Chapter Text
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Donnie doesn't remember passing out.
All he knows is there were tears of relief and pride (and that sweet, sweet rush of connection family ninpo safe safe safe you are safe you are home Leo is alive you made it).
Then he blinks, and the lair is dark save for the twinkling fairy lights hanging from the ceiling, bathing the atrium in a warm, cosy glow.
Blearily, he looks around, noting the presence of the entire Hamato clan squished together in one big cuddle pile. Donnie can see Splinter and Draxum passed out on the couch (gross), the rat's snoring acting like a white noise machine.
Both Casey's and April are here, much to Donnie's surprise. They weren't present when Leo and Donnie poofed back into reality. They must have shown up while Donnie was unconscious, no doubt breaking down metaphorical (or in Cassandra's case literal) doors for answers.
Yikes. Donnie's glad he missed that.
Predictably, Casey Sr is sprawled atop a snoring Raph's shell while Jr hugs the snapper's tail like a teddy bear. Wrapped up in the crocheted blanket she and Splinter had made last year, April snuggles against Casey's back, her legs draped across Mikey's lap. Donnie's left arm feels numb from how tightly Mikey clings. Still, he's wearing his hoodie (somehow; he blames Dad, an expert in sleepy turtle wrangling), so the contact and drool leaking from the corner of his baby brother's mouth doesn't bother him. Much.
Donnie drops his head back against Raph's side, staring at the ceiling. He's home. He's really home.
Did we ever really leave? Or was that all a bad dream?
His mouth feels dry as the desert they'd escaped, his body weighed down by the remnants of the pure exhaustion that took him out. That alone should be proof enough that the whole Magic Book situation was not, in fact, some messed-up dream.
Nor is the split-second all-consuming panic that squeezes his chest when he thinks where is Leo?
Heart in his throat, he turns. The air leaves his lungs in a rush when a blue-masked, red-striped face greets him, squished against Donnie's right shoulder.
Clad in his pastel blue unicorn hoodie, Leo sticks to Donnie like a limpet, arms banded around his waist, their legs tangled under Donnie's warmest weighted blanket. Donnie's right arm is draped over Leo's shell like a shield, fingers gripping the tails of his mask hard enough to cramp. They're both propped against Raph, their eldest brother's steady breathing and rumbling snores a soothing lullaby that almost puts Donnie back under again. Almost.
Swallowing hard, Donnie carefully slips his arm from around Leo to press two fingers against his neck.
A pulse beats sure and stable.
Donnie lets go and leans back with a shuddering sigh, blinking hard to fight the stinging wetness in his eyes. He doesn't know what he expected—he saw Leo come back to life, held and talked and carried him, brought him home, of course he'd still be alive when he woke up.
They'd beaten Erazor. They'd finished the story and escaped the book. They're home. They made it.
And yet...
A muffled voice mumbles, “That's like the third time you've checked my pulse.”
“Johannes Kepler—!” Donnie slaps a hand over his mouth. His girlish squeak doesn't wake the others, thank god, but Raph does grumble “language,” before snuffling back to sleep, snout buried in the stomach of a stuffed bear with a stitched arm.
Crisis averted, Donnie whirls on Leo with a scowl that deepens when the little shit cracks an eye open and smiles cheekily back. “Startle me like that again and I'll bite your face,” he hisses. Leo sticks his tongue out, unrepentant. Donnie is half tempted to shove his prick of a twin away, but backtracks immediately at the very idea of being more than an inch away from his brother right now. He settles for flicking him between the eyes. Leo, quietly, bitches at him before they settle back against Raph.
For a moment the only sound filling the silence is their family breathing, snoring or muttering in their sleep. The occasional drip of a pipe somewhere in the kitchen, and a train passes deep in the tunnels beyond.
Donnie never thought he'd miss the ambience of the sewers. He'd take the sensory nightmare of New York over the dead quiet of the fictional Arabian dunes any day.
“How long have we been here?” Donnie asks softly.
Leo unclasps one arm from Donnie's waist to pull his phone from his pocket. Ah, sweet technology, how Donnie has missed thee. “Last I checked before passing out, it was still Saturday.” He presses the power button, Leo's lock-screen blessedly dimmed so Donnie doesn't go blind. Mikey and Leo's grinning faces, covered in paint, beam at them under the time flashing at the top of the screen; a screaming Donnie chases them in the background while Raph laughs from the couch. It brings a brief, crooked smile to their faces.
