Chapter Text
“Okay, my sons. It is time,”
Despite his hushed tone, Splinter’s voice swelled with importance as he turned to face his charges. The maroon hoodie he had scrounged up fanned around him almost comically as he moved, speaking to the fact that it was clearly designed with someone much taller than he in mind. Even so, there was still an air of confidence and gravitas to his manner – this was not the first time that he had stood before an audience, nor, if he had anything to say about it, would it be his last. “As you know, this is an important mission. I am aware that you have been through this before, but it still remains pertinent that you remember the rules. Recite them for me, please.”
Three of the four hooded figures before him immediately straightened to attention, their voices also hushed but still quivering with excitement.
“Pay attention!”
“Stay close!”
“No talking!”
…
The last response, rather than being delivered with confidence, was replaced with silence punctuated by the steady drip drip drip of a leaky pipe above them and the droning rumble of cars in the distance. Tiny rivulets of water streamed from a crack in the metal tube directly over their heads, running together and condensing into a single droplet that swelled and drooped under its own weight before silently dropping into a puddle of its brethren at their feet.
The pause dragged on for a few more seconds, and Splinter couldn’t help but roll his eyes upwards in a silent plea for patience as he sighed. “Michelangelo?”
“Oh!” The last and smallest figure in line immediately stood up straight, his focus snapping away from the growing puddle and turning towards his father. “Stick to the shadows!” The young turtle scrunched up his snout and leapt forward, landing on one foot and raising his arms into the air as an attempt at an action pose. “Like ninjas – HA!”
The gesture might have been threatening, were it not coming from an eight year old in an orange hoodie. However, it definitely sufficed to distract those around him. The three other turtles giggled, their concentration broken as they immediately began hopping around and striking their own grand poses. “Yeah – ninjas! Like Lou Jitsu!”
Splinter blinked slowly, a small smile teasing at his lips despite himself. “Right… like ninjas. If ninjas were loud and unfocused.”
That caught their attention. All four turtles immediately fumbled to a stop and forced serious expressions onto their round faces. “Sorry, Dad.”
“Hm.” The rat hummed, his gaze moving over the boys one last time before nodding. “Alright, let us go.”
***
Even with his years of training, Splinter still couldn’t help but be impressed by the relative ease with which he was able to lift manhole covers. Perhaps there were a few advantages to this new form - however, now was not the time for him to crow over his abilities.
Tonight was a gathering night.
Still holding the cover a few inches above him, Splinter peered around the alleyway. His ears rotated atop his head, listening for any sign of danger before he finally pushed himself up and out of the pipe. Once he was on solid ground, the rat sniffed the air and nodded slowly. This would be a good spot for the night.
Green dumpsters lined the gap between Eastman’s Donuts and Laird Apartments, each giving off a variety of odors that ranged in levels of pleasantness. The alleyway he’d chosen tonight was one they frequented due to its abundance of cover and wide variety of resources. He always made sure to schedule their gathering nights shortly after garbage day, so that any food placed in the bins would still be relatively fresh and untouched by whatever else was dumped in with it. Years of gatherings told him that the dumpsters on the opposite side of either building tended to be less fruitful, but both alleyways held Salvation Army drop boxes that sometimes held clothing or other small items that could be repurposed for their needs.
“You may come out, boys. Silently.”
To their credit, his sons were decent at following commands when needed. One at a time, the four boys peeped their heads out of the drain and then scrambled over the edge.
Raphael led the way, his shell bumping against either side of the pipe as he pulled himself through. Even at eight years old, his biggest son stood slightly taller than his father and was showing signs of growing every day. Splinter was already dreading the day that they would have to change gathering routes in order to find manholes covers more accommodating of his size – that, or he would have to risk leaving his tenderhearted son alone at the lair during missions. The latter idea already hurt to think of.
