Chapter Text
“Oh come on, Raph! We’re gonna miss it!” Leo whined. He excitedly smacked his crutch against Raph’s shin, and Raph grunted an amused exhale.
“No, we’re not. It hasn’t even started yet.”
“But there might be commercials before it,” Leo fussed. He moved closer to the doorway to the living room, bouncing between his toes and the crutch. “They might announce a new generation of action figures. Remember the Alternate Atomic lineup? That was announced before the marathon leading up to the release of the solo movie; Atomic Lass . And all the clues to which stores the rare Atomic Lass figures were sold at were dropped during the commercials. Donnie missed it cuz he got up to grab juice and apples, don’t you remember?”
Raph heaved a long sigh, scooping up both his and Leo’s popcorn bowls. “Raph remembers. Raph remembers Donnie dragging us to every single store in a 5 mile radius.”
Leo nodded. “Exactly! We almost had to go to Staten Island. Dad would have had our shells for going that far from home, but Dee found one in the very last store in Brooklyn.”
Leo zipped toward the living room, tapping along in front of Raph. He cut a corner around the couch, opting to dive sideways over the armrest into his usual spot. The couch cushions caved as he landed, making Mikey tip over with a surprised squeak. He’d been on his phone and hadn’t seen Leo vault into place.
Raph took his place dead center on the couch, squeezing between the laughing slider and box turtle as they finegaled trying to sit up. They shifted out of the way just long enough for Raph to sit, then immediately squished on either side of him to get comfortable. Raph handed Leo his popcorn.
“What are you so worked up about action figures for?” Raph teased. He grinned, wide and knowing, “Is there a specific one you’re hoping they announce?”
Leo threw popcorn in his mouth.
Raph laughed and grinned wider. “I knew it, HA! I so knew it. You’re looking for one!”
“Oh, oh oh! Lemme guess! It’s the Blue Beyond suit variant of Red Fox!” Mikey supplied. He was leaning around Raph, trying to gauge Leo’s reaction.
“What about the All Platinum Jupiter Jim, classic re-run?” Raph wondered.
Leo shook his head, shoveling in more popcorn and maintaining a smile that said * I’ll never tell, but sure keep guessing* .
“Oh puh-lease, it’s neither of those,” Donnie announced from the depths of his favorite beanbag. He sipped from a long curly straw, which cascaded from two cans of pop situated on either side of his head, replacing his usual goggles. He smirked triumphantly.
Leo fixed him with a cocky, questioning look. “Oh yeah? Then, what does your big-brain think it is? Guess .”
Donnie was more than happy to.
“Based on internet chatter over the new line, Nardo is hoping for the long awaited and far overdue announcement of the Seven Galaxies generation of figures. Namely, among them, the suave, rogue rabbit Heron Lightfoot .”
Leo sputtered and quickly swallowed his mouthful of popcorn. He leaned forward, shocked. “HOW?!”
Donnie just cackled and shimmied deeper into the beanbag.
“Omigosh, WAIT, the rabbit guy? From the enemy ship?” Mikey mused.
Leo grinned in disbelief.
“The one with the super long headband tails?” Raph asked, thinking back on his memories of the film. “The one you thought looked so cool because he wore the headband over his eyes to hide his true identity as Muriel Cottontail’s long lost sibling?”
Mikey gasped, “IS THAT where you got the idea of wearing our masks like that?! And you thought you looked soooo cool when you started it, and we all copied you?” Mikey giggled menacingly, weighing his next choice of words. “And why you wear your mask tails so long to this day ?”
Raph barked out a laugh. Leo huffed and sank back into the couch. Donnie looked downright victorious, snickering and turning to gossip with Mikey about the other figures in the lineup. Another presence sweeping into the Lair turned all their attention toward the closest archway.
“April!” Raph twisted on the couch, and both Mikey and Leo had to duck down under his swinging elbows as the snapper peered over the back. “You made it!”
April stopped to lean against the doorway frame for effect, winking and clicking her tongue alongside dual finger guns as she made her entrance. Her right arm was still in a cast and sling, but she made due. A plastic bag swung wildly from the crook of her left arm. Mikey made grabby hands at it.
“Did you find them?” he asked.
“Slow down, big man. I did, as sure as my name is O’Neil.” April said. She planted herself at the edge of the couch next to Mikey, perched on the arm rest, and slid the bag off her arm. She handed Mikey a package of sour *All Lemon* gummy worms. He snatched them and immediately tore the package open, offering her one before reaching in and grabbing three at once.
April fished in the bag again, and produced a bag of Spicy Chicken Ramen flavored potato chips. Donnie glanced her way expectantly, and she tossed them over. He grappled for them, but missed.
Leo laughed. “Nice catch Donnie.”
