Don't Think Twice, It's Alright

by unlaikaly_occurence

Summary:

Leonardo wishes to reunite with his brothers after a terrible future, but is given one last task before he is granted peace.
Leo has spent the past two months rebuilding his home and his family, but one thing is in his way.

A mandatory Future!Leo fic with hopefully enough distinction to be both unique and entertaining! Stay tuned for regular updates, although I can't promise a schedule quite yet!

Chapter 1: Prologue - ronin

The great Master Leonardo always knew he'd go out in a blaze of glory.

 

When he was fifteen, a millennia ago, he dreamed of being the greatest ninja the world had ever seen. He was a wild child, but a true do-gooder, a hero, the next big thing for mutant kind. He burned so brightly he thought that nobody could ever put out his flame. Too brightly, his brothers might have argued.

 

But now, all he is reduced to is a burnt wick snuffed out too soon by his own hubris. There's a sense of pride in it, though, one he couldn't deny, even standing in the ruins of the city he destroyed with his own two hands. Hamato Leonardo was finally meeting his karma, and now, it was all coming back around.

 

Casey, his beloved student, made it through the portal. He was going to save the world, configure time by his own volition, at just sixteen years old. There was no doubt inside Leonardo's mind that the student he has protected and trained since birth would accomplish their goal, just like Michealangelo prophesied all those years ago.

 

So here the Great Leonardo was, no longer fighting off the blazing beams singing off bits of his skin. He could barely even register the harsh neon lights and sounds that invaded every inch of the city he once called his own. Leonardo's ninpo and survival instincts screamed and clawed at his nerves- keep fighting! Don't give up! Survive! Fight! Kill! Survive!- feeding the animalistic impulses that had developed over years of war.

 

Just breathe in, let it be, and let it out, he reminded himself, Michealangelo's voice whispering in his ear. Mikey, his little brother that had exploded into crushed bits of stars and flames before him mere minutes ago. But Leonardo's heart couldn't grieve- not when he would be joining his family so soon. In fact, he could even say that it was soaring.

 

He dropped his swords, the clanking of them against the debris falling on senseless ears. The lasers slashed the air wildly, racing to hit their target- the smallest man in this world. Leonardo hoped to whatever god was out there that he was the last one left on Earth, because he was officially giving up on saving everyone. As gravity and intense heat grabbed at his skin, a small anxiety bubbled up in his stomach.

 

You can rest easy now, The voice of Raph insisted, as he always used to say after a particularly hard day of leading. The hard part is over. Leonardo let his eyes close, the scream of the instincts falling into a hoarse whisper. A sense of peace washed over him, one you might get while drowning or falling through the air.

 

Rest easy. You won't be left behind for much longer. And then he felt weightless.

 

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Leonardo was ready to accept death. He was prepared to fall back into the inky black void, and when his conscience opened up once more, he would finally see his brothers- Mikey, Raph, Donnie - his dad, his sisters- April, Sunita and Cass. They were all waiting for him on the other side of the war.

 

That is what he prepared for. That's what he wanted. He wanted death.

 

So why- why in god's name- did he open his eyes?

 

The silence was static, buzzing at his throbbing head and shivering in time with his trembling limbs. Leonardo's shell was pressed up against the marbled, chipped face of Lady Liberty- her eyes downcast and broken, as if she knew her 'great republic' was now in ruins. Leonardo instantly felt warm tears cake his face.

 

What am I still doing here? This can't be the afterlife from the legends, can it? Where are my brothers? How did the Kraang's laser not kill me?

 

Kraang. Leonardo instantly shot to his feet, prepared to draw his swords. His fingers met humid air. You dropped them when you prepared to meet your demise, genius. He took a swift look to take in his surroundings. What was left of New York was the same obliterated pile of memories and rubble as when Leonardo was last awake.

 

The explosion didn't kill me?

 

'Obviously not, hence why your shell is completely cracked open and you're alive to tell the tale', a voice that sounded suspiciously like Donatello's replied pointedly. The whispers of ghosts was all Leonardo had of his brothers now.

 

The last thing Hamato Leonardo's egotistical, wild heart wanted to do was die peacefully- happily- and he couldn't even do that right.

 

When he attempted to take a step further, his limbs weighed a thousand pounds. Either his vision was blurred, or the whole world was translated into one huge, dehydrated desert fever dream, and mind-Donatello was right- he could feel the sears of cracked carapace even through the adrenaline rush. If that explosion didn't kill him, infection surely would any hour now.

 

The Kraang's lasers were not completely gone, but they were now a few miles from where Leonardo was standing. They completely missed me. I'm alive.

 

'A 1/1000 chance, brother.'

 

"Fuck!" Leonardo caterwauled, his entire body shaking with the newly established injuries. Even his stab wound, long forgotten, throbbed with need for attention. Raph would have smacked him upside the head for using such language out loud. Would have, because he's dead and I'm not.

 

"This is not happening, this is not real, I am dead," Word vomit spilled from his mouth, fingers desperately clawing at his plastron, willing them to pass through his own flesh like a vision. He collapsed to his knees, the tears rushing from his eyes like thousands of escapees.

 

He was supposed to be hugging Mikey, held by Raph, being anywhere near Donnie- he was supposed to be with them. What mistake could I have possibly made this time?! His mind shrieked in octaves his voice couldn't reach. When exhaustion finally seized his body, he fell back on his shell, noticeably splintering it even more. Watching the apocalypse's version of dawn fall over the land, he had already accepted dying of infection right here, under Lady Liberty's watchful, disappointed eyes.

 

'Succumbing to infection is significantly more painful than waiting for the lasers,' mind-Donatello reasoned. Leonardo would sigh if he could. Donnie was always right, even if it bruised the remains of his youthful ego to admit it. So, like many times before, a lethally injured Leonardo, both the greatest ninja the world has ever seen and the most tragic thing to happen to humanity, heaved himself onto his feet and off the battlefield.

 

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This siege was supposed to change everything, Leonardo thought bitterly. Every step was more physical labor than he ever remembers doing, but his self-deprecation would surely keep him sane as he dragged himself off the battlefield.

 

You failed them. And you couldn't even keep your karaoke night promise- the biggest betrayal of all. It didn't take very long for Leonardo to find the former entrance of his resistance's sector of the underground tunneling system- Sector One- as the final fight with the Kraang had happened practically on their front doorstep.

 

Using his full force to pry open the industrial doors, his shell splintered once more- this one by his shoulder area. He coughed through the pain, the cool air of Sector One's "safety net hallway", as Donnie dumbed it down, welcoming him in with a ghostly chill.

 

Come home, it beckoned. Be our leader again, Master Leonardo.

 

"Hello?" His raw voice called out, practically pleading. But there was no response, just a haunting echo. Everyone else was gone- thousands of innocent men, women, children, yokai- all wiped from existence in the blink of an eye. Bile rose in Leonardo's throat.

 

Everyone else got the mercy of dying.

 

He limped along the linoleum hallway, clutching his wounded side like it was the last thing tethering him to this Earth. He passed along rooms- living spaces, training centers, preparation rooms, bedrooms for soldiers and families alike. A certain section of the hallway was littered with toys and books for the children of the apocalypse who had not yet been trained for battle or mysticism.

 

They were gone. Dead. And it was all Leonardo's fault.

 

Sobs began to wrack his body as he wandered the labyrinth, calling out the names of every soldier, every commander, every yokai ally and student of his he could remember. He rattled off their names in a desperate plea for anyone to be alive on this godforsaken planet. Of course he was the only one left, why wouldn't he be? He caused all this pain, suffering, damnation. Now he must wander through the wreckage like a cursed ronin.

 

The floor slowly gained wirey purple stripes, signalling that he was entering Donatello's territory. The medbay was located near the end of the sector, a dimly lit room that reeked of sorrow and sickness. Everyone had been cleared out of this area to contribute in some way to prepare for the siege. Sick, injured people. Leonardo had given that very order. 

 

Although having been touched by many hands since Donatello's, the cabinets of the medbay still retained some structural organization that the turtle had valued so dearly. Leonardo was able to find the gauze and medical tape easily, sitting upon the counter and hunched over himself. The puckering skin practically writhed with pain everytime Leonardo heaved a weary breath, yet he grit his teeth and went on bandaging. The task distracted him, letting his thoughts float away, and he was brought back to performing his same procedure on himself when he had lost his arm- a much more pleasant memory than this one.

 

He thought of Casey, and where the boy must be by now. Please don't grieve, Case, he pleaded with the already hazy memory of the boy. You have much better things to do than mourn a death that didn't happen.

 

As selfish as it was, Leonardo longed for the comfort of his brothers, despite having lost half of them years ago. How dare you, he reprimanded himself, asking for comfort when it's your fault they're dead.

 

I could have been with them if I weren't a failure.

 

Leonardo hastily limped over to one of the beds, the chemically clean hospital scent clinging to the fabric. Laying down on his side to avoid the shooting pain of his cracked shell, he stared off into the distance- at one of the signs Michelangelo had put up for the children of this sector. It was a watercolor painting of a rainbow, the clouds perfectly rounded and blended with the vibrant colors. Thinking nothing, feeling nothing except a heavy weight in his limbs and soul, Leonardo fell asleep.

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No one really talks about how quiet it would be as the last person alive.

 

But Leonardo almost doesn't wish it to be different. Now, he could officially retire as a leader, not worrying about another soul except his own damned one. His father once told him and his brothers of a ronin- a masterless samurai, a godless wanderer who obeyed no one. After a bickering session with Raph that same day, five-year-old Leo had insisted being a ronin must be better than being bossed around by his big brother. Yet now, following no rules except those laid by his ancestors and his own, he wished his big brother was there to tell him what to do. Raph will handle it, he always does! No need to think twice, Raph's got it! Leave it to your long gone, dead big brother to tell you what to do at the end of the world!

 

As the days went on, Leonardo pieced together some semblance of his old routine- early rising, meditation on a hill untouched by Kraang influence, stiff training- spacing out at the wall of weapons and practice dummies-, patrolling, supply runs, more training- sitting in his own classroom, staring at weapons made for children-, patrolling once again, restless sleep. There were no more Sector meetings to attend, no more sparring, no more sparring Casey, no more late nights speaking with Michelangelo, his mind overtaken with mystic and spirits, the line between past and present, magic and science blurred together. It was all so...

 

Lonely.

 

Years of leadership taught him that the true war would always lie between his own eyes, the rest was merely a battle. That fact was more present than ever as Leonardo rotted in his own mind. Phantoms stood at the end of halls and the corners of each room, ghosts whispered jokes into his ear and then whisked themselves away, screaming bloody murder. He almost wished he still had that wistful, unbreably annoying ego of his youth. God, he wasn't scared of anything when he was a teen, was he? He didn't believe in ghosts or apparitions back then. Now, they were his finest company.

 

Every moment, from the second he forced his eyes open to when he collapsed with exhaustion in a random bed, was a hazey, messy, personalized torture. And yet Leonardo knew he deserved this, so he stuck it out. He could cry until every tear had been harshly plucked from his eye, but he didn't allow himself the satisfaction one bit. The longer he went on crying, he went five times longer running through drills, ignoring the pain that plagued every second of his existence. 

 

And Leonardo had accepted another fact- he could not go on living like this. Before he knew it, it had been more than a month since he flung Casey into the past and expected him to fulfill the duty he was prophesied to complete. His injuries did not look like they were getting any better, but they weren't exactly terrible. He wouldn't die of infection- probably? Mikey and Donnie were the medically inclined ones- but he knew it all had to end soon. The Kraang would make another round of lasers around this area any day now, and Leonardo would beat them out there to greet his official last hurrah.

 

It was just what had to be done.

 

It was the night before the scheduled attack. Leonardo found himself in Michelangelo's old dojo. He rarely came in here- Mikey said it disturbed his 'mystic meditation vibes'- but he wasn't exactly here to forbid Leonardo from entering. The initial shock of the room was the candles- wicks a more vibrant orange than Leonardo had ever seen, especially considering they were still burning. They must have been lit over a month and a half ago, and yet they were undisturbed by the carnage that raged around them.

 

It smelled of incense and something faintly burning, a scent Leonardo had always hated. His brother's nunchaku, the original flame-orange mystic ones from when they had first snuck into Baron Draxum's laboratory, were hung on the walls, surrounded by various papers pasted on the walls. Some were artwork created by Michelangelo and his students- mystically inclined youngsters who were able to harness their own family's ninpo or yokai mysticism. Others were scrolls that spirits were able to communicate with using Mikey as a vessel. Others were photos that Leonardo's little brother insisted on taking throughout the years- 'To boost morale!'

 

Leonardo sat- as cross legged as his bulky limbs would allow- on the matt placed where Michelangelo would float. He sat before the altar his brother had built to reinforce his connection to the spirit world. Leonardo had always been slightly jealous of his little brother's rather intense connection with the traditions of one of their fathers, but now he knew he needed to harness the connection more than ever.

 

"I don't know if this will work," Leonardo admitted, his voice tender from lack of use. "But I need you now. Whoever is listening." Preferably my brothers. He let his eyes flutter closed, using one of his fingers to initiate the tapping meditation Michelangelo had taught him years ago.

 

'Center yourself. Open yourself up to the influences of the spirit world. You are a vessel for receiving- but only if you allow yourself to be.'

 

'Sounds like a bunch of superstitious mumbo jumbo,' A less wise version of Leonardo had said.

 

Mikey had just smiled humbly and continued to meditate.

 

He was now open, a vessel for receiving. It had taken a while for Leonardo to be able to see all of the things his brother could see when he closed his eyes, but eventually he got the hang of it. It came more naturally now, especially with the vibrant spiritual connection they now had with this land.

 

Because of the death.

 

Leonardo shook his head and opened his spirit once more. The world around him was a blinding, clean white. Ahead of him, there was a face he believed had long abandoned him.

