firefight - remrose - Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (Cartoon 2018) [Archive of Our Own] (2024)

Chapter 1

Chapter Text

It's firefight and I, I won't run
There's spit and spite all through my blood
For you and me, there's nowhere left to hide
Except you and me, there's no one else alive

- Firefight by Jimmy Eat World

[]

"Leo's still up there."

Donnie looked up. And for a moment, the world stood still.

Then his brain started to move, to predict patterns, to take everything he knew about Hamato Leonardo and come to the blood-chilling conclusion. Or maybe it was the ridiculous notion of 'twin-sense', but either way. Donnie looked up and he knew exactly what Leo was going to do.

"No." Donnie said, stomach dropping to his toes. "No, no, no, no, no no!"

"Donnie -- !" Raph tried to reach out, but it was too late. Donnie's dazed and hurting body was already moving, the battle shell shifting to flight mode and launching directly into the air. He didn't have enough time. He had to be fast.

"Casey. Casey come in." Leo's voice came over the communicator, and Donnie hated that he was right, he hated his stupid twin and his stupid ideas, because he knew what was about to happen.

There was distant shouts from his brothers, but it didn’t matter because they were okay, they were fine and Leo was about to not be. The urgency pushed his ninpo, twisting back his bo and summoning veritable jet engines to propel him towards the portal. There wasn’t enough time. He just needed a little more time.

The G forces battered his body, already aching from his smashed shield and hurtling off a sky scraper. He had a lot of ground to make up. The expanse of it yawned between him and his goal, while Leo was in his ear saying exactly what Donnie thought he'd say. Once I’m on the other side, close the portal.

Donnie was well aware of the thought process that brought Leo to this conclusion. It was the only possible way to save the world. He hated it.

The cackle of Raph over the comm. begging Leo not to do this. If only they could stall him long enough. The Technodrome grew bigger and bigger as he hurtled towards it, but it was still too far.

More strength. More push. Donnie grit his teeth as they rattled ominously in his head. He would never forgive himself if he was too slow. There was no second option here. He couldn't bear to think of a universe where Donnie stood and watched this happen.

Not going to happen. Donnie pushed harder, a streak of purple lighting up the bleak skyline, gaining rapid altitude. Stealing the breath directly from his lungs. The whip of wind that streaked tears from the corners of his eyes. He stretched out a hand, watching as the figure of Leo came into sight. Trapped underneath the claws of a monster.

"What you fail to realize," Leo said, voice crackling over the comm. "I missed on purpose."

When the two of them disappeared, Donnie didn't halt -- if anything he pushed harder. He'd known, from the moment he launched into the air, that he couldn't stop this from happening. Leo was going to save the world by dragging the monster into the prison and shutting the door. Donnie tore through the air, directly towards the portal, aware he had seconds to get in there.

Because if his twin was going to hell, then Donnie was too.

Nothing else registered beyond the scream of wind past his ears, the stretch and pull of overextending his ninpo, tunnel vision towards the mouth of the portal. He just needed to get past the threshold and he'd be --

"Casey! Close the portal now!" Leo's voice came, a million miles away.

Donnie stretched his limits and beyond, desperate, reaching. A flicker of blue and silver passed him and Donnie reflexively snatched one out of the air with a shell arm. Leo's sword. Ahead of him, the Kraang beating the sh*t out of his brother.

"Casey, please!" The pain in Leo's voice. Donnie passed the threshold.

"Donnie, wait!" Raph cried.

There was no time left for apologies. One final push, just moments before the portal rapidly shut. A snap, and a burst of energy behind Donnie.

He'd made it. All his momentum carried him forward, towards his twin that was saying something stupid that Donnie couldn't even hear because he was so focused on his goal. Leo let go of the Kraang, drifting off into space with a stupid grin on his face and --

Donnie collided with Leo in a tangle of limbs. There was an instinctive cling in return from his twin, before the realization sunk in.

"No." Leo breathed in his ear, immediately shattered. "No, no, no, no, no!"

Every muscle in Donnie's body was shaking like an earthquake from the amount of effort he'd just expended. The explosion caught up to them, sending the twins spiralling away into space and debris.

For one singular moment, Donnie allowed himself a burst of victory. His heart was still thudding a thousand miles an hour in his chest, having been absolutely terrified he wasn't going to make it in time. But he did. And he held onto Leo, his prize.

Then they hit the ground, the sudden tumble bursting them apart. Donnie felt the world spin, rapid and disorientating, before he slammed into something rock and cracking under his impact.

His ears were ringing. Everything kept spinning. But his guard raised, metaphorical hackles rising, as heavy thunderous footsteps approached.

"You ruined everything!" Kraang Prime roared, imposing figure of sharp lithe lines cut through Donnie's vision.

Donnie's heart hadn't been given a moment to slow. He still hadn't even caught up to the shatter of his shield, let alone the agony he'd just pushed through to get there.

"And what was the point of you?" Kraang Prime was looking directly at Donnie, approaching and raising his foot. Donnie had enough a moment to think, sh*t, before it crashed down on him. Too dazed and disoriented to try and defend himself.

A menacing lean overtop sent crushing pain through all the intersections of Donnie's body. Prime got in his face and hissed, "What did you think this would accomplish other than giving me another toy?"

Donnie loved to give a witty reply. Something smart and scathing and would prove himself a worthy opponent. Unfortunately, he couldn't breathe, so he just spat in the Kraang's face.

Another roar.

"Pests. Both of you." Prime said. He turned towards Leo and froze. Donnie tipped his head but saw nothing. Leo was gone, a crater where he'd landed but nothing else.

"What's this?" Prime hissed, turning around but still not spotting the blue turtle. "You claim duty yet you abandon your kin when I have him trapped after he foolishly tried to save you?"

Donnie leaned back, breathing slow and even, trying to calm his racehorse of a heart. It was beginning to painfully assault his ribcage. He knew Leo had a plan. He always had a plan. Just give him a minute. Just wait.

Prime slammed Donnie back into the rocks, and he'd braced himself enough that only a small pained sound tore from his throat, even when the floor broke through and Donnie plunged into freefall. Only a moment before he cracked into more rocks below, arching up, still trapped under Prime's claws.

The blows rained down with a furious scream, fist then fist then fist. Then for a moment, barely even a milisecond, Prime let go of Donnie to rear back both arms in preparation for what looked like would be a very painful drive into the rocks. In that tiny window of opportunity, a blue portal opened underneath Donnie and swallowed him, shutting just as quickly. Donnie tumbled into Leo's arms.

Immediately, Leo covered Donnie's mouth, muffling any pained sounds from the jostling. He was staring straight ahead in cold terror, sweat down his brow, pupils tiny.

Donnie's logical mind took a moment to backtrack -- Leo taking Prime's moment of distraction to retrieve his sword, which had rolled away from Donnie's shell arm on impact, and hiding until he could retrieve Donnie. But they hadn't gone far, and the danger of being seen was dangerously high.

He waited for Leo to portal them away again, but he just as quickly came to the hurdle: where? It wasn't as if they had any idea of somewhere safe to escape to, other than the obvious idea of trying portal home.

But to try now and possibly open a portal back to Earth while Prime was still a stone's throw away was just asking to let him back where they didn't want him. He tapped Leo's hand once to show he understood and it peeled off his mouth.

Blinking through his rattled disorientation, Donnie shifted up just enough to try and follow Leo's gaze. Kraang Prime's figure was stalking, tail whipping angrily, a roar of pure fury not nearly far enough away.

Donnie's trembling hand reached out and touched Leo's face so he'd turn towards him instead. He mouthed: hide.

There was an utterly paralyzed terror in Leo's gaze. His eyes flickered between Donnie and Prime before he returned, helpless: where?

Yeah, yeah, good question. Ignoring the pain and the weakness throughout his whole body, Donnie evaluated their surroundings. They were crouched behind some debris, but it would not hold up for long, and it was going to be obvious soon enough. They had to get some room between them and Prime so they could regroup.

Leo was wavering, an uncharacteristic amount of indecision. Something almost crushed. Donnie didn't have much strength left, but he always had some for Leo. And for whatever reason Leo was faltering, it was up to his twin to pick up the slack.

Running was pointless. They would never be faster than the Kraang. But they could hide -- this dimension looked huge, it would at least take him a while to find them. Hiding too close nearby was a probably a bad idea, but there weren't a ton of other options that wouldn't result in being seen.

Donnie carefully disentangled them, ignoring the way Leo squeezed harder to try and keep him close. He put on his most serious, firm expression. Pushing down on his own emotions to be exactly what Leo needed in that moment, calm and ready. Even as his hands shook from pain. He had to physically drag Leo's chin to get him looking at Donnie instead of the raging Kraang in the distance, and once he had his attention he began to silently sign.

'Can you portal both of us?' Donnie asked.

'Where?' Leo repeated, the frantic motion of his finger back and forth beside him.

'Can you?' Donnie pushed his fists downward with force, showing the emphasis.

Leo visibly swallowed. He looked back at the Kraang, then back to Donnie with a nod. He added, 'If you need me to.'

They were both exhausted. Leo's chest was heaving for air, though he barely made a sound with it. There was a nasty bruise on the side of his face that had Donnie concerned about potential head injuries. He wanted to ease the terror that wasn't wiping away, even though they were both still alive.

Rosalind Franklin, they were both still alive. Despite the agony racing up and down all his limbs, Donnie couldn't get over how f*cking relieved he was to be within arm's reach of his twin. He'd really felt like he was going to lose him. Stupid, selfless idiot. Okay, he was relieved and a bit angry. There was time for that later. They needed to get away.

In a situation where Leo did not know the geography, portalling was restricted to line of sight. If it was their line of sight, then it was Prime's as well. But plummeting through the floor reminded Donnie that there were more than just the surfaces they could see surrounding them. Three-dimensional space. Or the fundamental rule of humans that would hopefully apply here: no one ever looked up.

Donnie cranked his head back and inspected the debris above them, drifting through the infinite space. A bright white star illuminating the area with many more further away. There were pieces of an old alien spaceship above them. It didn't appear to be Kraang, which was good enough for Donnie. He silently pointed up at it.

Leo looked too, rounded eyes taking a moment to flicker over the distant ship, apparently deciding on a spot as he adjusted his grip on his sword. A spark of blue, lighting up his markings, and the portal winked into existence beside them.

Donnie glanced over Leo's shoulder and locked eyes with Kraang Prime, who spotted the gleam of blue and was charging them at top speed. His stomach dropped to his toes, blood going ice cold. He trusted that the portal was going somewhere safe and snatched up Leo's hand and to drag him through.

Leo hadn't turned to see the danger but obviously read it on Donnie's face, whirling around to close the portal as soon as they cleared it. Donnie collapsed, hands scraping in his attempt to catch himself on the metal floor.

"sh*t." Leo said, voice rough, and swiftly took a knee beside Donnie. "You okay?"

Donnie heaved for air, limbs pulsing with adrenaline. He looked around, trying to spot any weaknesses. "Is it safe?"

"I don't think there's anywhere around here that's that." Leo said, grim. "But this is mostly enclosed, at least, so he won't spot us right away. Good call."

Donnie flopped back, feeling his heart beat in every inch of his body. The pain had a hysterical edge to it, like it hadn't really happened to him. Some other guy got thudded repeatedly into the rocks. He forced himself to draw air through his nose, slowing the desperate gasps, and looked at his twin through slitted eyes.

"Are you okay?" Donnie asked, because Leo still had that lost-panicked look, fingers fluttering uselessly at his side, mouth parted.

"Am I okay?" Leo repeated, incredulous. "What the hell, Donnie?"

"Ah." Donnie let his head thud back, swallowing his sore throat and finally catching up to what was going on. "So you were trying to die, then."

"What?" Leo said, almost wild with it.

"That's why you're all messed up. Because you were assuming you were going to die but my being here means you suddenly have to try to survive and you weren't ready for it." If Leo had been expecting to come to the other side of portal and survive, he'd have his plan ready. Not this terror-stricken thing crouching beside Donnie looking like the world was ending.

"I -- I literally cannot believe you right now. I -- I am so f*cking angry at you." Leo replied.

"Cool." Donnie shut his eyes, already feeling the dust and grit working their way underneath his lids. "Give me a minute, then we can get back to that."

Leo was still, and after a moment he settled down beside Donnie. Despite apparently being furious with him, Leo reached out and held Donnie's wrist, right over his pulse.

"I'm fine." Donnie reported.

"Do you want to start arguing?" Leo bit back, trembling.

Donnie didn't, so he stopped and let Leo take his pulse. He listened to the atmosphere intently, trying to see if he could catch the moment Kraang Prime discovered their new hiding place. There was only an ominous creaking of the alien ship they were hiding in.

It took a few minutes, but both of their ragged breathing stopped filling the space with intensity. Donnie realized the extent of his pain, as the rattling settled and let him feel his own body beyond a wall of effort, that it was riddled with contusions and bruises, mostly centered on his poor ribs when the claws had pinned him down.

"Thanks for getting my sword." Leo said, eventually. His trembling fingers were curled around the grip, turning the blade to inspect his reflection in it, a flash of steeled eyes.

"I'm always picking up after you." Donnie wheezed, pressing his palm hard against the middle of his plastron like it might help the whole breathing thing.

Leo's gaze went disturbingly blank. Donnie instinctively reached for him, tugging on the ends of his mask tails.

"Hey." Donnie said. "Angry at me?"

"Let's get home first, how about." Leo exhaled through his nose, straightening up and smoothly bringing his sword to stance. The listless sway of the alien ship around them, the only light source from the star through the torn apart hallway further down.

Donnie didn't want to be a defeatist, but he was a realist. And he knew this wasn't going to work. He didn't bother holding his breath as Leo lit up his ninpo, working his jaw and sparking as no portal opened, no flash of blue, just the strain of Leo's strength into a limitless nothing.

"There's a wall." Leo reported, eyes closed, speaking past grit teeth from the corner of his mouth.

"Of course there is." Donnie replied, heavy with the weight of it. He hadn't expected this to be easy. He hadn't really expected anything, other than he wasn't going to let Leo suffer alone. His logical brain hadn't shut off for even a second, he'd been completely aware of what he was doing.

"I'm gonna break through the wall like the Kool Aid Man." Leo replied, something hysterical in his voice that ruined the attempt at humour.

"You're going to hurt yourself." Donnie said, tiredly.

"What?" Leo snapped, swinging the sword back down to his side with an audible slice through the air. "You don't want me to try and get home after our family just lost both of us? What the f*ck, Donnie?"

"Obviously I want to go home." Donnie kept the annoyance out, staying monotone and staring at the wall instead of the torn-apart way Leo was looking at him. "But I can't imagine it's called a prison dimension because it's easy to leave."

"Then let me keep trying." Leo rearranged his stance, setting his feet apart and holding his sword up with both hands. Donnie knew that he'd have better luck banging his own head against the wall, so he kept his peace, watching Leo try and fail to summon a portal out of the prison dimension. Specifically designed to keep people inside of it.

There was a roar and a thunder of vibrations. Leo froze in place, the markings light dying swift. Something was ravaging the outside of the ship, and there was an open cut into the hallway not far from their position.

Silent and careful, Leo put himself between Donnie and the hallway, crouching and staring with deathly intent eyes.

Sore and exhausted, Donnie did the only thing he could. He shrunk behind his brother and reached out to hold his wrist, if only to give himself a moment's notice if he pounced forward towards their enemy.

Leo was barely breathing. Donnie kept his own shallow, listening to the raging beast push closer then further away from their position. Neither of them relaxed, and flinched when Prime swung around again, tearing a small hole directly above them as he moved past.

Donnie waited for them to be caught. The Kraang moved on, a shake of the whole destroyed ship as he launched off. The ringing silence prevailed, a very distant roar.

Neither of them spoke. Waiting. It was probably at least ten minutes before Leo moved from his position, the only feeling of warmth in Donnie's body where his hand was still clutching his wrist. It felt hauntingly cold when his twin pulled away, straightening up and striding down the hallway to inspect.

Watching Leo walk away from him had his barely-slowed heart started up again. He wasn't so stupid as to actually think that Leo was leaving him right now, however the adrenaline in his system said otherwise.

Leo came back a moment later, face shadowed and horrible, and he said before he even got close, "What was the plan, Donnie? Huh? What was the great f*cking plan that you had coming in here?"

"Wow." Donnie replied, sounding the syllable out like he was tasting it, giving Leo an unimpressed look. It must've been safe to talk, if Leo had checked their only exposed exit and saw nothing concerning. "How's the hypocrisy taste, Leon?"

"No, it's not even close to the same." Leo's face twisted, and the desperate anger made him look like a stranger. Leo didn't get pissed off. He would raise an eyebrow, make a bitchy comment, and laugh off whatever was wrong.

"Really? Is that so? Enlighten me. Because I fail to see how your decision is any different than mine." Donnie struggled up, not enjoying arguing while prone, but wincing with pain the moment he tried to leverage an elbow underneath himself.

Immediately Leo flashed with a co*cktail of anger and worry and something darker coated like guilt. The sword was sheathed on his back and he said, "Because I was the jailer dragging my prisoner through the door, there was no reason for you to follow! The deed was done. We won."

Donnie crackled a laugh that was cold and not funny in the slightest.

"Stop!" Leo shouted, clawing at his face with both hands.

"Why?" Donnie shook his head. "Being pissed off at me isn't going to put me on the other side of the portal."

"I just don't understand why you, you who never made a decision you didn't extensively plan with a flow-chart, would do something so f*cking illogical as this? What does it serve other than making our family lose two brothers instead of one?" Leo ranted, steam practically coming out of his ears, pacing back and forth tightly in the cramped alien hallway.

"Come on, Nardo." Donnie's heart raced harder at Leo's fury directed at him than it had from the actual alien monster trying to actively kill him. "What did you always say? We came into this world together --"

"No!" A nasty snarl broke and Leo slammed his hand against the wall, making the whole place shudder. Everything about his posture screamed danger. He was trembling with it. "Not like this."

"I wasn't going to leave you to die alone." Donnie told him, completely unshaken in his decision, even in the face of Leo's true anger. Mostly because he was pretty annoyed too. "And since you'd decided, quite ridiculously I may add, that you were going to die. Then I was coming too."

Leo turned, shaking hand over his face, and said, a little muffled, "I can't believe you. I can't even think. What the f*ck, Donnie? That makes zero sense. Since when do you do things that make zero sense?"

Donnie sighed. Nothing he was going to say would make it better, because in Leo's world the only way this was fine was if he was on this side of portal and Donnie was on the other. Unfortunately for him, that wasn't an option in Donnie's book. Even if it made no sense. Hell, especially if it didn't. All that osmosis from his twin, probably.

An eternity of Leo's shuddering silence. Then he whispered, agonized, "What the hell are we going to do?"

[]

There was a streak of purple in the sky. And Mikey thought -- well, he'd really thought that Donnie was going to swoop in at the last second and the twins were going to prevail and somehow come out on top. There was a reason they weren't allowed to team together in games anymore. The two of them were lethal and showed no mercy, when united they were a force to be reckoned with.

Mikey's heart stuck in his throat and he was so convinced that there was something he was missing -- some secret twin code that said everything was going to work out exactly in their favour, like it always did.

And then the little streak of purple flew directly into the portal. And it closed.

Numbness flooded through his body, head cranked back, staring at where he'd lost his brothers. The aliens were gone and destroyed but this was not a victory. That there was no win that was worth that fact that Donnie had winked out of existence the moment the portal closed. That Leo had dragged a monster set to kill him into a prison and locked the door.

The communicator gave only static. Raph had yelled for Donnie at the last second, when it became clear that Leo having already left the dimension was not going to be a deterrent, but it was too late. The portal was already closing. Both of Mikey's larger than life, untouchable older brothers were gone.

No, Mikey thought as he shook off the numbness and found something trembling and powerful instead, you can't have them. They're mine. They're my big brothers.

And he raised his hands. Clawing at reality, reaching inside himself for that abstract thing called ninpo that Mikey more felt like static electricity, like a snap of citrus gum in his mouth, like nostalgia for something not remembered. Pushing on that well of power, pulling it up and out and yanking at the folds of the universe. He was going to get them back. Even if it took everything he had.

"Mikey..." Raph said, from behind him, voice f*cking wrecked. "They're--"

"No!" Mikey shouted over his shoulder. "I'm not giving up on them."

He thought about what it felt like to be carried in his shell under Leo's arm, what it felt like for Donnie to give him that warm-fond smile reserved for his only little brother, how he felt like they could take over the world when he was little and walked with a hand in each of the twins as he swung them over sewer puddles. And he cracked reality with his bare hands.

"Woah." Raph said, awed and scared and running to meet him. "Keep going, Mike!"

As if he needed the encouragement. As if he was going to stop when they needed him. Two huge hands fell on each shoulder, and the sensation of being tucked into bed with his choice of stuffed animal joined his feelings soup that was fuelling his push. His push and push and push. Mikey screamed with the effort, the force of magic peeling his skin and cracking the flesh painfully. Raph squeezed and together they tried to claw back what was theirs.

Reality wavered and pulled but it did not open. It was right on the edge, the precipice, but there was no release. Mikey pushed harder and felt his physical form wash with an unbearable heat. All the blood left his head at once, sending him spiralling and almost unable to stand. He didn't want to give up. The way the world was going dark on the edges said he might not get a choice.

"Mikey." Raph whispered in his ear, pained.

The crack in reality stayed as it was -- just a crack. They did not have the power to rip it open further. Mikey didn't care, he had the strength, it was somewhere. He just needed to -- he needed to --

Efforts redoubled weakened his knees, and Mikey twisted his hands and watched the burn sizzle with the Staten Island air. The crack widened, just a little, then Mikey --

Agony soaked him, a genuine tortured scream as it surprised him with the intensity. All his efforts faltered, because it hurt so much he couldn't concentrate. And Mikey knew that he had the strength inside him to do this, but it would take everything he had. It would kill him.

"Mikey, please." Raph said, tears dripping on his collar, from where he was still holding on, still trying to help, but it was unclear if he was pleading for Mikey to try harder or for Mikey to stop.

It didn't really matter, because the pain was blinding and the too-hot feeling was rushing back and forth urgently, and it wasn't like he meant to collapse.

But caving to the impulse, Mikey released his fierce grip on reality and let the world go grey, secure in the knowledge that Raph would catch him. He had to stop trying because he couldn't die on Raph and he couldn't save the twins if he died now.

His eyes shut and everything disappeared.

Chapter 2

Chapter Text

"Wiggle your toes." Leo commanded.

Donnie obliged, wincing as one radiated pain. Leo hummed under his breath, and if it wasn't for the truly horrific vibes of this entire situation, all he'd need his med kit and it'd be like any other routine check up after a mission.

But there was no med kit. There was only a grimy destroyed spaceship floor, a terrible chilled draft, and Leo's sword. Donnie had his battle shell, but it was a ninpo construction he'd thrown on for the last battle. And not even to say how banged up it got from being smashed into the ground by the thick, relentless claws.

A shudder ran down his spine. Leo said, business-like, "Cold?"

"Duh." Donnie said, because it was, even if it wasn't the whole story. He knew how his twin operated, and he knew that waiting for the right moment to save Donnie would've been actual hell. He didn't want to even think about what he'd do if it had been Leo in Prime's claws. There was no way he'd be nearly that strategic in the face of Leo in pain.

It made Leo a great leader but it did not save him from the guilt painted all over him. Donnie wondered if he brought it up, if it would start another fight. Neither of them had the energy for it right now, but he hated to think of letting Leo stew in that terrible emotion.

"It was the right choice." Donnie told him, keeping his voice calm and level even as agony shot up his scapula when Leo straightened his arm slowly.

"Not now." Leo said, through his teeth. Testing the bend of Donnie's elbow, firm fingers guiding the smooth motion.

"I am referring to your decision to fall back and retrieve your sword." Donnie clarified, connecting that Leo probably thought he was trying to fight about the jumping into the portal thing again.

Leo froze, something funny crossing his expression. He said, "I know. It was the only way we'd both get away from him."

"Okay." Donnie coaxed, raising a perfect eyebrow.

"Okay?" Leo repeated, lowering Donnie's arm and turning his head away. His jaw worked tightly, and he didn't say anything else.

"If you'd jumped in to help and got your ass beat too, it wouldn't have helped us." Donnie continued, flexing his fingers and feeling the reverb of aches. Nothing that wouldn't heal.

"I know." Leo repeated, rigid. "D, I said not now."

"It's not your fault I am injur--"

"Except it literally is, dude." Leo whirled around, face white, fists tight at his sides. Spitting angry, the barely concealed lid bursting at the slightest poke. "Because you wouldn't even be here if it wasn't for you jumping in for no reason."

"I already told you it wasn't for no reason." Donnie steamed quietly. He tried to appear calm when argued with Leo, because the moment he lost his cool, he'd misstep and lose the fight. Plus it always pissed Leo off more if he was furious and Donnie was inspecting his nail beds as if he had somewhere else to be and get the one-up on him.

"It's a stupid reason." Leo enunciated, face twisted into a snarl, trembling with it.

"Well Nardo, I guess you make me f*cking stupid." Donnie replied, eyes narrowed, exhaling through his nose.

Leo threw his hands up and stalked away, kicking the wall angrily before circling back. He snapped, "I said not now. Give me your other arm."

Donnie gave his other arm. Leo gave it the exact same treatment as the first, even as his chest heaved with unsteady breath. Then he checked Donnie's neck and head, feeling for cuts or cracks, having to crouch close to reach.

The quiet only surrounded by echoing breathing and a yawning expanse. Despite his fury, Leo's hands were incredibly gentle as they set aside his goggles and untied the purple bandana to feel underneath.

Donnie shut his eyes, complete trust. After a moment, Leo shuddered a terrible final breath, release, and tipped his forehead against Donnie's.

"I'm here, Leon." Donnie whispered, not opening his eyes. "You're just going to have to deal with it."

"Not now." Leo repeated, far more broken. "I'm mad at you."

"Shocked gasp. I had no idea."

"Not now, D." Leo said again, the words wavering in a particularly devastating way that made Donnie want to go kill who hurt his twin. Unfortunate, considering.

Donnie sighed, and blindly reached up to clutch the arm still holding his head in place.

He could feel the fine tremor running through. He let them stay like that for a long, aching moment. There were so many things he could say. Why bother with the check up if you don't even have a med kit to help? What's the point in being angry at me when it won't change a thing? How can you say we won when it was going to mean losing you?

Donnie opened his eyes to find Leo had closed his, twitching muscles on his face like he was trying to cobble together a mask to present and hadn't settled yet. Donnie stared at the person he'd happily let the world burn for.

How could it have ever been called victory if Donnie was on one side and Leo the other. They were a pair, do not separate. How could Leo do that to him? Obviously he hadn't expected to live, to survive, and he knew that their situation was bleak. That there was no emergency exit here. It was a prison. They were locked in a prison, and yeah, perhaps Donnie hadn't really a plan beyond 'if this is where you're going, then I'm following'. He was turtle enough to admit that it was a frantic, blind decision made on sheer anticipatory grief alone. He would not lose him.

And yet, Leo almost took the option out of his hands. That he was going to be without Donnie. Maybe he just didn't expect to have to be alive long enough to deal with it. To feel it. But again, again, how could Leo do that to him?

Leo opened his eyes. And there was painted agony, on every inch of his face, shuddering behind walls that were crumbled and lost. Pupils a pinprick of terror. Leo had never looked more scared. His fearless twin, scared out of his mind.

Donnie could be pissed at him later. It wouldn't change anything right now. Leo leapt. Donnie jumped in after him. Now they had to face the chasm together. An unreachable expanse separating them from everyone and everything they ever loved. But God, couldn't Leo see that at least they were together?

Not judging by the way he shook with emotion, the way his fingers clutched Donnie close, the way he opened his mouth and not a single sound passed his lips.

"Breathe, mellizo." Donnie said, just on the wrong side of a beg.

Leo choked and dropped his head to Donnie's shoulder instead, managing a pathetic little gasp. He said, wispy and thin, "Shut up, shut up, shut up."

"Your turn." Donnie squeezed his arm and pushed Leo back so he could get a good look at him. There was a terrible bruise blooming on the side of his face, swelling his cheek and eye. The moment Donnie set his fingertips against it, Leo flinched away, disentangling so sudden there was a vortex of cold between them.

"D-don't bother." Leo stammered, scratching his opposite arm and pushing further back with his heels. "Nothing you can do anyway."

"Scoff." Donnie said, annoyed already. "You get a peace of mind check but I don't?"

Visible hesitation. Leo cut his gaze back, conflicted. He said, "I'm the medic, I'm telling you it's not that bad."

"Then it shouldn't matter if I check." Donnie had spent decades playing the stubborn game with Leo. They were still trying to determine a winner, even after all this time.

"I'm fine, D. You're the one who--" Leo cut himself off, hugging his arms closer. He didn't continue.

"I'm not going to stop bugging you about it until you let me check." Donnie pointed out, because it wasn't like they had anywhere else to go. He picked up his goggles and bandana, tying it back on, leisurely and waiting.

A shuddered breath. Leo said, visibly making an effort to shake his anger and fear, "Fine, do your pointless check. Just don't poke too hard with your robot fingers."

It was a weak tease. Donnie took the olive branch as intended, following the same path Leo took, using him a template. Toes, legs, plastron, shell, neck, and head. A smattering of smaller aliments, but the contusion on his head was the most worrying.

"How can I tell if you have a concussion?" Donnie asked, none of his usual access to Google and only remembering that people died in their sleep from it.

"I don't have a concussion." Leo said, a little long-suffering amused. "I told you I'm fine."

"Objective metrics, Nardo." Donnie snapped his fingers in front of Leo's face. "Hit me with them."

"Are my pupils the same size?" Leo replied, with a little more of his medic-rote in his tone, like reciting from a textbook.

Donnie leaned close, the lighting pretty terrible. But they were equal. "Yes."

"Did I lose consciousness at any point since the head injury?"

"No." Donnie was pretty sure, they'd only been separated for a few minutes and Leo had used that to rescue Donnie from Prime's claws.

"Get my eyes to follow your finger and make sure I track it." Leo told him.

"Leonardo." Donnie said, in a dramatic voice, as if it'd just occurred to him. "Can you follow my finger?"

"Anything for you, Donatello." Leo replied, chuckling, and obligingly let his gaze track his finger as he moved it back and forth. The motion stayed consistent and correct.

"Next?" Donnie asked.

"Well, make sure memory is working, considering I'm the one talking you through a concussion check, that's fine. My vision isn't blurred, doubled, or light sensitive. I think I'm clear."

"I'm the doctor here." Donnie said, putting his hand to his chest.

"Sorry doc." Leo sketched a bigger grin. The shakiness was falling off his figure like ice off a rooftop. "What's the verdict?"

"I think you're clear." Donnie said.

Leo laughed. It crackled and didn't stick but for a moment there was laughter in hell.

They were both shivering after the adrenaline had run its course. Donnie straightened up and followed Leo's instructions to breathe deeply from the bottom of his lungs to try and avoid any complications with his possibly cracked ribs. It hurt. He did it anyway, until Leo was satisfied.

"Don't breathe too shallow. I can't treat your pneumonia here. I know it hurts. I'm sorry." Leo had his fingers on Donnie's plastron, feeling the bones as he inhaled and checking for any punctures.

"It doesn't hurt that bad." Donnie lied through gritted teeth. A cold sweat was prickling his browline.

"I'm sorry." Leo repeated. "Do you mind if I go check out this ship? Maybe there's something useful in here."

"Mind?" Donnie echoed with disbelief. "Uh, yes, I do mind. I'm coming with you."

"You need to rest." Leo told him.

"I'll be fine. We heal quick."

"Not that quick." Leo growled, pushing him back down when Donnie tried to raise. "Listen, dude. We might not get a chance to rest. You should take it while we have it. What if he comes back?"

It was a shame that the thought immediately dropped his stomach through the floor, piercing him with trepidation and dread. He wished he was stronger than that, but he felt a little like a prey animal at the moment -- like it was only a matter of time before the jaws closed around his neck. "If he comes back, then I want to be with you."

Leo's mouth twisted, and he flickered his eyes down the hall. He sighed, and straightened up, offering his hand. "Up and at 'em, then, sunshine."

Despite his words, the idea of standing sucked. Donnie took Leo's hand and stayed exactly where he was, breathing slow and deep through the agony in his ribs.

Leo watched his face, and offered quietly, "You can still change your mind."

That sounded like a challenge. Donnie got to his feet on spite alone, and judging by Leo's expression he knew it and regretted his words.

But there was nothing he could do about it now -- Donnie was on his feet again, for better or for worse. Leo refused to let go of his hand, and led the way down the hall.

Each footstep feet unstable, the destroyed ship they were hiding in a probably death trap. Donnie's numb brain ran useless calculations of the structural integrity, but there wasn't enough data. Plus everything was hazy and soupy, his brain not firing on all cylinders. Somewhere between being flung off the spaceship into Staten Island and being pounded into the rocks by an alien he'd maybe gotten a little worn out.

Donnie stumbled his footwork, and Leo cast a worried eye back.

"I'm fine." Donnie insisted, automatic, trying to collect his numb feet back under himself. It was like all the warmth had left his extremities. Moving around was helping a little, but it wasn't super graceful.

"Right." Leo replied, drawling his sarcasm, but not hiding the blanketed concern. He squeezed Donnie's hand.

Around the corner was a big hole torn facing the map of stars and floating debris. Donnie felt exposed, skin crawling, and hurried around the corner deeper into the abandoned ship.

It was dark without the starlight outside, and wordlessly Leo began to glow his markings. The soft, comforting light of his brother's ninpo in the dark space.

The place was destroyed. Ravaged by claw marks on the walls, half-torn down doors and old charred remains of anything useful. Donnie struggled behind to keep even Leo's sedated pace, clutching his hand like it was the only thing keeping him standing. It might've been.

They plunged further into the darkness, only the soft glow guiding them through. Hallways with off-shooting rooms of destruction, smashed debris in messy piles. There was another hole torn through the wall of a larger area, likely a loading bay, and they avoided that entirely.

"There must be something useful..." Leo muttered, steadfastly guiding them both through the destruction. His head was swivelling, looking intently for something, anything.

Donnie tripped over his own deadened toes again, and said, "I'd be fine with a room with a door, even if it has nothing useful inside it."

"The problem with that is if he finds us, then he'd be blocking our only exit." Leo replied, managing to get the calm strategy back in his voice.

"Room with two doors, then."

They searched a bit longer and the only room with two exits they found was some kind of cleaning area, with sinks and taps and an exit on either side. It had charred pieces of fabric, maybe something that could've been laundry before the ship was torn apart, and a few upended and broken bins.

"Here." Leo lowered Donnie beside the fabric pile. "See if there's anything worthwhile in that. I'll look around."

"Mhm." Donnie said, totally intending to do that, tipping his head back against the wall as soon as he was sitting again. The strain of his muscles and the ache of jostling fresh wounds that he kept any pained sound clamped down with his tongue between his teeth.

Leo checked the doors. It had some kind of electric lock that was long since fried, but at least it shut and kept them properly enclosed. The plus was no exposure to the outside cold -- they could possibly warm up the space with their own body heat. The downside was no light from the outside, only the flicker of Leo's markings as he moved around turning over bins and checking the dry taps.

Donnie didn't light his own, because his ninpo felt fragile and weak. He remembered that his f*cking battle shell was a summoned ninpo construction, and keeping it on was probably draining the sh*t out of him. Hm.

"If there's taps, maybe there's a water storage somewhere in here." Leo said, twisting the rusty-sounding thing over and over with no results.

"Probably frozen." Donnie pointed out, shivering like it was proving his point.

"Which would make it relatively safe to drink." Leo replied.

"Relatively. It's not sterilization."

"Stop arguing with me, we haven't even found the water source yet."

"I can't stop arguing with you, it's the only way to keep you humble."

Leo snorted, finally coming back to Donnie's side and keeping the light source still so he could actually look at the discarded fabric. It was a heavy burlap-feeling, where it wasn't burnt or shredded. The two of them decided on a nest-like configuration with the scraps.

"Do we wanna cut off the burnt parts?" Leo rubbed the soot on his fingers from the charred piece.

"Using your sword?" Donnie said, a little dry, because it wasn't exactly made for precise cuts.

"Construct scissors?" Leo suggested, miming scissors with his two fingers.

Donnie hesitated. But it was going to be brought up at some point. "Mm. I don't actually have a ton of ninpo at the moment. I kind of... used a lot. During the fight and then to get to the portal. My battle shell is actually..."

Leo looked behind Donnie at the black battle shell resting on his shoulders with a look of dawning horror. "Oh. sh*t."

"Yeah." Donnie touched the edge of it, feeling how it wavered. It wasn't permanent. He was in a prison dimension with no stable protection for his shell. He gave up the fight and let it disappear, the weight of sustaining it sinking off. "I don't exactly want to go without, but..."

"sh*t." Leo repeated. "Will you be able to summon another once you're rested enough?"

"Yes." Donnie tried to sound confident. He wasn't really sure, though. He wanted Leo to think he was sure, that it was going to be okay.

Resigned to using the singed fabric, they set up a thick layer between them and the floor. Leo sat with his back against the wall, one hand on his sword beside him and the other patted his legs invitingly.

"Are you sure?" Donnie asked, even though it was a struggle to keep his eyes open.

"I've got you." Leo promised.

Donnie didn't doubt that. He curled up on his side, head on Leo's lap, and let him settle more scratchy burnt burlap overtop his shivering figure.

The sink of relief at being horizontal and able to close his eyes was innumerable. The warmth of his brother, finally chasing away some of the bone-deep chill. The silence was mocking, only echoing creaks of a settling ravaged ship as it floated through endless space. But he could also hear Leo's breathing,

No matter what else happened today, Leo was still breathing.

It should've been impossible to sleep considering the circ*mstances. Donnie had never fallen asleep faster in his life.

The sense of danger seeped into his dreams. A nonsense nightmare with no point other than to seep every inch of him with the feeling that there was danger, he was unsafe, there was danger, danger, danger--

Donnie inhaled, wincing at the pain it brought, feeling that hangover of fear, that wild burst that he needed to be on guard, he needed to do something, he wasn't safe --

"Relax, D." Leo's voice assured him, coming from all sides. He was being leaned over, a hand flat in the middle of his soft shell. "Don't breathe so shallow, I told you."

Never mind. He was safe as houses. The tension leaked from his shoulders and Donnie turned to hug his pillow.

A shocked pause, then a damp laugh. Leo said, "Sleepytello coming in for the cuddles, hey?"

"Everythin' okay?" Donnie muttered, disorientated.

"Oh yeah." Leo scoffed, voice not quite put together, not quite perfect. "We're doing fantastic, D. You keep sleeping."

Thoughts swum in circles, not quite with the program. He opened his eyes, clutching Leo close, trying to figure it out. At the tighter squeeze, Leo curled closer and whispered, "Stop thinking, Tello."

It was Donnie's turn to scoff, blearily. Where were they? It was dark. He was so tired it was thick molasses all around him, slowing the pull of his muscles. And his ribs wheezed with every breath, an agony waiting for each pull of his intercostal muscles. He didn't want to breathe deeper, but Leo asked him to. He breathed deeper and swallowed the noise of pain gathered at the back of his throat.

Something... it wasn't safe, but it was safe because Leo was watching over him. But if Leo was watching over him, then he wasn't asleep either. "Mmm... my turn?"

"Your turn for what, hermano?" Leo said, just a little amused.

"Watch." Because they were somewhere bad. They were in danger. It was dark. It was quiet. Donnie's tired heart stumbled over itself as he remembered through the haze of deep sleep what had happened.

"Shh." Leo stroked his thumb on Donnie's shoulder. "Don't worry about it. I'm fine. You need more rest. You probably can't even tell me the square root of a thousand right now."

"To how many decimals?" Donnie slurred.

"Alright, alright, no need to prove it, I won't know if you're right anyway." Leo gave a short little laugh, leaning somehow closer. "Seriously, D, just close your eyes again."

Donnie tightened his grip, pushing his forehead into the closest part of his brother he couldn't even see. "But you're okay?"

"I'm okay!" Leo whispered in a sing-song.

Well, fine. Donnie shut his eyes again, not loosening the death grip he had wrapped around his twin. Just so he couldn't run off and do anything stupid while Donnie was asleep. That was all.

More sleep. More haze. It felt like flipping head over heels, no sense of where his body was in space. Dunk underwater repeatedly, no idea which way was up. Donnie stayed in that stasis for a while, like he was being tumble dried, and woke when his pillow shifted.

"Mm." Donnie vocalized, annoyed, squeezing him tighter. The familiar shape of his twin, stilling when Donnie moved. When he didn't do anything else, Donnie turned up to squint and look at him, but it was too dark to see.

"What's..." Donnie got with the program much quicker this time. Right. Prison dimension. Camped out in a ransacked laundry room sleeping in a nest of alien burlap. Awesome.

"Sorry, you can keep sleeping." Leo whispered.

No, no, no. He'd slept enough, thanks. How long had it been? How long had Leo been watching? Before he could change his mind, Donnie pushed himself up off his pillow and rubbed his eye with an only slightly shaking hand. A sing of pain from his ribs, but his ninpo was feeling a lot better. Rest was rest, even if his dreams were fraught.

"Urgh." Donnie said, just to voice it, and gently let his ninpo light his purple marks. It cut sharp relief into the darkness, hitting the planes of Leo's face to show a twisted expression that was swiftly tucked away.

"Hi sleepyhead." Leo teased, still that almost normal. Nearly. But Donnie knew better.

"Shut up." Donnie replied, because he was too tired to listen to him lie right now. "I'd ask what time it is, but..."

"It's been a little while." Leo said, easy. "Can I interest you in breakfast? I was thinking of absorbing the moisture from the air."

"Oh, or we could set up outside next to that star and spontaneously learn photosynthesis." Donnie replied, stretching his sore muscles and not able to contain the agonized hiss when it twinged his ribs.

"Careful." Leo's joking tone vanished. "Can I check?"

"Not much to check." Donnie said, but lifted his arms so Leo could prod at his plastron again. He pressed palms over his lungs and had Donnie inhale slow and deep, feeling and listening for anything rattling or crackling.

"Not too bad." Leo allowed, pulling away and lighting his own stripes so the room wasn't just the ominous deep purple. Together midnight colours splashed over the walls. "You should probably rest more, though. It'll help."

"Excuse you." Donnie put his eyebrows to work, giving his most incredulous expression. "It's your turn to sleep."

"Nah." Leo waved a dismissive hand. "I slept while you did. I'm good."

Donnie kept staring at him, disbelief radiating off him. There was no way he'd so casually go to sleep while on watch. Did he think Donnie was stupid?

"And the square root of two is a rational number." Donnie said, thickly sarcastic, amazed that Leo would ever try something so obviously wrong.

"You know me, baby." Leo gave a showman wink. "I'm all about the irrationality."

"I will put you in a sleeper hold." Donnie threatened.

Which was just about as effective as when his twin had hit an insomniac period, to say: not at all. Leo sparkled a laugh and got to his feet. "Come on, D. I could kill for a cup of coffee. Let's see what we can scrounge up."

Donnie thought about arguing, about digging his heels in and truly holding Leo down until he slept. His brother had to be still be battered and exhausted from the day before. But at least being still was rest, and he'd stayed immobile the whole time Donnie had been asleep. It might be the best he could ask for in the moment, with the restless energy running up and down his twin, manifesting in fidgeting fingers and the twitch of his jaw.

No amount of talk ever got Leo to sleep in the past, it sure as hell wasn't going to work now. Donnie just needed to be close enough to catch him when he fell. So he got up too, blindly reaching out for the hand that was already there to help him up. The nest of burlap fell around him, a soiled and sooty smell that clung to his skin even as he moved away.

"What's the plan?" Donnie asked, because Leo had just been left alone with his own thoughts for hours. There was no way he hadn't thought of and discarded at least a hundred plans in that time, likely in between all the cursing Donnie's name for leaping after him in the first place.

"Taps means water." Leo said, full confidence, keeping his grip on Donnie's hand and skating the other on the wall as they moved to the door. His sword was strapped to his back and his soft glowing stripes reminded Donnie of a jellyfish or a cloud of fireflies.

"We searched yesterday and didn't find any water supply." Donnie said, but then immediately began problem solving his own words. "But it probably wouldn't be on the main decks. Depending on the type of ship, it likely relies on some kind of recycling water system for deep space travel. Taps mean water pressure and water pressure means there's a tank. Probably underneath the hull, out of the way. It would affect the weight and balance of the ship, they wouldn't want it near the extremities."

"Wish we could tell which way was up this mess." Leo muttered, but continued on. They followed the line they'd blazed the day before, avoiding the torn holes in the exterior and searching for any kind of access to underneath the hull.

"We've got no idea what's under this rubble." Leo sighed, kicking yet another pile that could be blocking a hatch. "There's got to be a better way down."

Donnie immediately thought of a better way and snorted.

"What?" Leo turned and gave his twin one of his shy smiles.

It lifted Donnie's heart to see it here. He drew Leo's own sword off his back and bonked him gently in the head with the hilt.

"Ah." Leo suffocated on a snicker. "Right. If only we had some way to go through the floor. Duh."

"You'd probably have more than half a brain right now if you'd actually let yourself sleep." Donnie couldn't resist the barb, raising his eyebrow.

Leo took the sword, peeling Donnie's fingers off it. "I told you, I slept like a baby all night long, you don't gotta worry about me."

"Why would you tell me such outrageous lies, right to my face?" Donnie complained.

A dramatic offended gasp, Leo taking back his other hand to press to his chest, as he backed up to approach the piping leading down into the floor from something that had maybe once been a cooking area. "Are you suggesting that me, Hamato Leonardo, would tell a lie? To my own twin brother whom I cherish and adore?"

Donnie crossed his arms over his chest without Leo's hand, hamming up the eyebrows because he was incapable of not playing along with the bit, even when he had his own point to win. "Seems a pretty stupid idea, I agree, since we both know there's no way you'd take a nap while on watch. So why you'd even suggest it really speaks to the level of your exhausted delusion."

"Ah, but even delusions can be true if you believe them hard enough." Leo replied, full of that loud fake confidence as he tugged on the pipes and watched them rattle.

"Actually, I think that's called gaslighting."

"Well. You can be girlboss, then."

"Who's gatekeep? Wait, never mind, I'm still annoyed at you." Donnie stomped over to see what Leo was looking at. The pipes definitely were leading somewhere underneath them.

"When aren't you?" Leo replied with an eye-roll, but it did not hide the fondness. It made Donnie more annoyed.

"Open the portal, dumbass." Donnie told him, aware that Leo had yet again talked himself out of trouble just by going in circles long enough. Stupid that it always worked.

"You got it, jefe." Leo traced a circle with his sword and opened up a yawning mouth lined with flickering blue. Underneath them was a collision of pipes and metal rafters, but beyond there was a riveted flooring.

"Further down." Donnie urged, and Leo bump it to open upside-down into the cramped room underneath. Donnie had a single moment to wonder if he was claustrophobic before jumping inside, stepping away into the tight space to give Leo room to emerge after him.

"Woo." Leo said, and the place smelt dusty and like ancient crusty soot. The roof was brushing their heads. The pipes were slamming in criss-cross lines, all converging on one point.

"Big money, big money, big money." Leo muttered, plucking his way over the obstacles to get close enough to light up the room better. He raised an arm like a flashlight to inspect the thing in front of them, using his stripes.

"Hm." Donnie said, cranking his gaze up. The pipes were disconnected at the top, burst. "I do think it froze."

"That means there's water inside." Leo said.

"Frozen water. Which is called ice, Nardo. How do you expect us to drink it?"

"Dunno. But it's better than an endless void, don't you think?" Leo said, and his voice went a little tight at the end.

Donnie sighed. They were genetically modified supersoldiers but they'd only last so long without water. It was a reasonable first concern. Donnie just wasn't sure how they'd melt it.

"Our bodies don't generate enough heat. The amount of energy it would take to melt the ice would either negate the benefits of the water or throw us into brumation." Donnie said, thinking out loud.

Leo's shoulders sagged a bit. His tone was getting more and more forced. "We could make a fire."

"And how do we avoid the smoke signalling our location? I don't know if you remember but we're currently in the world's worst game of hide and seek."

"I remember." Leo's jaw ticked and he looked away. "Come on, D. You're a scientist. Can you just vibrate the molecules enough or something?"

Donnie opened his mouth to tell him how wrong he was then realized he was right. It transformed into a scowl.

"You've got it. Come on. Hit me with it." Leo crowed, pleased.

"Joule heating." Donnie said, thinking through what he'd need as he considered it. "We'd need something metal, preferably a pot, but anything that can hold the ice as we melt it. I can use my ninpo to generate a low radio frequency alternating electric current and pass it through a constructed conductor, which will produce heat."

Leo had a big grin and slapped Donnie's shoulder. "Whatever you say dude. I'm just so glad you're here."

The words seemed to fill the entire space, ringing back and forth, and Leo's eyes rounded huge and guilty.

Donnie could've said a lot of things to that. Like, yeah you idiot that's why I came or I'd be here even if you didn't need me or I'm glad I'm here too even if it's just to hold your hand when you die.

Instead, he said, "Get your sword out, Leon. It's time to start chopping some ice."

Chapter 3

Chapter Text

It didn't take Leo very long to peel open the tank like a grape with his sword and cut a couple bricks of ice. Donnie carefully picked through the narrow space to see if he could determine the actual exit and found a crushed section that was once the access door. He didn't like that. He didn't like that their only water source was accessible only via portal if something happened. Mikey would've poked his cheek and told him not to be a pessimist for that, but Donnie would argue he was a realist.

And it was funny, because for a moment everything felt very distinctly not real. Mikey wasn't there. Mikey was so f*cking far away from him right now, and Donnie might never see him again. A vice grip of panic surrounded his trachea, stealing his breath from already pained lungs. He was staring at a pile of rubble on a broken spaceship floating through a place that was definitely not named the Vacation Dimension. He was scavenging ice for water so he and his twin could survive. Because they might not survive.

He knew that. But this was the first moment he actually felt it.

A horrible lurch, pulsing through every cell in his body, the physical feeling of dread and fear. The floor dropping out from underneath his feet. Every molecule of dust floating past his eyes felt twenty times larger than life, hyper-realistic, heart thudding and rattling around his already bruised ribcage.

This was actually happening. He was actually here, in this place.

Donnie turned, slow, to look at his twin brother. Leo was glowing soft -- like the streetlights over a graveyard, like the candles on an altar -- as he shook out his fingers to grip his sword and chop another chunk of ice off the block. The flutter of blue mask tails, and the way his eyes flickered to Donnie and automatically offered a reassuring smile.

It was hard enough to realize the severity of his situation. Harder to recognize that meant it was Leo's too.

"What are you thinking?" Leo approached at his left and Donnie jumped a mile, like he'd missed a step.

"Nothing." Donnie replied automatically, practically suffocated by the twine around his windpipe.

Leo leaned into his line of sight, the pinnacle of doubt.

Donnie inhaled and immediately winced, forgetting about his stupid ribs. He said, weaker, "Nothing."

"You're staring at a pile of rubble and breathing like you're running a marathon." Leo pointed out, the bastard. "Which means your brain went about a mile ahead of you. Tell me where it's gone and I'll drag it back."

Donnie was going to repeat himself but Leo reached out and covered his mouth before he could speak, "D, if you say 'nothing' again, I'm gonna hurt you. You're obviously freaking out. Can we at least sit down?"

There was a worried crease in Leo's brow that Donnie really wanted to go away. He also did not want to sit down here, because maybe he was feeling a level of claustrophobia that he hadn't identified until his whole body reaction was not here not here. Something about staring at the collapsed exit knowing he was in a small, cramped space while stuck in a hellish dimension --

"Can we get out of here first?" Donnie vocalized, aware that no amount of beating everyone when they teamed up in charades made Leo was actually capable of reading his mind. He had to use his words. Or whatever communication aides he had.

"sh*t, yeah, come on." Leo tucked his arm around Donnie and summoned a portal without a moment's pause.

"What about the ice?" Donnie asked, weaker.

"I'll go back for it." Leo dismissed, not even a moment of thought on the matter, already urging Donnie into the enticing blue circle he'd created.

Donnie wanted to leave, so he let his twin bring him through, and they skipped over the whole middle of the ship to emerge right back in their little room. Dark but blossoming with the cross-cuts of blue and purple as they entered.

Something about how Donnie's throat felt about ten times smaller, and the flicker as his purple lights faded, standing next to their stupid little nest. As if there were any comforts to have in this cold, dark and empty place. As if they weren't so f*cked.

Donnie knew that. He knew that. He'd known that while drained and hurt yesterday. It was just... something too real about it right now. Too overwhelming.

"Can we sit now?" Leo said, that coaxing charming concerned -- holding Donnie's elbow with fingers still hauntingly cold from the ice. He spoke with a kind of imploring that said it was going to happen even if he'd force the issue. It wouldn't be the first time he'd been wrestled to the ground by his twin 'for his own good'.

When Donnie sat, Leo crouched in front of him and scanned up and down like he was trying to diagnose the issue. Donnie thought instead about how effortlessly they both used 'we' statements whenever they wanted the other to do something -- it really shouldn't have been a surprise to Leo that Donnie had jumped in the portal after him, because they'd been speaking this language of 'if you, then me' for their whole lives. We. Our. Twins, a matching set, a pair, Do Not Separate.

“Hey,” Leo began, that incredibly gentle sweet that was like an echo of their dad when they were sick, a soft hand on their forehead. It maybe would’ve been comforting if it wasn’t for what happened next.

The whole ship rocked with a sudden collision. Leo’s eyes went huge and he extinguished the blue glow like clapping a firefly between two palms. Sudden darkness and a shift of dust as gravity swung back and forth like a pendulum.

Donnie reached out in the dark to find Leo reaching back, clasping forearms tight. Leo leaned even closer and whispered urgently in his ear, “Shell!”

Oh sh*t, right. Donnie had dismissed his battle shell the day before and hadn’t summoned it back yet, his injured ribs enjoying the freedom. No time for that, a whisper of hexagonal purple solidifying overtop his still sensitive shell. That whole 'taking over the Technodrome' thing was still pretty fresh.

Another rocking plagued the ship. Far away, muffled through about six layers, and an unmistakable angry roar.

The sound of it had Leo clutching Donnie’s arms tighter, breath shallow in his ear. Meanwhile Donnie hadn’t actually managed to shake his surprise panic attack and this moment was sort of actively making it worse. Unfortunate.

A whine broke past his defences, just barely a sound at the back of his throat, pure racing fear. He didn't want this to be happening.

"Shh." Leo's return was barely a decibel above audible. It was less like shushing the loud person in the library and more soothing the wounded animal. He squeezed where he was gripping Donnie's forearms like he might disappear.

A thunderous crash. Donnie flinched hard, mind racing. He wasn't sure what was going to happen and it drove him wild. His breathing picked up, shallow and scared, and that whine turned into a whimper at the hot spikes of pain from his injured ribs.

The sound of it had Leo moving. A soft shift of sliding metal then the room was filled with blue as a portal opened beside them.

Donnie didn't take a moment to question his brother's decision, he followed where he was led. They stepped out of their hideout into the open space again, immediately squinting into the brightness after over a day bathed in the dark. But the fear did not abate, because they hadn't gone far. Merely back to where they'd started, the craters of their landing on the surface of debris they stood on.

The portal closed, but Leo was already summoning another, scouting the distance, looking over his shoulder, above their head at the ship.

Donnie didn't want to risk anything and signed with his free hand, pivoting a raised finger in front of him back and forth, desperate. Where?

Leo response was quick, a flat palm flicked outwards from his chest. Away.

It wasn't a great answer. Donnie didn't let go of his hand. He followed him into the next portal, then the next, and the next -- all of it blurring, the stars going streaked pin-pricks, dizzying.

"Stop." Donnie said, after the fifth jump.

"Alright?" Leo asked, lowering his sword, cancelling the portal he'd made.

Donnie shook his head, getting to his knees and hunching over his stomach, fighting the urge to vomit. He didn't have anything in his stomach and he wasn't eager to spit out bile right now. But it was flip-flopping all anxious and disorientated. He was still panicking. It was a cold sweat broken out all over.

Leo tapped a gentle hand on Donnie's arm, waited a moment for any denial, then folded his palm over the chilled skin. He was crouched beside him, sword still out, not looking at Donnie but instead the wreckage filled skyline. There was a tremor in his fingertips. Donnie didn't know if it was from watching his twin panic or from overexerting himself portalling too many times in a row.

"You better not have abandoned our only water source because I was freaking out." Donnie said to the rock before him. There was a growing unignorable thirst that hated the thought of losing that.

"That wasn't my thought process at all, actually." Leo's eyes flickering in circles all around them, not stilling for a moment. They were so exposed out here. All yawning stars and space.

"Explain then." Donnie requested, gulping down air. Not throwing up. Leo holding onto him. f*ck his ribs hurt. He curled an arm around them, like it might help.

"Gotta breathe slower, dude." Leo told him.

Donnie knew that. He hissed back, annoyed, "I will boil your teeth Nardo, I swear to f*ck."

Something about that choked a laugh. Leo squeezed. Donnie finally shuddered through a slower breath, the agony racing through him. The panic was still there, knocking on his door loudly and persistently.

"My thought process," Leo began, louder and with more purpose. That constant attentive watch, head swivelling all around them. Large halls and leagues of echoing nothing, stars and debris. "Was that I'd rather abandon it before he discovered we were there, because that means we could go back. If he caught us hiding there we could never return and yeah, lose our only water source."

"Yeah, but what do we do now?" Donnie said, hating how weak his voice frayed at the end. This was all too much really.

"Can you keep going? I can only do line of sight so I really don't feel like we got far enough away." Leo asked.

"Are we going to hide again?" Donnie asked, because his skin was crawling out here.

"I really want to avoid ducking into a Kraang ship if we can, and that's all I can see right now."

Donnie looked up and found that other than hunks of rock and pink slime, there was little else. It made him shiver. Nothing useful out here. They were going to die. Leo was going to die.

"I can keep going." Donnie said, hearing how unconvincing his voice was even to his own ears. Leo wavered, but the paranoia must've won because he didn't argue. He got Donnie back to his feet and opened another portal. The transition was slower, taking a moment to scout, but they kept jumping.

"You're going to deplete yourself." Donnie said after about a dozen, feeling the shake increase in Leo's grip.

"I want to put as much distance between him and us." Leo replied, grit teeth. "If drains me, so be it."

"He's faster than us." Donnie said quietly. Resigned. "We're never going to outrun him."

"Only if he's chasing us." Leo agreed, grim with him, that determined spark living in his eye. It was good to see. "But he doesn't know where we are and we know where he is, currently. So I'm putting as much space between us so we can relax."

That was a hilarious concept. And not one Donnie believed for a second. "Are you going to sleep this time, then?"

"Of course." Leo said, because he was fundamentally a liar and Donnie knew his neurosis and bullsh*t well enough not to believe him for a second.

It was three more jumps before Leo collapsed to his knees, sword clattering out of his hands. Donnie had been expecting it and caught him, muttering curses under his breath about stupid twins.

"I can keep going." Leo said, voice shaking along with the uncontrollable tremors throughout his body.

"You're actually the dumbest person I've ever met." Donnie said, scathing. "What happened to replenishing your ninpo to attempt a portal home again? Instead you haven't rested at all and overused your ninpo. What's the plan here?"

