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mismatchedtwins · 3 months ago

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Mismatched Twins - Take Five

“I cannot believe you’re blaming me for this.”

Donnie ducks under a low point in the metal where the roof caves, running a hand along the vines as they go deeper still. More appear the longer that they travel, clinging to the walls and lying at their feet. He hadn’t sensed a trace of any Krang creatures since they’d stood outside. He doesn’t know whether to be disappointed or grateful.

Leon’s voice carries on endlessly as he trails behind him, always with the same accusing note, so Donnie doesn’t feel the least bit guilty for the past several minutes of silent treatment. Donnie offered to let him rest. He’s the only reason that he’s not. He wants to be a liar and cheat then he can take his punishment like a man.

Then again, if he’d been right about that creature…

Donnie rubs his arms for the tenth time. The last thing that he wants to deal with is anything else altering his body against his will.

Not to mention his poor, brilliant brain.

The rocks that patter in front of his feet pause before they resume noise from a distance, so Donnie crouches.

He flings an arm out when Leon tries to walk past, knocking his momentum back. His companion flails before falling on his butt, barely missing a breath of complaint, “-the one who designed it! So- so really, you did this! Who locks his phone for fourty-six hours! On purpose! Huh?! Who does that?!”

“It’s a security precaution.” He snaps as he glares in the direction of the increasingly pathetic whines. “I have important stuff on there that not just anyone can get their hands on.”

“But two days?!”

“I need the time to track it down and get it back.” He gets out his grapple. “Or blow it up.” He aims randomly. “Which ever comes first.”

“Stuff like what? Game scores?” He gasps, affronted. “You’re being unreasonably cruel over videogame scores?!”

“Like GPS locations that I’d rather the creeps’s trying to kill us didn’t get their hands on?” The grapple hits the ground. “Hmm. Okay, get your shell over here.”

“Why? So you can shove me again?”

“I didn’t shove you.” He mutters. “You were about to walk off a drop. You’re welcome.”

“You could have been nicer about it.” The misery in his voice shifts to mild curiosity. Now Donnie’s forced to wonder if he was intentionally being that annoying. “How deep is it?”

“Not too far.” The grapple clicks into place. “But I wouldn’t recommend jumping in your condition.”

“So we turn back?”

“Of course not.” Donnie clicks on the phone light. Leon hisses and rolls away from it, crouching like some kind of feral creature. “I’m seeing where the vines lead. It’s the first source of life that I’ve seen. I’m going to find out how it’s thriving.”

“What if we don't?” Leon volunteers as he crawls over and peeks down the drop. “I don’t think these things like turtles.”

“It’s vegetation.” Donnie dismisses as he points the phone. There are more vines curled at the bottom, but they don’t look very threatening. “Oooh, spooky. Do you need a nightlight?”

He holds out the phone and Leon swipes it back. “Yeah, you joke about it now, but we’ll see who’s laughing when they slither into your skin and try to kill you.”

He smirks. "I thought you weren't scared?"

"I'm not!"

“Uh huh. You know, you sound exactly like my brother when he talks about cockroaches.” Donnie tugs on a vine. It doesn't react in the slightest. It also feels sturdy, so he follows it to the end, bracing his feet against the rock edge. “Look. See? They’re harmless.”

“I think you misspoke deadly. Dead-ly.”

“They haven’t hurt us yet.” Donnie teases, amused by the lost bravo. “Where’s your sense of adventure?”

“Outside the cave.” Leon points the light. “Let’s go get it.”

Donnie raises an eye ridge and then jumps. Leon yelps and the light momentarily scatters above as Donnie hops his way down. Leon shouts after him, and then keeps shouting, but he’s happily ignored as Donnie makes contact with the ground. He rubs his aching shoulder, feet crushing something that crunches with each step.

Donnie crouches to run three fingers over the suddenly brittle texture, debating the nest of vines beneath his feet. He looks up as Leon slides down beside him, gripping the vine with one hand, and Donnie plucks the phone from his grasp.

“Oh, good. You conquered your fears. Congrats.”

“Well, when nothing tried to eat you…” Leon shrugs as Donnie examines the area and then shines the light upward.

The drop is too deep to not include some kind of way back up. Nothing looks broken or bent, so it must be intentional. The metal is completely smooth, difficult for hands or tentacles to climb up, and the tunnel behind them is too small for one of the Krang suits. Unless they have especially sticky secreting glandular hairs, but even then, it’s highly irregular to have this kind of pathway in a functioning-

“Hey, does this look weird to you?”

Leon squints up. Donnie levels him with a deadpan.

“Can’t just be me.” His companion insists. “This feel trap-y. Way trap-y. It’s like… in the air. You have to feel that.”

