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seldomscilence16 · 6 months

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Whumptober Day 24:

"I've got a head full of chemicals, mouth full of ridicule."

Goodbye note | Neglect | "I thought they were with you."

Fandom: Scoobydoo

Prompts used: all

So this ones a little drawn out, a little less on screen whump. A look into Mystery inc's not so perfect lives from teens vague perspectives. I'm basically writing the same thing over and over, because the headcanons are too good to change much. I refused to write Scoobys speech impediment though, I am surely doing it injustice, and it's terribly hard on my tired brain.

TW for implied abuse, Neglect and running away from home.

…

Rich kids, poor kids, middle class kids, no matter where you fall, there can be crap to deal with.

High society was fine for Daphne Blake, she shopped where she wanted, she always had food, she had a car-

She was exhausted.

Any club or extra curricular you could name, she's done. She gives everything 210% in the hopes that something will make her parents look her way.

She'd failed so far.

Shaggy Rogers hated high society, too much pressure and too many snobs. He'd been forced into so many clubs as a kid, he ended up hating everything except track.

He tried to do anything to keep his parents out of his business, to get them off his back, to block out their suffocating words. He spent time with Daphne- which was so easy, but his parents didn't need to know that- he did his school work, he went to track meets, he did anything and everything to be good and invisible to them, to get them to stop asking for more.

He'd failed so far.

Fred Jones loved his parents. He thinks… It was hard to love people he never saw for more than an hour over the course of a month. Their love for adventure didn't stop cause they had a kid, and Fred was happy for them, but the house- already rather small- felt like a box closing in on him every moment he spent there alone.

He did what he could, to keep himself occupied, to get himself some spending money- for all his parents' love of adventure, they mostly just had great luck and jobs that traveled. Fred did everything, so the house wouldn't crush him at night.

He'd failed so far.

Velma Dinkley's parents didn't quite understand Velma. It frustrated her most of the time, being forced into a bubble she never wanted to be in. She just didn't feel things the same way, didn't always say what she meant, her dad called her mean, and her mom ignored it and pretended she was her pretty little perfect daughter.

She distances herself as much as she's able, she doesn't give in to the pressure of disappointed sighs. She hangs out with Fred Jones, because he doesn't mind being her partner in class and makes her think about what she says. She tries to convince herself that the thought of going home isn't exhausting, that she can handle it.

She'd failed so far.

They're all just shy of 18, senior year, and they finally find themselves in the same place together. They've had interactions of different pairs/groupings, but now they're all four face to face. Well 5, if you include the dog, which they should since he was of the talking type and would get offended otherwise.

They'd all individually decided to solve the same mystery. It was the biggest- and only noteworthy- mystery of the town. Daphne just knew this would impress her parents- or she'd get to punch a ghost. Where Daphne went, Shaggy was bound to end up one way or the other, a little food was the best bribe, and Scooby was by his side and Daphne was in front of him, he had nothing better to do. Velma was unconvinced it was a real ghost- though she now knew a talking dog so- but whether it was or wasn't, she could hone her skills and hope for a challenge to solve. Fred couldn't very well let Velma go alone- he didn't have enough money to bail her out of jail if she decided to fight someone or trespass- and he was always looking for exciting things to keep him from home, and if there was a ghost, they'd need a trap.

To find other teens willing to go ghost hunting at a questionable hour in an abandoned fairground, was not what they'd expected however.

"Daphne Blake and Shaggy Rogers, I wouldn't expect to find people of your standing out here." Velma will say it came out better than it would have, but still harsher than what she'd meant.

She didn't mean, 'why are you rich as*e* in a sketchy field?' She meant, 'You guys do a lot at school, how did your parents let you out of the house to do this tonight?' Before either she or Fred can add to it however, Shaggy answers,

"I figure if there's gonna be any screaming tonight, it'd be like better if I can get some out first before I go home." Shaggy seems more mellow than he does at school, hand running over the dog- Scooby's- head.

"I'm gonna punch a ghost." Daphne states plainly, glaring at Shaggy when he elbows her, "and hopefully get into the paper, my dad reads that every morning." She adds reluctantly, turning to make her way into the fairgrounds.

"Do you mind if we join you guys?" Fred asks quickly, as Shaggy and Scooby follow the red head.

"Sure, a bigger group may attract the ghost!" She calls over her shoulder.

"We do not need help." Velma tells Fred.

'I do not feel comfortable.'

"Don't worry Velm, if we work together you'll have more time to do the fun stuff." Fred smiles, throwing an arm over her shoulders to guide her towards the other teens.

There is no ghost. Just an old man who wanted cheap land. But for a moment, it seemed as if there was one, a clue here or there that didn't quite add up. They all bounced off each other well, Shaggy understood what Velma meant and even seemed to appreciate her bluntness occasionally. Daphne listened to what she had to say, and pointed out things the girl missed- finding signs and meanings from seemingly random things that weren't actually random. Freds elaborate traps were easier done with three added people- and easier to shrink down to an easier one with three arguments to why they didn't need a flamethrower Fred.

They do get their picture taken for the paper, to be released in the morning somehow, but for the rest of their night, they take Shaggy's suggestion and find the 24 hour diner for milkshakes and snacks. They don't realize they need to wind down until they're sitting in a corner booth and their hands shake as they hold their menus.

"I don't want to go home." Shaggy murmurs after a few milkshakes and three plates of food.

"You could come to mine." Daphne responds, "Not like my parents will notice." She adds under her breath, slouching because she knows her mom hates it.

"So you meant it before, about the yelling?" Fred ventured cautiously, playing with the straw in his drink.

Shaggy shrugs,

"They say I've got a head full of chemicals, but their mouths are still full of ridicule. I had to like… fight to get my meds, but they hate it. Hate…" He trails off, shoulders curling inwards as he thumbs a bruise on his wrist. "It's whatever."

"It is not. Your parents suck and I hate them." Daphne glowers at the straw wrapper she's mangling, since she can't touch his parents.

"So do yours." Shaggy counters, leaning on her shoulder some.

"You guys could come to my house. I… don't have a lot of room, but it's empty anyways. Parents wouldn't even notice if you slept in their room." Fred puts in, nudging Velma to include her in the offer.

"My mother would lock me up if she knew I'd stayed at your place." Velma says with a huff.

Daphne sits straighter,

"So you stayed at my house." She says, eyes gleaming. "And I stayed at yours if mine bothered to ask. And Shaggy was at Freds."

"Idk Daph, they'll already be pissed tonight…" Shaggy looks like he wants nothing more than to say yes, but a fear lingers in his eyes.

"Well, if they're going to yell anyway…" Velma re-uses Shaggy's earlier reasoning, and suddenly it's like they've all been friends for years and this is totally ordinary behavior for them.

Like, 'Of course we're gonna lie to our parents about where we are and have a sleepover at Freds.' Like there isn't the likely chance of real consequences in a couple of their futures, but it doesn't matter in this moment. And as they gather at Freddys house, they come up with more plans, more 'of course's!' Because they get along like a house on fire, and smooth eachothers edges and calm eachothers nerves and boost each other's confidences. By the end of their night, after hearts laid bare- bruises on display, feeling gross and out there, tears shed and shouts shouted- they have the vaguest of plans.

Several days later, finds phone calls from panicked- re; angry- parents to one another.

"I thought they were with you!" Mr. Rogers accuses Mr. Blake.

"Why in good heavens would I allow my daughter to have two boys stay the night??"

"Well what about my sweet baby Velma?? She said she was at Daphnes!" Mrs. Dinkley is in tears, she had plans for them! Mommy daughter plans!

"Norville said he would be at Fredricks house dear." Mrs. Rogers cuts in, voice devoid of anything.

"Oh my. Well they could have been I suppose… let me look." Mrs. Jones mutters all the way to her son's room, jetlag weighing heavy on her mind, she had wanted to sleep when she'd arrived, not deal with this. "Oh look, a note, let me get my glasses-"

"Hurry up woman!" Mr. Rogers yells, he was late for work dammit!

"Alright alright, so fussy, I have a headache… hm, Dear adults- so informal- Dear Adults,

We have left. If you are reading this, we've been gone for nearly a week without your notice. As we are nearly adults ourselves, we decided we weren't going to put up with your sh*t anymore. If you want to check on us, watch the News, we'll be making history with our new 'Mystery Solving' gig.

Goodbye forever probably,

~Velma, Shaggy, Daphne, Fred

"Oh there's a paw print too, how festive."

The angry yells last for long hours and weeks after. Police read the note and do indeed find them on the News, they inform the parents there's not much they can do. They warn them, an investigation may garner… worse results than they hope for.

The threat is clear.

The members of Mystery Inc. Smile.

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ohanahoku-ao3 · 5 months

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Whumptober Day 24

Have a little Steve Whump on me. <3

Teen & Up - Gen - Stranger Things

The Truth Spills Out

The drug that the Russians had pumped Steve full of hadn’t worn off as thoroughly as he’d thought. Throwing up had eased the symptoms somewhat, and the rush of adrenaline had masked them well up to the point that Steve drove himself home. By the time he reached his street, his vision was a little twirly, and Steve didn’t park so much as he ran into his mailbox and stopped in a moment of startling clarity. His car was crooked, half in the driveway and half out, and Steve blew out a breath of relief that he had somehow managed to make it.

Scrubbing his hands over his eyes, Steve tried to banish the blur from his vision before getting out of the car. His feet felt clumsier than usual, and he stumbled, holding onto the sides of the vehicle as he walked around it, wobbling on weak legs as he moved. The adrenaline was gone, the exhaustion was setting in, and Steve felt too dizzy to move away from the car. He was sure he’d fall if he did, though the pavement was looking comfier with each passing second.

