Chapter Text
The view of the New York skyline at sunset is, by far, Mikey’s favorite. Even now, with the toppled skyscrapers and smoke choked sky, the view is still breathtaking. He flies as high as he dares, Case draped over his shell and looking over his shoulder at the barest golden rays of the hidden sunset breaking through the clouds and glinting on the fallen remains of the city.
“Head’s up Angelo, we’ve got the Technodrome in our sights.” Leo calls up from the still miraculously intact roof of a downtown pizzeria. Ah, pizza, he misses it so.
“You hear that Barry?” Donnie drawls, his field visor lit up with symbols and code that made Mikey’s head hurt just looking at it.
A crackling sigh is heard over the long range communicator as Mikey touches down on the roof beside Raph, and lets Case down from his turtle-back ride.
“Yes. If the ship is still traveling Northeast, it should be within range in the next few minutes.” Barry replies curtly. “Now if you wouldn’t mind, I’d appreciate radio silence while I prepare. I’ll notify you when I release the swarm.”
Leo rolls his eyes at the now silent communicator.
“Same old Draxy.” He says as he turns back to towards the enormous fleshy sphere in the distance.
Mikey smiles to himself but doesn’t comment on how fond Leo had sounded. Leo and Barry’s relationship had its ups and downs, sure; but they’d found a certain balance in fondly insulting each other. It works for them, so Mikey let them be.
“Raph’s still not too sure about this plan. Will the swarm even know to target the Kraang? The oozsquito’s just mutated whoever or whatever was convenient, didn’t they?”
Donnie hums, standing up and leaning against his tech bō.
“While your worry is warranted, the vast majority will be directed towards the Technodrome and only a spare few may distribute themselves around New York. Also, an important aside, Draxum has assured us that these won’t be oozsquitos. The bugs themselves are just the vector for the specialized fungicide Barry made up. It might make people slightly sick if they get stung, but it shouldn’t be lethal or otherwise harmful.”
“And we’ve never tried using this stuff on the Kraang before?” Case asks, now climbing up Raph’s arm to perch on his shoulder. Mikey couldn’t help but notice that Case and Raph have become much more comfortable around each other the past month or so. He’s not even going to mention that Case calls him ‘Uncle Raph’ now. Nope.
“Well, with how pink and fleshy they looked, the world just assumed that that’s what they were made of.” Leo turns, joining the conversation. “In the beginning, the people of the world tried everything they could think of. Even after the fall of the world’s governments, we still threw everything we had at those fuckers, but nothing ever seemed to truly hurt them apart from mystic energy and our ninpo.”
“We’ve taken samples of Kraang slime and flesh before, but without knowing how to properly preserve it, let alone have the right equipment on hand to analyze it, it always degraded long before we could run tests on what might hurt the Kraang the most.” Donnie adds.
“…Until you got the data from the Kraang towers?” Case asks.
Donnie smiles wide, sharp teeth on full display.
“Until I got the data from the Kraang towers, yes. The Kraang keep a backup of their DNA profiles in their cloning logs. Turns out that they’re a mutated mix of sentient fungi. From the Armillaria and Cordyceps families, specifically.”
“Which is why you had Barry make a fungicide.” Mikey says, eyeing the Technodrome in the distance. It was steadily getting closer.
“Correct, and the mosquitos he used to carry the mutagen are both small enough to not trigger the Technodrome’s defenses, and sturdy enough to withstand the altitude and get inside the Technodrome itself. With any luck, they’ll do enough damage to the Kraang’s cloning hub that they won’t be able to make any more.”
“Relying on a lot of luck here.” Raph grumbles, absently activating his ninpō to catch Case as the kid slides down Raph’s arm to stand beside Donnie and Leo, who promptly ruffles the kid’s hair to make him laugh.
Donnie sighs, rubbing at his eyes under his visor and leaning so heavily on his bō that Mikey’s worried he’ll fall.
“Nothing much we can do about that, I’m afraid. With the Kraang’s hive-mind still active through the Technodrome we don’t want to risk testing the fungicide and have it work, only for the Kraang to then retaliate or, worse, develop a resistance to it. With the Technodrome so close, Draxum agreed that our best bet at really hurting the bastards is to throw everything we’ve got directly at the source.”
“The Technodrome is now within range.” Barry’s crackling voice on the communicator snaps their attention back to the oppressively large Kraang ship, drifting across the darkened New York skyline in the distance. “Releasing the swarm now.”
From beneath the Technodrome, Mikey watches the massive shimmering cloud rise up. There must be millions of the little mystic mosquitos, the entire swarm glinting electric blue. As they all watch, the swarm slowly disperses upwards until they can’t see the bugs at all.
For a long minute, nothing happens. Mikey floats up to try to get a better look, Raph shifting in anticipation. Leo lays a steadying hand on Case’s shoulder and Donnie stands stock still, watching. Waiting.
Without warning, the fleshy tendrils dangling off of the Technodrome recoil and then the night lights up with lurid pink and blue. There’s a distant shrieking noise as the Technodrome itself stutters in its flight path, flares of light pinpricking its surface.
Mikey can’t help his delighted grin.
