i go there with you

Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/41727579.

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply
Category: Gen
Fandom: Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (Cartoon 2018)
Relationship: Casey Jones & Leonardo (TMNT), Donatello & Raphael (TMNT),
Leonardo & Michelangelo (TMNT), Donatello & Leonardo (TMNT),
Hamato Yoshi | Splinter & Leonardo, Donatello & April O'Neil (TMNT),
Donatello & Leonardo & Michelangelo & Raphael (TMNT)
Character: Michelangelo (TMNT), Leonardo (TMNT), Raphael (TMNT), Donatello
(TMNT), Splinter | Lou Jitsu, April O'Neil (TMNT), Casey Jones (TMNT),
Baron Draxum (TMNT), Señor Hueso (TMNT)
Additional Tags: Whumptober 2022, Post-Movie: Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja
Turtles (2022), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Injury
Recovery, Angst and Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Autistic Donatello (TMNT),
Leonardo Has ADHD (TMNT), Blood, Panic Attacks, Unhealthy Coping
Mechanisms, Nightmares, Dissociation, Psychological Trauma,
Implied/Referenced Character Death, sort of but not really, the boys are
not okay, and that's okay!, Donatello and Leonardo are Twins (TMNT),
Platonic Cuddling, Recovery, big emphasis on the Comfort and
Recovery here kiddos!
Language: English
Stats: Published: 2022-10-01 Updated: 2023-02-06 Chapters: 16/? Words:
22890

i go there with you

by bobtheacorn

Summary

"Mikey! You are able-bodied and not currently serving a life-long ban from the mystic
library like Raphael, so I need you to accompany me."

Mikey decides to be belligerent to Donnie's perfectly amicable request and hits him back
with a bright smile, "Sure thing, Dee! But first: When was the last time you slept? And
blacking out at your computer DOES NOT count!"

"I refuse to answer on the grounds that any statement I make will be incriminating."

"Okay. So we can go after you have a nap, then."

Donnie could assert that he is fine and try to convince Mikey he will take a nap after they
get back, but it is essential that they go to the library now, while the things Donnie wants to
look for are fresh in his mind................. but he isn't willing to expend the energy.
--chapter 16; a battered fragment of something bigger
/Some of Whumptober2022's prompts, coalesced into a post-movie trauma-recovery fic,
because what is life without suffering!
 episodes of vacuity
Chapter Summary

No. 1 A LITTLE OUT OF THE ORDINARY

Adverse Effects | Unconventional Restraints | "This wasn't supposed to happen"

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

"...ael? Hellooo, Angelooo. Ange. Angeroni. ….MIKEY!"

Mikey jolts, belatedly registering his brother's voice - it comes at him through a dense fog. He
flinches at the bright light that's suddenly shining right in his face. A hand swoops in to hold him
still, another forcing open one of his eyelids.

"Wh-wha -?!"

The now-inescapable light makes Mikey's eye water.

Donnie's voice is somewhere behind it, "That's the third time today that I've caught you zoning out
and it's only 10:47am, and the eleventh time overall in the past three days. These episodes of
vacuity are getting worse. Did you experience any head trauma during the fight that you didn't tell
us about? It's okay if you did, but it's imperative that I know so I can get a scan of your fragile
pubescent brain -"

"What?! Nonono, I'm fine!"

Mikey flutters his hands, but Donnie doesn't let him go. He just moves the light to Mikey's other
eye and Mikey momentarily sees blinding shades of blue and yellow.

"Have you been experiencing headaches?" Donnie asks urgently.

"No?"

"Any nausea?"

"No. Really, I'm -"

"Any blurred vision, ringing in your ears, weird tastes or smells, or lack thereof -"

"No."

"Lack thereof is very important, Mikey, are you certain?"

"Yes! I -"

"Any dizziness, sensitivity to lights or sounds, trouble recognizing common items -"

"Donnie, I promise -"

"- recognizing us, or forming new memories?"

"No," Mikey insists, "Donnie, bro, I'm literally fine!"

Donnie hums skeptically.

The light retreats and Mikey blinks hard as the room comes back into focus. He's sitting on a
beanbag in the living room. He'd been watching cartoons and eating breakfast - the empty cereal
bowl is on the stack of bricks serving as a table, but Mikey doesn't remember setting it down. His
half-eaten cereal's gone soggy. A sepia-toned cartoon flickers from the projector beside him. It's
completely different from the one he'd been watching.

He did zone out…. Again.

He didn't even hear Donnie come in. Donnie is crouched in front of him, swallowed in an over-
large purple hoodie, his eyebrows furrowed, lips pursed, finger crooked against his chin as he
types on his phone. Mikey rocks forward and sees the red messenger boxes. Before he can read any
of it, Donnie swipes out of the app and looks up at him.

"Don't text Raph, Donnie," Mikey despairs, clapping his hands together, "I'm totally fine."

"Yes, I heard you say that," Donnie acknowledges with apparent disinterest.

Mikey almost, almost misses the three days immediately after the Krang invasion when Donnie
probably said five entire words, total, to anyone, and mostly only answered yes-or-no questions
with a nod, or a shrug, or a head-shake. (But not really, because it really freaked him out. Mikey
has grown up with Donnie's occasional nonverbal spells. Sometimes he just needs to be left alone
for a few hours to recharge. But he's never gone nonverbal for days - and Leo was always the one
to coax him out of them if he did, and Leo has been unconscious since right after they pulled him
from the portal.)

"Any numbness in your extremities?" Donnie asks. When Mikey opens his mouth to say no even
though he isn't sure what his extremities are, Donnie elaborates, lowering his phone to reach out
and grab Mikey by the foot and give him a little shake, "Hands and feet? Arms and legs? Fingers
and toes?"

Oh….

Mikey hesitates with a sinking feeling. He flexes his hands absently, the bandages tugging with the
movement. He doesn't look at them. He doesn't have to. The bandages are wrapped, stark and
white, around every finger on both hands, all the way up to his elbows.

"Very concerned about the marked absence of an outright, if exasperated, negatory, Michelangelo."

"No I'm - I'm fine. Really," Mikey says, smiling to belay a sudden surge of nervousness, "At least,
I'm pretty sure I don't have head trauma or anything…!"

The frown on Donnie's face makes it plain that he does not find this reassuring in the slightest and
he proves it by lifting his phone again and firing off a text without even looking at the screen.
Mikey winces. In the distance, he hears a clatter, a bang, and then heavy, thundering footsteps that
grow louder and louder by the second.

Mikey goes on anyway, wringing his hands together and glancing toward the door, trying to
explain, "But - but I do have some numbness, I guess. In my hands. Not all the time! Just every
now and then. And it doesn't hurt or anything, they just feel weird and tingly, and sometimes it
shoots up my arms…. It's just from making that portal thing!"

Donnie's severely judgemental expression slackens at once.

Raph throws himself up the staircase, bellowing, "WHAT'S WRONG WITH MY BABY BRO!" If
there was a door, he would have kicked in, but the abandoned subway station is all archways,
stairs, and open rooms with vaulted ceilings.

Mikey throws his hands up in exasperation.

"NOTHING! I'm FINE, Raph!!"

"Are you sure?!" Raph demands around his tears, bravado bursting like a balloon.

"YES!"

Sometimes being the baby brother of worry-warts and egomaniacs is hard.

Donnie's brief surprise has already receded; he's back to frowning contemplatively at his phone, his
thumb flicking over the screen, eyes darting back and forth while he reads. Raph comes over to
kneel beside the beanbag, as well. Mikey watches his expression tighten slightly before he shifts
his weight to the knee that isn't sprained. The wound on his shoulder has a heavy bandage covering
it, but there's no covering up the jagged hole in the top of his shell and his cracked plastron.

"Donnie said you had trauma to your brain," Raph says with a slight accusatory tone and look
thrown at said brother.

Donnie doesn't look up or sound repentant, "I may have exaggerated."

"May have ex-" Raph cuts himself off with a groan and an eye-roll, shaking his head. "Donnie. We
talked about this. You can't keep scarin' everybody -"

"Segue - how's your arm, Raphie?" Donnie interrupts, glancing away from his phone at last.

"What?"

"The left one," Donnie says, pointing, "Injury aside. Any numbness, tingling, or general loss of
sensation? Maybe it feels like a buzzing just underneath the skin, or an itch you can't scratch. Like
the rush you get from summoning your mystic weapon, only on fire."

Donnie's description is very specific.

Raph frowns, first at Donnie for a long moment, then at Mikey, then at his own hand. He squeezes
it into a fist, mulling over the question.

Mikey doesn't know why he didn't think of it before. Of course Raph and Donnie would be feeling
it too. Mikey might have been the one to rip open that portal thing with his bare hands, but he
knows he never would have been able to do it if his brothers hadn't been there to hold him together.
Or if he had been able to do it, the task would have torn him apart. It had felt like grabbing a hot
tea kettle off the stove and burning his palms.

Like grabbing a star going supernova.

But Leo was safe, he was hurt bad but he was with them, and Mikey hasn't thought twice about his
jittery nerves and numb fingers or the fact that he can barely hold a cereal bowl right now. He's just
grateful. But he can still feel that heat inside of himself. That rawness that makes him feel like he's
 going to shatter apart at any second.

"I dunno," Raph admits. His voice is weirdly muffled. "I guess a little. I didn't really think about
it, with the shoulder and all. Everything feels kinda weird and gross after…"

"After being molested by an alien entity? Samesies."

"I really wish you would not say it like that, Donnie. I know you’ve got a thesaurus in your brain,
please just hit shuffle and pick literally any other word."

"I’ll take that into consideration. Michael."

Donnie snaps his fingers near Mikey's face.

The sound is sharp enough to jolt him back again.

"The fourth time," Donnie intones, noting the time and typing on his phone, "Does the tingling
occur before or after these dissociative episodes?"

"Umm… I'm not sure." Mikey flexes his hands again, looking at them thoughtfully. "They feel fine
right now. There's a little tingling, I guess." Mikey feels guilty for worrying everybody - he's the
least hurt because everyone else, especially Donnie, was protecting him the whole time - so he
does the thing his brothers do when they don't wanna talk about stuff. He redirects, aiming at
Donnie, "Does your arm get all weird and stuff?"

"Yes, but I attributed it to something else."

The statement is cryptic and Donnie doesn't elaborate. Raph and Mikey share an anxious glance.
The familiar scurry of rat feet draws all of their attention to the staircase, where Splinter appears,
breathless with relief as he announces,

"Boys! He's awake!!"

Chapter End Notes

UGH oscillating wildly between Wait And Finish Writing The Entire Thing Before U
Post It, and You Wrote At Least Five Of Them Specifically For Whumptober Just Post
More WIPS You Coward! So here I go again! Will I be able to post daily???? Probably
not. But will I perservere anyway??? Maybe! lmao

Thank u guys for reading! Sorry in advance lol

 the thing inside of him that breaks
Chapter Summary

No. 2 NOWHERE TO RUN

Cornered | Caged | Confrontation

The atmosphere of the prison dimension sucks all the warmth right out of Leo. After the righteous,
thrilling relief of closing the portal and the heat from the Technodrome’s explosion as it’s
destroyed; the cold, dead, quiet that follows is a shock to the system. Leo feels chilled, all the way
down to his core.

That’s kind of a good thing - he barely feels the blow from hard metal hands, barely feels the thing
inside him that breaks under the Krang's rage.

But it's scary… Leo remembers being this cold once when he was a kid. The only time on accident
that he slipped into that weird Not-Quite-Awake, Not-Quite-Asleep state where he couldn't move
and barely breathed and didn’t eat or drink or speak for days. Not to crack a joke, or tease his
brothers, or to answer his dad's anxious questions even though he was aware of them. They just
kept cycling in and out of his attention until he woke up properly in his dad’s bed with his brothers
laying on top of him.

This feels like that, only worse.

This time, Leo isn't surrounded by his family, gradually warming in their embrace.

He's alone.

And he's scared.

And he doesn't want to be awake. Not for this. Not for the Krang's vile screaming, not for the
fathomless empty space around him that’s choked with debris and haunting corpses; not for the
pain bursting and burning through cracks in the cold, in his aching, broken body. It's bad enough to
be trapped here with no hope of escape. It's bad enough knowing he's going to die in this place.

That's the choice he made.

Leo's scared, and he's alone…. but he's so glad he's alone.

He's glad that he's the sole focus of the Krang's anger now. He's glad that his brothers are safe, that
his dad and April are safe, that Casey is safe - that everyone on earth is safe from this horrible
monster and the evil future Leo's stupid, reckless, selfish mistake created. He's glad he could do
something useful after causing so much trouble.

He's glad he's going to die.

The cold is bearable. So is the pain.

But Leo's scared, and he's alone, and he doesn't want to be anymore.
 his whole heart
Chapter Summary

No. 3 A HAIR'S BREADTH FROM DEATH

Gun to Temple | "Say goodbye." | Impaled

No. 4 DEAD ON YOUR FEET

Hidden Injury | Waking Up Disoriented | Can't Pass Out

Getting impaled sucked.

Just so everybody knows: Not. Fun. Definitely not something Raph wants to experience ever again,
and even then it was also probably the least awful thing about this whole Krang Situation. Raph
barely even felt it at the time. He'd been so scared for Leo - he saw that spike coming down and
felt like he'd swallowed his whole heart.

Leo's a knucklehead.

But Raph loves him more than anything.

That's his obnoxious little brother.

Raph has always taken care of Leo and Mikey and Donnie before he's ever thought to take care of
himself. He's always been responsible for them. He knew his Dad was dealing with a lot of stuff
when they were growing up - he didn't understand all that until he got older, but he had already
stepped willfully into the role that he had to because he was the oldest, and the biggest, and the
strongest. They were left more and more to their own devices once they started walking and talking
(and getting into mischief), and Raph naturally filled up the space that Splinter's growing
inattentiveness left wide open.

Raph made sure his brothers ate. He made sure they brushed their teeth and took baths. He kept
them entertained.

He kept them safe.

Of course he doesn't hesitate.

Of course he throws himself bodily in front of the thing that's going to hurt his brother.

He doesn’t regret it. He doesn’t regret making sure that Leo was going to make it out of there alive,
that he was going to go home. But Raph does regret that his actions put a lot of pressure on Leo -
pressure he needed to come to grips with, anyway - but still. He regrets that maybe he’s the reason
Leo felt like he had to do what he did at the end of that fight.

Leo even told him that; you’re one to talk.

That was almost the last thing his brother ever said to him. Raph regrets that. He’s going to carry
that guilt around in his chest until he dies.
A little shoulder wound is nothing compared to that.

And it's nothing compared to the way the relief Raph feels at Leo being awake, finally, after
almost a week of being down for the count, get obliterated the second they actually get to the
medbay. Raph is expecting to see Leo's stupid, grinning face and hear him chirping out some
horrible pun or sassy comment. What he finds, instead, is Leo on the floor beside the bed, barely
conscious but struggling desperately to free himself from the IVs and wires tethering him to the life
monitors.

April and Casey are practically on top of him, trying to stop him from hurting himself more.

"Sensei, please…!"

"Leo, baby, c'mon! It's us!"

Leo doesn't seem to hear them at all. He moans and thrashes. April has tried to wrestle him into her
lap so she can hold his head still and not make his spine injury worse. Leo swings his arm, even
with Casey holding onto it, and the IV rips free.

Blood spurts from his arm.

Casey flinches but hangs on like a champ. Donnie, on the other hand, balks halfway to them,
sways, turns, and pukes (thankfully into the wastebasket by the counter).

Mikey surges forward to help, instead.

