Chapter Text
Leo can smell the Chorizo and sweet corn from the living room. His eyes trail along the leather couch, looking around the small yet cozy apartment. Correction, looking around (Name)’s small yet comfortable apartment. He can’t exactly remember how he got here.
He lifts his head from his warm arm, looking around through half-lidded eyes as the sound of the city roars in the background, along with ‘All the Stars’ by SZA and Kendrick Lamar. He isn’t quite sure how he remembers that, but for a moment, just a brief moment, Leo thinks that the apocalypse was a dream. An elaborate, vivid dream. He’s at home. He’s safe and warm, and Raph is still trying to get Donatello out of bed.
But he hears (Name) curse in the other room and the sound of a cup dropping on the floor. He immediately moves from the couch and heads towards the kitchen, the familiarity of it heightening his opinion of the apocalypse being a dream.
He sees (Name) standing at the kitchen counter over a pot of boiling water and pasta. They’re relaxed. The most relaxed Leo has seen them. There isn’t a single muscle on their body that seems tense.
They’re wearing a plain, dark brown sweater, and black pants, there’s a belt that keeps their pants up, but they’re also wearing shoes. It almost wants to make Leo yell at them for wearing shoes inside the house, but he doesn’t. He crosses his arms, leaning against the doorway.
“Heya handsome, what’cha making over there?”
(Name) turns to him, holding a can of sweetcorn. They stare at him for a moment and then grin. “Creamy Chorizo and Sweetcorn Penne.” They reply, turning back to the dish.
Leo pushes himself off the wooden doorway, walking over and wrapping his arms around their waist. He squeezes his head between their side and their arm. He hears (Name) chuckle and sighs fondly at this.
“Can I try some?” Leo half whispers into (Name)’s side.
“No, it's not ready yet.” (Name) replies with a shake of their head. “You’ve got 10 minutes left, love.”
“Please?”
“No.”
“ Please, por favor-”
“Leonardo Kaito Hamato, do not touch that food.”
“Or what?” Leo replies, drawing his head back. “What are you gonna do?”
“I’ll call Raph.”
“He won’t care.”
(Name) is silent momentarily before they shake their head, opening the drawer on their left and fishing through its contents. “I’ll tell Splinter then.”
Leo scoffs, buzzing his lips while he rolls his eyes. “ Please , pops will take my side when I tell him you’re wearing shoes in the house.”
“ My house, you mean? Your dad doesn’t have any jurisdiction over-”
Leo hears them shut the drawer and open another one.
(Name) sighs. “Leo, can you grab the can opener for me?”
“What? Too short?”
“I’m taller than you, genius.” (Name) replies curtly. “No, I must’ve left it in the cupboard in the dining room. Can you get it for me?”
Leo is silent.
“Please?” (Name) asks.
“If I can have a bite.”
(Name) looks at him, gaze trailing over his body. (Name) shakes their head. “Fine, you can have some pasta.”
Leo is already gone, even though he can hear (Name) shouting, ‘But only one bite!’ from the other room.
He heads towards the dining room and up to the cupboard, the wooden doors opening with a creak. He fishes through the various boxes and crates. Most of the boxes are handmade, much like everything in (Name)’s house. (Name) made practically everything he owned, and Leo liked that. Where did (Name) learn to do that? He…can’t remember…
“Leo?”
A voice says.
Leo stops searching for the can opener and smiles. He turns around. “Ye-”
He cuts himself off, finding himself staring at the beige-colored wall. He frowned and returned to the boxes, grinning like a child when he saw the can opener. “Found it!” He calls out, rushing back to the kitchen with a bounce in his step.
(Name) smiles softly at him and stirs the pot of boiling pasta. “Did you put the boxes away?”
Leo waves his hand, puts the can opener on the counter, and opens the drawer below him. “I can do it later.”
“And by later, that means…two weeks from now, right?”
Leo’s grin fades, and he turns to (Name), narrowing his eyes.