Donnie ignored him and retrieved the chips from where they landed, popping the bag open and diving right in. Raph craned his neck in curiosity to read the package label. Already happily chewing a chip, Donnie extended the bag so Raph could try one. Both Raph and Mikey swept in to grab a chip each, both making faces to various degrees at the spice. Mikey stuck his tongue out and took a drink of pop, but Raph smiled and accepted Donnie’s offer for a second chip from the bag.
“How do you guys even like those?” Leo mused, wrinkling his nose.
“You’re just mad you can’t take the heat,” Raph needled, with absolutely no heat in the words.
Leo replied with a sassy nonsense-noise and a dorky face. The TV screen projection faded to black before starting a countdown: t-minus two minutes.
“HUSH! It’s starting,” Splinter spoke from his armchair.
The countdown ticked on as the living room simmered into expectant silence.
“Wait,” Leo whispered, “Where’s Case’?”
“Hmm?” Raph asked, the only one close enough to actually hear his question. The others glanced over, not having heard.
“Casey,” Leo said, “He was napping off a nasty headache. I texted him it was gonna start soon, but …”
“He probably is still sleepin’,” Raph said.
“He did mention a headache earlier,” Mikey added. “He looked pretty tired.”
“SHHH!” Splinter enunciated, a voice obscured by his armchair.
The living room was silent for a count of 5, before April sighed and stood up.
“I’ll go check on him, just in case,” she said. “He did say a couple days ago he wanted to watch this.”
She left, and the others hunkered down in their seats, comfortable.
April’s returning footsteps a few seconds later were swift and impatient.
“He’s not in his room,” she said, an edge to her voice. Everyone, Splinter included, looked up at the announcement.
“What?” Raph asked.
“He isn’t there,” April elaborated. “I knocked on the bathroom to be sure, but his shoes and mask are gone, too.”
Leo frowned heavily, and Donnie sat up in the beanbag.
“You’re sure he’s not here?” Leo asked.
“Sure as pigeons eat pizza,” April replied. Calm as she was trying to be, she was still concerned. It wasn’t the first time Casey had opted to meander on his own. But it was the first time he ignored pre-made plans, and unexpected.
“Hmmm,” Leo hummed. He pulled his knees close to himself, crossing his arms atop them.
“I can confirm,” Donnie said, eyes fixed on projections from his gauntlet. “His tracker … uh, well, that’s odd.”
“Odd? Odd how?” Leo asked, snapping his attention to his twin. He tried to read the projection from the backside, which he figured would be a cinch if all his time as a kid decoding backwards messages in library books about Magic had taught him anything.
Donnie’s gaze flicked across the data, searching and disappointed. “His tracker has some sort of interference, and I can’t get a good read on it. It keeps … flickering, in and out. In different places? But his phone is reading steadily on the surface.” Donnie tapped the projected map, which zoomed in on a blinking point. “Somewhere in Manhattan.”
“Casey actually agreed to let you put a tracker on him?” Raph asked, curious despite the tension in the air.
Leo was typing, texting, focused on his phone.
“He did,” Donnie stated, “I’d only been able to track him based on his phone’s location at first. But when I offered to implant a Genius-Built chip, he said he actually already had one. And he did! It was future-me’s, and miracle of all miracles I was able to patch it into my code! Absolutely amazing.” Donnie rambled, “Although, the interference on his tracking chip is throwing me off. There’s nothing that should break that signal. Especially if made by a future smarter me. Not even being underground in the depths of the Hidden City.”
“Well, he’s not down there,” April said, leaning over to study the map. “He’s up top. Why is his phone getting signal but not the tracker?”
“Don’t ask me!” Donnie said with exasperation. “I – and no doubt my future self – stress tested my trackers for every variable I could imagine . It shouldn’t be bugging out like this!”
“And Casey’s not answering,” Leo said. He frowned at the screen, quickly scrolling. “He didn’t even open my texts earlier.”
“Maybe he got locked out of his phone?” Mikey guessed.
“He shouldn’t be,” Donnie stated, “When I set up his device I explicitly asked if he wanted a pass code. He opted for not, as the whole concept was new to him.”
“Okay, that’s great and all. But he’s still not answering. He usually answers,” Leo stressed. He looked at the phone in his hands again. “I … I don’t like this.”
They sat in stalled confusion, the countdown ticking in the background. 45 … 44 … 43 … 42 …
“Maybe we should go up and make sure he’s ok?” Raph suggested, breaking the quiet. “I’m sure it’s nothing, but it won’t hurt any to see.”
Leo nodded, brow furrowed.
“Right, then,” Donnie stood swiftly, snatching the soda-carrier-goggles off his head and replacing them with his usual goggles, which had been on a table in arm’s reach. “We’ll go check in on Junior. Not because the tracker acting wrong is suspicious or anything, and totally not like helicopter parents … friends, cousins; brothers. But just because we’re worried. Yeah, worried.”
