As the ending song played, (y/n) looked over at her turtle, happy to see a subtle smile on his face. Throughout the movie he had various reactions, and even tried to laugh a few times, but that of course, just reminded him how sore his throat was. Even so, he seemed to enjoy it, so as the credits popped onto the screen, (y/n) set up and crossed her legs under her body to face her pet.

"So, what did you think?" the girl asked, and her turtle turned his smile to her. She took that to mean he liked it. "Good. I hope that explains the names a bit. You just seem a lot like Francoeur to me. You, admittedly, look a bit scary, but you're actually really sweet and just...ya know...something special."

Her pet's smiles only grew as he placed a hand on her knee, giving it a squeeze, hoping that it would express his thanks. At first it did make (y/n) smile. She liked that he was becoming comfortable, but then that smile faded. There was too much on her mind to be happy. After all, the movie gave her time to think and through thinking she realized a few things about their situation. Namely, that to Francoeur, this was simply another prison cell, not a new home for him to enjoy.

So, very slowly, the girl placed her hand on top of her turtle's green one. "I know this probably isn't where you want to be." she started, her tone low and a bit hesitant. "After all, Karai mentioned you had brothers, and I'm sure they are out there worried about you. I understand that you would rather be with them right now, but, well, since you're kinda stuck here, we might as well make the most of our time right."

(y/n) then looked up at him with hopeful eyes, a certain desperation bled into her words as well. "We can get to know each other or play games. We could become friends if you want." Her voice trailed off for a moment, and her grip on his hand tightened. "What do you think, Francoeur? Could we be friends?"

It took a moment as the turtle thought over her words. There was understanding that he didn't expect. She didn't shy away from the fact that he wasn't where he wanted to be, that he probably had a worried family somewhere. She acknowledged it. (Y/n) wasn't trying to disguise this situation as something it wasn't she simply wanted to make it as pleasant as possible.

First with the name. Something that she could use just to show him some form of respect. Now her acknowledgement as well. Then there was her last request. The olive branch of it all. The offer of friendship, that she left available for him to decline. It was his choice. He looked at her patiently, waiting for something other than what she expressed to leak through. Some sort of proof of deception, but it never came, and he was pretty certain it never would.

So, as he squeezed her knee once again.

Francoeur, nodded.

For the next two days, (y/n) was home all day. Something both household members were happy about. It gave them time to get used to each other and the workings of the apartment. Together they cooked, cleaned, and simply tried to relax. Every hour (y/n) could give Francoeur his eye drops and change his bandages and had even started him on a regimen of two cups of honey tea with each meal to help the pain in his throat. He continued to sleep in her room, while (y/n) occupied the guest rooms, only venturing into his personal space to grab clothes or books that she needed.

Wednesday was the first day that Francoeur was left alone. As she went out the door, (y/n) explained that he was welcome to eat anything he wanted, and that she would be home late. Earlier in the week she gave him her schedule. Rehearsals with David on Wednesday, alternating houses, then performances on Friday and Saturday. In total, Francoeur had about twenty hours a week without his owner present.

One her schedule were also various chores and tasks as well as pick-ups. (y/n) had explained to him how Mr. Okoru insisted that things be done for her, she even confided in her pet her anxieties from it. 'It feels as if he always wants to have eyes on me.' the girl had admitted before pointing at a camera in the living room. 'There is one in everyone except the master bedroom and the bathrooms.' After that delightful piece of information was revealed Francoeur made sure he knew where every single camera was located, and even did a thorough sweep for bugs. It was a cold comfort when he found none. The foot could see everything that goes on within the apartment, but they couldn't hear it.

It didn't make much of a difference. 24/7 surveillance meant walking out the front door while (y/n) was gone pointless. No doubt the foot knew her schedule and would be watching him closely during his alone time. The windows in the master bedroom didn't over either, so that escape plan was ruined before it was fully formed. It didn't take long for the turtle to realize that this cushy apartment was his most secure prison yet.

When he finally accepted his fate on Wednesday night, Francoeur made himself a bowl of popcorn and spent an hour searching through (y/n)'s DVD collections as well as fighting with her entertainment system. Once it was sorted he sat down on her admittedly comfortable brown couch and pulled a rose covered blanket over his lap. (y/n) owned plenty of sci fi movies, so, on his night alone, Francoeur decided that he would binge watch them, starting with Star Wars Episode I. After all, that series seemed to be one of the longest she owned and should hold him over for a while.

