Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Something was wrong.

Counterpoint, many things were wrong in this situation, Donatello mused. 

For one, every single nerve in his teenage mutant turtle anatomy felt like it had been deep-fried in a raging hellfire, an unexpected yet unsurprising consequence of being violently ripped from the grasp of an alien ship.

His separation from the Technodrome was not a peaceful one. To go from one sensory nightmare to another except with eyes and teeth was awful enough. And yet, it’s not his rapidly growing fear of boneless appendages, inability to hold a single cohesive thought in his likely concussed head, the intensely aggravating pain that overwhelmed him from head to toe, or incoming panic attack that indicated to him something was seriously wrong, no.

It was the fact that the eyes he looked through were currently making direct eye contact with himself, a reasonable indication that the eyes he was looking through were most definitely not his own.

Furthermore, judging by context clues and the overwhelming wave of bloodlust that flooded the crevices of his mind, he comes to the unfortunate conclusion that the eyes he was currently looking with belonged to the Krang.

God, why did it have to be the fleshy tentacle monster?

“Donnie! Mikey!”

Don’s head turns to Leo in surprise. Ignoring his terror and the trippiness of seeing his head turn with no change in his actual viewpoint, he takes a better look at his surroundings. While Leader Krang sat on a throne, his body and Mikey’s hung tied by the Drome’s tentacles– they were way too close to Krang for an attempted escape to be plausible. Leo stared straight at him (his body, at least) and Mikey in horror, slightly battered and blocked by-

SLAM.

Leo topples to the ground with a groan.

..Raph.

His stomach lurched as Raph’s monstrous form stalked toward Leo, who refused to raise his sword at him. Don couldn’t help but struggle in an attempt to reach for them– bile filled his throat, and he had to squeeze his sightless eyes shut when his efforts only resulted in the tentacles tightening further. Donatello wanted to scream something, anything, to rip them out of this nightmare, to tell Leo to run away and save himself.

But nothing came out.

Well, he supposes that’s what the face man's for, huh? 

Leo had an expression on his face that Don couldn’t recognize while he spoke. Though he was never all that good at interpreting facial expressions, something about his look felt different. New.

He hoped that was a good thing. It was hard to tell.

His twin brother’s voice was raw with emotion, tinted with this sense of vulnerability, a rare sight for the both of them. Don felt stunned as he made his confessions– his confusion, his fear. His realizations. Donatello himself teared up at the mention of family. And yet, despite its vulnerability, Leo’s words held so much conviction. Even in the face of death, his brother never failed to share his Leo-patented courage.

Even while his voice got choked out as Raph grappled a claw around their red-eared brother’s neck, it never lost his determination.

No amount of determination, however, could keep Don’s heart from pumping at the sight of Raph- his sweet, lovable big brother- reeling his other claw for one final blow.

It ached as Leo gave one long-awaited apology, closing his eyes and waiting for what comes next.

Mikey sobbed. The Krang smirked. Don could only hold his breath.

…

Raph hesitates.

“..Leo?”

Leo’s eyes go wide and fire up the moment their big brother muttered his name. “Yes!” he exclaims.

Oh thank Galileo.

Vines wrap themselves around Leo’s form, the teen in question crying out in pain.

Or not.

Leo didn’t let the vines stop him though. Fighting against the tentacles, he calls out to him and their youngest. “Mikey, Donnie, we can fight this! Raph’s doing it for us, so we’re doing it for him!”

As newfound determination and energy made their way through his body, he notes that Leo truly did make for an amazing leader.

Donnie grips his fists, adrenaline and mystic aura numbing the shakes and pains. He could feel his heart pumping in sync with the others, and the fire between them grew stronger and stronger.

A wave of anger pulses toward the teen but is deflected by his mystic energy. Leader Krang stands from his throne, and Don’s momentarily thrown off by the sudden change in perspective. 

“It’s pointless to resist the Krang,” it says rather pointlessly, Don notes. “Give up, you will be consumed like everyone else on this pathetic planet!”

In spite of the inhuman flesh that clung to the edges of his mouth, Donatello scoffs. 

Leo glares back. “Fat chance. We’re not like everyone else on this planet.” Their Hamato blood stirs, their thoughts perfectly aligning with the other. “We are..”

“The Teenage..”

“Mutant..” Donnie croaks out.

“Ninja..”

“Turtles!” Leo finishes off.

Screw the odds, this pink bastard’s going down.

With newfound comradery, the four break out of their restraints. In perfect sync, Don watches as Leo’s portal gave way to Raph’s sai strike, which gave way to Mikey’s chains. As disorienting as it is to have your mind linked to an alien monster, he grins at every wave of pain the Krang felt. 

And now, it was his turn.

“Geolocation algorithm my love, it is your time to shine,” Donnie mutters to himself with a smirk. Though he may not have his vision, for a bright mind like himself the Krang’s worked just fine- pinpointing the enemy’s exact coordinates, he unleashes his own mystic attack:

Big. Fucking. Guns.

GOD, he loved technology.

The Krang crashes to the ground, eyes shut and blocking both of their vision, and Don lets out a brief breath. He senses his brothers landing by his side– Leo chuckles. “If this isn’t the poster shot, someone’s getting fired,” he notes.

Don tenses as the Krang’s eyes opened once more. Their attacks definitely made contact with the alien beast, and yet it didn’t seem to be bothered at all. Forming a new battle shell and readying his staff, he gives a quick warning to his brothers. “Okay so one thing- actually, two things. I can’t exactly see through my eyes right now, I’ve been sort of looking through the Krang’s eyes for like the past 10-ish minutes-”

Mikey lets out a concerned yelp. 

“I theorize- this is the second thing- that hijacking the ship connected me to the Technodrome and some sort of Krang hive mind, and thus the ‘Krang vision,’ objectively inferior to my albeit contact-assisted Donnie vision,” he says, the latter piece of his sentence muttered under his breath. 

He could feel Leo’s stare, his twin letting out an aggrieved “..What.”

Raph sputters, just a little behind. “Uh, repeat that for me?” he yells, louder than usual. “I think my hearings a bit fu- hollup you hijacked the Technodrome ??”

“Haha I know right I’m amazing. Might be a later problem buuut anyways that isn’t our main concern at the moment.” Don sweats when the Krang moves from its location, and oh sweet Lord he can’t tell where it is-

“And what pray tell, is that?” Leo asks. 

“Alright so three things- my mind’s not working right now- but uh you know-”

A loud boom resonates behind the four.

“We are not done yet.” The Kraang says, anger evident.

“.. Yeah that.”

Don gulps and twists his body around to the looming Krang. He imagines this was similar to what the Shredder saw before he tore his claw through Don’s shell– both metal and flesh. He shudders at the memory, the similarities uncanny.

It’s fine though- this moment’s different. His brothers are back together, Leo and Raph aren’t fighting anymore, they all got their powers back, and sure he wasn’t in the best shape, but the underdog’s counterattack always leads to an overwhelming victory, regardless of the odds.

They staged an all-out attack, ready to take him out with one big swoop.

They were going to be fine, it always went fine.

..So why was this time different?

Donatello’s heart stops as the Krang lifts a single hand towards their descending figures; upon further thought, he realizes that the monster didn’t exude a single indication of pain or harm from their onslaught. They were giving all they had, and yet…

Fingers snap.

..Fuck.

The slight relief he had received from his mystic ninpo vanished the moment Don made contact with floating ground. Pain shot throughout his entire body, the sheer force breaking his ribs and wrenching the breath out of his lungs– unfortunately, mystic battle shells weren’t nearly as efficient in absorbing impact as titanium. 

His head whirled. He forces himself up, he didn’t have time to rest, not when-

He’s hit with the sight of him and Mikey. His next target.

“Mikey!”

Though he managed to stumble in front of his little brother’s way, he wasn’t nearly as fast in creating a force field.

Second time’s the charm, yeah?

Not really.

Everything went dark- he only comes to as the three mutants crashed onto the asphalt.

Raph’s voice rings in his ears. “Where are we? Staten Island?” he mutters.

Donnie groans, face-planted on the ground. 

His entire body screamed in agony, joining the symphony of wails that pummeled his head since the Technodrome. The temptation to stay as positioned was strong– alas, there was still an active threat, and thus he must push through. He pulls himself up for what felt like the millionth time today and rubs at the burning sensation on his pupils. “S-So, how would everyone rate that rescue experience? Unsatisfied? Very unsatisfied?” He blinks his eyes open during his data collection process, batting away at the wandering black spots. “Wish Donnie would.. have…” Don trails off.

Raph sighs. “Donnie. Leo’s still-”

“-Up there,” Don finishes. Panic rose from his gut. “I... I see him.”

Silence and dread dawned upon the three brothers as Donnie saw his twin shakily stand from his position, completely and utterly alone.

Donnie rapidly tapped at his wrist, opening comms to Leo’s location. “Nardo, I don’t know what you’re planning, but whatever it is, it won’t work. He’s too strong- you’re just going to get yourself killed!”

He kept calling his name, but Leo made no move to answer. The Krang made its advance toward Leo, who upon closer inspection had that same odd expression again... The lump in his stomach grew. 

Leo finally gets onto comms. “Casey. Casey, come in,” he says, ignoring his twin’s pleas.

Donnie stills at Leo’s tone. There was a hint of resolve in it; it was a tone he always used whenever he had another ludicrous yet uniquely genius plan, but it sounded… off. Judging by Mikey’s weak “Leo?”, he heard it as well.

The few working gears in his brain shifted as Casey indicated his position at the key gate. What could Leo possibly do? They fought the beast with all they had and it barely even left a scratch– the Krang overpowered them by a mile. Though he was certain the portal would destroy the Technodrome, he couldn’t think of a single way Leo could take the Krang down singlehandedly .

..Unless that wasn’t what Leo intended on doing.

Don thinks back to Leo’s expression and the way he closed his eyes amidst Raph’s grasp.

Nardo’s voice echoes through the intercom. “Casey, listen to me. When I get to the other side, you close that door.”

Blood runs cold.

His hearing goes fuzzy as Casey and Raph yelled in protest, Leo and their words coming out as static. He willed himself to move, but it was like the tentacles were on him again and tightening themselves and cutting his lung’s circulation and this dum dum was fighting the Krang all alone and going to kill himself and

He lets out a strangled scream as the Krang runs Leo to the ground. “ LEO!!!” he exclaimed.

Mikey mutters in concern beside Don but Don ignores him. “We need to get back up there, we- we need to–ggh.” He forces himself up and grasps the air in front of him. Leo was in danger, he needed them. He needed him. Someone- his jumbled nerves prevented him from figuring out who- held him back– he could only fruitlessly struggle in their grip. 

Casey’s words fade back into his ears, the boy’s pleas aligning with his own. “Leo, please! I can’t lose you again.” Donnie watches as a sad look reigned on Leo’s face, his twin pausing before speaking in the intercom. “Hey, future me would be real proud of you,” he says. “I’m proud of you.”

The Kraang’s words get picked up through Leo’s intercom. Donnie’s helpless to the sight before him, the Kraang shoving Leo further into the ground the more he speaks. “Weak words, weak actions,” he declares. “I have forever known what you fail to understand. Strength always prevails.”

Leo, in all his foolishly stupid glory, makes one last comeback. 

“What you fail to understand is I missed on purpose.”

Don’s vision goes bright as Leo stabs his sword into the Kraang and teleports them through the portal. Though the Kraang’s screams were unintelligible, Leo’s were: “Casey, close the portal now!”

The Kraang widens his eyes and turns towards the portal at his words. He tries to move toward the portal but is stopped by Leo, who wrapped his arms around the Kraang. It pummels its fists into Leo’s head– Don flinches at the sound of metal cracking bone. 

