Rating: T

Warnings: Overall story - Brief mentions of torture. Bit of language.

Disclaimer: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles and all related characters belong to Nickelodeon.

Summary: For months now, Mikey's been through hell with no one to count on but himself. He's finally been rescued but there are still two major problems; he's still desperately missing his family and he has no way home. No OCs. 2k3/2k12 crossover.

Comments, thoughts and concrit are always welcome.

A/N: Surprise! You get two stories updated by me this week! Why? Well, the reason why is in the after the chapter. *coughs* Please don't kill me.

I'm sorry about the wait. Thank you for your support and patience :-)

AOtGO – Aftermath

Ch 12

Date: 22nd Sept

A sudden loud whistle filled the air and Mikey jumped to alertness, whipping around and blinking in confusion at Splinter's back as the ninjutsu master lifted the boiling kettle and poured. A few moments later, he turned and placed a large foam cup down in front of Mikey.

"Instant ramen?" he squeaked in surprise.

Splinter nodded. "Please try to eat some once it cools a little," he commanded gently. "You may add the flavour sachet or leave it as you desire," he added, placing it down beside the instant meal.

"I... I think I'll leave it," Mikey replied quietly, reaching over and pulling the ramen closer. He enjoyed the feeling of the warmth against his hands, if not the smell itself. At least, he figured, it would be soft and go down more easily, especially if he cut the noodles into smaller, more manageable lengths first. He smiled gratefully back up at Splinter, wondering why he didn't think of it after seeing it in the cupboard earlier. "Thanks, Sensei!"

Splinter nodded once, then turned back to the kettle, pouring water for tea. "Would you like some chamomile?" he asked, glancing back over his shoulder.

"No thanks," Mikey shook his head. "I'd rather just have water." Plain and tasteless. Far easier to stomach.

Splinter walked over a few moments later, looking at the laptop screen curiously. Approvingly, Mikey noticed in relief. The ninjutsu master sat on a nearby seat.

"Has Donatello been able to speak with you about your rehabilitation exercises?"

"No, not yet," Mikey replied carefully, knowing full well that Splinter knew Leo brought it up hours ago. "But it's okay, I learnt them a few years ago."

"In that case, please make sure you work on them before you go to bed tonight," Splinter commanded softly before lifting his cup and taking a delicate sip. Mikey watched the way he drank. It wasn't tea ceremony, however, his method was obviously influenced by it.

"Yes, Sensei," he replied reluctantly

"Also, regardless of how well you know them or not, I still wish for you and Donatello to go over them together tomorrow," Splinter added firmly. "I know how anxious you are to recoup your strength, Michelangelo and I do not want you to go topside until you do."

Dispirited, Mikey nodded. He wanted to be able to fend for himself again without feeling weak or useless and he wanted to be able to help too. Neither did he want to feel cooped up again, like he was beginning to feel already. He wasn't, he knew that well enough after spending months in such a small, confined space that he couldn't even fully stretch out in, however, not being allowed topside until he could prove himself wasn't a good feeling. He needed to feel the breeze again, the coolness of the predawn air. The scent of trees or flowers in the air or at the very least, the exhaust of the concrete city above. He needed to see the stars and moon again, the clouds, perhaps even be rained upon.

He needed to feel total freedom again, to come and go as he pleased, within reason of course, and key to that was regaining his strength and stamina and proving himself capable to this family that didn't know what he, the once Battle Nexus Champion, was capable of.

Mikey narrowed his eyes in sudden thought but before he could open his mouth and broach the subject, Splinter rose to his feet. "I am off to meditate before bed. Do not forget to come to me should you need to and do not forget your rehabilitation."

"Night Grandpa Sensei and thanks for the ramen!"

"Of course," Splinter inclined his head briefly. "Try to eat as much as you can handle."

Mikey smiled tightly as he watched his other-dimensional grandfather leave, before standing and looking for the kitchen scissors to cut the noodles into smaller pieces so he could just drink them down.

-:-

"You're still up," Leo noted in surprise as he, Raph and Donnie returned to the lair, laden down with rescued materials.

"Not tired, bro," Mikey responded distractedly, mashing at the keys on the laptop, his gaze intent on the screen before him.

"Considering you slept half the day, I'm not surprised," Leo said drily. "How're you feeling? Any better than earlier?"

"Great! Yeah!" Mikey crowed enthusiastically as he killed a group of undead mobbing him on the screen. "Oh yeah! I did that order up but I haven't sent it off since I dunno the payment or delivery details."

"That's okay, I'll take care of that in a few minutes," Donnie replied distantly. "Leo, Raph, just put the salvage in the usual corner of my lab, please," he requested, veering automatically towards said room.

Raph rolled his eyes as he trotted after him, "Don't have to keep telling us every time, you know!"

