Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Shouldn’t we pick up something for dinner?” The never-ending tunnels of the sewers echoed his voice, dirty water rushing to their left after a particularly hard storm. 

“Michaelangelo told me he’d try cooking for everyone again,” Cassandra said before stopping, tensing. She put a hand in front of Casey to stop him, and put a finger to her mouth to hush him.

Casey crouched down with his mother-from-another-timeline, pressing against the wall. There’s a loud clattering of metal on metal, what sounds just aggressive punches and grunting, and some mixed yelling. The only sound that comes from the pair is the quiet swish of Cass’s pocket knife sliding out. 

They’re awfully close to the boys’ lair for so much struggle to be happening. Casey pulls out his phone, April on speed dial.

April had stayed at the NYU a little later, catching up on work she’d missed while busting alien butt a few weeks ago. It had nearly been a whole month since the Kraang’s destruction; Casey was sharing a dorm room with April after Donnie forged some documents for him. Cassandra and Sunita shared another dorm room, and while they fought at first, they seemed to get along pretty okay now. They still fought, but now it was for fun.

April was usually the mediator in their hangouts, especially when they’d all gone out for burgers to meet each other and Casey found out Cassandra was an ex-Foot soldier. 

Cassandra motioned for Casey to follow her as they moved towards the noise. To the future-boy’s surprise, he saw four mutant turtles, each wearing a mask of familiar branding, trying to pry open the door to the lair. 

But these weren’t his turtles, future or not - these were imposters. Bad ones, too. He dialed April in seconds of seeing them, the dial tone alerting the others of his and his mother’s presence. 

Cass let out a guttural war cry, charging forward. She slings her varsity jacket off, not holding back any punches or kicks. Her knife made for a great surprise. 

April is shrieking through the line, only to be cut short by the phone shattering against the cement. Casey looks up in partial awe and partial panic as the purple masked one twirls a staff.

He used to spar Donnie in his timeline all the time, he could handle a bland copy. 

This imposter screeches a little as Casey throws him against the floor, keeping him there with a boot. The turtle looks over to his friends in a flustered panic to see them all piled on the floor.

“Junior! You good?” Cass gasps, as she inspects his arms. She sighs in relief to see no cuts or immediate bruising, although he had a solid hit to the right shoulder that would surely leave a mark.

“I’m fine, I’m fine. Fought much worse before. April is on her way, I hope,” He grimaces at the shattered device. The purple turtle under his foot chuckles nervously, showing a tooth gap. 

The door to the lair hisses open, built up steam creeping outwards and a much more familiar purple turtle steps out. He has his attention on his arm brace, and a purple drone humming to his right. 

He hums a slight acknowledgement at the scene before him, before walking over to Cassandra and holding up a hand. She reciprocates the high-three.

“Well done, Cass. I was going to let them keep at it to see if we needed to improve anything in the systems, but you’re fighting is amenable and oh-so helpful.” Master Donatello smiles at Junior, patting him on the shoulder. 

“So, what do we do with them, sir?” Casey asks before receiving a short lived stink eye from Donnie. 

“Well, kid,” The turtle spits out a playful response, “I suggest we dispose of them, just like we did with the Kraang.”

The turtle that was watching from under Casey’s foot grimaced, shrinking into his shell a little. 

There’s a sharp panting from behind the crew. Donnie waves to the source, smiling softly.

“April O’Neil!” The panting cheers her own name, raising her bat. “What happened?! Casey said you needed help?”

“Playful laugh,” he intoned, “Your assistance may only be required in one way. We don’t know what to do with these imposter mutants.” Casey can hear a smile in his Master’s voice, bringing one to his own face.

The smile is quickly wiped clean as he eyed a red bandana-wearing turtle nodding his swaying head at the purple one. 

“Guys—“ Junior is cut short by the purple one flipping him onto his back, landing a solid kick on his chest. The red one picked up the blue and orange before putting himself into a defensive position.

Donnie’s eyes widened as he turned back around. Shelldon, still hovering at his side, armed his own artillery. Casey, from the ground mind you, notices Leo at the lair’s door, both arms clutching crutches.

“Leo! Get inside and lock down!” Donatello commands, twirling his decked-out bō. 

“No way, bro!” The slider argued, looking ready to fight. 

The orange imposter looks between everyone with frantic eyes, before commanding everyone to stop. He turns towards his own brothers, before they all nod and turn back to Casey’s family.

Leo’s small imposter steps forward, putting a hand on his plastron.

“I’m sorry we got off on the wrong foot. My name is Leonardo, although I’m sure you’d have assumed that,” before Cassandra can add a quirky quip, he continues, “We are your family, from another universe. Donatello, you may gawk over the multiverse later, but I really think your Leonardo should be laying down right now.”

Casey goes to help Leo back inside, but is stopped as he turns towards the others with a nasty glare. 

“How did you get here? Are you alone?”

The other turtles all share a look, before glancing over to their Donatello.

“Yeah,” he chuckles nervously. Again. “So, I may have been fiddling with some alien tech.”

“Again,” Their Raphael scoffs, “That’s all he does. Half of these ‘wacky adventures’ start by genius getting us in trouble. So, when can we go back?”

