The bricks were cold against Casey's back, but he wasn't much inclined to move. The air was still heavy with the smell of fresh paint, and he'd done this enough times to know that his clothes and his presence would warn off anyone likely to actually take offense at the fact that someone had spraypainted the alley wall. It'd be dry soon enough. Jamming his hands deeper into the pockets of his jacket, he turned his attention to the people on the street, keeping an eye out for anyone who might mean trouble for the neighbourhood. Between the cops who kept coming in to hassle the kids and the jerks who'd blown up Langenstein's house, there was more than enough to make him nervous.

More suits, he thought, rolling his eyes as a pair of businessmen walked past. That was the other problem lately. Damn gentrification. Yuppies moving in with their organic juice bars and "quaint" lofts, not caring that family businesses had been torn down to build them, or families displaced so that some schmuck could have a cute apartment. Suits were way too common these days, and Casey wasn't entirely sure they weren't just popping them out of some mold somewhere. Jerks all looked alike. No imagination. No creativity.

He glanced over his shoulder at the mural covering the wall, and grinned. Well, he could provide enough creativity to make up for it. Even if it was a kind of creativity not everyone appreciated.

A flash of yellow out of the corner of his eye drew his attention back to the street, and he felt his eyebrows climbing toward his hairline. Speak of appreciating. Leaving his post, he darted across the road, earning a blast of car horns for his caught the attention of pretty much everyone on the street, so when he finally caught up with his quarry, she was standing with her arms crossed and a brow raised. Skidding to a halt in front of her, he grinned and ran a hand through his hair. "Uh, hey, April."

"Hey yourself," she said, her voice warm with amusement.

"So, uh," he stammered, "I was just, uh, goin' for a walk…"

"Uh-huh." She planted her hand on her hip. "Is that why you smell like a paint factory?"

"Uh…" he said cleverly. Clearing his throat, he gestured at her. "So. What brings you to this neck of the woods? Lemme guess. You missed this handsome mug?"

April snorted, and he wasn't quite sure whether he should be insulted by that. Shaking her head, she held up the brown paper bag in her hand. "I had to make a run for rugelach from that coffee shop we went to. I've got a friend with a craving."

"Can't blame 'em," he said with an approving nod. "It's good stuff. I used to bribe Langenstein with it so she'd fix my computer. Might've dipped in for myself a bit."

"Thanks for the endorsement." April reached into the bag and pulled out one of the cookies, offering it to him. Not one to ever turn down an offer of baked goods, Casey took it from her and took a bite. Grinning, April folded up the bag again. "Welp, I should get going."

Casey's eyes widened. "Wait a second!" he protested, or tried to, hampered somewhat by the mouthful of rugelach. Coughing, he forced it down, thumping on his chest as the crumbs stuck in his throat. April had paused, that look on her face again, and he silently cursed his timing. What was it about this girl that made him constantly feel like the chump his fifteen-year-old self had been? His attempt at playing it cool thoroughly decimated, he cleared his throat and attempted to salvage something of the situation. "So, I've been thinking about the other night. I had a really good time, and unless I'm really bad at reading people, you didn't hate it either, so I was thinking, maybe, you'd, uh… like to do it again sometime? Tonight, maybe?"

April's face fell, her shoulders drooping. "Oh… Casey…"

Casey held up a finger, cutting her off. "Hold up. Lemme stop you right there. If you're gonna crush my spirits, could you kick me in the gut instead? It'll be faster, and I won't keep hearing it in my head tomorrow."

"No, no, that's not it. Oh my god, you are such a drama queen." She whacked him in the arm with the bag of rugelach. "I can't tonight, I have to get back to my friend." Digging into her pocket, she pulled out her phone and thumbed her way through her calendar. "But I could do Thursday."

Thursday. He was supposed to be pulling a shift for Big Mike at the garage on Thursday on the truck with the temperamental carburetor. Screw it. Big Mike would understand. Guys like Casey didn't get more than one shot with girls like April, and for a six-foot-six burly bearded dude, Big Mike had a surprisingly sentimental side. Every time they showed "Love, Actually" on TV, Big Mike would put it on the garage screens and pretend that it didn't make him cry every time.

"Thursday it is. Say, our usual coffee shop, six o'clock?"

"Make it six-thirty and you've got yourself a deal," April answered, with a smile that chased away the last of the evening's chill.

Casey grinned, jamming his hands into his pockets. "You mean I've got myself a date?"

"Don't push it," April said with a laugh. But she didn't say no.

Casey practically skipped his way down the street as he made his way home, still scarcely able to believe she'd said yes. She was a gorgeous, funny, smart TV reporter, and he was just a mook who washed out of pro hockey and fixed cars for way too little pay. But hey, he was pretty and he knew where to find the best deli sandwiches in the city. That had to count for something. At least, finally, he had one girl he could bring home to Ma and be reasonably sure his mother would find nothing to complain about.

He paused, frowning as he gave the idea more thought. Scratch that. Better not tempt fate. Ma could find fault with anyone. Except Oprah. She really liked Oprah.

A cold breeze whirled around him, dipping icy fingers down the collar of his jacket, and he shuddered violently. It had been a long time since he'd gone to see his mother. Maybe it was time he went for a visit. Or at least gave her a call. Life had been getting weird lately, and it just kept getting weirder. The kind of weird that made a guy think that maybe he oughtta tell his mom he loved her before…

Dark shapes moved on the other side of the street. Casey's brow furrowed, and he took a step toward the park. The Suits? What the hell kind of Suits go into a deserted park at this time of night?

Casey's lip curled into a grin. The kind of Suits I need to introduce myself to.

A short time later, he tugged his mask into place and slipped over the wall. Reaching over his shoulder, he grabbed his favourite bat and tugged it from his bag. Slowly, he wove through the trees, searching for signs of the elusive men. Whatever they were after — drugs, mafia maybe? — they'd regret taking it down on his turf.

He could hear something now. A high, whirring noise filtering through the brush. It sounded electronic — what the hell were these guys up to? Cautiously, he took a two-handed grip on the bat and inched closer, peering through the shadows. Assholes couldn't wear white suits, nooo, they had to stick to black. If one of them would just say something—

A hand locked around his wrist, yanking his grip off the bat. "Kraang has been seen in this place by one who should not be in this place."

Another voice, as cold and robotic as the first, answered from the dark. "Kraang must terminate the one who has seen Kraang in this place where the one should not be."

Casey snorted. "I'd like to see you try it, chump." With all his weight behind it, he swung the bat at the head of the Suit holding him.

It bounced. With a resounding clang, the bat freaking bounced. "What the f—" He swung again, pushing himself past his limits.

The bat cracked, leaving him staring at a splintered stump. "Aw, shit," he breathed.

A fist like iron drove into his face, and he knew the second the blow connected, sending bright fireworks across his vision, that if he hadn't been wearing the mask, his face would have been hamburger. As it was, he hit the ground hard, his hearing muted by the ringing in his ears. Spitting out the blood that filled his mouth — shit, if I lost another tooth, Ma'll brain me — he rolled to his knees, grabbing the stick from his bag. Twirling it once to build momentum, he swung it at the knees of the Suit advancing toward him.

