Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Donnie came to slowly. First was sound. Someone was playing Stray Kids on low nearby, but the beat was off with a horrible, piercing sound. Even when the song changed, the sound continued. Soft breathing to his left could be heard, along with occasional clicks of someone typing on their phone.

Next was feeling. He was on a bed, but not his. There was a scratchy blanket on top of him that Raph would find unbearable and something strapped to his hand that pinched. His back ached and his arms felt tingly. He couldn’t feel past his waist.

Finally, smell came. Disinfectant and air that was just a little too clean met his snout. The distinctive scent of his older brother’s sweat permeated the space, his thoughts immediately being swarmed by red. A feeling of safety washed over him, and with it, relief. He couldn’t quite remember what happened, but he knew that he had been separated from his brothers . . .

Groggily, Donnie forced his heavy eyelids open. He was glad it wasn’t very bright in the room, as it made it easier to adjust to the sudden stimuli. Blinking aggressively to clear the blurriness, he eventually realized he didn’t have his glasses on. He grunted.

At his side, a blob of red and green jumped at the noise he made, the music cutting off and a quick intake of breath sounding close to a strangled sob.

“. . . Donnie?”

Donnie grunted again, smacking his beak. “Raph.” Man, his mouth tasted like cotton and felt drier than the Sahara Desert. He tried to swallow, but there was nothing there.

“RIGHT!” Raph pressed a button nearby and then a piece of ice was shoved into Donnie’s mouth. “Here, they said you can have this.”

Donnie almost spat the ice back out in alarm, but the ice soon melted and left his mouth feeling much better. Raph gave him some more chips until a nurse bustled into the room with a little clipboard. Donnie looked up, squinting to try and make out anything about the person. It just looked like a brown and white blur to him.

“He woke up!” Raph exclaimed, flinging the ice chips in his excitement. Several plinked to the floor. “Oops.”

“I can see that,” the nurse said, amused. They sounded masculine, but higher pitched? Maybe younger? Donnie couldn’t tell, and he really wished he had his glasses. The nurse came to a stop at his bedside and clicked their pen. “How are you feeling?”

It took a moment for Donnie to connect the dots, that they were talking to him. “Ah! Um, tired?”

“Any pain?”

“Yeah,” he winced, shifting slightly. “My shell--back, lower. It really aches.” He swallowed, and Raph gave him another chip. The nurse was patient while he sucked on it.

“Well, that makes sense, since we had to extract a piece of shrapnel from the area you described.”

Donnie’s eyes bulged. “Yeah dude,” Raph flapped a hand in agitation, “you had like a huuuuge piece of metal in your shell! It looked like it was part of a sign.”

“We’re assuming you acquired it from when you were shoved out of the subway window, according to witnesses.”

Slowly, things clicked back into place. Right, the fight with the mechazoids. The killer robots. Bishop. Him and his brothers getting separated. Reprogramming 004 . . .

“But, but I was fine! I even reprogrammed a robot!”

“And that really helped!” Donnie could see Raph’s gap-toothed grin, flashing like a white smear. “Metalhead saved the day! Well, so did Pete, but Metalhead is really the one who saved our bacon. He was so cool! And smart! He was all bam and protect all mutants and came up with the emu thingy to turn off all the robots that were gonna kill everybody!”

The nurse cleared their throat and Raph quieted down, but Donnie knew his brother was going to reenact all the fight scenes for him later.

“Adrenaline most likely kept the injury from being noticeable in the moment, but once it wore off, you passed out, most likely from a combination of pain and blood loss.”

“Blood . . .?” Donnie gulped, feeling light-headed. He hated blood and squishy things like that. “Um, but I’m good now?”

The nurse scribbled some things down. “You’ve just woken up, so we’ll keep you overnight, but you should be well enough to leave in a wheelchair tomorrow.”

“What, why?”

“Uh, dude, you got a broken leg?”

Donnie’s brow line shot up. “What?”

He looked down, and sure enough, under the blanket there was a casted leg. He hadn’t felt a thing.

. . . He still couldn’t feel it.

“Oh . . . Right.”

The nurse scribbled something else and came closer, leaning over the youngest turtle with a hum. Taking their pen, the nurse poked Donnie’s knee. “Any feeling?”

“No.”

The nurse instructed Raph to help move Donnie to the side of the bed so his legs would hang off, then tried several times to get a reaction out of Donnie’s legs, even tapping it with the little hammer.

Nothing.

Donnie broke out in a cold sweat. He knew the implications of that, but--but--

“One moment, please,” the nurse said, leaving the room. Raph and Donnie didn’t speak, both too anxious to say a word. When the nurse came back, another person was with them, taller and mostly a white blob.

“Hello, I’m Dr. Fletcher. I’ve been treating you since you were brought here by that fun robot you built.”

“Reprogrammed,” Donnie automatically said.

“Right. Nurse Juli says you can’t feel your broken leg?”

Donnie shook his head.

“I’m here to do some more tests with you, is that alright?”

He nodded.

“Excellent. Please move your toes for me?”

Donnie did as asked. He willed his toes to move, not daring to look at them in case what he was terrified would be the result was real.

“Any time, Don,” Raph squeaked out.

“I am,” Donnie whispered.

“A-Any time, now.”

“Raph . . .”

“Stop joking, Donnie,” Raph growled.

“Thank you,” Dr. Fletcher interrupted. “Try moving your foot?”

Donnie tried. He remembered how to move the foot, he could describe the feeling of moving the foot. Nothing happened.

“Can you move your leg up from the knee? Meet my hand, here?”

The blob shifted and Donnie could vaguely make out a different color from the rest about level with his knee height. Donnie willed all the muscles in his leg to work. He demanded internally for his body to move. Please!

Nothing. Not even a twitch.

Raph made an angry, upset sound. “Stop messing around, geekhead! This--this is serious!”

“I’m not faking!” Donnie shouted, hating it when his brothers assumed he was making things up. “I’m not!”

“Then move!”

“I can’t!” Donnie sobbed out, surprising himself. He must have surprised Raph, as well, since his brother’s breath hitched. “I can’t move my legs. I can’t feel them. I can’t--” he cut off with a whine.

Raph turned on the doctor. “Fix it,” he demanded with a scary tone. Donnie shivered and reached a hand out for his brother, but Raph shrugged him off. “You’re a doctor, so fix my little brother!”

Dr. Fletcher said, “We can do more tests on him, but we just don’t understand your physiology as well as our own.”

“Then understand better!”

