Archive of Our Own ^beta

Healing potions might not have been on the table anymore thanks to this bullshit world not having access to the goddamn Nether dimension, but at least the drugs were pretty effective at numbing Tommy's pain.

It had only been an hour or so tops since being rescued from the Battle Nexus and subsequently hit with the bedrest order, courtesy of Leo. Not that Tommy would have been willing to make the jump down from his medbay cot regardless.

He had a fractured rib, and while he was usually plenty impulsive, he wasn't stupid. Even from such a small height, that kind of impact would be hell on Tommy’s current injuries. No amount of wicked sick drugs would change that.

Tommy looked over at Leo, sitting on a chair beside his cot and scrolling through his phone with Phil's injured crow half asleep in his lap.

It was just the three of them at the moment. Mikey left a while ago to cook lunch whereas Raph had dipped from the medbay only a few minutes prior with a much more nebulous ‘be right back’ as his only excuse.

Tommy shuffled closer to the edge of his cot, keeping the ice pack pressed against ribs as he moved even though most of the soothing chill had already gone away, “What are you doing?” He asked, struggling to crane his neck far enough to see Leo’s phone screen without hurting anything.

Leo hummed a short acknowledgement before tilting his phone so that Tommy could see it better, “Dogs.”

And sure enough, the screen showed off a photo of several puppies sleeping in a cushioned basket. For aesthetics probably.

“Oh,” Tommy mumbled, resting his chin on his front paws and watching as Leo resumed his idle scrolling through a collection of different dog pictures. 

Tommy waited for a few silent moments of looking at dogs to speak up again, "Why?"

A shrug, "Eh, just felt like I could use some wholesomeness after today, y'know?" Leo explained.

Understandable. Tommy was actively trying not to think about the past twenty-four hours.

Not the easiest thing to do when his currently tiny body was littered with painful reminders.

A dog with sleek brown fur drifted onto the screen. Big brown eyes sent a jolt through Tommy's heart.

He didn't realize just how visible of a reaction he'd had until the phone screen went dark and Leo was frowning worriedly.

"Hey, everything alright?"

Tommy didn't look at him, staring blankly at the dark screen. An image of Dog Boy's terror-filled eyes and the frantic words he'd spat back at Tommy with vitriol still burning in his mind.

"Tommy?" Leo leaned closer, resting his hand nearby Tommy on the cot.

It was enough to pull Tommy from the memory, if only by a small margin.

Tommy stared resolutely down at his stupid little paws, "I'm fine. I just… Could we look at something else?" He asked quietly.

"Uh… Yeah. Yeah, of course." Leo angled his phone away from Tommy, tapping at the screen. 

A few seconds later, Leo brought his phone up and tilted it sideways, "Wanna see some awesome skateboard tricks?" He asked with an excited lilt to his voice.

Even if Tommy didn't want to watch skateboard tricks, how could he say no to that?

Tommy had been about to drop a resounding yes when he was suddenly rendered completely distracted by the sound of Raph's distinct heavy footsteps.

Tommy turned his attention to the medbay doors seconds before they opened up. 

In came Raph, plush bears and soft blankets piled high in his arms.

Raph waddled carefully over to the cot and dumped everything onto the unused half of the bed, "I couldn't decide which bear to bring, so I just grabbed all of them- and the extra blankets are for just in case you get cold. And also so that you can have something more cushiony to lay on, that old thing isn't exactly the most comfortable," he sympathized.

If not for the fractured rib, Tommy would have immediately scampered over to take his pick of blankets and plushies.

As it were, though, he would have to settle for making insistent grabby hands at the pile of stuff.

Raph compliantly picked the stuffed bears out from the pile and brought them closer, "This one's Dr. Huggenstein-" he waved one of the bears around before setting it back down, "-this is Captain Snuggles-" he repeated the earlier motion with the second bear, "-and this one's Cheech!" He introduced all three bear plushies with a bright smile on his face.

They all looked well loved, the bear introduced as Captain Snuggles even had a line of backstitching across the side where a tear in the fabric must have been, "Give," Tommy demanded, none too politely. 

Raph didn't seem to mind all too much, happily obliging.

Leo did not share that opinion. He stuck his arm out to stop Raph from handing over the plushies, "Hey, woah. Where are your manners, mister? Just because you're injured, doesn't mean you get to go all bossy pants on everyone," he admonished, brows climbing all the way up on his forehead.

Tommy sent Leo a reproachful scowl, tail twitching once, "I just went through a trau-ma-tic event, Leo. Leo I was just traumatized. I am going to be stuck as a tiny puntable raccoon for six weeks. And you know what? Raccoons don't need manners, and neither do I," he insisted before promptly making grabby hands at Raph again, "Raaaph, Leo's bullying me. He's bullying me, Raph. He is implying that I need to say things like please and thank you, and I do not appreciate it. Telling me to use manners is against my boundaries." Tommy pouted deeply, using drooping ears and big eyes to pander to Raph's soft side.

Hook, line, and sinker, baby.

Raph's expression melted near instantly, "Aww, how could I say no to that widdle face? Here you go, Tommy, pick whichever one you want to keep you company," he cooed in a voice that edged on baby talk.

He knocked the barrier that was Leo's arm out of the way and put all the plushies at a much more convenient stubby arm's reach away from Tommy.

Self satisfaction grew in Tommy's chest, barely holding back the urge to send a smug grin Leo's way as he reached out to check the texture on the bears.

Ignoring a disapproving mutter from Leo, Tommy planted his palms on Cheech, the closest plushy.

He wasn't sure if he'd ever get used to the amount of detail his palms were able to pick up on now. It was weird at best, and horribly overwhelming at worst.

At least the teddy bears all shared the same inoffensive soft texture that was smooth when rubbed one way and wonky when rubbed the other. Classic plushy stuff.

Still, one stood out from all the rest as the superior plush.

"I want this one," Tommy declared, dragging Captain Snuggles closer and wrapping his arms around the neck.

He liked the way the embroidery thread used to mend whatever damage had been caused to it in the past felt against his paw pads. 

Raph picked up the two remaining bears and held them under his arm, "Glad you like him. And hey, maybe, if you want to, we could stop by Teddybear Town later to pick out a bear of your own- you know, after you're all healed up, of course," he offered as he arranged the blankets he'd brought around Tommy like a big cozy nest.

Tommy narrowed his eyes suspiciously at Raph, "You had better not be getting all broody on me." Did turtles even get broody?

His accusation was met with sputtering from both turtles, though it was mostly just laughing on Leo’s part.

Raph gawked at him, "I'm not bein' broody, I'm trying to make sure you're comfortable. Because you're injured." He emphasized this statement by gesturing to the entirety of Tommy.

But Tommy wasn't so easily convinced, "Yeah, yeah, you can't fool me, Raph. Wilbur's told me about this shit. Apparently Phil used to do this kinda thing all the time when he was younger. Got all paternal and cringe. I think you're aging, Raph. You are aging and then we will have to put you in the home. So sad." Tommy shook his head mournfully.

"What? No, I'm not aging. Age doesn't work like that- I- I think? No, I know. Wait a second- you're older than I am! You're eighteen! If anyone's going to a retirement home, it's you!" Raph exclaimed with a dramatic and accusatory point of his finger.

Tommy gasped in offense, wincing a bit from the sharp pain it sent through his chest, but carrying on regardless, "Fuck, you emanate so much goddamn wisdom that I keep forgetting you're younger than me. That's so odd, I can't believe I'm older than everyone but Splinter." He scrunched up his face at that. 

Leo poked his cheek, "Y'know, I kind of forgot you were eighteen. No offense, but you act way younger. Doesn't help that Mikey's decided to be your older brother," he reasoned before traitorously squishing Tommy's cheeks between his thumb and fingers.

Seriously, why did he keep doing that?

Tommy scowled at the prick, "I am not childish. Name one time I've acted younger than I am, you bitch."

Leo's brows shot straight up, "Uh, literally twenty seconds ago, you said 'give' when Raph showed up with his teddy bears. What part of that isn't childish?" He retorted.

"I'll bite you." Tommy gnashed his teeth threateningly.

His intimidation tactics were met with a hand ruffling the fur on his forehead.

Leo yanked his hand away with a quiet snicker when Tommy immediately attempted to nip at his fingers.

"Hey, no shame in it, man. I get it, you're used to being the youngest, right?" Leo's tone was just shy of teasing.

Raph nodded, “Yeah, and I don’t mind being your older brother too if you want. Guess you could say it’s what I’m used to.” Maybe it was supposed to feel reassuring, but it mostly felt like Tommy was being coddled.

Which was dumb and stupid because he literally ripped a guy’s throat out with his fucking teeth a few hours ago (and oh gods, that was so fucked. He can’t believe he actually did that- what kind of monster does that-?). So no, Tommy did not need people being all soft and catering to his innate need to rope every eligible party into a makeshift family dynamic.

Mikey was a different case, because he actually had something to gain from the arrangement- but Raph was already the older brother. He didn’t get anything out of this, didn’t get a new title to lord over someone’s head.

It was entirely to make Tommy feel better.

A fact that made him unnecessarily frustrated for reasons he couldn’t figure out past it makes my heart hurt.

Tommy chewed on one of Captain Snuggles’ ears, tail twitching in a betrayal of the emotions he was struggling to strangle in his chest, “I don’t care,” he grumbled around fabric that was growing increasingly more saliva soaked by the second.

Raph's brow furrowed with concern, "Is, uh, everything okay?" He tentatively asked.

Squeezing the neck of Captain Snuggles tight, Tommy looked away from Raph and Leo, "'M fine. Just-" he spat out the ear, "-Just stressed," he explained away his bad mood, hiding his face behind Captain Snuggles to avoid whatever expressions were being sent his way.

A brief stretch of quiet filled the air, though it was quickly broken by Tommy’s ears picking up a new set of footsteps approaching the medbay.

He couldn’t quite tell who they belonged to, but he was pretty sure it was-

“Soup’s on, baby!” Mikey loudly announced his presence upon entry.

Tommy chanced a peak at Mikey, the promise of food making the hollow aching of his stomach suddenly prominent.

Mikey was holding a steaming plate of something absolutely incredible smelling. Upon noticing Tommy, his eyes positively lit up, “Is that a blanket nest?! Oooh, I’m so jelly, you look so cozy right now- you even have Captain Snuggles with you- Awh!” Mikey squealed in complete and utter joy.

Movements slow and careful so as to not agitate his injuries, Tommy sat upright. He put Captain Snuggles aside but swept his bushy tail around to keep the plushy tucked close to his side, "Raphael's gone all broody he has," Tommy informed Mikey with a solemn nod.

A dark day this was indeed. So sad to see such a young soul giving in to fatherly urges.

Raph, for reasons beyond Tommy's comprehension, took offense to the blatant fact being shared.

"For the last time, Tommy, there is nothing 'broody' about wanting to make sure that your hurt friend is comfortable," Raph exasperatedly continued to deny the truth.

Tommy went to wave his paw dismissively through the air, but quickly decided otherwise when the movement tugged on his stitches and pinched his ribs.

He settled for merely rolling his eyes, "Yeah, yeah, keep telling yourself that, maybe I'll start to believe you," Tommy drawled in a tone that heavily implied that he would be doing no such thing.

Raph shut his eyes and rubbed the space in between with a deep sigh, but otherwise dropped the subject.

While all this was going on, Mikey had cleared the trolley of medical equipment and rolled it over to Tommy's bedside.

"At first I was planning on making some soup- the ultimate recovery food- but then I remembered that your cute little paws don't have opposable thumbs to hold a spoon with! So I settled for broccoli, chicken, and potatoes- simplicity at its finest," Mikey delved into the lore behind his decision making as he set the plate down on the trolley.

Tommy had half the mind to scowl at him, “My paws are not cute, you dumb bastard,” he insisted, angrily grabbing and nibbling on a piece of broccoli with his stupid not cute paws.

Mikey, not taking the totally genuine insult to heart, sat down beside Tommy’s blanket nest. He propped one leg up on the edge of the cot and leaned against his knee with a cheeky grin, “Agree to disagree,” Mikey said with a smile on his face that was amusingly squished by the palm of his hand against the side of his face.

Tommy graciously ignored that comment in favour of scarfing down the food that made the meals at the Battle Nexus seem laughably mediocre in comparison.

Gods, he will never not be grateful for living with someone who actually knew how to cook.

Wilbur always tried his best, but he could never seem to season things right.

Techno on the other hand, was an absolutely fantastic cook during the short time Tommy stayed with him after escaping exile. Though that hadn't been much of a surprise, Techno was too much of an overachiever to not be the best at anything he planned on doing more than once.

Hence, his cooking had been fucking awesome. 

While Tommy was thoroughly occupied with eating, Mikey took the chance to address his brothers, "You guys can go get food if you want, I’m gonna hang out with Tom. Shoo shoo.” Mikey waved Raph and Leo away with the hand not supporting his head.

Raph sent Mikey a beaming smile, “Thanks for cooking, Mikey, you’re the best.” He flashed a thumbs up before dipping to go get a bite of Mikey’s marvelous cooking.

“Don't forget to wake Donnie!" Mikey shouted after him.

Leo wasn’t so quick to leave, though that could very well have to do with the sleepy crow in his lap, "You don't mind sharing your blanket nest with this little scamp, right?" He asked Tommy.

Though Leo's reason for going out of his way to ask was decidedly unclear since he plopped the crow into Tommy’s nest without waiting for an answer anyway.

Motherfucker, Tommy did not want to share the blanket nest Raph made for him with one of Phil's crows.

Tommy stopped eating with the express purpose of turning the shitty cot blanket he'd been sitting on into a clear barrier. One half of the nest for the crow, and one slightly bigger half of the nest for Tommy himself, "This-" he gestured to his half, "-is my side. The shittier half is your side. If you cross this line, I’ll- I will fucking kill you.” His threat was entirely offset by the barely suppressed laughter infecting his voice from just how out of proportion the whole thing was.

Evidently, Mikey must have thought the same thing if his concerned squawk was anything to go by.

Leo raised a brow, "I thought you guys were friends? What's with the death threats?"

That particular line of questioning was ignored by Tommy in favour of narrowing his eyes at the crow, who had taken a single hop closer to the makeshift barrier.

“Don’t you fucking-” Tommy started, but by then it was already too late.

Staring him dead in the eye, the crow trespassed onto Tommy’s side of the nest and stood tauntingly in front of the raccoon.

Tommy stared back with a carefully blank expression for several seconds, "You're not as funny as you think you are," he informed the crow lowly and evenly.

The crow’s feathers fluffed up, clicking its beak and making an offended croak.

Leo snickered quietly nearby, “Try your best to get along, kay?” He ruffled the fur between Tommy’s ears while he was too occupied with glaring down Phil’s crow to catch the movement.

Tommy’s head immediately snapped up to Leo with narrowed eyes, “Mate, stop fuckin’ ruffling me. You’re ruining my vibes. I am trying to intimidate this prick, and I can’t very well do that with you messing up my fur every five seconds, god.” These people, honestly, he thought grouchily to himself whilst attempting to fix his mussed up fur.

Leo raised his hands passively in surrender, though he still had an insufferable smirk on his face like he was just barely holding back a laugh, “Alright, alright, I get it, leaving now-” his attention switched to Mikey, “-want me to bring you a plate, Miguel?”

The offer was dismissed by Mikey shaking his head, “Oh, I’m good. I was snacking on things while I cooked,” he chirped, kicking his legs idly over the edge of the cot.

“Alright, I’ll be back in a bit. And Tommy, weird crow-” Leo fixed both of them with a stern look, “-no fighting, you two are already in bad enough shape as it is, don’t go making things worse for yourselves by initiating a turf war over a few blankets.” he waved his finger in emphasis of his words as he backed out of the room.

Well, tried to back out of the room. His course was a little off and he ended up bumping into the stretch of wall beside the doors as opposed to walking through them.

Tommy snorted at the mishap and wasn’t even too upset about the cursory twinge of pain it sent through his ribcage. Because Leo deserved to be lightly ridiculed for that shit. Fucking idiot, didn’t he know that the harder you tried to look cool, the more likely it was to backfire on you?

Leo muttered something probably incredibly embarrassed under his breath before clearing his throat, “None of you saw anything. Good day.” He stepped to the right and then actually backed out of the medbay.

Mikey cheerily waved after him, “Bye! Try not to hit any more doors on your way to the kitchen!” He chortled.

