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phoebepheebsphibs · 18 days

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Double-Mutated Mikey

Chapter 16: Genetics

Continued from the short story written by @boots-with-the-fur-club

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Mikey is in the Interaction Room again. He's waiting for something to happen. There is a staticy feeling in the air, the lights keep flickering. Mikey can sense unease from the evil humans. Instinct has been taking charge more often than not. Mikey's head is getting worse... It doesn't remember things. Mikey can't remember how he became like this very well. Mikey can't remember what he did the other day. Instinct was in charge all of yesterday, so he probably knows. But Mikey can't recall anything. Mikey's not even sure if 'Mikey' is his name. The only reason he thinks it could be is because the evil humans in white will sometimes call him that. But when they say it, it almost sounds like a joke.

Mikey sits patiently, waiting. Wondering. He's never been made to wait this long. At least, as much as he can recall.

There is a buzzing noise, mechanical whirr. A soft rumble through the building. The lights flicker again. A panel opens and a robotic arm with a pellet gun descends from the ceiling. It points at Mikey --

He prepares himself, getting into a quick stance.

-- and the gun turns around and points at a corner in the room. It swivels and points at another. It shoots a pellet. The shot is lazy and the pellet weakly flicks off the wall.

Mikey tilts his head in confusion. What is happening?

The gun swivels round and round, shooting randomly before being forcefully retracted into the ceiling, snapping and shortcuirting as it disappears. Not one second after, another panel opens, and another machine lowers, but it stops halfway and starts shooting out sparks before it snaps off and crashes to the ground, almost crushing Mikey.

He yelps in surprise before jumping away at the last moment.

There is a crispy static sound and speakers in the room start going off.

'*CCCCCRRRSSSSHHHHH* -- Wha-- *CCKKKKHHSSPH* -- last time we mutate an electric eel -- *FFFFFSSHH* -- stupid EMP powers -- *KRRRAACKLE*'

Mikey is very confused.

A panel opens from the wall, and a wolf mutated with a rat walks in, sees Mikey, and charges.

Instinct doesn't ask to take over. He just does.

He dodges the wolf and studies its attacks and looks for any weaknesses it has. Underbelly is weak. Strike there. Instinct's tail sharpens and he --

Another panel by the floor opens up. After a second, a curious new mutant saunters in.

What? They've never sent in two at a time before!

The wolf takes advantage of the fact that Instinct/Mikey is distracted and bites the tail. Instinct roars, wraps the tail around his mouth, and whips him into the wall. Instinct turns to this new mutant, an armadillo. The shell looks somewhat similar to his with its jutting scutes and scales that fold over each other. But it smells bad. Not just nasty, but VILE. There's something wrong with it. It smells like disease.

'*KKKRSHSHSH* What are you doing?! -- I thought we were putting the armadillo in quarantine! -- has leprosy -- idiot -- I didn't do it -- something's wrong with the controls! *CCCXSHRSH*'

Instinct stays away from the diseased creature, but the wolf sees it and attacks. The armadillo balls itself up into its protective casing, a green ooze beginning to penetrate the outer shell. The wolf snaps its jaw on the armour, ingesting the poisonous ooze. It growls and begins to play with the round thing, scratching it and kicking it like a ball... He kicks it towards Instinct!

Instinct hisses and dashes away from it, clambering up the wall. He watches as the wolf starts to cough and turn a sickly green colour. The armadillo uncovers itself and watches. It saunters over to the wolf, who is getting greener and more sickly by the second. The dasypodidae glares at the canis lupis and shoots out the ooze at him. It sizzles against the wolf, who howls in agony before toppling over and decaying at a rapid pace. Instinct watches in disgusted horror as the wolf becomes nothing more than putrid acid-drenched roadkill.

Instinct needs to kill it. Fast. He dashes down to the smashed machine and grabs the whole thing -- heavy as it is -- and throws it on top of the mutant armadillo. The creature balls itself up just before the heap of heavy scrap can crush it.

Instinct wonders if that did the trick. The armour looked pretty tough...

Before the question can be answered, the lights go off. Then on. Then off again. Instinct hears three wall panels open, and sees three-- no, FOUR pairs of eyes glowing at him. This is going to be a long day...

'*KKKKKRCK* Oh, sh--SHHHHKK*'

Instinct activates the heat vision and sees that there are three creatures coming into the room... One is small and slithering. One is taller, a long snout and tail, but walking on its hind legs. The last one is a two-headed beast. Well, this should be fun...

The lights come back on, and several panels from above open, turret guns descending and misfiring in dozens of directions. Instinct reactivates the normal vision. There is a snake, an anthropomorphic crocodile, and a fox with two heads. Instinct challenges them to come closer.

They make the mistake of accepting the challenge.

Instinct dances around them, dodging the pellets and bullets as they all simultaneously charge. The two-headed fox is fastest, but clumsy; its vision impaired by the extra set of eyes that throw its depth perception and placement off. It misses Instinct by a mile, running straight past him. The crocodile runs on his stubby little legs with a gurgling snarl. He goes for Instinct, but is shot in the face and a pellet strikes his eye. The snake is swift, slithering straight for him and lunging. Instinct jumps over the serpent and lands atop the bigger reptile. He grabs onto the crocodile's mouth, gripping the jaw and pulling hard, making the mouth go wider and wider and --

SNAP! CRACK!

The croc falls to the floor, Instinct having broken its jaw.

The fox(es) lunge at Instinct again, snarling and yapping and barking. It misses yet again and runs into the wall.

The snake curls back and goes to attack, jumping up and snapping at him, fangs dripping with venom. Instinct grabs it by the neck, but it slithers out and coils around his throat, choking him. He grips it as tightly as he can, but it keeps slipping out of his grip... The fox returns and jumps once more at Instinct.

Instinct holds the snake's body out and the fox rams into it, snapping his teeth into the serpent's slim body and clamping down hard.

The reptile hisses in anger and throbbing pain, releasing its hold on Instinct's throat and wriggling around to get free. While the two mutants are distracted, Instinct turns his tail into a spiked mace and rams it into the chest of the fox. The poor, pathetic animal is struck down.

The serpent manages to wriggle itself free, bleeding profusely and incredibly infuriated. It turns back to Instinct.

From behind him, the pile of scrap metal starts to move. The armadillo emerges, the armour having protected it.

From ahead, the snake.

From behind, the armadillo.

They both leap forwards.

Instinct must act fast.

He ducks quickly and barely manages to miss the serpent, grabbing it by the tail and swinging it round, throwing it straight at the diseased armadillo.

The snake bites the armadillo on the neck, filling it with venom while ingesting the victim's poison. Both miserable creatures fall to the floor. The turrets start to deactivate and slide back into the ceiling.

Instinct exhales deeply, hoping that no more monsters will come in --

Another panel opens. Of course.

But the eyes are different. The smell is, too. It smells like...

Human.

A large, lumbering figure makes its way into the room, groaning miserably. Instinct's eyes go wide.

Human...

The human stares at Instinct. It growls low and angrily.

'*SCCSRRRSH* -- Wait, what is this?! -- test subject -- meant to take them down to the basement for surgery -- storage room -- Get them out of there before he kills it!! *KKKSHKSH*'

Instinct growls low. There is something different about this creature... it is susceptible. It doesn't think for itself. It takes orders...

Instinct/Mikey can feel some strange connection between themselves and this odd malformed human. He recognizes a smell. It matches one of his own... the biggest smell. Krang smell. Mikey doesn't know what that smell means yet. But Instinct knows. Instinct knows all.

Instinct knows that this human smells like krang.

Instinct clicks at the creature. He growls a command at it, testing something...

The human turns its head. It peers at Instinct carefully. Instinct clicks again. The human sits down.

'*KRRSH* ...What the...?'

