Starvation - Tumblr Posts - Page 2

I made this oc like one or two years ago by a challenge I found on pinterest (I couldn't find it atm sadly TvT)

I kinda came to like his design tbh

Day 3 of @traumas-tmntober-2024 Starvation:

Of Hunger And Heart

Words: 1802

Being raised in the dark sewers by a previously human rat mutant wasn't a recipe that lended well to healthy eating habits. Mikey is often underesrimated but his observation skills were always brilliant even as a small child who couldn't convey his feelings nor findings properly.

So he vompensated in a different way.

OR

Why Mikey will eat anything.

Michelangelo hadn't always been considered a glutton. Someone who would eat anything whether it was edible or not. He had picked this trait up very early on, however.

His earliest memories were shrouded in. darkness. It was also cold and wet and the walls echoed any noise that was made. The echoes of growling stomachs and soft whines were deafening and he could remember holding his hands against his tympanum to stop it.

That made hearing his father's quiet crying and lack of presence ever more obvious, at least to him. Raphie and Lee and DeeDee were still asleep in the turtle pile but Mikey was a light sleeper and his Chichi's fur and warmth was gone.

Mikey didn't get out from under his siblings even though he desperately wanted to. Mikey never sought out his papa or told him he'd witnessed many moments like this. Times where in the dim light he could make out the hunched form of their sensei holding his keepsakes from his first family or quietly counting tins of food.

It wasn't easy to see with the streaks of the far away streetlamp that his younger self had dubbed 'the mini sun,’ either. It was in this low light surrounded by his brothers that he had made the decision to be as helpful as he could. Whilst watching them play he'd keep him distracted, drawing him out of that hauntingly distant look. He would demand his attention and affection to keep him in the moment. He knew it upset Chichi when he was awake late at night. So, he would make up for the sad nights by getting up early to babble and take his mind off of what was upsetting him.

Most of all, Michelangelo would never refuse any food he was given. Unlike Raphie who would refuse foods that looked gross or he knew would taste weird, or Dee, who had cemented what he liked early on and never even tried anything new. He never complained about the food like Lee used to. He always ate without fuss.

Human food was difficult to attain for Sensei but he had tried when they were learning to turtle. He couldn't get money so he was forced to steal for what they needed, which he still tried to do in the most honourable way. He only took the bare minimum and he usually took what was already going to be thrown out and wasted.

It still proved too difficult to sustain. Having 4 babies to keep an eye on as he gathered blankets and formula and avoided witnesses and the sparse cameras was difficult enough but the danger of leaving his toddlers in the sewers as he scavenged alone made it even harder. Especially with some of the events going on at the time.

Mikey hadn't known any of this back then but there was a clear difference from seeing their father disappear every few nights to only seeing him leave once every few weeks, his shoulders taut with stress and exhaustion. Instead, often taking them throughout the sewers to collect sewer water and algae.

Mikey had loved the little bucket he had that was decorated with small painted pictures that he'd use to carry water and algae. He'd help Splinter separate the algae to be stored and to crush eggshells every now and then for the calcium. He did this whilst balancing precariously on the rickety chair they had found on the side of a road to reach the table that Splinter had rebuilt when it'd been thrown out with the bins.

He had first learnt to cook with his Chichi. Well, cooking was a loose term for everything they were doing. He wasn't allowed too close to the fire but Dee was because he was being taught how to purify the water so they could drink it. Instead, papa spent hours teaching him how to cure and plate and make the algae more palatable and something to do with hydraulics and his skills only expanded with age.

Mikey was the algae's biggest advocate. Chichi didn't love it but he bit his tongue and ate all of Mikey's dishes without a word and he was ever so grateful. That confidence and trust was what he needed.

Leo followed eventually, looking up to their Chichiue more and more and copying him but he still didn't find enjoyment from eating this food. Mikey had long banned him from the kitchen the few times he'd try to do something and destroyed parts of his kitchen. That boy could burn water and they did not have the resources for that!

Donnie didn't ever have anything nice to say about the algae but he'd usually hold his beak when Master Splinter ate with them. He only ate what was nutritionally required and sometimes not even that when he was cooped up in his lab. He'd snuck a few bits of lettuce at times, Mikey noted.

Raph ate the least of his food. He picked at it, threw it at his siblings and fed it to Mikey's favourite turtle at-the-time: Spike. That was why when Mikey was old enough he would always beg Sensei with his best puppy dog eyes if he could grab lettuce if nothing else. Raph would show his gratefulness with soft noogies and a quick thanks and less moaning about the food directly after. The first time he even let Miley look at his comics!

Mikey didn't like the algae either though but he didn't truly realise until he had that first slice of pizza on their 15th mutation day. Mikey didn't realise how hungry he was until that first greasy slice hit his tongue. The cheese stretched and clung to his teeth, the warmth of the dough filling his stomach like nothing ever had before. It was like tasting joy for the first time. Just having enough would never be the same.

