Work Text:
Dr. Connor Maverick wasn’t unaccustomed to unusual cases.
He did specialize in exotic animals in New York, after all. If it wasn’t some rich aristocrat with way too much money to spend on animals that really shouldn’t be house pets, it was everyday New Yorkers bringing him whatever weird and wild animal that had somehow gotten loose. There was a surprising number of snakes and turtles that came through his door.
But…definitely none like the four that had just walked in behind his boyfriend.
Literally. Walked in. Under their own power. On two legs.
Because there were apparently half-human, half-animal mutants living in the city and some of them had fought off a giant amalgamation of the entire Rosebank Zoo. And Connor had not seen that event leading to a frantic call from Nick, begging him to open the clinic for an emergency.
That emergency being the four turtles, each looking like they’d gone head-to-head with a subway train. And a slightly less battered looking teenage girl, along with a really big rat in a bathrobe, limping in at the rear of the presession.
He really shouldn’t be surprised anymore. New York attracted weird like flies.
Nick led the little group, covered in grime and with a scrape over one cheek, but mostly unscathed. He leaned on the desk with a heavy sigh, “You’re a lifesaver today, ya know that? Don’t even know if a normal doctor could fix ‘em.”
“Yeeah,” Connor watched as the turtle in a blue mask held up the purple masked one with one arm, guiding him to the farthest side of the waiting area. “You forgot to mention that they weren’t, ya know, normal animals.”
“I know, I know, it’s a lot to wrap your head around. But they just saved the entire city, babe.”
“Did I say I wasn’t going to treat them? I opened shop, didn’t I? Just gotta…figure out where to start, honestly.”
“...the girl said their shells got cracked…it’s mostly why I called you…”
Connor blinked, frowning in thought as he watched the turtles. They’d all settled as far away from the front desk as they could and were watching Connor warily. He couldn’t see their carapaces and ‘cracked shell’ could mean a lot of things…none good, if he was honest, but smaller fractures would be a lot easier to fix.
Nodding to himself, Connor stepped out from behind the desk, “Go on, I can handle them from here.”
Nick blinked, “You sure? I don’t mind stayin’-”
“Naw, I’ll be fine. Besides, I can actually reason with these clients and they can tell me what’s wrong. Go, make sure Danni isn’t overworking herself again.”
Nick smiled, ducking down to press a quick peck to Connor’s cheek, “You’re the best.”
Connor hummed and started walking towards the mutants.
They all watched him like hawks…or trapped mice. The rat shifted subtly, eyes flicking to the door, to the turtles, to Connor then back to the door. The turtles weren’t quite as cagey or on edge, honestly, they looked more exhausted than anxious, but they still watched him warily as he stopped in front of them.
He did a quick scan, trying to determine who needed help first.
Apparently, that was a bad move, because the only human in the ranks stood, stepping right up to Connor so they were almost nose to nose, “You gonna just stand there and stare buddy? You got a problem?”
Connor blinked, “...who needs to go first?”
The girl smirked, like she’d won an argument, and spun around.
Connor didn’t need to see her face to know all the wind left her metaphorical sails. Her shoulders dropped and her head moved back and forth as she tried to parse out who needed help the most.
The turtle in blue straightened, pointing to the one in orange, “He should go first, he got milked earlier.”
Connor blinked, “That…isn’t physically possible…”
“I mean, technically, I think they were drawing blood?” Purple piped in.
Ah, blood loss. Yeah, that should be first.
Connor slowly approached the orange turtle, crouching in front of him, “I’m gonna need to take you to the exam room in the back to help you. Can you walk there okay?”
Orange nodded slowly, but his eyes flicked to the side nervously.
“...do you…want someone to come with?”
Orange nodded again, more vigorously. Or, tried to, but the jerky motion clearly made him dizzy and he tipped forward. Connor’s hands automatically jerked up to catch him and…he was not expecting the turtle to be so light, actually. He wasn’t feather light but he didn’t seem much heavier then the average mastiff.
Everyone seemed to collectively hold their breath as Connor carefully helped Orange sit up, “Okay?”
Orange whimpered in the back of his throat.
Connor glanced to the side, where the rest of the group seemed to be having a silent conversation before the teen girl nodded, “I’m going with him.”
“Alright. Help him to the exam room?” Connor gestured to the turtle he was still holding up.
The girl quickly moved closer, taking Orange’s arm and slinging it around her shoulders. Connor nodded, more to himself then to his audience, and led the way into the room he’d already set up.