(Name) snickers, grabbing him by the shoulder and shaking him lightly. “I’m kiddin’; we can clean ‘em up after dinner; sounds good?”
“Yep.” Leo smiled, grabbing a fork from the drawer. He reaches into the pot, pulls out a single pasta piece, and then dips it in the saucepan next to it, causing (Name) to shout out. Not exactly in anger or annoyance, (Name) seems more appalled if anything.
Leo holds the dipped pasta in the air as (Name) rushes over and tries to grab the fork from his hands. Leo is too quick, however, and the two end up stumbling around the kitchen for a while. Leo is laughing, and so is (Name).
Then, (Name) pauses, stepping to the right instead of the left, and the fork falls from his hands and onto the ground.
The two stare at it briefly before Leo snickers and (Name) smacks his shoulder.
“You’re cleaning that up.” (Name) replies, beginning to walk back to the stove.
Leo grabs their wrist, pulling them back and into a hug. He just…inhales deeply, the cologne or perfume from his lover much more delightful than the food in the kitchen. He feels (Name) wrap their arms around him, warmth filling his body as he sighs. “Y’know, Raph is gonna wonder where I am.”
He hears (Name) snicker above him as the man looks down at him through a half-lidded gaze. They lick their lips. “Eh…he knows you're with me if you don’t pick up the phone.”
“Yeah,” Leo replies, burying his head into the man’s chest more. “He does.”
Leo hears (Name) hum above him, and he looks up. He smiles, and (Name) smiles, leaning close to him.
Leo felt his heartbeat quicken and almost felt sweat forming on his brow.
“Really?” (Name) whispers.
Leo swallows. “Yeah…yeah he uh…he does, promise.”
(Name)’s head moves next to his ear; they’re practically whispering into it. “Are you sure you're okay to stay the night?”
Leo nods. “Yeah, it's fine. I’m an adult.”
(Name) hums again, leaning closer to him. Their noses pressed together, and (Name)’s breath felt hot and heavy on his face. Leo can lean forward just a few inches, and they’ll kiss.
“And you’re sure Raph won’t mind?”
“I’m sure.” Leo retorts, wrapping his arms around (Name)’s neck. “Why?”
(Name) shrugs as he wraps his hands around Leo’s waist. “Dunno. I just…I think Raph would-” Their noses pressed together, (Name)’s breath feels hot and heavy on his face. Leo can lean forward just a few inches, and they’ll kiss. So he does that, shutting his eyes. “… want you to wake up. ”
The sentence causes his fingers to grip the soft fabric of the sweater tighter. Leo’s head jerks back. “Uh…what?”
(Name) He doesn’t say anything to him, but he feels their body become colder and their breathing slower. Leo stumbles back, staring at (Name) with wide eyes. “What did you just say?”
But (Name) says nothing. The room around Leo becomes blurry. He reaches an arm out, he reaches towards (Name), but (Name) just fizzles and cracks as if they’re on a broken TV.
The image
snaps.
Or it feels like it does. He isn’t sure how to describe it. What was he doing again?
Leo can smell the Chorizo and sweet corn from the living room.
—
: “Taken by Big Mama?” : Donatello shouts over the comm link while Michelangelo scrambles to light the candles again. : “How? When?” :
“I don’t know. Probably while I was meditating and trying to find Leo.” Michelangelo replies as he draws the circle of chalk yet again.
: “Bring me to you.” : Donatello says.
Michelangelo pauses for a moment, looking down at his shaking hand. The lower parts of his eyes crinkle upwards, and he shuts them tightly. He turns to the portal in the closet door, extending a handout. His fingers twitch as the image changes, the portal itself becoming bigger. He feels a rush of cool air and turns to the portal.
He sees Donatello standing there, wearing a duffle bag, and his arms are crossed. The purple-clad turtle steps cautiously into the room.
“I…thought you said you were…close,” Michelangelo says, forcing a smile while his eyes droop shut. He bows his shoulders, squeezing his eyes shut and shaking his head.
