The Lair: 1987 Cartoonverse
Leonardo and Michelangelo were huddled up, peering over their brainy brother's shoulder, and it was starting to irritate him. Perking his head up from behind the television he shook a screwdriver at them. "You know, you can't rush genius, guys!"
"Yeah, but we want to help if we can." Leonardo reminded him, pacing slightly.
"Have patience, Leonardo." Master Splinter reminded him from the couch. It prompted Donatello to look longingly at where Splinter and April sat patiently, wishing his brothers would do the same.
"Which includes giving me breathing room." The inventor reminded them with a small even grin.
Michelangelo sighed, deciding that if he were going to get chased away, the best use for his time would be to prepare some munchies to fortify them for the trip. It left their fearless leader standing there, still watching the slow process of wiring up the alien box into the television. Donatello gritted his teeth, briefly considering poking his elder brother with his bo staff to gain some extra room; not to mention better light. Amazingly his youngest brother came to his rescue.
"Leonardo, dude, what do you want on your pizza?" Michelangelo called from the kitchen, digging through the cupboards for toppings.
"Um… how about Sushi, ice cream and banana?" he called, walking kitchen-wards, and mercifully leaving his brother to work in peace.
"How is it going, Donatello?" April asked quietly after a long period of silence punctuated only by the sounds of chaos in the kitchen.
"Whatever this alien machinery is, it's extremely complex. I hope I get some time to study it after everything settles down again." He replied, his tongue sticking out the side of his mouth in thought. "It seems to be a control device that is capable of generating large amounts of power through the command process. It must be this extra energy that powers the portal."
"But you have figured it out, right?" The reporter leaned forward, placing her elbows on her knees.
"I'm…. not sure. I know I can get it working, but for how long is what I'm worried about…"
Sewers: 2003 Cartoonverse.
"Damn it!"
In the middle of the clammy darkness several bricks dislodged from the wall and skidded into the foul sewer water. The foot that propelled them stomped angrily on the cement, and Raph debated the merits of kicking the wall again. But it provided far less destruction and therefore far less satisfaction than he had hoped for. He had considered screaming, too; but he knew he was a bit too close to the lair to chance it. The last thing he wanted were his brothers to actually hear him and come looking, thinking he was in trouble.
He had gotten over halfway to Casey's place when he had stopped dead in his walk; and the cold slimy feeling that he had just made a mistake washed over him. Despite not really wanting to be around his family at that moment the sudden thought that he might have just left them vulnerable to some freakish cloned mutant assassin struck him in the same way a throbbing headache strikes the back of one's neck. He had turned around them, heading back for the lair like a man on a mission. If anyone could stop a bad mirror of himself it should be himself… right?
Still he wasn't in the mood to go back to the lair right then. Anger bubbled just beneath his skin; so keenly that he wished he could scratch a rip in his shoulders and let it bleed out. Half of him really wished that this pitiful clone would actually turn out to be sent by an enemy just so he could have the satisfaction of ripping him apart.
Right before the anger built up to the breaking point he snapped straight upwards, and started to run down the sewer tunnel. If he ran fast enough his mind would shut off, and he would hear only the sounds of his feet hitting the cold ground and his body fueling his movements. He rounded a corner and indulged in a leaping sidekick, striking an old board that he had leaned up against one of the junction ledges weeks ago. He didn't know why he had so carefully set it up then, just the impression that it might be useful someday. It snapped in half with a satisfying crack, one chunk crumbling and sinking into the muck at the bottom of the sewer, the other still precariously balanced on the ledge. For a few long seconds he listened to his breath hiss in and out of his mouth. But as his mind cleared, his vision hazed a tint of red again and he stared at the board maliciously.
Words didn't come out, just a guttural yell as he smashed his fist into the board. The second time it went clear through, and the third time he was just pushing fragments of wood around the sewer. Turning he muttered to the bricks in the wall. "I was supposed to go on patrol with Casey tonight. I was supposed to have a nice normal evening. Maybe it even might be decent, but no. Something always has to happen. Some strange shit always has to go down." He snarled one last time for good measure before he turned and sank down into a crouch, his shell against the clammy cold wall, soaking up the cool, damp air.
Alone, the darkness was comforting. He almost wished for the boredom that usually irritated him so much down here. But the nagging thought at the back of his mind was the fact that he had stared into the smaller turtle's face, and realized the sincerity in his bizarre explanation. Sincerity that he didn't think Mikey or Don caught on, because like himself it was shaded with layers of deception. The difference was instead of anger it was sarcasm; which now that he thought about it wasn't all that different. And therein lay what bothered Raph the most. What if it were true? What if this turtle really was another version of himself? How easily could his brothers see through this counterpart? It created an odd feeling of vulnerability that sat very poorly in the pit of Raph's stomach.
