Work Text:
Sharp stabs of pain arced through Leo’s shell from where S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N’s metal claws pinned him to the wall. The deafening buzz of the circular saw approaching his brother drowned out his shouts, but nobody needed to be able to hear Donnie to know he was scared. He squirmed frantically on the metal slab he was strapped to, pulling desperately at the manacles that held his wrists in place. His quipping from earlier had stopped as the saw drew closer and his realistic chances of escape sank in. Leo saw real fear in his twin brother’s eyes-- something he hadn’t seen since their first Lair Games. Even that had been tame compared to this. Donnie’s protective shields were cracking, his mental walls being torn down with every inch closer the saw came to tear down his physical ones. Leo saw his brother close his eyes in terror as the sound of the saw changes from an empty metallic whir to the sickening crunch of metal on chitin--
Leo shot upright in his bed, unable to breathe or see. He tore his sleep mask off his face, the elastic snapping painfully on his bare head. Scrambling to free himself from his sheets, he tumbled off his bed. The grates that made up his floor jangled loudly when he hit them. Propped on his knees and elbows, Leo pressed his forehead to the cool metal floor, breaths incrementally slowing until he was relatively sure he wasn’t going to pass out.
In the distance, over the sound of Splinter’s thunderous snores, he could hear Donnie’s ear-bleeding playlist softly pounding from his lab. Guilt twisted his guts into knots as his mind provided snapshots from his nightmare-- no, from his memories. Donnie’s invention, turning on him and drawing an impossibly sharp blade ever closer... Leo stumbled forward and threw open the curtain at the entrance to his room. As expected, he could clearly see Donnie’s silhouette bobbing along to the music, backlit by soft purple lights and bright blue computer screens. Leo let out a sigh of relief at the sight of his brother.
Limbs still shaking, Leo trudged back to his bed, head in hands, to lie awake until morning.
_______________
Mikey was often babied by his three older brothers. It was simply a fact of life for any youngest sibling, and although it could be really annoying at times, most of the time Mikey was able to lean into his unspoken role as the ray of sunshine in their small family. He knew he had a knack for emotions, and he was good at cheering people up at their worst. He could chase boredom from any room, and put a smile on any face with his goofy antics.
Unfortunately, however, his talent for spreading cheer didn’t exclude him from feeling totally un-cheerful sometimes. Mikey stewed in guilt, half-heartedly dribbling a basketball in the atrium. His foundations had been shaken to their core-- a stupid prank gone wrong had nearly hurt their brother, badly. Had revenge really been worth the risk? They were all well aware of Donnie’s track record with new, experimental tech, and a robot assistant with an armada of roombas definitely counted as experimental, in Mikey’s humble opinion. What had they expected, messing around with S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N’s wiring? If Donnie’s constant badgering about messing with his tech was anything to go by, it wouldn’t have taken much for S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N to go all murder-ey.
Leo would say Don’s whining about other people touching his tech was purely dramatics, but Mikey could sense something deeper. A nearly undetectable current of fear running through each and every lecture on lab safety.
Mikey felt like he had betrayed his brother’s trust by meddling with his invention. Sure, the favoritism had been unfair, but they’d gone too far; they'd put Donnie in too much danger. Mikey sighed and tossed the basketball, but he couldn’t even enjoy this satisfying swish of the net when he scored. He let the ball bounce away into a corner as it lost energy and settled sadly under a bench. Mikey wished he could do the same-- he didn’t want to play anymore.
______________
Raph didn’t exercise to work out anxiety. Anxious workouts were usually less productive, and he had a dangerous tendency to overwork himself in such sessions. Of course, for somebody like Raph, anxiety was a somewhat constant undercurrent. If he wasn’t allowed to be anxious at all when he exercised, he would never work out. So, he had made it a personal rule that he wasn’t allowed to exercise just because he felt anxious, even when that’s all he wanted to do. It was sometimes hard to differentiate between regular anxiety and his strength-related worry, but typically, he could meditate away his general anxiety before his workouts if he was unsure, while his more dangerous anxieties refused to budge.
Of course, at this moment he was itching to lift some weights to rid himself of the lead feeling in his belly, and meditation was doing absolutely nothing for him. Thoughts swirled in his mind; Donnie’s terror as he watched a whirring circular saw approach his plastron featured greatly. Even as he tried to clear his mind of the event, to replace the scary images with thoughts of Donnie safe at home, his mind would pervert his peaceful memories with terrible, increasingly outlandish accidents. A family movie night was interrupted by a sewer pipe bursting and electrocuting them all. Chilling with his brothers on the skate ramp turned into a horror show when they all fell from the third floor of the atrium and didn’t get back up. The peace that had settled over them as they stargazed was shattered by the chopping of helicopter blades as government scientists descended from the sky to take them in for experimentation.
If he could have failed Donnie like he did, who’s to say he couldn’t fail all his brothers? If it hadn’t been for a burrito-loving glitch overriding S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N.’s murderous tendencies, Donnie would be turtle soup right now.
