Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Donatello rummaged through the scrap yard, looking for new parts for Shelldons upgrades. He could hear the distant chatter of his brothers in the turtle tank, his cuff being unmuted in case Raph needed him to check in. He couldn't hear much other than the sharp clank of the metal landing on other pieces of metal as he set aside the useless material. He murmured to himself as he did so, listing off what things could be salvageable as he simultaneously hummed notes to a song he was listening to on his phone. He danced a bit, mindlessly doing a few moves here and there. He hadn't noticed the faint footsteps of something approaching his destination over the music and the chatter. Or if he had, he just tuned it out.

The footsteps grew closer, closer, closer. They became louder, louder, louder. But when the softshell had finally noticed the sounds, it had been too late.

He struggled and fought against the attacker, but to no avail. His efforts grew futile as his bō was knocked from his grip by swift hands. His battle shell had been compromised by a quick stab of an unknown object. Soon he was left defenseless, and clueless as to where the attacker was. He quickly hit the panic button, beginning to sprint towards the exit to the scrap yard. The sound of his panicked brothers yelling and scrambling around would have been heard, had he not completely tuned them out above the ever growing sounds of quick footsteps. He didn't look back, he couldn't look back. Looking back meant harm, looking back meant vulnerability. 

Looking back meant death .

He suddenly felt his chin hit the ground with a sickening smack! He was left dazed and confused, groaning in discomfort as he attempted to sit up. He was held down by what felt like a foot on his carapace, suddenly the sounds of his brothers returning as he froze in terror.

"Hello there, turtle. . ." The menacing voice of the attacker spoke, leaning down so their head was almost beside his own. "Seems I've caught myself quite the dancer, this'll be fun." They chuckled, before letting out an annoyed sigh at the cuff. They grimaced, removing the cuff rather aggressively before throwing it to the side. "Seems I got lucky catching the least annoying one."

Donnie hadn't heard much after the 'hello there, turtle. . .' part, everything was beginning to grow tuned out by a loud ringing in his ears. His eyes had shrunk to pinpricks by now, body tense and unmoving out of fear.

He'd been caught. . .

He's gonna die—

"—onnie!"

He's a goner—

"—on— ie!!"

They're gonna be so disappointed—

"Do- ie an- er!!"

Crunch!

—————

Ugh. . . Where am I. . ? He thought with a groan, blinking the blurriness from his eyes and looking around. He went to move his limbs, but felt a sudden searing pain in them. He soon realized,

He was unable to move.

As a matter of fact, he was also unable to see. It was dark, pitch black. Why can't I move-? Where am I? He thought, panic quickly rising. It only worsened as he found out he wasn't protected by his shell or armour. Where are the others. . ? Am I even awake? No that's dumb of course I'm awake. How else would I be able to feel—

It started up again, and instead of seeing black, his vision went white. He shrieked, feeling his limbs begin to move against his will. He was blinded by a bright light as soon as his vision returned, blinking a few times before he was able to see just where he was. 

A stage. . .

He locked eyes with a particular person, the only person, in the room. They sat in the front row of seats, grinning maliciously. "I see you're finally awake. I started to think you'd. . Given up."

"W- what did you do to me-? Why- Why can't I move?! WHAT DID YOU DO?!"

"There are metal rods in your joints, however they aren't ordinary metal rods. They allow me to control your movements with this remote. Just. Like. A. Puppet." The captor sneered. "Just try and move on your own. You'll tear right through your nerves and muscles in seconds. Even worse, you'll tear right through a few arteries as well."

Donnie's eyes went to pinpricks, breathing abruptly stopping with just how horrified he was to hear it.

"Sadly, I couldn't really do much with your head without killing you, so you do have free will there." They sighed.

"SADLY?! What do you mean sadly?!"

"Well, it's rather unfortunate your performances will be. . Tainted with your insufferable mumbling and annoying screaming. Not to mention the constant moving of your head other than what is rehearsed."

". . What do you mean rehearsed?"

"Oh! I haven't told you. . Have I?"

"I just woke up, and the first thing you told me was how you turned me into a damn doll." He deadpanned.

"Ah, yes. Well, I'm surprised your smart little brain hasn't pieced it together yet. The stage, the auditorium, the dance position you hold, the puppetification. . ." 

"You're. . Gonna make me- perform. . ?" He guessed.

"Bingo! There's that smart little puppet I saw at the scrap yard!"

"Honestly. . Unwillingly living the theater kid dream doesn't sound as bad as I thought it would go." At least I'm not being used as a murder puppet or something. . .

"That's the spirit, now, performance is on in twenty! See you soon." They left, the curtains being pulled closed and the room—now recognized as the stage—going dark again.

—————

"Donnie!" Raph called, looking around the scrap yard. The three had split up around the yard, careful not to be caught by repo. (Even if they were under temporary alliance for a while)

"Donnie!" Mikey worriedly looked around, scanning the perimeter.

"Yo Don Tron!" Leo yelled, glancing around the mountains of materials that lay scattered about. All he saw were cars, rusty train spikes, broken videogame consoles, Donnie's battle shell, a few broken T.V.'s. . .

Wait—

Donnie's battle shell— He thought frantically, sprinting towards it and sliding on his knees beside it. He wordlessly picked it up, noting the new scratches along the back and shoulder-rests. He glanced over, spotting the goggles and bō. . . He had to force himself not to sob, scrambling over and picking up the discarded pieces of tech. "GUYS!! GET OVER HERE!" He screeched, holding the things close. Tears swelled in his eyes, threatening violently to spill over if he saw anything worse.