Instinct/Mikey commands the krangified human to follow his bidding, ordering it to slink back into the hole from whence it came. The creature does. Instinct/Mikey watches as it sits in the dark, waiting. When it tries to come back out, he snarls at it, and the krangified human slinks back into its room.

Soon enough, the panel slips closed, and the door opens behind Instinct. Three scientists rush in, followed by practically an armada of guards.

The scientist known as 'Dr. Timothy' runs to the front with 'Dr. Chaplin', and the two stare in shock and awe at all the carnage and wreckage. But Instinct feels they are more concerned with how he controlled the mutated human...

Dr. Chaplin smiles.

"Well, I think this is something we can use..."

Donnie stares at Mikey, the box turtle's tongue hanging over his lip in that silly expression he would make on occasion before the mutation happened. The 'blep', he called it.

Mikey sits in front of the giant horde with the biggest grin on his face, beaming as if he'd just shown them how he'd trained a new puppy to roll over. He is somehow oblivious to the horrific danger he was just in...

Leo steps forward nervously and starts to pull Mikey away from the krangified crowd.

Mikey is confused. Didn't he do a good job? Aren't they proud of him? Are they still mad at him?

They don't look mad. They look scared. Scared of the horde, and scared of...

Mikey?

Monster.

Mikey churrs at Leo, furrowing his brow anxiously.

"Lllleee-oh? Why Leo s-s-scared-d-d? Mikey do good?"

"Y-you did... uh, you did good, you did great," Leo stutters, not looking at him but keeping his gaze glued to the zombie mob. "April, Cass, I'm going to open a portal now. You take Mikey, drop him off and grab the formula."

Leo sounds so scared. His voice is soft and chilled and shaky. His arms wobble as he carefully drags Mikey away. Mikey doesn't want Leo to be mad at him again, so he follows his directions. Leo's hands shake as he slices the air and creates a blue portal. Mikey is led through the blue light, and instantaneously finds himself in the lair again!

Casey is pacing back and forth with a phone in his ear as he redials the guys. He yipes when the trio jump in.

"Come on, pick up, pick-- Ah!! What -- Mikey?! How, what, I was just calling Leo --"

Casey stiffens when he sees Cassandra. Mikey notices this, but the others are moving quickly and are focused on their mission and don't pay any mind to him.

Mikey sniffs around, confused. How did he get back to the lair so fast? The sensation from the portal is familiar, and Mikey's mind foggily recollects a memory of him and Leo jumping through these blue things a lot...

April and the other human Cass rush away to Donnie's lab, leaving Mikey alone in the halls with Casey, who slowly creeps to him and starts to check him over as he scolds him.

"Mikey, what were you thinking running off like that? I was worried sick, I thought you might've gotten lost, or recaptured, or hurt -- and what was I supposed to do when Leo came and saw you were gone?! They already hate me here, they're too scared of me to talk to me like I'm a normal person, and now I'm the guy who almost lost their brother --"

Casey freezes, realizing he's said too much.

"Uh... don't, please don't repeat any of that to the guys. I just... I'm struggling to fit in here, and I lost the one most important thing to this family. I'd get disowned if I wasn't already estranged to them..."

Mikey chirps at him sadly, nuzzling his beak against Casey's chest.

"S-s-sooor-r-r-ry..."

Casey sniffles and hugs him.

"It's okay, Mikey. Just... don't ever do that again?"

Mikey beeps at him with a nod.

Cass and April run past the two of them, carrying several boxes of glowing blue vials.

"We'll be right back, just gotta take care of something!" April shouts as they go through the portal again.

It stays open, and Mikey wants to see what they're going to do --

But Casey pulls hims away softly, saying something about needing to clean him up from the mud on his claws.

Mikey is taken to the bathroom, his hands and feet cleaned until they hear the clambering of feet against stone. The others have finished with whatever it was that was so important and returned. Mikey skedaddles out of the bathroom and greets them happily, if not a bit nervously. He thinks they may still be a bit sore about his escape...

But they don't look mad, they all look tired and wrung out. Donnie's hands are stained with glowing blue.

"...That giant squirt gun you made with your ninpo was perfect, Dee," Leo compliments, stretching his back out. "It got pretty much all of em at once..."

"Yes, well, I need to go and wash this toxic elixir off of my hands..."

Mikey runs up to Leo with a happy chirp and rubs his face against his fingers. Leo strokes his head gently.

"Hey, Mikey. Glad to see you're okay... we're gonna have a talk about you running out, though."

Mikey whimpers, but is relieved that Leo's anger and scoldings will be over soon. The sooner the better. He wants Leo to be happy with him again... He doesn't like the sadness that hangs around him, it reminds him too much of... of... of what?

Nevermind, it doesn't remind him of anything at all. He just doesn't like it.

Mikey then goes to Raph, asking for head pats from him, too. Raph smiles and rubs his thumb across Mikey's forehead.

"That was pretty impressive, big man," he chuckles. "I didn't know you could do that... How did he do that, Donnie?"

Mikey runs over to his third brother, circling around him and asking for head pats as the genius does his best to explain hypotheses and theories.

"Well, it seems that Mikey's... erm, 'leading genome' allows for him to sort of... control the others that also carry the same genome. My guess is that Mikey could be something like... the alpha male of the species."

"Alpha male?" Raph asks. "So, they saw him as the leader of the pack?"

Mikey whines quietly, waiting for Donnie's headpats. He lifts his head up to nuzzle against his fingers.

"I think so," Donnie says. "I'd have to do some more studies of the DNA sample, and I'd much prefer--"

"AAAAGH!"

The room is struck silent as Mikey screams in pain, pulling away from Donnie's stained hands, the glowing blue liquid sizzling against Mikey's forehead. He tries to wipe it away, but it burns his hands. Mikey screams and cries, the others screaming in chorus as they rush to help. April wipes the toxins off with her sleeve, Leo runs to his aid and inspects the injuries, Raph goes to pick him up and carry him somewhere safe, Casey goes to get water and rags, Donnie reels back and keeps his hands far away from his brother, Cass helps to direct them all and keep the calm.

Mikey sobs as his hands smoke softly, the blue liquid like acid against his skin. The burning against his head continues, the pain immense. It's searing through him, reverberating throughout himself. Casey Jr. returns and helps Leo start treating the wounds, cleaning the remaining smudges away with water as quickly as possible. The acid is gone, but the pain lingers for eternity. Mikey is lost in the deafening sound of everyone shouting orders at each other, everyone touching him at once, lifting him up and carrying him away.

Mikey squeezes his eyes shut and cries, the tears seeping through as the burning lingers...

Just stay still. Let it happen. Let it happen, and let it linger, then it will end. Just let it happen...

Mikey is laid down on a table or a bed, he's not sure. Leo commands the room, giving orders and instructions that Mikey doesn't understand. Salves and ointments are applied. A sharp stinging starts in his forehead where the burn is, the same sting pricks his hand. The sting fades, as does the burn. Mikey's head and hand go numb. His claw is swathed and a bandage pressed against his head.

As the doctoring continues, the room quiets and calms...

Mikey's wrists are locked into place. He cries and weeps. He knows it won't change anything. He knows they won't understand, or won't care...

Needles are pressed deep into his skull. Injections are made.

Tiny wires are set against his arms. They shock him, over and over and over again.

Syringes dig deep into his chest. Fluid fills him up, burning his intestines like fire.

Someone grabs a scalpel and begins to make incisions. Blood leaks from the open wound.

Something pink and wriggling is shoved onto him, into him. It integrates into his flesh, becoming one with him. It crawls under his skin, it crawls into his mouth, his eyes, his nostrils. He suffocates from it. He gags on it. He chokes from it. It won't kill him. But it sure wants to see him suffer...

Mikey hates this. Mikey hates himself. If he weren't him, maybe he wouldn't be punished like this...

