Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The cold came first. It was all-encompassing, crawling over his shell and sinking its teeth into his bones. Leo was paralyzed in its merciless grip, wanting desperately to curl in on himself for warmth, but barely able to summon a pathetic wheeze.

The pitiful sound was snatched from the air the instant it left his body, smothering him in silence. He felt his breath fog up in the cold air, but couldn't see the resulting cloud. It was dark, Leo registered—impossibly so.

As he struggled towards awareness, he realized his body felt strange, unnatural in some way he couldn't pinpoint. He fought to gain his bearings in the freezing void, but it was as if a fog had settled over his mind.

He was exhausted. Tired in a way he didn't know was possible.

Leo floated through the fog for what seemed like an eternity. Too weak to fight. Too drained to even think.

The void spoke to him as he floated. It assured him that he was safe, that he just needed to sleep. Let go, it soothed. The pain will go away if you just let go.

It was so tempting to listen, to simply sink into the darkness and rest. He almost did. But then, a different voice—a beautiful and gentle voice—began to whisper in his heart.

It was faint at first, struggling to break through the unnatural silence. But a part of Leo, the part that would always hear his family, listened intently. What little remaining spark in him drifted towards the sound, drawn closer like a moth to a flame.

As he drifted closer, the whisper became louder, circling his heart and gently guiding him away from the dark, from the sinister trap that assured him it was a sanctuary.

The words slowly gained strength, and with a final push, the voice spoke clearly within him: "Anata wa hitori wa janai"—both a whisper and a thunderclap, so quiet yet so powerful that it instantly snapped Leo back to awareness.

He had just enough time to glance around in confusion before the tether around his heart jerked and he tumbled out of the void. The darkness was gone in a flash, and Leo flailed as he fell through the sudden blinding light. Then, as soon as it started, it was over.

He hit the ground with a thud and could only stare in bewilderment at the shockingly clear blue sky above him. The beautiful sea of grass he was sprawled in towered above him, shifting gently in the wind.

It was perfect. Nothing hurt, nothing could harm him, and he could hear the voice calling to him from the distance. A voice that brought conflicting feelings of comfort and grief—Karai.

Leo barked out a sharp laugh as the pieces clicked into place. Oh, he thought hysterically, I'm dead.

Everything in Leo prayed for a moment to rest in the peace of this new place. But something within him, something punishing and vile, told him that he did not deserve rest. It sneered at him viciously as it pried open the gates, allowing the memories to rush in.

The grass above him smeared as his vision unfocused and his body began to tremble. Fear and shame welled up in his chest, clawing out in frantic, ragged breaths. He remembered everything.

The key. The Krang. The portal.

What had he done? Oh god, look at what he had done. You stupid, worthless pest.

Tears flowed down his cheeks as he sobbed brokenly, wrapping his arms around himself in panic and pain, unable to move from the ground.

His family, his home, New York—all gone because of him.

Leo ignored Karai's calls, barely noticing her voice pitching up in concern as she searched for him. Instead, he tore through the fear and pain of his last moments, frantically searching for a final glimpse of his brothers, trying to reassure himself that they were safe. That he hadn't killed them with his arrogance.

It felt as if his very soul was being torn apart, his ninpo beginning to spark along his arms as he ripped himself from the last remnants of the fog. His head pounded as he remembered the portal—a beautiful orange glow, his sunshine reaching out for him, his brothers reaching for him, and then…

They're safe, he remembered with a relieved gasp. I didn't kill them.

His last memory came into focus. The smell of the harbor, the slight breeze, and the feeling of his brothers holding him.

He was clutched to Raph's chest as if they were children again. The memory was startlingly vivid, he noted. Leo could almost feel Raph's heart racing beneath him, and his nose wrinkled as he caught the stench of his brother's fear. But despite everything, he felt safe.

Whether it was finding shelter in Raph's arms during thunderstorms when they were kids, or fighting goddamned aliens, he would always be safe in Raph's arms.

Memory-Raph seemed to agree with Leo, looking down at him with love and desperation. "It's gonna be ok, Lee-Lee. Raph's got ya. Just keep looking at me and it's all gonna be ok." His voice cracked at the end of the sentence. Leo wasn't sure which of them Raph was trying to reassure.

Feeling as though he was controlling someone else's body, everything a little bit to the left, Leo lifted a trembling hand and caught Raph's in his own. He concentrated, shaking like a leaf and furrowing his brow in effort, but he eventually coordinated his hand enough to squeeze Raph's twice in quick succession.

It was an old signal, from back when they had all shared a room as tots. Their room had been pitch black, and Raph had been terrified that he would wake up one day and his brothers would be gone.

Even if they were lying next to him, his mind would race with fear—what if they were sick, what if they weren't actually there, what if they were dead.

After one too many instances of being shaken awake in a panic, they came up with a solution. If Raph squeezed their hands twice, they would squeeze back. They would let him know that they were still there.

The problem was solved when Donnie figured out how to make a nightlight, but once the signal was established, they never stopped using it. It became normal for them to give two quick taps to the shell, squeeze a hug twice, and double-knock on the door. Anything to let their brothers know that they were safe, they were here, they were loved.

Raph responded to the signal with a horrifically pained sound, clutching Leo tighter, trying to find his little brother in the dark.

Leo could almost feel his body jolt from the pain, a whine tearing from his throat and joining Raph's. But no, he thought to himself, this is only a memory—it's over. No more pain. I know I deserve it, but please no more pain.

"Stop it, Raph!" A new set of hands entered Leo's vision and moved to loosen Raph's hold.

Leo couldn't move. Everything felt distant, like he was watching a movie. The camera was fixed in place and all he could do was stare as Donnie's hands worked to loosen Raph's grasp.