"Leo did you find—" Raph cut himself off, taking in the scene in front of him. "Leo. . ?"

"He- he's. . He's gone—" Leo's voice broke, looking up as the tears finally began to flow.

"Don. ." Mikey came up beside the slider, resting a hand on his shoulder and sitting down.

Raph sighed, Sitting in front of the two and pulling them in for a hug. "It's okay. . We're gonna get 'im back, promise." He said, unsure if it was just to reassure his brothers, or possibly himself, too.

—————

Agonizing. . Agonizing was the best word, not searing, not excruciating. .

Agonizing .

My limbs. . I can feel each muscle tear, each tendon snap, each bone rub against the oddly warm metal. . . I'm moving, not at my will. But at the commands of another. I'm being controlled and used. I'm a doll, a figure, a puppet . Stop watching me. . Why did I have to be so- so- weak? Why couldn't I be like my brothers. . ? They're strong, they're fast, they've got natural armor, they don't need all the extra protection. I said stop watching me— All I had was a stupid metal stick and a back shield I shouldn't even have. I'm supposed to be a turtle, so why don't I have a shell like theirs? Why did Draxum have to choose a softshell, of all terrapins? 

Click.

Shift.

Scream.

Ow- ow ow ow!! Make it stop- when will this END?! I can just feel the internal bleeding that's bound to occur— am I going to die? How long will it take for this to kill me? Where even am I? When will the others be here? OW!! Stop watching me— stop it— no no, you- you horrible beings! How is this enjoyable?! Watching a life form that hasn't even done anything to you being practically tortured and subjected to such agony for your entertainment?! Why. . ? Why are humans so cruel. . . ? Why- why is my body going numb. . ? That's not supposed to happen— Raph. . Mikey. . April. . ?

Leo. . . ?

. . .

I want to go home. . .

Chapter Text

"Alright, so the last thing we heard of Donnie was when he was fightin' the person. So we just have to find his cuff and see where he was last. Maybe there's a trail?" Raph suggested.

"Sure, because a villain who wanted to kidnap our brother because he danced well is going to leave a trail for us to find him. Smart idea Raph." Leo deadpanned. "What's it gonna be? A trail of music notes? Some ballet shoes? A backstage pass to SIX the musical??"

"Leo we don't-"

"No. . A trail of footsteps!" Mikey exclaimed.

"What? No they aren't that- oh my God a trail of footsteps."

Raph followed their gaze, noticing the rough tracks. His eyes ended up drifting over to an odd pile of suspiciously shiny silvery metal, walking over and picking it up before freezing up in horror. "Eh- guys-?"

"Yeah?"

"What, did you find something?"

"I found Donnie's. . " He turned, showing the crushed device.

"His cuff!" The two yelped, scrambling over and examining the tech.

"Shit so that's why he cut out-"

"Yeah-" Raph nodded.

"Wait, didn't the person say something about him being 'quite a dancer' or something?" Mikey questioned.

"Yeah. . ?"

"So that means he must be in some sort of dance studio!"

"Why would he be in a dance studio?" Leo cocked an eyebrow ridge in suspicion.

"Why wouldn't he be? They wouldn't have said something about him being a dancer If they weren't gonna take him to some sort of dance studio!" Mikey countered.

"What if they were just mocking him?!" Leo snapped.

"Guys, stop it! We don't have time for this!" Raph butted in. "Leo, I get you're stressed but hear him out! Mikey could be right, I mean, it doesn't hurt to try."

"But what if it's all for nothing?"

"What if it's not?"

. . . .

"Fine." Leo turned, walking over to the other pieces of discarded tech and snatching them before making his way towards the turtle tank.

The other two followed wordlessly.

"We need to map out every dance studio and theater in the city. Mike, you okay with doing that?" Leo turned to face the youngest, standing just before the entrance to the tank.

"Yeah-" He nodded, running into the vehicle.

"Raph,"

"Yeah?"

"Can you drive?"

"Yeah, yeah I can." He nodded.

"Good, I'm gonna locate everything and give them to Mike so he can map it out, until we are done we can just drive around the city and see if there's any possibility he's around here."

"Got it."

The two nodded in acknowledgement before practically leaping into the tank, taking their positions and rolling out.

------

"Hello there, turtle." The puppeteer grinned, walking up to a gracefully posed Donnie. "Did you enjoy that show? It was more. . Colourful- than anticipated, though. You could have waited 'till after the performance to do that" They sighed.

"F- fuck you. ." He rasped.

"But alas, the crowd did quite like the performance nonetheless. They assumed that was part of the show, apparently deciding that was showing the progression and intensity of dancing. Or something of the sort." They moved their hand, as if to wave something off as they talked. "Heh. . Who knew blood would be so entertaining to the public. I suppose I'd have to keep that in mind. ."

"W- why- why are my feet g- going. . Stiff?"

"Oh, I must have forgotten one teensy-tiny detail-" They grinned. "No I'm just kidding, I've been lying to you about the whole 'rods in your limbs' thing the entire time. While yes, there are rods embedded in your joints, they aren't just any old rods."

"Wh- what are they- Then. . ?"

"One of my. . Colleagues, gave them to me. Said they were from some sort of 'mystic city' or something." They chuckled. "But of course, that's ridiculous. There's no such thing. Although I did decide to test them out nonetheless. And it seems they work wonderfully!"

