Chapter Text
The human blinks. Only on pure instinct do empty eyes scan the surrounding area. Blurry shapes, White walls, white everywhere, the air does not burn his throat. It’s clean. Something inside him pings. He does not understand why that tibit is important to him. A distant buzz tells him he should focus on his surroundings, absent mindedness meant death. A larger, grieving, grieving, always grieving part scowls and says: screw off.
"You're awake." A large green-red figure says. Something in his chest aches. But feeling is a behind a metal door 3 layers reinforced and deep underground. The ravenette can only blink. Who is this large green figure? Why does he feel so important?
The large, green-red figure shifts awkwardly. "I uh.. Raph will just get Donnie now." The giant quickly ducks out, heavy curtain swishing behind him. The name sends a jolt up through the teen’s spine before being smothered by heavy, cottoned numbness.
A smaller, thinner green shape marches in. He grips a clipboard so hard it dents around his grip. He takes one long look at the bedridden time traveller, pauses, then raises his unprotected fist and punches it into the wall.
“BANG!”
Like most things, it is the sudden loud noise and the sight of split scales that give way that to the familiar metallic smell of blood that jumpstarts his Brain to DANGER DANGERRUNHIDENOTSAFE-
-and banishes the heavy numbness. The room no,the med bay sharpens into definition. White walls lined with cupboards of medicines, bandages, everything the medics, nurses and doctors of the resistance can only dream off. A thick heavy curtain blocks the only entrance. The smell of antiseptic stings his nose. His arms and back are covered in bandages and burn like they’re on fire. Blue.Leonardo. Key. Leave. Purple. Softshell. Donatello. This is Donatello.
With a strangled gasp, Casey lurches upwards and forwards towards the soft shell. Ignoring the hot white shrieking of pain that shoot up his arms at the sudden movement.“How-! Donatello! Why-?! Are you ok?!” The boy cries, scanning with the soft shell up and down with frantic practice for any other additional injuries. On autopilot, rote hands jerk out and grab the bruised and bleeding hand. Disjointed teal ripples skitter across their joined hands. Before it peters out like a cut wire.
Oh oh.Cj’s breath quickens. Useless. Pathetic. Casey is not surprised. After everything, he's grateful he even has this much. Not even Pa had this much. But that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt.
With a hiss, Donnie snarls and pulls his hand away as if burnt. The softshell pauses, forcing himself to take a deep breathe. Visibly calmer, he lets out a put upon sigh. “Well, I guess I was right.” The older teen huffs, casting the boy a side eye. “This is what would bring you back to us.”
Despite his best efforts, the rejection causes a violent shake through his shoulders. Unsettled, Cj curls into himself, quietly tucking his hands into the folds of the blanket to hide the trembling limbs. Ah. Of course. Why would he ever- and tries not to let the cold reception make his eyes sting with tears. Push it it down. He can’t-
Willing himself not to cry, the human forces himself to focus on the soft shell’s bruised fist. Greenish yellow patches already blooming around knuckles, nothing purple or black, it wasn’t even bleeding anymore too, good. No immediate intense swelling or oddly shaped protrusions either, so nothing broken. Just a scrap that will clear up in an hour or two. Courtesy of advanced mutant healing.
Case’s fingers twitch, resisting the urge to reach back for the bruised fist and feel around just to be extra sure, better safe than sorry. But misplaced familiarity and deeply honed instinct tells him that Donatello is barely tolerating him as is. There are so many questions Cj wants to ask, why is he here? What happened to him? Why did they bring him back here? Are they all ok? Have they been taking care of themselves? Eating well? Drinking well? Sleeping well? Please be taking care of yourselves. Please be ok.
But Case bites his tongue down. Doesn’t know if he’s allowed to ask right now. Doesn’t know if he’ll ever be allowed too again.
It hurts.
Taking his continued silence and downcast gaze as permission to keep talking. Donnie sighs and rolls his eyes. “Can I assume you are lucid and capable of responding to questions?”He asks, brow raised. The younger teen manages a half shrug in response. Frankly he feels like shit. His entire body feels like one big giant bruise and the mere thought of even talking feels like grinding stones around his mouth in some sad attempt to trick his body into thinking it actually ate. But this isn’t about him right now. So he sucks that up too. Usual procedure. Nothing new.
"Good.” Donnie nods briskly. “It's currently 8pm on a Friday. You're in the lair's Medbay for a severe bacterial infection from some untreated lacerations you sustained in your arms and back and have been experiencing catatonic disassociation for the better part of 16 days."