His heart palpitated. He struggled and yelled, but now both Mikey and Raph were on him– he was stuck. This couldn’t be the end, it couldn’t. With one last shove, he was able to release himself from his two brothers’ grasp, and he stumbled forward as fast as he could.

But it was too late, wasn’t it?

“Casey, please!”

Donnie and the Krang could only watch as the portal enclosed itself around, the Technodrome, ready to take it down with it. He glanced at Leonardo from the corner of the Krang’s eye.

Leo’s tired look of acceptance was the last thing he saw before his whole world went white. 

Don flinches at the sudden transition in brightness, followed by the blast wave of the explosion. Once the wind died down, he pried his eyes open, where he was greeted with...

With…

Raph called from beside him, terror and denial evident in his voice. “Donnie! Donnie, do you... Do you see him?”

“I-..” Donatello’s voice chokes up. He inhales shaky breaths, attempting to calm down and get words out. “No, I... I can’t s-see him.”

He couldn’t see anything at all.

Raph goes silent. Don doesn’t notice. No matter what direction he looked, all he could see was complete darkness. No Raph, no Krang, no New York City, no stupid Staten Island, and..

No Leo.

Trembling hands tap at his intercom, desperate to hear Leo’s voice again. This can’t be happening. “I can’t... Leo? Nardo you- dum dum, come in.”

Static.

“This... This isn’t some time to be playing a joke, Leo! Come on!”

Someone picks up. It isn’t Leo. “He’s gone, Donnie,” April said. “Let it go.”

He slams his fist in frustration. He ignores the jet of pain. “No! He's not.. He, he can’t. He can’t…”

Don stills as something wet blots his face. Unlike the warm, dried blood caking his skin, the trickling liquid was cold. He slowly raises a hand to his cheek.

Oh.

He was crying.

Leo was...

Don stares off into the neverending void of black.

“..He’s gone,” he states numbly. He doesn’t notice the sound of Raph collapsing to the ground, choking on his tears. For a moment, he doesn’t notice the growing orange aura coming from the direction of Mikey’s sobs and grunts, breaking the bleak darkness.

Everything was wrong.

Chapter Text

“He’s gone.”

Raphael Hamato was the worst older brother in the whole damn world.

He grips the ground below him shaking. He already knew he was an awful leader, yeah, but he thought, at the very least, he did his job as a big brother well enough. And yet, here he was, tearing up like a little baby as his younger brother served his death sentence.

‘Big ole Raph’ was truly just a ‘big ole’ fuck up.

He squeezes his left eye shut, instead putting his concentration on the sharp ringing in his head. Ever since he regained control of his body, he’d been losing all feeling in the right side of his face and body. Though he could still– weakly– move his right arm, his face remained immovable, and his ear seemed to have been rendered useless. The only indication he was crying through his right was the droplets dripping and soaking through the asphalt.

Raph thinks back to all the times he yelled at Leo, preaching left and right about responsibility. About duty. All his recent memories of his brother seemed to be plagued by tensions he created, Raph’s head too caught up in his own ass to ever hear what his brother had to say.

Maybe if he did, Leo would still be here.

Mikey’s sobs narrowly almost missed his good ear.

Remembering his two other younger brothers- how long has he gone neglecting them?-, he forced his head up to give them a look over. Donnie...

He ain’t ever seen his brother look so broken.

Small tears dripped from his typically level-headed brother with no resistance to be found. Donnie seemed just as beaten and bruised as him, blood dripping and staining from underneath his purple mask– he faintly notices the tears on its fringe and how they matched with his own.

Raph wishes he could wipe away the pure, empty grief in his eyes.

A loud grunt from Mikey breaks him out of his stare, making itself known above the persistent ringing. To his relief, the youngest seemed the least battered out of the fo- out of them . Mikey sobbed without shame though. Raph doesn’t blame him.

No one deserved to lose a brother at 15.

In the back of his mind, he wonders how many times he missed his little bro’s tears. 

Mikey’s arms were extended in front of him, as he tried... Something. He wasn’t sure exactly, but the way it made him pant and struggle in desperation made his heart ache.

He wills himself to stand. Right foot first, then left. “Mikey,” he rasped out, barely able to hear his own voice. “It’s over..” He couldn’t bear to see him like this.

The small boy shook his head, not even bothering to look Raph’s way. With surprising volume, Mikey said, “Leo never gave up on us. I’m not giving up on him.”

Raph stills, the response taking him aback. Of course, he’d never give up on his brother, but what could be done?

Despite everything, Mikey seemed to know exactly what to do. It was at this point that Raph made a small realization– for all the pain and loss they had gone through, it wasn’t desperation that framed his little brother’s face, no.

It was determination.

With one last cry, the box turtle engulfs himself in a bright, shining light.

Raph was breathless at first, staggering right next to Mikey’s side. Then, he was excited. Real damn excited. He wasn’t sure what was going on, but “Whoa. Mikey. Whatever you’re doing, don’t stop!”

The bright light manifested itself into what looked like a portal. It was orange, smaller, and seemed more unstable, the size fluctuating in jagged manners, but it was a portal nonetheless. Just like Leo’s. He stares in awe before Don calls for him. “Raph!”

Raph turns and is startled to see his younger brother standing right behind him and staring through him toward Mikey. Thrown out of his moment of dissociation– Raph knew his brother well enough to recognize it even if he didn’t really get it–, he was hunched over himself. Though his eyes were glazed to a concerning point, he seemed to know more about the situation than Raph did. “I can see it– the mystic energy, it’s eating up Mikey. Place your arm on him, quickly!” Don yelled.

Raphael moved without question, placing his weakened right arm onto Mikey’s left shoulder. 

He was unprepared for what he felt next.

Almost instantly, he groaned as burning hot pain spread rapidly from the tips of his fingernails to the rest of his body. It was like having a hot iron being pressed onto your skin, slowly melting it down to the bone– every ache and wound left from the Krang’s tight, blood-sucking grip only intensified with each passing second. Golden cracks surrounded his already scarred arm from the shoulder up. He couldn’t even imagine the amount of pain Mikey must be in. 

He glances toward Don, who hesitates for only a second before placing his hand on Mikey’s other shoulder. Don shook as more tears pricked the corners of his eyes, but he kept his eyes on the blinding portal with little difficulty. He’ll need to talk with him about his vision later. Mikey gives Raph a terrified glance, seeing the way they also grunted in pain. Reading his expression, Raph gives his crazy awesome little brother a reassuring smile.

He was going to be a better brother. No more fights, no more anger, no more pain. He promised to himself that as long as he was alive, he’ll keep his brothers safe, no matter the cost.

“We’re here, Mikey. Together.”

Their eyes flash to gold. The portal opens.

Before his eyes, Leo appeared. Bruised, battered, and half-dead, but here. He might not have been able to hear his words, but Raph could read his lips well enough.

“Took you guys long enough..”

“Leo!” Summoning his mystic ninpo, he reaches a large hand out for his little brother.

Everything was going to be just fine, he’ll make sure of it.

Then the loud, persistent ringing in his ear turned ear-shattering.

Out of the darkness came the Kraang. 

Donnie fumbles and takes out his bo staff, shooting a drill along the direction of Raph’s ninpo arm. Raph’s lungs give out as the drill misses its target; he tries to move Leo out of the Krang’s way.

It’s not enough.

Leo turns in fear.

Raphael and Leo’s screams, one of terror and the other in pain, echoed through his ears only as muffles while the Krang’s claws hit their target.

Raph’s hands shake as they take part in a cruel game of tug-and-war. He maintained his grip, but the Krang was too strong, and every pull just hurt Leo worse and worse and worse. 

Mikey lets out a loud whine from beside him. “I can’t.. hold…” The portal’s instability seemed to increase, gradually closing in as the yellow cracks flaked his entire body. 

Raph couldn’t hold back tears anymore.

“D-Donnie, please! Do something!” He turns to Donnie in desperation, but the frozen yokai shook his head, hyperventilating. 

“No, I-I can’t see! Their- their mystic auras are too close, if I were to use my bo again, he’ll end up in the crossfire– I don’t, I don’t know what to..” His voice trails off, replaced by sobbing gasps.

Raph’s throat felt dry. Mikey was busy keeping the portal open, and Donnie couldn’t help...

It was up to him.

His dull brain searched and searched for a solution, some way he could save him. But what could he even do? Mikey was the creative, Don was the innovator, and Leo was the strategist.

Asides from brute force, he had absolutely nothing.

But that doesn’t mean he can’t try.

No matter the cost.

Summoning every single ounce of mystic energy in his body, Raph unleashes one final move. With a cry, he pushes all his energy into his right arm– within seconds, it expands, his fist wrapping itself around Leo’s body and quickly encasing him in his protective grasp. It didn’t stop there, however. Just that alone wouldn’t be enough to level out the playing field. And so, Raph groans once more, letting every red flame that burned in his heart construct itself around his brother and ignoring the red cracks and burns that twirled and danced with the orange, until his red fist loomed over the lone Krang, larger tenfold.

“R-Raph,,” Mikey whimpers. The portal was closing even faster; time was ticking. With a nod, Raph reels his arm back slightly and calls out to Leo. “Hold on, Leo! Brace yourself!” 

It’s all or nothing now.

He charges his fist forward. “Power Punch Jitsu!”

Mystic energy makes contact with metal. Krang tries to resist the punch, but his arms that still stabbed into Leo trapped him in place, leaving him vulnerable to the full force of the Hamato’s power. For a second, the Krang and Raph were in a complete headlock, both immovable forces.

But this time, Raph was the one to win.

He sends another pulse of energy. The Krang’s arms give in.

Like a boss, baby.

Krang lets out another ear-piercing screech as his metallic arms rip off his torso, sending the monster flying. Raph doesn’t waste a single second and retracts his arm. The portal closes around his arm projection, dissipating the large construct with little difficulty. It makes him shudder, but he doesn’t care– all he cared about was finally going home.

Getting his arms ripped off didn’t stop the Krang for long. Raph only had a moment before the Krang launched himself after them. He could feel his energy running out fast.

One more time. Then it’s over.

He grabs Leo’s hand.

Like a snake shedding its skin, the remains of his red fist separate from its creator, taking the rest of his mystic power with it. As he and Don work to pull Leo out, the fist rebuilds into a large, solid clone of himself, blocking the portal.

Ah. That’s what his role was. He almost forgot.

The protector.

With one more tug, Leo’s pulled through the dimensional gate, into his arms, and correspondingly onto the ground. Krang fights off Clone Raph and blasts through him toward the portal, but by then, it was too late. 

Mikey winks. In one forward motion, he slashes the portal shut.

And just like that, the Krang was gone.

For good this time.

Raph gasps, lying on his back. Leo coughs from on top of him before rolling himself off. He lets out a minor wince as his side hit the ground.

Don’s immediately kneeled beside them, a look of terrified concern plastered on his face. His eye was fixated on their chests– where their mystic stuff was prolly–, but he didn’t do much else, just sitting beside them. Raph glances over at Leo and moves to sit up. He groans, the end results being pain, pain, and –oh what a surprise– more pain.

Mikey stumbles over to them as Leo’s eyes slowly flutter open. His brother in blue tilts his head around to look at his surroundings in slight confusion (Raph guesses his physical state was just as messed up as his own). He scrunches his face and opens his mouth to speak; nothing but blood-riddled coughs spill out. Raph’s alarms, still ringing, prompt him to try and move once more; only then does it settle on his numerous aching bones that he won’t be able to stand anytime soon.

The snapping turtle settles with turning his head, letting it dangle by the neck. “Leo?” he asks softly. “You good, buddy?”

