Whumptober: All Trussed Up And Still Nowhere To Go

Whumptober: All Trussed Up And Still Nowhere To Go

It was supposed to be a simple patrol, a little investigation. They had suspected this group of being corrupt, or maybe doing some black market trade. It was supposed to be fine. Instead, they were running for their lives, lurching past closing walls and doors in a desperate attempt to get to the roof. At least up there, they would have a fighting chance, without humans chasing them down, taking shortcuts that they didn't know of, routes that could have saved them so much time and possibly even have allowed them to avoid this whole situation.

Michelangelo, in front, slammed the roof access door open, and they all flooded out after him. There was no time to close doors, no time to be quiet, they had to go right then. As they kept running, Leonardo glanced behind, no humans followed them up, but that didn’t mean that there weren’t more following from the ground.

Stupid multi-building complex. It limited their ability to get out fast, and meant a bigger chance of being seen by the people who owned it or worked at it.

Alarms started up, and bright spotlights were turned on and shoot, they weren’t going to make it out, were they? He caught the look Raphael sent him, and he couldn’t exactly read it, but he had a good enough idea of what his brother was trying to get across to him. Past that, Donatello and Michelangelo shared a glance and they both looked terrified. They were all scared, he knew that, he could feel the distant terror himself, but letting it take over meant capture.

It meant death.

All he could do was keep up at the rear and make sure everyone was alright in the moment because at the very least, they knew a path out once on the rooftop.

...Dang it, he was right. There were people at the bottom of the buildings, dressed in black, bulletproof equipment and holding guns. If you squinted, more specifically, dart guns.

Oh, so they were aiming for- OH-

They were aiming for capture.

“GUYS!” Leonardo shouted over the wind and the alarms, getting their attention, “Watch out for the guns!”

There was a flash of terror in the youngest’s eyes as he glanced at Leonardo and Donatello looked down, the crease between his eye ridges deepening. Raphael only nodded, never looking back.

And then, all of a sudden, there was a dart in his neck and his vision was blurring. It started on the outside, barely noticeable, and then it intensified, pushed further in and gave him tunnel vision. Of course he ripped it out immediately, he wasn’t stupid.

But he wasn’t fast enough, the drug had entered his system and it was taking its toll. He was aware of the fact that he was lagging behind, after all, with his limited vision, he could see that they were getting ahead. He could see it, but he was tired, he was so, so tired. It felt like he could lay down and sleep forever, but in the recesses of his mind, he knew he had to stay awake. Just a little longer, just a little longer. There was a jump coming up, he had to make it, he couldn’t not.

It was… It was a lot bigger than he anticipated, he realized as they came up closer. They didn’t usually make jumps that big in a night. Not only that, but they would be jumping over barbed wire to get to the other building outside the complex. If one of them didn’t make it and fell? They’d be feeling that for weeks, assuming they weren’t taken because of the slip up. His worries could only grow.

I’m not going to make it, he realized bitterly. That was just a truth he would have to accept. He was not going to make it. They’d have to leave him.

He could only pray they were smart enough to realize that.

Michelangelo went first, doing a little aerial spin to show off while mid-air. Made it.

Donatello was second, more wary of the size of the gap, but still jumping when he believed the timing was right. Made it.

Raphael went next. He jumped just a tad too early and ended up skittering at the edge, but he made it.

It was Leonardo’s turn next, and he was dreading it. Why even try when he knew he was going to fall? He was dizzy and tired, everything was moving in slow motion and he could barely hear the alarms, but he was aware enough to realize that Raphael had paused to wait, realizing the eldest had fallen behind.

Idiot.

He knew he would fall, but Leo jumped anyway.

He jumped just a tad too early, misjudging the distance.

He skittered at the edge.

He did not make it.

Raphael had only stayed about a foot away from the edge, off to the side, and lurched forward, grabbing Leonardo by the wrist and grunting from the effort it took to keep him up.

“Gods- Fearless, how much have you been eating-?”

He took a second to take in Leonardo’s appearance. The moment it clicked was clear, and Leonardo felt sick.

“Oh,” the hot-head whispered, then turned and yelled for Donatello, resident doctor. He realized he wasn’t going to be able to do it alone. Their shells were heavy, Leonardo knew from experience from holding his brothers up.

Donatello screamed something back over the alarms, but Leonardo heard a gun reload and he didn’t want his brothers there anymore. Still, Raphael lingered, clinging on desperately. Donatello argued with Michelangelo in the background, screamed at him to leave. There were people coming out of buildings and police blocks and if his brothers didn’t leave soon, they'd all be goners.

“Hey, idiot,” Raphael has to yell, “Stay awake, alright? You ain’t dyin’ here. Stay with me. You can’t die here.”

The last part felt more desperate, and he could feel the shake in Raphael’s hands. Leonardo wanted to say something, wanted to reassure him or to pull himself up, but his tongue felt heavy as he struggled to speak, to say what he needed. Somewhere, in the back of his brain, hidden in the depths of the fog, he knew that in the end, Raphael would not be strong enough to hold him when he passed out. Donatello would not be fast enough to assist the hothead.

He was going to fall, and he knew it, even when he couldn't form coherent thoughts, even when he was fighting to stay awake.

Finally, Leonardo realized what he needed to say before he could leave them behind. It had to be fast, though, so he could get the message across quickly.

“I love you,” he choked out, vision darkening as he fought desperately to stay away, “I love you, I love you-”

The eldest was slipping. They were heavy, Raphael could not do it alone, he was slipping.

Donatello, in the back, finally sent Michelangelo away, then turned and raced towards them. Leonardo had fallen before he ever managed to get near, he heard the hot-head scream, but he didn’t ever remember letting go.

There were more humans coming, there were people with guns, Donatello had to grab Raphael’s shoulder and tear him away.

In the last moment he was awake, he remembered being faintly proud of them.

Leonardo was out long before he ever hit the ground.

%%%

The blue-clad turtle woke slowly. Sleep tugged at his mind and tried to convince him to return, but he knew he couldn’t. Something was wrong, something was wrong but what was-?

Oh.

Oh right.