 

"Karai," He whispered. His ancestors' eyes shone with a vibrant turquoise, a warm smile splayed onto her face.

 

"Leonardo."

 

"I thought you had..."

 

Karai lifted a hand to silence him, orange bolts sparking from her fingertips. "You have lived a thousand lives before this day, but it is not yet time for you to rest." The knot in Leonardo's shoulders dropped in disappointment, the white heaven around them cracking slightly. Karai touched his shoulder, centering him once more. "The Hamato line will die with you in this timeline, but your spirit is not ready to move on. Elsewhere, in a different world, another version of you remains."

 

"In the past?" Leonardo mutters. "Does that mean Casey succeeded?"

 

Karai laughed softly, her face angling down to look into his eyes- into his soul. "Leonardo, you now must face yourself in a battle unlike what you have fought before. You are not the same person, but he, as your counterpart, holds the key to your next challenge."

 

Questions bubbled in his throat, and yet a sense of calm attempted to wash them away. It was serene and almost weightless, like his wounds were stitching themself together. This was the afterlife Leonardo expected. But wait. Karai was giving him instructions. Pay attention, Leo. 

 

"Gram-Gram, can't I just stay here?" He asked brokenly. It was painful and embarrassing in a way, begging his grandmother like a child at nearly forty years old. "I'm tired. I want to be with my brothers. I know that I'm ready." Karai's eyes softened, a gentle hand reached and placed itself on Leonardo's splintered shell.

 

"I know, Leo. But there is a task that only you can complete. One last mission, my forsaken child, and then you shall be granted peace." Leonardo felt his face grow warm as tears flooded it once more. When do tears run out? When you've cried an ocean, when will it be the last drop?

 

Leonardo knew better than to argue with his favorite ancestor, wisdom decorating her face as she floated around the turtle with pure mysticism and otherworldly energy. It gave him a sense of peace, as speaking with her always used to. When he returned her gaze, he found that the volts of electric orange energy sparked with more ferocity.

 

"What is my final task?" He asked, swallowing his exhaustion with newfound power. Karai's eyes scrunched knowingly, somewhat bittersweet. The sparks crackled at Leonardo's damaged skin, tugging at him with increasing brutishness. Leonardo believed she did not hear him. "Gram-Gram? What else do I have to do?"

 

Karai shook her head, silencing him. "Anatawa Hitorijani," she whispered, gentle and breathless all at once.

 

And then, Leonardo found that he once again was falling.

Notes:

I hope you enjoyed chapter one of Don't Think Twice, It's Alright. This fandom and story is very precious to my heart, so I hope others will love it as much as I do.
Next time around, we'll be checking in with past- present? current? you decide!- Leo and see how he has been handling things ever since the invasion!
Peace!

Chapter 2: chapter one - under pressure

Summary:

Leo is finally semi healed and back in business, baby! With Raph out of commission and his father slowing down, as well as a new sense of responsibility on his shoulders, the second oldest Hamato son is the head honcho, the top of the food chain! His biggest concern is making sure his brothers are alright, and satying that way. He'd hate to let everyone down again, right?

 

"Easy does it, Leo. You've got this. Concentrate."

 

Aching burned in Leo's arms with strain. Every muscle pulsed, and he could feel a sheen of sweat building on his shoulders, pricking annoyance and irritating every injury on his body- but he didn't care. A leader pushes through. Leo pushes through. He took a deep breath, his chest heaving with effort.

 

"The whole world is counting on you...to bring home the bacon!"

 

Plastic bags dug into his wrists and fingers as Leo scaled the walls of the Red Eye Bodega . Pushing himself up with what can only be described as epic ninjacity and strength of will , he landed gracefully- or, as graceful as you could with a recovering broken everything- on one leg, satisfaction coursing through his veins. "Aaaaaand land safely!” He announced, stumbling on a shaking leg and catching himself on the cold concrete roof. He exclaimed, voice meeting the inky black void and distant city lights.

 

“Leo! Leo! Leo!" He cheered for himself, echoing a breathy noise mimicking a crowd cheering into a cupped hand. He pumped a weak fist up, weighed down by the loftiness of grocery bags. Leo fumbled forward, carefully hopping onto the next roof. "They said sneaking out under Dr. Donnie's watchful eye couldn't be done, but look who did it! Moi!" He tumbled onto the next roof, careful to keep all of the goods inside the bags.

 

Red's was one of the only spots on this block that stayed open during the- incident cleanup, a rather sad notion, due to it being a family business. Considering this particular part of the city was mostly closed down due to being the heart of the attack, Leo was surprised they were still open at all. But it was a safe spot for the turtles, as the closing cashier was an ancient nearsighted lady who couldn't tell a penny from a quarter. The  perfect spot for Leon to snag some treats for the fam!

 

The early crispness of September air whipped around him as he carefully leapt from building to building. He stopped abruptly at the edge of an apartment complex, breath coming out in pathetic, burning puffs. Pain gnawed at Leo’s carapace as he leaned to rest his elbows on the edge. Heh, not as spry as I used to be. Overlooking the city, a familiar sense of pride ebbed the pain, even if just for a moment. The concrete jungle’s lights went on for miles, the sight warming Leo’s heart. Even the cabbies laying on their horns this late into the night brought Leo a sense of familiarity as he leaned on the ledge .

 

New York City was being built from the ground up. Construction workers and building frames stood where skyscrapers used to tower. Sections of the city were blocked off, manuvering traffic in an akward direction. A small price to pay for stopping the apocalypse, in Leo’s expert opinion. In just a month, the city had been doing quite well for itself. Trucks were rolling through nonstop, construction piecing the debris of destruction slowly yet surely. Progress was being made, and that’s what mattered. Leo could sleep at night- or, he would if Leo could sleep-  knowing that New York would live to see a brighter tomorrow.

 

But as much as Leo loved New York, he loved his family even more, and that’s who needed him right now.

 

Taking a readying breath, Leo soared over the edge in a swift leap and followed his usual route home. It was freeing- feeling the breeze on his skin, mask billowing through the air, stretching out the muscles he had neglected for the past few weeks. Even with the stinging pain, he felt good. Wild. Free. It’s been awhile since he felt like that. Despite the Pizza Supreme-forsaken knee brace the medics of the family made him wear, he felt like he could fly.

 

He turned the block and thumped along the buildings when Metro Tower caught his eye. Out of all of the buildings decimated in the invasion, Metro Tower was hurting the most- barely even there at all. Part of that was because Leo and his brothers used it as collateral damage during their sky-fight. And part of it was because it was the prime hub for the-

 

Kraang.

 

Kraang.

 

It had almost been a month since the invasion.

 

The thought stole the breath from Leo's lungs as he paused mid-jump, falling like Icarus into the nearest ally. "Ahhh-!" Leo realized his mistake as his fingers met cold, cutting air. Landing flat on the dusty ground, a splintering shot of pain seared through his shell. He sucked in a harsh breath, pretending the padding of the wrap around his torso cushioned his landing as he made impact.

 

“Ohhhhh boyyyyy,” Leo huffed, breathless, schooching back against the brick wall for support. Bad thoughts, bad thoughts. That is not what we need right now, Leon. He shook out all of his limbs and stretched his shoulder, making sure nothing else got broken in the fall. He wiggled his leg supported by the metal brace, his knee making a soft pop as he flexed. Well, it didn’t exactly feel worse than before, but it sure as hell didn’t feel great. Dr. Donnie is gonna be thrilled.

 

But his biggest concern- the goods, still locked in a tight grip in his fingers, came out unscathed. Whew. Shaking out his head so hard he felt his brain rattle, he pushed himself up. His knee felt tender and his shell lightly throbbed. “Pull it together, Leo.”

 

Leo swallowed the pain and remaining thoughts with a shudder, bracing himself to scale the wall once more. Every inch of his shell stung, but he powered through, regaining his momentum.

 

Once he spotted the familiar subway station that led to his family’s residence, he activated his favorite ninjutsu technique-

 

“Blindspot,” He whispered, smirking to himself.

 

Slipping into the shadows, he made his way down into the labyrinth that is the subway station. He still wasn’t used to the lack of people in the usually bustling subway, despite it being evening. Less people ventured out of their homes late at night anymore, especially with the construction and stunted desire for transportation around the city. Leo fluidly kept out of sight of the straggling humans, the roar of the subway shaking the ground below him. Diving into the shadows against the wall, Leo caught the tail end of the subway just in time. He latched onto the metal bar and flung himself onto the car, whisked away in a whirlwind of musky underground air and train exhaust.

 

Enshrouded in darkness, Leo let himself catch his breath and stretch out the sore muscles again. The cracks under his bandages pulsed from the effort, a new one bound to splinter when he replaced them after his miraculous tumble. But he had no time to count scars- he had a family to take care of. He grumbled under his breath, preparing to make his final leap of the night.

 

With a somersault, Leo launched himself onto the platform, landing in a crouch. Instantly, he saw the warm glow coming from the abandoned station, decorated with fairy lights and candles. In the past week or so, the family found it in themselves to make corrections to the mild damages their home endured. It was actually Cassandra who did most of the heavy lifting with Raph being out of commission, and Mikey adding his usual artistic touches where he felt necessary. It was calmingly intoxicating, beckoning Leo to follow with the promise of warmth. His family was down there. He loved his family. It was all worth it because of his family-

 

Keep your cool, Leon, He reminded himself as he popped his shoulder into place. With a certain gusto he had lost over the weeks, Leo pushed past the busted turnstile, hiking the grocery bags up to his elbows. He chuckled to himself. “That’s how we do it Leon Style, slipping on out and right back i-”

 

BZZZT! ALERT! ALERT! INFILTRATION IN ENTRANCE A-1!

 

“Ohhhh boy, someone’s busted,” Leo murmured. He slammed his palm against the beeping red button, silencing the alarm almost as soon as it piped up. Donnie must have installed another new security measure.

 

Leo dropped the grocery bags at the bottom of the first flight of stairs, taking in the peaceful light of the common room. Overhead lights illuminated the area softly- the usual amount of light allowed in the lair these days. Too much bugs Raph’s eye. There was a mighty brick pillar in the center of the space, the surrounding hallways going off into four separate sections. Wooden planks climbed the pillar, leading into the dojo. From one of the rooms, Leo could hear a TV show quietly buzzing, as well the soft, huffy breathing that was unmistakably Casey Jones: The Sequel.

 

Peeking into that room, he could see the dark haired teenager face-down on the couch, sleeping soundly, one arm hanging over the side and brushing the floor. The guy slept so quietly, Leo almost wouldn’t have heard him if the tv wasn't on a level two volume. Leo chuckled, pulling a navy blanket off the floor and pulling it up over him.

 

Although he couldn’t see his face, Leo had it practically memorized. Every bruise, every knick, every scar and worry line was engraved into Leo’s memory, as he had seen an awful lot of the teenager lately. They had taken in Casey with open arms as soon as they got back to the base after that day. Since then, he took physical healing- as well as the family’s constant harassment and Donnie’s endless tests- like a champ. The kid was quiet, reserved, and rarely spoke to Leo after he made his official exit from med bay. Leo wasn’t particularly in a hurry to face the teenager either after the events that had ensued that day, because it was too impossibly awkward. 'Hey, I asked you to practically kill me and brought up some of your trauma. Friends? Nonetheless, the Hamatos weren’t known for their inhospitality, and an ally from the future and a broken timeline was no different.

 

Plus, Leo found that despite his avoidance to talk to him, he cared about Casey, almost as much as he cared about his other family. Sure, it was weird- the far-off, mourning look the warrior would get when Leo caught him staring, but it’s not like the kid could help it. Leo didn’t exactly feel a paternal pull towards him- had he been a father figure to Casey in another life?- but a feeling was there and it was strong. Maybe it was a new, responsible, man-of-the-house thing.

 

“Hiya, Case,” He found himself saying softly in an attempt to not wake the easily startled teenager up. Turning, Leo clenched his fists to his sides and prepared for the-

 

“Leonardo.”

 

As soon as he exited the lounge, a frigid voice called out for him. In the doorway of the section that led to their bedrooms stood two pissed off turtles.

 

“Donnie, Mikey, my favorite little brothers,” Leo said, offering a fist bump for the youngest. Mikey’s eyes went wide.

 

“We’re your favorite little brothers?” He asked, eyes welling up. Supreme in the sky, this kid is soft. Leo chuckled and crouched down, beginning to unpack the bags of goods.

 

Donnie pinched his nasal bridge, shaking his head. “Mikey, we’re his only little brothers.” The ‘hard-as-nails’ softshell straightened up, pointing an accusatory finger in Leo’s face. “You, sir, are in major trouble! Where the hell have you been? We’ve been worried sick!”

 

“Someone’s inheriting Raph's mother-hen mode,” Leo smiled smugly and shrugged. “I just stopped by Red Eye’s. I left a Post-It note in your lab telling you where I was going!”

 

“In my lab, where I have thousands of notes to myself scattered about the place?” Donnie shook his head again, facepalming. “Leo, we’ve been over this! You need to verbally communicate-”

 

Leo smirked, grabbing a bag of chips and shoving them at Donnie’s carapace.

“Chillax, I was only gone for an hour! Here, your favorite.” Donnie spluttered, taking the chips and tossing them on the dining room table. Balancing snacks on his arms, Leo made his way to the cabinets.

 

“Dee’s right, Leo. It’s not a good idea for you to be out on your own right now,” Mikey, ever the peacekeeper, argued. Leo ignored his little brother’s worries, stocking up the covers and humming a tune under his breath. 

 

“I was only out an hour,” Leo reiterated. “Plus, I was totally fine! Mrs. Rivera didn’t even see me-”

 

“I’m not talking about Mrs. Rivera!” Donnie snapped. “You left the med bay against my orders, and you left the lair against dad’s. You’re still severely injured and far from ready to be out on your own.”

