Archive of Our Own ^beta

CJ wasn’t too surprised to find Don in the kitchen at two in the morning. He could be an insomniac sometimes, and most of the other times, he was working on a project and couldn’t stop to sleep. Thankfully, Angelo seemed able to guilt him into going to bed, and if not, Raph would bully him into getting some shut-eye. Otherwise, CJ wasn’t sure that the turtle would ever sleep.

“Tea?” offered Don. “We have a good selection of decaf.”

CJ nodded. He was visiting Don’s world because sometimes his world got to be a little too much. Everything seemed a little bit dimmer and more serious in Donny’s world, and CJ could appreciate that. It was familiar, in a way, but familiarity brought back memories, both bittersweet and bad.

He took the cup of tea Don had handed him. The cup was hot, almost too hot. CJ stared at it, not looking up, when the turtle sat beside him.

“Nightmare?” Don asked.

He shrugged, turning the cup around in his hands and watching the liquid slosh around. To be honest, he wasn’t sure what the dream he just had qualified as. 

Don took a sip of his own tea. “Me too. Do you want to talk about it, be alone, or sit together silently?”

What did he want? Tonight’s reason for not sleeping hadn’t been bad, per se. He had dreamt of a time when Professor Donatello was still alive, and things had still been good. When he had woken up, for a moment, he couldn’t remember where he was and why he wasn’t with his family. Then it hit him, and CJ couldn’t stand to be in bed. He needed to see that he wasn’t back there no matter how badly he wanted to be, so he had gone to walk around the lair. Then he saw a light on in the kitchen and realized how very much he didn’t want to be alone right now.

It had been a year now since everything had gone to hell but turned out alright in the end. The bad dreams weren’t as frequent anymore, but the painful ones were becoming too real. He needed to remember where he was and not think about that other time. Because if he started thinking about that other place too much, then he started seeing Leo, Michel, Donnie, and Big Raph in his family’s place. Things would begin to blur, and then all of a sudden, Michel was winking, and CJ was crying because he could only see Michel, not Master Michelangelo, shatter into a million pieces of sunlight. Or Donnie would be in the lab, absorbed in a project, and he would be replaced by Professor Donatello. Some days he woke up, and it was Leo, not Sensei Leonardo, who had died in his dreams. On other days, he saw Big Raph buried under rubble. All the mixing was getting to him.

“Everything’s starting to blur,” CJ said quietly. “And it hurts worse when I can’t separate everything out. Being unable to tell what’s real from what’s not is terrifying.”

He needed to talk about it. If it stayed in his head, things would get worse, usually. Michel had one or two conversations with him about bottling everything up. Angelo had backed his counterpart up. And they were right, even if words felt like too much sometimes. In the end, it was always best if he could just get it out.

Don hummed. “Seeing your family die does things to you.”

He said it so quietly that CJ almost didn’t hear it. He wasn’t even sure if Don had meant to say it. The words lingered in the kitchen for a few minutes. 

Don sighed. “It still hurts, even years later. But it does get easier, CJ. It will get easier. You’ll stop seeing things that aren’t there.”

CJ froze with the teacup in hand and halfway to his mouth. What? 

“We had an enemy — Ultimate Draco. He sent my brothers and I to different places in time and space. I was sent to a world where Utrom Shredder had won because I had disappeared. No one knew if I had left or died. I hoped I was dead somewhere. No, I knew it because there’s no way I could’ve watched hell unfold and left it all as it was.”

Don paused, tapping his fingers on the table. CJ got it after a second. It was Morse Code for sorry. He took a sip of his tea and focused on the cup in his hands.

“I killed my brothers,” Don said at last. “I watched them all bleed out in front of me. Mikey screamed my name as he went down. I still hear it, sometimes.”

He paused again, fingers still tapping out sorry over and over again. 

“They were all so different. The world was so different. I stumbled out of a lair destroyed and found myself held at gunpoint by a squad of soldiers with the Foot symbol on their jackets. The world was already grey with ash and smoke, but everything seemed faded, too. Everything was dead. The people had to work eighteen hours a day in labor camps; the Utrom were enslaved. Shredder was planning to expand out to space. I always thought hell would be hotter, but everything was so cold.”

Sorry, again, over and over. Don didn’t realize what he was tapping out. CJ took another sip of tea, focusing on the cup in his hands. 

“Mikey was the worst. Splinter was dead — he had died first, after me. He had bought my brothers enough time to escape from a trap. Leo and Raph had one final fight soon after that; they both left to help the resistance in their own ways, but they wouldn’t work together. Raph lost an eye in a fight he wanted to lose. Leo went blind after an explosion. Casey had died in one final attempt to take out the Shredder. April was still around, leading a resistance. But Mikey—”

They sat together a little bit more, sorry on repeat. After bad patrols, Don and his brothers would lean against each other. So CJ, slowly in case Don pulled away, leaned against the turtle’s shoulder. 

