Far from the raging battle between a hockey player and a ninja turtle, two turtles sprinted frantically through the block, their composure crumbling.
"Donnie, where is he?!" Mikey's voice cracked with panic.
"How am I supposed to know?!" Donnie snapped, pacing in circles, his fingers twitching with anxiety.
"Well, if I don't know, and you don't know, who does?!"
"I DON'T KNOW, MIKEY!" Donnie exploded, his movements sharp and frantic, tension suffocating him like a vice.
They scoured the road, retracing their steps to the spot where they'd last seen Raph, only to find nothing.
"Shit, shit, shit—what are we gonna do?" Donnie muttered, his voice spiraling into despair. If he had hair, he'd be tearing it out by now.
"Raph! Raphie! Dude, where are you?!" Mikey yelled, cupping his hands around his mouth as his wide eyes scanned the shadows. "Dude… did we seriously lose him?"
"I DON'T KNOW, OKAY?!" Donnie whirled on him, voice breaking. "I… God, Mikey, I don't know! I don't—" His words faltered into incoherent muttering, his spiraling thoughts spilling into the open.
Mikey froze, startled by the outburst. But his expression softened as he stepped closer, wrapping his arms around his older brother. "Hey, hey… calm down, dude. It's gonna be alright."
Donnie's frame tensed beneath the embrace, but slowly, Mikey's touch grounded him. "I-I… I don't—"
"We're going to find him," Mikey interrupted gently, his arms tightening slightly, as if to reassure them both. "You hear me, dude? We are going to find him."
Donnie bit the bottom of his lips as doubt gnawed at his chest. "And how can you be so sure?"
Mikey leaned back just enough to meet his brother's gaze, his eyes shining with unshakable determination. "Because we have to, Don," he said, his voice firm yet warm. "We promised each other, remember?"
Donatello paused for a moment before he took in a deep breath, the weight on his chest lifting ever so slightly.
"Besides, he couldn't have run off that far. Not to be mean or anything, but he doesn't seem like he could run off far," Mikey added.
Donnie sighed as a faint smile touched his lips. "Yeah… you're… You're right…"
Mikey grinned widely at him as he let go of their short embrace. "Duh, of course I am."
The taller turtle rolled his eyes, the smallest chuckle escaping him as he patted Mikey's back. "Come on, let's go on top of the buildings. We'll have a better chance there."
The two turtles leaped into action, their bond as brothers pushing them forward. They sprinted across the rooftops, their keen eyes scanning every inch of the streets below. The city blurred beneath them as they pressed forward, their breaths steady but hearts racing. Yet, as the seconds stretched into minutes, the weight of uncertainty began to settle over them. The pressure hung heavy in the cold night air, threatening to cloud their focus.
Maybe he is gone… Mikey suddenly thought as his chest twisted.
How long had he been carrying this fear? Every single day, he wrestled with the question—when would Raph come home? Every day, he hoped for Raph to come back to them, to laugh and play with them again, to yell at them, to hold them. That burning hope had kept him going all this time, the only reason he hadn't collapsed under the frustration and heartache of being surrounded by a family who had already grieved Raphael as if he were dead. He can't give up now, not when he's so close to holding him again.
"Mikey! Mikey!" Donnie called him in a loud whisper with his finger pointing directly at the ground.
"What?" He said back as his eyes followed him. His eyes widened slowly as he fully realized who was sitting down on the ground with his knees tucked into his chest so tightly as if he wanted to become a shadow behind the dumpster.
Mikey's heart leapt. Without hesitation, he moved to jump down, to rush toward the familiar shape that could only be Raph. His instincts screamed to grab him, to hold him close and never let go—but Donatello's arm shot out, stopping him in his tracks.
"Don't." Donatello said firmly. "Jumping in like that will scare him. We have to approach him carefully, calmly." He met Mikey's frantic eyes and added softly, "Understand?"
Mikey nodded without hesitation, swallowing the lump in his throat.
Together, they descended the building cautiously, their footsteps light as a feather against the pavement. The figure stirred at their approach, flinching at the sight of someone standing in the dim light before him.
"Oh uh…" Donnie stammered. "Hey Raph…" his voice uncertain, not knowing what to do or say, yet gentle, too afraid that if his voice were any louder it would scare him away.