Wiping the blood off his chin, Leo turns his head back towards Raph. It settled nicely on the asphalt. He stares at his big brother, and Raph stares back. With his lesser bruised arm, Leo places a finger on Raph’s bicep and traces a short, sweet message:

‘ew, si?’

He sticks his tongue out.

Raph blinks, the response unexpected. Then, his surprise turned into a snort. Which turned into a chuckle, which turned into something more. Leo smiles, a tear trickling down his face as he closes his tired eyes back shut.

This was far from a happy moment. Even through his blurry vision, he could see the black char that encased his disfigured right arm. His heart panged in sadness and fear seeing Mikey collapse to the ground in front of him, his arms still aglow.

Nothing was fine. While he wasn’t smart like Don, it didn’t take much to figure that they wouldn’t be fine for a while.

Mind Raph considers the possibility that it won’t ever be fine again.

But for this moment, this small, tiny moment, he let himself laugh. Through his tears and years of buried emotions, he let himself laugh.

Their family was alive– their home was alive. And, for now, that’s all he could really ask for.

He lets the world fade to black.

Chapter Text

Breathe.

In, out. In, out. 

Donatello was fine- his brothers were fine, the city was fine, his family was fine, everything was fine. It’s... it was fine.

1… 5... 10... 30. Breathe.

A cold breeze tickles the back of his scarred shell, making the softshell falter. In a moment of weakness, he found himself envying his twin brother, protected by the solid forms of his heated battle shell.

Oh, what a thought.

Reposition. Breathe. In, out. In, out. Repeat.

He tenses at the sound of a faint whimper. Raph and Mikey sat not too far away, just as unresponsive as their fourth. Though their breathing was weak and labored, he approximated their super-soldier bodies could keep them stable for at least a few hours. Which was a good thing, really– going from Staten Island to Manhattan is awful enough by car. Given the slim chance that the turtle could actually pull off this return mission without being spotted by a human or military op, it wouldn’t be a quick trip.

1. 2... 5-

The whirrs of an overpassing helicopter pierce Donnie’s ears. He could feel his body shake at the overbearing noise while his eyes watered. The teen willed his heart to still but it just kept beating in and out and in and out and-

He lowers his head closer to the ground. He puts his hands back into reposition. 10... 15... 30. Breathe.

In, out. In, out.

10.. 15.. 30.

Re-

He’s startled when the boy shifts. Had the movement been any more sudden, Don was sure he’d have choked on his own tongue. Calm down. Breathe.

He brings his head and hand down lower in an attempt to hear anything. Feel anything.

Just a word. A beat. A hand. A grunt, even.

…

...And yet, nothing.

He.. he needs to breathe .

Movement. Reposition. Repeat.

Nothing.

1. 10. 30-

Nothing’s changed.

Breathe. In, out. In-

He has nothing. He’s all alone.

30. Breathe. Repeat.

They are dead, nothing is fine, it’s useless, he’s useless.

Repeat. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat .

Donatello yells and shouts but it’s useless because as much as he hated change he prayed to the gods he spat at for a miracle and to please bring his brother back-

The boy lets out a gasp.

Don freezes. He dares not to move a muscle, listening to the string of coughs that sung from his brother’s coarse throat.

It.. he was.

Breathe. 

Leo’s breathing.

Don lets out a sob.

- - -

God fucking damn did Leo’s head hurt.

His body seemed to fail him on all ends, along with his memory and ability to maintain consciousness. From the tips of his toes to the cracks in his shell, his everything was straight up racked in pain– he could barely recall his own name, let alone his last living hours.

By the time he could muster up the strength to open his eyes, his mind stirred in confusion. Where was he? What happened? Where were his brothers?

Right! Brothers. He had those. Three, in fact. 

Had?

The boy’s startled from his thoughts when the ground makes an abrupt shift. He tries to look down, but all he could see was red. Blood– his, most likely. The movement came in small yet all-the-more jerky motions, an unrecognizable chirr accompanying it. He flinches openly as a rock underneath the fabric carrying him scrapes his knee. Ow. At least the undetermined soft body he was leaning on made for a comfy pillow.

Somewhat carefully shifting his body weight, Leo withdraws his arm from under him to rub the gunk shielding his vision. It tremors at the simple action, but he pays it no mind, tucking it closer to his chest. With nothing to shield his sight, he opens his eyes once more.

The first thing he was greeted with was some sort of drapery that he seemed to be tucked in. The fabric is thick and opaque, blocking out any outer light source from coming in. A bit of light did worm itself in from the openings, however, which gave him a better view of his honorary pillow, whose head bobbed up and down with each tug:

..Raph.

Unlike his own name, which took many moments for his drunken brain to realize, his big brother’s name slid its way upfront with as much ease as unwanted bitterness. Like a switch, memories began flooding once more, taking him back to the Kraang’s wrath— Raph’s near-death. 

Raphael. His brother, his role model, his predecessor. 

His once unbreakable pillar of strength now lying on the ground, having been stripped and beaten down bit by bit until there was nothing left but a broken, hollow child.

What’s worse? The Kraang only took up half of that blame.

Feeling claustrophobic, Leo shakily reaches out for the cover’s opening, peeling it back just enough for his head to peek through. He winces as the high sun blinded his eyes– it had to have been around noon.

His head struggles to adapt to the change in lighting. With how rarely they ventured out during the day, even now, the red-eared slider was way more accustomed to dark skies and city lights. While he enjoyed the warmth of the sun when it rises in the early morning, it is but a reminder of the world that he and his brothers could never truly live in. 

After his eyes finally adjust, he peers at the surroundings. Leo stares at the trash cans lining the alleyway’s walls. He notes the figure causing the tarp’s movements, covered by a familiar, orange ‘emergency blanket.’ In a haze, he drearily blinks at the fading graffiti and ignorant loiterers they pass by, noting the way most grumbled on this seemingly busy day.

…

Wait.

His heart leaps out of his chest as the oddity of his situation finally dawned on him. Instead of lying dead somewhere on concrete, he and Raph are currently being dragged inside a big ass tarp on the surface in the middle of the day. Leo’s mind races while he processes the facts that at most proposed more questions. Why were they out on the open surface? Did they get caught?

Was this a dream?

Caught in his craze Leo cranes his head up and stifles a scream– throat, head, and back neck pain. Yeah, no, definitely not a dream. Dang.

He tries again, to get a better view of their captor. From his viewpoint, they were rather well-covered– if not for the three-digit hand trembling and gripping at the fabric surface beneath him, he might have mistaken them for just another wandering hobo of NYC looking to dine on some fresh turtle soup.

But no, those green, callous hands accented with chipped nail polish belonged to one person, and one person only.

“D-Don,” Leo breathed out.

His words came out barely a whisper, but the softshell goes rigid nonetheless. 

At first, he received no response– Don stood completely unmoving, like a deer. A newborn deer more specifically, with how considerably he shook.

Donnie eventually replies, albeit hesitantly. Almost as if his brother doubted that Leo was really there. Then again, he wasn’t entirely sure either. “..Leo?” he croaked.

..Uncharacteristically hoarse.

“Y- eah, I- I’m h- ere.” Leo winces at every stutter, from both cringe and pure fiery pain.

“What?” Shit.

“Yeah, I-” He turns his head into his shoulder as he lets out a painful cough. His body shook at every release of breath, blood shooting out of his lungs. Fuck, what did that squid-looking asshole do to him?

Fighting the fog, he forces air into his lungs and directs his attention to Dee. He was completely turned around now, probably in concern. He didn’t touch him though, just.. hovered. Even for Don, that behavior felt weird. 

Leo attempts to speak once more but is cut off. “Don’t.. don’t speak. Your throat and vocal cords are injured, talking will make it worse.” Reluctantly, he obeys.

After a beat of silence, Dee turns away satisfied, and continues moving. His arm strains from Leo and Raph’s combined weight, but he makes no verbal complaints, outside of his heaving lungs. “About time you woke up. I scanned everyone for injuries— your head took some significant blows, so do try to not fall asleep.” Ah, a concussion then. That explains some things. “It’ll… be a bit before we get back, so.. keep yourself entertained, I suppose.”

Leo frowns. As dismissive as Don’s last statement was, his tone felt off. His voice quivered, and it lacked any of the tech genius’ typical bold-headed confidence. Instead, it sang in almost a forced monotone, straight notes creating walls to cover delicate cracks. 

In layman’s terms, he was hiding something.

Leon tilts his body a bit to get a glimpse at Dee. Hidden under the fur blanket was Mikey, somewhat comfortably settled on Dee’s back. To the average eye, one would think that the boy was asleep, but Leo could tell by the strange orange cracks and… almost dead look on his face that something was amiss.

“Wh-“ Leo stops himself mid-word. Right, injuries. Would do them no good to neglect them at the moment. How can he.. ah!

Leo shuffles around for his phone. While Don had set up intercoms after they first got their ninpo gear, they all kept their phones on their person. 

As he opens the bag, he finally realizes the encasing on his back. He hadn’t realized it amidst the pain and assumed the heavy weight came from the cover, but peering behind him, he finds Don’s battle shell properly attached to his back. He feels a little warm at the caring gesture, though his guilt and concern over Don walking unprotected quickly overcame that.

Leo retrieves his phone and dusts off the debris. There are a few cracks here and there along with a chipped corner, but he wasn’t all that concerned.

Don could fix it up easily, after all.

‘Mikey good?’ Don quiets as the text-to-speech voice echoes through the alleyway. A smoker glances their way, making Leo tense.

The smoker looks away. Leo ducks further into the fabric.

Don takes a second to respond. “I’m not sure. He collapsed right after closing the portal— same with Raph. His vitals seemed fine, there were little physical injuries, he’s just.. unresponsive.”

Leo predicts he knew more than he gave. For both Don and his sanity, he decides not to push it. ‘Raph?’

A sigh. “Between the Kraang situation and power overuse, his body’s in critical condition. I did what I could, and he should be able to last until we get a proper healer, but..”

Now aided with a bit of light, Leo examines their eldest again as Don trails off. Just like he stated, Raph was pretty battered, gruesome scarring taking up half of his torso and face. His eyes trail from Raph’s collarbone to his right shoulder, before stopping at his forearm. 

His breath catches at the sight of once vibrant greens fading into black.

He pauses. ‘Power overuse?’

“Yeah, from.. before, when he pulled you out of the portal. They.. everyone survived. Obviously. But Raph and Mikey seemed to overstep their limits, resulting in the.. arm.”

Leo gazes at the charred arm, accented by a purple tourniquet. Don’s mask, judging by the marked eyebrows peeking through the tightly wrapped fabric.

‘Savable?’

..Silence. Leo knew the answer to his question anyways.

He looks Donnie over. It was hard to tell how the man was dwelling at that moment, what with the only things he could see being his jaw and the scars that adorned it. ‘You?’

Don purses his lips. “Swell,” he says curtly.

Of all the times Dee would learn to shut up, of course, it had to be now.

‘Injuries?’

“Fine.”

‘Ur bleeding.’

“Must be your imagination.”

‘I dnot believe you.’

“Seriously, Nardo, everything’s fine.”

‘Liar.’

“...”

Don ignores Leo’s attempts to make him open up, pissing the boy off. ‘Don. Donnie. D. Nerd. Dork. DonTron. OtHeLlo vOn RyaN-’

Don grumbles. “Not even getting silenced can prevent you from being annoying.” Ha. One point for Leon.

‘C’mon, let it all out.’ Ignored. Huffing, Leo stretches his arm out to tug at Don’s so that he couldn’t ignore him.

He.. didn’t expect the given reaction.

As if shocked by electricity, Leo braces himself as Don drops the blanket and rips away his grip without warning, letting him and Raph flump onto the ground. Ugh- what the fuck??  

Leo rubs at his still aching body, frowning at the ground. He glances over to Don in confusion, and.. pales. 

