Healer Cj Au - Blog Posts

Behold more rough doodles shenanigans of our fav apocalypse kids

Now make your own context ppls 😂

Ah yes, kids will be kids even in an apocalypse haha..until they’re not here anymore. | Next >

The kids ref:

P.S: training started as early as five (if the kid made it that long) this is cuz, even if they never made it to the frontlines ( if they got older they were allowed to specialised elsewhere like mechanic work, physical trauma care, full on wilderness training to be a scout etc etc. not everyone was a soldier ) first aid, wilderness, combat skills were essential for obvious reasons.

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Of course it first started out as very kid friendly games like ninja hide and seek and what not. Basically, think of their training as their version of our education. Also I didn’t include this but all the kids were taught to read and write as part of that training. Literacy is importance guys!

Hi I saw you and @1cat200 mystic crossover battle and I loved the ending! Is it possible for you to draw more of @1cat200 s oc Kana spending time with Kana please?

HI sorry this took so long! But ta-dah! One Kana and Cj interaction as requested aha. I give my thanks to @1cat200 for some tips for this interaction

Fic: Stand ready

Tw: for suicidal idealisation and overall semi-unhealthy coping mechanisms

A Storm is brewing.

Or alternatively, Future!Mikey’s teachings on the importance of healthy emotional regulation vs Future!Leo’s influence of bury the pain away with laughs: Fight!

Or even more alternatively, a look into Cj’s no good, very terrible mental health :’D

_

Cj was making his rounds again. Round and round the large platform that served as a living room, up the stairs towards the boarded up subway entrance.Look left, look right. Look up. Always check up. Go back down, circle around the living room, switch up one or two locations for unpredictability then repeat. Armoured Boots gliding along the concrete tiles in practiced silence.

He knows he doesn't have to do it. Logically speaking he knows there is nothing there. As soon as he could, Donatello or-uh Donnie had this place rigged to galore with motion sensors, cameras, the occasional laser grid that if anyone asked, Case would deny ever being there. Nope. Nuh-uh he saw nothing. Scouts honour, whatever that meant. In the future he had come from, they were always saying funny things like that. Nice to see it remained even now. Funnier now that he finally understood those references. Kidna.

Heck, Cj was there, he even helped wire (under close supervision from the genius but helped nonetheless) some of the circuitry together for a few of those cameras. Even younger and less experienced, the purple softshell was still leagues ahead of whatever modern human society could concoct. And alongside a smattering of future foresight here and there, Casey was pretty sure not even a rat (sorry Master Splinter) could crawl through the grills without Donnie knowing.

But something about today makes the boiling rage-guilt-homesickness-why why why did you leave me?-scream louder, rebelling against the very idea of joining the sleeping family pile together in the living room.

So weapon in hand, Cj walks. Forcing himself into the familiar exhaustion of patrol. Lest he end up kicking one of them or break down crying or say something he would regret or all of the above. Either way none great options. They will welcome him, this he knows. He knows. But here, right now there is absolutely nothing that he hated more than that. Which was absolutely the fuck why he had to go.

(“Master Michelangelo No! You’re gonna-!” He tries to run towards the glowing golden figure, he has to do something. Anything. If he could just pour even a little of his own mystic into his uncle-dad- oh fuckthey’llnevergetto talkboutwhyhecalledhimdad-

But a steady blue grips at his shoulder and holds him back. It smiles sadly. NononoPaSensei pleaseno- Casey wants to wail but the words won’t come. -I can’t go through this again.

Casey can pinpoint exactly when that crackling, soothing fire roars, scorching louder than it ever has, before sputtering out, warm golden-orange swallowed by the uncompromising void the boy had so come to hate, mere seconds before the spotted turtle turns, winks. And shatters into the wind.

Somewhere distantly, he can feel unyielding, passionate green gutter out and shrivel up like the leaves they fry up to eat. So much death. Too much void. And that was only the ones he could feelrightnow- oh fuckPush it down. Push it down.

“Casey..” The pit in his stomach grows. No. But the words choke in his throat and his feet glue themselves into the ruined ground. Damn it! Why can’t he move!?

“..Grab a slice!” The slider does not follow. He hangs back, smiling. Like a burden has been lifted from his shoulders.

Cj can feel exactly when that comforting, fiery, electrifying blue flickers dangerously low, because despite what Pa himself thinks. It was never gone. Never.

But it fizzles out now.

And all Casey can do now is watch in tandem as that disgusting, searing red torches away the man who has guided him his whole life. There is no way to survive this. The medic thinks numbly. He has bandaged blackened, crumbing body tissue he dare not identity from survivors (not for long) just grazed by that. Thing. The facts are in front of Casey. There.Is.No.Way.

He’s not as smart as Uncle Tello, not quick with his words like Pa , or as compassionate like D-Uncle Mi, neither is he relentless as Mom nor resourceful as Auntie April. He’s only always been emotional which is why he has to push it down,down, down.

So he can only scream and scream and scream as the golden-orange that has cradled him all his life carries him far, far away.

Why did you send me away?

Why didn’t you let me help?

Why didn’t you come with me?)

Dee hisses, turning his face away form Case in discomfort. Case panics, causing him to stumble back as the tangle of limbs stirs slightly. Oh shit, he always forgot what a light sleeper both Donatellos were. Immediately, Cj claps his hands over his mouth. Muffling his ragged breathing that had unknowingly pitched itself into high pitched whines while he took that involuntary trip down memory lane.

Heart beating furiously. Even dampened, his hushed breathing still punctuates the silence of the lair. In and out Case. A voice that sounds suspiciously like Uncle Mi echoes in his mind. Shut the fuck up. He snarls back, like a cornered animal. You don’t get to nag me. You’re dead.

Before the sting of regret immediately slaps him in the face. Ohmigosh how can he think that? Mortified, he buries his head into his hands. Ok new plan. Patrol clearly wasn’t going to cut it anymore. He had to do something else. Gingerly, the teen peeks through his fingers to look back at the group, grateful to see that the soft-shell ’s face had once again gone slack the way only proper sleep could do.

With a sigh of relief, Case then marches towards to the sleeping pile. Cj clenches and unclenches his jaw, trying to work out the very words stuck in his throat. “I.. I..” Cmon Casey, he grouses to himself. Fists clenching. Get it together. Just say this once so you can get it over with.

"I.. I’m sorry. " The teen finally spits out, standing over the sleeping faces of humans, turtles and rat alike. So young and so painfully free of worry. "I know you’re not them. And I..” His breath hitches. Years of training and experience kicks in to even out his breathing. Uneven meant loud. Loud meant danger. Deep breathe in, deep breathe out. Deep Sigh. Now talk.

“.. But the people I’m angry at aren’t here. And I miss them so much. I miss everything so much. And that’s so fucked I know.” Casey groans, pausing to quickly scrub away the tears. Terrified that if even one fell, it would somehow wake the sleeping pile up.

“I should have died. I know I should have died. Im just some stupid kid who got lucky enough to be loved by powerful people like you. There were so many people so much better than me you know?” The ravenette warbles, wrapping his arms around himself.

“They deserve to be here. But all you have is me.” Casey cracks,Oh god Miwa, baby-NO. He squeezes his eyes shut. Push it down, now. Otherwise he will start full on bailing which will defeat the whole purpose of this feelings exercise. Push it down. Breathe. Now try again.

“A-and the worst part?” The teen out of time and out of body, throws his head back and laughs bitterly. “I can’t just let myself die because then everything and everyone will be wasted. And fuck-!“ Cj tears at his hair. “I.. I can’t do that to them.”

“And..” Case sighs, hands dropping to his sides. “I can’t do that to you guys either. I promised myself I’ll take care of you guys. And I will.” Calmer, he bends down to get a closer look at them all. My family. His family.

Their peaceful snores finally starting to douse the Anger and grief down to a manageable hiss, not gone. (Huh,guess Da-Uncle Mi was right. Talking does help) Maybe not ever. But today, right now, it released its fangs and uncoiled enough to give way for the blooming softness that always, always thudded beneath his skin. And he’ll make sure it always will. The apocalypse could quite literally come again and freeze itself over before Cassandra Jones Junior ever stopped committing to loving his family. All of them.

“I swear.” He nods his head fiercely. If anyone were awake they would see Cj’s eyes flare up as if glowing from the sheer force of will. “I’m gonna take care of you guys like you take care of me.”

Because he knows these people. They are good. They are so, so good. Even.. even if they will never love him the same. Even if they will never be the people who raised him( he doesn’t want them to be, they were so, so tired). Both were good. Both were so fun and so utterly delightful to be around it hurt. The kind of hurt where you laughed so hard your sides were aching. He didn’t know that kind of hurt could exist till now.

They will treat him well. And even if they didn’t (which they have, he’s so, so lucky they have). Once upon a time, these were once the same people who saw a baby, quietly buried among the rubble, took him in and taught him everything he knows. Despite barely able to feed themselves most days. And that means something to him. It means everything.

And in a way, that was exactly what the present variants were doing all over again. Forging birth certificates, applying for IDs, giving him a room, explaining shampoo, dishwashers, public transport, tv shows, money, making strict meal plans for his sorry,sorry self that couldn’t even stomach bread cuz guess what? Edible Flour and yeast didn’t exist in the apocalypse. Everything. Bringing him into their movie nights, sparring, comic books,lab time, graffiti, magic tricks, news hunting, hockey games.

He still remembers that very first night.

("You're not coming with?" Raphael questions, already halfway out the Medbay.

Once it became clear that was nothing more they could do for Leonardo save Casey's Ninpo that he really, really did not feel up to doing again. The excitement died down and the group gradually began to disperse, grabbing pillows and blankets and heading towards the living room he was previously tied up in. Hah.Good times.

Casey shakes his head. "No, it's alright. Please rest Mas- Raphael." He tries to smile brightly. "Someone has to watch over Leonardo you know? I'm basically the only medic here." Casey shrugs.

Truth be told, Cj wants nothing more than to drop to the ground right then and there. But someone has to monitor the red slider. Pounding headache and fuzzy vision aside (oh shell, this was a concussion wasn’t? Would explain why he’s so irritable) someone had to track the slow but steady up and down on the ECG screen in case things went wrong. He was a little rusty. They didn’t have a lot of those things towards… the end. But he will adjust, he will. It’s what he was here for. He just.. doesn't want to intrude any further.

"Why did'nt you tell us had mystic mojo?"

Something in him breaks

Stop this. I almost killed your brother. I'm just a stranger to you. Why are you being so nice to me? Casey wants to claw at his arms and scream, held back only by the sheer weight of exhaustion and grief that threatens to bury him under.

Just like it buried Pa.

Just like it buried everyone else.

Just like it will bury him.

Unfortunately, Master Splinter did not catch that memo. That or they were more focused on hospitality than he thought. "No. Red is right." Master Splinter huffs. "You are exhausted future boy. You can't do anything like this. Go." The elderly man crosses his arms, using his tail to push him into Raphael's waiting arms. "I will watch over Blue."

"But-"

"C'mon Case lets go." Raphael says gently. A heavy hand that has no right to feel so familiar; rests on his shoulder, guiding him to the living room. Casey shudders, between Leonardo and Raphael it was like being hammered with the world’s worst case of Deja vu.

"There you two are." April grins tiredly.

"Casey!" Michelangelo cheers, making grabby hands towards the boy. They both part from each other to make space for him.