Leo releases a startled laugh, and that’s what breaks them. Suddenly they’re all cheering, shouting out into the night and uncaring of who might hear, for the once untouchable Kraang ship is curling in on itself and shrieking in the distance.
Giddy relief curls warmly through Mikey’s plastron as he hugs Donnie tight, Raph laughing his staticky laugh as he curls around them, too. Leo and Case are shouting and cheering into the communicator, gleefully recounting everything they’re seeing to the alchemist.
Mikey can feel the fond eye roll Barry is giving them through the com and it makes Mikey laugh even harder. Barry gives them a final warning to watch out for any straggling mosquitos that none of them listen to, before sighing off and leaving them to ‘their nonsense.’ Good ol’ Barry.
They stay to watch through the night as the Technodrome hiccups and twists unnaturally through the air, retreating to the farthest reaches of the skyline until it disappears from sight. Just as the horizon begins to lighten, they make their merry way back to the base.
They split up at the entrance; Raph and Leo to go out on patrol, Donnie, Case and Mikey himself to go to bed.
None of them notice the single bead of toxic green following them inside.
⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘
Artificial light pricks at Casey’s still stubbornly closed eyes and he groans in annoyance, feeling the sound reverberating oddly in his chest.
Casey makes to sit up only to hiss as his entire body revolts against the action with a deep and painful ache.
He breathes through it, keeping as still as possible until the pain fades. But he still feels… off. Groggy. Stiff. Heavy.
He keeps his eyes shut tight and slowly, carefully, eases himself off his cot and over to the wall of his room. Tracing his hand along the wall, he stumbles painfully over to the metal door of his room.
He still feels so weird. Maybe he’s sick? That’s not good. He needs to-
He opens his eyes.
And he screams.
He stumbles back, away from the stranger’s reflection on the back of his scuffed up bedroom door. He trips over unfamiliar feet, landing hard on a shell. He reaches out, sees a green, three fingered hand and screams louder.
He chokes on surprise and panic as his door slams open and silhouetted in his doorframe stands Uncle Tello. Despite being in purple sweats and without his battleshell, and the deep bags under his uncle’s eyes, his Uncle stands tense and ready and his eyes are narrowed dangerously as he sweeps the room for threats.
When he finds none, Uncle Tello finally looks down at Casey, and his jaw drops in shock.
“…Casey Junior?”
Casey is far to overwhelmed to give a coherent answer and barely manages a strangled sort of croak.
Casey is vaguely aware that he’s shaking, breaths coming short and wheezy through an unfamiliar jaw and snout. Uncle Tello kneels next to him and puts a hand on his shoulder, the gentle pressure the only thing keeping him from descending into full blown panic.
“Easy Junior, just breathe.” Uncle Tello coaches softly, pulling Casey closer while running a critical eye over Casey’s unfamiliar form. “You’re alright kid, we’ll sort this out. We always do.”
And that, more than anything else, calms Casey down. Uncle Tello always knows what to do. Casey pulls in a deep shuddering breath, and lets it out slowly.
“Believe it or not, this wasn’t me.” Uncle Tello huffs, gently pulling Casey to his feet before leading him back over to his bed. “It looks like Draxum had a few of his old oozsquitos mixed in with the fungicide swarm. Why am I not surprised...” He trails off as he circles Casey, looking him over with gentle pokes and prods.
Casey opens his mouth and tries to ask ‘what the fuck Uncle Tello,’ but all that comes out is a throaty chirp of indignance.
Casey claps his hands over his mouth in surprise, quickly morphing into embarrassment as Uncle Tello pauses in his examination to stare at him with wide eyes.
“That was adorable, holy shit.” Uncle Tello deadpans, making Casey snort despite himself. “Moving on, would you mind taking your shirt off? I’m trying to see what species of turtle you’ve been mutated into, but I’m seeing some inconsistencies in some of your features and I just want to make sure.”
Casey agrees, curious. As he’s pulling his sleep shirt off, he notices golden stripes on his arms… like Sensei’s.
The marks trail the length of his arms, broken and split over the scars trailing up his hands and wrists, left behind after he’d finally gotten the cast and bandages off after his Kraangification.
“Alright, it looks like you have the coloring of a slider, even the ‘red ears’, like Leo… my condolences. But your shell is structured like a box turtle’s, like Mikey. Yep, see, there’s the hinge in your shell.” Uncle Tello hums, hands coming up to examine Casey’s face.
“Your beak and snout is shaped more like a snapper’s though, like Raph. Open up.”
Casey opens his mouth, too bewildered by what Uncle Tello’s telling him to refuse.
“Ah, but your teeth. Oh, and your claws, too, look.” Uncle Tello, holds up Casey’s hand and compares it to his own, side by side. “Yep. That’s all softshell, like me.” Uncle Tello grins, showing off his own sharp teeth.
“Looks like you got something from all of us, kiddo. You even got to keep your hair.”
Casey doesn’t reply. He… doesn’t know how to feel about all this. He stares at the hands in his lap, green skinned and three fingered, willing them to clench into fists and is quietly surprised that they actually do what he wants.
He feels… detached. Like he’s not really there, sitting on his bed in a body that feels too cold and too heavy and too stiff, but also… warm. A content and slightly giddy feeling rising in his chest because now-
Now he’s like his Uncles.
