When Raphael opened his eyes, he was in David's room, and it was not the way he had expected it to look. Gone were the poles and wires and machines, the mysterious medical stuff Leo had ordered them to take every piece of, who knows what he needs. He didn't think astral travel was supposed to work that way, but he didn't get a chance to ask Leo about it.
"About time you got here."
David was lounging on the bed, watching them. No, not David - Donatello, looking almost exactly like David did in real life, while David was standing between Raph and Leo, still looking mostly like a human.
While the three astral travelers were still trying to orient themselves from their abrupt arrival, Donatello rolled off the bed to poke David in the chest. "That thing you just did to me?" he said. "Don't ever do it again."
"Don't make me," David replied, without the least bit of sympathy. Then his brow creased. "You remember?"
"Of course I remember," Donatello said. "You think I'm just some disjointed figment floating around the metaworld waiting for you to rescue me? I have a life too, David. You're kind of messing it up right now."
"Wow," David said. "I am really regretting letting you have access to my vocabulary. How do I turn this off?"
"Like I would tell you," Donatello said, and turned away to sit on the bed again.
"I'll make you tell me," David said, and he walked forward, a veil of power flickering around him.
"Oh, I'm so scared," Donatello said. "Sit down, you jerk."
"What the hell is going on?" Raph whispered to Leo. "Tell me this ain't happening."
"It's happening," Leo whispered back. "They're in balance. They're almost the same, right now. I think we're making progress."
"You call this progress?" Raph flung an arm towards their twinned brother, forgetting to whisper.
"Would you two shut up?" Donatello said. "I'm about to give my other half some crucially important information that will greatly advance his spiritual development." He turned to the quasi-human sitting next to him. "David, you're an idiot. Truly a nitwit. I'd say you're dumb as a rock, but -" He pointed to David's head. "That's not gneiss."
"Did you seriously just resort to geology puns?" David asked. "That's so pathetic I can't even."
"Not my fault," Donatello said. "Your patheticness is infecting me. Like, literally."
"Gross," David said. "Tell me that's not the crucially important information."
"Ugh, no," said Donatello. "It's this: in addition to being a grade-A dumbass, you're also a turtle."
"That's what everyone keeps telling me," David said. "And by 'everyone', I mean some teenagers who live in a sewer, whereas a number of very-highly-educated people hold the opinion that I'm a human with an extremely bizarre syndrome."
"Your doctors are morons," Donatello said bluntly.
"They all have terminal degrees in their fields."
"They're highly-educated morons," Donatello acknowledged. "But morons nonetheless." He gestured around the room. "Notice anything missing?"
"I observe a distinct lack of assisted breathing machines and supportive care equipment," David said. "I do note a UV lamp and a diabetes kit."
"You might have a high enough IQ to sustain life after all," Donatello said. "Now, what do you notice about me?"
David looked him up and down. "You have many fewer needle scars than I do," he said, "which is consistent with the presence of many fewer needles."
"And?" Donatello prompted.
"You… look okay," David said. "You don't look like what my team said would happen if I went off my meds." He frowned. "You look better than I do."
Raph had to agree with that, at least to a limited extent. Donatello was no trained athlete, that was plain to see, but he at least had some healthy weight on him. He didn't look exhausted, the way David always did. And, while he apparently still felt the need to wear clothes, he seemed far more at ease in his body than the brother Raph had barely been allowed to touch since meeting him weeks ago.
"Truly a master of observation," Donatello said, and he leaned forward to fix David with an intense gaze. "Now, listen: you're a turtle. You're poikilothermic. You need external heat to maintain safe core temperature.
"You're a herptile. You don't digest lactose efficiently.
"You never go outside. Window glass blocks UV radiation and disrupts vitamin D synthesis. Like, duh.
"That?" He pointed to Raphael. "Plastron. On the dorsal surface, carapace. Commonly known as a turtle shell. Not a rare disorder of excessive ossification. If you amputate it you will seriously die."
He held up a hand. "Tridactyly. Makes no sense. Kind of sucks. Grow up and deal."
