Chapter Text
"Leo, Dee, Raph-Raph, don't you think you guys should get some sleep?" You huff, walking into the space deck only to see 3 of 4 turtles still up and working.
"For the last time, don't call me that!"
"It's been 2 and a half –wait, does the time travel count? Is it 3?– years, just accept the nickname, Raph-Raph."
He growls. "It's not even a nickname! You're just saying my name twice!"
You quirk a brow, schooling your secretly amused expression. "Then why does it trigger you so, Raph-Raph?"
"YOU-"
"Ahem! I thought we agreed to no aggravating conversations after designated nighttime hours!" Fugitoid cheerfully interrupts, looking at you both slyly. Raph concedes with a final glare, and you whistle innocently.
"Thanks, Professor. Anyways. Back to my original point. You guys need to get some sleep."
The blue-masked turtle sighs, already squaring up his shoulders to out-stubborn you. "We have one piece left to find, and only a month and a half left to get it. We can't-"
"Keep your shoulders tensed like that Leonardo and you'll get those knots I keep warning you about," you interrupt, walking towards his back. Smoothly, you start kneading and massaging his shoulders, smirking when he groans and slumps forward, forced to relax lest he experiences gruesome pain.
"This seems like a scene straight from Space Heroes," Raph mutters, glancing at you both with distaste.
"Actually, if anything, it would be more reminiscent of Star Trek when Captain Kirk thinks Mr. Spock is massaging him," Donnie speaks up without missing a beat, keeping his gaze focused.
"Great. Two nerd shows."
"Hey, at least Star Trek is more science-fiction! If anything, Space Heroes leans more towards a science-space-fantasy fusion resulting in a more bland and uninteresting imitation of-"
"Great. Two nerd shows."
Donnie shoots Raph a scathing look.
"Don't worry Donnie, sometimes the best revenge is the knowledge that you aren't him," you chirp, gracefully ducking from a shuriken that Leo catches with an un-amused face.
"That actually makes me feel a lot better. Thanks, (N/n)," Donnie calls out to you, shooting you a small smile.
"No probs!"
"Has anyone ever told you that you have an infuriating and punchable way of speaking?"
"Raph."
"What? Just making a statement," Raph holds his hands up in defense, going back to work under Leo's gaze.
"Aw, I knew I was your favourite," you tease, pinching Leo's cheek. He swats your hand away, making you mock-pout.
"You do realize your banter has only done the opposite effect of what you wanted, right?" He questions, raising a brow at you.
"What nonsense. Now, chop-chop, you guys should be off to bed-"
The doors slide open, letting a yawning Mikey walk through.
Fugitoid immediately turns his head to greet him. "Hello, Michelangelo! I'm surprised you're still awake."
Awake is a generous description, you think to yourself, noticing how the poor boy still seems half-asleep.
"Ughh, isn't it the middle of the night? Or whatever you call it in space?" He groans.
"Right you are, Mikey! Here to help me get these losers to bed?" You ask, immediately bouncing over to him.
"No time to rest! There's one more piece-"
"Of the blackhole generator left and we gotta find it yadda yadda yap yap, yes we know. It won't do anyone any good if we're all exhausted though, will it?" You drone, finishing Leo's sentence for him, earning his ire yet again. You're stepping on everyone's nerves tonight it seems.
"Can't we just destroy the pieces we already have? I mean, what are the triceratons gonna do with one stupid piece?" Raph complains.
"What if they go out of their way to replicate the technology, Raph?" Donnie snarks back.
"Hol' up, Raph's sort of got a point though," you say, leaning against the curved bit of their shared seats. "Obviously we should still look for the last piece, but why haven't we destroyed the ones we already have?"
"The amount of energy needed to eradicate it is already tremendous; a one-time only event," Fugitoid answers you. "Therefore, it is vital that we do it to all the pieces, at the same time."
You blow a raspberry, but understand. Still, it is inconvenient.
Suddenly, the ship starts shaking with a blaring alarm, causing Mikey to stumble into you. You steady him, glancing around warily as you make sure he doesn't crash anywhere else.
