The Shellraiser dinged and its doors slid open, leaving the turtles and Splinter to take in the view in front of them.
They had known from the second everyone had been reunited that everything was going to be okay. Still, only now, seeing their home in front of them, did they feel as though they could finally take a breath and sink into the comfort that their battle was finally over.
One by one, they stepped down from the vehicle and into the lair they hadn't seen in far too long.
There remained a distinct lifelessness about the place, though everyone knew that within a matter of hours, everything would be back to normal.
Dust hung in the air like the ghosts of memories come and gone, giving a haunted feeling despite the group that now re-entered the place being the embodiments of the so-called ghosts. Cobwebs loomed in corners and dirtied their favorite arcade games. The light filtering through the periscope ledge was dimmed by dirtiness usually fought back by their maintenance.
Raphael stretched with a yawn. "I'm gonna start getting this place cleaned up."
Michelangelo wondered for a moment why his brother didn't give himself any time to rest. It was far from ill-deserved, and anyone could see just how tired Raph was. How tired they all were, for that matter.
Then he realized that considering their recent ordeal, this place would be a nightmare to wake up to.
How haunting would it be, he thought, if he let himself rest only to wake up to their home in such a state of unuse. He would see all the paths his family tread and all the items they used and treasured, stained with the mark of abandon; would see all they once called home as a ghost town until he finally laid eyes on one of his family to remind him they hadn't left him behind again. He wasn't alone anymore.
His family had survived the Kraang. They were together. They were alive.
Michelangelo ducked his head.
If he had delayed a minute longer, that wouldn't have been the case.
He almost… he almost killed them.
He had the means to their success in his hands, and he almost killed them!
Because he was afraid.
"Hold on a second," Donatello said, snapping him back to reality. "I still need to treat your wounds. You can't start cleaning; you'll get dust in them!"
Raphael opened his mouth to protest, only for Donnie to grab his arm and guide him to the couch. When Raph tried again to insist on helping, Donatello shot him down with what Mikey had come to know as his "Doctor Donnie" look, and Raph resigned himself to be fussed over.
"I'll get started," Mikey offered, heading off to retrieve the cleaning supplies.
It bugged him to have to leave his family's presence. Every step away felt like wading through waist-deep snow.
Still, it was clear they weren't going to get much rest until they'd rid the lair of its aura of neglect.
Besides, even if only for a few seconds, the guys deserved to have their youngest nuisance out of their hair.
A minute longer and they wouldn't have won. The guys and their friends would all be dead, and the people of New York would be doomed to live the rest of their lives in captivity to those who sought to take over their world.
They would all meet a terrible fate. And Mikey would be to blame.
No wonder the guys left him behind, he thought bitterly to himself. At first, he'd been sad to see them leave, maybe even betrayed. But now?
Now he didn't blame them.
He supposed if he were them, he would ditch him, too.
What a cheerful thing, to come back to the home he missed so much only to realize he wasn't wanted there.
Mikey picked out what he needed from the supply closet at the end of the hallway and returned to the living area.
It wasn't like he had anywhere else to go, though. He had to stay here.
Pathetic.
He supposed the least he could do was to start with what needed to be done and stay out of his family's way while doing it.
So he busied himself with cleaning the collected grime off the floor while Donnie carried out the actually helpful task of treating Raph's wounds.
Wounds that Mikey should have been able to prevent.
Leo and Splinter joined Mikey in his task, clearing the living area up to its former glory in a matter of minutes. Donatello soon joined them, having finished dressing Raph's injuries, and they started cleaning the path to the kitchen and dojo, as well as the said rooms.
Mikey watched the group and let out a heavy sigh.
He wanted to join them. He wanted so badly to be by their sides.
But he needed to give them their space.
He split off instead, taking his mop to the hallway by the rooms and starting to sweep the grime away there. He tried to ignore the weird look Raph gave him from his place on the couch.
Mikey hadn't even gotten a few paces cleaned down the hall when Raphael picked up a feather duster and swept the cobwebs in corners away. He tried not to look too relieved that someone was accompanying him. Did he always have to be so clingy?
Then he realized that it shouldn't be a surprise Raph had come to help him, considering what he'd almost done the last time Raphael trusted him to accomplish something on his own.
