Archive of Our Own

As Donatello woke from a restless sleep this morning, he realized very quickly that today would be one of Those days.

As ominous as it sounded, it genuinely felt that way. He would have no clue on what was wrong, yet couldn't erase the stomach wringing feeling of being on edge. He would get fussy, even towards the things he normally wouldn't bat an eye.

Then there came the guilt, but it was too early to think of such things.

He put his hair in a high bun, fully aware of the fact that if he let them down, he would be ticking yet another box in the Things That Bother Me list. The roots of his hair felt as if they were glued on. The hems of his shirt felt like it was sewn with metal thread. His beloved comfort hoodie sat on his shoulders weird, making him think wrong, wrong, WRONG.

Donnie walked past Leo changing his shirt. It was likely his twin didn't get a touch of sleep, judging by how heavy his eyelids hung. Somehow, Donnie couldn't find it in himself to ask why. He felt… no, he didn't feel. Somehow, the very act of feeling seemed like a burden.

At the breakfast table, a sleepy Mikey greeted him. Raph, being the early riser, was seemingly almost over with his share of food. Mikey's plate of scrambled eggs were gone halfway through, yet two untouched portions of it were waiting at the table.

“‘Sup, fam?” Leo ran down the hazardous stairs of the attic carelessly and immediately threw himself onto his chair. He jostled Mikey's already messy hair, then a grin split in his face. “Tamogoyaki! Sweet!”

Tamogoyaki meant dad made the eggs. Dad making eggs meant he was apologetic for his absence. His absence meant there was likely a tournament at the dojo, and he would be home maybe at midnight.

Donnie decided on not thinking about how that made him feel, much to Dr. Feelings’ chagrin, and stared at his eggs. Splinters's cooking was precious. Ever since Mikey decided that actually, the kitchen was his territory now, his dad cooked less and less. It meant he only did it on extreme occasions, like if one of them got sick or when he would leave for work at the crack of dawn. The ultimate love language of an Asian parent.

It didn't magically make him good at cooking, though.

Splinter was likely to make errors in his cooking and call them happy accidents. Finding multiple pieces of shells in his scrambled eggs wasn't particularly a happy experience for Donnie. He tried not making a face as he pushed his plate to Raph and stood up.

He may have been skipping breakfast, but he would like to eat lunch. Well, try to eat, at least. As he opened the fridge to pull out his bag of baby carrots and cucumbers, he heard Leo groan.

“Really, Dontron? Why do you insist on eating like a herbivore?”

Donnie took out the bag of plain, salted crackers as he glared at his twin. Leo immediately wore a grin and downed almost the entire egg. Donnie felt the remains of his dinner in his throat (which was probably none. Mikey tried a new recipe that had Donnie's stomach rolling yesterday.) and tried to tune out the inevitable smacking noises.

He stared down his twin. “Why do you eat like an animal?”

Raph full on cackled, and Mikey looked less sleepy now. Leo did something akin to a bow with a hand on his chest and— Donnie turned his back to him. He's been stuck with this idiot since the womb. Donnie knew the very thing Leo would do was to grin with a full mouth. He didn't think he had the capacity to deal with such a scene right now.

As he washed his vegetables and made thick slices of cucumber into his bento box, the rest of the family went onto their own mindless chatter. Raphael was mourning the jacket he forgot at school yesterday and how it was likely stolen by now. Mikey complained how it wasn't the same without his older brothers, and he wanted this year to end quickly so he could join the rest in high-school. Leo cooed at how little Mikey was, “their itsy-bitsy brother still stuck in middle school”, and got his finger bitten in return. Mikey announced he would make vegetable casserole for dinner tonight, through Leo’s wails.

At one point, Donnie tuned out, used to the constant buzz of the house. He loved it and wouldn't change it for a thing in the world. (Yes, not even Uranium, Nardo.) He also hated it sometimes, mostly on Those Days.

As he filled his thermostat with coffee, someone’s fork hit the plate a bit too harshly. Donnie put down the mug in his hand, hard. It was a jerk reflex, yet he couldn't deny the homicidal rage the noise made him feel. The contents inevitably spilled on his hand, and as he rushed to the kitchen sink, he could feel the eyes boring holes at the back of his head.

“You OK, Dee?”

Donnie focused on his burnt hand instead. He hissed in pain and ignored Mikey's question, which most likely made the whole thing worse. If anything, he opened the gates for Raph’s mother-henning now.

“I'll get the burn cream,” said Leo, already up and leaving the room. It wasn't long before he returned with his own first aid kit, a small bag in azure blue. He made sure Donnie kept his hand under the running water for long enough before turning the faucet off. Then he pulled out the cream and dried his twin’s hand with some paper towels.

Leo stared at the cup of coffee on the countertop. “You sure you should drink that?” he asked, as he applied the cream. “You are jumpier than usual today, hermano.”

To be honest, if Donnie didn’t drink his daily morning coffee, he would probably combust right then and there. It would just add on to that vague problems pile. So Donnie simply chose to shrug silently. It wasn’t like his brain gave him lots of verbal options, either. Currently, there was a soup of words in his mind where he would form his sentences. Each echoed loudly in his mind, refusing to follow one another.

Leo stared at him, surely with the anticipation of Donnie spilling the beans. If there were any beans, they were buried too deep for Donnie to dig out.

