Everyone Give This More Love Cuz It Is Awesome And Here’s To Hoping It’s A Happy Ending 🥲👍

Everyone give this more love cuz it is awesome and here’s to hoping it’s a happy ending 🥲👍

Double-Mutated Mikey

Chapter 25: Reconnaissance

Continued from the short story written by @boots-with-the-fur-club

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Donnie wakes up first. After a small battle of disorientation, he realizes that he's in his brother's traincar and the odd weight on his stomach is Mikey. He’d forgotten that they’d all made a turtle pile in Raph’s room…

Raph is pressed up against the wall, sleeping on his side with his arms stretched out over his brothers as though he were protecting them in their dreams. Leo is on Dee’s side, clinging to his arm and legs as he desperately tries not to fall off the edge of the bed. Mikey is deep asleep, body sprawled across the three of them — his legs are folded over Raphael, his torso and head are draped across Dee’s stomach, and his arms and tail are hanging over Leo’s side.

Donnie sighs softly, wondering what made Leo and Mikey call for this. Leo seemed pretty serious… and now, looking in the dim light of late morning, he can see loose gauze wrapped around his neck and leg.

Mikey starts muttering in his sleep. His fingers curl across Dee’s plastron, trying to cling to something he can’t hold. His lips purse, his brow furrows. He moans in distress. It’s quiet enough in the room that Donnie can catch a few words he says…

“….Nnnoo… no… no more tests….. please….. I wanna… home……”

Donnie sighs and starts to trace circles on the back of Mikey’s head, hoping the motion will soothe him.

“You’re safe, Mikey. There’s no more tests.”

Mikey somehow hears Donnie in his dreams. His expression relaxes.

“…No… tests…?”

“No more tests,” Donnie repeats, trying not to let his surprise ruin the moment. Maybe he can use this to help Mikey’s dream become calmer… “Mikey, if you can hear me, you’re not in the labs anymore. You’re safe. You’re home.”

Mikey’s head turns, rolling across tummytello as his subconscious tries to adhere to Donnie’s commentary.

“…home…. home……”

Mikey stretches a bit before moving more onto Donatello, his head resting just below Donnie’s chin.

“….is…. is brothers…. home…?”

“Yes, Mikey. We’re home, too.”

“…mmmm…… Mikey loves brothers… Mikey… M-Mike—“

He starts crying in his sleep.

“…mmmm'nsterrr…. m’so sorry……”

Donnie gently wraps his arms over his brother and kisses his head.

“It’s okay.”

“………….hurt…” Mikey croaks.

It isn’t too big of a leap to deduce what Mikey could be sorry for. Leo did not have those injuries when Donnie went to bed. Leo insisting that they have a turtle pile immediately because Mikey needed comforting. Mikey must've hurt him --

It suddenly hits him.

Mikey… hurt him?

‘Monster’…

Donnie turns and looks at Leo again, this time really analyzing the wounds. With one hand, he pulls the wraps around his neck down.

There are bruises. Scratches. Scabs. Claw marks.

His leg is torn up, by the looks of his pants. There are spots and smears of dark brown blood stains on the fabric.

What did Mikey do…?

A horrible thought comes into Donnie’s mind, that maybe Mikey is in a metamorphosis and will soon be completely animalistic and will lose all sense of who he is and —

NO, no, no no no! Stop that! He thinks to himself. Those thoughts aren’t helpful. Mikey is getting better, anyone can see that! He’s speaking in full sentences now, using first person speech instead of talking in the third. He remembers their names, he knows who they are, things are looking up! They just need to give him more time… This isn’t the kind of problem that gets solved overnight or in a week. This is the kind of healing process that takes months, maybe even years. There’s no sense in getting discouraged at the starting line.

Donnie exhales deeply. Mikey rises and falls with his chest. The breathing calms them both down.

“You’re not a monster,” Donnie says. He tries to force himself to believe it. Mikey is no monster…

But what he is now…

…Is no monster either. It’s still Mikey.

He has to believe that. He has to.

Mikey rubs his cheek against Donnie’s plastron, his tail slowly sweeps across him in a lazy wag.