On the far right, his shell against April's side. Donatello spares him a glance before curling further inwards. He doesn't say anything but he doesn't need too. His lack of protest is already enough.)

And it is there right there; nestled between April and Mikey, Raph as a mattress, Donnie curled up at April’s side, And surrounded by more blankets than he has ever seen in his life. Cj tells his already hardened resolve 'I am never leaving them alone'. Even if they never called him family again. As long as they wanted him around, all they had to do was ask. And he will be there. He will.

So yes, the past-er present hamatos were still his family. But was he theirs in return? Or was he just a really good friend? Was he even anything to them at all?

“Bring it in little brother”

“I’m not mad at you”

“I’m not your mother.. but I’m not going to ditch you”

Yet when Case reaches for the warmth that has never ever left him. Not since a ten year old Cj had yearned and screamed and loved with all his heart; let me love you. You are not alone. Let me take care of you like you do for me. Let me fight for you. Let us fight together

It’s cold.

He strains and he strains and he strains. til his metaphorical heart is breaking at the seams-No one answers back.

Not Purple, Not Green, Not Orange, Not even.. Blue.

Thrumming teal pluses sluggishly around his clenched hands before fading out despite all his cloying attempts to keep it beating. Starved of the trust and togetherness that was the very foundation of this clan.

Maybe he deserves it

A rotten boy who left everyone else to die

Some lifesaver he was

Those are the facts. Look for the objective truth. Feelings and words can be Subjective. Casey swallows thickly. Uncle Tello always told him that. So what does it say about the present Hamatos?

A) They were lying, saying all this out of some twisted sense of obligation and no genuine sense of affection. Which scratch that. Even with his foggy memories and what he knows about Casey now. She would never do that. Same goes for everyone else. Family was everything to all of them, even way back here in the past. They guarded that word viciously.

Or B) They were trying for his sake. Or maybe for their own sake too. Trying to fit him into a set that was already complete, but wanting to try anyways so they kept saying it and saying it, In hopes that one day it became true. But it won’t-Not ever. Why would it? What did Case have to offer that they couldn’t already give each other? He almost killed their Leo. He almost broke this family-not quite lying. But not quite telling the truth either. Fake it till you make it as they say. Now; here’s the million dollar question, would they do something like that that?

He thinks of Leo’s breezy smiles but searching jokes.

Donnie’s allowance of him into his lab, but his eyes scrutinise him more closely than anyone else.

Casey’s stubborn once a fortnight ice hockey sessions but firm and awkward conversations.

Mikey’s near constant hand grabbing and pulling and ‘look!look! Check this out!’ at every idle moment, as if fearful of letting Cj out of his sight.

April who jumps at any opportunity to take him topside but scans everything,himself included.

Raph’s near constant,but cautious grip around his shoulders whenever they went somewhere. Unlike his more free, swooping hugs to the others.

Even the occasional spontaneous and mysterious bowl of cut fruit yet halting, stilted exchanges that would occur at his doorway every so often.

Hm.. yes this sounded more like them.

It sours his mouth like rat jerky gone bad. But you swallow it down anyways. Because really what else do you have?

Misplaced Familiarity aside, he has no where else to go. He has no money, no history (Donnie’s forgery and Casey’s manhandling of poor government workers to get him registered under her name, as some previously hermit cousin can only do so much) and no credentials to even hold down a basic part-time job.

Pizza supreme; he can’t even navigate the New York’s train system by himself without getting so overwhelmed by the sheer amount of people he got lost, he had to call Casey (cuz Casey had a van to block out the noise) to come bail him out.

He may not know much about the present. But he’s sure as hell not trying his luck on the streets, he could. Nothing can compare to the apocalypse. But he’s pretty sure his mom will find a way to leave the afterlife just to kill him.

“Cassandra Jones Junior I did not get skewered by Kraang to have you digging around the trash like a goddamn cockroach!” Is something she would say. Not to mention the disappointment from everyone else.

And Case wasn’t sure if he could sleep knowing he stole from some poor shopkeeper just trying to live their life. When there was a gaggle of people right here, more than happy to give him an allowance if he so much as looked at something for more than two seconds. He never thought, in his wildest dreams, he’d have to stop younger variations of his pa and uncles from buying out whole stores yet here he was.

This has to be enough.

And it will be.

He’ll make sure of it.

Mind finally settled, Cj stands, grimacing at the sound of his knees cracking in protest.Eurgh boi, gotta love cursed aging and all the weird and wonderful ways the apocalypse hurled abuse at his body. Good thing Leo wasn’t awake. Or anyone else for that matter. They would tease him relentlessly, swearing to add to a growing pile of blackmail he’s pretty sure doesn’t exist for him, yet. Or they would stare at him in suffocating silence with those pitying eyes which was just so, so much worse.

Carefully, Cj sets his weapon down, still within arms reach, and curls himself into whatever empty space within the pile he can find without disturbing them because he knows at least one of them will be up soon, mainly Mikey with his breakfast prep or Raph with his morning workout, sometimes Casey too, on the rare occasions she would sleep over in the lair with them like now. He tries not to let it bother him too much, the mystic warrior he knew was almost always last to rise.

Case tucks his knees to his chest and flutters his eyes shut. So he can at least try and pretend to them that he slept.

This is enough.

HOLY SHEET- this was only supposed to be a small mini side project but alas I forget that finals exist 🥲 but hey, here’s this small piece of fluff (*cough if you ignore the movie opening*) ft; a 6 year old Cj and his Duncle Mi as a small piece of apology for all the angst and silence I threw at yall for the past month while we wait for me to finish my other ideas haha 😂😂

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Audio: YMCA_ZY (Instagram)

Fic: This is victory (hollow and cold).

inspired by @goodlucktai and their incredible story “Raised on little light”

Part: Two

Tw: major character death, grief, suicide idealisation, disassociation, starvation, slight description of injuries and inaccurate medical advice

This is hope.

_

The air is much chillier today. Once upon a time, that would be the herald of their highly anticipated snow day. Emojis will flood the family groupchat, plans will be made, schedules will be cleared, homework conspicuously forgotten. But that was then. This is now.

Leo's memorial hangs above them like a haunting guillotine. It would be better if he actually was haunting this place. Anything is better than this.

"Hi" Mikey smiles weakly, trying to play off his squeak of suprise into faux causalness. "I saved you lunch."

Raph nods. "Thanks" he pokes at the reheated chicken curry and rice in silence. It's good. It always is. But it feels like ash most days.

"So how was patrol? You're not usually back this early." Mikey bless his soul. He's trying so hard.

It hurts as much as it warms the snapper's heart. His littlest brother, trying so hard to scrap together just a little more light for all of them, like he wasn’t crying himself to sleep every night, the ‘if I was just a little faster’ eating him up alive.

(Dead in the middle of the night, the snapping alligator turtle returns back from patrol and freezes just outside a colourful subway car. Soft shaking sobs, creep out from just beyond the unlit car.

Raph wants nothing more than to walk in, scoop his little brother into his arms and never let anything hurt him ever again. But the memory of pink tendrils and ‘if this is the end I want to let you know that I’m sorry’ hold him in place. Raph is not safe.

So shamefully, cowardly, like every night before this, the eldest brother turns and walks away.)

Michelangelo deserves better than this.

But Raphael is not safe.

"It was fine just... loud. You know how humans are" The snapper shrugs half-heartedly, sitting across the table from the box turtle. It was more than that. Cheerful music, parading crowd. Raph gets it, he does. By all accounts it's a good thing. A victory over the failed invasion. Humanity won, Yokai-kind won too. And knowing of it or not, the whole of earth won as well.

They have no idea what bled for them that day. What still bleeds for them to this day. Raph tries to stomach it till he couldn't no more. Grief festering in his chest till he punched a hole through an old construction site. That, was when he knew he had to head home to their dojo before he did something he regrets. Which actually... is something he should get back too. He still too angry.. he's not. Raph's not safe.

"Hah.. New York what a town right?" Mikey nudges him shyly, blind to the danger present. Raph flinches, jerking away. Raph's not safe.

"Mikey! Careful-!" The red snapper snaps immediately deflating in muted horror at the younger turtle’s grimace. What is he doing? He’s scaring him! “I-geez, sorry. sorry.” The floor is suddenly much more interesting to look at now. “Raph was just thinking of going to the dojo” The snapper sags.

"Oh okay.. I see” Mikey’s smile wobbles, at the corner of his eye, Raph can see it. “That’s.. that’s ok, big bro. have fun." His voice is pitched just a tiny bit too high. Raph doesn’t need to look at Mikey directly, years of growing up togather tell him the box turtle is barely choking back tears.

It's another stab at his already leaking heart, his baby brother always so loud with his emotions has no right being this subdued. You already leave him to cry alone. Mind Raph reminds him, firm but not cruel. Raph would really prefer it if he was. He wants you to stay. You can at least do this much.

"Actually, the dojo can wait. You got lots on your plate right?" Raph quickly pivots, motioning to the half filled sink."Raph will help you clean up" The older teen picks up his plate and starts towards the sink, still keeping a wide berth between them.

The result is instantaneous. The sun breaks through the stormy clouds. Mikey looks like he can damn near combust from how widely he is grinning, trying and failing to hide the not so subtle flutter of his hands in a happy stim.

It makes the snapper’s heart want to burst. Once, a long time ago this would be the time Raph would sweep his baby brother, sunshine personified, into a big crushing hug, a playful noogie included. But that was then. This is now.

Instead slowly, carefully, Raph reaches out and briefly pats Mikey’s head. Proud of himself for barely shaking this time. It’s such a small thing, it used to be so easy. Still Mikey gratefully drinks it all in, like a cactus to water in a desert.

“So you draw anything new?” Raph tries to ask. Immediately grimacing at the awkwardness of it all. Talking used to be so easy. What happened to them?

Luckily Mikey seems to take it in stride. Happy to talk and talk and talk about the new charcoal medium he was trying, the weird Lou jitsu memorabilia he found while cleaning (Since when did Mikey clean?? Willingly??) under the couch and the one or two grocery’s hauls done by April. No mention of Mikey begging April let him go topside with her. No mention of any junkyard trips with Donnie(not that Raph was surprised). No trips outside. No detours. Nothing.

Since when did that happen too? Distinctly Raph can remember many a time spent furiously wrangling a tiny little brother over the phone for him to come home. Because it’s getting late, the sun is coming up, Big man that alley isn’t going to run away, you can come back later please-

His little brother, for all his box turtle homing instincts, loved to explore, weather it be to discover small family shops in the hidden city or find a new spot for graffiti topside. Discovering new things was his thing, it’s what made Michelangelo, Michelangelo. Then again how much did the snapper really know of his brothers nowadays huh? He pushes that thought aside before he can dwell on it any further not wanting to sour this rare lightness.

“…And then I spent the rest of the day trying get rid of those annoying cobwebs!” Mikey shakes his head. “Dad was right we really need to clean our rafters more!” The box turtles huffs as he places a now clean plate into their cabinet.

But the last time Raph remembered dad complaining, or the tell-tale swoosh of a lab door being opened was 14 months ago.

Pizza supreme, Raph blinks, swaying a little. That was why the box turtle drank in any and all touch Raph gave. This poor kid, oh god his poor baby brother, one of their most sociable and people loving family members, technically with Leo gone Mikey was the only one now.