Mikey squeezed his fingers into his palm, chest tightening at the sight of his brother—Raph, knees tucked so tightly against his chest it was as though he wanted to disappear entirely, with his wrist chained together by some sort of Kraang tech.
"We're not gonna hurt you, okay?" Donnie reassured as he stepped slightly closer, his knees slightly bent to be at the same level. Raph glared at him, but it wasn't the same anger that he would have when they had their brotherly argument. It was more terror than rage.
"Yeah, Raph… It's us. Remember?" Mikey asked in a painfully hopeful tone. "You… Remember us… Right?"
His eyes shifted between the two before slowly shaking his head.
Mikey could physically feel his heart dropping to the cement floor. What did he mean he doesn't remember? They were brothers—how could he forget them? His mind spiraled: Were they too late? Had someone wiped his memories? Brainwashed him? What happened to his big brother?
The crushing force of realization hit Mikey with a violent intensity, like a fist driving straight through his chest and leaving behind nothing but a gaping void where his heart was supposed to be.
He turned his head to his brother, as if asking him to tell him that he was wrong, that they could fix this. But Donatello didn't say anything and made eye contact.
Donnie had a sinking feeling he'd eventually forget about them, but that didn't make the pain any less real. Proving his worst fears did little to ease the ache.
"I… I know you don't know us… let alone trust us… but at least let us help you…" Donnie's voice cracked a little at the end, like a wave of emotion suddenly clashing over him for a moment.
However, it seemed as if Donnie's begging didn't phase Raph as his glare intensified and his fist tightened.
"I-I'm…" Donnie sputtered, "We're serious when we say we don't want to hurt you… and… a-all we want…"
Is for you to come back.
"Is for you to be okay…" He decided on saying instead, his voice trembling with unspoken desperation.
"Please…" The purple-masked turtle pleaded, utterly lost for words. Donnie hadn't felt this powerless since the day Raphael disappeared. Even if they somehow convinced him to return to the base, what then? Treating his injuries was one thing, but rebuilding the bond they once shared felt impossible.
Raphael was still his brother—always will be. But how much of the old Raph remained? That uncertainty terrified Donnie most of all.
Donnie didn't know, and that is what terrified him the most.
"Raph, we're your brothers!" Mikey suddenly blurted, breaking Donnie from his spiraling thoughts.
Donnie caught the subtle flinch in Raph's movements.
"Mikey!" Donnie hissed. "You're scaring him!"
However, despite Donnie's warning, Mikey pressed on, kneeling cautiously in front of Raph.
"See!" He exclaimed as he showed his palm, revealing his three turtle fingers. "We have them too, you know."
For a moment, Raph stared blankly at Mikey, his expression unreadable. Then his gaze shifted to his own hand, his eyes widening slightly as he compared them.
"We're family, Raph." Mikey smiled, sucking in the sob that was about to leave his throat. "And I promise… We're never going to hurt you… okay?"
T-0028 blinked at them, taking it all in. Family? The word felt foreign, distant. A life spent in a cold, sterile cell, subjected to relentless experiments, had never included anything close to family.
A warm and aching feeling churned in his chest, a painfully pleasant sensation. Tears stung at the corners of his eyes, as though fate had finally listened to his pleas and cries after so long.
But something still seemed off to him.
"Who…" He muttered, his voice cracking. "Who's Raph?"
The brothers froze, exchanging worried glances.
"U-Um…" Mikey stammered, his voice faltering. Before anyone could respond, a shout echoed through the block.
"DONNIE! MIKEY!"
"LEO!" Donnie called back. "WE'RE HERE!"
The sudden noise made Raph recoil, his hands clamping over his ears in a desperate attempt to block it out.
Oh, Raph…
Mikey's expression softened, his hand instinctively reaching toward Raph before hesitating and pulling back.
What have they done to you?
The cool, damp air sent shivers down T-0028's spine as the group made their way through the dim passage. Where they were headed, he wasn't entirely sure.
The three turtles claimed it was their home—including him. But he had no memory of what home even meant, nor did he recognize any of their faces.
They told him his name was… Raphael?
