#hard of hearing casey jones | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lasanya539 · 1 month ago

Text

make this heart beat on and on

(written for @tmnt-write-fight for @rbtlvr, @oddpocalypse, @azucar-skull)

Fandom: Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles Prompts: Anything with Casey Jr. maybe him adjusting to the new timeline? talking things out with Leo? up to you! can be hurt/comfort or just fluff i am not picky; Casey Jones and the terrible horrible no good very bad childhood. TW: Mentions of Su!cide, Mentions of Dissociation, Pan!c Attàck Word Count: 11523

Posted on AO3!

---

Casey Junior has… mixed feelings about the past.

In the first twenty-four hours of him making it here, he’s somehow been launched head-first into the loudest, most overstimulating place of his life, gotten kidnapped and strapped to a chair by a short, angry teenager, been interrogated by a bunch of immature mutant ninjas reptiles, almost died once, almost died twice, locked a sixteen year old turtle into an exiled dimension, and then got him back just to work his ass off to barely save him from the brink of death.

Not to mention the fact that mere milliseconds before getting here he had to watch his sensei die right in front of his eyes, had to confront faces he’d only ever heard stories about or never thought he’d see again, had to somehow be responsible for unleashing the monsters that haunted his entire life in this timeline too, had to sentence a younger version of the man that raised him to get killed at the hands of a demon, and had to beg, beg, beg for a stable pulse when he was given his destroyed body, a family looking at him with the worst kind of hope in their wide eyes.

That… was all in the span of one day.

Of course, it got better as time went on. Slowly but surely, Leonardo recovered, Casey’s due diligence paying off. Raphael’s eye got rid of the infection, his vision improving despite the scar across his eye-ridge. The markings of organic matter on Donatello’s shell diminished, strong enough for his battle shell again. Michelangelo’s compression gloves reduced the shaking in his hands, the cracks fading to scabs, fading to thin white scars.

They healed. They won. They survived.

Or, at least, a version of them did.

So, yeah, Casey Junior has a lot of mixed feelings about the past. Some of them are straightforward to categorize — his undeniable affinity for pepperoni pizza being one of them, easy to think, oh yeah this is a logical emotion to have. Much like the joy at having fresh water he could drink from the sink at all times, or the relief from studying the medical supplies stocked to the brim in the Med Bay. Times when his brain decides to go a bit easy on him, letting him breathe.

The rest of the time though, it seems like there’s a weight attached to his body, heavy, unrelenting. Tugging on his limbs, keeping his head from being held high. It feels like a threat, a warning — slithering tentacles at his heels when he walks, ready to wrap around his ankles and yank him into oblivion. A sea of darkness at his fingertips, just reach out and it’ll capture him.

He tries hard, though, to not dwell on it. To keep himself safe, he knows how to do that. It’s a delicate balance, but one he has practically mastered in his years at the Liberty Base. Keeping his eyes alert, but mind blank. Aware, but empty. Perfect little soldier, no weaknesses, no thoughts, no illogical emotions. Only orders, and a readiness to survive.

So he does. However he can.

—

“Casey!” He hears a voice coming from the kitchen. “Can you help me out with this batter?”

Shaking his head, Casey realizes he’s been spaced out watching some kind of Japanese game show with Master Splinter in the projector room, the not-so-foreign language and laugh track providing a nice background to meld into. He walks to the kitchen to find Michelangelo wearing an apron that says ‘Kiss the Turtle!’, while the entire counter is dusted in flour and baking trays.

He catches sight of him and smiles, giving him a giant bowl and a whisk. Casey notices his hands shaking just slightly. “Here, it’s batter for the brownies I’m making today. Have you ever had brownies?”

The answer was obvious, but he still obliges. “No, never. It’s like, uh, chocolate cake, right?”

“Yep! Well, kind of, you’ll see. I’ll save you an edge piece.”

He sets to whisking, the smell of sugar and butter and things he’d never tasted in years making his mouth water. He resists the urge to dunk his finger in and lick it.

Michelangelo goes back to pouring in the ingredients of a second batch, reaching up to the cabinets to grab the box of cocoa, when suddenly his hand twitches involuntarily. The box slips out of his grip and falls to the counter, the loose powder spilling on the granite.

Casey steps forward to help immediately, but Michelangelo’s rigid posture makes him rethink. He watches him count to five silently, taking a deep breath and releasing it with meditative precision, shoulders untensing and grabbing the box again. His hands are still shaking.

Casey thinks for a moment, still whisking, trying to come up with something comforting to say. A part of him knows bothering him about the injury would probably make him snap, a lesson learned from his childhood, which he definitely isn’t thinking about.

He takes a deep breath and forces a bright smile on his face. “Hey, so, what’s your favorite thing to cook?”

Michelangelo blinks, surprised. “Sorry?"

“You love to cook, right? Since you were a kid. So what’s your favorite thing to make?”

“Well, it depends,” he begins slowly. “If we’re talking dessert, then I make really good salted caramel chocolate chip cookies! Ask Leo, he always begs for leftover dough, no matter how much I tell him it’ll make him sick. A breakfast favorite is always waffles, Raph loves them. Or for lunch or dinner, truffle pork chops! There’s actually a whole story behind that recipe.” He chuckles sheepishly, rubbing a hand behind his neck. “What about you? What did you guys eat in the future? I’m sure the food situation was much different than here, huh?”

Casey’s smile turns plastic as something painful lodges underneath his ribs. “Yeah. I guess you could say that.”

Michelangelo seems to wait for him to continue, but he barely notices, ducking his head down and stirring mechanically. A sense memory of taste comes back, a flavor coating over his mouth. So many years of crouching next to his Master near a makeshift stove, watching the vermin they captured roasting on a spit. His lilting voice low in his ear, teaching him exactly how to rotate the spit, when to watch for the skin to break and crackle, how to chop off the head cleanly while still leaving enough meat to eat. The silly way they’d tap their respective meals together in a toast before they took a bite.

The batter doesn’t smell all that good anymore.

He feels a gentle touch over his arm where he’s hugging the bowl close, and his head shoots up, an apology ready on his lips. But Michelangelo only smiles, a warm, almost loving thing that puts a giant crack in the armor that sits under his skin. The darkness whispers just outside of his peripherals, waiting, watching.

“Here, that’s done now. Thank you.” He says softly. Casey nods methodically.

“Anything else I can help you with?”

“No, that was all I needed. But hey, maybe you should—”

He spins on his heel in perfect form and marches out.

—

“Level of pain, scale of one to ten?”

“One.”

“Okay, two then. Let me know if it gets above a three, and I’ll start you on ibuprofen again. Itching?”

“Scoff. No itching.”

“Good. Have you been applying that antibacterial cream?”

“Yes, mother-hen, I’ve been applying the cream. And before you start, I’ve only been keeping the battle shell on for four hours each day, no need to nag about that.”

“I’m not a mother-hen, I’m a medic.” Casey responds, practiced, not looking up from the paper pad he’s been making diligent notes on his patients with. “What about your other injuries? Take off your gauntlet and knee pads.”

Donatello rolls his eyes with all the irritation in the world, but he does as he’s told, sticking his arms and legs out for inspection. Casey studies the new green skin peeking out from the cuts, evidence of the wounds he had gotten trying to protect Michelangelo with his body when the subway tunnels collapsed. A few pin-pricks of blood catch his attention. “Have you been picking at the scabs?”

He huffs, reflexively bringing his arms back to his plastron in defense, turning away. “No. ”

“Right.” He says plainly. “Well, if it ever gets to that point, stop it. I know you know better than that. Or I’ll put the heavy-duty bandages back on.” He ignores the glare he receives, making one last note and flipping the notepad shut, sighing. “Still, though, you’re recovering pretty well. Considering.”

Donatello quickly puts his gauntlet and battle shell back on, eager to get back to the spreadsheets open on his monitor. Casey starts collecting the old bandages and throwing them in the trash along with his gloves.

“Well, I have to admit.” Donatello says eventually. “If any of us are doing any better, it’s all thanks to you.”

He halts in place, surprised. “It’s my job.”

“It’s not.” Casey feels his stare on his back where he’s turned away to the wall. “You might have been the medic back there, but you’re not one here. Certainly no one forced you to. I distinctly remember Papa telling you to move out of his way when you three got to Staten Island so he could treat his son. But you practically forced yourself into the role and starting ordering everyone around you, including me somehow.”

Casey’s lip twitches at the indignant tone at the end of the sentence. He hangs the first aid kit on the wall. “Yeah, well, there was a lot to be taken care of. Even if I had let Master Splinter take control, it would have been too much just on him. I had to step in. And besides, I’m good at what I do.”

Donatello hums approvingly. “Being confident in your own skills, that’s a good thing to have. I know you said Leo taught you all you know in the future, but he’s actually the worst out of all of us when it comes to having pride in his own work.”

Casey gulps, a sudden ashy emotion clogging his throat. Involuntarily, a memory bubbles up to the surface, the darkness not too far behind. A lesson learned between many violet floating holograms and the clanking of a hammer against metal, a calloused three-fingered hand on his shoulder, steadfast, grounding.

‘Hope may be your greatest weapon’, his Master telling him, teaching him, ‘but your pride is your greatest shield.’

“Yeah.” He chokes out, eyes blurry. He feels slimy tentacles nip at his heels, cold and terrifying. “I – I have to check on the others.”

He barely hears the questioning tone as he flees from the lab.

—

“Hey, hey, can we spar really quick?"

Casey looks up from the fairy lights on the ceiling he was zoning out at, turning to find Leonardo next to him, an eager look on his face. “Sorry?”

“Let’s spar. C’mon, it’ll be fun. I’m actually so bored right now, and I know for a fact you are too.”

“You should definitely not be sparring, you’re still in recovery.”

“Oh, come on,” he whines, stretching out all of his limbs in show. “See? Everything is fine, I’ve been doing that P.T. schedule you gave me, I’m not in pain, and I am bored. Out of. My mind. So can we just go to the dojo and spar it out? I’m really curious to see what kind of ninja warrior skills you have."

Casey gives him a look, but Leonardo just gives him a shit-eating grin that reeks of stubbornness.

“Fine.” He stands up, bones creaking with the weight of years he hasn’t yet lived but still survived. Leonardo looks happier than he has in days.

The dojo still looks quite used, the mats bruised and the punching bags a little worse for wear. Unfortunate for a family full of injured members.

“You know, it seems like you already have quite a few willing training partners for some reason.” Casey says pointedly.

“Ha, yeah, I guess I do, huh,” Leonardo rubs the back of his neck, eyes flitting away. Guilty. Casey can’t stand to look at it too long. “But the point is to train with you! So c’mon, Future Boy, show me what you got!”

Casey forces them to stretch before they start and earns an eye roll in return. They get into position, stance firm and muscles tight. They circle each other, looking for an opening. Casey moves first, and aims for a quick jab to the center of his plastron. Leonardo blocks it, responding with a swift roundhouse kick. He ducks and rolls, returning to stance.

Leonardo smirks at him, a cocky, familiar thing. Something loosens and squirms under his armor.

A flurry of strikes follow – each one of them blocking, dodging, countering with fluid precision. Almost like a dance they’ve rehearsed before, anticipation thrumming in Casey’s veins. They track each other’s movements with the same sharp gaze, prepared.

Leonardo launches a high kick to his head, his balance faltering for an instant. Casey notices, dropping low, sweeping his legs out from under him. A sharp elbow strike to the ribs, and he is forced onto the mat. They stare at each other for a second, before Casey stands up and bows respectfully.

“Wow,” Leonardo pants out, looking up at him. “I promise I’m a lot better at this, usually. You – you definitely got lucky this time.”

Casey snorts, hearing his heart beat in his ears, spirits higher than usual. “Sure, man, let’s say I did.”

Leonardo beams in response, as he helps him get up. He dusts himself off, still out of breath from the excess exercise after the weeks of recovery. Casey smirks, opening his mouth to rib him for training when he wasn’t even ready for it, but suddenly an arm hooks around his neck, pulling him to Leonardo’s side in a friendly jostle that throws him off balance.

“So, I was right, huh?” Leonardo grins cheekily. “You just needed to spar too. No way all that rad ninjosity can sit still and not have somewhere to go, amiright? I haven’t seen you look this happy in a while!”

‘A while’ actually meaning ‘ever’, Casey thinks hysterically, good mood plummeting as he suppresses the instinctive urge to twist out of the chokehold. The warmth from the contact makes the loose emotion stirs up again, but he brutally shoves it down, forcing himself to not give in. Not right now. No tentacles, no illogical feelings.

He returns the grin to the best of his ability, trying not to wilt when Leonardo dims, intelligent eyes ticking over his face.

“Yeah, you’re right!” Casey gets out as cheerfully as he can manage. “Training is a good way to – to get out of your head, huh? Who would’ve thought, right?"

Leonardo doesn’t look very convinced, but lets it slide. “Well, just you and everyone else in this family.” He says matter-of-factly. His eye-ridges come together in a slight frown, thoughtful. Casey tries to pull away, but the arm somehow tightens around him.

“Did you know,” Leonardo says eventually, “that after our first fight with the Shredder, Donnie trained in here for two days straight? The only times he stopped was to go to the bathroom, drink water, and once eat four Big Macs in a row, before immediately coming back. According to him, training was helping him ‘cope’ with everything, but it was actually making him even worse.”

Crack. The armor under his skin.

‘Shredder tore through his battle shell like it was paper.’ Casey suddenly recalls the memory like it’s a vision. Holding his Sensei’s hand one night, hearing him talk in a quiet, morose tone, as they both watched the sleeping figure of his Master flopped over his worktable, three thin but prominent scars visible on his soft shell. ‘It terrified him. All he could think about was becoming better, stronger, faster. Good enough so nothing could ever touch his ‘weak-spot’ again, so he trained like he’d gone mad. God, he was lucky Shredder only got that one scrape on him – because if Donnie hadn’t been wearing his shell…’

“Yeah, I know, I was really upset about it too.” Leonardo can probably see something on his face. What is Casey showing him? He can’t tell. “We ended up having an intervention for him. He obviously got really angry, but we did the whole shabang – banner and letters and comfort food and all. Dad’s letter was so emotional it made all of us cry, I’m not even kidding. That was probably the only reason he listened.”

Casey feels like a leaf floating on tumultuous waters, just barely staying up for air. Dark waves crashing around him, ready to submerge him. Splinters form over his armor with every encroaching wave.

Still, he brings himself back, and hums in response, feeling a perceptive stare on the side of his face. “S-sounds rough. I, um, I heard about the Shredder. You guys… did good.”

“Good, huh?” Leonardo huffs unamusedly. “Yeah. I guess you could say we did. We definitely weren’t the reason the real spirit of Shredder was released from the twilight dimension and he decided to destroy humanity, no siree.”

An unkind voice in Casey’s mind points out how utterly ironic that is. He tries to shake it away, a sense of foreboding curling at the edges of his vision, like the longer he stays here, the more danger he’ll be in.

“Still though,” he argues. “You – you fixed it, didn’t you? You killed the Shredder, you saved New York.”

Leonardo gives him a smile that only barely reaches his eyes, a wry twist of his lips, and something horrible lurches in Casey’s chest, a wild creature of grief and longing and… and—

“Yeah, I suppose we did.” He answers softly. “Couldn’t have done it alone, the world would have been destroyed if it was just the seven of us. It was Gram-Gram and all the Hamato spirits with us. Our ancestors always have our back, the same way we do each other. Anatawa hitorijanai, right?”