"S- so-?"

"So you're becoming a puppet. Just like I had planned." They giggled. "But it's okay, you won't be alone or anything-at least not for long-because I'll be getting the others as well!"

"W- what?! No-!" He yelped, coughing a little after as a spray of purple erupted from his mouth.

"Awww, that's too bad for you. What are you going to do about it little softshell? It's not like you could just come after me, not unless you want your limbs to be turned into paper shreds."

The softshell scowled, expression quickly dropping to one akin to horror as he felt his feet completely stiffen, almost feeling wood-like. He could feel his joints changing, the limbs around them beginning to grow stiffer as well. 

"Well, I suppose I'll leave you to it, have fun puppet. Our next show is in about three hours." They grinned, trotting off and leaving him in darkness yet again.

------

"Leo, is that all of them?" Mikey questioned, a red marker in hand and a map laid out in front of him.

"No, there's about three more for you to put down." He shook his head, pointing to a monitor and beginning to mumble to himself.

"Raph? Anything?" Mikey craned his neck to look at the snapper.

"Nothin' yet bud. . ."

"Oh. . . If only Don were here- He'd know what to do. ." Mikey murmured, slumping back down to the paper.

"Yeah well he isn't." Leo snapped, venom placing his tone. "He's gone and so far we're not getting any leads because this damn city just has to keep growing." He threw his hands up in exasperation, clenching his fists and dropping them to his sides.

Growing. .  A- and growing— and growing. . Pretty soon we won't be able to even navigate this place which means—

"Sorry-" The box turtle sunk into his shell a bit.

"I- Nevermind, Raph where are we now?"

"Eh, we're at thirty-fourth street. Just past Albearto's Pizza." The snapper replied.

"Good, we'll head to this street's theater first. It's the closest and one of the largest." The slider stated.

"Got it." Suddenly the tank jolted forward, Raph having pressed the gas pedal slightly harder and speeding the vehicle up.

------

My legs. . What- what happened to my legs. . . ? They're wood- I can't feel the floor anymore? But why can I still feel the rods in my joints? My fingers- no my fingers, they're completely- Nonono. . No what is happening?! Where are the others?! WHERE ARE THEY?!?

Click.

Shift.

Scream

STOP IT-! PLEASE IM BEGGING!! LEO! RAPH! MIKEY!? SOMEONE!!

Click.

Shift.

Shift.

Click.

Scream

Chapter Text

"C'mon. . . There's four theaters left, maybe- maybe we could finish with them and-"

"Leo, we have to take a break. Mikey already fell asleep, April's getting worried because we aren't textin' back, and pops still doesn't even know where we are." Raphael stated, resting a hand on the slider's shoulder.

"No- no just- just a few more please- Please Raph- He could be hurt. . What if- what if he is in one of the places-? What- what if-"

"Leo. . ."

"No! We can't just leave him, like you said, Mikey could be right! What if he is at one of them? What if they're about to move soon?!"

". . . Fine. We'll check two more, but after that we're taking a break."

"Deal-"

"I'll start drivin'. ."

------

If he calculated right (which he had), it was ten minutes 'till the next performance. And if he was calculating right. . About 1 hour until the puppetification would be complete. (Give or take)

By this point all four limbs had been solidified in wood and metal, his torso beginning to shift into said doll-like form. He swears that, underneath the pain from his joints and the fiery anguish of his limbs, he could distantly feel his insides shift. Seeming to rearrange to fit the correct dimensions of his puppetification. Thankfully, since most of his organs didn't have pain receptors, it was nothing more than just shifting feelings. . For the organs, that is. He could feel his muscles stiffen, his nerves and tendons practically going numb with pain as they conformed to the new build. His eyes, he had noticed, took on an eery pink glow. As if to represent the mysticism used within the rods.

Or as a further mockery to his image. 

—————

"Alright Leo, we checked the two theaters like we agreed. They aren't there, let's just go home and rest up for a little."

"But—"

"Leo, I'm sure they wouldn't leave so soon. We can check tomorrow." He assured, resting a hand on the sliders shoulder. "We need sleep."

Suddenly, Leo's phone began buzzing, startling the two before Leo promptly yanked it from his fanny pack.

"Yeah pops??" Leo asked eagerly, maybe Donnie had made it home?

"Boys! Why is purple on T.V.?"

"What? What do you mean he's on T.V.?!"

"He's on the theater channel! I just wanted to watch my shows! Though I must say, I didn't know he could dance so well."

"WHAT?! Raph step on it now! I guess we are going home afterall!"

"On it!" He slammed his foot on the gas, promptly jolting the tank forward and speeding down the street towards the correct manhole cover.

The two barged in, Raph carrying a still somehow sleeping Mikey.

"Where?! Let me see!" Leo practically screamed, sprinting into the living room and in front of the T.V.

A deafening silence washed over the lair, Leo's eyes widening with horror as his ears began ringing uncontrollably loud. Wh- What the hell. . ?

