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findmeinasunshower · 2 years

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𝑷𝒂𝒏𝒊𝒄 𝑩𝒖𝒕𝒕𝒐𝒏: 𝑻𝒆𝒆𝒏𝒂𝒈𝒆 𝑴𝒖𝒕𝒂𝒏𝒕 𝑵𝒊𝒏𝒋𝒂 𝑻𝒖𝒓𝒕𝒍𝒆𝒔

word-count: 1.5k

summary: angst, hurt/comfort, eventual fluff. No specific turtle x reader, just vibes :)

warnings: character injury, injury to reader, fainting, canon-typical violence

One of your classmates called the monster of the week a “Kraken” earlier, and you find yourself filing the name away for later as you duck out of the path of the its swinging tentacles. You can already imagine the names Mikey will come up with for the ten-foot tall monster in an attempt to create a better name.

This isn’t your first rodeo dealing with near-death situations, but this specific attempt on your life is particularly eerie. The Kraken makes no noise as it decimates the hallway except for the hollow sound of metal clanging and the wet slap of its tentacles on the tile. The stale quiet has you more on edge than normal—there’s usually a familiar rhythm and rhyme to these situations, where the monster roars and people scream and flee before it all ends in the clash of swords and nunchaku.

So, yeah. The silence irks you.

It all goes to shit when you’re about a meter from the monster, putting yourself between it and the rest of your classmates trying to escape. You’re so focused on ushering the last student through the door that you don’t notice the two tongues whipping toward you like twin vipers. You barely have time to cry out before you’re lifted violently off of the ground, and you see stars when your head hits the ceiling.

The Kraken’s grip doesn’t falter despite the cool, rubbery texture of its skin, and you find yourself gasping for air as the tentacles tighten around your midsection. Your muscles scream in agony as the harsh, stinging pressure races up your abdomen like lightning and you hit desperately at the offending appendages, hands sliding uselessly across the slick mucus covering the pinkish-purple skin. The monster looks up at you all the while with no remorse in its single black eye. Its face doesn’t even flicker as a third tentacle shoots up and smacks you in the throat, the pressure of the blow forcing another choked gasp out of your body before the appendage curls around your windpipe and squeezes so no sound can come out.

It’s like your body’s other senses shut off, hyper-focused on the torture you’re enduring. Where are the turtles? You pressed the panic button Donnie put on your phone the second the fire alarm went off. They should be here by now. That’s all you can think of as your vision begins to blacken and you throw your head back in an attempt to gape for air, but all you can manage is a rough choking sound.

Through the haze, you hear something shatter, and it takes you a moment to realize it’s your phone in your pocket. Tears dribble down your cheeks as you turn your wide eyes back to the ceiling, thinking of how far you’ve come. How much you’ve experienced. How much you’ve learned.

How the boys will never recover from this.

When you choke on a sob at that thought, you’re not even able to get any air down. You’re going to die.

Just when you’ve resigned yourself to your fate, a resounding clang echoes through the air and suddenly the pressure around your body retreats. You drop limply to the ground, landing spread eagle as you take a shaky breath and cough from lack of oxygen.

“Shhh,” a voice hushes over your ear and you shudder in relief when you feel a familiar body wrapped around yours—you never hit the ground. Tears roll down your temples, pooling in your ears as you feel Michelangelo begin to drag you away. Blurs of purple and red dance across the shadow you vaguely recognize as the Kraken.

Mikey hefts you into his arms once you’re far enough away and you blink rapidly at the change in angle. You focus on his tight expression and try to say something, but all you manage to produce is a strangled wheeze, air sliding around your throat like sandpaper.

A second pair of footsteps joins Mikey’s running down the hall and suddenly Donatello’s hands are on you, checking your vitals as he runs. “Hang on, (y/n),” he snaps, not at you, but at the situation. “You’re gonna be okay, you just—”

His voice fades out as the world blurs around you. Should you be feeling this woozy? “...in her arm, Donnie—”

“Oh, no—”

“What?” a third voice growls above your head. A loud slap of metal on skin meets your ears. “What’s happening, Donnie?” Raph.