"Right... of course..." Donnie muttered dejectedly. "Mikey's not here..."

Mikey glanced away from his game, seeing the downcast expressions on the brothers' faces and swallowed. Then a sound from the laptop drew his attention again and he hurriedly turned back to it.

A few minutes later, Donnie came over and stopped, staring. "Uh..."

"Oh! Sorry, dude! Hope you don't mind but I downloaded a game, 'Path of Exile'. It's free and pretty good so far," Mikey said cheerfully as he dodged an attack and fired back. He felt so much better with something warm in his stomach.

Donnie blinked, fighting back his displeasure. "Well, I would have preferred if you asked first but uh... I guess... you had no way to ask since I wasn't here..."

"Nope!" Mikey replied, popping the p as he focused on the intense fight on the screen.

"It better not have any viruses or spyware attached," Donnie warned. After the last time he let Raph download something, there was no way he was allowing anyone else do so without his thoroughly checking it out first.

"Nuh, safe site, bro. Promise!"

"And how can you be sure of that?" Donnie asked critically.

"Because I looked into it before downloading and I used to use a gaming platform just like this back home," Mikey quickly assured him as he continued killing zombies. Suddenly, the ground lit up underneath him and he swore as his hp ran down rapidly. He quickly moved his character out of range, looking for the assailant. There! He smiled and loosed a lightning attack in its direction. "You know, you got really a sweet connection down here, Don!" he praised appreciatively.

"Th-thanks," Donnie replied faintly, internally freaking out about his precious computer. "So... uh... could I get my laptop back?"

"Oh, sure, dude," Mikey replied in disappointment. "But could I have just a few more minutes please?" he begged. "I'm almost finished this instance."

Donnie settled down on the bench just behind Mikey and swallowed uncertainly. "Sure..."

"Thanks!" Mikey smiled brightly as he continued playing. A few minutes later, he logged out and handed over the laptop to an anxious Donatello. "That laptop looks really funky but it's great! Beautiful graphics, no lag, gamer's wet dream, dude!"

Donnie blinked, jaw gaping. "Uh... thanks?" he asked hesitantly.

"Could I play for a while again later?" Mikey pleaded. "Or maybe tomorrow? Please?"

"Well... I-I kind of need it," Donnie replied reluctantly; it had been a huge mistake to leave it with Mike, he realised, looking at the programs he'd downloaded.

"Oh... okay," Mikey replied, disappointed again. He tried not to slump into the beanbag.

"But... I guess you could use it when we're out," Donnie ventured, wincing internally at what he was saying as he began running virus scans.

Mikey fixed his gaze on him knowingly. "I promise dude, I checked first. Don made me learn when he built me my own gaming system because he didn't want to be fixing it every time I downloaded a game or went to a new site." He smirked in amusement, "Also picked up a few other skills while I was learning too." Ones his brother wished he hadn't learnt.

Donnie met Mikey's red, sore-looking eyes in surprise that his other-dimensional self even had the patience to do such a thing. "Hey! What's wrong with your eyes?" he asked in sudden alarm, the laptop instantly forgotten.

"Dust or whatever. Washed them out a couple of times but yeah..." Mikey shrugged. "They're not as bad as they were." And they weren't because he'd been so fixated on his game that he was able to ignore them and stop rubbing.

"Do you need some eye drops or something? I can ask April to pick some up for you tomorrow," Donnie offered.

Mikey smiled tightly. "Nuh, I'll be fine but... Leo said something about Grandpa Sensei having material for new masks and stuff? Would I be able to get some? And needle and thread too?"

"Of course," Donnie smiled, placing his laptop on the seat beside him as the scan continued to run. He stood and stepped up out of the pit. "I'll show you where it's all kept and you can help yourself as you need to."

"Thanks, dude!" Mikey said gratefully. He extricated himself from the beanbag – thankfully it was easier with practice – and followed Donnie through the lair to the storage room he'd been shown the other day. He didn't really want a new mask but he definitely needed one. Well, a couple really, if he were honest.

"The sewing supplies are kept in this drawer," Donnie pointed out, pulling the drawer open to show him, "and the machine is in the box underneath the desk. It's pretty old but it's in good condition." Then he spun on the spot, motioning to a nearby cupboard covered in wooden patches nailed to it. "The bolts of material are kept inside there. If you need or ever just want a hand, feel free to ask."

Mikey nodded, looking around the overstuffed, cramped room. There was a lot of really random junk in here, he realised. "Thanks but I'll be alright. Hey, would anyone have a problem with me doing it in the pit or kitchen?" he asked. There was no way he wanted to stay in this cramped room for too long at a time.

