Akumas & Yōkai

“First off, don’t drink underage. Second, what the hell?”

Those were the first thing Claire said to him once he was cleaned up and situated in her home. It had been a mix of the full keg, the overuse of his senses, his brothers, and then the driving, that had done it for him.

It had been too much all at once, and yet, he had been able to get himself here, so, a win was a win in his book.

“Sorry,” he apologized, his head still spinning as she pressed a cup and two pills in his hand. Something to help with the headache and nausea, probably. She was a nurse, after all. Or at least attempting to be.

“Why are you here? Was it just to show off your lack of ability to hold down a drink?”

He chuckled at that. “More so, my lack of ability to hold down a whole barrel’s worth. You’re right, by the way, about the underage stuff. Just a stupid bet.”

“A stupid bet gets you stupid killed,” she shot back. “But that doesn’t answer my question. What are you doing here? It’s been months since the mugging. I just assumed you had a different nurse or something.”

“Or something,” he agreed, taking the medication and washing out the taste of fermented barley. Despite the party being hosted by Elektra’s sorority, it was their partner frat that had been in charge of the alcohol this time. Nothing top shelf, and he far as he could tell. Although, once one was drunk enough, you didn’t mind the taste.

But when it came to his hands a month prior, he had just wrapped up himself, snuck out and made up an alibie's at Fogwell’s then lied to Splinter when he pressed. Only Leo knew about the mugging, and if the others knew anything, they hadn’t said anything about it.

“So?” She pressed again, looking for answers. “Look, I clean up enough puke at school to quite enjoy the lack of it at home. You, however, broke that streak, so the least you could do is talk to me.”

“What would you define me as?” Matt said quickly, his words tumbling into one another.

It didn't answer any of her questions, but Claire hadn't seemed to mind. She simply sat back in her chair and studied him. The question had caught both of them off guard, and it showed. “I don’t know you that well, but I’m assuming you’re not looking for the word hero here.”

Matt shook his head as he bowed it. He still wore the bandana, and she didn’t ask him to remove it.

“Well, you’re a kid, right?”

He glanced up, “How old are you?”

“Old enough to buy my own liquor,” she mused, before correcting herself. “I’m twenty-one.”

“And you live alone?”

“My roommate is at work, so you’re lucky, chango. ”

Matt smiled at her. “I’m eighteen. My…friend says I carry too much.”

“Eighteen-year-olds shouldn’t be out hunting down the bad guys,” she said softly. So she agreed with Foggy. Great.

“But my other…er… friend , she does the same thing. Or at least I think she does.”

Claire rolled her shoulders, “I’m guessing that this “friend” is more than that. Are you trying to impress her? Because, and take it from me, girls don’t actually like the whole faking it thing.”

“It’s not fake,” Matt defended, “I…I have to do this. I have to help where I can because who else will?”

Claire frowned, “Have to is a pretty heavy concept. I don’t have to go to medical school, but I choose to. I don’t have to live here, but I can afford the rent. You don’t have to be anything you don’t want to be, PJs.”

Matt stood up, his annoyance seeping through his skin like vapor. But the action made his whole head throb, and he found himself lunging forward instead, catching himself on her, now broken, coffee table.

When Matt came to, he was laying down in a bed, the makeshift mask now gone and replaced with a cool rag. He took in his surroundings before the panic was able to seep in. The room was not his own, but he recognized one of the two heart beats in another room. He tried focusing on the words that the two bodies exchanged, but the very motion made his headache worse. 

Instead, he reached over for the water and medication graciously left for him on the bedside.

Claire had been nice enough before, after he threw up, to give him an oversized shirt that had belonged to some long forgotten ex. Although it didn’t smell long forgotten.

Once his bearings returned, he got up and made his way towards Claire’s heart beat, stopping in the door frame when the two women stopped talking to glance his way.

“Stop underage drinking,” Claire scored, waving a spatula his way. 

“I’ll buy you a new table,” Matt promised.

“Good. Now sit, Mike .” 

Matt balked, but did as he was told. She placed a plate in front of him, and the aroma of sulfur made him almost puke again. 

“It’s a good hangover meal,” the other woman promised. “Claire’s been making them for us for years.”

Matt smiled as he bit into the toast, “I thought you didn’t drink underage.”

Claire shrugged, “I’m a hypocrite. Now eat .”

So Matt ate.

“I’m Karen,” the other girl said, “I’m Claire’s partner. She said you two went to school together?”

Matt nodded. “High school. I was a freshman when she was a senior.” Lying was easy. “We did mock trial together.”

“You didn’t tell me you did mock trial!” Karen gasped at Claire.

“Only my last year. Just for some extra credits to graduate. I wasn’t any good. Mike, here, was the best at it. What was that thing you told Kyle to do? When he got into that wreck?

She was testing him, throwing his own lie back at him. He wasn’t sure why, but he had made it this far. “I told him to plead no contest. Especially if you’re in a wreck where insurance is involved. Even if it is your fault, you never want to admit it, or their insurance company will try to get more out of you than is needed. Pleading no contest or “nolo contendere” means that you accept the conviction but avoid a factual admission of guilt.”

Karen sat back and laughed, “Even hungover, you’re pretty smart. I should’ve called you when I got that ticket last spring. Although, Claire didn’t share you with me yet.”

“In my defense, he showed up unannounced last night.”

Karen made a noise in the back of her throat. “Well now that sleeping beauty here is awake, I’m gonna take a shower. See you later, Mike.”

Karen then pressed a peck on Claire’s cheek, and Matt pretended he didn’t see by burying his face in his breakfast. “Your roommate is in love with you,” he said once Karen was gone.

“I’m in love with my roommate,” Claire replied, moving to sit across from him. “So, Pjs , either you hit your head extra hard on my floor or you’ve been blind. I’m hoping it’s the latter because I do not need that on my conscious.”

“You told Karen my name was Mike. You lied to her.”

Claire grunted, “newsflash, vigilante boy, you never actually told me your name.”

“You removed my mask,” he countered.

“You lose all rights to privacy when you pass out in a nurse’s living room.”

“A nurse in school,” Matt tried again, earning a swift kick from under the table. “Ow!”

The woman raised a brow and leaned back in her chair, “So, PJs, you’re a masked vigilante whose eighteen and in pre-law, I’m guessing?”

Matt grunted, finishing off breakfast.

“You asked me last night what I thought you were. I think you’re stupid. You haven’t been doing this long, and already you’re passing out in strangers' homes due to non-vigilante related events. You’re reckless and doing it all for the wrong reasons. You’re going to get yourself killed.”

“What did you tell Karen when you got mugged?”

“Nothing,” she pressed, “she doesn’t know about you. Other than you’re "sightseeing Mike".”

He nodded, standing up. “Thank you for your hospitality, Claire. I’ll come by later with money to buy you guys a new table. Then you’ll never see me again.”

She reached up and grabbed his arm, “Nuh uh, that is so not happening. If you keep playing hero, then you’ll keep dropping by. I don’t want to find you as a John Doe in the hospital, understood.”

“I’ll be careful,” he pulled his arm back.

“PJs,” she pressed, standing up. She was only a few inches shorter than him, but it was still intimidating. “You will bring your ass back to this apartment the next time you’re hurt, and you’ll stop drinking. Or I will hunt you down, I swear. You're not the only make shift hero I've had to baby.”

Matt gulped.

“Good,” she moved around the kitchen, throwing something at him. “You got rid of the foot, now get yourself an actual costume.”

Splinter was in a mood when Matt finally made his way back to home. Although he lived there for so long, it was weird calling it that now, especially since he had moved out a few months back. Maybe the turtles were right, maybe he had neglected this place for too long.

But listening to Splinter lecture them didn’t cause him to miss it for long.

“Irreresposible!” He heard the old man yell. “Dangerous. Insane. Do you know what’s out there? Who is out there? You could’ve been killed or kidnapped or…or…”

“Taken in for alien experimentation,” Matt smiled, trying to ease the tension. He had already given them an earful the night before and believed that they had gotten the point. “Or kidnapped for a ninja army and forced into servitude by an ancient ninja master.”

Splinter glared at him. “Yellow, you’re back.”

“As if I had never left,” Matt smiled.

Splinter patted Matt’s stomach, the only part he could really reach without Matt crouching, and sighed. “You were always so well-behaved. Your father did a good job.”

Matt frowned, “only because you helped carry the load. Don’t forget that. I know these four knuckleheads didn’t mean anything by it. Just wanted a little adventure.”

“We’re sorry, Pops,” Raph said earnestly.

“We’ll never do it again!” Leo promised, though Matt could already tell that it wasn’t true, even without listening to his heart beat.

It would happen again, they were growing up, and they no longer had Matt to come and share the world with them. Sure, they had April, but she was their age, and so her adventures could have just as easily been their adventures too. If only they were allowed to go to school, like normal kids.

