Archive of Our Own

His thoughts were fast. They were really, really really really fast.

He blinked, then blinked again, because his eyes felt weird and itchy and the lights were really bright- his vision blurred slightly, and a giddy laugh bubbled up in his throat. He wasn't even sure why. But- but it was fun! Everything was bright and blurry and fuzzy at the edges. But his vision was clearing, now, and- oh! Oh oh oh! Right!

There were still dinosaurs in the room! How had he forgotten about them? Loud rumbling noises filled the air around him, which slowly clicked in his head as words. He frowned. Were they talking to him, or...?

"It appears that he knows nothing, sir," one said. His voice was all scratchy and gruff, and Mikey had a passing thought that he might be sick, and that he should be resting instead of doing whatever it was that he was doing, when the other, bigger one spoke.

"Then he is useless," he sighed. Mikey blinked, swinging his legs off the weird chair he was in- and when had he even sat down?? He didn't remember that, didn't even remember how he got here. He felt like laughing again.

"Who?" he asked, grinning. Now that he'd moved, he realized that his legs felt all asleep and his arms were tingly, but he also wanted to move move move because there was just so much lightning in his chest- but not lightning, no, because lightning would hurt and this didn't hurt, but he did want to run and jump and- oh! The dinosaurs were looking at him!!

"Excuse me?" the first, nicer looking one asked- and Mikey decided that his voice was probably just like that. The other one's voice was even scratchier, so dinosaurs must all have scratchy voices (that, or they were both sick, and they really should go to bed). He laughed - he couldn't help it! - and jumped down from his chair, not even falling over when his legs wanted to give out, and he grinned wider.

"You're excused! But, who's useless?" Mikey asked again, stepping up to stand next to them. The dinosaurs were big, and- and wasn't there something bad, about them? Scary? They'd been fighting…? No. That would be weird, because they were being nice, and they looked so cool! He didn't think there would be a reason to fight them. "Is it him?" He whispered, pointing at another dinosaur.

"No," the scary one snapped. "It is you, earthling."

"Oh," Mikey blinked. Huh. No, because… hm. Was he? No, he didn't think so. That wasn't his name- oh!! Oh, no, because that wasn't a name, it was a- a- Dang, Donnie would be upset that he'd forgotten a word again. Or- would he be? Mikey couldn't really remember. Donnie liked big words and smart stuff, though, so he might be? But it wasn’t a name, it was a thing you were. "Sorry! I wasn't trying to be!"

At least, he didn't think he was trying to-

Oh!!! Mikey dashed over to a console full of blinking lights. They were flashing over and over, in so many different colors, and- and looking at them actually made him dizzy, and his head kinda hurt, but the dizzy feeling was fun in a twisty way, like he'd spun around in a dozen circles, and his head was pounding in a pattern that was enough to distract him from-

Someone grabbed him. He looked up, and the nicer looking dinosaur just picked him up and dropped him back on his chair. Mikey grinned, but the need to laugh had lessened. Instead, it felt like there was a rock in his stomach… It probably didn't matter. There wasn't actually a rock - he didn't think so at least, he couldn't remember swallowing any - so it wasn't really important.

"You're so strong!" he gasped, the dinosaur barely putting any effort into putting him back down. "Stronger than Raph- he’d be tired after carrying me. You could throw boulders!"

The mean one sighed. "As I was saying, since he knows nothing, we might as well-"

"What?" and the fun, spinny feeling in Mikey's head settled slightly, giving way to a steady ache. "I know things! Lot's of things!"

"Clearly not," the dinosaur snarled. "If you did, our machine-"

"Oh, yeah!!" Mikey said, gaze snapping to the weird ray machine. It had seemed scary at first, but it's light had tickled and it made him feel fast and weightless and good and- "Can we do that again?!"

"Sir," the nice one said, hesitating slightly, "he isn't responding to it like he should. It is possible that we simply cannot extract information from him. Even if he knew nothing of importance, it should have given us something. But, there's nothing."

The mean one growled. Suddenly, the sound felt a lot more scary than it did before. The lightning snapped, all jolts of fear and anxiety and- and a lot of stuff like that. There were so many words for fear, but he couldn’t remember them all right now. His skin felt too tight, the chair was cold and sharp and the air felt too heavy, tingly and prickly and even his own shell suddenly felt suffocating. Mikey swallowed, vision blurring again. It- it wasn't funny anymore. Something’s wrong.

"Tell me, earthling," the mean one said, and his voice was definitely scarier than before. "What do you know, then?"

"I-I-" why was everything so loud? The Triceraton's voice grated on his ears, which were ringing so much he was surprised he could hear anything else. This was all too cold and burning and sharp and hard and stinging and- "I know- I know lot's of things."

"What do you know of the Kraang?"

"Oh- I-" nothing was right, nothing, everything was wrong wrong wrong "-I know where they live- no, no, wait- I know where their bases are in Dimension X, and I know what they're planning? And- um, I-'' tears pricked at his eyes, and he hurriedly wiped them away. They burned his cheeks even then, the after trails marring his face. "I- can fight them-?'' Talking hurt. He knew that it shouldn't hurt but his throat was all scratchy and his thoughts were dragging, and- and he-

He scratched at one arm, trying to get the pressure building up in his veins to stop, to release, because his skin was too tight and his blood was boiling, but he was so cold and he had to get rid of this and maybe if he could get it out then- but- But it wasn't working. It still felt the same, the only difference was-

His arm stung. He looked down, breath catching at the sight of red beads rolling off his skin, welling from uneven gauges in his arms. Not, not beads, no, that was blood, it was his blood and-

Everything was too hot, too cold, too sharp, too bad, why was everything so bad? It was good before, right? He couldn't breathe. He just wanted to breathe-

"Sir," one of the Triceratons said, looking at a semi-transparent panel, "his heart rate has exceeded safe levels. If it continues to rise-"

"He mentioned their bases…" the general mused. "What effects did the machine have, exactly?"

"Uh," the Triceraton tapped at the screen. "It seems to have caused a state of euphoria, or simply calmed him into a-"

"Then do it again," the general commanded. Their voices were far away. Deep underwater and past smoke and-

"Sir, his current state appears to be a result of that- like a crash, or an attempted reset. Repeated use may-"

"Do it," the general snapped. "If he tells us what he knows, we'll have no further use for him. He was to be terminated along with his planet anyway."

"Y-yes, sir."

Mikey didn't understand- what were they- why did they-

The machine started lighting up. No, he wanted to say. He wanted to scream stop, turn it off, what are you doing, I don't want this- But another part of him said do it faster, I can't take this anymore-

The beam flared, scalding his eyes until he shut them tight. He took a breath, and the pressure in his chest lessened, the ache settling back into the background. And- and he couldn't help but laugh, because- because had it only been a moment ago that he felt like he would die? The thought shouldn't be funny, but it somehow was, and- the ache in his chest was back, now, because he just couldn't stop laughing.

He tasted copper. That was weird. Copper tasted weird too. Electric and metallic and warm and overpowering. He opened his eyes, and everything was too bright, way way way too bright- he couldn't see, but that was probably okay. It didn't hurt. Nothing hurt. Not his head or his lungs or his arm- why would his arm hurt? He wasn't sure… Well, it didn't matter, anyway, because it wasn’t.

Everything tilted sideways, and he laughed. Everything was all light and loopy and it's been a long time since he felt like laughing this much. It felt good. Warm and bright and everything was muted and soft, like there was a blanket all around him, and-

The light shut off. His vision blurred again, more than before, twisting a dozen shapes into one. Did they know they were doing that? They should stop. It was confusing.

One Trice- tri… tricer… One dinosaur, the big, mean looking one, stepped closer.

"Tell us what you know of the Kraang," he said. Mikey smiled.

"Oh! Right!" he said. "Did you know they talk really really weird? They always say things like- like, umm… I can't remember but they sound like robots! But they do have robots so that makes sense and-"

"Their bases, earthling."

"Bases? Oh! They have a lot of those- we've been to a lot of them. They live in Dimension X- and it's super cool there- but Donnie says it's confusing, and Raph hates it, and- Oh! Right! Uh, I dunno."

"So you don't actually know where they are located?"