 

Leo peeked behind him, sending his brother a sly look. “What injuries could you possibly be speaking of?”

 

Donnie crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow. “Would you like that in alphabetical order or from most to least lethal?”

 

Leo’s raised arm stopped in place. Memories of the past few weeks creeped up his neck- a cramped med bay, a suffocating lair, eyes constantly on him, watching, studying, worrying- “Okay, Doctor-tello. Let me diagnose you with something. Your first symptom appears to be forgetting who the older twin is.” Leo spun around and seized Donnie by his bandana, capturing him in a headlock.

 

“Ow- Nardo!” Donnie attempted to fight back, his goggles bumped and tilting off his head. “Cut it out!”

 

“Would a ‘severely injured’ turtle be able to do this-” In an attempt to flip his brother over, Leo twisted his back. Instantly, stabbing pain shot through Leo’s shell, recognizably the crack from his fall earlier, with an undeniable crrk! . His grip on Donnie loosed as he froze up, sucking in air through his teeth harshly.

 

Mikey and Donnie stared at him with astonishment, the softshell instantly clicking his goggles into place to run a scan. His twin shook his head, rubbing his temples. 

 

“Nardo, did something happen while you were out?” Donnie’s eyes fell from their usually narrowed fashion. They became hard and glossy, like a million what-ifs were racing through his mind. His Sharpied-on brows reached his forehead, signaling that he truly suspected something was off. He was worried. Leo worried his family.

 

How are they even still worried about me? Leo saw as Mikey scratched up and down his arms anxiously, covered from fingertips to shoulder blades in bandages. He had a nervous habit of playing with the wrappings, as well as picking at the flakes of bright orange skin that fell off when his shoulders were exposed. He saw Donnie shift under his battle shell, wiry pink scars peaking out onto his shoulders. His twin hadn’t taken off his battle shell in weeks- don’t think Leo didn’t notice. How can they even think about me right now?

 

And Leo was fine. Sure, his shell, knee, and shoulder hurt like a bitch, but that wasn’t something a little fresh air and exercise couldn’t fix. His concussion had already fizzled away, and the broken ribs and fractured limbs were healing ‘exceptionally’ - Draxum’s words- and yet Donnie kept him locked in the med bay for so long that he had to be better by now. Any longer and it would’ve just been selfish. 

 

So yeah, Leo was fine.

 

“ Pssh, you worry too much, hermano,” Leo insisted. He grabbed the pack of sour candy bought specially for his older brother, slinking between B-team. “Now, leave me be, I’m going to check on Raph.”

 

“Leo, I need to check your-”

 

“And quiet down! Casey’s trying to sleep!” Leo began climbing the wooden planks, ignoring the calls for him. Once he was out of their sight, it felt like a weight had been lifted off his chest, like he could breathe again without that feeling of eyes on him- away from eyes on every inch of him that he wanted to hide.

 

It was pretty hard to avoid that kind of thing anymore. The family saw a new side of himself during that day, when he did that thing. Leo carefully toed everything he said during his time in the med bay, in fear of it being taken the wrong way. Any slip-up could cause a crash out from any of his brothers on the dangers of self-sacrifice and putting yourself in intentional dangerous situations. 

 

Obviously those two have never been leaders. They don’t know the sacrifices it takes.

 

A leader didn’t need his team worrying about him every second of every day. That’s why Leo made his grand escape from the med bay- he can’t stand to be psychoanalyzed by them. They just didn’t get it. And on Leo’s watch, they would never have to. None of them would ever have to face something like that again, because he was the leader now, and he was better than before. He’s responsible for keeping his family safe, because if he didn’t they could all end up-

 

Pushing up the wooden hatch that led to the dojo, Leo was sure to quiet his thoughts and movements. All of the workout equipment had been pushed against the walls, a ring of candles surrounding a figure sitting in the darkness. The weak wicks illuminated patches of green scales and a frayed red bandana.

 

Leo shut the hatch, walking on the tips of his toes to sit next to his brother. Raph had his eyes shut from the side Leo could see from, brow furrowed into his classic chasm. His snaggletooth stuck out over his lip, pinched with concentration. His chest rose and fell with a practiced sort of calm, hands resting on his knees. Leo sat criss-cross next to his brother, avoiding his right side. He patiently waited for Raph to exit a breath through his nose and blink his eyes open, struggling to focus.

 

“Hey, big bro,” Leo said, more fondly than he could control. His heart swelled with affection and admiration as recogniztion crossed Raph's eyes. Leo tossed the fizzy candy into Raph’s lap, lightly punching his left shoulder. “Bought those for you. Don’t worry, I won’t make you owe me, but just this once.”

 

Raph smiled, his viewable eye still blurry from the meditation. “Thanks, Leo.”

 

His brother wasn’t much of a talker anymore, which Leo was almost glad for, especially considering how Raph would react if he put two and two together. Raph’s brain had a tendency to lag over the past few weeks, but Leo and the rest of the family were learning to understand it. Sometimes he got angry with the fog, a rush of emotions racing behind his eyes, but he had yet to lash out at the family. Leo almost wished his brother had the heart to be mean about it, but Raph was usually pretty zen after mediation.

 

He watched as his big brother tore into the candy, grateful for anything from the outside world. Leo tried to swallow the lump in his throat, the subject he so terribly wanted to dance around fresh on his mind every time he entered this room.

 

“Any word from Gram-Gram yet?” He found the courage to ask. Stopping mid chew, Raph shook his head, not meeting Leo’s gaze. His shoulders visibly cinched up, Leo’s heart panging with guilt.

 

The Hamato ancestors had gone radio silent since that day, which majorly sucked, considering they all could use some Gram-Gram wisdom right about now. Raph had taken on the responsibility of attempting to rekindle the connection when Splinter wasn’t up for it. Every day, the eldest would lock himself in the dojo in a state of mediation, attempting to find their family again. Splinter had attempted to contact them when they first got back to the lair, looking for guidance. He stayed in his room for hours, only to be met with silence. It wasn’t much of a shock, the family had overexerted both their ninpo and mystic abilities that day. The ancestors were probably exhausted from watching over their mutant descendants, so Leo couldn’t say he blamed them. Donnie wasn’t worried, so the rest of the family wasn’t.

 

Well, Leo was, but he was a lot more worried about tons of things he used to not be.

 

“Don’t worry, big man,” Leo said, leaning against his brother’s spiky arm. “You’ll find them eventually. Karai will come back to us, she always does. Just keep trying, okay?” Raph smiled wide, his eyes gaining a shiny glaze.

 

“Thanks for looking after us, Leo,” Raph said, leaning back against the smaller turtle. “You’re doing a great job.”

 

Unease prickled at Leo’s arms at the compliment. It really should have felt good- his oldest brother and former harshest critic praising him like this. Leo wishes he could say he ever had a desire to please his siblings, but that had only developed recently. Now, the validation just felt like an awkward attempt at saying, ‘You’re doing your job the way it was intended all along, excellent work! You’ve done the bare minimum! Great job at finally doing something right.’

 

Raph turned his head to meet Leo’s gaze, and instantly a queasy feeling sloshed around the slider’s stomach. What met him was an inky black eye patch that wrapped itself around Raph’s right side. Leo knew all too well what was under it. A cloudy, light pink eye, surrounded by a shredded red mask. A Kraang eye. And a solid, perfectly circular hole on the same side of his shell. A constant reminder of a pain he had caused his big brother. 

 

There it is again. That funny feeling.

 

“Yeah, well, it isn’t about me,” Leo found himself saying before he could register it. Face man improv, bingo. Still got it. “Somebody’s gotta be the responsible one while you heal up. How have your headaches been today?”

 

“Let’s go, Mikey!” A harsh voice called from downstairs.

 

“I said no!” Another shot back. Raph winced, rubbing a palm along his forehead.

 

“Which ones?” He asked, and Leo could tell he was serious.

 

The hatch slammed open, a vigorous Donnie jumping up and sitting on the edge. “Leo! Would you please talk some sense into our dearest Angelo,” He insisted through gritted teeth.

 

Leo huffed, rolling his eyes. “Mikey, use the hydrogen peroxide.” Yep, this was an everyday occurrence in the Hamato household.

 

“I’m wrapping it!” Mikey called, his voice distant. It being the mystic wounds along his arms.

 

“You just got done wrapping it. It needs to breathe,” Leo argued, careful not to raise his voice too much. It’s not like Leo could fully blame his little brother- cleaning the wounds scattered all over his arms had to be a pain in the ass. But the same little brother who threw an entire New York building and harnessed the power of portaling with his own hands in the same day needed to be held to different standards.

 

Donnie looked about ready to lose his shit, the bags under his eyes prominent even in the dimly lit room. “Do you want an infection, Micheal?”

 

“It huuuurts,” Mikey whined. “Top ten pains I’ve ever felt, or may Pizza Supreme strike me down!”

 

“I’m gonna strike you down-” Donnie began, before catching himself and taking a steadying breath. “Infections hurt worse than hydrogen peroxide.”

 

“I don’t want it!” Mikey shouted, and Leo felt an amusing callback to the hellish tantrums the box turtle used to throw as a toddler. It felt as if, despite how badly he wanted to be seen as grown, Mikey always resorted back to his youngest child privilege to get what he wanted.

 

Donnie hit the dojo floor with his fist. “Oh, grow up!”

 

Mikey could be heard racing up the stairs, pushing Donnie out of the way. “Leo, tell him to stop bossing me around!”

 

Leo shook his head in annoyance. “Listen to Doctor-tello, Mikey, or else he’ll confine you to the med bay. And we all know Jailor-tello is even worse.” Donnie’s eye twitched in annoyance as he made a lunge for Mikey, and the two went tumbling down the steps, a mess of bickering and tussling limbs.

 

Raph chuckled so hard his shoulders shook, pushing Leo harder than he probably realized. “Jeez, you’re really starting to sound like the older brother.” Leo laughed under his breath, hopefully not giving away how strung out he felt. Raph set a steady hand on his shell, a lot more gentle than he used to be. Leo tensed under it, thankful for the darkness of the room.

 

His brother cleared his throat, moving his hand away and curling it into a ball. “Just remember you don’t have to do it alone, okay? I did that for years and you all helped me realize-”

 

Leo cut him off, hopping onto his feet. “Okay, big bro, no need for the pep talk! You worry too much, I’m fine! I’m the big man of the house now, what more could I want?”

 

Raph’s chasm grew deeper for a split second, words visibly on his lips, before he smiled at his brother. “Okay, Leo.”

 

“Soup’s on!” Mikey called from downstairs, the slight strain proving that Donnie won their previous battle. Leo offered out his hand for his brother, who gratefully accepted and pulled himself up.

 

___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

Things had become more…organized in the Hamato household, to say the least. Back when it was just the Mad Dogs and dad, every day was chaos and every night was fend for yourself. Leo would never acknowledge it outloud, but the way his family lived before was pretty gross, even compared to the sewer right outside their door. But now, it wasn’t just them living here- Casey made his space in the family room, Cassandra crashed here when she wasn’t out completing solo missions, April stayed here some nights due to her dorm room only being a few blocks away, hell, even Draxum would stop by and stay the night every now and then. 

 

For starters, they had a chore chart now. Casey said it was how they kept track of things in their “sector”, which Leo had assumed was their home? A lot of the things Casey said didn’t make sense, which was expected, considering he had been ripped from out of time itself. The teenager went through regular culture shock, amazed at things as simple as taxis or music. All things considered though, he was adjusting pretty well. For the past two weeks, Mikey would assign everyone a task to complete. No more mile high dish piles or floating dust particles. Everything was in its place, presentable even, despite the carnage that had occurred here just a month ago.

 

Another change- meal time was mandatory. That had been Raph’s doing. The incoming apocalypse recovery was just another reason to keep his family under one roof, and absences were not taken lightly. It was obnoxious sometimes, but what- do you expect the family to say no to Raph after what he had been through?

 

Leo sat in his usual spot, at the end of the table next to the head, where Splinter resided and next to Donnie. As his family filed in, he noticed his twin and Casey were missing. Leo could see the anxiety in Raph’s tapping fingers, but didn’t comment on it. He almost didn’t notice Mikey’s looming presence behind him.

 

“Leo, are you sure nothing happened while you were out?” His younger brother whispered, keeping his voice level to avoid alerting Raph. Thankfully, Mikey had learned over the past few years that when Leo said ‘snitches get stitches’, he meant it.

 

“Yeah, why?”

 

Mikey pursed his lips. “You think I can’t tell when something’s bothering you guys?” He motioned at Leo’s bandages. “You’re hunched over more than usual. Plus-” The box turtle swallowed a lump in his throat, his hand scratching subconsciously at his bandages again. “Plus, you’ve just been acting…"

 

Do not worry your little brother.  “Uhm, excuse you, my posture is perfect,” Leo straightened his back, biting back a yelp at the pain. “And I don’t need any of your Doctor Feelings b.s. right now.” Mikey’s eyes became wide and glassy, a telltale sign his feelings were hurt. Guilt bubbled in Leo’s stomach.

 

Nice going, Face Man. Way to smooth the situation over.

 

“Will April be joining us tonight?” The familiar voice of Splinter piped up. Leo saw him struggling to hop up on his chair, only his head visible above their new table. Leo deflated with a relieved huff. Nice save, pops.

 

“Nah, I talked to her on my way…” Leo stopped himself before he could expose his whereabouts. “She’s finishing up exams today, so she’s going right to her dorm.” Raph tensed up, but didn’t speak up. Poor guy was constantly under worry when the whole clan wasn’t under one roof, but with April being a busy college freshman, it was impossible for everyone to stick around 24/7.

