Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The sting of defeat still hadn’t left Kendra. Oh, how she hated that turtle. It used to scare her how much, but the feeling burns through her now. It fuels her every action, thought and dream. His tech will free her from this shitty high school, this stupid town, her conniving, cowardly club members she calls friends.

Her hands shake on the table. The previous plans failed. The burn for revenge almost blinds her, but she has to stay on track. She breathes in deep. Get the tech. Hurt the turtle. The air shakes in her lungs, but she holds it in. Get his tech. Crush him into the dirt and leave him there. She breathes out.

Recollecting herself, she scans through the footage of the giant bot he controlled way back when, looking for ideas on how to handle the turtle genius. As much as she hates to admit it, he is incredibly intelligent. Outsmarting him hasn’t worked in the long run, and she needs results.

“Wait, pause,” Kendra states absentmindedly, pointing to Jason without a glance. The screen stops on the three figures on the ground, two hiding behind a knocked over vehicle, while the other waves his arms frantically.

“Brothers,” she mumbles, “I forgot about his brothers.” She remembers his desperation when he realized he could kill them, that he almost did. She stands in front of her screen for a moment, deep in thought. Turning away from the turtles on the screen, she makes her way to the table in their shithole hide out. Brushing off the empty cans and dirty napkins that would normally annoy her, she smiles wide, unbothered by it all. Jeremy and Jason glance at each other before following her over to the table.

“We’ve been going straight for his tech this entire time, and it hasn’t worked so far. We need to take a different route,” she traces the lines on the grainy table, over the rings left from past beverages, and to the knife resting in the middle.
“Um,” Jason mumbles, fidgeting to her right. “What does this have to do with his brothers?”

Kendra smiles, holding up the knife in front of her, watching the light refract and bounce across the grubby walls. Her eyes are full of mirth and something else the boys cannot pin down.

“It has everything to do with his brothers. Think Jason, what would you do for your family?”

Chapter Text

Donnie stared at the one empty spot of his overcrowded desk, almost sensing the movement of his stuff by foreign hands. His eyes followed the new addition of stickers; little stars and zigzags creating a sharp contrast to Donnie’s established Lab Aesthetic. Next to those was a small illustration of Mikey and Leo, clearly in Mikey’s style, followed by their initials. Next to those two, in a messier, more inexperienced style, is a rough drawing of Raph and his initials, having clearly felt left out when hearing about the rendezvous. All the illustrations are done in marker that could easily be washed off (his brothers knew what his lab space meant to him, and would not go that far).

“A sponge, dude?” Shelldon offers, appearing behind Donnie with cleaning supplies.

Donnie sighs, “No that won't be necessary.”

He sits down, gently replacing his keyboard over the drawings.

He’d gone out for a few hours with April, helping her study for a chemistry exam and watching a few movies. Donnie found it a bit surprising they ventured into his lab, often avoiding it unless he brought them inside to show off something new. Granted, their boredom has been pushing them to new limits. They were all bored.

Things had been quiet lately, not too eventful. They sometimes venture into the night, beating up muggers and general baddies, and while that feels beneficial, it can feel repetitive at times. They don’t plan on stopping, of course, but finding some new hobbies would be appreciated.

Donnie’s thought process is brought to a halt by the cheesy grin of his twin in the doorway. His dead stare doesn’t dampen his joy in the slightest.

“What do you want, Nardo?”

“You’re back!” Leo exclaims, not moving past the doorway of the lab.

Quirking a drawn brow, Don replies slowly. “I am. Your excitement is suspicious. What do you want?”

“Can I come in?” Leo’s fidgeting only increases in the doorway, desperate to break the barrier of the Forbidden Lab.

Donnie squares him up, settling on the glowing smile. “Why not. You know the rules,” he sighs, and Leo hops in rolling in the spare chair across the floor of the lab.

“So, what you workin on?” Leo leans in, looking at the blueprints on the screen.

“Just another battle shell prototype,” Don replies, resting his chin on his hand.

All his brothers have expressed interest in his tech, in their own ways. Mikey can listen for hours, interjecting with design ideas that Donnie often implements seeing as it makes his little brother very happy, and the designs are quite ingenious, so it only makes sense.

Leo enjoys listening to Donnie’s rambles about tech, actually holding a decent amount of interest in the possibilities, but gets distracted quite easily. This led to the creation of many custom made fidget toys that now line Leo’s shelf, and at least one in his satchel at all times. Leo is smarter than people give him credit for, and understands his tech to a degree, always curious about Donnie’s plans.

Raph loves to encourage Donnie’s work, listening intently, even if he doesn’t understand a word he is saying. He will ask for clarification often, which Don enjoys more than he’d admit, and will call it cool and say he is proud of him for all he does.

Leo’s eyes scan the blueprints, noting another file below it. “What’s that one?”

Donnie glances at it before clicking it. “Oh, that’s just some ideas for some armor for everyone.”

He watches as Leo’s eyes grow big, and Donnie feels the tug of a smirk pull his own lips at the reaction. After his first attempt at gifting tech to his brothers, he’s been more open to their input on what they’d want. Don knows armor is generally a good idea, but beyond that, what kind of armor is still an open question.

“Oooooo!! I love the arm guards, and the-“

“LEEEOOO!”

Said turtle’s smirk melts off his face, wincing at his oldest brother’s voice.

“Ah. You were hiding in here,” Donnie states, returning to his screen. “I have no part in this, I didn’t see you.”

The sound of loud footsteps gets louder, and Leo scrambles. Frantic, but not wanting to break any tech and piss off a second brother, he crams himself behind Donnie, almost forcing him out of his chair.

“Wh-hey! Get off!” Donnie adjusts himself, feeling Leo curl up behind him, ducking low. “This in no way looks natural Nardo, he will still see you.”

A beat passes before a leg pops out, turning the chair to face away from the door, before disappearing back behind Donnie.

Before Don can complain, the loud steps stop outside the lab. Glancing around the back of his chair, he sees an angry red brother appear in his doorway. Raph is maskless, but now sports a pair of thick eyebrows, as well as a long stache on his upper lip.

“Have you seen Leo?”

Donnie thinks for a moment, before speaking. “I have not seen him. I’d try the ramp, he said something about skating earlier,” he glances back again, slight smirk on his face. “Nice look by the way.”

Raph growls, before leaving the doorway, footsteps gradually fading.

“Thank you thank you thank you,” Leo rambles, untangling himself and climbing out of the chair. His fingers twitch, a telltale sign he wants to grab or hug, but he stops himself. “You’re my favorite brother,” he settles on, bouncing on his toes.