Mikey leapt up just ahead of Raph, followed by Leo rising off the couch.
Leo started rambling, “And if it really is nothing, then we can all get more snacks and hit up Run of the Mill on the way back. Because we totally forgot to order pizza for this whole shindig and …”
Leo was aiming for the door, but was halted by Raph’s hand on his shoulder. He looked up, meeting Raph’s worry with his own determination.
“I’m coming,” Leo said, resolute.
Raph sighed, “No, Leo, you need to stay.”
“Well! Then so does Mikey!”
Mikey protested in the background, and Raph just stared at Leo with such sad compassion it made something inside the slider writhe in frustration. Leo continued, “This is Case’ we’re talking about. If he’s actually caught up in something – Pizza Supreme forbid – then we need the full team, Raph.”
“He’s probably fine,” Donnie offered, “And Mikey’s only coming because he doesn’t have any broken bones.”
Mikey crossed his arms.
Leo scoffled and whined, “Daaaad …”
“No, your brothers are right, Leonardo,” Splinter spoke. He’d actually risen from his armchair for this, evoking Leo’s full name. Leo sputtered like a fish.
“You need to stay home, Blue.” Splinter said with rare authority. “It’s too soon.”
Leo opened and shut his mouth, looking around at everyone. Their faces all said the same, but at least Mikey was the only one to look slightly guilty about the whole thing.
Leo sighed dramatically through his nose. “Fine, I’ll stay.”
Raph and Donnie visibly relaxed. Raph pat Leo on the shoulder, before following Donnie out of the room.
Mikey lingered. “We’ll be back soon. We’ll text you when we find him.”
“Yeah yeah,” Leo huffed. He collapsed back onto the couch, undignified.
Mikey left.
April scratched the top of Leo’s head as she passed behind the back of the couch, coming to plop down beside him. Leo craned his neck up a little at the scratches, before remembering he was actually stressed and supposed to be being serious. He picked up his popcorn bowl again, picking at the kernels.
“Us broken bone buddies gotta stick together,” April sang, attempting to lighten the tension. “More popcorn for us. And I know Donnie has the system rigged to record this whole thing anyway. They can watch later, BUT –” she elbowed Leo in the arm, “ – WE still get to be the ones who saw the special promo first .”
Leo could not deny that he was concerned. Something told him that this wasn’t a simple case of Casey just going up top to explore. He’d promised to watch this with them. Something was up.
But Leo smiled anyway, glad to at least have his Dad and his sister’s company.
He grinned. “If that means I get bragging rights over Dee, then hell yeah.”
“That’s the spirit,” April said, then settled back to watch the show.
* * *
It wasn’t unusual for a human to stumble into the Grand Nexxus Hotel. Rare, perhaps, but Big Mama had safeguards in place.
The staff exits to the surface were hidden and warded. Even the lobby was masked behind a layer of shimmering deception. From the street level, it all appeared very posh and proper, bustling with activity and people . There was a spell on the glass that made any Yokai inside look human. Most people looking for a hotel for the night dared not approach the Grand Nexxus, the whole thing shining far beyond their wallet’s limit. And the spell on the glass made them second guess the availability of rooms. But for the few that had deep wallets who got past that part of the enchantment, Big Mama was more than happy to welcome them. There was a floor or two dedicated to human clientele, rooms fully equipped with small pools, state of the art room-service: literally anything they could want and not venture deeper into the hotel for. Those who did wander either ended up charmed at their own doors again, or at the receptionist desk. The desk was the one position always manned by a human look-alike. The job was the one that received the most applications from the residents of WitchTown.
There was the one exception, the poor human sap who applied and somehow made it through the rigorous hiring process, only to be turned into a bull mutant. His fancy-feet had led him off to who knows where. The next time she traipsed across her path, Big Mama was considering offering him a job as a dance instructor for her Yokai client base.
But Big Mama didn’t expect a human to completely dodge every single one of her wards. Which had been strengthened after the invasion. Every. Single. One. And without setting any of them off. The Yokai staff didn’t even have time to make themselves scarce. A human, who had clearly not been feeling so well when they tripped into her establishment, wearing the insignia of the Turtles. It was the cherry on top of the whole affair, and Big Mama was looking forward to seeing how she could work this mishap to her favor.
She stepped into the Hospital Ward – she couldn’t call her hotel truly Grand if it didn’t have a world-class staff of doctors and alchemists on hand, now could she? – and clicked across the tiled floors until she found the room where the human was being well cared for.
A nurse looked up as she entered, and he smiled at Big Mama.
“Now,” Big Mama grinned. She held her hands behind her back and leaned over the bed, taking in the sight of the unconscious teenager. “How fares our little whittle-wandering trespasser?”
