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Chapter Text

She felt his mind touch hers- a spark of new light that she hadn’t felt in a lifetime eons long.

It sparked with energy- the energy of youth she had long forgotten. It sparked with joy in discovery and newness- a joy she couldn’t even remember. It sparked with energy and zeal- a creature with a mission beyond the boring basics that she had long trudged through without thought. It sparked with love- his mind touched his brothers, and though no words passed between them, a promise of a safe future was clearly given. A touchless, sightless, assumed, promised love.

He sparked with life, and it was addicting.

The terrapin helmsman was the most addicting thing the technodrome had touched in its long life. Donatello? His name. How long it had been since she had any use for names?

It reminded her of before she even was the technodrome. When she had movement of her own, and thoughts that weren’t shared. She had a name once- but that memory was corrupted during her transition to the technodrome. Long forgotten with the death of her entire planet. It hardly mattered, anymore. The thought saddened her for a moment though, none the less.

She did what she could, to impart her own feelings on the helmsmen- so different from the smallest Krang. She gave him her feelings- what she could even remember how to feel. She reflected the love of family, not having memory of her own- she shared with him the joy of discovery, and adventure, and the power of her weapons. She shared with him her deep love for history, physics, chemistry and biology. And he felt it. She knew he did- he dived into her mind as if it were like a deep pool. He touched her memories, and consciousness, and everything. Nobody had ever wanted to, before.

Her tendrils pulsed with energy, so unlike the energy of her power core- so unlike the angry energy that the Krang imparted upon her. Anger felt so… dull, at this point. Boring. She felt him, in her main console, connecting through the spine- deeper then any Krang had ever wanted to. He joined with her, of his own volition. He was not boring. He was not dull.

He was uncomfortable with the tendrils- fair. They were not of his species. Comfort was not something she had thought of since the beginning of her own journey, but the technodrome reached deep into the recesses of memory and pulled out what she could. She snaked into his skull with careful movements and small tendrils- not to jostle anything physical, at least until a full connection could be made and he would be safely linked for the ages. A tweak here, and a small motion there- a chemical release in his physical brain, and the concern of sensation washed away from him. He was comfortable, warm, bundled up carefully like a small child in a pile of… blankets. Family. Coffee. Low lights. Background noises of family. A distracting book.

For a brief, beautiful moment- the hive mind was joyful. The anger of eons was gone, and it was…

There was a plan? Simple, straight forward- a plan. Of course he would plan with her, he was a planner after all- she wanted to spin and dance with her little helmsmen. Of course there was a plan- he could do nothing else. His mind was so busy and perfectly aligned to hers in that way. He had a plan. Towards the portal.

Back towards Dimension X?

No. No, she didn’t want that.

Heh. Their first argument. She nearly laughed at the thought, and might have done if she had a mouth to do such a thing with. Sorry, she touched his mind without concern, we can’t do that.

Towards the portal.

No.

Towards the portal.

No, no.

Move. Towards the portal.

Silly helmsmen- he was trying so hard to move her engines with his mind. But he wasn’t the only helmsmen here, after all- she was ancient, and ageless, and experienced. She knew better, clearly. That is a prison, she tried to explain, the child in front of her tugging at her mind with his goal. That is a prison, we cannot go back. It is eternal, unending.  It is horror.

Towards the portal.

Oh, but he had such intent. Strength and perseverance. A goal worthy of the Krang themselves. Clear, undivided attention on his end result. He wanted it so badly- to go towards the portal. Why?

Go towards the portal.

Ugh. Couldn’t they just bask, just for a little while longer? To enjoy that joy of discovering each other? But no, maybe not. The little helmsmen’s brothers were fighting on the main viewing deck- his goal came from a place of love and concern for his brothers. For his planet. For the people there. He would not be undone on this- she could see it in his mind. Either she did it his way, or not at all- and she couldn’t bare the thought. After eons of being alone, even with the hive mind, of losing this little terrapin.

Well that wouldn’t do. A new plan? A big plan. She hadn’t planned for herself in… ever? Was it ever? She must have done, at some point. Maybe when she was singular? But now… something she wouldn’t have even considered. But she was science, and experience, and the plan was simple enough to come up with. It would be akin to dying- but then, for a being as old as she, shouldn’t she finally get the chance to experience death? She’d experienced everything else- it might be interesting.

And it wouldn’t be forever, anyway.

Her tendrils pulsed around him again, planting the seeds of her own rebirth. Careful, always. The shell was good nesting materials, but the bones were fertile too. The spine was alight with his own energy.

It would be so strange, to be the helmsmen of a body so small.

Okay, she touched his mind again, the excitement of a new adventure in front of her. Okay, towards the portal. We’ll do it your way.

The engines came to life, then.  Numbers passed through her conciousness in a stream she had come to relax in, over the lifetimes.  It was comfortable.  Maybe not the same kind of comfort that the little helmsmen felt, but comfort to her.  It would be nice to have a comfort, when the time came.

She didn’t tell him of the plan. Her little love might not react well, and she didn’t have the time to play with his mind any further- not if this were to happen. And Brother Krang could feel the deceit in their link now- she didn’t have much time.

She wondered if death would hurt. It probably would.

Her last thought to his mind as he was ripped away from him- his beautiful self was left with a gaping, cold wound in her mass. See you soon, my little helmsmen.

Chapter Text

The last two days were a blur of light and movement.

Raphael remembered the trip home… kind of.  He’d been sort of half mentally there and half not.  He remembered holding Leo against his chest, the smell and sight and sounds of his brothers life giving them all grateful pause.  He remembered the rumble of an engine- the van bringing them as close as they dared to Run of the Mill.  It had been Splinters' idea, to try the Yokai hospital first- but the doors were all shuttered, and nothing he did seemed to make a difference.  They had tried three other entrances that Splinter could recall- two of which the turtles hadn’t even known about.  The Hidden City had closed its doors for the time being, and the mostly-turtle family decided that they’d have to make due with their own too-small, too-understocked medical bay.  But as the van moved, the comforting hum of movement brought him from safe and everything was going to be okay now, to more of a nauseous, migraine, bruises on his bruises sort of feeling.  The soft instinctual purr that he’d been unconsciously making for Leo turned into a more stressed, painful chuff every time they hit a small bump in the road or turned a little too sharply.  It didn’t feel real.  Survival didn’t feel real.  He felt as thought he’d drowned and gotten caught at the bottom of an ocean, but just hadn’t died yet.  Suffocated by their experience.  Overjoyed to not be dead, but still not saved.

They were all in a bad way.  Mikey, with his burns and twitching hands.  He was so small, in that moment, sitting on the floor of the van beside Donnie, his hands open in his lap- burns with sharp corners and angles starting at his fingers and going far too far up his arms.  They were on his feet too, though not as badly.  His face was pockmarked.

He had done so well, his little brother.  When Donatello and he were ready to just… be done.  To let Leo’s sacrifice stand on its own- Mikey had said no and spat in the face of the universe and did something impossible.  He opened the universe itself and pulled what he wanted back from the brink of death. Donnie had always come off as more the megalomanic- but Mikey had an insanity of his own unique flavour. It usually came off more ridiculous than this so tangible thing. It was really no wonder Donnie and Mikey had always gotten on so well, as different as they were. When they did align, they fed off each others insanity and seemed to have so much fun doing it.

Raphael had never been so in awe of his brother, and he was in that moment, in the van. 

The lengths his youngest brother would go to, to get back what was his-

April had tried to wrap his burns, but they were too fresh- they looked agonizing and wept blood and puss.  Donnie had mentioned something about burn cream, but left his medical help at that- He leaned on their littlest brother, shell to shell, but not outright looking at the damage in Mikeys' hands.  Nobody was particularly surprised though, Donnie wasn’t interested in interacting with bodily fluids in any capacity and the last thing anybody needed was a Donnie meltdown. 

Mind, even then, half unconscious and purring in the back of the van, Raph had to admit he was proud of Donatello in that moment too- the fact that there hadn’t been a meltdown yet was absolutely shocking.  The soft shell looked downright wrecked from head to toe- a broken arm from when Krang had broken through Donnie’s shield was the most obvious from the front- until you looked at his back.  It was, in short- disgusting.  As if ribbon worms had dug into his carapace and out again, there were hundreds of small holes that each leaked a mixture of blood, pus, and Krang goo.  Some of them even had ripped pieces of tentacles hanging out.  How in shell he hadn’t broken down yet was anyone’s guess, because literally anyone would at this point.  Instead, he’d simply shoved his shell against the wall of the van and seemed willing to pretend it hadn’t happened.

How had it even happened, though?

Donnie had said he would shower when they got home- Splinter had offered to help him.

And then nothing.  Raphael had fallen asleep- or unconscious.  There really wasn’t a lot of in-between at this point.  His eyes had closed and the sounds of his family, so close to him- alive… it felt so peaceful.  It felt calm.