"Not right now- but I'm really good at finding things! I always find the things I wanna find, but sometimes there are things I don't want with the thing I want- but I can find them for you, if you want- we can go now! We-"

Mikey blinked, gaze catching on the window set into the wall. Stars stared back at him.

"We're in space?!" he demanded, scrambling off the chair and rushing to the glass. "How long have we been in space?! Why didn't you say something? Does Donnie kno- Where is he anyway?"

His heart was really really fast. He could hear it in his ears and it was loud. Was it supposed to be that fast? He didn't think so… He swallowed, and his throat was all scratchy, and he still tasted copper, and- and the stars were blurring. Everything just looked so fuzzy. The room tilted.

"Sir, he's coming out of it," one Triceraton said. The general frowned as Mikey turned to look at them, leaning against the window for support.

"That quickly?"

"I believe the continued use of the machine will result in shorter euphoric effects, and worsened negative-"

"Then we must finish quickly," the general said. He stepped over to Mikey, towering over him, and Mikey flinched back. He had been fighting these people… they were trying to destroy the Earth, because the Kraang infested it. How did he ever forget something like- Mikey's head pounded, his arm stung- He tasted blood. It wasn't copper, it was- "You say you’ve fought the Kraang? You know their weaknesses?"

"I-I-" Mikey swallowed, trying to get his throat to loosen, and his lungs to expand, and his stomach to stop twisting. The cool window at his back felt like an iron searing through him, but he knew it was all that was keeping him standing. "Yes."

Because could he even try to lie? If he did, he was pretty sure it would fall apart, and- and it was hard enough to think of the truth right now, he couldn’t- His skin was tight and itchy, and it was too hot and too cold and he couldn't breathe and- and the general grabbed him - his grip was burning and it hurt and Mikey wanted out out out out - easily lifting him up and placing him back on the chair and- no no no no, not again, stop it but at the same time it was yes yes yes yes, please, because he wanted to breathe he needed to be able to breathe and think and-

The beam activated again.

His panic eased.

And he just couldn't help but laugh.

There were more questions. Always, always more- he didn't want to answer, he wanted to look at the stars and press the glowy buttons on the console and he was pretty sure Leo and Donnie would love the ship and the tech and space but Raph probably wouldn't, and where were they anyway? They were missing out.

But the dinosaurs always had more questions, and he was getting more and more sure that he wasn't actually supposed to answer, but he just couldn't remember why, and- Oh! Right.

How many Kraang were in a standard Kraang facility in Dimension X? The words were big, he wasn't really sure he understood them, really, and the number was really big, but he couldn't remember it exactly right now because everything was really really really fast and hard to catch and-

He really wanted to get off the chair and press those buttons, or call his brothers, get help- or- no, because he didn't need help? But he couldn't get off the chair because the dinosaurs said he couldn't, but that if he answered all the questions than they would let him press all the buttons and-

Right. Kraang. Uhm-

"Three hundred if it's small? Like an outpost? More if it's big! And less if it's on Earth, even if it's big?" he said. Maybe if he gave really really good answers, they would have less questions. The dinosaurs wrote it down, and gave him the next question.

Fire raced through his head and heart and stomach- he was pretty sure he was going to throw up if his stomach didn't stop twisting- his arms were burning, but the Triceratons had restrained his hands, but he needed to make the burning stop- but he always just made it worse but that blood couldn't really be his because he couldn't feel the cuts he just felt the burning and the air was thick and hot and his throat was aching-

He needed help, needed his brothers, they'd save him save him save him save him-

But they weren't here, and why would they be- But he needed them so they could take whatever weight was on his chest away so he could breathe again, and his eyes were burning, and wasn't it brighter in here before? But everything looked fuzzy and blurred and dim and-

The scientist stepped to their machine- and yes yes yes, please turn it on, please go faster, yes yes yes yes, he needed it-

The beam activated.

He could only smile, even as copper filled his mouth and a wave tore through his mind.

He was crying? And his heart was pounding. Why? He was okay- he thought so, at least, but he kept being not okay but that was fine because the dinosaurs always fixed it!

They said something about this being the thirtieth time? That was a lot. But they were still here! They still fixed it when he felt bad and that was good, but they still asked about the Kraang, and it was getting harder and harder to talk. If he thought too much then he felt bad again- but that would be okay, as long as the dinosaurs were here. They would fix him, like always. Still… Thinking and talking were getting harder and harder, and he wasn't really sure why, because he should be okay.

He was still crying. He did his best to answer anyway. It was the least he could do, really. They were helping him, after all.

They fell onto the ship, the teleporter in Donnie's hands lighting up for just a moment before it shut off again. He took a calming breath, hands still trembling from the stress of trying to fly through one: space, and two: a horde of enemy ships firing at them with the intent to blow them up.

Leo grabbed his shoulder and dragged him behind a console, and Donnie had just enough time to realize that oh right, they're on the Triceraton's ship, and there will likely be someone in the room, before a deep, gravely voice filled the air.

"Any signs of life?"

There was a pause, and then another voice responded. "No, sir."

"Good," the one who'd spoken first said. "Bothersome creatures. If there are no other problems, I will be returning to the interrogation chamber."

"That's probably where Mikey is," Donnie whispered. He glanced back at the others, and Raph glared at him, pointing at the teleporter in Donnie's hands.

"We could have used this to get in here the whole time?" he hissed. Donnie shrugged.

"There was only enough charge for one teleport if all of us used it," he said. "I would have preferred to use it to get home."

Raph frowned, but said nothing. Leo peered out around their hiding place. He narrowed his eyes, before giving a short wave and creeping out into the more open area of the room. Donnie and Raph followed, sneaking behind three Triceratons currently working on something on their computers - which Donnie really wanted to mess around with and figure out (because this was alien technology and who even knew all the things that he could learn from it-), but this wasn't the time - and into the thankfully empty hallway.

Heavy, echoing footsteps sounded around the corner of one hall, and they followed. The ship was large and maze like - and why couldn't any of their enemies ever have a simple floor layout for once? - but after only about a minute, they got to the interrogation chamber. It had no doors, though why that was Donnie couldn't fathom, so they could see into it from the doorway.

There were four different halls connected to the room, each leading off to some unknown,
unimportant location. Unimportant, because Mikey was here.

Ten Triceratons filled the space, several looking to be guards, two examining glowing screens that Donnie couldn't quite make out from here. One was obviously the leader - scarred and proud, the largest of them and standing tall as the others bowed their heads - and another stood at his side- A second in command? The interrogator, perhaps?

But all that paled in comparison to the sight at the center of the room. A large chair sat built into the floor, almost resembling something you'd find in a dentist's office. Mikey was strapped onto it, several bands holding down his arms and legs. Oddly, what seemed to be a large pillow had been put behind Mikey's head. He wasn't looking in their direction, instead staring out at the window set into one wall, head tilted so they couldn’t see his face. A large machine was placed in front of him, almost like a laser from a cheesy action movie. The barrel of the device was pointed at Mikey’s head and slowly powering up, the glowing marks on its side lighting up one by one.

Donnie narrowed his eyes, trying to piece together just what it did and how to stop it, when Raph shifted, tensing up as if to rush forwards.

"His hands," he whispered. Donnie blinked, wondering just which person Raph was talking about, before he spotted it. His blood ran cold.

Mikey's nails were stained red, blood drying over his fingers. Donnie's eyes widened as he spotted the long, red cuts in his arms, jagged and uneven, placed alongside small red points. Like… like Mikey had torn them up himself, had dug his nails in and hadn't stopped. If that was true, then the Triceratons had only restrained his hands afterwards, and Donnie wasn't sure if he felt more relieved that they'd stopped him from doing it again, or furious that they'd somehow caused it in the first place.

Mikey's head tilted towards where they hid, eyes lighting up when he saw the Triceraton commander. Why? Why did Mikey seem happy to see that the commander had returned? One of the aliens, one of the ones holding a glowing tablet, looked up.

"Sir," he said, "the effects are already wearing off."

"How long has it been?"

"About two minutes, sir."

Mikey frowned, tilting his head. His eyes were red and puffy, his mask damp with tears, but he didn't look sad. He just looked… confused.

"Is that bad?" he asked. The commander shook his head.

"We only have one more question," he said. "It will last long enough."

Donnie gritted his teeth, resisting the urge to curse (though he was sure it was an acceptable time to do so, it wouldn’t gain him anything). What were they doing? What did that machine do?