The nurse deposited their gloves in a bin and with a wave of his hands pulled open a virtual med chart, flashing the kid’s vitals alongside rows of Yokai text.
“Our guest has something of a nasty mystic fever,” the nurse explained. “I’m not sure how a human got caught up in enough mystic energy to overload their system like this, but the energy is finally breaking up. It’s leaving his body, but causing fever and time-related hallucinations on the way out.”
“Oh my, that sounds positively not a good timey-wimey,” Big Mama crooned. “What sort of magical-mystic energy is it? That is, if you don’t mind elaborating more for me.” She studied the charts with scrutinous eyes, flicking through them on her own.
The nurse kept his attention mostly on Big Mama, but checked the teen’s IV drip.
“Based on what the lab was able to detect, some sort of time magic.”
“Time magic?” Big Mama spun on her heel and fixed the nurse with an unblinking, smiling stare.
“That’s what the lab work says,” the nurse said, shrugging. “The only course of action we have is to ride it out, and keep this unfortunate soul comfortable until it all passes.”
Big Mama chuckled
“Not unfortunate …” she started to say, when a soft groan from the human got her and the nurse’s attention. The teen scrunched their face, turning their head against visions in their mind. Pulled by long dormant instincts, Big Mama stepped closer to the bed. She brushed hair away from the teen’s face, noticing how high the fever had climbed. The touch startled the teen, but their unease calmed back into sleep. Big Mama’s gaze softened.
“... just lucky,” Big Mama finished saying, “Lucky to have ended up here, the place in all of New-Newbity York best equipped for mystic mumbly-wumps and the like.”
The nurse could have sworn, for a split second, she looked sad. He stood there, subtly trying to get a better read. There were rumors among the Grand Nexxus, of Big Mama’s real name. Big Mama was something she chose to present as. No one knew her from back before the title. And in times like this, the nurse could only wonder what Big Mama’s past might have been. But Big Mama’s eyes snapped back to calculating and steely. The nurse returned to their quiet work. He would never tell any other Yokai what he thought he saw for any amount of money, anyway.
“Indeed. A very lucky one indeed,” he simply agreed.
Fluttering and energetic bickering at the door interrupted the gentle atmosphere of the otherwise calm Hospital Ward.
“Ah,” the nurse sighed, already defeated, “That must be the delivery of the potion I requested.”
Big Mama watched in amusement as Huginn and Muninn somersaulted into the room, staying in the air, with a bottle of blue medicine balanced carefully between them.
“Goyle & Goyle, delivery service!” Huginn greeted.
“Prompt and always on time!” Muninn finalized, triumphantly yoinking the bottle away from Huginn and extending it toward the nurse.
The nurse hid their comic frustration behind a smile, snapping up the potion with a mumbled “Thanks”, before retreating to fuss over the sick teen.
Huginn and Muninn only then clocked that Big Mama was in the room with them.
“Ma’am!” Muninn cheered. He did a flourishing curtsey in the air, which would have seemed proper if he hadn’t flapped his wings too hard in excitement and spun all the way over.
Big Mama had hired them a few months back, when her guards caught the tiny duo trying to sell discounted Nexxus tickets too close to the Arena entrance. The two had been down on their luck, and were job hunting while trying to find where Draxum had run off to. Big Mama could not deny their enthusiasm. It hadn’t been the first time they’d been caught; stealing corn dogs from the hotel freezers once, trying to offer a valet service for her clientele’s bags another time. Instead of choosing retribution she had decided to sweep their devotion into her web. Why have a problem when you could have an ally? The pair became proud errand-runners. Every odd job around the hotel, they happily obliged. It landed them a soft place to sleep at night, by a fire. Which was very important to them. They’d accepted the deal without haggling for more vacation pay or anything (not that Big Mama’s package wasn’t extensively attractive to new hires already).
Right now, Big Mama was happy to have such allies.
“Muninn!” She cooed, “You don’t have to be so super-dupity sweet to little ol’ me.”
“Respectfully, yes I do,” Muninn smiled, “Working here has been a true delight!”
Huginn beamed in agreement. “Yes, yes! Is there anything you need today, Madam? A fresh beverage in your office? A new pack of those squid-ink pens you requested last month.”
Big Mama laughed gently. “No, no, nothing quite that middly-mundane.” She glanced over her shoulder, then back at the tiny gargoyles. “I have a true task worthy of the likes of splendiferous errand runners such as yourselves.”
The goyles flustered with anticipation. They landed on Big Mama’s shoulders, listening. Big Mama walked back over to the bed.
“Tell me, lovelies,” she mused, “Do you know this child?”
Huginn and Muninn stared at him. Muninn stayed put, but Huginn flapped down to stand on the teen’s chest in curiosity. “Should we?” he asked.