"The plan is to get you as far away from him as possible." Leo snapped back, always quicker to turn irritable when he was exhausted. And hungry and thirsty and -- urgh.

"Then we've reached the 'as possible' part of your plan." Donnie said. "Unless you'd like me to pick you up and carry you."

"Not with your ribs." Leo replied, sharp-quick, as if Donnie was moments away from hoisting him up onto his back.

"Fabulous. So then you agree that it is now time to rest." Donnie turned to inspect where they'd landed. It wasn't too bad, actually. It appeared to be a chunk of landmass, no vegetation but a dip into a cave system about a hundred meters away. "There."

"Is it safe?" Leo said, struggling to his feet, trying not to lean on Donnie who refused to let go of him despite the drag on his ribs from his weight.

"Is it safe?" Donnie repeated, mocking. "You're right, let me just check the reviews."

"I literally hate you." Leo said.

"I would happily remove your knees with an ice cream scoop."

"Damn, you've got ice cream? You're holding out on me." Leo made it to the mouth of the cave and collapsed unceremoniously inside.

"Move further in, idiot." Donnie poked him with a toe, glancing back. It was barely wide enough to stand. "Do you wanna get seen?"

"One exit only." Leo said, voice wavering.

"Beggars can't be choosers." Donnie physically pushed Leo further in, glancing over his shoulder.

"I hate being a beggar." Leo said, that fracture of tone widening.

"I know." Donnie replied, instead of some smartass thing. He did know. He pushed until they made it out of sight before allowing them to settle down. He put Leo's sword beside them, and kept his battle shell on. The mouth of the cave was impossible to close, so he felt very exposed.

It was funny, because being in the small space underneath the ship gave him a claustrophobic crawl on his skin, but being out here in the open space had the same sensation. He wondered what it meant to be both claustrophobic and agoraphobic before realizing it was more that he was terrified of the Prison Dimension. He was scared of the situation they were in. He was scared that Leo was going to die and he had no way to guarantee their survival. They just had to keep going.

"Are you still panicking?" Leo asked, and he sounded a little far away.

"Me? I never panic." Donnie put a hand to his chest. "I am always as cool as a cucumber."

"I literally hate you." Leo sighed again. "Can you sit on the other side?"

"No." Donnie replied. He was sitting closer to the entrance specifically so that he was the one between Leo and danger while he slept.

Leo shifted uncomfortably. He was trembling from head to toe. He said, weakly, "Please?"

"No." Donnie repeated. "You're sleeping. I'm on watch."

"I'm too strung up to sleep. I'll take first watch."

"You make me so angry. I just slept. You haven't slept since we got here. You're literally falling apart from exhaustion. This isn't insomnia, this is you actively denying what your body needs."

Leo turned and hid his face in Donnie's side. "Fine. I'll sleep."

"I don't believe you for a second."

"You're getting what you want." Leo said, angry. "So shut up."

Donnie's chest popped in hot frustration, because his brother was not going to sleep. He was going to pretend to sleep for long enough then switch. He'd played enough chess with him to recognize his strategy -- it was a calculated give-up that didn't give up anything at all.

Fine. Donnie would just have to make it hard for him to win this stupid battle they were having. The two most stubborn motherf*ckers alive locked in a prison together. He said, "Lay down, then."

A moment of hesitation, then Leo shifted. Legs to the side and pillowing an arm on Donnie's lap. It was cold and dim in the hang of cave rock. Not exactly ideal for the insomniac who required absolutely perfect conditions of warmth and darkness and comforts to sleep.

But Leo must've been holding onto consciousness with his fingernails, with everything they'd gone through in the last couple days. Donnie just needed to push him over the edge. Plus, absolutely nothing was more grounding and distracting from his own panic than taking care of his twin. He tried to settle so he wouldn't squirm in his responsibility as a pillow, and rested his hand on the back of Leo's neck.

His brother shivered and wormed closer. Taking that as permission, Donnie rubbed his neck soothingly, a little secret trick he knew that made Leo relax. The shake reverberating through him was breaking Donnie's heart a little.

"So you know the Richter scale, right?" Donnie said, quietly.

"Yeah?" Leo said, blank, voice echoing off the cave walls in weird patterns from where he was curled up head on Donnie's legs.

"It was invented by this guy, Charles Richter -- actually, two guys. Beno Gutenberg was the other, but he didn't want to be named. Richter was a scientist, chose the term 'magnitude' because of his previous interest in astronomy -- always a thing with science fields, the cross-borrowing of terms. It's called polysemy -- the words might have different definitions depending on the field."

"What does this have to do with the Richter scale?" Leo asked, voice slurred and tired.

Donnie nodded. "Right, I was going to tell you that the inventor of the Richter scale was an avid nudist."

"Oh my God." Leo mumbled, bubbling with sleepy laughter, turning to muffle it into his elbow.

Donnie kept talking, because it didn't matter what he said, just as long as his voice was filling the cave. "But hey, since you're my captive audience. The Earth has four layers, the inner core, the outer core, the mantle, and the crust. In the lithosphere, which is...."

He explained the concept of tectonic plates, of fault lines, of seismic waves, the determination of an epicenter, and the displacement of seabed causing tsunamis. It was easy to describe something that was so far away from anything they needed to be worried about in this moment, and the info-dump successfully pulled Donnie from his own panicking head, and even better -- successfully lulled his twin brother to sleep.

Leo was a master actor, even in something like pretending to sleep. However Donnie could tell, because Donnie could always tell, especially if he was holding Leo. It was just something about how Leo would hide his face, then relax, all the tension falling from his mouth. When he pretended to sleep he laid perfectly still, but Actually Asleep Leo would tug Donnie closer, would snuffle a little and sometimes even grind his teeth. It was a terrible sound, but Donnie at least knew he wasn't faking.

The one-sided conversation stopped once he was sure. Then Donnie found out that while he would never in a million years wake his brother now that he was asleep, he was left to suffer with the agony of being alone.

He wasn't alone. Leo was right there. He could wake him up. But Donnie's mind caught up to him again, pulling out the club it was gleefully beating him with, and reminded him that they were going to die.

The same anticipatory grief that drove Donnie to leap into the portal had him carefully curling closer to his twin, so unspeakably terrified that he was going to lose him, that they were going to be pulled apart -- that Leo would fall asleep in here and never wake up.

Donnie wanted to believe that it would be okay, that the two of them could do anything they put their minds to. But that was just the problem: he was scared that Leo was going to be a stupid f*cking idiot and try to put Donnie before himself. That he wouldn't be trying just as hard to get out as him. And Donnie didn't know how to stop him, because no matter how hard he felt like he was out-maneuvering Leo, there was always something he'd missed. The consistent reason that he'd always lost to him in chess -- Leo was thinking two moves further than him at all times.

Far away, there was a crack and shift and tumble of rock. Donnie froze, every muscle tense, listening as intently as he could for further noise. The problem became the silence reverberating of the endless space was not louder than Donnie's own heartbeat slamming repeatedly against his sore ribs.

It wasn't even being found -- it was that Leo had been asleep for maybe an hour, and if he woke up now there was no chance Donnie was going to get him to stand still long enough to fall asleep again. Donnie cursed in his head, repeated, almost desperate. He curled closer to Leo, as if it might protect them, as if it might hide them better than crawling into a stupid little cave. He was careful not to make any sounds of distress -- not only because he didn't want to be caught, but because he wouldn't put it past Leo to wake at even the slightest noise from Donnie's throat.

Slower breathing. Nothing happened. Alone, with the sleep-warm skin of Leo against him, the shiver still running up his limbs at the freezing atmosphere. It was only a mystical level of exhaustion that could have him sleeping in these conditions. Breath fluttering out, a little scrunch between his brow. Bad dreams.

Donnie hadn't moved his hand off his neck, so he resumed the gentle soothe, half an ear out listening. No other sound. It must've just been the rock settling.

Or it was the Kraang, waiting for Donnie to drop his guard to strike. The paranoia crawled, but he tried hard to be rational. Prime was a show-boat, he wanted to be seen and heard. If he was here, there would be so much more angry yelling.

Maybe it was something else?

Donnie felt exposed multiplied by a thousand at the thought, skin erupting in fire ants, glancing with round eyes at the entrance to their hide out. There were more Kraang, wasn't there? It wasn't just Prime.

The daunting unknown remained shadowed. Nothing jumped out from the darkness and attacked. It was just Donnie and his thoughts, sprinting in circles around him, anxious and strung up and scared. He wanted Leo to sleep. He wanted Leo to wake up and make it so he wasn't alone.

Leo shifted with a throaty sigh, leaning into Donnie's touch. Heavy weight on his lap. So f*cking vulnerable and Donnie was responsible for watching out for him and it was terrifying. What if the danger was there and he didn't notice? What if something crawled in the cave during a moment of inattention and was waiting to strike?

Donnie stayed tense, but nothing happened. Still alone. Still cold, shivering himself even with Leo close. No burlap nest to protect them and the cave barely cut the cold. Leo rolled again, the horrid noise of the scraping enamel as his brother ground his teeth together in his sleep. It ran a sensory nightmare like shooting an arrow directly up his spine, and nothing to distract from the terrible sound. There was no way he was about to wake Leo up to make him stop.

Every single time Donnie heard the grinding before, how painfully loud the drag was like a stone pestle, he couldn't believe it didn't hurt like hell. Leo claimed he didn't even know he did it. Or maybe it did hurt and Leo just didn't tell him. Impossible to say, at this point. Impossible to say, at most points.

He remembered he was supposed to not breathe shallow and spent a while doing practiced breaths from the bottom of his lungs, biting back the pain it invoked. f*cking sh*t, how did Leo lay awake the whole night with only his thoughts? This was the real torture. This was hell.

Leo stopped grinding his teeth eventually and shifted to the left. There was something tucked into his belt.

Donnie stared, vaguely recognizing it as a worn photograph. Careful not to move too fast, he reached forward and tugged it free. It unfurled on the side with a drawing of that stupid key, barely visible in the dim light. Then Donnie turned it over.

As if he'd been punched hard in the middle of his chest. His family looked up at him, smiling. One of Raph's hands was on photograph-Donnie's shoulder and for a second, it was as if he could feel the weight of it.

Left alone only with the consequences of his actions, Donnie remembered what Leo had screamed at him the day before. That he'd made it so their family had lost two brothers instead of one. And while he couldn't bring himself to regret coming here -- the thought of what would've happened if Donnie hadn't come was too awful to bear -- he did at least have a yawning expanse of ... some emotion. Swallowing him up whole, when he thought about leaving his family behind.

Ah. Donnie thought, having to quickly move the photograph to avoid the flood of tears beginning to fall. Sad. That emotion is sad.

Dehydration was going to be a serious issue and there wasn't the water to waste crying over his own decisions. Ones that he wouldn't take back, even given the chance, even knowing what it was going to cost him. As much as it sucked, Raph and Mikey still had each other, and April, and Dad.

Donnie didn't want to give them up. In any other situation he would have to be pried away from his family with a crowbar. But this wasn't any other situation, because there wasn't anything he wouldn't do for Leo. Including this. What was that meme? I'd follow him to hell, I just wish he'd stop going there.

Sigh. He didn't have the tears to spare. But he couldn't make them stop.

Chapter 4

Chapter Text

It hadn't been nearly long enough when Leo woke. Four, maybe five hours. Until he tensed in Donnie's grip, going completely still -- not even breathing.

Donnie's hand had remained folded over the back of his neck, just close enough to his throat that he could feel the way his pulse began to pick up, racing out of sleep at top speed.

"Stop freaking out." Donnie whispered.

Leo finally inhaled. He slurred, half-asleep, "I'm not freaking out."

"Go back to sleep." Donnie said, knowing it was a pretty big ask.

"Mmm." Leo went boneless again, turning to nuzzle into Donnie's palm, eyes shut. His breath came in perfect, even pants. His pulse under Donnie's fingertips tripped over itself, hasty and fast. He was faking.

Donnie let him, stroking the back of his neck with his thumb, aware the same trick wouldn't work twice. He was just kind of hoping maybe the mystic exhaustion might drag his twin back under, if only Donnie kept him prone with his eyes closed long enough.

Leo pretended to be asleep for a while. Donnie held him, the experience much different than earlier -- as painful as it was to think Leo wasn't getting enough rest, he absorbed the silent presence of his twin greedily. He wasn't alone. Leo was right there, breathing in a predictable cycle. He didn't call him out on the lie. He relished in it, guilty.

He kept hoping that maybe Leo's rabbit pulse would settle down underneath his fingers, but it didn't. It was such a contrast to the faked peaceful face below him, the creases gone and certainly no horrific teeth grinding.

Donnie would've maybe been content to stay in this fiction, if it weren't for the fact that Leo was obviously working himself up underneath the guise of faked sleep. Getting Leo to 'rouse' was as simple as beginning to shift minutely, as if he were just a little bit uncomfortable and stiff, then Leo 'woke up' and opened his eyes, lashes sticky with sleep.

"How's your ribs?" Leo asked, voice a rasp.

Donnie had been gifted nothing but time to think of every agonized inhale. The sh*tty part about a rib injury was that there was no way to avoid the pain -- every breath was fire and he needed to breathe. The instinct to breathe low and painless was overridden by Leo's chiding voice replaying in his mind of shallow breathing causing pneumonia.

The last thing Donnie wanted right now was to be more of a problem for Leo to deal with. He'd breathed deep and endured. He said, out loud, "Managing."

"Any fluid?"

Donnie shook his head. Leo shifted up and away, leaving a haunting cold where he'd managed to get a little bit of heat on Donnie's legs. He rubbed both eyes, still looking exhausted.

"How's your ninpo?" Donnie turned the questioning around on him, knowing that his brother had made more portals in the last forty-eight hours than he had in the last forty-eight days.

The grimace on Leo's face spoke multitudes. "It's... a work in progress."

"You should rest more, to get it back up." Donnie advised, with absolutely zero hope he would listen. However, "I thought you wanted to try to portal home again."

Leo hesitated, hand on his sword, and he slowly picked it up to inspect his face in the flash of the blade in low light. "I do. It just felt... locked. And I'm concerned if I try too hard and use all my power, then I wouldn't be able to portal us away if we need."

A cold denial rolled like ice cubes in a blender. Donnie said, "How are we going to get home, then?"

The replying silence was long and telling.

Donnie knew they were screwed, but he hadn't realized Leo had no plan at all. Or at least, that he hadn't come up with something after his night on watch. He knew that Leo would've sat there the whole night thinking -- it was certainly what Donnie had done.

"You didn't think I'd have the power to break through either." Leo said, a little sharp, a little tired.

"I thought you were going to break through the wall like Kool Aid Man." Donnie replied, just the wrong side of mocking.

Leo stood up, legs trembling with effort, and walked down the length of the cave. His hand scraped the wall, head ducked from the short height at the slope. He traced the perimeter and came back, looking out the mouth of the cave.

"I don't know what the right move is." Leo said. "But I can tell that the wrong move would be to debilitate our biggest asset in a Hail Mary that neither of us actually thinks is going to work. I... I don't have enough power to break through the wall, whether or not if it's even possible. We need to re-evaluate."

"To what?" Donnie said, because he was facing the gaping expanse of their future and he didn't like what he could see.

Leo didn't look at him, still staring out the mouth of the cave. A hard set to his jaw. "You weren't supposed to be here."

A red-hot flare of frustration. Fine. Arguing about this again? Donnie wanted to do it on his feet. He wrenched up, fingernails scraping the hard unforgiving wall, and a punch of pain just barely broke a whine in the base of his throat. Leo's head didn't move but his eyes snapped over.

Donnie met his gaze fiercely, clutching his side as if it might help the way his ribs ground together when he stood. He said, drawled out and angry, "I know you came in here expecting to die. I'm sorry I screwed that plan up for you, except news flash, I'm not sorry at all. It was a stupid plan and now you've gotta come up with a new plan. One that gets us both out."

Leo stared at him, then cut his gaze away. He exhaled, loud and annoyed. "Don't ask me, I'm not the smart twin."

"Scoff." Donnie said, loud and scathing and echoing in the small dark space. "Shut the f*ck up Nardo, you are literally a chess grandmaster, you don't get to pretend you're not smart."

A vivid memory, so close he could reach out and touch it -- sitting crossed legged on a pillow, biting his thumbnail, glaring at the smug face of his twin as he danced his knight around the chessboard and announced on each turn, "Check. Check. Check."

"Leo, stop toying with him." Raph had said, from the other side of the room, gruffly amused.

"Oh, but it's so much fun." Leo had said, chewing on a grin. "Checkmate."

The feeling of it dissolved, leaving the dark expression on Leo's face standing before him, hand clenched around his sword at his side. "There's no way out of here. That's exactly why I dragged him in. And why you were supposed to be safe, on the other side."

"But I'm not." Donnie said, slowly, dragging it out. He'd never beat Leo at chess, but this was a game he was determined to win.

"But you're not." Leo agreed, in a voice that sounded nothing like agreement. "Fine. You want my plan? We need to stay alive. That means water, before we're too dehydrated to get it. So I will go fetch the ice, and you will construct something with your ninpo to generate Joule heating. Are you replenished enough right now to do that?"

Donnie didn't even have a moment to be impressed that Leo had been listening attentively enough to remember the name of the process, he was far too focused on the beginning of that statement. He made a big X with both arms and went. "Nope. That's not the plan, Leon. You are not going to fetch the ice by yourself, are you stupid?"

"Am I smart or not? Make up your mind." Leo said, pretending to be dry. "It's tactical. He might still be at the ship."

"Why does that entail going there by yourself? How the hell is that tactical?" Donnie spat back, the race of fear shot directly through him, his heart skipping a beat.

"Because it's not safe, both of us shouldn't go back if he could be there." Leo said, injecting sensibility and calm into a completely nonsensical logic. "I'll go look, I'll get the ice, and I'll be back."

"No." Donnie said, flabbergasted. "Absolutely not, what if he is there? You're going to take him on by yourself?"

"I'll just portal away." Leo dismissed, not even pausing. "We can't get caught there, he can't know the location is important to us. But we need the water."

"I'm coming with you."

"No, you're not." Leo said, tense, jaw working. "I'm going to get water and bring it to you."

"No, you're not." Donnie repeated, louder, like raising his volume would gain him ground in this fight.

Leo smiled. And Donnie had a wash of premonition, call it pattern recognition, call it twin sense, but he knew the words before they came out of Leo's horrible mouth: "How are you going to stop me?"

Donnie was lurching forward, but it was too late, the portal appeared with a flash of Leo's ninpo and swallowed him whole, leaving Donnie to close his hands on empty air. He shouldered into the opposite wall, a noise of fear and distress and a ricochet of pain.

For a moment, Donnie stayed immobile, still in disbelief. Blinking at the empty cave as if Leo might appear again, come back and change his mind from --

This time, Donnie was actually alone. The claws of terror closed around his throat, throwing wild eyes around the small space. He lit his purple marks bright, obliterating any shadows in a bathe of his favourite colour, like a sick version of the track lights he'd lined his bedroom with.

Ragged breathing. Donnie didn't know what to do. Leo was -- he'd just left. And now Donnie had no way to know if he was okay, if he'd just walked into his death again. There was nothing he could do but wait.

Not a huge fan of waiting. Especially when the situation blew on the sparks of his panic and erupted it back into a bonfire. A ravishing sensation, turning his knees to jello, sliding down the wall on the other side, staring at the entrance to his stupid cave (his tomb) and praying that this wouldn't be the moment he was found by Prime.

The purple glow hummed. Donnie sucked in breath after breath, the raced agony from his ribs, and he thought. Actually, f*ck this.

Donnie crossed his legs and folded his hands together. He let the purple soften. He counted tactical breathing, like a sniper -- inhale for four, hold for four, exhale for four, hold for four. He couldn't be caught lacking. He was alone. He needed to be in full capacity. He needed to stay alive until Leo got back, because Leo was coming back. And if Prime showed up between now and then, Donnie would kick his f*cking ass.

Maybe. Probably. No -- Donnie was a badass motherf*cker and he should be feared. Or at least he'd put up a damn good fight.

There was a writhing feeling inside him at Leo vanishing in the wink of a portal -- the sheer helplessness, the frustration and above all the anger. The wobbling between body and mind, the back and forth he always struggled to keep up with.

Alone. He was alone. No, it was fine. Leo was coming back. And Donnie could kill him for leaving.

Donnie had absolutely no idea how long it was before Leo reappeared, only that he was ready. There was a flash of blue, appearing in the same molecule of space that he'd left, arms full.

Two blocks of ice, a dusty metal pot, and his sword hanging from his fingers.

The moment he set eyes on his twin again, every inch of Donnie's carefully pulled-together calm vanished. It burnt up, dissolving into that fury. He snarled, burst with it, "How dare you."

"Hi Donnie." Leo said, unregretful. "He wasn't there. Bee-tee-dubs."

Donnie wanted to f*cking rattle him. He pushed up and the noise of pain was shrouded in his snarl, charging his brother like he might just hurt him.

"Woah, okay, relax." Leo backpedalled, juggling his arms full, a flash of real panic in his eyes that was smothered quickly. "It's chill. Prommy."

His twin was only attempting every single disarming trick he had under his sleeve because Donnie was positively seething. "Don't start the gaslighting bullsh*t right now or I will girlboss you into the f*cking sun, Leon."

"Not trying to." Leo carefully set down his spoils, so he could raise his hands in surrender, eyes wide and innocent.

"Shut up." Unfortunately for Leo, now that his hands were free of the water they desperately needed, Donnie was free to give him a solid push in the middle of his plastron and send him stumbling backwards into the cave wall. "What the f*ck is your problem? Huh?"

"I came back. I told you I was coming back." Leo said, swallowing, hands still up, watching Donnie with visible nerves.

"You left me here alone." Donnie couldn't breathe, like there was a metal band around his chest, getting close enough to push Leo again, rebounding him against the wall.

Leo steadied himself, not fighting back, and set his jaw grimly when he said, "It was for your own good."

Donnie screamed in his face, loud and inarticulate, and turned on his heel to storm away before he did something stupid like actually hit him. His body felt like a livewire, sparking and afraid, so goddamn afraid. He practically gasped for air, the whistle of it through his pained ribs.

"Breathe, D." Leo said, distant, like he was hearing it through a cardboard tube.

"f*ck you." Donnie snapped back, catching on the end of a desperate inhale.

A small sigh returned. That claustrophobic feeling, because Donnie wanted to storm away, to leave this small trapped little cavern, but it wasn't any better out there. The crawling ant feeling of being exposed.

And, of course, he didn't want to be alone, even if being here meant being with the exact same person who was making him so angry.

There were a distinct lack of apologies from his brother, the too-wide eyes framed in blue and red, a familiar sight. Leo was trying to win and Donnie wasn't going to give him any f*cking ground.

"Tello --" Leo began.

"Don't f*cking talk to me right now." Donnie snarled, because if he couldn't leave, then he seriously needed Leo to shut up or he was going to give into the Cain instinct.

Leo's mouth snapped shut. His shoulders hunched and hands pulled into his plastron, curling closer to the wall and stepping away.

Donnie stormed right past him, snatching up the spoils. The pot was good, it was a metal alloy and only a little dented. He sat cross-legged on the floor, running through his brain what components he would need to summon. An alternating electrical current through a conductor, taking advantage of Ohm's Law. The current was going to have to be his ninpo, obviously, and the manufactured element would have contact with the metal alloy of the pot to heat the ice.

It was stupid to put the whole block in at once, so Donnie extended his hand towards Leo, not looking over when he said, "Give me your sword."

Hesitation. Leo didn't move.

Donnie cut his gaze over, still furious, and commanded, "Give it to me."

Leo grabbed his sword and flipped it in his palm to hold by the blade and offer Donnie the hilt. He was pale with a wobbling smile that couldn't quite stay on his lips, a slipping facade.

Donnie didn't have time to feel the way his heart wrung like a wet towel at the sight. He snatched up the sword and hacked the block down into a smaller chunk to start, placing it in the bottom of the pot. He let his ninpo crackle at his fingertips in purple sparks, summoning a small construct modelled after a camping stove, if a camping stove was powered with induction heating instead of propane.

The pot settled on the conjured element and Donnie pumped the system with alternating current via ninpo. It took a bit of focus to get the output right, watching the way the ice began to slide around the bottom of the pot and form a shallow pool of water. Blessed water. He was so thirsty.

Donnie waited for the block to melt completely, leaving a thin layer, then he added another chunk. Steam meant it was boiling, so hopefully it would kill any lurking space parasites. Obviously they weren't in a vacuum of space, or else they'd be very dead long before now, so that meant there could still be microorganisms living in the ice.

He worked silently, the anger sitting in his throat, a little choking and hot and overwhelming. He was thinking about how paying the ransom of someone being held hostage encouraged it to happen again.

The blocks of ice made an almost full pot. Donnie let it boil for three minutes at least, hoping it would help sterilize the pot as well. Then he stopped the flow of ninpo and let the heat off. The little cave was warmer, though the heat was escaping out the open mouth with no way to contain it.

He vanished the conjured stove. He set the pot down to cool and backed up to press himself against the opposite wall to Leo, facing the entrance instead of his brother and wheezing through some breaths. The drain of ninpo was a bit like running a marathon. He could do it, but he was tired. It didn't help that he still had his conjured battle shell, in no way comfortable enough to take it off at the moment.

Silence, beyond their breathing. Neither of them looking at each other. Donnie was annoyed when he noticed he'd synced up to Leo's cyclic inhale-exhale without even realizing.

The steam stopped billowing off the top of the pot, as the environment cooled the water enough for drinking.

Leo cleared his throat, a fragile web of nerves overtop his otherwise normal voice, "You go first, Tello."

Donnie flexed his fingers, the sizzle of rage not abated in the slightest. He said, through gritted teeth, "If you want to make it up to me, Nardo, you will drink the f*cking water."

The nickname was his only give in the fight, from how the sight of Leo wavering in the face of his anger was affecting him. He didn't want to make Leo look like that, even though it was his twin's own fault. He knew that Leo was entirely sustained on love to function and it was not ideal that the only person he had was pissed at him. Plus if Donnie made him cry he might just have to throw himself into the void in penance. Even if Leo deserved it right now.

"Alright. Alright." Leo shuffled forward, picking up the pot and gently tipping the lip to his mouth. It wasn't the most ideal drinking cup, but it got real water into his system for the first time in days. Donnie knew exactly how thirsty he felt -- the tacky substance to his saliva, the pulsing hot dehydration headache that was set aside for other more pressing miseries, and the grinding churn of his stomach -- so Leo couldn't have felt much better either. The slider sipped slow and careful, taking his time.

"Donnie--" Leo began, looking up.

"Keep drinking." Donnie said, not giving an inch. He knew what he was doing.

An audible sigh. Leo drank until it was half empty from the starting point, bringing it over to Donnie. He held it out and said, "Okay, I had my share. Please drink yours now."

"Nope." Donnie replied.

Leo stared at the side of his face, that terrible wavering coming back in full force. "What?"

"I'm not having it." Donnie stated plainly, crossing his arms over his plastron and pushing against the pain in his stomach. He definitely wanted it. But he had a point to make.

"What do you mean, you're not?" Leo said, coloured just the wrong side of helpless.

"I'm not drinking any water that you fetched by leaving me behind." Donnie told him, cutting his furious gaze over and letting Leo feel the full force of it.

Judging by the flinch, he did. "Donnie, please. You have to drink, your body needs it. I won't do it again, okay?"

"You're right, you won't do it again, because I'm not drinking this water." Donnie kept his look flinty and cool. He was not paying the ransom.

This was dangerously getting into the 'making Leo cry' camp, judging by the wet shine on his eyes. "You have to."

Donnie took probably a bit too much sick glee in spreading his lips over teeth as he said, "How are you going to make me?"

[]

Raph held onto both of Mikey's shoulders as he pushed and pushed. And watched as Mikey tore himself apart. Sobbing with his whole body, Mikey clawed at reality, trying to tear it open. The fissures breaking through, almost splitting, almost ripping the fabric of the universe just to get their brothers back.

But you know what they say about horseshoes and hand grenades.

At the point where Mikey's face drained of blood, that his eyes fluttered and his legs fell out from underneath him -- Raph thought -- well.

He thought for a second that he'd really lost all of them.

It wasn't as if Raph blamed Donnie. If he could fly, then he would've been right there beside him. And it wasn't as if he didn't understand the functional logic behind Leo's decision, even if he disagreed with the fundamental premise that Leo could only be a hero if he was, essentially, dead. And it wasn't like he was angry at Mikey for trying to save them, for pushing himself to the point of collapse just for one last gasp attempt to get them back.

But ten minutes ago Raph had three brothers and now he was the last left standing. And he... he just couldn't believe it.

For whatever hysterical reason, as Raph scooped up his baby brother and cradled him to his chest, trying to check his pulse with trembling inexperienced fingers, he could only think about being a child. When he would blaze a path, and the three would toddle behind him, giggling. And Splinter had smiled at him, cradling his face and said, "My lovely red, you have been gifted with three little brothers who trust you and look up to you. I know you will do such a good job looking out for them."

"I will." Raph agreed, chin up, proud. He was their big brother, brother who was the biggest, and he wanted to protect them -- to tuck a scared Mikey close, to cushion Donnie's shell, to tickle Leo until he smiled big and real. It was a promise easily made and hard-kept.

There was a point where Splinter grew more self-aware, and asked Raph quietly as they watched the three pushing each other off a skate-ramp, "Did I put too much on your shoulders?"

Probably. But. "I wouldn't have them anywhere else."

Even as Mikey's pulse stuttered against his fingertips, limp and crackling with excess mystic energy, Raph thought, over and over like a death toll, how was he supposed to tell Dad he had failed to protect them?

"Boys?" Splinter's voice came over the comm, distant, maybe he'd been asking for a while.

Raph clutched Mikey closer, not even realizing he'd been leaking tears over him as he held him, having fallen to his knees.

"Dad." Raph said, voice not coming out right, raising his arm to speak. "Are you and April okay?"

"We are fine." Splinter's voice wooshed. "Tell me, are they both..."

Raph shut his eyes, misery washing over him. The sight of purple streaking into the portal. Leo's voice begging Casey to close it. Splinter knew that much, at least. The word cracked down the middle when he said, "Yeah."

A shuddering breath. But Raph had more bad news. He pushed on, "Mikey tried to ... pull them back. And it didn't work. He's... he needs help."

"Tell me where you are." Splinter replied, immediate.

Raph told him. And stayed exactly where he was, holding the only brother he had left, desperate fingers not leaving his pulse for a second.

April appeared in his line of sight, like a skip in the record. Her entire expression was grim, and she tugged him to move. He moved. He carried Mikey to the vehicle they'd procured and he felt this numb horror that enveloped every inch of him. Mikey was so limp. There was a gaping hole in his heart where little brothers should be.

April drove. Casey inspected the wounds on Mikey, humming and clucking under his breath.

Splinter crawled over the divider to hug Raph.

"Pops." Raph said, rough, immediately pushing him away before he could even think about it. "No, don't. I lost them. I lost all of them."

"My lovely red." Splinter forced him to meet his eye, and he looked f*cking wrecked. "Can you please let me enjoy for a moment the child that I can hold?"

"Oh." Raph's mouth wobbled, and he hugged his dad.

There was a crackle in his chest, a rapid unravelling. He couldn't believe, he was just entrenched in this relentless shock. That they were gone, and Mikey was pale and lifeless, and here was his father that he promised he would take care of them. And now what happened?

"I've got you." Splinter muttered, clutching Raph around the head.

"I'm sorry." Raph said, broken, fractured. "I'm sorry, Pops, I'm so sorry. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"Shh." Splinter tried, but it couldn't be contained, the endless fountain of apologies poured from Raph's mouth. There was nothing else he could possibly say.

Raph's throat sewed itself closed when it became clear that the apologies would not be enough. His brothers would still be injured and missing.

Missing. Gone. A void, a distinct lack of sarcasm and wit filling the space with banter. Raph was silent as a grave when they arrived back home, carrying his little brother, brother who was the littlest, into the med bay. Casey took over like a whirlwind, immediately moving around the organization system like he knew exactly where everything was.

Raph didn't put Mikey down. He sat on the bed with Mikey cradled in his lap, forcing Casey to work around him. His orange mask gently untied and set aside, an IV put into his elbow, the crackles up his arms inspected with narrowed eyes.

"What did you two do?" Splinter breathed, eyes round. He was sentinel at their side, unmoving. Casey danced around him too, like he was used to the obstacles to care.

It was only when Splinter reached out and brushed Raph's arms did he realize his own were fractured and burning. Hot, like split skin, bloated with blood underneath the surface pushing up. He hadn't even registered the physical pain because there was far too much mental pain to even cope with something as meaningless as the cracks in his skin.

"That's Draxum's domain." Casey announced, looking at the crackles on Mikey's arm. "Can we get him here?"

"I can." Splinter said, grim.

"Okay. Fast is best." Casey told him.

Splinter swallowed, nodding firmly, and left in a sweep of his robes.

April touched Raph's arm, having taken the spot his father had vacated. "You can put him down, big guy."

Raph shook his head. No. He couldn't.

"Can we take a look at you?" April implored, undeniably worried. The furrow in her brow, the flash of her lenses dirtied from the fight.

Raph shook his head again. When he curved around Mikey, he felt so small. He could throw a skyscraper and he could fit perfectly in Raph's arms.

"Raphael." Casey said, putting on a little stern tone. "Both of your wounds need sterilizing, unless you want an infection on top of everything. You can set Mikey down, I'll clean him up. April will help you with yours."

Perhaps if it hadn't been phrased as a direct order. But Raph put Mikey down and let Casey take care of him so he wouldn't get an infection.

April pulled him aside. Raph was generally unhelpful, because he couldn't move, he couldn't speak, he just stared at Mikey as Casey cleaned his wounds with clinical, brisk hands. As he set up monitors and hunted through Leo's perfectly stocked supply cabinets.

He didn't feel the sting of April working on his hands. There was no room left in his brain. Every moment he remembered, over and over, what had just happened. And every moment, it was this endless repetition.

I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I should have carried you higher on my shoulders. I should have loved you better. I should have protected you. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I'm so f*cking sorry.

The apologies didn't change a thing, but he couldn't stop making them.

Chapter 5

Chapter Text

Donnie tipped his head back against the wall, breathing slowly and evenly, hands slung between his legs. His throat was dry, not a drop of water having passed his lips in days. There was a drag of pain on each inhale, tugging on his ribs with each movement.

Leo was still on the other side of the cave, his eyes hadn't left Donnie's figure, jaw working angrily. He'd shaken off the misery and left with a frustrated upset. The stubborn twins framing either side, both of them pissed at the other, a half-full pot of water like a bomb between them.

"Have you completely lost your mind?" Leo demanded, breaking the silence like shattering glass.

"What is the goal of your statement?" Donnie asked, cool, calculating. It seemed a little weak of a logical argument for Leo, who could legitimately talk a man into selling him his shoes.

"I think the goal is pretty obvious, dude." Leo hands were clenching and closing at his sides. "I want you to drink the f*cking water."

"You know my terms." Donnie said, ice.

"This is not a negotiation." Leo said, too loud. "I'm not f*cking around with your life. I'll take you with me next time. Drink the water now."

"I'm not rewarding your bad behaviour." Donnie sneered.

Leo picked up at small rock and threw it at him, missing and hitting the wall above Donnie's head with a ping. Or more likely a calculated miss, Donnie would be pretty disappointed if Leo was so impaired that he couldn't hit an unmoving target less than ten feet away from him.

"This isn't a game." Leo threw another rock, pinging away in another direction. "You've proven your point."

"I don't think so." Donnie said.

"I really think we have enough problems without you creating new ones. I actually don't think I've ever felt this frustrated with you and I survived your entire Nyan Cat phase."

Donnie's brain immediately began to play the Nyan Cat song, which he had listened on loop for weeks. It was a particularly stark contrast of that moment to this one, that made him feel off-balance and unwell. Sugar sweet music as he watched the wretched expression on Leo's face twist and try to find somewhere to settle. What game his twin was going to try and play next to win.

Donnie needed to move this gridlock forward somehow, because if Leo hadn't stopped being equally frustrating for the last sixteen years he sure as hell wasn't going to stop now. While he wasn't about to give up his stance, but maybe he could find a way around it. "What's our plan? Are we staying here?"

Leo glared. He picked up another little rock, but didn't throw it this time, tossing up and snatching it out of the air repeatedly. He muttered, "The plan is you're going to stop prioritizing being petty over your own life, Donatello. You're injured."

"I'm fine." Donnie rolled his eyes, because sure his ribs hurt, but he wasn't about to die. It was only because he had nothing but time to think about them hurting that made it so unbearable. And that Leo had nothing but time to listen to the little whistle-wheeze as he tried to breathe. He was working himself up over nothing. "I assume your plan is that we are going to remain here since it avoids our water source being a target."

Leo hesitated before answering. "Yes. But I am concerned that being here isolates you too much from it, since you can't teleport there like me. If you were on your own for whatever reason, you wouldn't have access."

Donnie made a big show of blinking and looking around, pretending to be startled. "Oh my goodness, have you seen where my twin has gone? Because surely he wouldn't be here telling me something so unbelievably hypocritical after I was just being rightfully pissed at him for leaving me alone."

"It's not the same thing." Leo said, through gritted teeth.

"Just because you say that, doesn't make it true." Donnie grit his teeth back at him in mirror, straining forward. He flicked up his own rock, aiming right the wall beside Leo's ear.

Leo flinched like he'd been shot, and ducked his head. A shadow over his face as he said, "But you are right. We can't show our hand about the water. So we should probably stay here. I was thinking maybe we should see if you can use my sword like Dad can."

"I don't need to." Donnie dismissed. "Because you're not going anywhere. Right?"

The darkness kept Leo's his expression hidden, beyond a crooked smile on his mouth. "I'm just planning for all eventualities, D."

"Scoff." Donnie flicked another rock, hitting a mile away and somehow still making Leo flinch. It helplessly made Donnie's stomach drop through the floor -- something about all of Leo's facades but he couldn't turn off that instinctive reaction.

Or something about seeing Leo from a distance, even if it was the stone's throw away, really gave him a fuller perspective on the state of his brother. There was a minute tremor in his fingertips, easily hidden when he folded them together. A trick-of-light bruising on the side of his face, worse when he turned away and the slopes of it revealed to be purple with yellow spider-webbed edges and not just shadows. The exhaustion hanging off his every pore, along with a ragged coat of dirt that Leo never would've allowed to stand against his complexion if he had access to any kind of running water.

Mirrored positions on either side of the cave, ten feet felt like ten miles, two twins staring at each other.

Something about looking at him just reminded Donnie of the dire situation they were in, and that fist squeezed his heart when he remembered that the odds weren't great, that there was no clear escape and this was a Leo that was probably only going to get worse from here. Like the worst kind of premonition.

Donnie didn't believe in the ability to tell the future. But he did understand pattern recognition and following logical possibilities. And honestly? They were so f*cked. There was only so many places to hide in a vast open wasteland. They could run but not faster than Prime. They had a water source but that would not last forever. They had no food source and that was something that would only get harder with time.

The hunger was like a fifty-pound backpack that he could not set down. It was there, both of them were quietly bowed under it. If only they spontaneously develop photosynthesis.

Leo was looking back at him. There was a terrible expression on his face.

"You're going to get wrinkles." Donnie told him. It was an olive branch, going from pissed off snapping to cooled teasing.

Leo hesitated, but gripped the offering eagerly. "Wrinkles wouldn't dare. It'd be like desecrating a national monument."

"Har har." Donnie said.

A strained beat of pause. Leo said, "Can you please drink some water, D?"

Oh, that was good. It really stepped on his ribs for a second, hard to breathe at the just barely-there plead in Leo's voice. Donnie admired the move, but didn't give his position. "How would you feel if I left you here alone?"

"It's not the same." Leo replied.

"Explain your reasoning." Donnie demanded.

"Because you're injured. Because of m--" Leo cut himself off and turned away, shadows falling heavy over him again.

"I missed the part where you slammed me into the rocks, Leon." Donnie said, dry. And of course it was the guilt -- forget the heavy weight of hunger, Leo was crushed with his self-imposed guilt of only about thousand pounds.

"You wouldn't be here if it wasn't for me." Leo ground out, like he was rubbing the sandpaper of his teeth together while awake.

"Don't take responsibility for my decision." Donnie said, fully aware that there was no way Leo was about to believe him.

"What's yours is mine." Leo turned his mouth into something resembling a smile.

"We share." Donnie corrected.

A skip in the back and forth of their conversation, as if their dad was right there, reminding them over and over and over to share. From screaming fights as toddlers to begrudgingly splitting down the middle as kids to teenagers having perfected the art of handing over favourite pieces. Buying excess of something just to share it when the other inevitably showed up to steal some. Scooting over to give half their chair. Flapping open blankets in the middle of the night after dreams they dissected down the most minute detail. Sharing personal space as if it didn't matter when it was two halves of the same soul.

"We share." Leo agreed. "Share the water with me. Please."

"I wish you said please half as often at home." Donnie deflected.

"I'll start. As soon as we get home." There was a quick rush of his words, tripping over each other. Desperation. "Please, I'm sorry, okay? I'm sorry I left you alone. I was scared he'd be there and I went without thinking how much that would suck for you and I promise I won't do it again. Please drink the water."

Hm. Almost. Donnie could see himself caving to that, the stumble of Leo's panic, the wild despair in his eyes and how he kept tucking away the frantic tremor of his hands out of sight, the caved apology.

But the other side was that Leo was trying to win this argument just as much as Donnie was, and it was entirely possible he was leaning into his panic fully knowing that Donnie hated to see him upset. That it was a calculated give-up, that led to Leo winning. End result, point in Leonardo's favour.

"Take me back to the ship." Donnie said, deciding on what would be best. "We'll get some more ice -- we'll need more water than this anyway. I'll drink that."

"If you'll drink that, why won't you drink this?" Leo gestured at the pot, still waiting between them.

"Because I never want you to do that to me again." Donnie said, letting the anger at the situation bleed back into his tone to tell his twin how f*cking serious he was about that.

A small deflation along with a sigh, Leo scratching the back of his neck. The picture of apologetic guilt. Too picture perfect, it was something painted exactly for him.

"That's my final offer." Donnie cut over whatever Leo was going to try to sell him.

The expression slid away. Leo returned to a scowl.

Donnie inhaled for a moment, feeling the bite of the cold air around them, hugging his elbows close. He said, "If you've decided we're staying here, then I want to go back for more ice and to gather some of that burlap."

Leo's jaw ticked. "We're safer staying away."

Donnie recognized the stubborn tilt, that it wasn't enough. He needed one last push.

The two of them never had any kind of dynamic for who was the older twin or the younger twin -- the whole reason they were twins was because they were meant to be equal, they shared. However, that didn't mean Donnie didn't know how to abuse his younger sibling privilege, with all the practice he had with Raph. Leo was just as susceptible to it.

Donnie really let himself sink into the freezing atmosphere, weaponizing all his innocent little brother energy, "But Leo, I'm cold."

"Evil." Leo pointed directly at him. "Evil. Put that face away. What are you, Mikey?"

Donnie did not put the face away. He did, in fact, learn it from Mikey. Possibly even asked for tips.

Leo cursed and covered his eyes with his hand. "I hate you. I hate you so much. Fine. You win. You win, okay? Gloat all you want. Just. God, please D, please drink when we get it."

Donnie smiled. It was a shame victory had a sore, dry throat.

Pushing up, hand scraping the wall in his attempt to get his legs underneath him, Donnie managed to stand without embarrassing himself. Then he scooped up the sword and inspected himself in the reflection of the blade, barely visible in the low lighting. His staring reflection was covered in a fine layer of dirt, along with something a little frantic in his eyes that he couldn't wipe even as he tried. All those hours spent practising his expressions in the mirror didn't help him now, not with the weight of the fear and the hunger and the pain and all the physical and emotional sensations he was combating.

A hot bath sounded really good. Maybe with some ice cream, just to have that delicious temperature contrast. Then he could crawl into fresh clean sheets and sleep soundly for hours and hours. He'd take a turtle pile right now, if only to see the dimples in Mikey's smile and the chur of Raph laying beside him and the lack of worried crease in Leo's brow.

"So your hypothesis is that because Dad was capable of using your sword, it is a Hamato shared power instead of just Dad being incredibly versatile?" Donnie asked, managing to get his voice in something resembling his preferred monotone instead of this tortured arguing that was all Leo's fault for starting.

"My hippopotamus is that it'd be stupid if we didn't at least try and see how many assets were have at our disposal." Leo replied, rolling his eyes up towards the shallow ceiling, flopping the hand away from his face.

"I am not proposing any semi-aquatic mammals, thank you." Donnie said, stiffly. He spun the sword agilely, having practiced with enough weapons over the years that a sword wasn't too hard to play with. There wasn't any noticeable spark of ninpo, however. "I doubt this will work, unless you feel as if you'd be able to build constructs like I do. Hell, can you imagine doing Mikey's chain thing?"

"No idea how he does that." Leo admitted, pushing off the wall and joining Donnie in the middle, where the ceiling was the highest and they didn't have to duck as much. "I just. If you can portal, I'd like to know now."

Donnie reached inside of himself for the abstract thing he considered his ninpo. Judging by the conversations with his family, it felt different for each of them, and for Donnie it was...

Well. It was a battery. That was how he imagined it, if only to give himself a physical representation in his mind so he could properly utilize it. A battery had chemical energy moved through a reaction flowing electrons from one material to another. Something about picturing his Hamato spirit as flowing electrons helped him to grab hold of something so ephemeral. It was never as effortless for him as it was for Mikey, who could run before he could walk when it came to ninpo. Trying to get Mikey to explain how he managed to harass it so easily was a wash, since he didn't get the concepts, he just went off vibes.

Donnie went better off concepts. Even if there weren't really any, beyond being in touch with yourself and blah blah blah. Donnie preferred replicable results with concise conclusions. That made sense to him.

Ninpo was still something that didn't quite make sense to him. And therefore he wasn't super hopeful that he'd be able to summon a portal, and with the way ninpo worked it was kind of a whole self-fulfilling prophecy thing. He didn't think he could do it, so he wouldn't.

It was standing in the middle of Witch Town again, hurting from something he didn't understand that everyone else did and no matter how many times he asked them to explain, it didn't get clearer. It relied too much on faith. Believing in something he didn't understand.

Donnie drew on his battery, electric purple in his mind, guiding it to his fingertips. Sparking purple eagerly, his ninpo loved to create constructions for him. But there was no light up of the sword in his hand, just the suggestion that he could try and make a purple construct machine that could create portals if he knew the technology behind it.

Because that was the thing. He could only create things that he knew how to make.

A frustrated scowl fell on Donnie's face, because it really would be nice if he could make portals too. He said, "What do you think about when you do this?"

Leo hesitated. He reached out, folding his fingers over Donnie's, and said, "I think about where I want to be."

After a second, the sword erupted in brighter blue markings, and a portal formed. Opening into the ship they'd left behind. Donnie didn't feel anything from the formation of the portal that him made confident he could recreate it.

Whatever. He handed Leo back his sword and stepped through the portal before it could close, just in case Leo changed his mind. The darkness swallowed him instantly, an instinctive reaction to light his purple markings and cast the room in the cool shade of it.

Leo followed him in, the portal shutting soundlessly. The two of them stood, listening, neither of them making a sound.

"If we go underneath the ship to gather more ice are you going to have a panic attack again?" Leo said, voice barely above level once they stood still long enough to determine they were alone. It was meant to be a barb, because Leo was an asshole, and also because Leo didn't want him to be there.

But Donnie was fairly sure he wouldn't have a panic attack this time, if only because he'd discovered the only thing worse than the hellish realization of this existence was being left alone in it.

"I've never panicked about anything in my entire life." Donnie replied. He met Leo's eyes like a challenge.

"Hmph." Leo turned away. They could argue about it or they could get the job done and leave.

"Do you think if they had water, then they had food too?" Donnie asked, tapping an overturned bin with his foot. There was nothing underneath but dust and debris.

"I think this ship has been in here a long time." Leo said. "If there is, would it be any good to eat?"

"We should look anyway." Donnie replied. Maybe because the hunger weighed on him, along with the knowledge that their argument wouldn't have been half as explosive or their decisions half as terrible if they weren't already beginning to feel the effects.

Leo sighed. But he took Donnie's hand and led the way through the ship once more, the splash of their colours painting the walls as they traced a path. They hadn't seen anything resembling a kitchen on their first walk throughs, so they tried a different path. They portalled inside a couple rooms that had the doors obstructed.

They found the kitchen hidden behind a blocked section. More sinks and storage bins, large and industrial sized. The floor was covered in discarded containers, empty and broken. Leo checked a wall of sealed doors first, opening each in turn. Donnie inspected the mess on the floor.

"Someone was hungry in here." Donnie responded, a little ill at the thought. Each container was licked clean, from whatever was inside.

"Mhm." Leo said and closed the fridge-like door he was looking inside. "Don't open that."

Donnie immediately wanted to open that. He got a little closer and said with sick curiosity, "What's in there?"

"I believe it is the 'someone who was hungry'." Leo replied.

"Ah." Donnie still wanted to look, but he wasn't sure his stomach could handle it. "Human or Kraang?"

"Neither. Well. As far as I can tell. I'm not eager to get a second look."

Damn. Donnie's scientific curiosity was slightly higher than his weak stomach. He eyed the fridge for a moment, contemplating.

"D." Leo said, firm. "You seriously don't want to see."

"How decomposed is the body?" Donnie asked.

"Not very, too cold in here. Think a morgue freezer."

"It's probably not that bad, then." Donnie tried to psyche himself up, reaching for the handle.

Leo grabbed his hand mid-way there. He shook his head.

Fine. Donnie really didn't want to puke right now. "Was there anything else in there?"

"No." Leo said. Too quick.

"Okay." Donnie let him. "Well, let's check the cupboards."

There was little hope, because someone wouldn't have crawled into the fridge to die until they'd exhausted all their resources. The two of them opened each set of doors, finding the same empty ration containers and wrappers.

Donnie waited until Leo had his head properly inside a deeper storage unit and tip-toed back with ninja stealth to approach the fridge. He held his breath and opened the door.

His markings lit the corpse in faint violet. Not human, not Kraang, something slumped over with jaw detached and hanging. Painted on the inside was some kind of writing -- whatever it was, the same alien word over and over -- and the alien's appendage was torn open and caked in the same dark substance covering the wall. Something about the stillness of the corpse, the vacant stare of what could've been a face -- it immediately turned Donnie's stomach, let alone the desperation needed to decorate the walls of your tomb in your own blood. He wanted to know what the word was. He hoped he never had to know.

The fridge door snapped shut from Leo's hand and his brother stepped in front of him with a scowl. He said, "Didn't you trust me that you didn't want to see that? f*ck, don't throw up."

"I'm not going to throw up." Donnie said, hands over his mouth, trying his hardest not to throw up. He had nothing to throw up anyway. He was totally in control.

"Why did you do this?" Leo complained, stretching the syllables out.

Because Donnie came here to make sure Leo wasn't alone. If Leo was experiencing the horrors, then so was Donnie. "Because of my insatiable scientific curiosity. I'm more surprised that it's the first corpse we've found -- this ship is pretty big."

"Mm." Leo replied. "Probably because it was hidden."

Ah. Right. The Kraang. Donnie didn't want to speculate on the fate of anyone found by them, because that would mean speculating on his own future and... he didn't have the stomach for that at the moment.

"There's nothing left here." Leo pat his arm. "Come on. Let's get the ice and some fabric scraps and get out before ugly comes back."

"Ugly? That's the best you've got?" Donnie said, trying to match his lightness, trying to move past the gnawing hole of a face he'd just seen burnt into his retina. The writing on the wall.

"Bubblegum f*cker." Leo added.

"He's like if Pepto Bismol was piloting a Gundam."

"Hah. Nerd."

Donnie whacked his arm. They portalled out of the abandoned kitchen no richer than when they entered.

Leo offered to fetch the water by himself and Donnie levelled him with his best Unimpressed Stare, guaranteed to get his way or his money back, and crawled into the bowels of the ship once more to peel away more of the metal tank to chop off a few more ice blocks. They discussed Donnie's ninpo resources and decided to stock up, creating a purple constructed net to hold more ice than they could carry in their arms alone. The same was used for pillaging a bunch of the burnt burlap from the laundry room, and together they left the ship.

Obviously the small rest Leo had was not long enough, for when they returned to their cave at last the sword clattered out of his hand and onto the floor.

"sh*t." Leo muttered, scooping it up with a barely noticeable tremor in his hand, but Donnie had seen it anyway.

"Idiot." Donnie replied. "Do you know what helps with regaining your strength?"

"I do not want to hear it from the guy refusing to drink water just to prove a f*cking point right now." Leo snapped back. He thumped his bag down, having carried the much heavier ice.

Donnie set up the burlap on the other side of the cave. He was aware that it wasn't going to help the already cold temperature to have the ice in there with them. "Should we keep the ice outside?"

"What if Prime sees it?" Leo said, proving his paranoia was always going to be stronger than Donnie's.

"Mmm." Donnie agreed. They'd just have to rely on body heat, at least the burlap would help them trap it between them. Heating up more water might improve the temperature a bit, even with the open mouth of the cave. "I just wonder if the boiling condensation will melt our surplus."

"Let me go look around." Leo said, and left.

Donnie froze in his task, all his muscles locking up. His heart started going triple time. That was definitely not a normal reaction to his brother stepping out of his sight line. He knew with incredible logic that Leo was just stepping outside to see if there was somewhere hidden to store the ice.

And as Leo came back, still looking as calm as could be, he wondered why it was that Leo seemed perfectly capable of walking away from him when Donnie couldn't stand it.

"I think there's a spot that could work." Leo replied.

"I'll help you." Donnie scampered up, trying to hide how he was lightheaded from the sudden assault of his cardiovascular system.

"I think I can handle it, D." Leo said, dry, and pointed firmly to the pot still in the middle of the room. It had a growing thin film of ice over the surface. "I met your terms. Drink."

"I want to see." Donnie excused, and gestured for Leo to hurry up.

The tension didn't leave Leo's jaw. He heaved the net bag over his shoulder and took the excess ice outside.

A wide expanse of nothing and stars took Donnie's breath away. So much potential danger in every inch of existence, impossible to scour every nook of darkness to spot an approach. Crawling ant feeling. Donnie wished he could relax. He hadn't been on edge for this long before, it was making him light headed. Or maybe that was the dehydration.

Leo showed him with sarcastic fanfare the little alcove in the rocky cave. They loaded the extra ice there, four hands making the work quick, keeping one piece to boil.

Donnie let the purple construct net dissolve into the dreary atmosphere. Back inside the cave, brother firmly at his side, Leo nudged him towards the pot.

As much as Donnie would love to stick to his guns and only drink water that they'd fetched, it was a moot point. And he was so f*cking thirsty. A cottony layer scratching his throat with every swallow, a full body desire for exactly what he was holding. He plucked the thin layer of ice off the top and drank the blissfully cool water underneath, blazing a path through the desert of his esophagus. The shock of cold seized his stomach and he had to stop and breath through not immediately puking.

"Heat it up again?" Leo suggested.

That was a reasonable request, even if now he had the water in his hands the urge to chug until he finished was much stronger. It took a remarkable level of self-restraint to lower the pot and configure his construct induction camping stove, adding in his little sliver of ice from the top. Then another chunk from the block they brought inside.

The two watched it boil in silence. Leo's eyes were eerily distant, far away, and Donnie couldn't help but reach out and tug on the tails of his dirtied mask.

"Hey." Donnie said, voice far softer than he thought he could ever sound. "Angry at me?"

"Hm." Leo focused his gaze on Donnie and gave his sweet and shy smile. "Angry at me?"

Of course, when Donnie's hell was Leo walking away from him, then Leo's hell was people he loved being angry at him. How cruel that even with everything, they could still manage to be each other's personal torture.

"I love you, Leo." Donnie replied, with his whole chest, because whether or not he was still angry didn't matter. This was what mattered. "That's why I'm here."

Leo swallowed. It clicked in his throat, and that worry made his gaze dull and pupils small. "And what if loving me is what kills you?"

"Then it's better than the alternative." Donnie told him, fiercely.

It didn't stick, bouncing right off. Leo shook his head and fidgeted with the photo still tucked in his belt. The water began to boil, so Donnie added another piece.

He had no idea how to make himself more clear. It was obvious Leo was only listening to what he wanted to hear. The ice bobbed in circles in the boiling water, dissolving fast. Condensation filling the low ceiling. Donnie wished he could absorb the moisture from the air and not lose a precious drop.

"What do you think they wrote?" Leo asked, sudden.

It took only a moment to connect the dots, but Donnie was vindicated that their shared twin braincell was running as strong as ever. Leo was also hung up on the repetitive word written in blood on the walls. One last dying message, impossible to decode with their resources. But gnawing at both of their brains, apparently.

"I couldn't guess." Donnie said, honestly, because the sheer lack of data made it impossible.

Leo kept his too-far away gaze on the roiling pot. "What would you write?"

"Hm." That was hard. "Assuming I'm doomed to die, you mean?"

"Yeah." Leo shifted uncomfortably. "I guess."

"Exactly what I already said." Donnie shrugged, the emotion of it a fist in his dry throat. The painful blazed path of icy water. "I love you."

Leo blinked rapidly, though his eyes didn't shine with tears. There was something hidden in his face when he said, "Yeah. Me too."

Through the steam on the other side, maybe Leo had thought he wouldn't see, or maybe he had no idea he was subconsciously doing it -- but he signed his real answer, a fist in a circle against his chest. I'm sorry.

Chapter 6

Chapter Text

The water was still warm when Donnie drank it, but he could hardly wait any longer. The overfilled feeling sloshed around inside him, but it was fine. It was better than fine because it was water.

They shuffled around their sh*tty nest, the scratchy burlap giving them a layer between the hard floor. They had a small stand off, when Leo settled down and offered his legs for Donnie to use as a pillow again.

Donnie stared at him. Leo stared back.

"Come on, dude. You said you were cold." Leo coaxed, narrowing his eyes, throwing that claim back in Donnie's face just a little.

He had said that. And it was true -- hanging out in the cold temperatures was really taking a toll on him, seemingly no reprieve from the constant chill seeping into his skin. The temptation to curl up on his brother's lap and just sink into their make-shift nest was high.

"Can we not have every single f*cking thing in this place a fight?" Leo tried again, voice going just a little weaker when he added, "Please?"

"Sigh." Donnie verbalized, sitting beside his twin. "We really should've played more co-op games."

The two of them loved to play anything where someone would win. Chess, of course, but also video game shooters, Monopoly, and even Twister. Competitive to the max, especially against each other. They both wanted their own way.

And yet, when they did play co-op games -- there was one summer they relentlessly tried to beat Left 4 Dead -- together they could clear every level as soon as they found a rhythm. They just needed to do that. The push and pull of their strengths and weaknesses. To take the competitiveness and make it us versus the world instead.

Though it was one thing to jump between a zombie to protect his brother in a video game while he laughed his ass off beside him at their misfortune, it was another to have to see the discoloured bruise on the side of Leo's actual face when he turned just the right way in the light.