He stood and stretched, listening to his shoulders and neck pop as he did so. At least the angry part of him was still holding on to the hope that it was an enemy clone.
The Lair: 2003 Cartoonverse
Master Splinter's room was filled with the heady scent of myrrh incense, so much that it made Raphael's eyes water a bit. He took to sitting on his hands as he knelt to keep from rubbing them.
The elder rat smiled, watching out of the corner of his eye as the teapot started to boil. His Michelangelo did the exact same thing, even to this very day, and something about the effort to hide his desire to fidget and itch was endearing. The extra bit of effort his sons put forward to appear collected even when they weren't was something that never escaped the master's notice. And unless he was trying to teach them something where honest clarity was required he had to admit that the effort bought a hidden smile to his lips. Still, he eyed the newcomer with the solidity of a mountain. "Why don't we start at the beginning, my son…"
"How far back does that go?" Raphael queried, frantically searching his mind for truly early memories. He could have sworn he heard Master Splinter chuckle.
"Tell me about your journey here, do not spare the details." The rat gave another chuckle as he heard the audible sigh of relief from the young turtle facing him. Standing and keeping watch he poured two cups of strong green tea.
Raphael stared at the cup of pungent liquid, with an expression of distaste, but picked it up when the look on Splinter's face seemed to demand it. He wondered if this was somehow a test. Then again, maybe he was dreaming and the tea would snap him out of it, but after his thrilling afternoon in the library with his counterpart he was fairly sure that he was wide awake. "Ok… I think it started with April's news report. There was some sort of reality-television invention that would broadcast; well I'm not sure really, three-dimensional images I think. And Donatello had what was once a working dimensional portal, but is right now more of a big piece of metal with buttons wired up through other things in the lair, notably the TV. This reality television device must have also been of worth to Shredder, because he sabotaged it and caused it to project his mutant goons into our lair, and probably everyone else's house who was tuned in. And when they started smashing things up we decided to see hitting their images would do any good. It did, and in the course of things I missed a block and got slammed backwards, but instead of hitting the wall, I hit the portal and then your library and ended up face to face with… myself." He winced a little, thinking that it still didn't sound any more logical than the first few times. Splinter was stroking his chin, staring at him thoughtfully, but he said nothing. Finally Raphael added the question nagging at the bottom of his brain. "Can I ask if you even believe any part of a story that corny?"
Slowly the hint of a smile curled beneath quivering whiskers. "Sometimes it is not the story, but how it is told that matters."
"That doesn't say much for the truth, Master."
Splinter clicked his tongue against the top of his mouth. "I never said I condoned a lie."
Raphael took in a breath, a rare pause to think before he spoke. "Truth or not, I guess I don't really understand why you would believe me… or trust me. Heck, if I were you I wouldn't believe me. I have been listening to what has come out of my mouth, and even though it's true it sounds like something Michelangelo reads in the Weekly World News." His shoulders fell slightly after he spoke.
This time Splinter allowed the smile to be visibly in his expression. "Sometimes there are things that brothers miss, that only fathers can see."
The Lair: 1987 Cartoonverse
"I think I got it!" Donatello popped up from behind the television wearing a familiar 'ah-ha!' expression.
Walking in from the kitchen, Michelangelo nearly dropped his slice of pizza. "Got what?"
"When I turn this device on, it should restore power to the portal." His brother replied, standing and brushing dust from his knees.
"Then what are we waiting for?" Leonardo asked, finishing his slice of pizza in one bite, bringing the rest of the pie over to the couch for the others.
Coming out from behind the portal, the inventor shuffled his feet a little, looking at the floor. "What is it dude?' Michelangelo prompted.
"I'm not sure that the device can keep the portal up and running for very long. Our portal is, strictly speaking, broken." He confessed biting his lower lip.
Leonardo walked up to the portal, eying it thoughtfully. "Can we all get through it?"
"We can all get through it. What I'm worried about is that we won't be able to get back!" the brainy turtle furrowed his brow.
"You mean it's like a one-way trip, dude?" the smile was slowly starting to fade from the youngest brother's face.
"There has to be some way of getting you all back here!" April wrung her hands in worry.
Donatello bit his bottom lip. "I have been thinking about that. If I stay here, I could be able to fix the portal and keep it open longer."
"I don't think that's a good idea." His elder brother chided. "We don't know what kind of world we'll find on the other side… or how long it will take for us to find Raphael."
Donatello gave an exasperated little sigh, looking over to Master Splinter for advice.
Splinter leaned back, refusing to be rattled by the news. His whiskers were pert with attention. "In everything you do, know that you are stronger as a team and as a family" was all he said.
Leonardo placed a resolute on his features. "We won't split up. Whatever we face on the other side of that portal, we face it together!" He paused, gathering his brothers around him.