“I had only wondered, a mere curiosity,” Big Mama said. She picked up a metal disk from a nearby table, where all the teen’s belongings and old clothes – now laundered and pressed after being sopping wet from the rain – were laid out under a mystic shield. She held the item up, “They bumbled into the hotel wearing this most partic-ulicular symbol.”
Huginn gasped, “That’s the turtle's sigil!”
“Do they know the turtles?” Muninn asked, loud and excited. It was a good thing Big Mama was well practiced in biting down her frustration over shouting in her ears.
Big Mama continued, “I had wondered if you two might know more information, but yes, it seems they connected to our dear turtley-poos.”
Muninn leapt off Big Mama’s shoulder and joined Huginn in studying the kid. His big red eyes blinked worriedly. “Do you think the turtles know they’re here?”
Big Mama grinned, leaning down to address the gargoyles with a glint in her eye. They bristled with expectation, eager for a new challenge.
“My dearest Goyle and Goyle, faithful and capable, I have a teensy-weensy message I insist you deliver.”
* * *
Casey’s head felt light, light as sandbag that is. His eyes were shut, and it seemed too painful a task to attempt to pry them open. There was an urgency in the back of his mind, something clawing there he needed to remember. But he was sleeping, and sleep seemed to be the only thing keeping that claw at bay. Casey buried his face deeper in the crook of his elbow, resting against a tabletop, the echoing sounds of a large room around him creating a glitchy, droning din.
A dull, rhythmic thump against the table – tap tap tap-tap tap – pulled Casey away from the edge of deep sleep.
“You’re going to sleep through the scout meet up,” a voice sounded above him, muted at first but becoming clearer as Casey recognized it. Master Leonardo continued, “Now, I know I always tell you to get sleep whenever you possibly can, but right before a mission debrief? Usually it’s Mikey who accidentally falls asleep before meetings these days.”
“Sensei!” Casey said. He was awake, immediately sitting up and twisting in his seat to face him. “I was just … resting my eyes.”
“Uh huh,” Leonardo chided, grinning. “C’mon, we’ve gotta mosey. There will be time for beauty sleep in three days.”
Casey chased after the taller turtle until the two were walking in pace side by side.
“That’s why I was catching a few winks beforehand,” Casey said, “because we won’t be getting any out on the borders.”
Leonardo laughed, deep and hearty. “We sure won’t. At least nothing good.”
Casey laughed in return, looking up after Leonardo ruffled his hair with his mechanical hand. For a moment, Leo’s face looked oddly far away, blurred out, like the time Casey looked through Commander O’Neil’s glasses. A sting of pain blossomed at the back of Casey’s skull. Suddenly Sensei was five paces ahead of him.
“Case’?” Leonardo called.
Casey shook his head, clearing the ripples. “Coming!”
The mission debrief was the usual: a three day journey patrolling the edges of the base territory. Do not be seen, do not be heard, but always see, always hear everything. The platoon of four left together, a day behind the last group that was patrolling in the rotation. Casey enjoyed these missions, as serious and important as they were. He didn’t like staying cooped up on the Resistance base. At least the shades of gray and brown out on the borders were a little more varied.
It felt like he blinked and two days had passed, almost like a pantomime puppet theater, the sky on a rotating disk in the background that spun around twice. Casey felt like he was watching a tiny stage from afar. Then he was sitting beside Sensei, under a slab of concrete that served as a makeshift shelter. They were quietly joking when the notification sound chimed from Leonardo’s communicator. His face set, and he stood to go answer the call.
Casey … remembered this.
The sky-disk spun again, and he watched a warped replay of their journey back to base, a whole day early in their return. The base was full of movement, and Casey remembered the hustle of people moving to and fro. To prepare, prepare for something big. Preparing to move.
The Krang had caught some wind of where their base was. Intel they’d been sniffing out for literal years, which the Resistance repeatedly yanked out of their grasp.
But not this time.
Master Leonardo began the evacuation of the basic citizens. Half the fighting force went with them, traversing the underground tunnels to a location so hidden only three of the elders had known of its existence. “You have to go with them,” Leonardo had instructed, but Casey was not having it.
“And leave you?” Casey begged, “No, I challenge that order. I refuse.”
“Casey,” Leonardo said, firm, a hint of worry hiding behind his teeth, “The Krang are coming. You fight well, extremely, but –”
“Yeah, that’s because YOU taught me. C’mon, I can take them.”
“Case’, please! I’ve seen you take down Hounds and pack leaders left and right. Gone toe to toe with a Marauder that one time. But what’s coming; what’s coming is the full wrath of Krang Prime’s worst.” Leo inhaled deeply, resting a hand on Casey’s shoulder. “Reserved for the Resistance, and the Resistance alone.”
Everyone moving around them was a blur as Casey focused on his Sensei, his Father’s, pained face.
