Chapter 5: Contact

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Destiny sits in the living room, reading King Lear and doing her best to distract herself. She injured her ankle during early morning patrol; she rolled it during a landing and it had been aching ever since. Splinter suggested she sit out of training and ice her ankle.

She understands. She should have been more careful, and landing on a slanted roof was a terrible idea but, man, she wants to be training. She can hear the turtles as they fight, weapons clanging, grunts echoing. She wants to be there with them. She wants to swing her uchigatana and duck and dodge and feel the burn in her muscles, but no. She has to sit on this bench, ankle propped up underneath a bag of ice.

The sounds of the fights stop. She flips a page, perks one ear towards the dojo. Are they done? Are they switching partners?

"Are you serious? I won that!" Raphael's voice pierces the quiet.

She looks over her shoulders as Leonardo storms out of the dojo, followed closely by Donatello and Raphael. Raphael is fuming, his hands clenched so tightly that his veins are visible against his dark green skin.

"You don't have to win every time," Leonardo says.

"But—"

"No buts!" Leonardo whirls around, jabbing one hand out at his brother and stopping him dead. "Mikey beat you, Raph. It happens!"

"Not in this dimension!" Raphael retorts.

Donatello reaches out. "Raph—"

Raphael shrugs his hand off. "He cheated. I should have won."

"He used the exact same tactics you've used before," Leonardo retorts. "Looks like at least one of us knows how to adapt new strategies."

Raphael's teeth grind and his eyes seem to burn with fury. Destiny can hear his heart starting to pound faster, putting her book down as she starts to stand. She knows that look, knows the warning signs, and if Splinter or Sarina isn't around to stop this before it happens, then...

Before Raphael can throw the first punch, Destiny plants herself in front of him, her back to Leonardo. Her ankle protests her standing on it, but she ignores it. She spreads her wings and narrows her eyes, meeting Raphael's glare head on.

"Don't even think about it, Raphael."

Leonardo and Donatello share a wide-eyed glance. Full names mean business. They both take a step back as Raphael's shoulders hunch.

"Leo started it."

"And you were going to finish it?"

Raphael seethes. "Of course, you defend him. You always—"

She steps forward, hands in fists, and the other two brothers take another step back. Raphael flinches, but stays put.

"Who said Mikey won? Leo?" she asks.

"No. Splinter did."

"Are you saying Splinter's wrong?"

Raphael bares his teeth. "No...but Leo started telling me off when I argued—"

Destiny steps forward again, close enough that their foreheads almost bump. "So you're being a sore loser."

"Des, you should be resting your ankle—" Leonardo starts.

"And you," she interrupts, lowering her wings enough to look at him over her shoulder, "shouldn't be insulting Raph when he's already upset. You're better than that."

Leonardo slowly closes his mouth, bowing his head. Raphael, upon seeing Leonardo getting scolded, releases some of the tension in his shoulders. Destiny looks back at him, takes a deep breath, and points.

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