As soon as they were alone- discounting the crow- Mikey turned a slightly too bright expression to Tommy, “I’m sure you’re already pretty sick of hearing this, but how are you feeling?”

Well, he wasn’t wrong. Tommy was sick of all the redundant ‘how do you feel?’ questions, they were dumb and pointless because he was covered in cuts and bruises and his ribs were fractured. Of course he felt like shit, no amount of tylenol or ice packs were going to change that.

But because Mikey was Tommy’s favourite, he supposed he could tolerate the dreaded question one more time.

“Doing about as well as I can seeing as I have a busted rib and am also a furry now, god.” Tommy headbutted Captain Snuggles in a fit of frustration.

Because, no, he still was not over the fact that he was a fucking furry. In fact, Tommy didn’t think he’d ever get over that shit.

He heard a nervous chuckle from Mikey, “Oh, right, of course. Well, if there’s anything you need, just let me know! I am here to help!” The teen reminded with a level of cheer and exaggeration that almost sounded… Forced?

Tommy’s suspicions were almost immediately forgotten when his stomach grumbled in protest of the lack of eating while there was a perfectly good plate of food sitting directly in front of his nose.

"Yeah, yeah, I'll let you know if anything comes up," he assured distractedly, returning to his lunch shortly thereafter.

Mikey made a quiet noise of assent, shuffling around on the other end of the cot.

Relative silence hung in the air between them for the next while, occupying the time it took for Tommy lick his plate clean.

Pushing his plate away, Tommy looked curiously in Mikey's direction.

The mutant turtle was sitting with criss-crossed legs nearby, fiddling his thumbs with an odd expression taking up his face.

It didn't look like Mikey realized Tommy had finished eating, lost in whatever thoughts were bouncing around in that round head of his.

Tommy stared hard, working to pinpoint the cause and meaning of the expression.

After several seconds of coming up with nothing, Tommy gave up and resorted to starting some idle chatter. 

"So… What do you do for fun around here? 'Cause I'm gonna be honest, laying in bed all day for the next- how long did Leo say? Months? Sounds boring as all hell, man," Tommy complained with a quiet huff.

Mikey startled to attention, head snapping in Tommy’s direction, "Huh? Oh, right! Entertainment. Don't worry, you can count on me, Tom-Tom. I won't let you fall victim to boredom any longer!" He promised, bouncing to his feet and swinging an arm up into a heartfelt salute.

Before Tommy could so much as consider opening his mouth to say something back, Mikey was already running out the medbay like he had a pack of angered hounds at his heels.

Tommy stared at the doors that had been left swinging in Mikey's wake.

And then he looked over at Chat with a frown, "I'm not that bad of a conversationalist… Right?" He asked, left feeling slightly insecure after the hasty exit.

The crow tilted its head, “Bad. That bad,” Chat croaked a rough imitation of Tommy’s words.

Tommy rolled his eyes, "Oh, fuck off, Chat. What do you know about quality conversation, all you know is the number seven," he snarked back at the smug little shit.

Chat cawed a mimicry of laughter, but provided no further input- only proving Tommy's point.

How dare this prick criticize Tommy's talking skills?

Tommy was great at talking! The best actually. 

In fact, Tommy might even go as far as to say talking was one of his favourite things to do. 

The crow’s amusement settled down, and as it did, so too did Tommy's list of things to do dwindle down to an even smaller number.

He was left with nothing to do but nibble on the ear of Captain Snuggles and look around the room that he was already beginning to memorize.

Though time and time again, Tommy found his eyes drawn back to Chat. More specifically, he found himself looking at the stark white bandages bracing the crow's wing in place.

Guilt crawled up Tommy’s throat.

He couldn't help but feel Chat's injuries were his fault. The bird did swoop in to try to save him after all.

Tommy fit more of the plushy into his mouth, biting down to abate the twisty sensation in his gut.

"Does it hurt?" He asked after another beat of silence.

The crow clicked its beak once and then answered, "On a scale from one to ten, it is a seventy-seven, quadragintillion-”

Tommy was quick to put an end to that, sweeping his bushy tail around to lightly bap the chatter over the head, "Oh my god, could you stop trying to number spam for five seconds? I'm asking you a serious question because I thought you fucking died when you hit that wall," Tommy snapped, ears going back.

Chat said nothing for a few seconds, intelligent little eyes holding Tommy’s gaze.

Without saying a word, the crow hopped over Tommy's tail and awkwardly hobbled across the uneven mess of blankets to reach his side, tail feathers flaring and twitching for balance.

The normally mischievous crow made no move to poke and tug on Tommy’s fur. Instead simply settling down with its uninjured wing pressed comfortably against Tommy's flank. A silent expression of solidarity between two idiots with broken bones.

Tommy smiled wryly, a sudden thought coming to mind, "We should have a duo name, you and me. Like bone boys, y'know, because we both have broken bones? Or maybe brittle boys."

Chat leaned away with a heavily judgmental look.

How a bird managed to convey so much emotion, Tommy would never know.

What he did know was that it was fucking hilarious and biting down a laugh was much harder than he thought it'd be, "What? I'm serious, it’s a good idea. Don't you want to have a marketable duo name, Chat? Eh?" Tommy nudged the crow playfully with his nose, grinning all the while.

Chat croaked, low and unimpressed. The feathers on the back of its neck fluffed up and Tommy had to hold his breath and look away before he broke into laughter that he knew full well that he would immediately regret.

His eyes found Captain Snuggles, strewn limply by his other side with one ear entirely drenched in saliva from Tommy’s earlier chewing.

Feeling a bit more in control of his urge to laugh, Tommy took the bit in a new direction, “You don’t want to be in my duo? Fine. I will just have to make one with Captain Snuggles instead,” he decided, pulling the stuffed animal into his little arms with a disdainful sniff.

Turning his head back to Chat, he tilted his chin up like a snooty prick, “We will be known as the- the soft boys. And when we become the most popular duo in all the lands, me and my many wives will send you a postcard from our expensive vacation. Because we will be billionaires. We will be billionaires, Chat, and you will have missed out on that because you were too much of a coward to become a bone boy,” Tommy ranted, doing his best to come across entirely serious.

An easy feat for an incredible actor such as himself, obviously.

Chat looked as unconvinced as ever, “Du-o?” The bird shook its head, “No du-o, the crows are loyal to Father Phil,” Chat firmly attested.

Ah, Phil's chat always was annoyingly loyal, they would never let Tommy get away with a bit of harmless thievery from Phil. Bunch of snitches, the whole lot of them. 

It would seem this crow was no exception.

"You're no fun. You should enable me more. Be like- like- like Tubbo. He would enable me properly. In his quirky little bee boy way." Great, now Tommy missed Tubbo again.

Just then, Tommy's ears once again picked up on the sound of approaching footsteps.

Taking the easy distraction from the pang of nostalgia and longing that was beginning to take root, he turned his head to face the doorway as Mikey walked in with piles of junk stacked precariously in his arms.

Tommy watched on, already bracing for the inevitable disaster that awaited.

Except against all odds, Mikey actually managed to set everything down on the counter without incident. He looked pretty proud of it too.

Tommy tilted his head curiously, peering around Mikey to inspect the plethora of items, "What is that?"

Mikey did that weird thing again where he smiled a little too exaggeratedly and laughed in a manner just shy of unbelievably stressed and awkward, "Tada! Entertainment!" He gestured widely at the array, explaining remarkably little.

Thankfully, it didn't seem as though Mikey was quite done talking yet.

"We got colouring books, Jupiter Jim assorted universe action figures, this rubik’s cube I stole from Donnie, and I brought the tablet so you can watch videos- ooh! There's this one can stacking channel I really like, you should totally check it out," Mikey recommended, already picking out the aforementioned tablet and tapping at the screen.

Tommy barely had the time to utter a confused, "Huh?" Before Mikey was shoving a purple tablet into the blanket nest for Tommy to see.

Exactly as advertised, a video showcasing a short kid stacking cans started playing.

The part of Tommy's brain that was easily distracted latched on to the sight of cans being carefully stacked and balanced to create something bigger. Everything else was momentarily tuned out while Tommy stared with a slightly agape mouth at the activity on the screen.

Because of this, it took him a moment to register when Mikey started talking again.

"Yeah, I actually met him once, can you believe that?! He's not… Exactly how I thought he'd be- he tried to expose us to the whole of New York City for money- but I still like his videos!" Mikey was saying.

Tommy frowned at the short child on the screen, appreciating his stacking abilities much less after hearing that tidbit, "I bet I would be a better YouTuber than him," he reckoned.

Mikey stayed by the counter, fidgeting with a pack of crayons, "You think so? What kind of videos would you make?"

"Funny ones. I would make videos a thousand percent funnier than his," Tommy attested, nodding firmly.

Not that it would be a challenging feat for someone as inherently funny as Tommy. This can stacking kid would crumble in the face of Tommy’s sheer comedic timing and prowess.

And then the little prick would learn not to extort any of his friends for money before Tommy got the opportunity to do so himself. 

That was a joke- kind of. Mostly. It was mostly a joke.

But hypothetically, if he had a YouTube channel, he would definitely use his friends as clickbait. It was simply the TommyInnit way.

No longer interested in whatever unfunny business the can stacker was up to, Tommy found himself intrigued by the art supplies Mikey was currently fiddling with.

Tommy propped himself up on Captain Snuggles to better see over the walls of his blanket nest, “What kind of colouring books have you got?” He asked, if only to abate his boredom.

This time when Mikey smiled, it was a much more familiar look. Lacking the odd over compensation from before, "I am glad you asked." He brandished several colouring books like a fan.

Mikey bounced over to the bedside and laid them out for Tommy and Chat to see, "Oh, baby, look at these bad boys. This one even has cows in it," he revealed, pointing at one with the words self care printed in big elegant letters with barnyard animals in smaller print directly underneath.

Well, Tommy sure didn't need to be told twice.

Without even bothering to glance at the other colouring books, he made grabby hands at the barnyard one, "Fuck yeah, you know I love me some self care and barnyard animals." He might've sounded like he was joking, but in reality, Tommy had never been more serious about anything in his life.

Once he had the colouring book open on a page covered in clean lineart detailing a glorious cow chewing on hay in a barn, Tommy grabbed at the crayons Mikey brought over.

The waxy paper felt odd under his paw pads, but in a fascinating sort of way that made Tommy want to roll the crayon under his paw for hours.

Once again, Tommy felt his face fall into a slack imitation of a goldfish as he explored the weird texture.

A quiet snicker brought him out of his trance with a blink and a flick of his ears. 

When he looked up at Mikey, the source of the laughter, Mikey only waved his hands, "Sorry, you just had a really funny expression. Starting to think your YouTube videos really would be a thousand percent funnier," he conceded.

Tommy made a face at that, "Of course they would, I'm me."

Mikey giggled again, something about his posture relaxing.

Satisfied with the eased state of his tentatively surrogate brother, Tommy finally decided to try his hand at colouring.

It went… Well it was going about as well as he expected, what with his lack of opposable thumbs.

He dedicated all of his focus into sloppily and painstakingly colouring within the lines of the cow with a two-pawed grip on a red crayon.

Tommy found himself almost unexpectedly invested in his work. The rest of the world was tuned out as his colouring page gradually came together.

The use of red for the cow reminded Tommy of Mushroom Henry, which- okay, thinking about Mushroom Henry kind of hurt his heart, but it also made him happy.

It was all very bittersweet.

He reached for a new crayon once he was done colouring the cow and was pleasantly surprised to note Mikey already holding out the pack of crayons for him.

Tommy uttered a light, "Thank you," to the teen, picking out a dandelion yellow for the hay.

An indeterminate number of minutes several more crayons later, Tommy was faced with the finished piece.

He'd accidentally coloured outside the lines more times than he could count, but Tommy would like to think it added to the charm.

A shadow was cast over the page as Mikey leaned in to look, "I like your cow, what inspired you to colour it red?" He asked.

"Hm? Oh, mooshrooms. Sorry, I proper zoned out just then." Tommy apologized with a habitual chuckle that of course pinched his ribs.

Good gods, it was getting old to feel pain over every little thing.

Mikey shook his head, "Hey, sometimes you get hit by artistic passion and you gotta run with it. As a fellow artist, I get it," he assured Tommy sagely.

Tommy looked back down at his colouring page, unable to force a smile to his face as he stared down something that bore a vague resemblance to Mushroom Henry, his most consistent companion throughout exile.

"Yeah," he agreed unenthusiastically, poking at the page to feel the waxy residue of his artistic venture.

Something poked his shoulder, Chat. The crow poked him again with a closed beak, motive unclear.

Tommy wrinkled his snout, "Aye?"

Chat didn't actually say anything in response, but the knowing look in its eyes had Tommy averting his own gaze nonetheless.

Blankets pulling taut under him alerted Tommy to Mikey shifting his weight closer without having to look.

"Are you okay? Are the pain meds starting to wear off? Do you need me to get you another ice pack- or Leo?" Mikey sounded almost panicked.

And Tommy felt weirdly unnerved by how much Mikey seemed to care about his well-being. Not even Wilbur had ever been so… Insistent? 

A thorough look over and a potion tossed Tommy's way was usually enough to settle the man's worry.

But that didn't seem to be the case with Mikey, who was still fretting like Tommy was actively bleeding out.

Tommy responded to this fretfulness with a small half shrug, ''M alright, just tired. Long morning, long night. Not exactly easy to sleep in a bedless cell.”

Mikey immediately backed off, weight disappearing from the cot, “Right! I’ll leave you alone so you can get some sleep, uh-huh. Do you want the birdie to hang around, or…?” He trailed off, presumably in wait of a response.

“I think I want to be alone right now,” Tommy mumbled, though in reality, that couldn’t have been further from the truth.

He really, truly did not want to be alone right now. He wanted to be surrounded by people and laughter and comfortable banter that was everything his exile wasn’t.

But the fear of having to explain the reasonings behind these desires grew like creeping vines up his throat, smothering his voice whenever he considered asking for Mikey to stay.

He heard the crow click its beak disapprovingly, but Mikey was already complying with Tommy's wishes, "I'll just move all these to the other side of the bed for you-” Mikey gathered the tablet and art supplies, banishing them from the blanket nest, “C’mere, birdie, let’s leave Tommy alone for now," he urged with an open palm.

Even without dragging his eyes away from his horrid little paws, Tommy could feel the crow's trepidation.

Nothing a few more seconds of stubbornly ignoring the bird couldn't fix.

He watched Chat step up onto Mikey’s open palm out of the corner of his eye to be taken away.

Tommy listened to the light patter of retreating footsteps.

"I'll check in on you in an hour, sleep well, Tom-Tom," Mikey informed in a loud whisper before flicking off the infirmary lights and slipping out the doors.

As soon as the coast was clear and there were no more footsteps to be heard, Tommy curled up as tightly as he dared around Captain Snuggles.

Nose buried in the soft fabric that smelled so strongly of Raph, Tommy closed his eyes and focused on breathing. Taking in small, shallow inhales to avoid any unnecessary pain from his fractured rib.

Laying with his back against the wall of blankets constructed around him, Tommy could almost pretend the trapped heat was actually the warmth of someone sitting beside him.

… Holy shit, that was almost laughably pathetic, even having only thought it in his head.

Tommy bit back a groan pushing his forehead harder into Captain Snuggles like that could erase the memory of his most recent embarrassing thought. 

The embarrassment he felt was short lived though, as only seconds later it died to make way for an understated sense of melancholy to spread through him.

He pulled his face away from the bear plush, turning an unfocused gaze towards the doors. They served as the only real source of light in the room via light from the hallway seeping through the half opaque glass.

He was torn between wanting someone to suddenly burst through the doors to hang out with him and wanting to be left alone to wallow in his own misery for the rest of the day.

Ultimately, what Tommy wanted didn't matter because the door would remain closed regardless of his answer.

With a quiet sigh, Tommy let his eyelids fall shut again and hoped that the dreams would be merciful when sleep claimed him.

---

Several days went by with Tommy being bedridden with very little to do aside from colouring and scrolling through YouTube until he found something vaguely interesting enough to hold his attention for a short amount of time.

Even worse than the boring days though, were long nights spent trying not to scratch at the stitches running up his right arm. Once the lights were off and Tommy was alone again, his mind took that as a sign to fixate on every awful part of the Battle Nexus. Specifically the memory of a black and white scaled body twitching while blood spilled out across the dusty ground.