Casey stiffens. The smaller, sensible part of his brain shrieks, WHAT!? 16 DAYS!? Bacterial infection? Fuck. Nightmare images of pus, glazed eyes, glinting knives and the-ImsorryimsosorryIpromise Iwillmakethisquick-torrent through his mind. Holy shit how was he still alive? Those things are death sentences.
But the larger, morbidly amused part of his Brain, born from being raised by the world’s most chaotic family, quips; Hah! it's catatonic this time? I leveled up! A thing that is totally both normal to want and able to achieve. Which might have unintentionally showed up as slight upward twitch of his face, given the questioning furrow on Donnie’s face.
Cheeks warm, Cj ducks his head down again, mouthing a quiet ‘sorry’ and mentioning for the other to continue. Right. He should have known even his humour was out of place here.
"Anyways, in lieu of.. this whole situation.” The Purple banded teen gestures with his hand “I have some questions I need to ask." Donnie continues, flipping through pages, with renewed intensity. Which is fair, medical procedure and all. The ravenette inclines his head slightly to let the softshell know he was listening and willing to cooperate. It's the least he can do.
“What year is it?”
"2020." Casey replies promptly, and without hesitation. It was 2020 wasn’t it? Time couldn’t possibly have flown that fast.
Donnie's eyes flash. "Wrong. 2021"
The ravenette grimaces. Mouthing a silent 'oh’. And tries to ignore the niggling feeling that he should be feeling a little more than a slight jab at the news. He’ll deal with that later. Preferably never.
Meanwhile Donnie resists the urge to freak out. One question wrong? fine. It didn't mean anything. Catatonic episode aside, the veteran child soldier had somehow, miraculously just managed to barely avoid going septic. And compounded with the long term ramifications of prolonged dehydration and malnutrition, it was a miracle he wasn’t dead, much less coherent. He was either very lucky or very stubborn or both.
“Your age?”
”15. I-I mean 16.”
"Skeletal scans say you're at least around 20 to 22" Donnie can’t hide the frowns this time. Did the time traveler have brain damage too? No, his newly installed MRI scans would have picked it up. There were scars yes. But they were old. If Jones was having any recall issues it would have shown up earlier.
His bioscans were never wrong. Even when he wished it was. Zero brain activity, no recorded heart beat. No sign of life, Nardo, nardo please I swear-
Miraculously, the younger(?) teen somehow finds a way to shrink further into the already swaddling blanket
"There was.. an accident." Casey looks away.
"What kind of accident?" Donnie hisses sharply and jerks his head forward.
Maybe it was harsh but he was still pissed. Plus he had a right to know. For medical purposes if nothing else. No way some "accident" that supposedly aged someone 4-7 years forward had no lasting repercussions. If the human was to be believed, his body was already so fucked. They worked too hard for future boy to kick the bucket over some bullshit that could have been prevented, if he wasn't such a secretive bastard.
The boy hunches further into himself, mumbling something into the sheets. Peculiarly it brings to mind an image of Mikey partially popping his shell whenever startled. It twinges something in Donnie's chest. He ignores it.
"Speak up Jones." His eyes narrow.
In response, the human goes ram-rod straight as if a soldier being ordered to stand to attention before forcing his body to sag.
"It was a Ninpo accident." The ravenette explains at all, still adverting his eyes."I was trying to save.. someone. It didn't work." He slumps further.
Somehow stiffer and more miserable looking than before.
Well shit. Donnie officially regrets asking. Of course, there were mystic shenanigans. Didn't the human call Mikey, Master Michelangelo at some point? That implied some sort of teacher-student dynamic. Play stupid games, win stupid prizes.
Normally, he wouldn't be so quick to take any of this at face value, but it filled in biological discrepancies that couldn't be explained. Like the abnormally high number of stretch marks on his skin and strange puncture scars (as if bones were being grown too fast, too quickly for skin to cateh up it pierced through skin, muscle and fat) and while invisible, to the naked eye, it also made the eerily identical pattern of scarring on a certain box turtle hands and arms make sense.
Oh god, he is Mikey-sized.
But more importantly, not that the brief light show wasn't already proof enough, none of what the present Hamatos had picked up was a fluke after all. Soldier boy has Ninpo. Soldier boy was using Ninpo before he got sent back. And more importantly Soldier boy knows what Ninpo is.Good, this will make things much easier for them.
