Chapter Text
Six months.
It had been six months since the Kraang invasion.
It had been six months since they had saved the world.
It had been six months of painful recovery.
It had been six months since April had fallen into a coma.
It had been six months since he had lost oldest brother and his twin, since he had lost his father .
It had been six months since he had almost lost his youngest brother.
Six. Painful. Months.
Donatello sat under his dining table, rocking back and forth as he hugged his knees, tapping the wooden floor beneath with his toes to help ground himself. The sound wasn’t particularly comforting, nor was the feeling of his battleshell hitting the wall every time he rocked backwards, but it was better than the buzzing of lab equipment, eerily similar to the one he had in the lair.
He remembers, at some point, this buzzing was comforting.
Now it just reminded him of what a failure he was.
The turtle on the top of his dining table chirped, piercing through the stiff air of the flat. The sound bounced off the walls and into his ears, making him feel loath for the thing. He knew the innocent creature was not at fault for this, but did he care?
The softshell hissed, physically stopping himself from clawing the floor.
At least Donnie had a safe place to live in Hidden city now. He was far too paranoid to even step out of the cloaked town, from what he had heard, he was lucky to not have been tracked down by humans and hunted as lab research material! Fear was the only reason he hadn’t robbed a few banks already. And he didn’t particularly trust cloaking brooches, totally not because they were mystical, totally… The fact that the cost of living in HC was rising ever since the invasion was the cherry on top of this god-awful cake. Perhaps that was expected. It had been easy to get into a tech firm, considering Donatello’s remarkable knowledge in the field of electronics and computer sciences. However, managing his electricity bills was still no easy task considering he had air conditioned the whole place as if it was a refrigerator, and rent wasn’t exactly getting cheaper.
Not to mention the perfluorocarbon-based plasma he had to replenish every week or so, and Mikey’s life support system also consumed a good chunk of Kilowatts, Donnie had to cut down on meals and lights around the house to keep being able to afford that!
Bio-chemical laboratories were no joke, one speck of bacteria was all it took to completely destroy any hope of Mikey living like a normal being ever again. Bacteria couldn’t thrive below freezing temperature, and Donnie would rather not heat his lab to over a hundred degrees celsius..! He could barely tolerate thirty. Nor could he tolerate freezing temperatures any better, but, at least he could layer up. It was the least he could do for Mikey.
Mikey who had lost most of his body opening a portal to save Leo, Leo who locked himself up in the prison dimension to keep the Kraang at bay. Donnie highly doubted the slider survived that. He still remembers the exact moment those monsters had taken over Raph, he remembers the exact moment the oldest succumbed to said injuries, the exact moment his singular good eye was drained of life, his face turning pale as the Kraang left his cold and lifeless body, they had no use for him anymore, after all. He clutched the sleeve of his sweater as his heart throbbed with ache. Six months, and it still hurt just as much. He sighed as the cold breeze from the air conditioner hit his face, drying his tears while leaving an uncomfortably chilly sting. He hissed, the feeling of dried tears was not enjoyable. Especially for a turtle with sensory issues and.. Terribly dry skin. He had to skip over his regular skin care routine, and now he constantly felt uncomfortably dry.
He was selfish, wasn’t he?
Donnie felt so selfish. Everyone else had been through so much worse, and here he was, moping over some dry skin. He scratched at his wrist, gritting his teeth together. His worn out nails felt horrid on the skin, the little chips in his nails cut through his skin. Dragging small beads of crimson out.
No point being sad about it now. He forced himself to stand up, gripping onto the table. He wiped his face with his sleeves, which usually was less than ideal, but he would rather kill himself than have to do more laundry! Probably literally. Even with all that layering, he still felt cold.
Donatello picked up the plastic terrarium he had left on the table, inside was the unmutated turtle, about a few years old. Not a tot, but not exactly fully an adult just yet.
He should check on Mikey.
The softshell gently opened the door to his lab, where Mikey sat on the counter specially reserved for him. Two tubes of different diameters were connected to his shell, which was pumping plasma throughout the circuit in his body..
