Author's Note: One day, I'm going to stop writing stories about The Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.

Today is not that day. Here, have a one-shot. I'm going to squint and call this a 2k14-verse story.

Quick Summary: Child!April grieves on her rooftop. TurtleChild! Donnie finds her. Rated K, obviously.

Squeak. Squeak. Squeak.

Sniffles punctuated every blistering squeeze of the small red ball, occasionally finding a steady rhythm but mostly existing only in a series furious assaults. Tilting her head so that her moist cheek lay against her shoulder, the small girl wrapped her arms tighter around her knees in an effort to stave off the winds.

It was stupid to come here, she decided as she wiped her face roughly against her windbreaker sleeve. And knowing it only made her chest hurt more, another sob wracking her tiny body. With an angry squeal that thrashed her braids, the girl turned swiftly in her spot and hurled the small red ball off the roof. "Stupid ball," she muttered tearfully. Her cheeks felt cold and scrunchy with tears. It made her face itch.

She wasn't supposed to be on the roof, but her dad wouldn't notice. He never noticed anything anymore.

Behind her, something suddenly let out a clatter and the small girl gasped, her blue eyes going wide. She shifted to her knees at breakneck speed and looked around the roof. "Who – Who's there?" she tilted her head to peer behind the alcove that led away from the roof and back into the apartment complex. When she squinted, she saw a dark piece of fabric shift behind the rooftop entrance.

Scared silly, she edged away from the door and looked around, brows furrowing and lips trembling as she tried to figure out what to do.

"... Why are you crying?"

April O'Neil shrieked at the sound of another voice. Instantly dropping to the roof in a defensive gesture, she wrapped her arms tightly around her knees and tilted her head. After several moments of silence, she decided that whoever it was didn't sound all that threatening. In fact, the voice was tiny and squeaky like her little ball.

Sitting back on her haunches, she picked at her shoelace. "'Cause my mom died," she answered, frowning. She pretended to look at her shoe but whenever the shadows around the alcove move, she sneaked a glance back in that direction. She even edged a little closer, hoping whoever it was wouldn't notice.

"I'm sorry," the squeaky voice said at long last. He sounded sad, she noticed. Maybe he'd lost his mom too.

She stood and tried to move closer but the figure darted further into the shadows, and when something moved on the dirty rooftop she realized he was carrying a blanket. She couldn't see anything else, but he might've been wrapped up in it. He was probably cold, she realized. It was chilly up there. He might be homeless. She saw homeless people sometimes. Her mom had always pulled her away, but she felt bad for them. One time, she even gave one her sandwich from her lunchbox. He'd seemed happy, so she figured it must have been a good thing. "Why are you hiding?" she asked, curiosity overwhelming her fear.

The odd shadow shuffled further into the darkness of the rooftop corner. April decided he looked like dark blob.

"Uh," he grumbled something under his breath and then said more loudly, "Not supposed to be out. I don't want you telling on me."

"Oh," she said with understanding. She wasn't supposed to be out, either. So that made sense. Clicking her tongue idly, she let her head fall to the side so that both red braids fell over one shoulder. "Are you a grown-up?" she asked at last. "Because I'm not supposed to talk to strange grown-ups."

The shadow giggled and – to her delight – snorted a little. "No," she could hear his grin. "I'm not a grown-up. I wish I was, though."

"Me too," she agreed. "Then I wouldn't have to go to school."

"Why don't you want to go to school?" the squeaky voice asked, and then went on wistfully, "I would love to go."

The little girl shrugged. "I like school and books," she said, twisting one braid in her fingers and examining its end. "But people are mean to me, and I don't like that. They say mean stuff and call me carrot-top." She stuck out her tongue. The shadowy figure lurched closer, hobbling until just one side of its dark bulky outline was visible.

"That's silly," he told her matter-of-factly. "Carrots aren't red. And your hair is pretty."

She giggled, "Pretty?" Her cheeks flushed. "Nuh-unh."

"Yes-huh," the shadow disagreed. "Only 4% of the world is naturally red-headed, you know. You're a genetic anomaly."

"What does that mean?" she asked.

"It means you're special," he told her, and he sounded so sure and smart. She was certain what he said was true. The last of her tears dry, the little girl sucked in a deep dramatic breath and then squared her shoulders.

"My name is April Leanne O'Neil. What's yours?"

