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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[Not something he really understands, not without a visual or a word picture. But then he keeps listening, listens to his brother talk with a sort of awestruck admiration for what he experienced, what could have been... Leonardo may not have much interest or brain capacity for science, but he can appreciate his twin having the sort of love for it that he does.]
Yeah? Like - what, a bioship or something? [Straight out of some other cheesy scifi movie. Whatever it was meant Donnie had taken his battle shell off. Leo had noticed it when they all got their Ninpo abilities back.] So you were in total control.
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[stayed like that, the consciousness of a ship, forever separated from everyone but perfectly perfect in his existence. now, far away from it, unable to access that feeling again, it's...a little creepy. but in that moment, it had been logical, preferable, desirable. would he have left his family to travel the stars as the pilot and lone occupant of a bioship? ...maybe.]
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No offense, but I'm kinda glad none of us asked you that.
[A little flat, a little annoyed but it's more the pain than anything else.]
But you did good. Piloting the ship back into the portal, you did it.
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at that moment splinter appears in the doorway with his sewing. a mechanical arm emerges from some kind of compartment and rolls donnie's high-backed desk chair over next to the shell-cot for splinter to climb into. sheldon hovers a bit lower so that splinter and leo can talk face-to-face with minimal neck-craning.]
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[He watches Splinter come in, his face softening a little. It doesn't really matter how he's laying down, some part of him hurts but he can at least bite it back in front of Dad.
A quick one-sided conversation on his end, Donnie went out to get something, he's probably on his way back now. Sounds like he's on his way back, no idea when April can come back.]
Hey, uh. You're on your way back now, right?
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at least splinter is there, launching unprompted into some behind-the-scenes stories of what happened on some movie sets. usually stunts gone wrong or crazy groupie tales; the good old days. or maybe not, maybe they were just good back then and if he tried to have them now, he'd just be even more exhausted.]
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But Dad is here, and that's fine. He adores their dad, probably the mot of any of them. But with it being more of a 'sit and listen' type of situation and he literally has nothing else to occupy himself, Leo can feel his attention drifting into the exhaustion that's starting to settle into his broken bones again. Somewhere in the middle of it, he wonders how he can still be this tired after already sleeping for over a day. But recovery doesn't care about his thoughts, only in darkening them to a dull idea in the back of his mind.
So by the time Donatello gets back, Splinter is quietly working while Leonardo's fallen asleep again.]
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donnie spares their father a look, package in his hands before he drops it onto the table. he prepares the contrast injection for leo's IV meticulously, approaching the table and tapping the side to wake leo rather than touch him.] Leo. You need to be awake for this.
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Wha-... hey. What's up?
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I'm going to introduce the contrast and then get you scanned. The contrast is going to feel really weird and the machine is loud, but it shouldn't take long.
[uncaps the splitter in leo's IV and unravels the tube he'd been fiddling with, screwing it in but keeping the IV pinched for now. sheldon can't go through the MRI, so he'll need to transfer leo to the other table.] Sheldon, help me slide Leo over. Carefully.
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[That's about all he manages to get out before he feels the table he's on shifting, one side gradually lifting up higher. It's uncomfortable, after having gotten settled for the last hour or so. And a nerve pinches somewhere in the middle of his back, a new feeling that has him clenching his jaw so tight he'd swear he was grinding the bones down somehow. But more and more, that thought of what may have happened to his back is solidifying into a congealed sort of terror in the back of his mind.
Leo reaches out for something, anything that's within reach to ground himself. His fist clenching tight to whatever purchase it finds.]
Any chance we can get that time traveling microwave going again and stop all this from happening?
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Sure. Right after I give past Donnie the lottery numbers, I'll go ahead and save the world while I'm in the neighborhood. Piece of cake.
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[Almost as if Donnie's the funny one. Fat chance of that, though. After a moment and the sure steady new table is under him, Leo finally lets go. But his hand and arm are shaking from the effort it took to hold on, to not just cry out from the pain and try to consciously think of a joke he barely would call funny himself.
It shouldn't be this bad. It shouldn't be like this, they should've been able to shake off the worst of it and walk home, heads high and ready to celebrate a big win. So why is it bad like this?]
