn’t help but smile at seeing your goofy pictures and would scroll past the ones you took specifically of Leo without him knowing. 

Speaking of the turtle, he leaned in close to your shoulder as he noticed that your attention was not on him.

“Whatcha lookin at?” He asked, his head slowly getting closer. You felt your body grow warm and quickly turned your phone. 

“Bruh,” you giggled and he gave a quiet chuckle and tried to snatch the phone. 

“If you’re looking at something, then as your best friend I have a right to see.”

“Fine, hang on.”

You quickly saved the single photos of him into a secret file and moved the phone between them, his head still on your shoulder as he scrolled through the photos, both of you laughing at the one where you fought the pirates and failed. 

“What about you? I know you took photos of today for your social,” you commented as you placed your phone into your bag. 

Leo took out his phone and hid it out of sight since his home screen was a picture of them together at an abandoned skatepark and he had you in a piggyback ride and he just had to capture the moment. He handed his phone without thinking and started to go through your bag due to boredom.

You scrolled through the photos until you stopped at a specific one. You didn’t remember him telling you to pose for this photo; it was when you had stopped to eat dinner and you happened to watch one of the kids getting a fake pirate hook from a vendor. Your head was supported by your hand as a breeze caused your hair to ripple around your face in an alluring photo. A blush rushes to your face as if you had been hit and soon you started to scroll faster and found more photos of just you; of you waiting in line, in your pirate outfit, several were taken of you during the pirate treasure hunting, when you grabbed a candle from one of the booths in excitement, he even got a cliche photo of you holding his hand while you led him through the crowd. 

You felt your heart stop in your ribcage and looked over at the ninja turtle, who was still looking through your bag as if he was hunting for treasure. You didn’t want to snoop, but you couldn’t help but exit out of his camera roll and looked through his folders on the right side; there was a folder for comic books, shopping, epic moments, even a puns list, then found it at the bottom. It was labeled with a first letter of your name and a heart, and with twitching fingers, you opened it. It wasn’t many photos but enough to where you almost dropped his phone into the water below. There were pictures of you whenever you both hung out, and some he probably got from your social. 

Holy Hot Soup, he liked you.  

“Okay, now you really look like you have a fever,” Leo commented as he reached for his phone, causing you to swallow and quickly turned off the device and handed it back to him.

“But don’t worry, Doctor Neon Leon will help you get all better,” he said in a baby voice and wrapped his arm around you and brought you close. 

“Maybe you need some Vitamin ME,” he whispered and you laughed at yet another ridiculous one-liner made by him. He grinned at the sight of you laughing and rested himself against your side, taking in your scent and warmth. 

“Maybe I do, where do I get my prescription Aka Kamon?” You asked slyly, a shit eating grin on your face as Leo blushed. Whenever you could, you would fire back a one-liner and was overjoyed to see him be the one to get flustered and a stuttering mess. 

“ Oh, um, well,” he stuttered and mentally kicked himself as he couldn’t think of something to say back and then a question he always wanted an answer to.

“Are you ever going to tell me what those words mean?” He asked. 

“Are you ever going to open a book and find out for yourself.”

“Ha! Jokes on you, I don’t know how to read. And also, there are phones now, boomers.”

“Then look it up.”

“JuSt GiVe Me A hInT.”

You released a sigh and gave him a look while he returned to you his huge puppy dog eyes look and placed his hands together as his bottom lip wobbled as if he was trying to get out of trouble. 

“Finnnne, but only because it’s our best friend’s day.”

You poked the red stripe against his face and then pointed upward, a smirk growing on your face as he gave a confused one.

“WHAT KIND OF HINT IS THAT??”

“A pretty good one in my opinion.”

The red slider turtle let out a large groan as he crossed his arms, his face growing tight as he tried to think of what the hint meant. 

“Are you just calling me stripes but in Japanese?” He said with a groan. 

“Leo you insult me, it would be kind of stupid to call you stripes in both English and Japanese.”

He mimicked your talking right as you finished and he received an eye roll as he continued on thinking.

 So, it wasn’t the stripes, maybe the color? Or the shape?

“Man, this is hurting my brain, this best friend day sucks.” He said as he stuck his tongue out at you.

“Okay, okay. The two words are a color and a shape. Is that better?”

“Yes. Yes it is.”

You continued to watch as Leo tried to put the pieces together and you wished you could get this on video, but it would be too obvious, so instead you painted it into your mind. 

“So, the color is totally red, but the shape I’m lost at. Why did you point at the sky? Is that a clue? Why did you make this so difficult?”

“Because I’m a difficult person.”

“I do like a challenge.”

“One more hint, it’s the shape of something in the sky.”

Leo looked up at the fake Lost City sky and squinted as the fake sun started to set and the moon would start to rise. 

“Red Moon?”

“Close. It’s Red Crest.”

The blue bandana turtle searched the horizon for an answer for why you called him that as you looked away due to embarrassment. 

“Why?” He simply asked as he looked over; he could always tell when you were nervous, your eyes would always dart around and your left foot would start to shake. You rose to a tallen stance though and looked over at his hands.

“I just find your marks...alluring. In Japanese culture, the red moon is respected due to its power. I just thought you deserved to have a nickname that represented you.”

Leo felt his face go completely red that it could put Raph’s mask to so much shame that it would go bland. All this time he thought you were just calling him something insulting in Japanese, but it was a nickname that you made up for him. Not like Raph’s, Donnie’s, Mikey’s or April’s, it was one you made up for him and only him. 

“Stop looking at me before I throw you off this dock so I can live the rest of my life without this embarrassment,” you laughed nervously as your fingers combed through your hair and let out a shaky breath. 

Leo started to get his little shakes as he let out a confused laugh. 

“All this time I thought you were calling me a stupid turtle or somethin in Japanese, whoa oh boy was I wrong.”

You both looked away from each other and the atmosphere became heavy. 

Maybe I shouldn’t have said that, I still don’t know, you thought, but then you felt his finger poke your elbow and looked over at him, and the soft expression on his face almost made you melt.

“But how can I stop looking at you?”

Your breathing immediately hitched.

“Are you blushing? It’s a good feeling to know that I do it.”

You could only cover your face as you leaned against the railing on your elbows and looked between your fingers at him. You hated being so flustered up, but with Leo dripping with confidence, it made you want to curl into a muttering mess. 

Leo watched you with amusement and went to touch you, but then fell back. He remembered how he started the physical touch between you two, holding your hand, always leaning on you, every movie night you would be his cushion. But you two couldn’t kiss, couldn’t cudde too close, he couldn’t tell you he loved you more than just a best friend.  

 He hated how the day went by so fast and now he wanted to do what he has wanted to do for months. But he couldn’t work up the courage, he had a ton of one-liners to ask you out, to ask if you returned the feelings, even though he was mutant turtle that lived in the sewer and fought enemies that could destroy the whole world and wholly Ōdachi he can’t ask you to be a part of that life. 

But, the way you would smile at him and how you always gave him credit for the growth into someone you wanted to be. How you saw something in him that he didn’t even see, and he wanted to keep being whatever you saw. 

He just wanted you.

So, he worked up the courage, tried to make the sweat stop rolling down his body, and looked at person he had fallen for

“Y/N.” 

You tensed up, you had never heard Leo sound so serious in his life. 

“Yeah?” 

“With this being.....I mean if I’m wrong. Would you consider this a date-date?” He spilled out, and he wanted to climb into his shell like Mikey and never come out. He let out a gust of air and didn’t look over at you, his fingers messing within each other. It was silent between you, the city life buzzing around them as yokai’s came and went. You wanted to scream out in joy and say yes a hundred times, but you also had to be careful, along with if Leo was being a bubbly mess, you wanted to take advantage of it as long as you could. 

Spotting a red and blue flower with a bright yellow center growing on the side of the deck, you wrapped your fingers around it and pulled it from its roots. To Leo’s surprise, you pushed your way under his arm until it was back over your shoulders. The blush on his face was noticeable and with being against his chest you noticed his uneven breaths. 

“I do. And I would like more of them, if you want to.” You answered and handed him the flower. He shakenly took the flower in his hand and his confidence came crashing back to him, knowing that the feeling was mutual. As quickly as you gave him the flower he leaned over and placed the flower over your ear. Your eyes widened with surprise and quickly averted them away, a nervous but sweet chuckle escaping your lips. But the Red-eared slider never averted his gaze away from you. 

“I would like that too,” he answered back. 

You both stood there for a while, your head curled into Leo’s chest as his own head rested on yours. You were used to being close, but this was different, this filled you up with knowing and it made the physical connection much more warmer and scarier. Little lights started to flicker around as the city started to get dark, even with no sun or moon. Leo brought you closer and buried his face into your hair, a long sigh escaping his lips in content, his mind slowing down for once and just taking in this moment.

 But the moment went quicker than expected as a low yawn escaped your mouth and the red slider turtle remembered that it was getting late. 

“Alright, sleepy head, I think it’s time to raise anchor and set sail for home,” he joked as he lifted himself off of you and then held out his hand. With a roll of your eyes, you gladly took it and let him lead you back to the entrance of the Pirate Bazaar. He could just use his sword, but he wanted to juice out every moment with you.

The hand hold was different in some way, you gripped his hand tighter and when he came to a stop you would use your other hand to lightly touch his biccup before continuing on. 

You gave the booth teller their costume bracelets back and walked a few feet ahead before Leo pulled out his sword and created a portal. 

He once again bowed his head as he moved to the side. 

“After you.”

Through tired eyes she gave him a smirk as she was halfway through the portal. 

“Thank you.” 

He followed you through the portal and took the step onto your apartment’s fire escape, the flashing lights of New York City spilling over your side as you opened your bedroom window;  throwing your bag inside before turning to Leo. You both turned to each other and then quickly averted eye-contact with each other. 

“I had a lot of fun today, Leo. Thanks for being a good fri-” you stopped yourself since you didn’t know if you two were still just friends, or more.

He let out a laugh and rubbed the back of his neck. 

“Yeah, chief, it was,” Leo said  and then let out a groan at the terrible execution.

 You knew that you had to make the first move now or else you both would accidentally place yourselves into the “friend zone”.

 “Leo, can you bend down a little bit?”

“Why? Tired of being the only short one?”

“You can say that.”

He bent down till he was on your level, a smug smile on his lips. You let out your form of a chuckle as you curved your fingers under his chin. The teenage turtle instantly felt weak in the knees and thought that his legs would give out from under him and became a stuttering mess as you both made eye-contact. 

“Um, haha, is it hot or did you know that, uhh,” he mumbled as you tilted his head to the side and placed a small kiss against his red stripe, instantly making his whole body, for once in his life, burning. 

Your lips were soft against his skin and he stood there as you leaned away and climbed back into your room. 

“Goodnight, Leo,”you mumbled, your hands shaking against the window. 

“N-night.”

You closed the window and walked away while Leo stood there, his mind racing a hundred miles an hour. He got a kiss from you, from you. He never felt so much adrenaline rush through his body and all he wanted to do was go back in time so he could’ve moved his lips over. 

He took a step towards the window and then took that step back. What should he do? What could he do? Were you both dating now? Or were you two at the very edge of the line of a relationship?

He wanted to call his brothers or April for advice, especially since she would slap some sense into him. His shakes were coming back.

He let out a grunt and rubbed his eyes as he tried to decide what to do. He looked back at the window and saw that you had turned on your lights. He walked up to the window and knocked.

You had just gotten out of the bathroom when you heard the light tap against your window and your heart started to race faster than it already was. You were already shaken up by having enough courage to kiss him but if that was him then what if he didn’t want the kiss?

The knock came again and you took a few deep breaths before you moved the curtain aside and there he was, his face all flustered up as he gave a small wave as she opened the window. 

“Yes?” You questioned as you leaned your hands over the window seal. You hoped that the silky night of the sky hid your flustered face.

“I honestly didn’t think this far ahead,” he spilled out as he let out a nervous laugh as he leaned against the window. 

You looked up at him and Leo blinked several times in wonderment at the startled expression that crossed your face. Leo took a deep breath and gave you his signature shit-eating grin.

“Knock knock.”

“Wow, you’re doing jokes in the same place now are ya?”

“Just do the joke.”

You giggled and fluttered your eyes mockingly at him.

“Can I who?”

“Who’s there?

“Can I?”

“Can I...Can I kiss you?”

Even though it was a terrible joke, you felt like you could throw up all of your guts for how fast your heart rate was. Kissing him on the cheek was a challenge but at least you didn’t have to worry about his lips against yours. Do turtles have lips? Or beaks?

The word yes slipped out before you had a second thought. 

Before you knew it, Leo’s hands were slipping into your own, the tip of your fingers shaking but Leo reinsured you with a stroke of his thumb  You looked up at him and was taken aback at how handsome he was, how his stripes glowed in the moonlight and his blue bandana flew behind him as he leaned down. 

Oh you were glad he didn’t have his lips puckered or drool hanging out of his mouth like in the cartoons. 

Swallowing any other signs of panic that were trying to build in your body as you leaned in. 

The city of New York continued on around you both as the kiss ended; it was soft and sweet, not a full one, but it left both of you speechless. You felt as if your stomach was falling apart and Leo thought he could slip off the stairway. He was still holding your hands before you both departed, but with your free hands, you grabbed his face and brought him in once again. The red slider turtle’s eyes went wide as moons as this kiss much more, more than he could ever dream of. 

He wrapped his arms around your waist and slightly lifted you up, burying his face into yours under the moonlight. He tangled himself around you as your hands wrapped around his neck and Leo felt his stomach flip at the actions. Your shirt was warm against his chest and he tried to focus in on that instead of the worry of messing this up. He leaned more down as his hand slipped into the back of your neck. Due to the lack of experience, the kiss was sloppy and messy and anxiety swam between the connection between the two of you. 

But it was a tender memory of a kiss between the two of you, to remember as your first. 

You both finally separated, your chest heaving as you tried to get your feelings under control. His arms were still wrapped around you and your hands had slipped down onto his plaston, the hard material rising and falling under your fingers. Leo felt himself lean back, the shock setting in that he just had his first kiss and it was that deep and romantic and that….

The teen turtle felt his shell bump against the railing and you quickly latched onto him to stop him from falling, a horse laugh coming out of your mouth. 

“Guess you can say that you’re falling for me?” You asked, Leo knew now that he had to have a fever for how hot his face felt. He let out a few breathless laughs as he tried to calm himself down, longing and fear still lingering in his heart. 

All he could do was pull you into a hug and whisper out, “I just want to stay here and kiss and hold you and Y/N I can't feel my heart.”

He buried himself into your neck as he once again slightly picked you up, hoping that your warm body would calm him down, but the organ in his chest raced on as you hugged him back, your arms barely going around his shell. 

“Leo, will you be my boyfriend?”

My boyfriend. My boyfriend. My boyfriend. My boyfriend.

The words rang in his head like chimes as he slightly pulled away to look at her, the harsh blush on her face giving him an ego boost as he grinned at her. 

