I mean, I've seen what I've seen

[mischievousspooks]

Masterlist: Some Dreams Aren't Just Dreams

Teaser

A Brief History of Transit in New York City

Part 1 - In Which the Heroes Return Home

Part 2 - In Which April Calls Her Mom

Part 3 - In Which Splinter Struggles

Part 4 - In Which Casey Does Triage

Part 5 - In Which Raph Talks to Himself

Part 6 - In Which Leo Get Sedated

AO3

[mischievousspooks]

Part 6 - In Which Leo Gets Sedated

Everything was… fuzzy? No, that wasn’t quite right. It was too sharp to be fuzzy. Maybe… maybe hazy? Foggy? That’s it, foggy. Foggy and sharp. That seemed like a contradiction… but it worked well enough. 

Sharp pain as he got slammed through a planetoid. 

Foggy view of a golden glow. The storied light at the end of the tunnel. 

Sharp awareness at his brothers’ tear-streaked faces. The realization that rescue was here and he needed to act, fast! 

Foggy relief at being pulled through. Joking about Staten Island to avoid the intense emotional moment. 

Sharp pain as the group hug caused something to shift deep inside him. Several things. His hip, maybe? And a rib?

Foggy thoughts trying to figure out where the pain was coming from. It seemed to be everywhere, but that wasn’t helpful. 

Sharp white light in his vision as he moved again. Realization that the scream he heard was his own. The pain was definitely his hip now. 

Foggy comprehension as he tried to listen. Raph was apologizing. Something about his shell? Oh, they needed to move him. Get him home. 

Sharp pain in his chest as he tried to speak. Focusing was hard. Giving instructions was doable, though. Hopefully they made sense. 

Foggy black closing in everywhere as the pain spiked. He supposed that Raph must have successfully picked him up. The faintest foggy awareness of motion. 

Sharp return to consciousness as he heard CranBarry shouting. He wanted to reply, but didn’t have time before the next scream overtook him. Then he was out of breath. 

Foggy dizziness as his weight shifted onto his side. 

Sharp light in his eyes. 

Foggy vision. His dads were both there. Eye contact with Splinter. Defaulting to joking again, trying to make things seem okay, hoping to alleviate the horror on his dad’s face. CranBarry really sold the joke. 

Sharp pain again as the laugh proved to be a bad idea. He was really getting sick of this. He wished it would stop already. 

Foggy sounds of Donnie’s voice. It gave him something solid to hold on to. Something to fight for. But it trailed off… he wanted to ask his brother to keep talking, but wasn’t sure if the words actually came out… 

Then a deeper fog. But this one was nice. The sharp pains became… muted. They were still sharp, he could still tell that there was pain there, he just couldn’t… feel it? He couldn’t find his eyelids any more to try to open them. But that was okay. He wanted to see Donnie, or at least hear him, but even that feeling was muted now. 

Sharp, cutting through the blackness just enough to remind him that he existed, a new sensation - it wasn’t pain, exactly, not like the rest of the pain. More like a squirming. It made him uncomfy. Then it became… just… pressure? But on the inside? It almost felt like he really needed to poop, except it was somewhere on the front… on his belly? No, more like his legs… somewhere in between. It kept getting worse. 

He wanted to wake up and ask what it was. Find out what was happening. But the foggy darkness was too thick, and this new pain wasn’t enough to bring him out of it. 

There was a little tugging sensation, somewhere in the distance. It didn’t bother him. He did wish he could hear something, though. It was kind of lonely in the dark. But he knew he couldn’t be alone, since he could feel someone touching him. Or at least, he knew that someone was touching him, even though he couldn’t quite feel it. He couldn’t quite feel anything. He was just sort of… floating. It wasn’t comfortable, but it wasn’t real bad. Some part of him knew that it was a lot better for him to keep floating, even though it was uncomfortable, because if he found the ground it would hurt. A lot. Some part of him knew that he shouldn’t be aware of any of this. He knew too much about medicine to not understand that he was only mostly sedated. Hopefully it was enough that he wouldn’t remember any of this when he woke up, even though he was aware of it now. It wasn’t a very strong awareness, though, more like he was watching the sensations happen from a distance. 

Then a sharp pain dragged him down toward the dangerous ground, away from his safe bubble of floaty nothingness. It was back in the hip again. Something had changed, it had moved, and the pain was much closer to him now. Or he was closer to it. 

Then again. This time he knew it was a pull. He wanted to shout, to tell them that was the wrong direction. But even though his consciousness was sharper now, he was still too lost in the fog to find his voice. 

Then again! This one was the worst of all! It crunched and stabbed and shoved his whole entire body, setting off a new wave of pain EVERYWHERE. Even the ones that he had stopped being aware of. There’s no way that that didn’t make him shout out loud, right? He still couldn’t feel his face, or his body really, but there’s no way that his loud mouth didn’t do something. 

He tried to find his way down to the ground. He knew it would hurt more, but he wanted to know what was happening. What caused that pain? Did he need to wake up and fight? 

Then the thought occurred to him, sharp and clear as day. 

Maybe this was all a dream. Maybe his brain invented the portal once he knew all hope was lost, and now it was creating an illusion that he was home. It couldn’t get rid of the pain as he was brutally beaten to death, but it could reframe it into something easier to cope with. 

He didn’t mind. If that’s what his brain chose to do in their final moments, he would just accept it. He’d rather die surrounded by his family, the people that mattered more to him than anything else in all of existence, so he’d buy into the hallucination. It would be easier to float back up into the blackness that way, imagining that the fight was over. 

Then, as if to confirm it, the darkness was split open by a single point of blindingly bright white light. It slowly expanded until it filled his whole entire field of view. He could feel it all around him, expanding to encompass everything. It erased the darkness. It erased the pain. It even erased the foggy awareness of distant pain. It erased him. 

“I hope you can finally be proud of me…” was the last thought before he was no more. 

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[mischievousspooks]

In Which Raph Talks to Himself

*Rrrrrg, no, why, why, why? Why, Leo? Why'd you have to do this? Why couldn't you have let me? I'm supposed to protect you. You should have left me with the Krang… not gotten yourself all beat up like this…*

**Keep it together, Raphy, you're losing it in here. You can't very well protect him if you're crying too much to see what you're doing.**

~or if you move too fast and break his shell more. A big, strong klutz like you could surely do more damage than good… if you weren't paying attention.~

**Hey now, cut that out. You are paying attention. Just clean it, gently, like he's done for you, and it'll all be fine.**

*Yeah, you're right. And I know I'm not alone. Anatawa hitorijanai. I've just got to do my part.*

**Yeah, that's it big guy, just do your part and do your best. He'll be fine. You know better than anyone how stubborn he is.**

*Yeah, heh, he'd live through this just to rub it in my face that he got to pull the hero move and rescue me this time. And we saved New York. Hell, we saved the whole world!*

~but did you, though?~ 

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[mischievousspooks]

Part 4 - In Which Casey Does Triage

Casey had never known a time of peace and was no stranger to carnage. But he wasn't immune to the horror before him now. The last 48 hours had been… incomprehensible. So he wouldn't try to comprehend it right now. It didn't matter who the person on the table was, all that mattered was that they were bleeding out, and Casey knew how to handle that. Even if they were a mutant turtle.

Trying very hard not to think too deeply about anything, he read through the scans quickly. They were clearly optimized by someone with excellent attention to detail. All of it was automatically numbered and color coded. He tapped the monitor, glad to find it was a touch screen as expected, and flipped through the layers of data. Anything bleeding had a flashing red alert symbol, all the broken bones were highlighted in yellow. The most severe injuries were on the top layer, lesser injuries behind that. Tapping on the topmost blood loss alert, he found that Donatello’s software included both recommended treatment and location information for the necessary supplies. The cabinets he’d seen looked remarkably well stocked. Casey could only hope that the inventory was up-to-date.

There were two large puncture wounds flagged as being the most urgent. They were both about halfway hidden under the edge of his plastron, in the pocket of soft flexible tissue just above his hips. It didn’t look like the plastron itself was too damaged, which meant that whatever tore the holes probably came in at an angle. That was bad… there are a lot of vital organs hiding under there, and if any of them were punctured this would be much more complicated.

