Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

During the initial construction of Todd’s Puppy Sanctuary, Donnie hadn’t put much thought into using the space for actual sanctuary. The extra effort he and Mikey had put in at the time came from the desire to do the best job possible. A used RV to trade in for the sickest prop vehicle B-movie history had ever seen did help sweeten the pot. They were teenagers, after all, not saints.  

He first visited the idea for a more legitimate emergency base after the Shredder’s rise to power had forced them to abandon their home and city. Minor adjustments had already been made, as an effort to protect their overtly friendly host and his hoard of premature canines. Donnie didn’t believe in leaving a favor unpaid. Especially with his family’s safety being involved in the mix. Major plans for a complete security overhaul were in the drafting stages on his workbench, as Donnie was also a proponent of whole-assing everything he did. He knew he had shortcomings, but half-assing was not one of them.

At the time, his building fervor had been clocked as stress-induced paranoia by his family, and to a lesser degree, himself. Now, however- he could not have been more grateful for the weekslong nightmare marathon that starred sentient armor, ruined tech, and found family lost too soon. The hidden underground lodgings were worth waking to a cold sweat and the desperation to have his family accounted for.

If they also led to the still top secret ‘Project: Where’s Wal-Nardo?’ that was Donnie’s business.

The validation was more bitter than sweet. This temporary stronghold was theoretically one of the few projects he’d built with his own hands that remained standing. His second lab, reduced to rubble. The Turtle Tank… he didn’t even know how to start on what happened to the Turtle Tank, other than absolute Lovecraftian horror. Einstein forbid that ever happen to any tech he had in contact with his skin or shell.

Another fortunate detail surrounded the bunker’s size. In his tendency to overthink and overprepare, several… dozen extra bedrooms had been included on the build- with a sizable common area and provision-stocked kitchen. Mikey may have taken point on that project, formulated on a weekend when the two of them needed a break from whatever leadership-based drama was playing out at the time.

So it was here in this unexpected stronghold that four mutant turtles, two humans, the disbanded Evil League of Mutants, and countless puppies gathered. The non-canine individuals sat at a large table, glasses of iced lemonade inexplicably in hand as half the group tried to shelf the thought that Todd shouldn’t be the only rodent mutant in the room, while the other half just didn’t care. Being here was a matter of survival to them, not comradery.

Leo and Raph sat opposite of each other, making a point to avoid looking in the other’s direction, a stark contrast to Mikey being plastered to Donnie’s side. It was less and less uncommon for Donnie to allow these periods of contact. If he, the resident family bad boy was rattled and terrified after their sudden and terrifying retreat from New York- it was a marvel that his little brother was still tear-free behind his sniffles. Or was that worse? Donnie really wasn’t the one to ask here.

Casey still had her titanium hockey stick leaning against the table, a new addition to her arsenal crafted by Donnie as a ‘You sold us out, but then regretted it- Welcome to the family!’ gift. It was being ignored in favor of the disgruntled teen rolling her eyes as April applied a butterfly bandage to a nasty gash that split her eyebrow. It would be a prime moment to tease in normal circumstances if the sorrow and extinguished hope reflecting in their eyes weren’t there.

It was Raph who broke the silence, standing and clearing his throat while his eyes panned over the table, still skipping over Leo without hesitation. “We’ve all seen what is starting to happen out there. What is already happening. So, it's only right that we put our differences aside and make a-”

“Oh? I’d like to solve the puzzle, Pat!” Leo’s voice cut sharper than his blades, his chair falling backward as he shoved himself out of it. “Let me guess, we need a plan? Just like I’ve been saying we need for I don’t know… since a giant flesh ball that shoots lasers appeared above New York? Do we now need a plan Raph-a-doodle Dandy?” he finished, his gaze zeroing in on the snapper with barely restrained fire.

Leo’s hands flew around in wild gesticulation as he spoke, forcing Raph to lean out of range. His mouth pressed into a tight line; a well-practiced mask he used with them all when he needed to suppress his true emotions. With how often he’d been using it as of late, it may as well be a patented biggest brother move. His fists clenched and unclenched in time with his breathing, even as it picked up in cadence- an effort to remain calm that was only doomed to fail in spectacular fashion.

“What? Got nothing to say now? You haven’t been able to shut up about anything for months, and now you have nothing to say to me?” Leo continued, jabbing Raph’s plastron with an accusatory finger. Raph quickly slapped the hand away, a frustrated growl managing to escape past his teeth.

“What is your problem, Leo?” Raph erupted, slamming a palm down on the table. The vibrations sent through the wood rattled the ice in everyone’s glasses and the group’s eyes collectively ping-ponged between the snapper and slider as they clashed. “I never said we didn’t need a plan. We just had no intel on what those things are capable of. I wasn’t going to risk any of you by charging in right away! And I’m glad I didn’t. If we didn’t know then what we know now, they would have wiped us out and you know it.”

Leo scoffed, a bitter and hollow sound in the face of Raph’s rebuttal. “Oh? I know it, do I? No! I don’t! Because you wouldn’t even let us try!” Leo’s voice strained at the insistence of his words. “Do you not have any faith in us? After everything we’ve been through together? The odds back then seemed impossible too. We could have stopped this!”

Raph’s snaggletooth worried the bottom of his beak, eyes still locked on Leo’s in the world’s most scathing blinking contest. A tremble had started to travel from his hands and up his arms, despite the rest of his body being held deathly still.

“But no! We didn’t do anything!” Leo spewed, a breathless and frenzied laugh bubbling up from his chest. “We waited and they got the jump on us. We waited and had to scramble to even get out of our beds, our home, without any kind of preparation. We waited because you couldn’t let me do my job! The job that Dad trusted me with. Because he at least trusted me!”