Leo pursed his lips and slapped Don’s arm, as if to say, “Alright then, go.” Donnie wasn’t about to miss this opportunity. He swiftly left the kitchen, sticking his bento box into his bag and the thermos under his arm, and made his way to the front door. As he crouched down to tie his shoes, a pair of purple sneakers, he heard the others coming his way. His too long fingers jumbled, the sore part of the hand shining with the fresh ointment. He growled under his breath as he stared at the tangled shoelaces. Donnie once again reminded himself to get shoes without laces the next time. The way he and Leo were growing, it would be soon enough.

He opened the door and practically threw himself out of the house. Leo, with his own pair of same sneakers but blue, ran after Donnie. Now he had an expression that was very evident: Concern. Sigh, Donnie thought, why wouldn’t Leo just drop something for once? Well, it wasn’t like being stubborn was reserved to himself— they clearly shared this feature as twins, along with their faces. But Donnie truly didn’t want to dwell on whatever was wrong with him at the moment. Because he felt like if he refused to acknowledge it, it would disappear. It would never be real. He would be left with a clear emotion in his chest he could discern —happiness— and go on with his day.

Even though he knew there was no fooling his (surprisingly perceptive) twin, Donnie shot him a smile. Leo raised his eyebrows. Donnie stuck his tongue out and strode away the concrete path. Leo ran past him. Donnie sprinted after him to get to the bus stop earlier than Leo. Somewhere behind them, Raph sighed.

Something about this whole chain of events gave Donnie a sense of comfort, a pinch of familiarity. They did this yesterday, and the day before, and simply ever since they started school. It didn’t matter that they started high school two months before. Things were still the same, to some extent.

Yeah, thought Donnie. Everything’s fine, brain. Stop freaking out.

As soon as the bus arrived, Leo and Raph put Donnie the first in line to get on the vehicle. It was an unspoken rule, or spoken but not next to Donnie, to give him the chance to find the best spot for himself. If there was an empty seat (an unlikely occurrence) they would make Donnie sit, with no questions asked. If there was a slightly empty corner, they would put Donnie there and stand around him like walls of meat.

Donatello stood between a pole and a window, facing the window that was laced with grease stains. It was a simple trick he liked to use to tell his brain to shut up, no he isn’t in a very crowded bus, don’t you see outside? Look how the sky is clear, and the sun is out! Raph’s cheap deodorant filled his nostrils, and Leo’s blue hoodie stood in his peripheral. Yet there was something, something that felt wrong. It tugged at the edge of his mind like an annoying child would at someone’s clothes.

He felt a touch on his shoulder and he jumped. Like, at least a few inches, because he felt the top of his hair bun touch Raph’s chin. As he whipped his head back, he met with a stunned Leo with a reaching hand, no doubt the culprit of the unwarranted touch. He stumped down the growl stemming in his chest, and asked a very curt, “What?”

“OK, I swear I called your name,” said Leo, defensively. As Donnie stared him down, he pointed at the device around his neck. “Your headphones, Dontron. I was wondering if… Since you are not using them, I can borrow them, right?”

There was an edge to Leo’s voice, a tone that usually meant he was plotting something. But Donnie got too mad, too quickly to decipher it. “No, you cannot,” he snapped, appalled by this guy’s audacity. He put on the pair of headphones with one swift move. As he turned on the noise-canceling, he stared at Leo’s (inexplicable) grin.

If he ever got his hand on a machine to read minds, Leo would be his first subject. Right after himself.

The noise of the bus got muffled, not entirely gone but still a satisfying amount. The weird-wrong feeling in his chest got less prominent, as if he sandpapered its edges. Donatello sighed as he put on a song from his Morning Bus Ride playlist, hoping it would help his mind to shut up. It didn’t, but at least the screams got reduced to insistent whispers.

As they got off the bus, April greeted them. Donnie pretended to be too busy on his phone, ignoring the fiery conversation April started to spark. Leo indulged their friend with passion, filling in Donnie's absence.

Raph and April took off, having their first period together. Leo nudged Donnie's arm gently and jerked his head towards his own friend group. Donnie stared at the group of teenagers laughing obnoxiously, and tried not to roll his eyes as he saw one of them bouncing a basketball while expectedly staring at the passersby students. As if someone would look at him with boggled eyes and exclaim how cool he was for pulling off such a stunt.

“I'll be going now, ‘kay?” Leo pulled Donnie out of his thoughts with a voice so painfully soft. He looked at Donnie with eyes full of emotion, as if he actually didn't want to leave his twin's side. Donnie just shrugged.

Leo gave a big sigh, and patted his arm in farewell. Donnie watched his twin’s retreating back before he made his way to his locker.

***

Math was supposed to calm him down.

The last time he uttered this sentence, Leo had accused him of being adopted. But it was true, because to Donnie, the numbers made sense. There was a fixed sequence, a certain way to arrange them. However, today, not even numbers extinguished the burning fire in his chest. He physically felt his face flushing, too cold and clammy hands clashing with his too hot head.

The guy behind him (Dave? Josh? Donnie had no idea and frankly, he didn’t care) chewed on his gum rather obnoxiously. The girl next to him shook her leg, making her desk creak with each motion. The teacher must’ve bathed in her “Sakura with amber undertones” perfume, because Donnie could swear he could taste it. Each time her clacking heels passed by him, it invaded his lungs mercilessly.