Raph released Leo instantly, sobbing and apologizing, still cradling him gently against his chest. "Raph's so sorry, Leo. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to hurt ya. I just keep hurting you," he wailed, rocking back and forth and mumbling nonsensical apologies.

Leo forgave Raph instantly—his brother would never hurt him intentionally. The rocking was nice though; it made him feel young and safe. So nice that Leo felt his head list to the side and his eyes begin to slip closed.

The fog was creeping in again, Karai's voice getting clearer. Her voice was also louder, he noted—she was getting closer to finding him.

But, even in a memory, Leo didn't want to leave without comforting Raph.

He was gathering the strength to squeeze Raph's hand again when a different pair of hands descended. Leo melted with a soft chirp as calloused hands cradled his cheeks—Donnie.

Leo would know those hands anywhere. From the scar across his palm gained during the blender incident when they were ten, to the blister on his finger from the coffee machine yesterday.

As the family medic, Leo worked to keep all his brothers safe, but Donnie's dangerous experiments certainly made him his most frequent patient.

A rush of love flooded Leo's chest at Donnie's touch, and he hummed in acknowledgement of his twin's presence. But it couldn't last for long. The warm feelings of love and safety were immediately replaced with annoyance as Donnie began to tap rapidly at his face.

His snout scrunched and he groaned in irritation, feebly trying to turn his face away from Donnie's incessant tapping.

"Stop, Nardo!" Donnie reprimanded. "You of all people should know that falling asleep when gravely injured is a dumb idea!"

Leo pried his eyes open to glare at Donnie. Of course he knew that injured patients needed to stay awake—he was the medic after all. He tried to convey his disdain for Donnie's reprimand through his expression, but instead of receiving the usual joking smirk in return, Donnie met his gaze with fervent relief.

Weird… Leo thought. Why would Donnie be so scared? This is just a memory. Nothing can hurt us anymore.

Leo's attention drifted to Donnie's shaking hands, fluttering against his cheeks as if unsure whether to let go or hold tight. His heart twisted in pain. He had never seen Donnie so terrified before.

Leo felt his ninpo begin to stir in response to his twin's pain, a flickering blue glow casting Donnie and Raph's faces into an eerie light.

His ninpo unfurled slowly, humming songs of love and comfort as it latched onto Donnie and Raph. But there was an absence, a void. The song jolted in alarm. Where was Mikey? Where was their sunshine?

Leo distantly registered Raph and Donnie shouting at him, but the panicked screech of his ninpo drowned them out.

"Nardo, stop this right now! You're too weak to be pulling dumb-dumb stunts! Just stop—please stop!" Donnie pleaded.

"It's ok, Lee! We're all ok! Mikey's just sleeping!" Raph tried to reassure him, fighting Donnie's hands off to tilt Leo's head back and make eye contact.

But Leo couldn't hear them. He wouldn't hear them until his light was safely in his arms. His ninpo, which had previously been floating around them calmly, suddenly folded into itself before bursting outward in a frantic search.

Leo couldn't see it, but it felt like a sonar ping. He'd learned about them once from a documentary Donnie showed him when they were arguing about what counted as cheating in Battleship.

Leo's ninpo registered the rest of the clan's presence during its race across the city. Dad and April were miles away, but they were together and their ninpo was strong. Future Boy was at the tower, a spark of new ninpo, small but strong. But still no Mikey.

And then, a flicker.

I found your battleship, he thought in hysterical relief.

Mikey's ninpo was weak, a tired, fluttering thing, but it was still here. Leo's ninpo circled Mikey in alarm as he realized that his brother had been right next to him the entire time. His usually larger-than-life brother was terrifyingly small.

Mikey's ninpo stirred weakly at Leo's call, reaching back towards him. Leo chirped in distress, followed by a hacking wet cough. He felt hands patting his shell, but he ignored the taste of iron in his mouth and continued to focus on Mikey.

Why weren't Donnie and Raph doing anything?!

Leo began to move, summoning all of his strength to get to his baby brother. He only had a moment to register Raph and Donnie's escalating panic before he heard it—her voice.

"There you are, my child," Karai gasped in relief.

Leo jerked from his place on the ground. The world spun as he tried to orient himself. It felt as if his soul was being pulled apart.

Where was he? On the island? In the void? In the field?

Karai's relief turned to horror as she took in his state. His entire body was glowing, arcs of blue ninpo sparking and cracking, tearing him apart. He was gasping and writhing in pain, but he ignored it all, continuing to try and crawl to his baby brother.

Karai fell to her knees at his side, grabbing him and clutching him to her chest—a mirror of Raph. "My child, please, I know you are in pain. I know you want to be with your brothers, but you have passed. You cannot stay with them any longer," she said in a frantic rush.

He continued to fight, but she held him firmly and began rocking him in sync with Raph, trying to rein in his wild ninpo. A whirlwind was forming, pulling at her hair and clawing at her clothes, but she refused to let go.

She leaned down to press a gentle kiss to Leo's forehead, whispering a plea into his ear. "You are ripping your soul apart trying to stay with them. Please, Leo, you must rest."

Leo couldn't hear her pleas, nor could he hear Donnie and Raph's. He was consumed by the screaming whirlwind of his ninpo.

They're hurt, his ninpo sobbed. My family is hurting and I have to make it stop! I have to make it better!

But how? Leo thought in despair. He could barely move, he was apparently dead or dying, and he feared Mikey was coming with him. His body trembled as his ninpo burned in his chest. His ribs felt like the kindling of a bonfire.

"I just want to go back," Leo wailed. He writhed in Raph and Karai's twin grips as he sobbed and screamed. "I want to take it all back! I want to go home!"