Like real family.
He’s abruptly smacked in the face with something soft and he’s so shocked that he involuntarily chirps in surprise.
Uncle Tello snorts in amusement from his doorway, as Casey looks down at the deep purple hoodie that had fallen into his lap. Definitely his Uncle’s then, but, wait… when did he leave?
“Back with me, Junior?” Uncle Tello asks as he sits beside him on the bed. “You spaced out for a minute there. Understandable, considering… Anyway, I grabbed some essentials for you that may make you feel better. The hoodie may be a bit big on you but it’ll keep you warm. And I also grabbed these!”
Uncle Tello proudly holds out… a marker and handheld mirror?
When Casey merely looks at the items blankly, Uncle Tello smirks.
“You may still have your hair, Junior, but eyebrows are a luxury that turtles do not have. Since you haven’t found your voice yet, I figure that this will be something familiar that’ll help you express yourself a little easier. Now c’mere, I’ll help you.”
Before he knows it, Casey is blinking at his reflection in the little handheld mirror.
And he looks… well…
His hair is indeed the same, shoulder length, shiny black and still mussed from sleep. The drawn on eyebrows are impressively close to what he remembers, but it was Uncle Tello who drew them for him so he’s not surprised.
The scars from his Kraangification still decorate the right side of his face.
His eyes, too, are the same shape and color.
But that’s where the similarities end.
His skin was now green, just a shade darker than Sensei’s, and beside his eyes are bright red ‘ears’ replacing his human ones. They aren’t crescent shaped though, like Sensei’s; they’re larger, swooping up into his hairline and curving down over his cheekbones. He tilts his head back and forth, examining his broadened jaw and extended snout where his nose used to be.
“Eh? Not too bad, right? Don’t worry, I’ll call up Draxum today and have him come over to fix you up. In the meantime, here, put on my old hoodie. You might feel a bit chilly now that you’re part reptile-”
“WHA- DONNIE! CASE!?”
Casey and Uncle Tello startle and snap over to face the doorway where Uncle Mike stands, hair ruffled and eyes wide.
“Don, what did you do!”
“What?! It wasn’t me, I swear!”
“For some odd reason, I don’t’ believe you!”
Uncle Tello gasps in offense and Casey muffles a laugh.
“Oh jeez, Case, look at you! Did you touch anything in Donnie’s lab? Did he give you anything to eat that tasted weird? Did-”
Casey interrupts Uncle Mike trying to say ‘No! He would never!’ but instead only chirps in refusal. He slaps a hand over his mouth again, heat invading his cheeks as Uncle Mike’s face brightens.
“I resent the fact that you think I would do this to Junior without his permission.” Uncle Tello grumbles off to the side as Uncle Mike tugs Casey into a hug.
“Ah! Oh Case! Oh my god!” Uncle Mike breaks off into delighted laughter, making Casey blush deeper, hiding his face in Uncle Mike’s plastron. “No, no! It’s okay! Talking works a bit differently for us than it does for humans. You’ll figure it out, don’t worry.”
Casey refuses to try and acknowledge that verbally, drawing his shoulders up and feeling his neck sink oddly. With a jolt he realizes that he’s trying to pull his head into his shell and abruptly snaps his head back up with a surprised squeak.
“Aw! Don’t worry bud, this must be really weird for you, huh? We’re all here to help, right Donnie?”
“Hey! Of course I’ll help Junior adjust, for however long it takes to fix this. Besides, this is Draxum’s fault, not mine! He specifically told me that he didn’t have any oozsquitos left, let alone release them with the swarm! I’ll need my gear to get in touch with him-”
Uncle Tello is cut off by the loud grumbling of Casey’s stomach, which makes him want to sink into his shell again in embarrassment, his cheeks warming once more.
Uncle Mike chuckles and hugs him closer, “Why don’t we go to the Mess and get something to eat, huh? Then we can work this all out.”
“An excellent idea, Michael. Raph and Leo should be back from patrol soon, too.”
Uncle Mike chuckles as he walks Casey out of his room with an arm slung over Casey’s shell, the pressure feels odd, but it’s grounding. Uncle Tello follows them out, offering the purple hoodie to Casey once more, and Casey takes it with a grateful nod and finally pulls it on, Uncle Mike guiding him through the base’s halls while his head is covered.
“Hey Mike, hey Don. You headed to breakfa-”
Casey finally pops his head through the neckline of the hoodie, only to find Sensei and Uncle Raph standing frozen in the hall leading towards the southern surface entrance. They must have just come back from patrol.
They all stand there, staring in shock at each other, before Sensei moves to stand right in front of Casey.
Casey refuses to hide or look away, craning his neck to keep looking up at his Sensei as he looks down at Casey with an unreadable expression.
Sensei abruptly picks Casey up to hold him at eye level, and then turns back to Uncle Raph, squishing his face right next to Casey’s.
“Oh my god Raph, look at him!” Sensei says gleefully, effectively breaking the tension and sending Uncle Mike into delighted peals of laughter. Casey smiles with a rush of relief, warmth rising once more in his chest at his family’s easy acceptance of his unexpected mutation.
Uncle Raph’s shoulders creak with the force of his sigh.