"Well, you seem lucid enough." Donnie concludes, putting the clipboard aside. "Might as well bring in the rest of earsdropping Calvary."
Eager to move on from the topic. Casey mused.Which is fair, he wouldn't want to stick around himself either.
"The Calvary?"
Donnie doesn't respond, in favour of pushing aside the thick curtain separating the medbay from the rest of the lair."Ahem, family? The hostage is grounded and fit for questioning." The softshell drawls.
Predictably they all try to flood into the medbay at the exact same time. Only to get stuck, tangled together.
"Raph! You're squishing me!"
"Splints I swear if you don't get your tail outta my eye!"
"Enough! You are all crushing my old bones!" It takes a few minutes. One disapproving Raph glare-
(once upon a time the snapper might have even lightly smacked the backside of Donnie's face, scolding something about reckless and what not. But that was then, this was now. He's here now and that's more than they can ask for)
-at the Softshell's injured hand. Before at last, the group finally settles. Limbs untangled and their curtain no worse for wear. And with it, a cloying silences descends upon on the group.
They all stare at future boy, future boy stares back, expectant and waiting. Donnie groans.Urgh, this was getting nowhere. Once again, he has to be the superior turtle and address the elephant in their room.
"The portal to the prison dimension. Why did you do it?" Donnie questions.
Something seems to uncurl yet harden in the teen at the same time. "I'm sorry." The ravenette says gravely, gaze boring to the ground as if willing it to swallow him whole.
"That isn't answering the question." Donnie reminds firmly.
Casey shakes his head, "I don't.. I can't." Because he knows these people. He knows. These people are good, they are so,so good. The last thing he wants is for them to start caring for him out of obligation. He doesn't want their damn pity.
"Knowing isn't going to help anything. It's over it's gone. If I could have taken his place- I swear." Cj wrings his scarred hands togather. "Look, you don't have to force yourself. You have a right to hate me." His face scrunches, as if the words themselves were poison to him. Casey forces himself to make eye contact with them, "you all do." He states, face hard with grim resolve.
"Whether or not we're hate you isn't up to you, it's up to us." Mikey chimes in, if he didn't know better, the turtle sounds almost gentle. Luckily Casey knows better. "But back then." the box turtle winces. "we felt you, Casey we did. Ninpo isn't just a part of us as individuals. It's also the parts from each other that we carry within ourselves. And we didn't know you'd be there. I think we at least have a right to know why." Mikey says softly, his eyes wide and pleading.
For the first time since he's been brought back here. The first spark of emotion beyound from primal fear and fatigue breaks across Future boy's gaunt face. "What?" Casey's eyes widen.No.No.This changes everything. "You can feel me, you can feel me..." His breath quickens, fingers digging crescents into his palms. Bacterial infection, he definitely almost died. Molten golden-orange, static purple, fiery blue, rocksteady red, bubbling indigo and branching green they all were there. But they sputtered out now, he felt them go. They felt him go. Oh god. These younger, squishier, family felt him going.
Casey ducks his head down not wanting them to see him like this. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry! If I knew you would feel-! I would have moved further out." He shudders, furiously squeezing his eyes shut to trap the tears in. He didn't deserve to cry. He didn't. Not after what he put the younger variants of his family through. First Blue, almost Teal. They weren't used to this, they weren't supposed to be used to this. They weren't like him. He was supposed to keep them safe-
"Casey." April takes a step forward, careful and measured, a complete 180 to mere 12 months ago. "What where you to future us?"
He makes a choked, strangled sound. In the face of all that, Case couldn't exactly leave them hanging could he? He wasn't that cruel.
"!." the feeling of bile rises up his throat. The ravenette swallows it down. Something old, bloody and jagged tells him there isn't enough food or water to spare if he throws it all up. "I was your son." He fixes a single meaningful eye contact on Mikey, pushing down the full bodied seize of tears that surface at the admission. He has to say it, he has to. Case never truly got to hash this out with uncl- dad. He can't bring himself to lie here. Not when there's no one else to remember them by.
He lingers long enough to see the box turtle's face turn to ash. Before the time traveler quickly looks away again. He feels like shit, he wants to throw up. Every word feels like swallowing glass which 0/10 he will not recommend. But he has too, he owes them the truth: he owes them this much, they deserve to know who exactly ruined their family.
Casey shudders, shoulders hiking up defensively. "And.. I was Sensei's kid too." His voice cracks, balling his hands into tighter bound fists.