None of the Kraang had ever called him that. To them, he was just T-0028, a designation without identity. But Raphael… Raphael felt strange and unfamiliar, yet oddly comforting.
A noise behind them made him freeze, and his legs buckled once again, sending him to the ground.
"Raph?! Y-You okay?" The blue one knelt beside him, concern etched into his face. T-0028 looked up cautiously, remembering this was the one who had fought the boy before. The intensity in his gaze made him feel small, a little intimidated.
He forced a nod, struggling to his feet despite the trembling in his limbs. "Be careful. Don't push yourself too hard," the purple one advised, his tone calm but firm.
The orange one remained quiet, yet T-0028 could sense his presence close by, as if offering silent support.
With a steadying breath, he pressed his hand against the cold, wet wall and began walking again, each step a battle against his unsteady legs. The wet tiles beneath him glistened faintly in the low light, a fragile path toward a place they called home.
The tunnel felt like a void as time passed far too slowly. Maybe it was because of him; after all, he could barely walk without stumbling. It was slightly easier with the chains anymore, the blue one had really sharp weapons that could cut through, but it didn't change his fragile bones. He felt guilty for causing so much trouble; they should really get home as quickly as possible. But, for some reason, neither of them complained.
He still couldn't wrap his head around how their hands looked exactly the same, their skin, even their face—with some slight changes. He had never seen someone who looked like him; it was some strange déjà vu.
"Hey." T-0028 jolted at the sudden voice, his body tensing instinctively.
"Oh, uh… Sorry. I didn't mean to scare you…" It was the blue one again, his voice softer this time.
T-0028 hesitated, then gave a small nod, as if to reassure him.
The blue one shifted slightly, pointing ahead. "I just wanted to let you know… we're here."
Here? T-0028 blinked, his gaze following the direction of the blue one's gesture. At the end of the tunnel was an opening—a faintly glowing hole in the wall that led to what appeared to be a brighter space.
The climb out of the tunnel was awkward and difficult; the opening was slightly elevated, and his body still felt weak and shaky. But with the help of his three supposed 'brothers,' he managed to clamber through without incident, his feet finally landing on solid ground.
The tunnel had widened into a large, dimly lit room. It was cluttered, chaotic even, but strangely welcoming. Furniture pieced together from mismatched scraps filled the space, and a faint glow illuminated from the makeshift lights. The air was damp but oddly soothing against his skin, and for the first time in what felt like an eternity, he could breathe without feeling the weight of fear on his chest.
This place was nothing like the dark, suffocating cage that the Kraang had kept him in. It felt… safe. He didn't know why, but the tension in his shoulders began to ease ever so slightly with each step he took.
Home…
"Welcome to Casa de Turtles, bro!" The orange one exclaimed, throwing his arms wide as if presenting a royal palace.
T-0028 blinked, his eyes scanning every corner of the space. It felt chaotic, unfamiliar, and overwhelming—but there was something about it that tugged at him.
His whole body jolted when a palm was suddenly placed on his shoulder. By instinct, he slapped the hand away only to reveal concern, red-brownish eyes staring at him.
"O-Oh, um… Sorry, that was my bad." The purple one apologized. T-0028 immediately relaxed as he lowered his hand.
"I wanted to ask you to come with me. You must have a lot of untreated injuries, so I would like to take a look at them. I-If you don't mind, of course."
T-0028 paused, a little shocked by the offer. He wasn't used to someone asking for his permission—let alone offering to help him.
He nodded slowly as if scared that he was just being fooled again.
Donnie let out a relieved sigh. "Alright, let's get something for you to eat first. I'm sure you must be really hungry."
T-0028 hadn't realized how hungry he was until just now, as his stomach rumbled lowly. When was the last time he ate?
"Yo, we got pizza. Want some, Raph?" The orange one suddenly looked up, his grin as bright as the lights overhead.
T-0028 tilted his head, the word unfamiliar. "Pizza?"
A thrill flashed across his eyes. "Hohohoo! Oh man! You are going to LOVE this, dude!"
He maneuvered him toward the small pit in the middle of them, pushing to sit down near the cushion. "Wait here!" The orange one bolted to the far side of the room, and the purple turtle seemed unfazed, moving his attention to a different room while calling the orange-haired girl and the raven-haired boy to "come with him."
