Song: Immortals - Fall Out Boy

The butcher knife soars straight at Leonardo. Without really thinking, I bunch my muscles and leap. My hand wraps around the handle and I stop it mid-flight, saving the blue-clad turtle from getting injured. I clench my fist around the knife handle to disguise my anger as I give it back to the owner.

"Leave the knife-throwing to the professionals, lady," I tell her stiffly. My words create a startled and thoroughly shocked expression on her face.

"Who- what-" she starts to ask, but she can never get out a whole question. She then simply blinks at us, fear lighting up her face.

Elizabetta steps in, probably sensing a sharp retort on the tip of my tongue and wanting to stop it. "Aunt Penelope, these are my friends: Leonardo, Raphael, Donatello, and Michelangelo." She points at each of us as she states our names. Lastly, she nods to her brother. "And this is my brother, Edmund. But you remember him from family gatherings, of course,"

"Hi!" Edmund greets her cheerfully as he engulfs her in a big bear hug.

Penelope hesitates before returning the embrace. She is more starstruck than scared now. "Eddy, darling! Aren't you supposed to be-?" she cuts off her question as she lets go of him, as if she doesn't want to finish.

"As a matter of fact, it is," Elizabetta answers with a smile.

"It's so lovely to see you again, sweetheart!" the short lady exclaims, her eyes sparkling.

Leonardo steps forward and replaces Edmund. He dips his head respectfully. "Miss um, Penelope, is it?" When the lady hesitantly nods, he goes on. "We don't mean to intrude or frighten you. I know our appearance comes off as scary, but we come in peace."

"You're making us sound like aliens, Fearless," I growl. She's already petrified. We don't need to add to that by sounding like creatures from another planet.

"Well, technically, we have alien DNA," Donatello points out. "The chemical compound that altered our bodily structures and mutated us was created by the Kraang, which are extra-terrestrials from another dimension. So, in a way, we're 33.3% alien, human, and turtle."

I glance at Michelangelo, who zoned out halfway through and is twisting his finger inside one of his ears. I feel the same way he does: clueless and uninterested.

"You done?" I ask Donatello.

The purple-clad turtle taps his chin for a moment and then nods. "Yep."

Elizabetta breaks in once again. "Aunt Pen, this is the Michelangelo who invented that omelet recipe," she says, gesturing to the youngest turtle.

Penelope instantly brightens, most of the terror leaving her. "So, you're that brilliant chef Lizzy mentioned!"

Michelangelo doesn't even bother denying it. He lifts his chin proudly. "That's right! I'm a master in the kitchen. Ask any of my brothers! Well, except Raph; he doesn't like anything I do," he adds.

I shoot him a glare, to which he just grins at. Why does he always have to make me sound horrible?

"You have to give me some tips, dear," Penelope says, interest flooding her gaze as she looks at Michelangelo. "I'd love to know what gave you bright idea of mixing herbs with eggs!"

"Oh, that's easy," Michelangelo smiles. "It was an accident. I sort of spilled it in and I didn't want to start over, because I had just gotten a new comic book and I wanted to read it ASAP. So, I fed it to my brothers anyway. They liked it, and I've been making them like that ever since!"

Leonardo, Donatello, and I all exchange glances. "I don't know what's worse," Donatello comments. "The fact that Mikey could have easily poisoned us, or that we risk our lives like that every day."

Elizabetta looks relieved that the two kitchen geeks are getting along. "Aunt Pen, if you don't mind staying open longer, we would love something to eat," she says. "I'll gladly help, and I think Mikey would want to, also."

"You bet, dudettes!" Michelangelo agrees.

Excited, Penelope nods. "Of course! Everyone else go take a seat at the bar and order whatever you want! I'll lock up for the night and then we can cook up a storm."

"Come on, Mikey," Elizabetta says eagerly, walking back into the kitchen. "I'll show you where everything is."

