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“Four!” Raph yelled victoriously.
On the other side of the rooftop, Leo punched out a foot ninja and spared a moment to roll his eyes.
“Stay sharp!” He tried to say it as a warning rather than bark it as an order, but he could never quite manage it amidst a sea of enemy ninja. And even though he knew they could take care of themselves, those what-ifs in the back of his mind never quieted. Sensei said it was the mark of a strong leader. Raph said it was ‘fucking obnoxious’.
“HA! Seven!” Mikey screamed.
Leo and Don met gazes over the heads of a few ninja and neither of them could resist the smirk. Mike’s happiness has always been infectious that way.
Before making their attack, Mikey had looked sideways at Raph, grinned wickedly, and said “Bet I can one-hit KO more foots than you.”
Donnie opened his mouth to correct the grammar, paused, and snapped it shut just as quickly. He was…technically not wrong.
Raphael took the bait instantly—with an equally disconcerting grin. “You’re on, shell-for brains.”
Leo would usually be the last person in the world to encourage his brothers’ silly competitions, but for once, this one was working in their favor. Where their schemes usually erred toward dangerous and qualified firmly for irritating, this one had his brothers constantly shouting out their totals. This didn't just keep Leo assured that they were safe, but also that they were paying attention. He loved all of his brothers, would kill or die for any of them equally, but good grief were those two hard to keep on-task sometimes.
Out of nowhere, Mikey vaulted over Leo’s head. One nunchuck struck out with careful precision, whacking the foot ninja that Leo had under control, thanks. The ninja folded like a lawn chair, and Mikey stuck the landing.
“That doesn't count!” Raph, panting heavily, skidded to a stop beside his brothers. “Leo tenderized that one!”
Mikey put his hands on his hips, ‘chucks dangling loose. “Yeah, but I only hit him once.” A self satisfied grin followed.
Raph growled—not the real, threatening growl, the one he reserved just for Mikey. “I'll hit’cha once, come here!”
Leo stopped him short with a hand on his chest. “Boys, please—”
“Boys?!” They protested as one.
Leo sighed and let his head hang for a moment. He spun around and kicked a ninja square in the chest. He landed in a ventilation fan six yards away.
Mikey whooped. “One for Leo!”
Some turtles' brothers.
“I see you're all having—” Donnie grunted as he used the end of his staff to pick up a ninja, briefly bearing his full weight on that one point as he tossed the poor guy somewhere behind him. “ —fun over there, but could I get some help !”
“I got it!” Mikey shouted, literally jumping to his brother’s aid.
Leo did a survey of the rooftop. Some ninja made a hasty retreat while others stopped to peel comrades off the concrete. He scanned the skyline for anyone else waiting for them to drop their guard. Satisfied, he sheathed his katana and kicked back against the half wall around the edge of the roof to enjoy the show.
The three of them worked together like a well-oiled machine. Donnie wielded his bō like a baseball bat and lined up ninja for his brothers, clearly taking advantage of their wager. While it was a little disturbing that they laughed all the while, he was glad to see them working as a team and enjoying themselves.
His peaceful moment came to an abrupt end when Mikey screamed. Now, Mikey was prone to screaming but this one was different. It was bone-chilling.
Leo was at Mikey’s side before he even knew he was moving, grabbing the edge of Mikey’s shell and holding on tightly. Donnie and Raph ended the fight quickly; no more playing around.
He wasn't hurt. Thank shell he wasn't hurt. But he had a foot ninja cradled in his lap while he frantically searched for a pulse.
“Donnie—Donnie I can't—” Mikey’s words caught on a ragged breath as the aforementioned brother sank to his knees on the ninja’s other side.
Leo glanced over his shoulder to complete his headcount. Raphael stood a few feet away, gripping his sai too tight.
Donnie gently tugged the hood off the ninja's face, leaving only his eyes and top of his head covered, then bent over him to listen for breathing while simultaneously checking for a pulse. At the sight of the blood leaking from the ninja’s ears, Mikey audibly whimpered and tightened his grip on the man.
He was young. He was really, really young.
Donnie lifted the mask a bit more, pulling it up to briefly expose his eyes and forehead. When they all got a look at what was underneath, he quickly replaced it. His expression turned grim. With remorse in his eyes, he looked up and shook his head.