"Leo! Hey, what's wrong!?" He grabs Leo's flailing ankle - the one that isn't in a huge, heavy cast -
when Leo nearly kicks him. "Leo -"

Leo panics. He whimpers and twists. He elbows Casey in the face. He kicks harder, knocking
Mikey down, and the first genuine noise Leo makes is a harsh cry of pain. His movements are
considerably weaker after that, but he's still trying to get free and clawing at his arm, at the
bandages, at his face, until Casey grabs his wrist again.

"Stop!" Raph says, his voice wavering, "You guys're makin' it worse! Let 'im go!"

April grits out, "But Donnie said he shouldn't move…!"

Donnie moans something into the trash can before his stomach heaves and he pukes again. Raph
hears him around a weird ringing in his ears - he turns toward the counter and grabs the sedative on
the metal tray. It's a small vial filled with clear liquid. It's really tiny. Raph doesn't realize how bad
he's shaking until he nearly drops it. He's afraid he's going to crush it in his big hand, and then how
is he gonna help Leo -

One of Splinter's hands takes the vial from him, the other resting briefly, gently, on Raph's wrist.
It's immediately steadying.

Raph breathes, and doesn't remember when he stopped.

Splinter grabs the syringe that was also on the counter and quickly fills it from the vial. Casey and
Mikey double down, laying across Leo to keep him still, Casey across his chest, pinning his arms,
and Mikey across his knees. April cradles his head between her hands. Splinter kneels beside his
son and says softly, "Leonardo."

Even half-conscious, Leo quiets at once.

He stops struggling - Mikey and Casey sigh with relief and ease up, but don't let go entirely. Casey
reaches back to grasp Leo's arm to hold it still, and Splinter sticks him with the needle. Leo's breath
still carves in and out of him, hitching on a moan of pain. He tenses again, another fractured noise
shuddering out of him. The heart monitor he's still attached to is beeping, frantic with his racing
pulse and a host of other alarms.

Leo's left eye flutters open, dark and unfocused; the right one is swollen shut and bruised so
heavily his marking is a deep purple-blue rather than its usual striking red. Leo's head turns in
Splinter's direction, and his voice cracks out of him,

"Daddy…?"

"I'm right here, Leonardo," Splinter says gently, resting his soft, warm, wrinkled palm on Leo's
forehead. The other one reaches down to grasp Leo's hand and holds it carefully. Raph saw his
pops cry once, in the subconsciousness of his own mind, grieving anew the loss of a loved one
after sixty long years, and he is really not prepared to see it again. "You're safe now. Just rest, my
son. You are with your family and we are taking care of you."

It's just as hard watching Leo's expression crumble.

It's hard hearing the sob that slips out of him, and seeing the tears flood down his face.

He tries to roll forward, reaching for Splinter, and because the movement isn't quick or violent -
because Leo is crying - Casey gets out of the way. Mikey climbs off Leo's legs, steps around
behind him and hovers there, his trembling hands a hair's breadth from Leo's heavily bandaged
shell. April pushes Leo over into Splinter's arms and stands up, and Leo sinks into his father's
welcoming embrace.
 reassurance
Chapter Summary

No. 5 EVERY WHUMPEE’S NEEDS

Blood Loss | Running Out of Air | Hyperthermia

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

April has to take a deep breath after all that.

"Pardon my French but damn," she says.

She swipes the back of her wrist across her forehead; looks down at her hands, dismayed to see
Leo's blood on them. She holds them gingerly in front of her. Everybody getting re-traumatized
today….

At least the sedative has kicked in.

Leo's breathing is slow, broken by an occasional hitch, a soft moan, but he's not thrashing around
anymore and that's a relief all by itself. Scariest thing ever. And April O'Neil has seen some scary-
ass things. Leo's lying limply across Splinter's lap now with his head in the crook of Splinter's arm,
his face pressed into the front of Splinter's robe. He's so much bigger than his dad that it might be
funny if it wasn't devastating , the way Splinter doesn't hesitate to put his hands on Leo to comfort
him, but has to be wary of the multitude of bruises and bandages covering his son's poor broken
body.

April has to look away.

Casey has moved over to the sink and is washing Leo's blood off his face and hands.

Donnie is sitting with his back to them, with the trash can pulled close between his spread knees.
He's not actively puking his guts out anymore, but he has his elbows propped on the edge of the
can and both hands covering his face.

He hasn't said a word.

Not a great sign.

He just started talking again the other day…

Mikey is sitting in the floor beside Leo and Splinter, air pushed into his cheeks and held with
pursed lips so he doesn't cry. His eyes swim with tears and spill over when he blinks. He holds
Leo's still-bleeding arm wrapped in a towel, but can't seem to keep the pressure on it. His hands are
shaking and the towel darkens steadily.

April turns to find another one and crouches beside him, trying to take Leo's arm herself.

"C'mon, Mikey," she says gently, "It's okay, baby, I got this."
Mikey's mouth wobbles and he whimpers. More tears spill down his face as he stares determinedly
down at his brother's arm. But after a moment, he slowly lets go. April sets the other towel aside
and wraps the new one firmly around Leo's arm, only pausing when Leo makes a sharp noise of
pain and an aborted attempt to pull his arm back. Splinter soothes him, rubbing Leo's shell, and
Leo quiets again.

April folds her hands around the towel and holds it firmly in place.

Mikey lays his hands over hers. April can't stand seeing this kid cry. She leans forward headbuts
Mikey gently, rubs her forehead against his so her hair tickles his face. A reluctant giggle bubbles
out of Mikey around a sniffle and April smiles, satisfied.

He's an easy one.

Poor Raph is standing in the middle of the room looking like he doesn't know where he is or what
to do. His voice breaks when he asks,

"What - what even happened?"

He spreads his arms in a big gesture. His tone is pretty harsh, but April knows he's just scared, so
she explains, at least as much as she can: "He started waking up and Splintz went to get you guys,
and - I dunno! I don't think he was awake all the way. Maybe the IV's freaked him out - he kept
trying to rip them out, so Casey grabbed him to stop him, and then he just went nuts! I tried to
catch him when he rolled off the bed but he's heavy."

"Is he okay?" Donnie's voice is faint, and an earnest surprise. April is still relieved to hear it.

"He is fine, Donatello," Splinter says.

The heart monitor beeps, steady and slow, a testament to their father's reassurance.

Donnie pulls in a deep breath and it shudders out of him, his whole body drooping with relief.
April is surprised he's not whipping out a clipboard and asking all of them to rate their experience -
he's so stressed he just upchucked at the sight of blood, and blood by itself has never really
bothered him too much.

"Sorry," Donnie chokes, "For not - doing anything. That really caught me off guard I - I couldn't -"

"Donnie," Raph says gently, "It's fine."

"No, it is not fine," Donnie says, his voice strained and heavy with more emotion than April thinks
she's ever heard from him before, even when he's posturing for drama's sake. Donnie heaves out
another trembling sigh, sucks in a harsh breath, and digs the heels of his hands into his eyes,
shoving his mask up, his goggles off. "It's not fine it is the exact polar opposite of fine but thank
you, Raph, for your condescending platitude -"

"It wasn't condescending!" Raph says, sounding hurt.

"Don't," April cuts in. Oh she is not in the mood for this. "Raph, leave him alone and don't talk to
him if he's gonna be that way. Donnie, you can't just be mean and snappin' at people because
you're upset! Everybody's upset!"

"Hark!," Donnie says savagely, lifting his head at last and splaying his hands, "Doth mine ears
deceive me or is that perhaps someone in desperate need of heeding their own unsolicited advice?"
"Ooo, Donnie, I swear -"

"Here," Casey says.

He's come back into the medbay - April hadn't even noticed him leave - and he stops beside
Donnie and the trash can, holding out a chilled bottle of ginger ale for him to take. Donnie stares at
it, eyebrows warring between fury and indignation. After a moment, visibly reluctant but also
making an effort, Donnie takes the bottle and instead of saying thank you says, "Just what I needed:
an artificially-flavored carbonated beverage to ease my trauma-induced gastrointestinal distress…."

"You're welcome," Casey says genuinely, like he's used to Donnie's shitty attitude.

April supposes in a way he is.

Casey crosses over to her and Mikey next, proffering a fresh roll of bandages. April peels back the
towel and checks Leo's arm to make sure the bleeding has stopped, then slowly works the soiled
bandage loose so she can replace it.

A lot of his bandages need to be checked. He probably needs another full-body scan after all that
thrashing around.

April doesn't want to worry everyone, but as she's cleaning up the wound a bit and wrapping the
new bandage, she has to ask, "How much blood loss is bad…?"

Casey says, "A lot more than this."

At the same time Donnie says, "20 percent or more." There's a pause as Donnie sips the beverage
he didn't want and checks his phone - it's synced to Leo's vitals monitor, and Donnie has barely put
it down since he set everything up. After a quick glance, he adds, "His blood pressure is
stabilizing. Pulse rate is returning to normal. Oxygen levels are normal. Temperature's a bit
elevated, but he's not going into shock…. So yes. He'll be fine."

Donnie says it blandly, but lets out another deep sigh.

"We should just let him rest before we change the other bandages," Casey suggests, "The less
poking and prodding we do, the better, I think."

"Good idea," April says, "Raph, can you move him back to the bed?"

"Of course I can!" Raph says, relieved to have something to do.

"…This was scary," Mikey says softly.

He leans into Splinter's shoulder, and Splinter lifts his hand from where it's resting on Leo's shell
and puts his arm around Mikey. Mikey pulls his knees up and hugs his arm, blinking back another
well of tears. Raph looks like he's just about ready to burst into tears, as well, and fall on top of
them; and Donnie silently sips his ginger ale, pushing the trash can away but remaining on the
floor with his back to them, his phone in front of his face.

Splinter sighs softly, looking around at them all.

"It is scary," he agrees solemnly, rubbing Mikey's side, "And it is not fair - I do not have enough
arms to hug all of my sons!" Donnie chokes (lightly) on his ginger ale. Raph snorts, hiding his
sudden smile behind his fist, and Mikey grins, rubbing his face on Splinter's sleeve. "You are all
too big now! I should have put bricks on each of your heads years ago. I miss the good old days
 when I could scoop you all up at the same time in both my hands."

"You can if you try hard enough," April laughs, relieved, "I believe in you, Splintz."

Casey watches them, smiling.

Chapter End Notes

Posting early bc I cannnnnnn (and bc I won't have time tomorrow). Also i will use the
VAGUEST impression of some of these prompts but like afkhajlksf fuck it right

Thank you guys for reading!!

 the sun in his face
Chapter Summary

No. 6 PROOF OF LIFE

Ransom Video | "I’ve got a pulse" | Screams from Across the Hall

Leo wakes up with the sun in his face.

It's really confusing - the sun? Where is he…? There's a fuzzy memory surfacing, overwhelming
heat and light that only lasted for a second. It sends a prickle of terror crawling up Leo's spine,
pooling at the back of his jaw - a shadow that passes over his mind and threatens to smother him.
His stomach feels hot, his throat gets tight. He's going to puke. Leo lurches upright…. or tries to.

Sharp pain throbs through his whole body the second he tenses.

His breath tears out of him.

He tries to lift his arm to grab onto something grounding - anything - and feels a tug, some weird
pull just beneath his skin, something latched and squeezing and wriggling. Leo's panic is blinding.
It rips through the pain and pushes it firmly aside. He finds the strength to move then, reaching for
his arm, curling forward, only to be stopped.

"Leo! No, no no no!"

A pressure on his chest pushes him back.

It's not the hard metal claws of the Krang, Leo's mind screams. It's not stone. It's not crushing the
absolute life out of him. The sun is right there. It's shining right in his face. It's warm and it's bright
and it's not the cold, dead atmosphere of the prison dimension. There was a golden halo of light.
His brothers were there. He felt their hands. He heard their laughter.

Shit.

Did he die?

No…. He didn't die. Being dead wouldn't feel like this. He doesn't think it would feel like
anything.

Slowly, Leo realizes the weight across his body isn't hurting him, and after a second it isn't scaring
him either. He's definitely not dead. He can feel the way every one of his breaths throbs inside of
him. He can feel his heart beating in his face and hands and chest. He can feel the thing on his arm
that doesn't belong there, and that's scaring him.

The weight leaves his chest and grabs his wrist when he moves it toward his arm to rip whatever it
is off. It gets pinned gently to his chest.

"I think not! Not a second time! Hamato Leonardo, you are not ripping out another IV, do you hear
me!? …Literally, Leo, can you hear me? Are you coherent enough to speak? Nardo?"
Donnie's voice swims through the molasses in Leo's brain and pizza supreme in the sky Leo has
never been so happy to hear Donnie harping about something ever in his whole life, but that harsh,
flamboyant monotone is like a languid sip of hot cocoa on the coldest day of the year. It floods
Leo's chest with warmth and pools at his feet.

(Don't tell Donnie he said that.)

"Said what?" Donnie snaps, "Why are you smiling?"

One of Leo's eyes gets forced open - riiiight, right, he didn't bother opening his eyes. He didn't
bother because the sun is still beaming down right in his face. Also his face hurts.

Leo tries to turn his head away.

"S'bright…" he slurs.

Because his eyes (eye?) is open now, he watches Donnie, his outline sharp against the red sun,
reach up and shove the offending light aside. Oh, it's a heat lamp. That makes more sense. The
lamp wheels squeakily to the other side of the room and bumps to a stop against the cabinet. The
heat goes with it, only lingering because Donnie is still leaning over him and holding his wrist.

His weight and warmth are comforting, and Leo lets his eye drift closed again.

"Your temp was dropping," Donnie says, "I didn't want to trigger your brumation. If I let go of you,
are you going to leave the IV alone?"

That reminds Leo of the tugging, clinging thing in his arm. He can't find his voice to form an
actual word, but he manages to hum and shake his head, and makes another aborted attempt to
reach for it. It feels too much like - he can't - he can't -

Donnie's grip around his wrist tightens.

"Nardo, while I would very much prefer it if the monitors stayed on, if they're freaking you out, I
can take them off now that you're awake. But the IV has to stay. It's how you're getting vital fluids
and nutrients and medicine into your body. Here, look."

Donnie's careful grip moves to the offending arm, cradling Leo's wrist and elbow, and lifts it into
Leo's admittedly blurry line of sight.

"Look," Donnie says again.

Leo blinks hard and tries to focus as one of Donnie's long fingers taps his forearm, below the
bandage. He can see the tape keeping the needle in place, and the thin plastic tube leading out of
sight, and a Hello Kitty bandaid placed across it, probably courtesy of Raph. Man oh man, his arm
is fuuuucked up. Look at all that gnarly bruising.

What color even is that? Mikey would know.

"It's just the IV, Leo." Donnie is talking, so Leo tries to pay attention for once. "I put it there
myself. It's not - it's not… something else. It has to stay. You can't pull it out or scratch at it. It isn't
there to hurt you, I promise you it's there to help. Do you understand? Nardo. …Nardo, do you
understand that you have to leave the IV alone? Blink twice if you understand."

A laugh bursts out of Leo instead.

"Or laugh," Donnie says. He sounds irritated, but Leo knows he's relieved. "Laughter will suffice,
as well, because it's such a silly request. Obviously. Thank you for indulging me."

It's pretty feeble for a laugh and peters out quickly.

It's about all Leo can manage.

He feels like he got hit by a truck….. (He wishes he'd gotten hit by a truck.)