As he became more aware, he realized that his arms and sides burned from scrapes and cuts. He must have fallen onto the barbed wire. He couldn’t see anything, but from the smell of disinfectant and other various chemicals, he knew that it was at the very least clean. But, with a little more movement and a sudden protest from sore muscles and damaged scales, he realized he was tied up.

Really tight, at that. Behind him, his arms and wrists were held together, legs bound at the knee and ankle, and his arms actually tied to his torso. It didn’t take long to realize he had been like that for a while, from how badly he was hurting in those areas. Did they really need to truss him up? At least it was quiet. It allowed him to think, with nothing other than the soft whir of machinery and the hum of fluorescent lights in other places that reminded him of Donatello’s lab.

There was nothing to do, the restraints could not be broken, and there was still a fuzzy feeling in his head. Maybe he could go back to sleep?

As he reconsidered and silently scolded himself for giving up, a door opened up, letting a blinding bright light into the room. Somebody walked in, and, as a reminder that he couldn’t hurt them, two armed men (men? Maybe women, he didn’t know) stood at the doorway.

So that’s the kind of place it was, huh? Dang it.

He writhed and wiggled even though he knew the binds were so tight they might as well be tourniquets, and he couldn't escape them. He hissed and snapped when he was lifted up by the edge of his shell and dragged along to a gurney where the binds were taken off so that he can quickly be tied down to the bed and secured more efficiently. His mind was so foggy from the leftover drug that he couldn't even fight it, just hiss and make that intimidating growl that alligators make to try and dissuade them from messing with him. The scientist(? Guard? Keeper?) was phased only for a second, then pushed the gurney along. The real guards, however, were not at all phased, they only hiss back.

Leonardo could only wonder where they were taking him. If the thick scent of chemicals in the air was any indicator, he would presume it was some kind of lab.

When they come to a stop, he realizes that the room they were in had quite a bit of medical equipment in it and-

Oh, that was a CT scan. Of course.

He began to regret everything, because really, there was no better time to be worrying than right at that moment. They move him from spot to spot, making sure he didn’t wriggle to his freedom or accidentally get hurt while they did… Whatever they were doing. The scribble of a pen on paper, and various clicks and beeps were his sign that they were actually gathering some kind of results from their tests. And then, the unarmed person put on gloves, and began to try and force his mouth open, and Leonardo presumed it was for a cheek swab. He growled, loud and clear, then suddenly forced his jaws back closed onto their hand, biting hard enough to draw blood. They yelped and pulled their hand back, and oh man that was a gun at his head.

His breathing hitched and he was afraid, but the unarmed human said not to shoot. He was new and prized, they wanted him alive. The next time, the guards forced his mouth open and he growled and spit while the scientist got the cheek swap. There was a scale sample taken afterwards, and a blood sample after that. When they were all done, he was taken back to the room, trussed up again, and left alone.

Or-

Maybe this was a different room? There was a camera in this one. Or maybe there was a camera in the last one (or the same one) and he didn't notice.

…

Even so, now that the drugs were fully wearing off, he was afraid. They were leaving him alone in an empty room, with no idea what was going to happen and he was scared, dang it. The cuts were stinging and he was sore, he had no idea how long he had been bound for. There were humans who knew of their existence, and he prayed to whatever deity was listening that his brothers were okay, that they left after he fell before they could be spotted by even more people or captured.

Oh wait, when was his last tetanus shot? Was the wire rusty? Shoot.

But, then again, maybe he already got one. They did want him alive, after all.

He struggled with the restraints for a bit, but gave up rather quickly, realizing nothing was going to happen.

The second ticked by like minutes. He wasn’t entirely sure how long it was until the door opened up again, but he did know that it was a different person. Still, there were two guards again. He was dragged out and tied to the gurney again, but this time there was another drug, a needle pushed into the side of his neck and he was immediately groggy. There was a thick fog in his mind, he couldn’t think and could barely move, muscles relaxed, forced to be calm on his way there, could barely see anything with the way his vision blurred, first at the edges, then quickly moving in until it was all blurry.

Separate rooms and bright, fluorescent lights faded away until he was in a darker part of the building, more sounds of animals to be heard, but not ones he had ever heard before. Guttural grunts, violent screams, and long howls melded together into the perfect mix for a skull-shattering migraine. What, was this some kind of messed up zoo?

Eventually, he was brought into a smaller room, carefully untied and plopped in. It was darker and smaller but the floor was a heck of a lot softer and oh, they thought he was a normal animal. Guess his magician's trick was working.

Extra large turtle to be shown to people and private collectors, coming right up, he presumed. Well, if he was already viewed as an animal, might as well keep that ruse up. Things would definitely get worse if they realized he was actually intelligent.

%%%

Was he gone for hours? Days? Weeks? Honestly, he didn’t know, nor did he want to.

However, over the next period of time, they were trying more and more foods. At least they didn’t want him to starve?

At first, they tried insects, trying to follow some kind of turtle’s diet, he guessed. But, at first, he had standards, and did not want the insects.

The next time they tried (he thought they tried after a few days), they brought various fruits. Still, he did not eat, even if it was just to spite them when they realized that their new pet wasn’t going to eat.

They tried some raw meat after, trying to toss it closer to him to see if they could provoke him into taking it. But, he had starved himself, and the smell only made his stomach roll, and yes, he was sick all over their (not so) nice floor.

At last, they tried some small fishes, this time giving him distance. Still, he wouldn’t touch it. They had to break eventually, right? He knew this method, knew from personal experience with other animals that it worked.

But the caretakers did not give. They only struggled, getting worried, not knowing how long he wouldn’t eat for and concerned that stress will make him starve, but he definitely had enough energy to bite them when they tried to get close.

Eventually, they came around and tried fruit again, hoping that it would spark some interest with something soft and sweet.

And, as ashamed as he was about it, Leonardo gave, devoured it like a wolf. If he planned on getting out, then he needed the energy and strength.

After regaining some of his energy, and realizing that he was free to move around, he began to pace around the room, never leaving the all-fours position in case they were watching, and trying to find some kind of weak point he could use for his escape.

Sleep, eat, drink, look for weak points, repeat. Over and over, no change in the routine, until.

Until they opened the door one day, a metal cage that felt too small just looking at it pushed up against the doorway. There were two guards, per usual, behind it, and a keeper stepping over the cage to get to him.

