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gwydionae · 2 years ago

Text

Bound

A/N: Checking in with Donnie. I'm sure he's been just fine.

Fic posted on fanfiction.net >here<.

Prologue on tumblr >here< Previous chapter on tumblr >here<

Fic Teaser: Yoshi is forever changed when he loses a son so soon after his wife and daughter. Life in the lair is far from idyllic as a father’s desire to shelter his sons causes friction and rebellion. But as they are bound to him, their lost brother remains bound to others, the life he’d lost kept hidden from him. Fate tore them apart, but now it seeks to bring them together once more.

Chapter Teaser: TH-001 had no desire to condemn someone else, but the penalty for disobedience was harsh and not one he was willing to pay.

Bound: Chapter 2

XXXX - TH-001, age X

He was not entirely sure where his earliest memories began. There was a time before he held his current duties, but all thoughts related to such a time were fuzzy, mired in flashes of light and pain. He had been allowed no freedoms then, his young mind grasping at every drop of language in an attempt to decipher its hidden code as pink and grey blurs left smears across his memory. But the monotonous cycle had come to an end the day he first tested the words with his own tongue, finally confident that the sounds coming out of his mouth held meaning. That was the day his mind cleared, and the useless, distorted memories were largely pushed out in favor of more valuable information.

Words soon became his closest companion. He learned that the beings surrounding him were called Kraang while he was, apparently, a turtle—designation TH-001. He was in a laboratory on a planet known as Earth. Sometimes when he did not understand the words being directed at him, they would poke him with sticks that shot crackles of pain throughout his body, but the more words he used to communicate his ignorance, the less pain he felt. Over time he came to realize that his capacity for knowledge, desire to learn, and willingness to comply were his greatest assets in keeping the pain at bay, and so words became a constant stream from his mouth, helping him focus while acting as both reminder and update of his progress to those around him.

It was not until he was roughly the height of the main computer consoles that he caught his first real look at his full reflection. It was obvious simply from his chest, arms, and legs that he was different, but the realization of the full extent of exactly how different was striking when looking at his body from head to toe. He had known that a hard, bone-like structure—called a shell, he had learned—was a part of his back, but still the size of it surprised him considering how lightweight it was. His eyes were the biggest shock, however. He had only ever seen the sharp, garish green of the Kraang before, but his were largely a milky white with dark brown irises surrounding his pupil. They held a softness to them that Kraang eyes lacked. He found himself staring at them, studying them for the reason why they were so different until pain jerked him out of his curious trance and back to what he was supposed to be focusing on.

His tasks largely involved some form of manual labor with the occasional pauses for more thorough updates on his progression or to restore his energy. While usually monotonous and unstimulating, sometimes his tasks provided unexpected boons, small, unwanted treasures and trinkets that no one would question him about if he was caught with them. He would tinker with them during the times he was supposed to be eating or sleeping, learning more and more each day what their function was and how the Kraang used them.

Once, when he had found a piece of technology damaged too fully for him to grasp a complete understanding, he had decided to ask. Questions were often tolerated far less then observations or ideas, with ones such as, "Where did the one known as TH-001 come from?" or "Can the one known as TH-001 replenish that which is known as energy?" having been rewarded with additional stabs of pain. But in response to this particular question, the Kraang had answered him with merely a pause and a cock of his robotic head. Answer in hand, he had contemplated why he had been given it so easily until he came to the conclusion that it was not questions as a whole that were undesirable, but selfish ones. The Kraang were the superior beings and therefore questions regarding their accomplishments were worthy of being answered. From that point on, any inquiries he had about the technology that surrounded him day to day were blurted out with confidence, the pain almost never following.

He continued to grow, both in height and knowledge. Over time he began to notice how inefficient the Kraang's English was. He hypothesized that this was due to them possessing another form of speech that they preferred—one he was not privy to—and therefore they had not bothered to refine their skills with the primitive language. He took it upon himself to do so, however, once he realized how much less time communication took when at least five to ten extra words could be left out every sentence. The Kraang would sometimes look at him strangely for this, but no pain followed, and on rare occasion he could even overhear one or two of them attempting to mimic his speech patterns, usually with only mild success.