“Being called a boyfriend, eh? Neon Leon already has so many cool names, but boyfriend is probably the best name to be called, especially if it’s only you saying it.”

“Probably? I guess I should just give the boyfriend title to someone else, then.”

“What?! No, no, no. I already called it, I’m your boyfriend capiche? Now come here.” He pulled you into a tight hug and gave you a little spin, a laugh escaping your throat as you held on.

“Leo! We can fall, and my back cannot handle cement like yours!” 

[aewhore]

hello can i request a kenny omega smut where the reader and kenny are out and the reader is being very bratty and when they go home kenny punishes her and makes the reader call him ‘sir’ :) thank you ❤️❤️

The King of Pro wrestling! Kenny Omega x reader (NSFW)  

 (Request for @kennysquads !!

love you by, I hope you love this!!)

Sitting backstage at dynamite was always exciting no matter how many times you did it. Listening in as Kenny, Don and the good brothers run through their upcoming segment gives you a fascinating insight into the work side of your fiance Kenny Omega. He had this dominant, powerful aura as he listened to Don talk about what an amazing wrestler he was and how he was the king of pro wrestling, you liked the sound of that. Your man is no normal world champion, he’s a king. You move your hand from your lap to Kenny’s, squeezing his muscular thigh before starting to gently massage your way up towards his groin. Your wandering hand is interrupted by Kenny’s when he grabs it suddenly. “Watch it doll, daddy’s working” his low, rough voice makes you smirk as you realise you’re getting him worked up.  “Oh I’m sorry, I just can’t keep my hands off my big strong King.” you fake pout at Kenny.  He tightens his grip on your hand before turning his attention back to Don. He moves his hand that’s holding your own to your lap before He releases your hand to rest it on your thigh, he returns to the conversation with the good brothers. Your newly freed hand jumps back into action as you move your hand to lightly touch Kenny’s forearm before you move it up to his strong biceps, you can’t help but grab at the tight muscle underneath his soft dress shirt. Kenny’s grip on your thigh tightened as his bicep tensed under your touch, you smiled at how even after years of being together Kenny still felt the need to show off to you.  

You move closer to Kenny so that your head rested on his shoulder, your lips just ghosting the back of his ear. “Do you need me to prove my loyalty to you, Your Highness? Or should I call you my King?” You were smiling as you could feel the anger in Kenny rise. “Doll. I’m warning you.” You roll your eyes at Kenny’s blunt responses. “I thought being a king made you fair, you’re not being very fair to me daddy.” you move your hand from Kenny’s bicep to his chest, slightly playing with the buttons on his shirt. Kenny allows your hands to roam for a little longer before he grabs onto it. “Careful Y/N, You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into Princess.” Kenny warned you but that only made your sly smile grow even more. “I think I can handle it, your highness.” You feel Kenny’s hand grip onto your own before Don interrupts. “Showtime Boys, let's get to guerilla position so the champion can be where he belongs, centre stage!” He turns on the spot and walks to the door with the good brothers. Kenny drops your hand and stands to follow Don before turning back to you. “When I get back here, you are not to say a word, we return to our hotel room and I shall deal with you then.” He towers over you as he awaits your response. “Yes, daddy.” He smirks, “Good girl” He leaves the room swiftly after. You breathe out a breath that you didn’t realise you were holding in when the door closed behind Kenny and his entourage. 

The ride back to the hotel was a quick and tense one as Kenny was pissed off from being hit by Kingston and nearly laid out by Christian. He had an iron grip on your hand as Don was yapping in his ear about how wonderful he was and how those guys don’t hold a candle to him. Although Kenny’s heavy breathing implies that he isn’t listening to uncle Donny. Once you all pull up to the hotel, Kenny drags you through the lobby and into the elevator. When the silver doors of the elevators closed in front of you, Kenny pulled you so you stood with your back tightly to his chest. His arms were locked around your waist. “When we get to our room, you are to strip immediately and lay on the bed, on your back with your legs open like the little slut you are.” You gasp at Kenny’s instructions, heat settling in your pelvis. “Do you understand doll?” Kenny was nearly growling into your ear at this point. “Yes sir” Your voice comes out as a slight whine but Kenny seems to be content with your answer as he leans back against the elevator wall and waits for you both to arrive at your floor. 

Walking to your room caused excitement and nerves to grow in the pit of your stomach. Kenny opens the door and allows you to enter first. You both slip off your shoes as you rush to the edge of the bed where you strip out of your clothes as fast as you can. As you climb onto the bed to settle on your back you see Kenny has taken off his jacket and has rolled his dress shirt sleeves up to his elbows. You subtly bite your lip as you drink in Kenny’s dominant appearance. Kenny walks from the doorway over to the side of the bed. “Hands above your head baby.” You follow Kenny’s order and raise your hands towards the bed’s wooden headboard. Kenny pulled a necktie from his back pocket and began to tie your outstretched hands to the headboard. Once he was finished tying your wrists, he took a small step back to take in your nude, bound form. “Aren’t you sight for sore eyes?” Kenny said more to himself than to you. Kenny stepped back towards the bed and kneeled on the edge of the bed beside you. He raised his hand to gently cup your cheek and smirked when you nuzzled into his palm. He traces your bottom lip with his thumb before slowly pushing his thumb into your mouth, you curl your tongue around his thumb as you gently suck on it. He pulls his thumb from your mouth and begins to move his hand down your neck, to your chest where he sharply pinched your nipple causing you to cry out at the sudden pain. “Quiet” Kenny growls as he continues to pinch and toy with your nipples until they are sensitive and hardened. 

Once he was satisfied with toying with your tits he continued to move his hand down your body, lightly grasping at your waist and hips. He retracts his hand before it moves between your legs. A low whine escapes your throat. Kennys moves with lightning speed as pinches your nipple again. “I said quiet doll, I don’t like to repeat myself.” You whine. “I’m sorry sir” You bite your lip to hold in your squeal. Kenny’s hand retreats again as he reaches behind him to grab a bottle of lube off of the bedside table. He opens the bottle and pours some onto his fingertips. Before returning the bottle to the table. He moves his hand down between your legs where he allows some of the lube to drip onto your awaiting pussy, you quietly gasp at the cool lube making contact. Kenny uses his middle and forefinger to rub the lube through your folds before rubbing tight circles onto your clit. You were choking back your moans as Kenny relentlessly rubbed circles on your clit. Kenny’s other hand moves to toy with your nipples. “Let me hear your slutty little moans baby, let this whole floor know who makes you feel this good.” You stop biting your lip immediately and allow your moans to flow freely from your mouth. The coil in your pelvis tightens and tightens and Kenny reduces you to a moaning mess. “Do you want to cum baby?” You frantically nod as words fail you. “Well, you should have thought about that earlier when you acted like a slutty little brat.” Kenny snarls as he takes his hands away from you leaving you on the edge of orgasm but not giving you the satisfaction of cumming.  

“Please sir, please I need to- I need to cum, please.” You beg Kenny but to no avail. ”You will cum when I allow you to cum, until then you will take what I give you. If you’re a good girl, I might let you cum, if not then you won’t be allowed to cum for a week and you’ll have to watch me get myself off. Am I understood doll?” Kenny’s voice makes you squirm with need, you need to cum and only Kenny can give you the relief you need. “Yes, Sir I understand.”  Kenny breaks out into a big smile. “Good girl.” Kenny moves so he is kneeling between your legs. His hands grasping your knees before roaming up your thighs and back again. Your back starts to slightly arch off the bed before one of Kenny’s hands comes down to rest on your pelvis, pushing you back against the mattress. Kenny leans back onto his heels, removing both his hands from your body and settling his hands onto his thighs. “You’re such a little slut for me aren't you doll, look at this pretty little pussy. I can’t wait to be balls deep in you, fucking you like the whore you are.” Kenny’s vulgar words have moans flowing from your mouth and you can feel your pussy throbbing, clenching around nothing. Kenny unbuttons his pants and slowly pulls down his fly. You bite your lip in anticipation of seeing Kenny’s hard cock. He reaches into his briefs to pull his cock out, not even bothering to remove any of his clothes. His cock was throbbing hard and leaking with precum. He jerked his cock a few times in his fist spreading the precum down his shaft. He moved towards you. He slid his cock along your folds, teasing your clit with the tip of his cock. His hands move from his cock to your hips. Your moans built-in volume as Kenny began to enter your hole. You screamed when Kenny completely thrust into you, stretching you out and giving you no time to adjust as he started a toe-curling pace. “Fuck, you take me so well doll, god you’re so tight, my little cum slut, oh my god, yes, you’re my fuck toy” Kenny’s grip on your hips was so tight you knew it would leave bruises but you didn’t care. You were too focused on trying not to cum but Kenny was making that incredibly difficult as his cock stretched you perfectly, hitting your G spot with every thrust and had you biting your lip so hard the coppery taste of blood trickled into your mouth. Kenny slightly lifted your hips off the mattress and the new angle had your eyes rolling into the back of your head. “God look at you, you look like a bitch in heat, Fuck your nothing more than a little cumslut” Kenny somehow quickened his pace making tears form in your eyes before they streamed down your cheeks at the never-ending edging and overstimulation. Kenny’s thrusting began to falter as he was nearing an orgasm of his own. “Does my little cock sleeve want me to cum in her?” Kenny moved so you were now chest to chest with him speaking directly into your ear. “Yes sir, please use me as your cum rag, sir please!” You damn near scream before Kenny moves his hand from your hip to your neck to grip onto your throat. “Then cum for me doll,” he said as he tightens his grip on your throat. You cum immediately, the brief shortage of oxygen giving you the most euphoric orgasm you’ve ever had. Your vision going completely white as Kenny fucks you through your orgasm. He gives a few more deep thrusts before he cums deep inside of you, painting your walls with white ribbons of hot cum.   

“You still with me doll?” Kenny asks after collapsing onto you. “Hmm, yeah I’m here daddy.” You mumble back, your arms straining against your restraints, wanting to hold Kenny. Kenny reaches up and unties your hands, helping you to lower your arms as the muscles were still tense. “You did so well baby, you’re so perfect. I love you so much.” Kenny punctuated his words with kisses to your face and neck as a smile broke out onto your face and your heart warmed at his adoring words and actions. Kenny moved to pull out his now softening cock causing you to whine and wrap your arms around Kenny pulling him back into you. “What are you doing doll?” You tried to hide your blushing face in Kenny’s neck but he wouldn’t allow it, holding your chin in his hand so you had to make eye contact with him. “I was hoping... You would stay in me... All night.” Kenny’s worried face was replaced by a relieved one before his eyes fluttered shut for a moment. “Jesus doll, you’re trying to kill me. Of course, we can do that, you can have my cock whenever and however you want. How about a shower first though? Or would you rather daddy drew you a nice, warm bath?” You smiled knowing your daddy was going to spoil you all night long. “A bath please daddy.” Kenny nodded before he wrapped your legs around his waist and lifted you off the bed, walking towards the bathroom. You smiled into Kenny’s neck, maybe being a brat had its perks.

[asklittlepip]

And yes, I do mean madness.

The rest is below the cut, because this is long as hell rambling...

Tell me, how else do you describe somebody thinking that not only are their political opponents drinking blood, but that it’s also from babies they stole or even aborted for that sacrifice. Who think that Trump is actually blessed by and sent by God. Who literally pray to him and collect idols of him. Who thought that JFK Jr. was going to come back to life or out of hiding or some shit and would become Donny’s VP. Even though Trump was also somehow still President because fake election and Biden was an imposter as well?

Almost every single conspiracy, no matter how outlandish, no matter how many times it was disproven, taken as gospel. 5G WiFi and windmills cause cancer. Vaccines, not just the COVID one, cause autism or give you AIDS and worse. All of them. Every Democrat, liberal, or anti-Trumper is also SOMEHOW being paid off. Including me. All of it.

They believe this. I have asked.

Yes, I also asked them about the supposed “Soros Bucks”, and they insisted it was how I paid my expenses, not my, you know, disability that I’ve had for decades long before all of this.

...

How the fuck is that not a cult of madness? At what goddamn point do you have to cross before you consider it obsession? And I have to deal with several family members who are now like this! Of course, they aren’t vaccinated, refuse to mask up, and continue to join in large indoors groups with those who take zero precautions as well. Not like I’m vulnerable when they’re around, or my mother, no. I should just shrug and act like it’s no big deal, right?

And I can’t just refuse to see them because it’d kill my mother, as it’s related to her thrice-weekly dialysis and.. additional details that are private and none of your goddamn business. So, no, I can’t ignore this.

It’s easy to dismiss when you aren’t living with this shit. Get back to me when someone you love puts a complete stranger above all else, even their own sick children, who are being endangered by their behavior. Someone who has lifetime issues with pneumonia, is a smoker, and has heart failure thanks to also having Marfan’s Syndrome..

Naw, I shouldn’t fucking worry that she’s refusing to take precautions against a plague that attacks the lungs and is known to cause cardiac damage. Who wasn’t like this until Trump, and who, let me be fucking clear, literally praises as though he were a deity. Yet, never acted this way before and was even a skeptic of such nonsense before 2016..

It’s only my older sister. And brother-in-law. And their kids, my niece and nephew whom I love deeply and are having these choices made for them. And even more, but at least they’re far away and not AS bad; but are you suggesting I should just.. not care? It’s so easy to not care, isn’t it?

Fuck that!

Meanwhile, I’ll go comfort my father over another person he knows.. used to know.. who’s having a funeral because they believed they didn’t need a vaccine, even as it shut down their lungs. They did, however, believe in Trump and his anti-malarial and horse dewormer instead. Oh yeah, and before they passed, they infected their wife, who also died, and then his brother killed himself in grief over losing them both.

But “it’s not a cult.” You just know more because you do. More than those who’ve been in them before, and see the patterns too. We’re stupid.

I’m done. Try not to become the next statistic. Bye.

[jiejie-eonni-onee-sama]

Severed blood ties...

A gift for the dear @sergeant-donny-donowitz​

Hope you will​ enjoy the story...

France, 1945.

Tied to a chair, Hans Landa, the infamous "Jew Hunter," furiously glanced at his jailers. The enemies he vowed to bring down were the ones who finally defeated him. Those men who the German troops nicknamed "The Basterds" put an end to the Nazi regime, stopping the war in the process.

Holding his head up, he arrogantly said:

"May I guess that you're happy, Lieutenant Raine?"

"Ya bet I am! It's been a long time since I wanna catch ya! And here ya are!"

Landa has a rictus.

"You pretend to be a hero, but we both know that you are only a redneck murderer from Maynardville!"

"Lieutenant, do ya want me to make him shut up?" asked Donny as he held his prized baseball bat.

"It would be very distracting, indeed!" smirked Wicki as he lighted his cigarette.

"Na, not now, guys!" answered Raine.

The Apache turned to the Nazi and explained:

"To answer ya question, Hans, you don't stop a war without getting yer hands dirty, right? After all, you are an expert in this field..."

"Unlike you, I don't kill people..."