Home? his ninpo asked quietly.

"Home," Leo sobbed, reaching towards his core. He grabbed frantically at memories of childhood safety and home, holding them up in offering to the will of his ninpo.

Maybe if he could get his ninpo to understand what his family was like when it was happy and whole, then maybe it could help him fix things.

Leo's body began to burn brighter, his screams and sobs reaching a fever pitch as his family on both sides of the void clung to him. And then, his ninpo began to move.

The Hamatos watched in horror as glowing blue tendrils circled around each other, rotating rings coalescing, compacting, until above them all sat a deceptively beautiful orb of ninpo.

Leo fell limp, staring listlessly up at his soul. And as he took his last, shuddering breath, his ninpo exploded.

Chapter Text

Every being in the universe conceptualizes time differently. It's a vast and unknown subject after all; it cannot be contained in a simple box. No, time is not a singular being. It is a multiplicity based on experiences—made of shared memory and life.

For some, time is a river. For others, a forest. But for the Hamatos, time is a film reel.

It's sitting around the projector watching movies—watching each other grow. Every moment adds another frame to the spool, and the projector keeps turning, momentum building with each rotation. The reel wants nothing but to keep spinning forward.

So to do what Michelangelo did with a hopeful smile and a wink, to reverse it? That takes tremendous force.

You're not just stopping the projector. You're fighting against the accumulated weight of every frame that's already been shot. And if you manage to stop it, to actually reverse the feed and pull the film backward through the gate, then comes the real work. You have to erase what's already been captured. Frame by frame, image by image, unmaking what was made, giving time a chance to record something different.

Yes, what Michelangelo did was truly a miracle—a once-in-a-timeline event.

Leo, well, he wasn't a miracle maker. 

His fading ninpo was practically a flickering candle compared to the supernova Michelangelo created to roll back the film, but he had always been the most resourceful one of the family. Sure, he couldn't roll back the tape entirely, but thanks to Mikey the tape had already lost momentum. It was still rolling back, and Leo could take advantage of that. 

Sending back a person would be too much, but a piece of a person—now that was doable.

That's the difference between erasing the film and just... overprinting it. You're not stopping the projector, not reversing the massive momentum of the reel. You're letting it keep spinning forward, exactly as it wants to. Instead, you're projecting a second image onto frames that have already been exposed. A double exposure. A ghost laid over the original. 

The film still shows what it showed before, but now there's something else there too; a knowledge that doesn't belong, a shadow of events that haven't happened yet. The person living in that frame suddenly remembers a future they haven't experienced, sees paths they haven't walked.

It takes a fraction of the energy. You're not fighting time's momentum, not trying to unmake what's already been made. You're just... whispering into a frame that's already passed through the gate. Slipping information backward like a note tucked between the celluloid and the sprockets.

As Leo watched his soul glow above him, he thought of movie nights. He thought of laughter, love, and hope. It was a melancholy moment. Yes, his time as the star of this film was coming to an end. But that was ok.

 All he could do was pray that the note he left his past self would be put to good use.

The New York City skyline was especially beautiful that night. It glowed and hummed with life—with the feeling of home. And if someone were to look at the skyline closely, if someone took the time to sift through the drifting lights of 8 million lives, they might have seen one that was a little more…active.

A flash of brilliant blue wove through the streets of New York. It moved as if it was on a mission, dancing between cars and leaping across rooftops. The energy had a purpose, but it was fading quickly. It couldn't survive on its own.

It had to find home.

Home, the energy reminded itself during its search. Memories of family, double taps, and love acting as kindling for its fading flame. The image of home became clearer—it was dark, and cozy, and underground! Home was underground!

The energy dove through a grate at the realization, swirling in excitement at its discovery. It knew it had lost pieces of itself since leaving the other one, but it could at least remember this much. It could remember enough to find home.

The energy raced down the tunnels, scattering leaves, rats, and water in its wake. A flash of orange prompted the energy to pause and investigate, leaning in close to see—an M!

The energy cheered in joy at the sight of the messy orange M spray-painted on the wall. It couldn't remember the name attached to the symbol anymore, but it knew who painted it. Its sunshine had been here.

"Remember, Mikey," the red one's voice echoed in its ears, "if you ever get lost, look for the M, it'll lead ya home."

Home! The energy sang, moving towards the next orange mark in the distance. It sprinted from one mark to the next, and it didn't take long for the energy to begin to hear sounds. It sounded like…arguing? The energy increased its pace, suddenly scared. Was its family fighting? In trouble? It didn't have time to waste.

The energy burst into the lair, nearly knocking down a precarious stack of comics piled next to the atrium couch. Splinter's whiskers twitched at the sensation of the wind, but he continued to snore in his recliner, used to sleeping through the chaos of the Hamato home. In fact, he could almost be lauded for his ability to sleep through anything, as he was currently sleeping through a very loud argument.

Four figures were huddled on the other side of the atrium, attempting to argue quietly but failing miserably.

"Raph's not gonna ask again!" the biggest one shouted, crossing his arms in irritation and glaring down at the three smaller figures.

The energy drifted closer to investigate, reassured that its family was not in danger. It cooed at the figures and resisted the urge to twirl around them and say hello. It didn't remember why, but it had a feeling it was supposed to stay secret.

Instead, it hovered above the figures, observing them closely. The one shouting was a small turtle wearing a red bandanna, a scuffed football helmet, and a large jersey.

Raph! That's Raph! The energy crowed in triumph.

It turned its attention to the next figure, who was glaring defiantly, positioned in front of Raph as if facing off against an opponent in the ring. Sharpie eyebrows furrowed in anger, and a small green finger lifted to adjust his glasses before speaking. "Raphael, I know you are the oldest, and for some reason that has given you a complex of some sort, but you cannot continue to think that we will abide by this bedtime nonsense anymore!" he lectured.