He bit down a humorless chuckle. He really was a thorn in their side while he stuck around them and useless without them.
When he'd finished with the hallway and the lair was restored save for the turtles' individual rooms, he put the mop away and retreated to his room.
Big mistake.
The second he stepped inside, the walls threatened to close in and crush him. Everyone was so far away. He couldn't see them, couldn't hear them, were they even there? Did they leave without him again?
"Hey, you okay?"
Michelangelo spun on his heel to see Raphael watching him.
He didn't even realize how irregular his breathing had grown until he found himself struggling to quell the pathetic sounds escaping his throat.
Great. Now Raph would just think he was even more useless.
The look Raphael gave him only confirmed it. Raph had abandoned his usual tough, uncaring demeanor in favor of unmasked sympathy.
Pity.
Raphael entered the room and sat on the bed, giving the space beside him a little pat.
Mikey hesitated, but lost his internal battle to the need to be in close proximity to someone after all the distance he'd forced himself to endure while cleaning.
"Is something bugging you?"
Raph's tone shot through the haze in Mikey's mind.
Raphael only ever used that tone― one marked with an almost uncharacteristic lack of sarcasm― when he was at his most genuine.
Very rarely did that tone ever come out, and when it did, Mikey knew he could count on every word that came out of his brother's mouth to be one hundred percent true. That tone was reserved only for words Raphael could back up with unlimited confidence; only things that he knew in his heart would not fail him.
Mikey remembered Raph using it with him when they were younger and he would come to his big brother after a nightmare seeking comfort. Raph had used it after his ex-friend Chris Bradford had stomped on Mikey's poor optimistic heart, and after tough battles when Mikey questioned if they all really would recover.
It was this constant reliability that cut through the walls that Mikey had so hastily built in the past two weeks and compelled him to answer Raph's question honestly.
Because he knew Raph would be honest with him.
Mikey fidgeted with his hands, trying to find the right words. "I- I'm scared."
Raph started, knitting a brow and leaning back to see his face better. "Scared? The danger's passed. We won."
"Yeah. This time."
"What…?"
Mikey brought his knees up to hug, avoiding Raph's gaze.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean… we won but… there will be more enemies to fight. And I know that's a normal thing for us now and we always come back from it, but… this time we almost didn't. Because of me."
"I... don't know where you're getting this from. Why do you think you-"
"Because I almost killed all of you!" Mikey snapped, letting his feet fall to the floor and spinning around to meet Raph's eyes. "I only had to go to the lab and put the bottle in, and I just sat there! Because I couldn't bring myself to leave. You told me to leave you alone, and I couldn't. I don't even know how long I was sitting there, waiting for the fog to come get me because I was too afraid to leave. Even though you told me to! I was so afraid of letting you guys go that I almost got all of you killed by sitting around where you were. Anyone else could have marched up and gotten it over with, but I couldn't! Cause I'm obviously too weak to work without someone holding my hand, and because of it, it's only a matter of time before that does become the reason that we don't come back from a mission!"
Raphael stared in stunned silence.
Nothing to say? Mikey didn't blame him.
Michelangelo resumed hugging his knees with a bitter laugh. "Yeah, I see why you wanted to get rid of me now."
Raph gasped. "Mikey!"
Mikey curled up deeper into himself. He wished he could disappear right there and then.
"Mikey, you know that's not true! We never— aw, shell, I'm not good with this stuff." Raphael pinched the ridge between his eyes, took a steadying breath, then continued on, his phrasing choppy as he struggled to choose the right words. "Mikey, we never wanted to leave you behind. I can't tell you how hard I searched for a way back into the city to find you, but there just wasn't one. To leave, even knowing I would try to come back for you, was one of the hardest things I've ever had to do."
Mikey brought himself to look back up at Raphael at these words, once again sensing the sincerity behind them despite the awkward flow of Raph's sentences. Like Raphael had said, he wasn't good with this stuff, and Mikey knew he was treading carefully through words that, if misphrased, could worsen wounds. Raphael wasn't used to being this gentle, but was making an honest effort for his little brother.