Leo's throat feels tight and he swallows hard, turning his head again to try and take in more of the
room as Donnie carefully lowers his arm. He recognizes the train car that serves as the med bay,
even though it's dark. There's just one light on over the desk where the computer is, by the chair
and the blanket Donnie so clearly abandoned to rush over to Leo's bedside. Leo is lying in one of
the hospital beds that they pillaged from their old lair (that they pillaged from an abandoned
hospital forever ago).

He wants to ask where the rest of his family is, but his voice is stuck again.

"The others are asleep," Donnie offers. He's carefully taking all the other wires off of Leo's arm. "I
can call them if you want."

Leo nods.

Donnie is already lifting his phone.

His other hand is still resting on Leo's forearm, just above the IV. When Leo notices and glances
down at it, slowly turning his hand over, Donnie moves his hand into Leo's and squeezes it firmly
while he talks into the phone, "Yes, Raph, he's awake for realsies. He's talking a little. No, I didn't
ask him to rate his pain, Raphael, everyone gets angry when I do. Besides, I'm certain he doesn't
have the bandwidth to articulate - for the last time it is not an "emoji" scale it is the Wong-Baker -
fine, yes, I'll get it."

Donnie sighs and rolls his eyes.

Leo notices for the first time while he's watching Donnie's face that Donnie isn't wearing his mask
- or his signature eyebrows. Leo can't help himself. It's been a minute since he saw that big
forehead in all its glory, and once he gets tickled about it, he can't seem to stop. The laughter builds
inside of him, but it only manages to escape as weak chuckles.

Donnie's eyes narrow at him.

"He's laughing again. At me, I expect. It's the morphine. Oh, I can hear your footsteps so I'm
hanging up now."

Donnie lowers the phone, and Leo's laughter subsides enough for him to hear footsteps, as well.
Raph's thundering gait and Mikey's shorter, faster stride and the shuffle of Splinter's little rat feet.
The clamor reaches its height as Leo's family hits the medbay door, only to get stuck when it slides
open because they all three try to come through at once.

Mikey manages to squeeze in first.

He squeals, "Leo!" and throws himself onto the bed.

Donnie catches him mid-air - an incredible feat for several reasons - but fumbles Mikey as if he
were a football by proxy and barely manages to keep their little brother from falling across Leo,
anyway. There's a lot of clattering as Donnie and Mikey both go down, taking a rolling stool with
them. Leo's face hurts from smiling and his chest hurts from laughing, but he's never been happier
in his life.

Raph makes it to the bed first after shoving their dad out of the way with his big hand.

"You already got a hug, old man! It's Raph's turn! Leo!"

"Don't! Crush him!" Donnie barks from the floor, "What part of multiple contusions, a shattered
carapace, and spinal fractures does everyone fail to understand! Fourteen of his bones are broken!
It's a miracle he isn't paralyzed or a vegetable!"

Raph ignores this outburst entirely and Leo is so, so grateful that he does. His big brother leans in
and scoops Leo into the biggest, gentlest, warmest hug ever. It does hurt to be moved and
squeezed, even with care, but it's so worth it to feel Raph's warmth and smell his Getting
Emotional stink. Leo breathes it in with relief. If his arms didn't feel like they were laden with wet
cement, he would absolutely hug Raph back - but the best he can do is curl his hand into the soft
fabric of Raph's pajamas.

He hangs on, even when Raph pulls back, hunkering down beside the bed and folding his arms
against Leo's side, resting his chin on them and smiling that big, snaggle-toothed smile. Slowly,
Leo lifts his hand and rests it on Raph's head, his fingers gently exploring the bandage that wraps
the right side of it, that covers Raph's eye. Leo's mouth quivers, and tears sting his eyes, and his
throat gets tight.

He squeezes his eyes closed, gasps, "'m so sorry Raph…."

"Hey. Leo, don't worry about all that." Raph reaches out, putting his hand in Leo's chest. "I heard
you, and I forgive you, okay? We're good. Besides, we match!"

He gently taps Leo's cheek, beneath his swollen eye.

Leo isn't sure if he laughs or if he sobs.

Mikey worms his way in before he has time to worry about it, fitting his skinny arms around Leo's
neck brace and snuggling in close. He rubs his face against Leo's (the side that isn't bruised) and he
hums and makes that little turtle chirping sound that he hasn't made since he was nine, and it turns
into a tumbling of words, "Omi gosh, Leo, I was so scared! Are you okay?? How do you feel???"

"Well," Leo chuckles, the pain snagging his voice, "I've got… a pulse so…"

"Oh good," Splinter says with relief. He rights the rolling stool and climbs up so he can reach Leo
with ease. He puts his hand on Leo's forehead and pats him gently. "He is trying to be funny! That
is a good sign."

"But seriously," Donnie says seriously, brandishing his tablet screen above Mikey's head and
pointing at it, "I cannot emphasize enough how important it is that you be Very Honest when I ask
you to scale your pain using this -" He cuts his eyes toward Raph, who grins. "Emoji Scale. Which
dramatization would you say you find the most relatable at the moment?"

"Okay, so defo… this guy," Leo says. He thinks he manages to lift his finger but that's all the juice
he's got. "On the… left."

"That would be the thumbs-up emoji, Leo," Raph says cautiously.

"Awww," Mikey gushes, "Is that one because you love us?"

"Hang on," Leo says around another small huff of maybe-laughter, "You… can't prove anything.
But also…" He moves his finger again. "Also this guy on the… on the far r-right. Like, for-real for
real."

"Oh, the sad-angry-crying emoji, fantastic," Donnie says with a bit more pep, tossing the tablet and
turning to Splinter, who's closest to the monitor, "Papa, would you do Leo a huge favor and smash
that morphine button, please? Like, right now, immediately."

Splinter fumbles with the little clicky thing and hits the button.

Leo feels a flush of warmth sweep up in arm.

And then he feels nothing.

 what to expect after symbiosizing with an organic alien spaceship
Chapter Summary

No. 7 THE WAY YOU SHAKE AND SHIVER

Shaking Hands | Seizures | Silent Panic Attack

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

Raph is passing by the kitchen when he hears something shatter on the floor, and a fervent, so-
quiet-he-almost-misses-it, "Fuck."

"Hey now!"

He doubles back and pokes his head into what was once the abandoned bakery of the abandoned
subway station. It's been revamped along with the rest of the lair. Raph knocked down half the
wall between the seating area and the kitchen and Donnie and Mikey built a bar there instead; it's
littered with dirty plates and crumbs, and there are some stools scattered underneath it. A couple of
neon signs and food-related memorabilia and family photos hang on the walls. Some empty pizza
boxes piled here and there. The community laptop sits forgotten on the table in the corner with the
bench seats.

Donnie is standing in the back by the sink, staring at the broken coffee mug at his feet.

This is the first time since Leo woke up that Raph has seen him outside of the medbay. Raph
comes around the bar, looking for the broom, admonishing lightly, "That profanity is a lil' strong
for a broken mug, don'cha think, Donnie?"

"I suppose," Donnie says, absently shaking his hand.

He grimaces and clenches it suddenly, and Raph wouldn't think anything of it if he didn't do it two
or three times in a row. And if he didn't exhale like he was holding his breath afterward. Raph
stops looking for the broom and looks at his brother a bit more closely. He's added some comfy
pants to his oversized-sweater look, but it doesn't seem to have helped relieve the dark bags under
his eyes and the glazed expression.

"Uhh, Donnie? You okay?"

"Yes," Donnie says, still clenching his fist and frowning at nothing.

"Are you sure? ….What are you doing?"

"Uuhh." There's a pause while Donnie decides on which lie to use. "Stimming."

"You don't stim like that," Raph says with growing alarm. He knows Donnie's stims. He rocks, and
he kicks his feet, and he punches his fists against his knees, and he dances. He doesn't do -
whatever this is. This weird hand-clenching thing.

"It's a - it's a new thing I'm trying."

"No it's not! Donnie! What's wrong?"

"N-nnNnothing!" Donnie says flippantly around the noticeable and uncharacteristic stutter - Raph
wouldn't even call it a stutter.

It sounded like the letter N tried to strangle him.

Raph has never wanted to punch a letter before.

Donnie throws his hand, rolls his wrist, and goes on as if nothing happened, "I'm fine, I'm just
experiencing some minor - very minor - symptoms of severe nerve damage. And maybe
withdrawal. But who can say!"

"Wha'd'you mean who can say?"

"Well, Raphael, I couldn't exactly Google 'what to expect after symbiosizing with an organic alien
spaceship', but I did Google 'symptoms of nerve damage', 'symptoms of brain damage', 'Post-
Traumatic Stress Disorder', 'neurological trauma', 'how to recover from neurological trauma',
'phantom sensations', 'hearing voices', 'schizophrenia', 'loss of feeling (physical not emotional)',
'coping with withdrawal', and 'm-mmMMm muscle spasming'," Donnie says, visibly fighting
through a muscle spasm.

Raph watches as his expression tightens and his hand curls into a trembling fist and his arm bends
and raises to his shoulder, and then, just as suddenly, everything relaxes. It only lasts about two
seconds and it's terrifying. Donnie goes on, flexing his hand, completely and totally unbothered,
"Among a plethora of others, only half of which were helpful. I fell down some rabbit holes.
Fortunately, as I said, my symptoms are relatively minor! Sensation has returned to 72% of my
shell and plastron, and the seizures aren't getting worse, per se - "

"Seizures?! You're havin' SEIZURES, DONNIE!?"

"Minor! Minor seizures, Raph, please pay attention -"

Raph hasn't been paying attention.

That's the problem.

Leo might be the King of Misdirection, but Donnie is the King of Avoidance. The genius dum-dum
broke his finger once when he was twelve and just splinted it and didn't say squat to anybody for
two days; he just kept his hand in his hoodie pocket all the time and they only found out when they
implemented the buddy-system on an outing and Mikey reached in to grab Donnie's hand. Raph
knows Donnie is like that. But there's so much other stuff that's been going on… Donnie shut down
there for a little bit.

But Raph thought he was fine now because he's talking and acting like Donnie again. Because he's
not all beat up like Leo, and he's not walking around with mummy hands like Mikey, and Raph
isn't sleeping too good lately because of nightmares but it's perfectly normal for Donnie to be up at
all hours of the day or night working on some project.

Raph really dropped the ball here.

He feels like he's having a heart attack.

"Donnie," Raph says, trying not to panic and to keep his voice calm. He has to take a deep breath
before he asks, "How long's this been goin' on?"
"Since I was savagely ripped from the Technodrone's central nervous system," Donnie admits, as if
the confession is more of an inconvenience than the experience itself. Raph doesn't even know
what he's talking about. Donnie flexes his hand again, turning it at looking at it like he isn't sure it's
his hand or something. "It gets worse when I haven't slept. And I… haven't slept in, oh, I don't
know - " He looks at the vintage Albearto clock hanging on the wall and ventures an educated
guess, "About seventeen hours or so."

Great! Okay. That's something Raph can take care of.

That's something he can do.

"Well, you're goin' ta bed then," he says, stepping forward to scoop Donnie up to ensure that he
does exactly that, "Right now, Donnie! No arguing!"

He stops abruptly when Donnie tenses, shrinking inward and turning so his back is to the counter,
snapping, "Don't - don't! I said I'm fine, Raph!"

"You are clearly not fine, Donnie!"

Raph takes another, slower step forward. Donnie slinks evasively along the counter.

"Raphael your concern has been noted and is appreciated, but I am managing my symptoms just
fine, thank you, now if you’ll excuse me -"

"Donnie, listen to me -"

"I have to check on Leo -"

"Leo's sleepin', like you should be!"

"I will attempt to nap later, you have my word, but I really need to-"

"Damnit, Donnie, you can't just focus on Leo! You gotta take care of yourself, too!"

"Oh, you're one to talk!" Donnie snaps.

Raph flinches.

Donnie's angry expression evaporates, his shoulder sagging.

"Sorry," he says immediately, then softer, "Sorry. Sorry - I - Raph, that was a complete and total
coincidence and I did not say it on purpose - I mean, I did, obviously, say it on purpose, but not -
not - it wasn't - purposefully hurtful in that way, specifically - "

"I know…"

Raph barely manages to say it before his throat closes up. Tears spring into his eyes and blur the
room and flood down his face, and he sobs without meaning to. Damnit. He's the big brother. He
can't be bawling right now because he feels bad. He's gotta pull it together. His brothers fought so
hard and they went through so much and he wasn't there for them when they needed him most - he
just made everything so much harder on them. He's gotta suck it up be there now - but another sob
heaves out of him, shortening his breath, and Raph lifts a trembling hand to cover his face.

"Raph," Donnie says, "Come on, you big dum-dum, sit down for me for a sec."

Donnie's hand is on his arm, an unexpected and gentle warmth.

 Raph slowly sits down on the floor, huffing and sobbing, and lets Donnie pull his hands away from
his face. Donnie doesn't give him a hug. He just works methodically to unwind the bandages
around Raph's head, covering his right eye - they're wet and gunky from his crying. It feels better
once they come off. Donnie folds them up and uses a drier portion to wipe Raph's injured eye,
assessing the damage because he's nervous and uncomfortable, he's bad at soothing others and he
knows it, and he doesn't know what else to do; but his touch is careful, his movements are slow
and thoughtful.

Another well of emotion brings more tears to Raph's eyes.

Donnie wordlessly swipes them away as they fall down his face.

He just holds Raph's head and lets him cry it out, and when Raph doesn't feel like he's collapsing
anymore, Donnie sighs in a defeated, woe-begone sort of way and says, "I suppose I could be
coerced into a siesta if you agree to one, as well."

"I like that plan," Raph sniffs.

He starts to get up, but Donnie doesn't let go of his face.

Instead, he covers up Raph's good eye and asks, "Can you see out of the right one?"

"Yes."

"In color?"

"Yeah," Raph laughs, "And it doesn't hurt or anything. Just kind itches."

"Well, the salinity will cause that," Donnie says, removing his hand from Raph's good eye and
fanning his face. "Along with general heaviness and some discoloration." He steps back, giving
Raph room to stand. "Give it a few minutes to clear and let me know if it's still itchy then."

"I'll do that," Raph promises, "C'mon."

He hooks his big hand into the side of Donnie's sweater so he doesn't get any ideas about sneaking
off and pulls him toward the door. Donnie leans his weight back to protest on principal, but allows
himself to be dragged along.

They need to talk some stuff out, but it can wait.

Chapter End Notes

Thank you guys so much for reading, and for leaving such wonderful comments!!

I just wanna hug Big Raphie

 one in a million
Chapter Summary

No. 8 EVERYTHING HURTS AND I'M DYING

Stomach Pain | Head Trauma | Back from the Dead

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

Casey enters the lab cautiously, unfamiliar with the layout.

The main desk is in the center, but Donnie isn't there. He's easy enough to find - Casey follows the
sound of Daft Punk's Discovery album into the back of the lab, where Donnie is bent over a smaller
desk in the corner. The bluetooth speaker pulsates with the beat, the lights rimming it a steady
violet; Donnie's knee does the same, but his hands are steady as he adjusts the focus of the
microscope he's peering into. Casey makes plenty of noise walking up so he doesn't startle Donnie
and makes sure to move out of his blind spot so his approach is visible. He hates to interrupt, but
clears his throat once he reaches the desk.

"Uhhh. Donatello? Can I… ask you a question?"

"Well since you already show-horned your way into my lab with one I suppose it would be rude to
not acquiesce to another," Donnie says, without looking up from the microscope monopolizing his
attention. He motions to the rolling stool beside his desk. "Have a seat, but don't - and I mean Do
Not - touch anything."