He sat awkwardly, stunned. He had never seen someone so energetic. He could barely process the next thing he was going to do.
"He's just like that." The blue one chuckled softly, shooting a glance toward him. "You'll get used to it. I know it could be a little bit overwhelming at first, but he just… misses you so much…" His gaze suddenly fell as his smile turned bittersweet. "We, um… W-..We all do…"
He blinked at him, unfamiliar with the strange, heavy words.
"We're family, Raph."
He couldn't help but remember the tingling sensation when his hands met with another, when his words looped again and again, wondering, will he really get used to this?
Before he could make any response, the orange turtle returned with a box and held it out proudly. "Trust me, this stuff is magic."
The smell wafted up as the box was opened, something warm and savory. T-0028 hesitated, glancing toward the blue one, who nodded encouragingly. He reached for a slice, his fingers trembling slightly.
The first bite was overwhelmingly powerful—foreign textures and flavors he couldn't name—but there was something oddly comforting about it. He chewed slowly, his mind racing to process the sensation. He couldn't help but take another one.
"Good, huh?" The orange one said, already halfway through his own slice.
T-0028 nodded as he took another bite selfishly, stuffing the whole slice into his mouth as the gooey, golden coating smudged all over his face.
He stopped midway when he heard soft laughter from above. He glanced up to see the blue one chuckling as he leaned back slightly, his arms crossed over his chest. If he paid really close attention, he could see his eyes glistening just slightly.
"Hm? What's so funny?" The orange one asked curiously.
"Oh, it's uh…" His laughter died down but his lips remained tugging upwards. "It's nothing."
They both looked at him strangely but didn't say anything further and instead savored the moment. T-0028 didn't understand this feeling. He wasn't used to this—a lightness that felt genuine, untainted by tension or fear. His eyes darted between the turtles, their smiles and carefree banter wrapping around him like a soft blanket. It was strange, almost foreign, but not entirely unwelcome.
For once, it felt like he could breathe without thinking twice about whether someone would drag him by the throat.
"My sons," a voice echoed unexpectedly, causing T-0028 to flinch. He lifted his head toward the source, startled by the sudden presence. "I didn't realize you had already…"
The words faltered, trailing off into a stunned silence as the figure's eyes landed on him. "Ra… Raphael?" His voice trembled, filled with disbelief.
The frail turtle stared back, unsure of how to react, his gaze cautiously scanning the man before him.
The speaker was covered in gray fur, aged and, oddly, well-groomed. A longer tuft of fur hung beneath his chin like a small beard. He was draped in a well-worn brown coat, and behind him swayed a long, furless tail, moving subtly with each step.
"My son…" the man muttered, his voice thick with emotion. "Is that… are you…?"
He began to step closer, his movements hesitant. His face carried a blend of shock, hope, and an urgent yearning for certainty.
T-0028 felt his chest tighten, almost suffocating. He shuffled back, putting a small distance between them. His heart raced as confusion and unease clawed at him. Who was this? Why was he looking at him with such familiarity and longing?
Just as the turtle considered retreating further, a gentle hand rested on his shoulder.
"It's okay…" The blue one reassured. "He won't hurt you."
He glanced up to meet his ocean eyes, wide and scared, as if asking, Are you sure?
The blue turtle only smiled, loosening his grip off his shoulders. "He'll never hurt you, Raph."
He swallows his nerves before looking up at the Rat man in front of him. He watches him drop to his knees in front of him, carefully lifting his hands, gently cupping his face in his palm.
"Oh… Oh my, it is you…" He chokes, stinging tears lining his eyes as his lips tug into a heartwarming smile.
His palms were warm, much warmer than the turtles'. It felt like a burning wave of electricity choking up his throat. His nails were sharp; he could easily cut his cheek right about now. The thought alone made him face away from him, forcing him to let go of him.
"My son… are you okay?…" He asked worriedly. "What has happened to you to be left in this state?…"
The room fell silent, devastatingly silent. His breath hitched, hands trembling beside him as he clenched them tightly. He couldn't bring himself to meet his gaze, his body stiff as if he physically locked the memories at the back of his brain.
"Raphael…" He calls, his tone soft and tender.
"I…" He utters, his voice quivering as he tries to bring out an answer. But nothing really left his lips.