But not only had his vocabulary and grasp of basic sentence structure improved, his understanding of their incredible gadgets and devices grew exponentially. There was barely a weapon, a computer console, even a droid body itself that he didn't know inside and out. The cell he slept in was littered with bits and pieces, all in various stages of disassembly and reconfiguration. His thoughts were often on his experiments even when they should have been on whatever current task the Kraang had for him, his constant muttering about them sometimes inviting more pain—pain, he now understood, that came from the high current of electricity buzzing at the tip of the stun batons the Kraang carried that, if suffered long enough, could cause damage to his nervous system and internal organs. Knowing the full extent of what could happen to him from prolonged exposure, he made an effort to keep his mind on track, but the deeper he dove into his experiments, the harder that was to accomplish.

The first successful test of his own small, brain-powered hover droid left him with a feeling of lightness and accomplishment he had never experienced before. While not a ground-breaking invention by Kraang standards, the fact that all he had to do was think a command and the droid would respond exactly how he wanted left him feeling so euphoric that he forgot to leave his cell at the appointed time. As excited ramblings filled the small room, he danced in circles, wide eyes following the droid as it danced with him until he noticed the two Kraang standing in the doorway.

His invention confiscated, he was roughly dragged out, sharp prods with the stun baton causing him to occasionally lose his footing as he was lead down several corridors to a room he had never been allowed to enter. Suddenly worried he may have for once gone too far, his usual stream of words died on his tongue as he was stood in front of a large screen, a projection of the biggest Kraang he had ever seen staring back at him from it.

They were reporting him to Kraang Prime.

He did not know much about the superior, but he knew enough to understand that his infraction had somehow been deadly serious. The two who had escorted him began telling Kraang Prime how he had been late for his duties and what they had found in his cell when they went to collect him. TH-001 was commanded to speak, to explain what he was doing and how he had done it. The words all left his mouth in a panicked rush, as if they had piled up at his silence and now had no choice but to spill out all at once. He told of the pieces of technology he had been allowed to keep, how he had familiarized himself with them during the times he was supposed to be recharging, and how he had built the device now on full display.

The response he got surprised him. It was a smile.

No longer would he be subjected to the mundane day-to-day tasks he had known his entire life. He was to be transferred to a new section of the facility, one that specialized in robotics and inventions. Confused by the jarring turn of events, his mind tried to parse exactly what it all meant, but as he was lead down to yet another unfamiliar room and the doors opened, his eyes grew wide at the vast collection of chemicals and materials that lay before him.

TH-001 had a new task now, one that both suited his ingenuity and satiated his curiosity. He was to help design and manufacture weapons and tools to aid the Kraang in their invasion of Earth.

________________________________________

2012

"...do not get distracted. Stay focused on the mission. TH-001 has studied for a time such as this—cannot get distracted..."

In the back of the van, the turtle quietly muttered to himself as he and two Kraang wrapped in human disguises sat and waited, the ones that had been up front now outside keeping watch for their target. It was difficult for him to refrain from turning around to glance out the front window, his curiosity for the wider world outside of the Kraang facility buzzing at the proximity. He knew what the city and its inhabitants looked like, of course; he had managed to convince the Kraang that studying the human's civilization and culture would be beneficial when it came to designing technology to be used against them. But that had all been from inside the sterile, metal walls of the facility. Knowing the transparent glass of the van's windshield sat directly behind him—a literal window to the alien world beyond—and yet he had to ignore it in favor of concentrating on his first ever mission was agonizing.

Being chosen for such an important task was both exhilarating and terrifying. His expertise lying in designing useful tech, the thought of being allowed to leave the confines of his laboratory had never even crossed his mind until the day he had been tasked with integrating some of his inventions into a battle suit to fit his turtle body. He had been thrilled at the time, dreaming of at last being able to see up close all of the foreign styles and techniques humans had exhibited in their creations over the centuries. But that feeling had been stifled as soon as he had been summoned by Kraang Prime, receiving orders for his first mission: kidnap a young human female named April O'Neil.

While he held no particular love for the humans, the idea of being involved in the kidnapping of one turned his stomach. It was easy to ignore his role in helping one species conquer and wipe out another when he had no direct contact with the victims. But studying up on April O'Neil specifically—what she looked like, her daily habits, the people she came in contact with—lent him a sense of familiarity that made him uncomfortable. He did not know what the Kraang wanted from her; such information was unimportant to the mission and therefore data he was not privy to. But as far as he was aware, he was the only non-Kraang not kept locked away in a cage or tank for further experiments, and if he would not wish his allotment in life on anyone, he could not even imagine being sentenced to an existence even worse. Better to be destroyed than kept alive with no purpose of your own.