“Are you drunk?” His mother's shrill voice had Steve’s head snapping up from its drooped position, and he blinked rapidly at his mother. Everything was still blurry, a little off-kilter, like a double-exposed photo taken at slightly different angles. But he could still make out his mother standing under the house lights, and when he turned his head, he could see his parents’ car in the driveway. “Answer me, Steven! Are you drunk?”

She snapped the words at him, and Steve answered automatically, blinking through the dark at her. “No, m’high.”

“I told you he was doing drugs, Martha!” His father stepped out of the house, but Steve lost sight of him when his stomach suddenly rolled and forced him to hunch over as he threw up all over their driveway. “This is why we had to cut him off, and look at him! He’s still blowing his money on narcotics!”

Steve spat on the ground, grimacing. Bile and water were all he had to come up, but the act of heaving was hell on his sore stomach muscles. “Not doing drugs.” He said, wiping at his mouth with his shirt and wrinkling his nose at the vomit and blood already on it. “‘Cotics neither.”

“Excuse me, young man? Do you expect us to believe that lie when here you are throwing up and telling us you’re high?” His mother came toward him, likely to haul him inside by his ear before he made a bigger spectacle of himself for the neighbors.

Steve dropped the shirt and straightened up, blinking slowly as her face took on a look of shock. “Not lyin’.” He insisted, blinking harder and covering his eyes as his vision spun. He did not want to throw up again. “You don’ un’erstand.”

“Oh, we understand alright, Steven!” His father said as he walked over to them. “Stop lying and tell us what you’ve been doing tonight.”

Steve felt like he couldn’t breathe suddenly. The commanding tone of his father’s voice, the one that demanded obedience, sounded too sharp, and Steve felt like he was back in that blood-splattered room with the Russians.

“Answer me, boy!” His father barked, and Steve couldn’t help but answer as the truth, all of it, spilled out.

“I was being tortured!” Steve shouted, hands falling away from his face. His parents both gasped, but Steve continued through their shock. “I was being tortured by Russian soldiers under the mall! The freaking mall, because of all places, Hawkins is the most messed up place in America!

“It’s got other dimensions and monsters that you couldn’t believe,” Steve said, eyes bright with tears that further blurred his vision, and he lifted his hands to bury them in his hair and pull. “I mean, you really wouldn’t believe them. They’re faceless and made of shadows and melted flesh, and they can possess people, and that is so, so scary.”

“Steven-”

Steve cut his mother off, rambling right over her. “Do you know how many times I’ve nearly been killed in the last two years?” He asked, eyes manically glancing between the two blurry figures in front of him. Panic, and fear, and anger were all brewing inside of him as he started to list things off, counting on his fingers. “First, Nancy almost shot me. She was stressed, it’s whatever. Then I nearly get sliced in half from that faceless thing that climbed out of the ceiling.

“Then, a year later! Almost to the date! I’m attacked by those demodogs and barely make it back to the bus with the kids. Then Billy shows up while we’re trying to save the world, and he nearly kills me for no good reason! Did you know that I can barely hear in my left ear now because of him? Oh, and then there’s the tunnels of death that we had to hike through and SET. ON. FIRE! With those freaky living vines and the monsters, I still can’t believe I’m still alive!

“Oh, and then this week.” Steve cut himself off as he started laughing hysterically, taking a few unsteady steps in a circle. “I could have died so many times this week. First, when we were on the roof spying on those guys carrying guns around behind the mall, and then when that elevator of death started up, I nearly died from a heart attack. Then there were Russians. RUSSIANS! And they had guns and knives and bone saws and-” Steve sobbed as he wrapped his arms around himself, feeling cold. “And they stuck a needle in my neck- and I couldn’t-” He squeezed his eyes shut. “Then there were more Russians, and that beast made out of people and rats! Then Billy again and- Oh Billy. God, Max is gonna be such a mess over this because he- He didn’t make it.”

Steve sobbed and fell to his knees as his strength and ire left him. “And god, you’d know all of this if you were ever here instead of god knows where, and I can’t- I can’t-”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, now, sweetie.” Warm arms wrapped around him, and Steve blinked at the sudden appearance of Claudia Henderson next to him.

“Mrs. Henderson?” Steve said numbly, leaning into her embrace. “What’re you… Is Dustin okay?”

“Dustin will be just fine once you join him in the car.” She answered. “Come on, now. Let’s get you up.” She pulled away and helped him up, catching him as he staggered into her side. “It’s alright, sweetie. Just lean on me.”

He nodded his head as he followed her instructions, not fully hearing it as the kind woman said something to his parents and shushed their protests before pulling him along with her.

Dustin was waiting in the car and immediately latched onto Steve’s side as he was helped into the backseat. “I’m sorry. I had to tell her everything, or she wouldn’t come.” He mumbled into Steve’s shoulder.

“She knows?” Steve asked dumbly after a moment of processing the words.

“I know, sweetie. You kept my Dusty safe, and now we’ll take care of you for a change, okay?” Mrs. Henderson said, staring at them from the front seat with a soft look.

Hot tears filled Steve’s aching eyes, and he hugged Dustin back hard as he nodded, letting them spill over with a sob as the night caught up to him at last.

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lithium223 · 6 months

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#whumptober 2023 #no.24 #i've got a head full of chemicals mouth full of ridicule #transformers #character moodboard #tarn #idw g1 #mtmte #moodboard

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donatellokinnersinner · 6 months

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Whumptober Prompts Masterlist

TMNT 2003

Day 1: But Now This Room is Spinning While I'm Trying Just to Fill in all the Gaps

Day 6: Do or Die, You'll Never Make Me, because this World will Never Take My Heart

Day 7: I Paced Around for Hours on Empty, I Jumped at the Slightest of Sounds

Day 8: I've got a Soul, But I'm not a Soldier

Day 14: Feed me Poison, Fill me 'til I Drown

Day 18: I Tend to Deflect When I'm Feeling Threatened

Day 19: I'll Take One Final Step, All You Have to do is Make Me

Day 21: See the Chains Around my Feet

Day 23: It's Gonna Get Me by the End of the Night

Day 25: You're Not Delivering a Perfect Body to the Grave

TMNT 2012

Day 2: I'll Call out Your Name, But You Won't Call Back

Day 5: You Better Pray I Don't get up This Time

Day 9: Learning Everything Ain't What it Seems, That's the Thing About these Days

Day 15: I Don't Need You to Help Me, I Can Handle Things Myself

Day 16: Would You Lie With Me and Just Forget the World

Day 26: Sometimes I get so Tired, I Don't Even Know Myself

Day 27: You Drew Stars Around my Scars, but now I'm Bleeding

Day 28: We Might Not Make it to the Morning, so go on, Tell Me Now

ROTTMNT 2018

Day 3: Like Crying Out in Empty Rooms, With No One There Except the Moon

Day 17: You're the Lump in my Throat and the Knot in my Chest

Day 24: I've Got a Head Full of Chemicals, Mouth Full of Ridicule

Day 29: I Only Sink Deeper the Deeper I Think

Day 30: It's Okay Just to Say 'I'm Not Okay'

TMNT Mutant Mayhem 2023

Day 4: I See the Danger, It's Written There in Your Eyes

Day 11: All the Lights Going Dark and my Hope's Destroyed

Day 13: It Comes and Goes like the Strength in Your Bones

Day 31: I Thought that I was Getting Better

Crossovers

Day 10: Can't You See that You're Lost Without Me?

Day 12: I Haven't Slept in Days, But Who's Counting?

Day 20: People Don't Change People, Time Does

Day 22: They Never Saw Us Coming, 'til They Hit the Floor

#tmnt #tmnt fandom #fanfiction #tmnt fanfiction #ao3 fanfic #tmnt 2003 #tmnt 2k3 #tmnt 2k12 #tmnt 2012 #rottmnt #tmnt mm #whumptober #whumptober 2023 #Sinner's Whumptober

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69hertz · 5 months

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October may be over, but I`m not done with my inktober/whumptober journey 😈 I still have too many cool ideas for the prompts!

So.

Day 24 // inktober: Shallow // whumptober: "I've got a head full of chemicals, mouth full of ridicule"

Also I started using new (for me) drawing app, IbisPint. This is my first attempt to draw in it, and I think this app is quite good! Especially the brushes 🥰 The only problem for me was that saving the final artwork was somehow difficult (but maybe I just didn't see more simple way, as I often do)

#miles my beloved precious boy #(holds him gently)#bright young things #miles maitland #michael sheen #digital art #art #whumptober 2023 #no.24 #lyric #inktober day 24 #inktober

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mj-iza-writer · 6 months

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Whumptober Day 24

"I've got a head full of chemicals, mouth full of ridicule" / Goodbye Note / Neglect / "I thought they were with you."

I struggled so much on todays story, I've written three stories for today and did not like two of them, so I really hope three is the charm. I'm going with a comfort Whump again. Big shock, I know.

Contains 🤬 Swearing

Whumper rushed out of the house, clutching the goodbye note Whumpee had left.

"That freaken idiot, we are under a major storm watch, and they decide to pull this crap", Whumper looked at the note again, "Whumpee, you are so in trouble when I find you."

Whumper drove like a mad man trying to find Whumpee. The storm was clearly coming in now, faster than the news said it would. This definitely wasn't a watch anymore.

"Why am I doing this?", Whumper complained to themself, "I should just go home and let them suffer out here."

A huge branch fell beside Whumper's car as they drove past.

"I need to be careful out here", Whumper sighed.

Whumper realized Whumpee may be in one spot they hadn't checked yet.

"Cemetery", they quickly turned a corner, "they have to be visiting their parent's grave, they've asked a few times if they could go."

Whumper pulled into the cemetery as the rain started pouring down.

They opened their window, "WHUMPEE", they yelled.

A head popped up from behind a grave stone.

"Whumpee, get your fucking ass in this fucking car", Whumper screamed, "are you a fucking idiot."

Whumpee rushed to the car and got in.

