Work Text:
"Alessandro, I trust you can go out and dispose of your comrades. They're becoming increasingly irritating and are a bump in the road. And as you know, if you fail there will be dire consequences..." Sandro stood before the three Krang siblings, listening closely to the eldest with a dead stare.
He was pretty out of it today, he hadn't gotten enough sleep the night prior. He just couldn't get to sleep when he had a feeling of... guilt? No, it couldn't be guilt he was feeling, maybe it was just stress, this is the middle of the apocalypse after all. But he knew what stress felt like, he felt it when he was still a spy for the resistance.
He quickly shook that feeling away and nodded once at the Krang.
"Yes sir, I'll dispose of them soon enough. I understand how much of a nuisance they are to your plans for take over."
"This is not just for us, you know. They disrespected you at every turn and treated you as some follower who can't make decisions for himself, did they not? Especially that purple smart-ass. We on the other hand allow you to make decisions for yourself, minus the missions we send you on." The eldest was right about that, but Sandro still didn't exactly like the thought of killing his... well, his past-family in this sense.
Sure, he hadn't been bothered by the idea before, but after seeing them get hurt on the battle field so many times from his side of the apocalypse, he couldn't help but begin to question his decision for switching sides. He guessed the look on his face made the Krang wonder what was going on in his head because he looked back up when he heard the sister speak.
"Do I sense GUILT in you? I better not, otherwise I might have to kill you, with the permission from my brother of course. And let it be known I've been wanting to get a good kill in..." He gulped and shook his head quickly.
"No ma'am, I'll get it done. I'll return to you three when I've finished the job." And with that he left the main room to return to his quarters to grab his weapon(s); his different sized shurikens always worked.
Different weights, different purposes, and slightly different shapes were useful. With a heavy sigh, he put on his game face and tried to get that stupid feeling to go away. As he went through the winding corridors to leave, his thought were racing from memory to memory. The memories of reading to Donnie, Leo helping him draw stripes on his face so they could match, climbing on Raph's back in failed attempts to hug him from behind, sitting in the living room and drawing with Mikey while their dad watched his TV shows...
What was he thinking? Those memories were from when they were from when they were young, still innocent and care-free. Not a problem in the world to worry them as they played their games.. had their dumb little competitions... their "sleepovers"....
"Ugh, stop it, Sandro. They hate you, they think you can't think for yourself and that you're a B-Grade version of your stupid blue younger brother... you got this. It's just a simple job: get in, kill them all, get out. That's easy." When he finally got to the exit he paused and listened to the gunfire, the growls from mutant dog-like creatures, the booming footsteps of the robots, everything.
He watched the fighting going on until he spotted three of his brothers, who were are all fighting in different sections of the battle field. He felt sick to his stomach as he watched them struggling. Trying their best to win this fight that they could never finish victoriously. Taking a deep breath, he sprinted out towards his brothers, trying to figure out who to dispose of first.
Mikey? No, he upsettingly needs help for that. Leo? Also no, he can teleport and he's stronger than him, not to mention that he could easily beat him into the ground with just the right moves. That left Donnie. His tech-savvy younger brother. He was smart, but he was also a bit dumb at the same time somehow.
His lungs felt like they were on fire as he ran, the air was dry and filled with smoke; no wonder it hurt to breathe. Mid-way through he had that feeling again. That guilty feeling. He was running to murder his younger brother. The one that he read stories to and laid under weighted blankets with the promise he would always protect him.
He couldn't- he couldn't do this- but he was already almost there, he might as well just get it done. He can feel terrible about it later... he didn't want to suffer the wrath of the Krang siblings. He stopped when Donnie looked up at him after slicing open one of the Krang zombies.
"Oh well if it isn't the traitor, Sandro Hamato. You don't even deserve that last name anymore after what you did." He spat, a glare set on his face.
If looks could kill, that glare definitely would've murdered Sandro by now.
"So, are you here to try and get rid of me and our brothers? Bosses orders I'm guessing?" He asked, his gaze not leaving Sandro's eyes.
Sandro didn't respond, he only looked down and slumped his shoulders forward. His voice was caught in his throat. He knew what he wanted to say, but he just couldn't speak.