All alone for months on end with the only indication that he wasn’t the only living soul in the lair, was the occasional bags of food that appeared by the lair’s entrance and the empty plates by Donnie’s lab and Pop’s room. Mikey must be so, so touch starved. How long has the box turtle been doing this? How did they let this get so bad? How did they not notice? What happened to us? The eldest brother mourns. If nothing else, he resolves to at least try to give his poor, touch starved brother one head pat every other day. He’s already failed Leo and Donnie, he can’t fail Mikey too.

Unbidden, Raph can’t help but remember a time just last week, where he had punched their punching bag clean off its chain. Only to return an hour later with a new one already in its place. At that time he assumed it was Donnie (with all his all seeing cameras and regular but eerily silent maintenance to all their appliances. No more loudly complaining over who broke their toaster) who replaced it but now-

Tap.Tap.Tap.

“Raphie..? Raphala?” Mikey smiles sweetly but hesitantly. Thankfully, the box turtle seemed to learn his lesson earlier. Instead of touching the older turtle like before, Mikey taps the countertop to get Raph’s attention. “Is everything ok?”

“Oh yeh;Raph’s good.” Raph shakes his head. “Was just thinking”

“Do you wanna talk about it?” Big doe eyes somehow get wider. Once upon a time that would have been enough to make Raph cave.

“Your uhm-hands are doing good.” Raph cringes, painfully adverting his gaze. Mikey scowls, with narrowed eyes that says ‘Boi you are not slick’. But the days of loud Dr Delicate touch, fearlessly climbing or latching on top of his brothers and pushing,and pushing, until they fess up are far behind them.

So instead, Mikey sighs and with a worn smile, he says. “You know you can always talk to me right Raph?”

“I.. I know.” Raph nods, beak quirking into crumpled facsimile of a smile, cuz gosh does he know. All those Dr feelings seminars. Raph shudders to himself. But this, something about their ‘this’ will always feel too much like a raw nerve or a live wire his other little brother was way too fond of playing with. Shit, he missed Donnie so much. How was it possible to miss someone who was still alive this much? Some days it really did feel like he lost two little brothers instead of one. One was already one too many.

With a shake of his head Raph forces himself back into his body. No need to space out twice now. He already promised himself he’ll try for Mikey. If Donnie, April and Dad weren’t going to be here. Raph would at least try, so that’s exactly what he was going to do.

“Same goes for you too, big man” The snapper gestures to the box turtle with his chin. And he means it he does.

Mikey hums, nodding. Resuming his task.

The sound dissolves into the quiet clinking of plates and sloshing water. Not quite uncomfortable but not quite comfortable either.

“Is your eye doing ok?” Mikey ask, trying to steer them to more comfortable waters.

“It’s fine.” Raph answers, happy to take the out. “More than fine. Doesn’t ache at all actually. Just numb and a little tingly.”

“Oh mi gosh! You too?”

Surprised, Raph snaps his head towards an equally wide eyed Mikey. It breaks his heart. His little brother used to be so much louder than this. Raph tries to smile encouragingly, prompting the orange turtle to continue.

“My hands still shake sometimes. But every time I think they’re going to start hurting they just don’t” The box turtle pouts . “Even Barry was surprised. He says it’s supposed to hurt. I just feel tingly and numb too”. His face scrunches briefly, disgruntled. “-makes it hard to know when I overdo it though.” To demonstrate, Mikey wiggles all 6 fingers in a loose jazz hands gesture. Smiling slightly.

A surprised laughs tears out from the older brothers beak; equal parts exasperated and fond. He doesn’t know what why, it wasn’t really that funny. But something about the silly gesture must have reached him somewhere. Because here he is, airy and softer but still,laughing.

Delighted, Mikey giggles back. Eyes wet. How long has it been since he last heard his brother laugh?

If only Leo was here.

If only this could last forever.

But Something suffocates the precious warmth instantly

Mikey's hold on the plate shatters. It drops to the ground breaking into a million pieces.

Speak of the ghosts and the ghosts will come.

(Deep Down, beneath them, inside of them, around them, where the space of RedPurpleOrangeGreenWhite swirl around each other so close yet so far. No longer able to bear the thought of intersection but unable bear the thought of tearing away from each other.

Nonono-

Something withers. something dies.

Like the chime of Blue saying ‘Hero moves are totally your style’

Before it winks out from existence, leaving a gaping hole behind. It doesn’t even bleed. It would have been better if it at least bled. Now its just empty-

No please we can’t go through this again-)

Frantically, head partially in his chest, the box turtle staggers, looking around fearfully, spots glowing orange in alarm.

"Where-?" Mikey starts.

For the first time in months, pure big brother instinct completely overrides his anxiety, Raph grabs for Mikey. Tucking him protectively under his shoulder protectively and races towards Donnie's lab. He'll be there. The softshell never left these days.

For the first time since they laid their Blue to rest. The sliding door to Pop's room bursts open.

"Boys! How-!?” Splinter yells rushing toward them.

"We're all fine! I don't know! " Mikey cries back, slightly giddy over the most physical contact he’s gotten in months, despite the current situation. Meanwhile Raph damn near breaks down the softshell’s door. His eye twitches. “Donnie! Donnie!! Open the door!”

For the first time in months, an achingly familiar voice answers back. “I’m okay! I know! I know! Sweet Galileo I’m trying to fix it!"

The door opens with a swoosh, releasing a gust stale air into their faces. A frazzled Donnie steps out. Eyebags galore and stench of old coffee stronger than Raph’s notorious fear stink. Raph bites down the urge to lecture the teen’s bed wrangled state.

The purple teen in question, is typing furiously on his computer wrist, while his phone is tucked between his shoulder and his face. April's voice can heard from its speaker. Yelling confusion.

(Wrong wrong wrong. The shared space of their already off kilter family mystic sways dangerously. It's quiet, too quiet. Large steady Red drapes over his remaining universe tightly, shielding orangepurplegreenwhite in a protective shield.

The colours mix. They reach for each other for the first time in months both inside and outside in shared confusion and terror.

Where?

What's going on?

We're all here.

So.. why?

But then just as quickly as it came. The ringing silence is gone. Their constellation is settles back into its uncertain balance, all is well.

Huh?

Wait. Resilient Green hushes them, listen. Tentatively, they reach out to where they hadn’t thought to do before.

Ba-dump Ba-dump Ba-dump

It's a heartbeat. One of them realises in dawning horror.

But who?

Who else can possibly be here with them that can throw them further off balance now?

An image of similarly decorated kneepads flashes in Orange's mind. He pushes that image to the rest.

Guys. Casey.

On que, the teal heartbeat flatlines.

Oh no.

Before it staggers to its feet. Irregular and slow.

Alien relief washes over them. It wrestles with well-worn distrust and bitterness.)

“We need to find future boy.” Pops states, voice raspy from a year of disuse and places a hand on Donnie’s arm. The sudden contact nearly startles the softshell into dropping his phone. Not that Raph can blame him. He can scarcely believe dad is here either. “He owes us some answers”

In the end, they decide to split up to cover more ground. Unsurprisingly, the future protoge found a way to disable Future Donnie’s comm line. Or at least found a way to undo whatever Donnie did to sync future boy’s comm to their comm system. So contacting him directly is not an option.

It takes two hours. One wild goose chase and trying so hard to listen a nigh invisible heartbeat. When April (what would they ever do without her) points out, “Hey didn’t future boy say they lived in caves?”

Before they focus their efforts solely to the underground. Mikey took the sewers, Raph in the underground maintainance tunnels and April and Splinter in the abandoned train stations while Donnie continued to search the city’s database for any more underground structures they could check.

It’s been 3 more hours since then and one more cliff-hanging flatline.

The snapper rubs at his unseeing eye, annoyed. If he knew it was going to start aching today he would have taken some pain meds.

A creaking noise grabs his attention.

Raph looks up, seeing a half loose ceiling panel swaying in the drafty tunnel. He can’t fit. Maybe April or Mikey can. But they’re halfway across the city’s underground sector. Do it scared, do it scared. It seems today was just full of pushing past his fear huh?

So standing on his tiptoes, Raph sticks his head up the hole, his breath hitches. The smell alone makes his eyes water.

There, nestled between the tunnel’s false ceiling and actual ceiling is his little brother's killer, the one locked the door on his Leo while there was a monster with his little brother on the other side, (nevermind the fact that Leo asked him too) surrounded by rotting rat carcasses and so much more impossibly thin and still, if it weren’t for the flagging teal he’d think the boy was already dead.

Raph doesn’t know if it’s because of the revelation of distant family or the boy’s pitiful state or because of his years spent as the eldest brother, the one who is the biggest, the one who takes care of them all. Oh he's too small, Raph can’t help but think.

This is their family Ninpo. It runs on love and trust: Even at the height of their ancestor's obession with martyrdom, there had been love and trust buried in there somewhere. The family mystic wouldn't have survived to their current generation otherwise.

But Casey’s is not buried in the ground. It is not the kind that martyrs their own at the first opportunity. Not even for good reason.

It wells a confused pity, soured by residual anger. future boy; all alone. Displaced in a timeline not his own and disowned by the only remnants of familiarity.

Gingerly, carefully and trying not to have a panic attack over the prospect of prolonged contact. Deep breaths. Just take deep breathes. You’re the only one who can do this. Breathe. You picked up Mikey, and he was fine. you can do it again. It’s just for a little while. Trembling down to a manageable level, Raph then lifts the unconscious human up and down through the rafter hole. The movement causes stained, loosely tied bandages to slip, and the stench goes from bad to downright horrendous.

The overpowering smell of sewer and pus nearly makes him drop the kid into dirty sewer water and gag. Which is saying something cuz Raph grew up in the sewers. The snapper is no medic, but pizza supreme, he knows humans aren’t supposed to be this warm nor is their flesh is supposed to leak yellow or swell such an angry red.

Holding the boy at arms length, Raph lifts his comms to his face. “I found future boy. Heading back to the lair now. He’s hurt bad.” If he sounds a little breathless no one points it out. He doesn’t stay long enough the rest of the group’s verbal assent. There are too many thoughts in his head. Raph doesn’t know what to feel as he walks back through the dark tunnels.

.

.

.

It’s 3am when the search finally concludes, too long since the mutant turtles and rat last ate lunch and too late for April to make the journey back to her apartment.

She stays overnight for the first time since that day. The group stand around the living room in silence. The rush of trying to stabilise the med-bay-bound time traveler is finally over and with it, their crushing spector returns with a vengeance.

“Well, I guess I’ll go get dinner started then!” Mikey smiles nervously, ducking out to escape to the kitchen. “I hope you guys don’t mind lasagna !” He calls.

Sharing one last glance, the rest disperse. No words need to be said, they all know their roles. Even months apart and drowning in unnatural silence, cannot wash away the years of laying this foundation.

April grabs the plates and utensils, Raph and Donnie start to round up the assortment of beanbags and chairs scattered across the lair and bring it to the table while Splinter hovers near the kitchen doorway, in case Mikey needed him. He was the only one, save April or occasionally Raph, who Mikey trusted in his kitchen. They were supposed to be banned together. Set of a pair.

“Ah” April chokes up, freezing mid-plate placement. Worried, Donnie walks over, leaving Raph to set the last beanbag. “April what’s wrong?”