The car ride home was uncomfortably quiet, except for Whumpee's tearful sniffles

Whumper followed Whumpee into the house.

"Go get dried off and changed, meet me in the living room. We need to talk about your actions", Whumper stated soberly.

Whumpee whimpered but nodded, then went to do as they were told.

They came down to the living room and knelt on the floor. They weren't really sure if they had permission to sit on the furniture at this time.

Whumper came in, holding a bottle of water and offered it to Whumpee.

"I had to go get supplies because of this storm, and I come back to you being gone", Whumper sat on the couch and watched Whumpee suck down the water, "what were you thinking?"

Whumpee looked down at the floor, they new if they started talking, they would cry.

Whumper frowned, "you have to answer me, I want to know what you were thinking to have done something so fucking dumb, you knew this storm was coming."

Whumpee finally looked up at them, "stop swearing at me", they yelled as warm tears streamed down their face, "you promised me you would take me to visit my parent's grave for three weeks now. I wanted to go, I wanted to leave them flowers, but I couldn't. I can't do anything without you now, and that's not fucking fair?"

Whumper looked at them in shock.

"I knew this storm was starting, but I thought I had more time. I just wanted to see my parents", their voice cracked, as tears dropped from their chin.

Whumper looked down, realizing they had definitely been asking for this one thing for a long time. Whumper kept putting it off.

Whumpee's angry sobs pulled their attention back.

"Okay, let's take a deep breath", Whumper started, "let's restart, can we restart?"

Whumpee took a breath and nodded. They shook with anger and resentment toward Whumper.

"Okay, are you okay? That should have been my first question. Did you get hurt at all from the storm?", Whumper started.

"No", Whumpee stated, "I'm fine."

"Okay good", Whumper smiled weakly, "I got a little shaken up driving around looking for you, especially when a branch almost fell on my car", Whumper looked down, "I said some very mean things to you while I was mad and scared, and you did not deserve that. I am sorry for my swearing and anger."

Whumpee looked down, "I was scared to, I didn't know the storm was going to start that fast."

"Yes, the news got it wrong... again", Whumper sighed, glad Whumpee was communicating.

"I am also sorry for failing to take you to see your parents, I don't have any excuses besides that being put off by other things", Whumper looked outside, "I know thats the one thing you asked for, and I failed. How about this weekend, if we are able to, you can go pick some flowers out. We will stop by the cemetery and visit them."

"I would like that", Whumpee finally took another deep breath, "I'm sorry for leaving the house, and for you having to drive in the storm."

"It's okay", Whumper felt relieved, Whumpee may have been forced into Whumper's care, and Whumper wasn't much interested in taking care of them, they knew they screwed up big time.

"Let's get dinner ready, I'll go back over some of your rules, and see if we can set different boundaries that may give you a bit more freedom", Whumper stood, "does that sound fair?"

Whumpee nodded.

"Okay", Whumper led them into the kitchen, "let's get dinner going. Will you help me?"

"Yes."

Taglist. As always please let me know if you want to be added or taken off of the list. It's not a problem at all. @villainsandheroes @the-beasts-have-arrived @sacredwrath @porschethemermaid @monarchthefirst @generic-whumperz @bloodyandfrightened

#whumptober2023 #no.1 #no.2 #lost #oc #writing #swearing #storm #whump community #whump stuff #whump writing #whump ideas #whumpee #whump #whump scenario #whumper

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aquietwritingcorner · 6 months

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I've Got a Head Full of Chemicals; Mouth Full of Ridicule

Title: I’ve Got a Head Full of Chemicals; Mouth Full of Ridicule Day: Whumptober 2023, Day 24 Prompt: “I’ve got a head full of chemicals; mouth full of ridicule” Goodbye Note/Neglect/ “I thought they were with you” Fandom: TMNT 2012 Word Count: 7053 Author: aquietwritingcorner/realitybreakgirl Rating: T Characters: Donatello, Leonardo, Raphael, Michelangelo, Splinter Warning: suicide (But not really. Just some assumptions made), drugging (accidental) Summary: Donnie is more than excited to examine a new chemical that they stole from the Kraang. But when his ventilation system fails without him noticing, the chemicals mess with his mind. Now missing and having left behind worrying and concerning notes, his family races to find Donnie—and to cope with some realizations about their resident genius Notes: Wow I hope this doesn’t come off as too much of a “poor 12 Donnie” fic and more of a reasonable route. This one got away from me boys, I’ll admit that much! AO3 || ff.net

__________________________________

I’ve Got a Head Full of Chemicals; Mouth Full of Ridicule

“Where is he!”

“I don’t know!”

“How did he leave!”

“I don’t know!”

“Why didn’t anyone see him leave!”

“I thought he was with you!”

Mikey watched from the couch as his older brothers yelled at each other as they tore apart the lair, looking for Donatello. He’d been super excited about some new chemical or something that they’d found on a raid of a Kraang warehouse and had practically locked himself into his lab, giddy. That hadn’t been anything too unusual, but after three days of not seeing his brother, Mikey had gone to check on him.

He hadn’t expected to find a lab full of fumes, scattered scribblings on the walls, and papers and books scattered everywhere. The fumes had been enough to send him reeling, and Leo and Raph had pulled him out of there, depositing them on the couch before the dove back in to find Donnie. Mikey had dizzily watched, his father by his side as they stood ready to help.

Raph and Leo had emerged without Donnie, although they had turned on the fans that Donnie kept in there. It had become obvious, though, that the fans were part of the problem. Instead of sending the fumes out, it was like they just stirred them around. Mike had watched as the rest of his family had quickly closed the lab door, before getting some other fans and using them to clear out the fumes. Then they had started looking for Donnie.

That had been an hour ago, and the fumes were pretty much gone at this point. A little bit lingered, but Mikey, no longer dizzy, figured it was safe enough to go in. After all, no one was having luck finding him in the lair or the sewers. April and Casey were looking for him topside, and Karai was keeping an eye out, but so far there had been no sign of him. Mikey figured that there might be some clues in the lab itself.

“I’m going to check the lab,” Mikey said, sitting up and, interrupting his brothers.

“Are you sure you feel good enough for that?” Leo asked.

“Don’s not in there,” Raph said flatly. “We’ve already looked.”

Mikey looked at his brothers, more than a little irritated at them. “I know Donnie’s not in there,” he said, “but maybe there are some clues in all of the writing and stuff. And my head feels fine.”

Well, maybe his head didn’t feel fine, but it felt good enough, and Mikey had a feeling that there was something important in those notes.

“Just come right out if you start feeling bad,” Leo said.

“Yeah, yeah,” Mikey said, heading for the lab doors.

The faint smell of the chemical that had filled the lab lingered in the air, but it wasn’t enough to bother Mikey as he stepped further into the lab. It was more of a mess than he thought it had been, with papers everywhere and what looked like marker or grease pencil or something on the walls, the floors, the tables.

Mikey stared at the sloppy and hastily written words on the walls, decorating them along with equations of formulas Mikey couldn’t make sense of: faster, more, again, over, I can’t, work harder, no time, it doesn’t exists, keep pushing, make it happen, fool, idiot, not good enough, ugly, mutant. The words stretched over things, and Mikey’s brow furrowed. He didn’t like the way those words were here. Something about them struck Mikey as wrong, deeply wrong, and they made him uneasy.

The papers, notebooks, and books scattered everywhere made him uneasy, too. Some of the papers Mikey recognized as schematics and theories of Donnie’s although there were scribbles on some of them that didn’t look like his usual notes. Other papers he didn’t recognize at a glance, but he knew that it was Donnie’s handwriting. The books Mikey had seen on Donnie’s shelves before and had even flipped through a few. Some of the notebooks looked familiar, but there were some brown bound ones that Mikey couldn’t recall having seen before. It looked like Donnie had torn pages out of them, and Mikey wondered why.

He bent down, starting to pick up the papers and notebooks, stacking the books neatly. He scanned the writing as he tried to sort the other items for Donnie and look for clues. After a few papers and at part of one journal, though, Mikey ditched that idea, frantically searching through the papers for certain ones. He scanned them, reading them rapidly, and feeling his panic increase as he did. Finally, he couldn’t take it anymore. He gathered as many of them to himself as he could and yelled for his family.

“Sensei!” he cried out. “Raph! Leo!”

He heard their footsteps approaching, practically running as they came to the lab.

“Mikey?”

“Michelangelo?”

“Mike?”

Mikey whirled on them, his arms full of papers and journals, and his face full of distress. “Read them!” he said, thrusting it all towards his family.

“Mikey, what—” Raph started.

“Read! Them!” Mikey insisted. “Read them now!”

Raph and Leo exchanged a look, but Splinter reached out for one of the papers, silently reading it. Distress bloomed on his face, and at that, Raph and Leo exchanged a look. They reached out and grabbed some of the papers from Mikey’s arms as well, reading them over. Almost immediately emotion bloomed on their faces too. Shock, confusion, distress, anger, it was all there. Mikey all but shoved the journal into Leo’s hands, and dropped to the floor, continuing his look through the papers.

“This… this can’t be right,” Raph said, looking up from his bundle of papers. “He—he can’t really think that—”

“Whether he really thinks it or not, he’s thinking it now,” Leo said, staring at the paper in his hand.

“We must find him,” Splinter said firmly. “If not then I fear what these thoughts might lead him too.”

Mikey suddenly made a noise that they’d never heard him make before, and their attention switched to him. Panicked and tearing up, Mikey shoved a piece of paper into Splinter’s hands, before turning to cling to his brothers. They held him, confused as they watched Splinter read the paper.

Splinter sucked in a breath, and paled.

“Sensei?” Leo asked.

“What does it say?” Raph demanded.