"And I know that spending all that time away from us took its toll on you. Now that you're back with us, it stirs some of that leftover fear in you for us to leave your side. And that's to be expected. What you went through was… something no one should ever have to go through. No one expects you to hit the ground running after that. Recovery takes time, and I'm sorry we had to try to speed yours up with the Kraang plot hanging over our heads. It was unfair to separate you from everyone at the height of the battle, but it had to be done if we had a chance. But now that we're safe at home? You can take as much time as you need to get back to where you were. No one hates you for trying to heal.
"And in the battle? I wouldn't have chosen to seal the door if I didn't think you could do it. I knew that it would hurt you to be separated from us again, but I believed in you more than I thought we could fight off the whole army of Kraang in time. I knew it would be a hard choice for you to make, but I never doubted you would come through in the end." Raph gave him a bittersweet smile. "And you did."
Mikey let out a huff of air, almost disbelieving. But Raphael was telling the truth. Mikey knew he was.
"So when we go on missions next…?"
"You'll have had some time to catch up, and neither Leo or I will make you do anything we don't know you can do."
"It wasn't pathetic of me to wait so long by the door?"
"No. I know it was a hard choice to leave, and…" Raph looked him in the eye. "Pay attention, 'cause I'm not saying this twice. But I'm really proud of you for coming through in the end."
Mikey felt the chaos in his mind melting away at once. He felt infinitely lighter, like he could finally breathe freely again. But something still weighed him down. One more question, just to be sure.
"You never meant to leave me behind?"
"No. None of us ever wanted to abandon you. Ever."
Mikey nodded. The affirmation helped to clear away some of the remaining weight on his shoulders, but something still lingered. Like he'd expected a response a little different than what Raphael offered him. Something… more.
Still, he couldn't complain about one small grievance when Raphael had melted all the rest of his anxieties away, so when Raph asked, "Are you feeling better?", Mikey answered in the affirmative.
"Good," Raphael said, standing. "Then why don't we see what Donnie and Leo are up to?"
Mikey nodded, standing as well. "Oh, wait! I think I left my T-phone in here somewhere." He located it on his desk and snatched it up. "Okay. Now we can go."
Raphael gave him a nod and started down the hall towards the living area.
Michelangelo followed, powering his T-phone on.
The home screen instantly greeted him with an "unread message" count nearing the triple digits, the most recent of which were from Raphael. Walking absentmindedly down the hall, he clicked on his and Raphael's chat.
Get your butt over here. We're at the city limits.
Hurry up!
I swear if you don't get here now, I will shove your head in the sewer water! :(
Please.
We're at the farmhouse. If you're reading this, get your butt over here.
Are you alright?
You better be.
Pick up.
Please.
You're scaring me.
This isn't funny!
Fine. Just take care of yourself, okay?
Goodnight. Sleep well, little brother.
Leo's doing alright. I'm not taking my eyes off him. He'll be okay.
Stop dilly-dallying and get over here.
Donnie's working himself down to the bone. He's worried sick.
We all are.
So why don't you show up and tell him to get some food and rest?
I'm sorry.
I shouldn't have left you behind, no matter what the odds.
I know. No turtle left behind. I broke our rule.
I love you, little brother.
Please be okay.
See you very soon, little brother.
Michelangelo stopped walking and looked at Raphael, who was evidently oblivious to what Mikey had just stumbled upon.
Here it was. Even going beyond Raphael's trustworthy word.
It was proof that they'd always wanted him to stay with them. They really had been worried. They really had wanted him to come back. They really had wanted him to be alright. They really hadn't wanted to abandon him.
Mikey reread one of the texts closer to the bottom and felt the last of the uncertainty lurking in the corners of his mind fade away.
I love you, little brother.
Despite all his shortcomings, all his failures, they really hadn't stopped loving him.
"Mikey! Crognard's starting," Leo called.
"Are you coming or what?" Donnie asked.
Mikey smiled, bright and genuine. "I'm coming!"
With that, he settled down on the couch, his family around him, and relaxed.
He let himself be with his family, and for the first time in weeks, he didn't feel guilty about it.
The Mutanimals pulled up to the lair after retrieving the Stealth Bike from where Slash said he'd left it.
The bike was in poor shape, but Rockwell remarked that it was nothing Donatello couldn't fix.
The Mutanimals entered through the turnstiles to find the credits of Crognard the Barbarian rolling across the screen and the turtles lounged across the living area couches.