As the silence drags on, a door behind them suddenly opens, revealing the purple turtle and the red-haired one.
"We're done cleaning up," the red-haired one explained, gesturing toward the room with a thumb. "We can start checking your injuries whenever you're ready."
"Have you eaten, Raph?" the purple turtle asked.
Raph nodded slowly.
"Alright, that's good," the purple turtle replied. "Come on, let's get you checked."
The two turtles beside him helped him to stand as they continued to hover their hands over him while they walked. The movement was slow and deliberate, the weight of his weakened frame leaning heavily on the two turtles at his sides. He kept his gaze on the floor, too exhausted to look up, the world around him a blur of muted colors and muffled sounds.
"Alright, you're almost there, Raph." The red-haired one said encouragingly. He didn't even realize he was already inside the room.
The three of them helped him up onto the table, carefully easing him down onto the padded surface. He winced as his sore muscles stretched and his body adjusted to the new position, but he didn't complain.
"Don't worry, alright?" The orange turtle said cheerfully. "Donnie is like an expert at this, trust me! I am great at it."
"Yeah, not really a good thing to be proud of." The red-haired one rolled her eyes.
T-0028 turned his gaze to the side, locking eyes with the black-haired boy once more. The boy was clutching a towel to his bleeding arm, his silence deafening. His glare cut through the room, sending an icy shiver down T-0028's spine.
"Alright, let's get started," the purple turtle said, his voice calm and reassuring.
T-0028 nodded as he tried to relax his shoulders, taking in a deep breath. He hears something being pulled over and looks off to the side to see a rolling tray stacked with supplies—medicine, bandages, and… syringes and a sharp metal… stuff.
"T-0028, hold still. This will be much easier if you stay still," The Kraang instructed.
"STOP! PLEASE STOP!"
He screamed as the cold metal slid under his skin, cutting through the layers of tissue. Crimson dripped through the fresh incision as the blade dragged across his body.
It burns! IT BURNS SO MUCH!
"W-What…" He uttered, his tone noticeably trembling. "W-What is that?" He pointed at the small metal blade on the tray.
"Oh," Donnie glanced over and picked the small bladr up. "This?"
T-0028 looked at it for a while, his shoulders tensing for a moment, before hesitantly nodding.
"Oh um, this is a scalpel. Why?" He asked curiously.
"Kraang, give Kraang the scalpel."
"Kraang, where is the scalpel?"
"Get me a scalpel, Kraang."
"Kraang, fetch me a scalpel."
"Kraang, the scalpel."
"Kraang, can Kraang get the scalpel?"
"Is there a scalpel, Kraang?"
"Kraang. Scalpel."
"—The scalpel."
"—Scalpel."
Scalpel.
Scalpel. Scalpel. Scalpel. Scalpel. Scalpel. Scalpel. Scalpel. Scalpel. Scalpel. Scalpel.Scalpel. Scalpel. Scalpel. Scalpel. Scalpel. Scalpel. Scalpel. Scalpel. Scalpel. Scalpel.
Get it away. Get it away. Get it away. Get it away. It'll cut. It'll bleed. It will hurt. It's going to hurt. It hurts so much. So much. It burns. It burns so much. It's going to burn. They're going to hurt me. The Kraang. The Kraang is here. Get it away. Get away. Get away. They're going to cut me. Look at me. Look inside him. They're going to hurt me. The Kraang. The Kraang is starting. They're starting. They're cutting me. THEY'RE CUTTING ME.
Get away. Get away. Get away. Get away. Get away. Get away. Get away. Get away. Get away. Get away. Get away. Get away. Get away. Get away. Get away. Get away. Get away. Get away. Get away. Get away. Get away. Get away. Get away. Get away. Get away. Get away. Get away. Get away. Get away. Get away. Get away. Get away. Get away. Get away. Get away. Get away. Get away. Get away. Get away. Get away. Get away. Get away. Get away. GET AWAY. GET AWAY!
His legs shot out in a frantic burst of motion, slamming into the Kraang's chest with desperate force.
"GET AWAY FROM ME!" he cried out, his voice raw and trembling as he scrambled backward, his limbs betraying his exhaustion.
