"All of you have heard of virtual reality," Sarina says, acting as a professor teaching to her less-than-eager pupils. "Well, Donatello and I have a plan to create a machine that can send us into the cyberverse and destroy this threat from the inside." She gazes at her boyfriend lovingly. "I must give credit where it is due, Donatello came up with the idea."

Donatello beams at her. "And you made it better, darling."

More loving gazes between the two stretch the silence to awkward lengths, prompting Leonardo to clear his throat. Sarina's eyes flash and Donatello blinks rapidly, flashing a sheepish smile as he dons his professional visage.

"Ah, yes, about the machine," he says. "It will require lots of work and there's a high probability of never returning to the real world, but after seeing the virus' intentions, it's imperative that we do this." His russet eyes darken. "It's the only way."

"Dudes...that's like level nine video game booyakasha!" Michelangelo gushes.

Leonardo strokes his chin, humming. "Even so, we don't know much about this virus. Trying to beam ourselves into the depths of cyberspace could be really dangerous, especially with an unknown enemy."

"That is true," Sarina says. "However, this machine will not be built overnight. During the time it takes, Donatello and I will discover as much as we can about the virus so that, when the time comes, we will be prepared."

"And let me guess," Raphael cuts in. "That's why we brought the shrimp home?"

Annalise pouts a little and crosses her arms. "I'm not that short."

Raphael shrugs, indifferent, while Donatello and Sarina ignore the snark in his tone completely as they nod.

"That is exactly why we need her," Sarina says.

"If she's as good with computers as she says she is, she has a skill set that we can use," Donatello adds. "Sarina and I will have lots on our hands and having a kindred spirit will speed up the process. I imagine she can design the cyberverse outfits, weapons, communication—"

"Hold up, you want me to design weapons and outfits?" Annalise repeats with a gasp. "That's wicked!" Her excitement falters and her shoulders slump. "But...one problem, I can't really draw or anything, so blueprints and prototypes..." She sighs. "When it's code, I'm good. Otherwise..."

"Raph can help you with that," Destiny pipes up.

Raphael shoots her a glare. "Why me? I can't draw either."

"Right, like the Venus de Milo on the Party Wagon wasn't your handiwork." She smirks and looks to Annalise. "He'll help you."

Annalise nods and aims a smile at Raphael. "Thank you."

"Hmph."

With that decided, Sarina and Donatello launch into a further explanation, albeit most of it is them talking to each other with increasingly flowery vocabulary being used. It's enough for Michelangelo to zone out and focus on something else: Annalise. In her videos, she's funny and perky and she oozes confidence, but he's almost sad to say that she isn't anything like that in real life. So far, she's more calm, soft-spoken, and thoughtful. She stands with her arms crossed over her chest, lips pursed and eyes wide, like she's just waiting for a chance to disappear.

His chest tightens and he reminisces about her admitting to some of the stress she's felt lately and the announcement video where her usual energy just isn't there. The question he wants answers to is simple; is her personality on YouTube an act or is it a part of her that has started to drain away, giving way to this hidden part of her? Or—the thought alone shakes him—she's faked it all and the girl he's hopelessly celebrity-crushed on for years is nothing more than an idealized caricature. He truly hopes that it's the former.

"Alright, sounds good," Leonardo says, snapping Michelangelo back to the present. "Mikey, Destiny, and I will go and get supplies."

Michelangelo frowns and raises his hand. "Um...can I stay here with Annalise? Raph could go instead."

Raphael shrugs at the suggestion, glancing at Leonardo with narrowed eyes. "Or...you and Des could just go out and do your thing without some freakin' third wheel," he mutters. "I don't want to go anyway."

Leonardo's eyebrows lift with concern. "Raph—"

"You two go. I've got stuff to do. Drawings, apparently," he grumbles. With that, he stomps out of the lab.

There's a tense, weighty silence, and each of the Hamatos glance between each other. Annalise fidgets, starting to rub her forearm.

"Um...I'm going to...go. Yeah," she says.

She turns and scurries from the laboratory like a frightened squirrel. Michelangelo dashes after her within a few seconds, eyes wide, apologies and explanations hovering on the edge of his lips.

Outside, Annalise runs her hands over her face and flops down on the nearest beanbag chair in the living room. Michelangelo shuffles closer, the sudden loss of noise making his skin crawl. The only sign that there's anything living in the lair is the sound of Splinter's clinking teacup coming from the kitchen, where the rat is reading a novel.