The darkness swallows Casey almost at the same time as the tentacles of misery seize his limbs. The glass armor shatters into shards, digging into his thin skin. Echoes of voices crowd into his ears like loud wasps: anatawa hitorijanai, you are not alone, never alone Casey Jones, remember that, the Hamato clan protects its own, anatawa hitorijanai, wherever you go I will always be right there with you, my lifesaver, my kid—

Distantly, Leonardo exclaims something in alarm. A choked sob escapes Casey’s lips, body shaking involuntarily. He feels something pulling at him relentlessly, dragging him under into a black sea of panic. He gasps for breath, fingers bunching in his shirt, trying to let oxygen through the pinhole of his throat into his lungs.

Foreign touch at his shoulders, uncertain. The tentacles slither and tighten viciously. Casey looks up without seeing and hisses, a scared and cornered response, that has the touch retreating immediately. Through the white noise of his ears he can hear words, the tone maybe meant to be calm or soothing, but all it does is make him even more aware of how exposed he feels.

Years of military training kick in, and over the cacophony of sounds a voice replays in his ear, a voice he’d follow to the ends of the earth, ‘Retreat! To the underground tunnels! Retreat!’

So he does. Orders and a readiness to survive. However he can.

—

When Casey Junior was five, he asked his sensei why the sky in his Little Wolfie the Wolfpup book was colored blue.

Sensei looked at him like there was a laugh stuck in his throat trapped by the sorrow on his face, an expression that made little sense to him. He heaved a sigh out, looking up through the tunnel grate, where they could barely catch a glimpse of the normal thick grey smog that covered the Surface and above.

‘Back then’, he said. He always started all stories of the unfathomable time before the Krang like that. ‘Back then, the sky used to be blue, mijo. It was beautiful. There weren’t so many spaceships then, it was all just blue, with white fluffy clouds that looked like cotton balls. Sometimes there would be an airplane that flew by, or sometimes there would be a bird! So when we drew the sky, we always drew it a pretty blue.’

‘Blue, like your old magic?’ Casey asked.

He chuckled, resting a warm hand on his head, fond, loving. ‘Yeah, kid. Like my old magic.’

And then of course his Master popped up behind them, and seriously explained to Casey the exact hexadecimal code that made up the color ‘sky blue’, which was very very (‘that’s two very’s’ ) different than the code for Sensei’s Ninpō blue, and that his twin was giving his charge a faulty education, and should be banned from the lab during homeschool teaching hours.

Casey chuckles wetly now, the memory a small balm on his inner turmoil. He’s sitting on a steel maintenance ramp overlooking a dry sewer reservoir, his face turned up to a patch of sunlight from a broken metal grate on the ceiling. He doesn’t really remember how he got here; one second, he was crouched low in the dojo with his pulse thudding over his whole body, the next he was running through the subway tunnels, desperate to get away. So many years of living underground have trained him well to find the few exit hatches that connect the New York tunnels to the sewers lines in his frenzy. The only safe place he’d had when he was escaping the Surface during an attack. The only safe place he has now.

He looks up, seeing fluffy white clouds that decorate a bright blue sky, a faint flicker of awe piercing through his fog of exhaustion. Exactly like his Little Wolfie the Wolfpup book. Even more beautiful, in fact.

He vaguely wonders if those so-called ‘snow days’ are actually a thing now. Maybe little kids like Wolfie really do dress up in warm wooly cardigans and hats, and make round ‘snowmen’ with rocks and sticks and carrots. Maybe they look up and see a soft sun and rain-heavy clouds with a smile. Maybe they go back home to a family that was never war-torn, never had to watch them walk out the door bitterly wondering if this was goodbye.

Casey sniffles, tears filling his vision once more. He never got to say goodbye. He buries his face in one hand, the other tightly clutching his hair, holding himself together, barely, barely.

“Wow, I never knew this place was here.”

He jolts, immediately standing up to his feet and swerving around, already reaching to his back for a hockey stick that’s not there, before his brain catches up with his body.

Raphael is on the stairs leading up to the high ramp, hands up in apology. His eyes, one normal and one scarred, tick over his stature in a discerning manner.

“Sorry, Raph didn’t mean to scare you.” He says apologetically. “Just wanted to see if you were okay.”

Casey grimaces, turning around, muscles strung tight. “I’m fine.”

“Okay.” He says, surprisingly easily. He lumbers close and settles down, dangling his feet off the ledge, a respectable distance between them.

Casey refrains from joining, feeling antsy, fists clenching and unclenching. The exhaustion still hasn’t worn off, but now it feels like it’s warping into something more, something urgent. The faint sounds of New York traffic filter down from the hole in the ceiling, dust particles floating in the stale air. Raphael is quiet on his side, seemingly calm. A bird flies by up there, making a cheerful sound. It’s a nice day outside. Warm. Cozy.

“Have you ever touched snow?”

Raphael blinks at the sudden unexpected question, glancing up at him. He’s silent for a second, unsure, but answers, “Uh, yeah, I have. It snows here in New York… December to March, I think.”

“Did you like it?”

“Snow? Yeah, of course.” Raphael puts on a small smile, just barely forced. “Snow is great. Every winter, the four of us go to the surface to play in the parks. We have snowball fights and make snow-angels, it’s a lot of fun.” He snorts. “This one time Leo shoved a whole fistfull of snow right under the new Christmas sweater Dad made me just because I made fun of his ugly unicorn-themed scarf.” He steals another glance at him. “We’ll take you next time. Promise.”

And. And Casey can’t help it — he starts laughing hysterically.

Raphael jerks back in surprise as he doubles over, clutching his stomach and chortling uncontrollably. Because isn’t it all so fucking funny? They want to take him to see snow. Snow. As if he hasn’t been dreaming of the impossible chance to build a snow-castle with his family like Wolfie and his friends ever since he was a kid. As if he didn’t brutally crush that dream the day he lost his mother. What must she be thinking now, watching him from the Spirit Realm?

“Case?” Raphael says, almost inaudible over the noise. “Buddy—”

His lungs are vibrating with the lack of air in them. He wobbles on his feet, forward and backward. His vision is blurry again – is he still laughing? Those sharp sounds are laughs, right? He doesn’t know. To be honest, he doesn’t really remember what they’re supposed to sound like. When was the last time anyone around him had laughed? Certainly not in the apocalypse, no siree! No, because they were too busy dying, right?!

“Casey.” Raphael. A strong, firm voice. “Take a deep breath. Please.”

Please, he remembers thinking, raw power of a burning, golden portal pulsating around him, a whirlwind of colors behind his eyelids as he was hurtled in between timelines. Please, no. Please let this be a dream. I want to go home. Please.

What even is home now? His timeline is torn to shreds. His family is dead. He can’t even stand to be out on the Surface to make a new life for himself. There is nobody here for him. This… this distorted reflection of the people that raised him don’t even fucking know him. They have no use for him anymore, he helped them stop the Krang and nursed them back to health. What now? Is there anything left for him? Of him?

A little pebble is accidentally kicked off the metal ramp, and Casey stops, his sharp eyes tracking its trajectory down to the dry basin. It lands innocently among the cracked concrete lines and rotten leaves covering the remains of the reservoir, dust bouncing off as the quiet sound echoes up to him.

Heh. If he had his Genius Built mask with him, he could figure out what the exact distance between them was. Easily fifty to sixty feet. He hiccups, wiping a hand roughly over his damp face, unable to look away from the tiny speck of the pebble. Is it still in one piece down there? Or did it break? It’s too far to tell.

Heh. The blunt force trauma probably fractured it in half. Involuntarily, his weight shifts from his heels to the balls of his feet.

“Hey, Casey,” Raphael is suddenly much closer, in his peripherals he can see a green arm reach out in front of him, not touching him. There’s something weird and worried in his voice. “Let’s take a step back, alright?”

Casey obeys automatically, because he’s hard-wired to listen to any turtle mutants in his vicinity. He takes a shaky step back, the pebble disappearing from his sight, blocked by a tall, scarred plastron. There’s an unmistakable flint of fear in Raphael’s furrowed eyes as he firmly places himself in front of him, body language forcibly relaxed and unthreatening.

Another chuckle bubbles up his throat. How fucking ironic. “What’s wrong, Raphael?” Casey smiles with all his teeth. “You think I’m going to jump off and kill myself? Don’t worry, I won’t. I’m not my sensei.”

Raphael gapes at him, shock and horror bleeding into one another. “I – what? I didn’t—”

“Oh, I guess I never told you, huh? Well, surprise, surprise, then.” Casey’s voice wobbles dangerously as he rubs at his face again, the storm roiling in his chest. Shivers wrack his frame, as he finally folds in on himself, dropping into a crouch and landing in an undignified manner. The opposite of a soldier. Of a ninja.

“Stupid, stupid,” the words leave his mouth before he can stop them. “Stupid illogical emotions. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry—”

“Woah, woah, no.” Raphael sits in front of him, trying to catch his eye. “What are you sorry for? You’ve got nothing to apologize for, there’s nothing wrong with what you’re feeling.”

A sob escapes Casey as he tries to take a deep breath. “But then why do I feel so out of control? Like – like…”

Like he’s adrift at sea, like the waves crest and fall at their own will. Like he’s at the mercy of a darkness he cannot fathom how to tame. Like if he can’t keep his head up the sheer grief will swallow him whole.

“I can’t breathe.” The confession falls from his lips. “If I can’t control it, I can’t breathe.”

A long pause, then Raphael sighs eventually, a deep and sad thing. He pulls back, hands folded atop his lap in perfect meditative stance, no longer attempting to physically get through to him. Making just enough room for Casey to zone out into the middle distance, ruminating in his own weaknesses.

“Did you know…” Raphael speaks after a few minutes of silence. “I was really scared of thunderstorms as a kid?”

Casey refocuses on him, realizing he’s been unconsciously following his breathing, a pattern taught to him since he was old enough to sit still and quiet in the dojo. Inhale for four, hold for two, exhale for eight.

“Yeah, I was.” He smiles at his confused look. “Had to be like – maybe ten or eleven. Every time I heard the thunder from the surface, I used to get terrified. Like, hide in-between the furniture, hands over my ears, shaking kind of terrified. Couldn’t even sleep during night storms. It got so bad that one time I actually screamed out loud because I heard the thunder in the middle of the night, and I woke Donnie up. He came to my room to check on me, but I felt so embarrassed. Because, well, Raph’s the big brother, y’know? Brother who is the biggest. I thought it was so dumb for me to feel scared and upset because of thunder.

“But Donnie didn’t say that. Actually, all he did was explain how thunder really works, the whole science behind it. Something, something, electrical charges and shockwaves, really nerdy stuff. I think he was trying to get me to understand it so I wouldn’t be scared of it anymore, but it just made me more embarrassed. If thunderstorms were really that simple, then it was stupid to feel this scared, right?

Raphael gently nudges him with his knee. “Wrong. Because of course I was scared of thunderstorms – thunder is loud! And it booms! And it always comes so suddenly and without warning, no one can tell when it starts or stops. Yeah, Raph would get scared out of his mind, and yeah, he’d run and hide before he realized what he was doing, but it made sense why I felt that way, at least according to Donnie. Just because my emotions seemed to be out of my control, did not mean they were illogical.”

Casey gulps at the words, hands shaking as he tries to warm them up by rubbing them on his thighs. Raphael gives him a smile so familiar and well-worn, it carves into him like a cold scalpel. “Case, the crap that you’ve seen in your life – none of us can even imagine it, even after the invasion. Having to grow up in an apocalypse and then having to come here, just to save us… it’s a miracle you’re still standing. You’re mourning your home, you have the right to feel.”

A tear falls down his face, followed by another, but he doesn’t wipe them away immediately this time. A whirlwind of emotions batter through his body as he closes his eyes against them. Casey shudders in a deep breath, inhale for four. Hold. Exhale.

“We used to have thunderstorms too.” He mumbles.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Really loud ones, mostly during the evening. The sky would turn red and grey because of the smoke and mist in the air. Our climate got really messed up because of the – the Krang.” He trips over the word surprisingly, a spike of dread at the name. “But, um, yeah. I hated thunderstorms as a kid too. I used to hide in Sensei’s bed because I couldn’t sleep.” A faint smile graces his lips. “He used to stay awake with me sometimes and we’d play cards together. I always knew it made him so tired to do that, but he never complained once the next day. When the thunder started, he always came to look for me in the bunkers, and he’d just pick me up and we’d turtle pile together.”

Raphael huffs out a laugh, something quiet and gentle on his face. It keeps surprising Casey how still he can sit, a steady presence, unmovable. So unlike whatever he’s seen from a future version of his family.

“It’s easier for you to talk about your past with me instead of the others, huh?” He remarks softly.

The smile shatters in pieces. Casey’s throat is dry. “...Yeah.”

He tilts his head to the side, patient. Continues in the same gentle tone, “It’s because Raph was dead for you too long, wasn’t I?”

A trip in his beating heart, and he flits his gaze away. More memories burn behind his eyelids, every instance of his Sensei and his Masters getting a melancholy look on their faces, talking about their big brother like he’d been their north star, a beacon guiding them in their own darkness. Like losing him had crumbled the ground they stood on, leaving them broken and astray.

A more stark picture comes to mind, a large portrait of an older Raphael in the shrine room of their base, covered in scars but grinning with joy at a camera. How there was always a candle burning right under it, bright and unwavering.

Still, Raphael seems to show no emotion either way, just waits for him to answer. Casey bites his lips, anxiously picking at his nails.

“Are you… are you upset?” He asks, genuinely not sure.

He exhales sharply through his nose. “Nah, not really – at least, not anymore. It wasn’t exactly hard to figure out. You never wanted to be near the three of them unless you were helping them out, you only ever hung out with me or Dad. I’m guessing it was because we didn’t remind you of anyone, so it was easier with us.”

Well, so much for being subtle about it. Casey glances at him, a little ashamed. “Sorry.”

“Like I said, Case, nothing for you to be sorry about.” Raphael bumps his knee with his again. “I just wish I could have been there for you.”

‘I wish I could have been there for him’, Sensei’s voice comes back to him, an aching memory as they both stared at the hilt of his sword, red silk wrapped reverently under his shaking fingers. ‘It’s all I can think about sometimes. He was always there for us when we needed him, he didn’t deserve what happened to him. He didn’t deserve to die alone.’

“It was a routine supply mission. In 2032.” Casey recites after a moment. “Our base had just gotten a few more families, and clothes and food were running low. So it was you and Sensei, raiding a factory in New Jersey. Everything was going fine, it should have been easy. You’d done so many missions like this before.” He takes a shaky breath. “Sensei… he always said he never even saw the Krang mechs coming in. One minute it was quiet in the building, and the next, giant mechs and their hounds raided it. Sensei was trying to fend the hounds off the food, but somehow you got trapped trying to find a safe exit on the other side.” He fiddles with a strand of his hair. “Sensei said he wasn’t even able to catch sight of you once they started attacking, but he could feel the moment you… well.”

It’s silent for a beat, then Raphael sighs again forlornly. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” He replies quickly. “They were trying to destroy the resistance leader, they were targeting Sensei. You died destroying the mechs and killing those Krang, just to save him. I —” His voice cracks straight through the middle. “I would have done the same. For all of you.”

It should have made him feel better, at least one small part of the burden he’s been carrying given to someone else, a confidant with a listening ear. But instead, it makes a strong ache echo from deep within his chest. A threat from a dormant volcano finally starting to bubble beneath a crust of rock. Something long-ignored and burning, begging to be heard.

