Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Coherence returned to Donnie like a flickering fluorescent bulb, slow and inefficient. Pieces of his mind and body were fading in at differing rates, being assembled without reason or care. While his eyes couldn’t focus as they floated over the muddled environment, his pain receptors were firing pulses of lightning up his left arm and piercing through his right temple. How long had he been floating in cerebral soup? The answer lingered out of grasp. Frustrating. Very, very. Two. Time trickled on until finally, a shaky thought broke through the fog… a hit to the head could explain the slow reaction time and disorientation. Leo would know better.

Leo.

Donnie fought against the numb buzz at the back of his mind, persistent in shoving away the static until awareness, sharp and nauseating, snapped the world into focus around him. Without pause his trained ear identified malfunctioning tech crackling at irregular intervals, jumpstarting a diagnostics rundown at the edge of his subconscious. Damaged hardware. Severity unknown. Requires further investigation. A dull ache weighed against his limbs, which splayed awkwardly atop the dirt and foliage. They were bent at uncomfortable, yet comfortingly unpainful, angles. Well… all but his throbbing left arm, which was currently trapped against the unforgiving tree trunk he had been … thrown into?

Yet another unknown. How annoying.

Still, the only thing he could hear was the unstable currents of energy thrumming through damaged circuits. Beyond that, just leaves and branches shifting under gentle airflow. Barely anything noteworthy. His environment was bathed in silence, which was wrong, wrong, wrong.

Where were the shouts of support, of guidance, of camaraderie? The opening and closing shiks of portals, melodic clicking of chains, comforting rumble of supersized feet traveling through the ground? Even outside of battle, the world of Donatello was hardly a quiet one. His thoughts floated back to his morning, back in the Lair. He had been in his lab. Right? Alone with the door shut tight. That still hadn’t stopped him from hearing muffled sounds of activity from other areas of his home. The gentle whir of skateboard wheels sk-sk-sking up and down the ramp, pans sizzling and staccato chopping in the kitchen … and what had been the earworm blaring from the living room? Right… of course! The iconic, brass-focused opening number from Jupiter Jim: Trapped in the Broad-way Galaxy, the saga’s first (and last) musical installment.

Jupiter Jim, adventure a-hoy!

Trained for danger from a boy!

Left home behind when just a teen,

Ready to fight forces dark and mean.

It doesn’t matter how impossible the mess is,

Maintaining interplanetary peace is his prime directive!

Moonlight filtered through the leaves, pulling his attention back to the world around him. He now sat in a semi-upright position, shell resting against the tree trunk. Oddly, it did not stand perpendicular to the ground but rather propped him up at a slanted obtuse angle. When had he moved? Before he could even question the lapse, his training dutifully took control of the brain cell and prompted him to survey the clearing before him. Straight ahead laid a deep, abrasive scar carved through the earth. It tore through bushes, smaller trees, rock, and undergrowth- all leading to Donnie. Yeah. No need for a proper hypothesis. He must have been thrown at a great distance and/or great speed. Ouch. That’s why he couldn’t hear his brothers, they had to be further away. But they would be looking for him by now… if not soon.

Better not keep them worrying any longer.

Satisfied with his information gathering, he sat up further and pulled his knees upright. Black dots swirled over his corneas at the seemingly simple request of his body, which he stubbornly rode out. Once the tightness in his chest relinquished its grip on his breathing, Donnie’s eyes fluttered back open and cast down to where his left forearm rested against one knee.

Shit.

The gauntlet’s screen was completely shattered, bursts of fine lines patterning the entire surface. At first glance, he would have assumed that the damage came from impact. His inventions were heavily fortified but were still not fully immune to brute force. Yet. But the heat-stained metal and occasional spark escaping from the warped frame spoke otherwise. His tech had shorted out, which would have taken a great deal of energy to manage. Dark patches of inflamed skin peeked out from under the gauntlet, begging for relief from metal confinement. With a whispered curse- if a tree falls in the woods could Raph hear it? – his trembling fingers raised to press at the release, fruitlessly engaging the broken mechanism. Whatever heat that destroyed the inner workings must have fused the connections. Et tu thermodynamics?

Fine. Whatever. He could manage for now. Removing the gauntlet could wait. His main goal was still to reach out to his brothers. Everything else would fall in line after.

Glaring daggers at his forearm, he turned his focus inward- reaching for his ninpo-

Static rang in his ears. The smell of sick shocked the sensitive lining of his nose and throat. Everything burned, his chest was empty, and he was… standing? Donnie’s forehead and right palm rested against a tree… different tree, different bark, different texture. Hazy eyes quickly averted from the lost contents of his stomach, glancing over his shoulder. His tree of origin was at least 20 yards behind, now just an endpoint on the line of broken ground that connected them. From the new vantage point, he could see the extent of his impact. There was a deep crater smashed into the unsteady trunk and its base was haloed by a crown of upended roots, cruel and twisted claws ripped from the earth. Almost like vines. Like tentacles. Burrowed deep beneath the skin. It was a miracle that the tree hadn’t fallen entirely.

Okay. Ninpo take two. He just needed to focus past the brain fog. Deep breaths. That’s what Mikey always said about mystic mumbo jumbo. Deep breaths. Confidence in himself. Feel the connection. Go team! No problem. Not at all. Gritting his teeth together, he pushed deeper into his core, straining to find the raw power that somehow dwelled within him. It just needed a guiding hand, the flip of a breaker switch that resulted in fireworks and freedom and opportunity. Why couldn’t he-

Thwack. Aaaaand they were back to being in the dirt. Face down to be specific. The sharp tang of iron against his palate told him he’d bitten his tongue on the way down. His left arm howled in outrage, pain now having clawed through the numb veil of shock he’d woken to. Gritting his teeth together, he sat up, supporting his weight with his good arm. 50 yards. He could barely see his endpoint tree.

He was gag going to form a hypothesis based on two data points. Mostly because attempting a third to establish a pattern seemed… unwise.

Ninpo was a no-go. Reason unknown. What could have been so strong Mikey- No! Get away from him! Go with Leo!  to sever the connection between him and his power? A paralyzing fear he hadn’t felt since the last time his ninpo was ripped away sent shivers through his nervous system. At least during the invasion, he could locate any of his brothers at the touch of a button. Except for those few minutes. But now-

This had officially moved from an oof moment into a genuine problem.

His tech was out of commission. His ninpo was out of reach. He had no means of communicating with his family. His family… who were all likely in the same predicament. He hoped none of them were alone. Please don’t let any of them be alone. He couldn’t track where they were. Or where he was for that matter. That meant he had to conduct some primary research. And not just because it would help calm him down.

“Mikey?” Donnie croaked, eyes darting around, looking for something, anything, to give him an idea of where to go. “Raph? LEO?” Yelling was pointless. Nobody would hear. Donnie knew that. But what was logic in the face of longing? He found himself reminded of the first time he had strayed too far into the sewers while scavenging as a tot. How he had to process the overwhelming certainty of being completely alone- all while separated from both his family and society as a whole. He’d cried out in the same way back then- to the point he couldn’t speak for an entire week after. The rest was fuzzy with age. But the dread was so visceral that time couldn’t soothe it away.

He shook the tangential memories away. These were not productive thoughts or feelings. Let’s look at the facts. He was in the forest. That tracked. They’d all gone out that afternoon. Was there an accident? A fight? What else was he missing?

The knock to his head seemed to have rattled the events out of his mind. That limited his knowledge to what he could gather first-hand.

