Chapter Text
At 6:00 a.m. sharp, the four turtles wake up. Donnie’s alarm blares but he silences it quickly, yawning as he sits up. “Guys…” Donnie mumbles, “We gotta get going.” Leo stretches. "6:15, let’s go," he orders. Mikey grins but complies—food waits for no turtle.
"Raph, even you might snag some tea if you hurry for once."
Raph rolls his eyes at Mikey’s encouragement while wrapping his bandages. It sparks his competitive spirit. “Whatever you say, little bro.”
While it is considered impolite to rush down the halls, they speedwalk to the food hall. At 6:15, they are lucky. No long line today—only a few soldiers got there ahead of them. The servers work slowly. They take their time scooping up a carefully measured amount of rice into a small bowl. Then, a single over-easy egg is placed on top. With a clan as large as the Foot, food must be measured precisely.
The turtles move forward. Donnie, in front, accidentally bumps the man ahead and winces in embarrassment.
“Sorry, sir,” he apologises. The foot soldier barely responds, huffing and stepping ahead. When they get their meals, the rice and egg are lukewarm, but at least the tea is warmer.
They must take their food back to their bedroom per Stockman's instructions. Even as Foot soldiers, mutants must stay where they belong—protocol, not personal. Still, they have to finish before 6:30 for check-ins and training. Today, Stockman introduces a new biochemist.
With chopsticks, the turtles quickly eat. There’s little flavour without soy sauce, but the egg yolk over rice suffices. The tea is unsweetened and bitter, sourced for cost. The meal is not meant to be savoured, but a teenager can dream.
Finishing in unison, each brother hands chopsticks and a cup inside their rice bowl to Leo, forming a stack. Leo returns them to the food hall—he’s best at delivering kitchenware unharmed and arriving on time. He hurries back just before Stockman arrives.
With three bangs on the door, Stockman swings the door open. “Come along, turtles. No doddling.” Stockman says, gesturing to them to follow. They oblige.
As they stroll through the halls in single file, they pass the other scientists in the StockGen wing. Some are familiar faces. Some are not. One is a scrawny woman with straight black hair and large square glasses—Lindsay Baker. Very by the book at work. Incredibly skittish around anyone not in a jar of formaldehyde or mutagen. To their left is Irma Langstein, Stockman’s secretary and errand girl. Her curly chocolate hair is tied tightly into a bun, but many wispy bits fall onto her shoulders. She’s been working like a dog. As they pass, Irma glances at her boss. He returns a look that implies she should be busy with something else.
They enter a small clinic-like room and sit side by side. Mikey eyes the simple checkup tools, then, despite his nerves, instinctively unwraps his bandages to prepare.
Once Stockman catches on to what he is doing, he sighs.
“Quit making a mess. There’s no checkup until Ms O’Neil arrives,” he orders, waving his hand around in a disapproving manner. ‘Ms. O’Neil? So that’s her name’ is a thought that roams through the turtle’s head simultaneously, absorbing every new drip of information like a sponge. The older doctor observes their reactions, growing increasingly impatient that his new hire is not here yet. “What is the point of hiring an eager rookie if they won’t show up ten minutes early…”
Suddenly, a presence bursts into the examination room, swinging the door wide open with brute force. However, that force immediately contrasts with the frazzled expression on the new hire. At the door stands a slim, youthful, dark-skinned woman. Her coily hair falls to her back, with dark brown roots and an auburn tone throughout. Attire-wise, she dons a standard lab coat over a golden sports shirt with the number five printed on it, tucked into a pair of russet-brown pants. She adjusts her glasses, panting from exhaustion.
“Sorry, Dr. Stockman! Security lost me, my ID card’s dead—I swear, it won’t—” The woman freezes, wide-eyed at the unimpressed doctor, then the turtles. Her jaw drops, awestruck, a flicker of fear in her eyes.
"Um…am I in the wrong room?" she whispers, teeth clenched. Stockman just sighs. "No. But you’re late."
She exhales sharply, fingers nervously twisting a coil of her hair while she tries to regain her composure after her entrance.
