Tmntfangirl2002

This was requested by @shyflame003

 The first warning sign had been the shedding.

Not the scales—those were weird enough on their own—but the fur.

“Why is there so MUCH of it?!” Mikey cried, holding up another clump of dark green fuzz stuck to his arm. “Bro, he sheds like an alpaca!”

“He’s not an alpaca,” Raph grumbled.

“Then why is my pizza furry?!”

Down in the abandoned subway tunnels beneath New York, Y/N ducked his massive head guiltily, giant amber eyes soft and apologetic. The mutant lizard whined low in his throat and shifted his weight carefully.

A mistake.

CRRRRK.

Everyone froze.

Slash slowly lowered the crate of stolen grocery store produce he’d been carrying.

“…Tell me that wasn’t the wall.”

The tunnel wall cracked a little more.

Y/N immediately stopped moving altogether.

“…Oops.”

For over a month now, the giant mutant reptile had been living underground with Slash and the Mutanimals after the panic from his mutation finally died down. What had started as “temporary hiding” had turned into an increasingly complicated situation involving:

1. Fur and scale shedding everywhere.

2. Food costs high enough to bankrupt a small nation.

3. The horrifying realization that Y/N was still growing.

And currently?

Problem number three had evolved into a full-blown disaster.

Because Y/N was stuck.

“Okay,” Slash said slowly, pinching the bridge of his snout. “Maybe if you breathe out.”

“I AM breathing out!”

“Less.”

“How do I breathe LESS?!”

Y/N was currently wedged sideways between two support pillars in an old maintenance tunnel, one arm pinned awkwardly above his head while his tail disappeared somewhere behind him like a trapped alligator.

The Mutanimals had been trying to free him for three hours.

Three.

Hours.

Mondo Gecko was eating popcorn while watching.

Leatherhead had tried pulling.

That had only succeeded in making Y/N yelp and the tunnel groan ominously.

Slash stared at the disaster in exhausted silence.

Then, with the heaviest sigh of his life, he pulled out his T-Phone.

—

Raph arrived ten minutes later.

He stepped into the tunnel.

Looked at Y/N.

Looked at the cracked concrete.

Looked at Slash.

Then back at Y/N.

“…You gotta be kidding me.”

Y/N gave a tiny embarrassed wave.

“Hey, Raph.”

“HOW?!”

“I got hungry.”

“That does not explain ANYTHING!”

Slash folded his arms. “You said not to call your brothers.”

“I KNOW WHAT I SAID!”

Another crack echoed through the tunnel.

Raph looked up nervously.

“…Okay, yeah, no, secret’s over.”

—

Twenty minutes later the others arrived.

And somehow it got worse.

“Okay!” Leo announced, climbing off the Shellraiser with confidence. “We came prepared.”

Donnie jumped out after him carrying an alarming amount of equipment.

Mikey hopped out holding—

“…Is that butter?” Raph asked.

“Eight sticks,” Mikey said proudly.

“…Why?”

“I dunno. People grease up pigs sometimes.”

“That is NOT the same thing!”

Y/N buried his face in his claws.

“I’m gonna live here forever.”

“Aww, don’t say that, big guy,” Mikey said sympathetically. “We’ll get you unstuck.”

He paused.

“…Probably.”

“Encouraging,” Y/N muttered.

Donnie immediately entered full science mode, scanning the tunnel walls with a handheld device.

“Interesting. Structural integrity is declining at approximately—”

The ceiling dropped dust directly onto his head.

“…rapidly declining.”

“Great,” Raph groaned.

Leo crouched near Y/N’s side, inspecting the situation carefully.

“How did this even happen?”

Y/N looked ashamed.

“There was a pizza truck.”

“…A whole truck?”

“It smelled really good.”

Mikey gasped softly. “Honestly? Respect.”

“Not helping,” Raph snapped.

Slash crossed his arms. “We tried pulling him out already.”

“Forward or backward?” Donnie asked.

“…Both.”

“And?”

“Lots of screaming.”

Y/N pointed weakly. “Mostly me.”

Donnie adjusted his goggles.

“Hm. The issue isn’t just width. His dorsal spines are locking against the concrete edges whenever he moves.”

“Translation?” Mikey asked.

“He’s too pointy.”

“Ohhh.”

Donnie grinned suddenly.

“I have a plan.”

Raph immediately looked suspicious.

“That sentence has never ended well.”

—

Ten minutes later.

“Absolutely not,” Y/N said.

“You wanna stay stuck forever?” Donnie asked.

“…No.”

“Then trust me.”

The Shellraiser had been backed halfway into the tunnel. Attached to its rear winch was an elaborate pulley system Donnie had assembled with terrifying speed.

Leo held the blueprint.

Mikey held butter for some reason.

Raph stood nearby ready to catch falling debris.

Slash looked deeply regretful about every life choice that led here.

“Okay,” Donnie said, pointing. “Step one: Mikey applies lubrication.”

“YES!”

Mikey sprinted forward with horrifying enthusiasm.

“This is the weirdest day of my life,” Y/N whispered as butter got smeared along his scales.

“Trust me,” Leo replied. “This doesn’t even crack top ten for us.”

“Done!” Mikey announced proudly.

“You used ALL the butter?!” Raph yelled.

“He’s a large dude!”

Donnie ignored them and secured the winch cable carefully around Y/N’s torso.

“Now, on my mark, the Shellraiser pulls while Y/N exhales and rotates clockwise.”

Y/N blinked.

“…What?”

“Twist your hips.”

“…Oh.”

Raph snorted loudly.

“Shut up,” Y/N muttered.

“Everybody ready?” Leo called.

The group nodded.

Donnie raised a finger dramatically.

“Three…”

The winch motor whirred.

“Two…”

Concrete cracked.

“One!”

The cable tightened violently.

Y/N twisted.

The tunnel SHRIEKED.

And suddenly—

FWOOOOOMP.

Y/N shot free like a champagne cork.

Unfortunately physics immediately betrayed everyone involved.

The giant mutant lizard slid completely across the buttered tunnel floor and slammed directly into Raph.

“WHOA—”

CRASH.

Both of them smashed through a stack of old crates.

Dust exploded everywhere.

Silence.

Then Mikey burst into hysterical laughter.

“Oh my gosh—”

Raph shoved a crate off himself angrily.

“I HATE ALL OF YOU.”

Y/N lifted his head from the wreckage, dazed.

“…Am I free?”

“You are never allowed near narrow hallways again,” Slash said immediately.

Leo walked over, trying very hard not to laugh.

“You okay?”

Y/N looked sheepish.

“…I think I pulled something.”

Donnie adjusted his goggles smugly.

“But you are unstuck.”

“…Yeah.”

Another pause.

Then Y/N’s stomach growled loud enough to echo through the tunnel.

Everyone stared at him.

Y/N smiled nervously.

“…So, uh… anybody else smell tacos?”

Raph pointed aggressively.

“NO MORE FOOD TRUCKS.”

Mikey was already climbing back into the Shellraiser.

“Too late, I know a place open all night!”

Y/N’s tail wagged hard enough to knock over a traffic cone.

Slash groaned.

There was a faint buzzing sound in the lab.

Which, to be fair, wasn’t unusual.

What was unusual… was that Donatello had been staring at the same blinking light for the past three minutes without doing anything about it.

“…Donnie?”

No response.

You stepped closer, waving a hand in front of his face.

“Earth to genius?”

He blinked rapidly, like his brain had just rebooted.

“Oh! You’re—uh—you’re here,” he said, straightening up so fast he knocked a tool off the table. “I knew that. Obviously.”

You raised an eyebrow. “You’ve been staring at that thing like it personally offended you.”

“It does offend me,” he said quickly, turning back to the device. “It’s a prototype energy stabilizer and it’s behaving in a completely illogical—uh—way.”

“Uh-huh.”

You leaned on the table, watching him fiddle with wires a little too aggressively.

“…You okay?”

“I’m fine,” he said immediately. Too immediately.

“Donnie.”

“I’m perfectly fine.”

“Donatello.”

He froze.

“…Okay, I might be experiencing a minor… cognitive disruption.”

You tried not to smile. “A what?”

“My brain isn’t functioning at its usual optimal capacity,” he explained, gesturing vaguely. “Which is problematic, considering my usual capacity is significantly above average—”

“Donnie.”

“—but for some reason, I can’t seem to focus when you’re—”

He stopped.

Very slowly, he turned toward you.

“…present,” he finished, much quieter.

There it was.

You tilted your head. “Are you saying I break your brain?”

“I wouldn’t phrase it like that,” he said quickly. “It’s more like… you introduce variables I haven’t accounted for.”

You grinned. “That sounds worse.”

“It’s not worse! It’s just—different. Unexpected. Statistically improbable, even.”

You crossed your arms, amused. “Wow. I’ve officially been labeled a problem by a genius.”

“You’re not a problem,” he said, a little too earnest. “You’re just… distracting.”

You blinked.

“…Oh.”

He winced. “That didn’t come out right.”

“No, no—it did,” you said, smiling slightly. “Just not in the way you meant.”

“I meant it in a—uh—non-negative context,” he clarified, now fully flustered. “Like when a fascinating anomaly diverts attention from routine data because it’s… noteworthy.”

You stared at him.

“…Did you just call me an anomaly?”

“A fascinating anomaly,” he corrected.

You laughed.

And just like that, he relaxed a little—shoulders dropping, expression softening.

“That’s a new one,” you said.

“I’m not great with… this,” he admitted, gesturing between you and him. “Feelings are… less predictable than science.”

“Yeah,” you said. “They kind of are.”

He glanced at you, then away, then back again—like he was building up the courage to say something.

“…But I like trying to figure them out,” he added.

Your smile softened.

“Even if it messes with your ‘optimal capacity’?” you teased.

“…Especially then,” he said.

The device behind him sparked suddenly.

Both of you jumped.

“Oh—right—the stabilizer!” Donnie spun around, frantically adjusting dials. “See, this is exactly what I mean—loss of focus leads to catastrophic—”

The machine powered down with a soft click.

Silence.

He blinked.

“…Oh. I fixed it.”

You leaned over his shoulder. “So your brain works again?”

He hesitated.

“…Mostly.”

“Mostly?”

He looked at you, a small, shy smile forming.

“…There’s still one variable I haven’t solved.”

You raised an eyebrow. “And what’s that?”

He rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly very interested in the floor.

“…How to tell you I like you without sounding like a malfunctioning computer.”

You stared at him for a second.

Then you smiled.

“I think you just did.”

His head snapped up. “I—what—really?”

“Yeah,” you said, laughing softly. “And for the record, I don’t mind being your ‘fascinating anomaly.’”

He smiled—wide, genuine, a little disbelieving.

“…That’s a relief.”

You nudged his arm. “Just don’t expect me to follow your equations.”

“That’s okay,” he said. “I can handle the equations.”

Another pause.

“…You can just stay.”

Your heart did a small, inconvenient flip.

“…I think I can do that.”

Behind you, something else in the lab started beeping.

Donnie glanced at it, then back at you.

“…I’ll get that later.”

You smirked. “Wow. Must be a pretty important variable.”

He adjusted his glasses, trying (and failing) to look composed.

You weren’t exactly trained.

That was the problem.

“Left—no, your other left!” Leonardo called, stepping in as your swing went wide.

“I know my left!” you argued, nearly losing your balance as you corrected yourself.

Leo caught your wrist before you could stumble completely, steadying you.

“…You okay?” he asked.

You huffed. “I would be if someone wasn’t critiquing my every move.”

“I’m not critiquing,” he said, releasing your wrist a little too quickly. “I’m… guiding.”

You gave him a look. “That sounded better in your head, didn’t it?”

“…Maybe.”

For a moment, neither of you moved.

The training room in the lair felt quieter than usual—no Mikey blasting music, no Raph complaining, no Donnie tinkering loudly in the corner. Just you and Leo.

Which, lately, had been happening more often.

“Again,” Leo said, slipping back into his stance. “Focus this time. Don’t rush.”

You mirrored him, gripping the practice weapon tighter.

“Okay… but if I mess up, you’re not allowed to give me that disappointed sensei look.”

“I don’t have a disappointed sensei look.”

“You totally do.”

He paused. “…Do I really?”

“Yes.”

“…Huh.”

You smiled a little. “It’s not as scary as you think.”

“That’s not exactly reassuring.”

You stepped forward, attacking again—more controlled this time. Leo blocked, guiding your movement instead of stopping it completely.

“Better,” he said. “You’re actually thinking now.”

“Wow. High praise.”

“I’m serious.”

There was something in his tone that made you glance up.

He wasn’t just focused on the training.

He was watching you.

Your next move faltered, and he caught your arm again—this time closer, more instinctive.

“Careful,” he said softly.

Your breath hitched for a second.

“I’m trying,” you replied, quieter now.

“I know.”

He didn’t let go right away.

Then, like he realized it, he stepped back quickly, clearing his throat.

“Uh—stance,” he said, gesturing vaguely. “Your stance is off.”

You blinked. “…You just forgot what you were going to say, didn’t you?”

“No, I didn’t.”

“You did.”

“I didn’t.”

“Leo.”

“…Okay, maybe a little.”

You laughed, and he relaxed—just a bit.

That was the thing about him. Always composed, always focused… until you threw him off balance in ways no enemy ever could.

“Why do you even bother training me?” you asked after a moment. “I slow you down more than I help.”

Leo’s expression shifted instantly.

“You don’t,” he said, firm. “You just need practice.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

He hesitated.

“…I know.”

Silence stretched between you again, but this time it wasn’t awkward. Just… honest.

“I train you because you want to learn,” he continued. “And because… I trust you.”

You blinked. “You trust me?”

“With us. With me.” He met your eyes, steady despite the faint nervousness underneath. “That matters.”

Your chest tightened a little.

“Leo…”

“And,” he added quickly, almost tripping over his own words now, “it’s easier to focus when you’re around.”

You smiled softly. “Pretty sure I just proved the opposite.”

“…Okay, sometimes it’s harder,” he admitted.

You stepped a little closer. “So why keep me around?”

He exhaled slowly, like he was working through something in real time.

“…Because I want to,” he said finally.

No jokes. No deflection.

Just the truth.

You held his gaze, your heart doing something annoying and noticeable.

“…Then I guess I’ll keep trying not to mess up,” you said.

“You’re allowed to mess up,” Leo replied. “That’s part of learning.”

You smirked. “Good. Because I’m really good at that part.”

He smiled faintly.

“Yeah,” he said. “I’ve noticed.”

Another beat passed—quiet, but comfortable.

Then Leo stepped back into position, composure snapping back into place… mostly.

“Alright,” he said. “One more round.”

You raised your weapon. “Try not to get distracted this time, sensei.”

He gave you a look—that look.

“…I do not have a sensei look.”

You grinned. “You definitely do.”

He shook his head, but there was a softness in his eyes now that hadn’t been there before.

“Focus,” he said.

You weren’t supposed to be here.

That was the first thought running through Raphael’s head as he watched you duck behind a crumbling concrete pillar, breathing way too loud for someone trying not to be noticed.

“Stay down!” he snapped from across the room, sai clashing against metal as he deflected a Kraang bot’s attack.

“I am down!” you shot back, voice shaking despite your attempt to sound tough.

Yeah. Sure you are.

Raph grit his teeth. This was exactly why he didn’t like you tagging along. It wasn’t that you couldn’t handle yourself—you could, sometimes—but this? This was different. This was dangerous.

And if anything happened to you—

He shoved that thought away and lunged forward, taking down the Kraang bot with a hard strike. Metal clattered to the floor.

“Raph, behind you!” you yelled.

Too late.

Another Kraang bot grabbed him from behind, its mechanical grip tightening. He struggled, muscles straining, but the hold didn’t budge.

Then—

CRACK.

The bot jerked and collapsed, releasing him.

Raph turned, startled.

You stood there, breathing hard, holding a broken pipe like it weighed a hundred pounds.

“…You good?” you asked, trying to play it off.

For a second, he just stared at you.

Then his expression hardened.

“What are you doing?!” he barked, stepping toward you. “I told you to stay put!”

“I was staying put until you were about to get your shell crushed!” you fired back.

“I didn’t need your help!”

“Yeah? Looked like you did!”

The room went quiet except for the faint hum of broken Kraang tech.

Raph’s jaw tightened. He hated this feeling—the twist in his chest, the anger mixed with something else he didn’t want to name.

“You don’t get it,” he muttered, voice lower now. “This isn’t a game. You could’ve gotten hurt.”

“I know that,” you said, softer this time. “But I’m not just gonna sit there and watch you get hurt either.”

That hit harder than anything.

Raph looked away, rubbing the back of his neck. “That’s… different.”

“How?”

He hesitated. Words weren’t exactly his thing.

“…Because it’s you,” he admitted, quieter than you’d ever heard him.

You blinked. “What?”

He groaned. “Don’t make me say it twice.”

But you didn’t push. You didn’t tease him like Mikey would, didn’t overanalyze it like Donnie.

You just smiled a little.

“…You worry about me,” you said.

Raph crossed his arms, scowling. “Yeah, well—someone’s gotta. You’re reckless.”

You raised an eyebrow. “I’m reckless?”

“Don’t start.”

A small laugh slipped out of you, and for once, he didn’t snap at it.

Instead, he stepped closer, eyes scanning you for injuries.

“You okay?” he asked, more quietly now.

“Yeah,” you nodded. “Thanks to you.”

He huffed. “Yeah, well… next time, stay behind me. Got it?”

You tilted your head. “So I can come next time?”

Raph froze.

“…Don’t push your luck.”

But he didn’t say no.

And when another distant noise echoed through the building, he instinctively moved in front of you anyway.

“C’mon,” he muttered. “Stick close. And don’t do anything stupid.”

You smirked. “No promises.”

He glanced back at you, a faint, reluctant grin tugging at his lips.

Okay, hear me out—pickle and peanut butter pizza.”

You stopped mid-step.

“…No.”

Michelangelo spun around in his chair, eyes wide with excitement. “You didn’t even think about it!”

“I did. For half a second. And that was enough.”

“That’s not scientific!” he protested, grabbing a slice of his current creation—something that looked questionable at best. “You gotta experiment! That’s how all the best stuff happens.”

“Pretty sure that’s also how disasters happen.”

He gasped dramatically. “Wow. You wound me.”

You snorted, leaning against the back of the couch. “You’ll survive.”

“Barely,” he said, taking a bite anyway. “…Okay, yeah, that one’s a no.”

“Told you.”

Mikey shrugged like it didn’t matter, tossing the slice back in the box. “That’s part of the process.”

You shook your head, smiling despite yourself.

That was the thing about Mikey—nothing ever stayed serious for long. Even in the middle of chaos, he found a way to laugh it off.

“…You’re staring,” he said suddenly.

You blinked. “What?”

“You’ve been staring at me,” he repeated, narrowing his eyes playfully. “Like, hard.”

“I have not.”

“Have too.”

“Have not.”

“Have—” He stopped, tilting his head. “…Wait. Were you admiring my genius?”

You laughed. “Sure. Let’s go with that.”

“Nice,” he grinned, clearly accepting that answer without question. “Can’t blame you. It’s a lot to take in.”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re unbelievable.”

“I get that a lot.”

There was a comfortable silence for a moment—just the hum of the lair and the faint sound of Donnie working in the background.

Then Mikey scooted a little closer.

“Hey,” he said, quieter now. “You good?”

You glanced at him. “Yeah. Why?”

He shrugged, but his expression softened. “Dunno. You’ve just been kinda… quiet today.”

You hesitated.

It wasn’t anything major. Just one of those days where everything felt a little off.

“…Just tired, I guess,” you said.

Mikey studied you for a second longer than usual.

Then, without warning, he gently bumped his shoulder into yours.

“C’mere,” he said.

Before you could ask what he meant, he flopped sideways onto the couch, dragging you down with him into a loose, slightly chaotic half-hug.

“Mikey—!”

“Shhh,” he said, settling in like this was completely normal. “Doctor Mikey prescribes… chill time.”

You tried to sit up.

He tightened his grip—still gentle, but surprisingly stubborn.

“Nope. Not allowed.”

“You can’t just trap me here.”

“I absolutely can. It’s called emotional support.”

You huffed, but you didn’t actually try that hard to get away.

“…You’re weird,” you muttered.

“Yeah,” he said easily. “But it’s working, isn’t it?”

You paused.

…It kind of was.

Your shoulders relaxed a little, the tension easing just from the warmth and the ridiculousness of the situation.

