Endure Alone…or Together?

by Purpleandbluelove24

Summary:

After being kidnapped by a mysterious organization, the Hamato brothers are separated and experimented on—physically, mentally, and emotionally. Each is told the others are gone. But what their captors don’t realize is that the bond between these brothers is more powerful than any chain, any scalpel, any lie. This is a story of resilience, pain, and the love that holds them together even in the darkest depths.

Notes:

This is the first of five multi-chapter fics that I have in the works. This is the one that won my tumblr poll. I have done a fic where the turtles were kidnapped but this one is going to be different as it will featured all four brothers and they won't be together for probably like half of the fic as they find their way back to each other. I am very excited to be sharing this with you guys and I hope you enjoy it

Also, I did the warnings tags in there but this fic will contain unethical experimentation and tortue, so heads up

This fic is heavily inspired by artwork done on tumblr by @boxfullaturtles where the turtles are chained and experimented on

Chapter 1: The Capture

Summary:

Our story opens with tension, brotherly banter, and then descends into the dread that sets the tone for what’s to come.

The night air in New York was unusually still.

The city that never slept buzzed far beneath the rooftops, but up above, four brothers ran silent and swift. Leo led with a grin and a flourish of his swords, Donnie scanned their path with one eye on his wrist tablet, Mikey bounded alongside Leo with laughter in his step, and Raph brought up the rear—calm, steady, protective.

They were patrolling. Nothing out of the ordinary.

And that was the first sign something was wrong.

“No creepy yokai, no petty criminals, no ‘oh no the Krang are back’,” Leo muttered, lightly tapping his katana against his shoulder. “I’m starting to feel… neglected.”

“Would you like me to hack into a bank and set off a false alarm just so you feel important?” Donnie offered dryly.

“Tempting,” Leo replied, “but we all know you already did that two weeks ago and we barely made it out before the NYPD—”

“Shhh!” Raph suddenly snapped, his arm outstretched, halting them mid-rooftop.

The laughter died.

Mikey’s shoulders tensed. Donnie instantly tapped his tablet. Leo's smirk vanished.

And then—

A buzz in the air, like a charge crawling across the back of your neck—a shimmer—
—and the night exploded.

Figures in black armor emerged from seemingly nothing—cloaked in tech or mystic shielding, it didn’t matter. They were everywhere. Too many. Too fast.

“AMBUSH!” Leo shouted, drawing both swords in a blur of motion.

Mikey conjured a flaming mystic chain just in time to deflect a dart. Donnie tried to retreat for space to analyze—only to be grabbed from behind. Raph lunged into a pack of them, roaring, tossing enemies like dolls.

But they weren’t trying to kill. They were trying to capture.

And that made it worse.

Netting launched. Shackles clamped around limbs. Electric prods hissed with charged blue venom. Mikey screamed as a bolt hit his side, his mystic energy backfiring in wild flashes.

“MIKEY!” Leo dove toward him but was tackled mid-air, face smashing into the rooftop. Blood poured into his eye.

Donnie’s staff cracked against skulls. He turned just in time to see Leo pinned and Mikey struggling, then heard Raph’s roar cut short with a sickening crunch.

They were losing.

This wasn’t a fight—it was a hunt.

Donnie scrambled toward Leo, every instinct screaming to protect his twin. “Leo—Leo, I’m—!”

A blow to the back of his neck cut his words off.

He crumpled.

.

.

.

When Leo came to, it was with a metallic taste in his mouth and the slow, creeping realization that he was restrained.

His arms were pulled above his head, wrists bound. His shell ached.

He also realized that he had been striped down. His katanas were gone, his medical pouch was gone, even his beloved blue mask was missing around his face

But the worst part was that he was alone, his brothers no where in sight

Panic came next.

“Donnie?” he croaked.

Nothing.

“Mikey?!” he tried again, louder this time.

The only answer was the distant hum of electricity and the rattle of chains—not his, but someone else’s. Somewhere nearby. Or was that… a memory?

He couldn’t see much—only dim light overhead and shadows dancing on sterile walls.

“Raph…?”

His voice cracked.

That silence—that absence—hurt more than anything else.

He felt them. He should have. Like a chord suddenly snapped inside him.

They were gone.

He was alone.

.

.

.

Meanwhile, in another part of the facility, Donnie floated in and out of consciousness, glimpses of surgical tools and white-coats haunting every blink. Somewhere in his haze, he saw Leo’s face, bloody and dazed.

The panic and protective instincts kicked in, trying to see if he could find his twin

No such luck and what was worst was that he couldn't see Raph or Mikey either

Donnie was alone

He tired calling out for his brothers, but when he tried to speak, cold hands pulled him under again.

“Don’t fight us,” someone said softly. “You’ll only make it worse.”

.

.

.

Mikey cried out, suspended in midair, wires probing at his plastron, his mystic energy sparking and sputtering in involuntary bursts. He sobbed for Leo. For Raph. For Donnie. For anyone. He just wanted his big brothers

But the voice was calm.

“You will save so many lives, Michelangelo. If we work together.”

And Mikey—sweet, trusting, terrified Mikey—couldn’t even tell if it was a dream.

.

.

.

Raph roared against his chains, teeth gnashing into a metal muzzle as he pushed against every restraint, hoping that his strength would be enough to break it

“You have such power,” a voice whispered. “So much potential. You could protect us all.”

All he wanted was to find his little brothers.

All he could do was break.

.

.

.

Back in the dark, Leo whispered to himself:

“I’ll find you… I’ll find you all. Don't give up bros"

A tear slipped down his face

"I love you"

He didn’t know who was still alive.

But they were brothers.

They always came back to each other, no matter what

And that meant he had to believe.

Notes:

This is only just the beginning. Things will get worst from here...much worst. Prepare for angst!

This will be a long one and I should have Chapter 2 posted soon

Chapter 2: The Compliance Protocol

Summary:

Our first brother is Donnie, where we see him chained down, manipulated, and isolated from his brothers. This chapter builds on psychological torture and tension, highlighting Donnie's desperate hold on hope and that he will see his brothers again

Notes:

With this fic, I will be going back and forth between all four brothers, with each one getting their own chapter until later on

Hope you enjoy the first Donnie chapter

Donnie awoke to the taste of metal and the cold bite of restraints.

The air was sterile—too clean, too artificial. His back ached from the awkward position they’d twisted him into. Arms pulled behind him. Neck tilted at an unnatural angle. Legs bound, stretched, splayed. It took a moment to register the pressure on his plastron.

Chains.

Then came the sound.

A calm, clinical voice—not a monster's growl, not the cackling of an enemy, but the smooth monotone of someone who thought this was routine.

“If you would just listen…”

A gloved hand reached out to adjust something on his head. Donnie flinched, baring his teeth, and the chain at his neck snapped taut.

He was being puppeted.

His eyes flew open, vision still blurry from whatever sedative they’d pumped into him. He thrashed once—instinct—but the restraints barely gave. His tech gear was gone. His bo staff? Stripped. They even took off his battle shell, leaving just his softshell. The weight of emptiness on his back made him feel naked.

Exposed

“If you would just cooperate,” the voice continued, utterly unbothered by his panic. “We could help each other.”

Donnie's heart pounded. He twisted his head to find the speaker, but the room was too bright, too white, too angled. Everything blurred. The only thing he could focus on were hands—gloved ones, bare ones, mechanical ones—pulling, adjusting, forcing.

They kept repeating the same lines.

“You’re brilliant, Donatello.”
“You don’t have to fight us.”
“We admire your mind.”
“Why throw it all away when we could create something greater?”

Donnie snarled. “Where… are my brothers?”

A pause.

And then, chillingly soft:

“Gone.”

 

For a moment, time stopped.