Donnie let his goggles flip down so he could scan for mystics. One lens had a few cracks running through it, but luckily not to the extent that it was unusable. At least something on his person was still partially functional.

Oh, Madame Curie. The high levels of mystic energy swirling in the earth, trees, and air all but confirmed that Donnie was blocked off from his ninpo. Otherwise, he would certainly be drowning in the prickly-static feeling that usually accompanied this level of power. Everything was absolutely saturated in it- in a way that Donnie had never seen before, not even in the Hidden City.

Where in the hell was he then? Still in the state? Hadn’t they been near Todd’s? How far did this insane concentration of energy reach?

He needed more data. Donnie flipped his goggles back into place and cast a critical look toward the largest nearby tree. With the state of his arm and the lack of his shell’s support systems- climbing would pose a challenge. The additional weight of his battleshell would complicate things further. Was the potential for new information really all that important? …Nnn-Yes. As exposed as he’d feel without it, he could handle a few minutes so he could scout the larger area. Nervous laugh- this better not be how we die.

A sluggish hand reached up to press the release at his shoulder, relying mostly on his right arm to sling the shell around his body for observation. Like his gauntlet, his battle shell’s shape was visually warped from internal overheating. He could hear crackling sparks under the metal frame, promising hidden damage within the wires and delicate circuitry inside. Yet unlike with his arm, he couldn’t feel any injury to his actual shell. In fact, it was probably the part of his body facing the least discomfort through this ordeal. The protective padding and insulation had done their job at least. No matter about the rest. Tech can be rebuilt. He could rebuild because of his tech. Without it…

Again. Unproductive thought. Let’s focus on-

The sky was clear above the tree line, with the moon closer to one horizon than the other. Just after dusk or sometime before dawn then. At least Donnie would be able to garner a rough estimate of direction based on its path. Good ol’ reliable rotational inertia. Point one science. The unobstructed air was chill against his sore muscles, granting an unexpected relief. It helped him to remain in the present, grounded securely within his body. The nip of the air was unseasonably cold for summer, even while accounting for the late hour. August in New York was often stifling, the concrete jungle absorbing and trapping heat with the same greed that consumed legions of suits down on Wall Street. Yet the oxygen was crisp in his lungs, each breath bringing a flush of cold that sharpened his senses.

A sweep of the sea of treetops with his goggles revealed the same level of mystic energy he had observed on the ground. But that wasn’t the most baffling detail. While his sensors confirmed that the energy was of mystic origin, it was unlike anything he knew. Typically, mystic energy was concentrated around a source, be it a person, yokai, weapon, or any matter of charged object. It flowed from source to source organically, like electrons down a line of charged ions. Mystics were a force of nature, but mystic nature still followed a base degree of observable laws. Even if he didn’t understand the refined details behind how such laws operated, they existed, nonetheless. That’s what made this energy infuriating. It contradicted an established pillar of knowledge that he’d come to understand. But noooo- this energy didn’t follow any set pattern. It acted wild almost, billowing in lazy clouds around one area and darting around faster than he could follow in another. It didn’t make sense.

None of this made sense.

A frustrated hiss passed through Donnie’s beak, the sound rasping its displeasure deep within his throat. At the sound of rustling below, he cut the sound off abruptly. Donnie reacted on practiced instinct, bending his shape into the shadows and ducking back below the tree line. With eyes meticulously scanning the forest floor, he remained still for several minutes. Then fifteen. Fifteen more. Cation was priority. He was alone, he had no contact with anyone, his bō wasn’t nearby when he woke, his battleshell-

His battleshell.

Weighing stealth against protection, Donnie didn’t hesitate as he took a flying leap from the tree. His eyes were set solely on his battleshell, lying unattended where he’d left it. Dumb Dumb Dumb… How could he be so dumb? During his descent, an uncanny shiver prickled over the surface of his unprotected natural shell. Before Donnie could reason that the cold or his nerves caused the sensation, he was twisting around midair and brandishing his left arm in front of him. His gauntlet may be damaged, but it was the only armor he had equipped. Sparks flew as the metal crushed further inward, the screen bursting into shards of glass. Shimmering rainbow fractals reflected the glow of floating orbs blooming around him- a funny detail to be focused on right now, what with mystic orbs blooming out of nowhere.

The thought was a poor distraction once his back struck the unforgiving ground, hitting harder than anticipated thanks to the force he’d countered in the air. His body recoiled, arching as far as his shell would allow before ultimately slumping to a stop. The laws of motion are cruel and unforgiving. Donnie gasped for the breath that had been forced from him, his watering eyes clearing up just enough to stare up at a tree. A tree that should not be there. A tree that he had left at least 50 yards behind him. It was an endpoint. Endpoints weren’t supposed to move.

Well of course, neither did trees, and yet here they were. The roots spread around the undergrowth, dragging the trunk forward with a squirm-inducing scrape-creak-crunch that grit against his tympanum. It was a wonder he hadn’t heard it before. In fact, it would have been impossible not to have heard it before. Point one mystic bullshit. Donnie snarled darkly and sprang back a few feet, narrowly missing a branch slamming down upon his landing site.

The orbs of light converged around the tree, illuminating its figure. If Donnie didn’t know better, he would have mistaken the beings for lanterns in its branches. But the rhythmic rise and ebb in the energy’s brightness felt organic. Like a heartbeat. Like breathing. Like the- No. Not like that. Shut up.

The tree’s most disturbing trait, yet another item on Donnie’s ever-growing list of concerns, glistened under the new light source. He could still clearly see the crater his body had punched into the tree’s trunk. Only the last time he’d seen it, the wood was not actively dripping blood. Donnie wasn’t bleeding. His various scrapes and abrasions were annoying, but not critical. So if not his blood-

“Uh… Hello there. I think we have… gotten off on the wrong foot…er root?” Donnie’s voice echoed hollowly in the clearing, unsuccessful in easing the tension rattling his tone. What was he doing? Raph wouldn’t even be talking. He’d already be smashing another crater in the bark. Leo would have made a number of jokes about trees… or blood… or trees and blood and whatever else the hell was going on. Mikey would be- wait… hadn’t he mentioned fighting a were-tree before? Not that it mattered. None of his brothers were there. It was just him.

“Hear me out! None of this situation,” Donnie gestured at the damaged trunk from top to bottom, “-is my fault! You should be hunting down whatever threw me into next week. I’m just the projectile in this equation. An unwilling projectile I must add!” The tree lashed out again, several branches whipping toward Donnie. He sprung straight in the air and jumped from attacking limb to limb, using them as platforms to dodge the assault. While he could keep up beat-for-beat right now, it was obvious his time was limited. He was exhausted, injured, and was playing on an unfamiliar terrain that his opponent was well-versed in. Flee was the best strategy, but it was impossible to get to that point without some level of fight. Freeze was out of the question.

On his next jump, he feigned to the left before twisting right, only narrowly avoiding an attack. The branch still managed to clip his cheek, the weathered wood drawing a line of red through dark green scales and fraying the bottom of his mask. A small price to pay in return for what his eyes were set on- a sturdy, twig-free branch set close to the trunk. As he fell, his hands wrapped around its circumference, the shape slotting naturally against his palms. With a strength that surprised him, adrenaline is a hell of a drug… it’s probably the only reason he was still standing, Donnie snapped the branch away at its juncture. A dizzying spray of blood erupted from the splintered wound. It splattered against his face and plastron before he could react, hot and thick against his sweat-slick scales.

Don’t think about it. Don’t think about it. Just don’t think about it.