*However,* Casey decided, *the most pressing issue is staunching the blood loss.* The inventory didn’t mention a supply of compatible blood, or any kind of fluid replacement beyond IV saline solution, so keeping his blood pressure up might be an issue. His oxygen might be a problem, too. *Once the blood stops draining out of his body, we can work on stopping it draining into the wrong parts of his body. Resetting bones and re-locating his hip can wait. Checking his brain can not.* Plan in mind, he started giving directions to the others in the room. There was someone there that he only faintly recognized, like maybe they'd met when he was very small, but no… that wasn't a safe path for his thoughts to go down. He needed to act as if they were all strangers, since he didn't know what their knowledge level was at this age, in this timeline… better safe than sorry. He couldn't quite get around their names, though, and winced internally as he said "Commander O'Neil" on instinct, and a twinge of loss twisted in his stomach.

He needed to focus on the injured turtle. It seemed that the magenta-faced dude and Master Splinter had traded tasks. Oh well, all that mattered was that they all got done. Raphael was holding his brother’s side, trying to put pressure on one of the holes in his abdomen, but not doing a very good job. The blood poured around his oversized finger as if it wasn’t even there. Looks like another task re-assignment would be necessary… apparently he wasn't very good at this leadership thing; he'd never been the one delegating tasks before…

Throwing on a pair of gloves, and very glad to have them for the first time in a while, he pushed Raph out of the way. “You’re being too delicate, it needs a lot more pressure than that to stop the bleeding. But I should have given you a better task, anyway, since I need to come look at this myself. Wash your hands again, then grab some soapy water to start washing his shell.” Casey knelt down and lifted the hard edge of the plastron, stretching the pocket of skin under its edge as much as he could without tearing anything, to get a better view of the wound just under it. “If there are any little splinters of shell that are completely detached, remove them like the rest of the debris, but otherwise try to keep as much of the shell in place as possible, even if it’s only hanging on by a thread.” He spoke quickly, trying to convey assurance through his tone, but he could hear his own uncertainty and wondered if the others could, too. Raphael just grunted and took off toward the bathroom. Running water could be heard a half second later.

Casey turned his full attention to the gouges now. He shuddered and cringed as he felt around the edges of the lower puncture. It was massive. There was no way around it, he'd have to go in and try to pinch off whatever blood vessel was the primary culprit… he slid two fingers into the wound, having to swallow the fear in his chest when he was met with no resistance because of how big the hole was. There was no time for fear. He felt around, trying to find where the most blood was coming from to pinch it off. But it was no use, the hot thick liquid was pouring out everywhere, there was so much damage… so, shuddering and cringing, he forced his whole hand in, stretching the turtle's flesh only slightly, but effectively creating a stopper in the opening. He could feel the pressure start to build up on the other side of his hand, and he flexed a little just to make sure it was as tight a seal as possible.

A thin gloved hand came into view, holding a cartoonish stack of gauze, the other feeling for the edges of the higher puncture. Casey lent his other hand to the effort, pulling the damaged plastron down over his own knuckles as much as possible to make the top hole more visible. Gauze was pushed into the wound, going much deeper than Casey thought it would, becoming instantly saturated. The only thing Casey saw that gave him any hope was that the blood seemed to be running clean and bright, so it was unlikely that any of the organs had been punctured, just muscle. "Just keep packing gauze in there. It'll get soaked, that's fine, just keep adding more. We need pressure to help slow the bleeding." The rat man worked with lightning speed that could only come from many years of ninjutsu training and a healthy dose of mystic powers. Casey couldn't watch any more, closing his eyes and trying to get a grip on his emotions. He couldn't break down now. No tears allowed during emergencies, you could only cry after the danger had passed. That's how you keep people alive.

Master Splinter had the first one packed in record time, and Casey breathed again as his hands were replaced by the old man's. He moved so fast that only half a pint managed to escape before the gauze was packed in.

*Wow. If Splinter had still been alive, mayb- NO! I can't start thinking that way. I'm here now. I just need to deal with what's in front of me.*

The monitor behind him lit up with a new notification, showing him the readouts of the brain scan. It came with a note on the top layer: Only normal concussions. Three major, five minor. Nothing permanent, no excessive bleeding, no surgery recommended. -D

What a relief. Casey stood and stripped the soiled gloves. He flipped through the rest of the scan just to check, but he concurred with the tech wiz. Their mutant enhancements would allow his brain to heal itself with no further intervention. They would be able to keep him sedated for a few days, thankfully. There's no way he'd be able to cope with the pain otherwise. As he swiped back to the top layer, he saw that the readings had changed. There were no longer flashing red alerts about the two huge holes in the turtle. The top page was now the diagram of his carapace. *The MedBay must be taking real-time readings. That’s cool.*

The inventory next to the recommended treatment showed that they had surgical steel mesh and some special kind of super glue, as well as something labeled “Genius-Built GermBlocker Anti-Ick Gel” which was tagged as an all-in-one antibiotic/antifungal/antiviral cream.

“I’ll go grab it!”

Casey jumped a foot in the air. “O’Neil! Don’t sneak up on me like that!” He clutched his chest as he gasped for air and tried to bring his heartrate down.

“Sorry, Casey,” she called as she loaded up with the shell supplies. “I didn’t mean to.”

“It’s fine.” He took a breath, getting psyched for the next steps. “Have you done this kind of shell repair before?”

“I’ve done small shell repairs before. The guys are usually a little, well, sturdier, but I busted open Raph’s shell a few times when we were kids… Leo’s, too. So I know what to do.”

“Good,” Casey replied, “then I’ll pass this one off to you.” She nodded. Turning to Raphael, she started barking orders at him. Casey noticed Michelangelo hovering in the background, looking scared and helpless, but didn’t have time to help him yet.

He stepped away toward the new guy, who he saw now was a sheep, intending to ask his name. Splinter had his attention already, though, so he didn’t get a chance.

“We’ve packed these with as much gauze as possible, but I think you’ll be the best at properly sewing them shut.”

“Of course I will, Lou. None of you could hope to compete with my superior dexterity.” His tone was saturated in arrogance.

“Or your kitchen skills, I’m sure.” Casey could have sworn Splinter said it with ample sass to make the disparagement clear, but the other guy just agreed with him.

Casey jumped in at that point before Splinter could start a fight. “You’re good at stitches?”

“Most assuredly.”

“Great. Let’s start with the laceration on his forearm.” Casey wanted to watch his work before risking unpacking the larger wounds.

“It seems illogical to begin with less serious injuries in this instance.” The sheep’s deep voice resonated with distrust.

Casey was good in battle. He was awkward in social situations. But he tried his best to stand his ground, “I suppose it could be, but wouldn’t it also be illogical to let open wounds bleed freely while we close the deeper wounds? I think we should stop the bleeding everywhere else as much as possible, since the big holes are packed tight enough to give us a few minutes to spare.”

“I still think you are being illogical. However, since we only have ‘a few minutes to spare,’” his repetition of Casey’s words came with a massive eye roll, “I will finish this quickly.”

Casey was knocked aside by the irritating man as he turned back toward the hospital bed. Thin, cold hands and a fat, furry body caught and righted him. “Thanks, Master Splinter,” he murmured. “Is he always like that?” He tried to keep the volume down.

“You have no idea…” Splinter said. Even though his voice sounded exhausted and dead, Casey could still guess by his undertones that these two had history. He stared at the familiar rat face for a moment, wondering at that history, until his thoughts started drifting back to the past and he had to shake himself again.

*Work to do. Emergency first. Feelings later.*

Casey approached the table, ready to offer advice or help or correction. The sheep was focusing on Leonardo’s shin. Looking at the forearm that he had instructed get sewn up, he couldn’t see an injury. There was no cut. Only an IV, which seemed to be running saline solution into the turtle. Confused, Casey picked up the other arm. Maybe he’d gotten left and right mixed up? But there was nothing there, either. He looked at the turtle’s left arm again. There was a smear of blood, but nothing bleeding. Then he noticed a very clean line of the smallest stitches he’d ever seen. He turned his attention to the sheep’s hands now, and saw not just hands, but a small forest of vines emerging from his sleeves. Casey watched in amazement as one hand stabilized the surrounding skin, the other guided a needle through either side of the cut, then one of the vines cut the plastic thread, another tied it closed, and a third applied a few drops of something out of purple bottle with an applicator tip, while the hands started the next stitch. He had three stitches done in under five seconds. The entire laceration was sealed in under 20.