“The sun has not yet risen and Donnie has already gone off the rails.” He says, fondly exasperated, which immediately makes Uncle Tello gasp, scandalized.
“Why do you assume this is my fault! I had nothing to do with this!”
“CJ is a turtle, Don. People don’t just spontaneously mutate into turtles.” Uncle Raph puts a comforting hand on Casey’s shell as he passes to continue bickering with Uncle Tello, completely ignoring how Sensei is still gushing about Casey’s new turtle-y features, Uncle Mike smiling while hanging over Sensei’s shoulder.
“-stripes, and your red ‘ears’! Look at your little turtle hands and turtle nose! Ah! It’s too much, I can’t take it!”
“There, there, Leo.” Uncle Mike pats Sensei on the shoulder while Casey blushes at the attention, feeling a little pleased that Sensei is so happy, but quickly getting overwhelmed.
“Ah, but Casey, you’re being so quiet! How are you feeling? Are you okay?” Sensei asks, still smiling.
It’s instinctual. When Sensei speaks, Casey answers. That instinct had not diminished now that he was a turtle, despite him not having the capability to form actual words to respond.
The affirmative chirp chirp that escapes him ceases all conversation in the hall, and has Casey once again slamming his hands over his mouth. Embarrassment crashes over him as Sensei bursts into surprised laughter.
“What was that!”
“Case hasn’t quiet found his voice yet; he’s just been able to make turtle noises so far.” Uncle Mike explains with a grin.
Sensei laughs harder, and Casey’s embarrassment plummets into mortification. His face is hot and flustered, his breathing coming quick and sharp. He’s horrified to feel his eyes start to prick with tears, his neck sinking oddly again as his shoulders hunch. He hears more people coming down the hall towards them, talking loudly, and it’s the final straw.
Self-conscious and overwhelmed, he bolts. He hears his Uncles calling after him but he ignores them and just keeps running.
By the time he’s found a little used cave near the Memorial Wing of the base, he’s panting harshly and his muscles ache painfully, reminding him once again that his body and its limits are unfamiliar. He curls up against the wall and buries his face in his knees, fighting back tears.
The novelty of looking like his Uncles has well and truly worn off, leaving him feeling awkward and upset. Because he doesn’t just look like a mutant turtle. He is one. It was truly sinking in now.
And yeah, yesterday he might have jumped at the chance to become a mutant like his family; but to go to sleep in a body that he was familiar with, that he had trained and felt comfortable and confident in, only to wake up in a body that was completely unfamiliar with instincts that warred inside his own head…
“Casey?” Sensei’s voice is soft as it approaches.
Casey merely tightens his arms around his knees, turning his face away.
He can hear Sensei walk closer, and settle down beside him. A deliberate action, as he knows Sensei had mastered the art of moving silently long before he’d taught Casey the same techniques.
“I brought you some food, since we interrupted you on your way to the Mess.” Sensei says quietly, the sound of a plate being set down loud in the silence that Casey does nothing to fill.
“Listen, kiddo, I’m sorry. I got overexcited and didn’t think… There’s no good excuse for how I overwhelmed you like that when all of this is probably really weird and upsetting for you.”
Casey sniffs, raising his head off his knees a bit, but still refuses to look at Sensei. That is, until Sensei sighs… and chirps.
Casey whips his head around at the deep, throaty sound. Sensei smiles apologetically at him, before he chirps again.
Casey blinks as he processes the undertone of remorse singing in the back of his mind. Sensei chirps again, this time in request.
Asking Casey to join in.
Casey hesitates, remembering the laughter, and the feeling of no control.
But… Sensei had apologized, and was now trying to help him.
Casey chirps back softly, in question.
Sensei answers by chirping at a lower pitch, tone coaxing Casey to copy him. And so he does.
Casey chirps back and forth with Sensei, pitch getting lower and lower until they’re practically growling at each other before-
“rrrrrrrpoh. Oh! Hey!” Casey says, baffled and so utterly relieved.
“There you go! Feels a bit different, doesn’t it?” Sensei says, passing him the full plate he’d brought.
“Yeah… Um. I’m sor-“
“You have nothing to apologize for, Casey.” Sensei cuts him off gently. “I was out of line for laughing at something you had no control over. I mean, it took me and the guys forever to start talking back in the day.”
“…Really?”
“Oh yeah. It was two, maybe three years after we were mutated. Dad thought we were just really fucked up looking turtles before Tello took insult and taught himself how to speak with actual words.” Sensei chuckles warmly, as he shifts closer to Casey, gently pulling him into his side with an arm slung over his shell.
“And don’t get me started on how much we freaked out when Mikey kept disappearing into his shell!”
“Uncle Tello says my shell is like Uncle Mike’s.” Casey confides, smiling at Sensei’s look of surprise.
“Yeah?”
“Mhmm. He said I have a slider’s coloring, a boxshell’s shell, a snapper’s jaw, and a softshell’s teeth and claws. See?” Casey holds out his hand and bares his teeth.
“Huh.” Sensei says, before a slow and easy smile lights up his face. “Got the best of all of us, huh? You are something special, Casey Jones.”
Casey huffs a laugh and leans into Sensei’s side, feeling just a little bit better about… this whole situation.