“Raph,” Donnie’s tone was sharp. Raph tensed, Donnie could feel it, even from where he sat. “Stop. They can’t help.”

“Yes they can--!”

“Even if they could, even if they found what’s wrong with my spine or legs or whatever, they can’t make it magically better. They can’t fix nerves! Not--not like this. We just don’t have that technology yet.”

Raph made more angry sounds, any words completely incoherent through gritted teeth. At some point, the doctor gave them the term that would haunt Donnie for the rest of his life, and left, leaving Donnie and his brother alone. Raph huffed some more, calling the doctor some rather mean names. “What does he know?”

“He’s a professional who went through intensive study to get where he is today,” Donnie said, feeling numb in more than just his legs. His head felt floaty.

“Then he’s lying! You can’t be--You aren’t--” His brother sputtered over the word, unable to finish the sentence. Because they both knew. Donnie knew, long before the doctor even came into the room. But . . . it was still horrifying to think that this would be the rest of his life. Donnie understood Raph’s hesitance to say the word. “You just can’t!”

“But I am.”

“No, we just gotta find a better doctor. That one is clearly a quack.”

“Raph . . .”

“No! Don’t you say it . . .”

“I’m paralyzed.”

----

The next few days were . . . fuzzy. Donnie vaguely remembered Raph leaving in a rage to go beat in some heads, and then . . . maybe he fell asleep? Things drifted by him. He was given a back brace for the pain and wheeled from the hospital. He made it home somehow. And then he was just . . . there.

Leo and Mikey showed up at some point. He was lifted out of the fog while they were there, his oldest brother looking so guilty that he had to make sure Leo knew it wasn’t his fault. And Mikey . . . well, Donnie was so glad that his older brother was so bright and positive, because it gave him hope that maybe things weren’t so bad . . . And then they would leave again and Donnie would spiral down, down, down.

Leo gave him a comic that he drew himself, Donnie in the front and center with cartoon monsters being beat up by the purple turtle. It was so detached from reality that it almost made Donnie smile. My Hero stood out in bold letters at the top. 

Some “hero”. Donnie placed the comic carefully next to his bed, and it was promptly forgotten about. I couldn’t even save myself.

Mikey brought Donnie fun foods to try and cool stories to listen to. Stories about his brother’s adventures. Without him. Because he wouldn’t be able to “hero” with them again. Ever.

Because I’m paralyzed.

Raph wouldn’t talk, when he would visit. He’d just turn on Stray Kids and sit with Donnie, scrolling through “X” and showing Donnie memes here and there. Those times were honestly the best, since Donnie would eventually feel more grounded by the end. He’d actually want to work on his little projects.

(He was secretly grateful that the Mutanimals didn’t try to interact with him. He couldn’t handle his second cousins’ attempts at cheering him up. He might actually cry.)

----

Weeks after his . . . sudden disability, Donnie finally left the bedroom and into the kitchen. He was in a specialized wheelchair and given gloves to make the friction easier to deal with. He was wearing his brace, his lower back aching due to the rain storms outside. An inch of water was collecting on the lair’s floor, and he worried that they might have to deal with flooding.

“Donnie!” Mikey’s cheery voice called from the fridge. Donnie looked up to find the brother closest in age to him . . . sitting on the fridge?

“What are you doing?”

“Genghis is trying to eat all the food,” Mikey whined. “So I’m guarding it.”

“Riiiight.”

Mikey smiled, his braces glinting in the light. “It’s good to see you, bro!” he said. “Come out for a snack?”

“Or something.” To be honest, Donnie wasn’t sure why he wanted to be out of the bedroom, he just needed it. Seeing Mikey was nice, too. But now he felt like he needed to be doing something. Like, moving.

Except that he couldn’t.

In frustration, Donnie sighed in a way that sounded more like a growl, and Mikey raised a brow. “Uh, sorry that beef jerky is a no?” he said.

“No, I just--” Donnie slapped the sides of the wheelchair. “I wanna move.”

“Ah,” Mikey shrugged. “You could probably race around the lair?”

“I wanna move my legs, Mikey,” he clarified.

“Ah . . .”

They petered off into silence, and Donnie’s frustration heightened.

At the same time, Raph came stomping over from the other part of the room. The very loud, chaotic room that Donnie was honestly doing a very good job of ignoring until this point. Raph looked ready to punch something, but he surprised Donnie when he took hold of his wheelchair and pulled him with him towards the deeper part of the sewers.

“You’re coming with me and we’re talking about Felix,” Raph grit out. Donnie, flabbergasted at the sudden turn of events, shot a look back at Mikey. The orange brother shrugged and waved to Donnie as they left.

“You do know that it’s incredibly rude to move a person in a wheelchair without their permission, right?”

“Yeah yeah,” Raph rolled his eyes. “Woulda done the same if you weren’t in it. C’mon, nerd.”

Donnie sighed, but allowed the manhandling. It was almost normal.

Except for the wheels that Donnie was trapped in, that is.

Raph dragged him far enough away that the noise from the lair couldn’t reach them, then sat down heavily. With a huge sigh, he bonked his head on the sewer wall.

Donnie rubbed his hands together. They were silent. Donnie guessed this was the real reason Raph had dragged him out here, because Donnie would be quiet while Raph still had someone close by. But Donnie didn’t have his laptop, and, even worse, didn’t have his phone. So the silence was actually kind of bad because the bad thoughts he was having earlier were starting to come back and he couldn’t even try to stop them because he couldn’t move and it was driving him insane--

Stray Kids’ Scars started to play from Raph’s phone. The familiar tune put an abrupt stop to Donnie’s whirling thoughts, and he looked down at his brother. Raph still had his eyes closed, but hummed along to the song.

“Tell me again what happened to Han in this one?” Raph asked softly. And boy, that was never a word Donnie thought he’d associate with his hot-headed brother.

“Um,” Donnie pressed his glasses further up his snout. “He wears an eyepatch, right?” At Raph’s hum of approval, Donnie said, “He got a really bad case of pink eye, so in order to cover it up and still make it look like it fit the video, they put an eyepatch on him.”

“It’s so ridiculous,” Raph huffed. He opened his eyes. “The whole theme is about nasty wounds, right? Keeping it uncovered would make the most sense and make him look gnarly.”

Donnie scrunched his beak. “I’m pretty sure the beauty standards would still apply.”

Raph snorted. “Beauty schmeauty. No one fits those anyways.”

