(Author's Note: Warning. Torture. It might be gross. Sorry. Not sorry. Also, my arms are very tired. Writing a lot works out a bunch of small muscles.

I meant to ask what you guys think about Gaia. I created her as a kind, calm girl friend that Mikey could relate to who was not April, a kind of yin to his yang, and then she unexpectedly turned into a girlfriend who pulled Mikey's brothers into their relationship. She was always pansexual and polyamorous. But I had not originally planned on her becoming the "comfort lover" for all four brothers plus Karai. Interestingly enough, I had planned on a flirty thing with Donnie or Raph. I feel like Gaia needed to be created so the Mikey in my AU could have a friend to really rely on and connect with in ways he couldn't with anyone else, and so that there was another human turned mutant the family could share their experiences with.

Also, I listened to a whole bunch of "epic music" and "extreme music" on YouTube while writing this chapter, including the songs quoted here. There are YouTube channels for it; I recommend "Epic Music Channel," "Jennyni20," and "Trailer Music World". One of my favorite composers is Thomas Bergersen, who has done a lot of film trailer and video game music, I recommend his song "Children Of The Sun" for a great TMNT fanfiction soundtrack. Also, check out James Paget's "Together As One" - the version with TMNT as the background image, of course.)

For so long I was looking for the answers,
Waiting for dawn in the darkness of disaster no,
I found a way,
Broke through the chains,
Now I got a way,
Following this above
I'm marching on
(Get Ready),
We're not afraid anymore,
Don't close your eyes,
Not afraid anymore,
This is the night,
They may run but we are not afraid (afraid),
Now I'm the one that they try to run away from,
Victory comes, I've got gold running through my blood,
I found a way,
Broke through the chains,
Now I got a way,
Following this above
I'm marching on
(Get Ready),
We're not afraid anymore,
Don't close your eyes,
Not afraid anymore,
This is the night,
They may run but we are not afraid (afraid),
Can't stop,
Can't get enough, I've got gold running through my blood,
Get up,
Get all you want,
I've got gold running through my blood,
We're not afraid anymore,
Don't close your eyes,
Not afraid anymore,
This is the night,
They may run but we are not afraid (afraid),
We are not afraid
(I found a way, Broke through the chains,
Now I got a way,
Following this above I'm marching on)

-Mountains vs Machines, "Not Afraid"

I'm burning white
I'm a beacon in the night
Faster than light
If you stay you'll feel my might
I'm off the scale
The fuse inside has failed
My safety's blown
I'm a radiation zone

I'm going nuclear
Hotter than the surface of the sun
Smoking like a gun
I'm going nuclear
I'll melt through anything that's in my way
I'm brighter than the day
I'm going nuclear
I'm going nuclear

Don't get too close
In my core it's raining fire
I'll overload
If my temperature gets higher
You'll be exposed
To my limitless desire
Out of control
A reaction I can't hold

I'm going nuclear
Hotter than the surface of the sun
Smoking like a gun
I'm going nuclear
I'll melt through anything that's in my way
I'm brighter than the day

I'm going nuclear
Faster than a particle of light
Gonna burn all through the night
I'll melt through anything that's in my way
I'm brighter than the day
I'm going nuclear
I'm going nuclear

-Nik Ammar, "Nuclear"

Chapter Eleven

Mikey was deep in a void of terror, and a very distant part of him was aware that his right leg had been sliced into while the left was barely healing. The very distant part kept screaming that there was blood leaking, that he needed to fix it. He felt it echo painfully. He kept falling, and he kept hearing the voice of the Alchemist, laughing, teasing, telling him that he would die and his brothers would die. His left leg was on fire. His plastron was on fire. His left lung wasn't working. His heart struggled.

Mikey was dying. The Alchemist was killing him.

He cried into the darkness, and felt cold hands wrap around his wrists. Someone yanked him down, flipped him upright, settled him on cold marble stone. He bent forward, sucking in thin strips of oxygen that wasn't there. A pair of familiar, three-fingered hands covered in scars shoved against his chest a few times, and suddenly his shattered ribs were whole, his lung expanding. Gasping, Mikey straightened and stared right into the endless dark eye sockets of his neurological self, the damaged, cracked psychic clone he called Neural Mikey.