“Only because you have good taste,” Donnie smirks, sliding his goggles on. “Now scoot, I have stuff to do.”

“You’re damn right I have good taste,” Leo winks, running out of the room, and in the opposite direction of the rampaging older brother.

Chapter Text

She’d been working for days, trapped in the new plan she has for defeating this turtle. Dismantling old projects, rebuilding them to create rather… concerning things. Jeremy was growing more and more uncomfortable with the situation, and he knew Jason was as well.

He skims the tools on the table, noting how they all can be labeled as weapons, more or less. He knew he didn’t feel as… strongly about this as Kendra did, but there must be a limit somewhere right?

“Are you sure we need all this?” Jeremy questions quietly.

The hum of machinery stops, before Kendra turns. “They’re strong and good fighters. Of course it’s necessary,” she replies offhandedly, returning to her work.

Jason scoots up next to Jeremy. “Have you thought of maybe… trying something else?”

Kendra looks confused, and slightly annoyed. “I am trying something different.”

“No I mean. I don’t know, moving on from this turtle guy.”

She stills, silence filling the room. The boys grow more and more nervous. This was the wrong thing to say.

“Do you know what that tech could do for us? And just in case you don’t remember, Von Ryan has destroyed us and our reputation, it’s only fair we return the favor. Right?” She finally glances back at the boys, a wild look in her eyes.

“If you’re not willing to fight for your place in the world, you won’t survive in it.”

The boys fidget in place, unable to think of a response, before Kendra stands.

“I have a mission for you if you’re willing. If not, I’ll do it myself. Your choice.”

Jason nods first, deciding he’d hear her out before saying no.

“Library. Tomorrow. Get O’Neil’s phone and send this message,” she hands them a note. At the look of confusion, she rolls her eyes. “If we do it remotely, he’ll be able to figure out the message was tampered with. Delete any trace of it after. Got it?”

Chapter Text

The most eventful thing to happen this week was watching Raph try to wipe off the massive eyebrows Leo had drawn on him in his sleep. And with what they get up to, that’s saying something. Raph had gotten Leo back with sliced onion in his pillow, resulting in a very teary eyed Leo asking dad for a spare.

Days later, they find themselves almost stir crazy. The Foot clan hasn’t been getting up to much, and while the defending bystanders from attackers thing is eventful, after fighting the Shredder, it almost feels like they aren’t being useful. Logically they know that if you ask the people they’ve helped, that wouldn’t be true, but it’s a trap they find themselves in.

Leo groans into a pillow from his spot on the couch, for the third time in ten minutes. Mikey looks up from his place on the floor next to him, lifting his brush away from Leo’s shell.

“Not you Mikey, you’re fine,” Leo mumbles, to which Mikey continues his doodles on his brother’s plastron.

He’d already painted Raph’s, who is now seated on the old recliner to Mikey’s right. His plastron featured an array of reds and oranges, sharp lines and geometric shapes, topped off with Mikey’s signature smiley face.

He was now working on a similar design, focusing on working with the differing shapes of his brother’s plastrons. He chose blue and green for Leo, with dashes of yellow scattered through. A blue green explosion extends from the top right, branching off across his chest and stomach, almost like lightning. He already had some ideas for what to do with Donnie’s design.

“I’m just so BORED!” Leo exclaims, pulling Mikey out of his thoughts.

“We all are Leon. We really need some new hobbies,” Raph mumbles, flipping through to channels with a blank stare.

“I’m pretty okay right now,” Mikey says brightly, smiling at his brothers, paint smudging his cheeks.

Leo smiles and leans his head on top of his little brother’s, giving a small nuzzle. “That’s great hermano, I love your designs. I’m just itching for some action is all.”

“You and me both,” Raph adds. “We could train?”

“I’m…almost willing to take you up on that one,” Leo smirks, thinking. “Maybeeee, we could hop over to the mall? Do some sick rooftop training there and back? Scope out some new digs April can grab for us?”

“No, we don’t need to go to the mall, we were just there last week.”

“Don’t be such a party pooper Raph, it would be fun you know it! It’s something to do! We could skate down the escalators, you loved that last time!”

An empty mall was almost like an amusement park to the brothers, as was the entirety of New York. Growing up in the sewers, you learn how to have fun with what you can find, which has helped in terms of entertaining themselves. At least, most the time.

Raph is quiet for a minute before mumbling, “I’ll think about it.”

A comfortable silence settles over the room, before the sound of footsteps is heard. The fourth brother emerges, shortly after, having finally escaped his Lab.

“Donnieeeee! Wanna go to the mall later? We can sneak into Fresh Scoops again.” Leo raises his eyebrows from his reclined position on the couch.

“Hm? Oh yeah sure, I’m down,” Donnie mumbles, glancing back to his phone.

“Guys? That’s breaking and entering! We can’t steal ice cream again!”

“Raph, going to the mall at night is breaking and entering,” Donnie glances at his oldest brother.

“Yeah well-,” Raph sputters, before grumbling to himself. “Y’all are stealing! Think of the example you’re setting for Mikey!”

“Oh dear brother, that ship has sailed,” Mikey adds, not looking up from his brush.

“Last time I saw, Raphy boy, you were mealing on that ice cream too,” Leo grins brightly. Mikey can’t help but direct a smirk at his oldest brother. The effort is appreciated, but they all know Raph will convince Donnie to leave payment for said ice cream, and his conscience will be cleared.

A beat of silence passes.

“Okay fine. Mall later,” Raph gives in.

Leo let’s out a celebratory woot, while Mikey giggles, and Raph can’t help a small smile. Donnie gives a flat “woohoo” before he feels his phone buzz.

‘Hey Don, you willing to come over tonight and help me out with a project? I’ve got work til 8. I’d appreciate it! Thx’

Donnie looks back up from his phone. “April just asked for help with a project tonight, but it shouldn’t take long, mall plan is still a go.”

Chapter Text

Donnie has already left for April’s place, when he gets a call from Raph.

“Hello big brother, what is the prob?”

“Oh I was just giving ya a heads up. Your scanner picked up some funky stuff downtown, we were gonna go check it out,” Raph replies.

Don’s brows furrow. His scanners? If they picked up something his phone should’ve pinged as well. He shrugs, figuring it’s a connection issue. He’ll fix it when he gets home.

“Are you needing me to join you? I can help out and get to April after,” Donnie offers, slightly interested in something other than muggers.

“Nah you go help out April, we got this,” Raph answers.

“Alright if you’re sure. Goodbye.”

“Peace,” Raph’s voice rings out, before the call ends.

A few minutes pass and his rooftop run is almost over, but he’s curious now; why didn’t his phone ping?