He can't so much as see, so much as he feels them recoil back as if physically struck. It hurts, but he's always been good with rolling with the punches. They were his, always would be, never in doubt. But he wasn't theirs anymore. The tension in the air feels like a wire pulled taunt. It's as good as permission as anything.
The teen continues, "My mom, Cassandra. You may also know her as Casey" Casey clarifies. "found me as a baby on a supply run one day. I guess the rest of you must have thought I would make a cute nephew or grandson because you all kept me ever since. There's not much to say to it" Despite himself, Case still smiles wryly. Despite everything, being found by them, being chosen by them, god, it brings such a surge of warmth that will never go away. Being found was the best thing to ever happen to him.
Which was why, even now the teen resolutely refused to look up and gaze at the (definitely) devastated or even disgusted faces of the people standing before him. It would break him, this he knows. In the end, there truly wasn't anything special about him. He was just one very lucky kid. Maybe a little too lucky, if he was still standing here
“..and the portal?" Raph probs quietly.
With a sharp exhale, the human teen runs a hand iver his face. Then cracks his head to the side, releasing the tension stored within his neck muscles. Might as well, he's going to be a while. He grouses bitterly.
Taking in another deep breath, Casey then steels himself and lifts his head high, level with their gaze. Chin up, stand to attention. This decorum is the least he can give."I just wanted to protect you guys." He says softly, the soft voice at complete odds with the boy's stiff posture, squared shoulders and heavy gaze.
Donnie snorts,"protect us? Are you serious?!" He barks out a jagged laugh. "Newtons beard, I-!" The soft shell forcefully cuts himself off, and quickly steps back. "no.. no,no. Donatello you're trying to be objective here." Donnie grumbles quietly to himself, whilst pinching the tip of his snout where a nose should be, were he human. He likely intended for no one to hear him.
Unfortunately, Casey did. He always had sharp ears, that's what everyone always told him growing up. And despite his earlier convictions that final dig of indignation is all it takes for the tenuous hold over the emotionally fraught teenager's emotions-grief,hurt,anger,fear-to finally snap.
Inexplicably, (or perhaps it was a long time coming) a burst of tidal rage, built upon years and years of helplessness, of desperation, of having to choose the worst option, of having no option, because the walls were closing in, the Krang were coming closer, tempers were rising, the bodies kept piling, and food was running out. Raises its shrieking head and screams; How dare you.You know nothing.
"Shut the fuck up! You don't know anything!"Casey roars, slamming his fists into the duvet. "I never wanted to do this! I never asked to be here!"The teen jabs a finger at Donnie. "Maybe your mind is going to shit. But at least your mind is going to shit in peace!"The ravenette screams.
"You never have to worry about food or water, or when you're gonna die! All you have to do is focus on taking care of yourself!" The ravenette snarls."Have you ever had someone you who used to be your uncle, lose their fucking mind and try to kill you in a god damn temper tantrum?! Have you ever seen your uncle go off the fucking rails and almost kill his own brother?! Have you? Have you?!" Casey shrieks, throwing his hands out to the shell-shocked family, wildly.
"CUZ I FUCKING HAVE!!" Casey screams, feeling the breath abruptly leave his lungs. He heaves, suddenly aware of his peculiarly wet cheeks. Huh, since when did he start crying? And just like that, like a switch had been flipped, the anger is gone just as quickly as it came.
Bowled over by the heavy weight of exhaustion, his anger clears, and with it, the human's clarity returns. Oh god. Cj thinks, scanning the horrified and stunned faces of his family. Looking just as horrified as the day he told them about the Krang. What has he done? What has he done?
"I-!" The ravenette slumps. His breath hitches, "I'm so sorry-!" Casey sobs,the grief, shame and guilt, heavy and ever present finally reaching out to choke and steal his breath away. Why does he only ever seem to ruin things? Cj buries his face into his hands, but to no avail. it cannot hide the salty stream of tears flowing down his face. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to.." The boy shakes, "I'm so so sorry."
"They were good!" Casey warbles, frantically trying to scrub the tears way. "I swear! My family, you guys, you guys were so so good!"Because they were good. They were.
(Tired Golden-Orange heaves himself into the air, to scoop Cj into his arms.
Busy Blue who takes any meagre time he has to himself and spends it with Cj.
Prickly Purple finds away to colour all his armour a shade of teal, even his siblings are still decked in occasional shades of grey.
