Tmntober 2024 - Tumblr Posts

I've decided to try my hand at @traumas-tmntober-2024

Day One: An Old Favourite

La Primera Telenovela

Word Count: 1064

If you had asked Leonardo what came to mind when thinking of an apocalypse before the night The Krang ripped open the sky then he would have spoken of battles and death mid combat. The agonising pain of loss wouldn’t have been something his teen self would have dwelled on. Now after years of war, Leo had a different sense of loss. He wouldn't think a simple show would have him shedding long held tears. OR Leonardo finds the finale he and Splinter bonded over so many years ago before The Kraang invaded. Leo gets to share that painful favourite hobby with his pseudo-son. (Warning: Author is British and refuses to use American spellings for sanity's sake.)

If you had asked Leo what came to mind when thinking of an apocalypse before the night the Krang ripped open the sky then he would have spoken of battles and death mid combat. The agonising pain of loss wouldn’t have been something his teen self would have dwelled on. Now after years of war, Leo had a different sense of loss.

Archiving things was difficult in the apocalypse. Donnie had tried originally to save things to a personal cloud but that got too difficult to maintain and was needed for more important things and he eventually got too busy upgrading equipment for them and their sister bases to be able to focus on remembering the past. That left external devices and drives.

One of these drives was on Splinter’s small shrine. They had already had to move shelters many times but they were usually able to stay for a couple of months meaning they had the liberty to allow their father’s belongings to be displayed. Leo always kept a sack nearby to dump the shrine into if they have to get up and go… again.

Leo wasn’t sure what possessed him that night. He should have been sleeping. They had an important mission in the morning. They didn’t have unlimited electricity so wasting this tablet’s charge on this was truly wasteful and self indulgent but he couldn’t help it. He loaded up the saved episode of the finale of the first telenovela he and Splinter had watched together. Adverts and all.

This was their favourite telenovela even as he’d grown and had widened the list of spanish dramas they had watched together, they always returned to the first and binged it annually before the apocalypse. A truly golden piece of media and easily his favourite despite the awful writing and the admittedly bad cinematography, even for the time. There were some scenes where you could even see the full crew during tracking shots.

He let himself indulge in Maria’s story as she murdered her ex-fiance Alejandro and ran into her mother as she tried to hide the body. More beloved characters appeared reminding him of the old arcs from that season and the ones to follow in the following. Suddenly the screen had distorted with drops of water and he instinctively looked at the pipes on the ceiling praying that they weren’t yet again leaking and wasting the incredibly limited water they had.

That’s when he felt it. There were tears on his face, they were so silent he hadn’t even noticed the salty waste had escaped. He turned the screen off and used his cape to wipe the screen dry whilst forcing the tears to stay in when he heard the familiar pitter patter of his charge’s footsteps approaching: Casey Jones Junior.

“Master Leonardo?”

Leo cringed. He didn’t feel like the Master he was meant to be but he hid that behind a smile and lifted an arm up for the pre-teen boy to crawl into. He hugged the boy tight and didn’t ask why he was up, like he had many times in the past. He did so especially after Cassandra’s passing but it often just led to unbridled fury that didn’t belong on the child’s face. He had already suffered so much loss but he always offered to listen if he needed it.

Honestly, his need for comfort after such nightmare’s could be due to anything from the war although they did tend to find it took more to shake the ‘apocalypse babies’ but also found it harder for them to cope with what did. Casey often just needed a firm hug and someone who he was sure would watch over him to keep the nightmares away but he never did go to sleep straight away.

“Hey Case, wanna see what this is?”

Leonardo waited for the tired nod before he turned the screen back on and rewound the episode. He spent the next 10 minutes explaining what a telenovela is and the plot of the season previewing this episode before playing it.

This time he got his entertainment watching Casey’s expression light up. He didn’t get to watch many video feeds and the most common one was that of the security cameras that Donatello monitored. He paused the video every time Casey wanted clarification. Leo hadn’t taught Casey much Spanish. There wasn’t a huge need to be rich in multiple languages beyond how to have basic conversations and communicate directions and supplies. Explaining why Jose and Rosemary were robbing Maria’s childhood house excited much joy, however.

It didn’t take long though to see Casey’s eyes drooping and struggling to focus on the finale, no longer asking if the grocery store he had seen was real or why there were full homes for just a couple of people. He was quiet and Leo waited until he was snoring softly before he turned the tablet off and took Casey back to bed.

He would never watch a telenovela with his father again. He would never get to hear his father’s rambles about why Penelope was the worst character in the series. He would never get to hold his dad’s hand as the climactic monologue started and they revealed the plot twist they had already rewatched countless times over. He would never have his pops there to give him advice. He’d never have his dad’s hug again and they were already rare.

Leonardo hated that he missed his dad’s death. He never got his moment to say goodbye. His father had to pass without knowing if he was going to be okay. All because of that stupid portal. He hoped from the grave that his dad’s spirit got to see him become a resistance leader that would make him proud. Be proud of the kid they had all practically adopted after Cassandra went out fighting, like the warrior she was.

He hoped Splinter knew how much he missed hanging out with him and loved him. He hoped he hadn’t lost his love with that stupid stunt.

He placed the drive back on the shrine and put the tablet back into the room they used to plan missions and hold important decision meetings: needing the distinction so they didn’t have arguments everywhere around the shelter.

He would try to get some sleep but the ghosts of the past may haunt him all night.

I really wanted to try doing a fic a day for a month and I've decided today is the day. I originally based this off of an idea @agalactichalo gave me. "A used to be shared hobby between you and someone who died." Which immedietly got the cogs in my little lizard brain turning and I just had to!

Hope everyone who reads this enjoys it!!

Donnie Data Collection!!

Day 2 of @traumas-tmntober-2024 :Isolation

Embers of a Shattered Legacy

Word Count: 1347

Hamato Yoshi let Oroku Saki destroy his life. Burnt away is his legacy as he rots in his loneliness. His clan, his livelihood, his budding family. All smothered under ashes and blood.

OR

Splinter wallows and mourns the past but new beginnings are afoot.

Hamato Yoshi thought he was turning into a spiteful, bitter, young man. Well he was pushing that now, growing older by the day, an entire legacy blew past as ashes in the wind.