Raph let out a breath and opened his eyes. This had been counterproductive, leaving him more anxious than he’d been before. He stood from his lotus position and stretched the tenseness from his back. It was time to try something else.
_____________
Donnie wasn’t one to let his emotions get the best of him. His brothers all had a tendency to wear their hearts on their sleeves, but Donnie saw it as an unnecessary vulnerability. Just like his soft shell, he protected his even softer heart behind layers of high-grade titanium and carbon fiber. It was one of the reasons he was ruthlessly teased for sobbing during the ending of Jupiter Jim: The Wrath of Mars IV when Jupiter Jim’s loyal friend Professor Neptune sacrifices his life to save the Martians from deadly radiation. They never expected Donnie to show so much emotion, especially since he rarely did when it really mattered; they could come home battered and bruised, having had their butts handed to them by some new bad guy, and he’d remain unaffected, but a movie could make him break down in tears? He knew it confused them, but he couldn’t help it-- he had to stay stoic for his brothers. He was the rock, the genius; if he was afraid or upset, that meant whatever it was had to be big and bad. He wasn’t above a certain level of emotionalism for dramatic effect, but he couldn’t bring himself to let his brothers see that side of him. The icky, emotional, real side, who sometimes couldn’t handle the pressure, and who, every once in a while, wanted to do nothing more than run away and cry.
So, when Donnie’s super-intelligent lair AI-slash-prankbot went horribly murderous, he tried to remain unaffected in front of his brothers.
Surprisingly, it wasn’t the giant saw or the laser Roombas that got under his skin the most (although they were certainly disturbing), but rather the things S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. said-- outright or by implication only. It said a lot of things, admittedly, many of them ridiculous, but when the AI really started to get murderous, he kept going on and on about replacing Donnie as the fourth brother. His own robot-- under his brothers’ influence!-- had intended to kill him and take his place in his own family.
The thought was more disturbing than Donnie let on; Somehow, in his anxious, self-deprecating brain, it didn’t seem like too far of a stretch.
After all, for all the griping and groaning his brothers did all the time, they did get pretty excited about his tech-- just like the Purple Dragons had, before they had taken his inventions and left him in the dust. Was it really that unreasonable to think that his brothers were only keeping him around for his genius? That a robot replacement-- with all his best qualities and none of his worst-- wouldn’t be a pretty sweet deal for them? They might feel bad for a while, but wouldn’t the fantastic robo-brother be enough to take their minds off it?
Logically, Donnie knew that if they had felt that way, they would have left him for dead on that operating table, circular saw inching forward to turn all his squishy insides into squishy outsides. But it didn’t stop the questioning. If S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. had simply been less murderous in his attempts to get rid of Donnie, they wouldn’t have had to live with the guilt of killing him before replacing him. Maybe if S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. had simply been more cunning, slowly inserting himself between Donnie and his brothers over time, they would have been more receptive to his plans. Would they have even noticed? He had long since come to terms with the inevitable distance between him and his brothers that came with keeping his feelings hidden away so completely, and every few months he would stay locked in his lab for days or weeks at a time, coming out only for meals and bathroom breaks unless some crazy huge mission came up. Wouldn’t they prefer a brother who could hang around the skate ramps while simultaneously designing complex machinery in a completely separate subroutine? Not to mention, at least a robot would have an excuse for being so emotionally unavailable, what with having a naturally limited emotional capacity to begin with.
Donnie sighed and shook his head, standing up to stretch. It was no use thinking along those lines now that S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. had been destroyed. He tapped his shoulder to release his battle shell from his back but quickly replaced the feeling of lightness and vulnerability with his favorite purple sweatshirt. He trudged out of his lab toward his room, muttering a command for his battle shell to fly itself to a charging station. He yawned on the way to his bed, looking forward to some much-needed sleep. It was true he had a bad habit of getting too caught up in his work to remember menial tasks such as sleeping and eating, but he never actively tried to stay up for days at a time. When he did, it was simply an accident caused by a combination of insomnia and being in “the zone,” as Mikey liked to call it. When he came out of it, he was always bone-dead tired and usually slept for much longer than he would have otherwise, so really it was only logical to at least attempt to keep a reasonable sleep schedule.
As he walked through the atrium, however, he felt the tell-tale tingle of being watched. When he turned to look at each of his brothers in turn, they were all conveniently looking in different directions. It was all extremely suspicious. He took a moment to take stock of his energy, trying to determine if he was awake enough for this conversation. He looked more closely at each of his brothers: Leo lay in his bed with the curtain to his room wide open-- his sleep mask was on, but his posture was far too tense for sleep; Mikey was forlornly kicking a basketball back and forth between himself and a wall; Raph was sitting on the skate ramp, knitting furiously with a ball of purple yarn. Donnie sighed and decided that even if he wasn’t awake enough for this, he should get it over with sooner rather than later.
“Guys, uh…” he began, eloquent as ever. His brothers looked up from their distractions to glance at him, and then each other. Leo even peeked out from beneath his mask. Donnie pressed on. “I think we need to talk about today.”