“…Maybe,” you admitted.

“Boom. Science,” he said proudly.

“That’s not science.”

“It is now.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head.

After a minute, you glanced up at him.

“…Why do you do that?”

“Do what?”

“This,” you said, gesturing vaguely. “The… cheering people up thing.”

Mikey blinked, like the question caught him off guard.

“I dunno,” he said after a second. “Feels right, I guess.”

You watched him, something in your chest tightening just a little.

“…You’re really good at it.”

He grinned. “I know.”

You snorted. “Of course you’d say that.”

“But,” he added, quieter now, “I mean it more with you.”

That made you pause.

“…What?”

He shrugged, suddenly a little less confident. “You just… matter more, I guess.”

Your heart did that annoying thing again.

“Mikey…”

He scratched the back of his neck, looking a little embarrassed now. “Don’t make it weird.”

“I’m not making it weird, you just said something—”

“I said a thing, yeah,” he cut in quickly. “And it was a cool thing. So we’re just gonna—y’know—leave it there.”

You smiled softly.

“…You like me.”

His eyes widened. “What—no—I mean—yeah—but—”

You laughed.

“Relax,” you said. “It’s okay.”

He stared at you for a second.

“…Wait,” he said slowly. “You’re not freaking out.”

“Should I be?”

“No! No, that’s good. Freaking out would be bad. This is good. I like this.”

You nudged him lightly. “You’re rambling.”

“I ramble when I’m nervous,” he admitted.

“You’re nervous?”

“Duh,” he said. “You’re important.”

That shut you up for a second.

“…You’re important too,” you said quietly.

Mikey blinked.

Then his grin came back—softer this time, but real.

“Nice,” he said.

Another quiet moment passed, but it wasn’t awkward.

Just… easy.

Then, of course—

“Okay, but seriously,” he added, sitting up suddenly, “we’re trying the pickle peanut butter pizza next.”

You groaned. “Mikey—”

“Trust the process!”

You laughed, shaking your head as he pulled you up with him.

Maybe it sounded ridiculous.

But somehow…

By the time they got you off the street, the city had quieted—but not in a comforting way.

More like it was watching.

“Up here,” Leonardo said, already moving, keeping his voice low and steady like he always did when things got complicated.

You were still holding onto him.

Not as tightly as before, but enough that every time he shifted, you followed like it was instinct.

“I am up here,” you mumbled, slightly delayed.

“Yeah,” Raphael muttered behind you. “That’s the problem.”

“Shh,” Michelangelo whispered, grinning. “You’ll scare her off.”

“She literally hugged Leo,” Raph shot back. “I don’t think she scares easy.”

You perked up just enough to glance over your shoulder.

“I’m very brave,” you informed him.

“Clearly,” Donatello said, not looking up from the scanner he’d pulled out, even while walking. “Or your judgment is significantly impaired.”

“Donnie,” Leo warned.

“What? It’s an observation.”

They reached the edge of the building. Fire escape ladder. Narrow drop. Normal for them.

Not for you.

Leo hesitated.

“…Okay,” he started, carefully, “this part might feel—”

You stepped right off the edge.

Raph lunged forward on pure reflex. “HEY—”

Leo caught you mid-drop, arms locking around you before you even registered what you’d done.

You blinked at him.

“…Oh,” you said.

Mikey wheezed. “She just walked off like it was a curb!”

“I thought there were stairs,” you added, like that explained everything.

“There are not stairs,” Donnie said.

Leo didn’t let go this time.

“…I’ve got you,” he said, more to himself than you, before lowering both of you down properly.

—

The lair was quiet when they slipped in.

Dim lights. Low hum of machines. Familiar.

Safe.

“Okay,” Donnie said immediately, flipping on a brighter light and gesturing toward the couch. “Let’s—uh—set you down here.”

Leo guided you over.

You let go of him reluctantly, like you’d just remembered you had the option.

“…Nice place,” you said, squinting around. “Very… sewer chic.”

Mikey snorted.

“Thank you,” he said proudly. “We worked really hard on the ambiance.”

Raph leaned against the wall, arms crossed, still watching you like you might suddenly sprout extra limbs.

“Alright,” he said. “Now what?”

“Now we assess,” Donnie replied, already circling you—not in a creepy way, but definitely in a scientific curiosity way. “Your pupils are slightly dilated, balance is inconsistent, speech mildly slurred—”

“I’m fine,” you said.

You were not fine.

You immediately leaned sideways and almost fell off the couch.

Leo caught you again.

“…You’re not fine,” he said.

You looked up at him, then smiled like that was his fault somehow.

“Still the best costume,” you decided.

Mikey clapped a hand over his mouth.

Raph turned away, shoulders shaking.

Donnie adjusted his goggles, trying very hard to stay on topic. “Right. Hydration would help. Possibly rest.”

“I’ll get water,” Leo said quickly—too quickly—and gently extricated himself from your grip.

You followed him with your eyes like he’d just walked off with your sense of direction.

“…He’s a good one,” you told the room.

Mikey lost it again. “Oh my—she picked a favorite!”

“I did not sign up for this,” Raph muttered, though he didn’t sound nearly as annoyed as he wanted to.

Donnie handed you a glass the second Leo returned.

“Drink,” he instructed.

You squinted at it.

“…Is this one of those things where you’re secretly testing me?”

“It’s water.”

“…Suspicious.”

“It’s water.”

You took a sip anyway.

Paused.

Then nodded like you’d just confirmed something important.

“Acceptable.”

Leo exhaled quietly.

“Okay,” he said, crouching slightly in front of you now, voice gentler. “Do you know where you’re staying?”

You blinked at him.

“…The con?”

“No.”

“…The afterparty?”

“No.”

“…My—” you stopped, thinking very hard.

Everyone waited.

“…Huh.”

Raph dragged a hand down his face. “Great.”

Donnie was already thinking three steps ahead. “We may need to identify her through external means—badge, phone, anything—”

“Oh!” you perked up suddenly, digging around in your bag with intense focus.

You pulled out… a handful of glitter.

“…Nope.”

Mikey leaned over. “Honestly, still useful.”

You dug again.

Snacks.

A crumpled flyer.

A single fake fang.

“Nope.”

Leo tried—he really did—to stay patient.

“…Take your time.”

Finally, you pulled out your phone.

Held it up triumphantly.

Then frowned at it.

“…It’s… locked.”

“Do you know the passcode?” Donnie asked.

You stared at the screen like it had personally betrayed you.

“…It used to know me.”

Raph groaned.

Mikey flopped onto the arm of the couch, grinning. “Okay, new plan—we adopt her.”

“No,” Leo said immediately.

“Counterpoint: yes.”

You leaned sideways again—this time just resting your head against Leo’s shoulder like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“…I like this plan,” you mumbled.

Leo froze.

Again.

Raph pointed. “There it is. He’s doing the statue thing again.”

“I am not—”

“You totally are.”

Donnie, somehow still the most composed, adjusted his glasses. “Logistically speaking, temporary shelter is the most efficient solution until she regains full cognitive function.”

Leo closed his eyes briefly.

Of course it was.

When he opened them again, you were already half-asleep against him, breathing slow, completely at ease like this wasn’t weird at all.

Like they weren’t the weirdest part of your night.

He looked at his brothers.

Mikey gave him two enthusiastic thumbs up.

Raph just shook his head, but there was a smirk there now.

Donnie nodded once. “We’ll figure it out in the morning.”

Leo sighed.

“…Yeah,” he said quietly.

Then, after a second, he shifted just slightly—enough to make sure you were actually comfortable.

You didn’t wake up.

You just leaned closer.

“…Told you I’d find you,” you murmured, barely audible.

Mikey’s grin softened, just a little.

Raph didn’t say anything this time.

And Leo—

Leo didn’t move at all.

Morning in the lair didn’t come with sunlight.

It came with noise.

Clanking metal. The low whir of machines. Someone arguing about toaster settings.

And you—

—woke up like you’d been hit by a truck.

“…ugh,” you groaned, dragging a hand over your face.

Pause.

That didn’t feel like your face.

You froze.

Slowly—very slowly—you opened one eye.

Stone ceiling.

Dim lights.

Very not your room.

“…nope,” you whispered, and immediately shut your eye again like that might undo reality.

Across the room, Michelangelo leaned over the back of the couch, already watching.

“Oh, she’s up,” he stage-whispered.

“Keep it down,” Raphael muttered from the kitchen area. “You’ll spook her.”

“I’m not a deer,” you said, voice hoarse.

Mikey lit up. “She talks!”

You cracked both eyes open this time.

And immediately wished you hadn’t.

Four turtles.

Actual. Real. Standing-around-having-a-conversation turtles.

You blinked.

Once.

Twice.

“…okay,” you said slowly, sitting up with the kind of care usually reserved for unstable explosives. “I either drank way too much… or I finally snapped.”

“Good morning to you too,” Donatello said, not even looking up from his lap top that was in his hands.

You stared at him.

“…you talk.”

“Yes.”

“…full sentences.”

“Preferably.”

You pressed both hands to your face—again, not your face, oh god—and inhaled deeply.

“Alright. Okay. We’re gonna be calm about this.”

Raph snorted. “This should be good.”

You pointed at him.

“Don’t—don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Be sarcastic. It’s not helping.”

Mikey leaned closer, absolutely delighted. “I like her.”

You looked at him next.

“…you’re orange.”

“Thank you!”

“That wasn’t a compliment.”

“Still taking it.”

You turned—very carefully—to the one you recognized most clearly.

Leonardo stood a little off to the side, arms crossed, watching you in that calm, assessing way that made him look like he had his life together.

Which, right now, felt deeply unfair.

You squinted at him.

“…blue,” you said.

“…yes.”

“…you’re the one I hugged.”

There was a very noticeable pause.

Behind him, Mikey made a strangled noise.

Raph looked like he’d been waiting for this exact moment.

Donnie actually glanced up.

Leo, to his credit, didn’t immediately combust.

“…Yes,” he said, carefully neutral.

You nodded once.

“…okay.”

Another pause.

“…I’m gonna need a minute.”

“Take five,” Raph said. “Take ten.”

You swung your legs off the couch.

Regretted it immediately.

“…nope, still dizzy,” you muttered, grabbing the armrest to steady yourself.

Leo moved before anyone else did—just a step closer, not touching, but ready.

You noticed.