"Uh, what's going on Professor?" Leo asks, standing up from his seat.
"It- seems to be some kind of- hyper-spacial transmat trying to hone in on four targets!" He exclaims, staring straight at the boys.
Mikey falls, and you help him stand up from the ground as they all crowd round each other.
"You four!"
You sigh. "Why is it always you guys-"
A wide, bright magenta portal appears under your feet, swallowing you up with the guys.
"Waitwaitwait why mEEEEE-"
Screaming, you accidentally let go of Mikey, who immediately tries to grab your wrist.
"MIKEY!" You shout, feeling yourself be pulled a different way from them.
"Hold on dudette, I got you!" He shouts back, his fingers brushing your hand-
Before he gets sucked the other end of a portal alongside his brothers, falling flat on a 2D building rooftop.
"Where... where are we?" Leo questions, sitting up.
"Donnie! Explanation?!" Raph asks.
"I think we're possibly in some kind of... 2D alternate dimension!" He theorizes, taking in his surroundings.
"Guys! Guys!"
"Mikey, alternate dimensions does not mean we're in Pittsburgh-"
"(Y/n) isn't here!"
All of them turn to him at once. Donnie's brow furrows. "Why would she? I mean, if it was just four targeted, of course she wouldn't-"
"No, dudes!" He huffs, clearly worried and panicked in an unnatural way. "She was holding me when the portal appeared! Then, then she let go and I almost grabbed her but we got pulled apart by two-"
"You mean she's lost in another dimension that isn't even ours?!" Raph snaps, clenching his fists. Despite his angry demeanour, he's clearly feeling uneasy, and it spreadable to the rest of the group. Leo glances at Donnie, hoping for something reassuring.
He sputters. "Who... whoever sent us here probably wasn't expecting anyone to be grabbing onto one of us, meaning-"
"Is she safe?" Leo cuts in, putting a hand on Donnie's shoulder with a hard stare.
"I... I don't know," he admits quietly. "Not until I meet whoever brought us here, anyways."
A theme song starts playing, prompting them to turn around. Mikey, of course, says what they're all thinking:
"Huh?"
"They're..."
"Us?!"
"No way!"
When Alt-Donatello holds up his device, a scuffle breaks out, with the misunderstanding he pulled a weapon on them. Soon, all the Alt-turtles back up into each other.
"I'm tryna tell you! This isn't a weapon! This is a portal projector!" Alt-Donatello tries to explains.
"Oh yeah? Well, how do we know you're not a Krang?" Donnie shoots back.
"That's why we brought you here! The Krang! He's causing trouble in our dimension, and yours, too!" Alt-Leonardo explains.
Alt-Michelangelo pops up behind him. "Krang's like totally trying to destroy our realities dude! We just don't know how. You gotta believe us!"
"It's why we called on you posers- I mean turtles- did I say posers? Oops." Alt-Raphael provokes.
With only a small growl, Raph pushes past his other self, instead confronting Alt-Donatello. "Fine. You got us. Where the hell is (Y/n)?"
For the first time, he looks unsure, blinking. "(Y/n)? I... only targeted you four. Unless you're talking about our (Y/n), in which case, probably in her apartment writing her novel-"
"She was holding onto me when your freaky portal appeared man!" Mikey butt's in. "And now she isn't here!"
The Alt-turtles blanche, and now it's Alt-Donatello splutters. "I- well- I didn't account for such a variable... considering the way my portal projector works, it's most likely she's in another 2D dimension, considering ours is 2D in comparison to your world."
"Okay, can't you just bring her here?" Leo asks, calming down from hid initial attacking assumption.
Alt-Donatello looks troubled. "Not... really. When I latched into you guys, I hooked onto your universe's specific coordinates and selected you guys as my principals. Without knowing exactly where she went to, if I went through other universes I might accidentally summon their (Y/n) rather than yours-."
"What, so she's just lost?!" Raph snaps.
It's silent.
Nobody really knows how to answer when a friend is gone.
It felt like you were falling forever.
And by that, probably, like, a minute, before another portal gets torn open and you're free falling from the sky.
"WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK HOLY SHIT HOLY SHIT-"
You grapple and twist frantically in the air, tapping the communicator on your wrist. You totally weren't panicking at the rapidly approaching city that'll undoubtedly cause you to go splat. That's just ridiculous.
"Raph?! Mikey?!?! Can anyone hear me!" You shout into the cuff of your suit's collar. "Casey?! Fugitoid! April! Oh, God- DONNIE!"
The rooftop is fast-approaching. HOLY shit. This is how I'm gonna die. You squeeze your eyes shut, twisting your body so at least your spine doesn't snap first, and hope the impact is fast enough to kill you quickly.
Except... at the last possible moment, a pair of hands snatch you from mid-air, dangling you just before you hit the ground.
Or, rather, metallic claws catch you.
"Huh. I certainly wasn't expecting a rogue astronaut to be the one screaming my name for help," an unfamiliar voice states, sounding genuinely puzzled.
You open your eyes, also terribly confused. Glancing up, you only see a metal claw holding up your silver space jumpsuit. "Um. I was pretty sure I was calling out my friends' names, but thanks, man." You look behind you.
A dark, jade-coloured turtle with purple accents on his thighs and shoulders stands before you, with an even darker shade of purple colouring his mask (with drawn on sharpie eyebrows) and shell. The claw holding you seems to originate from his shell, and his arms are crossed holding a tech bo as he stares at you like you're the odd one here. You gape.
"Now, if you don't mind suppling some information-"
"No way-"
"You're not freaking out in the usual way, had April informed you of us in an emergency? If so, I'll need to know-"
"Are you Donatello?!"
He stops talking. He opens his mouth as if to respond, before closing it, his brow furrowing. After a moments, he starts to speak cautiously. "...yes. I thought you knew that, considering you screamed my name falling from the sky."
You could weep. Not in a good way. It was one thing to see your alternate dimensional selves in that freaky ahh Krang hallway last year, but actually being in one? One you think is safe to assume none of your other friends are actually in?
"Argh- okay, I'm going to sound crazy. Um. I'm (Y/n). (Y/n) (L/n)," you start, already preparing for an exclamation of denial.
"...Noted. Is that the crazy part?" He raises a brow, looking thoroughly unimpressed.
Well. That wasn't what you were expecting. "...Um. Don't you have a friend called (Y/n)?" You ask hesitantly.
"Not as far as I'm aware."
Oh.
Do you... not exist in this world? Have they not met you yet? Do you only exist in your universe? No- you saw yourself in that other ridiculously cartoonist universe in that god-awful sweater other-you was condemned to. You exist. You're repeated. You're friends with them turtles. You exist.
"Ms. (Y/n), as fascinated as I am by a rogue astronaut falling from the sky, if you don't-"
"I'm from an alternate dimension."
He drops you.
"Ow. Unnecessary," you hiss, standing up.
"Sorry, dumb-dumbs get dropped," he responds wryly.
You shoot him a glare you're sure Raph would be proud of. "Wow, A-plus hospitality right there," you drawl out.
Donnie –er, this universe's Donatello– promptly ignores your sarcasm, letting the claw, that was holding you previously, retract and take his tech bō that you only just noticed somehow. He holds up his hands, like he's about to list a check box. His posture towards you remains guarded and tense, mirroring your own agitation.
"Lets set the record straight," he starts, "you, an unknown entity wearing a modified astronaut spacesuit, starts free falling from the sky. My tech registers your unknown tech, I hack it, hear a bunch of syllables, then April's name, then my own. I prevent you from becoming a human pancake, and now you're saying you're from an alternate dimension." As he spoke in a flat tone of voice, he'd push down one of his fingers, staring at you with a deadpan. "Do you know how ridiculous and far-fetched this sounds?"
You cringe. "Right, well, when you put it like that-"
"It sounds nonsensical." He states, his brow furrowed.
You groan, definitely not staring at his sharpie eyebrows to prevents yourself from getting annoyed.
"I get that-"
"You can't seriously expect me to believe you, right?"
