Chapter Text
Six figures stumbled down the underground tunnel. They were covered in dust, blood, and a silence far too heavy to be normal. The lair was close, but not close enough.
Raph was panting as he carried Leo in his arms.
“Leo’s getting worse! Hurry!” he shouted, not slowing down.
Leo’s eyes were half-lidded. He hadn’t cracked a joke in minutes. His breathing was weak, barely there. Raph clenched his jaw. The blurred vision in his injured eye made every step harder, but he didn’t let up.
Mikey was trembling, his voice shattered.
“This… this can’t be happening. Not after we saved him…”
“Medical bay! Now!” April ordered, rushing ahead.
“Do you have trauma gear? Monitors, respirator, anything?” Casey asked quickly, scanning their surroundings.
“Upstairs. In the med bay,” Donnie answered, quickening his pace despite how hard it was to breathe. “S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N., Red Protocol.”
A firm digital voice responded:
“Protocol activated. Preparing surgical table and vital scan.”
The doors to the medical bay slid open. Bright white lights flared on, and an automated stretcher descended from the ceiling with a precise hum. Casey stared, wide-eyed.
“That robot’s real?”
“Very real,” Donnie replied flatly. “And very useful. I built him.”
Raph gently placed Leo on the stretcher. His hands were shaking as he let go. He stayed right there beside him, unmoving.
“Come on, little bro… don’t you dare give up,” he whispered.
S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. began scanning.
“Multiple fractures. Abdominal trauma. Active internal bleeding. Initiating automated stabilization.”
Casey, instincts kicking in, jumped in to assist with the emergency procedures.
Mikey covered his face with his injured hands.
“This can’t be real… We saved him, didn’t we? He was supposed to be safe now…”
Then Splinter appeared, silent as ever. His deep voice cut through the air:
“He fought for all of you today. He saved us. Now we must fight for him.”
He placed a firm hand on Mikey’s shoulder. When he noticed the deep wounds in his arms—almost like cracks—his gaze turned concerned.
“Let me see that, son. Your arms look bad.”
“They hurt…” Mikey murmured, sinking into a chair. “It was from opening the portal. So Leo could come back…”
April crouched beside him.
“You did it. Now it’s time to heal.”
She turned toward Donnie.
“Donnie, help us with...” She stopped. Donnie was standing in a corner, completely still, eyes locked on the monitor.
“Donnie!” she called again, louder.
He snapped out of it.
“I’m fine. I need to stay here. In case Leo needs me. That’s all that matters.”
S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. reported:
“Stabilization complete. Patient is critical, but stable.”
“That’s… something,” Casey exhaled.
Splinter frowned.
“But not enough.”
Donnie leaned subtly against the wall. His breathing was fast, shallow.
Mikey, now with his arms bandaged, noticed a small pool of blood not far from him. He frowned, alarmed.
“Donnie… are you…?”
“It’s nothing,” Donnie replied reflexively.
“April! Donnie’s bleeding!” Mikey cried in panic.
April rushed over with Mikey. They forced Donnie to sit down. They pulled away part of the battle shell. Deep wounds, almost like punctures, were bleeding steadily.
Splinter approached with a voice firm but calm.
“No more secrets, Donatello.”
“I didn’t think it was that bad…” Donnie murmured, eyes down. “I was more worried about Leo.”
“We’re going to be okay. All of us,” Raph said from across the room. He paused. “But that means you have to be okay too. Got it?”
April glanced at him sideways.
“And you’re next. That eye can’t wait any longer.”
Then, from the stretcher, a weak voice broke the silence:
“Yeah, Raph… your eye looks… awful.”
Leo had barely opened his eyes. Raph let out a shaky laugh, full of relief and tears.
“Look who’s talking…” he whispered.
A nervous chuckle spread through the room, catching on between them all.
They were still covered in blood, battered, exhausted… but alive.
Splinter looked at them with wet eyes.
“My sons… are going to be alright.”