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It’s been a couple of weeks after my first run-in with the turtles.
To be honest, it all still feels unreal to me; the brothers look like they came out of a picture book like they just jumped out of my imagination. But they were very much real; as seen right now, in this moment, with my slowly heating up phone thanks to our group chat.
Can you believe it? They’re 6-foot mutated turtles who fight crime with their ninjitsu trained by an old mutated rat, and we were currently debating over donuts.
Spicy opinions were being thrown around. Myself included.
silversmiles: idk i just dont think jelly donuts are THAT good
It only took 5 seconds before hell descended upon the group chat. Good thing this was the group without Splinter, or else I think he’d have thrown the phone to the sewers from the sheer chaos.
themikester: u did not just say that, sweetcheeks
tiramithyu9000: but the filling is the best part!
hogosha: i agree
hogosha: on the jelly donuts arent good train, for clarification
fearless-TS: While we’re sharing unpopular opinions, I think coffee is overrated.
GREENMRCLEAN: coming from the guy who likes tea
GREENMRCLEAN: im shocked
stacey-moans: thats why i go for energy drinks
silversmiles: i’ve seen you mix your coffee with red bull, jones. don’t think yourself above us
hogosha: ^ (2)
Just as I set down my phone, the door slams. “Dear assistant.” Dr. Medina’s voice was sharp, veering poisonous. My hands automatically push my phone into a cranny, far from my bitch of a boss.
“Dr. Applegate just finished his last patient and we’ve got a little meeting to get to. Be a dear and clean up the place, hm?”
Ugh, I can’t believe I’m closing this place. Alone. Again. Was what I wanted to say. Instead, I grit my teeth into a sickly sweet grin and using an even sweeter tone. “Of course, Dr. Medina.”
Either he senses my patience unraveling like twine or he simply relishes in my suffering, a smug grin showing his veneers was plastered on his stupid old face.
It wasn’t until he was by the door that he was the last person in the building besides me when he yelled. “Oh, and you’re opening tomorrow!” He just about shut the door before I dropped my head unto the desk and let out the throatiest groan I could muster. Fuck this fucking job.
Then I was alone in this 1600-square feet prison to clean up and tidy.
I didn’t bother texting April that I was coming home late, she knows that my bosses like to torture me. I haven’t been able to go home before 6 PM for 3 weeks now.
Perhaps that was my first mistake.
You see, this clinic wasn’t set up in the safest of neighborhoods. Sure, children lived along the houses around the block, but nobody wasn’t really walking around at nighttime. When the sun is out, the streets come alive with loud music and people shouting or fights breaking out. Luckily, I’ve mastered which streets would most commonly have commotions and unpleasant individuals running amok. Not to mention I also have my small can of pepper spray and a mini taser.
So when the telltale sounds of a commotion outside started while I was fixing up one of the chairs, I didn’t pay it much mind. Second mistake.
My infallible, full-of-shit boss seemed to forget to lock the door when he left. Maybe I should have checked it when I was alone, but it’s too late now. The chime at the door sounded off and I heard feet padding in. The voices that were talking were gruff and deep. I was about to check it out when through the small sliver of the door, I saw a hand holding a crowbar.
It felt like I was electrocuted from the top of my head to the tips of my toes. As slow as I could manage, I dropped to my knees, and scurried to hide behind the chair. It was big enough to cover my cowering form, I hope.
“Anybody home?” One of the voices yelled out, snickering. “Who the hell leaves the door open. Fucking idiot.”
“It’s like they’re begging to be robbed.” Another voice replies cheekily. I hear the waiting chairs being flipped over, papers flying off and various items fall to the floor as they rummage the reception area.
Oh God. What do I do what do I do– I have to call someone, I have to get the police, I have to… These thoughts race my mind as my trembling fingers reach for my phone in my pocket– at least I wasn’t stupid enough to leave it at my desk– and scroll before my fingers pick from my contacts unconsciously.
It doesn’t take two rings before the line connects. They call out my name first, unsure. “You’ve never called me before–”
“Leonardo.” I shakily whisper, clutching the device with two hands as my eyes continue to watch the door. My hands are cold. “S-s-someone broke in the clinic while I w-was cleaning up. I’m alone.” My voice breaks at the end of my sentences. “P…Please. Leonardo. Help me.”
“We’re coming.” His voice was resolute, the awkward tone from before is replaced with one I’ve heard countless of times. “Don’t hang up. We’re on the move.” He yells orders to his brothers and I hear movement, but they don’t register in my head anymore. More things are being flipped over and upside down, before I hear their footsteps move to the hallways. They bang open the doors, and rummage at the rooms inside.
My heart has never beat this fast before. My throat was closing up and I was already breathing out loud when they were ransacking the room right next to mine. I try again at my phone. “L…Leo… Leonardo?”
All I’m met with is the sound of movement, clothes rustling, and the wind.
Then it all happened in a blur.
The door was banged open. Try as I might, I’ve curled into the smallest ball I could muster, but they still see me. It was the two men, the one holding the crowbar was the first one to see me. A sick grin splits his rugged face as he keeps his eyes trained on me. “Well, well, well. Lookie here. A witness!”