The damn stick splintered, too.

Dropping the remains of it into the dirt, Casey scrabbled at his bag for the golf clubs, but the Suit — the Kraang thing — got there first. Those icy hands grabbed his wrists, twisting his arms behind his back and lifting him from the ground. Unable to help himself, Casey howled as he felt his joints begin to pop. Slowly, the other one moved toward him, drawing some kind of gun from beneath the tailored jacket.

A second later, there was a crunch of denting metal, and the Kraang flew through the air to collide with a nearby tree with a ringing clang. The shadows moved, and Casey barely had time to duck the massive green fist barreling toward him before it hit the second Kraang holding him. A curse blistered the air as Raph drew back his hand, shaking it out, but the Kraang's hold on him loosened, and Casey dropped to the ground. Raph's hand latched on to the strap over Casey's shoulder, dragging him back to his feet.

"Dude," Casey gasped. "These things aren't dudes!"

"What?" Raph snapped his eyes not leaving the Kraang who was staggering up from the base of the tree. One of its arms was bent at a ninety degree angle, and its head was on backward.

"They go clang!" Casey cried.

"Not helping!" Raph snapped.

Too late. Both of the Kraang were back on their feet, charging toward them. Casey yanked his driver from the bag, letting Raph handle the one that was still more or less in one piece. Backwards-head had taken a couple of steps to get its bearings, but it had recovered fully now, loping in an odd backward gait. Bracing himself, Casey took a hard swing at the knee, hoping that the joints of whatever-this-was were as vulnerable as a center forward's.

The joint bent with a crunch, and the Kraang toppled, digging furrows into the ground. Tightening his grip, Casey started wailing on the thing's head. The back of the skull started caving in, and he actually had a brief moment to think he was getting out of this alive before the unbroken arm shot out and grabbed his ankle, yanking his feet out from under him.

As he went down, howling, he caught sight of Raph pounding on the other Kraang. The turtle had those fork-things out again, and as the Kraang turned to reach for what would probably be another weapon, Raph plunged one of them into the thing's shoulder and ripped its arms from its body. It landed in the grass nearby in a shower of sparks.

"Holy shit!" Casey yelped. "They're terminators!"

"That's just a movie!" Raph hammered a fist into his Kraang's face, which was looking decidedly flat now, and plunged the fork-thing in his other hand straight into the Kraang's eye. With more sparks, it began to convulse.

Casey's Kraang had started using its good hand to crawl up Casey's leg. No more time to admire Raph's handiwork. With a yell, he whacked it a couple times on the head and turned the club, attempting to pry the hand off his leg. The fingers tightened, and he screamed again. Damn thing was like a vise. It was going to break the bone. Snap it like a—

With a bellow of rage, Raph vaulted over the sparking remains of the Kraang he'd been fighting and grabbed the one on top of Casey by the face, yanking it into the air. With his other hand, he hauled back and drove his fist into the Kraang's chest. The Kraang flew back several feet, but its face remained in Raph's hand.

Casey's piercing scream was matched by Raph's, several octaves lower. Flailing, he swatted at Raph's leg, the only part of him that he could reach, as Raph flung the face away from himself and hopped in a frantic circle. Raph was the one who regained control, frantically shushing Casey, and finally clamping a hand over Casey's mouth in desperation. Of course, since the turtle's hand was the size of a goalie's mitt, it covered Casey's entire head, cutting off his air supply His screams muffled, Casey whacked at Raph's arm with the golf club until he let go, and drew in a gasping breath as soon as he was free of the turtle's grip.

"Shhh!" Raph hissed. "Dude, you scream like a girl."

Casey pointed frantically at the unmoving remains of the Kraang. "The dude's face came off!"

"You said that's not a dude!" Raph shot back. He hunkered down next to Casey, looking him over. "You okay?"

"No, I am not okay," Casey spat. "The dude's FACE CAME OFF!"

"I know!" Raph rubbed a hand over his face. "I am so outta my league here. I gotta get this back to the nerd squad."

Casey narrowed his eyes. In the heat of the moment, he'd forgotten why they'd fought the last time, but it was all flooding back now. "You—"

Raph raised a hand. "Don't. Just don't, okay? We can go at it again next time, but this—" his sweeping gesture took in the sparking remains of the Kraang. "This is big. And bad. We need to figure this out, and fast, before there are more of 'em."

Shuddering, Casey rubbed at his bruised arm. "You really think there's more?"

"Trust me," Raph said, without a trace of humour in his voice. "There's always more." Pulling Casey to his feet, Raph walked over to the Kraang he'd been fighting and hoisted it over a shoulder. "Come on," he said. "I can't do this by myself."

Casey looked over at the other Kraang corpse, and let out a long, slow groan. "You have got to be kidding me."

Over an hour of grunting, sweating, and cursing later, Casey dropped his burden to the floor and kicked it out of sheer spite. Regretting the move almost instantly, he hopped around on one foot for a minute, swearing, before he took in his surroundings. "What is this dump?"

Crashing metal rang through the small space as Raph dropped his own Kraang. "This used to be home," he said. "Before the Foot blew it up."

Casey shoved his mask back off his face, genuinely horrified as he looked over at the turtle. "Shit, man, I'm sorry."

Raph shook his head. "Naw. You didn't know. And it coulda' been worse." He let out a huff, folding his arms as he surveyed the desolation. "We all got out. It coulda been a lot worse."

The Foot blew it up. Which reminded him…. Planting his hands on his hips, Casey turned to face the turtle. "Look," he said, "I know it's a sore spot, but about Langestein—"

That was the last thing he remembered. When he woke up again, he was on the edge of the park with a screaming headache and no idea how he'd gotten there. Cursing, he pushed himself to his feet, staggering a few steps before catching himself on the park wall.

"Freaking ninja!"

April had done things that terrified her before. Running into her father's lab. Sneaking into a subway station full of terrorists taking hostages. Falling from the top of a skyscraper. Come to think of it, most of the terrifying things in her life had happened in the past couple of months. After all of that, walking down a hallway to talk to one man should have been a breeze.

But at the end of that hall was the man who had taken everything from her when she was a child. The man who had almost taken it all again just a few months ago. Even though she knew he was powerless to hurt her in this place, there was a part of her that just wanted to turn tail and run. Especially after finding out that he was only allowed one visitor at a time.

A hand came to rest against her shoulder, and though the touch was light, it was enough to make her startle half out of her mind. Embarrassed, she glanced over her shoulder, but there was no mockery in Vern's face as his hand tightened just a little. "It'll be okay, O'Neil," he said quietly. "You got this. You're gonna go in there, and do what you're good at, and when you're done, the Fenwick Express and I'll be waiting to take you away."

For the span of several breaths, April just stood there, unable to say anything around the lump in her throat. Smiling, she reached up and squeezed his hand, suddenly very, very glad that he was part of her life. In response, he hugged her to his side and dropped a kiss on the top of her head. "Give 'im hell, Boss."