He countered a series of strikes with his makeshift weapon before his feet hit the ground once more, gratefully falling into an offensive stance. After being forced onto the defense since the moment he came to, it was a transitory relief. A small level of control now lay in his hands. It wasn’t a perfect nor permanent fix- but it would get him out of this alive. Strike. Parry. Jab. Where was the best escape route? His battleshell was near where the forest grew denser and untamed. Thicker trees meant reduced movement for both him and his opponent, but he had the size and speed advantage. If he managed to direct the fight away from the center of the clearing and closer to the edge, he’d-

“Mikey?”

Hello, freeze. You weren’t invited to this party.

With his heartbeat reverberating through his head, Donnie’s wide and terrified eyes cast toward where the voice, his voice, had originated. It echoed with the same raw desperation he’d used to call for his brother earlier. Yellow eyes glowed from the underbrush near his battleshell, blank and uncanny moons that bore through his composure.

“Raph?”

“Shut up!” Donnie yelled, officially shooting past his limit and straight into the hyperaware misery of overstimulation. His head whipped to the side to see another pair of eyes peering down at him from across the clearing. They didn’t even blink as they watched him. Judged him. Stuttered breaths shook his shoulders- sheets of panic washing down from the top of his head to the balls of his feet. Why didn’t it just attack? It was clear he’d do poorly, even if he was fighting tooth and nail to be free of the situation. If it moved, he could at least make a pass at his battleshell. For the love of Avagardro, do something!

“LEO?”

Donnie’s actual voice cried out alongside the mimicked copy as a branch curled around his ankle and slammed him into the unforgiving ground for the second time in less than 24 hours (presumably). Another scream, born of frustration, fear, and a surprising level of anger, resonated from the bottom of his lungs as he shoved back to his feet.

 He brandished his weapon in front of him, eyes cold and calculating as he observed the three new creatures standing near the bleeding tree and its colony of orbs. The unnerving eyes were set in monkey-esque faces framed by dog-like ears. Two rested on their hind legs, front arms held up in a shrug-like position. The outlier stood atop his battleshell, a Cheshire grin set wide across its face. Donnie held its mocking gaze with apprehension until the first two creatures lowered down on all fours and began to stalk toward him.

“You think I can’t take two on one? I’m insulted! After growing up with three brothers, I can do this all night!”

He could not do this all night.  

But… he also couldn’t leave his battleshell. There had never been a circumstance where he’d been forced to abandon his battleshell. It had been damaged to the point of nonfunctionally, sure. But he still always managed to walk out of a fight with some part of it still strapped on or with a replacement already on his shoulders. Leaving his battleshell... it would only happen if he was forced to his lowest. It rivaled having all his tech destroyed in less than a minute. Rivaled the absolute failure of deploying the Donnie pods. But it was worth his life.

He couldn’t just disappear on his brothers. Not if he had any say in the matter. He’d swallow his pride. He’d choke out his own dignity. He’d risk anything and everything if it meant seeing his brothers again and not letting them out of his sight for another six months. So, fighting every alarm bell ringing in the back of his head, he turned his back on the enemy and took off at a full sprint into the trees.  

He managed to cover enough distance to feel reassured of his decision- before bouncing off an invisible force that sent him straight on his ass. In both the figurative and literal sense. What. The. Hell. A hysterical laugh bubbled past his beak, the sound not even filtering through the high-pitched tone ringing in his tympanum. A sweep of his branch bō revealed an impassible line ahead of him. An unseen barrier. No.

No, No, No, No…

Donnie stood and turned, frantic energy possessing his eyes as they darted from one monkey-dog creature to the other and back. He pressed his shell firmly against the barrier to protect it, which was counteractive toward his attempt to appear intimidating and not like a cornered animal. Yet, like a cornered animal- humanity was also at its most dangerous during a last-ditch effort.

At least now his scientific integrity wouldn’t be sullied by an improperly tested hypothesis.

Donnie reached for his n-

01000100 01101001 01110011 01100011 01101111 01101110 01101110 01100101 01100011 01110100 01100101 01100100 00100000 01100110 01110010 01101111 01101101 00100000 01110011 01100101 01110010 01110110 01100101 01110010 00101110 00100000 01000001 01110100 01110100 01100101 01101101 01110000 01110100 01101001 01101110 01100111 00100000 01110100 01101111 00100000 01110010 01100101 01100011 01101111 01101110 01101110 01100101 01100011 01110100 00101110 00100000

PAIN.

Everything was spinning. Vertigo ripped at Donnie’s senses, forcing him to focus on his ragged breathing to quell the disorientation. The deliberate gasps were amplified by protective stone walls sheltering him from the outside. A grateful shiver ran down his spine at how the cool rock pacified his feverish scales. Because, by sweet, syrupy French toast, he was on fire. He could feel the heat radiating throughout his entire body, well… all but his left arm. Worryingly, he couldn’t feel anything from elbow to fingertips.

His confusion over where he was and the new layer of blood painting his arms, face, and plastron had to be ignored for the moment. Neglecting the state of his arm for too long had circled back to haunt him. Not only that- he was close to slipping back under for an unforeseeable amount of time. That was an inevitability. Whatever adrenaline-fueled boost he’d been riding was on the verge of crashing and whatever damage to his arm would only get worse if he wasn’t able to keep watch over it properly. So, he had to act swiftly, without falling into a spiraling overthink.

The fingertips of his good hand felt over his gauntlet, tracing the lines of destruction. It was much worse off than he recalled, with deep lashes scored into the metal. A few were close to cracking all the way through, to both his horror and benefit. It would only take another hard hit, two max.

Donnie reached off to his side, his claws damn, when had been the last time he’d cut them swiping around the cave floor until he encountered a softball-sized rock. He then braced his gauntlet against the cave floor to keep it in place and extended the rock into the air.

On the count of three.  

Chapter Text

All Raph had wanted from this afternoon was to hang out with his brothers, pet some puppies, enjoy the nice weather, and eat a corndog. Okay, fine. Five… ten corndogs if Raph was completely honest.

The actual result had been... disappointing. Didn't they deserve a chance to be outside the lair again with no stakes? All the fun and none of the danger? Was that so hard of a request for his family?

The day started so well before they left!

Mikey had been experimenting with confectionery-

 (You could just learn how to MAKE candy? Mind BLOWN!),

Leo was part way through his complete Jupiter Jim rewatch-

(Jupiter Jim adventure ahoy! The galaxy’s dangers he’ll valiantly destroy!),

Donnie was out of his lab… without anyone needing to pull him out!

(he didn’t even want to question it- he was just happy to see more of Donnie).

So yeah. Disappointment was underselling the dark emotion now churning with his battle instinct and violent worry. His insides twisted painfully, protesting how the world swirled dizzyingly around him as he skidded once, twice, and a final third time across the surface of some water. In the moments of weightlessness between each ricochet, Raph fumbled to make sense of what had led to this moment. What had led to him being alone, skipping like a stone with only half of Donnie’s bō clutched to his chest.

Rushing toward a hesitating splash of blue (panic!protect!panic!)

A blur of purple… (pushing? pulling? an embrace? or rejection?)

BLINDING ORANGE (GETBACKNOW)

Momentum lost, Raph finally broke through the punishing waves and sunk deep into shock-inducing cold water. Bubbles curled around him in a blinding curtain, disorienting his vision and sense of direction. Like during his brief time above water- up and down and left and right were impossible to gauge.

But he was Raph. A little confusion and discomfort weren’t enough to stop him. Impossible! A lifetime of high physical control and environmental awareness (cough little brother shenanigan senses cough) served him well. Before his lungs could even think about crying out for oxygen, he had already righted himself with a twist and a tight somersault. The weight of the water reminded him of being surrounded by his avatar construct- it was tangible yet fluid, allowing him an unrestricted range of movement.