The sheep glanced at Casey, who realized he was staring open-mouthed and quickly shut his jaw.

“Baron Draxum tells not but the truth. My dexterity is far superior to that of any human, mutant, or Yokai, and my skills with sutures are not to be questioned.”

“No questions here, Baron.” Casey swallowed hard. “I’m grateful you’re here. Which wound do you think we should do next?”

“O’Neil!” Baron shouted, getting April’s attention immediately. “How long until we will be able to lay him on his back?”

April’s face contorted into something unpleasant, like she didn’t want to tell him what she was about to tell him. “I don’t think we’ll be able to, Barry. The damage on this side is… it’s bad. Real bad. Laying him on it could send all kinds of pieces digging into him. If it’s possible to sew up those holes while he’s on his side, he’ll be a lot better off.”

Barry looked displeased. Casey thought he would push back. But he didn’t. “Very well. It will be more difficult, but I shall proceed.” He turned to Casey. “We will begin with the sinistral puncture so that blood from the dextral one does not obscure it later. I have the materials I need, but I will need you to remove the packed gauze. I will also need you to keep the area as dry as possible until the wound is sealed.”

“Got it. Do we need to administer sedatives or pain meds first?”

“He has been given ketamine and fentanyl, did you not see the vials by the IV?”

“No. I wasn’t looking at labels on jars, I was focusing on the bleeding. But good to know that he’s medicated. I need to wash my hands one more time, then let’s get to work.” Barry just nodded and started stitches on the next superficial cut.

Hands clean, trying to keep his thoughts empty, Casey put on a new pair of gloves. *You got this, Casey.* He closed his eyes for just a second, taking a deep breath in. He held it for a count of four, then exhaled forcefully. Mind and body ready for the next round, he opened his eyes, turned around, and dove back in.

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[mischievousspooks]

[mischievousspooks]

[mischievousspooks]

Happy Pi Day y'all

[mischievousspooks]

Hey y’all, it’s been, like, a year... but I started posting to AO3 and will be posting both there and here on Tumblr every other Friday this year, or until the story ends :3 

[mischievousspooks]

"Beware the Ides of March", they say, "'Tis a dark, foreboding, and perilous day." The Ides of March 'tis upon us, and this year it falls on a Flat Fuck Friday! Guys, this won't happen again until 2030!

[mischievousspooks]

Anyone else celebrating today with the Memorizing Pi Channel?

[mischievousspooks]

Part 3 - in which Splinter struggles

Donnie was still giving out instructions, but Splinter wasn't going to wait, he was going to follow his red and blue sons and stay by Leonardo. Twice today he'd thought he might never see one of them again. The grief of it was overwhelming. He couldn't stand to let his baby blue out of his sight right now. Splinter wordlessly reached out his hands in a fruitless gesture, as though to support Leonardo as Raphael settled his broken body onto the hospital bed, rolling him out of his massive arms and onto his side. Leo’s eyebrows scrunched together a little more and he groaned quietly. It was a good sign, he was still semi-conscious, but Splinter would have preferred screaming to the weak sound that came from his son. It frightened him. His hands fluttered uselessly over the boy, looking for anything he could do, for anywhere safe to touch to comfort him, but there was nothing. All he could see was damage everywhere he looked. Especially his face…  

The expression of pain on the damaged face dulled as he held still; he even opened his eyes. He smiled for a moment at his dad's face. The smile turned into a half-hearted smirk. "No offense, pops, but you look like a drowned rat."

He was making jokes. That was also a good sign. Splinter felt a little better at the insult, he even wanted to laugh a little, but it seemed to get lost in the same haze as the rest of his thoughts. Everything was moving in slow motion. He was moving in slow motion. He didn't know who spoke, and didn't catch what they said, but he watched as Leonardo started to laugh. The laugh got suddenly cut off, a spasm of fresh pain rolling through the boy’s whole body. He curled in on himself, one of his knees pulling up towards his chest as he coughed and shuddered. Splinter again reached a hand out, uselessly. He didn’t know what to do. He was aware that there was motion around him, people talking, but he couldn't focus on anything. He thought his own body might collapse under the weight of his son's pain. Leonardo tried to speak again, to Donatello this time, but couldn't even get the whole sentence out before he started coughing violently, blood spitting across the bed and spilling out of his mouth. Splinter was nearly frantic now, looking around the room for any kind of help, guidance, anything. Casey was a shining beacon in the darkness that was closing in. Splinter focused in on him taking charge. But when Casey told him to do something that would require leaving the room, he couldn't move. He needed to help, but he couldn’t take even a single step away from his boy if he might be lost… again. 

Barry entered his field of view. He looked at the sad, soggy rat man for a moment. "Lou, you take the gauze and stay with Leonardo. I will go fetch the human."

That was exactly what he needed. Finally, something to do to help. Instructions he could follow. He silently thanked Barry for seeing him in this moment. For helping him stay with his boy. For being here with them now. He was truly grateful.

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[mischievousspooks]

Part 2 - in which April calls her mom

"Roger that, boss man. Mikey, come with me."

The back of Mikey's shell was seized by April, pushing him down the hall. "Wait, April, I’m fine, I don't wanna-"

She was having none of it and cut off his protests. "Listen up now, Mikey. You can't do anything for Leo while both of your arms are bleeding and you're shivering like a leaf in a hurricane. D said to go upstairs to get you washed, so you’d better believe we’re going upstairs to get you washed. I will drag you if you make me." Mikey didn't dare argue with her more. Honestly, his hands were starting to hurt now that some of the adrenaline was wearing off, plus he was leaving a little trail of blood droplets. He let her push him up the stairs.

They had done some remodeling on the abandoned subway/train station when they first moved in. Leo had wanted to have a proper bath this time (the pool in the hidden city spa had really stuck with him) so they modified the women’s restroom. Took out all the stalls and toilets, left just one sink, and since it wasn’t directly above the subway tunnel, they dug out a big rectangle about 3 feet deep, and poured a new concrete floor for the basin. Voila! Not just a bath, but a pool! This was great for the semi-aquatic mutants, and proving useful now as a clean work space.

"Sit," April commanded, pointing at the bath. She hopped down into it while he situated himself. Putting pressure on his hands hurt, so he unceremoniously flopped onto the edge of the tub, scooching into place. Now that he was cooperating she softened her tone a little. "Now, let's see what's going on here. I'm gonna unwrap your arms, okay? It might hurt a little." Mikey just nodded and presented his right hand for inspection. It was shaking slightly, like the rest of him, but he could obviously still move it. 

What she could see of his fingers didn't look too bad, just a few small cracks between scales, but that didn’t reassure her. There was blood and burns all the way to his shoulders. His arm wraps were totally soaked through and dripping, the smell of blood hanging heavy in the air, and had singe marks. Weird singe marks, too, that looked more like the cracks in broken glass than the shapes of fire. The zigzagging lines were mostly grey, but where the cuts were big enough, she could see veins of ruby red liquid oozing out and down his arms. She nervously started to undo the top of the wrap. The fabric was thick and stiff; blood seeped out of it onto her hands even at the highest point. It dripped onto the floor with heavy wet splats. Worried now about the extent of the damage, she pulled off the first few inches of cloth. As his skin became more exposed a new smell assaulted her. Unlike the metallic salty smell of blood, this was sweet. Sickly sweet. Cloying, sticky, chemical-y, slow-creeping sickly sweet. It made her stomach turn.

She unwrapped all the way to his elbow, but struggled not to make a face as she discovered his forearm was worse. Much worse. Just past his elbow, the fabric wouldn’t come off any more. She took a deep breath and held it as she leaned in to get a closer look. The edges of the burns had turned his skin to charcoal, grey and flaking. The normally orderly scales had fractured and split, but many of them were also strangely goopy- and blobby-shaped. There were also whole entire scales that just weren't there any more, replaced by sticky, crunchy, cracked, bleeding, melted goo. She could clearly see stray black threads hanging out of his skin, partially melted, and brilliant red still visible in the gaps.