Donatello and Leonardo were next, somehow managing to hold a silent shoving match as they ascended the ladder and attempted to pull themselves out of the ground. His purple son eventually emerged victorious, scrambling to his feet a few seconds ahead of his brother and immediately ducking behind Raph to smile smugly. Leo stuck his tongue out in protest and opened his mouth as if to say something, only to catch a warning glance from his father and snap it shut once more.
Michelangelo was the last one out of the sewer, clambering up the ladder with ease and bouncing excitedly next to his brothers as Splinter pushed the grate back into place. When he turned back around, the rat nodded in approval at the way the other boys had closed rank around their brother, making an unspoken shield. Despite the fact that the turtles were all the same age – or at least, had mutated on the same day – Mikey remained the smallest of the turtles and therefore held the honorary title of baby brother. While he hoped the boy wouldn’t one day grow to be resentful of the fact, Splinter was grateful to have three extra sets of eyes trained on the actions of his most distractible son.
Speaking of eyes – Splinter turned towards the mouth of the alley and took several steps forward. The four boys stumbled after him, small hands brushing his tail and the edge of his hoodie as a guide. His vision nowadays was not what it used to be – a trait he could only assume was a result of his transformation – so he had come to rely heavily on scent and color when moving about. Nevertheless, his ability to navigate in the dark remained the strongest of the small band of creatures he now called family.
Once he was completely satisfied that they would not be seen, Splinter reached into the pocket of his jacket and withdrew a small bundle of meshy fabric. After a moment of unwinding, he distributed a small reusable bag to each of his sons and jerked his head at the bins. “Red, I will need you to hold a bag for me while I look in the larger bins.” Raphael swelled with pride, and Splinter then turned to his three smaller sons. “You three, go ahead and start gathering. Remember to not eat anything you find until I have had a chance to look it over.”
The boys all nodded obediently as they set about their tasks.
***
“Check this out!” Leo whispered excitedly, drawing his brothers’ attention from their searching. Their scavenging through the cardboard boxes at the edge of the alley hadn’t been particularly fruitful so far – only a few unopened fortune cookies from someone’s takeout and a half-crushed box of crackers. Mikey could feel his stomach grumbling in protest as he rocked backwards on his knees and squinted in the direction of Leo’s voice.
“What’s’it? Something good?”
“Yeah – a remote! See?” The blue-clad turtle shuffled closer on his knees and held out a small rectangular object in his hand. “And it still has batteries in it – I think I can use the recharger we found last time to juice them back up!”
“Oh, cool!” Donnie leaned forward until his head almost bumped into Mikey’s, causing the box turtle to scooch back to allow him a better vantage. “I needed some batteries for my flashlight!”
He reached for the remote expectantly, only for Leo to hurriedly stuff the item into his tote bag and shuffle away. “No way – finder’s keeper’s!”
The soft shelled turtle scowled and reached out again. “Dad said finder’s keeper’s is only for toys and stuff – we have to share tools!”
“Well, then this is my toy.”
“A remote isn’t a – “
“Guyssss I’m hungryyyy. Let’s just go back to looking!”
“Boys!”
The three turtles’ mouths snapped shut, eyes flickering towards the area where Splinter and Raph were and then back towards each other. They waited for a moment, half-expecting to be berated for being too loud, and then heaved identical sighs when no lecturing came.
“Really guys, I’m hungry,” Mikey whispered as he dramatically dropped his head onto Leo’s shoulder. “My tumbus wants food.”
The red-eared slider patted his youngest brother’s head sympathetically, and then gently pushed him off. “Me too. Let’s keep looking. Maybe we can find something good, like… like pizza!”
Mikey could feel liquid immediately rushing to his mouth at the thought of pizza. “Mmm, yeah! A whole entire pizza!”
“As if someone would throw out a whole pizza,” Donnie scoffed as he turned back towards his pile and started searching again. “It’s too expensive.”
Leo rolled his eyes. “Oh yeah? And what do you know about money?”
“More than you.”
“Nuh-uh!”
“Yuh-huh.”