But sometimes he'd be stuck with the image of Tegu looming over him, fist drawn back with the intent to kill. A memory that just loved to blur itself with Dream's smiling mask whenever Tommy closed his eyes. So, you know, at least he got some variety.

He didn't notice the whine spilling from the back of his throat until Mikey, who'd been doodling on the floor nearby, was suddenly up and fretting over Tommy.

"What's wrong? Can I get you some water? How about a snack? Ice packs?" Mikey asked without leaving space for Tommy to actually answer.

He's been doing that a lot. It was a little weird, but hey, everyone copes with stress in a different way. Who was Tommy to judge?

Tommy shook his head lightly, "No. Thank you, Michael, but I'm good. Just bored again," he deflected.

Mikey blinked, shoulders relaxing, "Oh. Right…"

What followed next was perhaps one of the most awkward silences known to man.

It stretched on for almost an entire minute of the two of them staring wordlessly at each other.

Just when Tommy thought it would be too much to bear, Leo barged in through the medbay doors, “Just got a message from the Caseys, they should be stopping by in-” something crashed in a distant room, “-now.” Leo pointed in the direction of the crash.

While Tommy tried to figure out if he knew of any Caseys, Mikey lit up.

He bounced excitedly in place, “The Caseys are here?!” Mikey took a step forward, but quickly faltered and looked guiltily back at Tommy.

“Sorry, Tommy. I don’t want to ditch you, or anything. Um-” Mikey switched his attention to Leo, “Leo, do you think you could send them up to say hi in a bit?”

Leo had a worryingly scheming glint in his eyes, “I could… Or, we could bring Tommy to say hi with us,” he proposed.

Tommy narrowed his eyes, “And what exactly would that entail?” He asked slowly, immediately suspicious of whatever Leo had planned.

Leo approached Tommy’s cot, visibly holding back a grin, “Come on, don’t you trust me?” He asked in a cheeky sort of way that suggested Tommy was absolutely correct for being suspicious.

Tommy set his chin down on top of Captain Snuggles and wrinkled his snout, “Not when you say it like that I don’t,” he snarked back.

His concerns were waved away by a flippant Leo, “Dude, trust me. I have got a genius idea for how to do this. Now which of these blankets are you okay with me moving?” Leo gestured to the blanket nest.

A jolt of possessiveness ran through Tommy, but he was quick to brush it away. He couldn’t deny his curiosity over Leo’s supposedly ‘genius’ idea, “This one’s pretty mid, don’t like the shade of green.” The blanket in question was genuinely the worst shade of muddy green.

It looked like it wanted to be brown, but couldn’t quite commit to it. Hence the awful shade that could just barely be considered green.

Leo detangled the ugly blanket from the rest of the nest and laid it out on the bare half of the cot.

He patted the center of the blanket, “Okay, okay, lie down right here,” Leo eagerly directed.

And, well, Tommy was certainly sick enough of staring at the same boring walls all day, so he didn’t need much convincing.

Tucking Captain Snuggles away into his inventory, Tommy crawled carefully over the walls of his blanket nest, gritting his teeth and holding his breath through the acute pain in his chest all the while.

Nausea and anxiety alike swirled in his gut in response to the sensation, persisting even after he’d laid down on the middle of the blanket like Leo instructed. Curled up in the position Tommy found caused the least amount of pain, he shut his eyes tight and waited until the pain eased back down to a halfway tolerable level.

Claws digging into the blanket under him, Tommy looked up at Leo, “I’m expecting big things from this plan, y’know,” he informed with his best attempt at putting on a calm front.

Though the constant flicking of his tail and the way his ears seemed to be splayed permanently sideways with unease might have given him away. Just a little bit.

Leo rubbed the back of his neck, “Ah-ha, yeah, so, not that I think this will go wrong… But also, if this ends up hurting or freaking you out too much, just say the word and I’ll stop, okay?” He spoke with a sudden seriousness.

Tommy tried not to feel too nervous, giving a quiet hum and a small nod of acknowledgement.

With that out of the way, Leo grabbed the edges of the blanket and slowly lifted, eyes flicking consistently back to check on Tommy.

No matter how steady Leo was with lifting Tommy, he still couldn’t stop himself from instinctively tensing up- much to the discomfort of his poor fucked up bones.

Tommy made every effort to stay still throughout the process, doing his best to focus primarily on the fuzzy texture of the blanket as opposed to unrelentingly sharp pain pulsing through his ribs.

His attempts didn’t do him much good, but Tommy was sick and tired of being bed bound all day every day. He fucking hated staring at the same four boring walls for hours at a time, it was going to start driving him up the wall.

So Tommy could grit his teeth and bare the temporary pain, this wasn’t the worst thing he’d felt (pretty fucking close though), he could handle it. This was fine, he was fine.

To his relief, Tommy didn’t have to keep repeating that particular lie back to himself for much longer as all the shifting around came to an end. Slowly, he forced his body to relax, feeling the pain gradually dull once again.

His ears twitched when Leo said something, “Be honest, how bad did that hurt? Are you still up for this, or do you want back down? No shame if this is too much, seriously, I don't want you pushing yourself right now,” He stressed, and Tommy could feel the vibrations of Leo’s voice through his side.

Curiously, Tommy decided to get a proper look at his current situation before answering.

The blanket had been transformed into a snug sling that wrapped over Leo’s shoulder and held Tommy securely against his chest.

A baby sling. Leo’s genius idea was a baby sling.

Tommy held his breath and bit down on the inside of his cheek to stop himself from bursting into laughter at the notion.

He cleared his throat, “On a scale from one to ten? That was like, a solid seven in terms of pain. But it’s- well, I- listen, I don’t know how much longer I can stand being in the same old room all day. It’s not so bad right now, so just don’t- I don’t know, don’t go runnin’ ‘round anywhere and I’ll be fine.” At least Tommy hoped he would be fine.

Leo flashed a thumbs up in Tommy’s line of sight, “I’ll take your word for it. Now, what d’you say we go say hi to those two before they head out again, huh, Mikey?”

Mikey had been anxiously fidgeting with his fingers, but quickly dropped his hands and stood up straighter after being addressed. He sent Tommy and Leo a beaming smile, “You know it, baby! It's been way too long since their last visit," he complained, puffing his cheeks up with air.

Walking turned out to be a blessedly painless affair, in no small part thanks to the dutifully wrapped blanket preventing Tommy from jostling around with every step Leo took.

The only pain was that of faint annoyance whenever Mikey started cooing at Tommy because he was ‘just too darn cute’ or whatever. Even going as far as to ‘boop’ Tommy on the nose. Complete and utter Blasphemy.

Tommy was not cute, it went against his brand.

He’d have told Mikey as much if not for the fact that they’d just arrived in the living room where two new humans were engaged in conversation with Splinter and the other turtles.

The humans looked like they could have been siblings. A young woman rocking a black buzz cut- not dissimilar to Jack Manifold’s ‘haircut,’ but pulling it off way better in Tommy’s totally unbiased opinion- and a boy who looked to be about Tommy’s age with a slicked back mullet.

They were also both incredibly short- but Tommy would have to refrain from bullying them about it seeing as he was currently no taller than a half slab himself.

Leo spread his arms in greeting, “Caseys! Good to see you two, been a while!”

Were they both named Casey?

The woman only spared Leo a curt nod of acknowledgement before returning to her conversation with Splinter, whereas the boy’s face immediately lit up.

“Leo!” The boy called, jogging over with an eager grin that faltered into slight confusion when his eyes dropped down to Tommy.

Mullet boy furrowed his brow, evidently confounded by the raccoon in a baby sling, “Uh, Leonardo? Since when did you guys have a pet raccoon?” He asked quizzically, squinting at Tommy, who of course squinted back.

Mikey moved closer, “Oh, no, he’s not our pet,” he was quick to correct, valiantly defending Tommy’s honour.

Favourite brother behaviour right there.

Leo elaborated quickly thereafter, “Yeah, this is Tommy. We met him a little while back as a human, but then some stuff happened, so now he’s a raccoon. Tommy, meet Casey Jr, he’s a friend of ours,” he introduced them to each other.

Normally this would be where Tommy offered a friendly greeting or said something quirky and out of pocket.

But you see, Tommy had a much better plan in this pocket. One that involved making Leo look like a dumbass in front of his friend.

Tapping into his uncomprehending goldfish expression a little bit, Tommy chittered unhelpfully- ooh, he liked the way that noise felt on his vocal chords. He’d have to do that more often.

Then, to further drive the point home, Tommy completely disregarded Casey’s presence, taking to chewing on the blanket sling.

He watched out of the corner of his eye as Casey’s expression shifted further into skepticism, “Is this another one of your guys' pranks? I mean, I don't really get it- but I'm pretty sure that's a normal raccoon you're holding," Casey said, easily buying into Tommy’s act.

"What? No, this isn't a prank. Tommy, say hi," Leo prompted more firmly.

Tommy flicked an ear to show that he was listening, and then proceeded to completely and blatantly ignore him. While the blanket he was chewing on might have been an ugly shade of green, it tasted pretty good as far as blankets went. 

Which was to say it tasted like approximately nothing. 

Mikey giggled off to the side while Leo continued to try to coerce Tommy into saying something, “Tommy. Tommy, do not do this to me again. Don’t test me on this, I will send you back to the medbay, young man,” Leo threatened, poking Tommy repeatedly in the cheek.

And in one of the most predictable retaliations of all time, Tommy bit Leo's finger.

Leo yanked his hand away with an offended squawk, "Wha- hey! Don’t bite me, that’s rude.”

Tommy wondered if he could get away with sticking his tongue out at Leo without outing himself to Casey.

Speaking of Casey- the guy’s expression was caught somewhere between concerned and amused, “Um, ha ha, you got me. You can drop the joke now, Leonardo,” Casey chuckled awkwardly.

Leo made a vaguely distressed noise, "It's not a joke, he just likes being annoying," he emphasized pointedly.

Apparently he hadn't learned his lesson yet either, because then Leo prodded Tommy in the cheek again.

Tommy nipped at him again with a light growl.

And then Tommy's least favourite roommate decided to crash the party.

Donnie walked over with the crow perched on his battle shell like the little traitor that Chat was.

The second Donnie's eyes locked with Tommy's, he knew things were about to get a lot more annoying- and it wouldn't even be Tommy's fault this time.

An insufferable smirk slowly spread across Donnie’s face, “Is that a baby sling? Oh, that is just delightful. Straight to the archive with this one,” he declared, snapping a photo before Tommy could even think to react.

Mortification burned on Tommy’s face- he supposed one of the few upsides to having fur was that no one would be able to tell how red his cheeks may or may not have been.

Tommy almost tried to lunge at Donnie before remembering at the last second that oh yeah, fucked up ribcage, bad idea.

So Tommy was forced to compromise with a much less dramatic, “I… I am going to kill you if you don’t delete that picture,” he promised, knowing full well just how incapable he was of moving.

Casey made an odd noise, “Wait- you can talk?!”

Tommy shook his head, "No, no. You are hearing things. You're 'allucinating right now," he blatantly and ineffectively gaslit for comedic effect. 

But alas, his comedic genius must have been too great for some people to comprehend. His hilarious jest was met with Leo doing that annoying thing where he squished Tommy's cheeks between his palms.

Leo tilted Tommy's head until he could make stern eye contact, "I'm starting to notice a worrying habit with you and gaslighting."

Mikey chimed in, "Yeah, I feel like you could maybe use a constructive seminar on healthy communication."

If not for the fact that Tommy’s face was currently captured by Leo's hands, he would have sent Mikey an appropriately disgusted look. He's already tried therapy, it didn't exactly do him much good.

Though upon further reflection, that could also be because he'd only ever gone to one or two sessions with Puffy.

At least Donnie seemed to unknowingly agree with him, whatever that was worth, "Ugh, no one needs to sit through one of your 'Doctor Feelings' slide shows, Mikey," he groaned.

Mikey mumbled a discouraged little, "Aw, I felt like I was really getting through to you with that though."

Tommy managed to pull his face out of Leo’s grasp and scowled at Donnie, “You know what, Michael? I would love for you to put together a quirky little slide show for me some time,” he stated with a big nod to Mikey.

No harm in it. Tommy still had a couple months to kill before he was free from bedrest- and apparently baby slings- anyway.

Mikey grinned at him, tooth gap and all, "I'll make sure to take you up on that some time," he assured.

That dealt with, Tommy looked at Casey, fully intending on saying something witty, but immediately losing his train of thought.

He stared blankly at the human for two seconds before opening his mouth and speaking anyway, “Opinion on drugs?” Oh, and that was just one of the worst things to say right off the bat. Oops.

As expected, Tommy’s totally harmless question was met with varying degrees of bafflement and a particularly ear piercing, “What?!” From Mikey.

But hey, Chat was practically falling off Donnie’s battle shell with how hard the crow was cawing with laughter, so it couldn’t be that disastrous.

Tommy gave his own indignant, “Whaat? I’m just trying to make conversation here. I don’t actually do drugs or anything,” he scoffed, wincing when he accidentally put a little too much strain on his chest.

Somehow, Mikey must have actually noticed Tommy’s miniscule wince, because his eyes were alight with worry the next second, “What’s wrong? Is the pain flaring up again? Is it because you were talking- is that why you weren’t talking earlier? Ohmigosh, I’m so sorry, I wasn’t even thinking about that!” He… Apologized for some reason?

Tommy blinked rapidly to recover from the confusion, “Aye? Don’t fucking- don’t apologize. You didn’t even do anything, I just put too much energy into my voice. I’m just too goddamn pragmatic for my own good, I say shit and it just has the vibes pre-injected into everything I say.” That being said, he made an active effort to maintain a lower manner of speaking to reduce the stress on his ribs.

It kind of sounded like he was trying to talk while sick- except without all of the gross congestion-y shit.

Mikey deflated, “Sorry, I just… Panicked,” he admitted, apologizing again.

Donnie narrowed his eyes and muttered something along the lines of, “I do not think pragmatic means what you think it means.”

Which Tommy of course elected to ignore and pretend he never heard.

Casey furrowed his brow, apparently not getting the memo, because now he was looking worried about Tommy, “You’re hurt?”

Tommy tapped his weird little paws against the blanket sling, idly inspecting the texture under his paw pads again, “Yuh. Got bunch o’ stitches up me arm and a cracked rib- and I don’t mean cracked in the good way,” he joked with a halfhearted smile.

There was a sympathetic hum from Casey, “Ah, those are always rough. But I’m sure you’ll have a speedy recovery with Leonardo looking after you, I’ve always known him to be a skilled medic,” he vouched confidently with a smile that made Tommy feel like Casey was telling the honest truth.

It was starting to get a little more genuine in here than Tommy wanted from a chat with a guy he'd only just met.

So Tommy quietly cleared his throat and quirked a small grin, "Hey, you should see the other guy," he quipped, though his heart dropped as he suddenly remembered what exactly he did to 'the other guy.'

His easygoing smile felt much harder to maintain all of a sudden.

The opportune arrival of Raph, Splinter, and Buzzcut Lady walking over to join the conversation saved Tommy from the risk of Mikey picking up on his new bout of discomfort.

Splinter gave Tommy an appraising nod, “Ah, Tommy, it is good to see you out of bed- even if the method is a bit unusual. I trust that my boys have been taking good care of you?” He checked.

Tommy still felt a little too out of it to commit to some outlandish lie about how Leo actually spat in his face and then kicked him repeatedly in the ribs- the most he could do was mumble a, “Mhm, been great.” Before resorting back to chewing on the blanket to cope with the churning of his stomach.

Buzzcut Lady put her fist against her open palm and bowed her head in a brief but respectful greeting, “Splinter has told me of your injuries. I wish you a speedy recovery and ample opportunity to vanquish your enemies where they stand!" She shouted passionately, shaking her fist in the air.

Tommy chittered in place of laughter, pulling his mouth away from the recently dampened patch of blanket, "Thank you, shouty lady. I appreciate that." He also appreciated her immense amounts of gumption.

"My name is Cassandra Jones," she supplied, not impolitely.

Cassandra and Casey Jr… Cassandra could probably be shortened to Casey, right? Yeah, Tommy was kind of starting to understand why they were both collectively referred to as the Caseys- at least by Leo.