In a breath, Mikey collapsed in on himself. He bowed his head all the way to his knees, still gripping the dead ninja. In that position he trembled and struggled to draw breath, but he didn't cry.
Leo and Don pressed in on either side of him, squishing the babiest of their brothers into a tight embrace.
“They left him,” Raph muttered. “They…they just left him.”
Leo silently signaled for Raph to keep watch; they were sitting ducks out in the open like this.
After a long silence, Michelangelo let out a low, keening cry that rattled Leo’s chest. His heart dropped to his tailbone.
“What did I do to him?” Without raising his head, he reached out toward Donnie. “What did I do ?”
Donnie took his brother's hand and petted it soothingly. “You…his frontal bone is…broken. I think bone fragments pierced his brain.”
Fuck. His baby brother just shattered a person's skull.
Leo moved his hand from Mikey’s shell to his shoulder. He was covered in cold sweat and shaking like a leaf. He made eye contact with Donnie and mouthed, ‘ Shock? ”. He nodded.
Raphael grew antsy behind them, pacing back and forth. His heavy tread spoke to his silent anger.
Leo leaned down near Mikey’s face and kept his tone gentle and even. “Mikey, buddy, we gotta go now. They’ll be coming back.” They’ll come back, and you're in no shape to fight .
He doubled down on his grip, rocking back and forth. “No! I didn't—I didn't mean to Leo— I'm sorry, I’m sorry—” The tears finally broke out. Shuddering, gut-wrenching sobs that made Leo want to curl up beside him and cry, too.
“I know Mikey,” he murmured. “Raph, can you—?”
Raphael put his arms around Mike slowly, easing him up off the ground while Donnie facilitated the moving of the body. Leo just stood there, useless in the face of of Mikey’s anguish.
Halfway to standing, Mike suddenly locked his knees and whirled around. He sobbed, gagged a few times, and finally threw up. He went limp against Raph then, continuing to cry so hard that it choked him.
“Mikey, Mikey, you hafta take a breath. I can't understand ya, bro.”
He took a shaky breath and turned to Leo this time when he said, “We can't leave him.”
“They usually come back for their own when we leave,” Donnie said, putting his hand on his brother’s shell.
He stayed quiet for a long moment, sniffling and catching his breath. “What do they do with them?”
The question struck Leo like a knife. If it were any other local, family-run mafia or even a gang like the purple dragons, he’d say they go to next of kin. But Shredder didn't play by their rule book, the one with an honor code and respect for the dead. He wouldn't be surprised to learn that they just incinerated the bodies, uniform and all.
This ninja—this boy —was someone’s son. Did his parents know what he was up to? Would they ever know what became of him, that he died with honor? An image flashed before him of Master Splinter, aging and heartbroken and crying like Mikey in that very moment. The knife twisted in his chest.
Without another word, Leonardo knelt and lifted the fallen ninja. He wouldn't ask it of any of his brothers, so it fell to him.
“Raph, can you carry Mikey? We need to get out of here. Don, you bring up the rear and make sure we aren't followed. But don't stray too far.” Couldn't be too careful.
The two of them shook off the open shock and shifted into ninja mode. Raphael scooped Mikey up so gently, holding his head to his warm chest like he was just a turtle tot. Mikey, with his distant stare, didn't complain.
Don looked unsettled about the whole thing, but fell in step behind Raph as Leo took the lead. He felt like Mikey and Raph were too exposed back there, now more than ever he wanted eyes on them, but he wanted to be in the front if they ran into trouble. He could drop his passenger a lot faster than Raph.
Donnie signaled with a low whistle that the way was clear before Leo gently, awkwardly laid the foot on the pavements then slid the cover off their go-to sewer entrance.
“You okay bro?” Raph. Still uncharacteristically soft.
Mikey mumbled something noncommittal. Still, when Leo turned, he found him on his own two feet.
He intentionally placed himself between Mikey and the dead body. “You go on first.”
He took a step toward the manhole, hesitated, and veered toward Leo.
Leo braced to grab Mike in the split second he had to think about it, sure he was going toward the foot again. All he managed to do was bring their plastrons together with a dull clack as Mikey wrapped his arms around him as tightly as he could. His fingers just barely touched each other around Leo’s shell.
“Sorry bro,” he mumbled.