Donnie! The energy rejoiced, resisting the urge to ruffle his little purple bandanna or pull his hoodie over his head. It used to love to steal that purple hoodie.

"We are ten now, Raph," Donnie continued, "and per Papa's decree, we are now old enough to stay up an hour later." He held up one finger for emphasis.

"Yeah!" a smaller voice chimed in. A little pudgy hand clutching an orange crayon rose in the air to join the rebellion.

Mikey! The energy cheered, leaning in close to examine the sea of art scattered around the tiny turtle. Its youngest brother was sprawled on the floor at Raph's feet, tongue poking out in concentration as he colored, but still paying enough attention to his brothers to participate in a good ol' mutiny.

Raph sputtered at the betrayal. "You're not turning ten for another week!" he protested. "Just because Dad got the date wrong doesn't mean you get to stay up late!" He stomped his foot and looked down at Mikey. "And you're a year younger than the twins, Mikey," he said with a warning glare. "Don't think I forgot that your bedtime is in 10 minutes."

Mikey chuckled nervously and looked away, pretending to be absorbed in his artwork.

"Anyways!" a bright voice interrupted, swooping in to save their littlest from the impending doom of bedtime. "Who can really prove when our mutation date is, you know! I think the best course of action is to trust in our beloved parent and get on with our nights."

The energy jolted at the voice, whirling around in shock to see a little turtle in a blue bandanna wearing a sly grin. Oh, the energy thought in shock, then perked up in joy. Home! It had found its home!

The energy ignored its brothers, now fully focused on its purpose. It wove carefully through the argument, dodging flailing arms and stomping feet as it silently advanced towards its home. It had to go unnoticed until the last possible second—it didn't want to scare the little guy after all.

Finally, it hovered in front of its home and paused, waiting to see if it would be recognized. The blue banded turtle seemed unaware of its presence, continuing to watch his brothers argue with an amused twinkle in his eyes. The energy was not concerned though. Even if its home didn't see it, they could still connect. It was sure of it.

The energy reached out with a quiet hum, twirling itself around its home's core. Its home jolted, making an uncertain sound, but seeming unsure of where his distress was coming from. The energy hummed in sympathy. It knew this wouldn't be pleasant, but it was necessary. They had to keep their family safe.

Its home was shaking now, eyes darting around frantically as he realized he couldn't move anymore. "It's okay, little one," the energy whispered in reassurance. "We're going to make it better. We're going to keep our family safe."

Its home could only utter a small whimper before the energy—the bundle of memories, ninpo, and determination—dove in, merging completely with the small soul.

And then—the collapse.

Raph was getting real tired of this little sibling nonsense. He sighed in irritation and put a hand on his face to block out Donnie's continued tirade. He was only two years older than the twins, but you would think it was a decade given how they acted.

He was only twelve, for Lou Jitsu's sake! He should be reading comics or watching Jupiter Jim—not trying to win a case in bedtime court! Raph groaned and began to massage his forehead, knowing that Leo was waiting to swoop in and deal the final blow. That kid would be an amazing lawyer, he thought in despair.

Raph paused, tilting his head and listening intently. He was ignoring Donnie, of course, but why wasn't Leo talking anymore? A jolt of fear shot through him. Was he plotting something?

Raph yanked his hand away, eyes darting around in sudden panic. Stupid, he thought to himself. Never lose sight of the twins!

His search only lasted a few seconds before his eyes landed on Leo, and he realized his panic was for nothing. Leo stood a few steps behind Donnie, and he apparently hadn't moved since Raph covered his eyes. The same couldn't be said for Donnie, who was currently jumping up and down and shouting in indignation at Raph's lack of attention.

Raph let out a sigh of relief and braced himself to continue his fight with Donnie when—wait, why was Leo so still?

Leo and Donnie were almost always a united front, but due to their clashing personalities, they took turns when presenting a case against Raph. Early on, they tried the tag-team approach, but after one too many incidents of infighting, they decided that the best strategy was for one of them to take the stage and the other to wait in the wings.

On the surface, there was nothing unusual. Leo was standing where he always would, slightly behind Donnie's left shoulder, ready to pounce once he found an opening. But even if he wasn't on stage, Leo was always talking—throwing barbs at both sides of the argument, riling everyone up for fun.

You know, Leo stuff.

This isn't right, Raph thought as he stared at Leo's unnaturally still posture. A part of his mind hysterically noted that Leo could be mistaken for a mannequin.

Maybe it's a joke of some kind? he reasoned frantically.

But no, Leo didn't do still. The kid could hardly calm his body down long enough to sleep, let alone pull off a prank like this. An alarm began to sound in Raph's head, and his heart started to pound to its beat.

Something's wrong, he thought in terror. Something's really wrong.

The blaring siren of panic propelled him forward, and he distractedly ignored Donnie's squawks of protest as he brushed past. He walked quickly but calmly to make sure he didn't scare his little brothers. He couldn't let them know that he was scared too.

"Leo?" Raph asked hesitantly, holding his arms out as he approached. He wasn't sure if he was trying to capture or catch his younger brother, but either way, he needed to be prepared.

Leo didn't respond to his call. And as Raph took a few steps closer, his mind began to anxiously catalog all the things that were wrong with his little Leo.

He was stiff in a way Raph had never seen, standing in a painfully straight pose, limbs shaking slightly with tension. His breaths were coming out in tiny pants, like he couldn't take a full breath. And his eyes—oh god, his eyes.

Raph felt an overwhelmed whine slip out of his throat as he tried to make eye contact with his baby brother and was instead met with the bloodshot whites of his sclera.