Casey is stunned by the harsh tone lining Raphael’s words. He looks over to Leo, who is now surrounded by Cass, April and Donnie.

Donnie lets out a heave, “I… don’t know. I’m not sure we have your tech to replicate the portal. The best I can do is make it by hand, with your Donnie’s help.”

Leo readjusts his crutch, looking at the floor for a split second before plastering on a smile and waving everyone inside. 

“Come on in. We’ll get you home in no time. In the meanwhile, April, can you go ask Mikey and Raph to make double?” 

April salutes before speed walking towards the kitchen. The remaining Rise gang shuffle inside, the 2012 following short.

Raphael and Leonardo don’t look keen to talk, but Michaelangelo is quick to catch up to Casey and start a conversation.

“Hey, you’re Casey right?”

Junior looks at Michaelangelo hesitantly before nodding, slow and steady. 

“Okay. So who’s the lady who absolutely kicked our butts?”

“That’s a long story…” He hitches his breath, an unwilling smile creeping up. “She’s my mom. Cassandra.”

“Junior! Don’t talk to them!” Donnie demands from ahead. Casey looks at Michaelangelo quickly before nodding and going up to the turtles. 

They don’t walk for much longer as they arrive outside Donnie’s lab. 

“Leo— my Leo— and other me, inside with me. Junior, Cass, keep an eye on the others. Bring dinner up to us when it’s ready. Leo has been showing off his crutches too much.”

Casey nods firmly, watching as other Donatello and Master Leonardo follow his Donnie into the— this is getting confusing, Casey realises as he clutches his head.

He lifts his head back up to wince at the tension between Cass and the others. Specifically Raphael, who looks like he wants payback for earlier.

Michaelangelo is gawking at the graffiti sprawled across the sewer walls, his eyes sparkling at the art. 

“Y’know, Mikey— our Mikey gets paid to do this all over New York and the Hidden City.” Cass shoots Casey a warning glare, but he ignores her, continuing at Michael’s confusion. “Hidden City under New York? Home to the Yōkai? None of this?”

Michael shakes his head. “We don’t have that sort of stuff at home. I wish we did, it sounds so cool!”

Even Raph breaks his intense staring competition to inquire about some things. “Your Mikey gets paid? Actual money?”

Casey nods, thinking fondly of the young master who would give his life to save the world. And has. 

“That’s so cool! Is that how they can get all these cool things! Like those crutches. They looked like actual human crutches.”

Junior almost snickers at Mikey’s curiousity. “Actually we brought those home from the hospital check up. After… the incident, we had to have Master Leonardo checked into a Yōkai hospital. He didn’t wake up for a week, but once he did, he was an awful patient!”

Leonardo looks at the ground, shifting his feet. “Master…?”

Casey Junior chokes up on this observation, tugging at his school brand hoodie and looking away, flushed. “Habit. Still trying to get out of it.”

“Squirt, you really shouldn’t be spilling our lives to a bunch of strangers,” Cassandra sighs, arms crossed over her chest.

“What strangers— Oh my god!” There’s their Raph, wearing an apron with “Hug The Chef” written on in cursive and an oven mitt in one hand. He stops at the sight of the blander them, and Raphael scoffs at Raph.

Junior chuckles, “Raph, this is you and your brothers from another dimension. Leo and Donnie have their Donatello. To avoid confusion, I’m just calling them by their full names.”

Raph breathed deeply, closing his eyes, before nodding. 

“Well, that explains the doubling of the recipe. April really should’ve explained this earlier. Anyhow! Guests are guests, this universe or not. Casey, can you take them downstairs? I need to feed our dearest twins.”

Junior nods firmly, motioning for the otherworldly turtles to follow. Cassandra takes her place in the back, arms still crossed and eyes narrowed. The 2012 turtles were drooling by the time they reached the kitchen, the smell of homemade gumbo filling the air. Nothing like Michael’s cooking!

Speaking of Michael, his counterpart was turning off the stovetop, dishing out bowls like a restaurant chef. He gathered how many he would need from April, who is staring at the all-too-small dining table, brows furrowed in thought.

“We’re good with eating on the floor!” Michael waved to her, catching onto her troubles. 

She smiles back at him, “You guys should take the table. You’re guests!”

Mikey turns around to set the bowls of gumbo on the table before gasping. In his surprise at the newcomers, his trembling hands nearly drop all the food. Leonardo is quick to react, taking them from Mikey and setting them down.

“Oh me gosh! More turtles!” Mikey claps his hands together repeatedly, bouncing on his tippy toes.

He beelines for Michaelangelo, putting out a hand. “Hiya! I’m Michaelangelo, but Mikey is fine.”

Michaelangelo chuckles softly, shaking his counterpart's hand, “I’m… also Michaelangelo.”

“Oh that’s so cool! Do you like the colour orange?” A nod. “Skating?” Nod. “Cooking?” Nod. “Can you do this?” Mikey puts his hands parallel to his chest, closing his eyes with a focused smile.

Junior had sat down on the floor, but jumped up and slapped Mikey’s hands down at the slightest orange spark. Mikey looks up at Junior with wide, startled eyes.

“Michaelangelo,” Casey starts, his lip trembling, “Don’t go doing that! One time was enough.” Twice, his mind suggested.