Leonardo so rarely showed fear. It caught Casey off guard. He nodded, agreeing to go.
Except, he remembered he didn’t go. He’d gone partway, but something had tugged him back. A fluttery ache in his soul, telling him something wasn’t right.
The rear defense that Leonardo led, to buy the citizens time and maybe just maybe take a couple of the Krang leaders out just to really stick it to Prime, had been overrun. The fight topside had gone to shit. Casey had stared out over the battle in agony.
The battlefield bent, warping like an oil spill in a puddle. Casey clutched his forehead.
Deep and electric waves of pain coursed through his head, shouts twisting and stuttering in his ears. And suddenly he was running, supporting Sensei as they both sprinted. Sensei did not call him a lifesaver, like he remembered he had. Instead, “Why did you not stay where it was safe? You know what, nevermind. There’s no time.”
Casey fought against the fog in his mind, the confusion over the twisted memory, trying to pay attention as Sensei drew out the key on the back of a photo and shoved the ancient paper into his hands.
More searing, aching pain over his skull, and Casey was squinting in front of a bright portal. Yellow light flecked the air like embers. With a pang of sorrow, Casey knew better than to call it fire. Sensei spoke his final instructions, but Casey didn’t hear them. He scrambled, and Sensei threw him into the light.
Casey emerged into darkness, the whole warbled world of the apocalypse disappearing down a shrinking tunnel until it blinked into nothing. Where Casey was spit out, however, was worse.
It was cold, dark, littered with lifeless husks of the enemy. The energy of the air was oppressing, numbing. But somehow, through the crushing silence, an explosion shook Casey to his core. He went flying, drifting among the shrapnel.
There was too much going on for Casey to think. His head was throbbing, every heartbeat reinforcing a different fear. They didn’t win. They were all gone, the whole resistance. The Krang invaded. The world was destroyed, twice over. Again.
The weight of a soul flew past Casey’s consciousness, and he dared another look into the void.
Leo — younger, smaller, battle torn and bleeding — passed him, half limp. A flicker of urgency spurred Casey forward, and he lunged off a piece of metal, reaching out.
“Leo!” he shouted.
It didn’t seem that the young slider heard. But his trailing tears still hit Casey in the face, mixing with Casey’s, stinging just the same.
“LEO!” Casey tried again.
Leo looked up, barely there. And instead of flying backwards in the listless gravity, he suddenly began to fall down, Casey right after him. In that moment Leo’s awareness came to the front, and he reached back to Casey in terror. But as they both fell in tandem, into deepening black, Casey was still too
far
away.
*
The inside of his eyelids was pitch and fire. His eyes stung, and they weren’t even open yet. The barest hum of a beep filtered into his awareness, muted and soft at first, then steady and just loud enough to be grating. It was a different pitch than most medical equipment, a good half octave lower.
Casey angled his head toward the sound, and was rewarded with dull electric pain at the base of his skull.
Oh, okay. Moving was a very, very bad idea.
He took a moment to just lay still and breathe, listen to his surroundings, and remember. There were quiet footsteps, very far away. He was somewhere quiet, devoid of much else besides the steady beeping. Casey became aware of a pinch in his elbow. He cracked an eye to investigate.
It was almost not worth it. His head and vision swam, the pain splintering out and going down his back to all his joints. But Casey was able to sit up enough to see he had an IV drip in his arm, and was in what looked like the world’s least crowded med bay. The lights were off and he was fully alone, a solitary bed among an echoey tile room. A closed door exited into what Casey could only imagine to be a hallway.
Casey continued to sit there, waiting for the ache in his bones to subside. He didn’t know where he was. He remembered … something old. The pain of his headache spiked, and Casey curled into a tight ball. His perception of the room flickered between two times; now, and a memory. A recollection of the day Master Leonardo had been rushed back to base after losing his arm. Casey clearly recalled being eleven, old enough to start training, but not remotely old enough for the field. He’d wanted to go with Leonardo whenever he left. Leo had told him that Casey would be ready soon, but not this time. Casey didn’t leave his bedside for days.
Casey settled back in the present. The headache ebbed away, and he breathed deep and slow through his nose to try and dispel it faster.
Someone outside walked by in shoes that clacked with each step. Casey remembered, suddenly, coming face to face with Big Mama. He looked around again, realizing that he must be somewhere in the Grand Nexxus Hotel. In the present, not the past … future, what’s-it. How exactly he’d wound up there, he couldn’t say. Those memories were buzzing just out of grasp, right under the ambient ache nestled in his head.
All Casey knew was that he wasn’t supposed to be here. He’d been … going home? Home, to base, to the Lair. And he still needed to get there.
Blearily, and without any semblance of a plan – which contradicted everything he’d had been raised on – Casey fumbled out of the hospital bed, ditching the IV but unable to loosen the thin metal bracelet on his wrist, and when the coast was clear, ducked out of his room and down the hallway.