Squaring her shoulders, April nodded once and moved away from him. This was her fight, and she wasn't backing down.

Leo shifted, looking out over the parking lot. It wasn't nearly late enough. The shadows at the base of the water tower hid them fairly well, but the sun was barely down, and he could feel the light crawling under his shell and making him itch. He hated being so far away from April. How were they supposed to watch out for her when she was behind reinforced walls and razor wire? Of course, shuko spikes would get them over the wall easily enough, and the wire shouldn't be a problem for the shells… Slightly mollified, he settled in and began planning ways to break into the prison. Some of them were slightly more difficult, and one of them required the use of a dirigible of some sort, but he had a good stable of alternate plans going by the time Mikey's humming finally became unbearable. "Will you cut that out?" he whispered sharply.

"Bro, how can you just sit there?" Mikey shot back. "April's in there gettin' her Lois Lane on. How are you not jazzed about how cool that is?" Mikey bounced to the watertower and grabbed for the edge, pulling himself up and hooking his legs over the edge so that he could flop backward, swinging slightly as he dangled upside down. "And if she's Lois Lane, you know what that makes me?"

"You're not Superman," Leo said flatly.

"What about Superboy?"

"No."

"Supergirl?"

"Mikey!"

"All right, all right." Mikey sighed, using his arms to start himself swinging again. "Does that make Vern Jimmy Olson?"

Leo groaned and placed his head in his hands.

She couldn't believe that she'd once admired the man. Once, she had thought him caring, and warm. Now, the eyes that stared at her from across the partition were dead. Cold. She'd say reptilian, but that was an insult to the reptiles she knew and loved. He was more like a robot. He looked human, and acted human, but there was nothing inside him.

"Well, well. April O'Neil. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

April took a slow, deep breath. "Mr. Sacks. I think you know why I'm here."

"Do I?" he said, leaning forward. "Please, April. Enlighten me."

Damn, she thought. I guess that would have been too easy.

"The Foot Clan," she said. "Who's leading them now that Shredder's gone and you're in here?"

He laughed, a sound like oil and grease. "Oh, sweet little April. Assuming I knew anything about that nefarious terrorist organization — which, of course, I do not — why on Earth would I tell you a single thing?"

April leaned back, crossing her legs as she glared at him through the scratched, dirty glass. "Because if you do, I'll do a story. The media will keep talking about you. New York will always remember Sacks tower and what you did."

He raised a brow. "And if I don't?"

"Then I won't say anything," April replied. "Everyone else has already moved on. You're old news to them. I'll find my story somewhere else, and you'll sit in here, small, and nameless, and forgotten."

He stared at her for a very long time without saying a word. Finally, he eased away from the glass. "I have money, Miss O'Neil. Even after what they confiscated, you could save until your retirement and not come close to what I've got in the bank right now. What makes you think I'd be remotely interested in your proposal?"

"You're still here," she said.

A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "So I am," he said. Sitting back, he mirrored her pose, resting his arm across his knee. "So. Tell me why you think the Foot has a new leader."

"You watch the news, don't you?"

"Absolutely," he said. "And can I say, I do miss those pieces you used to do. It's a shame, really. I haven't seen you in spandex in months."

Ugh. Gross. She suppressed the urge to shudder. He's slime. This is not news. Keep digging. "You're a brilliant man, Mr. Sacks. Surely I don't have to explain which current events lend themselves to the Foot's MO?"

"Oh, I don't know," he shot back. "The world really is in such a sorry state these days, it could be any number of things. Why, just look at you. You're looking positively green." He smirked at her. "You really should see someone about that. I hear it's catching."

She'd known it wasn't going to be easy. But for the next quarter of an hour, Sacks just sat there smugly, dodging her questions and reminding her pointedly at every turn that he, too, knew her greatest secret, and though few people were likely to do anything other than have him committed if he talked about them, it was a risk she wasn't willing to take.

"Donnie!"

Raph crashed into the lair, nearly wiping out on Donnie and Irma, who'd set themselves up back-to-back on the floor surrounded by a ring of laptops. Irma gave a yelp and grabbed the one with the stickers all over it, holding it close as she stared up at him.

"What?" Donnie staggered to his feet. "Did something happen?"

"You gotta come! The old lair. The thing — I pulled its face off — it went clang, and then— You gotta come now!" He glanced down at Irma. "She's a nerd too. Better bring 'er."

Raph didn't always get along with Donnie. Donnie's insistence on giving every single stupid detail of every single stupid thing grated on him; he didn't need to know how something worked, he just needed to know what it did and where to punch it if it needed breaking. But when they did get along, which was often, it was because Donnie was the kind of guy who listened to the broken babble of words coming from Raph's mouth, scratched beneath the strap of his goggles once, and said only, "Lemme get my tech pack. Should we wake Splinter?"

"Depends. How's he doing?"

"He could use the rest if it's not an emergency."

Raph considered it, and shook his head. "He'll need to know. But let him rest while he can."

Nodding, Donnie hooked his toes under his bo and flipped it, catching it and passing it to Irma. As Donnie took off to gear up, Irma used it to lever herself to her feet.

"You gonna be able to walk on that?" Raph looked pointedly at her ankle.

"Yeah, I should be fine with the stick. It's a lot better than it used to be." She carefully shifted her weight, testing the ankle.

It seemed to hold up okay, which was a relief. He really didn't want to have to catch her or anything if she keeled over. He was starting to think twice about bringing her with, but Donnie seemed to think she was really good with her tiny robots, and right now, Raph didn't want to take any chances.

"How'd you hurt it like that, anyway?" he demanded.

"Oh, oh, I can answer this one!" Mikey's disembodied voice burst from one of the computers.

Raph turned, scowling down at the open Skype window he'd missed when he'd come in. Mikey's face loomed way too close to the camera in his phone. "What are you doing on the line? Aren't you supposed to be on lookout?"

"He was bored." Leo's voice was faint, obviously a ways away from where Mikey was, but there was no mistaking that level of done. Raph was just glad it wasn't leveled at him this time.

"But seriously, Donnie and I saw the surveillance video," Mikey continued, unfazed by Leo's tone. "She kicked a Foot dude in the nuts so hard, he fell down. It was sick, dude, you shoulda seen it."

Well. Raph hadn't expected that from a tiny little thing like her. But then, there had to be something Donnie saw in her, other than the nerd stuff."Heh. Nice." Raph tapped her lightly on the arm.

Irma staggered sideways a couple steps, but caught herself quickly and shrugged. There was an edge to the smile she gave him. "The gloating got cut a bit short by the cattle prod they stuck me with for the trouble." She rubbed her side. "Those things hurt."

"Yeah. We know," Donnie said, reappearing as he shrugged his pack into place. Irma's face fell, and she reached out to pat Donnie's shell. Giving her a small, understanding smile, Donnie shrugged and picked up the laptop with the open Skype. "Say goodbye, Mikey."

"No!" Mikey protested. "We can get bars down there. Guys, take me with you!"

Not waiting to see if Donnie actually fell for it, Raph reached out and shoved the laptop closed. "Come on," he said. "You're not gonna believe this."