Eyes now cast upward and set with revived determination; Raph watched the broken rays of weak underwater moonlight grow closer as he kicked his way back toward the surface. He took in a heavy, grateful breath the second he breached- his exhale billowing away in a wavering cloud overhead. The chill of the air was only heightened by the water mapping trails down his skin and the soaked bandana now plastered to the top of his head.

Rain stung his face and arms, adding another layer of wet and cold. (It had been raining? He hadn’t had a chance to notice while falling… and wow it was really lucky he had crashed into water huh? Geez, Raph didn’t want to think about that. He'd been falling a lot over the years and surely his luck would run out at some point and- STOP! Get out of your mind, Raph!) Swallowing thickly, Raph started to run his tongue over his beak to ease his nerves and-

Saltwater?

No way. They had been nowhere near the ocean. Todd was in Long Island. They had been in the woods! Together!

Now Raph was alone. A lightning strike illuminated dense, dark clouds and nothing but thrashing waves that surrounded him from all directions, prompting a jolt of unease to buzz underneath his skin. The sensation burned down deeper into his core at the jarring reintroduction to the feeling of being small. He was just a drop of water in a cold, angry environment that could consume him if he let down his guard for even a moment. Nature didn’t need a motive or plan either. It was a force, unpredictable and deadly.

(And what of his brothers?)

He was alone and who even knew where in the water he was? He wouldn’t be so far out he couldn’t swim back- right? If he could even attempt to tap into his ninpo, would he be able to touch the ocean floor? (the connection was still there, it hadn’t severed... he’d know if it had. So where…why?)

No, it was fine! He was Raph! And Raph couldn’t crumble. Not before he had his brothers in sight and preferably back in his arms. He’d much rather that than just a piece of his brother’s weapon. The shattered tool his brother had to protect himself- broken and useless and in the wrong hands. The lack of static electric sensation while touching the wood’s surface would add to his concern if he had more than a moment to reflect on the detail. If he did, his chest would only tighten further, suffocating what little energy he had left at its source. So, he half-heartedly blamed his increasing and overbearing queasiness on how much focus it took to stay above the choppy water that thrashed him from side to side instead.

(He hadn’t heard any other crashes in the water. Was that good or bad? What of his brothers?)

He was alone and the edges of his vision blurred and burned, and he couldn’t breathe and why couldn’t he feel his ninpo... what-

What was that?

(Nothing- it was nothing, he was alonealonealone)

There! Again! A yell!

Raph’s body moved before he could think, swimming desperately in the direction he had heard the faint calls. It didn’t matter who it was. If there's even a small chance it was his brothers… he’d take on any other outcome and fight his way to the other side.

It wasn’t much of a plan. Raph could admit that. But without Leo… or Donnie and Mikey, he had to rely on his strengths and not leave a second for his weaknesses to cause him to stumble. Striking hard and striking fast played as a dual-pronged offense and defense when Raph was alone. If he could overwhelm a threat with brute strength before they had a chance to regroup and counter, while also not having to keep his brothers out of harm’s way, Raph’s success rate was fairly consistent. Statistically … good. His patrols as the Red Angel of Preventing Harm supported that. Donnie once showed him numbers and charts about it, for some distant reason…  

The reassurance still didn’t deter the heavy worry making its home in Raph’s chest. The last time he’d been in battle and pulled from his family- he failed. He made a bad call and ended up being used as a living weapon. Sure, he got back. Eventually. But everything was different. It was all different. Could he even rely on his prior record to support his battle decisions in the present? In the future?

Th-wack.

Raph’s thoughts were smacked clear by an oar’s blade descending from the hazy heavens. Whether the hit helped prevent Raph from spiraling further was up in the air. For the sake of his pride, he hoped so. But it was equally as likely that it would only put him into a greater daze. Raph’s head was one of the few places that (were vulnerable) his shell didn’t cover after all.

A hot flash of embarrassment battled the cold numbness that had seeped throughout his body while plunging below the fridged water for the second time. It was quickly overtaken by a burning hope flickering to life and warming his battle-weary senses. What did oars push? Boats! And what pushed oars? People! (Usually!)

Raph broke back above water again, blinking away the rivulets trying to collect around his eyes. He suppressed a hiss at how the sensitive skin around his right eye stung, the back of his hand instinctively rising and rubbing salt into the area further. (ouch)

Now aware of potential dangers lingering above, Raph could spot the wavering shadows of oars through the mist if he squinted tight enough and angled his head, so his left eye was more forward-facing. The shadows were lined up in a row and rose and dipped in sync, only flashing into direct sight shortly before breaking through the waves and ascending back into the fog.

Kicking forward a few feet, Raph could have melted in relief once his claws (wow, when was the last time he’d clipped those monsters, he normally stayed on top of that) connected with solid wood. A boat! Even though the weather made it hard to tell for certain- Raph could gather that it was quite large. Not the biggest he’d ever seen of course. Certainly not the size of the one Mikey threw during their first bout with the Shredder. But one hundred percent the biggest wooden boat he’d encountered. And it was man(?)powered too. He’d seen at least 5… no… 8 oars in his peripherals rising and falling. There had to be more he was missing. And that was only on this side too. He’d be surprised if fewer than twenty people were driving the vessel forward. Not only that. Twenty people strong enough to drive the vessel forward.

As much as Raph wanted to pull himself out of the water (was he starting to lose feeling in his toes?), stabbing uncertainty prickled fluidly down his shoulders. Without knowing his brothers were on the boat (unlikely but…please?), revealing himself to 20+ potential hostiles or humans wouldn’t do any good. Even if he did win, could Raph even pilot something this size on his own?

Probably not. Raph was big, but without connecting with his ninpo (pspspsps ninpo, help a turtle out!)- he was still only one body. Looks like he was stuck sticking to the ninja aspect of his training for a while longer. The fog kept him from being seen above, the crashing waves covered any sound… and hitching a ride helped keep him from burning through his dwindling energy supply any faster. That was at least a positive direction. He could deal with his next steps and adjust his plan once he had solid ground underfoot.

Gritting his teeth together, Raph dug his claws harshly into the weathered wood to secure him to the boat’s port side. He couldn’t risk the waves that battered his shell knocking him loose and returning him to the hostility of the open sea. That’s where he stayed, locked in place as he retreated far enough into his mind to ignore the physical exhaustion circulating through his body while also maintaining enough awareness to remain above the water safe and unseen.

Vague details ebbed and flowed from his stream of consciousness while the passage of time trickled away unceremoniously and unmetered. It was… meditative almost. Like during their brief imprisonment under Draxum when he was still the Baron. It was a bit funny how the threat of danger made this state easier to reach than in the comforts of his bedroom (he’d tried). It was a shame his ninpo wasn’t within reach… it’d be nice to at least see Gram-Gram. Maybe she’d have some kind of guidance.

There were more yells, orders to row maybe… Raph could hear better now that he was closer to the source. Though still not within range to understand what was being said. Even if he was, the words didn’t sound like English. He couldn’t put a finger on what made him know that. Leo could probably point it out, he had a better ear for this stuff. However, there was an edge of familiarity that struck Raph the longer he strained his tympanum to eavesdrop. Something comforting… like falling asleep to a lullaby.

Oh. Oh! Of course! Japanese!

JAPANESE?!?