"Hey there," Neural Mikey said with a wide, empty grin, cracked at the edges.

"What's happening?" Mikey gasped.

"Everything hurts like hell," Neural Mikey said cheerfully. "Let's go swing on a nice axon and talk about it!"

"I c-can't move," Mikey whispered.

"Yes, you can. It's the trauma. Move away from it, you're not in the middle of it anymore. I pulled you out." Neural Mikey squeezed his hands. "Come on. Just a foot. There's no trauma here. You're okay."

Mikey whimpered. "N-N…I…" His right foot twitched and suddenly lurched. He would have stumbled, but his psychic self caught him.

"C'mon, let's walk. Remember when Donatello did this with you? I'll be nice." He patted Mikey's plastron gently.

Slowly, Mikey reached a stretch of neuronal web, but his knees gave out and Neural Mikey grabbed him. The stone floor hurt. He couldn't remember it hurting. Flashes of darker color shot across the cell bodies surrounding him; axons trembled. "Damn it," Neural Mikey muttered, "hang on." One of his arms flung out and sparked with blue electric impulse. Mikey squeezed his eyes shut and panted.

"Sorry about that. We're kind of falling apart a little. The healing power can only take so much. Bishop isn't playing around. He's going for your plastron next."

"Bishop," Mikey muttered. "He's a bad guy here. Bishop. Not the…not…the…Al…"

"You don't have to say his name if you don't want to," Neural Mikey said kindly.

"I want to g-go h-home…"

"I know, kiddo. It's being worked on."

Mikey breathed deeply. "Donnie can do it."

"Sure he can," the raspy voice said soothingly. "Both of them, they're working on it. Gaia, too."

Mikey blinked. "Gaia? Wait, how? She's…"

"A very, very long range telepath," Neural Mikey said patiently. "What did you think that meant?"

"Yeah but…through other dimensions?"

Neural Mikey shrugged. "Physics is funny like that."

Mikey shivered and curled on the floor. "I don't feel well. I hope they come find me."

Neural Mikey sat cross-legged and rubbed his arm. "Yeah. They will. It won't be long." He trailed off, and was silent.

Gaia had conjured an image of a map, and was using her index finger to draw a line. "Okay, we're here. And…here's where Bishop is. This…this general area. But I think I can pinpoint it a little better. With help."

Big Don nodded. "I know where that is. Literally the other end of the city. But there are no buildings in that area. Nothing but docks and the river."

He paused. His finger drew an uncertain line. "Wait. Shit. Shiiit." He stared at her. "It's on the river, isn't it."

She bit her lip, nodding.

"An island," Big Mike whispered.

"Please tell me you have a boat," Little Raph sighed.

The older turtles looked at each other and grinned.

"Oh, we have a boat," Big Raph said toothily. "We got a big fucking boat."

"What do you call it?" Little Don asked.

Leo smirked. "The Shell Sub."

"Oh, nice. Remind me to invent something like it when we get home."

"Guys," Gaia said.

They looked at her. She looked pale and shaky. Little Raph quickly wrapped his arms around her from behind.

"I can't stretch that far on my own, I can only show you where I think it is. But I need a boost."

"Here," the Hecate incarnation called out, and lifted her hand. A small sphere of pure energy drifted from her hand. Closing her eyes, Gaia caught it, squeezed her fist, and inhaled, leaning against Little Raph. She opened her eyes, which glowed gold for an instant.

"That's better. Okay. Give me a second." She stared at the map, cat eyes in a very narrow slit.

She burst into tears. Little Raph's arms was the only thing keeping her on her feet.

"He's…Bishop is vivisecting him to test the healing factor."

Little Raph and Big Mike turned deathly pale.

A distant part of Mikey was screaming, screaming, was running out of breath to scream, was running out of blood to bleed. Mikey stayed on the checkered stone floor, shivering. Slowly, he lifted his head, meeting Neural Mikey's eyeless sockets, which were crackling with electricity. "I need to get out of here."

Neural Mikey frowned. "And go where? That serum they keep injecting you with keeps you in your own brain."