The trembling in Raph’s shoulders stilled as he jabbed Leo’s plastron with an accusing finger of his own.

“And look where that got him. At least I didn’t leave Dad to die!”

The fight left Raph’s body the moment his words hit the air, distress flashing across his expression as he processed what he’d said. “Leo- I didn’-”

He didn’t have a chance to finish before Leo vaulted over the table, tackling Raph to the floor. His fist landed a blow to Raph’s face before they had a chance to hit the ground. The next swing didn’t land, halted by golden chains wrapping around the two and ripping them apart. The room’s attention drew to the other end of the table, where Donnie had his hand settled securely on Mikey’s shaking shoulders. Tears had at last overcome the emotional dam shoddily holding back the whiplash from the last 24 hours, spilling freely down the youngest’s face.

“Thank you, Mikey. Very good. If you could return our brothers to their seats, I would be appreciative.” Donnie said, voice level despite the fury radiating from his expression and posture. He’d drawn his bō the moment Leo had moved to jump over the table, now holding it to his side opposite Mikey.  Once the restrained brothers were seated again, Donnie waited until their guilty gazes turned to him before speaking.

“I have had enough of this. From both of you.” He hissed, the months of built-up tension reverbing through the statement. “You are both wrong. You both know you are wrong and you can’t get over yourselves long enough to see it. I’ve had enough!”

“Donnie-”                   “Dee-”

“No! NO! I’ve listened to you two going at each other for longer and harder than we’ve fought some of the individuals in this room- no offense.” Donnie snapped, nodding at a few bewildered faces that were unfortunate witnesses to their dirty laundry. Figurative and literal. “This can’t go on any longer. I will not allow it.”

Donnie carefully directed Mikey to sit back down in his seat, running a comforting hand over his youngest brother’s head before settling his expression to a serious, business-ready mask. There had been far too much emotion flying around after the day they’d had, thank you very much. Everyone needed a dose of logic, an idea of change moving forward. They had to present a united front, or the chance of infighting taking them down before their new enemy did was higher than comfortable.

“As of now, this meeting will be conducted under Robert’s Rules of Order. Because that is what we need right now. Order.” He stated, remaining standing as he spoke. “As we are coming into this meeting without an agenda or pre-established business, I motion we start with some new business. Anyone second?”

April raised a cautious hand, seeming relieved to move into less charged territory. At a more light-hearted time, she would have smirked, quirked an eyebrow, and commented on how needlessly formal Donnie was being. But instead, she simply said, “Seconded.”

“Excellent, thank you April. We can address all our concerns and suggest solutions as we need, but first I would like to propose that our first item of business surround leadership. Does anyone second?”

Mikey’s voice was too small and too wet, almost pulling Donnie out of the put-together persona that he was attempting to hold together. “Seconded.”

“Wait- leadership? Donnie, we don’t need to talk about leadership. We have a leader.” Leo sounded a combination of hurt, uncertainty, and exhaustion- a sentiment that also reflected in his eyes as they met Donnie’s. It made Donnie’s chest ache, but he pushed on.

“I would agree with you normally Leo. But this is not a normal circumstance.” Donnie refuted, taking in a deep breath, “I suggest we take a vote.”

“Donnie, we’ve tried that before.” Raph cut in, his eyebrow ridges pressing together in exasperation, “When we were kids- we all voted for ourselves. It literally happens every time we try to take a vote. Every time.”

“Then what harm will taking a vote do? If we all vote for ourselves, we come back to square one. If we don’t, we will have a leader that the group chose, instead of being appointed. Does that sound fair?” Donnie reasoned, raising his hands to visualize the two paths.

Todd raised his hand next, waving it enthusiastically in the air, “Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh! Do we all get a vote? Because I feel that Captain Fluffybottoms is just the cutie to unite us all!”

Donnie’s eyebrow twitched, “We are not making a dog our leader. But yes… I suppose that because this is now beyond a family matter… everyone gets a vote.” He sighed. Please don’t let this get out of hand, they just had settled into some semblance of order. His robot arms popped out of his battleshell holding several scraps of paper and pens. “Everyone write down their vote and pass them back here.”

The process didn’t take long, lasting only a few minutes before a stack of folded papers and one origami crane courtesy of Casey made their way back in front of Donnie. To little surprise, it began to appear that everyone did in fact vote for themselves. Soon they were down to the last few slips sitting unopened next to the pile of tallied votes.

“Next… Captain Fluffybottoms. Really Todd?” Donnie groaned, giving their host a pensive side-eye. Todd shrugged, petting a chihuahua that had found her way onto his lap. Four votes left.

“Raph.” The snapper kept his gaze down.

“Leo.” His twin flashed him a wry smile.

“Donnie.” His handwriting, of course.

That left Mikey. And with all the other votes accounted for, this was looking to be a waste of time. Everyone (other than Todd) voted for themselves. Welcome back to square one, Donnie had hoped to avoid visiting again so soon. He picked up the last slip, unfolding it carefully and staring at it for a few moments with wide eyes.

“So, what does it say?” April asked, cocking her head to the side as she regarded Donnie’s reaction.

Donnie turned to Mikey, wringing his hands together as he tried to ignore how dry his mouth had gotten after reading the vote. “Are you sure?” he asked softly.

“Yeah.” Straight-forward, no razzmatazz. Donnie wasn’t sure he liked hearing Mikey so serious.

“Come on Donnie, just spit it out already.” Leo snipped, crossing his arms in an attempt to appear nonchalant, despite his leg bouncing fiercely under the table.

“Donnie.” He said, turning the paper around so it could be seen by the rest of the table.