Donnie felt his heart drop at the sight of his youngest brother. Half dead. Arms ripped off, disintegrating as the seconds passed by. Donnie’s breathing grew heavy. No, no, no, no, no, no, this can't be right no— He tasted bile in the back of his throat, the gruesome image making his heart race. Donnie felt grease in the atmosphere, landing on his skin. Half of Mikey’s shell was gone. He wanted nothing more than to rip his scales off, wanted nothing more than to take his baby brother’s place, nothing more than to—
“Hey, Doooonnie~!” Mikey smiled, tilting his head to the side to convey a wave. Ever since he had lost his arms, Michelangelo had to be creative. Last time he drummed his legs against the cabinet, which Donnie didn’t appreciate very much. The noise was rather overstimulating, besides, he didn’t want to knock anything over. Mikey didn't particularly like waving his stub of a shoulder. It felt weird! And it probably looked weird too. “Who’s that little guy?” he asked, looking at the turtle in the terrarium with fondness. Did Donnie finally decide to get a pet!? He had been begging for one for weeks!
Donnie snapped out of whatever vision, or flashback, he had seen, heaving a sigh of relief when he saw Mikey right where he left him. Not that Mikey could leave even if he wanted to. Donnie practically dropped the enclosure onto the table, startling the little reptile. then immediately wrapped his arms around the younger, holding him in a tight embrace. Mikey was more confused than anything, but nuzzled the back of Donnie’s head, unsure of how to respond to the sudden burst of affection. Mikey was in a rather pathetic state, really. Half of his face shone with silver-coloured alloy, one of his eyes was just a black orb with red in the middle. No, it did not work, it wasn’t some cool gizmo in a science fiction movie, its only purpose was to not have to see the insides of Mikey’s head. Not that Donnie already hadn’t— He’d just rather not unless it was necessary. There were two tubes connecting his shell to a large tank of fluid, the closest substitute Donatello could find for blood. Unfortunately, it wasn’t reusable. Which meant he couldn’t infuse it with nutrients once it was drained of all by Mikey’s, somehow, still functioning body.
The softshell pressed his face into the smaller one’s shoulders, holding back even more saline tears that threatened to spill out. Donnie didn’t cry easily, nor was he a hugger.
Oh, but how he’d kill for his dear little Angelo’s embrace right now. His heart ached as he remembered all the times Mikey had hugged him before the invasion with his actual arms , it ached with regret. Regret for not returning those hugs. Regret for straight up refusing to acknowledge them. He had only ever really let Mikey hug him, but he never.. Returned them, did he? He grit his teeth, angry at himself more than anything. Donnie then reluctantly pulled away, gently running his fingers over the metallic plate that replaced part of Mikey’s unmasked face, heart sinking as he felt the screws and bumps rather than rough scales. This was the closest he’d ever get to an actual hug from the turtle ever again. Donnie pulled away, aggressively rubbing away at his eyes with the sleeve of his sweater yet again. He winced when he felt them hurt as if he hadn’t expected it, it was surprising he hadn’t rubbed his eyeballs out of place yet.
“You shouldn’t do that, you know.” Mikey said, crossing one leg over the other. Donnie immediately recoiled from his position, coughing into his first before pacing about the lab, pretending to tidy the place up.
“...greetings, Angelo. I was thinking of installing some upgrades to your life support. Since–” And the nervous rambling had begun. Mikey had learnt how to tune these out, especially when Donnie seemed off. It was nothing out of the ordinary these days. He carefully studied his older brother’s face with his good eye, tear stains! As expected. But his eyes were also red, which means he probably had been crying for a much longer time than usual… And of course, Donnie’s signature eyebags had grown to the point they were peeping out of his mask. Sleepless nights weren’t uncommon for Donnie, but he seemed more tired than usual at the moment.
Times like these, Donnie recollected Leo.
Leo barely got three hours of sleep everyday, yet he managed to be so energetic. The guy used to be…
…Better than Donnie at everything.
