Chapter Text
05/18/2022 - 04:27
Donatello had to swallow past the endless waves of nausea from the sickening warmth of blood oozing through his fingers and down his side. Some distant part of him had hoped with the amount of blood he had dealt with that his sensory issues would get over it by now, but of course he would never be so lucky.
The familiar, yet alien, sounds of a living New York City buzzed in his skull in swarms. Crimson smeared against a railing as he barely caught himself on a fire escape, stumbling through a dark alley. It wasn’t long before any remaining strength began to sap from his muscles, his legs beginning to buckle under him from utter exhaustion. Shit. He was losing too much blood.
Tello was sure he had lost them somewhere in the city, the fuckers . But, it wouldn't be long before they would find him again with how he was slowed down, and leaving a bloody trail. The K-9s would follow the scent, hunting him down like an animal in no time. This was bad. It was certainly one of the less glamorous places to die.
Staggering as far as his wounded body would carry him, the scientist finally relented to the bone-deep ache that called his name in that sweetly lachrymose tenor. As he became unceremoniously acquainted with the concrete, a hand remained firmly at his marred side, letting his head fall back against the wall behind him. He had missed his chance to make it to Japan tonight, and now he was stuck here with them hot on his tail.
That all too familiar sense of defeat began to envelope itself around his mind. Looks like that's it for this cycle. Tello chastised himself for the time wasted, Maybe I should just get it over with. He figured there was no sense in waiting around to either bleed out or get mauled. He was so tired.
He didn't know how long he sat there, only occasionally illuminated by lights of the city life reaching into the depths of his resting place. It could have been minutes or days—he felt he wouldn’t know the difference anymore. After a while, his own shallow breaths filtering through a dark mask that fully concealed his face became the only sound he could register. Even the bustling city that usually overwhelmed him faded into obscurity of his perception, like a forgotten dream. He waited for the smell of sakura blossoms, vanilla, and oranges.
“Hey, are you okay?”
Tello’s eyes shot open faster than he could sit upright, making him wince. He didn’t know whether to blame his fading senses or the other’s apparent stealth for not being aware of the presence sooner. After the groan from the sudden start, a sharp, segmented breath faltered into his lungs as he willed his gaze to focus.
Then—That voice. Surely he had misheard it, a delusion from stepping into the threshold of death's door as if they were old friends.
A phantom spear pierced right through him when it was confirmed his senses weren't deceiving him. Standing in front of him was a shade of blue he had so desperately hoped to see again, but never in this circumstance. Red and yellow stripes crossed his gaze, and he knew his heart was still beating because he felt it sink into his stomach.
Leonardo . But not his Leo, this timeline’s Leo. Still so small, a teenager, a child. The one who had apparently saved this world he had been trapped in by the looks of things. The one he swore he would never walk into the life of no matter what.
Tello knew between his hood, his mask, his equipment, and overall size difference to the current timeline’s young Hamato’s, there was no way Leo would recognize him at first glance. Maybe he could still salvage this. Maybe he could get the teenager to leave before he put anything together. Or before he— Time travel bullshit was the last thing this family needed more of, they carried enough burdens no matter the timeline. He didn’t want to break things more than he presumably had already.
The air in his lungs became harder to pass through him, panic sitting heavy beneath his plastron. Fuck. Fuck! The General didn’t lift his head, hoping to remain as inconspicuous as possible. He cursed every faint wheeze that came in tandem with each breath he vainly tried to take as he spoke, “Probably…best if you scram, kid. Trust me…it’ll be easier for the both of us.”
Leo kept his sword in one hand, eyes not leaving the figure of the mutant in front of him. “I’m not really fond of doing things the easy way. It’s alright, I can fix you up.” The boy risked a quick glance back at the opening of the alley before making a show of putting his sword on his back and raising his hands in an open gesture of peace. “My name’s Leo, and you’re gonna die if you don’t get that checked out.”
Leonardo is many things, and can be very stupid at times, but in spite of what his brothers would tell you he is rarely dumb. The overwhelming stench of copper and saliva wafted through the alley. Tello was painfully aware he was all things ungraceful as he clutched a wound that wept from between his fingers and the struggle to breathe told of an obvious fight. Leo would surely know a hunted man when he saw one.
It was dark, the fire escape blocking out the closest street lamp, and the only light source was the dimly-lit band around the wrist currently clutching the wound Leo was seemingly itching to inspect. Leo placed his hand in the pouch that rested at his hip and opened it, angling it up to show its contents to the other. “Look, I’m a medic, see? I can patch you up and get you somewhere safe. There’s something after you, right?”
Leo was right, always the observant one, always the medic—Tello was going to die and he was being followed. The concern in Leo’s voice over the matter made him repress and swallow a laugh, the sound dying with another wheeze. He had almost forgotten that normally one was supposed to actually be afraid of dying, of being hunted like a dog. The only thing he feared anymore was the unknown of what truly came after.
The way Leo spoke slowly and clearly like he would to a cornered animal, hissing and spitting while defending its injury wasn’t lost on him either.
Every instinct in Tello’s body screamed to make this younger version of his brother leave. The very fibers of his being wept for more fight or flight where there was none left. Nothing good could come of this. More timeline branching? More rifts to close? More suffering? Traumatize the kid more, why don’t you?
But, as he lay slumped against a grimey wall in a dark alley behind a Brooklyn laundromat, struggling for every breath that dragged into his burning lungs, he found that he couldn’t tell Leonardo ‘No,’ . Some things truly never change. He would blame it on the way his fading mind toed the edges of threatening to slip in and out of cognisance, clouding his judgement with its rapidly thickening fog—and it definitely wasn’t because he couldn’t find the strength to tell him to go now that he was here. So close, within reach. Now that he was hearing that voice again, so different from how he had come to remember it. Still full of innocence and hope. He didn’t want to be alone, not really.
Tello said nothing, because what could he say? Where should he even begin? Should he wait, or say something now? Clusters of words made their rounds in his mind, but none could come to bear in the overwhelming midst of it all.
The General knew he must appear as some mysterious, shady yokai to the other who was none the wiser. Leo was stupid, but he was never dumb. He would piece the truth together fast. The right moment would reveal itself very soon, Tello was sure.
He opted to wait, perhaps not his brightest idea, but he didn't have a better one. First, he needed to collect more data and analyze, to feel this entire situation out—if he lived long enough to, that is.
There was a long pause of unmoving— save for the shallow rise and fall of his chest and sunken shoulders— then the hand that shielded the wound like a feral animal slowly receded, slithering back across his front and falling beside him. After all, Leo had always been the only one allowed to address his wounds besides himself. The taller straightened himself up a little to allow Leo to do his work. Involuntary sounds of pain escaped him as he winced, filtering through the mask with a slight digital distortion.
Breaching the surface of a sea of thoughts that drowned him was one that stood above the rest; he would never forgive himself for this, but prayed to his brothers that maybe they could.
Leo sighed in what sounded like relief. There were a pair of disposable gloves in his pouch, modified for three fingers that Tello vaguely remembered creating. Leo slipped them on, quickly dropping to his knees and pulled a pair of shears from his pouch. “Sorry about your shirt,” he mumbled as he made quick work of cutting cloth to expose the wound. “Just bill me for it. It’s not designer by any chance, is it? Dad cut my allowance so I’m a little light on cash.” Leo spoke just to fill the air, or perhaps to ease the tension—or because he just liked hearing himself talk, Tello was certain that much had hardly changed.
Bloodied cloth tossed aside, Leo trained his eyes on what the dim lighting allowed. The wound was several smaller gaping punctures in a formation that resembled a bite. At the lower jaw, a larger chunk had been torn open, ripped by something jagged and hooked. Thin strands of saliva lined the entire area, seeping in as much as it could with the steady flow of blood expelling itself and anything else out.