In response, a strangled gasp (it sounds suspiciously like tears) escapes from his older sister, she shakes her head unable to continue. The soft shell frowns and begins counting the plates with his hand. One, Two, Three.. yes, there were six plates. Donnie doesn’t see the issue, six plates for six people-himself, April, Dad, Raph, Mikey, Le- Oh. His hand drops. Suddenly the cold tiles beneath him go from unnoticeable to digging pins and needles into his heels. Hurts, hurts everything hurts.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry” April shakes, She’s crying, Donnie is frozen. His heart beats a rabbit quick. Donnie doesn’t know what to do. He can’t do. His other half is gone, His big sister rarely ever cries, the faint sounds from the kitchen are too much.I can’t do this. It’s all too much.

The softshell doesn’t realise he’s hyperventilating till a solid warmth rests on his shoulders.

“Donnie? Dee..? Hey. It’s ok. Copy me and Mikey ok? Deep breath in, deep breath out”

A deep rumbling churr and a raspingly familiar lullaby, one that he hasn’t heard since he was a tot, joins them in the undertone.

He forces his breaths to slow. Safe. You are safe.

Squeezing the tears from his eyes. His vision clears, and somehow the softshell finds himself sitting on the ground with a weighted blanket draped on him. April is kneeled in front to him, Mikey and Splinter beside her. While Mikey and her exaggerate their breaths for him to follow. His father’s lullaby draws to a close. Come back

Behind him, his big brother shivers, still churring, a comforting presence no blanket can ever achieve.

Confused, Donnie arches a brow at his younger brother and father. Weren’t they supposed to be in the kitchen?

Familiar with his nonverbal gestures, Mikey speaks softy, for the softshell’s comfort. “You know how dad is. Pointy ears and all. He heard you hyperventilating, I saw him try to leave.. well you know.” The box turtle shrugs. “Dinner’s already in the oven, it’ll be fine.”

It’s truly a testament to how off-kilter everyone is, when Dad refrains from using his tail to smack the youngest for the ears comment.

Donnie nods stiffly, still not quite able to push past the weight holding his tongue.

He feels naked, exposed. Yet…somehow his body feels more relaxed and unwound than it has ever been in months, as if finally awoken from a long dream. For the first time, Donnie turns and lets his eyes wander around their lair, truly look at it. Not shamble through its halls during the witching hours half dead and with a single minded focus on: coffee, fix the occasional appliance, and returning to his lab.

The cobwebs by the rafters are gone. The playstation controllers are neatly stacked, the floor. The floor. A chill creeps back up his feet and into his hands. Gone is the stubborn layer of dust, dirt and crumbs that somehow always managed to coat the floor. It’s clean. It not supposed to be clean. Not even with three teenage boys.

I have become a ghost in my own home. The softshell blinks, dazed. How much has he missed? The genius wonders with no small amount of dread.

Mikey cocks his head to the side, cautiously curious. “Do you want to talk about it? Signing works too.”

The softshell’s feels his shoulders rise, ice all over. gone.gone. Gone. Six plates. A broken set. How he could be possibly explain this? How could he possibly articulate that kind of agony.

Sensing the return of the younger boy’s spiral, April shoulder checks him, disrupting the thought train. “It’s my fault. I was setting the table but then I realised-” Her voice wavers, but no new tears spill out. “- I realised I grabbed six plates”

Grieving understanding darkens everyone else’s face.

“Yeah.” April laughs sardonically. “I’m being a terrible big sister right now aren’t I?”

Donnie frowns, vermantly. As does everyone else in protest.

“April no..”

“That’s not true-”

“Green..”

“Guys stop.” She holds her hands up , Let me finish. She adds unspoken. They let her. Because when April O’Neil wanted to say something you listened.

“You guys don’t have to make me feel better ok? I know.” She whispers, wrapping her arms around herself in some modicum of comfort. “You’re my family.” The 19 year old cries heartbroken, bowing her head in shame. “You’re my family, you guys needed me and I avoided this place like the plague. Because it hurt too much to be here.” Unspoken their eyes drift to Leo’s memorial before returning back to each other.

“You were hurting…” Raph offers up, no longer churring.

“We’re all hurting! That doesn’t make it an excuse!” April hisses, snapping up to meet the second eldest’s gaze. Her eyes fierce even with a fresh set of tears. The snapper shrinks.

The human crumbles too, instant regret colours her face. “Oh, big guy I’m so sorry.” Gently, slowly she reaches out a tentative hand to the largest turtle. He leans into it, only to draw back at the very last second.

She presses lips into a thin line to keep herself from crying harder. April nods, eyes flashing in pained understanding. She sighs, steeling herself and then continues.

“When that void hit our Ninpo.. again” they all grimace in mutual disgust . “Fuck.. I was terrified. it was like being stuck on the ground again where we had to watch Leo, except worse.” She cups her hands to her face. “Because this time, I stayed away on purpose.”

“What if it wasn’t Casey? But one of you ?” She looks off into the distance, haunted. “What if the last memory you all had of me was off the worst day of our lives, instead of me telling you guys how much I love you. Because I do.” She says, wrecked with grief. But also love Always love. “Splints you’re my weird uncle, and you boys are my little brothers. I can’t lose you guys.”

Unable to contain himself anymore, Mikey loops his arms around her waist and burrows into her side. She reciprocates eagerly, wrapping an arm around her youngest brother and pulling him closer. “You’re not the only one who was pulling away.” The box turtle says sadly.

To the side, the former actor turned father and current Hamato patriarch says nothing, he watches his beloved sons and niece(?)semi-ward(?), (bah, doesn’t matter she’s family) silently. Deep in thought.

“Michel’s right.” Donnie chimes in, finally able to get his tongue working. They all look to him with varying degrees of suprise. Which is fair, he’s not exactly the picture of emotional vulnerability or mental health. None of them are. Donnie swallows down a lump. He does not want to do this. Newton’s beard does he not want to do this.

But his home is being warped around him. There is sterility where there should be chaos. Mikey is withdrawn, Raph is touch adverse, April is crying and Papa has not once complained bout missing any off his TV shows. We’re breaking. Donnie realises with hysterical dread. They’re barreling to the point of no return, and if something doesn’t give soon, they might be too far gone from themselves and each other, to ever fit back together.

He’s already bleeding out from the space where his twin used to be. Losing them like this, in any form will truly be the final gun shot to his brain. And they definitely won’t survive losing his genius either.

“I don’t.. I don’t think I know what to do with myself without Leo around.” He shifts uneasily, adverting his eyes from his family. “But I don’t want to leave you guys alone.” He grimaces, picking at his nails in nervous tick. “And I know.. leaving per se, isn’t what Leo would want. So as I’m sure as some of you know..” Donnie casts what he hopes is an apologetic look to Raph and Mikey. The ones he was sure felt his absence most keenly, like it or not, his father and him had very similar coping mechanisms, ie: drowning themselves in whatever be it TV shows or inventing to distract themselves from reality. “..I try to keep myself busy.” The softshell finishes.

Raph pales at the implication. “Donnie..” he says pained, but doesn’t make a move to hold the soft shell. Instead his hands brush against the younger teen’s shoulders tense and longing. Donnie tries not to take it personally.

He feels his dad’s tail wraps around his waist and squeeze. “I am so sorry, my son.”

Tearing up, Mikey slowly unwinds himself from April and holds out his arms in invitation. Donnie leans forward and the box turtle pulls Donnie into a hug, squeezing him with all the fierce, warm love only the sun like him can give. “Thank you for telling us. And thank you for staying.” His little brother says fiercely.

“I can never leave you all without my genius” He hugs Mikey back. Because it is true. Leo is his other half. But his whole world has always been made up of RaphLeoMikeyAprilPapa and the numerous tiny planets that made up his love for science and mechanical engineering.

It’s funny really. The genius locked himself in his lab, threw himself into home security, and chipped away at the backlogs of blueprints that had accumulated over the years, all in an effort to slow the bleeding. There could be no space for grief and the ‘just a little left and you can join him’ if he worked himself to exhaustion.

It kept him from thinking. It kept him in stasis. It kept him and his katana-sharp grief from spilling out and poisoning his beloved family. But he already did, didn’t he? For all his genius he failed to account how his absence was a poison too.

Yet this small pocket of family comforting him, helping him through his recent meltdown has done more to warm the chill and bandage the wrongness of gone gone gone-Something intrinsic to Hamato Donatello is gone- than any machine or programme he worked himself to death making.

Truthfully, Donnie doesn’t know if he can ever truly live with being half of a whole or a piece of his world gone, but for his remaining world, he’s willing to try. Besides, wasn’t Excascale computing becoming global soon? He definitely wants to try and stick around for that.

April rests her head on his shoulder, “Oh Dee.. we are so going to find you a therapist.”

“Preferably one with at least 4 doctorates.” He quips back, half joking-half serious.

Her eyes blaze determinedly with all the fire she was so famous for. “Consider it done.” Big sister of the whole wide world.

“Raph can look in the hidden city too.” Raph volunteers. “I’ll help too.” Donnie feels Mikey nod enthusiastically.

Despite everything, Donnie feels a small twitch upwards at his beak the first touch of a smile since that day. This.. this was still good.

“Actually..” after a brief pause, Mikey pipes up, nervously. “Since we’re all sharing something today, is it ok if I say something too?”

“Go for it.”

“Of course.”

“Always”

“Ok..ok I’m gonna do it.”Nervous, the youngest drums his fingers along Donnie’s battleshell. The softshell tsks, extending two metal claws from his shell to grab the younger’s hands. “Sorry.” Mikey shrinks.

“It’s fine. Just grip the claws instead.” The purple branded teen instructs, not breaking the hug. Mikey nods, and then proceeds to white knuckle the offered claws so tightly, the metal begins to creak. It makes the older brother want to shove the younger away and scream my baby! But it’s been a literal year since he has last seen his little brother (jeezus how did he let it get this bad) so Donnie resists; just this once.

“So..” Mikey takes a deep shuddering breath, “I don’t want you guys to take this the wrong way. I love you guys. I love to cook for you guys, I promise.” He looks to April,Splinter,Raph pleadingly.

“And I know you’re all hurting so I don’t mind handling the chores myself either.” He smiles wobbly. Shock briefly paints Donnie and Splinter’s face. Raph hunches inward and April’s looks away, ashamed. So that was who deep cleaned their floor and cleared out the webs. The mutant rat concludes heartbroken. He gently cups his son’s face. Mikey leans into it.

The floor alone would have taken days. How lonely must his son have been? Splinter mourns.

“B-but it gets really hard sometimes and I’m sorry.” Mikey hiccups, big fat tears rolling down his face. Forming a damp patch on the softshell’s shoulder that he bravely tolerates. “A-and I know I shouldn’t be complaining. It’s my fault Leo-”

Oh no. Oh hell no. Not their youngest.

The explosion of protests is violent.

“Baby, no.” April gasps horrified.

“Don’t you dare. Don’t you fucking dare.” Donnie hisses, wrenching Mikey away by his shoulders and shaking him.

“But if I was just a little faster-” The box turtle shakes.

“Orange, you did everything you could”

“But you guys-” Mikey whimpers.

“No.” Raph growls, clenching his fists. “ just because we’re hurting doesn’t mean anything. We are relying a bit too much on you. You cook for all of us. You’re the only one who keeps our home clean,” Raph places a light hand atop his little brother head. He has to say this, he has to. For Mikey. And.. for himself. “And Leo..” They all flinch. “Leo made his own choices.” Raph sags. “So please, don’t hurt my baby brother by blaming him for things out of his control.”

“But.. what about you?” Mikey wobbles

“Huh?” Raph tilts his head to the side.

“Do you blame yourself?” Point blank when he wants to me.