Overstretched Green always ready to pull her brothers back and scold; too guilty, too smothering, too harsh. Stop. You're hurting the kid.
Grumbling Oak Red, always scowling, always complaining but never failed to run a soothing hand through Cj's hair or let Cj play with his antlers.
Anxious Indigo, forever trying, forever distracting, forever trying to drag Cj into her games. Never mind that she could have chosen anybody for a big brother.
They tried so hard.They tried so fucking hard.
But none of it mattered.Because they lost.
The Krang won.
And he was still here.
And that hurt-)
"It's just-the war, the Krang!" Overwhelmed, the ravenette withdraws his hands into his sleeves and ducks his head down under neckline of his borrowed sweater whilst tucking his knees to his chest almost like a hiding box turtle. It breaks the present Hamato's hearts to know why. Like father, like son.
Slowly, gently, as if approaching a cornered animal. Calloused hands gently lift the boy's head up. "Master Splinter." Casey hiccups, shame pooling in his gut. No father wanted to hear how his sons went astray. "I'm so sorry, I promise your sons-"
"I know." Splinter cuts him off quickly, his eyes suspiciously shiny. "I know my sons will always be brave and selfless men. And.." he turns slightly, eyeing his sons and April intently. Just so they knew he was addressing all his younger charges.April may not be his daughter, but she was family and he was the adult. He owed it to her as well. "..l know no matter what happens, I will always love my family."
In response, all four (five it used to be five) of his charges immediately huddle together at his declaration, his Orange sniffs trying not to let more tears fall. The old man lets himself feel the first hint of satisfaction he's felt in a long time. If nothing else, at least this he managed to say this right.
One year is not enough. One year will never be enough. His son, his baby blue is gone. As much Splinter wants to shake his fist to the sky and wail- not him,not my baby,take me instead-He still has responsibilities, and staring down this emancipated teenager, skin for bones and fighting off the aftershocks of a near fatal infection. These are not the actions of a desensitised, hardened soldier, but a grieving, traumatised orphan.
And Splinter knew a lot about grieving, traumatised orphans. Heck, he was one. Still is, in fact.
His Go-getter Raphael and his big bear hugs dissolving into hesitant head pats.
His Donatello brave and brilliant who they always joked was more hermit mad scientist than turtle, becoming more hermit and mad than they ever wanted him to be.
His Loud and resilient April now silent as a mouse. Weighted down by the grief and exhaustion.
His Michelangelo more subdued than he had ever been. So full of guilt he quite literally glued to the lair, despite his wandering, carefree nature.
They would never be the same.
Slowly, the elderly mutant draws slow circles along the younger human's cheek. It works like a charm, the human boy calms, blinking away the tears. "I chose to close the portal, because I couldn't put you all through that again." He rasps, his eyes now hazy, drift away from the old man to the rest of the group up, cloudy and unseeing.
"I've never seen my Master Donatello so excited to use his geographical algorithms." Unknowingly Cj cracks a sad, crooked smile. It's achingly familiar, albeit it belonged to a greener more exuberant face. They try not to flinch. The shape is the same. Like father and son indeed.
"No matter how brilliant, how useful his work, at his best he was only mildly content. Before I met you l didn't even know he could talk that fast.Most of the time I think he just started to hate inventing things." Casey chuckles sadly, lost down memory lane. Meanwhile, Donnie can't help but shift uneasily at the evaluation. The thought of ever hating the art of invention was wrong. It was his whole thing. His love language, it was how he coped. It's how he was coping right now.
"Somewhere along the line. The apocalypse took it all away and then he died and never got a chance to get it back." The boy explains stiffly, withdrawing himself from Splinter's hand. He lifts his head up to the ceiling as if he was peering into something they could no longer see.
"And Michelangelo," Casey clenches and unclenches his fists. "you're really loud and bouncy. Big words lots of big movement, Master Michelangelo was never like you. You offered me pizza even when I was tied up."
The kid still remembers that?
"My master rarely spoke above a whisper. I can count the number of times he yelled on one hand.
Even on field it was hard to call his voice a speaking level. He was never that friendly to strangers either." Unbidden; his voice begins to pick up speed; "The Apocalypse turned him into something so quiet; so calm and so tired. If I hadn't seen met you, I wouldn't have believed you guys were ever the same person."
His eyes shift briefly towards April. April gulps, not at all excited to hear all the fresh new ways the universe can break her down. "April, my commander wasn't all that different from you. But she was very tired and become a chronic smoker." The way her face twists in discomfort, already says everything they need to know of her thoughts on that matter.