“You’re not wrong . . .” Donnie tilted his head. “I thought we were talking about Felix?”

“We are,” Raph said. “Han is in the same band, it counts.”

“Han is my favorite, though.”

Raph fell silent. Donnie tried not to fidget. “Are you . . . trying to make me feel better?”

“No,” immediate denial, tinged with nerves. Donnie raised a brow. “. . . I was making myself feel better.”

The song switched to a BTS song that Donnie recognized as one he frequently listened to. “Uh-huh. So talking about Han and turning on a playlist of my favorites is helping you?”

“. . . Yes?”

“Liar.”

Raph threw his hands up, cheeks colored. Donnie snorted. “Watch me never do this again.”

“Of course.”

“Because I won’t.”

“Right.”

“And I’m listening to these songs because I want to.”

“Mhm.”

“And Han looked funny in that video, so that’s why I mentioned him.”

“Felix looked flawless, then?”

“Obviously.”

They smiled, trying their best not to laugh, and let the music wash over them. It was . . . nice. He would thank Raph, if he didn’t know it would make his brother clam up for real. His red brother was all about actions rather than talk anyways. So, Donnie let his hand rest on Raph’s knee, and they listened to Koren pop bands together, in the middle of the sewers.

“You know,” Raph whispered, like he was afraid to break the peace. “You’re still a hero.”

Donnie’s heart sank. “No . . . I’m not.”

“You’ll be like Q! Or Ned Leeds! The guy in the chair that makes all the cool gadgets and keeps an eye in the sky.”

He felt a sting in his chest, but it wasn’t nearly as bad as the one felt with Leo’s comic. It . . . was kinda nice to think he’d still be on the team. “That’s still not a hero. That’s a sidekick.”

“Pssh, they’re the same,” Raph waved a hand. “Don’t listen to what Leo tells you otherwise. Anyone fighting, in whatever way they can, is a hero to me.”

That was . . . incredibly sweet to say. And it warmed something inside of Donnie that he thought was unthawable. “You think so?”

“I know so, bro!” Raph lightly punched Donnie’s knee. “And anyone who says you ain’t a hero can eat my fists.”

Donnie let out a laugh at that. His brother was always so . . . “Hey.”

Raph tilted his head.

“I thought about you, ya know. When I was being shoved out that window.”

A flash of worry, maybe even fear, crossed Raph’s face, but he smoothed it out. “Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah. I remembered what you said, about going ‘beast mode’. I was totally able to defeat it using just my hands and a subway bar! Well, and a lot of hacking.”

“Dude! Sick!”

“Heh, yeah. So, thanks Raph.”

Raph stuck out his lip. “Ugh, I didn’t even do anything.”

“Still!”

“Fiiine. I’m glad my teachings stuck in that nerd brain of yours.”

Donnie laughed.

Maybe things weren’t so bad, after all. Donnie still had a lot to learn, and a lot to overcome with this new challenge. But he had a bunch of really cool older brothers there to help him. He could do anything with his brothers at his side.

Chapter Text

When Don went down, a million and one scenarios flew through Casey’s mind. Was Donnie going back under? Did the beavers get to him? Did he hit his head, was there blood, did Casey need to call for help--?

And then Donnie started shaking.

Not like normal shaking, like he was cold, but like his whole body had been hit by lightning. Don would know a word for that, but he was currently shaking on the ground. 

Casey had no idea what to do. April was still with the others, making sure they didn’t die either, and Donnie and he were supposed to be taking the old coot back to his store. Well, they managed to get to the store, but here Donnie was, looking like he was dying while the old guy booked it away from them. 

“Okay, it’s fine! You got this, Casey Jones.”

He so did not “got this”.

Assess the situation. That was step one, yeah? Donnie was always telling him to focus on the problem, and he needed to do that so Don could continue to do that and oh holy cheese balls Casey needed to focus and chill--

“Focus!” He slapped his cheeks and knelt beside his (begrudging) friend. The spasms weren’t stopping, and Don’s eyes were rolling around wildly. Meaning they were open. Which meant it wasn’t the beavers . . . probably. Okay, that’s one thing down.

“It’s almost like . . .”

It reminded Casey of that doctor show his little sister liked to watch a lot. It had something similar with one of the patients. They called it a sessor or something.

“Right! So, what did they do when that happened?”

He vaguely remembered something about holding down the patient and getting their mouth open so they didn’t swallow something--the tongue, right? He could do that much. Donnie was a twig! He just . . . didn’t want to touch Donnie and make it worse.

But surely that doctor show wouldn’t get that wrong! So it was gonna help, right?

Gulping, Casey lightly touched Donnie’s jittering hands, finding that his own were shaking pretty hard.

What if . . . what if he made things worse while trying to help? And then Donnie got hurt and everyone would be mad at Casey and--

Well.

. . . But doing nothing was also hurting Donnie.

“Screw it,” he mumbled, and pressed onto Don, keeping his thrashing limbs in place. He put their foreheads together to keep his head in place and whispered, “You better not swallow your tongue, dude, or else I’ll kill you.”

Donnie continued to jerk around for what felt like forever, and Casey held on like his life depended on it. Because, who knew, maybe Don’s did. It was getting harder to hold the mutant turtle down the longer it went on, and Casey almost slipped at one point, Don’s hand whipping out and clocking Casey in the jaw. He’d had worse from Raph, but the hit did sting. Probably cut his cheek.

Slowly, Donnie’s frantic movements stopped. The turtle’s eyes were still swirling around, confusion painting his face. Casey panted from the exertion as he slid off of Donnie, muscles aching and sweat uncomfortably clinging to his body. “Donnie? You back with me?”

Donnie made a confused noise. The relief Casey felt made him shudder and let out a giddy laugh. “Dude, you just took off like five years of my life.”

“No funny business in front of my store!” the old coot shouted from his window. Casey looked up to see the man shaking a fist at him, the light from the store illuminating the ground around them. “You kids, do it somewhere else!”

“Funny--” Casey’s cheeks grew warm. “Did you just watch the whole time and not help?? What the crap, man!”

Donnie made another sound, this one much more concerning, and Casey looked back just in time to see . . . something spurt out of Don’s mouth and across his chest. Something liquid.

“Oh crap, did you just throw up??”

And then Don’s eyes rolled back and he started choking.

Casey scrambled on what to do. Donnie was literally choking on his own vomit. Would CPR even work on a turtle??

One way to find out.

