we should mind the war child

Mike snickered as Shadow’s laughter turned to a plaintive pout. “Key word there being stole,” he pointed out sagely. “We need to dispose of the evidence swiftly before we’re caught red-handed, and that’ll go much faster with both of us working on it.” He winked as he accepted the spoon and settled the tray comfortably across his lap with Shadow’s help. “Your wartime sacrifice is greatly appreciated.” 

His first few spoonfuls of the chicken stew were slow and careful as he tested the steadiness of his hand and his general coordination, as well as his stomach’s receptiveness to food. There were no issues though, fortunately, and though he still ate slowly to properly savour the stew, Mike was able to turn the majority of his attention back to Shadow’s words as she described the final operation from her viewpoint. 

“Lucky indeed,” he murmured in quiet agreement. He knew better than to assume that they’d made it through without any losses - there were almost always losses - but he didn’t want to think about that right now, and he was grateful that Shadow didn’t bring it up. He’d find out later, and pay his respects as he always did, but that was a future him problem. For now he was content to eat his stew and enjoy the way his niece practically glowed with pride at her team’s performance.

“The Utrom sure do have a knack for showing up at the last possible moment,” Mike commented dryly once Shadow had finished, then grinned. “I wish I’d actually been able to see them swooping in to save the day, though. Especially when Leatherhead entered the fray! That woulda really been something to see. Even more so for people who don’t actually know ol’ LH!” He let out a low chuckle. “Can’t blame you for being concerned to start with though. Alien invasions aren’t usually a lot of fun.” He ate another spoonful of his dwindling stew, then raised a brow at Shadow. “So what’s the news from the other cities? Did the Utrom rock up all over, or just here?” 

“Just here, for now.” Shadow figured she’d earned a little of her brownie, and poked her finger into the gooey surface for a furtive early sample. “You probably already know the Utrom don’t really fight with numbers and brute force. Their ships looked impressive in the air, but, well . . . there are a lot of Foot. So, planet-wide, the outcomes are kinda mixed?”

She leaned back, sucking on her fudge-coated fingertip. “We took out their head honcho, so there’s definitely been a lot of give! I heard the Foot had outright surrendered in a couple of cities, where the loyalties and the numbers weren’t so strong. Others . . . not so much. We’ve weakened them everywhere, for sure, completely decentralised the regime, but the Shredder had some diehard fanatics - and power hungry lieutenants - who won’t let it go that easily.” 

Once Shadow had slipped out, Mike let himself sink back into the pillows, eyes sliding closed as he focused on conserving his energy without falling asleep. Fortunately, whatever his brothers were up to, it was keeping them well occupied - they remained absent for now, so he didn’t have to kick them out. 

As soon as he heard Shadow return, he blinked his eyes open again and returned her victorious grin with a look of anticipation. Said anticipation swiftly morphed into delight as Shadow unveiled the chocolate fudge, and Mike took a deep breath, savouring the sweet scent. Her comment about what the ‘F’ stood for made him snort a short laugh though before he looked back up at her. “I bet it stands for ‘Fudge’, right?” he replied, all exaggerated innocence. “Rest in fudgey pieces! Mmmm, fudge.” 

Once Shadow had unveiled the chicken stew, Mike let out a theatrical sigh, then nodded at her words. “As tempted as I am to faceplant into the fudge immediately, you speak wisdom,” he conceded with a little smile. “So! I’ll start with the stew first if you fill me in on the state of everything while I eat. Then you can help me devour the fudge.” He grinned wryly as he slowly, carefully worked himself up into a more upright sitting position. “Can you imagine the sugar high I’d get if I ate both slices all by myself? April would have words with me, no doubt!” 

Shadow laughed aloud at Mike’s deliberate misinterpretation of their cohort’s colourful decoration. Seeing him in high, comedic spirits was a boon for the soul, but she was glad he didn’t complain about eating the stew; he’d been in that stasis tube a long time, and needed more than sugar if he was going to get back on his feet.

“But I stole them both for you!” she mock-pouted, fishing out the spoon from where it had skittered underneath the edge of one of the plates. Her solemn expression was threatened by an encroaching grin as she handed it over to Mike and helped him with the tray, ejecting a dramatic sigh from her lungs. “I suppose I can help you in fudgey brownie duties, if you insist. In war, sacrifices must be made.”

She wouldn’t be mean and chow down on her treat before Mikey was ready for his, though - or before she’d earned it in the information trade. His brothers had undoubtedly filled him in on the high level details, but they were no substitute for information about the people. Leo and Raph weren’t close to the resistance, so Shadow launched into an overview of that final operation from the perspective of those on the ground outside. Perhaps only a handful of her family had been directly involved in killing the Shredder, but only because a carefully networked effort of the entire resistance had kept the worst of his forces divided and at bay outside his citadel.