“Two for Donnie?” Raph asked, settling back in his chair and nodding to himself. Not resigned, not excited- completely neutral.

“Yeah.” Mikey responded. “Two for Donnie.”

Despite how his heart pounded in his chest, Donnie straightened up and totally didn’t grip his bō tighter to support himself. Sure, he’d voted for himself. But he didn’t expect to win. He didn’t expect to be selected to lead. But he was. And now there were expectant, demanding eyes all set securely on him. Waiting for his next move.

Time to step up Donatello. Why couldn't Dad have seen this?

Donnie offered a forced smile, clasping his hands before him and letting his eyes pan over the group. He fell back into the air of faux confidence, knowing it was what everyone needed from him right now. He had to be that for his family. For the world. 

“Well, that’s settled then. Let’s move on. We have a lot to do.”

Chapter Text

Donnie missed coffee more than he missed the sun. Living underground wasn’t too much of an adjustment in their lives, all things considered. Not being able to go topside for anything beyond absolute necessity wasn’t unlike how Donnie remembered their early childhood. Just less safe. A lot less safe.

As a solar substitute- Donnie managed to rig their lighting system to filter through a consistent light cycle. It kept their circadian clocks regular and helped establish a much-needed routine after the rampant, widespread early-invasion chaos. Additionally, Draxum’s work in the greenhouse ensured that the food they’d finally been able to grow would supplement whatever was missing from natural light. Especially in their human residents, which now outnumbered mutants and yokai as of six months ago.

However, there was no substitute for coffee. And finding one was sadly at the bottom of Donnie’s list of priorities. So going on for a year, 2 months, and 5 days- nary a taste of caffeine hit his system in any way, shape, or form. But he wasn’t counting. Certainly not. He would never.

It was something he could typically ignore; he was busy enough that superficial thoughts such as desiring caffeine or inventing for pleasure did not have the ability to register on his bandwidth. How could they have a chance, when maintaining air filtration, water purification, intel scouting, and other vital tasks were living in his mind at all times of pseudo-day and pseudo-night?  

But then there were times like these.

Looking at the puddle of sick expelled all over his feet and lab floor, Donnie’s thoughts could only drift toward how he needed a cup of coffee to deal with this situation. A whole pot would be preferable.

Luckily for him, the closest thing he had to caffeine was only an arm’s length away.

“Oh-mi-gosh! Cassandra! Are you okay?” Mikey exclaimed, dashing to the side of Donnie’s ‘Head of Warfare and Defense’. He began rubbing gentle circles over her shoulders and helped her back to a fully standing position from where she’d abruptly lurched over.

“Ugh, what a waste.” Cassandra growled, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand as she glared at the ground. “MY APOLOGIES!” she continued, jumping right back into her typical volume and offering Donnie a curt bow. A remnant reflex from the Foot Clan that Donnie had just come to accept, even after many a reminder that it wasn’t necessary.

“Don’t worry about it. Just go see Leo for a health check to be safe. Do you mind helping her Mikey? We can continue our debrief later.” Donnie said tightly, fighting against the horrified screaming in the back of his mind. Over the last two years, he’d encountered much worse. Experiences that would haunt Donnie until the day he died. Yet at this moment, the simple puddle of vomit covering his feet was enough to make him want to rip his scales off and make a run for the space under his desk. His one place to retreat to when he needed more than two seconds to himself.

Maybe if he could find the resources, he could get April to modify a pair of boots for him. A pair of work overalls wouldn’t hurt either. There was so much gross shit in the apocalypse courtesy of the invaders (dubbed bubble gum bitches by Leo in placeholder of a real name). It almost felt targeted that he’d be leading the charge against an enemy with the most vile and toe-curling biology and weaponry imaginable. Donnie just wanted to take a torch to it all and be done with it sometimes.

Mikey flashed Donnie a quick thumbs up and tossed him a scrap of cloth from one of the makeshift work benches before directing Cassandra to the doorway. Donnie hummed his thanks, pulling the wood crate he’d been using as a desk chair over and sitting down to avoid tracking the mess elsewhere. He was only partway through cleaning off his feet with the rag before heavy footsteps announced his next visitor, right on time.

“Let me guess, Cassandra?” Raph asked, his snout scrunching at the sight and smell. Don’t think about the smell. Donnie looked up at his brother in mild confusion and curiosity. Even for Raph, that was a rather direct assessment. What his brother lacked in foresight; he made up in spades with intuition. Donnie’s interest was piqued.

“Yeah. Why?”

“Same thing happened a couple days ago when we were investigating movement on the eastern front. She was riding my shell.” Raph explained with an exaggerated shudder, eyes darting around for another means to help clean the mess. He grabbed a dented metal bucket and offered it to Donnie to deposit the dirtied rag, moving it out of sight once everything was handled.

Leave it to Raph to understand what Donnie needed, before he needed it. Be it years ago, Donnie would protest the fact to anyone and everyone that would listen. But time and revised priorities led him to abandon the knee-jerk reaction to reject help. In the name of survival, his ego was taken out back and removed from the equation. He’d seen how it corrupted communication. That, and he’d come to accept that without Raph’s influence, this entire operation would have collapsed the first time Donnie was ensnared by the siren song of solving this problem.

And what a problem it was. The resistance was to be his magnum opus. Solving the apocalypse and restoring the planet? Every scientific giant that came before would be dwarfed in comparison. Eat shit Newton!

Well, maybe his ego wasn’t completely removed from the equation. What was a turtle without ambition?

“I sent her to Leo. Hopefully this isn’t another new sickness. It was a hard enough time last winter. And we have less resources now than we did then. Maybe I’ll have April do some emergency inventory counts. I’d like to be prepared.” Donnie rattled off, pulling his legs up to sit cross-legged on the crate. “But that’s not what you came in to discuss. Did you and Leo get everything put together for the trip to Todd’s?”