Mikey didn't handle the change from no real food to having so much of it that well. He probably took advantage of April's kindness those first few months asking for outlandish ingredients and amounts of so many new foods. He finally got to cook! He got to make food his family actually enjoyed. He got to experiment with wild concoctions.

Mikey was hooked on seeing his family's eyes light up at his dishes and come running when the smell of food wafted out of the kitchen. He got genuine compliments and felt useful to the team!

There was another problem, however. He started hoarding food and snacks in his room and silently panicking when the hunger pangs returned. Suddenly, going without food like during times when they were held hostage or just on a long patrol were even harder even though he knew he had gone days without anything when he was much younger. A few hours shouldn't scare him so much. It was a weakness he hid and buried deep down.

He and Casey often hung out in his room reading comics and holding their own really bad karaoke sessions or planning skating routes. Sometimes Mondo joined in. He hadn't expected Casey to find his stash when he hadn't before in all the times they'd hung out in his room.

Casey had held Michelangelo tightly and stayed quiet for a while until he dropped the bomb on him. “I understand.”

Mikey may be more in touch with his emotions than his brother's but he still wasn't a cry baby. Though he isn't afraid to admit that he ugly sobbed into Casey's shoulder and got snot everywhere.

Once he had settled down, Casey had promised not to tell the others so long as he spoke to his dad and let him clean the food out. Mikey agreed and Casey got to work. He didn't ask Mikey to throw out the food Casey could tell he was itching to hide it again. Instead Casey took the fresh produce and binned it. Mikey jumped in at first unable to let go of the food. What if they needed it? The apple was only a little rotten, it could sustain him for a bit if they couldn't get more food. He couldn't just waste it! Casey gently wrestled it out of his hands and sat him down.

“You know how shitty my sperm-donor is? Well he wasn't good at buying food for his offspring either. We don't usually have food I can hide but whenever there's free food handouts or some food going out of date I could take or Murakami's leftovers Ianaged to store up I'd hide em. They'd be gone within a few hours if I put them in the kitchen and not cause my little sister had eaten it either.” Casey stopped for a moment to breathe. He wrapped an arm between the lip of Mikey's carapace and his neck and pulled him closer.

“What I'm trying to say is you deserve better and this food is gonna get you ill. I'm not saying go cold turkey but leave the stuff that goes off out of your room. You hear me?” Casey grinned at that last but, using his other arm to lightly punch Mike's arm. The giggle that was pulled out of him had them in a better mood, joking as they continued.

Mikey still itched to stop Casey touching his hoard but he stayed disciplined and forced himself to watch as Casey finished binning all the gone-off food and placing the snacks that wouldn't go out if date or at least soon in a little box. He'd also taken the random bits like the tin if kidney beans out. It overwhelmed Mikey even though he hadn't actually done anything but everything felt so big and strange.

Mikey put the small box under his bed and hugged Casey again. He felt so lucky one of his best friends cared so much, hadn't judged him, and let him keep some snacks. He forgot he had promised to talk to his papa until Casey mentioned he'd ask about it the next time he came over.

Mikey was thoroughly stuffed. That was not going to go well but he decided that was a tomorrow Mikey problem. For now, Mikey was going to make sure Dee had eaten and then maybe head to bed.

He felt lighter and anxious all at once and it was a feeling he felt was best slept off. Maybe he could put off talking to Sensei if he talked to Casey about it instead.

How could he tell Chichi that, despite all his sacrifices, it hadn't been enough? That they had still gone hungry? He wouldn't do that to him. He couldn't bear to hurt him like that.

The thought was forced out of his mind as he dragged open the lab's sliding door.

Hello!!! Thanks for making it this far, I appreciate it and hope you enjoyed it!! This fic is very personal to me and a lot of it is my own projections adapted to fit my child: Mikey!

Chichi and Chichue both are japanese endearments for father that I believe the tots would use more than sensei and Mikey would still use as he does Papa in the show.

Mikey mentions hyrdaulics but he's actually misinterpreted this as its hydrolisis, one of the ways algae is treated and the egg shells are actually for the calcium carbonate needed.

I have so many little tidbits in these fics I add in like Casey having a little sister and using his IDW backstory as inspiration for Casey's backstory. Also a lot of these are headcanons that are reflected in fanfics like Hey Sunshine by @leadenn (my favourite fanfic series!! sorry for the tag but its so worth the read!) and I'd love to hear about my writing criticisms and all from those who bothered to read it!!! Thanks for listening to my tangent, enjoy yourselves!!

Edit: Tyyy so much to my mate who beta read this just as I posted and pointed out a few mistakes, theyve been fixed now!!

Whumptober: All Trussed Up And Still Nowhere To Go

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

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

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

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

It meant death.

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

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

Oh, so they were aiming for- OH-

They were aiming for capture.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Idiot.

He knew he would fall, but Leo jumped anyway.

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

He skittered at the edge.

He did not make it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Leonardo was out long before he ever hit the ground.