Donatello lagged for a second, picking up a control pad he had stripped from the alien computer. "If I'm very lucky, I will be able to control the portal remotely." He paused and looked over at the couch. "If something burns out, check the wires that connect the device to the television and the television to the portal, first."
"We'll make sure to keep an eye on it." April reassured him, crossing her fingers.
"Take care, my sons." Leaning on his walking stick, the mutated human touched the shoulders of the three turtles, as if granting them his blessing.
Taking in a deep breath, Donatello turned the portal on, and it crackled to life with a hazy blue glare. "I suggest we all go through at once, I'm not sure how long it will stay up."
His brother nodded and stepped forward. "Come on, let's find Raphael."
"Dude, what do you think we'll find on the other side? Dimension X? Some nasty alien combat arena? Prehistoric Earth?" Michelangelo's questions were the last thing April and Splinter saw or heard of the three.
Lair: 2003 Cartoonverse
"You're pacing." The words were mumbled between mouthfuls of chips.
Leo stared back at his little brother, wondering how he could be peacefully eating junk food and watching B horror movies at a time like this. Mikey gave him such an obnoxious grin that he decided his brother would not get the honor of a response. "You kinda look like Raph when you stare at me like that!" Mike added, not wiping the grim off his face.
"Mike, will you get serious?" Leo asked, trying to calm his expression to something other than a Raph-like glare.
"What, you mean like you?" the grin still didn't fade. When Leo gave a little sigh that hinted how wound up he actually was, Mikey bit his lip. "I though you were going to go meditate?"
I was. Leo thought as he fell silent and resumed pacing. But he couldn't clear his mind. No matter how many times he told himself that Master Splinter could take care of himself he still felt the burden of worry. After what seemed to be an achingly long time, he decided that maybe Mikey was right after all, and some distraction was in order. Giving a deeper sigh, he slumped into the chair next to his baby brother and mutely nodded his thanks when a bag of chips was pressed into his lap. He was halfway through an internal calculation on exactly how many actors it took to fill the costume of a giant radioactive cockroach when a sound poured into the room…a strange, unearthly crackling sound of static interference. Leo furrowed his brows and stood up to tap the TV, but Mike's eyes were wide. "What's wrong?"
Mikey shook his head and stood up, moving towards the library, offering the vague answer of "that's the same sound." When he neared the open doorway, his eyes went even wider. "Leo, come over here!" he practically howled.
When the blue clad leader arrived, he tensed, reaching out for a katana. Hovering in midair, right in front of the library door was a glowing blue circle edged in snapping bolts of electricity. "What is that?" he murmured.
"I was so hoping you would know." Mikey muttered, and reached out to try to touch it. It earned him a swift yank backwards from his older brother.
"Don't touch it! It could be a trap!"
"It could be a portal…" Mike suggested, seriously.
As if fate was playing a cruel trick, just as the words left Mike's mouth Leo looked up to watch as three rather familiar forms walked out of the crackling circle and materialized directly in front of them on the other side of the haze. Slowly as the energy portal faded into nothingness, the forms clarified into things that were unmistakably ninja turtles.
"How about…. the lair?!" The front most turtle was saying, as if in answer to some unspoken question. Leo narrowed his eyes, somewhat dismayed to see that yes, indeed, it was a turtle much like him wearing a bandana the same color as his.
"Dude, did we even go anywhere?" The orange clad one was asking as they both took a look at the library. Only the turtle in the back actually turned around towards the doorway where Mike and Leo were framed.
Donatello's cry of dismay at the fading portal turned into a cry of surprise at what he saw. Leo faced him; katana at the ready, waiting for any wrong move while beside him Mikey furrowed his brow in confusion. "I'm fairly sure we went somewhere, Michelangelo…"
The orange clad newcomer turned and his expression went from one of boredom to intense curiosity. "Dude, check it out! Us!" It prompted both him and his counterpart to grin despite the situation, and it made Leonardo whirl around.
The blue clad newcomer immediately put his hands up in a gesture of non-aggression. "We're not here to hurt anyone… we're just looking for our brother."
Leo didn't advance, but he didn't put down his weapon, either. He simply watched the three new turtles with an expression of calm skepticism. All five turtles lapsed into a tense silence as they stared at one another.
"I think I figured it out!" Don's voice wasn't very loud, but it made everyone jump in the silence. "The sensor readings I got from the security systems indicate that there was a huge electrical jump in the library at the time that strange turtle appeared. It's consistent with the power necessary for dimensional transport." The purple clad turtle came rounding the corner with a long printout shoved in his hand.
"That's great, Donnie." Leo replied, waving him over. "But does it explain these guys?"
Don's jaw dropped as he peered around the corner and came face to face with himself.