Casey shuffles over and perches on the stool, pushing it backwards with his feet until he's close
enough to the desk to lean against it. The thin circular disk under the microscope glows a vivid,
electric blue. Donnie occasionally turns the knob on the side with one hand, adjusting the focus,
and takes notes with the other hand using a stylus on his tablet.

"What are you looking at?" Casey asks.

"More of that beautiful herbicide that April five-finger-discounted from her college's science
facility," Donnie says, "I wanted to examine the components so that I can mass produce and
weaponize it. Was that your initial question or was it something else? Because I am working…"

"No, it was… something else. Um." Casey takes a deep breath and claps his hands together,
wedging them between his knees. "What's a.. bifurcated time branch…?"

"A bifurcated time branch?"

"Yeah," Casey says, "You mentioned we were in one? Before…"

"Ah, yes of course, I remember." Donnie sits back from the microscope and finally looks at him -
or squints at him. A testament to how long he's been peering into the microscope, probably. Donnie
rubs his eyes with one hand, gestures with the other. "Bifurcation is the point or area at which
something divides into two branches or parts, hence the Latin prefix bi. I don't know if you're a
visual learner, but perhaps that would be more communicative. For example -" He swipes at a
panel on the desk that Casey didn't even see and a purple holo screen appears in front of him.
Donnie uses his stylus to draw a wide line up the center of the screen. "If the 'main timeline', which
for the purpose of this presentation will be yours, is the trunk of the tree, then the secondary
timeline (ours) would be here-ish."

Donnie touches a place on the main line, draws a branch directly out from it, and sweeps it straight
up. There's no overlap at all. He splays his hand and a full tree of diverging timelines reach up
across the screen and adds, "Any Event, major or even minor, creates more and more of these
branches - or timelines. At least, that's the hypothesis."

Casey's heart sinks slowly in his chest, settling like a stone at the bottom of a pond.

"So… none of this actually changed the future that I came from."

It isn't a question.

Casey knows it's the truth - he just hadn't let himself really feel it before now. He isn't sure what he
thought would happen if he did manage to stop the Krang. He was so focused on doing it. For
Master Leonardo, for everyone else. Maybe a small part of him thought that Master Michelangelo
would bring him back to a future that wasn't all chaos and death and despair. But Michelangelo is
gone. Master Leonardo is gone. Commander O'Neil is gone. Everyone Casey ever knew and loved
is still gone, they aren't going to magically come back, and he feels the weight of that now more
than ever, two weeks into a tenuous peace.

He can't help the despair that burgeons up as he looks at all those timelines sprawling into infinity,
"And there are so many more where the Krang still won…."

Donnie says, "Yeah, that's probably true," and turns right back to the microscope.

It sounds callous and indifferent, but Casey knows better.

He grew up in Master Donatello's lab.

It was his nursery, his home.

He fell asleep countless nights to the eclectic beat of synthwave music pumping from old speakers.
He cut his teeth on coding and hardware. He learned how to use wire splicers and welding tools
before his hands were even big enough to hold them properly. Before he was old enough to fight,
he helped carry supplies, and ran emergency simulations, and kept an eye on the cameras, and
cooked, and cleaned, and delivered first-aid to people coming in and out. He sat on a stool just like
this one and watched Donatello draw schematics for and build from scraps an arm for Master
Leonardo after his was torn off during the fight that lost them Raphael and Casey's mother.

He sat on a stool just like this and got fitted with his gauntlet before his first mission.

He was twelve, and he still remembers Donatello's voice ineffectually detailing every aspect of
how the gauntlet worked, over and over again, until Casey could repeat it verbatim. He still
remembers Leonardo's teasing remark when Donatello put on his own battle gear to go with them,
even though he wasn't supposed to:

"Oh, is the big softie coming out of retirement?"

"I'll show you soft. He's a novice! How else will I make sure my tech comes back in one piece?"

"Suuure." Master Leonardo had caught Casey's eye and winked, and Casey had felt some of his
 anxiety slipping away under a smile as his hair was ruffled. "Your precious tech."

Casey looks at the holoscreen for a long time.

"Of course, I'm certain there are others where they didn't win," Donnie says without looking up,
"The likelihood of this timeline being a literal one-in-a-million victory sweep is mathematically
slim."

Casey takes some comfort in that.

Chapter End Notes

Y’all ever cry abt Casey Jones????? Yeah me either

 paper lanterns
Chapter Summary

No. 9 THE VERY NOISY NIGHT

Sleeping in Shifts | Tossing and Turning | Caught in a Storm

"Guys, the lair's flooding again!"

Leo's exasperated voice rings in the open space of the atrium, over the roar of rushing water. Cool
thing about living in New York's sewer system: the Ambiance. Not-so-cool thing: it floods
sometimes. Mostly during hurricane season and particularly bad-ass storms, but not really often
enough to be like, a concern or anything. It's just kind of annoying.

The grey water swirls around Leo's ankles.

"Guys?" he calls again after receiving no answer. He scans the decks overhead, the openings of
tunnels leading off to other rooms, the skate ramps and walls painted in years-old graffiti. He cups
his hands around his mouth. "Donnie! One of your gate thingies busted or something, there's water
everywhere!"

He waits again.

The water is already up to his knees now. It's weird that it's getting higher and he can't even see
where it's flooding in from. Was it always so dark in here?

"Raph, did you break something?"

The water creeps over Leo's thighs.

"Mikey?"

It surges up to his chest.

"….Dad!"

Leo doesn't know if the water is rising or if he's sinking. Maybe he's sinking. It feels like he's
sinking. He can't feel the floor under his feet. Is that weird? That's weird right? He can't feel the
floor - and he can't feel the water either. He's completely submerged and he doesn't feel anything.
There's a deafening rushing, bubbling roar in his ears that makes him wince and close his eyes -
and then there's silence.

He's floating, and there's debris drifting all around him in the dark gray water.

He can breathe but his body aches.

It's cold.

The vague shapes surrounding him slowly come together, forming ghostly, titanous silhouettes.
Their elongated arms with clawed hands reach for him, their mouths open in their blank, dark faces
-

Leo jolts awake.

He's up out of bed and moving forward before he even really processes it . He's broken out in a
cold sweat and shivering, pacing mindlessly along the train car, touching the poles, touching his
stuff, just to feel something, to ground himself. The colors are comforting. The blue sakura paper
lanterns Dad gave him for his and Donnie’s shared birthday. The string of star lights him and
Donnie have passed back and forth since they were kids. His Jupiter Jim posters.

Movement outside one of the windows draws Leo's eye. He's struck by how dark it is beyond
them.

A train horn blares.

A hundred yellow eyes open up in the darkness and Leo is trembling and the floor jerks under his
feet and -

Leo screams.

"Leo! Leo! I'm right here, what's wrong??"

That's Mikey's voice - and it's Mikey's weight splayed across him, that Leo belated becomes aware
of around the pain. Leo's trying to get up and Mikey is pinning him down. Everything hurts. Leo
can't even wrap his head around it. He knows he’s awake this time because he can feel everything.
His head is pounding, and all he can think about is the train car - the blaring horn - the twin lights
bearing down - the earth rumbling under the impact - his heart lodging in his throat -

Leo forces his voice out, "Where's - Donnie?"

"Donnie?" Mikey's voice is shaking, "Him and Raph are takin' a nap, I think -"

"Is he - is he okay?"

"What? Y-yeah, he's fine -"

"Are y- you okay?"

"Me, yeah. I'm good! I'm freakin' out a little. I think you had a bad dream."

"A dream…." Leo mumbles stupidly.

Mikey cups his forehead gently, and Leo realizes how bad he's trembling. He feels exhausted. He
hurts. But so much tension bleeds away at Mikey's touch, it's dizzying.

"A bad… memory maybe," Mikey says quietly.

Leo squeezes his eye closed against the burning tears, trying to breathe through the awful way his
chest constricts. A very bad memory. He's so stupid - he almost got all of his brothers killed
because he made stupid choices and then just kept making more. He doesn't want to have a
breakdown about it in front of his little brother, but once he starts crying he can't stop. He doesn't
want to put all that on Angelo.

He already acts like the family therapist.

"Everybody's okay, Leo. We're all at home and we're all safe. Are you hurtin'...?"
Leo nods because he can't do anything else.

"I - I can push the button and give you some morphine! Hang on."

One of his hands leaves, reaching for the clicker thing hanging off the side of the bed. Leo's heart
squeezes. He yanks his own arm up despite the howling protests from the entire limb and grabs
Mikey, choking out, "N-no - don't - I don't - want it - "

Mikey looks uncertain. "It'll make you stop hurtin', Leo."

"Please, Mikey - just - gimme a sec -"

"Okay…" Mikey says in a small, sad voice.

He hangs the morphine button back up. He's sitting on the edge of the bed beside Leo's hip, on his
'good side' - the one without the IV and the majority of the bruising and the broken leg propped on
a pillow. There's a sketchbook and some markers thrown across Leo's lap, and Leo's side is warm,
so Mikey's been there for a minute. Mikey casts around the medbay, chewing his bottom lip. One
of his hands rests on Leo's arm, the other on his chest.

"You feel kinda cold," he says after a minute, his hands moving to different places, feeling Leo's
skin, his plastron, his face, "You want me to get the heatlap and another blanket?"

Leo thinks about it for a minute.

He is cold and the heat lamp would be great, honestly. Maybe then he'd stop shivering. Maybe
some warmth would get his mind right. But he doesn't want to be left alone…. He doesn't want to
sound like a baby….

"Leo?" Mikey leans over him. He looks worried, but he voice is steady now. "Are you scared?"

"Y-yeah…"

It bursts out before Leo can stop it.

Mikey nods in a determined sort of way that is instantly familiar and comforting.

"Okay," he says, "I know just what to do!"

He picks up his markers and sketchbook (he drops the markers a couple of times, tongue between
his teeth, concentration intense as he picks them back up) and shoves everything onto a little table
that's near the bedside. He leans forward and grabs a thicker blanket that was apparently within
easy reach and he unfolds it over the top of the blanket that's already covering Leo's legs. He
doesn't get up from Leo's side, and once the blanket is spread out, Mikey pulls it up over his
shoulders and drapes himself, blanket and all, across Leo's chest.

He carefully picks Leo's arm up and puts it across his lap, loosely cradling his elbow.

Every part of Leo that can hurt does hurt. If the addition of Mikey's slight weight makes it worse,
he doesn't notice - and if it did, he wouldn't care. He stops shaking so badly almost right away, the
icy feeling in his chest thawing.

"It's okay, Leo," Mikey murmurs, "You're okay."

Leo doesn’t feel okay, but he feels better.

 my condolences
Chapter Notes

Me getting distracted by *counts them* …..four other WIPS? It's more likely than u
think! Anyway, this one doesn't fit a specific prompt, but I felt like it was necessary to
have a sort of reprieve! I'm just a silly lil gal okay. I gotta write something stupid to
offset the angst, so: Casey meets some new friends! Otherwise known as, I woke up at
3:45 am to furiously jot down the dialogue for Leo roping Casey into helping him try
to woo Hueso into giving him free pizza because look me in the face and tell me he
wouldn't do that i dare u sdfkjls

I am really trying not to think too hard about any sort of ""plot"" here.

Enjoy!

Leo is awake and lucid today. It's been three days since he initially woke up, and this is the first
time since then that he's managed to stay alert any length of time and really interact with anyone;
his brothers are soaking it up. Mikey is perched on the edge of the bed, keeping the checkerboard
stable between his and Leo's laps. Raph is on Leo's other side, mediating their playful arguing.
Donnie is curled up in the gaming chair he rolled in from his lab, pretending to ignore his brothers'
banter but smiling at his phone.

Casey only popped into the medbay to check on them, not wanting to interrupt.

It's just that as soon as he steps in, he hears raised voices behind him, descending the broad
staircase, and knows Something is Happening. He turns to instinctively block the door. Every
looks up. And it wasn't Casey's intention, not by a longshot, but as the doors slide open again they
can all hear Splinter's angry voice loud a clear: "I text! 'Boys in danger! 911!' I called! Straight to
voicemail every time! 'Boys very hurt, come home ASAP!' No response! Yet here you are a week
later just strolling right in like it is no big deal!"

An imperious and drawling voice answers,

"There was a very strictly-enforced No Cellular Devices policy at the Tristate Cafeteria Persons
Annual Convention, of which I made you aware before my departure. If it were a true emergency, I
could have been easily reach via the hotel service desk -"

"IT WAS ALL OVER THE NEWS!!! Alien Invasion!! Evil Creatures Attack New York; City In
Shambles!!! What, did you need to see a headline that specified: Idiot Alchemist can turn people
into rats whenever he feels like it, but can't check on his family during a global crises?? We almost
lost Leonardo forever and you were not here!!"

Casey's chest tightens.

He turns and scans the room and sees at once that he is not the only one affected by Splinter's
furious vocalization of The Thing No One Wants To Talk About. Donnie's eyes immediately glass
over and lose focus. Mikey is chewing his lip, carefully moving the checkerboard to the bedside
table and glancing at Leo - who is visibly pale and looks like he might be sick, who grips the
blanket in his lap so tight his hands shake.

Raph recovers first.

He leaps to his feet and nimbly dodges past Casey and out the door, barking, "Dad!"

"What, red?" Splinter barks back.

"Leo's awake and he can hear you," Raph says, "We can all hear you!"

There's a tense pause before Splinter answers, "I am sorry, Raphael. I should not have spoken out
of anger." It is, however, followed immediately by a sharp snapping sound and yelp of pain from
that deeper voice. "You may see my sons, IF they will have you!! But do not overstay your
welcome!! They need to rest!!"

Casey doesn't like the tension in the room.

He doesn't like the way Leo's voice sounds when he says, "Donnie? You okay?" Or the way
Donnie doesn't answer him; he just gets up from the chair and slinks past the bed toward the other
exit at the back of the train car. Leo signs something haltingly when Donnie is facing him and
Donnie signs something back. Casey thinks it's text me and I'll try, but the exchange is too quick to
be certain. Mikey looks between them nervously, as if he isn't sure whether to follow Donnie out or
stay with Leo.

He doesn't have to make up his mind about it - Raph spots Donnie exiting the car just as he comes
into it with the stranger in tow, and he goes right back out after him. That leaves the stranger
behind, looming in the doorway, observing the three of them with his arms folded, in silence.
Casey continues blocking the path to the hospital bed, regretting his negligence - he normally
carries a weapon everywhere…

"Hey, Draxum," Mikey says, offering a tentative smile.

Leo offers up a broader one.

"Oh look, Barry's back!" He drops the cheerful facade at once. "Get out of my room."

"The blue one is feeling spicy despite his numerous… and extensive… injuries," Draxum notes
with what could easily be disdain or concern, "What happened? He's usually the most proficient in
combat!"

Leo laughs, "Nice compliment! Get out of my room."

"Hang on," Casey says. He doesn't want to undercut Leo's authority on who he wants in a space he
cannot physically leave himself, but - "You're Barry Draxum? The Barry Draxum??"

"Baron Draxum."

"Oh wow!" Casey can't help himself. Any reservation he has evaporates. He darts forward,
grabbing the yokai's hand and shaking it firmly. "It's an honor to actually meet you, sir! You
trained Master Michelangelo and Master Donatello in mystic and alchemic -"

Draxum tears his hand away, wiping it on his kimono.

"Who is this greasy human spawn and why is he attempting to flatter me?"

"That's Casey," Leo says, "Don't traumatize him. And get out of my room! Nobody who's thrown
me off of a roof is allowed to be in here!"