He spotted his twin up on stage, the camera zoomed in to show the full performance. His face was. . Petrified, to say the least. A clear look of agony washing over him as his limbs moved. They were stiff, yet somehow graceful movements, as if to tell some sort of story. The slider hadn't known, nor cared what the story was, just that there was an oddly familiar purple liquid spraying from the softshell's mouth every once in a while. The same liquid trickling down his jaw and onto his plastron. The drops were all over the stage, as if it was sprayed with a Windex bottle over, and over. His eyes held an odd pink glow, as if there was a neon pink glowstick behind his iris. His arms and legs seemed to have- well- seams, at the joints. They had an odd texture, with faint lines like a sanded down plank. His colour seemed dulled out in those same areas, too. Like it was a completely different material than the rest of his form. It was creeping up his plastron and sides, as if the final destination was meant to be the head.

"Pops- pops which theater was that??" Leo turned quickly, startling the rat.

"Er. . I think the Shakespearean Crown theater?" He guessed. "Why?"

"Raph- Raph c'mon please he's right there! Please that's one of the only two we haven't checked!"

"Well, fine. But what're we gonna do about Mikey?"

"He's gonna have to stay here! We don't have time Raph let's go!"

"My son's, what is wrong? Is purple in trouble?"

"No time to explain! Just make sure Mikey stays here!" The Snapper called, following the Slider back towards the tank garage.

——————

"C'mon Raph! We gotta hurry, there's only twenty minutes left for the show!"

"Hold on Leo! I'm gettin' my tōnfas!" He whisper-yelled.

"I already have them, now c'mon!"

The two sprinted to the theater doors, noticing the guards up front and visibly wincing. They sighed, adjusting the poorly thrown together disguises they had put on during the drive (as well as hiding their weapons) and stepping in. Once they were in, they walked up to the ticket booth, buying the cheapest tickets there were and running to the auditorium.

Once the two arrived, they kicked the door open, causing most of the theater to jump and whip around in confusion.

"Alright, Raph. Game plan, need one."

"Don't look at me, you're the leader, bozo!"

"Damnit forgot about that— Let's just focus on grabbing Donnie and leaving. We'll worry about catching the stupid brother-napper later."

"Got it." He nodded, beginning his descent towards the stage.

Leo pulled out his ōdachi, creating a portal and jumping in. He landed in front of the stage, running to climb up before being stopped by Raph's large hand. He turned to face him, following where the snapper was pointing.

The puppeteer walked out, grinning as they stood beside the softshell almost-puppet. "Well hello, turtles. It seems you have scared off my viewers. . A shame."

"What did you do to Donnie?! What do you want with him!?" The slider snapped.

"Woah, one question at a time please." They snickered. "I simply. . Gave him a few alterations. He is fine, I assure you. . Probably."

"Don, Don C'mon why aren't you moving?" Raph noticed. "So what did you do to him?! Why isn't he moving?"

"Oh, yes that. . . I suppose it hasn't finished yet, has it?" They frowned. "He's my personal dancer! Don't worry he loves it, right little turtle?" They turned to the unmoving terrapin, pressing a button on the remote behind their back and causing the almost-puppets' limbs to jerk away from their original position. They pinned to his sides, his entire body unwillingly turning around to face the owner, standing straight and doing a small bow in "agreement".

The softshell's face looked nothing like they had said, in fact, it was the complete opposite. His teeth were clenched, fresh purple coating his lower jaw and down his neck. A few drops fell to the ground as he raised back up, eyes much shinier than usual. A clear liquid cascaded down his face as he attempted to hide the pain his face showed. He was fucking crying.

The two's eyes widened, unsure of what to say or do for a moment.

"Wh- Donnie? No. . no he doesn't love it! He's crying! He's in pain! You're hurting him!!" Leo snapped.

"Well, there has to be a few sacrifices for the peoples entertainment. Isn't that right, turtle?" They grinned, side-eyeing the softshell.

His body turned to face the other two against his will, and the most he could do was squeeze his eyes shut and nod slightly, quite literally unable to do anything else.

"See? He agrees. This was all apart of the show, anyway."

"Don—"

"Leave. ." He rasped, locking eyes with the two. His gaze shone of desperation and fear, and even worse, torment.

"What was that, puppet?" The owner cocked an eyebrow.

"L- leave! Leave N- now!!" He shrieked, throat burning like it had just been scraped raw and lit on fire. He suddenly felt his knees bend, one going behind him as if he was getting ready to leap. . .

"Tsk, tsk tsk little turtle. I didn't say you could do that, now did I?" They shook their head in disappointment, pressing the button again.

"Donnie what's going on?!" Leo questioned, stepping back.

"LEAVE DAMNIT!" He cried, involuntarily lunging at the slider. He narrowly missed, watching the slider duck and roll out of the way. He landed on all fours, body jerking into a stand and leaning back a bit. 

"No, Donnie! We are not leaving without you! Not when you're right here!" Raph butted in, running to try and grab the younger.

He dodged, rolling a few feet before jumping up stiffly. He abruptly turned, facing the duo. "Just- leave—" He practically whispered, squeezing his eyes shut and lowering his head to face the ground.

"Raph, you get crazy-face over there and I'll get Don!" The slider ordered, leaping into action before the latter could protest.

The softshell bent completely backwards to dodge the oncoming brother, the back of his head nearly grazing the floor with how unnaturally low he got. His body jerked into a stand again, leaping at the latter as if it had a mind of its own. 

Leo sidestepped, grabbing his ankle and yanking him back. He used a portal, promptly throwing the twin into it and catching him from an above portal. "Hey, what happened why are you— like this?"