"I'm sorry, April," Sacks said in response to her latest line of questioning. "I'm afraid my mind's just not what it was in the good old days."

April's fists clenched as she watched the guard in the corner check his watch. Time was almost up, and she was getting nowhere. Desperately, she went back over the files in her mind, searching for something she'd missed. Anything that might catch him off guard. Get him talking.

The good old days…

April's eyes widened. Oh my god. The good old days. She'd missed it before — he'd looked different then and she'd been so young. But she finally realized why Stockman had looked so familiar when she'd shown up to interview him. Maybe her mind was playing tricks on her, making connections where they didn't exist. It was a risk. A hell of a risk. But if she was right…

"Baxter Stockman," she said.

Sacks blinked. "What about him?"

"Back when my father worked for you, in the early days, just before — just before Project Renaissance," she said, leaning forward. "Stockman worked for you, too."

"Interned," Sacks corrected. "Forgive me, I fail to see where this is—" He froze, his eyes widening. "Oh. Oh, of course. The missing batch of mutagen." Sacks turned his eyes back to her, and with a polite nod, hung up the phone and ended the conversation.

Panic coursed through her. No. No no no. She'd thought she'd figured it out. Thought that Stockman had been in on Irma's abduction with Sacks, but clearly she'd just screwed up colossally and put the scientist smack in the middle of Sacks' radar. Whatever she'd just done — it was bad. Really bad.

She needed to get back to the guys.

It had been a long time since he'd been back. Since he'd rescued the last of his tech, Donnie hadn't wanted to have anything more to do with the place where he'd watched his father almost die. Too many unpleasant memories that his perfect recall was only too happy to throw back at him.

The spring thaw certainly hadn't been kind to the place. Water had seeped into the cracks left behind by the explosion, inexorably prying its way into the support structures until half the ceiling had come down. Stagnant water pooled on the floor, the drain clogged by debris. Mikey's pizza box furniture had practically melted from the damp, and the mold and mildew growing on the wet cardboard filled the air with a fetid, choking perfume.

He reached out to steady Irma with a hand beneath her elbow as she stumbled on the uneven concrete. She shifted a little closer, and he could feel her shivering through the fabric of Mikey's hoodie. "Oh, guys," she said, and even her hushed voice was too loud in the broken lair. "I'm so sorry."

Donnie could sense Raph coiling to respond, ready to lash out as he always did at whatever made him uncomfortable. The comment prodded spots that were still sore in both of them. Donnie turned his head, ready to step in as Raph rounded on them, but both of them caught sight of Irma's face at the same time as she surveyed the ruined lair, and their gazes met over her head in shared understanding. She truly meant it. She'd been through the same thing, and she didn't even have this much left. He watched Raph visibly swallow whatever he'd been about to say and reach out to pat her awkwardly on the shoulder. "Thanks. But we ain't here for that. C'mon."

"It's just a place," Donnie said quietly as they moved to follow Raph. "The variables that make it home are all at the new lair." It sounded good. He almost believed it himself.

"Variables of home, huh?" Irma eased carefully around a stream of water from above. "I like that. Quotient of action figures to the power of game hours logged?"

"Multiplied by a factor of gigabytes of drive memory," Donnie added with a smirk.

"Hey," Raph broke in. "Nerd later. Look at this."

Donnie swallowed hard. Raph stood in the doorway of the dojo, and though they'd been in and out since to collect the weapons that had survived the explosion, Donnie's most vivid recent memory of the place was of watching the Shredder plunging the blades of his gauntlet into their father. Irma pulled ahead of him, but her limping gait faltered as she caught sight of whatever was in there.

"No way," she breathed.

It took only a few steps to bring him up next to her, a hand resting on her shoulder. In another moment, he found himself echoing her.

The twisted metal automata were like nothing he'd ever seen before. He dropped down into the remains of the dojo, leaving Irma to make her own way as he tugged his goggles down, activating full spectral analysis. "Raph…" Donnie reached out, lifting a mangled metal limb and flexing it, watching servos move through the thin covering of skin beneath the shredded suit. "What in the world…?"

"We ran into these guys in the park." Raph jumped from the walkway, landing hard next to Donnie. "Took a hell of a lot to bring 'em down."

Donnie glanced up sharply at his brother. "We?"

"Uh, yeah." Raph fidgeted beneath Donnie's stare. "I had help."

"From whom?"

"Just a guy."

Donnie raised a brow. "Does Leo know about this guy?"

Raph's eyes narrowed. "No, and you ain't gonna tell him or I'm gonna let it slip that you buy software with online gambling credit."

Donnie's eyes widened in horror. "You wouldn't."

"Try me."

"Guys!" Irma broke in, hobbling her way up to where the mangled metal men lay. "Focus please." She jabbed Raph in the ribs with Donnie's bo. "You're seriously saying you were fighting some kind of robots today?" Her lip wrinkling in disgust, she prodded the head of the faceless one with the end of the bo. The clang resonated through the room.

"Yeah," Raph said, dropping into a crouch next to them. "They were mean, too. Didn't say much. Just pretty focused on wiping us out."

"The strong, silent types, huh?" Irma eased herself down next to Donnie and poked a finger at the metal skull, frowning as she examined the green goo stuck to her fingers. "Okay, that was probably a really stupid thing to do without gloves." She quickly wiped her hands on her sushi cat pants. "Donnie, what the hell did I just touch?"

He wished he could tell her. He raised a hand to adjust his visor feeds, but it didn't help much. "I don't know. It's an organic compound, for sure, but I'm not getting anything useful here. My sensors are having a lot of trouble working it out."

"All I know is that this dude isn't a dude," Raph said, drawing a sai to tease away the torn material from the thing's chest.

"Thank you for that extremely scientific assessment," Donnie said.

"Bite me, Don."

Irma shifted, leaning closer to the robot. "Wait, do you guys see this?" She took hold of Raph's hand, ignoring his startled look, and guided Raph to help her expose the thing's chest and stomach. She was right. The stomach was looking distinctly swollen, and it looked like there was a tear in the extremely lifelike skin over the abdomen, revealing something pink beneath. Irma reached out with Donnie's bo and prodded the tear.

The skin split, and the three of them started screaming as what appeared to be a large, tentacle-bearing brain spilled from the robot's stomach. By the time the panic subsided, all three of them were clinging to one another, as far away from the thing as they could get without falling off the drain.

Reeling his terror under control, Donnie shushed the other two. "Guys, I think it's dead." He plucked the bo from Irma's hand and poked at the brain thing. It rolled over, revealing what appeared to be a mouth lined with razor-sharp teeth and a tongue that lolled from the mouth. The creature didn't move, and the pale yellow ichor seeping from it seemed like a good indicator of it's current deceased state.

"What the hell is it?" Irma whispered, smacking Donnie's hand as he continued to prod the thing.

"It looks like mutant calamari," Raph answered.

"It's not mutant calamari," Donnie murmured. "That's just silly. Squid have ten tentacles and smooth rather than rugose skin, not to mention gills and a beak rather than-"

"Donnie," Irma said sharply. "Big picture. A big squiggly brain thing just fell out of a robot's stomach. What was it doing in there?"