Mikey’s mind flashed to what Casey had said; what had happened to Mikey in the future. The turtle grimaces, nodding. 

“Raph?” Casey asked the turtle entering the room to get his attention. Junior motioned his head towards Donnie’s lab.

Raph nodded softly, looking at Mikey. “You can go too. I’ll stay down here with the girls.”

Mikey gave a grateful nod, as Casey grabbed his and Mikey’s bowls. Before they left, Casey felt the counterpart's eyes sinking into his skin. He didn’t want to know what they were thinking. He’d really rather they would just ignore him.

They reach Donnie’s lab shortly, Mikey knocking on the solid metal door. Sounds of Leon and Donnie arguing quickly stops as Donnie gives to “good to come in”.

“Junior! Miguel!” Leo sat on his cot. From Donnie’s harsh glance at his twin, Casey could guess Leo was being as bad a patient as ever. “Come to hang out with your favourite brother?”

Mikey beams, his previous look of though quickly masked. Junior led the two of them to a couple of beanbags set up. One was already occupied by the foreign Donatello.

Who actually looks over at the two newcomers with a pleading expression. “All they do is argue about who needs to eat or sleep!” He hush-yelled, “How can you stand them?!”

Mikey chuckles nervously, “Usually, we let them go at it until either one resides. Ever since the incident, though…”

Junior takes a bite of his food before turning towards Donatello. “Actually, how did you guys get here? I thought you’d be working with our Donnie to get back?”

“We were supposed to be, but as soon as they received food, they both wanted the other to eat while being a hypocrite at the same time.” Mikey nods, shoving his face with his own creation. Junior, meanwhile, looks at the bickering twins with eyebrows raised and eyes foggy. 

When Leonardo had lost his arm, Casey was young. Real young. Leo had come home from a mission, carried by Casey’s mother, paler than the full moon. Donatello had to drug Leonardo half the time for the blue masked turtle to get any bed rest. He was constantly insisting that he return to missions.

The two twins mirrored this future ever since the Kraang. Their constant bickering and orders for self-care often filled the air. It had been a little over a month, and they still couldn’t stop their rough and tumble ways to get the other to rest.

The older Donatello looked on with a similar expression to Casey’s; as if he recognised the scene, as well. For all Junior knew, he could’ve. While their Leonardo seemed more quiet and reserved, it wasn’t impossible that a similar argument had happened in their world. An argument of self care. 

From the immense scarring on these turtles, Casey assumed they’d healed time and time again from particularly gruesome fights. He hoped his young masters wouldn’t have to live like that.

“As for how we got here? I was fiddling with a Kraang portal. They’d been acting up again and I thought I could track them down.”

Casey should’ve known even the quietest whisper of the villain would catch Leo’s attention.

“Kraang?! How did you… get…” Leonardo almost dropped the bowl he started to eat from, his eyes wide and smile dropped.

“How did you get their tech.” Donnie demands, less than a question. 

“Like I get most things; found it in a scrapyard.”

“No matter,” Leo shares a grimace with his twin, and although they look different, their eyes share a certain darkness. “You need to get back to your world and destroy that portal. If it leads here…”

“I agree with Leon. I’ll get you guys back as soon as possible,” Donnie nodded, putting down a full bowl of food and wheeling over to his desk. He doesn’t hesitate the log in and break into a process Casey knew you couldn’t break him from.

“Donnie… your food?” Mikey offered into the air, but when he just got a dismissive grunt back, he retreated his attempts at conversation.

Donatello caught Casey’s eye, a look of “did I do something wrong?” sent as a plea. Junior couldn’t find his words, picking up his bowl and mushing the food around.

Donatello cleared his throat, standing up, “Well… I’ll take your dishes to the kitchen. Besides, I’d like to grab supper myself.”

He doesn’t receive any response from the twins, but Mikey nods and stands up with him. Junior knows when he’s lost a battle.

“I’m going to go settle and try to sleep. You two got everything?” He was actually pretty exhausted. An emotional roller coaster of a day, that’s for sure. Once Mikey gave him the good-to-go, Junior stood. The two turtles left the room first, and with enough distance between them, Junior headed to Leo’s room, which didn’t get much use from the bed resting slider.

Aside from the freshly made bed and washed sheets, everything lay exactly where it had been before the invasion. But it still looked far more childish than his future master’s bedroom. It wasn’t bad, as it gave off a warm, lived in vibe without being atrociously messy. 

So Casey snuggled into the sheets which smelt of lavender detergent, and welcomed night. After a few hours of restless tossing and turning, that is.

Chapter Text

Casey woke up feeling like shit. The very moment he opened his eyes, he had a headache comparable to a hangover migraine. He knew all the medicine was with Donnie at the moment, so he crawled out of Leo’s bed and stumbled down the hall.

He didn’t question the fact there were two turtles with purple bandanas in the lab, he wasn’t in the mood to. Instead, he made his way over to the pile of first aid materials, scrambling for pain relievers. 

“If it’s that bad—“ Donnie’s voice rang through his head, “—you better take the actual migraine relief, not the ibuprofen.”

Junior wouldn't question Donnie’s knowledge on migraines, he often had crippling pain problems when either caffeine deprived or overworked. Or both. 

