Just a girl who lives in her imagination @lavadragon365 - Tumblr Blog

livin' like we're renegades

(written for @tmnt-secret-santa-2024 for @lavadragon365)

Fandom: Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles Prompt: I'd love to see how you think April O'Neil met the turtles. Word Count: 11687

Posted on AO3!

--

Here are the facts about April O’Neil:

a) She is nine years old, studying in the fourth grade, and just got the okay from her principal to be placed in the gifted students program next semester. She’s reading books at the seventh-grade level, and according to Mr. Reinhart, has the ‘critical thinking skills even my twelve year old son doesn’t!’

b) She is the daughter of one of the best brain doctors— sorry, neurosurgeons— in New York City. Her mom is so good at her job that she started making more money this year, so both of them moved from their old home in the Bronx to a bigger, nicer apartment in Manhattan. It has a floor made of real wood instead of dirty carpet, which is good because it’d been making April sneeze a lot recently.

c) She is the biggest fan of Jupiter Jim. Ever. Like, there is no competition at all. Her classmates from school don’t know who that is, and her mom is always too busy with either work or her favorite telenovelas to care about the awesomeness of the JJ and Red Fox duo. So she is, by default, the numero uno fan.

d) She has a secret. It’s a pretty big secret, she hasn’t told her mom and she hasn’t even told her stuffed giraffe Jorge, whom she tells everything to.

And the secret is: she knows a real-life superhero.

It sounds like a story straight out of a sci-fi movie. Like she’s the MJ to a Spider-Man, except she doesn’t have the red hair and she’s scared of spiders. But it’s true: there is an awesome, friendly, neighborhood Sewer-Man in their city! April doesn’t know what he looks like or sounds like or if it’s even a he, but she swears up and down that he exists. And that he helps her out when she needs it.

And if there’s anything she knows about superheroes, it is that their secret identities are very important to them. So she curbs her instinct to go searching, and keeps his secret for him, like a good friend.

She hopes the Sewer-Man thinks she’s just as cool as she thinks he is.

--

The first time she ever meets him, she’s on her way back from school with her mom, telling her about her science class.

“And then Ms. Kappernich showed us a bunch of pictures of all kinds of reptiles and sea animals. Did you know reptiles can change colors based on temperature?” April hops from one brick in the sidewalk to another, making a game of it as she hangs off her mom’s hand. “Iguanas can change their skin to be darker when it’s cold out so they can absorb more heat!”

“Oh, can they?” Her mom asks jovially, looping her arm around her shoulders and squeezing as she giggles. She’s ecstatic that her mom was able to come pick her up—usually she works most afternoons and her babysitter picks her up once after high school. But Mom has no surgeries scheduled today, so she surprised her by showing up.

“Yeah, it’s so cool!” April continues excitedly. “A lot of reptiles have cool color changes—like turtles! Did you know some turtles can actually glow underwater? It’s like the light from my glow-in-the-dark stars at home—it helps them see underwater better.”

“I see,” Mom hums interestedly. “Is that why you picked a turtle for your project?” She nods to the small sculpture in her hands.

It was the assignment their science class has been working on all week to finish off their unit: a paper-mache sculpture of a reptile of their choice. It took April quite a few tries—and a lot of hard work and patience—but she was able to make a tiny, flat turtle just in time for their presentation today. She’d painted it her favorite shade of green, with a yellow smile on its face, and a bunch of blue and red hearts on the shell.

“Isn’t it pretty?” April holds it up higher for her mom to give it another look-over. “What do we wanna name it?”

“Hmm, how about ‘April Junior’?”

“No, mom, not a dumb name.”

“Hey, April is a very pretty name, and—oh, nuts,” her mom hesitates for a second, fumbling in her purse for her phone as it suddenly buzzes. “Hold on, sweetie, it’s work, okay?”

“Okay.” April shrugs. Being a neurosurgeon is hard work, so her Mom always gets calls in the middle of their conversations, sometimes even during dinner or their once-a-month nail painting parties. Sure, it sucks, but she’s very used to it so it doesn’t bother her anymore.

She plays with her turtle sculpture, waiting on a sidewalk to cross the road before they walk towards home. There’s a little space right in front of the window on her desk which would be the perfect place to keep it, so her new buddy can watch her while she studies for her reptile quiz on Monday.

April wonders if she should put a little more glue on its foot and paint it a brighter shade of green, hearing her mom talk rapidly over her shoulder to her coworker. And suddenly a motorcycle blares past her, pressing its horn extremely loudly just before the light turns red.

It startles her so badly that she drops her sculpture.

There’s little she can do other than let out a cry as it rolls on the ground, falling straight through an open storm drain under the brick of the old sidewalk.

The crowd around her starts walking across the road, and her mom nudges her to follow as she sweeps past.

“Mom, wait—” April calls, but she’s getting farther away, busy on her phone, the conversation apparently getting heated. She rushes to the drain and crouches, trying to see if she can find it quickly. “Mom, my turtle!”

The timer of the crossing signal starts beeping, the seconds ticking as the people of New York try to weave around a small, random child squatting near a drain.

“Where did she—April!” She hears her mom call from across the street, momentarily distracted from whatever medical emergency she’s supposed to be having. “What are you doing? C’mon, we gotta get home!”

April stares despondently into the dark hole, before another call from her mom has her getting up and running, leaving it behind.

She sniffles, rubbing at her eyes as Mom peers at her questioningly, before getting sucked back into her conversation. The irate tone she talks to the person on the other side with makes April shiver. What’s the point in complaining about her sculpture when the hospital is having a problem? Someone’s life could be in danger, that’s way more serious. Just because she spent all week making the paper mache project doesn’t mean it’s all that important.

They continue walking and stop at another crossing, making their way home like it’s just another day. April sniffles once more, and in her upset, kicks a stray bottle cap into the road.

“Stupid sculpture.” She mumbles looking down. The bottle cap falls onto the road, before rolling backwards into another storm drain right where she's standing.

That’s when April sees it, and if she hadn’t been watching the cap, she would have missed it entirely. There’s some kind of movement in the drain, making her pause. A very slight shadow passes directly over the metal cover of the hole.

And within one blink and the next, her green turtle sculpture is suddenly resting on the grate.

April freezes in shock, before immediately crouching down and picking it up. It’s literally there, just as good as five minutes ago, blue and red hearts and yellow smiley-face and all. The initials A.O. are at the bottom as well.

“Oh my gosh!” She exclaims, grinning bright and happy. “You got it back!” She looks into the hole. “How did you—”

The signal light turns red, and the people begin crossing. Mom tugs on April’s arm without looking as she keeps walking.

“No, wait, I didn’t say thank you!” April says, trying to turn as her mom walks her across the street. There’s nothing noticeable under the sidewalk, the darkness of the drain the same as it's always been.

“Yes, good day to you as well.” She hears Mom say above her, as she ends the call and stuffs her phone back into her purse with a huff. “ Finally, goodness, the one afternoon I get off, everything goes haywire.” She smiles at her, tired. “What happened back there?”