The realization startled Raph fully back into his body, the ridges of his brow pressing together seamlessly- as if following a worn footpath back to one another. New York was a hub for many people and cultures. Both above and below ground. It was rarer not to catch snippets of people speaking in other languages on the days he and his brothers left the sewers. Yet something felt different here. His body buzzed with unease and the off-kilter sensation that he was out of place somehow. An impatient beast clawed at his willpower, demanding to be fed answers. It wanted him to climb further, risk everything- for some crumb of understanding.

The beast was left hungry, its presence shoved sharply away into the backdrop of his mind by two new developments forming in the upcoming waters. Dark shapes were growing amid the clouds like moisture absorbing into cloth, blooming rapidly across the horizon ahead of them. At the sight, Raph couldn’t help but be reminded of Mikey’s unfinished paintings leftover from before the invasion. It was reminiscent of how his brother started his backgrounds, a hazy outline that promised more layers in the future. His tired muscles could have cried in happiness because even without understanding what would soon make up the foreground of his destination, there was one absolute truth ahead.

Land!

Oh, sweet relief.

But- what was that smudge there… closer ahead? It was too small to be anything notable. Fortunately, Raph wasn’t forced to live with yet another mystery spinning his reality around like a flipped water bottle as he homed in on the shape. Unfortunately, the icy realization revealed to him by another lightning strike was probably worse.

Another boat. It was low to the water, only likely to hold a handful of average-sized people or a singular mutated alligator snapping turtle. No oars or sail- it was drifting an uncharted path fueled only by the ocean’s wrath. An unmerciful wrath directing the small vessel (a fishing boat maybe? It seemed like a canoe of sorts) smack straight in the larger (also unmerciful) boat’s course.

They weren’t slowing down.

They must not see the boat below the cover of fog and mist.

Only Raph could see them. (Oh, for the love of-)

Using his claws, Raph drug himself across the boat’s side until he was at its bow- straining his eyes to watch the other vessel. There was no time to both swim to the little boat and pull it out of harm’s way. Not with the speed they were traveling at right now. It still had to be done, despite the impossibility… so screw it! Decision time!

CREA-RACK

Raph’s claws sent chunks and splinters of wood spraying down into the waters around him as he pulled a wood plank from the boat’s hull. He hurled it away with a huffed snarl, forcing himself to take a few deep breaths and prepare for action. The waves crashing against the side began to drive water past the new wound, with a chorus of startled cries echoing from within. Later, Raph knew he’d be in the right mind to be horrified by the minor destruction. (like… why?? What could have compelled him to think this was the best way to slow the situation down?) But for now, he had a job to do.

Raph pushed away from the boat like a competitive swimmer launching off their block, powering through the less-than-stable feeling that radiated through his body. Cutting through the waves was unreasonably more difficult than it was before he’d reached the boat. Raph was tired. Real tired. The end of fighting Shredder for three days tired. But that didn’t matter- he could push past the unrelenting exhaustion and confusion. All he had to do was get the boat. Get the boat. Make it to shore. Find his brothers. If he broke it down simple, he had no excuse but to succeed.

Once he grew within a few yards of the fishing boat, Raph pulled a deep breath before diving below the water. He couldn’t rely on the mist to hide him from whoever was in the smaller craft. The boat was too low to the water to provide any coverage. And he really, really did not want to have to try to keep anyone from freaking out while also trying to get to land at the same time.

If swimming above the water with an unlimited supply of oxygen had been draining, the final stretch underwater until Raph finally felt his foot sink down into loose, wet sand was near torturous. Logically, it had only taken minutes. But the time stretched on unnaturally, prolonging his escape to more pertinent problems. He braced himself once both feet were secure underneath his body, giving the boat a final harsh shove toward shore.

With enough distance again between Raph and any prying eyes, he took another wobbly step forward and lifted his shoulders above water. He only rose high enough to spy the fishing boat berth upon the shore, relaxing and standing to his full height once it was reabsorbed by the cover of fog. It turned the craft into a hazy shape, from which another figure slowly emerged. The silhouette dropped away from the boat, stopping and leaning down to pull something out from inside. Another figure… a smaller figure. The original pulled the latter to its chest before running out of view.

A burst of warm saltwater cut tracks through the drying seawater that covered Raph’s face, leaving an icky tacky sensation behind. He wiped at his left cheek to clear the discomfort and choked down a quavering breath that rattled in his chest.

(Come on big guy, keep it together. You’ll see them soon. You’ll find them.)

He turned his head, choosing to ignore how the world swirled and swayed around him at the simple gesture. He could still make out the larger boat blob shape moving once more- despite the sea, sky, and clouds seeming to smear together around it. The ship was now both closer and further away. Closer to shore- but angled to land at a different stretch of the beach. They’d make it, damage or not. They all made it.

Reality stuttered and Raph found himself on his knees, dangerously close to faceplanting back into the water and breathing in a nice wet lungful. His hands shot out to catch himself, throbbing numbly as they pressed into the sand. It was a brutal combination of fine grit and ragged rock, not a surprise considering the view to Raph’s left, opposite where the boats had come ashore.

In the distance it would take to span a few rooftops, the safe shoreline transitioned into ruthless cliffs. Craning his neck to attempt a view of the top would be useless in the persistent rain, even if he wasn’t observing the world through a smudged lens. Raph’s weary core twisted into a pit, feeling small as a tot once again in the face of nature’s unrelenting vastness. All hopes to head in that direction were dashed. As was his chance to retreat a distance away from humanity to recover. He needed a safe place to breathe, until he at least felt like he could throw a punch without befriending the floor. (Where was a sewer grate when you needed one?)

Raph moved forward steadily, running on pure stubborn fumes to trek out of the water. The heavy numbness that weighed at his limbs at least provided a dull buffer against the biting wind nipping at his increasingly exposed water-slick skin.

Small victories.

He only wished the numbness would stop invading on his decision. Chance the dangerous cliffs for shelter… (no way he’d be able to climb them right now, Raph learned a thing or two about limits from a bus. A bus that he could throw a respectable distance now… but the point still stood) or risk being discovered while resting within walking distance of humanity. Raph hated two choice questions. You’d think they’d have easier answers if there were only two options. Yes or No. True or False. Safe or Not. (lifeordeath).

He didn’t get to choose.

----------------------------------------------------------

Raph was moving. Someone(thing?) was moving him. Chattered tones danced overhead, one light and clear while the other hushed and sharp. They may as well be passing through cloth for how well he could understand them. He should be feeling uneasy. Some form of alarm or another. Raph had lost track of how many unique flavors he’d sampled over the years.

Yet, all he felt was weightless. Small. In an unalarming sense. (third time’s a charm, hmm?) More like being a child, cradled safely while being carried from the living room to bed. All that was missing was a hushed lullaby whispered into his shoulder.

Ah… his cheek was warm again. A hand too small to be his own wiped the moisture away.

----------------------------------------------------------

(Hot)

Everything was hot. No need for any other fancy word- burning, boiling, scorching- it all just meant hot and sweaty and everything Raph couldn’t handle in his anxious confusion. Hadn’t he just been freezing his shell off? There wasn’t enough energy to dig deeper for an answer. His thoughts were coated in muck too thick to push away.

His mind, while currently only made of hot soup, still managed to realize that beyond the sweat beading over his shoulders and brow- he was now completely dry. The ground(?) he was splayed on was padded, a stretch of soft fabric tangled between his legs- oh.. was he sick?

How nice of his brothers to take care of him… he must really be out of it. Huh. It was early in the year for rat flu. He had to be in stage one though. One hundred percent. There was no other reason why he’d be this hot. A nauseous, room-spinning hot. Without even the strength to lift his eyelids, all Raph could do was endure the churning of his head and gut.