There was little Leo could do but grab what antiseptic he carried on him and begin dabbing the wound to clean it. “Sorry,” he apologized preemptively. “Feel free to punch me if it hurts too bad. Get me on the left, though. My right side is the good side.” Leo discarded the soiled wipe and got back to work with a fresh one, the bleeding unrelenting. “Or just sit there like a statue. I’m cool either way.”
The General masterfully stifled pained grunts that tried to escape him every time Leo made contact with the wound. If Tello had been strong enough to care, he didn’t know if he would find the constant cracking of jokes funny, or nothing more than a painful reminder of what once was. He was spared for the time being, all of the unimportant things Leo said mostly gone with the breeze that flitted through the alley. The only thing he was truly hearing was that young, strangely comforting tenor. The realization that he had fully forgotten what it had sounded like when it wasn’t jaded by the weight of the world settled restlessly in his chest. He still didn’t say a word.
“H’okay, how’s it looking, chief?” Leo sat back and inspected the newly-cleaned wound. It wasn't good by any means, but there was only so much he could do in a rank alleyway with a tiny medical kit. He looked uneasy, now bloodied gloved fingers tapping in a dissonant rhythm against his thighs as he looked both ways down the alley again. He was nervous, visibly sharing Tello’s sentiment of not feeling great about sitting in one place for too long. Leo knew they were vulnerable like this.
“Tell ya what;” the medic continued, “we’re gonna take a quick field trip to that rooftop behind me, yeah? You don’t even have to do anything, check this out.” He then ducked under the injured one’s side and wrapped an arm around him.
The machinist’s stomach was fluttering into his throat when he found he was suddenly moving through a portal directly beneath them, spitting them out on the roof of whatever municipal building sat above the alleyway. Tello steady in Leo’s grasp, the teen closed both portals and maneuvered him to sit against the railing that prevented them from dropping right off. A groan worked its way through his mask as he was readjusted that time. Somewhere in the back of that racing mind, he was thankful for how concise and transparent Leo clearly made every effort to be.
Tello’s right hand that was constantly illuminated by a dim purple and orange glow moved nearly of its own volition to grip at the large bite on his opposite side again—old habits of working alone would die hard. He would have to remind himself help was already in the works, and retract it back once more. He was trying to behave and not scare the kid by making him think he was going to grab him.
The slider didn't seem phased. “Neat party trick, huh? Look, I’m gonna have to wrap this up for the time being, but I can’t do much else from here. Can you understand me?”
Craning his head up, Leo made an attempt to look at the other’s face for the first time. Instead, he was met with the stark image of a mask fully covering the larger’s face. Almost no skin was visible anywhere on his body, save for the hole now cut through his top. Protective gear concealed him in a dark shroud, all clothing speaking of armor and repulsion to elements.
Leo fished a gauze pad from his belt pouch and pressed it against the still-weeping wound, staunching the outflow. “If you can understand me, I want you to take your mask off. I can help if you need. I just need to check you over. How’s that sound?”
Tello was pretty sure he finally stopped breathing. It sounded equally terrifying and comforting with how cautious, but caring, it was said. He kept his head lulled to one side for several more beats, trying to find the ability to process a response. He wasn’t coming up with one, but he supposed it was now or never. He knew he didn’t have much time. He was so tired.
Not one for patience after so long without a response, Leo wiped his bloody glove off on his leg, keeping the other pressed down to staunch the bleeding, and reached out to remove the hood and mask himself.
Tello was quicker. “Well…” he rasped, reaching the cuffed hand up and pressed his trembling, crimson soaked fingers to a button at the base of his jaw. Within seconds, sections of the mask pulled apart from each other starting at the center of his face, receding back into his tattered hood where it fully vanished from view. A breeze helped him push back his hood at the same time, ensuring the subdued cityscape lights would illuminate his face just enough to make it clear for Leo to truly see. Please forgive me.
What did he have to lose? As he lifted his chin slowly, heavy, dark lids gave way to heterochromatic eyes that blearily settled on the teen in front of him—one blue, one brown, the perfect mirror to the leader in blue’s. His expression lay leaden and bleak, only brightened by the blood that had dribbled down his chin and smeared his jaw slightly, “... you tell me.”
And Leo froze.
The beat of the bombshell passed, and Leo shook it from his head, the boy staggering back to create some distance between himself and the accused.
Leo’s attentive hand that had been holding pressure abruptly leaving Tello’s wound meant allowing the sharp air to dig its unrelenting claws into his flesh once more. Tello hissed and gripped it tight with his right hand again, scrambling to hold the gauze in place— not a difficult task, the damp fabric clung nauseatingly to the gore. Tello was pretty sure the aftermath hurt worse than the actual bite of those horrible jagged jaws. Stupid fucking dogs.
Without hesitation Leo drew his sword, defensively leveling it between them. “Nice try, bud. You almost had me there,” he said with feigned coolness. “So this was your plan? Lure me up here, pretend to be my brother, and then what? What’s the goal here?”
Tello wasn’t offended or surprised in the slightest that Leo immediately went on the defense, throwing skepticism in his face on the end of a blade. He supposed he was just thankful it wasn’t at his throat. Treading very lightly was imperative now. He always had been a horrible liar, so he may as well tell the truth. Something about deathbed confessions.
“I’m from… the future… but not yours… from another timeline… I think.” Even after all this time the time-traveller couldn't be sure, and was putting his best theory-foot forward—the final words of the sentiment rang with this genuine uncertainty and willingness to admit his ignorance.
He gave this information a moment to pass through the teenager before continuing, “I’m here… to fix my mistakes…” He grimaced, slumping back against the railing after revealing himself where his breath started to become more shallow.
He would have to keep himself alive for just a little bit longer it would seem. The older shifted his weight to one side, but it was more of a collapse than a settle. He struggled through the fog of his pain, black spots dancing around the edges of his vision as he mentally thrashed against the pull to the dark he had been so willing to submit to just moments before.
Words were coming out of him before he could realize it. “Your favorite… Jupiter Jim movie… is Jupiter Jim Sails… The Seven Galaxies.” If only he could get some air in his damned lungs, it would be a lot easier to speak without all this wheezing that soaked his chest in ache.
“Michael… gets low blood sugar… when he doesn’t eat…” That one had been particularly difficult when you live for decades in an apocalypse without a steady food supply. All the rations always went to Mikey first until CJ came along.
“Raphael… is allergic to peanuts…” Funny the little shards of information that never left his mind after all these years, even when they hadn’t been useful to him in decades— or even when he was clinging to life for the… how many times has it been?
Using the railing he had moved towards, the General pulled himself more upright in an effort to maintain his focus. "Look, kid...Props... to the no trust… but there's no tricks." As his plated shell found the railing again, he was able to switch hands and raise the one with the strange, glowing cuff to bring it into view. Counterclockwise, an underlayer of vibrant pink pixels slowly turned round his wrist. Rotating clockwise, at the same steady speed, the overtop of the digital base was a bright orange chain that radiated warmth even when dim. The two, distinct shapes and hues of Donatello and Michelangelo’s magic or ninpo were unmistakable.
"I tried to do… with tech… what Angelo could… with magic, but only… at a great cost. It would seem… this is the cost of mine." Being stuck here. Lost. Doomed to constant failures. Alone.
A worst case scenario of how this could turn fluttered across his mind, but he let it go no further; Leo either wouldn’t believe him and kill him, or be on his merry way. Tello would reset, and then he could go back to his mission. No strings attached to this world or its inhabitants that threatened to tear down the walls he had spent decades carefully building around him. He had a job to do, and it was to die. These kids didn’t need that.