%%%

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

Oh.

Oh right.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh, that was a CT scan. Of course.

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

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

Or-

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

…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

%%%

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And holy crap, they were strong.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

(How is this idiot still functioning.)

excited to read this!!!

Whumptober Day 12

WARNINGS: STARVING, PASSING OUT, FROSTBITE

CHAPTER 13: STARVATION

This was why Legend had retired. He was so tired of being randomly dropped in different worlds with inhospitable environments!

“This is mine, well, sort of,” explained Time. “It’ll take a few days to get out of the cold. I just wonder why Termina.” Legend shook his head. Maybe Hylia is trying to validate my reasons for retirement? He laughed to himself.  As if! 

Legend looked around and began a headcount. It was safe to assume that the portals might separate them.

“Where’s Wind and Twilight?” he asked.

****

Twilight and Wind were alone. In a tundra. With no food. This was going to be awful. Twilight looked around for any sign of the others, but there was nothing. No smoke, no fire light, no footprints. He didn’t want to risk scaring Wind by becoming a wolf and trying to catch the group’s scent, plus, there was no way Wind could keep  up with him in that form.

“I’m g-guessing we’re going to have to f-find the edge of the snow b-by ourselves, aren’t we?” asked Wind.

“That just about sums it up,” agreed Twilight. They both agreed on a direction that they believed would take them out of the tundra sooner than later, and began trudging through the thick snow. The two started out hopeful. They had a nice conversation, and Wind occasionally would ask to be on Twilight’s shoulders so that he could warm up on Twilight’s pelt.

When night came, the wind picked up and the air became even colder. They had to stop so that they didn’t freeze. And almost every day went like that. There was no game in sight, or anything that could be food. But at least they could melt some snow and drink it as water.

As the days went by, their spirits dropped further and further. How large can this tundra be? There was absolutely no sign of life of any kind. Wind was clearly starting to wear down, but he couldn’t be helped in the cold. They needed to get out, and fast.

On the seventh day, Wind collapsed. He was too cold, and too light. Twilight scooped him up and carried him. They needed to make it out. 

Twilight took no breaks. The wind had grown harsher and colder, and was unforgiving to any living thing that tried to resist it. Twilight felt his hands go completely numb. He stumbled in the snow and had to regain his balance before he accidentally crushed Wind.

But the worst thing? The hunger. It burned within Twilight. He needed to eat, and he was going to starve if he didn’t. But he had no food, and the tundra clearly wasn’t going to give him any. Yet, he continued on. Wind’s life was in his hands, quite literally.

He saw the edge on the ninth day of walking. He saw smoke and fire light. He longed to get there. His feet were dragging, but he pushed himself. He could make it! All he needed to do was walk about half a mile more, and he would be safe. Wind would be safe, which is what really mattered.

He was about twenty feet away from the camp when he finally collapsed. He heard concerned voices and footsteps shuffling towards him. He looked up into Wild and Time’s concerned eyes, then his vision faded to black.

*****

“They’re both starved!” called Hyrule. “Twilight has severe frostbite and Wind seems entirely unconscious.”

“Make a broth!” added Legend.

Time and Warriors carried the two freezing heroes to the fire. Wind began to stir before Twilight did. He eventually opened his eyes and looked around.

“Where’s Twi? Is he okay? Oh, Hylia, he had to carry me for miles and–”

“He’s okay Wind, don’t worry,” said Time. “Well, he’ll be okay anyways.” Wind started to relax. 

“I am so hungry,” he commented.

“It’s only a wonder. You guys were out there without food for twelve days.”

Twilight groaned and pushed himself up. “I smell food, and death couldn’t stop me from eating it right now.”

Wild laughed. “It’s not quite done yet, you can go back to sleep.”

“And risk missing out on food? Never.” The Chain ate and everyone was satisfied. They began to go to sleep for the night. 

Warriors called Sky over. “I’m assigning you Twilight tonight,” he said cryptically.

“Understood, sir!” grinned Sky. Twilight wasn’t going to complain when Sky was hugging him like a blanket all night. He was warm, and that’s all that mattered.

Watching the feral child tear into the food on the table made Jet feel very uneasy.

The boy... no, girl... the child was so scrawny. Skin and bone and bright hair and wide-eyed innocence...

She devoured every scrap of food that had been on the plate and then licked the plate clean more vigorously than he'd ever seen even Ein take to a dish.

It spoke of a level of starvation that Jet himself - despite any grumpy complaints Spike might have to the contrary - had ever experienced.

Sure, there had been some lean times. Meals of vegetables but no protein, meals of cup noodles and not even vegetables to go with, meals of single ingredients (could it even be called a meal? it had to count) but typically it was only a few hungry hours - days at most - before they'd snag a bounty and could get some grub.

This kid... hell, she might have been LIVING off actual grubs.

The ruins where she'd been hiding... there were no fields there. No gardens. No grocery stores or convenience stores or anything except broken buildings and rebar and rubble.