Mikey lets it happen. There's no point in fighting, it will just make it worse. Mikey just lets them hurt him, slice him, change him, kill him. Mikey lets the pain etch away at his mind, scraping him away piece by piece. Destroying him.

Mikey waits for the pain to end.

It never does.

Leo wipes the tears from Mikey's face, trying to calm him down.

"I'm so sorry, bud. I know it hurts," Leo whimpers.

Leonardo wants to cry so badly. He wants to sob. He wants to scream and shout out his pain and frustrations at the universe for letting this happen to him, to Mikey, to everyone --

"This is my fault," Donnie moans. "I should have realized that the formula would hurt him. I should have been more careful. I should have --"

"I shouldn't have let him escape," Casey interjects. "If anything, it's my fault for letting my guard down..."

"No," Leo corrects. "if I'd just stayed behind, or had Raph or Donnie stay behind, then he would have been okay, he wouldn't have run off. If I'd -- if I'd been better, smarter, s-stronger... I..."

"It's no one's fault but mine," Raph weeps quietly. "I took him to the EPF in the first place. I did this. It's my fault."

"Oh please," Cass scoffs. "All this blame game is getting ridiculous! You all did the best you could! You made mistakes, sure, so WHAT?! It's not like you intentionally tried to hurt him! You're all so focused on what you did wrong that you can't focus on how to make it right or how to move past it!"

The three turtle boys stare wide-eyed at Cassandra Jones.

"If you want things to get better, act like they will! And soon enough they will! Half of this whole thing is a mind game you play with yourself! Do you want to lose?! No! Do you think that after I quit the Foot, I moped around like a pathetic weakling?! NO!! I knew that my mistakes were big, but I could work past them and make up for everything! I could do something amazing if I put my mind to it, and I am! So stop acting like there's nothing you can do to change things, and start actually changing things! Starting with your perspective!"

The boys hang their heads sheepishly. Casey stares at his future mother in amazement.

"Yeah... Cassie's right," Raph mumbles. "We can't keep focusing on what we did wrong. We need to move forwards, not backwards."

"Darn right I'm right!" Cass whoops. "I'm always right! HAH!"

Raph smiles and chuckles softly. Leo sighs and sits besides Mikey, rubbing his face as the baby brother finally relaxes.

"Okay. Move forward. Got it."

Donnie's gazes diverts to an empty corner of the room as he ponders a few things. He ponders how this mutation is far beyond what he expected. He ponders how everyone -- his brothers, Splinter, April, Mikey, everyone -- is counting on him to reverse the process.

He ponders how he's been pondering all night, every night.

He ponders how this is not his area of expertise; he's the tech guy! Sure, he know some science facts, he knows a few trivia tidbits about animals and stuff, but not enough to reverse engineer a cure all by himself! He ponders how he has no idea what to do or where to start.

He ponders about going backwards... back to the beginning. To the first mutation.

Donnie leaves the room and pulls out his phone...

Draxum is in the process of remodeling his home lab. After the events of the invasion, Draxum managed to help protect the Yokai from the krang dogs that made their way down into the Hidden City, and in doing so cleared his name and reputation. As a reward, his criminal record has been expunged.

He directs several Yokai on how to repair his ancestral home and build four additions for his surrogate sons. He is secretly eager to see Michelangelo's reaction to the room he has planned for him... whenever he gets back, that is. They told him about the mission gone awry. Draxum had offered to 'take care of' the humans in the building, but they'd declined. Ah well. Some other time, then. But it has been a little over a week or so since then, and Draxum has received no word...

Draxum's human communication device known as a 'cell phone' begins to buzz. It is Donatello. Draxum answers.

"Yes? What do you need?" Draxum asks plainly.

Donatello only ever calls him if he needs something.

"Hey," he mumbles through the speakers. "What are you doing now?"

"Rebuilding my lab from the last time it was blown up," Draxum grumbles. "By, who was it -- oh yes... you and your family."

"Draxum--"

"Of course, I'm willing to let that slide, since my goals at the time were less than cordial or moral. By some standards."

"Drax."

"Although, I'm sure it weighs on you and your brothers that you single-handedly destroyed the home and livelihood of one whom you might consider a mentor, or creator. So, if you wanted to repay old debts, you could always come and help --"

"DRAXUM!" Donnie yells, then sighs with deep exhaustion. "Would you... like to come and see Mikey?"

Draxum pauses.

"...He is home?"

"Yeah, we got him back two nights ago. He's recovering. I texted you about this."

"I have no idea what a text is," Draxum groans. "But yes, I would like to greet him."

"Okay. But before you come, I need to let you in on a few things," Donnie says quickly. "Mikey has gone through a tremendous amount of trauma, and will most likely not recognize you. And you will probably not recognise him at first, either. Be careful, be gentle, speak softly. Secondly..."

Donnie pauses.

"...I need you to bring everything you have on genetic studies and mutations."

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jaybirbie · 10 months

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TW: CHILD ABUSE/EXPERIMENTATION.

DPxDC Crossover prompt idea.

A more twisted Jack and Maddie Fenton were fascinated by Vlads' accident.How Ecto affects the human body.

Vlad didn't quite live through their first rounds of studying. But it was enough to gather that it can bond to cells,but it also decays them and perhaps if introduced at the early stages if development would bond better or sm.

Jazz was the first successful attempt. Maybe 30%

Danny, however, was their main prize. 50% The height of their research! (Maybe they try cloning him. Dani?)

This has an effect on them. It makes them get sicker as they grow. Slowly dying. I'm talking decay, losing/sewing back on limbs, practically a zombie. Despite being hindered by the slowly dying, they are very hard to kill, needs to be brain death or they can keep going.

Turns out dying and becoming halfas will fix the issues, but they don't know that.

And neither due the Bats who have just stumbled upon some very angst filled adoption bait.

#dpxdc #danny phantom #dc x dp #danny fenton #dp x dc prompt #batfam #batman #jazz fenton #evil jack and maddie #bad parents jack and maddie #tw abuse #tw experimentation #dp prompt

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xysidhequeen · 8 months

Text

New Ficlet

TW: Death, Murder, Blood, Experimentation, Vivisection, Dissociation, Child Abuse

RedredredredsomuchredsomuchBLOOD.

Danny backed away, hands shaking. His foot slipped on the blood mess on the floor. He went down, a keening whimper escaping him as the fall jolted his wounds. His hands went up to grab at his chest, at the gaping wound and flapping skin. He froze, looking at the dripping red liquid coating his hands and arms like gloves.

His hands shook and he could feel a wail crawling up his throat. He didn't look up, didn't look at his…at Jack and Maddie at their…bodies. He killed them. They're dead. DEADdeaddeadhekilledthem. He didn't look at them.

Some cold part of his mind whispered to him. The voice sounded like Jazz. And– oh Ancients what would she think? What would Sam and Tucker think? They'd hate him, surely. He couldn't–

Jazz's voice in his head spoke up over his spiraling thoughts. Calm and clinical and ordering him to get up, to wash his hands. To find bandages and fishing line to sew up his wounds before their were three dead bodies in this lab.

Danny listened to Jazz's voice. She'd always been the smart one. She'd always known what to do. He stood on unsteady legs and limped to the sink in the lab, washing his hands in robotic motions, ignoring the pink water until it ran clear.

He gathered up the materials he needed, sitting on a clean stretch of ground where there was no blood mess. He stitched himself back together, not even feeling the pain of it. This was nothing compared to what his parents Jack and Maddie had done to him over the past week.

He closed up the Y shaped incision on his chest, closed up the deep, surgical cuts along his torso and arms. Covered them in spare ectoplasm lying around the lab, slathered it on like ointment on the chunks of flesh taken from his arms and legs. Then he wrapped them all in bandages.

