Chapter Text
“That is a lot of pizza for two people to carry,” says April, eyeing the handwritten list critically. “Are you sure you don’t want me to drive you?”
“Yes, April, thank you, April,” Leonardo dutifully repeats for the fifth time that afternoon. “Please just focus on your work. I promise you, we are perfectly capable of handling a pizza run by ourselves.”
“Yeah,” Mikey chimes in. “We’re big boys.”
April grimaces, hesitates, fidgets. “I just…”
“It’s a slog, isn’t it.” Leonardo tries his hardest to scrounge up some sympathy. “But I’m sure the end is in sight now. Besides, you only have a few more hours before Casey comes over with June, anyway.”
April huffs a dramatic sigh, but she drops back into her seat, signaling her defeat. “Fine,” she mutters, more petulantly than Leonardo thinks is strictly warranted, but at least she pulls her laptop closer again and begins to half-heartedly flick through her paper notes.
Splinter’s return from the kitchen area with a freshly steaming mug of coffee provides the opening they have been waiting for. Leonardo shoots Mikey a quick glance when their father hands over the drink. Now or never, he mouths. Mikey nods, surprisingly biting back any further sarcastic commentary. As April is nearing the end of her thesis deadline, they’ve all been feeling her patience wearing thin these last weeks. Ostensibly, she has been holing up in the lair more often for a ‘stimulating change of scenery,’ but Leonardo is reaching the limit of how many cleaning sprees, complicated cookery attempts, and impromptu sparring sessions he can endure in a day. Even Donnie has kept the door to his lab firmly closed ever since lunch today, and Leonardo has the vague suspicion that after April’s last outburst, his brother may have bolted it.
Mikey mirrors his flinch when they hear the scrape of a chair behind them, both of them hastening their steps. “Layer up,” April calls after them. “Forecast says it’s in the lower twenties out there.”
“Yes, mom.” Mikey rolls his eyes, grinning when he hears April scoff. “Love you.”
“Whatever.” The chair scrapes again. But after a moment, they both hear her mutter, “Love you, too.”
They reach the front door without further incident, and Leonardo allows himself a sigh of relief. “Thank you for this,” he tells his brother while rifling through their disguises. “I can really use the distraction right now.”
Mikey rolls his eyes, grabbing his own favorite winter coat off the hook. “Dude, Usagi has been gone for barely more than a weekend. Are you pining that badly?”
“Shut up.” Leonardo slaps his brother’s arm, but he can’t help the bashful grin that spreads on his own face. “You marry the love of your life, see how you like being apart.”
Mikey sighs theatrically. “In my dreams, bro.”
Leonardo hesitates, arms halfway in his sleeves. He doesn’t want to get their outing off to a bad start, but he has been wondering. “Unrelated, have you heard from Angel recently?”
Instantly, Mikey’s expression grows thunderous. “Don’t you start with me,” he warns, voice uncharacteristically dark. “Unrelated, my shell.”
Leonardo grimaces, pretending to busy himself with his zipper. “Have you, though?”
“Last I heard, she is fine. ” Mikey pulls his scarf tighter than necessary, then buries his hands in his pockets. “It’s all suntan and swamp air, Florida. Nobody to get her into trouble. No Purple Dragons roaming around or anything.”
No mutated turtles, he doesn’t say, but Leonardo hears it anyway. Even almost a year later, he still isn’t sure exactly what happened between Angel and his brother that Christmas. They had been inseparable, just as before her move. Shell, they’d been cute, not that Leonardo would admit to that out loud. And then the holidays had ended, and for all intents and purposes, so had their friendship.
Leonardo knows, of course, that he has had his part to play in letting things get this stuck. He has a working phone, and for all the time he has been spending in Second Earth, he hasn’t forgotten how to send a text message. But there has always been something else to grab his attention, and then something else again, and suddenly, December has been and gone and he hasn’t heard from his friend in months beyond a perfunctory Christmas greeting.
Tonight, he decides. Get pizza, watch movie, text Angel.
Raph heads them off when they’re tying their laces, a towel draped over his shoulders. This close to the draft from the front doors, a thin layer of steam rises from his shower-warmed skin. He is all but radiating comfort, movements languid and easy. Leonardo already looks forward to his own shower later.