Tommy made a quiet noise of acknowledgment, “Thank you, Cassandra. I will think of you as I plot my revenge,” he vowed seriously, closing his eyes as he nodded to her.

Raph frowned, "Woah, you're not talking about trying to get back at Big Mama, are you?" He asked, brow furrowing with concern.

Tommy wrinkled his snout at Raph, “Well I can’t exactly do anything now, can I? Raph, I am comically small right now, I would get fucking obliterated.” He wasn’t even sure if revenge was something he wanted at this point.

Because what had revenge ever gotten him other than another friend hurt on his behalf and more things to be scared of?

It used to be an appealing concept, but now he just wanted to exist without his every action getting someone hurt.

Splinter stroked his beard like the old man that he was, "Indeed, Big Mama is not someone to be trifled with. You are lucky to have gotten out of her Battle Nexus at all. Best to stay off of her radar for a while," he recommended.

Tommy rolled his tongue in a purr-esque trill, "Splinter, you are so wise. Wise and old. Like Philza Minecraft, but shorter." He nodded appreciatively at the comparison he made.

Splinter’s hand froze mid beard stroke, squinting at Tommy, “I am going to take that as a compliment,” he decided after a moment of deliberation, waving a finger through the air.

“You should, he is so brave. Did you know he has a wife?” Tommy generously informed the masses of Phil’s marital status.

Though Donnie didn’t seem very impressed or thankful for the information as he rolled his eyes, “Yes, Tommy, we know. Seeing as it was one of the first things you brought up when we found you and I definitely do not have a full audio recording of that entire exchange,” he deadpanned.

Wait, what?

Tommy’s head snapped in Donnie’s direction, “You recorded that?” Shit, he didn’t remember anything about that whole debacle.

What kind of embarrassing things did Tommy say while he was sick? 

Donnie froze, “Uh, no…? No, I said that I do not have an audio recording,” he corrected unconvincingly.

A hand pet Tommy reassuringly on the head, Mikey had reached over, “It’s best not to think about it,” Mikey advised gently.

As Tommy’s favourite brother, he decided that Mikey could keep his fingers. Tommy leaned his head into Mikey’s hand, eyelids drooping and a purr building up in his throat as fingers massaged between his ears.

His brain turned to contented mush for all of five seconds until he caught on to the sound of quiet snickering and endeared cooing.

Tommy was quick to clear his throat and pull away from Mikey's hand once he realized that literally everyone was staring at him.

He was sure his tail would be ceaselessly flicking if it wasn't actively pinned to his side by the blanket sling. Tommy scowled at everyone but Mikey (and technically Leo, but only because he couldn't scowl at Leo without fully turning his head), "What?" He asked with a challenging bite to his tone, just daring them to tease him over it.

Leo was the first to break the slightly tense silence with a scoff, "I see how it is. So when Mikey pets you, you purr- but when I do it, you bite me?" He criticized with pure exaggerated offense and indignation.

Tommy rolled his eyes, "Oh yeah, because poking me repeatedly in the face is just so pleasant. Fuck off, you- you- you insufferable twat," he snarked back.

He got another poke to the cheek, courtesy of Leo, "Aw, but you're just so small and fluffy! how can I not?"

And so of course Tommy bit him. Honestly, what the hell did Leo expect to happen?

Leo still made a wounded noise that was more excessive dramatics than actual pain anyway.

Cassandra barked a short laugh, "Ha! Deserved!"

How incredibly based of her.

Tommy would like to high five Cassandra the next time he had a functioning (and preferably humanoid) body that didn't experience intense pain after any level of physical activity.

Something pinged from Cassandra's direction and Tommy's ears immediately angled towards the sound.

With a faintly surprised look on her face, Cassandra pulled a phone out of her pocket.

Whatever was on her screen made her eyes widen, "Oh, no, this is a disaster-" Cassandra shoved the phone back in her pocket, "-We are about to be late for laser tag with April!" She shouted like it was the greatest offense she could ever commit, hand shooting out to grab Casey by the wrist.

Without wasting another second on explanation, Cassandra bolted, pulling Casey with her.

Tommy caught sight of Casey’s apologetic expression and heard a shout of, "It was nice meeting you!" Before the pair disappeared up the ladder to the surface.

It took Tommy’s brain a few seconds to catch up, and when it did, he also realized he was still biting Leo's finger.

Tommy let go, subtly checked to make sure he didn't actually break skin, and then said, "I'm hungry, can we go get food?" He twisted his neck to look up at Leo, eyes big and expectant.

Leo raised his brows back at him, slightly incredulous.

He shook his head lightly, "Sure, let's go get you something to eat," Leo agreed with an amused huff.

Mikey jumped to follow, "I'll cook an early dinner. Tell me what you're craving, I've got you covered, baby!" He offered without hesitation.

While Tommy tried to pinpoint something more specific than 'food' to tell Mikey, Leo took it upon himself to answer in Tommy's stead.

"Ooh, can you make burritos? I've been really craving burritos recently," Leo requested.

Mikey gave Leo a flat look, "I wasn't asking you, Leo." He stuck his tongue out teasingly. 

Donnie stepped into view and raised a hand, "I for one, would also like burritos," he said. Unprompted.

The crow still perched on his battle shell chimed in with the incredibly valuable addition of, "Ourna."

Leo made big pleading eyes at Tommy, "Tommy, please tell Mikey to make burritos. I'll love and appreciate you forever," he said like that was a selling point.

Tommy stared blankly up at him, "This is coercion," he stated.

Leo's eyes got bigger, a pout curved his mouth.

They went on like this for several more seconds before Tommy broke eye contact with a quiet scoff. He turned his head to Mikey, "For reasons not related to Leo, I would like a burrito please."

Leo cheered while Donnie hissed a satisfied, "Yesss." Under his breath.

Raph on the other hand, pinched between his eyes like he had a particularly annoying migraine.

Mikey narrowed his eyes at Leo like he was trying to convey all the ways he didn't appreciate the interference on Tommy’s decision without words.

His expression brightened a moment later though when he brought his attention back to Tommy, "If that's what you want, I'll make you the best burrito you've ever tasted!" Mikey promised as he led the way into the kitchen.

Tommy and Leo were then almost immediately kicked out of the kitchen on the grounds of not being able to help with chopping vegetables- but Mikey was right. The burritos they got afterwards really were the best.

---

Tommy shifted around in his blanket nest for what must have been the millionth time that night. He couldn’t help it, no matter what he tried, he couldn’t get comfortable. It certainly didn’t help that his stupid fur had started getting all knotted and he wanted to take a shower or jump in a lake, but he couldn’t because he was a raccoon.

Tommy awkwardly tried to smooth out his fur with his paws- very poorly seeing as he couldn't really twist his arms very much unless he wanted to experience way too much pain.

Overtired frustration built up in his chest as all his attempts to fix the issue only made things worse.  

Somehow that was the thing that really got to him. After nearly two weeks of laying in a cot with almost nothing to do but scroll youtube or struggle through a colouring page, it was the messy fur and sleep deprivation that fucked him up.

All of his anger at the situation at hand- the fact that he still had more than a month left until his ribs should be healed and until he could get rid of the sutures in his arm- it all bubbled up and out of Tommy in the form of a series of distressed chirps.

The noise was not only wholly unexpected, but also completely startled Tommy out of his frustration.

Tommy blinked, momentarily stunlocked by the noise that had just come out of his mouth.

Did… Did he really make that sound?

Tommy dipped his head with a low groan. How was he meant to beat the furry allegations now?

The medbay doors slid open and Tommy was unable to contain his jump. Unfortunate since that caused a fresh wave of stabbing pain through his ribs.

His vision spun momentarily as the air left his lungs. It took all of his self control to not make the mistake of gasping in a bid to refill them.

Tommy clenched his teeth, a faint whine slipping out around the panicked lump in his throat.

“Tommy?” 

That was Leo’s voice.

It took Tommy a second to catch his breath, but when he did, he made sure to clear his throat before looking at Leo. It was kind of cool how well he could see in the dark now. He didn’t even struggle to make out Leo’s face, regardless of the lack of light in the room.

Leo looked tired and worried, dressed head to toe in pajamas.

Tommy tilted his head questioningly even though he wasn't sure if Leo could actually see him in the dark, "Ayup." His voice came out strained and just a bit too quiet, a lingering consequence of the pain in his chest.

Leo took a hesitant step forward, "Hey, what are you doing up?" He asked, like he wasn't also awake at some stupid hour of the night.

Biting back a heavy sigh, Tommy scowled at his paws, "My fur's all fuckin' knotted. Can't get comfortable. What's your excuse?" He turned the question back around.

He looked up just in time to catch Leo rubbing the back of his neck, "Ah, yeah, I couldn't sleep either. Had some tea and all that, but I don't think it's really kicked in yet, because I'm still very much awake, as you can tell." Leo gestured lazily to himself.

They fell into a short silence. Tommy busied himself with chewing on the ear of Captain Snuggles.

And because Leo was just as allergic to silence as Tommy himself, it didn't take very long for more words to fill the air between them.

"You said your fur was getting tangled? I'm pretty sure Splinter keeps a brush in the bathroom if you want me to go get that," Leo offered.

That… Sounded really nice actually.

Tommy nodded, and then quickly remembered that it was dark and Leo probably couldn’t see that, “Yeah, that would be great, thank you.”

“Back in a minute!” Leo promised with two thumbs up before running out.

And now it was just Tommy, Captain Snuggles, and his thoughts. All alone.

Tommy swept his tail around and started idly combing through the fur on the end, claws snagging on the frequent tangles.

It wasn’t long before Leo returned, this time Tommy was paying enough attention to hear his nearing footsteps.

He looked up a second before the doors slid back open.

Leo hesitated after stepping into the room, “You chill if I turn the lights on?” He asked, already reaching for the light switch.

Tommy shook loose strands of fur off his paws, “Go for it,” he confirmed.

He failed to take into account just how much brighter it would be when Leo flicked on the lights.

Tommy hissed a sharp inward breath, blinking rapidly until his eyes managed to adjust to the sudden influx of light.

By the time he could see normally again, the cot was dipping under the weight of Leo sitting down just outside the nest.

He held up a brush for Tommy to see, spinning it with flourish, "One ticket to brush town coming right up. Just let me know if I’m tugging too much,” Leo said as he brought the brush down on Tommy’s back.

Tommy only gave a noncommittal hum in response, eyelids drooping and a quiet purr almost immediately spilling out at the feeling of a bunch of little bristles pulling apart knots and straightening his fur.

The sound went blessedly without comment from Leo, who continued to carefully and diligently work through Tommy’s fur.

Time passed with a drowsy sort of comfort. With his head resting on his paws, Tommy’s mind began to wander.

It started with disorganized ruminations about the past two weeks. Like whether or not he and Donnie were actually on good terms now, something that was hard to tell when the guy pretty much lived in his lab.

Or why Mikey had been acting weird. It was nothing major, but Tommy wasn't so oblivious that he couldn't recognize the pattern. Anytime Tommy made even the smallest sign of discomfort, Mikey would rush to his aid.

And the doting was kind of fun at first, but now it was just stressing Tommy out.

Inevitably, Tommy’s mind drifted back to the Battle Nexus.

One particular intrusive thought returned, one he usually did his best to drown out with mindless distractions, "Is it true that you only have one life?" His mouth moved without permission.

The brush in his fur stilled, "Uh… Yesss ? Where's this coming from?" Leo asked slowly as he resumed brushing.

Tommy found himself reaching for Captain Snuggles, running his paw pads over the stitched together section, "So, like, everyone here has one life? That's real? They don't give you three?" He pressed.

"Three lives? They? Hold on- what are you even talking about?" Leo questioned, suddenly setting the brush to the side and meeting Tommy’s eyes with brows furrowed in confusion.

Tommy dug his claws into Captain Snuggles, "The admin? Y'know… Like, the person in charge of the server? Kind of like god. They decide how many lives everyone gets," he explained what he seriously thought should have been common knowledge to- well, to everyone.

Do the people here not know who the admin is?

Well, whoever they were, they sounded like a proper knobhead if they thought restricting everyone to just one life was a good idea.

Leo’s expression only fell further into bewilderment, "Admin? What, like- like on a forum? Or game or- or something? What does that even mean?"

"No, it's-" Tommy winced, forcibly toning down the intensity of his inflection, "It's just how things are. It's how things were on my last server." How else was he meant to explain something so… Ingrained.

He couldn't even begin to imagine not knowing about how the life system worked.

Leo still looked incredibly unsure, but he nodded anyway, "Right, okay, and so what happens when someone dies in- on your last server?" He asked cautiously.

Tommy looked down at his paws, nails still curled stiffly into the bear plush, "You respawn," he answered shortly, feeling increasingly more uncomfortable with the topic at hand.

Leo went quiet for a few seconds, "Have you… You don't have to answer this if you don't want to, but- ah, wow, this is a weirdly difficult thing to ask," he danced quite unsubtly around the question he so clearly wanted to ask.

Seeing as it was almost worse to sit around waiting for Leo to finally just come out and ask it already, Tommy decided to go ahead and do them both a favour, "Yes."

"Huh?" Was Leo's eloquent response.

Tommy felt his tail start to twitch, "Yes, I've died before. And all three times it's been fucking horrible," he bit out.

He didn't notice the error in his statement until Leo spoke up again after a solid pause, "Uh, maybe I'm just getting my math wrong, but if you had three lives and died three times… Doesn't that mean-"

Panic crawled up Tommy’s throat in an instant, suffocating, “I don't want to talk about it," he managed to blurt out.

He continued to stare down at his trembling paws with blurry vision and shortening breaths that sent constant twinges of discomfort through his ribs, only heightening his stress, "Please don't make me talk about that," Tommy whispered with a tight voice. 

The silence that followed was agonizing.

Fuck, he never should have brought up the life system. Why couldn't he have just taken Dog Boy's word for it? Idiot.

The oncoming downward spiral was only put on hold when Leo finally spoke up again.

"I don't think I ever got around to telling you about the Krang, did I?"

Krang? The name sounded kind of familiar? Maybe? 

Tommy looked at Leo with a slight tilt of his head in lieu of answering, not yet trusting his voice.

Leo, hands fidgeting in his lap, took the prompt for what it was, "A little less than a year ago, I made a mistake. A big one," he confessed.

A deep breath was drawn in before Leo continued, "I wasn't listening to my team when I should have been, and as a result, some bad guys got away with a key. I didn't know it was a key at the time, none of us did, but then Casey showed up- Casey Jr, that is. Said he was from the future, that future me sent him back with one task; find the key, stop the Krang." His expression became unreadable.

The unnatural stillness he held himself with made Tommy’s fur prickle for reasons unrelated to any tangles.

"We all laughed at first- I mean, the future? Yeah right. Except he wasn't lying, Pops recognized the name. They were a bloodthirsty alien race known for taking over and destroying planets. They were locked away in the prison dimension for the rest of time- or, they should have been… That key that I lost? That I let the Foot Clan get away with? Turns out it was the key to that dimension. My inability to communicate with my team literally started the apocalypse," Leo chuckled humourlessly.

Tommy didn't dare interrupt. He knew a thing or two about fucking up in a major way. Every action he made back on the Dream SMP always seemed to result in pain and suffering for both himself and everyone around him.

He still felt horrible about- well, about everything honestly. He didn't know what exactly he did to deserve Dream's creepy obsession and everyone else's ire, but it must have been something… Right?

Tommy crept closer to Leo, nestling up beside his leg in what little comfort he could provide.

Leo’s hand moved almost absently to settle on the back of Tommy's neck, thumb stroking occasional lines in his fur.

"We managed to get the key back, but not before the three surviving Krang got out. That's how Raph got the cracks in his shell and plastron. He took a hit for me and was taken by the Krang." Leo's hand was shaking.

"I kept making mistake after mistake until Casey finally lost it on me. And everything he said about me was right. I was selfish, impulsive, and every decision I made could have cost someone their life," Leo uttered, and it was all the things people had ever said about Tommy.

Impulsive, annoying, selfish. Dream only caused problems for everyone else after Tommy pissed him off first.

Tommy exhaled shakily. And when he pressed his forehead against Leo's thigh with his eyes shut tight, it was more for his own sake than Leo's.

Just another way Tommy was still selfish.