The effervescent attitude of the child was mind boggling. Hunger tended to make Jet (and Spike and Faye for that matter) as cantankerous as all get out. Sniping at each other, fighting over the last bean, full of attitude if not food. Most of their arguments happened when no one was adequately fed.

The cheer of this frighteningly thin child was disconcerting.

Maybe she truly was an alien after all.

He could hear her stomach grumble from across the room and felt a pang of sorrow at her plight.

Spike had already scarfed down his food and disappeared into the bowels of the ship. Faye had also dined and dipped - using up all the hot water in the shower from the creaky sounds of the pipes. Ein was still sniffing curiously around the newcomer.

Spearing a bit of potato onto his fork, Jet heard a growl from the dog. "Ein!" He snapped.

The dog made a sad whine at Jet's tone.

A childish giggle. "Wasn't Ein woof-woof!" The girl chirped. "Just Edward's belly monster!"

His gaze jumped to the rail-thin girl. Aghast, Jet looked down at his plate. He'd been so intent on watching the kid chow down that he'd only poked around his own portion. He looked back at the girl.

His stomach gave a gurgle but not so much like voicing his own appetite as it was commiserating with the emptiness of the other stomach in the room.

"Hey, kid."

Ed glanced at him, retracting her tongue from the plate and back into her mouth. "What, what?"

He tossed his plate onto the table between them. "Here. Finish this off for me, would ya?"

Delight sparkled in her eyes. "Oh, oh! A kindness! Edward knew Bebop-Bebop was the place to be!" She gave him a deep bow and got to work immediately with shoveling the food into her mouth with both hands as fast as she could chew or at least swallow. He wasn't sure if she was chewing at all.

The hollow feeling in the pit of his stomach was growing bigger with every bite she took.

Who would leave a child to starve? To fend for themselves on this miserable rock with no way to grow their own food... to gradually wither and wilt and slowly sadly pass from existence into a horrible aching death...

Clearing his throat gruffly, Jet got to his feet. "I'm uh... I'm just gonna fix up another plate. You uh... well, if you're hungry later, there'll be more to eat in the fridge, okay?"

The girl's eyes grew even wider, saucers of gold gleaming with amazement.

"Bebop-Bebop... what a place of wonder..." she breathed.

Jet suppressed a shiver.

What kind of a life had this poor creature lived before this?

The Fifth Turtle

Chapter 1: I’ve Got You

As she held it up, the turtle, Leo, pressed his hand against hers. Their three fingers matched perfectly, albeit 49’s hand was a bit smaller than his. 

“You’re like me,” 49 dared to say, her voice raspy and barely a whisper. 

His eyes widened. “Y-yeah.” He reached through the bars and squeezed her hand reassuringly, a tender smile spreading across his beak. “Don’t worry, I’ve got you.”

At first Donnie had been skeptical, after a day or two of thinking about it, he had pointed out that this was probably a coincidentally accurate publicity stunt. However, Leo had pulled the leader card and insisted that they check it out. Donnie had wanted to argue, even though Raph and Mikey agreed to it, but the softshell had never seen his twin this serious. That was what convinced him. 

After some online research from the totally reliable internet, Donnie had narrowed down their search to a laboratory near Staten Island. It must be Bishop’s personal lab. That was where their mysterious turtle would be. 

“I can’t believe we are risking exposing our existence to this guy,” Donnie hissed as they drove there in the Turtle Tank. “And to a scientist no less!”

“We at least need to check it out,” Leo snapped, his eyes narrowed. “Remember, I’m the leader and I say we go.” 

Donnie returned his glower, his arms crossed. “I’m just saying, even if there was a mutant in there, there is no possible way they could be our sibling.”

Raph glared at him. “We’re not saving them because they’re a turtle! We’re saving them because we’re heroes, and heroes don’t leave a mutant behind.”

Donnie growled under breath as he turned off the auto-pilot. “We’re almost there. I just need to park the tank.”

As Donnie pulled the tank to a stop, Mikey suddenly grabbed the purple-masked turtle’s shoulder. “Hey D, I need an update.”

Donnie glanced at him. “For your phone again?”

The box turtle shook his head. “No, for the plan this time.”

“Sigh,” Donnie said, leaning back in his seat. “Okay, first we’ll sneak in there and get a look at the situation. Then, we’ll get out and devise a plan to come back later. Any questions?”

“Nope!” Mikey chirped, bouncing out the now opened door. “Thanks, Donnie.”

With Leo leading the way, they went outside, and disappeared into the shadows.

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

The door slammed behind 49, making her jump. Usually the two goons that Bishop had hired would have brought her to testing, where Bishop was usually waiting. This time they brought her to a room.

It was pure white, no seams or cracks in the walls, everything was just a smooth, unbreaking white. However, there was a table in the middle of the room. It was a fold up table and had some books and pencils on top of it. After 49 scrabbled uselessly at the door for a bit, she turned her attention to the items sitting there. 