Upon acknowledging their entry, the guys either turned in their seats or stood to face the Mutanimals.
"I'll go get the salve," Donatello said, retreating to his lab.
Leo offered Slash his hand, which Slash took in his recovering hand with a strong shake.
"Good work out there," Slash said.
"We couldn't have done it without you," Leo said. "You really helped us through it."
"I'm just glad I could help you at all, considering…" Slash gestured vaguely to his wounds.
Leonardo nodded. "I'm sure staying behind was a hard decision. Raph's never been content to sit and watch the action when he gets hurt— trust me, he's come back with more than a few scars from being so reckless—and I take it you're the same way."
"I'm right here, fearless."
Leo tried not to look to smug. "Anyway, point being, I'm glad you didn't charge headfirst deeper into the problem. Staying put and helping from afar, despite how hard it must have been for you? That was really mature."
Slash gave an awkward shrug. "Eh, you were right. A good leader has to trust his team." He nodded to his crew. "And the team was right."
"We did it," Leo said.
Slash nodded. "We did it."
Donatello came back with a neat stack of containers. He handed several of them to Slash, and the remaining one to Leo. "Here you go. It should heal your shells back to full strength again." He turned to address Slash in particular. "Your wound was pretty ugly to begin with, so I can't promise there won't be any scarring, but it will put you back fighting alongside your team in no time."
Slash nodded his thanks.
Donatello shifted his gaze to Jason. "And, uh, thanks. For choosing us." He shifted his weight. "I've- I've been thinking, and I can make another batch of retromutagen for you. You were right. You didn't deserve what happened to you, and we were the cause of that. I owe it to you to make it right."
Jason felt the weight of his friends' eyes on him.
No.
Not his friends.
"Thank you," he said. "But if they were going to reject me the second I was something they didn't agree with, then they never really were my family in the first place." He let out a humorless chuckle, realizing he'd just said "no" to everything he'd dreamed could be true for his future since he'd been mutated. The memories of his "family", the dreams of what they could be in the future, images in his mind that he'd once imagined in light and gold, now faded to a dull grey. Old, abandoned photos in his mind left to crumble away with the passage of time— and strangely, he found himself wishing they would do just that. Crumble and fall.
But that didn't mean all his memories spent with anyone were now stained grey. He subconsciously reached for Leatherhead's hand, and the gator gave it a comforting squeeze.
Leatherhead, who walked him through his journey, always one hundred percent supportive and judgement-free. Leatherhead, who had only offered him sympathy despite his questionable choices, and had been there to be a shoulder to cry on through it all.
Slash and Rockwell may not have been the most help through this particular trial, but Jason could think of trials that they had helped him through. He remembered odd hours of the morning when he couldn't sleep and he and Rockwell would talk about their human pasts and relate to one another until he was tired or comforted enough to rest. He remembered Slash always keeping an eye out for him during battles and always being the first one by his side should he get hurt.
It was those three who stood by his side, despite his faults, despite his failings, despite his everything.
It was them who saw past his flaws.
They gave him a second chance.
Just as Mikey had done.
Jason turned to face the youngest turtle. "Mikey?"
Michelangelo jumped at his name.
The expression he gave Jason tugged at his heart. Was Mikey… afraid of him?
"I'm sorry," Jason said. "I blamed everything on you when I couldn't even see how much my parents had done to me. I guess… I guess I wanted it to be your fault instead of theirs. But it wasn't. I was wrong to lash out at you."
"No, you weren't," Mikey argued. "We spilled the mutagen on you, and I should have taken responsibility for it from the beginning. It cost you your family."
"No." Jason turned to face Leatherhead, Slash, and Rockwell. "It helped me find them." He addressed Mikey again. "Thank you."
Mikey started. His wide eyes flicked from side to side as he thought, then a smile dawned on his face. "I'm glad you found your home, Jason."
The gecko chuckled awkwardly, rubbing his neck, before extending his hand. "My friends call me Mondo."
Michelangelo's eyes sparkled, and he skipped Jason's hand entirely to scoop his friend off the ground in a big hug.