 

Suddenly, the fiery whirlwind that is Cassandra Jones barreled in. “ INCOMING!” She shouted, zooming around the table and toppling into Mikey. Several plates went flying from his hands and crashed into the ground, exploding in a fit of glass. If Mikey had ears, they would be bright red and puffing steam.

 

“Cassandra! What did we say about skates in the lair?!” Raph beat Mikey to it, sparing her from a talking-to from Dr. Not-So-Delicate Touch. Cass stopped herself at the counter, picking up the glass shards at the speed of lighting and handing them back to Mikey with a smug smile.

 

“Apologies, orange one!” Cass said-shouted, a habit she could never seem to kick. She rigidly dove into the refrigerator, pulling out a gallon of soda and reaching up to grab glasses.

 

Raph whistled. “Someone’s in the mood to celebrate!”

 

“What’s there to celebrate, Cass?” Leo asked, amused. He had grown fond of the former Foot Clan member over the months. Initially, he had been wary of any possible double-crossing. Don’t get Leo wrong, he loved a classic betrayal, except when it was done on his family. But in the two years since they had kicked the Shredder’s metal ass and she switched sides, Cassandra proved herself extremely loyal to the Hamato clan.

 

It had been easy to see that she was a good kid trapped in a bad situation, especially when she admitted she had been just sixteen during the summoning of Shredder, and her parents were no better than Foot Leader and Brute. But once she officially left her Foot Clan life behind her and left her home for good, she had grown into a feisty yet fiercely loyal member of the Hamato Clan. Splinter even took accountability and opted to mentor her. Now she was eighteen, and proved herself every day in fighting the battles the turtles were recently unequipped for. Leo saw her as an intense but well-meaning older sister.

 

Cass clutched her freshly poured glass, bumping into a fuming Mikey once again. “Have you not heard?! Mini Me applied for his first job today!” Mini Me being Casey Jr., of course.

 

Despite being still a child herself, she took in her son from the future with open arms. It was entertaining how avid she was about being present in his life, even with Cass being anything but the motherly stereotype. As for why Casey felt the need to get a job this soon after the invasion was beyond Leo. Sure, he hadn’t been severely injured in the battle- Donnie had only found a slight sprain in his ankle during his check-up- but c’mon. After spending his entire life living in an apocalyptic wasteland, the kid deserved a break. There was that classic Jones fire behind his eyes, however, despite how stoic he could be. He probably wants to feel useful, or relearn what normalcy means in a non-apocalyptic future.

 

“Good for him,” Leo settled on. He can’t say he’s held a conversation with Casey that included more than three sentences since that day, but he still wishes the kid the best.

 

Cass downed the entire glass of soda in one go, shocking even Raph. She wiped her mouth, slamming the glass back down. “They grow up so fast,” She sniffled, before switching up in her classic fashion, “I AM SO IMMENSELY PROUD OF HIM!”

 

Hunger gnawed at Leo’s stomach as he remembered one of the reasons driving him to go to the bodega in the first place. “Cute moment and all, but can we please dig in? I’m starving.”

 

“Donnie and Casey aren’t here yet,” Raph argued, pushing the plate Mikey set in front of him to the side. Splinter eyed him and Leo, one eyebrow quirked.

 

“Relax, Raph, they’ll be here any second,” Leo insisted. He reached for the bowl in the center of the table. “Dibs on Donnie’s portion of rice!” He ignored the chorus of ‘Really, Leo?’, satisfied with the acknowledgement from his family.

 

In times like these, Leo did feel a bit normal. When his family was talking about their day, bickering, laughing, joking- it was loud enough to cloud Leo’s thoughts for the time being. He could go on autopilot and ignore the pain burning all over himself and the pit of shame and weirdness that had settled in his stomach. Trapped in the med bay, he didn’t get the happy buzz that turning the on switch on gave him. He didn’t constantly have to face himself or hear himself talk in his brain. So Donnie’s scoldings were worth it in the end, because he got to be here. Leo felt like he belonged here, not quite at the head of the table but still in control. It numbed that weirdness. Please, anything but the weirdness.

 

Leo was mostly done with his dinner when the family heard stomping coming from the section that led to their rooms, along with huffing and muttering. Immediately, a disheveled Donnie came bursting out, hands on his knees from exhaustion. 

 

“ Casey- out- fainted- didn’t know what to do- help?”

 

“Jeez, Don! What’s wrong?” Raph was immediately on his feet, hands on his brother's shoulders. “Did you run all the way here from your lab?” Leo joined them, eyes scanning wildly. His softshell brother couldn't answer between harsh gasps and curling fingers digging into his own chest. Donnie didn’t get this worked up when someone simply fainted. Whatever spooked him, spooked him. But the family also knew that getting the softshell to slow himself down when he was like this was nearly impossible. Leo gently pushed Raph to the side, trying to get his brother’s attention.

 

“Donnie, you gotta calm down. We can’t understand unless you do. Take a second to breathe.” Subconsciously, Leo felt himself regulate his own breathing. In for five, out for five. Donnie had been getting worked up like this a lot more than usual, and Leo knew it was because of the stress of acting as the team medic. What better way to help than to use his own tactics on him?

 

Donnie’s breathing slowed, the strung out look in his eye dying down slightly. He looked up, nails digging into Leo’s outstretched arm.

 

“Something is wrong.”

Notes:

Hello!
So first off, thank you to my supports for the prologue! I am very proud of this writing and the direction I am taking the story, so I hope everyone enjoys it and sticks around!
Secondly, this fic is going to be the first that I am going to have a posting schedule for. So, if all goes accoording to plan, there should be a new chapter on the first or last day of every month. If that won't be the case, I'll be sure to communicate that! I don't want to promise too many chapters per month as I have another ongoing fic that I'd like to keep giving love to!
Thank you all for tuning it and I hope you enjoyed! Stay tuned for the next chapter where we check in on Casey Jones: The Sequel!
Peace out!

Chapter 3: chapter two - a calming notion

Summary:

Casey Jr.- affectionately nicknamed CJ by his new Hamatos- is doing alright for himself. Sure, he doesn’t understand the new world he was so suddenly dropped and he feels like an outsider, but that’s normal, right? He feels ready to start living the life of a normal teenager to contribute to his new family. But after applying for a job, he is struck with a vision that alters the state of his life.

Notes:

For reference, Cass is always going to mean Cassandra aka Foot Recruit. CJ is always refering to Casey Jones from the future. But! If I do use the name Casey, it's always going to be in reference to CJ, not Cass. Got it? Glorious.

Seeing New York City as not an apocalyptic wasteland will never be not weird . And Casey Jones Junior was raised by mutant turtles, so he knew about weird. Weird was his life! Weird was his normal.

 

But none of this fits into his “normal”. The roars of monsters from above being replaced by beeping electronic billboards and car horns. A hellish landscape of debris and the remains of civilization were replaced by towering skyscrapers, a word that made Casey nauseous when he first heard it. The thought of anything looming in the sky put a pit in his stomach. It planted his feet into the ground, stuck frozen in time.

 

And oh boy was he stuck.

 

Stuck in traffic.

 

CJ’s temper burned under his skin as he surveyed the area, hoards of people walking in every which direction. The colors of shirts and hair blurred as shoulders dodged each other, heavy chattering hanging the streets. The crowd threatened to swallow CJ up in a mess of humans decorated in the light of the golden hour. It reminded him of his first time in past New York. Not pleasant.

 

His brain tried to map out possible escape routes- which, considering everything, he should be excellent at. But an entire life in purgatory was no match for the streets of New York, apparently, because he was trapped. When Master Michelangelo had taken him into the city as a child, he spun wild tales of how chaotic it could get, but Casey had never actually entertained it in his mind. He thought he was never going to see a tomorrow like that, so what was the point?

 

I probably should have paid a lot more attention to everything they said about the past.

 

Casey pressed his back against the brick wall of the pizza place he just came out of. He had an interview for a job, as crazy as that sounds. Like what pizza place is open after the end of the world? This one, apparently, due to the amount of help wanted ads that ended up in the sewer.

 

It had taken a long time to convince most of the clan to let him apply. Most, like Leo and Raph, said it was “ too soon” . But it’s been nearly two months since the invasion, and Casey needed something. A challenge. It’s not like he didn’t enjoy time with his new family, but a wasteland warrior needed something to fulfill his days while everyone was healing.

 

And everything was so new. Hell, the teenager himself was a completely new person. Leo had started it- “CJ said- Oh, can I call you CJ?”- and the nickname stuck. He was no longer Casey “Lifesaver” Jones, who got up with the rest of the battalion to defend his base against aliens since he could walk. He was “CJ”, the newest addition to the hodgepodge Hamatos, or “Future Boy”, the guy who was slung in from the future and was now reduced to sleeping on the couch.

 

So, CJ wasn’t much of anyone anymore. If you asked him about his personality outside of fighting, he couldn’t really tell you much. ‘Introvert’ and ‘extrovert’ were just noisy words to him. He didn’t know how to react when Mikey asked his favorite color, and he didn’t have much to say when April inquired about his favorite Jupiter Jim movie. So, what better way to discover who you are outside of fighting and survival than work!

 

CJ liked to think he thought in checklists, just like Master Donatello. It organized his thoughts, filtered out the unnecessary details that clouded his judgement. For example, here’s everything he knew about the boss of this pizza place:

 

• Mr. Bennet, first name unknown

• Collection of strange ties

• • Today he was wearing red plaid, but in the picture on his desk, he was wearing yellow and navy stripes

• Asks a lot of questions

• Judgemental eyes

• • Can see right through me?

• Scar under his left eye

• • The Kraang?

• Loves to comment on how ‘unusual’ I am

 

 

Now, Casey was not the most normal person out there. In fact, everything about him was rather extraordinary, particularly his awful social skills. Mikey had helped him work on those before the interview of course, but CJ couldn’t help but feel he had been awkward the entire time, like this old man could just tell there was something off about him. Mr. Bennet asked him a lot of questions, most of which CJ had prepared for.

 

“Where did you get your previous education?”

 

“I’ve been homeschooled my entire life,” CJ replied. Definitely not a lie.

 

“Your application says you just moved here. Where did you live before?” 

 

“Abroad, I traveled a lot.” Another truth.

 

“Current place of residence?”

 

“4891 Mirage Street.” Cassandra’s apartment. That one was kind of a lie.

 

“No drivers license?”

 

“I skate to get around.”

 

“Name of legal guardians?”

 

“Hamato Yoshi.”

 

Mr. Bennet glanced from the file in his hands, looking over his square glasses that were impossibly tiny. “Like the movie star?”

 

Oh, right. Donnie had warned him that saying his guardian was the Lou Jitsu might turn some heads. Casey nodded, and Mr. Bennet’s gaze lingered for a few moments longer before flicking to write something down. Just enough to be awkward and make CJ’s skin crawl. 

 

“You’re one unusual kid, you know that?”

 

Everything felt like a disaster, but it had apparently gone well, according to the looming employees who had very obviously been eavesdropping.

 

“The boss never looks that satisfied with interviewees,” one of the guys, ‘ Keno’, based on his nametag, said. He had a cocky smirk like Leo did, which worried CJ more than annoyed him.

Keno:

• Seventeen

 

• Just got his driver’s license and won’t get anyone forget that
• Delivery boy
• Smiles like Leo

 

 

• • Acts a lot like him too

 

• Wears the red and white jacket

 

 “Maybe you’ll be a delivery boy like Angie and me,” He offered, leaning against the counter as Casey awkwardly waved at him.

‘Angie’ being Angel, a girl with dark purple hair, significantly shorter than the both of them. “Angie and I,” she corrected, rolling her eyes and clicking her helmet into place. “Yeah, he’s just gonna love being stuck here with you, Keno.”

Angel:

 

• Younger than Keno

• • Smarter, too

• Kind of scary

• Would get along with Donnie

• Wears the dark purple jacket

• • Jacket looks extremely soft

 

 

They seemed nice, Casey thought. A drop of something cold fell onto CJ’s cheek, making a shot of fear spike in his veins. He wiped the drop off his face, a pounding in his chest, before recognizing it as rain. Oh, right. It does that here. One of the things CJ discovered about himself in the past was that he did not like thunder, or ‘storm’s. A woman walking past him gave him an odd stare, but didn’t question. Probably not the weirdest thing she’s seen in the past few months.

 

CJ pressed against the wall as far as he could go to get under the overhang. His phone buzzed, most likely a member of the clan checking in. CJ pulled it out and was greeted by the smiles of the clan members, celebrating on that rooftop only a few weeks ago. He loved that day- he had tried pizza. And oh my god, it was incredible. He had cursed Master Leonardo for not even telling him about it before. He also liked that day because Donnie let Leo out of the lair, and Raph had beaten the “Pizza Box Stack Record”, which was where they balanced boxes on their heads and walked along the bridge. CJ didn’t quite get it, but it was nice to see everyone smile.

 

It was comforting, being able to forget everything that happened for a few minutes. Although the ache in CJ’s ankle still persisted, and exhaustion burned behind his eyes, he felt included. Wanted, even. Nothing was better than that.

 

Damn it, Casey watched the blinking cursor. He forgot his password again. Donnie would probably be annoyed having to tell him again. Nice going, Casey. Way to go, inconveniencing Donnie as he actively works day and night to reprogram our security. CJ chewed his thumb nail, wracking his brain. Remember, remember-

 

“Hey, it’s newbie!”

 

CJ whipped around to see Keno and Angel, the former holding an umbrella over them both. Angel punched him in the shoulder, muttering something CJ couldn’t hear over the intensifying rain. Keno ignored her,  joining him on the wall. “Welcome to the team. You’re totally getting hired.”

 

A lump formed in Casey’s throat, a common occurrence for the past few months. His brain buzzed as he tried to register what Keno said. Was that a compliment? Was he just trying to start a conversation? Is this small talk? Is he making fun of me?