According to his phone, all his servers are online. That cannot be true if he didn’t get a ping. His wristband didn’t get the ping either. He shakes his head, slightly annoyed at the failing of his tech. April first. Servers second. He jumps off the roof, battle shell hovering him down to April’s apartment.

Landing on the fire escape, he raps on the window. After a few seconds, April appears, opening the window and allowing him to climb in. Mayhem rushes forward, jumping onto the bed to see him. He bumps Donnie’s hand, to which he gives a slight rub, before returning it to his side.

He settles into the beanbag in the corner double checking his phone for any mission updates, uncomfortable with the lack of confidence he has in his tech at the moment.

“So what brings you here Don? Not that I mind,” April asks, shuffling around with a bowl in her hand. He interrupted dinner.

He glances at Mayhem before looking back to April. “Uh. You asked me to help you with a project.”

It was April’s turn to be confused. “What project?”

“I am not sure, you messaged me asking if I could assist tonight after work,” he quirks his brow.

“Uh, no I didn’t,” she grabs her phone, opening their messages and handing it to Donnie. “I don’t even have a project to work on. And today was my day off.”

A sinking feeling consumes his stomach as he stares at the screen. Their last message had been about movie night this Friday. He grabs his own phone, opening his messages to find the new one, and shows it to April.

“I did not send that,” April states, growing nervous.

They stare at each other for a moment, before the sinking feeling in Donnie’s stomach turns to ice in his spine.

“It’s a setup.”

Before April can blink, he’s climbing back out the window and jumping off the fire escape.

“Wait, hold on, I’m coming with you!” She runs and leaps onto his back, grabbing the handles that appear automatically, before Donnie shoots off down the alleyway. “Okay, explain.”

Donnie presses buttons on his wristband frantically, growling when it gives him nothing. “Raph said there was a ping downtown, but my phone and wristband didn’t pick it up. I thought it was weird, but not concerning. Then there’s a phantom message separating me from my brothers at that exact moment.”

“Shit,” April supplies. “Can you find where downtown?”

Donnie growls more, “No it’s not giving me anything! I have to go back to the lab to figure it out, if that’ll even work. Ugh! I’ve already lost so much time!”

April pulls her phone out and calls Mikey. The ringing is agonizing, before going to voicemail. She tries Leo. Straight to voicemail. With shaking hands she tries Raph. A rock settles in her stomach as he doesn’t answer.

Donnie shoots through the manhole, rocketing down the tunnels to their home.

Shooting straight through the living room, Donnie heads directly to his lab, not slowing down a bit. April ducks down, fearing any possible low doorways.

He skids to a stop in front of his computer, April dismounting as the handles and turbines vanish inside his battle shell. Before her feet even touch the ground, he’s typing frantically on his keyboard, looking for the location of the ping.

“Where is it, where IS IT?!”

Each search, each map, each line of code April could never dream of understanding brings up nothing. No recent pings. No locations. No brothers.

He switches to police scanners. No incident reports fitting Raph’s description of ‘funky.’

She jumps as he slams his hands down, knocking over tools and in progress projects. He doesn’t seem to care.

He brings up the phone’s trackers reserved for emergencies only, and the ice solidifies in his bones.

All offline.

His world fizzes over and he barely registers the back of his knees hitting his chair. His pulse shakes his core, and the humming of machines grows loud, overwhelming his senses. He closes his eyes, everything too bright.

His tech failed. Someone separated him from his brothers, and now he can’t find them. His tech isn’t supposed to fail. It can’t fail.

“…nie? Donnie.”

Forcing one eye open, he sees April steps into his line of view, breaking through some of the fuzz consuming his mind. Her look of concern makes him feel like she’s been trying to get his attention for a while. She steps closer, but not touching.

“Focus on me Don.”

She exaggerates her breaths, and Donnie follows her example. After a few moments, the coil constricting him loosens. He uncurls from his chair (when had he curled up?), placing his feet back onto solid ground.

“Hey, listen. We’ll find them. We can find a way. Nothing stops my brothers.”

Her smile is gentle, but her hands shake and her eyes are watery.

He feels a fire burning low, in his core. Someone did this.

He watched her take a shaky breath in, and back out, pulling his attention back to reality. He forces another breath through his own chest. Find them. Deal with the ‘someone’ after.

“Do you have anything else you can try?”

“I can… I can try tracking the energy signatures of their mystic weapons. It might take a few hours though.”

April sighs, “It’s worth trying. I’ll go grab you some food okay?”

Donnie nods silently as she makes her way to the entrance of the lab, before turning around.

“We will find them Donnie.”

Chapter Text

“Alright, let’s go see what’s making Donnie’s tech act up,” Raph says, replacing his phone in his pocket, turning to his brothers.

“Stealth mode first?” Leo questions, before somersaulting from the edge of the roof to the next, rolling through it and running full speed, without breaking pace.

“Stealth mooooodeee!” Mikey cheers, slingshotting himself from exposed metal cell towers, orange chains dancing behind him.

“Yes, stealth mode first. Remember that requires you t’ be quiet!” Raph hisses, leaping across an alley, roof shaking below his feet.

“First one there gets Raph’s new teddy,” Leo sings, launching past both brothers, sticking his tongue out on the way. Mikey follows suit, giggling with his partner in crime.

“Do NOT touch Spike!” Raph yells, speeding up, scaling a fire escape in record time. “What kind of dibs is that? That’s not even FAIR.”

Giggles and jabs echo above New York, unheard by the passerby below. That’s the upside of this town, they have to be seen to be noticed. They can be as loud as they want, and they delight in it.

Their arrival to the adjoining building finds Mikey in first place, to Raph’s disappointment. At his brother's defeated expression, he promises to return the stuffed turtle tomorrow. How could he say no?

Once stepping foot onto the roof of the disturbance, the boys stick to the shadows and scope out any strange activity. A few minutes of stealth mode reveals nothing of concern, but that’s never been a reason to call it quits before.

Raph makes his way to the small awning, taking a closer look at the benches and stray chairs. The corner of the roof he finds himself in houses a small garden, as well as some hung laundry. The snapping turtle takes a leaf in his hands, noting the softness. He’s always been fond of plants, but they’re kind of hard to grow in the sewers. Whoever’s garden this is, it’s well cared for, and leaving laundry on the roof unattended is risky. It’s not something someone would do in a neighborhood they consider dangerous.

Whatever issue this location has, if any, it’s not the usual.

“Are we sure this is the right spot?” Mikey questions, stepping into the soft glow of the city and hopping up on the ledge, glancing into the alleyways from the rooftop.