Of course you did.

“…you do that a lot?” you asked, gesturing vaguely.

“Do what?”

“Catch people.”

Mikey snorted. “Only when they fall off buildings.”

You froze.

“…I fell off a building?”

“You walked off,” Raph corrected.

“…I walked off a building.”

“Like it was a sidewalk,” Donnie added.

You stared at them.

Then very slowly turned back to Leo.

“…did you catch me?”

“…yes.”

“…twice?”

“…yes.”

You took that in.

Processed it.

Then pointed at him again, very serious.

“…you’re my favorite.”

Mikey collapsed onto the couch. “CALLED IT.”

Leo pinched the bridge of his nose. “Please don’t encourage that.”

Raph smirked. “Too late.”

You rubbed your face again, trying to piece things together.

“…okay. Convention,” you started. “Costume. Probably a bad decision involving alcohol—”

“Accurate,” Donnie said.

“—almost got mugged—”

“Also accurate.”

“—and then…” you gestured at all of them. “…this.”

Mikey spread his arms. “Best part of the night!”

You squinted at him.

“…you’re weirdly okay with this.”

“Hey, I’ve been saying we should meet humans for years.”

Raph elbowed him. “Not like this.”

You looked between them.

Then down at yourself.

Then back at them.

“…I thought you were cosplayers.”

Mikey gasped. “We do blend in!”

Donnie raised a finger. “Temporarily, under very specific lighting conditions—”

“We are not cosplayers,” Leo said, cutting in gently.

You met his eyes.

Searched for the joke.

Didn’t find one.

“…huh.”

That landed a little heavier than everything else.

Not panic—just… recalibration.

You nodded slowly.

“Okay,” you said. “Cool. Cool cool cool.”

Raph blinked. “That’s it?”

“What do you want me to do?” you shot back. “Scream? Pass out? I already did the ‘walk off a building’ thing, I feel like I’ve hit my quota for bad reactions.”

“…fair,” he admitted.

You exhaled.

“…you guys saved me.”

It wasn’t a question.

Leo didn’t make it one.

“…yeah.”

You looked at him for a second longer—clearer now, more grounded.

“…thanks.”

Simple.

Real.

It hit a little different than the drunk version.

Mikey smiled, softer this time. “See? She’s cool.”

Donnie nodded. “Agreed.”

Raph shrugged. “She didn’t freak out. That’s something.”

Leo just inclined his head slightly.

“…you’re welcome.”

There was a brief, quiet moment.

Then your stomach growled.

Loud.

You closed your eyes.

“…no one heard that.”

Mikey immediately popped up. “Breakfast time!”

Raph groaned. “We are not feeding a stray—”

“She’s not a stray, she’s a guest!”

“Since when do we have guests?!”

Donnie was already moving toward the kitchen. “Technically, this is a controlled interaction study—”

Leo sighed.

“…we have food,” he said.

You perked up instantly.

“…you’re my second favorite now.”

Mikey clutched his chest. “I’ve been promoted!”

Raph shook his head, but he was smiling now.

And just like that—

The weirdest night of your life rolled straight into the weirdest morning.

And somehow?

The city always felt louder after midnight—like it finally stopped pretending to behave.

From a rooftop overlooking the street, Leonardo crouched at the edge, hands resting on his knees, blue eyes locked on the chaos below.

“Is this… normal?” he asked.

“Nope,” Donatello said, adjusting his goggles as he scanned the crowd. “Based on my observations, this appears to be some sort of mass gathering of—” he paused, zooming in on a guy dressed like a ten-foot-tall robot— “—questionable life choices.”

“It’s called a convention, genius,” Michelangelo said, practically bouncing. “People dress up as their favorite characters. It’s awesome. It’s like Halloween but with less candy and more commitment.”

Below them, the sidewalks were packed with people in elaborate costumes—aliens, monsters, superheroes, things that didn’t even look human.

Which, for once, made the turtles blend in.

Raphael crossed his arms. “I don’t like it.”

“You don’t like anything,” Mikey shot back.

“I like not being spotted,” Raph muttered.

Leo didn’t answer. He was still watching—taking it all in, the noise, the lights, the sheer… normalcy of people just existing out there.

“…We could walk through that,” he said quietly.

Donnie blinked. “Technically, yes. Statistically, someone would eventually notice anatomical inconsistencies, but—”

“I’m just saying,” Leo added quickly, like he hadn’t just admitted that out loud.

Mikey grinned. “Oh, he wants to go.”

“I do not—”

“He totally wants to go.”

Before Leo could defend himself, a sudden commotion down the block snapped all their attention.

A figure stumbled out of a building—half-lit by a flickering streetlamp.

You.

Your costume was… intense. Full prosthetics, layered makeup, horns curling from your head, something not entirely human stitched into every detail. You looked less like someone in costume and more like something that had crawled out of a nightmare and decided to accessorize.

And you were very, very unsteady on your feet.

“…Okay, that one might be real,” Raph said.

“Negative,” Donnie replied automatically, though he sounded less sure this time. “Probably latex application. Advanced, but—wow, that’s impressive blending.”

You took three determined steps forward, tripped on absolutely nothing, and caught yourself on a mailbox.

“Graceful,” Mikey whispered.

Then two guys peeled off from the sidewalk—wrong kind of energy, wrong kind of attention.

“Hey,” one of them called, stepping into your path.

You blinked at them like you were trying to remember how eyes worked.

“Nice costume,” the other said, though his tone made it clear he didn’t mean it.

Up on the roof, all four turtles tensed.

“Yeah, that’s not a fan interaction,” Raph muttered.

Before anyone could move, one of the guys reached out—probably aiming for your bag.

You swayed, lifted your head slowly—

And smiled.

Not a normal smile. A wide, slightly unfocused, way too many teeth showing kind of smile, helped along by the prosthetics that made your face just a little too sharp, a little too wrong.

“…Hey,” you said, voice drifting.

The streetlight flickered.

For half a second, the shadows hit your face just right—your eyes darkened, the contours of your makeup deepened, and you looked exactly like something that should not be approached by anyone with survival instincts.

The guy froze.

“…Dude,” his friend whispered.

You took a slow, wobbly step toward them.

“Hey,” you repeated, softer this time.

They bolted.

Like—immediately.

No hesitation. No tough guy act. Just pure, unanimous nope.

The turtles stared.

“…What just happened?” Leo asked.

Mikey snorted. “Bro, she scared ‘em off!”

You watched the empty space where they’d been, processing at your own pace.

“…Rude,” you mumbled.

Then you turned—

And spotted four very large, very real turtles standing halfway in the open because Mikey had leaned too far over the edge.

Your face lit up.

“Oh my GOD,” you gasped.

“Uh—” Donnie started.

You pointed at them like you’d just found buried treasure.

“You guys!” you said, stumbling forward.

Raph immediately took a step back. “Nope.”

Leo held up a hand. “Wait—”

Too late.

You closed the distance in a zigzag line that defied physics and good decision-making, then launched yourself forward—

And wrapped your arms around Leo.

There was a very specific kind of silence that followed.

The kind where everyone’s brain just… stopped.

Leo went rigid.

Completely rigid.

Like someone had replaced him with a statue mid-hug.

“…I found you,” you mumbled into his plastron, sounding deeply relieved. “You ditched me after the panel. Rude.”

Mikey choked on a laugh.

Raph’s eyes went wide. “She’s touching him.”

Donnie was frozen, hands hovering uselessly in the air. “I don’t have a protocol for this.”

Leo, meanwhile, looked like he was trying to reboot his entire existence.

“…I—uh—” he managed.

You tightened the hug.

“Don’t wander off,” you added, patting him like he was the irresponsible one.

Mikey lost it.

“Okay—okay—this is the best night ever,” he wheezed.

“Get her off!” Raph hissed, though he didn’t actually move to help.

“I’m trying to assess the situation!” Donnie whispered back.

Leo very carefully lifted his hands… hovered them awkwardly… then lightly patted your shoulder like he was afraid you might explode.

“There—there,” he said, because apparently that was the best he could do.

You hummed, satisfied.

Then you leaned back just enough to squint at his face.

“…Wow,” you said, impressed. “Your suit is amazing.”

Mikey grinned. “Oh, this is gonna be good.”

You reached up and poked Leo’s cheek.

He flinched.

“…That’s some next-level realism,” you continued, nodding. “Like—wow. Who did your makeup?”

Leo opened his mouth.

Closed it.

Looked at his brothers.

Mikey gave him a thumbs up.

Raph looked like he was about to pass out from holding in laughter.

Donnie just mouthed, Say something.

“…We, uh,” Leo started slowly, “do our own work.”

“Respect,” you said immediately, clearly impressed.

Then you swayed again.

Leo caught you on instinct.

That did not help his situation.

“Okay,” Donnie said quickly, stepping in. “New plan. She is clearly—um—compromised.”

“Tipsy,” Mikey supplied.

“Possibly,” Donnie agreed.

Raph glanced down the street. “And still in the open.”

Leo nodded, finally snapping back into leader mode—sort of.

“…We can’t just leave her here.”

“Aw, look at you,” Mikey teased. “Already attached.”

Leo shot him a look. “Focus.”

You, meanwhile, had decided Leo was your anchor to reality and were not letting go.

“…You guys are the best costumes here,” you informed them, very seriously. “Ten outta ten. Would hug again.”

Raph snorted.

Leo sighed—quiet, resigned.

“…We need to get her somewhere safe.”

Mikey grinned. “Sleepover at the lair?”

“No.”

“Yes.”

Donnie adjusted his goggles. “Statistically speaking, leaving her unattended increases risk variables significantly—”

“Fine,” Leo cut in. “But we keep it low-profile.”

Raph shook his head, already turning away. “This is a terrible idea.”

Mikey slung an arm around Donnie. “This is the best idea.”

Leo looked down at you—still clinging to him like he was the only solid thing in a spinning world—and let out another quiet sigh.

“…Okay,” he said.

You smiled up at him, completely trusting.

“Lead the way, fearless leader.”

Mikey wheezed.

Leo closed his eyes for half a second.

“…I regret everything.”

The first sign something was wrong was the silence.

The lair was never this quiet. Not when four teenage mutant turtles lived there.

Leonardo noticed it first while walking back from patrol. The usual sounds—Donnie tapping at his keyboard, Raph complaining about something, Mikey loudly narrating whatever he was doing—were missing.