He stood again and mechanically gathered what he'd need, Jazz's voice in his head, a calming narrator telling him what step to take next. What to grab. All the ecto-dejectos after he'd taken one and injected it into himself, giving him the energy he'd need and kickstarting his healing. More bandages, all he could grab. Fishing line, needles.

He climbed back up to his room, grabbing a worn duffle bag to shove it all in. He grabbed his phone, turned it off, and tossed it in. Clothes, the cash Sam had given him 'in case of an emergency', the thumb drive Tucker made that would grab all the data from the Fenton computers and wipe the rest. He grabbed clothes, roughly yanking off the ruined remains of his jumpsuit and tossing a hoodie and jeans on instead. His ectoplasm would replace it, eventually, but for now, he needed clothes.

He didn't turn back into his human form. It didn't feel safe. It wouldn't survive with the injuries he currently had. No matter how tired he was.

He drifted through the house, Jazz's voice his only grounding anchor as he dipped in and out of rooms. Grabbed a few things from Jazz's room, some of the emergency supplies she had left. A med-kit, cash, his fake papers, and ID. They kept it in her room, just in case his parents found out and it went badly and they combed his room.

They found out. They found out. It went so much worse than he could ever imagine. Now they're dead, and he's a MONSTER.

He dropped into his parent's room, the static in his head nearly drowning out Jazz's voice. She screamed louder, though. She always had. He took a hesitant step. It felt like moving through molasses. Then another and another, forcing himself into the room of his parents, his victims, the Fentons. He moved as quickly as he could, barely touching anything except to grab his legal papers and the money his dad squirreled away because he didn't trust banks and thought they were controlled by ghosts.

"No one can be that soulless and not be a ghost, Danno!"

He left the room, slamming the door behind him so hard it cracked. He stopped in the kitchen next, grabbing whatever wasn't currently animated and attempting to stage a coup. It wasn't much. He tossed it into the bulging duffle, struggling to zip it closed.

He paused at the stairs to the lab, the darkness yawning like a monster's maw. He wanted to run he wanted to never see it again.

But Jazz's voice was louder than his fear, so he stepped back into the lab, his prison, his cage. Each step rang too loudly in the silent house. Finally, he was back, and he kept his eyes carefully averted from the… mess. From the stains on the ground and the lumps beside a metal table covered in green ectoplasm.

He hurried to the computer, shoving the thumb drive in. Immediately, a screen popped up, denoting how long it would take to download. Danny kept his eyes locked on it, never blinking or moving as the bar slowly went up.

When it reached a hundred, Danny ripped the thumb drive out and shoved it in the duffle, deep down into it. He took a deep breath and turned his head quickly to miss the…mess. He zeroed in on the portal and forced himself to walk to it, past it. He ripped a panel off, exposing a mess of wiring.

Danny moved on autopilot, ripping wires and twisting them together. Turning h- Jack and Maddie's greatest invention into a ticking time bomb.

He couldn't afford for anyone else to get into the Ghost Zone or for anyone to get out. He needed to hide the bodies evidence. He needed for all of the Fenton inventions to be gone. This would do it. It wouldn't be a massive explosion, but it would be enough to take out the house.

Everyone would think he was dead.

Sam, Tucker and Jazz would think he was dead.

That would be for the best.

Better he die a hero to them than live as a monster.

Danny finished his work and stepped back, taking a deep breath he finally turned his head to look at Jack and Maddie. At their bodies. At his victims. He killed them. Him. He was the monster.

The monster they made him.

Invisibility and intangibility washed over him in a cooling wave. He stumbled but held his legs, his core crying from the strain. He pushed past it. He forced himself up, up, up, and out of Fenton Works.

He floated there, watched with a detatched type of curiosity as he mentally counted down the seconds until there was a rumble. Then the building just…crumpled in on itself. Imploding.

Jazz was silent in his mind.

Danny didn't wait around for the emergency services to arrive. He turned his head and flew off. He wasn't sure where, exactly, until a memory tickled his brain. A memory of a little bird, a robin he remembered Sam saying. A ghost robin that used to warn him when new ghosts were coming or his parents were getting close. A robin who used to try to distract his rogues or tug Danny out of (or occasionally into danger if someone needed help) danger.

A little robin that Danny used to just unload his woes and troubles onto because it felt like the bird could understand him. He always stayed to listen, at least.

A little bird who had only ever spoken once, the last time Danny ever saw him.

"If you ever need to run, come to Gotham. It'll keep you safe."

Well. He had nowhere else to go. He might as well go to Gotham. No one would find one singular eighteen year old kid there.

Danny turned his phone on, ignoring the hundreds of missed calls and texts, just long enough to see where Gotham was. Then he turned it off and started slowly flying in that direction, desperately hoping he got to Gotham before he passed out.

—-----------

Danny kept flying doggedly on, only pausing when he started leaking through his bandages and even then only stopping long enough to redo them in whatever bathroom he came across. He burned the old bandages once he was done, not willing to leave behind traces of his ectoplasm for someone to track him with.

He ate while flying, shoving whatever he grabbed out of the bag into his mouth. The ecto-dejectos kept him going when his vision started to go dark at the edges. He couldn't pass out here. Not where it wasn't safe. He couldn't risk it.

Danny had no idea when he'd feel safe again. Had no idea if Gotham would provide that safety, but it was the only hope he had. He had nowhere else to go. He couldn't go to the Zone, the portal was destroyed, and he couldn't risk trying to sneak past Vlad. He was too weak to open his own right now. Besides, if he came into the Zone this injured, then every ghost in a hundred mile radius would be on his ass, trying to finally End him and take the crown.

No, the living realm wasn't safe, but it was safer than the Zone right now.

He just had to get to Gotham, find a safe place to lay low for a few weeks until he healed. Then he could vanish into the Zone.

Danny kept flying, forcing his invisibility to stay up even when his core felt like it would shatter. He kept pushing and pushing. He stole a phone at one point. He couldn't risk turning his on again and having Tucker trace the signal.

He didn't spend time wondering why he'd even grabbed the phone. Why he kept it on him. The buried hope it would uncover would be the end of him.

He used it to keep him on track, getting closer and closer to Gotham until he could finally see the smog that coated the city like a dirty cloak. Could see the twinkling skyscrapers and Gothic architecture clawing at the sky.

Danny was half delirious at that point, running on fumes and ecto-dejecto. He'd run out of food days ago, and his stomach had stopped growling, instead cramping in a ball of pained agony that just joined the rest of the pain his battered body felt.

He flew over the city, past skyscrapers and ancient buildings. He ignored the thoughts of Sam that accompanied every gothic building and gargoyle. He flew deeper into the city, ignoring the crowds below. He wasn't sure what he was looking for, a sign, maybe?

A feeling tickled at his senses, at his core. It felt familiar but faint. Hidden almost under something…wrong and rancid. But it was familiar. It felt safe in a way Danny hadn't felt in two weeks.

It had been longer than that, but Danny didn't want to think about that.

Danny followed the feeling, half asleep and so delirious he could swear the buildings were warping around him as he flew haphazardly closer. The feeling grew stronger. It almost felt like a ghost. As he crossed some unseen threshold, the feeling strengthened. It was like entering an abandoned haunt, the boundary lined weak and feeble.

If there had been a ghost here, they were long gone. Probably Ended, it was one of the only ways he'd ever seen a ghost relinquish a haunt.

Danny paid it little mind. The ghost might be gone, but the sense of them remained. It felt so safe to him, even if the energy pulsate Rage/Pain/Hate/Grief/Vengeance like a heartbeat. He followed the feeling deeper into the haunt towards the center. Towards what would've been the ghost's lair.

He forced his body to go intangible when he found the building, an apartment building that was slightly less derelict than the ones around it. Not that Danny was particularly picky at the moment. This spot was as good as any, and if it had been a ghost's lair, it was unlikely there were any living people in it. They tended to naturally avoid ghost lairs, some deep instinct buried in their psyche screaming at them to stay away.