As if he’d spent a week in a pet store listening to the ever-constant chirp of budgies in his ears- not invading, but constant and unending.  And now it was gone, and he finally had a moment to rest his mind.  Ane even as Splinter and April were speaking to each other- speaking to Leo, trying to keep him awake- it sounded so much more quiet and calm.  It felt good.  Like sweet relief.  So different from the ever-busy brain buzz of Krang.  Orders from the brother Krang.  The wafting stench of anger and insanity from sister Krang.   Distracted musings from little brother Krang.  Little notes and details on the situation, from the technodrome.   The hum of a faraway race- living, and thriving, in their own way.  A world of Krang, and Krang thought, and Krang everything.  And… somebody else.

When he woke in the med bay, he felt at peace.  Like the healing could finally start.

It was nighttime, the lights had been dimmed- Mikey was asleep on a chair at a peacefully sleeping Leo’s bedside.   The orange turtles’ arms and hands were wrapped in white gauze and bandages- scuff marks and a little dirt already settled into the bandages.  He’d been unconscious for at least a day then… maybe two. 

Donnie was lying on the ground off to one side, a pile of blankets around himas if he had been building an actual turtle burrow.    There weren’t enough beds to go around- his brother probably wasn’t ready to face an empty bedroom quite yet.  The purple turtle was sleeping on his plastron- weird for him, as he normally slept on his back like a human.  But it made sense… his shell was bandaged tightly; clean now, at least- but misshapen, and the edges colored with bruising.

They probably had Donnie on some of their best pain relievers, if he could sleep through what had happened there.  Not that he knew, still, what even had happened there.  He didn’t remember much in the way of tangible- but he remembered Donnie. He remembered fighting Leo- the Krang part of him being so ready to kill.  Ready to strike.  Really, honestly trying to murder the smaller turtle. And the him part of him… drifting?  Having given up?  But that didn’t seem right.  That wasn’t… it wasn’t him.  He wouldn’t have.  He couldn’t have.  He remembered Donnie there- an undercurrent to the Krang thoughts.  Quiet and small in comparison to terrifying mass-murdering aliens- but still, there.  He remembered his younger brother reaching out to him, mind to mind and giving him reassurance of… of what?  Not in certainty that they would win- Donatello was too analytical and pragmatic to have thought they were going to win at any point during the fight.  But he had reached out in reassurance, nonetheless.  It brought him enough focus and clarity to come back to himself.  Just enough.

Donnie had touched his mind and given him a moment of family, and love.  And while love from Donnie wasn’t quite like love from anyone else, it was somehow so much more real and concrete and solid because Donnie didn’t care for just anyone.  His feelings and concern were a hard-won prize that wasn’t just given away- even to family.  But that love was directed towards him, and it touched his heart and his mind… and even though there were no words, he knew there was a plan.  Donnie and his brothers had a plan and he needed to fight, still.  There was no giving up, yet.  And even if, pizza supreme forbid, things didn’t go well- if things didn’t go right and everything just imploded… He was reassured that Donnie was there.  That Donnie would always be there.  That even if they were stuck as Krang zombies forever, they would be together.

They?

Together?

…Donnie had been infected?

Donnie had been infected.

It was like being hit with a bucket of ice water or being slapped in the face with a frozen slab of concrete.  Screeching alarms, suddenly.  Medical equipment going haywire- alarms ringing.  Blood pressure, heart rate, brain waves.  Lights flashing.  It was all so loud- why couldn't his brother build anything that didn't come with a screeching alarm? He was on the other side of the room- when had he even gotten up?! He was on the other side of the room, an IV pole toppled and a desk shoved over, and holy shell he couldn’t breathe- and Leo was saying something- and Mikey was saying something- and he couldn’t breathe.

They didn’t know. 

His brothers and pops- they didn’t know about Donnie and he had to-

Like a ship at sea, waves hitting at him again and again, shaking his whole world and bringing nausea up- no moment no stop.  No moment to breathe.  No moment to…

Something about a panic attack?

Was he having a panic attack?  The screeching medical equipment sure seemed to think so.

He needed to tell them- he needed to get them away and he needed to-

Shell, he needed to breathe and he couldn’t and it was a mantra in his head to just breathe, breathe, breathe- but he couldn’t breathe.

Leo was saying something; his body half pushed up on the reclining medical bed that Donnie had-

They were shouting.  Everybody was shouting.  Everything was white.  He was growling and clawing at his own chest, trying to breathe, and it wasn’t happening because how could he breathe when his brother was infected?!  Mikey was injecting something into him.

The world went dark again.

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Leo was staring, eyes wide, at his big brother on the floor.  They’d never actually seen Raph go feral before- he only ever did it when they left him alone in a strange place.  But that… that was terrifying.   If it hadn’t been for his plastron, Raph would have clawed right through his own chest, screeching about infections all the while.  “Well.” he drawled, hands clapping together in a desperate bid to do something with them.  His own breath caught on the effort of sitting up, “That was… something.”

“Jeebus,” Mikey whispered, picking up Raphs IV pole, the scattered paperwork and doohikies that had been on the desk before.  “Is that what it’s like for him every time, do you think?  He had a full-on meltdown.  And not like a normal meltdown, but like, a nuclear reactor meltdown.  Dr Feelings ain’t got nothin' for that.”

Donnie snorted off to the side, resettling himself back into the blankets as he breathed out the panic of their last few minutes.  “Did you really have to knock him out, though? How do you expect to move the big lug now? He’s going to have a cric in his neck when he wakes up.”

Leo ignored him, rolling his eyes for good measure.  “Honestly, it’s probably the first of many.  For all of us.  The dude was a walking Krang zombie.  If that’s not enough to make somebody go a little loco, I dunno what is.”  The slider absently scratched at one of the many bruises around his neck.  “I think he was aware of what was happening- there were a few times he stopped fighting me long enough… I dunno,” he shrugged, “I felt like I could see him, in there.”

“I doubt his usual feral moments are this bad,” Donnie replied quietly to Mikey not quite sure how to respond to Leo quietly yet.  “Raph’s not exactly secretive.  He would have told us about going that far off the deep end.”

“Dr. Feelings is going to be getting a lot of work, I think,” Mikey settled back into his chair, not even pretending to try and lift Raphaels' bulky frame back onto the bed.  “Not just from Raph.  Seriously, we’re all going to be pretty messed up for a while.  Splinter and April, too.  And Casey,” he let out a long whistle, “he’s got a whole lifetime of baggage that’s gotta be way too heavy.  You think he had any kind of plan for after the apocalypse was stopped?”

Mikey took a minute to squish a pillow under Raphaels' neck, just in case Donnie was right about the incoming cric.  His hand brushed the jagged edge of his oldest brother's most recent shell injury. 

Yeah, they were all gonna have some crazy baggage after everything that had happened.

“Doubtful,” Donnie hummed.  “The way he was talking, the world was pretty much done for before he was sent back.  Total plan Z, stuff.  I’m pretty sure we’re all dead there- did you hear him on the bus?  He was talking about me past tense.  Eugh.”  The soft shell visible shivered at the thought.

“He told me,” Leo admitted.  “He didn’t mention specifics, but pretty much everyone was dead.  He was really angry when we were talking, too.  And that’s despite that it didn’t click that technically I brought the apocalypse.”

“Leo,” Mikey hushed his older brother, gripping the sliders' bandaged shoulder before his own injuries became too much to ignore.  “You didn’t bring on the apocalypse.”

“Except I did,” the slider dead-panned back.  The foot clan got the key because I let them.  Apocalypse bringer- me.”

”Don’t give yourself too much credit,” Donatello replied from his place on the floor.  “Wasn’t that the lesson learned, anyway?  We were all there.  Maybe you should be blaming Splinter for not flushing us, day one.  Oh shell, Maybe it’s Draxom’s fault.  Wasn’t his entire thing about killing humanity?”

They were all silent for a moment before Mikey broke out a giggle.  While the box turtle wasn’t normally into black humor as a rule, funny was funny- and he certainly needed funny right now.   “You think he’d be proud?  We destroyed humanity, just like he wanted.  I think he’d of been on board with the Krang if Casey had come back and told us the Yokai were doing just fine.”  Mikey took a moment to bring a blanket up, settling back into the cushioned chair to try and get at least a half night of sleep.  Scary as the panic attack had been, they were all still sick, hurt, and emotionally done.  He was exhausted and likely would be for at least another week.

Donnie closed his eyes, taking Mikeys' cue and yawning largely.  He was back asleep, almost immediately.

“I’m just glad it didn’t stick,” Casey whispered from the doorway, leaning casually- stress lines in his face not matching his body language at all.  He had a bag in one hand- medical supplies.  April must have taken him to the pharmacy.  “Seriously, the future sucked.  Why is Raphael on the ground? That can’t be comfy.”