Leo snapped softly, getting their attention.

"Raph, you need to cause a distraction," he said. "Set off an explosion or something somewhere in the ship. Hopefully, that'll get some of them to leave. Donnie, you'll disable that machine if necessary, figure out what they did, and get Mikey out of here. I'll cover you."

Raph looked like he wanted to refuse, before nodding stiffly. Before he could move to leave, though, Mikey slammed his head back into the chair. Donnie jumped, looking back to the room. The pillow had served its purpose, but the loud thump attested to the force that Mikey put into it. Was he trying to give himself a concussion?

Donnie’s confusion and annoyance at that thought fizzled away into horror, and he froze at the scene before him. In the few, short moments that they'd looked away, everything about Mikey's demeanor had changed. Tears were streaming down his face, he was straining against the bindings on his arms, and his breath came in ragged, quick gasps. He slammed his head back again, eyes shut tight, teeth clenched. Raph ran down the hall, and Donnie took some pleasure in knowing that whatever Raph destroyed was going to be important.

Mikey was saying something, but the sounds were high pitched and tinny, and Donnie was pretty sure only half of every word was actually being said.

The Triceraton standing closest to the machine flipped a switch, and it fired. Donnie tensed, barely holding himself back from rushing in. The beam cut out after a few, agonizing seconds. Mikey stared ahead, wide eyed and shivering (and Donnie had only a passing thought about the damage long term exposure to that light could do to your eyes, because that wasn’t important right now-). Tears that the dampened fabric of Mikey’s mask couldn't catch rolled down his cheeks as he stared blankly. He blinked once, twice, and then smiled shakily up at the Triceraton that had activated the machine.

"Thanks," he said, voice slightly hoarse. Donnie hoped Raph would think to blow up more than one thing on this blasted ship. What did that device do?

"Do you remember the question?" The general asked. Mikey tilted his head, before smiling wider.

"Yeah!" he chirped. "It’s fifteen. Was that all the answers? Can I get off the chair now? I want-"

"I know," the Triceraton interrupted. "You-"

An explosion boomed through the halls- luckily coming from one of the other three, and not the one they were still crouched in. How had Donnie and Leo forgotten to move? They were lucky Raph circled around… Another boom followed, the ground vibrating with the force of the blast.

"Troops! Move out!" all but two Triceraton rushed down the hall. Great… just one of these things was hard to deal with…

"What happened?!" Mikey asked the nearest one, eyes wide with… wonder? "Can I see it? We should go! Do you wanna see? Cause I do! Can I get off the chair now? I feel good now, and I answ-"

"You can't leave until the commander allows it," the Triceraton - one of the ones with a tablet, the other having followed the rest of the group - said. "Can you be quiet?"

"Probably!" Mikey chirped. He sniffled though, then coughed, flecks of blood staining his lips and dripping from his nose. He blinked, face scrunching in confusion. "Why… why pennies?"

"...Pardon?"

"Why does… Why does the air taste like- like pennies?" Mikey asked, fumbling for words. They couldn't wait and hope for these two to leave, Donnie decided. They needed to get Mikey out of here now. Another explosion rattled the ground, and Donnie jumped out of hiding. Leo dashed out at nearly the same time, so either he’d been ready to follow Donnie, or he’d gotten sick of waiting too.

What happened next was a blur.

Using the split second of surprise from the Triceratons to his advantage, Donnie lunged at the nearest one and tore the teleporter from his belt. He dove under the aliens arm as he swiped at him, feeling the air rush past him as he only narrowly avoided his claws. He glanced at the device in his hands and grinned at the full charge shown in glowing symbols on the side. He couldn't beat one of these aliens in a fair fight, true, but no-one said it had to be fair.

He latched onto the Triceraton's arm, and activated the device. There was a rush of air, and needles picked him apart piece by piece until he was nothing- before he found himself on solid ground, the very air seeming to protest his sudden appearance. New York blinked at him with its thousand lights, even at midnight, even during an invasion, and then he jumped back from the Triceratons claws as it attacked and activated the teleporter again, leaving it behind.

When he appeared back on the ship, Leo was rushing over to Mikey's side, and the other Triceraton was nowhere in sight. Donnie didn't really care what Leo had done with them, he just pocketed the teleporter and ran to his brothers.

Mikey was staring at the window again, tears steadily dripping down his face, though he looked far too calm to be crying. His eyes were red and glassy, and now that they were closer Donnie could see that his pupils had nearly enveloped his iris, just the barest slivers of blue still visible ringing around the black. That- that really didn't seem like a good thing…

Slowly, Mikey blinked, tears still falling and blood slowly trailing from his nose, but he gave no sign of noticing, even as the tears dripped off his chin. He didn’t seem to hear Donnie or Leo as they approached, though their steps were far louder than any ninja’s should be.

"Mikey," Donnie said urgently, reaching out as he stopped at his brother's side- but he didn't actually touch Mikey, his hand just froze in the air, because he didn't know what was wrong and he didn't know what would make it worse, "are you okay?"

Mikey paused, then his head snapped up to face Donnie fast enough that Donnie could hear his neck popping. He was grinning brightly despite the fact that he was crying. "Donnie! Finally- you need to look outside!"

Donnie glanced back at the window, but there was nothing alarming there. "And why is that?" he asked. Keeping Mikey talking should be good- it usually was.

"We're in space, Dee!" Mikey said, excitement ringing clear in his voice. "Space! With stars and aliens and- Leo!" he chirped, finally taking notice of Leo standing beside Donnie. "It's just like in Space Heroes. Do you like it? I do! It's cool and dark and light- the dino said I could go out there if I answered all the questions- are there any more of those? That was all, right? I forgot, and he left- where did he go, anyway? I want-"

"Mikey," Leo said, tugging at the restraints holding Mikey's arms. Donnie picked up a tablet from the floor, dropped by the Triceraton he’d left stranded, a constant, jumping line drawing his attention. "We need you to calm down. Okay?"

"'Kay!" he chirped. Donnie eyed the screen and- and was that Mikey's heartbeat, displayed on its face? Donnie grabbed Mikey's wrist, careful to avoid any of the irritated and torn skin, and- sure enough, his pulse was- was way too fast. What did they do to him?

"Okay, Mikey," Donnie said, helping Leo with the last of the restraints. "I need you to tell me how you're feeling, and what the Triceratons were doing. Can you do that?"

"Oh- they've been helping!" Mikey grinned brightly. "They're really nice- did you see where they went, I-"

"Mikey, focus," Donnie said. Mikey slid off the chair as the last of the restraints fell away, wobbling on his feet.

"Hm? Oh!" Mikey frowned, bringing a hand to his face and wiping some of the blood beneath his nose away. He frowned down at his stained fingers. "Again...? Well, anyway! The Tri… tric… the dinosaurs help! I- they keep me from getting bad."

"Bad how?" Leo asked. Mikey glanced away.

"Really bad," he murmured, before brightening again. "But it's fine! They always make me stop feeling bad right after, and they said I could press all the buttons- but they wanna know about the Kraang first and that's-"

Raph skidded into the room, dashing over to them. "We gotta go now. The Triceratons are heading back here."

"Go?" Mikey echoed. "Go where? Why?"

"Home," Raph said incredulously, before pausing, taking in Mikey’s appearance- which easily reflected that something was wrong. He glanced at Donnie, a bit uncertain. "What- what's wrong with him, Don?"

"I don't know yet," he said, tucking the tablet into his belt.

"Nothing! Nothing’s wrong!" Mikey insisted. Raph frowned, reaching out to flick the side of his forehead. Mikey didn't seem to even notice.

The sound of footsteps began to thunder down the hall, and Leo muttered something that sounded suspiciously like a curse. (Not that it wasn’t a bad time for such things…)

"We'll have to wait to solve it until we get home," Leo said. "Donnie, how's that teleporter holding up?"

Donnie glanced down at the diminished lights of the device. "It should be enough to get us all home."

"Good," he said. "Then use it!"

And so he did.

Leo was struggling to align the past few hours in his head.