"It's all a really long story," Mikey says. He jumps up and grabs Barry by the arm and pulls him
right back out the door, "C'mon, I'll explain! Besides, there's some stuff I wanna ask you about! I
just now thought - maybe you can help! We'll finish out game later, Leo!"

"Coward, you're just afraid of losing!" Leo says quickly, sitting forward slightly like that'll help his
voice chase Mikey out the door.

Mikey sticks his tongue out over his shoulder.

Then the doors hiss closed again, abruptly leaving Leo and Casey alone. It feels like the color
seeps out of the room. Everything's a little less vibrant. Leo sighs softly, sinking back into the
pillows, pawing at the blanket, plucking at the medical tape on his arm around the IV instead of
plucking at the IV directly. Now that his brothers are not in his immediate vicinity, Leo looks
exhausted, and Casey realizes he was acting better than he actually feels because he didn't want his
brother's to worry. He's not as guarded around Casey.

That tracks. Master Leonardo was a fortress - Leo is still putting up the bricks.

"You can sleep for a while if you want, Leo," Casey says, "I don't mind sitting with you til one of
your brothers comes back."

"Y'sure?" Leo asks; his eyes are already closed, but he's smiling. "I don't wanna be a boring host."

"I don't mind," Casey says again.

He hooks his foot into the rung of the rolling stool and slides it over to the bed. It's kind of a weird
relief, honestly, when Leo takes him up on the offer. Master Leonardo wouldn't have. He would
have reassured Casey that he was fine and would have made Casey go lay down somewhere so that
Casey could rest.

Casey spent his whole life in Master Leonardo's shadow, and yet he only ever caught the most
fleeting glimpses of his walls coming down. That was by design. Casey was a kid. He was their
kid. He was their future. He always knew that. He was always the first one evacuated to a new
location when their hideouts were discovered, even when he begged to stay and help. He was
always the first one thrown under cover when he was finally allowed out on missions. He was the
first one put on shuttles, the first one buckled in, the first one through the portal, the first one that
got aid, the first one anyone ever asked about after things got shaken up.

He was Mission Priority Number One.

Always.

It was hard for Casey to grapple with sometimes, being the future that everyone was fighting for.
He didn't want to have full rations while everyone else got half, or half rations when everyone else
went hungry. He hated being the one everyone else protected. But it's surprisingly hard grappling
with…. not… being that… anymore.

"S'matter, Case?"

Leo's groggy voice pulls Casey from his thoughts. His eyes aren't open, but he makes a small,
expectant gesture with his hand.

"Everything." Casey shrugs. "And…nothing?"

Leo chuckles a little, does some jazz hands. "Yaay trauma~"

Leo's phone buzzes on the table.

Leo cracks open his eyes and lifts his head to look at it, frowns really hard like he's thinking about
reaching for it, and then sighs, sinking back into the pillow and closing his eyes again, instead.
Everyone usually makes sure that everything he needs is within easy reach, including a tablet,
snacks, and water. But Mikey left in such a hurry, he skewed the table.

Casey gets up and hands the phone to Leo, who looks a little surprised, but smiles.

"Thanks!" He unlocks the phone, swipes into the messenger app - maybe on muscle-memory,
because then he just squints at it, bringing the phone closer to his face. He blinks hard a couple of
times, moving the phone away and then closer again like he's trying to bring the small font into
focus. He sighs again and holds the phone out to Casey. "Sorry. I can't… read right now? Is it from
Donnie?"

Casey takes the phone back, looking at the text.

"No, it's not Donnie."

"Figured," Leo sighs, "What's it say?"

"It says… 'The restaurant is up and running again. Hope you are alive - Hueso.'"

"Oooh, Hueso!" Leo seems to perk up a bit at hearing this, his expression shifting into a broad,
eager smile. "Can you text back for me and say, 'Free pizza for pepino? Eye emoji.'?"

Casey does it, fumbling over the keys with little familiarity, and then waits for a reply.

"He said, 'Nice try, but no. This is a business not a charity.'"

"Say, 'Please (Bone) Daddy.' Capital B, capital D, and put bone in parenthesis. And send that one
and then do the pleading face emoji, and the two hand emojis doing this." Leo taps his forefingers
together in front of his chest and makes the pleading face.

Casey arches an eyebrow, but sends the texts.

"…..He said, 'I am pressing charges.'"

Leo laughs.

"Okay say - um - say, 'S-R-Y -'"

"Sorry?"

"Yes but no, S-R-Y." Casey dutifully types the shorthand, nodding along while Leo dictates,
"Aaand a laughing emoji - two laughing emojis! And then F-R space T-H-O 'I deserve free pizza
for saving the world again, example A' and send that, and then take a photo of me. And make sure
you get my horribly-mangled side."

Leo genuinely looks like he's having the time of his life. Grinning, sitting forward, eyes alert and
focused in a way they haven't been in weeks. Casey can't say no, even to the odd request. He snaps
a photo and sends it. He's looking at the screen, waiting for the little bubble to pop up at the
bottom that heralds a reply - a call comes through, instead. BONE DADDY flashes across the
screen along with a skeleton emoji and three black hearts.
Casey panics and thrusts the phone toward Leo.

"He's calling -!"

Leo makes a grabbing gesture before he swipes the phone. Instead of answering with hello or some
other customary greeting, he says, "Y'know, I think I'm really vibing with the garlic knots actually,
can we do that instead of pizza? I don't wanna share with my brothers."

A harsh and scolding, heavily-accented voice answers him, "Pepino! What sort of foolishness have
you landed yourself in now?? Which hospital - ?"

"Nononono, no hospital - I'm at home -"

"¡Mentiras! I can see the hospital bed and the monitor in this photo -"

"We have a hospital bed at home, it's a long story - I promise I'm at home, now listen -"

"I knew when there was trouble in the city that you would be involved somehow, but I did not think
you had been hospitalized!"

"At home! On bedrest! I want -"

"Of all the stupid, reckless -

" - garlic knots, Hueso!"

"If this is some sort of prank, Leo -"

"It's no prank!" Leo laughs, "I swear! Here." He blinks hard at the screen for a second and then
pokes it. "Accept my video chat, old man…! There we go." He grins really big, but holding the
phone up after all the excitement proves to be too much of a task, so Leo just lets it rest in his lap,
propped in both his hands. "See? Not a prank."

"Or a very elaborate prank," Hueso grumbles reluctantly, "Querido dio, you look worse than in the
photo. Are your brothers alright?"

"They're okay. They're not laid in a hospital bed with several broken bones and bruises," Leo says
in a joking tone. For all that he's smiling and sitting upright, it's taken a sudden, visible toll on him.
Casey can see it in the way his eyes are heavy and hear it in the slow tone he works hard to keep
upbeat. "So, about those garlic knots…?"

Heuso lets out a long sigh; "I will hand-deliver one order of garlic knots."

Leo closes his eyes and closes one hand into a fist. "Nice!"

"But do not grow accustomed to such spoils, pepino! I do not want to encourage whatever behavior
landed your in such a state."

"Who is this guy anyway?" Casey asks.

Leo looks like he feels better after a catnap. It's been over an hour since his phone call with Hueso
and Donnie just text to let him know: 1. That he was offended Leo was attempting to sneak food
into the lair without intending to share his spoils. 2. Hueso had accidentally triggered one of the
automated defense systems and was unharmed but Very pissed off about having to dodge a laser.
And 3. Hueso was currently on his way to the medbay with Leo's (unfortunately unscathed) garlic
knots in tow.

Leo is all smiles anyway, unrepentant.

"Who, Señor Hueso? He's the owner of our favorite yōkai restaurant! And also half of THE Most
Attractive Man on the planet."

"Okay," Casey says uncertainly, amused in spite of himself.

He is not prepared for an actual skeleton to show up. Like, literally, it is a man made entirely (and
exclusively?) of bones, though he is certainly very well-dressed. He even takes off his hat as he
enters the train car and deposits a piping-hot cardboard box on Leo's bedside table. Casey watches
from the rolling stool at the foot of the hospital bed, utterly bewildered.

"Hey, Bone Daddy," Leo says with a cheeky smile.

"I have asked you not to call me by that inappropriate nickname," Hueso says wearily with no real
conviction.

He observes Leo's various bruises and bandages, the bulky outline of the cast on his broken leg
beneath the blanket, with his hands on his hips. He shakes his head. He notices Leo blatantly and
exaggeratedly reaching for the box on the bedside table, which is just out of reach, and he slides it
further away.

"Have you no sense of self-preservation whatsoever?"

"I have a very keen sense of I have not eaten real food in uuhh I don't remember how long," Leo
answers.

Hueso looks at the ceiling briefly, as if asking for strength or patience (or both) and then hands
Leo the box, warning, "It is still very hot!"

Leo, without heeding the warning at all, opens the box with a flourish. Steam billows out, along
with a mesmerizing savory smell. Leo puts his whole face into the box and breathes it in, and
makes a borderline-inappropriate sound.

Hueso shakes his head again.

He looks at Casey.

"Who is this gentleman?" Hueso asks, "We have not been introduced."

"That's Casey Jones," Leo says, attempting to pinch off a bite from the contents of the box and
whipping his hand back (and wincing at the abrupt motion). He blows on his fingers. "He's from
the future. He's my apprentice!"

"You are his apprentice?" Hueso asks Casey, pointing his thumb at Leo.

"Yes sir," Casey says with a shrug and a smile, "Sort of."

"My condolences," Hueso says bluntly.

"Hey!" Leo says, looking up from his box. He gestures at himself. "No sympathy for the
grievously-injured turtle?"
"You are feeling well enough to chatterbox and stuff your face," Hueso notes.

"Those are my defining features!"

He's still fanning the garlic knots, trying to cool them off faster.

"What does it say about us that we find this endearing?" Hueso asks.

It's hypothetical, said with another exasperated shake of the head, but Leo is clearly not expecting
to hear it and gets quiet and still for a moment. He looks… embarrassed, Casey guesses. Then he
stuffs a garlic knot into his mouth and makes a scene of fighting through the heat it still holds,
blowing around the food in his mouth, fanning his face. Hueso goes on, "I suppose in light of this
whole… situation -" He gestures at all of Leo. " - I will reinstate you and your brothers' tab at the
restaurant - temporarily - with the understanding that you will pay it back when you have
sufficiently recovered."

"Hhm. Define sufficiently," Leo says, as if he's looking for a loophole.

"No," Hueso says.

Leo laughs, "Fair enough."

Donnie must have ratted them out, because Mikey comes barreling into the medbay, demanding,
"LEO, Why do I smell garlic knots?1?"

Casey had been invited to share in Leo's spoils - he is still floored that food is supposed to taste
good - and at the youngest turtle brother's appearance, he and Leo both at the same exact time,
without any sort fo verbal agreement or eye contact, shove the remaining garlic-coated bread into
their mouths. Mikey's indignation is perhaps closer to outrage. And too much drama for Hueso. He
departs, and Mikey lunges for the empty box Leo tosses into the air, and Casey, dodging them,
turns to his sort-of-but-not-really-sensei.

"That's half of THE Most Attractive Man in the world?" Casey asks incredulously.

Leo throws his hands.

"NOBODY believes me!!"

 I hate you for that
Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

"I'm booooooooorrrrrrrrrrrrred."

"I can and will sedate you if your belly-aching persists."

"C'mon, Donnie, you gotta lemme live my life."

"Wish fulfillment at its finest: You will be pleased to know that you are currently alive and living.
Congratulations."

"I can't stay in this bed forever…!"

"Au contraire mon frère."

"Okay, Donnie, not sure if you've noticed - totally fine if you haven't, I get it - but I've got a little
bit… a little bit of maybe some kinda brain damage goin' on right now - do not laugh, this is very
serious -“ Donnie had no intention of laughing. “- can you speak normal person words at me for
like, for just like, for a second please? Can you just, I dunno, talk to me?”

“What we are doing right now is considered talking.”

“Okay but I’m - I’m really…. super tired of getting one-tone sentences from the Auto - Automated
Response System. "

"Your slurred speech and poorer than average sentence structure is not lending you the favor that
you think it is."

Leo lets out a defeated sigh - one that gets snagged in his chest before it gets out and draws
Donnie's attention away from the tablet immediately, even if it is just a quick glance. Leo's face
pinches into a grimace, his hand lifting to rub his forehead as his eyes close. Even that small
movement, just lifting his hand for a few seconds, is too much of a task. It drops back into his lap
almost right away.

Donnie reaches for the morphine button.

"If you hit that again, Donnie, I swear -" Leo says, tone finding some gravitas, "I'm fine, I
promised I would say something if the pain was bad - god, can you guys please trust me? I'm
sorry…."

The unexpected waterworks are not entirely unexpected. Leo cranks them on when it serves him to
do so, particularly when he is issuing an apology and wants as much sympathy for his performance
as possible - but that's not the case this time and Donnie knows that. He may be ill-versed at
clocking tonal nuances and facial expressions, but he can clock his twin with relative ease. He
knows an earnest emotion when Leo deigns to display one, and vice versa. He knows this is the
morphine causing mood swings, and the various pain and trauma causing emotional dysregulation,
which Leo is already prone to via his Attention Deficit Disorder.

That being said, there is no conceivable reason why Donnie starts crying.
That pressure forms in his throat and his hands tighten painfully around the tablet and heat burns
his eyes and Leo notices. Of course he does. He is still irritatingly perceptive. Donnie looks away
as soon as Leo looks at him. He wants to wipe the tears off his face, but doesn’t want to draw
attention to them, and he can’t let go of the tablet, anyway.

He tries to control his breathing, instead, because it’s been knocked out of rhythm by his
quickening pulse.

“Donnie,” Leo says quietly, “C’mere.”

“I’m comfortable where I am.”

“Damnit, Donnie, please. You don’t have t’come over here but talk to me.”

“I’ve been talking.”

“About what your deal is, Donnie,” Leo says; anger gives him his volume back, “You think I
don’t know what you’re doing? We’re the same person. You can lie to Mikey and avoid Raph, but
you can’t fool me. You won’t stay in the room with me unless the others are here or they’re busy
and you feel like you have to stay like right now. You won’t look at me, but every time I wake up
you’re parked in that stupid chair thousand-yard-staring at me! You won’t talk to me! You haven’t
said my name at all this whole time, plus you keep shuddering and making - that!”

Leo points at him, full of righteous vindication.

Donnie hadn’t realized the spasms were so obvious because they’ve been relatively (and
comparatively) minor today, but to his earlier point: Leo’s powers of observation are not to be
underestimated, no matter his physical or emotional state. Donnie can’t even do anything to hide it.
He sits up and moves to put the tablet on the counter and his arm jerks involuntarily and makes the
movement clumsy.

“That face,” Leo asserts, “That’s your I’m In Pain And Not Gonna Say Anything Face! What’s
wrong with your arm, Donnie?”

“Nothing is wrong with my arm, Leo.”

He really can’t fool his twin. Whether he intends for it to or not, his statement implies that
something else is wrong and, head trauma or no head trauma, Leo is not, by any means, in spite of
his own best efforts to appear otherwise, stupid.

“Is this about the ship?” he asks.

Don’t think about the ship.

“I’m fine, Leo.”

Don’t think about the ship.

“I didn’t ask if you were fine, Donnie -“ Don’t think about the ship. “- I asked if this is about what
happened on the ship -” DON’T THINK ABOUT THE SHIP. “- Mikey said -“

“I don’t want to talk about it, Nardo!” Donnie shouts. He’s on his feet, because if he doesn’t move
he’s going to think about it and if he thinks about it - he can’t think about it - he can’t - “I don’t
want to talk about it! I don’t want to talk about it!! I said I’m fine! I don’t want to talk about it!!”
 “Donnie -“

“You - you don’t - fucking LISTEN TO ANYONE!”