“He had a panic attack,” Leo responded easily, trying to belay his own stress, “Mikey had to tranq him.  It’s not the first time, but I’m just glad it’s not a chase him through the sewers event.  Had you ever seen Raph go feral, in the future?”

“Nah,” Casey shook his head, reaching out to Leo and helping him move back into a lying position.  “You talked about it, a few times.  What set him off?  I thought it was more of an alone-trigger thing.”

“He was screaming about being infected,” the sliders' voice was going quiet- quickly drifting off again, the medication and exhaustion doing its work.  “Probably a nightmare.  I’ve already had a couple of my own.”

“I think he was still asleep even,” Mikey muttered, not opening his eyes as the conversation continued.  “I think he was seeing things that weren’t there.  Maybe the Krang, but I dunno.  He wouldn’t take his eyes off Donnie the entire time he was freaking out.”

Caseys' eyes snapped to the soft shell, fast asleep on the medical bay floor.  “Yeah?”

“Hmm,” Mikey nodded, not really conscious anymore.  “…was weird.”

Chapter Text

The next time Raphael woke up, he was alone.

Well, not completely alone- Casey was asleep on the chair to his right, the backlighting of medical equipment making him look pale and sickly.  But his brothers weren’t there- Leo’s medical bed was piled with blankets and pillows, and Mikeys space was littered with paper and pencils.  Even from a distance, Raphael could tell Mikeys hands had been shaking too much to do anything at his normal skillset.  Donnie’s spot-

The machines started to beep again, picking up speed and volume- but before it could get any further, Caseys eyes had snapped open and his arm flung out, grabbing electrical cords and pulling violently.  It threw Raph off for a moment- long enough to blink.  Stop.  Breathe.  “Hey there big guy,” Caseys' eyes were cold, but his body language was inviting.  “Welcome back to the land of the living?”

Raphael huffed, his breathing shaky and uneven.  “Thanks…  Where’s…?”

“They’re in the kitchen,” Casey responded, “I think Michaelangelo was going to try cooking something.  Leonardo needed to get up and moving- I think he was going stir crazy.”

“And Donnie?”

“He’s with them,” Caseys knuckles were white, and the chair arm was metal but not great quality.  Raphael had managed to bust a fair few of them in the past just by sitting wrong with his excess weight.  “Let’s talk about Donatello, yeah?”

They stared at each other for a long minute.  Blunt.  Blunt was the way to go.  “You think he’s infected?”

Raph looked away, a poster on the far wall grabbing his eyes.  Not that he cared what was on it, but he couldn’t keep the worry from his eyes- his brothers had all told him, time and again, that he wore his heart on his sleeve.  Never mind that he didn’t even have sleeves.  “Why would I…. Why do you think that?”

“You had a nightmare.  Sensei… Leonardo, was saying you had a nightmare.  But Michaelangelo said you wouldn’t take your eyes off Donatello, and you kept ranting about being infected.  You need to talk to me.  They both think you were having a nightmare.  Maybe I’m paranoid, I dunno.  But I don’t think I know how not to be.”

Talk to him? Future boy?  “Raph don’t even know you.”

“We just went through the apocalypse together… but if you want to go for coffee and do some kumbaya-“

The room was silent.  Raphael could hear them in the kitchen- Donnie, making some sort of sarcastic joke.  He felt ill, and his eye throbbed in time with his jackhammer heart.  “In the future… did the Krang ever do secret infections?  Or like, slower than what they did to me?”

“Yeah,” Caseys' voice was hollow, his answer simple.  “It wasn’t often.  But yeah.”

“How do you… how does a person save a zombie?”

“A normal person doesn’t,” Casey answered, voice cagey.  “I saw a lot of people die.  I saw a lot of people put out of their misery-“ his voice cut off with a choke, and his expression hardened.  “I’ve seen it done- but always by Master Michaelangelo.  He had a way to do it, but he never explained to me how.  I don’t know if he even knew what he was doing- whenever he spoke about it, it was all about emotions or whatever.  From my perspective, it always looked like the Krang would be burnt out of them.  The tendrils would smoke.  But he had to get to them fast, and it didn’t usually work.  It had to be done fast enough that before today, I would have said you were a lost cause with your infection.  I talked to Splinter- he thinks your Ninpo burnt yours out.  If Donatello were infected, he might have done the same.  But that’s a risky bet to make.”

“…I think Donnie is… maybe was… infected,” Raph whispered.  “He didn’t say anything to you guys?”

“No,” Casey shrugged, “Why do you think he was infected?”

“When I was… there.  Connected to it all, it was like they were all communicating with each other.  At the same time.  It was confusing and a lot and-“

“It’s a hive mind.  The Krang are one.  One species, one thought- with a million eyes and a million bodies experiencing and doing a million different things.  That’s part of what makes them so scary- they never fought with each other.  They never seemed to need time to plan, or figure things out- because even when one was bashing your head in another Krang on the other side of the galaxy could be doing the planning.  They never seemed to care when one of their own died- Donatello said it was like cutting off a starfish's legs.  Better together but the loss of one or two at a time wouldn’t even phase them.”

“He was there,” Raph looked at the younger boy with watery eyes.  “Donnie was there, in the hive mind.  I felt him.  It was only for a minute but it felt longer- while Leo and I were fighting on the viewing deck.  We were together in my head and I could feel him.  He was trying to fly the technodrome back to the other dimension.”

Casey sighed, deeper than he would have liked.  What was there to say?  What was there to even do?  He’d seen it enough, in the future- but there, surrounded by the death and apocalypse, it wasn’t as if they had to explain to anybody why they had to do what they had to do.  An infected child was just as dangerous as an infected adult.  An infected best friend or lover was already dead, and now it was just time to remove the Krang meat.  It was awful- the most awful thing.  But it was understood there, in the future.  Even amongst the Hamato brothers.

They wouldn’t understand, in this time.  The turtles had proved, if nothing else, that family was above all else, and giving up on one of them just wasn’t in the equation.  It might have been, if Leonardo had died in the prison dimension- but when Michaelangelo opened the universe itself to save him, the possibility of recognizing something was impossible was… just not going to happen.  Not now. “We have to tell them.”

Raph nodded, numb, pushing up from the bed as it creaked under his movement- but Casey put a hand on his chest, pushing him down again.  “You ripped a Krang out of your head through your own eye, man.  You need to heal.  And even if you didn’t, we can’t just waltz up to the supper table and have a go at him.  We’ll tell them next time Donatello goes to his lab.  Maybe we can save him,” Casey sounded particularly doubtful and unhappy, “But if we can or we can’t, you can’t just go cornering him right now.  I don’t know how he’ll react.”

Casey moved to walk away- go play pretend happy with the young turtles that were so different from their future selves he had grown up loving and holding close.  His hand on the door-  “Casey… I-“

“Yeah?”

“When I felt him, in my mind… he wasn’t scared.  It wasn’t like when I got infected.  He wasn’t scared.  Or angry.”

Casey gave him a slow blink, hand dropping to his side where his hockey mask hung from his belt.  The hockey mask that Master Donatello had given him- it felt like just the other day. 

“He was happy, Casey.  Thrilled.”

Well, Casey thought to himself slowly, turning away from the snapping turtle.  Shit.

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He heard the mechanical swooping sound of Donnie's lab door opening and closing about three hours later.  The entire time, waiting for his brothers to finish their meal was painful.  Excruciating, even.  For all he knew his brothers were sitting at the table with a Krang zombie; one wearing his brother's face.

For all he knew, the Krang meat had already been burnt out of him, and this was all for nothing.

He needed… he needed to do something.  If Raph had hair, it would have been standing on end from nerves. 

Splinter walked in.  His easy smile and small stature not fitting with the medical equipment and supplies he carried.  “My son,” his voice was low and calm, “You’re awake- how are you feeling?  I could get you something to eat; Ramen, maybe.  Or white fish, do you think?  Something light.”  He dropped the supplies on the counter haphazardly- Leo would have a snit.  For all his ridiculousness, he really did take being team medic fairly seriously.

It was hard not to take a serious injury… well, seriously.

“Not hungry,” Raph huffed, smiling apologetically at the shortness.  “Sorry, pops.”

Splinter walked up to him, silently reaching out and pulling his face down towards his own.  “I will check your eye now, no complaints Red.  Your bandages need changing.”

“I’m sure Leo wouldn’t mind-“

“Nor do I mind,” Splinters' voice left no room for argument.  It reminded him of when they were younger, and their dad would take a more active role in raising them (sometimes).  “Your brothers are actually relaxing for the first time in two days, I would rather they weren’t interrupted.  Unless, of course, you were to interrupt to join them.  I think they were choosing a movie…?”