TH-001 had no desire to condemn someone else, but the penalty for disobedience was harsh and not one he was willing to pay, no matter how much he hated his marching orders.

"...capture April O'Neil and leave. Just stay focused, remain calm, and..."

As much as he wanted to be out there experiencing as much of the city as he could, a part of him was grateful for his turtle form, its inability to blend in allowing him to act merely as backup in case of trouble. If all went according to plan, he would have little involvement with their human captive, and a successful mission could open the door to more opportunities to venture beyond the confines of his laboratory.

A quick, short knock alerted those waiting inside the van that it was time: their target had finally been spotted.

"April O'Neil is here," TH-001 mumbled, body tensing as he sat ready to spring into action. "Now to listen for the verbal cue to know when—oh. Right." The Kraang on either side of him aimed their dull stares in his direction as his teeth clicked together, forcing his mouth shut. He listened through his helmet as it picked up sounds from outside the van—the heavy, metallic footfalls of the would-be kidnappers, the softer steps coming to a sudden halt with a sigh—

"This is what I get for taking Bleeker at this time of—hey!"

"The one known as April O'Neil will be coming with Kraang."

Signal given, the two beside TH-001 slammed open the double doors out the back and hopped down to the quiet street, waiting to escort their prisoner inside.

The turtle, for once speechless, felt his jaw drop as the outside air swept over the exposed portions of his body for the first time, almost compelling him to rip off his helmet right then and there. His eyes darted all along the city street as he shuffled toward the open doors, taking in the mish mash of colors and shapes that made up the various buildings and parked vehicles. He wanted to run his fingers along the patch of brightly painted bricks, feel their texture, study their composition. He wanted to taste the unfiltered air, smell the manicured trees lining the road.

"Let go of me, you creeps!"

His attention was instantly reined back in. "Right. April O'Neil," he muttered as his eyes at last fell on the struggling female as she was dragged closer to the van. "Stay focused. The target is less than fifty feet away. Remain vigilant. Failure will not be tolerated. Just stay—"

"Donnie!"

The unexpected shout caught everyone off-guard, each snapping their head in the direction of the unfamiliar voice. What they saw were three green blurs carrying primitive weapons, each aiming for a different Kraang—two toward the van while one duel-wielded swords against the Kraang currently holding April O'Neil. TH-001 knew he should engage, but as the one whirling what looked to be wooden sticks on chains charged the figure closest to him, his felt his muscles tense, breath catching in his throat.

It was a turtle. Not one of the many typical Earth varieties, but one that stood several feet tall, walking upright on two legs. One that was using its mouth to speak and swinging the strange weapons around as if specially trained to use them. One that looked just like him.

The fact that TH-001 existed of course meant that there was a possibility of others, but never in his studies of Earth or glimpses into the Kraang mutagen labs had he come across any. He had assumed he was one of the Kraang's creations, one that had proved his loyalty and usefulness enough to not be confined to a cage. But out here on the streets of the human's city stood not merely one but three others just like him, standing tall with bodies covered in scales, giant shells on their backs.

"Where are you—Mikey!"

"Donnie! I can't believe it's really you!"

His eyes were instantly drawn to the turtle wearing the orange mask as it nimbly somersaulted over the Kraang it had been fighting, leaving the one in red to handle two at once. The red turtle did not appear too happy about its situation, but TH-001 had little time to react as the orange one headed straight for him, arms outstretched with a bright smile on its face.

"We're your bros, dude," it said, staring so directly at him that the statement could be referring to no one else, "Splinter's been worried about you since forever! We all have! You belong with us!"

"The turtle is talking to TH-001..." His whispered mutterings again became flowing from his mouth, "Why is the turtle acting as if..."

He knew he should be concentrating on the mission, helping fend the attackers off, but the way it looked at him, those big, round, blue eyes filled with the same foreign softness as his own, caused him to hesitate. He could not help but be captivated by its—no, his gaze, wondering why two sets of eyes could be so fundamentally different from those that had been directed towards him every day of his known life.

"It's ok, bro." The orange turtle's voice was as soft as his eyes. "I'm not gonna—"

The instant the mysterious turtle's hand reached out and touched his arm, TH-001 jerked his mind back to reality, flinching away from the touch as if burned as his eyes darted around wildly. The red turtle had taken care of one of his opponents, while the blue one with the swords was finishing off his second, April O'Neil seeming too stunned and panicked to stand from where she had fallen to the ground.

