Chapter Text
He flicks on the old battery-powered amp with one hand as the other gently plugs in the chord, the whole set-up looking two steps and a fall away from joining the junk yard. Careful, as not to jostle the instrument too much, Raphael wipes away any grime left from it's stay behind the old grate. He plugs the old chord into it's body as he stands, and kicks the old grate shut.
Bow between his teeth, he plucks the instrument's strings lightly, testing the overall pitch and making adjustments when necessary. The amp crackles on the higher notes. He rosins the bow, then he repositions the instrument beneath his chin. A short melody later and Raphael nods to himself, turning his back on the amp and moving the instrument into a more comfortable position.
Tapping his foot against the cement floor in a four by four beat, he raises the bow into the air and begins to play a fast paced, yet familiar, eerie tune.
Finally, he can relax.
–
“What do you mean he's not with you?” Leonardo snaps, arms folded to ward off the midnight chill, “He's always with you.”
“Do I look like Raphie's baby sitter? No, didn't think so,” Casey retorts, leaning against the window frame with an unimpressed look on his face, “If ya really wanna find him so bad, why don't ya just get Donnie to track him on his 'shell cell' or something? Aren't they supposed to be bugged?”
Leonardo narrows his eyes.
“Just sayin',” Casey continues, raising his hands in a mock surrender, “Look, I don't exactly have my Raph-dar installed yet, by why don't ya go bug April? Chances are he's with her.”
“April?” Leonardo grunts, raising a brow, “Why would he be with April?”
“Why would a teenager spend time hanging out with a hot chick? Oh gee, Leo, that's a hard one,” Casey snarks, “Now if ya don't mind, I'm gonna go back into my nice, warm and comfortable, turtle-free apartment. Good bye.”
–
Raphael hums lightly as his foot taps to the beat, his bow gliding across the strings so elegantly it may as well be dancing. He snorts to himself, glancing at the sheet music haphazardly duct taped to the wall, making sure he wasn't going off tune.
Fingers blurring against the fret board, his eyes dart between the instrument and the sheet music as the piece approaches it's crescendo. He stops humming and concentrates on the notes, producing them at a speed that even a human would find difficult. The melody builds and builds and builds, and like a wave crashing to shore, the climax hits and he nails it.
The urge to whoop in joy is almost enough to make him temporarily put the instrument down, but he resists in favour of finishing the piece. Take that, four-fingered people.
–
“Whoa, whoa, rewind. What're you talking about?” April asks, furrowing her brow, “Raph never comes to visit me, at least not without you guys anyway. Isn't he always hanging out with Casey Jones?”
“Yeah, that's what I thought too, but according to Casey he should be with you,” Leonardo replies, strained.
April frowns, shifting her phone from one ear to the other, “Why're you out looking for him anyway? Did something happen?”
“It's a long story,” Leonardo replies after a beat, “Look, if you see him, tell him I need to talk to him, okay?”
“I doubt I will, but okay,” April concedes, fiddling awkwardly with her pen, “Sorry, Leo.”
“That's alright. Thanks anyway,” Leonardo replies, cutting off the call.
She fiddles with her pen for a long moment, before putting the phone aside and getting back to work.
–
Raphael growls, wiping his brow more out of habit than to remove any sweat. Fucking four-fingered people and their stupid fucking four fingers. Trying to play this piece at the right tempo is hard enough as it is.
“This ain't workin',” he grumbles under his breath, lowering the instrument and reading over the sheet music again. It's four by four beat, 120 tempo and minimum eight notes per bar weren't composed with a two-fingered turtle in mind, that's for sure.
Ugh, fuck this. He should've just gone to Casey's, day off be damned.
–
“Leo!” Donatello calls out, smiling as his brother enters the lair, “Did you find him?”
“Nope,” Leonardo growls, “He's gone AWOL, apparently. Any luck with his shell cell?”
“Nada,” Donatello replies, shaking his head, “He left it in the dojo before storming off.”
Leonardo sighs, pinching his brow, “Of course he did.”
“Have ya checked the west side tunnels, bro?” Michelangelo asks, leaning over the back of the sofa.
“Why would I check there?” Leonardo replies, frowning.
“Dude, Raphie always goes west when he gets the shits,” Michelangelo retorts, scoffing, “And I don't think he goes topside either. Like, I'm pretty sure he goes down.”
Donatello rolls his eyes fondly, returning to his computer set-up.
Leonardo bites his lip. Turning back towards the exit, he folds his arms. Why on earth would Raphael go west, further into the tunnels, instead of going to the surface?
–
“Ah, fuck it. Stupid geek medley,” Raphael growls, turning his shell to the sheet music in favour of switching to an easier, more familiar piece. The old Scottish hymn resonates throughout the chamber, his fingers blurring against the fret board as his foot taps to the beat.
If he ever had to play a piece for his family, this one would be it. It's fast, fun and energetic enough to keep Michelangelo entertained, while still being old and sophisticated enough for the rest of them. Granted, he could probably play chopsticks on this thing and still sound sophisticated, but still. It's a good piece.
Not that he'll ever play it for them. The last thing he needs is another thing to be harassed about.
–
Leonardo grits his teeth as he jogs down yet another old drainage tunnel consisting of nothing more than puddles and the occasional rat. He releases a controlled sigh through his nostrils as he hits yet another dead end.
A small rat scurries across one of the supports, disappearing into the shadows. Like Raphael, the little creature becomes impossible to track.