So, Casey dug for the off brand Excedrin instead. Leo, who was apparently awake, handed the kid a bottle of water, wincing when Junior took the horse pills dry.

“Good morning to you too, Junior,” Donnie sighed, reaching over to dim the lights. Junior knew he wasn’t a morning person, so it surprised him to see the young master up so early.

“Did you sleep?” Junior cringed at his dry throat. He knew he cried in his sleep sometimes. Maybe that’s why his head hurt so badly today. 

Donnie scoffs, as if it was a ridiculous query. And it was, if you knew the turtle. Leo follows suit in the scoffing, crossing his arms and glaring at his twin.

“I slept more than him,” Leo huffs, “And you know I’m an insomniac, kid.”

Junior spares a concerned look at the unfazed turtle before furrowing his brows at the double figure. It hurt to think, but slowly, he recollected yesterday. 

“Hello, Donatello.”

Donnie groans, “Yes, I’ve already said— Oh. You meant the other me.”

The slightly smaller turtle laughs softly, his wide smile showing off a tooth gap. Casey felt his own with his tongue, beaming at the sight. 

“Good morning, Casey. Sleep well?”

His smile fell. 

“Oh. I’m sorry. Have you had breakfast yet? Everyone is just having cereal or whatever.”

Casey nods, sparing one last look at the obviously sleepless twins before leaving the lab. 

His head actually started to feel better, although his immune system whined at the medicine without food. He should probably eat.

Raphael groaned as Junior entered the kitchen, Leonardo on the bar stool next to him. If he recalled correctly, Leonardo hadn’t spoken much since their introductions, and Raphael was a little snappy for a box turtle. 

“‘Morning?” Junior offered, as softly as a war-rung soldier could.

Leonardo returned his nervous smile, nodding shortly. “Good morning, Casey.”

He must have lit up a bit at the response, maybe more than he should’ve because Raphael quickly exaggerated an eye roll. He dropped his spoon to his ceramic bowl, and Casey held back a whine at the sharp sound.

But he must’ve winced even slightly as Leonardo’s gaze softens. 

“How did you sleep?” The youngest asks, trying to make a bowl of cereal but fuddling with the milk’s cap.

“Pretty alright. At least, some of us did. How about you, Casey?” Leonardo maintained eye contact, although it unsettled Junior. He wasn’t used to such friendly socialization with such harsh— or maybe it was polite?— eye contact. The turtles weren’t huge on that part.

And sure, maybe it was the migraine, but that question was grinding his mind in an icky way. “Okay. As good as is normal.”

Raphael and Leonardo visibly tensed as Raph entered, an empty cup in hand. 

“Good morning, Casey,” Raph greeted with a quiet tone. He must’ve recognised the migraine as quickly as Donnie and Leo had.

Casey lets out a breath of relief. A familiar face, even if a little less scarred than the future.

“Good morning, Raph. What’s on the schedule today?”

“For you, resting. I heard you last night.”

Leonardo and Raphael glanced at each other, curiously. 

“Shit— sorry. Crap. I’m sorry if I kept you awake, Raph.” Casey twirled a plastic spoon in his cereal, a look that absolutely tore at Raph’s heart.

“Don’t worry about it, Junior. And I won’t tell Cass if you promise to talk to Mikey about the nightmares,” Raph quickly washed his cup, before sitting next to Casey, opposite side to the dimension hoppers. 

“Got it. How about you, sir? Any… unpleasantries?”

Raph chuckled lightly, his eyes moving from Casey to the counter. “You know it, kid. I bet I slept better than Leo, though.”

“Of course you did. And Donnie. Master Donatello didn’t get any rest last night, I can only imagine the caffeine hangover he’ll have when they do.”

“They’ll sleep. If I have to cuddle-pile them and Leon, so be it.”

Casey let out a pleased huff of air, knowing the twins were in the safe, caring arms of their big brother. 

When he looked up from the conversation and his breakfast, he found the other turtles nowhere. They must’ve left while he was talking.

Raph smiled gently, ruffling Casey’s hair before heading out of the kitchen. Junior took a look at his phone, wincing at the missed messages. April had gone home late last night and was hanging out with her girlfriends; Sunita and Cassandra. 

That would explain their absence.

=====

Leo hated bed rest more than anything. If there’s anything the blue clad turtle could not stand, it was sitting still. But apparently! That’s what he had to do! 

Donnie was no medic. Shell, he couldn’t get a papercut without gagging. Somehow, though, he, time and time again, convinced the one and only Leonardo Hamato to stay down.

Well, not the one and only anymore. 

Leo couldn’t help but feel his head reel at the thought as the alternate him and Raph walked in. Casey had mentioned using full names on the imposters, and Leo couldn’t think of a better solution to the confusing situation.

“Good morning. I presume you and our Donnie have made progress?” Leo winced at the calm, collected voice Leonardo put on. He couldn’t be serious, right? That’s his alternate?

“I hope so!” Donatello huffed from his bean bag, “This Donnie is so stingy with his work, I’m not even allowed to help.”

“You didn’t even know what mystics were. Or ninpō.” Donnie defended himself, not glancing away from the screen. 