When Matt was little, he used to believe that the boys were actually kids like him who just happened to be mutated into turtles. That the radiation that turned human into rat had done the same things for them. But Splinter was adamant that it wasn’t the case. That they were, and forever would be, turtles.

Younger Matt never thought it was fair.

Older Matt now knew that fairness came at a price.

“You’re all grounded,” Splinter declared. “No April, no TV, and no phone calls.”

“What!” The boys chimed together. 

Matt winced, “Splinter, that’s punishing me too, and I didn’t do anything.”

Splinter thought for a moment. “You’re right, Yellow. I guess I’ll have to come up with a different punishment.”

The boys groaned, but Matt could tell that the return of Matt’s calls was a Hail Mary for them. “If I may,” Matt began, still a bit annoyed at his brothers. “While I did already express my sincere disappointment in your actions last night, I do agree that I have been a little bit more than distant with you guys.”

There was a tension that built in the room, and Matt did everything not to break it. “I know that being stuck here isn’t fun. And I know Colmbia seems to be. I promise you, it is not. Last night was a casual get-together with friends. Which also happened to include Elektra, who, I know, I should have told you about. I just didn’t want to get your hopes up if it didn’t work out. I remember how devastated you all were when she moved away.”

The boys were silent before Donnie raised his hand, “is she your girlfriend ?” He said the word as if it was the most disgusting thing ever. 

Matt laughed, despite himself, “something like that, D.”

“Gross.”

“Girls have cooties,” Leo chimed in, “‘cept April because she’s April.”

“Boys,” Splinter warned. “I thought your friend left .” Now it was Splinter’s turn to sound disgusted. Matt remembered being so secretive about Elektra and Stick in his youth. But if Stick knew about Hamato Yoshi, then Splinter probably knew about…Stick.

That could not be his real name.

“She’s attending the same college as me,” Matt explained. “International business.”

Splinter grunted, as if the answer were only half true.

“Is that where you were last night? With her?” Leo smirked. He was trying to get Matt in trouble.

“No. I mean, yes, at the party, but after wards I went to…Clarence’s house.”

“Clarence.”

“Yes, Mikey, Clarence. I don’t talk about him. Similar to Elektra. My friend.”

The boys gave him a look, but Matt ignored them. “Splinter, I’m headed back here next week for Thanksgiving break. We still on at the O’Neils?”

“Not if these four keep sneaking out,” he concluded. “It’ll be good to have you back, Yellow, if even just for a week. We miss you.”

“Me too,” he lied.

Midterms flew by and before Matt knew it, Foggy and him were packing for a week away from the dorms. Matt had made good on his word to Claire and hadn’t drunk a single drop of liquor, even when it was Elektra’s quality stuff.

They were almost off of campus, Foggy was helping hold Matt up because it had snowed the previous night and his friend was concerned for his well-being, when someone practically tackled them.

They tumbled into a snowbank, which was just as hard as Matt had anticipated, their bags skimming away on the ice. “Oh, shoot,” a voice rang out, “I am so sorry about that. I lost my balance and, boom.”

Matt’s head was spinning, but he would recognize that voice anywhere. “No problem, Professor O’Neil.”

“Matty! Oh, my god! Let me help you up.” the woman reached down and yanked him up, almost toppling over backwards in the process. Luckily, Foggy had guessed that would be the case and placed a steady hand on the low of her back.

“What are you boys still doing here? Break started yesterday.”

Foggy blushed, the heat from his face essentially melting off any of the snow. Foggy’s sister’s, the youngest of the five, and the gayest, Theo’s, flight got canceled due to the storm, and he hadn’t wanted to go to his dad’s without her. There was some unresolved tension between them ever since Edward Nelson found out that he would be following in Rosalind Sharpe’s, Foggy’s mom's, footsteps and become a lawyer. That was the reason for their divorce, Foggy had explained, his mom’s career, although Matt was sure he didn’t actually believe it. 

His step-mom was also pregnant, which made Foggy even more wary to head home alone. Even though Foggy was the youngest of the family, because he was the only male, Edward had placed some unrealistic expectations on the kid. Expectations that he would immediately shift to the new baby if they were a boy.

“We wanted to wait out the storm,” Matt lied, “but we underestimate the conditions.”

Professor O’Neil, Carol O’Neil, frowned. “Well, that won’t do. Where are you headed?” This question was directed at Foggy, who was currently paying with his hair. That was also a topic of debate in the patriarchal home of the Nelson’s. His mom loved the long hair, but his dad was more weary. Said that the appearance would send the wrong message.

“Oh,” Foggy jumped when he realized she was talking to him. “I…home?”

Carol laughed, “you sure about that? Matty, introduce me to your friend. I’m sure I already know because the boys tell April who, in turn, tell Bobby and myself.”

Matt nodded, reaching out and took Foggy’s extended arm. “Professor O’Neil, this is Foggy Nelson, my roommate. Fogs, this is Professor Carol O’Neil, she teaches Black Feminism and Sociology of Race and Ethnicity here on campus. She’s my brothers’ best friend’s mom.”

Foggy glanced between the two before a smile engulfed his face. “Dude! You didn’t tell me you were a nepo baby!”

“That’s not the definition,” Matt rolled his eyes, his own smile stretching.

“Well, Mr. Nelson, it is lovely to meet you. Are you pre-law like our Matty here?”

Foggy nodded, “totally. Matty and I have a majority of the same classes. Only difference is that he’s minoring in Spanish, and I’ve recently declared Punjabi.”

She gave him a surprised look, “well, Mr. Nelson, good on you.”

Matt leaned in so that only his friend could hear him when he whispered, “to chase a girl.” Foggy stiffened a laugh and shrugged the young adult off of him.

“Well, I feel awful for bumping into you like that. I was in such a hurry myself to get home,” she waved a hand, as if to clear away the rest of her response. “I’ll give you both a ride, the least I could do.”

Foggy tried to exchange a look with Matt before he corrected himself. “I don’t want to put you out of your way, Professor.”

“Nonsense. Plane, Mr. Nelson?”

“Apartment, Ma’am, Hell’s Kitchen?”

“Of course, and Matty, I know where you live. I’ll just pick up April at the same time as dropping you off. How does that sound?”

“Sounds great, Professor O’Neil.”

She waved her hand again, “enough of that. It’s break. Carol will do just fine.”

The drive consisted of Carol asking both boys the routine mom questions. How were classes going? Midterms? Any girls?

Good. Great. Yes.

This then led her to conduct a deep dive interrogation into the women in both of their lives, and by the time Foggy finished explaining his Punjabi plan, they were in front of his apartment.

“You okay?” Matt whispered from the back seat. He had never been to Foggy’s dad’s place before, but it seemed like a vague memory to him. The apartment sat above the Nelson Deli, a deli that Matt had never made the connection to before. If he thought hard enough about it, he could picture walking there with his dad to buy fresh steak. It only happened when his dad won big, but it was always treated like a holiday.

The butcher, Edward Nelson, had only yelled at Jack once, when he was trying to negotiate down prices.

The wharf of meats made Matt almost envious of the luxury Foggy grew up with, before he remembered the way his friend’s heart beat quickened as they slowed to a stop.

“Of course,” Foggy lied. “Thanks, Professor. Maybe you’ll see me in one of your classes one day.”

“It was nice meeting you,” Carol smiled. “I’m glad I ran into you.”

As Foggy opened the door to leave, Matt lunged forward and grabbed his friend’s arm. “You can come to dinner if you want. I’ll call you.”

Foggy placed his hand over Matt’s, a soft smile encasing his face. “Thanks, man. I’ll let you know.”

Carol and Matt waited until Foggy was inside before driving off. Carol made a soft sound before finally speaking up. “You’re a good friend, Matt.”

“I’m sorry. I know that inviting Foggy meant inviting him over to your house, since you already invited us. I shouldn’t have overstepped.”

Carol was quiet for a second before clearing her throat. “Matt, do you know why Bobby and I invite your family over every holiday?”

Matt shook his head, playing with a loose thread on his jeans. 

“We wanted April to grow up with a large family. We couldn’t have more kids after April for a majority of reasons, and neither of us have a strong connection with our own families.” Matt leaned in as the older woman grew quieter. “But then she met you and your brothers, and she wouldn’t stop talking about your family. Then you were the only ones who would show up when she had birthday parties, and we realized that she needed your family.

“I don’t know Mr. Nelson or his upbringing, but if you think an invitation into our home will help, then I’m glad that you offered it.”

Matt swallowed hand, his hands subtly shaking. “I didn’t realize no one was coming. I just assumed she was only inviting my brothers.”

Carol took in a deep breath, as if steadying herself. “April is a unique girl, and others do not appreciate her enough. I am her mother and I watched her struggle so much in school. She is so smart and brilliant, and yet, the kids who were deemed popular thought that good grades were nerdy. They ostracized her at such a young age. I would take her to the park so that she would socialize with children her age. Your family is so special, Matty, as I’m sure you already know.

“You’re welcoming where others are cruel. You make people feel comfortable, and you make them feel like they belong. You, Matthew, are so kind. So, thank you.”