“-and the numbers were insane out there, every squad had its work cut out for them. Enforcers, Karai-bots, the works. We all did such a great job, though.” Shadow faintly glowed with pride. “Stuck to the plan completely - draw out and distract, not attack and destroy, but it was tough going. We couldn’t retreat so easily, not if this was our big chance. It’s lucky you guys were able to finish your part so quickly, or we would have been overwhelmed before long.” 

She paused briefly, thinking about the squads and squad members who hadn’t made it. People who needed honouring but whom she wouldn’t name, not right now. Mike needed good news, not more of the bad. “Once the Shredder went down, you could pretty much see the news travelling around the enemy. Some seemed to get a second wind, but others started to break away from the fight. Of course, not long after, the sky was full of Utrom! Suddenly we had a whole lot of unexpected backup and the enemy leader was dead. I’d have run like hell, too, if I were them!”

“I have every faith in your ability to find me the best stuff,” Mike agreed with a grin, relieved to see Shadow’s mood lift so much. He had, after all, been the one to teach her how, and she’d been a diligent student. His grin softened at the affectionate pat against his plastron, then he watched with amusement as Shadow spun away before pausing at the door.

He quirked one brow ridge at Shadow’s comment about solo visiting rights - as much as he was enjoying having both his brothers around again, he could absolutely sympathise with his niece’s frustration. “Whaddya mean, ‘lately’? I’m always popular, missy!” He chuckled and gave her an understanding look. “But don’t worry, I’ll make sure you get me all to yourself for a little while longer. Now go on!” He waved her out with a grin. “Go forth, mighty hunter, and bring me back the spoils of victory!”

Shadow was reluctant to leave him, even with his reassurances that she wouldn’t be so easily displaced, but this was a mission of dire importance. Needs must!

When she returned some fifteen minutes later, she was carrying a tray with a couple of covered dishes on it. Shadow’s eyes swept the room quickly to ensure Mike had made good on his promise, and then she booted the door deftly closed behind her, wearing a victorious grin as she marched back to her bedside seat with her culinary treasure. She set it down carefully on the edge of the mattress.

“So here’s the deal. I may have acquired for you not one, but two of Cecil’s recently-famous sweet potato brownies.” Shadow lifted the lid off one plate, unveiling a pair of sizeable slabs of glistening chocolatey fudge goodness beneath it. One had the letter ‘S’ traced on it in a thick trail of syrup, and the other an ‘F’. “The man can bake. I think it counts as celebratory since he’s been writing ‘RIFP SHREDDER’ on every batch of twelve. I’m sure you can imagine what the ‘F’ stands for.”

Shadow gave a mischievous chuckle, but she dampened her enthusiasm as she unveiled the second delicacy - a small bowl of chicken stew, still steaming from the collective kitchen pot.   

Mike huffed out a wry breath. “Let’s make a deal then - I won’t apologise as long as you don’t, okay?” He offered her another lopsided smile, his eyes warm and understanding. “I can tell all those gross feelings and everything were weighing you down, and you feel much better now that they’re all off your chest, right? So! Nothing to apologise for.” 

Her questions made him pause and consider just how he was feeling - still weighed down with exhaustion, still a little sore and achy… but much better than when he’d first woken up. He also realised, with a touch of surprise, that he didn’t actually remember the last time he’d eaten actual, proper food, and the thought of food made his stomach growl audibly.

“I could definitely go for something to eat,” he replied lightly. “Actual food, too, not some… invalid slop.” He grimaced theatrically, paused for a beat, then added slyly, “Maybe you could even smuggle me a treat or several. There has got to have been some kinda celebratory cooking going on lately, and I’d hate to miss out.”

If she was glad to have all those gross feelings off her chest, Shadow brightened even more the instant Mike mentioned food. It made him sound the most like himself since before the almost-doomed mission, and she flashed him a delighted grin when she heard it.

“Well, unless you’re hungry for water,” she smirked with a shake of the utilitarian bottle that had been left by his bedside, “I’m afraid gonna have to go hunting to fulfill your challenging dietary requirements. Don’t worry, though, Uncle Mike - if anyone can find you the good stuff, it’s me.”

She gave him a gentle pat on the plastron - specifically the belly, since she was pretty sure his heart and soul rested there and not the chest - and twirled away for the room’s tiny door. Shadow paused before she could swing through it, however, turning back to her uncle.

