Whumptober: Coughing Up A Lung

Whumptober: Coughing Up A Lung

Leonardo, out of all of them, was always known to have the worst anxiety

Of course it was there, as the oldest and their leader in the middle of a war. Issues that followed anxiety popped up here and there, but it wasn’t anything they couldn’t deal with. Sometimes, though, those issues were more difficult to deal with than usual.

%%%

Several incidents over the past week, and Leonardo wanted to scream.

It was a good thing he didn't have hair, because he would've pulled it all out by then. Seriously, was there something wrong with the month? It was just one incident with him and his brothers after the other, every October. Really, it was a wonder that they weren't all superstitious at that point.

Maybe some sleep would help him. He was feeling off, anyway, he could use some rest.

%%%

It started with breathing issues, towards the beginning of the day.

Nothing to bother Donatello about, but still a shortness of breath, a little more trouble with training, some lack of stamina, but nothing too serious. Towards noon, he started having chest pain. While it was inconvenient, it wasn’t unheard of. Leonardo ended up deciding to meditate to help himself calm down.

By evening, before patrol, the chest pain worsened. Deep breaths hurt, and coughing only made it worse. There was a slight wheeze when he breathed, it felt like something was in his lungs, and it didn’t take long to realize that, maybe, he was sick. With what though? He made sure to be extra careful with his health, because they couldn’t take one of them falling sick at the moment. The temperatures were lowering, but they had been bundling up to avoid getting cold enough for sickness. He was sure he was fine.

And what would they think if he tapped out a couple minutes before patrol over something that probably wasn’t even that serious? It wasn’t like they hadn’t performed with worse illnesses or injuries. Standing and brushing himself off, he decided to ignore it for the time being, and ask about it tomorrow.

Leonardo put a hand on one of his knees and stood up before heading to the turnstiles, pleased to find that Donatello was already there and waiting, doing something on his phone. The two waited in comfortable silence, and if Donatello noticed the slight wheeze, he said nothing about it.

A little while later Raphael joined them, and Michelangelo followed shortly after, almost late.

When they were all prepared, they took off. The walk was mostly uneventful, besides Michelangelo messing with Raphael and ending up invoking the hothead's wrath, requiring some interference to keep him from antagonizing Raphael with his youngest privileges.

They were on the roof almost immediately after getting outside, and continued on with their normal patrol route, sticking to routine.

He was still struggling not to heave for air, Leo realized with a frown. Already, he was tired and out of breath. Maybe he should've stayed back after all.

"Hey, Leo," Raphael nudged him and crouched, everyone else following suit. "Look there, some shady Kraang deal."

Leonardo glanced over and, sure enough, a group of Kraang were loading up a truck. Was that mutagen? ...Of course it was, it was Kraang, what was he thinking? He signaled to his brothers, and slowly, they crept along to surround the truck from above.

One, two, three.. NOW! he signaled, jumping down as soon as the countdown was over and landing on the top of one of the droids.

The pain in his chest sharpened as he landed, spreading into his shoulders and back. His already ragged breathing hitched, and for a moment, his mind fogged in panic. He couldn't have stayed home, though. If he stayed, his brothers would have stayed, and they would've missed this. Leonardo steeled himself in his resolve and struck harder at the enemies, clearing them out fast and efficiently.

Ragged breathing turned into desperate gasps, the pain growing unbearable, lungs fighting for air. Fighting was getting hard, fatigue pulling at his limbs, screaming for him to stop, he should have been moving faster but he wasn't-

A boot slammed into his bad knee and splintering pain shot through his whole leg from it, causing him to bite his tongue to keep from crying out. He dropped down on one knee, gripping it tightly, what was he doing, he needed to get up!

And he was still gasping, wheezing, unable to get the air into his lungs.

There was a gun to his head, and distantly, he heard his brothers scream. He was worrying them, he needed to get up-

Gritting his teeth and tightening the grip he still had on one of his katanas, Leonardo lunged forward and stabbed the Kraang droid in the abdomen, uncaring about the magenta spray that followed, and finished the battle alongside his family.

But of course, Donatello was immediately trying to smother him, looking him over and trying to figure out what was wrong. Behind him, Michelangelo tried to stay out of the way, and Raphael twirled his sai, tense and angry.

"Leo!" Donatello started, "What in the name of science-"

"Can this wait until we're home, Donnie?" Leonardo interrupted, "We need to get rid of this stuff, then we can talk."

Donatello opened his mouth to argue, but a glare and gentle shake forced him to leave it alone, even though he was against Leonardo carrying some of the mutagen and definitely against waiting to ask some medical questions.

Leonardo's breathing evened out a little on the way home, but not by much. There was still a wheeze, something louder and more audible than before.

He hated it, he decided. The entire day sucked.

"You good?" Raphael questioned, looking him over with almost the same expression as Donatello.

"Maybe we should stop," Donatello quickly jumped on the opportunity and slowed down some.

"No," Leonardo started, then realized it was more forceful than he wanted it to be. "No. I'll be fine, just keep moving for now."

There were a few looks of concern, but the matter was dropped until they were home. There, the mutagen dropped off in Donatello's lab, and the eldest was pushed to a spot where he could sit and have Donatello look him over.

A stethoscope was pushed against his plastron, and when the genius told him to take deep breaths in, Leonardo didn't question him, even though he felt the ache throughout his torso afterwards.

"How long has this been going on?"

The question wasn't unexpected, yet it still managed to startle Leonardo. "Since this morning."

"This morning?" Donatello nearly shrieked, pulling away.

"What's up?" Raphael asked, popping into the lab only a few seconds after being forced to leave.

"I think one of his lungs collapsed, and it has been collapsed since this morning."

"I'm sorry, what?!"

"It can happen randomly, and there are a few causes. Leo, have you maybe been more stressed than usual?" Donatello turned to the oldest.

"Yeah?"

"Okay, because stress can cause it, so that’s probably why."

"Is it bad?" Raphael pushed for an answer, coming closer.

"Only if left alone, there’s something I can do, it's called Needle Aspiration-"

"Okay." At that point, Leonardo couldn't care less about what happened.

"What?"

"I said okay. I think it'll be alright."

"...Oh."

Donatello blinked a few times, as though he was expecting more of a fight. He moved around busily, injecting something into one of his sides after wiping it down to clean it. Shortly after, Leonardo was numbed, and didn't feel the needle when it was pushed into his side. The relief that followed was certainly something, though.

It was over fairly quickly, a bandage placed over the area where the needle had been.

"How long is it going to take to heal?" Leonardo asked, kicking his legs.