Meanwhile, across the hall, at David's apartment, (y/n) and her pianist were taking a break. Mr. Okoru had sent them a brand new setlist to learn before Friday without warning. The set list ended with 'Maybe' from Annie as well as an announcement that (y/n) had to memorize, letting the patrons know that the next weekend would be a special event. Two nights of show tunes featuring the musical talents of Jamison McMann. The thought made the girl's head pound. While she was happy to sing with Jamie again, the show tune events made the club stupid busy.

Curses of New York, David would joke.

"So, Gorgeous one." David started, "I heard that Mr. Okoru called you to his office after Saturday's show. Is everything ok?"

The concern in his voice and expression was obvious, making the girl's heart warm. It was nice to have a friend like David around. An older brother of sorts, who really just wanted the best for her. She knows that if her were in the rooms with her when she was told to come to Mr. Okoru's office it would have taken three men to keep him out of the meeting. David never liked (y/n) alone with the men they worked with, and it was no secret why. He saw them for who they really were, slime.

"Don't worry Davy," The girl cooed, "Mr. Okoru just wanted to give me another gift."

Her last words came out a bit more exasperated than she intended them to. She was thankful, but the presents had become a bit much. Even so, she adored Francoeur, even if it felt more like Mr. Okoru gave her a roommate rather than a pet. No, her mind corrected itself. Her boss hadn't given her either of those things. He had given her a prisoner, second hand from his daughter.

David didn't know that though, and she wasn't sure if she'd actually tell him the whole truth. IT felt almost personal. To her, to Francoeur. Still, the man's eyes lit up at the news as he leaned over top of his piano to smile in her direction.

"Dinner on you then?" He teased, "Where is the certificate for this time? Clover Hill? Jean-Georges? Per Se? Will I be needing to pull out my suit?"

(Y/n) couldn't help but laugh, "No, no. Not dinner this time."

"Then what did he give you?" David hummed, trying to hide his disappointment that came with missing out of yet another fine dining meal.

"Well..." The girl started, the sleeves of her pull over suddenly becoming very interesting. "He got me a pet turtle. A really big pet turtle."

The man's eyebrows pinched together at her response. "How big of a turtle could this man have gotten you. Is it like a Giant Tortoise or something?"

"Big," (y/n) laughed nervously. "I'm pretty sure Francoeur is taller than you are."

(Y/n) thought David's eyes were about to jump out of his head at her words. He was completely baffled. The man's mouth opened and closed a few times as he tried to think up a response. Any response. He couldn't tell if this was some kind of joke, or if their boss was actually crazy enough to have not only found but gift a giant monster turtle. Ultimately, David could only voice one question, his main concern.

"Is this thing, dangerous?"

"Well..." She started again, once again nervous. "I'm sure he is dangerous in his own right, but I don't think he's going to hurt me. Besides, he's still recovering. We finally got the base level burns healed up."

"Base level burns? Where did this thing come from? Hell?"

"Be nice," (Y/n) suddenly got defensive. "He's been through a lot ok. I'm sure Francoeur just wants to go back to his family, but I can't exactly get him there when we are constantly monitored in my apartment. Even if I tried to make it so he 'ran away' he's in no condition to move quickly."

The man stared at his partner for a moment before sighing. "You get attached too fast you know? Just be careful with this thing, ok. I don't want you to get hurt. Physically or emotionally. Kapeesh?"

"Kapeesh." (Y/n) agreed with a stultifying nod. "Now, break time's over. Can you start at measure eleven of Maybe?"

Without a word, David played the first few notes of the measure. (Y/n) smiled in response before taking a breath and singing the section. The next few hours breezed by before the friends ended the night with dinner together. When the girl went to leave however, David stopped her with another word of caution about her pet. He then kissed her head and let her go, leaving her with her thoughts.

She supposed that David had a point. A giant pet of any kind could be dangerous. His worry was justified. Maybe if he met Francoeur his thoughts on the matter would change. Or...was he just right. The poor turtle had been through hell, most likely at the hands of one of (y/n)'s best friends. He had every right to be angry. Him directing it towards his new owner would not be too terribly far-fetched. Neither would Francoeur attempt to run for it while she was away.

That thought made her stomach drop. She didn't want him to run away. (Y/n) liked Francoeur. He was interesting, even if he couldn't speak. Not to mention no one ever wanted to watch Sci-fi with her. He also woke up early and walked laps around the gym as she worked out. The company alone was a pleasant change. If he was gone, so was everything he brought to her. Now with a new sense of urgency the girl punched in her code and threw the door open.

