Home

It's cold, although it is always cold these days. We can't seem to escape it. It's damp and biting and claws past your skin to settle in your bones, making joints ache and teeth chatter. Winter has always been a struggle. Master Splinter does his best to see us through it, but this year the snow keeps coming and the temperature rarely climbs above freezing. I try to stay positive. Spring always follows eventually. Winter can't last forever. When the pipes glaze over with frost once more and even huddling together doesn't keep the night-time cold at bay I start to worry that I might never feel warm again.

I thought our new home would offer some relief. The abandoned station is at the very least dry and we're hidden away from the bitter wind. It doesn't seem to make much difference. The cold gets in as it always does and we end up shivering. Master Splinter scavenges what winter clothing he can to fit us. It takes some adjusting, as it always does, to pull over-sized sweatshirts atop shells and mittens made for five fingers over three. We look ridiculous. I look ridiculous, but I don't complain, no matter how much I resent the grinning purple dinosaur affixed to my wool hat.

Mikey isn't bothered by the clothes. He's still a good deal shorter than the rest of us, despite a recent growth spirt and the hem of his sweatshirt hangs down to his knees. He wipes his hands over the cartoon monster on his chest, leaving dirty smudges in his wake. He's shivering and his teeth chatter so loudly I'm surprised he hasn't cracked one. Yet despite the cold he still insists on jumping in every puddle we come across. The blue sweatpants covering his legs are now soaked an unappealing brown and soon I know we'll have to turn back before he gets frost bite.

"If you splash me one more time…" Raph growls.

He raises one mitten-covered fist in place of actually completing the threat with words. It's enough to stop Mikey mid-puddle stomp and he settles into a pout instead.

"You guys are no fun," he grumbles.

I see his eyes flicker to a pile of slush and that gleam is there and I know he's plotting.

"Don't," I say with a sharp shake of my head.

He tries to act innocent. "What?" he asks. He almost sings the word and bats his eyes.

"You know what," I reply.

I try my best to sound like Sensei. He always knows just the right tone to reel Mikey in and I have yet to master it. Luckily, my little brother gives me plenty of opportunities to practice. I'll get it eventually if I work hard enough.

"This way guys!" Donnie calls out.

I feel a slight twinge of panic when I realize how far ahead of us he is. We need to stick together. It isn't safe to go off alone. I hurry to catch up. I follow the loud, hacking sound of the cough that clings to the end of his shout. He's sick again, or still sick, really. It seems to happen every winter and this year is no different. If anything this year is worse. It started innocently enough with a slight rattle in his chest and the occasional sniffle, but the cough only worsened and the sniffles became more frequent as the cold dragged on. He shouldn't be out here in the tunnels. He should be back at the station under a pile of blankets with a cup of tea.

"Don't go ahead of us," I chastise him once I catch up.

He's still struggling to get the cough under control and I grimace at the way his eyes water and his shoulders curl inwards with each assault to his lungs and throat. This was a bad idea. I should have put my foot down. I should have run and told Sensei. He's going to be mad. His nose is going to twitch and he'll make that disappointed noise deep in his throat he saves for occasions of spectacular failure on our parts. I cringe at the mere thought of it. Maybe we can get back before he realizes we're gone.

"S-sorry," Donnie pants with a few more coughs. "Thought you guys were right behind me."

He straightens up to his full height and not for the first time recently I notice how much taller he's gotten. His weight hasn't caught up with his new height and even under the layers and bulky sweater his boney elbows and knobby knees stick out. He sniffles and runs his sleeve under his nose, hefting his toolbox onto his hip. He sways slightly under the weight of it and I stop short of offering to carry it when Mikey plows into us with a squeal. He ducks behind me and his wet mittens grip the back of my sweatshirt.

"I'm gonna kill ya!" Raphael bellows, the slushy remains of a snowball dripping down his face.

"Calm down, Raph," I say, standing firm between him and Mikey.