“Gods, Mikey — I don’t want to know what hell he went through to make him like that, but I wish I did so I could remember him better. He deserves someone to remember him. You’re proof that split timelines continue to exist after all.”

“Sorry,” he whispered, holding the teacup tight. 

“No, thank you,” Don corrected. “I had to force myself to believe that the timeline still existed, that my brothers — even if they weren’t mine — had died for something. Now, I know that their lives weren’t a waste. Somewhere out there, they died and left the world a better place. Thank you, Casey Jones Junior.”

Sorry, faster and faster. Three short, three long, short long short repeated twice, and then long, short, long, long. Sorry, over and over.

“Mikey had lost his arm somewhere along the way, and I wasn’t around to build him a new one. Didn’t need it, though. He took out the entire squad of foot soldiers and a helicopter by himself, saving my life even though I had destroyed his. Asked me where I had been — I think it took him a moment to realize I wasn’t his Donatello. Showed me a wasted New York, showed me the resistance. For some reason, he believed me when I said I could fix it. I wish he had punched me and told me off for being so arrogant. This wasn’t a fix-it scenario. The resistance didn’t believe they could win. They were just fighting because they wouldn’t lie down and die. What right did I have to come in and say I could fix it? But at least it brought my brothers back together again. Only, I killed them. And then, right after, I left. There was nothing I could've done to stay, but it felt like betrayal a long time afterwards that I had just up and left.”

Sorry, sorry, sorry. CJ took another sip of tea and found that the mug was empty. The cup was still warm, though, so he held onto it tight. 

“It was a suicide mission. I think everyone knew it, but I still promised Leo that there was a chance we could win. Mikey died first, surrounded by Karai robots. I couldn’t do  anything  as he fell, screaming for me. Leo died second, trying to save me. Then Raph, calling for Leo. In the end, they bought me enough time to kill Utrom Shredder. I suppose I saved that world, but it still doesn’t feel like it.”

Don sipped his tea and then went back to tapping sorries on the teacup. He sighed, and the mug shattered in his hands. Neither of them moved, even as Don clenched his fist and blood dripped onto the table. Then, slowly, CJ reached out and pried Don’s hand open.

“I still see it sometimes mixed up with everything else that’s gone wrong. But it does get better, Casey Jones. It will get better. But there are some things you need to do.”

“Like grabbing bandages and tweezers to get the shards out from your hands?” CJ said. “You’re bleeding, in case you haven’t noticed.”

Don huffed. “You’ve been spending too much time with Angelo and Leo. But listen to me, Casey, because this will destroy you if you aren’t careful. Please, promise me you’re listening.”

CJ nodded, pressing harder against Don’s shoulder. 

“That other time is not the same. It’s as different as your dimension is to mine. They’re worlds apart, even if they look similar. That’s one. I tell myself that every day when I get up. What happened there won’t happen here because we’re around to make it different. Two, the people you couldn’t save are happy to see you here. The enemies you fought would hate it knowing that you survived. So live and make the most of it, even if some days it’s just out of spite. And three — don’t forget, but don’t let yourself drown either. Letting them go isn’t leaving them behind. It’s living the life they died to give you. Trying to carry that weight will only crush you. Got it?”

“Yeah,” he said. Why was he crying?

“Can you repeat it for me?” Don asked. “One —”

“This world is different,” he finished. “Two is that my family is happy to see me here.”

Don hummed. “And three?”

“Learn to let go,” CJ said.

“Even though it sounds like it’s the hardest thing in the world to do,” Don said. “I know it sounds impossible, but day by day, it does get better. I can promise you that. Every time you see Sensei Leonardo in Leo, remind yourself of all the ways Leo is different. If you’re seeing Professor Donatello in Donnie’s lab, head to Donnie’s and get him to info dump. Go to Mikey whenever Master Michelangelo’s on your mind, and he won’t leave. Hang around, Raph, when you’re not sure he’s alright. Okay? But it will get easier; it will get better. The hurt will never disappear, but I promise you it will get better.”

Don pulled him into a one-armed hug. CJ buried his face in his plastron. They were both crying now. They stayed like that for a while, leaning against each other. CJ couldn’t stop shaking, and Don wasn’t breathing all right. Blood was running off the turtle’s hand onto the table; it must’ve hurt a lot, but Don didn’t pull away until CJ lifted up his head and wiped his face with his sweatshirt sleeve. 

“I should go grab the first aid kit,” Don said, flexing his bloody hand and wincing.

“Can I come with you?” CJ asked.