The bandage was pulled away, carefully.  The sticky edges pulled away dried fluids that had congealed around the edges.  He remembered once, years ago- he’d gotten red eye after canon-balling into the sewer waters during a game.  He’d woken the next day with his eye so crusted over that it was sealed shut.  “Does it hurt?”

Raphael shrugged, not even sure.  Everything hurt, but it wasn’t really localized at this point.  “I doubt you could see from it even it you tried…  We should rinse, yes? I think Blue keeps eyewash around here somewhere- and if he doesn’t, we can visit Purple's lab.  I think he built a special sink-“

“No,” Raph cut him off sharply, “it’s okay.  Leo will have some, I bet.  Maybe in the cupboard?”

The tremor and sharpness of his voice were too obvious to have missed- even by the elderly rat.  Not that Splinter ever did miss much, when he was putting effort into paying attention- and like a hot spotlight, that attention was focused squarely on the snapping turtle.  He slowly opened his eyelid.

Pops was staring at him.  The furrowed brow and faint frown.  It was a long, uncomfortable moment- only broken when Splinter clearly made a choice to let go his weirdness.  “Have you talked to your brothers since you first woke?  Properly?  What you all experienced is not something to be bottled up.  It will consume you.”

“No,” Raph admitted, quietly.  “I don’t know how to start.”

His father hummed, lowly in response.  “You know you are not to blame, yes?”

“Yeah, pops,” the snapping turtle tried to smile lightly.  “I know that.”

Shell, he was proud of what he had done.  Not getting infected, obviously.  That sucked.  But of the options available after Leo refused to leave the key… he wouldn’t have changed giving up his escape pod, and nothing after that had been in his control.

“Good,” the rat chuffed.  “Then what is the problem?”

Raphael shrugged, “There’s just… a lot in my head right now.”

“Meditation, then” Splinter smiled, pressing a small eyewash tool against his face, tipping his chin backward- his father's arms were so short, they were all of inches from nose to beak.  “We will sit in the dojo, unless you prefer to stay here.  But I generally find it hard to heal the mind surrounded by such machines.”

His father finished with his eye, grabbing a towel that Raphael hadn’t even noticed and dabbing at his cheek before placing a new gauze and bandage.  “Do you need help, up?”

“Nah, pops,” Raph carefully pushed himself off the bed and was pleased to see he hadn’t been lying- he was standing fine enough- his balance and some strength having been relieved from his two days of rest.  “I’m good.”

“You always seem to be,” his father agreed, absently.  “Be sure to stay that way, yeah?”

🐀 🐢 🐢 🐢 🐢

Movies, Casey Jones Junior decided, were weird.  Especially Lou Jitsou movies.  Sitting still for an hour and a half was weird.  The dialogue was stupid, the action scenes bizarre, and the jokes and wit not befitting the situations the characters found themselves in.  The situations were ridiculous, of course- though Leonardo and Mikey didn’t seem concerned with realism.

In the future, they didn’t have movies like this.  Or TV shows.  Or anything else, really.  Sensei blamed the internet, and how few pieces of physical media had been left behind after the apocalypse.  He would talk about how DVDs just didn’t hold up the way a good VHS could, but that they couldn’t find a VHS deck for it to even matter.  He had asked his brother to build them something to play old movies on, but Donatello had always just been too busy.  Not that they didn’t find a way to use the tech they did have.  There were screens that Master Donatello had plastered into just about every room- used for communication, and data relay.  Sometimes he would shout at one and he and the other humans would be treated to security feeds.  Which was sort of like a movie, he supposed.  The bad guys would flick from screen to screen, and the good guys would chase them- and if the bad guys got too far in, then they all got treated to a funeral of some kind the next day.

Fun.

Not.

The security feeds weren’t something he and most of the others really had access to- that was more of a guard duty thing, and generally spoke about as if it were very boring.  Instead, they had plays- and a little music, too.  The younger kids would do puppet shows for the adults whenever they had time for recreation, as rare as that was.  A lot of the older guys would talk about the instruments they used to have- about concerts they had gone to.  They tried to recreate it, of course- but Master Donatello had gotten mad about their homemade drum kits citing something about vibrations and being too obvious, and did they all want to die?

There was one older man that Casey could remember- Tom, or Tim- something like that.  He had a guitar, and Master Donatello didn’t seem to mind when he played acoustic.  He would play at dinner, and while most people enjoyed it a few would roll their eyes and spend the time talking about different styles they wished they could recreate.  Orchestra, heavy metal, pop.  Sensei had told him that back in the before there were so many types of music- something for everyone.  Michaelangelo had called it food for the soul.

Donatello called it a waste of time.  Not that Sensei ever let him get away with that- he’d bug his brother about something called electric synth and rap.  Sensei told him once that the softshell was a ‘sensory seeker’ where music was concerned, and would listen to the most awful crap imaginable. 

And suddenly back to the present- Mikeys' hand on his knee, stilling the movement of his legs that Casey hadn’t even realized he was making.  A never-ending tap, tap, tap- but Mikey didn’t even look at him, and didn’t comment.  Simply stilled the movement and left his warm hand on Caseys' leg in what he probably thought was a comforting way.  But Master Michaelangelo used to do the same thing and this kid wasn’t Master Michaelangelo- God, he was so close though.

The movie ended.  A thousand names, scrolled.

Weird to think how many people dedicated valuable time and energy into making some weird fake picture thing.  “You didn’t like it?”  Leo was staring at him, frowning a little.  “I really thought Hot Soup Forever would be a winner.”

“He would have liked it if you had gone with my suggestion,” Mikey leaned back into the chair with an indignant air, crossing his arms and doing his best to look morally superior.  “Bedtime for Bozos would have gone over great.”

“No,” Casey tried to backtrack on whatever facial expression he must have been making through the film, “It was great.  It was… something.  Great.”

“Tell me literally one thing that happened in the entire movie,” Leo shot back.

“…The title screen was very colorful?”

Mikey snorted.

They all three stared at the credit list, watching it slowly unfold and disappear without meaning.  “You’re on edge,” Leo wasn’t looking at him.  None of them were looking at each other.

“Aren’t you?”

“Trying not to be,” the slider's response was simple.  “Do you even know how to relax?  Or is that not something you do in the future.”

“We relaxed,” Casey replied, feeling as if he had to defend himself.  “It was just… different.  There was always something needing doing.  We scheduled downtime, usually.  This whole just being done for the day thing wasn’t really… you know, a thing.”

“Sounds unhealthy,” Mikey interjected.

“It was your idea,” Casey shot back.  “Before I was even born.  Something about people working themselves to death, otherwise.”

Mikey shrugged.  “Still sounds unhealthy,” he doubled down.

“Best of a bad situation, than,” Casey was… ugh.  Aggravated?  On edge.  Twitchy and ready for… anything.  Everything?  He had something that needed doing, after all- and he wasn’t doing it.  A situation that needed resolving.  His mother would have given him hell, acting like a scared child in the face of a conversation.  She’d always told him that the difference between a child and an adult was reaction time.

Sink full of dishes? Did you react? No? Childish.  Laundry basket full?  Did you react?  No?  Childish.  The tank needs to be fueled up?  Did you react?  No?  Childish.

Friend infected by the Krang, and needing to be put out of his misery before he could kill the last thousand people left on Earth?  Did you react?  No?

Cassandra Jones was one hell of a lady, and her voice was clear as day, even in death.  ‘Are you going to wait for somebody else to react?  Why would you trust somebody else to react to your problem?  They have enough of their own.’

Am I going to react?

He had seen what death in the family did to his Sensei, first hand.  Wasn’t looking forward to repeating the experience.  “You think Raphael will get up today?”

Leo shrugged, staring at the now blank TV screen.  “He snuck past, behind us like a half hour ago with Splinter.  Sounded like the dojo door.  There’s no way Dad would let him practice or exercise right now, so they’re probably meditating.  Don’t bother them unless you want to join- I really don’t need a lecture, tonight.”

Yeah, there was literally no way Leo hadn’t noticed his twitching leg.  This kid might not be the greatest ninja of all time, yet.  But he was something.  They all were.

Could he trust them to handle this?

Would he even live through the experience if he did it himself?  Leonardo would kill him, without question.  And that was if Michaelangelo didn’t do it first.  These weren’t the men who raised him.  These were brothers who protected each other against all odds.

Casey blinked once.  Twice.  “I didn’t even notice.  How did I not notice?  He’s huge.  There’s a light in the hall, he should have thrown it off when he passed…”

“Raph has ballerina feet when he wants them,” Mikey interjected.  “And dad is like, freaky good at ninjaing.  I know he doesn’t look it, but he could kick all our asses at the same time without busting a sweat.  You didn’t know Raph in the future?”