* * *
It always made Leo nervous when he wasn’t involved in things. Scratch that — being left alone in general made him twitchy.
No wonder Raph hated it.
His brothers had very good reason to ask that he stay home. And sure, from a medical standpoint he got it. His shell was still fragile, enough that the cracks would need to be held together by Donnie’s special flexi-clasps for the next 3 - 4 months while they healed shut. The cast on his arm had just been removed, but the one on his leg had only been swapped for a brace. His breathing had improved significantly; he no longer wheezed just from standing up.
He, April, and Dad had a grand time watching the preview for the Jupiter Jim Christmas Special — aptly named Jupiter Jim and the Figgy Pudding Pirates. It was going to be *AMAZING* (even if he was only paying attention to half of it while checking his phone every 5 minutes). Donnie had been correct: there had been an ad for the line of Seven Galaxies figures. They were everything Leo could’ve hoped for in a drop that significant. Marcus Moncrief, the infamous Jupiter Jim himself, had also announced a fundraiser starting up in the next couple of weeks that would carry through to the New Year. All funds would be going toward relief efforts in the wake of the invasion.
The city was still broken. New Yorkers pulled through, as sure as dawn after the night. But it was still obvious. That day left its scars on the citizens in more ways than visible hurts and broken bricks.
April dared Leo to try and beat her in Super Kart Racers after the promo ended. With his cast finally off and the full range of his hand available, and April still wearing hers but feeling gutsy in spite of it, Leo told her to eat her words. April won anyway. Splinter ordered Chinese takeout for everyone, and after slipping into a disguise so he could pick it up from the delivery spot, April and Leo were left idly scrolling their phones while they waited for news of Casey.
But Leo could feel himself inching toward doing something stupid by the second.
He got up and wandered toward his room, intending to sort his comic books, anything, just to have something else to think about. The Christmas special promo did hint at references to an issue Leo knew he had somewhere in his collection. But his worries had a mind of their own, it seemed. In the span of a minute, while Leo zoned out thinking too hard, he found himself outside Casey Junior’s room.
Leo stood there for a moment, knowing Case’ wasn’t there. He was fine, Leo told himself, probably just up top brooding like all of them were prone to doing. And that was even before the invasion. He didn’t know the kid’s brooding tendencies, but what Leo did know was that Casey rarely went anywhere without telling someone where he was going. Whenever he went out, even walking out the door like a shadow, there was always a text 5 - 10 minutes later to tell everyone he had gone out. And whenever they texted him first, whether he was home or out and about, he always responded within a couple minutes. But this time there was no check-in text. There hadn’t been any sort of response from Casey for three hours, since Leo’s first texts announcing the promo had been about to start.
Leo wanted to be up with his team, searching with them. He wondered if Casey had maybe, just maybe left something behind that might clue Leo into what he’d been thinking before leaving. Leo sucked in a breath, and opened the door.
Casey’s room was the same as he’d last seen it. A row of boxes had been pushed up against one of the walls in what looked like it used to be an old ticket booth. The family had been using it for storage, before needing an extra place for someone to sleep. What had first been a low camping cot had since been replaced in the last two weeks by a proper bed that Donnie magically sourced. There was a floor lamp, which Leo switched on to see better. He looked up at the glow stars Mikey insisted Casey have, once they all learned how fascinated he was by space. The only book Casey had purchased was one on constellations, which sat on the one tall and narrow bookshelf the kid was using for his things. Spare clothes were folded and stacked on the shelves. Casey’s mask and tech-stick were not resting on the top, as they usually did when not in use. He definitely took them with him on purpose. Leo’s original katanas, however, were left behind, leaning against the side of the bookshelf.
Leo frowned at them. Casey had worn the swords when Leo was gone, and then for a bit after he was home. Leo did not mind, actually. He’d … he’d sort of let go of the idea of ever getting them back, after they were knocked out of his hands …
Anyway, Casey had tried to give them back. But Leo declined. By then Leo had accidentally made himself a new, solitary blade from a palette knife. “I gotta see if Mikey has another tool he wouldn’t mind letting me borrow,” Leo had said with a wink, “Then I’ll have a set. But those ones, I think they mean more to you than me.” Casey had only smiled and nodded numbly.
Leo stood staring at the sheathed katanas for a moment, wondering why Casey had chosen to ditch that piece of his gear, before shaking his head. He had no leads there.
Casey’s bed was not neatly made, as was his usual habit. He typically smoothed out the soft black and star patterned blankets, but they’d been shoved aside in a crescent that told Leo that Case had just shoved them off before immediately gearing up and heading out. Casey must have been insanely restless.
Leo was about to leave, more worried than he’d been on entering, when something else caught his eye. The photo, Casey’s photo from the future, was resting half folded against the book on constellations.