"Leo?" Raph warbled out uncertainly, hands hovering above the slider's shoulders. Everything in him screamed to grab Leo and shield him from whatever this was, but he was terrified of making things worse.

Out of the corner of his eye, Raph saw Donnie—who had been staring sulkily at the ground—whip around at the terror in Raph's voice.

Donnie's breath began to stutter in his chest and his hands began to shake as he took in the scene. It was as if his body was trying to mimic Leo's in some distant way. They were twins, after all—they were always connected.

Raph prayed Donnie wouldn't go down due to the terror of the situation.

Raph's eyes flickered back and forth frantically, trying to keep both twins in sight. He saw Donnie's eyes widen in realization, and the softshell jerked forward with a yell. "Raph! He's having a seizure! Catch him!"

Raph scrambled forward at Donnie's shout, arms closing around Leo mere seconds before the slider's knees gave out.

They tumbled to the ground, Raph twisting himself around Leo to take the brunt of the impact. His red helmet hit the ground with a resounding thud, and Raph lay stunned for a moment. After a beat of disorientation, Raph pulled himself together through sheer force of will and lifted himself up to cradle Leo in his arms.

Leo was still eerily still in Raph's arms and had barely even twitched since his collapse. Raph could feel the heat radiating from the slider's body—it felt like Leo's skin was on fire. It was terrifying.

Raph let out a stuttering churr, trying to rouse his baby brother in the only way he knew how. Leo's eyebrows furrowed in pain, and he responded with a strained chirp—showing just enough awareness to give Raph hope.

Rapid footsteps approached their spot on the floor, causing Raph to curl around Leo protectively, instinctively trying to hide his little star from danger. Donnie and Mikey crowded in, paying their bristling older brother no mind. The large spikes and low growl may have intimidated anyone else, but not them.

Raph opened his arms begrudgingly, using his left to grab Mikey in a comforting hug and his right to support Leo's head as Donnie dove in for an examination. Raph cleared his throat, finding it difficult to speak around the rumbling in his chest. "W-what was that, Donnie?" he asked in a stutter, his eyes fixed on Leo's face, still searching for any sign of awareness.

Donnie's hands fluttered against Leo's throat, trying to take his twin's pulse but failing due to the tremors in his hands. He let out a grunt of frustration and withdrew his hands to shake them out in a sharp, agitated stim.

"I believe that was a seizure," he responded. "A temporary episode of abnormal electrical activity in the brain that can cause a variety of symptoms, including involuntary movements, loss of consciousness, and confusion." He recited the information in a contained monotone as he continued to flex his hands.

Raph stared at Donnie in confusion, obviously unsure what to do with that information. Donnie ignored him and took a deep breath, placing his now-steady hand against Leo's throat. Raph paused at Donnie's action, suddenly realizing they were horrifically out of their depth—they needed an adult.

Mikey seemed to share his sentiment as his sobs began to gain volume. The littlest turtle ducked out of Raph's arm and ran toward the armchair in the middle of the room with all his might. "Daddy! Something's wrong with Leo. We need help!" he wailed.

Splinter jerked awake at Mikey's cry, going from asleep to crouching on top of the chair in less than a second. Splinter began scanning the room frantically until he zeroed in on Raph and Leo. Raph watched Splinter's face hopefully, certain his parent would know how to help. Sure, Splinter slept a lot. Sure, he wasn't around a lot. But he was there when it counted, right?

Raph's stomach dropped when he saw Splinter's face—he looked scared too.

Tears welled up in Raph's eyes as he leaned down to press his forehead gently against Leo's. He wasn't sure if Dad could help, but the least Raph could do was make sure Leo wasn't alone.

Raph snarled and lashed out with his teeth when he felt a hand land on his shoulder. Splinter, who had taken up a position on the floor next to Raph, winced slightly at the attack, but did not move away. 

"What has happened, Red?" Splinter asked, laying a now-slightly-bloody hand on Leo’s forehead. 

"D-Donnie said that Leo had a seizure. And now he won't wake up, and I think he's gotta have a real bad fever, and—" Raph's flood of words was interrupted by a choking sob.

Splinter inhaled sharply at the word "seizure" and set his mouth into a thin line. He gently maneuvered Leo out of Raph's arms, ignoring the snapper's slight resistance, and sent his sons a reassuring look. "It sounds like Blue is not feeling well today. We shall tuck him into bed and let him rest now," he soothed.

Splinter stood up and began to walk out of the atrium. "I shall let Blue rest in my room. Red, take care of your brothers, and I will let you know when Blue is better," Splinter ordered.

Raph's world was spinning. The last few minutes had felt excruciatingly slow as he tried to figure everything out, but now he could barely keep up with how fast Splinter was moving. Raph pulled himself to his feet, nearly tripping over Donnie and Mikey in the process.

All three of them scrambled to follow Splinter, who was already disappearing down the hallway. "Let us come with you, Pops! Leo doesn't like to be alone!" Raph bargained, knowing none of them wanted to be apart from Leo after seeing the seizure. 

But Splinter didn't respond to Raph's cries. He didn't respond to any of their cries. He just left, taking Raph's sick little brother away.

Taking a part of his soul away.

Raph didn't see Leo until eight days later.

It was an agonizing eight days for four little turtles who only had each other. But no matter how much they pleaded, fought, or cried, Splinter refused to let them see Leo.

When Raph finally saw Leo stumble out of Splinter's room—looking exhausted and pale, but blessedly alive—he was not grateful to Splinter for taking care of Leo. Maybe he should have been. But instead, he felt like he had learned a lesson. They had all learned a lesson.

They would never let Splinter separate them again.