There is silence. The snapper recoils back stung. Raph for as big as he is, feels smaller than ever. “It’s not the same. You were trying to help. But I..”he hands his head low. “I hurt you guys.”

A chorus of protest break out again.

“It wasn’t you!”

“Literally impossible. You? The guy who feeds stray cats?”

“It was the Krang!”

“I know that!” Raph snaps. “It’s so stupid I know. The krang did it, not me.” The snapper grips his head. “But I’m the strongest and the biggest. And everything I close my eyes I see..” the red turtle shakes,staring down at his hands. “I don’t need mind control to hurt ya guys. If I mess up..” He squeezes his eyes shut, tears falling. “ I.. I’m supposed to take care of you bozos.”

“Oh big guy.. We’re supposed to take care of each other.” This time not to be deterred. April wraps her arms around his large arm. It burns, but he can’t bear to shake her off, not after so long. “if nothing else, you and I promised remember? We would share.” Her eyes glimmer again with new tears.

(A lifetime ago, tucked away in a little corner away from where little brothers are sleeping.

A 11 year old and 10 year old lie nestled against each other. “Thanks for helping to get my brothers to sleep. Raph’s really sorry for this. They always get so fussy when they’re sick.” He grumbles, tucking his head between his knees.

The girl giggles. “Psh~ I already said it’s fine. You don’t have to do it all by yourself.”

“But I’m the oldest.” The boy protests.

“Uhh no. I’m the oldest. Im 11.” She rolls her eyes. Beaming “I’m always happy to help if you want?”

“Really?” He gasps, eyes sparkling.

“Well duh,” The girl grins, not yet realising just how far she will go or the magnitude she will carry for her soon-to-be family. But her mum always said she could do anything. So she will endure, gladly for them. “What are friends for?” )

Seeing the lack of protest this time, Mikey and Donnie take that opportunity to pull away form each other and encircle their big brother on either side.

“We’re with you always raphie.” Mikey hugs.

“Yeah. Yeah What he said.” Donnie, opting to rest his hand against his older brother.

“You guys..” Raph sniffs, bending down to be closer to his siblings.

“My sons, my family..” Splinter stands and joining the rest of his family at last. They all turn to face him. “This past year has been hard on us all. With our blue..” The elderly man stutters, chest hurting. “-it will likely always be hard on us. Which is why more than ever we have to press in. I know I have not been the best father, but as the head of the household and the adult, I should have known better than to leave you all to your hurts.” Splinter kneels, dogeza style. “I am truly and deeply sorry. Please I hope you can find it in yourself to forgive me. No matter what happens, from now on I promise, I will do my very best to be here now.”

“Dad..”

“Pops..”

“Oh Splints.”

“I don’t normally feel things but that one got through.”

“Donnie really?” April chuckles weakly, rolling her eyes. The softshell doesn’t quite feel up to smiling yet, so he shrugs instead. Leo wasn’t here anymore. Someone has to do it.

“Cmon guys, Pop’s is right.” Raph huffs affectionately, he still doesn’t feel quite so comfortable to hug them all back. But he’s not pulling away and that means everything. “No more. We have to stick together.”

“Anatawa Hitorijanai” Mikey beams, wiping away the tears.

“Anatawa Hitorijanai” the rest of them echo back. Pressing closer to each other again.

“Wait.” Donnie stiffens, pulling away. “Angelo how long has your lasagna been in the oven?”

“My lasagna!” With a shriek and a jump, Mikey tears himself away from the group and races towards the kitchen.

He doesn’t get far, stoping just shy of the doorway when the Smoke detector goes off with vengeance. Followed by a BOOM! And the tell-tale glow of yellow-orange flames lick at the doorway.

“Orange! What did you put in that lasagna!”

“I don’t know! It’s never done this before!”

“The fire exstinghisher! Someone get the fire exstinguisher!”

“FIRREEEFIIGGHTTTIINGG LIKE A BOSSSS!”

“Wait! No no no! Raph! That’s the turbo mo-”

Peals of laughter break through the halls amidst the smouldering fire and smoke and clouds of demineralised water particles.

For the first in a long, long time the lair feels less a living tomb and more a home.

They think Leo might be proud.

<Prev | Next>

Growing pains:

Tis the aftermath of the incident | Next >

Fic: This is victory (hollow and cold).

Part: One

What if.. Mikey’s portal drags home a cold dead corpse.

I would like to preface this by saying I completely blame @goodlucktai for their amazing Incredible story, raised on little light for putting this idea into my head. Guys go check it out the fic, it’s amazing it makes me so so sad but there is also so many good things in it 😭. Personally speaking I don’t think there’s anything I can write that will ever come close to what Tai can do, but as a famous internet post once said, write your shitty pots. So here we goes ppl

Tw: major character death, grief, suicide idealisation, getting disowned, disassociation, starvation, slight description of injuries and inaccurate medical advice

But I promise, there is still hope even in this.

_

“Casey! When I get to the other side you close that portal!”

Everything stills. The world falls static.

“What..?” A foreign voice enters the fray. Ah. Cj thinks distantly. It’s mine.

A series of thoughts shoots through his mind. Faster than the battle drones Uncle Tello used to make, faster than the joy rides Uncle Mi used to give.

He sees empty eyes, forced smiles. Screaming voices stained with the weight only grief, hunger, thirst and stress can give.

He thinks of Michelangelo in the brief moments he has met the turtle, so bright and so energetic. And then he remembers his Uncle Mi twisted into something quiet, slow and outwardly peaceful.

He remembers Monty, so stoic and so very angry. Yet so very indulgent when it counts. Out in a blaze of guns and glory. Standard-issue shoulder pauldron shoved into shaking hands. You will do great things Princey. He remembers Monty’s mother. Whose name he never got, forever in a daze, staring at walls of nothing. A hallowed husk like so many of the living ghosts that wandered their dusty halls. He remembers Miwa. So tiny, so fragile. So young. Too young. No amount of their anything can ever replace or beat modern medicine.

His Uncle Tello, bitter, grumpy; burnt out and constantly overstimulated from the dirt covered and squishy pink hell they’ve found themselves in. But sometimes on better days he cocks his head to the side, with a face that almost smiles at Cj and says, “Come Jones Junior; I appear to have some scraps we need to dispose off.” Which is code for we’re going to give your Pa an aneurysm and make things go boom.

He remembers his family. Tired, thirsty, hungry, eyes on them constantly. Countless sleepless nights in hushed voices arguing, strategising, weeping. They thought he didn’t hear. But children always have the biggest ears and the longest standing shelter on earth is only so large.

First and foremost. Cj knows. He knows with heart wrenching certainty. If there was any way to make peace with the present Hamatos it would all be over now. They’ll hate him. They will. They will never forgive him for this.

Maybe if this was his Mom, his Auntie April, his Da-Uncle Mi, his Uncle Tello, his Grandpa Drax. Whatever else Master Raphael and Master splinter might have been to him. They might just forgive him but these people are not them. They have not been softened with a lifetime of knowing Cj. He doesn’t have that baby of the family privilege. He doesn’t have any privilege at all. It’s only been a day. Less than that technically.

Even just the thought of being hated by his family. Any version of them, curdles something in his core. Every fiber in his being lashes out and screams at the younger version of his sensei. (Oh but it was Leonardo wasn’t it? Oh, what has he done?) In ways he hasn’t done since he was 8 years old, because poor 8 year old Casey hadn’t quite figured out how to breathe through the hunger pains. I’m a healer. I’m supposed to stop these things. Please, I already let go before you can’t make me do this again-

“Leo no! There has to be another way!”

But this Leonardo says;

“We’ve tried everything Case, he’s too strong”

And deep down Cj knows that too. Much like the lies his family told him. “We can win” He knows otherwise too. Just like if he does this, he knows he’ll be left with nothing too.

But his family will still be here, surrounded by food, clean water, light, and endless amount of comics or magazines they could possibly want. They will be free.

They will never know gnawing hunger or sapping thirst, nor will they know the ever present hum of runhidenotsafe. They will never know the unique kind of suffering that comes from grasping for strength to just open your eyes and breathe in a world that has already long given up on itself.

Cj has seen the future. He has lived and breathed and sometimes, even thrived in an era where the krang came. Where the sky was a bloody brown instead of this clear dark blue and people were driven to insanity and killed from the common cold. Where the sour smell of rot piled everywhere. No matter how much or how hard you scrubbed.

He remembers his Sensei, his Pa, wise, comforting, always ready with a witty comeback or a brilliant plan. He remembers his Commander O’Neil, his Auntie April, rousing, quick and endlessly enduring, the steady voice of reason where even Sensei’s wit dulled. But they were tired, so very tired. The burden of leadership and grief and all the aches and pains of hunger and thirst that can never be quenched, already a fully dressed tomb just waiting for them to hang up their coats and admit futility to the unsurmountable cold.

He remembers how much his family loved him. How hard they tried to scrape together any piece of warmth for him. Tired Golden-Orange heaves himself into the air, to scoop Cj into his arms. Busy Blue who takes any meagre time he has to himself and spends it with Cj. Prickly Purple finds away to colour all his armour a shade of teal, even his siblings are still decked in occasional shades of grey. Overstretched Green always ready to pull her brothers back and scold; too guilty, too smothering, too harsh. Stop. You’re hurting the kid.

If Cj doesn’t close this portal, if he keeps this open, if he disobeys-the Krang will just come back through. And they will plunge the earth into a bloody, poisoned hell.

And he knows that if not Leonardo, then someone else in their stupid, selfless, self-sacrificial family will take up the mantle of resistance, unable to stand idly by at people’s suffering. Because these people are good, so very good. The Hamatos will fight, they will try. And they will lose.

The force of their ire will break him. The thought alone makes him sob, hiccuping in a way he hasn’t done, not since he was found shrieking over a cold Uncle Tello and had to be wrenched away, kicking and screaming. But still holding on. Even to the very last second and beyond. Because he is Cassandra Jones Junjor and a Hamato in every way that matters and he could never leave family behind. At least back then he couldn’t feel mom die

But the apocalypse.. that long, slow, painful march to inevitable death, will break him too. It wasn’t always bad, they had fun, karaoke nights, hilarious attempts to make birthday cakes for kids like him. But fuck.. that doesn’t change the fact that they still lost. That they will all still loose. Cj doesn’t know if he can willingly doom them all again because that’s what he’s going to do isn’t it? They were all so tired, so hungry, so thirsty. How can he let them go through that again?

He remembers how much happier, and how much lighter they always looked in those old scarce photos.

Selfishly, Cj doesn’t know if he can survive through another 20 something years or however long they make it this time, through that hell again. Forced to slowly watch again, as the Krang chip away at his family. Chip away at the people he called his friends till everything, bright, lively and kind was carved out;Uncle Hiro I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry-

They will never love you again. A voice thunders, like the death roll of their final march just this morning where Cj was still breathing in corrupted air under rusty skies. If only he died there with them. Anything is better than having to do this.

I know. Cj shakes, trembling fingers wrap around the key. Casey can see the division between young and new, old and worn and knows he cannot let it blur and become one.

“Casey! Urgh-please!”

Anything. I will give anything, Casey weeps. Anything as long as they live. Casey squeezes his eyes shut.

And just like with Uncle Tello,

Casey finally lets go.

The portal to the prison dimension slams shut with a glorious boom.

Leo, I love you. I’m sorry.

I wish I got more time to know you.