Mike snickered as Shadow batted his hand away - the nose-boop had achieved the desired effect. He let his hand rest back against the bed, watching Shadow’s smile with relief and affection. “I can believe it,” he commented with a little smile - and it was true. Now that they’d finally defeated the Shredder once and for all, anything seemed possible. It would still take a lot of work, and wouldn’t be easy, but the possibility was there, within reach, almost tangible.

Shadow’s mention of a coordinated assault to clear the remnants of the Foot out of the city automatically started Mike considering various tactics and strategies for said assault - it would be a massive undertaking, and a lot would depend on what resources they had left and what they could potentially recover and repurpose from the Shredder’s base… if they still held it. His brow furrowed slightly as he realised just how out of the loop he was - he’d need to get updated as soon as possible…

That train of thought was abruptly derailed however at Shadow’s little sigh, and her comments about her mother. Mike let out a quiet sigh of his own, his expression sobering. “I know,” he murmured, his eyes closing briefly in recollection–

“We need to buy Donnie more time!” Hurling himself into the Karai-bots, felling them one by one, but for every one he dropped, it seemed three more took its place, and there was nobody at his back, nobody covering his six. Surrounded, desperate, too many bots hemming him in and nowhere to go– 

“Donnie! Donnie I’m–” Pain upon agony, tearing into him, and he was left bleeding and motionless on the floor–

I’m sorry… 

Awareness flickering in and out, despite his best efforts - he’d made a promise, he had to keep it, but darkness kept encroaching, and he was so tired - then… Don’s voice? Pleading, desperate. Don’s hands… 

Don vanishing. Again.

Then– nothing.

Mike gave his head a slight shake to dislodge the memories and looked back up at Shadow. “I’m sorry.” He sighed again, then managed a reassuring little smile. “But hey - that’s all in the past now. I’m on the mend, and I’ll be back on my feet and by April’s side again before you know it.”

Mike’s pause was brief, but noteworthy all the same; it carried a gravity that didn’t suit him, although Shadow knew sometimes he just kept it very well-hidden at the centre of himself. Mom said the battle had been bloody, even by the standards of her war-weary uncles. She’d seen the evidence of it herself while the three of them floated in stasis tubes, clinging to life by a thread. Small wonder the wounds and the experience still weighed on him. 

“Pshh.” Shadow sheepishly waved her hands. “I mean, I don’t doubt it, but don’t apologise. It wasn’t your fault, and you did the best you could. More than enough. Ugh, I’m the one who should say sorry. I kinda . . . ambushed you, as soon as you woke up, with feelings and everything. Rude, right?”

Mike’s grin broadened slightly at Shadow’s unfortunately visible blush, not hidden as much as she’d like as she buried her face against his hand. He resisted the brief urge to tease her about it though and kept quiet, letting her continue without interruption.

Her words triggered a rush of warmth through him, his heart feeling like it might just burst with emotion. His expression softened as he regarded his precious niece with overwhelming affection, tactfully ignoring the single escaped tear. “You’re absolutely welcome,” he replied with the utmost of sincerity, giving her fingers another gentle squeeze as he took a steadying breath. Even as the rest of his family had shattered away around him, April and Shadow had been there, anchoring him and holding him together, keeping him from crumbling.  “And thank you, too, for always being there for me as well. You and April both. It means more than the world to me.” 

Only then did he lift his hand to gently wipe the single tear away with the pad of his thumb, before booping Shadow’s nose with one finger and grinning mischievously. “So then, if there’s a ‘cool uncle’ badge, are there also T-shirts?” he asked lightly, offering Shadow an escape from the ‘mushiness’. “Or maybe jackets, with ‘cool uncle’ across the back in sequins and rhinestones… I think I’d look fabulous in rhinestones.” He gave a playful wink.

Shadow cradled an affectionate hand against Mike’s as he wiped her tear trail - then sputtered and batted it away with a laugh when he went for the dreaded nose boop. No matter how hard she tried, she’d never been able to see those coming.

“You would look fabulous in rhinestones,” Shadow agreed, her smile widening. Dislodging those heavy words from her chest had lifted a weight off her shoulders, and Mike’s cheer instantly helped to smooth over the edges of her emotions. “Maybe a 'cool uncle' merch factory - with sequins and rhinestones as standard - should be the first thing I build once the war is done. Clearing the Foot out of the city actually feels achievable now, can you believe it?” 

Her blue eyes gleamed with optimism. “There are a whole bunch of Shredder loyalists holding out, but since we cut off the head, they’re disorganised. My squad’s been involved in clearing the immediate area, but Mom’s working on plans to sweep the entire city in a coordinated assault, finish ‘em off before they can get their act together.” 