There was a book about crosswords and games, some blank sheets of paper, and a math workbook. The only thing that stopped 49 from bolting towards the table and reading was the fact that she knew someone was watching her. The lingering feeling on her shell told her that. She looked around. There were no cameras, but the itchy feeling remained. All 49 had to go by were her instincts and they were telling her someone was watching.

She stood frozen for a few moments, thinking. 49 remembered the people that had come to see her a few days ago. Bishop had shown her off like a rare, exotic animal. Then, he had let them get a chance to poke and prod at her in the testing room. They must have agreed to sponsor his research, she realized, glancing around. They must have paid for this room or something. They must be watching.

She quickly curled up in the corner, her heart racing. Gotta hide, GOTTA HIDE! She wished she could pop into her shell, she knew that box turtles were supposed to do that, but she couldn’t. In fact, she’d heard Bishop musing about it while he had been examining her. He had been saying that something must be wrong with the structure of her shell, something about an old injury.

Right now, all she wanted to do was curl up and let the darkness take her… and it did just that. 

49 woke up from the dream memory, gasping for breath. She remembered that she had spent days in that soulless white room. She rubbed her dry eyes, wincing in pain. 49’s throat burned. It felt like she’d swallowed the sun, but she hadn’t drank anything today, or yesterday for that matter. Her tongue felt like sandpaper against the roof of her mouth. Her stomach hurt too. Bishop had to feed her today, he had to. 

She glanced down at her chained hands. Though I could just break out if I wanted to…

Thanks to the Ghost Lady, Karai or her “Gram-Gram,” 49 learned that she had magic. Gram-Gram had called it mystics but they sounded like the same thing. 

She had taught 49 how to summon her mystic weapon, a bow and arrows. The scrawny box turtle was so, so desperate to escape, but she was too weak.

49 remembered the other thing the spirit had told her. Gram-Gram told her that she had brothers. Other turtles, mutants, like her. Gram-Gram told her that they were coming to save her. The box turtle was still doubtful of course. It could have been a hallucination or one of Bishop’s sick mental tricks. 

Bishop wouldn’t do that, things like that weren’t his style. Hope was one of the only things she had, although she was losing it rapidly. I can wait, 49 decided, scratching her arms. After all, I’ve been waiting for a long time, what’s a few more weeks? I can wait. My brothers are coming. Brothers are coming. I have brothers, they are coming. I can wait. Brothers coming… 

Her thoughts trailed off as hours passed. She kept repeating those words in her head, until a feeling stopped her whirlwind of thoughts. A noise, accompanied with that lingering feeling, told her someone was here and watching. 49’s hands felt warm and her arms hurt. She barely registered the blood caked under her fingernails and the wounds that she had reopened. 

Her head whipped around, her muscles shivering with fear. Someone’s here, GOTTA HIDE!

She curled up in the corner trying to steady her breathing. Every puff of air scraped at her throat. 

“LEO!” 49 heard someone whisper shout. Leo? That doesn’t sound like one of the scientists.

She tensed as a figure stepped out of the shadows. It was a turtle, like her. A mutant, like her. Hope soared through her. Brothers are here!

His skin was lime green with bright yellow stripes along his arms and red stripes near his eyes. The other thing that stood out was the blue bandanna over his face. The long tails swayed as he darted up to her cell.  

She practically felt giddy with happiness as he grabbed the bars, his three fingered hands wrapping around the cool metal. Three fingers, like her. “Are you okay?” He whispered, a worried look on his face. 

… Worried for me? Why?

Instead of replying, she cautiously crept up to him. Her limbs shaking with nerves and the effort of moving. She held her hand up to the bars, trembling. 

As she held it up, the turtle, Leo, pressed his hand against hers. Their three fingers matched perfectly, albeit 49’s hand was a bit smaller than his. 

“You’re like me,” 49 dared to say, her voice raspy and barely a whisper. 

His eyes widened. “Y-yeah.” He reached through the bars and squeezed her hand reassuringly, a tender smile spreading across his beak. “Don’t worry, I’ve got you.”

A small, happy grin found its way to her face as she stared at their matching hands. Her mind-numbing joy was interrupted as a hulking figure emerged from the darkness. 49 scrambled backwards, shock and fear seizing her heart.

“Leo,” the giant, spiky turtle growled, a beam of moonlight lighting up his red mask. “I thought we agreed this was supposed to be a stealth mission! You can’t just run off like that.”

Leo glared at the turtle, his brow furrowed. “I know, but I couldn’t just leave her!” His worried gaze flicked back to her. “Aw man, look Raph, you scared her. Just chill out, okay?”

The turtle, who 49 could assume was Raph, turned to her, an anxious look on his face. “Raph’s sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you, we’re here to help.”

Oh, right. Gram-Gram had said brothers, as in plural. Are they both my brothers?