“Hm, yeaahhh this rooftop’s looking pretty normal right now. For New York at least,” Leo chuckles to himself, glancing down at the neon store sign across the street. Mikey hops off the ledge, joining his brothers towards the center of the apartment complex.

“I’d suggest you look closer.”

All three boys’ gazes snap over to the voice at the edge of the roof, red and blue instinctively moving in front of orange, as they watch the shadow carefully.

“Heyyy, how’d you get here?” Mikey whines, crouching and glancing around his brothers, squinting at the figure hidden in the shadows.

“The stairs? Ugh,” the figure motions to the roof access, before shrugging. “You’re supposed to be ninjas? Whatever.”

Grumbling, the figure walks into the light to reveal pink hair and a familiar purple jacket.

“Ohh you’re the purple dragons lady! Kara? Kory?…Karen?” Leo guesses, giggling to himself.

“Kendra,” she growls, crossing her arms.

Raph’s eyes light up with recognition. “Oh yeah! We know you.” His tone holds no warmth.

Mikey glances up to his oldest brother, crossing his arms. “We do?”

“You’re the chick that tried to steal Donnie’s tech! Not cool man,” Raph adjusts his stance, preparing for a fight. Mikey and Leo follow suit, the former rising from his crouch between his siblings and twirling his yo-yo, while the latter unsheathes his odachi.

“Hey relax! I just wanna talk,” Kendra puts up her hands placatingly, taking a few steps forward.

A few seconds of silence pass.

None of the turtles move from their fighting stance. From an outside viewer, it would appear Leo had, but the brothers knew better.

He relaxes, leaning forward with a cheeky smile. Resting both hands on the hilt of his odachi, Leo looks the girl over. “Now what would you wanna speak to us about? Because we aren’t giving you any of Don’s stuff. He’s kinda territorial.”

“I’m not interested in taking his tech anymore,” Kendra huffs, her shoulders slumping. “I knew he wouldn’t be willing to speak to me, I thought I’d be able to get an apology to him through you guys?”

The three brothers watch her as she glances down and fidgets, before glancing at each other, wary of the girl in front of them. She’s attacked Donnie more than once, showing little care for her actions each time. They make no move to approach her.

“Leaving us alone would be enough,” Raph answers, not caring for this conversation, or her half-witted apologies. She hurt his brother, and he’s still a bit mad, sue him.

“Yeah, knowing you’re sorry is appreciated, but unless you got a clear ‘I’m nice now’ sign, we ain’t jumping to befriend nobody,” Mikey adds.

“That’s okay! I’m not really… interested in befriending I just… wanted to say something,” Kendra smiles, fiddling with the sleeves of her satin jacket. Mikey would almost feel bad if he didn’t remember his brother's own jacket, and how it was used against him.

“Wellll if that’s all you wanted to say…” Leo raises his odachi to rest on his shoulder, preparing to leave. He was starting to feel uncomfortable. Why couldn’t she just, I don’t know, send a message? Honestly this could’ve been an email. Something is off.

Her posture shifts drastically, much more cheerful than her previous shyness. “That’s all! I just needed to keep you all still for a minute!”

“Wh-“

Raph’s question is cut off by an almost inaudible ping, before his youngest brother is on the ground, screaming, electricity bouncing off his body. He turns, frantic, reaching for Mikey’s shaking form.

Before he can reach him, a second ping is heard, his world whiting out in agony, and he falls.

A horribly distressed sound comes from the blue one, kneeling down to his brothers. Or at least, he tries to. Something is pulling on his odachi, dragging him with it. He claws at the roof, at his brothers, begging for purchase, but only finds rough concrete. He feels his knees and plastron scrape across the roof, leaving a trail of blue green paint, world tilting, before he’s nose to nose with Kendra’s horrible smile.

Her satin sleeves are rolled up now, exposing both arms. Around her wrist glows some… device, Leo couldn’t guess, and in her other gloved hand rests his brothers’ mystic weapons. Her hand is closed around the handle of his odachi, appearing almost gentle. He tugs on it, but it doesn’t budge. Her smile only grows.

“Sorry, since there’s only three of us, and one was needed for distraction, we could only get two of you from behind. Unlucky you huh?”

Leo growls, glancing back at his brothers’ now still forms. A bubbling rage quickly rushes over, and before he knows it he’s head butting the girl in front of him. Blood pours from her nose and mouth as she reels back, splattering on Leo’s mask, but she doesn’t release him. He debates letting go, but how will he get them out without a portal?

He kicks out again, and her grip slips. He falls from her grip, but in a blink he’s up and ready to rush over to his brothers, but all he can do is freeze.

Two boys in masks, the other two members he’d guess, are standing over them with weapons. Weapons that he doesn’t understand, nor does he know the damage that can be done with them. He could teleport, but only to one brother. A millisecond too long is too much of a risk. He can’t risk this.

“Another shot from those will kill them, and I’d much rather you all live. This plan won’t work out how I want it if you're dead.” Her smile is audible, and it makes Leo’s blood boil. “So be a good turtle, and drop the sword.”

He’s not getting out of this. He breathes deep, knuckles white on the handle. Leo sees red, and it’s not just because of the blood running down his mask. They knew she was willing to play dirty, but this is a new low. He exhales, hands shaking.

“Listen. We can make a deal,” Leo offers, stalling rather. He has no clue what he can do to get his brothers out of this, and that alone terrifies him.

Kendra hums, almost amused. “And what can you offer me, Blue?”

“Just take me. That would be enough,” Leo growls, but he doesn’t move a muscle, odachi still frozen mid-slice, eyes locked on the two boys pointing guns at his brothers. “It’ll be enough. Mikey, he’s just fourteen. And-and Raph, he, he’s got nothing to do with this,” he takes in a shuddering breath. He can’t panic now, he can’t.

“I’m his twin,” Leo laughs nervously. “That’ll hit close to home right? It’ll be enough.”

Take the bait please take it, he pleads. He’s expendable. Mikey and Raph, they’re not. He can’t risk them.

“Hmm,” she seems to think for a moment. “It probably would be, but I could easily have three, which only sweetens the deal. Absolutely impossible to refuse! Now, my patience is really wearing thin, so I’d suggest you listen, because you’ve already really pissed me off. Now. Drop. The sword.”

A biting cold fear for his brothers consumes Leo, snaking up his spine, inching over his arms and legs, racing towards his heart. He’s out of time, and he can’t get them out of this. Raising his odachi, he glances at his reflection. Blood that isn’t his drips, landing on the blade. With a grounding breath, he glances back at Kendra.

“Fine. But you won’t be needing this,” he finishes his swipe, before dropping his odachi through the portal.