When Shadow’s pacing stopped and a smile crept back onto her face, Mike felt relief curl through him, his own smile widening slightly in response. He hated seeing his niece upset or distressed. 

The smile faded to a curious look though as Shadow moved back to his bedside, one brow ridge raising as she sank into her chair and grasped his hand again. He wrapped his thick fingers around hers, careful and gentle, and listened to her heartfelt assurances about his place in their future. He wished he could believe as ardently as she did, but he was all too aware of the reality of the situation - of how few people outside the Resistance actually knew about him and his brothers, of how humanity as a whole tended to react to those who were other. Perhaps things would change, eventually, but he wouldn’t hold his breath.

He’d never say as much to Shadow though - he’d rather lose his other arm than take that hope away from his niece. So he started to smile again, then let out an abrupt little huff of laughter at her sudden quip and cheeky grin, ignoring the dull spasm of pain shooting through his chest at the movement. “And that one is the only one I’ll ever need,” he replied with a grin of his own, his eyes warm and fond. “My little Shadow.” He lightly squeezed her hand. “I’m proud of you, kiddo. I hope you know that.”

Shadow let out a decidedly damp snort of laughter and buried her face immediately against Mike’s hand. “Shut uuup,” she moaned even as she smiled, praying the flush of warmth she felt from ear to ear wasn’t as visually radioactive as it felt. His praise meant so much to her, though - just as much as any that might come from her mother . . . or her father.

“Fine,” she sniffled dramatically. “If we’re being mushy, then I’m gonna bring my A game. There’s something I want to say to you, and I should have said it before your last mission, but I was too pissed off about being left out and didn’t think about it in time, and . . .” Shadow drew in a deep, steeling breath. “I almost didn’t get to say it at all. So!”

She looked up into his warm, compassionate eyes and clung tightly to his hand. “Mike . . . Thank you. For taking care of Mom and me, for being there after Dad died.” Her throat tightened too quickly, making the words wobble, and she rolled her eyes to the ceiling as if they could physically escape the brimming moisture. Goddamn it, couldn’t she at least have made it past the opening salvo first?

Keeping a Promise

Mike stayed silent and let Shadow talk uninterrupted, watching the play of emotions over her face. He wasn’t surprised when she abruptly pulled away and began pacing - there was a lot of Casey in her, that way.

A lot like Raph, too, when it came to it.

He let his hand rest back against the bed, pressing his palm against the sheets to preserve the warmth left behind. As Shadow turned to give him that familiar puppy-dog look - a look that he had taught her - Mike quirked a lopsided smile, his eyes gentle and reassuring. “Shadow…” He paused to take a breath and gather his thoughts. “You’re giving us far too much credit, and not giving yourself enough.” He let out a self-depreciating little huff of wry amusement. “We aren’t the only ones around who’d remember how things are supposed to be. There’s Angel, and Beckett, and Perry, and Tyler, and Esther, and… so many more. And once you had time to stop, and think, and remember all the stories we’ve shared with you over the years… you’d realise you know more than you think you do about how things should be, too. You are more than capable of doing anything that needs to be done.”

He took another slow, careful breath, fighting back the clinging exhaustion before meeting Shadow’s gaze again with steadfast sincerity. “And honestly… my brothers and I, at least, wouldn’t even know where to start when it comes to rebuilding human society. We lived in the sewers for most our lives, remember?” He shook his head slowly. “One way or another, rebuilding the future won’t really be up to us, not in any meaningful way.”

Shadow felt a flicker of guilt, watching Mike wade through his fatigue to respond to her. Dropping so much heavy stuff on him right now was unfair, but emotion burned too vivid and incandescent in her chest for her to rein it in. She’d come so damn close to losing him, sitting for anxious weeks on words she might never be able to share with him again. Holding anything back now simply wasn’t an option.

His wry smile had been sorely missed. Shadow stilled her pacing, transfixed by it, and though he couldn’t dispel all of her worries, his reassurances brought a warmth to her belly and a smile of her own to her face. When Mike told you that you were capable of anything, it was somehow very easy to believe it.

But those closing remarks . . . Shadow stepped back to the bedside and sank down into a seat. She was pouting a little, her brows knitted together.

“Whatever happens, you won’t be going back to the sewers,” she said stubbornly, closing both hands over his. “You didn’t just tell me stories. You are the stories. You’re heroes, and the one good thing that came out of the war is that everybody knows it now! If the future really is on the shoulders of people like me, I’m gonna make sure you’ve got a place in it. No more shadows for you.”