"Not directly. But every time you're somewhere, it's like a death sentence!"

"I return you the compliment, Lieutenant Raine!" snarled Landa.

Utivitch raised an eyebrow.

"Is it just me or Landa seem mad at us?"

"I share your impression, Private," stated Hicox.

Stiglitz glared at their prisoner with all the hate he had. For the deserter of the S.S, Landa was the epitome of what he loathed the most.

"Why can't we kill him on the spot?" he growled.

"The orders are the orders, Hugo: the general staff wants him alive," answered Omar.

"What a shame!" scoffed Hirschberg.

"Anyway! Now, I would like to know why he seems pissed!" asked Sakowitz.

"Don't bother! He would never tell us..." scoffed Zimmerman.

"Okay, who dared drink his beer?" jokingly asked Kagan, making his comrades laugh.

However, this joke pissed off Hans, who snapped:

"You EXACTLY know what you've done!"

All the Basters stayed silent, surprised by Landa's outburst.

Wicki replied:

"Apart from screwing your plans up and killing your men, I really don't see what you are talking about..."

"Killing! What an appropriate word for your biggest crime against me, Private Wicki."

Annoyed, Donny roared:

"WHADDYA TELL US WHAT WE HAVE DONE, PRECISELY?"

"Calm down, Donny, calm down!" said Omar.

"Okay, Landa... What pisses you off right now?"

The S.S officer found his calm composure and asked:

"Do you remember Captain (Y/N) (L/N)?"

"Captain (Y/N) (L/N)... It rings a bell to me..." muttered Utivitch.

"This guy was one of the youngest captains of the Wehrmacht. A lot of people said he was a brilliant officer and a capable leader," explained Hugo.

"Sergeant Stiglitz is right. According to MI6 files, the young Captain (L/N) quickly rose to the top. He excelled both at his exams and at his missions. Even the Führer held him up as an example..." added Hicox.

"I got it! Was it not the guy we met in Italy during our mission over there, two years ago?" inquired Zimmermann.

"That's right! It was the young Kraut captain who fought us near Milan! Hell, we struggled to save our skins!" exclaimed Sakowitz.

"A brave boy, I admit. Crazy, but brave." nodded Raine.

"Tell me if I am wrong, Landa, but you hold a grudge against us because of this boy?" asked Wicki.

"Why? Because he was your boyfriend?" snickered Hugo.

"HE WAS MY SON!" exploded Landa.

When they heard that, all the Basterds screamed:

"WHAAAAAAT?"

"(Y/N) (L/N) was ya boy?" asked Raine.

Fuming with rage, the Jew Hunter sighed:

"Yes, he was. (Y/N) was my only child."

"But you don't share the same last name." pointed out Sakowitz.

"He took his mother's name when he entered the army to avoid any accusation of nepotism."

"Okay... So, all you have done against us until now... was only to avenge your boy?" inquired Omar.

"Your judgment is remarkable, Private Ulmer!" said ironically Landa.

"Don't be a smartass, Landa! Maybe the general staff wants you alive, but we can have fun until we arrive in the United States!" snapped Stiglitz.

"Would you dare wound a defenseless opponent, Sergeant? I know it is your modus operandi, but still..."

"If I were you, I would keep my mouth shut. Because my dear friend Donny here would like to bash your skull like a baseball!"

"Ya bet I do!"

"Calm down, boys!"

Suddenly, Landa heard a door opening behind him and a young masculine voice saying:

"My apologizes for being late, Lieutenant Raine."

"Don't worry, boy. We just chat with our guest."

Puzzled, Landa asked:

"Who is it?"

Smirking, Hicox replied:

"In your defense, Landa, you could not know our dear friend here. He prefers working in the shadows... Such a humble boy!"

"I am flattered by your compliment, Lieutenant Hicox." replied the newcomer.

Trying to see who is talking, Hans scoffed:

"And why is he here? Is he going to torture me too?"

Much to his surprise, the newcomer replied in perfect German:

"Nein, dafür bin ich nicht hier. Es wäre Zeitverschwendung!" (No,  that's not what I am here for. It would be a waste of time!)

Impressed, Landa replied with a smirk on his lips:

"Du sprichst Deutsch wie ein Einheimischer..." (You speak German like a local...)

"Das liegt daran, dass ich in Österreich geboren wurde." (That's because I was born in Austria) replied the mysterious young man as he walked to Landa.

This voice sounded familiar to Landa, but he cannot tell where he did hear it. But this accent... He was sure he heard it before!

"Wer bist du?" (Who are you?)

"Du weißt wer ich bin ... Vater." (You know who I am ... father.) replied the young man as he sat in front of Landa.

When he saw the face of the person he was speaking to, the Jew Hunter nearly had a heart attack.

"(Y/N)..."

"Himself, father." replied the young man with a smirk on his lips.

The S.S colonel could not believe it: his flesh and blood was alive! A wave of relief went through his body. But he cannot help but wonder how (Y/N) managed to survive at the hands of the Americans.

Stammering, Hans asked:

"But... But you died! The survivors of your detachment told me that you get killed by Lieutenant Raine!"

"They thought Lieutenant Raine killed me. But the truth is... I faked my death!"

"WHAT?"

Landa could not believe his ears: his son dared betray the army he swore to serve!

"But... How could you do such a crime?"

"Let me return you the question, father. How could you sleep at night while knowing that you send innocent people to their death?"

"That's not the question! You betrayed your army, you dishonored our name..."

The loud slap on his face made him shut up. When he looked at his son's face, he saw a wave of boiling anger in his eyes.

"You thought that I dishonored our name? But look at you: you paraded with this stupid uniform until you crawl in front of the Americans for saving your skin."

"Do not talk about crawling in front of the Americans, boy! You did not act better than I do!"

(Y/N) looked at his father with disdain.

"Maybe. But at least, I redeemed myself by helping the Allies. Did not ask yourself how the Basterds manage to outsmart you?"

Hand stared in amazement as he realized.

"YOU WERE THE MOLE?"

"Bingo, dad. Unfortunately, your loyal lapdog named Hellstrom knew something was wrong and was not far from discovering the truth. It was at this moment I planned to fake my death... with the help of my new friends, of course!" explained the young man while gesturing at the Basterds.

Hans fumed with rage: he hated being outsmarted. But the betrayal of his son was the last straw!

"I can't believe you even dare betray me, your father!"

The icy glare of (Y/N) sent a chill down his spine.

"You're right: you're my father, but only for blood. The fact is you never loved me. You belittled me, pushed me away... All because you wanted me to be your carbon copy. I tried to be the son you wanted me to be, but nothing was enough for the great Hans Landa."

Every word (Y/N) was full of hate and pain, and they hit Landa like a punch.

"But I must admit that you were a great teacher. I've learned a lot from you. Thanks to you, I have learned to speak different languages. With this skill, I can exchange pieces of information with various interlocutors. 

Thanks to you, I mastered the art of deception. Do you want an example? While I gave the pitch of the perfect little Nazi, I helped many Jews escaping from you."

The young man smirked like a predator.

"I have acquired so much from you that I was able to foresee all your comings and goings."

Trying to keep his composure, Hans retorted:

"And you came here just to say that?"

(Y/N) burst into laughter.

"No, dear father... I am here also to say goodbye!"

"Goodbye?"

His son nodded.

"Yes, indeed. Because this touching meeting is our last!"

"What does it mean?"

"The general staff allowed me to see you one last time before your trial... and your move to Nantucket Island. After that, you will never see me again."

(Y/N) shrugged.

"After all, you're not supposed to see me, as I am officially dead!"

He got up and said:

"Now, if you excuse me, Colonel Landa, I have some work to do before we depart for the United States. Enjoy your stay in France!"

(Y/N) went to the exit, followed by the Basterds.

Losing his temper, Hans yelled at him:

"Sure, go away! Anyhow, I have no son!"

(Y/N) turned his head and said:

"As for me, I consider myself as an orphan since my father said Heil Hitler!"

He smirked.

"Besides, (Y/N) (L/N) belonged to the past... as well as (Y/N) Landa. Now, you can call me (Y/N) Raine, like the father I found."

Smiling, Aldo gently ruffled (Y/N)'s hair.

"Come on, kiddo. Time to get home!"

As the door closed in front of him, Hans Landa let out a scream of pain and anger: this time, he lost the war for good. 

And the fatal blow came from his son, who severed their blood ties with his sharp words.

Even him, the great detective, did not see that coming... 

Thanks for the reading!

I hope you enjoy the story!

Your requests are always welcomed here!

Stay safe and see you later! 😘🥰😍

[remmushound]

Curse of the Clan, part 39! @selfindulgenz @scentedcandlecryptid

Somehow, all three brothers ended up at the entrance of TCRI at the same time; Leonardo arrived in a rift, Michelangelo through a gateway, and Raphael on foot. The first thing they all did as collapse into each others arms.

“BROTHERS!” Leonardo cried, burying his face in Raphael’s neck.

“Thanks Draxum!” Michelangelo waved to the gateway as it disappeared, then finally turned to his brothers. “Omigosh Leo!” Michelangelo gasped, taking Leonardo hands in his as he looked over the state of his brother; feet wrapped up in bandages, clothes soaked, bags under his eyes, “What happened to you?”

“What happened to me?” Leonardo scoffed, “What happened to Raph?”

Raphael was the worst off of the brothers, still covered in drying mud and quickly healing wounds. His mask was more brown than red!

“Uh. I kinda got in a fight with a dragon.” Raphael breathed, rubbing the back of his neck, “Er. You?”

“I met a samurai! And also, I’m never having kids. Miguel?”

“I met a really nice woman who danced with me and disobeyed her superiors!” Michelangelo smiled brightly, “Did you guys get your blessings?”

“Heck yeah! Check it!” Leonardo smiled as he flashed his odachi for them all to see.

“Ohhh~” Raphael and Michelangelo gawked as one, and then Raphael added, “Nice work! But check mine out!”

He pulled out his tonfa and tossed them into the air before catching them again and giving a power-punch at the air; then he let his brothers admire them completely.

“Wow!” Michelangelo’s eyes were like stars.

“Not bad!” Leonardo whistled.

“Oh! Oh! Look at mine!” Michelangelo held out his weapon and showed it off to his brothers proudly.

“Nice craftmanship!” Leonardo complimented, “Your new friend did good!”

“I know!” Michelangelo hugged his weapon tightly. “Has either of you heard from Donnie?”

“Dude, we just got here.” Leonardo snickered.

“Exactly!” Raphael wrapped his arms around his brothers and pushed them through the revolving doors and into TCRI. “Come on mad dogs! Let’s go get our—“

“WOAH! What happened here?” Leonardo jumped up, wrapping his arm around Raphael’s neck and dangling there while he pointed out the destruction before them. Part of the ceiling was caved in, a few bullet holes trailed across the wall, and blood and dust that Bishop’s employees were hard at work trying to clean up.

“Look! There’s Bishop!” Michelangelo pointed as he spotted the tall man in the crowd, hissing orders to his subordinates. “And look at the state of him!”

Bishop, just as his building and frantic workers, was in disarray. He was working to try and fix his hair while spitting his commands, but it was no use; the black hair stuck up at all ends, like someone had taken a balloon to ruffle it. There was a deep purple bruise on his face, and his hand was wrapped in a bandage that was clearly already soaked through with blood. Bishop nor his workers seemed to notice or care about the injury; they were simply too frazzled.

“Dude.” Leonardo said loudly— loud enough to make sure Bishop could hear them.

Bishop gasped and looked to them. His mouth fell open as he scanned over each brother in turn as if he couldn’t believe they were all there, all in one peice! His eyes flashed in a momentary fear— or was it anger?— before his splitting smile returned. Leonardo narrowed his eyes as he locked onto that small detail in Bishop’s eyes for however short of a time it lasted.

“You’re back.” Bishop said; he sounded breathless. The suited man reached for his flask to take a drink, and then growled when he found the flask empty. “Just in time…”

“You… got a… a little…?” Leonardo indicated Bishop’s bruised cheek.

“Ah. Yes.” Bishop gave a single chuckle. “We had a little altercation, nothing major. We must hurry if you want to meet your deadline.”

Bishop turned quickly to walk away, not motioning the brothers to follow, so none of them moved.

“What do you mean?” Michelangelo’s beak scrunched up, “We have plenty of time!”

“What?” Leonardo scoffed, “Dude— I’m surprised we all actually made it in time! Those were the looooongest two weeks of my life!”

Michelangelo stared at Leonardo like he was insane and talked slowly. “You mean longest… two days…?”

“No— longest week.” Raphael corrected, “It— it’s been a week, right?”

“No, it’s been two.” Leonardo tried to reason slowly, holding up two fingers.

“Leonardo has it right.” Bishop said without turning around; his arms were folded in the small of his back. “It seems you and Michelangelo have… lost your sense of time.”

Michelangelo frowned. “D… Draxum did say that time moved weird in Renet’s mansion. And Renet did say days…”

“And I don’t remember any of my time in that toxic mist!”

Leonardo gawked. “Toxic mist? Worm hole mansion?! Man— you guys had way more fun than me! All I did was hang out with a rabbit samurai and a clingy badger!”

“Wait— if it’s been two weeks…” Michelangelo said slowly, then gasped as he yanked on Leonardo’s shoulders. “We have to go get Donnie!”

“OW! Careful!” Leonardo winced as he yanked his brother off of him. “My arms are still sore from lugging that cart around for a week.”

“Oops! Sorry Leo…”

Leonardo smirked and wrapped an arm around his brother, no matter how it ached. He aimed his sword to the sky.

“Now let’s go get Donnie— ow ow ow ow— sore arms, sore arms—“

***

Leonardo couldn’t do it. The trees must have been hundreds of feet below him in an unending forest of snowy pines surrounding the mountain. Leonardo gripped anxiously at the parachute strapped to his carapace. They had to jump now, the escort had said. This was the drop point. All Leonardo could see was fast-approaching asphalt as he was tossed from Big Mama’s hotel into a free-fall. Wind stinging his eyes, deafening him. Choking on the very air he would usually breath, but now it was going by so fast he couldn’t catch any of it. He was crying, his body was screaming at him that something was wrong and he knew what was wrong but there was nothing he could about it! He was in the helicopter but he was falling and he was alone—

Michelangelo grabbed Leonardo’s left hand, and Raphael grabbed his right. They both gripped hard and dragged Leonardo back to reality. Leonardo blinked, dismissing tears from his eyes as he gripped his brother’s hands in turn. He tried to smile, but it came out weak and fake as fear gripped him like a cold, frozen claw. Raphael smiled too, but his was more genuine.

“We go on three Leo.” Raphael said.

“And we go together.” Michelangelo smiled, resting his head on Leonardo’s shoulder.

“One.” Raphael rumbled.

“Two!” Michelangelo squeaked.

Leonardo swallowed his fear and his pride. “Three.”

[hyrule-kingdom-updates]

The three of them lay low in the bushes, as the trotting of hooves came closer from the distance. Two soldiers, atop steeds, were talking and moving past the garisson's walls.