As he let the arm fall back down onto his lap with little grace, the copper bile in his mouth suddenly became too much to bear. Twisting his neck as much as it would let him before sending a wave of numbness over his skull, he spat it out in a way that told of a lot of experience in doing so. “Either you believe me… or you don't. You can walk away… and pretend… you never saw me..."
Trap or not, claiming to be his ancient twin had nothing to gain by dying here on a dingy rooftop with only Leo’s hands keeping him from spilling himself down the walls of an alley. The wound was real enough, the proof of it dripped between his fingers and flooded the air with the scent of copper. It was plainly obvious Leo truly was the only thing standing between him and death if he laid here long enough.
“Okay,” Leo finally broke the silence, “I’m not walking away to just let you die. But, I do have one more thing I need before I take you to my home.”
Closing his eyes, Leo willed his mind out to the stranger in a link he knew only his brother would be able to accept. There was resistance at first from the sudden invitation, like the link was a muscle untrained Tello let atrophy. Still, he pushed, and pushed, and hoped a signal would go through. It was up to him whether or not he actually accepted the meld.
A test of testament and trust. Tello wasn’t at all surprised by the request Leo now offered him, something about it just perfectly aligned with the character he had always known his twin to have. It was a logical appeal, whether he was legit or not would be revealed in an instant and would be easily proven. Tello didn’t utter a word, knowing relenting would just make it go by faster—he wanted it over with.
Thinking back, the General realized he couldn’t even recall the last time he and his twin had mind melded. It felt like lifetimes ago since he and Leon were able to match their wavelengths in harmony for melding to even be possible. A horrible twisting of emotion under his plastron led him to believe they had unintentionally found that connection one last time in Tello’s final moments. It made him all too aware of the gnawing void that rested deep in his chest, as if dread had carved something out of him, leaving nothing but hollow in its wake. A thread cut, falling lax in two. A connection lost, always mournfully weeping if he let his mind linger on it too much.
Tello let his head duck down, not wanting to divide the strength to keep it upright and allow his mind to bridge a gap that had never felt larger simultaneously. He had little interest in letting this Leo that wasn’t his rifle through the space of his limited consciousness, but he felt he had even less of a choice in the matter. Options were limited, and time was running out.
He acknowledged the prodding and had to force himself to stop resisting it—the warmth of a familiar palm not yet aged with time pressing to the rusted gates that held back the floodwaters. Eventually, inky memories that rushed by on the surface of the dark waters within revealed themselves of their own accord.
Just an hour ago: Tello was in a dark construction zone of some kind in the city, fighting off a few kraang creatures that had gotten the jump on him. All teeth and flesh and eyes and feral fury inches away from his face, lashing out all around him. One of the huge, hound-like creatures' deafening snarls reached Tello’s ears just before it lunged, jagged teeth finding excruciating purchase in his side. Tello cried out, throwing the one currently latched on to his staff with a twist of his entire body. He felt a chunk of tissue rip open with the movement, tearing another roar from somewhere primal in his gut.
That memory was suddenly washed away by the raging tempest and another took its place almost in an instant.
January of this year: Tello had been face down in the dust of their first home that now lay dormant and destroyed. Echoes of a life long lost. Tello woke with a start as if it were the first time he had ever sucked air into his lungs, straightening his arms suddenly to push himself up from the floor. Everything ached and it made him sway back down with a thump. The last thing he remembered was being in the middle of battle, in the Technodrome, arms deep in the matter trying to control it to save the others and—CRACK! Now he was here. Where exactly was here? When was here?
Then it was gone, and the waves of time showed him a memory many, many years since passed. Of a time of apocalypse and war.
Leon was looking down his nose at Tello, but his brow was furrowed in disappointment, not anger. The leader’s broad chest rose and fell with a sigh. “And I wanted you to be more.” Despondence dripped down from the words.
Tello felt it pierce him like a bullet, swiftly leaving him with a new hole through his heart. An equally empty smile played on Tello’s lips as his gaze fell, putting his hands into his pockets as he began taking steps backwards to leave. “I’m sorry I’m not what you want me to be.”
The memories that all flashed by in an instant abruptly came to a halt as Tello’s diminishing grasp on consciousness started to slip. The connection began to go dark, threatening to sink its claws into Leo and drag him down with it. With all of his waning mental capacity, Tello grabbed the dark first and yanked it back, pulling the thread of connection until it forcefully snapped in two.
The sudden severance left Leo reeling, staggering back a step as reality tugged deep at his temples, the concrete roof kissing at his feet.
Regret flooded Tello’s marrow, he hadn’t meant for Leo to see any of that. He’d only meant to accept the meld just to prove that he could. But, it had been so long since he had melded. Coupled with him currently fighting off bleeding out, it had been completely beyond his control.
Tello tried not to fall over then as he mentally scrabbled back to the surface of the living, exhaustion from all that running and memories weighing him down. He was so tired. Tello felt his body move of its own accord to pull himself back up, using the railing he had begun to slump more against as they melded. Agonizing sparks shot through him as he clutched the gauze to the wound tighter, the fabric already soaked through.
He was sure everything shared with Leo hadn’t exactly been what the teenager expected, but he hoped it was enough to see the truth. “That… enough… for you?”
Sincerity was damning in Leo’s face when he became vividly aware that here was his brother bleeding out in front of him, even if it was some alternate version. He could see the moment the gears switched in the younger’s face, locking away distraction to get to work. “Shit, shit,” he cursed, dropping to his knees to reapply pressure. “Ok, I need you to talk to me and try to stay awake while I work. I’m gonna lift your arms so I can press the gauze here in place with the bandage.”
Leo didn’t wait for a response, propping the other’s arms up above his head, making quick work of wrapping surgical tape around his lower torso to secure the bandage in place. It was temporary, something to keep his insides from spilling out until he could do more– it was triage at best, safety pins in a black hole more realistically.
“Good job, you’re doing great,” Leo praised as he lowered his brother’s arms back down to a comfortable position. “How’re your legs feeling? I’m gonna have to help you stand to portal us outta here.”
The instant tonal shift of overflowing sincerity and concern from Leo made the General soften, if only slightly. It was enough for his shoulders to slouch a bit more and his mind to be less at attention—Leo believed him. He wasn’t alone. He was safe.
Clawing against falling prey to the darkness that beckoned him, a hand slick with blood grasped onto the first metal prong below his shoulders. He couldn’t even think up the will to push himself up, it nearly happened of its own prerogative. He was fading faster than he had hoped. Shaking knees threatened to betray him, but Leo was quick to duck under his arm and press himself to his uninjured side. A blip of pitch black that flooded the edges of his vision, then the next thing he knew he was on his feet, nearly collapsing onto Leo’s shoulders that felt so small in comparison to the twin he had come to know.
The immediate deposit of weight almost sent Leo back to the ground himself, but he huffed and stayed steady. “I gotcha, I gotcha,” Leo exhaled.
Tello all but sagged into his brother’s side involuntarily, and said nothing in return. It was getting more and more difficult not to vomit delirious words or the contents of his stomach.
His right arm slung its way around the back of Leo’s neck to stabilize. Somehow, he found the strength and will to stand up straighter, reclaiming some of his height over the teenager even when hunched over, as he was. The General’s feet stayed firm on the ground, but his hand remained gripped at the railing, trying to support his own weight and unburden Leo as much as possible.
Leo offered more encouragement, trying not to show he was struggling. “You can let go, I won’t let you fall. It’s gonna be okay.”
Tello attempted to take a breath that gingerly skittered through his chest, but he couldn’t seem to catch it in time—a rabbit fleeing the edges of the predator, of the dark, in panic. He needed to stay awake because Leo told him so. It was an order, so he must obey without question. He also knew the order of talking was only meant to encourage the same, but it was one he could not heed no matter how hopelessly he tried—even if he wanted to. He wasn’t entirely sure what he would say right now if he could seize that resolve, the words couldn’t find one another again through the pounding in his skull.