The pressure in his chest bloomed outward like a spreading bruise. His breath hitched.

“No,” he whispered, trying to shake the words out of his head. “No, no, no, that’s a lie—you’re lying—you’re always lying.”

“It doesn’t have to be like this. We want to work with you, Donatello.”

The voice was close now. Right in his ear.

“We know your mind never stops. That you’ve always protected them. Kept them safe. But they’re not here anymore because you failed to protect them and keep them safe. But you are still here. With us. And you can still help.”

Something snapped in his brain. Maybe what they were saying was true. He couldn't even feel his brothers' ninpo anymore. Could they truly be...?

No...

Donnie roared in defiance, slamming his shoulder into the chain despite the blinding pain.

“Liar!” he screamed. “My brothers are alive! Leo is alive! Mikey is alive! Raph is—he’s—” His voice cracked, broken.

Silence.

Then cold hands pried his jaw open. A mouthpiece was forced in, locking his words behind plastic and restraint. His voice reduced to muffled noise.

They’d silenced him.

.

.

.

They left him like that for hours. Maybe days.

Time lost meaning when you couldn’t move, couldn’t speak, couldn’t think without agony.

But Donnie counted.

He counted the seconds between blinks.

He timed how long it took before the buzz of the machines rose and fell.

He calculated every variable, every pressure point in the restraints.

And in the silence, he whispered their names in his mind, tears occassionally falling down his face.

Nardo. Raphie. Angelo.

He pictured Leo’s cocky grin, Mikey’s laughter, Raph’s solid presence beside him.

Even if they were gone… they lived in his memory.

He wouldn’t forget.

He couldn’t.

.

.

.

They came again eventually.

This time with something different—straps across his head, wires connected to a headset that clamped to his temples.

He couldn’t move. He couldn’t scream.

The voice returned, honey-sweet and venom-laced:

“Lend us your mind, Donatello. Let us see what you’ve built.”

A machine behind him whirred to life. He felt it before it started—the electric warmth in his skull, the tightening in his jaw.

They were trying to extract ideas.

His inventions.

His tech.

His life's work

His purpose

His reason for being

Every instinct screamed at him to resist.

He gritted his teeth until his gums ached. Thought only of static. Replaced equations with random numbers. Imagined Mikey painting in the lair. Heard Raph humming softly as he lifted weights.

Focused on Leo, his beloved twin, saying, “Don’t let them win, Dee.”

“Give us your strength,” the voice insisted, tightening the probe.

Donnie shook his head against the clamps.

Tears slipped from the corners of his eyes, unnoticed by the machines.

But he didn’t give them anything.

.

.

.

When the headset finally powered down, the voice sounded disappointed.

“Why must you be so selfish?”

Donnie wanted to laugh. To choke on it. To scream behind his mouthpiece: “Because my mind belongs to them. To my brothers, the three people who I love the most. Not to you.”

Instead, he slumped against his restraints, half-conscious, praying that somewhere—anywhere—his brothers were still out there.

Praying that they were alive and still fighting

And praying that they still remembered him

Notes:

Next chapter will move to Leo and will see how he is holding up

Chapter 3: Echoes in the Dark

Summary:

This chapter focuses on Leo's isolation, drawing out his slow unraveling, the absence of his brothers, and the mental torment used to break him. This chapter will lean heavily into dread, guilt, and Leo’s inner battle to hold on to hope.

Notes:

Let's see how the other twin is doing as we look into how Leo is handling being separated and isolated from his brothers

When Leo woke again, it was to silence.

No chains. No cold metal biting into his skin. No machines whirring around him.

Just stillness.

Too still.

His hands weren’t bound anymore, but that didn’t bring comfort. Not when he realized there were no visible doors. No lights aside from the pale blue glow bleeding from cracks in the walls. The floor was padded. Soundproofed. His katanas were gone. His mask stripped away.

A prison in every way that mattered.

He sat up slowly, every muscle sore. His head pounded, memories foggy from whatever they'd injected into him earlier. The last thing he remembered clearly was—

“Donnie,” Leo breathed as he thought about his last moments of seeing his twin.

And then—Mikey’s scream.

And then—Raph didn’t get up.

The silence pressed in, louder than anything he’d ever heard. He staggered to his feet, heart thudding painfully in his chest.

“HELLO?!?” he shouted.

His voice bounced off the walls and fell flat. No response. No echo.

Like he didn’t even exist in here.

 

Time passed—measured only in hunger, thirst, and the ache in his bones. He tried pacing. He tried meditating. He even tried talking to the walls just to hear something. Anything.

“Alright,” he muttered after what had to be hours, “this is just some weird training simulation. Raph's gonna bust through that wall any minute. Mikey’s gonna call this a prank. Donnie’s gonna explain the psychological breakdown effects of sensory deprivation.”

He laughed.

It cracked at the edges.

“...Guys?”

No one answered.

 

Later—days later?—a screen flickered to life on the far wall.

Leo scrambled toward it, breath catching.

His heart stopped when he saw Donnie’s face.

He looked… vacant. Hooked up to wires. Surrounded by glowing panels. Silent. Unmoving.

Leo's blood ran cold. “Donnie?”

The screen shifted.

Mikey. Bound. Crying. Tubes in his arms. Wires drawing energy from his glowing hands.

Big brother protective instincts were starting to go into overdrive. Now Leo knew how Raph felt

Speaking of Raph...

His big brother was muzzled. Restrained. Twitching with fury. His shoulders heaving in fury and exhaustion.

All of his brothers were alive. They were hurt and restrained, sure, but still alive...or maybe alive at one point

And then—

Static

The screen went black.

Leo screamed. Slammed his fists into the wall. Pounded until his knuckles bled.

“No, no, NO! Donnie—Mikey—Raph—!”

They were alive. Or… they had been.

Why show him?

Why now?

The answer came moments later.

The screen lit up again—this time with himself. A recording.

He was laughing. Cocky. Shrugging off danger. Saying something flippant during a past mission:

“Don’t worry, I’ve got this! I always do!”

The clip cut—replayed—cut—replayed.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got this!”

“I’ve got this!”

“Got this!”

His own voice, echoing again and again until it felt like a mockery.

Then a new voice—calm, patronizing:

“You always thought you were the leader.”

“But you let them fall.”

Leo backed away from the screen, chest heaving.

“No,” he whispered. “That’s not true.”

The new voice continued

“If you’d been better—”

“If you’d made better choices—”

“If you hadn’t hesitated—”

“They’d still be safe.”

Leo dropped to his knees.

The voice, the screen, the silence—none of it stopped. Just pressed closer and closer, until it filled his mind like a weight.

He wanted to scream again, but it wouldn’t come out. The guilt choked him.

Donnie begging him to stay in formation.

Mikey asking if they should retreat.

Raph yelling, “Leo, now!”

And Leo—always dancing ahead, always rushing forward, always trying to be the hero.

What if they were gone because of him?

 

But in the darkness, he remembered something else.

A moment, quiet, recent:

Donnie leaning against him during a late-night movie, mumbling, “You always act like you’ve got it together, but I see you trying too hard.”

Mikey laughing, “You’re not perfect, Leo, but you’re ours. And that's enough for us”

Raph clapping a hand on his shell: “You’re not alone, bro. Anatawa hitorijani”

He pressed those memories into his heart like armor.

 

Later, as the screen faded again and the silence returned, Leo sat with his back to the wall, fingers tracing invisible lines on the floor.

He began to tap softly.

One for Donnie.

One for Mikey.

One for Raph.

A pattern.

A code.

A hope.

If they were still out there—any of them—they’d know he was still here. Still fighting.

Still believing.