"Francoeur," she called into the apartment while shutting the door. "Are you still awake?"

No response. (y/n) took a deep breath to keep her mind from jumping to conclusions as she kicked off her flats. He's probably just in bed, she told herself before wandering down the main hall to the living room. Upon turning the corner, she froze.

Francoeur hadn't left. Instead, he was asleep on the couch, tucked under a blanket while the ending scenes of Attack of the Clones played on the television. The sight made (y/n) smile. Her pet looked so peaceful while he slept. Quietly she approached and turned off the move before sitting on the coffee table beside the turtle. She felt bad that she was about to wake him, but the couch would certainly not help with his recovery. Sleeping in a bed would be much better.

So carefully she reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder. (y/n) expected the shaking to stir him, but not scare him to the extent it had. Before she could process it, Francoeur had grabbed her by the wrist, flipped her over the back of the couch, and pinned her to the floor. He glared down at her until her shocked yelp faded into the air. The noise was all it took to wake him, and instantly send him into a new panic.

"S-s..." he tried to speak while frantically releasing her wrists.

Luckily, when the shock faded (y/n) laughed in disbelief. "Damn Francoeur, you really are a ninja huh."

Sheepishly her pet nodded as he stood up and offered her a hand. With a smile, (Y/n) took it, allowing the turtle to pull her to her feet. While laughing the girl rubbed the back of her head, where it made contact with the wood floor. Once again Francoeur attempted to speak, only for the girl to shush him.

"If you're trying to apologize, it's ok. I scared you." The girl reassured him. "I just didn't want you to cause yourself stiff muscles by sleeping on the couch. The bed will be much better for you."

***

Laundry day landed on Thursday. It only took (y/n) two loads to wash what she needed, but thanks to the nature of her work attire, as soon as the items came out of the washer, they had to be hung up in various locations around the apartment. By dinner time, Francoeur was struggling to walk from room to room without running into a dress, or worse, an undergarment of his owner's that was drying. Playing it safe, he chose to simply stay close to the girl as she went about her day.

Luckily this made his daily check-up easier for her to do, the end of which came with the joy filled announcement that his eyes seemed all better, and also gave her an extra set of hands when it came to the switching and putting away of her laundry. As of right now the pair were working in the master bedroom together. As Francoeur folded her clothes (y/n) collected them to put back where the items belonged. In the end, the girl simply had to run out into the hall to put towels into the linen closet before they could officially call it a day.

In the few minutes that she was gone, her wall art once again caught the turtle's attention. Specifically, her degrees. She has two science degrees, why isn't she using them, he thought to himself. Sure, (y/n) was a wonderful singer, but with degrees like that it just seemed like she could be doing more with her life. There was also the matter of how young she was. How she had not one, but two college degrees as a twenty-year-old baffled him. Francoeur was so lost in thought about the framed documents that he hadn't realized his owner had returned until she spoke.

"I see you finally found my degrees," (y/n) began as she moved to stand beside him. "I graduated about a year ago. Science came easy to me, so choosing science majors was kinda a given."

Well, that gave him a few answers but there was still something weighing on him, so clearing his throat Francoeur managed to croak out a single word. "Y-young."

(Y/n) hummed, surprised that he had spoken, but soon smiled. "Oh, yeah. I guess I am young to have them. I graduated high school at fifteen and started college the next year. My dad was an amazing support system for me. We moved from New Mexico to New York just for me to attend Columbia.

"He really wanted me to be a scientist just like him. I almost chose to focus on herpetology, so I could be just like him. Ultimately I shifted to microbiology instead, and then had some extra time so I picked up a physics degree as well."

Suddenly, her eyes became distant, and her voice softened. "When he died, my father told me he was proud of me. Proud that I followed in his footsteps, proud of my internship, proud of my degrees..." Her voice began to break as (y/n) wrapped her arms around herself for comfort. "He never wanted me to pursue music... If he saw me now... what would he think?"

When her voice petered off into nothingness, Francoeur turned his head. (Y/n) was staring at the ground, tightly gripping her sleeves as silent tears rushed down her cheeks. He never imagined she'd open up to him like this, nor that she was hurting so much because of her decisions. He wasn't quite sure what to do.