“I was close,” Donatello replies quickly. “Have you not slept?”
Michelangelo nods his head, stretching his fingers and rolling his shoulders. “I stretched.”
Donatello frowns and crosses his arms, raising an eyebrow. “Unconvinced-”
“Okay, I didn’t sleep well, but I did sleep,” Michelangelo replies, waving his arms in front of him. “Did you find Leo?”
Donatello nods. “Yes, I did. There are many advantages that technology still has over the mystic arts.”
“You use the mystic arts to power your technology-”
“Ah, ta ta!” Donatello waves his hand in front of Michelangelo’s face, vaguely gesturing towards the bed within the small bedroom. “Sit down. You’re wearing yourself out, and we need you to create those portals.”
Michelangelo doesn’t move at first, but then Donatello reopens his mouth. So he sits cross-legged on the bed.
“Frowny face.” Donatello blurts out, sitting on the floor and reaching into his duffle bag.
Michelangelo rolls his eyes and lays on the bed, putting his hands on his chest. “Where’s Leo?”
Donatello says nothing at first, seeming to be still fishing through his duffle bag. “According to the subcutaneous tracking device I’ve placed on him-”
“Subcu- what now -”
“A tracking device inserted into the tissue of the skin,” He clears his throat. “He’s in the lower levels of the hotel.”
“Wait! Like the Arena? But I couldn’t find him there!” Michelangelo exclaims as he sits up in the bed.
“Easy, Mikey, easy,” Donatello says, making a downward motion with his hands. “He’s not in the arena ,” He turns back to display on his forearm, connecting a few wires to the bigger display tablet he had taken out of his duffle bag. “It seems that April and Draxum are on the move; from their speed, I suppose they’re trying to get to the surface, but Leo…” Donatello scoffs. “He’s staying in one place.”
“Donnie, where is Leo .”
“Lower levels,” Donatello replies, putting the screen back into the duffle bag before slinging it over his shoulder. “Most likely below the Arena, a basement most likely.”
“But why-” Michelangelo grunts when he sits up from the bed, biting back a yawn. “Would they have him in there?”
Donatello says nothing. “Shrug. I haven’t the slightest idea, but I do not like the implications of it.” He moves towards the closet door again but then leaves the bedroom. “Stay here, Mikey.”
“wh– Donnie -!”
“No.” Donatello jabs a finger at the floor. “In any normal circumstance, I’d just give you Leo’s coordinates, and we’d portal there and out. But you have gotten barely any rest; not only that, but you’re still recovering from when we were attacked by the Kraang 2 weeks ago. If we wish to leave the Hidden City, you must portal us out.”
Michelangelo says nothing; he narrows his gaze. “Where should I go then?”
“Back through the portal, you made for me. Just wait for my call.”
Michelangelo stands, heading towards the closet. He opens it, staring into it. “Don-”
He cuts himself off, hearing the door to the hotel room click shut. He frowned at this and went to step through the portal. He then pauses momentarily, turning down to where the duffle bag used to be. He tilts his head when he sees the comm link lying there. He quickly puts it on his head and onto his ear. But he doesn’t step through the portal. Instead, he starts to head towards the door to the hotel room.
—
You’re dreaming; this assumption is based purely on your cleanliness. The T-shirt you’re wearing is completely white, with no stains whatsoever. You’re in boxer briefs as well, and they’re comfortable. Everything feels soft and airy.
You lift your head from the cool pillow, looking around through half-lidded eyes as the sound of the city roars in the background. For a moment, just a brief moment, you think that the apocalypse was just a dream. An elaborate, vivid dream. You’re at home. You’re safe and warm, and your mother is making breakfast downstairs. But you hear the coo and the whimper. Also, a sneeze, and you look down.
You see Casey above the blankets and inside a fluffy white blanket. He’s clean. The cleanest you’ve ever seen him is not a singular spec of dirt on his face or body.