Matt was quiet. This was the second time in such a short span that someone had listed off his good qualities, presented them to him of a silver platter. “What if I wasn’t kind? What if I was still angry about things? Held resentment?”

He didn’t mean to voice the question, it had just slipped out.

Figures, he felt comfortable around mother figures. Caretakers. He had to watch his dad play both roles simultaneously. He had to watch Splinter struggle and pick up where he accidentally lacked.

At the end of the day, Matt just wanted his mom.

Though he never voiced the desire before.

“But you are kind,” Carol pressed. “I watch you time and time again put others needs before your own, or seek out the needs of others, that maybe neither of you are aware of. That is what makes a kind person, Matt, their actions.”

The rest of the ride was silent. Carol didn’t press anymore and allowed the calming voice of Mavis Staples to fill the space.

“Oh, this is my favorite one,” the older woman finally spoke up after a few songs cycled through. Matt pressed his head to the cool glass as the world passed him by, relating far more than he meant to with the grieving woman as she sang about homes and chairs.

April met them outside the empty apartment complex, just as she always did when her parents picked her up. She almost mirrored her mother when she wrapped herself around Matt’s middle, just about topling the both of them into the snow banks. Matt, fortunately, caught himself this time, and hugged the pre-teen back.

“Well, Daredevil, are you up to any of your antics while you’re home?” She made a gesture with her fingers, as if they were devil horns on her head. 

Matt groaned, but carried a smile as he did so. “How much did Nardo tell you?”

“Oh, that blue boy told me everything. He was even brainstorming some names, and let me tell you, we’re just going to leave that to the professionals,”

“Oh, really?” Matt crossed his arms over his chest and bent his torso so that he was eye level with the girl. “And what makes you a professional?”

“Puh-lease, DD, you know me.”

He laughed, straightening up as Carol finished up her conversation with Splinter. “I do know you, kid. Oh, before I forget, I invited another friend for dinner. Your mom said it was cool, but just wanted to let you know.”

April practically jumped with joy. “Ooooh! I can’t wait to meet your girlfriend!”

Matt frowned. The thought of Elektra hadn’t even crossed his mind. Was she going to hang out with Stick? Matt couldn’t even fathom that man doing anything remotely warm, or Elektra with a traditional American thanksgiving in front of her. He could however picture her on some Caribbean beach in a bikini sipping some exotic drink, giving him a look. “Matthew,” she’d say.

“Hello! Earth to DD,” April called out, waving a hand in front of his face.

Matt gently grabbed it and raised a brow behind his glasses. “I’m blind, kiddo, doesn’t really work like that.”

She huffed, rolling her eyes at him. “So do we get a girl added to this testosterone party or not?”

Matt shook his head again, readjusting his bag on his shoulder. “Sorry, Apes, another boy. He’s my roommate. Tense family sitch. You get that?”

April nodded, “Yeah, double D, I get that.”

The eighteen-year-old winced at the nickname, but Carol placed a comforting hand on his shoulder and pulled him into a hug. “Great seeing you, Matty. See you Thursday.”

“Thanks, Carol,” Matt hugged her back. “Thanks for the ride.”

“Anytime,” she squeezed his arm, “and, hey, if you ever want to hang out on campus or get any academic advice, my door is always open. For you and your roommate.”

“I’ll let him know,” Matt promised.

When they were gone, Splinter came up and placed a hand on Matt before the two headed back to the sewers. Splinter rarely left the sewers anymore, going to Matt’s college was the last time he went further than the faux home. Matt always thought that it must’ve been hard to go from a rather handsome television personnel to a literal mutated rat. He didn’t believe that Splinter did it out of pride or narcissism, but something deeper. 

“We should do a dojo check soon,” Matt offered. It had been years since Splinter brought Matt to one of the old Lou Jitsu Dojos. It had been mainly for Matt to see one of the places his father used to train.

Splinter had always been open about what him and Jack had been up to in their youth. Before Matt. Before Hamato Yoshi was Lou Jitsu. There were still a few gaps and holes in Splinter’s stories, from possible embarrassment and guilt, but Matt had never worried about them too much. He knew who Jack Murdock was, and nothing anyone could tell him could change that.

Jack was imperfect, like all parents were, but he did his best, and his best was enough for Matt.

Splinter was quiet, moving around the tunnels. “I think it would be best if we placed that behind us, Yellow.”

"What do you mean?" Matt pressed, "you love that place. It's practically what you've been teaching me and the boys."

Splinter shook his head. "Things changed, Yellow. People run it who are less than kind. Nothing for us to get ourselves into."

“I’m sorry about the boys,” Matt tried. “If I had known they would have-”

“This isn’t your fault, Yellow. They, including you, are my responsibility. I should have been more aware of them.”

“Yes, but-”

“No more discussion. It was nice of Carol to help you out today,” he changed topics. “We should have Orange find a recipe for dinner to bring.”

And so Matt didn’t bring it up again.

“Why are we here?” Elektra asked. 

Here was currently the rooftop of the adjacent building from Lou Jitsu School of Ninjutsu. 

“Observing.”

“You’re blind, Matthew,” she joked, leaning into him. She had dressed for the weather in the most Elektra way possible. She was decked out in leather, which Matt was sure was real, and her hair was pinned up in a tight bun at the base of her neck. When Matt asked for the color of her jacket, she laughed and told him red.

Red to Matt meant Raph. It symbolized strength and gentleness. A recognition of just how strong one could be, but hesitation to ensure that people felt comfortable.

Matt wasn’t sure if Red meant Elektra yet, but he was running out of mental colors.

Elektra bumped his shoulder. “Well?”

“I think there’s some illegal activity out of this place.”

“Out of your sensei’s former corporate chain dojo?”

“He’s not my-whatever, he owns the company still, but each store is owned by managers. This one is owned by a man named Big Louie.”

Elektra huffed, “sounds like a crime boss if I ever heard one.”

“I just need proof.”

Elektra stood up and stretched. “Why? Let’s just get the man. We know where he is, obviously. And this means a lot to you.”

“Elektra,” Matt said, exasperated. “That’s not how the law works. We need some solid evidence to place him behind bars for good.”

She rolled her eyes and sighed, “So he can pin it on someone less important than him? Matthew, there is only one way to deal with vermin like him, and it isn’t through your precious law.”

Matt swallowed as he stood up, and began staring her down. “I hope you’re not suggesting what I think you’re suggesting."

She took a step forward, filling the space between them. “What am I suggesting, Matthew?”

He held her at arm’s length. “We are not killing him. Or anybody for that matter. I don’t care what Stick has taught you, but it’s wrong, Elektra. It’s…it’s…”

“Evil? Cruel? Depraved? Immoral? Do you need a thesaurus, Matthew? Am I a monster for really suggesting we pull out the roots instead of trimming the corruption, hoping it corrects itself? Are you really naive enough to believe that men like him won’t find ways around the system? That he still won’t hurt people from behind bars.”

“Call me optimistic.”

“I call you foolish.”

Matt threw his arms up, “is this about your stupid war again? What war are we fighting, El? How can you fight fire with fire? You can’t, it just burns the whole world down with it.”

Elektra took a step back as she shook her head in disbelief. “You don’t understand, Matthew.” Her words were soft, as if he had just broken her heart. Then she turned and jumped off of the roof.

Matt ran to the edge and followed her heart beat as she maneuvered her way down fire escapes and walls, before walking down the street, leaving Matt alone shivering as snow began to fall.

Big Louie hadn’t done anything, and Elektra wasn’t returning his calls, so he stopped staking out the dojo all together. Somehow he felt like he had messed it all up again. Like this was the bracelet incident and Stick would hide her away again.

His gloominess must’ve been apparent because his brothers kept encouraging him to play with them. To do things that they used to do before college. And some new things too.

Vigilante things.

“No,” Matt shook his head when Leo suggested it.

The Mad Dogs, which included April, had cornered Matt while he was reading another Jane Austin book. 

“But it could be so much fun,” Leo complained loudly, practically lounging out over his eldest brother. Matt gave the ten-year-old a small shove. 

“And it could be extremely dangerous. No.”

“But we know how to fight!” Mikey chimed in. “We’ve watched enough Jupiter Jim and Lou Jitsu films to know how to fight these big baddies.”

Matt put his head in his hands. “You’re eight years old, Angelo. You’re all way too young to be ‘crime fighting’, and I’m not a crime fighter either. I was just some guy who was at the right place at the right time.”

“If you’re not a crime fighter, then why did you have a mask?” April countered. 

Twelve-year-olds really were the worst.

“Because I’m hiding the fact that I’m blind?” he offered, as if it were obvious. “Not many blind men can do backflips and dodge bullets.”

“They shot at you?” Raph asked, a little too excitedly.

Matt frowned, “No. But my point still stands.”

“You follow a moral code, do you not, Matthew?” Donnie asked. He had really grown into his shell in the last six years, speaking up more, as well as being more articulate than them all. “A good ‘catholic boy’ if you will. Wouldn’t it be in your catholic conscious to use your gifts to help others.”

