For the prompt: "this wasn't supposed to happen". Also, this serves an alternate version to the previous "Aftertime" story with no OC.

Been going through some rough times. Apologies that your favorite characters have to suffer.

Stars and ribbons never settled in the moist, broken Den. Soiled rain, discarded glass, and their collections of faded accessories surrounded a slowly diminishing family circle. By day, three of the four brothers scavenged and hustled; by night, all four brothers herded around their blood fire. Tempers were as fast as storms, but each brother was important to the next, with the loop never ending.

Three pairs of eyes watched the fire that night; one pair was closed, fighting the urge to sleep and wanted to hear his companion's hushed voices but caught the fire's snaps.

"Talk," weakly, he whispered. The crackles drowned his other sounds.

"Rest, Leo," a sharp, deep voice harmonized with the flames; his leathery hands slowly rubbed his own face, and he sighed. "Mikey, plan C."

Mikey's eyes retracted. "I think you might be jumping the gun, Raph." His voice broke several times and although he was disagreeing with his leader's commands, his hand was already over the bag. On cue. Like a habit.

Visibly stressed, Raphael hissed, "A gun is what I fucking need right now, but Casey took it. If he loses it, he'll have a snack with his own balls!"

The final brother shuffled halfway between the light and darkness, his eyes gliding from the sick to the healthy, and then back to his own hands. "Save the bullets for more important situations." His tongue stopped short of finishing with 'like this one.'

Mikey's hand moved back to his knee, and he caught a moment of strength. "Take that back, Donatello."

"Take what back?" Usually avoiding eye contact, Donatello broke his habit that evening. "How about I wave a magical wand and take it all back?" He pointed to Leo's mass on the ground, huddled under a mountain of rugged blankets; Don's voice never rose above the fire. "I couldn't fix our brother so maybe some healing princess from Galaxy RainbowPuppies will descend to our destitute city and glitter us back to Utopia?"

Glares flickered brighter; hearts ached for that very silly idea. Mikey almost broke his teeth from anger.

"Huh, Mikey? Can you see that in your fucking dreams?"

"Alright! Can it, ladies!" Raph sliced through the fight and waved his arms. "You're worse than those old tv talk shows. Don, if you curse one more time, I'll dunk your head in that ice bucket over there."

The two soldiers turned their eyes from each other and back to their scheduled thoughts.

"Shit's tough. We're all clamoring for food and water, and god knows we're just a stone's throw away from being someone's next meal, but if we're not there for Leo, we might as well shoot him right now and bury his body under this floor." Raph dove into his tattered bag and pulled out a half-empty bottle of alcohol. "Get your little girly cups I found at the park and hand them here. We're drinking, and I don't want to hear any crap!"

A moment passed, and pink and yellow cups were handed to the Whiskey Holder. Mugs were quickly filled and patched around the band. Mikey cautiously sniffed the liquid and twitched his nose.

Raising his goblet, Raphael nodded to the damp ceiling and back down to his family, "This wasn't supposed to happen, but life's never been a fair player to anyone, especially us. Even if we swallow the last bullet, I'm taking every asshole down with us. I was never a good sport either!"

His two tired brothers silently nodded and lifted their cups.

Raph toasted, "For Leo."

They drank, ate, and sang into the morning until Four became Three.