"Near the end, Master Michelangelo, Commader O'Neil and Sensei was the only ones left. Then you both all died. And it was just Sensei and me at the very end. Then Sensei sacrificed himself. I've never seen him so relieved in my life."
The group suck in a collective breath. A Leo sacrificing themselves hits a little bit too close to home.
"And I don't remember either of you." Cj gestures half-heartedly to Raph and Splinter. Raph can't help but shrink at the mention. "But I saw what losing you both did to them."
"Sensei, blamed himself constantly. He always told me you were both his heros. Whatever he did. He did it to make you two proud. He threw himself into battles, constantly. He was reckless, grieving. Some days it was hard to tell if he wanted to make it back at all. That's how He lost his arm." Casey drones robotically, remembering vividly just how much bloody chaos was wrecked that day.
If he wasn't already so emotionally spent, that alone would have resulted in a fresh burst of tears. More than anything he just wants to lay down, close his eyes and pretend this wasn't happening. But life was never fair. And he owed the present Hamato answers they asked off him.
"Master Donatello single handedly became fluent in Japanese and he built a robot version of Master Raphael." All eyes dart to Donnie. And Donnie..Donnie is pale. Like a person who looks like they have been caught red-handed.
April breathes, heart stuttering. "No you didn't."
"No!" The softshell snaps back quickly."! would never-I didn't." He shakes his head. "Not this time."
"My son..." Splinter cups the softshell's face, soft and sad.
"Let's just table this for now alright?" Donnie hisses, pulling away from his father. He gestures to the younger boy.
Mercifully Casey continues, "Commander O'Neil and Master Michelangelo were worn so thin trying to manage everyone until things managed to settle. Every second they weren't trying to mediate between Sensei and Master Donatello, or carry out their duties to the resistance, they were trying to taking care of me. If they slept at all." Briefly the corner of his mouth twitches downward, little flash of worn anger peeking through the thick sludge of numbing fatigue. Those hypocrites. Always telling him to take care of himself. Couldn't they see they were worrying Casey as much as they worried for him?
"My family.." Casey rubs his eyes. "They were so tired. it was so bad, you don't understand." The teen wraps his arms around himself. "If I could have taken Leo's place I would have. But I had to.
The war against the Krang dragged on for 24 years. I can't let you all turn out that way ever again." Cj bows his head down in shame, awaiting their judgment. His voice wobbles, betraying the mask of stoicism.
The silence is a thick and palpable one.
Raph gulps.
"Earlier Raph found you in the sewers-" the snapper winces, casting an apologetic look to his dad. "-eating rats, did you ever go to the surface at all?"
Head still bowed, Casey shakes his head morosely. "Im not sure. I don't remember much of anything. I think.. I think I tried to go up once. But I've never been to the surface myself before and it was all was just too much" he laughs bitterly. Figures that the one time the surface was safe to go up to, he would mess it all up.
It takes Donnie a while to notice the others have been casting looks his way the entire time. For a second he's confused. What was he supposed to do? But then he understands. Disaster twins, buy one get one free, do not separate. Two halves of one whole. He is Leo's keeper. And Leo was his.
No one knew Leo better than him.
Aside from dad, the person most shaken by Leo's death was him. Whatever the verdict on Cj, his verdict was the one the family will follow. Though he was pretty sure Raph and Mikey were already in the process of warming up to Cj.
There is just one last thing he needs to confirm.
"Your Ninpo.." Donnie steps forward and leans towards the teen,"it's some sort of healing power wasn't it?"
The rest of the family, save Donatello, recoil as if physically struck.
Casey freezes. Petrified. Going completely and utterly still. No more darting eye movements, not even breathing. Misty brown eyes go straight back from tenuous alertness to glazed and unfocused. For a moment, Donnie fears he pushed the kid too hard. And they have to wait another two weeks before he surfaces from the disassociation.
The apocalyptic grit proves him wrong.
A long keening wail explodes from the boy and he fully curls into himself again like he's trying to retreat into a nonexistent shell. It's high pitched, awful and grating like they just killed his entire family in front of him. And maybe they had
His composure completely shatters. The mask of numbness and fatigue he used to hide other emotions breaks completely, like the breaking of glass.
Casey curls deeper into himself and cries and cries and cries. In between gasps he tries look up at them and form words. Only to start choking on his tears. Repeating the same snotty miserable cycle.
