Chapter Text
Dealing with Shredder’s hair brained schemes was nothing new. Heck, it was almost a part of the daily routine. The days it didn’t happen felt off.
But that didn’t mean Michelangelo didn’t feel bad for his human friends that got caught up in the mix. Half the time, they didn’t even try to be roped in, it just kind of happened. And it always seemed to happen on important days!
Today, October 23rd, was Irma’s birthday! She shoulda been partying, not having to deal with Razor Brain’s antics. April shoulda been giving her a special surprise (maybe donuts!), not worrying if she was gonna live!
And on her morning break too! That was just wrong.
So, when they emerged from the sewer to find April hanging off some sort of mechanical device, Irma hiding just inside a shop and Shredder ready to fire, they launched right into action.
They all had their roles. They’d been established a long time ago.
Leonardo led the charge, Raphael provided the muscle, Donatello handled the mechanics and strategy and his job was to be the shield for the rest of the city or for the people. He had an eye for others and the heart.
So, when Irma tried to run from the nearby ice cream shop to better cover , he was the first to notice. “Irma, haul shell, Dudette!”
Breaking into a run, he headed her way, intent on moving her out of the line of fire. His brothers had April so he had to get to Irma.
“Enough of this nonsense. I’ll show them who’s in command now. Aim and fire it now Krang!”
The metal creaked, shifted, moved and a beam of shimmery light erupted from the end.
But it went just over Shredder’s shoulder.
“Irma! Look out!”
Working more on instinct than anything else, Michelangelo grasped the human woman in a bear hug, his shell taking the full blunt force of the beam.
It was hot! So hot! Like, well, he didn’t really have a good comparison. It soaked into his skin and muscle and he could feel it rushing into his veins. For a moment, it was almost hard to breathe, his breath went boiling in his lungs.
He was faintly aware of someone shouting, calling his name. He was also acutely aware of how he couldn’t move. His feet were planted, as if sunk into the earth.
Then, just quickly, the beam faded, his movement came back and he hit the ground, ironing Irma just beneath him.
The rumble of a module burrowing back into the earth seemed miles away.
Irma was safe though…
It was her ‘oof’ that really brought him back to reality.
Blinking, Michelangelo’s vision cleared and he realized they were both still on the ground. It might have been considered a compromising position if she wasn’t way older than him. Well, that and the fact he was a turtle.
All the same, he blushed, scrambling to his feet. “Uh, sorry, Dudette.” He pulled her to her feet. “Are you okay?”
“I…I think so.” She pulled away, pouting at the lumps of mint chocolate chip on the ground. “Except my ice cream didn’t survive.”
“I’ll buy you another one—“
Michelangelo didn’t get a chance to finish when his brothers all but ambushed him.
“Michelangelo, are you alright?” Leonardo’s voice was in high pitched mother-hen mode. He all but slammed his swords into their sheaths, then turned his brother’s head left then right. He pinched his cheeks, looking into his eyes. “Answer me!”
“I think so, compadre.” Gently prying himself loose from his brother’s administrations, the surfer turtle looked himself over, patted down his shell and patron. “I don’t feel any different.”
“Do a body scan.” Appearing at his side like some kind of creepy jack-in-the-box, Donatello looked his younger brother over, searching over his arms, his legs, his shell. “Tell me everything you’re feeling right now!”
“That’s like..mondo creepy dude.” Michelangelo replied, pulling away a bit when his brother began to lean a bit closer to his shell. That felt a bit too private for out here!
Donatello pinched him, though not hard, on the shoulder. “I’m gathering information, you goofball.”
Sheathing his sai, Raphael remarked. “Yeah, who knows what Tin Grin was using that thing for. He sure took off like a shot.”
“Doesn’t he always?” Donatello frowned, feeling with his fingers then gently swatted his brother’s hands as he tried to push away. “Now, hold still!”
“You saved Irma, Michelangelo!” April hugged him suddenly, giving him a light break from Donatello’s investigation . “Thank you!”
“Like, it’s part of the turtle service…” He looked at Channel Six secretary who was throwing away the remains of her cones. “Oh, like, major league sorry, Dudette about your ice cream.”
Irma finally smiled. “Oh…I probably didn’t need them anyway. And it was pretty exciting to be rescued. Even if it was by a big green turtle.”
“I want you home.” Donatello interrupted, pulling at Michelangelo’s arm. “I want to do some full scans and tests. Something was in that ray and I want to know what it was and what it might do to you.”
“Good call, Donatello, let’s go.” Leonardo met Irma and April with a smile. “Keep us posted. If you notice anything else—“
“I’ve got your number,” April held up her turtle com. “Take care of Michelangelo.”