“…Guys?” Leo called.

Raph was already in the dojo, leaning against the wall. “Yeah, I noticed it too.”

Donnie rolled out of the lab, goggles pushed up on his head. “Michelangelo has been suspiciously quiet for approximately—”

A loud crunch echoed from the living room.

All three turtles froze.

“…Ten seconds,” Donnie finished.

Another crunch.

Leo slowly reached for his swords. “Did Mikey bring something home again?”

Raph groaned. “If it’s another mutant pigeon I swear—”

They stepped into the living room.

And stopped.

You were sitting on the couch like you belonged there.

Curled up comfortably in the cushions, fluffy tail draped over the armrest, happily chewing on a bag of cheese puffs you’d apparently found somewhere.

You looked… mostly harmless.

Small. Furry. Big curious eyes. Soft ears flicking as you noticed them.

Then your mouth opened in what might’ve been a friendly smile—

And your jaw unhinged way farther than it should’ve.

Raph recoiled immediately. “WHAT THE SHELL IS THAT.”

You froze mid-crunch.

There was a long, awkward pause.

Then you slowly closed your jaw again.

“…Uh,” Leo said carefully.

You waved.

Donnie blinked several times. “That creature is sitting on our couch.”

You nodded politely.

“Eating our snacks,” Raph added.

You held up the bag of cheese puffs apologetically.

Before anyone could react further—

“Mikey!” Leo shouted. “Why is there a creature in our living room?!”

From down the hallway came the sound of running footsteps.

Michelangelo burst in, eyes wide.

“Oh!” he said brightly. “You guys found them already!”

Raph stared at him. “FOUND THEM?!”

Mikey walked over like nothing was wrong, plopping down beside you on the couch.

“Guys, this is my new friend!”

You wiggled a little, clearly pleased.

Leo pinched the bridge of his nose. “Mikey… what did you bring home.”

“They were wandering around near that old warehouse by the docks,” Mikey explained. “And they looked cold! And also kinda lost. And also adorable.”

You nodded in agreement.

“So you just… brought them here?” Donnie asked.

“Well yeah,” Mikey said. “Obviously.”

You leaned against Mikey’s shoulder, tail flicking.

Raph gestured wildly. “IT HAS A DEMON JAW.”

You opened your mouth again instinctively.

Your jaw extended with several unsettling clicks.

Raph shrieked. “STOP DOING THAT.”

You immediately closed it again and looked embarrassed.

Mikey patted your head. “Aww don’t listen to him. Your mouth thing is awesome.”

You brightened.

Donnie cautiously stepped closer, studying you.

“Fascinating,” he murmured. “Semi-mammalian features… possible mutagen exposure… unusually flexible mandibular structure…”

You blinked at him.

Then gently handed him a cheese puff.

Donnie accepted it without thinking.

“…Thank you.”

Leo sighed heavily. “Mikey, we can’t just keep every strange thing you find.”

You slowly lowered your ears.

Mikey immediately gasped. “LEO LOOK WHAT YOU DID.”

Leo froze.

Your fluffy tail drooped sadly.

“They’re sensitive,” Mikey said, offended.

Raph crossed his arms. “We are not adopting a sewer monster.”

You sniffed.

Then curled up smaller on the couch.

Raph’s expression faltered slightly.

“…Don’t do that.”

Mikey pointed dramatically. “Too late. Now they’re sad.”

Leo groaned. “Mikey.”

“They literally haven’t done anything wrong!” Mikey argued. “They’ve just been chilling here all afternoon. Donnie didn’t even notice!”

Donnie frowned thoughtfully. “…That’s actually true.”

Everyone turned to him.

“I assumed they were supposed to be here,” Donnie admitted.

You raised a paw awkwardly.

Raph stared. “You’ve been in the lair all day?!”

You nodded.

Leo slowly sat down in a chair.

“…Of course.”

Mikey grinned and wrapped an arm around you proudly.

“See? They fit right in.”

You happily grabbed another cheese puff.

Then the lair communicator crackled.

Donnie checked the screen.

“…Uh. Guys?”

On the monitor, security footage from the surface showed something strange.

Several Krang androids marching down the street.

And walking calmly among them—

A completely normal looking person.

No armor. No mutation. Just walking beside the floating aliens like it was the most natural thing in the world.

The Krang moved around them respectfully.

Almost… carefully.

Raph squinted. “Why are the Krang taking orders from a random human?”

Donnie leaned closer to the screen.

“They aren’t commanding them… they’re asking them.”

On the footage, one Krang floated beside the person.

The human nodded slightly.

The entire group changed direction.

Leo frowned.

“…That’s unsettling.”

You tilted your head at the screen.

Then slowly pointed.

“Wait,” Mikey said. “You know that person?”

You made a vague maybe gesture.

Everyone stared at you.

Raph groaned loudly. “Fantastic. The sewer gremlin knows the Krang.”

Mikey beamed.

“See? My friend is important!”

You happily unhinged your jaw again and swallowed the last handful of cheese puffs in one go.

Donnie watched in fascination.

Leo sighed into his hands.

And Raph stared at Mikey.

“…Next time you bring home a creature,” Raph said, “you’re telling us first.”

Mikey nodded.

“Totally.”

A beat passed.

Leo narrowed his eyes.

“Mikey.”

“Yeah?”

“…Did you bring home anything else today?”

Mikey paused.

You both slowly looked toward the hallway.

Something knocked over a trash can in the kitchen.

The neon buzz of the city blurred around you as you stumbled out of the convention center, your arms weighed down by an absurd amount of prosthetics and glittery cosplay gear. Your wig was askew, your fake claws clacking against the sidewalk, and your face… well, let’s just say the combination of metallic makeup, fake scars, and smudged lipstick gave you an otherworldly glow under the streetlights.

“Why… why are humans so small?!” you mumbled to no one in particular, waving your oversized gauntlets around. Your steps were uneven, heels clicking, one prosthetic foot catching the edge of the curb.

A shadow loomed near the alley across the street. Two guys, hunched and sneaky, clearly up to no good. “Hey—hey, little lady,” one hissed, “hand over your—”

Before they could finish, you froze mid-step, eyes widening. “MUTANTS!” you slurred happily, pointing at them like they were long-lost friends. “Ohmygod! I knew you’d find me!”

The thugs blinked. And then ran.

“…Wait, what?” you muttered, spinning in place. “No, no, no, don’t leave! Friends!”

Somewhere above, a shadow swooped down with practiced ease. A blur of blue. “Whoa, what is going on down here?” came a calm voice.

You blinked and grinned, wobbling forward, and flung yourself into the nearest figure, arms wrapping around them in a sloppy, affectionate hug.

“Finally! You found me!”

“Uh… hi?” The voice sounded… muffled. You buried your face in the shoulder, hiccuping, clearly oblivious to the fact that the “friend” was now trying not to scream.

“Hey, careful,” another voice came from the shadows, laced with alarm. “She’s—she’s huge!”

You squinted up at the group of four, your vision swimming. “Yeah! You guys… the ones who do the ninja things, right? You promised you’d stick together!”

“Uh… I think she’s drunk,” said one, voice tight with panic.

The “huggee” gently pried your arms off, and you staggered back a step. That’s when you noticed it: blue mask, katana strapped across the back, calm, measured gaze…

“Leonardo?” you slurred, trying to curtsy and almost falling over. “Leo! You… you came out!”

“Uh… yeah, we—” he began, glancing at the others. Michelangelo was snickering behind a dumpster, Raphael looked ready to punch a wall, and Donatello was already inspecting your prosthetics like a curious scientist.

You giggled, hiccupping. “I knew it! All the mutants! Everywhere! I can fight like you guys, too! Watch—”

You swung your prosthetic claws with all the precision of a toddler on roller skates. Leonardo ducked just in time, but you stumbled forward, crashing into a fire hydrant and sending a spray of water across the street.

“Whoa. Okay. Definitely drunk,” Leo muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“I—uh—yeah… hydrate! Water good!” you announced, pointing to the fountain. “And pizza! Can we get pizza?”

Michelangelo bounded forward like a hyperactive puppy. “Did someone say pizza? She’s one of us!”

Raphael groaned. “She’s clearly not one of us, Mikey. She almost killed me with that claw thing.”

You blinked, looking at him. “KILL? Noooo… protect! Friends protect! Mutant friends protect!”

Leo sighed, switching into big-brother mode. “Okay, okay. Let’s get you home before you really hurt yourself. And… maybe leave the claws on the cosplay, yeah?”

You saluted, wobbling like a tipsy knight. “Yes, Captain! Lead the mutants to victory!”

Donatello quietly pocketed one of your prosthetic gadgets. “Honestly… this could be a really useful design…”

You didn’t hear him. You were already bouncing down the alley, half-dragged by Leonardo, waving at shadows and yelling about missing friends. Somewhere in the distance, Michelangelo was laughing so hard he nearly fell over.

Leonardo liked to think he was good at understanding people.

He had to be. Being the leader or at least trying to be one meant reading the room, knowing when to step in, when to back off, when to say something inspiring and when to just… not make it worse.

So it bothered him that he didn’t understand this.

He stood near the entrance of the sewer lair, pretending to clean his katanas while his attention kept drifting back to the couch. April was there, animated as always, talking with Donnie about some conspiracy she was convinced tied into Superfly’s leftovers. She was excited, confident, glowing in that way she always did.

A few months ago, Leo would’ve been right there leaning too close, laughing too hard, trying way too much.

Now?

Now his chest felt… normal.

Instead, his eyes slid without permission over to you.

You were on the floor with Mikey, helping him tape together something that looked vaguely explosive and definitely unsafe.

“No, no,” you said, laughing. “If you connect those two, Donnie’s gonna ground you for life.”

Mikey gasped. “You’d really betray me like that?”

“I’m saving your life,” you shot back.

Leo snorted quietly before he could stop himself.

Why am I watching them?

⸻

It wasn’t like you were new.

You’d been around long enough that the turtles had stopped tiptoeing around you, stopped worrying about hiding every weird detail of their lives. You knew their routines, their strengths, their messes. You treated them like people not experiments, not monsters, not headlines.

That mattered more than Leo wanted to admit.

Especially to him.

You never put him on a pedestal for being “the leader.” You didn’t expect him to have all the answers. Sometimes, when he started spiraling over a plan, you’d just say, “We’ll figure it out. We always do.”