“My mother died next.” Casey couldn��t stop himself if he tried. “Lieutenant Cassandra Jones. 2035. A recon team went MIA in Maine, so she led a rescue team to get them back.” He wipes his nose roughly. “She left the day of my sixth birthday. Told me she was going to get me a present – a brand new teddy bear, none of the old hand-me-downs from the base. She never came back. My Mom left and never came back.”

Raphael gives him a despondent look as he continues, ears and neck hot, feeling the rush of an emotion he can’t name. “Then – then in 2040, Commander April O’Neil died. We were raiding a large Krang base in Massachusetts, everyone had been preparing for weeks. They were trying to put a dent in their mechs and ships to slow them down. But one of the rooms in the armory was a trap, and she got locked inside alone.” His lip quivers tremulously. “Sensei tried to get her out, but he couldn’t make portals in the future. And before he could call for backup, the Krang… blew the chamber up.”

There’s horrified gasp from his audience, but Casey barely hears it, lost in the cresting wave of sorrow.

“And then.” The words are clogging up his throat like they’re poison. “In 2042, we lost M-Master…” His voice breaks again. “My Uncle Tello.”

“No.” Raphael lets out an agonized whisper. “No, no, no. You didn’t – there’s no way—”

“There is!” He snaps. “He did! My Uncle Tello died. Don’t you get it? I lost everyone.” He jumps up, agitated and hurting. “They all died, Raphael. They’re all dead. ”

The sheen of unshed and shocked tears in his eyes sends a sharp pang of guilt through him, but it’s quickly overshadowed by his grief. “H-he was piloting a jet back from the Mount Ranier sanctuary in Washington. The Krang destroyed their entire electrical grid, and only he could help. Out of everyone in the fucking country, he was the only one with a brain big enough to do something about it. And he did!” He scoffed out a laugh. “Worked for two weeks straight until Ranier became the most secure base in the west coast! He was on his way back when a Krang missile shot him out of the fucking air.”

He can’t bear to look at Raphael right now, but he hears his ragged breathing through the ringing in his ears.

“I was talking to him.” Casey whispers. “I was in his lab, wearing his hoodie, and we were joking about Sensei. We were laughing. And then out of nowhere I – I heard him gasp over the call and—” His words dissolved into a sob, the memory haunting him. The boom of a sudden explosion cutting off into a dark and deafening silence.

Raphael’s hoarse voice echoes in the empty sewer basin. “Casey. ”

Something about the horror in his tone pisses him off. “What?” Casey spins around, words sharp as a whip, glaring. “What, Raphael? You want me to stop? Is this ‘too much’ for you?” The fire in his chest crackles and pops, burning, burning. “This was my life. The Krang picked off people that I loved, that I cared about, that I saw every day at the base, one-by- fucking -one. Until they finally won the goddamn war. They raided our base, our home, and drove us out until they made sure we were all dead.” He runs a wild hand through his hair, pacing away.

Cruel, he’s being cruel. Casey knows that. To taunt Raphael with the death of his loved ones would be to forsake almost everything he’s been taught about kindness and empathy by his teachers. By his family. By his Master.

“My Uncle Angie,” he says in a strangled voice, “was the most powerful mystic warrior in the world. The Krang could never stand a chance against him. So powerful that they couldn’t even trap his Ninpō like he did Sensei’s or Tello’s. He could build chains out of nothing and throw buildings with a flick of his wrist.” His breath stutters. “He made the portal to send me back in time.”

Bursts of orange linger in his mind, flowing robes and glowing eyes. The flash of a final, radiant wink against fiery gold. Cruel. That had been cruel too.

“Sensei asked him to make that portal.” Casey swallows against the bitter feeling, gripping the edge of his shirt with a shaking hand. “Angie told him that making a time gateway like that would take everything he had. And Sensei still told him to do it.”

The volcano finally erupts, magma spreading through his body and burning under his skin. “Sensei knew it would kill him, Angie told him it would. And he still made him create the portal. I literally watched him die – he disintegrated in front of me. And then Sensei pushed me into the portal while I watched him die in a laser blast too!

“And for what?” Casey rounds back, fury radiating off him. “Master Leonardo practically sentenced his little brother to die, and for what? For this? This stupid, loud, confusing world, with people I don’t even know? Where the sky is perfectly blue and snow is perfectly white? I can’t live off the time stolen from my Uncle’s life. I can’t.”

He digs his nails harshly into the flesh of his arm. “I – I feel them sometimes. The Krang. Their tentacles on me. The cold, pink slime. I know it’s not there anymore, but I can’t stop feeling it. I can’t stop seeing yellow eyes everywhere I go. What is wrong with me? I feel like I’m going crazy – is this my life now? Is this what Sensei died for? And I don’t even know what I’m supposed to do— ”

Raphael steps directly into his space and fiercely wraps his large arms around him.

It feels nothing like the slithering grip of the Krang. In fact, it feels nothing like any person who’s ever held him at all. The bone-crushing pressure from all sides jarrs him out of his turmoil almost immediately, the raw strength nearly lifting him off the ground. He takes a shaky breath against the rush of positive physical feedback, blinking away the tears.

Another memory comes to mind, a gloomy day in the apocalypse after a devastating mission. His Uncle Tello shoulder to shoulder with his twin, hunched over a broken metal head-piece, tears staining his mask.

‘What do you need right now?’ Sensei whispered, running a gentle finger over the smooth remains of SHELL-DON.

His Uncle huffed wetly, the sound full of longing from where Casey was eavesdropping from the door, watching him scrunch up into a tight ball, visibly shaking. Looking like he wanted to disappear from the world. ‘I’d do anything for a Raphie hug. Can you get that back?’

He feels the vibrations of Raphael’s voice through his plastron now, a grumble that seems to settle something deep within him. “I am so sorry, Casey. I am so, so sorry.”

He sounds downright distraught. Casey closes his eyes. “It’s okay, Raphael.”

“It’s not. It’s not okay. None of this is okay.” He sniffles. “I’m so sorry.”

“It is, let it go. I don’t need your pity.”

“It’s not pity!” Raphael rips them apart just to stare down at him intensely. “I’m not pitying you, Case. I feel horrible for the horrible things you went through. I - I can’t even imagine the pain you must be in, I should have figured it out before.”

“It’s not your fault.” He lamely pats the hand wrapped around his arm. “I wasn’t exactly advertising it. It didn’t want any of you to know.”

The look he gives him makes him think that’s probably not what he wanted to hear. Casey tsks. “I didn’t, okay? I thought, I don’t know. That I could just… deal with it all on my own.”

Raphael sighs again, and it irks him, especially when he says, “That’s not healthy, Case.”

A surge of irritation. “Oh, fuck off. You weren’t there, you don’t get to tell me what’s healthy and what’s not.”

“You’re right, I wasn’t.” He says firmly, not backing down. “And I’m not an idiot, I’m not going to pretend to know the kind of shit you’ve seen in your life and I’m sure as hell not going to tell you what you should and shouldn’t have done. But I know for a fact that under all that anger and sadness is a crapton of buried guilt. I know what that looks like. I know what that feels like.”

Casey swallows, caught-out, as he continues, “Maybe not to the same extent as you, but I understand what it feels like to live with the fact that someone else’s sacrifice is the only reason you’re still alive. That happened with my Gram-Gram. That almost happened with Leo.”

The words leave his mouth before he can stop them, “It’s not the same.”

“You’re right.” Raphael says simply. “Because what you’ve gone through is so much worse.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that, you’ve also gone through—”

“Shut.” He stops him, holding his palm just over his mouth, effectively shutting him up. “We’re not playing the Pain Lair Games. Raph’s being honest. I don’t know anything about your time or your loss. But.” He says pointedly. “I do know my brothers. I know Leo and Mikey and Donnie, through and through. No matter the time, age, or life. Even better than you. And I know for a fact, family is everything to them.

“It makes me so mad,” he continues, eye-ridges in a painful frown, “to think that the Krang ever put my family, our family, in so much danger. That they had to die. That they were… killed.” He takes a deep breath and glares at him with so much fervor he can’t look away. “But I can guarantee you that Leo and Mikey would never have made the choice to sacrifice themselves to get you here if they didn’t think it was worth it. I know how much Leo loves Mikey, and how much Mikey trusts Leo. They both made a choice, you don’t have to carry the torch of their deaths. It’s not on you.”

Casey’s lip tremored. “That can’t be true. They wouldn’t have had to do that, at all, if it wasn’t for me. I… got them killed. I was their burden.”

“Kid,” Raphael says helplessly, and it squeezes his heart because of how familiar it sounds. “You were their family, the same way they were yours. I told you, for them family is everything, worth sacrificing everything. They would have done anything to keep you alive.”

“To what end?” He bursts out. “They sent me back here to be safe, but for what?” He kicks off some dirt from the ramp, tight with it. “What did they want me to do, now that the Krang is gone? What did they send me here for?”

“They sent you here to be loved, Casey Junior.”

That brings him to a full stop, the answer to the question plaguing his mind for weeks, given to him with such unwavering conviction. Once again, he lets out a hurting laugh. “You have to be fucking kidding me, Raphael.”

“I’m not.” He replies, serious. “I know how it sounds, I get it. Yes, they sent you here to help us stop the Krang. But Case, they also sent you here to be loved. To be cared for. To live in a world with food and water and safety—”

“There is no way.” Casey cuts him off immediately, brushing off his hand and turning away with blurry eyes. “There is no way. There was no place safer and more loving than with my Sensei and my Uncle Angie. So what if we ended up losing our home to the Krang by the end? We would have rebuilt! We would have survived! We would have been together. ”

The worst part is that, despite his own words, he can’t help but believe Raphael whole-heartedly. Because, if what he’s saying is true, it would truly be such a Hamato Leonardo move. The guy was the leader of the resistance, the greatest ninja the world had ever seen, a shining beacon of hope and strength in the apocalypse, and yet he was always the first to give up on himself. Only he would think that his love, which Casey needed like oxygen, could be replaced by a parody.

Raphael doesn’t mind the interruption. He just seems to study him scrutinizingly. As if Casey’s a particularly complicated puzzle, and he’s finally gotten a clue.

“Would you?” He asks quietly.

Embers of simmering lava spark in indignation. He turns back to face him, straight back and steel glare. “What?”

The sharp tone does nothing to deter him. Instead, he suddenly says, “Do you know the story of how Leo became leader?”

“I – what?”

“It was a few days after we beat the Shredder. Dad just randomly told us Leo was going to take charge now. It came out of nowhere, none of us were expecting it. It took a lot of arguing, until Dad finally told us why. Because Leo was, apparently, a better strategist than me.”

Raphael laughs ruefully. “Not an easy thing to hear, I’ll tell you that much. I got so… angry. And hurt. All we did for days was just fight. It was part of the reason why we lost the key in the first place.” He sighs, but when he looks up, Casey sees the sheer pride in his eyes. “But Dad turned out to be right at the end. Leo really is the best of us at strategy. At chess, at sparring, at thinking ahead. He’ll worm his way out of any problem, there’s no one better at it than him.” He gives him a wry smile. “But you already knew that right? He was your sensei.”

An incoming, unthinkable understanding. Emotions storm in Casey’s chest wildly. “W-what are you saying?”

‘That’s it.’ A flashback. His Sensei, injured and exhausted, running away from their destroyed home, Krang mechs surrounding them on all sides. Intelligent eyes searching the landscape for a way out, a solution to their predicament, before eventually shutting in defeat. ‘The resistance failed. The Krang won.’

No, he’d immediately thought, heart in his throat, refusing to accept it. No, no, no.

“Leo is a lot of things.” Raphael continues. “Strong-headed, a little arrogant. A complete idiot, sometimes. But where it counts, he will always keep fighting. And I know for a fact he would have made you take this risk if he didn’t think the fight was already lost.”

Casey shakes his head again, heart thudding loudly. “No, no, that’s not true, the Krang hadn’t won. They just wrecked our base, that’s all. Sensei gave up too early, we would have been alright.”

Raphael gives him such a forlorn, pitiful look that it punches him in the gut. “When have you and I ever known Leo to give up, Casey?”

Never, unless it was a tactical surrender. Unless it was between a Hail Mary, or certain doom. Casey’s quivering hands grasp at his upper arms, digging into the flesh. He thinks about the blood soaking Sensei’s plastron, his heaving breaths against his ear as they ran for their lives. The exhaustion on Angie’s brows and the shake in his fingers as he summoned the chains to rescue them for the umpteenth time.

“No – we would have been fine. I wouldn’t have lost them too.”

“Remember how I said thunderstorms are my greatest fear?” Raphael asks, voice even quieter. Casey hysterically wonders how he can sound so gentle even though he can see how much his words are hurting him. “Well, do you know what Leo’s greatest fear is?”

“No, listen to me, Angie would’ve – Sensei would’ve—”

“It’s to be abandoned.” He finishes. “The emotion he can’t control, is this fear that one day he’ll wake up and realize that all the people he cared for were eventually taken away from him. And that’s the one thing he couldn’t let happen to you.”

“Well, he failed miserably then.” Casey spits out unthinkingly. Undeniably distraught, undeniably betrayed.

It would have ended the same way after all, he realizes, as tears spill from his eyes. One more mission, one more night without food or water, one last dirty wrap over their wounds. Casey would’ve lost his only remaining family either way. It was bound to end in him abandoned. Alone. Unloved.

His greatest fear.

His fiery anger dissipates, drenched in a dark tempest of sorrow and grief. Visions of a frigid life stranded alone in the apocalypse play in his mind, an existence that would have been his if it wasn’t for Angie’s and Sensei’s sacrifice, as the storm rages and roars. He’d spent so many days bristling in his rage, the unfairness that they’d taken away his freedom to choose his own life. But there wasn’t a choice at all. It was either this, or certain doom.

His sobs echo up to the open grate with the birds and the clouds, barely muffled by the plastron hugging him tightly once again. A warm, three-fingered hand strokes his back, comforting, safe.

Casey thuds both his fists against Raphael’s chest with all his strength, barely even nudging him.

“Y-you’re kind of fucked up for that, you know?” He croaks. “Why did you have to tell me that? Why couldn’t you just let me live in denial, huh?”

Raphael squeezes him once. “I’m sorry.”

“Are you? Really?”

He hesitates in response, and Casey scoffs, moving to pull away. He could go run and hide in another corner of the sewers, tame the howling feelings on his own terms. But Raphael doesn’t let him go, in fact tightening his grip.

“Let me go.” Casey sniffles, sounding more petulant than demanding.

“It wasn’t just that you were in denial, Case.” Raphael sounds desperate, like if he doesn’t keep him there he would somehow disappear. “It wasn’t that simple. If you just wanted to avoid thinking about something, fine, that would have been fine. But you were… withering away.”

He barks out a laugh, an unbidden memory of his uncle crumbling away into pieces in front of him. Withering away, disappearing. “No. I really wasn’t.”

“You were. You lived in the lair, but you were hardly even there most of the time. Sitting at a table silently for hours. Zoning out watching stupid shows I know you weren’t even listening to. Barely moving, barely even responding when any of us tried to talk to you. You always just looked so… blank.” Raphael sighs. “I’m sorry we – I – pushed you so much. But I needed to know, I needed you to tell me what you were really feeling. Because… shit, kid, you’re scaring the hell out of me.”

Casey’d seen cases like that back in his time. So many people losing so many people. Shock and mourning leaving them husks of who they were. Completely blank, unpresent. Glazed eyes staring unblinkingly, one gentle prod and the glass would shatter.

He recalls his training, mentally running through a few check-lists of symptoms, and immediately cringes away at how accurate some of them were for him. He buries his face against Raphael, weakly protesting, “I'm not doing that bad.”

