Donatello / Purple (
semilethal) wrote2022-08-24 09:34 pm
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LEO - POST MOVIE
[ nobody asks where april found the van. some mild criminal activity feels irrelevant in light of the day they just had anyway, and they couldn't exactly walk all the way back to the lair.
not with leo like...this. not just leo either; raphael couldn't hardly hold his head up, hunched and clearly wearing his 'i'm the eldest and i won't complain' face as he cradles leo so carefully on their way to the van. mikey's hands and arms won't stop trembling, even when he twists them together and presses them to his plastron. donatello is sore all over and his skin and shell feel raw, like someone rubbed him down with sandpaper.
and leo's quiet. leo's too quiet.
so there they are in the cargo van, raph tucked toward the front with a leg stretched out for mikey to use as a pillow to doze upon. april and casey sit up front, throwing concerned glances over their shoulders as often as is safe while april slowly weaves the vehicle through the half-destroyed streets toward the nearest access point. splinter sits near the doors as their only other capable fighter, though he keeps his tail curled around leo's uninjured ankle.
and donatello, he's stripping off his gloves because he's going to have to touch his brother to get a better idea of his injuries, and his skin doesn't feel like his own and that'll interfere with his judgement. the fewer layers between he and his brother, the more accurate he can be. ]
Alrighty Leon. Look alive, let's...let's diagnose.
not with leo like...this. not just leo either; raphael couldn't hardly hold his head up, hunched and clearly wearing his 'i'm the eldest and i won't complain' face as he cradles leo so carefully on their way to the van. mikey's hands and arms won't stop trembling, even when he twists them together and presses them to his plastron. donatello is sore all over and his skin and shell feel raw, like someone rubbed him down with sandpaper.
and leo's quiet. leo's too quiet.
so there they are in the cargo van, raph tucked toward the front with a leg stretched out for mikey to use as a pillow to doze upon. april and casey sit up front, throwing concerned glances over their shoulders as often as is safe while april slowly weaves the vehicle through the half-destroyed streets toward the nearest access point. splinter sits near the doors as their only other capable fighter, though he keeps his tail curled around leo's uninjured ankle.
and donatello, he's stripping off his gloves because he's going to have to touch his brother to get a better idea of his injuries, and his skin doesn't feel like his own and that'll interfere with his judgement. the fewer layers between he and his brother, the more accurate he can be. ]
Alrighty Leon. Look alive, let's...let's diagnose.
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[He's frustrated. He's in pain, and he's sick of nightmares and being worried and scared, and he still hasn't actually talked to any of them about what happened. And has no real plans to as of now. He can already feel the muscles in his neck and shoulders stiffening worse from being stuck like this for days on end. He's just tired.]
What I really want? What I really want is for none of this to have happened. So I hope we can figure something out to change that.
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[Yeah. You can bet he went to Casey and wrenched the entire story out of him during this preparation time. Having that many unknowns makes him uncomfortable, and if there was any future knowledge that could help him figure out how best to repair, recover, and support his family, he would take it no matter how hard it was to hear.
His own death was...well. It was at least suitably dramatic.]
So, that's off the table because the cost is too high. But everything else? Doable. [Leans forward and if he'd looked or sounded irritated before, that was just his face, his voice. Donnie's brow is set with determination, and his eyes are lit with confidence. Whatever plagued him previously, when he'd cried while staring up at the x-rays of his brother's fractured skeleton, his internal bruises, at what he'd suffered for his sacrifice...Donnie's come to terms with it, at least.
If he has to drag Leo kicking and screaming to that same goalpost, he will. If he has to suffer these emotional talks for weeks or months or until the end of time, he will. If he has to be the one to pull the hope card sometimes, he will. Mikey is the baby. Raph deserves the rest. If Leo's hurt or in danger or troubled, Donnie will readily accept the unspoken second-in-command role and either prop Leo back up, or cover him until he can do it himself.
Coming to terms with that reality? Wasn't nearly so difficult.] If I can come up with a way to deliver an atom bomb to the prison dimension to nuke the everloving newtons out of the Krang, you better believe you'll get first dibs on pressing that button. And if Dad ever lifts the uranium ban, I'll make us a gigantic mech suit so undeniably killtastic that we won't even have to throw a punch to win the next Krang-y fight.