“It's Monday now, two am," Leo continues. "We've been in and out of sleep for two days straight. Our schedule is officially effed.”
Donnie blinks as Leo shuts his phone off and puts it away, locking his arms back around Donnie.
Huh. They were trapped two or three days in the book, but for everyone else, it had been less than a day.
What would've happened if they'd stayed longer? Would they have aged years in the book while only days or months passed in real-time?
Donnie decides he's okay with not knowing the answer and banishes the thoughts before they bloom. “When did April and the Jones get here?” he asks instead.
“According to Raph, not long after we passed out. Oh, BTW, Dad, Mike, Raph and Drax were reading along while we were trapped there.”
“What.”
“Mmm hm. They read everything. Well, read and heard. Drax cast an audiobook spell. And it was all from your POV.”
“You're shitting me.”
“Not even a little bit. I took a peek before Draxum and Mikey burned the book. Your prose wasn't bad from what I saw, gotta admit. Build up those writing skills through Jupiter Jim fanfiction, eh?”
“Don't mock me, I've read your Sonadow fics—”
“Anywhizzle, I didn't get to read all of it. I didn't want to, honestly. Since, y'know... you said you'd tell me everything once we made it out." Leo looks away, fingers fiddling with a loose thread from Donnie's hoodie. "Figured you'd keep your promise, so I didn't wanna go flipping through your thoughts before you got to talk to me about it...”
Donnie's chest tightens, throat bobbing as he swallows the fist-sized lump. He plans to keep that promise—spill everything, the visions, the memories, the whole ordeal with his weird but incredibly badass transformation. Leo deserves to know, even if it's embarrassing, even if it hurts, even if it's scary. But to know Leo had the chance to sneak a peek and actively decided against it...
“... that's... very thoughtful of you, Nardo,” he says. “Thanks.”
Eyes averted, Leo shrugs, clearly uncomfortable, which baffles Donnie given everything that happened in the book. Emotionally vulnerable who? Never heard of her. “No biggie,” Leo says. “The others wanna talk about it once we're all like, awake. Dad already filled April and the Joneses' in on everything. They were pissed. They—“
Leo falters. Shoulders hike up to his ears. He doesn't look at Donnie. “... they felt... they felt me... y'know. They all did.”
Oh.
“Oh,” Donnie says lamely. He gently bunts his head against Leo's.
Leo leans into the touch. “... yeah. They were... pretty shaken up, putting it lightly. But yeah, they—they're gonna leave it for now. Not too long, but...” Leo trails off. A slightly uncomfortable silence hangs between them.
Donnie thought he'd felt true pain when Leo threw himself into hell with the Krang and locked the door behind him. But watching Leo die, listening to him cry for their Dad and beg for forgiveness, cradling his lifeless body in his arms as he cursed the wretched creature that took him away—
It was more than Donnie could bear. More than he could comprehend.
He was ready to die at that moment. Join his twin in that unreachable place—together or not at all, as they'd always been, as they were always supposed to be—no matter how selfish or cowardly. It was better than living in a world where he'd forever be only half of himself, a world where he'd failed as a twin, as a big brother, as a Hamato. Anything was better than that agony.
If that's what he'd felt, he doesn't have to imagine what the others had gone through outside the book, powerless to do anything but read or—oh sweet god—listen as their brother (their son, their baby) suffered and died...
Donnie shuts his eyes, squeezes Leo closer, breathes in deep and counts to ten.
He's here. They're all here. We're together. It's over.
He breathes out. Leo nestles under his chin, churring comfortingly.
Still restless, eager to bring back that cosy aura of safety he'd first woken up to (later, he vows), Donnie asks, “Why are you awake?”
“Prolly the same reason you're checking my pulse every hour on the dot,” Leo says, not missing a beat. “Swear I'm gonna have finger-shaped bruises on my neck in the morning.”
“Wait, actually? Did I hurt you? Shit, I'm sorry—”
“No, no, I'm just messin', you're fine. Well, maybe not, because you're waking yourself up and checking my pulse every hour...” Leo shrugs. “And I'm stuck to you like a traumatized koala, so. I guess neither of us is fine.”