“I—” April begins, having no idea how to explain. She cranes her neck backwards one last time, but the sidewalk gets further and further, disappearing among the people walking behind her. As if nothing had happened.

She grips the turtle tightly. That wasn’t true, though. Someone helped her out when she needed it. She knows it. She saw it.

“Nothing.” April replies to Mom, giving her a convincing smile as she walks, a joyful pep in her step. The sculpture in her hand swings along with her. “Do you wanna hear more about turtles? Ms. Kappernich showed us a list of ten fun facts about turtles after I showed my project to the class!”

Mom pauses for a second, studying her daughter, before shaking her head at her fondly. She bends down and presses a kiss on her hair. “Sure, sweetheart. Tell me about the turtles.”

--

“So one really knows if Rung is going to wake up, right? So everyone on the Lost Light is telling him stories about the time before the war, hoping that’ll jog his memory and get him out of the coma. But then, bam, suddenly the ship’s captain finds Red Alert’s body get fished out of the oil reserve!” April’s babysitter, Lin, blows the hair out of her face as she rants, holding her hand as they walk in the streets of New York. “Gosh, I really hope they get into that in Patternism, because I’ve been dying on that cliffhanger for the last month.”

April only hums in response, not really listening to the rather-passionate Transformers summary. The ten dollar note in her pocket feels heavy, and she’s almost giddy with excitement. The second installment of Jupiter Jim and the Saturn Ring Heist is coming out today! She’s spent the last two months begging her mom to let her go to the comic book store and buy the two-part special, and now that she’s finally got the money for it, she absolutely cannot wait.

The store in question has quite a few people in line, and the two of them dutifully join it. There are a bunch of poster stands around the block, showing the new issues getting released today. Lin points to the big one by the entrance, grinning.

“See, doesn’t the cover look cool? Everyone is here for Transformers, I swear. Wow, I’m glad we got here early, otherwise they would have run out.”

“Hey, you never know,” April says in a sing-song voice. “They might be here for the Jupiter Jim comic.”

Lin smiles at her, and even she can tell how insincere that is. “Sure, kid. Maybe.”

They make their way inside, and Lin lets go of her hand, distracted by a life-sized cardboard cut-out of Orion Pax, behind which is a display of all the new comics, a bunch of teenagers already oohing and ahhing around it.

“Okay, hun, I’ll be right back, alright?” Her babysitter says, not even looking at April, already turned towards her item of interest. “I’m just gonna grab Patternism and meet you at check-out, got it?”

“Yep!” April says happily, before walking off.

Irritatingly enough, the JJ section of the store is all the way at the back, and she has to fight through the young crowd to get there. She huffs, trying to read the titles in the low light, the wire shelves creaking ominously as she peruses on her tippy-toes. Ugh, it’s like no one has the appreciation for the awesomeness for Master of the Seven Galaxies here.

She sees the shiny cover of Jupiter Jim and the Saturn Ring Heist Part 1, and she grabs it immediately, eyes wide. The drawings on it are absolutely beautiful, and Jim looks amazing.

“Can I help you with somethin’, kid?” A voice asks, and she turns to see a somewhat-harassed woman looking down at her, trying to maintain her customer-service smile. “Looking for the second part to this one? It just came out today.”

“Yes, please!” April says excitedly. “I’m such a big fan of JJ!”

She does not hear her, already striding away, muttering to herself as she digs through the issues on the shelf. It takes a few minutes before she frowns.

“Oh, I’m sorry, honey, I was sure there was one last copy left for today.” She says, giving her a contrite look. “But someone must have taken it when I wasn’t looking. I think you’ll have to come back later for the second part, okay?”

“Aw,” she says disappointedly, not even bothering to tsk when the woman pats her on the head patronizingly and leaves to help another customer. Dang it.

Still, she has the first comic, and if there’s one thing about April O’Neil, it’s that she’d much rather focus on the thing that makes her happy now, than sad later.

Check-out is over quickly, and soon she’s walking out with Lin, holding her brand-new possession carefully in its sealed plastic cover.

“And I was talking to one of the other fans in there, and apparently there’s going to be a bomb in this issue? I’m so excited.” Lin says as they’re leaving, watching her for a reaction. Dutifully, April looks appropriately invested.

“That sounds so cool, I’m excited too—”

Somebody slams into April’s shoulder, completely toppling her. The unexpected impact makes the comic fall from her hands.

“Apes!” Lin gasps out, checking over her once quickly before turning to the culprit, two young boys skateboarding through the busy street. “What the heck are you two doing? Have you never learned to be more careful?”

April can’t hear her though, because she just saw her precious new belonging fall right through a metal grate on the ground lining the edge of the building. Gone to the outside world.

Shock and tears make a quick appearance, the pain from the small bruise on her elbow following up soon. Distantly, she can hear her babysitter chewing out the two boys, who mumble some sort of apology to her. But she’s barely paying attention.

April sniffs, feeling betrayed at the existence of sewer grates. That book cost her five whole dollars! She was so excited to read it! Mom kept saying that comics were a waste of time and money, but she’d fought so hard to get here today. And now she turned out to be right.

A few more adults get swept up in the drama Lin stirs up with the boys, who are now transitioning from looking guilty to looking uncomfortable. That’s fine with her, she'd much rather not be the center of attention if she’s crying in public.

And then something miraculous happens, and through her blurry eyes April watches even if the people around her are too busy to notice.

Through the slats of the grate, her comic gets slowly pushed, pushed, pushed upwards, until it lands on the surface in one damp thwack .

She rushes to pick it up, stunned, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. The sealed plastic slip took most of the water damage, a few rotten leaves covering the cover and smelling vaguely of dirt, but the actual book looks perfectly fine.

She looks back to the gutter, unable to see a single person down there. Still, she crouches down, unbelievably happy.

“Thank you!” She says, pitching her voice low, but she can hear the echo in the space below. “I can’t believe you got it back, this was my first comic ever! Oh, and thank you for helping me with the turtle too!”

“April, honey, are you okay?” Lin asks, and she looks up to see her worried face as she bends down next to her. She brushes some of the hair off her face, trying to look for injuries. “Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine!” April says brightly, the remainder of the tears blinked away. “The comic got a little wet, but it’s still in the plastic, so it’s all good!”

Lin grins in relief, helping her up. She has her own comic stuffed in the deep pocket of her jacket, and she reaches out to tightly grab her hand as they continue walking back home. April follows, skipping giddily.

--

It’s a rainy day in November, and April forgot her umbrella at home.

Class let out five minutes ago, and everyone is busy rushing to the pick up spot at the school entrance. But between the people with their bulky raincoats, the big umbrellas that take up so much space, and the rain covering her glasses, April can’t seem to make her way to the front of the building.

So she’s stuck under a small canopy off to the side, wrapping her jacket tightly around her to protect her from the cold, and trying to make conversation with the other person that picked the spot as well.

“So, how did you do on the math test today?” April tentatively asks the blonde girl.