He started trying to do chest compressions. He’d done so before on someone in his hockey team, knew what to do because of his dad’s heart condition, but it was MUCH harder on a turtle. The chest plates were too hard, and the longer he tried to press down the longer Donnie looked more and more like his mask. At some point, the choking had stopped, and Don wasn’t struggling anymore.

“CRAP!” Casey did the only thing left he could think of: tilting Don onto his side and smacking his back.

Donnie’s shell was harder than his chest, and it felt like Casey was smacking a tree. His heart was jackhammering into his ribs, leaving an imprint he was sure. Donnie could not die like this, not because Casey was stupid.

“Idiot, stupid, moron, come on, you can’t just die on me because you ate your own tongue--” He had no idea what he was saying at this point, but his sight was blurry and his nerves were frayed and he just wanted it all to stop. Donnie didn’t respond, and it was too bleary for Casey to tell if he was breathing again or not. He kept smacking.

After an eternity, Donnie made a strangled sound, and more bile sputtered past his blue lips. Casey kept pounding his back, muttering something probably unflattering, glad that at least something was working. Don kept hacking out his lungs, until finally he could breathe without a wet sound.

Casey stilled his hands, letting them rest on Donnie’s back. “Donnie . . .?”

Donnie let his breath turn into a questioning whine on the way out. Casey’s shoulders slumped in relief. “Holy mac and cheese I could kiss you right now. Don’t scare me like that, dude!”

Donnie didn’t respond to that, but he did wave his hand weakly in Casey’s direction. Casey grabbed the wandering limb and gave it a pat. Donnie squeezed his fingers, then went limp.

For a horrifying moment, Casey believed his friend just died. His heart dropped to his toes and his stomach squeezed painfully like he’d be sick too. But when he saw the rise and fall of Don’s chest, Casey relaxed again.

“Just sleeping . . .” Casey let out a hysterical laugh. “I--I bet, you probably feel like crap.”

He let them rest for a while, the shock coating his arms in a numb sensation and leaving his body shaking like a leaf. Then he remembered what started all of this and shook Donnie awake again. “You can’t sleep, bro, we got killer beavers on the loose.”

Donnie made a noise of protest, confusion twisting his features. Casey wanted to shake him harder until he understood, but he was also terrified that the whole experience would start again if he did. He waited until Donnie became more aware, then slowly brought him to sitting. Donnie’s eyes had a hard time locking onto Casey, but once he did he gave a small smile. Which was . . . not what Casey was expecting. It made his heart pound again, and he wondered if maybe the anxiety had yet to wear off from . . . all of that.

“Hey,” Casey cleared his throat. “We’re going back to the others, k?”

Donnie hummed, throat sounding completely wrecked, and Casey got to the balls of his feet in preparation of hoisting the turtle up. “Right, so, don’t freak out on me again, please. On three. One, two . . .”

Casey shot upwards, leaving him dizzier than he thought he’d be. Shaking his head furiously to clear the spots, he noticed Donnie was leaning heavily into him, eyes once again rolling. Casey gripped his forearm tighter and brought it around his shoulders so the turtle could lean more fully against him. He then looped his remaining arm around Don’s waist, barely managing to fit across the shell. Donnie grunted.

“Yeah, yeah. We’re going home.”

Casey shuffled them to the car and deposited Donnie in the back so he was laid out across the seats. And then he paused.

What if while he was driving back, Don had another fit? What if he choked again and died for real? What if he got back and Don didn’t . . .?

A harsh swallow. Casey opened the driver’s side door and got in, hands shaking horribly. “I guess we wing it, then.”

----

Luckily for Casey’s mental health, they made it back without incident. In fact, Don became more and more aware while on the drive, to the point that he was back to speaking by the time they reached the farm. He didn’t mention the sessor thing. Casey was fine to let it go while they dealt with the dream beavers.

Three days after the Incident, though, Donnie cornered Casey into an empty room and locked the door. Nervously, Casey started speaking before Don could even get a word out, “Look, whatever Mikey told you happened, it was a lie. In fact, Raph can back me up. So don’t murder me please I didn’t do it--”

“What?” Donnie shook his head. “No, I’m not here about . . . whatever you think I am.” he huffed. “I wanted to say thanks.”

“Huh?” Casey dumbly pointed at himself.

“Yes, you,” Donnie rolled his eyes. “Though you’re incredibly dumb, and I got hurt while it happened and will be sore for weeks, you helped me and didn’t tell the others about it. So, thanks.”

“Uh,” Casey furrowed his brows. “You’re welcome?”

Don nodded, then turned around and reached for the door. He was gonna leave just like that?

“Wait wait wait!” Casey flailed his arms. “You’re not gonna explain??”

“Explain what?” Donnie turned back around, head cocked to the side.

“What do you even mean?” Casey sighed. “When did you get hurt? And what did I not tell your brothers?”

“About the seizure?”

“Oh,” Casey swallowed. “Yeah, that.” He realized, yeah, he didn’t tell the others, mainly because he thought Donnie would. “Wait, you haven’t told them yet??”

“No?” Donnie’s shoulders shored up. “Of course I haven’t! I don’t want them to know!”

“What?? Why not?”

“Because they don’t need to worry!”

“Uh, I’m pretty sure a sessor is something to worry about!”

“It’s called a seizure and no, if they worry about it they’re going to treat me with kid-gloves.”

“Well, maybe they need to!”

Donnie bristled. “What does that mean?”

Casey flapped his arms. “Man, I don’t know, maybe because you’re not taking your health seriously?”

“I’m taking my health plenty seriously, thanks, I’m tracking when they happen and--”

“It happened again??”

“I have it under control--”

“YOU ALMOST DIED!”

The silence was ringing. Casey breathed heavily, eyes narrowed on his friend and shoulders shaking with adrenaline. He clenched and flexed his hands, wanting to bash something in.

“Casey . . .”

“Do you have any idea how scary that was?” Casey asked. When Donnie didn’t say anything, just looking down ashamed, Casey went on, “I thought I killed you.”

“It wasn’t your fault.”

“No, but it was my responsibility! No one else was there, not Leo with his healing hands, not Raph with his first aid knowledge, not even Mikey or April! It was me. And I was so, so scared that I was gonna get you killed and then I’d have to--t-to tell the others that you just suddenly died and what--what . . .” frustrated, Casey pulled on his hair. He let out a growl. 

“Case . . .”

“No, Donnie,” Casey pointed accusingly at the turtle, eyes filmy and burning. “Shut up. You don’t know. You--” He bit his lip, hands flinging out but unable to get his point across. “We’re letting them know, and you’re going to tell us when you have another. I don’t . . . I don’t wanna feel like that again.”