Kendra growls in frustration, before she’s suddenly on him, gloves glowing, grabbing him by the throat and lifting, his legs swinging uselessly. Eyes wide, he watches the portal close, feeling a hint of satisfaction at her failure, small as it is.

“I did as you asked,” he chokes out, “I dropped the sword.” He tries to grin, but her too strong grip cuts off his airways. His hands grab and scratch at her arm, but it doesn’t budge.

She lets out a choked growl. “Oh, you think you’re funny don’t you?!”

Her eyes bulge and her arms quake, before she stops and takes a breath. An icy calm settles over her, and a rock drops in Leo’s stomach. In a flash, he’s being slammed into the side of the roof access, vision going dark for a second. For a moment he can’t breathe, trying desperately to get some air into his lungs.

“You know what? I’m glad you were left for me,” Kendra’s hand shifts to grab his chin in a firm grip, Leo gasping as the grip on his neck slackens. He bucks against her, legs dangling, one hand grabbing the one on his neck, the other grasping at her jacket. Her other hand clamps down on his wrist, and with a twitch of her finger, a blinding pain slices through his arm. A scream claws it’s way up his throat, before she forces his jaw shut.

She relishes his pained expression, the glassy fear in his eyes, the pain still fighting its way out of his mouth.

“I’d feel a bit bad doing this to the orange one, but you?” She gives him a long look of building hatred.

“You’re just as unbearable as your brother.”

A burning fire erupts from her hand, electricity erupting through his jaw, through his chest, and down his limbs. His mouth goes dry, and the last thing he feels is his head being slammed into the wall for a second time.

Kendra watches as his eyes roll back and his arms go limp, limbs still twitching with electricity. Blood leaks sluggishly from the side of his head, blending with his red markings.

“Kendra. Kendra, that’s enough you can stop!”

Jeremy grabs her other wrist and pulls her away, the turtle dropping from her hand like a sack of bricks. Her chest heaves as her eyes don’t leave the unconscious mutant.

“What the hell are we doing Kendra?!”

She turns on him, eyes alight, “Getting our ticket out of this hellhole!” She turns away from him, walking towards the other two mutants.

“By doing what? They’re kids! We just electrocuted the shit out of some kids!” Jason adds, almost hysterical, next to Jeremy.

She turns, faster than he can blink. “So are we!”
Her finger jabs into her own chest, eyes brimming. “So are we. And look where that’s got us.”

A heavy silence covers the rooftop as she walks over, lifting the orange one in a fireman’s carry.

“Now, get the van. And make sure the tranqs are ready. I don’t know how fast mutants recover.”

Chapter Text

Donnie had never really tried to track mystic weapons before.

He knew it was a potential possibility in the future, so he had already scanned his brothers’ weapons previously. Well, okay, he’d actually scanned them because he didn’t trust the glowing weapons when they had first acquired them, believing they’d have tracking devices or secret bombs. So, he’d thoroughly investigated each weapon before returning them to each brother, at least feeling comfortable that their presence alone wouldn’t endanger any of them.

There was also the fact these were supposedly mystic weapons, defying science, and his sour attempts at finding scientific explanations for them had yet to work out.

This fact still irks him to this day.

Forcing the distasteful thought away, Donnie returns to his screen. The need to track them hadn’t come up before, with how protective his brothers are of said weapons, as well as the many other options of finding his brothers if necessary. There is also the issue of one of said weapon’s mystic ability being teleportation, which, while not changing how he would track it, does change how fast he’d need to be.

The purple turtle finds himself modifying his scanners to pick up the ‘energy’ (ugh, he despises the vagueness of the word) of these weapons, hoping he will find his brothers have just entered an area with no cell service, and will be located at the nearest pizza place, safe, uninjured and happy.

Unfortunately this process is easier said than done.

His scanners need rebooting after being hacked before. While they worked when he had arrived, Donnie didn’t trust them to be free of malware, having ignored it at the time because of his urgency. He also needs to modify his software to allow for mystic weapon tracking, as well as entering said signatures, rule out any false signals, and so on.

It had only been a few minutes since April left, the sounds of clattering dishes and cabinet doors reaching the Lab.

Only about half an hour since the world was okay, and his brothers’ safety wasn’t an unanswered question.

He has no way of knowing the location of the ping, having been wiped when he’d gotten home. He has no way of knowing if his brothers had even arrived there, if they were still there, or if they were long gone. He has no way of knowing who or what they encountered. He has no way of knowing why this happened.

Donnie hates not knowing.

A long sigh leaves his lips as he rubs circles into his temples, a stress headache long since formed. When he opens his eyes, a familiar hand is placing a plate in front of him.

“Any progress?” April questions, voice gentle. Her eyes are soft but the way she bites her lips gives away her frayed nerves.

“Sigh, only a little. I’ve scanned for malware and any leftover disruptions, but that came up with nothing. Whoever did this found a way to appear long gone, with the time window they had,” he states, poking the sandwich in front of him. “I’m working on getting the system to accept these signatures.”

His sister takes a seat in the rolling chair his twin has occupied just a few days before. She scoots over, leaning forward, elbows on knees. “Don, first off, you are incredible.“

A small smirk finds its way to his face, albeit joined by the visible stress lines between his brows. “Why thank you O’Neil-“

“Before you let it get to your head, my point in saying that is that you can do this,” her voice sobers. “We will find them. Period. Because you can. It’s not a question of if but of when and how. Now I don’t know tech like you do, but I do know I’ll fight like hell for my little brothers, and once you get a location, I’m fuckin up whoever’s there.”

“Raph’s older than you.”

April scoffs, “Like that matters.”

A small chuckle escapes him as he leans forward, offering his arm. She bumps hers against his, their practiced handshake familiar and comforting. The tight coil in his stomach loosens slightly, thanking whatever higher power for April O’neil. She scoots back, allowing him more space to return to his work, before a loud echoing clang is heard.

Their eyes meet, and they’re both out the door.

It came from the living area. Donnie wants to feel relief, but his anxiety only pools, gripping his organs in a vice as he runs. Please let them be home, please. Please let it be Mikey knocking over the toaster again, or Leo smacking the garage door, or Raph bumping his head on the kitchen pans.

Donnie almost slides past the entrance, slamming his shoulder into the doorway. The throb in his shoulder goes unnoticed, as all he can see is the sheer emptiness of the large room, the abandoned couch, the sheer lack of green. Where are they, where are they?

He scans the room, frantic, before his eyes land on a familiar piece of metal, and it feels as though it’s been stabbed through his stomach.

It rests in the middle of the floor, abandoned, almost taunting him.

Silence steals the room for a moment, and all Donnie can hear is his own elevated heartbeat.