The point is, if something big comes for us again? You aren't alone. If you don't think you can do it, you get Raph, or you get me. You can even get Mikey, he'll be insulted if you don't. Just because you're the leader or because you're the plan guy doesn't mean it's just you. We tore open spacetime to prove that! Okay so Mikey did, me and Raph just helped.
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But he listens.
A ninja's greatest weapon, huh.
Hope doesn't make the panic stop. Hope doesn't stop the way his nerves freeze when he hears metal clanging against solid foundation. It doesn't stop the way that, when it's deathly quiet at night and he's the only one awake, he can still hear his brothers pleading for him to find another way.
Had their father ever intended for things to turn out like this? When he started letting them learn ninjutsu, is this what he'd had in mind? For them to be heroes saving the world from otherworldly beings when they're just sixteen?
But Donnie is trying. He's trying so hard.
He can't lift his arm properly for a fist bump or a forearm tap, but he can just lift his fist enough to show what he wants, watching Donnie quietly. An offer. An almost promise for the time being. He'll try.]
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or until he finally gets some therapy tailored specifically for people on the spectrum, but this...He lifts his own fist to tap it against Leo's. It's okay if Leo's not okay yet- not that it's okay that Leo's not okay, but it's okay if Leo isn't ready to be okay too. Leo heard what Donnie was trying to say, with too many words and not enough kindness, probably, in his tone. Mikey can sit there and sob and hold onto people and they can feel it seeping in through their skin, and Raph just has a way of speaking that's so sincere, so clear, that it's as if he's cracked open your chest to speak directly into your heart, but Donnie-
Well, when Donnie talks it usually doesn't work out well. Not that it stops him, it's just-
Refocus. Leo's not okay but he's willing to try. He's willing to let Donnie handle things while he's not okay. He understood that all of that was Donnie saying, I'll handle things, and I'll help you make sure we're okay, and I love you.]
Welp. That's enough brush-up, I think. [Donnie tosses his tablet onto one of Leo's shelves and slaps his knees.] Give me a second and I'll put together a rig with a widescreen on your ceiling so we can play Mariokart. [Also useful, since Leo's going to have to be generally stationary after the surgery, too.
And he really did mean it about a second or so, because within minutes Donatello and his robotic arms have assembled a complex framing apparatus that suspends a TV not directly facing down, but such so that Leo doesn't have to crane his neck or try to look down in order to have a perfect view. Donnie passes over a controller as he sets up Mariokart, so they can play and have fun and be ready for tomorrow, a day which might change everything.]
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Gradually, the night does slip by. And eventually the early morning noises of their older brother doing rounds of the lair creep over the noise of their game. Then it's dad getting up to make tea, followed by Mikey's loud characteristic yawn as he goes to start breakfast.
Leo looks over at Donnie, a little scared but more resolute.]
Just about time, then.
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Just...buzzy.] Sheldon, can you prep Leo?
You got it, Donnie! [The belts that have been stabilizing Leo for the entire preparation period finally unclasp and retract, robotic arms much like the ones in Donnie's battleshell extending instead.] C'mon Leo, time to get cleaned up and cut open!
Laparoscopic, [Donnie corrects as Sheldon floats Leo out of the room.]
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Really, really do not like how you said that, Shelldon. [Just grumbling the whole way to being cleaned up.]
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Okay dokay, stand up real careful, Leon! Here, I'll help. [The little robotic arms come out to form guardrails around Leo himself, to help guide him slowly to his feet.] Gotta get this solution all over ya for optimum cleanery.
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[Just like he doesn't want to hear 'almost died' in relation to his survival. As far as he's concerned, he's unkillable since the krang didn't do it. Way better perspective to look at it.
The Shellcot tilting just slight so Leo can get to his feet even easier is helpful. But it's a similar sensation one has of walking or running on a treadmill for a while and then trying to walk on regular floor again - it feels off, like trying to learn to walk again after several days of barely moving and being floated around everywhere. Unhelpful is the reminder that everything is sore and nothing is fully healed yet.
He clutches to the guard rails after trying to take a step. He's glad his family isn't seeing this right this second, it's embarrassing considering his everything usually. He lowers his voice though.]
Thanks, Shelldon.