Chapter Text

Leo didn’t remember much about that day. He remembered the argument, waiting on the sidelines to find the perfect point to jump in, watching Mikey color from the corner of his eye, and then—burning.

It felt like someone had made a pyre out of his bones, and all he could do was try to scream as something blazed its way through him and made a home in his soul. He had thought it was never going to end. A part of him had begged for everything to end.

That was the first time he truly understood pain.

It was also the first time he saw the prison dimension.

When Leo emerged from that first vision, seizure, episode—whatever they were deciding to call it—he tried to tell Splinter what he saw. But Leo had been fighting a particularly vicious fever at the time, and everything Leo shared was dismissed as a fever dream. The cries of terror that the monster was coming, the pleas for Splinter to make sure Raph was okay, to make sure that the monster hadn't gotten his big brother, were were all brushed away.

Leo couldn't remember more than a few hazy, burning details, but he knew he saw too much for his young body to handle. Splinter had once offhandedly told him that he kept Leo away from his brothers at that time because he was terrified Leo wasn't going to make it. Honestly, from what he remembered of the event, Leo was surprised he made it.

So when Leo was finally well enough to stand on his own two feet, he dove into the world of medicine. He needed to learn all he could to fix this problem, and he could hopefully help his brothers along the way. It turned out helping his brothers was the easy part. Leo studied intensely, learning everything from wound care to physical therapy to ophthalmology. By the time he was fourteen, he was an accomplished medic with a custom med-bay courtesy of Donatello. But the brain was a fickle thing.

Leo's brain became a bit of a joint project between Donnie and Leo. Though, they admittedly had different goals.

Leo knew what he had experienced that day was not a seizure. What he saw was too vivid to be anything but a vision of some sort. The prison dimension was too terrifying to be a hallucination. But every time Leo considered telling one of his brothers, he would hear Splinter's voice in his mind, shushing him and telling him it was just a dream.

So at first, Leo believed his family. He studied seizures and took precautions. He did everything he was supposed to do. But nothing improved. None of the medications they stole or compounded helped. Reducing potential triggers didn't help. They even got desperate and tried some of Splinter's mysterious herbal tea blends, but the seizures just kept occurring.

Leo's seizures were chaotic in the beginning, ranging from daily to every few weeks. But they eventually evened out to a pattern, one or two long seizures every few months, and shorter ones a few times a week. 

Leo, knowing they weren’t seizures, took to calling them episodes. It created tension between Leo and Donnie, but Leo persisted. Leo called the long episodes "re-runs." Donnie called them tonic-clonic seizures. Donnie called the shorter episodes absence seizures. Leo called them "previews."

Tomato, tomahto.

But Leo had noticed a pattern. The re-runs seemed to be big events, the prison dimension, the key, the Shredder. The previews were more everyday things. Seeing Donnie pour a cup of coffee before he entered the kitchen, seeing Mikey's completed painting before his little artist had even started, just glimpses of what was to come.

At first, Leo tried to tell his brothers what was happening. But to say they didn't receive it well was an understatement. They weren't cruel about it, but just like Splinter, they assumed it was a side effect, hallucinations of some sort. Leo never stopped insisting that they weren't seizures, but eventually it just became easier to stop talking about it.

His family did their best to make him comfortable. Calling them episodes instead of seizures when talking to him, keeping him calm when he saw something horrifying, meeting Leo where he was at. But Leo heard his brothers worrying about him. His brothers thought Leo was trying to cope, that he couldn't handle the reality that his brain was broken. It terrified them that he seemingly could not acknowledge the reality of the situation.

Leo didn't like scaring his family.

So he eased back on the whole vision talk. He was the face-man! His family didn't need to worry about him! Leo did everything he could to reassure his family. He worked with Donnie to comb through endless brain scans, trained Mikey as an assistant medic, and followed Raph's buddy system so he wasn't alone. Leo decided it was best to keep the future to himself. He would figure it out. He didn't need to burden his family.

Four years after the first episode, Leo settled into acceptance. He couldn't control when an episode would happen, but he could take note and gather information for the future.

This approach infuriated Donnie.

Donnie approached Leo's brain with single-minded determination and focus. Donnie fixed things, and Leo needed help, it was that simple. But Leo's brain turned out to be anything but simple. Research, medication, scans, nothing worked. Donnie assumed it was because of their unique biology, but he wouldn’t give up. He would find a way to help Leo. In the meantime, Donnie focused on prevention and tools. He threw himself into creating anything that would keep Leo safe.

Most of them Leo rejected out of pure embarrassment. No, Don-tron, he would not be parading around in a helmet, no matter how "cool" he made it look. But Leo also realized compromises had to be made. The most lasting compromise was the detection system. After months of brain scans and data collection, Donnie created sensors and an AI sensitive enough to detect when an episode was going to occur. In the beginning, the sensors gave a five-second warning. Then, a few years later, eight seconds. And now Leo was awarded a full ten seconds before a re-run occurred. The previews were a little harder to nail down, much to Donnie's annoyance, but the sensors could still detect when one was in progress.

The sensors themselves wouldn't have been an issue. The real area of conflict and compromise was the alert system. Every time the sensors detected an episode, they would let out a chime, warning Leo and anyone else in the room. But an alert and location would also be sent to all the Hamatos.

Leo argued it was a surveillance state. His family argued that they didn't want to find him dead in a ditch. It wasn't exactly a fair fight.

So Leo wore his blue sensors daily. They were works of genius, created by Donnie, designed to look like sparkling starbursts by Mikey, and carefully fastened onto his mask by Raph. And before Leo even had a second to wallow in self-pity, April swooped in with star pins for everyone else.