Raph nodded in affirmation, the gleam in his eyes betraying how excited the snapper was to see their friend again. And the puppies. Mostly the puppies.

The splitting of their inner circle was tough but unavoidable. As the resistance grew, the need for space developed into a pressing concern. Morale was low and Donnie’s meager research on how to fight the invaders ground to a halt under the pressure.

It had only been two months in. Too soon to fail at the first roadblock. But they didn’t have the extra manpower or mutantpower to expand their capacity. And even if they did, it would be harder to remain undetected if the base grew larger and more active. More ants that could be tracked back to the anthill. After that, one well-calculated attack would cripple them. The resistance would be dead and gone, all because they put their trust in him.

Leo finding and recruiting DIGG on an “impromptu” scouting run was absurdly lucky. That’s how the slider would describe the story. Pure dumb luck. Donnie knew better, but never pressed. And if Leo woke up to a tin of tea and a no longer mint-condition Jupiter Jim 1000 hidden under his bunk the next day, that was just coincidence.

Now the resistance was ten bunkers strong, spread out from Long Island to Manhattan. All for the low, low price of ‘Metal Music and Mystery Meatloaf Monday’ every other week. Donnie was on-call for maintenance at literally any other bunker whenever it rolled around, but he couldn’t deny that it elevated morale. Things felt hopeful again in an age of bleak after that point.

“That is exactly what I like to hear, thank you dear brother.” Donnie mused, clasping his hands together as an anticipatory grin stretched over his face. “I do hope Todd’s been making use of his forge. I need more raw material for a few pending projects.”

Understatement of the decade. Between the invaders having the ability to control technology via biological manipulation and the devastation they wrought to the surface, Donnie was massively limited regarding the scope and intricacy of his projects. High-grade material certainly wasn’t falling from the sky now that manufacturing was all but nonexistent. It again brought reminders of their early youth, back when he’d been tearing toasters apart and scavenging for e-waste in the sewers.

He’d built himself into who he was out of stubbornness and scrap- this was just a return to form. Sure, it wasn’t flashy anymore, but his current tech still could do what his old tech was capable of. And thanks to a few mystic innovations, it was invader-proofed as well. Any interference and the parasite would receive a nasty high-voltage shock and the device would self-destruct.

Donnie pushed himself to his feet, checking his tech gauntlet as it pinged. Ah, Mikey and Leo were already in the garage. Cassandra must be fine. Best not to let those two grow bored and turn to mischief. He was still not pleased with the wizard sporting a comically detailed butt graffitied over the old school van he’d managed to repurpose. He did not care that ‘nose art’ was a wartime tradition and no he was not a killjoy for thinking so.

“Time to wrangle the knuckleheads?” Raph observed, rolling his shoulders back and stretching his arms from side to side.

“You know it. When we get there, who do you think will be wearing out who? Them or the dogs?” Donnie teased back, nudging Raph playfully as he made his way out of the door.

“Oh? The dogs have no chance. I’d bet an entire week of morning drills on it.”

“Ah-bap-bap, Raph-a-la, you know I don’t take any verbal bets. But I accept. We can draw up the contract on the drive.”

Even after seeing smoke billowing into the murky, polluted sky miles back- Donnie’s heart sunk past his stomach as the Party Wagon (a Mikey-generated moniker that stuck) sped into viewing distance of roaring flames. He silently thanked Gram-Gram that nothing vital was burning and nobody was in harm’s way. Anything on the surface left over from the Puppy Sanctuary had been abandoned after they went underground. It was now just a source of parts for repairs and furnishing new bunkers. But from how Mikey stiffened and pressed closer next to Donnie, he felt it too. Another creation from before, lost.

No time to mourn. There were more pressing matters at hand.

“Leo! Raph! You two find a way to keep this from spreading. See if you can get the flames put out. Contained at the very least. Mikey and I are going under. We need to see if Todd is still here.” Donnie commanded, switching to cursing under his breath as Raph laid on the brake and momentum slammed his face into the front seat.  

“What? No- we shouldn’t split up. We don’t know if there are any hostiles out there!” Raph protested, twisting back to give Donnie a strained expression. He was worried. They had been rather lucky until now, never having a direct attack on one of their bases. Donnie was also worried. Terrified really. He’d need to find out how this happened later and keep it from ever happening again. But right now, he needed to keep Raph’s head in the game.

“Mikey and I know this place top to bottom. We will be fine. In and out, Todd Scout’s honor.” Donnie replied, reaching over and giving Raph’s shoulder a squeeze to keep the snapper grounded. “I won’t let anything happen to us.”

“Yeah, come on big guy.” Leo chimed in, “The creek isn’t too far off. I’ve got an idea.” He continued, throwing open the van’s sliding side door with a flourish. He turned to Donnie as he hopped down into the gravel. “Need a portal underground? I’m sure your big brain has a plan to get in if the entrance is covered in fire oh captain, my captain. Butttt-“

Donnie rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. “Scoff. Of course I did. But as time is of the greatest importance, portal away.” He jumped out of the van, hearing the rest of his brothers pile out soon after. A blue portal warped open in front of Donnie and he sprinted through without even a look over his shoulder. He trusted that his brothers would succeed. Thinking otherwise was just giving up ahead of time.

He ground his heels into the ground to force a stop as he passed through the exit portal and into complete darkness and static thick silence. It was interrupted by the occasional crackle of damaged wiring, which did not instill a great deal of confidence that the bunker was not compromised. Donnie tapped into his ninpo, squinting his eyes as they adjusted to the purple light that emitted from his markings. It was joined by Mikey’s comforting orange light illuminating the darkness much more effectively.