Mikey deflated, shoulders slumping, while Leo and Raph tensed up like he’d screamed at them-- or like he was going to. All of them looked away guiltily. They must have been thinking about S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N.
Donnie took a deep breath. “I just wanted to say… I’m sorry.” If Donnie hadn’t been more focused on his toes than his brothers, he would have seen their jaws drop. “If I hadn’t programmed him to play favorites, then… well, you guys wouldn’t have felt the need to mess with him and he’d still be here. I know you guys really, uh… liked having him around.” More than me, he didn’t say.
Suddenly, a sob broke the silence. His head flew up to look at his brothers, and he saw Mikey crying in the middle of the atrium. “Oh, Mikey, I’m-- I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bring up… I know you guys probably miss hi-- Oof!” Donnie was interrupted by Mikey coming at him with a running tackle hug, shaking his head furiously and nearly knocking Donnie off his feet. He only managed to keep them on their feet by shifting one foot back and wrapping his arms around his little brother in a tight hug, using his body as a counterweight against the force of the impact. At least a robot couldn’t replace him for this, he thought. Not yet, at least.
Donnie looked up as he heard Leo approach. His twin brother’s face was twisted in what looked like a mix of anger and confusion. “Donnie, you can’t really-- You don’t really think we miss him, do you?”
Donnie felt his own brow furrow. “Of course you guys would miss him. I mean, I wouldn’t blame you for it. He was pretty fun to have around, before all the attempted murder, and… Well, he kind of made some good points, you know?” Donnie chuckled, in a poor attempt at humor. He could tell he had failed when Leo’s face crumpled like Mikey’s and tears started to leak from the corners of his eyes. Donnie panicked and tried to backtrack. Maybe he wasn’t as funny as he thought. “I-I mean, uh, Leo--”
Leo cut him off. “You honestly think we’d rather have a crazy murder-bot than a super-genius brother?” he asked, hurt bleeding through his voice no matter how he tried to hide it.
Donnie shook his head, staring into space as he rubbed soothing circles into Mikey’s shell “No, Leo, of course not, but if he had been less murderous, then maybe we could’ve worked something out. I mean, you guys joke I’m part robot all the time anyways, and half the time I’m holed up in my lab, caught up in some crazy new gadget, forgetting to eat and sleep. Maybe having a robo-Donnie around instead wouldn’t be so bad. Best of both worlds, you know? All the inventing genius with no pesky strings attached. Anyway, it’s all a moot point now because-- why are you all looking at me like that?” Donnie had glanced up from his rambling monologue to see all three of his brothers staring at him like he had grown a second head. With no prompting, Mikey’s muffled sniffles exploded into renewed sobs and he clutched his older brother in a death grip. Raph abandoned his knitting, lumbering closer. He was too choked up to trust his voice, so he simply wrapped his huge arms around his two baby brothers and let his actions speak for him.
Donnie looked helplessly at his twin, caught between his youngest brother’s tears and his oldest’s bulk. Leo shook his head and blinked, causing a few more fat tears to roll down his cheeks. “Donnie.” He started solemnly. “We don’t want a robot for a brother. We love you . Even if you never invented another thing in your life, we would still love you, because you’re our brother . No robot can change that, or replace you.”
Donnie felt Mikey nod furiously into his plastron, and a few wet splashes on the back of his neck told him Raph was crying now, too. He looked at Leo, whose eyes still shone with tears, and a familiar lump grew in his throat. He felt an old wall in his heart crack, and he didn’t try to stop it. A choked sob forced its way out of his throat, and soon the floodgates opened. Countless years of tears ruthlessly shoved down came crashing back up, released in a torrent of sobs. Donnie couldn’t form a complete thought as the catharsis washed over him, releasing a twisted knot in his heart he had forgotten was there. Raph lowered himself to the ground, taking the two turtles in his arms down with him. Leo wrapped himself around Mikey’s other side, laying his head on Donnie’s shoulder as he continued to cry. Donnie moved one arm from Mikey’s back to clutch at his twin like a lifeline, sobbing uncontrollably into his shoulder.
Donnie felt open and vulnerable as he cried. But surrounded by the warmth of his brothers, he also let himself feel truly, completely, unconditionally loved for the first time in a very long time. Safe and warm in his brothers’ arms, he let himself have this.
_______________
When Donnie’s cries subsided, Leo pulled away to look at his brother’s face. He gave a wet chuckle as he realized that Donnie had been so exhausted by his outburst of emotion that he had fallen dead asleep on Mikey’s shoulder. The display of trust warmed Leo’s heart and he felt better after having cried. Mikey seemed to agree, giving him a watery smile as the four stood up in a silent agreement to go to bed.
As Raph carried their resident genius to his room, Donnie’s peaceful, sleeping face seemed to chase away all the knotted worry in his gut. He tucked a blanket around Don’s sleeping form, and softly whispered:
“Sleep tight, little brother.”