They were still a bit of a ways away, where Link could hold his fingers up and squish their figures between his fingers if he moved back the right way...but the soldiers had moved close enough that the winds carried the men’s voices towards where the three of them were hiding.

“I’m just saying, it sounds very out of character!” the soldier atop the black horse exclaimed. Arcadius tried to get a look at their face to identify them, but with their helmets and armour, they looked nearly identical to the soldier beside them atop the chestnut mount.

“I mean, Captain Arcadius?? The Hillside Hero Hartell??? The Knight of the Iron Woods??? The Scar of the Yiga’s Hand?? Does that sound like a traitor to you???”

Link scrunched his eyebrows and frowned at his dad.

“The Battle of Wizzrobe Peak gave you the title, ‘Knight of the Whistling Woods.’ He’s obviously fake fan.”

Arcadius and Mipha hurriedly shushed Link as the two soldiers trotted along, parallel to their bush.

“I don’t care about the circumstances, Donny, what you should be focusing on is the opportunity.” The man eyed something in the distance, but continued talking.

“A great hero has fallen to a villain, and that means it’s an opportunity for a fast track through the ranks. The spot for the kingdom’s new favourite knight is up for grabs, and I’m gonna focus on it.”

The soldier on the black horse, supposedly Donny, bit their cheek. “I mean, his own son is THE Hero. Like, the actual hero.”

“Who turned against the king, yeah.”

“Well I’m just saying, maybe something happened that gave them a valid reason for doing it??” Donny rubbed their horse’s mane. “Heroes don’t just turn evil at the flip of a switch, you know!”

“I don’t know, and I don’t care!” The other soldier cried, exasperated. They went to unclip the bow from their back. “All I care about is capturing them, and finally making a name for myself. Sick of just wasting away at the old ”

“C-Capturing them??!” Donny stuttered in surprise. “I know he said, 'dead or alive' but...Y-You can’t seriously be thinking you can go up against the Captain of the Royal Guard, much less taking them alive, and fully intact can you?! You’re just asking to be their next easy victim! It’d be much safer to just kill them on sight.”

Donny turned the reigns of his horse closer to whisper in their ear.

“I mean...he's dangerous in more than one way. There might be something in the blood....His brother was a killer, you know.”

The other soldier rolled their eyes. (At least, Arcadius assumed, given that they were mostly covered by his helmet)

“All I need is a shot to the legs, and they’re down. And yes, Donny, capturing them alive IS harder, that’s why I aspire to do it. It’ll get me all the more recognition when it’s done.”

“You sure are confident in yourself, Rubeo...” Donny said, patting their horse once more.

“Well someone’s gotta be. Anyway...” Rubeo took an arrow from his quiver nocked it. “I thought I saw a rabbit or something near here...You up for a splitting the snack with me?”

Rubeo aimed the arrow towards the distant bushes, thankfully away from where Larc, Mipha, and Link were hiding.

Arcadius eyes suddenly sparked with recognition.

“Wait...Rubeo?” He shuffled his leg a bit to get a better look at the man, one of the shrubs bended its branches slightly.

Rubeo caught the motion and loosed an arrow in Arcadius’ direction.

It embedded his right hand straight into the ground.

“GAK—!” Larc wanted to scream from the pain, but Mipha suddenly clasped her hand firmly around his mouth to keep him silent, and Link’s eyes went wide with fear. The sound still caused a rabbit from the opposite end of the bunch of bushes to rush off into the wilderness.

“Hm.” Rubeo set his bow down. “Well I thought I heard something, but I guess it wasn’t a rabbit...”

“Maybe a bird?” Donny piped in. “Ohhh dude, I could totally go for wings right now. Morello’s mom made her this most AMAZING breading, and we’ve got to try it out later!”

Rubeo scanned the area where he had fired the arrow, seeing no movement.

The two of them watched the bushes and trees for a moment longer.

“...I think you just missed, man. The sound was probably the wind...” Donny finally said with a sigh. “No wings for us...”

Rubeo frowned. “Maybe...”

In the bushes, Larc was still whimpering from the pain as Mipha tried to keep him quiet. Link wrapped his hands around the arrow’s shaft, unsure of what to do.

“Don’t remove it!” Mipha hissed as quietly and forcefully as she could. “He’s going to cry out if you do. Just wait for them to leave!”

Rubeo removed his helmet, revealing a fluffy bunch of red hair. He clipped his bow back, and set the helmet down, hanging it on one of the belts on his horse’s saddle.

“I’m gonna go find the arrow.”

Link and Mipha whipped their heads to lock eyes with each other.

“Let’s go, Rodent! Tk, tk!” Rubeo hopped off his horse and clicked his tongue to get her to follow him.

“Should I continue patrol?” Donny asked. “Or maybe come with you?”

“Nah, I’ll be fine. You can stay there if you want.” Rubeo waved a hand as Rodent followed after him.

“Just got a weird feeling, is all. But it’s probably nothing.”

[knives-out20]

Inglourious Boyfriends - Part 5

Fandom: Inglourious Basterds (2009)

Pairing: Joshua Margolis (OC) x Lt. Aldo Raine

Word Count: 2272

Warnings: Spoilers For Inglourious Basterds,

Note: Part 5, Lads. Shows How Joshua Is Clever, Meaning He Can Catch Onto Other Peoples’ Ideas Quickly. He’s Also Empathetic, And Is Able To Sway Aldo To Do, Or Stop Doing, Something.

Bridget Von Hammersmark groaned in pain as the needle injected its fluids into her body, fist covering her mouth in a failed attempt to muffle herself.

Aldo walked in, sleeves rolled up to his biceps."Not so goddamn fast, doc. Tell 'im to go play with his dog" he spoke, Donny and Joshua following him inside. Aldo pat the doctor as Hammersmark spoke to him in French, the doctor quickly dropping his equipment and going to sit by PFC Utivich. Aldo turned to Joshua, gently nudging him back to give himself room. He put his hands on the doctors equipment table, wasting no time and pushing it aside harshly, crashing it into the wall. Aldo angrily kicked the small stool the doctor sat on, Joshua taking another step back in fright. 

Donny stood menacingly over Bridget on one side of the table, his back to the barking dogs, as Aldo leaned his arm onto the table, his other hand on his hip.

"Before we yank that slug out ya, you need t'answer a few questions" Aldo said.

"Few questions about what?" She asked, gaze going from Aldo, to Donny, to Joshua.

"About I got three men dead back there. Why don't you try tellin' us what the fuck happened?" Aldo asked.

"The British officer blew his German act and the Gestapo major saw it" Bridget answered.

"Before we get into who shot John, why'd you invite my men to a rendezvous in a basement with a bunch of Nazis?" Aldo inquired, tilting his head.

Bridget shifted uncomfortably."I can see see since you didn't see what happened inside, that the Nazis being there must look odd".

"Uh, y-yea, we got a word for that kind of odd in English. It's called suspicious" Joshua piped up, hands behind his back as he stood at attention. He looked away when Aldo pressed the bullet deeper into Bridget's wound, having her moan in pain, louder than before."Aldo-".

"I know what I'm doin' Josh" Aldo held up his other hand, taking this as an excuse to look at his dearest.

"Everybody needs to calm down, you're letting your imagination get the better of you" Bridget strained, exclaiming again when Aldo pushed the bullet in deeper.

Joshua crossed his arms, shutting his eyes and turning his head away as if a lack of sight would dim down his hearing, too.

"You met the sergeant yourself. Willie. You remember him, don't you?" Bridget struggled, gripping the side of the table.

"Yea, I remember him" Aldo scoffed, taking a glimpse of Joshua's physical empathy. He also remembered how gentle Josh was, with treating the scar on Aldo's neck after the attempted lynching, back when Joshua and him fought the KKK one time. Aldo loves how Joshua's always been there to tend to his wounds, which have ranged from scratches on his knees after playing in parks when they were kids, to digging bullets out from his shoulder in more recent years. He inhaled slowly, exhaling at the same speed when he listened to Bridget.

"His wife had a baby, tonight. He had just become a fa-" Bridget squeezed her eyes shut, "he had just become a father!".

Joshua, from time to time, liked to imagine someone saying that about him, 'he had just become a father'. A soft smile graced his lips, in the worst moment possible. He always smiled, each time he thought about himself being a father. The idea of Aldo and him taking in a kid as their own, a little boy or girl the two of them could train to kick Nazi ass and fend for themselves. Joshua opened his eyes, catching Aldo looking right at him. He saw a knowing look in Aldo's eyes, automatically knowing that Aldo knew what he was thinking of.

Aldo hummed, turning his attention back to Bridget. 

"His commanding officer gave him and his mates the night off to celebrate" Bridget shakily breathed, groaning again."The Germans being there was either a trap set by me, or a tragic coincidence. It couldn't be both" she pleaded.

"Aldo..." Joshua called, in a tone that meant for Aldo to leave Bridget alone.

Aldo glanced at Joshua, looking back to Bridget with an arched brow before finally pulling his finger out. He took the handkerchief Joshua offered him, wiping his finger of blood as Bridget grunted."How'd the shootin' start?" He asked, glaring at all his Basterds, so that no one would take this as an opportunity to crack a joke about how Joshua's tamed Aldo the fucking Apache (a joke they make quite a lot).

"The Englishman gave himself away" she started.

"How'd he do that?" Aldo pressed, squaring his shoulders as the light hit him in a threatening way.

"He ordered three glasses" Bridget croaked, holding up three fingers in a way where her pinkie and thumb touched."We order three glasses" she clarified, holding up her thumb, pointer finger and middle finger."That's the German three, the other looks odd".

"So, uhm, t-that whole standoff happened 'cause he held up three fingers in a weird way t'order three drinks?" Joshua scoffed.

"It's much more serious than you think, especially nowadays” Bridget huffed."The Germans would, and did notice".

Aldo looked off in thought, pushing himself off the table."Okay, let's pretend there were no Germans, and everything went exactly the way it was supposed to" he imagined, going to lean against the doorway by Joshua."What was the next step?".

“Tuxedos." Bridget went to the point, suspiciously eyeing how close Aldo stood with Joshua."To get them into the premiere wearing military uniforms with all the military there would've been suicide".

Joshua pulled a quick sturgeon face in agreement.

"But, going as members of the...German film industry-".

"They wear tuxedos a-and- and fit in with everybody else!" Joshua cut Bridget off in conclusion, snapping his fingers."Eureka-- oh, uh, s-sorry, ma'am" he apologized, stepping closer to Aldo.

"No, it's fine, you're right" Bridget breathed heavily, catching Aldo smile down at Joshua with a certain air of adoration."I arranged for a tailor to fit three tuxedos tonight" she recalled.

"How'd you intend to get 'em in that premiere?" Aldo questioned, turning back to Von Hammersmark with a less positive gaze.

"Hand me my purse" Bridget instructed, Hirschberg obeying as Aldo walked back over. She dug inside her purse, everyone watching intently as she handed it to Aldo, who fished out a small card of paper."Lieutenant Hicox was going as my escort. The other two were going as a German cameraman and as his assistant".

Aldo inspected the paper, showing it off to Donny, then Joshua."You can still get us into that premiere?" He asked.

"You speak German better than your friends? No. Have I been shot? Yes! I don't see me tripping the light fantastique up a red carpet anytime soon. Least of all, by tomorrow night" Bridget groaned.

"Uh, a-actually, miss" Joshua respectfully cut in, pushing himself off the wall and walking over."I don't mean t'brag in front of my fellow Lieutenant," he glanced to Aldo, "nor my fellow soldiers, but I happen to be fluent in many languages other than English. French, German, Dutch, 'n' the list goes on" Joshua timidly listed, rubbing his left arm with his right hand."If you still wish for us to cover as German, I could do most o'the talking".

Bridget offered Joshua a fake smile, nodding curtly.

The dogs started barking as Aldo clattered something aside on a table, leaning against it as he kept his eyes on the paper. Finally, he slammed the paper down onto the table in defeat, hand on his hip.

"However, there's something you don't know" Bridget teased, Aldo slowly turning to face her, at that. She grinned, "there've been two recent developments regarding Operation Kino. One, the venue has been changed from The Ritz to a much smaller venue".

Joshua's lips parted, eyebrows knitting together in confusion as he glanced up. He caught Utivich's and Donny's gaze, the three of them exchanging glances of disbelief with each other."Uh, e-enormous changes at the last minute? That's not very Germatic" Joshua pointed out, as he went back to leaning against the wall by the door. 

"Why the hell is Goebbels doing stuff so damn peculiar?" Aldo asked, turning to fully face Bridget.

"It, uhm, it- it probably has something to do with the second development-?" Joshua suggested, a more friendly nod of correction coming from Bridget.

"Which is?".

Bridget sat up."De Führer is attending the premiere" she let out, Joshua's breath hitching.

"Fuck a duck!" Donny cursed, hitting the table Bridget was on.

As the dogs barked, Aldo leaned back against the table, pursing his lips in thought.

"What are you thinking?" Bridget grew curious.

"I'm thinkin’ gettin' a whack at plantin’ old Uncle Adolf makes this horse a different colour" Aldo replied, Joshua nodding along in an understanding manner.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Bridget squinted her eyes in confusion, Aldo turning to Joshua to explain.

"Joshy".

"Yes, uh, yes sir" Joshua nodded, turning to Bridget yet again."It means you gettin' us in that premiere".

"I'm probably going to end up losing this leg" Von Hammersmark hissed, making Joshua flinch in surprise."Bye-bye acting career, fun while it lasted. How do you expect me to walk the red carpet?" She inquired, glaring daggers at Joshua, who was visibly uncomfortable with the anger targeted towards him.

He hugged his elbows, glancing to Aldo for help.

"Easy on my right-hand man Joshua o'er here, it was my idea, blondie" Aldo put his hand up, walking over to Joshua and standing by him protectively."Doggy doc's goin' to dig that slug out ya gam" he snorted, "he's gonna wrap it up in a cast, and you got a good how-I-broke-my-leg-mountain-climbin’ story; that's German, ain't it? Y'all like climbin’ mountains, don't ya?". It was almost laughable, how proud-of-himself Aldo looked at this new plan.

"I don't. I like smoking, drinking, and ordering in restaurants. But I see your point" Bridget nodded sarcastically. She tilted her head, eyes wandering to Aldo's arm around Joshua's waist.

Aldo quickly snuffed some more tobacco, putting his small box away before speaking again."We fill you up with morphine 'til it's comin' out yer ears, and just limp your lil' ass up that rouge carpet" he grinned triumphantly, as if his plan would be able to solve world hunger.

"I know this is a silly question before I ask it, but, can you Americans speak any other language than English?" She asked, leaning back."Asides from 'Joshy' over here-" Bridget coughed, nodding towards Joshua.

"Don't call him Joshy" Aldo growled, his hold on Joshua's grip tightening."I love you" he whispered, against Josh's ear.