Now what were they getting int-

Donnie pulled Mikey close, hearing blood rush against his tympanum, fast and erratic. “Off, now.” He hissed under his breath, snuffing out his ninpo with a sharp inhale. Even without light, what Donnie saw was still clear, an echo of the image seared over the darkness that swallowed them.

The walls were crawling with pink flesh, pulsing under a constant tempo. Like breathing. Or a heartbeat. Still alive and a part of the system. The entire room was infected, and despite Leo giving them a secure way in, Donnie came to the realization much too late that they didn’t discuss an exit strategy.

It would be fine. Raph and Leo would handle any fire up top. Donnie just needed to get them to the door.

He promised Raph that he wouldn’t let anything happen to them. He’d fight tooth and nail to ensure his baby brother got out of here. Mikey would see the sun again, as fucked up and broken as it was. The planet still needed its sun, and the resistance needed its own. The future had to remain bright.

Donnie wracked his memory for what little he managed to observe during their few precious seconds of sight. Between the frantic beating of his heart thrumming in his head, he picked over the details. He hadn’t seen any yellow eyes staring down at them. The fact that the flesh was still lying dormant only confirmed they weren’t seen. Leo’s portal dropped them in the common room, near the hallway that led to the bedrooms. That meant the exit was on the opposite side of the bunker, past the dining area and kitchen.

A detailed image of the bunker’s blueprints surfaced in his mind’s eye, letting him chart out the best route of action. He knew every spec of this place. Darkness be damned.

If he weren’t under the oppressive pressure that their situation entailed, Donnie would have jolted away from Mikey at the unprompted touch of his brother’s mind against his own. His eyes darted down to where Mikey stood, barely able to see the outline of his nervous eyes despite their close proximity.

Sorry Dee- I just… you were being really quiet.

Mikey leaned into Donnie, pressing flush against his side. It was apparent now that the box turtle was shaking, which raked icy claws over Donnie’s heart. He hated that this accursed invasion let fear make its home inside his once carefree and confident brother. If feeling it himself was stifling, seeing it in his family was leagues worse.

He could fix this. He would fix this.

He had to fix this.

He took Mikey’s hand, his grip firm and steady.

Don’t worry. I know the way out. Just stick close.

Donnie turned, carefully sweeping the end of his bō over the floor, ensuring that nothing could trip them up during their retreat. He hadn’t seen much of the state of the floor and didn’t want to overlook any potential variable in play.

But what about Todd?

Todd would have run already. He wouldn’t stick around if there was a breach, especially with biomatter. As we shouldn’t.

Mikey didn’t move as Donnie took a step toward escape.

We need to check.

Mikey, every second we spend in here-

Todd would make sure we got out before leaving, and you know it!

Even in the dark, Donnie knew that he was getting manipulative little brother look #3- a confusing combination of puppy dog eyes and determined fire. All tied together with a wobbling bottom lip.

Damn it.

Donnie turned them back toward the bedrooms, counting his paces as they progressed down the hall. He softly tapped his bō against the floor as they walked, using a series of dots and dashes he knew Todd would understand. He was who gave Donnie his ‘Advanced Codebreaking’ Todd Scout badge after all.

A-L-I-V-E-? T-A-P O-N-C-E

Repeat. Repeat. Repeat.

He scowled once they reached the end of the row, having heard nothing from any of the rooms as they passed. He knew that a response was unlikely. But hope was not a creature that fed off statistical probability.

Angelo, I don’t think he’s here.

Mikey’s grip tightened around Donnie’s hand to a near painful degree, desperate to keep a physical hold on the softshell. As if he would lose Donnie next if he didn’t maintain the hold with all his might. Donnie squeezed back as best as he could. A silent ‘I’m here. I’m not going anywhere. I promise.’

Donnie turned them around to retrace their steps, leading Mikey back to the common room.

Leo and Raph are going to get worried. And they get dumb when they are worried. I needn’t remind you of our first encounter with Miss Nubbins, need I?

Aren’t they always a bit dumb though? The tone was teasing and light.

Ah, humor. He’d set the perfect trap to get Mikey out of his head. Raph didn’t have all the big brother tricks in the family.

That’s because they are always worried, my dear Michael. In this case correlation does result in causation.   

He only had to reroute their path a few times as his sweeping bō encountered various obstacles. Their original meeting table, overturned and broken in the middle of the room. Assorted rubble and twisted metal. Broken glass and tools scattered everywhere.

 A buried part of himself was upset they couldn’t salvage any of this. This was simultaneously the best and worst base to lose. As of now, there weren’t any confirmed casualties. Todd’s was the most remote bunker in the resistance, so it normally was just him and the puppies. An outpost in a sense. But it produced resources that they couldn’t just put together overnight in any other location. Even once they got out of immediate danger here, the resistance would have to scale back for a period and adapt to the loss.   

Damn it all.

Those were distant problems. Future Donnie would handle them. Present Donnie just needed to move through one last infested hallway and out the hatch without overthinking it.

The double doors of the mess hall were situated a third of the way down the hall to their left. A new sound almost didn’t register for Donnie as they passed- small snuffling breaths puffed through the doors’ crack. He froze in his tracks as the sniffing grew louder in excitement, paired with a low whine.

Todd wouldn’t leave a dog. Mikey’s voice sounded miserable in Donnie’s head.

Maybe he didn’t. If Todd hadn’t been answering, was he hurt? Unconscious? How did the risk compare to the probability? Donnie turned to face the doors, tapping out his message once more.

No response.

The whining grew louder, and claws scraped down the other side of the metal doors with an elongated screech.