Uncle Tello was quick to get in touch with Master Draxum, but it was going to take a while for him to travel to the New York Resistance base from the Hidden City base with all the supplies he needed to make a retro-mutagen.
The days that pass as Casey waits for Master Draxum to arrive are… not bad.
Weird, but not bad.
It could have been worse, all things considered; suddenly finding yourself changed from a human to a mutant turtle in the middle of an apocalyptic war would surely have been devastating to anyone who didn’t have access to four Uncles who’d been mutant turtles their entire lives.
Uncle Mike quickly took over showing him the fun things that come with being a mutant turtle. Increased strength, stamina and durability, to name a few things, but Casey’s favorite thing was when Uncle Mike bestowed upon him the wonder of the sun.
…
“C’mon Case, you’ll love this! Trust me!”
Uncle Mike tugs eagerly on Casey’s arm, sliding open the metal double doors before them before dragging them into the warm and humid interior.
“It’s not that I don’t trust you Uncle Mike, but… I’ve seen the greenhouses before.”
Quite a few times actually. Greenhouse One wasn’t his favorite, but it was still nice, the rows and rows of stacked planters lined with lights and misters all meticulously timed to keep the vegetables and fruits and whatever else they could keep alive, healthy and as abundant as possible in an underground cave system. Casey preferred the lines of trees in Greenhouse Three, lying between the young trees and trying to imagine the huge ancient forests that once grew on the surface that Uncle Tello had told him about.
He huffs a bit through his snout as the smell of moist soil nearly overwhelms his newly heightened senses.
“Pffft! Have you really, though? Let me show you…” Uncle Mike leads Casey to a back corner of the room, the ground padded and the ceiling lined with enormous bulbs that were currently dark and cold.
“The sun corner? I’ve seen the sun corner, too.” Casey deadpans.
He’s pretty sure half of the resistance knows about the sun corner; a little piece of comfort for the reptile and reptile adjacent members of the base. He’s seen Uncle Mike and Sensei and even Uncle Tello on occasion making use of the sun corner.
He sighs through his nose, annoyed but trying not to show it. He doesn’t mean to be so down and irritable but he’s achy and sore still from the mutation and he hasn’t been able to stop shivering, even with Uncle Tello’s super soft hoodie.
“Oh I know, but now you’ll be able to really experience the sun corner!” Uncle Mike smiles and maneuvers Casey onto the mats under the large lightbulbs. “Aaaand voila!”
Uncle Mike flips the switch on and Casey just… melts.
The heat from the sun lamp seeps under his skin and scales and deep into the marrow of his bones. A low grumble of pleasure rumbles in his chest as he sinks down to stretch out across the padded floor. He isn’t shivering anymore.
“Yeah, nice right?” Uncle Mike asks, sitting down beside Casey with a knowing grin.
Casey hums affirmatively.
“I totally get it now. Thanks Uncle Mike.” He says sincerely.
Uncle Mike chuckles.
“Don’t mention it, kiddo.”
Sensei found them there, hours later; both sleeping comfortably with Casey draped over Uncle Mike’s shell, basking in the artificial sunlight.
…
Of course, some of the mutation’s side effects caused Casey more trouble than others.
The greatest bane of his existence was both his enhanced strength and the now strange shape of his teeth and jaw. He feels like he’s bent and snapped and bitten through more cutlery in the span of a few days than in the entire time the resistance base has existed.
Thankfully, Uncle Raph was there to help.
…
Casey growls angrily, clenching his fist around the seventh fork he’s ruined in the last twelve hours. He resists slamming his fist on the table in his frustration, since the last time he’d given in to the temptation he’d dented the metal so badly that they’d needed to replace it.
He blows a harsh breath out through his snout, teeth clicking audibly as he snaps his jaw shut.
This is too much. If he can’t even hold a fork without bending it or take a bite of food without biting clean through the metal, then how was he supposed to be trusted to train and fight safely? He had no control over his body and its limits, and who knows how long it’ll take for him to gain that control.
Will Master Draxum change him back before he has to? Or will he have to get used to having a human body again after working to get used to a mutant turtle’s?
“CJ?”
Casey jumps with a startled hiss, which he cuts off as soon as he realizes he’s doing it.
“Uncle Raph?” Casey clears his throat awkwardly, shoving his irritation and embarrassment down. “What- um- what’s up?”
Uncle Raph blinks at him, tactfully not mentioning the hissing or the awkward greeting, for which Casey is absurdly grateful.
“Just checking up on ya, since Mikey and Don are both on missions and Leo is actually asleep for once.”
Uncle Raph pauses and the light of his eyes flickers over the broken pieces of cutlery littered around Casey’s plate and the ruthlessly bent and broken fork still held in his hand. Casey ducks his head low in embarrassment, shoulders rising to meet his neck; but he still has enough awareness to beat the instinct to retreat into his shell back with a mental stick.
“Ah.” Uncle Raph says as he eases his bulky metal body onto the bench beside Casey. “I think I know what’s goin on.”
“…Really?”
Uncle Raph’s jaw creaks as he shifts it into an knowing grin.
“Tell me, how many forks have you bitten in half?”