Leo kept talking, "Yeah… That was a pretty good wake up call for me. After that, we put together a new plan. It was risky, but, for the most part, it all paid off. We got Raph back, incapacitated two of the Krang, and had Casey ready to close the portal that would send them back to the prison dimension…" There was an unspoken 'but' lingering in his tone.

"Things got a little dicey towards the end, and I realized that the only way we were gonna win this fight was if I dragged him into the prison dimension myself."

Tommy couldn't breathe.

"The only reason I'm here now is because my brothers pulled off some crazy mystic portal nonsense to save my butt," Leo finished with a soft chuckle.

Tommy didn't really know what to say. His mind was a little too caught up with creating parallels between Leo's story and his own past on the DreamSMP.

But what he was really thinking about was how their experiences differed. How Leo was saved where Tommy was left to die.

It kind of hurt, and he couldn't help the bitter taste in his mouth. Even so, he couldn't deny that he was glad to have met Leo and the rest of the turtles.

So Tommy swallowed his jealousy and pulled his head back to look Leo in the eye, "I'm glad they saved you, and you're not selfish," he said earnestly.

Leo took his words with a smile, "Yeah? Well past me was a different case," he spoke in a tone that tried to be joking but fell short into tired territory.

You're not selfish, Tommy wanted to insist, because if you're selfish, then what am I? If Casey was right about you, then how many people were right about me?

But Tommy bit his tongue, swallowed his words and willed them to die in the back of his throat.

They fell into a long stretch of silence, one that was technically comfortable aside from the churning deep in Tommy’s gut.

Call it temporary bravery from hearing Leo talk about something that still clearly affected him- or maybe just call it Tommy being selfish again- but there was a part of him that was almost desperate to break this debatably comfortable silence. To respond to Leo’s recollection with one of his own.

"I killed someone." The confession slipped out before Tommy could stop it.

A look of surprise passed over Leo’s face before Tommy forced himself to look away.

He felt his ears pin back anxiously, too late to back out now.

Tommy played with the thin sheet covering the cot, resisting the need to shove something in his mouth, "I, uh, not to- I'm not trying to overshadow or one up you or anything, I- I- I just-" a gentle poke to the top of Tommy’s head shut him up.

"No worries, man. I get it. Just tell me already, I'm dying to know more- sorry, poor wording, I know." Though Leo's quiet snicker afterwards suggested that it was fully intentional.

Fair. Tommy might have found it funny if only Tegu’s bloody corpse twitching with the last remnants of life on the dusty arena ground hadn't been plaguing his mind for weeks.

Tommy hummed, struggling to keep his nerve, "I think it was… The morning you guys came to save me. I- they sent me out to fight this guy- lizard mutant, super tall, and almost as buff as Raph. He was fucking- I- I don't know, he was a bit of a bastard. Started going on about what kind of shit ass lizard he was and then gave me this the second I looked away." He pointed with his snout at the lines of sutures running up his right arm.

"What a jerk," Leo scoffed in a tone not dissimilar to a gossiping hair stylist.

"Right?" Tommy matched his tone without thinking, only getting a small stab of added pain in his chest as a consequence.

He cleared his throat and ducked his head as the brief respite of humour quickly died out in the face of remembering, "I tried. I really did, but it just wasn't enough. He-" a shaky exhale escaped Tommy’s mouth, "-I couldn't dodge in time, he broke my fucking ribs and I didn't even think, I just- he was going to- he was trying to kill me, and I can’t, Leo. I can't go through that again," he whispered through it all, faint whines catching on every uneven breath.

Tommy felt so fucking jittery, his entire body shaking and mouth moving before his brain could catch up, "I- I tore his throat out with my fucking teeth. And all I could feel was relieved until I remembered he only had one life. And no one- fuck- I've fucking- I've been there. He- Dream killed me and I was stuck in limbo for months before he brought me back. It was awful. I wouldn't wish that shit on anyone, you know?" And that was genuine.

Limbo was quite possibly one of the worst things Tommy had ever experienced. With its void of nothingness that ate away at Tommy’s mind and the sheer absence of everything that wasn’t pain and discomfort. Worse still was the way it ripped him apart when Dream revived him, death fighting to keep its hold on him every step of the way until Tommy was left a trembling husk on hot obsidian floors.

It was something that continued to fuck him over to this day, even worlds away from Dream and all his carelessly violent methods. Pain had become an overwhelming reminder of the time he took his last breath in a cell he was never supposed to be in for longer than thirty minutes.

"It's like you said."

Tommy flicked an ear towards the sound of Leo talking.

"It was you or him. And I promise you that no one's gonna blame you, or- or think any less of you for it. I'm just sorry we didn't find you sooner," Leo offered quiet assurance, voice gentle and earnest.

Tommy didn't have the energy left to muster up much of a response. He settled with leaning his face against Leo's leg, "I'll be fine." Tommy could only hope he was telling the truth when he said that.

Leo hummed, rubbing behind Tommy's ear, "Yeah… Nice talk. So anyway, wanna watch this video essay I found about the theme of unbreakable bonds in Jupiter Jim's return to Venus?" 

The tonal shift was sudden, jarring, and incredibly needed.

Tommy's shoulders slumped in relief, the smallest hint of a smile pulling on the edges of his mouth, "You know I love me a good video essay," he agreed, dragging himself back into his blanket nest.

He curled up against the wall of the nest, Captain Snuggles within reach, and pointed to the tablet laying dormant on the other side of the nest with his snout.

Leo picked it up on his way to sit down beside Tommy, careful not to disturb the blanket walls too much as he got comfortable.

After a few seconds of scrolling and mutters of, “Hold on… I know it’s around here somewhere.” From Leo, a video was finally opened up. 

Someone with good enough mic quality not to be too ear bleedy gave their opening statement while a speedpaint of the main Jupiter Jim cast took up the screen, occasionally interrupted by screenshots and short clips from the movie of discussion.

But Tommy had one last thing on his mind before he could fully relax. Something he had nearly forgotten about, "...I lost the sword you gave me,” he mumbled with drooping ears.

Which was a real shame because Tommy was really starting to get attached to that thing. It was like a very stabby security blanket. The best kind of security blanket if you ask him.

Leo made a sympathetic noise, eyes briefly tearing away from the screen to glance over at Tommy, “That’s okay, we’ll get you a new one,” he promised.

“You’d better. Or else I’m gonna have to steal yours. Swords are part of my religion,” Tommy lied, shuffling closer to Leo with a scowl.

His grumbling was rewarded with an eye roll, “Yeah, yeah. You can pick one out once you’re better, now shush! You’re talking over the video,” Leo whisper-scolded him.

Tommy was tempted to point out that Leo was also talking over the video, but decided against it when a big yawn split his jaws.

Alright, maybe his unnecessary retorts could be saved for another time. Just this once, because it was late and Tommy liked video essays.

Basking in the innate comfort of company and the quiet analysis playing from the tablet, Tommy fell asleep within the first five minutes.

---

After Tommy’s late night trauma sharing session with Leo, things got a little easier.

It was always astonishing how much just talking to someone could help in lessening the otherwise unbearably heavy weight bogging down his heart.

Sure, it didn’t necessarily fix anything. But it was nice to have someone in the know for once, even if what little information Tommy did share was patchy and surface level at best.

Days passed with far less inexplicable bouts of dread churning in his stomach and Leo had taken to reading through the Jupiter Jim comics with Tommy- oftentimes joined by Raph, Mikey, and even Phil’s crow once or twice.

Just when Tommy’s life was settling into a new normal, he was thrown a curveball in the shape of an unexpected visitor.

Donatello, with his arms tucked suspiciously behind his back, entered the medbay in the evening, just after Mikey and Leo left to pick up pizza for dinner.

Tommy paused the show he was watching to stare at Donnie, “Ayup,” he greeted with an awkward nod. 

What the fuck else was he supposed to say? They’ve basically only had, like, three full conversations ever- if that. And most of those were just them trying to get on each other's nerves anyway.

Donnie took a deep breath before speaking, “I am here to invite you to come ‘hang out’ in my lab for very normal and non-interrogation related reasons,” he stated one of the most rehearsed sounding sentences Tommy had ever had the unique joy of hearing.

Tommy squinted at him, “Literally why would I want to do that? You are the least subtle person in existence, I don’t want to be fucking interrogated, man.”

Donnie's mouth fell open in slightly exaggerated offense, "I said it's not for interrogation reasons," He insisted.

Wholly unconvinced, Tommy was fully ready to press play on his show again, "Even if I believed you, I think I'd rather watch the quirky people on the screen save the world through the power of friendship and found family. It's got a grumpy little Chefnoblade in it.” Realistically, the only trait the character shared with Technoblade was being a pig, but Tommy would continue to refer to him as variations on Techno’s name anyway.

"Would you still say no if I told you I made you a much more convenient mode of transportation?” Donnie asked, revealing a purple metal suitcase from behind his back and clicking a button on the handle.

The suitcase rapidly unfolded until a stroller stood in its place.

Admittedly, that was kind of sick as hell.

Tommy did his best to remain externally aloof and unimpressed, "Is that a regular stroller, or…?" Regular aside from being extremely purple and capable of folding into a suitcase of course.

Donnie scoffed, "Is it a regular stroller? Obviously it's fully self driving and capable of basic hover technology." A purple screen blipped into existence over his forearm, and with a couple of taps, the legs of the stroller folded upwards and the wheels flipped sideways.

A barely audible hum emanated from the stroller as it lifted off the ground and hovered a steady half slab above the floor.

Tommy wasn’t quite able to stop the awe from coming through on his face this time, jaw dropping and tail swishing behind him.

His reaction had the regrettable effect of encouraging a smug little smirk from Donatello, “So is that a yes on going to the lab?” Donnie presumed, raising a brow.

Tommy glared, “Fine. But only because of the hover stroller. Just know that if you do try to interrogate me, I will tell on you. And then the lads are gonna be proper cross with you, yeah?” He explained in no uncertain terms.

He already had his depressing little heart to heart with Leo the other night, he wasn’t exactly looking to have another. Especially not with Donnie.

His warning went largely ignored by an unconcerned Donnie as the hover stroller zipped over to Tommy’s bedside. Just one small step and then Tommy would be in a whole new world of mobility unhindered by his injuries.

Making sure to stash Captain Cuddles away in his inventory first, Tommy mentally braced himself before committing to painstakingly crawling over the nest walls and onto the stroller.

The seat was composed of thick, durable fabric that stretched all the way up to a handlebar. Bit of an odd texture, but one he could see himself getting used to with time.

Once he was somewhat comfortably curled up in the seat, the hover stroller got to moving.

It followed perfectly behind Donnie, never straying too far back or forward. 

Tommy peered down at the wheels that kept the whole thing afloat, "Tubbo would kill to have something like this. How'd you fit the redstone in this thing anyway?" Not that Tommy knew anything about redstone, but he was pretty sure flying devices were usually a bit bulkier than this.

"Uh… Sorry, redstone?" Donnie sounded genuinely confused, glancing back at Tommy with a puzzled look on his face.

Oh, no fucking way.

Not having a Nether dimension he could almost accept- but no redstone?

Tommy shook his head, "There's no way you guys don't have redstone. That's literally just not possible," he adamantly denied.

Donnie didn't say anything for a second before, "Oh wow, look at me not interrogating you over that very intriguing thing you just mentioned," he ground out through his teeth.

No way. Tommy was actually going to lose it, "Nah. Nah, mate, you're pulling my leg. You have redstone, that's just logic," he continued to insist.

Because he was right about this.

"I can assure you I have no idea what you're talking about," Donnie maintained as they arrived in the lab, purple LEDs seeping light out from every nook and cranny.

Not really thinking, Tommy’s immediate response was to mockingly parrot back, "Oh, I can assure you I have no idea what you're talking about."

Very slowly, Donnie panned his head around to face Tommy with an incredibly unimpressed- and perhaps a bit ticked off- expression, "Sorry, what was that?" He asked, obviously knowing full well what Tommy had said.

Tommy grinned nervously, ears flicking back, "Nothing," he intoned.

Shockingly, he was let off the hook with little more than a huff as Donnie pinched the bridge of his nose and turned to grab something off a nearby desk.

Tommy tried leaning forward to get a better look, and then nearly panicked when the hover device started drifting in tandem.

By the time he managed to re-center himself, and by extension, stop his ride from moving unexpectedly, Tommy had full view of what was in Donnie's hand.

It was literally just a remote. A remote with one suspicious red button protruding out the center.

Tommy eyed the thing warily, "That wouldn't happen to be a doomsday device, would it?" He questioned blandly.

Donnie hovered a finger over the button, "Oh, this? No, it's not, it's- well." He pressed down on the button without bothering to finish explaining.

Mechanical whirrs filled the room, Tommy heard a door slam shut behind him as every light in the lab went dark at once.

An involuntary growl of unease rumbled through Tommy's throat, fur standing on end and shoulders raising.

A spotlight beamed Tommy right in the eyes before he'd gotten the chance to adjust to the darkness.

It all made up for a jarring experience that left stars dancing across his vision.

When Tommy no longer felt like he'd been fucking flashbanged, Donnie was holding a pen and notepad in his hands. The remote was nowhere in sight.

Donnie clicked the pen three times, "I lied, this whole 'hangout' is a front. I am sick and tired of being left out of the loop or otherwise thrown off by half of the things that come out of your mouth, so you're not leaving this room until I have answers," he declared in a very shocking, not at all predictable twist.

Tommy could feel his tail start to twitch, "Did you seriously just lock me in here? I'll scream."

"No you won't."

No he wouldn't. It would hurt his chest far too much to be worth the petty satisfaction.

Tommy glared at Donnie through the spotlight, "You are a bitch."

Donnie wagged his pen, "Au contraire, I am simply being thorough," he corrected with a smirk that made Tommy want to throw something at him.

Hmm… Tommy still had a stolen cup and tray in his inventory, he could chuck that at the prick.

While he was busy weighing the pros and cons of this hypothetical, Donnie had sat down in his swivel chair and swung his legs up onto his desk.

Donnie tapped the end of his pen against his notepad, "Why don't we start with this ' redstone' substance you mentioned?" He 'suggested.'

Tommy's agitation lost some of its heat, "Seriously?" That wasn't nearly as invasive as he thought it'd be.

Judging by the subtle glint of interest in Donnie's eyes, yes. Yes, he was entirely serious

Tommy quietly cleared his throat in an attempt to stall while he figured out how to explain something he knew so little about. Because he wasn't a nerd.

"Right, redstone…You find it in caves an' shit- I usually just ignore it 'cause I have no idea how to make things. But Sam's really good at it. He made the- he could make all these crazy piston doors and moving platforms. Locks that you couldn't open without a specific item that never left Sam's inventory… An- anyway, uh, yeah, basically redstone is how you make automatic farms and shit that does things at the flick of a lever," Tommy explained, having looked down at his stupid paws once he noticed himself diverging a little too far into a description of the prison.

An intrigued hum from Donnie was quick to bring his gaze back up.

Donnie wrote something down in his notebook, "I see, so your redstone functions similarly to our electricity… Interesting, and you seemed surprised by how compact my engineering is." He lifted an eyebrow, waiting for Tommy to elaborate.

Tommy tried not to slam his head against his seat. He didn't want to talk about redstone, these were such boring questions.

Biting back a loud sigh with every ounce of willpower, Tommy did his best, "Well yeah, redstone takes up space. And you need space for pistons and repeaters and whatever else people use to make stuff. I think communicators have the most compact redstone, but everyone gets one of those from the universe or something." He summoned his communicator to his paws, scrunching his face in displeasure when it slipped and clattered loudly to the floor.

No one really knew where communicators came from- or at least none of the people Tommy asked knew anything- they were just something everyone had.

Donnie slid his legs off the desk and leaned to pick up the fallen communicator, "Oh, why do you have a brick phone of all phones?" He sounded absolutely scandalized, expression almost bordering on muted horror.

Tommy furrowed his brows at the turtle in turn, "Aye? It's not a phone, it's a communicator. Now give it back." There shouldn't be anything particularly incriminating on his comm (aside from a handful of purely ironic selfies), but it was still his and seeing it in someone else's hands made his insides do all kinds of uncomfortable things.

Instead of giving the communicator back, Donnie turned it on, "Out of date and no password protection? Wow, this thing's archaic. How do you even live with this thing?" He scoffed, carelessly waving the comm around.

Stress formed a vice grip around Tommy's heart, eyes wide and flicking rapidly between his communicator and Donnie's almost appalled face.