She huffs, face peeking out from a soft white scarf over a neon pink puffer. “It was so hard for no reason! Why did our teacher make the exam so long? I could barely finish it in time.”

She blinks in response. It was actually a very easy test. “Oh. Wasn’t it just ten questions, though?”

Blondie sends her a withering glare, and she immediately backtracks. “Uh, I mean, I’m sure it was long! Ten questions is a lot— I mean, even I barely finished in time!”

Blatant lie, but it seems to ease the irritation on the girl’s face. “Right? I hate math.” She sniffs importantly, looking at April over her nose. “I don’t know you. Are you new here?”

April brightens up and introduces herself, immediately jumping into a ramble about moving to this borough a couple of months ago with her mother and Jorge, her advanced learning classes, and her Jupiter Jim fanaticism. But the more she talks, the less interested Blondie seems to look.

Once she gets into her dust allergy from her old apartment in the Bronx, she cuts her off.

“Okay, yeah, that’s cool, I guess.” She interrupts abruptly, tone bland. “I’m Taylor Martin. My dad is the vice principal.”

“Oh, that’s… so nice!” April scrambles for more things to say, giddy at finally having a conversation with one of the cool girls in her class. “Does he, uh. Let you stay back at school a lot because of his work?”

Taylor scoffs annoyedly again. “No , he usually has someone pick me up, but they’re late, so I’m stuck here.” She adjusts her bright purple backpack that’s slipping off her shoulder, a scrutinizing look on her face. “What does your dad do?”

She blinks once again. “Uh. I just have a mom, actually. She’s a neurosurgeon.”

“A what?”

The loud sound of a horn beeping startles both of them. A giant SUV cuts in front of the line of cars already assembled to pick up students, and a man rolls down his window, disregarding the indignant shouts and horns of the parents around him.

“Ugh, finally,” Taylor rolls her eyes. She gives April a perfunctory smile and a half-wave. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Angel.”

“Uh, bye! It’s April, actually, and tomorrow’s a Saturday—” But Taylor’s already gone, walking away and accidentally shoving two tinier kids on her way to her car.

April watches her go, and despite the glares of the unfortunate victims, she’s grinning brightly after her. She knows a popular girl now! And Angel is pretty close to April, so she knows her name, mostly, which is such a win.

What isn’t a win is the fact that now other cars are following Taylor’s driver’s example, and cutting people out of line on the road. Which is leading the parents already in line to try bumping up their own place, all while there’s a cacophony of beeps and exclamations on the street. April winces as it all turns into a mess, students scrambling to run after their parents’ cars.

Alright, well, it seems like her mother is going to be late after all. The rain doesn’t seem to be letting up any, and the ongoing traffic on the streets is slowing down because of the chaos in front of her.

April hefts up her backpack stubbornly. That’s fine. She’ll just walk home like a big girl.

She starts on her journey, which turns out to be not that long at all. Because as soon as she gets into the rain and makes a left, she somehow manages to slip on a giant puddle, limbs flailing dramatically. In a failed effort to catch herself before she’s thrown onto the street, she falls into an alleyway, scraping her knee on some metal.

April yelps loudly at the searing pain, her shout getting drowned out by yet another loud horn. She tries to sit up straight, shaking off the droplets on her glasses, backpack falling behind her, trying to study her injury. The cut isn’t long, but it is deep, as blood seeps out, burning with each new drop of rain that falls on her.

She hisses once more, the sound bordering on a whine, as she glares at the offending object. A rusted metal drainpipe seems to be the culprit, dirty water from the roof of her school building dripping into a drain next to her.

“Ow,” she groans, thumbing the edges of the wound gingerly to try to wipe the blood off. In all her nine-year-old righteousness, she deems this circumstance appropriate for her limited cursing allowance, when she exclaims loudly, “Darn it!”

The thunder does not crash down and smite her for the offense, but April’s ears do perk up at the sound of shuffling near her.

She twists around, but there’s no one in the alley to make the sound. The people walking on the sidewalk are smarter than her and avoid the giant puddle, so it couldn’t have been them either.

The sound gets louder, and as April tenses, she swears she hears quiet talking. Coming straight from the drain.

Heart in her throat, she leans towards the grate. As always, she can see no one in the darkness, but she tries, “Hello?”

The talking stops abruptly, and she immediately rushes to explain.

“No, no, it’s okay, don’t worry!” She says, hands held up even though she’s sure the Sewer-Man can’t see her. “I’m not going to tell on you, pinky promise. Don’t leave.”

There aren’t any sounds of pitter-patter of footsteps, so she assumes he didn’t. She grins.

“Sorry for disturbing you.” April tries, twiddling her fingers in her lap shyly, desperately trying to think of what to say to the literal Sewer-Man after thinking about him for so long . “I just—I was walking back from school, and I tripped and fell. And I hurt myself.” She huffs at herself. “Dumb, right?”

She gets no response, much to her disappointment. Boo. In her annoyance at the situation she’s stuck in, she debates just leaving it there, starting to get up, wondering how quickly she can get home while limping.

When she sees movement once again, the same way she had twice before, she perks up. She immediately drops to all-fours, close to the ground, not wanting to miss a single thing.

Ever so slowly, a small box makes its way to the top, held up by the Sewer-Man for her to pick up. She does, turning it over in her hands, grin getting impossibly wider.

“Spider-Man Band-Aids!” She exclaims, touched. He cares! “Aw, thank you so much!”

April makes quick work of picking one and carefully applying it over her wound, not missing how the box is practically empty. She smooths a hand over the bandage, making sure it sticks well.

“Here,” She warns, before dropping it down the drain. Finally standing up and carefully keeping the weight off the injured leg, she picks up her backpack.

She catches sight of one of the school security guards trying to guide the foot traffic in the area, and decides to leave before they catch her with the Sewer-Man.

“Thank you so much!” April injects as much gratitude and excitement in her voice as she can. “I have to go now, but I’ll see you later, okay?”

She still doesn’t get a response, but it bothers her less this time around. If she hears some more quiet shuffling and whispering as she walks away, well, no one has to be the wiser.

--

“Hey, Mom?”

“Hmm?”

“What was my dad like?” April asks innocently, and her mother trips over her own two feet as she walks alongside her.

“Uh,” Mom responds eloquently, looking down at her with wide eyes. “Why do you ask?”

She shrugs delicately, eyes on the road as she holds her hand, the two of them heading to her school for a PT meeting. “Someone from my math class asked me about my dad on Friday. Her dad is the vice principal. What did mine do?”

A melancholy expression crosses over Mom’s face for barely a moment, before it’s replaced by the ever-present Carol O’Neil alacrity. She hums, thinking.

“Your father… was a journalist.” She says, a bit of softness in her voice. “Very smart, very talented. Like you.” Mom squeezes her hand, and April beams. “I met him at a medical convention in Boston. He was going to write a piece on it. Asked me some questions about my work and my field, and we just… hit it off.”