“I don’t think God intended me to bash in people’s heads when he made me blind, Don, but nice try.”

“Who said anything about bashing?” The brother returned innocently. “Unconscious, sure, but bashed? No way.”

They all were the worst.

Matt closed his book loudly and stood up. “Alright, conversation done. Mikey, where’s that recipe?”

“But Matt,” Leo grabbed his arm, “we haven’t even begun to discuss catchphrases or names.”

Matt shook his brother off, “because there won’t be any of that. It was a one time deal, and I’m sorry that I did it.”

None of them bought that. “So we’re suppose’ to believe that you would rather that poor woman be robbed?” Raph asked, arms tight over his chest, “I ain’t buyin’ it. Any of you guys buyin’ that?”

“Nope.”

“Nuh uh.”

“In your dreams.”

“Not at all.”

Matt ran a hand over his face, feeling both thirty and twelve all at once.

“No, I wouldn’t want Claire to be robbed. But I also don’t want to encourage violence, or you five to begin forming thoughts of grandeur. It was a one time deal. No more than that.”

“Alright, Daredevil, you keep telling yourself that,” April smirked.

“Oh!” the youngest turtle shot up. “What if we call you The Turtle Titan!”

“Thanks for inviting me,” Foggy said as the two young men walked back to the O’Neil’s apartment. Matt had left the dinner to let the other boy inside the building and escort him upstairs. “You don’t know what it’s like to have thanksgiving dinner with your fifty-year-old dad’s twenty-something pregnant wife.”

Matt shuddered, “no, and hopefully my dad doesn’t do that anytime soon.”

Foggy stopped. “Can he do that?”

Matt gave him a confused look, “do what?”

“Have kids?” His eyes went wide, and he moved forward, as if trying to catch his words, “I just mean because all of you guys are adopted, and you said you never had a mom, so I just assumed. Ugh, ignore me, dude.”

Matt thought for a moment, pondering what Foggy said. “I’m the only adopted one.”

Foggy blinked. “What?”

“Yeah, the boys are all genetically linked to our dad. Come’on, the food will get cold.” He continued down the hall, as Foggy stayed in his own personal funk, before jogging to catch up.

“Other than awkward dinners with women you went to high school with, how has your break been?”

Foggy gave him a shrug. “Fine, I guess. It’s Hell’s Kitchen and cold, so there have been more break-ins recently. Dad’s worried someone is going to break into the Deli. He’s getting up there in age, and so he was really hoping that I’d take it over by now.”

Matt frowned. Neither Jack nor Splinter were like that. They each believed that destinies were meant to be carved out solely by the person they affected. But Matt knew something about bad dads, or at least, his two closest friends were affected by such actions.

While Foggy had the strength to rebel against his father, did Elektra? Foggy had sisters and a supportive mother, what did she have? Him? He hadn’t really been keen on Stick’s teachings, but did he have to act like such a dick to her about it? It was probably all that she knew.

“Sorry, man, that sounds like it sucks.”

Foggy offered up a half-hearted shrug. “It’s whatever, dude. At least he’s helping me financially. He could’ve cut me off when I left the family business, but he didn’t. Have to look for the positive stuff, right?”

“Still,” Matt tried, “you shouldn’t have to bargain for his attention. You deserve more than that.”

Heat went to Foggy’s face, and he ducked his head, as if he was trying to hide from the blind boy. That was one of the reasons Matt loved his roommate so much. He treated Matt like a normal person. Held his arm to lead him through crowds, and then duck his head in embarrassment when he said something funny. He truly was one of the best.

Matt opened up the door and gestured for Foggy to enter. Dinner had started an hour prior, but everyone was still eating when they returned.

“Frog man!” Mikey cheered, mouth still full of food.

“Mikey,” Foggy gave him a high five. “Heard you made scrambled eggs all by yourself. Without permission, perhaps, but who can really stop a true chef?”

Mikey beamed with joy as Carol helped Matt back into his seat.

This was the only thing he disliked about eating over at the O’Neil's, he had to pretend that he didn’t have a radar in his head. That he couldn’t see the bowl of mashed potatoes in front of him and instead had to ask for someone to guide his hand to it.

It wasn’t helplessness as it was more an inconvenience and, if he was being honest, a tad bit exhausting. He had to constantly remind himself that he was to behave a certain way, despite his family being right there. Part of Matt wondered if he had grown up at the orphanage if this had been second nature to him, rather than what it was.

“I’m Bobby,” April’s dad introduced himself as he made the effort to shake Foggy’s extended hand. “And this is my beautiful and talented daughter, April.”

“Dad,” April complained. “You don’t need to introduce me like that every time .”

“But it’s true,” Bobby beamed, “you are both beautiful and talented.”

Matt gave a small laugh as he listened to the typical O’Neil-Hamato banter. For the next hour, it slipped into that perfect harmony. Foggy fit in as if he was a missing puzzel piece, as Matt knew he would, and began to break into elaborate details about age appropriate college stories and tales from his youth. He had made the effort in the last three months to curse less, and it showed.

The boys were engulfed in his stories to the point Leo began openly campaigning Splinter to adopt them some older sisters like Foggy’s.

“What am I? Chopped liver?” April chimed in.

After dinner, they played a modified game of charades, where instead of acting out the movie, the person had to explain the plot. The team that was able to guess the plot in the fewest words won.

April always designated herself as Matt’s reader, but with Foggy there, they gave him the job.

It blew Foggy away when Matt was able to explain the plot of Moana in seven words, and even more surprised when Mikey got it.

“Girl with rock travels with bigger rock.”

At the end of the night, Matt’s team won 9 to 6.

“Did you drive here?” Matt asked as he began to walk Foggy out. The boys and Splinter were heading home, but Matt offered to drop off some food to other friends while the night was still young.

“Walked. With the help of public transportation, of course.”

“Of course. Hey, man, thanks for coming out, I know that the O’Neils loved you. Especially April. She won’t tell you this because she’s hoping I bring more women around, but you may be one of her favorite people.”

Foggy was quiet for a moment, his heart beat a little quicker than normal. Matt had grown accustomed to his steady rhythm, and actually missed it while spending the holiday break at the lair.

“I’m going to hug you now,” was all Foggy said before he wrapped his arms around Matt. Matt’s face was pressed in the crook of Foggy’s neck, the ends of his blonde hair getting in his mouth, but Matt didn’t mind. Foggy smelled like home, in the way Fogwell’s did. A familiar and comforting scent, that made Matt wonder how the rest of the world did it. How they went through life without knowing every scent to a t.

When they pulled apart, Foggy’s face was stained with tears. “You really are a good person, Matt,” the older boy said. “Thanks.”

Matt cleared his throat, finding it suddenly dry. “Thanks, Fogs. You too.”

Foggy patted his arm, “I’ll see you Sunday back home. Don’t be a stranger.”

Matt nodded before realizing what Foggy said, and then shook his head in an awkward response. “Right, no, would never dream it.”

Foggy gave one his token Foggy laughs and then turned and left back the way he came, and for some reason, Matt already missed him.

The rest of the semester went by in a breeze. New York did what New York did best, and hit them with snow storm after snow storm. Matt, who had grown up scaling buildings to get to school faster than the city bus, knew how to navigate the icy terrain quite well. But Matt, who was blind by everyone’s accounts, was given extra accommodations. One of those accommodations was his own personal guide for the day, which just so happened to be from a rotation of women from Elektra’s sorority. Foggy, who had almost every class with Matt, wasn’t complaining when the women flirted with him, knowing that Matt was already taken.

After their fight on the roof, things had been bumpy, but Elektra had been the one to apologize, and so Matt chalked it up to a difference of opinion. Huge difference of opinion, but he couldn’t blame her for having such a shit dad.

When Matt thought of Stick or Mr. Nelson, he grew rather thankful of Splinter taking him in all over again.

Finials, for Matt at least, were a breeze. Foggy, on the other hand, was struggling with Punjabi.

Then they had to part ways again, which, unfortunately, was worse than Thanksgiving. Foggy was flying back to Ohio to spend the holidays with his mom and some of his sisters. Matt was just thankful that Foggy was getting away from his dad for a few weeks, but that didn’t change the fact that he would still miss his best friend.

Foggy was just a down to earth good dude, even if Matt thought he was a pot head when they first met.

They exchanged gifts, Foggy going above and beyond and getting gifts for not only the boys, but April too, and promised each other not to open them before Christmas.

“I know that she celebrates Kwanzaa, but I just saw it while shopping and thought she might like it.”

Matt’s smile grew wide. Foggy was better than him in every way.

“Thanks, man.”

“Don’t be a stranger,” he echoed his Thanksgiving command. “Call me. Facetime me. I’m sure my nephews and nieces would get a kick out of you and the boys. And I know that facetime means nothing to you, but I want to see that beautiful mug of yours.”