His heart began to race. "Only TH-001 and one Kraang left..."

"Donnie?"

Without a second thought, TH-001 reached out and touched the turtle wearing the orange mask, activating the stun function he had built into the fingertips of his suit. The other turtle immediately went rigid, eyes wide with shock, but TH-001 kept his fingers pressed against the green skin.

"...two, three, four." Assuming their tolerances were similar, he ceased his assault after the amount of time it had taken the Kraang to cause his own muscles to seize, watching as his victim fell stiffly to the street below.

"Mikey!"

The enraged cry pierced through his thoughts, head jerking up to see the turtle with the red mask disengaging from the last Kraang standing—half of its robotic face now exposed as the false skin had been brutally ripped away—and snarling as he barreled toward him, long, pointed, metal prongs gripped tightly in his hands.

"You're gonna pay for that, you son of a—!"

"No no no no—" TH-001 powered up the thrusters on his boots, shooting into the sky just as the furious turtle took a swing at his face, catching only empty air instead. Heart pounding, he did his best to ignore the angry roars being directed at him and opened a channel to his remaining comrade as he spied the blue turtle staring up at him, standing protectively in front of April O'Neil. "Kraang, start the van. TH-001 will retrieve the target."

"Affirmative."

Trying his best to keep his body from trembling, TH-001 took a deep breath, allowing himself to think only of what needed to be accomplished. "First, the drones. Careful to avoid damaging the target. And then—AH!"

A sharp piece of metal nicked his exposed upper arm as another embedded itself into the metal plating on his shell.

"—care who you are, get back down here so I can kick your—!"

TH-001 hurriedly dodged out of the way of two more projectiles as four small robots detached themselves from his shoulders and arms, zooming about in the air before raining lasers at both turtles' feet. Once distracted enough to stop pelting him with bits of metal, he raised his palm in the direction of the red one, took proper aim, and fired a wide, thin net out of the bracer on his arm, catching him by surprise. As the wire touched the turtle's skin, it sent just enough of a jolt through his body that he briefly spasmed and collapsed to the ground, groaning and shaking his head.

"Raph!"

It would seem that the blue had a similar reaction as the red to seeing his accomplice downed, exactly the reaction TH-001 had been hoping for. Drawing all of the laser fire over toward the stunned turtle, the one with the blue mask hurried to shield him, leaving his target wide open. He quickly angled his flight trajectory downward, heading straight for April O'Neil.

"Get away from me!"

The human tried to outrun him, but there was no escape. Swooping up behind her, he grabbed her around the waist, giving her a quick shock when she continued to wriggle and scream. Grateful that she finally calmed down, he again spoke to his associate, "Target acquired. Leave on my mark."

Recalling his drones—two of which had been destroyed, it seemed—he glanced back at the turtles, the red now fully freed while the blue attempted to give him chase. Aiming the palm not grasping April O'Neil behind him, he fired some laser blasts toward his tail, keeping the turtle and his swords far enough away that when he reached the van he had just enough time to slam the doors shut before the driver stepped on the gas.

"Mission accomplished. Target acquired. Mission accomplished..."

Heart racing, TH-001 could feel his limbs shaking as he attempted to regulate his breathing before turning back to their captive. The night had not gone at all as he had hoped. He continued muttering to himself as he took stock of the damage—three destroyed Kraang droids, one damaged human disguise, the loss of two drones, a piece of sharp metal embedded into the back of his armor, and a minor scratch on his arm. The cost was far higher than it should have been, but the mission was complete, and there before him sat a furious human female, her small arms wrapped tightly around herself as she glared up at him through fierce, wet, blue eyes—eyes that very much reminded him of the turtle with the orange mask he had left lying in the street.

The last he had seen of them, the one in blue had been bearing down on him while the one in red had chosen to return to orange—to "Mikey".

"Mikey..."

Like the humans, that turtle possessed a name. He had heard the blue turtle call out to the red as well, so presumably they all had one. Not merely a designation, used only as a cataloguing feature, but something that helped form their identity.

"...Donnie..."

As the foreign word slid off his tongue, he could not help but wonder if at some point perhaps he had been given one too.

________________________________________

A/N: This one was hard. Can only hope I pulled it off successfully.

As always, critics and grammar police appreciated!

Chapter 3 on tumblr >here<