The smaller turtle lets out another squeal when Raph tries to get past me to hit him. I stay put and deflect the punch, which sets Mikey off into a fit of laughter. He blows a taunting raspberry and I almost consider letting Raphael have him. Movement off in the shadows catches my eye and I realize with a lurch in my stomach that Donnie has wandered off again. How could I so easily lose track of someone I can hear breathing a mile away?!

"Donnie!" I call out, pushing Raph aside as he lunges for Mikey. "Donnie!"

I must sound worried because my other two brothers stop their fighting to see what is happening. Donnie sticks his head out into the tunnel a few yards down and my relief only last for a few seconds, quickly squashed by my growing anger. I told him not run off on his own. I asked him to do one thing. Stay together and he couldn't listen. It isn't safe. He waves us towards him with a muffled cough.

"Over here, come on guys! I think I found it!" He calls out excitedly before ducking back into the alcove.

Mikey clamors past Raphael, splashing down the center of the tunnel before ducking into the alcove. Raph growls deep in his chest, but follows without his customary complaining. The room is bigger than I expect and unpleasantly damp. The ceiling and walls are crisscrossed with pipes and heavy black cables that hiss and shudder with steam. My brothers stand in the center of the cavernous room, their heads tilted back with matching looks of concern on their faces.

"I can get the rope around that one," Mikey says, pointing up at the ceiling. "Think that'll hold?"

Donatello taps his finger on his chin in thought and shines the flashlight up at the pipe in question. "It should," he says with a nod before turning to Raph. "Can you hoist me up there?"

Raph snorts and rolls his shoulders, insulted by the question. "Of course I can," he grumbles, taking hold of Donnie's wrist to wiggle his arm. "You're skin and bones. It'll be like holding up a feather."

Donnie pulls his arm away with a scowl, his attempt at a retort cut off by a cough. Mikey takes a step back and holds the coil of rope at his side. He has a piece of metal tied to one end for weight and swings it, gaining speed before he lets it fly into the darkness. There's a loud clunk as it hits metal and I think he's missed his mark before the rope slides back down to the ground. A cry of triumph explodes from his mouth, the sound echoing throughout the room. He does a victory dance, only stopping when Raph slaps him upside the back of his head.

"Nice job, Mikey," Donnie says with a smile.

He's already tying one end of the rope around his waist, tugging on the knot to test its strength. "All right," he says, tucking his toolbox under his arm. "I need to get to the main valve. It should be right up there," he glances over at me. "Can you hold the flashlight, Leo?"

He is oblivious to my anger. He has a project in mind, an experiment in his sights and nothing else will hold his attention until he completes it. I sigh. It's easier not to fight him when he's like this. If we all work together we can finish this before Sensei realizes we're gone. If it works we'll have to explain how there is suddenly heat in the lair, but I'll cross that bridge when I come to it. I'm not entirely convinced this will work anyway. I click the flashlight to life and shine it up towards the ceiling.

"Make this quick," I say with a frown. "We've already been gone long enough."

"It'll only take a few minutes, promise," he insists, nodding to Raph.

The rope whines and groans when Raphael hoists Donnie into the air. He clings to the toolbox and tries to keep still as Raph pulls hand over hand to raise him towards the ceiling. I keep the light steady, but he's too far up and the beam barely reaches him. Mikey has already lost interest and he darts around the room, splashing in puddles and climbing on whatever he can reach from the ground. This is taking too long. Sensei is certainly done meditating by now. He'll notice that we're gone. We're going to be in so much trouble. I never should have let them talk me into this.

"I don't know about this Donnie," I admit ruefully.

I inch around a puddle's edge and try to avoid the unpleasant gray sludge that collects in every crack and crevice. I can't evade it forever, it's everywhere and my foot eventually slips in the freezing slush. "You know what Master Splinter said," I remind him as I try to shake off the disgusting substance from my foot.

"He said not to go up to the surface and we didn't," my brother replies, his voice muffled and echoing all at the same time. "Keep the light steady, I can't see."

I sigh and shine the flashlight up towards the mess of pipes and wires that almost hide Donatello's form from view. His feet dangle and sway overhead and when that deep, rattling cough sounds in his chest I'm certain he is going to fall to his doom. Raphael grunts, digging his heel into the ground as he adjusts his hands on the rope and I dart forward to help him. The flashlight clatters to the ground and I hear Donnie try to protest from above as he is plunged into darkness.