And holy crap, they were strong.

Despite his screams like a child denied a piece of candy, they wrestled him down and strapped a muzzle over his face to keep him from taking off somebody’s hand, then clipped a collar around his neck, a lead attached to it to try and drag him along. As soon as they stood up, though, believing that he would be calm after being restrained, he made a mad dash straight at the crate, dragging them along behind him, and jumped over it. Their grip loosened on the leash, and he was more than satisfied to hear them cry out as they crumpled behind him.

How did he forget about the guards there, though? He didn’t know. In his desperate attempt to get free, he had forgotten about the people standing there to prevent escape.

One wrapped their arms around his torso and forced him down, restraining flailing limbs and dragging him backwards while trying not to have something slammed into them. The other held the cage in place for them while the first wrestled him into it.

While he made as much noise as possible to very clearly represent his disappointment in them and threw himself against the bars, truly throwing himself into the “feral animal” role, they tried not to drop him while bringing him elsewhere.

The next room he was in was as dim as the last and dead silent. It was so quiet that you could hear a pin drop without even trying, and that fact was almost disconcerting. There should have been some kind of sound. The whir of light or machinery, other people, other creatures, but there was just… Nothing.

Leonardo made the mistake of hesitating to try and hear anything, right before they set him down rather roughly, rough enough to send him tumbling onto his side and for the keeper to scold the other two for pretty much dropping him. Before he could get up, a needle was pushed into his neck again, and it didn't take much to realize that this drug worked much faster than the other two.

He was half-asleep within seconds, and before he could try to tell himself to stay aware, he was completely out.

Whumptober: Rumors Of My Death Have Been Greatly Exaggerated (3/5)

Hours turned to days, weeks to months, and months to a full year.

Leonardo was not coming back, and they would have to accept that. If he had stayed away for so long, then he was definitely dead. He wouldn’t willingly leave them like that, right?

Raphael did not want to accept that. Not just that Leonardo was part of his family, and accepting that meant giving up on him, but the weight of being leader fell onto his shoulders, a role he swore that he would never attempt to take again. That was Leonardo’s role, nobody else’s.

And, he had to take it. Because Leonardo was gone for good.

That’s how Raphael found himself alone, on the surface, kicking stones and other debris around in his anger. Leonardo had to still be alive, he had to be. They were just giving up on him, when he could very well be alive and stuck.

Raphael grit his teeth and bit back the scream forming. He couldn’t cause a scene on the surface, not when people were probably still awake. Crumpling by a sign, he gripped the sides of his head and sobbed, knowing he was alone. It felt like he was going insane, why did that idiot have to play martyr?

A couple minutes passed, or maybe it was more. Maybe it was a half hour, or an hour. Maybe he had his family worried. He couldn’t care right then, he just wanted to be alone.

But being alone was not a privilege he got. He could feel something or someone standing there, hovering nearby.

He stilled, breathing hitching as silent tears continued to fall down his face, before he slowly looked up.

It was- It was Leonardo? No, it couldn’t be, he was gone for a year. The apparition stared, wide-eyed. They had no gear, and Raphael lost count of the sheer amount of scars lining their limbs and plastron almost as soon as he tried to count them.

That was not his brother. His brother was dead, his brother was gone for a year, disappearing behind a heavy metal wall. It had to be a ghost. There was no other reasonable answer.

Something between sorrow and wrath bubbled up inside Raphael, followed by a few other emotions that flashed by so fast he couldn’t pause to identify them. That wasn’t his brother. That was a ghost, a dream, a hallucination, something, it just wasn’t Leonardo.

Still, the ghost crouched and reached their hand out, tilting their head, smiling in the soft way the oldest always did when any of them were afraid or sad, it was too close, too close-

Raphael shivered, then forced both his hands down, throwing a punch at the ghost and standing as they backed up. Why did it keep antagonizing him like this? What was the joy there? He didn’t want to see the oh so familiar face anymore, he wanted to be left alone!

The scream from earlier finally escaped him as he chased after the spirit, trying to hit it, maybe then it would leave him to his misery.

Or maybe it would take him, maybe he could leave with Leonardo, then.

Either way, it kept dodging, moving fluidly around his punches in a circle around the roof, never fighting back, not disappearing. Raphael didn’t know which he wanted more; For it to fight back, although incorporeal, or for it to leave so he could continue wallowing in self-pity.

“He left us!” Raphael yelled, no longer caring who heard or what happened, tears flowing down his face without a problem, “He’s probably dead, because we haven’t heard a single thing from him in a year, and there’s no way he’d leave us that long!”

Something flashed on the ghost’s face that almost resembled guilt, but Raphael missed it, crumpling back to the ground and voice cracking with sobs as he shook his head. “And now? I’m screaming at his ghost, trying to fight it for God’s sake, and I feel like I’m going insane.”

%%%

Leonardo looked his brother over from where he stood, eye ridges knitted in concern. How far had they fallen in the time he was gone, so that Raphael openly cried like this, that he thought Leonardo was a ghost?

Seriously, he crossed half of America, just for this to happen.

He approached the shaking figure slowly, crouched back down and slowly reached out, nervous that the other might strike out at him again.

Thankfully, Raphael did not. In fact, he didn't even seem to notice Leonardo at that point. Leonardo took a chance, grabbing a firm hold of his wrist and hoping he didn't scare the other too much.

Raphael attempted to jerk away, eyes wide as he looked to Leonardo, panicking.

"Hey," Leonardo moved to hold his hand instead, gripping it tightly between both of his, "Hey, it's me. It's me, Raph. It's me, I'm real. Look, look, I can touch you. I'm holding you. You can even hit me if you want."

Raphael paused, looking him over. Did he believe Leonardo? The eldest hoped so, although he also hoped that the younger wouldn't actually attempt to hit him.

He stared for a longer moment, dead silent, before:

"Leo?"

"Yes?"

Another choked son left him as he lunged forward, trapping Leonardo in a crushing hug. Leonardo froze, tense, but slowly hugged him back, shushing him and rubbing his shell.