Once his brain caught up with the situation, Leo hugged him back just as tight. He could feel Donnie’s gaze from the fire escape above, still keeping watch, and from the corner of his eye he could tell Raph was damn near about to cry.
Feet hit the ground behind him, and Donnie joined in the hug. “It’s okay,” he murmured.
Raph got his arms around as much of his brothers as he could. “Yeah, ya ain't got nothing to be sorry for.”
Leo rested his cheek on Mikey’s head as all four of them pretended not to cry.
Sometimes he forgot how young they were.
There was a lot of debate over what to do with the body. Once Mikey had gone silently to his room, Donnie made them graphically aware of how quickly decomposition set in, especially in a humid and bacteria-ridden environment like theirs. They didn't have any way to keep it cold or preserve it, so they had to figure out something fast. Even as they spoke about it, the body lay across one of Don’s cleared work tables with a thin sheet over it.
Leo had to admit to Master Splinter that he didn't think through it before he brought the body along. The part that went unspoken was that Donatello and Raph himself would have done it too—anything to soothe Mikey in that moment. Raph was only surprised that Leo beat them to it.
Sensei wasn't angry, which didn't surprise them. He only ever got angry when the Shredder was somehow involved. But he was worried sick that they’d been followed or tracked somehow, so after the initial ruckus died down, he had Leo and Raph patrol the surrounding tunnels while Donnie searched the body for any tracking device.
For once, Leo didn't have anything to say to him as they walked the tunnels. He kept his eyes mostly on the grimy ground below them, though the hand around his katana kept clenching and relaxing. Something about holding those swords comforted him more than Raph would ever understand.
"He's gonna be okay, y'know."
Leo looked over at him as if he'd forgotten he was there. "Yeah. I know."
They walked a few paces.
"Yeah, you sound real sure."
"I didn't know he hadn't—that he hadn't killed anyone yet. I mean, that's a shell of a bandaid to rip off."
"Yeah, you're tellin' me."
Leo began actually watching where they were going, but his hands kept flexing and twitching. Raph recognized that; he wanted to hit something.
"Are you gonna be okay?"
He smiled humorlessly. "I'm fine, Raph." A pause. "The first time I killed someone, I was alone."
"What? When?" Raph demanded. It came out more aggressive than concerned.
"When we got split up, after Shredder nearly creamed our shells. A foot ninja spotted me, and I panicked. I didn't know where you guys were, and I knew I couldn't face Shredder alone..."
"So you killed him," he finished quietly.
Leo nodded. "I slashed his throat before he had a chance to yell."
"Geez, Leo, I had no idea."
He shrugged, like it was no big deal, but Raph could hear the strain in his voice as he spoke. That was still a raw wound.
Well, as long as they were trading touchy-feely stuff. "I...I feel bad. I shoulda known somethin' would happen taking that bet. You can only deal so many head wounds before one of em kills somebody."
"It's my responsibility to manage our behavior when we're topside. If I had seen a problem with it, I'd have stopped you."
"Hm. Guess the only real issue here is that none of us is psychic, huh?"
"Yeah, you really need to get on that Raph. Don't you know you're supposed to be the team mystic?" Leo bumped his shoulder into Raph's.
He let out a loud laugh. "That's rich! Comin' from Mr. Mystic himself, hah!"
When they were finally satisfied that they were safe, they cleaned and put away their weapons side by side, then Raph hit the showers to get rid of the sewer stink. He hurried so that Leo could do the same, but mostly because he was itching to check on Mikey.
He stopped by Master Splinter’s room before heading upstairs. He and Don were inside, sharing a pot of tea and a heavy silence.
“Mikey?”
“Still in his room,” Don replied. “He was sleeping last time I checked in.”
Raph nodded. With a brief bow to Master Splinter, he headed up to the second floor, straight to Mikey’s room.
He didn't knock before entering, just made sure to do it a little noisier than necessary. Mikey’s salvaged Silver Sentry lamp provided just enough light to see the lump of blankets up on the platform bed. He listened carefully for Mikey’s breathing for a moment, then pushed the door closed behind him. As if on cue, the blanket lump started trembling, and he could hear Mikey’s ragged breathing.
“Still here, knucklehead,” he said softly. There was no venom to it, he just couldn’t talk to Mikey anymore without calling him names. It felt wrong.
Mikey flipped over in bed and peeked just the top of his head out of the blankets. His eyes were bloodshot.