Donnie, what if-

Sigh. Catch the dog and keep it calm. I’ll go inside and see if Lassie is telling us Todd fell down a well.

Donnie let go of Mikey’s hand and carefully pushed the doors open.

It was fascinating, the memories a mind chooses to recall when under life-threatening stress. Instead of thoughts of his family, friends or anything remotely helpful, Donnie was forced to recall a movie that he and his brothers watched by mistake as kids. A case of rental identity theft, tucked incorrectly into Jupiter Jim Surfs the Cowabunga Cosmos.

The 80’s sci-fi flick started ordinary enough. Remote Antarctica researchers saving a dog.

It wasn’t a dog.

That wasn’t a dog.

Donnie shoved himself in front of Mikey, whipping his bō around to crack against the lunging creature’s snapping jaws, sending it flying back into the room. The air grows warm with his brother’s ninpo as gold chains rose to the ready around them. Donnie suppressed the urgent instinct to tap into his own power as the light reflected against a sea of glowing red eyes within the cafeteria, all locked on the two of them.

He couldn’t unleash his full firepower underground, lest they wanted to get buried under several tons of rock. Even semi-lethal could lead to actual-lethal far too easily.

Donnie wished he remembered how many dogs Todd had off the top of his head. Despite still being lovingly known as puppies, the canines reached their full, mature size ages ago. The creatures before them now were larger still. Like the walls, their hulking forms were fleshy and hairless. Sharp spines ran down their backs and glowing green veins pulsed under their skin, adding another element of uncanny that sent paralyzing pulses of panic through Donnie’s skull.

Yellow eyes began to roll open over the walls and ceilings, stirring in reaction to the light and commotion. There goes leaving undetected. But they still needed to leave. Donnie’s hindbrain threatened to faulter, unrelenting base instincts wrapping around his windpipe and restricting airflow. He was prey, smack in the middle of a den of predators.

His beak curled back into a snarl as he put up a ninpo wall to trap the dogs in the cafeteria, shock shedding away now that his internal adrenaline-to-determination pipeline reached equilibrium. A threatening hiss filtered through his teeth, purposefully keeping the dogs more focused on his movements, rather than Mikey’s.

“I’ve got our rear! Push forward and keep the bio growth from reaching us.” Donnie shouted, catching sight of pink tendrils squirming to life and extending toward them.

“Keep bubblegum out of your hair, you got it baby!” Mikey responded, his chains targeting the creeping appendages. The hot metal shredded through them like paper, but that didn’t deter new growths from cropping up. The walls closed in faster and faster, mystic chains whizzing as a blur around them to maintain their buffer.

Donnie fell into a shell-to-shell position behind Mikey, putting complete faith in his brother as he focused solely on the dog creatures. They were in a frenzy, bashing themselves into the barrier with voracious energy. Horrible, gargling barks and howls reverberated off the concrete walls amid the unrelenting smashing. Yet it was the subtle cracking that had him in a cold sweat.

His mind blueprint told him that they only had about 50 yards to the hatch. An average person’s stride was about 2-2.5 feet in length, meaning they had about 20-25 steps to cover in their retreat. In the back of his mind, he mapped out Mikey’s pattern of steps advancing forward and steps taken back, seamlessly following his brother’s rhythm in reverse.

Three forward. Two back. Two forward. One back. Three forward.

Once he was sure that he could put up another barrier without being backed into it, Donnie released the original. Not a moment too soon, as the construct was barely keeping form beneath the spiderweb of cracks overlapping its surface. The dogs surged forward into the new barrier without mercy, a mass of claws and teeth held back by tangible willpower alone.

They could do this. Get to the door, escape, and shut it tight on the monsters within. If they kept this pace and continued working in tandem, they would survive. Especially now that Mikey found his rhythm, pressing forward faster with brutal efficiency. The air surrounding them was shifting from a comforting warmth to a heavy baking heat, the skin of Donnie’s shell growing slick with sweat beneath its armor.

Four steps forward. Two back. Three forward. Pause to maintain position. Four forward. Two back. Three forward.

Donnie created his next barrier, grimacing as it bisected a tendril that shot forward from behind the dogs as the second construct broke. He kicked the writhing piece away, once again longing for a pair of boots as green blood coated his foot.

“A little more, then we have to start going up Donnie.” Mikey relayed, his breath coming out in staccato gasps.

“10-4. You continue up first. Get the hatch open, I’ll be right behind. Be prepared to shut it the second I’m out.” Donnie responded, nodding to himself. He blinked rapidly to keep sweat from obscuring his vision, trying to ignore how the concrete tunnels were reminiscent of an oven by this point. Michael’s power also wasn’t built for longer-term use in confined spaces. Even some of the reaching biomatter was starting to shrivel and dry out if it extended too close. “Just let me know if you see any growth on the ladder or the way up.”

Two steps. One back. Three forward. One back. Two forward. One back. Three forward.

“The hatch looks clear. Only a little goop on the ladder.”

“Great. Head up.” Donnie grit out as his latest construct shattered, putting up another closer to himself than before. They were running out of hallway. The structure rattled with constant blows only a step and a half away, yet Donnie held his ground maintaining eye contact with one of the dogs. Defiant, despite being stuck between a mauling force and solid concrete.

“But if I go, how will-”

“Don’t worry about it. I can handle myself Mica-lo. Less talky, more climby.” Donnie retorted, nudging Mikey with his bō to signal that he really needed to get a move on. He’d rather have a bit more space between him and the dogs before he had to create another wall.

The bio growth shifted its focus toward Donnie once Mikey climbed out of range, tendrils shooting at him from all directions. His body fell deeper into practiced reflex as he whirled his bō around his body, using its range to keep the flesh at bay.