You slowly sit up, laying on your stomach while leaning on your elbows. You look around the room, and it's then that you realize where you are. You’re at the hotel. You’re clean because you took a warm shower without feeling like you need to rush or waste water. You’re in new clothes because some butler came and stole your dirty ones. You sit up, rubbing at your eyelids and yawning. Casey seems to do the same, almost mimicking you in a way.
You swing your legs over the side of the bed, almost weeping in despair at having to get up. But you do have to move. You have to get out of this hotel room somehow. You don’t have your commlink or your weapons. It makes your fingers twitch not to have your shotgun nearby, but simultaneously,… it's nice not to have it. The feeling of the hotel room makes your heart swell with nostalgia and longing. Longing for things to be just like this all the time. To wake up in a soft bed, to be clean and safe. Most people want that, whether or not the apocalypse was happening outside their window.
You shake your head, going to grab Casey, when a knock comes on the door. They don’t even wait for you to answer before the person arrives. They’re holding your clothing, and you stare at them with a neutral expression. The non-human butler averts their gaze, placing your clothing on the dresser and quickly moving towards the door.
“Big Mama would…like to speak with you in her office…after you change.”
You don’t even get a chance to respond before they slam the door shut. You turn down the clothing and fish through it, grimacing when you can’t find your commlink. You’re almost sure you had it connected to your clothes, but you suppose you passed out after showering. You aren’t sure if it was because of the shower itself, the safety of the city, or some magic bullshit.
You put the clothing on regardless, avoiding the large mirror in front of the (presumably) empty dresser. You turn to Casey, picking Casey up. He’s still wearing that muddy t-shirt and pants. But you look down at the dresser. You tilt your head upon seeing more clothing items there. Frankly, you’d recognize a romper anywhere. But you grimace at it regardless; the fabric is too loose, too thin. You don’t want him to be cold..but he needs fresh clothing. So you change him, leaving the t-shirt behind but keeping the socks, jacket, and pants on him. Casey doesn’t seem to mind when you do this, giggling and kicking his feet. Soon, he goes silent as you leave the room, coming face to face with that same non-human butler from earlier.
The walk down the hallway is silent, not that you expected it to be anything but quiet. You’re not one for small talk. You can do small talk, but you’d prefer not to.
You eventually end up at Big Mama’s office, and the butler opens the door for you.
Big Mama freezes at her desk, dipping what appears to be a crumpet into a teacup. She smiles at you widely while her hand rests on her cheek. “My my, you clean up good, scrumptious.”
You don’t say anything; you stand at the other end of the room while the door shuts behind you. You keep a tight grip on Casey.
“Sweets, I do not bite.” Big Mama says with a chuckle. “Come sit; I believe we have much to discuss.”
You don’t get a word in before the two guards at the door push you forward. They grab your shoulders and sit you down on the couch. You look at the bottle on the counter and immediately take it. You inspect it for a moment. You ignore the pancakes and fruit, as well as water in front of you. You shake the bottle onto your wrist and find it satisfactory. You sniff the milk on your arm as well.
“You do not think I’d stoop so low to poison a baby, do you?” Big Mama asks.
You look up at her and shrug. “No. But…I learned not to trust anyone while I lived on the surface,” You reply, soon giving the bottle to Casey. He drinks it happily. “Especially those this…hospital. I’m sorry. I know you don’t have any bad intentions.”
You almost wince at the last sentence. It's one of the fattest lies you’ve said in your life. Other than the usual, ‘I’m fine. I’m just tired’.
Big Mama doesn’t seem affected by this. She almost seems to be…thinking. She stares down at her teacup, twirling whatever is in it with a small silver spoon. “I do hope you are not lying to me,” She muses. “I have already begun to not trust the words from your mouth.”
You tilt your head, faeying ignorance. “What?”
Big Mama places the spoon on her desk, almost too harshly for your tastes. “You had weapons with you, as well as a comm link. You were a part of an organization.”
Your shoulder tense, and you swallow thickly. “I was…am.”