Donnie shook his thoughts away, grabbing the small turtle from the temporary terrarium
“As I was saying—” he placed the thing on his work bench, slipping on the disposable latex gloves that he had disinfected, twice . Better safe than sorry. Better paranoid than sorry. Donnie pulled the drawer where he kept all his medical supplies, getting out an unopened syringe along with a precision knife, closing the drawer with his hips before opening a cabinet on the top. He cursed himself from placing it so high, but also cursed his genes for making him short. He very carefully pulled out a sealed beaker of a vibrant green chemical, a huge contrast to the dull purple of the lab. He flipped his goggles down so that they were covering his eyes, he adjusted the lens before carefully filling the injection with the euthanasia.
The critter had crawled across the counter, all the way to where Mikey was. It very slowly climbed atop Mikey’s thighs, earning a delighted coo from the mutated box turtle..
The softshell was done filling his syringe with the liquid, he flicked the plastic once to get rid of potential air bubbles, and then squeezed a little of the liquid out. He wouldn’t want the turtle to burst a vein, or something. Not that he cared whether it was hurt, he just didn’t want turtle blood all over his table. That was… Gross! His eyes widened when he didn’t see the turtle on the dissection mat, and then darted over to Mikey, who the little fellow was currently making a home out of. It happily nuzzled against Mikey’s plastron, Donnie felt a twinge of guilt flood his chest, but, this was a necessary evil! He tried to convince himself. This was for Mikey’s good, no? If he could just figure out how Rolling up his sleeves, he sighed, resting his elbow on the table as he looked at his younger brother, who was bonding with his specimen.
“I think I’ll name you….” Mikey thought for a moment, biting his lower lip. “Oliver! You know, ‘cause he’s green!” he said with felicity, eyes shining.
“It would not be wise to get attached, Michael.”
“Why? You
finally
got me a pet after all this time! Aren’t I allowed t—”
Donnie raised both of his eyebrows and gestured with his eyes at the precision knife, before looking back at Mikey. Only then was it clear to him that—
…Oliver wasn’t here to stay.
Mikey immediately felt dismayed, looking at his older brother, now, his only older brother indignantly, looking down at little Ollie again. Donnie looked back at Mikey, avoiding his eyes. And, it was then that he realised he had fucked up.
Donnie had found that turtle abandoned near hidden city’s wish fountain. He was sure it was abandoned because box turtles don’t just… appear in cities! Or wish fountains! And it seemed perfectly healthy, it definitely didn’t crawl all the way by itself. It would have died of starvation, or would’ve gotten run over before, he supposed. The distinct way it tucked its head into his shell upon first seeing Donnie, reminded him of how Mikey would never be able to slip back into his shell whenever he pleased. Which made him clench his fist, why could this insignificant being have something his little brother didn’t? But his anger soon died down when it popped out again, staring at him longingly. At first, he wanted to leave it there, but the way it looked at him reminded him so much of Mikey…
Which meant, he could dissect it to figure out his anatomy!
Donnie had been taking risks, rearranging Mikey’s insides to replace it with a device to pump his heart, which he had to pump manually during the entire operation.
He still remembers those cries of pain his littlest brother had let out due to the lack of proper anesthetics vividly, if he could, he would have gladly taken Mikey’s place, it was a miracle the fellow hadn’t died of pain, he had his insides cut open and laid on a table! Donnie would never admit he actually did keep Mikey’s organs under formaldehyde, preserving it “just in case”, a very optimistic just in case. He knew for a fact Mikey would be weirded out…
He looked down at ‘Oliver’, currently resting himself on Mikey’s lap. Mikey stared at it with newfound fondness, his eyes— err— eye softened greatly as he looked at the tender little thing, currently pawing at Michelangelo.
Donnie’s empathy was low, but…
…if this made Mikey happy, even in the slightest, that was enough.
He tossed the syringe into the bin, taking off his gloves before chucking them into the sterilizer, doing the same with the precision knife. Flipping up his glasses, he pinched the bridge of his nose.
Guess they had a pet now.