Mom looks happy, but it’s a strange kind of happiness to it, half-soured by something sad, like loss.

“Can I ask… what happened to him?” April asks quietly, genuinely not sure.

Her mother gives her an even sadder look. “Of course, you can ask, sweetie. He’s your dad. Or, well,” she swallows, looking away, muttering, “he was. May he rest in peace.”

She doesn’t say a word in response, waiting. Mom takes another breath, before continuing, “When I was pregnant with you, he was diagnosed with cancer. We tried a lot of things. Chemotherapy, surgery—I’ve told you about chemotherapy, haven’t I?”

“It’s a medicine that kills the bad cancer cells in your body.” April recites, as Mom gives her a satisfied smile.

“Exactly, baby. But sometimes, chemotherapy has bad side effects, and it makes the body even weaker. Sometimes it doesn’t even work.”

“Is that how he died?”

“Yeah.” Her mother’s staring intently at feet, face purposefully impassive, and April can tell she’s hiding many things behind it. “It was… a rough six months. There were a lot of treatments, and some of those can be so painful, but your dad took it all like a champ. He talked about how excited he was for you to grow up and see the world, and he wanted to be there for it so much. But being sick was just… too hard on him.”

April isn’t sure if it’s grief she feels in her chest; the sad bubble that rises up seems both too small and not small enough. She never really even knew the man, but her mom always says that she can see him in her eyes. She has very, very faint memories of visiting a grave, she thinks. A black marble stone sunk into the ground, small shrubs and flowers around it.

“I’m sorry.” Mom says gently. “It’s my fault I don’t talk about him or take you to see him anymore. You should know more about your dad. He is a very important person in your life, even if he is in a better place now.”

“Okay.” April thinks, shooting her a genuine smile as she hugs her shoulders again.

They make it to the school and walk inside. The PT conference goes well, as all the teachers gush and glow about April’s excellent performance, which is as good of a mood-booster as any. For every time she hears the words ‘a delight to have in class’, she adds another dollar to her comic book money jar. And by the end of the day, she’s certain she could buy the entire Mars Madness trilogy.

There’s one last meeting her mother has with her English teacher, which they have to have privately, and Mom shoos her out of the room.

Just as she planned, April thinks with a grin.

Quietly, without alerting the security guards, she sneaks out of the building and makes a left, back to the alleyway with the rusted metal pipe and drain.

She twists her hands nervously, setting off her backpack to the side and kneeling next to the sewer grate. Clearing her throat, she calls, “Hello?”

To her marvel, she immediately hears footsteps from below. Giddy beyond belief, and yet having a brief thought as to what on earth Sewer-Man does all day if he’s just hanging out near school drainage systems, she continues, “Hi! Are you there? It’s me again, the one you gave the Band-Aid to.”

He doesn’t say a word, but that's fine. She understands that Sewer-Man’s generally quiet, she can respect that. Mom always says it’s rude to force people who’d rather not talk.

“I, uh. Hope you’re having a good day,” All her politeness lessons on full display, she thinks wryly. “I brought something for you, actually.”

April reaches into her backpack and pulls out a giant Cadbury bar. She had to beg and plead with her mother for this on her weekly grocery run. It’s a miracle her grades are good and her teeth have no cavities, so she had no reason to say no.

“I told my mom I got hurt on a pipe on Friday, and someone gave me a Band-Aid,” she says. “Mom said it was a good thing they did, because if a cut from a rusted metal pipe isn’t wrapped properly, it can turn into worse things like an infection. It’s called tetanus, she said—you probably know what that is. So I wanted to give you this. As a thank you.”

She waves the candy bar over the grate as a warning, before dropping it through the grate. She doesn’t hear the tell-tale sound of it hitting the ground, so it must’ve landed in his hands.

“…I hope you like it!” April finishes lamely. The chocolate was a calculated risk; hopefully he wasn’t allergic to cocoa or had a lactose-intolerance. She didn’t want to be the reason he’d have to go to the hospital and reveal his identity!

Her ears pick up hushed talking again, and she hears hurried footsteps away, so she thinks that’s it. Which is more than fine, she did what she’d planned to do.

“I’m leaving now, okay?” She calls, standing up and picking up her backpack. “And don’t worry, I haven’t told anyone about you yet, so your secret’s safe with me!”

April automatically goes to wave, before realizing he probably can’t see her, and turns away.

Just then, she hears a metal clang from the sewer which makes her jump. Gripping the straps of her backpack tightly, she slowly turns back around.

“Yes?”

Eyes on the grate, she sees what looks like a… plastic baggie, being pushed up from under. She wastes no time before plucking it out of his hands, confusedly reading the Whole Foods logo on the front.

She opens her mouth to ask, before she feels the bulge of something inside it. She looks.

It’s the second installment of Jupiter Jim and the Saturn Ring Heist.

April gasps, dropping the baggie as she holds the treasure with both of her hands. It’s a well-worn copy, not really new, but not really old, with no creases on any of the pages. As if the Sewer-Man understands the sanctity of a JJ comic the same way she does. She does pick up a whiff of pepperoni while she flips through the pages, but pays absolutely no mind to it in her excitement.

“Oh my gosh!” She practically yells, hopping on her tippy-toes out of happiness. “It’s the second part! You remembered! How did you have it on you?” The lack of a response barely deters her, and she leans over the drain with her whole blinding grin, disregarding her vow to herself not to find out who he is. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

She puts it in her backpack, further rambling about how she swears not to get any folds in the paper and keep it away from any food, when she hears a call. “April!”

“Oh, dang it.” She stills, voice dropping to a whisper. “That’s my mom. I gotta go.” She takes a step back, still grinning at the sewer grate. “I’ll see you later! Thanks again!”

This time, she gets another metal clang as a response, an acknowledgement, or maybe even a promise. She’s radiating with joy when her mother finds her, confused why her only child looking at an alleyway metal pipe with such glee.

--

April O’Neil is sneaking out into New York City alone.

Okay, that sounds way worse than it is, she winces to herself, walking on silent feet. The evening sun shines on her back as she crosses the street, looking not only both ways, but all the ways. Making sure absolutely no one follows her on her secret mission, a Whole Foods baggie in tow.

Here’s what it actually is: this morning, she told her mother that her newest and closest friend Taylor invited her to hang out with her in the school building after hours. Mom had interrogated her with the firmness of Jupiter Jim when he caught aliens stealing his moon chips, while April primly informed her that her vice principal dad would be looking after them while they had fun, and would drop her off to the apartment at 5 P.M. sharp, just before Mom got home. Once she’d heard that a responsible adult would be in the mix, she dropped her daughter at school, kissed her goodbye through the window, and promptly left for work.

Okay, maybe it really was just that bad. Bluntly lying about her whereabouts to her own mother is not something April has ever done before, but never let it be said that she takes it lightly! She understands the risks that come with it, and the responsibility she’s taking on herself.

It’s just that… well. She wants to be like her dad, for once.