 

“Oh, I don’t know.” Damn it. I could have sworn I had more words prepared.

 

Keno just chuckled, him and Angel giving each other a quick glance. “You’re weird, newbie. Want to walk with us?”

 

“ Keno,” Angel’s protest resided in her sharp voice. The look in her eyes said it all. She didn’t want Casey around.

 

“Oh, it’s fine,” CJ said, free hand subconsciously flitting back and forth, tapping his jeans. “I’ll just get my aunt to-”

 

“Shut up, Angel’s just joking,” Keno insisted, elbowing her in the shoulder. He had to angle down due to her height. “Come on, newbie!” Keno took off, consumed by the crowd, leaving Casey and Angel racing to make it under the umbrella.

 

Tugging on his own sleeve, Casey tried to quell his racing thoughts as Keno proudly pushed his way through the crowd. He and Angel were so assertive, confident in weaving through the people, even as the world was plunged into darkness.

 

“I don’t think I caught your name, newbie,” Keno shouted over the crowd to be heard.

 

“Uh- Casey Jones Junior,” CJ stated, as he’d done a million times before. “But my family calls me CJ. Or sometimes Junior.”

 

Keno dodged a couple holding hands, separating CJ from the umbrella for just a moment. The panic that filled his heart for those two seconds sickened him. It was a weak, queasy feeling that he despised. “I’m Keno Reyes, and that heavenly delight is Angel Kekoa. And yes, before you ask, ‘Angel’ is her real name!” Angel muttered a sharp ‘shut up’, but avoided Casey’s eyes.

 

Why does he want to talk to me? She thinks I’m weird. Does staring at the ground wondering if people think you’re weird make you look more weird-?

 

CJ’s shoulder collided with a man in a black hoodie. “Watch it, man!” The guy barked. CJ felt his arms and fists tense before his brain could break out of his own thoughts, the cloaked man mere inches away from his face.

 

“He didn’t mean it, man, no harm done!” Keno offered, taking CJ by the shoulder and guiding him back through the crowd. “Keep your eyes up, Casey. Have you never been to New York before?”

 

I’ve lived here my whole life, Casey thought, but he couldn’t say that. “I just moved here a few months ago. Guess I’m not used to the crowds yet.”

 

“Where are you from?” Keno asked. Casey just replied with the first thing he could think of

 

“Ohio.”

 

Keno whistled. “Welcome to the Big Apple. Angel and I are both natives here, but don’t worry. You’ll catch up in no time! You planning on going to Washington Irving in October?”

 

Washington Irving, April’s old school. CJ knew that school like the back of his hand. It was used as a training center for students who trained under Master Donatello before they transferred to that research center. In this timeline, it had gotten the roof blown off of it by debris from Metro Tower, when Mikey had flung it through the sky. April had mentioned it was getting rebuilt and was set to open for a late school year come October.

 

“Maybe,” Casey lied. “I don’t know what year I would be considered due to homeschool…and stuff.” Angel snorted, and CJ’s hand instinctively flitted against his torso.

 

“How old are you?” Keno asked, shoving Angel lightly and causing her purple hair to get sprinkled by rain.

 

“Sixteen. Seventeen in May.” 

 

“Ah, you’d be a junior like Angel!” Keno twirled the umbrella in his palm, flecks of rain soaking CJ’s hair. “Lucky me, it’s my last year in that hellhole. Then it’s off to Eastlaird! Poor Angie will miss having me there to keep her company!”

 

Angel finally cracked a small smile, her pink lip gloss shining despite the dreary lighting. “Like I’m the one who needs you there. I’m the reason you made it to senior year anyway.”

 

“Riiight,” Keno didn’t try to deny it. “Angel is like- hella smart. Like- president of the robotics team and part of every tech club in school kind of smart. You need anything solved or built, then Angel’s your girl.”

 

“He’s exaggerating,” Angel finally spoke at Casey, her strikingly grey eyes grazing him over for a split second. “Except for the smart part. That is extremely true.”

 

For a moment, Casey felt like he was in on whatever they were talking about. Walking through the streets with two potential co-workers was not on his to-do list, but it did feel kind of…natural. “Normal.” Naively, he imagined a world where maybe he could be their friend if he ended up working here, or, hell, even going to high school . He’d never had friends his age before, but being around his new Hamatos combined with being thrusted into an entirely new world brought out feelings he didn’t feel equipped to handle. He supposed the word was peaceful?  Well, it was hard to feel entirely peaceful after the life he had led so far, but he was trying. 

 

And Dr. Feelings told him that trying was all they could expect of him.

 

“Uhm, this is my street,” Casey said after a few more moments, listening in on the laughter from his two acquaintances. “Thanks for the umbrella.”

 

Keno patted CJ’s shoulder, his smile reaching his eyes. “Ah-ah-ah, don’t think you’re off the hook. Let me get your number!” CJ instinctively tugged on his jacket sleeve, that wrenching feeling of being stuck hitting him again. Keno grabbed his hand, handing the umbrella to Angel and shuffling around in his jeans pocket before pulling out a pen.

 

CJ told himself he wasn’t allowed to breathe until Keno had finished writing his number, just in case he took up too much space or disturbed his focus. Keno’s handwriting was surprisingly clear, another thing for CJ’s list. Keno patted him on the shoulder and spun around in the opposite direction, Angel hot on his heels.

 

“Hit my line, Casey Jones!” He cupped his hands around and shouted, cutting off with a gasp and a laugh as Angel hit him in the stomach.

 

“You are actually so humiliating, what is wrong with you-?” CJ heard her snap, before the two disappeared into the dwindling rain.

 

A light punch of laughter bubbled in CJ’s chest as he watched them go, the weight of ink pressed into his skin heavy. Did Casey have friends? Was this the reality planned for him all along? Either way, in that moment, everything felt like it was going to be alright.

 

___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

CJ liked the sound the rain made when he walked through the tunnels to the lair. Combined with the playlist Michelangelo had made for him, it was the perfect background noise for walking to the station.

 

He wasn’t sure what this genre of music was called, but it was bright and had a heavy base that made his heart thump faster. Music was one of the best things about the past that CJ could find himself getting very used to. Everyone in the family made him “playlists” filled with songs of their choosing. April even got him a pair of headphones from the convenience store so he could listen to it whenever he wanted! Best past-thing ever.

 

There wasn’t a train scheduled for right now, so CJ was able to walk through the subway peacefully. Once he saw the dim light of the family’s secret hideout, he felt that he could let down his guard, shoulders softening.

 

The lair was quiet, the only noise being the faint sound of Mikey’s “cooking music” coming from the kitchen. Despite being a little rough-around-the-edges from the invasion, it was still more textbook definition homely than CJ ever remembered having. His childhood home was the linoleum floor of Sector One, or the rough terrain of a cave when they were out on a mission. Everything was so… warm now.

 

The Hamatos had taken Casey in with enthusiasm. How they could muster up so much spirit after the atrocities committed that day, CJ would never understand. He tried telling them that he wanted to go out and explore the world he never got to experience, but Raphael…he wasn’t so open to the idea.

 

His living space wasn’t terrible. He got the living room when Splinter wasn’t occupying it- a worn-in couch, shared by stuffed animals and blankets provided by Raph and Mikey. At least, that’s who he assumes drapes him in blankets when he falls asleep too fast to do it himself. They were the most welcoming of the family. The other members of the family were nice, of course, but CJ couldn’t find a way to be completely comfortable around them. How can I expect anything more from them? I’m the Hamato outsider. I don’t necessarily belong here.

 

CJ registered the tiredness in his bones, weary from being out on his own all day. Stop by Donnie’s for my password, then a quick power nap before family dinner. 

 

Donatello was right where CJ suspected- in his lab, half hunched over some sparking tech guts, half staring at a vibrant purple screen. He didn’t acknowledge CJ as he entered- techno music blaring audibly from the side of his headphones that covered one side of his head.

 

“Donnie…?” Casey snapped his fingers. “Donatello?”

 

Donnie did not hear him. In fact, he began singing along to the song under his breath. A smile pulled at Casey’s mouth. Yep, that’s Master Donatello.

 

“MASTER DONATELLO!” Casey shouted, hitting a fist against the metallic walls of his lab. Donnie suavely spun around, tearing the headphones off his head.

 

“Cassandra Jones Junior.” He greeted monotonously, eyes covered by his blue and red goggles. “How can I help you?” Donnie patted a wheeled stool by his side, inviting Casey over.

 

“Don’t be mad, but…”

 

“Not a strong start, Jones.” CJ sighed defeatedly, pulling his phone from his pocket. Donnie groaned, brows pinched on his mask. “You forgot the password again.”

 

“I’m really sorry, Donnie-”

 

“YRLDMADCCHAMATO22,” The genius interrupted. “The first initial of each member of the clan, our surname, and the year you were born.” Casey must have pulled a face. “I don’t understand how you don’t get it,” Donnie stated plainly.

 

CJ handed him the phone and the turtle punched in the password, checking over the settings and clearing out his app tabs. The human drummed fingers against the desk wrapping around the walls of the lab, several gadgets and flashing screens catching his eye. The techno noise still blared out of the headphones lying in Donatello’s lap. Safe to say his playlist was my least favorite. “Could- could you turn that down for a minute, Master Donatello?” CJ asked over the noise.

 

Donnie pursed his lips, silencing the music with the tap of a finger. “My apologies. In the past, we call it ‘sensory seeking’.” He handed the phone back to CJ, the beaming faces of his wallpaper looking back at him.

 

CJ could feel something hanging in the air. Donnie rubbed the area where his shoulder met his battle shell, eyes glued to the ground. Despite their blatant similarities, past Donnie was so much less… eccentric than Master Donatello was. There was always an oddness about the tech genius resistance leader that was normalized in CJ’s mind. He was blunt when he spoke, muttering in strange patterns and whispering about things beyond Casey’s years. This Donnie did similar things, but he was a lot more timid about what he wanted or thought than what CJ remembered. 

 

It took CJ a few tries to remember these teenagers weren’t the war-battered warriors that he had grown up with.

 

“You didn’t see Leo when you were out, did you?” Donnie asked finally. Behind him, his screen glowed with the trackers CJ had seen on his watch in the Turtle Tank. Blue was noticeably missing.

 

CJ shook his head. “Sorry, Donnie. How long has he been out?”

 

“He’s not supposed to be out in general,” Donnie spoke through gritted teeth. His knuckles were turning white from where they rested on the lab counter. “He didn’t tell anyone he was leaving, and he neglected to use the buddy system that Raph feels strongly about.” CJ felt a bit guilty for that one. But hey, at least he bothered to tell everyone where he was going before taking off.

 

“He’s restless,” CJ tried to play devil’s advocate. Can’t really blame him.

 

“He’s an idiot,” Donnie shot back pointedly. Something dark turned in the softshell’s eyes. “The guy needs to be tied down to stay in one place for more than ten minutes.” CJ spun his thumb around the other, awkwardness building up in the silence. Eventually, Donatello huffed. “ Audible groan, I hate being the responsible one. You look exhausted. You can exit my lab now.”

 

“Oh, okay. Thanks, Master Donatello.” He didn’t need to tell CJ twice.

 

The living room was CJ’s bedroom. It was always either way too hot or too cold, the sound of trains rumbled deep in the floor’s gut, and there was zero privacy, but hey, at least it didn’t smell like a hospital. Splinter hadn’t been too happy when this arrangement was made, but was immediately comforted when CJ told him he didn’t mind if he watched tv in there. Although, lately Splinter preferred to stay up in his room when it wasn’t mandatory family time.

 

CJ had never known Splinter in the future, as he died early on in the initial apocalypse, so getting to know the rat had been a challenge. Master Michelangelo spun tales of his father being courageous, a wise teacher and sensei, strictly loyal to the Hamato code, while Master Leonardo would just smile sadly and call his father the ‘inspiration for the Resistance’, leaving it as just that. Every interaction he had with the rat had been awkward at best (especially saying that his diet consisted mostly of rats...in front of the giant rat), and the last thing CJ needed was another one of those moments.

 

Luckily, he was nowhere to be seen. CJ sunk into the couch, the tv already playing some late night program. He had tv in the future- or, whatever programs Donatello created that passed as tv- but the present had thousands more options. The screen blared technicolor images, like a hypnotizing spiral that immediately latched on CJ’s exhausted brain. The world around him became fuzzy and blurry as he fixated on a certain point. Moments like this have become usual in the past few months. At first, zoning out was a nice brain break. Eventually, however, thoughts started to slip in through the cracks. He became aware of his surroundings in a distorted sense. Memories, fact and fiction smudged together and created a voice in the back of his head.

 

What are you doing here?

Where are you right now?

Do they even want you here?

Where is Master Leonardo?

Did we really beat the Kraang?

What are you doing here, Casey?

 

“CJ!” A voice exclaimed from behind the couch. Before Casey could react, strong arms wrapped around his shoulders, lifting him a good several inches off the couch. His immediate instinct was ‘fight' , but the crushing weight around his arms immobilized him. The reflex didn’t last long, however, as the aggressive ruffling of his hair proved this was not a threat.

 

“Hey, Cassandra,” CJ muttered, unable to fight the smile on his lips.

 

Cassandra, one of the best things about this future. A short statured woman with black lipstick, shaved hair, and the Hamato symbol embroidered on every piece of clothing she owned. The one who took the cake for most Kraangified killed during the invasion. The most badass person CJ had seen in his entire life, save for Master Leonardo, of course. In two years, this woman would have been his mom.

 

“You had your interview today. Tell me EVERYTHING. Have you been accepted yet? Was the boss nice to you? Was he rude? Do I need to DEMOLISH HIS ESTABLISHMENT BRICK BY BRICK TO PROVE NOBODY MESSES WITH THE HAMATO CLAN?!” Cassandra shouted, launching herself over the couch and landing shoulder-to-shoulder with CJ.

