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"Is this the safe, Draxxy?"
Mikey flashes an excited smile in the direction of the formerly villainous yokai as he gestures at an unassuming, yet still obviously solid looking container hidden under some sheets amongst the machinery in Draxum's old lab.
The yokai lets out a grunt of affirmation. "Yes it is. Now move aside while I input the code."
Mikey skips out of the way to stand beside his purple-adorned brother who had accompanied them.
Donatello was not particularly pleased to be asked on a mission with their now semi-reformed creator, but he was needed "in case anything science-y happens", in Michelangelo's words. Truth be told, they really only needed the help of Shelldon, who is perfectly capable of being by himself, thank you very much. The drone in question hovers by his own creator with an easy expression on his robotic features.
"So you left a whole jar of ooze in your lab where just about anyone could get their hands on it?" Shelldon remarks, sharing a sarcastic smile with the softshell.
"Not very smart for a warring warrior scientist," Donnie monotones, and both he and Shelldon share a fist bump of sorts, looking smugly at the sheepman.
Draxum lets out an irritated humph and says, "I kept it in a secured location where no one could easily find it and kept it locked up. See, it's here." He gestures at the now open safe with a container filled with glowing green liquid inside. "Have your drone pick it up for me and we can be on our way. When we get back, I can find a way to safely handle and dispose of it."
Donnie lets out a dry "uh huh" and waves to the drone. "Shelldon, if you would be so kind."
"No problemo broseph," Shelldon says, floating over to the container and securing it with a clamp on his back.
"I just need to finish shutting things down and wiping the information from my systems. Then we can be out of here before the police resumes their rounds of investigation,” says Draxum.
He walks over to some computers and begins typing away.
Donnie's eyes remain narrow and unhappy as he pulls aside Mikey and mutters to his youngest brother, "Remind me again why we're helping him wipe his records of this place? It's like we're helping him get rid of evidence."
"It's not that," Mikey's voice changes to that of his Dr. Feelings cadence, "I thought it'd be a good way for Draxibald to cleanse himself of his past, by letting go and deleting all of his evil experiments." His voice shifts back to something more natural and cheery. "Besides, this way no one else can find this information and use it for bad stuff ever again!"
"Fine," Donnie huffs out.
Mikey looks at his older brother with some concern. "What's wrong?"
Donnie looks away. "It's nothing."
"Donnie."
Something seems to catch Donnie's attention then. "Hey, look at that."
"Donnie, what did we say about avoiding your feelings?"
"Scoff! I'm not avoiding anything," he says, crossing his arms defensively, obviously avoiding something.
Mikey raises his brow, unimpressed.
Donnie ignores this and points to a corner of the lab. "Really though, look at that."
Mikey's narrowed gaze shifts to one of awe as he follows Donnie's pointed finger to a couple of large containers filled with aged looking yellow liquid with some solid forms floating inside. Though shriveled and pale, the forms were unmistakably that of large sea turtles.
Shelldon lets out a long "Wooaaaaah" at the sight and quickly hovers himself over in that direction. “Neato!” he exclaims.
Mikey and Donnie follow, also looking on in amazement at the sheer size of the turtles. They are much larger than the two youngsters. Even larger than Raph. And the size of the containers holding them must require gallons upon gallons of liquid to accommodate their giant bodies.
Upon closer inspection, however, the site is a little less wondrous as the large turtles are obviously dead and preserved in the large vats. Mikey's face scrunches up in discomfort and quickly clings to his brother, whose snout wrinkles in disgust.
"Planning on mutating more than just us, huh, Draxum?" Donnie calls over to the scientist.
Draxum looks on, expressionless. "I had at one point considered making a more solely aquatic group of warriors, but I was worried that the size of the leatherback turtle would be too difficult to deal with. Now please step away from there. I'm going to cut power to the specimen preservation units and they may become unstable."
Not eager to stay near the somewhat morbid sight, Mikey scampers over to where Draxum is. Donnie lingers, however, giving the specimens another once over before slowly turning away.
That's when the shift happens.
It is all too quick. A hiss of escaping steam. A light clinking of glass as the containers tip over.
Donnie isn't nearly out of their range and he looks on in horror as the large containers loom over him.
He barely registers his brother screaming his name before he feels a sudden thud against his side, and he is pushed out of range by the small purple figure that is his drone.