Danny dropped through the roof and through apartments until he reached the one that was positively drenched in the faded ghost's energy. There was a couch right there. And Danny didn't even have the energy to look around further.

He was tired. He was in so much pain. He just wanted to sleep.

Danny dropped his invisibility and intangibility, collapsing on the couch, his duffle bag dropped to the floor beside him. The moment his eyes closed, he was out.

---------

What. You thought I only wrote fluff? Nah.

Anyways, this is an idea that's been rattling around in my head I wanted to get out. It's rough, unedited and who knows if I'll continue it. But it exists now.

It has no name but I saved it as 'The Monster They Made' but the name is subject to change.

I'm pretty sure I got all the trigger warnings. Let me know if I missed any

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sunsetcougar · 11 days

Text

So I have not been able to get this idea out of my head these last few days. There’s this old theory that popped up because of the pilot that the exorcists were robots. I was listening to the FNAF fan song Below the Surface by Griffinilla, I remembered that theory, and it got me thinking.

What if the exorcists were part mechanical? What if they weren’t angels? What if they were sinners who were kidnapped during the exterminations and brought back to Heaven where biotech was used to warp their bodies and program their minds to turn them into exorcists?

Soldiers designed to kill the very things they once were, still are in some way. Who kidnap the next batch of sinners to join them in the exorcist ranks. Who have no free will because programming stole it from them.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel au #tw kidnap mention #tw experimentation #Biotech Exorcists AU

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dgalerab · 1 year

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"ain how far are you on the 3rd page to be posting the 2nd one on the next day" first of all, come back with a warrant,

(part 1)(part 2)(part 3)

#rooftop agency au #bnha #erasercloudmic #aizawa shouta #tw experimentation #tw electrocution #erasermic

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scaramouche-bully · 2 years

Text

— ☆ Amore mio aiutami

Includes: Dottore and Omega Build Dottore.

Contains: Unhealthy relationships, co-dependency, implied stockholm syndrome, mentions of experimentation, medical phobia, slight yandere, improper medical treatment, obsessive + possessive behavior.

"You're childish, you set them all weeks behind schedule with your tantrums, and you hate him equally as much as he finds you irritable. But he bites down on his tongue with his opinions because Dottore is fond of you. Genuinely cares for you. For reasons that weren't built into him."

[ masterlist ]

I removed the anon ask attached to this fic because this is probably not what they were looking for. To be honest, I have no idea how I got here as well. I was just talking about how I wanted to be babied by the deranged war criminal doctor unconditionally despite the fact it would be entirely out of character. But since we don't know if the Dottore appearances are actually the original Dottore, I took massive liberties with his character in this one. I lost so much steam at the end hahh.

It starts the same way every time. You’ll make a mess, leave the lab, and refuse to take your medicine. Important papers are scattered all over the floor, shards of glass still have drops of fluorescent liquid dripping from them, and pieces of equipment are bent and broken. In the middle stand's Dottore as he mixes a small test tube of pale blue liquid in one hand, completely disregarding the state of the room. His bulky coat is missing but Dottore has long since removed any parts of his body that hinder efficiency, so the cold doesn't bother him anymore. Omega stands at the entrance of the lab, looking at the tornado that swept through the room displeased.

"I'm taking the girl didn't respond well to the treatment again?" Omega asks, quietly closing the door to not disturb the silence. There are only two reasons for the lab to be anything but organized and it's either the man himself has lost his temper or it's you. Seeing that Dottore is idly standing by, swirling a concoction that Omega recognizes as something specifically created for your illness, he can guess which assumption is correct.

"You know how she feels with anything medical-related," Dottore muses, finally placing the test tube down to scan his surroundings. "She made quite a mess this time."

Dottore's amusement in their situation adds to Omega's displeasure. Perhaps it's because he wasn't built as a replacement but as an extension in the name of progress, but for all Omega can do, he can not comprehend why Dottore keeps you around. You're childish, you set them all weeks behind schedule with your tantrums, and you hate him equally as much as he finds you irritable. When he was first created, he thought he may have been able to find some aspects of your charm but all he found was a leech. You constantly cling to the Doctor's side and give anyone else the nastiest attitude, even his segments. Especially to his segments. Although he may be biased because you seem to have a specific vendetta against him. At first, Omega assumed you were going to be used as another test subject and these were your last days of rebellion before inevitable silence. But after days turned into weeks and your presence was still here, he grew confused and confronted the original. That was the first and only time Dottore was ever livid at Omega, nearly dissembling him on the spot for even suggesting touching a hair on your pretty head. Thus he bites down on his tongue with his opinions because Dottore is fond of you. Genuinely cares for you. For reasons that weren't built into him.

"I'm going to search for her. Have someone clean up and replace the broken equipment immediately," Dottore waves dismissively, placing the test tube on the only clean surface and turning to leave.

"Yes sir," Omega bows as Dottore passes him, already anticipating the headache he'll have to endure in clean up. The blue test tube stands tall, patiently waiting.

---

You hear the door open behind you. That was a lot faster than you expected but given who Dottore is, he probably already knew where you would run to before you did. You bring your legs closer to your chest and bury your head further into your knees so you don't need to face him. You hear the quiet steps of his shoes against the floor, slow-paced and leisurely, as he enters the room and rounds the desk in his office. Before he can say anything you're throwing yourself against him and pressing your face against his stomach.

"I'm sorry," you murmur into the fabric of his shirt. Weak fist clinging onto him as you feel one of his hands come to the back of your head, softly playing with the strands of your hair. He only hums in reply, not in the least bit aggravated that you made another mess in his lab. You'll make another one in a month, apologize again, and the process will repeat again the month after that. He never gets angry, not with you. He always treats you carefully, as if one wrong touch and you'll crumble to dust. Truthfully he's right. You can't do anything without him even before your illness overtook your body completely. Before he arrived, you were struggling to do the simplest of tasks. In the region of Snezhnaya, if you weren't useful then you were discarded. Thus, your family had dropped you on the Fatui's doorstep and that's how you met the second harbinger. Scared, cold, and helpless. Not so different now years later.

"So this is where my coat went," he says, cupping your cheeks, the pads of his fingers rubbing small circles. Your skin is cold to the touch, paler than when you threw a fit in his lab. He readjusts his coat over his shoulders that had fallen when you threw yourself at him, bringing your form closer to him in the process. "Are you finished with your tantrum my dear?"

"It wasn't a tantrum," you frown, huffing under your breath. Dottore audibly sighs before getting down on one knee. Even kneeling, Dottore is still taller than you so he can't match your lowered eye level as you loosen your hold on his waist. From this angle, he can see just how hazy your eyes have become, how hard your body needs to work to take each breath, and how you shiver even under the heavy fabrics.

"Come now, you must take your medication or your condition will worsen,” he whispers, pushing strands of your messy hair out of your face. He’s going to have to cut your hair for you soon, he can’t see your face properly anymore.

"I don't want to. It's...scary," your frown deepens, your fist now balling tighter in your lap trying to ground yourself down further. You squeeze your eyes shut and rest your forehead against his in hopes that maybe this time, he’ll have some mercy to spare.