Slowly, he approaches the sword, as if it’ll vanish. Dropping to his knees, he grabs the handle, lifting his twin’s odachi, resting the blade in his opposite palm. Flipping it in his grasp, a shuddering pain leaves his lips at the sight of blood.

He hears a voice, but it’s muffled, lost on him. Red traps his vision, two drops sliding down his reflection, edging closer to the tip of the blade.

Is this some fucked up calling card? Ransom note?

The air is sucked from his lungs and his vision shakes, and all he can see is red. Red takes any and every ounce of clarity and leaves him with nothing but quaking panic. There are tears hitting the blade before he realizes they are coming from him, and he curls in on himself.

Squeezing his eyes shut, he grips the blade, feeling the sharpness cut into the palm of his right hand. Something grips it, forcing his fingers to unclench before there’s more red.

He still can’t breathe. There’s a light pressure on his shoulder and in his hand different from the comfort of his battle shell, something familiar but so far away, and a fire burns deep in his stomach before he can finally pull in a single gasp of air.

The pressure in his hand leaves and he finds himself grasping for it, a desperate sound leaving his throat as the contact returns.

The hand in his grounds him, and the unusually quiet logical part of his brain whispers: use this to find them.

Opening his eyes, the blurry figure of April greets him. Her hand hesitates, feather light on his shoulder, as if asking permission. She had been speaking, asking questions, but he must have missed it all.

“Is this okay?” She asks, glancing at her hands on him, gentle, ready to move at a single word.

Please don’t let go, he wants to say, but his mouth fails him.

Leaning over, he rubs his cheek against her knuckles as they grip his shoulder more firmly.

She smiles, gentle as ever. “I’m sorry, I asked before but you… didn’t hear me and I got worried.”

He grips her hand in return, hoping she knows how much he appreciates her. Another deep breath, and he’s glancing back down at the sword. A second breath, and he’s forming a plan.

Before the blood can drip off the blade, he shifts it, holding it horizontal. He can use this. Emotions still overwhelm him, bubbling up and out, but with each breath he takes, logic steps in with a plan.

Test the blood. Track the other weapons. Find them and bring them home.

Assuming this is Leo’s blood, he can get some insight on if anything was in his system prior and how long this blood has been in the open air.

If it’s someone else’s, he can find out whose. Which is what Donnie hopes for, for a handful of reasons. One being he can track down said person who did… whatever it is they have done to his brothers, and the second being it’s not Leo’s. Please let it not be Leo’s.

Anger builds, taking place beside his fear.

His hands still shake and his heart still stutters in his chest, but he has a course of action.

And hell to pay.

Chapter Text

The first thing he feels is an aching buzz that fills his limbs, almost like the static one feels when their leg falls asleep, except this time the static is a constant throb that can’t be shaken out.

The second thing he feels is a rumbling all along his side, stomach and face; a constant rolling, almost a comforting white noise, if it weren’t for the fact Mikey didn’t remember how he got… wherever he was. Why is the floor moving? His left shoulder feels warm, resting against something rising and falling gently.

Mikey’s eyelids remain heavy, refusing to open. Confusion almost overwhelms him before he takes a steadying breath.

Just breathe, Mikey, Leo’s voice echoes in his mind. Breathe with me, you’re alright.

One more breath in, and he’s focused. Attempting to assess himself and his location without vision, he takes stock of what he can hear and feel.

Okay.

First off, pain. His whole body hurts, he knows that much. The ache burns in his chest, branching off through his limbs and the back of his skull. It doesn’t feel like he has any open wounds so that’s a good sign.

Okay next, the floor. It’s moving which is…strange, and his head is very fuzzy. He can’t remember how he got here. The last he remembers, he was on some kind of patrol with his brothers. Pushing the rising anxiety away, he forces himself to continue.

Listening to the familiar rumble, it sounds kind of like the turtle tank. He also hears muffled voices from the front end, as well as clinking metal.

He must be in the tank then, maybe he got hurt on a mission? Why can’t he just remember?

His shoulders ache a different type of ache from the rest of his body. He moves to lift himself off the shaking floor and relieve the tension in his shoulder blades, but something stops him at the wrists. Confusion floods his mind even more than before, and he forces his eyes open.

A blurry grey floor meets him, not clearing up his location to his muddled mind whatsoever. It’s fuzzy, so not the turtle tank, but still a vehicle?
Tugging at his wrists again, he feels cold, thick metal bands around them, and his throat constricts.

Shit, shit, shit!

Panic washes over him like a cold shower, waking him up immediately. He leans forward trying to get his feet below him without his hands, scraping his cheek across the floor and bumping his shoulder into a familiar shell next to him. He freezes, his attempt failing, but he can’t bring himself to notice, the realization that Raph is here too washing it away.

A selfish part of him wants to be happy he’s not alone, but he really wishes Raph wasn’t here right now.

Mikey finds the courage to look to his left, fear building at the sight of his oldest brother unconscious, sporting similar metal bands on his wrists, elbows and ankles.

“R…Raph?” Mikey leans forward, resting his head gently on the smooth parts of his brother's shell, noting the smudged red and orange paint as it rises and falls, lifting Mikey with it.

Today was supposed to be okay. They were gonna go to the mall and watch movies, and Mikey still needs to paint Donnie’s shell. His vision blurs. What went wrong?

Oh.

The memories in Mikey’s mind click together.

The rooftop, the pink hair, and the flash of pain.

She hurt Raph.

Hot anger swirls in Mikey’s stomach, briefly choking his anxiety, and he growls deep, sitting up.

Rolling onto his back and hands, he pushes himself up into a seated position. They’re getting out of here. He doesn’t care how, he’s finding a way out. Pulling his legs into his shell, he rolls back, bringing his arms under and around, so his cuffed hands are in front.

Mikey finds himself in a large room, the gutted bedroom of an RV by the looks of it. The vehicle is not as big as the turtle tank, but still large and techy. This isn’t really important to him though, as he spots his other brother on the other side of the room.

He didn’t see any visible injuries on Raph, but Leo…

Kneeling in front of his brother, a sob finally leaves Mikey’s throat, hands hovering over Leo’s resting face. Blood stains his mask and face, blurring the lines of his stripes. His jaw and neck are bruised, and his wrist is clearly broken, yet still trapped in cuffs. Dried tear tracks run down his brother's blood splattered cheeks, and Mikey’s rage burns deep.

His mind settles on two things. He’s kicking someone’s ass, and he’s taking his brothers home.