His friend, the one holding a gun, sees me too and lets out a cackle. “So you’re the one who left the door wide open. Gotta say, we gotta thank your stupid lil’ head for making our job a lot easier!” Then he points his gun at me, and everything turns into a hundred in an instant. His lips move but I can’t hear it anymore, all I can hear is the pounding of my heart.
My whole body is frozen still, but I can still make sense of a shadow that barrels into the two and wrestles the weapons out of their hold. My breathing is so uneven, and they don’t get better when my savior finally settles into view, and I can better see their face when they’re up close.
Crystal clear blue eyes stare back at me, and they look relieved. He breathes my name with a soft sigh. I think I say his name, but I don't hear myself say “Leonardo…”
His hands steady me to pull me up before they rest on my shoulders.
I don’t remember much from the shock, but I’m surprised to see Casey. He pulls me into a quick hug as he sits with me on the floor. I don’t see any of the other turtles, or even Leonardo (didn’t he just save me? Where did he go?). The perpetrators were knocked unconscious, and handcuffed just before us.
Officers flood into the clinic, some detectives ask me questions, and suddenly I’m surprised to see my bosses saunter through the front door. They immediately flock to me and they hug me, yes, even Dr. Medina was holding me tight, and was there as the police inspected the place.
The next time I open my eyes, it was around 4 in the morning, and I’m at my shared apartment with April, with said reporter snuggling me on the couch, fast asleep. Casey was snoring away on the recliner. April must have sensed my abrupt awakeness, as she groggily wakes up, before readjusting and leaning on me and went back to sleep. I follow her and went back to sleep.
I’m shook awake by my phone ringing. I blindly reach for it and answer, not looking at the number nor the name. They yell my name and I had to yank it away from my ear.
It’s my boss, screeching my name through the chopped speaker of my phone. “Are you well? Are you hurt? Where are you?” Then there’s another voice that was calming him down in a more stern tone, and they keep bickering a few inches away from the phone.
“Mr. Medina, I’m fine.” I try to sound out with a dry throat. The sandpaper on my tongue struggles to articulate with the rest of my mouth as I speak. “I’m sorry I didn’t call right away after last night. It was…”
“A terrifying experience, yes, of course.” He supplies in the blink of an eye. “We’re at the clinic right now. We’re going over the mess with some investigators and police.”
Then someone else takes the phone and addresses you with a stoic tone. “You need not be here for further investigation, as we were made aware that the authorities already had a conversation with you the night before.” Dr. Applegate says so with a patient tone. “You are to take rest for the remaining days of the week off to rest and recuperate after this whole ordeal.”
“And you will be joined by another employee for closing whenever it is your shift to do so.” Applegate says with a more careful tone. “Are we clear?”
The sandpaper smoothens and I swallow. “Yes sir. Thank you.”
It’s as if he nods. “Further details will be discussed in a memo, which will be forwarded to you sometime later in the day. Rest well.” The phone clicks and you look down at your phone.
“Looks like you finally get a rest, after going through The Horrors.” April comments from beside you. Her hand props her up against the pillows.
A sigh leaves me as I fall back. “I’ve never felt so terrified of my life.” I admit with a blank stare at the ceiling.
The reporter pats my arm comfortingly. “It always is, the first time.”
“The first time—?”
“Good morning to you too.” Casey groggily rises from the recliner, yawning up a storm. “How’re you feelin’?”
“I had the most severe panic attack in my life and I have the week off.” I answer. “I… think I’ll be fine.”
April gets up from the couch and flips through her phone as they saunter through the kitchen for breakfast. “The guys are blowing up. You should probably respond before they break through the-”
The open window is now invaded by four familiar figures. “Too late, Hogosha. We’re already in!” Michelangelo chirps as he makes his way through the space and sits at the floor beside the couch.
“Sweet thing, you doing alright?”
“Monitoring your phone, your heart rate spiked around minutes ago.” Donatello chimes as he fiddles with something on his glowing armband.
“Need us to beat someone up for ya?” Raphael asks as he follows April in the kitchen to help prepare breakfast.
“No. Just… quiet.” I respond as I try to sit up, then I meet those beautiful eyes again. He doesn’t move from his spot by the window, and he doesn’t break his stare.
“Are you feeling better?” Leonardo says.
“Y-yes. Thank you. For answering the call last night.” I stumble through my words. His lips twitch into something akin to a smile and I had to swallow.
Before I can make a fool out of myself any further, the two on kitchen duty bustle out plates to the coffee table and we all stuff ourselves full with eggs, meat, and pancakes. I slip a look at Leonardo as I sip on coffee. The ninja has some kind of 6th sense for stares, I suppose, as he meets my stare right away as he also raises his mug of tea to his lips. He looks electrified to meet my stare and he frantically looks away, but his eyes struggle to remain away from mine.
I can only imagine how childish we look from the eyes of the others. With how April was fighting back a grin and Michelangelo wiggling his eyebrows at Casey and his brothers that were not Leo, you could only guess.