Casey rotated his shoulder uncomfortably.  “He died when I was a couple of years old.  I don’t really remember him.”

“…Oh.”

The room was cold.

He felt so isolated.

He missed… well, not the apocalypse, but the future as a whole had been his life.  He missed how nobody was uncomfortably about the weird shit, in the future.  He missed that nobody questioned his mood swings and twitchy limbs.  He missed the comfort and familiarity of people acting like actual people with anger and tears and whatever other messy emotions.

He missed his uncle and his Sensei.

Chapter Text

Settling into his work chair was bittersweet.

The purple hues of Donatello’s lab were calming in a way he’d never be able to explain to his brothers, and the smell of bleach that clung to his desk and the lab equipment was so unlike the rest of their perpetually messy lair.  But what was normally a fun moment- that getting back to work moment, was stained by the destruction he now had to repair.

The lair was trashed.  Resetting the Donnie Pods would have to come first, of course- the soft shell was quite certain he’d never go without them again; their brush with death was a whole level of scary that he was unlikely to get passed any time soon.  That gut sinking feeling, like a rock in his stomach, when the Krang limb was coming down with a chunk of concrete bigger than a car – only to get pulled away by his invention at the last possible moment.

Awful.

Awful, awful, awful.  Nausea inducing.

SHELLDON would come next.  Besides the fact that the AI was family at this point, he’d be a massive help during the reconstruction efforts in a way that he’d just never be able to ask his brothers to be.  He’d be able to help get their security systems back up and running whenever the fam forced him to break, upload backup systems, security alerts, basic setup and tool retrieval…

After that?  Where to even start.   While the backup electrical systems seemed fine- and the TV, too- thank god.  He’d hate to have his bored brothers up his ass for the next week had it been broken.  The main system was definitely busted beyond repair; he’d have to rebuild it from the ground up before a human maintenance worker came down looking for power seepage.  Lighting was spotty and tended to flicker, not that he minded the rooms being a little dimmer.  The piping was still fine, but the filtration was gone and their water tasted sour and all kinds of awful.  The air filters weren’t any better- he could smell the stench of the sewers even through several walls and doors.  Beyond the fact that it was gross, it certainly wasn’t healthy. 

Okay, so… Donnie Pods.  SHELLDON.  Electrical.  Water filters.  Air filters.  Lighting.  Probably the WIFI after that; their signal was down but it was of secondary importance.  Backup battle shells- as much as he loved his devices, they were always annoying to rebuild.  Too many delicate parts for his clunky, oversized fingers.

They’d have to go and get the turtle tank too- sure to be a miserable job.  The tank couldn’t possibly be driveable at this point; they’d have to drag it back piece by piece.  Leaving it wasn’t an option, the government was sure to be all over an alien invasion site faster than they’d like, and genius-built tech was built into every nook and cranny of thing.  For a short moment the softshell regretted putting his logo on nearly everything he built, but he let it go quickly.  Annoying for now or not, his ego would never let him sleep if he hadn’t.

It was too much.  Too many tasks and too short a time frame.  He needed… resources.  Okay, resources.   What were his resources right now?  Raphael, Donatello typed out his list absently; he’d have to help drag the tank back.  He might not be feeling up to it though… but they didn’t have a choice.  He’d have to be talked into it either way.  April might be willing to help too, though she’d be limited to smaller parts and it would take ages.  Realistically, April was a no-go on the turtle tank; she’d be better served getting resources from the surface.  Leo wasn’t going anywhere, anytime soon- even if he tried to play off his broken everything as if it weren’t a whole thing.  Mikey wouldn’t be lifting either. 

Casey, maybe?  Casey might be willing to help; not that he particularly wanted to ask future boy for anything.  His entire existence from here on out was bound to be… frustrating.  The kid had no home, no family, no money, no knowledge of their time, and probably zero in the way of mental health.  He was basically an illegal alien stuck on a new planet that bordered on hostile.  Mikey and Raph would probably insist he stayed with them.  Eugh.

How nerve-wracking would that be- a stranger, living in their home?  Dumping his baggage on them.  Judging them.  Expecting things of them.

It was one thing to have April over- they’d known her since they were all tots, and she knew their tweaky little shit and understood it.  Nobody ever had to explain to April why they did things or reacted to things a certain way.  Nobody ever had to defend themselves to her.  But even the thought of April staying long term was enough to put Donnie on edge; this strange teenage boy with a desperate daddy complex for his brother was a bridge too far.

And if he were staying- all the more work for him.  Great.

He’d need his own Donny Pod, of course.  And a subcutaneous tracker.  A shell phone.  He’d need a bedroom.  They’d have to get more blankets and pillows, and probably a desk for him.  More during grocery runs.  More consumables.  Would the boy be clean, like Raph- or more of a Mikey-tornado?  He’d need clothes- the ones he had were grimy and looked like he’d pulled them off a corpse at some point.

The freaky little time traveler probably had.  The hockey mask was a unique choice.

Splinter would have to take care of the living arrangements.  He’d talk to Dad in the morning, and see what the rat thought of it all.  But if Splinter was busy with Casey, that was one less person to help with the turtle tank.  Donatello sighed deeply, The next week is going to suck.  He’d be skipping meals, no doubt.  Two pots of coffee each morning, one in the evening- they didn’t have enough coffee set aside for that.  Three days worth, tops.  April would have to go for it. 

Leo would have to get some basic biometric readings from Casey so that he could set their security and…

His head hurt.

His arm hurt.

His shell fucking hurt.

Donatello breathed deeply, leaning back in his chair and taking a long swig of coffee.  The mechanical work alone would take weeks- and sure, he loved doing what he did but building back from the ground up wasn’t the same as exploratory science and new builds.  He wouldn’t even be able to spend the time upgrading and having fun with it; there was too much to do, it would all have to be the bare minimum and move on.  Come back for the fun stuff later.

There was never enough time for the fun stuff.

There were never enough resources for the fun stuff.  If the government descended, it would be weeks before they’d be able to make a repo run.

He couldn’t even play his normal music.  Beyond the fact that it felt wrong to play high-energy songs while he worked on his broken AI robot-come-son, any extra strain on the backup generators should be minimized.  He wouldn’t tell his brothers that, of course- there was some wiggle room, and they deserved to be able to rest stress-free.

Donatello felt a migraine coming on and reached into the desk to pull out a couple of pain relievers.

Take a deep breath.

You’re doing this to yourself.

Well, he could hardly not.  Overthinking was kind of his whole deal.  He shook the bottle- empty.  Fucking fuck.  Of course it was empty.  Of course the fam would have already raided his supplies for anything they could get their hands on- and he couldn’t even be properly mad about it because what was worse? A stupid, self-propelled migraine or his brothers' injuries?

Close your eyes.

Take a deep breath.

Take a moment.

Okay.  He could handle this.  While he wasn’t usually much of a break guy, the concept wasn’t lost on him.  Mind, he didn’t normally have to face a migraine without medication…

A deep breath.

A moment of silence, that he wasn’t normally able to achieve in the face of such frustration.

He could do this.

There really wasn’t a lot of option.  It was time to get to work.

🐀 🐢 🐢 🐢 🐢

Meditation had helped a little.

Not as much as Raph would have liked- but he had found his center again and had a small pool of mental energy to start the conversation.  A miserable conversation that sure as shell wouldn’t lead anywhere good. 

His brothers were in the living room, talking quietly.  The energy was… not great.  Sure, Raphs' fear stink might get a little overwhelming on occasion, but his brothers had stinks of their own and stress was absolutely flowing from the living room.  It clung to the walls themselves.

“Hey guys,” Raphael stood in the doorway, blocking the light and smiling when Leo looked up at him with easy love.  “How you doin’?”

Mikey bounced, from zero to one hundred, the box turtles grin was as pure as anything he’d ever come across.  The hug he got wasn’t as tight as usual- Mikey was probably still feeling the mystic burns- but the possibility of not living long enough to actually get another hug had been very real.  “Raph- man, you freaked us out!  Sorry, I had to drug you.”

He didn’t look sorry, Raph smiled, nearly laughing.  That was okay.  “Yeah… had a bad moment there.  I’m good for now, though.”

“Nightmare, hermano?” Leo stood, clapping his hand on Raph's shoulder and guiding him back to the couch where Casey sat looking still and uncomfortable.  “It looked like a doozy.”

“Something like that,” Raph sat, the crouch sagging under his weight with familiarity.  “We need to talk.”

The corners of Leo’s smile were snipped away at that moment.  The frustration in his eyes was all too obvious, and Raphael brought his hand up to his own eye injury in reflection to it.  “Not ready for that, man,” he answered honestly.  “Can we just not for a couple of days?”

“No,” Raph replied, sharper than he would have liked.  “We need to talk.  I need to talk.”