“Scoot over, I'm comin’ up.”
Mikey shuffled up to the wall until his shell touched it. Still, he and Raph only barely fit side-by-side.
Raphael folded his hands across his chest and stared at the posters on the ceiling. He hadn't thought about what he would say, just that he didn't want his bro to be alone. After a moment, Mikey shifted closer to rest his cheek against Raph’s shoulder. With a perfectly practiced air of carelessness, Raph put his cheek against the top of his head.
Not long ago, they’d shared beds like this every night. They didn't have their own rooms in the old lair, there simply weren't rooms to be had. As kids, the four of them slept in a nest of blankets and salvaged pillows or couch cushions. When they outgrew that, it was a queen sized mattress. And when they outgrew that , it became two queen-sizes, pressed beside each other in a corner. Being cold-blooded, they usually ended up more or less in a big warm puddle by morning, all leeching body heat off each other.
The privacy of having his own room was nice, but if there was a gun to his head, Raph would have to admit that he missed the closeness.
“You okay?”
Mike shrugged.
The silence lapsed over them again.
“That the first time you killed one?” Oh. Shell. He had not meant to say that.
To his credit, Mikey just nodded.
“Y’know…Sensei’s always sayin’ how it’s easy to kill a guy, ‘n way harder to just hurt ‘em.”
“I know I messed up,” he said thickly.
“That's not—ugh.” Raph grumbled to himself. Why was he so bad at this? “I just mean…we all know ya didn't mean it, Mikey. None of us are masters yet, no matter how bad Leo wants to be. It happens.”
“I killed him. Why are you so chill about that?”
“‘Cause you didn't do it to hurt him, you did it to protect Donnie . Think of it this way: nobody’s forcin’ these goons to do Shredder’s dirty work. They can walk away whenever they wanna, but they’re choosing to fight us. They gotta deal with the consequences, even if we didn't mean ‘em.”
Mikey thought on that for a long while. Raph was starting to think he’d nodded off when he spoke up again. “When did you…y’know?”
He hadn't had to answer that question yet. If he was being honest with himself, he’d probably killed a handful of people already. Maybe more than that. Sometimes he just got so angry , and taking it out on dirtbags doing wrong was always better than taking it out on his family. He justified it by saying they were no-good thugs, people who weren't contributing anything useful to society, but he knew too much to really buy into that shit. He grew up on Splinter’s spiritualism and mindfulness, he meditated, he was pretty sure he and his brothers had a supernatural ability to predict the others’ thoughts and needs during battle. But he still buried it under self-righteousness and didn't let it keep him up at night.
“Garbage Man,” he finally answered. “Some guy had a gun on Leo’s shell. I buried a sai in his heart down to the hilt. Couldn't eat for a couple days after that.”
Mikey squirmed a little. Raph didn't blame him.
“You’re the only one who hadn't yet.”
“Is Sensei mad?”
“You kiddin’? He's worried outta his mind. He probably knows just how bad it feels.”
“Is…is Leo mad?”
Raph softened. “No, Mikey, he ain't mad. He’s proud of ya.”
He snorted doubtfully. “I had a nuclear meltdown, bro.”
“Yeah. But you care . When me ‘n Leo killed the first time, we fuckin’ walked away, shit happens. But you stopped. Mikey you tried to save the guy for Pete's sake, we’re all proud of ya. You’re makin’ us look bad.”
He laughed. It was a little one, nothing like his usual boisterous laugh, but it was a start.
“And hey, I'm sorry. Shouldn't have taken that bet. No more bettin’ on hurting people, okay?”
“I can live with that.” He let out a long sigh and snuggled closer to Raph. His breathing had leveled out, and his heartbeat against Raph’s elbow was noticeably lower too. “Will you stay here?”
Raph pulled his arm away from his side and tucked his bicep under Mikey’s head, making himself into a pillow/teddy bear combination. “Sure thing bro.”
“Thanks,” he mumbled. In minutes, he was asleep.
The next morning, an interesting story hit the news. The body of a young man in black, dead for at least twelve hours, was found on the back door of an unnamed NYPD precinct with no identification on him. There was a note pinned to his shirt that said only ‘ it was an accident ’. He was identified shortly after a description began to circulate, and buried by his parents and sister shortly thereafter.
No killer was ever found.