"Quit squirming!" Raph says, wrapping the end of the rope around his wrist to improve his grip.

"S-sorry, can't…can't h-help it," Donnie says between painful coughs and sputters.

"That's it. We're done here. Raph, help me get him down," I say with a nod towards my brother.

This isn't worth Donnie getting hurt. The winter can't last forever. We can handle the cold until spring. We always have before and this year will be no different. I try to move the rope to lower Donnie back to the ground. My eyes narrow when I realize he has wrapped himself around one of the larger pipes in protest.

"Let go, right now!" I insist, stamping my foot. "We're leaving."

"I'm almost done," he whines. "I just need five more minutes!"

"You said five minutes, ten minutes ago," I reply, tugging on the rope.

"I can do this Leo!"

"Uh, guys?" Mikey says and the way the words shake gives me pause.

He's standing by the door, his eyes wide and his mouth spread in a scared grimace. "I think someone is coming," he hisses, instantly looking around for a place to hide.

"Maybe it's Master Splinter," Raph says quickly.

I don't want to be found out by Master Splinter, but it is certainly better than the alternative. There are voices echoing down the tunnel outside. They're deep and gruff and most definitely do not belong to our father. Panic grips my thoughts and I look around frantically, trying to form a plan, any plan, of escape. I take the rope from Raph's hand and lean back on my heels from the added weight.

"Take Mikey and get out of here," I say. "Take the tunnel to the tracks. Stick to the shadows."

"But, what about…"

"We'll be right behind you," I insist. "Go!"

They stare at me with wide, terrified eyes before nodding in unison. They move silently as they slip out into the tunnel. For the first time that day Mikey avoids the puddles and the two of them refrain from arguing. If the voices in the tunnel are as far away as I think they are, they'll never spot my brothers. They'll be gone and halfway back to the station before they're even close. I stare up into the darkness and give a tug on the rope.

"Let go of the pipe," I hiss, cringing when he coughs in response. "Come on, I've got you. Let go."

The rope groans and I have to lean back to keep from dropping my brother. I lower the rope too quickly and it slips from my grip, burning against my hands and causing Donnie to drop the last few feet to the ground. If he's hurt he doesn't seem to pay attention to it, more concerned with gathering up the spilled contents of his toolbox. I try to pry loose the knotted rope at the back of his shell, but my hands are freezing and shaky and refuse to do what I tell them.

"Come on, leave it," I say, sawing frantically through the rope that still has him tethered to the pipe. "We have to go, now!"

The voices are right outside, loud and boisterous and using words Sensei has forbidden us from uttering. Donnie coughs and tries to scramble to his feet, his knees and hands scraped and bloody. I don't have time to feel guilty for the scrapes or for covering his mouth with my hand. He struggles and pulls at my hand, his chest heaving and legs kicking when I drag him back into the shadows. He's desperately trying to cough and I'm afraid he might bite me in his panic at not being able to breath. I hold firm, muffling his cries. I have to. Those men can't find us. They can't.

"Quiet," I whisper. "Breath through your nose, it's all right."

We can't run. They're too close and the door is the only way out. I hold my breath and feel my brother tense in my arms. A beam of light cuts through the darkness and we both push back instinctively to avoid it. They're right outside. They're going to catch us. I slowly take my hand away from Donnie's mouth and he takes in a gasp of air before desperately trying to muffle another cough. The lone flashlight is joined by others and the scrape and splash of heavy boots sloshing through dirt and puddles fills the air.

"What the…hey, Larry! Come check this out!"

The loud voice echoes up towards the ceiling as the first man shuffles into the room. He's big, much bigger than us and he isn't alone. He grabs hold of the frayed remains of the rope hanging from the pipe and shines his flashlight up towards the ceiling. He kicks at one of tools that clutter the floor and when he leans over to inspect Donnie's toolbox I have to take hold of my brother once more to keep him from charging forward.