Mikey burst into tears. "I don't know. I don't know. What do I do? He's killing me. He poisoned me and he's killing my brothers!"

"Dude, no, it's not that battle anymore. Remember? You're not on that planet anymore. Wrong memory." But that blacked, cracked arm didn't stop moving, the scarred hand didn't stop rubbing circles up and down his arm and shoulder. "This one is John Bishop. You're in a different reality, your counterparts are older, and Agent Bishop is a creepy human immortal who likes experimenting on mutants. Right now he keeps cutting you to test your healing factor." Neural Mikey paused, lifting his head. "And right now he and Baxter Stockman are mopping up all the blood and feeding you replenishing fluids. They want to keep you breathing, at least until the healing factor tires out. Your body is taking it surprisingly well. But your left thigh isn't closing up very well. Imagine that."

Dragging in a breath, Mikey pushed himself off the floor. "I'm gonna go look."

"You sure? It's kind of ugly."

"You're kind of ugly."

"Fair enough." Neural Mikey's scarred smirk gave him a bit of strength. "But I'm pulling you back in here if it gets worse. It'll probably get worse."

Mikey straightened his spine and lifted his chin. "I'm a ninja. I can take it."

Neural Mikey sighed. "Yeah, that's my you." He snapped his fingers. Mikey was caught in a fierce gust of wind and darkness, and light exploded everywhere.

His eyes opened quickly. A brain with an eye attached stared down at him. "Oh, there you are. You passed out. You were about to miss the best part."

Mikey felt his breath quicken. He's going for your plastron next.

"N-no," he managed to rasp.

Someone chuckled.

Mikey turned his head right and left, taking in the towels and gauze soaked in blood, the IV needles in both his arms, the bloody scalpels and syringes on the tray table, the fresh scars on both his arms.

John Bishop approached. In his right hand, he held a small electric reciprocating saw. Mikey recognized it from medical shows on television.

And then Bishop turned it on.

The rotation and vibration of that blade, the way it looked like a row of shivering teeth, bore into Mikey's mind, and he inwardly cringed.

"No?" Bishop asked in a soft voice. "That's not really an option you have, little one."

Mikey stared at the whirring blade, at the handle it was attached to, the cord that ran from it into one of the computers surrounding him. If he could get just enough power, any power—

"I can tell you're thinking about pulling its plug," Stockman said, his eye stalk weaving, nearly pressing against the jar. "I would not recommend it."

"You see," Bishop said, "We decided to skip your next dose of Baxter's wonderful anti-psionic serum, just to see what would happen. You were unconscious, but your powers were not. And believe me, it was quite a show. We were lucky to have backed up the computers on thumb drives, because most of them shut down. And the electrical sparks. How beautiful. We had to put out a few fires, too. But we got everything back online. You're very impressive. You should see the results of our portable MRI machine. There were parts of your brain lighting up that we'd never known. Baxter here wanted to do a little surgery, but we'd have to wait until you were awake."

He paused, and Mikey felt terror rip through him. They wouldn't…

"I don't know, though. We could, but we'd probably waste time."

If a brain and eye could have pouted, Stockman would have.

"Now…" Bishop bent down and touched the very tip of the saw to just above the center line in Mikey's plastron. A bead of blood leaked across his skin, and he screamed.

"Where were we?"

As the saw pressed in, and in, and abruptly down, Mikey felt a pain like nothing else erupt from his chest. He felt his body stiffen, felt a nightmarish fire sear down his torso. He heard himself howl from the depths, felt his eyes roll back as his brain began to misfire into a seizure.

Mikey fell into pure darkness again, as his upper plastron slowly began to crack open.

Gaia's sobbing hadn't stopped until all three younger turtles had gathered around her, touching and rocking her. Near the end, as she stopped shaking, Little Leo had pressed his mouth to hers and murmured words in Japanese, which she repeated. She was grasping Little Donnie's hand, and abruptly he screamed and fell back, caught by his counterpart.

As Gaia recovered, Little Donnie continued screaming, eyes wide, arms wrapped around himself. His brothers hurried to him. But it was Gaia who soothed him with a long kiss and a repeated "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'll try to weaken the link…"

The older turtles just stared at them.