"Only about a week or two," Donatello responded automatically, "That's at most. No training or patrols until then though, and I don't want to hear a word about it from you."

Leonardo hummed, understanding why, but knowing that he would definitely become frustrated with that restraint in only two or three days.

"In the meantime…" Michelangelo began in a drawl.

"Oh no." The other three groaned, even though none of them meant it.

"It's movie time! If he needs the rest then a long marathon will work, right?" The youngest bounced backwards, out to the living room, and the rest followed, making Leonardo move slower as he was still numb. It wasn't that they were really against a movie marathon, anyway, since they hadn't gotten together to do it in quite some time.

The four settled on the couch, snuggled up  close as Michelangelo set up the first movie of multiple. Raphael gave Leonardo's hand a light squeeze, reassuring himself that his big brother was still there, before leaning back and relaxing further.

The sound of movies faded deep into the night, accompanied by the soft sounds of snores from two or three brothers.

Whumptober: I’m Better Off All By Myself (5/5)

A/N: Title from Toxic by BoyWithUke

~~~

Whatever Donatello was expecting, it was not for Leonardo to suddenly collapse like that. By some miracle, he caught the oldest, and noticed a few things. The first was a wound on his shoulder, just a small incision made recently. The second was the sheer amount of scars that littered his brother’s skin, looking more like a canvas drawn on with pastels by a toddler than something blank. The third was how light he was. For giant mutant turtles, they were really heavy, as long as they had been maintaining their health. However, he was worryingly easy to hold after he was caught, even while unconscious.

Raphael reached over on instinct, a little late, but there nonetheless.

"Wait what-"

"What's wrong, Doctor Donnie?" Michelangelo whined.

Donatello fixed his grip on Leonardo to pull him closer. "I've got a few ideas, but let's just get him in the lab for now. Set up a cot."

He shifted Leonardo to rest against his side and Raphael and Michelangelo disappeared. Donatello was assuming that it had to be some kind of exhaustion, definitely severe, but he'd have to be sure.

After laying the oldest down, Donatello stepped away to grab his tools, then returned, giving him a thorough once over. Dear God, what had he been doing in his time away?

"Well," he finally concluded, "I'm sure that he collapsed from severe exhaustion. There are multiple injuries from various sources all across his body, and residue of metal in his shoulder. There's also red marks on his wrists, most likely from restraints. He's been working under severe malnutrition, probably for some time."

Raphael took a sharp breath, Michelangelo's breathing hitched.

Oh well, they had to find out one way or another.

%%%

Leonardo blinked a few times upon waking, trying to gain his bearings. He was laying on a cot, he noticed first. And he was in a lab. Now, was the lab good or bad, and why was he-

"LEO!" Michelangelo launched himself onto Leonardo, wrapping him in a tight hug.

Donatello and Raphael followed shortly after, Raphael taking his hand and holding it tight, Donatello crouching beside him.

"Now, Leo," Donatello started. Oh dear. "I'd love to stay and celebrate, but WHAT THE ACTUAL F-"

Leonardo frowned and elbowed him hard before wrapping his arms around Michelangelo and sitting up.

"What happened? You literally collapsed in front of us!"

He flinched. They were really asking? Already?

Instead of saying something that would probably be more healthy, he smiled and said:

"Donnie, I just got back. Can't we wait?"

All eyes turned to Donatello, some neutral, some pleading, and the doctor huffed, clearly unhappy with this arrangement.

"Fine."

%%%

Leonardo, after he had gotten Donatello to stop asking questions, had been dragged to watch a movie with them for "quality bonding".

Actually, this scene kind of reminded him of-

Walking and walking, all across America. No way to get directions, unable to find home. He wanted to call home, but his phone was probably getting tracked, and he couldn't risk letting them find his home.

Maybe if he got the microchip out and his vitals band off, but he couldn't, not easily.

Back and forth, running and getting attacked, getting found over and over again because they were tracking him.

He had to get that bracelet off. If he could get the bracelet and microchip out and off, he'd be completely off the grid, they'd never find him again.

Leonardo grabbed a brick and slammed it down, over and over. He didn't care when he hit his own skin and busted open flesh, bruising and bleeding. He just needed it OFF. The band continued to wear down until it broke off, it's more delicate bits shattered to pieces. One down, one to go.

He was breathing heavily when he snatched up one of the broken shards, cutting open his shoulder and digging around to find it. His fingers bumped the little metal chip and he latched on, ripping it out, using the very same brick to smash it to pieces.

He was finally-!

Metal scraped against concrete.

They found him again.

"Hey Leo, you’re looking kinda distant, you good?" It was just Michelangelo. He was back.

"Mhm, I’m just gonna go to the bathroom."

Leonardo untangled himself from the pile they had made, excusing himself to the bathroom. After locking the door, he fell back against the tub and let out a short breath. The cold felt nice against hot skin. It helped soothe him.

He felt sick.

There was a roof over his head, he had his family, he was safe, and yet he was still scared. He was worrying them, like an idiot.

Somebody was knocking on the door.

"Hey, Leo? You okay? I'd uh- I'd also like to use the bathroom."

It was just Michelangelo. Nobody else.

Leonardo hurried to his feet, unlocked the door, and threw it open.

"Sorry, sorry. Didn't mean to take so long."

%%%

Leonardo skidded in a sharp turn, nearly falling onto his side in the rain. He liked the feeling of the icy rain pelting down on him. It made him calm, it made him feel clean. He liked the cold, but he didn't like-

Thunder, rain washing blood-stained scales. A voice came over comms, startling him out of his thoughts. It was too loud.

"You have your target?"

"Of course."

He always had his target, like it or not. Leonardo released a low breath before slipping into the building. It was one more person, one more civilian. He didn’t know them and he honestly didn’t care to know them. But that didn’t mean that he didn’t see the fear in their eyes before death, the strangled scream that never got to escape, because they were already dead, harsh breathing coming to a stop from an untimely death.

His morals had been lost a long time ago, this only put up walls to prevent them from returning.

It didn’t matter though. He’d do anything as long as they didn’t go looking for his family to hold them at gunpoint and threaten him, or, worse, kill them.

Lightning lit up the sky, revealing silhouettes that waited for him to give them the all clear. He hated this job, hated being a hitman, it went against everything he had believed. But if he needed to, he would train his hands to never let go of the hilt of a sword, always have a weapon or something dangerous on him, prepared to kill anyone at a signal. If he needed to, he would only know blood and death, fear before a killing blow, and darkened skies.

He wasn’t standing in front of a body, covered in blood. He was standing in front of the turnstiles, soaked and too afraid to come in to get a towel because he didn’t want to leave puddles on the floor.