Notes:

Don't give up hope Leo. Remember, hope is a ninja's greatest weapon

Next chapter will move to Mikey

Chapter 4: The Light They Steal

Summary:

We get our first look at Mikey and see how he is handling being away from his older brothers. This chapter focuses on emotional manipulation, Mikey's fading self-worth, and the small ember of hope he still clings to—his family.

Notes:

And now we move on to Mikey! This little guy is going to be going through it. The mysterious people who took them will be focusing on extrating Mikey's mystical energy since he is the one who has the most of it

Hope you guys enjoy!

He used to love the color orange.

Bright, warm, energetic—him in a shade. It always reminded Mikey of sunrises. Of hope.

But now, orange just hurt.

It glowed from the wires embedded in his arms. It pulsed from the tubes twisting around his plastron and carapace. It flickered in every rhythm of his stolen mystic power.

And he couldn’t stop it.

He tried.

Gosh did he tried.

But every time he resisted, the pain returned—blinding and electric, shooting through his nerves like white-hot fire. Every outburst from his magic triggered another withdrawal. Another clamp. Another apology from the voice that haunted this place.

“You will save so many lives, Michelangelo… if we work together.”

He didn’t want to save strangers.

He wanted his big brothers.

 

Mikey had screamed and cried for them until his throat gave out.

Leon. Dee. Raphie

Someone—anyone.

But all that came back was that voice. Warm. Reassuring. Like it thought this was good.

“You’re doing great, Mikey.”
“You’re helping us make something beautiful.”
“This is your gift.”

He used to love being called gifted.

Now it felt like a curse.

 

He was shackled on his side, curled in as much of a ball as the restraints allowed. Tubes pierced into the soft grooves between his scales, drawing a constant stream of glowing mystic energy into reservoirs overhead. His hands were wrapped tight in glowing cuffs that tingled every few seconds—a warning not to try casting again.

The first time he had, they hurt him.

The second time… he hurt himself.

The power surged too fast. Out of control. He nearly burned through the restraints—but not before they activated the failsafe and sent volts of pain straight through his nervous system. His screams lasted longer than the magic did.

“It’s okay to be afraid,” they’d said gently. “We’re here to guide you.”

“We’ll make sure your powers don’t go to waste.”

“You’re being so brave, Michelangelo.”

He didn’t feel brave.

He felt empty.

 

Time passed like mist—blurry, weightless. He drifted in and out, sometimes jolting awake from dreams of home. Sometimes reliving the worst parts of the ambush over and over again.

He saw Leo’s panicked expression, screaming his name.

Donnie reaching out with a shaking hand.

Raph throwing himself in front of him—always in front of him.

He tried not to cry, but tears still came.

Silently, hotly, ashamed.

“D-Donnie…” he whispered one night, broken and hoarse. “Y-you’re smarter than them… you’ll find me, right?”

His voice cracked, too raw to go any further.

 

That night, something changed.

The tubes blinked off briefly—maintenance? A power shift?

And for just a few seconds… he could feel it.

That flicker.

That tether.

A heartbeat.

Faint. Distant.

A rhythmic tap he felt through the floor.

One. One-two. One-two-three.

A pattern.

Familiar.

Leo’s pattern.

He froze.

His tears didn’t stop, but now they carried something different.

Hope.

He tapped back, as best he could—just his foot against the metal floor.

One. One. Pause. One.

A reply.

His breath hitched. “You’re alive,” he sobbed.

They were still alive. Or at least Leo was still alive

He didn’t know how. Or where. Or what had become of them. But somewhere, somewhere, Leo was still fighting.

And if Leo was still fighting—

Then so would he.

Because Mikey was Leo's biggest believer and had always looked up to the red-eared slider since they were tots

Leo was Mikey's hero and he knew that Leo probably had a plan to get out

Mikey just had to hold on to that hope

 

Mikey closed his eyes.

He let the glow in his arms rise, but not in rebellion. Not in panic.

He guided it inward. Let it pool beneath his ribs. Let it warm his chest.

A secret fire.

Something they couldn’t take.

Not this time.

Not ever again.

Notes:

One more brother to go

Next chapter, we will check in on Raph

Chapter 5: The Beast Beneath The Skin

Summary:

This chapter explores the toll of Raph's physical restraint, emotional isolation, and the slow, terrifying emergence of Savage Raph as a manifestation of his desperation to protect his family—even when he doesn’t know if they’re still alive.

Notes:

And now we finally check in on the last brother. Ladies and gentlemen, the one and only Raphael Hamato. We all know how Raph gets when he is alone and separated from his brothers. Can he keep Savage Raph under control?

Let's find out

Raph had always been the strong one.

The shield. The anchor. The big brother.

But even shields crack when you bend them long enough.

 

He woke restrained.

Arms above his head, ankles bolted to the floor, shell immobilized by a curved iron brace. A metal muzzle dug into his snout, locking his jaw shut. The room was dim and wide, almost like a padded cell. Almost.

But not soft enough to muffle his rage.

He had no idea how long he’d been down there.

They didn’t speak to him like they did the others. No honeyed words, no coaxing tones. No promises of peace.

They didn’t try to win Raph over.

They just tried to break him.

 

His first day conscious, he roared so loud that the walls vibrated.

It hurt—his throat raw, his body convulsing with effort—but he needed to be heard. To make noise. To fight.

They responded by tightening the chains.

Injected him with something cold.

The next time he woke, he could barely lift his head.

 

Time blurred after that.

They’d come in, adjust his restraints, take notes. Sometimes scan him, sometimes prick him with needles to monitor his mutagen levels. Sometimes they just… watched him.

Like he was a specimen.

A beast.

Raph growled through the muzzle every time.

They didn’t care.

He didn’t know where his brothers were.

He didn’t know if they were even alive.

But every second he was awake, his thoughts circled the same three names that he loved and adored so much.

Donnie. Mikey. Leo.

His little brothers...his baby brothers

Where are they? What are they doing to you? Why isn’t it me instead?

I was supposed to protect you...and I failed

The guilt hollowed him out.

 

One day, they brought in a screen. Just like they did with Leo.

They showed him clips. Flashes. Shadows.

Mikey, crying.
Donnie, restrained, twitching.
Leo, silent, eyes deadened.

His little brothers were alive...but they were also in so much pain. Pain that could have all been avoided if Raph was there to protect them. To shield them from the horrors that had been wrongly given to them

Then, the unknown people who had kidnapped them spoke.

“They’re alive because you’re strong.”

“But how long do you think that will last?”

Raph’s pulse thundered.

He strained against his restraints, foam building at the edges of the muzzle. The metal scraped against his teeth. He could feel his vision flickering red, his skin crawling.

He didn’t just want to break out.

He needed to. He needed to find his little brothers

The next time the guards entered, he snapped.

 

A roar tore from his chest, deep and guttural.

His body surged forward—farther than he ever had before.

One of the chains snapped.

Alarms blared. Sedative darts flew toward him. He barely felt them.

His muscles bulged, veins glowing faint green, his red mystic energy flowing through him. His eyes shone, unfocused.

“Get it under control!” someone screamed.

“He’s shifting—he’s mutating again—”

Raph felt the bones in his hands pulse and crack. His shell flexed. His mind—fractured.

And in the space that opened, something else bled through.

Not entirely him, but also not entirely not him.

Savage Raph.

The part of him he always kept caged.

The part that didn’t think—only protected.

Only fought and destroyed

He broke two more restraints before they overloaded the muzzle with volts. He collapsed, twitching.

 

When he woke again, he was strapped to the floor. This time flat on his back. Full-body restraints. Injectors lining his limbs. The muzzle now fed a slow-drip sedative.

He couldn’t move.

He couldn’t speak.

But he could think.

He wasn’t sure how long he had left before he lost control again. Before Savage Raph took over completely.

He couldn’t let that happen.