“I’ll have you at Casa de Leo faster than you can say ‘ azul siempre fue el más guapo .’” Leo’s words parted the seas of black that loomed just on Tello’s horizon, readjusting the weight on his side and reaching his leg out to grab the sword he’d dropped on the roof. It was easy enough to curl it in his foot and kick it up to his hand, bloodying the handle, and catching it to sweep it in one motion to rip the space between them and the lair open. A glistening portal of blue illuminated the area around them, serving as what Leo must have known would be a beacon to whatever his future brother had been fleeing from in the first place. “And in we go.”
It wasn’t until Leo stepped from the ledge and away from the support of the railing that he really understood just how much weight was still being kept from him. He had a split second to jut his leg out in front of him to keep from collapsing forward. He managed a laugh, possibly to ease his own nerves more than the full weight of the man over his shell. “What’re they feeding you in the apocalypse? Bricks?” Leo exhaled as he fully shouldered the almost-lax body of his significantly larger twin.
The familiar whoosh of passing through one of his twin’s portals washed over Tello like a brisk breeze, helping him ensnare the rabbit, catching the breath. He didn’t envy Leo, he had his work cut out for him.
+++
For the record, this was not what Leo meant when he’d told Donnie he’d hoped something exciting finally happened on tonight’s outing. It had been a slow week, consisting of little more than pigeon-watching and a drunk man’s magic show. He wasn’t even good. There used to be crimes and muggings and stuff, New York used to be a real town. So sue him for jumping at the first taste of thrill he’d seen; even if it came in the form of a hobbled-over mutant fleeing from kraang that were apparently back– nope . Not gonna go there.
He’d known from the start they weren’t human, but the weary-eyed gaze mirroring his own wasn’t one of his top ten predictions. He knew them as well as he did the scent of motor grease and sanitizer. They told of an over-boiled coffee pot and 4am hypotheses and a crooked, unapologetic smile at the prospect of tackling the unknown. They were the eyes that watched him take his first steps, trusted him and followed orders Leo didn’t know how to give. The very same eyes that saw the world in more complexities than Leo thought he himself could ever comprehend. They were Donnie’s eyes.
But late spring air had whipped at Leo’s mask tails, and he was in that moment acutely aware of the rising temperatures and promise of August anniversaries. A year, a year since Casey Junior was dragged to their doorstep and echoed the same words of time travel and alternate futures. He’d been there before, sung this same song and dance, and maybe that was the only reason Leo hadn’t called the guy a liar and left him to die. Because, yeah, the dude would’ve been a goner if Leo hadn’t shown up when he did. It was hard to dismiss time travel as a real possibility when the product of it joined you for family movie night every Saturday.
The meld hadn’t really gone according to plan either. What he’d hoped would end with a simple acceptance to his push sent him reeling across borrowed memories and things he was sure he wasn’t meant to see. Leo watched the other’s grasp of his mental guard and consciousness slip in real time, making it glaringly apparent he needed to act fast.
Under the buckling weight of his six-foot-something brother, Leo toppled into the portal more than he stepped through it, and willed it closed the moment Leo was sure they were both clear. The cool air greeted him immediately, sounds of sirens and humming pipes fading in favor of the smell of antiseptic and buzz of the oscillating tower fan in the corner. There was a fresh sheet over the cot in the center of the room, and Leo hobbled over and deposited the hunk of injury currently bleeding onto his shell onto the cot gracelessly.
The moment the cot dipped in with the weight of the body atop it, the elder grunted in an exhale that sounded involuntary. Leo winced sympathetically before positioning him to get the best angle possible of his wound, elevating his feet with a pillow to help reduce the lingering shock he was sure had already set in.
There was an alarming way that his not-twin stared into the middle distance, not quite setting his sights on anything in particular with a hazy gaze. His pupils remained dilated despite the new light cast on them by the overhead lamp Leo reached to switch on. What little skin was visible from beneath his increasingly dampened bodysuit was clammy and ill, his complexion draining rapidly. Not great signs.
Seemingly oblivious, the injured male turned his head into the pillow with eyes squeezed shut. Leo took a brief moment to mourn the sterile white fabric that was quickly soiled by smears of grime, sweat, and other unknowns he chose not to dwell on by the weathered aubergine bandana. Yeesh. Maybe that was why he found the guy hunched outside a laundromat.
“Thank you for flying with Hamato Airlines,” Leo put on his clearest voice while making a quick dash to the sink. He doubted his audience could even hear him anymore. “We hope to never be in this situation again, thanks.” He tossed the ruined gloves in a trashcan and began washing his arms up and down, the sink turned a damning pink as the remnants of his back-alley triage spiraled down the drain. It was a quick job, Leo didn’t have much time to waste. Every second he spent elsewhere was another heartbeat of blood being ejected from a fading body.
Replacing his gloves and rifling through his drawers, Leo grabbed the cleansing solution and multiple syringes, loading them with lidocaine on the spot and diluting them just enough to ease puncture pain. “Alright, got a bit of a painkiller here before we get started. We’ll start the first one on the count of three–”
“Skip it,” were the first words out of his brother’s mouth since arriving. He’d yet to open his eyes, but the insistence came through gritted teeth and shallow breaths.
Leo paused, the first syringe still raised, “Skip it?” he repeated. “It’s lidocaine, it’s a standard injection. Donnie’s never had a reaction to it before, it should be fine.”
The older mutant hissed something then, and Leo stepped closer to hear him. “I said… I don’t need it, I’ll manage. S-save it.”
Part of Leo wanted to ask what exactly he was supposed to be saving the stuff for. The medical-department of Eastlaird University was easy enough to raid– to borrow from, it wasn’t like it was a finite resource they used often.
But to his own credit, Leo was smarter than he looked. He took the muttering for what it was: a confession. Reading between the lines lied volumes of habit and desensitized nerves. Instinct must have driven him to oppose, and promised worse treatments in the past. Leo had the mind to wonder what kinds of meatball surgery he had been subjected to. The horror scenarios he conjured were almost enough to give him pause. Almost.
There’s probably something somewhere in a big smart book like The Art of War about negotiating when the chips are down, and you have no cards, but Leo’s never read the thing and he thought the writhing turtle on the cot in front of him was delerious. “Look, I get it. You’re big and tough, I’m so impressed.” Not waiting for a response, Leo lifted the arm on the injured side of his older twin and injected the first needle just above the wound. “But there’s no reason to be a hero here. I’ll get you a gold star for your bravery though.”
Leo didn’t linger on what was most likely the look of betrayal on the mutant's face, instead capping the syringe and setting it aside as he repeated the process about seven more times. He hoped the area would numb sooner rather than later as the raised red edges of the wound screamed irritation and sensitivity. Threading a needle through them would be agonizing, but he didn’t doubt the guy would muscle through it regardless.
Once the syringes were disposed of, Leo flushed the wound with proper antiseptic. He couldn’t see any visible debris, no solid entities where they shouldn’t be. Still, he dabbed the wound as gently as he could from the inside out and repeated the motions in a circular pattern. Another hiss escaped the man, and Leo hushed him with a tenderness usually reserved for a frightened Mikey after a scary movie, or Raph after waking up from a storm—something about this situation told him that he had to treat it with just as much fragility and care.
“Good news is I’m not seeing the need for irrigation or scrubbing, lucky you. Bad news is I’m about ready to patch this thing up.” Leo wiped at any remaining cleaning solution with moistened gauze to clear away the dried blood. “I know you’re probably feeling like a pincushion right about now, but I’ll get one of my brothers to help set you up with a nice hydration drip, once they get their butts out of…”
The skin on the back of Leo’s neck turned prickly, and every ninja instinct in him told him he was being watched. He turned quickly to the door, seeing his very own appropriately-aged twin staring wide-eyed and disheveled at the occupied cot at Leo’s side. Ah.