Donnie stood there, looking stunned, hands raised as though to try and calm a wild animal. Casey almost felt like one, with the way he began pacing the small room while growling. Idiot turtles with hero complexes--

“Okay.”

Casey froze, looking up through blurred vision at the tall mutant. Donnie seemed resigned, but he gave Casey a weak grin. “Okay. We’ll . . . we’ll tell the others. It won’t happen like that again.” He huffed, rolling his shoulders. “My body can’t take that abuse from you again anyways.”

Casey sniffled, shoulders hiking up. “Abuse??”

“Ah, yeah, about that . . .”

----

So, holding someone down was a bad idea when they were having a seizure, and using knowledge from television was equally stupid. Casey got a run-down on how to properly help someone with a seizure, along with everyone else. Beginning with a lesson must have helped Donnie’s nerves about telling everyone, but Casey made sure to be a steady support for him while he broke the news.

It turned out, Donnie had been hurt while in the dream beaver realm, and as a result had given him brain damage that resulted in the attacks. His brothers took the news in stride, in that they predictably freaked out. Casey was there to keep Donnie from bolting, hand wrapped around the taller’s wrist as the other turtles had a screaming match. Donnie was shaking under his touch and he twisted in Casey’s hold until they were holding hands. Casey knew there was a joke in there, but he let it slide for now. Donnie was two seconds away from panicking, and bringing up their rocky relationship wasn’t going to help.

“Guys!” April’s voice carried over the commotion easily, maybe because she magnified it with her powers or something. The group looked up in time to catch her scowl, and Donnie leaned away from it. “Thank you. Now, when did you last have an attack?”

“Um, yesterday after dinner?” Donnie squeaked out.

“When you were alone in the lab?”

Donnie nodded. Casey gave his hand a squeeze.

April gave a sharp nod. “When do you think you’ll have another?”

“Uh, most likely today before bed, but it could be any time. It’s more unpredictable than I thought.”

April hummed in thought. “I could try helping you track them, and we could set up a system to warn everyone when it’ll happen.”

“I wanna help,” Casey chimed in.

“No offence, but I’m not sure you could . . .”

“No, he can help,” Donnie pushed in. “I’d appreciate his input, at the very least.”

With a shrug, April conceded, and they promised to meet up later in the barn/lab to talk more strategy. The brothers still looked upset, and rightfully so, but with a plan in place Leo allowed for the group to disperse. Before leaving, Leo took hold of Donnie’s shoulder and gave him a squeeze. “Don’t hesitate to get me if something goes wrong, okay? The healing hands do more than just heal poison.”

Donnie gave a stiff nod, and Casey threw a thumbs up. Leo smiled shakily, then let them go with a pat to each shoulder.

They’d figure it out. Casey was determined to never let something so horrible ever happen again.

Chapter Text

Casey Marie had been planning this party for weeks. Everything was going to be perfect, she swore! The resistance needed a boost right now, and since it was Christmas, might as well bring peace to these weary souls, right? 

She was standing at the head of the room, her best outfit lined with tinsel and a few blinking lights. The party-goers’ joy was making her feel incredibly good about herself, especially when a karaoke machine was brought out from seemingly nowhere and a group of resistance members began singing horrible renditions of Christmas carols. One even started singing screamo to “Deck the Halls”. It was quite amusing to watch.

Well, everything was going swimmingly, all according to plan. The punch may have been a bit spiked, though, because it wasn’t until April came over with crying turtle children that she remembered that maybe she needed to watch over the tots and less the party.

“What happened?” Casey asked, nervous. She counted one, two, three . . . “Where’s Yi?”

“I don’t know,” her mother said, gripping Uno and Odyn’s hands tightly. Moja clung to April’s dress, thumb in mouth, a habit Casey was still trying to train out of her. “I was only gone for a minute.”

Casey swore, looking around frantically. “She couldn’t have gone far.”

“Unless . . .”

Casey’s eyes snapped back to her mother. “Yes?”

“Uno says someone came by and Yi went with them.”

Casey looked at the oldest of the children, and the seven year old nodded uneasily. “I saw it. She had red hair.”

“So Yi thought it was mo--April?”

“It wasn’t!” Moja shouted. “Grandma is prettier!”

April coughed to hide a soft blush. “Thank you, Moja. Is there anything else you remember?”

They shuffled. “Uh,” Odyn softly spoke up, “She had a fancy scarf.”

“Fluffy,” Uno nodded.

“A fluffy scarf,” Casey hummed. “We can go with that. Mom, can you keep an eye on the kids while I look for Yi?”

April nodded and began herding the turtles to a table with child-appropriate snacks. Casey took a deep breath, letting the party-goers’ laughter ping around her for a moment before she took off for Yi.

The turtles knew not to follow strangers. Casey and April were the only humans they could trust, and mutants were out of the question. Casey had told them, again and again, the dangers of wandering off from the group. Fists clenched, Casey eyed the hallways narrowly. 

The only thing she could think of that could make Yi, of all the turtles, walk away would be if someone had something she wanted. Or something that seemed threatening? Anxious energy ran through Casey at the thought. Yi knew better, so this whole thing was just . . .

She spotted a woman with red hair and a fluffy scarf turning at the end of a long hallway and towards the entrance of the building. Casey grit her teeth and ran after her.

“Hey!” She called out. “Hey!! Get back here--”

Just as the woman opened the door, Casey slammed into her and growled in her face. “Where’s the turtle?”

The woman, someone Casey had never seen before, paled significantly at the aggressiveness. She did look similar to her mother, but she was younger and too put-together to be anyone in Casey’s family. She looked rich, too, especially with the faux-fur scarf wrapped around her slim throat. Her dress was white and almost skimpy, barely covering her body. Her heels clattered as she backed into the wall. 

“What--Who are you??”

“Who are you?” Casey sneered. “I’ve never met you before.”

“I came to the party, but now I have to go home to my daughter--”

“A likely story. Where’s my turtle?”

“I don’t even know what that means!” she cried, mascara smearing. “I don’t own any turtles!”

Casey held onto her for a moment longer, then sighed and let her go. She seemed to really not have any idea what Casey was talking about. If she found out later that this woman was lying to her . . .

“Fine. Go.” Casey watched as the sniveling woman ran from the building in terror. Just where on earth could Yi be?