“Well, progress or no?” Raphael scoffed at the bickering, hoping for a straight answer. 

“Sigh, maybe. If Leo was better, we could run tests on his portals. Or if Mikey didn’t almost…” Donnie breathed roughly. “Yeah. No mystics right now. So, I’m stuck working with your… Kraang code that your Donnie informed me on. It’s not as advanced as I thought it would be.”

Leo could feel the not-so-subtle eyes of this Leonardo as he flinched. He just replied to the look with a plastered-on smile.

Leonardo’s non-existent brows furrowed momentarily before going back to neutral. 

“Very well. As long as progress is being made…” Leonardo examined the room further, lifting a lip in disappointment. “You… drink coffee?”

“It’s a habit none of us can break him from,” Leo chipped in, smiling widely. “We try our best but brother dearest avoids sleep like death.”

“At least one of us avoids death,” Donatello muttered quickly and bitterly, but just loud enough for everyone else to catch.

Raphael looks at the situation curiously, before leaning to whisper into Leonardo’s ear. Leonardo sparked brightly at whatever he’d said, nodding with a smile. 

A smile Leo did not trust as it fell on him. 

“So, fearless here has what we like to call healing hands. It’s not an all-fixing cure but it may help your Leo in his… state. And, Donnie, while it’s on my mind; what pronouns do you use?”

Donnie stopped his work, stunned by the question and pondering the new information.

“I use any. But… you can help Leon?” 

Leo wanted to cry at his twin’s tone; so small and full of hope, as if Leo was dying. He wasn’t, by the way, they had brought him from near death weeks ago.

“Only if he lets me.”

Now Leo felt small as everyone in the room looked at him. He decided the cot he sat in was more interesting, picking lint off the sheets. 

“Does it hurt?”

Leonardo’s eyes widened at the question, before regaining composure. “Not at all. I've heard it feels like the warm sun is running through you. What hurts the most right now?”

“My left side or my chest. It’s a mix of both.”

“What did that to you?” Raphael crossed his arms, watching as his older brother worked on focusing. 

Leonardo scoffed at his brother, curling his upper lip. “He needs to be relaxed, Raphael. You aren’t helping him.”

And maybe Leo had tensed. He let out a breath he wasn’t aware he was holding, letting his shoulders fall and jaw slacken. Leo closed his eyes in anticipation, while understanding the simile his counterpart used before. His chest loosened as what felt like the summer sun enveloped his lungs. He inhaled the first painless puff of air in months.

But it ended as quickly as it had begun. Leo opened his eyes to see Leonardo a little sweaty and dizzy. A lump formed in his throat. Maybe the counterparts were genuinely good if they were exhausting themselves over their younger versions.

So he pushed away the thoughts of them working with the Kraang and smiled at Leonardo.

“Thank you. I feel better.” Because he really did. For the first time in so long, he could breathe.

“I’m sorry I can’t do any more. I haven’t dealt with such big injuries in a while,” Leonardo sighed, standing and returning to his brother’s side.

“May I ask again?” Raphael whispered as if on eggshells. 

Donnie groaned, turning back to his code for a distraction. “May as well let you in the loop. It was the Kraang. They invaded New York a few weeks back. Some… less than pleasant events transpired, with Raphael getting brain controlled and Mikey nearly killing himself to save Leon who was trying to kill himself.”

“I wasn’t trying to! What else should I have done?”

“I don’t know, Leo! I didn’t know then and I don’t think I ever will.” 

Leo cringed at that. Donnie hated not knowing things. He never admitted to when he did. 

The slider was about to shoot out a retort, but the softshell’s eyes widened and he looked over at Leo in a panic. A panic filled with confusion.

Leo, although his chest was healed, choked on his breath. “Donnie! Not now.”

Leonardo caught Leo who jumped out of bed, walking on injured legs with no thought of crutches. 

Donatello frowned. Donnie’s legs and arms trembled with ferocity, his eyes distant. “He’s having a seizure.”

“I know that, Sherlock!” Leo bit, maybe harder than he should’ve. 

Leo wrestled weakly out of Leonardo’s grip, crossing the short distance to his brother’s side. 

“Shelldon! Start counting!”

Leonardo and Raphael stepped away as a machine that had been motionless on the desk rose into the air, a beep echoing through the room. 

It didn’t take long for the seizure to end. It may have felt like an eternity, but Shelldon counted three minutes. 

Once Donnie stopped shaking and his eyes slowly lost the glazed look, he let out a dry whine. 

“Get him water.” Leo commanded the counterparts. Raphael nodded sharply, running out of the room.

“They’re getting longer,” the purple drone cried, its robotic voice a little too human.

“Add it to the list of problems on our list,” Leo sighed, accepting the cup Raphael raced in with.

Donnie took it gratefully, wincing at the abrupt cold liquid. “Log,” he glanced to where Shelldon hovered.

Shelldon opened a chart on Donnie’s computer screen, showing a steadily rising graph.

“Great,” Donnie drawled, covering his face.

Donatello read it quickly before wincing, himself. “Increased length and frequency.”

“Did… Did he always have these?” Raphael looked, for the first time Leo’s seen, genuinely worried.

Leon shook his head, a hand still resting on his exhausted brother. “No. Just another side effect of the terrible disease that is the Kraang.”