He squeezes him once more, an answer in itself. The pressure automatically loosens some of the tension in his body.

“Leo has been researching for a while, on post-traumatic stress.” Raphael begins. “Mikey has been doing a bunch of readings on grief and loss. Donnie has been looking up potential people and resources for help.” He brushes back Casey’s ruly hair tucked under his chin, a comforting hug. “You've been worrying all of us for a while now.”

Casey’s lip trembles, awash with such apparent concern he doesn’t know what to do. An involuntary dark thought sours his mood, and he looks away. “Thanks, but… I hope you know you guys don’t owe me anything. Whatever I did to help you, I would have done it anyway.”

He’s suddenly flicked quite forcefully, right in the middle of his forehead. Casey rears back in surprise, rubbing his head. “ Ow ?”

“This is what I do to my brothers when they’re being dum-dums.” Raphael glares at him vehemently. “Do you seriously think that the only reason we care about you is because you doctored us back to health like we owe you a ‘life-debt’ ? What is this, the Italian mob? It’s either let us repay your debt or dishonor our name? Seriously?"

Casey looks up at him dumbly. “I have no clue what the hell you’re talking about.”

“I’m talking about the fact that we care about you because you’re our family, you giant idiot.” Raphael finally exclaims, exasperatedly. “The Hamato clan watches out for its own. You don't have to go through this alone.”

His hands squeeze his shoulders again. “I see so much of us in you, Case. Not just the medical or technical smarts. The real parts of us. You have Leo’s courage and Donnie’s wisdom and Mikey’s heart. You have April’s grit, and Cassandra’s toughness. You are Hamato through and through.” Raphael snorts, shoving his head back affectionately. “And unfortunately, I am required by law to take care of my siblings.”

Casey swipes at his face, sniffling loudly again. “Yeah. Anatawa hitorijanai. ”

Raphael smiles, setting a gentle, warm hand on top of his head. And Casey suddenly feels four instead of fourteen, echoes of years worth of fond head cradles crashing into him. He closes his eyes and lets himself lean into it. He’s so tired. He misses his family. He’s so tired.

“What do I do, Raphael?” He finally begs of him, emotionally wrung out. The weight of his ill-fated existence sinks deep into his bones, too heavy for him to bear. Darkness inside him making way for murky grey smog, low visibility of any sustainable life.

“Well, first off, you start calling Raph, Raph.” He responds primly, making Casey unexpectedly snort. “The only person who ever calls me Raphael is Donnie when he’s trying to be more stuck-uppy than usual.”

“Stuck-uppy?” Casey lets out a warped laugh.

He rolls his eyes. “Stuck-uppy. Pretentious. Flamboyant. Ostentatious. Just because Raph doesn’t use big-boy words does not mean he doesn’t know ‘em.”

Casey chuckles wetly. Raph grins brightly at the sound.

“And second off,” he continues, “we’re going back to the lair. And this time, we’re not going to avoid or hide from the others, okay? We’re actually going to talk to them.”

Even though he detests that idea, he can’t help but appreciate that’s making it seem like the two of them are in this together. Still, he makes a face. “How on earth do you expect that to help?”

“It’s going to help you stop being alone.” Raph replies, hitting the target at point-blank range. His face flushes. “That’s what your sensei would have wanted, so that’s what we’re going to do. Doesn’t matter what you do with them, but we’re going to make sure you’re not isolating again. Support systems are important for addressing grief.”

A horrible thought comes to mind before he can reply to that, making him suddenly stop. “Oh god, are you —” He looks up at him with wide eyes. “Are you going to make me talk to a ‘shrink’?”

Raph blinks. “What.”

Casey continues frantically, quickly getting anxious. “Back there, everyone used to make shrink jokes. Like, a lady in glasses with a notepad and pen, making you sit in an uncomfortable chair, and asking you how you’re feeling today? Are you going to make me do that?”

There’s a pause, before Raph bursts into laughter. The sound is so unexpected and so pure something in Casey’s chest lurches.

“Is – is that what you think a therapist is?”

“Well – yeah!” He insists. “That’s what Sensei used to say. Him and everyone else.”

He wipes a tear from his eye, still chortling. Casey’s lip turns up despite himself. “Well, he’s not entirely wrong actually. But there’s not always an uncomfy chair, really. Sometimes it's a sofa. And sometimes it's a dude with a notepad instead of a lady. Still with glasses though.”

Casey can’t tell if he’s being fucked with or not. “Are you fucking with me?”

He snorts in response. “No. Well, maybe a little. Those three aren’t the only ones who did their research.” He peers down at him. “Do you want to talk to a shrink?”

At this moment, nothing sounded worse than having to tell an untraumatized stranger about his feelings when he was barely ready to acknowledge them himself. Much less air out the fact that he was apparently a scientific anomaly since he broke the space-time continuum in half. “No, I definitely do not want to talk to a shrink.”

Raph shrugs. “Okay. We’ll figure something else out.”

Casey gapes at him as he walks away, climbing down the high ramp. “Wait – really?”

“Yeah.” He doesn’t look back. “Of course. I get it. I don’t like talking about my emotions either. And since you’re Leo’s son, I am ninety percent sure there’s already an unhealthy amount of emotional suppression going on. We can work on that later.”

He chuckles once more, a short but genuine sound, not missing how Raph hides his smile again. “So I don’t have to expect a visit from Dr. Feelings?”

“Nope, and no Dr. Delicate Touch either. If they bother you, I’ll punch them.”

Casey suddenly pauses, not following him. Raph turns around when he stops hearing his footsteps, seeing him twist his hands together nervously.

“Do you think—” He licks his dry lips. Draws from the well of courage instilled in him by his sensei. “Do you think they would be… okay with this?”

Raph tilts his head at him. Discerning, older brother eyes trying to solve a younger brother problem. It almost makes him smile. “Okay with what?”

“Just. This.” Clenching and unclenching his hands in painful configurations, the sharp feedback racing up his arms. “If I… don’t think about them so much anymore?”

Raph’s eyes widen, and then soften with emotion, as he continues, “I know you keep saying that I’m not alone, and you guys can let me be a part of your family. But… I can’t stop thinking about my family. But if thinking about them hurts me, and they wouldn’t want me to hurt anymore… should I stop? Can I stop?”

Casey thinks back to the day he lost his mom. He was a tiny, screaming six year old, refusing to accept that the most important person in the world was never coming back to him. Through the tears in his eyes, silhouettes of turtles surrounded him, trying to soothe him to no avail. The thought of ever moving on from her, from the ever-lasting misery of that loss, seemed unimaginable.

He doesn’t know how that sharp pain dulled down to a small ache. He doesn’t remember how many days it took until he didn’t cry every evening waiting for her to come home. If he’d done right by her that he’d ever stopped at all.

The day he lost his Aunt Apes. The sheer horror of the news that spread through the base like wildfire and made him drop to his knees in shock. The floundering sobs that consumed and wrecked him – how long did it take to recover from that?

The night he sat in Uncle Tello’s lab and heard the call cut off into ringing silence. The way all of the equipment lights turned from purple to red, the quiet alert sent to his remaining family. He hadn’t even cried that day. He’d just curled onto the floor, numbly in shock, until Sensei broke down the door with tears streaming down his devastated face. He doesn’t really think he ever got over that.

How long would it take for these new wounds to heal? How many times must he be reminded of the injury before the fresh skin starts to settle in?

“You never stop thinking about them, Case.” Raph replies, steadily. Frank. Kind. “They’re always there with you, in your heart, in the Spirit Realm. But it does get better. You learn to accept their loss and honor the people you lost. And you and I know the best way to honor this family, in life or in death.”

“To never give up hope.”

“And to always be there for each other.” He finishes.

Casey breathes. Once, twice. Inhale, hold, exhale. The pain in his chest echoes once more, before quieting down, a bearable weight. He smiles at Raph and takes the proffered hand.

Later, when he finally gets back, his new family is waiting for him. Leonardo steps up, apologies ready on his lips, but Casey doesn’t let him start before he engulfs him in a tight hug. A few more tears escape as shaking arms embrace him with equal fervor.

“I’m so sorry.” Leonardo still confesses brokenly.

He shakes his head. “Anatawa hitorijanai. You were right. You were right.”

Michelangelo encircles him from behind, giving them a tight squeeze full of affection. And all Casey can do is close his eyes and feel like he’s with his Sensei and Uncle, basking in their love from realms away.

Donatello rubs a gentle hand on his upper arm, and Casey peeks up at him, spying the soft smile on his face. An endless depth of care under a stoic exterior. He informs him matter-of-factly, “I’m going to implant a tracker in you, CJ-squared.”

He chokes out a laugh, both at the idea and painfully familiar nickname. “I already have three.”

Behind them, Raph laughs, his other brothers joining in as Donatello looks equal parts shocked and intrigued. Their father walks into the living room, stepping in with silent feet. There is a cup of something sweet-smelling in his hands, steam curling above it.

He walks up as Casey disentangles from them, kneeling in front of him to meet him in the eye. It feels wrong to be in the presence of the esteemed Lou Jitsu by looking down at him.

“Casey.” Master Splinter says, a gravelly but proud voice. “My boy. I may not have known you in the future, but I can tell you very honestly that you are one of the bravest men I have ever had the privilege of meeting. And the blessing of having in my home. But you have been far too burdened for far too long.” He offers him the cup, the surface of the warm liquid glistening in the fairy lights of the lair. “Here. It’s a Hamato secret blend. Special.” He winks. “Only for family.”

Casey accepts the tea, staring at the face before him. A similar image comes to his mind, an old, worn picture he hasn’t looked at in months. He cracks a watery smile. “Thanks, Jiji.”

His Jiji’s eyes immediately fill up, as he turns away to weep directly onto Michelangelo’s shoulder, who pats his back comfortingly, shooting a blinding grin his way.

Casey Junior has mixed feelings about the past. His past. He doesn’t know how to stop them, doesn’t know if they ever will. But he does know how to deal with them. He has new orders, and a new readiness to survive.

Looking at the family before him, he believes he can.

#tmnt write fight #tmntwritefight #rottmnt #tmnt #casey junior #rottmnt raph #rottmnt leo #rottmnt donnie #rottmnt mikey #bad future timeline #tw apply!

25 notes · View notes

moxfirefly · 1 year ago

Note

For the Casey and Raphael stans

"You look better with my hands around your neck."

"You're mine."

Always coming in clutch with what I’m craving to do 🖤🖤🖤

For reference look up John Morrison as Casey Jones and that is MY Casey (Steven can eat a dick)

Rasey stans I hope y’all enjoy 🫡

Rated Explicit (18+ only)

Casey felt that his brain had liquified the second Raphael had grabbed his thighs to push them apart.

He swore he could hear his brain matter bubble in one last heroic attempt to shoot a message to his body.

But in fact it didn’t, all it managed was for something incoherent to slip from his lips.

Raphael looked good between his legs.

Raphael looked downright beautiful with his mouth stuffed.

Raphael looked even more imposing with a large green mitt pressing down on Casey’s sternum.

Casey’s hips stuttered, eyes unable to remain still, too busy visiting the place that once housed his brain.

“Ra—aph,” Good a coherent name, we’re making progress.

Raphael’s green eyes found him, a sort of prideful gleam adorned his irises when he realsed Casey’s leaking cock with a resounding pop.

What was he trying to say again?

“Yeh, babe?” Raphael lazily stroked Casey’s cock, the natural pink now an angry painful red. He tried swallowing, give his body a chance to do a hard reset and maybe get some of his fucking factory settings to do anything.

But fucking Raphael kept fucking lazily stroking him.

He didn’t want to beg, he’d rather draw blood than beg…

“Ya know I can finish you off like this? I’ve done it before.” Raph tightened his hand just to simply drive the point further. Which only served to make Casey honest to goodness whine pathetically. “Eh— Wheres the fun in that?” His hips do another jerk, chasing the friction in hopes of finding some relief.

Raph noticed.

God, he noticed.

Three free fingers found his neck, gripped his throat in a way that only screamed possessive. Raph tightened his hold, enough to make Casey’s cheeks turn pink.

From lack of blood flow or embarrassment?

Who knew.

Casey’s eyes once again betrayed him, the half roll they did when Raph’s hand began to stroke him faster only serving to prove a point.

“You look better with my hands around your neck, Jones.” Raph’s baritone spoke, the vibration rattling inside of Casey’s chest.

When he felt something thick and wet at his hole, when he felt that initial push that made him gasp and seek air, when Raph was nestled inside of him he felt that if he breathed wrong he’d cum.

The hold on his neck slackened just enough for a reprieve but it served little purpose as Raph gave that first harsh thrust.

“oh—fuuuck,” Casey whimpered, voice shakey and throat raw.

Raph gave another short but hard thrust, purposeful, demanding. He wanted Casey to know he was causing him to crumble.

“I-I’m fucking cl-close…” Casey muttered, eyes dazed, each force of Raph’s thrusts making him babel.

“Already?” Smug bastard, Raph really had him and there was nothing he could do as he continued to fall apart around Raph’s cock.

Casey gripped the sheets when Raph bended him past his breaking point. He wanted to get closer, close enough to whisper in Casey’s ear.

“You’re mine, Jones, all fucking mine.” Raph bit down on his neck. Hard enough to make him shout.

Casey only saw white when he came.

#ask #supershinyraven #tmnt bayverse #raphael x casey jones #Raphael #Casey Jones #racey #kinktober prompts #n*fw

59 notes · View notes

normal-sea-urchin · 1 year ago

Text

Casey Jones Fucking Dies: Chapter 1

so you guys know that raph kills casey concept i posted about earlier this week? i wrote the first chapter, most of it is the fight scene between raph and casey when they first meet in The Good the Bad and the Casey Jones. here's the original post btw

also TW for blood, murder, panic attacks (kind of?) and fighting

It was a chilly night. Raph was running along roof tops, breaking just about everything in sight. Earlier that night, back in the lair, his brother Leo beat him in a sparring match, causing him to lash out. Well it's not his fault he lashed out! If his stupid brother hadn't made him so angry by beating him in the stupid match- Ugh! Whatever.

"It's not like i was trying to hurt Leo! They just don't get it" Raph muttered to himself, sitting down on one of the roofs. He sat, sulking to himself before getting up to punch the air conditioning that seemed to be gloating him. He paused for a moment, hearing sounds of fighting. "Well, well," he thought to himself, "looks like my night may have just turned around." After all, fighting the purple dragons, or foot ninjas, or whatever seemed to be making that noise, would be a lot better than punching air conditioners.

He leaped over to the next building and onto the fire escape on the other side of it. Some crazy masked guy with a hockey stick was taking on the purple dragons, and he was doing a pretty decent job too, If it weren't for the fact that he was beating them a little too hard.

"That guy's outta control. Time for a little intervention" Raph spoke quietly while pulling out his sai. He leaped down for his perch on the fire escape, landing beside the crazed man, grabbing his hockey stick before he could land another blow.

"W-who's back there? S-show yourself!" the man stuttered, unsheathing a baseball bat for the harness on his back. As Raph lurked out of the shadows, he heard the human mutter "Another mutant?"

"Got a problem with that!?" Raph snapped back.

"Wait, what are you, some kinda turtle ninja?" the human laughed. Raph growled in response, which gave the purple dragons a chance to get away.

"Hey you filthy scum I'm not done with you!" the man yelled as they ran from the alley, disappearing into the crowded new york sidewalk.

"Let me handle this" Raph ordered, placing a hand onto the human's shoulder to try and keep him from running away. Only to be met with the human smacking Raph's hand away.

"Outta my way!" the man snapped.