And somehow… that helped.

⸻

“Yo, Blue Guy.”

Leo looked up. You were holding a controller out toward him. “You in or you gonna keep dramatically brooding in the corner?”

Raph smirked. “Classic Leo.”

Leo rolled his eyes, but a smile tugged at his mouth as he walked over. “I was not brooding.”

“Uh-huh,” you said, scooting over to make room. “Sit. Mikey says he’s unbeatable, and I need backup.”

Mikey puffed out his chest. “I am unbeatable.”

Leo dropped onto the couch beside you. “We’ll see about that.”

Your knee brushed his as the game started.

It was accidental. Probably meaningless.

But Leo’s brain short circuited anyway.

He focused very hard on the screen, ignoring the way you leaned closer when the match got intense, ignoring the fact that you kept nudging him every time Mikey lost a life.

When you finally won, you threw your arms up. “Yes! Suck it, Mikey!”

Mikey collapsed dramatically. “I have been betrayed by my own team.”

Leo laughed real laughter, the kind that shook his shoulders a little. He realized something strange then.

He hadn’t thought about April once the entire time.

⸻

That night, after everyone else had gone to sleep, Leo lay awake on his mattress, hands folded behind his head.

He replayed old moments with April in his head how badly he’d wanted her approval, how much pressure he’d put on himself to be impressive, cool, normal.

It dawned on him then that his crush hadn’t been about her exactly.

It had been about what she represented.

The surface world. Acceptance. Proof that he could be more than just a mutant ninja turtle hiding underground.

And now?

Now he already had that. Not just through April but through you.

“Oh,” he murmured softly.

The realization didn’t hurt.

It felt like growing up.

⸻

After that, things shifted quietly.

Leo started gravitating toward you without noticing. He walked beside you during patrols, subtly guiding you away from danger with a hand on your shoulder. When fights got chaotic, he checked on you first.

Not because he thought you were weak.

Because he cared.

During movie nights, you somehow always ended up next to each other. Sometimes your hands brushed. Sometimes they didn’t move away.

April noticed first.

She nudged Leo one day while you were helping Donnie. “You know you’re smiling, right?”

Leo blinked. “What? No I’m not.”

She raised an eyebrow. “You are. And it’s different.”

He hesitated. “…Is that bad?”

April smiled, soft and genuine. “No. It’s good. I think you finally stopped trying so hard.”

That sealed it.

There was no jealousy. No awkwardness.

Just closure.

⸻

The moment everything finally spilled out happened after a mission went sideways.

Nothing catastrophic but close enough that Leo’s heart was still racing when you got back. You’d taken a hit meant for Mikey, and Leo hadn’t stopped thinking about it since.

He followed you up to the abandoned rooftop exit, where you sat quietly, city lights flickering below.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” he blurted.

You glanced at him. “Saved Mikey. Worth it.”

Leo swallowed. “You could’ve gotten seriously hurt.”

“So could you,” you said gently.

That’s when he cracked.

“I don’t like the idea of losing you,” he admitted, voice low. “And that scares me, because I don’t freak out like this with everyone.”

You turned fully toward him. “Leo…”

He took a breath, hands shaking just a little. “I thought I liked April. And I did. But that was… different. This—” He gestured vaguely between you. “This feels real.”

Your expression softened.

“You don’t make me feel like I have to prove I’m a good leader,” he continued. “You just… trust me. And I think I like you. A lot.”

The silence stretched.

Then you smiled.

“I was kinda hoping you’d figure that out.”

His eyes widened. “Wait—really?”

You nodded. “Yeah. I like you too.”

Leo laughed breathlessly, rubbing his face. “Wow. Okay. Cool. Coolcoolcool—”

You bumped his shoulder. “You good?”

“Yeah,” he said, smiling in a way that felt brand new. “I really am.”

When your hand slipped into his, it wasn’t dramatic.

It was steady.

Like something that had been growing all along.

And for the first time, Leonardo wasn’t worried about the surface world, expectations, or who he was supposed to be.

He was just a teenager.

Falling for someone who saw him exactly as he was.

Slash had seen some weird mutants before, but you were something else entirely.

Ten feet tall, broad-shouldered, with thick reptilian plates across your back and soft, shaggy fur around your neck and arms. Your claws could probably tear a car in half, but your sleepy eyes and slow, gentle movements made you look more like an oversized puppy who just wanted a nap.

Which would’ve been fine great, even if the Kraang hadn’t started hunting “the unidentified mega-mutant spotted in Lower Manhattan.”

And if the NYPD scanners hadn’t picked up your heat signature and labeled you as “potential kaiju threat.”

And if Slash actually had somewhere big enough to hide you.

Which he didn’t.

At all.

At this point, he was half convinced that you gained a foot every time he blinked.

You sat curled in the corner of his abandoned warehouse hideout, knees tucked to chest, tail wrapped around your legs like a blanket. “Sorry…” you mumbled, voice low and rumbling like distant thunder. “Didn’t mean to cause trouble.”

Slash rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s not your fault. You just… don’t exactly blend in.”

Your ears drooped.

He felt his chest squeeze. Dang it.

There was only one person he could trust. Someone who wouldn’t ask too many questions, wouldn’t freak out at the sheer size of you, and definitely wouldn’t rat him out to his brothers.

Or… Slash hoped.

He flicked open his comm. “Raph. I need a favor.”

Raph’s voice crackled through. “If this is about that time I dented your favorite weight set—”

“No. This is bigger.”

A pause. “Bigger how?”

Slash glanced at you again. You were trying to sit smaller. It wasn’t working. “…Ten feet tall bigger.”

“WHAT?!”

“Just get over here.”

Raph Arrives

The second Raph stepped into the warehouse, he froze.

“Slash, that’s not a mutant that’s a whole building with fur.”

You gave a tiny wave. The ground trembled.

“Hi…”

Raph blinked. “Oh. He’s polite. Okay. This is less terrifying than I thought.”

Slash crossed his arms. “Raph. Focus.”

“Right, right. So lemme guess Kraang’s after him?”

“And the cops,” Slash admitted.

Raph groaned. “Fantastic. How’re we supposed to hide someone who can’t even fit through the lair door?”

You whimpered quietly. “I can try to squeeze—”

Both turtles shouted, “NO!”

The sewer system would not survive it.

Raph put his hands on his hips. “Alright. We need somewhere big, empty, and totally off the radar.”

Slash nodded. “Exactly.”

Raph hesitated… then slowly smirked. “…I might know a place.”

Slash squinted. “Raph.”

“No, no, hear me out. There’s an old storm drain holding chamber Leo’s terrified to go near ‘cause he thinks it’s haunted.”

“It is haunted,” Slash grumbled.

“Exactly. Haunted equals nobody else goes down there, which equals perfect hideout for big guy here.”

You perked up at that. “I don’t mind ghosts.”

Slash patted your arm which took effort, because your arm was like a tree trunk. “See? He’s fine.”

Raph nodded. “Alright then. We take you underground, keep you hidden for a couple days, wait for the search to calm down… and nobody tells Leo, Donnie, or Mikey. Deal?”

Slash let out a relieved sigh. “Deal.”

“Cool.” Raph cracked his knuckles. “Now… how the heck are we moving you?”

You lifted him effortlessly with one giant clawed hand.

The Park Incident

It was late.

Not “late” like 9 p.m.

More like “only weird people, sleep-deprived college students, and mutant turtles are awake right now.”

Which is probably why you were face-down in the grass next to a fountain, completely unconscious, limbs splayed out like a crime scene chalk outline.

You had overworked yourself again — too many shifts, too many responsibilities, too little sleep. Your body simply clocked out without asking you first.

That’s how the boys found you.

“Uh… guys?” Leonardo froze mid-jump from the trees, pointing down at your very still body. “Are they… dead?”

Raph crouched beside you, poking your arm with the end of his sai. “They’re breathing. Donnie?”

Donnie scanned you quickly with his T-Phone. “Vitals stable. This is… wow, they’re really out.” He flicked his gaze to the others. “They might just be exhausted.”

Mikey gasped dramatically.

“Wait. Are they napping? Like… in the wild?”

Leo: “Nobody naps in the wild, Mikey.”

Mikey: “CLEARLY THEY DO—LOOK.”

Raph pointed two fingers at your limp form. “Okay, but what do we do with ’em? Leave ’em here? They could get mugged. Or stepped on. Or set on fire.”

“Mikey,” Leo groaned.

“IT COULD HAPPEN.”

Donnie folded his arms, conflicted. “We really shouldn’t move strangers…”

“But we can’t just leave them out here!” Mikey protested. “Look at them! They’re like a floppy little human pancake!”

Leo sighed in the longest-suffering-Leo way possible.

“We can’t kidnap a person.”

“But we also can’t—” Donnie gestured at you, face-down in the grass. “—leave them like this.”

A pause.

Raph: “So… we’re kidnapping them.”

Leo: “NO—!”

Too late. Mikey was already bridal carrying you like you weighed nothing.

“TO THE LAIR, MY GRASS-COVERED FRIEND!”

⸻

The Blanket Pile Awakening

You woke up warm.

Really warm.

Also… squishy?

Blinking, you realized you were in some kind of massive blanket nest like a pillow fort had exploded and someone had lovingly arranged the fallout around you.

For a moment it was peaceful.

Then you heard…

“You take care of them!”

“Why me?! I found ’em first!”

“That’s why!”

“Guys,” Donnie hissed, “you cannot assign a HUMAN like a chore chart!”

Your eyes opened fully.

Four giant talking turtles were arguing across the room.

You stared.

They stared back.

Mikey gasped. “THEY’RE AWAKE!”

Leo stepped forward, hands raised peaceful-sensei style. “Okay, so—don’t freak out—”

You stared harder.

“—we didn’t kidnap you.”

Raph: “We KIND OF kidnapped them.”

Leo glared. “PLEASE stop saying it like that.”

Donnie rushed over, nervous hands flailing. “You were unconscious! In the park! Face-down! We checked your pulse and—well—Mikey got emotional, and—okay, there were a lot of feelings involved—”

Mikey knelt beside your blanket pile with big golden retriever eyes.

“Are you okay, sleepy grass pancake?”

You blinked.

“…Sleepy… what?”

Raph leaned on his sai. “He named you that.”

“We can change it!” Mikey added quickly. “Unless you LIKE pancake—”

“MIKEY,” the others groaned.