"How—what—How is this possible?" she blurts, eyes darting to each turtle. "Nothing in my degree prepared me for this. Are they...mutated?"
"What else would they be?" Stockman says, folding his arms. "They’re my creations. You’ll be assigned to them."
With a sigh, she calms down. “Okay…do they have names? What do I call them?”
“They do, but I did not name them.” He huffs, “These were the names in their files, and I cannot be bothered to deal with the hassle of more paperwork.”
Then, Doctor Stockman gestures to the shortest brother of the bunch. “This is Michelangelo…”
Mikey offers her a crooked smile and a wave, earning a soft grin in return from the new woman.
“The lanky one to his right is Donatello.” Donnie raises his hand slightly to wave, but does not smile.
Stockman gestures to Raph, scowling and arms crossed. The turtle beside him sends a quick glare before he’s named. “That’s Raphael. And Leonardo.” Leo nods at them both.
She can’t help but laugh. “Renaissance fan, Doctor?” she teases, one eyebrow raised.
“As I said, I didn’t name them.” Stockman reiterates, rolling his eyes and clearing his throat. “Introduce yourself.” Catching the new hire off guard, she scrambles to compose herself for her new ‘patients’. “Hello, mutant turtles, my name is April. April O’Neil.” April says, smiling and waving to all of the turtles. “You can call me whatever you like, I don’t mind–”
“Your name was good enough, Ms O’Neil.” Stockman interrupts. Then he strolls over to the small desk and opens a drawer. He pulls out a large folder filled with paperwork and hands it to April.
“This folder here has all the information on the mutant specimens.” Says Stockman, adjusting his glasses as he speaks. “Put everything back where you found it and clean the equipment afterwards. If you do that, you’ll make it past your probationary period.”
April nods eagerly, motivated not to disappoint her new boss. “Got it,Dr. Stockman.”
With that out of the way, Doctor Stockman leaves the four turtles and the young woman alone in the examination room.
April decides to get this done as soon as possible. "Okay, who would like to go up first?" she asks, eyeing down the small group. The first to raise their hand is Leo. Raph narrows his eyes at his older brother, tension passing between them. Raph appears aggressive, with a tense and defiant posture. Leo meets his gaze, calm and steady, a slight nod encouraging Raph to trust him. With a deep inhalation, Raph relinquishes his stance, allowing Leo to step forward and sit down at the table.
Once he’s seated, April strolls to his side with a blood pressure monitor. She slowly straps the band around his bicep and tricep, wrapping it snugly on his arm. Even though his arm is relaxed, April can still feel the toned muscles underneath, along with a few small scars along his shoulder. Shallow enough not to be obvious, but deep enough to still leave their mark across his scales. She makes a mental note to ask Stockman about their healing properties and physical strength. Despite all their muscles, they’re still just children.
As the machine constricts slowly around the young turtle’s arm,his expression remains stoic and impenetrable. His eyes occasionally flicker over to his brothers. April is quick to notice the slight tension and pipes up to try to ease their worries.
“So…do any of you guys have any favourite food?” April asks, looking over to the brothers. There’s a moment of hesitation, then a shared look of confusion. Mikey responds first.
“We usually just have rice with maybe an egg on top or some soup. I guess my favourite food would be an over-easy egg. Some spinach here and there, too.”
“Really? That's it?” April asks, shaking her head before continuing, “I mean, I don’t mean to sound rude. I just thought you’d have a little more variety in your diet, that’s all.”
A small silence follows, but Mikey is quick to keep the conversation going. “What’s your favourite?” A soft smile forms across April’s face, relieved she’s getting somewhere. “My go-to meal is always gonna be pizza. It single-handedly got me through my university career.” April exhales, putting a hand on her cheek as she reminisces. “Lots of nights, I had no time to cook up a meal if I was studying or coming back from my part-time job. I’d usually call up the chain close to my house, and they’d be there in twenty minutes.” She hears the beep of the blood pressure monitor go off, diverting her attention back to Leo briefly. Her hands gingerly rip off the wrap, gesturing that he can go sit back down. “Your blood pressure looks good, Leo…” April murmurs, attempting to be encouraging to someone she has just met. Leo nods, sitting back down beside his family. “Thank you.”