"Okay, that's fair, but-"
"I mean, statistically you're more likely to be a hallucination caused by my third all-nighter in a row. Or, a trap, or threat, to my family and city by one of our many enemies. Or, you could be a stalker and, right now upon meeting me, your fixation towards us have made you conjure up delusions of grandeur," he lists off.
It's your turn to deadpan. "I am neither a stalker nor schizophrenic-"
"Sounds exactly like what someone with anosognosia would say."
"Anoso-what? What even-" you giggle a little. "Of course. Donnie's of any universe can't resist showing off their sciency vocabulary."
One of his fake sharpie brows twitches. "It's a neuropsychiatric term specifically, thank you. Not even my area of expertise."
"Of course not," you reply instantly, your voice fond without you even realizing it. "Are you still engineering inclined? Physics?"
Your voice makes him feel perturbed, you think, watching him get even more guarded. "I think the answer is rather obvious," he replies slowly, grabbing his tech bō and finally letting the claw fully retract back into his shell.
"Then examine my communicator up close. You can tell it's not from here, right?" You offer, fiddling with your collar until you unhook the piece of tech that was snug in there. "I don't know what's the same here, and what's not. But when you examine what made these things, you'll have to acknowledge at least some truth in my words. Long story short, me and my friends are in space right now, and the one guiding us, Professor Honeycutt, though we called him Fugitoid, gave us all this. He's been alive for a stupid number of years and made all of this."
He stays silent, but he's staring hard at the technology you're holding. Clearly, he's debating something in his mind. "...regarding your friends, you shouted for April as well, right?" He brings up, flicking his gaze back onto you.
You nod.
A sigh leaves him, and he punches the bridge of his brow. "Say I believe you," he starts slowly. "Say you're telling the truth. About the alternate dimension, and the apparent space mission you guys are on for whatever reason," he looks at you with a blank expression. "Why should I help you?"
A shiver runs down your spine.
"Because you're Donnie, and you always help-"
"Whatever Donnie you're thinking of, that's not me," he interrupts flatly, a clinical edge to his voice. "I don't know you. I don't know any potential alternate versions of you. I don't know if you're a threat to my family. To the city. And yet, you're asking me to invest my time and resources towards a stranger, whose story I have no way to verify?"
"I'm telling the truth!"
He gives you a sharp look. "Forgive me if I can't take your word for it."
A part of you feels like screaming.
Another part of you feels like throttling this arrogant piece of shit. A more desperate part of you wants the Donnie you know- because he's right.
This Donatello isn't your friend.
But he doesn't have to be my enemy either.
"...but the prospect excites you, doesn't it?" You start, holding back a smile. "Foreign technology. The possibility of another dimension. Another you. Even if only my space part is true- it's still more knowledge for you, right?"
If there's one thing that makes Donnie, well, Donnie; one thing I have my absolute faith in...
"And if you weren't willing to give whatever you found a chance, you would've brought your brothers, wouldn't you?"
...is that he's got a bigger heart than people give him credit for.
A beat goes by. He groans.
"Ugh. You need a thorough analysis. I have too many files and theories on the balance based on string theory for you to either confirm or deny." He stares at you, a complex expression on his face. "However, until I get any concrete proof, we're going to set some ground rules, on my terms."
You bite back your grin. "Right. Sure. List em."
"Number 1) you stay in my lab. I can explain away little things pretending it's my project, but until I can't trust you, you're staying hidden. I'll strap you down if I must," he starts. "Number 2), don't touch anything unless I give you explicit permission. Number 3), if I find out you're lying, any and all arrangements between us ends."
You nod. "I agree to these terms."
The edge of his lips almost quirk up, but you blink, and it's gone. "Good. Now, I apologize for this next part."
You cock your head. "Apologize for what?-"
The next thing you know, you're knocked out.
It's cold.
For a moment, you wonder if Casey's kicked you onto the ship floor and you banged your head hard enough to black out for a moment. Wouldn't be the first time. You'd just shove one of his pucks in his mouth and threaten to detonate it.