You sat up, the blanket nest shifting around you.

“I… um… I just… kinda pass out sometimes. I work too much. It’s not serious.”

Donnie’s face did something between horror and “I want to lecture you but also I feel bad.”

“That’s not good for your health,” he muttered.

Then louder: “You should take better care of yourself.”

Raph snorted. “Says the guy who passes out in his lab at least twice a week.”

Donnie: “THAT’S DIFFERENT—!”

Leo cut in smoothly. “The important thing is: you’re safe. You can rest here until you feel steady.”

“And we made you the BEST NEST!” Mikey said proudly. “It’s totally sanitized. Mostly.”

Donnie: “Mikey—”

Mikey: “MOSTLY.”

You laughed because this was insane, but also… weirdly kind?

You sank back into the blankets. “Thank you. Really. For… not leaving me.”

Raph looked away like caring physically pained him. “Yeah, whatever.”

Leo smiled gently. “You’re welcome.”

And Mikey grinned as wide as the moon.

The First Clue

You’d been planning this for weeks scribbling out riddles on sticky notes, checking rooftops, timing everything, making sure Mikey didn’t accidentally set something on fire. Again.

Donnie had been buried in his lab for hours, goggles on, sparks flying from some half-built battle shell upgrade. You stepped inside quietly, butterflies flapping their little wings in your stomach.

“Donnie?”

His head shot up. “Oh! (Y/N). I, uh— I didn’t hear you come in.” His smile did that soft, shy thing that still knocked the breath out of you.

You placed the first clue on the desk in front of him.

A small slip of paper. Your handwriting neat.

Clue #1:

Go to the place where you first found me —

high above the city, where danger made us meet.

Donnie blinked. Then looked at you, blushing.

“This is… a scavenger hunt?”

You gave him a playful wink. “Only if you want to play.”

He was already out of his chair.

⸻

Clue 2 — TCRI Rooftop

The memory hit him immediately when he climbed onto that rooftop that night you’d been cornered by Kraang droids, terrified, clutching a piece of busted tech that didn’t belong in any human’s hands. Donnie had swooped in like the world’s most awkward knight in purple armor.

On the ledge, taped beneath a bent antenna, was the second clue:

Clue #2:

Go below, where brothers spar and argue

but always come back together.

He snorted. “The lair. Obviously.”

He pocketed the note, jumping off the roof with an excited, adrenaline-fueled thrill he hadn’t felt since his first successful mutation serum.

⸻

Clue 3 — The Lair

Raph raised a brow when Donnie landed in the dojo.

“Why’re you running around like Mikey after a sugar binge?”

“(Y/N) left me a scavenger hunt.”

Mikey popped up behind him with hearts practically in his eyes. “BRO, YOU’RE IN A ROM-COM!”

“Focus, please,” Donnie groaned, scanning the room.

Pinned to the dojo wall was the next clue:

Clue #3:

Go to the place where genius meets chaos —

where circuits shocked someone who definitely deserved it.

Donnie smirked.

The junkyard.

Casey Jones still hadn’t forgiven him for that incident.

⸻

Clue 4 — The Junkyard

The air smelled like rust and oil, but the memories were warm tinkering with old tech, you bringing him snacks while he tore apart broken machinery like it was Christmas morning.

The clue dangled from a smashed refrigerator door.

Clue #4:

Follow the path home —

through tunnels, twists, and the dark you once guided me through.

Donnie’s heart squeezed.

The sewers.

Where you’d once held his hand because you “definitely weren’t scared of rats, nope, not at all.”

He didn’t run to the next clue he flew.

⸻

Clue 5 — The Final Tunnel

As Donnie followed your clues deeper into the quieter parts of the sewer, he tugged absently at the strap of his bo, realizing something.

You’d led him from your first meeting… to memories… places tied to your relationship… places that mattered to him.

To you.

The last clue sat on a crate at a familiar ladder — leading up to your tiny downtown apartment.

Clue #5:

You’ve followed my trail, brilliant as always.

Come find me above the candlelight.

His cheeks burned.

Candles?

He climbed.

⸻

The Apartment - Candlelight

When he pushed open the rooftop access door into your apartment, Donnie froze.

It was… beautiful.

Flowers everywhere not store-bought bouquets, but wild little arrangements in mismatched jars (because you knew he loved botany). Soft fairy lights strung across the ceiling. Candles flickering warmly around a small dinner table set for two.

You stood at the center, smiling, dressed just a little nicer than usual but still you.

Donnie’s breath stuttered. “You… you did all this?”

“Of course.” You stepped closer, brushing your fingers over his. “I wanted to do something special. For you.”

His voice went soft, earnest in that way only Donnie could be.

“I—I usually feel like I’m pulling you into my world of mutant chaos. But this… you brought me into yours.”

You tugged him toward the table.

“Well… you’re worth the wild goose chase.”

His laugh was quiet, golden, and he leaned down to kiss your cheek hesitating a second before whispering:

“(Y/N)… this is the best scavenger hunt I’ve ever been on.”

“Only one?” you teased.

He nudged you playfully with his forehead. “The only one that ends with you.”

Dinner was warm, simple, perfect. Donnie kept looking at the lights, the candles, the setup… and then at you.

As if he couldn’t believe someone would do all this for him.

And as the night settled around you, the city buzzing distantly outside the window, Donnie threaded his fingers through yours under the table the scavenger hunt ending exactly where it was meant to.

New York was always strange on Halloween night. The city was louder, more alive costumes on every corner, laughter echoing through the alleys, and orange light spilling from jack-o’-lanterns lining fire escapes. To most people, it was a night of candy and mischief. To you and Leo, it was patrol night.

“Everyone’s distracted,” Leo said quietly, crouched beside you on the rooftop. His breath came out faintly white in the chill. “Perfect cover for the wrong kind of people.”

You adjusted your flashlight and smirked. “Perfect cover for a certain turtle and his partner, too.”

He turned to you, that tiny smile tugging at the corner of his mouth the one he tried to hide but never could. “You know, most people spend Halloween at parties. You spend it watching rooftops.”

You shrugged. “What can I say? The view’s better up here.”

Leo’s gaze lingered on you for a second too long before he looked away. You didn’t need the mask to see the soft flush that crossed his cheeks.

A sharp clang from a nearby alley snapped you both back to focus. Instantly, Leo was on his feet, twin katanas drawn, his voice low and calm. “Stay close.”

You followed, heart thudding as you slipped down the fire escape after him. The city below was cloaked in fog, Halloween lights flickering like faint stars. At first, you thought it was just a cat—until the shadows moved differently. Bigger. Faster.

“Foot Clan,” Leo muttered.

Of course. Even on Halloween.

The next few minutes were a blur of motion Leo darting through the fog, blades flashing silver, you covering his flank with your makeshift baton. You’d done this before, but something about tonight felt heavier. The air electric.

When the last Foot ninja vanished into the night, Leo sheathed his swords and turned to you. “You okay?”

You nodded, trying to steady your breathing. “You’re getting faster.”

He gave a soft chuckle. “Or maybe you’re getting better.”

The sirens in the distance faded, leaving just the hum of the city. You noticed how the orange glow from a streetlamp cast across Leo’s face half shadow, half warm light.

“Kind of a waste, huh?” you murmured. “Spending Halloween fighting ninjas instead of, I don’t know, pumpkin carving?”

Leo tilted his head, that teasing calm in his tone. “We can carve pumpkins… after patrol.”

You laughed softly. “You serious?”

He stepped closer, close enough that you could see your reflection in his blue eyes. “Completely.”

Your pulse stuttered. “And what, you’ll use your swords?”

“Only if you trust me.” His voice dropped lower, quieter, but his gaze never left yours.

“I do,” you said, and meant it.

For a moment, the city fell away no Foot, no noise, just the two of you under the Halloween lights. Leo’s hand brushed yours, hesitant but sure, the warmth of his palm cutting through the night chill.

“Happy Halloween,” he murmured.

You smiled, leaning in just enough for your forehead to rest against his. “Happy Halloween, Leo.”

Somewhere below, the city cheered as fireworks bloomed over the skyline orange and blue, scattering across the rooftops. And for once, Leonardo let the world wait.

The dojo was dead silent.

Every Foot recruit was standing in perfect formation, lined up before the raised platform where Shredder himself observed with narrowed eyes.

Every footstep echoed. Every breath was measured.

Every student trembled in quiet fear.

Except for you.

You were humming.

“…If I pass this, do I get a snack or, like, a cool patch or something?” you asked the silent air, breaking the tension like a rock through glass.

The instructor in front of you tensed visibly. So did half the room.

Shredder’s mask tilted ever so slightly. “Do you find this trial amusing, Y/N?”

You grinned beneath your mask. “A little, yeah. The mood lighting’s great, though.”

There was an audible gulp from one of the other recruits.

Karai standing at her father’s side, arms crossed pinched the bridge of her nose. “Father, permission to knock him out myself?”

Shredder ignored her, watching as you effortlessly dodged a flurry of attacks from three armed Foot soldiers, flipping over them and disarming one in a single, smooth motion.

Your moves were sharp, precise, and fast the kind of skill that couldn’t be taught. When you landed, crouched and smiling, the silence hung even heavier.

You stood, brushed imaginary dust off your uniform, and looked up at Shredder. “So… how’d I do?”

Shredder stared for a long moment. Then, slowly, he said, “You pass.”

Karai’s head snapped toward him. “What?”

“Y/N will train under my command and yours, Karai.”

You shot her a two-finger salute. “Looking forward to working with you, boss.”

She glared at you like she was already planning your funeral.

⸻

A week later…

Karai regretted everything.

You were infuriating.

You were also somehow her best operative.

“Y/N,” she hissed from behind a rooftop vent, “this is stealth. You’re supposed to be quiet.”

You gave her a thumbs-up. “Got it. I’ll whisper my jokes.”

“Don’t whisper anything—”

“Hey, wanna hear a Foot pun?”

“NO.”

“Too late. I’m a shoe-in for best ninja this year.”

She turned and stared at you with all the concentrated fury of a thousand throwing stars.

You just grinned, eyes crinkling. “C’mon, that was a good one.”

“Keep talking and I’ll shoe you off this roof.”

“…I’ll allow it. That one was pretty good.”

She groaned. “You’re insufferable.”

⸻

But it wasn’t all bad.