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They scream at him. It’s Muffled, like the sensation of sound in the aftermath of a live grenade. They hurl all manner of abuse and venom at his face. He thinks he might be crying. Or maybe he’s not. His head feels tangled like the heaps of crusty old wires, Uncle Tello will never get the chance to unravel.

The shattered body of their Leonardo lies between them, like territory lines drawn between begrudging survivor groups. Cradled by a shaking soft shell. The blurry shapes of familiar voices once desperately calm and patient now roar,cutting and rightfully angry. It falls on his ears. He tries to grasp it, he does. He’s ruined everything, the least Cj can do now is listen.

But exhaustion gnaws at his very bones. Head pounding.

Nothing can explain this.

Nothing will justify this.

Severe head trauma, and shattered, collapsed carapace. Possible bruised and punctured lungs via pieces of loose carapace as the overall structure caved in, resulting in internal bleeding in the lungs and eventual asphyxiation. Patient chocked on his own blood. The field medic immediately drones internally, years of experience and training unable to be shut off (or rather, trained to never shut off) as listless eyes drift down to meet the unmoving slider.

It seems the one-sided eye contact is what finally breaks the softshell’s stupor. “Don’t you fucking dare.” The teen snarls, teeth flashing in all the ways he used to bare it at unwelcome visitors. But never at Casey. Never for long.

Wake up Jones. This is not your Uncle.

The rest of the group falls silent, shocked to see their previously silent family member speaking.

“You don’t get to look at him.” Achingly gentle, the purple branded softshell sets Leonardo onto the tiled floor.

Donatello stands. “You.” He hisses, pointing at Cj.

“You did this.”

Somewhere, somehow Cj manages to gather enough of himself to incline his head slightly in agreement. It’s the least he can do for them.

“Leave.” Donatello orders.

And like the good soldier he is, Cj does. Disappearing into the tunnels.

No one stops him.

<Part 1 | Next>

Sneak peak 2-!

Behold the scenes that kept playing in my brain that made want to do this entire thing in the first place 😂 it’s not done obvi but these are the main bits lol

I’m really proud of myself it turned out way better than I thought haha.

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for some context have this:

Let him go-

It’s the incident oop-

Soo Truce ? Haha.. Please ?

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I’m sorry dude. I know it hasn’t been too long but Cj is getting to a point where he’s losing his temper ( I can’t hold back the classic Jones rage any longer without making him Ooc 🥲,that and unfortunately at this particular point of the this au Cj is way to freshly traumatised, full of rage (and conditioned by the apocalypse to not result to extreme measures esp in a combat setting) to regulate himself so eh.. things can get dark pretty quickly if this keeps going and I don’t wanna go there, and tbh I’m just.. really really tired. This is rlly fun and thank you for reachin out to me but welp.. I just don’t have enough of spoons to juggle this and everything else. So uh yeh..I’m Sorry bud 😅 I can squeeze out at least one more part if you need me too but man I am reaching my limit😂😅

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Heather Hamato challenges Healer CJ to a mystic battle! Be warned, Heather's got top-notch ghost mystic powers and she's a gothic, autistic, bad girl,badass half tiger-half human teen and is a basic mini version of Dr.Delicate touch and mad scientist Tello. Her mystic powers make able to do anything a ghost can including banshee like screams, floating, communicate with the dead, some psychic stuff with her mind and turn in a ghost herself

(For more info on Heather and her twin brother Makoto visit my blog and search for the tags #Heather, #rottmnt next gen, #Makoto and #Rising to the challenge au!)

It’s not cheating XD

Mystic Tech in a Mystic battle haha.

Oiling gears and Changing shifts: Part 6,<End>

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See it was halfway thru this entire interaction that Dee remembered that Cj was seriously just that gosh darn earnest thing abt helping all of them. Seriously no one runs around like Cj did in [Helper] without being a little sincere. Plus coupled with the fact that he is mikey’s age ie: turning 15 that year. Donnie is a turtle of facts, given the crazy destruction the kraang caused in such a short time as well as whatever monstrosity he saw while he was connected to the technodrome he knows why closing the portal was deemed necessary.

He may not have done it if he were in Case’s shoes but he does get it. He does. So all in all Bro rlly just couldn’t stay mad. He’s still mad alright but he’s not mad at Cj(edit: he was mad at the beginning but now he’s had a good 5 days of cooling down and just watching Cj run around relentlessly). And yeh maybe he’s still coming around to the idea of a new family member but he’s definitely not opposed to it either, Case is a good kid who to the best of his knowledge been nothing but helpful, and him being able to kinda build stuff too? Now that’s a huge plus in Don’s books.

So there it is communication done! problem was solved! At least, from Donnie’s perspective XD. He severely underestimated the anxiety and abandonment issues of one very displaced apocalypse teen. Tho that’s not Donnie’s fault he gave his best shot by managing to calm down and then properly communicating his perspective to Cj while still extending some form of sympathy to the younger teen. So honestly, I’m proud of our emotionally constipated grape. He did a great job

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Also did I seriously change the shading again? Yes, yes I did. Art is for experimenting ✨

SNEAK PEAAKKK 1 !!

Never underestimate the paranoia of one ex-apocalypse child soldier 😂 tho ngl, mystic suppressor aside, the fact that he’s even talking much less explaining anything at all is so out of character for him haha. Gosh it’s almost like he’s doing everything he can to de-escalate and keep this as light-hearted as possible haha geez wonder why? What could possibly make him so unwilling to use offensive mystic I say extremely sarcastically XD

Heather Hamato challenges Healer CJ to a mystic battle! Be warned, Heather's got top-notch ghost mystic powers and she's a gothic, autistic, bad girl,badass half tiger-half human teen and is a basic mini version of Dr.Delicate touch and mad scientist Tello. Her mystic powers make able to do anything a ghost can including banshee like screams, floating, communicate with the dead, some psychic stuff with her mind and turn in a ghost herself

(For more info on Heather and her twin brother Makoto visit my blog and search for the tags #Heather, #rottmnt next gen, #Makoto and #Rising to the challenge au!)

It’s not cheating XD

Mystic Tech in a Mystic battle haha.

Healer!Cj updated ref letsgoooo

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Ok so, refreshing and expanding on this original post: Once again I made Casey a healer cuz of his expressive and kind personality. plus how he was raised by the Hamatos meaning he defo inherited the classic Hamato brand of overprotectiveness towards family(esp cuz everyone kept dying :’)). It gave me the impression that deep down; despite his obvious feistiness what Casey truly wants is for his family to stay alive and safe, esp in the apocalypse.

BUT aside form emotional reasons, there is a practical aspect to all this (that I wanted to focus on) that someone can only have because they grew up in such a brutal environment. And it is this, Cj has healing powers because time and time again he has seen even the strongest people die not directly from the Kraang but from the aftermath of injuries and various illnesses.

He is intimately of the fragile nature of a flesh and bone body and the many ways it can fail. It’s how be lost his mom, it’s how he lost uncle Tello and he’s pretty sure it’s how they lost Master Raphael. In the end, the biggest enemy wasn’t the Kraang but the fact that the resistance lacked the resources to heal and maintain able bodies that could fight/work to produce resource etc etc. what good is being a good fighter If we’re all going to bleed out the same? So what to do?

Welp, Like any Casey would, he saw a gap. And where they lacked equipment or proper medicine, he was determined to fill it in whatever way he could. Subconsciously or not.

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Which brings me to the secondary ability, this death power isn't cuz life/ death are like two sides of the same coin (tho ngl the theme worked out so well esp with his mask kidna looking like a skull). Much like his healing powers it’s deeply rooted in his upbringing in an apocalypse. dragging out fights in the apocalypse is fatal. Time and time again he has seen even the best fighters (his family included) die either in action or seeing them die or almost die due to sustained injuries becuz a fight was dragged out for too long and they just got more injuried.

Efficiency (aka finishing a fight fast) is key to survival and what can end a fight faster than literally draining opponents of life? It’s an insta-kill in the right circumstances. Bro is not here to play around. He is here to survive. And in a brutal environment like an invasion style-apocalypse?90% of the time if you’re forced to fight it’s means only one of you is coming out alive. Casey knows this. It’s an understanding that’s etched into his very soul. But hey, the good news is that this absorption of energy can help balance out/reduce the strain that comes from giving too much of himself away cuz the healing.

Of course like the healing (too much giving away can literally turn him into a dried up corpse or ya know, the cursed accelerated aging) this power has limitations. One, is that obviously enemies aren't going to be dumb and just stay in the very bright very obviously glowy field. So they’re gonna do everything they can to leave and he’s gonna have to fight to keep them in.

Second, if his opponent is drastically stronger/heavier than him physically and mystically. It means they have more energy than he can realistically hold (it’s like trying to scoop up the ocean with a cup, it’s gonna overflow) this means if he ever tries to drain them fully dry, the energy which then gets converted to mystic energy will eventually overload and leak out from whenever it’s safely stored and eat away at his body and kill him instantly (tho that depends on how bad the leakage is not all leakage is instantly fatal). Which is why no, Case can’t single handedly take on the Kraang/OP opponents, physical limitations aside, he’ll die from the mystic overload before he ever makes it close to draining them dry. That is, if they don’t beat him to a pulp first 😅

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Also on another note hehe that there is also a fun little passive ability built into both the healing and the draining/decay which I can’t quite get into here cuz it’ll be spoilers for a certain comic I’m working on. But I will say this, this passive ability is smth that makes both active powers quite.. unpleasant especially when things go wrong. So hey be on the look out for that 😜 But welp that’s the price you pay for organic energy manipulation 😂

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Edit: For anyone wondering Casey unlocked his Ninpo and started training when he was 10. This made him 14 when the decay thing kicked in. For this Au, The movie takes place a few months (or weeks or heck maybe a few days after he turned 15, I’m still working out the timeline) before he turned 15. So not alot of time to train AND plus the mental block from the passive ability it’s why the decay thing doesn’t ever show up in the movie. Overall there was a high chance his inexperience/apprehension (you gotta rmb he spent 5 years strongly associated as the healer kid, the sudden switch and what it said about parts of himself he’d rather not address rlly shook him and everyone around him up) could lead to him accidentally taking from the P!Hamato fam and seeing as I established how this decay can be an insta-kill in the right circumstances. Casey doesn’t want to risk it.

Heather Hamato challenges Healer CJ to a mystic battle! Be warned, Heather's got top-notch ghost mystic powers and she's a gothic, autistic, bad girl,badass half tiger-half human teen and is a basic mini version of Dr.Delicate touch and mad scientist Tello. Her mystic powers make able to do anything a ghost can including banshee like screams, floating, communicate with the dead, some psychic stuff with her mind and turn in a ghost herself

(For more info on Heather and her twin brother Makoto visit my blog and search for the tags #Heather, #rottmnt next gen, #Makoto and #Rising to the challenge au!)

It’s not cheating XD

Mystic Tech in a Mystic battle haha.

THANK YOU FOR YOUR ACCEPTANCE ❤️

AND I ACCEPT YOUR CHALLENGE WE FIGHT AT DAWN!!

I accidentally deleted your boop 🥲

So pls accept this gifless BOOP

As an apology 🙏🙏

😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

I accept UR apology....however

I NOW DECLARE MY ROTTMNT OC HEATHER AND UR HEALER CASEY JR AT WAR!!!!!!

