Chapter Text
Leo really thought they won.
And they did, for a bit. At least, that’s what he considers it. It’s one of the few things that keeps him sane anymore - the idea that, if only for a moment, they managed a victory.
The Kraang do not see it this way.
And Kraang One in particular does not let a day pass without shoving his own views of the invasion in Leo’s face.
“A suicide mission.” He’d say, grin morphing around his teeth, “One that failed on all accounts, wouldn’t you agree?”
And Leo wouldn’t respond. Couldn’t respond. After all-
He can’t talk back without a tongue.
Can’t joke, can’t ridicule, can’t beg-
Can’t say no.
But he can scream. He just chooses not to, making at least something unsatisfactory to the Kraang.
Leo is desperate for every bit of autonomy he can grasp.
He didn’t know the word before, but he’s well aware of its importance now. Too aware. The Kraang taught him it, amused for some reason at the idea of Leo learning more ways to describe his personal hell.
He brushes a hand over his distended front.
…Hell’s still the best description he’s got for this.
It starts with a key, and ends with a key.
At least the second time around isn’t Leo’s fault. To a degree, at least. No, the fault this time lay with the Earth Protection Force as they very much did the opposite of protecting the Earth. From what Leo overheard, they had initially had the Kraang Two under lockdown, only to somehow lose her mere months later and be shredded like paper in the process.
Leo’s a bit torn up about that. Ha…
With Kraang Two out and about, it was only a matter of time before she slithered her way back to the remains of Technodrome. How she got the key, Leo doesn’t know. He doesn’t want to think about it.
A small portal was all that was needed.
And- honestly? Leo can still remember the feeling of seeing that portal open. Of seeing that bright light and thinking “oh- they’re here-!” only to have that empty hope broken in a second as Kraang Two’s face peers through the gap, monstrous grin growing at the sight before her.
What little shame Leo had left made him burn ice cold.
The months spent in the Prison Dimension weren’t spent idle, as much as Leo would have really liked any sort of break…ever, really.
No. Kraang One made due on his words. All his wrath is Leo’s. And the Prison Dimension made sure to keep Leo alive to feel it all.
Ripped apart, torn open, bashed into the ground, crushed into mushy dust-
Anything Leo could have imagined and more was done to him there. He had to hand it to the Kraang, though, at least they were creative about it.
His hand brushes against his front again.
…They still are creative about it.
“Look at it all, pest.” Kraang One laughs as he pets Leo’s head, metal digits digging into his skull. “A sight to see, is it not?”
The “sight” is a barren wasteland, covered in flesh pulsating like a parasite.
It’s times like this that Leo would love to quip back. After all, it’s not like he had anything to lose anymore, right?
The empty space within his mouth is heavy with silence.
Kraang One laughs harder. Louder.
A pain rips through Leo, and his claws dig into his plastron a little harder. Kraang One eyes him from its throne.
“Already?” He hums, “Well- “time flies” as you lot loved to say.” A snap of his fake fingers, and Leo is picked up from the ground, the silver bands on his wrists and ankles clinking together.
The Kraang Drones stare blankly at Kraang One, who gives a single wave of his hand. They all know how this works by now.
The Prison Dimension is a familiar cold when he’s thrown back in.
When he is brought back out, his plastron is flattened and his tongue is back. The healing of the Prison Dimension is no joke. And as he’s led back to Kraang One, the searing pain between his legs makes him wish he’d stayed for longer.
Kraang Two is there now too, looking down on Leo with amused disgust. “Look at it- leaking all over the place!”
“It’ll stop soon.” Kraang One waves off, “Now- how many this time?”
A garbled sound comes from the drones dragging Leo, and by now he’s figured out it’s an approximation of the number four.
Kraang One looks pleased, but Kraang Two appears much less enthusiastic.
“Why bother doing such a drawn out method? There are plenty who could do the same - why keep it to one?”
A sharp look makes the other freeze up, Kraang One nearly growling around his facsimile of a smile, “You know as well as I how worthless the results turn out. Even fully grown they are weak.” A tentacle reaches outside of his suit, wrapping around Leo and resting on his front. “You’ve seen the difference, have you not?”
Kraang Two bows her mass of a head, “Correct as always, Brother. I apologize for my insolence.”
“Hm.” Not taking his gaze off of Leo, the tentacle dives lower, and it takes all of Leo’s being to not flinch, cry, scream- “We will have to increase your elasticity. Four should be your median, not your limit.”
Another wave of the hand, and Leo is dragged off once more. At this point he’d rather they just carry him - but he knows they just like being dicks for the hell of it.
At least they forgot to rip his tongue out this time. Lucky him, getting a small taste of freedom.
Ha ha.
Ha…
…How long has it been, now? It has to have been years, but he’s seen himself, he’s seen that he looks identical to way back then. Is it because of the Prison Dimension? Or the Kraang’s “treatments”?
Maybe both?
He doesn’t know, researching shit is more Donnie’s field-
Oh. Ah. He stepped right into that landmine, huh? Huh? Huh? Huh?
His hands twitch. His photo- where is it where is it where’s his photo where’s his family where’s his family?!
Raph, Donnie, Mikey, Dad, April.
Raph, Donnie, Mikey, Dad, April.
Raph, Donnie, Mikey, Dad, April.
Red, Purple, Orange, Gray, Green-and-Yellow.
They’re okay. They have to be. Kraang One would have decorated the place with their bodies if they weren’t. Future Kid has experience with this, he’ll help keep them safe.
He’s strapped down roughly to a familiar slab.
They’re okay.
Flesh-like machinery whirs around him.
They have to be.
He looks up at the purple-red ceiling, distant from the feeling between his legs.
If they weren’t, then Leo would finally be nothing.