He decided to forgo the usual initial exam steps. For one, he didn’t have a baseline for ‘mutant turtle’ to compare with. And another, his current client could actually tell him what was hurt.
And since the turtle could walk and was somewhat responsive, he could probably get away with just fluids and not try to figure out how safe a transfusion would be.
But when he turned from the cooler, IV bag and needle in hand, the turtle visibly recoiled, pressing himself more against the girl.
To her credit, she reacted quickly, bracing her legs more firmly and lifting her free arm to almost hug the turtle, “Hey, it’s okay Mikey, I’ll be right here if he tries anything, okay? It’s all okay.”
Right, having a client that talks means he can’t just wave something under their nose to tell them it’s safe…or use a treat to distract them.
Damn, maybe he should have asked Nick to stay. Nick was better at the people stuff.
Connor paused in his advance, holding the IV out, “It’s fluids to help your body replenish your blood supply. You’re dizzy right now because there isn’t enough blood to carry oxygen to your brain, this will help make that go away.” he patted the exam table. “You can sit here while I set it up and finish looking you over.”
Mikey still looked wary, but he let the girl lead him to the exam table and carefully climbed up.
Connor gave him a moment to settle before approaching, “It’ll probably pinch a little, uhh-” what did Nick tell people when he had to do IVs. “Um…you can look at the wall posters if it helps?”
The girl, thankfully, jumped in again, grabbing Mikey’s hand and pointing to a weight diagram for cats, “Dude, check it out, it’s like that meme. You’ve seen the one, right?”
Connor took advantage of the destruction, quickly swabbing Mikey’s arm and finding the vein before slipping the needle in.
It was…weird doing this on something on a human scale.
But he was quite liking the small mercy of Mikey not trying to bite him. He only flinched when the needle went in and kept his eyes firmly on the cat poster while Connor taped the line down.
Connors' eyes drifted to the carapace next. The turtle was covered in cuts and scrapes and bruises but Nick had mentioned cracks and the sooner that was taken care of, the better.
He couldn’t help but hiss in sympathy when he saw the injury.
Technically, it wasn’t anywhere close to the worst he’s seen. Between teenagers using sliders as hockey pucks, escapees from central park onto the streets or little kids who thought dropping their box turtles off balconies was a good idea, he’d seen a lot of messed up carapaces.
But the clear pressure crack starting from the middle of the shell and carving a deep ravine almost to the top lip still looked painful. No wonder the turtle had been almost silent the entire time.
Cleaning it out would be an ordeal, by the simple virtue it was a lot bigger than the average turtle shell. And he’d need a lot of screws for the patch…or were the shells on mutant turtles weaker? Maybe added screws would make it worse.
“You don’t happen to know how strong your shell is?” he asked.
Mikey peeked over his shoulder at him, shrugging one arm, “Donnie says they're even tougher than the average turtle…is it bad?”
And Connor didn’t answer right away. He couldn’t, because it was suddenly hitting him how…young the mutant sounded. Thinking back, the one wearing blue had sounded young too…and the purple one’s voice had been pretty high pitched.
He hadn’t thought too hard about it but now, with just one mutant in front of him, looking up at him wide-eyes in a very round face, that maybe wasn’t just turtle genes mixing weirdly with human genes…
Did New York just get saved by…kids?
Did a bunch of teenagers almost get killed trying to stop a freaky version of godzilla?
Where the hell had literally anyone one else been?
He shoved those very, very foreboding thoughts down because Mikey was starting to fidget anxiously at the long silence. He took a deep breath and moved to get the saline bottle and cotton balls, “Good news, I am very good at fixing this kind of shell fracture. Slightly…less good news, I’m gonna have to put screws in to actually repair it.
“I’m sorry, you gotta what?” the girl, he should really get her name, looked baffled and a little...protective maybe?
“Only to hold the shell shut while I apply a resin epoxy patch. After I clean the crack out I need a way to stabilize it and drilling small holes for screws and basically ‘sewing’ the edges of your carapace back together is the best way for it to heal properly. I’ll only put the screws in as far as your keratin layer…erm, that’s the top layer of your carapace. After the patch dries I’ll take them out again and it should heal relatively quickly.”
The explanation didn’t seem to soothe either teenagers' worry.
Now he really wished he’d asked Nick to stay but it was far, far too late to call him back.
So he took another deep breath, “There is a mild pain-killer in the IV I gave you already. You’ll barely feel a thing and your friend…”
“...April,” the girl supplied.
“April is going to be here the whole time. I promise, this procedure is completely safe.