Donatello was trying to fill his rather simple worksheet. Calculus, easy-peasy. He used to do these when he was a wee lad. Yet, today, his brain refused to cooperate. The numbers swum in his vision as he tried to block out the smell, pushing his nose into the crook of his elbow. The fluorescent lights above him buzzed and made the paper laying on his desk glow under blue light. This classroom was a specifically designed torture chamber for him. Thankfully, he only had a few more minutes before he would be freed of his agony. Then he would go and wind down at the physics teacher’s office.

When the bell went off, he didn’t even register the teacher reminding them of the material for the next lesson. He felt his shoulder ramming into someone else’s, but by the time he realized it, he was already too far to apologize. Donnie shook his head, trying not to get lost in this sea of adolescents. He fixed his gaze on the tip of his sneakers and made his way to his usual lunch spot.

He knocked and let himself into the office. Mr. Raymond’s face lit up when he noticed Donnie, and the old guy gave a bright smile. “Mr. Hamato, please come in,” he said, as if this wasn’t a daily occurrence. Donnie gave a brief nod and settled down under the window, his usual spot.

Donatello was not the one to get close with the teachers. To be fair, that was the case with everyone except his family. Throughout his school years, lots of teachers took a liking to Donnie, likely because of his excellent academic work and quiet demeanor— but Donnie never reciprocated these feelings. Most of the time he didn't even understand why. So what if a student completed the materials expected of him— was the bar that low?

It was different when it came to Mr. Raymond, though. It was the first week of high-school when a very distressed physics teacher entered the classroom, juggling a malfunctioning laptop in his arms. The others opted out of helping the guy, likely because they were too dumb to skip the opportunity of a free period, but Donnie was bored. He approached the teacher's desk and offered his help. The guy must've been too desperate, because he immediately accepted the help of a student he'd known for barely a week.

Donnie took a close inspection and- Oh. The guy was desperate, actually. This was no simple “turn it on and off again” issue, but rather a virus. And seemingly a tailored one specifically for Mr. Raymond’s laptop.

Donnie pulled a chair and tried for the better half of the lesson to undo the damage the virus had done. He found the encrypted files, signed under the name “Purple Dragons”. If Donnie had seen a stupid group of coders, they were these guys —who would sign their name under a crime, for God’s sake? Unfortunately, they also happened to be the robotics club of the school he looked forward to joining. Well, not after this incident, obviously — Donnie would rather eat Hawaiian for a month than to be seen with those idiots. No wonder why April had told him to not bother with those guys.

Whether the Purple Dragons had a personal feud with Mr. Raymond, or they wanted to get a hold of his laptop to get early access to his exam files, Donnie didn't know. What he knew was he managed to get the device to a functioning state before the first period was over. And he'd never seen a grown man with a balding head look at him gratefully with stars in his eyes. He'd like to keep it that way, actually. But he wasn't about to pass on the chance to get a quiet spot for lunch. He tried to go to the cafeteria one (1) time, and. Yeah. It wasn't pretty. Also, he would be alone no matter what, with Raph sitting along his tight-knit group of friends and Leo eating with the basketball team he recently joined. Donnie was a big fan of solitude and grease-less air.

Mr. Raymond returned to his own work, his fingers clicking rapidly against the keyboard. Donnie took out his bento box from his backpack and opened the lid. Slightly dried looking cucumber slices and dulled baby carrots greeted him. A handful of salty crackers at the side looked crushed from being rattled in the box all day. Donnie’s stomach gave a sad, disapproving churn.

Something echoed from the hall's speakers, and Mr. Raymond looked startled. He glanced at the ticking clock on his wall, his face now morphing into concern. “Ah, I completely forgot,” he complained, as he stumbled out of his desk. “The staff meeting! Donatello, will you be alright on your own?”

Donnie would be more than alright, actually. He nodded sharply and saw the man's shoulders sag with relief. The teacher left the office shortly after grabbing his jacket, and closed the door behind him. Now, there was nobody to witness Donnie's stare-down with his food.

He didn't want to eat it. He knew he had to eat it. After skipping breakfast and barely going through yesterday's dinner, the only thing that passed his lips was plain, black coffee. Donnie logically knew that he should be hungry. Donnie couldn’t register the fact if he was or not.

His stomach felt like it clicked itself shut, like the office door just did. The very act of putting something in his mouth, chewing —Oh God, chewing— and then having to swallow it felt- Felt. Felt too much, even. Donnie was fine with the current ashen feeling of his mouth. He didn't think he had the capacity to put anything in there.

He felt as if the moment something went through his lips, he would be entering an unknown territory. Something would change, but not in a good way. Was he uncomfortable now? Yeah, sure he was. Was he hungry despite not feeling it? All the data pointed to it, yes. Was he also totally, certainly, 100% not feeling like eating? Also yes.

He closed the lid and slid the box back into his bag. He pulled his legs to his chest and hugged them tight, burying his face into the groove between his knees. The purple bandana slid down his temples and soaked in the sweat gathering on his forehead. His stomach spasmed, shaking his entire frame. He shivered as he took a deep breath. This morning's wrong, wrong, WRONG feeling was going off strong. Donnie didn't have the power to fight it.

A knock rapped on the door. Donnie immediately untangled himself and took his phone in his hand, putting on the act of Oh, He Was So Normal Actually— he definitely wasn't about to cry and make himself feel even worse. Donnie peeked at the ajar door, expecting a very early Mr. Raymond, and- Oh. Leo, his twin, looked inside.