April has been using up her two-hour free pass to her mother’s computer for the last few days scouring the internet for any articles authored by Kirby O’Neil in the past. Some are about sports, some about world affairs, but a lot are in the medical field, especially after the year he met her mother. The big words go over her head and make her vision swim.

But in all of those articles, it seems one thing is in common: her father spared no detail in any of the things he talked about. She came to the conclusion very quickly after her tiny fingers could not scroll far enough to reach the end of one of his papers without getting dizzy.

Sparing no detail meant finding out all the information. Finding out all the information meant going looking for that information. And going looking for it, meant that April O’Neil was about to find out just who the heck the Sewer-Man was, and personally return the comic book back to him.

And also possibly gush about just how amazing Jim was and how he managed to find out about the ring heist and impossibly save the day again. That too.

The only problem in her amazingly thought-out plan is that she needs to find an entrance into the sewers. All of the grates and drains are far too small, and the sewer manholes are far too heavy. Which is why she’s being extremely sneaky as she explores all of Manhattan, alone, like the big, grown-up girl that she is.

She just hopes her mother does not find out about this. Ever.

A few more minutes of searching, and a few extra confusing rights and lefts later, April comes across an area of the road completely marked off with ‘do not cross ’ tapes and orange cones. Coming closer, she sees that it’s a sinkhole, the support of the road having crumbled and the asphalt sliding into the underground.

Or more accurately, based on the smell of stale water and dirt, into the sewers.

Perfect.

She grips her baggie tightly, excitement making butterflies flutter in her stomach, as she tiptoes towards the hole, ducking under the tape. There doesn’t seem to be anyone around her, she doesn’t think. The cars on the street are too fast and the adults on the sidewalk are too self-absorbed to notice a tiny child going where she shouldn’t be, so she feels fairly safe.

She scoots a little further into the sunken road, before she calls out as quietly as she can, “Hello?”

Silence. She goes further in, getting a little louder. “Hi, it’s me again! Are you there?”

This time, she’s sure she hears some footsteps, and she grins, inhaling to yell a jubilant ‘hello’ to the Sewer-Man, mentally rehearsing the introduction she’d prepped in her head.

“Just what do you think you’re doin’, young lady?”

April freezes.

She doesn’t have to turn around to see that the footsteps she was hearing weren’t from the sewers, they were from a man, who quickly makes himself known by stepping directly into her line of sight. He’s tall, wearing a bright neon green vest over a sweatshirt and a yellow construction hat. He looks gruff, with a thick moustache and even thicker frown lines on his forehead.

He folds his hands and stares down at her. “I asked you a question.”

“Uh—nothing, sir.” She squeaks out, trying not to make her anxiety at being caught too obvious by the twiddling of her fingers.

“Hmm. Doesn’t look like nothin’ to me.” He huffs. “What’s your name?”

“April O’Neil.” Which, darn it . She’s not supposed to give her name to strangers.

“Well, Ms. O’Neil . What say you and I take a little walk down to the police station and figure out where your parents are?”

Her eyes widen in terror and she holds her hands up. “Wait, no! Please, you can’t tell my mom, she’ll get really mad. I’m actually supposed to be at school, playing with my friend Taylor—Thanksgiving break is tomorrow so there’s no actual classes, but her dad’s the vice principal, and we were supposed to be hanging out, but—”

“Well, if you didn’t want your mom to get mad, then you shouldn’t have left.” He cuts her rambling off, the words hitting right where she feels her guilt the strongest, unable to help the wave of shame rising in her.

She hesitates a bit more, thinking of what words to say to convince him that no, she’s actually trying to find a superhero and use her dad’s journalistic skills here, this is really important to her and he should let her go because she’s definitely never going to sneak out without telling someone again. But eventually, she sighs in defeat. Whatever, too late. Let the punishment of the century begin.

“Okay.” April mumbles with her head ducked down, determined not to show how hard her lips are quivering. Her grip on her comic book—her friend’s comic book—is stronger than ever. She hopes Mom doesn’t take it away when she grounds her, she’ll never be able to give it back.

“Hm, good. Now, c’mon, walk with me. Don’t dawdle.”

She doesn’t, matching the man’s gait as he leads her away from the construction zone. She turns back one more time with blurry eyes, wishing she was more careful and less loud so she wouldn’t have been caught, hoping to actually meet her friend in person. And she almost misses the sight of a bright red cloth in the darkness.

She blinks, but the man’s gruff tone makes her turn back around again, quietly walking alongside him.

“Y’know, kid. I don’t blame ya.” He starts, as he brings out a cigarette and a lighter from his pocket. April tries to keep in her disgusted look as he lights it and smoke puffs out of his face. “When I was young, all I wanted to do was run away from home. Sneak out to new places, explore different things. Have fun. But sometimes, life ain’t that simple. You get me?”

“Yes, sir.” She says dully, barely paying attention as they turn onto a laneway devoid of any cars, walking on the street instead of the broken sidewalks.

“Trust me.” He says between two puffs of smoke, and she discreetly moves away to breathe through her mouth. “No one wants to get lost in those damn sewers. Nothin’ good lives down there.”

A flash of possessive anger flares up in her, and she bites her lip to keep from speaking. She glares down at her own hands, and the comic she still carries in her Whole Foods baggie.

“Yeah, the only things down there are the homeless, or rats. You don’t want to deal with rats, do you, kid? They’re filthy, disgusting creatures, and they carry all the diseases that infect the world, and— ow!”

The man yells so loudly it makes April jump. He whips around, one hand rubbing the back of his neck as if something small but hard hit him there, a thunderous expression on his face.

“Who’s there?” He shouts.

The only things there are the shadows casted on the abandoned road from the evening light, and he doesn’t get a response.

“What happened?” She asks meekly. He makes an irritated sound, continuing his journey.

“Some dumb teenagers probably. Little freaks just wanting to make everyone’s life miserable. All I ask for is one day of peace— one day, without having to watch over any kids that aren’t where they aren’t supposed to be or aren’t doin’ what they aren’t supposed to be doin’—”

April goes back to her quiet staring at the road, simmering with rage, and she gets the first-row seat to see it happen. From yet another storm drain under the sidewalk they’re walking next to, a long stick emerges, tied with what looks like purple silk in the middle.

And just as the man approaches, the stick slams itself into his foot, and topples him mid-stride.

He goes down screeching, and April backs up before he drags her down with him with his thrashing arms. He slams the bottom of his chin on the harsh ground, managing to cut his upper lip, and she winces as she sees his mouth quickly fill up with blood.

The man curses to the high heavens, and she half-expects thunder to actually smite him. She doesn’t wait long enough to find out, though, having gotten her chance.

April turns on her foot, and starts running like her life depends on it.

“Hey! Kid! Get back here, you little ungrateful brat—”

She pauses for a second at that, and he starts getting louder.

“Yeah, I said it, ungrateful brat. Now come and help me up, and I’m turning you in so you can go back to wherever you belong!”