Gentle fingertips were a small mercy when they pressed against his forehead. A broken churr rumbled from his chest in response to the simple relief. He vaguely felt fabric being pulled away from his skin, snapping from panic to indistinct understanding when a new, blissfully cool damp rag was reapplied. (still-hismask-wherewashismask?!) His heavy body refused to let him respond further, to sit up or blink, or do much more than pant quick breaths into the air.

But he was being watched over. Drifting was fine, someone had anchored him. He wouldn’t go too far.

----------------------------------------------------------

Why was he here? They were both here! They should NOT BE ALLOWED HERE!

Todd’s First Annual Food, Fun, and Family Festival was supposed to be a break from having to remember and reflect. It was a place to look to the future, whatever that meant. Some line that Splinter had fed them. It was sincere, sure- but Raph was getting older. He didn’t need to be pacified; he didn’t need to be told that it was okay to feel how he felt. It just made him kind of angry. Wasn’t that great? His family only wanted to help, and it was going to drive him up a wall. He wouldn’t admit it. Not even to himself.

Compared to seeing one of them, however? He saw red. Actual red, growing tighter around the edges of his vision as his inner ears rang in the background.

(Let’s leave it’s not worth it) (Why don’t we get some lemonade instead) (No- Raph’s right)

Heh. What Raph wouldn’t have given to hear that before their worlds had imploded for the second time. The words didn’t provide the comfort he’d hoped for from the time he’d sought them.  

Not with Hypno only paces ahead of them.

Everything passed so fast. The collision of fists against flesh, flurries of ninpo-powered motion, something purple hitting him in the chest hard and fast.

A menacing pink figure looming over his leader- his brother!

A flash of orange interception blasting him off his feet.

…

“Why won’t he wake up?”

“For the last time. I. Don’t. Know.”

“But I want him to!”

A heavy sigh. “I know you do.”

Raph’s eye ridges slotted together in concentration. He was awake… just give him a minute. Sure, his body was shaking from residual fever and his head may as well have been used as a punching bag- but he was awake.

Awake and not home. Shi-

Survival instinct slashed through the lingering weariness he’d been trapped under, springing him into an upright sitting position. His eyes darted haphazardly, not managing to take in his meager surroundings before landing on the source of chatter that had pulled him back to himself.

Two boys illuminated by soft candlelight. One taller and one smaller. The older couldn’t be more than 14 (at the latest). He couldn’t place the younger’s age, but he didn’t even reach his companion’s shoulders. They were both dressed in neutral-colored linen clothing (robes? Not like Dad’s… different.) and sandals. Suspicion and distrust were plain in the taller boy’s dark eyes; a stark contrast to the bubbly excitement reflecting in the other’s as he bounced in place.

“Hello Kappa!”

Chapter Text

One… Two… Three… Four… Five steps, and turn.

One… Two… Three… Four… Five steps, and turn.

Five steps of space- from side to side and front to back. He had enough room above to stretch his arms at full capacity.

It could be a lot worse. It could be a lot better.

But a cage was a cage was a cage was a prison.

Leo’s eyes hadn’t stopped flitting around the space since he’d come to hours beforehand. The room was plain. No windows or light. There was nothing identifiable that his eyes could settle on, nothing to curb his racing thoughts. No distractions. No brothers. No Hypno and no Meatsweats. 

There was only him and the cage, which he’d found to be constructed of wood and bamboo upon inspection. An odd choice if his captor knew what he was normally capable of. Leo was typically a difficult target to contain. But to be fair, the structure was doing its job. Keeping him in. He didn’t have the strength to bust out. Not like Raph. Even on days he didn’t feel like he got hit was a bus. The bars were only a few inches apart. Wide enough to put his arm through, but not his shoulder.

The room was plain. But it was the only clue he had in front of him to pick apart, the only crumb of information he had to work with. It had paper walls and sliding doors. Tatami mats. Only on the exterior of the cage. Wow, rude. His restless circling had already carved a path in the soft sand underfoot. A messy, wavering square fenced in by the confines of his cell.

Small…too small…the last prison had been

so

so

                                                        vast.

About around hour two of pacing, Leo’s mind had briefly entertained that the Japanese design could be a sign that he was dealing with the Foot. Hypno and that other guy had worked with them before. Who’s to say they hadn’t jumped at the role of turtle-napping and delivery service? Because they would. No doubt that they would.

But that didn’t track on multiple levels. Despite being a ninja clan, the Foot did not root themselves in tradition. The Foot Shack was evidence enough of that. Additionally, the invasion had all but decimated their forces. Casey-squared see Donnie, he knew math words! were handling the rest.

It also didn’t explain literally ANYTHING else.

His missing mask, his missing gear, his missing ninpo, his missing brothers- each detail stacked upon detail fed into his unwavering paranoia-driven energy. It was a stark difference from the woozy warbled world he’d woken to, temporarily warped by lingering symptoms of fever. Which was strange, he didn’t recall feeling sick recently. He had finally started feeling decent again actually. They’d been celebrating! Heat-flushed scales, full-bodied ache, uncoordinated movement, disoriented thoughts…

In face of the snap crackle pop anxiety zapping through his nerves now, he could almost mourn the muted senses he’d been pulled from. But that would be ridiculous. He didn’t deserve have that luxury. The longer he was incapacitated, the longer it took to get out of wherever he was. The longer he didn’t have a visual on his brothers. How could he have lost any one of them again? They could be in danger, and he would have no idea- all because he was stuck in this stupid room! HaHa… it would be funny if it wasn’t so sad.

One… Two… Three… Four… Five steps.

Instead of turning, Leo reached out to grip a bar in each hand and leaned his head against the wood. He increased his grip once his arms started to tremble, ignoring the rough wood pressing splinters into his palms. He clutched the cage he was trapped in like a lifeline… like it alone would hold him together hahaha. The silence, a vast and still void that closed in and pulled breath from his lungs, was killing him.

Something had to happen. He had to make something happen.

With a shaky inhale through his nose, Leo turned his frantic search inward for answers he knew wouldn’t surface. Just like the first time, moments after he’d woken alone, disoriented, and freaked out. Nothing. Instead of the deep well of familiar energy rushing through his body like swirling rapids, he only found a dripping trickle. A drought-dry riverbed that should be lush with exhilaration, the timeless feeling of weightlessness, and the breathless moments that follow laughing too hard with a loved one.

Where the hell was his ninpo? There was no way they caused this. No way! But they were the only ones he knew that could rip this piece away from him. From ALL OF THEM.

Leo couldn’t feel the gentle humming call of his swords. Even back on that day, when his swords were just swords and he couldn’t portal if he tried, he had heard that hum. The hum of focused, electrifying energy singing from his blades- a song that kept in time with the rapid-paced rhythm of his thoughts, of his heart, of his soul.

They’d slipped from his fingers. He saw pink and let them slip from his fingers. What was wrong with him?

He’d only been suffocated by this cold, unsettling radio silence once before. In there. He’d faced a complete disconnect once the tear in New York’s sky was sealed. Even now there was a piece of Leonardo that would never come home from that place. He’d lost one sword when he’d returned to the other. And it was happening again, but worse. Both swords were gone.

Eugh boy, he was going to be sick.

This was not a time to panic! Get. It. Together.