“You are a part of the Hamato Resistance.”
The sentence itself doesn’t come as a shock to you. It would’ve been better if you never lied in the first place. You suppose Big Mama senses your regret as she tilts her head and chuckles, interlocking her fingers together. “I am not as naive as you may think I am, dearie.” She said. “But I am still extending my offer. You will not need those…silly devices if you stay in the Hidden City.”
You narrow your gaze. “What about all the other people on the surface? Don’t they also deserve to live in peace, far from the Kraang?” You shake your head. “You can’t just… abandon them.”
“I am doing what is best for my people,” Big Mama says, and you can almost hear the malice that begins to settle inside it. “I am doing what is best for my people.”The Hidden City is already dealing with overpopulation; our resources are far too thin. We cannot let every single person into the city.”
She sighs, standing from her desk. “If you return to the surface, you will die, (Name). So will the little one.”
You grumble, grip on Casey tightening. You don’t say anything else, however. There’s no point. Again, you most likely shouldn’t have lied to her.
Big Mama shakes her head, rubbing at her temple as she moves away from her desk, a hand on her hip. “I must admit, you were rather convincing initially, but..” She smiles. “I am afraid you cannot trick a trickster .”
There’s no point in lying anymore; you stand up from the couch, brow furrowed. “You-”
The two guards shove themselves next to you, and you freeze. The bottle is still in hand. The bottle was empty, and that’s when one of the guards took it, delicately placing it on the table.
Big Mama starts to walk, her heels clicking against the tile floor as she places her hands behind her back. “Walk with me, (Name)?”
You open your mouth to say no, but a guard grabs your shoulder, shoving you beside her.
The doors to her office are opened, and you’re led into a long hallway.
“I am aware that Casey is not your son,” She says, walking along the dimly lit hallway. “Biologically at least. He is a member of the Hamato family, and as far as I am concerned, you…are not.”
You furrow your brow. “So why keep me around? You could’ve just gotten rid of me if I’m that unimportant.”
Big Mama chuckles. “I almost did, but…it seems that one of those… turtely-boos cares for you, almost like a lovestruck teenager.”
You tilt your head at this, almost wanting to ask who, but then it hits you. “What did you do with Leo?!” You shout, almost lunging forward.
The two guards jump on you first, Casey being taken from your arms in one fell swoop. He shrieks as your hands are forced behind your back. You struggle against this, of course, kicking and writhing about as you grunt.
“I assure you he is quite safe.” Big Mama replies, tilting her head while she stops walking. “I just needed something from him before I allowed your friend's safe passage and metal.”
“Like what?”
“His mystic energy,” Big Mama chuckles. “I said that he would fight in my Arena, but I never said if this arena was made from his mind or in the physical world.”
“Why do you need his mystic powers?” You retort, moving yourself forward slightly. “You can’t take that from him-”
“Yes, yes, I know that taking his abilities is fatal,” Big Mama shakes her head. “You know nothing of mystic energy, do you? Or anything about the mystic energy of the Hamato Clan. ” She sighs. “Their energy is powerful, potent. I am only borrowing some of it, after all. I need enough to close all of the gates to the Hidden City; afterward, I’ll let him go.”
“Are you kidding me ?” You shout. “There are so many things in this city that you could use to help people! There’s clean water, food, shelter. We’re living in caves and abandoned buildings up there-”
You grit your teeth while a crying Casey is handed to Big Mama; she looks around, fishing through her pockets. Your eyes widen upon seeing this, the struggle you had begun only enduring further.
Big Mama pulls out the dog tags, her thumb tracing over the letters as she looks at Casey thoughtfully. She sighs. “I could have sworn I recognized those eyes. This is Cassandra’s child.”
You stop struggling in that moment, tilting your head. “How do you know Cassandra?” You don’t know her either, frankly, but no, you’re curious. She said the phrase almost as if she was feeling solemn, guilty of something.