The sweet and salty and metallic smells were mixing together into something truly disgusting as she pieced it together. 

The Genuis-Built™ synthetic fabric was heat resistant and fire retardant, necessary for the mystic power Mikey wielded, but whatever happened wasn't normal heat exposure. The smell was burned synthetics. The fabric had melted into the wounds and even fused with his flesh. Now that she knew what she was looking at it was obvious that the entire surface of his forearms was blackened, not just by burns, but also by melted fabric. The wounds were partially cauterized (probably the only thing keeping him from bleeding out) but moving around so much had re-opened lots of little fissures. April was sure she would find more under the remaining cloth. But there was no way to remove the cloth without removing the bits of Mikey it was fused to. 

"Mikey," she wanted to hear his voice, hoping that it would stave off her panic, but she could hear it choking her already. "What happened?"

She replaced the black fabric she’d removed from his trembling arm as he answered. He was trying to hold back tears, or maybe it was panic, or maybe both… "Well, I… I couldn't just let… I couldn't give up on… I… Casey told me, Casey said that future me opened the portal that sent him back in time, with just his hands, and I thought maybe that meant I could do it, too, but to the prison dimension. I would have done anything to bring Leo home, but… but maybe…" he shook even more as he stumbled over his words.

"Maybe what, Mikey?"

Losing his grip, he all but shouted, "Maybe if I'd been able to open the portal sooner he wouldn't be hurt so bad!" The sobs completely overtook him now, his whole body racked with the force of them. He yanked his arm back from April, curling into himself, holding his knees to his chest and clenching his fists. Several more fissures opened up and started bleeding anew, tiny trickles joining the existing drip. April couldn't stop the tears any more, either. It was all too much to handle. As they ran down her face, spilling onto her jacket and onto the floor, she wrapped her arms around her littlest brother as tight as she could, pulling him into her, wishing more intensely than she'd ever wished for anything that she could have protected them better.

They sobbed together, crying for one endless moment, letting it all out, hugging, leaning on each other. April couldn’t tell how long it took until she finally caught her breath and could tell him, "Mikey, it's not your fault that he's hurt. It's your fault that he's alive at all. If it weren't for you, he would have bled to death in a different dimension, all alone. And I can see on your arms how much it hurt you to do what you did. I know you would have done anything to bring him back, and I'm just so relieved and so glad that you're both still alive. You're here. You saved Raph, you saved Leo, you saved me, you saved the whole entire world, Mikey. You’re– Oh… oh no! " All other thoughts momentarily forgotten, her eyes flew open, and she jerked her tear-stained and swollen face away from Mikey's. She started searching her pockets frantically.

"April, what - ?"

"MY MOM! I haven't called or checked in or anything! What if something happened? Damn, where's my phone!?"

"You can use the communicator in your watch. Donnie hacked your mom's phone before he gave it to you."

"Oh… right… of course he did. I'm so sor-" she was about to apologize for doing this while he was still bleeding, but was interrupted - 

"No, don't apologize, call her! Right now! She's probably more worried sick than we are." His look of concern was completely genuine, and completely directed at her right now. His wounds could wait another minute. 

"Right." She pulled up the holoscreen. Yep, there it was, in the contacts and the speed dial – Carol O'Neil. It barely rang once.

"APRIL, BABY IS THAT YOU?!?” The instant relief of hearing her mom's voice almost had her in tears again. “WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN? ARE YOU OKAY? WHY HAVEN'T YOU ANSWERED YOUR - " She was tempted to let her go on a little longer just to hear her, but interrupted. 

"Mom, it's fine, I'm fine, calm down. Are you okay? Are you safe? Are you home?"

"Yeah, sweetie, we're okay here. Our apartment wasn't damaged, although our street sure was. Where are you???" Again, relief. It almost made her dizzy.

"I'm with Mikey. Listen, mom," she tried to keep the tears out of her voice, "Mikey and Leo got really hurt, and I can't leave yet, but I'll keep you updated and come home as soon as possible, okay?"

"How did they get hurt? Did you get hurt? You still haven't given me their new address, but tell me where it is and I'll come get you, I can take them to the hospital –"

"They can't go to the hospital. I promise, I'll explain it all later, but for now I really need to get back to Mikey, his hands are burned and he needs help taking care of it." Unfortunately she still wasn't sure what to do, but she needed to try. "I'll call you the instant I know what you can do to help, or the instant something gets worse."

"Is he in the room? Can you put me on speaker?" This request was somewhat unexpected, but April should have figured. Her mom always wanted in on any phone call with the boys. She had never met them in person, but that didn't stop her loving them from a distance.

"Yeah, mom, he's here and he can hear you."

"Hi Mrs. O'Neil." Mikey was turning on the charm. April thought he did good at sounding collected, but…

"Mikey, love, how many times do I have to tell you to call me Carol? Baby, are you gonna be okay? I can hear you've been crying. Is that girl of mine being mean to you?"

"No, Carol, she's being great. I don't know what we'd do without her, especially right now. I'm sorry we're keeping her from you. We'll get her home just as soon as possible. And thank you for offering to help. We'll let you know once there's something you can do, other than letting us keep April a little longer. Are you really alright?"

"Yeah, baby, I’m okay now that I know you’re alive. Wish I could help though. Both of you please stay safe, and keep me updated. April, baby, I love you. I'm so glad you're okay. Give my love to the boys, too."

"Will do, mom. Love you." Click. It stung a little to hang up.  

Her and Mikey made eye contact. They took one deep breath together, sighing at the relief of one more loved one unscathed. For a second it seemed like they were going to start sobbing again, but to April’s surprise, her body let out a nervous little giggle. Startled, she covered her mouth, but then Mikey let out a little chuckle. It was such an unexpected sound in this horrifying situation that she couldn’t help but laugh back. Before they could understand it, they both dissolved into fits of uncontrollable giggles. Within seconds they were both completely hysterical. April had felt out of control more than a few times that day, but this was different. She was completely out of control of her own body, lost in fits of laughter, with her little bro straight up rolling on the edge of the tub. After more than two whole entire minutes of it she felt insane. She was winded like never before. Her sides ached; she was sure it was making the bruising worse. She might even have a broken rib or two. But it just wouldn’t stop! "Mikey, I was so scared for a second there!" She could barely talk through the laughter.

Mikey choked out "Yeah, me too. Thank Pizza Supreme in the Sky she's okay. Honestly, can you imagine if this is how she found out about… this whole situation?" He gestured vaguely to his whole body, and they both burst out laughing again. This whole situation was so absurd, and overwhelming, and terrifying. The emotional rollercoaster was just too much to handle. They'd already cried so much, now all they could do was laugh like absolute maniacs, definitely making both of them more bruised. 

April tried (unsuccessfully) to get it together while Mikey cackled, "Okay, okay… mmmhmhmhmhm… no!… Okay. Seriously. *deep inhale… hold for a second…* Bwaahahaha, we need to stop! It's not funny! Seriously, Mikey, focus. Hmhmhm, c'mon O'Neil, get it together. Mikey, we really do need to take care of your arms." She looked down at her dress, now covered in his blood, and held back another stressed-out giggle. "You're still bleeding all over the place." He looked too. While he wasn’t bleeding, like, a lot, the blood stains and steady little drip seemed to sober them both up a bit. They stayed silent for a moment, testing it. It seemed like the fit had passed. 

"So, little bro, we've got a bit of a problem." 

"Tell me about it," he rolled his eyes.

April had to put serious effort into not giggling at that. "Shush, you'll make me start laughing again!" Mikey made a show of zipping his mouth and throwing away the key. He only flinched a little as he moved. "That's better. Now, somehow your mystic hands burned right through Donnie's Genius-Built fireproof cloth, and it's all up in your arms. We're gonna have to remove it and I don't know how to do that without making the problem worse." She wasn’t even sure where to start. She knew that it needed to get cleaned, at the very least, but didn’t know how to do that with all the stuff melted together. There were electronics embedded in the fabric, after all, what if adding water made them short out or something? It’s not like she could just remove them… 

Mikey raised his hand to speak.

"You may speak, just don't be funny."