First they meet a good Kraang (or, Utrom? He wasn't very clear on the difference, but it seemed like there was one), then they fight against Kraang Prime and evil dinosaur aliens bent on using a black hole to destroy the Earth because of said Kraang. And then Mikey gets captured by the Triceraton general (and Leo was struggling to figure out if he was more angry at the aliens for taking him, or at Mikey for getting taken- and he knew that that wasn't fair, but he just couldn't help it, but on top of his anger he was afraid- because if that was how easy it was to lose a piece of their family again then-). Then they were flying to the Triceraton mothership in their only remaining Kraang stealth ship - and he really had to wonder how on Earth Mikey's ship was the only one that had stayed intact, when even Donnie's had crashed and burned - and then…

He had been hoping - foolishly hoping, because apparently he hadn't learned his lesson yet - that when they found Mikey, he'd just be waiting for rescue, or, perhaps, escaping on his own. Instead he was… well, Leo wasn't even sure what was wrong with him.

He was just… unfocused. His gaze and thoughts jumped from place to place to place, never quite settling or even just staying still for anything longer than a single, wavering moment. His gaze was vacant. His words made even less sense than they usually did.

He was overly bright and cheerful, even though he was on an enemy ship, surrounded by aliens, during an invasion and- and yes, Mikey probably would be bright and cheery in this situation normally, because for whatever reason, he always managed to ignore the important things and have jokes and smiles and maybe that really did help them all keep above panic but it was also a problem- but that didn't matter right now. This wasn't optimism. It wasn't even naivety.

This was a complete and utter unawareness. It was like the Triceratons had taken what little focus and seriousness Mikey possessed and tore it from him, leaving only (pun not completely unintended) a shell of Leo's little brother behind. He was normal enough, on the outside, but his mind had been hollowed out. What was left behind was simply an ever-smiling, excitable, distractible, loopy shell that- that was coughing up blood. He hoped that came from the bloody nose, somehow, and not- not something worse.

"Teleportation has no right to feel that awful," Raph grumbled as they landed on an abandoned rooftop. Leo had to agree - the pins and needles feeling of being torn apart and rebuilt was not a pleasant one - but he didn't respond. He didn't check up on Mikey either, no matter how much he wanted to, because- Well. Donnie would take care of it (and Leo wasn't sure if he'd be more of a help or hindrance until he could get his head screwed on right.)

Instead, ignoring Raph as he darted past him over to the others, he pulled out his T-Phone and called April, walking to the edge of the roof they were on to look over the city- and wherever they were, it was apparently far enough from the Triceratons main force that Leo couldn't see it. His skin crawled, stomach writhing in discomfort. He needed to see what was happening, rather than just know that it was. But first, they needed to fix Mikey, regroup with April and Splinter, debrief and come up with a plan. The ordered list was soothing, though Leo knew that nothing ever happened that simply.

The phone rang, rang, and finally beeped as an automated voice told him to leave a message. He dialed April again, and just as before, she didn't answer.

Just as he was about to try a third time, urgency flooding his veins and hitting the numbers
harder than he had too, his screen lit up with a message.

Call u back later, it read, getting help can't talk.

Leo frowned. That was good- a good idea and, in all honesty, a necessary one, and the message explained why she hadn't answered, but… Most of their allies had already been captured by the Triceratons. Out of their few remaining friends, there were very few people that April - and even supposedly Splinter, since they were supposed to be working together - could get to in time to be of any use. What kind of help were they trying to get? Why couldn't she call? Why-

"Stop!" Mikey's sudden shout broke him from his thoughts, and he whirled around. "Stop- no, no- stop-"

Mikey was struggling to pull his hands from Raph's grip, his eyes wild and panicked. Donnie was rapidly reading through something on the stolen tablet, alternating between two screens- one a wall of words, and the other a dozen charts with rapidly moving lines.

"No, Mikey, you need to calm-" Raph began, but cut off when Mikey jerked back suddenly, throwing all his weight into getting away. His hands slipped from Raph's grip, and immediately, Mikey raked his nails across his upper arms, leaving bright red scratches behind.

Leo darted forward, grabbing Mikey's right arm as Raph snatched his left. Mikey flinched, tears flooding his eyes as he gasped, breaths coming quick and ragged and far too shallow.

"N-no, no no let go- stop it-" the words were forced and thin, punctuated by his unsteady breathing, and blood flecked his lips as he spoke- Leo really, really hoped he'd just bitten his tongue or something, because spitting up blood was never anything good. "L-le' go, I-I need- no, no, please-"

Mikey tried to tear his hands away again, but both Leo and Raph held on, prepared this time for his struggles. Raph was grinding his teeth together, expression murderous, but he didn't speak. That same dark, twisting anger spread through Leo's stomach, tendrils of it coating his throat and prickling under his skin. The Triceratons invade his city, threaten his planet, capture his brother and somehow send him spiraling from dangerously carefree to this. All in a matter of hours.

"What happened?!" Leo demanded. Mikey shook his head wildly, eyes glazed over and his gaze darting back and forth like a frightened animal. He was trying frantically to pull away from them, his struggles growing more desperate as they refused to let go.

"He just started freaking out," Raph growled, "and he keeps trying to hurt himself-"

"St- stop- I need- need- no no no no-" Mikey's struggles grew more frantic, words fading into a panicked keen, high pitched and tinny, and Donnie finallylooked up, shoving the tablet into his belt.

"Don, please tell me you know what's wrong?" Leo asked. Mikey suddenly went limp, crashing to his knees. Leo's grip on his hand slipped, and Mikey immediately started clawing at Raph's hands. Better than his own, maybe, but not ideal- far, far from it.

"I know enough- Hold him still!" Donnie reached out as Mikey thrashed in Raph's grip, his brief limp spell fading just as quickly as it started as Mikey kicked and clawed and twisted to try to free himself, feet and knees scraping against the rough concrete of the roof and cutting open. Leo quickly snatched his free arm again, which only really helped part of the problem. Bloody scratches covered Raph hands, but he showed no sign of it in his face besides his anger- but honestly, there was a lot to be angry about right now. Donnie scrambled to hold Mikey's legs, but Leo could already see the blood pooling around his heels.

"Okay, okay- we have to get somewhere dark and quiet-" Donnie took out the teleporter, leaning his weight across Mikey's legs with a quick, whispered apology to keep him still even with only using one arm to hold him. He glanced at the teleporter for only a second, before throwing it away with a soft curse.

"Inside then?" Raph asked, looking across the roof at the door that would lead into the building. Leo grimaced- he didn't like the idea of hiding during an invasion, especially somewhere that civilians could stumble into. But, Donnie was nodding, and Mikey was still struggling, tears pouring down his face and broken pleas falling from his lips, punctuated by sobs and whines that tore at Leo's heart. No matter how much they went through, Mikey was always okay; He was laughter and smiles and this was wrong. Even when he was hurt he was ready with jokes to reassure them and distract himself. He never cried, or at least, not like this, not sobs and pleas and broken gasps. ...They could spare some time for this. They could spare as much time as it took.

"It's our best bet," Donnie said. "We have to get this under control- and fast."

It was a struggle, to say the least. Mikey had stopped talking- or at least, he'd stopped being understandable. All across the roof, he spoke in tangled syllables and high pitched, warbling sounds of pain. He wasn't struggling as much, though, going mostly limp as soon as they lifted him into the air. His dead-weight made it more difficult, but it was better than his struggles. Or- or it might be. It might be a sign things were getting worse, but they could also be getting better. Leo chose to believe the latter option, for now.

"Alright Donnie," Raph said, adjusting his grip as he supported Mikey's shoulders and glaring at Donnie as he opened the stairwell door, which was thankfully unlocked. "What's wrong with him? What did those alien freaks do?"

Donnie sighed, creeping through the doorway and down the first section of stairs. After listening for a moment, he waved for them to follow. Raph growled, and opened his mouth to say something, but Donnie finally answered.

"Their machine," he began, leading the way down the stairwell, "was supposed to read his mind. According to this, at least." He held up the tablet he had taken. "It's a painful process, and most subjects never fully recover from it."

Leo felt a wash of cold rush through him, his grip on Mikey's legs nearly slipping as a shiver ran through him, leaving him numb. But- but that wasn't what was happening. It wasn't, because-

"You said it was supposed to," Leo said, his voice somehow not shaking. "What did it really do?"

Donnie glanced through the small window set into a door, shoulders tense and a scowl on his
face.