Mikey still looked unsure but he nodded and was clearly trying to keep still as Connor started to carefully clean the injury.
He worked as quickly as possible, uncomfortably aware that there were three more turtles with similar injuries waiting. Red tinted saline ran down the kids back and Connor worked diligently to make sure every bit of grime was gone before directing Mikey to lay on his plastron and pulling out his drill.
He’d made a point of getting one that wasn’t very loud so it didn’t stress out his clients, the whirr was barely louder than the average fan motor. But Mikey still tensed when he switched it on. April held his hands in hers, smiling encouragingly and talking softly while Connor worked.
He’d been right about using a lot of screws. He silently thanked Vanessa for accidentally getting a double shipment on the last restock, it was certainly paying off now.
He kept one hand firmly on the edge of Mikey’s shell, so he could feel every time the kid shivered or flinched. But he didn’t try to run or bite him so the process was going much more smoothly than he was used to.
Still, both human and turtle visibly relaxed when the last hole was bored and the final screw was put in place.
Moving quickly, Connor dumped the epoxy resin components into a mixer before going back to the carapace with fishing line and started piecing the broken ends back into one.
Mkey whimpered and shook, and when Connor glanced down he could see the green, three fingered knuckles going pale with how hard he was squeezing April's hand. She didn’t even seem to care as she kept praising how well Mikey was doing.
Tough kid. Definitely born and raised in the city.
Fishing line in place, Connor made short work of transferring his resin batch and applying it. That, at least, didn’t seem to cause Mikey any more distress, his hands loosening bit by bit as the patch was spread over his injury. And the waiting time for it to set gave Connor a chance to examine the rest of Mikey.
There were a plethora of cuts to bandage but nothing that needed stitches. Connor thanked fate for that small mercy, because he wasn’t sure if Mikey would stay put if he pulled out another needle.
He smoothed down the last bandage just in time for the resin patch to dry. The screws were removed and disposed of and Connor finished it all off with a stupid amount of tape and gauze.
He breathed a sigh of relief before helping Mikey sit up again, “I want that IV to stay in until the bag is empty. But you can take it to the waiting room with you.”
Mikey nodded as he carefully slid off the table, leaning on April again for support. He looked up at Connor with a very shaky but genuine smile, “You’re a lifesaver, dude.”
Connor huffed a laugh, patting the kids head, “Tell yourself that when you start getting tired of all that resin on your back. Now, let’s go get the next one.”
Mikey nodded and Connor led the way back to the others.
Exhaustion was clearly trying to pull them all down but they perked up when Mikey shuffled over and was lowered into the chair.
Connor didn’t even have to ask before the same blue turtle, who was definitely the oldest with that ‘take charge’ attitude, was pushing the purple one forward.
Connor knew better this time and quietly explained the process again as April helped Donnie to the exam room. The kid, who he learned was named Donnie, nodded along quietly and immediately laid himself flat on the table.
More screws, more resin, an exam showing the kid probably had a concussion and a deep cut up his leg that needed a few stitches. Donnie babbled quietly the entire time, talking to April about some TV show he’d been watching and a band he really liked. Connor huffed a quiet laugh when he heard BTS mentioned a few times.
Now that he wasn’t as unsure, the entire thing took less time and Connor was feeling pretty confident when he went back for the next kid.
And was very, very quickly humbled again when he got Raph on his exam table.
He doubted Raph was trying to be difficult. But his default when he was uncomfortable seemed to be very much fight or flight. And since flight wasn’t an option, it meant he kept trying to claw at Connor whenever something hurt a little too much. Connor was very happy to have April's help in making sure Raph stayed as still as possible while also keeping him from punching or biting.
Luckily, Connor was used to clients that tended to lash out. And it got much easier after the shell repair was done. Something had cut the kids hands to ribbons so both got a layer of disinfectant and gauze.
Leo, while not nearly as difficult as Raph had been, was definitely not easy. Not because he was moving or trying to bite. No, it was because he refused to hold onto April like the last three had and continued to insist that Connor cleaning and drilling his shell didn’t hurt that bad.
It was kinda cringy to watch the kid fumble over his brave face in a clear attempt to impress April. But then again, Nick wasn’t much better and Connor had found that awkwardness endearing so he couldn’t judge the kid.
He also needed the most stitches. It looked like every cut the kid got and dug in deep and left Connor the job of slowly turning the turtle into a poor copy of Frankenstein's monster. And the bruising over his arms was much worse then the other three had been, already turning an ugly shade of purple. Treating that presented a small challenge, because he didn’t make a habit of stocking anything that could treat bruising. So he settled for raiding the break room freezer for ice and instructions for April to pick up something for bruising at a pharmacy.