It made Donnie's stomach swirl with the metallic water like a washing machine. He busied himself tugging all the scraps around them, trying to make them maybe a little warm. What a joke.

"How are you doing?" Leo asked, clearing his throat.

"You mentioned the Nyan Cat song and it has been playing in my head non-stop." Donnie told him. "How are you?"

Leo tried to imitate the meows. It didn't come out right.

Donnie knocked their shoulders together with a chuckle. "Really, Nardo."

"Really." Leo cut himself off, bumping their shoulders in echo. "Lie down. You must be exhausted from being so pissed at me."

He wasn't exactly wrong. Donnie stared at the bruised side of his face, because his brother wasn't looking at him, and said, "If you take first watch will you try to sleep second?"

The yield was the word try because they both knew how this worked.

"I'll try." Leo agreed, accepting the concession.

Donnie laid down. He shuffled the fabric scraps a little until Leo's hand joined and got him properly settled. Like he was tucking him in. Like Dad's hand was there too, fussing over his boys. An emotion joined the fray. Sad? Different than that. Grief? That made no sense.

The silence made his ears ring. Tinnitus too distracting to sleep. Then Leo, his hand still on Donnie's shoulder, began to hum something.

"Is that supposed to be Nyan Cat?" Donnie mumbled, because it was all stuttering and mushed together.

"It's a remarkably hard song to hum." Leo whispered back. "Thanks for that, by the way."

"You brought it up first." Donnie complained.

"Yeah, yeah. Go to sleep, genius."

Too fond. Donnie listened to him decide on something else to hum. It might've been 'Here Comes a Thought' from Steven Universe. Donnie silently filled in the words to the tune. You've got nothing, got nothing, got nothing, got nothing to fear. I'm here. I'm here. I'm here.

Sap. Donnie gave a little smile hidden where he was hugging Leo's legs as a pillow and managed to let sleep take over.

Donnie did not have pleasant dreams. They were inarticulate, and he kept gasping awake, cold sweat and shaking hands. It was almost more exhausting than not trying to sleep at all, but each time Leo was right there, humming a different song. Encouraging him to try and get a little more rest.

"Stop letting that brain run so far away from you." Leo whispered, rubbing the chill off Donnie's biceps, obsessively tugging their makeshift blanket back over to cover him again.

"You love my brain." Donnie argued, barely coherent, cheek smushed. The dregs of sleep clinging to him, drawing him back down into the nightmares. No reprieve, not even in rest.

"Not when it's hurting you." Leo said, soft. If it weren't for the curdles of anxiety in his stomach, the pervasive cold that only seemed more stark in comparison to the scraps they'd cobbled together on the floor with every shift or movement to let that cold leak into their bubble, and the pain that lived in his ribs -- it almost could be the two of them at home.

Donnie or Leo's room, it never mattered. There was a huge purple dragon Squishmellow on Donnie's bed that was only there to be Leo's pillow when he visited. Leo hated weighted blankets because they made him claustrophobic, but there was still an extra one stashed underneath his bed that Donnie would drag out and inevitably wallop Leo with in his struggle to get it on the bed.

The run of a fan, white noise and air flow. The hum of it reassuring in its consistency -- Donnie loved consistency. The measured temperature of the sewers, always little damp even with all his Genius Built heating and air purifying.

Donnie's room had his big dark duvet cover, the kind that was puffy and down-filled, easy to wrap himself up like a burritello. The two of them didn't share blankets, not since they were little kids, as it led to far too much kick fighting. But that didn't mean that the heavy weight of his twin, the too-warm of bundled blankets side by side. Leo always ended up crossing a leg over his. Donnie sometimes drew Leo's arm into his duvet bubble to clutch like a teddy bear.

In Donnie's room lit by violet tracklights, in Leo's room smelling of the sandalwood candles he loved, or conked out on the couch after a long mission to the giggles of their family taking pictures. It could've been with the warm background noise, Splinter's distant TV chatter, the reassuring clangs of Mikey cooking up a storm in the kitchen, or Raph creaking open the door to find where the wayward twin had gone during his rounds and relaxing with a sigh when he saw them together.

There was absolutely none of that. None of those comforts, only the voice of his twin humming him a soft little song and his shared warmth. But that comfort had been the biggest constant in his life, in dark rooms and couch cushions and med bays. The Leo that Donnie saw most in the dead of night, the gentle, the delirious, the warm. Dissecting his dreams with him, both of them staring at the ceiling picking blanket threads, talking about the past, talking about the future.

Tears stung the corners of his eyes, as the nightmares bled into reality, as he thought too long and too hard in the in-between stasis of awake and asleep how he would've lost that Leo of his.

"Aw, shoot." Leo curled closer, cold fingers wiping away Donnie's tears. "What are you crying about, D? Everything's okay."

Donnie sniffed hugely and shifted to open his arms in ask for a hug. With a couple hours of sleep under his belt, he felt awful for being pissed at Leo. And maybe a little hurting and tired and scared. He didn't want to be the one to hurt Leo, he'd just -- he'd been so scared when Leo left him alone.

He'd been so scared that Leo wasn't going to come back.

Leo gamely wrapped his arms around Donnie, giving him a squeeze and a big palm rubbing on his shell, which was bare? Oh damn it, his battle shell must've despawned when he'd lost focus in his sleep. That wasn't great to learn.

Donnie hiccuped loudly in Leo's ear. The last nightmare had been reaching and reaching and reaching for Leo in an endless void and never making contact. He felt like sh*t for screaming at Leo earlier, for pushing him, for giving him that heartbroken expression on his face. He trembled and held on, trying to convey all of that in a hug.

"Jesus Christ, you're a needy motherf*cker." Leo teased in his ear, even with that same soft soft soft voice. "Why are you crying, huh? Hey, hey. Look at me. Hey, shh, look at me."

Donnie blinked, trying to clear the blurry tears, Leo holding him just far enough away to see his winning reassuring smile. Best given to a Mikey during injections, a Raph after being left alone, and a Donnie anytime he'd past the tipping point into dreaded crying.

Donnie hated crying. It was miserable and gross and an unfortunate consequence of having a body. Leo knew that he hated it, and he also could immediately and almost with telepathic accuracy pinpoint the reason for his upset. He said, eyes wide and earnest and sincere, "I'm fine, Donatello. Take a deep breath, okay?"

"Get out of my head." Donnie complained, wet and whining, not wanting to look at his stupid twin and his stupid earnest face, burying himself in the hug again.

"You're sleepy and sad, of course that's what your genius brain is running." Leo said, tucking Donnie underneath his chin. "I think I've heard enough of your dreams over the years to guess, let's see. You're losing me? How about that whole, feet stuck in the sand thing? That one always recurs for you. Hm, what else. You're thinking about how much of a mean bitch you were to me today. Well, don't worry, Tello. I forgave you already, because you're my mean bitch."

Donnie hiccuped a barely-there laugh, and he could just feel the smile Leo pressed into the top of his bandana.

"Yeah. Thought so." Leo said, quietly. "You forgive me too, right?"

"I was just scared." Donnie rasped.

The quiet blanketed them, only broken by Donnie's hitched breath. Then Leo held him almost painfully tighter and whispered, "Yeah, I get that. Don't worry."

Donnie thought of what he was sure was going through Leo's mind at the same moment -- a pink tentacle holding Leo up by the throat, and Leo saying, 'you weren't mad, you were scared'.

The tears slowed by virtue that he could feel Leo clutching him tight. He hadn't lost him yet. And Donnie maybe managed to get some more rest, not listening to the echoing endless silence of the void, but to the heartbeat he could hear through Leo's plastron. He kept his ear pressed there, and the sound followed him into his dreams.

The disorientating feeling that there was no morning, there was no night, it was the endless black with stars only to light the way. But it must've been quite a while later when Donnie woke.

"I love you so much, my brother." Leo whispered into the dim of their cave. "But I seriously have to pee."

Ah. So did Donnie, actually. All the water they'd consumed yesterday was great, but did have some minor repercussions. Whatever, his dreams still hadn't been particularly pleasant, but at least he felt like he'd slept a lot longer this time.

All his muscles ached when they got up, organizing a designated bathroom and boiling some more water. Donnie kept yawning and rubbing his eyes as he worked on the stove, crusty and uncomfortable from crying. His stomach hurt the most today, eclipsing the pain in his ribs by a mile. He was so hungry it wasn't even funny anymore. The two of them drank their fill of water, that stark metallic taste nothing to quell the way it bubbled and churned without food.

Admittedly, Donnie's usual problems with food were sensory in nature. But since he had a loving family, he never went hungry, because if there was something he couldn't eat, they would go out of their way to find him something he would. Occasionally he'd have bouts of reduced appetite in times of change, but he'd never experienced prolonged and dedicated hunger like this.

It made Donnie feel supremely out of sync with his body, and frustrated that he couldn't hit a 'remind me later' on the relentless hunger signal. He knew. He would fix it if he could.

"Your turn." Donnie told Leo, once they'd had their 'breakfast' of still-warm water, like a cup of the world's worst tea. At least it provided a little warmth.

"Mmkay." Leo agreed, eyelids sticking tiredly. That was a fairly promising sign, that maybe he'd actually sleep. The depletion of his ninpo still really needed to be replenished, and it was never going to happen if Leo didn't rest.

Donnie took his spot as pillow in the nest and let Leo curl up on his legs. He fussed over the scraps, trying to get them in some kind of protective barrier between Leo and the cold. Leo's eyes were closed but he was too-still to be asleep.

Donnie was right when Leo spoke, throat clicking with the effort of speaking, "Do you know what I was thinkin' about?"

"What's that?" Donnie asked, keeping his voice down as a reminder that his idiot twin was meant to be sleeping.

"Mm... when you grabbed my sword, what happened to the other one?"

Donnie ran his mind back through the frantic adrenaline filled haze, and said, "It fell back to Earth, I believe."

"That's what I was hopin'." Leo shifted closer, brow twitching in thought. "I was thinking about how... of course I can't break out, we don't have the key. But maybe there's some kind of loophole since we've got one sword here and one sword there. Do you think?"

"I haven't the faintest idea." Donnie replied, because this was magic, and that was not his domain. He leaned over a bit, tapping Leo's arm in reminder. "But whatever you want to try, you'll need energy to do that. You have to sleep."

Leo exhaled a sigh, deflating gently. A few minutes later, he finally snuffled in sleep, pulling Donnie closer, hiding his face.

Donnie relearned that this was the worst part, the haunting silence, the fact that he was only left with the sound of his own blood pounding through his veins. That he was alone and responsible for watching over his twin's rest. The paranoia sunk into his bones, staring at the distant exit of the cave, convinced that it would light up red, that there would be a sudden visitor and they'd be caught lacking.

This was awful. Plato, how could Leo stand it? Though judging by his mumblings before he went to sleep, he was actually beginning to think of ways to get them out of there. Donnie wished he had any kind of mystic knowledge that would help, but really the best he had was: yeah sure the swords are connected to each other, but what did that mean empirically?

Nothing useful to Donnie. He was helpless, reliant on his twin's powers and strategic brain. He had the utmost faith in Leo, he just wasn't sure if there was an escape. If they were looking for something where there was nothing. If they were just going to get killed in the process.

A hysterical laugh tried to bubble up his throat and Donnie swallowed it hard. Well, they were going to get killed either way. So.

Donnie needed something to occupy his mind or he was going to lose it. He decided to list every element on the periodic table and its atomic number. But that barely took any time at all. Leo started to grind his teeth loudly again, the asshole. Donnie rested his palm on Leo's jaw, pretending it might help, but instead gave him the mechanical feedback of the motion his twin was inflicted on his own enamel. Gross. He started to count by prime numbers.

That was better.

At the point where he was at 28,697, Leo stirred for the first time. Judging by some quick mental math, Donnie could assume he'd been counting for just over three hours, which meant he had to convince Leo to go back to sleep.

"Aw." Leo said, muffled, curling closer and knocking some of his nest scraps off.

"Aw?" Donnie prompted, keeping his voice low.

"I was dreamin' about Mike and Raph." Leo sounded so terribly disappointed.

"Go back to sleep. Maybe they'll still be there." Donnie encouraged.

"Hmmm." Leo squeezed his eyes shut tighter. "You're okay if I sleep more?"

"I am literally begging you to sleep more." Donnie replied, dry.

"Mmkay. I tell 'em you said hi."

"You do that."

Leo breathed in and out. He was gone again.

Donnie picked up where he left off. 28,703... 28,711... 28,723...

The second time Leo woke, at 72,689, he didn't even sound awake when he asked, "You okay?"

"I'm okay." Donnie said.

That was apparently all Leo needed, as he went back to sleep. Donnie kept his eyes on the door and his mind on finding the next prime number, which was 72,701.

Donnie didn't have a good measure of time anymore, because it took him an inconsistent length to determine the next prime. But it was at 93,053 that Leo stirred for the third and final time. He blinked up and rasped dazedly, "I feel like I died."

"I don't think I've seen you sleep that long in years." Donnie admitted. "You didn't even seem to have nightmares, lucky bastard."

"I think I was dreaming I was home, which might be worse." Leo sat up and scrubbed at his eyes. "Damn, aren't your legs cramped?"

"Horribly." Donnie said, but it didn't matter. Between the hunger and the paranoia and the boredom, legs cramps were just another kick in the teeth in the beating of miseries. "I'll add it your bill."

Judging by the flash of darkness on Leo's face that he swiftly suffocated, Donnie mentally tabbed that joke as 'not funny', even when Leo gave him a laugh for it.

Donnie heated up a little more water, hard to deny when it was the only thing they had to sustain themselves. He was thinking about how his initial dread of the water situation, that it was only accessible via portal and therefore isolated Donnie from the water source -- had a flip on the other side. That without Donnie, there would be no way for Leo to melt the water for drinking. Two interconnected parts in a machine. Impossible to separate without breaking the other. It was almost poetic.

"How's your ribs?" Leo asked, reaching to press fingertips against his plastron.

"They're okay." Donnie raised his arms and took a deep breath while Leo listened. There was no wet or rattle. "How's your head?"

The bruising had moved past the dark purples and greens into a sickly yellow. Leo said, "I don't even feel it. Does it still look bad?"

"It's yellow now." Donnie reported, factual.

"Ah, bilirubin. I'll be fine. And your ribs seem okay."

"That's what I told you."

Leo cracked a little smile and let go. It wavered. "What about your ninpo?"

It had been a few days since he'd poured it out like a tap in an attempt to desperately fly into the portal. It wasn't nearly as precarious.

"As far as I can tell with limited input, my ninpo is behaving at optimal levels."

"You mean it's totally Gucci?"

"Yes, it is totally Gucci." Donnie deadpanned, just to make Leo smile.

Which he did, even if it was the anxious one, wound up.

Donnie turned the question on him. "How does yours feel?"

Leo hummed, the small smile dropping, and looking away to rub the back of his neck. "Maybe a little less than Gucci."

"Prada?"

The chuckle had little humour. "Something like that. If we do want to try to get home again, we should conserve our portal usage so I can get a bit more power."

"You were thinking about trying to connect to your other sword, you said." Donnie recalled the conversation they had right before Leo went to sleep.

"It's just a thought." Leo chewed on his lip, then sighed. "What do you think? I know we need food."

The whole food thing was making every other thought harder, actually. A tight, pained ache that ground his stomach even with the water. His knees were a little weak and his heart felt a bit fluttery. "We don't have to use portals to look around. We could use my ninpo."

"You can't portal." Leo said, blankly. Then immediately shook his head, "Jesus, sorry, I've got hunger brain. Of course, we could fly. Right."

"Not as fast, but requires much less output." Donnie set up his battle shell again with summoned flight mode, feeling the drain on his resources but nothing that would take him out. "We can scout as we move, and keep an eye out for anything approaching us."

"And if they do, we portal back." Leo finished the plan, the easy back and forth, nodding. "Yeah. That'll work. Do you want to go now?"

"Got something better to do?"

"Heh." Leo straightened and stretched, following Donnie out of the mouth of their cave.

The vast expanse filled the world around them in all directions. That incredibly small feeling momentarily choked Donnie before he shelved it as unhelpful.

"How do you want to do this?" Leo asked. "Do I get the cool rider you give April?"

"I'd prefer not to strain my ninpo with unnecessary constructions." Donnie gave Leo an evil smirk. "Lois Lane?"

"I hate you, actually." Leo said, frank. "Plus, dude, your ribs."

"You just determined my ribs are doing fine." Donnie refused to waver, opening out his hands in offer. The yawning stars felt like they were swirling around their location, the speck of rock floating in the middle of nothing.

"Fine, but not great." Leo scowled.

"Oh, alright, shall I just leave you behind, then?" Donnie said, which was entirely a bluff that they both knew was a bluff, only intended to poke a hole in Leo's objection.

"If your ribs start to hurt I'm portalling us back immediately." Leo thrust a finger in Donnie's face, scowling.

Donnie's ribs already hurt, but he certainly wasn't about to volunteer that information. "Noted. Please come abroad the Donatello Express, train is leaving the station."

Leo hammed up an annoyed sigh, then wrapped his arms around Donnie's neck, bracing his weight as Donnie curled arms up under his legs, scooping him up.

Okay, that did hurt his ribs a little. Donnie put all his years of practice watching Leo paint a face on in order to try and keep his own placid and unbothered. He lifted off the ground with a push of his ninpo, helped by the floating gravity that carried them effortlessly through the air.

Donnie chose a random direction to fly in, since anywhere was just as likely to be helpful as anywhere else. Leo hung onto his neck, too quiet, staring at nothing quite intently.

"Going back to sleep?" Donnie said, trying to break the trance.

"Hm?" Leo shook his head. "Sorry. Do you think we'll find anything?"

"Impossible to guess." Donnie said, surveying the swaths of nothing they were exploring, floating faster by a gentle jet-power from his battle shell. "But we have to look, otherwise it's Schrodinger's cat."

Leo hummed. After a moment, he said, "I disagree."

Donnie raised a smudged eyebrow. "Oh? Do tell."

Leo kept his eyes outwards on their passing beautiful scenery of nothing. "You told me about him before. He's the one that locked his cat in the trunk of his car, right?"

"It's a box. But yes." Donnie ranted once or twice about it, and Leo had evidently listened to some of it.

"You said the point is that the cat is both alive and dead at the same time until you open it and discover which."

"Quantum superposition." Donnie agreed. "Both are true until reality resolves into one possibility or another."

"Right. But in our situation, you can only resolve one side. If we find food, then yes, there is food in hell. But if we don't..."

"It would be nearly impossible to get negative proof." Donnie understood what his twin was trying to say.

It opened up a larger, haunting idea: that they could search forever and ever and still miss it. But they wouldn't search forever and ever, because they didn't have forever. They very much had a time limit.

"It's not as easy as opening the trunk and finding out the answer." Leo said, voice distant again.

Donnie shifted his grip on Leo's legs and shell. "It is definitely a box and not the trunk of a car, Leon."

"Hm?" Leo blinked and then chuckled. "Oh, I must be thinking of that joke."

"What's the joke?"

Leo told him the joke of Schrodinger being pulled over and the police officer asking if he knew he had a dead cat in the trunk, to which he replied, 'well, I do now!'. Donnie barked a laugh because it was stupid, and he liked the way Leo looked so pleased when Donnie laughed.

They flew through more nothing. A piece of empty rock floated by, barren and useless.

"I don't wanna be a cat." Leo spoke up, after a period of silence.

"Congratulations then, because you're a turtle." Donnie said, around the pain in his trachea. He was pretty sure he knew what Leo was talking about, and he didn't want to pursue that avenue of thought.

"You know what I mean." Leo replied, vaguely grumpy. Sounding far away, somewhere else.

Because he was thinking of home. Where their whole family had no idea if they were alive or dead. As far as they were concerned, both realities were true. And they had no way to communicate with them that they were still alive, that they were okay.

Well. As okay as could be expected. Leo was being way too quiet and somber, it was driving Donnie a little up the wall.

"We're gonna get home." Donnie said, attempting to sound sure.

"Heh." Leo tipped his head back into Donnie's and met his gaze in a side eye. "What's this unbridled optimism I'm hearing? Where's my cynical twin gone?"

"We are both going to get home." Donnie told him, managing it to be firmer.

A beat of silence hanging between them. Another floating rock of useless nothing.

"What makes you think that? Where's your evidence?" Leo asked, voice a little choked.

"Right here with me." Donnie tightened his grip. "So don't go anywhere, okay?"

A breath shuddered through Leo. He didn't reply.

They flew. There wasn't much to see. They passed more floating rocks, destroyed pieces of ships, and nothing nothing nothing. They maybe should've brought some water, because Donnie felt weak even with the gravity assist on carrying his brother.

The two explored for hours and hours. They did eventually move on from painful conversations into dissecting the plot of Jupiter Jim movies, because there was never a lack of ammunition on that and they had finally found boredom in the relentless nothingless of this hell.

There was a big landmass again, this time with dirt and rocks slammed together, large enough that it warranted landing on and exploring. Donnie was grateful for the break after the extended flight, stretching out his ribs and feeling the breathless punch of it.

"Okay?" Leo asked, looking intently at his face.

"Peachy." Donnie lied, poorly, and deflected by turning to inspect the rock they landed on. "What do you think? Maybe we'll find space mushrooms."

"You hate mushrooms." Leo pointed out reasonably, having eaten the mushrooms Donnie piled on the corner of his plate for their whole lives.

"I'm just not sure what else there would possibly be in this wasteland to eat." Donnie admitted. It wasn't like there was natural water anywhere, which was commonly what created life.

"We'd maybe have better luck if we could find another non-Kraang ship." Leo said, but there wasn't much hope in his voice. "Let's just check this rock out, then we can keep moving."

Donnie explored the surface, indeed keeping an eye out for mushrooms. They crossed onto the other side, the spin of gravity, the weightless nothing, providing them with more and more nothing. Donnie tried not to let the helplessness consume him, but all evidence was pointing elsewhere. A fruitless search, no definitive way to get a negative proof to tell them they were wasting their time.

"Hey D, wanna take up eating dirt again?" Leo called, from where he was knelt over and running his fingers through a pile of it.

"Again--?" Donnie replied, scandalized that Leo would insinuate such a thing, only for the words to falter and die swiftly. A red light back-lit his twin, the twitch of an approaching figure, looming.

All Donnie could manage was a chirp of sheer fear that broke past his throat.

Leo's head snapped up, looking at Donnie first, then following his gaze to whip around and see Prime striding towards them.

Chapter 7

Chapter Text

For all that Donnie had been waiting and waiting and waiting and holding his breath and waiting for this to happen, there was no way to cope with the reality, to take the surge-rush of adrenaline and actually move. His nerves were so frayed and broken, he'd skipped right to freeze instead of the far more productive fight or flight.

Luckily, in all ways that one twin faltered, the other would pick up the slack. Leo scooped up his sword and was already moving, closing the distance between himself and Donnie, markings flaring up in a flash of ninpo, sheer determination on his face -- grim and panicked at once.

"There are you are." Prime moved like lightning, blink and miss it, darting forward and rearing back sharp claws.

"Donnie!" Leo said, voice high, stumbling in his effort.

The terrified trance broke, and Donnie reached out to the hand already grasping his, the twins like planets in orbit, turning to tumble into the portal that Leo summoned.

Except Donnie felt gravity fight him, ripping him away from his twin -- yanked by the pierce of pain shooting up his leg in a tear of agony. A helpless cry escaped his mouth before he could stop it, scrambling with fingernails scratching Leo in his effort to hold on.

The safety of the blue portal vanished back to the dirt and rock and endless sky, and the blinding red light shining on him. And a smirk of pink slime, looking down -- wait up? Inverted, the dirt flew up and the sky flew down.

Warmth poured up his leg, because he was being hung upside down by the claws piercing his calf. The shock of the last few seconds had his head spinning, and he remembered to breathe, inhaling sharp.

"You are truly the most troublesome creatures I've ever encountered." Prime snarled, undoubtedly annoyed.

Donnie lurched up, yanking at the claws in his leg, breath coming quick and hot. He called backwards, voice unstable, but not capable of twisting far enough to see his twin, "Leo!"

"I'm here." Leo stepped forward, sword out, markings bright, facing down Prime with a set jaw and narrowed eyes.

Prime scoffed, but didn't have a moment to speak as Leo was already charging him, sword slashing at top speed, forcing Prime to dodge.

Donnie was jostled and unceremoniously tossed to the side. He tumbled, bashing his teeth against the rocks and splitting his teeth into his lip. Everything spun at top speed in a delay.

"Pathetic." Prime spat, somewhere to Donnie's disorientated left. He leveraged up on his elbow, heart thudding, spotting the hellion of his brother attacking Prime with everything he had. A flash of blue, of cut eyes, pouncing forward and leaping out of the way at each swing.

The sight of Leo fighting Prime again had Donnie's heart lurching. His leg was a dead weight, the ankle twisted in a way that made his stomach drop and the damp gush of blood making the world swim.

Donnie had to help, even if he couldn't move and he couldn't run. He drew from the battery inside him, the one that felt like atoms moving in a battery, but maybe also like the burst in his chest when he laughed, the bubbles that popped when he stimmed, like family -- and summoned a purple glock.

"Back, L!" Donnie called, waiting the moment for Leo to take the cue and dance backwards. Just in time for Prime to step into that space, which Donnie filled with screaming violet bullets. Putting all the fury and fear into the construction, into the composition of gunpowder summoned by sheer force of will, because Donnie was sheer force of will. He was stubbornness and pride and winning. He would win. He shot the f*cker in his stupid face, sending him stumbling back two steps.

"Sorry, can't stay to chat!" Leo called, flying back into a handspring that flung him into a portal. "Dinner date to keep, you know how it is --"

Leo appeared beside Donnie in a flash of blue, the gun still up and fixed on Prime.

"You can't run forever!" Prime roared, a burst of dust as he charged at them once more. Another bullet bit his face, Donnie's determined glare down the sight of the weapon. "Once I get that sword, you'll see--"

His words dissolved as Leo swallowed them in a portal, the flood of blue ninpo as welcome as the hands clutching him tight.

The landing wasn't very soft. Donnie arched up, inhaling hard, the world still spinning. Purple crystals bursting and disappearing.

"Sorry, sorry, one more jump. I didn't wanna go straight back in case he managed to tag along." Leo muttered. "Do you need me to wait a second?"

"Go." Donnie said, through gritted teeth.

Another flip-flop of his stomach. The world tilted and settled onto burlap. Donnie pulled his leg up to his chest, shaking as he felt the slippery blood and -- and --

"Don't touch." Leo breathed. "Your hands aren't clean."

"Neither are yours." Donnie hissed back. There was a wall of shock between him and the pain, but it was right there. He took another breath. He looked down.

First of all, his ankle was definitely twisted, if not broken. He didn't need to be a medic to know that much. Then the deep gouges were steadily leaking blood, dark trails of it in both directions -- partially up his leg, from being hung upside down, and the rest down his leg, from gravity. It didn't look real.

"When was my last tetanus shot?" Donnie said, because he hysterically remembered listening to Leo's infodump on the subject in the middle of the night a few months ago.

He'd been trying to break the tension, however Leo took him completely seriously. "I gave you a tetanus shot less than a year ago, when you stepped on a nail at the scrap yard. We need to stop the bleeding."

"Awesome." Donnie breathed, because he was just as aware as Leo that they had absolutely nothing sterile to put on it. "What's the plan?"

Leo's shaking hands flew to his head and he stood there staring at Donnie's leg for a moment, breathing hard. He said, "I don't -- you could get an infection if we use any of this stupid fabric."

"Boil it?" Donnie suggested.

"Ten minutes at least before it would be anything useful." Leo's hands twitched desperately towards Donnie but then tucked them back towards his plastron, expression agonized. "Do you feel like bleeding out for ten minutes?"

"I'm not bleeding out." Donnie scoffed, utterly breathless. Maybe a little light-headed.

"You're sure as hell not bleeding in." Leo snapped, chest heaving. Then shook his head. "Why can't I think? I need to make a decision. f*ck, f*ck, f*ck."

"Use the fabric right now. Then boil something for after." Donnie told him, making his voice as firm as he could when he felt like he was being repeatedly dunked underwater.

"You're the one who has the power to boil, and you're injured. And we're away from him, but who knows how far? What if he sees the steam?" Leo said, and stalked away from Donnie, smacking his own head in frustration.

"Stop that." Donnie decided he was done waiting and grabbed some burlap that didn't look too burnt and braced it on either side of the punctures to press down.

Ah. There was the pain. A cry broke past, bit back as quickly as he made it, but Leo was already whirling around.

"Stop freaking out." Donnie repeated, meeting his eye with his manufactured steel, pushed through gritted teeth. "Where's my medic? You never lose your cool like this."

"I'm not a medic!" Leo replied, eyes wild, stumbling as he came to kneel beside his twin and take over the pressure since it was already started. "I'm just some stupid kid who's dragged you in here to get an infection and die."

"I'll remind you that you did zero dragging me anywhere." Donnie said, trying very hard to sound like he had any semblance of control in this moment. He needed Leo to think this wasn't as bad as it was.

Leo ignored him, settling to pull Donnie's leg into his lap and applying careful, steady pressure.

Okay. They couldn't both lose it. Donnie breathed in a steady cycle, trying to push back the panicky shock-fear that the pain was shooting up in hot waves, trying to calm down enough to make Leo stop freaking out. He sucked the blood of his mouth from where he'd smacked his lip against his teeth, the taste of it turning his stomach. It wasn't like he really could afford more blood loss at the moment, with how much was pooled on the ground and soaking the burlap.

Stop looking at the blood. Donnie looked at Leo instead, his twin a little scuffed but otherwise whole and unharmed. The bruise on the side of his face still the same yellow-green. Their breathing was syncing up, so Donnie kept his steady and slow.

"Leonardo." Donnie said, when he was confident both of them actually had air in their lungs.

"Donatello." Leo replied, with only a little shake in his voice this time.

"You're the medic. Ask me all your questions. Come on, I know they're rattling around in that hamster wheel brain somewhere."

Leo didn't smile. But he did move, bracing one side of the injury with his knee to keep the pressure and freeing up a hand. He touched Donnie's toes and said, "Can you feel that?"

"Yes." Donnie relaxed, in more ways than one. At Leo being more himself, and at the fact that he genuinely still could feel that.

"I can see the blood on your chin, did you bite your tongue?"

Donnie inspected the wound and despite the repeated flood of copper in his saliva, he was pretty sure it was just his teeth having made a wonderful mark. "Just smacked my lip."

"Did you knock your head on the way down?" Leo's voice started to level out a little bit. He went through his concussion questions, which was extra fun when neither of them knew what day it was.

They moved onto setting his ankle. Hard to determine without an x-ray, but going through Leo's checklist they crossed their fingers that it was only twisted and Leo cracked it back into place. Donnie let himself swear as loud as he wanted, because it was an acceptable substitute to screaming. At least he knew it was coming. Leo told him to stay off it as much as he could. Donnie would be happy to, as long as no aliens started chasing him again.

"Do you feel like you could boil some water?" Leo asked, much calmer, glancing around their feeble little cave.

"I think I can manage that." Donnie was still more breathless from the pain than he really wanted, and the cold atmosphere felt nice on the wound even if it did make the ache feel every inch of how deep it was.

They shuffled around. Donnie held the pressure while Leo fetched the pot and some ice, and then they traded back again so Donnie could run his purple ninpo camping stove.

The first batch was for drinking. Donnie was eager to get the taste of blood out of his mouth, but Leo looked vaguely ill and shook his head when offered the pot.

"You finish it." Leo said. "I'm fine. I had some earlier."

Donnie stared at him. "Don't be an idiot."

"But I'm so good at it." Leo grinned, all his teeth. "Okay, okay, here give it then."

They juggled the pot, the pressure on Donnie's leg, and Leo took a few sips. Then he offered the pot back and Donnie wasn't even sure if he'd even taken any into his mouth.

"Finish it." Leo insisted, and there was a touch of desperation in his voice.

Donnie caved, if only because it was easier, and there was more ice if Leo got thirsty later. He finished the batch and they started again, this time cutting up the burlap and boiling it for over ten minutes.

Then waited for it to cool down enough to place against Donnie's skin. He stared at the float of steam. Leo was just so eerily quiet, even if he was calm now. That near-distant stare over Donnie's shoulder. His hands kept a constant pressure, keeping Donnie's leg in his lap, like he was holding it hostage. It made him think of wrestling on the bedroom floor, trying to flip the other, laughing until Splinter banged on the door for them to keep it down or he'd miss his show.

"What are you thinking about?" Donnie asked, because that stare was haunting him a little, and it wasn't the first time he wished he could crawl inside Leo's head with him. Middle of the night, insomniac eyes on the ceiling when Donnie rolled over, the easy lie falling from his lips when asked.

"Just thinking." Leo said, shaking his head. "How's the pain?"

It was a hot scary feeling catching his breath at the crest of every inhale, the knowledge of the claws piercing him, the knowledge of infection and the floppy useless ankle that had swelled up even after Leo set it. The actual physical pain sucked, but Donnie could survive that. It was more what the pain meant for their future. He didn't want to be a burden.

"It's kind of like when I stepped on that nail." Donnie said, because that same intrusive bad wrong-wrong-wrong sensation from a foreign material piercing your body. "Except maybe a bit worse."

"Maybe." Leo agreed, a tad weak. "Okay. This'll probably hurt, please don't hit me."

Donnie rolled his eyes, crossing his arms and digging his nails into his arms to avoid the temptation.

Leo braced the ankle first in longer straps, clinical and cool about it. Then he splashed water on his own hands before gently pulling the piece away from his wound, careful and slow. Using a scrap from the pot, he cleaned the skin surrounding before gently irrigating with the cool boiled water. Donnie kept quiet, turning his eyes up to the ceiling and breathing through his nose with purpose. Pain raced up and down his nerves, hot and panicked. He thought about hitting Leo for the bit. He didn't.

"I need to pack the wound, it's really wide." Leo said quietly. "I'm sorry, it'll hurt a lot."

"Okay." Donnie agreed, head tipped back, still keeping that even breathing.

He thought he was ready. But the pain was indeed a lot. He didn't look, not interested in what 'packing' the wound meant. It had Donnie's eyes fluttering in a way he didn't like, the world going grey and ears ringing quiet at first then louder and louder and louder and --

Passing out felt seriously gross. Like, whole body disgusting. Everything terrible and sh*t and Donnie didn't want to have a physical form so damn bad at this moment, because it was just the worst.

Then he remembered that Leo was there, and if he just passed out, he had left Leo alone. Before he'd even regained sight in his eyes or swum past the static of his ears, Donnie was reaching out for Leo.

Leo was right there, catching his grip. Donnie squeezed his hands, delirious and half-present but trying to convey it was okay.

"It's done, I'm done." Leo promised, nearby, a million miles away. Squeezing back, intent and hard and a little shaky. "I'm sorry. Keep breathing, bud. You held out much longer than I would've, probably."

"Not true." Donnie rasped. "You're a badass motherf*cker too."

Leo gave a gravelly laugh and pressed his forehead against their intertwined hands. "Yeah. You're right. We're two badass motherf*ckers."

"Of course I'm right." Donnie blinked at the ceiling, apparently prone now. His leg hurt. It hurt a lot, in a way that made it hard to think about anything else. He'd really love to have some painkillers, right about now.

"You weren't out long." Leo told him, sitting back up, like he could hear what Donnie was thinking. "But I'd stay down for a bit. It'll help your blood pressure."

"I've got nowhere else to be." Donnie said. "You should get comfy with me, though."

"Ah yes. Comfy." Leo replied, all scratchy sarcasm. But he complied, shuffling around to gather Donnie in his lap, letting his leg stay straightened out. They discussed how it should be elevated with their limited resources and ended up piling some of their pathetic scrap resources underneath.

"How's it feel?" Leo asked, like the worrying mother hen he was.

"Fantastic." Donnie said. "That was sarcasm, by the way."

"I caught that, funny enough."

"Just making sure you're keeping up with the times, dearest brother." Donnie blindly reached up to pat his cheek.

A moment passed, and Leo said, "Really, though."

"Really, really." Donnie sighed. "It's not ideal. But I think we've done the best with the resources we have. Don't you?"

That same stupid too-quiet Leo. He was thumbing at the mark on Donnie's shoulder. When he twisted up to look at his face, Donnie saw that he looked lost and troubled.

"I'm okay." Donnie added, tilting his voice up to be as reassuring as possible.

There was such a deep set tiredness on Leo, like the bags were dug under his eyelids, like he was carrying a very heavy weight and he could not put it down. When he looked down at Donnie it was all broken and sad and nothing at all like his Leo, his twin, it just... it hurt more than his stupid f*cking leg.

"I'm sorry I lost my cool earlier." Leo said, the words slow and sore.

"Literally what are you even apologizing for?" Donnie still had his hand on his cheek and gave him a little pinch just where his red stripe began. "I lost my cool too, I froze when he showed up."

Leo shook his head. "It's not the same."

Donnie didn't have the energy to argue with him. He felt cold all over, wracked with a shiver. It must've been the blood loss.

"Your fingers are freezing." Leo took his hand from his face, holding it between both of his. He rubbed either side, leaning over to blow a burst of warmer breath on it.

"I can't even feel them." Donnie admitted, because even as Leo tried to warm them up it generated absolutely no feeling.

"Hm." Leo didn't sound pleased, and kept working on his fingers, switching to the other side after a while.

Donnie couldn't feel his toes either, but he didn't volunteer that. He stared at his feet as his twin took care of him, one leg bandaged with the worst supplies ever, thinking about the death sentence this was. Forget looming threat of infection, how was he meant to run if they were caught?

Something about Schrodinger's twins being both alive and dead until you open the prison dimension. But left there long enough, it was safe to assume you'd already know the answer.

[]

Mikey struggled awake, unsure and a little scared. When he blinked and resolved the world into shapes, it was to the unsettling sight of the med bay. For a moment, he thought 'who's hurt??' then he felt his entire body and realized. Ah.

He was so sore, like he pulled every muscle at once. His arms hurt so bad it wasn't funny. There was a floaty, sickening feeling in his brain, and he didn't know what happened.

Mikey fought the cottony web holding him down to turn his head. He was expecting to see Leo, hovering with his best bedside smile, smoothing a hand over Mikey's head and whispering that he was doing a great job.

He wanted Leo. He wanted Leo with such a strong sense that it overwhelmed him, scary-breathless, as if he already knew before he remembered.

Because then he remembered. And tears immediately rushed, falling from the corner of his eyes when he blinked rapidly against the sensation.

"My son." There were light, solemn footsteps, and Splinter pulled himself up to get close enough to take Mikey's hand in both of his.

"Dad." Mikey croaked, devastated.

"Oh, my son." Splinter repeated, aching with him, leaning over to kiss his fingers. They were wrapped in tight white bandages. They burnt like fire. "How do you feel?"

Never mind that. "Where -- did they -- are the twins -- ?"

The agony on Splinter's face told him everything he needed to know. His dad said, "Take a deep breath for me, my Orange."

Mikey couldn't breathe. He really couldn't, because -- they were --

Without even really trying, there was a flutter of electricity up his arms, and Mikey cried out in pain. He drew in ragged breath after ragged breath, Dad whispering encouragements in his ear, staying close. Summoning someone over.

"Hey, Master Michelangelo." Casey's smile was tired and care-worn. "You gotta watch the ninpo, okay? You really tore yourself up."

Another blink and a fresh round of tears. He croaked, "Where's Raphie?"

"I can get him." Casey assured Splinter, then left the room swiftly.

Mikey tipped his head back, feeling the leak of emotion in its relentless pour. How even the thought of Leo and Donnie and a prison dimension produced a bubble-pop of magma inside him, horrified and crushed and -- damn it, why couldn't he save them? Why wasn't he strong enough?

He couldn't catch his breath. It kept hitching in his throat, choking on it, and he wanted Donnie sit beside him and count in his cool, unbothered monotone. He wanted Donnie to be there. He wanted --

Mikey wanted so much.

Casey returned with Raph, who flew to his bedside with wild, worried eyes. "Hey, hey, I've got you, I've got you. You're okay."

Mikey definitely wasn't okay. But at least he was able to have one of the brothers he wanted so desperately, crawling up to tuck himself neatly into Raph's swallowing arms, sobbing earnestly into his plastron. Hiccuping and desperate, because -- because --

"Raphie." Mikey managed through punching sobs. "Raphie, they can't -- they can't, they can't, they can't..."

A wounded noise in the back of Raph's throat. He curled all the way around Mikey and his voice cracked when he said, "I'm sorry."

Prickles of pain erupted up his arms when he knocked them into Raph's plastron to try and move, crawling fire. He whimpered at the sensation, but pushed through, "We gotta -- we gotta try again. We can get it this time. We can."

An uncomfortable silence. Raph held him, unmoving, big warm hands and stuttering breath.

"Raph." Mikey said, despite the burning fire feeling washed with ice cold, all the way to his bones. "We have to drag them out of there. We can't leave them --"

"I know." Raph rumbled, and there was deep, thick confliction in his voice. "But --"

"There is no but." Mikey tried to push back from Raph's hold, then immediately regretted the movement, shooting a lightning bolt of agony up his arms and making his heart go fluttery and light from the path crossing his chest. A cry broke past and he tucked both arms close to himself, breathing hard.

"As much as I hate to agree with anything Baron Draxum said." Splinter spoke, grim and heartbroken, hovering closer at his cry of pain. "You cannot try again, Michelangelo."

"Bullsh*t." Mikey snapped. "I can and I will."

"He said it'll kill you, Mikes." Raph whispered.

Mikey should've felt more fear at the concept, instead of the punch-punch-punch of annoyance that something as stupid as mortality was going to stop him from saving his brothers. "How does he know? Maybe I can."

"Because it almost killed you, Mikey." Raph said, pained. Cradling his destroyed hands.

"Because it does kill you in my time." Casey contributed, not sounding happy about having to break that news.

Denial fought a war inside him. Mikey didn't want to believe it, not for a second.

He couldn't help this snapping anger, dangerous like a caged animal, snarling at the people who were stopping him from tearing the world apart to save his brothers.

It was all his could think about was when Leo and Donnie could get a bit running that had Mikey laughing until he was sick, or Raph carting a twin under each arm effortlessly like they were just baggage to cart around, or the photo pinned to the fridge that Raph took with shaky fingers of a young dad Splinter sleeping with a twin curled on either side of him.

There was no way they were gone. Mikey would rather die than accept that there wouldn't be any laughter, any twins for Raph to wrangle or Splinter to fuss over. It just wasn't possible. It was just -- Mikey couldn't --

Pissed off and crying was such a sh*t combination, it felt corrosive and crushing and hard to breathe and if Raph wasn't holding him so tenderly and tight he might've just exploded and died right there. Because. Because...

There was a huge hole in their family. Gaping, terrible, and insurmountable. There would be no coming back from that. Mikey could feel it, with his whole heart, everything inside him that they could not survive the loss of both of them.

Leo, the medic, leader, strategist, the sly grin but also the shy smile, terrible jokes, skateboard tricks, 2AM conversations and catching Mikey every single time he ran at him full speed.

Donnie, the brains, inventor, cynical, attentive, scathing but also cared more than anyone, loyal to the damn bone, lover of drama and dancing with Mikey in the kitchen.

Not them.

"Raph." Mikey pleaded, because Leo was the leader and Leo wasn't there, so that fell to Raph. He had to -- he had to understand, because he was their big brother, he'd spent his whole time trying to keep those damn twins alive, he had to be on Mikey's side.

But when Mikey pulled back enough to see Raph's face, there was a storm, a hurricane of confliction, twisted and unsettled. He said, strangled, "I don't know, Mikes. I don't--"

The cut off was choked. He buried his face in Mikey's shoulder, clinging closer to him, shaking. It was hell to see his pillar of a brother broken down, but of course he would be.

"Please." Mikey said, wrapping his arms all the way around Raph's head and squeezing hard. He whispered in his ear. "We have to try, Raph, please."

"I don't know, I don't know." Raph repeated, helpless and constricted.

"Boys." Splinter came closer to their tortured entanglement, a soft hand on either arm. He looked... He didn't look very well.

"Raph doesn't know how he's 'spose to decide." Raph shuddered all over.

"You're not." Splinter said, firm. "I'm deciding."

Mikey cut his eyes up, fear lodged in his chest. The grave tone Splinter took on did not bode well. He said, "Dad, please -- you --"

"Let me rephrase, sweetness." Splinter's eyes spoke volumes of sadness and gravity, taking Mikey's hand in his. "I have already decided."

"Pops." Raph spoke up, sounding a little like he was actively drowning. The single word was all he said, imploring, scared, lost.

Then Splinter said, "You will not try again."

"You're sentencing them to death." Mikey accused, wild with it, feeling cornered and furious and --

"Find another way." Splinter shook his head. "I believe you can find another way. We will not trade one life for another."

"For two others." Mikey reminded, snapping. "For both of them."

"Your lives are not currency." Splinter swallowed, and his bottom lip was wobbling.

Mikey knew this wasn't easy for Splinter to put his foot down on, he could feel the empathetic waves of despair from his father, it was just that his own emotions were so loud and overwhelming and -- and it was his fault that he couldn't just --

Angry, hateful words bubbled behind his tongue and Mikey bit them all back. He understood the decision, even if he disagreed with it. There was no point in lashing out, it wouldn't solve anything. He held on tighter to Raph, feeling the crackles of hurt in his injured arms, but mostly he could feel how Raph was falling apart.

"Give us a minute, okay?" Mikey said, not quite taming the anger in his tone.

"Of course." Splinter looked worried, but did not deny the request, taking Casey with him when he left the room.

The door shut and sealed them in a perfect bubble. Mikey focused on snuggling Raph's head, trying to calm his big brother down. The trembling wouldn't stop. Maybe because Mikey was shaking too and it was impossible to tell where it ended and began.

A stretch of silence, like a lull in traffic. The med bay smelt that sharp too-clean and the lights too bright. Mikey stared at the side of Raph's face and wondered and wondered and kept the thoughts in his own head for all of two minutes.

"What would you have chosen?" Mikey asked.

Raph ducked his head. "It doesn't matter. We'll have to find another way."

"Raphie." Mikey said, quiet.

His head stayed down. He shivered and held both of Mikey's arms, just above where the bandages were protecting the shattered skin. The gauged out flesh, or at least that's what it felt like.

"I don't know." Raph repeated, with such sheer helplessness it ached. "I really, really don't know."

Disappointment fluttered through, because in this case, inaction was death. He wished Raph would make up his mind, because the twins taught them a long time ago that you could do anything as long as no one could stop you.

"We'll have to find another way." Raph said, and he sounded a little unsure.

"Yeah." Mikey said, and he was definitely unsure. There was just... he could do it. He knew he could. If only the pain wasn't a car battery attached to each fingertip.

"Do you think --" Raph cut himself off, visibly biting his tongue.

"Of course they're okay." Mikey said, loud, because he knew what Raph was thinking as he was thinking the same thing. And he believed it with all his heart. "They have each other."

Raph's red eyes met his. He repeated, audibly aching, “They have each other.”

Chapter 8

Chapter Text

They were trying to survive. The world was hazy and cold, a layer of frost encrusted over his skin. A precipice before them, hanging on by his fingertips.

Donnie could've pulled himself up, if he had a free hand, but he didn't. The other was holding onto Leo by the wrist, the two of them dangling over a void, an endless nothing.

The tug of gravity should've clued Donnie that this was a dream. But of course, when absorbed in the narrative of the fickle subconscious, it was impossible to untangle. He was in a prison dimension with his twin. Infallible logic, immediately accepted.

They were going to die. And Donnie refused to let go of him, even as Leo's charming mouth spun webs and stories of why it would be better if he did, that he could pull himself up, that the dead weight would be gone, that the problems would be eliminated. Like a cartoon mouth, rolling over and over as a motor, almost relentless in its task of destroying.

"We can't both make it." Leo said, and the pantomime of his smile in his dreams was cruel in the plastic intensity, just a touch too-wide. "You can't pull yourself up with me here. You have to let go of me."

"No." Donnie said, and it was desperate, he didn't know how to win. He held on so tight. He was never going to let go.

But Leo was always thinking ahead of him. Donnie had never won a chess game against him. Even when he felt like he'd gained ground, he'd discover he hadn't thought far enough ahead.

The haunting smile did not fade as Leo reached up with his sword, marking lighting up. Then he portal chopped his own arm off, sending dropping him into the void with no possible way for Donnie to stop him. He could hold on as tightly as he wanted, it didn't matter, Donnie couldn't win.

The sight of his twin vanishing into nothing had him gasping awake, the sharp inhale burning past his sore, split mouth. Back into his separate hell, spots of inky darkness resolving into Leo's worried face hovering over him.

"Leonardo!" Donnie said, affronted, and with slightly trembling hands he whacked his brother repeatedly on the plastron.

"Ow, what, what?" Leo grabbed his hands.

"How dare you!" Donnie snarled.

Leo's shoulders fell and a tiny, helpless smile twitched on his otherwise worried and annoyed face. "Donnie, I've told you a thousand times, you're not allowed to be pissed at me for things I do in your dreams."

"You suck." Donnie told him, heart still pounding at the sight of Leo swallowing his own arm in a portal and cutting it off. "You suck, you suck, you suck."

"I haven't done anything!" Leo complained, but made no move to dislodge from holding Donnie in his lap.

"Haven't done anything. Bah!" Donnie scoffed, incredulous.

"What did I do, then?" Leo asked. And. Well.

The stupid thing was that Donnie didn't want to tell him. Not because he was ashamed of his subconscious or anything -- he'd told Leo some of the stupidest dreams of all time, in detail. But because... he didn't want to give Leo any ideas.

"You're an idiot." Donnie told him, and wiped at the drool only to pull back his hand and see it was actually blood from resplitting his mouth. Urgh. His stomach rolled at the sight, and he struggled out of Leo's grip so he could sit up and hunch over his mid section.

Hunger was unignorable. It was a river craving out the bank on either side, hollowing him out from the inside. The tremor in his hands felt like weakness, all the strength zapped from his empty inside. He sucked on the bloody lip and the coppery saliva turned his otherwise empty stomach.

"How do you feel?" Leo asked, a hand on his shell. Annoyingly, his battle shell had despawned in his sleep again.

His leg was on fire. If the hunger was an alarm clock blaring, then the pain in his wounded leg was a fire alarm. Ear splitting and relentless. So Donnie said, "I could go for a burger."

"A burger." Leo repeated, brow raising. "You've never finished a burger in your life."

That was true. They were too greasy and the thought often made him queasy. Sometimes he'd order a burger and eat about half, usually because he was craving pickles and the burger was a vessel for pickles.

"That is true. However the fact that I cannot have a burger right now makes it sound like the most delicious thing on the planet."

"Heh." Leo said, and gently tugged Donnie to lay back down. "I'll get right on that. How about your leg? Does it still hurt?"

Like nothing else Donnie had ever felt before. Maybe it was just the complete lack of any painkillers -- most injuries were dosed with at least Tylenol by now. Donnie wasn't used to languishing in his agonies, and it may have made him a bit of a baby about it.

That was why he didn't tell Leo, because there wasn't anything he could do about it regardless. "It is fine."

Leo heaved a loud, annoyed sigh. "You're the worst patient in the world."

"Alright, excuse me, hypocrite."

"I can tell it hurts." Leo replied, and there was an ache in his own tone. Pulled from him, thin and thready.

Donnie pouted, just a little. "How?"

"How? Come on, D." Leo poked him directly in the middle of his forehead, and the ache coloured all over. "I can tell when you're in pain. Can you rate it on a scale of one to ten for me?"

"Zero." Donnie lied, blatantly, aware it wasn't going to hold up and being difficult on principle.

Another sigh, and Leo poked him more intently. "You suck."

"Takes one to know one." Donnie replied, mostly for a lack of a better response.

"Alright, genius. Will you chillax? Just work with me here."

"What good would the answer be?" Donnie prompted. "It's not as if anything you can do will help."

That made a funny emotion flicker over Leo's face. Then he scoffed, and played up an eye roll. "Because I'm gathering statistics, Donatello, I thought you'd appreciate that. I need to know where you're at right now so we can determine if you're improving or deteriorating."

"I'm fine." Donnie said, clearing his throat, and taking another moment to try and stop his mouth from bleeding.

Leo scoffed, shoulders up and tense. He looked tired, from the bad angle Donnie had of him. Bruise-like bags under his eyes that looked just a little dull, a little lifeless. There was no sweet smile on his face -- not even a pretend plastic one, just a distracted scowl along with the worried furrow of his brow. A streak of blood was dabbed on his neck, most likely Donnie's, along with that layer of grime that dimmed his usually perfect complexion. There was a line of fingernail scratches down his left arm.

"You look like sh*t." Donnie told him.

Leo's gaze snapped down, and he immediately stretched out the word in complaint, "Dude!"

"You do." Donnie reached up and thumbed the treacherous bags underneath his eyes. "How long was I asleep?"

Leo shifted, rearranging his legs that were Donnie's pillow, and shrugged. "You need rest to recover. But we need to keep an eye on you, to make sure you don't develop an infection. Do you feel feverish?"

It was hard to tell, with the prevalent cold all around them. Mostly he felt eternally distracting pain, burrowed into the meat and muscle of his left leg. When he stretched out his toes a bolt of it shot up his nerve and he winced visibly.

Leo's expression darkened rapidly, that worry growing into something more like alarm. "D."

"I'm fine." Donnie insisted, in a robotic voice, pushed through his teeth because it was growing too hard to keep up the lie that they both knew was a lie.

"Scale of one to ten. For the data collection." Leo countered, persistent.

Donnie sighed. He dragged himself up, trying to sit. Leo's hands hovered on his arms, supporting and helping him shift to rest beside him, back against the cave wall. It radiated cold, sucking any warmth he'd gleaned from snuggling with his twin while asleep. A shiver ran up his spine, but he didn't back down.

Leo's gaze was that resolute and dark concern, eyes flickering from Donnie's face to his leg repeatedly. He had to answer, for the data collection. Curses that Leo always knew how to win, that Donnie could recognize his plays but never how to counter them.

The worst thing was that Donnie couldn't actually imagine it hurting worse than this. Growing up and roughhousing with his brothers, training in the dojo, even fighting out on the streets -- bruises and contusions were common, but he didn't frequently have to deal with deep, visceral wounds with no pain treatment.

Despite the cold, a line of sweat was on his brow from struggling with the sensation of it all. Donnie didn't enjoy the relationship with his body in the first place, always feeling disconnected and separated and unaware of the connections between feelings and sensations and emotions.

Introspection was hard. Donnie didn't know the right answer, and he hated not knowing the right answer. He heard himself speak, not really intending to be so honest, but it was just Leo. "I don't know how to answer."

The annoyance smoothed away. Leo hummed and gave it a little thought. "Okay. I get that. I just want to know so we can keep track of your progress, so the actual number doesn't really matter. Just that I want you to have assigned a number to this pain so you can report to me if it gets higher or lower."

Donnie relaxed a little. It hurt, a lot, but if they were to put pressure on it then it would definitely hurt more. So he said, "Seven."

"Thank you." Leo sounded sincere. "How's your energy levels? Do you think you could boil some water?"

Donnie didn't know exactly how long he'd been asleep, but judging by the crawl of thirst in his dry throat it had been a pretty long time. That meant Leo would be thirsty too, especially since water was the only thing they had to provide their body. "I can do it."

Leo shuffled out from beside him, leaving a ghost of warmth that quickly disappeared. Donnie pulled his good leg up to hug, and watched his twin walk away, moving outside to fetch their stored ice.

Donnie's heart beat double the whole time Leo was out of his sight. The pulse of it seemed to centre in his leg instead of his chest. It was bizarre and uncomfortable and distracting.

The cadence didn't slow even when Leo returned, setting up everything so Donnie didn't have to move. Bringing the pot, chopping the ice with his sword into smaller pieces and setting it beside him, within arm's reach.

Donnie summoned his ninpo construct and pumped it full of energy. The ice sizzled and melted. Water was made. Donnie stared at it pooling at the bottom of the pot and thought for what felt like the hundredth time about how the creation of this water was only possible with the combination of their two skill-sets. They were only capable of surviving together. What would Leo have done if he'd been here alone?

The water boiled. Leo added more ice in chunks, letting the pot fill up. The steam in their faces was a welcome warmth. Both of them were chilled to the bone and hovered shaking fingers over the pot to absorb more heat.

"How long do you think it's been?" Leo asked, breaking their vigil over the boiling pot. His eyes were far away.

Donnie had a relatively good sense of time. Even considering the periods he'd spent asleep, he could at least make a ballpark estimate. "Four days. If you mean since we got in here."

"Yeah." Leo agreed. "What do you think the others are doing?"

The immediate answer that came to mind was: mourning us. But that wasn't correct, and Donnie knew it. He voiced the real answer, "Looking for us."

"I'm worried about that." Leo said.

Donnie raised a brow, mildly surprised by that response. "Elaborate?"

Leo sighed, leaning back and his gaze was still somewhere nowhere nearby, eons away. "If they do find a way to break us out, what if they let the Kraang out too?"

Donnie considered this fear. Then came to the reasonable conclusion, "Nothing we can say or do will stop them from trying, even if we could communicate with them. There is no point in being afraid of that outcome. If it happens, we will burn that bridge when we come to it."

A smile just barely tweaked the corner of Leo's mouth. "Don't you mean 'cross'?"

"I mean everything I say." Donnie said, letting himself sound a little pompous just for fun. "Besides, why would I cross a bridge when burning it is so much more fun?"

Donnie was extremely rewarded with a low chuckle from his twin. When Leo met his eyes, he was in the room with him this time. Leo said, "You're right."

"I'm always right." Donnie agreed.

Leo shook his head, smile still playing a small symphony that made it all worth it. "I just mean, you're right that there's no point in worrying about it. I just. There's not much else to do, I guess."

The water had boiled for long enough and Donnie let his ninpo subside, feeling his whole body relax at the loss of sustained effort. He took a moment to breathe, curled over his good leg, feeling the crush of everything for a moment. The faithful still present pain. The ache of hunger that felt like a blistering headache and knotted fist in his middle. The drain of power from a dripping resource.

"You okay?" Leo said.

"Stop fussing." Donnie replied.

"Sorry." Leo didn't sound sorry.

The pot steamed. It was too hot to drink. Donnie wanted to drink it very badly. He sighed, leaning back against the cave wall and trying to not feel like a huge bitch. That was the hunger, probably. It was draped over everything.

Donnie wondered what starving to death felt like. Did it feel like this?

"Tello." Leo said.

Donnie really didn't want to starve to death. But he also really didn't want Leo to either. Four days in hell and no sign that there was any escape. Or any food.

"Hey." Leo insisted, leaning into his sight-line. "Stop it."

"I'm not doing anything." Donnie replied in a perfect monotone. His leg hurt. It hurt it hurt it hurt.

"What was the game you were playing last weekend?"

Donnie's brow scrunched, confused. "What?"

"The game you were playing. I came and hung out and you were playing some game. What was it?"

Oh, video game. Donnie had spent the whole last weekend in the lab obsessively playing Breath of the Wild until he hundred-percented it. Leo had shown up at about ten PM on Saturday night and hung out in the spare chair set aside specifically for him, scrolling Tiktok's on his phone and laughing at Donnie every time he blundered to his death. He'd stayed the whole night, following Donnie like a lost puppy when he finally went to bed and continuing to scroll on his phone even as Donnie went to sleep, dreaming of Korok seeds.