Don nodded, getting up. “There’s one more thing I want to add. I was there for little more than a couple of weeks. You lived that timeline, though. You’re braver than you know, CJ, and much stronger than me.”

CJ shrugged, unsure what to say to that, and got up. Don pulled him into a one-armed hug again as they wandered out of the kitchen and into the med bay. The portal room flashed as they walked by, and Leo walked out with his phone flashlight on. They stared at each other.

“Insomnia team for the win!” Leo cheered quietly. “I want thin Oreos, and we’re out. Do you guys have any?”

“We don’t cheer for insomnia,” Don said tiredly. “And yes, in the kitchen. Don’t mind the blood. I’ll clean it up later.”

“Sometimes you scare me more than Donnie,” Leo informed him, then jogged to the kitchen.

“Rule number four, don’t do what Leo’s doing,” Don said. “He’s a bad influence.”

CJ couldn’t help but laugh at that. “Come on, if Big Raph or Leonardo finds blood on the floor in the morning, we’ll never hear the end of it.”

“Worse yet, imagine Raph,” Don said, shuddering theatrically. 

They entered the med bay, and CJ dug out the first aid kit. Don made little hissing noises as CJ picked out glass pieces and disinfected the cuts, but other than that, there was a comforting silence. 

“Thank you,” CJ said at last. 

“Things will change for the better, Not all at once, but little by little until one day you wake up and realize that those memories you carry don’t weigh as much,” Don said. “But until then, I’m always free to talk. Whenever you need to, whatever I’m doing, because sometimes this all hurts like hell. I mean it, okay?”

CJ nodded. “I’m lucky to have met you.”

“It goes both ways, kid,” Don said.

CJ squawked in protest. “I’m seventeen.”

“And I’m twenty-four,” Don pointed out. “You’re a teenager, so you’re a kid.”

“Well, you’re only a young adult,” CJ said. 

“And neither of us should be having a conversation about watching our families die at two in the morning,” Don said. “But here we are. And after this, we’re both going back to sleep.”

CJ hesitated for a moment. “Can I sleep over in your room? I don’t think I want to be alone right now.”

“Sure,” Don said. “I don’t think I want to be alone right now, either. Bring your blankets and pillows into my room while I clean up the mess in the kitchen.”

CJ nodded, wrapping Don’s hand up tight. Then he went to his room — he spent enough time on 2003 Earth that he and the turtles had decorated it and everything — pulling everything off his bed and dragging it to Don’s room. Don appeared a few minutes later, couch pillows balanced on one hand.

“Sleeping on the floor isn’t good for your back,” he said, tossing them on the floor. 

“Thanks again,” CJ said, straightening them out and spreading blankets over them.

“What are friends for?” Don asked, clambering into his own bed.

“Family,” CJ corrected. “I’ve known you and your brothers for only a year, but we’re family. If you’re fine with that?”

“Family,” agreed Don. “And as your older brother, I’m telling you you need to sleep now.”

“I feel like I should stay up just to spite you,” CJ said.

“I can and will make you help with all the soldering work I need to do tomorrow,” Don threatened.

“Haven’t done soldering work in a while,” CJ said after a moment. “Can I join you even if I go to sleep? I used to help Professor Donatello in his lab all the time, and I want to build new lab memories. Donnie’s a little protective of his lab, though, so I haven’t asked him.”

“You’re always welcome in my lab or the garage, CJ, even when I’m not there. Just make sure you ask me beforehand,” Don said. “This lair is your home. I know you have April’s place and the other lair, too, but I hope you know this place always has a room for you, literally. We decorated it last month and everything. Now go to sleep, CJ.”

CJ curled up underneath the blankets, holding a pillow close. “Thanks again.”

“Sleep, CJ,” Don repeated. “It’s almost three now.”

CJ tucked the blankets around him tighter and then felt something heavy land on him. He touched it — a weighted blanket. Don thought of everything it seemed.

The clock in the room ticked quietly. CJ was glad the turtle preferred analog to digital because he hadn’t gotten used to silence. With the sound of Don snoring lightly, the sound was just right. It sounded like home, maybe because he was home. 

He took a deep breath and repeated to himself quietly, “Different worlds, different places.”

It wasn’t a betrayal to feel at home somewhere else. Sensei Leonardo, Master Michelangelo, Professor Donatello, and Uncle Raph were happy that he had found a new family and had three homes he could crash at. They were happy for him. Casey held that thought for a moment, turning it around in his mind. They were happy he had found a home.

So yes, Casey Splinter Hamato Jones Junior could be happy sleeping on the floor of Don’s bedroom because he was home. And that was alright. It wasn’t forgetting his past. It was making a future. He could live with that because that’s what his family wanted, and that’s what his new family wanted too. Now, he just had to remember that.