“It says—” Splinter’s voice trembled. “It says ‘Maybe someone will find this. Maybe not. Does it matter? I don’t know why I exist. I shouldn’t exist. I don’t know why I’m here. I can’t do what’s needed. I can’t save anyone. I can’t help anyone. I can’t fix things. Anything I do, someone else could have done. Maybe I shouldn’t be here. I have instructions for everything ready. You will be able to go on without me, if I’m not here. I shouldn’t be here. I hope you loved me as much as I love you. Goodbye. I need to move on.’ And… and that is where it ends.”

Leo and Raph stared at Splinter in horror as Mike sobbed on them.

“Is… is he…” Raph said.

“We must find Donatello,” Splinter said, clutching the piece of paper in his hand. “Now!”

Mikey sniffed and pulled himself back together. “I’ll—I’ll call April and Casey,” he said, pulling out his t-phone.

“I’ll call the Mutanimals. Maybe Rockwell can find him,” Raph said.

“I’ll call Karai and Shinigami,” Leo said. “We have to find him. Before it’s too late.”

Donnie stumbled through sewers. He wasn’t sure where he was going, but he knew that he needed to leave. He winced as his head pulsed again, and he shook it. When had he eaten last? When had he had anything to drink?

…When had anyone bothered to check on him?

Maybe it wasn’t important for them to remind him to eat and drink. After all, if he was already not a good enough ninja when he did remember to eat and drink, then why waste food on him? Food was hard to get anyway, right? And… and didn’t animals sometimes push out the weak ones? Yeah, they did. He was just taking himself out of the equation before they could. Yeah, that made sense.

But where was he going to go? Donnie wasn’t sure, but this way seemed right.

He stumbled on, his head still hurting, and scratching at his itching, itching skin.

Raph had gone to the Mutanimals with a sample of the chemical Donnie had been working with. Rockwell had taken it and started analyzing it immediately. Now, a day later, he had contacted them, wanting to come to their home to get samples from all of them and explain what he had learned.

“It is a power chemical, one with psychotropic effects,” Rockwell explained. “I don’t think that is the main purpose of it, but it is one of the side effects that can happen if someone is exposed to it for too long or in intense doses.”

“What happens when that happens?” Leo asked.

“That’s what I’m trying to determine. However, I think that it will affect different species differently. The intensity and type of effects would be different in a human than, say, in a mutant turtle. If this has affected Donatello’s mind, then I would like to work on an antidote. To do that, I’ll need blood samples from all of you.” Rockwell opened a sample case and pulled out a syringe.

“Wait—why can’t you just get a sample from Sp—Slash?” Raph asked. “He’s a turtle too!”

“Yes, but he mutated from mutant turtle DNA. You and your brothers, however, mutated from human DNA. While Slash will have some of that, I would prefer to have something far more similar.” He held up the syringe again. “Now, who’s first?”

The three brothers looked at Splinter, and Splinter nodded. Leo stepped forward first, offering Rockwell his arm.

“You said that this chemical might affect different species differently,” Splinter said to Rockwell. “Do you know what those effects might be?”

“Not precisely,” Rockwell said. “I have theories, but without something to test them on, I can only make guesses as to the state of mind it might have put Donatello into.” He glanced at them. “There’s something you’re not telling me,” he said.

“Bro. Can’t you just, like, read our minds and find out?” Mikey asked as Rockwell drew blood from him.

“Yes,” Rockwell said, “but out of respect for your Sensei, I refrain from that around him.” Rockwell moved on to Raph. “Now what aren’t you telling me?”

None of the brothers said anything but looked to Splinter instead. Splinter took a breath. “We know how this is affecting him. Negatively. Come.”

Splinter led the way to the lab, Rockwell following as soon as he finished drawing Raph’s blood. Splinter opened the lab, and Rockwell moved inside.

“Oh,” he said, looking at the scribblings on the wall. “Negatively. Yes, I see.”

“And… this,” Splinter said, handing Rockwell the note that they had laid on the table.

Rockwell grew grim. “We will do all we can to find him, and find him soon,” he said. “I promise you.”

What a lousy, useless person he was. He couldn’t even figure out where to go. He hadn’t even packed himself any supplies. He’d managed to get a blanket, as he walked through an abandoned building, before he was chased out. He wore that around himself now as he stumbled along. It was harder to think than before, but maybe that was just because he was thirsty. It had rained, though, so he could find water. Maybe if he found water it would help.

Maybe he could be useful that way, even if it was just to himself.

Donnie stumbled, falling to his hands and knees, and his head spun. Where was he? Oh, right. There were buildings. And the sky. It looked gray. It was probably going to rain again. Rain meant water, though. That was important.

There was a puddle of water in front of him, sitting on the ground. Donnie pulled himself towards it and lowered his face down. He drank. This was good right? He was doing something right. If he could do this, maybe he could be good enough one day. He just had to… to… figure something out. Yes. He had to figure out how to be good enough, and then he could go back.

…Maybe this time, he would be good enough forever.

Mikey stared at the papers. Most of them had been torn from those journals they had found. A lot of the pages in those journals were unreadable now, but Mikey couldn’t help but wonder why Donnie had pulled these pages out, and just destroyed the others.

These pages had parts of them that were blacked out, and parts that weren’t. Something about them, though, looked deliberate, but Mikey couldn’t figure out what. Two days since Donnie went missing, no one had been able to find him. Not even April or Rockwell. What that meant worried Mikey, but it also made him want to try harder to find any clues to where Donnie might have gone.

Mikey rotated the papers around in his hands, and blinked in surprise when he realized that if he slid them just right, the parts that were left unmarked seemed to match up. Curious, Mikey went through the papers, seeing if any other parts matched up. He quickly started laying out the papers, spreading them out on the floor of the lab.

Raph walked by, and then backtracked, looking in. “Mikey? What are you doing? We’re about to look go look for Donnie again. You can’t keep playing with those papers, man. It’s not healthy.”

“There’s something here!” Mikey said. “Just give me a minute.”

“Mikey…” Raph started.

Mikey ignored him, instead setting the papers down, seeing the ways that the lines flowed together and connected. Leo soon joined Raph at the door to the lab, and Splinter came up behind them. Within about five minutes, Mikey had them all laid out and stared at them. So did his family.

Most of the sheets were blacked out, but what wasn’t stood out, bold and white. In big letters that stretched across all the sheets of paper, there was a single message.

WHY AM I NOT ENOUGH?

Donnie’s head was pounding. His skin itched and he couldn’t stop scratching it. His eyes felt dry, and he seemed to have trouble catching his breath. Was he getting sick? Was that what was happening? No, no, he couldn’t get sick. If he got sick, then how could he prove that he was good enough?

Wait—what if he did something none of them could do? What if he took out their enemies? That would mean that he was enough, wouldn’t it? It would prove it! He just had to find their enemies. That wasn’t too hard, though. It didn’t take him long to find some Purple Dragons. It was even easier to follow them.

And then, it was just a matter of taking down their headquarters.

He had a plan. He absolutely had a plan. He clutched his blanket around him. He’d be able to take them down. He just needed to do something about their defenses first. But that was child’s play, even if his head was pounding and he felt like he couldn’t walk without falling over. Maybe that food from the garbage hadn’t been good after all.

He easily figured out how to cut the power to their building. And then he went in. They didn’t like him being there, but that was okay. They weren’t supposed to like it. But maybe this had been a bad idea, because suddenly there was fire, and then Donnie had to escape out the back way. There wasn’t much room between the back of the building at the drainage culvert, though.

But he could do it. He absolutely could do it. And then, when he did it, he’d be enough. He’d finally be enough.

Donnie’s head swam, his limbs felt like jello, and his skin itched. Suddenly, staying out of the culvert wasn’t as easy as he thought it would be, and he stumbled. But this time when he stumbled, he didn’t stop stumbling, not until a very hard stop at the bottom.

He guessed he wasn’t enough.

Three days later, Slash called Raph’s t-phone. They had found him in the culvert behind a burned down Purple Dragon warehouse. Their family had been nearby, Splinter included, and they all rushed to the area.

When Raph got his first glimpse of Donnie, though, he had been sure that he was looking at his brother’s corpse. Covered in trash and debris, and an old blanket, pale and not moving, it had scared the whole family.

“He’s alive,” Slash said. “But he ain’t doing so good.”

Splinter knelt next to Donnie, reaching out a hand to him. “But he is alive,” he said. “And that is more than I had feared.”

Raph felt like weeping in relief.

“We will take him home,” Splinter said. “And attend to his injuries there.”

“I’ll call Rockwell,” Slash said. “Send him that way. I… I hope that Donatello will be okay.”

“Thanks, Slash,” Raph managed to get out, as Splinter carefully examined Donnie, and then picked him up.

“Casey’s bringing the party wagon around,” Leo said. “We can use that to get him home.”

“We will meet him,” Splinter said, and the small family made their way out of the drainage culvert, and to the road.

Enough. Not enough. Enough. Not enough. Not enough. Not enough.

I failed. I’m not enough. I’ll never be enough.

But I won’t stop trying. Maybe one day I’ll be enough somewhere.

“He’s dehydrated, so we’re putting an IV in for hydration. The lacerations on his skin look as if he scratched himself that deeply. They’ve been, of course, cleaned and bandaged. I’ve also administered the antidote that I developed, thanks to the samples.”

Leo listened as Rockwell explained what he was doing and why he was doing it. He couldn’t help but stare at Donnie even as Rockwell talked. His brother was in such bad shape.

“He has cracked ribs, and more than likely a concussion. His shoulder is definitely bruised. Those are all likely from the fall into the culvert. Hopefully, with the right care and the antidote, he will recover quickly.”

Rockwell paused, and looked at the small family, April and Casey with them. “At least… physically.”

“And mentally?” Leo asked. “Emotionally?”

Rockwell shook his head. “That, I cannot comment on. You’ll just have to wait until he wakes up to see. However, given the… state… of his mind beforehand I would suggest a twenty-four-hour watch on him, as a precaution.