"Roger, skipper. Please don't shoot this down right away! Honestly, it doesn't hurt much, and they're bleeding, but it seems like it's not that bad…" April gave him a face that clearly showed she disagreed. "I mean, obviously it's a problem, but I'm probably not going to die right away, so why don't we just wrap them up to keep the blood contained until dad or Don – " but the rest of his thought got cut off by one of the dads coming in the door. 

<- Previous Chapter | Next Chapter ->

[mischievousspooks]

A Brief History of Transit in New York City

In the late 19th century, many enterprising entrepreneurs had their eyes on a lucrative sector - public transit. Many of the nation’s railway companies were undergoing restructuring, new technologies meant that infrastructure was in need of updating, and cities like NYC were willing to pay. 

One such entrepreneur was engineer William Barclay Parsons. He and his team were tasked with creating the designs for the city’s first subway system when the Rapid Transit Act was passed. In 1900, after two years of legal negotiations surrounding route alignment, their plans were finalized and a contract signed. Heins & LaFarge Architectural Firm was hired to design 28 subway stations and one multimodal hub, featuring two shining crown jewels at either end - City Hall Station to the south and Highbridge Park to the North. 

Ground was first broken at City Hall on March 24th, 1900, in a ceremony officiated by Mayor Robert Van Wyck. They repeated the ceremony for its sister station at Highbridge Park and 170th St. exactly one year later. There were plans to build a grand new bridge across the Hudson River just a few blocks north, which would finally connect mainland railroads to the island of Manhattan. At the time, all passengers had to transfer to ferryboats to get to their destinations. 

Highbridge Park was by far the more extravagant of the two. No expense had been spared in its design. Like its sister station at City Hall, it featured glass ceilings, mosaic tilework, and brilliant Romanesque arches. Unlike its sister, it was intended as the ultimate multimodal transit hub for all incoming visitors, and so possessed ample space to connect the country’s railways to the city’s brand new subway system, as well as terminals for the above-ground trolley system and connections to the new bike routes that were being built. It also possessed far greater luxuries than its sister. It was fully integrated into the city’s sewage system, which was nearing the end of its 50-year-long city-wide installation. There was a fine dining establishment on sight, a mezzanine level with shops selling every good a traveler could want, and even a women’s restroom with flush toilets and mahogany seats! Throughout the century prior, it had been widely considered indecent for women to relieve themselves in public, but that particular public attitude was rapidly changing as shopping became a more prominent leisure activity for affluent ladies. This feature would prove to be extremely popular in years to come. 

Remarkably, construction only took four years, and nearly stayed within its original budget (for anyone that follows these sorts of megaprojects today you know how rare that is). The first subway train in New York City departed from the City Hall Station at 2:34 pm on October 27th, 1904. The line carried 152,000 passengers on its first day, most of whom rode the entire length of the line, then disembarked at Highbridge to explore the amenities and take a walk along the scenic Harlem River Drive. By all accounts, it was a major success. 

The subway system saw increases in ridership year after year. By 1910 the demand was so high that most stations needed to be extended to accommodate 10-car trains. Unfortunately, this was the beginning of the end for City Hall Loop. It was built on such a tight curve that the 10-car trains could not use it as a stop, and it was such a unique shape and location that it could not be extended without completely rebuilding it. As a result, many lines were forced to bypass the station, favoring the Brooklyn Bridge station a mere 600 feet away. In spite of this, the station managed to hold on for several decades. Its use was very limited in that time, and in the end it was closed as much as it was open. Its final day of service was December 31st, 1945. In the 60s it was considered as a possible location for the New York Transit Museum, but the abandoned Court Street station won out. Nowadays you can catch glimpses of it if you ride the 6 past its final stop, and once in a while NYTM members can go on official tours. 

The fate of the Highbridge station was not quite so slow a tragedy. In 1905, a mere 5 months after opening and before the bridge had more than the first two piers in the water, a sinkhole opened under the dining room and main lobby, compromising the integrity of the entire building. Luckily there were warning signs and everyone was able to evacuate with minimal injury. Several teams of engineers and contractors were hired to assess the situation, but all of them came back with the same answer - it might technically be possible to fill in the sinkhole and repair the damage, but it would be extremely expensive, time consuming, and the weight of the structure was such that more settling and more sinkholes were possible, especially once steam trains were introduced. The entire project went down in history as a prime example of why geologists should always be consulted during the planning of any large structure. They halted construction on the bridge and shifted their focus to a new location. Railroad magnate and business expert Cornelius Vanderbilt had been acquiring and merging railroads all over New York for a few decades now, and had built himself a railyard and depot in midtown Manhattan. It was in the midst of reconstruction after a devastating steam train crash in 1902, so it was the perfect place to redirect resources and build a new station. They updated the name from Grand Central Depot to Grand Central Station, constructed the North River Tunnels to connect trains from the mainland, and the rest is history. It opened for business in 1913 and is still open to this day, with only routine maintenance having been done on the building in the intervening century.

The piers later became part of the George Washington Bridge, abandoning the train tracks in favor of six additional lanes for automobile traffic on the lower level. The Highbridge station, intended to be the shining crown jewel of NYC’s state-of-the-art transit system, was condemned, abandoned, and forgotten. 

And here's a bunch of cool info about the real world parts of this:

A brief history of the ladies' bathroom

And how that history can shed light on America's suddenly fierce bathroom debate

New York's Old City Hall Subway Station (1904-1945) - Clio

New York’s first subway station opened on October 27, 1904, and was located almost directly beneath City Hall. Elegantly designed with gilde

New York Central Railroad - Wikipedia

George Washington Bridge - Wikipedia

History of transportation in New York City - Wikipedia

Railroad terminal map of New York Harbor - Map Collections

Historical maps in BHS’s collection span the years 1562 to 2015 and depict the five boroughs, New York City, Long Island, New York State, Ne

[mischievousspooks]

Do you have an upload schedule idea for new writing? :)

Every other Thursday :D

[mischievousspooks]

Some Dreams Aren't Just Dreams

Greetings and salutations, my fellow tumblrites! After taking a month off to recover from the holidays (and do a LOT of proofreading) I have returned with NEW CONTENT! Last year was all about the visual art; this year written work is where it's at. I present to you, rottmnt fans, while chewing off my fingernails, the first fanfiction I've ever written! Or at least, the first chapter of it (there are MANY more chapters to come).

This story picks up near the end of the rottmnt movie. The brothers, having successfully rescued Leonardo from the Krang Prison Dimension, find that their work isn't over yet. Yes, they saved the world. They changed the future. They even got Leo back to New York. But even Heroes can get hurt, and having won doesn't mean you didn't lose.

This mostly falls into the genres of hurt/comfort and medical drama, at least for now. This chapter isn't shy with depictions of battle injuries, blood/gore, pain, and potential loss of a sibling. It also includes Draxum trying to be a good dad, Casey being extremely competent in emergencies, and Donnie struggling against a panic attack that's causing him to become nonverbal. In future chapters we follow various characters as they deal with the aftermath of the Krang invasion.

So, if medical drama interspersed with many sweet family moments sounds up your alley, then I invite you to

Part 1 - in which the heroes return home

The portal slammed shut. Mikey turned his full attention to the brother they'd just rescued. After really believing him gone, their relief at his voice overpowered everything else that had happened that day. Mikey and Raph must have been having the exact same thought, as Raph scooped them all up into a group hug. Even Donnie didn't hesitate. The hug was cut short, though, as the brothers felt a weirdly crunchy squish from Leo a split second before he let out a wail of pain. Mikey froze but Donnie extracted himself from the hug and jumped immediately back into emergency mode. Putting his goggles on to scan his brother, the only words that presented themselves were "Oh no… guys, this isn't good. We need to get home, now." 

Raph responded, "Home? Shouldn't we get him to, you know, a hospital or something?" 

“No, I’m…” Leo tried to move, but that crunchy squishy sound came again, followed by another scream. He curled into a ball on the concrete between Raph’s knees. His left leg didn’t follow the rest of his body, dragging awkwardly as he rolled. Mikey unfroze, wiggling out from under Raph’s arm and taking a few shocked steps back. His eyes were screwed shut as though he didn’t want to see any more, as though he couldn’t stand seeing any more. 