All the while he kept his eyes trained on his construct, only looking away if he could sense a growth attacking from behind. Donnie knew he was moving faster than he could maintain for too long under the unrelenting assault. But it shouldn’t take Mikey more than 15 seconds to scale to the top of the ladder. He’d open the door and Donnie could move out of the growth’s range and make another construct. He couldn’t let up until then, per the first of Newton’s Laws of Motion. An object in motion stayed in motion. An object at rest stays at rest.

The dogs and biomatter were an external force that he wouldn’t allow to change his velocity. A velocity toward victory. Toward securing his family’s safety. Toward a new world they would build together.

“Donnie! I’m at the hatch!”

Oh, sweet relief.

“Haha! Thank Rosalind Franklin! Open-”

“-It won’t open!”

Donnie almost fumbled his next dodge and was forced to overcorrect as a tendril shot over his shoulder, just missing his neck by inches. His mouth went painfully dry as Mikey’s words echoed down to him.

“What do you mean it won’t open?”

“IT. WON’T. OPEN!”

Donnie’s projection shattered. They were out of time.

Without thought, he sprung vertically into the exit tunnel, forming a hasty platform beneath his feet about 7 feet in the air. It jostled beneath him violently as the pack of dogs continued after him, launching their bodies up and into the construct. He stared down wide-eyed as jaws snapped at his feet, trying to tear at him through the mystic structure.

“Donnie? Are you okay?” Mikey called, voice trembling.

“Nothing’s touched me! I’m fine! I’m coming!” Donnie yelled back, quick to scale the ladder. He ignored the slight tremor in his legs and pointedly set his gaze upward, not wanting to chance a look below. Once he was at the top, Mikey moved to the side so that Donnie could settle beside him. “What’s the problem?”

Donnie reached toward the hatch, pulling his hand away with a strangled hiss moments after touching the searing metal.

“The fire outside-”

“Yeah. Got it.” Donnie rasped, swallowing down the dread that settled in the back of his throat. “Did you try using your chains to open it?”

Mikey’s head bobbed in steady affirmation. The emergency beacon holding his cloak closed was active. It flashed on and off, giving Donnie a glimpse of Mikey’s flushed, tired expression hidden behind a warbled smile. "It's stuck pretty good."

“Ah, hell.” Donnie clicked, letting go of the ladder with one hand to give Mikey’s shoulder a squeeze. He was proud that the youngest was staying grounded this well. The vast amount of trust that Mikey had in him filled Donnie’s chest with a swirling concoction of anxiety and flattery. He had to reinforce that Mikey’s trust wasn’t misguided.

A shattering sound made Donnie steal a look down the hatch tunnel, watching the dogs try to jump past the newly broken shield. It helped that the ripple of bodies were all trying to press into the smaller opening with reckless abandon at once, no one dog having a chance to break from the pack. Donnie made another construct halfway down the tunnel regardless, not wanting to take any risks.

Donnie’s tech gauntlet chimed as Leo’s name and contact image popped onto screen. They must have gotten close enough to the surface for the signal to be active- perfect! After they got back to homebase, Donnie would have to update the communicators to be accessible on every frequency possible. Science forbid this happen again, but just in case.

Mikey answered before Donnie could, yanking the screen toward his face. “LEO! The door is stuck and the puppies are going to eat us!”

“Er- excuse me?” Leo’s soot smeared face personified confusion, eye ridges quirking up as his eyes squinted in thought. “I thought you guys were ninjaing in and out!”

“The bunker was compromised. We are at the hatch, but it won’t open. The margins are too thin for a portal, so get Raph. Tell him-”

“It’s clobberin’ time? Oh! Wait- I have something better. It’s slobberin’ time? Eh? Eh?” Leo interrupted as Donnie watched him fall in and out of a portal and onto Raph’s shoulders.

“Damn it, Leo.” Donnie groaned, using his free forearm to wipe his face.

“Hey, don’t you mean doggonit? Let’s be family friendly here.”

“Are none of you bozos going to let Raph in on what’s going on?”

“We have to keep Mikey and Donnie from becoming puppy chow!”

The image jostled as Donnie heard a muffled ‘hey!’ from Leo. Raph’s face appeared on screen. His mask tails were singed, and he was clearly covered head to toe in dirt.

“Get to the hatch posthaste. When you arrive, get ready to smash.” Donnie explained before the snapper could speak, keeping his eyes down toward the dogs. So far none had managed to lunge very high up the tunnel. His latest barrier had yet to be touched. Good. It would hold. They were safe from both beast and bio-

Screaming.

Someone was screaming. Everything else muted in the hazy background. Faraway voices registered against his tympanum. Worried, hurried voices lost in scattered static. His vision blurred and warped, smears of grey, green, and orange swirling around in a way that left him dizzy. Purple sparks periodically burst in his peripherals, smelling of fireworks and burnt rubber.

Even Donnie’s connection with his body felt distant. He tried to release his hold on the ladder rung, but his quaking fingers refused to budge. Nothing would move. Nothing could move other than his racing heartbeat pounding beat-for-beat inside his head. Everything was awash with a prickling discomfort, a sensation that was as sharp as it was numb. A hurt that couldn’t be comprehended yet by the psyche.

Oh. He was in shock.

What was hurting? Why was he screaming? Was Mikey okay?

It took seeing a blurry arm reaching for his shoulders for awareness to snap back into his shock-addled brain.

“D-d-D-oNt ToUcCcH mee!” He wheezed past clacking teeth. His bleary eyes followed the sound of sparks, cursing internally at the sight of a smoking tendril half-buried inside a slash through his battleshell. The damage cut clean through, exposing damaged wires and machinery to his scales and shell.

