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"I feel like my head's never been emptier," Leo sighed.
Donnie paused in wrapping his brother's arms to raise a brow at his twin. Leo stared at the space above his head, distant and contemplative as he continued.
"Usually, I got thoughts running a mile a minute in my mind, and now it's just… quiet. Maybe I'm tired…"
Donnie continued wrapping his brother's arm. Leo didn't seem to mind his lack of response, leaning his head into his pillow and murmuring as Donnie tended to his injuries.
"I feel like I have nothing to say, nothing interesting. I'm just so," a sigh fell from Leo's lips, "blank."
"...but not a sad kind of blank?"
Leo's attention slid down to his brother. He watched Donnie snip the bandage, finish off wrapping his arm and move across the room to toss his gloves and wash his hands before responding.
"No… not a sad blank. Just… empty."
Donnie hummed and sank into the chair by Leo's bedside, massaging his shoulder and tapping at his tech brace now that his task was finished.
"I feel like I used to have so much more energy, and we're not even that old yet, Don. We're just sixteen, and I'm already tired!"
"Uh-huh…" Donnie agreed absent-mindedly, intently focused on whatever was on his screen.
"It's like… for the first time ever in my life this place seems… small. Does that mean I'm growing up?"
Leo dropped his head and fiddled with the fabric of his blanket between his fingers.
After seeing the devastation of the once huge Krang invasion in that portal and being flung back to a burning, but still standing, New York, the lair just felt like… a tiny place or something. A home that no longer fit him. He felt… changed. In an unfixable sort of way. Removed from the kid who used to run through these sewers and attempt 360s with his brothers on haphazardly built skateboards.
He was still mostly that kid but different now. Grown a bit. It was noticeable in all the tiny little things. His feelings when he scanned the lair and noted its familiarity but didn't feel…anchored to it. He was untethered. It was like, he looked at his father, and yeah, he loved and needed him, but he didn't feel reliant anymore, like…
"Suddenly, I feel like we grew up, and I never even noticed it happening."
Leo dropped his head back against his pillows and let his hands fall. He hadn't realized he'd worked himself up so much.
"We're almost adults now, Donnie," he breathed in realization, "Sixteen years… God…"
All at once, everything just felt so big. The sky was so huge, the horizon was so distant, and the world—the universe just had so much space and so much yawning time. And here he was with sixteen years. Sixteen years with maybe forty more to go, a couple more decades than that if he was lucky.
How had he lived a whole period of his life already? He'd barely even…
"God, Donnie, it went by so fast. We were kids."
"Hmm. We're still kids, Leo."
"Yeah, but Donnie!" Leo sat up in his seat and gestured passionately at the air, "Sixteen years! What is that? Like a fifth of our lives? Maybe a sixth? That's insane!"
His earlier numbness was gone now, replaced by spinning thoughts, Leo was quickly being overwhelmed. Thinking about it now, he was so young and already—
"Did we just save the world for a second time, bro?! How are we not freaking out?! I feel like we should be freaking out a lot more, man. We saved the world! Again! Like, what?! Huh?!"
If Leo wasn't on strict orders to stay in bed and, y'know, didn't have a ton of broken bones in him, he would've been pacing the floor.
"Sixteen years! Done-zo! Gone-zo! Sayonara'd—"
"None of those are proper words—"
"Hail Mary! I don't know, Donnie!"
"We're not Catho—"
"I'm just— I'm— "
Leo caught his breath, and his vision finally cleared, allowing him to take in his brother's cool, emotionless expression attempting to hide the worry in his eyes. But Leo could read his twin like an open book. He sank back down again and looked to the ceiling—neutral ground.
"I'm just not ready," he finished softly.
For it all to be over. The adventure, the excitement, the laughter, the love, the good times and the bad times, and all those cliche 'moments in between' with his family, with his friends, in this city, in this world, in this life—he wasn't ready to—
"I thought I was," he admitted to Donnie in a whisper. Leo closed his eyes. "But it's scary, y'know? It was still scary then, and now I can't get over how scary it all is. Because it never was supposed to happen, and it didn't, but so easily, it c—"
A hand landing on the top of his made him stop and open his eyes. He looked to Donnie, but he couldn't see his face. His twin sat with his head bent to the ground, but his hand held Leo's in a tight, fierce grip.
Leo flipped his palm over and gave his brother's hand a squeeze. He took a breath and relaxed again.
"Sorry," he whispered.
Leo could hear Donnie swallow, but the purple turtle did not reply.