She takes a couple of small steps back as the man glares at her, trying to pick himself up. But instead of helping him, she looks him in the eye, raises her foot, and stomps out the still-burning cigarette. And flees.

April speeds away, heart hammering in her chest, leaping over cracks in the concrete, and slipping in between pedestrians on the street. Her baggie swings with each leap and bound, and she can’t help but whoop as she goes.

Because she’s certain she’s not imagining the drum of footfalls directly under her. Running with her. Like kids dashing across a field in joyful glee. If it weren’t for the lies or the misdemeanors or the layer of thick concrete between them, that is.

The last rays of the sun guide her path back to the area of the city she recognizes, and she immediately picks up her pace, eventually leading the Sewer-Man with her to her apartment complex.

She finally slows down when she can see her building clearly, gasping in deep breaths, not used to the intense physical activity. Instead of going inside though, she trudges behind the building, past the trees and brick walls, until she sees a small drainpipe and grate at the back.

April plops onto the ground with a ‘whew’, and before she can help it, a hysterical laugh bubbles up her throat. She can feel her pulse thudding in every part of her body as she wipes the sweat off her brow.

“That. Was. Insane.” She punches out the words, grinning. “That was such a close call. He was gonna turn me into the police, and then my mom would have grounded me for life. But you saved me!” April gestures to the drain, confident that the Sewer-Man is there listening to her, in a way she’s never been. “You got me out of that. Thank you, dude.”

A pause, and then she hears a new metal clang, tinnier than the one before because of the different metal, yet April giggles happily, sighing. Gosh, sometimes the way her life turns out surprises her.

“You know,” she begins thoughtfully a moment later, “I know the man said some really mean stuff about people that stay in the sewers, but I hope you know I don’t think so at all. I think sewer people can be pretty cool.”

April really needs him to understand that, because that’s basically her way of saying ‘you are really awesome-sauce and you like JJ like me and can I be your real friend from now?’. But she’s unfortunately too nervous to tell him all of that, now or ever, she admits to herself, her hands in her lap.

But she thinks he hears all of that anyway, because the next instance she hears another clang, this time a lot closer to the surface. She peers at the drain curiously, before something gets chucked out of the tiny slats of the small drain.

April fumbles to catch it, and gasps when she sees what it is. It’s a coin, bright gold with red ribbon threading through a hole in the center. She brings it closer to her face, letting out an ‘ooh’, studying the engravings of a stock of wheat curving around the hole.

“Wow! This looks so cool!” She gushes, looking back at the Sewer-Man with wide eyes. “Is this… for me?”

That seems unbelievably unrealistic. Sure, she’s had friends back in the Bronx, but none of them were the kind to give her pretty things just because. They were more so the kind to give her a Batman t-shirt for her birthday a size too small, a candy bar with almonds despite her nut allergy, or just straight up completely forget her birthday altogether. Needless to say, there wasn’t too much love lost when she moved away.

This is… far too kind.

Another metal clang, and April would be stupid to not recognize it as a resounding ‘yes’.

“Oh.” She says, her lips now wobbling again but for a completely different reason. “That’s so sweet. Thank you.”

Two clangs in quick succession, and she can’t help but place a sweet voice in it that says ‘you’re welcome!’

From the corner of her eye, she notices a car drive up the street, headlights on. It’s her mother, coming back home, expecting April to just have been dropped off at home by Taylor’s dad.

She blows air out between her teeth. Well. Time to put all her acting skills to use.

“My mom’s back. I gotta tell her about how I wasn’t on the other side of town and was at school instead.” She sighs, but smiles at the drain. Reaching out, she knocks three times on the grate, hearing the echo from under.

“Bye. I’ll see you later.” She puts the coin in her pocket, feeling the weight like a warm balm on her skin. “And I promise to keep this, okay? I won’t lose it.”

Another clang, a goodbye, and April gets up to go greet Mom.

--

“Alright,” April breathes, looking at herself in her mirror. There is a determination on her brow and optimism in her eyes, as she ties her braids up and tucks them into a plaid hat. For all intents and purposes, she is no less than a tried and true journalist at the moment, and being dressed like her mother’s favorite character Sherlock Holmes doesn’t hurt either. There’s a picture of his magnifying glass on her t-shirt, over which she’s wearing her long winter coat.

She nudges her glasses up on her nose, giving herself an excited smirk. A bona-fide investigator.

“Jorge, I’m nervous.” April admits, holding up the giraffe and seriously looking him in the eye. His limbs flop in the air. “I’m finally going to go see the Sewer-Man, and this time I’m not gonna get caught.”

Jorge looks at her with the same dopey smile he had when she bought him at the superstore, his glassy eyes showing weird reflections of her own face. Still, she imagines him saying something encouraging, along the lines of ‘you got this!’

“You’re right. I do got this.” She confirms, before chucking him on the bed and grabbing the comic book from her bedside table. “I’m going to give him back his comic, and I’m going to shake his hand and tell him he’s cool, and then we’re going to be the best buds ever!”

Mom says affirmations are important for self-esteem, and since April really, really wants this to go well, she’s going to follow her advice to the T.

She ignores the voice in her mind that tells her she’s being extremely picky about which of her mother’s advice she’s choosing to listen to, as she opens her bedside table drawer and takes the spare key she’d swiped earlier, and walks out of the apartment. The biggest thing her mother trusts her to do is to stay in the apartment no matter what when she isn’t home and Lin is too busy to babysit. And normally, she does do that.

But right now, she has other priorities. Like making a new friend.

She’ll deal with the consequences later.

The plan being set in motion has been extremely well thought-out, and April can’t help but be smug about it. Over the last three weeks, she’s made Lin take her to at least seven different parks around the city, with the excuse of being so bored with staying at home and watching movies. Sneaking away when she was busy on her phone or listening to podcasts hadn’t been too hard either, all for the purpose of mapping out a better, more discreet entrance to the sewers.

She eventually managed to find one not too far from home: in an alley between a small playground with a dilapidated swing set, and a pizza with extremely stinky cheese, is a giant manhole that doesn't have a cover. Covered in moss and city grime, it’s not in a place where anyone in their right mind would go at all.

Except April.

And that is where she stands now, having made her way there with the stealth of ten ninjas (who are also super cool, no matter how hard Taylor laughed in class when she mentioned it to her), armed with her Whole Foods bag and a flashlight.

Carefully coming close, she shines the light down into the darkness, and spies an old ladder going down. The rungs look fairly clean and shiny actually, which pings April’s journalistic senses as a sign of activity down there.

Holding the small flashlight in her mouth, she slowly lowers herself into the hole, each step measured as she climbs down the ladder, inhaling the scent of stale water and moss and stinky cheese.

There is a loud echo in the silent tunnel as her feet make contact with the floor, and she immediately turns her light onto her surroundings. The realization of exploring in pitch-black darkness crashes into her at once, and her heart jumps up to her throat. She sees that she’s on a wide walkway, and right next to her is a giant canal of water, rushing away at a speed higher than she’s comfortable with.

She takes in one deep breath followed by another. Well, she’s made it this far. Can’t back out now.