“(y/n)! Don’t—”

Not able to hold out any longer, you slip into unconsciousness.

~*~

You return to the land of the living with a violent gasp, eyes flying wide open as your body lifts off of whatever you’re laying on. You barely register the sound of a chair tipping over before two calloused hands are cupping your bare shoulders, holding you steady. “(y/n), you’re safe,” a calm voice says. “You’re safe.”

Your panicked eyes zip over to the speaker and you see Leo looking down at you with a tight smile. “You have to calm down, (y/n),” he urges, and in the back of your mind you’re frustrated by him using his rare, clinical “medic” voice on you.

But you ignore the heaving in your chest as you come down from your panicked high and relax into his grip as much as you can. “’Nardo,” you wheeze, throat burning as the syllables roll off of your tongue. You look around and realize you’re in Donnie’s lab, neon purple lights arcing up the dark ceiling and casting a futuristic hue over your surroundings. Something is digging into your lower back, making you arch uncomfortably.

“What happened?” you croak, “Where are the others?” You’re interrupted from asking more by a sharp pain ripping through your midsection, and you hiss at the sting it leaves behind. Leo tightens his grip on you and gently guides you back so you’re laying down. You clutch at your abdomen when your head makes contact with the soft pillow behind you and panicked tears well up in your eyes. “I never saw Donnie,” you sob. “And Mikey—”

“They’re fine.” Leo squeezes your hand in what is meant to be a reassuring gesture, but the fake smile on his face has the opposite effect. “Everyone was a little banged up, but we’re up and running.”

A mirthless laugh escapes you, and you let your head roll back so you’re looking up at the ceiling. You don’t trust yourself to speak again until the pain in your abdomen subsides, and when it does, all you can ask is: “Did you get it?”

The room is silent for a moment, save for the hum of machinery as Leo mulls over his response. “Not yet.” Your eyes widen as Leo tells you the Kraken managed to escape during the chaos that was your rescue. He smiles sadly down at you and cups your cheek, running his thumb so softly over your cheekbone you almost don’t feel it.

“I—We thought we lost you,” he whispers, and the shakiness in his voice nearly makes your heart stop. Very rarely have you ever heard Leo sound anything but confident, but you’ve never heard him sound scared. He heaves a deep, shaky breath before continuing: “We got there as fast as we could. And when I hit it, you just...fell. You looked like you were dead. And then Donnie started yelling about poison and that you weren’t breathing, and—”

“Hey.” You cut him off by taking his hand off of your cheek and cupping it in yours, close to your chest. “I’m okay,” you whisper.

Leo’s frown deepens at your attempt at comfort. The both of you know perfectly well that you’re not okay. Your entire body is trembling slightly, recovering from the remnants of the poison and making you feel nauseous. You can feel the heavy weight of bandages wrapped around your elbows, and realize that the lump at the small of your back that’s making you lay awkwardly are more wrappings around your waist. You can only imagine what your abdomen looks like after so long in the Kraken’s hold, or your throat for that matter after being nearly choked to death.

You swallow the lump in your throat, suddenly petrified when you realize just how close you came to dying. “Okay, so I’m not okay,” you admit. “But, I’ll be okay,” you correct yourself, nodding not only for Leo’s sake but for yours too.

Leo nods and sniffles, letting go of your hand so he can wipe his eyes in privacy. “Okay.” He turns back to you with his signature smirk and goes to say something more, but all that comes out is blank air. You wait patiently anyway, trying not to show how badly you want him to say something.

But instead of speaking, Leo pushes up from your bedside and gets to his feet, flashing you a grin that’s too easy to see through. He points at you playfully and orders, “Stay here. I’ll go get the others. Donnie’s gonna be pissed you woke up on my shift.” You nod and smile tiredly up at him, and he offers you one more smile before jogging out of the lab and screaming, “GUYS, (y/n)’s AWAKE!” at the top of his lungs.

A laugh bubbles up in your throat, and you close your eyes in contentment.

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