Rockwell let out a tired sigh. "Well, as much as we would love to stay and chat, I'm sure there are things to do back at our HQ before we can settle down. We had best be leaving before it gets too late, and I'm sure all of you are itching to get some rest, as well."
As if to prove his point, Leo punctuated the end of his sentence with a yawn. "You could say that twice."
"Farewell, turtles," Rockwell said. He paused. "And Donatello?"
"Hmm?"
Another hesitation. "You're a decent assistant."
"I try my best."
With that, the Mutanimals started for the exit. Leatherhead was the last to leave, and gave his goodbye of, "We will see you all again soon. If you need us, we will be there."
Without a vehicle, they tread tiredly through the subway tunnels— or hovered, in Rockwell's case.
Mondo had to triple his pace just to match Slash's and Leatherhead's leisurely strides.
Leatherhead soon took notice and scooped his tiny companion up in order to sit him on his shoulders.
Mondo relaxed against Leatherhead's head and allowed the rhythm of the gator's heavy footsteps to lull him into the trance of his thoughts.
Family. He hadn't meant to think of the mutants surrounding him in that way, the words had just escaped his mouth. Not that he would correct himself. Using the term for them felt… suitable. Right.
Still, a stinging echoed in the back of his heart.
He never thought he'd use the term for anyone but his parents. To use it for anyone but them felt… off. Like he was replacing them. Betraying them.
He knew it was really them who betrayed him. It was them who never truly accepted him as their own. If they had, they would have been able to look past his appearance and welcomed him back home in spite of it.
But years of bonding, however poorly founded, didn't just go away. Years of memories in the past and hopes in the future lingered and cried out to him asking why he had abandoned them.
He knew those memories had passed. He knew those hopes were gone.
But he still couldn't help but the tears that dripped from his eyes.
Leatherhead must have felt the moisture on his scales, because he asked, "Are you all right, brother?"
"I just—" an embarrassing crack cut his sentence off, and he sniffled and wiped his nose on his sleeve. "I just never thought they were really gone."
The air turned at once.
"I only wanted to remember the good times we had together, and I completely ignored all the other warning signs. They… they weren't good people. They never listened to me. They never took me seriously. They threw me out. Look at me, it's pathetic, isn't it? It was stupid, but I always thought, if I tried hard enough, they could still be there for me. After all this time, shouldn't I be past it? It was so long ago…"
Rockwell heaved a heavy sigh. "Healing takes time, and what happened to you was no easy thing. It's not abnormal for you to feel this way about your parents, nor is it abnormal for someone to undergo the grieving process more than once."
Mondo nodded, finding some comfort that his friends— family— didn't think him weird or strange for it.
"It's a tough process," Rockwell admitted. "But it's one that, if dealt with properly, has the potential to permanently dull the pain of the event. And we'll be there with you through every step to make sure that this is not ignored. We will be here beside you for anything you need. And when you're grieving, no need is too small or too silly." He looked Mondo meaningfully in the eye. "The subconscious often shows its innermost needs through wants that may seem frivolous or entirely unrelated, but we will not ignore your needs. You will not be alone. You will not be unheard. You will not be dismissed." He held his gaze for another few moments to make sure his message hit home. "That being said," Rockwell continued, "Is there anything you need right now?"
Mondo thought on his words, and the more he thought about it, the more he realized, despite his aching heart, how much better it felt to be with his new family. How much safer.
He knew that there would be tough days to come. He had just torn up an old scar and he couldn't expect it not to bleed.
His new family might not be able to make the wound magically go away, but they would clean it and bandage it and kiss it until it had been undisturbed for long enough to heal up and scar again.
So he listened to their slow, rhythmic footsteps, and felt the light bump as Leatherhead took each step, and he pillowed his head against Leatherhead's, allowing the sounds to soothe him.
"No. I have everything I need."
The turtles had only finished their second episode of Crognard when Leonardo noticed that Donatello was missing.
Clinking coming from the lab alerted him to his genius brother's location, and he left the couch to retrieve him. Donatello needed a break as much as everyone else, after all. Leave it to the workaholic to immediately disregard his own health in favor of the experimenting he'd missed in their time away from the lair.
When Leo stepped into the lab, though, he was greeted with a sight he didn't expect. One he didn't understand, but was unwelcome all the same.