Which left the rat, their father, apparently.
Connor frowned as the older mutant slowly limped next to him, under his own power so April could watch his boys.
“You have a name, right?” Connor asked. “I’m not really a fan of calling you ‘dad’.”
The rat gave a wheezy laugh at that, hugging his ribs, “Splinter will do fine.”
Connor nodded and held the exam room door open, “Okay Splinter, let’s take a look at that leg first.”
Splinter nodded, grunting and groaning as he took a seat on the table, only pausing to stick out a hand when Connor tried to help, “I’m not that old!”
“No, but you are injured,” Connor crouched, carefully prodding Splinters leg and foot. “...I want to x-ray to make sure but I don’t think it’s broken. Maybe a hairline fracture at worst.”
Splinter nodded, “Good, good, don’t have time for a broken bone anyway. Gotta stay on top of those boys.”
“I’m sure April will help you with your kids aftercare.”
“Ha, with their injuries, maybe. No, I need to make sure they stay home! Those four are grounded for sneaking around behind my back!”
“I mean…they did help save a lot of people.”
“Yes, and I am very proud of them. That’s why I’ll only ground them for a month instead of the rest of their lives.”
Connor couldn’t help but snort at that, “Alright then. Would you mind taking off your robe? I want to check your ribs.”
Splinter hummed and muttered as he gingerly pulled off his robe, once again refusing help. So Connor waited until he was given permission to touch. He didn’t check for busted ribs often on animals but Nick had shown him how to do it one. ‘Just in case’.
What other odd, little moments in his life were just fate setting up something to pay off later?
He probably would never know…and frankly, he’d had plenty of world shattering revelations today.
Splinter was, by far, the least hurt. His leg and ribs were the worst offenders and, after a little nervousness around the x-ray machine, Connor confirmed that his leg wasn’t even broken, just a thin fracture that would heal in almost no time. He had the same random cuts all over his limbs to go with his sons, but his fur had saved him from anything too bad.
He led Splinter back to his sons after a slightly longer exam but with fresh bandages on his foot and chest and three pages of at-home care notes.
Connor paused by the desk, watching as the turtles, despite almost being asleep on their feet, stood to hug Splinter. He squeezed each one in return, likely putting too much pressure on his ribs but…Connor didn’t have the heart to tell him to stop.
The relief among the odd family was palpable. Connor knew that particular brand of relief well, when the dust finally settled completely and it fully hit you that you survived something that should have killed you.
No way in hell would Connor intrude on that moment.
He let the mutants be, going back to the exam room to clean up. If they needed more help they could find him easily.
They were long gone by the time Connor went out again, only leaving a note on the front desk.
The scrawl was messy, but clearly read, ‘Thank you, from Leonardo, Donatello, Raphael, Michelangelo, Splinter, April’.
Connor smiled as he tucked the note into his pocket.
He had no clue if he’d ever see those kids again but he hoped he would.
He hadn’t properly thanked them for saving the city after all.
Two months later, Vanessa cautiously poked her head into the storage closet, “Uh, Dr. Maverick? We have a walk-in requesting you?”
Connor sighed, “If it’s Mrs. Jefferson, please tell her she has to wait like everyone else.”
“Um, no, it’s someone by the name Leonardo?”
Connor paused.
He only knew one Leonardo.
“...I’ll be right there.”
Inventory could wait until he saw why Leo was knocking.
Connor didn’t run, running was a stupid thing to do in the clinic. That was how you accidently got stabbed by a scalpel or spilled chemicals onto people. But he did walk a bit faster than he normally would.
And sure enough, there was Leo, standing in his waiting room, next to a bloody faced Raphael.
Connor approached the two boys, looking between them, “...the hell happened to him?”
“Someone decided to fight half a gang. By himself!”
“That Hun guy called me a frog!” Raph defended. “And he threw a beer bottle at me!”
Connor sighed, shaking his head, “Come on, both of you. I do not feel like getting bit today so Leo, you get to hold him down.”
Raph gaped at him, crossing his arms, “I’m not that bad!”
“Uh-huh,” Connor nodded as he snagged an empty clipboard. “I’m sure Miss. O’Neil agrees with that.”
Raph grumbled but trailed after him, Leo following at the end of the train.
Connor smiled as he scribbled down Raphael's name at the top of the patent form.
These kids had put themselves through hell to save the city, he was fine being their designated doctor in return.