Raph could feel the anger in him rising before stating "Y'know anger is a dangerous ally!" he said, repeating the very same wisdom his father imparted on him earlier. "Why don't you cool off for a while" Raph reprimanded.

"That's it lizard," the human muttered taking out a second hockey stick from his holster, paired with the baseball bat from earlier. "i'm done with you. GOONGALA!" the insane man yelled while running towards Raph.

They tussled for a bit, blocking each other's weapons, hockey stick and baseball bat being meant with twin sai.

"I told you to back off!" Raph warned, before kicking the crazed human into a nearby trash can. He put his sai in his belt, assuming the fight was over. He assumed wrong. The guy poked his masked head out of the trash can.

"You let those muggers go? You're gonna pay for that, freak!" the man spat, raising his bat and hockey stick again. This time he ran straight towards the turtle, ramming him into the other side of the alley.

They swung at each other a few times before raph flipped in the air throwing ninja stars at human. The guy blocked them with his glove, before confessing "Gotta admit, throwing stars are cool."

"Lemme show you my sai" the turtle gloated, a smirk on his face. He was beginning to enjoy the thrill of the fight. The human hit his weapons together a single time, in an attempt to look intimidating. The turtle and insane human ran at each other, once again trying to hit each other yet being blocked each time.

The human even managed to get a hit on raph, making him double over in pain. The man used him as a boost to jump over him, hitting the turtle and landing him on his plastron. "Heh, ain't turtles supposed to be endangered?" the human mocked.

"Only the ones who can't do this!" Raph announced, turning onto his shell and kicking his legs up, hitting the man in the face. The guy landed on his stomach several feet away, with his weapons knocked out of his hands and laying beside him.

Raph approached the human who was now trying to get up from the brutal hit. They once again started blocking each other's hits, however the human was doing so very sloppily. Raph was able to get several hits on the man before he ran over into the street attempting to get away or at the very least build some distance.

Raph kept swinging away at the man, pushing him against a car setting off its alarm. The human jumped over the front of the car, and while midair, his shoes turned into roller blades. Now missing his baseball bat, wielding just a hockey stick, the human lowly muttered a "Let's go!"

This, this pissed raph off, he growled at the human before angrily swinging at him, he was seeing red. It didn't help that the human while on his roller blades, was now easily dodging the turtle's attacks. The human even landed two hits on the back of the turtle's head and a third one on his shell, all while avoiding his attacks.

The human skated around raph, coming up behind him to knock him down and onto his plastron a second time. Upon getting up, raph could feel his rage increasing with every blow the human delivered to him, one even hit him hard enough to land him on his shell a few feet away. The man skated over to the turtle, about to deliver a finishing strike right to the turtle's face. But the turtles grabbed his hockey stick before he could.

He yanked the hockey stick away from him, before grabbing the man by the shoulders, picking him up, and slamming him onto a nearby car. "That, ugh... hurt..." the man groaned. He looked up to be met with the turtle's foot on his chest, preventing him from escaping.

The turtle masked in red with eyes white drew his sai up into the air, yelling in rage and preparing to attack. The human let out one last scream of fear before the sai came crashing down and-

Raph heard a crunch.

oh. oh no.

He took a step back, looking at what he had done, removing the now blood stained sai from the face of the human. The red masked turtle felt his breathing increase. He began to feel sick. He looked, really looked, at what he had done. The human's mask was broken in three large pieces. The man was no longer moving, but now had blood pooling around his head. And without thinking or even wanting to, Raph ran.

He ran back to the alleyway where he had been fighting the human just a few minutes earlier. He ran up the fire escape where he had first seen the man. Upon making it up to the rooftops he stopped for a moment hyperventilating before once again taking off, he hopped over several buildings before collapsing down onto his hands and knees. He felt tears begin to run down his face and make their way down onto the concrete beneath him. He didn't care. He deserved every bit of guilt he felt considering what he had just done. He deserved the shame that came with crying.

After what felt like an hour but what could've only been a few minutes, he began to try and compose himself, wiping the few tears left off his face. He stood back up, trying to ease his breathing.

Home. He needed to get home.

Chapter 2/Masterpost

#tmnt #2012 tmnt #casey jones #2012 casey jones #2012 raph #raphael #can you tell this is my first attempt at fanfic #fanfic #chapter 1 #tw blo0d #tw murder #tw panic attack #kind of?#casey jones fucking dies

48 notes · View notes

optimisticallycyn · 11 days ago

Text

And got it done! Let's just say, Leo's finally clueing in. XD

Summary:

Ducking under a man that April had just tossed, he slid in, coming to a stop just behind Casey’s back and blocking a set of short swords that had been about to slice into him.

Shoving the attacker back Leo offered him a sharp kick to the stomach, pushing him towards Shini who cackled as she wrapped him up in her chain before spinning him out and right off the roof.

“Hey! Welcome back to the fun Baby Blue!”

Leo rolled his eyes at the bright grin being aimed at him over a broad shoulder. “The fights not over yet Jones. Focus.”

“Aw, but it’s hard to focus on anything else when you’re around Babe.”

#tmnt 2012 #tmnt leonardo #tmnt a03 #a03 fanfic #a03 link #caseynardo #gay #tmnt casey jones #aaaand fight!#not the boys though #don't worry

8 notes · View notes

starlightshadowsworld · 2 years ago

Text

April: What were you thinking?!

Leo:, Clearly he wasn't, the shell Jones... This wasn't the time for your antics! We needed to get that vial but you couldn't help but show off, could you?

Raph: I hate to agree with them but yeah Case, this mission was important and you totally blew our cover.

Casey: who's been slowly losing his hearing because of how many hits and unchecked head trauma he has. And didn't realise how loud he was being I.... I'm sorry...

April: Sorry isn't gonna cut it this time Casey, you blew it.

Leo: April's right I'm afraid your benched until further notice.

Casey: I... Blinks away tears behind his mask I... Okay... Notices Donnie's been quiet Dee?

Donnie: How could you...

Casey: Donnie... I...I'm sorry

Donnie: shakes his head Just... Just go Casey... You knew how important this was to me. I can't do this now.

Casey: Dee wait steps forward but Raph shakes his head

Raph: You heard the man, go.

Casey:... Right... Okay leaves

Mikey: waltzes in heyy guys... Huh where'd Donnie and Casey go? It's dinner time not smoochy time.

Raph: Casey's gone.

Mikey: Ah man, shame me, him and Leo were gonna watch that new space heroes tape I found.

Leo: sigh yeah.. He'll have to see it another time Mikey.

Mikey: I guess, man got the one with closed captions too just for him.

April: Why?

Mikey: Cos he can't hear it, duh. I ain't gonna leave him out like that.

Donnie:...Mikey what do you mean Casey can't hear it?

Mikey: That he can't hear that good, not since Tigerclaw threw him off that building.

Raph:... What...?

Mikey: Yeah eats pizza slice I thought it was werid you put him on the stealth team but I ain't the leader soo.... Notices everyone staring what?

Part 2

#Jonatello #hard of hearing casey jones #Hard of hearing #casey jones 2012 #Mikey tmnt #Mikey would pick up on it #And assume everyone knew #They don't #leo tmnt #Raph tmnt #Donnie tmnt #April tmnt

213 notes · View notes

hallowbees · 7 months ago

Text

good evening rottmnt community. so i haven't written fanfic in almost a decade, but whilst taking a break from working on a rottmnt fanfic, i have written... another rottmnt fanfic. i wanted to play around with different povs and tenses than i usually use, and decided to use casey jr and the future timeline to try it out - it was super fun to write, so i thought why not share it!!

you're a lifesaver, casey jones

fives times casey jones junior saves the resistance, and the one time it doesn’t feel like a victory

five months old

You’re only five months old when you save the resistance for the first time. You’re so young.

The shattered remains of a home cradle you, muscle memory from the years of keeping a family long gone safe and warm, and even if you can feel the wind as it whistles through the cracks in the bricks and the sky looms red, enemy drones and rubble floating above you like a cot mobile, you don’t cry. Your little life has already taught you the harshest lesson of the apocalypse, and it’s not that crying won’t get you anywhere; crying will get you somewhere alright, six feet deep in a grave if the wrong ones hear you. Of course you don’t actually know that, not in that way at least, but you do know crying only ever wears you out. Tough lesson to learn, ain't it kid, but you learnt it well. You might just make it yet.

There’s no telling how long you’ve been here- could have been five minutes, could have been forever, it's all the same to you. It’s unlikely that there are any coherent thoughts rattling around in that little brain of yours yet, but if so, they might sound something like this; I miss you, I miss you, where did you go? I’m hungry, it hurts, I miss you. Where did everyone go? I miss you. The same thoughts plague most brains these days, everyone’s got a ‘you’ to miss. We’ll all be ‘you’ someday, if we’re lucky. God, this is all quite morbid isn’t it, little one? It’s okay, though. Remember, this is a story about how you save them. It’s a happy story, you’ll get your happily ever after, even if they don’t all live.

She looks a lot like you, strangely. It’s something about the eyes, dark and strong, and the general aura of defiance. Maybe that’s why she finds you first, she feels a kinship in your ‘warrior spirit’, as she calls it, ‘a true fighter’, she calls you. ‘They are a baby, babies cannot fight. Primarily because they are still in the very early stages of fine motor skills development and cannot wield weapons yet, amongst other reasons.’ another voice says, but he doesn’t know just how hard you already have fought, will fight still. You’re there, and that is everything these days. She comes to your defence, proclaiming you ‘the strongest fighter of the resistance’, and ‘silence, purple one!’. You can’t tell that the second shout isn’t aimed at you, but what you can tell is that it's warm in her arms and now you only see her and not the broken sky above you. It’s not ‘you’, and you’re still not sure where everyone went, but this still feels comfortable. This feels like home, you think.

That’s the moment you break, and the tears start. You cry, and you cry, and you are surrounded by her. Her voice is low now, a tone rusty in use but so sure of itself as she tells you that you’re okay, you’re safe, she’s got you. ‘Poor thing, they must be so scared.’ comes a new voice, and there's a blur of orange (once you figure out what orange is, it’ll become your favourite colour, one of four favourites) over her shoulder. ‘Ain’t we all.’ comes a low rumble from behind. ‘They won’t be anymore. We’ve got them now.’ she says, and that’s how you meet your strange little family. Some of it, that is - there are more, an aunt and a grandfather or two, so many people ready to love you.

She doesn’t just give you a name, she gives you hers. You’re Casey Jones Junior, a reminder that something always comes after. You don’t know yet how badly Casey Jones Senior had needed that reminder - she’s spent her whole life in pursuit of what’s next, in hopes that its greater than what’s now (a promotion, a resurrection, a fabled leader) and despair that it never is (better luck next time recruit, they could do it all without her, she breaks the chains that spell his downfall herself). When she finds the apocalypse next, she starts to think that maybe nothing next would be quite alright, but then there’s you and for the first time she truly feels like she’s on the right track.

She carries you home, her family around her and in her arms, and Casey Jones Senior resolves to keep fighting another day.

four years old

In your defence, such a sharp weapon should have never been left in your curious reach. In his, there's so much to keep on top of when you’re spearheading a resistance that if a sai or two get misplaced in the process, can anyone really blame him? Your hand is being patched up as he is berated once again, because ‘you know that weapons stay on you at all times, Raph’, and ‘why are they even sharp? Aren’t sai meant to be blunt?’. He groans out something about being a stupid teenager once upon a time, wondering what would happen if he sharpened his weapon the same way his brother did his swords, much out of the same curiosity that got you into this very predicament. He sounds like he might cry, but you can’t work out why. It’s your palm that's bleeding, and you didn’t even make a peep. That might have been the problem, though - no one noticed until your blood was smeared across the floor and that’s a sight no one can stomach. You were scooped up quickly, and he looks haunted. ‘He’ could have been anyone in the room.

“Raph’s sorry, lil’ guy.”. He’s gentle, so gentle, as he kneels before you and takes your bandaged hand. “I promise I won’t leave ‘em out again like that.”. There’s no promise that you won’t get hurt again, because no one likes to break a promise, but the way he smiles at you, still so gentle, makes all the pain go away.

“Can I hold ‘em again when I’m bigger please?” you ask, and of course you can’t see it but there’s a little sparkle in your eyes as you look up at him, glimmering like the stars that are still above you even if you can’t see them anymore, in the sky that no longer belongs to Earth. Let's look on the bright side though; it could still be ours again someday.

“Um… if your Mom says you can, then sure thing, buddy. But only when you’re older.”. Your mom will say yes, she always says yes because there is nothing that a Jones cannot do, so you cheer and throw your tiny little arms around his far bigger neck. You can’t hold all of him, so you just squeeze extra tight so he still feels the love all over. A hand comes to pat you on the back, and you certainly feel loved in his hold.

“Why’d you want to hold ‘em so bad anyways, bud?” he asks, and you grin. It’s big and toothy, with a little gap right at the front where you lost your first tooth, and thank god that you lost it in the natural way, and not the way most people lose teeth these days.

“I wanna be just like Uncle Raphie!”. He melts, and the tears are back. Rather than wipe them away though, he just squeezes you closer.

It’s one of the last memories you’ll get of Raphael, so please hold onto it. Hold onto it just as tight as you held onto his neck that day, held him long enough for the blood to seep through your bandages and make its mark on his skin.

…

Well, anyways - there’s a conversation later that night that you’re not privy to. You’re probably fast asleep by your mother’s side when the clock strikes this antisocial hour.

“He’s so little. Too little. Casey shouldn’t be even thinking about holding weapons yet.”.

Yet, yet, yet, it’s always yet. Weaponry is waiting for you in the future, and no one can lie, there are keen eyes on you as you play around the resistance base, to spot any signs of affinity for particular weapon types and fighting styles (you’re fast, get up close and personal, and there will be a brute force behind your hits if you really want there to be - someone offhandedly mentions hockey and the blueprints are already being drawn up).

“Maybe it would be better to start him young. It is inevitable, after all.”. That’s probably the toughest pill for them to swallow, that when you grow up (if, if you grow up - that would be even harder to choke down if they would let themselves even consider it) you’ll be thrown to the front lines.

But hey - we’re looking on the bright side, remember?

“C’mon guys, enough with the doom and gloom! Think of it this way - at least there will be someone to keep on fighting after us. And he’s going to be far more prepared than we ever could have been. Seriously, he’s like, the apocalypse nepo baby.”. You’d be shocked by how funny the apocalypse could be sometimes. It has to be, because if you don’t laugh you’ll cry, and you already know where crying gets you. It’s not the best joke, but it gets a snort from someone. “He’s got no choice but to succeed. I’m calling it now, Casey’s gonna be the one to end this someday. ”

“S’not much of a bright side. He’ll still have to fight.”.