Pathetic.

Raphael paused, letting up the heat on the training dummy for a bit to come and greet him with a towel in hand.

“Where were you?” He rumbled, “We thought you ran off on us so soon after coming back.”

Hardened emerald green eyes, softening with guilt and fear as they were taken away. Wondering, desperate as they looked to the bound hands of their older brother.

Leonardo took the towel. It was soft and warm, like it had just come out of the dryer.

“Sorry, I just wanted to get out, and then it started raining.”

Raphael nodded like he understood. He probably did. Leonardo had seen the hot head leave to blow off steam enough times to know that he definitely did.

Once dry, Leonardo quietly thanked Raphael, took the towel right back to the washing machine, and left to go practice a couple of katas.

The dojo was, thankfully, nothing like-

An eerily silent dojo with a wooden floor that hurt to fall on, so he tried not to. Still, that was hard when he was fighting too many enemies. They wanted him to be able to fight a group, but they had already injured him beforehand and his blood stained the wood red. It was a test, and he was failing.

Somebody knocked him onto his plastron, and suddenly they were all upon him, pinning him down, hands on the edge of his shell to keep good control of him.

Then, by some silent command, they were called off. He was released and exposed to a different kind of pain. Electricity coursed through him from both the chip and his bracelet, hot and agonizing. Leonardo could only whine, too used to this treatment-

Leonardo was not laying on a wooden floor. He was crouched on a tatami mat, silent tears running down his face while somebody rubbed soothing circles on his shell, hushing him.

They… Didn’t ask about why he was crying or what was wrong. They just soothed him and respected his boundaries.

He didn’t think he had ever been more grateful for his family.

Whumptober: They Made Me Do It

Leonardo watched Michelangelo run round and round the table, getting chased by the wasp. He timed their passes and got ready to jump, just in case he needed to intervene.

"He's really turned running away screaming into an art form," Raphael quipped, and Leonardo couldn't hide a little amused smile.

"Well, at least he's good at something, right?" Donatello commented. Michelangelo, almost immediately after, tripped, and Donatello followed up with: "Good-ish."

The wasp came crashing down after the youngest, and the older three took that as their cue, hopping out of their hiding spot and towards the giant insect.

But, of course, Michelangelo just had to disobey orders, and struck out with his nunchucks, taking both the wasp, and the others, down in the process before getting dragged around in the wasps panic. Donatello and Raphael were thrown against the wall, leaving only Leonardo standing.

Well, per usual, it was up to Leonardo to do something about it. Pushing back his twinge of annoyance, he drew his katanas, ready to end that thing then and there.

The wasp went at him, much faster than he anticipated, and promptly jabbed its stinger into his arm. His vision went dark as pain erupted in his right arm. The next time he could see again, the wasp was dead on the floor and his brothers were discussing why it died.

"...The wasp died because it lost its stinger." Donatello concluded, giving the dead wasp an experimental poke.

Leonardo couldn't swallow his indignance and blurted out: "Yeah, in me! Thanks a lot, Mikey!" That wasn't like him. He didn't usually yell like that. He wasn't too snappy.

...Usually.

"Heh, sorry dude." Michelangelo laughed awkwardly and rubbed the back of his neck.

"Let me see that," Donatello said, grabbing the stinger and pulling it out harshly. Leonardo let out a short sound of pain and rubbed the swollen spot on his arm. Ow. "Are you okay?" The purple banded turtle asked.

"Pretty sure, but I think I'll think I'll be…" he trailed off with a twitch. Something was pulling him to the far corner of the room. Something was… He needed to find something. "...fine."

Donatello's eyes widened in astonishment as he looked the stinger over. "Mutations are generally anthropomorphic. I've never seen mutagen create giants like this before!"

"Yeah, real fascinating, Donnie." Raphael elbowed him, beak wrinkled and his voice dripping with sarcasm.

The pull intensified to the point it was almost painful, and Leonardo was compelled to follow it. He turned and wandered off to a seemingly inconspicuous pile of newspapers. Pulling them away revealed a large yellowish oval. An egg, he realized.

That egg was important.

He needed to protect that egg.

"Woah, look!" He said instead of keeping it to himself.

"It's some kind of... egg," Donatello said as he approached.

No duh, he snarked silently.

"Stand back. I'll handle this," Michelangelo said confidently, grabbing his nunchucks.

"I'm betting on the egg," Raphael huffed with a smirk.

A surge of protectiveness ran through Leonardo. It wasn't supposed to be there. The egg wasn't anything more than a danger. Still, he yelled, "Wait!" He didn't want to say the rest, he didn't want to say any of it, but it was like he was possessed. "We're not hurting it. We came here to find out what the Kraang are up to, and this egg is our only clue. We should take it back to the lab and let Donnie analyze it."

"Great idea!" Raphael snapped, "Let's take the mutant wasp egg into our home where we live! What's the worst that can happen?"

"It's not safe leaving us around. It'll be fine, I'll just keep an eye on it."

"I'll get it," Michelangelo interfered, reaching down.

No! He'll drop it! This will all be for naught. Well that voice was new.

"Hands off!" Leonardo shouted and pushed himself between the egg and Michelangelo, causing him to yelp and the rest to look over at him.

"Dude, are you alright?" Raphael asked, looking him over, "Because unmotivated bursts of anger are kind of my thing."

"It's just that the egg could be fragile," Leonardo reasoned as he picked up the egg, scrambling to not set off any alarms, "Mikey cannot be trusted with it. I'm carrying it myself."

"I'm beginning to think that he likes that egg more than me," Michelangelo whined, looking over at him longingly. As if he didn't spend as much time as he did with the youngest.

"Well, the egg talks less than you, so there's that," Raphael laughed.

Leonardo stared at the egg the whole way to the Shellraiser. What was going on? He didn't yell like that and he certainly didn't want this thing home. Why was he so protective over it?

%%%

Leonardo tapped his knee rapidly, shaking his head like it would fix something. He wanted to go somewhere else, do other things, get rid of this godforsaken egg, but something rooted him to the place. It hurt to move away, hurt to do anything other than watch over it.

It might be worth it, his mind supplied, This might prove fruitful.

His mind was probably right. Trusting his conscience usually worked out for him.

Find other hosts, it immediately tried to order, Others who will protect. Feed. Watch.

His head hurt, and he raised a hand to grab it, trying to alleviate the pain. The voice grew louder.

Attack, fight, protect! Protect spawn, next generation! Gather food, gather hosts!

No! No, he needed to stay right where he was. He wasn't going to fight when it wasn't necessary.

The egg needed protection.

It needed him.

It needed food.

Leonardo shook his head again. Maybe he would just… Sit for a bit. And try to get his thoughts together before he tore himself apart.