In 49’s distraction, two other turtles had revealed themselves. One sported a purple bandanna with drawn on eyebrows and a hunk of metal on his back, and the other wore an orange mask and had bright orange spots. 

“Donnie, can you get this open?” Leo whispered, turning to the purple-masked turtle.

“Scoff, of course,” he responded in a flat tone, leaning down and inspecting the tricky lock. 49 had seen it enough times to know that it required an intricate code to open. Then the turtle, Donnie, pulled out a bo staff and made something out of thin air, the marking on his shoulders lighting up with a violet light.

49 watched with awe as bright purple light, mystics she would realize, ran up his staff. 

Multiple long, spiky things appeared at the end of the wooden staff. Letting out a hum of approval, he started tweaking with the lock. 

“Hi!” Someone whispered, catching her attention. She turned her head to see the smallest turtle pressing his face against the cage, his eyes wide. “I’m Mikey!” 49 locked gazes with him. He had baby blue eyes, just like hers. “Hey, you’re a box turtle like me,” he yelped happily. 

Like me? Like me! Another smile crept up to her face. 

Mikey gave her a toothy grin back, eyes sparkling. It was weird, but 49 felt something in her soul, like something had clicked back into place. She suddenly felt connected to Mikey, feeling the need to protect him and be by him. She let out a small chirp, walking up and touching noses with him. 

He stared at her in surprise, the shock being replaced by wonder. Mikey clicked in response, nuzzling her face. 49 squeaked gleefully, returning the soft nudge with a purr. 

Now that the joy and happiness spreading through her muscles resided, she felt weak. Pulling away, Mikey gave her a troubled look. “Are you okay? You look pale.”

49’s legs couldn’t hold her up anymore. She sat on the ground, a harsh wheeze escaping her throat. Her vision grew blurry.

“Donnie, get this thing open, now!” Leo suddenly snapped, turning to the purple-masked turtle. 49 flinched at his harsh tone, her body starting to tremble with exhaustion. Her head was pounding.

“I’m almost done!” Donnie hissed back, still working on the lock. “Just give me a second, Leo.”

They started arguing, their voices raising. “Guys,” Raph snarled. “Be quiet! This was supposed to be a stealth only mission.”

All 49 wanted to do was curl up and go to sleep, weariness dragging at her eyelids, but slow clapping snapped her awake. Her brothers froze, turning towards the sound. A man stepped out of the shadows, a sly smile on his face.

“Well, well, well,” Bishop said in a teasing voice. “What have we here? More mutant turtles?” His smile turned eerily wide, his hands falling down to his sides. “So nice of you to join us.”

Next Chapter:

Previous Chapter:

The Fifth Turtle

Chapter 2: Escape

“Don’t worry, Leo,” Donnie reassured him as they entered the tank. “His defeat will hurt his pride more than anything.”

He swallowed the lump of guilt in his throat and turned to Raph. “We need to get her to the lair immediately, step on it!”

Leo glanced down at the unconscious box turtle, his brow furrowed. I only hope we can get there in time.

CW: Loss of limb; not SUPER graphic, though

Leo’s blood boiled with rage. It sizzled beneath his scales, burning red hot. It had started as a small ember when he’d seen the News, then steadily heated when Donnie had started questioning his decisions. Then, seeing how fragile and weak the turtle was, the fire had flared hotter, Leo had thought that was his limit, but no. Seeing Bishop, the one that had done this, made it explode.

Even though he wanted to cut into this man with his katanas, he kept his cool composure, the fire burning beneath his skin. At his voice and the sight of him, the turtle froze, her eyes wide with wild fear. She was shaking, and Leo could tell by just the sight of her, that she hadn’t had a good meal or a cup of water in days. 

Oh how Leo wanted to punch that smirk off Bishop’s face.

“I see you’ve met my subject,” Bishop said calmly, a frown on his face. “However, unfortunately I can’t let you take it.”

Leo ground his teeth, anger burning his heart. “IT?!” He snarled, pointing a katana at Bishop. “You can’t treat her like a science experiment!” 

Raph put a heavy hand on his shoulder. “Calm down, Leo. I’m mad too, but anger won’t help her right now.”

Leo glanced at the shivering box turtle, she cowered in the corner, the chains holding her hands and feet together jingling. Even though Leo hated agreeing with his older brother, Raph was right. He turned his attention back to Bishop.

“Yes, I can,” Bishop continued, unfazed by the sider’s outburst. “I can treat it as I please. Mutants are dangerous monsters that need to be captured and contained.”

The trembling box turtle froze as the scientist turned his gaze back to her, a wicked smile on his face. “Isn’t that right, subject zero-zero-four-nine?”

“I got it!” Donnie’s triumphant yell shattered the eerie silence that followed Bishop’s question.

“Raph, grab her!” Leo called as Bishop’s face contorted with anger. He darted forward towards Bishop, fury propelling him. The scientist barely dodged his strike, anger turning into fear as one of Leo’s katana lodged into the wall where his head was. 

