— Leonardo [Bayverse]/Reader
Accused of a string of murders he did not commit, Leonardo is at his wits' end until he meets you—the only key out of this nightmare.
Except that he didn't think his saving grace would hit him over the head with a frying pan. Or tie him up. Or promise to alert the entire city if he tried anything. Maybe he really should have listened to Donnie.
Author's Note: The first chapter of a fic I have planned for the future. It's more of a 'proof of concept' until I can actually commit to it consistently, but I got too excited about sharing this idea, so voila! Think of this as a sneak peek ;)
Additionally, this doesn't have to be strictly Bayverse, despite the references, as I will be playing around with the world-building as much as I can.
“Currently, authorities have yet to identify any leads for the brutal murders of the three tourists. While the culprit remains at large, residents are urged to minimise nightly outings and to ensure that they keep their windows and doors locked and—”
“Requesting more security personnel on 23rd Street—”
“—It’s just so horrific! They were gutted like fish…”
“Donnie, turn that thing off.” Leonardo orders sharply, inflection strained with barely contained nerves. Donatello flinches slightly at the spike in his brother’s pitch, but otherwise complies, powering off the radio seated on the bench. All that is left is a heavy silence, the tension oppressive enough to make someone break into a cold sweat. Despite his best efforts to keep his expression as neutral as possible, Leo’s hands are clammy against the hilt of his katana, wiping down the blade in mindless movement. He needs to think, to come up with a strategic solution to all of this, but all he feels is the shiver running down his spine and a tightening in his chest.
The stillness is broken by a resounding thump from across the room, and Leo glances over his shoulder to see Raphael drop the dumbbells he’d been using, his features twisted with righteous indignation.
“I can’t believe they pinned this on us after everything we’ve done for this city. We should’ve never trusted those cops.” He seethes, lips curled into a deep scowl. “We risked our lives to stop the Shredder and the Technodrome, and they think we’d just turn around and murder people?”
Leo grits his teeth. Even though he knows that Raph is right, he’s rehashed this point enough times that everyone else in the lair has effectively gotten sick of it. He doesn’t respond, nor does the despondent Michelangelo, who sits on the couch, listlessly fiddling with an old rubber ball in his hands. Donnie, on the other hand, embraces the opportunity for conversation.
“The victims were the children of some big-name politicians. It’s a huge case, and people are demanding responsibility. Yet, they have barely any clues to work with.” Donnie swivels in his chair, facing the red-clad turtle sombrely. “However, if they can turn the blame on us, they won’t need to cough up any real evidence. It’s not like we can defend ourselves in court. They’ll hunt us down and—”
“Donnie, how is communication with April and Casey going?” Leo cuts him off abruptly. Donnie blinks, as if suddenly reminded.
“Oh, right. They left their apartment before the SWAT team got there. They’re heading over here now. Devices tossed, and they're taking the longer route. I’ll do a preliminary scan once they arrive to make sure they don’t have anything traceable on them.”
“Good.” Is all Leo can manage to huff out, standing on his feet. “I’m going to go check on Sensei.”
Though it’s not completely his intention—Master Splinter is far from the kind who needs to be ‘checked up on’—it gave Leo an excuse to get out of the living room and far away from any radios or grim faces. He couldn’t afford to lose his cool, even with the threat of the entire NYPD being on the hunt for them.
When the scent of burning incense hits his nostrils, Leo finds some comfort in the familiar smell, calming and just like his father. He treads carefully as he reaches the front of the coloured partitions, his knuckles lightly rapping against the wooden support beam. It’s only when he hears a faint “come in” that he slides open the door, ducking his head lightly as he enters the humble space his father occupies.
Master Splinter sits, legs crossed and back pin-straight, as Leo settles into the space in front of him. He opens his eyes, fixing his son with an assessing stare.
“How are things, my son?” The elderly rat prompts, his inflection carefully even. Leonardo sighs heavily, lips curled into a frown as he responds.