%%%

Michelangelo eventually came sauntering over, getting far too close for his liking. It set off multiple mental alarms, and Leonardo whirled to face him.

Get him away! Protect! PROTECT!

"Back away!" He screamed, and Michelangelo scrambled backwards. "Touch it and I'll kill you! Go!"

Leonardo froze. That wasn't him talking. He'd never say that to any of his family. What came over him? Why did he say that? He didn't mean it? Why couldn’t he move away?

Michelangelo ran.

%%%

Donatello came to him next.

"Leo?" He began, tentatively, as if he was afraid that Leonardo might lash out at him as well, "We're, um, we're worried about you-"

"Go. Now," Leonardo hissed at him.

Something was wrong. He needed to go before he hurt somebody or worse, killed them.

ATTACK! MORE HOSTS FOR THE SPAWN!

That dang voice again. It was still getting louder, sharpening the pain from his headache until it was like an ice pick stuck in his skull.

Donatello the hint and turned, speed walking back into his lab where Leonardo assumed they were all hiding out. Because he was scaring them.

The egg would not let him move away from it, however, that didn't mean he couldn't take it with him.

Leonardo wrapped his arms around the egg and stood, still careful with its fragile shell. He took it and ran far, far away.

He didn't really have a plan for where he was going, he was just running. Anywhere would work.

No! Whatever that voice was screamed, Go back! Turn them! Create food sources for the next generation!

Leonardo grit his teeth and stopped running. If he wanted to do anything, he needed to stop hearing that voice. Then, he would stop feeling that resistance on his limbs, and he could move a little more freely.

He slammed his head against the wall and screamed as loud as he could, drowning out the shouts about "hosts" and "spawn" and "food". He slammed his skull against the brick wall until blood trickled down his temple and slicked a part of the wall. At least the voice had quieted to something more manageable, even if his head hurt worse. If he could think for ten seconds, he could plan a way out of this mess he’d gotten himself into. All he needed was some kind of plan on how to get rid of the egg, then he’d be fine, right? The voice should go away, after all, it only started when he had the egg.

“LEO!”

Shoot, they were coming after him. Leonardo crumpled to the floor, curled up around the egg and leaned against the wall. If he left, it was only to protect them. Why would they go after him when he was dangerous?! As he silently cursed their names, he raised a hand to his head. The voice was back, louder than before now that his family was near.

TURN THEM! GATHER GUARDIANS FOR EGG!

Leonardo screamed again, this time out of the splitting agony in his head like it was getting cracked open.

Then, the pain was gone, and his body was moving without his command. Panic shot through him, followed by a surge of adrenaline. He wished it wouldn’t, but his body moved forward anyway, one sword drawn with intent to hurt or, god forbid it, kill.

He was sick to his stomach when the blood sprayed. Clawing at his own mind to try and free himself, Leonardo screamed silently as his body lunged forward and struck out at his brothers. Still, he could do nothing, and it drove him crazy.

Raphael got too close, and whatever was controlling him took a chance. Leonardo lunged forward and trapped the second oldest in combat by locking their weapons, just long enough to sink his teeth into his arm.

Yes! It has spread! More hosts for the next generation!

No! No, he had to- He had to keep trying to fight, or else he would hurt them badly.

Leonardo suddenly regained his control of his own body and scrambled backwards, dropping his katana. He needed to run before they went at him again, before they got hurt again.

So he did. He turned and ran as fast as he could. Only after he had achieved a distance that he thought was safe did he sit back down to try and gather his scrambled thoughts.

He bit Raphael.

He had spread that stupid voice to him as well.

Leonardo looked at the egg and set it down, then twisted to look at his remaining katana. Slowly, he drew the blade and shifted to sit on his knees.

He raised the sword high above his head, ready to bring it down upon that cursed egg. Just one strike, the membrane would split open, and the larva inside would die. Then he’d be free, and his family would be safe. It would only take one hit if he did it right.

No! Do not attack the spawn! It is almost time!

The katana fell to the floor with a loud clatter, and he went reeling backwards before curling up and whining. It hurt. It hurt to disobey. It hurt. Ithurtithurtithurtithurt-

The silence was shattered. The sound was quiet, near impossible to hear, but if he strained...

Click click click~

Leonardo glanced down at the sound, freezing when he saw an antenna dangerously close to the surface. They were already hatching? He thought he would have more time! It needed to die as soon as possible, but how?

An idea sparked in his mind. He knew what he had to do.

Grabbing the egg, he scrambled to his feet in search of a body of water deep enough to do what he needed to do.

A pool. He needed a pool. That would work perfectly for this. Against his plastron, the egg twitched and the larva inside pushed against the wall of the egg, yearning for freedom. He had to do it fast, because the offspring of the wasp would wait no longer.

He dropped to his knees and forced the egg under.

NO! THE OFFSPRING! PROTECT! PROTECT!!!

Leonardo screamed in agony, dropping far enough that his forehead almost touched the ground, his grip on the egg loosening just a bit.

A crack formed under his fingers, though, and he reset his hold on it as the offspring broke through. No, not one. There were two more behind it. It was only the first of three.

They, however, were not made for swimming, especially fresh out of their egg. Shortly after leaving their cocoon, the hatchlings drowned, sinking slowly in the water.

The screams in his head reached their peak before slowly fading after the wasp's children drowned. He scrambled backwards, reveling in the silence.

It was finally quiet. He was safe. His family was safe. The wasps were gone, (hopefully) to never be seen again.

Leonardo rested his face on his knees and let out a long breath.

He wanted a nap.

Whumptober: Feed A Cold, Starve A Fever

It was getting colder. As the autumn months ended and faded into winter, the chill had gotten worse, and they had been needing to bundle up as much as they safely could and cut back on their time on the surface to avoid accidentally falling into hibernation.

Still, Leonardo sometimes went out solo. Not for long, of course, he wasn’t stupid, just for brisk morning runs or to cool off after an argument. He made sure to put something warm on, he had told Donatello when he found out, who was very concerned about his winter outings.

Now, usually these went well. And sometimes they ended in him throwing himself at a gang harassing some poor person who was just trying to get home from a tiring nine to five job.

Sometimes, that ended in him getting shot in the leg and tied to a fence.

The oldest of the group cackled as Leonardo struggled with the bindings, mocking his situation. Every weapon he had was pushed against the opposite wall, out of his reach, so that he couldn’t cut through the ropes even if he tried. Not just that, anything that was previously warm was thrown into the ground, half soaked in blood and frozen. He could already feel chill, sending shivers down his spine. Shoot.