Snippet/Fic: The broken off branch

• some rambling rambles I can came up with thinking bout F!Mikey and P!Mikey from Cj’s pov. I didn’t rlly have a thing in mind for this, so my bad if it’s a little all over the place 😂😅 Just figured I might as well put this out there seeing as I ended up writing quite a bit for this anyways 😂

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Life always seemed to find a way to pull the ground out beneath him. Although in hindsight, Cj really should have known better. Logically speaking he knows the apocalypse had left a heavy toll on his family, changed them in ways that would not otherwise have naturally occured. He could see it in the free unrestrained way the youngers would clamber on top of each other, laughing, shouting, shoving, sometimes shaking. But nothing, could quite prepare him for the shift that was Michelangelo.

Master Michelangelo or Uncle Mi, sometimes dad, was the light, the warmth of the resistance, always there to lend a helping hand or be a shoulder to cry on. Able to calm anyone down no matter the heated the argument. Unwavering in his hope and optimism. “Tomorrow can always be a better day” he had said, calm, unhurried as ever, never one to raise his voice (unless you were a certain pair of disaster twins) and always taking great joy to speak in swirling riddles with a wink and a tired but twinkling smile. Privately Cj always thought Uncle Mi just enjoyed watching the confusion on people’s face rather than the riddles itself.

Casey thought he knew him. Thought he would be able to see strands of his Uncle in Mikey. Seeds of behaviour that under certain circumstances Cj could logically see how it blossom into the man he grew up under.

And the ravenette did, edges of the Doctor Feelings that sounded just a little too much like when Uncle Mi had to play mediator between pent up resistance members or stressed out siblings. The unwavering belief that tomorrow could always be a better day. It was all there but it came out wrong. Instead of a clear path he could see, from point a to point b, it was all warped, broken. As if someone had broken their bone and clumsily tried to splint it back togather. Once straight bones now crooked in alignment, it fit, but the roots was now broken and disjointed held together by broken joints where once strong, healthy and naturally branching roots should have been.

The sparking relentless energy Mikey carried as he bounced from one project to another, frantic hand gesturing and all about the murals he couldn’t wait to draw, the food he wanted to make, it all ran completely and utterly contrary to the calm and subtle mischief of his uncle. It seemed that out of everyone, the apocalypse had changed Michelangelo the most. Hacked away a core fundamental part of his being and beat into him a calmness and quietness what was once loud, vivid and booming.

And.. and it broke his heart. Left Cj feeling wrong footed and empty. How could he ever call himself Uncle Mi’s nephew, (much less his son ohgodpushitdown.) if he knew so so little of the man?

Even Leo for all his showboating had a sharp wit, protectiveness and sense of humour that run identical to his sensei. Donnie kept his stiff dramatic abeit much more prideful attitude than his Uncle tello but nevertheless just as loving and April remained a fiercely tenacious, resourceful and steadfast pillar. Frankly, it was more uncanny how little she changed. Even Cassandra, for little as he remembered his mother had remained a relentless, barreling force. Albeit more subdued. And Drax was as no nonsense and reluctantly affectionate as ever, though he was a tad bit better at showing he cares in Cj’s time than the present.

What happened to you? Is this what the Apocalypse would have done to you? Is this what having to raise me had done to you?

(“But you promised you’d come hang out with me today! You promised!”

The greying turtle stares down at the faded ball beside his feet and then to the pile of well-read magazines to the corner. A cloud passes across his face. Dark, considering. He wants, Ancestors, does Mikey want. But his brain feels like mush and his limbs heavy like lead. “I’m so sorry big man.” He smiles quietly at the disappointed 8 year old. His facial muscles already aching from that small exertion alone. “Maybe next time k’ay? Uncle Mi is feeling real tired today.”

The cloud does not dissipate.)

Can you mourn for a version of someone who never existed, has never existed and now will never exist again?

A smaller, much scalier hand reaches out from the corner of his eyes.

“Cj, Ceej? You good? I’ve been calling for you for the past 5 minutes.”

He was? Shit. Jerking upwards, the ravenette tears his eyes away from a wall he didn’t know he was staring at and angles his face towards the turtle hovering by the subway car entrance. Was the-his room (and wasn’t that’s a concept that still took getting used to?) always so dark? Man was he really just sitting in the dark staring off into space for who knows how long until Michelangelo-Mikey found him? Jeezus Talk about embarrassing.

“I’m good. I’m good. I Promise.” Casey nods quickly. “Sorry for spacing out.”

“Are you sure..?” The box turtles eyes dart nervously back and forth from Cj to the floor then to the Cj again. “Can I.. come in?”

Ok, he takes it back. There is one thing Uncle Mi and Mikey were identical in. They both treated him so carefully sometimes. Actually, now that he thinks about it, the whole gang, save Draxum and Cassandra, treats him so carefully sometimes it made him want to scream.

“Ye-es. Mikey.” Casey rolls his eyes annoyed, but still making sure to smile to let the fellow fifteen year old know it was all in good fun.

“Oh. Well Oki-doki then~!” Mikey beams, skipping into the train car. Immediately plopping himself beside the empty space next to Cj and leaning against him. Casey grins in response, welcoming the contact.

“Wait..” The orange turtle’s eyes narrow suspiciously at a corner just a little to the boy’s right. “ARE THOSE MY STICKERS ?!”

A light bubbling sensation tickles his chest. Foreign but not unwelcome. “Are they? I don’t know what you’re talking about ” The teen smirks.

“Case! You can’t keep stealing mine!”

He blows a raspberry.

Mikey lunges forward.

Laughing, Casey dances out the way. “You can’t be mad at me! I’m from the apocalypse!” The human singsongs as he makes a beeline for the exit.

“You can’t keep using that card forever!”

“I can! And I will !”

Maybe it was all wrong. Maybe the war and the apocalypse had dug its fangs into his beloved Uncle and he came out a little more distorted than he would have liked. But here in this space, under the safety of the earth that should have long collapsed before Cj was even born, he watches his uncle sometimes-teacher-sometimes-father, now turned brother chase him through the lair. And thinks maybe just maybe, his uncle would have thought this hacking away worth it, if the world and by extension, Casey himself could continue to have moments like this too.

Hello!

I LOVE your story!!! CJ having healing Ninpo is so genius and it’s making my brain run wild with possibilities!

Are there any tidbits you’d like to share about the au? Also could you possibly explain what happened with CJ aging due to Ninpo (in the latest update)?

(No need to answer any of the questions if you do not want to)

AWESOME COMIC, AWESOME STORY, AWESOME ART!!! I can’t wait to see more!!!

Hope you have a great day ^-^

BDJDHDHDHDHD Aww dude stop you have no idea how happy this makes me 😭 I’m so so so happy you love my au!! 💗💗💗 I love the concept of Casey with healing powers! He’s has a temper but I still think suits him so well given how protective he is as a person ahah!! And I’m so glad there are ppl out there who agree with me too! But Hehe yesss join me join me in my healer!Cj brain worms hehehe

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Hmm since you asked bout the aging(and that’s a little complicated) I’ll answer that first. So I can’t go into too much detail cuz that will spoilers for a comic and some other art that will explain everything! ..Maybe😂 But I will say this. Cj unlocked his Ninpo when he was 10 he was fine, he was aging normally. Till a certain incident happened when he was 11 and well.. we all know what happened next, freshly baked trauma and he aged a couple years forward overnight plus some extra long term injuries (that I will go into later).

The good news is that as long as he doesn’t push himself like that again he will be aging mostly linearly again? But the damage has alr been done 😅. But anyways, after the incident, he never pushed himself like that again. One, cuz the Hamato fam would never allow it and Two, cuz the recovery period is so long/bad (cuz Cj is no master and worse he’s a literal child unlike Mikey who was in his early 20s when the cursed Aging started) no one can afford for him to be knocked out of commission like that again. It makes him wayy too vulnerable.

Post-incident, at his worst he has only aged a few days forward but cuz that’s so small no one except Master Michelangelo (cuz he’s a mystic master and cuz he’s also in the same boat) can tell the difference. Plus it’s so negligible it doesn’t technically matter.

But long story short, pulling himself tgt from that incident physically and mentally took loooonnng time haha. But as you can see even now it still leaves its scars haha and probably always will.

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As for any other tidbits? Oh gosh where do I start ? Ahh there is just so much to say! Ok update wise I’m actually working a PMV for Healer!Cj so if I go quiet for a while that’s why. Idk how long it’s gonna take but I’m excited to show some sneak peaks along the way lol. This is my first time doing something like this so here’s to hoping it goes well!

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Lore wise: although Cj does have a subway car in the lair. Once he gets more settled in he actually bounces around quite a bit. Boy was not meant to stay in one place for too long. While he does spent most of the week at the lair cuz the underground is familiar too him, he will spend 3-4 days crashing on the couch at April/Casey’s apartment. And on a rare blue moon he’ll give Draxum a heart attack 😂 by breaking into his apartment and sleeping on that old man’s couch. After a while it becomes their own little inside joke 😂. Draxum tries Cj-proof his apartment using mystic or otherwise and Cj makes it a point to still try and sneak in.

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And the surprise of no one. In this Au, Uncle Mi is Cj’s favourite uncle. Sometimes second pesudo dad. But mostly on accident by a very sleep deprived Cj.

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I have plans for P!Casey to eventually develop Ninpo a few years down the line. But I can’t think of any powers for her so if ya’ll got any suggestions pls fire away.

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And oh P!Leo is gonna permanently need a leg brace. Sometimes on rlly rlly bad days, he will need to use a crutch (not that he ever does cuz he’s wayy to stubborn) but you get the picture.

Raph’s eye is permanently gone, Donnie and his shell will heal but bro will have chronic back pain for life plus certain parts of his shell where the tendrils dug into the thickest are now numb cuz ya know, nerve damage from being literally ripped out the technodrone. Mikey will need to wear compression gloves but his shaking gets significantly better over time. So he draw but he still needs to every two months or so he can get pretty bad flareups which are jsut Oof.

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Good news is April is fine aside from a broken arm during the invasion that will heal. Splinter was surprisingly not that badly injured just a few pulled muscles here and there. And Cj is Obvi fine too aside from a minor concussion that he got prior to time traveling. Which to him was basically nothing. The reactions by everyone else was hilarious and a major culture shock for Cj. Turns out his apocalypse pain scale was drastically different to their normal not apocalypse pain scale.

It was hilarious the gang were like: “you’ve running around taking care of us a lot. Are you good?”

Cj: “yup all fine. Just a few bumps and scrapes”

8 Hours later..

Cj: “It looks like everyone’s settled? Great. I’ll go grab painkillers for my concussion now.”

Them: “I THOUGHT YOU SAID YOU WERE GOOD!?”

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Long story short no one escaped the failed invasion unscathed :’D but also whoops sorry for the long ramble 😅 this kidna got away for me 😂

*Laughs Maniacally * y’all thought me making Cj 15 and getting rid of his beard when I draw him in the present was a personal preference and that I was gonna ignore his canon much physically older appearance. BUT ALAS YOU WERE WRONG YOU FOOLS BAHAHAHA

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On another note it does make sense that Cj would eventually overuse his Ninpo. He has HEALING powers in an APOCALYPSE. Try as the future!Hamato fam might try to protect him, he is too valuable to not use. And everyone knows it. Plus this is Cj, his self-sacrificial and protective nature towards family that is par the course as a Hamato wouldn’t let him stop even if it severely freaks him out.