Frowning, Donatello leaned forward, examining the now-empty abdominal cavity. He reached out, running a finger along one of several smooth indentations along the cavity wall. "Um… controlling the robot, I think."

"Wait," Raph said, grabbing Donnie's shoulder. "Did you hear that?"

"Hear what?" Donnie asked. A second later, he heard it. A soft clank coming from the direction of the second robot on the floor.

Three heads slowly turned in its direction, just in time to see the second prone automaton lurch like a stranded fish. The human figure thrashed, its abdomen swelling like a balloon, and with a sick, wet, tearing sound, a second brain thing tore free of the body and darted for the shadows, its shrill shriek accompanied by the panicked screaming of the rest of them as Raph plucked Irma up like a ragdoll and they bolted in the opposite direction.

If Leo's teeth clenched any harder, they were going to crack. He'd had a bit of a reprieve while Donnie and Irma distracted him, but Mikey was bored again, and his humming had escalated to singing. And if he had to listen to that damn song one more time… His eyes "Mikey."

"...it just goes on and on my frieeeeends…"

"Mikey!"

"...and they'll continue singing it forever just bec-mmppph!"

"Mikey!" Leo whispered harshly as he grabbed his brother's face, turning it until Mikey was following his line of sight. "We got movement."

As soon as he felt his brother snap to battle-readiness, Leo let go and reached for his katana. Black-clad figures ghosted along the walls toward the prison gates, and Leo was certain it was no coincidence that they were showing up now.

Mikey's eyes narrowed. "Oh, no. No way. They're not touching our girl on my watch."

"Time to teach them a lesson." Two strides took him to the edge of the roof, and he flung himself into the night, accompanied by the flare of Mikey's board.

The only thing stopping Irma from a full-on mental breakdown was the solid bulk of the two turtles wrapped around her in the dark, their ragged breathing punctuating her own.

"What the hell?" she squeaked. "What the everloving hell?"

"Where is it?" Raph's gruff voice couldn't quite hide the edge of panic. "You see where it went?"

A soft electric hum heralded Donnie's switch to night vision. "It's got to be here somewhere… we have to find it."

"No," Irma whispered. "We have to get out of here." Chill seeped into her as the two turtles slowly moved away, scanning the dark.

"I really don't think that's advisable," Donnie murmured. "If we don't know where it is, there's a good possibility it could track us if we-"

He kept going, but that was all she heard. Something fetid and slimy dropped onto her from the pipes overhead, and the scream that tore from her was cut short as impossibly strong tentacles wrapped around her neck, squeezing until the breath stopped in her throat. Her fingernails scrabbled fruitlessly across the tough, sinewy skin as she fought for breath, but that only served to make the thing tighten its grip.

In another moment, Donnie was next to her, his massive fingers attempting to pry the tendrils from her neck. "Raph!" he cried. "Help me! She can't breathe!"

Swearing, Raph dropped to his knees next to them, but instead of joining Donnie in his attempts to stop the thing from strangling her, he drove one of his sai toward the bulbous body of the creature. It opened its mouth, a shriek like broken glass erupting from it as the weapon scored along the tough skin, but the blow had hurt it enough that Donnie was able to tear it free, flinging it into the shadows. Irma bent double, gagging as her lungs fought for air.

"Now what did you go and do that for?" Raph snapped.

"I had to get it off her," Donnie snapped back, his hand stroking Irma's back as he encouraged her to breathe. "It was killing her!"

"Yeah, but now we have to find it again before we can kill it!" Raph wrapped his arm around Irma's waist, but she couldn't stop coughing long enough to make even a token protest as he hoisted her off the ground. "Come on. Let's hide her and then track the thing down once and for all."

"But-" Donnie flailed weakly as he followed in Raph's wake.

"You want that thing getting loose? You want it finding Sensei?"

With a quiet groan of defeat, Donnie stopped protesting and followed his brother. Maybe it was the hysteria setting in, but as Irma fought for air, tucked beneath the arm of a giant teenage mutant chelonian, she couldn't help wondering if April was having this much fun.

The only thing that kept April from running from the building once she'd passed the last set of doors were the eyes of the guards on her. She didn't want to attract any undue attention while she was being shadowed by her two teenage mutants. It was probably for the best, anyway. If she'd been running, she'd never have caught the movement in the shadows as she entered the parking lot.

She threw herself to the side, the grasping hands of the black-clad figure barely missing her, and dug into her pocket, her hands closing around one of Donnie's gifts. When the inevitable guy behind her grabbed hold of her arm, she was ready for him. A howl ripped from his throat as she jammed the small taser into his shoulder. The charge in the little thing wasn't enough to take him out completely, but it was enough to get him to let go. Then she was running, her feet pounding across the concrete as a sea of darkness rose up to meet her.

Shit. Shit shit shit. Well, that settled any questions as to whether Sacks had contacts on the inside.

The Foot were closing in on her. She could hear the footsteps echoing, but little else. Then, the sound of a car horn shattered the silence. Light tore through the darkness, and the screech of car tires blistered her ears as Vern slammed into the back of the group. April glanced back over her shoulder, her wide eyes meeting his as he sat behind the wheel. Guards began to boil out of the prison, far too far away. Vern was yelling, and she didn't have any difficulty making out the word.

Go!

He'd be okay. The Foot couldn't risk hanging around him when the prison guards were so close. They were already dragging their fallen comrades away. But for April…

She doubled her speed as the remaining horde moved to flank her.

"Coming through!"

That voice, that familiar, beloved voice, had never sounded so sweet. She had a single moment of euphoria as relief flooded through her before Mikey slammed into her with the full force of his rocket boosters behind him. The breath left her in a rush as his arm wrapped tightly around her waist and her feet left the ground, and her scream came out as more of a breathless squeak as he barreled through the remaining Foot, the nunchucks in his other hand clearing a path as they went. As soon as she recovered enough to move, her arms went around his neck, and she clung for dear life as he used a car to launch them both skyward, the Foot in hot pursuit.

"Hey Angelcakes!" Mikey chirped, shouting to be heard over the sound of his board and the weapon-fire below as they crossed a roof. "What's up? Thought we could hang out. You know, you, me, the stars-" He paused to launch them off a ledge, spinning like the blades of a helicopter until they came down on the adjacent structure. "Whaddya say?"

They'd left her stomach behind on the last building. "I think I'm gonna be sick."

"Oooh, not on the shell please," he said, glancing at her in concern. "I just had it detailed."

Some of the Foot had made it to the roof behind them, and April's eyes widened as the rifles came to bear on them. "Mikey!"

A second later, the mountain that was Leo piled into the soldiers, taking three down and knocking the rest from the roof. As more swarmed up to take their place, he turned in pursuit of her and Mikey, placing the shield of his shell between her and the guns. "Go," he cried as he gained on them fast. "There's too many. Mikey, we need to get April clear!"

"On it, brah!"