Leo’s breath caught in his throat. A twenty-four-hour watch on him? A round the clock watch on Donnie, just to make sure that he wasn’t left alone, so that he couldn’t act on any dark thoughts.

It twisted Leo up inside.

“Thank you, Dr. Rockwell,” Splinter said. “I assume that we can call on you if anything changes?”

“Yes, please do. I would like to stay informed.”

“I’ll take first watch,” Leo said. “I… I want to.”

Splinter nodded. “Very well, my son.” He put a hand on Leonardo’s shoulder, and then left the room with Rockwell, the others following behind after a moment.

Leo let out a sigh, and at down in the rolling chair next to Donnie’s cot. For a few moments, he just stared at Donnie, trying to understand just what had happened. He couldn’t.

Mike had gathered up all of the papers again and had left them sitting in a neat stack not too far from the cot. Maybe he shouldn’t have, but Leo reached over and snagged them. He wanted to see just what was on these papers that Don had pulled out of those journals. He rifled through them, looking for entries that he could read, even if he sometimes had to squint through whatever Donnie had blacked out parts with. He found several that were somewhat readable, but one struck him more than any of the others.

“I try so hard. So hard! I do everything that’s asked of me! I keep this home running! I repair things when they break! I build the vehicles and machines! I take care of the appliances! On top of that, I’m trying to understand extra-dimensional alien technology that I have no frame of reference for! I’m trying to understand the complicated bio-molecular make-up of the mutagen and the anatomical and physiological effects it has on people! I am trying to wrap my head around so much, forgoing sleep and forgetting meals and what am I told when I fail? Work harder! As if I’m not already working myself to the bone! Work harder! Maybe he’ll be happy when I work myself in to the grave! Maybe then it’ll be enough!”

Leo put the papers down, taking in a deep breath. Had his brother really thought about working himself to death? Leo looked over at Donnie, still unconscious, still showing no signs of waking.

“I’m sorry, Donnie. I’m sorry. I—I should have realized how hard you were working. I should never have said that.”

The guilt ate at him, as he stared at his brother, slowly sifting through the papers until Raph came to relieve him.

Raph glared at the papers as he kept vigil at Don’s bedside. Leo shouldn’t have been reading them. He shouldn’t have. But he was, and there was something in them that had affected the turtle in blue deeply. But Raph wasn’t going to give into that urge. He wasn’t going to read those papers like Leo had. He wasn’t—

Oh, who was he kidding? He absolutely was.

Just like Leo, he had to rely a lot on piecing things together, and he was just about to give up out of frustration, when he realized that there was an entry he could read clearly. Eager to finally find something coherent, Raph pulled it towards him.

“B-team. Weakest ninja. Stupid genius. I feel like the insults come all of the time. Not to mention the slaps, the hits the whacks. And that’s not counting all of the times he’s mocked me for liking April. But if we tease him or throw something back in his face, then it’s as if we’ve committed a cardinal sin! Maybe if I had hours to commit to weightlifting or training then I could be as good a ninja as he is. Maybe if he’d give my plans half a chance before deciding they’re stupid and take too long, they’d actually work. Maybe if he’d just listen to me for once, instead of cutting me off, he’d learn something! But I’m sure he’d like the silence that would come with my absence more.”

Raph practically dropped the stack of papers, staring at them horrified before he vaulted his way to Don’s bedside. “I won’t do any of that no more, alright?” he said, desperate. “I—I won’t ridicule you, or call you weak, or hit you, even in fun! I don’t want silence from you! I just want you! Please, Donnie! Please!”

Raph stayed there, like that, until Mikey came to take his turn.

Mikey had no compunctions about reading the papers. He had already glanced at and read so much that he knew he was just going to keep reading the rest. So, as soon as Raph was gone, and Mikey was settled in, he picked up the stack of papers and began to read through them.

“Sometimes I feel a little guilty, because I know that he’s just lonely and he wants to spend time with someone, and our older brothers are too wrapped up in themselves to bother to pay attention to him. But at the same time, all I want is for him to listen to me and leave my things alone! I don’t care if he wants to use my headphones or get on a spare laptop to play a game. But I work so, so hard on my experiments and my inventions, and then he just waltzes in here and messes them up. Hours, maybe even days or months of research and preparations gone within seconds! The ingredients, ruined, used up, gone. It isn’t like I can just go to the store and get more. Heck, even if I were human, I couldn’t do that with most of these. I bet when I’m gone, he’ll just run rampant in here and destroy everything.

Mikey teared up, and put the journal down, reaching over to hold Donnie’s hand. He hadn’t been expecting that. “I won’t touch anything without your permission ever again, bro! I don’t want your stuff! It was never about wanting your stuff! I just wanted to spend time with you! But I didn’t show you that very well, did I?”

Mikey spent the rest of his shift with Donnie talking about all of the things he wanted to do with his brother, and how he’d do the best he could to not mess up any of Donnie’s experiments. By the time April came to sit with Donnie, Mikey had just about talked himself hoarse.

April had insisted on taking a turn. They were family to her, all of them, and she wasn’t about to not be there for them. She had heard about the words on the wall, and about the papers, but she hadn’t expected to see them. Curiosity got the better of her, and she picked them up, looking for anything readable.

“I’ll never be good enough. I know that. How can I be? She’s a beautiful girl who will no doubt grow up to be a beautiful woman. I’m just a mutant that lives in the sewers. I can’t offer her anything. Even when she does give me little signs of encouragement back, deep down I know that nothing will ever happen. She’ll grow up, move off, and forget about me. And who can blame her? Even if she doesn’t love me, I had hoped to be able to keep her friendship, at least. But I don’t even think that’ll be possible. If she moves away from here, far away from mutants and aliens and danger, I wouldn’t blame her. She’ll be better off without me, even if she’ll always have my heart.”

April was openly crying as she put down the papers. “I never—I never meant to lead you on! I just didn’t know what to do or how to react. I—” a sob escaped her, and she clutched the journal to her. “You’ll never lose my friendship, Donnie! I’m sorry! I’m sorry for all those times I was mean to you or blamed you. It wasn’t fair of me! But I’ve learned! I promise, you’ll never lose my friendship, Donnie!”

She was still crying slow tears when Casey came to check in and sent her on to take a break. Casey knew that he and Donnie had their issues. But he honestly liked the turtle, even if they did have more of a rivalry than anything. That whole thing with the Demon Car had proven that they could get along if they wanted to. He just wasn’t sure how to do that here.

He was curious, though, as to the papers that April had been holding, and he picked them up, quickly realizing what they were. He knew he should put them down, but somehow, he just couldn’t.

“He acts like he’s soooo much better than me. All he’s got going for him is that he’s human! That’s it! That’s the only advantage he has over me! Even if it’s a really big one. The biggest one, in fact. Big enough that it eclipses pretty much everything else about me. I mean, even he could give her a better life than I could. So maybe he has a reason to act like he’s better than me—because he is. In every way that matters in this life, he’s better than me. I’m sure he’d like it if I just disappeared. Then he wouldn’t have to waste his time putting down a mutant like me, when really, he shouldn’t even have to waste his time doing it.”

“Donnie, no!” Casey dropped the papers on the ground, sitting upright from his slouch. “No, I don’t think I’m better than you, I just—” he ran a hand through his hair. “I’m jealous of you, man. You’re smart, you’re skilled, you figure things out so fast. I’m the one that shouldn’t stand a chance here, not you. I—look. Look, if you come back from this, I promise I’ll tone down the rivalry, okay? And—and maybe we can do some stuff together, like work on the Shellraiser or the Party Wagon. I know we don’t always get along, but you’re my friend, too, Donnie. I’ll let you know that better.”

At least, he’d try. Needing to keep his hands busy, Casey pulled out the sketchbook he had, and began doodling. By the time Splinter arrived, startling Casey, he had ideas for half a dozen different vehicles drawn up that he and Donnie could work on together.

Splinter had desperately wanted to be at his son’s side, but he had, instead, let the others go, and used that time to reach out to April’s father. He had informed the man of what had happened and had asked for his advice going forward. It was good advice, and Splinter could only hope that it did not come too late.

He saw the papers lying on the ground and reached out to pick them up. He knew that it would be an invasion of his son’s privacy if he read them, but at the same time, if there was something in it that would help him understand how his son was feeling, then Splinter wanted that.

“I can’t measure up. I can’t be good enough. Nothing I do is or ever will be good enough, I see that now. No matter what I invent, no matter how much I make our lives more comfortable, no matter how much I try to train, I’ll never be good enough to please him. I’ll always fall short of the mark. I’ll never be a good enough ninja. I’ll never spend enough time training. I’ll never live up to the Hamato name. My inventions and accomplishments are meaningless. He doesn’t care about them. He never does. He never will. All he cares about is how good of a ninja I am, and I never make that mark. And if I can’t do that? Then why should I even be here?

Splinter took a deep breath in, feeling like he had just spend five hours in non-stop training. “Oh, my son. Oh, my dear, dear son.” He sat the papers aside and knelt at Donnie’s bedside. “I cannot express my grief that I made you feel that way. You are enough. You have always been enough. Your wonderful inventions and accomplishments fill me with pride, as I know those are things that most people cannot even begin to conceive of. I should have told you more. I will tell you more. I promise.”

Donnie came to slowly. His head was pounding, and he felt awful. He felt like he had been sick, been poisoned, and pulled a week’s worth of all-nighters all at once. He groaned, wanting nothing more than to go back to sleep until he felt better. But something wouldn’t let him. There were… voices? There was pain. Wait… what had happened to him?

His eyes felt scratchy and dry, but he pried his eyelids open anyway. It took him a bit to focus, but when he did, he could make out his brothers, his father, April, Casey, and Rockwell all gathered around him. He looked at them, confused.