“Chin up, big guy. Look at what we’ve achieved already. The kind of things Casey’s going to do with all of us behind him? It’s looking pretty bright to me.”. It goes unsaid that most of them probably won’t be there to see it, but it’s enough for now. The thought of you seeing the other side of this war, even if you have to fight for it tooth and nail, it’s enough to let Raph truly think about what the end of the apocalypse could look like for the very first time since Hell arrived on earth. He thinks of the stars, how they’re still shining brightly and how we will see them again. He can even see a small smattering of them in the bleeding sky when he lays dying a few days later, and his final thought is that maybe we’re already starting to turn the tides.

seven years old

Most people will probably tell you that celebrating a birthday is a waste of time, resources, and energy. The most cynical of the bunch would probably tell you that we don’t actually know when your birthday is, so why are you so confident that it’s today? But, and please don’t repeat this language, fuck them - you’re seven years old, and isn’t that just incredible? You feel like the luckiest seven year old in the entire resistance (you’re only one of three in this branch, and Laura’s leg got broken yesterday, so your competition isn’t exactly tough) when your culinary wizard of an uncle manages to scrape together some sort of cake. The adults around you grimace a little when they bite into it (culinary wizard he may be, but there’s only so much magic can do), but you think it’s the best thing you’ve ever tasted. It’s dry, and sticks to the roof of your mouth, and you’d hesitate to call it chocolate, but you go in for a second helping, and no one stops you because it’s your birthday! There’s more than enough to go around; your family has gotten a little bit smaller, after all. They’re never truly gone though, because you can always see his red bandana, and you’ll always share your name with her. You don’t really remember anything more than a grey blur, but your grandfather’s famous battle cry continues to echo across the frontlines. You make sure to enjoy your second helping even more than the first, just for them.

There is one slice of cake left, and it has no business sitting on the plate looking all lonely like that. You’re not sure exactly why he didn’t show up this time, but you’re not going to let your special day pass by without seeing him. It may be your day, but the things that make you happy are so much sweeter when you share them; you think it might be because you love your family’s smiles more than anything else in the whole entire world. Pushing yourself up from the comfortable pile of mostly everyone you love on the floor (if some missions had been shifted around to make sure everyone could be here for you today, then no one was going to complain), you pick up the plate and go to find the missing piece of your family’s jigsaw puzzle.

“Where are you taking that, Case? Trying to sneak a third helping?”. Voices are light, and maybe it’s the most at ease you’ve ever seen your family. Today really is special.

“Nope, it’s Uncle Donnie’s and he’s gotta eat it today because tomorrow it’s just cake and that's much less exciting than birthday cake.”. You’re on a mission, just like the ones your uncles and aunt go on, ones you can’t wait to join them on someday, because you don’t want to be anything other than just like them when you finally grow up. Your aunt has even begun teaching you how to fight, and she always tells you what a natural you are (she feels so guilty about it, because it would be so much easier if you weren’t going to be such a powerhouse on the battlefield; there would maybe be cause to clutch you close to her chest and never let you go otherwise).

You might hear what’s said as you leave. “Casey, buddy, maybe you shouldn’t…”. You don’t let it deter you, even if you do.

“Nah, I say let him try. Maybe he’ll finally get through to that brilliantly dumb brain of his.”.

You guard the cake with your life as you run to the lab, because you can’t possibly wait a second longer to see him. This is the one thing that could make your day go from amazing to perfect. Call it your birthday wish, even if you didn’t have a candle to blow out.

You’re not actually sure when you last saw your uncle beyond a fleeting flash of purple at breakfast time, and that one night last week you had a standoff in the corridor at 3am, because you had a nightmare and wanted your Uncle Mikey, and he needed more coffee (if it was just a bit lighter, you’d have seen his damp eyes, and maybe would have figured out that he needed to seek out his brothers just as much as you). You know when you’re going to see him next, though - in about 30 seconds, because you’re standing in front of his door.

Knock, knock, knock. There isn’t a pattern, you just bang on the door with one hand, careful to balance the plate on your other. Bang, bang, bang. You’re greeted with the rhythmic bang of a hammer in response - or at least you think at first, it doesn’t take much waiting to realise that he probably hasn’t heard you.

Knock, knock, knock. “Uncle Donnie! I have something for you!” you shout, right at the top of your lungs. Bang, bang - “Just leave it outside the door, I’ll get it later.” - bang.

Well, in that case - you sit down, cross legged and leaning against the door. Because sure, you’re bringing him the cake, but you’re really here because you miss him, and just want a little bit of his time. You think that sounds like a fair exchange; he gets a slice of your best birthday cake ever, and you get five minutes with your beloved uncle. Neither of those come around that often, so you should both make the most of it.

He must have underestimated your attention span, because he has the audacity to look shocked that you’re still there when he opens the door and you fall backwards into the lab with a shout of surprise. It’s only been 20 minutes; you’d wait so much longer than that for him. Miraculously, even in your speedy venture to the floor, the cake is still sitting neatly on its plate, and you hold it up with a wide grin. “I got you cake!”.

A million miles an hour is probably a gross underestimation of how fast your uncle’s brain goes at any given moment, for better or worse. The look on his face suggests that for a moment, his thoughts are speeding even by his standards, and then they promptly smash into a brick wall. You can tell by the way his eyes get a little bit too wide, and his mouth falls open a little - it’s an expression you only see in the rare moments he feels like he’s failed, although all you can see is a success - because there he is! You’re still grinning up at him from the floor, even if your arms are starting to shake from holding the plate up. He shakes away the expression, and quickly takes the plate from you. Only to swiftly discard it on a nearby workbench though, in favour of kneeling down and leaning over to look at your blinding grin.

“Casey… is it today?” he asks, still a little too wide eyed. You giggle a little, because what else would it be, tomorrow? He does genuinely look lost though, so you nod. It’s rare that you know something that he doesn’t, but even if it might feel cool to outsmart the smartest person you know, you fill him in. “Yeah, it’s today! And it’s also my birthday.”. He’s quiet for a moment, teeth worrying his lips as his eyes flick away from your face. “And I’m seven.”.

“Not until 6:47pm.” he says, almost automatically. Once he realises what he’s said, his panicked eyes flick to the screen on his wrist, and you think he’s checking the time.

“You haven’t missed it! I made sure to keep looking at the hands on the clock so I could come and see you before you miss it.”. It’s the time that the scouting-turned-rescue mission seven years ago got back to the base, and an official mission report was made. ‘Baby boy, approximately 5 months old, found in rubble. No others found in immediate vicinity.’, submitted at 6:47pm. It’s never bothered you that it’s not the exact day or moment you were born, it’s the exact day and time your family became just that, and that's what really matters to you. None of your uncles know the exact time and day they were born either (the debate of who’s older still rages on till this day, not even the end of the world can put that argument to rest), so it means you’re just like them. You still can’t imagine wanting to be anything else.

“Okay.”. He stands up, and offers you a hand. You take it, giggling as he pulls you up a little bit too far and your legs dangle. You kick them for a second, before he notices and puts you back firmly on solid ground. “I have two forks.”.

You sit in the bean bags he has stashed in the corner of the lab, and the two of you share the last slice of birthday cake. He struggles more than the others to hide his distaste for it, but you think it tastes the best it has yet. The lab door has been left open, and you know that it’s not by mistake, because it could have been shut with a quick tap of a screen, but it stays wide open as the rest of your family files in. You’re all slotted together perfectly when the clock strikes 6:47pm, and you hear your Uncle Donnie sing the loudest as your family wishes you a happy birthday. You think it’s because you’re sitting closest to him, but everyone else can see the way his chest expands as he takes deep breaths, putting his all into his well wishes.

It was easy for him to forget that life isn’t over yet, even if what he’s been burdened with is creating and creating until he has something that will prolong it just that little bit longer. Amidst the cheers of ‘hip hip hooray’, he remembers that moments like this are exactly what he’s toiling away in the lab for. They haven’t gone anywhere yet though, and he doesn’t want to let even a single second of it pass him by again. Donnie actually smiles for once, because you are seven years old now and that really is something incredible. You see him everyday at breakfast after that, with actual food rather than just a mug, and he always has a fork for you.

eleven years old

You’re just about in the double digits the first time you actually realise that you’ve saved the resistance. It happens so quickly - you’re still not old enough to be out on the field, but it’s all hands on deck when the krang brings the fight to your front door. Maybe don’t say this to anyone else, but you sort of think that it makes your age a moot point - if you can fight like hell when the hallways are caving in and there's pink, pink, pink everywhere, then surely you can join simple scouting missions? No one quite understands why you’re so eager to be out there on the field, and maybe you don’t fully understand either (you definitely don't understand just how dire it is out there, they’ve done a good job of keeping that from you so far), but you know that it’s what you want. It’s what all of your heroes do, after all. You know for a fact that your uncles wanted to be just like their own heroes when they grew up, and now that you’re finally getting taller and your arms are starting to gain a little muscle, why can’t you follow in their footsteps? The only difference is that their heroes were on the TV screen. You’re lucky enough to see yours in the flesh every single day. Two of them, at least. Purple now flutters alongside the fraying red.

At first, it’s no different from all of the other hounds. It’s gross and dripping, what you think must be teeth gnashing and shockingly red. You’re not stupid, you know that it can’t be krang blood, you don’t think they even have it, but nothing can deter you from swinging your hockey stick right into its side (and you know you could do so much more than just crack it’s bones into tiny little pieces if someone finally listened to you and removed the child lock that Donnie was forced to add), sending it flying sideways. A little blood never bothered you, and it’s a good job, because you’re covered in it. Some of it might be your own, but there’s so much adrenaline pumping through your veins right now that pain doesn’t even stand a chance at stopping you. You feel so alive as you wipe some of that blood from your face (definitely not your own, you’d know if you had a head wound), but your heart stops as you see what was laid beneath the hound.

It’s your aunt, or what might be left of her - you can’t tell if her chest is still rising and falling or not. She’s teetering on the edge of just being another body in the makeshift morgue, which you know is nearing full already. Your body wants to freeze, your tears want to fall, your voice wants to scream, but listen, here’s what you do instead: drop to your knees, bring your ear right up to her mouth to here those wheezing, determined breaths, then immediately pull the hoodie over your head to first clear enough blood to find the wound, and second put pressure on it as you scream out for help. You’ve got this. You’re doing so well, kid. Just remember to take a few breaths of your own in the middle of all of this chaos.

Help doesn’t come, but another hound does. You don’t let it get close, as you put those little muscles to use and scoop her up. This one won’t get to her. It snarls at you, and you snarl back, flashing your matching bloody teeth. You turn and run before it can even think about pouncing, and even though she’s heavy, you’re still fast as you jump over rubble and dodge bodies you don’t have time to think about trying to save.

The medbay is still standing, proving that the decision to make it the most out of the way and difficult to reach location in the base was at least somewhat strategic. The krang hasn’t reached it, and based on the mutters of ‘code green’ and ‘it’s over’, they won’t this time. It’s still yet, yet, yet, as you know, but it’s not now so you shove your aunt onto a bed and don’t even wait for an adult to start grabbing bandages and needles. They do still take over eventually, because it doesn’t matter that you just saved Commander O’Neil’s life - you are still just a child. Just barely in the double digits. Hopefully one day you’ll realise this was never an insult, instead it was maybe the greatest display of love they could give you. No one escapes the apocalypse, but they still tried to give you routes out of it. The corridors are all collapsed now though, and you grip your hockey stick tight in your blood-slicked grasp as you watch your aunt be pulled back together into one piece.

April’s probably the one person in the resistance whose resolve has never shaken, but that’s not to say it can’t still be strengthened. When she wakes to see your bloodstained hoodie discarded by the cot she’s found herself on, she’ll of course panic for a second. Thankfully, someone will quickly fill her in, tell her that the blood is her own, and the unbelievable story of the little child who dragged her from the jaws of the hounds. She’ll believe it though, because for starters, you're a Jones, and a Jones can do anything, of course. You’re also a Hamato, and if there’s one thing Hamato can’t do, it’s leave family behind. This spells the start of your official tenure as a resistance fighter, because your age is something you’ll outgrow, but your fighting spirit is something you will not.

It might also have something to do with the fact that much of the resistance lay dead all around you, their blood still clinging to your skin, but what do we always say? Look on the bright side. Stars are still shining, buddy. Time to join your heroes in taking them back.

fourteen years old

You don’t even have to do anything this time. You’re off somewhere with your aunt, maybe training, maybe laughing, ideally both.

The way you save the resistance this time looks something like this: sparks of molten magic, and a pull he’s never felt before. He can’t deny it, it does feel like hope, but hurts like hell as it starts to crackle up his arms. He’s swiftly stopped, not by his own will, but he’s grateful when the fire splitting him apart fizzles out. It’s very quiet in the aftermath, because they know what this means. It means it’s possible. It means it's going to cost everything.

They decide that it would be worth it though, if it gave you a chance. There’s no one else they believe in more than you. It’s been said for years, as far back as the days where the only time you shed blood was when you mishandled sai that now just sit and collect dust; you’re gonna be the one to end this someday.

That day should be far off in the future though, when they’ve had time to give you the mission brief, hand over the supplies, and give you a tight hug, not goodbye but good luck. There isn’t really a point dwelling on it now. Mikey just smiles as he tugs the bandages tighter around his arms, and relishes in the fact that they finally have a plan B that might just work out this time. It helps to reignite the optimistic fire he was reluctant to tell anyone was starting to burn out.

+1. sixteen years old

You’re only sixteen years old when you save the resistance for the last time. You’re so young. I think it might really be the end this time, kiddo.

You don’t even flinch when I bleed on you, you just tell me that you’ve got me, just as I had you all those time you scraped your knee or bruised your elbow. Not to be arrogant, but you said it yourself - you learned from the best. Sorry. I know it’s not about me, but there’s very little left these days to focus on. Let’s keep the attention on you though, because you’re about to finally save the resistance once and for all.

All that needs to be said is ‘hope’, and Mikey knows it’s time for plan B. There’s no time for anything we’d planned, no explanation, no hugs goodbye or good luck, but the belief in you never wavers. Not for a second. You’re Casey Jones-Hamato Junior, remember? There’s nothing you can’t do, except leave your family behind. I won’t say that out loud, because you’ll argue that you are in fact leaving me and Mikey behind. Technically, I’d argue you’re leaving us ahead, because soon we’ll be the future. Again, I won’t say that, because if my last words are going to be a joke, I at least want it to be a good one. What you’re doing, in actual fact, is giving us a second chance. I don’t doubt for a second that you’ll find us back there. Our sky may now be lost, but they’ll take you to the highest rooftop and show you every single shimmering constellation and you’ll finally know an Earth that firmly belongs to us. Oh buddy, you’re going to love it.

The last I see of you, you’re crying. It’s one of the first things I saw you do, and now it’s the last. That first time all those sixteen years ago, I think you only started crying because you knew it was finally safe to call attention to yourself as Casey held you in surprisingly gentle but strong arms. Now, I can’t kid myself, I know it’s because you’re scared, and I’m sorry. But hey, you know how I like to look on the bright side - at least the last you see of me, I’m smiling.

I hope that’s the last you see, at least, I know it won’t be long as a hound throws itself at me. There’s only one thing on my mind now, and it’s that you really are gonna do it. You’re gonna be the one to end this today.

I’m real proud of-

#oh man its kinda terrifying sharing this but also i miss creating things for the things i love and its so exciting that i'm feeling so #inspired rn!!!!#rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt #rise of the tmnt #casey jones jr #rise leo #rottmnt fanfiction #ellie makes post #i've posted on ao3 too which again terrifying but i'm determined to share this big one i'm working on too #this is me working up to sharing that one ig

18 notes · View notes

r0b0t1me · 2 years ago

Text

*thinking about casey jones jr so hard i get lightheaded* how are we feeling tonight fellas? are we normal? are w-

The morning comes sluggishly, quietly, as if the earth itself had woken up from a bad dream. Casey's arms, free of gauze and gloves, move against soft pillows. His hair tousled, his mouth dry, he notices the weightlessness of his own body; floating alone in a calm ocean of warm cloth. He prays for morning drills to wait just a minute longer.

Ten go by, his eyes flit open, he's still coddled and he doesn't understand. He moves, bracing his body against an elbow, and never had Casey felt so tired. Everyone was waiting for him, weren't they? Had Master Leonardo let him sleep in? Casey would never let him hear the end of it. His reverie is broken by a noise, foreign voices, muffled and distant.

