Chapter Text
Donnie found the pamphlet early Tuesday morning and they’d like to think that it was a feat of extreme restraint that it only took him until 20 minutes later to sign up.
He’d had his reservations, of course. He was never the most… emotionally available out of the people they knew, but by all means did they all need the money. Who would have thought that a near brush with the apocalypse would leave you worse off financially than before? Sarcasm intended.
Donnie tended to be the provider for their little family in the traditional sense. Him and Mikey would peruse Repo Mantis’ scrap yard, take whatever they deemed half-salvageable, Donnie would fix it (with minimal lethal upgrades), Mikey would give it a fresh coat of paint, and then they’d sell it to the highest bidder on e-bay. That had worked for a while, but between the lair getting destroyed twice and the multitude of injuries they had all sustained their budget was becoming less and less about groceries and pizza takeout and more about rebuilding their lives. So, if their funds were currently in the red they couldn’t blame themselves. Maybe they could suit the Krang for damages?
Donnie briefly considered asking Draxum to finally pay all of that child support he’d been skimping out on, but decided that it was too much hassle.
Another option was of course stealing to get by but Raph had put his foot down on that one quick, citing that “that’s not what heroes (cue pizza slice) do.” Even though Donnie had insisted that big chain stores wouldn’t even care about a few veggies going missing, Raph’s moral compass was going haywire and Donnie didn’t want the lair to be filled with his going-against-my-core-ethics stink so that option was thrown out of the proverbial window. Even then, after the world nearly ended New-Yorkers were even more suspicious of anything that looked even remotely non-human, so robbing stores would be far more difficult these days, even with their enhanced ninja prowess. Still, the question remained: how are they going to get money now?
Donnie didn’t believe in fate- the universe was a well of entropy, of course- but if they did he’d say it was shining down on him the day he saw that pamphlet. It had been 23 days and 8 hours since the world had nearly ended and their little corner of the world was still healing. Leo had just started to get back on his feet, Mikey’s hands shook slightly less, Raph was able to let them out of his sight for more than two seconds, and Donnie- well, his feelings on the matter were completely irrelevant.
They had just been coming back from their daily patrol around the sewers when a piece of brightly-coloured paper called out to him from the endless green and grey. Curious- because he was always curious, suit him- they knelt down and pulled the paper out of the green sludge it had become stuck in. Embossed on the top was a cheery “Alien Invasion Got You Down?” that elicited a weary ‘scoff.’
The pamphlet seemed to be an advertisement for some sort of mental health chat line- something that Donnie agreed was desperately needed. While his family had managed to get through the Krang invasion with no fatalities (no matter how close they had come to that) they knew that others had not been so lucky.
The paper sported general information about the chat site plus links for where to get help, however that particular section wasn’t of interest to Donnie. He was completely fine thank you very much. And, even if he wasn’t, he didn’t plan on spilling his guts to some anonymous rando behind a screen. They flipped the paper over and the reverse side, however, proved to be far more lucrative.
“WANT TO HELP?
That’s great! We’re looking for empathetic, like-minded people to provide support to the residents of New York City in this trying time.
Great pay and an even greater opportunity to support your local community!
Make a difference, lend an ear, sign up today.”
Donnie automatically scanned the QR code below the plea for sign-ups and it took him to a recruitment page. Basic stuff, no past experience necessary, training provided, yadda yadda yadda. But then he saw the pay and woah boy- they must really need people. It was far more that was probably warranted for a job of this calibre, but they were also a mutated turtle who lived in a sewer and had never worked a day in his life so what did he know? Speaking of payment, that would probably pose a problem since they didn’t exactly have a social security number, but that was nothing that his super-awesome hacking skills couldn’t fix. It was like the answer to all of their his financial problems were handed to him on a sewer-water-covered platter. The only issue that remained was…
Ew, emotions. He’d have to actually talk to people who weren’t his immediate inner circle (barf) and pretend to care about their feelings (double barf). It’s not that he doesn’t emphasise with them, the invasion hit everyone hard and logically they knows that most wouldn’t walk away from that mentally unscathed, but it was another thing having to… discuss all of that with people. Talking about emotions always left him feeling like there was a glass wall between him and the other person that only he could feel. Like everyone else had the ability to reach out easily but he… couldn’t. Ugh, he felt drained just thinking about it.