The blanket had slipped off the top of Don’s head.

His face was mutilated. Not as bad as Raph’s maybe, but the lack of his signature purple mask and eyebrows lays view to the fresh, raw scarring surrounding his, eyes, neck, and jaw. A long survey takes notice of the blood and bruises decorating the top of his cheekbones to the tips of his fingers. It’s hard to say how much of that blood is his own.

And despite all that, Leo’s sole focus is on the long, ebbing waterworks that rolled along the precipice of his younger brother’s face, flowing from dead, grey eyes.

Silence overtakes the two. Don couldn’t move his shaking form, unable to take it all. Leo couldn’t move his hands, unable to think at all. Breathe at all.

…Last one’s important. Maybe.

He forcefully wrenches his eyes away, putting what little energy and sense of mind he had left into composing himself. It works a smidge. With little idea of what to say, he goes for his first thought, and types away.

‘You look awful.’

Don slows his breath and lets out a hollow laugh. “You’re telling me,” he says.

‘What happened?’

The standing turtle pauses, struggling to keep his breath steady. Leo was sure that he’d keep quiet. But, to his surprise, he doesn’t. “It’s obvious, isn’t it? Mikey and I were operating the Technodrome and got caught. Nothing more, nothing less.”

Leo doesn’t comment on the misdirect.

‘Your eyes?’ Leo can faintly remember Don saying something about being connected to the Kraang’s sight. His stomach churned thinking of the horrors he could’ve seen.

Tight jaw. “Unexpected consequence.”

Nausea surmounts even further.

He checks his phone. Low battery. His arms shake– they shouldn’t be. He wasn’t the one of concern here. Not him. ‘How long?’

Don sighs, feeling no longer near a panic attack. He rubs at his ever-flowing tears– Leo’s never seen him cry this much before– and crouches down to search for the cusp of the tarp. “Specifics, Leo.” He stumbles, careful to not drop Mikey too.

‘Since we started movin.’ Since he’s been walking alone.

“Mmph. Like, two hours? Three? Hard to keep track.”

Jesus.

Don finds the edge of the tarp and grabs it. Whatever momentum he had before was gone though, so he’s left frustrated as he struggles to pull the two. Leo has to readjust Raph to make sure he doesn’t fall. ‘D stop, let me get up first.’

He hisses and glares in Leo’s general direction. “Your left leg is fractured, don't you dare.”

Leon ignores him, obviously. Pushing off from his arms, he tries to balance himself on his right leg and stand up.

It goes as well as one might expect.

His body collapses on him, and his back hits the floor with a crash. Despite being clunky, he was thankful to have the battle shell cushion his fall.

Don’s startled once more– again, unexpected. “Leo! Fuck- are you okay??”

Leo wheezes and gives a thumbs-up before realizing that wasn’t gonna work. ‘Yea we good. Lol.’

Don shakes with a heavy sigh. “Ugh, you dumb dumb.”

Half-defeated, Leo shifts himself back onto the tarp and Raph. He glances back at Don, who was still turned his way. Though he seemed to recognize where Leo was, he made no move to go near him, almost fearful. ‘Yk, u should rest at the very least.’

They continue moving. “Once everyone’s properly laid in a hospital bed, thanks, sarcasm intended.” Eh, was worth a shot.

Glancing down at his phone he checks the battery. 18% – crap. He turns it off to preserve charge, settling into the quiet. 

Leo listens to the sounds of his breath, a way to distract himself from the pain. As a breeze of wind flows down the empty alleyway– it was weird to not hear the bustling crowds and traffic that came with the more populated streets of NYC–, he shivers and holds the tarp closer to his body. Even with the high sun, the winter cold was neverending; his singular aid is Don’s battle shell.

Dee must be freezing.

A heaviness dawns on Leo’s chest. 

What was he doing?

His fists tighten. Fuck. He thought he was doing the right thing, taking responsibility. That he actually could do something right for his team.

And yet here they were. Don blind. Mikey and Raph half-dead.

All because of him. To save him.

…He takes relief in Don’s inability to see his tears.

What a pitiful leader.

Leo closes his eyes. He would be lying if he said he wasn’t exhausted, both physically and mentally. He’s sure that his brothers could say the same. The rational side of his brain that retained medical training (and Don’s typically ignored warnings) knows to keep himself awake. But, of course, the lull of rest was enticing. The irrational side of his brain minded little over the possibility of death.

He couldn’t tell how much time had passed, but to him, it felt like a second.

“Wake up!”

The red-eared slider lets out a gurgled groan as Don shakes him back into consciousness. The shut-eye did nothing for his headache, and shit, did Dee slap him?? Annoyance fills his veins, and he pries open an eye to glare at the figure who felt keen on making his migraine explosive.

Oh. Don was still crying.

..Yeah. Maybe Leo deserved that.

“S-sor -y, ‘m aw- awake.” He gently taps at Don’s arms, causing the man to freeze before gradually relaxing again. Donatello keeps his grip for a few seconds, before not-so-gently shoving him back into the tarp.

“Asshole.”

Ow.

Leo takes a lazy look at his surroundings. They were back on the streets, Don having donned– haha, ‘Don’-ned, – on the blanket once more. He figures he must’ve been out for a good bit and resists the temptation to do it again. The buildings and concrete all blurred to him, nothing really piquing his attention– that is, except for the television screen shining through the shop window nearby.

‘Reporting live on CFN News, I, Carly Balmaceda, am flying high right above the once bustling, suddenly terrifying streets of Manhattan. This is no action film folks, we are in the middle of what seems to be an alien crisis! Please stay tuned for more info and some messaging from our military!’

Leo stares at the footage with wide eyes, surveying the intensive damage done. Entire buildings were turned into rubble. Cars and food stalls were either upturned or encompassed in Kraang goo. Their city, their home, was completely decimated to dust. Through the shaky camera, he peers down on the open streets of Manhattan. He looks desperately for life, but all he could spot from so far up were the debris and the vines and the limbs of a-

He forcefully closes his eyes shut and curls himself into Raph. Nausea blossomed from the bottom of his stomach to the back of his throat.

‘ As you can see down by Time Square, the military moves quickly throughout the city, searching for any injured or trapped inhabitants. We have no word on what exactly this abnormal pink substance could be, but anyone still within the borders of Manhattan is being ordered to vacate to the nearest shore, where rescue boats await transportation. Though most so far seem to have come off relatively unharmed, there have been… there have been reports of more than a few casualties.’

Shit.

Leo grips his fists. Everything in him wished that all of this was just some dream. Some trippy nightmare that teaches him a Scrooge-ified life lesson on the consequences of being a douche. But of course, the more that he wished, the more aware he became of how miserably real this was.

“What’s she saying?” Don murmurs. Ah- right, the noise of the helicopter does make the reporter’s words harder to decipher.

Once he's sure his insides could stay where they belonged, he takes a deep breath and scans Don. His face was covered again, so he couldn’t read his expression, but his head was faced towards the TV in steady consideration. From what he could see, Don seemed to have stopped crying. Leo’s.. thankful, that Don can’t see the carnage, at the very least.

Acquiring his phone from his side, he types a careful response. ‘They’ve confirmed that this isn’t a case of pink Donkey Kong,’ he chirps.

The heaviness in his chest lightens when an annoyed scowl peeked through the blanket cover.  

He imagines Donnie was preparing one of his Genius Tech patented ‘Leooooo’ groans. To his disappointment, it never came. Not as a new voice entered center stage.

“Excuse me, officer, I’m Agent Bishop, special agent. Have you seen any suspicious activity around here lately?”

Leo drops his phone. Words forgotten.

He spares a scared glance towards Don, who seemed to hear the man too. His body stood rigid, awaiting a fight.

Deep breaths.

Slowly, Leo turns his head, and to his relief, the man stands on the other side of the road, talking with a police officer leaning on his cop car. He’s holding a badge of sorts, shining in the high sun. Leo listens in close.

The officer sighs, nodding warily to the agent. “Depends on what you mean. Can’t say nothing outside of the ordinary, and if you’re looking into the attack on Manhattan, you’re lookin’ in the wrong place.” He wipes his hands on his pants and glances to the skies, mildly affected by the debris. “Ferries from Manhattan to the island have been completely shut down to vacate as many people as possible. Anyone that went in or out of the city would’ve ended up in Brooklyn or Jersey City.”

The agent pauses. “Let me rephrase then. Residents from this area have made reports of a foreign being landing somewhere here from the sky. We are unaware of what it could be, but special services are here to make sure that the damage and foreign entities are properly found and contained within Manhattan.”

Leo watches as the cop leers at the man. Turning away and waving a hand submissively, he says, “I didn’t see nothin’. Feel free to ask the locals here, but most people here were dead asleep during this conspiracy bullshit, including me. I’ve got nothing to say to you.”

‘Agent Bishop’ says nothing in turn, permitting the officer to take his leave. After he got into his car and drove off, Leo took the car’s loud engine as a distraction to discreetly send a message to Don. ‘Start walking.’ Don readjusted his grip on the tarp and Mikey and moved silently without complaint.

He looks back at the Agent with mild curiosity. He wasn’t entirely surprised that such an event caught the widespread attention of the government, but the dude now staring over at the television screens seemed interesting. He had a clean facade paired with an intimidating scowl, and his voice was cool, deep, and raspy.

Outside the given situation, it was certainly Donnie fanboy material.

Leo holds his breath as the man glances their way, remaining still. He supposes in the agent’s eyes they’d fall under suspicion rather easily with how poorly disguised they were, even by their own standards. Leo quietly appeals for the best-case scenario, in which the man mistakes them for some kooky homeless dude and minds his business.

Agent Bishop stares at the four for an uncomfortably long period of time– or maybe the staring made time feel longer? Their already slow pace felt more reminiscent of a snail.

He should have been more careful. In putting all his attention on the agent, Leonardo didn’t notice the way Raph’s lungs staggered from their standard pace, or the way his body scrunched in on itself. He didn’t notice until it was too late when his brother in red lets out a strong, loud, wheezing cough.

Don freezes. Instantly, Leo reaches to muffle Raphael’s coughs, the movement making the tarp skew open. He whirls his head back towards the agent in panic and feels his heart drop seeing the man looking at them.

Right at him.

Three seconds. The man takes a step forward, his surprise not lasting long. His polished, black boots make a satisfying click on the concrete.

Two seconds. Donnie tilts his head towards Leo as if waiting for instructions. Leo could see his eyes this time– they were filled with fear, distraught, and…

Trust.

One second. So little time to react, to think, to speak. If this man’s truly legit, then they can’t get caught. They couldn’t get caught, not when there are people waiting for them.

April and Dad are waiting for them.

Zero. Don’t think, just act .

In three seconds, Leo swiftly grabs Raph’s sai– sorry not sorry– and bursts from the tarp, sending the weapon straight at the agent. He turns back to Don and yells with pure vindication,

“Run!”

- - -

‘Right-’ Turning right .

‘Sharp left-’ Sharp turn left.

‘Pole on right-‘ Avoid the pole .

Don couldn’t count how many orders Leo blasted at him through his modified phone, but he followed them without question— not that he had any room to object anyways. His heart palpitated out of his plastron in near sync with his breath, and his legs threatened to give out every step. He had not a single clue as to how he was managing to run at his current speed, but he was sure that if he uttered even a single word, he’d collapse on the spot.

His lack of sight didn’t make the situation any better. All he could focus on was the sounds, and there were a lot of them. Loud footsteps. The grating tarp dragging along the concrete. Monotone text-to-speech. 

The pursuer’s yells.

They couldn’t get caught, not now. He needed to get them home. He had to.