Ice flushed through Leo’s veins, simultaneously heightening and dulling his senses the second footsteps pat-pat-pat-ed into hearing range and interrupted his thoughts. They echoed in the silence extending beyond the scope of his walls, each step spiking a dose of adrenaline through his body. They weren’t masked. Not his brothers. They weren’t agitated. Not looking to fight. Hopefully. Plain normal footsteps outside of this plain normal room that made no plain sense.

He was facing the sliding door before it could even open, wide-eyed and defensive. Soon after, the widening doorway washed the room’s bare interior with a flickering warm orange light that Leo almost flinched away from.

Donnie was yelling but Leo couldn’t focus. Burning. His baby brother was so hot-he was burning!

Leo shook away his unease and impatiently dove into analyzing his first source of new stimuli after far too much nothing. Suspicious eyes scanned over the stranger with a barely restrained fervor, desperate for some semblance of understanding. Just like Donnie had to understand the how behind the nature of things and Mikey had to understand the who behind a person, Leo couldn’t accept not knowing the why of a situation.

A woman. About his height, either a young adult or late teen, with long, shining black hair and dark eyes that widened in surprise as their eyes met. It took a few heavy moments of unrestrained eye contact for Leo to wrangle his face man persona into gear, hoping that his grin was more charming than off-putting.

“Well, if it isn’t my wake-up call. Right on time.” Leo trilled, letting go of the bars in favor of leaning against the structure, arms slung above his head in faux-casual contentment. “What time’s check-out?”

A bucket slid from the woman’s shock-slacked fingers, sending water spilling over her sandals and darkening the patterned fabric of her floor-length bottoms. Were they bottoms? A skirt? Or was it a robe of some kind? She stumbled backward with a panicked yelp, her elbow ripping through one paper panel of the partially open screen door in uncoordinated, blind shock.

Leo let his arms fall back down to rest at his sides, hands popping up into a ‘hey hey hey, c’mon don’t be scared, trust me- your friendly neighborhood turtle teen’ position, knowing that it would make no difference in soothing the rattled human.

“It’s ok-aaaaay’nd she’s gone.” Leo huffed, watching the woman bolt back down the hall. Her footsteps were now a frantic PATPATPAT, in stark contrast to her gentle approach. He strained to hear her frightened cries echo down the hall, eye ridges pressing together in thought once he pegged the language as Japanese.

It didn’t take long for another rapid chorus of footsteps to thunder back to the open doorway, several bodies casting shadows against the back wall. Leo grit his teeth and narrowed his eyes as four men slid into the room, breaking into pairs and flanking each side of the exit. Again, no familiar faces. Not so friendly faces either. The expressions all mirrored the same flavor of stony and untrusting. Fantastic!

They didn’t look prepared to assemble. Leo had rolled out of bed and into battle enough times to see the signs. The ruffled hair tied up loose and untidy. The slight daze gleaming in their eyes. Instead of a uniform or complete outfit, they were wearing only long, lightweight shirts that reached just below their knees. No gear. No sheaths for their drawn swords.

Leo felt the pressure in the air shift at the sight, factoring in how the weapons changed the dynamic he was playing in. Despite being behind bars, they obviously still saw him as a threat. That could either lean into his favor unlikely or take an abrupt turn into the no good, very bad territory. A territory that Leo was starting to feel a bit too well-versed in.

Leo’s attention shot to the doorway at the sound of more movement. Another man, more put together and poised than the others, stepped foot into the room with the woman from before trailing behind.

Just by the way he moved and held himself, Leo could tell without a doubt that he was the person in charge here. An answer that just led to another dozen infuriating questions. Especially considering it was still someone that Leo had never seen in his life. Of course, he couldn’t have been lucky enough to be kidnapped by someone he had some sort of background on. It was harder to play off a blank sheet.

How had he arrived here from a normal villain of the week encounter? Was nothing sacred anymore? What happened to the good ol’ days of episodic television, with simple resolutions and good laughs over pizza afterward?

Leo took a step back each time the man took one of his own, keeping the same level of distance between him and the stranger. With the additional layers he was wearing, Leo couldn’t immediately spot a weapon, but it was a possibility that he didn’t want to chance.

One step.

He wasn’t a physically intimidating human. Taller than the woman, but shorter than two of the armed men. Average upon first look- yet was surrounded by an aura of effortless confidence. An adult- middle-aged maybe?

Two steps.

He moved with fluid elegance. Moved with purpose. It was reminiscent of the way Draxum would hold himself back when they were still at odds. A man on a mission, with his sights set on Leo.

Three steps.

The clothing he wore spoke of luxury, noticeably so even in the dim lighting and distance. Loose, flowing pants that could be either high-quality linen or silk. It was a stunning dark blue patterned with triangles embroidered in shining thread, a lighter blue in contrast. He wore what looked like a wide-shouldered coat with large, flowing sleeves over a white silk undershirt. It was the same blue as the pants, a matching set.

Four steps.

Were those actual triforces embroidered on either side of his chest? Kind of a serious getup for a Zelda fan.

Five steps.

Leo felt his shell clack against the bars behind him- having run out of room to continue his retreat. The man stood at the front of the cage, expressionless as he observed Leo in a manner that made his skin crawl beneath his scales. He was being observed like an exhibit. The closest he’d gotten to this was when he and Mikey were on display after finding out Jupiter Jim was one planet short of a solar system. This was better and worse. At least Mikey wasn’t here. Well, maybe Mikey was currently under this type of scrutiny. He had no way of knowing still! Come on Face Man- do your job!

“Like I was saying to your friend earlier- I am so loving the hospitality. But you didn’t need to ALL come see lil’ ol’ me.” Leo hummed, grinning brightly. “Great place you have here. But I have dinner plans. Maybe a show if we can get tickets, you know how Broadway is. I really should get going.”

Instead of answering, the man began to chatter with the group in Japanese, all without moving his eyes from Leo. His voice was clear and commanding, radiating an effortlessness that Leo could almost envy. He seemed so sure of himself, which was only reinforced by how intently the rest of the group hung onto his words.

Leo leaned back against the bars with a scowl, pretending to look over his newly painted, manicured nails in fake disinterest over the conversation. Between subbed Lou Jitsu movies, subbed anime, and the Triolingo app- he was able to make out portions of what was being discussed. Their surprise at him being awake. How he looked odd for a Kappa. If he was dangerous. The question of what to do next.

He cleared his throat at that, scrounging together a response that he hoped would at least be understandable in Japanese, even if it wasn’t perfect. “Uh- hi! Sorry to interrupt, but it’s rude to talk about someone like they aren’t there.” All eyes shot to him and the conversation between the humans halted. The leader’s neutral expression finally cracked into a smile, eyes alight with dark curiosity.

“You can talk.” He mused, looking Leo up and down with elevated interest. Weird choice of words. Huh. Shouldn’t he at least have understood that he was talking before? English wasn’t universal- sure. But it was at least widespread enough to be understood as spoken word. As sentient speech.

“Yes, so no need for… all this. We can talk this out, right?” Leo said with a wry grin, wearing it like armor against the force before him. A bullshitter can spot another bullshitter from a mile away, and Leo was getting rancid vibes from the man. “I don’t mean you any harm. So, we could move somewhere more comfortable? Eh?”

Leo fought down a grimace as the man laughed, cruel and sharp.

“Do I look foolish? I know better than to trust-”

Leo couldn’t make out the rest of the statement. This definitely hurt his ability to weed out any useful information. He already was feeling exhausted and disoriented, he didn’t need any other tallies against him right now.

“So, why are you here kappa?” The man finished, now wielding an accusatory tone. One that promised retribution if crossed. Not a voice that Leo had any desire to grapple with. But since when did he get what he wanted?