Leo flinches.

Donnie doesn’t care.

“Even after an entire scenario where not listening to anyone brought about the literal apocalypse,
even after saying you're done thinking you have all the answers, even after apologizing!!!! You
turn around at the eleventh hour and just do the exact same thing you always do, Leo!! You made a
stupid, reckless decision just to get what you thought were the best most-immediate results, and it
didn’t matter how anyone else felt about it!! It didn’t matter that we had to live with the
consequences!! You were GONE.”

Donnie’s voice breaks.

He’s crying harder than he ever has in his life and he’s gasping for air and he’s shaking so badly
all he can do is squeeze his hands into fists and let his voice rattle out of him, “You were g-gone
and I -“ Donnie squeezes his eyes closed, gulps in a breath. The room tips dangerously.
“Everything isn’t just magically better because you were only gone for ten minutes! You made that
choice and that broke something inside of all of us, and I hate you for that!”

It is, arguably, not Donnie’s best moment.

It’s either hit Leo or hit something else. Donnie hits the bedside table and sends it, along with its
contents, sprawling to the floor. Leo flinches again at the noise; his hands are held up, but he
doesn’t know what to do with them. Donnie doesn’t look at his face.

He turns away so he doesn’t have to.

“Donnie -“

Leo reaches for him. His fingers graze Donnie’s skin, and Donnie whips his arm away.

“Donnie - Donnie. Donnie!”

Donnie staggers out of the medbay. He doesn’t look back, even when he hears Leo swear, the
sound of medical tape peeling up, the clack of the IV hitting the floor, the bed creaking as Leo
moves - the edge of Donnie’s vision is black and his head is pounding and he can’t breathe and it
feels like something is crawling in his shell and he can’t take it any more.

Chapter End Notes

The escalated quickly.png

Warring between Write for the Prompts and Do whatever the fuck I want now that
I’ve set my foundation lmao Thank you THANK YOU guys for reading and for so
many funny, amazing comments! I really appreciate knowing what made y’all laugh
(or cry lmao) The response for these has been a lil overwhelming but I’m so glad y’all
are enjoying them!
 in a heartbeat
Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

Splinter is wracking his brain trying to remember how to make that special hot chocolate the boys
like to drink during the colder months. Leonardo hasn't been able to stay warm, and the others are
still nursing physical and emotional injuries of their own - they deserve a little comfort. But what
does it say about him as a father that he can remember all the names of the stuntmen from his Lou
Jitsu days, but not the secret ingredient to his sons' favorite winter-time beverage?

Splinter tries not to dwell on it.

Surely April knows and he can save face.

Now he's trying to remember whether or not he carried his phone into the kitchen….

That is when Michelangelo comes sprinting in, frantic and upset, speaking almost to quickly for
Splinter to make sense of his words, "DAD, Leo fell outta bed I think on purpose an he pulled out
his IV again an he won't let Casey put it back an I don't think he's hurt too bad but he's really really
upset, he's seriously bawlin' an we can't find Donnie ANYWHERE an he's not answerin’ 'is phone
an I think they were fightin' an I'm scared an I dunno what to do an ya gotta come fix it!!!" He
grabs Splinter up and, in one dizzying, wavering motion, hoists the rat over his head and sprints
right back out the door.

"Orange! Put me down!"

Splinter is an old man and his overeager son's attempt to carry him is jostling his poor arthritic
joints - also, he can feel Michelangelo's arms trembling with the effort. He does not want to be
dropped, and he does not want Michelangelo to hurt himself in the process.

Michelangelo makes a defeated sound.

He slows to a jog and puts Splinter down, but flaps his arms impatiently and continues to hurry him
along. Splinter does not need to be encouraged. His eyesight may be going, but his hearing is as
sharp as ever. He can hear Leonardo sobbing long before they reach the medbay, and the sound
twists at Splinter's heart. Leonardo has not cried like that, loudly and uncontrollably, since he was a
very small child - and he only ever did it in the first place if there was something wrong with
Donatello.

Raphael is trying to soothe him, and visibly shaken, when Splinter and Michelangelo burst in
through the sliding doors, "…and - look, Leo! Pops is here! Okay? So - so he'll take care a ya and -
and I'll go check on Donnie -"

"No," Leonardo moans, " I gotta check on Donnie, Raph…"

"No, you gotta take it easy and stay in bed! I'll check on Donnie."

Clearly, there was some sort of altercation.

The bedside table has been knocked over. A water bottle has spilled, it’s contents glistening on the
smooth concrete floor and curling the crumpled edges of some comic books. The tablet screen is
cracked, and several other things are scattered across the floor, having been trampled or kicked
aside in the process of moving Leonardo back into bed. Leonardo is sitting up and holding onto his
own arm, which is bleeding surprisingly heavily; his whole body shakes under the weight of his
sobs and tears pour down his face.

Future Boy is standing on the other side of the bed, trying to wrap Leonardo's arm, but Leonardo
keeps jerking away from him. He even jerks away from Raphael when Raphael reaches out to
gently take his arm, instead.

"He h-hates me," Leonardo sobs.

Raphael pulls his hand back in surprise; "What? Who?"

"Donnie…"

"What?! No he doesn't!"

"He - he said he d-did - he said he hates me and you know he's n-not - not a l-liar…."

"I know he says stuff he don't mean, though."

"He m-m-meant it."

"No he didn't," Raphael says, his voice firm but gentle, "I'll go talk to him. I promise he didn't
mean it, Leo. It's gonna be okay."

"No it's not. An' it's my fault…"

"No it's - okay." Raphael takes a deep breath, clearly at his limit. He turns and grabs Splinter and,
in spite of his father's indignation as being handled so rudely yet again, sets Splinter up on the edge
of the bed beside Leonardo, as if he is a prized stuffy. "Here's dad!"

Leonardo bows over Splinter's lap immediately, resting his head on Splinter's shoulder. The
movement clearly causes him pain - he tenses up, and a sob snags around the sharp noise he
makes. He just cries harder when Splinter puts his arms around him; he gasps and mumbles 'm
sorry, 'm sorry, 'm sorry .

If Leonardo is in this state, Splinter is very worried about what state Donatello is in.

Future Boy watches them anxiously for a second, looking out of his depth, but glances up as
Raphael and Michelangelo move toward the door.

"Should I come with you or should I stay and help Sensei?"

"Stay," Raphael says, "We'll get April on it. And we'll call as soon as we find Donnie!"

"Be careful, boys," Splinter cautions.

It is still too soon after the Invasion for things to be Normal. In any capacity. Between all the
destruction, the clean-up and rebuilding efforts, the Kraang abominations that are still cropping up
from time to time, and the humans that are patrolling the desolate streets with extra vigilance, it is
not safe to be out and about - especially at night. Especially when his sons are not at their fighting
best.

Michelangelo gives him a very teary thumbs-up and scampers out ahead of Raphael.

Splinter hears Raphael ask, "Are you sure he's not somewhere in the lair, Mike?" And
Michelangelo's anxious reply, "I checked all our rooms! I checked the lab! I checked everywhere! I
called his phone but I can’t hear it ringing or buzzing anywhere. I asked Shelldon to pull up the
security cams, so -" before the door hisses closed.

It is a while before Leonardo calms enough to allow Future Boy to bandage his arm. His blood has
soaked the blanket and the front of Splinter's robe. Both are shed and the former is replaced, and
Future Boy pushes over the heat lamp and plugs it in again because Leonardo is shivering and cold
to the touch. In the absence of the IV, Future Boy digs some painkillers out of the cabinet and
replaces the bottled water that was knocked over.

Leonardo stares at the pills in his palm and makes no move to take them.

There are still tears puddling in his eyes. They spill out whenever he blinks, but his sobs have
passed and his breath is coming easier now.

Splinter fusses with the new blanket. He feels the water bottle and wonders if it is too cold, and
curses himself again for not remembering how to make that hot chocolate. He does not think
Leonardo will talk with Future Boy in the room - but Future Boy is a steady, intuitive young man
and he seems to realize that, as well. Now that Leonardo is cleaned up and somewhat stable, he
points his thumb toward the door and says, "I'll step out for a bit and - see if anyone's called."

He takes Leonardo's phone with him.

"Alright, baby blue," Splinter says gently, turning to his uncharacteristically taciturn son, "Tell
Papa what is wrong."

Leonardo’s mouth twists.

He looks away, closing his fist around the pills.

It hurts to see his son in so much pain, but Leonardo is awake, and Splinter cannot make him take
the pills if he is not ready to, or does not want to, even though he knows they will help.

Perhaps Leonardo is not ready to be helped….

The notion of that hurts much worse.

"Casey said…” Leonardo finds a small, quiet voice that is not much like his own, “Casey said
every - everyone - died. I couldn't… I couldn't l-live with myself if it was all m-my fault… for
being stupid. I was s-scared. I didn't know what else - to do, Dad. ‘M sorry…” His voice wobbles
again, and more tears flood out. “I didn’t know what else to do…"

Oh.

They are talking about that.

How does Splinter console his son when he is still not quite able to console himself in that regard?
It was his worst nightmare. One of his precious sons, gone in an instant. He thought he had lost this
bright, beautiful boy forever and his world was bleak in Leonardo’s absence, however short it was.
The weight of that grief still threatens to crush him.

It is unbearable to think about.

 It was no comfort at all that the threat had been abated, that everyone else - that the planet itself,
that the future - was safe. They may have been thrust upon him by happenstance, but Splinter chose
his sons. He chose them over his own well-being. He chose them over his ancestors, over
obligation, over tradition. He chose them over the safety and peace of the entire world once, and he
would make that same choice again in a heartbeat.

What does it say about him, that he would rather the world burn if it meant his sons could live?

Splinter rests his hand on Leonardo’s arm.

"My son. We understand why you did it," Splinter says heavily, "You do not have to explain. But…
You are important too, Leonardo. It was heartbreaking to think we had lost you.”

“M sorry…”

“You do not have to be sorry for making that choice. …Is this what upset Donatello?”

Leonardo nods, his mouth trembling again.

That is easy enough to remedy.

“Donatello is angry because he was frightened, and because he is upset - but that does not mean he
does not love you."

Leonardo looks up at him with those big, wet eyes. For all that he is nearly grown, all Splinter can
see is his little boy, always a bit too confident in himself; always trying to hide how soft he is,
hoping the next inevitable blow will hurt less. Both twins are like that. Often Splinter looks at his
sons and sees himself - his bests, and his worsts, and something more.

They are like mirrors into his soul.

Because Splinter cannot leave the mood so heavy, he adds, "You know how persnickety he can
be."

Leonardo's next huff is perilously close to a laugh.

That will have to do for now.

Chapter End Notes

Any parents in the audience particularly tore up abt how much Splinter loves his
sons?? Just me?? Cool ✌ Also rejection sensitive dysphoria my
old friend!

Love u guys thanks for reading!!

 i think i died
Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

April scrambles over a pile of rubble, clutching her phone in one hand and her baseball bat in the
other, and struggles to keep her footing as she half-falls half-slides down the other side. She bangs
her elbow, scuffs her knee, and keeps going. The tracker on her phone pings more urgently as she
moves forward. April doesn't need it any more - not when she can see him now. She'd recognize
that hunched, purple-clad shape anywhere, even in the eery semidarkness cast by the distant city
lights, even as he moves somewhat erratically through the charred remains of a literal freakin' alien
spaceship.

"Donnie!"

He doesn't even look her way.

Maybe he didn't hear her - she didn't exactly shout.

This is Ground Zero. Metro Tower, plus five city blocks of absolute devastation.

The whole area beneath the Technodrone's arrival and subsequent destruction was evacuated,
fenced off, plastered with biohazard signs, and is currently being patrolled 24-7 by several heavily-
armed army guys that were very difficult to sneak around. There's still Kraang viscera everywhere.
The broken bodies of vehicles and half-tumbled buildings. A reek in the air that burns April's
throat.

She has no idea how Donnie even got in here, or what the hell he's doing.

Damn him and his long legs…!

April jogs across a strip of relatively flat street, hopping downed power lines and dodging chunks
of broken asphalt, thumbing at her phone. She texts, Found him!, to Raph then sends a quick note
about the guards and the place where she found it easiest to get over the fence.

Raph's reply is lightning quick: ETA 15min

Okay. Good. April pokes Donnie's contact next and calls him - he's still moving away from her, but
she can see his phone light up. It's like a beacon in the dark. Donnie has his phone in his hand. He
has his phone in his hand and he doesn't bother to answer it and that pisses April off something
fierce because she has been calling that goddamn phone every two minutes for the past half hour!!!
She's made herself sick worrying about his stupid ass!!

Donnie doesn't even look at the phone. He doesn't silence the ringer - that jaunty little tune he
hums or whistles all the time fills the otherwise freakishly silent area and April ends the call herself
before it draws unwanted attention. Donnie keeps moving, rifling through the debris like he's
looking for something. He only occasionally pauses to glance around, as if getting his bearings,
only to dart off in another direction.

He never once looks toward April even though by now she's certain he can hear her coming. April
puts on a burst of speed, jumps a car, hops a pothole, and at last manages to close the distance.

She hisses between her teeth, "Donnie."

"What?" he snaps, bland but alert - like he is perusing a particularly interesting science article or
working a clever puzzle and she is breaking his focus.

April doesn't bother checking her speed. She slams into Donnie with her shoulder, with everything
she has, knocking him down. Donnie grunts as he hits the ground on his side. April throws herself
on top of him, grabbing two fistfuls of purple hoodie, before he has the chance to wander off
anywhere else.

She wants to shake him so bad.

"What the hell's the matter with you!?" she demands, "We've been lookin all over for you!!"

"G-get off, April!"

Donnie shoves her off - hard. The show of strength, the lack of care, catches her more off guard
than suddenly landing painfully on her ass does. Donnie rolls forward to his feet and moves away
without looking at her. He's not normally one for eye contact, anyway, but this feels different. April
knew something was wrong.

Now she knows something is really wrong.

She climbs to her feet, but doesn't touch him again.

"Hey. What's goin' on! What are you doin' here?" When Donnie moves away without
acknowledging her, April follows him. "Donnie! Hello?? You ran off from home without tellin'
anyone where you were goin' or why! You upset Leo! You scared ya brothers and Splintz! You're
not answerin' ya phone - or me! …Donnie!"

"Can you please be quiet?" He sounds normal, his tone flat, if mildly exasperated. That's actually
freaking April out more. Donnie strides purposefully from one pile of debris to the next, turning his
head from side to side. April jogs to keep up with him. "I can't hear."

"Hear what?" she asks.

There's no noise out here. It's dead quiet.

Especially when they both stop walking and the scuff of their feet stops echoing softly in the
stillness. Donnie stands facing one direction for a long moment and then turns and walks in the
opposite direction. April staggers after him.

"Nothing," Donnie says.

"Are you bein' evasive or literal right now?"

Donnie doesn't answer, and that's answer enough.

"Donnie," she tries to make her voice firm but it trembles anyway. Her legs are shaking. She
squeezes her phone and the handle of her bat to steady herself. "Are you havin' like a breakdown or
somethin'?"

"No."

"Are you sure??"

"No."
"No you're not sure your not havin' a breakdown??!"

"Yes - no - I -" Donnie makes a frustrated noise. His hands curl into trembling fists and he turns
toward her so suddenly that April flinches back. "I don't know, April! I don't know! I don't know
what's wrong with me or how to fix it, or if I can fix it!! I don't even know if any of this is real and
that's what I'm trying to figure out and you are very much not helping!!"