"So everyone knows we're on the same team!" she declared in a tone so powerful that it made Leo forget the reality of the sensors. Yes, maybe he saw the world differently than the rest of his family, but that didn't mean they were on different teams. Every time Leo began to feel alone, began to wonder if he could really do anything with the visions, a star charm would glitter from Raph's belt or April's earring, and everything would feel a little more manageable. Leo's family was amazing like that.

But sometimes, even stars couldn't reach where Leo went.

The sensors on his mask let out their familiar chime. Ten seconds. He had ten seconds to find somewhere safe, to call out to his brothers, to brace himself. But Leo had learned long ago that ten seconds wasn't nearly enough time to prepare for what came next. Nothing could prepare him for the re-runs.

Nothing could prepare him for the prison dimension. 

The cold was devastatingly familiar. Leo had first met it when he was ten, and he had seen it often since that first episode. But somehow, after years of meetings, it still felt just as overwhelming at fourteen as it had at ten.

 It greeted Leo like an old friend, wrapping around his core with a welcoming whisper. The first few times Leo met the cold, he panicked. He flailed and screamed and did everything he could to escape. That had been a mistake, it had made him a beacon for the monster. So he learned to be quiet and still.

The next to greet Leo was the noise. The prison dimension had a peculiar soundtrack. A cacophony made up of a combination of groaning metal, distant screams, and devastating silence. It wasn't something you ever got used to, but Leo had learned to listen through it, to pick out the important sounds from the chaotic symphony of the prison.

And the last to greet Leo, well, let's just say he tried to avoid that at all costs.

Leo breathed deeply, forcefully relaxing his body as he drifted through the void. His right hand was curled close to his chest, white-knuckled fingers gripping a piece of paper. It was the only sign of consciousness he would allow himself. He had learned quickly not to give the prison any more signs than that.

Leo kept his eyes closed. It was easier that way, easier not to see it coming. But no matter how much he tried to disappear, no matter how much he prayed, it always found him.

Leo suppressed a flinch as he heard the creaking of its mechanical joints, as he felt the shudder in the air and saw the red of its gaze behind his eyelids. Leo had only a moment to brace himself for impact as a familiar scream pierced the silence of the prison dimension and the Krang dove in for the kill.

"You ruined EVERYTHING! And now, my wrath will be reserved for you alone."

The impact never came. It never did—not really. Because Leo wasn't there anymore. The cold released him with a violent shudder, spitting him back out into a world that was too bright, too loud, too real. 

His body remembered the fall even if his mind couldn't grasp it yet, muscles locked tight against a threat that had dissolved like smoke. Somewhere in the chaos of his reboot, Leo became aware of the rough texture of concrete against his cheek and the distant desperate sound of his own name being called. 

He couldn't answer. Couldn't move. Could only stare at a crack in the floor and wait for his brain to remember how to work.

The crack was more of a chip, if anything. Donnie worked hard to make sure the foundation of their home was stable, after all. But unfortunately for Donnie's pride as an engineer, it was the only thing Leo's poor, exhausted brain could focus on at the moment.

Leo debated just staying in whatever limbo of pain and confusion he had found himself in, purely because it felt too tiring to do anything else but exist. But even as confused as he was, Leo had a feeling his brothers wouldn't appreciate him choosing to wallow.

Well, when in doubt, gather more information.

Even though all he wanted to do was sleep for the next three days, Leo mustered up enough energy to shift his eyes upward slightly. The world was a disorienting and flickering mess, frames on a film reel rolling by too fast and too slow at the same time. In one of the frames, Leo saw his hand sprawled out on the floor in front of him.

Why was he on the floor? Was he lying down? Had he fallen?

Leo let out a huff of frustration as he tried to piece together a single coherent thought, but all he could do was stare at his hand as though it was a puzzle to be solved.

Thankfully, the feeling of distant pressure on his arm saved him from his overheating brain and helped his eyes focus. There was a familiar hand holding his arm, fingers wrapped loosely around his wrist. Taking your pulse, the distant medical part of his brain noted.

Whoever was holding his hand noticed his frustrated breath and gave his wrist two light squeezes. "151, 152, 15—oh, hello Leonardo, welcome back to the world of the living," Donnie said in a robotic tone.

Eugh, boy, that's his I'm-freaking-out-but-I'm-trapped-in-crisis-mode voice, Leo registered. Even when his brain was scrambled, Leo could clock Donnie's mental state in half a second.

Donnie's hand hesitated on Leo's wrist, moving to let go but instead readjusting the grip. Leo watched distantly as Donnie slid down from his crouched position beside him to lay on the floor opposite him, somehow maintaining his grip the entire time.

It took a few seconds for Leo to track his twin's movement and finally make eye contact, but when he did meet Donnie's intense golden stare, a part of Leo felt safe again. He didn't know what was happening, but Donnie was here. Donnie would make sure he was okay.

Donnie gazed intently into Leo's eyes, seemingly searching for something. Years of plots and teamwork had a part of Leo rising to help Donnie find his target. But the majority of Leo was still working on getting his eyes focused, so he didn't think he would be able to provide much aid at the moment.

Donnie pursed his lips and hunched his shoulders in distress when he met Leo's dazed stare. But instead of leaving the situation, a tried-and-true Donnie tactic, Donnie let out a tired sigh and settled down more firmly in front of Leo, seemingly waiting for something.

Leo wasn't sure how long they lay like that, mirror images of each other connected through the weight of Donnie's fingers on his pulse point. But eventually, Donnie's eyes flickered upward, as though he heard something. Faster than Leo's fractured brain could process, Donnie leaned forward and placed his left hand gently over Leo's ear, sweeping a finger back and forth on Leo's forehead absently in reassurance.