"This is gonna be so wicked cool!" Michelangelo squeaks as he darts after her, tapping the top of the doorframe with his hand as he goes through it. Penelope locks the restaurant doors, flips the sign around so 'Closed' is visible on the outside, and she disappears into the back as well.

I have to admit that for once, it's handy having Michelangelo around. If it wasn't for his culinary knowledge, Penelope wouldn't have accepted us so quickly. I guess my dimwitted little brother does have his uses after all.

Penelope, whom is probably in her late fifties, is young at heart. She zooms around the kitchen like the expert she is, cracking jokes to her fellow chefs all the while. She's nimble on her feet and she doesn't have a problem lifting heavy things. I have to admit that she impresses me, and that isn't easy to do.

Once Penelope gets over our looks, we all click. We tell her some stories about New York City, and she tells us about her childhood. She is fascinated by our adventures in the city that never sleeps- she has apparently wanted to visit there all of her life. She's just never been able to get away from her work.

The whole night flies by far too quickly. We eat, laugh, gasp, and even cry. Well, Michelangelo cries when he stubs his toe, but that's it. It's just a fun night, and well-deserved, if I do say so myself.

At 1 a.m., Elizabetta calls it quits.

"We should really be going now, Aunt Pen," she announces, a hint of regret in her voice. The whole time we've been here, it's become more obvious how close they are. It's a relationship like I have with Master Splinter; the kind that makes you feel safe.

"So soon, sweetheart?" Penelope asks. She looks just as disappointed as Elizabetta. "You haven't even had dessert yet!"

"Dessert?!" Michelangelo perks up. "Where?!"

"Not now, Mikey," Leonardo orders with a shake of his head.

"Sorry, but we had a long ride here and we really need to get some sleep," Elizabetta apologizes, handing Penelope money. "This should cover everything. And I'll work a double-shift tomorrow to make up for leaving for so long," she adds with a guilty smile.

Penelope laughs and pushes the money back into the teenager's hands. "Don't worry about it, hon! You have friends with you, and a brother to reconnect with. I'll cover all of your shifts until you're ready to come back."

Elizabetta bites her lip. "Are you sure?"

"Hey, I may be old, but I still know my way around this place," Penelope responds with a wink. She looks at the rest of us and gives us a friendly grin. "Have a lovely evening! And again, sorry about the knife incident, dear." She pats Leonardo's shoulder.

Leonardo smiles. "It's alright. Good-bye, Penelope," he says, bowing in farewell.

Penelope raises her eyebrows in surprise, grinning widely. "Well, aren't you a gentleman?! Good-bye, all of you!"

Leonardo gives her one last nod, before turning his attention to Donatello, Michelangelo, and I. "Let's go, team," he commands. We head back out into the night with Edmund and Elizabetta trailing behind us.

~*~*~*~

As soon as we get to Elizabetta's house, she doesn't bother with a tour. She simply starts rattling off what room is where, and then proceeds to suggest where we should sleep.

"I have two bedrooms upstairs," she explained. "You all can partner up and figure out who gets what room. I'll sleep on one of the couches down here."

"Wait, wouldn't one of those rooms be yours?" Edmund questions her, a puzzled expression on his face.

"Well, yes," Elizabetta admits reluctantly. "But I don't mind taking the couch. You are my guests, after all."

"No, you should take your own room," Leonardo says suddenly. He uses the tone that he always does when he is making a firm decision. "I'll stay on a couch."

I roll my eyes. Of course he wants Elizabetta to be as comfortable as possible.

The stubborn teenage girl meets his gaze determinedly, however. "I'm staying on the couch," she insists. "And that's final."

"Then I'm taking the other couch," Leonardo replies just as obstinately.

Smooth.

Donatello speaks up. "Guess that settles it, then. The rest of us will take the rooms."

Michelangelo's bright blue eyes sparkle eagerly. He falls down on his knees in front of Edmund. "Ed, will you bunk with me?! Huh, huh? Will ya? Pleeeease?" he begs, showing off his pouty lip.

Edmund chuckles. "Of course I will, Mike," he agrees.