April squeaked and clung fast to Mikey's shell as he kicked off again, heading for the shipping yard nearby. Far in the distance, the mournful cry of a train whistle drifted over the sounds of gunfire, and April's eyes widened. "Mikey. Mikey, no."

"Hey, don't worry," Mikey soothed, lashing out to kick a Foot soldier coming in from their right. "We got this. I've always liked trains."

Somehow, she did not find that as reassuring as he seemed to mean it to be.

Irma lay in the dark, slowly going over the life choices that had led her to where she was now, stuffed beneath a sewer grate in an abandoned pumping station as stagnant water dripped down on her, waiting for two oversized mutant turtles to find the freak of nature brain monster that had jumped out of the stomach of a human-skinned robot and seemed hell-bent on choking the life out of her. But no matter how many times she went over it, she couldn't get around the fact that this just wasn't the kind of thing your career counsellor factored in during your sessions.

She couldn't even hear Raph and Donnie any more, but told herself that was just the ninja thing going on. They hadn't abandoned her. Slowly, she reached up and pushed on the grate above her, but as the laws of physics hadn't altered themselves in the ten minutes since she'd tried last, it was still too heavy to move. With a soft breath, she rested her head on her arms, trying not to think about the composition of the muck beneath her. They hadn't abandoned her. They were coming back. She wasn't going to die here in the mud in a storm drain, forgotten by everyone except the rats.

Something brushed her ankle again and she kicked out violently. She'd already had this fight with the rats. "Forget it, this is my storm drain," she whispered harshly.

In response, something rough and sinewy twined tightly around her ankle.

Irma drew in a sharp breath, trying frantically to dislodge the thing that held her, but her suspicions were confirmed as a second tentacle wrapped around her other ankle, pinning her legs together.

Irma screamed, thrashing to free herself, but the cry turned to one of agony as the thing sank its teeth through the fabric of her sushi cat pyjamas and bit deep into her calf. Fire blossomed up her leg as the teeth tore into her, and she managed to wrench one leg free, reaching down in an attempt to jam the frog slipper in the thing's jaws as it readjusted its grip on her.

The grate above her lifted suddenly, a crash reverberating through the lair as the grate was flung into a nearby wall. The light from Donnie's tech pack nearly blinded her before it was blocked out by Raph's bulk as he hauled her from her hiding place, revealing the massive brain-thing that clung to her leg like a tumour. It hissed, biting though the frog and into her leg once more in defiance before Donnie's bo connected with it and flung it back into the shadows.

"Stop that!" Raph bellowed, dumping Irma to the ground. "You take care of her. I'm gonna go squish that little bug."

"Irma?" Donnie bent over her, and she raised a hand to shield her eyes as the light blinded her again. "Irma, are you okay?"

She blinked, but it didn't help clear the rainbows from her eyes. In awe, she moved her hand between them, her jaw dropping as the motion left sparkling trails across her vision. She giggled softly, waving her hand at him. "It's pretty!"

"What the hell is she talking about?" came Raph's shout from the shadows.

Scowling, Donnie adjusted his goggles, and Irma couldn't help laughing again at the change in his appearance. "You look like a bug."

"No no no no no no…" Donnie breathed. "Raph! I think it's venomous! She's showing definite signs of narcotic intoxication!"

"Great," Raph spat. "As if we didn't have en-OW!"

"What?" Donnie yelped.

"I think it bit me! I'm gonna pound that thing into paste!"

Donnie dragged Irma upright, keeping an arm around her as she wobbled - the rest of the world took a while to catch up with her. As her head lolled against Donnie's shoulder, she watched Raph stalk into the light from Donnie's pack.

Something brushed against her hand. She glanced down and shrieked, recoiling from the tentacle inching for her wrist. An instant later, the appendage was gone, Raph's sai quivering in the concrete next to her.

"What does that thing have against me?" she asked, her voice still rough from the earlier strangling. "You're the one who ripped its face off."

"No, I ripped its friend's face off," Raph corrected brusquely.

"Same difference," Irma said.

"That's a good question," Donnie said, his fingers on Irma's wrist as he checked her pulse. "We're clearly the obvious threats, so why doesn't it go after us first?"

"Because I'm the prettiest," Irma said, only a trace of slurring in her voice - she was proud of that.

Raph smirked. "Keep telling yourself that, you're gonna make Mikey jealous."

"Actually, she may have a point," Donnie said. "Whatever the origin of these things, they were attempting to disguise themselves as humans, which suggests a need to infiltrate and get close. Maybe Irma has something it wants. Or needs."

"My sweet, sweet, blood?" Irma suggested, gesturing at her blood-stained pants. With a quiet curse, Donnie tore off the shredded remains of her pant leg below the knee and bound it tightly around her injured calf.

"So that means if it thinks it can get to her…" Raph looked thoughtfully at Irma. "It might come out and play."

Irma's eyes widened. Things didn't look so pretty anymore.

April knew she was screaming. She could feel it tearing her throat raw. But all she could hear was the shriek of the train's engine as they plunged out of the air toward it. Her scream cut off abruptly as they landed, her teeth jarring together with aching force.

"See?" Mikey shouted proudly over the noise of the engine. "I told you we could make it- whoa!" One arm still locked around April's waist, Mikey ducked out of the path of the katana that cleaved through the dark around them. A second later, Leo landed next to them, kicking the attacker out of the way and sending him spinning off the train.

"Stay sharp, Mikey, they're still coming." The katana in Leo's hands rang against those of the new combattants falling to the train around them in a silent, deadly rain.

These Foot soldiers were different. Leaner. Faster. Quieter. These ones didn't carry guns.

"Duuude," Mikey said. "When did the Foot start recruiting actual ninjas?"

"My guess?" Leo said, grunting beneath a dual assault. "Just after meeting us."

"Huh. Makes sense." Mikey dropped off his board to the roof of the train, kicking the boosters and sending the board crashing into the ninjas on their other side. As the Foot were thrown from the train, Mikey caught his board on the rebound and dropped it in place on his back. "They're not bad."

"No," Leo said between grunts. "They're not. So get April someplace safe and come help me."

"Oh. Right." Mikey hitched April more securely against his side. "Hang on, April. This might get a little bumpy."

Her nails practically dug furrows into his shell as Mikey pounded down the length of the train, vaulting the gaps between cars until they came to one with a ladder protruding onto the roof. He set her down carefully, guiding her hands to the rails, and he didn't let go until he was certain she had a secure hold on it. "Okay, you sit tight. We'll just go take care of this, and I'll be right back."

"Sure," April said, fighting the tremor in her voice. "Take your time. This is comfy."

His grin flashed in the darkness, and he was gone.

Leo didn't like this. Not one bit. These guys were good. Way too good. A splintered, dying terrorist organization shouldn't suddenly have ninjas on par with him and his brothers. Ducking a tanto flung from the dark, he retaliated with one of his own, allowing himself a small moment of satisfaction as his blade met its mark, sending another soldier toppling from the train. The moment didn't last long, though. Not with the others closing in.

He was fighting on both sides now, the sound of his katana singing against the blades of his opponents the only sound to be heard over the roar of the train. It was eerie. The Foot were usually so… so loud. At least, it was quiet until Mikey joined the fray. His brother ploughed into the Foot ninjas with a whoop, and he didn't have to worry about his left side any more.