Donatello paid no mind to Leo's entry if he'd even noticed it, instead packing away all his equipment into boxes.
"What's all this?"
Donatello jumped and whirled around, a yet-to-be-boxed microscope in his hand. When he saw Leo, he immediately averted his gaze, pulling his shoulders up around himself and ducking his head before continuing his task.
"Donnie," Leo repeated, more sternly," What is all of this?"
Donatello gently placed the microscope into the box and paused, his back to Leo. "I'm done."
Leo blinked. "What?"
Donnie turned. "I said I'm done."
Leonardo shook his head. "Done with what?"
Donnie gestured around the lab. "With all of this! I'm done experimenting, I'm done building things, I'm done with science."
Leonardo could hardly believe his ears. If he heard correctly, the next thing he knew, Mikey could come bursting in saying he'd decided to give up pizza.
A million questions flooded into his mind, but the only one he could bring himself to separate from the rest was, "Why?"
Donatello looked at him as though he'd just asked him what two plus two was. "I thought you of all people would be able to figure that out. I thought you'd be the most on board, for that matter."
"Well, I didn't, and I'm not!"
Donatello let out an exasperated sigh and resumed packing.
"Care to explain to me what this is really about?"
"Leo. Look at what happened to you."
"At what happened to me? Of all people, I should be the least of your concer-"
"I DID THIS TO YOU!"
The statement hung in the air, ringing off the walls, the sound fading but never seeming to die.
Leo held out his hands in a "wait a minute" gesture. "Hold up, you mean-"
"Your retromutation, yes!" Donnie huffed and slammed more equipment carelessly into boxes.
Leo heard something shatter.
"Fact one: we are mutants. Fact two: retromutagen would reduce us to normal turtles. Fact three: I somehow completely ignored facts one and two and made a substance that could doom us to revert to our previous, unfeeling states for the rest of our natural lives."
"You made the retromutagen to save April's dad," Leo objected. "Wasn't it worth the risk?"
Donnie sighed. "I don't regret getting Mr. O'Neil back. But…"
"...But?"
"I'm a danger! How could I be so careless? I should have known pursuing such a volatile path would put you all in harm's way!"
"You took a risk," Leo said. "You had good intentions. Besides, like I said before, my choice to take the retromutagen was mine and mine alone. You are not to blame."
"But I made it!"
"It was the Kraang who started the entire battle leading up to my unmutation."
"But without me, the retromutagen wouldn't even have been a problem."
Leo pulled his sword form its sheath. "You see this sword?"
Donnie raised a brow. "Uh… yeah?"
"Splinter made it for me."
Donatello waved his hands palm-up. "He makes all our weapons for us."
"If I were to kill someone with this sword, would it be Splinter's fault?"
Donatello considered. "I get what you're saying. But it wasn't just the retromutagen. I also made Metalhead, and he malfunctioned. I made the Turtle Mech, and it almost got you killed. I almost blew all of you and Spike up with a chemical reaction." He shook his head. "Look at what I did to you."
"Look at what you did for us," Leo countered. "For everyone!"
Donnie sighed and turned away.
"Listen, even if you think the retromutagen thing was your fault— it wasn't, by the way, but let's say for the sake of argument that it was― look at all you've accomplished. Sure, there have been times where things you made didn't go exactly as planned. But look at all the good you've done.
"You fixed Rockwell's formula and made it possible for us to re-enter the city and save everyone. You created the salve that will heal Slash and I and put Slash back in fighting condition so he doesn't have to be sidelined for the rest of his life. You designed, produced, and executed the weapons that were crucial to our getting into the Kraang base. You navigated us through the base and got us through the doors and then freed the humans and wiped the mutant-seeking weapon plans from all the Kraangs' databases. And that was all in the past two weeks.
"And, yeah. There might have been times that your inventions didn't go exactly as planned. There are times that my battle strategies fail, but does that make me a bad leader?"
"No," Donnie admitted.
"Sometimes, our plans go awry. Everyone everywhere has to expect that sometime. It just so happens that you and I, when things don't go exactly as we plan, yes it can be threatening. But that's only because our lives are constantly so high-stakes, and our plans must match. So yeah, there will be times that an invention or project of yours gets out of hand.