The shadow hesitated and April spotted something she hadn't noticed before – a pair of sharp white eyes, blinking in the darkness. They were spooky. April liked them. After all, her cat's eyes glowed in the dark and Mr. Fluffyballs wasn't bad. Maybe this shadowy kid wasn't, either.

After waiting a really long time for him to answer, April smacked a hand on the rooftop. "Are you still there?" she called. Finally, the shadow shifted a little.

"Donatello," he whispered very quietly.

"Whoa," April's eyes widened. "That's a long name. Don-a-tell-o." Rocking back and forth on her bottom, she dropped her braid and smiled. "I've never heard that name before. Did your parents make it up?"

"No," he answered, and April knew he didn't sound so scared as before. "It's Italian."

April blinked. "Ooh, I read something about that! Italians are from Italy."

"Yeah," the shadow giggled and another snort sounded. "Do you know where Italy is?"

She thought about it and then grinned. "Europe," she said with a firm nod. "And it looks like a boot!"

They laughed together.

"It does!" he agreed, jubilant. "I always thought that!" They laughed more, and April was glad he was there on the roof with her. It was nice to talk to someone.

"What're you doin' all the way up here?" she asked, sitting cross-legged and gripping her shoes. "Do you live in my apartment complex?"

The shadow wiggled in his spot. "Uh, I... I was out, gathering things for my stuff." April squinted when his blanket shifted and she saw – just for a tiny second – something purple. She edged closer again, scooting on her butt and hoping he didn't notice.

"That doesn't tell me much," she rolled her eyes.

"I build things," he told her more confidently. "So sometimes I need stuff from the dumpsters. I heard you crying, though. So I wanted to see if you were okay."

"That was nice of you," said April earnestly. "I'm glad you're here. I haven't had anyone to talk to since my mom died." After a heavy sigh, she blinked up at the sky and wrinkled her nose. "Sometimes I just go to school for a whole day and I don't even remember it, cause I'm not even thinking about it, ya know? I'm just thinkin' about other stuff."

"Like what?" the shadow asked curiously.

April smiled, "Stories. I like to make up stories in my head." She stuck out her tongue. "When I tell people about them, they make fun of me. So I don't tell people about them anymore." With a loud huff, April yanked out her shoelace and dropped it to the ground. "Everyone is mean and I don't like them."

"Mm," the shadow-boy made a noise. "Sometimes... I feel that way, too."

After a few minutes, April rose from her spot and dusted off her jeans. "I guess I should go inside. My dad will start to worry." Watching the strange white eyes made her smile. "He might not even notice, though. He hardly pays attention to anything anymore. He tried to feed me a frozen waffle yesterday."

"Is he sad because your mother died?"

"Yeah," April kicked a foot. "That's why I come up here to be sad. Because I don't want to make him any more sad." Shrugging thin shoulders, the redhead sighed deeply. "I don't have any brothers or sisters, so I don't have anyone to talk to. And now it's just me and Daddy."

Her eyes brightened suddenly. "Hey, will you be my friend? Then I can talk to you!"

The shadow shifted and something made a noise like pots and pans. "Uh, I... I -"

Her face fell. "Aw, it's okay..." she dropped her head. "I know you probably got other friends."

"No, no!" the shadow said shrilly. "I mean – I want to be your friend. But I'm not sure I can. I'm not supposed to be out here. I don't know when I could come see you."

"It doesn't matter if you can see me," implored April as she crossed her arms. "I can't see you right now and we're still talking." She grinned when the shadow snickered.

"You know what I mean..."

April shrugged. "You can still be my friend... if you really want." When her shadow friend didn't say anything, April turned back to the rooftop door with a frown. Before she could touch the handle, she heard his squeaky voice behind her again.

"Okay," he said softly. "I'll be your friend."

Smiling, April glanced over her shoulder. "Really? Great!" Turning the door handle, April paused inside the doorframe. "Good bye, friend Donatello."

"Donnie," he piped up. "You can call me Donnie."

The little girl laughed. "I like that. Bye Donnie!" When she sneaked a look back at the shadow, she saw him raise an arm and wave at her. It looked like he had no fingers, she thought. Or maybe he was just holding his hand closed.

But it was okay. She had a new friend and he did, too.

And for two lonely little kids, that was all that mattered.