"So, what was that about?" Big Raph folded his arms.

Little Leo glanced up, pale. "Donnie's connection with Mikey is based on how Mikey is feeling. If Donnie's in pain like this…"

Big Mike swallowed "Gaia said Bishop is…you know, cutting Little Me open."

Big Don's arms tightened around his small counterpart until the little one stopped shaking. "We have to go. We have to go now."

Distantly, Loki waved. "Good luck, kids! Have fun storming the castle!" He and Hecate vanished.

Gaia stared tearfully at the younger turtles. "I love you. Bring him home." And she was gone.

Big Leo, breathing harshly, spread his arms, palms out. "Everyone hang on!"

A flash of light and energy burst around them, and they opened their eyes.

Mike gasped desperately and collapsed onto his side, closing his eyes. He could hear Little Donnie whimpering, could hear Splinter chanting something.

They were in the dojo.

Heavy hands gripped his shoulders. "Mikey, you'd better be with us," Raphael's voice growled at him.

He coughed. "Yeah. I'm—I'm here."

He sat up with his brother's help. His entire body felt like it was on fire, pains he could hardly identifying shooting through him. When he looked up, Little Raph was grasping the sides of his head, teeth clenched in silent agony. Little Leo had one arm around him and one arm around Little Don, whose face was buried in his shoulder.

Mike bit his lip. "Wh-where's Don?" he asked.

"Lab, with April," Raph said. "Pinpointing that island Gaia told us about. Leo's gettin' the Shell Sub ready. April and Casey have been doing a lot of busy work while we were in the spirit plane. We're moving. Up. Get up, get up." He paused, frowning. "You…you're feeling his pain, aren't you?"

"I…I think so," Mike panted. "It's…there's fire. Hurts. Like everything's sliced up."

"He's screaming," Little Raph was gasping. "Never…never heard him scream like this…"

Leo was helping the younger turtles stand. Little Don had calmed down and stood nearly as tall as Leo, a stone-like expression on his face, his eyes white. Little Leo, his arm still around Little Raph, looked about ready to eviscerate someone, while Little Raph, rubbing his temples, had a frighteningly calm look on his face. Mike knew that look extremely well.

Raphael was going to go burn down the world to save his baby brother.

"Guys!" came Don's voice, "Sub's ready, I've got trackers, we're going, let's go!"

"Good luck, my students," Splinter said, steel in his voice. He walked over to Mike and opened his arms. Mike felt himself tear up. He hugged his sensei as hard as he dared. When they parted, only Raph was left holding out his hand. Smiling at Splinter, Mike grabbed Raph's hand squeezing hard, nodding once. Raph repeated it. They never did need words.

Once they had gotten to the Shell Sub and prepared it, Little Raph fell to his knees and began to slam his fists on the floor so hard it echoed. Little Donnie crouched with him and rubbed his carapace. Little Raph muttered something between clenched teeth. Little Don said something in a whisper. Little Raph nodded, letting Little Don take his hand. Little Leo took his other hand. They knelt, meditating, eyes closed, and there were tears streaming down Little Raph's face.

Mike struggled to stay out of it, as white-hot pain lanced through his limbs. He gripped his seat, his heart going out to the little ones. And then he felt it: A twisting, winding thread of power snaking under the force of the fog blocking his powers. He grabbed that power and pushed it toward the younger turtles, regardless of how the fog bit at him.

Little Leo glanced up, startled. Mike watched those dark blue eyes narrow, then widen, relief softening them. Mike pushed more empathic energy into the thread, until he could see the muscles of Little Raph's shoulder's loosen. They all looked at him then, and he managed a grin. He was helping! A little!

Then the pain hit.

Mike would have fallen out of his seat if not for the seatbelt.

"Mikey!" Leo said in his ear. He felt the younger turtles rush to hold onto him, and when he looked up, they were looking at him in fear and worry.

"Are you all right, Mikey?" Leo asked.

"No," he whispered, "he's not."

Electric currents ripped and tore across his body and his brain. Again and again, he felt his body seize up, convulse, shiver. His throat muscles spasmed as he coughed. Everything smelled like ozone and burnt flesh and blood and metal.