They sat together until Raphael's sobs faded to sniffles. Leonardo waited for Raphael to say that he was done, when all of a sudden, the hothead pulled away and dragged Leonardo up after him. After the initial alarm passed, the older said nothing, realizing that they were heading down to the manhole.

Honestly, it just made the whole process easier. He had already been planning on how to come back, he just… Didn't know how to come back to them naturally. So yeah, having Raphael take him there made it a lot easier-

Did that shadow just move? Nobody was following them, right?

...Nothing moved, it was just a trick of the light, there was no one there.

Still, he scanned the darkness, just in case. Raphael paid his behavior no mind, focusing solely on getting him home. Once at the lair, Raphael slammed something- Leonardo didn't see what- Down, making extra noise to grab the younger two's attention.

They looked up from where they had been bickering, and froze, silent. Then, they erupted in screams, running at him and scooping Leonardo up in a hug. Leonardo melted into their grip, just relieved to be home. He missed the warmth, the low hum of electronics, his brothers, most of all.

Then, they were all asking questions, firing them at him like a machine gun, and he had to cut them off, getting one question and giving one answer at a time.

By the end of it, they were all concerned, because to be fair, it sounded less than pleasurable.

Leonardo smiled, to reassure them.

And then he collapsed.

Whumptober: I’ve Got Red In My Ledger

Leonardo spun forward, slicing his blades down on anything that came near him in a deadly dance. Behind him, he could hear Raphael doing almost the same, anything that dared attack violently killed. He was enjoying himself, too.

Donatello and Michelangelo were definitely doing just fine, too, used to these enemies. Leonardo was pleased, glad to see them finally independent in battle.

Above them, Karai provided support, suddenly taking down an enemy that was getting a bit too close with a throwing sword or kunai, lunging down and stabbing one in the head before returning to her previous position, keeping herself both helpful and available.

Their enemies, the Kraang, were cleared out quickly with an ethic like that, nothing but metallic corpses left around, still and unmoving.

"Was that it?" Raphael called, sounding vaguely disappointed.

"It should be," Donatello chirped back as he picked around one of the bodies.

"I hope it was," Leonardo looked his swords over. Darn, he really needed to get back into the care routine he had before the space thing that happened, however he was supposed to explain that. One of the blades was chipped.

Michelangelo engaged in a game of catch with Karai, using a head as a ball while the rest of them poked around for anything useful, shouting taunts to get her off guard.

A pillar moved.

Leonardo would have brushed it off as a trick of the light, but, being as paranoid as he was, he found himself moving towards it instead.

He could have sworn he saw it move, in the far corner of the room, even if it was just a slight shift to the right-

It moved again, the cracks between plates that seemed like an artistic trend in anything made by Kraang widening.

"Guys?" Leonardo called, the panic in his voice showing as he took a few very large steps back.

The pillar was definitely moving now, slowly expanding as plates moved to reveal bunched up limbs that grabbed at whatever solid support was near to move itself upward.

Oh.

Well. That sucked.

The creature that stood before him reminded him of that one robot samurai they had to fight that one time. (He never remembered the names of the things they had to fight, but he was fairly certain that one’s name was Chrome Dome or something like that).

Behind him, banter and play stopped, everyone bracing for… Whatever Michelangelo planned on naming it.

Then it lunged.

And God was it fast. It moved fast enough to force them to try and keep up, struggling more and more by the second as they had already been coming down from their previous battle. Their mistake. Weapons bounced off its metal plating unless you were specifically aiming for the gaps between its main body and its limbs. Even then, that was risky, close range, and not likely to work. After an especially rough blow to the plastron that he was sure broke his ribs, Leonardo was not too eager to try that again.

Still, they had to have put an emergency shut-down in there somewhere, just in case it went haywire. The Kraang were probably just as hesitant about fighting as they were, right?

Shifting to a more evasive fighting style, Leonardo began to keep an eye out for something they could use as a weak spot, anything that would help them take it down. Already, he was hurting, and he could see that the others were too, blood dripping from various injuries caused by an arsenal of weapons.

It always had a weak spot, there was no way that this one didn’t have one too.

There, on its shoulder, and of course it was somewhere that it could reach.

Leonardo considered, for a moment, that he was getting too old for this, even though he was only just getting into his 20s.

But Karai was in a good spot to hit it, it would really only take one hit, and it would all be over.

“There’s a shut-down on its right shoulder,” he pointed out, getting a couple glances from the others, “Try to grab it if you can!”

With that pointed out to the others, he glanced up to Karai, looking to her for assistance.

And she, noting that he needed her help, catching his glance, paused to look the battle over, then smirked and back out, taking their entry to get out.

Freaking he-

Leonardo ducked down and snaked backwards to avoid getting hit, and heard Raphael yell something after Karai that he didn’t catch. It probably wasn’t that important anyway. What was important though, was actually paying attention to the task at hand.

Gliding over to Michelangelo, Leonardo nudged him, signaling from his chains to the robot (had Michelangelo named it already? There hadn’t been a lot of commentary this time around). It seemed to click almost immediately, and Leonardo stepped back to avoid getting in the way as Michelangelo threw the weapon in a curve, then darted around to grab it and wrap it around the metallic soldier.

Going round and round until he had it secured, Michelangelo bounced back to Leonardo, struggling to hold it and silently requesting assistance. While the oldest and youngest grappled the chains, fighting to hold it still, a sai went flying over their heads and into the hand of Donatello, who promptly adjusted his grip on the weapon and went clambering up the enemy’s back, sai raised to-

It- It collapsed.

The chains slackened as it crumpled to the ground, unmoving, and Donatello hopped off to avoid falling. For a long moment, everyone was silent.

“Did- Did you get it?” Michelangelo asked tentatively.

“No-” Donatello almost shrieked, looking it over.

“So it just shut down on its own?” Raphael eyed the body suspiciously, as if it might get up and start moving at any second.

“I don’t know Raph, it just suddenly fell, I didn’t do anything to it!”

They all paused, still watching, still waiting, just in case it got back up. Leonardo tightened his grip on the chains and pulled back slightly to tighten them. That way, if it did try again, they would already have it down. He’s restrained large creatures before, it wasn’t like he couldn’t do it again.

