If You Think I'm Gonna Come Up With A Title For This, You're Dead Wrong

Chapter 2

Surprisingly enough, the easiest one to convince of your legitimacy is Hamato Yoshi.

As soon as you walk into the lair, all you have to say to Ratman is that his daughter "was" named Miwa (obviously, dropping a bombshell like, "Your daughter is alive," is somewhat bad form) and that he was going to give her a fan/knife thing, and he is convinced. Maybe it is to do with his natural compassion and/or naivety, but it allows you the option to sleep on the couch and not have to wander around to find exactly where the hell that address is.

You pull your knees to your chest as you stare blankly at the dead television screen, mind wandering as you listen to the accumulative sounds of the others. You are used to being awake at ungodly hours, of course, but typically they are spent alone; this is an uncommon occurrence. Now, anyways, you wish you had a way of contacting people. You already feel homesickness writhe around in your stomach, and your dread for what is going to happen next is outmatched by your gnawing curiosity regarding the fate of your family in the fire. Of course, you know their chances for survival was close to none, but—

"Y/N?"

You almost jump out of your skin, having not noticed the sinking of the couch next to you. You look over at the speaker, relaxing slightly. You put your hand on your chest. "Sorry," you breath to Donatello as you try to calm your beating heart. "I uh, kinda zoned out."

"It's alright." His posture is awfully stiff. "I just figured—ya know, since we're going to be interacting more—we should uh, get to know each other a bit."

You nod as you stretch your legs back out. "Sounds like a plan." You turn your body to face him, shaking a little from the start but getting over it relatively quickly. "Oh, by the by, you're the one that can kill me with your bare hands. You can and should relax."

He rubs the back of his neck. "Was it that obvious?"
"A little," you shrug. "But, in your defense," you smile playfully, "if some random bitch walked up to me and started telling me every detail of my past, I'd be hesitant to get too friendly too."

"Oh, it's not that!" He put his hands up, talking oddly quickly. "It's just that you're the first human I've ever met, and really the only person I've ever really talked to that isn't one of my brothers or Splinter—"

A memory slaps you across the face. "Oh! Right!" You grab his hands, making sure his full attention was on you. "I gotta tell you something really important."

He went red. "W-what?"

"I don't think it's wise to tell you outright exactly what's going to happen," you start, impulsively running your thumb over one of his knuckles, "but if you run into a triceratops man, or if you hear about a triceratops man, you have to kill him immediately."

"I- huh?"

"Three or so episodes before the season three finale," you repeat, "you or someone else is going to run into a triceratops man, who you have to kill. If you let him live, the world as you know it will be destroyed and sucked into a black hole."

"Black hole?" He blinks. "So, in a few months, we—what?"

"Well, they call it a black hole, anyways." You roll your eyes. "It's pretty weak sauce for a black hole. I'd hasten to call it more than a portal, but, I guess, technically, it's a black hole."

"You seem to know quite a bit about this sort of thing." He smiles awkwardly. "You know, for someone who just kinda popped out of the blue."

"Well, yeah." You smile back. "People like you inspire me to learn more about how the world around me works."

His pupils dilate, and he breaks eye contact. "Wait, but you said that we had at least until the season five finale, right?" You feel his thumb wrap around yours slightly. "If that's the case, how can a black hole destroy our world? We'd die with it, wouldn't we?"