"What are you yelling about?" another man asks, shining his flashlight into the face of the first.

"Looks like someone was in here," the first one replies, shielding his eyes from the light. "See, must have been climbing the pipes or something."

There are three of them now, all huddled around the rope loudly arguing about who could have left it there. They're distracted. If we're going to make a run for it now is the time. I slide the knife from my belt and motion with my head for Donnie to follow. He doesn't notice. He's too busy staring at the scattered toolbox with wide, frantic eyes. I wrap my hand around his arm tight enough to make him wince. He finally looks at me and I point towards the door.

We inch along the wall, careful to keep to the shadows. Only a few more feet and we'll be in the tunnels. They'll never be able to catch us if we can reach the tunnels. I duck around a pipe, dragging Donnie along behind me. We're almost there. We're almost safe. We never should have left the station. I never should have let them talk me into this.

"Joe, where did you…what the hell?"

We don't have time to hide. The man takes up most of the doorway, blocking our escape. Donnie's hand grips my arm and a tiny squeak moves past his lips. I move to stand in front of him and lower into a fighting stance with my knife at the ready. Donnie presses his shell against mine and mimics my stance as the others turn to see what the commotion is.

"What are you kids doing down here?" one of them demands.

The fear tightening my chest loosens slightly. It's dark and we're covered in these ratty clothes. They think we're human. That won't last. One shine of a flashlight and they'll see the truth. I reach back and pull on Donnie's wrist. We have to make a run for it. I lower my head and drop my shoulder. I yell as I rush forward, hoping the sudden noise will act as a distraction. Barreling into the man in the doorway I grunt as the impact threatens to knock the wind out of me. Donnie is close behind, hitting the man in the knees. The man goes down with a pained cry and we're running and scrambling over him as he tries to grab hold. I break free and bite back a triumphant shout when my feet hit the ground.

"Leo!"

I turn, my hand tightening on the handle of my knife. Donnie is on the ground, flat on his plastron. The man has him by the ankle and my brother is trying with little success to kick him with his other foot. The others are in the doorway now. It's four against two and they're bigger than us. Master Splinter warned us. He always warns us. Humans will hurt you. They'll take us away from each other. They're dangerous. We can't be seen. We can't be caught. If they catch us they'll hurt us. That's not going to happen. I won't let it.

I feel the growl start low in my chest, the sound ripping out of my throat without warning. Lunging forward I slash the man's hand with the knife until the blade pierces his skin and he lets go. His scream echoes painfully down the tunnel and I haul Donnie to his feet. We run. There isn't any time to discuss a plan or decide on a direction. It is one foot in front of the other. Keep going until you're sure they aren't following you. We turn left and then right and left yet again. The dank, slush-filled sewer lines start to widen and bow out at the sides. We're almost home. We're almost safe. We don't stop running until there are subway tracks beneath our feet and the platform to the station is in our sights.

"I…I told you this was a bad idea!" I say, turning on Donnie with every intention of scolding him further.

He's leaning over with his hands resting above his knees and the deep, hacking cough makes me stop mid-lecture. His shoulders rise and fall with rapid, gasping heaves and I'm afraid he's going to make himself sick. I rush over and rest my hand on his shell. It's the only small amount of comfort I can offer until the fit passes. He pinches his eyes shut and manages a few, sharp breathes before another round of coughing makes him roll forward.

"Leonardo!"

I cringe at the sound of my father's voice. He's angry, but more importantly, he's disappointed. It hurts to hear him say my name like that. My skin warms at the shame of it and words are now hard to come by. I should have known better. This is my fault. I should have stopped my brothers and told Master Splinter what they planned to do. This is my fault and he knows it.

"Sensei, he can't breathe," I reply, pushing aside my shame. There are more important things to worry about.

Master Splinter kneels and rests his hand on Donnie's shoulder. He's speaking too softly for me to overhear, but whatever he says seems to calm Donnie to the point where he can finally take a full breath. I stand to the side, my attention falling on the blade still gripped tightly in my right hand. It's sticky with blood and I consider throwing it aside in my panic. It's too late. I'm sure Master Splinter already saw it, or smelled the blood, or both. He'll have questions. Questions I don't want to answer. He is going to be so angry.

