Whumptober: Oops, I Did It Again

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: 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: 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: Oh, Breathe Without Me (Under Pressure)

A/N: Oh look, a song verse as a title (Wozwald by Yuu Miyashita)

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

Leonardo tested the door first, then signaled to his brothers that it was alright as he slid the door open just enough for him to creep in and duck into a hiding place. His family followed suit and disappeared into the shadows, hiding from prying eyes, invisible if you didn’t already know that they were there.

The building itself that they were “breaking into” was a large, multi-tier warehouse that Raphael reported seeing Purple Dragons at when he was with Casey. He said that they looked like they were taking only specific crates, and it was decided upon with unanimous vote that it was worth checking out, since the new leader of the street gang had been willing to step things up quite a bit.

“So, here’s the plan,” Leonardo whispered, “Raph and Donnie will take this level, look around for any gang members and see if they can learn anything or see what they’re taking. Me and Mikey will go to the top level and do the same thing, then we meet midway. Any objections?”

When he received only silence as a response, Leonardo took that as a sign that nobody was against it and began walking over to the staircase, Mikey following close behind.

The two went to the top floor, and worked their way through the whole level, finding a single member moving about, but nothing important or worthwhile, not what they were looking for. Still, they covered the whole floor, making sure that they checked every suspicious object, every nook and cranny, anything that looked fake and could be hiding something.

But they found nothing, so they went to the middle floor to get a headstart on looking there. Leonardo began to grow frustrated, though, feeling that familiar itch. Had they been too late? Had they missed the things that they actually needed to see? What if they missed something that had been really important, and everything was messed up just because of it? He bit back the low growl that threatened to leave him. Calm, he needed to be calm. They weren’t done here yet.

There were a pair of voices, and Leo was obligated to move closer to listen in, as he couldn’t yet make out what they were saying. It was a pair of gang members (finally, something they might be able to use!), leaned up against the wall and speaking in undertones.

“Are we almost done here?” The one to Leonardo’s left grunted. He had a long, winding snake tattoo that started on his snake and roped around his right arm, that Leonardo honestly thought was cool. However, he sounded like he had been chain smoking for years, which would explain the aged look on his face, even though Leonardo estimated that he could only be in his twenties or thirties.

“Almost,” The one to his right responded automatically. In contrast to the one on his left, this member looked a heck of a lot younger. There were no scars, no tattoos, he didn’t look nor sound any older than fifteen. Instead, he had long hair pulled into a tight bun and a few piercings, some of which were shaped like crosses. Huh, he was religious, maybe? “We’re just grabbing the last of things, and then they plan on blowing the place to the high heavens.”

Leonardo froze, exchanging a look with Michelangelo, who looked equally as appalled.

“Really? Won’t that grab us attention as terrorists?”

“Dunno, but the boss don’t care ‘bout that.”

“Huh.”

And then they just left, as if they hadn’t talked about blowing up a building in the middle of a highly populated city, risking probably quite a few civilians’ lives.

Michelangelo looked at him, and Leonardo nodded, understanding what he meant immediately. They needed to tell Donatello and Raphael, and get out as soon as possible, or try to step them from blowing up the building.

They bolted towards the stairs, just as the middle pair were coming up. All four of them ended up retreating back to the middle floor, ducking between crates as Leonardo and Michelangelo passed on what they had learned, earning almost yells and curses.

“We need to find the detonator before they set whatever bombs they have set up,” Leonardo said, stating the obvious. “The member with it is probably outside already, but I did see somebody lingering on the top level, and I think I’m gonna see, just in case. I don’t think they would blow up their own.

Leonardo didn’t want them in the building if it exploded. He was putting them in a potentially dangerous situation, he needed them outside, they couldn’t get hurt there. At least, not too terribly. Maybe from debris, but that would be more manageable then being in the building when it went down.

“Are you sure?” Raphael looked him over, eye ridges furrowed in concern. They were catching on.

“Mhm. I’m going to stay inside for just a minute, I’ll be out soon. Just try and check the people outside. At the very least, make sure that whatever they’re exporting stays here.”

Thankfully, they bought it, leaving him alone in the building. Now he just had to keep going with the act. And yes, he was afraid. No, he was terrified, he knew that he was probably going to die, but it was an occupational hazard, he guessed. They weren't always going to have some form of protection.

Leonardo turned and went upstairs, just in time to hear rapid beeping before a near deafening explosion. Then, everything went dark.

%%%

A splintering pain in his lower back and legs was the first thing, and Leonardo let out a low groan. What happened? Why did he feel like he was getting crushed? Had they fallen asleep in a Turtle Pile again?

Something shifted above him, and dust drifted down lazily. Oh right.