A sudden crash sounded behind Leo's back, but with Donnie's hand pressed firmly over one ear and Leo laying on his side—in recovery position?—Leo was thankfully spared from the full force of the sound. A twinge of pain radiated behind his eyes at the muffled sound, but his genius twin had spared him from the worst.

Leo sensed movement that accompanied the crash, but Donnie continued to study Leo's face intently, so Leo figured there wasn't too much to be worried about. A few frames of the film reel slipped by without Leo noticing, and suddenly Raph was in front of him.

Raph's eyebrows were furrowed, highlighting his patented Raph-chasm, but based on the fact that Raph hadn't picked Leo up and moved him somewhere else, Leo felt reassured that the situation wasn't dire.

"—in and out of it. The fatigue and confusion are to be expected considering this is his first tonic-clonic seizure in a while, but a part of me is concerned that he's also experiencing absence seizures right now," Donnie said in response to a question Leo hadn't heard.

Raph leaned down and placed a large warm hand on Leo's forehead, checking his temperature out of habit. "You said this one was almost three minutes? All the stuff we read said that the longer they last, the harder it is to recover," Raph fretted, worrying his lip between his teeth and glancing anxiously from Leo to Donnie. Leo was unable to meet his eyes, and Donnie was unwilling.

Donnie hummed in grim acknowledgement and began to move, seemingly spurred on by the reminder of the situation. Donnie haltingly removed his grip from Leo's wrist and maneuvered himself into a sitting position, continuing to shield Leo's ear as he spoke to Raph. Leo faintly registered Donnie and Raph discussing moving him, and he had a single moment to realize oh god, this is going to suck before they reached down to reposition him.

Leo's world spun, and the frames began to burn as his brothers gently but firmly propped him up against Raph's chest. A pained whine slipped out from Leo's gritted teeth, but he was soothed almost immediately as Raph pressed Leo's head against his chest and began to churr. Years of soothed nightmares and hurts had made sure that no matter how old any of the brothers got, that rumble would relax them instantly.

Leo hadn't realized his eyes were closed until an impatient snapping interrupted his drifting. "Eyes on me, Leo. I need to assess if you lost any brain cells during this latest episode. Einstein knows you can't afford to lose any more," Donnie ordered.

Leo squinted at Donnie in confusion, but with Raph's heart beating in his ear and Donnie's gaze holding him in place, he felt more aware than before. Donnie seemed to clock the increased recognition in Leo's eyes and barreled forward with his usual horrific bedside manner.

"Okay, Leo, given your everything right now—" Donnie waved vaguely at Leo's slumped posture "—I am postulating that verbal communication is off the table. But there is no need to worry your remaining three brain cells, as a genius, I have planned for this eventuality."

Leo felt Raph lean forward in interest as Donnie fished out a paper of some sort from his battle shell. A spindly arm began to emerge from the shell, but Donnie's gaze sharpened when he noticed Leo flinch from the reflection of light on the chrome arm, and the arm quickly retreated back into the shell.

Donnie straightened his back and thrust a piece of paper in front of Leo's face while announcing, "I present the Pictographic Cognition Assessment—PCA for short." Leo almost went cross-eyed trying to see the paper in front of him, and he let out a wheezing laugh when he finally processed what Donnie's oh-so-great PCA was.

It was a smiley face chart.

The chart consisted of a spectrum of different turtles ranging from a smiling green turtle on one end to a crying red turtle on the other. The turtles were very well drawn, Mikey's work, no doubt, but Leo wasn't sure whether to feel offended or grateful that his brothers had created something like this.

"Ah, he is cognizant enough to laugh at me. Hurtful, but also a helpful clue to the status of Nardo's faculties," Donnie deadpanned.

Leo felt a rumbling laugh against his back as Raph leaned forward with a teasing smile. "It's a very cute chart. Do ya think you get a lollipop at the end of the test if ya pass?" he asked Leo, somehow managing to make fun of and support both twins in one comment.

Donnie ignored the comment with a slight eye roll and held the chart more firmly in front of Leo in emphasis. He then proceeded to run Leo through a series of questions and checks, Leo barely keeping up through a combination of pointing at the chart and clumsily signing an answer.

The world felt sharper at the end of the battery of questions, and Leo was able to maintain eye contact and focus by the time Donnie sat back with a satisfied hum. "How's it lookin'?" Raph questioned, brushing his thumb absentmindedly across Leo's brow. Leo leaned back to give Raph a reassuring smile, which Raph responded to by gently leaning their foreheads together.

"Well, given the length of that episode and the lasting symptoms, I'm not going to say it's ideal," Donnie reported bluntly. Raph tensed at the information, and Leo heard the swish of Raph's tail as it started to sway anxiously.

Leo shot Donnie an irritated look from underneath Raph's chin and reached up to pat Raph on his plastron twice over the heart. Donnie met Leo's glare head-on and scowled. "Well, I'm not going to lie to him, Leo. Your brain just went through the equivalent of a war."

Donnie stood up and began to shake out his limbs as he continued to speak. "But I did not see any catastrophic red flags, so my current recommendation is that our beloved dumb-dumb will be fine after a lot of rest." Donnie paused and sent Leo a meaningful look. "At least until our resident medic is back on his feet."

Welp, that was a dismissal if Leo had ever heard one. Leo held a shaking hand in front of his face and brought his fingers together, emphatically requesting "sleep?" in sign language.

"Ah, that's my cue," Raph responded, effortlessly standing up while still cradling Leo in his arms. Raph began to walk toward the living room, chatting with Donnie about setting up a fort for everyone to sleep in tonight. Leo relaxed as his world began to sway with Raph's gait, and he was asleep before they even reached the doorway.