Bishop quickly pulled something out of his coat. Leo threw his remaining katana to the side and teleported to it as he barely missed the bullet that ripped through the place he had been standing.

Terror froze the fire running through his veins. Bishop aimed again. Leo teleported to the sword stuck in the wall, but Bishop was ready. Leo wasn’t fast enough to completely dodge, instead it grazed his shoulder, leaving a large, burning gash.

Mikey yelled his name. “Leo!” Golden chains wrapped around Bishop, causing the scientist to drop his weapon. Bishop screamed in pain as the burning chains dug into his skin.

Donnie grabbed his uninjured shoulder. “Leo, are you okay?”

The slider shook off his twin and pointed his katana at Bishop’s neck. “I’ll make sure you never hurt mutants again,” he snarled, letting Bishop feel the cold steel under his chin.

“Leo, stop!” Raph ordered, but Leo didn’t hear him, until a weak chirp cut through his murderous thoughts. He let out a chirp in response, turning towards the noise. The box turtle shivered in Raph’s arms, her eyes closed.

“S-she fainted,” Raph told Leo, his voice trembling. “We need to get her to the Med Bay.”

Leo hesitated, the overwhelming urge to protect her rising in her chest. She let out an answering click, subconsciously squirming closer to him. His heart melted.

“... Okay,” he said, a smile returning to his face. It turned to a frown as he faced Bishop again. “We’ll let you go if you promise to leave us alone.”

Bishop glared at him, a scowl on his face. Leo pressed his katana against the scientist’s neck, blood welling at the shallow cut. “Promise,” Leo hissed, a threat in his voice.

“... Fine,” Bishop relented, disgust clear in his eyes. “I’ll… leave you alone.”

Leo nodded. “Good. Mikey, put him down.”

Mikey flashed him a smile, a glint in his eyes. “My pleasure.” He dumped Bishop to the ground, causing the scientist to land on his head. “Ow!”

The slider cut a portal with his katana, ignoring the burning injury on his shoulder. As Raph was about to step forward, Leo saw a flash of silver out of the corner of his eye. The blue-masked turtle reacted immediately, throwing his katana and teleporting. He quickly disarmed the gun that Bishop had picked up again with his sword.

Bishop let out an agonized scream as his weapon landed on the ground next to him with a wet thump. Leo froze, horror rising up in his chest as realized what he just did.

The scientist wailed with pain and fury as he clutched his wrist, blood trickling between his fingers. “My hand!” His fierce gaze locked onto the slider. “You,” he spat, pure venom in his voice. “I swear I will never forget this.”

Leo felt like he was going to throw up. “Nardo,” Donnie whispered, putting a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Let’s go.” 

He gently steered his twin towards his brothers and the box turtle. Leo followed blindly, shock and disgust making his limbs stop working. He knew that Bishop deserved that, and tenfold, for what he did to the small box turtle, but he still felt sick. 

“Don’t worry, Leo,” Donnie reassured him as they entered the tank. “His defeat will hurt his pride more than anything.”

He swallowed the lump of guilt in his throat and turned to Raph. “We need to get her to the lair immediately, step on it!”

Leo glanced down at the unconscious box turtle, his brow furrowed. I only hope we can get there in time.

———————————————————————

They got home as fast as they could, accidentally knocking that one guy’s groceries to the ground, and then some. Leo did all he could for her in the tank, patching up the wounds on her arms, treating the sores left by the chains on her wrists and ankles, and taking a closer look at the cracks in her shell and plastron.

The main thing that she needed was fluids, but they only had that in the Med Bay. “Will she be okay?” Mikey asked, his voice quivering. 

Leo glanced at him. “Only time will tell, but she should be fine with some food, water, and sleep.”

He didn’t want to tell his little brother that if she didn’t get some now, she could die. 

“Are we almost there?!” he called, trying to keep panic from creeping into his voice.

“We’re here!” Donnie answered, the tank screeching to a halt. Leo quickly cut a portal to the Med Bay and hurried through. 

“Raph, follow me,” the slider ordered, quickly prepping the bed. Raph gently laid her down, his mask creased with worry. The box turtle whimpered as her skin touched the unfamiliar sheets.

Leo grabbed his IV kit, feeling a bit bad that they only had two sizes of needles and catheters, one big for Raph and the other normal size for them. He noticed that they were low on supplies and made a mental note to go on a supply run soon. 

Leo quickly washed his hands and pulled on a pair of their homemade plastic gloves. He found the vein and gently swabbed the area to clean it. 

“I’m here!” Donnie yelped, skidding into the room. “What do you need?”

“Raph, go tell Dad everything,” Leo told the snapper, he then faced his twin. “Don, help me set up the IV bag. Then remove any bubbles in the IV line as I insert it.”

Time seemed to drift by as Leo focused on his task. He carefully secured the IV in place after he finished, letting out a sigh of relief. 

“Donnie, can you keep watching out for bubbles?” Leo asked, throwing his gloves away. “I just need to hook up the heart monitor so we can keep an eye on her.”