Grinding her teeth, Casey set back out to look for the wayward turtle, tension leaking from her shoulders and making her steps quicker. Was there another woman with red hair and a fluffy scarf at the party?

Casey gave another scan of the main party room, noticing that her mother was shooting her nervous looks every few moments that she wasn’t out looking for the child. Casey didn’t see any more red haired women.

The worry wiggling in her chest was overshadowed by a simmering rage. Just who dared to steal her child? Who would DARE?

Stomping from the room yet again, Casey blindly wandered the building, planning on how to track down that woman again and shake the information out of her, because that was the only lead she had. “Woman with red hair and fluffy scarf” was pretty specific. It couldn’t have been anyone else.

She found herself far, far away from the party, one floor up and barely able to hear the loud music. The floor was dark, the only light coming from the windows lining the walls. Casey took a moment to breathe and think. She needed to sit down and figure things out, starting with where to go if that woman was indeed a dead end.

Just as she was about to turn back around, she heard it. A soft sound; a giggle. It was quiet, like the owner was muffling it to keep silent. It immediately made her ears perk.

Heart pounding, Casey followed the sound further into the darkness until she came upon a broom closet. Slowly, she pushed the door open, hearing a gasp on the other side. There, sitting next to an overturned bucket, was Yi, looking like a deer in the headlights. She was alone, not even a mouse keeping her company. The worry and fear Casey had been feeling this whole time bubbled into anger, and she said through gritted teeth, “What the hell are you doing?”

Yi coward back, eyes flicking everywhere but Casey, but lingering on the bucket. Or, well, just above the bucket. “I . . . I was with my friend.”

“Friend?” Casey gave a sweeping motion around the closet. “What friend? You don’t have friends.”

Yi’s shoulders scrunched near her ears. “The turtle . . .”

“Turtle?” Casey sighed and crouched next to the child. “Yi, you can’t just run off because of an imaginary friend. I thought you had been kidnapped.”

“But he’s real,” Yi whispered. “Uncle Mikey says he’s my uncle.”

Casey froze, breath being stolen from her lungs. “You shouldn’t know that name.”

“Um, I can proof it!” Yi said, sitting up straighter. “Uncle Mikey says you get the dragon kata wrong a lot and you’re teaching it wrong to us. So you gotta twist your foot--”

“Foot 90 degrees,” Casey finished for her. “But how . . .”

“Uncle Mikey doesn’t wanna leave you and grandma alone,” Yi said. “He was worried.”

Something squeezed Casey’s throat closed with a massive fist, leaving her swallowing tightly. “Right. That’s . . .”

Yi twisted her fingers nervously. “So . . . I’m not in trouble?”

Casey coughed into her fist. “Oh, you’re still in trouble for scaring the crap outta me, but I’m just glad you weren’t kidnapped.”

Yi paused, looking at the bucket. Was Uncle Mikey there? Casey stared at the spot until her eyes burned.

“Uncle Mikey says you need ta treat us like kids. Cuz we are.”

Casey blinked back into focus and down at Yi. “What . . . I do!”

“Trainin’ us to be ninja doesn’t count. You gotta give us toys.”

“Wh--”

“Weapons also don’t count.”

“You have toys!”

Yi giggled.

Casey led her back to the others while bickering with the ghost of her uncle, Yi playing translator the whole time. Once Yi was in sight of the others, the children swarmed the yellow-spotted turtle with hundreds of questions pouring from them, overlapping and hard to understand. Casey grinned at her mother when April came close.

“Everything okay?” April asked.

“Yeah,” Casey beamed. “Best Christmas ever.”

Chapter Text

Raph noticed it first. While Donnie was doing his absolute darndest to act normal and not like he had taken a weapon to the leg, he was still limping. And Dad was catching on.

Raph knew Dad would freak if he found out what happened, so he helped Donnie cover it up best he could. “Oh, well, Donnie stubbed his toes really really hard on a--a massive couch!” or “Yeah, Donnie and I were pretending to be zombies to see who did it better.”

Except, Donnie wasn’t improving. If anything, his limping seemed to be getting worse, and it made something upsetting settle in Raph’s chest.

Because, well, it was his fault, you know?

He growled and paced the room, resisting the urge to toss his sai around. He started this whole thing because of that stupid sai, so pulling it out right now was a bad idea. Instead, he clenched his fists and wished he could beat something up.

Maybe Leo would be up to get punched.

“Raph, what is your deal?” Donnie’s voice called from the other side of the room. “You’ve been acting weird. Well, weirder than usual.”

Raph didn’t answer, instead his eyes were glued to the shorts his little brother was wearing, where a thin line of white could barely be seen peeking from the bottom. Where his littlest brother had a bandage hidden. Because Raph had injured him.

His heart squeezed, like someone had grabbed it and crushed it. Honestly, maybe that would have felt better.

“Raph?”

Raph shook his head, focusing back on what was being said. “What? Oh, nah, I’m good. By the way, if you wanna hide that from Splinter you gotta wear longer pants.” He pointed at the line of white that was just brushing past the shorts.

Donnie looked down and groaned. “Oh man, I thought they’d be long enough. All my long stuff’s in the wash!”

“Here,” Raph shuffled his brother to his room, pointing at the bed. “Sit. I’ll get ya something.”

Donnie obediently sat on Raph’s bed and patiently waited for the older turtle to grab a huge pair of cargo pants. The pockets still had some snacks in them, which Raph mentioned in case his nerdy brother tried to put his nerdy stuff inside. Donnie thanked him and Raph left the room to allow him privacy to change. Once Donnie was done, the tight and uncomfortable feeling in Raph’s body loosened, though only barely. “Lookin’ good.”

“Your room stinks, you should really clean.”

Raph grit his teeth. “And you should run before I throttle you.”

Donnie yelped and took off down the hall, but Raph didn’t give chase. Donnie still limped horribly. At least now he wasn’t going to get noticed by Dad. Or, well, less likely to get noticed.

Raph sighed. This . . . wasn’t working. They needed to come up with another plan, before the rat sniffed them out. It’s just that Raph was running out of ideas, and it seemed like Mikey and Leo already forgot about what happened. Or well, Mikey did. Leo was too caught up in his new girlfriend to worry about Donnie. And it left a bad taste in Raph’s mouth.

Why was he the only one worried that Donnie wasn’t getting better? How did Raph keep things under wraps without cringing away every time Donnie winced in pain? What was Raph gonna do if Donnie . . . if he got sick, or his leg had to be cut off, or something worse?