"S-Sensei…we…I have to go back," Donnie rasps, trying to turn towards the tunnels even as our father holds firm to his shoulders. "My tools…we left them."

"Your tools don't matter, Donnie," I snap and his eyes widen with nothing short of betrayal.

I don't care. We almost got caught. If he had just listened to me and left when I said none of this would have happened. I cross my arms over my chest and try to avoid the hurt look in his eyes. Sensei stands, keeping his grip on Donnie's shoulders.

"We will retrieve them later," he says quietly. "But first we must get you warm."

"Th-that's what I was trying to do," Donnie says through chattering teeth as Sensei helps him over to the platform.

Mikey and Raph are waiting for us there with wide eyes and worried expressions. Master Splinter lifts Donnie up onto the platform where the others instantly start fretting over him. I move to climb up after him, but a firm pressure on my shoulder stops me. It's Master Splinter's hand and the weight of it makes me slump and lower my head. My chest tightens and I'm afraid of what might happen if I try to speak so I remain silent.

"Change out of those wet clothes, all of you," he instructs. "There is hot water in the kettle. I will be in shortly."

They share a look between them. It is guilt and I'm sure I'm wearing a similar one. Raph seems like he might argue. Raph always argues, but Mikey gives a tug on his sleeve and they both lower their heads in defeat. Donnie coughs and shoots me a reproachful glance. He presses his lips together in a frown.

"You coming too, Leo?" he asks cautiously, maybe thinking he can save me from the scolding we both know is coming.

"We will be in shortly," Master Splinter says again, adding with a stern edge to his voice. "Go."

"Hai, Sensei," he says with a sigh and a nod.

I lower my head once more and stare down at my feet until my eyes blur. The threat of tears is very real and I close my eyes to keep them at bay. A ninja is supposed to have control over his body. What we did was wrong. I must face my punishment with strength and courage. Calm, I must remain calm. Master Splinter's hand tightens on my shoulder and I force myself to lift my head.

"Leonardo," he says quietly and I take in a deep breath. "What happened?"

My next breath wavers and I bow forward in subjugation. "I…I am sorry, Sensei. I know we shouldn't have left the station. I'm sorry."

I try not to flinch when his hand moves to rest atop my head. He moves his fingers under my chin and guides me to stand straight. I take in another shuddering breath and clench my jaw. I will not cry. I will remain in control. A ninja is always in control of his body. I have disappointed him enough already I will not add to it. His eyes flicker down and I follow his gaze to the blood-covered knife still clutched in my hand. I open my hand and the blade clatters to the loose stones beneath my feet; an unmistakable showing of my guilt.

"What happened?" he asks again.

I swallow and take in a slow breath. "I…we…Donnie found schematics in the utility closet. He thought he could turn the gas back on in the station so we could have heat," I reply, unable to raise my voice above a whisper. "He found the valve so we went to help him reroute it."

He doesn't say anything beyond the low rumble in his throat. I hate that noise. I take another breath and the sudden urge to defend myself burns so bright in my chest I can't ignore it.

"I know we shouldn't have left without telling you, Sensei and I'm sorry, I should have told you…it's just," I sigh and lose the small amount of bravado I mustered. "It's been so cold and…and Donnie has been sick all winter and if…if we got the heat to work I thought…I thought the station could finally be a place we can live in."

"And the knife?" he asks.

I flinch at the question. "There…there were men," I reply. "He had Donnie, Sensei. I had to."

"Did they follow you?"

I shake my head no and fight back another threat of tears. "No, no we lost them in the tunnels and it was dark. They didn't get a good look at us."

His shoulders rise and fall with a deep sigh. I stare forward and await my punishment. I'm not prepared when he wraps his arms around me and pulls me tight to his chest. He's warm and his arms keep me in place. I burry my head in his robes and move to return the embrace. The adrenaline from the fight and the run that followed crashes in that instant and I'm cold and trembling and clinging to my father like a child.

