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In the wake of an averted apocalypse and the functional death of the world he grew up in (along with the people who loved and raised him), Casey finds that he forgets a lot of things. Like that hot water is a thing he can use again, that he doesn’t have to be on guard for Kraang and their zombies whenever he goes topside, that he has the luxury of options that he’s never entertained in his life. He also routinely forgets that Masters Leonardo and Michelangelo and Commander O’Neil and...everyone Casey’s ever known is gone, but their younger selves still walk around. It hits him like cold water every time he wakes up in the morning and ambles out into the atrium, expecting to walk into a scene he’s lived his entire life, only to find a strange mirror instead. Similar but unfamiliar all the same.
The biggest thing Casey forgot, however, is his brooch. Well. It’s not actually a brooch. Those can get caught on things and torn off way too easily, and neither Mister Draxum nor Casey himself wanted to risk wasting precious time and resources on something he could so easily lose. His is a simple bracelet that fits snugly against his wrist and is easy to hide under his wrist wraps. Since Casey has always been battle ready until very recently, it’s easy to forget about the unassuming item that so radically changes his appearance.
A little more than a month after the thwarted Kraang invasion, Casey trudges into the Lair kitchen like usual, sleep still clinging stubbornly to him as he plops himself onto a stool at the kitchen island. Around him is the usual familiar but unfamiliar buzz. Master Michelangelo--or rather, just simply Mikey now--is making a heavenly smelling breakfast at the stove, Master Splinter stands nearby on a two-tier step stool expertly slicing and peeling fruit with a paring knife (not a daily occurrence, but often enough that it has become familiar), and down the hall, the cacophony of the other three brothers echoes as they approach.
“I still don’t understand why you insist on hanging onto this thing, Donnie,” Raph says.
“But Raphael, my dear brother! While I can agree that this mystic Key is the stuff of evil, there is still much we can learn from it!” Uncle Tello--Donnie, Casey mentally corrects himself--says. “Think of the possibilities! We could achieve trans-dimensional travel! Or even faster-than-light space travel!”
“But what about the Foot? They didn’t learn from the last time their grand schemes backfired spectacularly, what makes you think they won’t just try again?” Master Leonardo--Leo, damn it--points out.
By this point, they’ve entered the kitchen. Donnie holds the deactivated Key in one hand, gesturing wildly with the other. Master Splinter climbs down from his step stool and boldly replaces the Key with a bowl of sliced strawberries faster than Casey can blink.
“Do not concern yourself with the Foot Clan,” Splinter says, placing the Key on the island. “They suffered heavy losses from their hair-brained ritual. What remains are weak, fragmented factions that Casey--uh, Senior, that is--is gleefully picking off one by one.”
Raph crosses his arms. “Are you seriously alright with us just keepin’ this thing, Pops?” he asks, nodding towards the Key.
Splinter grumbles. “Truthfully, I would like nothing more than to be rid of the blasted thing for good, but unfortunately we have no way of destroying it,” he says. He glances at Donnie. “Just don’t plug it into anything, Purple. I do not what to have to clean Kraang gunk out of the Lair again!”
Donnie nods enthusiastically, cheeks round with the bowl’s entire contents of cut strawberries. He reaches for the Key, but Splinter’s tail slaps it away.
“Ah ah! No science until after breakfast!” Splinter chides.
Grumbling, Donnie plops down at the kitchen island as Mikey whips around with plates stacked high with steaming...uh...Casey can’t remember what they’re called. Skillet cakes? Something like that.
Donnie flips down his goggles as Mikey passes out servings, resting his chin on the island while still staring intently at the Key.
“Why are you even so fascinated with this thingamajig anyway, Don? I thought you were strictly a science guy,” Leo asks, leaning himself against Donnie’s shell.
“Ordinarily, yes, but even I can’t deny that I find this item fascinating when it’s not unleashing a planet-wide calamity,” he says. Donnie takes his goggles off and holds them up to Leo’s face. “I mean, just look at the energy this thing is putting off!”
Casey reaches towards the maple syrup and Leo’s browline furrows.
“Huh? What’s glowing on your wrist, Junior?” Leo asks.
“Huh?” Donnie snatches his goggles back and affixes them to his face, suddenly very interested in Casey’s wrist. “Well, that is curious. Your bracelet is mystic!”