"O- ow— Damnit. ." He murmured, turning his head to face the other. "M- mysticism. ." He stated, before feeling his knee collide with the sliders cheek. He was dropped onto his back with a loud thunk noise, as if it was a small log being dropped onto the carpeted floor.

He stumbled back, tripping and landing on some of the padded seats. He scrambled up, rubbing his face with a frown. "Ow! What was that for?!"

"I- it's not—" He was cut off, knees tucking to his chest and shooting out, causing him to spring to his wooden feet. "Me—"

"Well I mean technically it was, but whatever."

"L- Leo!" He growled, annoyed.

"Sorry, sorry! Geeze. ." He launched himself at the latter, suddenly feeling a foot slam into his side and being sent flying.

His body turned, facing the two fighting opponents on stage and beginning to run towards them. "Raph- RAPH!" He screeched, foot colliding with the side of the Snappers head before the other could even turn to face him.

"OW!" He yelped, stumbling to the side.

The puppeteer grinned, standing beside the softshell and resting a hand on his shoulder.

His head flinched away instinctively, eyes wide at what he had accidentally done to his brothers. "I—" He began, before feeling himself start to plummet. His vision went blue for a second, before it regained and he was on the carpeted floor again.

Leo grumbled something inaudible, wiping his face as a small droplet of blood fell from his mouth. "Damnit I bit my tongue, thanks alo—!" He went to yell at the puppeteer, mistakenly turning away from the softshell and receiving a swift punch to the jaw. He retaliated upon instinct, foot colliding with an unknown body part as he stumbled backwards into another row of seats.

The softshell screamed, stomach feeling as if it was on fire where he had been kicked.

"Shit- Don I'm—"

"JUST FUCKING LEAVE!!" He shrieked, purple liquid spraying from his mouth and onto the floor in front of him.

"No we aren't going home without y—"

"Can't you fucking hear me 'Nardo?! I'm not coming home!!"

. . . .

"Y- yes you are—"

"No, I'm not. ."

"Yes you are-!"

"No, no I'm not I can't I physically can't!" He wheezed, wet, hot tears streaming from his face and to the floor.

"Then- then we'll—" He trailed off, unknowing of what to say.

"And neither will you if you stay here dumb-dumb!! I've been trying to tell you. . ! Just fucking leave. . !"

Chapter Text

The four just stood in silence for a good few minutes, before a maniacal laughter sounded throughout the theater. "Wonderful show, puppet! I love the dramatics!"

The three turned to face them, Donnie more turning his head even though it began to feel stiff. 

"Wh—" The snapper was cut off, the theater doors bursting open with a loud bang noise.

Raph and Leo's heads snapped towards the entrance, spotting Mikey standing in the doorway. 

"Mikey!" The red and blue clads yelped.

"Ooo! I see the whole family is here!" The puppeteer smiled.

"Why did you two— Donnie!" He exclaimed, running towards the genius brother with a worried expression.

"Wait no Michael—!"

There was a crash as the youngest collided with the seats, the softshell standing on one foot with his leg and body horizontal. He had kicked him. . Into a row of seats. . .

"Mikey!" The others called, running towards him.

"How entertaining! Although I am quickly growing bored, return to me puppet."

He straightened again, turning and making his way towards the stage.

He groaned in discomfort, sitting up and shaking his head. His expression quickly dropped as he watched the older stiffly walk towards the puppeteer. "Donnie. . . ?"

The softshell stopped beside the puppeteer, unable to turn his gaze away as his neck was now completely solidified. 

"Three minutes, turtle. Have fun. ." They chuckled, pressing an unknown control on the remote and allowing him free will for the next three minutes.

His body relaxed slightly, slumping forward as his eyes widened in anguish. He screamed, hands stiffly making their way towards his face as screams became rasped shrieks, which became gurgled cries. His jaw completely shifted, bottom jaw snapping into three individual pieces as if to make a newer, smaller one. Those pieces solidified into wood, his upper jaw stiffening and one last spray of blood falling upon the stage. His eyes polished over, eyelids becoming stiff yet somehow still expressive. The pink glow never left his irises, actually seeming to glow brighter. He suddenly slumped slightly sideways. His knees bent inward, arms dropping limply to his sides and head lolling to the side. His cries quickly died out as one last stream of the purple blood trickled down the seam of his new jaw.

"Perfect! Absolutely wonderful performance!"

"What the hell did you just do?!" Leo screeched, running up towards the stage and to the twins side. He gently took the limp arms in his hands, rubbing his thumbs across his wooden knuckle joints. .

He felt cold. . . Unnaturally cold.

He dropped the appendages, startled. He took a step back, pupils pinpricks as he watched the arms drop back down with no resistance at all. They swayed a bit, like a small chain dangling from ones neck.

The other two went to go see as well, abruptly stopping as they saw the puppet's arm shoot up to the sliders neck.

The blue-clad wrapped his hands around the twins forearm, attempting to pull away from the tight grasp around his throat. He flinched his head back slightly as the wooden figure jerked it's head up, tilting it to the side and looking into his eyes with a blank stare. "D- Don—?" He choked out.

"Leo!" Mikey and Raph yelled, jumping up onto the stage and running towards the two.

The puppet snapped its head towards the duo, head tilting to the side and the arm holding Leo propping back. It tightened its grip for a second before throwing its arm forward, launching the slider right at the two.

They yelped, falling back as the blue-clad collided with their plastrons. The trio scrambled up after a moment of coughing and gasping from the brother.