The man stayed on their trail for a long while, and Don predicted that he’d eventually catch up. But to his surprise, it didn’t. After who knows how long, the pair of footsteps behind them gradually got farther and farther, until it just… disappeared completely. Leo seemed to have noticed too, as he tells Don to slow down, save what energy he has left. This time Donnie does it relatively hesitantly, not wanting to lose the momentum he had created, but nonetheless was relieved.

Leo speaks up again. ‘U alright buddy?’

After a pause, Don opens his mouth to speak. He makes an attempt to say “Just dandy”— the only thing that comes out of his mouth is pained groans. Leo snorts softly.

‘We need to be careful, that agent can’t be far off.’

He nodded, although he could barely register his words. Don weakly readjusts his grip on Mikey and registers the loss of his cover; he’ll have to apologize to Mikey later. His eyes drooped, begging for them to take a rest. But he couldn’t, he knew he couldn’t. It doesn’t matter what it takes, he needed to get them home. 

He needed to, he had to.

He…

He needed..

“D-DONN- I E!!”

He didn’t hear the gunshot-

-can’t let it hit-

-save Mikey-

Don screams as metal hits flesh.

- - -

It took a few seconds for Leo to realize that the shot was far from fatal. DonTron had moved just in time, the bullet hitting his calf’s muscle. Even when he collapsed in pain, his cries proved his life, shaking Leo’s bones farther than the gunshot did. 

And yet, those few seconds of disbelief shattered what little composure he had left.

Without thinking he grabs Raph’s second sai and leaped out of the tarp, desperate to protect his brother. He could hear his bones crack from underneath him, and he barely made it to his side before falling, but it didn’t matter- he had to save him.

“Save your energy, alien,” the agent stated, strolling out of the shadows towards the four with a gun in hand. Leo immediately moves ready to stab the sai wherever he could reach, any thoughts of playing ‘faceman’ thrown out the window, but stops himself when the man brazenly points the gun straight at Donnie’s head. “That is, unless, you’re fine with losing your brethren.” Donnie recoils as the pistol stabs him in the forehead, making the sightless boy fully aware of the current situation. Leo grips his fists in helpless anger.

The red-eared slider forced ragged breaths through his teeth– in and out . He chokes on the blood that pooled in the back of his throat but he didn’t care. He couldn’t care. All he could focus on was his twin brother, one trigger away from death.

‘Agent Bishop’ looks the four of them up and down, taking in their appearances. Leo attempts to read his face but fails, the man’s eyes covered by a pair of toned glasses. Stone-faced, one may say. 

The agent takes his sweet time before speaking once more. “What.. are you?” he asks. It reads more as an order rather than a question.

Step a little closer and find out. Leo bites down his thoughts and settles with a glare. “N-none of yo-our b-b-business.”

He inclines his head. Leo can’t help but stare while the man near plays with the trigger. “I don’t believe you decide that here.”

Don speaks up in an effort to alleviate the burden of speaker from Leo, at least for a little bit. “We’re mutants— anthropomorphic turtles, more specifically. It’s a long, overly convoluted story having to do with a prophecy, movie star, and foreign radioactive substances, but basically-“

“W-We’re not your e-enemies,” Leo cuts off. No need to give the man more info than necessary.

‘Agent Bishop’ lifts a cocky eyebrow– it doesn’t break his pressuring gaze. “Is that so?” Similar to Donnie the agent had a base monotone, albeit more robotic. Even so, Leo could sense the condescension, the disbelief. It was the voice of a man who’d heard his phrase a million times before.

Dangerous, but if he can play this right, he can use it to his advantage.

Leonardo’s caught unaware as Bishop in quick motion lands a hard kick to his face. Pain spreads like fireworks from his nose onwards; Leo imagines that if he hadn’t already been beaten to death by Kraang Prime, it would have knocked him unconscious by the shock alone. Don yells hearing the impact and tries to move towards him, only to be bashed in the head with the hilt of the pistol. Leo holds his bleeding nose and redirects his stubborn glare back to the agent– the man still held the gun to Don’s head, as if he had never moved at all. “R-rude,” he coughs out, in a forcefully light tone. 

He thinks the man a sadist, reveling in the power play.

Before the agent could respond, Leo continues, hoping to stall for time. “You k-k-know, most people we f-fight don’t im-mediately pull out their most l-lethal weapon.” Leo wipes the blood flowing from his nose with his palm, the red soaking into his torn gear. “W-Whatever happened to h-hero villain b-banter?”

‘Agent Bishop’ stares down the turtle. Between the dude’s frigid stature and black-and-white suit, he was nothing short of terrifying– like something straight out of Men In Black. He pauses before pulling out a response. “Answer this, ‘mutant.’ Who is the hero in this situation? Who is the villain?”

…Huh?

“Answer correctly, and I won’t shoot.” The agent trails off rather astutely, leaving Leonardo caught unaware for a second time. What kind of questions was that?? It had to be some sort of psychological tactic, though he couldn’t imagine why– unless….

“..If I answer i-incor-rectly?” he stutters out.

‘Bishop’ stares at him for approximately three seconds. Three seconds before turning. One second to aim. Half of one to pull the trigger.

Bang.

Leonardo gasps as the soundwave stabs his auditory senses. He couldn’t hear his screams through the ringing this time– Leo whips his head in horror over to Don who’s curled up on the ground alongside Mikey and Raph and there’s blood everywhere, he’s dead they’re all dead and it’s all because of–

Don yelps, hands covering his ears. The gun fired in between the two turtles, grazing Don’s cheek and almost hitting Raph from behind them. Leo breathes– they were… They were alive. Still alive.

Shakily, Leo turns back to the human. He stares back with that same damn monotone. Agent Bishop pauses one more time and reloads the gun, before answering with three simple words:

“I won’t miss.”

.. Fuck.

Leo was.. terrified. His bloody throat suddenly felt dry as he lost his ability to speak– not because of his wounds but fear. After one life-threatening event, they get thrown into another, and he is helpless in all of it. His heart pumped erratically. The agent merely tilts his head.

Agent Bishop goads the young turtle. Leonardo’s arms shake in contrast to the man’s still figure. “ Answer. ” 

He takes a second to breathe . No need to be concerned, the answer was easy. Don’t overthink it. Even if he was ‘wrong,’ who’s to say this isn’t a bluff? Whenever the Plutonians captured Atomic Lad, they always pulled these bluffs, only to get their ass beat by Jupiter Jim and Red Fox, like in Seven Galaxies -

He peers at his brothers.

Don holds his shaking body, old and fresh scars adorning his softshell. Raph’s arm rests limply in a charred black. Mikey lies lifeless.

..This wasn’t a movie.

He can’t afford to be wrong.

Leo opens his mouth. 

But a familiar voice echoes down the street.

“MAD DOGSSSS!!!!”

Leo blanks.

What.

Debris flies everywhere as a van crashes through a fence and skids through the concrete quite a few blocks away. It’s being chased by a comedically large group of cop cars, making enough noise to be heard for miles. Maniacal laughter that Leo definitely recognizes made itself known in the chaos. Agent Bishop in his surprise turns towards the van speeding down the street– Leo doesn’t waste his chance.

He grabs the sai once more and propels himself off the ground with all he has. The Bishop takes notice but is too late; using his momentum, Leo slashes the man across his face, grazing his left cheek. Agent Bishop lets out a surprised grunt, though he makes no move to cradle his face. Even so, he’s given little time to react– Leo throws himself at the man, going straight for the gun.

Leonardo tries to rip it out of his hands, but Bishop's grip stayed firm. They tussle back and forth, at least until the agent finds his senses and overpowers him. Before he shoves him off though, Leo throws his head back, landing one last hit on his nose. Abandoning ship, he distances himself and faces the agent but stops. 

His sunglasses crack as they hit the ground.  Leo doesn’t notice as he finally gets a look at the eyes that stared at him all this time. For a split second, Leo could feel his heart skip a beat.

His red, piercing glare felt one step too close to the Kraang.

“Wrong answer.” The man points his gun toward Leo.

Snapping out of his daze, Leo times him just right. “Donnie, now!” he shouts, jumping a few steps back.

As he expected, Donnie knew exactly what to do. Using his mystic powers Donnie constructs a wide barrier between Leo and the agent from underneath. It slams into Bishop’s arm just as he pulls the trigger, and Leo ducks into his shell. The bullet rips through the tails of his mask.

Agent Bishop curses and shoots at the barrier, cracking it bit by bit. Leo in swift motions covers Don, his back directed towards the agent. With a half-joking, half-scared smile, he asks, “H-Hey Dee, you w-wouldn’t happen to know if y-you’re battle s-shell is bulletproof?”

“I cannot deny or confirm.”

“Cool, h-hold tight then.” Readjusting his grip on Raph’s sai, Leo raises it high and bashes the sides down onto the concrete, breaking off the side prongs until it resembles a single blade. Concentrating on his will and hope, he imbues all his ninpo into the weapon and prays this half-assed plan works. It shines a bright blue and transforms into something of his own.

Bang. Don’s barrier shatters and dissipates. Leo twirls the kunai easily in his hand now and prepares to make a portal. While he may not have enough energy or focus to portal them back home, he does have enough energy for something smaller: as the agent reloads and moves to pull the trigger, Leo throws the kunai straight at him.

Agent Bishop dodges the small blade with ease. He clicks his teeth. “Weak distraction.”

Leo smirks. Works every time. “T-That wasn’t a dis-distraction.”

The kunai cuts through the air, leaving behind a big, blue portal in its midst. Within it a loud array of sounds bustle– more importantly, the loud engine of a van.

“Incoming!!!”

The vehicle bursts through the mystic blue, plowing straight through the unsuspecting Agent and drifting before coming to a halt at Leo’s feet. Agent Bishop, he watches unapologetically, goes flying and crashes into a dumpster. Leo gazes at the still figure while acknowledging the girl currently perched on the passenger’s seat. “S-So, does that make t-two IOUs for s-saving our lives?”

Casey Jones grins, her arm hooked around the car’s open window. “Yyep.”

Don sags in relief in his arms.

Jones jumps out of the van to throw Raph and Mikey into the back, and Leo turns to the disheveled Foot Lieutenant in the driver’s seat. The man gapes at the four teens in shock. “Wow, what happened to you guys?”

Leonardo stares. “Kraang.” Casey attempts to take Don from Leo to help him into the van, but the latter reacted violently to the touch. The twins help each other instead. Leo looks over the Foot Lieutenant in turn, who to his more valid surprise, seems just as scarred as them. He cocks an eyebrow. “Y-You?”

Foot Lieutenant sighs and gazes forward. “Karma.” Foot Brute waves a hand from the back of the van and chimes in too. “And Kraang!”

Casey pointedly glares at the two while shutting the van door. “Damn right.” They wince. Leo wasn’t entirely sure what had transpired between them during the span of the invasion, but he couldn’t bring himself to feel any sympathy. 

And just like that, they drove off and made their way back to Manhattan. Casey goes on a tirade about fighting the Kraang as an (honorary) Hamato clan member when she saw Raph’s mystic form plummeting towards Staten and ran to ‘get a piece of the action.’ Leo listens passively as he carefully bandages Don’s calf. The teen in question is mostly silent, his verbal existence proven only by the sound of his labored breaths. After a few minutes, however, his brother finally spoke up— no longer surrounded by harsh UV lights, cold winds, and the fear of death, Leo could clearly hear the concealed fragility in his voice.

“Are we.. going home?” Don asks.

Casey stops speaking, and the van goes quiet. The moving car whistles in a low hum. A lump forms in Leo’s throat, settling nicely with the pain. Is there even a home left? He thinks for a second before slowly moving his hand over to Donnie’s. Expectedly, the boy quivers at the touch, but gradually, he relaxes his body, acknowledging its familiarity. With a gentle thumb, he rubs Don’s palm and grips it firmly. It’s a subtle gesture, but it speaks the words he cannot.