That's when his eyes finally move around the room, a repurposed subway car, the only light filtering in through cloth covered windows.

There's a scent in the air, it's- It reminds him of- It's kind of like- sort of- it's-

He doesn't know.

He doesn't know it at all.

Casey falls back into bed with a newfound weight. Memories lurch forward from his clouded mind, ashes in the air, Leonardo's proud smile, a city so foreign yet so fond, interrogations and keys, fighting in the streets, his forehead pressed against cool metal. The embrace of his tired young master, not even an inch taller than him, thanking him over and over.

Tears rush from Casey's eyes, sudden and blinding. He doesn't know if they're from the loss or the exhaustion or the victory or the loneliness or the calm. All he knows is he can hear the quiet laughter of five familiar strangers, that the earth is saved, and the smell in the air is making his stomach cry out.

One step at a time Case, his master's voice chimes in his head as his feet touch the floor, his hands fumbling around a nearby pole to keep his shaking knees steady. He heads out the door, following the sounds and the scents of the new world, one step closer to the future he now barrels towards.

He rounds the corner to a kitchen, full of voices, of warm fresh foods he doesn’t know, of bruised and tired faces who beam and beckon him to join in.

Welcome home, Casey Jones.

#my writing #this was written on 2 hours of sleep at 4am but i do not want to change it #anyway this mfr has never had a fried egg. a fate worse than death #i am thinking. about the first week after the movie #the family is just trying to get back to normal #but what is caseys normal now

167 notes · View notes

dreaminggirlsblog · 8 months ago

Note

Hi! I was wondering, if you could do a Leonardo [2016 Bayverse T.M.N.T.] X Reader, where the reader is a friend of April's. Therefore, in the second movie where after they meet Casey, April has this friend who's smart, and can fight. So, she tells the turtles about the reader and all, them thinking she is a badass, stand-offish person, but really the reader is the epitome of badassness and sunshine personality?? And Leonardo is smitten, of course everyone else notices and maybe they try to set him up? You can change anything you wish, this is just a request! ^^

Leo X Fem!Reader - Are you falling in love?

April ran away from Shredder's ninja soldiers followed by her friend Y/n, who tried hard to get them away from them as they ran through dark, isolated alleys.

They were caught, though, by three more soldiers who surrounded them, the one most frightened was April who was holding the strange object containing the substance with which Stockman had just mutated Bebop and Rocksteady into a warthog and a rhinoceros.

"Give us the container girls," said one in a deep voice as he pulled out his katana.

"Or what?" retorted Y/n defiantly stepping forward.

"Y/n what are you doing?!" whispered April to her but was surprised by a ninja soldier who was hit in the head by a hockey puck.

This fell at the two girls' feet and caused the men around them to panic.

Immediately Y/n jumped into the rubbish cans and pulled out a weapon, a metal pipe that slammed hard on the head of one of them, distracted by the previous scene.

Meanwhile, April was blocked by another of the men and dropped the purple substance until it rolled in front of the strange boy with a mask and a hockey stick.

"Who are you?" shouted another of the ninjas without receiving an answer, receiving a hockey puck in the middle of his face.

This was the same one holding April and she then managed to free herself by retrieving the container, while Y/n fought with the rest of them.

The y/h/c realised this and went to her rescue by taking the container.

When April got up, they ran off followed by one of the ninjas as the others were blocked by the arrival of the police.

They made it to the end of an alley, there was no way out and the soldier managed to catch up with them.

"That guy in the other alley," April began, "we have no idea who he is."

"What does that have to do with anything?" whispered Y/n to her through clenched teeth.

The ninja was knocked out by a very hard blow with a hockey stick and the boy who had rescued them showed up again.

"Thank you," April exclaimed.

"You're welcome," he replied but couldn't hear much being that the mask lowered his voice.

"What's your name?" asked Y/n instead.

"Casey Jones."

The two girls couldn't hear the answer and in fact looked at each other confused.

"What?" asked the brunette.

"Casey Jones" he repeated.

"Stacy Mones?" ventured April.

"She doesn't look like much of a girl to me," retorted Y/n.

The boy then took off his mask and smiled at the two girls, repeating his name "Casey Jones" again.

April was almost captivated by his beauty "Hello" she murmured with a smile.

Suddenly, there came four tall and mighty creatures, totally the opposite of men or ninja soldiers since they had shells and scaly skin.

"Get away from her," shouted one of them as Casey had picked up the two girls and stood in front of them, the bat pointed at the creatures.

"Stay behind me," Casey shouted, moving the bat from left to right in front of the creatures.

Y/n stared at them strangely while April had a calm expression as if she already knew of their existence, this was confirmed by the fact that she approached them after a short while and pointed at the two.

"Casey, Y/n, these are my friends," she said pointing at the four turtles.

Y/n's expression was very confused and the boy's was still frightened but he lowered his bat anyway.

The one with the orange bandana began the introductions and pointed to the turtle with the purple bandana and glasses "Donatello, with the purple mask, is a brilliant technician and is technically a genius".

He then moved on to the red bandana turtle "Raphael, there the red one, is a big, adorable teddy bear" he paused briefly as he stared at the turtle he had just mentioned and his smile faded for a few seconds "if teddy bears were violent"

He then looked at the turtle with the blue bandana "He is Leonardo, wearing blue, a fearless leader, silent but deadly" he chuckled at the end of the sentence.

"And I am Michelangelo, with the orange insignia, I have it all: brains, brawn and a great personality. The girls call me Mikey"

Leonardo approached him, wrapping his arm around his shoulders "Are you finished?"

Michelangelo became serious again "Yes"

April then approached Y/n, still confused, and pulled her in front of the four turtles "And this is Y/n, the friend I've been telling you about all the time"

Immediately the orange bandana turtle approached her, made a half bow and took her hand to lay on it in a light kiss "Enchanted"

"Stop it Mikey" Raphael said annoyed.

"It's a pleasure to meet you! Right Leo?" exclaimed Donatello looking at the other turtle.

Leonardo however had frozen staring at her, he probably still hadn't realised that the girl he had fallen in love with simply from a description of her friend was right in front of him and he still didn't want to believe it.

"Leo," Donatello elbowed him, awakening his brother.

"Huh? Yes, yes, it's a pleasure to meet you Y/n. April has told us so much about you."

"The pleasure is mine," smiled the y/h/c to the four.

And that is how the two met and slowly, the feelings Leonardo felt were reciprocated.

Even so, he was not aware of this and feared that he might ruin the relationship that had been created between him and y/h/c.

On the contrary Y/h/c, he was waiting for nothing more than to find the right moment to tell him and finally get this burden off his chest that he has had for months.

Leo's brothers are the first ones who always try to push him to open up to her, knowing about the reciprocated crush and the fact that he thought he would ruin everything despite being fake, but it doesn't always end well.

On one occasion, Raph thoughtfully invited Y/n to the den at a time when they were talking about her so that she would feel that he liked her and push her to tell him so Leo would realise he was being unnecessarily paranoid.

Unfortunately, however, that day Leo was only thinking about patrolling the city at night and, to the topic, he replied with a simple 'Y/n? I think at a time like this you are my last thought".

A couple of times, Mikey organised a movie night where they all watched a romantic film together and then left Leo and Y/n alone.

Both times, however, Y/n got sick from the pizza prepared by Mikey and Leo could do nothing but take her home to let her recover.

On all these occasions, Donnie was always against the brothers' initiatives and continually repeated that 'when the time comes, one of them will confess how they feel about the other and it won't be us pushing them to do so'.

Opinion never heeded, of course.

One evening, Y/n and April spent the whole day together to celebrate the reporter's birthday.

It had been a long time since they had spent any time alone after Shredder's disappearance and the defeat of the Kraang, so it seemed right to do it on the brunette's birthday.

In the evening, they decided to go to April's house to watch a movie with popcorn and soda, and while preparing for the evening, the subject couldn't help but come up.

"So, how's it going with Leo?" asked the brunette as she put the popcorn in the microwave.

The y/h/c replied with a smile after taking a sip of her soda "Well come on, although sometimes I don't understand him"

"Yeah I know, sometimes it's weird. First he asks me about you all the time and then he says to focus on the good of the city instead of thinking about a girl" April then added gesturing at the end of the sentence.

"Yeah" laughed Y/n "How I wish I could tell him without blushing or freezing as soon as I'm in front of him"

As soon as the click of the microwave was heard, the brunette pulled out the popcorn and took the bowl with her, then placed it on the coffee table and sat down next to her friend.

"Have you ever thought about what to say to him?" he asked her, nibbling on a piece of popcorn.

"Of course," she nodded, imitating his gesture, "every moment of the day."

"And what do you want to tell him?" the other asked, smiling.

Y/n blushed, moving a strand of hair back into her ear and then clearing her throat "So I was thinking something like this... "

Leo’s pov

Here at the lair it was boring as hell, it's been Y/n or April all day and I don't know what else to do but work out or check the city cameras with Donnie.

With that, it's the third time he passed my brother's room and the third time he was startled at my entrance.

I don't know what he was looking at but he immediately closed the computer after almost jumping out of his chair.

"Leo! What is it again?" he asked angrily while I was apparently calm and almost afraid of him.

"I just wanted to see what the situation in town was like," I murmured.

"Still? That's three times you've come here to see the situation in town and that's three times you've lingered over April's house to see what she and Y/n are up to, can you tell what's wrong with you?"

I didn't answer right away, even though I already knew what I was going to answer.

"I want to go there and tell her I love her."

Obviously that was not what I said, in fact quite the opposite.

"I don't know, Donnie, I don't know," I said, simply lowering my gaze and walked out of the room.

I headed towards the dojo, where I found my father sitting on the floor cross-legged, he was meditating.

"Father, am I disturbing you?" I asked in a low voice, immediately catching his attention.

He turned to me, peered at me for a moment and then motioned me to come closer.

"Sit opposite me Leonardo," he said and so I did.

He noticed my dull, sad face and I noticed how immediately he became concerned "Is something wrong?"

I shook my head "No, everything is wrong" I murmured keeping my head down.

"Heart problems?"

I sighed "Yes father, heart problems."

"I see," he nodded, stroking his long goatee, "what exactly is troubling you?"

"Not knowing how she is. We haven't seen each other for days and I don't know if she will ever visit again like before and-"

"Leonardo" he blocked me, realising I was talking too much.

"Firstly, I want to point out that it's been a day since you've seen her" he said with a half-smile "and secondly, you should tell her how you feel without worrying about your appearance"

"What if she doesn't accept me?" I asked, almost bright-eyed.

He brought his paw close to my face and stroked my cheek softly, smiling again "I am sure he will accept you if he really loves you".

At those words, I almost seemed to revive from that state of sadness and realised that perhaps I had been wrong all this time.

"If she really loves me? What do you mean?" I asked confused.

"That she's in love with you idiot," exclaimed Raphael, receiving a knock on the head from Michelangelo.

"You shouldn't have made yourself feel stupid!" he scolded him, then catching a glare at which he seemed terrified.

"Does she really love me?" I asked, sounding almost like a child happy to have just received candy from mummy.

My brothers exchanged a look of understanding, smiling at each other, then looked at me and nodded in unison.

I then turned to my father, he too was smiling and seemed almost moved, and he too nodded, inviting me to stand up, he took my hand and shook it.

“Go to her,” he whispered simply before leaving my hand and getting away from me.

I listened to my family's advice and ran through the sewers looking for the nearest manhole to find her, even though…

“"Where could she be now?" I asked myself before picking up the phone and looking for her number to call her.

Having found the number, I called her while I was running very quickly between the pipes and the phone only started ringing later since she doesn't get much here.

"C'mon” no response from her, the phone just rang.

“"Hello?” she finally answered.

“Y/n! Can you hear me?” he was so happy that she finally answered.

“Leo? Yeah, I can hear you”

“Great! I need to talk to you right now. Where are you now?”

“I'm at a cafe with April. She is ordering our coffee while I'm at the table. If you want to meet me go at my house, I'll be there in a few minutes”

“That sounds great, I'll wait for you at the roof of your house" he smiles, he was very happy that he would see her after a long time (one day but for Leo it's already too much).

After hanging up the call, he arrived at the roof of her house and sat on a ventilation duct waiting for her to arrive.

Meanwhile, he thought aloud about what to say to her.

"Hey, how are you? How was your day? Is everything alright? No, no, too many questions” he cleared his throat "Hey Y/n, how's it going? It's been a lot since we last met each other” he smiles but then realised the stupid thing he was saying “It was yesterday, not two years ago“ he murmured to himself.

"Ok, let's try this” he takes a deep breath “Y/n, I've wanted to tell you that I fell in love with you and maybe you don't want to be my girlfriend because I'm a mutant and it would be weird if we date but” he sighed “"_ I don't want this to ruin our friendship”.

“It won't”

Leo turned around and I noticed km/h standing, with a glass of coffee in her hand and a contagious smile on her face.

“Umm” he was embarrassed "how much have you heard of my speech?“

She smiled at him, he put the glass on the ground and slowly approached Leo, standing at his height and bringing his face closer to that of the turtle.

Breath to breath, Y/n rested her hands on his chest and whispered "Everything" before touching their lips together in a sweet, delicate kiss.

----------------------

Words: 2500

I'm so sorry for the long wait, I'll try to be more active and to answer at all the requests!

I hope you like this!

chia <3

#leonardo #leo #tmnt bayverse #tmnt 2016 #tmnt leo x reader #bayverse leo #dreaminggirlsblog requests

44 notes · View notes

panfluidme · 1 year ago

Text

A Small Flame

Small writing for @somerandomdudelmao's Cass Apocalyptic Series (sorry for the ping). Please enjoy!

There were many things that Leo had on his mind. Most of them weren't necessarily positive. The biggest thing he could think about was how it was his fault that his family was dead.

He can't see what's around him.

He could hear voices and sounds, but they sounded muffled. As if someone were wearing a thick mask and was speaking from the other side of a door or spoke while underwater. Leo couldn't make sense of what he was hearing.

And honestly, he was scared.

For the first time in years, Leo felt truly scared and alone. He was surrounded by things he did not know. He couldn't see what was happening around him.

Hell, Leo couldn't feel his body.

What was the last thing he remembered?

Oh, right. He had Mikey send Casey Jones Jr. back in time to find the key and stop the Kraang. Mikey had turned into yellow flakes. Mikey was dead.

Because Leo knew he couldn't do anything else to stop the Kraang. Because Leo knew that he had a chance of giving Casey a normal and safer life. Because Leo knew that he had lost everything else.

But then what happened?

Leo had to think hard on that question. He knew he pushed Casey into the time portal thing, but then what? Did he run to go fight the Kraang? Did the Kraang get to him before he could say a word?

God, how Leo missed his brothers.

He knew it was his fault they were dead. He hadn't noticed that Donnie was sick in time. He authorized Raph's mechanical body becoming the power source for their base. He urged Mikey to make a time gateway.

Now he was dying, alone.

When was the last time he had been alone? Like, truly and utterly alone?

Leo had always had his brothers. When Raph first died, he had Donnie and Mikey to lean on. When Donnie died, he had Raph and Mikey to lean on. But who could he lean on now? Everyone he knew and loved was dead.

Did dying take this long?

He didn't know how long he's been dying, but he knew it was taking a while. Leo hadn't reunited with his brothers (hopefully Donnie was there too) yet. Sometimes, it felt like there were there. Like he could feel Donnie's rough hands against his spirit.