The only thing keeping him from having his skull crushed were some metal rods that creaked and bent under the weight of the concrete. A little movement revealed that his legs were most likely crushed from the boulders, and the only thing keeping his spinal cord from meeting the same fate was his shell, a natural armor he would be eternally grateful for. He struggled a bit, which only elicited protests and screams from his aching body.

Then he then heard people, humans, talking, close enough to feel them stepping over the concrete, but they sounded so far away…

He froze, then retreated into a cracked shell, holding his breath and waiting for them to pass.

“I could’ve sworn I heard somebody over here…”

A few minutes passed, then they moved on, leaving him alone to his misery. While the help would have been appreciated, he couldn’t risk letting humans see him, especially not in a state where he couldn’t move, much less defend himself.

Leonardo thrashed a bit, being careful not to let his shell hit things and make sounds that could draw attention to himself, but was quickly stopped by white hot fire in his arm, like a thousand needles pushed past his scales.

No, apparently that was not going to work.

Leonardo worked his mind for paths out of his situation, trying desperately to seek some way to get out of the hole he dug for himself, and eventually fell asleep. There was nothing he could do in the day, when he was at a higher risk for being seen by humans.

%%%

When he came to, he quickly realized that it was night. Unlike before, there was barely any light streaming through the cracks between the debris, leaving him nearly blind.

Taking hold of the situation, he started struggling. He had to get out, he couldn’t stay there, not when there were people depending on him to come back. By the second, his struggles grew more and more frantic, scrambling at the boulders pushing on his legs and shell to the best of his ability with his limited reach.

But the agony only grew in his fractured arm, pushing him to the point of tears, burning and tearing through his muscle. Him, Leonardo “Supernatural Pain Tolerance” Hamato, crying over a fracture. Shell, now the tears were flowing freely, racing down his face and staining the ground beneath him. Frustration and pain and anger, all mixed together and finally bursting free. How could he have been so stupid?

He didn’t remember falling asleep, but suddenly he was opening his eyes, head resting on his good arm. It wasn’t another day, as far as he knew, since the humans probably would have been working on removing the rubble. It was still dark, he still couldn’t see. The sounds of cars felt distant, although he wasn’t too far from the road, as far as he knew. Had the explosion done something to his hearing? Shoot, was he deaf? Or, at least, almost there? It wouldn’t be too terrible, he didn’t rely on his hearing that much, but. It was still a shocking development-

He couldn’t feel his legs. Frick, he couldn’t feel his legs. He needed to say alert, he needed- He couldn’t start losing then, trapped under cement and at risk all the time. Leonardo clawed at his arm, biting his tongue when it burned, spreading the same agony from before, but the pain was good- The pain was good, pain helped stay alert, he couldn’t lose himself then, couldn’t lose feeling.

Leonardo was loopy, he knew. He was in and out again, a faint blue light of the early morning streaming in. But he heard voices again, so close to him he wanted to cry. He knew the voices that time. His family hadn’t left him, why would they? They came back for him, even if they were risking coming early in the morning, when the humans were waking up. 

He took a shaky breath, then: “Marco.”

The response that came was from Michelangelo, sounding overjoyed in his response and like he had been crying too. “Polo!”

“Marco.”

“Polo- Donnie! Raph! He’s here, I think he’s here!”

The grating and scratching was faint, but the light grew, he could hear them, he could hear them looking, they were trying to dig him out!

“Shoot- Don! I found ‘im!”

Strong arms wrapped around him as the last of the rubble was moved off of him, and slowly pulled him up. Beside him, Raphael growled: “You’re so stupid, Fearless. What were you thinkin’ playing a dang martyr?”

Donatello came running over from where he was a few feet away, a short, strangled sob leaving him.

“Oh my God- Leo! Leo I’m so sorry, we should have come sooner, we should have realized, I- You-”

“Hey,” Leonardo hushed him, struggling a bit in Raphael’s grip although he couldn’t even stand on his own, “It was my fault. My plan.”

“No, you shut up- Raph carry him, we need to be home fast.”

Leonardo bit his tongue to hold back a protest as Raphael smirked and lifted him up bridal style. He noted that the younger was careful not to jostle him too much. He was still being careful.

Once home, Leonardo received a thorough lecture (who would’ve thought?) and a check-up, before being told he needed bed rest, and couldn’t leave. Donatello announced that both his legs were, in fact, broken from the weight on them. His shell was the only reason that he wasn’t paralyzed from the waist down, taking the brunt of the hit. However, from being so close to the explosion, Leonardo was, for the most part, hard of hearing, just as he thought.

For the rest of the night, they all insisted on being close enough to him to smother him, but he wasn’t complaining. It wasn’t like he could run from it, anyway.

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: 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.”