“Those brain fucks didn’t do this, I did.”

“Don’t defend them! And! You wouldn’t have stuck your nervous system in an organic ship had the brain fucks not come around to begin with.”

Donatello shivered, gagging a little at the thought of controlling an organic ship. It sounded cool, but envisioning it made him sick. Plus, he can only assume what information a Kraang ship would hold. 

“Good to know Vomittello runs in all dimensions,” Leo joked, his voice back to being light and airy.

“Sorry, that just sounds so… gross!” Donatello swallowed the bile in his throat, looking at an amused audience. 

“It was. What…” Donnie assured as he sipped on the water further. “What are the Kraang like in your dimension?”

Leonardo looked at the ground, before taking up a second beanbag with a heavy sigh. “I don’t think they’re anything like yours. A couple of robots with a hivemind and high level technology, but not nearly as violent.”

“That’s more Shred’s thing,” Raphael sat next to Leonardo, arms still crossed as if he needed the extra protection.

Leo chuckled, “I’m glad all Shredder’s are the same; violent and ruthless.”

Donatello looked over at his brothers before clearing his throat. “Did your Shredder take anyone from you?”

And Leo wasn’t expecting such an upfront question. They’d only know each other for two days and… well, they phrased it like they lost someone too. Maybe…

“Karai. Our grandmother. Who did you lose?” 

Leonardo must’ve thought the younger turtles weren’t observant, as his expressions flashes rapidly before softening to neutral. But Leo was assigned the leader for a reason.

“Master Splinter,” Donatello filled in for his leader, obvious concern on his face. A concern Leo understood well. “Shredder killed Master Splinter around two years ago.”

“Oh,” Donnie inhaled sharply, “I’m sorry, I can’t imagine losing Dad.”

“Where has he been?” Raphael looked at Leo, something sharp in his questioning gaze. “I haven’t seen your Splinter the whole time we’ve been here.”

“He tries his best,” Leo shot Donnie a warning, “He does! He really does. He isn’t the most present father, but I saw how he looked at Leo when brother dearest was in a comatose state. He does care.”

“Draxum is more present than Dad, Dee.”

“Maybe so! But at least one of them didn’t throw you off a roof!”

Leo shrugged, content with the argument being over.

“Who’s Draxum?” Raphael cocked an eyebrow.

“You have the Kraang and the Shredder, but not Draxum? Who created mutagan in your world?” Donnie opened his files on his computer, pulling up data on Draxum. There was a terribly taken photo from when he still had armour.

“The Kraang did. This Draxum guy made mutants instead of the Kraang?” Donatello stood from his beanbag, walking over to the computer. “We don’t have him in our universe.”

Donnie raised a sharpie eyebrow, examining the counterparts as if they could be lying. It took him less than a second to turn back to his computer and continue typing.

“You’re just going to act like you didn’t have a seizure less than five minutes ago?” Raphael scoffed, leaning back in the large red bean bag.

“Shit happens,” Donnie shrugged, not a hint of caring in his tone.

Leo laughs airily, leaning back into the cot. “He’s just dazed. The panic will hit him later. It usually does.”

“Jeez, Leon, thanks for sharing my emotions with the class.”

“Someone has to,” Leo grins. 

Raphael and Leonardo stand, beckoning Donatello to join them. The three of them walk out of the room quietly, not disturbing Donnie heavily at work. Leo watched them, but stuck with his twin. They couldn’t be that troublesome, surely. 

Surely. 

Chapter Text

Leonardo was more of a leader than a brother, always sticking to schedules and enforcing peace among his crew. This does not mean he doesn’t love and observe his brothers. While near no one had seen his baby brother since they’d arrived, Leonardo had more than a gut feeling the Michaels were together.

As soon as the younger Mikey had come back from Donnie’s lab on the first day, Leonardo’s Michaelangelo had nearly begged to hang out and get away from the awkward dinner. 

Leonardo did want his brothers to have fun, sure, but they couldn’t soften up around these kids. Seeing Raphael, his toughest sibling, melt at how hurt their Leo was was odd. So Leonardo gathered his brothers with intent to patrol. Donatello had objected because of their limited knowledge, but Michaelangelo had insisted Mikey told him practically everything.

Now, the brothers bounce from rooftop to rooftop, eyes squinted at the bright city. Michelangelo had offered some explanation of this universe’s villains, and they mostly seemed harmless.

A worm mutant that could regenerate? A hippo magician? Their Foot Clan leaders used origami to fight! Donatello used origami to relax. So far, the only real threat Leonardo could sense in this world was their Kraang.

“And then there’s this spider yokai! She runs a large underground fighting arena. She supposedly used the Shredder to fight us.”

“I keep hearing that word; yokai. What is the difference between that and mutants?” Raphael shot Michael a look, but before the youngest could answer, Donatello beamed.

“Yokai are natural mutants. Like those Japanese stories Master used to tell us about people who had been born as mythical creatures. Apparently all of that and magic are real here. There’s this huge city underneath New York full of these yokai.”

Michelangelo huffed, but not from running. “Yeah. That.”

“So there’s no physical difference between mutants and yokai? One was just… born that way?”