"Annalise?" Michelangelo whispers, stepping down into the pit. "Are you okay?"

She shakes her head, keeping her face buried in her hands. "This is...this is too much to handle. In one day, I find out that there's this virus trying to take over the world, a family of mutants lives beneath my feet, somehow those mutants want me to help with their plans even though I've got absolutely nothing to offer and honestly it's just a little too much to handle all at once—"

"Hey, hey, breathe," he murmurs, kneeling next to her. "I told you, you're super important! You're Annalise, DeepFriedDonutLisey, the greatest YouTuber to ever—"

"Can you stop?" she begs, finally looking up at him.

Her saddened gaze steals the words from his mouth. She bites her lip hard, shoulders shaking, her face flushed with the effort of keeping tears at bay. He slowly lowers himself down into a sitting position, gazing up at her.

"L-Look, I—" She swallows hard. "It's...great...that you're a fan, really. You're the only person I've really trusted, the first fan I've met in the real world, but...please, stop saying stuff like, like I'm the greatest YouTuber or I'm so important or, or..." She hugs her knees to her chest, grey-blue eyes stormy as she sniffs hard. "B-But...I don't know you, any of you. You don't..." Her face disappears into her knees. "You don't know me."

He can't think of the last time he felt this helpless and he hates it. Desperate to cheer her up, he wraps an arm around her shoulders and tries to make himself smile, even if it's just a small one.

"S-Sure, I know you. I've seen your videos and I know how you—" he starts.

"Stop, please," she repeats, shaking her head. "You know what I let you know, what...what I'm allowed to show. You know the girl on the screen, not me."

His stomach plunges into his toes, crushing Stubby and Joey Nails and the Stinky Triplets and...okay, all of them, you get the idea. He pulls away from her and loops his arms under his knees. Annalise doesn't look up from her self-hug, her shaky breaths audible in the far-too-quiet lair.

He's made a terrible mistake. He got too excited about meeting her, about becoming closer to her, and now he's mucked it all up. He viewed her as an unbreakable model, an adorable girl that makes his heart pound, instead of seeing her as a person.

"I want to know the girl outside of the screen," he whispers. When her sniffling stops, he looks up at her with a soft smile. "I like her a lot so far."

She's real out here. She's within his grasp and she's kind and smart and brilliant and, honestly, she won his heart all over again the second she accepted him for the turtle he is. If it's happiness that she's missing, he'll help her find it again.

"Can you just take me home?" she asks, wiping off her face as she unfurls. "I'll tell my mom that I didn't feel good, that the sleepover didn't work out or...something." She clears her throat. "You can come and pick me up tomorrow."

"Annalise—"

"Please, Mikey?"

He nods. Getting to his feet, he offers her his hand and she takes it. She doesn't let go even as they get her bag, her fingers squeezing his. He leads her back to the lair entrance, her chin tilted towards her chest.

"Sorry," she whispers. "I'm so rude to just leave."

"It's okay, you're overwhelmed," he says with a weak smile. "You don't have to put up a front around me."

She nods and steps a little closer to him, shoulders bumping, and he's suddenly far too aware of the sweat on his hands. She doesn't take any notice of it (or at least she doesn't say anything). They wander down the sewer tunnels and when they get back to the surface, he carries her home.

She flashes a grateful smile when he sets her down on the fire escape. She turns around and pulls her window open, but before she can climb in, he taps her shoulder.

"Annalise?"

"Yeah?"

His cheeks redden and he rubs the back of his neck. "I'm sorry for being so forward. I got too excited about meeting you, so...yeah. I'm sorry."

She laughs a little. "It's alright, Mikey. I...I was excited too."

"Wait, seriously?"

Her eyes widen and she ducks her head down, biting her lip again. "Y-Yeah, just...because your comments were...uh..." She squeezes her eyes shut and flaps her hands at him. "Never mind! Forget I said anything!"

"Oh...kay..." His jaw is stuck in a far-too-wide smile. She slips into her room and he moves closer. "Also! Uh, thanks...for accepting me."

She nods a little too fast. "I'd want the same if I were you," she says. "I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"

"Okay!"

She shuts the window and he lingers long enough to see her literally fling herself onto her bed and shove her face in a pillow. He turns away, clapping his hands over his mouth to bite back squealing, kicking, happy noises.

She was excited to meet him too.

Life is so, so good.