Raph, panic barely contained in his voice, scolded his brother. “Leo, don’t move, you’ll make things worse. And DO NOT try to tell us you’re fine.” Leo moaned, his body shuddering. Raph could see red fluid starting to pool under him. Panic now even less contained, he bellowed “Donnie!!” pleading for help. 

"We can't go to a human hospital with… this whole situation… and a Yokai hospital wouldn't know what to do. My research has shown that Mutants and Yokai aren't as similar on the interior as our exteriors would have you believe. Unfortunately, the truth is that we, and by that I mean I,  am the most qualified." He couldn't keep the horror and disgust off his face, there was so much damage… his internal monologue picked up where his spoken words cut off. *Oh no, I’m the most qualified… we are absolutely screwed, I have no idea what to do. Oh no, oh no, oh no…* He could see the back of Leo’s shell now; it scarcely resembled the shell it had been only minutes ago. Now it looked like a hardboiled egg that someone had been about to peel, crushed and mangled. *You’re supposed to apply pressure to stop bleeding, but how do we apply pressure to his whole shell, let alone without making things worse? Oh no, oh no, oh no…* The blood puddle was growing, too fast for Donnie’s liking. *Maybe Barry will be able to help? He made us, maybe he knows enough to fix this… But where is he? Did he survive today? Oh no… oh no, oh no, oh no…* Leo was struggling to breathe, his chest expanding only the smallest amount before the pain of it had him gasping. *Focus, Donatello, think. What to do?* 

Mikey caught up then, looking at Donnie, "But how do we get there? Do you think April can come get us?"  

*Thank goodness, a question I can answer.* Pulling up traffic information on his wristband holoscreen, Donnie scanned it. Hopelessly he reported, "No, the traffic jam of people trying to evacuate hasn't cleared yet, she'd never be able to get here on time. And my jet pack can't carry us all that far. Raph, any ideas?" The panic thoughts were growing louder. *Oh no, oh no, oh no…* 

After a few agonizingly long seconds of thought, Raph looked down at Leo, curled into half a ball on the ground. He didn't look completely conscious. Raph could only see half of his face, but it wasn’t pretty. There was a gash on his scalp that was bleeding profusely, his cheek had a big dent in it just under his eye, bruising staining it black, there was a similar bruise around his jaw line, and a trickle of blood oozing through his lips. His eyes were closed, but it wasn’t gentle; it was a determined grimace. He was probably putting all of his attention into trying to breathe without screaming again. The last thing anyone wanted was to ask the injured brother to do something except focus on not dying, especially as the bloody puddle under him kept spreading, but lacking other options, Raph had to try. "Leo, buddy, you with me?" A groan, which sounded like it hurt, acknowledged the question. "Leo, we need to get home, as fast as possible. I know you're hurtin' bad right now, but can you manage one more portal? At least enough to get us back to the mainland?" 

Both of Leo’s fists clenched, as did the toes on his left foot, as he inhaled enough to speak. He didn’t scream, but he did moan. His words came out mushy, interrupted by pained panting. "Errrrmmm, yeh, anything to get off… uuuug… Staten Island… oh, um… aaah… anyone… seen my… eugh… swords?" 

Raph looked to Donnie again. He shook his head as he answered. “No, Leo, you didn’t have them when you came through Mikey’s portal.”

Donnie jumped onto the next course of action. “I’ll call dad. We should let him know what’s going on, and maybe he’ll know how to get us home.” Raph nodded. 

Donnie heard Leo mutter something about “thrown out before Casey pulled the key,” as he took a step away. Raph’s fear stink was potent, but the smell of blood and burnt flesh had crept into Donnie’s nose too, and it was making him queasy. As he lifted his arm to remove his goggles and access his gauntlet, he realized he’d started scratching. *I’ll deal with those consequences later.* Pulling up his holoscreen, he found an error message and realized that the system had crashed, triggering a fresh wave of *Oh no, oh no, oh no!* He was surprised that he hadn’t noticed or wondered why no one on the other end had been talking to them. *Must have been too preoccupied with… this whole situation. Mikey’s portal’s energy surge must have triggered the automatic reboot. Doesn’t seem to be permanently damaged, though. Well designed, Donatello, well designed indeed.* He tried to quiet the panic with reassurances. With one swipe he archived the error message to read later. With another swipe he pulled up the comms system. There was a second of static as it reconnected to April, Splinter, Casey, Raph, and Leo. Mikey’s just gave further error messages. *I’ll deal with that later, too.* 

“Dad, April, come in, do you read me? Dad, April, do you read?” 

The speaker on Donnie’s wrist crackled with his dad’s lifeless voice. “Donatel-”

“DAD! Dad, we need to get home RIGHT NOW. Leo lost his swords and I have no idea how to find them, so we can’t make a portal home, but we need to get him back to the MedBay AS SOON AS POSSIBLE or he’ll bleed out. There’s a miles-deep traffic jam so we can’t drive, even if we could steal a ca-”

“Donatello,” Splinter interrupted, a little more force to his voice now, easier to hear over the background noise. “Slow down. Start over, I don’t understand. Who is bleeding? What is happening?” 

Donnie took a breath, trying to organize his thoughts through the chatter, and started again. “We got Leo back. He’s alive.” There was a collective gasp from the speaker. “But he’s hurt, badly. He might…” Donnie couldn’t bring himself to finish the sentence as emotion threatened to take away his voice entirely. “We need to get home. Can you help?” 

“What is your location?” This time it was Casey’s voice issuing from the speaker. His microphone started picking up the sound of wind; he must have started running. 

Donatello responded, “We’re on the north shore of Staten Island, west of the September 11th Memorial.”

“Master Splinter, have you and Commander O’Neil changed location?”

“No. April is still engaged with the Krang where you left us.” 

Donnie’s fear spiked and his stomach turned. “There’s one left on the planet?!” 

Casey sounded equally horrified as he asked, “It’s still alive?” 

“It won’t be for long.” Splinter's voice was ominous, and perhaps a little fearful as well. That made the background noise make sense, at least… April was whooping victoriously, continuing to beat up the Krang. It sounded like she’d been expressing her grief through anger and violence… and was now celebrating with the same. There was no sound of protest from the Krang. 

Donnie and Casey spoke in unison, “Remind me not to get on her bad side.” 

“Yeah…” Splinter trailed off.

After a brief shared shudder, Casey went on, “Master Splinter, I’ll be at your location in less than three minutes. I have one of Master Leonardo’s swords. Do you know how to use it? I never quite got the hang of it…”

“Yes, I can make a portal.”

“Hurry, Casey!” Donnie added, somewhat frantic, “Three minutes might be more than we have.”  

“Yes, sir!” Casey’s voice issued from the speaker, the wind behind him picking up. 

Donnie left the comm line open as he rejoined the group. He filled them in quickly, “Casey found one of Leo’s katanas. He’s bringing it to Dad, who will use it to come fetch us and take us home.” 

No one responded. They all just stared at their brother for a moment, listening to the radio chatter from Donnie’s arm. Splinter was quiet, but April was still shouting and laughing as her bat made repeated contact with something squelchy sounding. Casey’s mic had auto-muted when he stopped talking. Mikey was clinging onto Raph’s right arm, looking down at Leo, clearly afraid to touch him. Leo was motionless aside from very quick, shallow breaths. The only indicator that he was still conscious was the crease between his eyebrows, which kept shivering and shuddering, and the tears steadily flowing from his face onto the concrete. They turned pink as they mixed with the blood flowing from several cuts and gashes. Donnie’s worry wasn’t lessened, but at least it wasn’t worsened, by his assessment of Leo’s continuing blood loss. The puddle hadn’t grown too much. The sight of it made his nausea worse, though. *Hang in there, Nardo. Gosh I wish we could apply pressure and slow the bleeding, but how? Everything is so broken, I’m afraid to touch any of it.* 

“Raph,” Donnie struggled for words for a second, resisting the urge to dry heave, “can you… can you pick him up? We should be applying pressure to slow the bleeding, but since it’s his whole shell… I don’t know, maybe your hand is big enough to do something? Even if not, we’ll need to move him, and it would be best if you could carry him.”