"It was a Legend of Zelda game." Donnie said, the warmth and comfort of home bleeding away and leaving him in the current reality of cold dark pain. The only constant of Leo's eyes framed in red stripes and blue fabric staring faithfully back at him.

"What's the Legend of Zelda?" Leo prompted.

"You're trying to distract me." Donnie accused.

"Duh-doy." Leo replied. "Hit me. Go. Lore dump. I wanna hear it."

"Your funeral." Donnie said, then told him absolutely everything he knew about the Legend of Zelda, which was a lot.

They drank the water when it was just barely below boiling, the warmth of it like a hot cup of tea, if a hot cup of tea tasted like sh*t. But taste wasn't important, it was the momentary bliss of pouring warmth down his throat chilled by the cold air. Settling heat into his middle and unthawing just a touch. And he kept telling Leo about Zelda and Link and Ganon, even though he was fairly sure that Leo knew some of it already. His twin didn't complain, listening and settling beside him again. Leaning his head back, breathing slow and even.

But he did not fall asleep. Donnie had hoped he might, but not even the drone of an infodump could lull him to sleep.

When he ran out of words, he stayed still, hoping Leo might fall asleep anyway. But shortly after, Leo was inhaling and shifting back up. "Still fretting?"

"Psh." Donnie said. He'd thought too much about Hyrule to remember what he'd been hung up on. Stupid twin brother knowing him inside out.

Leo smirked, a little self-satisfied and aware, before pushing off the wall and crouching at Donnie's outstretched leg, elevated just off the ground with as many scraps as they could spare to pile. "How's it feel?"

"Seven." Donnie reported. The pain had not moved, it stubbornly remained the same.

"Do you think you could suffer through me checking on it?"

"Mmm." Donnie wasn't exactly enthusiastic, because that would mean cleaning it again, and that would hurt. And the effort of boiling water again sounded exhausting.

But it would not heal if he ignored it, and he would not deny Leo when he was in medic mode. He steeled himself, aware that he could endure any pain, it was mind over matter. And he had a very genius mind. "Alright."

They boiled more ice for water. Leo gently inspected Donnie's leg, stretching it out over his lap to avoid jostling the braced ankle. He carefully touched the fabric. "It's still a little damp."

"Is that good or bad?" Donnie asked.

"Not sure." Leo sighed, peeling back the bandage and lighting up his markings an ocean blue to inspect closer. "Moist wound healing is supposed to be a better alternative to dry. Heals faster, less chance of infection, has a better outcome."

"But?" Donnie prompted, well aware there would be one.

"If it's done properly." Leo sounded too grim for Donnie's taste, carefully probing the skin around the puncture. It bounced back readily. "But I don't have right resources to maintain a proper healing environment. We have to watch out for prolonged exposure to drainage causing maceration, that thing where your skin turns white. Which can lead to necrosis."

"So would dry bandages be better in this case?" Donnie asked, following his train of thought readily.

Leo kept the bandages off, using insane gentleness to wipe away the fluid draining from the wound. His face was drawn and thinking. He said, "Possibly to have a dry layer overtop, at least. But it's below freezing in here, can they even dry?"

"Sublimation." Donnie provided, happy to have something at least in his domain. "If we set them up to freeze, once you knocked the ice off, it would be dry."

"Let's set some aside for later." Leo hummed. "But we'll stick with what we have for now and I'll keep an eye on it. I'm surprised these didn't freeze and subliminal."

"That would be because of my body heat. And you're thinking of subliminal messages, which is not the same thing." Donnie snorted.

"Heh. Did Mikey ever tell you about his conspiracy theory about subliminal messages in JJ 42?"

"I must've missed that one. Tell me about it."

Leo's voice filled the cave, nice and distracting as Leo redressed his bandages and checked his swollen ankle underneath the make-shift brace. Donnie shut his eyes, listening to his twin and nothing else. Not the thoughts in his head of words like infection and necrosis.

There was a reason Leo was the medic, and it wasn't entirely because Donnie had a weak stomach. It was because Leo was good at it. He was caring and compassionate and when he put his mind to it, he had studied and practiced and made himself the best damn medic in the world. And Donnie had been happy to give up the reigns on stretching his genius brain in that direction, because he didn't have to. He let Leo take the sole knowledge in this area, but Donnie had no desire to step on his specialty. His twin had it handled.

And it was a terrible thought, but Donnie was glad he was the one hurt. Because Leo had it handled, and Donnie wasn't sure he would if it was the other way around.

Leo set aside some scraps to 'dry', and Donnie dismissed his little purple stove once more, truly exhausted from the effort.

"Are you going to sleep?" Donnie asked, because it wasn't his turn.

"I'm not tired." Leo reported, settling back down and tucking Donnie under his arm. "It hasn't been that long since I slept last. If you're tired, you should rest."

Donnie's brow tightened, because it wasn't fair. "You need to replenish your power too."

"Nah." Leo flapped a hand, dismissive. "I did, what, two portals? Besides, it's not like I'm running around the city or anything. It's restful to sit here with you too."

Donnie doubted that, because he knew that Leo would be on guard the whole time Donnie was asleep. Plus he was well aware how tortured his own thoughts got during his period of watch, let alone what Leo's brain would think to torment him with. Donnie had years of experience catching just the bare minimum of what Leo was willing to share of the thoughts he had during insomniac periods, and it wasn't a pretty picture.

"Just a little rest." Donnie allowed, because even if Leo wanted to sleep now, there was no way he could keep his eyes open to fulfill his side of the bargain.

He had hoped, a little foolishly, that he might escape the pain in his sleep. However it carried into dreams with him, sitting heavy and distracting and dragging. There was something jammed into his leg. An arrow, a stick of rebar, and he was trying to pull it out.

"You gotta stop. D, you --" Leo's voice pierced his thick fog of sleep, and hands were tugging on him. "Donnie, come on."

The double layered reality resolved into one. Cave of dark and cold. Leo's hands pinning his own to his side. Donnie was hunched over, and he realized belatedly he'd been trying to claw at his own leg. He relaxed in Leo's grip when he understood what happened.

"Sorry." Donnie said, voice scratchy. The pain of his leg was having a party with the pain in his stomach, creating something just straight up miserable. He couldn't scrape his fingers down the way the wounds of his leg itched, so instead he huddled around his middle. Tears burnt the corner of his eyes but didn't fall, because it just -- it was all too much. There was no escape from how horrible it all felt, and how helpless he felt, and how much he knew this wasn't going to end well. His pessimism was singing loud and clear.

He was thinking about how Prime snuck up on them -- that they'd been out standing on the big rock and hadn't even noticed his approach. How easily he could -- he could just appear and be there. And obviously he was still looking, he still wanted to --

The breathless panic was taking over, reminding him that his ribs were still tender, how it caught the edge of air. Too sharp and not getting any oxygen to his brain. The dread seeping in all his pores.

Everything was spinning. Vertigo to the max, squeezing his eyes shut harder against the feeling. Was it the injury or the hunger? Donnie was scared. He hated feeling like he didn't have control, and this helplessness was agony.

The cacophony of torments was overwhelming. He reached for the single comfort he had, raising a shaking hand. Leo took it immediately, squeezing.

"I've got you." Leo promised, sounding...

What Donnie heard was a complicated thing. It was a carefully provided reassurance painted in a false calm. Threaded underneath was a swim of something like intertwined guilt and despondence. It added a list to Donnie's miseries to know that Leo was also Not Having A Good Time right now.

"I'm going to touch your forehead." Leo whispered, and with the warning Donnie didn't flinch when the cool hand folded over his skin.

"Warm?" Donnie guessed, because everything felt kind of terrible.

"Not too bad." Leo hummed, but he didn't sound cheered. "But not great either."

The blistering headache from hunger might've been the culprit. Or maybe it was the terrible threat of infection, hanging over them like a guillotine.

Donnie breathed. It dragged. When he finally convinced himself to open his eyes, it was dark, just the silhouette of Leo's face profile above him. He looked deep in thought. And unfortunately, Donnie knew what he was thinking about.

"It's not a good idea." Donnie rasped.

Leo's head turned towards him. "Get out of my brain?"

Donnie squeezed the hand he was still holding. "I can still come with you."

Leo gave a humourless laugh. "You can't walk on that leg, D."

"Then I'll fly." Donnie said, determined. He didn't want Leo to leave him behind, not after he'd fought so hard the first time.

"You've barely had the energy to boil water." Leo reported quietly. "It would be safer if you stayed here."

"And what if he comes here while you're gone?" Donnie accused, not nearly as sharp as he wanted, lacking the power to put punch into his argument.

That did quiet Leo. Because Donnie couldn't run away. If Leo left him to go look for food, he would be alone and vulnerable. Leo rubbed his forehead with his free hand, and said, "I don't know. But if we don't look for food, then we definitely won't find any."

"He's still looking for us." Donnie whispered, the image of his twin back-lit in red absolutely burnt into his retina. "Whether he finds me or you, we shouldn't be apart."

A stretched, agonized pause. Leo said, voice shaking just a little, damning, "Do you think I'd rather watch you starve to death in my arms?"

Donnie shut his eyes against the wash of emotion it invoked in him. Incomprehensible and strong. It was an impossible situation. And Leo was unfortunately right, if they didn't look, then there was a zero chance of success.

"If I'm by myself, then I can portal away immediately." Leo said, and it was a low blow. They'd only been caught on that bare rock because Leo had to take the time to fetch Donnie and take him too, and they both knew it.

And the worst part was that Donnie also knew he was going to cave, not even because he was hungry, because he knew Leo was hungry. And he wanted Leo to eat.

He hated it, because no matter what he did, no matter how many times Donnie felt like he'd won a battle, Leo would always win the war.

"You have to be careful." Donnie said, slowly, admitting defeat feeling like carving out his own heart with a butter knife. He couldn't bear to make Leo cry if he'd dug his heels in again. "If you overuse your portals and can't get back to me, I'll throw you into the sun."

All of the tension left Leo at once, and he leaned over to press his forehead against Donnie's. He was shaking. "Thank you for not fighting me on this."

He didn't want to fight. He didn't want Leo to leave him alone, either, but they had to make sacrifices. Donnie just hoped it was the right one, the one that would end with both of them making it out of here alive. He had no idea, he was flying so terrifyingly blind.

"Just come back." Donnie said, as fierce as he could make it, which wasn't very. He reached up to hold Leo's head in place, feeling the pressure. And after a moment, a drip of damp on his face.

Ah. Maybe Leo would cry anyway. Donnie said, "Dum-dum. Come here."

Leo hiccuped, and said in a wet voice, "I'm not crying."

"Of course you're not." Donnie allowed, and tugged him into as proper of a hug as they could manage. "Tell me you're coming back."

"I'm coming back." Leo promised, and it did sound like he meant it. He shuddered once, hard, where he pressed into Donnie's shoulder. And as quickly as the tears came, they were gone, like an illusion. A sleight of hand. But Donnie didn't let go yet, trying to commit the feeling of Leo nearby to memory, aware that the moment he left his sight it was going to be hell.

Nothing but the quiet breathing. Synced together, holding on. And eventually, Leo let go.

Chapter 9

Chapter Text

The hunger was all Donnie could think about.

Okay, that wasn't true. The cold was particularly annoying, seemingly no position or arrangement of the stupid burlap scraps helped to keep the warmth in. The shiver wracked his form in unsteady waves, clattering his teeth. He'd absolutely kill for a hoodie right now, a nice pair of sweatpants -- pizza supreme in the sky, he'd trade all his teeth just to have some damn socks. The cold lived in all his joints, bundled together in the toes and fingers. Aching, distracting, and a little niggling worry about frostbite. If it weren't for the whole genetically modified super-soldier thing, Donnie was pretty sure he'd have already lost a toe by now.

Then there was the pain. A steel fork impeded in his leg, the hot-hot-hot swell of his ankle that shocked a lightning bolt of pain up his whole body if he so much as twitched his foot, and the fact that in his boredom he'd resplit the cut on his inner lip about six thousand times.

But eclipsed by all of that -- the cold was TV static, the pain was something that could be grit and ignored -- the hunger had no grace. It had no ease. It was a ringing ten alarm bell, no mute, no remind me later -- each drag of breath felt like it scraped his stomach as it passed. Something almost desperate growing, wild and hurting. If someone offered him a sandwich right now he couldn't be held accountable for what he'd give up to get it.

Left alone with only his own thoughts, Donnie considered that it was likely the trade off. Dad had always said that they ate more than he ever thought possible. And it was probably to fuel that whole super-soldier thing. Donnie could withstand freezing cold temperatures and grit his teeth through unmedicated pain, but that strength had to come from somewhere, and that was likely the millions of calories of pizza they consumed without blinking an eye.

So he was hungry. And it sucked.

The other problem he hadn't anticipated when he allowed Leo to head off on his own again was the fact that Donnie was f*cking tired. Even after sleeping on and off for hours, the weight of exhaustion was still thick and pulling his eyes shut repeatedly against his will. He was alone, he had to keep watch for himself. He wasn't actually sure what the plan would be if he was caught...

Running was out. He'd gotten up to pee with Leo's help earlier and trying to put any pressure on his left leg just about tore a scream from his throat. This pathetic lump on the floor was all he had, thanks.

Fighting? Sure, but for how long? He could summon a rocket launcher, but Prime had proven over and over that he had far more constitution than they did. Fight was a stop-gap of only seconds.

That left freeze. Which Donnie had certainly done the last time, but that would only mean his death if Prime were to appear in the doorway that Donnie was staring at with as much intent as he could manage.

What about hide? Leo would be back, then he could portal Donnie away. He would only need to stay whole until then. He did have his ninpo still at his fingertips, he could create a shield. In his mind, a hexagonal bubble would work. Lock himself inside until Leo got back.

Drowsy, Donnie had to remind himself that Prime was not actually there. His brain was just, as Leo always put it, running about a mile ahead of him. He fruitlessly rearranged the scraps to try and steal a little warmth from the nothing. Palm pressed against his stomach.

How long had Leo been gone? Donnie felt like he had a pretty good sense of time, except for right now, as every second felt like an hour, and he began to wonder bad things like how long would he wait before he would realize that Leo was never coming back?

Well. If Leo didn't come back, there was very much a limit on Donnie's time as well. It wasn't like he was getting up and going anywhere himself.

Donnie sure wished he had something to distract himself from the hunger or the cold or the pain or the anxiety. But nope. Just four cave walls and a genius brain that wanted to sprint and sprint and sprint and keep going places he didn't have the energy for. Maybe relief would come in sleep, but he couldn't afford to let his guard down.

A flicker of light. Donnie felt like he woke up, heart tripping, and then the cave was filled with blue. Relief was a hot drug, rushing full throttle in his veins. It didn't even matter, for a wonderful moment, that Leo was empty-handed.

"Hey." Leo said. "Sorry."

"It's okay." Donnie reassured immediately, trying to shift up a little and wincing when he managed to pinch the sore leg in the movement. "Are you thirsty?"

"I'm okay." Leo soaked the walls in blue as he crouched beside Donnie, one hand just above his make shift bandages. "How's it feel?"

"Six." Donnie said, but if he was being honest it was less because it was feeling better and more because the pain in his stomach was beginning to eclipse the gouges in his flesh. Unfortunate.

"Hm." Leo felt Donnie's forehead again. His fingers were freezing.

"Are you cold or am I warm?" Donnie asked.

"Can't tell." Leo admitted, dropping his hand.

"Awesome." Donnie gave a thumbs up. "You didn't find anything, I'm assuming."

"Not a thing." Leo slung his hands between his legs, grimacing. "But I wanted to come back and check on you. I'd like to head out again."

"You can." Donnie said, slowly. "But I need a nap first. I was having trouble keeping my eyes open."

"Ah. Sure thing, D." Leo shuffled over and offered his legs. "Sorry. I should've thought of that."

"'sokay." Donnie immediately nuzzled into Leo's arm, the flood of relief at his twin being close better than any painkiller. "I know you want to find something to eat. I want that too. Just. Gimme like ten minutes."

"Of course." Leo said, dimming his blue ninpo and letting it fade. "Rest as long as you need, D. I won't go anywhere."

That leaked all the tension out of Donnie's shoulders. The stiff, prickled guard he had held relaxed. The swim of pain embraced him into unconsciousness. It was a drag-drag-drag, eyelids begging to be closed. And he was finally safe enough to close them. Leo's fingers settling on his inner wrist. It took his genius brain until he was nearly asleep to realize it two fingers pressed against his pulse.

"'m still alive." Donnie mumbled.

A deep inhale-exhale from above. Leo muttered, "Better keep it that way, Tello."

"I'm not going anywhere without you."

Leo's breath hitched. Instead of replying, he began to hum.

Donnie sunk into the heavy leaden feeling of his own bones and drifted to sleep.

He woke hot and sore. Time was impossible to tell. He didn't remember his dreams, except that they'd made him anxious. Leo's fingers were still on his pulse.

"Mmm." Donnie shifted, turning his face up and trying to spot Leo's expression in the dark. It was shadowed. "Hey."

"Hi." Leo said.

"I'm sorry."

Leo looked down, blinking. "For what?"

"This." Donnie tiredly flopped a hand towards his useless leg.

"Come on, bro." Leo tipped his head back against the cave wall and shut his eyes with an unfunny smile. "We knew he was gonna catch us. I'm just sorry it was you again."

Donnie stared at the line silhouette of his jaw above him. He knew exactly what his twin was implying and he completely lacked the brain power to counter it. His mind was a hot anxious soup, churning and boiling over. There was something he could say, surely, that would convince his brother not to take on this blanket of guilt, not to sit here and think that it was all his fault -- but Donnie didn't have the power to take what he knew to be reality and override the sh*t-storm that was surely occurring in Leo's brain.

"At least one of us is still mobile." Donnie suffocated his own inadequacy. "How are you doing? Do you want to rest before you go out again?"

"No, but we could have a little more water." Leo carefully shuffled Donnie off his legs.

"Mmkay." Donnie wasn't about to complain, willing to fill his pained stomach with water if it was the only option. It sucked that it required him to sit up and boil, drowsy and honestly willing to sleep longer if given the option.

"This is one of our last blocks." Leo informed him, after they'd drank the pot in turns. "If I don't find anything, I'll bring back more ice at least."

"Good plan." Donnie said, mostly to feel like he was contributing. He was tired again, even though he'd just woken up. How long had he been asleep? There was no indication on Leo's face, even as he crouched beside Donnie and shuffled their scraps around him, touching his forehead then his bandaged leg in turn.

Neither of them acknowledged that Leo was leaving again. Donnie wasn't sure he could handle talking about it, because the thought kind of made his throat want to close.

There was a frown on Leo's face. Donnie asked, "What are you thinking?"

Leo met his eyes, then looked away. Whatever he said was therefore a lie. "Just taking a good look before I go so I know if you look better or worse when I get back. How's the pain?"

"Six." Donnie couldn't focus on the pain as much, brain all swimmy and weird. But it was probably about the same as the last time he asked. Maybe.

"Okay." Leo said, voice blank. "Are you awake enough for me to go?"

"Tell me you're coming back." Donnie heard himself ask again, like he was still a little kid watching his dad go out to the surface alone to get them supplies.

"I'm coming back." Leo replied, and still sounded like he meant it. He didn't look away when he said it. "Don't spend the whole time I'm gone worried. I have a better idea."

"What's that?" Donnie asked, managing to sound a little dry.

Leo did his best impression of the Nyan Cat song before he jumped into the portal with a jaunty wave. And the bastard won, because for at least the first forty-five minutes that Donnie was alone his brain relentlessly looped the sugary tune.

But it did fade. Leaving a cold that had Donnie shivering, almost uncontrollably. Cold. Dark. Hungry. Pain. It all washed together in a haze, and Donnie was nervous to realize time was skipping around in front of his eyes. He was missing pieces. He was vulnerable. Every time he tried to snap out of it, to be on guard, the haze swarmed his brain.

He wanted Leo back. He kept imagining, over and over, that he was going to appear with food. He'd take the damn space mushrooms at this point, as long as it wasn't another mouthful of metallic water to swirl around his pebble sized stomach.

Then more time passed and Donnie returned to not even wanting the food. He just wanted Leo back. He was scared, tense all over, and didn't want to be alone. He was struggling to stay awake. His breath was coming quicker.

And he'd breathe, thinking, surely he'd appear now. Surely Leo would feel how badly he wanted him back, and appear, and he didn't. Donnie was alone, he was alone.

Eternity. Or maybe just a few hours. Impossible to tell the two apart. Then Leo actually appeared, juggling multiple blocks of ice stacked in his arms under his chin, and he immediately threw Donnie a wobbly and tired smile. "Hi. Back. Let me go put this down."

That was good, because it gave Donnie to try and compose himself after practically losing it. He was breathing almost normal when Leo returned, bringing a fresh block of ice with him.

"No luck?" Donnie asked, voice rasped.

"Lots of nothing." Leo sighed, scooping up the pot as he went by. "We should drink some more water and check on your bandages. Are you up to boiling?"

Considering Donnie had been left to lie uselessly in a cave for hours, the desire to help via water was worth any drain of ninpo that it would cost. "Yeah."

Leo chopped the ice into smaller pieces and Donnie boiled them. He felt like someone pulled the plug on the bathtub and all his power was rapidly draining from him. He was relieved when they had enough water to stop, setting it aside to cool.

They took the time to check Donnie over while they waited. Once again neither of them could decide if Donnie had a fever, as Leo was practically ice himself and there was no good way to balance the temperature between them. Leo pinched his toes, testing feeling, and carefully peeled back the bandages.

For a moment he just stared, eyes flicking back and forth. Donnie couldn't read his face, and stretched to try and get a good look at his leg himself. But Leo didn't let him, covering it back up and said, "Weak stomach boy, lean back, let me take care of it."

"Is it that bad?" Donnie asked, stomach flipping already in anticipation.

"Hm." Leo replied, getting up and fetching the pieces of fabric they'd set aside to 'dry', shaking out the ice. Donnie tried to reach and pull aside and look despite the warnings, but Leo caught him and swatted his hand away. "Stop that. It's doing okay. It's just weeping a lot of fluid, and I'm going to repack it and put that dry layer overtop."

"Pus?" Donnie asked, the word infection ringing and ringing louder.

"Exudate." Leo corrected, then hesitated. "Which is like pus, yes. Your immune system is working hard. That's why you're so tired. It's not turning any fun colours or anything, so I think it's doing its job. Just make sure you don't touch it."

Donnie had zero desire to touch it. He kept his eyes on the ceiling while Leo cleaned the wound and repacked it, which felt terrible and had him breathing fast. He gently shushed Donnie, layering and tying the new dry bandage in place. Then they shared the pot of water, trading back and forth taking sips until it was empty. It was stupid that Donnie felt like he'd run a marathon, considering that he only laid there and agonized, while Leo was the one out running around actually doing things.

"It's your turn." Donnie told him, because he'd slept like three or four times now since Leo had.

"Mmm." Leo said. "Sure."

Maybe if Donnie wasn't hot and in pain and tired he would've questioned the easy agreement. Instead he felt satisfaction at the sight of Leo settling down beside him, not choosing to curl up on his lap but resting his head on Donnie's shoulder. He was very still. Arms crossed over his chest.

Donnie couldn't even see if his eyes were closed. His blue light dimmed. It was quiet. Leo breathed perfectly even.

Eventually the unnatural stillness told Donnie that his faker brother was definitely faking, and he didn't know what to do about it. If his eyes were closed, then perhaps just being immobile would lull him to sleep with the sheer number of portals he'd been making recently. But if not, then...

Donnie wasn't sure. He very carefully leaned over to see Leo's face. His eyes were open.

"Leon." Donnie whispered, disappointed.

"Mm." Leo blinked, and focused on Donnie's face after a moment. "What?"

"Go to sleep." Donnie said.

"I'm fine." Leo said, so automatic it was almost laughable. "If you're tired, you could sleep."

Donnie was exhausted. He shook his head. "How many portals have you made? You must be running on empty."

"I'm fine." Leo repeated, and there was absolutely no colour in his eyes. Something numb and fuzzy.

"Will you try?" Donnie bonked his head against the top of Leo's. "For me?"

Leo huffed. He crossed his arms tighter and scooted closer. Donnie twisted to look at him properly and saw his eyes closed this time, at least.

Silence shuffled around them. Leo spoke into it, shimmering the void of nothingness, "The quiet is too loud."

"I could talk. Or I could give you my headphones." Donnie volunteered.

"Is there something to listen to in them?"

"No, but I could turn the noise cancelling on."

A moment of contemplation. Donnie had offered because it would make the illusion it was so quiet by choice. "Okay."

Donnie took his goggles off and Leo lifted his head enough to let him settle them over his ears. The noise cancelling turned on.

It provided the realization that Donnie had been buffered slightly from the sheer experience of this dimension through his headphones, as without them the quiet did feel louder. Consuming. But also important that he listen, because Leo stayed still and resting, even if it wasn't sleeping.

At no point did he grind his teeth or shift or snuffle. It was about two hours that Leo stayed right there, still as a corpse, head leaned against Donnie's shoulder.

Then Leo inhaled and sat up, touching his head. "Sorry."

"For what?" Donnie asked, turning towards him.

"What?" Leo said, then blinked rapidly and took the headphones off. "Sorry, I'm fine. Did you want to sleep? Here."

Leo handed back Donnie's headphones. After having spent two hours without them, Donnie wasn't sure. It felt like he was going to miss some key auditory input if he put them back on, even if it wasn't in noise cancelling mode. He took them back and didn't put them on, setting them aside. "It really hasn't been that long, you could go back to sleep."

"Psh, please." Leo waved a flippant hand, and there was just the smallest undercurrent of tired hysteria in his tone. "Last time I slept it was for eons. I'll be fine for a while. I just needed a little cat nap. Do you need another before I go?"

Donnie probably could’ve managed without sleeping again, but he selfishly wanted to keep Leo close. He agreed for himself, not finding it particularly restful as he spent whole time convincing himself that this would be last time. Mind thundering with pattern recognition and with pessimism. He kept shivering arms around Leo’s legs and tried to memorize the care and love that Leo poured into rubbing his soft shell. The cadence of his even; steady breathing above him.

And Donnie knew, because he knew his twin inside out — he didn’t have to be told that if Donnie were to die in here, there would be no Leo to pull out or save. Donnie knew he had a responsibility to stay alive because his presence was keeping Leo alive.

But there was a colder feeling living inside Donnie, one he didn’t want to acknowledge, because it seemed so unfair to the family waiting at home. Illogical that he would be so… Leo, about it. And it was holding onto Leo in the darkness trying and failing to sleep, he was pretty sure that if Leo died in here, there wouldn’t be a Donnie to save either.

Quiet reigned. And Donnie was disturbed by his own thoughts and didn’t want to have them anymore. They both had to get home. And they needed to eat. Donnie had to stop being a baby and let his brother go find it. Because he would find it, he was Hamato Leonardo and he could do anything he set his mind to. And there was no doubt with Donnie’s life on the line that this was something Leo set his mind to.

Donnie stopped pretending and sat up. The phantom warmth of where he’d been hugging Leo’s knees faded too quick into the cold, and Donnie rubbed his eyes tiredly.

“You didn’t sleep.” Leo said, because neither of them could get away with faking to the other.

“Not tired I guess.” Donnie said. “Are you ready?”

“Yeah.” Leo got up and gathered his sword. He made sure Donnie’s leg was elevated. Then he gave Donnie a reassuring smile. “Hey D?”

“Mm?” Donnie said, a little out of it, steeling himself to watch Leo portal away again, for the period of intense anxiety of being alone.

“I’m coming back.” Leo promised, and he still, still sounded like he meant it.

Something tightly clenched relaxed inside Donnie, just a little. “You better.”

Leo winked. And then he portalled away.

This time the sensation of being alone was a numbed drone. Horrible and clawing but fuzzy about it.

It shouldn't have been possible to feel boredom in tandem with the absolute worst mental and physical sensations of all time, but there it was.

His leg seemed to beat with his pulse. It was as if he could feel the sum effort of his whole body trying to heal, the thrum of energy draining out of him every moment he dragged in another breath.

No atomic numbers, no counting primes could hold his fleeting attention long. Instead it was a torture soundtrack of the greatest hits of Donnie’s mistakes, the fact that he was a burden on his twin and unable to concoct some genius way to save them from this hell.

And the haunting image of Leo’s dull eyes, the way he was quiet and drained and putting on such an obviously fake front for Donnie alone, a one man show, and how there was so much underneath the surface that Donnie couldn’t uncover even at gun point.

There was no way to help, other than being there. And for Leo? Donnie being here was the whole problem.

Instead he had this facsimile of what Leo should be, that saturation lost, that darkness shadowing his face, and there was nothing. Helplessness, his least favourite emotion — the loss of control, the crushing weight of it.

It was no wonder that Leo was so quick to leave him, when he couldn't even fix things, when he was the weight holding them down, that Leo was happy to leave him behind at any given opportunity.

Hm. Donnie blinked rapidly into the dim light, alone with the heavy sound of his own breathing and the unnatural sway of gravity of the rock this cave was stuck on. Normally he was not so uncharitable to his twin, he didn't tend to ascribe negative aspirations that quickly. Something about the heat of his own breath told him that he might've been a little more unwell than he felt functionally. The light headed weakness, the burn of his eyes -- impossible to tell if it was lack of sustenance or actual fever.

Then there was nothing to think about other than the looming concept of infection. He considered peeling back Leo's meticulous bandage work, but decided that he was better off not knowing -- that there would be nothing he could do anyway.

Laying there uselessly was like grinding nails against a chalkboard. It dragged on and on and on, unbearable. The feeling of it all wrapped and strange.

A sudden flicker of blue. It hadn't been nearly as long, despite the eternity it felt. Leo stood in the middle of the cave, heaving for air, shrouded in darkness. None of his ninpo markings were lit. He was swaying a little.

Donnie did it for him, bathing the frosted walls in purple, struggling up on his elbow to see his brother better. And all his twin-sense blared loud, his pattern recognition, everything screaming that something was wrong. There was a soft drip-drip-drip. When Donnie spoke, it was nervous, on guard and watching for the catch. "Leon?"

"Hey D." Leo said, and there was something wrong with how he spoke. Their gaze met, his eyes were weird. And when he smiled, Donnie's heart stopped, because there was blood on his teeth. "I found gatekeep."

It was about that moment the Donnie realized the red stripe on the left side of Leo's face was glistening, and a pour of blood was pooling down his cheek and dripping off his chin, like half painted tear drops.

"Aha." Donnie said, slow and careful, waiting for his heart to start beating again, because it still hadn't. "Hey, Nardo, can you sit down for me?"

"Sit?" Leo repeated, and that same little off to his words, like he was pulling them too long in his mouth. A slur, very carefully hidden.

"Right there." Donnie didn't want Leo to pass out, because he couldn't catch him without hurting his leg.

Leo swayed. He didn't move.

"Leonardo." Donnie said, more firm, as his heart tripped over itself in haste to go triple time. "Sit on the floor."

"Why?"

"Do it for me. Sit down." Donnie ordered.

"Heard, chef." Leo lowered himself to the ground, placing down his sword, settling down with his hands.

Donnie could really hear the slur now. He said, "Scoot towards me."

Leo edged himself closer. Donnie gestured his hands towards him, trying to get his twin's head in the bathe of his purple light. It highlighted how much blood was pouring down the side of his face, stemming from just above his crown.

"Lay your head in my lap." Donnie said, monotone and controlled, because Leo's skin was drained of colour, a woozy little sway that spoke of the imminent chance of losing consciousness.

"Why do you sound so worried?" Leo said, nose scrunching a little in the middle.

"Exactly how out of it are you, right now?" Donnie asked, not sure if his brother was even on the same stratosphere as him at the moment. "Put your head here."

"I'm totally in it." Leo complained, but shifted to the side and laid his head down. His eyes unfocused and almost rolled back in his head, though he seemed to catch it, blinking rapidly.

Donnie grabbed the extra fabric they had prepared, meant for Donnie's next bandage change, and tried to clear the blood enough to determine the source.

"Talk to me." Donnie said.

Leo inhaled, eyes on the ceiling clouded and vague. "About what?"

"Head injury."

"Who has a head injury?"

A prickle of white-hot panic shot through Donnie's veins. His breath caught, fear and dread fighting a war inside him. He said, hysterically calm, "Just tell me what you would do."

"Um..." Leo breathed, nose crinkling again. A much more noticeable slur. "Do for what?"

That hysteria grew louder and more uncontrollable. "Do I try to stop the bleeding? Leon. Head wounds, stop the bleeding? Focus."

"Yes. But... gotta make sure the skull doesn't look caved in. You don't want to push on a fracture if you can help it."

Donnie stared and stared. He felt like he couldn't remember what a skull looked like to determine if it was safe. But the stupid thing was practically gushing blood, and he made the decision to apply pressure. He said, "Keep still, okay?"

"Hm?" Leo said, then flinched when Donnie pressed against the wound with his folded bandage. "Ow."

"Sorry." Donnie said, quietly. "How long?"

"... for what?" Leo blinked up at him.

A clawed animal clawed up his throat, choking him for a moment. The helplessness never felt louder. "How long do you apply pressure to a head wound?"

"I dunno."

"Try anyway."

"Uh. At least like fifteen minutes?"

"Okay." Donnie braced his knee on the other side of Leo's head to keep him steady. He tried to remember what Leo had said to him when they first arrived in the prison dimension about concussions. He leaned over Leo's head, seeing that both pupils were quite huge, barely any ring of colour around them. That white-hot terror gripped him again, stealing his breath, pouring adrenaline into near tunnel vision.

"Leo. Can you follow my finger?" Donnie held his free hand up, over his gaze. As he moved from one side to another, Leo's gaze stayed straight up, shifting to the side after a long delay, stuttering in movement.

That didn't seem to be a favourable result. He said, "Did you lose consciousness at all?"

"No." Leo said. Then, after a moment. "I don't think so. What did I do?"

And that answered the memory question as well. Donnie covered his own eyes with his hand for a moment, his calm shuddering.

"You showed me how to find out if someone has a concussion, but not what I'm supposed to do if the answer is 'yes'." Donnie said, voice a little too high for his fabricated calm.

"Oh." Leo said, that slurred and vague and distant. And damning, "Who has a concussion?"

Chapter 10

Chapter Text

Donnie held the pressure against Leo's head wound. It soaked through what he was holding and he added another layer without peeling the first, remembering Leo doing the same thing when the bandages had soaked through on his leg.

Leo kept his uneven gaze on the ceiling.

Donnie was aware that trying to ask Leo questions at the moment was a bit like swimming directly up river, but he had to try. "Are you hurt anywhere else?"

"Hurt?" Leo blinked, lethargic and slow, foggy gaze settling on Donnie. "Are you hurt?"

"I'm fine, Leo. Are you hurt?"

"Who cares." Leo shut his eyes.

"Me." Donnie resisted the urge to jab him in the chest for that statement. He had far too much of his twin's blood on his fingers right now to consider it. "Status report. Can you feel any other injuries?"

"Mmm." Leo visibly flexed his legs and arms. "Sore. I think my knees are bruised. And I'm really hungry."

"Anything else?"

Another long pause. Leo didn't answer.

Donnie tried not to sigh and failed. "Leo."

"Hm?" Leo blinked open again, that too-slow. "Sorry. What's up?"

"Tell me if you can feel any injuries." Donnie tried a second time, almost academically curious if he'd get a different answer.

"Are you hurt?" Leo tried to push off his hand holding his head in place to keeping pressure on the wound.

Donnie snapped, just a little. "No, you are, idiot. Stay still."

Leo settled down, something funny crossing his face. "Oh. Is that why my head hurts?"

"Yes." Donnie exhaled slowly, clarifying, calming. "Does anywhere else hurt?"

"No, nothing hurts." Leo said, with his slip and slur of words. "I'm fine."

"What about your knees?" Donnie said, through gritted teeth.

Leo looked visibly surprised that Donnie would know that. And it only confirmed that Donnie could not trust a damn word out of his mouth. Leo tried to glance down at his legs, but Donnie kept his head in a vice grip.

"Don't move, I said." Donnie repeated, feeling a little like he was trying to wrestle a toddler or an uncooperative drunk.

"What's going on?" Leo asked. A little smaller. A little more scared.

"I've got you." Donnie promised. "But you've got to stay still for me. Just keep breathing."

"Okay." Leo agreed. Deflating. Donnie watched his face, how his gaze wandered and confusion brushed over his features, only to attempt a reassuring smile when he caught Donnie looking.

"What's wrong?" Leo asked, syrupy sweet, even with the ever-present slur.

"Nothing's wrong." Donnie said, a little defeated. He didn't want to go in another circle with what was supposed to be his snappy comeback twin, who was supposed to be smart enough to meet his wit their whole lives. "We're hanging out."

"I love hanging out with you." Leo said, and it was too earnestly sincere. It almost brought tears to Donnie's eyes, and he kept that emotion down by focusing on the more prominent panic at the sheer amount of blood that seemed to persistently be leaking through his attempts to kept pressure on his head.

"I love hanging out with you too." Donnie replied, around the lump in his throat.

"You do?" And why did it hurt so much to hear the glowing joy in his twin's tone?

"Of course." Donnie caught his free hand and gave it a squeeze. "Don't sound so surprised. I wouldn't let just anyone into my lab, you know."

"I know." Leo smiled his sweet and shy one, real and oh-so painful.

Donnie kept one hand on pressure and the other gripping Leo's. He was fairly sure more than fifteen minutes had passed but he wasn't confident enough to peel away the bandages, so he just kept giving pressure.

"Is my head bleeding?" Leo asked, after a quiet few minutes.

"Yes, Leon." Donnie said, patiently.

"Head wounds bleed a lot. They look scarier than they are." Leo told him.

It was hard for Donnie to feel more scared than he did right now. "Alright. And what else?"

"Mmm. Lots of rest. That 'don't fall asleep' thing is a myth. Just make sure they don't stop breathing or start seizing and it's fine." Leo contributed, much to Donnie's relief, even if his gaze was absent and uneven.

"Good to know." Donnie said. "Anything else?"

Leo didn't answer. Donnie didn't bother repeating the question, because the way Leo couldn't concentrate to keep a conversation was freaking him out and if they were quiet he could pretend things were normal.

"Don?" Leo ventured uncertainly, after a long few minutes of quiet.

"Yeah, L." Donnie said. He was still holding his hand, so he squeezed reassuringly.

"Did I hit my head?"

"I was hoping you could answer that, actually." Donnie had no idea what transpired, though he could guess with the 'gatekeep' quip. The thought of Leo encountering Prime while alone filled him with racing alarm, that anything could've happened. "What do you remember?"

Leo blinked with a little more speed at the ceiling. "Um. I saw him. He had, uh, dogs."

"Dogs?" Donnie repeated, wondering if this was some kind of concussion fuelled hallucination.

"Pink fleshy dogs. Kraang hounds. I was relieved."

He was going to regret asking. Donnie prodded, "Relieved?"

"Well, 'cause, you know." Leo scrunched up his nose. "If Prime was with me then he wasn't with you. Right?"

A burst of emotion at that statement, messy and impossible to identify all the moving parts. He brushed past the obviously delirious statement. "And how'd you hit your head?"

"Ah. We exchanged some words. Don't worry, I told him you were busy."

"Leo."

"A gentleman's quarrel. Not a big deal." Leo squirmed. "Is that still bleeding?"

"I don't know." Donnie was too afraid to pull away the sopping wet bandages.

"I'm sure it's fine." Leo said, with far too much confidence of someone who was asking the same questions over and over. "I'm fine, D."

"Shut up." Donnie snapped, and didn't linger in the guilt for long, because he was relatively sure Leo wasn't even going to remember him saying it.

And he was right, because a minute or two later, Leo said, "Are you okay? You look upset."

A full body sigh rocked Donnie. He said, "I'm going to check your head wound. Stay still, okay?"

"Oh." Leo sounded out of it again. Donnie bit the bullet and pulled away to find a gross wound, split skin and -- ah he didn't want to think about if that was bone. Never mind, he couldn't do this, there was a reason Leo was the medic and Donnie was happy that he was. His stomach rolled over and he bit his tongue to shove it down.

"I should probably clean this." Donnie said, failing to hide the hysterical note in his voice.

It made Leo look alarmed, which was rapidly shoved back down into a fabricated calm. "Hey, you're okay. What's wrong?"

That beast clawed and crawled inside him, fear and fear and fear. He didn't like this skip in a record, this repeated song. He wanted his Leo back already to help him deal with this situation. Leo was the medic and Donnie didn't want to take it from him. He was never supposed to be without him for it to matter.

Luckily they'd left the pot in reach, because neither of them could move right now. Donnie said, "I'm just going to heat up some water, okay?"

Their last batch had a layer of ice remaining, which was good because it would be hard to go outside to get more ice. Donnie heated that up, not bothering to reach a boil since it had been already, and gently wet a piece of fabric to clean the blood of Leo's face. Carefully stroking the circumference of the wound with the warm cloth, watching Leo's eyes shut and melt into the touch.

A small, sub-vocal purr. And when Leo opened his eyes again, as Donnie dampened his piece again, it was all liquid trust. If there was pain, it wasn't showing on his face.

"This might hurt a little." Donnie told him, because he knew from his own experience that trying to clean it wasn't fun.

"I'm tough." Leo said, with that blurred smile. "What'd Raph always call me?"

"Fearless." Donnie replied, around the rock in his throat.

"Do what you gotta do." Leo encouraged, and held very still as Donnie cleaned the head wound. It immediately began to bleed again, and Donnie was pretty sure it needed stitches. He had zero capability of providing stitches. Sure, he could summon a purple construct needle and thread, but as he learned with his battle shell, any constructs would vanish the moment he went to sleep. So he covered up the problem, out of sight out of mind, by padding up a bandage and tying it around his head. There weren't any scraps that long, so he co-opted Leo's facemask to do the job, making it more like a headband.

Donnie hovered there for a moment, his brother's eyes uncovered and showing up the dark trenches of exhaustion around his eyes, that somehow he was still awake even after a traumatic head wound. "Hey."

"Mmm. Hi." Leo's pupils were still huge and glazed.

"Are you tired?"

"Mmm." Leo repeated, eyelashes sticking together in a slow blink. "Dunno."

"When we talked about concussions before, you asked me to check if the pupils were different sizes. What does it mean when they're both huge?" Donnie asked, half to get him to focus on reality and half because he did want to know the answer.

"For different sizes it can mean a structural brain injury. Which would be worse." Leo scrunched his nose. "Big pupils in general can just be like, adrenaline. Or it could be ischemia of the brain stem. Or a bunch of other things. Sorry. I'm having trouble remembering."

"It's fine. Just what do I need to do?" Donnie said, even though it wasn't fine, that the hysteria of it all was a living thing wailing unconstrained inside him.

Leo shrugged. "Keep an eye on it. Heh. See if it gets better. If they go back to normal size then it's fine."

It should not have been so relieving to hear Leo make a silly little pun about this, but it was. "Okay."

Those really big pupils blinked up at him. Leo asked, "But who has a concussion?"

Donnie shut his eyes to stay the instinctive reaction, not wanting Leo to see how upset it made him. He inhaled with purpose. He said, "Don't worry about it, Leon. It's time for you to get some rest."

"I'd rather not." Leo replied, as if there weren't graves dug underneath his eyelids.

Even harder to resist the urge to pinch his brow and sigh. Long suffering as ever, he said, "And why not?"

"Feels weird."

Foreboding barely had room in Donnie's already crowded brain. "Feels weird how?"

Leo shifted uncomfortably. "It's... like. Dizzy. Kinda nauseous. And I've got such a bad headache."

"I think sleeping might help with that." Donnie suggested, trying to sound reasonable. It was ridiculously hard.

A quiet, contemplative pause. Leo asked, "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." Donnie replied, even though he felt more like banging his head against the wall.

The dizziness was obvious from how Leo's eyes almost kept crossing. But when he spoke, he compressed the shake in his voice to something just a parody of normal. "You don't look well."

"Yeah, I'd hate to give you a mirror right now and burst your bubble about yourself, Leon." Donnie said, dry.

Leo's hand drifted up and cold fingers fumbled to press against Donnie's forehead. "You're feverish."

Funny, because he was so panicked about Leo he could barely feel the pain or the hunger or the sweep of heat in such cold conditions. "Just my immune system working, you said. It's your turn to sleep, Nardo."

"Can't." Leo dropped his hand and pulled it close to his chest.

Donnie repeated his original question, wondering again if he'd get a different answer, "And why not?"

A slow, sloth-like blink, and dazed eyes barely moved from their fixed point on the ceiling. "You deserve to..."

"I deserve to what?" Donnie prompted, unnerved by the semi complete sentence. And what it implied that Leo didn't deserve.

Leo was very out of it, and touched the blue mask tied to his forehead with a frown, and threw Donnie a confused look.

"Close your eyes." Donnie attempted instead, aware that reasoning with the drunk toddler was not going to work.

"I don't wanna throw up." Leo replied. "Aspirate on it and die in my sleep."

"Roll over, then." Donnie coaxed him to the side, so he wasn't laying on his back.

"I don't wanna sleep." Leo reminded him, as if Donnie could've forgotten.

"Boo hoo, suck it up, those with head injuries lose their vote." Donnie moved him so he was tipped to the side, braced on his free arm and Donnie's knee. "Now close your eyes."

Quiet. For all of five minutes. Then Leo, without moving his head, slurred, "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." Donnie replied. "Go to sleep."

"I..." Leo started, but didn't finish. He went quiet again. And asked, six more times in the span of an hour, if Donnie was okay.

It was just a little infuriating. The seventh time, Leo's completely out of it slurred words came from the turtle draped sideways over his legs, "Are you okay?"

And Donnie's patience crackled. He said, "No, I'm not, because you won't go the f*ck to sl--"

Unfortunately, that threw Leo into a panic, losing all his fragile projected cool, and he practically swung as he sat up quickly, eyes wild. And before he could say anything all the colour drained from his already sallow face, and he turned the other way to hack and vomit. A dribble of bile from his mouth followed by a miserable coughing fit.

Donnie rubbed his shell, sighing with sympathy. Perhaps that was a little bit his fault. He amended, "I'm fine, Leonardo, but you are not. Lay back down."

A whine broke the back of Leo's throat, and Donnie carefully set him in the scraps, dragging himself out from underneath and standing on one foot with the assistance of the low wall.

"What're you doin'?" Leo asked, distant.

"Don't move." Donnie ordered, taking a second to breathe. Sparks of unnatural pain rocketed up his leg the moment he was vertical, but it was fine. He could do this for Leo. He skirted around the cave, leaning hard against the wall, putting the bare minimum of weight on his injured foot with every step. His ankle felt fragile and floppy, and the stab of agony through the gouges was relentless every moment his body weight pressed down against it, but he could still move. There was a delirious mumbling behind him, that he ignored for the moment, intent on his goal.

Outside there was the familiar nothing. Pricks of stars and the dizzying sway of the gravity and their little rock. Donnie kept his eyes from the haunting endless unknown above him, and traced the outer wall towards their ice stash, leaving bloody finger prints as he moved. A small conjured net held the ice so he could sling it over his shoulder, the punch of energy from his ninpo not encouraging for the effort he was going to need to boil it shortly. Then he agonizingly slow traced his way back inside, breathing hard and focused on his task, sweating from effort and pain.

"D?" Leo's voice came, the moment he was back at the mouth of the cave.

"I'm here." Donnie replied.

"Are you okay?" Leo asked, as if this was a brand new question.

Donnie had learned his lesson and replied, "Yes, Leo, I'm okay."

A beat of silence. Leo accused, "You're lying."

Well, yes. Donnie was lying, and that was his lying voice. Because right now everything hurt, and he felt weak and hungry and tired and scared. But he would boil some damn water for his twin who just threw up, because they couldn't afford to lose fluids when it was all they had. "Just don't move, okay? You have a head injury."

"Oh, is that why my head hurts?" Leo said, and there was a little humour in his tone, at least.

Donnie heaved for air as he moved, and set down his spoils beside their little nest. He borrowed some scraps, of which they were beginning to run low, to clean up the bile and kick it away from their sleeping area. Then he sat beside the ice block, crawling his fingers across the cave floor to reach the abandoned sword, and began to hack smaller pieces into their pot.

"Donnie?" Leo asked, small, from where he was curled up on his stomach in the nest.

"Yes, Leonardo, are you perhaps worried about my well-being?" Donnie asked, unable to help himself since this whole situation was making him lose his actual marbles.

A mystified silence, like Leo wasn't sure how to reply now. Then he said, a bit more obnoxious and more like himself, "Well are you okay or not? Jerk."

Donnie allowed himself a tiny smile. "I am up and breathing, my dear brother. You, however, have a head injury."

"Oh." Leo's voice trailed off. Then he asked, a bit more sheepish, "How many times have I asked you that, then?"

"An embarrassing amount." Donnie replied, hoping that if he made it a little bit of a joke it would stop being so sad that it was what his brain was latched onto.

The water boiled. Donnie dragged the pot aside to cool and since he was already moving around, shuffled to get a good look at Leo's knees.

Ouch. There was bruises already many colours on each knee, and a half-healed trail of blood from a burst cut. Donnie asked, "What happened here?"

"Hm?" Leo glanced down, eyes nearly rolling back again before he steadied the motion. "Oh. Gatekeep got a cheap shot in. Kicked me right in the f*cking knees. Then I fell and pop! Hit my head. Wow, my head really hurts, actually."

"That's because you have a head injury." Donnie felt like he should be winning awards for his patience right now, actually. Ignoring the multiple times he'd snapped at his twin -- it wasn't like he'd remember that anyway. "Do you know if you lost consciousness?"

"Don't think so. I portalled away before he could get another cheap shot in. Or his dogs."

The recurrence of the dogs. Testing to see if it was a real memory. "Actual dogs?"

"Kraang dogs? They were gross. I wasn't a fan."

The consistency of the answer made Donnie think it was probably true. And Donnie definitely wasn't a fan either, because it meant there was more out there that was going to try to kill them beyond just Prime. A disturbed feeling hung there, like someone else was in the room. He tried to ignore it.

"That's not ideal." Donnie said, with remarkable calm for how he felt inside. "It's time to have your favourite, a hot cup of water. Can you sit up very slowly so you don't pass out or throw up again?"

"I threw up? Damn, that explains the taste in my mouth." Leo leveraged an elbow and blinked the stars from his eyes as he moved. "Wait, how'd you get that? Did you move? Donatello, that leg is not for walking on."

"Oops." Donnie said, dry and unapologetic. "Drink."

A funny expression crossed Leo's face. But he took the pot and sipped at the still very warm water. Some relief passed over his expression at discomforts he hadn't been willing to voice to his twin. Idiot.

Donnie took his turn, because he was thirsty and it dulled the hunger just a little to fill his stomach with something. They traded back and forth, Donnie insisting that they keep going until they finished, even when it took a long time. Water was the only luxury they had, and he wanted both of them to get as many benefits as they could.

"Donnie?" Leo asked.

Donnie was pretty sure that if Leo asked him one more time if he was okay, he was going to scream. He said, "Yes?"

"Are you okay?"

Donnie didn't scream. He sighed, shuffling aside the pot and crawling back into their nest, tugging Leo to rest on his lap again.

"You didn't answer me." Leo pointed out, staying on his stomach, weaving an arm around Donnie's waist to hug him a little.

"I'm okay." Donnie said, speaking as slow as he could in the hopes that it would hide how not-okay he was.

"Do you want to sleep?" Leo asked next. "I could take watch."

"Respectfully, you could not watch an ant farm at the moment."

"Why not?"

"You have a head injury."

"Oh. But you need rest to feel better, D. You should sleep."

Donnie quietly bit down on his own knuckles to suffocate the urge to scream at him again. Then he said, voice a mockery of what he wanted it to sound like, "And you need to rest from your head injury."

"Come on, Don." Leo's voice projected a reassuring smile that Donnie could not see. "This egghead'll be fine, I'm sure. I can keep watch. You deserve to rest."

Donnie didn't bother to voice, 'and you don't?'. Because he knew what Leo's answer would be, and he didn't want to hear it. Especially not when he wasn't going to remember this in ten minutes.

And ten minutes later, Leo said, "Hey D?"

"I'm okay." Donnie answered pre-emptively. "You have a head injury. You are currently trying to get some sleep so it will get better. Close your eyes and count to a thousand."

A startled silence. Then Leo said, "Sorry."

Donnie sighed, bitter that he hadn't kept the annoyance out of his tone. "Don't be sorry. I'm sorry. Just. Close your eyes and count. Okay?"

"Okay."

It was quiet for a while. Donnie could practically feel the moment Leo forgot what he was doing, as he began to shift distractedly.

This wasn't going to work. Not when Leo was so fundamentally opposed to resting. Donnie brought out the big guns and rested his hand on the back of his neck, stroking his thumb gently. Trying to communicate through constant mechanical feedback to Leo that he was meant to be sleeping, even if he forgot from moment to moment.

That did relax some of the tension rolling up and down Leo's figure. Snuffling and burrowing closer to Donnie. And miraculously, hiding his face, breath going even and slow.

Asleep. Donnie was selfishly grateful for the reprieve, because if he had to listen to the same question again he would not be held accountable for his actions. Maybe Raph or Mikey would've been the better brother to have in this situation, because Donnie didn't have the grace or compassion to patiently answer the same thing over and over.

But then the quiet sung loud. Donnie had discarded his headphones earlier, finding the unbuffered prison dimension to have the most haunting low-pitched hum at the edge of his hearing that made him slightly miserable. But he couldn't bring himself to put his headphones back on now that he knew there had been a level of suffering that Leo was enduring that he wasn't. Plus he wanted to have as much capability of being on guard as possible.

The exhaustion was a thick heavy soup, since it had been a while since he slept himself, and left with a snoozing Leo on his lap he was put on guard once again. He was put in charge of the most important thing in this place. He was reminded of all the agonies that came with owning a physical form in hell.

Thumb stroking the neck of that important thing, as a cold nose dug closer into his side. Donnie could feel the rip-tear of hunger starting a riot. The itch-burn of pierced wounds in his leg. The woozy distant heat of maybe-fever fighting with the surrounding cold hooked into his skin. Shivers. A slow blink at the entrance, as the sight wobbled and resolved back into clarity.

Then his brain started to play a fun game, about an hour or two into Leo's rest. That it would be fine if Donnie slept too. He could curl up against his twin, holding his shell to his chest and just doze into the blissful sleep. He was so tired, and his eyes definitely could close. If they died in their sleep -- well, at least they'd die together. It was fine. He could just...

Blink awake again. Remind himself of reality. Remember the truth. Stay awake, keep watch. Donnie traced letters on the back of Leo's neck. Their names. Their family's names. He thought about how Mikey was such a little guy but his full name got five whole syllables. Then switched to kanji, just to mix it up.

That wasn't distracting enough. It felt like Mikey and Raph and Dad and April were in the room with them, watching and disapproving of his choices. That there was some obvious action here that Donnie should've been doing that he hadn't thought of. But he was so tired. It dragged him down relentlessly. The twitch of fever, the promise of --

What was that?

Donnie stopped breathing, listening. It was the same empty echo, the low pitched hum, the nothing nothing nothing. Leo wasn't grinding his teeth. There was nothing.

Or maybe there was something.

Donnie inhaled careful, shaky, staring with huge eyes at the entry way. It shimmered and swayed. Was something there? He became dizzy with the sheer effort of his heart pounding. And -- a flash of red?

A thousand decisions came screeching into his head at once. Donnie knew what he had to do -- because Leo was hurt, he was compromised, he was vulnerable. If Donnie could just -- if he could just put himself there, then maybe they wouldn't even know Leo was here. He shuffled Leo off his lap, trembling, staring because the cave walls seemed the same slick-dark. The red was faded. But if Donnie just stepped outside, then they'd stop looking, right? They would leave Leo alone.

Donnie got to his feet. He felt like he was struck by lightning, the bolt of pain from his leg, but he pushed forward. Stumbling and catching himself. Agony racing and racing in circles, the useless flesh barely able to support himself, the shock of pain more a hindrance than anything.

He could hear nothing beyond the snare drum of his own heart. The world swum in colour, spinning and dizzy and weird. Donnie reached the mouth of the cave and staggered out, ready for --

A hum. Nothing. Donnie stood there, feeling like gravity was ten times the speed. It was all just the side of wrong, just off. There was no red. There was only stars and darkness and his little rock, his cave, and no Kraang.

He stared and stared and stared at the nothing. There was nothing.

The worst was that he had no way of knowing if he had actually seen red in the mouth of the cave, or if it had been a hallucination. There was no possible way to determine the difference, because all he could see out here was a whole lot of nothing. He was going to be stuck with the knowledge that he didn't know if that was just something he terrifying genius brain just made up, or if it actually happened. And Donnie f*cking hated not knowing the answer.

He stood there for probably far too long, waiting to see if he could figure out if it was safe to go back inside, or if Prime was actually there. Everything just spinning, and it was hard to remain upright, and he just wasn't sure if he was making the right decision at all.

Then he heard, a numbly terrified, "Tello?"

It broke the spell. Donnie returned, bracing his shoulder against the cave wall, calling back, "I'm here, Leo."

"Why are you there?" Leo was sitting up, and Donnie swore repeatedly in his head that his stupid twin was awake again after like maybe two hours of rest. The slur was gone from his voice, at least.

"No reason." Donnie lied, struggling back to the nest, where Leo was reaching for him to support his slide back down.

"You're really bad at lying." Leo told him, not letting go even once Donnie was settled beside him again. "Why the f*ck are you walking on that leg?"

"I thought I saw something." Donnie replied, around the ashes in his mouth.

Leo stared at him. His pupils were still a little big, but they'd significantly gone down now. The depths of them locked Donnie with a look that told him he'd f*cked up.

"Saw something." Leo repeated slow.

"There wasn't anything." Donnie assured, nervous. Hoping maybe -- well. Maybe that Leo would miss how much of a hypocrite he apparently had the capacity for.

"I must've hit my head pretty hard." Leo said, icicle. "I must be on some other planet where you are the biggest hypocrite to walk the surface."

Nope. No dice. "I wasn't thinking, I just -- I just went outside to check."

"Lying." Leo sing-songed, acidic. "What's your thought process, huh? Hold on, shut up, let me guess. You thought, hey, if I go out there and something is up, then maybe I'll just leave Leo behind so he can't get hurt. Wow. What an astonishing turn of events that you tore me apart for making the exact same--"

Then Leo broke off, grabbing his head in his hands and groaning. "f*ck, you're making my head hurt worse."

Donnie choked on his apology. He said instead, "How's that concussion treating you?"

Leo gave him a venomous glare that kinda hurt more than it normally would. "We're not dropping this, Donatello."

"Yes we are." Donnie loudly announced, hoping maybe he'd just forget. The room was spinning. He was angry that he got caught doing something stupid, something so Leo.

Leo scoffed, equally upset. He quickly sat up, a tirade of sharp words on his tongue that he ended up visibly swallowing eyes going wide and face draining of colour.

"Lay back down." Donnie snapped. They were still holding hands, tight, and he dragged his twin back down with that grip. "Don't throw up."

Leo's eyes fluttered back into his head for a moment, but he stumbled through an immediate, "I'm not going to."