"I know. But you must and you shall," he denies your unspoken hope as the reality of your situation comes bearing down. You know that you'll have to, willingly or not. It's easier to get this done and over with before Dottore loses his patience and sedates you until you're nothing but a drooling fish. You still remember the first time he did the procedure vividly. The feeling of helplessness as your body refused to cooperate with you while your mind remained conscious. You never want to experience that feeling ever again. So all you do is nod. You don’t need to look up to see his pleased smile as he takes your hand to guide you out from underneath his desk. You try and stand but a sharp pain pounds against your forehead and you stumble, Dottore already ready to catch you. He makes a noise of amusement, scoops you up into his arms, and walks out of his office. Your legs dangle around his waist, arm's clinging to his neck as you rest your head against his chest. While he doesn’t have a heartbeat, the back and forth sway lulls you into comfort as he takes you back to the lab. The noise of assistants running around, shards of glass being dusted, and the shuffling of papers greet your ears the closer you get back. As soon as the door opens and Dottore walks in, the temperature seems to drop as everyone stop's what they're doing like scared animals. They all bow their heads before quickly scampering out of the lab. All except for Omega who stands guarding the test tube Dottore left behind reading one of the discarded research reports.

"That was shorter than expected," he tilts his head to look past his paper to see you bundled up, Dottore’s hands rubbing small circles into your back, his chin resting on top of your head. It's almost picturesque enough for Omega to gag.

"Go away, don't you have anything better to do," you turn and glare with bitter eyes at the segment.

Omega matches your glare despite the mask over his eyes, his tone is enough, "Due to your mess, everything needs to be put on hold while we clean up after you.”

"You mean like your failure in Sumeru? Oh sorry, sore spot huh? I’ll try and refrain from hurting your feelings next time.”

"You ungrateful-"

"Enough." You both immediately quiet down at Dottore's voice. "Leave."

Omega frowns but obeys nonetheless, walking out after the rest of the staff. There’s blood sweeping into his mouth from the bite on his tongue. You wave your fingers cheekily at this retreating back and giggle when you see his frown grow deeper. Your satisfaction is short-lived when Dottore seats you down on the desk, right beside the test tube.

"Must you always agitate my segments?" he asks although you know he’s not annoyed. If anything you think he finds it funny seeing his segments get attitude from you. "Now it’s time to be a good girl and take your medicine."

Dottore picks up the test tube, swirling its contents, almost spilling over the top as he carries it over for you to hold. Your eyes follow the specks of powder that spin and dissolve as it settles in front of your face. You gingerly raise your hands up, fingers wrapping around the tube one by one, as you stare down at the reflecting blue liquid. And there’s the ball of unease clawing into your mind. You know the various things he gives you aren’t meant to heal you. After so many years of his treatment, you haven't gotten any better. Only healthy enough to walk but not run. He knows that you know and yet he still calls it medicine. But you ignore your mind screaming at you to throw it to the ground and run away again. You know this is the last one, you've broken all the other ones, and no matter how patient Dottore is with you, this is your last chance.

And yet.

"I-I can't do it. I'm scared." you whimper, tear’s beginning to form underneath your eyelids. Your fingers shake but you don’t dare let go and accidentally drop what’s in your hands. Dottore is quick to pull you into a hug, mindful of the fragile glass tube, shushing you as your body shakes harder as you try and contain your sobs. He gently cups your face to tilt your face up to him, his other hand brushing away your tears before running his thumb over your lips. He’s waiting for you to say it. He won't move until you say it.

"Please help me." His eyes narrow gleefully, his grip around you tightening to bruising. He needs you to say it.

"My love."

Dottore grin's like a madman. His sharp-pointed teeth bared. He takes the test tube out of your hands, swirls it one last time, before his other hand tips, and holds your head back. You can feel the liquid flow past your lips, down your throat, and spread through your body. You're helpless but at least you won’t be conscious enough to hate it. The feeling of drowsiness overtakes your senses, weights under your eyelids that beg you to close your eyes, until your pliant in the doctor’s hands. Dottore places the test tube back onto the desk before stepping back to observe your sleeping body. It ends the same way every time. He’ll clean up the mess, carry you back to the lab, and feed you your medicine.

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promptsforyourwhumpfic · 9 months

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Whump Prompt #1230

What’s worse:

Your whumpee being sedated and waking up with body modifications.

Your whumpee being kept awake while they’re being modified.

#write the fic and find out #Whump #writing #prompts #ideas #noncon body modification #tw noncon #tw experimentation

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redgryphon · 11 months

Text

A short, simple comic based on a nightmare I had. Yes, it really was like this*. Yes I have a lot of Bloodborne dreams. I also have a lot of Dark Souls dreams but I turn those into TTRPG maps.

*Full res and explanation of changes from original dream on Patreon.

#tw blood #tw gore #tw death #tw drugging #tw hostages #tw kidnapping #tw medical experimentation #tw experimentation #tw needles #tw nightmares #tw occult #tw torture #tw violence #bloodborne #dream #nightmare #fanart #art #original

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hiroshotreplica · 1 year

Text

rise of salmonlings

#can you tell im excited for what the dlc could be #lil judd #splatoon #splatoon fanart #splatoon au?#salmonling #salmonid #salmonids #experimentation #tw experimentation

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boots-with-the-fur-club · 2 months

Note

28 and 29

I combined the two, hope you don’t mind! Also, um, I went a little far with this. Make sure to check the tags.

@daboyau

Leo thrashes around violently against the restraints keeping him to the table. The Kraang who brought him there had taken out his portaling ability the first chance they got. It feels like years since then. Maybe it has been. The Kraang aren’t exactly generous when it comes to their prisoners.

Especially not one they’re trying to break.

He stops moving as much when a certain former warring warrior scientist walks in. He was taken at the same time Leo was.

That doesn’t mean he’s also a prisoner though.

“I-I want to be mad at you, but you’re like this and Mikey isn’t….you turned into such a freaking softy. Sacrificing yourself for the greatest mystic warrior ever? He’s not even a kid anymore.” Leo scoffs.

Draxum’s half Kraang covered face doesn’t change expressions. It was worth a try. It’s not like this could get any worse. It is torture by the world’s evilest creatures after all.

He lifts up a syringe filled with a green substance.

“What….going to double mutate me? It’ll do exactly what you’re trying to avoid.” Leo insists.

The reason Leo isn’t part of the grossest shade of pink ever hive mind right now is because they want someone to infiltrate the resistance undetected. That means he can’t look like Draxum does right now.

It also means they have to get him under their control another way.

He had been kept in a cell for a long time before this. Every day, Draxum would come in and use something new on him to make sure he never got used to the torture.

Leo’s healing factor meant that it could go on for a long time. Wounds closing just to be torn open again. A fresh canvas to splash with blood.

Just recently, he’s been making a lot more serious escape attempts. He almost made it the other day. The Kraang were really pissed about it.

This is probably punishment.

Draxum injects the liquid into his vein and immediately it feels like his insides are on fire. He bites his lip so hard it bleeds. He’s shocked when it hasn’t begun to heal already.

There’s….no way he just….?

The pain throbs through his whole body and he can suddenly feel it where he hadn’t before. A broken ankle that he was able to walk on now is absolutely killing him.

His wrists burn and bleed from how much he just tried to free himself.

He really did it.

Draxum took his healing factor.

A saw appears in his line of vision that is pressed against his arm.

His cool persona starts breaking as he feels the words to beg for this not to happen on the tip of his tongue. They’re only barely held back by the fact he knows it’ll only encourage The Kraang.

Draxum begins sawing.

Slowly.

Leo feels the scream come deep from his core. The pain is completely unbearable. There’s absolutely no drug to get him through it.

He hears liquid dripping to the floor. It’s easy to imagine both the tears pouring from his face and wound mixing on the ground.

Leo starts passing out from the pain. He feels something else inject to his other arm and his brain buzzes back to life.

Adrenaline.

He’s keeping him from going to into shock. From passing out. From escaping the worst pain of his life.

It keeps going on and on. It’s so slow. He can feel when his nerves die and shut off. It’s only some.

He’s hitting bone he’s hitting bone he’s hitting bone he’s hitting bone he’s hitting bone he’s hitting bone he’s hitting bone-

Ah.

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE MAKE IT STOP!

RAPH!! DONNIE!! MIKEY!!