“Not so tough now, are you?” One of them taunted, having the audacity to saunter closer and rest a gloved hand on his face.

Leonardo smirked, then bit them, hard.

With a sharp cry, they ripped their hand away, rubbing it and swearing under their breath before turning to glare at him.

"Shoulda muzzled the stupid thing too…" They muttered darkly, then tilted their head away from Leo. "C'mon, let's get out of here. If it's still alive when we get back, we'll make sure that it learns its lesson."

They were coming back? His beak wrinkled as they left. He didn't plan on sticking around long enough for them to do anything to him. A chain link fence rattled behind him as he pulled against the wrist ropes. He couldn’t stay there long. The air was chilling more and more as nighttime approached, the dull oranges and midnight blues fading away into black. Leonardo knew what he was risking by staying out too long, they all did. Stupid turtle DNA.

His breath misted in the air in front of him, leaving a small cloud for a moment before it dissipated. That wasn’t a good sign, that was-

There was the first snow of the season, of the month.

Shoot.

He was already getting sluggish, the ice falling off of him as soon as he struggled and kicked. He was getting weak, he wouldn’t be able to make it home, not at this rate, and it was already dark-

There was a thin sheet of snow over him, occasionally disturbed by harsh shivers or sudden, jerky movements. When did that happen? How long had he been there, that it was beginning to gather like that? People’s Christmas lights had already gone up, towards the beginning of December, and were now reflecting on glistening snow, vibrant reds and greens. He knew Michelangelo would like the way it looked. He would have to take him down here when this whole mess was over.

Right, stuck, tied to a fence. He couldn’t risk letting himself be still for too long, who knew how long it would be before he slipped into hibernation. Leonardo tugged again at the ropes before they froze, leaning forward to try and snap them with his body weight, but only succeeded in putting himself in an uncomfortable situation.

Oh, he was really stuck. But he needed to get back to the others, before they started worrying, if they hadn’t already. There was a bullet in his leg anyway, more vibrant red staining the snow, leaving him trembling harder as any left over heat left his body. Struggles began to cease, sleep tugging at his mind and trying to pull his eyelids shut.

A voice in the back of his mind called for him to rest, to close his eyes and not wake up until Spring. Leonardo really wished that his instinct would shut up for two minutes and let him be aware of his situation so that he could figure a way out.

But nooo, nothing could be easy for him, could it?

He was still slipping, he was still losing the ability to think and remember. Remember that he needed to stay awake and get home, that he had been shot and he might not be able to keep going if he closed his eyes, that he was risking not waking up. He hadn’t been abandoned there, he hadn’t.

He hadn’t been abandoned, so maybe he could close his eyes for just a bit…

%%%

“What the- Don, he’s over here!”

“Oh my- Leo! Shoot, what were you thinking? You idiot!”

“Is he okay?”

“No, Mikey. From the looks of it, he’s fallen asleep, which means he might be hibernating right now, pretty much. He’s also really hot, so he’s definitely sick from the cold, considering how long he had to have been out here for this much snow to gather. It’s like a blanket! Not to mention the bullet wound in his leg.”

“That little- What was he thinking?”

“I don’t know Raph, but we need to get him home now, before he freezes. Grab his things. Mikey, you’ll help me get him down, I need to keep a close eye on him anyway.”

%%%

That idiot.

What was he thinking, heading out that early for a morning run? What if he had been left out in the open and somebody had seen him? They knew the risks of getting seen by a human. They would be taken, most likely experimented on, and then dissected to see what made them go “tick”. Medical experimentation was not always done… Ethically.

Still, despite his worries, his brother was there, laying on that couch in a basking spot with a blanket, alive (although much less than well) and safe, for the most part. As safe as they could get. All they needed to do was get him out of hibernation, then see about his sickness afterwards.

The heat might have been too much. He was already feverish from staying out in the cold for God knows how long, and his temperature was rising by the minute. Raphael wasn’t comfortable with leaving him there for long, considering how warm his older brother was getting.

Then, by some kind of miracle, he woke up. Leonardo started slow, blinking sleepily and looking around, dazed. He struggled with the blanket for a second, but managed to remove it without Raphael’s help. Still, Raphael watched him for a long minute, making sure that he didn’t need help with anything. Was that weird, to just watch him? He didn’t think it was, they did that plenty.

“Don, he’s awake,” Raphael called and scooched just a tad closer even as Leonardo coughed into his elbow. To heck with sickness, he didn’t care.

Closer, now, he could tell that the older of the two was shivering, even though he felt as though he were burning to the touch.

Fantastic, he really was sick.

Donatello came running, immediately looking Leonardo over and grabbing his cheeks in his hands, despite the quiet protests. After a long moment, he moved Leonardo out of the heated spot on the couch, into somewhere much cooler, and set the blanket beside him. Offering it, but not forcing it on him.

Leonardo trembled and coughed again. “How’d you find me, anyway?”

“There’s a tracker in your phone, Leo. There’s a tracker in everybody’s phone.”

“Oh.”

They left it at that, Donatello curling up next to Leonardo, before finally asking:

“What were you thinking? I’ve told you time and time again, we shouldn’t go up as much when it’s cold out!”

Leonardo sneezed, and said nothing, head dipped in shame. Donatello wrinkled his beak, preparing to further his talk, but decided not to at the last minute.

Raphael bit his tongue to keep back a laugh. Leonardo, of all people, getting lectured? He never thought he would live to see the day, but there he was.

%%%

Later that night, Donatello discharged Leonardo to his own room. Told him to call him if he needed anything at all, and that he planned on checking on the bullet wound in the morning.

Leonardo, being Leonardo, agreed.

%%%

“This is your fault, Leo!”

No, he- He thought he left those fears, long ago. He thought that after the mushrooms, it would be over!

“You failed us!”

He- He didn’t. He didn’t. He didn’t. Right? Right?

Still, Raphael stood above him, hollow eyes that would haunt anyone, a blade pushed between the cracks in Leonardo’s plastron. His bloody plastron, he noticed. They were definitely a gory sight, bleeding from almost everywhere, looking akin to zombies, and that was-

Not his blood.

Theirs.

Not his, theirs. Their blood, coating his scales, on his hands, everywhere, tinging the air copper. Something he never wanted to be around again.

And he wanted to cry. He wanted so badly to scream at them that he was trying his best, he couldn’t do everything, but he knew, he knew: They were right. It was his job to keep them safe, as their brother and leader.

So when Raphael pushed the sword into his torso, Leonardo did not cry or beg for mercy. He only screamed as the burning pain laced its way into his very being, tearing his atoms apart, hot coals in his body-