"Mhm." Donnie said, tense. "It was nothing. I'm not good at sitting idle and my eyes started to play tricks on me or something. I just... reacted."

"Hallucination?" The turtle in his lap struggled through a couple unsteady breaths and blindly reached up with to press freezing fingers to the cheek he could reach. "You're really warm, Tello."

"And you're really cold." Donnie tipped forward to press his head against his shoulder. Leo untangled their fingers to give him a hug, holding on tight.

The temperature eventually evened out between them.

Chapter 11

Chapter Text

Donnie seriously didn't mean to fall asleep on his concussed twin, but one moment he was just holding on, the next he was struggling out of sleep with the hunted feeling that he hadn't meant to drift off. He roused with a sharper inhale.

"You're okay." Leo said, from underneath him. Because Donnie had curved over his shell, sleeping with his cheek pressed against the patterns.

"I didn't mean to fall asleep." Donnie mumbling, feeling really awful about it.

"It's fine." Leo replied.

Donnie paused. He couldn't read the vibes, if Leo remembered what he'd tried to do the 'night' before. He autistically decided to just voice his thoughts, knowing that Leo wouldn't judge him for the bluntness. "Are we fighting? Because I'd like to know if we are."

"My head hurts too much to fight." Leo said. Damn it. So he did remember.

Donnie straightened up, hoping to deflect. "Can I check your head?"

"If you must." Leo rolled over and let Donnie look. His pupils looked almost normal, though he gave a pained squint when Donnie lit his markings to see closer. He tracked his finger in a much smoother line this time.

"As far as my rudimentary understanding can tell, you are doing better." Donnie decided. He was afraid to touch the makeshift bandage on his head, worried it would dislodge and begin to bleed in earnest again. There had just been so much blood.

"Just had a little rattle." Leo gave a smile, teeth no longer stained red. "I'll survive. You, on the other hand, feel like a furnace. Can I check your leg?"

Turnabout was fair play. Donnie allowed him to peel back the bandages and check, the two of them coordinating boiling more scraps, bemoaning their dwindling resource.

Leo moved slow, in visible and obvious pain, wracked with fits of dizziness that he sat perfectly still to ride out. But otherwise he was not asking Donnie the exact same question over and over, which was a vast improvement.

Though there was something on Leo's mind. It was in the way he kept flickering his eyes over to Donnie, then looking away. It wasn't... upset, like Donnie would expect from the probable hallucination fuelled hypocritical decision to leave earlier. It was something else.

Donnie didn't have the energy to pry it out of him right now, mostly because he had a terrible sense of foreboding that he wasn't going to like whatever it was. Instead he allowed the painful process of changing his bandages, keeping his sanity by studiously not looking at Leo's face when he saw what was underneath. He rated the pain at an level 5. The hot swelter of fever at least was welcome in the cold atmosphere, even if the implications were sh*t.

Leo fixed him up. His flawless medic hands shook as he worked. Then they resettled back into position, shoulder to shoulder in their small nest.

And it hung between them. The big 'what now'.

"Talk to me." Donnie said.

"Even if you'll get mad?" Leo replied, promptly.

"I thought your head hurt too much to fight." Donnie pointed out.

"Yeah, but you're not gonna like it. So."

Donnie traced his eyes on the opposite cave wall, feverish brain running through possibilities of what he was talking about. There was really only one thing it could be. "You can't."

"What's the alternative?" Leo implored.

"I could go." Donnie said.

"You can't walk."

"I did. I have. You have a concussion."

"It's getting better." Leo dismissed immediately.

"Oh yeah?" Donnie was a bit of an asshole and turned to flick Leo directly in the forehead.

His twin clutched at his head, eyes watering, and hissed, "f*ck off, D. Jesus."

"You're not going anywhere." Donnie said, firm and absolute.

"Neither are you." Leo snapped back, not raising his head from his hands.

"Then we're not."

Silence swirling around them.

An impasse. No movement from either side. Leo still didn't raise his head. There was no sound, just the low-level hum, the slow cycle of two sets of lungs breathing in time.

Donnie curled up and shut his eyes, finding they were burning with fever. A few minutes later, Leo shifted and tugged him close, sheltering Donnie in his arms. Neither spoke. Donnie slept for a little while. His dreams were of a red light, but every time he opened his eyes the walls were painted in a nightlight of soft blue.

He woke at one point to find Leo slumping into him, so he switched positions. Leo didn't argue, one hand pressed against his head, and shut his eyes. Boneless against his twin. He rested for a few hours himself, eyes twitching underneath the lids and even grinding his teeth a bit.

Not for long. Until it was just the two of them awake again, sitting in the nothing, only pain and contemplation for company.

"How long do you think it's been since we last ate?" Leo asked. They'd shuffled to sitting shoulder to shoulder again.

Donnie could feel his pulse in his leg, the pain tweaking his nerves with every beat of his heart. The hunger was a different kind of pain, one like a tight ball of knives right in his middle, making everything dizzy and sore. His sense of time was getting weaker and weaker with how long they'd been in there, but he was pretty sure they'd passed the seven day mark by now. "At least a week."

The heaviness of the statement stuck on them. A whole week in hell. A week without food. How far would their genetically modified super-soldier thing carry them? Or did the fact that they were meant they had to eat more, and was actually reducing how much time they had left?

"The situation hasn't changed." Leo said, in a voice that one time may have been smooth and charming. All of the edges were roughed. "We still won't find any food if we aren't looking."

"Then wait until I can come with you." Donnie insisted. "Don't leave me here alone again, especially not if you're going to die out there."

"Wait until what, D?" Leo pressed his fingers to Donnie's forehead and they were ice cold. Or maybe Donnie was just too hot.

Donnie opened his mouth to say when he got better and the ashes of words refused to dust beyond his throat. Would he get better? Or was it all just downhill from here?

"Is it infected?" Donnie asked, trying to keep his monotone clinical.

Leo hesitated. "It's really deep. I'm trying to keep an eye on it, but your fever isn't encouraging."

Donnie scoffed, knocking Leo's hand away. "Come on, L. You know I get fevers easy. I always have."

Growing up it felt like his body's first reaction to anything was fever. Minor colds that the others easily brushed off, any kind of vaccine, hell sometimes over-stimulation was bam fever.

"Run me through it." Donnie asked. "What are the signs of infection?"

"Fever." Leo said, promptly.

"Great. But we can't narrow that down, because I'm a fever boy. I honestly wouldn't be surprised if it's from the hunger. Give me more narrowing evidence."

"An increasing redness around the wound area, especially a red streak towards the heart."

"Big yikes. Have I got that?"

"No."

Donnie was glad to hear it, because that definitely didn't sound good. "Alright, continue."

"Swelling. Which you do have."

"Yes, and I also have a f*cked up ankle right next to it. I don't think we can narrow that down. Hit me again."

"Pus." Leo replied, slower. "Exudate is common in most wounds, it's only when it begins to appear thick or clouded that it's a sign of infection."

"Have you noticed that with my wound?" Donnie asked.

"Not yet."

"What it sounds like to me is that you cannot definitively conclude that I have an infection." Donnie stretched his leg out in front of him, wincing. It hurt, but that was to be expected suffering a wound like that with no painkillers. Hell, that could be the fever itself. Too much pain.

"But you -- it just. There's no way that the treatment I've given you won't end in infection."

"Leon." Donnie said, aching, and leaned into his brother. "You're taking good care of me."

"It's not enough." Leo's eyes were wet and huge and he looked away with a pant, wincing and grabbing his head again. "I just. I can't see it ending any other way. And if you get up and run around, it'll be worse. You gotta heal."

"Hey, do you wanna remind me what the treatment for concussion is, again?" Donnie asked, loudly.

Leo's teeth clicked shut and he turned away, jaw clenching.

"Yeah." Donnie crossed his arms, shivering despite the heat in his body. "That's what I thought."

The silence was far more strained.

"Why do we have to keep arguing in circles all the time?" Leo said, sore and tired.

"Because we're both too stubborn for our own good." Donnie replied, a little muffled, equally tired.

Leo sighed. "Listen. I don't wanna pull this out, but it seems a little unfair for you to be against me going out to find food considering what happened last night."

"You're really gonna blame me for my decisions made in a feverish haze?" Donnie said, even as a wire began to choke him, tightly knotted around his trachea at the thought of how quick he was to get on his feet and leave Leo behind. It was a stupid decision.

"You can't say you don't want me to leave you alone, then leave me alone in the same breath." Leo replied, sharp words like a knife sliding between Donnie's ribs. Precise and calculated to win.

"Oh, please." Donnie snapped, reactionary to that pain. "As if you have a problem leaving me."

Leo flinched and looked visibly hurt. He said, "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Come on, you think I haven't noticed how eager you are to get away from me?" Donnie pulled his good leg up to hug, feeling miserable all over, a whole-body affliction, and probably not about Leo at all. But Leo was the only one there.

"Eager -- D, you're being ridiculous."

"Ridiculous." Donnie scoffed, loud, and hurt too. "Don't dismiss my feelings."

Leo's expression snapped. "Dismiss what feelings, robot boy? Is this really what you want to do right now? Pick a fight with me for, what? Trying to keep us alive? Just because you're too desperate to let me out of your sight?"

It was Donnie's turn to flinch. A wave of red-hot upset rolled over him, and he spat back, "Tell me how you really feel, wow, thank you so much for those kind words from my brother in our moments of suffering. Which is sarcasm, by the way."

"I know it's sarcasm, you don't have to tell me, I'm not tone-deaf like you."

"Please, try harder to be mean. I know you're only saying that on purpose to upset me."

"Oh, you know that, huh?" Leo said, and oh, it was Donnie's absolute least favourite thing, a mocking tone of voice. That red-hot rushed all the way up his head and he felt tears sting the corners of his eyes.

"f*ck you." Donnie tried to sound acidic, bulletproof, steel and wit. He sounded f*cking pathetic.

It was always just like Leo, to take a fight he didn't even want to have and win it thoroughly. Donnie turned away from him, keeping himself distinctly separate, and stared at the opposite wall. Viciously biting back tears in his already feverish eyes.

"What's the plan here, huh?" Donnie asked the wall, voice rippling in upset he could not disguise. "You're trying to piss me off enough that I'll just let you go again? Because you think, in some f*cked up way that I could ever hate you enough to want you punished for it? Want you dead? Is that what you think of me?"

No reply. Donnie shuddered through a breath or two, keeping the tears at bay like holding in a leaking damn with only two palms.

"Well?" Donnie prompted, when there was still nothing. "Come on, where's your bravado, where's your sharp tongue now? I'm in for the full twin experience as I have been since day one. Hit me with your best shot, you damn asshole."

"Nothing's changed." Leo spoke, and his own voice was rasping, possibly choking back his own tears. "It's still the same as before, I need to go and find food. You are too injured to move and have to stay here. You were fine with it before."

"Fine with it is a very generous statement. And that was before you were concussed."

"It won't slow me down." Leo cleared his throat, steadying his tone. "My head hurts, but I can manage otherwise. Maybe it's not a bad infection right now, but if I start dragging you around out there you'll definitely get one. And I'll be honest, your presence would just kind of be a weight I don't need."

Donnie flinched again at that, the word burden pulsing in his brain. He asked for his asshole twin to talk to him, so here they were.

"You could get killed out there." Donnie said, the flash of blood on his swaying twin's teeth burnt into his mind.

"And we could get killed in here. It's no different, it's just a damn illusion of safety. What if whatever you saw yesterday was real? I have to try. Damn it, Donnie, I have to at least try to save you."

"Save us." Donnie couldn't kept it down his throat anymore.

"What?" Leo snapped back, thrown.

"Save us, you sacrificial f*cking lamb. You have to save us. I'm tired of pretending that you're being in any way healthy about this whole situation." Donnie felt like he was living in a dream he had, of hanging off a ledge holding onto his brother, only for him to chop his own arm off.

"Oh, excuse, let me just get my damn handbook on the healthy behaviours in hell!" Leo exclaimed, the sound of his voice pinging sharp echoes back and forth and back and forth in the small space.

"As if this started here!" Donnie whirled around to shout back, only to be treated with the sight of Leo cringing and grabbing his head. Guilt was a punch socked in his stomach, but he swallowed the apologies before they could escape his throat. He didn't want Leo to make the fatal error of thinking he was sorry for his words, which he wasn't, just at the volume he said them.

"I had to fix it." Leo's lip snarled up, face dark, meeting Donnie's furious stare head on. "Just like I have to fix this. The stupid decision you made to follow me here."

All the wild emotions threw themselves up and rattled around. Donnie breathed heavily through his nose, rendered almost speechless from the targeted attack. All his weak points at once. The overwhelmed feeling tangled his tongue up in a heavy lock. He managed to choke out, "You are not going anywhere."

Leo's blazing stare said, how are you going to stop me?

Donnie inhaled, and met it with all his own willpower in his gaze, how are you going to make me?

Eyes flickering over Donnie's form. Neither of them wanted to break the stand-off first. And as Donnie watched, he saw the strategic plans form in Leo's mind, a blueprint developing, then he turned away. He broke the gaze first, shuffling further from Donnie's side, and hugged his arms around himself.

He didn't look at Donnie. There was absolutely no indication what he'd decided, beyond the obviously calculated give-up by breaking away first.

But Donnie didn't believe it for a second. He stared, narrowed and trying in his pain-riddled, hot-feverish brain to determine what kind of play this was. What his brother would give up in order to win. Because this was obviously something where Leo was three moves ahead, and Donnie couldn't see the big picture enough to know what he was standing to lose.

The two stayed separated, barely on the edge of their nest on either side, not speaking. Time passed slow. They slept a little on either side, had a little more water. The frosty silence cutting between them.

Donnie was dragged down by the multitude of agonies again and again. He slept unevenly, feeling prickled and unsafe without anything to hold onto.

And the third time he woke, Leo was gone.

[]

Raph knew that the moment Mikey was released from the med bay that he would have to confront answering that question again.

His baby brother was practically shredded from the effort, the blistered cracks underneath his bandages still managing to spot the white with red. And Raph knew that it hurt, because his hands hurt too. Crawling like fire ants, stinging relentlessly and keeping him awake at night. He could only imagine how Mikey felt, because his hands were worse.

And yet. There was no doubt in Raph's mind that Mikey was going to try and find a way to save them as soon as he was released, come hell or high water. Raph had no idea what he was going to do -- if it was his responsibility to help him or stop him.

It felt like being pulled in two different directions. Like being compressed between two opposite magnets. On one hand, the idea of his brothers locked in a prison dimension with a monster was actually torture, it hurt more than anything he'd ever experienced, stealing his breath away when he so much as thought about it. His mind was capable of running different horrific scenarios, the idea that they were already dead and any efforts were too late, the idea that they were alive and suffering, the idea that they needed Raph and he wasn't there, he was dithering and useless.

On the other hand, it was the moment the blood drained from Mikey's face and he collapsed. That they could try and save them, and kill his baby brother. That he would ever willingly put Mikey into danger. As Dad said, their lives weren't currency. And that was even considering if they could succeed -- what about the nightmare scenario that they try and fail and he loses Mikey too?

It had been a week since he last set eyes on the twins, and Raph felt as if he hadn't escaped the panic attack he was swimming in for even a moment. Completely incapable of making any decision, even simple ones, agonizing and agonizing and feeling like he had never been more of a failure of a brother than he was right now.

When Draxum declared Mikey well enough to escape the med bay, Raph was waiting for him to appear, because he knew all his brothers like the back of his hand. And Mikey was a force of nature, he was the sun -- a burning unstoppable star ready and waiting -- and he was going to come bursting into Raph's room to get around Splinter's decree that they could not try again.

"Raphael." Mikey announced, bursting in his room, face painted in grim determination that could throw skyscrapers. "Come on, get up, we've got work to do."

"Hey Mike." Raph held out his hands, bandaged in mirror to him. "Come here a sec?"

Mikey hesitated in the doorway, visible conflict. "You're not talking me out of this. You have to help me, I know you want them back too."

"Come 'ere." Raph repeated, just as stubborn.

Mikey got close enough that he couldn't escape the hug Raph swallowed him in. Luckily, he didn't attempt, melting into his bigger arms and squeezing Raph tight.

He held onto his baby brother. He didn't know what the right thing to do was. He needed to figure this out. He needed to be cunning like Leo and smart like Donnie.

"Raph." Mikey began to squirm, the longer Raph just held him and said nothing.

"Sorry." Raph let go, still at a loss of what he was meant to do, but knowing if he didn't stick with Mikey then his brother was going to do it with or without him. "What are you thinking?"

"You're going to help?" Mikey said, stars in his eyes, leaning back enough to scan Raph's face for the truth.

Raph tried to draw on all the parts of him that would've gotten osmosis from the twins over the years to say, attempting to sound in any way confident, "We can't just attempt the same thing a second time. It didn't work, we need to change some... variables? Is that the word?"

"Yeah. Draxum's here, we should talk to him." Mikey tugged on Raph's hand, dragging him from his room. "He must have some idea that we haven't thought of, he knows all this mystic stuff super well."

"Sounds like a good place to start." Raph let himself be pulled along, let himself float along in the unstoppable current of his brother. He didn't say that if Draxum had some idea, he would've told them already.

Mikey stopped dead in the hallway, throwing back his arm to stall Raph, eyes narrowed. Raph stopped too, slipping into ninja mode on reflex, hearing what Mikey caught -- that Draxum was already talking, with Dad of all people.

They crept closer, just barely getting within earshot.

"... the cracks will have to heal in their own time." Draxum was saying, voice low and solemn. "But there is nothing more that confining him to the med bay will help."

"You have not known Michelangelo as long as I have." Splinter replied, equally grave, but with a hint of desperation. "He will have run directly to Raphael to talk his brother into trying again. Any healing he's accomplished will swiftly be undone. And perhaps even made worse. I don't know how I can bear to put my foot down and stop them, when I think about..."

A choked cut off.

"It is a miracle that Michelangelo is alive at all." Draxum said, into the resulting silence. Slow and measured. "It was the correct decision to stop him."

"There is no stopping. Slowing, perhaps. Redirecting, if we are lucky. But he will not give up."

"And Raphael?"

Raph felt numb all over, limbs TV static. He didn't want to hear what Dad had to say about his cowardice, his crushing fear and indecision and failure. Mikey flashed his eyes at him, looking, listening, but didn't give Raph any indication of what he was thinking.

"Red puts his whole heart and soul into protecting his brothers. I could not be prouder at his dedication, but it would have him ripped to shreds at the moment. I fear for his mental state if ... ah. Well. There is no path I can foresee that will not be agony for my sweet son."

Mikey reached out and gripped Raph's arm. He didn't say anything. Neither of them moved, waiting and listening. Hoping for more. Hoping for something else.

"What about you?" Draxum asked.

"What about me?" Splinter repeated, in a haunted voice. "I want to hold my Blue. I want to tell my Purple how proud of him I am. I would give up almost anything for them, but I will not give up my remaining sons. You have been in their lives a short time, Draxum, but I know they have touched you. Imagine how I must feel to lose my whole world. They are ..."

Raph felt torn apart. And the world itself may have ended, when the tears cracked down the middle of Splinter's words, and he pleaded, "I want my twin babies back."

"I cannot give you them back." Draxum said, and his own tone had actually gotten a little gravelly too. "The risks are innumerable. Let alone the power it takes to crack a hole in the dimension that is specifically designed to lock its inhabitants inside, you risk letting out the same thing you set to trap. You risk breaking the universes apart only to find the dead bodies of your sons. You risk the world."

"I told you, my world is in there." Splinter said, voice tired. "Please. Tell me there is some alternative. Tell me there is something we haven't considered. Please, I do not beg for much but I will do anything. There must be something."

The quiet was so loud. Raph waited for the magic words, for the hope to lit again. He waited. And he kept waiting.

"I'm sorry, Lou." Draxum said, and he did sound sorry. It didn't help the sunken rock in Raph's stomach. It didn't help the way his chest felt like it was expanding and collapsing at once from senseless anxiety that had not eased, not even for a moment.

Mikey's face was shadowed when he spun around and dragged Raph away, not even approaching the two. Raph followed, uncaring if they heard the retreat, numb all over, numb to feeling and to sensation and just numb numb numb.

Mikey locked them in his room, taking up a rapid pace up and down the length, shaking out his hands and breathing hard. He muttered, "He's wrong, he's wrong. There's something, I know there's something."

"Careful of your hands, Mikes." Raph said, through the numbness.

"I don't give a sh*t about my hands!" Mikey exploded, and the pace was a tight wind, back and forth. "He wasn't lying, he would've told Dad more than he was ever gonna tell us anyway, so we will just have to find something else ourselves. Fine! Fine. We can do that. We can do anything. We are Hamato."

"We are Hamato." Raph echoed, like putting the words into the atmosphere would make him believe it, would make him feel anything.

"We could do it this time." Mikey whirled on Raph, eyes wild and huge. "We could. My ninpo was drained from fighting last time. If we tried right now, I know we could get it, baby. I'm all good and healed up, Barry even said so. I could do it now."

Raph stared at him. He knew, that if he said no, that Mikey would do it anyway. Left alone for longer than two minutes, his baby brother would tear himself to pieces at the smallest chance.

"You heard Dad." Mikey accused, when Raph didn't speak. "He wants his twin babies back." And Mikey's voice cracked in the exact same place Splinter's had. "We need to do this for him. We need to -- before it's too late. We need to do this. Raph, I need you to do this with me."

Something about the desperation in Mikey's stare reminded him of Leo so much it hurt, the jump into the portal, the 'hero moves are totally your style'. And Donnie had leap in after him, that the smartest person he'd ever met looked at that situation and decided that was the best way to fix it.

Raph couldn't go anywhere. But there had to be another solution, because they were Hamato, they were special, they had so much power, skills and untapped potential --

Then a calm settled over Raph. An idea emerged. He inhaled deeply, taking a moment to sort through the options, to be the best of all his brothers. All the things they'd taught him over the years. Being Hamato was not being alone, it was give and take, it was everything.

"I will do it with you." Raph promised, and Mikey had never been more like the sun with how he lit up with hope. "But we will do it right. I have an idea."

"Raphie, you are amazing." Mikey breathed, and threw himself at him. "Really? Truly?"

Raph caught him and clutched his baby brother close, spinning him around and nuzzling the side of his head. "Of course, Mikey. Of course. You just need to trust me, okay?"

"I trust you." Mikey vowed, squeezing tight. "What do we need to do?"

Raph inhaled. He could do this. No. He would do this. There was no other option, with his brothers involved.

Chapter 12

Chapter Text

The anger was easy, at first. It burnt hot and bright, like standing next to a blistering bonfire. Crackling flames crawling up his throat, and he screamed Leo's name.

No reply. Donnie was alone. He was alone, and he didn't even know where Leo had gone. Sure, he could guess that he'd left again to get food, but he didn't know.

It was so easy for Leo to walk away from him. His twin always did exactly what he wanted and only that, and Donnie couldn't stop him.

The spitting rage at his brother could not sustain him. A chasm opened up in his chest, yawning sheer cliff-sides of despair. It was so poignant and strong it felt as if the power of it may just kill him. He had screamed that he didn't want Leo to leave him alone. And Leo had left. And Donnie had no way of knowing, in this moment, if he would ever see him again.

For his whole life Donnie had wished he had one power. Well, okay, the power to summon constructs with his mind was pretty freaking cool. But even though he didn't believe in magic, he'd always wished for one thing in particular.

Anytime something bad was happening, anything something changed, Donnie would live in this state of suspension, of waiting to find out if it was going to be okay. And he hated the way it made him feel, like he was standing in the middle of a tightrope, breathless. Suspended and unable to move forwards or backwards.

And Donnie would grind the thoughts in his mind in the world's worst rumination, stuck in place until things were better.

When they had been forced to move, Donnie hated it, he felt like it was the end of the world and he'd never be okay with their new lair. Then a few months down the road it was easy as breathing, and he wished over and over that he could reach back into the past and tell that Donnie who was so torn up over change that it would be okay, he didn't have to feel like that.

That was the other half of time travel conundrum. If it was real, then he'd already have the lottery numbers. And he'd know everything was going to be okay.

Donnie wanted to beg and plead with his future self to send him a message, any kind of sign that it was going to be okay. Because having to exist with this feeling inside him was too much, he couldn't stand it for another second.

Then another second passed and another second passed and another second passed. Leo still wasn't there. Donnie was still alive.

A hundred thousand things he wanted to scream at his twin came to mind and dissolved into the ether just as quickly as they came, because he wasn't there. The cave was cold and frost slicked. Their pile of scraps was reduced to barely enough to make a proper nest, having been pillaged for bandages. The silence had its persistent low-level hum that infested his brain with a plague of unnerving wasps. And the pain was an unspoken monster hunched against the ceiling, grinning with multitudes of teeth and promises. He would die here. He would die here alone.

Donnie couldn't breathe. He hunched over his stomach, trying to draw breath in, trying to stop how it felt like the cave walls were closing in on him. He attempted to do what he had before, to tell himself he was strong and powerful and he could protect himself -- but it failed to work this time, because he was feverish and in pain and weak and useless and his corpse would make a lovely addition to this fine cave. Maybe he could peel back the bandages, dip his fingers in his festering wounds and paint the walls in his own blood. What would he say? I love you?

Hysteria encircled his trachea. Despite the anger, the despair, everything, the answer hadn't changed. It was loving his family that killed him. Even with everything, he wouldn't change a thing. What a foolish genius he was. How mortal of him.

It was absolutely impossible to tell how much time had passed, because Donnie was swimming in the relentless thrums of a panic attack. It could've been minutes or days. And then there was a flash of blue, and the world restarted again.

More than just the lithe figure of his twin, a loud thud of something heavy and fleshy hitting the stone floor and echoing harshly in the space. Donnie held his breath, staring with huge eyes at the sudden appearance of his twin, anxiously scanning for injuries.

Leo was trembling, but there was no pour of blood, just an incredibly uneven smile, eyes desolate. But even so, he spoke in a fabricated voice around all that, "I got you a burger."

Donnie didn't have any words at all. He flickered his eyes down, to the thing that Leo had brought along, and ew? Gross?

All pink flesh, a bloody wound split through the centre that matched the drip-drip of blood off the blade of Leo's sword. A flop of four spindly legs lined with sharp claws, and an unhinged jaw of equally dangerous teeth. It might, generously, be called a dog.

Donnie opened his mouth to say something and he was door-slammed with non-verbal, unable to so much as breathe a consonant. He swallowed, trying to catch up with the last few moments. It was something to have to reel himself back from the black spiral of what felt so certainly like death.

Leo sheathed his sword on his back and approached Donnie with his hands up. He said, "Yikes. Hi. I'm sorry. I'm really sorry, okay? I shouldn't have done that. But it's okay, because I got food. You're gonna be okay now. I'm sorry."

Donnie couldn't help but flinch, because Leo had no idea what he'd just put Donnie through. And Leo stopped his approach, looking momentarily destroyed, before he tucked it away with a travesty of a smile. "I get it. I get it. I'll just. I'll work on this."

His twin turned around and grabbed his spoils, dragging the corpse away from their nest before inspecting the hound from all angles, lifting the limbs and checking for obviously the best place to cut. Donnie struggled through breathing.

A spill of blood on the cave floor as Leo hacked off a section of Kraang hound. Donnie did some tactical breathing, not taking his eyes off Leo, because Leo was there. Leo brought him food.

Donnie felt his understanding blossom, as he anticipated what was about to happen. Leo was going to make him a burger and Donnie was going to eat it, because he was so hungry that there was no universe where he had the willpower to turn it away, to stick to his guns and not eat the only food in this entire hell.

And the day before, when Leo had stared at him and looked away with a plan in his eyes, he had known that.

The fury washed over him, along with helplessness and humiliation -- that Leo had known he couldn't uphold his implicit threat and taken advantage of that.

Leo approached him again, hovering and looking worried. He was holding a slab of truly disgusting looking meat, slimy and fresh. He didn't say anything.

Donnie struggled with his words, trying to gather them, trying to slot the puzzle pieces into place. It was all cobbled, and maybe if Leo wasn't standing there with his f*cking mask tied around sh*tty bandages on his forehead and swaying, well. Donnie was always weak for his twin. He didn't forgive him, but he flapped a hand irritably for him to sit. He could yell at him after they ate.

"Boil or sear?" Leo asked, fingers dripping with the disgusting blood.

Donnie had no idea. It was Kraang, so he'd really prefer if it was triple dead. He pulled two fingers through his open palm. 'Both?'

"Couldn't hurt, I guess. We'll need water first, then."

By the time they'd fumbled through boiling a pot of water, Donnie got his voice back. He wasn't sure what he wanted to say with it, because he didn't want to scream at Leo, and there wasn't anything else coming to mind.

"Feel so wrong to be boiling it like it's f*cking potatoes." Leo muttered, and dropped the slab into the boiling pot. The joke fell heavy and unacknowledged between them, and Leo's shoulders hiked up higher. He watched the steam billow with some primal hurt on his face. He didn't speak again, and neither did Donnie.

Emotions took turns battering Donnie. But the physical sensation of hunger was the loudest. It was all consuming, a limitless void. They let the meat boil for ages, until they pulled the grey meat out and stared at the monstrosity. It felt like a particularly low moment for them to look at that and know they were going to have to eat it.

Donnie broke his silence to say, "We can never tell Mikey about this."

"Oh my gosh." Leo smiled like it hurt. "Somewhere at home right now he just got so offended."

Donnie snorted. They discarded the disgusting water to sear the meat on the bottom of the pot, using it to clean the blood off Leo's sword, with Donnie trying not to let on how much the extended energy was draining him.

"That's probably enough." Leo said, once the whole cave smelt unencouragingly of something one might call meat, obviously catching onto Donnie's struggle.

"I'd really rather overcook the meat of the beings capable of taking people's mind over." Donnie pointed out, dry as sandpaper.

Leo fell quiet again and let him cook the flesh to practically a crisp, making sure to get the heat all the way through and kill anything lurking inside. Only then did they shut off the little purple camping stove and stare at their food. The first meal in over a week.

Donnie swallowed nervously. He reached out to poke it, finding it had an unappetizing toughness. Probably all the overcooking. But the texture of it was going to be hell, he already knew. Gingerly, he peeled off a strip like beef jerky and gave it a sniff. It did not smell appealing in the slightest.

But Donnie was hungry. He wanted a damn burger. Here it was. He put it in his mouth, and oh man. Urgh. The texture alone was horrific. But the taste just elevated it to, hey look, there's new levels of misery you can experience in this hell! Chew on this leather sock! Don't think about the bleeding dead pink fleshy dog leaking blood on the other side of your tomb!

Chew. Chew. Chew a bit more. Donnie swallowed and it almost caught in his throat. He sat very still for a second, wrestling with Vomitello. The small fist of his stomach spun like a tilt-a-whirl. But once it settled, he was already tearing another bite off with his teeth. It was consumable. It was food.

Leo was watching him ravenously, eyes tracking as he chewed and swallowed, not making any move to touch the meat himself. A small measure of the tension in his shoulders leaked out the more that Donnie managed to eat.

"You don't need an invitation, Leon." Donnie said, once he managed to swallow.

"I..." Leo paused and shook his head. "You go first."

Donnie's stomach rolled from more than just the meat. He licked the char off his fingers, starving for the sustenance in the most disgusting way, and found himself absolutely perplexed by his brother. He said, searching, "Why?"

"I'm still feeling nauseous." Leo touched his bandaged head in show. "You just... you eat, okay?"

His jaw hurt from the effort needed to chew down the tough meat enough to swallow. His saliva was thick with fatty juices. Donnie pointed out, all of his trying to sound reasonable coloured wrong, "You literally haven't eaten in a week, Nardo. Even if you threw it up, it'd be better than nothing."

"I will eat." Leo promised.

Everything inside Donnie said not to believe him. It just didn't make any sense. What was he fulfilling by denying himself the food they'd fought so hard to get -- that specifically Leo had put himself through hell for? What did it prove?

Never before in his entire life had Donnie wanted to crawl into Leo's brain more. Everything was just so ridiculous. That they'd screamed at each other the day before. That he'd left Donnie alone while he was sleeping. That he'd shown up with the thing they needed to survive and now he wasn't touching it?

And a louder insecurity. That apparently it was obvious that Donnie wouldn't have the willpower to refuse the food when offered, but Leo did. He could do anything he wanted, including walk away from Donnie at any time with seemingly no consequences.

There was something inside Leo stronger than anything else that was happening out here. And it scared the sh*t out of Donnie, that there was a darkness that might be powerful enough to take his twin away from him. That he could claw at Leo to stay at his side like the fingernail scrapes down his forearm from when Prime tore them apart, but it would do nothing. That Leo would theoretically portal chop his own arm off just to give Donnie another ten minutes.

Donnie wanted to shake him, rattle him until his teeth knocked, because there was so much he was furious at Leo for, and it wasn't going to fix a single thing. The constant struggle that Donnie knew what Leo was doing, that he was doing something stupid, and he was continually powerless to fix it. A lovely little personal hell, in this much larger hell.

The meat quickly filled his shrunken stomach. Donnie felt a wave of exhaustion, heavy and sluggish, leaning back and pressing against the cramped pain of eating. He breathed through the urge to vomit, not wanting to lose a single nutrient, if there were any nutrients in a damn Kraang hound.

"Good?" Leo asked, something a little desperate in his tone that he could not mask completely.

"Good isn't the word I'd use." Donnie rubbed his eyes, sorting through the thick sensation taking over his body. "Repugnant, perhaps. Maybe even noxious."

"Don't throw up." Leo said.

"I'd seriously rather only taste this once, believe me." Donnie kicked the pot of horrifically cooked meat closer to his twin. "Your turn."

Leo hesitated.

Donnie let the steel flicker in his gaze, even through the fog of pain and heaviness. "You said you would."

"I ... did say that." Leo didn't even look down at the pot, chewing on his lip. Arms hugging himself from either side.

"You did." Donnie raised one scathing eyebrow. "Listen, you have forestalled my wrath at your decision so that I could eat the first f*cking food I've had in a week. Consider that the ceasefire will be over very shortly, and you are going to want the fact that you've eaten on your side."

Leo audibly swallowed. He glanced down at the unappealing lump and said, "It took you a lot of energy to cook this. I just... I don't want that to be wasted."

Donnie stared at him as if he'd started speaking another language. "What is actually wrong with you? I cooked it specifically for us to eat, it wouldn't be wasting it?"

"You're injured, you need it more."

"You're injured too!" Donnie was apparently getting to the yelling early, whoops. And it was a shame he did, because Leo flinched and grabbed his head, solidly proving his point. He immediately dropped to a whisper-yell, "What, you think that headache is just for fun? You think I didn't get a front row seat to how much Prime metaphorically scrambled your egghead? You need food, stop being difficult and eat it."

"Hypocrite." Leo muttered, barely audible, looking away.

"Oh, buddy, you do not wanna do this right now." Donnie said, through gritted teeth.

The flash of pain on Leo's face said yeah, he probably didn't. But he buckled down and replied, tongue like a razor, "Hey, I just learned from the best, okay?"

Donnie reminded himself that Leo was hungry and that made him an asshole. He pointed firmly at the rapidly cooled meat and said, "You want to keep me alive, right? You want to protect me? You're not good to me if you're weak and hungry. So eat."

Leo expression locked down like Fort Knox. His jaw flexed. For a moment, Donnie thought he might get up and leave again. But after a moment he finally snatched up the meat and tore a piece off.

"I hate you." Leo said, tone harsh and mean, and put the piece in his mouth to begin the long process of chewing.

"Feeling's mutual." Donnie snapped and flopped back, exhausted that his biggest battles in this damn place were against his own stupid twin. He breathed heavily, staring at the ceiling instead of watching Leo struggle through the disgusting meal. He felt a little ill, the swim of stomach acid giving a bite of reflux up his throat.

Chewing. Another pull of meat. More chewing. It was a bit of a sensory hell to listen to, but at least it meant Leo was finally, finally eating. Maybe they had a chance. Certainly with food in his stomach, it felt a little more like they might. If they could rebuild their energy, if they could find a way to get home, maybe it would all be worth it.

A hollow thunk. Donnie glanced over to see Leo tossed the meat hunk back into the pot. To his relief, he'd made a good dent.

"Are you going to yell at me now?" Leo asked, and he was coated in the same tiredness that soaked and saturated Donnie the moment he had food in his stomach.

"Tell me why I'm mad at you." Donnie asked.

Leo's face flickered in conflict. It was an old game, meant to defuse even the most nuclear of the twin's fights. One of Splinter's secret weapons, where he would ask not what the other did -- but what they themselves had done wrong.

Even providing it as an option was a peace offering, that Donnie didn't want to scream at him and see that flinch. The anger was hot. The cave was much colder.

Leo inhaled. He exhaled. "I betrayed your trust and left when you were vulnerable and asleep to do exactly what you had asked me not to do." Then he shook his head. "You don't have to do this."

"Do what?" Donnie asked, trying not to let his frustration show.

"Forgive me."

"Leon." Donnie said, and didn't know where to go, how to play this game when Leo was trying to sabotage himself.

"Come on. I thought you hated me?" And that only proved his point, as the joking question was drenched in insecurity. In this strange desire for Donnie to just -- to hate him for what?

Donnie stared at his twin, cataloguing the misery, the exhaustion, and the resignation -- and wondered at what point Leo stopped following the fundamental rule that they fought, they made up, because they were twins and the whole point was that there wasn't a line they couldn't cross and not come back from, just like there wasn't a hell Donnie wouldn't jump into for him. As if he was going to stop loving him now.

"Leon." Donnie said again, then cleared his throat, because it caught. "I am furious with you. I genuinely don't think I've ever been this truly angry. But you have to understand. L, look at me. Look at me."

Reluctantly, Leo's eyes beginning to rim with red and too much emotion to name met his.

"I love my twin more today than I have every day before now." Donnie promised.

"What the f*ck is wrong with you?" Leo asked, and his voice cracked.

"You're not playing the game right." Donnie pointed out, faking a mild tone. "You're meant to ask me now."

Leo shook his head, knuckles going white where he clutched his hands together in his lap. "I'm not mad at you."

"Not even a little?" Donnie smiled, as evil as he could make it considering the moment. "The yelling you did earlier says otherwise. How about for being a hypocrite? Leaving you alone to take on a theoretical Prime by myself? That just makes you feel warm and fuzzy inside, does it?"

Leo's jaw worked, and he turned his head away. Leo didn't want to play the game, because he didn't play games he couldn't win.

"Maybe for emotionally blackmailing you into eating. Hell, for the whole thing about refusing to drink the water. And goodness, Leonardo, you can't tell me you're not still pissed at me for jumping in here in the first place. Even I can tell when you mean what you say, and you sure as hell meant that." Donnie dug in hard, stubborn and unrelenting.

Their sins laid out between them. Each admitting their own. It did as it always had when Splinter implemented the strategy, taking the wind out of their sails. They both f*cked up.

Dad wasn't there to play mediator, but the words came easily, a hundred times he stood between two twins trying to tear each other apart because they knew better than anyone exactly how. Donnie asked, "Leo, do you still love me?"

"That's not fair." Leo said, and the tears welled up dangerously in the corners of his eyes.

"Tick tock." Donnie pretended to look at a watch he didn't have, goading. "Come on, if I don't hear it, I'm going to think my twin doesn't love me. I'm going to take to heart all your sh*t. Or did you mean it? Do you hate me now? Wanna stop being twins? That's it, sixteen years was good enough, you're done with me now?"

"Donnie, stop." Thick, wet tears fell and rolled fast down either cheek, a clear path through dirt and grime. Leo's voice was precarious, on the edge, trembling.

"I'm waiting." Donnie ignored the shattered glass of his heart at watching Leo cry and making no move to fix it.

The tears dripped off Leo's chin. He was breathing heavy, white knuckles and rapid blinks. There was a river full of rapids of hurt between them, a swallowing distance untouched by either side. Leo left Donnie alone. Donnie made Leo cry. Stalemate.

"You know." Leo said, wet and unstable. "I don't have to tell you, you already know."

"Nope, you absolutely have to tell me." Donnie leaned back, allowing what little steel he had left to flint his gaze. What strength remained to be an unmovable object against the unstoppable force of his twin. "You want your damn penance? Answer my question. Do you still love me?"

A full body shudder. Leo tried to stem the tears, messy hands scrubbing at his face and making it all worse, sniffing huge and gross. His hands were shaking. He opened his mouth, then shut it. A small flush of colour on his cheeks.

"I can give you my answer again, if you'd like." Donnie said, around the knife stuck in his throat. "That I will not stop being your twin, not until the day I die. Maybe even then. And I meant what I said, there is no such thing as me loving you less. It builds on itself. It won't ever stop. You can't ever stop me from loving you. So don't bother trying."

The cave was left with only the sound of Leo's ragged breathing and gasping sobs. Donnie stared him down, the fragments of his heart shuddering in second-hand agony, as if seeing Leo's pain was the same as feeling it himself, all the way down to his bones.

His resolve was fracturing. He wanted to comfort Leo, to say it was okay, that he wasn't mad anymore, that he just wanted them to be okay. But Donnie held out a moment longer, just a moment longer, because he didn't want to lose this battle. He had no idea what was going through Leo's head anymore, what clouds of ash were shadowing his thoughts, what made him stare off into nothing, made him try to give up his water, his food, but worst of all seemed to be clogging his throat from the words that had always been so easy for Leo to say.

"You know I love you." Leo whispered, broken.

"Rephrase it as a definitive statement." Donnie said. Relentless.

Shining eyes shut and another pour of tears down either side of his face. Leo said, in a crackling voice, "I love you, Donnie."

"Was that so hard?" Donnie said, and immediately crawled over to reward his twin with an engulfing hug, unable to take another single second of not wrapping his arms around his sobbing brother to console him.

Leo clutched his arm and judging by the way his lungs wracked with sobs, yeah. It was that hard.

Donnie really wanted to maim anyone who made his twin cry. Unfortunately, that was him this time. It just -- it didn't make any logical sense. It was always how the game went. Splinter forced them to admit what they'd done wrong, then made them say that they loved each other anyway. The formula of it since they were little kids fighting over a skateboard. The first part was the one that took forever, when Donnie pretended he'd never done anything wrong in his life, or Leo started making up entirely different fake offences. The hard part was never the 'I love you'. That was the end of every phone call they'd ever had, that was under purple track-lights in the middle of the night, that was with huge eyes at the best birthday present ever.

Donnie thought about all the pieces he had in front of him. That Leo picked a fight with him, tried to get Donnie to punish him, to hate him, to hate him, as if that wasn't his personal hell. Like he didn't want Donnie to love him anymore.

And he remembered an admittance made between a pot of water, after words written in blood on a tomb wall. And what if loving me is what kills you?

Leo said, "I do love you, I do, I -- I love you and I'm -- I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry." But he could barely speak past his gasps for air, distraught and frantic. Fingers scrambling to pull Donnie closer, to keep him there.

Donnie read between the lines like the genius he was. I'm so sorry that I love you. He tucked Leo's head under his chin and squeezed, careful of the head wound still haphazardly bandaged with his blue mask, careful of his own leg stuck out to the side. And he said, "You're so stupid, how can you fit so much stupid in there?"

The line Leo was supposed to say, something loud about calling him stupid while he was crying, did not emerge. So this was a level of upset that Donnie had not actually seen before. The feeling of holding together his falling apart twin was something he never wanted to experience again, stomach swooping and world ending.

"Hey, Leon. My beloved brother. My dearest twin. Nardo." Donnie nudged him repeatedly, trying to bust past the incoherent sobs. "If I die in here, it's not because of you. It's because of that pink bubblegum motherf*cker. Got it?"

Leo dug his fingers in tighter at the mention of Donnie dying, and didn't stop crying long enough to otherwise acknowledge what he said.

Donnie sighed, and held him. All the anger at Leo's decision to leave him was cold and sour, because there was no punishment Donnie could ever invoke that would be worse than what Leo thought himself. Instead he was going to cry himself sick.

"If you throw up the only food we've eaten in a week I might actually kill you." Donnie poked his side, waiting for a response and getting none. "Hey. If you're gonna cry this much, then we're drinking some more water. Way to dehydrate, dude."

Leo punched more sobs. Donnie sighed a second time, louder and more pointed, and tried to untangle himself to stand. But then he was pulled to a stop by his hand.

"D?" Leo said.

"You need water." Donnie pointed out, and they had no more ice left inside the cave.

Leo shook his head.

Fine. Idiot. "I need water." Donnie tried again.

Slick fingers on damp face were ineffectual to clean the flood of tears. Leo rasped, "Your leg. Let me do it."

"Let me use you as a crutch. I want a walk."

Leo's expression wavered, still struggling to catch his breath, but having a task obviously helped as he composed himself enough to stand.

They limped outside, Donnie practically dragging his leg, Leo squinting immediately at the brighter light of the stars. Leo left him in sightline by the mouth of the cave as he fetched another brick of ice. Donnie traced his fingers around the blood-stained fingerprints he'd left on the outside wall, glad that they didn't have to be separated again. He couldn't take it right now, not even for a moment.

Two twins and a block of ice lumbered back into their hole. They chipped at the block, boiled and drank water, and Leo collapsed to sleep in Donnie's arms.

The walls echoed with the enamel grind of his teeth, but it didn't even send a shiver up Donnie's spine anymore. Instead it was the best sound in the world.

Heh. The standards in hell.

His pain was hovering around an uncomfortable four. The bloat of his stomach began to digest, a bit of a painful stretch but it was miles better than the clawing, endless hunger. With the addition of some water, a bit of the hammer smashing headache eased, and Donnie felt...

He felt a lot of things. No real capability of pulling them apart, more like a tangle of indistinguishable wires that would take a year to separate. He breathed in a steady cycle, hand on Leo's arm as his brother breathed in time, clutching him close.

And then, easy as anything, the walls of the cave lit up red.

It was unbelievable how suddenly Donnie's blood could rush ice, ice cold. Like being dunked in a frozen river, the shock response causing an involuntary sharp inhale.

But how could he know they were there, how could he know? There wasn't --

Except there was. The same bloody fingerprints he'd mused over a couple hours prior, staining the wall of their hideaway. His stupid, stupid, stupid hunger ridden brain hadn't even considered the implications until now he had food in his stomach and he could think again, the paranoia of his strategic twin which would surely clocked that as a threat if he hadn't had a concussion himself. A wave of self-hatred crashed into him with an intensity he'd never experienced before, and...

Maybe it was a hallucination! Maybe he was just seeing things again. Maybe it wasn't real, and this time, this time if he just held still enough the red would fade and they would be safe. Neither of them hurt. Neither of them in danger.

Then the red flooded in, and movement flashing too-quick to capture, before Donnie was grabbed out of Leo's grip and yanked away.

Chapter 13

Chapter Text

A crush of air pushed forcefully from his lungs. The world spun rapidly at the sudden change in orientation, and there were rough claws holding Donnie up.

"Look at these pests, scurried in their little hole." Kraang Prime's voice shot alarmed shivers up Donnie's spine, and the adrenaline had his hands quaking as he tried futilely to peel the claws off his midsection, raising his eyes to see the disgusting pink face scowling at him from underneath a red searchlight.

"Leo!" Donnie attempted to scream, but it came out strangled and crushed from the pressure around his ribs. It stung hard, renewing an older wound.

Prime's gaze focused behind him, and his mouth spread into an insidious smile. "Oh, nice of you to join us. Looking for this?"

Donnie swung around in the constricting grip, managing to get a look at his twin brother and his thunderous expression, completely empty handed, the flutter of his mask bandage tails behind him. Following the gaze to Prime's free hand, which had his sword. Small and inaccessible in his grip.

Delirious panic pounded loud and relentless. Prime had the sword. Oh, they were well and truly f*cked. For a moment, Donnie thought — well at least the last conversation I had with Leo was how much I loved him, my writing on the wall.

“Donnie.” Leo said, voice commanding, even as it was woven with desperation.

And Donnie remembered he wasn’t f*cking dying today. That as long as he could still inhale he would be fighting for his family and sparked a flood of purple sparks, electrifying himself with as much power as he could stand to lose, burst all at once.

Then a rapid fall, as Prime reflexively released the thing shocking him. Donnie felt momentary, vindictive success — then a heavy foot pinned him to the ground. Intense claustrophobia at how each intersection of claws kept him firmly immobile, but especially how the arch was pressed against his throat. A failed inhale had his lungs struggle, unable to raise his hands to claw at the thing preventing him from breathing.

“So fragile and weak. There is no power here, just party tricks and evasion.” Prime loomed over him.

Instinctive panic was Donnie’s mouth open and gasping. Then precious air broke past his lungs as Prime was knocked back by a burst of fury and blue.

“How nice it was to bring such an obvious weak point along with you.” Prime parried the flurry of hits from Leo with a disinterested hand. The moment Donnie finished hacking air back into his lungs, he was fished up a second time. By the throat.

“With such a small and fragile respiratory system.” Prime mused, the horrible glint in his eye of hatred and fascination. “How have you even survived this long?”

Donnie tried to summon sparks, tried to gather up enough strength but he was dizzy and lost and there was a thunderous drum of his own heart beat clattering in his ears. But still he could hear a scream of pure rage, of absolute fury that Donnie had never heard from his twin before. Something anguished and feral.

“Let him go.” Leo snarled, face twisted into something unfamiliar. Another lunge was easily flicked back, sending Leo crashing into the outside wall of their cave.

With the tip of the blue hilted sword, Prime forced Donnie to raise his chin up.

“If you touch him one more time I’ll —“ Leo began, stumbling in his attempt to charge forward out of the crater.

“You’ll what.” Prime challenged, cutting his noxious gaze towards the remaining twin. “What power do you have? Where is your strength? If it is with your love, and with your family — then I have your world in my hands.”

Donnie struggled through a thready breath, the sword biting his soft inner throat. He didn’t move, vividly imagining the pour of blood that could erupt from the severing of his jugular, and the irreversible ending of his life.

He couldn’t do that to Leo. He stayed very still, hoping that at least Prime didn’t want the game to end so soon, to give Leo time to — to —

The ‘what’ hung heavy. What could they do? They could not run and they used up all their hide. Could they fight? If the four of them combined hadn’t been enough, what were two injured twins going to do?

No. No, they’d find a way. Donnie couldn’t think that, he couldn't be the pessimistic twin right now, because his life was the only thing keeping Leo alive, and the moment he was gone, so was Leo. He had to stay calm. He had to be what Leo couldn’t, not when the demolished destroyed devastation was written all over him.

“Stop.” Prime declared, tightening his bruising grip. Donnie shut his eyes to push down a wince and risk slicing his throat out. “This is my game now, my rules. I have your sword and your brother. Yield.”

Heavy breathing. Leo said nothing. Donnie liked it better when he couldn’t see his terrible expression, so he kept his eyes closed.

“Good.” Prime’s voice was a fake liquid praise. “See? That is strength. To make others do as you bid. You are going to stay there and you are going to watch.”

“Watch what?” Leo said, echoed, with audible dread.

The same dread dripping in Donnie's veins. He could imagine and knew it wasn't good for him.

Which he was right. He was dropped again, which maybe he could've landed on his feet if he had two good feet to land on. As it was, he let his left leg buckle on impact, though it wasn't enough to stop the pain rocketing to almost whited-out his vision. He was still blinking the stars from his eyes when there was a flash of metal and he reacted, summoning his bo staff and blocking the swing braced between two palms. On his knees, heaving for breath from pain, looking up at the intimidating form.

"No!" Leo shouted, and with Donnie's position not nearly as precarious he charged again, full speed with only his fists and bull-headed determination.

"Ridiculous." Prime scoffed, the sword giving an ominous sing as it slid off the length of the bo staff, twisting to meet the attack.

Donnie let out an ear-splitting whistle as he summoned a purple sword with his free hand to throw at his brother.

Leo caught the hilt in the same motion that he cut straight down, nicking a chunk of Prime's arm with a screech of metal. Then swooped out of the way from the slice of Prime's retaliation, rolling against the ground and coming to a stop in front of Donnie's kneel, posed with the glowing purple sword up, feet braced.

"Hm." Prime said. "I fail to see what you intend to accomplish. But alright. Entertain me, pest."

Leo breathed. In and out. Then he flashed forward, his trademark speed almost too quick to notice, as if Prime was being struck by lightning from multiple sides.

Donnie braced the bo staff to help him rise, carefully watching the blink of purple as Leo attempted to get any kind of upper hand -- even while Prime bore the assault with an idle amusem*nt, meeting each swing with an effortless parry with Leo's own sword in long, metal claws -- and Donnie was well aware that attempting to fight himself would likely end up getting in the way.

However, he could still be annoying. If they could get the real sword back, then maybe there was still hope.

Leo caught the two blades together, locked momentarily in an 'X', pushing hard. Donnie crept around Prime's legs, limping, to jam the end of his bo staff at the perfect angle to trip up Prime's feet when he lunged forward to push Leo back. A fumble, quickly caught, and Donnie used his staff to help propel backwards from the irritated swat.

"What a waste of time." Prime scoffed, and sliced down hard enough that Leo's construct sword burst in a fizzle of purple sparks, catching Leo on the back-swing to send him flying into the cave wall a second time, shaking the ground with the crack and crumble of rock. "How feeble your attacks are. Dull and boring. No. You are going to watch."

Prime raised his leg and slammed it into the wall. The surface cracked and splintered apart.

Leo leapt forward and Prime effortlessly snatched him from the air like a bug. Then he pinned Leo under a clawed foot and began to pull free a large section of rock.

The monster had his back to Donnie, who understood where this was going and summoned his battle shell. He couldn't run, not on this leg, but he could fly. He wasn't about to lay there and let this happen. A hop into the air, and maybe he should've run, maybe he should've drawn Prime away from Leo... but Donnie couldn't leave. Not now, not after everything. He would fight. There was nowhere to run, nowhere to hide, so he summoned a big ass drill. Prime pinned Leo to the ground with a rock, and when he turned back around Donnie sent the pointy end directly at his pink stupid face.

Prime stumbled back, only momentarily. As expected, it just pissed him off. Prime darted forward, sword up and ready, and Donnie flew out of range of the swing. The world spinning dizzy and off kilter from the rapid movement, oh boy. He managed two more dodges before desperately summoning a purple canon and firing ballistics like fireworks, hoping to pop a joint or something on that stupid mech.

Nothing. If Mikey throwing a skyscraper at the guy didn't do anything, Donnie didn't have much hope. Especially because he kept getting distracted by the sight of Leo's hand crawling out from where he was trapped and what Prime was intending on making him watch --

Donnie was smacked out of the sky and went tumbling. Agony shot up his leg and he cried out, rolling and thudding hard against rock at a sudden stop. Blood roared in his ears, then before he could so much as inhale, a blue sword cut through his battle shell, shattering the construct.

No moment to breathe, the blade reflecting in distant starlight as it rose a second time, and Donnie summoned another protective shell, only for it to meet the same immediate fate. Bursting in purple sparks, tore to pieces moments after forming.

Prime roared, and slashed, and slashed, and Donnie tried, he tried so hard not to have Leo watch him get hurt by his own sword. But his energy suddenly scraped the bottom of the barrel dry, there was nothing left. The milisecond where the sword raised Donnie didn't look at it, he looked at Leo's round eyes, trapped, pinned to him. And Donnie thought: look away.

Then agony lit up his spine. The tear of leathery skin, like ripping cardboard in half. But it didn't stop there, Donnie losing sight of his twin as he bit his face into the rock floor instead, gasping desperately for air as Prime slashed the blade against his soft shell over and over and over and over. Someone screamed, though it wasn't Donnie.

Until there was finally stillness. Donnie sobbed, just once, trembling. The drip drip drip of Donnie's blood rolling off the tip of Leo's sword.

"See now." Prime said, voice ringing out over the endless nothing. "Isn't that better?"

The sword was tossed aside. Donnie's world shifted, in a nauseating spin, as he was lifted and brought over to Leo, dropped unceremoniously in front of his twin. His back arched and he cried out from the simultaneous jostle of his bloody shell and spine, the sound coming out strangled and broken.

"D." Leo whispered, close enough to hear, but the hand crawling out from the rock couldn't quite reach him even as the fingers shook with the effort of straining towards him.

A trembling breath. Donnie licked his lips and said, "Hey L."

Then Prime stepped on him, breaking another cry from his lips. Multiple competing agonies fought for attention, and Donnie had to focus on getting air into his shocked lungs more than anything else.

"Stop, stop!" Leo struggled, wheezing. "Stop, don't hurt him, he doesn't deserve it. Come on, don't you want the guy who ruined your plan?"

"I'm a genius, I'm more of a threat." Donnie immediately cut over him, and managed to spit on Prime. "Plus I f*cked up your spaceship. You're welcome."

"Donnie, stop." Leo said, horrified.

"Your words mean nothing to me." Prime loomed over Donnie, kneeling over the foot he had pinned to crush him against the rock. In a really morbid way, it was like having pressure for the new wounds on his shell. Not that he was about to point that out. "Your pathetic heroism values, trying to decide who deserves what. You forget I have the power. You want to choose? Fine. I give you the choice."

Donnie did not have to be told that they were not going to like the choice. "Leo, don't--"

"I was not talking to you." Prime pressed him further down and Donnie had the rest of the air forcefully pushed out of his lungs. "Useless pest, come along just to die. I hope you're happy with your choice, as that is the only one you're making. Now, you."

Leo stared at Prime. There was no emotion on his face, trapped and immobilized, fingertips inches from Donnie's arm.

"You are going to choose to hurt your brother." Prime declared.

"No?" Leo asked, in an incredulous voice, setting his jaw.

"You will." Prime said, certain.

"I'm not going to." Leo said, firm, almost laughing. "Listen man, do whatever you want to me, but I'm not hurting my brother."

"This is not a negotiation. If you don't want to do it, I'll be happy to oblige once again."

Despite himself, the flash of fear and anticipation of pain raced through Donnie, and he tried hard not to let it show. He probably wasn't very successful. Something about the slash-slash-slash of a biting sharp blade ripping through his soft shell. He wasn't sure how much it would take to kill him -- it was a soft shell, but it was still a shell. It was thicker than skin, meant to have some level of protection even if it wasn't as strong as his brothers.

Leo breathed, a horrified, "No. Not happening, you'll hurt us either way. I'm not doing it."

Without ceremony, Prime ground his heel into the ground. The fresh cuts burst volcanic eruptions of pain, pushing a helpless cry from the back of Donnie's throat before he could halt it.

"Stop! Stop. Stop." Leo said, panicked.

Prime lifted his foot, letting Donnie suck in a free breath, bowing in pain. "Now, now, I'm sure you can find a way to hurt him. Not with that sword, though, we're not having any escape tricks."

Donnie forced himself to meet Leo's gaze beside him. Released from the pin, he reached out and grabbed Leo's hand. He had no idea what he wanted to communicate in the moment, because -- he didn't know what the right choice was. He didn't want Prime to hurt him again. He didn't think Leo was going to be able to live with himself if he did.

So he held Leo's hand, and tried to tell him with his gaze that he'd be okay with whatever Leo chose. Because that was the only option he had left.

"I don't -- I don't..." Leo trailed off, and he couldn't peel his eyes away from Donnie's face, pinned. His fingers were cold in Donnie's.

"Either you hurt him or I will." Prime offered, taunting like a song.

Leo breathed. He breathed. He squeezed his eyes shut. "Fine."