He had long lost his brother. Saki, his beloved brother, was a monster. He wasn't a fool. He certainly wasn't wise but he knew he noticed they had grown apart as of late. No, not as of late. Now they were mortal enemies but truly, he could see signs even as teens when they'd started drifting and it pained him.

Memories of his sensei scolding them for roughhousing instead of sparring properly flooded in front of his eyelids. Thinking back on the countless times they had fought he had never taken Saki's worries and anger sincerely. He had just brushed it off as silly and childish: insignificant. He put his brother down and had pushed him away to the path that had to have led him to The Foot.

The anguish was almost as painful as the loneliness. Yoshi didn't like being alone. Not the physical sense of being alone, that was something he could even find solace and enjoyment in. No. What he was talking about was the bitter, skin tearing, ear aching, foul smelling, gut punch of there being no one. No one to give love to. No one to share soft moments with. No one for him to sit quietly and listen to anymore.

Yoshi was utterly alone for the first time. Even as a kid he could only remember being surrounded by his clan. He always had someone to answer his inquisitions and always had someone to guide him or his brother or friends to connect with on a deeper level. Being so surrounded and smothered made being alone a luxury yet now that same haven was the materials of his cage.

His loss of self may have been tied to his clan but he could survive that if he had his family. His sweet Tang Shen and Miwa. His life partner and precious daughter. The calm yet powerful nature and blooming fire to his cold rocky base.

Yoshi missed his fiancé. His Shen. The girl he’d been enamoured with since he was a foolish teen and who had liked him back. He reminisced on the days where he would break so many wooden boards practising kicks and punches that the floor was covered in splinters. Shen had given him the nickname Splinter after that but now he had no one to share such a silly nickname with.

He had no one to talk poetry or philosophy or couplets with. His dear, sweet, intelligent Shen was enriched in culture and always wanted to be in a deep intellectual conversation and Yoshi was never happier than then. Yoshi would never get to see his beautiful partner teach his little Miwa her first words. How to read. About her heritage and culture and about her beloved philosophies.

His Miwa. His beautiful, bouncing baby girl. Torn from his arms and the world as the fire consumed the house she was meant to grow up in. The house that was meant to hold her siblings. They hadn't just wanted Miwa. Tang was adamant on at least 5 pairs of feet running around.

Yoshi had years of plans and hopes and dreams that had burnt with his girls. He lost it all. Staying in Japan was too heart-breaking. Seeing his homeland through eyes that knew his kid never got to see them, that his late partner was never to bear witness to them again was too painful to even exist in.

Instead he fled to New York City, United States of America. Shen had always wanted to visit America. One of the reasons Yoshi had put off seeing it was because he knew Shen would most definitely want to move there. She had an obsession with the culture there and most of her literature had expanded about the Americas in recent years. Now it was just another regret. Something he stopped her from doing in her short life.

Touching down on the American soil a week ago was a blur to him already. He had made the decision hastily as his life moved in a blurred slow motion. He was as dead as his family for those few weeks after Saki had fought him in their home. He'd never had more regret than when he felt the crimson of Shen's blood coat him and allow for the smoke to stick in thick clumps on it. Tainting it. It burned despite being just blood.

He hadn't even registered what had happened at the time. He and Saki had been fighting in his home and wrecking it. It sent Splinter into a rage and he let Saki's words anger him further. He hadn't even noticed the lit candle they had knocked until it was too late and the home he had so lovingly built up was engulfed within the flames.

Tang had thrown herself in front of him and all he could think of was why. He was weak to let the woman he loved die for him. To let her murderer escape as the supports gave out and buried him as he shielded her body.

He had blacked out after that and had woken up outside of their home. His sweet Shen and Miwa still trapped inside as the flames continued to burn the dwindling remains.

He had not even stayed long enough for the firefighters to put out the fire. He had travelled to the nearest town and slept on the street, unable to pay for any accommodation right then. He hadn't stayed long enough for their bones to be dug out of the ashes for their burials of which he hadn't stayed for either.

Instead he let those last two weeks in Japan go by quickly. Besides meeting with Shen's family to tell them the news and withdrawing the remains of the Hamato fund, all he had managed to take with him were a few keepsakes and family heirlooms.

On his last day before his loneliness cemented into his bones and he left for America, he went to Shen's favourite place in the forest and buried her now withered flower which had survived the burning miraculously. It was his way of remembering his partner's livelihood and how he'd tucked it behind his baby's ear, her hair just having developed enough to cover her head entirely. He buried the flower and laid their souls to rest with it.

Now he was alone. Sitting in a dingy, cheap apartment in New York with rattling pipes and the deeply ingrained smell of mildew. On the wall was a pet shop poster. They were holding a fundraiser and had many animals for sale to support a couple of charities.

That poster had blown in his face whilst he walked alone to the cornerstore for the bare essentials a couple of days ago. He had since decided to do something good, support others whilst becoming a dad to a couple of reptiles. Shen had always been fascinated by the creatures and always spoke about getting some. Snakes and lizards but especially turtles. He knew more about them than he thought he ought to as he lovingly listened to her ramblings.

He was currently setting a large tank up on the small table. It looked comical but was sustainable for a few baby turtles. Shen would never forgive him if he let himself waste away and mourn. If she was around she would have smacked him up the head and talked some sense into him. The thought had the corners of his mouth tugging unwillingly into a smile.

He was going to be a dad somehow but no one could ever replace Shen. Maybe when he was ready he'd adopt but for now, he'd father some turtles until they passed. Pet turtles typically lived much shorter lives than their counterparts anyways.

It'd just be another chapter in his life.

Maybe he wasn't so bitter yet.

Hi!! So I enjoyed writing this so much. Splinter does not get enough attention and there are so few Splinter-centric fanfics nowadays, its unreal!! I really wanted to take this in a different way than you might first interpret it. The pure mental and physical isolation Splinter must have felt when his entire family and life went down the drain must've been huge and I wanted to capture that while throwing some Yoshi x Shen headcanons in there :3

I hoped this was a good read!!

I forgot to on my last post but a huge thanks to my best mates for Beta-reading these and keeping me focused. Love you all ♡♡

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!!