“... bed. Hey, Dee.”
+++
Several rooms elsewhere in the lair, Donnie was nearly jumping out of his swivel chair and breaking into a sprint to the next floor down toward the medbay. He slid and jumped masterfully through the halls of the crumbled storage facility they called home now— a sagging structure that slept soundly tucked away, quiet and private since its collapse during the invasion.
The teen had been contentedly dedicating some of his brain power to monitoring the little blue dot of Leo’s tracker while he had been more focused on a late night project. Keeping an eye on his twin’s nightly solo escapades was something he had done ever since Leo had started them nearly a year ago— he still couldn’t quite grasp it had been that long. A year simultaneously felt like a lifetime ago and only yesterday since their lives had been changed forever.
But this time, he had noticed the strange lingering in an alley, jumping to a rooftop nearby, then stalling around some more. As soon as the tracker blinked suddenly in the medbay, all of Donnie’s nerves lit up and practically shocked him out of his chair— the panic that his twin was hurt in some way immediately lifting him to his feet. Nowadays, he had come to anticipate the worst.
Donnie was just short of skidding around the corner to their infirmary, immediately awash with some semblance of relief when Leo’s unwavering tone reached him from down the hall. Talking to himself it would seem, but that was normal.
That was until Donnie was in the doorward, eyes falling on the audience of one. A dark figure was bleeding out into Leo’s hands and not giving any words in return. But… it wasn’t just anyone, it was— Him . It was… himself? Larger, older, tattered and hissing in pain with a timbre much rougher than his own, but it was unmistakable. It was him. His brain couldn’t even begin to process how this could possibly be, much less if it was real.
Dreaming. He must be dreaming, that had to be it. But, he couldn’t tear his widened eyes away, the orbs ready to bug right out of his head. He would have pinched or slapped himself if he could move, but arms now leaden with shock refused to cooperate. His feet may as well have been firmly planted, growing roots into the concrete below to render him completely immobile, including the breath caught in his lungs. Thoughts started but couldn’t finish, frantically unable to find the string that laced them together.
This couldn’t be real. How could an older version of himself even be here? He was bleeding, and by the looks of the crimson painted scene around his twin and…copy(?) it was bad. He could be from the same timeline as Casey. But no, that couldn’t be it, didn’t that Donatello die? Leo had blood all over him. He should still ask if he’s okay, but he couldn’t seem to find his voice. What ramifications was this going to have on the space time continuum? The strong stench of copper wafting from the room was churning his stomach in an unsavory turn. Was this other Donatello being here going to somehow erase him from existing in the same timeline? Surely there wasn’t enough room in one universe for two Donnie’s. He was pretty sure this is what short circuiting, or bluescreening, felt like. He was going to be sick.
“Hey, I’m talking to you,” a voice cut through his existential crisis. He looked up, and saw his twin’s eyes on him. “Are you with me?”
‘Evidently not,’ Donnie wanted to say, but never made it further than opening his mouth. Donnie’s tongue was iron and something thick threatened to spill from the back of his throat. He clamped his lips closed just as soon as he’d opened them.
He’d been standing there for a while, hadn’t he? Staring, lingering in a space between a living nightmare and complete dissociation.
Leo’s hands stayed busy just out of view, fidgeting with one thing or another as his feet carried him across the medbay in a hurried sense of duty. “Look alive, Dee. I need you to go get Raph for me, okay? I need his help.”
Leo’s loaded gaze was trying to tell him something, and Donnie didn’t think he had it in him on a good day to pick it apart. He was compartmentalizing, or something like that. Pushing tasks to get things done and this was Donnie’s. Gore and urgency aside, his twin asked so little of Donnie, and yet the softshell felt rooted to the floor. There was more to the direction. He wanted him to leave. He needed him out of the way.
Donnie could definitely do that. That is, if he could get his body on the same page. The roots keeping him in place receded from the soles of his feet just enough for him to stiffly turn on his heels back in the direction he came. One foot in front of the other. He needed to focus on one thing at a time before his brain that was working in overtime crashed. He had an objective; Find Raph.
As the leavings of stupefaction began to slowly trickle out of his nerves, he was able to pick up the pace. At last, he found that sense of haste, allowing him to break into a sprint once he was about halfway down the hall. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck! Reality came crashing down around him in droves. This wasn’t a dream. This was real. This was really, very bad.
Endless possibilities of how exactly an older version of himself had stumbled his way into bleeding out in their medbay raced through his mind. Time-travel was certainly a factor—if he had a nickel. (It was weird that it had happened twice.) But how was he… back? ‘Alive’ was a word he felt insensitive for even pondering. What had hurt him that badly and why? It certainly seemed a bit personal given the amount of blood. How did Leo even find him? Had his twin known about this sooner and not told him? What if he was some kind of doppelganger imposter there to infiltrate them from the inside?
As Donnie climbed back up the rubble path to their dorms again, his vitals monitor gave a muted beep in his ear that his heart rate was elevated. He diagnosed it was more likely attributed to the stress of the situation as opposed to his physical motion. Picking his way over concrete and rebar—moving quickly while panicked required all of his focus—he hit the ground running again as Raph’s room entered his line of sight. He wasn’t subtle about his entrance, there was no time for being polite right now. Leo and… the other… him needed help, like, yesterday.
Donnie panted as he grabbed on to the doorframe, catching himself just in time to not stumble past it. He wanted to call out to wake Raph, but the sound lodged itself in his chest. Speaking aloud required too much will right now. The hulking boulder in question was soundly sleeping at the far corner of the room, his raised bed bolted high enough to be just out of Donnie’s reach. Donnie could have just flown up a few feet with his battleshell motors, but he couldn’t divert the required brain power into thinking that far ahead.
Instead, he opted for kicking over a milk crate in one sweeping motion. Not paying any mind to the dirty laundry that came toppling out of it, Donnie scooted the crate into place with his foot despite its loud screeches of protests across the floor. Once atop it, the scientist gave several taps with his palm in quick succession to his brother’s shell, but got no response. Okay, time for rude awakenings.
Careful not to catch himself on a spike, the smaller’s desperate attempt at rousing the snapping turtle by shaking his undisturbed form became more fervent. At long last, Raph drowsily turned to look over his shoulder with dreams and drool still crusted to his face. “...Hm? Wha-izzit, Dee?”
Donnie instinctively went to speak with his hands instead of his voice, as he usually did when under immense pressure. Trembling hands moved, pointed and quick. ‘Follow me. Something you need to see. Now. Important.’
In an instant, Raph was sitting up and already moving to scramble out of bed. He was certainly awake now, barely blinking away the sleep heavy on his lids. “What is it? Did something happen?”
There were too many complications and not enough signs for Donnie to really answer effectively. He stepped down from the stool to allow Raph enough space to get to his feet. ‘Easier to show you,’ he replied with his hands again, the audible words curled up in his gut where they felt like they may rot.
He could tell the eldest was not keen on the answer, but was ready to follow close at the moment’s notice.
With that, Donnie spun back around and began retracing his steps out of Raph’s room down the hall. Raph was right on his tail—almost literally—as Donnie briskly walked, still unable to shake the feeling like he was breathing through a straw with lips tightly pressed together.
Every stride and turn they took quickened with each step, the pace in tandem with Donnie’s heart rate. Raph was able to keep up easily, but his anxiety manifested in the form of a barrage of constant fussing and word vomiting. “Is everyone okay? Where’s Dad? Should we get the others? What time is it? Have you even slept yet?” These were more ramblings, an outlet of nervous energy. That was until, the realization of where exactly they were making a quick beeline for started to become clear.