“Not good.” He admits, almost defeatedly. “The media is going crazy, cops are patrolling every street corner for us, and April and Casey’s place has been raided.”
He lifts his lowered head, blue eyes round with remorse.
“Sensei, we need to get out of the city while we can. I don’t think this is something we can fight our way out of.”
There is a beat of silence, and while Leo wouldn’t dub his father as someone hard to read, right now, he can’t make sense of his carefully crafted expression.
“You are right, Leonardo. This is not something we can fight our way out of.” Splinter rises to his feet, hands clasped behind his back. “But it is not a long-term solution for us to run. We will only get so far, and this does not account for April and Casey, who are being pursued alongside us.”
“Then what do we do, Dad?” The moniker escapes easily from his lips, almost like a plea. Suddenly, he no longer feels twenty-three, growing jaded from his years of fighting crime. He’s seventeen again, clumsy and brusque in his leadership, but desperate to keep his family together with everything he has.
“You are strategic, my son. A solution will arise for you if you take a step back and get to the heart of the issue.” Splinter says gently. Leo can’t help but let the ridges of his mask furrow at this—that’s not the answer he’d be looking for, but he doesn’t dare disagree right now, when tensions in the lair are high as it is.
“Thank you, Sensei.” He lightly bows his head, reluctantly rising to his feet, letting the partition door close behind him. Despite the talk, his mind still swims, attempting to grasp for any logic and rationality that passes by. His rumination is interrupted when he catches the sound of thumping footsteps, tensing until April’s voice echoes across the lair.
He re-enters the living room, just in time for April to tug him into a tight embrace, and he finds momentary comfort in the scent of vanilla and coffee that lingers around her. She pulls away, a little breathless, and he realises why when his eyes flicker to Casey, who has beads of sweat rolling down his face.
“I’m sorry,” He says instead of a greeting, timbre low and riddled with guilt. “Are you guys alright?”
“Don’t apologise, it’s not your fault. We’re fine.” April insists, the corner of her lips pulled into a piteous frown. She turns to Casey wordlessly, who is already in the middle of dumping duffel bags to the ground.
“Yeah, we got out in time, at least. Didn’t enjoy hauling all of this over here, though.” Casey adds on, only to flinch when Donnie quickly crowds his space.
“Just scanning to make sure you aren’t carrying anything traceable…” Donnie answers the unspoken question, rapidly tapping on the gauntlet in his hand, muttering under his breath. A bright ray passes over Casey, causing the man to stagger back, caught off guard. Donnie smiles briefly when a beep emits from the device. “And you’re good to go!”
“Thanks. Not weird at all.” Casey responds dryly as Raph stalks towards the group.
“Now that the princess is done complaining.” Raph shoots a pointed look at Casey, causing the other to scowl. “Are we gonna talk some action?”
While his name isn’t said, it’s obvious the question is directed at Leo, heads turning in his direction, with even the unmoving Mikey glancing over from his place on the couch. Leo swallows thickly, fixing himself straighter.
“Let’s run through the situation first.” He asserts, nodding towards Donnie. “From the intel Donnie has gathered, they haven’t been able to pinpoint our location.”
“But it’s only a matter of time before they ascertain we may be hiding below the city rather than in it.” Donnie cuts in. “After that, they’ll obviously look for us in the sewers.”
“... Right,” Leo mutters, stifling his growing nerves. “And about the case, they confirmed that the suspects they are looking for are ‘tall and heavy built’, right?”
“So far, yes. Though to be honest, they seem like only a jump away from confirming that the people they’re looking for aren’t human.” Donnie pushes up his glasses. “The only thing holding them back is public outrage. People are already giving them flak for how little their initial investigation turned up. If they start talking about monsters—”
“—They’ll look crazy to the public. I assume they’re just waiting to have us in custody before they spill anything to the media. After that, they’ll be lauded as heroes for how quickly they captured the perps.”
Raph grumbles a string of expletives under his breath, while Casey makes his anger more apparent, kicking away a soccer ball lying at his feet.