Day 4 of @traumas-tmntober-2024 Desperation

When in Doubt, Hug a Mikey

Raph didn't understand Donnie and as the oldest, his little brother's not functioning is his failure. Raph can't handle failure so he lashes out. It's not a recipe to repeat.

OR

ROTT kids (9, 8, 8, and 7) don't yet quite grasp Donnie's autism and Raph ends up shouting at him at the worst time possible and he runs off. Raph then has to navigate the sewers as guilt weighs over him to find his brothers.

Word Count: 1614

Raph was fine, he thought, his tail scratching against the concrete, his teeth chattering nervously when they didn't catch his lip. He didn't like being alone and it was just dangerous to leave Mikey behind as he searched for the twins. Mike was tucked in his shell and dozing in Raph's arms, squished as close as plastron on plastron could get.

His breath fogged in a thick cloud. The cold of the sewers seeped into his bones and the walls surrounding him seemed like they were closing in. Every echo only cemented just how lost he was. Even the scratching of Raph's scales on Mikey's carapace as he rubbed it to keep his baby brother warm sounded ominous and unfamiliar.

The guilt gnawed at him. He could still hear his own voice from hours ago, cutting through the air like a blade.

Thoughts flooded him from just before sundown where Donnie had refused to come and eat the food Dad had left out. Raph had taken it upon himself to make Don come and eat his food. He hadn't known how bad of a day he was already having and had only made it worse.

Donnie had sat hunched in the corner, hands pressed tightly over his ears, his glasses discarded and broken on the floor. He had retreated into his shell—both figuratively and, to some extent, literally. His breath was ragged, as if the weight of the world was pressing down on him.

Raph paced in front of him, his fists clenched at his sides. His voice was already raised, trembling with frustration and hurt.

"Donnie, stop acting like this! You think ignoring us is gonna make anything better? You think hiding away is the answer?" Raph’s tail thumped against the ground with every step, a physical manifestation of his barely controlled rage.

Donnie didn’t respond. He only tightened his grip over his ears, shutting everything out, his eyes squeezed shut as if trying to block out the world.

Before Raph could shout again, Leo stepped in, his hand on Raph’s shoulder.

“Raph,” Leo said quietly, his voice calm but firm. "That’s enough."

Raph jerked away from Leo’s touch, turning on him with blazing eyes. "Stay out of this, Leo. You don’t get it!"

"I do get it," Leo replied, his voice unwavering, but there was a softness in his little brother's eyes. "You're angry because you're scared. You're scared for him. But yelling at him isn’t going to help."

Raph’s chest heaved, his fists still clenched at his sides, trembling with the effort of holding back. "You don’t know how hard it is, Leo! Donnie won’t listen, he won’t talk to us, and I—" His voice broke for a second, raw emotion spilling through the cracks. "I don’t know how to help him."

Leo’s gaze softened further. "I know you’re trying, Raph. We all are. But this isn’t about you. Donnie’s not shutting us out because he wants to hurt you."

"I know that!" Raph snapped, but it sounded hollow, almost like he was trying to convince himself. "But what am I supposed to do? Just not help him? He won't eat, Leo!"

Leo took a step closer, his voice dropping to something more understanding. "You don’t have to do nothin’. You just have to stop trying to fix everything with your fists and anger." He glanced at Donnie, who was still curled up, barely holding himself together. "Right now, he needs us to just be there. Not to force him to do anything."

Raph growled in frustration, running a hand over his face. "Really? That’s your answer? That’s all you’ve got?" He turned away, pacing again, his anger bubbling up, but now it was directed inward as much as outward. "I’m supposed to just sit back and let him fall apart?"

Leo’s voice remained calm, but there was an edge to it now. "Raph, he’s already struggling. You can’t fight that for him. It can't be yelled at or beaten up. What you can do is be there when he’s ready."

Raph stopped in his tracks, his shoulders tense. His eyes flicked to Donnie, then back to Leo. His voice came out low, dangerous. "You think I haven’t tried that? I’m always there. But every time I reach out, he pulls away. He acts like he doesn’t need us. Like he doesn’t need me."

Leo's expression shifted slightly, a hint of sympathy deepening in his eyes. He understood now what Raph wasn’t saying directly. This wasn’t just about Donnie shutting down. It was about Raph feeling helpless, useless even, in the face of something he couldn’t control or fix.

"You’re not the problem, Raph," Leo said gently, "And you’re not useless. Donnie’s always done stuff we don’t fully understand. But pushing him harder only makes him withdraw more. Remember?"

Raph opened his mouth to argue, but then closed it, biting down on his lip, his snaggletooth almost cutting in. His eyes flicked again to Donnie, who still hadn’t moved. The sight of his brother, so small and broken, made something twist painfully in his chest. He was scared. t

Terrified, even. And he hated how small he felt even when he was the biggest and strongest. But the more he pushed, the more it felt like Donnie was slipping away.

Leo watched him, his voice softening even further. "We can’t force him to open up, Raph. He’ll.. snap out of it when he’s ready. But right now, you need to give him space. We're practically smothering him with togetherness right now." He joked poorly.

Raph’s breath hitched, his voice dropping to almost a whisper. "What if he doesn’t come back? What if we lose him?"

Leo’s face softened but he remained calm. "We won’t lose him. We just have to trust him to find his way through this, and be there when he does."

Raph looked at Leo, his eyes searching for some kind of answer, something that would make all of this make sense. But there wasn’t anything, only the uncertainty that came with watching someone you love struggle, knowing you couldn’t fight the battle for them. Couldn't shield them: take the punches. Just forced to wait.

Before Raph could say anything more, there was a sudden movement from Donnie. He stood up abruptly, his hands still covering his ears, his eyes wide and unfocused. Without warning, he bolted toward the door, stumbling in his panic, barely able to see without his glasses.

"Donnie, wait!" Raph shouted, his heart leaping into his throat. But Donnie was already gone, the door slamming behind him.

Leo reacted immediately, sprinting after Donnie without hesitation. "Raph, stay with Mikey! I’ll find him!"

But Raph stood frozen for a moment, his heart racing, his mind spinning with guilt, fear, and frustration. His anger at Leo, at Donnie, at himself, all felt meaningless now.