Matt ducked his head and chuckled, “I’ll try. Donnie is more of the tech guy than me.”

A finial tight hug and he was gone.

Without Carol O’Neil, Matt was able to get home through his own means. Which could easily be translated to Matt stupidly jumping from icy rooftop to icy rooftop, attempting not to slip and fall to his death. He was completing this feat quite successfully when his radar hearing picked up something he promised himself he wouldn’t care about - a crime.

A robbery. It was still pretty early in the morning, and the shop wasn’t particularly in a high traffic area, making it a pretty good target to rob in the daylight. That is, if there wasn’t a radioactivity charged eighteen-year-old listening in.

“No, get back!” the shop owner cried. “What do you want?”

Matt stilled a few blocks away, trying to pinpoint exactly where the shop was. He shouldn’t engage, but how was he not supposed to when it sounded like someone might get hurt? How was his catholic conscious supposed to go on knowing he could have at least tried ?

“Just your truck,” a gritty voice replied.

“And the lil orphan aliens.”

So, that’s what this was about. 

According to Michaelangelo, the lil orphan aliens were the hottest toys on the market and therefore the hardest to obtain. Matt had asked why someone would even want that toy, when Raph pointed out that in someways Matt was an orphan alien to the Mad Dogs.

Touché. 

“You can’t steal this truck,” the owner was standing up to the goons, which could either be seen as quite brave or extremely stupid. Depending on how this went down would determine that result. “This whole lot of Lil’ Orphan Aliens is being donated to the Brown Street Children’s Home. Have a heart, will you? It’s Christmas.”

“And that’s why we’re giving ourselves this truck. It’s our Christmas present,” the first goon replied before a shot rang out.

Extremely stupid.

And Matt had been too slow.

He pushed himself to parkour across the apartment buildings as he tied his scarf around his head. Claire was right, this was a stupid costume, but even if he had one, would he have the time to change into it?

The truck was speeding off, discussions of internet selling and gambling as it did. The owner was crouched between his partially ajar front door.

“Sir,” Matt landed next to him, scaring the older man all over again. “I heard gun fire, are you alright?”

Matt began to assess him through his radar senses, but other than being scared to death, he seemed fine.

“They took the truck,” the man complained as Matt’s hands searched for any wounds, coming up short.

“I heard, but right now that comes second to your health.”

“No!” The man grabbed Matt’s upper arm, “I don’t know who you are, but I do know that those kids need those toys. Please. I’m fine. Damn kid missed.”

The shop owner was right about that, the shooter hadn’t even gotten near the man. The shop’s window being shot out seemed to be the only real damage the goons did.

“Call the police,” Matt commanded, returning to his feet. “I’m going to get the truck.”

The man gave him a perplexed look. “And what are you going to do about it?”

Matt gave him a wide, insane smile. As if this part of the hero work was the most fun. Without replying, Matt began to scale the shop, returning to the rooftops, and raced after the truck. Luckily for Matt, the goons were anything but subtle.

“They’re probably stealing toys all over town,” he said to himself. “Meaning that if I follow them, they’ll lead me back to their base of operations.”

The idea was pretty foolproof, despite the fact that it would essentially just be Matt against a whole crew, and without any weapons.

He mulled this over as he caught up with the truck. They wouldn’t be able to really move any of the merchandise any time soon, so if Matt gathered some reconnaissance, he could double back with his own crew.

As if he had a crew.

No way was he going to subject his brothers to gunfire, and Elektra...? If he called her, she’d probably come running, but would she escalate the fight based on Stick’s teachings? He couldn’t risk that.

After an hour of following, the truck pulled into an alley way behind some shops. Shops that Matt recognized from his previous retcons. The Lou Jitsu School of Ninjutsu, managed by Big Louie. 

“Got you,” Matt smirked. The school was still closed this early in the day, or maybe it too was on holiday break, but despite that, it was buzzing with goons. Goons with guns and trigger fingers. He frowned as he listened as the truck was unloaded added into a back stock of other stolen goods.

This required a team of people, not just Matt. But he was pretty empty in that department.

Despite that, he pulled out his phone and dialed a number he had never called before.

“Hey, Claire,” he started, “it’s Mike. I have a favor to ask you…”

The ‘backup’ Claire had sent came walking down the street as casually as possible. A man and a woman, maybe a few years older than Matt himself. The man was big and wore a simple t-shirt and jeans, as if the cold were a mere suggestion. The woman, on the other hand, was wearing what every New Yorker wore in the cold, a jacket and scarf.

“Claire said he was around here,” the man said.

“I still can’t believe you agreed to this,” the woman rolled her eyes.

“It’s Christmas, babe.”

“It's a week before Christmas,” she corrected.

“Christmas season,” he amended.

“And all the orphans at Brown’s Children’s Home thank you,” Matt snuck up behind them.

The couple jumped as they twisted around. The woman kicked out in self-defense, but Matt easily dodged. He raised his hands in mock surrender, glancing between the two, which, to them, looked exactly like a man with a scarf tied around his head twisting his head between the two of them.

“Did Claire send you?”

“You’re Mike?” the man demanded, sounding like he didn’t believe what he was seeing.

“In a way, yeah. Now, are you going to try kicking me again, or are we good?”

The man gave the woman a look until she eased up. “Fine,” she reluctantly agreed, “I won’t try and kill Claire’s friend. Not yet anyway.”

“All I can ask,” Matt smiled. “Step into my office.” And with that he raced back up the fire escape, showing off just a tad. When the two finally made it up, he was sure he had set the woman off again.

“Sweet Christmas,” the man muttered, “you do this for a living?”

Matt opened his mouth to respond when the woman beat him to it. “It’s all part of the gig. Highest vantage point and all that.”

Matt tilted his head, “you’re vigilantes?”

The man laughed as he collected himself. “Kind of? Well, I am, in a way. Jess here is a private eye.”

Jess glared Matt’s way. “That’s Jessica to you, asshole.”

Matt sent her a small smile before turning to the man, “and what might I call you?”

The man extended a hand, which Matt took graciously. “Luke Cage.”

“Harlem,” Matt said simply. “So you really are a hero.”

The man shrugged, “I don’t think doing the right thing should automatically qualify you as a hero.”

“I’ll give an amen to that,” Matt smiled, taking a step back. “So, did Claire fill you in?”

“Take down the cooperation, low casualties, save the toys, everyone wins,” Luke crossed his arms.

“Well, except the assholes who stole in the first place,” Jessica corrected, doing her best to sound disinterested, but her heart beat betrayed her. 

“Right-o, babe.”

Matt’s own heart panged in a mix of guilt and envy. He missed Elektra.

Instead of wasting time thinking of what-ifs, Matt explained exactly what they were up against, and the three made plans of the best way to take them all down.

“And no destroying the building,” Matt warned. “This means a lot to the man who owns this place.”

“No promises,” Jessica promised.

Matt sighed, but understood. It was inevitable when going up against armed goons. He’s heard his brother’s own reenactments of action films before. 

Once the plan was formulated, the three snuck back down the fire escape. “You look like an asshole,” Jessica told him, gesturing to the scarf as they moved across the street.

“Secret identity,” he replied.

“Right,” she rolled her eyes, “because I’m going to take one look at your ugly face and be able to place you instantly.”

Matt smirked. “Who knows, maybe I’m a billionaire playboy who’s been on magazine covers.”

“A billionaire would have a better fashion sense,” she pointed out. And then for good measure added, “asshole.”

Oh, Matt and her were going to be best friends.

“Quit bickering, you two,” Luke hissed. “Mike, you gonna start climbing?”

Matt nodded, flipping off Jessica before he began his climb up the side of the school, balancing as best he could on the roof.  The ventilation shaft had been easier to get into than he had originally anticipated, though it was burning hot from the warm air. Breathing became hard, but the college freshman pushed on, gracefully climbing out in one of the empty side classrooms. He quickly picked out some billy clubs, similar to the ones Splinter had given him years prior, before sneaking out to meet the others. 

The back of the dojo was buzzing with activity, but the actual school part was deserted, making opening the side door rather easy.

“You know how to use those?” Jessica questioned.

“As if they’re my own limbs,” he offered as an answer.

“I’ll believe it when I see it.”

“Sweet Christmas,” Luke groaned, moving past them.

The three made their way to the back as Matt relayed where all the goons were situated. Neither of his new allies questioned this intel, as they clambered through.

Despite being out numbered, they were able to make quick work of the men. Luke, being bulletproof, took most of the hits while Jessica threw heavy boxes at them. Matt, on the other hand, took out the men through quick strikes, throwing one of his clubs at Big Louie as he tried to run off, knocking him out instantly.

“Well, that was easy,” Jessica shrugged, picking up one of the dolls. “They’re kind of cute. You know, if you like that sort of thing.”

“They’ve been at this since Halloween,” Matt informed them. “Stealing large loads of goods and moving them out from here. The police should be able to find the evidence they need for a strong conviction once they arrive.”