The corners of Joshua's lips quirked up into a smile."I love you too, Aldo".

"We both speak a little Italian" Donny piped up, referencing himself and Aldo.

"With an atrocious accent, no doubt. But that doesn't exactly kill us in the crib. Germans don't exactly have a good ear for Italian...You, Joshua, you said to me earlier how you know many languages. What about you?".

Joshua's eyes widened a bit, eyebrows raising at attention."Uh, uhm, well- I, uh, actually..." he turned to Aldo, then Donny, and everyone else, all eyes on him."I was unfortunate enough to not exactly have Italian be a part o'the list o'languages I know".

"Goddammit, Josh, are you serious?" Donny howled.

"Joshy, y'gotta be kiddin' me. You grew up in that fancy mansion of yer's, been learnin' to hunt with guns since you were five, use bombs since you were ten, and learn languages since before all that, and yer tellin' me neither yer mom nor yer pops ever put a lil' Italian in ya?" Aldo exhaled, looking at Joshua, dumbfounded.

Joshua nodded shyly."Mhm. I-I've got almost every other language in my head, you guys. Polish, Hebrew, Welsh, even Spanish, but I doubt that that'd be any at all useful? I got Russian, Portuguese, Japanese, Turkish, too. But no one in m'house spared the light of day for Italian if I was already learnin' Spanish".

Aldo kept his focus on Joshua, trailing his hand up to pat Joshua's shoulder.

"So you mumble Italian-Spanish bullshit and brazen through it, is that the plan?" Bridget gave them a 'you can't be serious' look.

"That's about it" Aldo shrugged.

Bridget nodded, "that sounds good" she mumbled.

"Sounds like shit, what else are we gon' do? Go home?".

"No, that sounds good. If you don't blow it, with that, I can get you in the building...Who does what?" Bridget clarified, looking around.

"Well, I speak the most Italian-" Aldo glanced at Joshua, "so I'll be yer escort. Donowitz speaks the third most, so he'll be yer Italian cameraman. Omar, fourth-most, he'll be Donny's assistant, like Josh'll be mine".

"An escort's assistant-?" Bridget questioned.

"Listen, lady we're in the middle o'some kinda world war with Jews runnin' around and Nazis huntin' after them, destroyin' everything that gets in their way. What's wrong with escorts havin' a lil' extra protection and assistance, huh?" Aldo pointed out.

Omar snapped his head in Aldo's direction, caught off-guard."I don't speak Italian".

"Like I said, fourth-best. Just keep yer fuckin' mouth shut-" Joshua cut Aldo off by snorting, "In fact, why don't you start practicin' right now?" Aldo grinned, looking down at Josh, who was holding back laughter.

[eye-raq]

Lethal Lust. Chapter Two:      Truth Be Told

Hey Peeps!!!! so, this next part is basically another introduction into a character in this series. I write as it comes to me so I hope everything is flowing pretty nicely. Thanks to everyone who enjoys reading this. 

Warnings: Angst. Mentions of Smut.

Chapter two: Truth Be Told.

2006:

Truth be told, Janelle Morris didn’t know a fraction of what her adopted brother was getting himself into…

It’s okay, it’s okay, hold still, we’re gonna get you through this, shh shh you’re fine, you’re okay, just hold still and we’ll get you out.”

His eyes were bloodshot, tears brimming and almost toppled over. 

“Just focus, okay? Focus on my voice, you’re fine, you’re safe, ignore the medics, stay with me, focus on me.”

Her voice was like a hush in the dark.

“I-I-I...get me the fuck out of here,” He practically begged her.

“I can’t do that, Erik. You need to get better,” Janelle was shoved out of the way unknowingly by a nurse who tried to apply pressure to his bleeding wounds.

He began to gasp, clenching his fists. The more air he took in the more his lungs burned. His mind told him to clutch his gunshot wound to stop the blood from flowing, but that would be too painful. All he could see were lights passing overhead, and faded voices calling out orders to keep him stable.

This wasn’t what he expected at all. How did he get himself down like this? All that rage and it felt like it was for nothing.

“Am I dying? If so I’m okay with that.” When he swallowed, it felt like he was swallowing glass.

“Erik. You’re not going to die. I won’t let you. FUCK THAT,” he could feel her small delicate hand grip his. 

“PULL HIM UP AND OVER! On the count of three... one, two, THREE!” 

“AHHHHH!” His piercing scream caused her to squeeze the life out of his hand, almost cutting off his blood supply.

“AHHHHHH!!!!! FUCK!!” He looked as if he wanted to kill everyone that was touching him.

“Why did you bring me here, Janelle?!” His teeth were exposed as if threatening her. 

“You’re my brother, Erik, and I wasn’t going to watch you possibly die!” Janelle released his hand, a few EMT workers rushing past her. Janelle shook her head at her brother, intense emotions flashing across her face like a picture book. 

“You’re not my real sister. You don’t have to worry about me like you do.”

“Don’t say shit like that! Don’t…” Janelle trailed off as her chest burned from his scornful words. 

“Shit like what?! I don’t need for you to get hurt too! Harrison would never fucking forgive me.”

It’s okay, Nelle, he’s just saying that because he’s upset. Erik loves you.  He conscience mind was trying to reason with her.

“SIR! Can you tell us where you were when this happened?!” The woman police officer boomed in his ear causing it to ring.

“WHY ARE YOU ASKING HIM QUESTIONS RIGHT NOW?” Janelle was ready to risk it all, approaching the police officers with stomping feet. The male officer became a barrier between the lady cop and Janelle, her eyes seething.

“Attack me and you go to jail.” She looked like she held some type of power over Janelle. She didn’t care about that badge. 

“CAN WE GET SOME CLEAR SPACE! everyone please! we need cooperation here.” The Doctor yelled at the top of his lungs, temporarily bringing everyone’s attention to the task at hand. The two officers exited the room, talking with angry whispers.

“We’ve got a gunshot wound to the ribs, left hand, and proximal femur. It was a through and through,” The male nurse present made a report of Erik’s condition alongside the doctor who took a pair of medical scissors to cut Erik’s black T-shirt down the middle. His entire torso was exposed along with some of the scars that Janelle always wondered about. With folded arms she stood in a corner, lip quivering and tears staining her cheeks.

“Where is the blood?! I need blood!!! The ED Doctor threw up his bloody glove-covered hands in frustration, applying as much pressure to Erik’s wounds as possible. 

“He has a hemorrhagic shock. We need the transfusion protocol up and running. What is his blood type?”

“You didn’t test his blood, Regina? you're a nurse for christ sake! do your job!”

The nurse by the name of Regina looked shook from being yelled at, brow sweating as she looked around her to find out if someone tested his blood.

“A-NEGATIVE!” A phlebotomist enters with the results in hand, a nurse following closely behind with the transfusion bags. Everyone worked together effectively to help Erik. Janelle bit down on her thumbnail, leg jumping with anticipation. If Erik died, she didn’t know how she would get through it. Her father’s death was already a stab to the heart already. It had been about two months since his passing but it felt like yesterday. She remembers screaming in her college dorm when she had received the call. Her roommate, Sonya, shot up out of her bed, running to Janelle’s door, banging hard like the police. Erik had been MIA, away at college himself in Maryland. 

Two Months Ago:

“Mara? where is Erik!” Janelle tossed her luggage when she made it to her aunt’s place, her family crowded around in mournful silence. 

“You're worried about Erik right now?” Her aunt looked at her with hurt eyes. The sight seemed to travel like a tidal wave over everyone else’s faces as well. 

“Yes! I need my brother right now,” Janelle tried calling Erik for the 50th time, the phone ringing twice before going straight to voicemail. She felt defeated. Janelle looked around the room at the family who hardly came around. It’s crazy how death brings people together. She remembers her older cousins talking about how her father ran her mother away, how he works too much and ignores his daughter. So fake. Erik was the most real. The one she needed at this moment. 

God must have heard her cry because Erik walked through that door with a rage so powerful it caused her uncles and male cousins to lift from their seat as if they were ready to attack him. Erik acted as if the room was empty except for Nelle, walking up to her, hugging her reassuringly. The once emotionless Erik who’d rather be a loner comforted her. His hug was tight and understanding, the tears falling even harder. Erik was the only one who understood what it felt like to have a parent killed. 

“Don’t worry Nelle, I’ll handle this,” Erik whispered closely to her before planting a kiss to her forehead. All of this shocked Janelle completely. Erik never showed her this much affection. 

“Handle it?” She blinked through her tears up at him, eyebrows scrunched, silently asking him to clarify what he meant by those electrifying words.

“Shh, calm down, it’s okay, I’m here now.”

-------

“SIR?! Can you tell us what happened to you? Were you targeted? Was this a crossfire? We need to know,” she was clearly frustrated with Erik’s lack of cooperation. All he did was focus on the ugly hospital lights within that trauma room, face blank and emotionless. Janelle hadn’t even realized they came back into the trauma unit to question him yet again. 

Erik looked at her menacingly, Fists clenched and the doctors looking as if they were ready to restrain him.

“Sir?” The officer waved away a nurse who tried to approach Erik, Janelle, ready to step forward again. This bitch lost her mind trying to squeeze information out of Erik. It’s not like it was his fault.

Janelle paused in thought.

what if it was?

Erik was definitely a version of Donnie Darko in his teenage years but would he actually be involved? would he kill someone? Janelle’s moment of inward clarity snapped like a twig from Erik’s booming voice bouncing off of the walls outrageously. 

“GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY FACE!!!!” Spit flew, eyes wide, and cold. Erik’s head fell back from weakness, his space even more crowded, almost smothering him. She could see the beginnings of a panic attack brewing, his eyes swimming with unwanted tears and veins pulsating like they were ready to combust. Erik’s heart rate began to spike, worry, and determination set on everyone’s faces. Janelle could pull her hair out from the disturbing and painful scene breaking her heart into literal pieces. 

Turning to her partner, the officer whispered closely, grabbing his forearm to walk away so that he could be tended to properly. Almost to the exit of the room, the officer caught Janelle’s eye, stopping. Janelle knew where this was going. With burning eyes, Janelle waited for the officer to speak.

“What relation are you to the victim?”

“I’m his sister,” Janelle looked over at Erik then, his cold words forcing her to cry again. How could he say that to her? Yeah, they weren’t blood siblings but Erik was the closest thing to a brother than her own Godbrother. She cared for him no matter how broken he was. 

“Do you have any idea what happened? A hunch about who could have attempted to take his life? Anything?”

“No. And if I did I would tell you,” 

Janelle tried to scrape away the blood under her fingernails, failing miserably. 

“We need you to come down to the station with us. We have some questions for you..”

“FOR WHAT?” Shoulders slumped, Janelle’s aggravated expression frustrated the woman officer to the fullest degree.

“You may be a witness to this, and for your brother's sake, we need to know who would do this to him,” the officer folds her arms over her chest authoritatively, walking closer to Janelle with stern eyes.

“He’s just a fucking kid, only a kid…” Janelle wasn’t much younger than Erik, only by a year but at this moment she felt like a mother figure.

“While you're here questioning me about what happened to my brother, you could be trying to figure out what happened to my father. He was murdered and you STILL didn’t catch his killer?!” 

“PLEASE! Can you give us some space,” the doctor barked out, adjusting blood bags on an IV pole to supply for Erik.

“That has nothing to do with this..”

“Un-FUCKING believable,” Janelle scratched her brow, hands shaking from how ballistic she felt.

“It has EVERYTHING to do with this…” Janelle snapped her mouth shut, afraid now that she said too much. 

With doubtful eyes, the woman officer gave her partner a knowing look before grabbing her walkie-talkie from her hip. 

“Everything is good, we will bring her in for questioning,” during the entire exchange, Janelle avoided her eyes, hoping to catch Erik’s. He still had his eyes planted to the ceiling lights, probably burning from not blinking. What was running through his mind? She wanted to pull him apart to study every detail from start to finish.

—————

July 30th, 1996: Coconut Grove, Miami, Florida

“Janelle, baby,”

Janelle Morris releases her black Barbie doll from her tiny grip, turning on her bed to spot her father in the doorway of her bedroom. He held a soft smile on his face, eyes sincere.

“DAD!” She rushed to him, wrapping her arms around his waist. Janelle fought the tears that wanted to fall. She hadn’t seen her father in days. 

“Where were you?! Me and auntie Mara were worried,” she pouted, hazel eyes streaming with tears.

“I’m sorry, little one. Daddy had to take care of something important. You know how important my job is.” 

Even though Janelle was just nine years old, she understood. Even understanding couldn’t stop her from waiting up all hours of the night for her father to come home. Today, she was at the park with a few of her friends sharing the monkey bars. Janelle could feel the eyes of jealous little girls on her as she skillfully crossed those monkey bars, even for how short she was.

“She thinks she’s sooooo good,” Nattie, a little white girl with natural blonde hair and dark green eyes glared at Janelle.

“She’s nothing but a show-off!” Nattie’s group of friends agreed like she owned them. A little girl with that much power…

“I’ll show her...I’ll show her I’m better than her!”

Janelle wasn’t aware of what was going to happen to her. She just kept crossing those bars, a wide smile on her face and triumph in her eyes. Janelle was almost to the other side when Nattie grabbed her ankles, yanking her down forcefully. Janelle fell to her knees, screaming in pain. Falling to her back, Janelle could see blood and ugly scars on both of her tiny kneecaps. 

“Janelle, Janelle, ugly Janelle!” Nattie sung out loud, face red and eyes hard. Her followers laughed and pointed at Janelle, even a girl Janelle thought to be her friend.

Her tears streamed down her face, glaring at the group of girls with vengeance. 

“What are you gonna do?! You're so weak and ugly! Ugly hair, ugly face! It’s us against you! Hahahaha!!!” 

She felt caved in like a circle formed around her with pointed fingers and ugly laughs. Those little girls were like little devils. Janelle scanned every one of their faces, imprinting them within her memory. Janelle’s light brown eyes fell on her supposed friend, Shawna, betrayal etched on her tiny face.

“That’ll teach you! I’m better than you! Prettier than you! You’re ugly and black! HahahaHA!”

“Shut up, Nattie,” Shawna spoke up, offended as well.

“Who asked you?!! You want to be where she is too?!!” 

Shawna cowards in fear, ashamed to meet Janelle’s eyes.

“Didn’t think so!” Nattie looked down at Janelle, smiling with her snagged toothed grin.

“Watch your back, ugly!”

Janelle cried even harder then ...if only her Dad was there...

“Janelle, I want you to meet someone,” Harrison grabs Janelle’s left hand, bringing her into the living room where her aunt resides. As soon as she entered the circular room her hazel eyes fell upon a boy sitting at the farthest end of the couch with his head bowed and fingers twiddling.

“Nelle, this is Erik. He’ll be staying with us now. That’s what papas been up to, I’ve been working extra hard to provide a home for him.”

“A home?” Janelle looked from her aunt's concerned face to her father. This was all confusing. 

“Why? Doesn’t he have a home?” 