Because if his brothers were still alive… they’d need him.

Not the monster.

Raph the big brother.

Raph the protector.

Raph the shield.

Even if his body was failing him.

Even if his strength was being turned against him.

He had to hold on.

 

He closed his eyes and thought of Mikey’s laugh.

He thought about Donnie's focus.

He thought about Leo's reckless, infuriating grin.

He breathed through his nose, slow and steady. Counted each breath.

And when a soft, almost imperceptible tap came through the floor—

One. One-two. One-two-three.

His eyes snapped open.

Leo.

He couldn’t move, couldn’t reply—not like this. But he pressed his fingers into the floor as hard as the restraints would allow.

His pulse steadied.

His heart beat out a message of its own.

Still here.

Still fighting.

Don’t give up on me yet.

Notes:

So now that we have catch up on all of the brothers, we will move back to Donnie as he undergoes his own form of torture

Chapter 6: Fractured Frequencies

Summary:

We return to Donnie as he undergoes another mind extraction session, exhausted and unraveling. The chapter will focus heavily on his grief, loneliness, and eventual spark of hope as he becomes the last to hear Leo’s tapping, and—more importantly—feel their twin bond again, faint but real.

Meanwhile, the people who kidnapped the turtles start to notice brothers' resistance and realize that they need to up thier tactics if they want to keep these turtles isolated

Notes:

I am back from my weekend vacation, which means that I am back to update my fics. This chapter will be longer then normal, as my way of saying thanks for waiting and for you guys patience

Hope you guys enjoy!!!

It was happening again.

The clamps snapped into place around Donnie’s head like teeth. His arms, still aching from earlier restraints, were forced down into metal braces. His legs buckled under the pressure but were locked straight. His plastron pressed into a cold slab of reinforced alloy.

“Beginning Phase Two: deeper access,” a voice droned above him. “Lower resistance expected.”

They had no idea how wrong they were.

Donnie was resisting more than ever. Not just with his body, but with his mind.

But he was so tired.

The machine overhead buzzed, its claw-like needles descending toward his scalp.

Donnie clenched his jaw and braced himself.

He refused to give them anything.

Not his blueprints.
Not his weapon designs.
Not his thoughts.
Not his family.

Not his home

 

Pain lanced through his skull.

A scream ripped from his throat before he could stop it. His whole body arched upward, eyes wide, breath catching mid-shudder. It wasn’t just electricity—it was something deeper. A wrenching, dragging sensation, like they were trying to scoop out pieces of his mind.

He saw flashes.

Images.

Unwanted projections of home.

The lab.
His battle shell.
Raph hugging Mikey.
Leo—grinning, cocky, warm.

Then they twisted the image.

Donnie saw Leo lying still. Bloody. Gone.

“NO!” he screamed. “NO! You don’t get to show me that!”

But the machine didn’t care.

The voice didn’t care.

“You’re still protecting them,” it said smoothly. “Even now. Admirable… but exhausting, isn’t it?”

He wanted to bite back—but his vision swam. The lights blurred. Everything was wrong.

He didn’t even realize he was crying until the tears shorted out one of the headset sensors.

The machine screeched.

The session ended prematurely.

They pulled the device off and left him half-conscious, body convulsing, face damp and burning with salt.

 

They dragged him back to his cell and dumped him like garbage.

He didn’t move.

He couldn’t move.

His limbs twitched from residual current. His head throbbed. His pulse stuttered. His mind felt frayed, thinned, like a spiderweb stretched too far.

But worst of all was the silence.

He had no voice left to scream with. No tech left to build with. No big brother to hug him. No baby brother to uplift his spirits with his sunshine personality. No twin to ground him.

Donnie curled on his side, trembling, burying his face in his elbow as the sobs took over.

He didn’t cry loud. It wasn’t the kind of sobbing that echoed.

It was the kind you buried in your bones.

He wanted to be brave. To be clever. To be Donatello—the brother who always had a plan.

But all he could think was:

I miss them.

I miss Raphie

I miss Angelo

I miss Nardo

Please…

He squeezed his eyes shut and cried out.

“Nardo… if you’re out there… I need you. Please. I can’t— I can’t do this alone.”

 

And then—

Something.

A whisper.

Not in his ears.

In his chest.

Faint. So faint he thought he imagined it.

One tap.

Two.

Three.

Donnie froze.

His breath hitched.

He pressed his cheek to the cold floor and closed his eyes again, straining, pleading.

And then—

One-two-three. Pause. One.

His heart stopped.

Leo.

He didn’t know how he knew. It wasn’t logical. It wasn’t scientific.

It was twin instinct.

Their bond—tattered and ghost-thin—still shimmered at the edge of everything.

He pressed his hand flat to the floor.

“Leo?” he whispered, voice like glass. “Is that you…?”

He focused on the pressure in his chest. The echo. The heartbeat he knew better than his own.

And for the first time in what felt like forever—He felt it pulse back.

Like a hand reaching through the dark.

Donnie broke. Tears streamed again—but not in grief.

He cried in relief.

Because Leo was alive.

Because he was trying.

Because even if the bond was frayed and dim… it wasn’t gone.

And Donnie—weaponless, broken, and bruised—felt something fierce spark beneath his skin.

Hope.

.

.

.

The observation chamber was silent—save for the low hum of data scrolling across multiple screens. The figures in the room wore neutral gray. Faces hidden by biometric visors. Expressions stripped down to numbers and results.

Until one of them, finally, spoke.

“Donatello resisted the full extraction again.”

A clipped tone. No surprise. Just data.

The head researcher leaned in, adjusting the display. Donatello’s vitals—elevated, erratic—blipped in angry red.

“Subject shows signs of neural strain. Brainwave shielding is adapting faster than projected. Emotional override continues to disrupt deep-mind access.”

Someone else piped in from the left monitor.

          “He is intentionally flooding himself with high-intensity memories. Strong emotional stimuli—likely linked to sibling bonds. It’s interfering with the retrieval vectors.”

“Apply another dose of subduing agent?”

“No. It’s not working anymore. Every time we escalate pain input, neural resistance increases.”

The room went quiet.

They didn’t understand it.

Pain was supposed to weaken.

Isolation was supposed to fracture.

But it wasn’t working.

Not like it was supposed to.

 

Another screen flickered on—live feed from Leonardo’s chamber.

He was meditating again. Knees crossed. Head bowed. Hands pressed lightly to the floor.

They had stripped him of everything—light, color, sound, contact. And yet he persisted. What was worst was that he appeared to be syncing to something.

Or maybe someone

“His vitals are spiking in tandem with Michelangelo and Donatello. All three sets of brainwave patterns show concurrent rhythmic activity.”

A pause.

“He’s reaching them.”

The head researcher narrowed their eyes.

“Not possible. There’s over thirty meters of reinforced alloy and arcane nullifiers between them.”

“And yet…”

One of the techs hesitated before enlarging a pulse scan.

Leonardo’s taps on the floor.
Michelangelo’s shifting pulse.
Donatello’s cranial activity spike.

Three readings. All timed.

All syncing.

“It’s not mystic-based,” another researcher said, voice sharper now. “It’s something older. More instinctual.”

          “Familial.”

           “Primal.”

           “Dangerous.”

 

Then came the worst feed.

Subject 001-A: Raphael.

Still restrained. Still sedated. But his mutagen readings were climbing.

“He’s cycling toward another transformation,” someone warned. “That last one nearly destroyed the room. We can’t risk another Savage emergence.”

          “His psychic tether is stabilizing too. He felt Leonardo. We’re seeing it now—right here.”

A screen zoomed in on the fine muscle twitches in Raph’s fingers. The way his hand flexed ever so slightly against the floor restraint—trying to tap back.

 

The room fell completely silent.