DAD! GRAM-GRAM!

ANYBODY! PLEASE!

A wall blows open.

Finally, finally, something other than the sound of his flesh and tendons being torn through.

The saw stops as he’s vaguely aware of Draxum getting tossed so hard he’s not sure he’s ever going to get up again.

There’s screaming.

A lot of screaming.

Oh, he recognizes those voices.

He’s barely able to turn his head to look his family there.

His brothers and-

Ha.

Who’s letting Casey J.R. see this?

Gross!

Leo starts laughing.

His brothers all start trying to help him. Casey J.R. stays back, eyes wide and full of absolute fear.

Leo laughs more.

How awful.

#tw amputation #tw torture #tw saw #tw blood #tw needles #tw experimentation #tw surgery #tw angst #angst no comfort #rise fanfiction #rottmnt fanfiction #future leo #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt #2018 tmnt #rottmnt casey jr #tw body horror

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phoebepheebsphibs · 2 months

Text

And the story goes on…

Spoiler warning for Until I Found You Lore.... CW: Mentions of torture, abuse, and experimentation.

@boots-with-the-fur-club @daboyau

Prev || Next || Reference image for Mikey’s scars || illustration

Mikey couldn't stop sobbing.

The other Donnie was writhing on the floor, screaming in pain as he gripped his head tightly. Something was wrong, something was very very VERY wrong...

But Michael could only watch and cry and shout at his brother to "Open the thing, open the thing up, Donnie! OPEN THE ORB!!"

"I'm trying!" his brother yelled back. "It's a different design from my tech, I'm doing the best I can considering I don't have my tools with me and I'm using my bare hands--"

The alternate Donnie started shrieking in agony, his cries ringing through the halls and echoing mercilessly in Mikey's head. He falls to his knees, the glowing marks on his arms and legs turning that evil shade of blue.

"PLEASE, DONNIE, HE'S HURTING! I CAN'T DO ANYTHING FROM IN HERE, PLEASE--"

"WELL EITHER GET APRIL TO POOF YOU OUT OR -- GOT IT, I GOT IT, I GOT THE THING TO OPEN!" UIFY Donnie yelled back, finally hacking into the sphere and causing the shields to dissipate. Immediately the three fall forwards, with Mikey regaining his footing at once and pouncing at the quivering Donatello on the floor.

Mikey wrapped his arms around Donnie, sobbing into his shoulder as he pressed his hands against his shell and the back of his head. A soft, warm amber glow began to spread over the shaking softshell, his eyes slowly refocusing as he turned and stared down at the copy of his brother. Apparently this Mikey was also in-tune with his mystic powers. Amazing, considering the age gap between him and the other Mikey, and the fact that they'd not even known about mystic abilities until they'd met Draxum and taken his magic weapons for themselves. This one must've been practicing magic for a while... Donnie's headache ceased. He watched as the tiny, trembling version of his brave baby brother kept pressing his small and delicate hands against his shell and neck, quietly mumbling to himself - praying possibly, or perhaps reciting a magic spell. Whatever he did, it helped tons. But it seemed to exhaust the poor kid as he slumped over, his head rolling into the crook of Donnie's neck and shoulder. Michael's soft, slow breaths tickled uncomfortably against his sensitive skin, and he flinched.

"Michael, get off of him!" the other Donnie said, coming forward and pulling the kid away. "If this Donnie's anything like me, he doesn't like to be touched. Especially after... whatever the heck happened to him."

"I-it's fine, he helped, he... What exactly did he do?" Donnie asked, slowly getting to his feet.

Donatello Von Draxum picked the child up and held him close to his chest. Mikey had fainted, it seemed, though his eyes fluttered open and shut several times. His head lolled from side to side, rolling around as if he was trying to force himself to stay awake but failing utterly. He mumbled softly, muttering whispers to no one specifically before finally succumbing to the exhaustion and resting his head against his brother.

"I'm... not exactly sure," Donatello Von Draxum mumbled, slowly pulling the bandages from Mikey's arms and checking for any mystic injuries. "Best guess is... he leant you some of his strength."

"His strength?" Dee questioned.

"Whatever you needed in the moment. Strength, presence of mind, life-force, that kind of stuff. It could explain why he's so sleepy now."

"Will he be alright?!" Donnie asked, hoping he didn't just cause a version of his brother to be in a vegetative state for the rest of his life.

"He's okay. He just needs a nap. It's nothing too extreme." Donatello Von Draxum looked over Donnie with concern. "YOU on the other hand..."

"Yeah. That was not fun."

"No fun in fungus, huh?"

"Roll credits," April interjected, having gone to retrieve Donnie's tech-bō for him.

"Very clever. I suppose... we should go look for Raphael now," Dee decided as he took the staff from the Mayhem-ified April.

"Are you sure you don't want to rest?" she asked, eyeing him nervously. "Those things have a way of draining you. Physically, just as much as emotionally."

"I am fine," Donnie insisted. "But you've got some... something on your arm."

"What?" April asked, looking down at said appendage, which had a black and blue smear across it. "Oh, ew, gross. It's the goo from that hand.PNG. Yuck! I didn't even notice that..."

Mutant April wiped the sludge off onto her jacket.

"No worries, I think I'm all good."

"What about Michael?" Donnie asked, pointing to the still out-of-it box turtle in DvD's arms.

"I can carry him," he insisted. "He weighs practically nothing. We'll be coming along."

"Good, the more help we can get the better. I don't think it's safe for anyone to split up anymore. Let's go find my Raph and your brothers," Donnie said, taking the lead.

The four walked on through the hallways, Mikey mumbling or muttering and even humming in his dazy sleep as they searched for the others. Donnie kept glancing over at him to make sure he really was okay. He seemed fine. It reminded him of the time his April had gotten her wisdom teeth removed, she'd sent them a video her mom had taken of her after she'd woken up from the surgery. They guys all had a big laugh over it, how loopy and looney she'd been, constantly gibbering about nothing and then falling back asleep. The memory made him smile a little. It helped to alleviate the stress, to simply pretend that was what had happened to this Mikey. And not that he'd sacrificed some part of himself for Donnie's sake. And not even for his Donnie's sake, for a complete stranger.

It was so unbelievably awkward.

The two Donnies barely said a word to each other. Donnie kept giving glances at Mikey and DvD would catch him, and Donnie's head would snap in the opposite direction. Poor April was stuck in the middle of their silence, doing her best to lighten the mood but eventually giving up and straying ahead of them.

Donatello glanced over at Mikey again. Michael had made some small squeaking sound - a yawn maybe - and curled up into his brother's hold. The bandages on his arm were loose... That's right, DvD had checked his arms earlier for cracks -- had that meant that there might actually be some danger to whatever spell he'd used to help Donnie?! He could see the cracks right there! DvD said he was fine, but Donnie could clearly see the holes and thin lines made from --

Holes?

Mikey's overuse of ninpo didn't make holes, they made cracks like broken glass that webbed across his arms! So, where had...

"Did you... want to hold him or something?" DvD asked.

Donatello was startled from his train of thought and realized he'd been staring at Mikey for too long.

"Oh! Um, no I didn't -- unless that is, you would like a break?"

"Like I said, he's not that heavy," Donatello Von Draxum repeated flatly.

"I recall. I was just worried for him, is all, and I--"

"You were staring at him."

"Oh, was I?"

"Quite obviously so."

"Ah. I apologize for the social faux pas of staring rudely at your brother."

Silence again.

"But do you want to hold him?"

"You are... offering?"

"Your brother is gone, for the moment," DvD stated. "And I saw how you looked at my Mikey. For you, there is precious little to distinguish the two. Correct?"

"Well... I suppose they are very similar," Donnie ceded.

"And he undoubtedly considers you family as well."

"That is evident, considering what he did for me."