When he finally scooped up Mikey, the weight of everything felt like it was crushing him. He had let his temper get the best of him, again. And Donnie was gone.

Now, as the slow hours of night stretched into dawn, Raph trudged through the sewers, his limbs heavy with fatigue and guilt. Every shadow felt like it could be Donnie or Leo, but they weren’t. He had been searching for what felt like an eternity.

The cold seeped into his bones, each breath a reminder of how long they’d been gone. He could only hope Leo had found Donnie by now, that maybe they were huddled up somewhere safe. But there was no sign. Only the occasional plip of water and his own heartbeat drumming in his ears.

He stopped to catch his breath, shifting Mikey slightly so he wasn’t as squished. He stared down the tunnel, difficult even with his enhanced vision.

“I’m sorry, Donnie,” Raph whispered, though no one could hear him. The weight of his own words felt like they might crush him. He hadn’t meant any of it. He was just scared. He didn’t know how to fix things. Donnie's the one who fixed things! For the most part.

Suddenly, a sound – a faint shuffle in the distance, barely audible over the drip of the sewers. Raph’s heart skipped a beat.

“Mikey,” he said, more to steady himself than to wake his brother, “I think we’re close.”

He trudged forward, muscles tense, his grip on Mikey’s shell tightening. He strained his ears, listening for any sign of life. It was hard to tell in the dark, but the movement grew louder, the sound of feet scuffling through water.

"Leo? Donnie?" His voice came out rough, desperate. He waited, holding his breath.

Then, a shadow appeared, moving toward him.

"Raph?" It was Leo’s voice, weary but unmistakable. Relief washed over him like a wave.

"Leo!" Raph’s legs moved on their own, carrying him toward the shadow. As he got closer, he could see Leo, soaked, exhausted, but standing upright. His face was a mask of determination, but beneath it, there was relief too.

And there, behind Leo, was Donnie, eyes red, trembling, but alive.

Raph nearly collapsed, his chest heaving with emotion. He wanted to say something, to apologise, but all that came out was a choked sob.

Leo was the first to speak, his voice soft. "We found him, Raph. He’s okay. Let’s all go home." His grin was clear even in the near pitch black tunnel. “Before Dad notices it's been too quiet.”

Donnie had given up fighting and in fact let Raph hold him gently, Leo now holding the still asleep Mikey. The blubbering was just starting to quiet down when Leo quipped. “What are you crying for? You know I always find my twin.”

Hiiii!! Thanks for reading this.

Today's prompt was difficult because I had so many half baked idead and couldn't commit to any one. I decided to do another Rise fic too even though most of the ideas ended up with 2012 like the desperation felt in the early s3 or with Mikey in Into Dimension X.

I decided I'd written a lot of hard hitting angst lately and wrote something eadier to figest with a much fluffier ending and giving Raph his much needed spotlight. He's underrated by the community!!!

I'd love comments both good and critical of my work. I struggle with dialogue and making the turtles sound the ages I've decided so any help on that front would be greatly appreciated!! Toodles!

Day 5 of @traumas-tmntober-2024 A Horrible Accident

Siege of the Dying

Leonardo is a proffesional field medic. His limits are still tested and a lot has to happen to fully snap. Explore twenty-one hours of how and why Leo loses all hope.

OR

Leo is a stressed medic, people die and he falls deeper into the slums as Mikey wont take care of himself or his ninpo.

CW: Includes depictions of blood, light gore, needles, syringes, IVs, oxygen masks, death, asphyxiation, medical malpractise, burns, improvised medications, partial decapitation, restraints and other medical equipment. Please do not read if any of this is triggering. Take care of yourselves.

Word Count: 3956

Hour Zero.

The base was running as smoothly as it could in the apocalypse. The squad's still recovering from earlier missions were asleep in their dorms. Squad 7 and 8 were up and about getting ready to be deployed. Those not needed but not resting were doing their other duties or finding ways to still have fun during the end of the world.

There was a sense of unease though. It had been over half an hour since Squad 6 were meant to have returned. That wasn't particularly unusual and it could even mean something good. Last time this had happened they'd found a huge bunker filled with survivors and taken them to the closer sister camp before returning with the supplies they'd scrounged up and traded for.

It was when an alarm suddenly blared that Leo realised it was not for anything good. That alarm was specialised as a medical emergency. He barely had a moment to stand up and leave the meeting room when the doors burst open and a haze of people swarmed in. Shit.

Hour One.

The alarm had been turned off but the noise was still overwhelming. Wails and screams clashed with heart monitors, vital readings and loud orders he could hear himself yelling. He was attaching an IV drip to a man with his leg up to his mid thigh torn off and burns all over him. Behind him he could hear the heart monitor flatline as one of his self-trained team administered CPR. The yokai kept going but Leo could already tell they weren't coming back.

Two new people were dragged in when He told someone to go grab Michelangelo. Kraang possession in the early stages: incomplete. He had them restrained by some of the soldiers from Squad 9 that were pulled in to help as he started to cauterise the man's leg in front of him, far too early for the pain medication to have settled in but he didn't have the time.

There were 6 people being treated for large stab and slash wounds and many if those and others had third and fourth degree burns and other lacerations that needed attending to and his small team of 4 wasn't enough. He quickly cut the remaining of the bottoms off of the poor man and called one of his medi-students over, handing them the tablet.

“I need to know if this man has any history listed with hypokalemia, kidney stones or other lactic acidosis. Anything that would oppose use of Ringer's lactate?” Leo started pulling the solution into the syringe. Even if this man did need another solution instead there were so many burn victims at least one of them could benefit from it.

“He does not, Master.”

There was no hesitation then when he injected the delirious man with the solution and grabbed the cold compresses one of his team must have retrieved. A lot of the skin was burned but very little seemed to be fourth degree. Most of it was third or blistering deeply in second degree which he could work with.

The screams of the Kraang-ified patients hadn't died down any and as more of the squad got dragged in, wails only amplified. Their limited supplies were sure to dwindle to unmanageable before everyone even got seen to. Leo would have to hold back on pain medication for a few of the patients with lesser issues so it would go further.