“...I’ll explain it to you soon. For now, I just wanted to introduce you to him.”

Janelle timidly held onto her father's arm, studying Erik closely. He wasn’t much older than her, sadness in his youthful face, shoulders slumped like he’d been defeated more than twice for his young age, and evidence of drying tears on his chubby cheeks. Janelle has a heart of gold. She wanted to run up to Erik and tell him everything would be okay, ask if he wanted to watch cartoons or play a video game. Although all of that seemed promising, Janelle could feel a different type of aura surrounding Erik like a force field. 

“Harrison, can we talk?” Auntie Mara spoke softly as not to startle Erik. This was a new environment for him. 

“... right now?” Harrison kept his eyes on Erik, heaving a sigh that sounded mournful.

“Yes, now.” Auntie Mara lifts from the black suede recliner, flicking on the side lamp that occupied the small reading area. Harrison looked from Erik to Janelle before nodding his head in silent agreement, bending down to speak to Janelle.

“Would you like to sit with Erik to keep him company?”

Harrison squeezes Janelle’s shoulder reassuringly, an encouraging smile on his face that felt forced. 

“He’s a bit on the quiet side but I think he wouldn’t mind,” Janelle’s blank face shown fear, her peripheral able to spot Erik unmoving and sorrowful.

“Can you do that for me, princess?” Harrison sounded as if he were choking on his words like tears wanted to force themselves from his eyes. Hazel eyes met coffee brown, a small smile playing across her lips. 

“That’s my girl,” Harrison kisses Janelle’s forehead leaving behind a warmth that she missed. 

“I promise, I swear to you… I won’t leave you hanging like this again, I love you, Nelle, you mean the world to me.” 

Footsteps sliding across a tile floor caught the young girls attention, her father looking up and over her shoulder at his older sister. Letting out a sigh, Harrison puts up his pinky, eyebrows raised at his little girl.

“Let’s pinky promise,” This was all too easy for her. This is what home felt like. Janelle clasped her father’s larger pinky, swinging it back and forth. Harrison laughs softly, touching foreheads with her before lifting from his knee to follow his impatient sister into the kitchen.

She was finally left alone with Erik. 

Her eyes couldn’t leave his slouched figure.

Taking timid steps, Janelle walks slowly toward him, taking a seat on the same couch but on the opposite end, pushing herself into the corner with her knees drawn to her chest. The only sound was the soft whispers from her father and aunt in the kitchen. To pass some time, Janelle stared closely at the golden wavy lucky fortune cat her father had from his visit to China. Janelle always laughed at it but tonight it looked creepy. A sniffle from the opposite side of the couch pulled her eyes away from the funny-looking statue, landing on the source. Erik was wiping away at his cheeks roughly, side-eyeing Janelle and ashamed that she had caught him.

“It’s okay… I cried earlier too,” Janelle loosened her shoulders, fumbling with her tiny fingers.

“It was embarrassing,” Janelle tried her hand at laughing lightly, but that was clearly the wrong move. Erik looked up at her with those same evil eyes like the girls gave her at the park. They felt foreign: unlike him. Janelle felt that it was forced as if Erik had to feel that way.

“I’m sorry… I… I didn’t mean to,” she could have kicked herself. Erik didn’t say a word, turning to look out of the window of the living space. 

“Do you...wanna talk?” Being brave was the only option now. Maybe if he talked to someone his age, it would make him feel a little better.

“No,” his soft voice cracked, head shaking slowly.

“I’m easy to talk to. I could...make you feel better?”

Once again, he shakes his head no.

“Sweets help to. When I’m sad, my dad gives me salted caramel ice cream. You would probably like that,” She couldn’t explain what sparked her, but Janelle scooted closer to Erik. He felt that shift, looking at her as if she had two heads. Pausing, Janelle held her hands in her lap, studying Erik closely. He looked like a child who had one too many nightmares.

“What happened to you?” She couldn’t stop herself from asking. Even the sight of him wanted to make her cry.

“Did someone… hurt you badly?” The nurturing side of her couldn’t stay locked in a cage. 

“Stop asking me questions,” he was flat out and to the point. It stung like venom, but that only drove her to keep going. If he broke down in front of her, she would hold him even though she didn’t know him.

“I’m only trying to help.”

“I don’t need your help. Just… just leave me alone.”

Janelle settles back, defeated and feeling his sad energy to some degree. Silence fell between them both again until Janelle could hear her Auntie Mara whispering angrily.

“You have a daughter here, Harrison. A daughter who asks where her father could be. A daughter who already was abandoned by her mom. And then here you go, bringing some kid into this house like you have to look after him. The system will do that, Harrison.”

Janelle felt Erik move slightly, his fists clenched.

“You wanna know what happened at the park today? Janelle was attacked by a group of white girls who called her names and threatened her. She came home from school in pain and I had to pry it out of her. What kind of father are you? She’s going through things and you aren’t even here to protect her. You’d rather protect a child that isn’t even your own over the one you created? Shame.”

“Do you hear yourself, Mara?! How could you say some shit like that! He’s just a boy. He lost everything and has nothing. I feel responsible. I love Nelle with all my fucking heart, Mara. I know shit is fucked up now but I-I feel responsible for Erik,” 

“Responsible?! Hell, you were just doing your job. You are a detective. Tragedy happens every day.”

“I can’t believe you. I’m the only one that stood up for him. His mom’s family didn’t want anything to do with him. They said he would be too much of a responsibility. Even his own grandmother said that. It’s sickening,” she could hear her father heave a stressful sigh.

“Harrison. I know how hard this may seem, but putting that extra weight on you along with everything else that is going on isn’t logical! Think about Nelle,”

“Oh, I have. And that’s one of the reasons why I’m doing this. What if something happens to me? What if my little girl becomes traumatized like he did? I can’t allow that,”

“She won’t. She’ll have mama and me,” 

It was silent for a fraction.

“And what about Erik?”

The silence stretched on longer. 

Janelle turned on the TV, flipping through channels casually to by some time. Maybe Erik would feel better if he watched TV. Flipping through, a name caught her attention on the News, causing her to stop.

“A young boy, Erik Stevens…”

Janelle blinked rapidly, turning fully to Erik. His picture was on the TV screen, a picture of him and his parents together during a professional family photoshoot. 

“A tragedy that struck a home in Liberty City leaving this ten-year-old boy parentless,”

The News flashed to a candlelight visual being held outside of the home with balloons and various photos. A local reporter was talking to a woman wearing blacked-out shades to cover her teary eyes. 

“How difficult is it to stand outside of the home tonight?”

The woman shook her head in sorrow, a hand clutching her heart.

“This disgusting act has my heart in pieces! I knew this family very well. They were kind, and their son was kind. I can’t imagine what he is going through right now.” She rubbed at her snotty nose.

“Were you friends of the family?”

The woman nodded her head slowly, avoiding the camera lights.

“Neighbors. I grew up with Erika. I just recently got to know N’Jobu.”

Janelle might be nine, but she understood what all of this meant. She felt as if she invaded, turning off the TV instantly. All courage to look at him faded, all she could do was stare at the blank TV screen. 

“Janelle,” 

Her name brought her out of her daze, meeting her father’s worried eyes. 

“Janelle. Go to bed,” Flat tone, and stern eyes were what her father had. She didn’t go looking for Erik’s story on the TV, it just fell in her lap.

“I’m… I’m sorry dad,” tears began to fall, Auntie Mara coming to the rescue as of late. She picked up Janelle, squeezing her tight while glaring at her younger brother. 

“Look at what you caused!!!! Bringing him here and now Nelle knows!!!!! How could you?! HOW COULD YOU?!!” 

Harrison went to step forward but Mara’s angry pointed finger stopped him, almost jabbing him in the chest.

“NO! No…” 

Mara rubbed at Janelle’s sandy brown puffballs, walking away with rage. Janelle looked over her aunties shoulder with desolate eyes, meeting Erik’s crestfallen ones before a storm began to brew. 

———

April 2006, Ryder Trauma Center: 

“How bad is it doc?” 

Janelle tried to keep the yawn that fought to be freed at bay. 

“He’s stable. The surgery went as planned. He’s lucky to still be alive with those injuries.”

Janelle gripped her coffee cup, spilling some on her jeans.

“Shit!” It burned, her fingers trying to wipe it away since she didn’t have any napkins.

“Tired?” The Doctor looked at her with a worrisome face.

“Sleep can wait. When can I see him?” 

The Doctor was cautious to speak, looking at Erik’s closed curtain within the SICU unit.

“He’s… detectives are in their questioning him,”

“WHAT?!” Janelle tossed her coffee, walking past the doctor to Erik’s room. Pulling back the curtain, she found Detective Rivers, her father’s old partner and some rookie cop crowding Erik’s space. If Erik wasn’t in this state, all of them would probably be seriously hurt. 

“What’s going on?!” Janelle folded her arms over her chest angrily, eyes inflamed.

“Janelle,” Rivers had a solemn look in his eyes, slipping his notepad away discreetly.

“How… how are you?”

“How do you think? WHY are you questioning him? Can’t you see he just came from surgery? What’s wrong with you?” She was disgusted.

“Calm down, were just asking Erik what happened two nights ago, isn’t that right, Erik?”

Janelle looked over at her brother, heart aching as she took in the traction device that held his leg and bandages covering his other wounds. 

“Erik. You know you don’t have to talk to them,” 

He was silent with his eyes looking anywhere but at the people surrounding him. 

“He won’t talk. I was questioned already and I told them what I knew. Erik wasn’t involved.” 

“We need to hear that from him,” Rivers squeezes the bridge of his nose in frustration. A pained sound came from Erik, Janelle fisting away her tears with the already wet sleeve of her University of Miami sweater. Hearing that pained sound made her feel pain. Licking at his dry lips, Erik shook slightly as his head turned toward Rivers and his lackey. They all waited with bated breath.

“Y’all motherfuckers disgust me. Crooked, dumb ass cops. Here y’all go, trying to solve one case when there are others of more concern.” Erik’s scratchy painful voice silenced everyone in that room, catching them in his web-like he controlled them. When he talked his eyes watered.

“What about my parents?! Y’all know who did it but yet you won’t bring him in?! Fuck is up with that?! Then Harrison gets killed and you can’t figure out who did that?” He was getting himself worked up, blood pressure spiking.

“Fucking disgusted. I can’t wait to get out of here…” 

Rivers looked at the rookie cop, then at Janelle. He didn’t have a word to say to Erik’s frustration. 

“Wait till I get out of here…” 

Janelle was afraid of the way Erik said those words. What did he mean? There was so much she felt like Erik never shares with her. Whether it was to keep her safe or not, Janelle deserved to know. It was as if her father and Erik had a secret understanding.

“You have plans to go to the Navy, correct?” Rivers tried another tactic, hoping to gain some insight.

“I know people in the Navy, Erik. I could land you a superior job there…”

Janelle wanted to laugh maniacally at that. Here this white man was, trying to make deals with a black man to make him cooperate. That’s what they always did. 

“You think I need you? Fuck makes you think I need you to get me where I can get to on my own. Don’t worry though, I use your kind all the time. Make you think you have power over me. It’s all a game.”

Rivers smiles despite his growing anger at Erik’s spiteful words about his race. Janelle rolled her eyes into her head, Rivers knew Erik was right, he just didn’t want to admit it.

“Alright,” Rivers stands, hands on his hips like a typical detective with his badge and gun visible. It was so close to Erik’s face as if he was silently telling him that if he didn’t cooperate things would go bad.

“We’ll keep in touch, Erik. Janelle. Good to see you,” after that dry farewell, Rivers motioned for his rookie to follow him out, leaving Janelle alone with Erik since two days ago.

“Erik,” Janelle took a seat on a chair near his bed, ruffling the sleeves to her sweater.

“Talk to me.” She tilted her head down at him, watching as he turned in the opposite directing toward his heart monitor.

“Why are you punishing me? I’ve done nothing but love you and this is what you do?” She licked her dry lips, hot tears soaking her face yet again. 

“I’m not punishing you, Nelle. You need to worry about getting through Criminology school and beat these whities at their own game.”

“Did you hunt him down? Dad's killer…”

“STAY THE FUCK OUT OF THIS!!!!!!!!!!!” Erik’s bed began to beep from all the motion, multiple footsteps being heard as the sound continued. 

“Everything alright?!” A young Asian nurse entered, looking around the room concerned while Erik’s orthopedic doctor trailed in causally begin her.

“Erik, do you want more pain meds? You can’t keep moving so much you’ll disrupt the traction,” 

Erik went silent again as if he were an empty shell. Janelle smoothed her hand over her silk pressed sandy brown hair, pained at what might be the truth.

She hoped it wasn’t the truth.

———

October 1998: Coconut Grove Private Academy

“Umph!”

Janelle felt her body slam into a series of lockers on the third floor of her private school. Her long sandy brown box braids crowded her vision, equilibrium off as she tried to right herself again. That didn’t work for her because another forceful push caused her knees to buckle.

“I SAW YOU LOOKING AT CASSIE IN GYM TODAY!”

Janelle looked up into the eyes of Cody Willis, the eleven-year-old bully. He always picked on Janelle just as much as Nattie did.

“YOU LIKE GIRLS, DON’T YOU?!”

His haunting blue eyes flared down at Janelle like she was infested.

“LEAVE ME ALONE, CODY!” Janelle rubbed at her sore elbow, fighting tears. 

“Why? So you can go after Cassie and try to kiss her with your nasty lips?!!” The other white boys laughed hard, slapping Cody’s back to edge him on.

“Why would ANYONE want to kiss you anyway?! You’re ugly,” 

Janelle knew they talked about her broad nose. She knew they hated her kinky hair. Her fair skin even was frowned upon. 

“YOU WANT TO BE LIKE US SO BAD WITH YOUR YELLOW SKIN. YOUR SKIN LOOKS LIKE A DISEASE.”

Janelle could feel her head being shoved into the locker, screams loud. A door to her far-right swung open causing the boys to move away and act as if nothing was going on. Janelle glared at them, adjusting her oxford top.

“What is all that noise?!” Miss Caldwell, a science teacher, stepped into the hallway with a ruler in hand.

“What is the meaning of this?! Janelle? Boys?”

Janelle was ready to tell it all but Cody’s hard threatening eyes stopped her. 

“N-nothing,” she avoided the woman’s cautious eyes.

“Boys? Is it nothing like miss Morris is saying?”

“YES.” A unison response sprang free, fake smiles on their faces.

Miss Caldwell looked between the children for what felt like minutes before relaxing her shoulders, turning to leave.

“Aren’t you all dismissed?! Get home!” She waves them away before reentering her classroom. Janelle grabbed her backpack from the hallway floor, ready to run away but Cody tripped her, Janelle falling face-first against the floor.

“Bitch,” 

All she could feel was cold tile on the side of her cheek. She needed to leave. She hated this place.