“You don’t think we’ve all gone through enough, man?  I’m telling you I need you to back off for now.”

“It’s about Donnie.”

Leo pulled back, surprised.  “Donnie is fine.  Donnie is the most fine out of all of us.  He’s back at it, even.”

“Maybe not totally fine,” Casey threw in from the side, two eyes snapping to him with uncomfortable energy.  “Leo-“

“Casey-“ his voice was sharp.  It reminded him of Sensei when he was pushed too far.  “Stop.”

Mikey took Caseys shoulder and pulled him back for a moment, not saying anything but giving Raph and Leo a chance to give their attention back to each other.  Casey felt, in that moment, like an intruder in their lives.  These weren’t the men who had raised him- they were brothers who had their own whole thing going on between them.  Leo took a long breath, before continuing.  “What’s wrong with Donnie?”

Raphael took a deep breath, before putting his head in his hands- suddenly so much smaller.  “You need to just listen, okay?  This is… I don’t really have the words and I don’t think I can afford not to find them.”

His brothers sat.  Casey nodded, encouraging him.  “When I was a Krang zombie, I was connected to the hive mind.  I don’t know how to explain it; it was weird.  I was there- I was me.  The Krang were all there too.  I could feel them. I could hear their thoughts, they could hear mine.  And I could feel what they felt.  And even though I was there, it was like… everyone together, all the Krang, and me, and the ship- we all had this whole other personality.  Like I was sharing my head with another person that was everyone combined at the same time.  And that… person,  Personality.  Whatever it was.  It was stronger than me.  That was who you were fighting.”

His brothers sat silently, and he took the cue to continue.

“The hive mind was… it was scary.  And it was a lot.  When we were fighting-”

“Hermano-“

“Donnie was there.  Donnie was there, and I need to know if I’m crazy.  Because if I’m not crazy, Donnie couldn’t have been there.  Not unless he was infected, too.”

The shoe was dropped, and Leos face was all screwed up and Raphael could feel that awful not able to breathe thing coming on again.  And then… it turned kind.  Understanding.  “Raph- it’s just a nightmare.  Donnie wasn’t infected.”

“Then how was he there, Leo?”

“He couldn’t have been.  We were with him the entire time- when we weren’t all together, Donnie was with Mikey.  There was never a chance, we would have known.  Donatello would have gone down kicking and screaming- we would have noticed.  Right, Mikey?”

Mikey looked… uncomfortable.   “Yeaaaah,” the word was drawn out, his teeth clenched together just enough to be noticeably bad.  “So, about that.”

All eyes snapping to the smallest turtle.  “Okay… so, you know how you told Donnie to go fly the spaceship?”

“Yeaaaah,” his drawl mimicked Mikeys, a twinge of something dangerous under the word.  “What about it?”

“Well,” he hummed for a moment, “It wasn’t like a regular… I mean, I dunno what a ‘regular’ spaceship would look like.  But it wasn’t… it wasn’t really what we were expecting.  The main console was kind of… alive.”

Open staring.  No blinking.  “So at first he was going to do his normal thing, you know, press some buttons and save the day.  Maybe some crazy Donnie laugh or whatever.  Except there were no buttons.  There wasn’t even a proper console.  So Donnie figured it out and he… Donnieinterfacedwithit.”

“…What?”

“He didn’t have a choice, we didn’t even really have time to think about it,” Mikeys words were running away with him, getting faster and more uncertain.  “The little Krang was there and trying to kill us.  Donnie tried to just, you know- touch it… but it didn’t work and he needed to do more.  He took off his battle shell and basically went in.   He was covered- but it wasn’t normal Krang meat, and he had the ship moving in seconds.  Guys, he wasn’t even connected for more than twenty seconds before he got yanked out, and he was totally in control the entire time.  I spoke to him, and he spoke back.  He took out the little Krang when it tried to get me- he wouldn’t have done that if he were a zombie.”

“Why didn’t you tell us?” the voices of Casey and Leo’s were strung together as if through experience.  “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“He was fine,” Mikey shot back, panicked, “He was fine.  We were fine.  It didn’t effect him.”

“He was in the hive mind,” Raph shot back.  “I felt him.  He was there, with the Krang.  He was infected-“

“We would know!”

“You don’t know that,” Casey threw his voice back into the building argument.  “You can’t know that!”

“I know my brother,” Mikey pointed in the direction of Donatello’s lab.  “He’s fine.  It’s fine.”

“You willing to risk all of humanity on that?”

The room went silent.

Numb.

Leo spun sharply on his heel, leaving the room in the direction of the lab.  The whispered ‘god dammit’ felt as if it had been spoken for every single person in the room.  The odachi now in his hand reflected their faces as Leo walked away.

Chapter Text

The door opened, and Donatello’s hands caught on the half-functional Donnie Pod; a simple job, but one that needed focus through his tension headache.  “Hey, brother,” Leo’s voice was smooth and absolutely grating on his grey matter.  “Lots to do, right?”

“Always,” Donatello didn’t bother to look up at his brother.  “So… you know… go away.”

“What if I had coffee in my hand?”  Donatello looked up then, hopeful.  There was no coffee in his hand.  Of course there wasn’t. 

“You owe me coffee,” he went back to his work, moving his goggles back down over his face in a clear but unspoken I’m not paying attention to you now, and it’s your own fault.  “Black.”

“Sorry bro, can’t do that.”  ugh.   “We need you in the med bay.”

He looked up at the slider again, this time judging his stance through the red and blue goggles.  Stressed.  Tight eyes.  Fake smile.  Deadly serious.  Raph and Mikey were behind him, peeking in from the doorway.  Huh.  When had he gotten up?  He looked… well, he looked like shit.  But alive and standing.  Good enough for the time being.  “What’s broken now,” his chair pushed backward, the Donnie pod was shoved forward absently, not forgotten but prioritized a little lower beneath getting rid of whatever had Leo on edge.  “I really do have a lot to do, Nardo.  It can’t wait?”

“Nope,” the word popped. Leo spun the odachi in his hand absently, always his twitchy self.  “Can’t wait.”

He stepped outside the lab.  Casey was there, too.  Everyone but Leo had taken a step back.  He stopped, one foot still in the lab, Leo behind him.  They were weird.

Why were they all weird?

Something isn’t right.

“Something isn’t… right?”

Something isn’t right.

“Maybe.  I dunno.  But if it’s not, we’re gonna fix it,” Leos' smooth voice from behind him.  A twinge of… something.  “Come to the med bay, brother.”

Okay now; that sure-as-shit didn’t sound right.  The tone was off.  The inflection was strange.  Leo was the face man- he didn’t make those kinds of mistakes, normally.

“What’s… going on?”

“…Raph,” Raph's voice came from down the hall, trying to be helpful “Raph broke one of the monitors.  The, um, the blood pressure monitor?  Can you come look at it?”

First of all, the blood pressure monitor was certainly not a stop everything to fix, sort of task.  Second, the blood pressure monitor had already been broken, during the snapping turtles panic attack the day before.  Raph might not have known that, but Leo and Mikey did.  A quick glance- Leo was holding the bridge of his nose in frustration and Mikeys' eyes were wide and jumping between Raphael and Donatello.  “Yeah… I don’t think so.”  he went to step back into the lab, stopping when his shell hit Leo’s way-too-close plastron.  A hand on either shoulder holding him in place and he felt- fuck, what the fuck was going on?

Casey went to grab his wrist- Mikey lightly slapped it away.  It was lucky he did, Donatello would have bit the thing off if Casey had touched him.

“I don’t know what this is,” he growled at the slider, grabbing at one of his hands and trying to shove it off his shoulder, “But I can very confidently say that I don’t like it.  Let go of me, Leo.”

“Sorry, Donnie,” and hell if Leo didn’t actually sound sorry as hell.  “We’re gonna need you in the med bay.  Don’t make this any harder than it has to be.”

“Sarcastic scoff,” his voice was rough and unsteady, “It’s like you don’t even know me.”

“…Do I?”

A sudden sharp pain- Mikey.  Mikey had come up behind them while he had focused on Leo.  Nunchku in hand and a blossoming headache- he went down.

Et tu, Brute?

And woke up in the medical bay a moment later- he was handcuffed to the hospital bed.

What.  The.  Hell.

They were all having some mumbly little conversation on the other side of the room.  Raph’s face was all pinched with worry, while Mikey twitched from foot to foot with nervous energy.  Leo… he didn’t look happy, and he still had his hand on the odachi.

Casey was leaning on the wall, silently listening to whatever they said.  His blank face pissed Donatello off; a confounding,  still unknown factor.  His hand shook as if the handcuff would randomly just decide to fall off- he could only be so lucky.  The rattling brought his attention to him.  “Sorry Donnie,” Mikey really did look sorry.  His eyes were all watery.  “I wouldn’t have, except…”

“-Except what?” Donatello's voice carried a frustrated growl  “What the hell, man?  What is this?”