One of the senior techs stepped forward, face pale behind the visor.

“We’ve pushed them beyond tolerance thresholds. Removed all environmental reinforcements. Bombarded them with grief, guilt, agony—and they’re still… reaching for each other.”

         “They should be broken.”

A long pause.

Then, grimly:

“Maybe they don’t break the way we do.”

 

The head researcher turned away from the monitors.

Their voice was low. Measured.

“Prepare Phase Three. Escalate isolation. Cut all cross-chamber wave access. Reinforce mystic suppression. Activate blackout protocols.”

          “And if that fails?” someone asked hesitantly.

The lead’s jaw clenched.

“Then we separate them permanently.”

Notes:

Let's see if the researchers' plans will succeed

Chapter 7: Cartography of Hope

Summary:

Leo, now newly strengthened by the faint but steady presence of his brothers, begins to fight smarter—sensing the bond with Donnie in particular. As the captors tighten control, Leo begins to lay the mental groundwork for escape.

Notes:

Now we are back to Leo. Let's see how the leader plans out their escape

Leo sat still in the center of his cell.

Eyes closed. Breathing steady. One hand pressed to the floor.

He couldn’t see his brothers. He couldn’t hear them. But he felt them.

Faint. Flickering. Like distant stars trying to outshine a storm.

He wasn’t sure when it had started—when the phantom pressure in his chest had turned into certainty. First Mikey’s tap. Then the sudden thrum of energy. And now, something… deeper.

Something sharper.

Donnie.

It wasn't just a heartbeat—it was an echo in the back of his mind. A scratch of static through a busted speaker. Not words. Not thoughts. Just presence.

But that was enough.

Leo’s hand curled into a fist against the floor.

He was done waiting.

 

The room had changed. He noticed it immediately.

The lights were dimmer now. No more screen. No more “messages.” The walls had thickened—he could feel it. A subtle hum of suppression. Like the air had been filtered of meaning.

They were trying to shut him off.

Too late.

His brothers were alive.

They’d reached him.

And now—he was going to reach back.

 

Leo stood, ignoring the ache in his legs, the hunger in his gut. He began pacing his cell. Slowly. Purposefully. Counting steps. Estimating length. Wall thickness. Floor resonance.

“Let’s see,” he whispered to himself, “sixteen steps wide, twenty-three long. Sound delay: 10 seconds from tap to echo. Reinforced alloy, maybe three inches thick. Underground, judging by the pressure shift in my ears…”

His muttering was quiet. Methodical.

Not panic. Not desperation.

Strategy.

Leo pressed his ear to the wall and tapped three times in rapid succession.

Silence.

He tried again.

Still nothing.

They’d reinforced the barriers.

But the bond—The bond was internal.

He closed his eyes and reached inward.

Focused on the feel of Donnie’s energy—subtle, electric, humming at the base of his skull like the pre-spark of teleportation. Their ninpo had always reacted stronger when they were together.

This was different.

Faint. Weak.

But still real.

 

“Donnie…”

He thought it, not said it.

Projected it the way they sometimes did mid-fight—when words were too slow and danger was too close.

He didn’t know if it would work.

Didn’t care.

“Don, I know you’re out there. I know you’re hurting. I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you… but I’m not leaving you behind. I would never ever leave you behind. Disaster twins for life”

He pressed both palms to the floor.

“Just...hold on to me. Hold on for me. Just a little longer.”

 

Somewhere deep within, he felt something stir in response.

Not speech.

Not images.

But a flicker of warmth, of static tension. Familiar. Intelligent.

Donnie.

He was trying, too.

The feedback jolted Leo with adrenaline.

They were close.

Closer than they thought.

Leo exhaled, shaking. His legs nearly buckled with the relief.

But then—the cell lights snapped off.

Darkness.

Not just visual—but complete. Soundless. Temperatureless. Even the distant hum of the walls vanished.

Sensory blackout.

Leo’s body locked up.

He knew what this was. Psychological destabilization. Breakdown by deprivation.

But they were late.

He had his brothers now.

Even if he couldn’t hear them.

Even if he couldn’t see them.

He felt them.

He crouched to the floor again. Closed his eyes.

Tap.
Tap-tap.
Tap.

A rhythm. A call sign. Their sign.

And in his heart, he hoped they were doing the same.

 

In a hidden corridor behind his cell, the guards watched.

“He’s mapping the room.”

“Is he trying to communicate again?”

“No. He’s anchoring. Creating a behavioral loop. That’s planning.”

They increased the nullifier signal.

But Leo didn’t stop.

 

Somewhere beneath them, in four separate cells, the heartbeats of brothers began to sync.

Not in perfect time.

Not strong yet.

But unbreakable.

Notes:

Leo is making progress

Next chapter will shift back to Mikey

Chapter 8: Burn Brighter

Summary:

This chapter focuses on Mikey rising from despair with renewed purpose, using the only thing he still has control over: his mystic power. Knowing now that Leo is alive and reaching for him, Mikey begins to fight back — quietly, carefully, and with everything he has left.

Notes:

We shift back to Mikey and see how he is doing knowing that Leo is trying to reach him

Sorry this chapter is coming out later then I wanted to. Summer vacation is over and now I have to go back to the grind, but I was able to squeeze this chapter in so I hope you guys enjoy!

Mikey didn’t remember falling asleep, but he woke with tears on his face and a spark in his chest.

He knew what it was before he opened his eyes.

Leo.

That echo—distant and muffled like the thump of bass through a wall—had returned during the night. A warmth curled in his ribs like a lazy flame. For the first time in days, he wasn’t afraid to feel it.

His big brother was out there.

And he knew.

He believed.

 

The tubes were still in place. Glowing orange, thrumming softly as they siphoned mystic energy from his veins. The cuffs around his wrists pulsed once every ten seconds, each beat a reminder not to try anything stupid.

They thought they had him pacified.

That the youngest brother was too soft.

That he would break the easiest.

They were wrong.

 

The idea came quietly, during one of the extraction pulses.

The mystic energy flowed out of him in a rhythm — gentle, efficient, mechanical.

But what if he changed the flow?

Not all at once.

Not enough to raise alarms.

Just… a pulse. A hiccup. A change in pressure. Something to strain the system from inside.

He flexed the fingers on his right hand. Let his energy dip, then spike. Just a little.

The tubes flickered.

He felt the restraints respond — the cuffs tightening briefly, then resetting.

“Okay,” he whispered to himself. “That’s one.”

 

The next time, he changed his breathing. Synced his exhale to his mystic core and let it pulse deliberately—just enough to create tension in the flow.

The tubes hissed. Glowed too bright.

He winced. Bit down a cry.

The cuffs shocked him. Not a punishment—just a correction.

He let the energy fall back into its steady rhythm.

 

Mikey thought of Donnie's montone voice that somehow soothe his nerve. Of Leo bositerous laugh that always seem to light up a room. Of Raph’s steady strength that held him together when he fell apart.

He missed them.

But now, with Leo’s presence like a heartbeat inside his chest, Mikey felt them again.

And that was enough to make the fear burn away.

 

They came into his chamber a few hours later—clipped, clinical, checking vitals.

“Subject 003 shows mystic overactivity,” one said.

“Energy spikes traced to internal reflex. Potential reaction to isolation fatigue?”

“Reduce output. Increase suppression pulse by 3%.”

Mikey didn’t move.

Didn’t blink.

He let them think he was passive.

Let them walk away.

And then—he pushed.

A full wave of power, funneled from his core into the tubes—not too fast, but too rich, too unstable. The extraction mechanism hummed warning tones. The lights above flickered.

Mikey exhaled through gritted teeth as pain sparked along his arms.

But the glow stayed.

Brighter.

Stronger.

