TMNT ONESHOTS.

"Fled your tears child, leave 'em at the door."

Rottmnt / Set in prison dimension / no ships
—

Really, the prison dimension felt so long when it was just so, so small.

But Leonardo never knew that, so he floated in the dark abyss, and those dastardly pink tentacles would smack back at him.

Leonardo didn't wanna fight.

Not anymore.

He didn't feel quick-witted, smart, or confident. He felt like a toddler. Still stumbling around and calling out for his dear older brother, his dad who was too depressed to really care.

He just curled closer to his rather injured plastron. There were strange sucker marks on it, he thinks it was from Krang One.

His memory is blurry.

Very, very, and blurry.

He thinks it's been a year since he's been here, which felt difficult to understand.

Are his brothers not coming? No..no.

He felt like a toddler again, crying out loud, he was hungry and his mouth felt raspy. And he was crying out for his older brother who was barely older.

And he still came, cradled, curled, and loved him.

He just looked around, swallowing raspy, and wondered if sound existed or not. He felt his body float like it was oxygen like it was part of the..the..

He doesn't remember.

He tries to latch onto one of Donatello's ramblings, which he wishes he could hear once more. He sighed loudly, but it came out like a feared noise. Defeated.

He cried out.

He screamed and cried and wanted to throw a tantrum like a baby. But he couldn't, the prison dimension was..like a prison.

It felt barred and chained and clinked, trying to throttle at nothing and trying to escape it.

He cried out again.

And nobody responded.

Everything was silent other than the screeching, screaming, and wondering what would ever happen to his mind.

Would he age? Would his body become malnourished?

Or would he crack and tremble at the seams, feeling it float away from him like everything else had? Like nothing was gonna happen.

But also like everything that happened was gonna double over and over, buckling him over the shell and snapping his body in triples, splintering him out like a wood stick.

So he felt his tongue be dry, nothing was slicking, and nothing would ever stick—not even his words.

He called out again, but he couldn't hear his own words, not anymore. He wondered if he ever could, feeling the self-sufficient pain that had oozed into his heart and curled in his body.

It felt like it was blossoming and seeding into his mind, the doubt of nobody coming to help him. He looked around, slowly blinking and realizing he was alone.

He shook his head to nothing but the darkness he had greeted himself too.

And those tentacles that have surrounded his being and suckered and created punctures on his body. He sighed slowly.

Did he sigh?

Has he sighed?

Has he even breathed since he entered?

Will he ever breathe ever again?

He cried out once more, feeling tears roll down his cheeks, was he crying?

He thinks he reached his hands and wiped it quietly, but he also doesn't notice.

He wonders if he ever cried anymore or ever moved, or if he just floated like an iridescent light bulb, neon and bruised.

How long has he been here?

He thinks a few many years have happened, chewing at his gut and spitting him out.

His brothers aren't coming and for some reason, it's like he couldn't even form coherent thoughts, like blasphemy had appeared in his brain and cut out all the power.

He wonders if that'll ever get fixed.

If somehow, for some reason, he'll learn to live here and enjoy it. He hopes it's soon.

He doesn't know how long he can spare here anymore, which feels gnarly and gruesome. He just cried out, again, horribly.

When were they coming to get him?

Were they dead?

How many years has he been here? He can't recall anything.

He doesn't even know if he can remember their voices or names, and sometimes, it's like they have all merged and muddied together like clay.

Sick, old, and gray clay with fingerprints all in it.

He doesn't know if he can see anymore which is a silly thought, buffering his brain and chopping it into cubes and squares. Twice times over.

Is he stupid?

Has he always been stupid?

He just tried to curl closer but his movements didn't feel real, they felt sickly and like static moving through their brain like a line.

He shuts his eyes, he thinks, not wanting to acknowledge that pink tentacle that still wavered through the prison dimension.

It felt like a parasite. Is he a parasite?

He thinks so. He is a parasite, an unneeded and ungrateful one at that. He had suckled out the dimension of its resources.

And the dimension was attacking him back with some mind-meaning, thought, and action-repellent attack. A purge on his mind and being that he doesn't think much anymore—

He thinks it has worked. It is disintegrating and removing every single memory he has ever had of his brothers, if his father, of everyone he ever knew.

Including the people he hated and would still unceremoniously tremble over. Maybe he wasn't as scared as Draxum, but the weird thought of being thrown off a roof had burned into his brain.

Melted and molded it.

Destroyed it completely, spinning his thoughts like silk and spinning thread. He just cried out again.

Nobody was coming for him, he was alone.

Why was he alone? Would he always be alone? He opens his eyes but he isn't sure of his movements at all anymore.

Has he ever been, he thinks? Has he ever been in tune with what is going on? Leonardo sighed.

Did he sigh?

Was Leonardo even his name? He doesn't know anymore, it feels blurred with old memories.

Blue, Pepino, Leonardo.

All names he remembers he goes by or went by, he doesn't go by any of them anymore. They all felt fake and plastered onto his body but also something he was willing to escape.

He looked around, opening his eyes and noticing something that looked blinding.

It was yellow, it began as a shiny orb.

And then it began as orange and burst everywhere. He called out "Michelangelo!" He cried, his felts felt hoarse and grated.

But this time, he heard it. He heard the words that came out of his mouth.

He saw them all. All three of them.

He called out again, and again.

And then they grabbed his hand and pulled him through. Relief flooded through him and he just ailed.

"Took you guys long enough!" He smiled and said out, more cornily but on the verge of breaking down.

But his brothers just hug and smile, like they are relieved. Leonardo is too.

He had called out,

And they had returned it.