"That's your fault, you know."

"Excuse me?" Donnie sputtered, stopping in his tracks. "How is it my fault for saving you three from getting spored?"

"Apologies, I misspoke. I merely meant that you did something that reminded him of... of something bad that happened to us."

"Then am I to assume that's why he reacted the way he did?"

"Precisely."

"I see."

Donnie looked down at the alt. Mikey, still fast asleep. He was so much smaller than his brother. So... petite. No, Miniscule. Maybe Runty. Donnie kept searching for the right word. Not weak, or tiny, he was so...

Frail. That was the word. Thin limbs connected to a slip of a body, a tiny round face with baby cheeks so slim and slender. He was just too small.

"...I think I will carry him. If only to relieve you of duty for a short while."

"Very well," DvD relented, carefully exchanging his brother into Donnie's arms. Donnie had carried his Mikey before, and even his Leo. Heck, he'd carried all three of his brothers on more than one occasion. He'd let them grab onto his legs or arms while he flew above the city with his hover-shell. It was quite a feat, all of them clinging together like the barrel of monkeys toys from their childhood. And he'd gotten his leg dislocated from its socket for the trouble, but that was nothing too bad really, and Leo had helped fix him up. He desperately missed his brothers... All this to say he knew what to expect, to carry a slightly smaller version of his baby bro.

The alt. Mikey was placed into his hold.

Ooooooh pizza supreme in the sky this kid literally weighed nothing.

Donnie's eyes widened. He'd expected some kind of difficulty, some weight, but no -- it was like carrying air. The only weight he could feel was from the clothes, it seemed. He'd estimated this Mikey to weigh somewhere in the vicinity of 70 pounds, maybe even 65. It felt like he weighed no more than 10.

"He's... he's so light..." Donnie's voice trembled.

"I did say he weighs almost nothing," DvD smirked.

"I thought you were using hyperbole!" Donnie snapped. "When was the last time this Mikey was weighed? He should have more tone in his muscles than this!"

"Well, years of near-starvation will result in major weight loss."

"Mikey -- my Mikey -- said he told him a bit about his life... but I never imagined..."

He never imagined this kind of troubled life for him. He knew the kid had a hypoglycemic condition, too. He couldn't imagine how difficult that had to have been for him. No wonder he was so skinny, his clothes baggy and nearly falling off of him, the bandages... Donnie's attention was brought back to the little boy's arms.

"...How did he get these...?" he asked softly, pulling the bandages off and showing the other Donnie the scars and marks on his arms.

Donatello Von Draxum went pale. He almost looked sick to his stomach, as he slowly re-wrapped the bandages for Mikey.

"...Those were my fault."

"Your fault?" Donnie was astonished. His voice came out as barely a whisper.

"Partly. Some of them were from me, some were from my father-- ahem. From Draxum."

"Draxum did this?" Donnie's blood began to boil. "But... why? And why did you--"

"The story is that I had left the Baron to try and start a new family with Mikey, Leonardo, and Raphael. I'd been... planning to trick our brothers into returning to Draxum so that they could join his army of mutants against the humans, but eventually I realized I couldn't go through with it. So I left without saying a word. Draxum got wind that his other experiments survived, and started searching for them. He found Mikey first, kidnapped him, and left a calling card for me so that I would know where he was. I confronted him, only to end up in a trap. He... he wanted me to return home and help him experiment on Michael."

"Did you?" Donnie asked, drawing the small child closer to him, holding him tightly to his chest.

"I had to. He threatened to torture Mikey, to intentionally sabotage his experiments on him and hurt him if I didn't assist. I had no choice. To ensure Michael's safety... I had to do whatever Draxum ordered me to. Day after day, it was nothing but surgery after surgery after blood test after--"

"I thought you said experiments," Donnie growled. Mikey whimpered in his hold; Donnie readjusted him slightly so he could rub his head to soothe him.

"That's what he told me, initially..." DvD continued. "But on the first day... he revealed his experiments were more medically-based than he'd lead me to believe. But I couldn't say no. He was going to inspect his spine, I had to stay and make sure he didn't--!"

Donatello Von Draxum covered his mouth as he gagged at the memory. His hands trembled.

"...It... It was inhumane. Unethical. Horrible. Even Huginn and Muninn - whom I don't typically get along with well but tolerated more than Draxum - agreed that his tests were unreasonable and not meant so much to inspect Michael's state but more so to punish me for having left Draxum and kept my brothers a secret from him. And Draxum kept it up for seven whole days. Most experiments and examinations were him cutting into Mikey with a scalpel and studying his skeletal structure and veins and nervous system first-hand. The rest were to see how his body reacted to certain potions and formulas and magic spells, to test his mystic endurance. He wanted to see if he could be a strong warrior... and if not, he wanted to see if he had any mystic talent."

"All that... just to know whether or not Mikey had mystic abilities?"

"I don't have any magic ability myself," DvD explained. "I know all the spells and potion recipes, I understand how to do it, and I know how it all works but... I'm disconnected from it. Draxum was always disappointed with me over that. He hoped that Mikey would show some promise."

"What happened?"

"He took it too far. On the sixth day, Draxum told me that Michelangelo possessed the greatest capacity for mystic power and ability to date."

"He what?!" Donnie yelled, forgetting the sleeping figure in his hands. "I mean, I know my Mikey became the greatest mystic warrior in the future, but... to have surpassed everything?"

"It came as a shock to me, as well. And Draxum said... He said he was going to take Mikey's powers away from him and then set him free. But it was all a lie. He was going to kill him... I fought with Draxum. I won. I took Mikey home."

Donatello could tell he was intentionally leaving out some big parts of the story. But based off of everything, he figure it was best to leave it unsaid.

"So that's why... Mikey leapt at the chance to help me," Donnie whispered. "Why he was so upset when he saw me hurting... it reminded him of you?"

"Yes. And it is also why he wears those bandages, though the wounds have long since healed."

"Why is that?"

"Because he knows that I feel responsible for that hurt. I did that to him. I helped to cut him open and chisel into his shell. I hurt him. But I'll never let anything hurt him ever again."

Donnie nodded, understanding that protective drive. He felt the same way about his brothers.

"In that case... maybe you'll want to carry him again?" Dee offered.

Donatello Von Draxum didn't even try to politely decline. He immediately reached over and took the boy away, who at this point was slowly coming out of his sleepy stupor. DvD held Mikey on his hip, letting him rest his head against his shoulder. Mikey groggily wrapped his arms around his brother's neck in a hug, yawning once more before going back to sleep. The son of Draxum felt the deep inhale and exhale from his little brother against his chest, proof that he was alive and well and trusted him above all else. DvD smiled, the first time Donnie had seen him smile -- really smile, not just an evil grin at the mention of humanity's destruction -- since he'd first met him.

"Do you think... my Mikey is okay?" Dee asked after the silence began to return.

"I am sure he is. He has you to look out for him. You'll rescue him, and all will be well again."

Donnie smiled.

"I hope so..."

"Hey, you lazy-bones!" April shouted. She'd gained a lot more ground than them during this bonding episode. "Hurry it up! I think I found one of the guys!"

…I have failed you, master. My injuries… they impede me.

They are inconsequential, my dear disciple. Rest easy, for you are still needed. You've done well thus far. But there is still much to be done if I am to take over this realm. So many tragedies to intercede, so many traumas to feed off of, so many toys to play with and BREAK.

But what of the others? Without my work—

I shall finish my collection soon enough. You did your part, and now we have a new player. Our new deliverer of destruction. They shall lead the others to their doom.

A new...? Do you mean you have infected one of the children? They serve our cause now?

Indeed, thanks to you.

How intriguing... but who...?

Rest for now, and regain your strength. Your services are yet to be utilized.

Very well... whom shall we be expecting to join us next, my master?

...I want the big one.

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