“It’s a mix of the dark and the silence.” He informs. “Your brain is trying to fill it by assuming there’s something else present and, right now, the adrenaline in your system is triggering a threat response.”

It’s simple science. Comforting. Reasonable.

Donnie points the light down the tunnel. There’s an opening too far to see. Anything could be there. Waiting. Lurking. “But… I think I’ll keep the light on. Just in case.”

Leon nods rapidly. “Good call.”

Neither of them move.

Leon bows, a hand outstretched. “Ladies first.”

“Cowards second.” Donnie returns easily, taking the first step. Leon scoffs and grumbles, but he follows with uneasy tracks.

“This battery is actually lasting longer than expected.” Donnie admits to keep the silence from descending. He’d much rather something jump out at him with noise than without it. He settles in his safe place: theories and facts. “The percentage hasn’t even changed. Even with the conserving, I’d have expected some decrease…”

“Oh, yeah, Donnie designed these special.” Leon steps a bit closer as he allows himself to get preoccupied by the phone. “Haven’t charged that bad boy in two days.”

“What?” He gawks and Leon smirks. “When you’re as chronically online as Donnie, he wouldn’t dare let Donnie brand engineering die before he gets at least three days of constant scrolling out of it.” Something in his voice changes. “He gave me his old one. Think his newest can go, like, a week or something without charging.”

“Wow.” Donnie breathes, super conscious of every movement as he lowers the phone instead of taking it apart like he really, really, really wants to. No one can understand his woes. “That’s… impressive.”

“That’s Don.”

Donnie looks at him, trying to place the emotion. His tone is mocking and his smirk is dry, but his shoulders have slumped low.

The wall of anger that he’s constructing cracks as his eyes soften.

He’s not the only turtle separated from his family. They’d both been abandoned here by people that they care about. At least Leon did what his team thought was best to save his New York. If they're too scared to risk using some 'key', if their new York really was overrun by this- body dominating Krang species... It must have been dire. The fate of the world and all that.

What's Donnie's excuse?

Sensei warned him. And he still ran after her without thinking.

Now his family has to face her alone.

He should have reached out to Leo.

He would have come up with a better plan.

Leon glances at him, bringing a hand to brush over his red marks. “Something on my face?”

“Blood and bruises.” Donnie looks ahead. “Nothing new.”

They exit the tunnel and enter a massive room, eyes widening in sync. Donnie keeps going as Leon gasps, “Vine central.”

Donnie couldn’t have put it better himself. They overtake every inch of the middle room, sparse near the sides, many converging on the entryway. There are pillars of them among the new nest. Like a firm stroke of paint, they all flow upwards in perfect lines, tangled into many different shapes at the very top.

“Pretty dead in here.” Leon quips as he comes to the same conclusion as Donnie’s starting to. Like the bottom of the drop, many of the vines have already begun decay, and others are in the obvious stages. If something was providing them with life, it’s not anymore.

Donnie pokes the ground. It no longer feels like metal, but it’s not dirt either. What exactly were these things growing in?

“The Krang creature could have been… Feeding? Off of these things?” Donnie guesses. “Or, at least it had lair in here. Must have used the vines to climb…”

He stands up, attention caught by a shadow on the side wall.

A massive, blocky shadow. Curious, he heads toward it.

“Doesn’t explain what this place is.” Leon’s voice is loud enough to echo over to Donnie’s position, blanketing the silence. “Other than creep-tastic.”

When Donnie glances in his direction, he’s standing in the shadows that the light is leaving behind, squinting at one of the vine structures. “I think these things need some pruning.”

“Let me know if you find a weed whacker.”

"All I got is a handy-dandy sword. Not sure if it'll cut it." He snickers. "Get it? Get it? Cut? Wait, no, I can do better-"

"Save yourself the embarrassment."

"Wouldn't be much of a point! Wits to sharp for you?"

"Yep. That won't get old fast."

"Bah! My puns are cutting-edge!"

He shakes his head and continues on. "Focus please?"

"I am so focused. I am- the most focused."

"Good. Then feel free to take a stab at it any day now."

"Don’t gotta tell me twi- HEY!"

Leon laughs and Donnie grins to himself. It fades into frustration as he watches the strange, blocky area become larger with every step.

Yeesh, that is a lot bigger up close.

He really doesn’t want to climb anything, so he searches along the wall for an opening. Leon has apparently taken up swinging his blade like an axe. Donnie can hear each time that it makes an impact on the trunk composed of vines. It doesn’t seem like the smartest move for someone with likely bruised ribs, but as long as it keeps him busy, Donnie’s not about to complain.

He almost trips on an area where the vines gain entrance to the box-like wall, and when he catches himself, he cringes when his hand comes away sticky. He pokes it, twice for good measure.