Tommy dug his claws into the thick fabric underneath him. Not quite enough to break through, but it was a near thing, "Seriously, give it back, man." Anxiety held a strong enough presence in his voice to make him cringe, ears laying flat.

Donnie jolted, something hard to read flashing across his expression, "Yeah, alright. I've got another question anyway." He tossed the communicator the short distance to Tommy's hover stroller.

Tommy scrambled to catch it, causing sharp stabs of pain through his chest in his haste to pull the communicator protectively close.

He was only given a few seconds to recollect himself before Donnie asked his next question.

"Tell me about this 'Nether dimension' of yours." Donnie flipped to a new page, pen poised and ready to write.

With a cursory bit of snark over the continued interrogation, Tommy launched into a slightly more adept explanation of the Nether.

Thus kicked off a slightly uncomfortable, but generally tolerable series of back and forths. With Donnie asking about various aspects of Tommy’s world. A good number of which Tommy didn't actually know how to answer because they just weren't things he thought to question before.

Like how do blocks float? Because you place them there, he'd answered truthfully, getting a frustrated, ' but how?' From Donnie in response.

What else was Tommy supposed to say to questions like that? He didn't know how or why things worked the way they did, that was just the way it's always been.

Eventually though, the kind of fun, mostly tedious questions came to an end.

But instead of the lab doors opening up to let Tommy go, Donnie stared down at his most recent page in his notepad with an intensely contemplative look on his face.

Whatever he was thinking about, Tommy found that he wasn't too worried. Nothing Donnie asked him had been all that personal. He was too much of a science nerd for that shit.

Tommy was about to tell the prick to just spit it out already when Donnie came to the conclusion on his own.

"I was rewatching the recording I- I mean I was remembering some parts of the conversation from when you first got back from the Battle Nexus. And I remembered you mentioning someone named Dream? Pretty sure Raph also mentioned him when we were looking for you. And I already know about your older brother and not-dad, but I can't figure out who this other guy is in relation to you-" Donnie was still talking, the words went right over Tommy's head.

Every fiber of Tommy’s being went stiff with the mention of Dream. With being asked about Dream.

"Tommy? Are you even listening to me?"

His eyes snapped back up to Donnie and flashed his fangs in a sudden bout of turbulent aggression, "Yeah, I fucking heard you, dickhead. Dream is- he's an asshole and he's not my friend and I fucking hate him," Tommy seethed, impulsively shoving a paw in his mouth and biting.

Why did Donnie have to ask about Dream of all people? Why couldn't he just ask Tommy to talk about Philza Minecraft? He'd even take talking about Jack Manifold over this.

The sound of pen scratching against paper never filled the air, Donnie's expression was perfectly blank, unreadable.

It was stressing Tommy out.

Donnie clicked his pen and set both it and his notebook aside, "Last question."

Oh no, Tommy braced himself.

"How do you feel about these textures?" Donnie procured several trinkets from his desk and dropped them in front of Tommy's paws.

Completely thrown off, Tommy could do nothing but stare and utter a baffled, "What?"

Donnie avoided his gaze, "Yeah, I mean, it's just for a little side project down the road- haven't even started working on blueprints yet. But it's never too early for data collection, right?" He said the most nerd thing Tommy had ever heard.

Still feeling remarkably off balance, Tommy nodded in slightly confused agreement and placed his paws over one of the trinkets.

It was a simple metal cube with a perfectly smooth and polished exterior, "This one's boring," Tommy decided easily, taking immense joy in pushing it to the ground and hearing the loud clunk of impact.

Tommy reached for the next object, "This one's…" He completely lost his train of thought, rendered fully distracted by the bumpy, slightly rubbery texture of the disk.

And then his paw pads found quirky little grooves in the pattern and the rest of the world might as well have disappeared for him.

Fascinated trills rolled off his tongue as he continued to inspect the texture.

It took a few minutes and a very pointed, "Ahem." For Tommy to remember where he was.

Tommy chucked the bumpy trinket overboard, straightening up and clearing his throat, "That one's alright," he stiffly underplayed, embarrassed by his reaction to the texture.

If Tommy didn't know any better, he'd say Donnie looked amused.

The turtle picked up the fallen trinkets and tossed them idly between his hands, "I think I've got enough information. Here-" Donnie tossed the bumpy trinket back to Tommy and took away the remaining untouched knick-knacks to be abandoned on his desk, "-consider it payment for your cooperation." With a few taps to his purple wrist screen, the usual LEDs replaced the spotlight and Tommy heard the hiss of a door opening behind him.

Tommy blinked, looking between Donnie and the gifted disk of rubbery plastic, "I get to keep the floating stroller too, right? 'Cause I'm gonna be honest, it'd be kind of weird and cringe if-"

He was interrupted by Donnie, "Yes, you can keep the stroller seeing as its only use is to grant you increased mobility until your injuries heal- and yes, it has anti-collision protocols," he deadpanned.

A grin split Tommy’s face, "Ooh, I'm going to give Raph a heart attack," he decided, shifting his weight all the way to the left and getting a little spark of satisfaction when the stroller started turning in response.

He got an amused huff from Donnie for his words, and Tommy would fervently deny any pride that fact made him feel.

Tommy let the stroller spin in circles until he felt dizzy enough to regret it, "Byee," he sang as he leaned forward and zipped off to go cause problems elsewhere.

---

Something that Tommy would only ever admit to people who weren't Donnie was that he was incredibly grateful for the hover stroller.

In just two days of having it, he was already able to do so many more things at all hours of the day. He could spectate people playing games in the arcade, hang out in the big room poking at his fun little texture disk while the turtles did tricks on their skateboards that only occasionally became a safety hazard for Tommy.

The only thing that got worse was Mikey's weird clingy concern. It was bad enough that even Donnie commented on it with a, "Come on, Mikey, have a little more faith in my engineering." In response to Mikey worrying that Tommy was going to fall off or something. 

Rare Donnie W.

All that said, Tommy still appreciated the time he spent in the blanket nest Raph made for him, playing games or watching videos on the tablet.

Which was exactly what Tommy was doing when a notification for some social app he never bothered with popped up and he accidentally tapped it instead of swiping to dismiss it.

A disgruntled noise caught in Tommy’s throat as the screen went white. A second later, a logo appeared in the middle, sitting there for several seconds until the page loaded.

A picture of two familiar humans took up the screen. The Caseys, Cassandra with an arm hooked around the slightly taller Casey Jr's neck, bringing him down to look roughly the same height.

There were trees in the background, some with leaves already changing to the bright colours of autumn.

Tommy stared for a slightly excessive amount of time at the trees. Fucking hell, he missed trees. 

They should get some saplings for the lair…

Tommy scrolled down to the caption reading; Just beat my kid in a race to the park :fire_emoji: :skull_emoji: :fire_emoji:

Wait, her kid?

Tommy did a double take at the people who he originally thought to be pretty close in age.

A second later he remembered one of the things Leo mentioned during their little heart to heart.

Casey Jr was… from the future, right? Weird. 

Tommy snorted, "I can't believe she named him after herself. That's fucking awesome," he snickered approvingly.

It was then that something new caught his eye, a location tag.

Acting purely on impulse, Tommy backed out and pulled up the map app, typing the park name into the search bar.

A second of loading later, the map drew a path between his current location and the park. It didn't look too far away either…

Bad idea, bad idea, bad idea-

And Tommy was already climbing into the stroller, turning on the hover function, and steering it to the closest exit.

If he were a wiser person, he would probably grab one or two of the turtles to join him on his trip up top. But did he really need them to escort him around? Between his cool new hovercraft and Google Maps, Tommy was pretty sure he'd be fine.

Certainly wasn't going to take several minutes tracking his roommates and then convincing them of how important it was that Tommy got to go hang out around nature.

And since he didn't happen to bump into anyone on the way out, Tommy left the lair on his own.

The streets were about as busy as the last time he went topside, and somehow even louder than before.

He didn't let that dissuade him though, he'd already gone this far, he wasn't about to back out now. No matter how many odd looks he got from the handful of people who weren't in too much of a rush to care. 

Tommy followed the directions on the tablet to the best of his ability (though it did have to re-route a few times after he got confused and took a wrong turn), and before he knew it (nearly half an hour later), he was surrounded by trees and twittering birds.

He breathed in as deeply as his fractured ribs would allow, finding a small sense of home at the fresh scent of trees and grass. Shame that the unpleasant smells from the city remained an underlying scent- but Tommy was perfectly content to simply ignore that.

A serene feeling washed over him as he drifted at a slow pace through the park, stopping frequently to watch birds and squirrels go about their evening business.

Every second he spent in the park was another second of itching temptation to climb down from the stroller and wander around on his own two- four legs.

It was a terrible idea, horrible even. If he couldn't even take a full breath without feeling pain, then he definitely wouldn't be able to get down safely.

Urgh, but grass and trees and dirt.

Tommy was sure he had to be the most petulant of pouts on his face, silently cursing his brittle boy bones for denying him this simple joy.

Though that frown was wiped right off his face when a brave little chickadee landed on one of the metal bars running from the front wheels of the stroller to the handlebar. The tiny bird tilted its head, hopping higher up on the bar and fluttering its wings with short, twitchy movements.

"Aww, hello there little one, hello," Tommy cooed, making every effort to come across as harmless to the chickadee.

It seemed as though his attempts were paying off, the chickadee hopped lower, tilting its head the other way and inspecting Tommy with adorable little eyes.

And then the moment was ruined by two approaching sets of footsteps and a voice he'd only heard once before, "Huh? That looks like one of Donnie's designs!" 

It was the voice of Casey Jr that scared Tommy's new bird friend away.

Tommy stared sadly up at the branches where chickadees hopped and flitted around between neighboring trees. Goodbye, happiness…

A startled noise slipped out from him when his super cool hover stroller was turned around with little warning.

Instead of birds in treetops, Tommy found himself staring at a very confused Casey Jr, Cassandra standing just behind him with her arms crossed and a stern expression that might've just been how her face naturally was.

"Tommy?!" Casey exclaimed a little too loudly given the generally low-key vibes of the park.

Amongst the ringing in his ears, Tommy heard several birds flee the scene. He let out a defeated sigh, "Hello Casey, hello Cassandra. You've scared the birds away," he informed them sadly after getting the mandatory greetings out of the way.

Cassandra didn't seem too put off by his disappointment at seeing them, but Casey Jr immediately wilted apologetically, "Sorry! Um, maybe they'll come back?" Casey guessed, unsurely optimistic as he rubbed the back of his neck.

Tommy pressed his mouth into a thin line, "Maybe," he sighed, already mostly over it.

Casey straightened, "Where are the others? You're here with the turtles right?" He looked around like he was expecting one of them to jump out at any moment.

Cassandra nodded, "Yes, it is very foolish of them to leave you unmonitored with those injuries. Don't those fools understand the importance of the buddy system?!" She criticized with impressive intensity, clenching both fists in the air like this was a grave oversight and not just Tommy wanting some fresh air.

Tommy cleared his throat awkwardly, shifting in his seat, "Oh, uh, no. No, I came out here by myself." Please don't scold me, he thought, eyeing Cassandra nervously.

A severe frown found its way onto her face, but Casey was the one to speak first, "Really? And they just let you leave like… This?" He gestured to all of Tommy and the hover stroller.

Tommy shrugged with one shoulder, "I mean, I didn't tell them I was going out. Just did." And he would maintain the fact that he didn't have to either.

They weren't in charge of him, and he was only going to be gone for a few hours at most. No big deal. 

Casey’s brows pinched together, "I think I'm going to message Leo. It's a bad idea to wander off without telling anyone," he explained while pulling a phone from his back pocket.

Tommy just about physically lurched forward, waving his dumb little paws, "Oh- no, no, that's alright. Mikey will just message me if he's worried," he hurriedly assured.

Although on second thought, did he ever actually get around to giving Mikey his number? That might just be something that happened in a dream…

Eh, it'd be fine. A little worry never killed anyone. Probably.

His brief contemplation was interrupted by Cassandra, "In that case, I suggest we stick together. This isn’t a solo mission, never underestimate the importance of the buddy system,” she attested in a firm tone that left no room for argument.

Not that Tommy particularly cared to be honest. Cassandra and Casey Jr seemed cool enough, especially Cassandra. He liked how unapologetically extreme she was, a trait both funny and admirable.

So Tommy nodded, "Okay. Thank you, lady, I will make sure I remember the buddy system next time," he promised.

Though whether or not he would actually adhere to that promise in the future was still very much in the air-

Tommy suddenly snapped his attention to Casey, "Are you really from the future?" He asked, and then cringed at how blunt his question was.

Casey tensed, expression faltering into something uncomfortable before it was quickly wiped away with careful neutrality a moment later, "Ah, yep. Still getting used to not living in the apocalypse anymore," he laughed, but it was a very awkward thing.

Shit, Tommy totally fucked up the vibes.

Move on, find a new topic that isn't drugs or time travel.

"You know I come from a different server?" Tommy would very much like to find a nice dirt hole to bury himself in.

Why did he willingly bring up the DreamSMP after already being put through the most boring interrogation about it by Donnie not even an hour ago?

It was too late now though, Cassandra was already responding to his ill thought out topic change.

She nodded, "Yes, Raphael told us about your unconventional arrival to the Hamato family," Cassandra confirmed with one word in particular leaving Tommy a tiny bit confused.

He tilted his head, "Hamato?"  

Both humans blinked at him in apparent shock, an incredulous look grew on Casey’s face, "They didn't tell you their last name?" His brows were furrowed, but the corners of his mouth were twitching up into something like a grin.

Tommy shook his head rapidly, "They have last names?!" He bit his tongue to stop himself from cursing very loudly at the sudden pain his outburst cost him.

Casey slapped his hands over his mouth with a muffled snort. Cassandra was not so modest, openly laughing.

Tommy held back a laugh of his own, letting out a much more painless chitter, "What? Technoblade doesn't have a last name either, and I made mine up when I was younger. I hardly think it was that much of a stretch to just assume they didn't have a last name." It wasn't that weird of a thing to assume, was it?

Casey made a curious noise, "You came up with your own last name?"

Pride made an appearance in Tommy’s chest, he grinned, "Yep. Middle names too. Tommy Careful Danger Kraken Innit, pretty fucking sick, innit?" He bragged.

Casey made a face at that, “I think you should reconsider the Careful part,” he suggested, sounding like he was only partially joking.

Tommy mimed an offended gasp, minus the actual gasping part, "How dare you. I am literally the most careful person ever. Careful's my middle name!" He refuted as loudly as he dared.

Smiling, Casey dropped the subject with a light scoff, "Alright, well what's your world like then? Do you have a New York?" He asked conversationally.

"No, but we had a L'Manberg and it was wonderful," Tommy reminisced, smile turning bittersweet.

Casey was attentive, but lacking the information hungry glint that made talking with Donnie so nerve-wracking, “What was it like?”

A couple blocks away, Cassandra was turned half away from them, palm up with a chickadee eating something out of her hand.

But Tommy’s focus was on Casey and his mind was on the unfinished symphony that was L’Manberg, “It was a place where we were free to do what we liked, free of Dream’s tyrannical rule. Wilbur, my older brother, was the leader, and I, his right hand man. We fought for that nation, but ultimately it- it was never meant to be,” Tommy tapered off, a sadness dulled by time and distance settling close to his heart.

A beat passed in quiet before Casey offered a tentative, “I’m sorry to hear that.”

Tommy looked away, watching the chickadees take turns landing on Cassandra’s outstretched fingers to peck seeds out of her palm, “Thanks,” he muttered flatly, tail flicking to curl against his side.

Neither of them seemed to know where to take the conversation after that. Watching Casey out of the corner of his eye, Tommy could see the teen staring at him with an intensity he must have learned from Cassandra.

Before Casey could say anything- if he was even going to- Tommy heard an artificial hum like the one coming from his hover stroller.

His head shot up, flicking his ears around to pinpoint the direction the noise was coming from and staring, “I think there’s something’s-” Tommy didn’t get to finish his warning before a rather turtle-shaped purple drone flew out of the trees and drifted to a hovering stop.

It was definitely Donnie's work, in fact, it was- holy shit, that was the robot friend he accidentally kicked off of Donnie's desk!