"How - how can I help?" she asks.

She's not Leo - she can't psychically intuit what Donnie needs. She can't effortlessly cheer him up
like Mikey or comfort him the way Raph would. She knows Donnie is different and he always
needs something different. She's usually pretty good at figuring out what that something is - but
right now she needs a fucking clue. Donnie is actually looking at her now, though. He was tense a
second ago, but now all the tension has bled out and he's stopped gesturing so erratically. He's
breathing hard, but he's just staring at her like he's seeing her for the first time, blinking hard like
he woke up from a dream.

"Tell me what you need me to do, Donnie," April says, desperate to keep his attention. "Tell me
what you're doing here. Do you - do you know where you are?"

Donnie blinks at her a few more times, his breathing slowly evening out. He turns his head,
looking around - and he's here for a second, but then his gaze sort of loses focus, and April wants to
reach out and grab his hand, to ground him, to pull him back, but she doesn't want to scare him off.

"I just - wanted - I needed to see it…"

"See what?"

Donnie gestures, like he doesn't know, or can't say. April looks around. Everything all looks the
same to her in the dark, but she hazards a guess, "The city….?"

Donnie shakes his head.

"Metro Tower?"

Another head-shake.

"The… wreckage?" Not quite a head-shake. April pays more attention to the wreckage - the bits
that clearly aren't part of New York's typical brick-and-mortar aesthetic. This particular area has
been showered with debris from the Technodrome. Columns of torn tendons and clumps of pale
pink viscera litter the ground. "The… ship?"

Donnie tenses.

April wouldn't have even noticed if she wasn't standing so close to him.

"The ship," she says again. She watches Donnie's expression shift from blank and unfocused to
pained; watches him close his arms around himself and grip the fabric of his hoodie tight in his
hands. "Why did you want to see the ship, Donnie?"

"I-I think I…. I think I… died," Donnie says.

He says it softly but it hits April like a ton of bricks.

"I think I died, April," Donnie mumbles, "I think it killed me. When it pulled me out. It was… so
painful. I could f-feel… everything. I could feel everything and it was me but so much more than
me and then I got r-ripped - out of it and I lost all of it - a-and it hurt and I was burning and
withering and dying and now I don't - I barely - feel…" He unfolds his arms to make a small, vague
gesture at himself. His hands are trembling. So is his voice. "I can barely feel anything and it's just
not… the same. Something's not… right. Inside. I don't…. Know how to explain…."

Jesus Christ.

What the hell does April even say to that?

Donnie paws at his arms, grimaces like he's in pain. His eyes glisten with unshed tears.

Slowly, April reaches out. She pauses with her hand almost looped around Donnie's wrist and
glances up at him. She asks quietly, "Can I try somethin'? It requires touching."

Looking down at her hand, Donnie nods.

April grabs his wrist with a firm but careful touch, and waits a few seconds to let him get used to it
before she steps closer, pocketing her phone, dropping the bat. She reaches up, into the raised hood
of his jacket, and cups her hands around Donnie's face. He tenses briefly, but lets her. And he goes
easily when she pulls him down so his head is resting on the left side of her chest, where her heart
is thumping wildly beneath her breastbone.

"Y'hear that?" she asks.

Donnie nods.

"Do you feel it?"

He nods again.

"Good." April folds her arms around Donnie's shoulders and holds him there. He always seems a
lot smaller without his battle shell on. She flattens her palms against his soft shell, and Donnie
shudders but doesn't pull away. "That means we're both alive. Right?"

Donnie doesn't answer right away.

He's probably (she hopes he's) counting her beats-per-minute or measuring her lung capacity or
something - both data points that will be skewed by how stressed she is right now. It'd be nice if he
pointed that out or something. Then she'd know it's working. Instead, Donnie takes a big deep
breath and lets it out slowly. He relaxes so much, April suddenly finds herself bearing the majority
of his weight, and Donnie is bigger and heavier than he looks.

April would be afraid that he passed out or something if his arms didn't tighten around her the
second before them both go down.

"Donnie!"

"Sorry! Sorry…" Donnie mumbles, "Hang on."

He's crushing her, but he doesn't let go. He keeps his head on her chest, listening to the thump of
her heartbeat and the breath going into and leaving her lungs, and April gives him a cursory shove
so she's not completely struggling for air, but lets him hang on for as long as he needs to. Stupid
boy just needed a hug. Damn.
 "I swear, y'all are so high maintenance," she says, staring up at the red and blue fogged sky.

She lets out a shaky breath.

Too much light pollution to see a single star...

Chapter End Notes

All my "Donnie Should Be a Lil Fucked Up... As A Treat" PPL i see u and y'all are so
valid

Thank u guys for reading!!!

 a glass ball
Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

April text them, Hang back for a bit.

Raph is crouched against the AC of a roof, staring intensely at his phone like that might manifest
an OK to move in. Mikey leans against Raph's left shoulder, his elbow propped on one of the
spikes, his own phone in his hand. He text Leo's phone to update Casey, and sent a round of texts
to Splinter and Draxum, as well. Draxum left him on read and Dad hasn't looked at it yet - but he's
probably still with Leo (or he doesn't know where his phone is again), so Mikey isn't too worried
about it.

Casey text him back a thumbs up emoji.

Mikey sighs, slumping further and resting his chin on Raph.

"It's been ten minutes," Raph says, poking his phone screen with his thumb so it doesn't go to
sleep, "In five more, we're goin' in."

"Just give her some time, Raph. If they weren't okay, April would let us know."

"I know…"

His Raph Chasm is looking pretty chasm-y. Mikey rubs his forehead, trying to smooth it out before
it sticks and also to comfort him. Raph sighs and relaxes enough to finally let the phone drop,
sinking back against the wall and looking out over the city.

It's weird being… out.

It's quieter than normal. There's the familiar sounds of traffic and construction and the murmur of
feet and voices, but there's also a huge black spot in the relative middle of their lively, brightly-lit
city and even when Mikey tries not to look at it because it makes his shell prickle with anxiety, it
inevitably draws his eye. Why in the world would Donnie wanna come back here by himself?

Mikey's phone buzzes in his hand.

He nearly fumbles it to the concrete.

It's a text from Draxum - a time and date for their next mystic therapy session (like Physical
Therapy, but for mystic powers) and a reminder to bring his "similarly afflicted brethren". Mikey
texts back, his tongue between his teeth: Can do ☀️

He pats Raph's shoulder.

"Do you think you and Donnie would be down for talking to Drax about the mystic tingly-arms
and your - uh -" He hesitates. They've all been a little skittish about saying the K-Word. Mikey
umms again and makes a vague, circular gesture at his own face when Raph looks up at him, and
just settles for, "Molested by an alien entity situation?"

Raph sighs and looks grumpy.

"I'm gonna wring Donnie's neck for callin' it that…. Now it's stuck."
"I could'a said alien invasion, which woulda been funnier and ironic, but that felt too broad."

"That's still better… What's Draxum want?"

"Okay so, when he came by the lair the other day, I told him everything that happened, right? I
figured he's the mystic expert and he'd know a lil somethin' about how I made that portal thing and
why my arms feel like jelly about it now and why I keep feelin' - I dunno - weird and stuff."

Mikey pauses, trying to think.

How does he describe that burning, wandering feeling without freaking out Raph?

… He can think on it for a while longer.

Raph's worried enough about Donnie right now.

"Anyway, he said somethin' about how… channelin' our ninpo is different from regular yokai
powers because of pops," Mikey goes on, "I think he just might be mad cuz pops is mad."

"Yeah. What'd he say about the portal thing and your jelly arms? I didn't even think to ask
Draxum."

"Me either! I might not a if Casey hadn't mentioned it!! But Drax was lame and said that I'm a
'novice' -" Mikey rolls his eyes, uses air-quotes. "- And I should never have attempted such a
'powerful and complex technique'. But he also said it was impressive that I managed not to
explode! And he checked me over and had me do some meditation and exercises and stuff and said
I just - um - over-juiced my mystic pathways."

"I doubt he said over-juiced," Raph says with a chuckle.

"That was the jist of it."

"So you're good, Mikey?"

"Just need a little TLC," Mikey says with a smile, "And some trainin' to get back up to par. But
that's stuff we all need right now."

He drops his hand onto Raph's head and rubs it gently again. Raph sighs and relaxes even more, as
if some weight has come off him. His right eye looks a little discolored tonight, the white parts
tinged slightly yellow and the colored part a little more pink.

Raph reaches up to dig at it with his fist.

He checks his phone.

They sit quietly for a few minutes.

"What's Draxum think he can do about…" Raph points vaguely toward his face.

"He just said he wanted to take a look at ya. He listened pretty intently when I was explainin'
everything about the whole… possession thing. And the aliens. He said somethin' about maybe
needin' some empyrean and then he said he had some research to do and shooed me off. So? I
dunno. But it couldn't hurt, right?"

"Empyrean's that stuff the Shredder used to try an take pop's Hamato essence, ain't it?"
"Think so."

"I dunno if I like the sound a that," Raph admits.

Mikey doesn't want to have another discussion about Draxum's admittedly skewed moral compass,
so he opts to lapse into silence again, instead. That's when Raph's phone opportunistically buzzes
with a couple of texts from April. Mikey perks up to read them over his shoulder as Raph quickly
unlocks the phone.

>>On our way out an everybody better be cool

>>Where yall wanna meet?

Raph texts back as he stands and Mikey slides to his feet. They make their way toward the edge of
the city lights over the rooftops and it grows quieter and less busy the closer they get. The damage
to the buildings is worse. That Kraang smell is heavy in the air here, even after weeks. Raph and
Donnie had smelled like this for days, and showering didn't help - the reek had to fade on its own,
Mikey guesses.

It turns his stomach to smell it now.

They reach the designated alley down the block from where the fence went up, about the same
time that Donnie and April do. Mikey is relieved they don't have to wait. He leaps off the fire
escape and sprints to Donnie, absolutely intending to jump on him - "Donnie! Man, you scared
us!!" - and not at all expecting Donnie to open his arms to catch him and pull him into a shell-
crushing hug. Donnie tucks his face into Mikey's shoulder, between the ridge of his shell and
plastron, and wraps both arms around him.

It takes Mikey a second to catch up.

It's been two weeks since Donnie reached out to touch any of them in a way that wasn't strictly like,
clinical. So Mikey is understandably caught a little bit off his game. He knows Donnie prefers firm
touches when he wants them at all, so he reaches up and flattens his hands against Donnie's soft
shell, holding him back just as tightly. Donnie shudders. He makes a faint noise that Mikey only
hears because it's right by his head, and if Donnie weren't still holding onto him, Mikey would
have taken that as his cue to let go and step back, but he keeps holding on, instead.

"Hey, Dee," he says softly, "You okay?"

April appears over Donnie's shoulder as Donnie hums a tense (and unconvincing) affirmative. She
puts her arms out like she's hugging someone and moves her hands up and down. Mikey slowly
and firmly rubs Donnie's shell. Donnie relaxes against him with a big sigh, and April gives him two
thumbs-up.

"So what happened?" Raph asks.

"We talked it out," April says.

"Okay." He sounds a little hurt and a little annoyed. "Talked what out?"

"Some stuff," April says in her don't push it tone.

"Sorry," Donnie says softly, into Mikey's shoulder. It's loud enough for Raph to hear it, too, but
probably just barely. "For running off without saying anything. I didn't… mean to worry everyone.
I just wasn't thinking."
"It's okay," Mikey says immediately.

"It's not okay," Raph says.

"Raph," April says warningly.

"It's not okay, April! Leo was still bawlin' his face off when we left! You know he don't cry easy! I
wanna know what you two got heated up about, at least, because we're not leavin' it like this. All
the other stuff is whatever but this is a glass ball, Donnie."

Mikey is a little surprised Raph remembers that analogy. They were all struggling with a lot of
stuff with the leadership thing - Mikey tried to bring in some harmony by suggesting that they
think of themselves as jugglers with a lot of balls in the air. Some of the balls they were juggling
were plastic (droppable) and some of them were glass (NOT droppable). But Leo had fallen asleep,
and Donnie had been on his phone, and Raph had scolded both of them for not paying attention,
but Mikey wasn't sure if any of them had really listened.

It was a plastic ball, so Mikey didn't worry about it.

But this is definitely a glass ball.

Mikey, reluctant and slow, lets go when Donnie does and steps back.

Donnie doesn't look at any of them, but his eyes dart back and forth while he frowns, like he's
thinking hard about something. He lifts his hands in front of him and pushes his sleeves up out of
the way a bit. He makes half a sign, then hesitates. Mikey and Raph are not as savvy with sign
language as Leo is - those two have always communicated nonverbally - but they can both
understand better than they can sign back.

'It hurts,' Donnie signs haltingly, without looking up. He hesitates, then signs it again. Maybe for
emphasis, maybe because it's hard to go on with the rest of what he wants to say, and Mikey's chest
is already tightening when Donnie signs it a third time. 'To think about… losing him.'

"Oh," Raph says softly.

Mikey wants to cry.

That explains the he said he hates me thing. Of course Donnie would say something like that. He's
always thrown his own emotions right back at people because he doesn't know what to do with
them.

Donnie signs, 'I hate… feeling…'

They all wait patiently for him to continue. And Mikey realizes as Donnie slowly drops his hands
to his sides that he doesn't have anything else to add.

That was the whole sentence.

I hate feeling.

"You don't hate feeling, Donnie," April says patiently, but with an affectionate eye-roll. She tucks
her hands into her jacket pockets and nods her head toward Raph. "Hug your other brother an then
see how you feel about feelin'"

Raph is trying admirably to keep his tears at bay, sniffling, "Raph would be so down for a hug right
 now, Donnie. Just sayin'. Is 'at -?"

Donnie is nodding, looking at his feet, trying to blink the tears out of his own eyes.

Raph swoops in and hugs him, gently at first and then more firmly when Donnie smushes his snout
against Raph's chest and hooks his fingers into the slight ridge where Raph's plastron meets his
bridge. Raph's big hand rubs Donnie's back. He holds Donnie close, tucked under his chin, and
finally lets his tears fall.

Mikey shuffles over to April to get another hug for himself and is welcomed into her unzipped
jacket with open arms.

She says, "It's gonna be okay," and Mikey believes her.

Chapter End Notes

I'm rewatching RISE for lore and reading the wiki pages and also deciding that this is
my city now and I'm trying not to think too hard abt this!! *jazz hands* Also since I
used her (brilliant) analogy abt juggling I just wanna say that we all want what Nora
Roberts has and it's the ability to scoop 25k words out of her brain and onto the paper
inside for an hour Lmao Give me a fraction of your Executive Function Ms Roberts.

I've got like 4 other WIPS i'm tryina crunch out simultaneously bc if i only have one I
get SO BORED lmao so Thank u for ur patience!

And thank u guys for reading!!

 wedged between them
Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

Leo doesn't know how long he's been asleep - everything is skewed on pain meds - but he knows
Donnie is in the room with him before he even wakes up.

His sleep is really calm, he doesn't dream, and he's warm. It's no surprise at all when he eventually
peels open his eyes and finds Donnie curled up against his side, sans hoodie, under the blanket
with him so they're skin to skin, with his head resting on Leo's shoulder. He's playing Cats & Soup
on his phone and the soft folksy music and the sound effects of soup bubbling and acorns cracking
and the juice mixer buzzing and coins rattling are all weirdly soothing. Or maybe that's just the
Donnie Effect.

Leo watches the hot air balloon sail unscathed past the cats making soup.

"You didn't even mug the rat," Leo says sleepily.