A thick and slow guilt filled him now, not allowing him to look at Donnie. Gosh, he was so dumb. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Why'd he bring all this up? He shouldn't have opened his mouth.
He always ranted too much, especially with Donnie. He'd grown so comfortable blurting whatever came to mind around his twin that it was hard not to pour his guts out, even though he knew Donnie sucked with all this mushy stuff.
It was just that… what Casey Jr. told him about the future. About Raph and Donnie…
Leo gave Donnie's hand another tight squeeze, feeling the warmth of the other's hold and focusing in on the sound of his breathing and slight movements.
Just imagining living in a world without his brothers…
He couldn't. He couldn't imagine it. There were no words to describe—something so lonely, strange, and wrong in so many ways. Such a world even existing…
Almost… almost… way too close for comfort.
"I'm sorry, Donnie," he whispered again to his brother, trying to convey sincere regret in his words. Inwardly, he couldn't help but think, though:
I don't regret it. I would've done it again. I'd rather die than live in a world without all of you. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.
His twin knew him too well because Donnie released his hand.
Leo glanced up. Tears sprang to his eyes upon seeing Donnie's face. The pull of his brows dragged across his wrinkled forehead and pursed lips—crumpled, heartbroken, furious. Donnie took a harsh breath, and his expression closed, forcefully shutting itself down.
And that hurt too.
The purple turtle snapped his head downward, and Leo could see him grinding his teeth behind his closed lips. Leo looked down at his own palms and traced their creases, making a map of the intersections and crossroads.
"You're not sorry," Donnie hissed finally.
Leo stared at his hand, remembering the sight of it reaching his youngest brother's. The tips of his fingers illuminated by the warm orange glow of the portal his family had ripped in the fabric of space and time to get him back, interlocking with Mikey's, hands locking around his wrists, his forearms—grasping at whatever of him they could reach, pulling him in. The three of them, with tears in their eyes, staring at him as he smiled and made a joke.
"I am," he muttered hesitantly.
"No, you're not," Donnie snapped.
And then Donnie murderously hurling a mystic spear at the Krang's dumb loser face.
Leo's temper flared at the harsh tone. He jutted his chin up and glowered at his brother.
"I am."
"You're not!"
"I am!"
The twins glared at each other, fists clenched and jaws set.
"Are not!"
"Am too!"
"Are not!"
"AM TOO!"
"ARE NO—!"
" HEY!"
Leo and Donnie whipped their heads around, hands flying to their startled hearts. Raph sternly glared at them in the doorway of the medbay.
"Raph is trying to sleep ," the eldest turtle stressed in a harsh whisper, "Donnie, I thought you were gonna keep Leo company."
Donnie ducked his head shamefully. Raph turned his stern glare on Leo before he had time to feel any sense of victory.
"And you," Raph jutted a finger at him and narrowed his eyes, "lay back down right now, mister, or Raph will tie you down to that bed, understand? Both of you!"
Donnie and Leo stared downward, trying their best to look properly scolded. Raph flickered his narrowed eyes between them and then firmly moved two fingers from his eyes towards the two of them in the universal sign for 'I'm watching you bozos, so you better behave.' He moved away from the doorway, leaving the twins behind in a blanketing quiet.
Donnie returned to fiddling with his tech brace, and Leo stared into space, head turned away from his twin brother.
This was so awkward. He shouldn't have said anything. Donnie had come down here to keep him company because he kept whining, and he had been happy to have some twin time with his bro. Now he had ruined it with his weird, existential ramblings.
Gosh, he didn't mean to snap at Donnie. It was just an instinctual thing, kinda. That sounded bad, but like, Donnie was his twin, so it just came natural. And he was feeling so lost and emotional right now. Just thinking of all of what could have been and what had been…
Donnie had… died in the future. Died before he did. Raph and Donnie…
Living like that. Waking up in the morning, and no Donnie. Pouring himself a glass of water, and no one propped on an elbow and sipping from a mug of flavorless juice across from him. Walking through the hallways with no one ignoring him on their tech brace, listening to his ramblings with cool hmm's and uh-huh's. In his room, in the training room, walking on the street, standing on the rooftop, and no one, no one, no one—silhouettes and memories, and he's just gone. But seeing him everywhere.
Everywhere.
All the time.
Turning around, turning left and right, looking around and seeing no Donnie was so… So, so—unnatural.
Donnie being here was so natural. Having him here was so normal. Him not being here—
That just wouldn't be—
It wouldn't be—
What kind of world, what kind of life—?
