"It's not breaking!" Leo and April pounded on the blast door.

"I got this!"

Raph smashed his tonfas together and glowing red fists appeared around his own. April's parents pulled them away from the door as he charged forward. He yelled as his hit smashed it off its hinges and sent it careening down the hallway.

"Where did he go?" Raph bellowed as he ran through the wreckage. "We can cut him off and-"

"Uh, Raph?" There was a weird note in Leo's voice as he tapped his shoulder. His brother was looking off the catwalk, down at the room. "Hold on a sec… I think we may have some other fish to fry."

He spun, preparing to face whatever his brother was looking at, but all he saw were the rescued Yokai. They moved slowly, creeping towards the tank. It made Raph pause. Many of them didn't look too good, and several were supporting each other.

"Bishop's probably already gone through a secret escape hatch or something," Robyn whispered. "We need to help these poor people."

"And for all we know he's got the place set to self-destruct once he's clear," Augie muttered.

Everybody tensed when the alarm suddenly stopped. Nothing happened for a breathless moment. "Or I could be wrong," he shrugged.

Raph wavered. He wanted to smash, and keep smashing, until he found Bishop and smashed him, too. He wanted to make him pay for hurting Donnie, for shooting Mikey, for terrorizing them all. He could do it, too. Bishop was on the run. They had him. They had him.

But they had him a moment ago, too. And Donnie didn't shoot.

Because hadn't there been enough violence?

His mystic fists extinguished.

If the violence didn't stop here, then when would it? The Yokai, who even more than him deserved to smash Bishop, just continued limping to the tank. Too much pain and hurt had already been traded across parties. Who… what would he be to continue it?

Enough was enough.

This was a rescue mission, after all.

"Okay," he exhaled at last, and stowed his tonfas. "You're right, we need to get everyone out of here, first. Leo, I didn't get a chance to free Stinkbomb and Mrs. Nubbins. Think you can handle them?"

His brother retrieved his odachi from the haphazard pile and propped it confidently on his shoulder. "No problemo, big guy, Leon's got it." He disappeared in a flash of blue.

Raph was blinking away the afterimage when he heard Mikey's concerned voice. "Donnie?"

He turned in time to see his purple brother sway and grip the edge of the railing. "Uh-oh."

Fearing his brother was going to pass out, potentially over the railing, he rushed over and scooped him up. What was meant to be a squawk of protest came out more as a groan as Raph jumped down to the floor below. Donnie batted him away as Raph placed him upright, one hand on his stomach. He was even paler and his shakiness was a downright tremor.

"Donnie, you okay?"

"Mm." He took a deep breath through his nose then let it out through his mouth. "No. I'm overexerted and your plunge didn't help." He put another hand on his stomach and continued to take deep, careful breaths.

There was a metallic skittering sound as Mikey swooped down next to them. He plowed through his brother's nausea and squeezed him in a five-armed hug. "It's so good to see you, Donnie!" he cheered. "I saw that portal! It was super cool!"

"Yeah?" Donnie grunted as he was finally released. He paused, then reached an unsteady hand out to touch one of the spider arms. "You're using the Brother Setting."

"Yeah! And its razzmatazz is amazing!"

"Is it?" His eyes slid down to the sling. "I'm so glad…"

He finally turned and threw up against the wall.

Raph started forward, but Mikey and his many arms were already rubbing his shell. "My bad, Dee, we should get you home. Need anything in particular? Sleep? Pizza?"

Donnie grimaced. "Electrolytes."

"I'm sure I can whip some up."

Raph stepped back to give them some space as they started walking towards the Turtle Tank. He wanted to follow, but also knew his brother didn't like to be crowded. Splinter was already hurrying over to them, as well, so he would only be hovering.

Raph found himself standing alone, anxiously tapping his fingers. He closed his eyes.