“Oh, no Raymies? Sweet!” He walked in with long strides before towering over Donnie. Two more heads popped in, staring at Leo rather confused. Donnie recognized the faces as Leo’s friends. He turned his gaze back up at his twin.

“What’re you doin’ here?” Donnie slurred. His raspy voice from being unused made him wince.

“What am I doing here? Hah!” Leo gave a rather boisterous laugh before putting a hand on his chest. “Checking on my dear brother, of course! This morning, your looks were less than stellar, especially next to my handsome face.”

“Wow, that's a really high bar, Leo!” said, one of the guys. The sarcasm in his voice was so evident that even Donnie didn't need to think it twice over. The other dude slapped him on the shoulder, silently laughing along with the other one. As if there was a hilarious joke going on. Donnie stared at them with slightly furrowed brows.

The guy who made the joke shifted on his feet, uncomfortable. “We'll practice some passes,” he called out to Leo, a basketball in his hands. “Join us when you can.”

He turned his back and left, leaving the other guy to get flustered and hesitantly close the door behind him. With his friends now gone, Leo dropped the knight in shining armor act, and crouched next to Donnie.

“So this is the office?” He looked around, taking it all in, then ending up where he began again. It wasn't a very big room.

Donnie shrugged, not sure of how to answer. Of course this was the office, why would he be here if it wasn't?

Leo laughed, rolling his eyes. “Yeah, I figured.” His twin telepathy has always been stronger than Donnie's. Donnie gave him a wry smile.

“Does your brain ever produce Beta waves before you speak?”

“Dude, you do not need to be a nerd to ask if I think,” Leo answered, rolling his eyes. Of course he knew about the different brain waves, this guy was an insomniac. He tried anything to get those sweet Delta waves. He probably knew all the nooks and crannies of a brain— gyri and sulci, even. Yeah. He was pretentious like that.

“And, sure I do,” Leo continued. “Can a guy who doesn't think do this?” He pulled Donnie's bag to himself and took out a full lunch box. As if to rub it in his face, he shook it slightly, making its contents rattle.

“Do what?” Donnie feigned ignorance with pursed lips. “Commit breach of privacy?”

Leo rolled his eyes, opening the box. “You need to eat, man,” he said, plainly. “That big brain of yours needs those sweet, sweet nutrients. C'mon.” He stabbed one of the cucumbers with the fork and offered it to Donnie. “Do it for me?”

Donnie stared at the cucumber that was dried around the middle. It already started to get wrinkles because of the still warm fall weather. There was no doubt that it would be dry against his tongue, the texture making him squirm. Even the imaginary scenario made him feel weird. Donnie sealed his mouth shut, turning his face away. He didn’t even want to see food, let alone eating.

“Aw, that bad?” Leo sighed, putting the slice down. The contents of Donnie’s bag rustled. A moment later, Donnie saw a water bottle being offered to him from his peripheral. It was full to the brim, not even a single sip was taken. Leo shook the bottle with a tilted head. “Let’s try some water first, OK?”

He tried swallowing the nothing in his mouth and— yeah. His throat was dry, so he was possibly thirsty. That was the problem with him: he would forget to eat and drink, then his body would send some signals he couldn’t understand. He would sit there wondering why he was feeling off until his dad or one of his brothers pointed it out to him. It was like detective work, listing all the symptoms, only to reach a result that was infuriatingly obvious to the other people. Yet another department for Donnie to fall apart from the others.

Donnie hesitantly reached for the bottle. His hand shook, and Leo took it as a signal to open the lid for him. For some reason, Donnie’s face burned even further. He attempted for the bottle once again, harsher this time, and took a big swig. And— he had really wanted to feel no different after drinking, as if that would prove that his problems were not so simple for a mere sip of water to solve. Instead, he felt the cool liquid dampen the scratchy surface down his throat. His tongue didn’t feel as huge in his mouth. The fire behind his eyes faded.

He put down the bottle and Leo took it away. Almost one third of it was empty now, and something other than thirst burned Donnie’s head. He could feel Mikey helpfully suggesting “embarrassment” at the back of his mind. He ran a hand down on his face, the soft sleeve of his hoodie drying the droplets of water that dribbled down his chin. Donnie pulled his legs to himself once again and rocked back and forth. The water in his empty stomach sloshed.

“Alright, I know this makes me sound like a jerk, but you still need to eat, dude.” The telltale sound of the plastic box’s opening lid filled the silence. Leo sighed, not with any particular emotion —at least not with disappointment. “Take your time,” he said, leaning against the wall beside Donnie. His lock screen opened with a digital click. From what Donnie saw, Leo was now scrolling through one of his many social media accounts.

Donnie, for no particular reason, inhaled sharply. That made Leo look up and put down his phone. He shook the fork with the cucumber in offering. This time, maybe because Donnie knew how stubborn Leo could be, he untangled his legs and let his tense shoulders sag. Leo grinned and passed the fork to his twin.

Donnie stared at the wrinkly green thing for one last time before putting it in his mouth. Before he let himself feel its texture, he immediately bit it, smashing it into miniscule pieces. The little moisture remaining inside the slice burst, and Donnie took a deep breath. It wasn’t too bad— but it also wasn’t great, so he clenched and unclenched the fists on his lap.