Seconds turned to minutes without any sign of life, and slowly, they relaxed, gathering up weapons and turning to leave. It wasn’t up anymore, and they had finished up everything else they needed to do, so there really wasn’t much point in staying anymore. After all, they were injured, too, they needed to take care of those. Donatello could only work so fast in the middle of a fight, so any stitches he had to give while they were out of sight were hastily done.

On their way down to the sewers, Raphael rambled about the stunt Karai pulled, clearly angry at her. Leonardo silently lamented as he still didn’t trust their sister as he talked, bracing for raised voices and insults.

“Raph,” he began, trying to keep his voice soft, “calm down. You’re getting worked up over nothing.”

“I’m getting worked up over nothing ?!” Raphael whirled on his heel, snarling at Leo, “She left us in the middle of a fight, Leo! I’m not going to calm down! You brought her here, this is  your fault!”

“It was probably a misunderstanding, Raph. She’s been on our side for a long time now. Please just lower your voice, at least.”

Raphael was still wound up from the battle, Leonardo could see it in his face and in his posture. Tense, squared up, jumpy. His adrenaline was still going, and it probably wasn’t the best idea to agitate him further.

And he was staring, he was silent. Raphael wasn’t usually silent when he was angry, what was going on-?

Leonardo reeled back when Raphael lashed out at him, but not fast enough. There was a sharp crack, and he realized that there was blood dripping from his beak long before the pain actually registered. There was blood on the hothead’s knuckles, too, but he looked like something had suddenly clicked and he was definitely regretting what he did.

Leonardo, however, could not find the energy in himself to really care.

Raphael almost immediately began feverishly apologizing while Donatello tried to peer past Leonardo’s hand at his beak, scolding Raphael for striking out like that. Michelangelo yelled something along the lines of “that was uncalled for”.

“Leo, move your hand,” Donatello ordered, and Leonardo obeyed, pulling his hand away and seeing red. Oh, great.

“Well,” The resident doctor announced after a long moment, “I’m pretty sure it’s broken, but we’ll find out once we get home. Raph, when this is over, we are going to have a very long talk.”

Leonardo “hmm”ed softly as they started walking again, wiping blood off his face. The pain was, in the moment, actually manageable. It wasn’t too terrible, he really didn’t understand what the big deal was. Faces were easy to break anyway, he was fine as long as it didn’t really affect anything.

%%%

Once home, Donatello approached Leonardo with the first aid kit, clearly wanting to go to him first since he possibly had his beak broken.

But one glance over Donatello, and Leonardo knew that he should probably get some care first.

“Don, take a look at yourself, first. If you’re bleeding all over the place you can’t take care of anybody else.”

The purple-clad opened his mouth like he wanted to argue with him over that, before realizing that no, it was not an argument he was going to win. He lingered for a long moment, then turned away to deal with the others first. Leonardo smirked, knowing he had won, and turned his attention to cleaning his katanas and figuring out the best way to repair the chip in the blade.

Eventually, when Donatello returned, bandaged and looking a little more than annoyed, he grabbed Leonardo’s face and made him look at the genius before slowly bandaging his beak. Leonardo said nothing, although the movements jostled whatever was broken and made it sting, he refused to wince or hiss over something so small. While Donatello went on to cleaning and bandaging the other injuries, he confirmed his earlier suspicion.

“It is broken.”

Raphael flinched, like that was the worst thing in the world (Leonardo knew it was guilt, but didn’t say anything about that).

“Oh,” he said, mulling it over. Like he said, it wasn’t too bad, it was only his beak.

“What do you mean oh?” Donatello’s voice raised slightly, almost into a screech.

“I mean, it's not really that bad, right? It's not gonna, y’know, affect anything, it just hurts.”

Everybody blinked, astonished, before it clicked that of course Leonardo would be so unbothered by it, he was just Leonardo, he didn’t really have the energy, nor the will to care about things like that anymore.

Donatello scowled and Raphael still apologized anyway, Michelangelo was silent across the room, staring at Leonardo.

Leonardo had to cut Raphael off. It was fine, he was angry too, he knew that they still didn’t fully trust Karai, it was fine, it was fine.

He could still tell that Raphael was beating himself up about it, though. It was always clear, the hothead was like an open book.

%%%

It was two in the morning.

It was two in the morning.

It was two in the morning.

Raphael groaned and rolled over to slap the hand shaking him, presuming that it could only be Michelangelo.

Instead, the hand he grabbed was far more callused from endless hours of training, scarred from brutal battles that were long past.

He paused, blinking the sleep from his eyes as he tried to get his head working. They had to fight blind plenty of times, they all learned to recognize each other just by the feel of their scales and hands. There was only one person who trained enough to get his hands that rough, free of childish innocence and soft skin.

“Leo?” Raphael mumbled, slowly sitting up and yawning, “What is it?”

“I need you to come with me, we’re supposed to meet up with Karai,” Leonardo whispered in the dark, still invisible to Raphael. They were-

“What?”

“Mhm. She texted me like, an hour ago. She wants to explain to the two of us. You, because you were so upset and me because, y’know.”

“Oh.”

Raphael blinked a few more times. His eyes had finally adjusted to the dark, and he could see a burning gaze fixated on him. It was almost creepy. After all, Leonardo always managed to be the stealthiest of them, so it was like those horror movies, just seeing a shadow, then bright eyes reflecting dim light and just. Staring.

He grunted and kicked out weakly to move the older of the two before he crawled out of bed, yawning again and stretching. “Alright, alright, let's go.” He didn’t even have his mask on yet, but this was clearly something that Leonardo wanted to get to quickly, and considering that Raphael planned on getting back to sleep immediately, he wasn’t too eager about getting his gear on for this event.

As they got going, he kept his eye on the bandages over his brother’s beak. Frick- He did that? Why? What was even his point? Instead of asking if Leonardo was angry, what came out was:

“Why'd she only want us to come?”

“Me and her are closer and you're more distrustful. Don and Mikey are just neutral towards her, she assumed they’d be less angry about it.”

“Oh.”

“Oh is right. Move faster, we'll be late at this rate.”

“It's the middle of the day for humans, Leo.”

“And? She will leave if we take too long.”

