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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A confirmation of something he'd started to glean earlier. Raising (oh god don't say children, he's barely sixteen years old, he doesn't want to think about that-) someone is far, far at the end of his list of things he wants to think about.
But Casey hesitates. And given what he's said so far it's not that difficult to put the final piece in place.
Raph wasn't there. Casey hadn't said a single thing about Raphael since he showed up on their doorstep. It's not hard to figure out. When Casey does look at him, Leo's watching him, expression tired and drained and solemn. He knows.]
And Raph wasn't there. [He finishes, as kind as he can.]
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after all...they're gone now. in more ways than one.]
(I was too little when it happened.) [casey's voice is hushed, though neither raphael nor donatello are in sight. this is...a private moment. if anyone will understand him, it must be master leonardo, even if he's so much younger. right?] (I remember some things about him, though. How big he was. How if he picked you up, you felt invincible. Just feelings.) [casey lowers the comic book to his lap, gazing blankly down at it.] (And then, he was gone. People were always disappearing back then, but not- ...it was the first time it was someone I really knew.)
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He thinks back to that first time Raphael was able to truly unlock his Ninpo, catching Leonardo so carefully after being thrown off the building. All the times their big brother saved their asses just by being himself.
Leonardo thinks something might permanently break if Raphael were truly forever gone. The anger he felt when the Krang simply took his brother would have been incandescent if Raphael were in a state he couldn't be brought back. But Casey doesn't remember what happened - who knows. Maybe the Krang did take Raphael. Maybe the worst did happen. They don't know what year Casey's actually from, but would he have been alive for when the Key was originally taken? Did he know all the details from his version of events? Likely not.
Where he lays on the Shelldon-cot, Leonardo's expression is tumultuous on its own journey before it settles into something like "tired". Too tired to give this the consideration it deserves.]
Well. You don't have to deal with stuff like that anymore. You're here now. Gotta be better than there, right?
gotta actually have game to be a hoe leo
Casey laughs quietly to himself as they disappear around the corner, but his voice is curiously thick as he continues,] (I don't even know how to say how relieved I am, but they're still...gone forever.) [His breath hitches as he reaches out and rests a hand blindly on Leo's arm, seeking comfort but trying not to hurt.] (I'm so glad you're all alive but the turtles who I grew up with, my mom, Commander April...my Sensei. I'll never see them again. They'll never even exist.)
[Everyone survived, but he's grieving all the same.]
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Well.
Charismatic, usually. But that's debatable these days.
There's a relief in his nerves that it looks like Donatello might finally get some sleep. And he'll catch up with Raph later. But right now, Casey needs him.
(When will he get his own chance to break a little? Probably not until everyone's finally resting and he can just take himself to his own room. He'll figure out a time later. For now everyone needs him to be okay. He's starting to understand that pressure Raphael was under. Just a little, even if it's different.)]
Yeah... [Then, more sure:] Yeah. I know we're not the same thing, but. They're still with you. You've got your memories and feelings for them, so. You're not alone, Casey.
[And if nothing else? Leonardo means that.]
no more bold text for me boy
ooooh shiiiiiiiiit
Um. Up to you?
[Honestly after everything he's a little nervous about that? But if that's what Casey's comfortable calling him, then...]
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He's making this weird. Leonardo is actively making this weird. He manages to squirm on the Shell-cot enough to rub at his face before the strap across his shoulders dig in a little too much. Ultimately he settles for just resting his head back and making an attempt to relax (he doesn't, though. It's too much for him to relax just yet).]
It's fine. Don't worry about it.
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[Like they're never gonna call their dad Yoshi Hamato or Lou Jitsu, he's just... Splinter or Pops. Just the way it is, and if Casey's not into calling Leo by his name and more comfortable using Sensei then he's not about to change that.
But it seems like whatever was going on with Raph and Donnie has settled down, so he lifts his head to look back at Shelldon and then back to Casey.]
Look, uh. If it's all the same, I think thisi s gonna be the best chance I get to get some sleep before everyone's back. So. You should probably do the same while you can.
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Stands, carefully placing the comic back atop the stack and hesitating for a moment before carefully folding himself over Leonardo in a hug, gentle if only because he doesn't want to hurt him, and not because of unfamiliarity. Leo could probably use this, right? Sensei was always the strong one, constantly reassuring others, but he also always returned Casey's hugs with an almost desperate fervor as if he'd needed them just as badly as Casey did.] I'm glad you're going to be okay, Master. So glad. [Because he will. Master Donatello is on it; Leonardo can't be anything but.]
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But Leonardo here in New York City who just wants to break down alone. Leonardo who wants to turn off the lights in his car-room for the first time in years and just let go for a little bit. And he can't do that if he has a Casey Jr. shaped shadow hanging on his every word.
The hug catches him off guard, though. It makes sense, everyone else except April had gotten one in, of course Casey would want in on that. He gives great hugs... when his arms are not literally strapped to a metal flying sentient cot. His hugs are amazing, second only to Dad and even (maybe a little ahead hoho) with Raph.
So if he sounds choked up, well. Maybe he is a little.]
Y-yeah. I am too, Casey.