Nodding, Leonardo followed his brothers into the sewers and April very faintly heard: “You’re gonna draw blood?!”
OOO
“This is indeed most distressing.” Splinter frowned. “Have you any information about what Shredder hoped to accomplish?”
“None right now, Master.” Leonardo heaved, releasing a huge chunk of breath. “All we know is it didn’t go the way he planned and they still have the ray.”
“Hmm, well, then we will need to gather more information. How is Michelangelo?”
“He seems fine. Donatello is gathering samples. So far, it’s—“
“No! I’m not a Guinea pig, Dude, stop it!”
“—About as well as can be expected.” Leonardo shook his head. “You know how Michelangelo can be.” It was a well known fact that, out of all of them, Michelangelo hated medical exams the most.
Splinter chuckled. “All too well. Do you need me to intervene?”
“No.” In this, the leader was adamant. “We can handle him. It might be more helpful if you can find anything with your guided meditation.”
“Very well. But do feel free to interrupt me if a father’s touch is needed.”
“I promise—“
“No! Not happening, Dude.”
Leonardo shook his head and left his sensei, making his way down to Donatello’s lab. They could manage this on their own. They should be able to. It was just a silly medical exam.
Entering, he found Raphael leaning against the wall, a smirk on his face.
“What’s so funny?”
“It just never fails to amuse me that a turtle who regularly gets clobbered by foot ninja, mutants, gangsters and whatever other craziness life decides to pop out at us is afraid of needles.”
Diverting his attention, Leonardo had to bite down his own laugh.
Michelangelo had tucked his arms into his shell and was shaking his head at Donatello who looked utterly exasperated.
“Donatello, what’s going on?”
The genius turned, gave a sigh of relief that he might actually have backup. “I took some residue from his skin and some crystals left behind at the site but I need to see what deeper effects it’s causing.” He lifted a small butterfly needle up and vial. “I need blood.”
“Uh uh, no way, Dude! I like my blood where it is—inside me!”
“Oh, you’re being ridiculous, Michelangelo!” Donatello’s patience, while worthy of universal praise, was wearing thin. “It’s a tiny needle. I even brought out the butterfly needles—baby ones.”
Pushing off the wall, Raphael remarked, “Baby needles for the baby turtle.”
Indignant, Michelangelo snapped, “Lay off, Dude! I’m not a baby!”
Donatello leaned forward, rubber tourniquet and needle in hand. “Then, by all means, stop acting like one.”
“Enough.” Leonardo intervened. “Insults don’t help.”
Pulling up a chair next to his youngest brother, he said, “Michelangelo, I know you don’t like this. Trust me, Donatello doesn’t like doing it anymore than you like having it done.”
“There may be a smidge of dishonesty in that compari—“
Leonardo kicked him in the shin.
“Ow! Right. Never mind.”
Leonardo focused back on his brother. “We all know you hate needles—“
“Why is another question entirely, considering every battle we’re in has to hurt even more…” Raphael quipped.
Without diverting his eyes, Leonardo remarked, “Raphael, you won’t open biscuit cans.”
Sputtering, the gruff turtle spat. “Hey! That’s different! I’m not scared of that!”
“Uh huh.”
“I just don’t like it!”
“Keep telling yourself that.” Leonardo smiled at his youngest brother. “Now, come on. If anything in that ray is gonna hurt you, we need to know. You know Donatello won’t hurt you unless it’s necessary.”
Pouting, Michelangelo relented. He did know that. Donatello was pretty gentle, all things considered. It’s just there was no way to make a needle gentle.
He knew it was silly. Raphael was right; he’d been hurt way worse in battles. Yet, for some reason, he would rather face a blaster in battle than a stupid little needle.
But…what if that ray was gonna melt him from the inside out like a gooey pizza? Or shrink him again like that alien crystal did?
Nothing could be worse than that but he wouldn’t put it past Shredder to try.
Slowly, he pulled his arms out and offered his brother his left. Donatello wrapped the rubber band tight around his bicep but as soon as the inventor went feeling for a vein, Michelangelo jerked away.
“Sorry…sorry.” Taking a deep breath, the youngest straightened his arm out, offered it again.
Relax. Relax. It’ll be quick.
Donatello’s fingers dug into the crux of his arm, pressing, feeling and poking at the veins.
Needle. Needle. Needle….
And again, he pulled away, almost reflexively.
“Michelangelo!” Donatello threw his arms up. “Come on!”
“I’m sorry, compadre!” To his credit, he did sound apologetic. “I’m trying here!”