Leo walked over to it, hesitating to pick it up. He leaned on his crutch for a second, then bent down to grab the delicate piece of paper. He sat on the end of Casey’s bed, and carefully unfolded the picture. The last time he’d seen it the photo hadn’t been folded like this. Or cut. There was a slit in the middle, punching right through where the right side of April's face was. Leo thought, grimly, that it was like the picture had been stabbed.
The edges of the paper were tattered, which wasn’t unexpected with the multiple lives this little sheet of paper had seen. Because of the folds the color along the creases was cracked. A variation in texture on the back made Leo flip the picture over in curiosity. He expected to see the drawing of The Key, but beside it there were rusty smudges, oval shaped marks with almost concentric marks inside them. With wide eyes Leo realized those were likely his own, now dried bloody fingerprints from the last time he saw this photo. Right before losing it in the Prison Dimension.
Leo sighed quickly and flipped the picture back over, studying the faces of his brothers-but-not-brothers in effort to ease mental anxieties that he was rapidly telling to shut up in his head. As he tried to clear his mind, a double buzz from his phone pulled his attention back into the room.
In the group chat a new message from Donnie flashed unread.
BoomShaka-ShakeIT9000 : We located Junior’s phone. But no sign of him yet. Has he returned to the Lair at all?
AyyyyyyPRIL : Just his phone????!!??!?!
BoomShaka-ShakeIT9000 : Yes, just his phone.
Leo swiftly tapped out a reply.
Neon~Leon : No he’s not here
No lcuk with the tracker?
BoomShaka-ShakeIT9000: No luck. The signal is still not picking up.
LouJitsuFan1 : Do you think the weather is affecting it Purple?
BoomShaka-ShakeIT9000 : The weather SHOULDN’T be affecting it. Either way, we need to regroup and form a plan.
Neon~Leon : :( See you here then
Leo frowned in real life, too, hunching down on himself and withdrawing back into the faces in the picture. Leo wondered absently if it might be possible to restore the photo, if Casey would even want them to. Maybe Leo could find him a nice frame for it, too.
A new sound broke the weighted silence. There were voices out in the halls, borderline shouting and talking quickly.
Leo got up, and after setting the picture back where he’d found it, made his way in haste toward the voices.
“I’m telling you, it was a message for the turtles and the turtles only .”
“Yeah, and they’re like legit my brothers,” April spat, “and he’s literally their Father so you may as well tell us! Spit it out.”
Splinter grunted in agreement, “Any message for my children is a message for me, as well.”
“No. I have a personal code of ethics only to deliver to the intended parties,” the other voice complained.
April hissed, “You obstinate little - !”
“Oh! There you are!” Muninn perked up the second Leo rounded the corner. The little gargoyle landed on the back of a kitchen chair, looking around in question. “Where are the rest of the guys?”
“Does that even matter?” April sassed, gesturing with her hands to accent her frustration. “Leo, Muninn here showed up at the door saying he had a message for everyone. He said it was important, so I let him in. And now he won’t spill.”
“I told you, for the turtles only,” Muninn insisted.
“Well, I’m here now, have no fear,” Leo said. He leaned cavalierly on his crutch, hiding his lingering anxiety. Leo blinked, and whispered, “ My bad, what’s your name again? I can’t ever tell you and your, uh, associate apart. ”
Muninn was more than happy to introduce himself. “Aw, how complimentary! People do often say Huginn and I are like peas in a pod. I’m Munnin. Muninn’s the name, and service is the game!”
“Muninn!” Leo snapped his fingers and beamed a winning grin at the goyle. “So, my good Goyle, what’ve ya got for me today?”
Muninn puffed out his chest. “Huginn and I were sent out by Big Mama to locate you turtles to deliver a message. The city is enormous, and we didn’t know if you’d be home or out on the town, so we split up to check all your usual haunts.”
“Uh huh,” April drawled, “THE MESSAGE.”
Munnin huffed but kept talking, “Big Mama wants to know if you have a human friend, kinda scrawny, probably your age, long black hair?”
April and Leo’s jaws hit the ground a millisecond apart.
“Casey?!” April shouted.
Splinter stared down the gargoyle. Leo stopped leaning and stood straighter.
“And if we do have a friend who matches that description,” Leo said, face serious, “What is it to Big Mama?”
Muninn cleared his throat. “Well, you see, your friend isn’t doing so hot. This Casey, they’re at the Grand Nexxus Hotel. Don’t worry though! Big Mama’s taking good care of them.”
“Do you have any proof?” Leo replied, sharp.
“Nooooo, not on me. Man, I should’ve asked for one of those holo-scroll things,” Muninn said, “But, you can get proof. In person! In exchange for your friend, Big Mama requests an audience, and a favor.”