"WHOA, WHOA, RAPH! What's going on, dude?!" one of the Kraang exclaimed, its pink, tentacle-like appendages flailing wildly as it tried to pin him back down onto the table.
"Raph! Talk to us! What's wrong?!" another Kraang called out, its slimy limbs inching closer. But before it could get a proper grip, Raphael mustered what little strength he had left, weakly shoving the creature away. However, the force made him tumble to the ground, a throbbing pain blooming on his back as his bare bones hit the cool floor.
His breaths came in sharp, uneven gasps as he pressed himself against the cold surface behind him, eyes darting wildly as if expecting another attack. The terror in his chest felt suffocating, like he was drowning in a sea of confusion and fear.
"GET AWAY! I SAID GET AWAY!" He screamed, his voice strained and quivering. His legs gave out, his muscles completely strained as all he could do was crawl on the ground.
He ran away. He ran away from that horrible nightmare! Why is he here? Why is he back? When did he get back? How? How did this happen?
Was it all a lie? Did they trick him?
Tears prickled at the corner of his eyes, spilling over his cheeks as if begging for mercy. His arms trembled with each pull, each motion was a visible struggle.
A faint ringing built in his ears, swelling and throbbing, growing louder and louder until it felt like it might split his skull. The pink alien figures approached, their movements slow yet deliberate, their lips moving in shapes he couldn't decipher.
"Hey, we're—" The words warped, twisted, then faded into an unintelligible blur.
"Ra—" The sound broke apart, shattering like glass against the incessant ringing.
"My so—" Another voice, hauntingly close yet painfully distant, dissolved into static.
"We're not—" Gone, swallowed by the deafening chaos in his head.
The fragments of sound drifted in and out, overlapping like broken echoes, however, only the thundering tremor in his skull was clear enough to hear.
He stumbled backward, his feet dragging against the ground until his head hit the cold wall. His hands clawed at the ground as he scrambled into the corner, his breathing ragged and erratic, chest heaving like it might burst.
Curling in on himself, he ducked his head beneath his trembling arms, his clammy hands gripping onto his skin. The walls felt like they were closing as the shadows of his captors cornered him with the little space he had left.
"STAY BACK!" He cried as he dug his nails deeper. "I SAID STAY BACK!"
The air felt impossibly thin, suffocating him with every breath he forced in. His vision swayed, and the figures around him seemed to stretch, towering over him. He saw dark, looming hands reaching out, fingers curling as if to pull him into the chaos. "Raph! I-I—"
"GET AWAY!" His voice was a roar, raw and strangled, a pathetic attempt at defense. It was a weak cry against the rising panic building in his chest. His fist flew out, fueled by the fight-or-flight instinct, and collided with something, a sickening thud that reverberated through his body.
The voices returned—muffled, warped, too close—suffocating him like a heavy blanket. He couldn't hear them clearly, but their words were like nails scraping across his mind.
Get away. Get away. Get away. Get away. His mind repeated like a broken mixtape. It was relentless, a never-ending loop that drowned out everything else, leaving only the rising terror clawing at his throat as it became its own monster.
He didn't even register when a strong presence wrapped around him, restraining him on the floor.
"HOLD STILL, DAMN IT!"
No! No! NO! His body was on fire, his muscles twitching with the need to escape, but every movement only singed his flesh even more, tearing in like a blazing knife ripping through the layers of his skin.
It burns! IT BURNS! He would rip his skin off if he could, leaving his stained imprint behind if he had the chance. His lungs struggled for air, each breath sharp and desperate, a fight for survival.
"GET AWAY!" The scream that erupted from his throat was a guttural, broken thing. His body trembled violently, but it was useless. He couldn't escape, couldn't fight the force that had him pinned.
Then, without warning, something sharp pricked his arm. It stung for a second, only for a second. He squirmed for a moment or two later before his muscles suddenly relaxed; a wave of drowsiness crashed against him, heavy and thick like a fog settling over his mind.
"Hey… Raph…." A voice came, a clear voice. Someone soft and familiar.
"Don't… please don't worry… okay?… please?" The voice faltered, a gentle tremble in the words. And for a moment, his blurry vision cleared for just a heartbeat.
Purple… Orange and… Blue…
And then, after one last breath… black.