A female lizard yokai and a male bull yokai were taken out of the medical wing and the loud flatlines had been replaced with beating hearts. Their passings couldn't even be respected until they were out of sight before the resources were redistributed to those that still needed them. Another cruel truth of the apocalypse. Before he could zone out he bit his tongue hard and kept himself grounded.

Once he had directed one of his team to finish taking care of the man he moved onto a bear yokai that had just been hooked up to a heart monitor. He had his work cut out for him. He was no dermatologist so the face wounds he was about to treat were likely to scar deeply.

Hour Four.

Leo was now helping treat those affected by the Kraang. The Kraang possession hadn’t completed, but he could see the telltale bulging veins creeping up the patient’s neck, turning black under the skin. Their eyes flickered with unnatural yellow sclera. Part yokai, part Kraang, trapped in between. It was their job to bring them back to just yokai.

The warm orange glow of Mikey's ninpo was easy to work in. He'd been going for almost 3 hours, pushing the Kraang out of their heads but Leo was trying to help where he could. They had long been strapped down but IVs and sedations had managed to aid them slightly.

Currently, one of the IV’s drip chamber had filled with fluid so Leo tipped it upside down and tapped it as it reset. Something he deemed doable without any medical knowledge but his brother needed him as well so he took on menial tasks for the moment. His baby brother flickered in and out of his connection for a moment before glowing stronger. That kid knew how to make him worry.

Hour Seven

The smell started to make him dizzy. Blood, pus, chemicals, body odour and more all swirled in a poisonous concoction that threatened to distract him. The woman beneath his hands stared icily back at him. CPR had failed, the defibrillator had failed and now she was dead. She had departed.

How many more times could he close someone’s eyes, knowing they wouldn't open again? This woman had joked with him just two hours earlier when he was treating her a bit before she went into shock. Everyone that had departed today had stories of their lives, some even where Leo had interacted with them before they arrived at their deathbed. Like the bear yokai that helped in the kitchen. Leo’s hands shook, but he couldn’t afford weakness now. He had to press on.

He still didn't continue to act until one of his medics came up to him with a clipboard. “Master, could we spare some pain killers for Marilyn?”

Leo smiled softly. The young girl in front of him suddenly seemed 17 again and not 25. He knew how it felt to treat family and friends and wanted to give them care first and only the best but they couldn't afford that right now.

Supplies were dwindling faster than expected. Leo and his team were already forced to make gut-wrenching choices about who gets treatment and who doesn't. He was sure at least three deaths today was because of inadequate supplies and equipment and that reflected deeply on his soul. He placed a hand on her shoulder and lightly squeezed.

“I know you want them to go to your sister, Penny but we can't afford to give medicine to anyone who doesn't absolutely need any right now. It's-”

Leo was cut off when another of his medics came to grab him for an emergency surgery. He rushed over and assessed the situation and found out it was another sacrifice case. The patient had seen others suffering and had hidden a bullet wound for approximately 8 hours with just pressure, the wound having started healing but barely.

“Well, he's gonna have to use those pain killers. It's not severe enough to need anaesthesia.” Leo went to wash his hands quickly as the patient was injected and surgical tools were readied.

Once he returned the patient was crying less but still whimpering. Leo let one of his team pull his gloves on before dismissing them to check on the vomiting case on the other side of the medbay. He sighed before starting digging in with some tools to get the bullet out. There wasn't many bullet wounds they saw nowadays but friendly fire was still common enough that Leo let himself zone out and follow well practised steps without focusing too hard.

His back and arms and neck and feet and calves and- Okay, everything hurt and his pounding headache was only getting worse but he had responsibility. He had to lead his team and the resistance through this hiccup. This wasn't their first rodeo. It wasn't even in the double but instead triple digits of how many times they'd done this. They were a well oiled machine but it still took its toll on him.

Leo let the repetitive and familiar motions cloud the noise in his head and drown out the shrieks still echoing the far too cramped room.

Hour Nine.

The Kraang possession was spreading. There was a winged yokai of some kind that was closest to the original two that were possessed that they'd managed to infect. That had gone unnoticed until they had already started twitching and whispering erratically and had managed to infect two more.

That's when they had finally started quarantining patients. They had to fully ban visitors and barricade off the medbay doors. Before they did that though there were a few soldiers that volunteered to help the medics. They all had basic first aid knowledge and could certainly cut down work such as running around to get stuff or straining themselves surveilling peoples conditions as much so Leo accepted them onto the team. This increased his team from 4 medics to 4 medics and 5 helpers. They set up sheets and had the kraang infected squished into the farthest corner segregated off completely.

He was down a medic now as one had to stay in there to keep the infected down and to make sure Mikey was uninterrupted and wasn't a risk as he stretched his ninpo further. Reaching between five people was positively going to put great strain on his body, mind and mystics. Riley promised to keep his Master and peers safe. He trusted him.

After the scare though the rest of his team and himself worked on organising the medbay more into sectors and keeping them segregated. The moment of calm was a haven after the chaos so far. They took this down time as a moment to put the most at risk on the opposite side to the Kraang and further separated by curtains. The ones with serious injuries but were stable were next to the Kraang separated by a foot and doubled up curtains and opposing the Kraang were serious injuries that were still being treated and were unstable or too intermittent with stability.

That was all the space they had, they couldn't separate by burns or wounds or surgical concerns further. They had a small section where all the medical supplies were pushed to to create room for the patients. Leo sat against a tiny amount of spare wall they had and sunk to the ground. It hadn't lasted a full minute before he was needed for resuscitation.

Hour Thirteen.

Alarms blared and echoed off of his clinic's walls, it disturbed him and his patients. It filled them all with fear quickly and he had to stop many of the delirious injured from jumping at the siren. He was sure every single person in the resistance would wake from deep sleep at that alarm that let them know the Kraang were attacking the base. They'd either been found or were close to being discovered.

Leo wanted to curse the cruel God that was playing with their lives that had let this happen but he'd rather God hesitate before condemning him to hell. That was how Leo found himself stood in front of the poorly barricaded door being shouted at.

“What are you doing?” One soldier exclaimed.

“We need to go help them now!” Another added, “There won't be any injured or sick to heal if we just don't fight!”

“It's a matter of responsibility. I swore to the resistance.” Yet another exclaimed.