Leonardo had dreamed screaming, he woke up screaming, hand over his plastron, still feeling that agony, that splitting agony that coursed through him and-

The shoji slid open, his family raced in- He disappointed them, they were going to hurt him, they were going to kill him-

Leonardo rolled out of bed, dizzy as it made him, and grabbed his katana, screaming at them.

“Stay back!” he stumbled, fell back, and was distantly aware that he could have accidentally cut himself. That wasn’t important though, what was was staying alive.

“Hey, what the-” Raphael said- Leaning forward, a weapon in his hand, black eyes, disappointed, bloody. He was angry, Leonardo couldn’t stop seeing it-

“What’s wrong with him, Don?” Michelangelo said. He sounded afraid, afraid of Leonardo but Leonardo should have been afraid of them, as wrong as it felt.

“I- I think it’s a fever dream?” Donatello moved forward, reaching out to grab him.

No, they all moved forward, he was going to die, going to die in that tiny space and it was his fault, his fault, his fault-

He had a sword, to Mikey’s face, to the baby’s face, and still Michelangelo pleaded, voice soft from a bad attempt at soothing him. At his sides, Raphael and Donatello had circled around his sides to grab him, should the need arise, because he was about to hurt one of his own.

“Oh,” Leonardo whispered as he dropped the sword, the clatter of metal against concrete too loud in his ears, “Oh my God. I’m so sorry-”

They didn’t say anything at first. Good, he didn’t want or deserve the condolences, but then-

"You're alright now, Leo. It was just a dream, nothing more, you don’t have to apologize if you just put the sword down."

They still were worried for him, even after he tried to hurt them? What if he tried it again? What if the dreams came back? He would disappoint them, when they put so much faith in him-

Leonardo faintly remembers letting go of the other katana that he still had at his side. He’d grabbed both in his panic, just in case one got away from him. The world was spinning, now, and that’s not something the world was supposed to do.

“No, no, I was-” he paused to cough, a harsh, wracking cough that made his chest hurt and it felt like there was sandpaper in his lungs, “-I was going to hurt you, I’m sorry, I’m sorry-”

He cut off, not because of his own guilt. There was something amiss, the world was still spinning, and that wasn’t good, he should probably say something.

Raphael reached out.

Leonardo said something.

“Bucket-”

Thankfully, they realized rather quickly what he meant, and there was a bucket in front of him. Pretty much completely empty, he ended up dry heaving, coughing afterwards. It still hurt, in his chest, his plastron, his whole torso, actually. But at least now the room wasn’t tipping, even though they were all still looking at him like he was dying.

“Sorry…” He mumbled again, pushing it away and leaning back. The room felt suffocating with four people in it although there was barely anything to make it feel cluttered, so much open space that there shouldn’t have been any crowding at all.

“Mikey,” Donatello finally started, “Make him some tea. The peppermint stuff, we’re just gonna- Leave, for now-”

“NO!” The answer was sudden and Leonardo hated it, but he didn’t want to be alone, not just then. “No,” He corrected, “Please, don’t leave.” He thought he had escaped those fears a long time ago, but the truth was that they never left. They only faded over time, became less vivid so that when he woke up he never remembered them. Now, he was sick and most likely delirious. They were almost lucid. Almost.

Donatello shifted nervously. “Alright, the couch it is, I guess.”

Leonardo nodded and hopped onto his feet. Raphael grabbed his arm when he got unsteady, and the blue-banded turtle had to force himself not to pull away or start screaming. This was not one of his dreams. He was awake, they were all alive, he hadn’t disappointed anyone yet.

They moved slowly, allowing him to limp and favor his injured leg, so that shortly after getting to the couch, Michelangelo had popped out of the kitchen, holding a warm cup of tea. It was promptly shoved into Leonardo’s hands as the youngest wormed between the two oldest, snuggling between them. Each started doing their own thing, not entirely what to do or say after that event, but that was fine by Leonardo, as long as he had them there with him and knowing that they were safe and alive.

Whumptober: Field Care 101

The first time they had gone up to the surface, they had no clue what they were walking into. It had gone completely unnoticed that they had been stepping into a war, until they were almost killed by Shredder.

After that, all of them had thrown themselves into their training, learning both how to fight more efficiently while together or apart, and basic first-aid. Donatello still knew the most about medical things, but they, at the very least, knew how to handle themselves if they had injuries.

Donatello knew the most.

Which meant all of them were clueless when he got knocked down.

He went down hard, knocked over the side of a building, a few sickening thumps and cracks following as he hit a couple obstacles.

Leonardo's stomach dropped. He called to Raphael and Michelangelo to cover him and dropped down after the genius, where was he, where was he-

By some miracle, he was alive, laying on the concrete, oh God that was blood- Crimson, pooling around him staining bandages, his mask, everything. His staff was laying across the alleyway, broken. Leonardo dropped down beside him and lifted him up. Shoot, he was already unconscious? He didn't have much time.

Leonardo traced his hands down busted scales and torn skin, looking for the major source of the blood. It had to be somewhere that would bleed a lot, some kind of artery or, or-

Frick.

Frick.

Heads did bleed a lot, didn't they?

At least it wasn't deep, right? It couldn't be deep, it probably just broke the skin, so it was bleeding.

No such luck. Leonardo didn't know much about how skulls should look, but it was not like that. He needed Donatello, but that was who he was caring for, and he couldn't get answers.

Leonardo wrestled a cloth and some water out of the medicine bag they all had, wetting the cloth, dabbing away blood, and cleaning the wound as best as he could. He followed up with bandages, desperate to stem the bleeding, but trying to remain calm and composed. If he had learned anything from war, it was that panicking helped no one.

As the battle above ended, Michelangelo and Raphael climbed down almost frantically, seeing what was the problem.

"Is he alri-" Michelangelo began, then quickly cut off, noticing the pooling blood, thick and warm and sticky.

"He has a really bad head injury, and we need to move him. Now," Leonardo explained curtly.

He slipped one arm under Donatello's legs, his other under his shell, and carefully lifted him up. There was a low moan that Leonardo tried to ignore as he turned to his other two still standing brothers and tipped his head towards the manhole.

Michelangelo darted forward and opened it, and Raphael hopped down to help carry Donatello down. The thing they needed the least was to accidentally drop him and crack his skull open entirely.

The walk was painfully silent, everybody looking at Donatello every now and again to make sure he was still breathing.