"This should do." he said, opening the door and revealing a small office. "Get him in here,
quickly. He's not going to be unresponsive like this for much longer, so-"

"Donnie," Raph snapped. Mikey jerked slightly, and Leo wasn't sure if it was because of Raph's voice or if it was just a coincidence. It was probably Raph. The universe was never kind enough for coincidences. "What did it do?"

Donnie was silent for a moment, before sighing. He slumped, leaning slightly on the doorway, not facing them.

"We aren't dealing with what it did." he said. "Not- not exactly. We saw that earlier. This is the aftermath."

He spun around to face them, walking over to push them into the room. Leo went, and once they were over the threshold, Donnie closed the door and drew the window cover on the door shut, leaving them with only the dim light outside to see by.

"They didn't read his memories," Donnie said, "though they were trying. Their best guess was that something about mutants or Earth life in general works against their tech. So, instead, it… the machine shut off and turned on different parts of his brain. Which, then, led to him giving away information, because he just… well."

Leo remembered how Mikey was before, halfway unaware and wholly unfocused. The way he lit up when the Triceraton commander returned, because… he'd been unafraid, unknowing of the danger he was in, and incapable of seeing anything wrong. And Mikey had always been good at making friends, attaching himself to people at the drop of a hat until they accepted him out of a lack of anything else to do. But that was just it; Mikey always befriended them first, and either they accepted that, or their rejection left him stumbling and hurt. He got attached easily, especially if he saw no reason to be afraid. And when he saw someone as a friend… he saw no reason to hide. There were no secrets between family, and for Mikey, friends counted as such.

"Then, what's this?" Raph asked, gesturing to Mikey as they set him down. As soon as he
was on the floor, he tensed up, eyes flying wide open and his breath catching.

"This is him trying to snap out of that." Donnie explained. "It's… his brain is trying to rebalance itself. But where before he was happy and unaware…"

"He's the opposite?" Leo asked.

"Close enough. His fear has been running a sideshow in the back of his mind, and now that he can feel it… it's overloading his system. He also seems to enter dissociative spells like this, as well as moments of intense sensory overload- the Triceratons weren't sure if it was just his mind balancing, though. They seem to think that their machine delayed thought and feeling, which then loads into his system too fast to process. All in all… the most danger he'll be in will be him hurting himself or… the risk of his heart giving out."

"What?!" Raph demanded. Mikey flinched.

"Sshhh!" Donnie snapped. "Quiet. Again, sensory overload. Everything, down to the temperature, maybe just the air if these notes about his complaints are right, might be too much if he breaks out of his current slump- which loud noises are definitely capable of doing for him!"

Notes. Notes taken and recording every single complaint Mikey had made- though based on what Leo had seen, complaints probably ended up translating to scattered words of fear and pain and desperation. And the Triceratons merely wrote down every word of Mikey's begging, and then erased that part of him- several times, if what little Leo had overheard on the ship was right. That the machine's effects had lasted for less and less time each time they'd used it.

"Great," Raph said, voice quiet but no less venomous than before. "So how do we fix it?"

"That's the thing." Donnie said. "We can't. We can only make it better, more manageable. The less things around him, the less things will bother him."

"Hence the dark room," Leo said. Donnie nodded. "But- but he seems fine now."

Or, actually, he looked awful- staring blankly and his breath shallow, blood drying under his nose and at the corners of his mouth. But compared to his earlier panic, this was better. Probably.

"It won't last," Donnie said, tapping the tablet. "They preferred, uh, resetting the process quickly, so there isn't much here on his current condition, but- but this is temporary. Be prepared for that, just in case."

"In case of what?" Leo demanded. Donnie opened his mouth- but the answer came in the form of Mikey bolting upright, his eyes flying open wide, and then slamming his head into the wall.

He was pretty sure he was dying.

It was hard to think, to focus, to know anything beyond the thump thump thump of his heart as it beat against his ribs, and the searing burning clawing tearing feeling as his eyes burned even closed and cloaked in black and red. He couldn't feel beyond the cold scratching pin-filled feeling beneath him or the weight of his feet against the ground or the press of the air as it drew in and constricted-

He was pretty sure he was going to die. That- that thought shouldn't be tempting, never never ever ever ever, but compared to the scratching burning clawing hurt hurt hurt it felt lighter softer better-

Why was he dying?

The din- Tricera- the commander wanted answers, right? Why weren't they helping why wouldn't they save him he would give the answers if they gave the questions instead of letting him hurt hurt hurt hurt and die- unless there was no more and he had answered everything and he was useless worthless knew nothing irrelevant and they were done pulling him back and saving him. He just couldn't remember. He couldn't think.

A voice (loud grating gruff cruel mean loud scary bad) (safe, scared, protective?) told him something and a flash of red filled his vision and Raph was here? Since when? If he was here why did everything hurt hurt hurt-

This wasn't the ship, wasn't the dinosaurs room, wasn't the Triceraton base- the machine is on that ship- the light is on the ship he needs it where is he why isn't he on the ship when he needs that light?- Leo and Donnie had taken him, had torn him from the ship into a field of needles and pain and no air too much pressure it tore him apart piece by piece slow and laughing and it hurt-

Why had they hurt him? Why take him from the light? He needed it needed it needed it- his mouth was full of that same too familiar taste of copper and it was blood it was, he knew it he was dying he had to be dying-

The pressure was building up too much, too hot bubbling and burning in his veins- he needed to stop it to fix it because now he didn't have the light or the dinosaurs or even the Triceratons so only he could fix it because if Raph could fix it he would have.

(Or maybe he just didn't want to…)

There were two voices. Raph's, loud grating angry, and another, still loud, but insistent calm firm worried. He forced his eyes open, blurry and indistinct but there was purple there so that voice was Donnie- and Donnie had to know how to fix it but it wasn't fixed, but it was Donnie and he knew everything so- so was it on purpose? He was dying (again again again so many times dark and cold and fading please not again) and Donnie had to know- They didn't care? If they knew and didn't help did that mean they didn't even care?

(Please please please care, fix him help him save him- he could answer every question they needed if they just saved him-)

He clawed at his arms, stinging burning aching, but the pressure was still there just building and building and building, and red against green was bad but he wasn't sure why- he kept clawing, the voices were loud can he claw out his ears? Yes. There was pressure in his head, his eyes were burning, something hot and wet and stinging trailed from his eyes down his face-

Something grabbed him- a person? Right, yes, his brothers were here- but that was wrong because his brothers were always cold but these hands were burning- they clamped around his wrists and wouldn't let go- his chest was tight his lungs were tearing his wrists snapped and broke and burned burned burned and if this was his brother why was he hurting him?

(Not that that's new.)

(He needed the light, it was on the ship, please go back, please please please- fix him help him fix him save him- let go let go let go let go let goletgoletgolet go go go go---)

Static tore and clawed and one hand was free until it wasn't and then there were three voices (please just stop talking it's loud loud loud loud loud) and more hands and they hurt and-

One hand was free again but his legs feet knees were on the cold scratching grating ground and the pressure was building in his arms chest head but the grip on his wrist was burning so he clawed at that instead (it never worked to relieve the pressure, but maybe it would work for this). (It didn't.)

(His feet felt slick. A glance down showed red pooling around them. He knew that was wrong, but he wasn't sure what it meant.)

More hands held down his legs, and the two people holding his arms drew his hands far apart, so he couldn't even try to fix this. (For the best. What could he do, anyway? Useless useless useless-)

He just wanted to go. Go home, go to the ship, go to the light- (the light that hurt his eyes and tore into his head and left him empty) (the light that soothed the aching, reconstructed his mind, and left him whole again)

The hands wouldn't let him go and the voices wouldn't stop screaming and he just needed- He was lifted into the air. Static buzzed in his mind, dancing in his vision, knocking the thought from his head. The ground had disappeared, just the itching pin-filled air left. Two hands held his shoulders. Two hands held his legs. The weight of them bruised broke tore, and they were burning (he thought he was with his brothers, but his brothers were cold) (his brothers would have saved him) but it was better than before.

He let himself go limp. His neck craned back, letting his head hang. It should probably hurt, but it didn't. Static clung to him.

It was better. It wasn't the light, but it was still softer better lighter. Was he dying? (Should he be?)