When he opened his eyes, he met Leo’s proud smile. He rolled his eyes as he took the fork again— with a carrot, this time. Although its exterior was darkened, Donnie didn’t dwell on it too much. He broke it in half between his teeth, making the crack! echo through his skull, and— Oh. He reached for his bag, looking for the water. Leo seemed alarmed for a second as he passed him the bottle. Donnie washed down the contents of his mouth and tried not to acknowledge the tears stinging at his eyes. He flapped a hand, trying to forget how rubbery the carrot felt. Eugh.

As he returned the bottle, he turned his face away. He didn’t have the energy to deal with the inevitable crushed look in his twin brother’s eyes.

“Wanna try a cracker?” Leo, with an intact cracker in one hand and the water bottle in the other, pleaded. Donnie inhaled sharply, the air whistling between his teeth threateningly, but Leo didn’t budge. He looked at him with huge eyes that suspiciously looked like Mikey’s. So that’s where Mikey learned it from, Donnie thought. He glared at his twin, earning himself a grin.

The cracker was once again pushed at his face. “Come on, man. I can eat some alongside, if you want?”

“No,” signed Donnie, sharply. He did not want to add the chewing noises from another person to this already mess of an equation. He gingerly took a bite from the cracker, then immediately washed it down with water before the dough had a chance to stick to his palate. Leo quickly passed him another one. They repeated this until there were no crackers in the box, broken or whole.

Despite the remaining vegetables, Leo closed the box and put it into the bag. He stood up, stretching his back. He looked so proud of himself, and he made sure Donnie knew this with a bright grin.

“Why do you enjoy torturing me?” Donnie stared at him with dead eyes as Leo cackled.

“I wouldn’t do this if you didn’t need it to live, bro, trust me.”

“Uh-huh. Is that why you have the Wikipedia page of ‘beach balls’ printed on your wall?”

Leo helped him to his feet, glancing away. “Pshh, that’s for research purposes.”

Donnie raised an eyebrow, hiding it behind the now damp bandana. Leo pointedly didn’t look his way, putting his hands in pockets and whistling comically. This got a chuckle from Donnie, making his twin smile. It was no crafted, plastered on smile. It was the one that Donnie knew was real.

“You know we can go home early, right?” Leo eyed him carefully. “Like, I’m down for it.”

“You are just saying that because you have Math now,” replied Donnie, dryly. He actually appreciated the offer, he really did, but… What good was home going to do? Despite the comforting environment, Donnie knew it wouldn’t feel right. He never went home this early. Besides, it would be empty at this hour, with Splinter at the dojo and Mikey at school— and Donnie didn’t think he could stomach the eeriness of it. Very liminal space-esque. His house was only complete when it was full of noise. Full of life.

Leo made a face as if he got caught, perhaps only to indulge Donnie. “This is high-school, bro. You gotta skip classes at some point.”

“I never said I wasn’t going to.” Donnie threw his backpack on a single shoulder and smiled smugly to a stunned Leo. “I’ll be at the library.” Because he didn’t even want to think about the shrill voice of the biology teacher. Because he hated even thinking about what they were going to do at the lab today. Dissecting eyes — eugh, moist, rubbery eyes — would simply be too much. Bio had always been Leo’s forte, anyway.

For a moment, he considered switching places with Leo, as good identical twins would do. Leo was born an actor and Donnie was a theater kid, so they could actually pull it off. Possibly. Donnie wryly thought of the fact that he'd be giving Leo the chance to pull a stupid stunt and ruin his repetition. The last time (and the only time) they ever switched places was when they were eight, and Leo had abused his power to convince Splinter that Donnie loved spinach.

No switching places, then.

“Oh?” Leo cooed, putting a hand under his chin. “Is my ‘No Absence Streak Through Middle School’ brother entering his rebel phase?”

Donnie opened the office door with rolling eyes. “Call it puberty.” He dived into the sea of students, knowing Leo was hot on his heels. He made his way to the library among the others who would soon start their free period. Taller seniors loomed over him, but his default facial expression did a pretty solid job of cutting the crowd. He went towards his usual spot, the farthest table at a cozy corner. Leo stood idly as Donnie spread out his materials onto the table. A drawn on eyebrow rose as Leo just kept standing there.

“Are you not going to join your friends?” Normally, Leo would never miss the chance to hang out with those guys. Honestly, Donnie initially thought the novelty of basketball would wear off after a while, but much to his surprise, his twin has never even skipped practice. Donnie was happy for Leo, because he knew that Leo sometimes felt self-conscious compared to his brothers for his lack of hobbies. With Donnie’s packed schedule with robotic meets and windowsill full of plants, Mikey’s arts and crafts and Raph’s consistent work-outs at the gym, Leo didn’t have much going on. So their dad fully supported his son’s interest in basketball and encouraged him to join the tryouts. Donnie wasn’t surprised when Leo got into the team. His twin had always been agile and harmonious, unlike himself.

“Eh, we have, what, five more minutes? Before the lesson starts?” Leo shrugged and settled down next to Donnie. “I prefer being here. If this won’t be more boring than Math, that is.”

“Can’t promise,” said Donnie, his voice flat. “Have you ever been in a library before? We have books, here. Some of them even have numbers in them.”

“Nooo!” Leo splayed out onto the table dramatically. “The ordeals of having a nerdy twin!”

“I’m surprised you know that word.” Donnie eyed the gradually more irritated looking librarian and pat Leo on the back. “Quiet, Nardo, or we’ll get thrown out.” Leo peeked out between the arms over his face, his eyes shining slyly. Donnie scowled before Leo did something stupid like shouting at the top of his lungs. “Don’t you even dare.”