“Well, that is a question I also want answered.” Leo struck back, gesturing around at the cage he was contained in. “Why am I here?”

The group behind the man exchanged looks at his question, now invested in the brazen attitude against their leader.

Leo couldn’t understand most of the response but could pull out a few details. None of which filled him with much hope. The household found him after they heard a loud crash outside. He’d been found unconscious. Alone. At least his brothers weren’t also in cages. But again, more questions were in play now. The most important being if they were all okay. Please let them be okay. He couldn’t live with himself if they weren’t. He’d been hurt and they’d taken him in, where he’d been passed out for-

“A week? No… No… come on… no way.” Leo laughed. His heart rate was elevating to a point he couldn’t ignore, causing his hands to tremble enough that he couldn’t hide it, even while gripping the bars behind him.

None of this felt real. From the room to the people, the way they dressed and acted- it almost felt like he’d stepped back in-

The tension bled from Leo’s body, flowing down from his panic-stricken brain and through the heels of his feet into the sand below. His breath choked off as his chest constricted, a million thoughts struggling to swim through his addled mind. He cracked his beak open, hating how small and cracked his voice sounded in the room.

“What year is it?”

The question seemed to catch the leader off guard, but only for a moment. His voice rang clear as he answered. More words Leo didn’t understand. Something something- “-brother of Earth, Tiger.”

So, no numbers. Leo at least knew all his numbers. That was… this was a lot to take in. They must be pretty far back. Too far back for Leo’s taste. The idea of time travel lost its fun when it brought news of destruction and failure. The idea of time travel also lost its fun when he learned that at one point it came at the cost of his little brother.

The orange candle glow from outside the room was too much. It curdled the acid in his stomach, letting it bubble up and burn the back of his throat. He had to know what happened. When it was just him, he could roll with some degree of uncertainty. But this now wasn’t about him. Mikey. This had to be Mikey, none of the rest of them could pull this off. At another time he would feel at least some degree of pride in his brother’s ability, but it was swallowed completely by dread and horror-driven fear.

“-Hello? Kappa?” The words pulled Leo out of his stupor, and back into the situation at hand.

“Oh, right. Sorry. Knew that. I was just testing you. Haha.” Leo replied flatly. He took a shaking step forward. Another. Until he was toe-to-toe and face-to-face with the man, separated only by the bars between them.

“Why did you help me?” he asked, seriousness having bled into his voice, only minutely hiding the tension and worry lingering underneath.

The smile on the leader’s face only grew. It would appear cordial and non-threatening on any other face. But his eyes. They reflected a desire Leo had seen before. In Draxum. In the Shredder. In THEM. A desire for power. A desire for EVERYTHING.

“Because you are an honored guest. A gift.” Simple words. Words that Leo could understand completely. But he was anything but reassured.

“Well, I do appreciate being a guest. And I am grateful for the help. Really.” Leo lied, struggling to find the correct words. “But I’m okay now. I’m awake. I can uh…” he faltered. What was a word that summed up ‘I can fend for myself so you can let me the hell go’?

“Ah, but you misunderstand.” The man interrupted. “You are an honored guest. A gift for my clan. Yokai, kappa especially, have grown into a problem. There is too much to consider at this time…” something something “war on all sides…” something something “Because of your arrival, we have been given a chance to show our strength. A reminder of our greatness. A symbol of our power.”

Leo balked at that, knowing that the acidic combination of fury and disgust that seared hot along the back of his neck and shoulders was reflecting unfiltered and true in his eyes.

“I am not a symbol for anything.” He snarled in English, all reason evaporating from his senses for a solid beat. There was so much to unpack from the man’s statement, but Leo didn’t want to touch the reasoning behind his containment with a ten-foot pole. He just wanted out.

(Get your head on right Leo. Losing your cool won’t get you out of here. Deep breaths. In. Out.)

Shut up Mind Raph.

The man only cocked an unimpressed eyebrow at Leo’s outburst, crossing his arms. Not disturbed in the slightest. He spoke again, spouting off a line of words Leo missed as he forced his body and mind to cool off. It was almost for naught when he caught the word savage thrown into the mix. Oh, this guy was shooting way up on his shit list by the second.

However, it did give him a new thread to work with. If this guy was so dead set on him being a kappa, Leo could roll with that. Any good improv comic could adapt to whatever scene the audience craved.

Leo stood straighter, now giving the man a once over of his own, mirroring the same body language that his captor had been displaying earlier. “You can’t say I didn’t try. They aren’t going to like this.” He mused, clicking his tongue and shaking his head from side to side. “I’m surprised they haven’t come by now. But they will. You can plan on it.”

“I do plan on it.” His captor shrugged. Nothing in his tone or posture suggested he was lying.

Hold up.

Leo struggled to remain neutral at his bluff being called right off the bat. “I’m telling you- it isn’t a good idea. You got me while I was down. They won’t be so easy. They’ll be angry to see… this whole situation.” Leo maintained, raising his arms to direct attention to the cage. He swallowed, mouth dry and uncomfortable. His mind traitor reflected on the water spilled by the woman earlier. In hindsight, maybe he should have evaluated the situation better before speaking at the start of all this. Joke’s on him! Haha.

“That is a given. We will be ready. If we are the clan to defeat the Yokai threat-” More words Leo couldn’t understand. Words that Leo needed to understand. What kind of monstrous acts could he be describing? He should have brushed up on Yokai history at some point. He’d at least have some pointers. But how could anyone ever plan for this? It was an impossible situation!
Life seemed to enjoy giving him those. What was the deal? Where was the punchline? Was HE the punchline?

“You’ll lose.” Leo snapped, his eyes boring directly into the other man’s- gaze manic and wild as adrenaline reignited through his veins. He knew that at some point, the Yokai were driven underground. Japan did have its own Hidden City after all. When was that constructed? And where? It would be nice to know if he had a place to lay low once he got out of this mess. But this guy had no idea. Yokai were a threat. Enough of a danger to be under lock and key. “You will LOSE.”

Another rage-inducing smile. “We’ll see, kappa.” The leader turned to leave, putting a hand up and gesturing for his entourage to follow. Back out of the room. Leaving Leo alone.

“Wait- don’t go!” he yelled, gripping the bars as he watched the humans filter back into the hall. “We can talk! Make a deal that works for us both! We can both have what we want!”

The door slid shut and he was left in the room. The bare, mocking, plain room. The idea of going back to hours of nothingness pulled a miserable laugh from the empty pit dwelling in his chest. With a frustrated roar, he kicked one of the cage bars and instantly went down as pain radiated up his leg, centered around his knee. Hahaha ouch.

He sat up and pulled his knees to his chest with a sniffle, casting a blank look at the candlelight filtering through the torn panel punched through the door.

Leo’s grip on Mikey’s arm was desperate, seeing the gold cracks glowing brighter by the moment. He’d pulled his brother away from pink tentacles, not caring for how they also began to form golden cracks of their own. He saw Raph and Donnie reach out... felt the heat of Mikey’s ninpo sweltering around them.

His vision was overcome by blinding orange, with highlights of blue, purple, and red at the edges.

Leo buried his head in his hands, unable to push down the tide of emotions he’d managed to trap away up until now. A hiccupped sob squeaked through the cracks of his fingers, followed by wetness escaping down his face. Even as drained as he was, at least one part of him was freed, so he allowed himself to cry bitter and scared tears. Bitter about another good day lost. Scared for his family.

Leonardo Hamato cried. Loud and hard. Only later did he find two small cups of water and rice outside the bars of his prison, placed there without his notice.