"No, that's fine," Donnie replied easily. "Just make sure if you drop any needles or pins to pick them up again immediately. Our feet might be tough but they're not impervious." He explained, lifting and waving one foot in illustration.

Mikey grinned broadly, "Tell me about it, dude," he drawled in amusement.

"Personal experience?" Donnie queried knowingly with a slight smile of his own.

"You could say that!" Mikey immediately snickered. It had taken a couple of days but Raph had eventually triggered a prank Mikey had once set up and come after him with deadly vengeance in his eyes. The problem at the time was that Mikey had been repairing some of their worn bedding at the request of Master Splinter who'd asked in a tone that brooked no argument of delay. When Raph collided with him, pins and needles flew everywhere and the family were still finding them, painfully, several days later. "Good times!" he half-cackled.

Donnie shot him an odd look before obviously deciding it wasn't worth asking. "Well, I'm going to go sort through the things we brought back tonight. Don't stay up too late."

"Sure," Mikey replied easily, looking around the room again to avoid Donnie's knowing gaze.

Once Donnie left, Mikey opened the cupboard door and peered inside. The orange material in there was a lighter shade than his own but he didn't mind. Absentmindedly, he began rubbing at his eye again before catching himself and groaning. The sooner he had a new, functional mask, the better.

-:-

Yawning widely, Donnie left his lab, closing the door securely behind him. He turned towards the bedrooms and suddenly blinked, noticing the television flickering in the pit. Focusing on it, he noticed it playing an infomercial for a Home Power Gym Bradford started advertising shortly before being mutated. Feeling slightly ill at the reminder of the once-human, Donnie made to turn off the TV, only to see Mike fast asleep in the beanbag. For a moment, he was loath to wake the other-dimensional turtle but memories of his lost brother having fallen asleep there and later whining of an aching neck and being cold surfaced. Donnie swallowed and stepped down into the pit.

"Michelangelo!" he called sharply at low volume – he didn't want to wake anyone else up – as he switched off the TV.

Mikey groaned, blinking blearily up at him. "Yeah?"

"Go to bed! It's after one," Donnie informed him quietly but sternly.

"Is that all?"

Donnie snorted lightly. "Training at seven-thirty, remember?"

"Right..." Mikey mumbled. "You guys like to torture yourselves by getting up at the crack of dawn. I forgot."

"Just go to bed before you wake up too much." Donnie watched as Mikey sighed and struggled to get out of the beanbag. "Need a hand?" He offered, a small smile gracing the corners of his mouth.

"Nope! I got this, dude," Mikey immediately answered before sinking deeper. Then, "Okay, maybe I don't got this."

Shaking his head in amusement at the antics of the sleepy turtle, Donnie reached out a hand and pulled Mike to his feet. For a moment, the other turtle stood there, swaying unsteadily and blinking in confusion.

"Good night, Mike," Donnie said pointedly as he walked towards the bedrooms. He stopped at the mouth of the passage and looked back to see Mike still standing there, looking his way and back to the beanbag as if torn so Donnie cleared his throat.

Mikey jumped slightly and gave a half laugh before following Donnie at last. "Right, night, dude," he replied a little uneasily.

The two walked side by side for the short distance before Donnie reached his room. He opened the door but stopped, watching Mike go into his brother's room and shut the door. He waited a few moments more before stepping into his own.

-:-

"I am forevermore the turtle that is known as the turtle that is Kraangs' Puppet," he hears himself saying in a flat, monotone voice. 'What the fuck? No!' he screams mentally, struggling desperately against the words spewing uncontrollably from his mouth. His body is no longer his own and he is powerless to stop the terrifying words or to move of his own volition.

Only minutes ago, he'd been in a pitch-black cell, being punished with complete darkness for once again openly defying them. They'd finally paralysed him with gas pumped into the cell, left the bowl of putrid nutrients and shut off the lights, leaving him awkwardly where he fell to suffer in the dark with the stench directly under his nose

For a good couple of hours or so, there is no way to be sure of the exact time, his stomach alternately rumbles with hunger and churns at the sickening smell and memory of taste. When the gas eventually wears off enough, he slowly sits up, shaking out aching limbs and looking around, blinking in the dark to try to see anything. It's pointless. It's so dark that he doesn't even see artefacts in his vision so instead, he clumsily feels about for the bowl in the darkness Once he finds it, he shakily brings it towards him and chugs down the meal down as fast as possible, chasing it down with water to wash the taste away before finally meditating, both in another fruitless attempt to call for help and to settle his roiling stomach.

The overpowering silence abruptly ends without warning and his eyes snap open, watering painfully at the sudden brightness as the lights flick on and the forcefield off. Somehow, he makes them out anyway, standing there in their exosuits, wickedly sharp teeth glinting in nasty smiles of amusement and excitement as one of them points a new weapon at him. A horrifying chill races through him and without thinking, he jumps to his feet, springing at them. The Kraang fires and he feels something solid and sharp slam into his forehead, digging deep into the flesh and bone with cruel prongs and he falls flat on his face, unable to save himself.