April starts to walk.

“Hello?” She says, barely a whisper, yet the creepy echo freaks her out enough to stay completely silent. Not that there seems to be a single sign of life down there to come and capture her even if she was loud; other than vague bits of trash and the sound of rushing water, it really does seem like April is in the middle of nowhere, as the light from the manhole cover fades away. All she’s left with is the small circle made by her flashlight.

Maybe this wasn’t such a great idea.

It takes April all her strength to not freeze and run away, forcing herself to be brave. Like Jim in Jupiter Jim’s Pluto Vacation I. Pluto didn’t have any light either when he landed, because of how far it was from the Sun. But he still forged his way forward, creating his own dream vacation destination so he could meet new aliens and have fun with them. That’s basically what she’s doing too, right?

It takes her a little longer to notice in her terror, but the amount of stuff spread out over the walkway starts to get more and more. She kicks away a broken bulb, which rolls away into a pile of gray scrap clothing. Food wrappers and scrap papers line the edges of the walls, among broken gadgets and screws littering the area.

A faint glow greets her from afar, and in her relief she runs towards it, finally seeing some semblance of existence.

“Fairy lights?” April says out loud in surprise, stopping to study them curiously. Pretty, incandescent bulbs are strung on the ceiling, lighting a path along the tunnel.

She switches off her flashlight, mesmerized by the liminal space she’s found herself in. The world gets brighter and a lot less foreboding. Less like Pluto when Jim found it, and more like his home planet. Warm and welcoming.

The farther she walks, she starts to see drawings on the walls around her. Splotches of color, both in crayons and spray paints. Streaks of red and blue and purple and orange, among other simple designs. It reminds her a little of the walls at her old kindergarten when kids used to take pencils to the painted white walls. In her awe, April gently rests her hand on an artwork of a giant bright sun, made of all yellows and gold, and her palm comes away sticky with paint.

It was brand new. She gulps; gripping the bag in her hand tightly. Her journalistic instinct is screaming at her.

The screams go absolutely supersonic when April hears a gasp behind her, and a clatter of something to the ground. She whips her head around.

And she sees another child like her.

That’s her first thought, and her only thought, because once her eyes register the green skin and red stripes and blue bandana and the lack of a nose bridge , her brain fills with shocked static.

She stares at the kid, who stares back with wide eyes. One of his feet is braced forward, his weight on his back foot, knee slightly bent and torso forward. She vaguely realizes it’s supposed to be a kind of defensive posture, his fists balled up and arms up to his chest—is that a plastron-shell?

The only thing that jarrs her out of this bizarre situation is when something rolls and nudges her foot. She tears her sight away, and looks down to see a small figurine.

“O-oh, Red Fox!” April blurts out hysterically, since apparently that is the first thing she says when she encounters a bipedal turtle-child. “I love Red Fox. So much.”

Blue-Bandana blinks at her once, twice. Before he grins, and it transforms his entire face. He relaxes his posture, now looking less like he’s going to roundhouse-kick her in her face, instead looking genuinely happy.

“I love Red Fox too!” His young voice exclaims cheerfully. “She’s the best!”

April hesitantly smiles back. Okay, a Red Fox fan couldn’t be all that bad. “She is. She was so cool in the Adventure to the Neptune Core movie.”

“She was!” He agrees excitedly, like he is absolutely ecstatic to have someone to talk to about it. “Did you see how she kicked the blue alien’s butt in the end? She was all like, ‘hi-yah!’”

In a demonstration, he performs a near-perfect jumping split kick, managing to get a height almost as tall as her. She rounds her mouth in admiration, clapping when he lands.

“That was so cool. How did you do that?”

“Thanks!” He practically glows at the praise. “My dad taught me that.”

“Can your dad teach me?”

“Sure! He’s really good at jumping stuff. Then we can both be like Red Fox!”

April opens her mouth to ask him if he knows any of Jupiter Jim’s iconic moves, before a voice cuts over them, “Leo?”

Standing behind Leo are three other turtle-children of various sizes, equal expressions of shock on their faces, even as the two try to hide behind the tallest one. One of them leans on a staff while the other two have different figurines and toys in their hands. They were clearly coming back from some kind of playtime.

The tallest one, who’s wearing a white helmet and a bright red hoodie, gulps loudly, looking quite scared as he points a finger at April. “Um—?”

April takes a chance, mood bolstered at the lack of hostility from the people she’d jumped in on unwelcomed, and waves. “Hello, it’s nice to meet you!”

“Guys,” Blue-Bandana, or Leo, she guesses, gestures to her giddily, “it’s April O’Neil!”

A moment, and all three of them relax their shoulders from their ears (or lack thereof, she supposes). The smaller one with the orange mask still hides shyly behind him though, one large, innocent eye peering at her.

Still, April gapes at the side of Leo’s head. “What? How do you know my name?”

“You said it.” White-Helmet said with a snaggletooth grin. Adorable. “When the mean man came to take you, you said your name in front of us.”

“You were there?” She vaguely recalls seeing something red in the dark, but that had happened so long ago. That’s so strange, she’s sure the only person that had been there was…

“Oh, and hey, you got my comic book back!” He continues, eyes on the cover peeking out from the baggie.

He takes a step forward to grab it, but April backs up immediately, hiding it from view. “No, no, this is not yours. It belongs to the Sewer-Man. I came to give it back to him.”

He halts, cocking his head at an angle. “The what?”

Another voice pipes up, the turtle wearing the purple hoodie and glasses, looking at her peculiarly. “That is ours. We gave it to you in exchange for the candy bar, remember?”

“Ooh, yes, thank you for the candy bar!” White-Helmet says happily. “Dad doesn’t let us eat sugar past four o’clock, and I get hungry in the middle of the night.”

April studies him, studies all of them. She looks at the staff Glasses is holding, a familiar stick with purple silk tied to the middle. Leo seems to scratch his head in confusion, the movement lifting up his bandana, and she spies a Spider-Man Band-Aid on his head. She thinks about the whispering she’d heard from the sewer grates, always assuming her ‘friend’ was just talking to himself. Thinks about the footsteps she’d thought were echoing loudly from below; had they been there more than just echoes, and in fact, multiple people?

The dots connect slower than her journalistic instincts would like to admit, but eventually she reaches a realization. “Oh. You guys are the Sewer-Man!”

Well, mystery solved. In a completely different way than she’d expected, but she did it! Kudos to her, she hopes Dad is proud, wherever he is.

“What is the ‘Sewer-Man’? He sounds like a superhero!” Leo jokes. “Did you think we were superheroes?”

“Yeah.” She admits, not even remotely feeling embarrassed at being wrong, not when none of them seem to be judging her at all. “I thought you guys were cool, and superheroes are cool. So, you know”

White-Helmet’s eyes actually water up, curling up his hands to his chest. “You think we’re cool? That’s so sweet.”

“Heck yeah!” That she’s sure of. “You guys like comic books and give me bandages when I’m hurt. That’s as cool as you can get.”