Donatello’s eyes softened. “You know, it’s not that bad. It never is.”
“Tell my brain that.” His arm twitched and jerked before Donatello even got close.
“Okay, c’mon.” A pair of hands grasped hold of Michelangelo’s arm, one at the mid upper arm and one mid lower arm, holding it firm and hard.
“Go on, Doctor Don,” Raphael told his brother. “I got ‘em.”
Michelangelo winced but Leonardo grasped his chin and turned his head away.
Fingers digging, prodding, needles. Needles. Cold! Alcohol…
“Look,” an odd sensation began on Michelangelo’s right arm and he blinked as he saw his oldest brother was tracing the edge of a kunai up and down it. Always careful to never put enough pressure to cut. “What do we know about that ray? Did you notice anything when it hit you, Michelangelo?”
“Not really.” He answered. “I mean, I felt hot but that’s it.”
“Hot how?” Raphael asked.
“I dunno. Not like the sun is out hot or nothing. Like hot from the inside.” He frowned, recognizing the designs Leonardo was tracing on his skin. Kanji. Hard to tell what exactly but “what are you spelling?”
“You tell me.”
“Really? You’re gonna give me a kanji quiz right here?”
“It’s a simple one.” Leonardo smiled. “C’mon.”
Thinking, playing the motions he felt, Michelangelo asked, “Wait, mountain…tree…river. These are super simple, Leonardo!”
“But you’re getting them right by feel, not sight. That’s a lot harder.”
The youngest turtle didn’t see the point, even if he was getting it right. Besides, “Dude, that tickles.”
A laugh. “Does it?”
“You know I’m like super sensitive to texture!”
“Is it bothering you?” Genuine inquiry.
Michelangelo considered his answer. “Naw, it’s just mondo bizarro. Any reason you decided to start making my arm a fidget board?”
A vial full of red liquid was suddenly thrust in his face. Donatello smirked, shaking it lightly from side to side. “Probably so you wouldn’t notice when I poked ya.”
Turning back around, Michelangelo blinked in surprise but sure enough, the draw was done and his immediate older brother had wrapped some gauze over the small wound. Raphael released him.
Whirling back to Leonardo, Michelangelo blanched. “Dude! How did you do that? I didn’t feel nothing!”
“Distraction is a powerful thing.” Leonardo stood, tucking the kunai into his belt. “If I can offer it, I do.”
Raphael stepped back. “You might have to just deal with it someday though, Michelangelo.”
“I will when you open one of those biscuit cans willingly, Dude.”
“For the last time, I’m not afraid of them!”
Donatello shook his head but took his sample back over to the table. “Well, we’re done for now, Michelangelo—“
“Bodacious!” The turtle stood, almost tore out the door.
“—BUT…”
“Man, there’s always a “but”
“But,” Donatello emphasized, “I want you to tell me if you feel anything weird. I should have results in a few hours.”
“So I’m free?” The surfer turtle shifted from foot to foot.
Rolling his eyes but not without a light laugh because his brother had that effect on everyone , Donatello waved his hand in a dismissal gesture. “Yes, yes. Go. Don’t get out of range of the the turtle coms, though. Once I get results, I wanna meet quick.”
“No problemo! I’m hitting the sewers!” He jetted from the lab to the garage, grabbing his skateboard as he went.
Leonardo called after him: “Stay close!”
“Duh, Dude!” came the retreating response.
Rolling his eyes, Raphael remarked, “You two could pass for a dad and a mom right now.”
“Look, I don’t want to scare him.” Donatello said simply. “I found radiation in those crystal from the surface.”
All teasing drained from Raphael’s voice. “Radiation? You mean like…nuclear bomb type stuff?”
“Well, that’s one kind. This is a rare isotope—exoboron.”
“Like the meteor April did a report on earlier,” Leonardo offered.
“Exactly. In fact, I’d say that’s likely exactly where Shredder got it.”
“So…” Raphael began.
“What does that mean for Michelangelo?” Leonardo asked.
“It’s too soon to tell. That’s why I wanted a blood sample. I have samples of all our blood on file—“
“Gross,” Raphael interrupted. “And a little creepy.”
“I have the breakdown on the computer now, Raphael. Blood doesn't keep forever. Well, it’s useful especially for stuff like this. It gives me a baseline to compare my sample against and having the sample of exoboron should do the rest.” Setting a vial down, Donatello pulled out his goggles. “I’ll let you know what I find out.”
OOO
“That’s another mission you botched up. Though, maybe it was for the best.”
Shredder frowned, narrowed his eyes. “Me? Who was doing the aiming, Krang?”