 

“No, that’s okay, Cass.” The woman took his hands and inspected, noticing the chips in his nail polish that she had painted days ago. CJ’s heart buzzed watching her scan, her eyes shining with pride. It was a weird feeling, being fussed over by someone with as much of a presence as Cass had. It was something CJ had begun to forget after growing up. “Keno said he thinks it went well.”

 

“Of course it did! No one is as hard working and deserving as my son,” Cass insisted, patting his ruffled hair. CJ chuckled.

 

No, Cass was not his mom. CJ (with the help of Donnie) had hardwired that into his brain the second he saw her picture on April’s phone. This was an eighteen-year-old girl who, according to his sensei, had been through hell and back who had been "adopted" into the clan. But as soon as CJ met Cass, the woman had insisted on being his “mom”, not caring what anybody else said. Of course, she couldn’t be the most present, being only two years older than CJ himself and having plenty of responsibilities of her own. But she still insisted that she would take him under her wing and care for him like a son. CJ didn’t have very many memories of his own mother, so who was he to argue?

 

“Is this Keno a new friend?” Cass asked, a glint of mischief in her eyes.

 

CJ shrugged. “Maybe. He’s really nice, his friend Angel is a bit…” he struggled to find the correct phrasing. “...Donatello.”

 

Cass nodded like she understood immediately. “Heard loud and clear. Besides that, how have you been lately?” Her voice coming down to a normal volume. CJ blinked away the soft edges around his vision, the remains of his…thoughts earlier.

 

“You mean in the two days since you last saw me?” He teased. “Yeah, I’ve been good. It’s been pretty quiet around here lately.” Cass pursed her lips, snorting a laugh.

 

“You should have been here months ago. There wasn’t a quiet day within a mile radius of this place!” Her eyes softened, dropping CJ’s hand and cracking her knuckles. Even the force to be reckoned with that was his alternative mother knew that something was off. “But don’t worry about that. Things will pick up around here soon enough, and the villains of New York will once again face the sweet justice of our clan!”

 

CJ offered her the biggest smile he could muster. “You got it.” Cass smiled back, a perfect mirror of his own. They didn’t look anything alike, and CJ was sure that if he ever knew who his dad was, he had to be a spitting image of him. Nonetheless, the stranger in front of him who he knew more than she knew him felt like his own blood. Like a piece of his future was still with him. It was bittersweet. He missed his own mom, of course, but she was long gone. But Cass? She was a pretty good for a teenage girl stepping up.

 

Eventually, Cass broke the moment. “I am going to check on sensei Splinter. You must rest before family dinner. And then, we shall CELEBRATE YOUR NUMEROUS VICTORIES!” She flipped off the couch with swiftness. Before exiting, she brought both hands to her mouth and brought them out towards CJ. “Aishitemasu. Hamato clan!”

 

CJ chuckled under his breath. “I love you too,” he said, much too quiet for her to hear. His exhaustion caught up to him once more, sleep tugging at his eyelids.

 

Just a small nap, he said to himself, reclining and folding his hands over his stomach. He exhaled deeply, eyes falling shut. Don’t think, don’t think, don’t think.

___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

CJ didn’t dream. It was an developmental thing from being a light sleeper, he suspected. Sure, sometimes he had hazy visions of pink arms reaching toward him, or saw distorted faces in the distance, but that has always been it. He never woke up screaming from nightmares. He was one of the lucky ones.

 

But this was different from anything he had ever experienced before.

 

He opened his eyes like he was waking up, but instead of seeing the lair ceiling, he saw a warm yellow glow. The world surrounding him was pure white, like the Medbay in Sector One, except it didn’t have the chemically clean smell. In fact, most of CJ’s senses proved useless in this opaque. Every nerve in his existence buzzed, the hair on his arms standing on edge. He lifted himself off the ground, towards the bright light above him. It felt like he was floating.

 

The circle in the sky, as bright as the sun, melted into a soft turquoise color. The hue was so vibrant, capturing CJ’s brain like nothing had before. He was usually so good as focusing, but the color invited him to come closer. Safety, security, the answers, it promised. CJ reached his arm up, hopeful to grasp whatever held his mind. It felt like light, slipping through his fingers. The light was getting brighter. It burned his eyes and held his skull in place.

 

Where am I?

 

Distant whispers arose around him, muffled and urgent. CJ couldn’t make out a single thing they were saying, the beam above him forcing him to look. His eyelids felt heavy as the air around him picked up. The words became even more rapid, but loud.

 

“Fix, Family, Bifro- Anata- Run, -ato, Leon-!”

 

Panic surged through CJ as he finally tore himself away from the light. The world around him felt like one of the horrible dust storms the future was plagued with, except instead of stinging sand, it was a scorching wind that physically knocked CJ from his balance.

 

This doesn’t feel like a dream. This is not a dream.

 

A mighty gust hit CJ in the back, stealing the breath from his lungs as simply as knocking an object from someone’s hands. The panic turned into pure terror as CJ tried to inhale to find- I can’t. Painful coughs seized from what little air lingered in his chest, his vision clouded by increasing turquoise light and his own hair being whipped in front of his face.

 

Words didn’t materialize no matter how hard he pushed. He begged, pleaded, for someone to save him from this. Dreams aren’t supposed to feel like you’re dying!

 

A voice he didn’t recognize boomed in his skull, an answer to his hoarse cries..

 

“Save them, Casey.”

 

“Leo!”

 

Expecting his voice to be just as hoarse as before, CJ let a scream erupt from his throat. But he found that the next time he opened his eyes, he was screaming at the wall. He wasn’t in some blinding purgatory, he was in the living room. His bedroom. The TV was still playing the same late night program. What felt like an eternity in a chokehold nightmare was less than ten minutes in the real world? CJ took a grounding breath, only to find that he couldn’t. The wind was still knocked from him.

 

What the hell is happening?! He felt light-headed- oh god, I’m gonna pass out. Coughing that felt like a ton of tiny blades scraping his throat punched itself out of him. His eyes watered, hands clutching his throat. What’s happening- what is this- sensei, help me-

 

“Hey, Junior?”

 

From his teary eyes, CJ could only make out a blurry purple and green figure standing in the doorway. Donnie, his brain told him. Threat, his body argued, louder than anything he could reason with. Ripping the blanket from his lap- had that been there before?- CJ leapt from the couch, assuming a fighting stance. The blur visibly tensed, battle shell illuminated by the screen.

 

“...Junior? Are you okay?” He was monotonous, but there was a hint of care. CJ, in his state, could at least recognize that. Awful tremors rushed into his fingers, preventing him from leaping. 

 

Weak, his brain hissed. Fight, save yourself! But he couldn’t. His chest ached, his eyes crossed, and the coughing still shook him. CJ couldn’t even stand up straight, let alone fight. He had to listen to the figure.

 

“CJ- Casey? You’re having a coughing fit. Please, relax. I’ll take you to my lab,” The softshell offered, moving around the couch and slowly putting hands on CJ’s shoulders. He was significantly colder than the embrace of Mikey or the comforting patting of Raph, but it was grounding enough for the heaving human. After a few moments, CJ could hear Donnie’s breathing to a slow breathe in for five, breathe out for five. CJ naturally felt the pull to copy him, air breaking through the dam in his throat with some reproach.

 

His entire upper body ached, but CJ was breathing, finally. A buzzing still hummed in his throat, but he could go a while without coughing. Blinking the wetness from his eyes, he could see that Donnie looked- well, he looked exhausted, but there was also concern. Like he cared for what CJ was going through, like he worried about him.

 

Donnie pursed his lips once CJ’s breathing became more even. “Let’s…go for an evaluation.”

 

CJ found himself back in the medbay. He hadn’t spent too much time in here after the invasion, just for a wrapping around his ankle. He didn’t like visiting Leo here because it had just been…awful. Seeing him torn apart and broken and barely conscious and CJ had indirectly caused him all of that pain by taking the key and leaving him in the Prison Dimension with Kraang Prime-

 

“Jones, can you follow my finger without blinking?” Donnie sat in front of him on a leather wheeling chair. He shined a bright light at CJ’s eyes, reminding him of the nightmare.

 

Has that been a nightmare? It felt so real , he could feel the wind pushing him and spit flying from his mouth as coughs wracked through him. 

 

The light burned his eyes, a headache pulsating through the base of his skull. Donnie conducted tests that CJ only half comprehended, the urge to drop dead in exhaustion taking over him once more.

 

“What caused this, Jones? Open,” Donnie commanded, holding a strange, cylinder contraption that shone a light to the back of CJ’s mouth.

 

“I don’t-”

 

“Don’t talk when I’m doing this.”

 

I don’t know, CJ snapped in his head, fulfilling Donnie’s orders with a roll of his eyes. Donnie scribbled something in a manilla folder, ignoring his previous questions. The headache rose in ferocity, causing CJ to wince.

 

“Are you experiencing pain currently?” Every word punctuated just irritated CJ more. He nodded to avoid triggering another coughing fit.

 

Every moment was suddenly elevated. The sound of Donnie’s pen against the paper, the buzzing of the lights above. It sort of felt how Master Donatello described his sound sensitivity, except CJ felt his entire body alight with some sort of electricity, like every nerve was starting to fry. Turquoise flashed in his brain.

 

‘Save them, Casey.”

 

Pain. Horrible, debilitating pain flushed CJ’s entire being. His muscles jerked, and that was the last thing CJ processed before he was thrown back into pure, burning white.

___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

Dealing with CJ’s…health issue (?) wasn’t on Donnie’s bucket list for the night, but it was better than sitting through another mandatory family dinner. He loved his family to pieces, he really did, hence why he spent every waking moment improving everything for them. But having to sit there and pretend like everything was fine when Leo had betrayed some of the biggest rules they had in this house? Gag me with a metaphorical spoon.

 

CJ’s episode had been concerning at best. The guy was usually so reserved that seeing him hyperventilate had been odd. So, Donnie felt comforted in doing what he did best- stats.

 

“Okay, CJ, now I’m going to-” Donnie began, but the words were taken from him when he took another good look at the human. He was slumped over, eyes lidded and rolled back into his head, his chest was rising and falling rapidly but no air was escaping or going in. “Junior?”

 

The strangest thing? He was sparking. Flits of bright orange flickered off of his skin, encapsulating the teenager like lightning. He was like a live wire. You’d think that being familiar with live wires, Donnie would be more cautious when faced with one.

 

But no.

 

Donnie put his hands on CJ’s shoulders, attempting to ground him like earlier. Instantly, he felt it.

 

You see, the Hamato Ninpo felt like electricity coursing through your skin, but it never hurt. It mostly just amplified whatever emotion you were currently feeling and allowed power to course through you, like a very physical rush of adrenaline. But as soon as Donnie touched CJ, like an ungrounded hand touching exposed technology, it zapped him with the most painful, stomach churning shift.

 

It physically threw Donnie off of his chair. Purple volts came alive from veins, but it hurt worse than hurting his ankle in the Lair Games. Worse than anything Donnie had ever felt in his life. He heard distant voices- familiar voices. Gram-Gram, Grandpa Sho, the hums of hundreds of others.

 

They said, ‘Save them, Casey.’

 

When Donnie was able to finally pull away, nothing felt right. His vision swam, the medbay turning into a technicolor blur. Bile climbed up his throat and everything felt off- like the world had been translated over an axis. Not different, but far from the same. On the table, CJ had begun trembling aggressively, still entranced in his seizure-like state.

 

What how what CJ what to do I’m not trained for this- “Help!”

Notes:

This chapter almost didn't come out because this month has been...awful lol. Nonetheless, the love for this story exists and I hope you all enjoyed chapter two! CJ and Cassandra are two of my favorite characters in the entirety of Rise (and my all time favorite iterations of Casey Jones), and both are very hard to write, so I hope I did them justice!
Stay tuned for more! A little birdie told me we're checking back in with Future Leo...? Could be a rumor though. Who knows.
Peace out!

Chapter 4: chapter three - the shift

Summary:

Leonardo awakens in the past,
Leo is scared of the future.

Content warning - suicidal thoughts in a non-traditional sense, only in the first half of the chapter.

Notes:

I thought this chapter wouldn't come out in time because this month has been god awful, but music was my savior once more and helped me write like five hundred words in ten minutes.

“Karai!”

 

The name forced itself out of Leonardo’s throat, escaping like a trapped beast in a cage. It felt like claws scraping down the sides, wrestling a strained, pitiful shout. The cell he was held in was white- not nearly as blinding as the spirit world, but just as suffocating. Leonardo tried to blink away the soft edges of his vision. As he regained his senses, he found that it was almost overwhelming- a chemically clean smell, paired with a soft hum from somewhere in the distance. His entire body felt like static, like an asleep limb.

 

Where am I? Is this the medbay? Was everything just a dream?

 

Oh, Leonardo would have loved for the past two decades to be a dream. For a moment, it was. A part of him did know where- and when- he was. Karai said “another universe”, and that could only possibly mean the past. Must be why I’m feeling pins and needles. Yet, his brain and body finally felt relaxed, despite the prickle in his limbs. Colors infiltrated his vision, the familiar warmth and memories of his childhood returning to him. The best moments of his life replayed as Leonardo let his body catch up with his mind. Maybe he was dead after all? Maybe the meeting with Karai was a hallucination that his injury and trauma-riddled mind concocted to fuck with him one last time. Maybe when the smoke clears, Leonardo will be happy again.