"What took you so long?" Leo shouted.

"Gotta show my girl a good time," Mikey retorted. As Leo engaged with both katana, another ninja bore down on him with a naginata, only to fall beneath Mikey's spin kick to get dragged off by the wind of the train's motion. "You know how it is."

"Is she safe?" Leo asked, driving his foot into the chest of his current opponent and flinging him off the roof.

"As safe as anyone can be on top of a speeding train with a bunch of ninjas after her," he answered.

Dispatching the last of his own opponents, Leo turned to stare at Mikey. As Mikey snared his assailant's wrist with the chain of his chucks and flipped him off the train, his eyes met Leo's, and Leo watched the delight drain from his face. "Uhhh…. we should probably get back there."

"You think?"

Without wasting any more words, the brothers pounded down the length of the train, just in time to see the shadowed figures closing around April. Leo surged forward, using his katana to clear a path for Mikey, who swooped in to grab their hogosha out of the way of the sword slicing toward her. As Leo dispatched his opponent, the others vaulted to the roof of the next car in pursuit of Mikey and April.

"Leo!" Mikey called. "Think fast!"

April's shriek of protest was all the warning Leo had. With barely enough time to sheathe his katana, he reached out and caught April as she flew through the air toward him.

She landed with a breathless gasp, her arms locking around his neck. "Okay," she panted, and he could feel her shaking. "No more of that."

"Hey, we're the experts, remember," Leo said, edging back as the Foot realized their quarry was back on this car. "We know what we're doing."

"I am not a football," she protested.

"Nah, you're way too pretty for that!" Mikey called as he ran past them, the Foot in pursuit. "Leo, I'm open."

Ignoring April's protest, Leo tossed her back to Mikey and drew his katana once again, meeting the upraised blades of the Foot ninja with a clash.

Tucking April against his side, Mikey evaded the Foot on his heels by dropping down and swinging into the open door of the car on which they stood. A moment later, a chorus of aggrieved mooing erupted from the car.

"Oops," Mikey shouted. "Sorry, cows!"

Leo grinned as Mikey swung back up to the roof, taking out another two ninjas in the process. "Mikey, I told you, I'll take you to the petting zoo for your birthday, now quit playing with the livestock."

"Awww," Mikey whined, spinning over Leo's shell to plough into the two attempting to sneak up from behind. "But I love cows! They're so cute when they go moo."

A heavy thud shook the train, and the brothers glanced over toward the caboose. A decidedly heavier Foot soldier stood there, levelling a rocket launcher on his shoulder.

"Oh, come on," Leo said. "Where are these guys even coming from?"

"Looks like they got tired of playing fair," Mikey said. "Good thing. I'm beat. We're almost at Ray's. We could stop and get a snack."

Leo glanced at his brother, understanding dawning as he read Mikey's expression. "Wow, that's actually a good idea."

Mikey stuck out his tongue. "Don't sound so surprised, brah. I'm full of 'em."

The remaining Foot were grouping around the one with the rocket launcher as he fiddled with the controls; apparently, firing heavy ordnance on a moving train wasn't as easy as it looked. Leo and Mikey closed ranks, advancing slowly on the clustered ninjas.

"Sorry, boys," Leo said, batting a shuriken away with his katana. "This is your stop."

As one, Leo and Mikey dove off the sides of the train, catching hold of the roof and swinging in amongst the cows below, leaving the Foot with just enough time to see the low rail bridge the turtles had been blocking before it swept all of them clear off the top of the train.

Leo patted a cow soothingly as the sound of an explosion reverberated behind them. "Hey. Looks like he got that rocket launcher working after all."

"Good for him," Mikey said, offering a hand to April to help her down from the hayloft where he'd stashed her. "I knew he could do it if he put his mind to it."

"Come on," Leo said. "There's a subway connection coming up, and it's heading our way. We can have a nice leisurely trip almost all the way home."

"Remind me to talk to you sometime about your definition of 'leisurely,'" April groused, picking straw out of her hair. But she paused to smile at them both. "And thanks. For the whole saving my life again thing."

Leo grinned. "It's one of the perks of being family."

Mikey scooped her into his arms. "You know, aside from the whole getting to hang out with me thing."

April rolled her eyes. "Right. But let's go hang out with the others. We've got a lot to talk about."

We are SO going to be talking about this. Irma shivered, wrapping her sodden hoodie more closely around her as she tried to convince her eyes to stop showing her rainbows and flashing lights. Assuming I survive being bait.

She knew the boys were there in the dark, waiting. But sitting on the drain next to the lifeless robot husks, she felt about as alone as she ever had. "Heeeeere brainy brainy brainy," she whispered. Her foot was cold. She mourned the loss of the frog slipper. "Alas, poor Kermit."

"This ain't gonna work if she goes nuts," a whisper drifted from the dark, followed by an annoyed shush.

Somewhere near her feet, something growled softly.

Her eyes widened, and she cleared her throat. "I'm just sitting here, minding my own business. It's a great day to be lunch for a monster brain thingy, lemme tell you."

A pink tendril slithered up over the edge of the drain. Slowly, the rest of the thing followed.

They'd hurt it at least. Ichor dripped from its side, and a few of the shark-like teeth had snapped off. But that didn't seem to faze it much. The jaws parted, revealing more rows of teeth, and this close, she could see the milky venom that dripped from them. The thing stank like rotting fish guts left out in the sun, and bile rose in her throat as a tentacle slithered up her leg. The damn thing was huge. How the hell had it even fit inside that robot's stomach?

Okay, guys. Any time now….

...please?

A sai flew through the air. The brain-thing screeched, but it didn't move fast enough. The sai pierced its tentacle, pinning it to the ground.

Not waiting for an engraved invitation, Irma rolled off the grate, splashing into the water that pooled at the base of the drain. As she toppled, Raph and Donnie were already leaping over her head, laying into the creature with weapons drawn.

Screaming, it ripped itself free of its pinned tentacle. Warm yellow blood spattered Irma as it came after her again, but the boys kept it from reaching her. The problem was, it was fast, slippery, and hard to kill. Their blows kept glancing off that seemingly-fragile side, or it would latch on to one or the other, stopping them from getting a clean hit. They weren't letting it go this time, unwilling to have to repeat the game of hide-and-seek all over again, but they couldn't kill it either, and from the sounds of it, she wasn't the only one who'd be nursing bites at the end of the day. If that thing kept biting until the venom in their systems got strong enough to take them down...

Her gaze swept frantically over the walls, desperate to find something to help. She was fairly certain that the small bear with the red ribbon standing on the walkway and waving to her was a byproduct of the venom, but the large box with the lightning bolt next to it probably wasn't. Gritting her teeth, she hauled herself to her feet and began dragging her way through the water toward the ladder on the far side.

By the time she made it to the top, her ankle was screaming in pain, and she'd thrown up once when the spinning in her head got too intense, but unless this was a really quality hallucination, the electrical box beneath her hands was very real. Shushing the bear's excited squeaking, she yanked it open.