Raph, looking terrified at the thought, made eye contact with Donnie for a moment before acquiescing. “I’ll try, D. Leo? Leo, buddy, I’m gonna have to move you a little. Let me know if I’m doing something wrong, okay?” 

Leo grunted, making fists again and bracing for the pain. Mikey ran to hide behind Donnie instead. Raph moved slowly and deliberately, shifting his weight to go from full kneeling to having one foot flat on the ground. That would make standing up smoother once he had a hold of his bleeding brother. “Alright, Leo, I’m gonna touch your shell now, okay?” Leo nodded. Raph carefully lined up his arm against Leo’s back, grabbing his limp top leg to bring it into alignment for best scoopabillity. 

“AAAAAAAH!!!” Leo’s sudden scream made everyone jump, including Raph, who flinched away and let go of the leg, making Leo scream a second time. “AAAAAH!” 

The sudden sound hit Donnie like a bus, leaving him reeling. His ears rang. His thoughts were a cacophony. *Oh no, oh no, oh no… that made it worse! Why did I suggest picking him up? Isn’t there a better way? Oh no, oh no… what if we can’t get him home? No, no, no, no… there has to be something… something I can do… I can’t take him screaming like that again. Oh no, no, no…* 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I didn’t even touch your shell yet! What happened?” Raph looked mortified.

“Aaah… no, Raph, it’s… rrraaa… it’s my leg… I can’t… rrrr… I can’t move it. You’ll have to… aaah! You’ll need… grrraaaah…” 

“Hey, Leo, it’s okay, it’s okay. Do you want me to try again?” Raph said. 

*No, we can’t try again, not if it hurts that much, there must be something else we can do, oh no, no…* 

“You’ll have to. Rrrr… just don’t stop this time. I don’t think I… nnnyeh…  can be quiet… so you just… gotta do it anyway.” Each word out of Leo’s mouth sounded like it cost him something, interspersed with pained gasps and moans. 

*No, we can’t, don’t do it, don’t make him scream again, it’s too much, don’t…* Donnie’s thoughts kept spiraling but he couldn’t turn them into spoken words. 

“Are you sure, Leo?” Raph asked. 

“YES.” Leo nearly shouted. Raph got back down onto one knee, aligned his arm again, and this time he used his other hand to support the immobile leg while he rolled Leo onto his arm and stood up. The extra support didn’t help and Leo let out another gut-wrenching wail of agony, blood splattering against the pavement. 

*No, no, no, no…* 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry! Are you alright?” Raph asked Leo. 

“Eeeeh…” His scream trailed off into heavy, pained breathing. One of his hands reached up to pat Raph’s chest, then just rested there. “Yeh.” 

Raph brought his comm to his face, “Casey, how much longer?”

Casey’s out-of-breath voice answered, “Less than a minute.” 

Raph’s voice diverted Donnie’s attention despite the internal cacophony. “Mikey, your hands… was that from the portal?” Pulling his eyes away from the horrific sight of Leo’s distressed and disfigured face, Donnie felt a fresh wave of nausea roll through him as he finally looked over his youngest brother, noticing for the first time that there was a network of cracks and fissures covering his arms. A steady trickle of blood was seeping through the cracks, dripping quietly from his fingertips, and it seemed like there was still a faint gold glow beneath the crimson streams. 

Mikey looked down at his wounded arms, then closed his eyes again and crossed them in front of his chest. "Yeah. I think you've got it, too, and probably Donnie." A quick look at his own right arm told Donnie that yes, indeed, he seemed to have some burn damage, but it wasn’t as bad as Mikey’s. He wanted to check Raph, but the arm he’d held onto Mikey with was now supporting Leo and coated in too much blood to make out anything. He couldn’t even tell if any of that blood belonged to Raph. *It’s so much blood, too much… oh no, oh no…* Mikey’s fear was evident as he started talking again. "It'll be okay. It has to be. There's nothing we can't do when we work together, right Raph?" Mikey was clearly doing his best not to cry. 

Before Raph could say anything to comfort him, however, a blue light shone behind them and out stumbled Casey, immediately being leap-frogged by April. Mikey was the most available of her brothers so she tackled him first, knocking them both to the ground, doing a full somersault hug, then landing on her feet and launching herself toward Raph. The sight of Leo in his arms brought her up short though. Splinter came through the portal last, somehow holding both swords, and closed it. With one fluid swipe through the air he opened a new one. Donnie wondered idly how he got the second sword, but didn’t have time to worry about it. Finally, they could get Leo to some decent medical equipment! 

Splinter caught sight of the amount of blood on the concrete. A look of shock crossed his face, his eye darting immediately to the bleeding boy in Raph’s arm, and he issued one command. "Quickly, my sons." 

Donnie led the charge without hesitation, trying to drown out the worry by prioritizing the tasks ahead. *IV, gauze, sutures, what else? What can I delegate? Eugh boy, keep it together Donatello.* Gravity shifted for just a moment as he passed through the swirling halo of blue light, then righted as his foot made contact with the smooth concrete of the lower landing, just outside their MedBay. He had only taken half a step toward the door when he heard a yell from up the stairs. 

“WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?! I’VE CALLED YOU EIGHTEEN TIMES!!!” Barry’s hooves were stomping down the stairs as he hollered, but came to a screeching halt as Raph and Leo emerged from the portal. Donnie saw his eye twitch as he struggled to process the view before him. 

*I don’t have time to explain.* 

Donnie could tell he was on the verge of a meltdown, starting to go nonverbal, so there was a slight relief when the next words actually made it out of his mouth rather than staying locked in his brain. “Raph, put Leo in the hospital bed on the left; it’s the better one. Lay him on his side.” April and Casey tumbled through the portal as he spoke. “Casey,” the boy stood to attention when addressed, ready to go, “Do you have experience with these kinds of injuries?” 

“Yes, sir, I do.” He looked a little sheepish as he added, “A… a lot of it.” 

Donnie didn’t want to dwell on the connotations behind that statement, choosing to be grateful for his presence and nothing more. “Good. We’ll need your expertise. I’m a bit out of my field with this, the medical stuff is usually Leo’s specia-” The sound of another scream issuing from the MedBay cut off the rest of his sentence. *Oh no, oh no… what went wrong?* Mikey had just come through the portal, and was looking to Donnie for instructions. What had he been saying? *Oh no, oh no, oh no…* the chatter in his skull was getting louder, he couldn’t stop the panic rising in him, completely filling his brain, his lungs... he couldn’t breathe… couldn’t speak. *Help, please, I have to help him… oh no, oh no, it’s too much, too much…* 

Splinter was the last one through. He ran straight toward Leo without even looking at the rest of them. The portal fizzled out when he dropped the swords. 

*RRRAAAAGH NO, I can’t lose it now! Keep it together, Donatello, keep it together. Just a few more minutes. Your brother needs you.* Pounding his fists into his head a few times and giving it a good thorough shake, Donnie rallied his thoughts, pushing down the feelings and the vomit that were rising in his stomach, forced himself to inhale, and did his best to finish his part of the task at hand. 

“Casey, medical supplies are in the cabinets to the left. Barry, Leo is very badly injured and in need of immediate medical attention. As the person who created us, and a formidable scientist to boot, I hope you have some expertise to lend.” Casey and Barry made eye contact, nodded, and ran into the MedBay. *Good. Next,* 

“Mikey,” Donnie looked at his youngest brother, which proved to be a mistake. The sight of the burns on Mikey’s arms, more visible now that they were in a well-lit space, had Donnie curling in on himself as he tried to restrain his urge to throw up. He looked away quickly. “April, are you hurt?” 

"I might have a few bruises from getting thrown off the shellhog earlier, but I'm good enough to help. Where do you need me?" 

"Take Mikey upstairs and clean the ~burp~ burns. Once cleaned, get them ~eugh~ covered. Hopefully that'll ~gag~… slow the bleeding *oh galileo*… and we can deal with them better after Leo is *oh, keep it down*… umm… stable. I’ll send ~oof~ Raph next." 

"Roger that, boss man. Mikey, come with me." She dragged him up the stairs. 