However, he thought about the number of zeros that would be on their pay check and holy truffle mac and cheese was it worth it. Easily double what he was making off of his refurbished junk with half the hours. It was a dream nearly come true, the only thing stopping him was that their skill set wasn’t exactly tailored to this kind of career.
He briefly thought about passing the baton over to Mikey, letting his nights of Wikipedia deep-dives into psychology and his totally-real doctorate(s) take the lead. But then he remembered his younger brother’s shaking grip as he tried desperately to make them breakfast, erasing a message for the 5th time after his fingers hit the wrong buttons. No, they couldn’t put that on him.
Besides, he was Hamato Donatello, he was capable of anything! He was the youngest A.I. expert in the world, he was the first being other than the Krang to connect with the Technodrome, he had the highest score on Dance Dance Revolution 6 years in a row. Who was he to turn down a challenge?
Yes, he could do this one thing for his family. It was a chance to make himself useful- it would be a cold day in hell before, they let Leo do all the work and get all the glory, after all.
So Donnie saved the sign-up tab to his browser and discarded the pamphlet to the sewer floor (because really, who even used paper these days?) and resolved to fill out the form when they got back.
After all, he had a patrol to finish.
╚═══━━━─── • ───━━━═══╝
Donnie, Raph, Mikey, Splinter, April, and Casey had planned out a rota for patrols almost immediately after the Krang invasion had been thwarted. After they'd gotten through the "OK no one's in active danger of dying" phase they set about working on the next step: ensuring that none of that ever happened again.
After Donnie used a complex geolocation algorithm (see: Google Maps) they had figured out a route that left no stone unturned and no weak link unguarded. The route itself changed per shift at random (ok Donnie had used an actual algorithm for that one) so it would be virtually impossible for anyone to predict their location at any point of the loop. It had taken Donnie a full day to perfect and it was safe to say that they weren't taking any chances.
It took 2 days for April's parents to finally drag her home, so that took her off the rota pretty quickly. She’d run off with a promise of “if any of you die while I’m gone I’ll kill you myself” which everyone had taken with the utmost seriousness. She still visited on weekends but a freshly-established curfew restricted when she was able to come over. Casey had courageously made it to day 4 before Mikey all but shoved him out of the lair. Not by any fault of his own, of course. Ever since they’d come back covered in ash and a whole medical journal’s worth of injuries Casey had been restless. After checking everyone’s wounds and ensuring that they were all relatively stable he was anxious to get out there, eager to help survivors and rebuild New York. Donnie hadn’t spent a lot of time with the kid, but they could tell that whatever he had gone through in the future was bad, like really bad. Bad enough to instil that sort of survivor help-everyone-before-you-help-yourself-attitude. Donnie had a sneaking suspicion of where he got it from. The grief-stricken looks he kept giving Leo as he lay unconscious in the med bay when Donnie had come to relieve him of his watch were enough of a give-away.
So for his sanity Casey was out, which left Raph, Mikey, Donnie, and Splinter to pick up the slack.
That was, of course, until Leo had woken up.
Donnie wasn’t the medic, as most might assume. Yes, he’s got the intellect for it, he would never in a million years deny that, but biology was- for lack of a better phrase- super duper gross. Plus everything was so… anomalous. One person could die of a heart attack if you inject the right stuff, others could take twice the dose and keep on kicking. At least with machines you’ve got some sort of certainty. Medicine? Too much margin for error, too much risk.
Luckily for them Leo didn’t shy away from risk.
…that was also what led to this whole situation. That and the screaming match he was currently having with Raph. And… Mikey?
Ouch, this was going to be a bad one.
Donnie finished their appointed patrol route and entered the lair, following the sounds of elevated voices coming from dad’s TV room. He considered popping two advil to prevent the certain headache he was about to be inflicted with.
“-nope, uh uh you can’t keep bringing that up like it’s even the same thing-“
“Uh, yeah, I definitely can,” Leo said from somewhere on the floor, “If you’re allowed to wander around on your own Mr. I-No-Longer-Have-Depth-Perception then I should also be allowed to go out on the town!”
Dramatic sigh. Since Leo had woken up they had had this argument (Donnie checked his calendar) 4 times, although one could barely be considered an argument because Leo was so hopped up on drugs that he was jumping through hoops just to make a semi-coherent comeback. He still somehow managed though, the miracles of sass that middle children could accomplish was astounding.
Donnie made their way around Raph where he stood near the doorway, years of instinct allowing him to weave around his brother’s frantically flailing hands.