Donnie sighs.

He’s so unbelievably tired…

Maybe he can sleep in a little more, since everyone else is still resting. It must’ve been a late night for them all.

Donnie holds Mikey close and closes his eyes.

.

.

.

Leo is woken when something behind his head makes a deafening buzz in the silence of the room.

In his startle, he falls off the edge of the mattress and lands with a bump onto the floor. He groans, rubbing his bottom in discomfort as he slowly rises to get the phone.

It's not even his, it's Donnie's. Good thing Leo remembers the passcode...

BZZ! INCORRECT PASSKEY.

Maybe he typed it in wrong? He tries again.

BZZ! INCORRECT PASSKEY.

Huh. Dee changed the code. That's not like him. He only ever does this when he's working on a surprise that he doesn't want spoiled, or if something is bugging him...

Fortunately, he doesn't need to unlock the phone to see what the buzzing was for. There's a message on the lockscreen from Casey Jones Jr. in the group chat.

CASEY: GOING OUT TO GET SOME PIZZA FOR YOU GUYS

Leo smiles. That's nice of him. Considering how he's still unfamiliar with this un-kranged, warless New York and is coming to terms with all the changes (good and bad) that came with time travel, going to order and pick up a pizza for a surrogate family is a pretty big step.

Leo's smile fades as he thinks about it more.

Is... is Casey even a part of their family?

Splinter calls him 'future boy', still. It's a term of endearment on Splint's end, but how does Casey feel about it? Donnie treats him like a new teammate, not so much like a friend. From what Casey has said, his Donatello was like an uncle to him. Mikey was some mystic butt-kicking warrior... but Mikey is exempt from this scenario due to recent events. Raph is also exempt, considering that... well, that Casey didn't really know him. He died when Casey was still a little toddler.

Leo swallows the fear that comes with such a thought. He watches Raph, his breathing, slow and steady and clearly visible. Donnie snores with every other breath, his mouth wide open and drooling. Mikey purrs with each exhale, mostly curled on Dee's chest.

He thinks that by watching them, the fear that they could be lost at any time will dissipate. It doesn't. It only grows. How does he know events won't continue as foretold? How does he know that Raph won't die in his twenties? Or that Donnie will die in his thirties? Or that Mikey -- Mikey...

...How does he know that none of them will ever suffer again?

And how does he know that he won't be forced into a decision that takes him away from them all again?

It isn't until Raph starts stirring and groaning that Leo realizes how loud his hyperventilating is, and that he's been crying. He quickly scrambles back onto the bed and wipes his face against the sheets and covers before Raph can see him.

It's quiet.

You up?

Leo sighs, relieved that Raph didn't catch him in his moment of weakness.

Yep. What's up?

How's Mikey? Why did you want to do a cuddle sesh?

Can't a guy just ask to get uncomfortably close to his brothers late at night every once in a while?

Mikey was crying. Why?

Leo sighs, and sits up so Raph can see the bandages.

He had a nightmare and... woke up rough.

Raph's eyes go wide.

Holy $#!%.

Hey! Leo scolds with a smirk. I thought we weren't allowed to swear?

Sorry, sorry, I forgot you could hear my thoughts. Mikey did that...?

Yeah, Leo sighs as he lays back down, arms propped behind his head so he can see still see Raphael's expressions. But it's not that bad. Just some abrasions and bruises... the leg doesn’t even hurt anymore --!

HE GOT YOUR LEG TOO?! Raph yells in his brother's mind, causing Leo to flinch.

Dude! Volume!

Leo, this is serious!

You remember what it was like.

Well... yeah. But seriously, Leo... Are you okay?

Leo pauses to think it through.

I'm... I dunno. Physically, I'll be okay. My leg stings slightly, but that won't last, so I'm not worried. I got it cleaned and bandaged last night before bed.But emotionally? Mentally? I... I can't say yet. I don't know what to say to Mikey about it. We talked before we came in, and... he seemed more hurt by what happened than I did. He's really struggling with this, I think. More than he's letting on.

Raph gets that feeling, too... he sighs. And... he ain't the only one struggling.

What do you mean --?