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Gosh this just adds a whole new level of context to this does it? XD

Do I have assessments due? Yeh. Should I be studying? Probably 😂But like most things this just grabbed hold of my brain and won’t let go so here we are XD

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But on a more serious note I think we’ve all felt this at some point or at least we all will eventually feel this. Esp as you get older and your body starts to fail or for those who ever got diagnosed with a life changing condition.. things just.. get hard when it used to be so easy.Esp if you’re also at that age (eg: teens/early 20s) where it should be your golden years you just.. get so angry. If that’s you then I’m sorry.. that this is happening to you. And I’m sorry that no one save God can take this away, but if nothing else, I hope you know, Anatawa hitorijanai.

Oiling gears and Changing shifts:Part 5, <Next!>

You know it’s bad when it’s Donnie trying to give a pep talk 😂

That’s how ya know it’s the end of the world lmao.

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Oiling gears and Changing shifts:Part 4, <Next!>

Full disclaimer folks! This is not how you help someone with a panic attack :’D

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Slightly off topic but I think a pretty badly overlooked part abt whole Cj’s lone survivor situation is that he didn’t just loose his family. He lost his whole community. This is the resistance, these are the last vestiges of earth’s ppl (human,mutant, yokai alike). Cramped tgt in such a small space He had to have personally known some ppl or at least must have known everyone’s name, or even felt some general kinship with them. And to loose all that in an instant? To have some of these ppl not just dead but possibly never being born? It has to have left an impact. He couldn’t possibly be ok with that. Annd hence this panel:

UNLEASHE DOCTOR DELICATE TOUCH JR!!!!! THERE MUST BE ONLY CHAOS!!!!

PATIENCE FRIEND IN DUE TIME DOCTOR DECLICATE TOUCH JR AKA HEALER JONES SHALL WALK AMONG USS AND IT WILL BE GLORIOUSSSSssss

Not to push buuuut.........I'm desperate to see more chaotic Casey jr adventures!!!! I wanna see the boi in complete doctor delicate touch mode alongside with his mentor doctor delicate touch!! Plz!

Haha no you’re not pushing at all! Like dude you cannot believe how excited I am to draw Cj in chaos mode 😂 I am vibrating legit vibrating. but BUT I gotta set a solid foundation of first 🥲 gotta get all the icky feelings and adjustment period out of the way and set the baseline for dynamics first before the fun can begin. But once’s that outta the way.. Hehe.. >:D

But for now, pls accept this quick sketch as peace offering 😂 (I know you said mentor but I’m taking some creative liberties cuz a double doctor delicate touch would mean smth went rlly, rlly dark/wrong like Leo pulled a imma lock myself in the prison dimension again vibes Which I’m assuming is not the vibes you want for this ask. Also I’m gonna go with P!Mikey for this cuz for my au, causing chaos tgt also doesn’t rlly fit into F!Mikey and Jr’s dynamic🥲, sadly Miguel’s old bones + reduced energy thanks to the whole Ninpo overuse and cursed ageing rlly made things like that hard for him. It made a lot of things hard for him ngl. Plus pulling chaos tgt was a more Uncle Tello and Cj thing. Sooooo):

Oiling Gears and Changing shifts: Part 3,<Next!>

.

Did someone order a panic attack??? No?? Well shit we’re getting on anyways-

It’s for the plot I swear. It’ll all be worth it in the end.

[Fic] So let’s try this again:

- See I wanted to make this a comic but then I felt it would lack a certain nuance and complexity of character povs that I wanted to to delve into. Cuz man there is just so much to say about these two and their dynamic, Soo Fic it is! Pls go easy on me, guys I’m not much of a writer and these guys are hard to write for me 🥲

—

“Wow, guess Donald was right.” Came a chuckle, “You are like a little shadow.”

And Casey freezes, hands barely hovering over Leo’s arms. Suddenly he’s seven years old again, caught red handed peeking through a little crack into meeting room.

A crooked grin, spreads itself across the slider’s face. “Hey shadow” His voice lilts playfully. So much younger and so much lighter yet still so achingly familiar, that if Casey hadn’t already spent 10 days into past? the present? being punched with that oh so wonderful cocktail of grief-nostalgia-fondness, he would have burst into tears already.

Instead, Casey smiles wryly. Awkwardly shuffling away from the bedside. “Sorry I didn’t mean to wake you. I just wanted to check on your injuries”. He raises a brow “I can go if you want..?”

“Nah it’s cool. I’ve been sleeping lots anyways.”

“You were in a coma” The human deadpans.

“Eh.. same thing.” Sensei-no just Leo now,shrugs.

“It’s really not.” Casey snorts. A beat. A pause. And then because he’s been holding onto this for too long and his mom didn’t raise no coward. And Uncle Mi didn’t teach him to be the kind of person who doesn’t apologise. Because Leo’s been awake for two days now, cmon Casey you can’t hold onto this forever-

“I’m sorry.”

“Whaat? I’m sorry? Sorry for what?” The slider laughs, tilting his head to the side. “Did you ruin my very rare first edition Jupiter Jim saves a cat comic?”

“Well..no.”

“Then you got nothing to be sorry for” Leo smiles, a clear attempt at lightening the mood.

But Casey won’t let him. This needs to be said. Nervous, the teen wrings his hands together. “I meant what I said in the tunnels.”

“Ah. That.” The blue toned slider falters ever so slightly. “It’s fine!” He grins brightly, casually waving Casey away. Too casual. Because of course he is. They are different. But Sensei and Leo shared a past together once. And it shows.

“You were right,” Leo continues, “I was being arrogant and I wasn’t listening to my team itz all good.”

“Well yeh, I wasn’t wrong there.” Frustrated, Casey yanks a hand through his hair. “But I was being too harsh. I was expecting you to be like Sensei when I shouldn’t have. It’s not fair.”

“Yeh… You shouldn’t have.” Leo agrees, looking away. Uncharacteristically quiet from what Casey has seen of him over his two day (and currently halfway through his third) long coherency.

Oh Shell, He’s just made this worse didn’t he?

“That’s not what I meant” Casey’s hands ball into fists. Should he hug Leo? Would that be too weird? Hugs were for family, he was only a stranger. “I- I’m not good with words.” The ravenette groans, wringing his hands together again.

“It’s not about you. But it’s not not about you, you know?” He gestures to the bed ridden turtle emphatically. “It’s about all of you guys. Your family loves you. Their Leo, not Master Leonardo. You don’t need to be anything else. You’re enough just the way you are. Michelangelo wouldn’t have opened that portal otherwise. They need you, just as much as you need them.”

An indiscernible flash flickers across the other’s face. But he quickly relaxes back into a smile. “Hmm.. If you say so” Leo drawls, perfect mask. Perfect play. But something in his shoulders ease ever so slightly. So Casey has hope that there is something that sticks.

A silence then descends upon the Med Bay. It drags on and lingers. Both parties not knowing what else to say. Casey’s about to go excuse himself, when Leo opens his mouth. “You know we’re your family too right?”

The younger teen blinks. “Huh?”

“We’re your family too.” The turtle repeats. Narrowing his eyes firmly. “Look, I dunno what’s been going on this past week. but knowing the others, they’re probably just trying to figure out how to broach that ‘ole subject with you without making you uncomfortable”

Wisely Cj only hums and says nothing. Knowing whatever he says would sound about as unconvinced as he feels. Tell that to my Ninpo he wants to say bitterly. Tell that to every conversation he’s turned stilted and cold, because he’s slipped up and believed for a second that things were one and the same.

(When mom died, April it was you brushed my hair. And taught me how to tie my hair.

Michelangelo you always encouraged me to draw on our walls till the last of our chalk was gone.

Donatello you let me sleep in your lab even on the days you banned even Sensei from coming in.

And Leo- .. Leonardo you were everything. You who used to tie my shoelaces and the first to come running when I cried.

I can recite the lines from so many different Lou Jitsu movies I never got to see.)

He must not hide it as well he thinks. Because Leo shoots him the most exasperated -are you serious look-.

“Dude, Dad and Raph found a subway car for you. April snuck you a discount at her new workplace. And shell-!” Leo throws his hands up, “Donnie let you fix our cameras, and don’t even get me started on how Mikey lets you help him in his kitchen even though I’m his favourite brother and I’m banned.” Leo grumbles, crossing his arms together.

“I- I guess you do have a point .” Despite his best efforts, Casey ducks his head down and his eyes begin to burn. Boy, Casey is really starting to hate how much sense Leo is making. For all the differences between Sensei and Leonardo, why did the universe have to give them the one similarity that lets them talk their way into whatever they want and making Casey agree with them? Perhaps.. perhaps what Casey had Misconstrued as polite obligation was maybe something deeper after all.. ?

“Course, I do. I’m awesome.” Leo smirks, flicking his mask tails with a flourish that has Casey resisting the urge to groan and roll his eyes.

“I know it won’t be the same. But you are family Case. I promise you. All of this means something. We won’t let you be alone” His eyes soften, “You’re my family.” And it’s true, Leo does not know Casey. In his eyes, it’s been a little under 72 hours since he’s met Casey. And only 48 hours since all hell broke loose. But hell could have been so much worse and he can see everything.

The expertly wrapped bandages around Mikey arms and Donnie’s shell, the carefully filled resin over the hole, they had so graciously given his biggest brother’s shell, with such precision his beloved purple twin couldn’t hope (nor want) to achieve. Corners of the med bay that had been gathering dust now suspiciously clean. Faithfully ushering their sister to and fro the lair. Heck even the way the oily haired teen (which ew gross, someone really had to go teach that kid how to wash his hair) was hovering over him now, taking shifts so his father and brothers and sister could rest.

Casey didn’t have to do those things. He owed them nothing. They weren’t the people who raised him. He could have just up and left once the initial invasion was over, he didn’t have to try so hard. Once it became clear that Leo, and by extension the others, were nothing like the people Casey grew up with. But he didn’t, he stayed. He cares. He cares so much.

And Shell, if that didn’t make Casey family, Leo didn’t know what will. If he could tolerate Baron ‘you threw me of a roof’ Draxum into his family he can definitely accept Casey.

A strangled noise breaks him from his thoughts, Leo comes back to himself to see a sniffing, now crying Junior.

“Ok bring it in, little brother” Leo grins smirking fondly, spreading his arms wide (because yes, of course one of the first things Leo asked, once he established Raph, Donnie, Mikey, April and dad were ok. Was what was Casey’s age. He needed to know if he could rub his age into Casey’s face. He needed his shit-eating grin older brother rights damn it!). Immediately, Casey rushes forward sobbing, wrapping his arms around the turtle as tightly as he can without further aggravating the other boy’s injuries.

“I’m so glad you’re here Leo.” He chokes out wetly, the tears he had been holding back for this entire interaction now freely flowing because truly, this was all he really wanted. He could never and would never ask the present Hamato family to be crushed under the same weight his guardians had been. All he asked was to be loved, and not alone. And sure he still had a lot of doubts but maybe, just maybe, Leo was right and he wasn’t as alone or unloved as he thought.

(He is future boy, freshly uprooted and fumbling blindly but maybe, just maybe not nearly the lone orphan without a home)

“I couldn’t have lost you twice” Casey shudders, burying his head deeper into Leo’s shoulder.

“And now you won’t. It’s all thanks to you.” Leo replies determinedly, tightening his grip around the other boy. And then in a much quieter, more vulnerable voice, he adds,

“I’m so glad I’m here too.” Because he was, Leo most truly and definitely was.

(And somewhere, deep down subdued, not so isolated teal begins to tentatively reach towards waiting blueredpurpleorangegreenwhitepink maroon and pulse a little less weakly again)