The rock was lifted. Leo stumbled towards Donnie, hands hovering around his shell.

"How's it look?" Donnie whispered. He was afraid to see. He knew that Kraang just pressed the fresh wounds into the ground, which was definitely not great for infection. It felt -- it kind of felt like nothing at this moment, actually. Like a big fuzzy wall of blankness on his back. TV static, an old Lou Jitsu VCR tape hit the end when everyone else had fallen asleep.

"Not great." Leo muttered back, hand reaching out but immediately drawing back, holding it to his chest instead.

"Pests." Prime's voice boomed over them, and they both flinched in time. "I can change my mind at any moment."

Leo locked eyes with Donnie, an instant of unspoken understanding.

"Alright, alright." Leo announced to Prime, wincing as he straightened up, and managed a false smile. "We're doing it, come on. Get up, D."

A small hand signal, below his waist. Donnie caught onto his plan, and rose to a very trembling right leg, favouring his left. He didn't speak, because he couldn't lie and Prime would catch onto them quickly.

Then Leo punched him in the face. Years and years and years of pretending to fight along with Lou Jitsu movies had it down to a science, just with enough actual strike to make the sound and the impact believable. Donnie stumbled back and had to catch himself a little on his left leg, making his cry of pain very real, and it sparked instant regret in Leo's eyes.

Leo hesitated on his next move in the play, and Donnie flashed annoyed eyes at him. Then followed the punch down, rolling to the side.

Towards the sword.

It was hard, because any jostling of Donnie's leg or shell invoked real pain. But he used that to his advantage, letting it colour his sharp yelps real, as they moved their party trick closer and closer to the blood stained sword on the ground.

"Stop." Prime drawled.

Leo glanced at Donnie, panic in his eyes. They weren't quite there yet, but they were close enough to make an attempt. Did they wait it out another moment, hoping they could convince Prime that wanted to keep doing this, or did they lunge towards it now?

Donnie didn't trust him. His returning gaze said now.

Leo moved, leaping directly over Donnie who was in the way. He staggered a little on the landing -- maybe it was the concussion, maybe getting thrown repeatedly into the rocks -- and it could be that milisecond foiled them, as Prime darted forward with his inhuman speed and caught Leo by the ankle.

Donnie's stomach sunk as Leo was dragged back on his face. Even though there was absolutely no hope Donnie tried anyway, twisting around to reach out with what felt like the universe on the line.

"Ridiculous creatures." Prime merely kicked the sword further away. "Do you think I'm stupid?"

"Well I sure as hell don't think you're pretty." Leo said, somehow, from where he was hanging upside down.

Prime scoffed and flicked Leo into the wall. The blue turtle created a new burst of cracks, curling up against the pain as he fell back down.

"Play by my rules or not at all." Prime kicked Donnie next, sending him rolling disorientated towards his brother, much further from the sword than when they started. Leo clambered off the rock and grabbed Donnie's shoulders, looking at him drawn and worried.

Donnie didn't think about how they were going to die, because he didn't want Leo to think he was scared. He also didn't want to say anything that would give Prime ammunition, so he did a familiar teasing motion, of pressing his thumb to the Raph-like chasm between his brow.

Something devastated shattered in Leo's expression at the motion, which wasn't what he wanted at all. But it was too late to rectify, as Prime was already back, looming over them. Twin sets of eyes turned up at him, wary and waiting for what was next.

"Would you like me to crave a portrait into your brother's shell, or would you like to try again?" Prime said, acidic.

"Try again." Leo said, quick.

"Then you play by my rules." Prime reminded him, crouching beside them, between them and the sword. "Step on his wounded leg."

Donnie told himself, with possibly a bit of foolish bravery, that it wouldn't hurt that bad. It certainly couldn't hurt more than the sword on his shell. He looked at Leo.

A shadow was over his twin's face, impossible to see through, to interpret.

"Nardo." Donnie whispered. "You can't hurt me."

It was a statement made with a thousand layers behind him, something that was a show for Prime and a promise for Leo. Donnie waited for Leo's haunted eyes to meet his and poured the words into his gaze. Please don't let him hurt me again. It will be okay coming from you. I've known you every second of our lives and even if it hurts I know your hands. Please don't give me away. I trust you with each bone in my body. If it hurts at least I'll know it's because you love me. You can't really hurt me.

Eternity hung for a moment. And Leo's return was pulled viscerally, in the red rimmed eyes hollow and cold. I can't trust you with him. The thought of hurting you with my own hands makes me want to die but letting him hurt you might be worse. You claim I can't really hurt you but I don't believe it. You trust me completely and it makes me sick. I can't do this.

"I won't wait forever." Prime announced. "Either you hurt him now, I will hurt him worse. It is your choice, pest."

"You can't hurt me." Donnie repeated, and it meant you have to.

"Okay, Tello." Leo muttered. "Okay."

Donnie leaned back, bracing his tongue between his teeth and stretching out his leg. It was already throbbing to the beat of his heart.

"Make it hurt." Prime egged, delicious glee in his voice, leaned close to watch.

Leo raised his leg -- and for a moment, it was a mirror of Prime's clawed foot pinning him down -- and the flinch was involuntary, followed by the shock-punch of Leo stepping on the injury he'd put so much work into healing.

Donnie bit hard on his tongue, arching away from the hot flashing bolt of pain, something dizzying. He choked on a gasp, feeling how the pressure punched the air from his diaphragm. How for a moment his hearing went dark with a high-pitched ring and the world disappeared and --

He forced his eyes to reopen, burning tears in the corner he refused to let fall, and saw his twin's face. And never before in his entire life had Leo let Donnie see his bottomless self-hatred so plainly.

Forgetting everything else going on, Donnie lurched to say, to reassure, "It didn't hurt, it didn't hurt, it's okay, it's okay Leon. I promise."

"Hm." Prime said, and Donnie's whole body lurched with terrible anticipation. "If it didn't hurt, then do it again, and make it hurt."

The expression on Leo's face told Donnie that he wouldn't survive doing it a second time.

"I'm sorry." Donnie said, horrified, shutting his eyes with the wave of how much he f*cked up. And the thought that if they did it again, he was going to have to let Prime hear him scream. And worst of all, let Leo hear it.

Maybe it wasn't worth it. Maybe he should've just let Prime take him and hurt him. It wasn't like this solution wasn't only a stop-gap, that they had no long-term plan, and they were only prolonging the inevitable. He wanted to take it back, but it was too late now, if he said to Leo that he couldn't do it again, then it would be admitting that he couldn't take it.

And he could. He just didn't think Leo would.

"One more time." Donnie whispered.

"I can't." Leo replied. He had the eyes of a man drowning.

"You will." Prime interjected, impatient. The hiss of his words, the relentless shining red on their play stage, the ominous twist and groan of his mech pieces. Claws waiting, disgusting pink face tracking their every move.

"One more time." Donnie said again. He would forgive him the moment it happened. But deep down he knew Leo would never forgive himself. It was an impossible situation, because if Kraang killed Donnie with his own sword -- well.

"I can't." Leo repeated.

"Yes, you can." Donnie promised. "Now. Do it now."

He wasn't even looking anywhere near Leo's feet this time, unable to peel his eyes from his unabashedly ashamed and destroyed face, and he missed the rise and fall of the piston into his leg. Unfortunately, this hurt about a thousand times more. And Donnie reminded himself not to choke it down, to allow the tortured scream to rip his throat bloody.

White-hot agony, breaking out a cold sweat over his skin, and the familiar slick of fresh blood. Donnie's voice broke before the scream finished, dissolving into ragged heaving breaths of air.

"Tsk, tsk, look at that." Prime fished Leo up, the small turtle practically a lifeless rag-doll in his grip. "You should think about what you've done."

Then he began to stride away. Donnie's heart was stammering over itself, from pain and the sight of his brother disappearing from view. He wrenched out, "Leo!"

"I'll spend some quality time with the useless one." Prime said, distant. "Show me how your strength will prevail now. Show me how you will win now."

"D!" Leo's voice returned, weak.

Donnie struggled up on his elbow, trying to see what was happening, and Prime stood on the edge of their floating land mass.

"f*ck." Donnie muttered, unsure how it would even help but staggering to try and get on his feet, only to collapse when his leg blazed an unbearable pain the moment he put any weight there, completely unable to support him with how fuzzy and weak. He tried, again, pleading, and strangled, "Leo!"

"Donnie--" The call and return, except Prime laughed and threw Leo, hurtling him full force away. Rocketing a blue streak through the endless gravity, inertia pulling him almost immediately to a speck out of sight.

Donnie was left with only the sound of his own heartbeat, overwhelming all else, staring at where his brother had been flung. No sword to portal back. No purple constructs to fly and retrieve him.

"Now." Prime spoke, the sound coming through a drone of horrified ringing and an ocean of water, the vibrations of his approach reverberating through the rock below him. "Let's see how much strength you have, shall we?"

Chapter 14

Chapter Text

A couple years ago, Donnie woke up in the middle of the night to a twin brother clutching his arm and crying.

Leo hadn't been there when he'd gone to sleep, having snuck in without waking him at some point. Donnie had no idea how long ago, but the amount of tears staining his hoodie said it had probably been a while.

"Why hello, my dearest brother." Donnie mumbled, turning in to wrap his arm around Leo's head. The tremble of sobs. Usually Leo wasn't this inconsolable. Or at least, he did a better job of pretending he wasn't. "Did I die in your dreams again?"

The heart-breaking wrench of a sob answered that question. Leo's grip on his arm was almost bruising, the hysterical wrack of tears painful to listen to, and Donnie hated that however inadvertently he had caused this.

Leo was too f*cked up to say anything else. Donnie fiddled with his track lights to intermix the room in light blue and purple, and queued up a lo-fi soundtrack, and got comfy to wait out the tears.

Leo's voice was still crackling when he asked, "How do you think you'll die?"

"It has not been conclusively proven that I can die." Donnie announced, grandiose.

"Come on, Tello." Leo begged. Too serious.

Donnie sighed. "I don't know."

"You haven't thought about it?" Leo asked, as if it was so normal to think about that.

Death as a concept was something so inconvenient. Donnie had too much to do. The thought of dying before he could accomplish everything he wanted churned his stomach with boiling stomach acid. He voiced, unsure, "What kind of answer are you looking for here, Nardo?"

Leo sniffled, wet and gross. "Just. I know that you will die. It's only... how would you want it to happen. I guess."

"Again, we don't have any evidence that I will die." Donnie said, but he was considering the question with gravity, knowing it was one of those things that was stupidly important to Leo. "But if I do, I doubt I'll have a choice in the matter."

"Humour me?" Leo asked, sore and painful.

"That's all I ever do." Donnie said, achingly fond in the only way he could be in the middle of the night with a hysterical twin worried about his inevitable death at the tender age of fourteen. "Okay, Nardo. Assuming I can die, and that is a big 'if', then I would like to know my family is safe before I go. I would like have them nearby. Does that answer your question?"

"Would you be scared?"

"No. Not if you were there." Donnie said, after a moment of contemplation.

What high hopes he'd had for his own future. Donnie could almost laugh at it now. Though he couldn't, because his world was reduced to two things. Air and fear.

How humble it was that Donnie thought he'd get to be with his family as he died, that he'd get to know they were safe, but most hilariously that he hoped he wouldn't be scared.

Donnie had tasted so many different flavours of scared. The anticipatory grief of losing his twin that inspired him to practically break the sound barrier to reach him. The crippling tendrils of loneliness like a boa constrictor when left alone in hell with only a pessimistic brain to conjure up worst case scenarios. The gasping helplessness at watching his twin break down at something that should've been easy.

No. This was completely different. This felt like nothing he'd ever experienced before.

Prime had Donnie pinned, an unrelenting knee to his chest, pushing on his still-sensitive ribs with a creak that threatened to collapse the barely healed bones into each other. He had his claws wrapped around Donnie's throat.

"It's just a little test." Prime said, liquid sadism, grinning at how Donnie sputtered the moment he released. "I'm curious just how much it would take to kill you. How long can you hold your breath, pest?"

"That's not a proper experiment." Donnie replied, because it was the only thing he could say beyond fruitless cries for him to stop. "Where's your hypothesis? Your control? It's not science unless you write it down, you kn--"

A stolen breath, the dizzying constriction of his windpipe, crushing between claws. Air. Air. Air. Donnie tried to inhale and there was a painful suction against nothing, against the collapse of flesh on flesh, and the black spots blossomed to eat up his vision in inky holes. Sound funnelled away, even as Prime began to laugh and laugh, the panic avalanched. All attempts at being cool or being strong or being anything other than terrified that he was going to die disappeared, as he tried to tear at the claws cutting off his air.

Donnie's feet kicked, fingers twitching, lungs seizing. The pain was excruciating, a stampede of panic that he was moments away from death, that he was alone and he was going to die right now, throat closed underneath these claws, as Prime toyed with him, played with his limits, and he would push too far and then Donnie would be dead.

The terror was pin-pricks over every inch of his body. A desperate squirming sensation across his flesh, the desire for air manifesting as an insatiable hunger, an internal plea of stop, please, please. The black grew, the oily spots expanding, ringing growing to a crescendo, and he struggled with everything he has left, not even consciously, just a physical reaction to the sensation of being strangled to death.

Release. Donnie inhaled, struggling as his throat felt crushed and barely allowed the air into his spasming lungs. Light-headed and flooded with a swim of static over his limbs. He hacked and coughed, tasting blood.

"Is this what you think winning is?" Donnie spoke, voice rasped. He was certain, down to the marrow of his bones, that he was going to die now. He shook with pain and a stringy dribble of blood fell off his mouth. f*ck this guy. "Look at how big you are, torturing a couple teenagers to death. Except when I'm dead, the only trophy you'll have is a corpse. You'll still be locked in here forever, bested by these weak and useless pests."

Prime's face twisted, but didn't lose its smugness. "And you will still be dead. Say what you like, but it will not change your fate."

"I made my choice." Donnie's voice didn't even crack on that. It was looking up at the sky on Staten Island and knowing exactly what he had to do. "I chose to come in here, you didn't."

"I'm the one in control here." Prime slipped just a little, pushing closer, letting his fury show. He'd touched a nerve.

"Congratulations on your ultimate dominion over two teenagers." Donnie grinned at him, the light-headedness making the whole conversation feel like it wasn't even happening at all.

"Stop. Talking." Prime wrapped his claws tight around Donnie's throat again.

Donnie shut his eyes and held his breath. He played the game, until his bodily sensation took over, and his mind screamed for air, and he struggled and kicked and felt everything fall away like ice off a roof. The frenzied terror kicking in, shoving logic and calm out the window. Pushing hard, until his hands felt numb and fumbled.

Then air. Incapable of turning to the side to cough, blood flooding his mouth and almost choking on it, which would be morbidly funny if he had the capacity for it.

"Your choice." Prime said, wonderingly. "Who would choose to die? That is the only outcome here. You are the obvious weak spot. I fail to see any logic in your decision, there was no reason for you to be here."

Donnie wouldn't tell him, since there was no way he'd care or understand. But the reason was, during a late night discussion with his twin at fourteen years old, after Donnie gave him his answer and Leo stopped crying long enough to actually catch his breath, Donnie asked, "Would you be scared?"

"I'm not scared of anything. Raph's always said, I'm Fearless." Leo replied, and he looked anywhere but Donnie, red-rimmed eyes shimmering. He was lying. Even more importantly, he was willing to show his tells enough to let Donnie know he was lying.

And when Leo was scared, he was right here, at Donnie's side -- crying into the sleeve of his hoodie. Or he was following Mikey around the house. Spotting Raph's weighs. Sitting at the foot of Splinter's armchair.

"How would you want it to happen?" Donnie asked, listening for the truth.

"Quick." Leo said. "I don't want time to think about what's happening." I don't want time to be scared.

The conversation was mirrored backwards. There was only one question left to ask. "How do you think you'll die?"

Leo shrugged. He didn't meet Donnie's eyes. "It doesn't matter. That wasn't what I was dreaming about, doofus."

He'd never gotten an answer, but he thought for a long time about what it might be. Staring at a portal in the distance, feet on Staten Island and the world vanishing before his eyes, considering the fact that he climbed into his bed in the first place, he was pretty sure the answer might be 'alone'.

Not on his watch. No twin of Hamato Donatello was going to die scared and alone. Not when he was still breathing.

Though perhaps he might have no say in the matter. Breathing was becoming a little bit of a hot commodity at the moment. Choking on his own blood, chest struggling with even the smallest breath, as his brain screamed for oxygen, as his fingers swum and the pain in his throat sung louder than anything else. It eclipsed the sun.

Donnie opened his mouth to answer Prime, and his voice was gone. The words he wanted to say vanished into the nothing, into the hanging darkness and pin-pricked distant stars. Rocks and a knee in his chest. The claws still waiting around his throat to tighten once more.

"Disappointing." Prime scoffed, when Donnie's lips moved but no sound emerged. "That you would be so easily broken."

Donnie raised a shaking hand, tapping a 'B' against his chin. He had no hope that Prime knew the ASL for 'bitch', but it made him feel better.

Prime's eyes narrowed. He lurched forward, the pain thundering up and down his nerves. And when his claws tightened, Donnie let his eyes shut again, not wanting to stare at the pink face as he died.

He had thought he didn't want to die alone, but in reality this was better, because at least Leo didn't have to watch. The spin of the universe compressed on his chest, as everything rung dull and grey, and that stupid survival instinct kicked in viciously yet again, making his limbs twitch to fight, the panic gasp against nothing.

Prime released him and the air trickled back into his system. The worst thing of all was that Donnie felt disappointed.

[]

Mikey had never put much thought into what his mind would look like.

Why would he? He lived in it, surrounded and bathed in it at all times. There was no reason to speculate what an outside observer would see if they came inside, because they never would.

Except here was Raph.

"You know, Raph's not surprised." Raph said, with a fond smile, heading swivelling all around.

Mikey had never mind melded before, but he took to it like a duck to water, as he did anything mystic. It came so naturally, because his mind was an open book to his brothers and they were always welcome in his space. This was the test run, this was Raph teaching him how to do it before they reached out across dimensions.

"Like it?" Mikey struck a pose, trying not to think of how it was one that Leo did all the time. But since they were in his mind, it echoed, like a blue shadow.

Raph's fond smile tinted sad, and he said, "Of course, Mikes. I never expected anything different."

Mikey's brain was loud, painted in bright brilliant colours, an endless ceiling of graffiti. Smattering of colours in contrasting smooth strokes and jarring lines. As if gallons of paint were dumped and splashed across his mind, even as some corners turned darker, they were lifted and carried by figures of family.

Mikey found one silhouette of Donnie, chin up in pride, hands extended to catch a little Mikey flinging himself at him full-force. Staring, he sat on the floor beside the painted illusion of his brother and ran his finger along the purple outline.

Raph came to sit as well. He said, "I think we'll have to reach out to Leo. I've done it with him before. You felt what it's like, you have to be giving as much as receiving for it to work."

Mikey nodded, not allowing the wobble of emotion to take him over. How much it hurt to connect with Raph right now, to share their pain. It was good, sharing pain was good. Even if it hurt. Especially if it hurt. But he was a little scared, because that meant they'd be there with Leo. And he was a little scared that there would be nothing reaching back.

The plan provided by his brother was this: they needed to coordinate with the twins. They had to reach out and determine if they were in a position to be rescued so they didn't release the Kraang, and...

And if they were still alive at all.

There was an unspeakable horror that Mikey felt when he considered stretching his hand out towards his brothers and discovering nothing reaching back. All his life he'd been strung between those two hands, helping him jump over puddles in the sewers, picking him up when he fell.

They had to still be alive. Anything other option filled him with wrong wrong wrong, a fully body revulsion. Raph insisted that they had to confirm they were alive before they risked both themselves and the universe, but Mikey had no question.

Not a single question. He hadn't slept all night for other reasons. It was fine. Mikey believed in brothers. More than anyone else. He never gave up on them. He wasn't scared they were dead and he'd reach out to find limp and cold fingers. He wasn't scared, because he was like Leo, and Leo was fearless.

He would bring them home. For his dad, who wanted his baby twins back. For his big brother, who looked like he was going tear himself to pieces any moment trying to cope with this. For his sister and for Casey and for Draxum -- Mikey was going to do it.

But he agreed with Raph, they would do it his way. Because he trusted Raph and he knew that as soon as they had the confirmation they needed, they would be pulling those twins out of hell and back into their arms.

On the graffiti wall of his mind, a new picture was painted, smooth strokes of spray paint. Orange and red, a portal, drawing out blue and purple.

"Yeah, Mikes. Exactly." Raph said, gravelly. "Come on, we've got the concept down. Let's see what we can do."

A few blinks and the graffiti disappeared. The dojo bloomed in front of them, where they'd sat knee to knee as they connected.

"How's it any different from how much we've been thinking about them already?" Mikey asked quietly, because if thinking about the twins mind-melded them then they'd have been connected a thousand times already.

Raph shrugged. "You're better at this mystic stuff than I am. When Leo and I did it, it was like... I don't know. Just how I described it. Reaching out and reaching back."

Mikey hoped that Raph was right. He didn't want to think about reaching out and feeling nothing just because they weren't reaching back. That maybe he'd think they were dead when they weren't. Because they weren't.

"It's intention, then." Mikey extrapolated, thinking of the lessons he'd received from Draxum, all the mystic mojo he'd cobbled together over the years. Ninpo came as easy to him as breathing, and it wasn't hard to imagine what they were going to do. It was the connection to his family, and there was no one Mikey had ever felt more connected to. His strength, his everything.

A lit sparkler. Waves on sand. Fingerprints in spray paint.

"Should we try?" Mikey asked, trying his best not to sound scared.

"Do you feel ready? You felt how much energy that took, and I'm sure trying to go through dimensions is going to take more." Raph said, nervous.

Mikey didn't think about how they had no proof this concept would even work, but if he knew anything about ninpo, it was that it would work if they believed it would work. So he refused to allow that doubt into his mind. "I'm ready."

Raph hesitated again, that same indecision, and said, "If it takes a lot of energy, we might not be able to pull them out right away. I just want you to be prepared for that."

There was a reaction, something snappy, but he let it wash over him. He would deal with that when it came. Cross that bridge. They needed to make a connection first. Mikey had to feel his brothers soon or he was going to scream.

"We'll see what happens." Mikey voiced, attempting to sound calm. "Come on. I'm ready. Let's go."

Raph's big hands took his. They hooked together, minds melded easily as breathing, then began to reach out. Into the ether, into the nothingness, towards the senseless void.

Mikey would've loved it if it was easy. If they reached out and found the twins reaching back. But in reality, they stretched their ninpo and encountered a brick wall.

So they pushed. Together, orange and red, they pushed. For a long time with no effect. Straining, putting all their effort in, and it wasn't that Mikey was reaching out and finding nothing, it was that he couldn't even push past the barrier to discover. A frustrated noise broke the back of his throat, and his hands throbbed, and --

"Boys."

Mikey didn't want to let go, even as he felt Raph step back from the wall. Blindly he growled and said, "Not now, Dad."

"I told you --" Splinter began, beyond the void, sounding weary.

"We're not opening a portal, Pops." Raph was quick to assure. Mikey felt him fall away, but Mikey didn't move from his position, metaphorical shoulder braced against the brick wall. Pouring his strength, his determination to see his brothers. Distant, beyond the nothing, he was aware that Raph was quickly explaining their plan, reassuring, even if he didn't mention the part where they were going to open a portal as soon as they had confirmation of life, whether Splinter wanted them to or not. It was implied anyway.

To his relief, Raph's presence rejoined him at the wall to resume their attempt to break it down. And to his surprise, a small figure made of warmth joined them.

"We're focusing on Leonardo." Splinter said, brow set in determination, bracing his foot and pushing. "Raphael is correct, his mind is receptive if he's melded before. But you must focus on Leonardo. Call upon all you know about him, reach for his mind. Do not stray in any other direction. A large attack hit many points ineffectually. You want direct, small and precise, to break through the barrier like a drill. Ready, my sons?"

Mikey inhaled and exhaled. He reached out and held Splinter's hand. And he thought about Leo.

Comic books and skateboards. Band aids and anti-septic. Red stripes and blue mask tails. The exact cadence of his voice on a funny joke. Shy and sweet smile.

A grinning figure walking with arms behind his head. Homemade magic tricks. The smell of Altoids. The dramatic drape over any surface. How he could scrunch himself into a tiny ball when scared. When he got bouncy and goofy. The way his real laugh could crack over an entire space. When he got quiet and sad. How bleak the whole lair got when he hadn't slept in days. Taking ten years in the shower singing Kesha. Convincing Mikey that Five Nights at Freddy's was going to get him. The sheer amount of care experienced when you were loved by him.

His brother, tugging Mikey under his arm keeping him close. His brother, gesturing for Mikey to go first with complete faith in his abilities. His brother, who he wanted to murder over Mario Kart.

Blue, like electric candy ropes. Blue, like the sparkling Hudson. Blue, like the fluttering tails of his mask.

Darkness.

What?

Mikey turned and turned, finding an expanse. Pin-pricked with distant stars.

"You shouldn't be here."

Mikey whipped around, but Leo wasn't there. Just a facsimile of his voice, something twisted and broken. He said, "Leo? Where are you?"

No reply. Mikey tugged, having forced a tiny crack in the brick wall, and pulled his brother and his dad through with him into this weird liminal space.

"What are you doing?" Leo's voice demanded, furious. "Get out of here. Leave."

"Leo?" Raph echoed, haunted. He turned huge eyes to Mikey, who looked helplessly back.

"You can't be here." There was a sensation of a push. Mikey stumbled from the force of it, but he would not be deterred, bracing forward. He could feel how much energy and ninpo the connection was taking from him, and he didn't dare ease up on that power for a second.

"Blue." Splinter said, searching.

A falter, a stumble, and Leo's echoing voice said, "Dad?"

Splinter caught the weakness, stepping closer to the starlit nothing. "Hello, my son. Will you come out and speak with us?"

More hesitation. Leo said, distant, "Am I dreaming?"

"Come find out." Splinter invited, hands out. Face pleading, crumpled.

The shadows rippled. Leo emerged, stepping out and shaking off stardust. But the sight of him stole all of the air from Mikey's lungs, stomach dropping to the floor. There was no time for relief that he was alive, because...

It was his brother. Maybe. Instead of his beloved red stripes, there was twin streaks of blood on either side of his face. Every blink filled the white sclera with more red. His hands were dripping with it as well, hovering out and shaking. There was seemingly no source for all the blood, even though he was covered in scratches. A pattern of three fingers on every inch of available skin.

"Leo." Raph whispered, voice unreadable.

The endless sky rumbled like thunder on the horizon. When Leo spoke, it came through all crackled like an old time radio announcer. "What are you doing here?"

"Looking for you." Mikey threw aside his horror at seeing Leo like this -- what it meant that this was how Leo saw himself -- and stepped forward to try and meet him halfway. "We're going to get you two out of there, okay?"

And perhaps the worst of all, Leo laughed. The echoing sound of it cold and frosted like ice. When he smiled, it was the most painful thing Mikey had ever seen. The shape of it was like porcelain.

Raph took a bracing breath and came to Mikey's side, hand on his shoulder, bracing against the storm with him. The looming clouds growing over the stars, blotting them out. Raph said, "We need to make a plan. We want to pull you out when it's safe."

"Safe?" Leo threw his head back and laughed even louder. Mikey's heart completely stopped beating for the entirety of the chilled laughter.

"Fine. Then I'm pulling you out now." Mikey snapped, once he caught back his breath, because it didn't matter if he ended the world, it mattered that he couldn't stand another singular moment of having to look at this shell of his brother and pretend it wasn't shattering him.

That cut the laughter in rapid and swift death, Leo's flashing dark underneath bloody stripes. "Don't you f*cking dare, Michelangelo."

"Why not?" Mikey demanded, hot and flushed, fingers already sparking with intent. He had a pretty good grip on Leo right now, even though what felt like wiring himself through telephone poles two countries apart.

"I don't have Donnie."

Complete quiet, as the ominous wind froze, and the thunder paused for the declaration.

"Oh, Leonardo." Splinter stepped up to join their line, clutching Mikey's hand hard.

"Is he--?" Raph began, and couldn't continue. Mikey didn’t want him to continue. But he was brave and he could take the truth, he could – he just –

“I don’t know.” Leo uttered the most damning words of all, and there was absolutely no emotion behind them. Just a dull and empty gaze. “He’s – I … he was still alive. But we’re… separated. So I don’t know.”

“Separated.” Splinter echoed, with audible dread.

The churn of clouds in sinister black and deep violet, enveloping the sky and swallowing them whole. The heavens opened and drenched them in ephemeral rain. A crack of lightning. Mikey held his big brother and his dad’s hands and felt how it leaked cold to his bones with the icy downpour. He did not believe for a moment that Donnie was dead, because it wasn't possible. It just wasn't.

The blood on Leo's face remained unmoved despite the shower, still flickering over the whites of his eyes with every blink. Leo’s crumbling reverb of a voice spoke barely loud enough to hear over the sudden rain, “I’m sorry.”

Mikey glared through the thick droplets, feeling them catch his eyelashes, and said, “If I pulled you out now, would it be safe?”

“Are you not listening?” Leo demanded.

“I heard you. But if you’re alone –”

“I’m not going anywhere without him.” Leo spat, venomous, and the raw fury on his face was so hard to look at when Mikey missed him so much.

“Then what’s the plan, Leo?” Raph interjected. Not unkind, but curt and expectant.

Leo sucked in a ragged breath. A crack in the porcelain. There was a sensation that Mikey couldn’t identify, but it felt… an emotion Mikey had never experienced before, secondhand like hearing the ocean through a sea shell.

“We can pull you out.” Mikey promised. “We just need to know when.”

It wasn’t until Leo’s eyes flickered up and met Mikey’s that he realized he hadn’t looked at him once during the conversation. And now that dull gaze was locked on him, and that unidentified emotion roared like a tsunami. Visceral and corroding and nasty, whatever it was, just shielded enough that the waves of it battered Mikey instead of blowing him away.

“It’s locked.” Leo said, voice coming through all shredded and crunched from that static radio.

“I can do it.” Mikey promised. The tight grip on his aching hands was helping the pain he could still feel, even now.

And since they were mind-melded, maybe Leo could feel it too, as his gaze drifted down to where Mikey was braced on either side by their family. At his cracked and destroyed hands.

“It’ll kill you.” Leo pointed out, almost conversationally. Nearly drowned out by the relentless rain and thunder.

Splinter looked away, squeezing Mikey’s hands.

“You don’t want him to do it.” Leo zeroed in on Splinter next, analyzing, and flickering to Raph, who flinched automatically before Leo could even speak. After a moment of contemplation, he didn’t. Instead, a flash of lightning crashed between them, building a chasm.

“Leo.” Raph said, and his voice was different even if it was persistent in his questioning. “What’s the plan? We know it’s a risk to try and pull you out. We know it’s a risk to let them out. How do we save you both?”

A slow blink of red. Leo looked away. He inhaled, and the cloud cover seemed to dip even lower, like Mikey could reach up and graze the churning darkness with his fingertips.

The porcelain smile turned a mockery of his craft, and Leo said, “What makes you think I have a plan?”

“Because Donnie’s still in there.” Mikey spoke up, loud as he could, brazen and determined. He knew he was right about this.

And he was. Something horrible and vulnerable crossed Leo’s infallible performance, and he hugged his scratched arms closer to himself. A burning fork of plasma keeping an impassable fissure between them and their brother.

“Do you have my sword?” Leo asked.

“Your sword?” Raph echoed, confused. “No. Don’t you?”

“I have one of them.” Leo replied. “But the other fell down to Earth.”

There was a weird feeling crawling over Mikey’s skin. A snake slithering. It took a moment to remember he was in Leo’s mind. He came to the sick-to-his-stomach realization, “You’re lying? What are you lying about?”

“Okay, fine, I had one of them.” Leo admitted, pulled teeth, still hugging his arms close, shoulders up, and looking very determinedly not in their direction. “I’ll get it back. And you find mine. We’ll try and use it like a backdoor key. Right? If we push on both sides.”

“That could work.” Splinter whispered, with something so damning like hope. “And it may ease the burden on you, Orange. Especially if you had help. All the help you can get.”

Splinter squeezed his hand again, and Mikey knew he’d help. A watery smile, even if any tears were invisible in the force of this rain.

“Find my sword.” Leo commanded them, the reverse-echo of his voice through the distant connection. “Once you do, send a pulse through. If it’s safe to pull us out, we’ll send one back. Sound good?”

“Can’t we just meld again?” Mikey begged, because even though this version of his brother felt like – well, it didn’t even feel like he was speaking with Leo at all – it was still better than the horrible nothing radio silence he’d endured for over a week.

The cracks in his mask were far more visible when Leo flashed his teeth at him. “This gimmick is taking rather a lot of strength, Miguel.”

“I can handle it.” Mikey said, almost offended that he wouldn’t give everything to talk to Leo.

“I know baby, but I can’t. I need my strength if I’m going to get the sword back.” Leo told him, and it was sour-sweet.

Mikey sunk back, letting his head hang and rain drip off.

“Are you guys doing okay?” Raph ventured.

That unidentifiable emotion cut through Mikey again, stronger than any bolt of lightning. Leo’s porcelain smile broke, and before they could see what was underneath he turned away again, stepping back, going towards the swallowing dark clouds. “Find the sword. I need to go.”

“My sweet baby blue.” Splinter called, and Leo stopped but did not face them. “I love you. We love you both very much."

“I’ll tell Donnie.” Leo replied, and the connection broke like a frayed wire snapping at thin copper thread. Fizzling and sinking Mikey back into a dry dojo, his hands burning and itching with the energy he’d expelled, and his brother and father on either side. His ears kept ringing, even as they fussed over him, cold cloths and ice.

He felt as if he was desperately pressing his ear to the conch shell, trying to carve out the individual sounds, trying to find purchase from the obvious chaos of his brother’s mind. The infuriating emotion that Mikey had never experienced before with no inkling of what it could be. When he voiced that, Splinter’s face cleared in understanding and he kissed Mikey’s forehead.

“I’m glad you’ve never felt it, my son.” A soft thumb wondering on his cheekbone. “But I could tell right away.”

“What was it?” Mikey was burning with the desire to know. They had plans, they needed to figure out where Leo’s sword landed and get ready to pull them out. Yet Mikey still desperately wanted to know.

“Do not worry about it, we have our mission.” Splinter assured him.

Mikey shuddered, unsatisfied. After he’d been forced to rest, with their new plan in the works, Raph came to join him. A goodnight hug, like they were little kids.

“Do you know what it was?” Mikey asked, muffled in the quiet. Dark. It felt like it should be raining.

Raph hesitated. Then he said, “Yes.”

“Will you tell me?”

Strong arms kept him close. “It won’t make you feel better.”

“Please?”

The soft and cradling hold. Mikey was nowhere near ready to sleep, feeling electricity sparking distractedly in the tips of his fingers, and washed repeatedly with what they’d just seen. And what he’d just felt, distant and poured down an unsteady connection.

“Self-hatred.” Raph admitted, at last.

And. Mikey definitely didn’t sleep after that.

Chapter 15

Chapter Text

Donnie stared up at the black expanse.

Thready, thin breaths dragged their way through his throat. He was focused on that, the continued pull pull pull of oxygen, and nothing else. He wasn't thinking about the explosive crater of pain in his leg, the hot agony tugging his shell in all directions, or his likely rebroken ribs. He only thought of the misery of scraping air through the pinhole, to stay alive, because he was waiting for Leo.

Alone, nothing but the low-level hum. Nothing but the rocks and stars. He couldn't die on Leo, no matter how much he wanted to, because if he died then so did Leo. So he couldn't die.

Even if he really, really wanted to.

A tear streaked down the side of his face, as he felt something he never wanted in this place: regret. He wished he hadn't come. And he hated that, because he would do anything for Leo, even this. But it hurt so much, and he didn't want to be here. He didn't want to die. And when Leo got back, because he was coming back, Donnie could never tell him about this moment of weakness. Because he would never forgive himself, if he knew.

Donnie coughed, turning onto his side to spit blood from his ravaged throat. It eased a small amount of the burden, and he breathed past the sticky copper clogging his airway. And his new position gave him a perfect view of a sword, discarded and left behind.

Prime was so confident that he'd crushed Donnie that he'd left him here with the sword.

Donnie stared. He was alone. He could get it — he could get it — but then what? Prime would be back. What could Donnie do? He could barely move.

So he crawled. Dragging hand over hand to claw at the rock and the symphony of pain from the pressure in his ribs, but it didn’t matter. Barely move was still move, and there wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do for his family. Inch by inch, mile by mile, vision reduced to the sing of blue discarded in the distance.

Then an earthquake of vibrations, and his sight line was cut off by the imposing figure of Prime returning. And any crushing misery at failing at his task had at least one consolation, and which was that Prime had been telling the truth when he said he was going to retrieve Leo. The small body in his claws, tossed onto the ground.

“Donnie.” Leo breathed, and scrambled over.

Donnie of course could not reply, but anxiously scanned his brother for new injuries. He looked unharmed and Donnie relaxed in relief.

Leo did not relax in the slightest. His eyes went wide and wet with sheer horror, a trembling hand raising towards Donnie’s throat and stopping before it made contact.

Donnie tried to say, 'I'm okay.' But no sound escaped his lips.

A flicker. Anguish and devastation. And a renewed life, as Leo surged up and roared in absolute fury. He threw himself at Prime, dodging the flick of his arm and ducking underneath to jab Prime directly in the eye. Hooked fingers clawing in and dragging down with the weight of his fall.

The sky echoed with an inhumane shriek. Leo didn’t hesitate, leaping off Prime entirely and sprinting towards the discarded sword.

Donnie watched, cheering him on in a weak, hysterical sort of way. Because the hope had lived in his throat and it was suffocated. Just bleak, dreary pessimism that this would not work, that Prime would always win.

Watching Leo attempt, Donnie thought about how he bet on losing dogs. Foolish genius. Oh so painfully mortal.

And the pessimism rang true like a hollow brass bell, the chime of judgement as Prime stamped Leo down with a clawed foot, hand stretched out towards their lifeline.

“So predictable.” Prime said, but hey at least one of his stupid eyes was shut and bleeding from Leo trying to pull it out. The pest won't win but it could be a damn nuisance.

Leo screamed from his pin. He struggled and fought. And Donnie thought: Good. Fight. I want to see you go down fighting, please.

And maybe if it wasn’t already so horrible, Donnie would’ve felt something at the sight of Prime fishing up the sword and holding it aloft. Examining his face in the reflection of the blade.

“How cute.” Prime said, and he grabbed the sword between both hands and snapped it in half, the chaotic ting of shattered ninpo and metal.

All at once, the fight left Leo, limp once again. And Donnie thought…

Something deep seated and primal, like a whisper from the mouth of the universe in his ear. That it was a door closing. It was a coffin shutting. It was goodnight uttered into the air as their dad turned off the light.

“Look at that. Like a toothpick.” Prime tossed the pieces aside. “Now. Enough of your tricks and games. Enough."

Hollow echoes in a low-pitch hum. Endless sky, all of the entropy of the universe pressing down earnestly. Anticipation was its own haunting presence.

“Nothing left. Just me… and you.” Prime loomed over Leo, pink grin stretching beyond limit.

What am I, chopped liver? Donnie thought, but of course did not say out loud. He was riveted to the side profile of Leo’s face. He didn’t know what he was waiting for. Something. Anything. The tense, strung wire. Was he waiting to die? Waiting to watch Leo die? He didn’t know which would be worse. It didn’t matter, actually. One was the other.

“Now what?” Leo asked, lip giving the smallest wobble. He was staring up at his captor, pupils pinpricks, streaked with dirt and blood and tension.

“I think I will kill the useless pest.” Prime announced, straightening up and spreading his hands. It was an almost casual offer, laced with that underlaid taunt.

“No.” Leo said, and it was thoughtless and immediate.

Donnie felt a calm and cold acceptance. Something leeched into his skin like the prevalent chill of the dimension, buried in the marrow of his bones. He knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that there was nothing he could do. The sword was broken. He was weak and tired and hurt.

“What would be the purpose of keeping him alive?” Prime asked, an obviously rhetorical question if Donnie ever heard one. “He’s useless. He’s nothing. He can’t help you. You can’t save him."

Leo breathed heavily. He said, “Don’t.”

“Where is that silver tongue now?” Prime laughed, looking like he was definitely enjoying himself. “Come on, I want to hear it. Let’s go, little pest. Lay it on me.”

“What do you want?” Leo asked, thin. “Whatever you want, just… don’t hurt him.”

“Beg.”

The word stung Donnie, the force and impact of it greater than any hit he’d incurred. The implications. He said, 'Leo, don’t.' But there was no sound from his mouth.

“Beg?” Leo echoed, the wide whites of his eyes turned up at Prime. He hadn’t looked away for a second. Even as Donnie desperately slammed his hand on the ground to try and gain his attention, Leo kept his gaze pinned on their enemy. Hundreds of hours in hell Leo had been looking at Donnie, but now he kept his gaze away. Even as Prime lifted his hold, releasing Leo and leaving him the choice.

“Beg for me to hurt you instead of him.” Prime said.

Leo immediately got to his knees. Donnie’s heart plummeted, disappearing into the void, stealing what little breath he had left. His twin brother, willingly putting himself in supplication, the sacrificial lamb laying his own throat on the altar stone.

“The floor is yours.” Prime’s eyes glinted with sick amusem*nt, surveying his prize with smug victory.

“Please.” Leo began, and his voice cracked. He shut his eyes, mouth trembling more, barely holding it together.

“Come on, pest. It would take nothing for me to kill him. I will do it right now, if I don’t hear you beg for me to hurt you instead. Tell me you deserve it. Tell me the truth.”

And Donnie witnessed how Leo snapped.

“Please.” Leo’s voice rung high and desperate. “Please hurt me. I – I want you to hurt me. I deserve – I deserve it. I’m the – I’m the pest. I’m the one who screwed up your plans. I’m the one who –”

There was an attempt to inject arrogance in his destroyed voice, but it came out all wrong, all shaky and scrambling. He ignored Donnie’s attempt to gain his attention again, the hand pounding the rock, eyes only for the triumphant smile on Prime’s face.

“He doesn’t deserve it. Please don’t hurt him. Don’t touch him – you can hurt me, you can tear me apart, you can do anything, just don’t – don’t hurt him anymore. Please. I’m begging you, please.” Leo babbled, nearly incoherent, lacing his fingers together in front of him to complete the perfect haunting picture.

“Hm.” Prime pretended to tap his lip in thought. “I’m not sold.”

Donnie almost couldn’t bear it, not another second of listening to this, it felt like the words were searing themselves into his mind like a brand – he would never forget, not the damning words, not the way he sounded pleading and broken. He would give anything not to be helpless, with no voice to scream, to deny the claims falling from Leo’s lips. Because of course he meant it. He meant every damn word and Donnie was useless to make this stop.

“Please, you can’t hurt him. Please. Please, hurt me. Hurt me, I deserve it. I'm the one who you should take your anger out on. I'm the one who ruined everything. I want you to tear me apart, I want you to make it hurt. I need you to hurt me.”

Donnie tried to crawl towards them, knowing it wouldn’t do anything. Dragging hand over hand, nothing more to do, but unable to lay still and listen. His insides were a writhing mass of horror. The world was ending. The world was over.

“One more time?” Prime leaned closer, pleased. Wound up tight, ready to pounce.

“Please hurt me. Please tear me apart. Please kill me. Please. Please. Please. Please–”

A whip of a strike, hard and fast and sending Leo toppling over himself. He sobbed in something as terrible as relief, immediately struggling to his feet again, looking up at Prime. Waiting for it.

Prime didn’t hesitate to deliver, a hit from the other side, battering Leo brutally into the rocks.

“Come on, pest, where are your manners? I am giving you exactly what you asked for.” Prime taunted, loud.

“Thank you.” Leo said, promptly. Fighting back to his feet, trembling arm swiping the blood off his chin. “Thank you for giving me what I deserve.”

Many times over the years, Donnie had felt like Leo had broken his heart. In small ways, like the slump of his shoulders when Splinter’s door was closed to him. An off-handed comment in the med bay about how putting band aids on Mikey’s knees was the only way he could contribute. Or in bigger ways, when Donnie would lean on the feather soft pillow to inspect his twin’s face in the late night blue-and-purple lit bedroom and hear nothing but lies in response to Donnie’s quiet worry over the bags under his eyes.

However none of that was anything in comparison to the sheer cliffside of heart-ache he experienced in this moment, as if it had been pulled still-beating from his chest and squeezed. The broken husk of his unstoppable twin brother, the weight of a star collapsing in on itself after centuries of holding together, all the moments he’d hidden or tucked away what he was feeling plain to see now. The agony and torment and excruciating pain of having to watch the other half of his soul beg to be torn apart. To plead with revolting conviction that he deserved it.

It was a good thing that Prime was going to kill them, because Donnie didn’t think he could survive hearing that.

Prime laughed, letting old anger tinge and grow. “I will give you what you ask for. The stupid little pest that ruined everything, I have broken you and I have won. Keep begging or I will turn this hand on your brother.”

“Please.” Leo said immediately, and Donnie felt the ashes of his heart grind into the dirt. “Please don’t stop hurting me.”

Prime obliged. He kicked him across the rocky landscape, tumbling hard. He snatched Leo up and slammed him into the ground. He crushed him with an unrelenting knee to the plastron, his favoured loom overtop, and demanded, “Let me hear it.”

Leo choked on air, but managed a small, “Thank you.”

Another slam. Bruised and bleeding. Prime picked him up and played with his toy, tossing him in the other direction then chasing down for another slam into the rocks.

Donnie did the only thing he could. He crawled. He kept his eyes on his brother and the torture he was experiencing, but he dragged himself hand over hand, moving barely by inches. He would not look away from Leo’s suffering, not leaving him alone in this.

The pleas fell from Leo’s lips, scattered and desperate, as they began to dissolve into aborted shouts and yelps of pain. Prime wailed on him, relentless, constant and visibly enjoying every moment.

The fist wheeled back again. And Leo's hiccuping cry gave a long string of high pitched, "No, no, no, no, nonononoNO!" Then a hacking fit at the following blow. A grab and pull, with a guttural agonized scream of pain. Donnie dragged another hand forward. Another. Lungs inhaling. His own pain completely ignored, completely irrelevant in the face of the dissolve into screams from his twin.

Another strike. Another. Leo was sobbing hysterically. Donnie dragged himself another inch. Impact and thunder. Heart-wrenching tears, wailing until --

Stopped. Donnie stopped too, curling up and watching because Leo had gone inside his shell, like a kid hiding from punishment. Prime roared in frustration, his toy disappearing, and -- and he --

Donnie covered his mouth with a shaking hand, as Prime stomped around with the compact shell of his twin, and began to bash him against the rocks like a toddler breaking his own toys.

Over. And over. And over. As if he was trying to crack Leo like a nut.

It did nothing. Prime gave another primal scream, annoyed and pissed off, and chucked the broken shell away. Leo's little hurt ball rolled and came to a stop just a few feet away from Donnie. Unmoving and fissured up the middle.

Donnie drew on something inside him. Something he could not describe, but it was all he had left. It was the worry from his dad when at six years old Splinter was begging him to please swallow the pills so he could feel better. It was a broken glass on the floor, the careful step of Raph carrying a smaller Donnie over the pieces. It was a dinner plate set in the microwave with all his safe foods carefully prepared by Mikey when he was having a hard time.

It was the middle of the night, the only two left in the world, and Leo's shy and sweet smile pressed into his elbow. Blue and purple. The dreams of an insomniac dissected in detail. And a helpless laugh, at Donnie's scathing sarcasm, eyes sparkling in the low light. A momentary victory in the endless battle of his twin's well-being.

And when Donnie opened his eyes again, there was a purple bubble surrounding them. Hexagonal shapes, moving in a flow like they were made of liquid nanotech. It said, you will not touch us again.

"That's cute." Prime said, and kicked the purple wall. It sparked and did not waver. Donnie felt the hollow recoil in his chest. It didn't matter. He pulled himself up, the cut strings of agony, but it didn't matter. He gathered Leo up and held him close. A bloody shell. They made a great pair.

An empty, broken laugh stuttered from Donnie's throat, not even vibrating his ravaged vocal cords. They always made a great pair, that was the whole point.

Prime kicked his bubble. Again. Again. Donnie curled around Leo, as if his own slashed soft shell was going to be any protection at all when the bubble shattered. He glanced up at Prime and his repeated attempts to break in, and allowed himself one simple cut glare of desperate hatred.

Then he inhaled. Exhaled. Focused on the irrevocable feeling of family of love of protection to keep the shield stable. Geometric shapes holding their place. It wasn't supposed to be a long-term solution. He needed to... they needed...

Leo was shaking in his shell. He made no move to come out. With his throat, Donnie couldn't even ask him to. The repeated shock of the bash-bash-bash on the outside of his bubble. Violet sparks flying.

Donnie had to do something. He had to be the hero, he had to save them. Both of them. But no self-sacrifice plays, he was doing it his way. Leo always saved them. It was time to return the favour.

Reaching underneath himself, Donnie set his brother down and pulled out the sword he'd crawled overtop. In two firm pieces, otherwise completely useless.

Prime stopped his attack to scoff. His voice came distorted through the neon electric mirage. "What good is that to you?"

If Donnie could talk, he'd ask if he'd ever heard of kintsugi. But he couldn't, and the genius would be lost on him anyway. Instead he placed the two ends of the broken sword together, and thought...

He thought: this will work. I can fix this. I can fix him. I can do anything. Polymers weaving together. Metal is easier to heal than skin.

His father explaining the golden pottery of kintsugi, that it was embracing the imperfections and flaws, to put value in breakage. His voice right there with him, in between the surge of power he shouldn't have even possessed after all he'd expended.

But there it was, and here it was -- a sword healed with purple glowing cracks. Donnie stared, turning it over in his hands, inspecting his face in the reflection of the blade. Whoever stared back, well, they weren't dead yet. So they still had work to do.

The sight of the returned sword had Prime redoubled his efforts to crack the bubble the same way he'd cracked Leo's shell. Donnie breathed. He could still breathe. He could still do this. He stood up, the world swaying, his left leg useless, but he still had his right. He raised the sword, keeping grip, staring down Prime.

"You useless pest." Prime shrieked, pounding and prying at the geometric edges. "There is nothing you can do to stop this."

Donnie breathed. Shaky through his nose, arms trembling with effort. He couldn't speak, but he mouthed the words to himself: I can do this. I'm a badass motherf*cker. I can save him. I know how this works. He can do it, I can do it. We're twins, we're mirrors, I can do it too.

A light. Small, but growing, like blowing on a flame. The markings lit up the repaired sword, flashing all the way to the tip.

And for a moment, Donnie met Prime's gaze through staticky purple, and let himself smirk. Giving himself that perfect arched brow that Leo called his supreme bitch face.

Then he summoned a portal. It was just how Leo said, he only had to think about where he wanted to go.

"NO!" Prime shouted, furious. Fists slamming against the construct with enough force to almost knock Donnie over.

But it was fine, because he had his escape. He scooped up Leo and tumbled through the portal, not managing more than a step, but a step was all he needed. They fell into the pile of scraps, and Donnie let the ninpo snap shut. Collapsing his bubble and his portal in one fell swoop.

Then complete silence.

Donnie’s heavy breathing filled the small, enclosed space. It was dark, and he didn’t dare light a single marking to see better. A soft bedding of discarded and burnt burlap scraps, the shudder of frost buffered by the interior of ship walls. Their original hide out. They had never been caught there, so Donnie had no reason to think Prime knew where he’d gone.

Despite that, the terror did not abate. The stammering racehorse of his heart, abusing the inside of his rib cage with its crushing terror.

Leo made no attempt to emerge from his shell, so utterly quiet that if it was not for the relentless trembling Donnie might’ve thought he was dead.

Cracked shell underneath his palms. Donnie cradled the compact version of his twin closer, curling completely around him. As if his body could protect him from anything lurking in the shadows seeking to hurt them.

Breathing. Bleeding. Stillness and quiet, after so much explosive violence, it was echoing in his mind. The adrenaline leaking out of him, leaving behind something so very cold. So cold.

There was no rattle of Prime shaking the side of the ship. Surely if he knew where they’d gone, he would’ve shown up by now. Donnie felt as if his muscles were frozen steel, unable to relax his guard or do more than the painful drag of breathing past his bloody throat. Holding his brother. The low hum far too pervasive. Donnie didn’t have a voice to break it, to plead with Leo to come out, he couldn’t have so much as hummed even if he wanted to.

Donnie had no idea what he should do, if there even was something he could do. His only capability in the moment seemed to be cradling his broken brother to his chest, wheezing through thin breaths and trying to get the sound of Leo’s agonized screams out of his head. Trying to pretend like he couldn’t still hear the exact tone of honest hatred as he begged to be hurt like he deserved.

Given even a moment to process that, tears stung hot and overwhelmed. Donnie couldn’t handle the depth of what happened, what it meant for how Leo viewed himself, and how the hell it would affect them going forward.

If there was a going forward.

Time passed in front of him in sticky, stringy residue — unable to capture or measure. The light headed spin to everything made it hard, harder than it already was, and Donnie came to his senses enough that he needed to do something otherwise they were both going to die. Slower than their previous immediate problem, but if Leo was only going to be shaking and silent in his shell, then it was up to Donnie.

The first step was to light his markings enough to see. This took a lot more bravery than he cared to admit, mind convinced that the room was filled with monsters who were waiting for their time to strike. It was not — the moment the walls bathed in purple it was the same empty and destroyed as it had been when they first arrived. Which felt like centuries ago at this point, the sickest sense of nostalgia. Soaked in something ill and surreal, a haunting liminal space.

Donnie inspected Leo’s shell in the soft violet hue, heart sinking impossibly further. The fissure split in the middle of his beloved patterns, spiderwebbing out to the edges at some points. Let alone what contusions and broken bones would be hiding with his twin drawn into his shell. He could even have another concussion, and Donnie would be none the wiser.

He didn’t know what to do. Their boiling pot was still in the cave, along with their last meal. There was no way Donnie could ever risk going back for it, but it also meant he had no way to clean or bandages Leo’s injuries or his own.

Not that he could handle his own. As the numb waves of shock abated, he could feel the slashed up leathery shell, with almost no way to twist around and treat it himself. Especially since his ribs were definitely broken now, making his already arduous task of breathing worse. The struggle of dragging air through his neck and the excruciating pain the moment he tried to vibrate his vocal cords didn’t bode well. And oh yeah, his leg. All the competing miseries seemed to also be at a loss, unsure how to communicate with Donnie the depths of their problem.

Sleep was a tempting option, if only because the tug of power he’d expelled could use to be replenished, a drawing exhaustion that crept in the more the adrenaline slipped away, along with the dizzy light-headedness. Sleeping also sounded like a terrible idea, because Donnie was solely responsible for the shaking brother in his arms, and he was the one who would have to portal them away if Prime somehow managed to find them. Though that was a bit of a circular problem – needed to rest for his ninpo, couldn’t rest as he needed to be ready to portal away, needed ninpo to portal – and it hurt Donnie’s head to try and come up with a solution.

Donnie could really use Leo’s input on some medical triaging at the moment. Or really just any input, because he was a little afraid that Prime had broken something in Leo that couldn’t be fixed – an obsessive loop of his voice begging to die – and he wanted to hear his twin say he was okay, even if it was a lie.

The dense weight of compressed turtle on his legs. The tremor running through both of them. Donnie peered into his head hole, trying to light enough to make out if his brother was alright. He whispered, the ache of it breezing past his vocal cords and stealing most of the volume, “Leo?”

Quiet. It was entirely possible he hadn’t heard, because it wasn’t very loud. Donnie tapped his fingers on the edge of his shell, careful to try and find any piece that wasn’t shattered like glass. Morse code, one of their many ways they’d collected to communicate over the years. Memories of tapping entire conversations on the wall separating their bedrooms when they were young.

Donnie’s sluggish brain took far too long to remember each individual letter. Painstakingly carving out the one thing he wanted to say, above all else.

I love you

Then he stopped, shuddering and waiting. Hoping that Leo would take it as a sign that it was safe to emerge, that it was just the two of them again. But there was no movement, beyond the infernal shivering.

Donnie breathed, tamping down on the swells of panic. He tried again, gentle fingers on the edge of his shell, trying to get through without the ability to speak. Methodical tapping, waiting between words, repeating the whole sequence twice. Just to really hammer it home.

We are safe

Okay. Maybe it was a lie. But it wasn’t as if his morse code read as easily as a lie as his voice. All he wanted was to convince him to emerge, then he could deal with the rest.

However still nothing. Donnie smoothed his hand over a small, undamaged area of Leo’s shell and thought hard. One last ditch attempt. He tapped slow and patient.

I need you

When that gave no response, Donnie knew that there was nothing that would get Leo out. He felt resigned and defeated, the cold seeping in from all sides.

Alright. Okay. Donnie could do this. He could… figure this out. Find a way to take care of them. They weren’t out for the count yet. They were both still breathing, and that was better odds than they had before. He was in the ship with the ice. Surely if they found one pot, he could find another.

The fear stayed strong against his teeth, sour and unwelcome. That sensation only ramped up when he heard Leo make a noise – but not one Donnie wanted to hear. It was a chirp, just barely audible, muffled slightly from his shell. A few more followed, more desperate than the last.

Pain ricocheted around Donnie’s chest, aching and strong like the shockwaves of an earthquake. It wasn’t his pain, but it hurt like it was. The chirps were pathetic and small and it snapped a little piece of Donnie’s brain to hear his help help help scared.

There was nothing Donnie could do, not even hum, only cradle the shell closer. Blood slippery between his fingers, unsure from who. And on the ground before them, a sword with healed purple cracks began to flicker.

Fluttering with a small light, like butterfly wings. Donnie stared, brow furrowed, glancing down at his twin wondering if he was doing that somehow.

It seemed impossible to consider. But the sword lighting up on his own seemed impossible as well. After a few moments, the light died, and the hush fell again.

Donnie looked away from the sword and held his twin closer.

Chapter 16

Chapter Text

The panic set in about ten steps away from Leo.

Donnie had to stop and hold onto the wall – let alone the pain from his laundry list of injuries, the yank of the slashes on his shell with every motion, the agony of walking on his mangled leg, the effort of dragging air through broken ribs and crushed throat – it was nothing in comparison to the strength needed to walk away from his twin.

But Donnie couldn’t bring him along. He couldn’t even really carry himself at the moment, so instead he’d tucked the shivering shell up in the softest nest of burlap he could manage and hid him from sight. Just in case.

They needed water. Donnie had to find a new pot and get ice. Donnie had to do this, because there was no other option. Making it rather unfortunate that trying to walk away from Leo was making the world go black on the edges from sheer panic.

He breathed. It hurt. He had no idea if he was making the right decision. He pushed on anyway, because the only way to go was forward. He had the sword with purple kintsugi strapped to his back, in the hopes that he’d be able to portal into the underbelly for ice once he found a pot.

The drag-drag of his left leg behind him, clutching the wall as he moved. He stopped to shudder through white-hot bullets of pain more than once, forcing his brain to remember the route to the kitchen area. It was muddled and floaty. He was terrified that the moment he took his eyes off Leo, that he would be gone. Either disappeared or dead. He wanted to turn back but the amount of effort it took to get this far already was insurmountable.