“Argh, you are so boooring.” Leo straightened his back and opened one of Donnie’s books. His brows furrowed, as if it would help him understand while reading it upside down. 

Donnie sighed, shaking his head. It would be a long few hours for him.

***

Donatello practically launched himself onto his bed.

Normally, he would get out of his school outfit into a more comfortable one, but he didn’t even have the energy to take off his socks. That was the issue in general: he did not have the energy.

Leo stayed for his basketball practice after school, and Donnie had returned home with Raph. And this had Donnie wondering: How? How did people find the energy to do such things? After existing for an entire day, how did they even find the motivation to speak, let alone to exercise?

Some people had jobs after school. Some of them stayed for some extra complementary lessons. Some of them were downright insane and did sports. And here was Donnie, face buried into his comforter, body splayed over his bed. His socks were rolled down uncomfortably, leaving his heels exposed, but he couldn't even bring himself to fix that.

Sometimes he wished he could transfer his consciousness to a robot. That way, he would live his life to the fullest, with only the necessary information entering his brain and non-exhaustive energy usage. He avoided sharing this desire with the others, lest he'd be proving Leo right with his “Dontron” shtick— but sometimes Donnie truly wanted to be a machine. Sometimes he didn't even feel that different when compared to one.

The sad part was, it wasn't always the case for him. There was a point in his life where he would go to swimming after school or on weekends. It wasn't a distant point, because it was literally two months ago. What has changed?

Well. Everything did.

But also, not much did. He still went to school with Leo. He still had lessons starting at 8 am. He still took the bus, he still did homework, he still endured the noise and the smells and the lights-

Donnie hit the bed with a trembling fist. He hated this. He didn't even know why.

The last time he tried to pick up his latest coding project was two weeks ago. After a not so fruitful session, he had dropped it. Ever since then, not even the thought of coding seemed appealing to him. He couldn't even force himself to watch a comedic video from a programmer. Once a fuel to the burning passion in his heart, the thing that literally took space in his mind 24/7 and got him through life… was now reduced to dust. He reached a metaphorical hand to it, and nothing reached back.

He once listened to a very sad Mikey, complaining about how he just lost his hyperfixation. Mikey had explained it to be infuriating and downright draining. According to his baby brother, the gap between the two hyperfixations were the hardest times of his life. Living would become a burden as his mind would be a barren land, and he'd try to find the joy he would get from a hyperfixation from anything, only to face utter despair.

At the time, Donnie couldn't do much except nodding along. Frankly, he couldn't imagine what that would feel like. Sure, he did get hyperfixated on a subject sometimes, making sure he knew everything about it in and out— but it wasn't the same. He always had his special interests to rely on the moment the magic of a fixation wore off.

Now he knew exactly what Mikey was talking about. Donnie was an empty shell, a walking husk of a human being. A robot without its Central Processing Unit.

Either the sensory issues that got cranked up to an all-time high was a result of this, or this was a result of that— didn't matter. What a vicious cycle. He was still having one of Those Days.

The clattering of pots coming from downstairs muffled through the closed door. Mikey must've arrived, later than his brothers, thanks to his school being slightly further. Also because he's likely stayed at school for club activity. He was an active member of the Art Club. Donnie vaguely remembered him talking about an upcoming exhibition.

He wasn't jealous of his brother, no. Art was easily the only subject Donnie fell behind, when compared to his class— those hands simply weren't made to hold sharpies and brushes. They were for building intricate circuitry, or at least, they used to be. So why did the thought of his brother enjoying himself while painting a canvas make him feel this way? Feel that, as if, there were a bunch of cords deep within his chest, and they were pulled, about to be snapped?

He took a shuddering breath and his whole frame shivered. Somewhere behind him, a door opened.

“Dude, did you seriously not close the window?” An incredulous Leo made his way to his own bed and promptly closed the window beside it. “I left it open, so our room could have some fresh air— not because I want to sleep in a walk-in freezer!”

So that's why the cars were louder than usual, Donnie thought. He didn't have the energy to reply to Leo. Also, he was kinda cold. Apparently, the only cause for shaking was not exhaustion.

Likely because of the absence of an answer, Leo shuffled towards him. The freshly applied post-practice deodorant wafted over as he loomed above. “Are you asleep?” Donnie looked up at him for a moment.“Sorry. Didn't mean to wake you up.”

He didn't, actually. Donnie was in a state of hazy reality, not quite asleep, but not quite awake either. The tides of sleep licked at his feet as he stood on the beach of suffocating consciousness. If Mikey had heard Donnie thinking of such things, he would freak out. It wasn't Donnie's fault that confusion itself made it too hard to live, sometimes.

Donnie raised a shaky thumbs up. Leo huffed out a humorless laugh.

“But since you are awake now,” he said, nudging his arm, “Get up. No, don't give me that look— Go, wash your face.”

Donnie groaned into the soft comforter.

“Bet you didn’t even wash your hands when you arrived. I’m right, aren’t I?” His twin brother sighed, holding Donnie’s elbow for support. When Donnie didn’t pull away, he tugged at it, helping him to his feet. It took an embarrassing amount of energy for Donnie to keep his head vertical. Thankfully, Leo didn’t leave his side and walked him to the bathroom door.