"Enough," a distorted voice said. "He's awake."

"Come on now, Little Mikey," and he recognized Bishop immediately. Fucking Bishop.

"Come now, it's time to wake up. You're missing the fun! Don't make us give you more shocks. Although that was a good demonstration! That healing power of yours is like a caged beast. It's weakening, though. I wonder if we can restore it? Should we poke around your brain meat? Should we do that?"

Something inside him screeched in rage. He managed to lift his eyelids.

"F-f-fuck y-you…"

"Well, I've missed you too, sunshine."

Don't call me that, you prick.

Things came back into view. There was so much blood. On the tray table, the saw's teeth dripped blood. Bishop's gloved hands were stained red. The nerves in Mikey's torso were throbbing, on fire. He dared to lift his head and look down, but not before he watched Bishop smile broadly.

His upper plastron was a mess. A sheen of bright red blood, dripping and pooling down to the edge of his plastron just between his thighs, covered the sight of flesh and keratin and bone.

Mikey flashed back to a memory of being trapped in a collapsing building with Raph, surrounded by otherdimensional creatures seemingly made out of shadows with teeth. His plastron had been cracked and broken then, too. He remembered that even in unconsciousness, he had managed to move plates and scutes, seal cracks, clot blood, just enough, just enough for help to arrive and get them home.

Just enough. Just. Enough.

In anger, in fear, he focused.

In his mind, he was growling.

He began to burn up. He was freezing cold.

"Now, that's more like it." Bishop sounded awed.

Fuck you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you.

He kept pushing, kept growling, felt power build up beneath that trapping fog.

They decided not to inject me again.

Mikey focused on that, pushed at the fog as hard as he could.

The fog lifted a little more, and a little more.

In his mind, Mikey grinned.

He could hear metallic things rattling, he could hear glass breaking and wood crashing.

And then the electric shocks came again.

And again.

and

again

Mikey felt his heart muscle strain, felt it almost stop completely

He sensed his brothers beyond the metal door

He heard the metal door crash to the floor, heard his counterpart roar, "BISHOP!"

And then Mikey heard nothing. Nothing

there was nothing

at

all.

Donatello nearly crashed the Shell Sub into the island, and by the time it surfaced, the younger turtles and Michelangelo were snarling, bodies vibrating, crowded around the exit.

Don had never hit an exit button so hard in his life.

They exploded into the compound, ignoring dark halls and locked doors as Mike led them at full speed down one hallway.

The pain was worse now, desperately worse, and it was literally the only thing moving him now, the pain and the rage and the fear and the pure aggression pumping adrenaline. By his side was Little Raph, and he could sense the exact same energy driving the green-eyed boy. Their breathing was matched, their steps matched. Up ahead there was another door, except this one was glowing red.

Mike growled very low in his throat and surged.

His fists connected with metal before he was aware, and again. Little Raph joined, and their fists were in unison, and neither heard the yelling behind them. Mike kicked with both feet, threw his shell against the door, and finally, with a cry of absolute agony, pressed both hands to the door, grabbed the power inside his brain, and shoved as hard as he could.

The metal door warped, creaked, groaned, and fell from its hinges.

The metal door crashed to the floor.

Mike roared, "BISHOP!" and took four steps into the room before feeling where John Bishop stood and pushing his fist in that direction, to his right. Without looking, he closed an invisible fist around the tall man's neck and ripped him off his feet. His vision began to clear when he heard the loud, heavy thud of a body hitting a wall, then a floor.

His brothers, both versions, were standing in front of him and at his side, weapons drawn. Mike thought that was adorable. He didn't need weapons. Not anymore.

He turned fully and saw Bishop crumbled on the floor next to a terminal, getting on his hands and knees.

Nope.

Again, Mike slammed him against the terminal, warping the metal. He stomped over to him and felt the pure energy of rage radiating from his own body like an aura.

It was a feeling he had very rarely felt, not since that battle when Kluh had threatened to kill his family. Even then it hadn't been quite this strong.

Bishop. Bishop had lied to them. Bishop hadn't left them alone. Bishop had taken what was his, stolen a bond he had formed, a gentle brotherly relationship that was supposed to transcend dimensions. Bishop was trying to destroy everything he and his Little Mikey counterpart had built together.