"YES!" Michelangelo squeaks. "Let's go!" He grabs the human's wrist and tugs him up to the second floor.

I toss Donatello a brooding look, playfully punching his shoulder. "Guess I'm stuck with you, nerd."

Donatello smiles faintly, before we head up the stairs together to get some much-needed sleep. I go straight to the room, but Donatello heads for the restroom.

"I'll be there in a minute," he calls after me, to which I grunt in reply. I flop onto the queen-sized bed and curl up under the covers. I yawn and close my eyes, willing sleep to take me under.

After a few moments of silence, I hear a noise. Thinking it's strange that Donatello is back so soon, I open my eyes.

But what I see is not the purple-clad turtle. It's a huge, black shadow. It has the shape of a human, but no visible features.

I sit up and rub my eyes, assuming it's just my imagination. But when I look again, the figure is closer. I scream and roll off the other side of the bed when it swipes at me. I catch a glimpse of something sharp in one of its hands.

My heart nearly pounding out of my chest, I start to scoot across the floor to get away. The shadow simply follows me, the sharp object in its hand glinting dangerously. It takes another swipe, and I gasp as it narrowly misses my cheek.

I shrink down against the wall, cornered and panicking. What is going on? What does it want from me? Why is it trying to kill me?

Suddenly, the shadow fades. Leonardo, Donatello, Michelangelo, Edmund, and Elizabetta come charging into my room a second after, all looking bewilder.

"What's going on?" Leonardo questions. "Why did you scream?"

"Did you see a cockroach?" Michelangelo pokes fun at me.

"No!" I snap, glaring at the orange-clad turtle.

"Then what happened?" Leonardo presses impatiently.

I swallowed the lump in my throat as I try to explain. "There was... A shadow... A huge shadow... like-"

"A phantom?" Michelangelo interrupts. I realize he's right.

"Yeah, like that!" I feed off of his reply. "And it had something really sharp that it was attacking me with!"

"Was it shiny?" Michelangelo questions further. The look on his face is full of amazement.

I am astonished as well. How does he know? "Yes," I finally admit.

"I saw the same thing the other night!" Michelangelo exclaims. "See?! I told you it was real! But you didn't believe me!"

"I think you both just need some rest," Donatello sighs with a shake of his head. "The Shellraiser fumes must be messing with you."

"I'm telling the truth!" I retort. Why don't they believe me? I wouldn't lie about something like this!

"That's enough," Leonardo growls, finally losing his cool. "I expect this from Mikey. But from you, Raph? Since when do you agree with him on anything? This has to be some kind of prank."

Anger floods me. I jump onto my feet so I'm face-to-face with him. "This isn't a joke! I actually saw something!"

"What you saw was a figment of your imagination," Leonardo sniffs. "Just go to bed," he adds sharply, before walking out of the bedroom. Elizabetta and Edmund slowly follow him. A glimpse of Elizabetta's face shows me how pale she suddenly is, but then she's gone.

"I'm going to finish brushing my teeth," Donatello announces after a short, awkward pause, and he disappears as well.

Michelangelo takes a seat beside me. He places a hand on my shoulder, his big blue eyes glowing with sympathy.

"I believe you, bro," he says quietly.

I feel a surge of gratitude towards him. Sure, he drives me insane half of the time. He says things he shouldn't and he's usually the reason we get into so much trouble with Master Splinter. But I'm happy he understands me. I am also glad that he is sticking up for me when no one else is.

"Thanks, little brother," I mumble. Though I'm not so great at hugs, I throw my arms around him and squeeze him anyway. I'm content when he curls his arms around me as well. I don't notice I'm shaking until I finally stop.

"Go to sleep this time, ok?" Michelangelo says softly, giving me a pat on the shoulder before he stands up.

"Ok," I agree. He gives me one last goofy grin, before he exits.

I curl back up into my blanket and close my eyes. My fear has dissolved like sugar in water.

Moments like that are the reason I am glad to have a brother like Michelangelo.