Like Father Like Son [ROTTMNT]

Chapter Nineteen: Loopholes

Sometimes it was easy to forget the metal armor.

At other times it weighed down on him, his neck only withstanding the weight of his helmet and head because of its own metallic casket keeping it straight. The mannequin within the armor sat hunched over his own knees, not moving aside from the slight rise and fall of his chest. His mask, usually tight around his face, was left around his neck from drinking the small amount of water he had managed to stomach. He knew he should pull it back up, but somehow the worry felt far away, his body not responding to even that small thought.

Green was... existing.

That might be a word for what he was feeling right now.

Were... were his brothers okay? Draxum had seemed sure that they had survived that drop, but- but what if-

Too late to fix it now.

Green shifted, pressing himself against the wall, letting the cold stone seep into his bones and the center of his very being, grounding him inside of his own body. No use lingering there, no benefit in fighting a losing battle. There were thirty restrictions, shackles, and ropes stringing Green along like a good little soldier. He was expected to be perfect by now. He was expected to be compliant. His thoughts were less of one voice, young and carefree, and more so a hodgepodge of other voices, like an old broken radio, filled with static and changing channels with every sentence.

Just look at you. You must be the biggest failure ever.

Not useful to anyone.

Weak.

Pathetic.

He felt sick.

The puppet clumsily stumbled to his feet, foregoing sleep to instead start pacing again. Back and forth, back and forth, back and forth, hoping in vain that tiring himself out would stop the ache in his chest. Back and forth.

There was only the sound of clicking metal against the stone floor and the hum of electricity even within the darkness as back and forth he went, eyes uselessly trailing along the cracks in the ground. Back he went to the time where he selected a small piece of wood, Donnie laughing at him as he scowled and forth he went into a future with three, four, five, more bodies at his feet, their faces all too familiar, his uneven gasps rising in volume

until

there was something

else.

Someone else.

Someone else that wasn't supposed to be here.

Slowly his head turned, and he slowed to a stop, standing there as he waited for his next already instructed move.

April, still clutching Raph's shoulder in a death grip, peered around the big turtle. Whatever monster they had expected to find slinking through the sewers, the less-than-a-foot-tall gargoyle sitting in front of their metaphorical doorstep was not it.

The gargoyle's wings fluttered in choppy, uneven beats, wavering in the air as he stared back at them with wide eyes. His snout was narrow, making his face look sharp and pointed. April remembered him from earlier that night. "Um," he started. "Hi, turtles! Now, I know what you're thinking, but-"

"You!" Mikey cut in, clutching his kusari-fundo so hard that his hands were pale. "You're the one that was on Leo's shoulder!" His voice dripped with venom, the effects acidic on Draxum's little henchmen.

"Aha," the gargoyle laughed weakly, landing on the sewer floor in front of them and uncertainly looking from one face to the next. "Yeah, Leo- about that- I came here to talk to you about him, actually-"