Nope. Can't have that. Can't ever have that.

He punched, feeling Bishop's jaw crack and splinter against his knuckles. Whatever sounds were happening around him didn't matter. He knew Little Mikey was in this room, but he also knew there was a pair of Donatellos to help him. And Little Mikey would be fine, he would be—

Mikey?

His mind paused, the anger simmering, even as his hands grabbed at Bishop's blood-splattered white coat…

Blood!

Little Me…?

Oh, hell.

Why can't I feel him? Where is he? What happened?

"You…you fucker…" He hauled Bishop up until they were almost nose to nose. "What did you do to him?"

And John Bishop, blood spilling down his chin, laughed in his face.

"He's dead," he hissed, his jaw barely even swelling. "Don't you get it? You're too late, Michelangelo. I've won. He's mine. I have control over that magnificent power, I did something it couldn't heal. Quite a ride. I enjoyed it very much. I'd like to keep it." And his neck stretched a little, his head even closer, and he whispered, "And I know you can feel it. You, my friend, are next."

Mike turned cold.

He shook his head, his arms trembling, the adrenaline still coursing through him but the rage becoming something else, coiling, spinning, vibrating. Very slowly, he turned his head.

The two Donnies were feverishly working on Little Mikey's body, one pressing on his chest while the other breathed into him. Little Leo was frantically looking through every cabinet, tossing items, while Big Leo had his hands on Little Mikey's head, deep in meditation, Little Raph right with him. And Raph, his own brother…

Raph was moving to stand at his side, stepping casually over the cyborg body of Baxter Stockman – when had Stockman been there? – with narrowed golden eyes burning like stars. "Mikey," he said softly. "It ain't worth it. I know exactly what you're feeling, and it's not you who should feel it."

Mike took a deep breath, closing his eyes, snapping them open when Bishop giggled.

"He's right, you know. This isn't you. You don't have the nerve. You can't kill me."

"You can't even die," Raph snapped at him.

Bishop's grin widened, and the bones of his jaw scraped and grated together as they slowly began to heal. Mike punched him again, just because he could. Self-healing was overrated, anyway, right?

"Mike…" Raph rasped.

But Mike was far past caring. The thing coiled in his head, the rage, the energy, the beautiful burning, was whispering inside him. He lashed out again, through Bishop, and as he heard bones crunch and flesh squelch, he heard electronics snap, he heard fire burst. The force in his mind tore through the wisps of fog that clung to it, and he screamed.

And his scream echoed around the room, and things exploded.

Mike tossed Bishop against another wall, and again turned his head and stared at what was left of himself. Things cluttered the floor and Little Leo was picking them up, his body's motion beautifully fluid and nearly apologetic. There was now a ventilator mask covering Little Mikey's mouth, and Don had a defibrillator in his hands. Everything was happening in slow motion.

Don't bother. S'too late. Sorry, guys, it's too late, I'm so sorry, I'm sorry…

He turned back to where he'd tossed Bishop, and the room was becoming ringed with small fires. Mike didn't understand how, but he reached out and smothered them. The power seemed to be acting completely on its own now. He looked at the computers running. Suddenly every thumb drive ejected itself and flew to land on the tray table that was already covered in bloody things. Don, who had applied the paddles, glanced up in confusion and then horror. Mike had no idea why, but he was sure he himself looked a little monstrous. He could feel his eyes glowing. When he looked down at himself, his body was emitting a blue glow.

"Mikey?" Raph was calling, but it sounded too far away. "Whatever you're gonna do, don't do it!"

He moved closer to Bishop's body, staring down. Bishop's torso looked oddly twisted, both arms broken. Mike tilted his head, frowning.

Bishop coughed, a bloody glob landing on his own chest. He opened his eyes and smiled. "Bet…you're curious," he gasped.

"I mostly just hate you," Mike said, without emotion.

"F-funny. That's what he said, before I killed him." And Bishop laughed, choking.

Growling, Mike kicked his chest in, and Bishop's body spasmed, his eyelids falling closed.

Yeah, fuck you.