“Too bad they’re gonna take these lil guys in as evidence. They’ll never get to the children if that happens. Not in a timely manner, anyway,” Luke pointed out.

Matt agreed. He may only have a semester under his belt, but he knew just how dragged out the whole process was. His dad’s own investigation lasted months before going cold with a lack of leads.

“I don’t think they’d miss a truck,” Matt said slowly. “Not if we bring it back to the store they came from. No one would be the wiser.”

Jessica tossed one of the dolls his way, which Matt caught with ease. “I like your thinking, asshole.”

So, asshole was endearing then.

He would not be offering that up as a superhero identity, however.

In the end, Luke drove the truck, not trusting Matt with the scarf still covering his eyes, and Jessica said she didn’t like big machinery.

The shop owner was more than thrilled at this new development and asked the three if they wanted to come and drop the toys off with him.

“Sorry, sir, heroism doesn’t take breaks,” Matt said lamely.

Jessica and Luke gave him a look till the shop owner was gone.

“This was your first big gig, huh?” Luke laughed.

“You are so lame,” Jessica threw her hands up. “I can’t believe I wasted my morning helping someone so lame.”

Matt chuckled, happy to have some new friends.

“You’re late, Matthew,” is all Leo said when he snuck in, well into the night. Matt had ended up returning back to Claire’s with the other two in tow. Karen was at work, and so her girlfriend didn’t have to sneak the three vigilantes in. Apparently, Claire was used to this sort of behavior. She had met Luke first in Harlem and he had brought Jessica over for some patch work. Since then, they had become inseparable, however Karen was unaware of her girlfriends extracurricular activities.

Matt, being the asshole Jessica claimed him to be, asked why she didn’t just trust Karen with this information.

Claire then asked if Mike was his real name.

Touché. 

“I am late, Nardo,” Matt told his younger brother. “Got held up.”

“Playing hero?” Mikey asked, taking one of his older brother’s bags from him. Matt also had to double back to get them, and they were completely soaked through too. Luckily it was just clothing, he had already given all of his gifts to April to keep safe.

“Of course not,” Matt lied, ruffling his brother’s head as if it were full of hair. It was something Jack Murdock used to do, and so Matt did it out of habit. The turtles never seemed to mind.

“So where were you then, Matthew?” Donnie pressed. 

“Is that a robot you’re petting like a cat?” Matt deflected.

“He’s avoiding the question!” Raph yelled. “Immediate dismissal of this witness.”

The older man shook his head, chucking. “Stop watching trash lawyer shows.”

“Excuse you, Matthew,” Mikey now chimed in, “Galactic Advocates: The Chrono Counselor is not ‘trashy’.”

“Yeah, Matthew,” Leo piled on. Matt knew he was in it now with the majority of his brothers using his full name. He leaned against the table, eating an apple as they yelled at him. Luckily for him, however, they seemed to be more intersted in defending their show than his wereabouts.

“Maxwell Chrono is not your typical attorney – he's a time traveler with the ability to navigate through the past, present, and future. Can you do that?”

“And his love interest is just as interesting,” Raph tacked on. “Dr. Stella Nova is a brilliant astrophysicist and researcher at the Galactic Research Institute. Stella is not only a renowned scientist, but also an adventurous soul, fascinated by the mysteries of the cosmos. She first crosses paths with Max during a case involving a temporal anomaly that threatens to disrupt the fabric of space and time.”

“Don’t forget Lexa! Max's AI Assistant,” Donnie practically launched into the air as he explained. “Lexa is a highly advanced artificial intelligence with vast knowledge of laws and legal systems from across galaxies and timelines. She serves as Max's loyal sidekick, providing legal research, strategizing, and assisting with time-travel navigation.”

“My favorite has always been Captain Kael Varian.” Mikey had given up on the soggy bag, abandoning it on the ground. “He’s a seasoned pilot with a background in law enforcement across different planets. His experience dealing with various cultures and legal codes makes him an invaluable asset to the team.”

Matt took another gracious bite of the apple and looked his brother’s over. “Invaluable, huh? I dunno, I always felt like Luna-9 was the most important of Max’s crew. Between their shapeshifting and diplomatic skills, it allows them to blend in with different species and gather critical information during investigations.”

The brother’s watched their eldest as he finished his snack before erupting in a frenzy.

“You do watch it!” They accused.

Matt shrugged, “never said I didn’t. Foggy and I watch it as a form of inspiration. Well, Foggy watches it and then describes it in immense detail.”

The discussion of Galactic Advocates redirected the conversation from Matt’s former whereabouts to where the Hamato boys thought the show was headed. Overall, it was a solid conversation, and by the time Splinter finally made his appearance, the boys had forgotten that Matt had been late.

The next morning was another story.

“So, Matt,” Leo slid up next to him. “Given anymore thought to the life of cómo se dice crime fighting?”

The freshman took a sip of his coffee before answering with ease, “Lucha contra el crimen. And, no, I haven’t.”

Leo huffed, “I think you’re lying.”

“What? Me?” Matt gave an exagerated gasp before returning to his breakfast.

The red-eared slider turtle dramatically threw himself over the table. “When did you stop being fun?”

The human raised his mug at him, “when did you get to be so annoying?”

Leo stuck his tongue out at him, neither taking offense.

“You think I could be a superhero?”

Matt almost dropped his mug at the question. 

“You’re ten,” he clarified. “I’m an adult.”

The twin sat up, “Aha! You are a superhero.”

Matt was about to retort when Splinter sat down across from the two with his own breakfast.

“Blue, what did I say about climbing on the furniture?”

“Sorry, Dad,” Leo ducked his head, sliding back down. “This isn’t over,” Leo threatened in a whisper to his eldest brother. Matt tried not to laugh at the seriousness of his tone.

He continued to eat before Splinter cleared his throat. “I was called by the police yesterday.”

“Oh?”

“Or, I guess I should say, Lou Jitsu was called yesterday. His representative, Mr. Muto, went to investigate.”

“Are you Mr. Muto?” Matt asked dumbly, knowing exactly where this was headed.

“Mr. Muto was then informed that Louie Smalls, the manager of one of Lou Jitsu’s schools, was apprehended for robbery and money laundering. Apparently the men had multiple firearms and shot at whoever attacked them all.”

“I’m sorry,” Matt tried to hide a laugh behind his hand, “But Big Louie’s surname is Smalls ?”

“Yellow, this is serious!” Splinter slammed his hand on the table. Matt stilled, sobering up. “They shot at whoever attacked them. You could have died.”

Matt shook his head, “what makes you think I had anything to do with it? Sounds like Lou Jitsu has a guardian angel or something. I’m a Devil, remember?”

“Yellow,” Splinter warned.

“But that’s good that your school was saved. I say don’t look a gifted horse in the mouth.”

“Matthew.”

That shut him up.

“I made a promise to your father to protect you, and I can’t do that if you’re running into gunfire defending a life I no longer live.”

“Then why don’t you do anything about it?” Matt shot back. “Obviously you were torn up over it, but I didn’t see you racing to get him off of the street. I saw a problem and I dealt with it with zero casualties, mind you. And you didn’t promise my dad shit, because as soon as the great Jack Murdock decided to settle down, where were you?”

He was standing up at this point, his voice raised.

“You’ve talked about owing my dad for years, but I didn’t even know who you were before you adopted me. I get that you were friends before, but don’t shovel your guilt onto me because you couldn’t stop him from being killed.”

He regretted it as soon as he had said it, but he wouldn’t have said it if he didn’t believe it wasn’t true.

“I’m sorry-”

“I don’t want your apologies,” Matt interrupted him. “I just don’t want you to get up into my grill for my choices.”

He stormed off at that point, leaving his half eaten breakfast and coffee. Was it the mature choice? No. But Matt liked what he did yesterday. Loved hanging out with people like him. Luke was invulnerable and had super strength, while Jessica also had super strength and an itch to punch people. He had never felt so seen by humans before. 

A part of Matt saw Splinter’s worry as his adopted father’s way of taking that all away. A jealousy. The rational part of his brain knew that that wasn’t the case, but he couldn’t stop his emotions from overtaking him. Maybe it was Elektra's standards, a person who saw him for who he was and couldn’t meet him where he was. Luke and Jessica did that. Claire did that.

Splinter was a good man. He was a good father who wanted to protect his sons, Matt included, and the Devil lashed out at him.

Matt hid in his old room, warm tears spilling down his cheeks as he pressed his face into a cold pillow. 

Splinter would never understand the guilt Matt felt over his dad’s death. He would never understand that he had to listen to him die. That was the trigger hair response for Matt to forgo his own safety, never wanting to relive that moment ever again. If he could, he would, or die trying at least.

There was only one person he wanted to call right now, and she was ghosting him, so he called someone else, praying he answered.

“Oh, Matt! Are you…are you crying?”

He had facetimed his roommate, as promised, swiping angrily at his eyes.

“Hey, Fogs. Did I catch you at a bad time?”