The puppet simply stared at them, hunched forward and head tilted to the side. Its arms dangled limply in front of its legs, knees bent inward.

The puppeteer smiled, walking up beside it and placing a hand on its shoulder. "What a wonderful show."

"W- what the hell?!" Leo snarled, yanking his Ōdachi back out.

"What's wrong why is he like that?!" Mikey questioned fearfully.

"It's hard to explain Mike—"Raph started.

"How about I let you find out, little turtle?" They grinned, removing their hand from the puppets shoulder.

The doll promptly launched itself from its spot on the stage, directly at the box turtle with a wooden hand extended.

He squeaked and jumped out of the way, sending it crashing into the floor and tumbling a ways after.

It stood, eyelids lowering as if to narrow its eyes. It ran at him again, attempting to take down the younger quickly.

Without thinking, he quickly wrapped his kusari-fundo around it, swinging it directly at the puppeteer and watching as the two collided and crashed to the floor.

They ended up dropping the remote as they fell, sending it plummeting to the actual floor harshly. "Get off me you imbecile!!" They yelled.

The puppet just lay motionless, draped over their torso and pinning them down with its weight.

The snappers' eyes widened. "Leo! The remote!"

The slider nodded, leaping off the stage and snatching the remote up. He examined it, noticing the large crack from the top left to the middle button frame.

"Sorry Dee! I didn't mean—"

"It's fine Mikey don't worry!" Raph said sternly. The snapper ran to the duo laying upon the stage, picking the wooden turtle up gently and using his foot to keep the other pinned. 

The puppets' arms dangled like loose rope from a tree, legs doing the same as its head leaned back. Its glassy eyes stared blankly at the older, mouth hanging slightly agape.

The slider scrambled atop the stage, running over and kneeling beside the pinned stage owner. "Tell us how to fix him or else." He scowled, gesturing to the remote and the limp being within the snappers arms.

"Just give it to me and I'll show you." They grinned, reaching for the remote.

The slider held it just out of reach, gaze narrowing further. "No, tell. Us. Now."

"Fine. Although you wouldn't like it. ."

"Whatever, as long as he's okay." He stated.

"Well. . The rods—"

"What about them? What rods?"

"The rods within his joints, of course! How else did you think I managed to turn him into my own little stringless puppet?" They laughed. "They have to be. . surgically removed. Although I doubt you'd want to due to some. . Unfortunate side effects of them."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Well, if you take into account the times he's moved when he was specifically told not to, those times you sent him crashing into things, his continuous movements, the performances, I'd say his muscles are pretty shredded by now. And I doubt the internal bleeding is any better."

"Wh- what the— N- no. . you're lying!"

"Am I though?"

. . . .

"That's a risk we're willing to take as long as he isn't stuck like this for eternity." He scowled, standing and facing the snapper. "C'mon, we're heading home."

"But what about—"

"We'll worry about them later. . We have to get Dee out of— whatever this enchantment or curse is." He gestured vaguely to the remote and the puppet that once was his brother.

"Alright, Mikey, you okay?"

"Yeah I'm fine. I just wanna go home. ." He nodded.

"Alright, we will. Let's go." He began to walk, stepping off the theater owner and gently holding the once-genius.

Leo began to follow, getting about 10 feet before his Ōdachi was unceremoniously yanked from its sheath. He turned, accidentally dropping the remote as it shattered to pieces.

The softshell's eyes suddenly widened after a second or two, glow brightening before dissipating back into his usual grey and blue irises. 

The snapper softly gasped, gently setting him down on his back as he didn't know what else to do.

The slider hadn't noticed, instead focusing his attention at the blade that was being held to his throat.

The theater owner grinned maniacally, gripping the sword hilt tightly. "That wasn't such a great performance, blue one." They snickered.

The glossy look to his eyes started to disappear, him sitting up stiffly and turning his head towards where the remote had fallen. His gaze snapped up to look at the two others beside it, before his pupils went to pinpricks and he scrambled up.

The owner drew the blade back, readying for a swing at the slider with a cackle.

The blue-clad gasped lightly, instinctively blocking his face with his arms and squeezing his eyes shut. He stepped back a pace, hearing the sound of metal cutting through the air before a loud metallic clank sounded throughout the building. He opened his eyes, looking through the gap in hi arm and only seeing pale green. . 

Donnie's shell?

He lowered his arms, stepping back about three more places as his eyes widened.

Low and behold his twin stood, wooden hand to the throat of the owner and an Ōdachi blade stuck in his elbow joint. 

The two glared at each other for a solid minute, before the blade was abruptly ripped from the joint with a spark or two. The arm dropped to the stage loudly, not seeming to phase the softshell one bit. He just glared coldly, unmoving from his current position.

"D- Don. . ?" Leo said, taking a step forward.

The twin didn't acknowledge him, merely tightening his grip and slamming them into the stage with a sickening thud. He only let go when he knew they were knocked out cold.

The slider froze up, unknowing if he should move closer or not. He just looked down at the detached appendage and picked it up, examining it carefully.

The puppet-genius stood straight, turning to the twin with a blank expression.

He looked back, tears threatening to spill from his eyes as he held the arm firmly. "D- Don— That you-?"

He didn't respond verbally, only closing his eyes and giving a simple nod.

He smiled, running and leaping at the latter. He enveloped him in a tight hug, sobbing into his stiff wooden shoulder and absolutely refusing to let go. "You're back. . !" He sobbed uncontrollably.