You were funny, yes but also quick, smart, and surprisingly protective. During one mission when a botched ambush nearly cost her a limb, you’d thrown yourself between her and a collapsing support beam without hesitation.

When she demanded to know why, you just shrugged.

“Can’t let my partner get squished. Then who’d I annoy all day?”

She didn’t have an answer for that.

⸻

A few nights later, she found you alone in the dojo after training hours, sitting cross legged on the floor with your mask off. The usual glint of mischief was gone, replaced by something quieter.

“You don’t usually stop moving,” she said, stepping into the light.

You looked up, smiling faintly. “Even jokers need a breather sometimes.”

She folded her arms. “You take nothing seriously.”

You tilted your head. “Sure I do. I just don’t show it. Makes people underestimate me.”

Her eyes softened just a little. “And me?”

You stood, walking past her with a playful smirk. “You? I’d never underestimate you, Karai.”

She felt heat rise to her cheeks. “Flattery doesn’t work on me.”

“Good,” you said, leaning close enough for her to catch the teasing glint in your eye. “Because it wasn’t flattery.”

She blinked then shoved you lightly on the shoulder. “You’re impossible.”

You laughed. “You love it.”

Karai turned away, trying to hide her smile. “Keep talking, clown, and I’ll prove otherwise.”

But the smile lingered long after you’d left the room.

⸻

Later…

Shredder: “Karai, have you and Y/N completed your mission?”

Karai: deadpan “Yes, Father. Somehow.”

Y/N, from behind her: “We kicked butt and took toes!”

Karai: “Ignore him.”

Shredder: “…Why are you like this?”

The last thing you expected to be doing on your week off from the veterinary conference was making a house call to the New York City sewers.

But here you were.

April had been vague over the phone something about her friends being “really, really sick” and “needing someone who can handle non-human patients.” You’d treated everything from parrots to pythons, so you figured, why not?

Then she’d led you through a manhole.

You weren’t sure what you’d expected definitely not a cozy underground lair filled with discarded furniture, glowing tech, and the faint sound of someone retching in the distance.

“…This is new,” you muttered, trying to keep your balance on the damp concrete.

April wrung her hands nervously. “Okay, so, before you freak out—”

A weak groan interrupted her.

You turned and froze.

Lying face-down on the floor was a giant mutant turtle.

Actually, four of them.

One on the couch, one curled up under a blanket on the floor, another slumped near a desk surrounded by crumpled tissue, and the last oh, he’d apparently claimed the bathroom as his home now, judging by the open door and a groggy, muffled voice from inside.

“…April,” you said flatly. “You brought me to a turtle sanctuary.”

“Kind of?”

You blinked. “They’re huge.”

“And ninjas,” she added helpfully. “Also mutants.”

You just stared.

Then another groan came from the couch. “April, make the world stop spinning…”

“That one’s Michelangelo,” she said quickly. “He’s been… dramatic.”

“Am not!” Mikey whined weakly, then sniffled. “I just need soup. And cuddles. And maybe my soul cleansed.”

You set your bag down with a sigh. “Alright, Michelangelo. Let’s take a look at you first.”

When you pulled out your stethoscope, he eyed it like it was a weapon.

“…That’s not for shots, right?”

“No.”

“You promise?”

“Unless you scream again, then I might consider it.”

He shut up instantly.

You smiled faintly. “Good boy.”

⸻

Raph was next which, according to April, was an event in itself because “Raph never gets sick.”

You found him curled up with his blanket pulled up to his chin, eyes half-lidded. The usual edge in his voice was gone when he mumbled, “You’re real gentle for a doc…”

You blinked in surprise. “That’s… sweet of you to say.”

“Don’t tell my brothers,” he murmured before dozing off again.

You grinned. “Your secret’s safe.”

⸻

Then there was Donnie.

The poor guy was a wreck.

“Dr. Y/N,” April introduced softly.

He looked up at you with wide, feverish eyes. “Doctor? Thank goodness. I’ve been running the calculations — I think I’ve contracted a rare hybridized strain of sewerborne plague!”

“Plague,” you repeated.

“Yes! I’ve been documenting symptoms: fever, nausea, visual distortion, mild paranoia—”

“Mild?” Mikey called hoarsely from the couch.

“—and an overwhelming sense of impending doom!”

You gently placed a thermometer under his tongue. “Or, hear me out… a bad stomach flu.”

He blinked, momentarily stunned into silence.

You jotted a few notes. “I’ll mix you up something for hydration. Electrolytes, ginger, maybe some probiotics—”

“Probiotics?”

“Friendly bacteria.”

He paused, visibly conflicted. “You… can befriend bacteria?”

April sighed. “He’s delirious.”

⸻

That left the bathroom.

You hesitated at the door, knocking softly. “Hello? I’m Dr. Y/N. April said you’ve been feeling sick?”

There was a pause. Then, a very tired, very familiar-sounding voice:

“Tell her I’m not moving.”

You frowned. “Leonardo, right?”

A groan. “Yeah. The fearless leader reduced to a bathroom hermit.”

“Mind if I come in?”

A long sigh. “You can try. Just… don’t step on the bucket.”

You carefully eased the door open.

Leo sat on the tile floor, leaning against the wall with a pillow behind his head, damp towel across his forehead, and one hand clutching a water bottle like it was a weapon.

He looked awful flushed, bleary-eyed, dark circles under his eyes. But somehow, even like this, there was a quiet dignity about him.

You knelt down beside him. “How long have you been camped out here?”

“Two days. Maybe three. Time’s meaningless now.”

You smiled softly. “You’re dedicated. I’ll give you that.”

He cracked one eye open. “You’re not freaking out.”

“About the giant talking turtle thing? I’ve seen worse in vet school.”

That earned a weak chuckle. “Remind me to never ask what ‘worse’ means.”

You took his wrist gently to check his pulse. His skin was warm too warm.

“Your fever’s still high,” you said quietly. “You’ve got to keep drinking, alright? And when you can, some light food. I’ll mix up something to help.”

He nodded, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “You’re… surprisingly kind, Doc.”

You smiled back. “And you’re surprisingly polite for someone who’s made the bathroom his kingdom.”

He laughed weakly and then immediately groaned. “Ow. Don’t make me laugh. It hurts.”

“Sorry,” you whispered, though you didn’t stop smiling.

You reached up, wringing out the towel in fresh cool water and placing it gently back on his head.

Leo blinked up at you, too exhausted to hide the warmth in his gaze. “If I live through this, I’m buying you dinner.”

You raised an eyebrow. “You can’t even stand up.”

“Then I’ll send Mikey.”

“Ha! You’re on.”

⸻

A few days later, the lair was back to life mostly. Splinter had emerged from quarantine with a vengeance (and hand sanitizer), Donnie was convinced you’d “saved mutant-kind,” and Mikey still whimpered whenever you reached for your medical bag.

Leo, now healthy and back on his feet, found you as you were packing up to leave.

“Heading out?” he asked softly.

“Back to the conference,” you said. “But you boys better rest and hydrate. No rooftop patrols for at least another day.”

He smiled faintly. “Doctor’s orders.”

You nodded. “Exactly.”

He hesitated then held out a small folded paper. “When we’re both free… maybe that dinner?”

You took it, grinning. “As long as it’s somewhere above ground.”

“Deal.”

⸻

Epilogue:

Mikey: “So, Doc, about those shots—”

You: grabs syringe

You always figured you and Casey were like fire and ice literally. He was all hockey sticks, busted lips, and bad decisions. You were figure skates, medals, and frozen elegance. The jock and the ice princess.

If it weren’t for the matching dark hair and the occasional shared glare, people would never guess you were siblings half-siblings, technically. His mom’s remarried, your dad’s remarried, the usual story. But when your mom moved closer to New York, you started seeing him more. And while you’d never admit it out loud, it was… nice.

Until tonight.

Because apparently, the city’s full of freaks in purple jackets who think a girl walking home from practice is an easy target.

“Hey, sweetheart, what’s in the bag?” one of them sneers.

You sigh, setting your skate bag down beside you. “Gloves.”

“What?”

You smirk. “So I don’t hurt my knuckles when I do this.”

Two minutes later, you’ve got three Purple Dragons groaning in the alley, one clinging to a dented trash can lid. You’re breathing heavy, adrenaline humming under your skin.

That’s when you hear a voice low, whispering from above.

“Bro, she just wiped out a whole gang!”

You freeze, eyes flicking upward. On the roofline above, four shadows crouch against the moonlight. They’re… not normal silhouettes. Too big. Too wide. And was that shells?

“Do you think Casey knows her?” another whispers.

“Maybe,” comes another voice, more serious and definitely in charge. “Let’s not jump to—”

Crunch.

Someone loses their footing.

“Whoa—!”

The voice drops, a blur of green landing right in front of you. The guy if you can call him that straightens up, blue mask and twin swords glinting faintly.

You blink once. “What. The. Hell.”

He holds up his hands quickly. “Wait! I can expl—”

You punch him square in the face.

He hits the pavement hard, groaning.

From the roof, you hear another voice higher-pitched, panicked. “DUDE! Leo’s down! She just KO’d our leader!”

“Holy shell, she’s worse than Casey!”

You step back, fists still up. “What are you people? Some kind of mutant LARP group?”

A blur of orange drops next hands raised in mock surrender, grinning. “We come in peace, Ice Queen! Please don’t smite us with your scary fists!”

You narrow your eyes. “…Ice Queen?”

“That’s Mikey,” groans the blue one, sitting up and rubbing his jaw. “Ignore him.”

“Impossible!” Mikey chirps.

Before you can decide whether to laugh or swing again, the sound of sirens cuts through the night. The green weirdos scatter like shadows, disappearing up the fire escape faster than your brain can process.

You’re left standing in the alley, heart hammering.

“…Okay. I’m officially done for the night.”

⸻

Later…

You flop onto your bed, still in your hoodie and skating tights, thumbs flying over your phone.

You: you will NOT believe the night I had

You: got jumped by purple dragons again

You: also got saved by green weirdos in costumes

You: one of them had swords and i decked him

You: think they hang out near the East Side rooftops. check it out?

Across the city, Casey Jones stares at his phone, blinking.

Then another message buzzes in this one from Raph.

Raph: bro u got a half-sis right??

Raph: she’s psycho. she one-punched Leo.

Casey stares between the two messages.