It was uncomfortable and awful to look at. But somehow the Hamatos couldn't seem to look away like being unable to tear your eyes away from an oncoming train wreck.
At some point having had enough, Splinter leaves only to return and hand the boy a glass of water.
His eyes scream 'Can I?", Splinter pushes the cup into the boy's hands insistently, with a huff.
Distantly, Donnie remembers when he was younger. Screaming and failing his arms about in some meltdown, only for a cup of water straw in it to be pressed to his face, and a warm voice telling him 'Drink Purple. It will make you feel better' it was probably some sort of parenting trick to calm crying children.
The teen takes a small, mousy sip, it seems to do the job. "I'm sorry" the human mumbles, still blinking tears. "H-how?" He coughs. Which was fair, all that crying had to have done a number on his already sore throat. Donnie concludes, trying not to think about strange squeeze in his chest that came with the thought. He was not thinking about it. Nu-uh.
"Well;" Donnie starts, retrieving a wipe from his battle shell's compartment to wipe what was definitely not a stray tear from his part. "First off I want to make it clear that you are a terrible healer." He narrows his eyes at the ravenette.
This makes Casey Jones; future son of Cassandra Jones and ward of a long deceased Hamatos find a way to silently cry himself harder into further dehydration. If not for the IV tubes circulating Saline and Antibiotics into his veins keeping him alive that is. "I know." Cj whispers again. Big fat wet tears forming yet another puddle on the duvet, which if it weren't for the situation would have been mildly impressive. Just where was the kid getting all that water to cry from? “I’m sorry.” His voice hoarse.
And it is there here, right there, Donatello Hamato begins to think;
The truth is, he's always been a spiteful and petty person. Ask anyone in the family, they will tell you he can hold a grudge. Leo can blaze for hours, Donnie will simmer for days. Even now, the angry you you you, points accusing fingers at the cursed, bedridden human, You killed my twin.
And probably always will.
But he's tired. He's so so tired.
And he's so sick of losing anymore family.
And unfortunately, brilliant overthinker that he is, Donnie can't help but run back under newer, fresher and yes-loath he is to admit it- less angry, more depressed eyes. He can, urgh-understand Casey's reasonings. It has logic.
He can't speak for the others' behaviours, given his recent lack of presence (he's fixing that).
But a robot raph is something he would do.
Especially since crazed, near incomprehensible blueprints of a robotic twin has made it to his table at the peak of his lowest moments. But one four hour power nap and some coffee later, he always, always burned those blueprints, He missed his twin, god did he miss his twin. But this was A) literally impossible. No amount of programming can ever replace someone, much less a soul. At best, it will simply be a convincing replica not the genuine article. B) Crossing a line even he knows is unacceptable. C) The pain and horror it will inflict on his similarly grieving family will be devastating.
However placed in a world, where his usual crutches of coffee was gone and sleep, which would have been more elusive at the nightmare fuel that was the Krang, added with the stress of making weaponry and whatever else for an entire resistance to survive. Would he, theoretical Donatello, have been levelheaded enough to know or care he was making a catastrophic mistake? No. Definitely not.
To think Cj lived though all that and didn't immediately sock Donnie in the face out for the fury or pain, his Donatello undoubtedly inflicted is already more than Donnie would do if he were in Casey's shoes.
("Donatello, you were the smartest person I ever knew!")
No. Instead when prompted, Casey sang his master's praises, and looks at Donnie, looks at all of them, with all the love, care and steadfast belief that they are people worth trusting in, worth believing that they are incredible, capable and amazing people(possibly a little too much), as well as protecting them. Despite having never met this version of them and witnessing firsthand exactly what the right kind of destitution will twist them into.
This is Casey, who played a role in taking away his twin. But his twin has also always been stubborn, selfless and sacrificial. And a turtle who (still so young, too young) was still old enough to make his own choices and charming enough to get most people to agree with him.
Utimately the one who landed the final blow was the Krang not Casey. Which wouldn't even have gotten to that point if it weren't for the stupid foot clan (he seriously needs to convince Raph to let him make an exception to that no-kill rule for those fuckers. They were too dangerous. Period).
And this is Casey... who has indirectly saved him from making one of the biggest mistakes in his life.