What're you guys talking about? a third voice asks, entering the private mind call.

The two jump out of their skin, causing Leo to once again tumble out of the bed.

DUDE! What are --

You think I don't know a silent conversation when I see one? Donnie asks incredulously. I practically invented them. What are you two trying to keep secret?

Nothing, just... wanted to talk about Mikey, Leo answers.

...Oh, Donnie replies flatly.

...Uh, anything you want to say? Leo asks, raising a brow at his twin. You sound like you have something to say.

Donnie strokes Mikey's head quietly. His fivehead furrows, he presses his lips together tightly to keep them from quivering.

Raph takes Donnie's freehand, and squeezes it twice. Donnie glances over at him, tears pricking the edges of his eyes. Leo wonders if they're doing a private mind meld on another line, or what. Eventually, Donnie swallows hard and squeezes his eyes shut before turning back to his other brother.

.........Leo...... I think there's something that... that I need to tell you...

.

.

.

Bishop groans as he stands in line for his food. He’s so sick of coffee and stale donuts, so he’s decided to go for a signature NYC meal… pizza. Sure, it’s not the recommended meal of an EPF agent, but he’s not so sure he can even call himself an agent anymore.

It’s getting harder to do his job, for many reasons. Professor Honeycutt sent him some footage he managed to download from the drones. They got a blurry frame of Mikey. So now they know where he is… well, they already knew. Now they just have confirmation. Honeycutt also sent him a single frame of a young human boy. Bishop hadn’t seen him during the initial sighting. Apparently they’d tried facial recognition with the kid, but nothing came up. There was no record of him anywhere. No medical history, birth record, citizenship status, social media profile, internet history, nothing.

Well, almost nothing.

They’ve found one thing of interest.

Apparently Ms. Campbell had uncovered a blurry pic on some social media site taken during the invasion, moments before the destruction of the alien ship.

A young man, swinging across the city with a grappling hook and hockey stick as he fought against the strange monsters and protected the civilians. The caption read ‘PICS OR IT DIDN’T HAPPEN’.

The boy from the drone footage was wearing an oversized red hoodie and ripped jeans with sneakers, completely casual clothing and not something you’d typically wear in a mutant-infested sewer.

The mysterious hero was wearing a mask and armor-like attire, so for mere mortals it was difficult to connect the two.

But the build and height was the same. The hair was the same length, colour, and style. But most notably, and most importantly, the thing that really tied them together — was the fact that they both had the same weapon.

Bishop has been studying the face. It’s a bit pixelated and blurry, and the shocked look of surprise makes his expression difficult, but it’s all he has. He’s been focusing on features that are easy to identify — the long hair, the chipped gap in his teeth, and of course the weapon.

Though, the guy wouldn’t be stupid enough to carry the weapon in broad daylight.

Then again, he is just a kid, judging by the looks of him.

Bishop sees his order come out — a heavenly golden slice of mushroom and olives, with a soda and salad to go. He thanks the server, leaves a tip, and turns to exit when a shoulder bumps into him.

"Sorry," they say quickly, shying away from him.

"No worries --"

Bishop freezes when he sees a tuft of navy black hair slip from the hoodie. He analyzes their figure... same height... same build... and a heavy tote bag with the end of what looks like a hockey stick poking out.

The kid keeps their hood up, but offers the server at the counter a handful of dollars and requests a full pizza to go.

"...You know what? I got that," Bishop says, handing his card back to the server. "I'll pay for it."

"Really?" the kid asks, turning to look at Bishop.

Bishop recognizes his face instantly. It is the same person from the drone feed.

And he knows where Mikey is.

"Yeah," Bishop answers him with a smile, "it's no problem. So, where's the party?"

"Huh?"

"You're getting a large pizza, are you gonna eat it all yourself?"

The kid goes stonefaced.

"Yep. All mine. I'm really hungry. Have you never eaten a whole pizza by yourself?"

"Not since I was in college," Bishop says with a dry chuckle. "but after the week I've had, maybe I'll try it again. But I was just wondering. Hey, mind if I ask you a weird question?"