He went quiet then, and Donnie had a second to brace for the impact of the question he knew was coming,
“Where’s Leo?”
+++
With Donnie’s departure came a new set of worries Leo forced aside. Yeah, he could imagine how fucked it must be to see your future self bleeding out delerious in the middle of the night, but said future-self had to be tended to before Leo could really focus on that. Maybe Raph would take care of it.
He hoped the situation spoke mostly for itself, as Leo had little more information than they did. He still couldn’t identify how long the guy had been out there, injured or otherwise. The bite looked fresh at least. Not-Donnie hadn’t even tried to patch it. When Leo thought about it, it looked more like he had just sat back and waited for it to kill him. And wasn’t that just a cheerful thought?
“M’kay,” Leo hummed, mostly to himself. “Just gonna get this show on the road while they’re on their way.”
He was grateful that the nastiest part of the wound was such a small portion of it. The punctures would heal in time, just had to be patched and monitored for infection. The largest laceration was deep, and the leathery consistency of the softshell’s bridge meant Leo would have to sew it shut. It was easier than a shell repair, at least. Leo wasn’t overly fond of the idea of drilling holes at this hour of the night.
He got to work quickly, using forceps to pry the wound into a convenient position and threading the needle through with a precision he thought Mikey would be proud of. The motions were second nature to him, he pried and pulled and tied and repeated. He did the same on many practice pads over the years, and tried hard not to think about the fact that this wasn’t one of those unfeeling pieces of rubber. As long as his eyes didn’t wander from their job, he could keep his head clear.
A practiced hand meant it didn’t take him long for the amount of sutures needed, and Leo cleaned the excess blood that escaped from the flesh being pulled together before covering it sufficiently. The nasty part was over, at least. Less risk of Donnie blowing chunks upon his return.
Leo stepped back then, depositing his gloves in a nearby trashcan and kicked it to the side. He took a moment to admire his work. “Man, I am good,” he whistled. He liked to imagine the breathless hunk of turtle on the cot agreed with him. “Now that we’ve got you all plugged up…” he trailed off, grabbing sanitizing wipes and turning the mutant’s wrist over to wipe the area. There were bags in the freezer, labeled with dates and names, and he thanked pizza supreme that he’d poked Donnie recently enough to still have a good pint of blood in his name.
It took little time to dilute the pint with saline solution, and Leo muttered a quick apology before hooking the older turtle up with blood he didn’t even have to check to know he’d be a match for. He grimly knew it wouldn’t be enough, and contemplated the best way to drain another pint from his twin while taking a few vital readings to busy himself as the transfusion set. Blood pressure and BPM were both low, other indicators of shock and not too surprising. They’d both revert as he took to the drip and rested.
A pair of footsteps began approaching from down the hall, a hushed voice pressing questions Leo couldn’t quite make out. He thought he registered his name just before the medbay door swung open and Raph practically tumbled through.
Raph’s eyes scanned Leo up and down with blatant concern until whatever he opened his mouth to say suddenly died in his throat as he took in their new guest. Donnie’s head peeked around the corner, seemingly curious, but he didn’t dare step inside.
“Fantastic timing, brother. I’ll give you a minute to process,” Leo said, scribbling his vital readings down on an impromptu chart he set on the edge of the cot. He walked past Raph then, patting him on the arm before making his way over to his twin, “Can I borrow your blood, Dee?”
Donnie’s eyes widened then, fumbling hands raising to sign, ‘What?’ Ah. He’d really been thrown that hard, huh?
Leo nudged his shoulder, urging him back into the hall and away from the existential elephant in the room. “Yeah, our guy sprung a leak on the way over here and, surprise! You’re a perfect match. I don’t think what we had stored is gonna be enough to get him back to a pretty color.” He glanced back over his shoulder where Raph was torn between watching them and taking in their party guest. Leo exaggeratedly slung an arm over his twin’s shoulder in turn, oozing what he hoped was an air of calm and nonchalance, “What do ya say?”
“Leo,” Raph cut in. “ What is happening in here?”
“I swear he was like that when I found him,” was the quick response, because Leo never really knew when to lock in and shut up. “Seriously though, I found him roughed up and brought him here after a, let’s say, ‘thorough investigation’. He’s legit, I don’t know much more than that. But, yeah, I think he’s our Don from the future.”
Raph stared at him for a long moment before dragging his hand down his face, tugging at the tired under his eyes. “Yeah, that hardly answers anything.”
Leo almost felt bad for him, if not for his own exhaustion of the situation surpassing Raph’s. “I don’t know what you want me to tell you. I got him hooked up with the good stuff, tapped straight from the source. He’s not gonna be answering many questions ‘til we get him fully situated though.” Leo gestured towards his Donnie, who was characteristically quiet still. “Hence the need for more.”
Donnie looked between them and quickly raised a hand in the shape of a C to his forehead, bringing it down across his face to his chin in the motion of a mask lowering. It was the sign they’d agreed would be used for Casey Junior’s name.
Raph caught on quickly, pressing a fist down into his open palm. “Of course! Lemme grab my phone, Raph will give Casey a quick call and see if he knows anything.”
There was a groan from deeper in the room, and Leo almost thought it was a creak of the cot before the not-so-prone body atop it began moving. He fumbled blindly to get his arms under him and started to sit up, prompting Leo to shove past Raph to put a hand on his chest and force him back down. It was laughably easy.
“Whoa there, chill. Just like, go to sleep or something. We’ve got you taken care of.”
Future Donnie’s eyes remained squeezed shut, but he shook his head with intent. “Casey… Jones?” he rasped.
Raph met Leo’s eyes, doing nothing to hide his surprise. They both thought the guy was in outer space by now, not actively listening . “Yeah. Well–Jones Junior. He’s also from the future, maybe the same one you’re from.”
There were a few seconds of silence then, and Leo almost convinced himself the guy drifted off before he made another futile push against his hold. “Shouldn’t… be possible. CJ in this timeline… how? He hasn’t been born yet…”
Oh. That was going to be an interesting talk, and Leo mentally called nose-goes for being the one to give it. Raph and Donnie looked equally lost before Raph returned to his senses first. “I’m just gonna…” he pointed awkwardly over his shoulder, “and let him explain.” With that, Raph excused himself and took off to retrieve his phone.
And then there were three. Two, technically? Two and a half, Leo decided. Two and a half headaches, he was certain.
Donnie fidgeted nervously by the door, eyeing the bag of his old blood like he was silently pushing Leo to get their next step over with. Leo didn’t actually remember Donnie agreeing to the transfusion, but score.
“We can do this in your room,” he said, but the moment he eased his hold on his twin’s older counterpart, he pushed back up with persistent stubbornness. “Ack– dude,” Leo reapplied pressure and forced him back on the bed. “I just stitched you shut, can you maybe not rip that open?”
He shot an apologetic look to Donnie then, hating how this was dragging out. “We’ll get that over with soon. I just gotta stay here and babysit, apparently.”
And bless Raph for his stellar timing once again just minutes later. He heard him before he saw him, the snapping turtle rounding the corner with his phone still in-hand. “Casey’s on his way, he said he’ll be quick. What can we do in the meantime?”
“Hold this for me,” Leo made a wide sweeping gesture to the older softshell. “He thinks he’s an escape artist. I gotta go tap Donnie for more juice before this stuff runs out.”
Raph nodded, trading places with Leo and cooing to their patient softly. “Take it easy, big guy. Raph’s here, there’s no reason to get riled up.”
Leo didn’t stick around, grabbing a few things he needed and tucking them under his arm before marching Donnie straight to his room. He hoped he’d be more comfortable there, as his twin’s expression was still just on the wrong side of vacant for his liking. The less he drifted, the better.