"Shelld--" Donnie isn't able to finish his cry before many tons of glass and preservative chemicals come crashing down on his beloved drone.
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There is a stillness in the air as the tinkling of glass and the trickling of liquid comes to a halt. The leatherback sea turtles are all but disintegrated after having been kept for who knows how long in the vats, and their pieces are scattered about in the mess of the oozing yellow liquid. Donnie stares wide-eyed into the middle of the wreckage where Shelldon lays. A large shard of glass has pierced straight through his robotic body. Sparks of electricity buzz out of the small drone, but other than that, he does not move.
The purple clad turtle lets out a strangled yelp as he calls his drone’s name. “Shelldon!” Donnie rushes over to the drone, not caring about the glass or debris scattered about. He reaches out for the small bot, but something catches him around the middle and holds him back, right before he can get to him.
Donnie yells angrily, “no, NO! Let go of me!” He turns around to see Draxum holding him in place with one of his vines.
“I told you the containers were unstable,” Draxum chides, expression flat.
Donnie tries again, “Let me go! I need to check on him!” Donnie squirms in the grasp of the vines trying to reach out for the drone.
Draxum continues, “I wouldn’t touch it if I were you.”
Donnie spits fire back at Draxum, “How dare you tell me what I do with my drone! This is your fault!” His voice cracks as he turns back worriedly to Shelldon. “I need to see if he’s--!”, but Donnie is cut off by a gentle touch on his shoulder.
“He’s right, Dee,” Mikey says sadly. “Look.”
Donnie’s watery eyes focus on Shelldon. The ooze container that was clamped onto his back earlier had shattered and the mutagen now covered the drone’s entire body, seeping into his cracks, causing his normally pink glow to be tinged with a sickly green.
Donnie stops struggling, but his hands still linger in the air over Shelldon’s body. Hovering and unable to touch him. To either help or provide comfort.
Draxum slowly releases Donnie from the vines. Mikey goes to stand next to him, holding onto his brother’s arms lightly - half in a hug and half to prevent him from getting any closer to the dangerous ooze-covered drone. Donnie’s hands lower in shock and defeat and he leans a little into Mikey’s touch.
A robotic whine then comes from the scene in front of them. Shelldon’s head twitches and his eyes open, but the light that illuminates them flicker unsteadily.
“Shelldon?” Donnie says hopefully.
Shelldon’s gaze focuses on his creator, but his eyelids droop a little and he stutters out a weak laugh. Did he always sound so robotic? Donnie wonders vaguely. “I, uh.. really beefed it this time… didn’t I, Dee?” Shelldon says in an attempted lighthearted tone.
Donnie shushes him and leans down towards him. He wants to hold onto his drone so badly; to pat his head, to give him a scritch behind the ears and tell him he’s okay. But he forces himself to keep hold onto Mikey’s grip instead. He plasters a smile on his face and uses the uncharacteristic soft tone that he only seems to use when he is sorry about something. Or when he’s scared. “No, no buddy, you did- You did great!” His lower lip trembles. “You saved me!” He holds a hand to his chest for emphasis. The hand forms into a fist as if to put a clamp on his breaking heart. “And- and I’ll make sure to- to bring you home, and fix you up, and I’ll even let you charge until noon!” It’s getting harder to smile.
Shelldon blinks, or perhaps it's the lights in his eyes flickering on and off. “My core is damaged, Dee…. Contaminated liquid… leaking into my memory systems… Probability of recovery is minimal...” Shelldon’s normally laid back tone being replaced by more purely technobabble sounds unnatural and unnerving to Donnie. But he doesn’t remark on it. Instead he shushes the drone again. “Shh, don’t, talk more, you’ll drain your power.” His smile stretches into something almost hysterical and his voice pitches higher. “I can fix this! I can fix anything!”
“Yeah…” Shelldon’s eyes droop tiredly, and he says, as if from rote, “You are the greatest turtle, Donatello…” The flickering of the lights behind Shelldon’s eyes stutter once more before fully going out.
Donnie sinks down to his knees. Mikey follows him to the floor, supporting his weight. Tears start streaming from Donnie’s eyes and he buries his face into his younger brother’s shoulder. Mikey clutches Donnie’s shaking form tightly as his body is wracked with quiet sobs. Small tears form on the box turtle’s own features, but he holds onto his older brother and tries to whisper words of comfort as best he can.