“When the Kraang first came here…” Big Mama starts as the guards begin to haul you off somewhere. “A woman named Cassandra Jones came here, looking for something to use to…destroy a portal key. I had her fight in my arena, of course,” Big Mama chuckles. “She became my champion and took this…device to destroy the key. I cannot recall what its name was, however..” She shakes her head.
“Yeah? Well, that device didn’t work,” You start, grunting when a guard shoves you forward. “Raphael destroyed it instead.
Big Mama shakes her head. “Impossible. I have heard of this…key. He would have died if he did that.”
You’re silent at first, and so is Big Mama.
“He did die…didn’t he?” Big Mama asked.
You slowly nod your head. You’re shoved into an elevator, the silence engulfing the area. When the elevator opens again, you’re in an even darker hallway. Before you know it, you’re shoved into what appears to be a cell, the door slamming shut in front of you.
“And what of Lou Jitsu?” Big Mama asks while handing Casey off to one of the guards.
“Who the hell is that?”
She seems to growl at this. “ Splinter . The Hamato boy’s father, what of him?”
You narrow your gaze. “He’s gone too.”
Big Mama’s eyes widened, lips parting slightly as she stared into the distance. She then sighs. “Is that so..?”
“Yeah, it is.”
Big Mama sighs again. “Hm. A shame.”
You don’t say anything as she starts to walk away. Your eyes then widen as the guard with Casey begins to follow her. You reach a hand between the bars, stretching your fingers. “Wait, wait! Casey-!”
“Oh, relax, dear.” Big Mama says. “He will be safe. I…doubt that he will even remember you after all.” She sighs. “I will return him to Leo when he has fulfilled his end of the bargain, as for you…well…we’ll just have to see if he’s willing to risk capture by coming for you.” She snickers. “Leonardo would be a good replacement as my champion after all.”
—
The basement of the Nexus Hotel smells of mildew and smoke. Donatello is thankful he’s wearing boots; otherwise, his feet would’ve been littered with strange liquids. He almost feels like gagging just thinking about it. He can hear the conversation in the exact room he’s heading to. He quickly ducks inside, hiding behind what sounds like a console. The various hums of the device fill his ears while he pokes his head over.
“Big Mama, we are… trying to pull the mystic energy out of the Hamato, but…I don’t think it's working.” One yokai says, gesturing above them.
Donatello looks up, eyes widening at the sizeable golden bubble ahead. Various wires and screws are bolted to the sides as he sees Leonardo within the center of it. The form doesn’t move much, only twitching periodically within the yellow liquid. He sees a mask shoved onto his mouth, his lips slightly parted. He appears to be breathing still, which is a good sign, but his eyes are shut. He almost looks like he’s…sleeping.
Big Mama just shakes her head at this. “Then try harder.” She seems to growl. “The Kraang are moving closer and closer to our location daily. Tear it from his very being if you have to; I will not allow my people to fall to the Kraang.”
Donatello ducks behind the console when he hears someone walk into the room. He listens still, however.
“But what of the others? His…brothers…they’ll come for him, right?” A higher-pitched voice asks.
“They already have.” Big Mama replies. “I sensed the other two entering my city not too long ago. Once you find them, bring them here and begin the same process.”
There are a few moments after this sentence. “And what should we do if they survive the extraction?”
“Put them in the arena, of course.” Big Mama says.
He hears the shuffling of feet, papers, and a door opening and closing. Donatello doesn’t even wait. It's easy to remove the lights and knock all the guards unconscious. The yokai, who seem to be scientists, possibly even doctors, are the easiest.
He puts his goggles on, looking around the dark room. He uses his jetpack and flies up to the top of the bubble, pulling on the trap door. He reaches into the liquid, ignoring the precise electrical charge that engulfs his arm and pulls Leonardo out. One of the consoles blares a warning sign, and he turns to the bright screen below. His eyes widen upon seeing the various red lights and warning symbols displayed on it.
The device below him shakes, and he hears the gears turning. The wires on the bubble snap, and Donatello watches Leonardo fall.