Donnie took a few deep breaths again, trying to settle his stomach before joining the crowd around Leo’s bed. He was marginally successful. Looking into the room, he could see that Leo was on his side, as instructed, with Raph’s massive arm supporting his shell. His other arm was holding Leo’s left leg. Barry had his face uncomfortably close to Leo, poking and prodding, probably trying to ascertain the nature of the boy’s injuries. Splinter was standing a little ways away, looking despondent and disoriented. Casey was opening all of the doors on all of the cabinets, taking stock of their supplies. 

Leo’s voice, weak and rough, carried past the group, "No offense, pops, but you look like a drowned rat." Of course he was making jokes. 

Draxum replied off-handedly, "To look like a drowned rat he would need to be considerably more wet, as well as no longer breathing." Leo's chuckle was cut off, a groan escaping through his gritted teeth. 

Donnie sprinted across the room without a thought. "Leo, don’t…” his voice stopped working as he got closer than he’d been since he’d left the group hug. All of his senses were bombarded by everything he could ignore from a distance, everything his goggles couldn't show him earlier, everything he’d tried to avoid. His tech ran diagnostics and gave him the facts. His actual body gave him a much worse picture. He had caught a whiff of the smell of blood earlier, but now he was overwhelmed by it. Draxum must have already started an IV, as well, because the scent of saline was nearly as strong as the noxious odors emanating from Raph. There was a tinge of alcohol, probably a swab to disinfect the insertion site, which in larger quantities might have lessened the nausea, but now only served to heighten the anxiety triggered by what he saw. Blood. So much blood. Flowing freely from uncountable cracks in his brothers shell. He hadn’t been wrong earlier, when he’d compared it to a boiled egg ready for peeling. The entire surface of it was shattered. Not a single scute was intact. None of them were even left in halves. The largest piece Donnie could see was no more than three or four square inches. But it was hard to see much through the sticky crimson stains. Then there was his leg. Raph was supporting it; something was obviously incredibly wrong. There was inky black bruising showing beneath the edge of his shorts, and another enormous swath of black wrapping around his shin. The skin there wasn’t broken, but Donnie could still see where one of the bones had been snapped, a sharp point sticking out, threatening to tear yet another hole. Worse still was Leo’s face. From further away, Donnie had already seen that it was pretty messed up, but now that he was so much closer, well, he was glad he could only see a side profile and not the whole thing. The gash on his forehead was actually one of several, all of which were still seeping copious amounts of blood. There was extensive bruising around his eye, cheek, and jaw. The area under and around his eye had the strangest texture to it, like a sock full of jagged rocks, and Donnie realized that it was caused by more tiny pieces of broken bone poking up into his flesh at odd angles. His mouth didn’t have the same texture, but if the broadening black blotches were any indicator, those bones hadn’t made it through the ordeal unscathed. Leo winced at something and the gravely texture of his cheek moved. One small shard of bone broke through the surface, a tiny speck of yellowish-white visible for a half second before being obscured by a small drop of red. Then there was the noise. The MedBay wasn’t exactly designed for good acoustics, so everything echoed, amplifying the sounds of Casey rummaging, Barry’s exasperated tsks and tutts, Splinter’s huffing and puffing and wheezing. The worst sound, though, was Leo’s breath. Each inhale was short and quick, each exhale accompanied by a tiny moan. The distress in that sound was potent. Even Donnie, who wasn’t usually affected by other people like this, could feel his own level of distress ramping up to meet Leo’s with each breath. His own breathing became the same staccato pace as his brother, his head spinning, the monologue of thoughts stuck in an endless loop of *no, no, no, no.* 

"Dee, I don't like when you trail off like that… nyuurg… please just… keep talking…" Leo broke off, coughing, followed by a low, pained, frustrated groan “nnnnrraaaaaa!”  His eyes were screwed shut as he involuntarily curled in on himself. His breathing was getting more labored by the second. A new trickle of blood started running from his mouth. 

Donnie had no idea what to do; he couldn't find the words, couldn't make a decision. Couldn’t think. He wanted to run but he was frozen. It was too much. He couldn’t take in any more information, he was overloaded, it was too much… 

Casey turned around, arms full of sterile gauze and alcohol wipes and tape, and saw Donnie looking at Leo, frozen. “Master Donatello. Hey, Donatello. Donnie! Can you hear me?” 

Through the ringing in his head, he recognized his name. Wrenching his eyes away from the horror on the hospital bed, he locked eye contact with the strange human, who seemed to understand what was happening. “Donnie, we still need your help. Do your goggles give you diagnostic information? The Donatello I knew had a pair that looked just like that." Donnie still couldn't find words, so he nodded at Casey. “Can you send them to me?” He nodded again, and with two taps and a swipe sent the readouts to the monitor behind Leo. It lit up with all the color-coded data he’d already gathered, as well as the new data the MedBay SmartLair system started monitoring the instant anyone stepped foot through the door. "Great, thank you." Looking over them with an increasingly horrified expression, Casey muttered something about pizza supreme, then turned to the group. "We need to act fast. Barry, right? Put on gloves and start packing gauze into the two puncture wounds just beneath his plastron. Raphael, put as much pressure as you can on whichever hole isn't being packed. Master Splinter, go get ice and as many blankets as you can, and if possible, get Commander O'Neil to come help too. Ma- uh… Donatello, we need a deeper brain scan. He obviously has several concussions, we need to know how bad they are and if anything in his brain is hemorrhaging." 

Everyone jumped into action the moment Casey addressed them. Donnie was extremely grateful that someone else knew what to do, and even more grateful that his job could be done from farther away. He wouldn’t be much help now; he recognized that he had reached his limit and could feel himself shutting down, but setting up a brain scan was easy. Familiar tech. Good thing that he had designed it to work without the need for physical contact. Good thing, too, that it was one of the tools that survived Shredder smashing up his old lab. It took a considerable amount of effort to get his feet to move, but once he had uprooted himself, he was running. Onto the landing, down one flight of stairs, then two. Most of his smaller equipment was stored on the second level of the lab. He ran around the catwalk until he reached the right door, blew through it, retrieving the portable brain scanner he’d made several years ago. He turned it on as he ran back upstairs, taking the steps three at a time. He hadn’t connected it to his new tekko or the MedBay SmartLair yet, but his tech had enough backward compatibility that it didn’t take any coding, merely enabling his Genius-Built™ PurpleTooth short-range radio device connections, to get them talking. While his tech skills had improved drastically since he’d first thought up this nifty little device, he was still rather proud of it. It had a directional mode, to scan one subject, or an ambient mode, which just detected any energy in the room that could be a brainwave, isolated and localized it, then recorded it. He switched it to directional as he entered the MedBay. Avoiding looking at anything except the device, he placed it on the counter on the right wall, pointed toward his brother. He used the readout on his holoscreen to focus it on Leo’s brain. He dipped back out to the landing before the smell could reach him again. It would take a moment to code the scanner to track just Leo, and to translate the readings into something resembling an MRI for Casey to read. 

*Keep it together, Donatello, just a few minutes more, then they’ll have all the information they need to make sure that dum-dum Nardo doesn’t kick the dum-dum bucket.*

Next Chapter ->

[mischievousspooks]

His face hit the cold concrete, skidding a few feet as he got thrown across the subway station. Flipping over quickly, trying to get back on his feet, he saw the massive figure looming over him. Eyes glowing red, fist pulled back to strike... 

Mikey woke with a start as Raph shook him. "Hey big man, you okay?" 

His breath was coming heavily, and he could feel the bruising around his chest throb. "Nyurrrhhhg…" 

Reaching out, but afraid to do anything that might make it worse, Raph asked, "Want me to go get Casey? What hurts?" 

"No, don't… I'm fine. Just another nightmare." The pain in his side was actually helping. He was awake now, at home, and his brothers were fine, or at least close enough. He reached out to grab Raph's hand and pulled him in for a hug as the panting turned to sobbing. "I just can't get them to stop. I've done everything Barry has suggested, I've been doing the mediations like Dad said, I've even tried Donnie's sleep playlist, but they just won't stop." 

Raph didn't have words for this, so he just hugged his little brother as tight as he dared. "Want me to stay with you tonight?" Mikey just nodded, tears running down his face. 

[mischievousspooks]

FUCK 2024, BRING IT ON 2025!!!

[mischievousspooks]

[mischievousspooks]