Yeah. He was going home.

Don takes a breath and grips Leo’s hand back.

All of them.

Chapter Text

“Fuuck this city man,” April groans. She was. So done.

After a night of fighting off an alien invasion, she’d been running all over the city, with every dragging step feeling smaller than the last. She regrets losing her bike and not studying harder for her permit test. Oh well– the girl stops in front of the abandoned Bro’s Pizza.

She takes a deep breath, leaning on the door’s handle. You’ve got this, O’Neil. She steps inside.

The once bustling pizzeria was now in shambles. Glass crinkles under April’s feet as she passes shattered windows and broken furniture. Her attention though was not on the dusted signs or scattered cutlery but on the table in the far right corner– dark, dusty, and isolated from the rest of the restaurant. The perfect sitting spot for their ragtag family.

Speaking of family.

April’s heart drops seeing the look on her friend’s face. His face sags with tired eyes. His body is worn and rigid. His hands lay stiff on his lap as he stared holes into the skewed food table. If not for the man’s heaving chest, she could have mistaken him for a statue.

It certainly isn’t a look the teen’s used to. Sure, Splints had his moments of depression— as it is with all middle-aged men. But he always pulled himself together, with that kick-bang energy and shout of “Hot Soup!”

…It’s been hours. That man was nowhere to be seen.

All that remained was a grieving father.

April sits across Splinter. “Hey Splints, I’m back,” she says with a soft tone. She waves a hand in front of him. He gives no response.

Undeterred, April shuffles within her bag and pulls out a box of pound cake. “I got this from the store nearby. It’s a little pounded, but it wasn’t near any Kra– pink gunk... So, uh. Yeah, should be fine.” She chuckles nervously– the lack of response this time is probably a good thing.

She breaks a piece off for herself before sliding it over to Splinter. She hadn’t eaten anything in almost half a day, unless you count the popcorn from Casey’s interrogation, so the stale sweet was wholly welcomed. “There was no one at the counter, obvi, so I left a twenty. They’ll prolly need it since uh. The whole store was destroyed.” Funnily enough, the cashier counter was the only thing that wasn’t decimated.

Splinter doesn’t touch the box; he doesn’t even acknowledge it. He just keeps staring into nothing. It wasn’t until April had eaten half of the contents– a coping mechanism, mind you– that Splints spoke up. “You didn’t find them,” he states.

April stills. Her stomach churns– the food in her stomach no longer sat right. She forcefully swallows and drops the piece in her hand, wiping off the crumbs with her leggings. “I..” Her voice stutters. Come on, April. “I haven’t found any trace of their whereabouts, no. Not yet.”

The man lets out a heaving sigh, closing his eyes. April continues, “Buuut I did find a working cell tower! I couldn’t get through to the boys, but I contacted Drax- Apparently, things got hectic in the hidden city, but the citizens were able to evacuate into the Battle Nexus. I caught him up in the whole shebang; he said because of their ‘genetic modification’ or whatever, they can recover and last on their own for a long time. They’ll totes be fine, so– cheer up!”

Splinter twitches. His previously numb expression turns dark as he shifts to move. “I’m going out to look.”

“No!” April jumps up in a flash, moving to block the old man. “You can’t!”

He glares at her. “Do not tell me what I can and can’t do. I am f- rrgh!”

Splinter groans as pain spearheads from his right calf. April quickly holds him up by the shoulders, providing support to the man as he heaved and shook. As cheeky as she wanted to be, April settled with a glare back. “I sure as hell can, Mr. Limpy.”

The rat goes to angrily retort. Faced with April's patented intimidation look, though, he backs down, sitting back on the rugged booth seat. A variety of emotions flash through his face before settling with regret. “I’m sorry, I am not in the right head at the moment.”

April’s gaze immediately softens. “You should head back home, Splints. It’s way too cold out here.”

Splinter shakes his head adamantly. This wasn’t a point to be debated: “I am not returning without my sons .”

She flinches. Guilt fills her gut as her brother’s names invade her mind.

They hadn’t heard from Donnie and them since the explosion of the Technodrome. At first, she accepted their silence as grief, but now it’s well into the afternoon, with no people or turtle mutants to be seen. It’s like they were completely off the grid.

She crouches next to Splinter with a sigh, just as defeated as him. He deserved to be in the know anyway. “I checked all the bridges connected to Brooklyn– they were all either shut down or swarmed with military. Same with the seaports.”

“So you mean..?”

“If they’re out there-”

His face hardens. “They are.”

“If they’re outside Manhattan, we got no way of reaching them.”

Splints goes quiet, letting the two sit and process. April’s hand presses onto the ground. An increasingly red rash spots the back of her palm, along with her forearm and face. While the herbicide was great at taking out the Kraang, being in the splash zone could’ve nearly taken her out too. She was fortunate to have survived with only rashes, but man they’re itchy as hell.

“Stop that,” Splinter chides as she scratches at her skin. He takes her hands with gentle motions and separates them, stopping her in her tracks. “All that scratching will make it worse.”

Her surprise dies fast as she puts on a pout. “I can do what I want, thank you much.”

“Don’t be a child, missy.”

“Uhh ok, Mom.” She sticks out her tongue playfully, holding in her laugh.

He seems taken aback before a low chuckle echoes through his husky cords. Splints shakes his head with a weak smile. “I’m sure Carol would agree with me here,” he retorts.

April’s mood fades as quickly as it came.

She looks down at her lap, fidgeting with the frays of her sleeves. A subtle stitch could be found on her left sleeve, patched up from an encounter with the Foot. It took her forever to convince Mom that no she wasn’t mugged, yes she really did crash into a fence again, but she had it fixed up by the next morning. “Yeah… she would.”

Splinter pauses. “.. Have you heard anything from your parents?” he asked.

April freezes. Shit– focus, O’Neil. “Pssh whatt? I dunno, I’m sure they’re fine. Don’t worry about them.”

He’s unimpressed at her performance. “You need to work on your lying skills, yellow one.” Damn.

April crosses her arms, clutching onto the jacket’s leather. “Dad uh. Tried calling me. Earlier on, back in the subways. I couldn’t answer of course, but he left a voicemail. Said to meet up at the shore by Jersey. I couldn’t find him.”

“I’m sorry..” Splinter lays a hand on her shoulder. April shrugs him off.

“Yeah, whatever, it’s fine. Dad’s capable and always trusted me to be on my own, so I’m sure he just left while he could.”

“..But?”

“He..” Her voice choked. Why can’t she pull herself together? She needs to calm down. 

Even so, the burning in her chest had spread to her throat, leaving her mute. She pulls out her phone and goes to play the end of the voicemail instead.

‘..and if you can, please call your mom- - she was at Metro Tower when everything hit with your uncle Augie, and I can’t reach either of them. Stay safe baby, I’ll see you soon.’

Click.

She ducks her head into her chest.

Splinter shuffles from his spot at the booth onto the floor, capturing the teen in a full embrace. April tenses at the motion, but doesn’t shove him away. She sits quietly as Splints cries for her.

She wonders if losing a mom hurts as much as losing a son.

Leo’s sacrifice plays on repeat, dancing in tune to the loud melody of the voicemail. From the opening of the portal to her last words to Donnie, her mind plagues itself with what-ifs and regrets, didn’ts and should-haves. She holds Splinter close.

After a long period of silence, Splinter moves away, his hands still resting on her shoulders. “Are you okay?” he asks in a soft tone.

She nearly scoffs. “I should be asking you that, old man.”

He shakes his head and gently brushes April’s cheek with his thumb. Her heart flutters– memories of sick nights and Mom’s gentle lullabies danced. “Do not shoulder that pain on your own. Do not be like me.”

She pulls away from Splinter’s hand, leaning back onto the wall. “I’m fine! Really. I trust they’re alright,” she lies. For who, she doesn’t know. “Plus, y’know I’m not much of a crier. I’ll leave the tears to you, okay?”

He didn’t seem satisfied with that answer, but he nods anyway. “Alright. Just know I am always here if you need someone to listen.”

“..Yeah. Thanks.”

“April! Master Splinter!” Casey’s voice cuts the air. He leaps through the restaurant's broken windows, stopping at the pair’s feet.

The young man looms over them in a strong stance. Despite being just as wounded as her, bruises and blood visible where cloth doesn’t cover, he didn’t seem exhausted, at best winded. Then again, this whole situation was what he was raised in, so he’s probably used to it.

Casey reports. “The military’s surrounded the borough, both on the East and West Coast. Most of them are currently swarming Time Square and Metro Tower, but some are driving around the streets in heavy artillery.”

April blinks in disbelief. She figured there’d be a big response to the invasion, but dang. “Wow.. What are they doing now?”

“Mostly looking for any strays stuck in the debris. I saw a few groups trying to remove the Kraang’s vines, with no success.” Digging into his bag, he acquires two face masks and tosses them over to April and Splinter. “Master Donatello once told me that it wasn’t until six years into the apocalypse that they figured out a way to properly dispose of them.”

April’s curiosity peaks a bit at the mention of Don’s future self. “How fun. But what’s the masks for?”

He shrugs nonchalantly, securing the mask onto his face, but replies nonetheless. “Though the Kraang were always brutal, it was always the vines that first started killing. Too many people went to burn or slash it down without proper equipment, and the air became poisoned with their noxious fumes and particles. Master Donatello and his colleagues eventually created a vaccine, but by then over half of the world’s population had already died, the particles growing and eating them slowly from the inside out.”

Oh. She puts the mask on. Maybe a second one would be better.

Casey turns over to Splints, kneeling in a formal fashion. “Master Splinter, I retrieved a first-aid kit and ice pack to treat your leg.” He holds out a scuffed roll of bandages, as if offering to treat it for him. Splinter just takes the items and leaves them at his side.

He nods uncomfortably. To April’s amusement, he was very obviously not used to the polite formality. “Any word from my sons?” 

Once more, the mood of the restaurant goes dim.

Future Boy looks down, clutching his fists. He pauses before speaking. “No. I’ve been on the lookout for any signs or signatures, but all I found were these.” From his cloak, he drops a few worn weapons.

Half a nunchuck, a shattered bo staff, and a katana, handle carefully wrapped in blue.

April could only watch as Splinter shook, taking the remains. 

Casey abruptly stands up to leave. “Wh- Where are you going?” April sputters.

“Out to keep searching.” For a second, April thinks he’s going to elaborate. “Ok bye.” He turns and marches straight for the closest broken window. She groans and walks off after him, giving Splints some more time alone.

The moment they exit the facility, April grabs Casey’s shoulder and spins him around. “Hold it, Future Boy. You just got here— I dunno squat about what you do in your time, but here, family sticks together.” She squeezes his shoulders. “We can’t afford to lose anyone else,” she says under her breath.

Casey frowns. “..You don’t think they’re gonna come back, do you.”

“What?” April didn’t expect that question. She reels back.

“‘To lose,’ you said. You think Leo’s dead,-“

“Stop that-“

“- and that Master Michelangelo, Donatello, and Raphael won’t make it back.”

Her heart beats out of her chest at the sound of her brothers’ names. She tried avoiding those thoughts, and she did want to believe that they’d come back, but.. “Don’t put words into my mouth. I’m only.. preparing myself for the worst-case scenario.”

She doesn’t think she could handle the heartbreak otherwise.

Casey looks down at his hands. April looks up at the sky. Debris still intoxicated the air with a suffocating smog, and she could barely feel the sun– only the cold winter winds. Silence dawns between the two, the two waiting for the other to break it. Casey does, thankfully. 