The drone zipped around, inspecting the people on the trail for no longer than a second each before halting in front of Tommy, "Woah, you're totally that new roommate dude, right? I'm Shelldon, and, like, I just flew ahead of Donnie to warn you that Raph is totes planning on grounding you when you get back. I'd start prepping the old apology speech if I were you," the drone named Shelldon rambled.

Unfortunately, Tommy was too busy being stunned by the fact that the drone was actually repaired to clock half the things being said.

Not until he noticed Cassandra nod amicably at something behind Tommy.

By which point it was already too late, as for the second time that day, someone grabbed the handles of his hover stroller and spun Tommy around.

Except this time Tommy wasn't able to stop his shriek as he came face to face with Donnie's irritated expression.

Regret, so much regret, Tommy thought, clenching his teeth to stop any pained whines from slipping out as he faced the consequences brought about by his loud nature.

Fractured ribs were the worst.

He barely caught Casey’s greeting shout of, "Donatello!" Through his pain-induced daze.

Although the pain wasn’t as bad as it was during the first week, it still sucked. 

Donatello sighed, “You know, you really have to stop running off without telling anybody. This is, what, the fourth time you’ve disappeared like this? Five if you count the petting zoo incident. Seriously, I believe you currently contribute to forty percent of Raph’s chasm,” he drawled and Tommy finally cracked his eyes back open.

Tommy chittered sheepishly, “Oops?” He offered half heartedly as he proceeded to sink so low in his seat he was basically fused with it.

“Hold on-” Casey Jr waved his hands, “-I thought you said Michelangelo could message you!” He exclaimed with an accusatory point.

If possible, Tommy’s head sunk even further, “In my defense… Uh…” Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Donnie’s brows rose, “I am awaiting your excuse…?” He rolled one hand in a carry on gesture.

Except Tommy honestly had very little to say for himself at the minute, he genuinely hadn’t remembered if he’d gotten around to giving Mikey his comm number yet, “I seriously thought I already gave him my number. And it's fine, I'm not gonna get fucking kidnapped again, I just needed some fresh air. What's the big deal anyway?" He finally gave his defensive explanation.

That was not the correct thing to say if Donnie’s ticked off expression was any indication, "What's the big deal, you ask? The big deal, Tomathy, is that every time you run off without telling someone first, my dumb-dumb brothers immediately jump to the worst possible scenario. If you're going to live with us, that means you must abide by house rules, such as; always tell someone where you're going, and do not leave the lair alone- especially if the person in question is injured and borderline defenseless," Donnie ranted, waving his hands around in erratic movements as he spoke.

Frustration boiled beneath Tommy’s fur, “I am not defenseless, you fuck. Fuck off with that shit, I didn’t rip that asshole’s throat out just to be called defenseless,” he spat out with bared teeth, a growl in his voice, and his tail lashing angrily.

Guess he and Donnie weren’t on as decent terms as Tommy thought. They obviously got on each other's nerves too easily, olive branches be damned.

Donnie didn’t back down, “You are a raccoon with a fractured rib. Statistically speaking, toddlers could best you in a fight,” he scoffed.

“Statistically speaking, you’re a dick and I hate you,” Tommy retorted without hesitation.

The look Donnie sent him was almost disdainful, “Oh really? Then explain to me why you’re still using my invention to get around,” he shot back just as readily, fingers flexing at his sides.

Casey Jr got in between them before Tommy had the chance to provide a hateful response, “That’s enough!” Casey shouted, pushing them away from each other.

Shelldon was quick to zip in beside the human, “Yeah, so not cool, dudes. Both of you.” The drone shook his head disapprovingly at Tommy and Donnie.

Indignant anger at Donnie still burned at every inch of Tommy’s horrible little body- or maybe that was just the rib pain- and he couldn’t help but hiss, “He started it-”

A hard look from Casey was enough to shut Tommy up, “Really? Because to me it looked like you both started it. But especially you for not telling the team where you were going and then lying to me about their ability to contact you. That’s the kind of idiotic behaviour that could get you killed where I come from,” he scolded and Tommy was starkly reminded of how it felt to get chewed out by Wilbur after running his mouth in front of Dream or trying to pull off a reckless stunt in battle.

Tommy flinched, the words dying on his tongue.

Cassandra must have gotten bored of watching from the sidelines, because then she chimed in too, “Regardless of your capabilities, a wise warrior knows better than to advance into unknown territory while injured.”

Tommy’s ears angled backwards, “Fucking hell, I get it, I’m an idiot who shouldn't have left the lair. You don’t all need to- to- to gang up on me like this, I get it," he muttered bitterly.

All this over wanting fresh air and trees.

Donatello peered at him over Casey Jr’s shoulder, looking less frustrated and more so generally unimpressed, “Do you get it?” His tone carried insulting levels of doubt.

It took all of Tommy’s fragile self control not to spit an insult in his dumb face and instead ground out a tense, “Yes. I do.” Dickhead, he very carefully refrained from adding on.

And when Donnie stepped around Casey to get to Tommy, the human let him.

Donnie held out a hand like he was expecting something, “Give me your phone, I’m adding everyone to your contacts,” he ordered, expression and tone equally flat.

Discomfort squeezed Tommy’s insides, but he found himself summoning his comm with shaking paws and handing it over anyway, “It’s a communicator,” he corrected quietly in the only act of defiance he felt capable of in that moment.

Time dragged on at a snail’s pace as Donnie typed into the communicator. Tommy was completely unable to tear his eyes away from his comm for even a second, distressed anxiety building stronger the longer he went without the item tucked safely away with the rest of his possessions.

He felt like he needed to do something- preferably something involving taking his comm back by force, but that wasn’t really an option at the minute.

If only the cool bumpy disk wasn’t a gift from Donnie, Tommy could really go for that brand of distraction right now. But since he’d sooner die than give Donnie something else to lord over his head after this shitshow, the best Tommy could do was to subtly move a paw to his mouth and start gnawing, simply putting up with the weird feeling of his tongue and teeth against his sensitive paw pad.

Finally, after what felt like way too much time, Donnie handed the comm back, dropping it in front of the paw that Tommy wasn’t actively chewing on.

Tommy couldn’t slap his paws over the communicator fast enough, immediately sending it back to its current holding place in his inventory.

The pressure building in his chest popped once he felt the reassurance of having his belongings on him again, Tommy almost sighed in relief. Everything important to him was tucked safely within reach to him and him alone.

Donnie tapped the glowing screen on his forearm, “Casey and Cassandra, I thank you for keeping an eye on Tommy, but Shelldon and I will take it from here,” he concurred, giving the humans a nod before turning sharply on the balls of his feet.

The hover stroller followed Donnie at a close distance down the park trail, and after an experimental sideways lean, Tommy discovered that the device wasn’t responding to his movements anymore.

With Donnie’s mech shell to him, Tommy felt confident enough to swipe the nice bumpy disk out of his inventory and shoved it directly into his mouth.

Until his eyes met Shelldon’s and Tommy froze. He gave the drone a wide eyed look, trying to telepathically communicate how badly Tommy needed him to not draw Donnie’s attention to this behaviour.

It was uncertain whether or not Shelldon actually understood what Tommy was attempting to convey, but stifling silence reigned supreme regardless.

Tommy bit down on the rubber disk, but even that wasn't enough to ease his mounting anxiety.

Once it became abundantly clear that Donnie had no intention of talking, Tommy took it upon himself to remedy the awful silence.

Transferring the bumpy trinket to sit between his paws, Tommy looked anywhere but at Donnie and Shelldon, "So… How did you find me?" He kept his voice low to disguise the lump in his throat. 

Donnie didn't look back at him as he supplied his dry response of, "I designed the stroller with a tracker pre-embedded in the design. Good to know I wasn't being paranoid."

Tommy's stomach flipped, he regretted ever opening his mouth.

Was he supposed to apologize, or would that make things worse? Dream usually made Tommy apologize to him after he spoke out of turn or did something he wasn't supposed to do, but it also usually wasn't enough to avoid punishment masquerading as teaching Tommy a ‘friendly’ lesson.

Then again, Dream definitely wasn’t a good point of reference for what to do in response to someone being mad at you. Considering Dream was a power hungry psycho with a god complex and Donnie was just- well, Donnie was just a bit of a jerk sometimes, it didn’t seem like the most accurate comparison.

Tommy rubbed his palms over the bumpy trinket as he thought.

He didn’t want to apologize to Donatello- but also he did? Ugh, he didn’t know what he wanted to do. He just wanted to stop feeling so anxious.

Things didn’t get any better by the time they dropped into the sewer for a less populated route back to the lair. Shelldon tried to lighten the mood a few times, but each attempt fell flatter than the last as Tommy found himself unable to talk and Donnie responded only in short, unenthusiastic sentences.

The loss of fresh air and sunlight made Tommy feel ten times worse, a hot mess of disappointment, frustration, and shame burning in his gut.

And when they arrived in the lair to see Mikey’s stressed smile, Leo’s carefully relaxed posture, and Raph’s furrowed brow, Tommy decided that he would like nothing more than to disappear.

Tommy clutched his rubbery disk like a lifeline, “Hey, guys…” He greeted awkwardly, tail swishing noisily across the tough fabric of the stroller seat.

Turns out those two words were the catalyst the turtles were waiting for as things instantly burst into motion.

Leo quipped something dumb and lighthearted that Tommy couldn't pay attention to for the life of him, Raph was demanding to know why he thought it was a good idea to wander off- as if Tommy didn't already get reamed out enough by Donnie. And Mikey was looking between everyone with an increasingly more upset expression.

Whatever exasperated speech Raph had lined up for Tommy went right through his ringing ears, and it was the most Tommy could do to keep his unfocused vision pointed in Raph’s general direction.

Hopefully he’d tire himself out soon and Tommy could spend the rest of the day staring blankly at the medbay wall while rethinking his life choices.

He latched vaguely on to new movement, eyes loosely tracking Mikey as the short turtle tapped Raph on the arm, mouth moving with more words that fell right out of Tommy’s brain.

And then Mikey was walking in Tommy’s direction, grabbing the side of the hover stroller and pulling him down the hallway to the living room.

Tommy felt a little more aware of his surroundings by the time Mikey kicked Splinter out of the living room with the explanation of, “Doctor Feelings has an appointment scheduled for right now, so you gotta move it, Pops.”

Shortly after Splinter left, Mikey also left- though he wasn’t gone for more than twenty seconds before reappearing dressed in a dark orange turtle neck, jeans, and big round glasses perched on his face.

He had a metal stick in one hand and something rectangular and old looking in the other. With a resounding press of a button on the old thing vaguely resembling a cassette, cozy background music started playing from the speakers.

Mikey folded his arms behind his back and smiled pleasantly, “Good afternoon! My name is Doctor Feelings. Welcome to my seminar, Talk It Out,” he announced as the screen changed slides to a photo of Raph and Leo sitting on beanbags opposite of each other, obviously in the middle of a conversation.

The picture was edited with plenty of sparkles and big pink bubble letters over top reading- you guessed it- Talk It Out.

Mikey moved to the next slide with a click.

A drawing of a blond raccoon obviously meant to be Tommy took up the screen, his arms crossed and an exaggerated pout on his face, "I've noticed that you've been having some difficulties partaking in healthy and open communication with your peers." Mikey tapped the screen with his pointing stick.

Tommy was honestly just stunned, "I'm sorry, what? " Baffled laughter sat on the tip of his tongue, waiting to be let out.

Mikey’s serene demeanor was unwavering, “This is that seminar on healthy communication I promised you. And what better time for it than right now after not communicating your idea to go outside? Of course, if you need a minute before we get into it, that’s alright too. You just have to remember to communicate that to me, because the only way people will be able to know and understand your needs is if you tell them,” he explained calmly.

Tommy was almost surprised to find that there was nothing accusatory in Mikey’s tone. He didn’t seem mad about Tommy’s little disappearing act, there was none of the agitation pulling at his expression that suggested a pissed off rant was on its way.

Idly twisting the bumpy rubber disk around with his paws, Tommy let the quiet music wash over him and untense his muscles, “Suppose I did ask for this,” he confirmed, a little awkwardly, nodding for Mikey to continue.

With that confirmation out of the way, Mikey clicked to the next slide, "Lesson one, Always avoid assumptions,” he recited, tapping the words that had appeared on the screen without looking.

Tommy frowned, "I don't make assump-"

His interruption got him a light whack on the forehead with Mikey's pointing stick, "Wrong! Yes you do, everyone does. But by being conscious and aware about these assumptions, you can avoid misunderstandings. Misunderstandings such as thinking you're staying here out of pity as opposed to us caring about you because you are our friend. You need to learn to recognize when things are just in your head," Mikey disputed with his calm therapist vibes turned up to the max.

Well alright then. Tommy felt like he should be writing this down somewhere. If only he wasn’t a fucking raccoon.

Mikey moved on to the next slide, once again tapping on the words, “Lesson two, if something is upsetting you, the best thing to do is to say something about it,” he emphasized with a meaningful look that made Tommy feel very called out.

Tommy wrinkled his snout, "Like what?" It all seemed a bit easier said than done.

"Hm, how about this- let's say you're hanging out with someone and they make a joke that upsets you, what do you say?" Mikey queried.

Oh, hypotheticals. Tommy could do hypotheticals, "I tell them to fuck off," he answered confidently.

Mikey tapped his pointing stick against his other palm, "You could do that, or you could tell them that what they said made you feel uncomfortable," he gently corrected.

"But what if they don't listen?" And why would they listen? Tommy thought an unspoken addition to his followup question with a small frown.

"Then you walk away. You don't owe them anything if they're not going to respect your input," Mikey answered simply.

The solution felt weirdly foreign to Tommy for how simple it was. He'd long since grown used to arguments on the DreamSMP, where everyone involved would keep going until someone finally drew a sword or axe to signal that they were done using words.

That was the part where you walked (or ran) away from a conversation, not after someone made a joke that you didn't like.

Tommy leaned back slightly with a furrowed brow, "Seriously? But what if they're saying some super fucked up shit, like- like- I don't know, they said they hate Tubbo. Surely I don’t just walk away then, right?” Tommy would never let someone get away with Tubbo slander, unless the person spreading slander was himself.

"I'm not saying you can't defend your friend's honour, but it's important to know when to step away from things. Especially when those things are hurting you,” Mikey clarified.

A slight frown was ever present on Tommy’s face as he considered the words Mikey had left to sink in.

He wasn’t even sure he could pinpoint what exactly it was that made the statement feel so diametrically wrong to who he was as a person. The idea of walking away from someone because they said something that upset him was almost enough to make his insides churn.

After all, how many times had Wilbur shot barbed words intended to cut straight to Tommy’s heart when they were in Pogtopia? What would have happened if Tommy decided to walk away any of those times?

Obviously Tommy sticking around hadn’t been enough to stop Wilbur from blowing up L’Manberg and telling Phil to put a sword through his chest- but how much worse would things have been if Tommy just left.

How much further would Wilbur have gone? Would he have killed himself thinking Tommy was a good for nothing traitor who deserted when things got tough?

It all made Tommy feel ill to consider.

How could he step away from something when the consequences of that decision might hurt him so much more?

His ears flicked at the telltale click of the slides changing again.

Mikey tapped his pointing stick against the screen with a slightly excessive level of force, “And last but not least, lesson three. Tell at least one other person if you plan on going somewhere and how long you intend on being out for,” Mikey stressed emphatically, jolting Tommy back out of his thoughts.

Tommy stared at the words projected on the screen with a wry sense of humour pulling on his expression as he wondered just how last minute of an addition that lesson was. He wouldn’t put it past Mikey to have slapped it onto the presentation as soon as he realized Tommy had left the lair alone.

Mikey cleared his throat before elaborating further, “It doesn’t matter if you’re only leaving for ten minutes, it’s always a good idea to communicate your plans beforehand to avoid misunderstandings like what happened earlier today.”

Tommy let his head droop with a sigh, storing his bumpy trinket away in his inventory and resting his chin on his paws, “Yeah, I know. I just saw that picture Cassandra posted of them in the park and I left without thinking… Sorry, Mike,” He mumbled the last two words, looking away.

“It’s okay, Tom, I forgive you, and now you know better for next time. But why did you leave? If you wanted to hang out with Cassandra and Casey, you could have just asked one of us to text them,” Mikey dropped his therapist voice, just sounding a little confused now.

Tommy shook his head, “No, I honestly didn’t even mean to meet up with them, I just really missed trees, man. And just plants in general. This place is great and all, but it’s hard to feel at home when I have to go thirty minutes away just to see a tree.” And then he was scolded by Donnie, Casey Jr, and Raph for it.