The quiet sadness is broken by Draxum’s voice. “Why are you crying over a piece of technology? You can always make a new one.” It is all too cold and uncaring.
Donnie stiffens in Mikey’s grip, and Mikey stares wide eyed at the sheepman. Donnie lifts himself out of Mikey’s hug. “‘Make a new one?’” He straightens himself up. “‘Make a new one,’ he says!” He turns to look at Draxum, hot and angry tears pouring from his eyes. “Make a new Shelldon? His memory chips will be flooded! Corrupted by YOUR ooze! I can’t get that back! How DARE you suggest that I REPLACE Shelldon?!”
Draxum’s expression falters slightly, suddenly aware that a nerve had been touched. But unsure of exactly what he had done wrong, he remains stoic. “It’s just a drone. Don’t you have more?”
Donnie’s eyes widen and his face contorts in rage. “He is not just a drone! He is Shelldon! He is our family! He’s my---” He shuts his eyes and grinds his teeth, throat constricted with emotion. “But of course,” he continues, in a low and dangerous rumble, “someone who only sees his creations as weapons to use for his own gain wouldn’t understand.”
He glares at Draxum challengingly. Draxum’s eyes widen a hair and he stares back, not saying a word.
Mikey is left watching them, eyes shifting nervously between the two, unsure of what to do or say, with no small amount of grief tinging his own heart. But then a glowing something catches his eye.
"Omigosh, guys, look!" he whispers with astonishment.
The two scientists pull their gaze away from each other and look over to what Mikey is staring at.
The ooze that had covered Shelldon's body is now giving off an otherworldly glow, and is seemingly pulsing with energy.
Draxum leans closer with his own look of astonishment. "Fascinating," he exclaims. "The ooze seems to be trying to initiate a mutation..."
Mikey looks at the sheepman curiously. "You mean he could be mutated?"
Draxum lets out a thoughtful hum. "The ooze shouldn't be able to mutate inorganic material... Yet nothing's ever been exposed to this large of a dose before... And perhaps it is also reacting due to the leatherback samples that the drone has been exposed to..."
Mikey perks up. "Could this help save him, then?"
Draxum closes his eyes and shakes his head, "No. Even if it is able to mutate the drone, there is no way it would be a stable mutation. The only organic DNA available is from these leatherback specimens which have been long dead and are now largely destroyed."
"What if we combined it with DNA from a stable mutation?"
Draxum and Mikey turn to Donnie who had remained quiet during the whole exchange. Donnie's expression and voice are strained, as if not wanting to indicate hope, but his jaw is set in quiet determination. "What if we used my DNA to help stabilize the mutation?"
Draxum put a hand to his chin, scientific intrigue getting the better of him, "Hmm... that could potentially work..." But he quickly waves his hand as if waving away the thought. "No, starting up my machines again could alert the police and I'm not risking getting arrested again for some drone."
Donnie is about to retort, but Mikey beats him to it. "Please, Draxum!" He places a hand on Draxum's own. "Shelldon's not just a drone. He's family!"
Draxum looks at Mikey, expression faltering under the young turtle's imploring gaze. His eyes move over to Donnie whose determined look is more firmly set on his face.
The yokai lets out a defeated sigh and says, "If we're going to do this we must be quick about it. And then leave as soon as it is over and I've shut everything down."
The two turtles share a triumphant smile. "Well, we are ninjas after all," Mikey says smoothly. "Speed and stealth are our middle names."
Draxum rolls his eyes before turning to the purple brother. "To make this work you will have to go through the same procedure as your father did when I transferred his DNA to you." He locks eyes with him and gives him a serious look. "It will be painful. And I cannot guarantee that it will work, or that it will be the same Shelldon that you know."
Donnie stiffens, but clenches his fists at his sides and does not falter. "I don't care. I have to try."
Draxum's eyebrows arch and a small hint of a smile pulls at the corner of his mouth. He looks almost impressed? Proud, even? But the moment is over and he turns to his machines saying, "Let's get started."
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The machines are turned on, and using his vines, Draxum maneuvers Shelldon's broken body into a liquid container. Donnie is strapped below it, and he vaguely wonders if this is what it was like for Splinter. Because if he's honest with himself, he's terrified. But looking up at the drone that had saved him, he swallows his fear and nods to Draxum. Draxum nods back and starts the machine.
Shelldon is not just a drone. Shelldon is family. Shelldon had saved him. And Donnie would do just about anything to return the favor.