Donnie takes in the state of them—locked tighter than a vice, checking pulses and laying awake listening to the other breathe—and sees Leo's point.
He doesn't remember waking up as often as Leo says he did. But the spiking fear he'd felt was familiar enough. So is the cramp in his neck from the uncomfortable angle against Raph where he dropped back off once his fears were proven unfounded. Just not unfounded enough to keep him asleep.
Leo's clinginess, Donnie understands. They always revert to turtle-shaped leeches after every 'worse than normal' confrontation with their baddies of the week; the Shredder incident and the Invasion made that habit worse to the point Draxum, of all people, staged an intervention to address the crippling co-dependency they were developing.
But judging by the subtle shiver in Leo's limbs and the redness in tired golden eyes, this isn't a case of 'After Mission' insomnia, or even regular Leo insomnia. If he's been awake long enough to clock every time Donnie has jerked awake to check on him...
Oh. Oh.
He pulls Leo in closer with his free arm, and Leo goes willingly, tucking himself under Donnie's chin with a contended but exhausted chirp. Donnie instinctively replies with a low churr against Leo's temple. “I did say it'd take a while for us to be okay,” he whispers. “But we will be okay. We are home, surrounded by family, and in the comforts of our abandoned subway tunnel under the loudest city in the United States. We beat the Big Bad Barney knock-off and punted him into a pit of lava with all the disrespect he deserved, and we escaped the book together. Just like you swore we would.”
He feels Leo's breath hitch as he nods against Donnie's chest. “Yeah,” he breathes. “Yeah, we did.”
Donnie swallows hard and shuts his eyes. “And you're alive. So you can go to sleep now.”
A beat passes.
Then Leo sniffles, and Donnie wants to break something.
“... I can't,” Leo warbles and Donnie wants to kill something.
He nuzzles Leo's head with his snout instead. “You can. It's okay, Nardo. I'll probably wake up to check on you again anyway, and everyone's here in case something does happen, be it a nightmare or whatever inconceivable thing your dum-dum brain is trying to convince you of.”
“But what if I—?”
“You won't.” Donnie carefully extracts his arm from Mikey's sleepy clutches to wrap Leo up fully in an embrace. “You won't, Leo. You're safe. You're alive. I brought you back. Far as I'm concerned, you will live forever once I crack the code on immortality.”
A dampness grows where Leo's face is pressed against Donnie's hoodie, his body trembling harder in his efforts to silence the sobs threatening to burst from his chest.
“Donnie,” he gasps. “Donnie, I'm—”
His ninpo picks up where his voice fails. It wrenches Donnie's heart fiercely, but he's still glad for it.
(I'm afraid.)
Because this is something Donnie can fix.
He cuddles Leo closer and lets his own ninpo wash over his twin, pouring every bit of love, solace and strength he can muster through the intangible thread that binds them as Hamato, as twins, as family.
(Safe, purple hums like a lullaby, chants like a spell, endows like a vow. Safe, safe you are safe you are loved and I love you I will not let you go anywhere without me again we will protect you we love you I love you so much—)
(red bulldozes into purple and blue, quelling their startled jolt by wrapping them up with enough warmth to shame any raging furnace.
I love you too, red cries, so much. So proud of you, both of you, you're the strongest most fearless bozo I know and don't you ever forget it—)
(orange lights up the night sky, brighter than any star with enough love to bring life to the driest desert.
It's okay to be scared! but don't forget we're here for you! lean on us, both of you. we'll carry the weight together, Mad Dogz style!)
(one by one, bombastic gold, steadfast grey, tired but fond maroon, rampaging pink and tentative but beloved green combine in a whirlwind surrounding blue and purple, building an impenetrable wall, daring whatever encroaches from the dark to try and break through, try and touch them again and see what happens.)
(You Are Not Alone.)
Leo laughs wetly, lifting his face from Donnie's chest to wipe the tears from his cheeks with the cuffs of his sleeves. “Okay, okay, I get it,” he croaks, turning to the room at large. Donnie isn't surprised in the slightest when every goddamn person in the room cracks an eye open to grin, beam or smirk at the twins. Not a single eye is dry, not even the 'Great' Baron Draxum or the stalwart Cassandra.