April sighs, looking at the other three, “Who’d like to go next?” Thankfully, Raph is swift to raise his hand. “Let’s get this over with…” Raph grunts, plopping himself onto the chair and holding his arm out for April. She wraps the band around his upper arm, then tightens it a little. Raph’s arm has a little more bulk than Leo's, but that doesn’t surprise the young biochemist, even after just meeting them. She turns the machine on, clearing her throat to continue her small talk.
“If you could put any topping on your pizza, what would you put on?”
Each brother exchanges a quick glance, actually considering her question. There’s no harm in answering, anyway.
“Um, we’ve never had pizza before. Seen it a lot on ads before, though,” Mikey replies, offering April a sincere grin. All April can do is gasp.
“For real?! Never? That’s crazy, and also a bit of a crime for your food palette.” April pauses, only briefly diverting her attention to look at the numbers for Raph’s blood pressure. “Maybe I can grab you a slice or two sometime. I get the sense that you'll like it. Most teens your age do.”
To the side, Donnie also peeks up.
“I mean, I’d probably go for a combo with green peppers and black olives…” He suggests, shrugging his shoulders. “To be fair, we don’t really eat lots of cheese or tomatoes, so I’m not sure if those combos would go together.”
As April removes the band from Raphael’s upper arm, she can’t help but smile a little herself.
“I mean, I’m not an olive gal, but I don’t see why not.”
“Oo! What about jalapenos and anchovies? Spicy with the nice umami flavours?” Mikey suggests, and is quickly met with varying levels of disgust by his brothers.
“I think you need a smack against the head for that. What’s next, you gonna suggest pineapple?” Raph retorts, sitting back down while Donnie leaves to get his blood pressure taken. Mikey simply sticks his tongue out at his older brother. “If we’re throwing suggestions out there, go big or go home. Get lots of meat there, it’s good protein.”
April can’t stop a goofy grin from forming on her face. She only takes a quick glance to analyse Donnie’s blood pressure before continuing. “All pretty solid choices, in my opinion. You show potential,” she jokes. The joke seems to go over everyone's head but Mikey's. “Are you taking us in as your padawans?” Mikey quips, raising a brow. “Maybe I should. You all seem like good students.” April giggles, gesturing for Mikey to take his brother’s place with the blood pressure monitor. “Is Star Wars popular in Japan?”
When Mikey sits down, he shrugs in response. “I dunno. I saw a few movie posters in a dumpster once…Maybe I snuck onto the roof to watch a showing of it.” Leo shoots Mikey a disapproving stare, but it isn’t acknowledged by his baby brother. “We don’t really get to watch a lot of television or movies. The stuff we do see is from America most of the time.”
April’s gaze softens more. The more she hears about the four turtles in front of her, the more she wants to learn about them. “Well, I know I’m only here today for a blood test, but I’ll probably be seeing all of you more often. I’d really like to get to know all of you better, really. I don’t mean to make you sound like some kind of experiment, but you all seem so interesting, and I want to know you.”
Mikey is the first to pipe up, looking up at the red-haired girl with a beaming grin. “You seem interesting too, April. Maybe we can share a slice sometime.” April shoots Mikey a wink and makes a finger gun gesture. “Sounds like a plan, Michelangelo,” she replies, “I don’t know if this movie is too old for you, but a wise man once said, ‘I believe this is the start of a beautiful friendship’.”
While Mikey doesn’t seem to know, Donnie fills in the blank for him. “Casablanca? Film noir?” April nods, taking the wrap off of Mikey’s bicep. “A beautiful friendship, indeed.”
After April fills out the paperwork for the turtle’s file, the brothers and the new girl go their separate ways for now. Even if each brother has a varying opinion on ‘Ms. O’Neil, at least she can be a silver lining in the move to New York.