“Dinner should be ready soon,” Leo called out from the room. His voice was muffled through the running water. Donnie didn’t reply to this very open statement as he took out his contacts. He loosened his hair tie while staring at his reflection: it was so bizarre to remember he had this face, this body. Of course, he logically knew he owned them— but it didn’t always occur to him that others perceived him this way. With his cold gaze and the flexed jaw, there was no wonder why Leo was the more approachable one of the two. Shocked gasp.

He put on the large pair of glasses as he noticed the pair of pajamas left by the door. It was an Atomic Lass merch made from cozy, purple fabric. He shed his current outfit and let the soft sweater envelop him. The Atomic Lass with her electron gun stared at him through the mirror, under the text “SPREADING NEGATIVITY”.

When Donnie walked out, Leo was on his bed, lazily scrolling through his phone. As he noticed him from the edge of his view, he quickly jumped to his feet. With a grin, he threw his arm around Donnie’s shoulder and directed him towards the stairs.

“Heard that Mikey was making chicken Katsudon,” he told him. The smell of fried chicken supported his claim. Donnie’s stomach growled —which wasn’t subtle— and it had Leo wiggling his eyebrows like the asshole he was. The thought of eating was still, well, unappealing. However, after feeling evidently better with the forced lunch he had today, Donnie was in no shape to refuse.

Besides, Mikey’s chicken Katsudon was something of a feast. It was easily one of his comfort foods.

Donnie untangled himself from Leo’s hold— not because he was bothered by the touch, but rather, he valued his dear life. Trying to go down the narrow stairs like that would be signing his death sentence. With a soft pitter-patter, he made his way to the kitchen. Raph was the first one to notice his arrival.

“Hiya Don!” He scooped up a big amount of rice from the rice cooker and put it in a bowl, passing it to Mikey. Through the sizzling of frying chicken breasts, Mikey hadn’t heard him at first, but noticed him thanks to Raph’s exclaim. With his smile, the kitchen lit with the power of a thousand suns.

“Hey bro! How was your day?” He waltzed around the dining table and placed down the big portion in his hands to Raph’s spot. With a grin, he skipped back towards the frying pan. Donnie’s lack of answer made him do a double take. This time, he asked, “You good?” in sign.

Donnie gave a brief nod as he settled down. Leo sprawled onto the chair next to him. He had a mischievous glint in his eyes. “This bad boy,” he announced, gesturing at Donnie, “Skipped his first lesson today.”

Mikey whooped while Raph exclaimed “WHAT?”. Donnie threw Leo a glance, hoping it could emulate his death-lazer stare desire. It didn’t, as Leo’s head stayed intact. It did make Donnie a victim to an attempted headlock, though.

Raph passed Mikey another bowl. “You are a bad influence on him, Leo,” he complained, his Raph-chasm deepening. He looked like he was preparing for a long-winded speech, but he got distracted with the opening kitchen door. His face lit as he grinned. “Dad!”

And sure enough, Dad was here. He had the exhaustion draping over his figure, but he gave a warm smile nonetheless. A round of greetings rose. “Ah, my kids,” he replied, fondly. He walked up to Mikey and gave him a smooch. “Katsudon? What a nice surprise, Orange.”

“Thanks, pops!” Mikey gave a side hug (that Donnie knew was bone crushing) and returned to his pan. Splinter made his way to the twins sitting at the table. Leo clung to his dad, devouring the attention.

Donnie stared at his dad. “I thought you’d be home late.” His hoarse voice cracked miserably, but Splinter paid no mind to it. He scraped Leo off of his arms and gave a soft kiss on top of Donnie’s head.

“We had belt exams,” he explained, gently. “It was easy to wrap up early.”

“Ooh!” Leo’s eyes lit, hungry for drama. “How did it go?”

Splinter flashed a smug smile. “All of them passed.”

“Huh…”

“Don’t huh at me, boy! Who was their sensei, after all?”

Mikey made his way to the table with two bowls in his hold. “‘twas you, dad!” He earned a head pat as he set them down, then he stuck his tongue out to Leo. This sparked a tongue-sticking competition between them— that is, until they each got a smack on the head.

“Behave, you two! I raised you better than this.” Splinter sat down at the head of the table and raised his chopsticks. Despite his harsh words, he looked at them lovingly. “Please, dig in.”

The others didn’t hesitate for a second as they took generous bites out of their chicken slices. Donatello, on the other hand, stared at the steaming food. The cracked egg on the chicken was laid out nicely, with not a single eggshell in sight. The chicken was put beside the lump of rice instead of on it like the rest, as Donnie didn’t like his foods touching each other. He even had a glass of diluted apple juice next to his bowl.

His brothers (or rather, just Leo) often made fun of him for it, calling it “flavorless juice”, but that was because Donnie couldn’t stomach the taste of regular tap water. It tasted like pipes. Donnie found the solution in mixing it with a small amount of apple juice. When the others realized this invention helped him, they supported him without question. It didn’t save Donnie from occasional brotherly jabs, though.

For some reason, the sight of his meal made Donnie feel things. He’s been experiencing that a lot lately. Any more of this, and his emotionally unavailable bad boy persona would be blown.

He fumbled with his chopsticks and reached for the chicken. The egg covering teared away, a single slice obtaining freedom. Donnie put it in his mouth, feeling the crusty coating crumbling away as he bit the juicy chicken. It was good. It was so good. By the time he took a bite from his rice, the tears leaking out of his eyes were too evident.

“Donnie? Are you OK, buddy?”