He didn’t say anything as Donnie sat in his desk chair with an empty expression, watching him clean his arm and wrap a band around his bicep. He tapped it once, twice, before resting a hand on Donnie’s shoulder and urged him to relax. His twin complied, and Leo readied the needle and tube feeding into a bag.
“You should probably look away,” he finally muttered. Donnie’s stare, no matter how dead-eyed it was, worried Leo that he’d get squeamish and draw the process out. At the lack of response, Leo took his hand and made an exaggerated show of breathing in, holding it for three seconds and marking each one with a tap to his plastron, then exhaling. Donnie followed suit after a round, breathing in time with Leo as he grounded himself. “There you are,” Leo gave him a crooked smile. “You with me?”
He was met with a closed fist being signed affirmatively, and Donnie’s eyes settled on the needle positioned in his twin’s hand before turning away with his eyes squeezed shut. That was more like it. Leo tapped the vein again, waiting for Donnie to go loose, before beginning his process.
“I know, I know. Not the way you planned your night going, huh? Think of this like an investment– you’re giving this up now to use it again in, what, 20 something years? With interest!” Leo babbled, because what else could he do? His foot tapped with no consistent rhythm against the cold floor of Donnie’s lab, and he bopped his head to keep the mood as easygoing as possible. A medic knew how to do damage control, and Leo had a lot of damage to control here. “You gotta hydrate and eat after this, though. That’s an order. Water or juice or whatever, just don’t touch the coffee.”
The corner of Donnie’s mouth twitched into a tighter frown, and it was the only indication Leo had that he’d heard him. It was encouraging, at least. The more present Donnie was, the better he was processing… this whole situation.
Raph was probably doing the best he could. The big guy always did cope best when being of use to his family. Leo wasn’t sure he’d ever forget watching Raph fall apart at the seams, drowning in his own inadequacy and stepping over an edge Leo hadn’t known he could pull him from at the time. There was a special kind of horror to watching your hero break in a way you didn’t know was possible. He hoped those days were behind him, and Raph would come to him if there was something he felt he couldn’t handle. So, yeah, chaperoning their newest addition was probably the best thing Raph could be doing for himself right about then.
Distantly, Leo knew there was a lot he wasn’t letting himself process. He also had no intention to change that, and kept his mind glued to his work. Better to compartmentalize and be okay than to think for a second and unravel when you have a job to do. Leo had to pull his weight somehow.
The leader wasn’t really sure what to expect upon Casey’s arrival. He shared so little about his past, save for the parts he’d weaponized to drive a point home. Pulling information from him had been so easy at first, back when Casey’s timeline was so freshly gone Leo assumed he wasn’t yet thinking in past tense. It was more like pulling teeth now, skirting around topics that gave the boy a haunted look, and learning through trial and error what was and wasn’t cool to bring up. As far as Leo knew, this guy being here was just a walking trigger.
And then there was the flip side. Leo knew so little about the original timeline that there was a chance this older Donatello wasn’t even Casey’s. And then what? Another time branch thing had spilled over into theirs? Would any of them even know where to start going about dealing with that? Was contacting Casey this soon without any answers a bad idea?
Oh, shit—Mikey, Dad and April would want in on this too. They’d probably be really mad to not be notified immediately, huh? Well, Leo was gonna let Raph make those calls. Leo’s hands were busy.
He felt his agitation become increasingly hard to ignore as the bag by his leg filled slowly, and Donnie’s restlessness grew in tandem as the minutes passed. His own foot began tapping, and he picked at the arm of his chair with his free hand anxiously. Leo knew this was sensory hell for his twin, but they’d made it a habit of collecting blood as often as possible to always have a pint ready. They’d scraped by with mostly sprains and bruises most of their lives, but the invasion last year let them know just how sorely unprepared they were for anything more drastic. This was part of Leo’s fix.
“Almost done,” he finally whispered, taking as much more as he dared before pulling the needle from his brother and shaking his cramping hand out. He wiped it quickly, fastening a cotton ball over the area with a blue bandaid.
A muted zip was the only indication when Donnie’s drone companion suddenly zoomed into the room, coming to a perfectly timed stop between them. SHELLBY, Don’s newest creation and equally newest member of the family—well, Leo supposed maybe not anymore—opened her holographic shell to offer a couple of water bottles and a protein bar. “Here!” she enthusiastically declared, thin wings beating so fast they were nothing but a blur where she hovered. “You said Boss needs to hydrate, so this is a start. Anything else I can do to help?” The droid spoke to Leo directly, recognizing when her creator wasn’t exactly in a talkative mood.
“You, ma’am, are a lifesaver.” Leo blew the drone a kiss as he unscrewed the cap from a bottle and pressed it into Donnie’s hand. “Keep him company for me while I run the goods back to the medbay, will you?”
SHELLBY gave a little shudder of joy at the praise, the black screen across her face lighting up with a pixelated smile. “Can do,” she replied with her characteristically optimistic confidence, and hovered out of Leo’s way to also move closer to Donnie, but was considerate not to make contact.
Donnie numbly lifted the bottle to his lips, tilting the water for a single drink while his gaze went abroad again. Just when it seemed he was drifting too far, he set the bottle down and blinked back into focus before glancing over Leo, almost as if questioning why he was still there.
“Yeah yeah, I’m outta here,” Leo waved him off. “Listen to what SHELLBY tells you. She’ll snitch if you don’t.”
Leo spared a glance over his shoulder before leaving, mouthing a quick ‘thank you’ to SHELLBY before tucking the bag of blood under his arm and taking his tools with him as he hurried back to the medbay. Ideally, he wouldn’t need it for a while longer, but it was nice to have it ready so Leo could get other things done in the meantime. Thumbs to twiddle and whatnot.
He entered the medbay unceremoniously, waving the spoils of his trip in show before marching it back to the fridge to store.
Raph was still dutifully standing over their patient, who seemed to have chilled out for the most part. His eyes tracked Leo’s movement with notable delay, but in the time he’d been gone, the softshell was already looking a few shades healthier. His breathing was less labored, and the tension that lined his every muscle before had finally faded.
“And how is our star student doing now?” Leo made his way over and shook his remaining energy out of his hands in a stim, low by his legs.
If Raph noticed, he blessedly didn’t comment. “He ain’t tap dancin’ outta here any time soon. Did you lose Donnie?”
“Bled him dry, yeah.” Leo took another quick reading of their cot surfer’s vitals, noting the slow improvement with satisfaction. “He’s with SHELLBY in his room, I’ve got her watching him for a bit. He’s kinda out of it.”
“I noticed,” Raph hummed. He stood there for a moment, eyes darting around the room aimlessly. He chewed his lip, tapped his fingers together anxiously, before asking, “what did this?”
That was a great question. One Leo admittedly still didn’t have a clear answer to. A brief image flashed behind his eyes of a drippy goopy hound sinking jagged teeth into flesh, but everything was still so uncertain that Leo felt wrong sharing it. He probably hadn’t meant to see it anyway, maybe there was more that he’d missed.
Leo settled to shrug instead, feigning disinterest like he hadn’t wondered the same the entire time he assessed the elder turtle before them. “You can always ask him.”
Raph looked troubled then, moreso than before if at all possible. “I tried talkin’ to him. It, uh, didn’t really pan out. I don't think he believes I’m… here.”
Something about that struck Leo as odd, and he looked up from his patient for the first time to fully take Raph in. “Where else would you be?”
They’d have to put a pin in that conversation, unfortunately, because Casey Jones barreled into the room at full speed with all of his mother’s grace.
Which was to say: none.