On her way down the steps, Janelle spotted Erik sitting on the bottom steps, a black eye, and a lifeless gaze. This was normal for him. Erik was known to be the fighter in school. The loner. Although everyone followed after Cody and all his friends, none of them messed with Erik. Janelle rolled her eyes, stepping in front of him with her arms folded.

“Fighting again? My dad is gonna be pissed,” 

“So?!” Erik spoke with malice.

“So is you can’t keep fighting every day! You’ll get kicked out of the school!”

“I don’t give a fuck about this school!” His fists clenched. As angry as he was he noticed a slight bruise on Janelle’s cheek. 

“How did you get that, Nelle?” His voice was soft but it held danger.

“No reason. I fell in gym class  today during a game of basketball.” Janelle began walking away, trying to avoid the conversation completely.

“Let’s go! We have to make it home for dinner,” 

Janelle stopped in her tracks, noticing how Erik didn’t budge.

“Oh my God,” she rolled her eyes at him.

“What now?”

“You’re lying. It’s Cody this time around, isn’t it?”

She could feel herself breaking out into a nervous sweat.

“Screw Cody! He’s a loser.”

“Janelle. I know when you’re lying,” Erik grabbed his bag, walking past her.

“You go ahead home. Tell Harrison that I’m staying after to play ball,”

“I’m not lying for you,” Janelle stuck her nose in the air.

“Yeah, you will. You will or I’ll tell him about Cody picking on you.”

Janelle knew Erik wouldn’t do it but the thought of him doing it caused her to give in and groan.

“FINE! But you owe me your fudge cookies at lunch tomorrow,” 

“I don’t care, those things are fucking nasty anyway.”

Janelle shoves Erik, skipping away and out the main entrance.

“Don’t be too long!!!” She singsonged, never noticing the vengeful look in Erik’s eyes. 

His homicidal urge couldn’t be stopped. The little voice in his head that he referred to as “the dark passenger” invaded his brain like bad nerve cells did a brain-damaged victim. Harrison tried to control his sociopathic tendencies with guidance, but all that failed at this moment.

Cody has to die.

The fucking vermin picked on the wrong girl.

Even though Erik had a hard time considering Janelle to be his sister after two years, he still felt the urge to protect her like a big brother should. His internal feeling of emptiness needs to be fed with blood and rage. Sadly, it’s what made him feel alive. Everything he did to fit in with the world around him felt like a disguise. Any emotional attachment repelled him like off spray.

One week later: 

“Nelle, Erik,”

Harrison approached Nelle while she was playing with her spy kit, Erik sitting on the patio with her, playing his game boy with intense competitive eyes. 

“Hey, check this out, dad!” Nelle showed her father a fingerprint she dusted for fake evidence. Despite his pained expression, Harrison smiled at her success.

“That’s wonderful, baby. You’ll make a great forensic scientist someday,” Harrison ruffled her braided bun, turning a keen eye on Erik. 

“You guys go to school with Cody Wills?”

Erik continued to play as if he didn’t hear Harrison ask him a question, biting down on his full bottom lip. Janelle, however, shivered at the name. She heard about Cody being hospitalized for the severe concussion he obtained while at the park just a week ago.

“Yeah, we know Cody,” Janelle spoke up for Erik. 

Harrison looked between them both before taking a seat on his patio chair, running a stressful hand over the top of his bald head.

“Um, I’m afraid I have bad news regarding Cody,” 

Janelle avoided her father's eyes, looking down into her lap. Silence filled the space except for Erik’s game music. Harrison studied Erik closely, opening his mouth to speak.

“He died today from complications. I don’t feel like neither of you should know the extent of it but I at least wanted to make you aware of it. His family is really going through a tough time.”

Janelle felt bad but not as bad. Cody was mean to her for no reason. He hit her, called her names, even threw things at her. She couldn’t lie and say that she didn’t wish death upon him a few times while crying in the bathroom during lunch break.

“Hey, don’t look so sad, Nelle,” Harrison lifts her chin.

He places a soft kiss to her forehead, lifting to his feet to approach Erik. Harrison crouched down to his eye view, head tilted in concern. The exchange frightened Janelle. Erik acted as if Harrison wasn’t even there like he was in his own little bubble.

Harrison let out a shaky breath before ruffling Erik’s braids, lifting to his feet again, turning to enter the house. Harrison was so patient with Erik even after he completely ignored the news about Cody. Janelle decided to start some mischief, picking up a tiny pebble, tossing it at Erik. Like he sensed it, Erik catches the pebble, throwing it into the yard.

“Show off,” Janelle stuck her tongue out at him.

“Jealous?” He gave her a wicked smile.

“No! I can do a lot of cool stuff too,” she folded her arms.

“Like what?” Erik paused his game, staring at Janelle fully with humor in his eyes.

“I can beat your high score on that game!” Erik barked out a burst of laughter, brushing Janelle off.

“Yeah ared,” Like he never left, Erik began playing the game again, his scarred knuckles gaining Janelle’s attention. She looked from his hand to his face, wondering how he got those scars.

————

Two months later: 2006

“Are you going to tell me what happened? Ever?”

Janelle dried the last plate before placing it in the cabinet of her Aunt's home. This is where she returned to since her other home was tarnished with the death of her father.

“Nah, you don’t need to know.” Erik sipped lightly on a glass of water, Naval Academy uniform folded neatly in front of him. He was leaving her behind. No questions answered, just leaving like nothing happened. Erik was tough but he didn’t always need to be. He acted like a shell at times and it scared Janelle.

“Why the Navy?” Erik was smart, he graduated high school with honors and awards, and now he was on his way to Annapolis for the Naval Academy. It all seemed weird to Janelle. Maybe he had a plan after all. She only hoped that it would exterminate his demons. It was nothing but trouble in Miami for Erik. 

“I need to focus on building myself. I feel like if I stay here, I’m stuck in a never-ending loop of horror with what happened to my parents. I need to move on to bigger and better things, Nelle.”

Janelle also took that as a way for Erik to be rid of anything that involved her father too. Harrison helped Erik as much as he could, but clearly not enough.

“Besides, Mara ass doesn’t like me anyway,” Erik smiles into his glass.

“Not even remotely funny,” Janelle fights the urge to ask Erik where he was and why he’d been shot. Ironically, news coverage that same day announced finding the body of a man named Darrell Wilde who was in and out of jail on drug charges and could possibly be the one who murdered her father. Janelle didn’t believe it. There were so many suspects involved, and none of it seemed true. She looked at Erik then, trying to find the answers but instead he stared at that TV like he was staring off into space before blinking rapidly like someone snapped him out of a trance. It sent a chill up her spine.

“You’ll never tell me who shot you will you?” 

She pretended to be preoccupied with the old microwave her aunt had for years but her emotions got the best of her.

“That was a stupid mistake I’ll never make again. I can’t go looking for trouble unprepared you know what I’m saying? The Navy can help me with that…”

Erik smiles, trying to make light of the situation, his toned arms wide.

“I’m gonna be a future JSOC one day! Be happy for me, Nelle!”

“Happy?” She was growing angry with his dismissive attitude. 

“I’m surprised you even know what that is. You never show an ounce of real emotion and now you're smiling and laughing like everything is okay. I can’t tell what’s fake or real with you.”

Erik’s smile faded, arms dropping to his sides and form stiff. Janelle could see right through him. She knew Erik put a veil over himself to blend in when deep down everything was a raging storm within him. 

“You don’t have to hide it from me,” The tears leaked onto her chest. Erik felt uncomfortable near her, unsure of how to make her feel any different. Raw emotion like this frightened him. 

“I’m the only one that cares.”

“I know… but you gotta trust me on this.”

Erik walked up to Nelle, pulling her into an awkward hug, allowing her to cry on his shoulder. He rubbed at her back stiffly, jaw tight from the affection. 

“I love you, Erik. Don’t forget about me.” 

Those words were like a blow to his rough exterior. Did he love Nelle? Sure he cared for her in some way, whichever way that was for him. Erik wished that he could just feel like humans feel. Every time he tried, the demons within him brought him back to hell. 

But Erik swore to protect Janelle from then on.

And he was a man of his word. 

—————

Present Day: July 5th, 2019:

“Because blood demonstrates surface tension or cohesive forces that act as an outer skin, a drop of blood dropped at a 90° angle forms a near-perfect spherical shape. A smooth surface, such as tile or linoleum, will cause little distortion of this spherical shaped drop, whereas a rougher surface, such as carpet or concrete, disrupts the surface tension and causes the drops to break apart.”

Erik turned to his sister and criminologist. 

She brought her notes to his apartment in South Beach to help her with a case that landed on her desk.

“Look at all of these pictures I took of the crime scene,” Janelle spread the photos over Erik’s recycled glass coffee table, forehead wrinkled in frustration. 

“It just… it’s not adding up to me.”

“Nelle, you’re a criminologist. Use all those smarts you have and put two and two together,” Erik took a swig of his drink.

“These blood spatters are all different. You may be looking at two different types of kills.”

Janelle ran a hand through her pressed sandy brown hair, laughing to mask her frustration.

“Two? I figured that and Doakes didn’t want to listen to me. He thinks he knows everything under the sun.” Erik huffed, the corners of his lips turning down in disinterest at the mention of that name.

“He’s a dirty cop. He’s trying to cover up the shit he’s not supposed to do by making you look bad. You want me to handle him for you?” 

Erik’s palm itched for some action. He didn’t like anyone bothering his sister.

“Ha, I can handle Doakes. He talks and walks like his dick is big but it’s all a front. I think he likes me… too bad I prefer pussy,” Janelle laughs, watching as Erik joins in. 

“You laugh like you agree with me, bro. What’s up with you Mr. Bachelor? No lucky woman melting that ice-cold heart of yours?” Janelle raised a playful brow at her brother.

“I don’t have time for that,” Erik played with his sweating glass, rubbing it over his thumb causing a print to form within the water. His fingerprint was a mixture of whorl and tentarch. 

Janelle snorted loudly, the alcohol catching up to her and she was only on glass number two.

“So? Carmen doesn’t ring a bell?”

Erik opens and closed his mouth like a fish, unsure of how to answer that. Janelle always threw him for a loop. 

“How the fuck do you even know about Carmen?”

“You’re such a dick head,” unspoken, her eyes traveled to his upturned phone, “Carmen has been calling you since I got here.” 

Erik casually flipped his phone over, eyes occupied with the wall space behind Janelle littered with trophy weapons.

“Are you avoiding her? You could at least tell the girl you’re not interested.”

“She thinks I’m mysterious,” Erik made a weird face.

“She’s a loner who’s intrigued with my mystery.” Erik found that to be comical. Carmen was a part of Erik’s disguise. She helped add to his “normal” life outside of who he really was. He hadn’t even touched her yet but he couldn’t deny that the chick didn’t feed his curiosity. A girl never made him curious.

“Maybe you can be apart of her own little world. Maybe she needs that… maybe you need that.” 

Janelle was all but hinting to Erik that he needed to settle down. Although she had her suspicions that her brother was disinterested in any aspect of romantics, she could only hope that one day that will change him. 

“I worry about you nigga,” Janelle worried about Erik every damn day. 

“What did I tell you about that shit? Worrying over me is like picking at a scab that won’t heal.”

He felt like he was eating his own words.

“You live alone in the gloomy fucking apartment, hardly go out and do anything, sleep on your boat in the middle of the ocean, blank out in the middle of conversations like some crazy person,” Janelle paused to catch her breath.

“If there was ever anything wrong, would you talk to me about it?” Janelle all but crowded Erik’s little bubble, eyes soft. She placed her slender hand over his, hoping to gage some kind of reaction, even a flinch would be acceptable. 

“Depends on what it is,” His eyes met hers, the cinnamon orbs flickering with a hint of black.

“You talk like you're some kind of serial killer,” Janelle laughs heartily, shoving playfully at Erik’s shoulder. Erik’s warm hand slips away from hers, falling into his lap. Janelle’s smile faded, her fingers nervously placing her hair behind her ears. All she could see seated in front of her was that little ten-year-old boy that she met that awful evening. Reaching forward, Janelle tugs on one of Erik’s dreads, attempting to get a smile out of her brother. 

“You need a trim,” SHe ruffles it like the hairs of a dog, successfully snapping him out of his gloomy phase.

“Here you go acting like somebody mama,” Erik slaps her hand away, shaking his head with a tired smile. At least she got a smile out of it.

“I am your mama!” Janelle settles back on her side of the table, legs folded Indian style like she was back in kindergarten. 

“Whatever, you know me and Regina are having a housewarming. Not that you enjoy social events but I would like to see you there with Camren. I want to meet her… whatever she is to you.”

Erik picked at the dreads framing his forehead, deep in thought about being surrounded with those humans. Erik considers himself emotionally divorced from the rest of humanity; in his narration, he refers to “humans” as if he is not one himself. He claims that all of his emotional responses are part of a well-rehearsed act to conceal his true nature. He has no interest in romance or sex; considering his “relationship” with Carmen to be part of his disguise. 

“Fine. Should we bring something?”

“Just some good liquor,” Janelle gathered her notes, placing them into her work bag before standing with a pained expression.

“Jesus, I feel like I’m 50,” Janelle stretched her back, shaking out her limbs before slipping her heels back on.

“Get some sleep, Erik. That insomnia isn’t something to play with,”

“Are you trying to school me on sleep? I bet once you get home you’ll be up all night poring over your notes until 5 am,” 

Shrugging without guilt, Janelle shoulders her bag, “my job calls for it. You have no reason to be up so late without a 9 to 5. I envy that sometimes. Just bullshitting around.” 

“I’ve earned the right to bullshit around with all the work I put myself through,” Erik prided himself not only in his kills but in his success as well. 

Janelle wished she could sometimes live day to day without working for anyone but she loved what she did. She did it to prove to the whities and the slackers that she could solve the cases thrown at her one by one. 

“As much passion that you have for your job, Nelle, I doubt it,” Erik walks Janelle to the door, opening it for her only to be startled by Carmen. Grunge and vibrant and she hadn’t said a word yet. Her cat-like eyes looked from Erik to Janelle with suspicion, Janelle ready to clarify EVERYTHING so Carmen didn’t get the wrong idea. 

“Carmen?” He stared at her with confusion, ignoring his sisters scheming smile.

“So you’re Carmen? Hi, I’m Janelle, Erik’s sister,” Janelle greeted Carmen with a friendly handshake, studying the dark girl standing before her dressed in all black from head to toe, short curly mane, and piercings. 

“Nice to meet you. Erik didn’t tell me he had a sister.” Janelle stared blankly at him, eyes swimming with questions that needed answers. Janelle could feel the tension brimming, deciding to leave now before things toppled over.

“Talk to you later, E. Don’t forget,” like a mother, she pointed a stern finger at him before saying goodbye to Carmen, closing the door behind her.