But then you hear the thrum of electricity and a keyboard, and you think, maybe you're actually in the lair. Crashed in Donnie's lab even though you made both him and yourself a double espresso. But when you go to move, and inevitably shift something to earn an indignant squawk from the turtle, you find that you can't.
That wakes you up immediately.
The room is sleek. A clear, purple colour-scheme with a green overhead lighting directly on you. It actually makes you squint a bit. It reminds you of a really fancy lab, something your Donnie would go bananas over. Or maybe a less hostile but more creepy version of a krang lab. You cringe at the thought- might've gone a bit too harsh there. This isn't even the main thing you're supposed to be focused on.
After all, you're strapped by the waist onto the table.
"Okay," you call out, blowing a strand of hair that fell on your face. "Swear down that this was never something I agreed to."
"Au contraire, mon frère," Donatello's voice rings out from somewhere on your right.
You crane your neck to look at him, seated in a comfy-looking gaming chair fiddling with what looks like a very dismantled communicator. Most definitely your one. He doesn't look back at you. "I said I'd strap you down, if I must. Right now, you're still an unpredictable variable, so I must."
You groan. "You know. You're kind of an asshole."
He hums. "I've been told." The words slide off him like water. "Anyways, loathe I to admit it, your communicator is genuinely fascinating. I've never seen this alloy composition before, and it doesn't match with anything in my database. Also, you never turned it off. It's trying to reach signals that don't exist. Signals it shouldn't even be acknowledging as something that can and does exist."
"All I'm hearing is evidence to my name," you mumble.
"Not necessarily. See, even if I were to consider the factor of you being in space, the radiation alone would-"
"Man, a smartass too," you snort, staring up at the ceiling.
He promptly ignores you, but switches to muttering to himself, placing your dismantled communicator in some sort of fancy cradle.
"What are you doing?"
"I'm attempting to access your device's internal memory. The signal logs are encrypted, but a lot of it is severely weakened, probably from harsh overloaded interference it couldn't make sense of," he explains, swiping something from his wrist gauntlet (which you only just noticed he has) to his main screen. His fingers deftly dissect everything, until eventually he clicks on something that springs up multiple play files.
"Damn, did Fugitoid do like an extensive firewall or what?" You ask, puzzled.
"No- these are audio logs. There's literal sound wave pictures on them."
You brighten up. "Hey, this is great! I mess around with the communicator all the time to talk to, err, the alternate versions of yourselves a lot! If you listen, it'll prove I'm not lying!" You nod to yourself, smug and proud.
He clicks his tongue. "I have to listen to them first."
Well, at least he isn't ruling me out, you think optimistically.
The cursor clicks play in a random series of logs, maybe cause the randomness would validate your story more in his head.
The audio file sounds static-y, but the conversations are audible enough.
"It's sooo unfair how good you look in that yellow jumpsuit, April. Why do you look good in everything?"
"Spacesuit, but, maybe it's just meant to be? The other me in that weird portal hallway also wore it."
"Yeah! And I looked like an ugly sloth!"
"You didn't! The scarf was cute and endearing!"
"To each their own, I guess..."
...
"Woah, this zero gravity is really cool!"
"Don't go too far out, you could float away without us to supervise you."
"Go long!"
"What- (Y/N)!"
Static.
"WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?! If I didn't-"
"But I knew you would! Man, what a catch, Donnie!"
...
"Hey, (N/n), how come you dropped out of school anyways? It sounds so cool!"
"That's because you've never had to do homework before, Mikey."
"What's that?"
"You're better off not knowing."
...
"Leooooo. Captainnnnnn. Oh fearless leaderrrrr. Leonardo, the leader in blue-"
"YES, (Y/n)?"
"...oops, I forgot what I wanted to say. Sandwich?"
"Why can you never let me meditate in peace."
"Because it's lunch time and I know you haven't eaten. Now eat."
...
"Hey, Raph?"
"Yeah?"
"Mona's pretty rad. Make sure I'm invited at your wedding, alright?"
"...you're acting like Mona Lisa didn't commend you for being so adaptable. Pretty sure she'd have you as her maid of honour."
"I knew you wouldn't let your best friend miss it!"
"Don't push it."
...