“You’re literally 50% casts right now, Leo!” Their older brother gestured wildly at a lump on the floor- oh, that’s where Leo had gone.
His younger brother twin was wrapped up in a frankly excessive amount of blankets, flanked by an army of pillows and- was that? Donnie dodged a particularly violent hand gesture from Raph to get a better look. Yep those were all of Raph’s favourite plushies. The cuteness of the scene, however, did nothing to dampen Leo’s righteous sarcasm.
“Well I consider myself an optimist, so I’d say that’s about 50% of completely undamaged skin that is ready to get back out there and kick some villain ass.”
“Language.” Raph growls.
Donnie had a feeling that if Leo wasn’t trapped under 20 layers of blankets he’d be flailing dramatically by now.
“While I also consider myself an optimist, this is not the way to go about things Leon,” Mikey chides from his position on Pillow Mountain (copyright pending), “You need to be honest with yourself about your capabilities right now.”
Mikey leaned in close, whispering just loud enough for Donnie to hear, “Plus, you promised me that you’d beat the final boss of the new Lou Jitsu game for me and you can’t practice while you’re out patrolling now can you? Remember our deal? Think about what’s at stake, consider your options…”
A bead of sweat trickled down Leo’s forehead.
Mikey swooped in to give Leo a hug, “Get well soon, big bro!”
Who knew so much manipulation could fit inside such a small turtle? Ugh, youngest children.
Raph pinched the bridge of his nose, “Look, I’m tryna be responsible and look out for ya. We’re goin’ out on patrol because we’re ready to be back out there! Even Mikey waited 2 weeks for his hands to heal up enough.”
“But Mikey’s hands still aren’t at 100%- no offense (“None taken”)- and he’s still going strong!” Leo spoke from inside his blanket cocoon, his voice turned into something more melancholy. The fight left him.
“I don’t understand- why won’t you let me do this?”
They all knew the answer to that question. It hung heavy in the air, unspoken.
Donnie anxiously got out their phone and started scrolling. Might as well make a start on that sign-up form and ignore any emotional revelations that might come his way.
Raph sighed, putting his face in his hands and sliding down onto the floor next to Leo. He placed a hand on his younger brother’s head.
“Raph knows that he doesn’t need to protect you. I’m not the leader anymore, and it’s not up to me to make that decision.” Raph’s voice was watery.
“Soooo”, Leo starts, hopefully, “that means that I can-?”
Raph interrupted him.
“Nope. Luckily for me, oldest brother status trumps being the leader,” Raph said smugly while Leo gasped, “So what I says, goes.”
Leo wrangled his way out of the mess of blankets indignantly, a lighter tone taking back over the room. He flopped on the ground just in time for Raph to grab him in a chokehold.
“Assault!” Leo tried (and failed miserably) to extract himself from under Raph’s arm, “Excuse you, good sir! I’ll have you know that none of that is in the leader rule book-“
“Yeah-uh, yes it is, you obviously didn’t read it closely enough. I had more time to read it than you!”
Donnie eyed Leo’s leg and arm casts, both tastefully covered in Mikey’s doodles and stickers.
“Please don’t wrestle the patient, he’s very fragile at the moment,” Donnie leaned against the wall, eyes still on his phone, “His body as well, not just his ego.”
“He’s right, his ego can’t take another hit,” Mikey said wistfully, “Thoughts and prayers.”
“Oops.” Raph let go and Leo immediately rag-dolled to the floor. And here Donnie thought that they were the theatre kid of the family. Leo rolled around on the floor as much as his bandages allowed him to.
“Ouch! I’ve been hit! I’m grievously wounded, someone call the medic!” He threw a hand over his forehead.
…
“What, too soon?”
Something unreadable flashed in Raph’s eyes and he let out his patented I’m-done-with-your-middle-child-nonsense groan. Leave it to Leo to turn some light-hearted joking right back around to a serious chewing out.
“Look, Leo, Raph gets it, ok? But you can’t keep… rushing off into things expecting them to work out.”
Leo went to make what was probably another sarcastic retort when Mikey grasped Leo’s hand in his.
“I’ll support you no matter what, but do you really think that this is the best decision?”
Leo looked down at their interlocking hands, the scars on Mikey’s a criss-cross of white against his green skin. Donnie was proud of the way they only tremble a little.
“I do.” Leo said, with the determination that a teenager definitely shouldn’t possess.