"I would have brought it up to you if I thought you shouldn't continue on inventing. But I haven't had to. Because the Donnie I know always takes responsibility, and always makes up for his mistakes. And because of that, the risk that comes with your inventions? It was well worth it to begin with, but knowing how much you care about… everyone?"
Donnie met his gaze.
"There may have been times I was wary of one of your projects, but there has never. Ever. Been a day that I didn't trust you. I can't even count the number of times you've saved us with your brilliant mind and tech stuff. We wouldn't be standing here if it weren't for you. So… maybe… don't quit?"
Donnie considered.
"Come ooooon," Leo said teasingly, giving his genius brother's shoulder a playful slug. "I know there's a brilliant idea stewing in that big brain of yours somewhere."
Donnie sighed. "Well, maybe… I did have a sketch I was working on before everything happened." He looked at a particular box, where the crumpled remains of blueprints peeked over its top.
Leonardo walked to the said box, picked out the papers, and smoothed them out before looking at the diagrams listed on them. "Looks interesting!" He placed them on the desk in front of Donnie. "Tell me all about it."
Donnie looked at the blueprints, then back up at Leo.
Leonardo gave an encouraging nod.
Donatello hesitated, sat at his desk chair, and began to point out pieces of the diagram. He started slowly at first, but soon dissolved into the rambling scientific chatter that was music to Leo's ears.
Music that said Donnie was going to be okay.
Once the last episode of Crognard airing for today had ended, Raphael turned the TV off and listened.
He and Mikey had heard yelling a few minutes prior, but the yelling turned into softer speech before they could decide whether or not to investigate, so they left Leo and Donnie be; it was likely the two of them could work out whatever was wrong.
As of now, he heard the excited, steady stream of speech that meant Donnie had launched into one of his rants.
Raph smiled. It had been a while since he'd heard Donnie go on about something he was excited about. He supposed the strain of the past two weeks had taken its toll on his genius brother, but was glad that he seemed to be getting better now.
He was about to check on his blue- and purple-banded brothers when they strolled into the living area, Donatello finishing his thought, a distant gleam in his eye as his mouth fought to keep up with his million-miles-an-hour brain spewing technical terms.
"I'm excited to see how you pull it off," Leo said when Donatello finished his rant. "That sounds like it will be very useful."
Donnie beamed at him, then drew his mouth into a thin line and checked his phone. "What time is it? I'm hungry."
"You read my mind, bro," Mikey said from where he sat upside-down on the couch.
"It is well into the evening," Splinter said, entering the living area. "And we have not had a chance to stop to eat. I believe it is time for a meal."
Mikey pointed at him in agreement. "Now you're speaking my language."
"What do we have?" Raph asked.
Leo crinkled his nose in disgust. "Well, unless you want to try to make something edible with the two-week-old milk we have in the fridge, I say we get takeout."
"That sounds like a challenge," Mikey proclaimed.
His brothers immediately shot him down with cries of "Mikey, no!" and "It's not!"
"Well, we just saved the world again," Donnie pointed out. "And it's not a celebration until someone breaks out the pizza."
"Pizza party!" Mikey exclaimed, throwing his hands into the air.
"Pizza party," Raph agreed, glad to have an excuse to distract Mikey from the idea of concocting something only Mikey could claim edible with the spoiled milk.
Leo asked them all what they wanted, and placed a generous order.
They deserved it.
Donnie hummed. "It'll probably take two of us to carry all the boxes back to the lair without risking dropping any of them."
"Mikey and I will go," Raph said, already standing.
Donnie caught Raphael's arm as he made to leave.
"Are you sure?" Donatello whispered. "Neither you or Mikey are exactly… one-hundred percent."
"One step at a time," Raph whispered. "We beat the Kraang together, and this is nothing compared to that. We have to start getting him used to being alone again."
"So soon?"
"I'll be careful. Just a little bit at a time. But after what happened today, if we don't start soon, he'll get too used to us being around all the time, and then we won't be able to get him back to normal."
Donatello thought a moment longer, then nodded.
"Come on, Mikey," Raph said.
He heard a moment's pause before Mikey's footsteps approached him, then the two set off down the path to the delivery address.