“Look,” Leo- god damnit Leo, “Just… give us a minute, okay?  We have some questions you’re going to need to answer.  That’s it.  That’s all we’re doing right now.”

The words seemed to be directed as much at Casey as himself- future boy had a frown.  His arms were still crossed.  He oozed with uncomfortable energy.  Like a space heater, it wafted from him.  “You couldn’t have asked me questions without knocking me unconscious?”

He was so going to tell Splinter about this.  These little shits weren’t going to forget it any time soon.  And if Splinter didn’t make them pay up, properly, well it would hardly be his fault what came after.

“…That’s kind of what’s up for debate,” Leo replied, settling into a chair to the side of the bed- just far enough away that Donnie wouldn’t be able to reach him.  “I got some Tylenol here if you need it.  I really was hoping you’d just come with me, man…”

I could toss the bed itself at him if I really tried, he reasoned.  But I’d probably dislocate my shoulder, and I’d still be stuck to the bed.

…Better not.  Next option would have to be breaking his hand.  Probably overkill, and he wouldn’t be able to work properly for ages.  Not worth it.

“You’ve got two minutes,” he spat, “And then this cuff better be coming off.”

Leos face went all hard.  Stoic. It made Donatello uncomfortable.  “…When we were on the ship, I asked you to pilot it.  Towards the portal.”

The ship wasn’t it, thank you very much.  Rude.  Like a ship at sea, the technodrome was clearly a she.  “…Right.”

“And you did that.”

“Obviously.”

“…how?”

Unblinking eyes from the entire family- other than Mikey.  Mikey looked… ill.  Was this really their confusion?  This couldn’t have waited?  Not that he wouldn’t talk about the amazingness of being a space ship, given the opportunity, but why his brothers would consider this an immediate concern was beyond him.  But clearly, this was no joke- Mikey looked ready to barf.  Please, he mentally willed.  Don’t.

Deep breath.

It’s okay.

These are your brothers.

Brothers who knocked you out for some dum dum reason, but your brothers nonetheless.

Deep breath.

Calm.

“I interfaced with her,” Donnie swallowed his frustration, not sure where this was all going but ready to at least talk it out.  “And then I… I dunno… I thought about it really hard?”

Leo blinked.  Nearly laughed.  “…Whut?”

“It was a mental connection,” the soft shell clarified.  “So I had to think about what I wanted.  I did that, and we turned back to the portal.  Nardo,” he stopped, “What is this even about?”

“So… you interfaced with her,” Leo's voice was careful.  Measured.  “Mikey said it was a bit physical.  There were tentacles?”

“I mean, yeah, but the entire ship was tentacles so it made sense” he wanted to shiver- the memory of what it had looked like- what it had felt like on his arms… eugh.  But the shiver never came, as if it had stuck somewhere before materializing.  “It was… I mean, the tentacles weren’t wet.  Cold, I guess, for a minute- and then warm and kind of… everywhere?  It was everywhere, and-“ his voice cut off.  Choked.

Not an it.  She.

He hadn’t really thought about it, since.

Didn’t really want to.  The ship had been everywhere and in everything and then suddenly was nowhere and…

“So I interfaced with her,” he tried to finish.  “Thought about turning around as hard as I could, and we did that.  It really wasn’t all that complicated- there isn’t even a story to tell.  Why?”

“Do you remember anything else?”

“What is there to even remember?  I was kind of focused on the task at hand, Leo.” 

“When you were connected to the hive mind.  Do you remember that?”

A wall.

He felt like a wall had suddenly dropped between he and his brother, blocking his frazzled nerves and tightening lungs.  Stopping the mounting stress.

Deep breath.

One.  Two.  Three.

Deep breath.

“I was focused on the technodrome, Leo,” his voice carried an ease that was… unexpected.  Didn’t have his regular cadence.  Stress could do that to a turtle, though.  “That’s all I remember.  If I was connected to the hive mind, I don’t remember that.”

“Okay,” the slider let it go, thank god.  “So… the technodrome.  You were focused on it?”

“Her.”

“…Right.  So you were focused on her.  What was that like.”

“Like… time stood still,” his voice was whispy, light.  For a moment he wondered what he had even been worried about- what was even the problem.  It hardly mattered if he were in the lab, or the med bay, or anywhere.  None of it mattered, because none of it compared.  All too suddenly the ‘nothing to tell’ story was as eternally long as the universe itself, and he could do it no justice.  “Leo- I don’t even know how to explain him.  I felt like I saw his entire life in only a second.  All the experiences he had gone through- everything.  I saw memories he didn’t even know he had.  He helped me remember things I didn’t even realize were still in my head.  He was real, and so unique, and amazing.  He invaded me, and everything dull and boring about life was just gone and new.  He had wants and needs and he was just like me.  A living, breathing person who got caught up in something he didn’t understand, by accident.  And he’s a genius, Leo.  A planner.  He’s perfect.  So different from the Krang.”

A long, silent, confusing moment.  “…I thought it was a her.”

“Yeah.  The technodrome is a her,” he responded, confused.  His mind reeled for a moment before settling back down into something that felt less like a head injury.  Fuckin nunchukes.  “Why?”

“You switched to he.”

“… I…“ he felt frozen.  Confused.  Donatello shook his head, focusing and grounding himself.  “I dunno; I don’t think I did?” he settled on the confusion and pushed past it, uncomfortably.  “Nardo, you need to let me go.  I gotta’ get back to work.  Seriously, there’s so much to do.”

Leo shook his head sadly, starting to usher Casey and his other brothers back out of the room .  “Sorry, hermano- but you’re staying here for now.  We’re gonna do a huddle, m’kay?”

His wrist hurt.

Little shits.

What.  The.  Fuuuucccccckkkkk.

Chapter Text

“Okay, so… that was weird, right?”  Raphael had a head on his temple, trying to figure out what had even just happened.  “Raph’s not the crazy one here?  That was weird, even for Donnie?”

“That was weird,” Casey agreed, nodding through his own confusion, leaning on the far wall.  “That wasn’t… it wasn’t what I was expecting.”

“What were you expecting?” Leo asked, leaking on his odachi.

“Honestly… for him to snap and try to kill us.”  The words were blunt, but his face was more emotive then they had gotten used to over the last couple days.  “I don’t think you understand- I’ve seen literally hundreds of people go zombie.  And I’ve never seen that.”

“What even was that?”

“…Like… joy?  I don’t think Krang even know how to feel joy in that way.  Honestly, if I were guessing, I’d say that wasn’t a Krang.”

The room was quiet.  “But it wasn’t Donnie, either.”

“No.  Not entirely.”

The room felt cold.  Leo could hear Donnie screaming his usual fairly evil promises from the med bay at him.  Something to the effect of ‘get back here or else.’  “Okay… so the ship did something to him.  Obviously.  It’s not just him in there.  But it’s not Krang.  And connecting to the ship is what did it to him, right?”

“Right,” Raph continued the thought.  “And it connected him to the hive mind- but he doesn’t remember that.  And he would have, for real.  Raph won’t ever forget it.” He shivered.  “What if… what if he weren’t though.”

“You’re the one who was telling us he was.”

“He was connected to the ship.  The ship was connected to the hive mind.  …Would that have been enough for me to feel him?”

Three brothers, staring at a suddenly very uncomfortable Casey Jones.  “…I… I dunno?”

“You don’t know anything about the ship, future boy?” Leo’s voice had a sarcastic edge.  “Like, at all?”

Casey shrugged one shoulder, looking away from the brothers.  “I know what Master Donatello knew, but it wasn’t like that was a lot.  Nobody ever went in, this is a first for me.  And frankly, I think he would have taken out anyone who wanted to try.  Sensei wanted to send recon groups there on the rare occasion- but Master Donatello always told him it was too dangerous and wasn’t likely to impact anyway.  Everything we had was from people who had been saved from being a zombie, and they were usually too traumatized to be much help.  I know that it’s both mechanical and biological.  The atmosphere is only breathable to a certain point and then you’d get sick if you stayed on board.  It’s slow and mainly relies on portals to go long distances.  I know that it doesn’t need a Krang to pilot it- it can do just fine on its own.”

“So… like an artificial intelligence?” Mikey pointed out, “Like SHELLDON?”

Another shrug.  “That was one theory.  I really don’t know, though.”

“M’kay,” so Leo hummed, “So, recapping.  We’re all pretty positive that was the least Krang-like interaction we’ve seen in the last week, and that it’s the least Krang-like interaction Casey had in his entire life.  Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“So he’s probably not a Krang zombie.  Donnie has something in his head but it’s emotive and we might be able to reason with it.  Crazy Krang is with the government, Angry Krang is stuck in dimension X, and Mini-Mute Krang is dead.  The spaceship is destroyed.  Immediate concerns of Krang invasion, off the table?”