"Isn't it weird we started off as two scraggly kids and now we're in space?"
"Casey-"
"No, no, I still can't picture you without thinking of the 7 year old who tried to summon a demon with the blood of my scraped knee and a burnt leaf-"
"...like you didn't cause your Dad honest to God grief whenever you came home banged up because you got jumped."
The silence that followed after was profound.
"...there's hundreds of hours on here. Do you ever stop talking?"
The words are clearly meant to be a jab, but the way he says it doesn't match it. His shoulders keep switching from relaxed and tense in a way that's really pissing you off, before he exhales slowly.
"It seems my brothers stay consistent dumb dumbs in every universe then."
You laugh. Bright, and unapologetic– because after all that angst expression and harshness, that's his conclusion? That his brothers sound dumb?
"If I'm to base your family off of you, I'm sure there are much more differences that overshadow that," you speak through small giggles.
"They're a nightmare," he mutters, clicking his tongue. And yet, there's a subtle fondness in his tone, like he'd set off a nuclear explosion for them anyways. "'Nardo likes to call us a disaster lineage. It's annoying how accurate the term actually is. You- well, if we have a version of you, and if she ever met us, and was anything like you, I'd imagine she'd probably fit right in."
The thought of a you not existing here sits like a stone in your stomach. So you try to distract yourself from it.
"You have April here, right?"
He hums, and nods. "Yeah. Which, reminds me, I must text her about how my multi-universe theory is actually correct and plausible," a smug tone coats his voice, immediately getting out a phone to presumably text her. "She's going to lose her mind at the fact there's another her. Probably will try and get me to see if I can make an interconnecting dimensional groupchat to make a support group for them, the fool."
The way he talks about it makes you smile. "You two are close, huh." It's not even a question, just a quiet observation of another consistency between universes.
Donnie pauses, as if debating whether to respond or just let the words be. "Obviously. She's my best friend."
"Obviously," you echo. "My Donnie and April are close, too. He made her a bunch of music boxes once- actually, forget I said that. He'd probably be mortified if he knew I told his alternate self that," you rambles slightly.
This Donnie quirks a brow, slightly intrigued. "Why? I made April a personalized playlist of only the best techno and dubstep that I update daily. There is no shame in shared appreciation of the world's finest organized sounds in pressure waves, frequency, amplitude, timbre, etc."
You blink. "Damn, daily?"
"Of course. Her auditory enjoyment evolves daily, thus, so does the playlist. Basic friendship maintenance for the obligatory act of care we are required to show."
"That's... really thoughtful of you."
"Naturally. I excel in all I put my mind towards."
Snorting at his words, you roll your neck and shoulders, wincing at how stiff they feel. You long for the French lavender message oil that was left in your shop back home, knowing a good deep tissue massage around the sides and nape of your neck would be doing yourself wonders right now. God forbid you get any muscle knots- they're such a bitch to ease.
"So, safe to say you believe me, right?" You attempt to make conversation again.
"I believe the evidence which currently supports your claim, but that could change at any moment." He pockets his in his belt, swiveling his chair to face you fully. He crossed his arms over his platoons, and you're starting to think his brow is constantly furrowed. It annoys you, but you make yourself pay attention to what he says next. "Unfortunately, believing you comes with a problem."
"A problem?"
"Multiple, actually, I was trying to mitigate it for you." He swivels around again, getting up the technology equivalent of a whiteboard on his screen to add to as he talks. "1) Portals are... finicky in nature, and, even more annoyingly, most of the times mystic based. Not to say there isn't an even more brilliant scientific equivalent! But regardless, a portal to get you back to your home will take an extensive amount of time."
He takes a breath. "2), whilst I can extract the navigation points from your communicator, none of it makes sense-"
"-probably because this dimension is 2D compared to my one!" You chirp in, trying to be helpful.
He stops. Ominously he turns around, as blank expression on his face. "...what."
You wave an arm to gesture all around. "This place is 2D compared to my dimension. It's a lot more, err, three dimensional where I'm from."
His eye twitches. "I'm sorry," he starts slowly, his voice level. "Are you implying my dimension's reality is too flat for you?"
