Chapter Text
They were all used to fighting; it was second nature to them. For as long as they could remember they had been warriors, so when they finally emerged from the sewers they never questioned why they had to fight. It was all they'd ever known. To a certain extent they usually enjoyed fighting.
Tonight was one of those nights that they didn't. Their feet hardly even hit the floor as they furiously battled across the rooftops of New York City, the two sets of ninja barely making a sound as their fight raged above the streets. Tomorrow people may wonder about the dents and damages to their roof, or about any red stains that lingered after the blood was washed away by the rain, but for the most part the city was oblivious to the rival ninja that had chosen their city as their battleground.
It was an uneven fight - four teenagers against dozens of Foot warriors - but that was how it always was. Even though the fight was uneven, it wasn't necessarily unfair, and the outcome was usually the same.
The four Hamato brothers wasted no time in fleeing across the rooftops, away from the fallen Foot clan, fuelled with adrenaline masking the pain from the strenuous fight. Leonardo silently gestured for them to drop down into an alley a few blocks away, leading his brothers away from prying eyes in case any more of their enemies were watching them.
Raphael was buzzing with energy as he silently touched down next to his brother, ready to strike at a moment's notice. He loved the thrill he got from a good fight.
Donatello followed a moment later, his eyes automatically running over his older brothers, wordlessly assessing their injuries from the fight.
Michelangelo was the last to join them, which was strange since he was usually the fastest of the four. The others instantly noticed his strange behaviour.
"Your arm's pretty bad, Mike." Don commented, taking in the deep cut on his brothers arm.
"It's fine." He shrugged, looking down at the injury as if he'd only just noticed it.
Donatello quickly removed his bandanna to tightly tie it around the cut, stemming the blood flow. "You won't be saying that when the adrenaline fades away."
"Thanks." Mike muttered, flinching slightly as he flexed the muscles in his arm, testing the injury to make sure it wasn't too damaged.
Raphael's eyes were narrowed as he watched his best friend; something was definately wrong. Usually Mike was as pumped as he was after a fight, but today he seemed tired and drained. And they usually couldn't shut him up, yet he suddenly didn't seem to want to talk to them.
"Hey Mike - how about a race to the corner of East and Lairdman street?" Raph offered, knowing that nothing fuelled his energetic brother more than a challenge.
"You guys go ahead; I'll meet you back home." Mike gave them a quick forced smile to try and convince them that he was okay before turning and walking away.
Raph started to object, only to be stopped by Leonardo grabbing his shoulder, giving him a look that told him not to argue.
"I'll go with you." Donatello stated, tucking his Bo staff into his belt as he followed behind his brother. "I'm not sure if that cut needs stitching."
Michelangelo didn't even stop to acknowledge him; if he hadn't shrugged his shoulders then Don wouldn't have known if he'd heard him at all.
Leo's eyes landed on the broken sword tucked into the back of Michelangelo's belt. It wasn't uncommon for them to collect 'souvenirs' from their battles, but usually they only collected undamaged weapons, unless they were willing to put in the time and effort to make a particular piece usable again.
Apparently Raphael had noticed as well, because he thoughtfully thumbed the stolen shuriken hidden in the pouch of his belt.
"I'll race you if you want." Leonardo offered, squeezing his brother's shoulder slightly to get his attention. "Besides," he added teasingly. "You're a nightmare to handle if you don't burn off some energy. "
"Thanks bro," Raphael brought one of his hands to his shoulder to rest on top of his brothers, only to roughly push it away. "But I'm pretty sure Mike just killed my buzz."
With that said Raphael followed his younger brothers back home, leaving their leader to stare after them and wonder what exactly had gotten into Michelangelo.