Raph had no idea what had just been said, but David didn't miss a beat. "Nocturnal shortness of breath?" he asked.
"Psychosomatic."
"Pseudotail?"
"Actual tail."
"Weak immune system?"
"You eat processed crap and you don't get any exercise."
"Glucose numbers?"
"Diabetes does occur in reptiles."
David took a moment to absorb all of this. "So what Ron said to me a few days ago…"
"Was correct," Donatello said. "He finally figured it out."
David blinked at him. "Then you are saying that I am in fact a mutated Trachemys scripta elegans with severe congenital diabetes, and my team has been misdiagnosing and mistreating me for fifteen years."
"Oh my god, it can learn," Donatello said.
"You know what?" Raph broke in. "I liked the last Donatello better. I understood him."
"Was anyone talking to you?" Donatello said. He turned back to David, and his expression softened a little. "D, Ron and the others mean well. They care about you. They just don't get it. They couldn't accept what you are, and it really screwed up your ability to accept what you are. Don't let them do that to you anymore."
David thought about this for a long minute, looking at his hand where it lay next to Donatello's on the blanket. "I'm… I'm really not sick? I've spent my whole life going through medical procedures I don't need?"
"Strictly speaking, you are sick," Donatello said. "But not nearly as sick as you think you are."
"What about this procedure Ron just suggested?" David asked. "Would it work?"
"The premises are true and the theory is sound," Donatello said. "But I can't tell you whether it would work. The risks are no joke."
When David fell into a thoughtful silence and didn't respond, Donatello poked him in the arm. "I'm going to give you some bonus spiritual advice, because I'm such a nice guy. You're attached to this concept of yourself as a hopelessly sick person. What does it matter if you're green and ugly; you'll never be able to do anything anyway because you're too disabled. Get over yourself. Maybe just try not chaining yourself to an IV pole half the time, and see if that doesn't open up some opportunities in your life."
David looked around the room, seemingly trying to imagine what his life would have been like if his room had always looked like this. "Where's Snowflake?" he asked.
Donatello snorted. "In the real world. Cats don't meditate."
David was giving Donatello an appraising look, even as he absorbed the answer to his last question. "Take off your shirt."
Donatello held the front of his button-down together. "Get lost, you pervert."
David pushed him. Donatello pushed back. In a minute they were wrestling and yelling erudite insults at each other.
Raph looked at Leo. "Should we break them up?"
"I don't think so," Leo replied. "I want to see how this ends."
It ended with David sitting on Donatello, chanting "Take it off take it off take it off."
"God, fine." Donatello shoved David's noseless face away from him. "Let me up."
David let Donatello sit up, and Donatello unbuttoned his shirt, letting it slide from his shoulders as David pulled his off over his head.
They looked at each other.
"Turn around," David said.
Grudgingly, Donatello turned to face the wall.
"Is that what my… my shell looks like?" David asked quietly.
"Pretty much," Raph said.
David reached out to touch the thick plating. "That's… kind of nice, actually." He rested his palm across the intricate pattern of ridges. "Donatello…" he said. "Your life here… is it…?"
"Is it what?" Donatello didn't move, didn't even turn his head. "It doesn't matter. I'm a ghost."
David moved his hand to Donatello's shoulder. "Can I take this?"
"I can't stop you," Donatello admitted quietly.
"I'm not sure I can either," David said, as his hand began to glow with a warm light.
The brightness spread up his arm and down Donatello's, flowing through both of them. As the light enveloped them, Donatello turned to face the other half of his spirit.
"Where will I find you again?" David asked.
"You know where Mom hangs the Bat Signal?" Donatello said, and David nodded. "Wait for me there."
"I'll see you soon," David said.
"You better," Donatello said. "Jerk."
"Asshole."
Donatello laughed, and then he was gone.
When the light faded, David was a human with a shell.
"I dunno if this is better or worse," Raph said, and Leo tactfully didn't comment either way.
David looked at the two discarded shirts on the bed. "Guess I don't need those anymore." He stood up, leaving the clothes behind. "So, how does the astral plane work? Is my whole apartment out there?"
"Let's find out," Leonardo said, and he opened the door.