There was only another simple nod in response.

"Donnie!" Mikey exclaimed happily, running up to the duo and joining in on the hug.

Raph smiled and followed, joining in as well and wrapping his arms around all three of them.

This is gonna hurt when the puppetifications' effects reverse, but that's a problem for later. (As in minutes from now)

He was back, and the others were safe.

Now the question is, how is April gonna react?

Chapter Text

"Can't we just give 'im anesthesia or pain meds??"

"And how do you suppose we do that, Raph?!"

"I dunno!"

"His body is completely wood! And natural structure of his insides are probably all sorts of fucked up!"

"Well how do we help 'im deal?"

"Hold him down."

"What? Wouldn't that—"

"So he doesn't hurt himself more. ."

A loud, horrifying clicking noise sounded throughout the med bay as both the molecular and physical structure of the softshell's face changed and shifted. He was a puppet, and therefore could not scream to relieve some of the pain that shot through his body in waves. He twitched and jerked uncontrollably, tears cascading down his face in large quantities. His jaw made awful crunching and snapping sounds as it pieced back together, his eyes having already finished the agonizing process long before they got home. (To the point Raph had to carry him)

Leo was quick to reattach the arm, sighing as the chipped and dented metal attached to more chipped and dented metal. He was the only one out of the three other brothers that didn't feel like he was going to throw up. Though that doesn't make him even less mortified of what they had done to his poor softshell brother while he was gone for those two days. Sure, he didn't feel like throwing up, but he did want to cry. He wanted to break down and sob until he physically couldn't anymore while in the arms of his twin. He wanted to hug him like there was no tomorrow, to show him he wasn't ever leaving him alone again. He wanted to fall asleep practically dry heaving and gasping for air in his brother's lap, while being awkwardly patted on the shell with a mechanical arm and told google-read affirmations. 

He didn't want to watch his brother writhe on the surgical table in silent agony while his body played contortionist against his will. He didn't want to listen to his bones clicking and his muscles shifting back into their proper places within his body. He didn't want to make Raph hold him down so he didn't hurt anyone or himself.

He didn't want to watch his brother in pain. .

He wanted to sit down and listen to his brother rant about whatever knick-knack or trinket he built that day. He wanted to listen to mindless ramblings about things like dinosaurs or anatomy. He wanted to sit down, having meaningful conversations to ensure the other was okay. He wanted to be playing dumb videogames they stole from big companies for fun. He wanted to be watching a Jupiter Jim marathon while half asleep in a turtle pile. 

He didn't want to see the sudden spasms and gasps the twin had been doing for the past ten minutes, or the wood turning back into real skin and muscle, his veins and nerves practically playing marco-polo for their natural places, the tears that flowed like miniature rivers on his face, to hear the bones snapping into their rightful place, the rasped, scratchy breathing of the turtle just trying to bear the pain, the sound of wood digging and smacking against metal as he kicked and thrashed and jerked, and now the distorted screams that had just begun. . .

"Leo, what do we do now? Can't we- knock 'im out or somethin'?"

"Sure, if you wanna be the one to hit him with the frying pan, go ahead." He retorted.

"Oh- sorry. . Forgot—"

"Here, I'll stay here and keep him still, you go do something with Mikey." He ordered, taking a small breath to steel himself.

"No, it's fine. I can—"

"I'm sure Mikey really needs your help, you two can start up a marathon or something. . Plus, I'm the medic, and the twin, so it's kinda my job anyways."

". . Alright, just be careful Leo, make sure to take care of ya'self too."

"Will do Mi Hermano."

The snapper paused, then nodded and left him to it.

He sighed, gently holding his brother's arms down to keep him from hurting either of the two.

The softshell continued to thrash uncontrollably, broken cries becoming more clear as time went on.

Ten minutes became twenty, twenty minutes became fifty, fifty minutes became two hours. 

The slider was in complete shock at how long this was taking. He couldn't tell if he was angry, mortified, scared, sad, or all four. He felt so bad for the twin, but couldn't express it for some reason. He just caressed his face, gently rubbing his thumb across his cheek in a soothing and sympathetic manner as the terrapin finally came to.

The softshells body went limp, head lifting to meet the sliders gaze. He saw the twin give a warm smile, continuing to try and soothe him as he leaned his head into his hand.

And then,

His eyes rolled back, head banging against metal as he fell into what seemed to be unconsciousness. . . Head lolling to the side and one last shallow exhale emitting from him.

Leo gasped and quickly checked his pulse, silently praying to the pizza-supreme in the sky that it wasn't what he thought had happened.

And it turns out he was very much right, because the pulse was slowing, and quick.

He rested his head on the other's chest, hearing nothing. .

He heard nothing. 

He quickly ran to the closet, grabbing the defibrillator and sprinting back over. He set the machine down on a supply cart he rolled over, powering it on as quick as he physically could. He rubbed the two handles together, taking a small breath and pressing down onto his plastron. "C'mon Donnie. . please—" He pleaded. "Please please don't do this to me—" He repeated the process. "Don— DonTron, 'Tello, twin— please please!!" He did it again, "Don c'mon!"

The other two ran in, gasping and running to his side. 

"What happened what's wrong?!"

The slider didn't hear Raph over the ringing in his ears. He rubbed the handles together again, firmly pressing them against the twins chest. He removed them, practically throwing them onto the cart and turning back.