Of course they're all awake. For how long, Donnie can't tell, but honestly, why did he expect any different from the most extra, protective, hopelessly adoring family in the world?
Donnie snickers and scrubs his face with his arm. He can't stand these fools. He could never live without them.
Leo's next laugh hitches on a sob, but his smile is bright and sweet and really, truly Leo. “You guys are the worst.”
“Whatever do you mean?” Mikey chimes, batting his eyes innocently from behind Donnie as he scuttles close to the soft shell for cuddles. Rolling tear-filled eyes, Donnie obliges and tucks Mikey under his arm. Mikey soaks in the affection like a flower unfurling in the sun. “We were all asleep just now. We have no idea what you're talking about!”
“Indeed. No ninpo channelling in this household at such an unholy hour, no sir,” Casey Jr adds from his spot by Raph's tail.
Donnie inwardly shudders at the scarily accurate impression of him. They'd all banked on him taking more after Future Leo, but damn. Future Donnie must've been a bitch.
“Yeah, we were all just sleeping 'til my man Donnie went full 'Fairytail power of friendship' and woke us up,” April adds, not unkindly, as she grins over at the twins. A tear slips down her dimpled cheek, and she makes no move to wipe it away. “You know this ninpo shit ain't completely a one-way thing, right?”
“That 'ninpo shit' is our sacred family heritage, Miss O'Neil!” Splinter barks from the couch, nearly toppling sideways onto Draxum (ewwww). “I thought I taught you children respect!”
“Besides,” Raph says before any verbal fists start flying, “if you think we felt what you were going through and said 'miss me with that I'm going back to sleep,' you're in the wrong family, big man.”
Raph can't sit up and hug them with Cassandra wiping her eyes from her perch on his shell. But he meets Leo and Donnie's gaze in turn, and the sheer love in the deep brown hue he'd inherited in part from their father almost makes up for it.
“You're gonna be okay,” Raph says. “You're both gonna be okay. We're here.”
Donnie remembers the pockets of memories he received from the Ring of Sadness; that heart-shattering moment where he'd clutched SHELLDON's head in his hands, and Raph had held him—the moment he realized his Big Brother couldn't protect them from everything like they'd all naively believed. Raph's word was no longer law at that moment, only a reassurance that he'd do his best, (which was still enough, more than enough, more than Raph could shoulder on his own and still stand tall despite the burden). But looking into his eyes now, Donnie wants to beat past-Donnie over the head with his Bo because screw it, Donnie believes him, Raph's word will always be law, screw logic, screw everything—
And now he's crying with Leo. They're all crying. Again.
“Cass,” Donnie warbles, lifting his arms and making grabby hands towards Raph. “Get off my big brother. I need my Raphie hug right freaking now.”
“Make it a double,” Leo blubbers.
“Triple!” Mikey whines.
“Oh, for the love of god—” Cass rolls off Raph's shell right as the snapper all but leaps up to yank all his siblings into a bear hug, using his tail to pull a laughing Casey in. Splinter and Draxum, quickly but calmly (at least compared to the feral teens) join the dog pile, patting every head they can reach, hands lingering on the twins.
The adventure is over. They have their fairy tale happy ending, and the moustache-twirling villain is forever defeated. But there's always an after Happily Ever After, where physical wounds are tended to and mental and emotional wounds are addressed and shared so the weight doesn't crush the hero in the peaceful aftermath.
That's what awaits Donnie and Leo, in the form of long heart-to-hearts with their fathers and siblings and even longer nights spent together in turtle piles and movie marathons. It'll be a while before Donnie will be okay without Leo in his sights twenty-four-seven, and longer still before Leo's nightmares stop, leaving him lying awake wondering if he's really, truly alive.
But they'll get there. Through the power of family, friendship, and pure, petty spite if all else fails. It won't, but it never hurts to have a fail-safe.
For now, amid the wheezing and tears and laughter, Donnie finds Leo's hand and squeezes.
We'll be okay. We're home. We're not alone.
Leo squeezes back and smiles, tired but bright and sweet and hopeful.
Donnie can't think of a better happy ending.
The End