His actions were full of hesitance, as he attempted to work on instinct. First, he placed a hand on her shoulder, causing (y/n) to quickly look up at him. Next, he broke a line of her tears with his finger. She leaned into his touch. Finally, he took a breath and opened his arms for her. (y/n) didn't even hesitate as she rushed forward, wrapping her arms around his shell as her face buried itself in his plastron. Her crying then became harder.

Francoeur wrapped his arms around the girl in return, and simply let her cry. She seemed like she needed this, and he would be right. For so long (y/n) hadn't allowed herself too deep of thought about her father, and his potential thoughts of her life choices. It always hurts too much. Yet standing here, telling Francoeur about him, and simply crying. It felt as if a weight was being lifted off her shoulders.

The pain in her chest finally evaporated away when her turtle carefully pet her hair and forced out another single word. "Proud."

She held onto him tighter. (Y/n) didn't know if Francoeur was saying he was proud of her, or if he thought that her father was proud. Admittedly, it didn't matter to her. That single word was all she needed. Someone, anyone who mattered to her, to be proud of her. It took a few more moments, but soon, her tears dried, and she released her pet front he embraced. When she stepped away, she was met with a soft smile which she eagerly returned, before wiping her eyes, and grabbing his hand so that they could start to make dinner.

***

The weekend was long. After both Friday and Saturday's performance, (y/n) was pleasantly surprised to find Francoeur waiting for her, but she could tell he was ready for a day where she wouldn't be gone. So, when Sunday came, the pair woke early and started their day as usual, in the gym. As (y/n) worked through her usual regimen Francoeur walked laps. Every morning he would make it nearly fifty laps before his owner finished her work out. Today, however, she had a different plan. With the exception of his throat, which was still visibly irritated when she checked, her turtle was nearly back to peak health. He could certainly do more than just walk (y/n) decided, and she was going to motivate him to do just that.

"So! Francoeur the ninja turtle. Wanna show me some moves?" she called out to him, only for her turtle to look back at her with extreme amounts of hesitation. "Come on, you're practically good as new, and at this point could probably use some physical therapy." (Y/n) pressed before moving towards a sparring mat she had laid out in the center of the room.

She then eyed her turtle before waving a hand, indicating for him to approach. Which extreme hesitation he complied, only to shake his head when she attempted to pull him onto the mat. Francoeur flickered his eyes between hers and the mat for a few moments before shaking his head again. This was a bad idea. (Y/n) was right, he was good as new, which means he could seriously hurt her in a spar.

As if reading his mind, (y/n) chose that moment to giggle. "Francoeur, are you worried about me?" She asked him, earning a nod in return. With her usual kind smile, the girl approached and placed a hand on her turtle's shoulder. "Trust me, I'll be fine. I didn't earn that black belt for nothing."

Finally, he gave in, and the pair began to spar. He put up very little fight, focusing mainly on defense as (y/n) lunched, punched and kicked at him. When needed he would toss in a simple attack, but it was easy to dodge. If you would have asked him, Francoeur would have insisted that he was being subtle with his lack of effort, but (y/n) would say otherwise.

After her fourth time pinning her larger opponent (y/n) leaned over him from her perch over his hips. "You're going easy on me, Francoeur. Come on, I'm not made of porcelain." She teased while poking between his eyes. "Just try one round, at full strength. Unless of course, you're afraid, Turtle."

The taunting worked. IF this girl wanted a fight, she would get a fight. The turtle simply hoped that she knew what she was getting into. So, as they got into position this time, they thought back to the previous rounds. She nursed her left ankle; it would be best for him to aim his attacks that way. But not at first. No. This was going to last.

Back and forth the two alternated between offense and defense. Francoeur accepted the hits that landed against his plastron, just as (y/n) accepted the bruises slowly forming on her side. After a while, she went for his wrist, but Francoeur took it as his opening. Ducking under her, he skillfully flipped the girl with an admittedly, obscene amount of strength.

(y/n) landed with a thud when her pet finally managed to throw her over his shoulder. At first, the sound was so jarring that the turtle panicked. Too strong, his mind shouted at him as he rushed over to look down at his owner. To his surprise when they made eye contact (y/n) began to laugh. Francoeur's eyes widened at the noise, but still, he helped her to her feet as soon as her arm was outstretched to him.

"Ok ok, you win. You are the almighty ninja turtle." She praised causing a cocky grin to appear on Francoeur's face as he nodded proudly. "Now, how about some victory ice cream."