He flings a bit of the gross off before looking to Leon. “It looks like the vines are… Interconnected with some kind of biological mass.”

“Krang like fleshy ships.” Leon sounds out of breath. “Technodrome was a big mess of ew.” He shudders. “Especially the command station. Ditched that place quick. Was muy nasteh.”

The structure tilts. Leon scrambles back. “TIMBEEER!”

Donnie hurries over as it lands. Leon hugs his hilt. “Talk about tightly wound. Junior got this in one swipe.”

Donnie… Will ask later. He leans over curiously as Leon slices through the vines, watching the weaker ones snap open before it slides apart like a rotten peel, revealing… Nothing.

It sits empty.

“Got a dud.” Leon reports unhelpfully. “You do the next one. But I call dibs on timber. I am the timberer.”

“If I’m going to go through all the work, then I expect the reward.” Donnie drops the phone in his free hand, walking up to another one as his companion sputters his disagreements.

He sets a hand on his hip. "Light?"

Leon begrudgingly points the light upward. Donnie walks up to the intriguingly crafted trunk and checks to make sure the twisted vines are compact enough to hold his weight.

Then he starts climbing.

Leon gives him about a minute of peace.

Not surprising. All good things come to an end.

"Do I want to know?"

"Think smarter." Donnie hefts himself up. "Not harder."

"So... Is that a no...?"

"It... Is... A..." Donnie reaches the top. "Throw me your sword."

Donnie doesn't expect much from Leon, but he definitely thought that he'd pretend to aim. Instead, he does a little twirl and flings it.

For the second time that day, Donnie finds himself inches from a spinning blade. He can actually see his reflection with how close it lands, practically taking off his beak.

He looks down, furious. "LEON!"

"You said-"

"I DIDN'T MEAN TAKE OFF MY HEAD!"

"Your head's fiiiine."

With a low growl, Donnie steadies his other three limbs and then yanks the blade free. He goes for the thinner vines, stabbing the sword a few inches in and then dragging it down. They peel open easily and Donnie spots small objects at the bottom. He drops the blade and then shuffles closer to the opening. He reaches in.

And pulls out a bone.

A yelp escapes his throat. His pushes back in surprise, throwing it back in and upsetting his balance in the process. He hits his carapace, crushing vines as he lands. Leon doesn't move. "See, this is one of those times where I just know I'm going to regret asking." Donnie gets to his feet. He points over his shoulder. "Wanna skip to the part where we both agree to leave?"

"Good idea." Donnie grabs the blade. "I suddenly have a really bad feeling about this place."

"Yeah, no kidd-" The smirks freezes on Leon’s face.

Donnie pauses, the light aimed at his plastron. “What?”

His eyes are dots, locking on him. “I can’t move my legs.”

“Can’t move your…”

Leon shines the light downward. It reveals two-toed feet planted on the pile of vines, and the very not-dead vines pushing their way into the flesh around his ankle.

It seems like the appropriate time to scream.

He steps forward and a large vine shoots at him. He slashes at it fast, diving to his triggered screaming companion and slicing him free. He grabs his arm and tosses him to create distance from the pile, ducking as two vines shoot over his head.

He spins to separate them from their roots, hurrying away to watch them hit the ground. He stumbles into Leon. Hands lock around the top lip of his shell, peeking at the small vine tendrils slithering out from the not-dirt. His eyes dart to Donnie and then the exit.

"Any ideas?" Donnie demands. Leon turns frazzled. "Me?! You're the one-"

Donnie's brain glitches. "Are you not a leader?"

"Well, yeah, but-!" Donnie surges forward to meet the vines that want to try their luck. "GREAT! SO LEAD!"

He doesn't dare look back until Leon is grabbing his arm and dragging him the opposite direction of the exit.

"Where're we-!"

"I lead! You follow!"

Leon holds out his hand. Donnie bites back a retort and hands him his sword. The young, infuriating leader continues his sprint, bringing Donnie along with him. "Do I get to know the plan?!"

"Don't touch the vines!"

"THAT'S NOT A PLAN!"

Donnie tears his arm away, both for rebllion's sake and to obediantly flip over the connection between the strange mass and the vine nest. Leon carefully bounces around the vines on the ground as the nest grows thicker along this side of the room. The vines are still shuffling around each other like snakes, hiding amongst the dead ones.

It occurs to him that they're no longer attacking.

He looks down as he hops over an entwined pair that have latched onto the wall across from them. Of course. They're plants.

Creepy, haunted alien plants. Limited senses. Likely can't see or hear anything. But if someone steps on the lives ones...

They both slide to a stop near the tunnel. He meets the calculating gaze. “They don’t know where we are.”

“They will.” Leon looks down the vine pathway and then lowers the light, asking, "Ready partner?"