+++
The way Leo worked may not have been nearly as experienced as the twin Tello knew, but steady hands, quick and intentional, remained just the same. Leonardo wasn’t always the greatest ninja of all time, but he always was a great medic. Frigid claws of oblivion and delirium repeatedly sunk into Tello’s entire being, threatening to drown him below a pitch black surface. For a while, the only thing bobbing him back up like a catch on a hook was the needle and thread repeatedly entering and exiting his flesh before the pain relief could do its work.
Tenderhearted shushings and encouragement being cooed at him began blending together, a whirlpool of various shades of blue and red all swirling and blurring the lines, bleeding across his conscious and subconscious. It was proving to become more difficult to discern hysteria from reality. This timeline’s Raph was softer around the spiked edges, if anyone could believe such a thing. Raph and Leo’s presences that ebbed and flowed from his perception were the eye of the storm, their words and touch rendering Tello practically defenseless.
At the very least, he could feel the wound had been sewn shut, and foreign hydration was being fed into his veins. Exhaustion had replaced his very marrow, but he could feel he was stable for the time being, which was solace enough.
The minutes that ticked by were a brief eternity until footsteps too heavy for Tello to recognize echoed down the hall, rapidly nearing the medbay and rousing him instinctively. As they entered the doorway, Tello allowed his head to fall to one side to peer past the end of the cot at the frozen figure that remained fixated there. The first things the General noted were the taller stature, the filled out muscles, and the dark hair that now curtained his shoulders instead of brushing just at his ears as it used to. But then, brown eyes that lent themselves to the most benevolent of blacks found his gaze, and fondness nearly flooded him in response. He would know those doe eyes upheld by a proud nose and sweetly crooked tooth gap anywhere .
“Hey, Kiddo.” It came out quiet and huskier than he intended, but hoped it didn’t matter given the state of things.
Casey Junior stayed deathly still, staring wide eyed, and Tello was certain he could hear his heart pounding from across the room. It was then that those eyes began to glisten with the tears welling at their rims, already eager to spill over. All breath, the teenager’s words shook more than a leaf in the darkest tempest, “Uncle Tello…Is it really you?”
A newfound air of maturity in the voice since he heard it last was a lullaby to Tello’s weariness. A ghost of a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Yeah. You’ve gotten bigger.” It had nearly astonished him, he had to voice the height Casey had gained—he had grown like a dandelion weed. As his weary eyes fell down the inches, they settled on something else; the Genius Tech™ emblem reflecting the obnoxious fluorescent light. By all calculations, evidence suggests it’s been years , but he still wears it.
Casey letting out a broken, but sentimental, laugh retracted him from his powers of reasoning, just before the boy quickly cleared the empty space of the room to his bedside. Without hesitation, Tello tucked his elbows under himself and began to push his upper half to an incline to meet him. The exact moment the first groan rumbled out of him, Leo and Casey’s palms were both on his chest in protest. “Hey–Easy, easy,” Casey softly pleaded.
Well, now he was just outmatched— mentally, emotionally and physically—for now. Thus, he relented, easing back onto the pillow with only little objection this time.
Casey all but collapsed to his knees and gripped the edge of the cot, the mist of tears clouding his irises coming fully into view. “I… I can't believe you're here. I thought I would never see you again. I don't-I don't understand. H-How? How are you...? How did you get here?” The words spilled out of him unabashedly. Thankfully, Tello was clear-headed enough to catch it all, even the word left unsaid.
The General raised a hand damned by trembles in a gentle wave, diplomatically urging Casey to slow down—of which his nephew heeded at once. He let the hand of callous fall onto Casey’s, giving it his best effort at a loving squeeze.
For a half-second, Tello had to divert his focus to trying to get a deep enough breath before speaking. “There's a lot… to explain…I know. And I will. But, I would rather… call a b-briefing rather than… explain it eight times.” He had already done the mental math of his updated, presumed headcount while trying to ignore the pain.
The younger blinked away his tears that fatly dropped to mix with the blood on the sheet below, shaking his head. “Right, right, of course.” With his gaze ducked down, it settled on the glowing device resting at his Tello’s wrist.
“But… I could ask the same… of you,” Tello continued, already trying to rummage through all the probabilities of how this reunion came to be, and to not let Casey linger on the cuff. There were too many scenarios to decipher, and for every one, he chastised himself for somehow missing that CJ was here . But how could he have known? He had done minimal surveillance on this timeline’s version of his family, and he had never detected any sign of his presence.
And wherever Leon went, Casey followed. He ignored the gnawing void in his chest, and now held the dimmest spark of hope his twin could somehow be in this timeline as well. Tello was eager to ask, but held his tongue. Best not let that hope get too bright, he wouldn’t be able to handle the drowning of its light with the anticipated, familiar sense of defeat. Whichever theory was correct would be proven in due time and happen of its own accord.
Tender pressure clutching his hand brought him back to Casey, who was vainly attempting to swallow his emotion, not even close to succeeding. “Sorry–I just… I missed you so much.”
A strange twisting began to form under Tello’s plastron, effectively choking him as it swelled. Even strained, he managed the words, “It’s okay. I missed you too.” He then cleared his throat in retaliation, tongue pressing to the roof of his mouth that was uncomfortably dry.
A beat passed between them in the metallic scented air, and finally, Casey found the courage to pick his chin up again to meet Tello’s admiring gaze. “Uncle Tello…”
Tello’s whole chest filled with a warmth he had nearly forgotten at the name even the second time it was uttered.
“Can I hug you?”
Casey didn't have to wait long for a response. His answer was one of Tello’s formidable arms extending to pull the teen into his shoulder with all caution for himself thrown to the wind. Tello felt Casey’s emotions melt into him the very second they were entwined, strong arms wrapping around Tello’s neck and holding just tight enough to not hurt him, as if his life depended on it. A hot breath more reminiscent of a single sob was wept against him, painfully tugging at his heartstrings.
Shit. He had been gone a while for the kid, hadn't he? This information took heavy residence in his gut, and he made a mental note to privately apologize later for whatever grief he had caused his nephew. He had never meant to hurt anybody.
They stayed this way for a long moment, but Tello would be damned if he let go first. It was the least he could do for what he could only imagine Casey had been through if he was this shaken by his presence. This confirmed it for the scientist, so he had died.
Some feet away, Tello caught Leo out of the corner of his eye, idly pretending he wasn’t intently tuned in by keeping himself busy and wandering around the medbay. Getting into Leonardo’s head—no matter the age, timeline, version, etcetera—was something he had stopped trying to do a long time ago, and he certainly wasn’t going to start now. In a moment of poor timing, Leo glanced over and the two made eye contact for a split second before the medic tore it away as quick as it came, caught in the act.
Tello also spotted a certain large, red figure several feet away, leaning back against a table with his arms crossed over his extensive chest. A figure that was still sending him reeling every time it entered his vision, watching, and listening closely.
Casey’s grasp was all reluctance as he eased back onto his knees, both of his hands returning to holding one of Tello’s once again as soon as he broke away, “You don't look like you're in very good shape. Please, get some rest, and you can tell me everything later.”
Tello wanted to take in that newly matured face— he had stubble on his chin now— for as long as he was able, but found he was struggling to maintain the strength to keep his eyes open. He gave way to their call, and let his lids fall shut. “Yeah…Well…you should see the other guy…” This earned him another heartfelt laugh fragmented by the ball he could hear in Casey’s throat, which was good enough for him.
Much to his dismay, his family was right, rest was the quickest course of action to getting back on his feet as soon as possible. Thanks to Leo’s efforts—and the knowledge he was safe —that deep slumber still lingering at the edges of his mind beckoned him stronger than ever. He was so tired. He fully intended to voice this sentiment before it could seize him, but it ensnared him too earnestly. The instant he gave even a fraction of submission, it dragged him down, and he plummeted into the umbral darkness of unconsciousness.