"Ow..." he moans as he picks himself up. Or rather... he thinks he does, yet he hears nothing and neither does he move. Instead, he just continues to lay there, face down on the cold, metallic floor like a puppet with its strings cut.

He tries to move again but to no avail and that's when the fear begins to arise anew.

Suddenly, he feels intense pressure on his head and shell, grinding them into the ground and he attempts to look up.

He can't even move his eyes!

Panic overrides his fear and he can't help but scream but he can't hear it, can't open his mouth and that makes him panic all the more!

Hearing himself talk and mocking or defying them was all that kept him going in his otherwise soundless prison. All that kept him sane! How the hell is he supposed to cope with this when he can't even make a sound now? It is far worse than the paralysis gas at feeding times has ever been.

Abruptly, the painful grinding ceases and he hears the Kraang moving away as against his will, he rises slowly to his feet, staring directly forward the entire time.

He tries to run! He tries to attack! Tries to simply step away but instead, one foot lifts, the knee bending unnaturally as he steps forward towards them in halting, clumsy steps, tripping over the rim of his prison when his foot doesn't lift quite high enough to step over. He slams down hard onto his beak, unable to even throw out a hand to catch himself.

'What have you done to me?' he screams mentally at them. There is no reaction from them and he simply rises against his will once more and continues walking, his breathing hitching painfully in his chest even as he sees his prison has been moved down to ground level for easier access.

To his mounting horror, he slowly kneels and prostrates himself to a crowd of chortling and jeering Kraang. His mouth finally opens of its own accord and his voice speaks out, "I am forevermore the turtle that is known as the turtle that is Kraangs' Puppet."

-:-

"Hargh!" Mikey softly cried out, heart racing in terror as he thrashed, falling out of bed. Lashing out in panic, he struggled against the blanket to sit up, whipping his head around wildly and quailing at the sight of the humanoid cardboard cut-out and the eyes staring at him from the posters in the near dark of the room.

"No!" he keened softly again. He didn't want to give them the satisfaction of hearing and seeing his distress but he couldn't stop himself. "No! Nononononono!"

Suddenly, he became aware he could hear himself.

He could hear his voice. His tones. His accent.

He could move his head and his eyes by his own choice! He could look at what he wanted to look at and in the direction he wanted to look in!

Slowly, shakily, he lifted his hands in front of his face in disbelief, trying to reassure himself that his body was truly his own again. Then his hands flew to his forehead, feeling frantically all over for the device he swore he could still feel biting viciously into it. To his overwhelming relief, however, there was nothing there. Nothing but the faint left-over indentations from where the torture device had clamped tightly into his skin for at least a week.

The longest, most terrifying and miserable week of his life.

Worse even than when they'd force-fed him that glop until he could keep it down without throwing it back up and once upon a time, he'd thought that things couldn't possibly get worse than that.

He slumped forward in relief, his head touching his bent knees as tears filled his eyes and spilt out.

Home.

He wanted to go home so badly!

He needed his father.

His brothers...

He didn't know how long he sat there like that, fighting to get control of himself, of his shaking and fear and tears.

"Donnie..."

He was many things. Like Raph, he wore his emotions on his proverbial sleeve.

Unlike Raph or the others of his family, he laughed loud and often, even when it wasn't always funny or appropriate.

He threw his joy into the face of the world that otherwise shunned and hated them, despite everything they did for it and everything they sacrificed.

He never feared expressing his fears or seeking comfort from those he loved. Or showing his worry when someone was hurt or missing.

But he wasn't one for tears. He hadn't been since he was little and learnt to hide such things to avoid ridicule from one particular brother. Right now though, it was all too much and he couldn't help himself.

"Leo..."

Mikey shuddered miserably, clutching at himself for comfort desperately.

"Raphie..."

He needed them so much. More than ever before.

"Dad...dy..." he choked.

He just wanted to go home...

-:-

A/N: Whoops! Guess who just discovered (last night) she had a fully typed, edited and unpublished chapter of this on her hard drive... I thought this was up ages ago, then I looked at the opening paragraph of ch 13 after opening it as a reminder to work on it (since Open Office didn't remember and automatically reopen the chapters I'd had open for editing before the latest windows update) and realised wait! That's doesn't pick immediately up from the previous chapter! Well, I guess that means 'Aftermath' gets updated before 'AOtGO' after all XD

* If you ever see my stories posted anywhere other than under the name Zelgadis55 at Deviant Art, FFNet, AO3 or Live Journal, then they have been stolen. Please report them.