Light. Dark. Lights, set on the ceiling. Shadows. Night. Stars, out the window. ...He wished he was still on the ship.

Voices. Loud, grating, angry cruel scared worried sad voices that wouldn't stop tearing at his ears. It sounded like his brothers. He didn't want it to be. (If it was them, they wouldn't let him be like this.)

(A lie - a lie - because they would. He knew it. But these could not be his brothers. He didn't want to admit what he knew.)

((They. Didn't. Care.))

A voice, sudden and angry and so close- he flinched, barely forcing himself still again as moving made things worse. Why? Why couldn't he have just stayed on the ship? Home wasn't worth it if home was like this.

A click like gunfire, voices loud and grating- His static roiled like waves, salty sea spray cutting deep and stinging, seeping further and further away. No. No, he knew what it was protecting him from, the fire and ice and pressure and feeling- He latched on, burying himself in static and fuzzy white ringing that filled his ears and blocked out any meaning to the screeching around him. It clawed and writhed, slipping slipping slipping- Suddenly there was pressure at his back, under his head, down his arms and legs. The hands that carried him here withdrew, leaving only the pain of wood or steel or concrete or carpet he wasn’t sure because they all felt the same-

He couldn't breathe, he was breathing, he knew he was, so why did he feel like he was suffocating?, not with the pressure against his shell and the fire in his chest. The ground scratched at his arms and his feet were aching though he hadn't walked. It was all rising, rising, rising, the static melting away in the face of burning. A million ants crawled over his skin, legs sharp and scrambling. A hornets nest was in his heart, thumping thumping thumping a confused, erratic rhythm in his chest, sending blood boiling and cascading through his veins and the steam was going to split them open-

He could do it first, relieve the pressure and claw the ants away and cut open the beehive in his chest till it all spilled free and freed him from the-

"In case of what?" A voice demanded, too sharp and too piercing-

He wanted to cry - maybe he was - he wanted to leave, go back, get to the light and the commander and the scientist- the dinosaurs always fixed him, and even if the Triceratons were done with him, maybe the dinos would still help- His brothers, he wanted his brothers, but they were there and he still felt like this and now they left him left him left him- they have to have left him, because they couldn't be the voices that cut him and the hands that burned or the color that made his eyes ache (they could they could he knew they could). They could see him dying and do nothing to save him.

(They had before. They would again, this time. He knew they would.)

(He wanted to go back to the Triceratons.)

Stop, he screamed, or thought, or whispered, just stop please stop- I need this to stop-

The world has never been kind enough to stop. Not when he needed it too. It froze to prolong suffering; Never to ease it.

If no one else could fix it (if the light was gone gone gone) then he would fix it himself. His head was aching, was building up with thought and feeling and pressure, and- he sat up, ignoring the sound and movement and pain, and slammed his head into the nearest surface.

It should hurt, this should hurt, but it didn't, but the pressure didn't leave either- He drew back from the wall, prepared to try again, but something burning wrapped around him, all pressure and pain and he wanted it gone, but it just wrapped around his shell and chest and held him back, almost like the chair on the ship but this was worse than the ship, and something else grabbed his hands and another grabbed his ankles- it hurt it hurts so much please stop stop please-

A hissing, ringing- or no, a-

"Shhh, it's okay, shhh-" a voice, it was softer than before, but it still made it worse, but he knew this voice, but it was clouded in the sound of- screaming.

He stopped wailing, throat scratchy and burning, and when had he even started? He didn't know, but the voice was clearer now and his ears less pained, and-

"You're okay," another said.

"Just calm down," said another.

A sob tore at his already damaged throat. Tears seared his eyes. It was them. He was with his brothers.

And all Mikey could even think to do was cry.

"We need to do something," Raph hissed. Mikey had stopped screaming - a sound that he was not going to stop hearing anytime soon, unfortunately - but he was still sobbing, still struggling to get away from them and hurt himself.

Raph sat beside Mikey with his arms around him, almost like a hug but more of a trap, more like restraints than it was a show of comfort. Leo held Mikey's hands, while Donnie held his ankles- simultaneously making sure the damage Mikey had done to his heels wasn't that bad.

A dark bruise was already forming on Mikey's forehead, attesting to the absolute lack of care he had for himself right now. Which was why they couldn't just let him go. No matter how much Mikey asked them to.

"Go- le' go- need it-" he said, broken words held in broken sobs. "No- no-"

They'd all - but mostly Donnie - decided that the thing Mikey said he 'needed' was the machine the Triceratons had used on him. Raph almost wished they hadn't figured that out, because all it did was give him more reasons to go and beat those aliens back into space where they belonged, but he couldn't leave. Not to go fight on his own, not this time, and especially not when Mikey was like this.

The scratches on his hand stung as Mikey suddenly tried to bolt up towards the wall again, his struggles returning in full force along with a scream. That sound… it was a broken wail, scratchy and rasping in a way that told Raph that screaming like that probably hurt just as much as the scratches did.

"No- not here- no," Mikey gasped, twisting around so suddenly that he pulled both his ankles and one hand free from the others grasp. He clawed at Raph's face with one hand, and he fell back, letting go of his brother as his nails passed just in front of his eyes. "Stop, stop-"

"Mikey," Raph hissed, as quietly as he could at the moment considering that all he wanted to do was scream at him to stop, "it's okay, calm down."

The reassurance had seemed to do something earlier, getting him to stop screaming and struggling for a moment as he simply cried, but now Mikey didn't seem to even hear it.

His eyes were wide and glazed, his breathing was shallow, and that really seemed like his normal state at the moment, but something about the blank terror on his face made it clear that he wasn't processing anything.

Leo stubbornly clung to one wrist, but getting close enough to catch the second one was proving difficult. Donnie tried to grab at his hand, and Mikey lashed out, clawing at his face as well, just as he did Raph's. Was there a reason he kept going for the eyes?

"Not them, please no no no-" Mikey gasped out, stumbling as he got to his feet, finally twisting out of Leo's grip. Raph tensed up, but Mikey made no move to continue shredding his arms or bashing his skull in. His gaze darted between them rapidly, and he gave the startling impression of a cornered animal. "No."

That last word somehow carried more desperation, more sense of a plea, than anything else he's said so far.

"Not who?" Leo asked softly, drawing out the words slowly. Mikey didn't seem to hear, muttering a broken string of mashed up syllables.

"I don't think he can hear us," Donnie murmured. "Or at least, he can't get the meaning. I don't even know if he knows he's saying anything."

Raph gritted his teeth. Why were things always so much more complicated than they needed to be? If left alone he'd hurt himself, but if touched he'd panic. If talked to he'd cry, but if he wasn't he'd scream. What were they even supposed to do here? If they were at the lair, Donnie had said, they could have tried putting him into the pond- as long as one of them was supporting him. That might have helped, but it might have made it worse, but they had no way to even tell because they were stuck in this stupid office.

They couldn't move Mikey easily like this, and the teleporter had been meant for one person, so four people using it had depleted its power. Stupid limited alien technology… So they were stuck here.

The air in the room felt too still, electric and static like the moment before a lightning strike. Mikey shook his head, otherwise standing stock still, and Raph took a step forwards, reaching out slowly. In a flash, Mikey flinched back, stumbling into the wall. Another shriek filled the room, and Mikey flung himself away from the wall, falling to his knees. He brought up a hand to claw at his legs, and Raph lunged forward to catch his wrists.

"No- let go," a dozen scattered pleas fell from Mikey's lips, but Raph didn't let go. He couldn't. Not if Mikey was going to hurt himself.

Mikey froze, though, suddenly going still. His eyes were wide and his breath was shallow, but he wasn't struggling anymore. Raph relaxed slightly, before Donnie pushed him out of the way. He fell back, opening his mouth to demand why the heck Donnie had done that, when Mikey collapsed, and the tablet fell from Donnie's hands as he frantically reached out to help.

A soft beeping caught Raph's attention, and he looked down at the tablet. The screen that somehow still monitored Mikey's vitals stared back at him.

And it seems Donnie wasn't exaggerating when he said Mikey's heart could give out.

It was getting worse.

He had been prepared for it to get worse, had been expecting it, really, but despite his knowledge that it would happen, he wasn't sure if he could handle it if it kept happening. Mikey was alive. That was about the highlight of this situation. WIth every minute it seemed like his condition doubled in its severity.