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I'm going to introduce the contrast. It'll feel really warm, like a hot flash. [donnie unpinched the tubing and hung up the IV and contrast bags on a hook attached to the machine, circling to the other side to tap at the display.] Dad, can you get me a syringe and a bottle from the second drawer?
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Splinter's fingers had stilled watching Leonardo's struggling, even as one ear flicked toward Donatello's words. But he nods and hops down off the chair to get just that, hands closing around the bottle and syringe. He eyes his son carefully handing them over.]
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[hesitates, then awkwardly pats leo's shoulder gently, like 'there, there.' he's definitely not looking to win a "best bedside manner" award, but keeping leo calm will also assist with accurate readings and leo calms down when he knows his brothers are there and safe, and taking care of each other.] Dad, I think I've got things here. Mind going and updating Raphie and Michael?
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I don't think I'll be able to raise my arms ever again! [Dramatic. Because he still has to be, it's the only way he can really cope with what's happening to and around him.] Just- Yeah. Sure. Still until you tell me.
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he calls out instructions as the table slides up through the ring as needed. a loud, jarring CLANK, CLANK, CLANK begins to repeat as the table moves, and quiets when the table stills. arms up, CLANK, CLANK, CLANK. arms down, CLANK, CLANK, CLANK. two times, four times, six times before donatello finally comes back to the display and the table begins to withdraw fully from inside the ring.] Okay. Stay here while I look these over.
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Whatever readings Donnie's getting from Shelldon are going a little worrisome by the end. His heart feels like it's racing to get out of his throat. Nevermind the aching in his shoulders from lifting and lowering his arms again and again, slamming into cement and steel and-
And then it's over. He can't get his breath as the table slides him out but he's trying. He's got to bring himself back down, focus. Meditating hadn't really worked before, but maybe he can try again.]
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donnie doesn't think this time, hands going back up to hold leo's face, the only part of him donnie knows for sure doesn't have a fractured bone in it, which is shocking enough considering how bruised he is on both cheeks. he doesn't let himself panic back at him; last time he'd lost it himself and just shouted, screamed, stormed out. that had been useless. he'd been useless.
so this time he pings sheldon, who sends him passages from the empathy literature and software he'd installed last night. maybe it's a copout or maybe it would've been better if donnie had known what to do rather than consulting his own AI construct, but he doesn't and it doesn't matter anyway. leo needs him to take care of him however he can.
so. calm, this time.] Leo. Hey. You're right here, you're home. Everyone's fine. Dad's with Raph and Mikey, April's with her parents, Casey's sleeping in the living room. You're in here with me. We're making you better.
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But more than that, the words that get through: "You're home". Home. With his family. That's what that sounds like.
God, he'd just about kill for a hug. What does a guy have to do for a hug around here?]
D... D- [His own mouth is working against him, his words stuttering against his own will. He clears his throat, forces a solid breath in. Single syllable words then. Once he gets that going, he should be fine. He's trying to drag his brain out of the shit hole it fell back into for a second.] Don't. Put me in that thing.
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still, leo's got his words back, but he doesn't seem comforted. donnie racks his brain, passes by the exhaustion, the sixteen manuals worth of knowledge crammed into his skull over the last thirty-six hours, and finds nothing. what does he do? what can he do? why can't someone tell him-
...his resource is right there.] What do you need? I want to help.
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[It's the one solid thought he can grab onto this very second. Everything else is a nebulous feeling he can't solidify just yet.
He wants a hug. He wants a hug so badly, he could almost cry. He settles for just resting a hand on Donnie's arm, squeezing it weakly like it'll get that simple request across. (It doesn't, he has to use words, but he doesn't have the voice yet.]
Let's just finish.
[Ignore it, deal with it. He can take his brain apart and put it back together later, he just wants out of here.]
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donnie hesitates, feeling something off but unable to determine exactly what, before he lets go of leo and taps at his wrist computer. Sheldon-as-a-cot floats back over right next to the table, mechanical arms sprouting out to assist.] Okay. Let's get you moved back over.
[getting leo away from the machine should help, right? away from the source of stress.]
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gotta actually have game to be a hoe leo
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no more bold text for me boy
ooooh shiiiiiiiiit
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A WEEK LATER
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