He hated FaceTime calls because he truly felt blind with them. No radar sense to back him up, and yet they could see everything that was wrong with him. But maybe he needed that sort of vulnerability right now.

“Of course not, man. I’m just feeding the chickens. They hate the snow, so we’ve locked them all up in the barn. You’ve ever read Click, Click, Moo ? It’s like that.”

Matt then recognized the telltale sounds of farm animals in the background.

“But what about you, Matty, what’s wrong?”

The concern in his voice made Matt let out a soft sob, and he had to hastily wipe at his face again. “I fucked up, Foggy. I yelled at my dad about my dead dad. I mean, who does that?”

Foggy was silent for a moment, and Matt would’ve assumed he had hung up if a cow hadn’t mooed in the background.

“Swear jar,” Foggy offered softly. “That’s a tough one. I’m sure you didn’t mean it, and I’m sure he knows you didn’t mean it. Doesn’t mean that neither of you aren’t hurt by it. You get what I mean?”

Matt scrunched his nose up, in an attempt to stop his tears, “you said ‘mean’ a lot just then.”

“Yeah, well, I’m working on being less repetitive,” Foggy laughed, lightening up the mood.

Matt joined him, feeling immensely better.

“Just say you’re sorry. He’s your dad, he’ll forgive you. Parents are tough, but doesn’t make them any less human.”

Human.

“He’s hurting too, buddy, but he loves you. He’s proud of you. You just need to meet him where he’s at sometimes. Like my dad,” Foggy’s voice dropped. “He wants to retire and none of his kids want to take the business. I get that, but I also get how much the business means to him. It was founded by our great whatever when they immigrated to America. It doesn’t change the fact that I don’t want to run it, but at least I’m seeking to understand him first. Seek to understand whatever your dad meant before you bite his head off again. Does that make sense?”

Matt let out a shaky breath and nodded, “yeah, it does, actually. Thanks.”

“No problem. Listen, I should probably go before these chickens eat me instead of the feed, but let me know how it goes, okay, man?”

“Will do. Tell your mom hi for me, will you?”

“Of course. Love ya, man.”

Matt swallowed before replying, “l-love you too.”

Then the phone hung up and Matt fell onto his back. “You can come in.”

Raph poked his head from behind the makeshift curtain door, “I wasn’t listening in, Matty, honest.”

“That’s okay. What’s up?”

The twelve-year-old was wearing a football helmet Matt had gotten him for his birthday earlier that year, which was really just a random day Splinter had picked out of the year, so that every turtle except the twins had to share. Sharing had been their idea after all.

“You made Pops cry.”

The body language mixed with the softness of his voice made Matt feel worse than he already did.

“I know,” Matt whispered. “I was pretty mean.”

Raph scrunched up his face in confusion. “If you knew it was mean, then why did you say it?”

Matt sighed, defeated. “I wanted to be mean.”

“Why?”

“I was angry.”

“That’s not a good reason, Matty,” Raph scorned.

“I know, kid. I just…I was wrong.”

Raph looked down at the ground before returning his gaze to his older brother. His arms were folded tightly over his plastron, and Matt could immediately see that he was taking on a completely new role. A role Matt used to fill before he left. The leader. “We're a family, and we should be lifting each other up, not tearing each other down. Pop’s been through a lot to keep us safe and give us a home. He doesn't deserve that kind of disrespect.”

Matt nodded, dumbfounded by how smart the kid sounded. “I’ll apologize. I promise.”

“Apologizing is a good start, but you need to understand the impact of your words. We need to be better brothers to each other and show Pops the respect he deserves. We've faced big threats together, but hurting each other emotionally? That's a different kind of danger.”

Matt blinked and smiled softly at his brother. “When did you get so smart?”

“When did you get so dumb?” Raph raised a brow.

“Touché.” Matt stood up and tossed his phone aside. “Alright, I’m going to tell Dad sorry. Is he in his room?”

Raph shook his head, “Worse. He’s watching his soaps.”

Which meant he was hogging the television, although Raph didn’t seem too bothered by that.

“Hey,” Matt said when he approached the lazy boy that housed his adopted mutated father.

“Yellow,” was all Matt got in return.

“Yeah, I deserve that,” the boy offered, shuffling his feet awkwardly. “I wanted to tell you that I was out of line and I shouldn’t have weaponized your friendship with my dad like that. I guess I just got defensive because I like using these powers for something other than seeing for myself. You’re not up there, you don’t hear the wars going on mere blocks away.”

“I was a human long before I was a mutant. I know of the horrors that the world offer. But you have to see my side of it. What would I have done if you had gotten hurt? I promised your father-”

“You keep saying that,” Matt crouched down, so that his chin was almost touching the armrest. “I don’t understand what you mean by that. What did you promise my dad?”

Splinter was quiet and looked away from his eldest child.

“Please, Splinter,” Matt begged, “I need to know.”

Splinter shook his head. “Not yet, Matthew. Please, just be a child for a little longer. If I tell you everything, you’ll never be able to return to your innocence. This is my burden. I was not meant to drag children into it.”

“But-”

“Trust me, musuko.”

Matt nodded, his head bowed deep as Splinter surprised him by pressing his forehead to his.

He had read a book, back when Splinter had first taken him in, and he wanted to know more about Japanese culture. This was Splinter’s way of showing him fureai, or an emotional connection. Despite this level of love and commitment Hamto Yoshi had to his son, Matt’s head still swirled with unanswered questions. 

Why was Big Louie operating out of your school? Does this have anything to do with the Foot? Do you know Stick? Does this have to do with Elektra and her war? Was my dad in this war? Are you in this war? Is my dad dead because of Stick’s war? What is my purpose?

But instead of asking any of these questions, he just stayed there, acknowledging just how much he loved his mutated family.

Christmas came and went, along with presents exchanged. Foggy had gotten him a shirt that said Partners in (legal) crime , according to Mikey, who read it aloud with an astonishing loud announcing voice. Other gifts were little knickknacks and homemade gadgets. Splinter told Matt that April had taken the boys shopping, and used money Splinter had given them. They were well-thought-out and meant a lot to the adult. Santa had also dropped off presents, although Donnie was already aging out of that sort of nonsense.

“There is no way, scientifically, that Santa would be able to do this,” he frowned. “It’s most likely just one of the adults.”

“Or it could be a mutant,” Leo advocated.

“We’re the only mutants, Nardo,” Donnie shot back.

“That we know of. Maybe Dad’s met one before. Have you, Dad?”

Splinter’s heart beat quickened, leading Matt to believe that their adopted father was hiding something. “I need to check on the tea,” he lied and quickly excused himself.

Leo frowned as Donnie rubbed it in his face.

“There are probably other mutants,” Matt tried. “They’re probably just hiding, like you guys are.”

“But I don’t want to hide,” Mikey sniffled. “I want to be in the world. Like you.”

“Yeah! Matty’s a mutant and he gets to be in the world. Maybe it's an adult thing,” Raph tried.

Though they all knew that that wasn’t the case. They all played along with it, however, just as Splinter returned.

When they dropped by the O’Neil’s later, she was quick to drag them to her room for gift exchanging. April, unlike the turtles, had grown up celebrating Kwanzaa. When they first began hanging out with her, the boys picked up quickly that she valued homemade gifts more than store bought, as so, every year, without fail, they battled to see who could be the most creative.

Last year, Donnie had won with a robot that would dance to the style of the music playing. The robot, however, blew up due to hearing so much audio all at once, never having been to a busy apartment complex before. It was still a cool gadget for the twelve minutes it lasted.

Everyone offered up their gifts. Matt’s was always mismatched color wise due to lacking that ability with his faux sight. This year, however, Foggy had ‘helped’ which was still lying to Matt whenever he picked up a color. He thought as much, but still thought it was nice of him to be there for him, even if it just made them both laugh.

This year, April took the cake when she pressed her carefully wrapped gift into Matt’s hands. “You better like it, DD, or I’ll be angry with you.”

Matt raised a brow before carefully opening the box. His radar senses were picking up something he couldn’t quite place. “Are these…horns?”

April broke out into a large grin. “It’s your vigilante costume.”

He pulled the suit out of the box, trying to examine it as the boys oohed and awed like the peanut gallery they were. “Describe it.”

“It’s a yellow and red suit made with a mix of Kevlar and a light alloy so that if you get hit, it won’t hurt as much.”

“Why is it the color of condiments?”

“Because Splints calls you Yellow and a Devil is red. Duh.”

Matt gave her a weary look. “No.”

“You’re Daredevil!”

He groaned and dropped the suit back into its box. “No, guys, seriously.”

“At least try it on, Matt!” Mikey begged.

The faux vigilante took in a deep breath before standing up and walking into the bathroom with the suit. The children cheered at this development, but nothing could prepare any of them when Matt walked back out dressed as a hero.

“You look,” Leo started, dumbfounded. “So cool! I want a picture with you right now! April, get my good side.”

“Get off me,” Matt laughed, lightly shoving the kid away. “April, how did you even make this?”