And sure, he kind of understood why they were so frustrated by his behaviour- but he didn’t have to be scolded three times for the message to sink in!

He let his eyes drift back to Mikey to spot the teen staring at the ground with a thoughtful expression, fingers curled and pressed to his chin, just under his mouth.

Doing a bit of thinking of his own, Tommy remembered something he’d been meaning to bring up for ages. And hey, what better time than right after being on the receiving end of a seminar all about communication?

“Hey, Mikey, why’ve you been acting all strange around me ever since I got back from the Battle Nexus?” He cut straight to the chase, no preamble or dramatics.

Mikey jumped, incidentally whacking the glasses off his face and then scrambling to catch them before they could hit the ground, “What? What makes you say that?” He laughed just a touch too loud to pass as natural, fiddling with the hinges of his glasses.

Tommy gave him a flat look, “Michael.”

Mikey’s shoulders slumped, “Yeesh, I’m supposed to be getting you to communicate, not the other way around,” he muttered, puffing his cheeks up into a childish pout.

“Yeah, I guess I’m cracked like that. Now what’s been on your mind, Mike? Tell me, please, it’s been bothering me for weeks.” Tommy kind of tried to do an imitation of Mikey’s therapy voice, but ended up dropping it almost immediately.

Mikey blew out the air in his cheeks, “Man, I thought I was being sneaky about it. I’m sorry if I worried you, Tom, I just felt like I needed to make up for everything. I know you said it wasn’t my fault, but I still feel really bad about it,” he finally confessed.

Tommy stared at him, felt his expression eventually soften with a sigh as he sat upright, "Mikey, I need you to listen to me very carefully. None of this is your fault, so knock it off already, would you? I'm fine, shit's all healing fine, you don't need to get all hover-y with me. Here, I'll even use your quirky communication skills; It makes me feel…" Tommy glanced up as he searched his brain for the right word.

He gave a short hum when he found the word he wanted, "Shmorf. It makes me feel very shmorf whenever you act weird around me. You don’t want me to start feeling shmorf, do you?” Tommy asked with his totally real, not made up word.

…Okay, so shmorf was a little bit made up- but it just fit his feelings towards the situation so well! How could he not want to use shmorf as an adjective?

A startled laugh spilled from Mikey, “You’re right, I’d never want you to start feeling shmorf, that would be plurful. Tommy, I promise to never make you feel shmorf ever again.” He laid a solemn hand over his heart.

Tommy grinned widely, “Thank you, Michael. I promise never to make you feel plurful,” he pledged in return, lifting a paw to his own heart to express the genuine nature of his words.

Mikey set his glasses aside and shucked his whole Doctor Feelings outfit to a far corner. His expression was bright and sunny and almost enough to make up for the fact that there wasn't any greenery in the lair, "Well I think that was a successful seminar. What do you say we order a celebratory pizza?" Mikey suggested, phone already in hand.

Tommy leaned forward with a chitter, “Yes. Pizza, yes, please-” he shifted more of his weight forward with a slight frown, “-Can you tell Donnie to turn off baby mode first? I need my movement back,” he complained with a flicking tail.

“You know it! Donnie’s no match for my puppy dog eyes,” Mikey claimed, grabbing onto the handles of Tommy’s stroller as he ran out the living room.

Tommy’s claws dug into the tough fabric of his seat to rebalance himself in response to the sudden momentum, an aborted yelp catching in his throat.

Still, Tommy found his grin swiftly returning to his face as Mikey ran through the lair shouting at the top of his lungs in search of Donatello.

---

“Is it really time? It’s not gonna hurt, is it?” Tommy was situated in the blanket nest Raph made, Captain Snuggles at his side and rubber disk in his front paws.

Leo wiped a small pair of scissors down with a sanitary wipe, "Yeah, don't worry about it. It'll just be a weird tugging sensation at most, trust me," he reassured as he tossed the wipe into a waste bin and approached the cot.

Tommy continued to eye the scissors warily, but held his arm out to allow Leo access to the sutures regardless of his nerves, "We never really got stitches for anything on my old server. If you couldn't fix it with a bandaid and some rest, you just downed a health or regen pot, way quicker than this shit," he rambled, a natural byproduct of the fluttering anxiety in his gut.

Leo held his proffered arm steady with one hand while the other brought the scissors in to snip the sutures, "Mhm? Sounds convenient," He mumbled distractedly, the majority of his focus obviously on taking out the stitches.

It was encouragement enough for Tommy to keep talking, "It really is. I don't know how you guys survive without potions- okay, no, that's a slight exaggeration-” sutures started being pulled out of his arm, “-but seriously, man, I'd be dead, like, twenty times over, at least. You don’t want to know how many times I’ve been shot by skeletons. Spoiler alert- it's a lot, I swear those bastards have aimbot," the words streamed out of his mouth without second thought or filter.

Leo pulled the last suture free, disposing it in the bin and dropping the scissors on the trolley beside him, "And you are now officially free to frolic as you please. How does it feel, hermano?" He stepped back and pushed the trolley off to the side, though his attention remained on Tommy the whole time.

Tommy did a quick cat stretch, happily noting the lack of any of the pain or pulling he’d had to deal with for the past six weeks, “Feels fucking awesome.” He sat up on his haunches with a sudden gasp.

Even before getting the words out, Tommy could feel his tail swishing with wild excitement, “Does this mean I can finally change back? I don’t have to be short anymore?” He double checked.

He couldn’t wait to have his height advantage back again.

Leo nodded, “Go for it- actually, what do you say we go to the living room first, I think Mikey wanted to show you something. And then everyone can see your cool new form at the same time.” There was something slightly off about the suggestion, like there was something else Leo wasn’t telling him.

Tommy squinted at Leo, trying to pick apart his faux casual demeanor, “...Alright. But only if you carry me,” he negotiated, putting both Captain Snuggles and his rubber disk into his inventory before clambering over the nest wall and crouching in wait on the edge of the cot.

“As you wish!” Leo agreed gleefully, and Tommy realized a second too late that this may have been a mistake on his part.

With a cheeky grin on his face, Leo scooped Tommy up into his arms, “Just remember you asked for this,” he sing-songed, adjusting Tommy to a one armed hold so that he could ruffle the fur on the raccoon’s head playfully.

Tommy nipped at his fingers once out of principal, but made no real moves outside of that to escape Leo’s friendly harassment, “You’re a real clingy guy, you know that?” Tommy grumbled, staunchly ignoring the fact that he was actively tucking his face into Leo’s shoulder.

“Not you though?” Leo asked with audible amusement in his voice.

A purr rumbled in Tommy’s chest, “No. I do not cling to people, I merely go about my day and others just flock to me. You are distracting me from my goals right now, you are the problem.” His rant came out slightly muffled from having his chin resting solidly on Leo’s shoulder and refusing to lift his head by even an inch to speak unimpeded.

What? He was comfy!

Tommy bravely withstood several more head pats and ear scratches on the journey to the living room.

"Aw, man. I can't believe I didn't get around to visiting you guys before now. Stupid homework- he's such a cutie like this," April's voice almost made Tommy jump, purely because he wasn't expecting her to be in the lair.

Tommy scrambled up to perch haphazardly on Leo’s shoulder, turning around to face everyone with his hind legs on Leo’s shell, "There's nothing cute about me, you bastard, take that back before I start rage crying.” Tommy, ignoring absolutely everyone else currently in the living room, dedicated his full attention to glaring at April.

April’s poorly suppressed smile as she leaned casually against Raph suggested she wasn’t feeling very intimidated, "Well, I'm glad to see you're feeling better now," she expressed earnestly.

And, well, Tommy supposed she could be let off the hook for now.

He took a second to actually survey the living room, noting with muted surprise that not only were all of the usual inhabitants of the lair present- but so were Casey and Cassandra.

They'd only stopped by the lair a handful of times after Tommy’s little solo trip to the surface, but he liked to think they were slowly becoming friends.

Tommy was now realizing just how many people were in the living room. Seven, not including himself or Leo.

In a rare moment of bashfulness, Tommy slunk back, clinging to the lip of Leo’s shell with only his front paws, “Ayup, there sure are a lot of you,” he commented, beginning to have second thoughts about agreeing to wait before changing forms.

He’s been a tiny puntable raccoon for so long, what if he couldn’t change back? 

A loud caw drew Tommy’s attention to where Chat was perched on Raph’s shell, both wings free and flapping, “Scaredyinnit,” the crow mocked, beady eyes shining with mischief.

In the end, that was all it took to erase Tommy’s doubts. He launched himself off of Leo’s shell with a furious shout of, “I’m not scared, I was just saying there’s a bunch more people than I’m used to!” Tommy flailed midair with a strangled yelp as he very suddenly noticed the sizable distance he’d created between himself and the floor.

Panic surged through his veins and, deciding what better time than right now, Tommy squeezed his eyes shut and filled his head with thoughts of his human self.

A weird tingling sensation spread throughout his limbs and not even a second later his feet touched the ground.

Tommy was pretty sure the only reason he didn't immediately faceplant was due to hands clamping around his shoulders and holding him steady.

He let most of his weight be held up by the hands as he both mentally and physically adjusted to standing on two much longer legs.

Leo’s light chuckle reached his ears, "Woah-hoh, way to jump into it, bud."

Tommy opened his eyes, stared in amazement at all the normal sized people in the normal sized living room, and then looked over his shoulder at Leo, who was still holding onto him like he might fall at any moment.

The wild grin that spread across Tommy’s face was unavoidable, "I'm a person!" He cheered, spinning fully around to tackle Leo in a hug.

Leo hugged him back just as tightly and without hesitation, "You sure are- oof-"

Someone else rocketed into their hug, "Group hug!" Mikey shouted, wrapping his arms around Tommy and Leo with a happy hum.

Raph was the next to join in, pulling the three of them into a hug that lifted their feet off the ground.

Tommy felt lighter than air, his purrs a constant vibration through his entire being.

His eyes landed on Donnie. The turtle was standing awkwardly off to the side, looking impressively unsure of himself.

Well that wouldn't do.

At that moment, Tommy came to a decision. Was it a good decision? Who knows, not him, but it was his decision, so it was one he'd stand by.

“Oi, Don,” he called out.

Donnie’s eyes snapped to meet Tommy’s, the bridge of his nose wrinkling with a slightly subdued sense of confusion.

Tommy just about rolled his eyes, "Get the fuck over here, mate. Haven't you seen a group hug before?" He urged the prick to join in through some good old fashioned light ribbing.

Because Donnie might be a jerk and his least favourite roommate- but he did also make Tommy a sick ass hover stroller, entirely unprompted, and then also gave him a really cool rubber disk.

Tommy felt like that was reason enough to overlook a couple of things. And maybe this time he'd actually put in the effort to get along with Donnie.

Apparently Donnie didn't see things the same way though, because he then gave Tommy a very weird look, "I am not going to join your group hug," he denied outright.

Unfortunately for him, April was on Tommy’s side.

She grabbed him by the elbow and just about threw him into the group hug, "One group hug ain't gonna kill you, Donnie," she teased as she herself joined in on the hug.

There, Tommy sank into the group hug, much better.

They must have stayed like that for a full minute at least (not that Tommy was complaining) before Raph lowered their feet back to the ground and the group hug broke apart.

This time when Tommy’s feet touched the ground, he had very little difficulty staying upright. It still felt a bit odd, he’d long since grown used to having short, stubby limbs, but it was a relief to feel more like himself again.

Tommy took a moment to look himself over, happy to see his classic red and white shirt, moderately less happy to see short blond fur spreading down to his hands and a striped tail behind him. But you know what? At least he was finally taller than everyone again.

“Ahem,” Donnie said, not actually clearing his throat.

Tommy’s ears flicked in his direction a second before he managed to tear his gaze away from his dark furred hands to acknowledge Donnie with a slight tilt of his head.

Donnie looked like he’d just been asked to swallow a bunch of nails, expression pinched and filled with reluctant displeasure, “Oh, look, I have, entirely my own volition, bought a gift for you-" a mechanical arm popped out of his shell holding a potted plant, "-this is a parlor palm, they require little to no sunlight and require water every one to two weeks. Here." The plant was shoved into Tommy’s hands.

Tommy stumbled slightly from the slightly excessive level of force Donnie used. The clay pot was dusty and cool against palms, Tommy held it close and sent Donnie a flat look, "This was Mikey's idea." It wasn't a question, it was obvious.

Hasty denials spilled from Mikey, but Donnie had no qualms with speaking over him, "It sure was," he confirmed without a modicum of shame.

Good lad.

Tommy dipped his snout into the fronds, soaking up their fresh scent, "Thank you, best friend," he joked with a sly smile in Donnie's direction.

Paying no mind to the dry look he got in return, Tommy sent the potted plant to sit in his inventory for the time being, "Thank you, guys, seriously. For everything. I don't say it enough, but I really do appreciate everything you lot have done for me." He looked out at everyone in the living room, gratitude filling his heart as he grinned softly at the people who went above and beyond for the annoying little shit who'd invaded their home.

Mikey looked like he might've been starting to tear up, "Don't mention it, Tom-Tom. Anything for my little bro," he cooed, practically attaching himself to Tommy’s side with a terrifyingly strong grip.

Tommy threw one arm out for stability while the other secured itself around Mikey’s shell, “Glad I can always count on you, king.”

Something dinged very close to Tommy’s ear.

Mikey, clinging to Tommy with just his legs locked around the older teen’s middle, took out his phone, “Pizza’s here!” He announced.

Several people called out, “I got it!”  

Leo shoved Raph to get a running head start for the ladder, but then he made the crucial mistake of looking back over his shoulder to gloat.

Cassandra swept his legs out from under him, sending Leo tumbling face first to the floor, “Eat floor, turtle!” She cackled, stepping over him only to be immediately tackled by Raph.

While the three of them started a full out brawl on the living room floor, the air around Tommy’s head was disturbed, ruffling his fur as something landed on top of him.

Keeping his head very still, Tommy looked up to see Chat making itself comfortable on his head.

Tommy let out a quiet huff, reaching up with the hand not on Mikey to scritch the underside of the crows neck, “You’d better not stick your little claws in my cranium,” he muttered, narrowing his eyes.

Chat narrowed its eyes right back, very obviously considering taking Tommy’s warning as a challenge.

Cassandra's victorious shout pulled his attention away from the bird.

She was standing atop a groaning Raph and Leo, arms up in the air and a feral grin on her face, "You have been bested, and now it is I who shall carry out the honorable task of retrieving the pizza!" She shouted, unaware of the fact that April and Casey Jr had just walked back into the room with the coveted boxes of pizza and breadsticks.

April surveyed the carnage with a single raised brow, "We got the food."

Cassandra whirled around, devastation crossing her face when her eyes landed on the very much retrieved pizza, "No…" She whispered, falling to her knees and eliciting another pained noise from Leo.

Splinter walked over his fallen sons to deliver a comforting pat to her arm, "There there, I am sure you will get to the next pizza in time."

Tommy waddled up to April and Casey, still heavily encumbered by the lovable leeches known as Mikey and Chat, "What kinds have you got?"

Mirth twinkled in April's eyes, "How about we head over to the table and you can look for yourself." She inclined her head towards the mentioned table.

Tommy had to stop himself from nodding, "Okay, lady. Whatever you say," he agreed as he began to awkwardly hobble his way to the table.

"I know you know my name, boy." April narrowed her eyes at him as she set her boxes down on the table.

Casey was right behind her, putting his boxes down with the same warm smile that had been present on his face during the whole exchange.

Tommy shrugged and started opening up boxes, "Maybe I do, maybe I don't. Hey, Chat, do you want any of this?" He gestured to the variety of pizza.

"I crave flesh," was Chat's unsurprisingly edgy reply.

Tommy rolled his eyes and grabbed a slice of meatlovers to share, "Of course you do, fucking freak," he insulted while picking off bits of sausage to give to the crow.

It didn't take long for everyone else to make their way over to the food. Eventually, Mikey detached himself from Tommy to grab several slices of pizza for himself.

And before long, Tommy was sitting between Mikey and Raph with everyone else sitting wherever they could find space to. Friendly conversation and laughter filled the room. And with his belly full and the beginnings of drowsiness weighing on his eyelids, Tommy couldn't help but think, this is what home looks like.