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Later that night, Donnie lets himself into Leo's room without so much as a knock. It's better if he's sleeping anyway; he needs his rest, and Donnie's just here to check his vitals. Even though Sheldon can do that. Remotely, and then transmit the results to Donnie's wrist computer so he doesn't even have to move from where he is.
As quietly as he can, he pulls a milk crate over to the cot and sits down next to it. He's typing softly at his wrist computer, display dimmed to the lowest setting and the usual "beep boop" sounds of data input silenced. He's probably going over Leo's vitals, maybe taking a scan or two. Or six. Maybe he's just reviewing his work, over and over, while watching his brother to make sure he keeps breathing.]
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It's fitful, though. The occasional twitching of a finger, the turn of his head in his sleep. Around test five is when the results spike up; pinned and he can't get up, he's trying to get up but he's stuck, and the wind is knocked out of him, why can't he just get up, he can't breathe because of the pressure pinning him down and he can't shout-
He jerks awake, trying to sit up and can't because Shelldon's keeping him secure - that whole 'no moving' thing quite serious really - so he's left to quickly get his bearings. His eyes shift around quickly to figure out where he is, what's happening, what he needs to do.]
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He watches for a moment longer, before turning on the crate to rest his hand atop of Leo's and go back to the display on his computer, reading. They don't need to talk about it. He doesn't need to, and Leo doesn't want to.
Maybe this is what compelled him to come in here. Maybe somehow Donnie could tell (not that he prescribes to this woo woo science "twin" telepathy nonsense) that even if Leo wants to be left alone, he doesn't want to be alone.]
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It goes like that for a while, a few nights. Sometimes it's just the Krang, sometimes it's a fully converted Krang-Raph piloting that stupid mech suit, sometimes it's all three Krang, sometimes it's his brothers. But he keeps waking himself up in the same manner, wordless and shaken.
One of those nights he's staring at the ceiling (can't hold comics, can't hold his phone, grip too tired still to hold a tablet) and laying quietly.]
How much longer, Dee?
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Mikey would dote. Raph would fret. And their father would pile the guilt onto Leo, with just having witnessed his son in pain. Don, he can accept his brother having nightmares as a matter of course, and just exist there as confirmation, readily available, that it wasn't real.]
Tomorrow morning, [Don says from within his blanket pile, snuggled up in a hoodie as he reviews for the eighth time the procedure with explanatory diagrams on his tablet.] The last tools I need will be here as soon as April brings them. Cleanroom's converted, I have everything else. We're both as prepared as we're going to get. [Glances at Leo over his tablet.] No eating or drinking from here out. You can have water when you wake up after the procedure.
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[Because that will do it, right? Don fixing him, physically healing will solve the rest, won't it? It has to. It's the worst any of them have ever been injured, so someone has to get the experience and be a test subject, he guesses. And as great as the pampering and waiting on was the first day, Leonardo is internally screaming to be able to do things on his own again. To make his own food, use his own phone, get his own damn cup from the cupboard.
His vision traces the lines of the car's metal seams. He's just about got every single dent and ding in the ceiling memorized now. But he keeps his voice low:] Sick of this.
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Being stationary, or being scared?
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[Tap. Tap, tap.] Mikey would say yes. Probably.
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Donnie heaves a sigh before lowering the tablet to his bundled lap, staring down at it. He rubs the back of his neck (Leo), fiddles with the edge seam of his sleeve (Raph), rubs his toes together beneath the blankets (Mikey). An amalgamation of his brothers' tics, his own likely entrenched in theirs. All an equal part of each other.]
I'm not trying to make this about me, [he starts uncertainly, because that's a thing he does apparently. Not on purpose -not usually on purpose, but he doesn't know how else to impress upon his family that he gets it other than with experiential evidence. With proof.] And I don't know what it's like to do what you did, to make that decision. I couldn't. It's unfathomable.
[Buffs at a scuff on the tablet's casing with the hem of his hoodie.] I can't fix everything. But I don't want you to be afraid of tomorrow. Because I'm going to use every iota of my very considerable genius to fix what I can so flawlessly, so completely, that you will heal as quickly and painlessly as is possible. You'll be back to normal, you'll be free to walk and run and dance and whatever other urge occurs to you at the witching hours when we're supposed to be sleeping.
Everything else, [lifts tablet to gesture before lowering it back to his lap.] I don't know. Short of recreating the F.A.B. incident to keep us literally attached at the hip for the next twenty years, I don't know how to fix any of it. I just...don't want you to be afraid of anything I can control.
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[Honest is difficult. It is so difficult. But he's had a little too much time to reflect on himself, on what happened. What it could mean.
There is something that's been on his mind the last day or so. An inkling of an idea of a thought that's been slowly growing like mold in the back of his mind, festering and creeping into every other thought he's been able to have.]
I just... What if. What if there's something out there worse than the Krang?
We thought petty criminals were the worst, then there was Shredder. Then we thought Shredder was the worst, and then there was the Krang. What if - What if there's more.
[He swallows nervously, already a problem given how dry his mouth is.] What if I make another bad call like that? [The subway.] What if we have to make even worse choices?
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A WEEK LATER
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