Raph spent the next however long pondering those questions, aggressively cleaning his room and making the place spotless. He didn’t usually like cleaning, but Donnie had mentioned it smelled bad and honestly? Raph was more inclined to do his whims at the moment because it made him feel . . . It just helped him feel better, somehow.

There was a crash and a loud yelp somewhere in the kitchen and it sent Raph’s nerves on fire. That was Donnie. Before he even realized what was happening, he was running.

Skidding into the open space of the living room and kitchen, Raph watched as Donnie was brought to the couch by a very worried Splinter as Mikey was helping to clean some broken glass. Donnie’s feet were bare. Splinter fussed over Donnie’s feet as Raph careened into the side of the couch.

“What happened?” Raph barked.

“I just dropped a cup,” Donnie muttered, cheeks glowing red. “It’s fine. I didn’t even get hurt.”

“Still, it is best to check,” Splinter said, tutting. He extended Donnie’s hurt leg to get a better look and Donnie flinched.

Everyone froze. Splinter slowly lowered the leg, eyes narrowed. Raph felt like the air had been taken, he was unable to breathe. “Donatello,” Splinter started in that tone of voice that said “I know you’ve been hiding something”, and it made Raph’s skin break out in goosebumps. “Is something the matter, my son?”

“Nah, no, everything’s fine!” Donnie squeaked. 

“Promise, Dad,” Mikey piped up. “I think we would have noticed if Donnie got hurt or something.”

Yeah, that wasn’t suspicious at all. Raph swallowed around a lump in his throat, unable to say a word.

“Uh-hum,” Splinter’s eyes somehow got narrower. “And why don’t I believe you?”

“It’s really nothing--”

“Raphael,” Splinter suddenly cut to Raph, eyes suspicious and . . . they looked cold. Distrusting. There was black goop in Raph’s chest, leaving behind a trail of numbness as it slithered to his toes.

“It was my fault,” Raph blurted. Donnie frantically waved his hands, panic in his eyes, while Mikey facepalmed. “I--I didn’t mean to! But it bounced off the pipes and stabbed Donnie and now he’s hurt and I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry--”

Splinter held up a hand to stop the word vomit and used the other to take Raph’s left hand. He hadn’t realized he was scratching his arm. “My son, you must slow down. Explain from the beginning, please.”

Except Raph couldn’t. As soon as he spat out the words he’d been holding in for a week, the black goop started going up his throat, choking him and leaving him unable to talk. Distressed, he whimpered and banged his fist against the couch cushions. He would have moved it to his head if he wasn’t being watched by his worried family.

“What Raph means,” Mikey piped in, saving him from having to repeat the whole thing, “is that Donnie had a small accident with Raph’s sai.”

“Which wasn’t Raph’s fault, actually,” Donnie spoke up next, eyes narrowed on his older brother. It looked like a glare to Raph. He whined and didn’t care if they were watching, taking his fist to his head and pounding. He wanted the goop out, please please, he hated it and he wanted it gone but he was the reason and they were so upset and Donnie was so hurt and it was Raph’s fault--

Splinter took his other hand, so now he was trapped and unable to get rid of the goop. Raph yelled in frustration, pulling at Splinter’s grasp and violently shaking. “My son, you must calm down--”

“Raph! It’s all good bro--”

“Hey, it’s okay, Raph--”

Their voices overlapped and it was too much, too much, and Raph just needed to get away and not feel like this. His fault, his fault, his fault, his fault his fault his fault hisfaulthisfaulthisfaulthisfault--

Raph finally got his hands free and he took the opportunity to run. He had no idea where, he just needed out. His feet carried him. His fists clenched his head together, keeping it in place, keeping him here. Wherever here was.

Several moments passed where Raph just ran. At some point, he came to a stop and let the panic roll over him in waves. He was dangerous, a danger to his family, someone not to be trusted, they didn’t trust him, didn’t want him, his fault--

A hand brushed his shoulder. He flung a fist out wildly. It connected with a palm, holding him in place. Blue eyes swam in his tunnel vision, concern painted in their depths.

“Raph? Can you hear me?” Leo’s voice. Raph panted, and slowly the scene came into focus.

He was outside, somewhere on the surface. Some random street, in an unknown alley, with cars streaking past, and his older brother in front of him. Leo held his fist in place, his other arm loaded with groceries. They weren’t anywhere near where they usually “borrowed” food and supplies. “Raph?”

“Leo,” Raph croaked.

“Hey,” Leo smiled nervously. “You were running like crazy past the store and hitting yourself. I followed you, worried that something bad happened. Everything okay?”

In that moment, Raph just wanted to be held by his strong older brother. He wanted Leo to make it all better, for the goop to go away with the help of his brave brother who knew just what to do when stuff like this happened. He wanted it all to go away, but--

His fault.

With a gulp, Raph shakily said, “Y-Yeah. I’m okay.” He removed his hand from Leo’s palm, and came to the realization that he had almost done it again. He nearly hurt another brother. What kind of monster was he?

Leo hummed, not seeming convinced. “Well, wanna help me with this?” He held up his spoils, and Raph nodded. Pleased, Leo handed off some groceries to Raph and together they exited the alley to walk the streets. “We’re somewhere downtown,” Leo explained when Raph just looked around helplessly. “Don’t worry, I made sure to keep track of where we were headed.”

We. Raph liked it when Leo made it sound like they were in this together and Raph hadn’t just run blindly in a panic. Even though that’s exactly what he did. It was like Leo and he were on an adventure instead.

They walked in silence for a few blocks, and slowly Raph started to recognize his surroundings again. The grocery store they frequented was just around the bend, and then they’d be close enough to home that Raph could walk it blind. Leo seemed content by the walk, happy to just be out and about. It made it easier for Raph to say, “Hey, Leo, can I . . .?”

“Hm?” Leo tilted his head at Raph. “What is it?”

Raph swallowed and looked down at his feet, avoiding the cracks and hopping every third step. It helped with the nervous energy. “I told Dad about Donnie’s injury. And that it was my fault.”

Leo didn’t come to a stop, or level Raph with a glare, or anything. He just made another humming sound and shrugged. “It wasn’t your fault though?”

Raph spluttered. “Wh--Yes it was! It was my sai that hit Donnie, and he’s been suffering for it the whole week!”

Leo shook his head. “Raph, you couldn’t have known--”

“The only reason Dad hasn’t freaked out yet is because I’ve been keeping it under wraps, but I can’t think of anything else to do. Donnie’s getting worse and it’s my fault and it all kinda just slipped out.”