The softshell suddenly let out a loud gasp, followed by a weak cry as he tensed up completely.

The slider froze for a minute, before smiling and beginning to cry. He grabbed the latter's hand, giving a slight squeeze and rubbing his thumb over his knuckles.

He finally felt warm. . Like a real being and not- not a doll.

But that didn't change the fact he had just watched his genius brother's temperature drop, the sheer emptiness of his heart completely stopping. The unforgettable feel of the bloodflow just pausing.

He couldn't change the fact that his brother, his twin, had died on that table, even if just for a few minutes. He had died, probably feeling completely alone and helpless. Probably feeling like he hadn't been strong enough to keep himself awake after it all. Probably feeling like a failure. . . .

"Don- Don hey— You're okay now. . you- you're—" He choked up, pulling the latter into a tight (but careful) hug and beginning to sob. "You- you're gonna be alright— I won't let that happen again. . ."

The genius just froze up in shock for a second, before slowly draping his arm over the sliders shell and awkwardly patting it.

"I'm sorry. . I'm so sorry you- you had to go through that. . ."

"I- it's fine. . ." He mumbled. "As long as it was just me. . ."

He pulled away, still squeezing his shoulders gently. "No. No it's not fine Don! You- you were cursed and used and forced to do things you didn't want to do just to entertain some stupid humans!"

". . . I suppose- I suppose you're right. . . But at least—"

"No. Don't you even say that shit dude. . I don't care if you were doing it to protect us. I don't care if it was to keep humans happy. You were fucking tortured 'Tello! I saw how painful that was. I heard it— You- it- you. . ." His lip quivered, bringing his hands to his face and shaking his head.

The softshell had a solemn look, looking away for a second before spreading his arm and crossing his legs slowly. 

Leo just began to sob harder, climbing into the other's lap and burying his face in the crook of his neck.

He again draped his arm over the other, soothingly rubbing his back.

"Its- It's gonna be okay— erm. . You'll get through it, just- keep going soldier—" He said quietly, glancing to his limp arm beside him and then to his working arm. I suppose it was worth it. . Even if it is inconvenient to me and my work. . .

The slider's body wracked with sobs, hugging him tighter. He looked similar to a crying child after scraping their knee, demanding for their parent to make them feel better.

Donnie sighed softly, completely wrapping his arm around the latter and returning the hug the best he could.

The other two just watched, smiling and pulling up some chairs.

Finally the softshell turned his head to the two, opening his mouth to speak and closing it again, unsure. He shook his head and opened it again. "What- What happened?" He questioned, gesturing lightly to his limp arm and then to the slider.

"Eh- well— You—"

"You died. . ." The twin murmured from where he now lay against the softshell's plastron.

The genius's eyes widened slightly. He looked down, spotting the tired, solemn look of the other.

"You died. . . You died for seven minutes." He repeated. "Must've been from the initial shock or the pain, but you- you were gone, 'Tello. . ."

"I—"

"That's why I said it isn't okay. . . You died an- and we weren't even able to comfort you or help you through it. You died feeling scared and alone- I could tell. You- you—"

"Hey, stop it 'Nardo. . . You're only adding salt to your own wound by saying that."

"What?"

"Figure of speech, Michael." The softshell said.

". . . You're not a failure." The slider murmured.

"What?" He turned back to the twin.

"You're not a failure, 'Tello. . You- You did what you could, and- and dealt with a lot more than you should have, but I know you still feel that way."

". . . ."

"So please, don't think you're a failure Hermano. ."

". . Same goes for you, then."

"What? But—"

"No, don't be a hypocrite 'Nardo. I know you are feeling like what you just told me not to feel a few seconds ago."

"But this isn't—"

"It's just as much about you as it is me. So don't pull that or I will personally pay 'Angelo to go full Dr. Delicate touch on you."

"I— Fine. ." He huffed lightly.

"Good, now, can someone please explain to me why I cannot move my other arm right now? And how it's even attached."

"Oh, right. That. Erm- You sorta kinda have a crap ton of nerve damage in that arm. And your muscles are kinda shredded as well—"

"Wonderful, he said with sarcasm."

"I mean, I was able to reattach it before the whole reverse thingy finished but because that fucker cut it off, it didn't heal right. You can still use it, it just has to heal the muscles. And then you have to deal with the physical therapy—"

". . . Couldn't have just kept it off at that point?"

"'Tello!"

"What? I could have made a prosthetic!"

"We are not cutting your arm off!"

"Why not? It's already numb."

"'Tello you dumbass—"

"You're one to talk mister 'Its fine I can walk THREE DAYS AFTER MY FOOT SHATTERED'!"

"I have no idea what you are talking about, dear brother."

"Nuh-uh, don't be pulling that."

"Well at least I didn't pull seven all-nighters straight and then proceed to try and fight the mayor."

"He did WHAT!?"

"Hey! This isn't about me!"

"OI! Tú mismo lo dijiste, ¡esto se trata tanto de ti como de mí!"

"Sé muy bien lo que dije 'Nardo, ¡pero esta vez no se trata de mí!"

"What?" The eldest and youngest blinked in confusion.

——————

"Leo, what are you doing in Don's lab?" Raph walked in, crossing his arms like a parent demanding a kid to give them something.

"Nothin' much— just a little revenge mission." He lifted up the shattered cuff, pulling what seemed to be a memory card out of the tech.

 "Leo what are you—"

"He said he records everything, doesn't he?"