Three turtles ‘aww’ in unison, Glasses giving her a shy smile in contrast to Leo’s blinding grin. Orange-Mask still hides though, the tiniest turtle in the bunch seeming nervous.

The moment doesn’t last long, before another person makes it to the scene.

“Boys? You’ve been out for hours, it’s time to—” The sentence gets cut through the middle, as the five of them turn to see a… rat-man walk up to them. April freezes once more, eyes ticking over his tall stature and strange features, as his jaw drops when he takes her in.

“Dad, look, we made a new friend!” Leo says brightly. “Her name is April, and she likes Jupiter Jim.”

Their dad looks flabbergasted, pointy ears standing up straight. But all she can do is stare at Leo again, the words hitting close to home.

Friend. He called her his friend, and the others seem to enthusiastically agree.

Was it really that easy, to be someone else’s friend? Is that all it took?

She can’t help the genuinely happy smile that blossoms on her face.

Unfortunately for her though, their father’s look quickly transforms from shock to worried anger.

“Boys, how many times have I told you to stay away from humans?” He hisses, arms reaching out to pull his children towards himself, eyeing April distrustfully like she’d steal them away. His tail (he has a tail, that’s insane) swishes anxiously as he gathers them all up, disregarding the loud complaints.

“No, Dad, wait, she’s not a bad human!” Glasses protests, trying to break apart the hug he’s stuck in with his large stick. “She’s nice, she’s not gonna hurt us!”

“‘Hurt’? No, of course I’m not going to!” She raises her hands, hoping to appear unthreatening as possible. She wonders why a grown rat-man seems to be afraid of a small nine-year-old anyway, but she still needs him to understand she means no harm. She just wants to be friends.

He doesn’t reply, eyes narrowed at her again, while overlapping reassurances by the other two echo loudly in the tunnel, close to turning into a whole argument.

April swallows. He doesn’t trust her. She can’t blame him; she is new, after all. Mom always used to be just a tad strict with any new kids she’d invite to their old apartment to play. She’d once joked it was her way of finding out if they were good kids or not. Maybe it’s the same thing here—he’s just not sure she’s a good person.

“It’s, um. It’s nice to meet you.” She stutters, deciding to follow her instinct as she slowly reaches her hand into her pocket. He seems to tense even further at that, but all she brings out is the gold coin she’d gotten from the Sewer-Man—from the turtles— hanging it from the red ribbon and showing it to him.

Their father stills in surprise, eyes locked onto the gift.

“That is a go-en.” He finally utters after a few moments of silence, the words full of surprise. “It’s supposed to be a symbol of good luck and fortune.” He lets go of Leo, who immediately takes a deep breath like he hadn’t been able to in that ironclad grip.

He comes closer, head dipping to study it. “Where did you get it?”

April fidgets, her other hand tightly gripping her coat. “It was a gift.”

“I gave it to her, Daddy.” A small voice pipes up, and they all turn to find Orange-Mask stepping away from his brothers and standing with much more confidence, a stubborn look in his eyes. “It was s’posed to be a present. Like Christmas.”

April beams at him, and slowly he beams back, even brighter. Their father shakes his head at him.

“Did you open my ‘Do-Not-Touch’ cabinet again?” He groans, as if he’s far too used to it. “I’ve told you to not touch it—it says so on the sign!”

“I don’t think Mikey can read, Papa.” Glasses says quietly, pursing his lips, and he says it with such seriousness April doesn’t realize it’s supposed to be a joke until she sees the three of them try to stifle in their chuckles.

He just gives them all a long-suffering look, before sighing deeply and rubbing his hand over his face. “Menaces. All of you.”

April shifts on her feet, fingers clasped together, and ventures, “Um, sir?”

He looks at her head-on, yellow eyes meeting hers, and she licks her lips nervously. “I-I promise I won’t tell my Mom anything if you guys don’t want me to. I know superheroes are supposed to have secret identities and stuff, so I was gonna keep the secret anyway. But even though you’re not really superheroes, I can still be quiet about this, you don’t have to be scared.”

April raises her right hand. “Jupiter Jim’s honor.”

Four grins immediately break out, as the rat-man can’t help but look amused at the extremely grave vow. Glasses wriggles his own fingers in a coincidentally accurate mimic of her, this time in excitement.

“That’s the big deal, Pops!” White-Helmet points out. “That’s like… the most serious promise you can ever make.”

“Can we hang out, Dad? Please?” Leo makes pleading eyes at his father with joined hands, and soon Mikey copies him in a near-identical gesture.

Their father thinks for a long moment, as all five of them hold their breath in anticipation. April has all four fingers crossed with each other, hoping against hope.

Eventually, he sighs once more, this time with a lot less chagrin and a lot more mirth. He smiles at her warmly.

“Okay, April. You’re welcome to our humble abode with my four sons. Would you like some pizza for lunch?”

She nods enthusiastically as cheers go around. Leo comes up to her and loops his elbow with hers, chattering in her ear about himself and his brothers, Glasses coming up to her other side and knocking his shoulder with her gently, and they all follow their father to their lair.

Feeling like she’s swallowed a star, April follows.

Here are the facts about April O’Neil:

a) She is nineteen years old, a sophomore at Eastlaird University, with a major in journalism and a minor in botany. She’s in the honors program, has been on the Dean’s List twice, and is vice-president for the college newspaper.

b) She is the daughter of the head of neurosurgery at Mount Sinai West. Her mother is one of the most renowned professionals in her field, with people from all over the world flying into Manhattan just to see her. More than any of her accomplishments though, she knows that Dr. Carol O’Neil is proudest of her own daughter, and she makes it known to her as much as she can.

c) She is one of the biggest fans of Lou Jitsu. Ever. The martial arts movie star has trained her in the ancient art of ninjutsu, refined her technique to perfection, and taught what it means to choose your own family every single day, no matter how hard the odds are against her. She owes him everything and more, and she loves him like she would her own father if he was alive.

d) She doesn’t have any secrets anymore. She’s done playing that game. Everyone in her life, the folks who genuinely matter anyway, knows about her friends. About her clan. The people she’d fight Pizza Supreme himself for if it came down to it.

April sighs, exhaustion weighing down her limbs, as she looks upon her turtles in the dim light of the subway. They’re all in a pile in the middle of the living room, covered in bandages and blankets, inextricably intertwined with each other in their sleep, reaching out for their siblings even in their dreams.

She is far from exempt in this rule. Raph’s huge arm is wrapped around her entire body, resting her onto his plastron. Donnie's hand is clasped around her wrist tightly. Mikey’s head is resting on her lap. Leo’s legs are linked with hers.

April’s brothers are a part of her, woven into her very soul with the same bonds that make up their Ninpo. And she knows for a fact that they all think she’s just as cool as she thinks they are. These are the people with whom she’d saved the world, after all. She’s done it once, done it twice, and won’t hesitate to do it again, if it means keeping them with her.

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Just a girl who lives in her imagination