“whhhh…”

He could barely get a whisper out, his throat felt so dry. Leo knelt next to his bedside, a mug in his hand with a straw in it. “Easy, Donnie,” he said, putting the straw in Donnie’s mouth. “Just take it easy. Don’t drink too fast or too much.”

“If that settles, I’ll get you some soup later,” Mikey promised. “Some chicken broth! None of my special touches!”

“How are you feeling, Donnie,” Raph asked, his voice unusually soft as he adjusted the blanket.

Donnie stared at his brothers, confused. He glanced at the others. April looked like she was about to cry, and Casey looked like he was one push away from some sort of emotion. Splinter looked down at him with more worry and compassion than Donnie had seen in a long time. What was going on?

“You were suffering from altered brain chemistry,” Rockwell said, and for once, Donnie was glad he could read his mind. “And it’s good to know you finally see the usefulness of me reading your mind.” No, never mind, Donnie took it back. “Regardless of how you feel about that, though, allow me to explain your situation,” Rockwell continued.

“You were working with some chemicals, when your ventilation system failed. Because of that, the chemicals you breathed in got into your bloodstream. They altered your brain chemistry enough that it muddled your thinking and brought out negative emotions. You, apparently, vandalized your own lab and ran off, with no one seeing you. We found you three days later, where you had passed out in a drainage culvert. It’s been four days since then. You’ve been unconscious. However, I managed to find the right combination to neutralize the effects of the chemical. You should be on the path to recovery.” Rockwell looked smug. “You may thank me now, even if it’s just in your head.”

Donnie did not have the energy to deal with that at the moment. Instead, he just looked at his loved ones, closed his dry, dry eyes, and fell back asleep.

The chemical took time to get out of Donnie’s system, and it took time for him to recover, too. His family was unusually attentive, although it did take a few days for Donnie to catch on to it. They were almost beside themselves making sure he ate, he drank, he got enough sleep, he was comfortable, that he knew they loved him. They made sure that he was helped up and down, that he didn’t scratch at his bandages as the chemical wore off, and that if he felt dizzy at all he was raced to a seat or a bed. They never left him alone. There was always someone nearby. Their behavior stumped him, and finally, one day, when April and Casey were over and fussing over him too, he just asked.

“Okay—what’s up with all of you?” he said.

“What do you mean?” Raph asked.

“I mean all of this,” Donnie said, sweeping his hand around. “We’ve not spent this much time together, well, ever, I think. I can’t turn around without someone being there. And you all seem insistent on both watching me like a hawk and making sure that my every need is met. Which is… weird. So. What. Is. Going. On?”

The tension in the room increased, and Splinter sighed, reaching into his robe and pulling out one of the journals and the loose papers. “Donatello, my son, we need to talk.”

Donnie looked at the journal and then back up at his father. “Talk?” he repeated.

“Yeah,” Mikey said. “Because, like, you know it’s all not true, right? You know that we do love you and stuff, right?”

“And that we want you here with us. No matter what,” Leo said.

“We’d never want to lose you, Donnie.” Raph added.

Donnie waved his hands in the air. “Wait, wait, wait, hold on, time out. What are you talking about?”

Splinter reached back into his robe and pulled out a folded piece of paper. “We found this note you left for us, Donatello.”

Donnie took the note with confusion, unfolding it and reading it over. “I… I think I remember writing this?” he said. “Or at least, something like this.” He looked up at his family, still confused. “But I don’t understand.”

“My son, we…” Splinter hesitated, and Donnie watched his father struggle for words. “You are important,” he finally said. “Not because of the things you can do, or the things you can’t do, but because you are my son, their brother, and if you were to… to take your own life… nothing could fill the hole that you left behind.”

Donnie blinked at his father. Then he blinked at his brothers, and his friends. And then he looked back at the paper. “Wait. Wait, wait, wait. You—you thought I was suicidal!?”

“Donnie, it’s okay,” Leo said, “It’s not something that you have to hide from us.”

“Yeah, we’re here to help you,” Raph said.

“We’re going to be right by your side,” Mikey said, “And make sure that you know how much you’re loved, bro.”

“We’re not going to abandon you,” April said firmly.

“We want you here,” Casey added on.

“You see, my son,” Splinter said. “No matter what you are feeling or going through, we are going to be here for you.”

“And we’re going to do a much better job of letting you know just how much we love you and appreciate everything you do,” Leo said.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Donnie said again. “Not that I don’t appreciate all of that, because I do, but I am not suicidal.”

Raph looked startled. “But the note—”

“The note was written when I wasn’t in my right mind,” Donnie said. “But aside from that, I never meant to kill myself. That much I remember clearly. I did meant to leave, though. That much is true.”

“Wait—but then what about the papers?” April said.

“The papers?” Donnie repeated.

“The ones from the journal,” Mikey clarified.

“From the journal?” Donnie repeated, obviously confused.

“These,” Splinter said, handing the journal and the papers over to his son.

Donnie took the, and flipped through the papers and the journal, understanding growing on his face. He groaned. “Oh, man, okay, I can see why you’d be concerned. No one was supposed to see these. They were for me only.” He frowned. “I admit that sometimes there’s more truth in the entries then I would ever want to admit to you—well, before now, I suppose—but these were like… like overflow.”

“Overflow?” Splinter asked.

Donnie nodded. “When Raph gets frustrated and has too many emotions, he takes it out on his punching bag, letting the overflow of emotions out that way. Leo trains, letting his emotions slide away with the concentration. Mikey creates. Food, art, projects, whatever it is, he creates. But those methods don’t work for me. I need to think through my emotions, or they just clog up. But sometimes what’s riding at the top of my emotions is too much to get past. So, I let it overflow into writing and into words. That usually takes the top off so that I can deal with the emotions—or at least suppress them.”

“So, the stuff in there isn’t true?” Casey asked. “It’s not how you feel?”

Donnie frowned. “I won’t say that. I still feel overworked. I still feel unappreciated a lot. I still don’t like being called the worst ninja. I still don’t like my things being messed with. I still feel upset at the thought of being left behind. I still feel like I’m not good enough more often than I want to admit.” He raised his head enough to look at Splinter, even if it was just for a few seconds. “I still feel like I won’t measure up, and I feel like no one cares about what I’m interested in most of the time.” He looked down at the journal. “I still feel alone sometimes.”

He lifted his eyes. “But—I have never once thought that killing myself would be the right answer. This,” he tapped the journal, “is my version of Raph’s punching bag. There’s truths in there. But that doesn’t mean that they’re as intense as it reads.”

There seemed to be a collective sigh of relief at that, and some of the tension bled out of the room.

“I am pleased to hear that, Donatello,” Splinter said. “Although it is clear that there are still things we need to address.”

“My father can help with that,” April said. “I know he’d be happy to.”

Donnie nodded his head. “Yeah,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “Look, I’m… I’m sorry, guys,” He looked at them. “I never meant to make you think I was suicidal. But I guess my head was just too full of chemicals to think clearly.”

“Yes,” Splinter said. “But that does not mean that our mouths did not give you unintentional ridicule.” Splinter stood, and came closer to Donnie, laying his hands on his son’s shoulders. “We have neglected our care for you, and even if it is not as extreme as we feared, we can do better.” He looked at the children in the room. “We can all do better with each other.”

“Great,” Raph asked. “I’m game. But how?”

Splinter was quiet for a moment. “We can being by taking some of the burden off of Donatello. I’m sure there are household repairs that we can learn to do. And from there, we will practice better ways to use our words.” He squeezed Donatello’s shoulders. “None of us should feel less than, chemicals in our brains or not.”

Donnie smiled up at his father, and then glanced at the rest of his family. “Thanks, Sensei,” he said. “Thanks guys.”

“Just never do this again, okay?” Raph said.

Donnie laughed. “Believe me, I don’t plan on it. In fact, I think I know what the first project you guys can help me out with will be.”

“A pizza making machine?” Mikey asked.

“Revamping my exhaust system in the lab,” Don said. “That way we never do have to worry about this happening again.”

“That,” Leo said with a smile, “Sounds like a good plan.”

#whumptober 2023 #no.24 #lyric #TMNT #TMNT 2012 #Fanfic #tmnt donatello #tmnt leonardo #tmnt raphael #tmnt michelangelo #tmnt splinter

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faofinn · 6 months

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Whumptober Masterlist 2023

Under the cut you'll find all 31 of our fics for this year's whumptober! Enjoy, please ensure you check the TW tags on each post before you read.

No. 1 "But now this room is spinning while I'm trying just to fill in all the gaps." (Equestrian)

No. 2 "I'll call out your name, but you won't call back." (Crime)

No.3 "Like crying out in empty rooms, with no one there except the moon." (Crime)

No.4 "I see the danger, it's written there in your eyes." (Crime)

No.5 "You better pray I don't get up this time around." (Tai x Hars, Crime)

No.6 "Do or die, you'll never make me, because the world will never take my heart." (Tai x Hars)

No.7 "I paced around for hours on empty, I jumped at the slightest of sounds." (Crime)

No.8 "I've got soul, but I'm not a soldier." (Brothers)

No.9 "Learning everything ain't what it seems, that's the thing about these days." (Crime)

No.10 "Can't you see that you're lost without me?" (Brothers)

No. 11 "All the lights going dark and my hope's destroyed." (ARCC AU)

No.12 "I haven't slept in days, but who's counting?" (Steve and Hars)

No.13 "It comes and goes like the strength in your bones." (Tai x Hars kids)

No. 14 "Feed me poison, fill me 'til I drown." (Crime)

No. 15 "I don't need you to help me, I can handle things myself." (Brothers)

No. 16 "Would you lie with me and just forget the world?" (Crime)

No. 17 "You're the lump in my throat and the knot in my chest." (Brothers)

No. 18 "I tend to deflect when I'm feeling threatened." (Crime)

No. 19 Body Modifications (Alt Prompt 5) (Fao x Hars)

No. 20 "People don't change people, time does." (Crime)

No. 21 "See the chains around my feet." (Brothers)

No. 22 "They never saw us coming, 'til they hit the floor." (Tai x Hars kids)

No. 23 Aftermath of failure (Alt Prompt 2) (Crime)

No. 24 "I've got a head full of chemicals, mouth full of ridicule." (Steve and Hars)

No. 25 "You're not delivering a perfect body to the grave." (Brothers)

No. 26 "Sometimes I get so tired, I don't even know myself." (Crime)

No. 27 "You drew stars around my scars, but now I'm bleeding." (Brothers)

No. 28 "We might not make it to the morning, so go on and tell me now." (ARCC AU)

No. 29 "I only sink deeper the deeper I think." (Tai x Hars)

No. 30 "It's okay just to say 'I'm not okay'." (Crime)

No. 31 "I thought that I was getting better." (Brothers)

#whumptober 2023 #whumptober masterlist #masterlist #whump writing #whump prompt #oc #fic

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razzle-zazzle · 6 months

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Whumptober Day 24: i've got a head full of chemicals, mouth full of ridicule

Goodbye note

3471 Words; Acrobat & the Spider

TW for the arachnophobic peeps bc gisu is a spider

AO3 ver

Gisu pushed open the door to the ballroom.