"Um," you try and think if anything way to word it without coming off as insulting. "I mean so far I feel fine, um, I don't think I'd be able to see my butt, but I feel alright. Everything here just looks a lot more... vibrant."
"Vibrant," he repeats slowly, disbelief coating his voice.
"Yeah! It's... very colourful here. Nothing like my home. New York is very dull, and grey, and dreary, and wow actually a lot more aesthetically depressing than here. It kinds rocks here!"
He mutters something under his breath, probably cursing out your family line or something, before all his movements halt. "Wait, that actually explains everything!" he says quickly, excited.
A graph overtakes the large screen. "Say you want to make a heart, you can make an 2D one fine. But if you were to make a 3D heart, you'd need a numerical value for Z, which can't be supplied in a simplified graph in a way that makes the heart."
The graph is currently flat as he types in an equation, making a heart. However, when he re-types a different equation, (x² + 9y²/4 + z² - 1)³ -x²z³ - 9y²z³/200 = 0, nothing shows. Instead, an alert asking z= shows up, with no number able to satisfy z in a way to make the new heart.
"Now, we switch this to a 3D graph, and the equation works like a dream!" He smirks at the now 3D heart circling across his screen.
...you feel like you're missing something. "Okay, so. Like when we had 3D movies and needed to wear 3D glasses? Do you need some glasses to see my dimension?"
Donnie's eye twitches again, more violently. "No. No, that's not at all what I was-" he takes a deep breath, pinching the bridge of his snout. "Okay. I'll simplify it. The signals your communicator is trying to reach is incomprehensible to anything my technology can pinpoint because it contains geographical data unavailable to this universe-" he clicks rapidly over the 3D graph still displayed on his screen "-the z-axis, if you will. A depth value my reality doesn't account for because, apparently, life as I know it is a flat cartoon."
"I mean, you said it, not me."
"I'd like to inform you that my tech-bō adapts quite easily to a laser."
"Like the pet toy kind, right?"
"Would you like to discover?"
"Not really thank you- anyways, can you get me home?"
He scoffs, but, actually says scoff too, which confuses you. "Can I? The fact that you've gone from a 3D to 2D dimension indicates whatever targeted you also came from a 2D dimension-"
"-they targeted my friends, err, your alternate self and his brothers-"
"-my point still stands but your information has been acknowledged, mentally noted down, and appreciated." He gives you a side eye for interrupting him again. "Regardless, someone from a 2D universe, unlikely to be this one but you never know, has already discovered a way to transport people in such a manner. So, it's not a matter of if I can do it, but when, and just exactly how much better my version will be," he smirks, clicking his fingers out whilst cracking his neck.
Man... he could ego check Raph.
From the corner of your peripheral vision, a blue portal appears, and you cringe. God, please, no more portals-
"Ohhh, DONALD!~ You'll never guess who just snagged tickets for the whole fam for the upcoming Jupiter Jim concert-"
A lanky turtle saunters out, the silhouette mirroring Donnie's in a weird way. Immediately you can spot the differences: the yellow tinted stripes on his vibrant green skin; two red stripes in crescent moons on his face; a steel blue carapace, followed by long dodger blue mask trails that lead to his eyes.
You gape. No way-
Donnie leans back in his chair, dragging his hands down his face whilst looking up.
The atmosphere clearly not being what he expected, this Leonardo does a quick look around. "Wow, you're normally way more hyped than-"
His eyes landed on you. On the way you're strapped to the table. Then to the minimized 3d heart still on the screen. He blanches.
"Nardo-"
"OhmIGOSH GUYS! DONNIE HAS FINALLY SNAPPED AND KIDNAPPED SOMEONE FOR HIS MAD SCIENTIST EXPERIMENT!-"
"I have not kidnapped anyone. She's-"
"AND HE'S TRYING TO MAKE HER A JUPITER JIM MINION! HE'S ALREADY PUT HER IN A SILVER SPACESUIT-"
You groan, and bang your head on the table as you stare up at the ceiling.
Yeah, you're not going home for a long time.