“Master Leonardo and Michelangelo both died to get me here.” Ah. Out of everything she predicted the boy to say, it certainly wasn’t that. April looks over to the boy. Though he tried to conceal his emotions, the pain and unprocessed grief showed in the contortions of his face. “Master Raphael and Donatello too, though I can’t remember their deaths. I wouldn’t even be here if Master Raphael didn’t save me all those years ago.

“You also died, too. In the final battle. Master Leonardo tried to save you and the rest of the platoon, but you saved him instead. He was too late.” Casey pauses for a moment as if waiting for April to process the information. For that she was grateful. She quivers. April wonders if their deaths were swift, or... Worse. She thinks of all the people she’s known in her lifetime, from her parents, to the kitten that lives near the deli between Park and Lexington Avenue, to god fucking Dale . She wonders what fate had for them, and if theirs were any better than hers. She hopes she’ll never have to know.

Casey continues. “Earlier, I told Leo that he was nothing like Master Leonardo. Honestly though? The similarities are uncanny. For all of you. I know you’re all technically the same person, and yeah everyone’s different from the time gap, but.. Sometimes, there are things you all do that feel so like them that– that it..”

“..hurts?” she guesses. Jones finally turns back to April, the two looking at each other eye-to-eye. Tears prick in his eyes as he sees... Something. He nods. 

“Yeah. It hurts.” But he smiles. The yellow of his teeth peeks out through his lips, shining as bright as his eyes. It’s a pained smile, but a genuine one. A hopeful one. “But it means they still exist. Through them. Through you. And.. while I don’t know you guys enough yet, I knew them, and I know that they always found a way. We just need a little faith, you know?”

April looks at Casey, and Casey looks back. Truthfully, despite defeating the Kraang, everything was honest-to-god awful right now. But she smiles back and the younger teen. “You sure you weren’t the one teaching Leo?” she teases.

His eyebrows furrowed in confusion before realizing she was joking. He blushes, letting out a shy laugh. It catches her off-guard, the chimes of his voice holding a clarity, unlike its natural ruggedness. The moment is brief, and seeing the tired look on his face soften, April hopes to hear it more often in the coming future. He replies, “I’m just repeating what he’s said a million times before.” Sadness shined in his eyes once more. “He always knew.”

April sits on those words. Silence dawns on them again, but. It was.. Alright, weirdly enough. They stand together in the aftermath. From the old world to a new.

Her pocket buzzes. April snaps out of her daze and grasps for her phone, searching for her mother’s name. Her heart jumps at the letter ‘c’ but sinks at the ‘as’ that followed. “It’s Casey.”

“Huh?” Oh, right. She always referred to her singular human friend as Cass in her head, and so the matching names never dawned on her. 

“Cassandra, a friend of mine,” she says. “Met her when she fought for the Foot– now we’re besties.” What a time.

Boy Casey’s eyes widen. “Cassandra? Cassandra Jones?”

“Woah, uh. Yeah, she’s a Jones.” April wonders.. “Are you two related, or-” The phone buzzes again– April curses. “Shit, hold on– Casey?”

The noise of static and a moving vehicle blares from the phone loudly; Casey, of course, was louder. “Partner O’Neil!”

“Just call me April-”

“I and company have acquired a large vehicle for use and passed E. 34th Street approximately 2.3 minutes ago! Give your coordinates now! ..Please!” 

April holds the phone away from her ear, waiting for her to stop yelling. She loved her to death, but goddamn she could scream. “Nice to hear from you too. We at Tony’s Pizza, but watch out– there’s military all over the place.” She looks over to Casey– Casey #2?- for verification, but he was stock still. 

“Affirmative! There was a whole crowd of them crossing the bridge. Swarmed like bugs, can confirm we barely passed through!”

April still stares at the weird-acting Casey and gestures the phone towards him, who breaks his freeze to shake his head frantically. That’s a no probably. Unless that means something else in the future…

Wait, the bridge? “How’d you sneak past the barrier and feds?”

“Mad Dog member Casey Jones bends to no law enforcement!”

Ah. “Did they see your face?”

“..None that’ll remember?”

“Metal.”

“Great! We’re just around the corner– see you in a few, Partner O’Neil!”

April raises an eyebrow, curious to her company. “Who’s we-?” The phone clicks. Well, she’ll find out soon enough.

She turns her attention back to Future Boy. April pretends to not notice the way his gripped fists shook as he stared off at the empty streets. “Cass is on her way with a van. Is that.. Fine with you?” 

“...That was my mom,” he confesses, his voice tired and solemn. Ah. April imagined it was something like that. Though part of her felt despair at the implications, another part of her was relieved she’d lived long enough at least to have a child.

“Well.. You can see her again now, yeah? Hurray! We stopped the apocalypse.”

He shakes his head. He says, “She won’t know– she can’t know.”

“About.. You?”

He nods.

“Why?”

“I lost my mom a long time ago… It’d only make things difficult.”

A sadness panged her chest– a sadness for a son grieving his mom. Her chest burned a little hotter. But even so.. “Alright. I don’t agree with you, but I’ll help you out.”

He looks over at her with a sad but grateful look. If she could give this hurt boy any console, she was willing. Securing his things, he walks across the street and takes out his grappling hook. “See you soon, Commander.”

She waves goodbye and says farewell in turn. “ Heads up!”

That was not her voice?

A van barrels straight through Future Boy.

“Casey!!!” she yells.

April rushes to his side and cradles his head. The boy stares straight ahead– to her surprise, he seemed relatively unharmed, albeit showing signs of dizziness and a possible concussion. The sound of a door opening and a string of curses could be heard from her side. “Shit- ”

She sighs heavily and glares to her right. She knew that voice well. “Casey.”

Cassandra Jones emerges from the van’s metal doors. She was disheveled from top to bottom, though April wasn’t too concerned; she doubts any of the injuries Casey had were from fights she didn’t start. She grins unashamedly, bouncing with never-ending energy. “Man, people should watch where they’re walking. Someone could really die, y’know?”

“Remind me to never lend you my bike.” 

April carefully helps Future Jones back onto his feet, slinging his arm around her shoulders. For once the younger teen looked fully vulnerable, his head drooping in hypnotic rhythm. Casey, taking a look at the boy she’d just hit, tilts her head in confusion. “Who’s this kid?”

April freezes. Shit. “Uhh….. Casss.sie. Jone?” God damnit.

“..Cassie Jone.” 

“...Yes…?”

Casey stares at her with a blank expression. She sighs before laying a hand on her shoulder. She smiles with pity. “You didn’t have to find a look-a-like, Partner. You can always call!”

What.

“M~om..?”

“Ha! Heard that O’Neil? They just called you mom.”

April ignores her empty-headed friend as the door to the van’s driver seat slams open and close. The vehicle’s skewed in a way that she couldn’t see the poor fool Casey wheel-jacked, but she could sure hear him. His coarse voice grumbled the typical complaints of an older man, checking the car’s front. “Damnit, this is a rental..” Yikes.

Was he Casey’s dad? April knew pretty much nothing about Casey’s parents, so she was a bit curious. Still, though, the more she listened, the more she realized the voice sounded a little.. familiar...

“..Meh. I’ll go ahead and put it on the Clan’s tab,” the Foot Lieutenant said, stepping straight into April’s view.

April can feel her jaw slacken in shock. She had assumed (and hoped) the Foot Clan had gotten wiped out in the carnage– it was the least they deserved. And yet, here they were: standing and alive.

The heat bursts out like a flooding dam.

‘Cassie’ collapses back onto the ground the moment April paces forward. She doesn’t notice. Casey’s eyes widen in surprise at her sudden movements. “O’Neil? What are you..” She pales and realizes April’s intent once her eyes locked on the equipped, glowing bat. “O’Neil–  April , wait!”

SMASH!

Casey was only mid-sentence when April takes her first swing. The Lieutenant, not expecting the attack, only barely dodges it. The bat slams down on the van’s hood– the hard steel bends like rubber. He can only sputter and prepare for the next swing as the car’s alarm rang out in loud cacophony. “W-what the hell?!” She raises the bat again.

BAM!

The bat does not hit steel this time, but muscle. April growls at the girl standing in front of her. Casey’s hands blocked and held her bat firmly. “Get out of my way Jones,” April threatens. 

The Lieutenant’s partner-in–crime could be seen watching from the van’s windows, but Casey signals him to stay put. “Y’know I’m not doing that.”

“Then I’ll make you.” Of course, she didn’t have the heart to mean that, even as she staggered back to swing once more. But her heart could not stop the burning heat consuming her entire body, screaming with the strength of countless lost souls. All her conscience hath no power against the fury for those loved and now wronged.

The Foot Lieutenant grunts in annoyance. “Hey, what’s your deal?” Casey’s head flips around a full 180 degrees, piercing the man down with a glare.

“Deal? What’s my deal??” April’s fist grips her worn bat, the splinters digging further into her dark, rash-filled palms. Her other hand waves around, pointing towards the demolished street. “My bad , is this not your doing? Was the entire destruction of Manhattan not exactly what you wanted in your messed up little plan?”

He ducks his head– he had the gall to feel guilty. “Well, ah. Not exactly that…” Oh yeah, like world domination ain’t any better.

“Then what was it, huh? Tell me, in full detail. Tell me about what you wanted so bad that made you decide to release the Kraang! ”

Casey’s eyes flicker wide. She turns over to the Lieutenant. “Wait– you guys released the aliens of prophecy?” Oh! They never told Cass the entire story, huh? Even better!

“It was always meant to happen!” he argues. “Their release was inevitable, we just.. Fastened the process a little.”

The two girls stare at him. “...Please for the love of God let me whoop his ass,” April pleads.

“I already did, but maybe they need another to learn their lesson.”

He pales. Backing away, he glances over to the van. “B-Brute! Help me!!” But the Foot Brute didn’t respond– rather, he was avidly looking away from the scene, whistling and sweating. He didn’t seem keen on fighting the fire anytime soon. 

April raises her bat again. This time, Casey doesn’t stop her. True besties. The man raises his hands in surrender, knowing this was a battle he couldn’t win. Even so, he kept yapping, as it was all he could do. “Come on, uh, girl! Think about your turtle friends– they wouldn't want this, especially the small one!”

“Don’t talk like you know them. One, if they were here, they’d be cheering me on. Two, Mikey could AND would beat you into another dimension without hesitation. And three..” Her hands shake at the memories of her brothers, stained reddish-pink and grey. “It wouldn’t matter anymore. They’re gone.”

…

…

…

The air seemed to shift, but not in the way April had expected.

The Lieutenant blinks. “What are you talking about?”

“...What do you think I meant. Because of you, they got their asses beat, and now they’ve all vanished off to who knows where!”

Casey frowns– it’s the same frown as her son’s. “..I think I’m not the only one missing part of the story here, partner.”

April’s heart starts to race. What were they talking about? They knew something she didn’t? Did they see where they went, or did they see them…. Her head felt light.

She takes a breath and asks one more question. “What am I missing here?”

A familiar voice rings out .

“O-Oh, you w-w-wouldn’t even bel-lieve it , Apes.”

Her eyes go wide. No, it can’t be– but she could recognize that nickname and charismatic tone anywhere. She feels herself tremble, the bat slipping out of her now limp wrist and making a faint clank on the ground. Slowly, she turns towards the van. The breath in her lungs escapes her.

Two green arms wrapped in black gloves hang lazily around the driver seat’s leather shoulders. Biceps are striped with yellow, shoulders accompanied by an all too familiar battle shell. Blood and torn skin wrap around his neck, matching the red of his facial marks. April gapes at the face of one trademarked smile.

“Leo,” she breathes out. In a way, the boy was right: she couldn’t believe it. Even when he winks, it was hard for her to believe that the teen stuttering and struggling to even stand on his own two feet was the real Leonardo. 