He hated to admit it, but honestly, he was on the verge of getting Raph to knock Mikey out. The only reason that he hadn’t… well. One, he wasn’t sure if it would really even work. Mikey was running on fear and adrenaline, and the force needed to knock him out would probably do more harm than they should risk. His state of unconsciousness probably wouldn't last long anyway. Two… there was a chance unconsciousness wouldn't even make a difference. Still…

Donnie suppressed a shudder as he remembered just how close Mikey's heart was to giving out on them. If that happened again, he just might have them risk it, just to try to buy more time for these side effects to fade enough that Mikey wouldn’t be in danger anymore. They were keeping a careful balance here, one getting more and more unstable as it went on. At some point, it should level. It should start to improve. They had to get there soon, or else… Well.

He sighed, noting how Mikey’s hands were starting to twitch. It was better to leave him be during the few dissociative episodes he had, each lasting for less time and just falling away into an even worse meltdown, but Donnie was starting to wonder if they could afford to wait like this. Mikey was in no condition to do anything, and they couldn’t leave him alone, but they had an invasion to deal with. The Triceratons had a blackhole generator (which Donnie was going to research the heck out of, once this was over) and they already had most of their allies captured. They needed to regroup with April and Splinter, along with whatever help they managed to find, but they also had to stay here and wait.

That was the worst part. Mikey was in danger, even sitting right in front of them, and they couldn’t do anything but wait.

“D-don’t be-” Mikey muttered, head twitching to the side. He said a lot of things, most of which Donnie was sure he didn’t mean to say- or was even aware of. Most of them were about the Triceratons device, about fixing this, or just ramblings of ‘stop’, ‘no’, and ‘please’. Some, though, Donnie hadn’t managed to quite figure out. The ‘don’t be’s, and the ‘not them’s. Mikey never said who he was talking about, and at this point… at this point Donnie wasn't sure if he actually wanted to know.

So he just sighed again, listening to the rapid tap tap tap of Leo’s phone as he tried to message April and Splinter again, and the meditative breaths Raph was finally actually using for once, and resigned himself to his helplessness.

Leo held tight to Mikey’s wrists, doing his best to ignore the new scratch on his forehead. Mikey had been getting more and more violent in his attempts to escape them, clawing at their hands and even trying to bite them, but mostly, oddly enough, he usually went for the face, especially the eyes. It was an effective tactic, Leo had to admit, but it was ruthless in a way that
he had never associated with Mikey. Whether it was purposeful or coincidental, Leo didn't know.

Mikey twisted, letting out a ragged sob as he kicked and thrashed. Leo wanted to let him go. He didn't. He couldn't. If they did, Mikey would hurt himself. That didn't stop the fact that their attempts to keep him from that seemed to hurt him too. So the choice, Leo thought bitterly, is just whether or not we want to hurt him, or if we want to let him do it himself.

That wasn't right, Leo knew. Left to his own devices, Mikey could end up doing permanent damage. He could actually… What Leo and the others were doing, it would be temporary. What Mikey would do wasn't.

"Go le' go, go go," Mikey hissed, trying to tug one wrist free. Congealed, half formed scabs on his arms had torn in his struggle, and droplets of blood oozed down Mikey's skin, startling red against green scales. "P-please- please go-"

Leo gritted his teeth, steeled himself, and refused to let go.

Raph could feel his hands shaking. He didn't actually look - looking would make it real - but he could feel it. He forced himself to keep breathing evenly, counting the seconds as he did, for once grateful for the breathing exercises that Splinter forced him to learn. It was something to focus on, something besides his anger and, though he hated to admit it, his fear.

Mikey had almost- …Raph refused to finish that sentence. But he just- Mikey had been fine, had been on some fine point balancing act and succeeding, had simply stared, and been still. Why had Raph stepped forwards? Why had he broken Mikey out of that trance?

His breathing was just about as shaky as his hands were. He could feel his heart beating, too quickly, too strained.

"It- you shouldn't be," Mikey whispered. He was staring straight up at the ceiling, eyes red and puffy, but dry. Either things were getting better, or he'd simply ran out of tears. He still didn't seem aware, but his episodes were shorter, and the times he mentally checked out weren't as… complete. Raph hoped that meant things were leveling out.

"Shouldn't be what Mikey?" he mumbled, keeping his voice as quiet as he could while still being audible. They'd decided to try talking to him sometimes, see if it pulled him from his mind- and if so, if that was better or worse. Mikey blinked, breath catching.

"You c-can't be you," he said. "Please?"

"What does that mean?" Raph asked, failing to keep his voice as level as he would have liked. Mikey flinched slightly, and Donnie glared at Raph from where he and Leo sat a few feet away.

"You- I don't-" Mikey took a shuddering breath, eyes starting to water again. Donnie frowned, glancing at his stolen tablet for a moment.

"He's… still not quite lucid, I think," he said. "Anything he says, it… He might not realize what he's saying."

"Meaning?" Raph asked.

"...He could spill secrets, or thoughts he wouldn't otherwise share," he said, "or just be blatantly incorrect. It's hard to tell which."

"In that case," Leo said, "should we stop trying to talk to him?"

Donnie hesitated, before shrugging. Raph shared the sentiment. Mikey probably wouldn't appreciate even accidental prying into his head if it got results, false or otherwise. On the other hand… it was working, if only just a little. Mikey was talking to them, however disjointedly.

"It hurts," Mikey said, which was not very helpful.

"We- we know, Mike," Raph murmured. Mikey's head swiveled suddenly, his gaze coming to rest on Raph.

"So you can't," he said firmly. Raph felt his patience threatening to snap. He opened his mouth to ask again what Mikey meant, but he kept talking before he got the chance. "My- my brothers would fix it. They would."

Words stuck in Raph's throat. What? Donnie and Leo shifted uneasily. Mikey returned his gaze to the ceiling above them.

"They… they would," Mikey murmured, as if to convince himself. "So you can't be them."

He smiled, as if satisfied. Leo shifted forward, reaching out and letting his hand hover in midair. "Mikey-"

"But you- you know my name," Mikey whispered, face falling. "And have their colors. But you hurt me. But they would do that too. But they would fix it. Don- Donnie knows how. He'd know."

Donnie made a strangled sound, putting the tablet off to the side and shifting to sit next to Leo, right beside Mikey. Raph swallowed, trying to get his throat to stop feeling like he'd inhaled a desert.

"I- I would if I knew," Donnie said. "We would fix it, Mikey, but-"

"Not them," Mikey whispered. He didn't even seem to hear Donnie- or any of them, really. "You won't fix it. You hurt me."

"Not on purpose," Leo said. "Never-"

"But they hurt me too," Mikey continued. "So maybe…"

He trailed off, frowning into space. Raph bit his tongue, his hands trembling in shaky fists. He risked glancing at his other brothers, feeling his anger rise at the heartbroken, stricken expressions on their faces.

He had to stay here. He knew that. But it was so hard to sit here while those dinosaur freaks ran rampant. They did this. Those aliens were going to regret coming to this planet, regret threatening this city, and especially regret hurting Raph's little brother. 'But they hurt me too…' Raph had to open his mouth just to keep from biting off his own tongue.

This whole time- had he not even recognized them? Or had he just managed to convince himself that they were strangers? From the sound of it, Raph thought, he never actually managed to believe it. That was what he'd been denying, over and over again. He was trying to change reality with nothing but a broken kind of denial and a shattered plea.

"Donnie," Raph asked, his voice coming out rasping and strained, "you- you said… what he said could be false? Is that- is that why…?"

Donnie glanced at him, mouth pressed into a thin line, before he retrieved his tablet and pulled his knees to his chest. He looked helpless like that, almost like a frightened child, but there was a coldness there as well.

"Maybe," he said shortly. "It- it could be."

The words should have been a comfort, they should have opened the possibility that nothing they just heard was right, but in truth… Raph had no doubt that Donnie was lying.

Everything- hurt. That was the only real word for it. He hadn't been asleep, more just absent, staring at the ceiling for who knew how long, but now… His thoughts resurfaced, stitched together and frayed, but whole, his memories slow and dripping with molasses.

His mouth was dry, filled with the tang of blood. His throat felt like he'd tried fire swallowing- something Donnie had never let him try, even with just matches. If this is what the outcome felt like, he didn't want to try it anymore.