They neared what Raphael could only assume was the meeting spot, the roar of water getting louder until it was almost deafening. By the waterfall, Karai was leaned up against the wall, and Raphael’s rage flared up. That little-

He paused for just a second, trying to take deep breaths and soothe his anger. Something bad had already come out of it, he didn’t need anymore guilt on his mind.

Still, she smiled at them like nothing had happened, and didn’t even move to stand up straight. He wanted to wring her neck because of it. No apology? Nothing? No “sorry for abandoning you when you needed help”?

“What’s up?” she greeted casually, like nothing happened.

“You know what’s up,” he snarled, unable to help himself from snarking at her.

"Raph," Leonardo whisper-hissed, "Don't yell at her." After a moment to compose himself, the eldest met Karai's gaze evenly. "Still, we do want to know: Why?"

"Yeah, about that," Karai began, rubbing the back of her head, "I didn't really, y'know mean anything by it. I just knew an easier way to take it down quickly, and well, it'd be faster to do that, too, so…"

As she trailed off, Raphael shrank where he stood.

Oh. It really was a misunderstanding.

Leonardo nodded as if he understood what she had done and why she had done it. He probably did, too.

"Sorry, it uh, it probably looked like I was just leaving, huh? And uh, you're all definitely worse for wear."

Leonardo thanked her for apologizing, and Raph felt nothing as his brother did. that was not what he needed to make his night better.

Before he realized it, Leonardo was poking him, telling him Karai left a bit ago, he was waiting for Raphael to process, and they needed to go. Raphael nodded stiffly and walked in a daze, head down.

"You were right," Raphael mumbled at some point, getting a look and a "hm?". "It was just a misunderstanding. Sorry about- Y'know, about hitting you."

Leonardo stared for a long minute, leaving Raphael in uncomfortable silence for a bit before smiling, "It's alright, I already told you that, Raph.”

And there he went, just accepting the apology like it was nothing, because he was Leonardo.

Raphael turned on the TV when they got back, switching the channel to the news before settling down, unable to sleep. Leonardo, apparently, had the same idea, sitting down next to him. This time, silence was far more cozy. When they fell asleep there, nobody said a word about it in the morning.

Whumptober: Oops, I Did It Again

They were about nine when Leonardo's asthma started getting bad. He had always had it, and they all knew it, but the symptoms were less before, now they were persistent. It was probably the more advanced training they got, which was why he had to tap out more often when it acted up, moreso in the winter. It wasn't terrible, but was definitely annoying for him, especially when he was striving to be the best out of them.

%%%

God, NO, why right now?

There it was, the growing wheeze, an inability to breathe, the growing urge to cough, right when Leonardo needed to not have an asthma attack. Splinter had promised to teach them something special on their eleventh mutation day, and low and behold, he had a flare-up right after warm-ups.

Leonardo grit his teeth, swallowing his anger, and clenched his hands into fists before opening one back up and raising it.

"Excuse me, Sensei?" he began politely, catching the attention of his brothers as well, "Can I tap out for this session?"

Splinter looked almost surprised- Scratch that, he was astonished that Leonardo was leaving a lesson he had been so excited for for months. He looked as though he was about to ask why, but the faint wheeze coming from Leonardo filled the silence and answered the question as to why he was asking to sit it out. Splinter nodded, and Leonardo spent the rest of the lesson with a quick-relief in his hands, watching the others go through katas.

Occasionally, his brothers glanced over to him, seeming concerned and guilty, but nothing was said and he only waved, smiling to reassure them.

By the time the lesson was over, the attack had ended, leaving him in a frustrated bubble. He sat there, just a little longer, then shook his head to try and dissipate the anger he felt and stood up.

Maybe next time.

%%%

He was about fourteen when his symptoms started fading. Slowly but surely, he started getting less and less attacks, until they one day faded all together. By the time they were almost fifteen, he was completely free. Donatello said maybe he outgrew his asthma, but he couldn't care less about what happened that caused it, he was free from it!

And just in time for them to go up to the surface.

%%%

The air on the ship was cold.

It was like being in a fridge if you weren't up and active, and even then you'd end up in an uncomfortable, cold sweat. The effects of space, they presumed.

Leonardo didn't realize that his asthma was acting up again until he was wheezing, pausing his katas to figure out what was happening.

Oh heck no.

He thought it was over!

He thought he outgrew his asthma, he wouldn't have to deal with it again!

Leonardo growled quietly, sheathing his katanas and going to Donatello. They always had a good quick-relief on hand, just in case, he had just hoped that they would never need to use it again.

"Don," he whispered to get his brother to look at him, then came closer, “Don, it’s back.”

Donatello tilted his head, confused. “What?”

“My asthma is acting up again. I was just training and it suddenly flared up.”

The genius’ eyes widened in concern as he reached over for the medicine Leonardo was all too familiar with and handed it over to him. Taking a quick puff, Leonardo sighed. The relief, the first time he had done that, was like a miracle, but now it was nothing more than some fast working medication, used to the feeling that followed.

A little while later, the symptoms passed, leaving the two in uncomfortable silence.

“Well,” Donatello started, sounding unsure.

“Well,” Leonardo repeated.

“I guess this means it’s back. Be careful, would you? We don’t want to have a severe attack.”

%%%

Leonardo stared at the ceiling, laying in bed, awake.

A familiar wheeze filled the room, making no space for silence.

He groaned softly, sitting up. There would be no sleep that night, he could already tell. Looking over to the inhaler that Donatello had given him, he considered using it, then shook his head. It wasn’t too bad, he could do without it.

Instead of staying in his room, he decided to move to the common area. Maybe he could wait it out? Leonardo grabbed his inhaler and moved slowly, not wanting to aggravate it too much.

The wheezing got worse.

It was getting increasingly difficult to breathe by the minute, and breaking down into coughing didn't make it any better.

He grit his teeth and took a short breath of the medication, leaning back against the wall and sliding down.

Seconds ticked by, then minutes.

The quick-relief wasn't working, why wasn’t the quick-relief working?

Leonardo tried to steady himself before the panic grew unmanageable. Worrying would only make it worse, he needed to stay calm.

...Too late, apparently.

His heart trimmed nervously against his ribcage, trying to free itself from his prison. It was getting worse. He needed Donatello soon.