@te-amo-corazon​ @alexundefined​ @vibranium-chakra​ @shegoego​ @goddessofthundathighs @mysidefanting  @hidden-treasures21 @shookmcgookqueen @forgottenthoughtsandmemories @destinio1 @iamrheaspeaks @drsunshine97 @shesakillerkween @jozigrrl @deja-r @forbeautyandlife @n-jadaddy @janelledarling @loosewindmill @disneysdarlingdiva @youcantkillamutant @youreadthatright @softnani @purple-apricots @uhlxisback @blue-sunflowerr @princessstevens @princesskillmonger @unfriendly-blk-hottie @supersizemeplz @abeautifulmindexposed @laketaj24 @scrumptiouslytenaciouscrusade @bidibidibombaclaat​ @whorderofthepheonix​ @wifin-niggaz​ @wakandas-vibranium​ @wakanda-4evr​ @wakanda-inspired​ @wawakanda-btch @wakanda-princess​ @madamslayyy​ @chaneajoyyy​ @erikismybitch​ @erikslulbaby​ @erikkillingmesoftly​ @eriksjournal​ @eriks-girl​ @thiccdaddy-mbaku​ @muse-of-mbaku​ @hoopshoney​ @bartierbakarimobisson​  @killmongersgurl​ @killmongersaidheyauntie​ @killmongerdispussy​ @killmonger-dolan​ @killmongurl​ @killmongerthirst​ @killmongerthiskoochie​ @thehomierobbstark​ @trevantesbrat​ @panthergoddessbast​ @vikkidc​ @hearteyes-for-killmonger​ @heyauntieeee​ @highlifeflylife​ @ayeitsmi @sweettea-and-honeybutter​ @ayellepea​ @bakarijordan​ @unholyxcumbucket​ @teheeboo​ @killmonger-bakari​ @tiava143​ @quietstorm-73​ @raysunshine78​ @savagescorpion​ @blxckquiescent​ @theblulife​ @ljstraightnochaser @theblulife

[briiightesthue]

Ducktales: Separation AU Episode 1: Part 1

The episode starts out pretty similar, however, it is Dewford running around the kitchen trying to get breakfast, while also trying to give his uncle tips on how to dress for his upcoming interview, while also trying to sneakily hot wire the engine. It’s obvious the duckling can’t keep up with all of this at once, but he’s trying.

Donald gets a call from the sitter saying she cannot show up. Before he could even get the idea of canceling the interview, Dewey assures him that ‘he’s 12 now, he can watch himself and a couple of hours wouldn’t kill him.’

Once Donald is gone, Dewey begins a little victory dance racing to the helm of the ship to continue wiring the boat. However just as the engine starts Donald had walked back in because he had forgotten his keys. He caught Dewey just as he let out a victorious ‘Cape Suzette hear I come’.

Which lead Donald to haul Dewey to the backseat of his car.

Dewey:You never let me do anything fun. Donald: Dewey, if we wanna keep our home afloat we have to do things we don’t want to do.

Leading to the ‘Destination McDuck Manor’ Scene.

However it’s just Dewey asking questions a mile a minute.

-

The next shot we join Scrooge McDuck in his Money bin bored, as an equally bored Huey sits next to him during a board meeting. Going over the budget cuts.

Huey waits outside as Scrooge deposits his Money in his depleted Money bin. Huey helps him close the door which they both struggle with. The trip to the limo is silent.

Launchpad attempts conversation with Scrooge who is busy reading the paper, when his attempts fail he tries to talk to Huey while he is doing his homework. Both attempts fail.

Scrooge: Eyes on the road Mcquack!!! Every bruise I see on my boy and dent on my car is a deduction in yer salary.

Launchpad attempts conversation again, which Scrooge responds with bringing up the divider. Both he and Huey chuckle about this.

A quick stop sends Scrooge out of his seat while Huey makes a quick comment about seat belts.

Scrooge: Why aren’t we moving!

Just in front of them Donld is trying to get Ms.Beakly to open the gates so he can drop Dewey off before Scrooge arrives. Unfortunately for them they both just catch each other. Both men exit the cars to ‘greet’ each other.

Scrooge: Donald Duck. Donald: Uncle Scrooge.

Both boys in the separate car react very differently to the information. Dewey with more glee and Huey with less.

A quick argument and some wordplay leaves Scrooge in charge of Dewey for the day. Both boys exit the car for the greet. Dewey is a little put off by Hueys immediate glare. Donald glances at Huey and can’t help but feel a little sad.

Scrooge: Hubert, Donald Duck. Donald: Dewey meet Scrooge McDuck. Remember, no tricks, no lies, and no trouble. Dewey: Yes Uncle Donald Donald: I wasn’t talking to you.

Both Scrooge and Huey narrow their eyes at Donald.

-

Dewey walks at a slower pace behind Scrooge and Huey trying to take everything in. ‘Accidentally’ having the door closed on him before they enter the manor.

Scrooge is silent and any attempts at conversation with Huey are met with short replies.

Eventually they stop in the dining room, Scrooge and Huey on one side Dewey on the other. Scrooge tries to read the paper, while Huey tries to finish homework. Beakly comes in with food encouraging them both to talk to Dewey. Which they don’t.

Dewey makes the first move himself popping up in front of them on top of the table when they both look up.

Scrooge glancing at Huey: So, do children still like marbles? Huey shrugs Dewey: Are you really my uncle?! Huey: If he’s Donald’s uncle he’s your Great Uncle. Dewey: How old are you? Huey: That’s none of your business. Dewey: How come you never visit? Is because you’re so old? Huey: Becuase- Dewey: You owe me a lot of birthday present- Huey: He doesn’t owe you anything! Dewey: Are you his translator or something? I’m asking him not you.

The boys argue until Dewey brings up: Dewey: He used to be a big deal! I’m trying to find out what happened to him!!!

Scrooge begins to looses temper, slamming down a rolled up newspaper, making Huey flinch a tad, and calling for Beakly.

Both boys are escorted to Della’s old room.

Huey: He started it, why am I being punished? Scrooge: It’ll be good to have a friend your age.

Beakly gives them the bag of marbles, and Huey gives him warning of ‘we count them’.

While Huey sit down ready to play with the marbles, Dewey wants to escape.

Dewey: You live with the coolest duck in the world! How do you not wanna go explore the house and ditch this place. Huey: It’s better if we just sit down and wait it out. He’ll only get more mad. Dewey: We’re like cousins or something right? Let’s just go and-

The door creaks open slowly.

Dewey: What was that? Huey: Calm down it’s just-

Before he could explain they’re both lassoed out of the room.

-

The boys are tied up, hanging upside down. Dewey is panicing while Huey looks slightly amused.

Someone in the shadows greets them, using her ‘scary voice’

Webby: Who sent you? Was it Ma Beagle? Glomgold. Huey: Webby- Dewey: We’re sorry! Don’t hurt us please- You can hurt him he’s kind of a jerk by not me Uncle Scrooge locked- Webby: Uncle Scrooge!? Oh my gosh the nephew! She cuts them down, Huey dust himself off.

Huey: I forgot we were playing today, sorry. Webby: This is much better than playing captive and interrogator!!!! Huey do you know who this is? Huey: Donnie, right? Webby & Dewey: Dewey- Dewey: You know who I am? Webby: Of course researching Mr. McDuck and his family is kind of my hobby. What’s your blood type? What’s Donald really like-? Huey: He’s a traitor. Webby: Tell me everything!!!

Webby snaps a picture of Dewey, temporarily blinding him.

Dewey, while rubbing his eyes:..We live on a house boat and that’s kind of it. We’re a normal boring family. Webby: Normal? Boring? HA!

Webby kicks a volley ball right at them, Huey steps away, but not before giving Dewey a little push. The ball sends the world map up revealing Webby’s wall.

Webby: Dewey duck.

She pins the photo of Dewey next to the the one of a much younger Huey.

Webby: Scrooge McDucks great nephew on his sister Hortenses side with Quackmore Duck, twice removed!!! Dewey: And you are? Huey: Webby Vanderquack. Webby: My Grannies the housekeeper...WAIT does that make us friends? Huey: It doesn’t. He’s only here for the day. Dewey: Actually- I’d love to be your friend. And friends show friends what fun things there are to do at the manor! Webby: Of course! I’m the best at fun.

She lead him to the vents, where they both crawl into and away.

Huey: Fine you both can go and get into trouble more! See if I care…

He waits a little longer before crawling after them.

Huey: Someone has to watch you.

As they crawled through the vents Dewey hears Scrooge’s ‘Famy is nothing but trouble’ speech.

-

The reach the ‘room of secrets’ where both Huey and Webby try to show things off, however Dewey denies they’re even real once they reach the portrait of Donald and Scrooge on the pirate ship.

Dewey: Uncle Donald has never done anything cool. Webby: Donald Duck is one of the bravest adventurers of all time! Huey: One of the biggest traitors of all time!

Dewey: Don’t call him that and besides this is all fake!

Dewey denies any of the artifacts as real, making Huey argue they are. Both boys argue accidentally unleashing Captain Peghook, the headlessman horse, and the deus exalibur. Also ringing the gong twice.

Scrooge walks in promptly saving their butts, and lecturing them right after accidentally causing Dewey to ring the gong again and releasing the dragon.

The Dragon, however instead of being a gold eater in this version he hunts for the one who awakens him. However instead of going for Dewey it goes for Huey in the middle of Huey’s ‘I told you so’

As Huey is chased throughout the manor he’s asking why is it going after him if Dewey’s the one who woke it up.

Webby begins to explain that thought the dragon hunts the one who wakes it up, it has trouble deciphering between siblings, most of all twins.

Both boys are shocked by the news but can’t do anything about it until the dragon is down.

-

They manage to temporarily subdue the dragon, having a small conversation with Scrooge about being siblings. He doesn’t get to explain much more before the dragon escapes heading straight for the city.

Dewey: I mean if it’s not coming after me or Red anymore that’s good right? Huey: Yeah it’s not like it’s going to toward the CITY or anything. Scrooge: Aye, it must of caught your brothers scent. Huey & Dewey: BROTHER!?

-

Cut to a motorcycle swerving through the traffic in Duckburg while Louie is relaxing the side car. Grandma Duck smiles at him, assuring that it’ll only be a quick stop in the city.

However the shadow of the dragon cast on them, causing traffic to stop and both Grandma and Louie to look up. The dragon lands a few cars a head of them and roars going close and grabbing Louie from the side car.

[imtheswanqueen2010]

FIRST OFF, @akingwithnodreams lari i’m so sorry i also didn’t do this earlier,,,, BUT I DIDN’T FORGET ABOUT IT!!!!! i’ve just been very busy since february, that’s all

Rules: answer these 85 questions and tag 20 people

Last:

1. Drink: water

2. Phone call: my mom

3. Text message: my mom as well dksjflkdjlksgj

4. Song you listened to: GOLD by BROCKHAMPTON can you tell that i’m listening to SATURATION

5. Time you cried: i think i cried literally 5 days ago??? but i’m not sure,,, that day is kinda blurry now,,,

6. Dated someone twice? nah

7. Kissed someone and regretted it: not really

8. Been cheated on: no thank fuck and i hope that never happens

9. Lost someone special: also no thank fuck²

10. Been depressed: yeah

11. Gotten drunk and thrown up: no

Fave colours:

12. PINK

13. light green

14. light gray

In the last year have you…

15. Made new friends: yeah :’))

16. Fallen out of love: no

17. Laughed until you cried: yeah :’))

18. Found out someone was talking about you: yes and the person doesn’t even have to see me almost everyday and they still talked about me, iconic

19. Met someone who changed you: no

20. Found out who your friends are: yes

21. Kissed someone on your facebook friends list: yes

General:

22. How many of your facebook friends do you know irl: almost all of them

23. Do you have any pets: no 

24. Do you want to change your name: i just wanna get rid of one of my last names when i marry someone, that’s all i want

25. What did you do for your last birthday: i went to monte verde with my family and my cousin and it was raining and it was so good and so much fun

26. What time did you wake up today: at almost 7 a.m.

27. What were you doing at midnight last night: sleeping

28. What is something you cant wait for: my cousin to come back to brazil

30. What are you listening to right now: FAKE by BROCKHAMPTON wow who’ve thought right

31. Have you ever talked to a person named Tom: no

32. Something that’s getting on your nerves: having to depend on other people to do things for school, like ASSIGNMENTS y’know

33. Most visited website: probably tumblr and youtube

34. Hair colour: brown

35. Long or short hair: WELL, if we’re talking about MY hair then long,, BUT i love short hair on literally anyone else

36. Do you have a crush on someone: i don’t think so

37. What do you like about yourself: i like that i’m MOSTLY self-sufficient now

38. Want any piercings? no

39. Blood type: idk, ask my mom

40. Nicknames: le, lele

41. Relationship status: single

42. Zodiac: leo

43. Pronouns: she/her i guess

44. Fave tv shows: Doctor Who, Sherlock and Gossip Girl

45. Tattoos: no, but i’d die for anyone who has tattos you listen @ girls

46. Right or left handed: right handed

47. Ever had surgery: no

48. Piercings: none

49. Sport: i used to take ballet classes, but rn i’m pretty inactive

50. Vacation: FRANCE, ENGLAND, RUSSIA, UKRAINE, POLAND, ALL OF EUROPE

51. Trainers: ?

More general:

52. Eating: i ate some chocolate a while ago

53. Drinking: water, as usual

54. I’m about to watch: NOTHING, i’m going out in some minutes i guess

55. Waiting for: my family and i to go out, I WANNA BUY SOME CLOTHES

56. Want: to have my whole life figured out and like 5 phds i guess

57. Get married: SURE WIFE ME UP

58. Career: INTERNATIONAL RELATIONS!!!!!!!

Which is better:

59. Hugs or kisses: hugs

60. Lips or eyes: eyes

61. Shorter or taller: taller

62. Older or younger: older

63. Nice arms or stomach: i don’t care, so both, one of those, or none is fine

64. Hookup or relationship: relationship

65. Troublemaker or hesitant: no.

Have you ever:

66. Kissed a stranger: no

67. Drank hard liquor: no

69. Turned someone down: yes

70. Sex on first date: no

71. Broken someones heart: i don’t think so

72. Had your heart broken: i don’t think so either???? feelings are confusing

73. Been arrested: no

74. Cried when someone died: no

75. Fallen for a friend: yeah

Do you believe in:

76. Yourself: most of the time, yes

77. Miracles: no

78. Love at first sight: LOOK, I CAN’T WRITE A WHOLE PAPER ON THIS, but anyways tl;dr i’m not quite sure but i sure do feel quite invested in my opinon

79. Santa claus: no

81. Angels: no

Other:

82. Best friend’s name: LETICIA!!!! and no, it’s not me, her name is also leticia

83. Eye colour: dark brown

84. Fave movie: insidious, carol or donnie darko, and i’m not really sure about that any of those are really my fave i’m a concept not a person with interests

85. Fave actor: gDAVID TENNANT!!!! CATE BLANCHETT!!! Sarah Paulson, Benedict Cumberbatch, Viola Davis aka a goddess

I tag @heyyoucoolemo @fireicelapis @perhaps-trees-and-tea @clubfemmes @pend-r-a-g-o-n