Raph sighed- he’d been doing a lot more of that lately, “Ok, but just to be safe- Donnie?”
Donnie hummed distractedly and looked up from his phone, “Hyeah?”
“Do you think that Leo’s, er, ready? For going out on patrol? Medically speaking, I mean?”
Donnie considered it for a moment.
“Well, while medicine is not my thing- disgusted shudder- I do believe that some light exercise might be good for his weak old-man bones,” Donnie chimed in, looking back down at his precious LED screen and continuing to fill in boxes.
“Gasp!” Leo said in fake anguish, clutching his heart and once again falling dramatically to the floor, “My poor pathetic bones? It’s actually muscles Don-Ton, but only an advanced medic such as I would know that, so I understand your confusion.”
Donnie’s hands clenched around his phone. They opened a different tab and added another mark to the ever-growing “Number of Time’s Leo’s Allowed to Insult Me Because He Nearly Died” tally. 89/100. So close, yet so far.
“You heard the man- up I go!” Leo dragged himself to his feet, the effort it takes to do so just on the wrong side of concerning. He stretched, bones cracking.
“I’m ready to get out there and let my gorgeous hair down. New York has been deprived of my dashing good looks for far too long. Who’s coming with?”
“Oh, that’s me!” Mikey rushed to his feet, “I’m supposed to be on the next shift after Don.”
“Sounds good to me, mi hermano.” Leo made his way over to Mikey, very obviously wobbling on his feet as he went. He patted Mikey on the shoulder and everyone politely ignored how hard he leaned into it (other than Raph, who had tried very hard not to burst a blood vessel).
"Look at you, you can barely walk straight!"
"Raph-a-la, my dear brother, nothing about me is straight."
Mikey wheezed.
“Look Raph, I’ll be fiiiine,” Leo reached an arm over Mikey’s shoulder and pulled him in tight, “Plus I have a badass mystic warrior to protect me if anything goes wrong.”
Raph opened his mouth.
“Which! It won’t- obviously.”
Raph fiddled with his mask tails, obviously upset about the turn of events- even to Donnie. They wanted to go and comfort him, but before he could even decide if it was needed Raph responded.
“Ok… have fun,” He looked at the both of them like it was the last time he was ever going to see them, which is… ouch, “Stay safe.”
“We will!” Leo’s voice echoed down the tunnel that Donnie had just come from.
“Don’t worry too much while we’re gone ok,” Mikey shouted just as he disappeared around the corner, “Plus we’ll be having words about mother-henning when I get back!”
The sickeningly-sweet tone of Doctor Delicate touch spelled disaster for his eldest brother. Yikes, Donnie would not like to be him.
“…speaking of ‘having words.’”
Sweet Curie save him now.
“Why didn’t you have my back on this? You know how much he’s struggling!”
Ok, he really didn’t feel like being chewed out by Raph right now. He had just gotten to the exciting part of the form- the contact address! He couldn’t wait to flex his hacking skills for that bit. He looked up from his screen to see Raph’s big brother stare locked and loaded. So retreating was not an option.
“I don’t really care what he does-“ Lie, “plus he’s old enough to make his own completely foolish and recklessly bad decisions. Besides, as long as someone is with him he’ll be fine. What else are we going to do, tie him to the bed?”
Wait…
“No Donnie we can’t tie our brother to a bed.”
Damn the Genova conventions, always ruining his plans. Who needed ethical practices when you had science (and a martyr for a brother)? Donnie chuckled nervously.
“Never mind. I also definitely, 100% did not implant another subcutaneous tracker in him… plus a back-up… plus a back-up for the back-up. That totally isn’t something that I would do.”
“Donnie,” Raph puts a hand on his shoulder, “I don’t usually support this kind of serious breach of personal privacy… but can we get some on Mikey too?”
Ah, there was Raph’s going-against-my-core-ethics stink. All of that hard work for nothing.
“Rapharoni, my dearest brother, I am so glad you asked. Now tell me, how do you feel about chloroform-?”
Donnie set off to figure out the best way to implant a tracker into his brother (…again), wandering back to their lab while Raph listened to his tangent. Their back ached after the patrol shift which had aggravated his shell injuries, but that was nothing a little (more) advil couldn’t fix. But before he spent the rest of the day bouncing ideas off of his older brother before his own shift, he opened a tab on their phone once more.
Donnie clicked “send” on the completed application.