Raph, who was sitting across him, had a heartbroken expression on his face. The rest of the family looked up from their food to Donnie, only for their faces to morph into the same expression. A hiccup shook Donnie as he tried to dry his cheeks with his sleeves. It proved fruitless as the tears just kept coming.

He took another bite from his food as if there was no issue. No probbles. He sniffed in the disgusting liquid leaking out from his nose. God, he probably looked so pathetic now. But he just couldn’t stop crying. He didn’t know why— nothing had even happened! It was just dad came home and the food was so good, and he was… happy?

A wail came out of his mouth as he couldn’t keep eating anymore. He set down his chopsticks and buried his face into his arms. He heard the clatter of a chair against the tile surface and soon felt a hand on his back. The smell of oil paint and candy filled his nostrils, and Mikey hugged him so, so tightly.

“What’s wrong, Dee?” His baby brother sounded pained. Donnie shook his head into his arms, and two other hiccups shook his frame. Mikey hugged him tighter, but then, the sound of loafers echoed as he pulled away. Splinter’s gentle hand rubbed Donnie’s back in steady circles.

This made Donnie cry even harder.

Eugh. He was hating every second of it. Crying was gross— not only because it reminded him that he actually had emotions, and they would find a way out of his body even if he didn’t understand them, but also because it was just. Gross. So many liquids and a huge energy waste. 1/10 experience, do not recommend.

“My son,” Splinter whispered at his ear. He was now sitting where Leo used to sit, obviously had changed chairs. “Talk to us, Purple. We would like to help.”

“I don’t know,” was the sentence Donnie managed to mumble. He stripped his face away from the privacy of his sleeves and raised his head. “I don’t know,” he repeated. “I don’t know.”

“It’s alright,” said Splinter, solemnly. He took off Donnie’s glasses and set them aside.“We can figure it out together.”

“I’m happy,” Donnie said, through the flow of tears, “But I’m also sad— and, and it doesn’t make sense. Everything is too much, dad.”

The age lines on his dad’s face deepened. He opened his arms invitingly, and Donnie practically dove into them. Another wail made its way out as Donnie buried his nose into his dad’s chest. The back rubs didn’t cease. The tears were coming stronger than ever.

“Why is it so hard?” He was talking before he even processed what he was saying. “Everything changes, and everyone is okay with it. But I’m not.” A hiccup interrupted him. He took a deep, shuddering breath. “But I can’t, dad.”

And, really, he didn’t realize it before he said it. Every miniscule change had loaded onto his back until the inevitable crash. It’s always been this way for him. He didn’t forget that he couldn’t speak for an entire month when he had started middle school. And now, with the start of high school and the presence of his speech, he thought he was off the hook. Everything was fantastic. He could finally know how it felt to be normal— how easy it was for others to just live.

Except, he couldn’t. Because with each code he wrote, he felt another rock added onto the pile in his chest. With each word he uttered, his brain slowed down another mile. With every bite he took, the weight in his stomach got heavier.

Anything he did to have a semblance of normalcy backfired at him. It all reminded him of his old, unchanged life and it was all too much to bear.

He just wanted to get his life back. He just wanted to be normal.

Splinter nodded in understanding as he placed Donnie's head at the crook of his neck. “I see the problem now, Purple. You had many big changes. It must've been so hard on you— and all this time, you kept it to yourself, too.” He tightened his grip around his son's torso as he stroked his hair. “But it will be alright. I know it seems impossible now, but I promise you that. It will all be alright.”

Against his father's chest, Donnie’s erratic breathing calmed down, matching Splinter’s steady cycle. The gentle back rubs slowed down and eventually stopped along with Donnie's tears. Maybe what he needed was this in the first place: the reassurance of his dad. Hearing that, even though it didn't seem that way, everything would be alright. Without the data and the statistics backing up the claim, it should've been not as reassuring. Perhaps downright ridiculous. But here was Donnie, feeling like his five year old self again, scared of starting kindergarten. Climbing up at his dad's bed at night and listening to his soothing promises.

His dad sat with him until Donnie pulled away. He scrubbed off the salt on his son's face with the sleeves of his robe. Donnie put on his glasses, looking around the table. He gingerly came to the realization that none of them had touched their food in the meantime. Some of them had even joined him in his crying, evident by Raph’s and Mikey's red rimmed eyes.

He reluctantly picked up his chopsticks and his brothers followed his lead. After a collectively slow dinner, Leo pulled Donnie to the living room. He literally pushed him onto the couch and snuggled next to him.

“I think,” he said, confidently placing a hand on his chest, “We are due to a movie marathon, hermano.”

“Oh, sweet!” Mikey jumped in enthusiasm as he turned on the TV. “I'll prepare the snacks— don't you guys dare leave.”

Leo waved off the smidge of Dr. Delicate Touch at the end and gave a comforting grin. “I think I'll even sleep here, Miguel.”

Donnie felt a weight draping on his shoulders, and looked up to see Raph with his weighted blanket. He gave a grateful smile. Raph settled down on the other side of him and returned the smile, putting his arm around his back.

It was nobody's business that for the first time in forever, Leo seemed OK with watching Jupiter Jim’s Pluto Vacation IV. It was also nobody's business that Donnie fell asleep into the first half of the movie. It was, however, Donnie's business that he had such a caring family— and at the end of the day, he felt like he could face any change and leave unscathed as long as he had them by his side.