Donnie was way better at the hardware side of tech than she was, but she knew enough about electrical basics to do this much. Doing it while the brain-monster-venom equivalent of three sheets to the wind was probably an incredibly stupid thing to do, but she didn't see much of a choice. It didn't take long to complete the setup, and she turned back toward the fight, her hand on the breaker switch.

"Hey, guys!" She shouted. "Clear!"

Donnie looked up at her, and his eyes widened before he gave her an understanding nod. "Raph, get this thing off me!"

"With pleasure," Raph growled, slashing at the tentacles wrapped around Donnie's arm.

The brain thing screeched, transferring its grip to Raph and sinking its teeth into his hand. But even as Raph howled, Donnie was swinging his bo. It hit the monster with a wet squelch, sending it flying to the puddles below. As soon as she heard the splash, Irma pulled on the master switch with all her strength.

Light brighter than day flooded the lair as power coursed through the cables she'd dropped into the water, sparks arcing through the monster and lighting it up like a gory fireworks display. In moments, the power box overloaded, plunging them into darkness again, but it was accompanied by a sizzling sound, and the smell of rotten calamari.

"Okay," Donnie conceded. "Maybe it is more of a squid. Now I'm hungry."

Irma giggled helplessly, unable to move from her slump against the wall. In a few moments, the light from Donnie's lamp fell over her as the two turtles staggered up the ladder and dropped down next to her.

"So," she said, looking from one to the other. "Did we win?"

"We won," Donnie confirmed. "Seriously, I could really go for Italian right now."

"I could eat some if it's not pasta," Irma said. "And if the room's not spinning."

"You did good," Raph said, punching her in the arm.

"Ow." She looked down. "What's that for?"

"For showing that having another brain around ain't such a bad thing."

"Just not that brain," Donnie said, pointing at the smouldering remains.

"No, definitely not that brain." Raph reached for Irma, frowning as his hands closed on air. He tried again, missing a few more times. "Hey. Hold still."

Irma, still motionless, glanced at Donnie. He rose to his feet and picked Irma up from beneath Raph's grasping hands. "Maybe you should let the one with the smallest amount of venom running through him handle the breakable human."

"Yeah, maybe." Raph staggered as he regained his feet, reaching out for the wall for support. "Let's go home."

Leo hadn't been expecting to find the lair empty. Surely, whatever errand Raph had pulled Donnie and Irma away on, it couldn't have taken as long as a train fight across half the city. Splinter had woken as they'd called for the others, and had been similarly baffled.

So when Raph and Donnie staggered through the door, carrying Irma, the three of them giggling like small children and looking like they'd just been to war, Leo thought he could be forgiven for yelling.

"Leo, " Raph protested. "We're practiaclly… practialicly… we're almost adults. We can handle ourselves."

"Yeah," Donnie said, stumbling on the carpet. With a hiss of alarm, Leo rescued Irma from his arms and dumped her on the couch. She already looked like she'd been beaten with a stick - she didn't need a three-hundred pound turtle falling on top of her to boot. "What Raph said." He glanced down at his arm. "I need disinfectant. Loooots of disinfectant." Looking up at the others, his gaze fell on April and he grinned. "Hey! I like your new follicular arrangement."

April ran her hand as best she could through the tangles left by the train chase. "Uh… thanks Donnie. You want to tell us what happened to you?"

"I'd like to know what happened to all of you," Vernon said from the doorway, surveying the room as if it were the scene of an accident. "O'Neil, you okay?"

"Yeah," she said, smiling. "Thanks to you."

"Well, these guys helped, I guess." Vern patted Leo's shoulder, his hand stilling as he spotted Irma. "Jeez, Langenstein. Did you get the number of the truck that hit you?"

Irma giggled. "Truck. Toot-toot!"

Vern raised a brow. "Is she drunk?"

"Nah." Donnie dropped down next to her with the first aid kit he'd retrieved. "Just a small adverse reaction to calamari brain venom."

"What?"

"Okay, okay," Leo said, rubbing his temples. "Everybody sit down and we'll go through everything from the beginning. Slowly. And without colour commentary."

"An excellent suggestion," Splinter said, looking disapprovingly at Raph, who appeared to be swatting at some kind of invisible bug around his head.

They spent the next hour getting each other up to speed. By the time they'd all finished, the venom had worked its way through Donnie's system and very nearly out of Raph's. Irma was still a little groggy, but less inclined to giggle as Donnie finished cleaning up the bites on her leg. She sipped slowly at the tea Splinter had made to soothe her throat, which was mottling with large purple bruises even as they talked. Vernon sat next to Irma, breaking off small pieces of the gluten-free rugelach April had picked up for her and handing them over, insisting that some food would help counter the effects of the venom.

"Okay," April sighed. She was on the floor next to Mikey, using his shell as a backrest. "So we went out looking for answers, and ended up more confused than ever. Does that about sum it up?"

"Pretty much," Leo said. "There's a connection we're missing somewhere, I can feel it. This is too convenient to be coincidence."

"I think you're right," April said, ignoring her phone as it buzzed. "It's there. But we're missing part of the puzzle."

Vern was looking at his own phone, and he straightened. "O'Neil," he said.

It was his tone that got her attention. Alarm spreading across her face, she dug out her own phone, and they watched her go pale as she read the text on the screen.

"April, child," Splinter urged gently. "What has happened?"

"Stockman's lab just blew up," she said quietly. "He's missing and presumed dead."

On the couch, Irma groaned, burying her head against Vern's shoulder. He stared at her in surprise for a moment before his arm went around her, gently patting her arm as Donnie took her free hand in silent comfort.

"So…" Mikey looked at the others. "What does that mean?"

"It means we probably have some breathing room," Leo said, folding his arms. "It means we regroup, reassess, find our missing connection, and take them down. Whatever's going on, it's big. We're only seeing the tip of the iceberg. We don't move until we know exactly what's waiting beneath the surface."

"Agreed," Splinter said, moving to stand next to his son. "Now, I think it is high time to savour the victory of tonight before we plan for the battles to come. I believe food is in order."

"Calamari," chorused Raph, Donnie, and Irma, followed by a fit of giggles.

With that, the sombre mood broke. Chatter swelled to fill the lair with warmth, and Leo stepped back to watch as Donnie and Irma regaled Mikey with increasingly grisly descriptions of the brain-thing, while Raph and Vern argued over which Italian place delivered closest to the sewers.

"Hey," said a soft voice at his elbow. He looked down at April as she rested a hand on his arm. "This is your victory celebration, too, you know. Don't you be hanging back here all night."

"Listen to her, my son," Splinter said from his other side. "She is very wise."

There was something big coming. Something he had to plan for if he was to keep his home, his family, and his city safe. But he was only fifteen years old, and unable to last beneath the dual force of his father and his hogosha. With a quiet laugh, he slung an arm around April's shoulder. "Okay, okay," he said, favouring Splinter with a grin. "You win."

They would have to face this thing on the horizon eventually. But when they did, it would be together. He would make sure of that.