“Nuh-uh!”
“Yuh-huh.”
And with that they were off again, attention set on each other as they continued to whisper-argue. Mikey sighed. Sometimes he swore those two were twins, what with how much they bickered with each other. Dad had said it was impossible due to their difference in species, but that didn’t stop Mikey from imagining his middle two brothers holding a shoving match even from within whatever egg they had hatched from.
Mmm… Eggs.
The small turtle shook his head as his stomach growled once more. Nope, can’t be thinking about food right now. Gotta keep searching. Gotta not think about yummy scrambled eggs or hot, tasty pizza with cheese that stretched off the crust whenever he bit into it. Can’t think about the intoxicating aroma of tomatoes and spices and mushrooms that was so good he could almost taste it -
Wait.
Mikey sniffed the air.
That smell wasn’t just in his imagination – he was actually smelling pizza!
Scrambling to his feet, Mikey closed his eyes in concentration and focused on the scent. He slowly turned on his heels, inhaling deeply and trying to zero in on the source of the wonderful aroma until he faced the direction it seemed to be coming from. When he finally opened his eyes, the turtle felt his heart drop.
The mouth of the alley loomed before him like a sideways set of open jaws, warning him not to step out onto the sidewalk lest they chomp down and never let him go. Dad had warned them never to venture past the alley’s boundaries, where they were cradled in shadows and safe from any wandering eyes that happened to turn in their direction. And yet the smell of pizza and other good things drifted from just around the corner like a siren’s song, calling him out into the open.
Surely it couldn’t hurt to just lean out and grab the food, then duck back to his family? Mikey could already imagine the proud look on his father’s face as he returned with a whole box of hot food – a rare delicacy in their family. Certainly he would forgive his son for going just a tinnyyyyy bit further than he was supposed to if it meant being able to feed everyone for the night, right?
Glancing back at his family to ensure that their attentions were elsewhere, Mikey stepped closer to the edge of the shadows and listened. He could hear young humans’ voices chattering and laughing in the distance, and the ground vibrated slightly as an occasional car rumbled down the next street over. Taking a deep breath, Mikey poked his head out of the alley and allowed the tip of his nose to be lit up by the towering street lights. The boy hesitated, half expecting to hear Donnie or one of his other family members hissing for him to come back, and then looked to his left.
A row of hedges lined the front of the apartment building they were next to, and served as one of the few natural sources of green on the heavily brown and red bricked street. Mikey could almost imagine the scent trails winding through the leaves of the bushes and down the alley on the opposite side of the building. Maybe he could just sneak through those bushes and around the corner without even stepping onto the sidewalk- so technically he would still be staying in the shadows. Like a ninja.
Before he had a chance to change his mind, Mikey darted around the corner and cleared the small gap between the edge of the building and the first of the bushes in a single leap. The leaves closed around him like a protective cocoon as he ducked into the foliage, shielding him from the street lamps’ lights and serving as the perfect tunnel to crawl through on hands and knees towards the smell. He hesitated for a moment when he reached a slab of concrete that created a gap in the foliage – the front porch that served as the building’s entrance. This opening as a bit more nerve-wracking than the initial dive into the bushes had been, because there he had at least had the option of turning back.
Mikey glanced over his shoulder and back through the bushes, listening. Splinter had still made no sign of noticing that his youngest was missing. He guessed it was now or never.
The young turtle scrambled forward, fighting the urge to yelp as the front porch light fully illuminated his body, and then threw himself the remaining few feet back into the cover of the bushes. His arms trembled with nerves as he collapsed onto his still aching stomach, and he lay motionless for a moment until he could catch his breath again. Ok, ok. Still safe. His knee stung a bit from where he’d apparently scraped it on the concrete, but other than that he was in one piece.
Better yet, the smell of pizza was almost overwhelming at this point.