The alien warlord chose to ignore that fact, as if he often did for anything that didn’t show him in a positive light. “I may have inadvertently solved one of our turtle problems.”
“Oh?”
“It was the youngest, Michelangelo, that the ray hit. Before long, its effects will take hold and the city will have its own problems with a giant terrapin.”
Eyes wide, Shredder grinned behind his mask. “And they will have their hands full trying to keep the city safe. Their secret will be out in full. Everyone will be against them!”
“Which will give us ample time to obtain fuel and energy resources we need.” The creature pushed a few buttons.
At this, Shredder was dumbfounded. “What? You’re not going to repair the laser? When’s my chance to be big?”
“You’ve already got a big enough head!” With a gurgle, Krang continued. “But the readings I got from the test on the surface are not good. The cons far out weigh the benefits. The damage it can do to the body is extreme.”
Another baffled expression.
“Since when do you care what happens to me?”
“I don’t. But you’re useful enough to keep around.”
“If that’s your idea of flattery, don’t quit your day job.”
OOO
Michelangelo returned hours later with Irma in tow, April and boxes full of ice cream pizza. “Like, welcome to the party, Dudette!”
“Happy birthday!” Raphael and Leonardo greeted her with confetti and Splinter offered her a gift and card.
“Many happy returns, my dear.”
“Oh, thank you, thank you! Ooo ….Michelangelo is that chocolate fudge with garlic?”
“Extra garlic!” He grinned and withdrew two slices. “Absolutely, little lady. One for each delicate hand.”
Irma giggled a little, but took them willingly.
Looking around, Michelangelo asked, “Hey, where’s our brainy bro?”
“Where he always is.” Raphael flopped on the couch with a slice of chocolate and pineapple. “Slowing growing roots in the floor of his lab.”
“Aw, but he’s missing all the fun!” Leaving the group, Michelangelo made his way down the hall and knocked on the door. “Yo, Donatello!”
“I’m busy!”
Groaning, Michelangelo pushed the door in. “You’re always busy, Bud. Take a break. Irma’s here for the party and you’re missing it!”
The genius didn’t move from his table. “I appreciate that but this needs to take priority.”
“Dude, have you been working on that since I left?”
“It’s a complicated process…”
“You’re gonna burn your brain out. Then what good are gonna be? C’mon.” He approached, wrapped his arm around Donatello’s. “Irma’s gonna think you’re ditching her and that’s massively uncool to do to a Dudette on her birthday!”
Being a scientist, Donatello knew his brother had some good points. Continually working would break down his ability to think, to process. But the brother side of him insisted that this might have something to do with his sibling’s health and therefore needed all the attention he could muster.
“C’mon, Dude. Please? I even got sherbet and bell pepper pizza for you. Please?”
Donatello made the mistake of turning. Michelangelo’s bright blue eyes all but burned into his skull. As if him not coming to this celebration was a personal offense.
“I put it all together. Please?” He tugged lightly in his brother’s arm.
Huffing, Donatello reached over and rubbed his brother’s head but with a smile. “Could those eyes get any bigger?”
“ I could try.”
“Please don’t.” Setting his equipment aside, Donatello mixed a solution then set it in his stand. “It needs to set anyway. Alright…”
“Yes! Bodacious! Show Irma that Turtle Trot move of yours. It’s totally awesome!”
OOO
Once Irma and April had left, the group worked together to remove decorations and put away leftovers. As soon as he deemed he’d “done my fair share” Donatello all but ran back to his lab.
While Raphael and Michelangelo worked in the kitchen, Leonardo approached their master. “Master Splinter, were you able to get anything from your meditation?”
The rat frowned. “It was faint but I have the feeling my old enemy has abandoned his latest scheme in favor of another.”
Mirroring Splinter’s expression, Leonardo rubbed his chin. “That ray had to have taken weeks to build. Why suddenly abandon it?”
“Perhaps, he found new evidence to suggest pursuing it would not be favorable to him.”
The words sank like stones in Leonardo’s gut. “Nothing has changed except Michelangelo being hit with that beam.”
“Precisely. And I fear whatever information Shredder obtained from such a test does not bode well for your brother.”
Worry flowed in his blood as readily as plasma. “What can we do?”
“I fear we are already doing all we can, my student. Until Donatello can provide us with data and a means of action, all we can is observe and wait.”
Looking toward the kitchen when Michelangelo was working, Leonardo voiced. “I hope he’s okay.”
In reality, Michelangelo was not okay. Or at least not as okay as he put on. It wasn’t exactly a lie because he’d begun the party genuinely feeling in good spirits. He still felt, for the most part, that way.