Leo pinched the bridge of his beak. If he let them go he'd only have five more to heal but if they each took out a hound dog before that that is almost a quarter of a usual hoard. They weren't weak either, they could handle themselves enough. He'd be really understaffed though. Why was he made the leader again?

“Alright. Four of you can go and one of you can stay and aid my team. Alice,” *He pointed at the hyena yokai. “You are to stay, you are my quickest runner and I need that right now. Help me take this barricade down.” He ordered.

Once the soldiers left they did a quick loop of everyone. Leo had to amputate someone's hand and resuscitate two people whilst they did rounds. He asked Alice to count up their remaining supply when she had a moment before he walked off.

Leo entered the Kraang-ified section. Mikey’s ninpo is powerful, that was a well-known fact but it’s also draining. By now he's been pushing himself for hours, and the physical toll starts to show. His eyes had sunken in deeply, his hair was matted and had thick clumps of grey among the jet black. A sheen of mystic that resembled sweat was bubbling on his skin which drew his eyes to Mikey's hands, trembling. He dismissed Riley to go check on other duties.

Leo grabbed his brother and manoeuvred him easily as he floated down. This seemed to break his concentration and he blinked his eyes open wearily.

“Hey, baby bro. You've been busy.” He grinned but it faltered as Mikey touched down and fell into his arms like dead weight. He'd collapsed in his arms and Leo almost panicked. He slowly lowered Mikey to the ground gently, aware of his shell so he didn't tip and raised his legs, propping them on a chair.

Mikey was out for just a few minutes before he woke up. Leo had fetched water and had pulled out a granola bar before he had woken up. “You back with me Mike?”

Mikey groaned.

“I hear ya. Take your time. You collapsed due to mystic exhaustion- I'm not happy about that b-t-dubs.”

“Wouldn't expect nothin’ less, bro.” It took a short while before Mikey sat up and gulped the water down and scarfed the homemade granola down like a dying man. Leo had seen many today alone. Leo shuffled on the uncomfortable floor and held an arm out, catching Mikey as he dove for it.

He laughed. “Thanks Mikey. I needed this.”

“You've been working so hard! You deserve it.”

“So have you, you little brat!”

Mikey stayed silent and looked up to the victims. They were quieter now, heavily sedated but still awake. A horrific purgatory they had to endure because their bodies couldn't handle anything stronger but the Kraang in them wasn't subdued by chemicals so weak.

“I think it's time we let them go. It hasn't taken you this long to heal an infected since you first tried.” Leo held a finger up as Mikey tried to interject. “I know it's your first time spreading it across five people at once but that's why I think it won't be worth it.”

Leo bundled Mikey into his arms and stood up. He looked towards the first two infected. “Any longer and they will be fully turned and you won't have the time nor energy to heal the other three left. You'd have to choose just one to save and that likely won't work and you won't be able to choose who deserves to live. Any way you slice it, at minimum, four people will be consumed today.”

“I can't just let them die, Leo! I can't!” Soothing circles were rubbed into his shell as he held back sobs. They were middle aged turtles who had seen this countless times. Mikey thought he had no reason to be crying.

“I know you want to save them, I do too but it'd be more merciful to put them out of their misery before the corrosion chemicals are needed to kill them. At least this way their family has a body to bury.”

Mikey let this information rattle in his skull. Just as he was about to protest further, a burst of chaos and ear bursting noise cascaded.

“I'll leave you for now but wait at least 20 minutes before doing any mystic mojo, okay?” Leo rushed as he set Mikey down.

Hour Sixteen.

Leo stepped over a sixteen year old soldier's leg as he rushed to a woman who was asphyxiating. They had long since stopped being able to make epi pens but they had managed to make piriton and piriteze. He forced 10 tablets down the human's throat and monitored her closely, whispering reassurances to her.

The wave of those injured was far too large for his medbay now. People were now in chairs and sprawled over the floor completely unorganised and haphazardly, clinging to each other in pain as blood poured everywhere. As he was waiting for the women to return to normal breathing the doors burst open again.

One of the commanders stumbled in, dragging her mangled arm behind her. 'We held them back... but barely.' Leo’s heart sank as another wave of the wounded flooded in after her.

The med bay was completely swamped and his tiny team was struggling. He poked his head into the quarantined Kraang area to grab his medic when he witnessed it. Just at that moment, the Kraang overpowered their restraints and slashed his medic's neck. It was so deep he could see the bone clearer than an x-ray.

He was dead. His corpse slumped to the floor. If we weren't already dead the snap his neck had upon impact would've done it. He dragged Mikey out of there, and let go of him to float around the medbay as he rushed to grab the tranq dart modified with that specialised corrosive acid he was often thanking more than God.

He injected it into the infected's blood stream with great difficulty but somehow he'd done it with no injury and minimal damage. He then grabbed some solutions with basic chemicals like potassium at a degree too high to function and injected it into the other kraang infected that hadn't yet been consumed.

The life peacefully drained out of the second but the skin was starting to corrode of the first. It was a gruesome sight as it mangled with his medic's blood. He decided to just let the rest go and call time of death. They were too far gone to survive and they'd suffer greatly if by some miracle they did.

Leo had exited the quarantine to find Mikey patching Donnie up from presumably a slash wound. It'd likely only be another fifteen-to-twenty minutes before he'd be discharged and forced to leave the slummed clinic. Leo gave them a curt nod before addressing a few others to clear up the bodies so he could use the space to treat others.

He stared off as he thought back to how he reacted. He tried to justify what he did. It wasn't retaliation, it was logical. It was survival. There was no ethical debate needed. This wasn't one of the things that made Leo an awful person. Yes the young boy he cared for had been killed but he had acted in best faith to his now deceased patient. He wasn't showing malpractice with bias- Hah! Even if he was, who was gonna fire him?

The weight of it all felt like it would crush him. Another dead body. Another life he couldn’t save. Was this all they were doomed to now? A slow march toward extinction? That was a thought that he kept having over the years and it only felt more and more true. They weren't resisting the Kraang to save the Earth. They were simply fighting extinction. It was a bitter thought that would have had Raoh slap him around the back of the head for were he here.

Hour Nineteen.