“Yeah!” Michael smiled, “So mutants can walk around the underground-city-thing if they want.”

Raphael stopped on a roof, turning towards his little brother. “Lucky them!” 

Leonardo stopped beside him, grabbing granola bars from a pouch, handing them out. “Oh, don’t be so bitter. At least this world doesn’t need our help or at least these turtles don’t shout turtle power every two seconds.”

Raphael tore his granola wrapper away, obviously using it to vent frustration, “I guess. But I’m not going to relax here.”

“I’m not asking you to.”

“You saw their Raph! Dude was just a fucking teddy bear wrapped in a hard shell.”

“Like you aren’t a softie,” Michelangelo snickered, talking through his food.

Raph punched his brother lightly on the shoulder. 

Donatello shoved his plastic wrapper in a rubbish bin on the roof, dusting his hands. “Raph does have a point. This is the calmest and most diverse universe we’ve been to.”

“Ayy! If genius agrees with me, y’know I’m right.”

Leonardo followed Donatello’s example, shaking his head. “But you all saw their injuries. I wouldn’t underestimate the threats of this world.”

“At least they have their dad.”

“Raph!” Michael reprimanded, smacking his brother upside the head. 

Leonardo opened his mouth to say more before hushing them. The sound of a door slamming beneath them caught their attention. The ninjas crouched, shifting over to the sound slowly.

A beefy pig mutant with a disgusting apron brushed his hands against each other. The building he just came from must’ve been some sort of restaurant because the air smelled delicious. Or maybe that was the pig?

The mutant lifted his snout into the air, sniffing rather aggressively. 

“I heard yer shouting little turtles! Come out and play! I could go for exotic softshell stew,” He cackled walking further into the alley. 

Donatello winced, looking at his brothers as Michaelangelo paled. 

“Oh yeah… I may have forgotten to mention the guy who tried to eat their Donnie…” 

“Mikey!” Raphael whisper-yelled, refraining from smacking his brother. Leonardo sighed, examining the area. The roof they were on was accessible from three ways: the stairs from inside, a fire escape on the side, and the roof-hopping the brothers had done.

Surely they could just roof hop away? Leonardo may be itching to fight, but he knew nothing about this guy.

Raphael did not share the sentiment. After seemingly staying still long enough, he unsheathed his sais from his belt and slid down the fire escape. Donatello twirled his staff once or twice before following. Michelangelo was the only one to stay back with a concerned Leonardo.

Leonardo let out a begrudged sigh, motioning for his brother to move forward. 

The pig had seemed distracted, brushing two meat cleavers against each other. Obviously, though, he was an enemy to ninjas, and a sharp sensed pig. He turned around sharply, flinging one of the cleavers in Raphael’s direction. It scraped Raphael’s cheek.

“You guys look a little err… odd,” the mutant halted, an eyebrow raised. “Well. Turtle is turtle, even if a little less exotic.”

Donatello spun his staff as he slid down the fire escape, twirling it under the large mutant’s feet. The pig stumbled into the alley’s wall before catching a sword to his throat.

Leonardo pulled his sword away at the fear shimmering in the mutant's eyes. 

“Huh… easy,” Raphael boasted, before being shoved to the ground by another identical pig mutant. 

“You turtles have gotten cocky!” The second pig laughed, grinning at Raphael squirming under him. 

“Duplicates?” Donatello gasped, back into a fighting stance.

“Forgot me so easily even--”

The pig was cut short by a hard nunchuck to his head. He backed off easily, rubbing his head with an offended look.

“You don’t just cut a guy off!” He shrieked, fusing together with the other him and becoming suddenly much larger.

Michelangelo picked up Raphael, still in offence, swinging his ‘chucks around. “You were suffocating my bro with your fatass!”

“Mikey!” Leonardo gasped. Obviously, the enemy mutant wasn’t used to the language either as he inhaled, offended.

“I-- well--!”

Raphael let out a loud chuffle, “You should see your face!”

“Now you're asking for it, turtles!” He growled, pulling another cleaver from… somewhere and brandishing it. 

Leonardo was surprised to find he put up an actual fight, nearly chopping off Michael’s arm at one point. This time, he wasn’t aiming to stun and capture, he was aiming to kill . Raphael had started teasing the mutant at first, but, as the fight ensued, his face fell into a serious tone.

Michelangelo was pinned to the ground one second and thrown against the wall the next. The smallest turtle gasped in air, pressing something on his wrist, reminiscent of a watch. Raphael jumped in front of the next punch, pushing against the large mutant’s force with actual effort. Donatello had climbed the fire escape, jumping down and hitting the pig’s head with his staff. 

It was enough of a blow to throw him off. As he stumbled, Raphael pushed him fully to the ground, picking up Michaelangelo who’d been embedded into the bricks. Leonardo swung his swords methodically to back the mutant away from her brothers; her kin.

When did she-- he start thinking of himself as a “her”? He’d have to think about that later, but for now, he needed to protect his family. 

As he backed the pig into the back of the alley, a loud “cowabunga” rang through the air. A blur of orange rang through the air and the mutant they’d been fighting for so long was in fire-laced chains.

“Wring it in there, Meat Sweats!” The younger Mikey laughed. He was about to let out another quip before he saw his own counterpart. “Shit! Is the other me okay?!”