Cracked at the edges.

He let it surge just long enough to scar the flow.

Then pulled back.

 

He collapsed back into his restraints, chest heaving.

“Just a little more,” he whispered.

“Donnie, Leo, Raph… hold on.”

 

They’d underestimated him.

Mikey had always been the heart.

But now—he was the fuse.

And if they pushed him any harder…He’d light the whole place up.

Notes:

Mikey making his own bit of progress

Next chapter will focus on Raph and how he continues to hold Savage Raph at bay

I will try to update this fic as much as I can but it might have to be a once a week situation now, or maybe once every two week, depending on my schedule. I'm writing four other fics and trying to balance a work schedule so we shall see

Chapter 9: Crack The Shell

Summary:

This chapter focuses on Raph, who—deep in isolation—begins to feel the rising tide of tension across his brothers. Mikey’s mystic energy, Leo’s anchor, and Donnie’s mental resistance all ripple toward him… and it stirs something dangerous. Now Raph must wrestle with the beast within—Savage Raph—as the pressure builds.

Notes:

We move back to Raph and see how he is handling Savage Raph. Can he keep it under control?

Raph had always been the strong one.

But strength… didn’t mean invincible.

Not when your brothers were hurting.

Not when you were chained to the floor, unable to help them.

Not when the thing inside you—the monster—kept clawing up your throat, begging to be let out.

 

The cuffs were tighter now.

Double-reinforced restraints at every limb. High-voltage sedative lines embedded directly into his veins. Even his shell had been rigged with shock sensors.

He knew why they did it

They were afraid of him

Not because of what he’d done.

But because of what he might become.

 

He could feel it.

Not just in his body—but in the air.

Something had changed.

The floor beneath him vibrated faintly. A rhythm. A pulse.

Mikey.

The youngest’s energy had always been light, vibrant—but now it burned. Fierce. Wild.

Raph could feel the surges in his own bloodstream, like mystic static clinging to his skin.

“Kid’s fighting back,” Raph muttered hoarsely, voice barely audible through the muzzle. “Proud of you, Mikey…”

Then the pressure shifted again—another pulse.

This one electric. Focused. Sharp.

Donnie.

Whatever they were doing to him, he was resisting.

That should’ve given Raph strength.

Instead, it made the monster stir.

 

Savage Raph didn’t think in words.

He felt.

He wanted.

He reacted.

The part of Raph that was kind, patient, protective—it frayed more with every passing moment. The longer he lay there, helpless and unable to shield the others, the louder the thing inside him screamed.

He squeezed his eyes shut.

“No. Not now. Not like this.” he mumbled to himself, begging and praying for the monster within to stay bury

But his body trembled. Veins pulsing green. Muzzle creaking under clenched teeth.

He couldn’t protect them if he lost control.

He couldn’t become what the captors thought he already was.

 

“Heart rate spike,” a voice buzzed from a speaker overhead.

“Mutagen levels rising.” came another voice

“Savage regression probability at 63%.” a third voice added

“Sedate him again.” a cold voice spoke, probably the head scientist

Cold flooded into his bloodstream.

He growled—low and deep—but didn’t thrash.

Not yet.

Instead, he focused.

He thought of their names.

Leo, steady and stubborn, always trying to do too much alone.

Mikey, creative and chaotic, full of fire now.

Donnie, stubborn genius, mind sharper than any weapon.

They were all resisting.

And he was stuck here, caged like a monster, helpless to stop it.

His eyes burned. Rage or grief, he couldn’t tell.

Maybe both.

“I’m not the one who needs protecting this time,” he muttered into the muzzle. “You guys are doin’ that for me.”

 

Then—

It hit him.

Not mystic.

Not electric.

Not mental.

Something deeper.

Leo.

A pull.

Like a tether.

It didn't come with words or noise, but pressure—firm, grounding, unbreakable.

Raph gasped through clenched teeth.

The thing inside him paused.

Not gone—but listening.

Leo was reaching out.

“You still in there, Raph?” the pressure seemed to ask. “I need you.”

“Not to fight.”

“Not to break out.”

“Just to hold on.”

 

And for once, Raph didn’t try to roar.

Didn’t fight.

He breathed.

The first calm breath he’d taken in days.

 

The sensors read it immediately.

“Heart rate steadying.”

“Mutagen drop detected.”

“Subject stabilizing.”

They didn’t understand why.

But Raph did.

He wasn’t alone.

Even here.

Even now.

The monster inside him may still be pacing—but Raph was still in charge.

For now.

Notes:

Yay for Raph for controlling his monster within

Next chapter will go back to Donnie

Chapter 10: Code Between Twins

Summary:

We return to Donnie, whose mind is frayed but intact—and now newly ignited with purpose. Donnie begins analyzing the subtle rhythms of the facility’s systems, discovers embedded weaknesses, and tries to send a coded message to Leo using shared logic and memory only the two of them would understand.

Notes:

And now we are back to Donnie. Let's see what he does to try and escape and how he and Leo communicate

Pain had a rhythm.

Donnie knew this now.

It had a tempo, a pattern.

The body learned to anticipate it.

The mind, even frayed and aching, adjusted to it—tried to stay one beat ahead.

So Donnie started listening.

Not to the pain.

But to everything else.

Lying on the cold floor of his cell—arms sore, spine aching—he focused on the world beyond his body.

The hum of the walls.

The flicker of light through suppression fields.

The hiss of data feeds and the soft crackle of plasma ventilation cycling every forty-one seconds.

The place was a system.

And systems could be understood.

 

He hadn’t spoken aloud in hours.

Maybe days.

His voice had been reduced to gasps and groans during the last mind extraction. But his mind—his mind—was still his own.

And it was working.

Rapid-fire thoughts cracked like lightning behind his eyes.

Ventilation pulse is consistent—twenty-one units wide, forty-one seconds apart. Heat bleed only slightly elevated—meaning someone’s powering mystic surges elsewhere. Mikey. That’s Mikey. His baby brother was fighting back

The thought gave him strength.

So did the persistent, rhythmic tap in the back of his awareness.

Leo.

His precious twin was still anchoring him. Still there. Still fighting

And that was the greatest thing in the world

 

Donnie moved slowly—painfully—until he was curled near the wall again, his ear pressed against the alloy floor.

He had no tech.

No battleshell.

No circuits.

But he had fingers.

And he had a plan.

 

He tapped once.

Then twice.
Then three times.
Then stopped.

He waited patiently.

The reply came, faint and staggered. Three, then one. Leo’s cadence.

Donnie bit his lip, forcing tears back.

You’re still in there, Leo. Still thinking. Still counting.

He switched to a different pattern.

Two quick taps. Then four.

2-4.

Then one pause.

1.

It was a memory.

“Your password’s 241 again?” Leo had teased once.
“It’s a prime number sandwich,” Donnie had snapped, offended.
“It’s lazy,” Leo had replied.
“It’s uncrackable,” Donnie said.
“It’s literally the third thing I guessed!”

It was their code.

A joke. A memory. A challenge.

 

The floor vibrated—barely—but it was intentional.

A tap.
Another.
Two more.

2-4-1.

Donnie choked on a sob. Slapped his hand lightly against the floor four times.

4-1-3.

Another code.

A location.

Sector 4. Node 13. One of the power routing junctions he’d glimpsed during the last session.

It had weak security shielding.

He hoped Leo remembered it.

He knew Leo would.

 

Somewhere across the compound, a monitor blinked red.

A technician leaned forward. “Energy ripple in subject 002’s cell—non-mystic. Mechanical?”

“No,” another said. “That’s not mystic… that’s morse.”

“What?”

The first tech paled. “He’s… he’s sending messages.”

“To whom?”

They looked at each other.

“…To Subject 001-B.”