Casey startles, head whipping up to stare.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” Uncle Raph chuckles. “Pops had the toughest time trying to feed me growing up, and it wasn’t just spoons and forks I bit in half. You ever hear the story of how I bit through a table leg when I had a tantrum?”
“What? Really?” Casey couldn’t help but laugh.
“Oh yeah, I was a menace as a tot! We all were. But it didn’t stop there! Even as a teenager I had moments when all I could think to do was ‘chomp!’”
“Moments like what?”
“Oh, there was this one time the bros and I were in the Mystic Library, trying to find a spell to help free April’s pet, Mayhem. But the library had these things called hush-bats that swooped down and dragged you off if you were too loud. Well, Mikey an’ Donnie an’ Leo had all been dragged off and I was Mayhem’s only hope, but April called me unexpectedly and I couldn’t turn the sound off fast enough, so in my panic I just…”
Uncle Raph mimics slamming something in his hand into his mouth with a great big bite, and Casey laughs outright.
“Don was sooo mad at me when he found out.” Uncle Raph rumbled a staticky laugh, a hand coming to rest on Casey’s shell. “And I know you might be frustrated with your snapper jaw now, but just know that it’s okay to mess up. I was a mutant turtle my whole life and still couldn’t help but bite through stuff sometimes.”
Casey stops and looks up at Uncle Raph, who looks back at him with nothing but fond understanding. The tension and frustration drains away, and Casey nods silently in thanks, leaning into Uncle Raph’s side as he picks up another fork to try again.
…
Uncle Tello was, as always, practical.
And practical help meant keeping him safe in case of emergencies… Even if some of the proposed emergencies seemed pretty far-fetched.
…
“Uncle Tello, I really don’t think-”
“Nonsense Junior; a random portal opening and sucking you into an alternate dimension where you meet an alternate version of yourself is completely plausible. But what if the portal opens up over their ocean and their world hasn’t been ravaged by Kraang? You need to know how long you have to figure out how to swim before you run out of air. Now, I’ll start the timer and we’ll see how long you can hold your breath.”
Casey sighs, fondly if a little exasperated. Alternate dimensions and portals he can maybe see being real, but the ocean? Full of actual water, but so salted it’s undrinkable? So deep you can’t even see the bottom, let alone swim for an hour and not see any land? Full of creatures even scarier and unknown than the Kraang themselves?
He has doubts.
“Alright, take a deep breath, and three, two, one, hold!”
Casey clamps his mouth closed and holds his breath, listening to the little mechanical tick, tick, ticking of Uncle Tello’s timer, waiting for the moment his lungs start to burn from lack of oxygen.
But… it never happens.
After the first minute, Casey is bewildered, but after five he’s downright stunned. He isn’t feeling any strain at all.
After ten whole minutes of not breathing, he turns wide eyes on Uncle Tello who’s alternating between watching him and watching the timer in his hand.
“Ah, don’t worry, turtles can hold their breaths for a while, mutated turtles even more so. But since you seem to be a mix of species I wanted to test your limit. Mikey, being a non-aquatic species can only hold his breath for maybe ten to fifteen minutes. I, however, can hold my breath the longest at about two hours. Leo and Raph fall in-between that range, so we’ll have to see where you end up.”
Casey carefully doesn’t exhale all his air in shock. Two hours? Holy fuck!
Thankfully for Casey’s attention span, he only lasts another thirty minutes, bringing his grand total breath holding time to forty minutes.
“Alright, you fell almost exactly in-between Nardo and Raph’s limits, thirty minutes and one hour, respectively. Respectable, and a good cushion of time for you to figure out how to swim if you ever find yourself in a large enough body of water to drown in.”
“I’ve never even seen enough water to take a bath in, let alone enough to drown in.”
“Well, technically, you could drown in a bath.”
“What?”
“Never mind. The fact that you haven’t seen that much water before is truly a shame. I, personally, always liked rainstorms the best.”
“Rainstorms? You mean when water falls from the sky?” Casey asks incredulously.
Uncle Tello hums sadly, “Yep. I hope you get to experience rain someday. I think you’d like it.”
“Really?”
“Yeah… but not until we kill every last Kraang for stopping the rain in the first place, the bastards!”
As Uncle Tello rants and raves about how awful the Kraang are, all while inputting the results of Casey’s breath holding test, Casey wonders.
And Casey hopes.
He hopes that Uncle Tello will get to see it rain again someday.
…
After the first few days, though, it was Sensei who had pushed for him to try sparring with again to help him regain some sense of coordination and control.
It worked better than Casey was willing to admit.
Sensei had him sparring and weapons training almost every day in the week or so that it took Master Draxum to travel to the base; encouraging him every time he stumbled, praising him every time he corrected a stance to account for his altered center of gravity.
It helped boost Casey’s confidence enough that when the rest of the Resistance found out about his impromptu mutation, he didn’t mind the attention he got for it so much.
…He just wishes Sensei would stop taking so many pictures.
Master Draxum is supposed to arrive any minute now, and Uncle Raph and Uncle Mike are waiting for him near the base’s sub-entrance, used primarily for travel to and from the Hidden City base. Casey waits in the base Commons, glaring at the numerous pictures of him now taking up much of the bottom left corner of the picture wall.