 

It may have been foolish, but he allowed himself to become just Leo once again. That’s who he’ll be when he reunites with his brothers after all, right? He won’t need to be anyone’s sensei or fearless resistance leader, because he’ll have eternal peace. No more war, no more fighting, no more things taken too soon. The world will have color again when he’s looking through just Leo’s eyes, because that’s how his younger self saw it. Everything will make sense when he’s forever young again. Younger Leo didn’t worry about anything. Maybe he worried when the Shredder became a bigger threat, or even when Draxum was causing problems. But he always handled it. He covered up the sad shit with charisma and jokes, which made his feelings numb and convinced the team everything was fine. So Leonardo gave it a try, at least for a second. No drills, no meetings, no emergencies, no lives to save. Just Leo was good at everything. All work, and his work was all play.

 

God, Leonardo wanted to be him. To be like Leo, you have to think like Leo. What would the old Leo do in this situation? He’d probably say, “Yeah, that doesn’t make any sense. I’m gonna do my own thing. Why waste my time?” Nothing Karai said made sense, so he let it float from his conscience. Why waste his time left on this Earth?

 

Karai. Karai. Leonardo never hated Karai, even after she stopped connecting with him. Although it took years to realize what he had done was wrong, he still never stopped attempting to make peace with his ancestors spirit. But now? Oh boy, Leonardo was pissed. Why does she always have to be so cryptic? And her last words-

 

“Anatawa Hitorijanai.” ‘You are not alone.’ Well Leonardo called that bullshit now.

 

Fuck it. I don’t care. I’m just Leo now.

 

But the delusion ended, because of course it did. Leonardo was grown up and can no longer be what he once was. His brothers are dead. Karai betrayed him.

 

Everything- is- your- fault.

 

Nausea ripped through him fast as lightning, acid rising in his throat. He pushed through the bleary air only to find that his wrists were held down. His…wrist. Just the one. Leonardo’s prosthetic was nowhere to be seen. His shell was pressed against cold metal, digging into him and holding him vulnerable. So he did the first thing his brain told him to. Fight.

 

Leonardo screamed a fierce cry, thrashing his clenched fist and willing his restraints to tear. He was pretty lithe, but his strength was substantial. He threw his body weight over the metal edges he could feel on his side. Wherever he was, it didn’t account for a fully grown mutated slider turtle.

 

The acid was rising, burning as it surfaced in slow motion. Tears pricked in the corners of Leonardo’s eyes as he choked, the contraption he was laying on shuffling minimally. Before the contents of his stomach could escape, he was suddenly offered a trashcan.

 

The hand holding it was a pale smudge. Leonardo swallowed back the uneasiness and finally paused his thrashing. Blood roared in his brain, silencing him from the hum of whatever the prescence was trying to say.  He felt a hand push down on his carapace, inviting him to lay back down. The being mumbled something else, but Leonardo’s mind was too loud to capture it. It was mostly thoughts of Karai, Casey, and his brothers. The stabbing disappointment of still being alive, but not knowing how.

 

Leonardo stared at the ceiling, ignoring the murmurs from beside him. A part of him knew where he was. Karai said that in a different world, another version of me remains. That’s where she sent me, right? Is this the past? Blinking more fuzziness from his eyes, he finally allowed himself to look at the other being in the room.

 

The man had sharp features, a square chin enough to humble Leonardo’s. His jet back hair was shaved down and his widow’s peak protruded prominently. Rectangular glasses rested on his nose, matching a sleek suit and trenchcoat. Between his knees rested a silver tin trashcan.

 

“Let me guess,” Leonardo rasped, unable to help the disappointment in his voice. “John Bishop?”

 

The man blinked in surprise, pushing his glasses farther up his nose. “So you recognize me?” Leonardo scoffed.

 

“Yeah, I guess you could say that.” Agent John Bishop. Leonardo knew him distantly from his efforts at attempting a cure for Kraangified during the first decade or so in the war. He was known for his cunning, and ability to get anything he wanted through persuasion or some connection. He was pretty significant at times, but in the end, he was just a blip lost to history after he went missing. Rumor had it that he was attempting to steal a Kraang formula for his project. Donatello always called him a “big-headed wannabe”, and Leonardo interpreted that as him being jealous. “ Not a threat, just annoying, like you,” Donatello reassured. In this universe however? Leonardo wasn’t taking chances.

 

Agent Bishop studied him, and Leonardo realized they weren’t alone. Two nurses with all but their eyes covered in pure white scrubs worked off to the side, studying a beeping machine and scribbling down words. And the machine was connected to…his wrist. Right. I noticed that.

 

The question ‘ When is it?’  lingered on his mind, but Bishop already seemed to have an answer. “There’s no need to worry. Everyone here is aware you’re from the future.”

 

“Way to get the hard part out of the way.” Despite the rigid tingling in his bones, Leonardo used a limp elbow to hold himself up, propping himself against the wall and straightening his shoulders. It was then that he realized more than half of himself was covered by layers of gauze and bandages. Agent Bishop sucked through his teeth.

 

“You were in bad shape when we found you. The finest doctors and yokai specialists all took a look at you,” Bishop reassured, but Leonardo wasn’t so satisfied. Looking uneasy, Bishop stuck out a hand. “Allow me to reintroduce myself. I am Agent John Bishop, an official at the Techno Cosmic Research Institute and founder of the Earth Protection Force.” It took a few moments of Leonardo staring at his hand for Bishop to get the clue. “Right. My apologies, Leonardo.”

 

“Appreciated, but I’m not in the mood for- wait.” Leonardo’s blood felt colder than usual. Bishop knew about the yokai. He knew about time travel- I time traveled. He knew Leonardo’s name. Why would a human in the past know about that? Don’t tell me we were discovered already. “How do you know my name?”

 

Bishop finally dropped his hand and the trashcan. “There’s a lot I know, Leonardo. But you can rest assured that you- and your family- are safe.”

 

Fucking liar. “Real convincing. I know you. You aren’t exactly the most honest person in history,” Leonardo grit his teeth as he bumped the IV in his vein, the drowsiness still clouding his judgement. Bishop sighed.

 

“I understand your difficulties trusting me. But you can rest assured, in this timeline,” Bishop flashed a charismatic smile, and Leonardo realized what Donatello meant by this guy having a “very explodeable face”, “...I mean no harm. We are aware of the time travel that brought you here, and I am aware of what you are. Despite that, we are on your side.”

 

That irked Leonardo. “Yeah, I’m a foul sewer monster,” He snorted. He had gotten pretty used to yokai and humans living peacefully for the past decades. Being strapped down and monitored didn’t sit right with Leonardo. “But how do you know that? What year is it?”

 

Bishop pressed his lips together, a thin line that matched the distinct angles of his face. “2022. You traveled nearly twenty years into the past.”

 

A pit formed in Leonardo’s stomach. Yep, right. That would be the year. Bishop was looking at him with a furrowed brow and a downturned sneer. Leonardo knew that look, and wanted to wipe it off the prick’s face. The nurses shared glances, but remained silently. Pity.

 

Did they expect him to lash out again? Attack them like some cryptid from the sewers? Did they want him to do that? Leonardo took some deep breaths, closing his eyes and picturing Michelangelo with him, holding his hand and guiding him through meditation. His little brother always knew how to help him keep his head on. 

 

“You can’t expect them to relate to you. They have no idea what you’ve been through. Keep yourself calm, get the facts. Explain later.”

 

“How do you know who- and what- I am?” Leonardo said, reopening his eyes. Bishop looked satisfied with his reaction, leaning back in his chair.

 

“Techno Cosmic Research Institute- simply TCRI- has been watching over human-yokai related affairs for years. The government didn’t just forget about the yokai when they were driven underground-”

 

“Tell me something I don’t know,” Leonardo demanded through gritted teeth. Whatever drug they were pumping through his system was seeming to wear off as the pins and needles turned to stabs and aches. “I don’t care about all of that. I want to know how you know who I am.”

 

Bishop crossed his arms, glancing back at the nurses. Leonardo noticed a golden pin attached to one of their chests. A cloaking broach? Bishop pointed his index finger towards the door, which blended into the wall almost entirely. They shuffled out, puffy white figures disappearing into freedom. Bishop adjusted his glasses again, leaning in.

 

“TCRI has known about your family for years. You aren’t exactly discreet, you know,” Bishop chuckled. 

 

“My brothers liked to showboat, what can I say,” Leonardo responded curtly. He hoped his shortness would keep Bishop moving along.

 

“We didn’t interfere much with your antics. In fact, we got you out of legal trouble from time to time!” Bishop chuckled. “The Stockman incident was just a blip.”

 

A blip that almost cost our existence, Leonardo remembered bitterly. That kid never did change.

 

“We mostly let you do your thing, stepping in when necessary but remaining at arms length. That was until the baseball stadium, where we realized you were involved in something much bigger than yourselves. That’s where I came in as the founder of the Earth Protection Force. Four teenagers couldn’t handle an ancient evil like the Shredder by themselves now, could they?”

 

No. How could that be? The humans were never aware of Shredder, much less knew how to fight him. “Do you mean to tell me you were involved in stopping Shredder?”

 

Bishop shook his head, looking amused. “Heavens, no. We were in communication with Big Mama when she had custody of him, of course, but mostly we were studying your next move.”

 

It made a chill go up Leonardo’s spine. They had been watching us for years? All that time and effort into keeping us hidde and some secret organization knew about us anyway? It looked like Bishop was awaiting a reaction, but Leonardo just sat tight-lipped. He still didn’t trust this guy.

 

Bishop broke the staring contest first. “You all were incredible when you fought the Shredder. We had so many inquiries about your mysticism and the powers you appeared to have unlocked when you faced him for the last time. We had plans to make ourselves known to you, but that was soon pushed off due to the…recent incidents that have affected New York.” Bishop’s eyes studied Leonardo as he stiffened up. “But I’m sure you are well aware of that fact.”

 

Every word stung Leonardo, like a stick pushed into an open wound. He refused to meet Bishop’s stare. He wanted to close his eyes, lean back, and let light envelop him again. He didn’t want this mission.

 

But Bishop seemed to enjoy poking sleeping bears. “We know about Casey Jones traveling back in time. We know your family saved New York. But we lost contact and became unable to track you,” Bishop leaned back again. “You’ve been radio silent. When we found you a week ago, we knew you were our opportunity to finally achieve our goal.”

 

“Opportunity for what?” Leonardo spat, giving his wrist a good tug once he regained some feeling back. “Be your science project? Do you want to study me? Fine.” Bishop’s eyes widened. “You heard me. Fine. I have nothing to live for. Cut me open so you don’t have to find them again.” Them. Leonardo’s family. They’re here-

 

“Leonardo, we never wanted to ‘study you’ or ‘cut you open’,” Bishop rubbed his jaw, looking satisfied when Leonardo finally looked at him. “We want you to find your family.”

 

Goosebumps prickled every inch of his body, only adding to the sting he felt. Bishop was still talking, but he couldn’t hear him.

 

He could find his family. Easily, if they were how he remembered them. That wasn’t the issue. The issue was that they would see him. They would know that somehow, by the grace of god or Michelangelo or the ancestors, he was able to transcend time through meditation. But it was more than that.

 

The Leonardo before you was the Leonardo who failed. The one who let his entire family die and didn’t have a drop of honor left that would have allowed him to join them. How can I face them like this?

 

“-onardo? Leonardo?” Bishop shook at his shoulder, causing a jolt to rush under Leonardo’s skin. He cursed under his breath, a sweat breaking out on his forehead.

 

“I’m not selling them out to you,” Leonardo snapped, all control leaving his body. “We never wanted to be found. What makes you think I’d be on your side?”

 

Bishop studied him, glaring over his glasses. “Leo, we-”

 

“Don’t call me that.”

 

“Leonardo,” Bishop corrected. “TCRI doesn’t want to hurt you or your family. That was never our goal.” Bishop reached under the chair, pulling out a hefty book. He reluctantly placed it on Leonardo’s lap, like the slider might bite his hand off if he moved too quickly.

 

“What’s this?” Leonardo asked breathlessly, tugging the cuff to flip the cover.

 

“Records of yokai and human relations over the years,” Bishop sighed, reaching over to flip through a few pages. “EPF is the branch that currently oversees them. These are transcripts, articles, new reports…hostlity going on between the two races longer than you or I have been on this Earth.”

 

Leonardo saw pictures of crime scenes, testimonies and reports from as early as the 1950s. He was aware of the malevolence between humans and yokai- he spent the better part of his life with Draxum for goodness sake- but this…the records covered instances from even outside New York. Yokai mistaken for “cryptids”, hunted down and killed. Humans witnessing mysticism, accidentally entering the Hidden City and being antagonized.

 

“I’ve seen it happen, my father witnessed it…the two dominant species of this planet are so openly bitter towards one another.” Bishop turned the book to get a better look at a newspaper clipping of a Loch Ness-esque yokai being hunted for sport in a town near the state line of Jersey and Delaware. Something odd twisted in Leonardo’s gut- nausea? Guilt? Who knows? Who cares? This chump is trying to get something out of me. But the way Bishop’s brow furrowed and how his bottom lip was scarred…Leonardo sighed.

 

“What is your goal here?” Bishop perked up.

 

“Leonardo, EPF wants to bring your family out of the shadows. We want to unite the yokai and the humans to finally bring peace. Once the government knows that their saviors from the alien threat were yokai, we can begin efforts for full integration.” Oh. So that’s why he wants Leonardo to find his family. I’m his only hope to convince them.

 

That fuzzy feeling slowly began to flow back in Leonardo’s system, like a bribe. Do this for us and we’ll take all your pain away. Well jokes on them. Nothing can take away the ache in Leonardo’s existence. He was still alive. What greater pain can there be?

 

But what if he accepted? Then he could see them all again. It would be so simple to track them down. The thought of seeing his big brother again, his twin, his best friend, his father-

 

“I’ll do it,” Leonardo muttered thickly. He sounded weak , and every increasingly heavy nerve in his body wanted to reject it, but he just couldn’t. He couldn’t resist the idea of seeing them one last time.