He occupied Mikey's mind with discussion of the day's TV episodes on the way there whenever he saw his little brother beginning to get anxious. It did the trick, taking his mind off Leo and Donnie for the time being.
A few discussions about the show's characters and some good-natured teasing later, the delivery spot was just around the corner.
Raphael took another step forward and winced. He sucked a breath in through clenched teeth, and seeing Michelangelo turn to him at he sound, forced another step forward. His knee buckled and he started to fall but caught himself.
Mikey rushed over to him. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine." He slid down the wall and sat on the concrete. "It's just my leg. It got pretty badly bruised up when I was fighting the Kraang. I guess it's only starting to get sore now."
"We should go back," Mikey said. "Come on. You can lean on me if you need to. I'll take you back for Donnie to look at it."
"No, no. I'll be fine, it's just a little sore, is all. Why don't you go get the pizza and come back?"
Mikey glanced ahead at the corner and back at Raph, unconvinced.
"You know Antonio's. Fifteen minutes or it's free. Come on, they have in two minutes to show up at most. You'll be there and back before you know it."
Mikey sighed. "Okay. Yell if you need anything. I'll be right around the corner."
Raph nodded, and Mikey left.
Good. So their separation in the Kraang facility hadn't made it too much harder for Mikey.
Raph stood and paced about, idly checking his phone for the time as he did so.
As he had said, Mikey reappeared around the corner within two minutes, carrying a stack of pizza boxes that rose above his head.
Raph knew he could do it.
"Here." Raph took half the boxes and the two started home.
Two minutes wasn't much, but it was a start. More importantly, it showed that, even briefly, Michelangelo could still fight back his fear enough to leave his family for at least a short amount of time. It was a start.
They were almost back when Mikey looked at him. "Wait, wasn't your leg hurt?"
"Uhh…" Raph grappled for an excuse. "I guess… it was one of those things that just… comes and goes fast?"
"Oh, okay."
They entered the lair and went to the kitchen, where Leo, Donnie, and Splinter had already set out plates and cups.
Raph and Mikey set the pizza boxes in the center of the table and claimed empty seats.
Soon, the laughter and chatter of the five of them filled the air, each content to relax in the company of his family. Just as it should be.
And perhaps each person sitting there had new scars that weren't there the last time the five of them were able to sit down together.
Perhaps Splinter and Raphael still had some disagreements that would rear their faces in the future.
Perhaps Leonardo would fall silent when he heard of another trial that his brothers had gone through in the time when he'd been unable to help them.
Perhaps Donatello would lose his faith in himself and stumble in his work.
Perhaps Michelangelo would panic when no one was around to remind him he wasn't alone.
But if it was one thing Raphael knew for sure, it was that their scars would heal, as long as they had each other.
Because if he and Splinter fought, they would work it out and become closer than ever because of their new understanding of each other.
Because even if Leo hadn't been able to help them when he was a little turtle, he could now help them get past what had happened, and through anything to come.
Because if Donatello lost faith in himself, his brothers would conveniently recall a time when he'd saved them.
Because if Michelangelo panicked when no one was around, they would eventually find him and remind him that they'd never truly left.
Because if any trial or challenge awaited them, together, they would face it and come back stronger because of it.
And there would be trials to come. The Kraang were not yet done, and neither were many of their other enemies.
But Raphael looked around at his smiling, laughing family, and reminded himself of where they were only hours before, and he knew that no matter what stood in their path, they would still come together afterward and laugh and joke and be there for each other.
And that was all that mattered.
A big thank-you to everyone who made it to the end! This has certainly been quite the journey, and I'm glad all of you guys decided to come along on it!
So, the graphic description of injury thing was kind of a new thing for me. I don't know if the bolded words were useful to anyone, or if everyone that would have been unsettled by the injuries just avoided this work because of the tags. Were they helpful for anyone? Did they get in the way of your reading? Let me know; I'm curious.
As far as future fanfictions go, I have plenty more ideas in store. However, publishing my own original novel has been a dream of mine for four years now, and I keep putting off working on it. I'm gonna take a break from writing large pieces like this until it's done, but you can expect some one-shots from me between now and my next giant fanfic- and yes, I have something planned. And it's going to be one heck of a bumpy ride.
But until then, take care of yourselves, and of course,
Have a great day, y'all!