Casey instinctively pulls his arm back defensively as Donnie reaches out to touch his wrist, but the mutant turtle’s finger still brushes the bracelet enough to activate it. Or rather, deactivate it.
An involuntary shiver creeps up Casey’s spine as the spell disperses, revealing his true appearance for the first time since he received it. Jaws around the kitchen table drop.
“Oh mi gosh!” Mikey exclaims, pointing. “You’re a mutant turtle!”
“You’ve been a mutant this whole time!?”
“Wait, does that mean one of my sons actually gave me grand-kids?”
“Is it Leo? I mean, he definitely has his marks.”
“Me and Cassandra!? Oh no, April’s gonna kill me--”
Casey lets out a long, shrill screech that cuts about the shocked shouting. Good news is that it works as Casey intended in getting everyone to be quiet, bad news is that Casey realizes he needs to readjust how he talks again.
Dang turtle vocal cord nonsense...
He takes a deep breath, focusing for a moment on the technique Master Leonardo showed him. It's been years now, but Casey still remembers the exchange fondly.
“chiiirrrp-kay first of all--”
There’s a high-pitched cooing that interrupts Casey moments before he’s abruptly scooped up into Raph’s arms. The huge turtle’s tail smacks the ground heavily in naked delight.
Casey sighs. “First of all, none of you are my dad,” he assures. “I was a trash baby. Whoever my dad was, he either abandoned me or died, but I was born human.”
“Wait, so then how did this whole situation happen?” Mikey asks, gesturing to all of him.
Casey shrugs awkwardly in Raph’s cradling hold. “I don’t know! I went to sleep human one day and woke up like this!” he says.
“...Did you by chance see any glowing bugs?” Leo asks.
“Oh there is no way Draxum’s oozequitos managed to somehow make it through the apocalypse!”
“I mean, I didn’t see any, but...”
“...’But?’“ Splinter prompts.
“...But...it would explain why Master Leonardo said something about this being Mister Draxum’s fault...,” Casey answers.
“So does that mean that even in the future, Draxum couldn’t figure out how to reverse the mutation?” Mikey asks.
He shakes his head. “No, no he figures it out,” Casey says. “I just...I mean, being a mutant turtle is a bit of a mixed bag, but I didn’t hate it.”
It was nice to feel like one of them. Like properly one of them. Plus, being able to retract into a shell was absurdly comfortable.
Casey holds up his wrist. “So, Mister Draxum made me this,” he explains. “Master Leonardo never knew. No one did besides me and Mister Draxum.”
"But...why though?" Leo asks. "Why hide it?"
Casey shrugs helplessly. Even he doesn't know why he felt the need to hide that at the end of the day, he didn't want to reverse his mutation. Not fully anyway.
Instead of voicing this, Casey taps the smooth amber square set into his bracelet, activating the cloaking spell once again and wriggling out of Raph's hold.
The larger turtle plops a hand on Casey's head, tussling his hair affectionately. "You don't have to hide with us, you know," Raph assures. "No matter how you look on the outside, you'll always be one of us."
"Yeah! So embrace the turtle every now and then, if you want to, okay?" Mikey adds.
Casey chuckles. "Yeah. Okay."
Splinter claps. "Alright now. As exciting as that was, food's getting cold!" he says. "Everyone dig in!"
Gradually, everyone sits back down, recollecting dropped cutlery and resuming dressing their skillet cakes to their tastes. Personally, Casey likes the sweeter toppings, so he drowns his cakes in maple syrup.
"So what kind of turtle are you, Casey? Do you know?" Raph asks.
"He's obviously a red-earred slider, like me! After all, he has my gorgeous marks," Leo says.
"Actually, Uncle Tello says I'm kind of a mix," Casey says. "I have Master Leonardo's stripes, sure, but my shell's on the softer side and has a hinge like Master Michelangelo."
Splinter smiles warmly. "It is wonderful that even worlds apart, you still carry pieces of your family with you, Future Boy," he says.
Casey can't help but mirror that smile, a warmth curling softly in his very core at the notion. "Yeah. I never thought of it that way," he says. "But you're right."
As Casey and his new family enjoy breakfast, the promise of a new day and bright future ahead of them, Casey absently remembers how Master Leonardo always told him that he'd never be alone, even if everyone was gone. He could have been talking about Ninpo, or memory, but maybe this is why Casey ultimately chose to quietly remain a mutant. So that no matter what, he'd always have a piece of his family with him that no one could ever take from him.