And the burning in his mind flared. The power inside him screamed, roared, pushed outward in every direction.

I'm done with this.

He didn't hear Raph gasp behind him.

In the vast distance, Mike heard "Clear!" and a pause, and "clear!" again, and then silence. And then Don was speaking again, but it didn't matter.

It didn't matter.

He wondered if Bishop would burn to a crisp, or if his bones would remain and the flesh just grow back. He wondered if he should try it.

…don't…

The voice in his head was tiny, and very very weak. He blinked and frowned again, turning all the way around.

Mike…stop…it's enough...

Enough?

It was enough.

He shook his head. The burning thing in his head was starting to disappear. The numbness was becoming feeling, and that feeling was calm. Pure, soft, familiar, carefree calm. He remembered it, and he drifted, eyes half closing.

Somehow, he was in Raph's arms, and Raph was hugging in from behind, holding him up, and Mike couldn't remember falling.

"Mikey, it's okay, it's okay," and Raph's voice was thick with emotion, and he couldn't remember getting emotional…

Tears were streaming down his face. He reached up to wipe them away, and something tight in his chest loosened. He let out a wild, raw sob, and his brother tightened his grip, and suddenly he wanted to run to Little Mikey, and suddenly he was there, at the table.

He couldn't remember how.

Everyone was staring at him.

He couldn't look at his counterpart's body. He lowered his head, fists clenched. He could feel himself shaking. He heard Raph draw in a sharp gasp and a mutter of "Oh, shit…"

Mike bit his lip and stared at the floor.

"I'm sorry," he gasped, warmth and cool and light filling him, the rage completely gone.

"I'm so, so sorry…"

"Mikey…" That was Leo.

"I couldn't help him, I can't—I'm really sorry, I…"

"Mike, stop, it's…"

"I wish…I'm sorry, I just…"

Someone grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him.

"Mikey," Donatello said, his voice raw, "He's alive. It's okay. You linked with him. He's alive."

…what?

"What?"

He blinked, lifting his head to meet Don's eyes, which were shining with tears.

"Your energy," Don said. "When it flared. It filled the room. It took over. It must have connected to Mikey's mind. After I defibrillated his heart the second time, it started beating. It shouldn't have, even when I hit him twice, it shouldn't have happened, his heart shouldn't have started beating after all that shock torture. He really should be dead, Mike. You…I don't know what you did."

What did I do?

What did we do?

Enough. It was enough.

He struggled to draw in air, felt Don's hands grab his. "Breathe, bro. It's okay, none of us are anywhere close to okay right now. But you have to breathe."

Mike breathed. He breathed, and he stepped up close, and he watched as Little Mikey's heavily bandaged chest rose and fell with the ventilator. His hand shook as it reached out and touched the freckled face. The skin was warm.

Hey, Little Mikey whispered in his mind. He was smiling.

Mikey smiled back. Glad you're still around. We missed you.

This time, his tears were of relief.

Take these arms
And use them up
There nothing to keep

In moments of
The cold and rust
I'll be your relief

Alone
Alive
my own
my light

Take these arms
Only
Take these arms
For eternity
Take these arms
give it all to me
Take these arms
Only

-Killer Tracks, "Take These Arms"

Tonight I fight a thousand lights,
Exploding stars inside my heart,
From thoughts emerge a universe,
From the shadows to heavens,
Let the flames roll,
Count your Blessings,
I feel the rising sun,
I let it fill my lungs,
Light the sky,
Light the sky,
Light the sky,
Shining brighter,
Light the sky,
Light the sky,
Light the sky electrify (electrify),
Today I'll make the moment quake,
A cosmic wind against my skin,
The lightning strikes begin new life,
From the shadows to heavens,
Let the flames roll,
Count your Blessings,
I feel the rising sun,
I let it fill my lungs,
Light the sky,
Light the sky,
Light the sky,
Shining brighter,
Light the sky, Light the sky, Light the sky electrify (electrify),
Tonight I live a thousand lives,
Light the sky,
Light the sky,
Light the sky,
Shining brighter,
Light the sky,
Shining brighter,
Light the sky,
Light the sky electrify.

Mountains vs Machines, "Light The Sky