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Two more robotic arms appear; one with a soft sponge and one with a spray bottle, which it uses to soak the sponge liberally before the arm with the sponge begins to wipe ever so gently at Leo's shell, careful of the patchwork.] No offense bro but I'm glad I don't have an olfactory function. You probably reek right now.
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[His family has been great, but he's not an idiot. He'll play the fool all he has to (to make sure plans actually work, to make himself less of a target because as long as he's there, he can portal them all out, to cheer his family up, to boost his own confidence when he has to) but an actual fool Leonardo is not.
While normally a good shell scrub feels great, the rubbing with his back problem is a low-grade throbbing agony. He grips the guard rails tighter to just. Get this over with.]
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Just then, however, a tap tap tap on the outer canvas of the pop-up hallway precedes Mikey calling plaintively as if he's trying to reach Leo through a brick wall or a bad phone connection.] LEO! WE'RE ALL GONNA BE OUT HERE IN GERM LAND TO SUPPORT YOU! WE ALL LOVE YOU VERY MUCH BUT I LOVE YOU THE MOST!!
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Thanks, Mikey, I know I can always count on you.
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Leo, just relax. We're all gonna be right here, so we'll see you when you wake up, yeah? [Raph's voice is casual, calm. Very, very calm, carefully so. The conviction is there, the I'm the biggest brother and I'm promising you that you'll be okay, but he's also trying to mask his own anxiety about one of his brothers undergoing surgery for the first time.]
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He grips the guard rail a little tighter, now looking at the door ahead of him while Shelldon finishes.]
Thanks. I'll make sure not to keep everyone waiting. [There's some of that Grade A Leonardo Charm.]
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Shelldon finishes cleaning Leo up with little fanfare. When Leo turns back to the gurney, in place of the bedding there's a waterproof cover over the padding of the cot, the sheets and pillows gone. The cushioning on the cot is still curved to account for Leo's shell, but he'll more or less be laying flat.]
Showtime, dude.
[Once Leo is situated, Shellcot floats out of the hallway with its settling mist and into a tented operating room fashioned from Donnie's old cleanroom corner. Over by the table Donnie has a smock, mask, and gloves already on, his goggles down over his eyes as he messes with some equipment. Surprisingly, also in the room is Casey, likewise scrubbed up and waiting over by the hanging IV pole.]
Finished? Great. Over here, Shelldon, and lock yourself down once you're docked. [Donnie gestures to what looks like half of a forklift, which Shelldon carefully navigates the gurney into before settling with a firm CLANK.] Monitoring vitals and prepping anesthetic! Everything looks good, my bros. Heart rate's kinda high.
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He's terrified. He's so scared of this and of course Casey's here so he can't even be honest about it. He shoots Donnie a glance before trying to settle still again.]
Yeah, I'm gonna say that's normal.
[He is still the worst patient.]
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He straightens the few surgical tools he'll be using, for the tenth time. He still doesn't look over at Leo.]
Not normal, but it's cool! You're probably just freaking out.
[The slant of Casey's brow is sympathetic, even as he reaches for Leo's wrist to turn his arm over and expose his inner elbow.] Sensei, we'll be right here. Can you straighten your arm out?
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[His arm goes rigid stiff when Casey reaches for it. He doesn't even want to turn it over until he hears his voice. Leo forces a heavy swallow of whatever had started to pool under his tongue and carefully follows the motion with careful motions, clearly methodical and not at all with his usual fluidity.
So he's freaking out a little bit. This is happening... now. Like now now. No more "when Donnie finishes building thing" or "after Pops comes back with the supplies", definitely an end to the thought "it'll be after we finished prepping". This is it. They're ready and Leonardo is not.
He feels sick. He feels like he's going to vomit at some point in his future.]
Y-yeah.
...Hey, Donnie? [He waits for a second to see if he'll respond. Either way-] You got this. I trust you.
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Casey looks up at Donnie over Leo, and Donnie nods towards the hallway. Clear out for a second. Thankfully Casey seems to pick up on it because he lets go of Leo's wrist and sets the IV needle back down on the surgical tray, heading over to the sanitization hallway and closing the flap behind himself.
Donnie resigns himself to scrubbing in all over again as he strips his gloves and drags a stool over to sit next to Leo, not pulling his mask down but taking his brother's hand after a moment.]
I'm not worried. You're afraid, though. Scientifically speaking, lying about it won't make you less afraid.
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A WEEK LATER
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