Vision blurry and bones aching, Mikey stands, making his way to the door separating them from the driver’s cab. The metal door separating him from their captors lacks a handle, but Mikey didn’t plan on using it anyway. Raising his connected hands, he slams the cuffs down on the exposed spindle. He hears the voices on the other side stop as he slams down again, denting the metal. One last swing, and the spindle falls, exposing the lock mechanism, to which Mikey quickly shatters with a solid kick to the door. The cuffs around his wrists protest, the middle severely dented but still intact.

The wooden door frame cracks as the metal door hangs off its hinges, exposing the front cab of the tech RV. A shocked face greets him from a small table, another from the passenger seat a few feet ahead.

An icy glare pierces him from the rear view mirror, and he moves.

The boy at the bolted down table stands, Mikey easily shoving him back into seat as he moves past.

The other one scrambles from his seat into the back, reaching for a gun resting against the wall. He grabs it, shakily pointing it at the raging turtle, before it’s deftly snatched from his hand. Before he can blink, the butt of the gun is being slammed into his own jaw.

He hits the floor, and his friend recovers, leaving the table and leaping onto Mikey’s back. With the gun still in one hand, he reaches over, grabbing a bundle of fabric and tossing the boy into the front, denting the dashboard and shaking the RV.

Pained groans echo around him as he steps over the first boy, eyes on his target.

Kendra growls, slamming her hands onto the steering wheel, before standing.

“Jason, take the wheel!”

The boy upfront scrambles off the floor and around the passenger seat to the steering wheel as Kendra steps back. Before Mikey can take the wheel from Jason, a force to his chest launches him back towards the door. He’s in the air for a moment, losing hold on the gun, before he feels his shell crack on the table, shattering it beneath him.

Silence falls over the vehicle, the muffled sound of wheels on tarmac the only noise cutting through.

Mikey sits up slow, hot tears dripping, with a look of utter hatred across his features.

“Stay down,” Kendra threatens, gloved hand still held in front of her. There’s an arrogance in her voice that he can’t stand.

Mikey’s hands clutch the split wood, cracking what’s left of the table. He lifts himself into a crouch slowly.

“Fuck you…” Pure venom leaks through his voice, catching Kendra off guard.

Before she can think, the turtle is charging her.

An elbow slams into her jaw, knocking her off balance, electricity pulsing off the glove. She reaches blindly, attempting to lay a single finger on the boy, but he avoids her touch.

Jeremy scrambles up and away from the dueling teens, seeking safety near the table and booth. He glances around the plush seat, observing the fight between turtle and leader.

“FUCK,” Mikey screams, another punch to her jaw. “YOU!” Kendra’s legs are swiped from under her, back crashing into the floor.

The glove prototype discharges, a concussive blast slamming into the wall and door of the speeding RV. Mikey dodges, sidestepping the charge. Jeremy ducks, watching wide eyed as cracks form along the wall, glowing cracks, stretching and spreading towards the ceiling. Jason glances back, wide eyed, feeling the vehicle shake through his seat and the floor.

Wood splinters and metal groans, the door finally giving in and falling away, leaving open space between them and the speeding yellow lines of open road.

Wind blows inside the RV, dragging loose papers and small items away into the slipstream. The conscious passengers attempt to stabilize themselves, avoiding debris and grabbing bolted furniture. Mikey looks towards the back of the vehicle where his resting brothers are, one side of him hoping they are alright, the other hoping for some backup.

“Shit!” Jason screams from the front, looking back towards the road, before the vehicle is taking a sharp left turn, groaning and lurching to the side. Mikey falls, clawing for purchase as Kendra lands hard, a cry leaving her lips as her shoulder hits the table. She slides a bit, before snagging the edge of a chair and holding tight. Jeremy is less lucky, rolling towards the gaping hole in the wall.

He screams, and Mikey moves.

Yeah, Mikey’s pissed, but he doesn’t want some random kid to fall out of a moving vehicle. Hell, it’s Kendra he wants to strangle.

The turtle slides, letting the momentum carry him to the door. As Jeremy crosses the RV’s threshold into open air, Mikey grasps his arm with his still cuffed hands, planting himself with his legs against either side of the splintering wall.

Mikey pulls, fighting against the wind and momentum, and he wishes he had paid more attention to Donnie’s rants about physics.

Jeremy fumbles, grappling for purchase against the weak wall. Mikey pinches his eyes shut and heaves, pulling the boy against the wind and back into the vehicle as it evens out, causing the boys to roll across the carpeted floor.

The vehicle is silent once again, passengers struggling to gather their bearings. Mike glances back at the pink haired girl, eyes growing cold as she struggles to roll over. His gaze returns to the shaking boy next to him.

Both teens take a second to recover before Mikey helps Jeremy to his feet, and away from the opening.

Jeremy’s mind is scrambled, having never experienced such a close call with his life before. Shaking hands reach up, grasping at his hair and trying to get his breath under control. He glances up, seeing the hard eyes of the turtle in front of him, cuffed hands hovering close by, but still defensive. His eyes are shifty, glancing back towards the pink haired girl and the boy before him.

He just saved his life. Even though he is the reason the turtle is here.

A lump forms in his throat as he stares at the turtle, trying to understand why. Why didn’t he just jump out? Why did he save him? He could be free.

“I-“

I’m the one who shot you.

The turtle’s eyes turn towards him for a full second. Jeremy’s eyes glimpse pink hair behind the teen, dragging him out of his thoughts, and a rock drops in his stomach. That’s what she was waiting for.

“Wait, n-“

The turtle turns, fast on his feet, knocking away the gun aimed for him, before Kendra pushes her other hand into his plastron.

A strange glowing wave consumes the orange ninja, his body stiffening, before his eyes roll back and he goes limp.

Leaping forward, Jeremy catches the boy, taking in a shaky breath at how small he is in his arms. With wide eyes, he watches his leader glower, not an ounce of sympathy behind those dull eyes.

She steps away, returning to the front of the vehicle, cradling her injured arm close. Jeremy is left behind, the wind drowned out by the blood rushing in his ears.

They’re on the wrong side.

Chapter Text

The blood is Kendra’s.

Donnie stares at the screen, processing this fact for the fifth time. The relief was drowned out by cold anxiety for his brothers. They don’t know Kendra is an inch from insane, not like he does.

On one hand, it’s not his brother's blood. On the other hand, it’s Kendra’s, and his brothers are still missing.

April stands next to him, echoing his feelings on the matter.

She remembers their scarce interactions in school freshman and sophomore year. Luckily, she’s been able to get away from them, their classes differing due to career paths. A passing glance of the group is all April has to suffer now, and even that is too much.