“My welding teacher, Mr. Potter, makes costumes for the drama club up at the high school. He helped me. Also, he gave me some billy clubs to match, since he knows they’re your signature piece. Got an A this semester for it, too.”

Matt ran his hands down the helmet, which, did have horns as promised. He wasn’t sure what bits were yellow and what were red. He was grateful for the lack of lettering on his chest like most cartoon heroes had, but it still felt like much. Jessica and Luke didn’t have suits made of kevlar.

Jessica and Luke also didn't have breakable skin.

“I’m gonna go test it out,” he said, taking a club from April. “I’ll be back soon.”

“What! We wanna go!” Raph complained.

“When you’re all teens,” Matt promised before falling out of the window. He probably shouldn't have trusted billy clubs made by a middle school arts teacher, but they did the job, none the less. He soared through the sky, his newly made suit keeping him warm. As Matt tumbles and manuvered on roofs, he felt more relaxed than he ever had. That’s why, when his phone rang, he was caught so off guard.

“Hello?” he tried to sound casual, even though his breathing was labored from all of the rooftop swinging.

“Matthew, it’s been a while.”

“Elektra!” Matt’s eyes went wide. “It’s been a month. Why are you-”

“I wanted to apologize again and offer my christmas present.”

“You don’t even celebrate Christmas,” Matt pointed out, despite being over the moon about this development.

“No, you’re right, I don’t, but I wanted to give you one anyways. Come to this address right now.” She rattled one off in the richer part of New York and Matt was already swinging from billy clubs to make it there in a timley manner. He didn’t even registar his lack of civilian clothes when he traveled up the long driveway. 

That being said, if he was going to play hero, he would want Elektra to be the first to know.

“Matthew,” she said in lieu of greeing. “You look…yellow.”

“Thanks. New threads. You like?”

She thought for a moment before shrugging, “we can always make adjustments, I guess. Come in.”

Matt nodded as he crossed the threshhold into her house. “I’ve never been to your home before,” Matt said dumbly, since the same could be said about him. She shook her head, pressing a wine glass into his hand. 

“It’s not my house.” She kissed him before he could process what she said. “I thought about your reaction to my methods, and I wanted you to understand where I was coming from.”

“El, what are you-?”

She pulled him into the foyer where a man sat tied to a chair, gagged. 

“You didn’t,” Matt frowned, almost dropping the wine. “Tell me you didn’t! Who is that?”

“Oh, Matthew,” she smiled, placing a delicate hand on the man’s shoulder. “You remember Roscoe Sweeney, the son of a bitch who killed your father?”

The man struggled against the restraints as Elektra pulled off the gag. “When I get out of this...Oh, I'll remember your faces. Every single bit of them… I will hunt you!”

“Aw,” Elektra said softly before slapping Sweeney across the face. “When you get out. That’s cute.”

“Where did you find him?” Matt asked, his voice quivering. He hadn’t seen this man since Raph and him accidently bumped into him six years prior. He had a hunch back then, when he was Raph’s current age, but Elektra shared her findings so freely that Matt was inclined to believe her.

“Monte Carlo,” she offered simply. “That’s where I’ve been.”

“You dropped out?”

Elektra smilled, “I wasn't lying, Matthew, I wanted you to understand me.” She turned and gestured to Roscoe, “He's been going by an alias for years now. Al Marino.” Elektra took a swig from the bottle she was currently holding and spat it back in his face. “An ugly name for an ugly man.”

“Oh, you're dead,” he sputtered. “Both of ya! Couple of kids playing hero!”

Another slap, “Hey! Watch your tongue. While it's still attached.” The woman turned back to Matt, her smile never dropping when she faced him. “He tried to hide. Went underground. But the scum always rises. Al just couldn't stay anonymous. He had to spend his blood money. Make a splash. Be the big man.” She swriled back and tapped Roscoe’s nose, “You made it easy for me.”

“Eat shit.”

“Want me to hit you again?” She threatend and then threw her head back and laughed. It was a wild and wicked thing, but sudden enough to pull Matt back into the present. “Well, I won't. But he will.”

Elektra pointed at Matt standing there like a toy solider awaiting orders. He was trying hard to breathe, but the floor threatened to give out from underneath him.

“I don't know him from Christ,” Rosecoe laughed himself, wine and blood dripping from his lips. “but one look and I can tell pretty boy ain't got it in him.

Matt took the steps necessary to close the distance between them, his blood boiling.

“You don't remember me? You killed my father.” 

He wanted to strangle him. Take the rope that binded him and wrap it tighly around the man’s neck. He wanted him to feel as helpless as Matt did that night.

“Well, I hate to break it to you, son... but I killed a lot of guys' dads.”

“Then let me help you.” Matt tore the helmet mask off and tossed it to the ground. “He hit hard. Like this.” He punched Roscoe in the face, hard enough for the chair to tumble back and fall. 

The mob boss spat out blood that was accumulating before laughing, “You call that hard?”

Matthew was on top of him then, the chair tilting back and breaking on impact as Matt continued to throw blow after blow. Elektra cheered him on from the side.

“Let it out, okay? Whatever’s inside you. Do it for your father, Matthew. Do it for us. Come on.”

Matt was about to lay another hit into the already bloodied and bruised face of his father’s killer when the man spoke up, as if from beyond the grave.

“Matthew? You’re Battlin’ Jack’s boy.” The mobseter laughed, despite his injuies. The response was enough to break Matt out of his murderous trance. “Oh, you amateur. Now I know your name. Nothing'll stop me from bloodying the street with your corpse. Just like I did to your old man!”

Matt pulled him up by his lapels and brought him close to his face. The man tried to exert confidence, and he was doing a great job, but he underestimated his own heart betraying him.

“Yes,” Elektra smiled, pouring wine on the ground. "End it. End it now.”

Matt let go of the man and he fell hard onto his back.

“What are you doing?” his girlfriend questioned when he arose and gathered his helmet.

“I…I’m done now. That’s all I got.”

The man’s blood dripped from his knuckles and he felt like throwing up at the smell of it.

Elektra shook her head, a worried expression on her face. She pressed a firm hand to his chest and frowned. “No. He knows your name. Cut his throat. Kill him.”

The vigalnte took a step back, shock painted on his face. “What?”

“Kill him,” she reiterated. “There are knives in this house.”

“I-I can’t do that.”

“We can do anything together. Remember?” She was scared, but Matt was terriffied.

“No, I can’t.”

Elektra took her own step back now, anger washing over, and grief. “I thought you understood me.”

Matt sighed, “Yeah, I thought I did, too. I’m…I’m gonna call the police.”

“Matthew…”

He picked up one of the house phones, weighing it in his hand as he dialed the authorities, relaying the location of a wanted felon. Even if Roscoe told on him, who would believe him? A blind man who was at a party on the opposite side of town beat him up? As if.

When the police showed up, Elektra and Matt were on a rooftop far away watching as a bloodied and disoriented Roscoe slurred his vocabulary as he tried to convince the officers that it was that ‘Murdock, kid. Officer, ya gotta believe me’. 

“Why did you take me to that mansion?” Matt asked once Roscoe was thrown in the back of a police cruiser.

“Really, that’s your question?”

Matt gave her a look and she crossed her arms over her chest. “For fun,” she lied.

“For fun? El, you tried to make me kill a man and that’s fun for you?”

“Oh don’t get your morals in a twist, Matthew, you didn’t even kill him.”

“But you wanted me to.”

“I thought you wanted to too, but I was wrong.”

Matt let out an exasperated laugh, “Why would you think I wanted to, El?”

“Because I thought you were like me!” She cried, real emotion, for the first time ever knowing her, showed on her face. “I thought that Hamato Yoshi raised you the same way that my Master did, but I was wrong. I thought you cared enough about justice and order that you were willing to be like me. I thought I knew you.”

“No,” Matt waved a finger at her, “don’t do that. Don’t act like you have some window into my soul, because you don’t, and you never have.”

Elektra shook her head, moving her face to cover the trickling tears. “There has always been this glorious darkness inside of you. Inside of us. I just thought if I took you to Roscoe Sweeney’s it would come out, as plain as the Devil you disguise yourself with.”

Matt kicked at the snow, not sure how to respond to her raw emotions.

“I’m sorry,” he decided on. “But that person you’re talking about. That’s not me.”

She nodded and stepped in closer to him. “I know,” her voice came out only slightly above a whisper. “And that is why I loved you.”

Matt did everything in his power to not reach out and grab her tight, because he had been down this path before, and he knew that this time truly meant the end.

“Loved?”

She kissed him, and for everything that it was worth, it felt like their last kiss.

“Goodbye, Matthew.”

He closed his eyes, as if simply closing them could silence the world, and he watched her leave, returning to a car she had stashed away.

“Goodbye, Elektra.

And with that, the Devil walked home alone, with a memory of a scripture echoing in his head.

Something about scarlet and snow.

Something about sin.

Something about him.