"I let him go with a warning. Besides, this is your phone," Donnie says, flipping it to show the blue
drop case and the JJ moon buggy sticker that has a line faded through the middle from the specific
way Leo always holds it, "I already cleared all my stuff and I figured you hadn't played in a while. I
fed all of your cats so your hearts are up. You're welcome."

"Well that was awful sweet of ya, Dee."

"Uncharacteristically saccharine, I know." Donnie puts the phone down and turns slightly away
from him, reaching for something on the bedside table. "Since you're awake, let me see your
hand."

Leo offers the one that isn't wedged between them.

It's still sore from where he pulled the IV out and it looks like the bandage needs to be changed.
Donnie notices the red showing through and turns Leo's arm briefly to look at it before grabbing
Leo's hand, instead. He pricks the pad of Leo's finger without warning, with one of those at-home
blood test boxes. Leo winces and jerks his hand, but Donnie holds it still while his blood lands on
the test strip and then he quickly wraps a spare cloth around the still-freely-bleeding digit, saying
blandly,

"Oh wow that's kind of a lot of blood, actually."

"S'been doin' that."

"I realized. Hence the test."

Donnie stares at the little screen on the box, waiting for the blood to process, applying pressure to
Leo’s finger with his thumb and holding Leo's hand in his lap. Leo leans on his shoulder now and
dozes. When the box beeps, Donnie hums.

Leo hums back with the same inflection.

Donnie answers the wordless query, "I had you on an anticoagulant. A -"
"Blood thinner."

"Right. Because removing a blood clot is a bit outside of my skill set - not to mention comfort zone
- and taking you to a human hospital to have emergency surgery is out of the question, so it seemed
like a decent preemptive measure to take at the time considering your extensive injuries. I did,
however, not remember to check your platelets after the fact and now your blood is water so….
That's why you've been bleeding so profusely after every little stick or scrape and why you're still
hideously bruised."

"Wow, hideously was not necessary."

"That would also be why you've been so cold."

"Mystery solved," Leo says with a small laugh, "How do we make it soup instead?"

"I would have said more viscous, but soup is… unfortunately synonymous," Donnie admits, "It was
in the IV drip, so corrective action has already been taken. Your platelet count should return to
normal within a few days, but I want to check it every couple of hours just to be certain."

"Cool."

Donnie is still holding his hand.

"Want me to change your bandage?"

"Nah. S'fine right now."

Donnie digs Leo's phone out of a fold in the blanket with his other hand and leans his head on top
of Leo’s, shifting down a bit to get comfortable. He thumbs into the YouTube app rather than
resuming his game, realizes he wants nothing to do with Leo's cursed Recommended For You
feed, and searches for his own phone, instead. Leo is perfectly content to listen to Cryptid Hunting
videos while he sleeps, so he lets his heavy eyes fall closed again.

"Hey, Donnie."

"Hey, Nardo."

"'Member when we were kids an'… dad took us to the park that one time to play in the pond? A'
Mikey dared you to eat that frog we found, an you swallowed it whole an kept it down for maybe
like three seconds, an' then you puked it back up an' it hopped away like it was totally fine?"

"Unfortunately, yes, I recall the moment most vividly. As do you, apparently. Why?"

Leo shrugs, and chuckles. "‘S just thinkin' about it."

Donnie hums to acknowledge this.

After a moment, Leo says, "I f-feel like… that frog." It is not accompanied by a laugh, or a
chuckle, or anything to indicate that it's a joke. It's said heavily and with a cracking voice. "If that
makes sense…"

Donnie mulls this over.

"Do you know what?" he asks quietly.

 "What?" Leo asks.

"I feel like that frog too."

"Oh no." Leo does laugh then, softly, despairing. He moves his hand like he wants to reach for
Donnie before remembering Donnie is already loosely cradling his wrist. "F'real?"

"Yeah."

"Cause of the…."

"Yeah."

"S'at what's been wrong?"

"Partially."

"Y'okay?"

"Is 46 a prime number?"

"What…. Kinda dumb fuckin' nerd question is that and why would you ask a guy whose half
asleep on painkillers? N….. no? No. Final answer."

"Correct."

"Nailed it! Oh wait…" Leo sits with that a minute. Then he chuckles. "Guess we're two peas in a
pod, huh?"

"As always," Donnie sighs, but there’s a faint smile on his face because Leo is smiling.

"Or two frogs in a pond, I guess."

"That's not really a -"

Leo pulls his hand away and paws at Donnie's arm, so Donnie moves it. Leo pokes him hard in the
stomach and says, Ribbit.

Donnie is so surprised that he laughs.

Chapter End Notes

Not trying to knock down any HCs abt Donnie liking to eat frogs etc bc I'm in love
with them but it is just Very bold to assume if Vomitello DID eat a frog that he would
keep it down in any capacity lmao

Thank u guys for reading!

 judgement-free zone
Chapter Notes

Have another silly one! Texting is a nightmare to format and I'm frankly sick of
looking at it, im praying its legible lajfalkf

*NMM is Ninja Mind Meld

See the end of the chapter for more notes

There's five of them, so of course they have a group chat for meet-ups and food orders and memes
and other junk - but they also half a dozen sub-group chats that excludes one of them or another for
privacy (Donnie, specifically does not always like to be swarmed with 500 notifications while he's
working). April texts the one without Donnie in it.

April:
>>Donnie said it was ok for me to txt yall abt it so im openin up a Judgement-Free Zone yall ready
to me out

Leo:
>>no s but yes

Raph:
>>for sure! What's up?

Mikey:
>>judgement free baby!!!!

April:
>>ok
>>I'm holdin yall to that fr
>>he miss the hivemind

Mikey:
>>NOOO

Raph:
>>The What

April:
>>The ship

Mikey:
>>HE MISSES BEIN THE SPACE SHIP

Raph:
>>Ah man ☹️
Mikey:
>>APRIL PLS SAY PSYCH

April:
>>No dice lil man im sry

Mikey:
>>OH MAN POOR D

April:
>>He's fr upset abt it but he didn't wanna freak yall out

Mikey:
>>I DIDN'T THINK IT'D MESS IM UP LIKE THAT I SHOULDA NEVER LET IM DO IT
>>It was really cool but for what
>>that's so omigosh

Raph:
>>ok so that's why he's been so twitchy an quiet lately. And why he's suddenly been snugglin on us
?
>>I knew somethin was wrong but Dang

April:
>>yea s why he went back to the ship the other day too
>>parta why

Mikey:
>>so wdwd now??

April:
>>beats tf outta me that's why I txt
>>figured we could brainstorm a solution. He don't like to talk abt it smh u gotta crack him open
like a damn walnut

Raph:
>>yea I noticed! He’s been parkourin outta my grip every time I try

Leo:
>>what r u guys even talking abt wdwd we ARE his hive mind

Raph:
>> OH

Mikey:
>>OooOOOOHH

April:
>>OH WHAT

>>LEO IMA WHOOP YOUR ASS OH WHAT

**

BRO'S B4 [GARDEN TOOLS]

Raph:
>>Donnie unblock us it's important

Donnie:
>>No. Why was I suddenly being inundated with all of your dum-dum thoughts and feelings when
we all agreed that the NMM would be reserved for missions, emergencies, and only occasionally
for shenanigans?

Mikey:
>>April said u missed the

Donnie:
>>The Bee Brain.
>>Yes.
>>Oh how I miss thee…..

Leo:
>>ADJLFA
>>THE
>>HIVE MIND
>>U MISS THE HIVE MIDN U IDIOT first of all How dare u and I mean that in the least judgy
way possible
>>2nd unblock us u coward

Donnie:
>>I was operating a power drill.

Leo:
>>idc if u were operating the sun unblock us
>>embrace the pond mind

Mikey:
>>THE POND MIND

Donnie:
replied to: 'idc if u were oper...'
>>[Confused_Nick_Young.jpg]

Raph:
>>Did it help? It kinda felt like it helped.

Donnie:
>>You all are Very Exhausting and keeping such a broad mental link open between so many
 people for longer than a few seconds is more distracting than it is useful.
>>That being said: Yes, actually.
>>It did kind of help.
>>Microdosing on this for eternity, thank you, brothers.

Leo:
>>Me lifting this whole team and i can't even walk rn
>>ur welcome

Raph:
>>TY for lettin us in Donnie ❤️

Mikey:
>>Knock if u need us D

Donnie:
>>…..

**

DONNIE & APRIL

<<Very rude of you to issue no warning to me at all.

>>
>>they fix it tho?

<<"Fixed" is factually incorrect.

>>

Chapter End Notes

I’m trying to finish a couple of bigger fics atm so I wanted to let y’all know it may be a
minute before I update this one again! I’m glad I could ease off on a silly note, at
least! Also I’m still tryina figure out what exactly I wanna do with this, since it’s been
pretty off the dome up til now! I’ll ruminate on it!

Thank you guys for always leaving such amazing comments!! I read every one of them
and I’m always nervous for no reason abt replying individually but it means so much
to me to get such a lively response!! Thank thank u! I’m glad you’re enjoying all of
these so far and as always, thank y’all for reading!!
 a battered fragment of something bigger
Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

Leo doesn't have any other choice but to sleep.

Donnie makes sure of that.

He stays on top of Leo's pain medication so he feels as little as possible, makes sure Leo is rested
and hydrated and reasonably entertained, checks and changes Leo's bandages regularly, and
monitors Leo's vitals around the clock. He performs similar tasks with Raph and Mikey. He's been
working to repair any damage around the lair that was done by the invaders, enhancing his security
features, studying the herbicide April pilfered for him, and designing the most clever and
impenetrable vault in the history of vaults - the Big Kahuna of Vaults, if you will - because any and
all efforts he has made to destroy the Key has proved utterly and devastatingly futile.

Right now it's sitting in a steel box that Donnie hastily welded together and then reinforced with
mystic seals on all six sides. (He wishes it were tungsten, but alas, he has to use the resources
available to him since he does not have the power, stamina, control, or alchemical know-how to
create complex materials out of thin fucking air at the moment.)

It is under three feet of concrete in a hole he blasted in the floor of his lab.

It does not feel like enough.

And, unfortunately, all of this means that Donnie has gotten very little sleep himself the last month
or so. The effects of his untimely and brutal ejection from the Technodrome have waned enough
that they are not causing him additional stress, and he wears his exhaustion like a second shell;
comfortable in it, with everything that entails. But his brothers are, double unfortunately, onto him.

"Mikey! You are able-bodied and not currently serving a life-long ban from the mystic library like
Raphael, so I need you to accompany me."

They've reinstated the Buddy System in the wake of the Invasion (in the response to Donnie's
quote-unquote "breakdown", when he bolted off without telling anyone where he was going (in his
defense, he hadn't planned on going anywhere, he was distraught and in an illogical, over-
emotional headspace, but that was a nuance that wasn't worth pressing and did little to help his
case)).

Mikey decides to be belligerent to Donnie's perfectly amicable request and hits him back with a
bright smile, "Sure thing, Dee! But first: When was the last time you slept? And blacking out at
your computer DOES NOT count!"

"I refuse to answer on the grounds that any statement I make will be incriminating."

"Okay. So we can go after you have a nap, then."

Donnie could assert that he is fine and try to convince Mikey he will take a nap after they get back,
but it is essential that they go to the library now, while the things Donnie wants to look for are
fresh in his mind................. but he isn't willing to expend the energy.

His reserves are already dangerously low.

So he prioritizes.

He compartmentalizes.

Mikey won't accompany him to the library until he's slept at least three or four hours. That puts off
half his tasks, essentially for the rest of the day. That's……….annoying. Donnie pulls out his
phone to jot down his thoughts before he distracts himself further. Books on Alchemy. He wants to
pick Draxum's brain in-person, but will have to schedule it around the prior engagements Draxum
already has with himself, Mikey, and Raph for their various mystic or possession-oriented
ailments. He wanted books on mystic traps/triggers/seals/etc. Protective spells. Anything adjacent
to medicine. Anything he can use to enhance security around the lair. He is more than willing to
give magic a pass on it's clear inferiority to science this one time for this one thing, if it means
protecting his family.

He wanted to poke around any time-travel sections the library might have.

He wanted to see what sort of history books he could dig up.

(He wants to destroy this Key because nothing in the world angers him more than it's existence, but
clearly he does not have enough Information.)

"Hey, Donnie," Mikey says gently.

"Mhm, what?" Donnie asks, still typing on his phone.

"You wanna go take a nap with me?"

"Hm? Oh, no, I've got some other work to finish first. I'll get back to you."

"Donnie..!"

"No, genuinely, I will get back to you, but I have some other things to do first," Donnie says,
sparing a hand to wave dismissively and turning from the room.

What else needs done before he rests?

He needs to check on Leo again. He needs to give Raph another eye test. He needs to finish the
circuitry work and fine a new solar battery for that other camera he wanted to install. He needs to
test another laser. He's hit a wall with the herbicide (chemistry is one of his least favorite branches
of science; it is just not as instantly Rewarding as mechanics), so he's trying not to look at it for a
while, even though it's in the top percentile of Things He Needs to Work On. (He needs to eat, but
he can technically do that after.)

"I'm gonna grab your arm, Donnie," Mikey announces, and there's a pause before he does it that's
big enough to give Donnie time to decline.

Donnie does not.

He merely sighs, lowering the phone, diverting his attention to his baby brother.

Mikey has made a stout recovery. He still occasionally has trouble gripping smaller objects for
longer periods of time, and he still has difficulty channeling his mystic energy without utterly
sapping his stamina, but his arms no longer tremble at the slightest exertion and he has graduated
to merely wearing slightly-more-durable-than-normal elbow braces. His grip around Donnie's
elbow now is firm. In a way, it's grounding.
 Donnie is hyper-aware of the press of each of Mikey's fingers through the fabric of his hoodie.

Of his own pulse and the way it bucks against the outside pressure.

"It's time to take a nap," Mikey says in a calm, even voice, like he's expecting a disproportionate
tantrum from someone a quarter Donnie's age. Donnie would be insulted if the tone didn't work.
"All that other stuff can wait, Donnie."

The thing that irritates him most is, 1. Mikey is right.

2. It shouldn't have to wait.

Donnie pulls in a deep breath - fills his lungs slowly, paying extra attention to the movement in his
body, the way it feels as his chest expands and contracts - and slowly lets it out. He moves his arm.
Mikey takes this as the signal to let go, but is not disagreeable when Donnie reaches out, instead, to
grip his hand tightly. Mikey threads their fingers together and flashes Donnie a broad smile.
Donnie is not made of tungsten. (He wishes he was. His tender shell wouldn't ache. That ache
wouldn't make his head pound. It wouldn't bleed out into his limbs, both a real, physical, if-mild
pain from being hunched over some piece of tech or screen for too long - and the phantom of it, the
cascading sensation of something weaving, slithering, through his nerves that makes him jump
when he doesn't mean to.)

Donnie feels……… disconnected.

He feels like a battered fragment of something bigger.

"I bet Leo an' Raph are ready for a nap, too," Mikey says, squeezing his hand, "Let's go ask 'em!
S'that okay, Donnie?"

"Yeah," Donnie says softly, "Thanks, Mikey."

(Maybe he is.)

Chapter End Notes

Well, Hi! And surprise lmao today was my birthday and I got to spend it by myself
(not being pinched or climbed on or hollered at (affectionately) by my baby, whom I
love) and I committed like 3 hours this morning to cross-stitching and watching Alone,
and then I laid out on the porch like a fucking lizard soaking up the first rays of warm
sun in DAYS and crunched this out from sheer euphoria! *blows y'all a kiss*

Thank you for reading!

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