To say it was easy to bring Raphael home was an understatement.
His legs were so frail he could barely walk. Leo offered to carry him, but even the sensation of touching felt like burning hot lava on his skin. Leo couldn't bear seeing him wailing and squirming in his arms; at the same time, he couldn't stand looking at him limping, struggling to stand on his two feet.
He had to restrain himself from cradling him, as he was warned by Donatello. But how could he feel any sense of relief when he hasn't even held him in his arms yet?
He's right there!
But he can't.
But He's right THERE!
Hold him. Cradle him. Hug him as tightly as you can. Make sure he never leaves your sight again.
But he can't.
He thought seeing his brother alive would finally relieve his stress and worries, but he still feels that empty puzzle piece in his soul. Despite staring at his chest heaving air, clearly breathing, he still has a need to hold his little brother.
He still needs to make sure he's alive. He still needs to make sure he's alright. He still—
"Would you hold still for just a sec!"
"Can you get your gross hands off me!"
"I'm stitching your arm, stupid!" Donnie clicks his tongue in annoyance. "Now hold still."
Leo glances over to see Donnie, trying to, stitch Casey's wounded arm. He still shivers at the sight of the crimson liquid dripping, tissues revealing from under his skin.
Casey tsked under his breath before cussing over the stinging pain. "Shit, shit, shit… Jesus, can you be any more careful, prick?"
"Excuse me, I AM being careful! You're the prick for not letting me concentrate," Donnie grumbles, his jaw tightening.
The raven-haired man rolled his eyes, glaring at the turtle-man in front of him. "Whatever."
The leader in blue sighs, questioning himself whether or not it was a good idea to bring the teenager back to their base. Donnie had argued that he would expose their well-being, which made sense to Leo. However, he couldn't help but feel guilty for almost cutting his limb off.
It didn't take much convincing when April started agreeing with Leo too. Her reasoning was that healthcare was too expensive around here.
Leo looks off to the other side to see Master Splinter, April, and Mikey by Raph's side, who's lying on the medical table.
His chest clenches as he recalls the way Raph whimpered, the way he squirmed into the very corner of Donnie's lab, the way he thrashed in Casey's grip.
He has never seen someone so terrified in his life.
"Hey, Don…" Leo calls with his eyes away from him.
"Yeah?" Donatello replies, still fixated on stitching up Casey's wounds.
"How… How long is Raph going to be unconscious?" He didn't need to look back to see Donnie's shoulder stiffen, as his long and agonizing pause was enough to say.
"Around 2-8 hours, depending on his weight and metabolism. I'll say it's going to take a while," he explains.
Leo sighs, pressing his lips into a thin line. "A…Alright."
A few minutes pass until Donnie has finally finished with Casey's stitching. However, he was given a half-hearted "thanks" and then simply walked away.
April huffs tiredly. "I'll go talk to him," she says as she pats Donnie's shoulder before leaving the lab.
The purple-masked turtle sighs, though he doesn't want to think too much about the whiny teenager—that ungrateful bastard.
Donnie stands up and walks up to Raph, examining his injuries. His fingers caress over his sickly-green skin. Cold shivers crawl up his spine. He could barely see nor feel any fat and muscles underneath. His scales were dry, flaking even, and his shell smells of rot.
He forces down the nervous lump, attempting to appear a little more put together than he is. But how could he when his brother is lying there almost corpse-like?
"Is he going to be alright?…" Mikey asks innocently.
Donnie looks over to meet the eyes that belong to his little brother, pleading for reassurance. He could trace the tear stains across his cheeks; it doesn't take a genius to figure that out.
He exhales heavily, his head hanging low as his shoulder slumps forward. Don't lie… Donnie told himself.
Maybe it's just his pessimistic mindset that makes him believe that Raph is never going to make it out alive. He's always thought of himself as the most 'realistic' out of his brothers. He has the brain and the knowledge. That should mean he's the smartest. Yet Raph is now lying right in front of him.
"Donnie?" His voice appears again.
Have more faith, damn it.
"He… He'll…" he bites his tongue. His eyelids shut for a moment before looking back at him again. "He'll eventually be okay, Mikey… I'll make sure of it."
Sorry I think this one is a little bit messy haha.