Whose drive to care is so strong, it pulls him from whatever mental horrors that has him staring blankly at walls for 15 whole days and needing a feeding tube to function, to reach out and care for Donnie's self inflicted injury. Jones simply cannot stand well enough to leave them alone. Oh Fibonacci, It was so much like Leo it hurt-
Only their kind of Hamato can love like this.Twisted, bent and pushed-
(A Mikey sized healer stands over countless nameless corpses, a Mikey sized healer stands over their broken corpses unable to staunch the bleeding no matter what he gives up trying. Hey Junior, I think the apocalypse broke you too)
-into learning how to let go. But still it is theirs.
And the Hamatos of their time, do not have an apocalypse to teach them to let go of family like their future counterparts had.
There is already a gaping vacuum where electric, fiery blue used run through their shared space, occasionally egging them into a playful chase.
They don't need another. They can't have another.
No more. They have to stick together.
He's still angry. He'll always be angry and hurt and grieving and whatever else Mikey's manuel on bereaved people should be feeling. Everyone will always be hurting.
Raph might never hug them as freely as he used too. April might never be able to stomach staying over as often as she used too. Mikey might never bounce around the walls of their home or wander outside as freely like he used to. And their Dad might never come around to being present like he was learning too. And Donnie himself.. he doesn't know if he'll ever learn to breathe without a hitch in his step. Always feeling raw, always feeling as if everything was always shifted just a little to the left.
A world without their Blue is hell. But hell can always become so much worse. Can always make people become so much worse.
And this orphaned, displaced, dehydrated, malnutritioned in a way only years upon years of never getting to eat or drink well, kid has seen it, lived it. And gave up everything precious to him if it meant that hell wouldn't become theirs.
Stupid kid didn't even try to plead his case. He didn't demand anything. He asked for nothing.
They wanted him to leave, and he did.
Determined to stay away till it quite literally almost killed him, all because Donnie simply asked him too.
Stupid kid even apologised.
Leo would have loved you.
It's hard to only be just angry in the face of such annoying, almost Leo-and-Mikey-like love. Even for someone as petty and spiteful as him. Donnie can feel the beginnings of something soft and almost worried, start to co-exist alongside the hate, grief and anger when he looks at Junior. I'm angry, The purple branded softshell realises. I'm still angry but you're just a kid too and you don't deserve to be alone.
Leo would have loved to love you.
Two metal claws extend out from his battle shell.
One bearing tissue, and the other carrying his trusty spray bottle of hand sanitizer. His mind made up, Donnie sighs, feeling his shoulder sag from far, far more than just the weight of his battle shell. " -But the attempt you made for my hand was passable, So I suppose you make a semi-decent pain killer."
"Huh?" Casey croaks, big sad wet eyes still watering. Donnie grimaces. And sprays the hand sanitizer point blank at Casey's face. "You heard me." He grumbles.
Cj splutters, ineffectually batting at the air to clear the smell. The surprise breaks the kid from his crying fest. Hm, noted.
"Now blow your nose Junior Jones. You look disgusting." The turtle grouses. Tentatively, Junior takes the offered tissue like it's a trap and blows.
With a final nod, Donnie leans back, and turns to give the final judgement to his waiting family. "It should take another 3 weeks for the antibiotics to run its course. If our hostage tries to move before then, the tranquillisers are in the first cabinet to the left." The softshell announces promptly, marching to the Med-bay's exit. Uncaring to anyone who doesn't know him.
Luckily, his family do know him. Because April laughs, Raph shakes his head fondly, Mikey beams and Splinter curls his tail in amusement.
"Now if there is nothing else to discuss | will be in my lab till dinner. And yes, Mikey." Donnie rolls his eyes. Sensing the box turtle's immediate objection. "I will set my alarm for dinner as well as an auto unlock should I not leave within 15 minutes. Now good day." And with a wave, the softshell leaves the room, eager to retreat back to his lab to take a break from all these emotions. His included.
Then as if this was some unspoken que, the rest slowly depart, throwing one or two shy smiles at Casey's way. "Sleep well." Raph says to him. And then, he is alone. Left to the silence of the medbay, save for the occasional whirring of machines. Alone, yes. But not abandoned.
It doesn't feel like much.
It feels like waiting at the threshold and finally being allowed to cross over.
It will not be perfect.
But Cassandra Jones Junior has never needed much to begin with.
Perhaps, Casey thinks, with a small tinge of barely rekindled hope, as the lights in the med bay automatically dim for comfortable sleeping, that this could be the start of him being finally able to shake off a cold and lonely existence and be called back home.
He lets his eyes drift shut.
Yes, he was finally going home too.
..thank you.