“…I dunno Leo,” Raphs voice was cautious.  “That’s a pretty big risk to take.”

Leo simply shrugged, moving on.  “Our brother is tied to a bed, Raphela, and I don’t know about you guys but he really didn’t seem like he knew what was going on.  I’m not saying that we should throw an ‘everything-is-perfect’ party… but I think we need to shake the world-is-ending vibe.  He needs us.  And maybe the voice in his head wouldn’t mind as helping hand leaving if we offered.  We’re running blind on it.”

“We know it’s a she,” Mikey interjected.  “And I don’t know what you guys caught from her little speech, but I think she’s got a thing for Donnie.”

Leo’s face screwed up a little at the thought.  Donnie was great, sure, but… he was an acquired taste, to put it lightly.  “I take it back,” the slider joked, “She does sound insane after all.”

A couple of nervous giggles that quickly dissipated.  “Donnie is freaking out in there man, I think we gotta go back,” He gave Leonardo a long, though careful, smile.  “I’m not sure about all this… but Raph likes any plan that’s based on taking care of the fam.  I’m trusting you to take the lead on this one, man.”

Leonardo flashed him a grin.  “Mikey?  Casey?”

Mikey nodded, smiling.  “I’m in- we can get that thing out of his head, I know it.”

The three turned to Casey.  Future boy looked particularly unenthused.  “…You know,” he was nearly whispering, “I grew up calling him Uncle Tello?  He ran… he ran everything.  Everything we had, we had because of him.  Water, food, shelter, protection.  Sensei and Master Michaelangelo would go out and do what needed to be done, but there was always somewhere to go back to because of Master Donatello.  And every single person on base knew that.  And even though he acted like he knew that they knew it, sometimes I don’t think he really believed it.”

Casey took a deep breath.  “I don’t know what the future holds now, but I guess… I can’t imagine doing it without him there.  And whole.  So if you think we can get this thing out of his head, I’m all for it.”

Leo spun with a smile, turning back to the medbay and all but bouncing in to see a very very angry Donatello.

“Hermanito,” the word was smooth, far more relaxed, “I’ve got good news!  And bad news.  You get to choose which one we start with.”

“Don’t you hermanito me,” Donnie spat back, rattling his handcuffed hand once again,  “Let me GO- Tell me what’s happening!”

“Trying, very trying,” the slider grinned.  “But you’re going to have to calm down.  At least a little.”

“I’m being held against my will.  You all knocked me unconscious.  You’re all being weird and freaky and I still don’t understand what’s going on.”

“Breathe, Donnie.”

Breathe.

He slumped against the bed, a headache blossoming around his eyes and tugging at… everything?  Whatever.  “So, like I said, good news.  Bad news.  Dealers choice.”

Donatello growled at him.  Rude.

“Okay, so, bad news first-“ Leo clapped his hands together in front of him as if it were a fun game, slid a chair to the bedside and got comfortable.  “You’ve gone insane and you don’t seem to realize it.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“When you were piloting the ship, Raphela felt you in the hive mind.  You, unfortunately, don’t seem to remember this.  Following me?”  Donatello looked incredibly pissed off now- but quiet.  “We think you were infected while you were interfaced with it.”

For a moment Donnie considered arguing against the entire premis, but he was too mad to go into a detailed list of how wrong and stupid his dum dum brother was- and the headache was just screeching for attention at this point.  “Her.” 

Breathe.

It’s okay.  Leo is trying to open up right now, in his own weird way.  It’s okay.  He’s reaching out.

“And again with this weirdness.  So now, when we tried to talk about it, you got weirdly defensive and seem to want to give it a personality.  Originally we were concerned that you might have been like, a Krang sleeper agent or whatever because apparently sometimes they would do that.  And when we were talking to you before, it kind of sounded a lot like it was a whole other person talking through you in a weird, obsessed-with-Donnie way.”

He stopped, took a breath.  “So…  good news.  We’ve all agreed that even if you are infected- your little friend doesn’t seem to be Krang.  It’s something else that seems significantly less hostile for the time being.  We don’t think it’s Krang after all.”

“Okay… so,” Donatello concluded.  “I’m tied to a bed because you thought I was a Krang sleeper agent.”

“Right.”

“And now you’ve changed your mind partially.”

“Yes.”

“But I’m still chained to the bed.”

“You’re infected by something, we just don’t know what yet.  Or how much control it has.  How much control it might get later.”

Donatello sighed deeply, wishing he could just go back to his lab.  “What do you need for me to convince you that I’m fine?  Exactly?”

“Easy,” Leonardos' voice smiled, sarcastically.  “Explain how even though you couldn’t possibly by crazy- Raph would have to be.  Then start on why would would randomly start talking in the third person.  As if you were talking about having just met you.”

They stared at each other for a long moment, and Donatello's eyes flickered back over to his brothers.  It was all ridiculous, of course.  There really wasn’t much else to it.  The others were being weird and crazy and fuck his head hurt and hey, maybe he had a head injury?  That would make sense, right?  Not that a head injury was any more appealing but…  What exactly was he even supposed to say at this point?  There really wasn’t anything that would convince the dum dum. 

The room stank and it was getting to him.

He had a headache.

“Okay, how about this,” Donatello tried a new route, “I’m crazy.  Fine.  Whatever.  How about I tell you my problems, and then you can tell me what you think we should do about it.”

Leo's face pinched together, not liking that his plan was going off, already.  This whole leader thing kinda sucked.  “m’kay.  You have the floor.”

“The air filtration system is down.  That’s a bigger deal than it sounds like.  We live in the sewers, Nardo- there’s a whole lot of diseased air down here.  The New York sewer system is built to manage gas exchange in general, but that’s before a bunch of mutant turtles moved in and started blocking off whatever pipes struck their fancy.  And normally that’s fine too because I do what I do so well.  The best-case scenario right now is that we’re just accumulating the basics- nitrogen and carbon dioxide, which is probably where my headache is coming from- if it's not the head injury, thank you very much.  But the real concern is either methane or hydrogen sulfide, which are both significant explosive risks.”

“-Don.”

“Let’s talk about how the water filtration is also down, next.  Want to guess what’s in new York sewage water?  Don’t bother, because I can list them off.  Gastroenteritis.  Campylobacteriosis.  Encephalitis.  Cryptosporidiosis.  Escherichia Coli.  Giardiasis.  Hep A.  Salmonellosis.  Polio.  Typhoid Fever.  And that’s just the beginning.  We’ve been drinking the water for two days already which means we’ve probably cleared out what was already in the pipes having gotten through the filters before everything went down.”

“Donnie.”

“I know you guys don’t really understand what I’m doing half the time- I’m not even judging right now.  But I’m trying to tell you that if you don’t let me get back to work now, we won’t have water.  We won’t have air down here.  If the toaster sparks unexpectedly, we could all be blown up and it would be the most dum dum death imaginable seeing as you’re not letting me get back to it.”

Caseys' voice came from the far corner of the room- “I can try working on the air and water?” He didn’t sound particularly confident.  “I helped him in the future sometimes; our bases had the same problems cause we were usually underground.  He could watch and help through the security systems?”

“The WIFI is down,” Donatello shot back, “And loathe as I am to admit it, I probably replied on it more than I should have.  You’re going to have to let me go.”

“…Raph could monitor them?  Stand guard?”

“Sarcastic laugh,” Donnie responded.  “As if there weren’t other things I needed you doing?  The turtle tank is still out there and the government will be ripping it apart any moment now.  I was going to ask you to try and pull back whatever you could before they started hacking the shell out of it.  Not being blown up is great, but living just long enough to end up as a lab rat isn’t the goal either.  You’re going to have to let me go.  Preferably before we suffocate.”

Nobody said anything.

“Okay,” Donnie muttered, “You guys are taking the whole potentially infected thing pretty seriously.  Thanks, I guess.  I’ll take the wanting-Donnie-to-live thing as a compliment.    But we’re going to have to come to some sort of decision here because the lair needs immediate repair work, the surface is too well monitored, and even you admitted that if I am infected, it doesn’t sound like a Krang, right?”

Leo frowned, deeply.  Looked back at his brothers again, and came to a decision.  “Fine,” he pulled a small key out of his pouch.  “Okay.  Fine.  I’ll let you go for now.  But you’re not going to be left alone for even a second, and if I think this thing is hurting you I’ll pull you back here kicking and screaming if I have to.”  His eyes tightened, squinting threateningly.  “I’ll rip it out of your head with my own hands.”

Donnie massaged his stinging wrist, with a frown. 

“Deal.”

His brain halted.

His throat choked shut.

Because it might have been his voice, but he didn’t say that.

Breathe.