“You alright?” he asks over his shoulder, pulling the laces tight before he straightens up. Next to him, Mikey is hopping from foot to foot, testing his new winter boots.
Raph nods at the coat rack. “Want me to come?”
Leonardo considers it, but only briefly. “No, it’s fine. Stay where it’s warm. Besides, I promised Mike some me-time.”
“Yeah, you did.” Mikey is finally relenting and loosening his scarf. “Make your own Leo-rrangements, Raphie-boy.”
Raph opens his mouth, then seems to think better of it and merely contents himself with swatting his towel at their younger sibling. “Fine by me.” He shrugs past Mikey’s squealed protests. “It’s freezing out there, anyway. You plannin’ to grab any beer?”
“Don’t we still have some?” Leonardo goes through his pockets until he finds his wallet. “I’ve got ID, though. Just text me if you want anything in particular, and we’ll grab some if we can.”
“Cool. When’s dinner?”
“Map says it’s a two point five hour round trip on foot,” says Leonardo. Raph whistles through his teeth. “I know. But Mikey says the pizza is worth it.”
“It is,” Mikey confirms. “Here’s your hat, slowpoke.”
“Alright.” Raph yawns. “Hurry up, though. I’m hungry.”
“The Ancient One teaches that hunger sharpens the mind,” Leonardo deadpans. “You could always use the opportunity to meditate.”
Raphael’s eyes narrow for a moment, then a grin splits his face. “Shove off,” he says lovingly.
Behind them, April’s chair scrapes over the brick floor. Mikey’s eyes widen in something akin to fear.
“You both got your gloves?” she calls.
Raph lets out a guffaw when Mikey punches the release code into their door lock with lightning speed. Leonardo has enough goodwill left to wave his gloves in the air above his head, although he knows better than to turn around and actually look at their long-suffering sister. “Yes, April.”
“Thank you, April,” Mikey choruses, squeezing out into the sewers as soon as the gap is wide enough.
Leonardo stifles a laugh. “Bye, April! Bye, dad!”, he calls out, then he ducks out after his sibling.
It is indeed freezing outside. Even this far underground, the shallower puddles around them are covered in a thin film of ice that cracks under their boots as they pass though. Mikey, however, appears entirely unperturbed by the weather. Whatever his feelings about the whole Angel-situation, he seems to have shrugged them off and is chattering away as if nothing had happened. He seems keen to update Leonardo on any recent trends he has missed while spending time at their home on Second Earth - the latest cartoons he’s watched; some new song by some new artist Leonardo has never even heard of; developments in the video game industry he is having trouble following but is nodding along to, anyway. It’s nice, hearing what Mikey’s been up to. Leonardo knows that he’s been away a lot recently, splitting his time between New York and Old Edo. He misses out on more than he wants to. But Mikey makes sure to keep him up-to-date, even if he’s not always the best at differentiating in urgency between group chats and world news.
They aren’t really in a hurry, despite Raph’s grumbles, so Leonardo estimates they have been walking for the better part of ninety minutes when they finally approach the right part of town, and Mikey stops to orient himself. Truth is, despite Usagi’s absence, Leonardo is having a good time. It’s not really all that cold underground with the constantly churning water and heated pipes all around, and the exercise feels good after days cooped up with April and her papers.
“So what exactly made you pick this place?” he asks when Mikey resumes their walk. “Please don’t say it’s in a mall or something like that. I realize now I should have probably looked it up first.”
Mikey scoffs at him. “Oh, ye of little faith. Give me some credit, bro. It’s not in a mall. But it is new. Well, new for New York. Apparently, it’s all the rage in Arkansas. Minh told me about it.”
“I didn’t think there was such a thing as all the rage in Arkansas,” Leonardo muses, wracking his brain for whoever Mikey is referring to. “Wait, Minh from your Tabletop-RPG group?”
“You are allowed to say ‘DnD’ like a normal person,” Mikey informs him. “But I forgive you, because you remembered. Yeah, they swear by it.”