He pinches his brow, leaning his shell against the nearest support. Why is it when it really matters Raphael's about as subtle as a dinosaur in a china shop, but as soon Leonardo needs to find him he remembers how to cover his tracks?
Groaning under his breath, he turns to head back towards the lair when he hears a soft, very soft, sound coming from one of the nearby tunnels. He frowns, retracing his footsteps until he stands outside an old barricade, the words 'Keep Out' painted in black on the wood. Approaching the barrier with caution, he lifts up the side of his bandanna to get a better read on the sound.
It's... melodic, like a song or an instrument being played.
Furrowing his brow, Leonardo takes a long moment to check the wooden barrier for any weaknesses, removing the loose planks one by one until a roughly three foot hole forms in it's centre. He hesitates, albeit briefly, before slipping through the gap and following the sound.
As the path twists and turns, goes up and down, the music eventually becomes loud enough to identify. He can't think of the song name off of the tip of his tongue, but it's a pop song. A pop song being played on a... a violin? He squints, leaping across a particularly decrepit part of the old tunnel and landing on his feet. Yeah, that's definitely a pop song being played on a violin.
Or a fiddle.
Wait, aren't they the same thing?
Closing in on the source of the music, instinct finds Leonardo slipping into the shadows as a soft baritone hum is added to the mix. He frowns, picking up the pace as the song changes to... the Star Wars theme? Okay then.
He nears what looks like the final tunnel, taking the sharp turn left and plastering himself as close to the wall as his carapace allows. Eyes alert and hands fingering a small throwing star in his pocket, he peers over the tunnel's edge to see-
Whoa.
Raphael stands in the middle of the room, eyes closed and nursing an old electric violin beneath his chin. The chord connecting it to the amp looks like it has seen better days, but it's the way his fingers dance along the fretboard that brings Leonardo to a stand still, mouth dropping open in awe.
His bow glides along the strings with more grace than anyone ever thought the typically hot-headed turtle was capable of, and the sounds he's producing through the old crackling amp... wow. Just- wow.
Beautiful.
Raphael's performance comes to a screeching halt, and his eyes shoot wide open like a deer caught in the headlights. Leonardo could smack himself – what kind of ninja mumbles his thoughts aloud?
“Wha- What are you doing here?” Raphael grunts, lowering the violin and taking a cautious step back, “You ain't supposed to be here.”
“I needed to talk to you, and you weren't at Casey's so...” Leonardo replies, narrowing his eyes after a beat.
Raphael folds his arms, scowling, “What's it to you?”
“You said you were going to Casey's,” Leonardo states.
“Well you said I ain't worth shit to this team beyond breakin' heads and startin' fights, so I guess we're even,” Raphael snarls, his grip tightening on the bow, “Get out, fearless. Ya ain't wanted down here.”
Leonardo grimaces, looking away.
“About that,” he says after a long moment, shifting his stance, “I wanted to apologise for what I said. It was uncouth, and uncalled for-”
“And complete bullshit,” Raphael butts in, snorting humourlessly, “Yeah, I know. It don't explain why the fuck you're here instead of, I dunno, meditatin' with sensei or somethin'.”
“I already told you, I wanted to-”
“Apologise, yeah, I got that. It don't explain why you're here,” Raphael growls, gesturing around them, “This place ain't exactly easy to find.”
“I...” Leonardo bites his lip, furrowing his brow, “That's irrelevant. I found you, that's what matters.”
“So, what? You followed me?” Raphael accuses, eyes narrowing, “Or did ya happen to stumble across a magical little birdy who gave you directions?”
Leonardo growls under his breath, “I didn't come here to argue with you Raph, I came to apologise. Something you should do too.”
“Yeah, sure,” Raphael snarks, arms wide, “Sorry, oh fearless leader, for steppin' on your delicate little ego. Next time I'll try not to bump that massive pole shoved up your ass.”
Leonardo's brow twitches.
“Now if ya don't mind,” Raphael growls, turning towards an old grate in the wall and kicking it open, “I've got a violin to put away,”
Leonardo hovers, watching his brother detach the old chord with care, placing his violin behind the grate and shutting off the amp. He sighs and turns to leave.
“Leo, wait!”
Frowning, Leonardo turns to see Raphael standing at the edge, eyes darting anxiously between the various cracks on the tunnel wall.
“What is it?” he asks, concerned.
“Ya can't tell anyone about this, my playin' violin,” Raphael grunts, glaring at the cement.
“Alright...” Leonardo concedes after a beat, furrowing his brow, “Though you're incredibly talented. It seems a shame to hide it.”
Raphael snorts humourlessly, jabbing a thumb at his plastron.
“Look at me, bro. I ain't exactly the kinda guy you'd imagine spends their free time playin' the Moonlit Sinatra,” he grunts, smirking briefly, “Just forget what ya saw down here, okay? You'll be doin' us all a favour.”
“But, Raph-”
“I'm serious, Leo,” Raphael growls, closing the distance, “You either forget this, or you and me are gonna have bigger problems than not bein' able to take no for an answer.”
He cocks his brow, eyes daring Leonardo to argue back, before finally stepping aside and disappearing down the tunnel. He fades into naught but a shadow in the distance.
The sight of Raphael gently swaying to the beat, body illuminated by the moonlight spilling through old exhaust fan above... something tells Leonardo it's not going to be an easy thing to forget. Violin in hand, Raphael somehow manages to overshadow his rough exterior with something far more ethereal. It's enchanting.
He's not going to be able to forget this, and to be honest? He doesn't want to.