The hushed murmur of the Yokai filtered around him, creating a muted hubbub that silence dared not break. Some gears whirred as the platform elevator lowered April and her parents down to their level. There was a cry of "Pops!" from Sunita and the pattering of feet as she ran towards her father. He breathed deeply.

A familiar whoosh sounded next to him. "Well, that's Stinkbomb finally to the woods and Mrs. Nubbins home to papa." There was a pause, and he felt Leo's hand lay on his arm. "Hey, you good?"

Raph opened his eyes.

The round room was no longer white, but marred with scorch marks and ripped out chunks of wall. The doors all stood propped open if not outright destroyed. It was full of moving bodies, hushed voices, and a deep, somber feeling that Raph felt weigh heavily on his heart.

It was… tragic. But, the room no longer seemed quite so scary, either. The unfamiliar had a name and a face, now, and it was running away.

"Yeah," he said. "I'm good."

Splinter didn't consider himself an expert on handling trauma, unless some twisted universe decided that experience counted. He knew hugs and pats on the back could only do so much, yet at the same time were so desperately needed. Yokai after Yokai came up to him, thanking him, asking about how they had found them, asking about the outside world. It was all greatly disturbing, but Splinter was nothing if not an actor. He put on his best reassuring smile and told them it would be alright.

As soon as he could, he slipped away to find the O'Neil's. They needed an organized plan.

It was after talking with them that he found himself plodding up to a Yokai that had barely moved since the entire showdown. Draxum sat on the floor, hugging his knees, and stared at the ground in deep contemplation.

Splinter hung back for a moment, because he really, really didn't want to have this conversation. Eventually, he let out a deep sigh.

"April's dog-thingy and Blue are going to transport everyone to the Hidden City. I know you cannot back go there, but, if you have any recommendations for… therapists, counselors, I don't know… it would be much appreciated. Some of them have been here for years..." He trailed off and looked away.

It was an awkward moment before Draxum spoke. "I know a few names who should still be in practice," he said slowly. "They should be able to help."

"Good. I'll have the pizza manager make a few calls." Splinter looked back at the crowd. The Spanish skeleton seemed the most stable out of the prisoners, and was already helping coordinate the recovery effort. Splinter was grateful, because as devastating as the whole situation was, he still wanted nothing more than to get his boys home. He'd already ordered Purple and Orange to stay in the tank and eat some juice and crackers. He saw no reason for any of them to linger in this horrible place a moment longer than necessary.

He really should have found this place and destroyed it all those years ago. Really should have… done more.

"I…" Draxum halted. Raised his head. "Years," he whispered. "I worked so hard to counteract the human threat. To protect Yokai-kind." His brow creased. "I never imagined that my actions would bring about the very threat I was fighting against."

Splinter stepped closer to him. "You are not… entirely responsible," he stuttered uncomfortably. "We all make our own choices. Bishop is a monster."

"Yes." The baron's eyes focused on a distant point. "And like many other monsters, I created him."

Splinter looked away. His initial reaction was to agree, and yet… he found that he couldn't quite do that. Bishop was one thing, but… he did not consider his boys to be monsters. Perhaps Draxum wasn't referring to them. He looked down at his long, bony fingers. Surely, he wasn't a monster, either, was he?

He sighed again and let his hands fall by his side. No, he wasn't a monster. But… he needed to make sure he didn't become one, either. The path of hatred led a man to pointing a gun in a room full of wounded souls. And as disturbing as it was, a part of him understood that, too. He understood the pain, the desperation, and the hate.

Understood it enough to see it as the poison it was.

"To be clear," he said, turning to Draxum. "I still don't like you. I still don't want to hang out with you. But I won't let you turn me into that," he pointed at the spot on the catwalk where Bishop had last stood, "so I have decided that I won't hate you."

He left before Draxum could respond. He didn't care what the baron thought, because it wasn't about him. Splinter had wounds to heal and boys to raise, and perhaps he was doing something right if those boys saw goodness where he couldn't. Perhaps he shouldn't stop them from watering that seed.