Although… the one of him sparring with Sensei in full gear, with his mask perched on his head and a sharp grin on his face isn’t bad.
“Jones!”
Casey startles at the shout, whirling to the doorway only to find-
“Ugh. Miwa.” Casey rolls his eyes at the girl’s too wide grin at having snuck up on him, and turns to the other new arrival. “Hey Shini.”
“Hey Casey!” Shini greets with a smile, tail swishing behind her. “What are you doing in here?”
“Waiting for Master Draxum to arrive. My Uncles are waiting for him near the sub-entrance.”
“Who the fuck is Draxum?”
Casey fights the urge to roll his eyes again.
“Master Draxum is the leader of the Hidden City base. He’s also the one who accidentally turned me into… well this.” He gestures to himself in all his mutated turtle glory.
“Whoa, really?” Miwa asks, suddenly much more interested. “What’s he doin’ here, then?”
“He’s going to change me back into a human. Uncle Tello says he shouldn’t have much trouble doing it since-”
“Wait,” Miwa interrupts, “You want to be turned back into a human?”
The genuine surprise in Miwa’s tone had made Casey pause.
He glances at Shini only to see her looking just as confused, but not at what Miwa had asked, at Casey himself.
Casey went to retort that ‘of course he did!’ But… stopped.
Does he? Does he?
Sure, being suddenly mutated had been rough… at first. And sure, he missed having ten fingers and external ears to hold his hair back and not having to be so careful about holding back his strength and… well. He did miss being human.
But… he was steadily gaining back his proficiency in the dojo, and he’d only bitten through one fork yesterday. He was really getting a handle on being a mutant turtle. And… he liked being like his Uncles.
It was like being a real family.
Does he really want to give up this- this connection? This bond?
Turning back to the picture wall, he sees himself. Green skinned with his red and gold marks standing out starkly on his face and arms. In each and every photo, he’s with at least one of his Uncles, whether they’re standing or running or sitting or sparring.
In each and every one, they’re smiling.
Does he want to turn back into a human?
Casey doesn’t know.
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Draxum grumbles to himself as he moves swiftly and surely through the makeshift alchemy lab within the New York base. He’s not so much mad at the turtles themselves, just mad at being kept out of the loop.
Raphael being found, robot housed soul or no, was something he should have been informed of. Not to mention Michelangelo’s miraculous return to youth, despite his severe overuse of his Mystics.
Donatello truly was a genius.
He supposes he can quietly take some pride in providing his creation with such a brilliant mind, but he doesn’t dare voice such pride aloud. He knows how the purple turtle would react.
Violently.
Such as the dressing down he’d received by both Leonardo and Donatello when he’d arrived.
But really, how was he supposed to know that one of the last few oozesquitos he’d slipped into the fungicide swarm would find its way into the base to mutate their ward? He’d only wanted to see if the ooze would negatively affect the Kraang, or if it would simply mutate their already unstable DNA into something detrimental to the alien species.
Jones’ mutation however, is a thing of beauty.
A complete and stable fusion of the four turtle species he’d originally chosen for his elite mutant warriors. And to have it come from a human base subject? Incredible. Ingenious.
He never would have thought such a thing would beget such a strong mutant, but here the proof sits… quietly subdued on the lab bench.
Draxum tilts his head at the boy, noticing the slump of his shoulders, the frown pulling at his beak despite him munching away at the Alchemorta Rosa flowers that he’d brought to help the boy grow strong and healthy… and immune to almost every mystic poison or infection in existence.
And thank goodness the turtles never found out about his subtle act of protection through those flowers. They may actually have killed him for giving the flowers to the littler Jones in the first place. They still might, if they ever learn the truth. But their precious little human survived the initial inoculation and is now functionally immune to everything, so there.
The present, not so little anymore, Jones sighs in a distinctly unhappy manner as he sets aside the now empty jar of flowers.
Draxum allows himself a sigh as well, an internal one, that is. He did so despise the teenage years.
“Something wrong, child? I would have thought you’d be excited to return to your lesser human form.”
Jones’ shoulders hitch, and he pushes his hair away from his face with a hand.
“Yeah, well… being a turtle is weird, sure. Talking is different, walking and fighting are hard to get used to. I’m always cold and I miss having ten fingers and actual eyebrows… but… I like being… part of their… something…”
Oh. Oh, how tempted he is to let the child remain as he is; a strong and capable mutant with attributes from each of his own creations.
However, the child doesn’t want to stay a mutant because of the obvious benefits of his new form, he wants to remain a mutant despite them.
For his family.
Draxum hums, pouring the final ingredient into a flask, before placing the glass down in the center of the prepared alchemy circle, a sharp flash of light momentarily filling the lab.
“Are you not already a part of… their something?” He supposes that’s a good enough name for whatever their uncle/sensei/guardian situation is. “Mutant or not, you belong with them, and they will want you to be whatever you wish to be.”
The child’s drawn on brows, (…really Donatello?), furrow as he thinks hard on the important decision now lying before him.
“You know,” Draxum says setting the finished retro-mutagen on the bench beside Jones, watching as the boy’s eyes lock onto the bubbly orange substance. “There is… another option.”
“…Really?” Jones asks, hope carefully guarded.