Or, well, it used to be a ballroom, but with the webbing and ropes and trapeze filling it, it wasn’t much a ballroom now. Maybe a bigtop? Indoor circus tent, now that was an idea!

Dion was lying down in the middle of the floor, his arms out to his sides as he stared up at the ceiling. It was weird, to see him so still—as long as Gisu had known him (which was both shorter and longer than she expected, huh) he had always been moving in one way or another, always full of anxious energy.

Well, what little she could pick up of his thoughts—damn curse, cutting her powers in half—was still anxious, at least. But it was more than his baseline.

Gisu walked over, coming to a stop a few feet away from Dion. His eyes flicked over to her, briefly, before returning to the ceiling.

“You okay?” She asked, sitting down. Well, more like letting her abdomen rest against the floor, all four legs splayed out around her, but it was the closest one could get to sitting when they were a giant spider monster, so it still counted.

Dion’s eyes closed, and he exhaled slowly.

The silence stretched on. Gisu pulled some spare thread from her spinnerets, twisting it between all four of her hands. Even so, her brain kept buzzing, latching onto Dion’s anxiety and bouncing it around in her head.

“They shouldn’t be waiting on me.” Dion said, finally, still staring at the ceiling. “They shouldn’t—I’m twenty-two. They don’t need to wait on me.”

Gisu said nothing. What could she say? She was the one who had asked Dion to stay here.

“And it’s not like I don’t get it.” Dion continued, “They’re worried. They have every right to be. But—” He swallowed, exhaling sharply as his jaw tightened and his brow furrowed, “I’m fine. I’m fine, and they’re—” He turned his head to look at Gisu, long brown curls pooling on the floor around him. “They’re losing money trying to find me.”

Gisu’s hands stilled as guilt washed over her. She’d done this. She’d asked Dion to stay here, with her, and now he and his family (his family, who he cared about so much it hurt) were suffering for it. This was her fault.

She should say something, anything to relieve the stress permeating the room. The room that they had been laughing and flinging themselves across only a day ago, chasing each other around and around without ever touching the floor.

Dion sat up, his legs folded in front of him. He wrapped his arms around his legs and rested his forehead on his knees, the buzzing anxiety of his thoughts hitting a crescendo. The bracelet that Gisu had made for him glinted in the light, and Gisu struggled to swallow a fresh gulp of guilt.

The silence stretched on. Gisu raised a hand to her mouth, gingerly tracing the edge of a chelicerae. Her fur had tickled him, when they kissed.

(But he had persisted anyway.)

Her chest had fluttered, when they’d kissed. She had felt on top of the world, she had felt wanted and pretty—

It was far from fluttering now.

“I miss them.” Dion admitted, his voice cracking. “I miss them all so much.”

“I’m sorry.” Gisu wanted to crawl into a hole and disappear. She’d done this. She’d asked him to stay. She’d separated Dion from his family. This was her fault.

“If there was just some way I could talk to them…” Dion stared off into space, his arms wrapped around himself as he slowly rocked in place. His head was a mess of static to what little psychic senses Gisu still had.

Gisu turned her head away. She couldn’t look at Dion right now.

(She had never wanted to stop looking at him, never wanted to let him go.)

“None of us can leave the mansion.” Gisu said. “Sam can only control animals within the walls.” They had thought to use her minions as a way to talk to the outside world, when the curse had first been cast. They’d quickly learned that there was no talking to the outside world.

Dion muttered something. Gisu only caught the words Lizzie and gossip and treats, but now Dion was staring off into space contemplatively.

None of them could leave the mansion. It was a fact of their curse that couldn’t be changed. There was no way for them to contact the outside world—chances were it had long moved on without them, moved on while they were all stuck.

“Maybe…” Dion stood, snapping Gisu from her spiral. He was snapping his hand like he was trying to jog his memory, long legs powering him in a quick pace around the room. “That might work.” He muttered.

Gisu tilted her head. “What might work?” God, she could watch him for hours like this, full of energy. He already made for great background noise when she was working, rambling and muttering and moving—but when he had an idea? When his eyes lit up and he started walking on his hands trying to think through a problem? It was fascinating.

Dion didn’t respond, too lost in whatever he was thinking as he made his way out towards the door. Gisu managed to catch the image of a letter in his mind—and then he was gone.

Gisu huffed, annoyance briefly overriding her guilt. He could let her help! Maybe he had gotten it in his head that he had to handle it all on his own—Gisu was no stranger to that kind of thinking, loathe as she was to admit it.

Gisu frowned, and looked back up at the ceiling. Maybe Dion was right to want to do this—whatever it was—himself, she thought, as she looked at the webbing and rope strung up across the room, at the giant improvised trapeze. It had started as Dion’s project, when Gisu had handed the room over to him to do with as he wished—and then she had gotten her grubby hands all over it and added webs all over. And it had been fun, running around up there, her spider paws gripping the ceiling while Dion flipped from perch to perch like a budgie on crack—

But was this what Dion had envisioned, when he’d started building his makeshift trapeze? Or had he wanted something closer to the home that he missed? Were her additions even wanted at all?

(He had kissed her like he wanted it, like he wanted her—

She wanted him. She wanted him to want her. And not just to break the curse.)

Gisu had asked him to stay—with the (false, but he still fell for it) threat of keeping his younger brother instead—and he had stayed, but it wasn’t fair. Not to Dion. Not to anyone.

Gisu clenched her hands into fists. “I did this.” It was just like her, really—always screwing up in one way or another. Whatever Dion was planning to do with his letter, it was only because Gisu had asked him to stay.

“What would you even do?” She asked the door. What was Dion even planning? There wasn’t really a way to get the letter out of the forest. None of them could leave the mansion.

Gisu paused. None of them could leave the mansion—

None of them except Dion. Dion, who had agreed to stay on Gisu’s request, but who wasn’t beholden to the curse. Dion, who loved his family so much it almost hurt to hear him talk about them. Dion, who Gisu wanted so badly just because he made her feel wanted—

Gisu stood. She had messed up, but that was just part of being an engineer.

It was time she did something to fix the mess she’d caused.

+=+=+=+=+

Am I really going to do this?

Gisu wrung her hands—all four of them. All of her fur was standing on end, all of her senses screaming danger at her. Yet still, here she was, one of her hind legs twitching in anticipation.

Still, she had to do this. It was for the best.

Steeling her nerves, Gisu pushed open the study door. There were quite a few studies in the mansion, truth be told, but there was only one that was really used regularly. And she could faintly feel Dion’s mental print in there, so it wasn’t even a guess—she knew he was in there.

And there he was, hunched over balancing on his toes in a chair, writing something on a piece of paper—the letter Gisu had seen in his thoughts?

Dion looked up at her entrance. He blinked, looking like a deer in headlights for half a moment before his face split into a wide grin. “Hey, Паучок.”

Gisu almost snorted at the nickname—almost. She couldn’t let herself get distracted; she had a job to do. She maneuvered into the room with some difficulty—truly, this mansion was not quite built for giant spider monsters—and stood there, trying to gather the words.

Dion turned back to the desk.

Right. It was now or never. If Gisu didn’t do this now, she’d never find the courage. “You need to leave.” Gisu started. It was for the best, really—Dion deserved better than some run-down mansion and a monster who only messed everything up.

Dion looked at her, his brow furrowed. “Why?” And oh, there went Gisu’s resolve—

No! She could still do this! It was for the best, even if it hurt!

“You can’t stay here.” Gisu continued, wringing her inferior hands nervously. “You shouldn’t stay here.” Dion wasn’t the kind of guy who could just leave his family behind, he deserved to see them again and put all of this behind him—

“What are you talking about?” Dion had come to stand in front of her, his hand cupping Gisu’s face just behind her chelicerae. “Is there some kind of danger?”

Gisu pulled away and shook her head. “Please, Dion.” She urged. “You need to leave. You need to go home.” Because this wasn’t his home, this was just a building she’d trapped him in, and he deserved so much better than some monster who only wanted him around to break her curse.

“What’s gotten into you?” Dion’s thoughts were quickly becoming static stress against Gisu’s head. She wished she could see all of his thoughts, could understand how he felt about this—no, that was invasive. Just another way that Gisu messed everything up.

“I’ve had some realizations, that’s all.” Gisu explained. “It’s not fair for you to be stuck here.” Not with her.

Dion frowned. “Gisu, I promised to stay here—”

Gisu grasped his hands in her superiors, her inferior hands still wringing. “But your family—”

Dion’s face fell. He looked away. “It’ll work out. They’re strong.” He murmured. A moment later, he looked back at her, resolve in his eyes. “I’m going to let them know I’m okay, or they’ll give up and move on.”