"I…I'm sorry, Sensei," I murmur. "I'm so sorry."

He pulls back, keeping his hands on my forearms. "You should not have left the station on your own. It was reckless, dangerous and impulsive," he says and the shame of it makes my shoulders roll forward and my head lower. "But you accomplished the most important task of any ninja's mission. You came home alive."

I sniffle and look up at him in confusion. His features have softened somewhat and I'm not entirely convinced this isn't some sort of test.

"You evaded capture, you kept your brothers safe and our home remains a secret. You did well, my son."

I sniffle again and feel my forehead crease. "Does…does that mean I'm not in trouble?"

There's a pull at the corner of his mouth and he clears his throat around something that might be a laugh. "You are all in trouble," he replies. "But a punishment will have to wait until later."

He stands to his full height and motions for me to follow. My brothers are gathered at the center of the main living space. Donnie is huddled under a ridiculous pile of blankets with Mikey threatening to add another to the heap. My youngest brother is now wearing what I'm certain is a nightgown and the flowery, blue print garment almost brushes the tops of his feet. Raphael is pacing in front of them, rolling his shoulders and cracking his neck while he mutters to himself. He looks up when Master Splinter and I enter the room. His hands instantly ball into fists and he catches my gaze with a wordless need to know if I'm all right.

"The four of you will never leave this station without my say so ever again. Am I clear?" Master Splinter asks and we all answer in unison with a muttered 'Hai Sensei.'

The deep throat noise is back and his robes swish as he walks down the stairs to our makeshift nest. He moves aside some of the blankets and rests the back of his hand against Donatello's forehead. My brother shivers and coughs when the cold air reaches his skin and Master Splinter frowns in reply.

"Raphael, Michelangelo please fill the tub," he instructs and my brothers give a nod.

Master Splinter inspects the fresh scrapes and bruises on Donnie's hands and knees with another grimace. Leaning over he slips an arm under his knees and the other firmly around his shell. Donnie grumbles and wriggles in protest as our father lifts him into his arms. Another round of coughing cuts off any further argument and he settles against him with tired eyes and raspy breathes. I stay close in case Sensei needs help. Donnie's a lot taller than he used to be and I'm not so sure Master Splinter can carry him all the way to the tub.

"W-wait! Wait, do you hear that?" Donnie asks. A grin spreads across his face and he points up towards the ceiling. "The pipes are rattling."

A look up and strain my ears until I too hear the gurgle and rattle of the pipes groaning to life.

"I knew it," Donnie says, pulling on the front of Master Splinter's robes. "I knew it would work, Sensei. I just…I'll have to work on the pipes in here, but it's a start. We can have heat and a stove and if I can find the parts I'm sure I can hook up a hot water tank," he says with that manic look in his eye he saves for when he prattles about his latest project. "We can have hot water, Sensei. No more boiling water on the hotplate."

Master Splinter smiles. It is warm and genuine and I know our punishment won't be as harsh as I feared. He moves one hand to rest against the back of Donnie's head.

"All in time, my son," he replies quietly. "You'll have plenty of time for work once you are well again."

He carefully sets Donnie down beside the tub. Judging by the water on the floor and the freshly soaked clothes of my other brothers I imagine the tub is full of less water than it was a few minutes ago. Sensei eases Donnie into the warm water and my brother leans back against the tub wall.

"Does that mean we're staying here, Sensei?" he asks and we all turn expectant eyes towards our father.

He strokes his beard with a thoughtful expression on his face. "Would you like that?"

"Yes!" Mikey answers immediately for the rest of us, earning a punch in the shoulder from Raph for his troubles.

I feel Master Splinter's hand on my shoulder and now it is comforting and there isn't a hint of shame. "I would like that as well."

I smile and the expression turns into a grin when Mikey reaches into the tub to splash Raph. The two race around the tub and Mikey squeals at each new threat thrown his way. Donnie watches over the edge of the tub, his raspy laughter only makes Raph threaten louder and Master Splinter roll his eyes. It is how things should be. It feels right. It finally feels like home.