It wasn’t exactly a light twinge in his muscles. Not quite. Almost like growing pains or muscle cramps. In fact, that’s what he initially thought they were. Except he hadn’t done anything truly strenuous today—not even in training—and whenever he hit a growth spurt, he got hungrier.
None of that had happened.
Setting the collection of empty pizza boxes on the counter, Michelangelo stopped, rubbing at his neck.
“What’s wrong with you?”
He’d forgotten Raphael was still here.
“Nothing, compadre. Just an ache.”
“Where at?” Oddly enough, no tease came with the inquiry. “Since when?”
“Ah, its nothing to worry about, bud—“
“Only you would get zapped by a laser beam then say aches were nothing to worry about.”
“Look.” Michelangelo turned. “You asked. I answered. Probably pulled something trying to do that turtle trot of Donatello’s.”
“Uh huh. You’re the most flexible of all of us, Michelangelo. If you’re gonna lie, at least make it a good one.”
“Thought that was a good one!” He laughed but his brother didn’t join in. “Seriously. It’s not that bad—“
“Then you won’t mind if we tell Donatello.”
Throwing his head back, the youngest whined. “C’mon Dude! He’s already paranoid enough. Why should I bug him for something that isn’t a big deal?”
“Because you don’t know it isn’t, Michelangelo!” A odd fervor entered Raphael’s voice. “You got shot with an isotope. That’s kinda a big deal and we got no clue what it might do!”
A touch of fear crossed Michelangelo’s face. If his brother wasn’t so frustrated with how nonchalant he was being, it might have bothered him. “An isotope? Donatello didn’t tell me that…”
“Because we didn’t want you to freak out! But I’d rather have you freaking out than thinking there’s nothing to worry about and forgetting to tell us stuff!”
“What stuff?” A new voice joined.
Leonardo entered the kitchen, two trash bags in hand. His eyes went from Raphael to Michelangelo and back again. “What’s wrong…what’s going on?” He set the bags on the floor.
“Your brother is the worst patient in the world.” Raphael pointed to said-brother as he spoke.
Michelangelo pouted. “I am not—“
“Raphael, why is it he becomes my brother whenever he irritates you?” Leonardo trotted over to the group.
“Because he’s doing that self sacrificial bull shit—“
“Raphael!”
The three turned as Splinter followed Leonardo into the conversation.
Schooling his emotions, as well as his face, Raphael amended “That self sacrificial crap he likes to do.” He set his oldest brother with a glare. “He learned that from you.”
“Whoa!” Michelangelo interrupted before his brothers could get more on each other’s nerves. “Hold up! Don’t blame Leonardo! Or me! You didn’t exactly tell me the whole truth here!”
“You left before we could!” Raphael snarled.
“Donatello said we were done! Why didn’t he tell me?”
“Because you like to freak out,” Leonardo offered. “And we didn’t want to scare you. Especially since Donatello doesn’t have any answers right now.”
“Bozo idea, amigo! I’m more freaked out now than if you’d just told me—“
Raphael pushed his sibling’s shoulder though lightly, “And that’s why we didn’t tell you—“
“ BOYS !”
It was so rare for Splinter to raise his voice and he hadn’t called them “boys” for years. (Leonardo foolishly thought they’d outgrown the term).
It still had the desired effect though.
All three went quiet, heads down.
“This bickering accomplishes nothing. If we are to be successful and if we are to help Michelangelo, we must be united. Supportive. It does not matter what should have happened. That is past. What do we do now ?” Splinter clicked his stick on the ground for emphasis.
The youngest sighed. “I guess I should go see Donatello.”
“That does seem like a wise course of action, my student.”
Heaving a breath of resignation, Michelangelo headed for his brother’s lab, muttering, “He better not want to poke me again.”
Turning to his father, Leonardo bowed. “I…am sorry Sensei. We behaved irrationally, emotionally.”
“Gee,” Raphael mused. “Almost like we’re teenagers or something.”
“Your apology is accepted, Leonardo.” Splinter turned to head for the lab himself. “Go join your brother. He may well need support, if Donatello has stumbled upon any answers.”
A nod and the leader took off at a quick jog.
When Raphael moved to follow he found himself stopped by his master’s walking stick jabbed at his chest.
“Master Splinter—“
“You may join us, Raphael, once you have completed twenty flips.”
“What? Why?”
“I did not raise you to have such a dishonorable tongue and you would do well to remember that.” Setting his stick on the ground, Splinter turned, heading down the hall. “And please, do not attempt to fool me. A rat’s hearing can tell the difference between a clap and a flip.”