What more could Leo do than try to break free of whatever restraints was holding him back? What more could he do than wait for death to overcome him so he may be reunited with his brothers?

Leo couldn't wait for the moment he saw his brothers again. He knew that Casey would be just fine without him. He could finally, finally rest.

#rottmnt donnie #rottmnt #rottmnt leo #rottmnt casey jones #rottmnt angst #rottmnt mikey #rottmnt raph #kraang #cass apocalyptic series #fanfic

57 notes · View notes

crackedpumpkin · 2 years ago

Text

ᴄʜᴇʀʀʏ ʙʟᴏꜱꜱᴏᴍꜱ ɪɴ ᴀ ᴅɪꜰꜰᴇʀᴇɴᴛ ᴅɪᴍᴇɴꜱɪᴏɴ || ᴘᴀʀᴛ ꜰɪꜰᴛᴇᴇɴ ||

2k12! Leonardo x Waterbender! reader

a/n: Ooooo we really getting into the backstory now :) I already can't wait for the s3 arc, i have so much planned!! tw: gets a bit dark

“April?”

Y/n is startled when she hears the door open, then loudly slam shut. Peering around the corner of the wall separating the kitchen from the living room, she spots April tossing her bag onto the floor.

“Did something happen?” She turns off the stove, bringing out a glass of water. April accepts it gratefully, though the scowl on her lips remains as she gulps down the refreshing liquid.

“Yeah, Donnie followed me home,” April answers bitterly, Y/n taking the now empty cup from her hands. “Anyway, I just came by to drop off a few things before heading back out again.”

“What about dinner? I made some fish stew,” Y/n tries to coax, gesturing to the pot on the stove. April hesitates but shakes her head in response. “C’mon, at least bring along some salmon jerky.”

“You already gave me some. It’s still in my bag. I’ll have that and microwave the stew after I return home.” April stands back up, grabbing her bag and slinging it across her waist again.

“Who will you be out with? Don’t come back home too late.”

“I’ll be going to see a friend. Casey Jones. Y’know, the guy I’m tutoring?” Y/n shakes her head in response, April looking at her blankly before remembering that Y/n didn’t go to school. She had stayed at April’s home for the past week, doing her own thing.

Ever since that night, when the small voice of temptation whispered in the corner of her mind, Y/n tossed and turned in bed, restless. She didn’t understand where it had come from, much less why it had turned up.

But she knew it was a reminder of the memory she tried so hard to push to the back of her mind, one that haunts her if she doesn't try to forget.

“I don’t want that kind of power.”

It was the night of the full moon, and Y/n and Katara stood behind Hama. Y/n had bluntly refused Hama’s initial offer to teach them bloodbending, Katara nodding in agreement.

“The choice is not yours. The power exists.” Hama’s voice hardens. “It’s your duty to use this gift to win this war. They tried to wipe us out, Katara. Your culture, your tribe, your mother.” Hama switches to winning over Katara instead, the soft-hearted girl hesitant.

Y/n places her arm in front of the younger girl, taking a bold step forward protectively. “You’re the one who’s behind the missing people, aren’t you?” She realizes, putting the pieces together.

When Toph mentioned voices under the mountain, they all thought she was joking, maybe even hearing things. But now Y/n knew for sure that Hama was behind everything.

“They threw me in prison to rot, along with my brothers and sisters,” Hama’s smile twists into a sneer, practically spitting her words, "They deserve the same. You must carry on my work.”

“No, we won’t. I won’t use bloodbending, much less use it as a means to an end. It's not something that should be tampered with.” Y/n states with finality, grabbing Katara’s hand and turning. “C’mon, Katara, we need to find the others.”

She lets out a yelp when her arm is twisted behind her back, fingers letting go of Katara’s wrist. She spots Hama moving, bloodbending her entire body along with Katara’s. She grunts, trying to fight back. Her arms are forcibly pinned down against her sides, teeth gritted as she glares at the witch.

“Let me go!”

“You should have learned the technique before you turned against me. It’s impossible to fight your way out of my grip.” Hama cackles in glee, “I control every muscle, every vein in your body!”

As if to prove her point, she forces Y/n’s body to move against her will, making her dance as her limbs move jerkily, like a mere puppet on a string. Katara struggles, trying to escape and help her friend.

Y/n’s pinned against the tree trunk, eyes burning with unshed tears as every cell in her body screams in pain. Nothing was listening to her; she had never felt so powerless against a foe.

Katara screams, Hama forcing her to kneel down. “Stop, please,” Y/n begs. Katara was probably going through the same pain, wanting nothing more than to protect the young girl.

With a flick of her wrist, Hama pulls Y/n’s body to kneel closer to her, placing a foot on her bare shoulder. Evil laughter echoes throughout the forest, Y/n seething at her helplessness.

No. No more. She wouldn’t be manipulated by someone like this. Not by someone who has taken them in with false kindness, someone who had given them hope that everything would be okay again.

The howling wind fills her ears, the light of the full moon shining down on them in the open area of the forest. Her eyes are closed, feeling the tears trickle down her cheek. She couldn’t surrender to her. Her mind races with thoughts and potential ways to get out of their situation. But no matter how hard she thought, there was no way out.

But in a moment of desperation, it hits her.

There was only one way to even the playing field.

Her fingers curl into fists, the grass that tickles the skin of her fingers wilting as a circle of death spreads out from under her hands. She slowly stood up with all the courage and strength she could muster. Her eyes open, filled with a new determination.

Sure, she was a healer from the North Pole and didn’t know what Hama had gone through. But she was tired of hiding and having others fight the battles for her while all she did was heal.

She watches Hama’s expression turn into one of shock, stumbling back. “You’re not the only one who draws power from the moon, Hama. I’m a more powerful bender than you’ll ever be.”

She moves her arms into a circle, summoning a ring of water surrounding her. She sends it hurtling towards Hama with all the force she can muster, but Hama manages to catch it, sending double the amount back.

The stream of water narrows as it gets closer, Y/n watching with focused eyes and a calm gaze. She’s a healer, one that can see the flow of life itself. Defence and healing were her strengths, which she would wield as her weapons.

Now.

She sees how the water flows, closes her eyes and places her hand in front of her. In a single moment, she takes control, suddenly stopping its movement. It splashes onto the ground around her, droplets landing on Hama who’s taken aback by the sudden display of power while Y/n stands firm, untouched.

In another swift movement, she draws on the moon's power once more, using the water to pull Hama’s feet from below her, flipping the old woman and making her land on the dirt.

She spots Aang and Sokka running towards them, gasping when she sees Hama’s eyes light up with a sinister smile.

“We know what you’ve been doing, Hama!”

“Give up; you’re outnumbered!”

No.

Not them.

Dread pools in her gut, feeling it twist as Hama chuckles.

“You’ve outnumbered yourselves.”

“Y/n? Hello?”

She starts, looking up from the cup in her hands to April, who looks at her with concern.

“Are you okay? I’ve been calling you for the past five minutes.”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” She forces a smile, trying to assure the worried girl. “Go hang out with this ‘Casey', but don’t be back too late, okay?”

April rolls her eyes with a smile, her earlier encounter with Donnie now forgotten. “I’ll be fine, Y/n. Don’t stay up too late, though.” She walks to the door, glancing back at the quiet girl who looks back down at the empty cup in her hands.

She hesitates. Was it really okay to just leave like this?

“Hey,” She finds herself speaking, “Would you like to come to school with me tomorrow?”

Y/n practically lights up, sitting upright when she hears April’s words. “Really? You mean it?”

April nods, chuckling when Y/n claps her hands excitedly. “I can’t wait! What will I wear??”

“You can look through my closet. School’s at 8 am tomorrow, so we gotta leave by 730.”

“You say that like I’ve never attended school before,” Y/n says with a roll of her eyes.

“Have you attended school before?” April’s already closing the gate behind her, her head tilted slightly. Y/n pauses in her steps, heading to the kitchen.

“I was homeschooled.”

— — — — — — — —

“Maybe I should bring some brushes!” Y/n finds the tote bag April had gifted her a while back, slinging it across her shoulder with glee. She pauses, forgetting that they used ‘pencils’ and ‘pens' in this world.

So she grabs a few that lay on April’s desk, making a mental note to let her know that she had borrowed them. She opens the fridge next, pulling out some salmon jerky she had made while she stayed home. She wraps them in cling wrap, used to the strong fishy smell that it gives off and shoves it into the tote bag as well.

Pulling out her T-Phone, she scrolls down the (somewhat limited) list of contacts. Stopping at Leo’s name, her finger hovers over it.

Should she call him? Would it be awkward? What if he didn’t pick up? Wouldn’t that be embarrassing?

Instead, she calls Raph.

She puts it on speakerphone, sits on the couch and grabs random items to put inside her bag. Sachets of tea leaves go in, with a book to keep her entertained and to brush up on this world’s vocabulary. What else would one need in a school?

She continues to ponder, the phone ringing till it reaches voicemail. She tries calling Mikey next, but it just goes to voicemail.

Leo it is.

She waits, wondering why they aren’t answering. Anxiety pricks at her gut, worried she was interrupting them on a critical mission. However, Leo picks up.

“Hello?”

“Leo! Guess what??”

She waits for a response, hearing his laboured breathing. Her brows furrow in confusion. “Are you okay?”

“I’m-” She hears the sound of a blaster going off with a yelp from a voice she recognizes as Mikey before Leo continues to speak. “Okay! Just a bit preoccupied right now. But what’s up?”

“Tui’s gills, Leo. Why’d you pick up while you’re in the middle of something??” She practically scolds him.

“You called. Why wouldn’t I pick up?” She can hear the innocent confusion in his voice, feeling her cheeks heat up.

“Just- I’ll text you instead. Stay safe.” She blurts out, pressing the button to hang up the phone, glancing at the clock with a sharp exhale. She holds her hands against her hot cheeks, willing them to cool down. It’s only eleven pm.

Maybe a quick meditation session would do some good.

She sits down on the floor, cross-legged and closes her eyes. She tries to empty out her mind, banishing all thoughts from her mind except one:

Why now?

Why had the temptation of using bloodbending only shown up now?

Bloodbending.

It’s a term she never thought she’d ever have to bring up again, not after that night. It draws her in, lacing its dark power with words of honey, promises of control and desires granted.

But she knew better. Didn’t she?

You know you want to. Just bloodbend, and you’ll have the whole world under your control. It’s just a small step away.

She tenses, forcing away the whisper in the corner of her mind that disappears with what sounded like a growl. She takes a deep breath in, taking in the power of the full moon all around her and sensing the presence of all forms of water around her.

The tap drips slowly, the hot water cooling down in the kettle, even the ice in the fridge. She breathes out slowly, beginning to sense the bodies of people around her. The old man sleeping in the unit above, the dog that looks for scraps in the alleyway beside the building, even the mugger that corners an innocent passerby a distance away…

It’s so simple; to just reach out and grasp the strings. Her fingers brush against them, pulling on a single thread out of pure curiosity. Just to see what would happen if she did. To control them.

She gasps, her eyes flying open at the thought as beads of sweat form on her brow and trail down the side of her face. Her heart beats rapidly in her chest, and panic begins to overwhelm her.

What was that?

She shakes her head, gritting her teeth and glancing at the tote bag she had placed on the couch. Her eyes soften, remembering April’s words. School. She’s going to school for the first time in her whole life tomorrow morning.

What happened earlier was probably nothing.

She stands up, satisfied with what she had packed for the next day, heading to April’s bedroom and lying in their bed. She feels her eyelids grow heavy, letting them slide shut as she finally drifts off to sleep.

And yet, in the dead of night, the mugger a few streets down gasps for air, lying on the cold concrete as his fingers desperately grab at nothing. His heart was being squeezed so tightly it felt like it’d burst. His fingers turn a light shade of purple, and he pleads desperately for the pain to stop.

And finally, it does.

— — — — — — — —

“Did you hear about that mugger a few streets down?”

Y/n looks up from her leftover fish stew from the night before, chewing and swallowing with a small polite burp. “No, why? What happened?”

“Apparently, he had a heart attack while mugging someone,” April says, sitting on the counter with a wince.

“I guess he deserved it,” Y/n shrugs, noticing how her roommate avoids putting pressure on her left arm. She puts down her spoon, instantly suspicious. “Okay, what’s going on? I know bad acting when I see it.” She crosses her arms, watching April shift around in her seat guiltily.

“I might have…Gotten into a fight.” April admits sheepishly.

Y/n pinches the bridge of her nose, holding out her hand. “Arm.”

“It’s not that big a deal; it was just….” April hesitates, surrendering her bruised arm to Y/n, who inspects it, bending the water out of her cup and wrapping it around the bruise. She can’t stop the sigh of relief that slips past her lips, grateful for the cool sensation.

“Was just what?” Y/n asks, looking up and waiting patiently for an answer.

“...Was just Karai – OW!” April flinches, pulling her arm back when the temperature instantly drops.

“Sorry!” Y/n apologizes hastily, gently taking April’s arm and continuing to heal it. “So, what about her?”

“Well, it really wasn’t anything big. She just tried to…well, destroy me – OW!!” April wrenches her arm away once more from the sudden drop in temperature. “I’m beginning to think that you don’t like her.”

Y/n laughs in embarrassment, April huffing before choosing to keep quiet about last night's encounter. Until she finished her healing, anyway. The yellow skin, splotched with hints of purple and blue, slowly fades until her skin is back to its normal tone and colour.

“Thanks.” April finishes her breakfast quickly, placing the bowls in the basin.

“I wasn’t done with that!” Y/n complains, but she notices why April’s in such a rush. She glances at the clock above the television.

7.40 am.

“Oh! We’re gonna be late!” April rolls her eyes playfully at Y/n’s realization, grabbing their bags and approaching the door. “C’mon, we gotta be there by eight!”

Y/n grabs a brush, trying to comb her hair nicely. “Do I look acceptable for this world’s society?” She asks April, who gives her a once over, nodding in acceptance. She grabs her water bag, slinging it across her waist, only to be stopped by April, who shakes her head.

“This is school, not a battlefield.” April reasons with Y/n, who frowns. She reluctantly removes it and leaves it on the couch, shutting the door behind her. Oh well, anything to experience school.

They rush there, April running while Y/n jogs. “I don’t get how you’re at the same pace as me while I’m running, and you’re not.” April grouches, struggling to catch her breath as they stand outside the school.

Y/n feels perfectly fine, though a few beads of sweat form on her brow. She shrugs. “I mean, I did have some practice in running away.”

She offers April some of the bottled water in her bag, the latter taking a grateful sip. “I’ll introduce you to my friends later, but for now, we have history class first in the morning.”

“Oh? Does this include the ‘Casey’ you keep talking about?” Y/n teases lightly, grinning when the redhead starts, a blush slowly forming on her cheeks as she splutters, trying to find a response.

“Yes, it does.” April calms down with just a simple roll of her eyes, smiling back. “Oh! I forgot to tell you this, but I made up with them. Donnie and the rest, I mean.”

A flicker of annoyance pricks Y/n’s gut, her brows furrowing. She pulls out her T-Phone, scanning the messages to see none from the turtles about the new information, much less about the attack last night. “Seriously…” She grumbles, inhaling deeply as frustration makes itself known on her face.

“Why does no one tell me anything??”

taglist:

brunnetteiwik

ivuriexo

#tmnt 2012 #tmnt #leonardo x reader #atla #Avatar The Last Airbender #2012 leo #2012 raph #2012 donnie #2012 mikey #x reader #series #CBIDD #tmnt x reader #tmnt leonardo x reader #tmnt leo x reader #leo x reader #2012 Leo x reader

104 notes · View notes