"Your fake sympathy and guilt is not going to fool me or our brothers. So I suggest you quit with this whole little act and just fight me already."
Sandro was about to get ready to fight him, but he couldn't even bring himself to grab one of his shurikens, so he just stood there and waited for Donnie to make his move and kill him. He didn't really care at this point, he deserved it anyway. He betrayed his family and friends, he deserved to die. He didn't realize his eyes had been closed the entire time until he heard a quiet gasp from in front of him after the all too familiar sound of a lazer gun went off.
Sandro opened his eyes and one of his hands immediately covered his mouth. He was staring at Donnie, who was now holding his free hand over the right side of his chest and dropping his tech-bo to the ground. He watched in horror as his little brother dropped to his knees and pulled his hand back to look at the blood that coated his palm. Before he could fall onto his side, Sandro was already there to catch him so he wouldn't hit his head; not like that would do any good though.
He stared at Donnie, who was on the verge of tears from the pain he was feeling.
"I-It's ok. You're gonna be ok, Donnie. Y-You're ok..." He didn't notice that he was crying until he felt his tears fall on his hand.
He was cradling Donnie at this point, holding onto him as tight as he could without causing him any more pain.
"Donnie look at me, you're ok. You can get through this, it's ok." He made Donnie look at him, but it just made his heart break more.
Oh God this is his fault. This is all his fault. Maybe if he had been paying attention he could've pushed him out of the way so he would be the one that got shot and not Donnie. Maybe if he had started the fight then Donnie wouldn't have gotten shot, but that was unlikely... he didn't know what else to do except apply pressure to the wound, but that wasn't going to help.
It was a clean-through shot, there was no stopping him from bleeding out. And Donnie could barely breathe.
"Donnie, just hang on. I-I'll get you to the base and we can have someone take care of you, ok? Stay with me here." He pleaded, he had forgotten about his mission and now all his focus was on his brother.
He was panicking internally and externally before being startled out of his panicked state by Donnie putting a hand over his own. He didn't say anything for a minute, but when he did speak his voice was rhaspy and he was gasping between words.
"... Sandy..." there was his nickname. His stupid little nickname that he had acquired when he was younger.
"Donnie, don't talk. Save your strength-"
"Sandy, just listen to me... I'm sorry for... how the others and I treated you... you're not stupid... I'm sorry for everything I said to you before. I didn't mean it... I was just angry, as usual..." now those words shocked him.
Donnie... didn't think he was stupid? He was apologizing? Donnie shouldn't be the one apologizing here.
"Donnie please, stop talking, y-you need to save your strength until we can get you somewhere... that we can get you help..." He wanted to stay positive, he wanted his brother to live despite the orders he was given, but there was no helping it.
He had already lost a lot of blood and it was still pooling beneath them.
"Please don't go Donnie, please. I'm so fucking sorry please don't go... don't leave me and our brothers... Donnie?..." He had still been applying pressure to the wound, and in doing so he realized Donnie had stopped breathing.
He felt like his own heart had stopped as flashes of those precious memories turned to dust. He was holding onto the one he had promised to protect, but he had failed. He failed. He. Failed. This was his fault.
"Donnie wake up, c'mon don't do this to me. T-This isn't funny. Wake up!... please, please wake up.... don't leave me..." now he was full on sobbing and just let his emotions loose.
All that guilt that bad built up? He let that loose, all that anger? He let that loose too. Every fucking emotion he had felt during his time in this apocalypse he let loose.
"DAMN IT! DONNIE PLEASE WAKE UP!..." He hadn't even told his brother that he loved him before he died, he didn't get the chance because he hadn't realized he died.
He loved his brother to death. Literally. They hadn't always seen eye-to-eye, but they were brothers; the unconditional love was there even in death.
"God fucking damn it, I'm so sorry... please don't go..." if he could swap places with himself and Donnie, he would.
His little brother would still be alive. He'd be dead, but Donnie would be alive. Sandro laid him down and just stared at him. Donnie looked like he was at peace, despite how he had died. A gunshot to the chest and he still looked like he was at peace.
Sandro grabbed Donnie's tech-bo and stood up, leaning on it for support to keep himself from falling back down on his knees.
"God what have a done... I'm so sorry, Donnie..."