As soon as they were home, they rushed Donatello into the lab. There had to be something that could help them, the resident doctor always kept something useful handy. Donatello was passed off to Raphael to settle somewhere while Leonardo dug through boxes and bins, over desks. It had to be somewhere around, it had to be. He couldn't keep wasting time when the bandages he used earlier were already turning red, when Donatello was getting paler and paler by the minute.

There it was, the heavy kit, reserved for emergencies. Now, he didn't know much, but he was fairly certain that a heavily bleeding head injury counted as an emergency. Leonardo ripped it open, taking what he needed and hurried back to where they had set Donatello up. Praying to whatever deity would listen, he crouched down and tried not to fumble with the needle and thread as he stitched up the wound. The blood flow would stop, and then Donatello would wake up later, right?

...He hoped so, but he tried not to keep his hopes up.

The bandaging process was familiar, the bottom layer soaked to keep the injury clean, and after that? They would have to wait and see.

"I'll keep the first watch," Leonardo murmured, pulling up a chair to sit. It would be a long, long night. "I just wish we had something better for him."

%%%

They swapped back and forth all night, and the next day, and the rest of the week, just taking care of Donatello.

Eventually, Leonardo had to say that he had most likely fallen into comatose, and wouldn't wake up for a long time, if ever. They were simply not qualified to take care of him, and he might never be okay.

Of course it was met with sobs, protests, questions that he could not answer.

When left with silence, though, Leonardo himself expressed frustration, silent tears falling down even when they didn't belong.

Whumptober: The Doctor Is In

Leonardo fixed a wary gaze on the dark figure moving around in the shadows, switching between multiple laptops and a phone while mumbling to themself. A couple moments later, they gave a triumphant laugh, and picked up a syringe. His breathing started spiralling out of control, as it had multiple times in the past couple of days.

Calm, he needed to be calm. What situation was he in, what could he control?

Well, he was bound and gagged, and probably about to get experimented on but-

He could control his breathing and how he reacted to this situation. In, and out. In-

A needle was pushed into his neck and he choked down a whine as he was nearly overwhelmed with exhaustion. The person who injected him with the mystery fluid smirked and grabbed his (his? His, that was a he, Leonardo could see better now) phone. He turned the lights up and forced Leonardo to squint in the sudden, blinding light. Whoever captured him smirked, and held up the phone with the camera pointed at him.

"You’re going to be broadcasted now, everybody will know that there are aliens," Leonardo's rage boiled. They were not aliens (he had been spending far too much time with Donatello). They spent most of their time protecting Earth from aliens! “Remember to smile for the camera."

%%%

They searched everywhere.

Everywhere.

Literally, all across the city, every building they could get to, turning places inside out, scouring the surface for their missing brother. It was like he had just disappeared. The tracker in his phone had stopped working all of a sudden, and they were left in the dark as to where he might've been. Seriously, they nearly beat someone to death looking for clues, for God's sake! Where was he?

They were going on a wild goose chase with no good outcome if they had zero idea where he disappeared to, a handful of leads, and barely any clues. At that point, they were desperate. They'd take anything given to them, as long as they got closer to solving the mystery.

Suddenly, the city lighting changed while they were looking around. There was a deafening sound of microphone feedback from multiple points across the city, forcing everybody to cover their ears, mutant or human. The city went silent.

New York City was not supposed to be silent.

Three brothers tensed and looked up when the sound had passed, tense and ready for a fight.

But there was no threat, just some dude in his mid-twenties in a brightly lit room. He looked like Bishop, almost. If Bishop was about ten years younger, had longer hair, and a ton more spunk and energy. Donatello got drained just by looking at him, and that was saying something, considering he had Michelangelo as a brother.

But this kid had also apparently found a way to access every large screen in New York, so that probably wasn't good.

"People of New York!" He began, "Believe me if you will, but I have found an alien!"

Donatello and Raphael shared a look, something skeptical, wary, and incredulous. Michelangelo was enthralled, as if aliens were something new to him. The camera turned quickly, a blur of white and blue and green and-

The three blanched as they took in the sight, and people gasped below.

Leonardo, tied hand and foot with a gag in his mouth. Leonardo, looking far more tired than before he left. Leonardo, bandaged and stitched in some places. Dread hit Donatello first, followed by unadulterated rage. So that’s where he had been all that time. Probably, he had been right underneath their noses, and yet they just never saw it. Now, he paid the price.

"I suspect that there are more, not just this one. This is just the beginning of something bigger."

There were a few murmurs from below, as if the people of New York hadn't lived through multiple invasions that they stopped. It wasn't anything new. Had this kid- Correction: Man- Been living in a bubble?

"Today, my dear people, I will be running experiments. We, together, are going to see what makes it go tick. What can we move today? If any other aliens are watching, this is a threat. We have one of your own, I'd recommend backing off of our planet."

Donatello felt sick and turned away when the sounds started up. Sounds of tools he knew, but would never even think of using on his family, or anyone for that matter. It got worse, muffled screams of agony reaching him even through his oldest brother's gag, the background noise of machinery, and the speaker that Donatello doubted was any good. The wails came through crystal clear, as if there was nothing to block it with.

Raphael covered Michelangelo's ears as the youngest borrowed into his plastron, choking back sobs.

It took a minute for Donatello to realize that he himself was trembling madly, unable to get relief from the second-hand torture until the government eventually interfered. This broadcast was definitely not under official order.

“They’re-” Michelangelo cried, “They’re hurting him! They’re hurting him, we have to do something!”

“What we need to do is find him.” Donatello curled his hands into fists so that his knuckles turned white, “He’ll kill him at this rate.”

Raphael, for the first time in a while, served as a voice of reason. “But everybody has seen Leo now. The people who don’t think it’s a hoax will be actively looking for us and the Mutanimals-”

“I don’t care,” Donatello hissed, trying to keep his voice low, “that’s our brother he’s experimenting on, and I’m not leaving him.”

“Don’t make a scene, Don.” Raphael looked down and tried to soothe Michelangelo without moving his hands away from his ears, “We’ll be found sooner if you do.”

Donatello took a breath and tried to soothe his frayed nerves. That was… Incredibly uncharacteristic of him. He shouldn’t have lashed out at Raphael like that, it wasn’t his fault. “Sorry,” he mumbled, “I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.”