So, it hadn’t been going for his neck. At least the crafty bastard was frying alongside him. Though Donnie had never intended to experience the 250K volt shock of his anti-assimilation tech in all its glory. All thirty seconds of it.

It was an eternity before Donnie’s body finally went lax. There was no relief as his hands slipped away from the ladder rung, free of electric currents locking his white-knuckle grip in place. He needed to… what did he need… Darkness closed around the edges of his vision as he fell backwards and into a freefall.

Donnie heard Mikey shout in alarm, his eyes rolling around sluggishly in an attempt to locate his brother. Mikey was up. What way was up?

Gold chains wrapped firmly around his torso, pulling a pained grunt from his lungs as his descent was jolted to a halt. He could still feel his fingers and toes twitching on and off, but feeling was slowly returning to him- white hot painful feeling. He needed… something. Something was…

He blinked and Mikey was next to him, eyes wide with frazzled worry. Either Donnie was losing time, or his brother had moved portal fast on his climb down.

“Donnie! Are you with us? What hap-”

He blinked and his hand was wrapped around Mikey’s arm, desperately keeping his brother from being pulled down the tunnel and into the bloodthirsty horde below. The box turtle’s wailing reverbed around him, prompting Donnie’s eyes to flash with furious purple energy. He locked eyes with the hound that had managed its way this high. It hung from Mikey’s leg by its locked jaws, refusing to release its catch.

He blinked and his bō was aimed at the hanging dog with a ninpo laser attachment at its tip. He didn’t hesitate to release a shot of energy, hitting the beast square between its uncaring eyes. It fell to the ground with a lifeless thud, absorbing back into the rippling crowd like a drop of water.

He blinked and Donnie was holding a crying Mikey in his arms, fighting off any residual shaking to keep a tight hold on the box turtle. A new construct was below them, purple splattered with scarlet paint. It had to be paint, right? No way the dripping liquid could be anything else.

“-nie! Please answer!” His wrist was talking. Right. The electricity at least didn’t short out his gauntlet.

“h’ fr’ r’ u’?” Donnie warbled, his snout scrunching in displeasure at how difficult it was to control his tongue.

“Not far. Donnie, what happened! Stay talking, okay?”

Donnie forced his eyes to stay open, to keep from blinking. If Leo and Raph weren’t already at the hatch, he wasn’t sure he would be able to keep this stable long enough for their arrival. He was worried about blinking and losing more time. About losing his grip again and dropping the rest of the way down. He couldn’t trust his limbs to climb back to the top. Mikey wouldn’t be climbing either. Not with his leg. Oh Mikey.

He needed a plan but it just felt like his head was going to-

Explode. Oh, sugar honey iced tea.

He had to get his battleshell off.

He’d designed the self-destruct on all resistance tech to set off after a few minutes of delay. A feature meant to give any non-stunned poor son of a bitch close by a chance to run away. A few taps on his gauntlet cleared any uncertainty.

20 seconds.

“Leo. D’nt get any cl’ser.” Donnie breathed, running figures in the back of his mind. The countdown was sobering, forcing Donnie to snap completely back into the situation at hand.

19 seconds.

“No way dude, we can see the hatch now! Just hold-”

18 seconds.

“LEO!” Donnie yelled, the single syllable grating against his scream-sore throat. “Trust me!”

17 seconds.

The line was silent for a beat.

16 seconds.

“Okay.” 

15 seconds.

Newton’s second and third laws of motion. Explosions exerted energy, which could act as a force. Increased force on mass resulted in increased acceleration. It would be met with an equal force in the opposite direction.

14 seconds.

A force exerting upward.

13 seconds.

Up and out.

12 seconds.

“Mikey. G’nna hurt… but get in y’ur shell.”

11 seconds.

“N-no… Dee… not gonna-”

10 seconds.

“It’s fine! Just s’me extreme br’therball, ‘kay? Please Mikey!”

9 seconds.

Mikey’s forehead pressed against Donnie’s for a moment before retreating away with a ‘pop’.

8 seconds.

Donnie curled as best as he could around the shell pressed into his chest while still holding the ladder. He pushed away any despair at the sight of blood still leaking from within. Mikey was safer in his shell. This was fine.

7 seconds.

They’d be fine.

6 seconds.

Mikey would be fine.

5 seconds.

“Raph, Leo. In case we l’se c’nnecti’n, watch the skies.”

4 seconds.

Donnie deconstructed the platform below.

3 seconds.

He pressed the release on his battleshell, struggling with clumsy and uncoordinated motor skills. Hearing the clasps hiss open, he shrugged the armor from his shoulders.

2 seconds.

Several glowing purple packages of plastic explosives attached to his shell as it fell down into the hall, which was still awash with accumulated mystic energy leftover from Mikey’s defense. Highly reactive energy. Like natural gas. It would only take another mystic spark…

1 second.

Please work.

Donnie formed a ninpo sphere as thick as he could manage around himself and his prize, closing his eyes tight. His body plastered to the bottom of his construct as the force of the blast propelled the bubble upward, popping the hatch door like a champagne cork. Heavy breaths panted through his teeth and he curled tighter around Mikey, tears springing to his eyes while he rattled around inside the capsule. 

He didn't care how his bare shell burned or how his head grew fuzzier upon ricocheting off the protective walls. 

He didn't care when the purple dissolved around him at the peak of their ascent into the sky. The sanctuary looked so tiny. Like a playset. 

He'd stay wrapped around Mikey. The last line of protection. 

It was really peaceful up here. The few moments of weightlessness they'd achieved was nice. 

And the sun! It was... so beautiful.

It was too bad he really... really needed to close his eyes.