“But you miss them,” Gisu stressed, “You’re homesick, Dion, don’t try to deny it.” Dion needed to get out of here. It was for the best.

“Of course I’m homesick!” Dion leaned in closer, “But it’s okay, okay? I’m an Aquato. I can make this mansion home.” His eyes closed, and he ran his thumbs over Gisu’s hands.

Gisu pulled her hands away. “No you can’t.” She muttered.

“And why not?” Dion put his hands on his hips, “Why can’t I stay here?” He crossed his arms. “Well?”

“You need to leave.” Gisu repeated. It was for the best. “You should be home, with your family.” She stressed. “Please.”

“What part of ‘I’m okay here’ are you not getting?” Dion grit out. “Gisu, I’m not trapped here. Not with you.”

The words hit Gisu like a hammer. She flinched back, all of her resolve leaving her—

No. No, Dion needed to leave. It was for the best.

“No, you don’t get it!” Gisu grabbed Dion’s shoulders in her superior hands. “You’re not supposed to be here, Dion, you’re not supposed to be trapped in his hellhole with me.” She stared him down, all but begging him to just give up, “You could have left at any point. You should have left at any point.” He shouldn’t be here, stuck in this decaying mansion with her. It was for the best for him to leave. It was for the best.

Dion grasped her inferior hands in his. “But your curse—”

“Enough about the curse!” Gisu shouted. Like it would ever break, anyway. “You couldn’t break it even if you tried.” Wait, no, that wasn’t what she meant to say—

Dion’s eyes widened. “Then what was the point of me staying here?” He asked, his voice starting to rise in pitch. “What, are you not actually cursed and you’ve just been lying this whole time?”

“Maybe I have!” Gisu tore her hands away from his, throwing all four of them into the air. “It doesn’t matter!” Yes, good, she needed him to get angry, needed him to leave before she broke something she couldn’t fix. She loomed over him, straightening her forelegs to get as much height as she could—they were about eye-level, now.

“It doesn’t matter.” She shoved out at him with her superior arms. “Leave.”

Dion stumbled back several steps. “Gisu?” He sounded so small.

“You heard me.” Gisu growled. “Get out.” It was for the best. It was for the best to let Dion go.

“What is wrong with you?!” Dion shouted. “First you’re all over me and now you’re telling me to leave?” At once, his anger fell, worry filling his features. “Mio cara, what’s going on?”

“DON’T CALL ME THAT!” Gisu’s anger hit a fever pitch. She shoved, knocking Dion bodily to the floor and following him down. “You idiot.” She growled, her voice threatening to crack. Her eyes stung. She planted her superior hands to the sides of Dion’s head. “You shouldn’t BE HERE!” It was for the best.

Dion stared up at her with wide eyes. His chest heaved.

Gisu leaned in closer, all of her thoughts falling away. “I could crush your head.” She growled, “Right between my mandibles.” She grabbed his jaw with one of her inferior hands, holding it harshly. “I could bite you and you’d die from the venom in my fangs.” She tightened her grip, drawing a small gasp from Dion. “I could kill you. You shouldn’t be here.” She let go of Dion’s jaw. His head fell back to the floor, and his eyes slipped shut as he wheezed a shuddered exhale.

“Hurts, doesn’t it?” Gisu asked, her anger pounding in her skull. “Of course it does—I’m a monster.” She grinned, anger baring her teeth. “So leave.”

Dion stared up at her, his eyes wide.

“Run away.” Gisu snarled, still looming over Dion. “Run away to your real family and let them make it all better for you.” She leaned in closer—

The room spun as Dion’s fist slammed into her face, forcing her up and backwards. Dion scrambled out from under Gisu as she held her head in her hands, stars dancing across her vision.

She looked up at him. Dion had a hand held over his mouth, absolute horror in his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he started, “I didn’t mean—”

Gisu growled. “Get out.”

Dion wasted no more time arguing with her.

His footsteps faded out down the hallway, on and on until Gisu couldn’t hear them, couldn’t feel the vibrations in her legs.

She exhaled shakily, and stood.

The room was so quiet, now.

Still, Gisu reminded herself as she made her way to the door, it was for the best.

Even if it didn’t feel like it.

+=+=+=+=+

Gisu grunted, driving her screwdriver into the head of the screw. Taking things apart and putting them back together was supposed to be therapeutic. And it was, but—

Gisu growled, burying those thoughts. It was her fault, anyway—she was the one who went and got attached to something she could never have.

“Uh, hey, Gisu?” The radio next to her workstation crackled to life, Morris’ voice coming in steady. “Why did Dion just climb over the wall?”

Gisu regarded the radio for a moment, before returning to the broken clock in her hands. “He left.” She said.

The radio was silent for a moment.

“Wh—why?” Morris asked. “I thought he was all over you?”

“He got homesick.” Gisu explained, “So he left.” It was for the best, anyway. Dion deserved so much better than a monster.

“Okay, no way.” The radio crackled. “I know what it sounds like when you’re hiding something.” Morris accused, “So spill.”

“I made him leave, is that what you wanted?” Gisu threw one of her superior hands out as she spoke. “He was better off back with his family, anyway!”

There was silence for a moment. Then—

“Gisu.” Morris’ voice was edged with incredulity. “What the fuck.”

Gisu grumbled. “It’s over.” She muttered. “He’s gone.”

“No, genuinely,” Morris continued, like Gisu hadn’t spoken at all, “What is wrong with you?”

Gisu froze. “What are you talking about?” She’d fixed the problem. It was for the best.

“I’m talking about the fact that you chased away the one good chance of breaking the curse because what, you were too afraid to confront your own feelings?” Morris’ voice crackled with static, like nails against the chalkboard of Gisu’s ears. “Oh, sure,” He went on, “You’ll read all your romance novels, write all your silly self-insert fanfiction, but the moment you find yourself caring about something that isn’t mechanical you get too scared to do anything but shove it all away.”

Gisu snarled. “Shut up! You don’t know what you’re talking about!” Dion’s family was important to him, it wasn’t fair to keep him here—

“Ha!” Morris snorted. “Please! You barely even care about the rest of us!” He accused, the dials on the radio darting back and forth. “I bet the only reason you care about me is because you can just pretend I’m another one of your stupid machines!”

Gisu gasped. “I care!”

“Really?” Even without a body, Morris’ agitation came through loud and clear. “Because I’m pretty sure chasing away the one solid chance for me to get my body back is the opposite of caring!” The radio made a slamming noise, then a string of honks and whistles—Morris was getting really worked up, now.

“We’re all cursed!” Gisu slammed her inferior hands on the table. She crossed her superior arms, giving up on the broken clock laid out before her. “Stop making this about yourself!”

Morris’ voice was incredulous. “I’m the one making this about myself? Have you looked in a mirror?” He huffed, “Of course you haven’t.” He muttered. “Because then maybe Lizzie could knock some sense into you.”

“I’m not the one who needs sense knocked into them.” Gisu shot back. “I keep this mansion running, you know!” She started counting on her fingers. “I keep the lights powered, I keep the heaters from falling apart—I’m the one who makes sure all these radios actually work!” Yeah, Adam and Sam handled the firewood and keeping the mirrors clean, but still. Without Gisu, there’d be nobody to power and fix the radios.

“That doesn’t mean you get to chase away the one chance we had of getting uncursed, Gis!” Morris yelled back. “You don’t get to make that decision for us!”

“Oh, like there won’t be other chances.” Gisu snarled through gritted teeth. “You don’t need to be so impatient.”

Morris sighed. “I want my body back, Gisu.” His voice was heavy with grief. “I want to be able to see colors again, and not just my own noise reflected back at me.” The radio clattered. “But you don’t get that, do you? You still have your body.” He laughed hollowly. “Your curse is that you’re ugly.” Morris remarked, “And the guy you liked didn’t even care about that.” The radio went silent, then, leaving Morris’ remark to hang in the air like smoke.

Gisu yelled, sweeping the radio off of its stand. It fell to the floor with a clatter, but remained silent.

Gisu stared at it, her chest heaving. Her throat got tight, all four of her eyes started to sting—

Fuck. As much as she wanted to deny it, Morris was right. She’d messed up. She’d messed everything up.

Gisu let herself fall to the floor, arms curling around herself. “Fuck.” She sobbed.

She’d fucked up. But it was too late, now—Dion had already crossed the outer walls. There was nothing Gisu could do to fix the mess she made.

She laughed darkly. “At least I can’t fuck it up worse.” Doing so would be hard—even for her.

That fact wasn’t a comfort.

#whumptober2023 #no.24 #goodbye note #psychonauts #zaz writes #arachophobia tw #bc gisu is a spider #acrobat and the spider au #gisu nerumen #dion aquato #morris martinez #the other interns are all kind of mentioned but those three are the ones who actually show up #i've had morris' ugly line ready to go for SO LONG #so happy i finally get to use it #he's not the only one who's going to end up yelling at gisu btw!!#which is uh. guys gisu gets it she understands that she fucked up #also! i used the terms ''superior'' and ''inferior'' for gisu's arms bc those are the anatomy terms for above and below!!#so her superior arms are the upper pair. and the inferior are the slightly-smaller-but-still-beefy pair below the other #also yes dion was turned on when gisu was practically laying on top of him #she didn't notice bc she was too lost in the trauma sauce #EDIT 10/25/2023: FOUND OUT SPIDERS DON'T HAVE MANDIBLES #AND WHAT I WAS DESCRIBING AS SUCH ARE ACTUALLY CHELICERAE #UPDATED TEXT TO REFLECT THIS #gisu still calls them mandibles in her dialogue tho bc characters can be wrong about things #no idea if she has pedipalps or not (yet)

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