His arms and legs stung everywhere, and his head ached. He blinked, and this time when his vision blurred, it wasn't funny, not like it was on… the… ship.

He sat up, heart leaping into his throat, and hands immediately entered his view, hovering cautiously at the corner of his vision. Mikey turned, the figures before him fuzzy and doubled. He got the colors, though. Red, blue, purple, all surrounded by green… These were his brothers.

He swallowed, shrinking back slightly. What- what happened? He remembered pieces, snippets, the dinosaurs and the Triceratons - they were the same, the same, stop separating them - and the ship. The machine - the light, warm, bright and good - and… They wanted to know about the Kraang. Only the Kraang, always and always just question after question about the Kraang. They were enemies, he was pretty sure. That's why the Triceratons were here in the first place.

He remembered the pain hurt stop stop stop whenever the light ran out. Needles pushing their way through his skin. Mikey glanced down at his arms, a patchwork of smooth green and blotchy, red scabs. Some were small and crescent shaped, while others were jagged lines. He felt sick, looking away. He did that.

And then…

"Mikey…?" Leo's voice was laced with caution, a hopeful question tempered with fear.

His brothers got him out. And he had-

His gaze flickered to the scratch on Leo's forehead, the claw marks on Raph’s hands, and the bruise forming on Donnie’s cheek. Mikey's stomach twisted. He had- he hurt them, he hurt them he-

"Mikey, you- you need to breathe," Donnie said, taking a step forward. Mikey swallowed, then forced himself to take a breath.

"S-sorry," he whispered. His throat ached, protesting at the use of his voice. "I'm sorry, I-I-"

He cut off, shaking his head. They all glanced at each other, worry clear on their faces, but also- relief?

"How do you feel?" Leo asked softly. Mikey blinked. Were- weren't they mad? They should be. He didn't see why they wouldn't be. He had hurt them for trying to help, he had- had… Ice formed in his gut. Had he really said-

"...Better," he whispered. He shifted, foot brushing against the ground, and- no, no no. The movement sent a jolt of pain through his limbs, and the ground was too hard too scratchy too present why was it so- "but still… bad."

"Well, that's- that's good," Leo said. Donnie nodded.

"Any progress is good," he said. "But- if it gets worse again, tell us. Okay? Just- as a safety precaution."

Mikey nodded. He did his best to ignore the stifling weight of his mask on his face, the usually comforting fabric scratchy and irritating against his cheeks. It didn't matter, wasn't important, so just ignore it-

Leo's phone buzzed, and Mikey flinched at the sudden sound. Leo quickly grabbed it and scanned the text, expression growing determined.

"April and Splinter got help," he said. "She doesn't say who, but they're going to meet us at the generator." Leo hesitated, looking at Mikey. "Are… are you up for it?"

Before he could respond, Raph answered. "No! You can't throw him into a fight- not after all of that! He hasn't even fully recovered, right Don?"

Donnie nodded reluctantly. "That's true. He really isn't ready for a fight, Leo."

Whatever Leo's response was, Mikey didn't hear it. He just heard the static ringing in his ears, saw the way the room tilted. That was fine. They would figure out what to do, whether he listened or not, whether he answered or not, whether he wanted to or not- They'd decide, he'd follow; that was the way of things, so why did it feel so suffocating?

Raph and Donnie- he agreed with them, he did. He was too shaky and too unstable and he didn't want to go- going to the generator meant Triceratons, and - he wanted the light, just one more time, just once - he couldn't face them again so soon. But not going meant abandoning Splinter, April, the whole city to fight without him and he couldn't do that either.

"-key? Mikey!"

He blinked, head snapping up from where it had lowered. Raph had one hand out to help him to his feet, and a concerned, impatient look on his face. Mikey tentatively reached out, hand shaking, and took Raph's hand. He bit back a gasp (or maybe a sob) at the contact. Too hot too cold too much too much-

He forced himself to hold on until he'd been pulled up to his feet, then let go as quickly as he could without being suspicious. He glanced around the room, unfamiliar and still blurry, why hadn't that been fixed yet? His brothers were by the door - was he supposed to follow? He'd missed the final decision. - prepared to leave.

Mikey hesitated. He had to tell them, but- maybe it could wait- but this might be the end so-

"I-I'm sorry," he said, doing his best to speak at a normal volume despite the scratchiness of his throat. They all turned to him, confused. Before they could interrupt (before he lost the nerve), he continued. "I'm sorry I- I got captured. And for messing everything up. And I- we don't like the Kraang but I wasn't supposed to tell the din- Triceratons anything, but I did tell them about the Kraang. And I hurt you guys and I made you stay here and I-" you can't be them, they would have fixed it, you hurt me, you hurt me, they hurt me too "-I said all that stuff- I didn't mean it I just- I'm sorry, I-"

"Mikey!" Leo nearly shouted, and Mikey flinched, stumbling back. His ears were ringing, his chest felt tight, everything was happening too much- They'd been trying to get his attention the whole time, he realized. He hadn't listened, hadn't noticed, why couldn't he do anything right, he- "it's okay."

He froze. "W-what?"

"It's okay," Leo repeated. "It isn't your fault."

But… but it was. It's all his fault. Too weak, too-

A hand tapped his elbow and he jumped, barely biting back a yelp. Surprise and that too much feeling should never go together. Donnie drew back as if Mikey had slapped him (Mikey would know, he had enough firsthand knowledge to recognize it-).

"Sorry," Donnie said cautiously, "I didn't…"

"It's fine," Mikey murmured, looking down to avoid the guilt in Donnie’s eyes.

"Speaking of fine," Raph growled, "all that stuff you apologized for? It's fine."

"But-"

"No," Donnie said softly. "It's all fine, and it wasn't your fault. The Triceratons are tough- and you were grabbed by their commander. Any of us could've been taken. Their machine messed with your head, and any of us would've talked. That's how it works.

"You weren't exactly lucid or meaning to hurt us," he continued, "so… Everything is okay. We forgive you- not that there's anything to forgive."

"But- but I said-" too much too honest too far-

"What you said…" Leo trailed off. Raph sighed.

"You were right," he said shortly. It felt like the air had been knocked from his lungs. They… What?

"We hurt you- today, with the whole… super sensitive hurt laser thing the Triceratons had going on," Raph continued, "which was kinda necessary. But also… day to day."

"And that's going to change," Leo said firmly. "No more."

Mikey's eyes burned, though no tears fell. That was fine; He'd shed enough today.

"Are we good?" Donnie asked hopefully, as if they needed forgiveness. Why… why were they… Mikey nodded shakily, though his head was still spinning. A knot was loosening in his chest- a knot that had been building there for years. It wasn't gone, but- it was looser, easier to breathe around. That was enough, for now.

"Yeah," he said, voice still hoarse. "We're good."

They all smiled, relieved, before Leo's phone buzzed again. He looked down at it and cursed softly.

"We have an hour until the generator activates," he said. "We have to go."

And they did.

They went farther than they had planned, though; farther than they'd ever dared imagine. To the farthest stars and the most distant planets, to the edges of galaxies and realities.

And it was beautiful, and terrible, and through it they had each other. To lean on, to comfort, to cry with, to mourn. To laugh and win and lose and live with. And things improved; scars faded and hearts softened, and everything settled into peace even while at war with beings come from the stars.

There is joy, and victory. There is the defeat of the destroyers and the songs of the warriors who bested them, seven feeble figures- six from a world ignored and overlooked, and one repenting of mistakes long past.

Pain and hurt and anger are finally put to rest, kindness and care taken up in their stead.

But before that, there is a fight. A terrible moment, stretched forever in the hands of time, caught in a sprinkling of stardust. Red blood on brown robes, silver blades coated with the life and soul of a father, as his murderer runs free.

There is a ship, a dreadful ship that carries the light of hope and the threat of destruction, and there is an android that could save naught but six lives. There is a breathtaking, frozen moment as the world they left collapsed in a wave of light and darkness and death.

There are tears as the six leave behind everything in return for a chance to save it. There is an embrace, six grieving hearts howling for a release from the pain that the universe has dealt them.

And there are four, and there are two, who claim each other as family, though they share no blood. They are a broken, mangled thing of loss and trust and heartbreak.

And they set out into the stars.