Leo was close to losing it. Twelve people dead and removed. Three amputations. Seven were hooked up to oxygen masks and IVs. Fourteen people had regular infections that could turn deadly any second on top of their wounds. Six more people had started showing early signs of Kraang infection.

Leo wasn't sure if he was stressed or getting ill. They had run out of masks months ago and gloves and sanitisation can only go so far when someone coughs wet blood in your face. He was stretched even thinner with the huge crowd of people demanding severe medical care. It was just short of 200 spread across his 3 trained medics and Alice, still helping out.

Mikey had recovered enough to start working on the few in the early stages of infection when Donateelo returned. The vang of the doors almost made him snap angrily when he saw eight people enter. Medics from their sister-resistance.

He was so happy he could cry. He would do that late when he didn't have to give them the run down and delegate them accordingly. In a matter of moments things were looking up and seeming less bleak. If they were lucky he wouldn't have to hear anyone else's pulse stop today.

Hour Twenty-one.

Suddenly, the doors to the medical wing slammed open, and a soldier from Squad 8 burst in, her armour scorched and cracked. She was panting heavily, eyes wild with panic. "Leo—you need to come outside. Now."

He felt a pit form in his stomach, but he forced himself to follow. He had the ability to now with the miraculous medical reinforcements but he still didn't feel good about it. He stepped out into the open air, his mind reeling from the thick smell of burning metal and ash. Soldiers were standing on the walls of the base, their weapons pointed at the horizon.

“What’s going on?” Leo demanded, striding toward the rampart where the squad leader, Darius, stood with his binoculars glued to his face.

Darius handed them over without a word, his expression grim. Leo hesitated before bringing the binoculars to his eyes. What he saw made his blood run cold.

In the distance, the horizon wasn’t clear. It shimmered, a sea of unnatural movement. Hundreds.. No. Thousands! Thousands! A hoard thrice the size they were used to. Kraang-mutated yokai, humans and objects, their bodies and shapes warped and grotesque, shambled toward the base in a relentless, unified swarm. Their glowing yellow eyes flickered in the permanently pink sky, pulsing like sickening stars.

At the centre of the swarm, a towering Kraang general stood, easily three times the size of any other yokai. Its body was a mass of writhing tendrils and armoured plates. It towered over the Kraang that piloted it and the robotic head was vibrant with its blood red light. Piloting the grotesque hive mind.

“They’re coming straight for us,” Darius muttered. “And there’s no way we can hold them back for long. Not in this state.”

Leo’s heart raced. They were barely holding things together with the wounded they had now. If that swarm hit the base, they wouldn't just be out of supplies—they’d be overrun. His mind raced as he considered the dwindling stock of medicine, the exhausted soldiers, and the Kraang-possessed patients already inside.

“Time?” Leo managed to ask, his voice hoarse.

“Two hours, maybe less,” Darius replied.

Two hours. Two hours before that mass of corrupted bodies would be at their gates, clawing and tearing at everything in its path.

Leo lowered the binoculars and turned back toward the medical wing, his thoughts racing. They couldn’t survive this. Not without a miracle. But he didn't ask for miracles.

They had to evacuate.

If the writing style flops around its probably because I was flopping inbetween writing about Marxism and Neo-Marxist theories and the Catholic Church's involvement in poverty and opression and the revolustionist priests and then flopping back to writing about Leo's inner turmoil. Tonal whiplash for me.

HEYY!! So this was a doozy!! I spent a lot of the day writing this and have researched it as much as I could but who knew getting medical information about ringers lactate replacements and fourth degree burn treatments wouldn't be public info?

The original idea for this fic was to take the easy way out and write about Leo or Raph losing their arm in the apocalypse or out of it but then I sae another medic Leo post and got INSPIRATION!! (Dangerous).

Instead of pre-writting tomorrow's fic I decided to write this one as doubky long and I don't regret it. Wish I could leave it longer, I skipped a lot!!

Its so clear I have a favourite Rise Turtle sjbsjff!

Comments are much appreciated!!

Day 6 of @traumas-tmntober-2024 An Injustice

Two Weeks of Eternity

A farewell was something Donnie was far too young to have let alone a funeral. None of them could process the fact that he was gone and they didn't even have his body to bury.

OR

What if April couldn't bring Donnie back

Word Count: 1489

Two weeks. Two weeks was a very short amount of time. Two weeks was common. Two weeks was a blip in the universe. Two weeks wasn't even anything that special within just a year. Yet, the two weeks it had been since Donnie had passed stretched on like an eternity.

Raphael sat in silence, rolling his wrist absentmindedly. His fingers were tightly wrapped in bandages, splinted with a precision that should’ve been Donnie’s work. But it wasn’t Donnie. It was Leo. Leo, who had quietly taken over the task Donnie used to scold him about, patching up injuries, grumbling under his breath about Raph's recklessness. The absence of Donnie’s voice, that familiar mixture of annoyance and care, hung over him like a ghost. Was it strange to miss being scolded?

He didn't know where he had gotten that injury. His knuckles throbbed as he tried to think back to where it could of happened. Moments after April- He punched the metal column harshly once. Then again. And again.

Later on, when April had come back to her senses, Raphael had decided to remedy that. By beating her senseless. She had killed his little brother. His twin. She had done so many awful, inexcusable things to Donnie that he had let slide. He'd even let Donnie's own strange behaviour, his misplaced loyalty in her go a little for his sake but he was not going to sleep on this. He was done managing his temper.

So he snapped and charged toward her, knocked her to the ground. He pulled back and rammed forward right for her nose, the wet crack of cartilage echoed in the dim alley. The second hit landed squarely on her jaw. Twice. Then he hit her cheekbone. Then her lip. He punched her so hard she was coughing up blood and teeth. He got one more wallop to the eye before Leo had bothered to pull him off of that bitch!

Raphael didn’t resist. He couldn’t bring himself to fight his brothers, no matter how much rage clawed at his chest. But as he turned back toward April, a low growl tore from his throat. He spat at her, his disgust seething through his entire body. The sight of her mangled face and tangled hair had barely even satisfied him. His heart hammered as he breathed raggedly, he itched to do more. Deep inside he was still screaming to do more but it was all pointless. If Donnie knew what he'd just done he would be livid. But Donnie was gone now.