He grins, displaying full rows of teeth. ‘Leo’ glances back further into the van, looking at what she assumes is one of the van’s other passengers. “Wakey-wakey, sleepyhead. S-seriously, I dunno how you managed to f-fa-fall as-sleep with how m-many cop cars w-we had tailing us,” he teases.

The other one seemed to stir from his sleep and let out a yawn. His voice was just as recognizable as Leo’s, if not more. “You try being awake for a near, 48 hours, during the near end of the world… and tell me that again.”

“N-Nah. I’m g-good. Now c-come– help me out of this d-d-damn van.”

The Brute opens the van’s side door with a great bang, revealing two green twins. Donnie and Leo stumble out, balancing themselves on each other. April stares and says the only words on her mind:

“Holy shit.”

Before they could take a breath, April tackles them with a large hug. The two almost trip at the inertia, but April’s unyielding grip keeps them on their feet–or well, dangling. Leo lets out a choked laugh. “W-Woah! He-hello to yy-you too.”

“W-Who..” 

Leo turns his attention back to Don. “It’s alright, D-Dee, it’s April.”

“Oh.” Donnie’s shoulders only relax a little bit. April glances at Leo, who only replies with a shrug.

Though she’s reluctant, April eventually pulls away from the two and takes in their appearance. Don’s face was completely maimed, with blood caking every inch– it wasn’t a pretty sight, that’s for sure. On the other hand, while Leo wasn’t bleeding near as much, the heavy bruising and visibly dislocated shoulder made up for it. He looked like a walking corpse. “Where were you guys? Leo you ass, I thought you were in that monster’s dimension!” Her eyes shake in concern. “Are you two alright?”

“W-We-”

“Stop talking, Leo.” Donnie winces as he tries to rebalance himself. “Staten Island. We managed to get Leo out through casual manipulation of space-time and I guess magic, but whatever we did fried the communication system. Had to walk back until Jones located us around Brooklyn.”

April blinks. “You guys walked to Brooklyn from Staten Island??”

Leo interjects against Don’s will. “ D-Donnie walked to Brooklyn from Staten Island.”

“Irrelevant.”

“While dragging us.”

“Apologies, did you want me to leave you behind?”

“He got s-shot.”

“You got what?!” April sputters. Leo points to Donnie’s shin, which is bleeding and tightly bandaged. Leo grins. “D-Dude that shot him looked l-l-like he came from the Mat-Matrix.”

Donnie’s eyes widen in surprise. “Wait, rewind. Seriously?”

“Serious! B-black coat, sunglasses, and a-all.”

“You two should be in a hospital.”

The two brothers ignore her statement, but in all her concern, April felt relieved by their bickering. Of course, she could tell it wasn’t fully genuine– there was a forced lightness in their tones that mixed oddly with their shaking bodies. But they were present. They were here, right at arm’s length.

The heat burned hotter.

Future Boy finally stirs back to consciousness and stumbles next to April’s side. He trips and nearly falls, but his mom manages to catch him and takes on his body weight easily. “Sensei?” Casey murmurs.

Leo turns to him with a half-smile. “Nah- j-just Leo.”

April shakes her head– these dorks. “Y’all need medical help, stat.”

“You guys have some supplies down at the base, yeah?” Casey Senior asks.

Donnie grunts. “We need a doctor. Leo’s got fractures along his cranium to his tibia– Mikey and Raph are of similar condition.” At the other two boys’ mention, April glances over to the van. Sure enough, the brothers could be seen peeking out from the side with major scars and bruises of varying looks.

“Shit, that bad? I thought you guys could regenerate or something.”

“Not as fast as one might think, especially with heavier wounds.”

April was a little curious about that. Specifically towards Donnie. “Did you lose your first aid supplies? Typically you’re on top of this sort of stuff.”

Leo winces as Donnie’s face distorts. “..I’m a little disposed at the moment.”

‘It’s complicated, talk later,’ Leo mouths to April. Oh. “My bad, it’s all good.

 “I just phoned Drax, actually,” April continues. “He’s a scientist, I’m sure he knows a doc that can help. Maybe we can meet him in the Hidden City?”

Casey Junior rubs his head. “If I remember correctly, most if not all of the standing portals got smashed in the rubble.” 

“Ah, right!” Casey Sr. turns over to the Foot Lieutenant. “You got enough energy now, yeah?”

The group goes silent as the attention turns over to the man. He sighs. “It won’t be for long, but I can make a portal to the Hidden City.”

Well! That solves a few things. “B-Big enough to fit t-the van?” Leo asks.

“No– not currently, anyways.”

April stares at Mikey and Raph while Leo glances over at Don. The latter rolls his eyes without even looking. “Worry for yourself, Nardo. I can walk a measly few hundred blocks.”

The Brute– do they not have names or somethin?- carries Mikey and Raph out of the van with relative ease. As much as April didn’t trust the two clan members and wanted them far away, they weren’t in a position to refuse. “Hey, Case?”

“Hm?” “Yes?” The two Caseys respond at the same time. Oh boy.

“Boy Casey- uh, Cassie .”

“Cassie?”

“Think you can help out Leo?”

He frowns. “Oh, yeah! Let me-” He tries to stand and walk a few steps on his own, but quickly falls flat. Oh yeah. No.

April winces. “Maybe just head back to base? I’ll find a way back after the boys’ health is secured.”

He flings himself up. “No! It’s fine, I can-”

“He’s fine, O’Neil! I’ll keep him safe, don’t worry!” 

“Wait, what?” 

April’s ‘partner’ lifts the pale boy by the scruff of his cape with a singular hand. She grins, nestling on her hockey mask. “We’ll take the van and take care of the military!”

“The military.” Right, she kinda forgot about them. They should be making their rounds around here soon.

Leo speaks up. “B-Be quick. I think we got l-like. A minute b-b-before someone g-gets here. T-t-there’s an alleyway y-yy-yo-you- mmrph!” Donnie seems to have had enough, covering the former’s mouth with the forearm of his glove. “Alleyway, two streets down. Has a passageway that goes straight to the base you can take once the coast is clear,” Donnie finishes.

“Understood!” In one swift motion, Casey throws Cass into the passenger seat and jumps onto the driver’s. She gives one last pointed look to the Brute and Lieutenant before setting the shift stick to Drive. “Obey O’Neil, I know where you keep your Lou Jitsu collection.” She winks. “Byeee~!”

Future Boy looks panicked over to April for help, but by then, it was too late: the Jones zip off, leaving only dust in their respectively chaotic and dizzy wake. 

The Foot Lieutenant coughs, blowing away the dirt. “I’ll go ahead and work on opening that portal. Is this everyone?” He looks over the group; Leo looks around with a frown.

Leo turns to April, nudging Donnie’s arm out of the way. “Hey, w-where’s Pops?”

She blanks. Oh. She knew she forgot something.

“What is going on here?”

Speak of the devil– April turns back to the pizza joint, where Splints stood. He stumbles forward, supported only by a single, blue-handled katana. The color drains from Leo’s face.

“..Dad.”

Don frowns. “..Dad?”

Splinter stares over at the two boys with narrowed eyes. The dust settles. His eyes widen.

“..Leonardo? Donatello?”

Leon’s jaw shakes. She expected a quip, but there was no humor to be found. The teen just nods. Splinter trembles.

It’s a slow walk. April joins Splinter’s side and helps him out. He looks over to Mikey and Raph– despite their beaten bodies, the two seemed to sleep and breathe gently. He pats their heads before going back over to Leo and Don. 

Splinter stares at the two with a concentrated look. Leo averts his eyes, almost ashamed. He seemed to look anywhere that wasn’t Splinter or the blue katana.

After a long, suffocating moment, he gives them a look of concern. “Are you well?”

Don tenses. His eyes dart around as if trying to search for something. “I.. Yeah, Pops. As good as we can be.”

Splints frowns. “Don’t be funny with me, Donatello.” 

He flinches. “...Sorry.”

The Lieutenant calls out. “The portal’s almost finished– prepare for transport.” 

Splinter looks at April with a questioning look. “We’re taking ‘em to a doc in the city,” she replies. He nods. “Very well,” he says. “But first..”

He steps away from April, finding the ability to balance himself, if not for a little bit. He hands her the katana and steps closer to his boys. Leo glances back down at his dad. “Come here,” Splinter gestures.

Leonardo carefully lowers himself and Don towards the ground until they were around his eye level. He tries to gulp, but chokes and lets out a light cough– a trickle of blood draws from his mouth. Splinter brings a hand up and wipes it away. Leo’s eyes widen.

The boy’s stock still as Splinter cups his cheek. It is a gesture the father had often used while younger as means of affection– typically after one of them had a nightmare. Don reacts similarly, but upon feeling the touch of familiar fur and silk, he leans in. 

Leo stares at Splinter. Splinter stares back. The man smiles as tears glisten from his eyes. “My boys.. My sons . They have come back to me. 

“They are home .”

There was silence. And then there were sobs. The two brothers fall into their father’s arms, grasping at him with childish wails. Tears drip from Splint’s already swollen eyes, but instead of a numb frown, it is accompanied by a loving, graceful smile. 

Hamato Yoshi was whole once more.

April was happy. For now, there was nothing to fear. No one to grieve. They were safe. Her eyesight goes blurry, and so she reaches her hand to clean her glasses.

..Her eyes are wet.

She didn’t understand. The boys were back, so the burning should have gone away by now, right? If they managed to survive, her mom must have too– she was strong like that. Way stronger than her, it seems. 

Someone taps her shoulder, making her jump. She quickly rubs at her eyes to put back on her glasses; it was the Foot Lieutenant. “The Portal is open– it’ll only stay for a few minutes, so we have to be quick.” 

“Oh. Alright, yeah.” She looks over. The Brute, along with Mikey and Raph, seem to have already left. Splinter gives a nod towards them. They’ll be fine. 

The Lieutenant nudges his head over to the portal. “Are you coming?” he asks.

April nods. “Yeah, just let me grab my stuff.” The man grumbles but doesn’t say anything else as she jogs off back into the pizza joint.

She grabs the pound cake and shoves it back into her bag. After a moment of contemplation, she puts away the broken weapons along with the katana. She looks back– the Lieutenant was already gone, and the three Hamatos were in the process of leaving too. Splinter, the last to go, gives her a look and mouths a few words.

‘Thank you.’

He steps into the portal.

For a few moments, April was alone.

She feels a sense of bitterness and guilt. She did nothing to receive thanks, really– the Jones did leagues more than she could. April slings the bag back onto her shoulder.

She had a minute or two. With the spare time she had, she opened her phone, which showed her voicemails. She clicked on the phone tab.

13 missed calls to Augie. 17 missed calls to Dad. 42 missed calls to Mom.

April calls again.

…

…

…

..Voicemail.

She speaks anyways.

“Hey, Mom. Calling again, to see where you at. You’re prolly peeved seeing all these calls, thinking I’m wasting battery or something. But hey! At least you know I’m alive, right? Way more than you’re doing right now, you jerk.

“N-Not that you’re a jerk, Ma, I’m kidding! Kidding, like I always do. Don’t.. Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine, okay? Just make sure you’re fine too– same with Uncle Augie, you know how much trouble he always gets into. 

“My friends came back. I’ll be staying with them until all of this stews over. I haven’t been able to contact Dad yet, but I’m sure Dee– the techy one, remember?– can help me find a way. And no need to nag me, I will totally go to sleep early, remember to wash my bonnet, and get my college work done. ..If it’s still open, anyways.

“...I, uh, need to go now. I’ll call again! I promise. So don’t you die on me! ..Alright?

“....”

Her voice quivers as heavy tears drip down her face. She was but a moth engulfed in flames.

“..Bye. I love you, Ma.”

...Keep calm, O’Neil.

Click .