The boy doesn't answer, only grips the strap on his duffle bag. Bishop sees how he carries himself, how he stands tall and straight and feigns his confidence, but not his bravery. This kid is a soldier. Bishop wonders who's been training him to be a soldier as a teen...

Bishop he takes out his phone and shows him the video frame of him swinging his hockey stick at the drone.

"Is this you?"

The kid's face goes pale. He swallows softly.

"...Where did you get--" he whispers.

"I think you know," Bishop whispers, taking off his shades. He maintains eye contact to make sure the boy understands the severity of the situation.

The teen takes a step back, but Bishop grabs his wrist.

"Look kid, I'm not here to do anything to you. Or to our mutual friend, Mikey."

The kid's eyes widen.

"Let me go--"

"You're all in danger," Bishop says quickly, quietly. "They know what you look like, and that's not all..."

Bishop swipes and shows him the frame of Mikey and the teleporting mutant.

"Leo?" the kid whispers in horror.

He takes the phone and stares at the screen image.

"What... why are you telling me this?" he asks, looking up in fear at the grownup. "What do you want?"

"For Mikey to stay safe," Bishop whispers back. "If the EPF get their hands on Mikey again, they'll end up killing him with their stupid experiments or whatever else they have planned."

"But you're the EPF," he snaps. "Why should I trust you? What do you have to gain?"

"The EPF isn't supposed to be like this," Bishop defends. "They've corrupted it for their own successes and... it needs to stop. We're trying to take it all down."

"Who's we?"

"Me and a friend," Bishop clarifies. "We've been collecting data, smuggling info, gathering evidence. But we can't do it alone. I understand you have a hacker on your side? Likes the colour purple, wants us to 'leave them alone'?"

The kid huffs a chuckle.

"Well, what if I do?"

"We could use their help in collecting some more data. If you agree, I can send you some of our evidence files and some of the studies of the --"

"You said we were in danger," the kid interrupts. "What did you mean by that?"

Bishop halts mid-sentence, realizing he got off topic.

"...Right. They know where you are."

"Hmmph," the kid grumbles. Obviously they do, they have a picture...

"They're sending more drones into the tunnels, but with every wave your hacker friend disables them."

"So where's the danger?" he asks, snarkily.

"Don't you see? You're up against a government-sanctioned board of insane scientists with an army of muscleheads and tech nerds at their disposal. They will not stop until they get Mikey back."

"I've been up against worse," he answers. The tone in his voice makes Bishop believe him completely.

"I'm sure. But kid, this isn't to be taken lightly. They're coming for you. Whether by drone or drill, they will be attacking soon."

"So then, what do you suggest we do?" he asks.

His voice is accusatory, and Bishop can't blame him.

He's the one that told them where Mikey was...

Bishop heaves a heavy sigh.

"...Mikey has a tracker imbedded somewhere under his skin. I don't know where, but that's how we found him."

"WHAT?!" the kid growls. "You tagged him??"

"Yes, and you need to find that tracker and disable it immediately. Then, move out. Find some new place to hide. Anywhere. Keep it secretive. They'll be keeping an eye out for you specifically and your blue-green friend here with the portals. Is there anywhere you can go?"

The kid's eyes dart away as he thinks it over.

"...Well, in the meantime --" Bishop takes out a small scrap of paper and quickly writes on it. "-- here's my info. If you need anything, I'll be in touch. Oh, and if you or your hacker friend should decide to help us out to take down the EPF, then here's my email... as well as my friend's contact info..."

The kid looks down at the paper as Bishop writes on it. His eyes suddenly go wide.

"YOU'RE John Bishop?!" he asks, flabbergasted.

"Yes, I am," he says quickly.

Maybe the hacker found his info and warned them about him...

"...And my friend is Professor Zayton Honeycutt, he's an engineer with the EPF. He's a little jumpy, but a good egg."

Bishop hands the scrap of paper to the boy, whose jaw is still dropped.

"I'll be seeing you around, kid," he whispers as he places his glasses back on and walks out. "Stay safe. Enjoy the pizza."

The teen watches him, almost starstruck as if he were some celebrity.

Bishop guesses his reputation proceeds him... but how does this kid know him?

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