“After everything we’ve done, six years of chasing bad guys and keeping the city safe, and this is what we get?” He raves, gesturing wildly.
“We got too comfortable with Vincent.” April points out with a click of her tongue. “She kept us under her thumb as long as she was able, and now that the pitchforks are pointed at her, she has no problem turning the tables on us.”
An uncomfortable stillness follows, sitting with the heavy stakes weighing their shoulders. Leo’s mind races for a plausible idea, a game plan that will put them ahead of the curve. A splitting headache is already beginning to roll in when he recalls his conversation with Splinter.
“A solution will arise if you take a step back and get to the heart of the issue.”
If this isn’t something they can just fight their way out of, then…
“We need to find the culprit first.”
Leo almost doesn’t believe the words that escape his lips, and it seems like nobody else does either, as he is met with wide eyes and incredulous stares.
“We find the guy? What are we, Nancy Drew and friends?” Raph throws his hands up, baffled. In contrast to Raph’s immediate disagreement, Mikey perks up, finally moving as he twists around to face Leo with hopeful eyes.
“Do you think that’ll work?”
“We don’t have many options.” Leo counters Raph, though he shoots Mikey a softer glance. “It’s worth a shot.”
“Or it's a huge waste of our time,” Raph argues, bringing up a sound point. “If the cops can’t find 'em, how are we supposed to?”
Donnie, who has been unnervingly quiet the entire exchange, has a finger pressed to his lips, eyes faraway in contemplation.
“Actually…” Without warning, he bounds over to his setup of monitors, already rapidly typing on his keyboard. “It’s not a bad idea. I already have access to the CCTVs from around the area, but I haven’t combed through them yet.”
“But the police would have already looked through all the footage, wouldn’t they?” April probes as she approaches, apprehensively staring at the flickering monitors. Donnie swivels in his seat, a familiar gleam in his eyes.
“I doubt they explored it from this angle.” He declares resolutely, pressing a key as an image of a building floor plan comes into view. “This is an old office building that neighbours the crime scene.” He zooms in on his screen, clicking the down arrow until another level shows up. “And when entering that building, there is a connecting hallway that splits off and leads to another street.”
“What are you saying, Donnie?” Leo interrupts with a twinge of impatience. Donnie glances at him, a little annoyed, before turning back to the screen. He clicks on his mouse until a pop-up arrives—a grainy footage from the opposite street where the other wing of the building is located. The thumbnail shows a vacant, still alleyway, unaware of the horrific crime that had occurred on the other street. Donnie unpauses, and the video begins to play.
For a minute, there is nothing, and Leo is already opening his mouth to question what he’s supposed to be seeing. That is, until a door opens, and a figure stumbles out. His eyes widen, his speechless shock mirrored by the others, as they watch the person stagger away, glancing behind them every so often. Then, they are out of view, blending into the crowd.
“Donnie, we need a clearer visual of them.” Leo orders, voice fraught with tension. Donnie rewinds to the moment the figure first steps into the scene before zooming in. He fiddles with the settings, enhancing the lighting, contrast, and sharpness, until their features are discernible.
A young woman, not much older than him, who appears worse for wear as she trips over her feet. Her expression is frozen with fear, even as she surveys her surroundings, hunching in on herself.
“She did this…?” Mikey questions almost breathlessly, his eyes round. Raph, similarly, looks baffled.
“Her?” He blinks owlishly. “She can’t even stand right.”
“No, guys, she couldn’t have.” Donnie corrects quietly. “There isn’t any blood on her, no murder weapon, and she looks too frightened. That’s not the face someone makes after killing three people.”
A heavy silence follows as everyone processes what they’ve seen. Leo feels as if his head is spinning, yet a wave of clarity washes over him, the gears in his mind finally beginning to turn.
“That’s not the perp. That’s our only witness.” He asserts. Heads swivel in his direction, yet his gaze remains determined and steady, finally feeling as if he’s found his footing again. His eyes draw back to the face pictured on screen, as if committing every feature to memory.
Leo realises that hope is a capricious thing.