Leonardo fumbled for his shell-phone, he always had it with his brothers on speed dial. A low, quiet ring started up, waiting for Donatello to pick up. He tapped the phone case, waiting, waiting-

"Hello?"

"Don," Leonardo gasped, "It's happening again. The quick-relief didn't work."

Donatello's breathing hitched. "Where are you?"

"Hallway between the common room and my room."

"Alright, I'll be right there."

Donatello hung up almost immediately, and a few moments later, he was in front of Leonardo, holding a pill bottle and a glass that was mostly filled with crushed ice, and just enough water to take one or two pills.

"Do you feel alright enough to drink without choking?"

Leonardo nodded stiffly, and took the pill and water handed to him, sipping carefully so he wouldn't end up accidentally drowning himself.

A little later, breathing got easier, and Leonardo reveled in it, taking deep breaths and sighing softly. He sucked on some of the ice while waiting to see if Donatello would initiate the conversation. When the other remained silent, he swallowed, paused, and finally asked.

"Why did this happen?" he asked softly and traced shapes into the condensation on the side of the glass, "Why is it back?"

"Well…" Donatello began and faltered, then shook his head, "I'm not sure. Sometimes asthma can be triggered by extreme stress, and there's been plenty of that around lately. Also, cold, dry air helps in triggering attacks as well. It may just be the environment and current mood.

"...So, I guess we're back on asthma watch?"

"Mhm."

"Shoot."

Whumptober: Touch And Go (2/5)

A/N: I’m going to preface this with the fact that I’m probably representing touch starvation very wrong

_______________________________________________________________

Leonardo let his hand slide down from the wall, backing up slowly. “Just get out and don’t wait up, alright?”

They better leave, if they didn’t he’d-

He didn’t know what he’d do, because the soldiers were coming and he needed to go. He hoped they left already. They didn’t say anything, so either they were thinking, or they were gone, and it better had been the latter.

Taking a deep breath to soothe his fraying nerves, he turned to fight, charging the next round of guards before suddenly ducking to the left and using somebody as a stepping stone to get higher up. Leo grabbed the support beams, heaved himself up and kept running, hopping along because he knew that if he fell, that would be the end.

He really did know another way out, but it would take some effort to get there, and he had to get the guards off his tail first so that they wouldn’t follow him back to the lair.

For a minute, he paused, bringing his katanas down in deadly slashes to take some of the enemies down and ward off a few more, before turning back and running again, preferring to preserve his energy for the time.

At the end of the hall, he could see his way out, and they were still following him. He needed them off his tail, fast. Turning to face them again, Leo bounced backward to brace for a hit. If he let them follow him, he'd lead them straight to their home, straight to his brothers and then it would be all for naught.

He was getting tired, he realized. Getting tired wasn't good, not now. His breaths came in short, ragged puffs, and he was taking more and more hits by the second. Soon, he would only be running on slivers of adrenaline. Once those ran out?

Leo bit the side of his tongue at the thought of the grim outcome.

He had to turn to run again, before something happened. There were significantly more injuries than before, and that was definitely his sign he needed an out.

There, there was his exit. But there were still several guards following close behind. A sharp right should throw them off, draw them away, he could get back to it later.

And, he should have bought his family enough time, right? They had to have gotten away.

Something cut through the air, a loud sound like the phaser guns on Space Heroes followed by a whizz that ended by his ear, and there was a BURN in his shoulder. Beside him, the injury almost sizzled and smoked, and blood immediately slicked his entire shoulder and upper arm.

Against all logic, it startled him into stillness, gripping his shoulder tightly to try and stop the blood flow. He hadn't ever seen injuries like that before, so it was startling to say the least (besides that one time. They didn't talk about that one time).

Suddenly, somebody crashed into him, and he went down hard.

Then, his hands were behind his back, there were multiple people holding him, and he kicked and tried to roll.

But there were multiple guards and one of him. His wrists were tied despite his struggles, and he was stripped of his weapons right before he was roughly pulled up.

If they weren't sworn enemies, he would have almost been offended that he wasn't even given the chance to try to walk. Instead, they dragged him halfway across the building, taken lower and lower, past the core, even further down. He didn’t even know that there were lower levels, but they just kept going down until they were so far from the surface he feared he could have been smothered.

Which, was a legitimate worry at that point.

Instead of smothering him, they brought him further back once they seemed to have hit the lowest level, to the very back corner of the maze of hallways, and locked him into a room. They just. Left him.

It was well lit, but completely empty, and once the door was shut he wouldn’t have been able to tell that it was ever there at all.

His hands were bound, and he had virtually nothing at the moment, but he still began to plan.

%%%

Step, step, step, step, step, turn.

Step, step, step, step, step, turn.

Repeat again, over and over.

While it could have been worse, they had actually forgotten about him in that back corner. It was honestly funny to him. Just going to leave him in a corner, huh? He assumed that they were waiting for him to die, either by his own body or from time, whichever happened to hit him first.

Leo would have thought it was a little funny, if the hunger weren’t tearing him apart from the inside out. It felt like a stupid worry to him. There were so many worse things to think about, but he still managed to be worried about food of all things?

How about, instead, he worried about how long he had been there? There wasn’t really a way to tell time, there was just a haze between waking and sleeping.

He was vaguely confused about the whole situation, though. They had him captured, wouldn’t they have wanted something from him?

Or was he just bait, they usually wanted all of them at once, they couldn’t take them out one at a time, for some reason.

Leo continued to pace, back and forth, back and forth, back and forth, until the door slid open, and a guard walked in. He waited calmly, patiently, for them to have completely entered the room, before jumping them. Yes, he was aware that his hands were bound, but he knew that those were metal binds. He could use them as a weapon with enough agility.

The guard grabbed him and shoved him down, using the binds to shake him before grabbing his upper arm.

Leo froze, startled by the sudden touch, the lightning flowing along from the grip followed by a deep want for the touch. He wasn’t sure how to feel. Afraid? Disappointed? Angry? Against his will, he let out a short mix between a cry and a whine. He didn’t like it, the touch was bad, the sound he made because of it was worse, but he wanted the touch, he hadn’t seen anyone or anything outside the room, but the touch wasn’t even human, nor anything positive-

He was spiraling again, he had been doing that too much recently, because the guard was using that to their advantage to drag him up and out.