Donnie nods. "Let's make this quick."

Leons shakes out his arms. Donnie readies his stance.

Then they run for their lives.

“Leon.” Donnie keeps his eyes on the prize as he senses movement behind them. The brittle texture that signifies death crunches beneath his feet. “What, exactly, is your history with these things?”

Leon swallows. "Long story?"

"Abridged version now."

Leon pushes them both to the ground as vines launch overhead. "Nothing helpful! They were on Krang's ship! He used them to restrain me and my bros!"

They bound back to their feet. "And you didn't think that was something you should share with the class?!"

"I didn't think it mattered if he's not here!"

"It DOESN'T MATTER?!" Donnie shrieks as he ducks into the wall. Leon slashes the vine that comes between them. "EVERYTHING MATTERS! And NEXT TIME the guy with the permanent information should think, ‘oh, hey, maybe I should tell my fellow turtle why I think the den of evil vines is EVIL’?!”

"Maybe next Mr Mock Donatello should ask-!"

"MOCK DONATELLO?!"

They reach the dropping point as Donnie furiously whirls on him. Leon doesn't look back, more preoccupied with the vines that are launching off the walls, which, is annoyingly the more valid concern.

But they are so not done-!

Donnie goes for his belt.

He aims above them and shoots the grapple.

It doesn’t lock, falling to him. It's bound to happen at some point, but he doesn't know why it always has to be at the worst moments.

He spins towards Leon as he cries out. The vines have somehow managed to wrap themselves around his blade, holding tight even as it tries to cut into them. They yank at it and he loses his footing with a cry, frantically trying to regain it as they attempt to pull him through the tunnel. Donnie spots the ones that shoot for his legs.

Donnie gets three seconds to panic and two more to plan.

He grabs his throwing stars and tosses them at the vines attempting the hidden assault, abandoning his position to slip to his side. Leon looks at him as he grabs his arms and uses both their weight against them. The blade slices through, freeing his sword. Donnie lands on Leon's plastron, ignoring the pained cry.

The phone must be on the floor now because the area is lit up. He doesn’t waste time looking for it. He grabs the blade from his loose hold and shoves the grapple into his hands, flipping to his feet to swipe at the incoming enemy.

He uses one last second to look back. "MOVE!"

Leon is already on his knees, arm cupped around his chest and fingers locked over the phone case. Eyes wide, he sprints to his feet at the command.

Donnie turns to face the threat as the grapple fires and the vines surge for him. He dodges the first assault and then rushes forward to cut off their reach, hating how unsteady the blade is in bo-adapted hands. He really should have taken the switching weapons lessons more seriously-

"I did it! Hey, I- no!"

Donnie whirls.

Leon's reaches out.

He feels them latch on.

His heart skips. The hilt flies from his hands.

Donnie hits his carapace with a choked cry as the vine closes around his neck to drag him down. He manages to grab a throwing star from his belt, but the vines snagged his wrist too, throwing it down to the ground. He hears the star swirls against the floor.

The panic stalls his racing heart, and that’s all the leverage they need to wrap around his torso. His shoulder burns as his free hand claws at the vine around his throat, suddenly getting a weak inhale in when it comes loose. In the next moment, it’s locking against his chin and his carapace scrapes the ground.

“NO!”

Horrfied eyes lock.

Everything goes black.

Not because he goes unconscious, which in retrospect would be a serious blessing, but because the vines have encased his body and have taken it upon themselves to pull him back through the tunnel.

His head rams something. His shell skids. Air rushes past his body.

He thrashes and squirms and bucks- and suddenly, he stops.

Nothing beneath his feet, his carapace, or his head. He manages to tear at the vines around one leg and kick out. Nothing.

How is there nothing?!

His arms are locked down at his side as the vines regain their hold around his lower limbs. A frantic sound escapes his throat when he can feel the pressure against his scales, shuddering as they slither up his plastron and press into his bridge. They fail to find a purchase against his shell, but they succeed with skin.

His muscles tense as he endures the pricks when the vines slip in and move beneath flesh.

A subtle thud from the dark. His fingers flex and his muscles tense as he tries to continue the struggle, but his attention is drawn to the brief flicker of light. A vine finds its way into the back of his neck and he hisses when it shoves further down.

The rest decide to follow its lead.

They all thrust at once and hot fire burns across his skin when they keep pushing. He screams. The vines don't stop.

His heart pulsates and the room flickers with light.

He blinks, whoozy, as the cage that the vines are forming comes into view. The room goes dark. He can feel every weak tremor, every breathless pant, every twitch of the mass beneath his skin.

A steady thud reverberates. His body is on fire.

His head lolls against his chest. The roof flickers.

A steady thud and then light.

Donnie's vision goes dark.

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