Raph would bet money that if Donnie somehow managed to come back after that he would just forgive her and move on immediately. Too soft-hearted, too goddamned willing to let her get away with everything, even when it had destroyed him in the end. He was so down bad it had gotten him killed. It infuriated him. Raphael raised his good hand to knock on Leonardo's door.

Leonardo slowly tied the mask around his face, his fingers trembling as he secured the knot. The mask was such a deep, inky blue that in the dim light, it seemed indistinguishable from black. It clung to his scales, a second layer meant to hide the cracks in his composure, to bury the emotions clawing their way to the surface. The dark fabric would conceal the tears he knew were coming, the moisture soaking in without a trace, but it couldn’t hide the bloodshot edges of his eyes. They glared through the narrow slits, raw with the weight of sleepless nights and a mind tangled in turmoil.

He stared into the mirror, the mask transforming him into a stranger. It was ironic, how something meant to conceal could only magnify his pain. Yet still, he tied the mask tighter, hoping it would somehow hold everything in place: his face, his grief, his unravelling.

They were holding his funeral today. There wasn’t much they could do without a body, but their father was used to that kind of grief. He had mourned Tang Shen for sixteen long years and Miwa for fifteen. So the funeral had been set up accordingly but they had all seen their Sensei's face yesterday. His eyes deep with an ache he had learned to carry in silence, and now, it was happening again.

The rituals would be the same as they'd always witnessed: flowers, incense, whispered prayers, but the emptiness would weigh heavier without a body to lay to rest. And with how he died, his soul could be just as vapourised

A cool hand rested on his shoulder, causing him to look at his younger brother. It was painful to see him in a mask colour so unlike his own. Where Leo's mask was blue it wasn't too unsightly to see himself in black but the dark carmine of Raphael's mask made him want to weep again. It didn't suit his fiery personality, the anger that was meant to fuel his every move.

Instead it was just the underlying fear that was present. He had to be strong for the both of them. He steeled himself, clenching his fist tight, fingernails digging under the scales and teeth clenching painfully. With great difficulty he reached up to Raph's hand with his own and rested there for just a moment before he brushed him off and silently made for the door.

He wasn't strong enough for weak words right now. Small comforts and placations wouldn't work on Raph if he had the strength to try. It felt odd describing himself as leading Raph to Mikey even though if Donnie were here, that very same act wouldn't have changed at all. Every consuming thought was plagued by the nightmare-turned-reality.

Leo didn’t bother stopping at Mikey’s room. He already knew it was empty. Mikey hadn’t slept there since that night. He had always spent more time in other parts of the lair, but now he avoided his room entirely, as if stepping inside might force him to confront the nightmare they were all living in. Lately, Mikey either slept in Leo or Raph’s room, wandered through the kitchen, dozed off on the couch, or sat silently in Donnie’s lab. Mikey’s usual energy had been snuffed out, his laughter hollow, his smiles strained and far too thin to convince anyone that he was okay. Every joke fell flat, and seeing that forced brightness on Mikey’s face was almost worse than his sadness.

The sliding door of the dojo parted easily, where the funeral was to be held and where they found Mikey. He was darting from place to place: rearranging flowers in an intricate pattern; placing a photo of Donnie on an easel so it was easy to see; and straightening up the little trinkets placed on the small wooden shrine. At the top of the shrine sat Donnie’s mask—the only thing left of him since April…

Casey stood off to the side, leaning against the wall, watching in silence. The weight of the moment stretched on, unbroken until finally someone spoke.

“This doesn’t feel real,” Casey muttered, his voice low.

Raph scoffed softly. “You can say that again, Jones.”

“This is surreal!” He repeated with a bitter tone. And he meant it. Just two weeks ago Donnie had trained in this very dojo, full of life but getting his ass beat. Now he had a mourning shrine here to offer a cruel solace to the living as he floated through space and time or whatever hell April had condemned him to.

Leo dragged his feet along the carpet as he made his way to Master Splinter's door. He knew when he knocked, he would emerge. Then he'd let everyone else attending Donatello's funeral in. Karai, Slash, Leatherhead, Dr Rockwell, Pidgeon Pete, Mondo Gecko, Timothy, and Shinigami. Everyone they knew and trusted were to be let in to pay respects to Donnie. Leo knew it was selfish to stand here with his hand raised to knock yet still refuse to start it just to put it off for himself.

He wasn’t ready to let go. Not yet. The crushing weight of admitting Donnie was truly gone pressed down on him like an anvil. The finality of it wrapped around his chest, constricting until it was hard to breathe. He wasn’t ready to accept that there was nothing left of his baby brother par memories, nothing but this pain shared between them all. But Leo knew he couldn’t hold onto this moment forever. He had to let the others grieve too. This wasn’t a burden for him to carry alone. He was probably selfish, hoping it was just his burden because that would mean none of them cared for Donnie.

With a deep breath, Leo finally raised his hand and knocked. There was no turning back now.

Truthfully, Leo knew there had been turning back as soon as Donnie started to plead and beg April for his life.

Hello!! I say todays prompt but its 3am of the 7th Whoops. Todays prompt was hard to get started but thanks to @agalactichalo I was able to start steamrolling this fic.

It ended up being an episode rewrite plus an au because the writers constantly served an injustice to the audience withApril's poor writing. They couldn't handle complex trauma and plots for her and they always bent the story so she would be painted in the most positive light even when she didn't deserve it. I was so angry when none of the brother's reacted to Donnie's death properly and just forgave April immediately. It was so poorly handled and Donnie doesnt process trauma like at all. Like please, babygirl, you can process the fact you just died!!

Also the panning and zoom in on Casey was so funny. Like why did they choose Jones, his rival out of everyone to focus on aftsr his death if they weren't destined to be boyfriends??? And the rain!! Pathetic Fallacy at its finest and these are two pathetic idiots in love your honour. Anywhizzle, I rewrote it with Raph beating the crap out if April because thats more in line with his character that the episode to me and I found it cathartic. Fanon April I love you so much, pls dont hate me.

Also does anyone know if its 'bar' or 'par' or 'pare' for 'something absolute EXCEPT this'? Many thanks if so!