“Yes. If you truly need some form of physical confirmation that you belong, there is a spell that I can craft for you.”
“A spell? What would it do?”
“Hmm. It’s similar in nature to the cloaking broaches that were once coveted in the Hidden City; which were often passed down as heirlooms due to how rare and expensive they were. This spell however, is much more delicate to perform and much more permanent in nature.”
Draxum levels a steady look at the boy to make sure he’s paying absolute attention.
“This spell would grant you true transformation into your human form. This would be more than just surface level glamour, it would transform you physically and mentally back into your original human body. However, you would need to revert back to your base mutant form frequently so as not to risk decaying the spell, which could be extremely dangerous to you.”
Draxum pauses to let Jones absorb the information, before continuing.
“The spell itself would have to be, essentially, branded into your skin.”
Jones looks up sharply at that, to which Draxum only nods.
“It’s a large part why this spell was not overly popular. The other part being that it is an incredibly finicky and tricky spell to cast in the first place, and it can be dangerous to both the spell’s subject and caster if done wrong.”
“…But you can do it?” Jones asks softly.
“Yes. I freely offer this spell to you, if that is what you want. You can also choose to simply stay as you are, or take the retro-mutagen and return to your human form. It is up to you to decide.”
Jones looks back down at the still bubbling retro-mutagen beside him, and then down at his hands, clenched tight in his lap. After a few moments of deep thought, the child picks his head up and looks at Draxum, eyes full of conviction.
A decision is made.
Draxum leads the boy back towards the base Commons, a guiding hand on his shoulder. As they near the open doors, they hear the lilting voices of all four of the turtles within, raised and speaking over each other, tones light and laughing.
As soon as they step through the doorway, the blue one descends.
“Casey! There you are!” Leonardo scoops the boy into his arms, both flesh and metal, spinning him around before pulling back and giving the boy a once-over.
He nods at the boy’s completely human form.
“Looks like you traded your ‘red ears’ for your human ones, huh? Feel good to be back to the old you?”
“Yeah, I hadn’t realized how much I missed having ten fingers!”
“Ha! I’ll bet! So,” Leonardo stops and turns to Draxum, Michelangelo coming to stand at his side and Raphael at his back, Donatello, curiously, stays seated on the Commons couch, “Anything we need to look out for, Barry? Side-effects of the de-mutation or any lingering instincts that might crop up?”
“No, your child is once again completely human. You’re welcome.” Draxum pulls his cloak higher up on his shoulders, tucking it under the pauldrons he’d fashioned after Huginn and Munnin, turning to leave.
“I’ll be taking my leave now that this whole situation has been resolved. It was good to see you all again. If you would be so kind as to actually contact me when events of significance take place, I would be grateful.”
Draxum braces for impact right before Michelangelo lands on him and grips him in a tight hug. He pats the turtles head in fond annoyance.
“See ya Barry! Thanks for coming to help Case get back to his old self!”
“Yeah, even if it was your fault he was mutated in the first place!” Leonardo chimes in from near the back, Raphael shaking his head exasperatedly.
“No need for thanks, I’m glad I could be of service.” Draxum looks back over his shoulder as he reaches the door, catching Jones’ eyes as the blue one exaggeratedly asks if the child can still chirp like a turtle, earning him a smack from the child in question.
As Draxum turns and makes his way back towards the base’s sub-entrance, he smirks.
⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘
_Log 24_
-The date is June 2nd 2041.
First off, while the idea of using a fungal pesticide against the Kraang was well-founded and a presumed success… we can’t know for sure how much damage the Kraang took from our attack.
We can, however, infer.
The Technodrome has been reported over what used to be the Indian Ocean, near the coast of Australia; as far from New York as they can possibly get. Not only that, but Kraang infection rates are at an all-time low across the globe.
I’d call this experiment a success.
The method of delivery, however, could have used more work.
Baron Draxum managed to slip a few of his old oozsquitos into the fungicide swarm, and thus inadvertently caused the surprise mutation of Casey Junior. (See attached photos and video files, the kid was unfairly adorable as a mutant turtle.)
Fortunately, for both Junior and Draxum, he was able to make it to the base to reverse the mutation and return Junior to his human form. …Or so he told us.
I get the feeling we weren’t told the whole truth about Junior’s de-mutation, but Junior is happy and healthy and so I’m leaving it alone for now.
In other news, April will be coming back to the base next month with more recruits from the Boston Resistance base! With the Kraang drawing back from New York so completely, newly trained recruits pouring in, I may just get a few days off sometime soon.
Ha! That’ll be the day.
…I’ve actually found it hard to relax lately. Sleep has escaped me more thoroughly than usual, but it’s probably just stress about all these breakthroughs against the Kraang.
Speaking of stress, Mikey’s hair has begun to fall out again, thanks to some back-to back missions we took to de-Kraang some of the major trade routes in and out of New York, so I’ve got to make up another batch of anti-Granpa serum for him.
I can’t wait to see the look on April’s face when she realizes she can braid Mikey’s hair again.-
_pinned file/video compilation/Casey Junior’s adventures as a mutant turtle_
_pinned file/photo compilation/Casey Junior’s adventures as a mutant turtle_
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