Swallowing the drool that threatened to escape his mouth, Mikey pulled himself back onto his hands and knees and closed the distance between himself and where the edge of the bushes met the mouth of the next alleyway. He heaved a small sigh of relief as he could finally emerge from the bushes and dive into the dark alley – safety.
The small turtle’s legs shook like jelly beneath him as he plastered himself against a shadow drenched wall and tried to calm his frantically beating heart. It was odd to think that his family was just on the other side of this building, maybe three or four dozen yards away, and yet it felt as if he had just crawled a mile and was now utterly alone. Mikey shivered at the thought. Okay, so maybe this hadn’t been as great of an idea as he had initially thought. But it was all going to be over in just a second – all he needed to do was grab the pizza and then crawl back through the bushes. Problem solved!
Lifting his nose again, Mikey crept towards one of the closest bins – a large green dumpster with the lid propped up against the wall of the apartment. The smell of hot pizza was nearly overwhelming, and Mikey felt another shiver run through his body as he imagined biting into the cheesy goodness. Who in the world would throw away such an amazing thing?
But… how to get to it?
Raph and Splinter usually had to work together to get the rat high enough that he could lean over the edge of the bin and toss things out. And while Mikey was a good climber, he already knew he wouldn’t be able to scramble up the vertical metal wall without help.
Glancing around, Mikey’s eyes zeroed in on several cardboard boxes like the ones he and his brothers had been looking through in the other alley. Maybe if he stacked those together… yes, perfect!
With a smile of determination, the small turtle set to work creating a staircase along the side of the massive trashcan and then scrambled up to the top. It wasn’t the perfect height, but if he stood on his tiptoes from here he could peer over the edge of the bin.
“Whoa,” he whispered as he pulled himself up to the lip, “This thing is enormous!”
Sure enough, the trash can was about six feet long – nearly triple his height – and almost as tall. A few trash bags lined the bottom of the bin, the plastic on some drawn so tight that they threatened to burst and spill their contents into the rest of the garbage. Several brown glass bottles littered the top of the bags, clearly thrown in by a drunken passerby rather than bagged up safely. But in the center of it all, perched atop a particularly large bag of trash, was the pizza box.
Mikey couldn’t help but let out an excited giggle. Based on the smell and where it sat, someone had to have just thrown the box in a few minutes ago – how in the world had he gotten so lucky? Now he just had to reach it.
Using his arms, the turtle pulled himself up on to the edge of the trash can and balanced on his plastron as he leaned forward to reach. His right arm stretched out into the air above the bin, grasping for his prize while his kicking legs served as a counterbalance.
“Almost…. Come on…” Pursing his lips, Mikey waved his stubby arm in the direction of the box. Nope. Not working. He rocked sideways to switch arms and then extended the left one in a second attempt. His fingers brushed the tip of the cardboard, and Mikey felt a grin stretch across his face. “Almost… almost…”
Then, as if suddenly taunting him, the box slipped and slid out of his reach. Mikey yelped in frustration and lunged forward, fingers outstretched –
-only to find himself falling head over heels.
The child squawked in surprise as he tumbled forward, arms pinwheeling as he attempted to grab the edge of the can and keep himself from falling into the veritable abyss, but gravity was not on his side. The turtle fell heavily, arms barely coming up to shield his face as he dropped like a stone and faceplanted into several swollen black trash bags.
Immediately he went into panic mode, his arms flailing for purchase on the shifting floor. Mikey struggled to push himself up onto his elbows and looked around his new surroundings in fear. “Oh no, oh no, oh no, oh no,”
His heart pounded against his ribs as the turtle rolled onto his back and attempted to clamber to his feet, only to succeed in slipping and sliding on the slick plastic until something sharp bit into the bottom of his foot.
All goals of remaining quiet were forgotten as Mikey yelped and leapt backwards from the broken glass, his shell hitting the back of the bin and causing a loud, warping echo to rattle through the metal. Then, as if things couldn’t get any worse, the lid wobbled on its hinges and slammed down, plunging the turtle into perfect darkness.
“HELP!”