 

Donnie didn't know they were listening.

Didn’t care.

This wasn't for them.

This was for Leo.

"You’re the one who always charges in first" Donnie thought to himself, but was hopefully that maybe Leo would hear it "But now I’m telling you where to go. Let’s end this together, Baby blue. Disaster twins forever!"

Notes:

Donnie and Leo are making their escape plans

Next chapter will see Leo response to Donnie's coded messages and get one step closer to an escape route

Chapter 11: The First Crack

Summary:

Leo receives Donnie’s coded message and begins to map out a potential escape route from his cell. Drawing on both instinct and their shared language, Leo starts the first real movement toward escape—and refuses to leave without his brothers.

Notes:

We moving back to Leo as he makes the first move towards freedom

2-4-1.
4-1-3.

Leo’s eyes snapped open.

That wasn’t just a heartbeat.

That wasn’t just hope.

That was Donnie.

That was his twin coding a message back to him

Not a memory, not a hallucination brought on by starvation and pain.

But his living, thinking twin sending him instructions—a map.

Leo grinned, teeth clenched.

“Still the smartest guy in the room, huh, D?”

He stood slowly, limbs stiff but not useless. The blackout protocols had been in place for nearly two days now—no light, no sound, no stim.

They thought it would dull him.

Instead, it had sharpened everything.

He felt his surroundings more clearly now.

Counted every step. Memorized the hums. Listened to the air pressure, the way the floor vibrated beneath his feet whenever the power grid surged.

He knew this facility better than most of its guards.

And now he had a target.

Sector 4. Node 13.

A weak junction point, Leo realized. Something Donnie saw during one of their scans or extractions. He wouldn’t send me there for nothing.

He crouched low beside the wall closest to that quadrant. It wasn’t exact—he didn’t have a map, just instinct and that old ninja spatial training, plus Donnie’s precision. Still…

“Sixteen steps long, curve to the left, power hum gets louder—yeah, it’s this wall.”

He tapped it lightly. Solid. No give.

But not impenetrable.

He pressed his fingers flat and closed his eyes.

Focused.

Not on brute force.

Not yet.

On timing.

On weakness.

 

He waited for the next power cycle—the moment the suppression field pulsed and dropped, even if just for less then half a second

He felt it.

NOW

He jammed his elbow forward, letting just a trickle of mystic energy follow the motion.

A faint crack echoed under his strike.

His breath caught.

Not a full break—but a fracture.

Leo grinned.

“Told you I was getting better with this stuff,” he whispered.

But this wasn’t just about him.

He stepped back from the wall and crouched down again.

Tapped: 4-1-3. Pause. 2.

Then:

3.
As in three brothers left to break out.

He hoped Donnie understood.

They weren’t escaping in pieces.

“We all get out,” Leo murmured under his breath. “Or none of us do.”

 

Across the facility, the control room lit up with alerts.

“Suppression field failure in Cell 001-B.”

“Localized energy spike detected.”

“Subject is… testing the wall.”

 

They scrambled. Reinforcements were ordered.

But the techs hesitated.

“He’s coordinating. He’s not just fighting randomly—he’s calculating.”

The head researcher narrowed their eyes.

“They’re trying to escape.”

“No,” said a nervous voice from the side, eyes still glued to the monitor feed. “They’re planning to escape.”

“And we just gave them the time to do it.” the head reseracher muttered underneath their breath

 

Back in his cell, Leo stepped forward again.

Hands up.

Focused.

Just a little more.

Just a little longer

I'm coming bros

Notes:

Leo making more and more progress each time and it will start to pay off real soon

Next chapter will take a different approach as it will show all four brothers at once as they work to escape and find each other

Chapter 12: In the Quiet, We Reach For Each Other

Summary:

A brief but powerful group-awareness chapter, where all four brothers—still trapped, still isolated—begin to truly feel each other again. No longer just faint pulses or static echoes, their bond now surges through the walls. Fear, love, and purpose all converge as they realize: they are not alone anymore.

Notes:

Going to change it up for this chapter and show all four brothers at one time. Again, a short chapter but I think it does a good job of showing the progress of all four at one time and how close they are to escaping

Hope you guys enjoy!

It began as a whisper.

Not from outside the walls.

Not from guards.

Not from machines.

Not even from the taps.

It came from within.

From deep places—scarred, raw, exhausted—but still alive.

Still connected.

 

 

Leo

He leaned against the cracked panel of his cell, heart still pounding from the energy surge.

For a moment, the darkness felt warm.

Like someone else was breathing alongside him.

He didn’t imagine it.

It was Mikey.

The chaotic thrum of his mystic soul, no longer erratic—but focused. Purposeful. Raging.

Leo breathed in.

Then he felt Donnie—sharp and steady, but pulsing with urgency.

Then Raph—grounded, massive, fierce.

They were there.

All three.

Leo whispered into the dark:

“I hear you.”

 

 

Donnie

He had nearly passed out after the last tap exchange.

But something stirred him now.

Something more than pain or fear.

Something that pushed back.

A feeling.

A memory.

He could feel Mikey—his energy rippling like an overcharged circuit board.

He felt Leo—hot and blue and bright against the suppression field, his thoughts like stars fighting through fog.

And…

Raph

Heavy. Solid. The way the earth feels under your feet after you almost float away.

Donnie's lips twitched upward.

A smile.

“We’re syncing,” he thought.

Not a system. Not a plan.

But rather...a heartbeat.

 

 

Raph

He wasn’t asleep.

Not really.

Not when the monster inside him was always pacing.

But then it paused.

Stopped.

Sniffed the air.

Family.

Little Brothers

He felt it in his chest first.

A pressure. A beat.

Then three distinct pulses.

Three distinct voices.

Leo.
Donnie.
Mikey.

His little brothers

Alive.

Close.

Calling.

And suddenly, for the first time in days, he didn’t feel like a cage.
He felt like a wall. A barrier standing between the people he loved and what wanted to hurt them.

“I got you,” he murmured through clenched teeth. “I’m still here.”

 

 

Mikey

The tubes sparked.

The cuffs flared.

But Mikey didn’t cry out.

He laughed.

It was weak and broken.

But still so real.

Because in the middle of all that noise, he felt them.

Leo’s control.
Donnie’s logic.
Raph’s weight.

They were more than shadows now.

They were real.

“Hey,” he whispered to the air. “Missed you guys.”

 

 

And just like that—

Four cells.
Four hearts.
One beat.

Ba-dump.
Ba-dump.
Ba-dump.

Ba-dump

No chains could stop it now.

The captors had done everything to tear them apart.

And all it had done…Was pull them closer together.

Notes:

:)

Next chapter will check back in on Mikey

Chapter 13: Overflow

Summary:

This chapter shifts the focus back to Mikey as the facility begins to lose control of the mystic extraction system. Fueled by his brothers' presence and the solid return of their bond, Mikey stops holding back—and for the first time, fights like a Hamato.

Notes:

Let's go back to Mikey. Knowing that his brothers are fighting and are near has Mikey taking a step forward and truly fighting back

The tubes were screaming.

Sparks snapped like lightning through the orange-glowing coils that crisscrossed Mikey’s chamber.

The mystic extraction system—designed to drain, suppress, strip—was no longer in control.

It was bloated.
Overcharged.
And cracking.

Just like Mikey had planned.

 

He sat cross-legged in the center of the chaos, eyes shut, his breathing slow. Not out of peace—but focus.

He wasn’t afraid anymore.

Not of the cuffs.
Not of the pain.
Not of what they’d done to him.

Because now?

He felt them.

He felt his brothers

Donnie’s precision. Leo’s pulse. Raph’s weight.

He was no longer alone.

And the moment their presence snapped back into place, like the final piece of a puzzle locking in, something deep inside Mikey’s soul ignited.