He…
How did he—?
"I wouldn't be sorry either," Donnie whispered.
Leo closed his eyes.
His breathing—in and out, in and out. His chest rising, the blanket under his fingers, covering his body; the light above him, visible through his eyelids; Donnie in the chair nearby. Still here. Still real. Still alive.
Leo opened his eyes and got an arm under himself. He carefully propped himself against it and lifted his body—feeling every creak and twinge of a bruise or healing cut, every ache and throb of a jolted bone or sprained joint. Donnie watched him sit up without moving to help—staring at him emotionlessly.
That was the best thing about Donnie being the one keeping him company in the medbay—Raph was a mother hen, Mikey was too strict, April was too wild, and Splinter was awkward, but Donnie just watched you and waited. And waited. If you wanted something, you could say it. Otherwise, Donnie would maintain his distance. Well, it was a little awkward. Anyone else might've felt uncomfortable, but Leo grew up under that analyzing data-collecting stare.
He shared a room with it for most of his life. It settled something in his soul and helped him to swallow the pit in his throat and meet his brother's gaze with a weak smile.
"If you never say that again, I won't either," Leo said softly.
His twin gently removed his penetrating gaze from Leo's person and placed it neatly on his lap—putting puzzle pieces together in his brain.
Gosh, his twin was so weird.
Leo smiled at his hands and fiddled with his blanket.
"Deal," Donnie said eventually, tone hushed.
"Deal," Leo murmured back.
The blue turtle laid back down and threw an arm over his eyes. God, everything in him was so sore, and his head was so fuzzy. All that medicine running through him… He wondered if he'd even remember this in the morning.
Leo sucked in his lips and clenched a fist into his blankets—fighting as his face caved in, his walls buckled, and he strained against the tears in his eyes, the weight in his chest and the stupid, illogical grief filling every empty crevasse of his body. He took a deep breath and clamped down on it, pushing it all away and pressing his arm down against his closed eyes.
Donnie never said anything. He never so much as made a peep or reached a hand over.
Anger, gratitude, helplessness, and fear—so much fear—hit him like bricks to his skull. Again and again.
God, please.
His breaths came shakily and broken. He gasped them out like he was drowning in them, trying to make them sound steady. Failing. Focusing instead of keeping them locked enough that the tears wouldn't fall.
Please. Please, please, please— please, God, please!
Donnie sat in the chair by his bedside and stayed there. Quietly, unmoving, still as a statue. His brother.
Don't ever—
His brothers.
If he ever lost them…
—make me live in a world without them.
What would be the point?
Don't ever make me save a world that doesn't have them in it.
What would be the point of anything without his twin—
Please don't make me do it. Please.
—his elder brother—
I couldn't do it. I couldn't live—
—his little brother? How must it have been? How had his future self lived for years in hell? Two of his brothers— two of them—dead.
Fury and fear and anguish. Leo's hand dug into his blankets, twisted and tightened.
If you make me live like that
His arm was wet. He hid his face deeper into it and grit his teeth against the rage.
If you take them away from me
Leo inhaled deeply through his nose and tried to hold it in. Keep it inside him.
Fuck. You.
The soft sounds of Donnie's tech reached his ears at some point, the taps of his fingers against his brace, and eventually, the anger seeped away. Tiredness took its place. Tiredness, helplessness, and sadness. All he was, all he is—all of it—sad. Helplessly, endlessly— sad.
There was no better word for it.
Leo fell asleep trying to cage his heart back in his ribs and learning how to breathe without breaking—with that steady, calm, constant gaze on him.
Donnie let his head drop into his hands and sighed. He looked up at Leo again, watching his chest rise and fall—finally asleep.
He rubbed the back of his neck and leaned back in his chair, letting his head fall back and flop so he could stare at the ceiling.
…God, he was the most useless brother in the world.
Donnie stood up from his chair and busied himself with checking all the monitors one last time before he moved to the doorway. The lights turned off with a flick of the switch.
Donnie moved to leave and paused. He looked back again at his twin brother, lying peacefully in bed. He glanced out towards his room and back again at his sleeping twin.
His fingers drummed against the doorway. He walked back to Leo and stood looking down at him.
He watched his chest rise and fall for a moment more.
Then he sat.
Donnie fell asleep, wishing he knew what to say and do to help his brother. Cursing himself and regretting not being better —he fell asleep cramped uncomfortably in the chair next to Leo's bed.
[And for those who stay by our sides.]