He took a break. He argued internally about the energy it took to walk versus the energy it would take to portal. Which was the worse evil. If he used all the ninpo and couldn’t make a portal into the underbelly. Then a tight and hot claustrophobic realization, what if he portalled into the underbelly then didn’t have enough energy to leave.

f*ck. The panic attack hit hard and fast, and Donnie was alone and scared and hurting and it just sucked so much and he didn’t want to do this anymore. He wanted to be home. He wanted Leo to be home. He wanted to be safe and warm and fed. He felt like a little kid throwing a tantrum for things too beyond their capability. Donnie had to sit down before he passed out, the blackness eating both sides of his vision to a pinhole.

He couldn’t stay there, he couldn’t stall, Leo was waiting for him. What if he emerged to find he was alone? Donnie knew exactly how devastating that was.

Then a thunderbolt of terror. What if Leo emerged alone and assumed the worst? Donnie had zero illusions that Leo was in the right state of mind, and if he thought Donnie was dead on top of it? It was a damn good thing Donnie had the sword, but that didn’t mean there weren’t other options available to a self-hating Leonardo.

Stop. Deep breath, or at least as deep as he could manage. He could practically feel the sensation of his twin frowning at him, poking him in the side and telling him to stop letting his genius brain run a mile away in his shoes. He could do this. One step at a time. One problem at a time. He had no idea which decision was the right one, but he couldn’t go backwards. Make a plan and stick to it.

Donnie got back on shaking feet and hugged the wall as he moved. Undeterred by pain or panic hand in hand, focused with gritted teeth on his goal. He should’ve had no strength left, after everything. But Leo was still alive, so his strength was there. It was still breathing.

He was trying really hard not to be angry at Leo for … the whole begging thing. Because it was an impossible situation and there was truly no right answer. It shouldn’t have even been the option in the first place. It would be ridiculous to be upset over something Leo essentially had no control over.

But at the same time, the snap moment of knees against the rock felt like it had been a long time coming. That his twin had been pushing down and down on these emotions and pretending it was all okay, not letting Donnie disarm this explosive keg before it burst, not letting him help. Instead he laid down his life on the altar, he metaphorically chopped his arm off to give Donnie ten more minutes, he tipped his king to the side on the chessboard and walked away.

Even if Leo wasn’t playing anymore, Donnie was and he would win. This time, he would win. It was dragging him off the bloody altar and taking him home. It was sticking his arm in the same portal and daring Leo to chop. It was staring his twin in the eye and promising with his whole heart: if you, then me.

Whatever else it meant, however far it would go.

He got as close as possible before hesitantly opening the portal to cross inside the otherwise inaccessible kitchen. Once inside, the room was the same as they last left it. Donnie scoured the storage containers for anything conductive metal he could use on his little construct induction stove, and surprised himself with the dead body he’d forgotten would be curled up in one of the freezers.

For a moment, Donnie stood there clutching the handle for support, swaying. Meaningless words painted on the walls that obviously meant everything to this someone. Multiple conflicting thoughts like trains whizzing over the same railway tracks kept him frozen in place.

An understanding that even if this corpse was edible, it was a person once. Donnie would really appreciate that if he became a corpse soon too, the next person wandering through would have the respect to not eat him. Not that Donnie had the stomach to even consider it.

It emerged into a morbid, practical plan that if they could not survive, that he would take this husked shell of his brother and crawl into their own freezer. If only because this place proved unaccessed by Prime, and they could rest in peace.

And a final thought, of a single alien who managed to escape the wrath of the Kraang even in death, was that this was perhaps the luckiest person in this place.

Then Donnie shut the door and kept searching.

He did find a pot – smaller, dented – but it had a metal alloy and it was all that mattered. One half of his mission complete, followed by the mental argument of the best method to get into the underbelly. He had no idea the logistics of the energy output versus distance, if it was reasonable to think that crossing space on foot would save his ninpo small amounts even if he had to portal to access in and out regardless. If he was just exhausting himself twice for no reason. Donnie dug shaking hands into his forehead, frustrated at how he couldn’t seem to think straight or rational. The swimming lightheadedness overtaking everything else, filling his knees with water and making it too weak to stand.

Make a plan. Stick to it. Donnie could barely keep his legs locked anymore, so he decided that even if he got trapped in the underbelly, then he would just rest there until he could move again.

‘Just rest’ as if being entombed was going to feel in any way restful, when he knew that Leo was upstairs alone and could wake any minute. Didn’t matter. Donnie summoned a portal and practically hand to crawl inside. The torn apart water tank, half-chipped away for ice. Donnie couldn’t stop trembling as he tried to push through the world-ending panic to get some damn ice. To bring it back for his twin. To keep them alive.

His vision sparkled alarmingly. He almost fell over, balance sinking, heart fluttering in the dizzy spin of everything. Donnie scrambled to hold what ice he’d manage and summoned one last portal, directly back when he started. Falling face first into scraps.

Heavy breathing. Silence and purple light.

Donnie continued to be impressed at the depths of strength he had no idea he could even possess, because he somehow rolled over despite exhaustion and pain to see if Leo was still where he left him. And he was, a crack blue shell nestled in a burlap nest, still shaking, still silent.

The emotion he felt wasn’t quite relief. It was something else, ugly and complicated, and Donnie immediately resettled his twin back on his lap to hug. He wanted to tell him that he was there, that it was safe, and all that came from his throat was a raspy breath.

Fine. Fine. He was working on it. He was fixing things, the best he could. He hadn't gotten trapped in the underbelly, so all the worry was for nothing. He had ice. He hopefully had more energy reserves somewhere inside him to boil a bit more water.

The thought of it almost made him want to cry, at the effort, but whatever. It was fine. He could do this. He could…

Donnie fell asleep without his consent. Curled around his twin, absolutely obliterated from everything, beyond exhausted into some new third level emotion. The portals wiped him out, and the worst case scenario of both of them vulnerable and asleep and there was absolutely nothing he could do to stop it.

Impossible to tell how much later, Donnie gasped awake. The sharp blast of air past his throat was unbearable, and he gave a pathetic whimper, arms tightening around the brother he was hugging.

His second thought upon regaining consciousness was sh*t sh*t sh*t. He lit his markings, glancing around anxiously for threats. An empty room greeted him, hollow and echoing with his short breathing.

And the third, heart-stopping thought was that Leo wasn’t shaking anymore.

Donnie was unable to think over the siren screaming repeatedly in his brain YOU’RE LOSING HIM YOU’RE LOSING HIM.

“Leo.” Donnie could’ve screamed, but his voice was still that ragged-destroyed, coming out small and thready. He didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t even tell if he was alive. His whisper tried again, “You’re scaring me.”

It shouldn’t have been loud enough, and yet, there was movement. Relief soaked him all over, as Leo hesitantly peaked out from the lip of his shell, then emerged. A tight hiss between his teeth in pain, bracketed by a sob.

His first look at his twin wasn’t promising – his eyes were glazed, expression oddly flat and skin almost black with bruises. Donnie sought out his wrist and took his pulse, if only because he’d been so momentarily afraid that he was dead.

“D?” Leo muttered, sounding… something shattered and broken.

“You’re okay.” Donnie whispered barely above speaking level, then amended as he knew better, “I’m okay.”

Leo’s wondering hand raised to touch Donnie’s cheek. Dazed. “What did he do to you?”

Donnie shut his eyes, momentarily overwhelmed, because what kind of question was that when Leo’s shell was practically shredding fragments, when he was a sore pile of bones with shrouded pain all over him. He didn’t bother giving an answer that neither of them would hear anyway.

“I’m sorry.” Leo said, and it had Donnie opening his eyes again, because he wanted to see the expression that would follow that tone of voice. It wasn’t a good one, a mutilated smile that maybe was supposed to be reassuring if it wasn’t so devastating. Anguish and thick, undisguised self-hatred. “F-f*ck, I’m so sorry.”

Donnie was helpless to argue, and tried to shut him up with a hug.

Leo was shaking again. He didn’t hug back, continuing to babble in his ear, delirious and lost. “I – I hurt you. I… I hurt you. You’re only here because of me and I – I’m going to be sick.”

Donnie tugged back in case he was serious, ready to deal with that, but Leo’s eyes were haunted and small, staring at absolutely nothing. He wasn’t even in this room. When Donnie shook his shoulders as gently as he could and snapped his fingers in front of his face, there was no reaction.

“He only hurt you because of me. Because of me. Me!” A burst hysterical laugh, beyond delirious now and moving into something else, laced in pain. “I’m poison. I’m – I’m the worst thing that’s ever happened to you. How can you – how can you stand to love me a moment longer? Your love of me will get you killed.”

Donnie grabbed both sides of Leo’s face and tried to get his gaze to fix on him, fierce and deeply upset by his words. Helpless, useless, because even when Leo finally let that glazed stare meet his, it only spurred more stumbled words.

“Please don’t love me. Donnie, please. Please stop loving me. Please. Don’t love me. I can’t. I can't.”

Something inside Donnie crumpled. He couldn’t do this. He had no idea how to fix it, if crushing his twin in a hug right now would make things better or worse. But the head wound was bleeding again, sluggishly, having lost his blue mask held bandage somewhere in all the mess. He could fix that, maybe. They had so many injuries the insurmountable task hung like a mountain over him, but he’d try. He’d try.

Donnie let go of his brother, grabbing a hand to squeeze, and turned away to stretch out and reach the items he’d dropped upon arrival – chipping the ice into pieces with the sword to fit inside the smaller pot, blood running cold at the running babble coming out of his brother’s mouth. The words got more and more incomprehensible, until he was staring again at the ceiling with glazed eyes.

Easier for Donnie to work. He managed to construct his little stove and it took twice the time to get it boiling. But he did, setting aside to cool. He was eager to drink, the tacky film of blood in his throat agony to swallow around. That first sip of water was practically the lap of luxury. How pathetic.

Donnie nudged Leo pointedly. There was no response. An attempt at his name with his breathy voice gave similar non-reaction. After a moment of thought, he endured the bolt of agony and said in a stern tone, “Blue.”

Not very loud, and it hurt like hell, like his trachea was being split down the middle. But Leo’s eyes snapped to him, confused and reorientating.

Donnie didn’t dare speak again, on the cusp of agony, and instead shoved the pot of water into his hands pointedly.

“No.” Leo denied, immediately, thoughtlessly. “No, no, no. I’m not. No.”

Donnie snapped until he had his attention, then signed a hand towards his mouth sharply, ‘Drink.’

Leo fought him, pushing back, and Donnie had to take the water to keep it from spilling. He scowled, and signed ‘drink’ again, a determined furrow of his brow trying to pin his brother in place.

It didn’t work. Leo shook his head so hard that he moaned and grabbed his temples with white knuckles, breathing hard.

Even though Leo wasn’t looking at him, it made Donnie feel better in this horrible situation to fiercely sign ‘idiot’. Then he set the water to the side for now, deciding to try something else. He wet a small scrap and reached out with a shaking hand to dab at the blood caked all over Leo’s face, including the sluggish slow bleed from his reopened head wound.

The gentle touch had Leo cut a glance up at him, something devastated and glassy eyed, but he didn’t move. Just swallowed and held still.

Donnie managed to clean a small section, and he didn’t want to dunk the scrap back in and contaminate their water, so he tossed it aside. And held out the pot again in offer. Almost predictably, Leo shook his head. This time, he was looking when Donnie signed ‘idiot’.

“You look upset.” Leo said, and his voice was distant and almost dreamy. It was alarming to hear. “It’s gonna be okay, Tello.”

Donnie blinked hard, because tears were fighting their way to the surface and he couldn’t let them. Not right now.

Leo’s babble continued, undeterred. “I talked to Raph and Mikey and Dad, they’re gonna pull you out. Mmkay? Just gotta… oh, the sword is broken. I told them… I told them to use the swords. And they… they wanted you to know that they loved you. You know that, right? That we all love you so much?”

Donnie had honestly no idea what to do with such obviously delirious ramblings, as if he’d f*cking talked to their family. Right, just rang them up on the phone. So he raised his hand and signed back, ‘I love you too’, because of course he did. It was the only thing he had left.

Without much hope, Donnie offered the pot again. Unable to verbally argue, and hoping maybe persistence would just pay off.

“No.” Leo’s lip wobbled, and the attempt at a smile was a war crime. “You drink, Tello. Please.”

Donnie didn’t know what to do. The strangling helplessness was worse than Prime’s hands around his throat. He was in incredible pain and couldn’t speak and he was tired and scared and he just – he just needed Leo to work with him here. Something about Leo’s wild look said all the edges of him were sharp and hurting inside, and this was the kid who leaned into every touch he’d ever been given in his life. So Donnie dug into his kryptonite, and opened his arms, asking Leo silently for a hug.

All the conflict and ravaging emotions were far too clear beyond the tatters of Leo’s broken mask, far more truth than he’d ever allow Donnie to see before. The self-hatred, internalized blame and loathing. Something coated in disgust, as if Leo was hesitating for Donnie’s sake. Even though it was Donnie himself asking, leaning closer, letting the plain upset take over his own expression, knowing how weak Leo’s resolve would be in the face of it. And he begged internally, please let his love for me be stronger than his hate for himself.

He didn’t get to find out the answer, because everything piled on at once, and Leo did that stupid thing he always did as a kid where he covered his mouth with his hands before puking, as if it would stop it from happening.

Donnie sighed huge, reaching for another untouched scrap to dampen and help Leo clean the vomit off his trembling hands, staring at them in wide-eyed horror. He stayed unmoving as Donnie got the sick off.

One last attempt at offering Leo water before Donnie gave up, instead guiding his brother to lay down on his legs. There was seemingly no safe place to touch, all his skin purple and blacks. Donnie’s own stomach churned at the sight.

He couldn’t lean against the wall, as his shell was a throbbing mass of sharp pain. He didn’t want to lean overtop Leo’s shell, the fissure down the middle painful to look at. He stayed sitting up, uncomfortable and aching and struggling to breathe from multiple sources.

“Don’t cry, Tello.” Leo murmured, shifting to the side with a visible wince but reaching up to touch Donnie’s face. He hadn’t even realized he’d been crying until the damp pulled away from his fingers. And then Leo made a bunch of sounds, that took a disorientating moment to realize was supposed to be the f*cking Nyan Cat song.

The delirious twin trying to cheer him up as they were both surely dying was maybe just a bit too much. The sob that cracked through his chest was like a bullet in how it ignited all his agonies, and the crying began in painful earnest.

There was a wounded sound in the back of Leo’s throat, and he tried to sit up to help and ended up crying out in his own hurt, the lock of his elbow collapsing when he leveraged up on it. Leo was not deterred in the slightest, face rippled in agony as he got up enough anyway to crouch beside Donnie and hold his face with incredibly gentle shaking hands, tears colliding with his palms, and tipped their foreheads together.

Donnie shut his eyes, blindly reaching up to clutch his arm in place. The crying did not abate. Stuffy and gross and utterly out of his control. There could not possibly be more emotions inside the thing called Donatello at this moment.

A hitch in his breath. Donnie choked it down, the spasms in his throat stinging hard. The flood of tears poured like a waterfall. Leo did a big, exaggerated breath. Inhale, exhale.

Donnie followed him, much smaller in respect for his narrow airway but just as purposeful. Inhale, exhale. One by one, breath after breath, until there weren’t dangerous sparks in his vision anymore. He could breathe, even if it felt like he couldn’t. He was still alive. They were both still alive, as of right now.

When he opened his eyes again, sight blurred and indistinct, Leo was looking back. And offered a weak smile.

Donnie felt a misplaced lightning bolt of anger, that he was looking now, that he had torn his eyes away when Donnie was slamming his hand on the ground trying to beg for his attention instead of Prime. He pulled away, and picked up the pot, and shoved it in Leo’s hands.

“Can I see your shell?” Leo asked instead of drinking it, hushed and rough. And still not entirely coherent, slurred and distant.

Donnie didn’t want to think about his shell, but shuffled back enough anyway to let him see. A low hiss between Leo’s teeth, not encouraging.

“Let me clean it.” Leo asked. No. Begged.

Donnie couldn’t handle that. But there was no other option. He shrugged, and kept his back to Leo, hugging his elbows in on each other. Hunching over and leaning forward the moment the wet scrap touched. White-hot pain.

Breathing was hard again. Donnie kept very still, waiting for the pain to stop. Someone was murmuring. It took way too long to realize that Prime wasn’t there, that it was Leo’s gentle methodical hands that were still shaking as they cleaned the slashes up and down his leathery shell. When Donnie tuned in enough through the fuzz to hear again, Leo was deliriously repeating, “I’m sorry.”

Resignation rolled over him like a truck. There was nothing more to do. Donnie reached back and caught his wrist, stopping him. Then straightened up, as they had nothing large enough to bandage the surface area needed.

He faced his twin to see the white-faced expression, like he might puke again, and a streak of blood down his temple. Donnie took the pot of water and dabbed his own scrap wet to clean it off. And while they’d lost Leo’s mask, Donnie still had his bandana, and used that as a bandage holder. It wasn’t ideal, as these scraps hadn’t been cleaned and he couldn’t get the energy to fetch more water to do so, but honestly they weren’t going to live long enough for it to matter anymore anyway.

“Do I look good in purple?” Leo asked, eyes unfocused. The small mercy that he’d held still while Donnie worked, sluggishly tracking his movements in distant curiosity.

Donnie signed, ‘Everyone looks good in purple.'

Leo smiled. Shy and sweet. Donnie hadn’t thought his heart could actually be broken in more pieces than it already was, but something about seeing that smile again right now was just the kicker. A resigned, devastated tear escaped when Donnie blinked, trailing down his cheeks.

“Please don’t cry.” Leo said, his expression crumpling.

Donnie swiped off his face with his wrist, and almost shook his head. But the smallest motion of his neck stalled that with the shock of pain. Instead he gestured for Leo to lay back down.

Leo did, but he pulled Donnie with him. The glassy eyes and pale face, mouth trembling with unvoiced pain. Donnie figured it didn’t matter anymore and laid down too, curling up like parentheses in the nest. He was so tired. It was so cold. The cold seemed worse now than ever, like his body lost the capacity to deal with it. Sinking into his skin.

The walls faded from his purple light when he relaxed his ninpo. The moment the pure darkness set in, Leo’s hand was reaching out and pinned fingertips to the inside of Donnie’s wrist. Otherwise they stayed completely still, their breathing out of sync as Donnie’s was extended and drawn by the amount of effort it took to bypass his trachea.

Quiet. Fading in and out. Donnie startled awake, unaware he’d even fallen asleep, at the sound of his own name.

Torn from Leo’s throat, desperate and scared. “Donnie!”

Reflexively, he tried to say, “I’m here,” but it ripped a hole in his throat as he did. Instead he gathered what he could reach and squeezed, heedless of injuries on either side, and Leo’s mad scramble to get him close.

But it did not help. Leo chanted in his ear, delirious and utterly terrified, “Donnie, Donnie, Donnie.”

It must’ve been a nightmare, or a hallucination, or something. Because nothing seemed to calm his brother. If only he could speak. If only he could do anything. If only he could actually save them. And it was possibly the worst kind of learned helplessness, that he accepted that this was his fate.

There was nothing left. There was nothing left, just the two of them and more injuries than they could ever recover from. A ticking time bomb until they were discovered again. Donnie should’ve dragged them both to the freezer and crawled inside.

And Donnie had no idea why he didn’t. Why he stayed there, holding his twin, as if there was some kind of saving grace at the end of all this. What delusions he had that they might both survive. But despite all his pessimism, despite all the statistics and evidence against the outcome, despite everything that screamed inside him to give up, to put them somewhere safe to die and rest in peace –

He didn’t. It was the last choice he could make. To hold on, just a minute longer. Just another minute. So he held onto his twin. Just a little longer.

The next time Donnie woke, he couldn’t stop shivering.

The sound of his own teeth chattering filled the echoing room in the worst kind of sensory hell that he couldn’t seem to stop even if he wanted to. Blind and exhausted, he flexed his hands to look for Leo and found that his twin was already holding onto him, there was just no sensation in the grip, having gone numb. And fingers pressed again at his pulse. When he dislodged that, Leo gasped awake, and said all disoriented, “D?”

Donnie made the mistake of trying to hum a response and dissolved into bloody tasting coughs instead.

“sh*t, sh*t.” Leo murmured, foggy. “You’re okay.”

Donnie was definitely not okay, but he didn’t bother arguing with him. And judging by the slur to his words, it would be as effective as arguing with a brick wall regardless.

He lit the soft purple markings and didn’t like what he could see. The white sheet face of his brother, almost grey. A blueish tinge starting to creep in the edges, and Leo was shivering too. But when Donnie tried to feel his skin, it was that same numb static like when a limb fell asleep. He couldn’t tell a temperature difference between the two of them. And that meant there was no possible way they could find any kind of thermal equilibrium.

It sunk like a stone in his stomach. The situation had truly never felt so desolate, so utterly beyond saving. What did they even have left? What was Donnie hoping for? It must’ve been nine, maybe ten days. And nothing left.

“What are you thinking?” Leo whispered, hushed but too-loud at the same time, as if he wasn’t in control enough to properly regulate his volume.

Donnie didn’t know how to answer. He couldn’t answer anyway, and it was a mercy. It was a momentary grace, saving him from admitting that he had no clue what to do.

He pushed through a stammering breath, the hysterical edge of panic too tight and too sharp. Leo’s fumbling hands pulled him closer and tucked Donnie underneath his chin.

“Don’t be scared.” Leo murmured to the top of his head. “I’m here.”

It was like a splinter of glass shattering, the jagged edges. He held onto Leo, and it felt like nothing. Too cold, past the point of chilled directly into the feeling of tight muscles and exhaustion from the force of his shaking.

Chapter 17

Chapter Text

The quiet and the shivering. That low-level hum felt about fifty times louder than it had ever been, overwhelming all his other senses. Unnerving and unsettling. Donnie wished Leo would talk to break it, but when he prodded his twin, there was no reply.

Donnie’s heart skipped a beat. He sat up a little, pulling away, wincing, but burning his marks brighter. Leo’s eyes were closed and he was so very still. Ice cold. Donnie jostled his shoulder, thick and heavy panic pressing down hard, but Leo didn’t respond.

The annoyance Donnie felt was all hysteria, and he resorted to grabbing a shoulder with sharp bruises – not that there was anywhere to grab that wasn’t bruised – and squeezing. A faint, barely visible flinch, turning away from the touch.

Donnie scraped some air past his vocal cords to speak but swiftly abandoned that plan, clapping directly beside Leo's ear instead. Loud and thunderous in the small space, but getting Leo to turn his head and blearily blink up at him. Nearly impossible to rouse.

Was it brumation or death? The first lead into the other regardless, for an injured turtle. Donnie gave Leo a fierce glare, agitated and frantic, but his twin didn’t meet the gaze. He shifted away from the touch and shut his eyes again.

Donnie wanted to scream. But he couldn’t. Surely this was not the death of Hamato Leonardo. Quiet and cold. Giving in, letting himself frost over and fall into darkness. Not emerging.

Despite his own exhaustion, Donnie didn’t let himself sleep, rousing Leo as best he could again and again. He was terrified that if they both went to sleep it would be over, and Donnie – he just couldn’t let it end like this. Leo’s feeble hands kept pushing Donnie back, face scrunching up, eyes barely fluttering open each time. But Donnie didn’t stop.

Then there was a crash, and Donnie stopped breathing entirely. Distant, rattling through the floor and ceiling. He cut his purple markings, letting everything fade to horrible black.

Echoing crunch-crunch-crunch of metal screeching. It felt like it came from all directions, impossible to orientate the sound when the world spun around and around Donnie in sheer stomach plummeting terror. Completely frozen decision making – if they should’ve gone to hide in the freezer to die, if Donnie should've instead made damn sure that Prime didn’t get his hands on either of them ever again no matter the cost, if he should stand up and fight even if it meant nothing.

The footsteps crossed directly overtop their hideout. And there was a frightened chirp from his twin, primal and repetitive.

Donnie reached out and covered Leo’s mouth with icy fingers, somehow keeping the motion calm. Muffling the sound. And the footsteps continued past, shuddering the ship above their head and continuing down the length.

The quiet scared sounds continued and Donnie realized Leo was pulling away too late to understand the consequences – that Leo drew back inside his shell, trembling.

If Donnie could’ve sworn out loud, he would’ve. So it probably good that he could not, as Prime hadn’t gone far. Instead he tugged the shell to hug once more, trying to keep the scared chirps down and quiet. Counting the footsteps as they trailed away. And faded.

Donnie couldn’t move. He stayed exactly like that, utterly frozen, for far too long. Waiting for Prime to come back and finish the job.

The scared noises stopped. But Leo did not emerge. And now Donnie had no capability to rouse him anymore. That sensation of complete helplessness put a smile on his face, dark and hilarious. Of course. Of course, how else was this going to go?

He couldn’t go to sleep. So he stayed there hugging the shell and wondering if Leo was dead already. If he’d be able to tell the difference. If he should stand up, give up now, and climb into the freezer.

Heh. Maybe he was more like Leo than he ever thought, because right now he wasn’t thinking about writing ‘I love you.’ The only thing coming to mind was, ‘I’m sorry.’

Light blossomed in the dark room. After ages staring into the swallowing void, it stung Donnie’s eyes. Squinting confused and immediately on guard. But with a moment of adjustment, he could see it was just the sword. The markings humming up the middle, almost whispering. Soft and quiet.

Donnie stared.

The first thought was actually about the purple kintsugi. It had faded, no longer glowing, just a hardened deep purple. And unlike his other constructs, it hadn’t disappeared when he slept.

The second thought was a stupid wondering, again, if Leo was lighting it up somehow. But at this point, Donnie was extremely confident that Leo wasn’t doing sh*t.

And the third thought was absolute disbelief.

The babble he’d dismissed from his delirious brother about talking to their family and the sword and – there was just no way. There was no way.

Soft light hummed, a glimmer glow like rising flutes. Then falling back into nothing. A summon. A call. Dad’s voice echoing in the sewers that dinner was ready, and it was time to go home.

Traitorous hope tore an open wound in his chest. If this wasn’t real, it was going to kill him. He shook Leo, desperate to wake him, that he had to get up and try again, try one more time to open the portal and get them home – but reality was much louder. Donnie knew Leo was in no state to do anything.

If they were going to try, there was only one person who could.

Everything paused, the suspension hanging in the air, and Donnie thought – he did not allow doubt to enter his mind. He seized on the hope, full force, because ninpo was powered by his belief that it would work. There was no margin for error.

And he had absolutely nothing to lose by trying with everything he had.

Donnie was shaking like a leaf as he inched towards the sword. He was thinking about how Leo mentioned a theory about pushing on the portal from either side with the swords. About how he’d somehow managed to communicate this with Raph and Mikey even though it should’ve been impossible, but impossible wasn’t a word Leo knew.

His hand closed on the hilt of the sword. Donnie had made like, four portals total in his entire life and now he was going to tear a hole in reality. One that Leo had failed at the first time.

No. That wasn’t true. Leo failed on his own. Donnie had his family on the other side, waiting for him. He had to believe that, because there was nothing else left. Nothing else mattered anyway. If he tried and failed, they were dead anyway. He could do this. f*ck, he would.

Donnie wrangled the broken shell into his lap. He couldn’t stand, not this time. Everything was numb and prickled with shocks of pain simmering. His heart was beating so rapidly his vision was swimming with fuzz in the painted blanket of black. He didn’t need to stand. He shifted the grip on the hilt, breathing heavy. Scared. No, he wasn't scared, because it was going to work. It was. Donnie believed in his family.

It was standing with Leo, his fingers curling over Donnie’s, and his voice saying, ‘I think about where I want to be.’

HOME.

Donnie wanted to go home. If he closed his eyes, he could feel it. As if it was close enough to touch, if he just reached out. He only had to reach out.

His skin crawled. He drew from that well inside him, soaking up like a sponge, pushing all the atoms in the battery, focusing on the consistency of spray paint between his fingertips, gentle hands tying his bandana behind his head for him, sore stomach from laughter.

The markings lit up the sword. An eager hum of energy, ready to create whatever Donnie wanted. He channelled that, directing the flow of a river, the vibrations running up his arms. He took a slow, cautious breath, not wanting to disrupt his throat. The walls splashed with the illumination of white and lilac.

I want to go home, Donnie thought. Let me go home. Let me take him home. Let me save him. Let this work. I want to go home.

He pushed against the locked cage doors, the sensation pulsing back against what power he had left. Everything he had left. Donnie reached his hand out between the bars.

And instantaneously, he was latched onto, and pulled.

A scrambling tug, one set of hands, two, three, the sword split the air and cut through the impossible distance separating them. The universe tore down the middle at the will of one family.

Donnie didn’t dare let go. He widened the gap, he gave every inch of power he had, pushing hard. The rattle of his sword in his hand. He was breathing hard, and it caught, and he coughed. A small falter in his effort, to break the cell walls encasing him, attempting to take a moment to gather air.

The three sets of hands tightened their grip desperately, and combined they tore the rest of the way through. And Donnie looked up, and there they were.

Without another moment of thought, he raised Leo from where the broken shell was resting on his legs, and offered him out.

Splinter took Leo, gentle and careful of the very obvious wounds. And before Donnie could so much as retract his hands, Mikey grabbed one side and Raph the other and the two of them pulled him back home in one solid, swift movement. He fell into what was, somehow, the dojo of the lair. The bounce of the floor that muffled the clatter of the sword that tumbled in with him.

“Close it, quick.” Raph ordered, his voice sounding about twenty times too loud after all that horrendous silence.

Mikey slammed his hands shut and the tear in reality closed.

Donnie couldn’t actually breathe. Another cough tore through him, on his knees and hunching over to try and shave a single thread of air into his lungs. He couldn’t tell if it was from expending too much energy, his damaged throat, or just sheer panic. Or possibly an exciting new type of hysteria, that he could perfectly conjure what the bounce of the dojo floor would feel like underneath his fingertips, how the warmth would sting his frozen skin, and the hurried vibrations of a big brother kneeling beside him.

“Oh God.” Raph sounded almost ill. “Hey Don, just breathe, okay?”

Brilliant idea. As the world began to sway stuck in a wasps nest of sensations to give anything better. He couldn’t stop coughing, and it just made everything that more surreal. There was no way this was actually happening.

“Med bay.” Splinter’s voice ordered from behind him. “Can you bring him, Red?”

“Yeah. But I don’t want to hurt him.” Raph stretched that agony like taffy. “Is there even anywhere safe to touch?”

If Donnie had been thinking straight, he would’ve been ecstatic to finally be wrapped in Raph’s arms. However he couldn’t catch his breath, and the moment the touch landed hesitantly on his arm he lashed out.

“Damn it!” Raph wheeled back, clutching his hand. Donnie was sparking, a protective layer of purple snapping at reaching fingertips.

“No touchy, point taken.” Mikey was still in front of him, ducking his head to try and meet Donnie’s eyes. “But you really gotta start breathing then, Donnie D.”

A stupid cutesy nickname that Mikey liked to pull out when he was being silly. There was no room left for being silly in hell, wasn’t there? The stark contrast of believing his own death was a forgone conclusion – to a bright dojo and an assault of information.

Way too much information. The sting of fluorescent lights. Two hovering brothers. Indoor heating. For some reason, the spring-back of the dojo floor against his hand was the weirdest part. It was just so specific for his mind to add that detail.

Two hovering brothers?

Donnie’s head snapped up, wheezing through the slice of agony in his throat, and Leo was nowhere to be seen. The avalanche of panic was immediate and crushing, scouring every inch but his brother wasn’t there. He said, the sound like a rock tumbler, “Leo?"

“Leo’s fine.” Raph assured, prompt, even with a shadow of uncertainty. “Dad has him. We’re going to follow them to the med bay, if you’ll let me take you.”

Donnie stared at him, uncomprehending, the echo of his own laboured breath in thready strings. As he watched, Raph’s eyes flickered down to his exposed throat and something terrible happened in his expression. He blindly reached out and grabbed Mikey by the shoulder, like he was falling over.

Mikey held his hand, but didn’t look away from Donnie for a second. He repeated, calm and cool, “You’re home, okay? And so is Leo, he’s with Dad. Do you want us to take you to him?”

Everything was spinning and it was making it so hard to think. Was this even real? How could he be here? Wasn’t hell the rest of his life?

Was it a trick?

Donnie’s blood went cold, and he appraised the image of his brothers with more calculating eyes — well, as calculating as he could be when it felt like he’d just repeatedly kicked the wasp nest in his mind and stood there with his arms out waiting for the consequences. He couldn’t — he couldn’t trust this. He needed to think more like Leo, he needed to notice the bloody fingerprints on the wall before he got them killed.

And above all, he needed Leo, right now.

Ignoring both of the illusions in front of him, Donnie struggled to his feet, pushing up hard on the springy floor to get his legs to lock underneath himself.

“Woah, woah, careful, you don’t need to do that. Raph’s got you—“ the approach was cut off by another whip of purple sparks, the moment Raph made contact.

Raph clutched his hand to his chest again. He pleaded, stammering in horror in the middle, “Don, you can’t walk on that — that leg.”

Donnie could, actually. He’d done it a few times. And he’d do it again, if it meant he could see Leo. He staggered upwards and stubbornly grit his teeth against the surge of pain. All his competing agonies, each screaming for his attention — hey think about the lightning bolt of pain up your leg, what about the rippling agony of trying to breathe through a crumpled straw, oh have you considered the yank of motion on a slashed shell or perhaps the grind of hunger and thirst and exhaustion? Hm?

His vision nearly went black and he swayed alarmingly to the side. The supportive touch on his elbow felt like an attack and he whip-striked it off him, heedless of how it might hurt the hand reaching out. No mercy for what was trying to kill him. Spinning delirious and defenceless against the silhouettes wearing his brothers faces, trying to trick him. Trying to lull him into letting his guard down. Right? He wished he could ask Leo what to do. He seriously needed to set eyes on his twin soon or he was going to start biting.

“You’re gonna hurt yourself.” Raph said, to his left. “We’ll bring you right to Leo, please.”

Mikey chimed in from his right, the calm fragmenting just a little. “We want to help, Donnie.”

Something was spinning like a frantic top in his brain. There wasn’t any room for this in there right now. He didn’t know if he could trust what was happening, it was just so disorientating and he couldn’t think straight when he couldn’t see Leo. So he limped on his damaged leg, hugging the wall and enduring the hover of the two following him, hissing at each other behind his back.

The med bay was exactly where it hypothetically should've been if this was real. Donnie ignored the evidence, eyes only for the shell placed on a cot in the middle of the room. Splinter was standing over him, crying, the tears dripping down his cheeks.

“Boys.” Splinter snapped up, confused at the sight before him. “What’s going on?”

“He’s not letting us near him.” Raph explained, something wounded in his tone. “Is Leo –”

“He’s alive.” Splinter answered promptly, sniffing loud and swiping at his cheeks with a more business-like tone. “His temperature is dangerously low, I think he may be brumating.”

Donnie ignored all those words. He climbed up onto the cot, gathering Leo into his arms then backing up until his shell hit the wall. It bulleted pain through his system but that was fine. This was fine. They were fine. He’d figured out what was going on, then they’d – they'd … something. Foggy and far away.

He hunched over, sheltering Leo in his arms, wheezing through a couple breaths. The coughing from earlier brought more blood to the back of his tongue, but it was such a familiar taste he hardly even noticed it. The caress of indoor heating was making him far too aware how cold his skin was. How much Leo’s compact shell felt like a heavy brick of ice.

“How are we going to give them medical help if we can’t even touch them?” Mikey asked, a little lost. “They need it really bad, look at them.”

“Mikey, you can call the others, we’ll need their help.” Splinter said. “For now, we can just get them to feel safe, and hopefully warm. Raph, could you fetch some blankets?”

“Course, Pops.” Raph said, rough, and disappeared. Mikey stepped aside with his phone.

Splinter returned to the side of the cot, Donnie’s metaphorical hackles going up, tugging Leo closer and staring at Splinter with a wary eye.

“You have done such a good job taking care of each other.” Splinter said, grave, and the tears were still shining on his face. “My beloved Purple, I am so proud of you. Do you think you could let us help you and your brother?”

Donnie rested his forehead against the top of Leo’s cracked shell. He pretended that he could feel Leo with him, that he could guess what the right move was, even when paranoia and fear were so loud. They sounded just like his family, but it made no sense. There was no logic, that he’d be about to die one second then what? Safe?

“What’s he saying?” Raph said, lugging in large blankets.

He hadn’t even realized he’d been speaking, but that did explain the fire balled up in his throat. A barely-there rasp, as he repeated the same words over and over again. The helplessness consuming.

“I’m not sure. Purple, don’t speak, your throat…” Splinter trailed off, looking gutted.

Raph got closer, looking like he was going to trap them both in what he was holding. So Donnie’s eyes flashed up, and he repeated, as loud as his destroyed voice could manage, “Please don’t hurt him. Please.”

Raph staggered back as if Donnie had hit him, despair fissuring through him. Splinter skirted around to Raph’s side, taking the blankets and setting them on the foot of the cot before guiding his biggest son to sit in a chair.

“Give them a minute, okay?” Splinter said, and it was ruined by the fact that he was crying again. A tight squeeze of Raph’s hand, gentle and sniffling, before he turned his attention to the twins. Back against the wall, Donnie losing the small rasp of his voice and instead pinning across a wary and exhausted stare.

“Blue is very cold, my son.” Splinter said, insanely gentle even with how he was crying again. “There is a blanket at your feet.”

It wasn’t an order, or even a suggestion. Almost like an objective statement, letting Donnie draw his own conclusions.

Leo did feel very cold. The sting of indoor heating wasn’t going to be enough. Donnie eyed the thick blanket, all hand stitched quilt of multiple soft layers. It was the one from the foot of Leo’s bed, with pretty patterns of stars and constellations.

It sure as hell wasn’t a pile of burlap scraps. It felt like a sin to touch the clean soft fabric with his filthy hands, but Leo was cold. He dragged the edge closer and with fumbling hands bundled up his brother, careful of his cracked shell and leaving room to breathe. It softened the weight on his lap, putting some heat into his own legs.

“Thank you for doing that, Purple.” Splinter said, quiet. “There is another blanket there, you are shivering quite a lot yourself.”

Was he? Donnie actually kind of couldn’t feel anything right now. Like yeah, pain, discomfort, but it didn’t feel like anything. It was in another room, another universe. All that mattered in this exact second was the heavy weight he was holding. He carefully rubbed the shell through the blankets, not to catch against the cracks, leaning over to peek in the head hole. Nothing visible. But there was a little shudder of breath. He was alive.

They were both alive. That was… wow. Okay. A lot to take in, because there was a blanket. Donnie could feel the hand-stitches underneath his palms as he tried to rub some warmth on his twin. And there definitely wasn’t a blanket in hell. That was … weird. A jump on the record player.

“They’re coming.” Mikey said, walking in the room shoving his phone in the pocket of his sweater and immediately going to Raph’s side, tucking himself under the offered arm. He bonked heads with their bigger brother and said, “You okay?”

Raph bonked back, and didn’t reply, clutching him close. He kept his eyes on Donnie, who was watching him with his peripherals.

“It's still the same problem, how are we going to treat them if we can’t touch them?” Mikey voiced next, seeking out Splinter.

“Just let them have a bit to settle.” Splinter said, sniffing and wiping at his face again, the tears still flowing. He settled beside Raph’s other side, sinking into the touch when Raph automatically hugged him too.

Something sharp and snapping when Donnie looked at them. Miserable jealously and want. A crushing fear and paranoia beating that down the moment it rose, because that wasn’t what was really happening. Right? He really wanted to ask Leo. He leaned over the head hole again and whispered, “Leo?” in his shattered voice.

No reply. Donnie frowned and fussed the blankets tighter around his broken twin. Three sets of eyes watched his movements from the other side of the room, worried murmuring just on the edge of his hearing.

Mikey’s phone chimed. He pulled it out of his pocket, and said, “April’s here, I’m just gonna –”

“Yes.” Splinter agreed, and Mikey bolted out from under Raph’s arm. Chatter in the hallway a minute later, and April stopped in the doorway, stopping herself mid-sentence, “I’m not going to –”

Silence. Her face did something weird. Then she gave the cot a wide berth and joined the other side of the room with Raph and Splinter. “Hey. You got them.”

“We got them.” Raph replied, and it didn’t sound like victory.

“I’m gonna talk to him, okay? I already told Mikey I won’t touch, I promise.” April said, coaxing. Her hair was thrown up haphazardly, like she’d just gotten up. Little strands were hanging in her face, which was drawn and very tired.

Raph gave a fragile nod. April squeezed his arm and gently dragged a chair close, but not within arms reach.

“Hey Donnie.” April said, all casual, like they were just meeting up for lunch. “It’s good to see you. How are you feeling?”

A cut and wary stare from where Donnie was sheltering Leo’s bundled up shell in his arms, the room filled with the wheeze of his breathing. Everything was swaying alarmingly, like he was going to pass out. But he was stronger than that and had a brother to protect. The ringing bells of overwhelming pain beginning to break through the shade of numb shock.

“I bet you’re pretty sore.” April said, plainly sympathetic. No nonsense. “I can hear your teeth chattering from here too. And you’re swaying quite a lot. All empirical evidence that says maybe it’s time to rest.”

No no, not rest. Donnie shook his head, wincing at the stroke of pain it caused in his throat.

“No?” April wondered, leaning forward elbows against her knees, glasses catching the light. Maybe that was the shine on her eyes, because surely April wasn’t about to cry. She was much tougher than that. “You’ve been on a long trip, bubs. But you’re home now. That means you’re safe.”

More splintering up the middle of his resolve. He wasn’t sure even his imagination could manufacture the image of April blinking the tears out of her eyes. That just seemed beyond his capabilities. And the beginning of an itch all over his chilled skin, as it regained feeling.

His brow furrowed at he stared at her, then flickered to the three behind. Perfect figures of his family, all of them staring back with the worst possible expressions on their face. Dad crying, Raph with his set jaw, and Mikey chewing on his thumb. Waiting for something.

For a moment, a flicker of something else, the desire to fix whatever was wrong and making them look like that. Donnie glanced back at his sister, who was studying him intently. Something didn’t feel right. Though he was that dangerously light-headed again, so it was contributing to the sensation.

But it didn’t feel… it didn’t feel like a trick? Because that made no sense, that wasn’t how Prime fought. He didn’t conjure up fake realities, he had more than enough horror in the real one. This false sensation, like there was someone else here. Like it wasn’t really Donnie who was here. That didn’t track. He opened a portal, right? It was Leo’s idea. Connect the swords on either side. But how the hell did they know to open it?

“Come on, I can practically hear the gears turning.” April encouraged. “You’ve got it, right? You’re home.”

His hands shook as he raised them, two curved palms rolling downwards. ‘How?’

“How what?” April repeated. “I don’t know what you did on your side, if Leo’s down for the count, but we used the sword on our end as soon as you signalled back.”

Signalled? Wait. That meant the first time it flashed, right after they escaped… was that a signal too? Had Donnie ignored their call home? And Leo hadn’t known to say anything, judging by his delirious rambling – his brother assumed that the sword was still broken because he hadn’t been present when Donnie fixed it.

That… that was really sh*tty. In a way that Donnie could not process right now, not on top of everything else. A hand waved in the edge of his vision and Donnie jumped, backing up hard into the wall with his damaged shell. Which immediately caused a strangled yelp to escape his throat at the wave of pain it created.

“Hey, I’m sorry, you’re okay.” April promised, coming from beyond a waterfall of noise.

Donnie shuddered from head to toe, pushing through the crash of miserable sensation. He hugged around the blanketed shell he was holding, burying his face in it as the room got woozy and distant.

“That looked really painful.” April said. “We’ve got Casey and Draxum coming over, they’ll be here any minute. Do you think you could let them take a look?”

Donnie was beginning to think that he might actually be home right now. That he was actually in the med bay, with his sister talking him down. That was… that was so ridiculously unbelievable, but it seemed like the only thing that made sense. And if he was home…

… then maybe they weren’t actually going to die?

He took a moment to grapple with the sheer cliff side reality of that. Breathing through the thin whistle of his bruised throat. Pinches of pain up and down his sides – by his broken ribs, by his slashed shell – because he was rocking back and forth a little. That wasn’t helping the dizziness but it was maybe giving him a slightly better understanding of the feel of warm air and mattress and blankets. The med bay. He was actually home.

“Hey?” April said, leaning in again, more careful this time. “What do you think?”

Ah. If he was home, then maybe it was okay that the room was beginning to ring at a particular crescendo. That the edges of his vision were being slowly eaten in prickling black. He blindly gave April a hand raised in ‘Okay.’

“Yeah?” April prompted.

“April, careful–” Mikey began.

“He won’t hurt me.” April said, sure, and then a soft hand touched his arm. “Right bubs?”

Oh. He was home. All the fight fell from his limbs. And he allowed himself to give up his crushing grip on reality, sinking into the fade, submitting to the tide of unconsciousness.

Chapter 18

Chapter Text

Raph always had to play the ‘where did the twins go’ game growing up. It seemed like every time he took his eyes off them, they had vanished to make potions with shampoo in the bathroom, or stolen all Raph’s stuffed animals as an audience for their karaoke show, or snuck out to the surface for ‘emergency’ slushies.

Of course, in the past, it would lead to two sets of eyes turning to him and offering a handmade potion, the best seat in the house for their show, or an apology in the form of extra slushies for the brothers they left behind. It had never been anything like this.

Not that the circ*mstances were comparable in the slightest, but Raph had… it was all jumbled up, and he’d thought non-stop about them coming home since he’d lost them. And this homecoming was maybe a bit more than he could handle.

Let alone how they looked – the visible representation of untold horrors written all over them in bruises and cracks and stick-thin wrists – but how they behaved. A Leonardo confined to a broken shell. A Donatello who wore his ninpo like an electric fence against even his own family.

Casey arrived about two minutes after Donnie finally passed out and immediately took charge of the situation, which Raph was pathetically grateful for as he felt quite helpless in the face of so many injuries, let alone what Leo was hiding inside his shell. The very first thing Casey did after washing his hands was dig through the medicine stores and give Donnie both a sedative and a painkiller. Luckily, the purple shocks did not occur again – April had gotten through to him.

Raph could still feel the sharp burning sting of it in his fingertips – aggravating the cracks in his skin from the overuse of his ninpo, nothing compared to Mikey’s fissures – and nothing compared to whatever hell the twins had been through. The pain itself didn’t matter, it the constant reminder that things were not normal. Things were really f*cking awful, actually, if Donnie reached the point where he would lash out at first touch.

Draxum showed up about four minutes after Casey, stopping in the doorway and surveying the scene with a very long look. After a moment, Splinter pulled away from Raph and joined the goat at the door.

“You’re crying.” Draxum said, mystified in an awkward but modestly concerned way. “Is Leonardo…?”

It looked pretty bad – the cracked shell cradled in Donnie’s lap, currently being inspected by Casey peeling back the blanket. Raph had thought the exact same thing when he walked in the room earlier, after all.

“He’s alive.” Splinter sniffed inelegantly and swiped at his face again. “Ignore the tears, they’re just a thing that’s happening and I cannot make them stop.”

“Alright.” Draxum said, stiff but rolling up his sleeves. “Where can I help?”

“How steady is your hand?” Casey called over his shoulder.

Draxum joined the apocalypse-built medic as they turned over Donnie to inspect the soft shell that Raph had been trying really hard not to look at.

“Those are –” Draxum began, surprised.

“Shh.” Casey said.

“They’re what?” Mikey asked, voice high.

Raph wondered too, but couldn’t bring himself to speak beyond the lump in his throat. Donnie was becoming more and more boneless as the painkillers kicked in, some of the enormous tension smoothing from his brow and the death grip on Leo’s shell relaxing.

“Can we move Master Leonardo?” Casey asked, business-like and obviously brushing past what Draxum saw on purpose. “We can’t help him until he’s out of his shell, so his priority right now is getting warmed up.”

“Would a heated blanket help?” April asked, already standing.

“If that is a thing that exists, yes.” Casey replied, and it was a little wry.

April clicked her tongue and gave finger guns, already skirting her way out of the room.

“Raphael.” Splinter said, clearing the spare cot and pulling it closer. “Come here.”

Raph obeyed immediately, unsure what his dad needed but willing to do literally anything at this moment if it would be more helpful than watching his world collapse. He climbed up as instructed, and moments later he was handed a blanketed bundle.

“Careful of the cracks.” Casey said, as if Raph even needed to be told. He nodded anyway, assuming the similar position that Donnie had earlier, bracing his legs under and wrapping his big arms around Leo.

Somewhere inside was his little brother. Just the slightest bit too light and still nearly frigid to the touch. April arrived with the heated blanket, arranging and wrapping it in addition to the constellation dotted quilt. The warmth seeped into Raph’s skin, stark and real.

The middle of the room was taken up with Casey and Draxum and Splinter, the three of them muttering over Donnie. After a moment, Mikey joined Raph on the spare cot, pale and anxiously flitting his eyes over the developing scene.

Words being passed back and forth between the three of them made Raph want to cover Mikey’s ears, in some kind of ridiculous desire to protect his baby brother from the horrible reality unfolding before them. Starvation. Neck trauma, strangulation. Puncture wounds, possible infection. The wounds on his shell –

Raph’s eyes narrowed at the pattern of slashes, and he saw what they weren't saying. That was from a sword. Judging by the sharper inhale of April beside him, she did too. Mikey was unaware, chewing on his thumb beside them, and no one made any move to enlighten him.

But the implications drove Raph insane. It didn’t make any sense. He couldn’t – there were too many questions and no answers. Just the shattered feeling of shell underneath his hand, destroying the pretty patterns Leo always took so much pride in.

The heated blanket was making him just the wrong side of too-hot, but that was good. That created the first movement Raph felt from inside the shell – a fine tremor. Leo was beginning to shiver.

It was hard to cope with the sight of Casey shining a light down Donnie’s throat, the tell-tale bruises around his neck almost making him sick to his stomach. He just couldn’t cope with his brother being throttled with that sheer amount of intent to harm. What Donnie would’ve been thinking or feeling in that moment. Or that anyone could take the sharp whip intelligence, gaudy purple aesthetic, complete loyalty that contained his little brother and want to – want to –

He genuinely was going to be sick. It was too much to handle and it wasn’t even the beginning of what picture was being painted.

“Does anyone know if Master Leonardo keeps oxygen nearby?” Casey directed his first question towards the audience on the spare cot, a deadly serious young face.

April was quick to get up again, on her feet. “If he doesn’t, I can get you some. Is there anything else you’re going to need?”

“I’ll let you know.” Casey sounded a little overwhelmed. He turned back towards Donnie, carefully inspecting his throat and pressing his fingers gently against the bruises. He talked quietly to Splinter and Draxum about the risks that could come up even hours or days after strangulation – increased vascular pressure, arterial injury, delayed oedema, stroke, irreversible encephalopathy – all words that Raph didn’t know the exact meaning of, and didn’t like what he could guess using context. Even just the grave expression on Casey told him far more than he wanted to know.

Leo must’ve kept oxygen somewhere in the lair, as April showed up with a tank not long as she went searching. Casey accepted it gratefully, untangling a coil of tubing and getting Draxum to hold his head still as he performed nasotracheal intubation – which was threading a tube down his little brother’s nose so whatever air he could get through his damaged throat would have a higher supply of oxygen.

Raph never wanted to have to worry about his baby brother’s oxygen. He never wanted this for them.

Casey explained, using a rather horrifying example of a neck injury he’d helped treat in the apocalypse, that vocal rest was going to be pretty important if he’d fractured his larynx. Then had a short side bar with Splinter about whether or not to use a neck brace, ending up borrowing April’s phone to look it up and not getting a better answer.

“Being able to search things on the internet is such a useful concept.” Casey said, tongue out, tapping away at the little keyboard, using his index fingers to hunt and peck each individual letter. “Except that this has like, twenty different conflicting ideas here. Immobilization causes more issues, if you don’t immobilize they’ll hurt themselves more… most of these are telling me to call 911. Come on dude, in this situation I am 911.”

Oxygen running smoothly, Casey worked on getting an IV inserted and starting Donnie on broad spectrum anti-biotics and anti-inflammatories. As he did that, he instructed Draxum and Splinter to wash their hands and inspect the wound on his left leg.

Splinter didn't make it that far, gripping the cot and turning away. He breathed heavily through his nose. Raph was kind of glad he couldn’t see from the angle he was sitting at. It felt like cowardice not to want to know. But knowing wouldn’t help – there were three very capable people helping right now, and Raph’s job was the warm up his other baby brother shivering in his arms.

He would succeed. He’d been told many times that he was warm like a furnace. He would draw Leo out and – and –

Cross that bridge when he got to it.

“Lou.” Draxum said, voice a little stern and annoyed, but it was a disguised concern when he ordered. “Sit down.”

“I can help.” Splinter did look like he was going to pass out.

“Dad.” Mikey called, reaching his hand out.

Splinter hesitated, but sighed and joined them on the spare cot. April took his place, rolling up her own sleeves at the sink and raising a challenging eyebrow when Draxum glanced at her. He didn’t argue, and her hands were steady when they cleaned the wound together. A shadow fell on her face the longer they worked, but she did not falter.

Splinter stopped watching them work on Donnie and instead lowered himself to the head of Leo’s shell, thumbing at the cracked lip and whispering something that Raph couldn't hear. That he actively tried not to hear, even as snippets of words like ‘you're home’ and ‘safe’ and ‘love you’ floated past.

Donnie’s leg was cleaned and wrapped in stark white bandages. It seemed to contrast how dirty the rest of his skin was, flakes of crusted blood falling on the cot. They splinted it into place as well, apparently a broken ankle underneath all that. Casey had successfully gotten the IV running and pumping Donnie full of necessary drugs, and together the three of them turned Donnie carefully in position to look at his shell.

Raph was pathetically grateful that they did so away from the rest of them. Instead of looking at their faces to see the reactions, he kept his eyes on Donnie. The loose open hand, thin breathing and shut eyes. His fiery passionate brother looked so vulnerable, he’d hate this.

The last ten days had really felt like the worst kind of suspension, the panic of a never-ending waiting room, and he’d almost childishly and naively had assumed that once they got them back, things would start to feel better. But it didn’t feel better, it felt like a brand new kind of worse that he’d never experienced before. Worrying about the twins, wondering what was happening to them – even in his worst imagination, he hadn’t been close to reality. Beyond the intense fear that they would’ve been dead… that shouldn’t have felt like maybe it would’ve been kinder.

He caught the words ‘sweet baby blue’, and ‘please’ from Splinter. Raph glanced to his other side when he realized Mikey hadn’t made a single sound, and he was staring at Donnie, not blinking, not breathing, fingers twisted together in his lap.

“Pops.” Raph found his own voice, in the pricks of blood coming through the compression bandages. “Can you check on Mikey’s hands?”

“They’re fine.” Mikey said, automatic, not looking away.

“Then it won’t matter if I check.” Splinter straightened up, scooting around to settle beside Mikey, peeling off his bandages. The painful cracks were definitely deeper than they were before, and Splinter hissed under his breath.

“Compression and ice.” Draxum chimed in, not looking up from the careful stitching they were putting in the leathery shell. An endless task, the three of them taking turns supporting and stitching and cleaning.

Splinter coaxed Mikey into rewrapping tighter bandages, and letting Splinter arrange ice packs around his hands and wrists.

It felt like the stitches took hours. But really, Raph had no idea. He was existing in the space between heartbeats, listening to the ting of tools against the metal tray, and the overheated sensation of too many blankets. He didn’t dare dislodge any of them. Eventually, the trio got Donnie’s shell wrapped in equally white bandages, and settled him in the recovery position to rest, as they couldn’t lay him on his back.

It was going to be the same for Leo, as soon as he emerged. Raph wasn’t even sure what they could do with the shell, since it wasn’t leathery like Donnie’s. The explosive crack down the middle and fractured to the sides was just so … daunting. Even if it meant hey, at least it wasn’t his spine.

The shivering slowed, just at the point where the other three had stepped away to clean the blood off themselves. Raph felt the shake peter off, and leaned over to mumble, “Leo?” in a hopeful kind of way.

After a pause, movement. Head and limbs into the blankets, and Raph didn’t linger to see, he simply bundled up all the revealed pieces of his brother and unhesitatingly hugged him. Careful gentle giant as he could be, but heart squeezing with relief and fear at once. The glimpse he saw was skin as black and purple as a night sky. He lived in ignorance a moment longer, trying to swallow down the joy at successfully managing to earn back something he thought he’d lost.

“Mmm?” Leo hummed in his ear, vague in a worrying way. Raph pulled back to see his face and it was not pretty. Beyond the split lip, messy blood down his chin, and the obvious bruises that promised fractures underneath – just the distant stare with a pained squint in the light was enough to immediately drop his stomach. Then Leo said, dull, “Am I dead?”

Raph inhaled, and managed through the crush of emotion, “No, buddy, you’re home.”

“Oh.” That statement was completely unreadable and gave Raph absolutely nothing. The incredibly far away pupils, blinking slow and lethargic, barely capable of any gears turning in there.

Raph glanced up, Splinter and Mikey wide eyed and equally overwhelmed beside him. Then a bruised hand raised shakily out of the blankets into his vision and he looked back down.

Leo touched the little chasm between his brows, a bit wondering, a lot vague. He said, “Raph.”

“Hi Leo.” Raph said, throat incredibly sore. He didn’t want to cry, he didn’t feel as if he had the right.

“Hi Leo.” Mikey echoed, leaning in closer, his voice a little desperate.

“Mikey.” Leo acknowledged, and the recognition was definitely an improvement over getting shocked for reaching out.

Except then Leo’s face spasmed, vulnerable and lost, and he pushed up. Voice high in panic, “Where’s Donnie?”

“He’s fine, don’t move.” Raph said, watching as the pain rippled over Leo’s face at the attempt.

“Where is he?” Leo repeated, the wrong edge of frantic.

“Right here.” Raph tipped Leo's head gently to the side, where Donnie was asleep facing them – bandaged and attached to IV’s and machines. “He’s fine. We got him fixed up for you, okay? I know it’s probably not your standards but we did our best.”

Leo didn’t reply. He was staring at his twin with an absolutely unreadable expression on his face, eyes flickering over his figure hungrily, searching, and settling on his face. Staying right there. Then Leo swallowed, and said, “Thank you.”

Raph carefully pulled a corner of blanket away. The sight underneath somehow managed to pierce his over-taxed brain – he’d assumed that there was an upper limit of how much ice-dipped horror he could feel, but apparently not. Mikey’s shuddered breath beside him said much of the same. Splinter began to swipe at his face again.

Despite the fact that it looked as if Leo should’ve been in unbearable pain, he wasn't making a show of it. Raph didn’t even know someone could look that bruised, discoloured — his wrist was at an unnatural angle, there was a long claw mark chipped in the middle of his plastron, both his knees were burst skin and bleeding, and there must’ve been some head wound if Donnie had given up his precious bandana to bandage it. The sight of purple against his skin lurched his stomach, in a weird way. They were taking care of each other in there. It wasn’t enough.

“Hey bud.” Raph was horrified at the rasp in his voice and cleared his throat before continuing. “Do you know where you are?”