 

These strangers have taken everything from him.

Had separated him and his brothers and made him think for a short time that they were dead

But they couldn’t take his spirit.

And it was about to explode.

 

The mystic cuffs flared a warning pulse, trying to suppress the sudden surge of energy swirling around Mikey’s core.

A sharp jolt burned through his wrists.

He flinched.

But didn’t stop.

Instead, he leaned into it.

He focused on every warm, glowing bit of power inside him—years of portal-casting, flame-throwing, healing, hoping.

He thought of his brothers.

“You found me again,” he whispered. “Now I’m gonna find you.”

 

The system couldn’t keep up.

Orange began to flicker into red.

A siren wailed somewhere overhead.

“Mystic feedback loop detected.”
“Extraction destabilizing.”
“Overload imminent.”

“Stabilize Subject 003!” one technician shouted. “Inject him with Null Serum!”

“No good—he’s locking us out of the circuit!”
“Mystic nodes are responding to him, not us!”
“That’s not possible—”

“IT’S MYSTIC ENERGY, IT DOESN’T FOLLOW YOUR RULES!”

 

Mikey’s eyes snapped open, glowing gold.

The room’s suppression matrix began to shatter.

The air hummed like a living thing, thick with heat and light.

He extended one hand—not in anger, not in violence, but in connection.

And the tubes exploded.

 

The cuffs around his wrists flared, then blew apart with a metallic snap.

Mikey winced—his hands were blistered, his arms trembling—but he was free.

Truly free.

For the first time in weeks.

 

The force knocked him back against the wall.

He coughed, blinked, gasped—but when the smoke cleared, he laughed again.

This time, it was a real laugh.

A Mikey laugh.

Because he wasn’t going to be the weak link.

He wasn’t going to be the soft target.

He was coming for them.

And they didn’t get to keep his family anymore.

He was going to find his big brothers and they were going to get out together

Notes:

Yeah! Mikey is free...sort of. Still need to get out of his cell and find his brothers. But still...making progress

Next chapter will see Leo making his breakout, as he feels Mikey's mystic explosion

Chapter 14: Spark Meets Steel

Summary:

Leo executes his breakout and feels Mikey’s mystic explosion ripple through the entire facility. This is the moment when things stop being survival and start becoming war.

Notes:

This chapter is the first step in the boys offically breaking out

Mikey made his move...now it's Leo's turn

CRACK.

The panel gave way—just slightly—but enough.

Leo’s elbow throbbed from repeated strikes, but he could feel it now: the fracture had spread. A weak spot in the structure, like brittle bone beneath armor.

He pressed his ear to the wall again.

One more surge.

One more hit.

Then I’m through.

The tension across the room was rising. Leo could feel it in the air—the hum of mystic energy building somewhere nearby, thick and wild, almost electric.

“C’mon, Mikey,” he whispered, panting. “Let me feel it.”

Leo waited patiently for his baby brother to make his move

He waited...and waited

And then—

BOOM.

The explosion hit like a thunderclap through the floor.

The lights flickered for the first time in days. The suppression field fizzled. Alarms began to scream in languages Leo didn’t understand—and didn’t care to.

But the best part?

He felt Mikey.

Fully.

Wild, powerful, blazing with mystic fire and finally, finally free.

“Atta boy,” Leo grinned, the crack in his wall now glowing faint blue as energy surged back into his ninpo.

It was like someone had plugged his soul back in.

The blue lines that streaked down his arms hadn’t shone since he’d been captured.

Now?

They burned.

 

He didn’t wait.

Didn’t hesitate.

Didn’t even flinch.

He took three steps back, launched forward—and drove his entire body into the weakened wall with a mystic-charged shoulder slam.

CRASH.

Metal tore.

Sparks flew.

The panel exploded outward in a shower of orange and silver as Leo spilled into a service corridor beyond.

 

The hallway lights flickered—backup power only.

Screams echoed somewhere distant. The smell of ozone and smoke thickened the air.

Leo didn’t stop to celebrate.

He needed to get his other brothers out

He didn’t need a map.

He had Donnie’s code burned into his brain, Mikey’s explosion as his compass, and Raph’s heartbeat like a war drum pounding through the floor.

He sprinted toward the nearest stairwell.

“Hang on, guys,” he whispered.

“Neon Leon is on the way.”

Notes:

Leo is the first to escape

Which brother will he find first?

Chapter 15: If Logic Fails, Hope Remains

Summary:

We shift back to Donnie, who feels the shockwaves of Mikey’s explosion—and the subtle hum of Leo's freedom—piercing the walls. For the first time in weeks, logic and hope finally align. And Donnie, battered but brilliant, begins his own escape.

Notes:

Now that Leo and Mikey are making their escapes, it's time for Donnie to join in and start planning his own

The moment Mikey’s explosion rocked the compound, Donnie felt it—not just in his ears or in the shudder of the floor beneath him.

He felt it in his bones.

The tubes attached to his cell walls sparked. Suppression nodes blinked red. A tremor of mystic energy rolled through the vents like a scream through a canyon.

He knew it was Mikey.

No doubt. No hesitation.

He knew that mystic energy. That ninpo that burned like the fiery firecracker his sunshine of a baby brother was

He gripped the edge of the nearest wall and laughed—breathless and hoarse.

“Well done, baby brother,” he muttered. “You overloaded a full-cycle mystic system from the inside out.”

He’d never been prouder.

 

Seconds later, another pulse hit him—this one sharper, colder, focused.

Leo.

His twin was free.

The pressure of his twin’s energy slid into place behind his eyes like a blade sliding into a sheathe.

Their twin bond, frayed and faint for so long, now snapped tight. 

Donnie felt like he could collapse from the sheer relief that he felt on feeling his twin again

Leo is out.

And he's coming.

 

Donnie’s fingers twitched. Mind racing.

He was still chained—restraints binding his wrists to a static platform bolted to the floor. Suppression bands wrapped around his shell and skull, dulling mystic interference and disrupting electrical bursts.

But the blast had damaged something.

He could feel it—faint sparks in the floor circuitry, data loops failing to reset, pulses skipping.

The system was glitching.

Donnie leaned back, let his head hit the cold panel, and closed his eyes.

“Okay,” he whispered. “I can work with this.”

 

He mapped the sequence.

4-1-3.
The power node. The pulse rhythm. The frequency delay.

It all returned to that number.

And now that Leo was out, the corridor between their cells would be less guarded—at least briefly. But if Leo had to spend time cutting him out of this platform, it would slow them down.

So Donnie had to help himself.

“Just like old times,” he murmured. “Rely on logic. Then adapt when it breaks.”

 

He began slow.

One wrist, then the other, shifting subtly.

He rotated his fingers to the correct angle. Pressed into the seam of the wrist cuff—not trying to force it, just enough to redirect the contact sensor.

The panel blinked green.

One down.

 

Then came the harder part: the cranial suppressor.

He’d been trying for days to reroute its pulse cycle—but it adapted each time. It learned him.

But now? With the system reeling from Mikey’s blast and Leo's breakout?

It lagged.

The pulse skipped for a fraction of a second

That was all he needed.

Donnie bit down hard on his lip, focused his ninpo, and channeled the last spark of his tech-mystic synergy into his neural link.

His head snapped back as the suppressor fried—popping open with a hiss.

Pain bloomed behind his eyes.

He didn’t care.

He was free.

 

Donnie collapsed forward, panting.

The alarms were still screaming. Lights strobed. Smoke crept beneath the door.

And for the first time in weeks, Donnie allowed himself to smile—not out of sarcasm, but something fragile and rare.

“We’re really doing this…We’re getting out.”

Notes:

Donnie is now free!

Three brothers down...one more to go