 

Maybe that was Leonardo’s problem. He always wanted more. Decades of the apocalypse didn’t take away an ounce of his privilege. He was always going to chase what was best for him, the easiest option. That’s why he threw Casey into that portal, was it not? Because it was easier than going back and fixing his mistakes himself. Mikey always told him that was how it had to be, that his vision told him it had to be Casey. But maybe he did have a choice. He very well could have gone back with Casey through the portal instead of throwing him across timelines blindly. 

 

He didn’t deserve to see his family again. But god, there was nothing he wanted more.

 

One last time.

 

Bishop chuckled kindly, patting Leonardo’s chained hand. “Thank you. Thank you! You are doing magnificent things for the world.” He stood up, black suit shining like leather. Who wears a suit to work every single day? Soft lines creased his face, a grin radiating for miles. Leonardo wished he packed his sunglasses. “Of course, you will need to heal your injuries before we can release you.”

 

Leonardo cleared his throat, his vulnerability being highlighted once more. A weight was lifted off his chest however when Bishop pulled keys from his pocket, releasing his wrist. The agent smiled kindly. “Precautions. I’m sure you understand.”

 

“Mm.” Leonardo sat back and tried to process the gravity of what he just agreed to. Was this his final mission? Did Karai send him back in time for a reason? Was it even Karai who sent him back in the first place? Was this Michelangelo’s idea? Questions swam through his brain like a whirlpool, but he had to take it one step at a time. “How long has it been?”

 

“Since the invasion?”

 

No, since the Grammys. “Yes, since the invasion.”

 

“Two months,” Bishop said, facing Leonardo’s monitor. It spiked upon hearing that.

 

Two months, Casey has been alone. One month I’ve been out. Two months since everyone died.

 

Fingers snapped in front of his nose. “Quit doing that!” Leonardo snapped, slamming his fist against the metal table. Bishop didn’t flinch, just looked at him with pinched eyebrows and questions. Uncomfortable silence hung in the air, as if Leonardo was telling Bishop everything he needed to know.

 

His injuries weren’t just skin deep.

 

“I’ll leave you be. We’ll move you into a different room in the morning and begin the healing process. After that, training and a fitness check. We want to take care of you here.” Bishop turned tail and exited the room, saluting him off. "Thank you for your assistance, Leonardo."

 

Now, Leonardo was alone all over again. Right back where he started. There was noise from the machines he was hooked up to, but the loudest was his mind. His thoughts didn’t have a form- no words, just noise. The world around him wasn’t there, it was all noise. But his muscles were stiff, creaky from misuse and the age that has been hunting him down like a bloodhound for years now. It’s when Leonardo is alone at the knife’s end that he realizes his harshest truths.

 

The magnificent Leonardo, the greatest ninja the world had ever seen, wasn’t going to die in a glorified battle. He wouldn’t go out protecting his loved ones, surrounded by saluting soldiers and thousands of beloved, grieving people. He wouldn’t be a spectacle that people would remember for years to come, his legacy gilded with heroic deeds and lives to save. No, he was going to die in a translated world that wasn’t his own. Leonardo was going to find a family that didn’t recognize him, expose them just to witness them one final time, and complete whatever twisted mission the ancestors bestowed upon him.

 

And then he was going to fall.

 

___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

Casey.

 

That was the only name that crossed Leo’s mind as he sat in the dojo, legs crossed and fingers folded in a clasp, the meditation position that he had done so many times before. Usually, this position meant muscles aching dully and both the quiet and loudest mind Leo ever had. But today, his mind was just filled with Casey.

 

When Leo and the rest of the family found CJ in Donnie’s lab, he was seizing and twitching like a man possessed. Leo had reached out to grasp his arm.

 

“No!” Donnie shouted. “Don’t touch him. Something is wrong with his ninpo. It spreads to those who touch him.”

 

It had been strange, seeing Donnie so utterly freaked by something. But Leo knew that it must have felt seriously off if he was getting so worked up about it. They eventually decided that if no one with ninpo could touch CJ without feeling what Donnie felt, they had to get someone who didn’t possess it. Cass had been very willing to pick CJ up from his slumped position, laying him out on the med bay table and grasping his hand like their lives depended on it.

 

The next minutes flew by in a blur. Donnie conducted tests, CJ seized more, Leo stood dumbfounded. It was so weird- he was never one to freeze in big moments. But realistically, what could he do? He wasn’t the most utilized medic on the team, and it was impossible to calm down an unconscious man, so all he could do was supervise.

 

Eventually, CJ went still. Not dead still, asleep still. That didn’t stop Leo from asking that horrible question, though. Donnie sucked in a harsh breath.

 

“ No, he is not dead. Thank you for your support and unwavering optimism, but I’ll handle it from here.” He motioned for Mikey. “You, come here. I need to show you something.”

 

A bitter retort formed on Leo’s lips, but one look from his father told him that now wasn’t the time. They didn’t need Leo right now. Right, I forgot that. They don’t need me like I need them anymore.

 

So, the dojo it was. He prayed to his ancestors, asking thousands of questions. Concussion? Stress related? PTSD? Heart attack? Wait, do heart attacks start with seizures? There was a reason Leo stepped down from the medic position after becoming leader.

 

Behind him, the trap door opened and the floor shifted loftily. Raph, his instincts told him. That didn’t stop him from drawing his sword and whipping around at the speed of light.

 

His big brother put both hands up, red mask illuminated softly by the candles. “Just me, Leo.”

 

Leo shifted and resheathed his sword. “Hey, Raph. How’s Junior doing?”

 

Raph sat next to Leo, his bad eye facing outwards. Thank Supreme. Leo hated that side of him. “He’s fine, still asleep. Donnie’s taking care of him. I’m more concerned about whatever happened to him when he touched CJ.”

 

“Another great mystery fueled by Donnie insanity?” Leo quipped. Raph smirked, his snaggletooth peeking out, but it wasn’t the reaction Leo was going for. Everyone liked to mess with Donnie, that was their thing. Why wasn’t it so funny anymore?

 

Raph pursed his lips, his ‘speech face’ reaching his eyes. A chill crept over Leo’s shoulder. “Leo, I know that lately you-” Oh, so it’s one of those conversations. 

 

“Let’s spar!” Leo jumped up, redrawing his sword and resuming a fighting stance. Raph’s visible pupil was blown wide.

 

“What are you talking about? I was just-”

 

“Come on, man, this is a dojo. We might as well use it as one!” He slashed his blade through the air, relishing in the crisp sound it made cutting the air. Now that is the power he’s been looking for!

 

But Raph just shook his head, staring at him like he was crazy. “Is now really the time? I just wanted to talk.”

 

Leo made a Bronx cheer. “We can talk later. We gotta keep our skills sharp now!” He felt a spark of electricity crackle in his heart, zipping to his sword. Ninpo, yes! Finally! Raph, however, still didn’t look so sure.

 

“Leo, we’re still pretty injured, don’t you think? I’m getting used to my eyesight, and your knee is still a lot more busted than you think. I just don’t think we’re ready.”

 

The spark died down, extinguished just as quickly as it ignited. As the power left his veins, it was replaced by tensing in Leo’s arms and jaw. “No, you’re not ready. We need to move on, Raph! We can’t stay helpless forever. We need to train!”

 

Raph pushed himself up, towering over Leo by two whole heads. “Leo, you need to shut up now.” Even in the darkness, Leo could tell his brother was talking through gritted teeth. He could make out Raph’s fists clutched at his sides, knuckles going pale from the effort.

 

Now, Leo was never the smartest, but he has gotten better at social cues over the years. He knew when to shut up, at least. This was just a bad example.

 

“ Real leaders don’t stop when they’re hurt. They keep fighting anyway, Kraang or not.” Leo spat the words, bitter and full of force. He couldn’t stop himself even if he tried, but you wouldn’t catch him trying. It felt so good to push and push- but he knew Raph was bound to snap.

 

“Stop- pushing it- Leo,” Raph muttered, punctuating each word.

 

It was a rush of adrenaline, craning his neck to stare into his brother’s good eye. Raph’s chest heaved, a telltale sign he was pissed. But Leo couldn’t stop. He sliced his blade through the air, resuming fighting position. “Let’s go! It’s been too long. Or are you scared?”

 

A shadowy force dashed by, and suddenly Leo’s blade was ten feet in the air. It landed against the ground with a metallic clatter, ringing throughout the echoey room. The force rebounded, swinging towards Leo’s face. Leo braced for impact, holding his forearms against his head for protection. He could feel the presence of the force mere centimeters from colliding with his cheek. 

 

It took a few moments, but through the huffs of breath and hazy vision, Leo peeked up to see his big brother reeling back, sweat glistening on his face. The force had been Raph’s fist. He nearly hit Leo.

 

Leo could feel Raph’s ragged breath on the top of his head. It reminded him of being thousands of feet in the air. Pink tentacles replacing his arms, eyes a highlighter yellow. He was a monster.

 

His brother had been a monster.

 

“Don’t start fights you can’t win,” His brother spat, voice much too quiet for the amount of venom within it. There was a growl in his voice that he hadn’t heard growing up, something much more monstrous than simply correcting. Leo could barely hear it over the sound of his beating heart.

 

What the fuck was that?

 

There was some shuffling in the corner of the room, and both brothers whipped around. Donnie stood there, cascaded in shadows, yet the bags under his eyes were prominent as ever. “CJ’s up,” He mumbled, right arm gripping onto his left.

 

Raph dropped his fist and Leo shook out his arms, uneasiness creeping over the brother’s shoulders. One thought lingered in his mind.

 

I don’t feel safe around him.

 

How fucked up is that, to not feel safe around your big brother? The guy who practically raised you? The worst part is that Leo knew it was his own fault. If he hadn’t pushed Raph, then the snapper wouldn’t have tried to hit him. If he hadn’t fucked up so royally, then his brother would still have sight in his eye. If I hadn’t been so awful, he wouldn’t have…whatever that is living inside him.

 

“I don’t know what I just walked in on, but whatever it is, cut it out in front of Mikey. He couldn’t take any more drama tonight.” Donnie’s eyes were narrow, which meant that he means business. Leo cleared his throat and shook away the warmth from his cheeks. Sometimes it surprised him still how levelheaded his twin could be, especially compared to how freaked out he was earlier.

 

Leo sighed, shouldering past his frozen big brother. “Come on, let’s go see Junior.”

 

In the med bay, CJ sat on the same bed Leo had been confined to not a week ago. Sweat glistened along his forehead, pieces of jet black hair sticking to his forehead. His pupils were wide, like he was surprised, but his eyes were lidded and his fingers still trembled in Cass’s grasp. April and Splinter stood off to the side, confusion across their faces, while Mikey just stared with wide eyes at the shaking boy on the table.

 

Donnie looked uneasy approaching CJ again, tapping his fingers along his arms. “All my tests are coming back inconclusive. He woke up in this…trance-like state. Not quite feverish, but certainly delirious.” He swallowed thickly, eyes not leaving CJ. “He keeps…mumbling. None of us can make it out.”

 

Leo drew closer reluctantly, the floor taunting him with a creak. He saw CJ’s lips move slightly, shaking with effort. The rest of the room fell silent as Leo leaned in, inches away from CJ’s breath. He was murmuring,

 

“The clan- save- trapped-”

 

“Whaaaat the fuck!” Leo pulled back, fear clouding his brain as he crashed into Donnie. 

 

“Leonardo! Do not swear,” His father scolded. Oh, he heard that but not the terrifying possession currently taking place?

 

The tremors in CJ’s hand increased, causing the chasm on Cass’s own face to deepen. “What is happening?!” She shouted, looking back at Donnie.

 

“I-I don’t know!” The softshell shouted back. “None of these symptoms logically make sense! This has to be a mystic thing!”

 

“Maybe we should call Drax?” Mikey piped up, neck hidden in the crooks of his shell. That offer drew a groan from almost everyone in the room, but no one was objecting.

 

Breaking them out of their silence, CJ let out a sharp cough, loud enough to make phantom pain shoot through Leo’s own throat. CJ curled in on himself, coughing with even more vigor, until Leo couldn’t take it. Reaching out, he placed a hand on CJ’s forearm.

 

Leo had been electrocuted before (thank you, Donnie). He remembered the feeling every time lightning struck, which always gave him a little shiver down his spine. This- whatever it was- felt like a thousand tiny volts coursing through his veins. Similar to his ninpo, except jarring and startlingly painful. White flashed through Leo’s vision as he stumbled back, hitting the wall with a harsh impact.

 

Leo felt himself slide down the wall, hitting the ground. Every injury from his recovering knee to the slightest papercut burned and singed, blinding him further.

 

‘Fuck, fuck, fuck-’ Rushed through Leo’s brain. His brain pounded in his skull, like a beast fighting the restraints of a cage. It felt like his entire body has been punched. Fight mode grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him, a bright red light flashing ‘DANGER, DANGER’ in his mind. But no matter how wildly Leo flung his hands, they never landed on his sword. In fact, he felt nothing at all, physically. The pain blurred into a numbness that spread across every nerve like an infection.

 

When his vision cleared- which did nothing to help his head- he saw something even more unexpected. He wasn’t the only one knocked to the floor. Raph sat on his knees, clutching his head, mask gripped between his fingers like it was his only saving grace. Donnie was doubled over the bed, looking more green than usual, eyes blown out wide, as if he remembered this feeling. Mikey remained standing, but barely. His legs and arms trembled with pain, tears visibly pricking his eyes. Splinter clasped his chest with his nails, his other arm shakingly supporting a pale looking April.

 

Thick silence hung in the air, something even Leo didn’t feel the strength to break. It felt like if he spoke, it would feel like screaming under water. He made contact with Raph, the snapper’s blind eye staring bullet wounds into Leo’s soul. Everyone felt it. The uncomfortable, painful shift.

 

“Okay, what the fuck was that?!”

 

Thank Supreme for Cass.