Leonardo holds his hands up in defense. “Alright, alright. So it’s not going to be crowded?”
Mikey pulls up his sleeve to glance at his watch. “Working crowd isn’t out yet, so we should be in the clear.”
“You’ve really thought about this, haven’t you,” says Leonardo, and Mikey’s eyes crinkle in response.
“Always prepared, me,” he agrees. “Now stop stalling and get climbing. This is the one.”
Leonardo dutifully scales the ladder his sibling indicates. He pauses for a moment, fingers pressed to the sewer hatch above, checking for obvious vibrations or footsteps. Nothing. He gives it an experimental push, and the metal circle lifts without effort. Nice to know that despite recent modernisation efforts of streets and sewage systems, of which Donnie never fails to keep him apprised, the city is still saving money on bolts. He lifts the hatch again, just wide enough to peek out, and gives it a full 360, tuning out Mikey’s groans below. Finally, he pushes his phone through the gap, using its mirrored surface to survey the walls ahead. He finds no windows, only vents and half-torn posters overlooking the dumpsters.
“Perfect,” he mutters, finally pushing the grate all the way to the side. “Alright, let’s go.”
Mikey follows him out of the manhole quick as a shot, excitement written on his face. Leonardo can’t help but grin in response. He follows his brother down the alley, into the street, making sure to pull his hat down and his scarf up before he rounds the corner. The air is noticeably colder than underground, but it is also pleasantly fresh by New York City standards. The sun has almost set already, but pedestrians are sparse. With their upturned coat collars and bulky outfits, they look just like everyone else trying to avoid the worst of the chill.
The pizza place is… nice. Unassuming, for a new chain. While it isn’t deserted, it also isn’t crowded, and the smell emanating from the ‘authentic brick ovens’ is intoxicating.
They make it to the counter, and Leonardo leaves Mikey to rattle through their list while he checks his phone for any last-minute requests from the rest of the family. Raph has sent a picture, holding a six-pack with one hand and giving a thumbs-up with the other. The gray finger covering part of the lens tells Leonardo that his father must have taken the shot, and he can’t help his grin as he tucks the phone back in his pocket.
“All good,” he confirms in response to Mikey’s questioning glance. “How much?”
They pay. They wait. They accept their pizzas, which come in promisingly bulky cardboard boxes. They leave. Steam curls into the cold night air, carrying the scent of melted cheese, and Mikey laughs when Leonardo’s stomach growls in response.
Once they have wrestled the boxes inside, Leonardo takes first turn with the insulated backpack. It’s cumbersome, but nobody likes microwaved pizza when they could have had it fresh, so it’s a necessary evil for the return trip. The sun is all but gone at this point, painting the streets in blue-black shadows, and the temperature is dropping measurably. Most of the apartments around them are still covered in late Christmas lights, twinkling in the semi-dark.
Leonardo takes a deep breath. New York City, he reflects, smells at its best when it’s frozen. It has this in common with every settlement in every universe he has ever visited. But when it all comes down to it, this place is the only one that’s his.
“Hey,” he says, calling Mikey’s attention. “Want to take the rooftops for a bit?”
“Sure.” Mikey instantly starts scanning the buildings around them for a suitable fire escape. “Fancy a bit more of a view on the way back?”
“I want to soak it all in while I’m able to,” Leonardo agrees. “Thanks, Mikey.”
A few stories up, the incessant assault of car horns, motorbikes and sirens fades to something approximating background noise. A few pigeons ruffle their feathers at their approach, but Leonardo can’t see any humans around, and the few windows that face this roof are flat and dark.
“Race ya?”
Leonardo scoffs, attention turning back to Mikey. “You will not! I am carrying, like, three metric tons of pizza here!”
Mikey shrugs, already falling into an easy trot. “Hey, whatever story will make you feel better when you lose.”
Leonardo laughs, can’t help it. He follows after his sibling, picking up speed as he goes. His shoes thump-thump-thump against the tarmac. The sun casts its last, liquid rays past the skyscrapers in the west, and the world is crisp and golden. Their laughter spills over as they race, jump, run just for the sake of running.
Yes, Leonardo has missed a lot recently. But today is the day he’ll catch up.