“Med bay.” Leo said, not peeling his eyes away from Donnie across from him. “You guys put him on anti-biotics, right?”

“The whole spectrum." Raph replied, with his limited understanding. "Casey Junior took care of him, and from what I understand, you were the one who taught him how to do it. So you can probably trust that he did it right."

A slow, listless blink. Leo didn't waver his attention from the figure across from them in the slightest.

"My son." Splinter said, voice watery. "It is your turn. Can we take a look at your injuries?"

"Donnie's all taken care of?" Leo prompted.

Casey skirted back in, having washed the blood off and returning with clean, gloved hands. "Yes, pulse is stable. His blood pressure is high, but it's gone down since the painkillers kicked in and I got the oxygen going."

"What'd you give?" Leo asked next, the attempt at authority ruined by how vague his voice was.

Casey held the make-shift chart he'd started so Leo could see, a gloss of multi-syllable medication names transcribed in cramped handwriting.

"Okay." Leo nodded, settling back into Raph's hold.

"Are you ready for us to take a look at your injuries?" Casey prompted, when Leo still hadn't answered that question.

"Oh." Leo touched his head, sounding distant. "Alright."

The level of limp compliance was almost sickening. Splinter and Mikey shuffled off the spare cot to give Raph room to lay him down independently, ignoring how the lack of warmth in his arms made everything feel f*cking terrible.

And then faced with the reality in front of him. Seeing the crack in his shell and the fingerpaint of endless bruises, it was a miracle that Leo could even form sentences. He looked -- he looked --

Not very alive.

"Talk to me." Casey asked, prepping an IV line briskly. Raph stepped out of the way, instinctively curling his arm around Mikey worming close to his side.

"Concussion." Leo said, after a moment. "That'll be ... that'll be the thing to watch out for. I'm pretty good otherwise, compared to D."

"Leonardo, your shell is cracked into practically four pieces on your back." Casey told him, sharper. "Would you like to reassess?"

"Huh?" Leo's brow furrowed, and he raised his hand, staring at the bruises and the misshapen wrist. "Oh. Yeah. That. Sorry. Concussion, and all."

The helpless screaming in Raph's mind of what happened...

"How's the pain?" Casey tweaked the line, already preparing the needle before he'd even waited for an answer.

"Not sure." Leo replied. "Don't give me a sedative."

"Sorry, you want to be conscious for the part where I'm gonna drill holes in your shell?" Casey prompted.

"Yup." Leo tiredly popped his lips. The casualness in his voice was really increasing Raph's desire to burst into tears. Mikey squeezed his hold tighter, quiet. Like watching a trainwreck together.

"Can I give you a painkiller at least or will that ruin this whole self-destructive vibe you've got going on?"

Leo snorted, and gave a crooked smile. "Yeah, that's fine. I just don't want to go to sleep yet."

A small amount of the tension faded. Evicted from the cot, Raph tugged Mikey back over to the chairs, settling his baby brother in his lap to hold onto like a teddy bear.

It was probably actually good that Leo stayed awake, because his slurred voice talked them through his entire check up. The clinical report of his concussion symptoms — disorientation, a period of memory loss, vomiting, dizziness, light sensitivity, pupil dilation — all said while keeping his eyes on the loose open hand of Donnie across from him.

Draxum returned, face doing funny things when he saw Leo was awake, like he wasn’t sure how to react.

“Oh good, Draxum’s here.” Leo said, and it was tiredly sarcastic.

“Leonardo.” Draxum acknowledged.

“He’s awake—“ April pushed back him and then stopped in her tracks, eyes huge.

A jokey smile lined with exhaustion. “I look that good, hey Apes? It’s my new foundation.”

“You might want to try a new moisturizer.” April said, struggling audibly but not breaking in the face of her shattered little brother.

“Good call.” Leo returned to his intent stare across the room.

It was quite a show — the devastating reality that Leo felt the need to do a performance for them when he was the one in pain — that Leo was all about making this experience easier for their sake. Even with his foggy eyes and delayed flinch when Casey took his wrist, immediately gifting a reassuring look to the kid.

A reassuring smile on a corpse.

Casey directed the play of treatment. Draxum and April on stitching up his head wound, while Casey set his wrist. Raph felt like the most haunting part of all was that despite the sickening crack that filled every corner of the med bay, Leo didn’t even flinch. He looked entirely zoned out, as Draxum threaded and tugged on a gruesome wound on his crown. The goat made an idle comment about how it looked older and reopened.

Raph wasn’t sure if he wanted the timeline of how the injuries stacked on his failure at being quick enough to save them. It was all just too much right now.

Casey splinted the wrist, saying that he’d cast it later when the swelling went down. He cleaned the blood from his split lip and knees, giving his mouth a couple stitches and his knees a wrap of bandages. He checked and found more broken bones hiding under all those bruises — three ribs, his collarbone, a crack in his orbital socket, and at least two fingers and two toes.

The purple bandana was set aside and new clean bandages held Leo’s skull in place. They started to turn him over in order to inspect his shell, and despite the fact that Raph had thought he was totally zoned out Leo said, “Stop.”

“Does it hurt?” Casey inquired immediately, brisk.

“No, well -- no. I just. The other side, okay?"

Raph immediately understood. Casey had tried to turn Leo to face the wall instead of Donnie.

"Alright." Casey agreed, and carefully shifted him over to reach his shell from the other side of the cot.

Leo stayed still and unmoving, cheek pressed into his arm staring at his twin as the three cleaned the mess back there, drilled hooks into his shell and twined the edges together with wire. Mikey hid his face in Raph's arm at how hard Draxum had to pull it taunt. Splinter made a weak, wounded sound in the back of his throat.

The colour drained out of Leo's face and he went limp.

"Finally." Casey muttered, and immediately crossed back over to the other side to arrange Leo into a more comfortable position. "Just as stubborn as he will be twenty years from now. Cracked into tiny pieces and he's still making jokes."

Leo wasn't conscious for the rest of the process, and Casey wrapped his shell in thick swaths of bandages. Then he splinted his fingers and toes together to help with the more minor breaks, checking his breathing from the broken ribs and immobilizing the arm with the broken collarbone -- his left, the same as the splinted wrist.

And just like that, the insurmountable task of dealing with the sheer number of injuries was done. Casey collapsed in a chair, hand over his face, and shuddered through an overwhelmed breath.

Splinter approached and gave him a gentle hug. He whispered, "Thank you so much."

"Of course." Casey said, almost reflexively. A sad smile raised up into stark medical lights. "I'm just glad I could help. There's still a lot up in the air -- both are practically begging for an infection, if Donnie doesn't have one already. But that's a lot of their immediate problems addressed."

"You are a gift to our family." Splinter proclaimed, giving a squeeze. "Please take care of yourself now, young man."

"Sir yes sir." Casey's sad smile went wry. "Do y'all mind if I crash on your couch?"

"Nah, come on. You take Leo's room, I'll take Donnie's." April offered.

"Sure." Casey pat Splinter's hand to let go and stood up. "I'm gonna grab a nap, but I'll check on them in a couple hours. Come get me if something changes."

Splinter nodded.

Draxum pulled Mikey aside to inspect his hands. Raph watched the breathing cycle of two people he loved more than anything that he never thought he'd see again. All of the rushing overwhelm of treating their injuries made it feel up in the air, but it was stillness now. It was quiet now.

Then Raph stood up, because he knew his brothers, and he knew that the position they had was just asking whichever twin woke up first to hurt themselves. He gently arranged the IV pole so it wouldn't pull when he moved the cot, and rolled the beds closer together. If they reached out, they could touch.

They'd had very little possessions on them -- beyond the sword that was still on the floor of the dojo, the two had lost most of their gear. The only thing left was the purple bandana discarded on the floor in favour of real bandages.

Raph picked up the dirty and blood stained thing, feeling cold all over. And even more so when he realized there was something tucked inside for safe-keeping. Folded twice, a small photograph.

He stared for a long, uncomprehending moment, then tucked it away into his pocket.

"It is very late, Raphael." Splinter said, coming closer.

There was no way he was walking away now. He shook his head, unable to voice further.

"I understand." Splinter allowed, not fighting him. "I will stay with you."

Raph didn't argue. They pulled chairs up to Leo's side -- mostly because Raph didn't want to crowd Donnie if he woke in that snapping mode again.

The shock was strong and thick. None of this felt real. How sorely he wanted it to be real fighting viciously in his mental parking lot with how much he didn't want this to be real. He didn't want to imagine hands around his little brother's throat. And he didn't want to see more bruise than skin and hear the kind of jokes Leo would make at his own funeral.

It was fine. No, it was fine. Neither of them were dead. It felt overwhelming now, but it was just the start. There was so much more to go, and they would do it, because they were Hamato.

But still. When Splinter offered his hand, Raph took it and didn't let go. He asked, "You okay, Pops?"

"I am undecided." Splinter replied.

"Me too." Raph said, quiet.

A squeeze of their hold. The twins breathed in sync beside them. The recovery position had both of them facing each other, curved in parallel. Recovery seemed so far away, looking at these broken twins spat back out from hell. There was so far to go. The mountain of it seemed impossible to climb.

Mikey tried to come back, but Splinter got up and ushered him to bed instead. The youngest went under duress, and Raph stayed an unmoving statue. Only when he was alone with two unconscious little brothers did he pull back out the photograph and look at it again.

His family, frozen smiles in time, arms around each other in love. Each face grinning up at him.

Except for Leo's, scratched out and leaving a gaping hole.

Chapter 19

Chapter Text

Awareness crept in slow. A trip-heart beat of panic, because Donnie was fairly sure he was supposed to have been on watch and fell asleep again. Leo could be dead in his arms now.

Except it didn’t feel right. There was no hard reassuring wall of the cave at his back, and no weight in his arms. He struggled to remember what happened most recently, if he had been on watch and failed, if they’d changed locations again, if Leo had left while he was asleep —

Then a squeeze. Fingers curled around his, breaking through the growing cotton panic. He’d knew that grip better than his own. Leo was here and he was awake, watching.

Momentary relief. A fragmented moment that everything was okay, because his twin was here.

And it changed again, as confusion settled and took hold, because nothing felt right. It wasn't right -- he was off the ground, he felt restrained and tangled, and worst of all disorientated and woozy, like he might throw up. Water was too precious to be puking. And wait, hold on, the pain that had been more of a constant companion than even Leo was weird and there-but-not-there. Like he was looking at his reflection in rippled water. And that made less sense, because how did he have less pain not more? The trajectory was only upwards and they both knew it. The only trajectory was getting closer to death, not further away.

Leo squeezed his hand again, coaxing. Donnie fought to the surface of the murky waters of his thoughts, trying to parse out the barrage of inputs.

A trickle in his throat, that hurt in an abstract way, the muscles spasming hard when he swallowed. A moment it took to realize that it was the tube threaded down his nose and likely providing oxygen. Hold on, actually hold on for real. How the hell did Leo get --

Oh.

A butterfly wing flutter of light in darkness. Being drawn from hell to the spring back of a dojo floor. And Donnie staring at April with the tears in her eyes and thinking maybe he was home. Maybe they made it home.

This evidence further supported the claim. Not even Leon could produce an oxygen tank in hell.

Did that mean they had treated Leo as well? They must've, but for some reason trust wasn't enough, he needed to see. Donnie fought the crust sticking his eyelashes together and braved the light.

It actually wasn't that bright, someone had turned down the med bay overheads and left just the side table lamps. It bathed the room in yellow-white warmth.

Donnie was carefully on his side, keeping the pressure off his bandaged shell, the arm outstretched in front with an IV line sticking out of his wrist. His fingers were wrapped in Leo's, who was beside him, reaching over the small gap between their cots.

By the time Donnie's eyes found Leo's face, his twin was already smiling back at him. Leo whispered, "Hey. Don't talk, okay?"

Another failure at swallowing told him exactly why that would be a bad idea. The tumble of knives down each individual muscle it took to move his trachea. Instead he drank in the sight of his brother with the clean bandages on his head, much more effective than Donnie's scared attempt.

Trailing down, more bandages. A large amount on the arm Donnie wasn't holding and his shell. Every inch of skin that was not bandaged was bruised, though it wasn't obvious by looking at Leo's expression. It was a picture-perfect reassurance.

Donnie didn't buy it for a second, he'd witnessed far too much to think that Leo was actually okay right now. He turned his gaze around, looking for the audience, and there they were.

Raph was asleep in the chair. Head tipped back, snoring quietly. Beside him was Mikey, who was awake and watching.

It was illogical that Donnie's skin crawled at the sensation, because he missed his brothers so much. It was just right now he couldn't actually feel that, he could just feel some unwanted tumbling emotion take over everything else. Even his desired joy at finally being home and safe was ruined by the unnamed ball of feelings bulldozing over his mental state.

"Mikey said you had struggled a little when you got here, do you know where you are now?" Leo prompted, still hushed-quiet.

Donnie managed with all his will power to raise a single eyebrow and communicate without a word, how do you expect me to answer when you told me not to talk?

"You can still sign." Leo pointed out, the corner of his mouth twigging a little. Helplessly amused.

Donnie could sign in theory. Unfortunately, that would require letting go of Leo's hand. And honestly, he didn't think he could do that right now. Or possibly ever again.

Using his free hand, he finger-spelled, 'Home.'

"Yeah, we're home." Leo squeezed where they were connected. And whatever emotions were rocketing around inside Donnie, he could hear them inside Leo too, underneath the shade of reassurance he was using like an umbrella. He wasn't alone in this.

Footsteps. Donnie flinched and curled closer to Leo.

"Sorry." Mikey said, in a heartbroken little voice, stopping in his tracks.

"You're fine, Angelo." Leo looked up over Donnie's shoulder and beamed his calculated expression right at this baby brother. "D's just got his back to you, so you startled him. You're okay to come over if you like."

The worst part was that no, actually, Mikey wasn't okay to come over. Donnie wanted to stay in this little bubble and not cope with other people right now. He wanted to cling to the sensation that he missed them, but it was ephemeral. He couldn't hold onto the river, it slid between his fingers.

"Alright." Mikey's voice held skepticism, but their baby brother wanted to be included and hopped onto the edge of Leo's bed, careful of injuries and looking for the safest place to land.

"Hi Donnie." Mikey said. "You're not gonna shock me this time, right?"

Donnie might, actually, if anyone tried to touch him. Well, anyone who wasn't Leo, obviously. He kept his gaze wary to communicate that.

Disappointment visibly fractured down Mikey's figure, and that -- that was understandable. Even more so than Leo, Mikey had always earned baby brother privileges over the rest of them to hug Donnie even at his most prickly.

"Okay, well, um, I just wanted to say that we're really, really glad you're both home, and if you need anything please let us know." Mikey fidgeted with his own bandaged hands. Actually, why were they bandaged? When he left them on Staten Island, they weren't too bad off, and certainly nothing like the cracked skin he could see peeking out the edge.

Donnie tapped his finger on Leo's for his attention, and then flicked his gaze to Mikey's hands in show.

Leo followed the gaze and said, "I'm not the only one who can open portals, apparently."

"Oh... yeah." Mikey crossed his arms over his chest, the misery absolute on his face. "It's fine. How'd you manage to open the portal on your side? Leo said he didn't know."

Donnie had no idea how to explain it, because he didn't understand it himself. And wasn't that just hilarious? He blinked a couple times then shook his head -- only to wince and shut his eyes, a slow shuddered breath through the immediate pain that erupted.

"Try not to move your head, D." Leo muttered.

Donnie cracked open one eye and sent a look that clearly said, wow, thanks, hadn't thought of that. Slash sarcasm.

An apologetic squeeze of his hand. Donnie breathed carefully and slow through the pain. When he finally uncurled from his full body wince, Mikey was watching with the most crushed expression of all time.

Okay. Alright. Home. His brothers. Donnie needed to start coping with this a little bit, because it was only going to keep happening. As much as he wanted to rock back and forth in the corner, his body was not going to allow that. So he had to use his brain. He had so much amazing brain, he could do this. Only needed to stop thinking about his imminent death and start thinking about his only baby brother looking devastated. Something that Mikey could do to help him feel better.

Donnie used his only free hand to spell, 'Burger.'

Sick amusem*nt passed over Leo. Mikey's brow pinched and he said, "Casey Junior said you guys gotta start on easier stuff than that."

"He doesn't actually want a burger." Leo explained, rolling his eyes and tipping his lazy smile towards Mikey. "He's asking for food, though. Do you wanna make us something?"

"Absolutely I do." Mikey nodded quick and enthusiastic. "What are we thinking? I could probably whip up a nice soup, maybe some fresh bread."

"Soup sounds perfect, Miguel." Leo opened his arm and accepted the hug that Mikey gave him -- though it was not nearly the glomp he was capable of. Incredibly delicate in respect for the bruises.

Leo didn't even seem to notice his injuries, wrangling Mikey to kiss the top of his head. "Thank you."

"Of course." Mikey breathed, and squished his cheek against Leo's plastron. Half-lidded eyes stared at Donnie, and he said, "I love you both. So much."

"We love you too." Leo answered, giving another few smothering kisses. "Don't wake on the bear though."

The bear in question snored from his side of the room. Seemingly no interest in waking.

"I won't, he's really tired." Mikey promised, and let go. "I'll be back with something that's gonna taste so so good, I promise."

"I have complete faith in you." Leo pronounced.

Mikey beamed, placated, and left without waking the bear. Functionally leaving the twins alone. The moment they were, all the ease and lazy care melted away -- revealing how it was a near lunatic-calm, pin-pricked pupils and Leo shuffling to get the IV pole keeping their beds separated out of the way, fighting the locked wheels and dragging them closer. The space between them destroyed, Leo climbed close enough to hug Donnie. And he did, with everything his weak and bruised arms had.

Donnie hugged back. Careful of the shell, and shuddering through the immediate panic that sprouted for absolutely no reason. Heart racing, hands shaking, and --

It was okay. Leo was there. He held onto him, shaking just as hard.

"How the hell did we get away?" Leo breathed in his ear, that tone of voice nearly insane, crisp and stark. "What did you do?"

Donnie had no possible way to answer him, clutched tighter, fingers curling.

"Did he --" Leo's breath hitched, hard. "Did he touch you again? After I --?"

It was interesting that he cut himself off, as Donnie had been real curious how Leo was conceptualizing what happened in his head. And yeah, maybe along with all the other writhing mass of emotions there was still this horrible unnecessary and mean anger at Leo for begging in the first place. It wasn't fair. He felt it so strong it was corrosive acid and wasp stingers.

"No." Donnie croaked, because he hadn't. Prime had kicked the sh*t out of his purple bubble, and scared them both half to death running along the top of the ship after they'd gotten away -- but from the moment Leo begged for Prime to hurt him, Donnie had been safe from his hand.

"Shh." Leo immediately hushed, but it was weak with relief. "I told you don't talk, genius."

Donnie dug his chin into Leo's shoulder, a silent how the f*ck am I supposed to answer your questions then if you keep hugging me.

"Oh, do you want me to let go?" Leo asked, and it was a joke, because obviously he didn't.

Donnie didn't take the chance that it wasn't a joke and held on tighter. Leo oofed, in actual pain, but kept him close regardless.

All the waving nerves stopped their riot. His heart calmed. The world stopped ending for the thousandth time. Leo was still alive. They were home. They were safe. And Leo was still alive.

Truly the biggest miracle of them all, something that Donnie didn't have the power to articulate right now. The thick weights of exhaustion pulled him down before the metaphorical burger even arrived.

Sleep was immeasurably thick when he was roused, face numb, and clasping Leo's hands before he'd even surfaced.

"You're fine, we've got Casey here for the painkillers and Mikey here for the soup." Leo informed him, voice returned to his only slightly concussion-hazed showmanship, tugging gently. "Come on, you'll feel better after you eat. Maybe a bit less snappish."

Just to prove him right, Donnie clicked his teeth shut sharp and loud.

"Badass motherf*cker, I know, I know." Leo agreed. "However it's chicken and rice soup, so."

Damn. That sounded good. Oh, it would be so perfect with a tomato sandwich. Donnie was so hungry that he'd forgotten what it felt like to not be hungry, all the constant daydreams of stupid food right at the forefront.

Except maybe he could open his eyes and actually eat right now. That was good motivation.

No tomato sandwich, which was a shame because toasted bread with melted butter, crisp bacon and a dash of salt would be so f*cking good. But the hot broth smelt salty enough with added basil and pepper. For a first meal back from hell, it definitely could've moved Donnie to tears if he had any amount of emotional capacity at the moment that wasn't 'needless anger' or 'endless confusion'.

Though now that he had his eyes on the bowl, that nausea sat at the back of his throat. Maybe it was the painkillers, or maybe it was that fun autistic thing where if he got too hungry it turned his stomach. Either way, the miracle of that soup was not quite the easy meal it should've been.

Leo was sitting up, braced on both sides by pillows. He helped Donnie remove the tube threaded down his nose, which was a solid zero out of ten experience. They switched for a nose cranula, a far more gentle blow of oxygen, though it definitely didn't seem to have the same reach. Then Leo stayed close enough with their cots shoved together that they intersected close contact at their knees and hips and shoulders.

Mikey arranged a tray with the soup in front of them. Casey fiddled with their IV's, showing Leo the little bottles and his handwritten charts as he worked.

Donnie stared down the soup. He'd asked for this burger, he wanted it more than anything, but the idea of eating made him sick. He picked up the spoon and ladled a little. It smelt so good. He couldn't stand it.

"It's cool enough to have now, Donnie." Mikey said, unbearably nervous to speak to him in a way that never should've happened. Feeling bad about getting to that point was something that could not be added to the mountain of feelings.

It was hard, really. The 'I thought we were going to die' feeling just took up so much space. And it didn't want to move.

Casey skirted out of the way again, leaving the showdown between him and soup. Donnie took a sip, then immediately set the spoon down and stimmed his hands hard. The physical sensation of the salt in his mouth wasn't bad it just also wasn't good. It was overwhelming and too much and --

"You're okay, you're okay." Leo promised, arm threading carefully around his shoulders and squeezing hard. "It's fine. Keep breathing slow, don't hurt your throat okay?"

The violent twitches of his hands died down. Donnie's face flamed with heat, something between upset and embarrassed. But it wasn't as if Mikey had never seen him have a little mini meltdown. It was just right now he felt so dissected so watched and -- it was hard.

The salty broth blazed a path down his sore throat. It hit the empty pit of his stomach and woke hunger with vengeance. He picked up the spoon again and took another mouthful, saliva flooding and stomach clenching. The taste lingered on his tongue, sweeping away days of grime and blood and unbrushed teeth. He got some rice and the soft chew of it was wonderful. Nevermind, this was great. Donnie ate more, feeling like he'd won the lottery over a bowl of soup.

And when he glanced up, Leo was looking at him, that absolutely horrible ravenous expression. That he shaded away and smiled his fakest smile. "It's good, hey? Mike made it fresh."

Donnie glanced over to his baby brother, who was watching all hurting and anticipatory. So after a second of thought of what Leo was trying to get him to do, he signed, 'Thank you.'

Right answer. Both Leo and Mikey looked pleased with him. Donnie leaned over and swallowed a bit more.

The tiny fist of his stomach filled too-quick. Donnie barely touched the chicken, but enjoyed the broth and rice he'd managed. He set the spoon down and gave Leo his absolute most withering gaze, already knowing the battle he was about to fight.

"Don't look at me like that." Leo said, and some of his concussion slur came out in the twist of his words, the near-whine. "I know, I know, it's my turn. Scoot it closer."

Mikey was quick to assist shifting the tray over, and Leo obligingly lifted the spoon to his mouth.

It was a great show. Really, perfectly calculating, the tip of the spoon, a shaky hand lowering back down to the bowl. If Donnie hadn't activated every braincell he had left looking for the play, he might've missed that the spoon was lowered exactly as full when it went up, or that with the stitches in his split lip there was no way if he'd actually been trying to eat, that he wouldn't have dribbled broth on himself.

He allowed Leo two more fake-outs, the rage bubbling under the surface, before he snapped his fingers repeatedly in front of Leo's face.

"What?" Leo said, startled. He'd thought he was winning. He was a fool if Donnie was going to fall for this bullsh*t.

'Do not play this game with me right now.' Donnie signed, sharp and angry.

Caught-understanding flashed, and Leo said, "I'm not."

Lying brother who lies. Donnie tapped an irritated hand to his mouth, 'Eat.'

"Get off my dick." Leo muttered, and hunched his shoulders as he took another spoonful to his mouth like a kicked dog. This time, there was a dribble of broth from his split lip and a wince as it obviously filled that wound with salt.

Mikey looked caught off guard and confused, flickering between the twins. He was twisting his fingers together, pulling on them anxiously. It couldn't have been good for the cracked skin. Donnie had an instinct to stop him -- that his worry over them shouldn't be causing them more pain.

It took a little more bravery than interacting with his own brother should've needed, but Donnie reached out and folded his fingers over Mikey's. Squeezing for him to stop.

"Sorry." Mikey said, almost automatic, cheeks flushing. But something relieved flickered in his eyes when he looked back at Donnie. It didn't last long, because when Mikey tried to turn his fingers to squeeze back, Donnie ruined the moment by yanking his hand away like it burnt.

He didn't dare look at Mikey's face, to see the bite of rejection and exclusion, he couldn't take it. Instead he focused on the slight tremble of Leo's hand as he raised another spoonful to his mouth, tracking that some actually made it inside his body. Whatever stupid reasoning Leo had for the denial made even less sense in the safety of their home.

Although. It wasn't as if Donnie could blame Leo for still feeling like it was a do-or-die, that the low-level hum hung in the air and the grit clung to them. That he needed to keep making the same kinds of decisions, as if this was a dim cave instead of the warmly lit med bay. It was obviously the same for Donnie.

Being awake was hard, the pull of drugs that Casey had redistributed fuzzing the atmosphere around the edges. But Donnie didn't submit yet, a silent standoff with his twin to finish the soup.

Leo set the spoon down after sipping achingly slow for ages, and said, "Thank you, Mikes. It tasted great."

There was still more in the bowl. But if Leo's stomach was half as small as Donnie's, it made sense. Mikey's wavering smile didn't argue the half-empty bowl, and took it away. "Of course, you guys. Anything you want, I'm here."

Just as Raph began to stir, Donnie laid down again, the exhaustion yanking too hard and tight. It was convenient so that Donnie didn't have to interact as he was going back to sleep. Unable to lie on his back, he curled into Leo who stayed sitting up against the pillow. A hand carefully laid on his shell, encouraging his rest with a gentle rub of his thumb.

"How are you guys feeling?" Raph tugged his chair closer, clearing the sleep out of his voice.

Donnie kept his eyes closed, even as the sound of increased proximity made him flinch. Leo's hand tapped a quick 'OK' in morse code on his shell. He didn't give an indication of the non-verbal reply.

"We're hanging out." Leo's voice said concurrently, a performance cultivated perfectly. The way his words were barely slurred so carefully tucked away. "I'm glad you got some rest, big guy. Has anyone looked at your hands?"

Raph's hands? Donnie fought the urge to turn around, playing like he was Definitely Going To Sleep with all his might. But a niggling curiosity remained.

"They're better than Mikey's." Raph dismissed immediately.

"Is that how that works?" Leo asked, fake-lightly.

"Compression and ice." Mikey chimed in. "Then Barry just got a recipe for a really good salve that'll help with the burning, he said he'd bring it next time."

"Alright, alright." Raph agreed gruffly. "Mikey got you guys some food?"

"Yup." Leo popped his lips. He sounded tired, threaded underneath.

"Why was Donnie arguing with you about eating?" Mikey asked, confused.

Donnie fought hard not to tense. Leo must've felt it anyway, because his fingers tapped back and forth on his shell, quick. Reassuring, but subtle.

"He just wanted to make sure I was eating enough." Leo deflected with his easy tone of voice. Not getting to the real problem at all. "Food was a bit scarce for us."

A bitter understatement.

"Oh." Mikey sounded that same painful crushed. "Um. Okay. Can I ask another question?"

"You can ask." Leo remained the same, even as Donnie immediately felt his own brain sprint ahead with a hundred different worse case scenarios of what Mikey might ask.

"Why didn't you answer when we called the first time?"

A beat of surprised silence. Leo admitted, slower, "I'll be honest with you, bud. I don't even know how we answered at all. Last I remember the sword was broken."

"You haven't seen?" Raph asked.

"Seen what?"

Donnie felt oddly shy. He wished that he was asleep, unsure why he cared if Leo saw what Donnie had done to his sword.

"Hold on a second, it's easier to show you." Mikey's socked footsteps padded away, returning just a few moments later. A slide of metal and something placed on the foot of their combined cots.

Donnie knew exactly what they were looking at, the familiar sight of Leo's sword -- strapped to his back or juggled in his hands for years. Except now fissures just like the crack in his shell were healed with darkened purple ninpo.

"How..." Leo breathed, letting go of Donnie to lean over and pick up the sword for a closer inspection.

"It must've been Donnie, right? It's purple." Mikey extrapolated correctly.

"Yeah, must've been." There was something in Leo's voice that it took Donnie a moment to uncomfortably place as awe. As if he earned that, when he hadn't been capable of stopping the crack in his shell in the first place.

The sword was handed back. Leo settled down, hand on Donnie's shell, quiet for a moment before saying, "I'm sorry we didn't answer the first time you called, I didn't get the chance to tell Donnie about our conversation. I hope it didn't scare you."

The returning silence told Donnie, even without any facial expressions, that it did scare them. He tried not to focus on that and instead wondered how the hell they had a conversation? That was still a missing piece in his puzzle of the rescue. But not curious enough to give up his position of not having to interact because he was 'asleep'.

"It's okay." Mikey said, when it obviously wasn't, with an awkward shuffle.

Donnie embraced the drag of painkillers, letting their conversation go foggy and distant until sleep was no longer a pretend game.

The dreams were of a pink face and hands around his throat. Dream logic gave Prime about fifteen fingers to strangle him with. Then he woke coughing, an explosion of copper in the back of his throat, blood on his tongue. Trying to cobble together a breath of air from the sudden lack of it, a burst of panic.

Whether the coughing was from the dream or the dream was from the coughing, it was impossible to tell. Pinching together gasps of air as the world swum in starbursts.

"Slow down, slow down, you're gonna crack another rib if you're not careful." Leo in his ear, trying to sound coaxing and it was all ruined with the undisguised worry. "He's fine, give him some space, he's got it."

Donnie wasn't entirely sure that he 'got it', but also if anyone other than Leo was going to try to help right now he might explode. So probably for the best.

He fought with the urge to cough harder, like it might clear his throat. But there probably wasn't actually anything there -- maybe it was the inflammation on either side of his throat, closing his throat long after the danger passed --

No. No. He was fine. He could still breathe and pull air. It was all in his head. Prime didn't still have hands around his throat. Leo was doing big, exaggerated slow breaths beside him. As if Donnie could forget how to breathe. It was annoying that following along helped. He hated it when Leo was right about stuff that made no sense.

"Yeah, that's great, thank you." Leo accepted something over his head. "Cold water bottle right here, D. Want a sip?"

Urgh. Donnie should not have been so used to the taste of blood in his mouth. He gratefully pulled away from where he'd been hiding in Leo's side tangled in the blanket and accepted the condensation covered bottle. His hand shook too much to raise to his mouth, but Leo's hand was right there steadying it. A blissful trail of cool water down the misery of his throat set some of the tension out of his shoulders.

"Good." Leo said, and Donnie had enough brainpower to elbow him for being so sickeningly praiseful for something as stupid as drinking water. It oofed a laugh from Leo, sparkling and warm and fake, and he said, "Yeah, yeah. Suck it up, you get the medic bedside manner when you're hurt. How's it feeling right now?"

Donnie infused his signed response with as much sarcasm as he could muster, 'Awesome.'

Leo rolled his eyes, and insisted that he take another sip of the water bottle, guiding their hands up to his mouth. It felt amazing, filtered water. What luxury.

Then he remembered that it must've been handed to him from someone, and his hackles rose again, nervous to turn and see who was watching. That sh*tty, sh*tty feeling of hating himself for being so on guard around their family only contributed to the misery. He didn't want to feel this way and felt only additionally awful that he did.

He turned, and it was April. She was on her phone, not looking at them, reclined in the chair. When Donnie moved, she met his eye, and said, "I kicked the bozos out, they were hovering too much. Casey Junior just texted and said we gotta give meds now though, and as much as I love the patient playing healer I'm gonna have to draw the line at him administering his own medication."

"Aw, come on April, don't you trust me?" Leo fluttered his eyelashes at her.

"Nope." April popped her 'p' in the same way Leo always did. "Babe, you have been squinting at that light for ages, I know you're concussed. We also don't let the concussed administer their own meds."

"The concussion is old now." Leo dismissed, flapping a hand.

April got up and began sorting through the collection of medication bottles while simultaneously reading instructions from text messages on her phone. "Oh, totally, and then you gave yourself a second one shortly after. And Casey said it's worse when you have them close together, so stop trying to play like you're fine. No one's buying it."

"How'd you know that?" Leo complained, and some of the composure fell, turning his head away from the lamp beside them and squinting fully.

April gave a grimly triumphant smile. "I didn't. You just confirmed."

"Aw, f*ck off April." Leo groaned, and put his head in his hands.

Donnie pat his shoulder sympathetically. Played by their big sister once again. Donnie hadn't known whether or not Leo had re-concussed himself after the first injury, but with what happened... it sure wasn't surprising.

April gave a low chuckle and approached with the needle she'd prepared. "I'll take that for the compliment it is. Draxum said that you're head injury was older but reopened so we had our suspicions. Now hold still, you need to rest to recover."

"I am resting, I literally haven't moved." Leo gestured hugely, flapping his hands at the combined cots they were living on. Then a flash of panic, "Hey, hey, don't give me a sedative, is that what's in there?"

"Hamato Leonardo you have slept like two hours in the last twenty-four with what is apparently a double concussion." April stamped her foot. "Shut up and sleep."

"I--" Leo started, then cut himself off.

Donnie knew the problem. He tapped Leo's arm and waited him to turn his attention. Then Donnie signed, 'I'm awake now.'

Leo bit his lip. He flickered his gaze to April, and whispered low, "Are you sure?"

Donnie nodded his fist. He could stay awake for a while.

"Let me check what dosage Casey ordered." Leo turned and held his hand out for the phone. He squinted at the brightness, but begrudgingly allowed April to inject the meds into his IV line. Donnie tugged him to lie down, then pulled himself up.

"You could keep sleeping, Donnie." April suggested. "That coughing sounded nasty."

Donnie shook his fist, and let Leo hug him around the middle, adjusting the thick blanket to cover more of him. Waiting for the boneless turn into his side, snuffling and submitting.

April looked away, after a long moment. And Donnie settled in for his watch.

Chapter 20

Chapter Text

April stayed quiet in respect for the sleeping Leo. Donnie was glad she knew how precarious his rest was, even under sedatives. The last thing they needed was breaking the spell when they’d just finally gotten him to concede.

Donnie wished he could say that he was having some genius thoughts while guarding his twin's sleep, but the reality was more like a fog horn of anxiety and battering emotions.

A while later April gave a soft whistle for his attention, then signed from her chair across the room, ‘Do you need anything, boo?’

Donnie shook his fist in negative before he’d even thought about the answer longer than two seconds.

‘Your phone?’ April asked.

And. Huh. Right. It was almost funny, that he’d gone cold turkey on technology and hadn’t even noticed the absence. He'd managed to find the thing that actually beat his phone in priorities. A stupid ass blue twin.

The weirdest part was that the world continued on here without them -- that April was going to hand him his phone and it would have ten days worth of notifications. It daunted him in a way he didn't like, some kind of unspoken pressure. He agreed to his phone, but when April handed it to him, he put it on the bedside table and didn't look at it.

April watched him, but didn't comment. Instead she returned to her own phone, typing intently.

He focused on breathing, slow and careful. He didn't want to cough again -- not because it hurt, though it did, but because he'd never forgive himself if he woke Leo up after he finally went to sleep. He stared at the opposite wall, mind running through scenarios and discarding them as quickly as they came. There was no rhyme or reason to the direction of his thoughts, just a screaming endless stream.

Was there more he should've done for Leo with the apparent second concussion? In hindsight, it was fairly obvious, but they'd been injured and cold and there were bigger problems. Even if he'd thought to check his pupils or whatever, it's not like he had any capability to help.

He was still wondering incessantly about how the hell Leo managed to communicate his sword plan with the home team. It finally inspired him to pick up his phone, after a couple hours of sitting in silence with April. He suspected that she'd texted the others to stay away and lacked the energy to hack into her phone to find out for sure. Just as long as no one came in and woke the sleeping turtle, no one would have to die.

As suspected, there was about seven hundred notifications. All his social media pings, discord messages from various servers he participated in, a large collection of mostly useless emails, top news flags, updates from his tech communicating with his system, and the live feed of security alerts. Immediately overwhelming, as he suspected, and he cleared them all without reading a single one of them.

Instead he navigated to his text message string with April. The last message sent was from before the invasion. She'd said, 'Hey Donnie, wanna hear some hot tea?' and he'd called her immediately to get the scoop on the rich boy in her bio class that was making her insane.

Donnie hovered over the message line, not really actually wanting to have a conversation right now. But also practically itching with curiosity to understand how the hell the last couple days went down, because it made no sense to him and he hated it.

Donnie: Can I ask you a question?

He had hoped April had thought far enough ahead to put her phone on vibrate, and was glad when no sound pinged when the message went through. Of course she had. He didn't even know why he was doubting her. What was wrong with him?

April: You can ask me a thousand.

If things were normal, he would immediately open up his statistics page with an input for 'questions to April' with a flag marker for a thousand, specifically so he could tell her when they'd reached the quota. To be a smart ass with an incredibly long pay off.

However things weren't normal. Instead he chewed on the corner of his thumb, thinking of the best way to ask.

Donnie: I was not with Leo for a period of time. How did he manage to communicate his plan to use the swords with you here?

That seemed the safest bet. Explains why he didn't know, without having to get into the gory details. And asked the question that was bugging the hell out of him.

April's leg was jiggling, as she typed out her response. The silence of the room seemed very loud, beyond Leo's snuffles.

April: I wasn't with the boys when they did it either, but the three of them reached out to Leo using that Hamato mind meld thing. Mikey managed to get a connection and they made a plan using the swords.

Oh, of course it was a mind meld, the one thing Donnie wouldn't have ever thought to consider. How annoying.

April texted again.

April: Can I ask you a question in return?

If things were normal, he'd tell April she could ask a million questions. The cracked feeling of Leo's shell under his hand told him things were definitely not normal. Instead, he stole Leo's line.

Donnie: You can ask.

Her leg jiggling got more intense. She sighed a little, taking a minute to tap around on her phone, before finally sending her message.

April: You apparently didn't know they'd melded and Leo said the sword was broken. How did you get home?

It was an incredibly valid question, one that he would be asking in their shoes. That did not make it any easier to answer.

Donnie: It is not so complicated. You've seen the sword, have you not? I put it back together. And made an educated guess on what was happening when the sword lit up a second time after Leo's concussed ramblings.

April: I did see the sword. How did you fix it? How did you open the portal on the other side?

Donnie: That's three questions.

His sister sighed louder.

April: I'm sorry. My own curiosity shouldn't go above your comfort.

Donnie made a face. He fussed with the blanket around Leo again, inspecting the small amount of his hidden face he could see for any creases of wakefulness. The soft cot was such a contrast to the frosted and uncomfortable cave -- it was so clearly tempting him to go to sleep too.

He wouldn't, though. Not when he told Leo he could handle it. Even as the haze of painkillers withdrew just enough to remind him of all the shrouded things just behind that wall. His throat was hard to forget, as every breath and every swallow reminded him, but he was beginning to remember his rebroken ribs, his slashed shell, and his punctured leg. He was especially curious about the leg, as that was the injury he'd had the longest and had been potentially attempting to get infected.

It was nearly impossible to tell if he still had a fever, as they'd gone from far too cold to the warmth swallowing and a tuck of a heated blanket still against Leo's side, as he'd been the one brumating. It transferred a lot of heat Donnie's way, because they intersected in multiple places. Especially since Leo's arm was very firmly around his middle, holding him in place.

He supposed he could ask. It would be an obvious deflection, but he just didn't know what to say to April. It wasn't as if it was a secret or anything, he just... he did what he had to do. He got them out of there. Did it matter now?

Donnie: Did they say if my leg was infected?

Watching April out of his peripherals, she looked a little wondering as she replied.

April: Casey said he's a bit concerned and we're watching it, but the anti-biotics they've got you on now should help.

Donnie: Can you clarify if that means yes?

April: I'm not sure. Do you want me to text Casey and ask?

Did it matter now? They had anti-biotics and clean bandages. Ah, but his insatiable curiosity.

Donnie: If you could.

Some tapping, then a longer wait. Donnie flexed his toes and tried to decide if he could feel infection. He could definitely feel the ankle brace. Man, how many times had he walked on that? There was an icy doubt that maybe he'd f*cked it up beyond repair -- the long term hadn't seemed so important, when the short-term had been so overwhelming.

A ping. He clicked on the screenshot April sent, of a text exchange with Casey. He had a hockey stick emoji next to his name.

April: Donnie is asking if his leg is infected?

Casey: Short answer is yes. The longer answer is yes but not that bad, it could've been a lot worse. That injury looked almost a week old, but it held out really well. The rest of his skin was very dirty, but that wound had been kept quite clean underneath the coverings they'd used. But it had developed some pockets of pus that we drained when we cleaned it. The anti-biotics should be helping, but I wouldn't be surprised if his fever does spike. We should be able to take care of it, if it does.

Donnie felt a little sick. He didn't enjoy the description of pus, and it kinda made him want to vomit to think about that being in his leg. He was at least thankful he'd been unconscious for that part.

He texted April again.

Donnie: Do I have a fever right now?

April: I don't know. Can I come and check?

He fidgeted with his phone. That sick feeling stuck around, heavy and hard to carry.

Donnie: Don't wake him.

April: Who do you take me for?

Donnie exhaled shakily. When April put her phone in her pocket and approached, he suffocated the flinch so much that it practically made a new one.

April stopped in her tracks. She held up her empty hands. In the dim lamp light, she looked tired and patient.

Donnie breathed. It stung his throat. He waited for April to move again, but she didn't. The knot of tension relaxed a little, and he raised an 'ok' hand.

His sister folded a hand over his forehead, and he gave her a moderately amused look. He finger-spelled 'thermometer' because he didn't know the sign.

April shrugged, and stroked her thumb on his brow line. After a moment, she pulled away and got back her phone to text him again.

April: The numbers on the thermometer mean nothing to me, I just know how warm you guys usually are. You're a bit warmer than that.

Donnie: You just wanted to be sentimental.

April: I missed you two more than anything on this planet. So yeah. I am sentimental.

Yeah. Ouch. Okay. Donnie was aware that they would not have been having fun at home either, wondering what was happening and worrying about them. But it had been so very far removed from his realm of experience, that was already bad enough, and there just wasn't room in his head for anyone else's feelings because he had no room for his own.

In another world, the dance here was different. He would scoot over to make room to share the double cot with April and they could watch YouTube videos while Leo slept.

But not here. Donnie didn't know what he was doing anymore, caught up in all the life or death decisions, and he couldn't seem to stop himself from pushing away the help now that he had it. He wasn't useless anymore, he was a geometric purple bubble, he was capable of protecting his twin. And he would do it, with everything he had.

Donnie gave April the only truth that could break through the complicated wall of emotions that was making everything so hard, and he signed, 'I love you.'

April blinked quick, and kept a lid on her own emotions. She signed back, no hesitation, 'I love you too.'

Then Donnie put his phone aside again, and looked away, fussing with the blanket over Leo's shoulders once again as he snuffled closer. And after a moment, April took the hint, and quietly slid back across the room to sit. Giving them lots of space.

He returned to staring at the wall for a while, letting his thoughts run in circles.

April shifted, glancing over at him. Then his phone vibrated on the bedside table.

Donnie wanted to be petty and ignore it, as he was obviously engaged in something very important right now. But ignoring his sister never boded well in the long term, and he begrudgingly grabbed it again. There were more notifications that had accumulated as he stared at the wall and he dismissed them all without a second thought, going right to his text string with April.

April: You could sleep too, bubs. I'm here and I'm watching.

It should've been enough. Donnie wished it was enough, and he felt that continued terribleness that it wasn't. Now that he knew he had a fever, that definitely was contributing to the whole thing –- he used to call it his 'everything-is-all-wrong' feeling. Directionless and pervasive. And it happened a lot when he was sick growing up.

He also hated that apparently the twins were obvious enough in what they were doing that April noticed. Not that he thought they were being subtle or anything, it was more that realization of being perceived even when he didn’t want to be.

Donnie was frustrated with himself, that he had wanted to come home so badly and now he wasn’t enjoying a single thing about it. That frustration boiled over hot with the everything-is-all-wrong feeling, and, and —

The panic surfaced and closed his throat which wasn’t great considering how hard breathing was in the first place. He couldn't go to sleep, he loved April and he knew he was home but he couldn't -- he just couldn't.

"I'm coming up on your left here, D." April mumbled, getting closer and looking extremely worried. "Hey, do you wanna breathe with me? You've got this."

She did a big exaggerated inhale. He couldn't, he just -- he was wound up in a big knot, impossible to untangle, and he shook his head to the ripple of agony of moving his neck. His breath was coming in gasps.

"Can I--?" April reached for him, and Donnie was immediately shaking his head a second time, exploding with fire ants over every inch of skin. The rocket of agony in his throat felt like tearing him apart, and the whistle of air was too thin.

April tucked her hand away, along with the miserable, dejected expression. She said, calm, "Everything's okay. Take a slow breath, okay?"

Nope. Wasn't going to happen. The urge to cough was stronger. It burst past like a shotgun blast, and the misery of the fact that Leo immediately stirred, blindly reaching for Donnie before he'd even lifted his face from where he was hiding in the blankets.

"Hey." Leo's voice cackled in sleep, rough and exhausted, but he caught Donnie's fingers with his own and squeezed. He looked up, eyes barely open, and continued, "You're okay. With me."

A big breath. Leo didn't even flinch when the motion must've disturbed his own broken ribs, that barely-awake expression combined with bleary concussion.

Donnie struggled through the sudden coughs, taking a breath with Leo. Because he could still breathe, despite how much it felt like he couldn't. Wheezing and reflexively squeezing Leo's fingers over and over, instead of the stim he wanted which was to bash his head against a wall until his thoughts made sense.

Leo sighed. "What are you freaking out over, stupid? We're fine. We're home."

That was just it. There was a small stab of betrayal that Leo didn't get it, and he flashed those hurt eyes at his brother.

Except when Leo looked up at him, there was a reflected misery. And he cleared his throat, and said, "Hey Apes, do you mind giving us a minute?"

There was an incredibly long hesitation. It seemed like April actually might deny the request. But Donnie's ragged breath filled the room, catching the edge of a cough occasionally.

"Alright." April said, with a tone that said she was only doing this because she loved them very much and if they made her regret it she'd kill them in cold blood except not really she'd just be super annoyed. She left the med bay, shutting the door behind her.

"I've got you." Leo shuffled up, octopus arms hugging him tight as if neither of them were injured. It pushed on bruises and broken bones but it did not matter, not in the slightest. He finally had what he wanted -- Leo, and no audience. No performance expected from Donnie and none given by Leo.

The sharp quick whistle-whistle of Donnie's pinhole throat echoed. If it wasn't for the gentle flowing oxygen, he wasn't sure if he'd even have enough air in his lungs to function. Leo reminded him, "Gotta breathe slower, dude."

As if Donnie didn't know that. He rasped, "What an innovative idea," and then dissolved into coughs again.

"What part of 'don't talk' is hard for you?" Leo complained, rubbing his shell gently.

Donnie managed to raise an eyebrow through his watering eyes to communicate, the part where I can't talk.

Everything wobbled inside him at top speed. He choked on emotion and tried to get it out by stimming -- hands flapping and rocking -- but it didn't seem to help.

"I know, I know." Leo commiserated, leaning in closer, clearing some of the sleep from his voice. "It's a lot. There's a lot going on. It's okay."

It wasn't okay. They were both so hurt and yeah they had painkillers now, but underneath the bandages it hadn't gone away. They were home and everything was different and weird and he didn't know how to behave and --

A sob tore through his chest, overwhelmed and overstimulated. He hated that he woke Leo up for his panic attack. He hated that he was so glad Leo was awake and helping him.

Leo gently rubbed his shell, continuing to do large, demonstrative breaths. His eyes got unfocused and vague, foggy with pain and exhaustion, but he didn't stop the round cycle of breathing. Eventually, Donnie's lungs listened and synced, slowing down from the racehorse.

On the bedside table, Donnie's phone vibrated. Leo blinked rapidly and reached over to grab it, squinting at the light of it as soon as it turned on. "What's your passcode?"

Donnie usually opened it with biometrics, he didn't often have to manually input it. He leaned back far enough to sign, a splayed hand moving sideways over his face and closing. 'Guess.'

Leo guessed and got it correct on the first try. A smug little grin flashed, then melted into a grimace when he opened the messages. He said, "April wants to know if someone can come back in."

Donnie shook his fist 'no' immediately. Without even considering it. He liked this better. It was selfish and stupid. He didn't know how to be anything else right now.

"You don't have to talk to them." Leo ran his knuckles along the edge of Donnie's shell, in a predictable pattern. "But they're worried about us. It's not fair to--"

"I know it's not fair." Donnie crackled out, pushing at Leo to let him go, fractured with that same betrayed emotion. He thought Leo got it, that they were on the same page. "I know, I know, I do."

Hot, frustrated tears stung the corner of his eyes and he didn't dare blink in case it made them fall.

Leo raised his hands -- one bruised, one casted -- looking innocent, swaying a little. "Hey, your throat--"

Donnie hand-chopped him to stop talking, signed with fierce emphasis, 'Listen to me then.'

"Okay. Okay. I'm listening." Leo said, earnest. It was a show that Donnie knew was a show, but it was fine. It was acceptable.

Except Donnie didn't know how to say it. That he didn't want his family around? He did. Logically. Just emotionally he couldn't handle it. A blink tipped the tears over the edge and Donnie miserably covered his face with both hands instead of answering.

"I hear you." Leo said, as if Donnie had spoken, and shuffled forward to gather Donnie in his arms. His forehead thudded against Leo's plastron, right next to the long claw mark chip. He shuddered.

"Nothing is going to happen that you can't handle." Leo whispered. "You are such a badass, have I told you that? Thank you for getting us out of there. I don't know how you did it, but I know it couldn't have been easy."

Was it hard? He couldn't even really remember the effort it took. There was no other option in that moment, it could've torn him to shreds and he wouldn't have felt a thing. It had become a numb wall of fuzzy static, a refusal to die when there was still family to fight for.

The same family he couldn't stand to be in the same room as. He felt like if anyone reached out to him that electric wall was going to blast them away, and he just... he was tired and he wanted to rest without expectations. He wanted to let the tension of the last ten days disappear by locking himself in a room and licking his wounds until he could think again.

Leo manoeuvred Donnie to raise his head, the better hand wiping the tears off his cheeks, rearranging the oxygen cannula, then smoothing to feel his forehead. A frown. He said, "I think you're probably not coping very well because of the fever. Let me get Casey in here, we can tweak your meds a bit, see if we can't get that down some more."

Donnie signed weakly, 'You need to sleep.'

'I just did.' Leo signed back, and smiled. Plastic and dazed. He added, out loud, "Thank you for that. Can we let Casey in?"

It hadn't been long enough. Leo was in pain and concussed and hiding it with everything he had -- the only true reprieve he had was rest and Donnie couldn't keep it together long enough to give him that. The frustration bit more hot tears, and he turned away to swipe at it with his wrist alone this time. Agitated. Unsure. He stimmed his hands then dug fingers into his eyes, as if it might push the stupid tears back into his head. Now that he was feeling for it, the burn of it was like a fever. That overstimulated too-much feeling. Everything-is-all-wrong.

"Tello?" Leo requested, smaller. "I can't quite think straight enough right now to give you meds myself, can we let Casey come do it?"

Without moving his hands, Donnie nodded. The bolt of pain in his throat reminding him that he was an idiot.

"Thank you." Leo said quietly. A tap at the phone, then he set it aside again. "I'm right here, okay? I'm not going anywhere. No one is expecting anything from you."

That wasn't true. They missed him, they wanted to interact with him. He knew that.

Except maybe not Casey, who he had little frame of reference for. That didn't help the intrusive, watched sensation -- but at least he didn't think the kid was wanting a hug that Donnie wasn't giving. Casey shuffled in, wearing track pants, a hoodie, and a tired smile. Donnie scrubbed the tears off his face quickly, embarrassed to be caught crying.

"Hey guys." Casey shut the door behind him, the undeniable flash of peeking eyes before it sealed, and crossed the room to the collection of meds. He dragged the tray over to Leo's side of the doubled cot, shuffling the heated blanket still against his bandaged shell to show him the dosages. They decided on something and put it in Donnie's IV.

'Sleep?' Donnie asked.

"Yeah, bud." Leo helped him arrange the pillow so he could get back down on his side, not to aggravate his shell injuries.

'Stay?' Donnie signed, barely able to raise his hands. His eyes were burning with fever and tears.

"Where would I go?" Leo teased, with a tired smile.

Except Donnie gripped his hand tighter, images of waking up alone in a cave flooding into his mind. He flashed panicked eyes at his brother, feeling the trip-up of his heart.

The smile fell like sleet. Leo arranged the blanket over his shoulder, tugging the IV line and the oxygen tubes back into place, then held out his good hand. Donnie gripped it as hard as he could. And shut his eyes.

Casey and Leo mumbled about medical things, background noise, even as the door opened and more voices joined. Donnie wasn't quite asleep, because the panic was thudding his heart too-hard, but he also wasn't terribly awake either with the new flood of drugs in his system.

There was worry in their tones. Donnie wished he could fix it. But he had a strong grip on Leo's hand and all his concentration was on not letting go. The only solace was that Leo seemed just as intent on the same.

Some movement on the cot. Donnie's brow furrowed, and he squeezed Leo's hand. There was a squeeze back. Nothing to worry about. So Donnie didn't, bathed in exhaustion and allowing sleep at last.

It was dark when he woke later. The lamp was shut off, and the flow of oxygen was tickling his throat. Some of the sweep of fever was pushed away and he squinted as his eyes adjusted to the low-lighting.

Someone had joined them on the cot, wormed close to Leo's side. Judging by the smaller limbs clutching him tight, it was Mikey. Leo himself was still holding onto Donnie'd hand, and his eyes were open and staring far away.

An inhale broke past. Donnie withdrew his other hand from the echo of warmth in the blanket and dragged the IV line along as he reached over to touch Leo's face. A mirroring inhale, and it was dim enough that all Donnie saw was the whites of Leo's eyes flash down to his face.

"Hi." Leo greeted, whispering soft in respect for the smaller turtle clinging to him on the other side.

Instead of trying to sign in the dark or get a reprimand for attempting to speak, he pressed his thumb into Leo's cheek, where his dimple might be if he smiled.

"You're good, keep sleeping." Leo replied, low.

Donnie merely pressed harder, pointed.

"It's fine, I've rested lots." Another attempt at a lie, laced in a false promise. "You can't keep your eyes open, D."

That was unfair and true. Donnie wanted Leo to sleep but lacked the power to stay awake long enough to ensure it happened. He let his hand drop, shifting to the back of Leo's neck, running knuckles on the knobs of his spine. Leo shivered and leaned into the touch, but Donnie fell asleep before he found out if it worked.

Someone had untangled him the next time he woke, shifting the injured leg to the other side, getting the hand with the IV pressed to his chest as if it might help his sore ribs breathe. He wasn't holding onto Leo anymore, but his twin was definitely still beside him, the secure weight against his side.

Everything hurt. Sore and hungover with it, eyelashes sticky with sleep. And worse of all, Leo was still up, shifting beside him. It was brighter with the lamp and there was something playing out of a speaker.

Leo had turned, tucking Mikey into his arms as they both watched Bluey set up on the tablet propped up on the bedside table. Leo had his chin resting on the top of Mikey's head, and just barely from this angle Donnie could see that his eyes were half-mast.

"Don's up." Raph's voice said, and he was behind Donnie.

Leo turned his head enough to see. "Feeling okay? How's the fever?"

Donnie was relatively sure his brother hadn't slept nearly enough for someone with a shell cracked like his and a doubled up concussion. He rubbed his eyes before signing, 'Have you slept at all?'

"That wasn't what I asked." Leo said, dry, and Mikey made complaining noises when Leo shifted upwards, tapping pause on their show.

Donnie glared at him in response. And when Leo raised his good hand to try and feel his forehead, Donnie smacked it away, annoyed.

"Jeez, relax." Leo attempted to disarm with a smile. "I slept while you did, okay?"

'Bullsh*t.' Donnie signed, and didn't elaborate. He let his stare do the speaking, to say: the f*ck you did? And left me vulnerable?

Leo's returning gaze was, we're safe, we're home.

Donnie was sharper, like a knife, You didn't. You wouldn't.

A stand off.

"Are you two okay?" Mikey asked, sounding small in a way that he never should despite his size.

Both of them broke off at once, looking in opposite directions. Donnie clenched his hand in his lap and struggled against his frustration with Leo, that he wanted to walk away and he couldn't stand the thought of not having his twin within his line of sight.

Donnie pointed fiercely at Leo. It was his turn.

"f*ck off, Donnie." Leo snapped, irritated. The kind he got when he was way too tired. Bonus points for in pain and concussed and everything else. His sharper stare said to stop having this fight in front of their brothers.

But no one would leave them alone long enough to do anything else, so Donnie responded with an equally pissed off gesture.

"Trust Donnie to wake up swinging." Raph muttered, getting up and approaching. Unfortunately, Donnie hadn't been expecting the motion and flinched.

Leo immediately turned his pissed eyes to Raph. "Dude, give him some space."

Raph raised his hands and didn't come closer. "If you're gonna fight with each other, maybe it might be best to separate for a bit."

Donnie felt a surge of panic, but it was Leo who's hand snapped out and clutched Donnie's wrist like he might vanish. He spat at their oldest brother, "Why don't you mind your own f*cking business, huh?"

"Woah, you guys." Mikey shifted away from the practically feral twins, putting space between them and getting off the cot edge.

Donnie yanked his arm out of Leo's grip so he'd have his 'voice' to sign. He pointed angrily at Leo again, not wanting to concede the point.

"I'm fine." Leo bit back at him.

Donnie raised his fingers and flicked Leo in the middle of his forehead.

His twin clutched his head and hissed immediately, "f*ck, you're such an asshole."

"Alright, alright, that's enough." Raph went around the bed to Leo's side, avoiding touching Donnie entirely but not having any qualms to get his hands on Leo. He tugged the blue turtle onto his cot then separated the two beds again, yanking them apart.

"Hey." Leo snapped.

"You're exhausted." Raph cut him off before he could say anything else nasty. "Shut your stupid eyes for ten minutes and if you can't sleep, then you get up again. Deal?"

Leo's glare could've stripped paint. He angrily pulled the blanket up over his head and hunkered up on his side.

The quiet reigned. And Donnie tried his hardest not to let the remaining two brothers see how he immediately began to shake at Leo no longer being within arm's reach.