Why would she be upset with the other three? Donnie, she could understand, as much as what they’ve done to him angers her. He doesn’t deserve it of course, but she knows they don’t like him and want his tech. The boys haven’t even really interacted with the Dragons, so why would she lure Donnie away and the boys to her? All she cares about is tech, and no offense to her brothers, but they don’t exactly know tech like Don does.

“What does she want with them?” April mumbles, eyes drifting across the lab as she begins to pace. Anxiety has long since taken control of her body and there’s nothing that can shake it out, nothing but the safety of the trio.

Her words fall on deaf ears as Donnie’s wide eyes stare at nothing at all, lost in thought. His mind is full of scenarios, of possibilities, of what he’s going to find when he sees his brothers again.

It’s him. It’s his fault.

Kendra hates him, absolutely despises anything he does. When she failed to use him for his tech, he became enemy number one. There were signs of her being a bit… off, beyond the standard entitled teen, but he never thought it would result in anything worse than the mech.

The desk creaks as his grip tightens on the edge, mystic energy itching at his palms. The sound pulls his eyes down to his askew desk, papers and keyboard adrift from when he threw Leo’s odachi onto it. His eyes find the familiar stickers his baby brother loves, bright colors dancing around the cartoony little faces of his brothers.

The stickers that sometimes find their way onto his battle shells when he isn’t looking, the colorful markers scribbling in the corners of his blueprints. It was no secret who the guilty party would be, each brother incapable of not using their namesake color. Most often he’d see blue and orange, but red loved to sneak in too, making little hearts and encouraging words.

Donnie’s lip finds its way between his teeth for the tenth time in two minutes, and he finally tastes copper, the tang reaching him before the grounding pain. A warmth builds in his eyes before a hot rage takes him, and purple flashes below his hands, vaguely saw like, cutting two jagged lines through his desk.

April stops pacing, but Donnie barely notices as he feels the cold coil coupled with his hot anger. The elevated heartbeat, his sweaty palms. The aching burn to scream and hit something, to panic and hide.

He’s scared.

What is Kendra going to do to them?

What has she already done?

Fear and anger fight inside him, freezing him in place.

The sheer silence in his home is horrible, and the lack of their presence leaves him hollow. He thinks of how often he pushes them out of his lab, yelling about them ruining something or not wanting them there, but their presence, just knowing they’re home is enough. Knowing they’re safe is enough.

He’d give anything for Leo to run in and break something, for Mikey to slide a drawing under the door, for Raph’s confused expressions.

A childish urge cuts through him, something he hasn’t felt so strongly since he was little, having nightmares about beach balls and getting lost. When the worst he had to worry about was whether he got to play the hero or not, or when Mikey first learned to skate. Going to bed alone for the first time, claiming it’s what he wanted, that he was a big turtle now and that means sleeping on his own.

It hits him so strongly, he recoils, curling into himself, head hitting the desk.

He wants his brothers.

Cool metal against his forehead keeps him from floating away any further. Donnie forces a calming breath in and out, Raph’s voice instructing him on how long to hold, how long to release.

He is terrified of what could be happening to them right now, but fear won’t get him results. He needs to focus.

One last breath and he stands straight, eyes returning to the damning results on the screen. Metal arms reach for discarded keyboards, immediately getting to work on programming an entirely new tracker, while a green hand grabs the lone sword on the table.

“S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N., how close are we to tracking mystic signatures?”

“Less than half an hour, bro.”

Not soon enough. “Get Leo’s odachi signature translated and coded, I need to pick up the general energy to target the other two.”

“On it.”

Donnie’s eyes meet April’s concerned ones, and she is overwhelmed by the sheer amount of everything hidden in them, expertly concealed by steely determination. Anyone who didn’t know Donnie wouldn’t see the fear, but April ain’t anyone.

As quickly as their gaze meets it’s gone again, back to the imposing screen, dancing with endless codes and numbers. She couldn’t dream of understanding what it means, but her faith in Donatello isn’t something to be questioned.

The feeling of uselessness nibbles at her before she stomps it down, deep, burying it below protectiveness and rage. Like hell she’s useless.

“Hey S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N.?”

“Yes, April?”

“Get me my bat.”

Chapter Text

Jason couldn’t remember a time in his life he’d been so conflicted.

There had been a time when Kendra seemed so… reliable, focused. She’d never been overly kind, but she gave him and Jeremy the time of day when no one else had. A chance to work to their strengths rather than be put down for it. She defended them when it mattered, and pushed them to their limits to reach goals they never thought they’d achieve.

But now…

Now all he sees is a sickening obsession.

Any good she’d had was long gone. There was only the desire for destruction, no matter who or what she took with her.

He thought maybe she’d been right at one point. Reality was harsh, and to survive you had to fight back.

But this?

Nothing about today has been okay.

He shot someone today. Maybe not with anything lethal, but he’d hurt someone today.

And for what?

Everything is a blur after the orange one’s escape attempt. Kendras voice barks orders, but it’s all a muffled mess.

In the end, he finds himself in their hideout, and he’s hit with staggering clarity.

He used to be so excited to come down here and build, create, find loopholes for difficult tasks. It used to be a warm and vibrant place where he had no limits.

Now it’s just cold and clinical, and reeks of blood.

Now he just wants to run and never look back.

He forces himself back down the steps one final time, hollow eyes following the trail of red across the floor. The same red that coats his hands, sticky and darkening.

This never should’ve happened. It never should’ve gone this far. Yeah, they’d hurt the purple one, made a big mech, but seeing the destruction through a screen was nothing like this.

It was nothing like feeling the blood worm its way into the creases of his hands, staining his sleeves and the tips of his shoes.

And after everything, Kendra shows no signs of stopping.

If anything, she seems energized, excited, like she’s finally getting what she’s always wanted.

Jason turns and exits the room before she can lock on his presence. He finds himself in the bathroom, and the mirror taunts him, begging him to look up.

He refuses.

Why, why has he held onto this relationship for so long?

She berated him, both of them, constantly. She took their inventions and used them for hurt, claiming it was for a good end goal, and they believed her. Any time they expressed doubt or discomfort, she’d remind them of their hope for a future. If they just got that purple turtle’s tech, they could be rich. They’d no longer be at rock bottom, no longer be losers. They’d be happy.

But it was never true.

She wants control, and she’s going to get it no matter what price she has to pay.

He’d thought maybe if he was in her good graces, she’d leave him be, protect him, maybe even be a friend to him.

But deep down, Jason knows. He’s always known he’d be a target too.

The blood on his hands seems ever present, even after he’s scrubbed his hands raw under burning water.

She wouldn’t hesitate to throw him under the bus over the smallest inconvenience.

Maybe she’d never been his friend.

Maybe she’d never been good.