Draxum was right about one thing though - the procedure was very painful.
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Donnie is in trouble. Shelldon had seen the containers begin to tip over. Donnie isn't in a position to get out of the way in time. The thought that immediately rushes through Shelldon's head? Gotta save Donnie. So he moves as quickly as he can. He is a fast drone. Nearly won at the drone races, after all. Donnie had saved him then. Donnie had given Shelldon life to begin with. And Shelldon would do anything to return the favor.
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Everything is dark. Like a blank screen with nothing on it.
His memory is fuzzy. It's not usually like that. His memory systems are normally flawless. But right now he's struggling to remember just what happened and why he currently feels like his battery is drained almost all the way. Like he can't get out of sleep mode. Not cool. Flashes of a lab, some large containers, and a humanoid turtle in purple cross his mind. That turtle is important, he's pretty sure. Something twinges at his core at the thought of him. Who was he again..?
He hears a voice.
"Shel...n… cn… y... he.r.. me?
The voice is familiar. It's nagging and he's pretty sure that it's ruined his fun on more than one occasion. Yelling at him to stop charging so late or to stop drone racing around the lair. But it's... comforting. Safe.
He tries to concentrate on it.
"Shelldon!"
Shelldon? Was that the purple turtle's name? No, he's pretty sure that's his own name. Man, his memory is really jacked today.
The nagging, fun-ruining, safe voice is still there, calling him. It sounds desperate, and a part of Shelldon is desperate to answer it. It is important, like that turtle. Is this that turtle? The turtle... The greatest turtle. Something in his thoughts click into place.
Shelldon opens his eyes. He looks up at the purple-adorned softshell holding onto him. There's a lot of pain and worry in the turtle’s eyes, and Shelldon is reminded of why he went through the trouble of saving his beloved creator.
When he speaks his voice is quiet and weak, and without any hint of mechanical reverb, but the name is now clear in his mind. "...Donnie?"
Donnie's expression turns into one of pure relief and joy. Tears form in his eyes, but he smiles widely and lets out a hiccupy laugh. "Shelldon! It worked! I can't believe it worked! You're okay! You're alive!"
Shelldon is enveloped in a tight hug. It is impossibly warm; one hand cupped lovingly behind his head. Shelldon still feels weak, so he can't do much to hug back. But he sinks into the touch. Donnie always did give great hugs, even if they were rare, but this one feels different. It is warm and soft, but not in a way that Shelldon could calculate by numbers. No temperature reading comes to mind. No pressure sensitivity indication. Just. Warm. And soft. And somehow that means more. It feels like more.
Suddenly Shelldon becomes aware of a word that Donnie had used. Alive.
Shelldon looks around. He sees Draxum and Mikey off to the side. Mikey has a bright smile on his face, his hands clasped in front of him. Draxum looks almost downright flabbergasted, as if he doesn't believe what he's seeing.
Shelldon blinks for a second and tries to move. To take stock of the rest of his body. He had been sure he was damaged in that accident. And everything feels off. But for some reason his systems aren't sending him any indications of the damage.
Donnie, perhaps sensing the movement, releases Shelldon from the hug, but still holds onto him for support. From this angle, Shelldon is able to actually take a look at himself.
He looks down, but what he sees confuses him. There are no rotors, no purple metal. What? There's a yellow plastron. Dark green arms with three fingered hands. Legs. These aren't Donnie's. The color is wrong. And besides, Donnie is holding him and he is in Donnie's lap. The arms move and Shelldon realizes that the one moving them is himself. He can feel them. He wiggles the fingers then brings them to his face. It is fleshy. Scaly. Turtle-like.
That word that Donnie used comes to mind again.
He looks to Donnie again, eyes wide with wonder. "I'm... alive..?"
Donnie cracks a half smile and huffs out a tired laugh. "You're a real boy now, Shelldon."
Shelldon's mind has trouble wrapping around the concept. It's a lot to take in. He quickly becomes aware of various new sensations. Breathing. Touch. The absence of ones and zeros. The presence of intangible emotions. It is very overwhelming, and along with the tiredness - that's what it was, not low battery - that he felt earlier, it is almost too much. His body starts to shut down - no, fall unconscious - again.
But he likes this word.
Alive.
And all he can say before he passes out again in Donnie's arms, with a wobbly smile on his face, is "Radical!"