Just because he wasn’t fully functioning did not mean that he still wasn’t against getting moved around to some second location. He kicked and struggled, pulling away in some kind of desperation and actually managing to get some good hits in on the way.

But there were guards, they grabbed his shoulders, pushing at the injury to keep him still. Slowly but surely, they forced him along, up and outside. He squinted in the bright light- They were risking moving him in the day? What in the world were they-

A short grunt escaped him as he landed in a truck. Before he could try to get back out, or say something, or really do anything, the doors had closed, cutting the light off, and the engine was turning on. Fantastic, he really was getting moved to a second location.

Whumptober: My Spidey-Sense Is Tingling

A/N: !!!TW FOR THIS CHAPTER: Medication/Drug use and accidental overdosing!!! Also, today’s chapter was inspired by Careful by tiredRobin, check it out! https://archiveofourown.org/works/26849536

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In the lab, Donatello was hard at work.

Over the past couple of weeks, none of them had been sleeping right. Either it was nightmares or just downright fear, but they could never get a full night’s rest from terrorized dreams. Medications didn’t always work for them, not being entirely human, so he was working on something for that. He hoped that when he was finished, he would have something that would finally bury nightmares and cause dreamless sleep.

Of course, he was trying not to keep his hopes up. After all, it may end in failure.

But over the past week, he had been working so hard, it had to work. He had been messing with the dosages of ingredients for a while, and finally found something he thought would work.

Just in time, it was ready. A full bottle of the pills he hoped would work. Was it excessive to make a whole bottle, knowing full well that they might not even be the right dosage? Maybe, but, it wouldn’t hurt to have it on hand, right?

He set the bottle down before going to clean off his desk, just in case they worked a little too well. He wasn’t stupid, he didn’t plan on taking experimental medication with sharp or hard items nearby that could risk injury. On top of that, it was late and he was tired. 

Donatello paused before taking the pill, then moved to his room. It was safer there, anyway. And softer. And easier to sleep in, at that.

After his short trek to his bedroom, he sat on the bed, opened up a water bottle, took the pill, then got comfortable and waited.

Really, it should have been more alarming how fast he fell asleep.

%%%

Donatello blinked a few times, swallowing. His head was swimming, why did he feel so sick?

His body screamed that it was wrong, something was wrong and it was bad. Bad, bad bad bad bad-

There was light coming from underneath the shoji, but- He could barely see it, everything was blurry and the colors and lights were muted in the haze. Why did he feel like this? Why did his head hurt? He felt sick, so he should stop moving. Right, not moving, resting, that was good when one was sick.

Could he even move in the first place? He didn't feel like he could, he felt frozen to the spot. He felt scared. Why couldn't he think? He was fairly certain he had been fine before, what was-

Oh, was that his name? It sounded like his name. Who was calling him though? He didn't recognize the voice. He felt sick. Maybe he should stay laying there.

...His breathing shouldn't be that slow, he realized. His chest moved up and down sluggishly, taking in air far too slow to be normal. He needed help, he needed help, maybe that was why he was sick. 

Sitting up was a struggle all on it's own, but trying to stand was worse. Donatello's legs buckled out from underneath him, his body refusing to keep him even sitting up, and all he could do was gasp, completely and utterly helpless.

The panic was cutting through the fog, his struggles growing by the second but only taking his breath away. He didn't know how long it had been since this started, didn't know how long he had left at this rate, why was this-

The medication. He took that before bed, but it should've helped, what happened to make him like this? What had-

You put too much, said the little voice in his head, before unhelpfully supplying: It's an overdose.

If it was an overdose, he would die without assistance. His own work would kill him, he'd be found dead in-

Somebody called his name, sounding concerned and growing closer. Hadn't they called earlier? There might still be hope for him.

But breathing was hard, leaving him gasping like a fish out of water, he could barely see anything, and he couldn't even move, he was helpless, he was helpless-

The murk got brighter, as if the door was ripped open to allow more light in. Somebody swore rather loudly, followed by a gasp, and his world kept flashing in and out of darkness before he realized that there was the same person who swore beside him, giving out orders. When did they get there?

They sighed and said something he couldn't hear before sitting him up and leaning him against them. Something was pushed against his lips and poured into his mouth as his head was tipped back, and, by reflex, he swallowed, flinching at its bitter taste and the fact that it just kept coming. When it was done, his head got pushed back forward, a bucket pushed under his beak, why-?

Before he knew what was going on, he was throwing up, heaving and coughing, unable to breathe for a long moment before he finished.

The person beside him rubbed his shell, waiting until he was finished to move it away, tilt his head back again, and poured something else into his mouth. He was sure it was water, but it still tasted a little odd to him.

Slowly, his sight and sense returned to him, but not without a splitting headache and-

His whole family was in his room.

Leonardo was the one holding him, Michelangelo taking dishes and the bucket out of the room and Raphael sitting on his bed, looking the pill bottle over as if it held all the answers to every question in the world.

Donatello blinked a few times as he realized what had happened. Shoot.

"Oh-" he began, speaking softly, "Oh, I'm so sorry, this was-"

Leonardo nudged him to be quiet and started talking, voice low to avoid hurting Donatello's ears, but definitely concerned. There was no way he hadn't seen the bottle.

"What were you thinking, Don? You could've died. If we had been any later, you probably would’ve!"

Donatello's cheeks burned with shame as he lowered his head, going to explain.

"I'm so sorry, really- I was just testing a sleep medication for us, I must have messed up the dosages-"

"'Must have'? You overdosed, Donnie. You got really sick, so sick we had to pull out the ipecac. Why in the world did you think it was a good idea to test it on yourself?"

"I- I just couldn't think of anything else, and I thought it would be alright. I- Sorry…"

Leonardo heaved a sigh. Not one of his exasperated sighs, though. It was his worried "I'm-Going-To-Have-A-Heart-Attack-At-This-Rate" sighs.

"Just-" Leonardo said after a long moment of consideration, "Just don't try it again, okay? You really scared us, and I'm sure you can find some other way to test it without risking death. Just head to bed for now, without the help of some pills."