***

After the weekend finally ended, Francoeur and (y/n) found themselves back into the peaceful routine of their weekday. Start the morning off with sometime in the gym before getting ready for the day and doing a few chores. If there is enough on the list, that would take them until dinner, which is how the day worked out for them this Monday. After eating their frozen pizza, which Francoeur insisted on, laid across the couch, watching the last hour of space heroes that their favorite cartoon channel was playing.

When the programming changed the pair began their search for something else to watch. Lazily, (y/n) reached for the remote as she crossed her ankles in her pet's lap. Channel after channel she listed the programming before looking back at Francoeur for approval. So far, no dice.

"Ghost hunters?" (y/n) asked and Francoeur shook his head 'No'. "Chopped?" another no. "Basketball?" Once again he said no.

A groan left the girl's mouth as she lightly kicked his thigh. This had been going on for about twenty minutes now. They couldn't seem to agree on anything to watch tonight and it was starting to get frustrating. Her turtle grabbed (y/n)'s ankle after her attack, sending her a quick glare before placing it on his lap along with her other foot. She could tell from this look that he had officially reached the point of not giving a shit what they watched as long as something was chosen.

So, turning back to the television, (y/n) scrolled until she finally passed all of the news channels and landed on some art network. The Italian Renaissance, a Revolutionary Birth. Not an ideal show, but it would work. After all, it was already late. The pair were simply looking for a lazy show to watch until they felt tired enough for bed. Hopefully, (y/n) thought, this will be boring enough to put us to sleep.

When she selected the challenge Francoeur released a heavy breath from his nose. Never in his twenty-one years of life had he chosen an art documentary to watch. He had done it to himself, he supposed and decided that he should have just said yes to Chopped when he had the chance. Anything would have been better than this, he mused to himself as he slumped further into the couch cushions.

The first hour of the program passed uneventfully. Francoeur felt ready to pass out, while (y/n) distracted herself on her cell phone. The girl had somehow managed to find the most boring art documentary ever, the pair had decided, but neither would admit it. So instead, they listened to the soft timber of the Scottish narrator as she went over one point perspective.

We see a wonderful example of this in this famous painting. The last supper by Leonardo Di Vinci. Suddenly Turtle sat up a bit straighter while nudging (y/n)'s feet with such force that one fell from his lap to the floor. With a wince she looked at him curiously only to find her pet urgently pointing at the television in front of them. Confused, she paused it and squinted at the screen. They were panning over Di Vinci's last supper. Nothing that extraordinary.

"You ok there, Francoeur?" she finally asked her pet who jumped to his feet and approached the television pointing more intently at it. "The last supper? We literally just ate a huge bowl of Popcorn. How are you still hungry?"

The turtle vigorously shook his head in response as he pointed once again at the screen and squeaked out a single word. "N-name."

"Name?" She asked curiously before taking a moment to process. After a second passed it hit her. "Oh! Your name! It's on the screen!"

The girl then stood herself in favor of moving to stand in front of the television. The turtle was just poignant to the center of the screen. Directly at Jesus. Her face dropped. Was her pet turtle's name seriously Jesus? With disbelief draped across her face she looked back at him.

"Your name is Jesus really?" Francoeur looked surprised at first at her guess but quickly shook his head no. "No? Ok then how about Thomas?"

Once again she got a no. Down the line we go I guess. She thought before beginning to list all twelve of Jesus' apostles before huffing irritatedly. Her pet didn't seem to be in much better shape when it came to his patience, for once she said 'the other James' he rolled his eyes and turned to face the screen himself. That was when he knelt down and literally touched the screen directly over the Artist's name.

"Leonardo Di Vinci?" (y/n) mumbled before the realization hit her like a ton of bricks. "Leonardo! Your name is Leonardo?!"

The turtle grinned widely as he nodded and scratchily said. "Yeah."

(Y/n) jumped up with a wide smile before hugging her pet. "Ah! I love it! That name is absolutely perfect! Leonardo, The best pet turtle."

Francoeur, no, Leonardo rolled his eyes at the addition of 'pet' but didn't fault the girl for it. Instead, he returned the hug and lightly ran her ponytail though his fingers. Warmth filled his chest as he thought about her excitement. It was comforting that she found such joy in the little things that made him less of an object and more of a living being. Not that she would ever know, but really (y/n) simply being (y/n) was making this whole situation more bearable. Deep down, however, he knew that it would almost make leaving that much harder.