Raphael nodded, and started moving, hesitantly taking his hands off of Michelangelo’s ears and nudging him to move. Donatello would have preferred it if he had yelled back.

They went around their usual area, going back to places where they thought they were on to something, and people had gotten fleeting glances at their missing brother. Donatello tried to block out the wails, to no avail. It was just a constant reminder that they were so close, yet so far.

Don’t give up yet, he reminded himself, You’ll be giving up on him if you do that.

Below them, there was a great deal of reactions from people. Some had their phones out, either recording (ew) or calling a number. Others had covered childrens’ eyes and ears, and were moving away, trying to get away from the gruesome experimentation. The rest were skeptical, afraid, wary, angry, or morbidly fascinated. Donatello wished that the screens would go back to their normal ads and programs already, anything, just not having to witness his oldest brother in splintering agony.

Half an hour passed. Wails and screams turned to soft cries and grunts, then silence beside ragged breathing.

Donatello risked sneaking a look, and froze like a deer in headlights.

He shouldn’t- He shouldn’t have looked like that. There was blood everywhere, splattered on clothes, on scales, on the floor and walls, but unfortunately not onto the camera. There were some things missing, removed by a mad doctor who was probably out of his mind. Leonardo was wrecked almost beyond recognition, if Donatello hadn’t seen his brother just moments earlier.

He bit back a sob, unable to look away. It was unethical. It was gruesome. It was awful.

Michelangelo grabbed his shoulder, jolting him out of his paralysis. Donatello turned to look at him and realized that there were tears flowing down his own cheeks. Behind him, the sounds finally stopped, the lighting changed. The screens were finally back under control. Raphael joined Michelangelo’s side and nodded to Donatello, looking about as sorrowful as Donatello felt.

%%%

They had no leads, had to (literally) go underground to avoid getting caught, and couldn’t even go up to the surface to help with investigation. Casey and April took over the investigation, but didn’t have much luck either. They were getting desperate, grasping at straws. They’d take anything at that point, just remembering seeing that madman play with Leonardo’s body like he was a doll, ripping him almost to pieces.

%%%

Leonardo gasped in pain and squeezed his eyes shut, trying to assess the damage. His head was swimming from the pain and blood loss, he could barely remember his own name at the moment, but if he wanted to find a way out, he needed to remember what was not going to move and what wasn’t there anymore.

Shoot, at this rate, how did he even plan on living to the next day? He needed to get out fast, but his body wouldn’t move when he told it to, it wouldn’t even budge.

The male from earlier came back, holding another syringe filled with ominous blue liquid. Oh. Oh, no. His day just kept getting better and better, huh?

%%%

“I FOUND SOMETHING!” April yelled as she busted into the lair.

Everybody was on their feet immediately, ready to take anybody out and get Leonardo back.

“His name is Alek Wright, twenty-four, American. He just graduated college recently, believes in the supernatural, and is extremely unethical and willing to take risks.”

Oh. That explained a lot about why he was so eager to move things around that should not have been moving. He really was a “mad scientist”.

Raphael bit the inside of his cheek.

There was blood everywhere, splattered on clothes, on scales, on the floor and walls, but unfortunately not onto the camera. There were some things missing, removed by a mad man. Leonardo was wrecked almost beyond recognition, ripped to pieces on camera.

“What are we waiting for?” he growled and shook his head to clear away the image. “We need to go find him. You got an address of some kind?”

April nodded and led them outside. He prayed that they wouldn’t be too late, and that there wouldn’t just be a bloody mess waiting for them.

%%%

“This is the place?” Raphael whispered, itching to just get in and get his older brother already.

April nodded, and Raphael wrinkled his nose. It definitely fit the “lab” description. Tall building, definitely not housing, multiple floors, and clearly well maintained and used frequently. How the heck did this dude get a hold of a building like that? There was no way that he wasn’t part of something official if he got his hands on something so professional looking.

“Then let's get in and get Leo!” Michelangelo huffed and fidgeted, trying to stare through the windows.

Donatello nodded, and looked to Raphael, the leader while Leonardo was gone. He nodded back, and the four, including April, snuck inside. They wandered around a bit, looking for something, anything, and then-

Blood. Lots, and lots of blood, trailing into a room. Logically, they followed it into a separate room, one with multiple pieces of well-used equipment, computers, bright lights and-

Leonardo. Bloody and half dead, multiple pieces of his body replaced with something else, and asleep. Or maybe unconscious? Perhaps he passed out from the blood loss. Either way, Raphael didn’t know. But he did know that he was running towards his oldest brother as fast as he could and crouching in front of him, a hand on his neck to check his pulse.

It was weak and kept stuttering, but it was there. He was alive.

“Oniichan,” Raphael breathed, “We’re here for you, don’t worry. We’ll get you out of this pit.”

“HA!” Came a victorious laugh from behind them, “I was right! There are-”

Gone. Before Raphael knew what he was doing, he had stood up and whirled on his heel, tossing multiple kunai into that mad man’s face. It wasn’t the most ethical thing he could have done, but it worked, and he was dead at their feet. Nobody said anything, probably satisfied with the outcome. The “doctor” would never bother them again.

Donatello helped Raphael pick Leonardo up, hovering around him nervously and occasionally holding his hand over Leonardo like it would do something. Raphael felt a pang of pity for his younger brother, but refused to let Leonardo go, not so soon after finding him.

%%%

At home, Donatello had hooked Leonardo up to multiple machines and sat nearby for watch while waiting for him to wake up. He had to set multiple things right on Leonardo’s body if he wanted anything to go well.

A soft sigh of relief escaped him as he settled to just listen to the steady heartbeat belonging to his oldest brother. He was alive, he was alive, he was-

It flatlined, and Donatello stumbled to his feet, reaching over to Leonardo. CPR, he knew CPR, but it had to be shorter than a minute, or he wouldn’t be able to do it. Shorter than a minute-

Raphael and Michelangelo came flying in, and hovered nearby when they saw Donatello doing CPR. They’d need to be there if Donatello couldn’t do it.

He barely noticed them, though, repeating the mantra “30 compressions, 2 breaths” in his head. If he forgot, he would never let himself live it down.

It took longer than a minute. Donatello had to step back, trembling from exhaustion, and let Raphael take over. He couldn’t get him back either, and Michelangelo went next. When that failed, Donatello went next, repeating the mantra again. Then the heartbeat started back up again, and the relief in the room was almost palpable. Some way, somehow, he was still kicking.

“Well,” Donatello said, “I think I’m going to take a nap now before my heart fails me too. Mikey, can you watch him? Wake me up if something goes wrong.”