“Other-- Turtle! What is happening?!” 

“You’re not on a need-to-know basis dear Robert. However, I must ask about that exotic smell in the air! Is that lamb?”

“Meat Sweats” glowed like the sun for a few seconds, which Leonardo could hardly differentiate from the chain's own glow. 

“Amazing senses as always, little turtle! I thought a turtle stew would make for a good appetiser but… let’s rain check that, huh?”

Mikey sighed, undoing his mystic weapon while also spinning Meat Sweats in circles. “Fine. Check back in like three weeks, and then me and my bros will return to kicking your butt, got it? We’re a little preoccupied right now.”

As the pig stumbled back to his feet, he let out a frantic nod, heading back into the building. In seconds, Mikey turned to check over the others.

“Big me! Are you okay? Raphael! Is that a cut? Donatello! Your staff is cracked! What were you guys doing?!” 

Leonardo laughed lightly, patting Mikey on the head to keep him still. “Slow down! Don’t worry about us.”

“How did you know where we were?” Donatello stretches, shoving his staff back in it’s resting place.

“Oh! Other-me sent out a distress signal a bit ago. I just got pinged again on my way over here, so I hurried my little tail as quick as I could go!”

Donatello looks curiously over to his youngest brother then back to the vibrant Mikey with a hum. “So… you were tracking us.”

Mikey nods quickly, bringing out a first aid kit from somewhere inside his shell. He was about to clean Raphael’s cut before being swatted away.

“Let me help!” Mikey demands, ready to make the wound cleaning as painful as possible with any further refusal. 

Raphael was about to push him away before Leonardo and Donatello gave him a glare.

“Who knows what Meat Sweats’ cleavers touched last. Could’ve been raw chicken or garbage silverfish again!”

“Garbage… silverfish?” Raphael raises an eyebrow as Mikey smiles, putting a Disney bandaid on his cheek. Michelangelo holds in a snicker.

“Oh yeah. Can’t believe you guys were struggling against him, though. He must’ve absorbed something powerful.”

“I have… so many questions about this guy.”

=====

Mikey wrapped an ice pack in paper towels, tossing it over to Michaelangelo who caught it clumsily. Michelangelo held it to his head as the lecture continued. 

They had found out just a few minutes after entering the lair that this world’s Raph was the oldest and such a mother hen .

“I can’t believe you guys! I am this close--” he held a hand up with fingers barely not touching, “--to telling Dad!”

Raphael snorted. 

“Got something to say, little me?” Raph growled with his throat, teeth bared.

“Oh please do tell your father . I bet he’s so strict and threatening .”

Mikey slapped a hand over his mouth, holding in a laugh.

“Angelo. Father. Now.”

“Yes, Raphie!” Mikey snickered as he sped out of the kitchen.

Leonardo looked ready to bolt as Mikey returned.

“Red, what is this all about? I heard ‘other us did bad’. What is ‘other’...” Splinter opened his squinted eyes, tail unfolding. “This is no joke?”

Raphael let out a wet laugh, as if he couldn’t decide whether to cry over or mock the rat. “ You’re their master?”

Michelangelo wanted to shrink into his shell as this Splinter looked each turtle up and down.

“You’re my sons from another world, I had presumed other me would’ve taught you boys some manners.”

Leonardo’s breath caught in his throat and he felt like drowning. He would rather be in the farmhouse  than in this room right now. Donatello bowed his head in shame, fists clenched. Michelangelo's eyes shone with unshed tears.

“Sorry, sir. I apologise for Raphael’s behaviour. We do not mean to be burdens--”

“Don’t apologise, big blue. I should’ve known, in some world, young red had acted young forever.”

“You don’t use your sons’ names? And you call us disrespectful?”

“Correction. I call you disrespectful. I have nothing to say about your brothers. As for my sons, they know I care and I will use their names when the time calls.”

“Oh yeah?! As if we didn’t watch your sons fight over if you actually loved them earlier.”

Splinter’s eyes widened. “Donatello?”

Donatello’s lip trembled. Even if his voice was different, this was still a Splinter. A Splinter that had said his name with such concern and care. 

Mikey frowned at the otherworldly turtles, leaning down to say something to his father.

Splinter frowned with him, shaking his head. “I am so sorry, boys. I did not… I will refrain from being around, if that will help you heal?”

“We don’t need your--!”

“Don’t worry about that, sensei. I think you should be around a little more for your own sons’ sake, though,” Leonardo interrupted, a sharp glare drilling into his red-masked brother.

Splinter nodded sharply, before heading upstairs. Michelangelo assumed he’d be visiting the twins in purple and blue. 

“Are you guys okay?” Raph looked like he was going to cry. Why would he cry?

Michelangelo put on a smile, deepening Raph’s frown. “Yeah. You didn’t know, big guy.”

Raph just looked at all of them with a tight line for his mouth, as if he might burst with the slightest breath. 

“Let’s get you to bed, Raph,” Mikey offered, putting a hand on his big brother’s shell. 

As the younger turtles exited the room, Michaelangelo’s smile dropped in seconds, and so did the tears everyone had been holding. Raphael tried not to follow suit, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t hate himself for bickering with Splinter.