Donnie hummed in response. “Okay, fearless leader.”

“Oh, come on D,” Leo said with a smirk. “I’m not that serious yet.”

The softshell only snorted in response.

Leo rolled his eyes, opening the drawer where they kept their heart monitor and picking it up. He attached it, wincing at the sight of the metal plate and cracks on her plastron. 

He frowned as her heart rate showed up, it was lower than he would have liked. Hopefully, now that she got some fluids, she would start to get healthier. 

Leo wanted to fully examine the cracks on the back of her shell, but it would be a bad idea to move her with the IV in. Donnie’s quiet voice came from behind him. “Where do you think she got those cracks from?”

Leo swore that his twin could read his mind sometimes. “I don’t know,” he admitted, leaning over to get a closer look at her cracked plastron. “They look old. It also looks a bit messed up, like it healed naturally.”

“That makes sense,” Donnie agreed, his eyebrows furrowed. “Mutants can’t really get help unless they go to the Hidden City. That must mean that she’s not a yokai.”

Leo nodded. “Look at that metal plate,” the slider said, pointing to it. “W-we already know that she was probably experimented on, and you saw how cruel Bishop looked. So, there are a few possibilities, but I have a good guess at what happened…”

His voice trailed off, leaving a tense silence. 

“Yes?” Donnie asked, his foot tapping impatiently. 

“... Vivisection,” Leo admitted, ignoring the horrified expression on his twin’s face. “Or a surgery of some kind, you never know.”

A noise caught his attention. A yelp and a crashing sound came from outside the door. 

Leo sighed. “Mikey, come on in. We know you’re there.” The box turtle’s round face peeked around the corner, a nervous look in his eyes. 

His eyes immediately went to Leo’s shoulder. “You should patch that up,” the orange-masked turtle commented, crossing his arms and narrowing his eyes. “I can help.”

Leo glanced at the wound, feeling surprised. “I actually forgot about that,” he admitted, picking up the leftover bandages and alcohol.

“Let’s go,” Mikey chirped, grabbing his hand and starting to lead him to the door. 

“Uh, can’t I just do it here?” Leo suggested, dodging his little brother’s attempts. 

“Nope!” Mikey replied, an authoritative look in his eyes. “I want to help! Also, I need to have a little talk with you.”

Oh no.

“I-I think I’m alright!” Leo said nervously, adding a chipper tone to his voice. “No need to talk! Everything’s alright! Why would anything be wrong? There’s nothing wrong here…” He stopped when he realized that he had been babbling. 

Mikey’s smile grew even wider. “Just come with me. You’ll never escape Doctor Feelings.”

“Fine,” the slider grumbled, allowing his little brother to drag him out of the Med Bay. “Keep an eye on her!” Leo threw over his shoulder as they left.

Mikey led him through the living room and down the hallway, Raph giving him a confused look as they passed. They entered the box turtle’s room and sat on his hammock. Leo sat down on an orange bean bag and started to bandage his shoulder. 

The orange-masked turtle whipped out a pair of round glasses and put them on. He then sat cross-legged and interlaced his fingers, leaning forward. “We need to talk,” Mikey said, putting on a serious face.

Leo finished and set the medical supplies aside, turning to his little brother and raising an eye ridge. “About what?” 

“You know what,” Mikey hissed. “You shouldn’t feel bad about Bishop!”

Leo froze, turning his head to the side and breaking eye contact. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he lied. 

Mikey glared at him. “Stop ignoring it!” His face softened a bit as he relaxed his posture. “Leo, it’s not your fault. It was an accident. He would’ve shot one of us if you hadn’t disarmed him.”

The slider stared down at his lap. “Mikey, I cut off his hand for Pizza Supreme’s sake!!! How is that an accident?!” he spat, squeezing his eyes shut.

Mikey sighed. “It. Was. An. Accident. You didn’t mean it. Even though he did deserve it…” he muttered. “But that’s not the point! The point is you saved us and you saved her.”

Leo still couldn’t meet his brother’s eyes. “I guess…”

“I know you still feel bad,” the box turtle continued. “Heck, I would too! But right now, we need to focus on that poor, sick turtle. So I’ll say this once more, it was an accident, and you did not mean it.”

Leo took a deep breath, before lifting his head and facing his brother. “… Okay.”

Mikey smiled, hopping down and pulling the slider to his feet. “Okay, now repeat after me: It was an accident, I didn't mean it.”

“It was an accident, I didn't mean it,” Leo repeated, a grin returning to his face. “It was an accident, I didn't mean it.”

Mikey gave him an excited hug, his eyes bright. “Yes!” he whooped. “Now, let’s get back to our new sister!”

They pulled apart and Leo walked back to the Med Bay with a new spring in his step. “… Bishop did deserve it,” he whispered just before they stepped in. 

Mikey nodded, giving the blue-masked turtle a high five. “I totally agree.”

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