Leo finally came to a stop with a heavy sigh, and Raph’s shoulders bunched near his ears. Leo didn’t look at him with anger, though, just contemplative silence. It was starting to make Raph super uneasy, so he spat out, “What!”

“Dad knew about what happened since we got back,” Leo said, softly, like he was talking to a scared animal. “I told him about everything. And I did not say that what happened was your fault. The reason he didn’t freak out is because I told him not to. Well, begged, more like, but that’s beside the point. He’s been helping me get supplies to help from the sidelines.” He lifted his bag of groceries. “I was getting medicine for the wound along with our food for the week.”

“What . . .? But then, why is Donnie getting worse?”

“Because the spot got infected,” Leo groaned. “Donnie was messing with his computer for too long and forgot to change the bandages. So now I’m in charge of changing them and keeping them clean.”

Raph had another question, “How has Dad not freaked out? Dad doesn’t just not freak out!”

“I told you, I begged him not to--”

“That doesn’t make sense!”

Leo watched Raph warily, eyes on Raph’s hands, and Raph guiltily hid them behind his back, bags and all. Leo caught himself looking and turned away sharply. “Dad was a lot more willing to listen once I told him how “helicopter parent” he’s been and promised he could help only if he didn’t panic. Though, now that he knows everyone knows, he might be hovering over Donnie until his leg is better again.”

Raph shook his head, rapidly, and they walked in silence again. They turned the corner to the sewer grate that they used to come and go, and Leo paused. He gave Raph a cautious look, feet tapping nervously. “Raph, you gotta know it isn’t your fault.”

Raph shook his head again and reached down for the grate. “Whatever, man.”

“I mean it,” Leo took hold of Raph’s shoulder, stopping him. “It wasn’t your fault. It was an accident. No one blames you, and neither should you.”

Raph clenched his jaw. After a while, Leo let go of him and opened the way down for them. They walked the last stretch in uncomfortable silence, punctuated by the dripping walls of the sewers and the scuttle of rat feet.

When they made it back to the lair, Raph handed off the groceries to Leo and made a retreat to the bedroom. He didn’t greet anyone.

That night, he stewed in guilt and anger, wanting to punch something or someone. The top of his list was himself.

----

Just as the clock on his alarm changed to five a.m., there was a poke on his shoulder. He hadn’t been sleeping much, mostly he’d been agonizing over everything and feeling a resurgence of the goop. He stuffed his head further into his pillows. “Go ‘way.”

“Raph, it’s me,” Donnie said somewhere to the side of the bed. “I think we need to talk.”

Racing thoughts left Raph dizzy with panic. “Don’ wanna.”

“Please? I promise it won’t take long.”

Groaning, Raph peeked out from his pillows and met his dorky brother in the eye. The youngest beamed at him when he emerged. “C’mon, I don’t wanna wake the others.”

Rolling his eyes, Raph obeyed, sliding out of the room with Donnie and into the living room. There, Donnie sat down on the couch and gestured for Raph to join him. Raph didn’t sit. Shrugging, Donnie said, “Raph, I think we need to set some things straight.”

Raph tensed, not liking where this was going. “Okay?”

“You didn’t hurt me,” Donnie said. “And I’d forgive you anyways.”

The black goop slithered around his stomach, trying to reach his heart, but was stopped by the words. “Donnie--”

“Nope, not listening,” Donnie shook his finger at him. “I said you didn’t, so you didn’t. I’m the smartest person in this house, so I would know, right?”

Raph swallowed past the lump in his throat. “Just because you’re smart doesn’t mean you’re right. You’re still limping! I did that. It was my sai--”

“And it was the bad guys who needed a beat down. You took out your weapon to do just that. It was an accident.”

With a great sniff, Raph turned away. “Well, but I shouldn’t have.”

“Raph,” Donnie said. “I don’t blame you. No one does.”

The conversation with Leo earlier came to mind. Raph’s lips twitched the faintest bit.

“Accidents happen all the time. Like today! I dropped glass all over the floor. That could have gotten someone really hurt. You don’t blame me for dropping my cup, do you?”

“No! You didn’t mean to. It was an accident . . .”

“Exactly. You didn’t mean to. It’s okay, Raph. It was an accident.”

And suddenly, something shifted in Raph’s perspective. He understood. “Ah . . .”

Donnie grinned massively. “Do you get it now?”

“Yeah . . . Yeah I think I do.”

“Good. Now let’s get back to bed, yeah?”

Raph nodded and walked with Donnie back to their shared bedroom. As he walked, the goop retreated into nothing, layers of guilt and hopelessness sloughing away with every step. He felt warmer than he had in days. Maybe a week. The warmth of his family surrounded him as he laid down and finally got the rest he needed.

Chapter Text

“Well maybe I don’t want you to be breathing down my neck!” Donnie shouted, slamming open the kitchen door and stomping to the coffee machine. Raph was hot on his heels, fuming.

“You haven’t been takin’ care of yourself,” Raph gestured to what Donnie was doing right now. “When’s the last time you ate somethin’?”

“Like an hour ago!”

He let out a scoff. “As if. Mikes was in here the whole time and you were never here.”

“I don’t have to answer to you!” Donnie screamed. “Dad’s dead! He’s dead and he doesn’t care, so why do you??”

Raph grit his teeth hard enough that his molars squeaked. “Fine. Be like that. I’m out.” He stomped so hard the whole lair could feel it. Donnie, with grim satisfaction, turned back to his coffee and stewed with the beans.

Their dad’s passing was hard on all of them. Of course it was. However, Donnie seemed to be taking it the hardest. He’d been holed up in his lab for weeks, building and breaking and building again hundreds of gadgets and knick-knacks and things that really didn’t matter. Not like his health, or his brothers, or literally anything. It was starting to worry everyone, but mainly Raph.

Raph had been . . . dealing. He’d been eating and sleeping and bathing and punching (lots of punching), and he’d at least been talking with the others. Donnie’s absence felt like a wound in his soul. Donnie could tell just based off of the way the snapper looked at him. 

Well, tough. Donnie needed to work. There were so many projects he needed to finish, so many things to be done, and he couldn’t waste time eating or sleeping or bathing or hanging out. He still had that time-travelling microwave to make, afterall.

Once the coffee was finished brewing, Donnie smuggled away his prize and huddled down in the lab. He didn’t notice the worried glances from the blue and orange turtles he breezed past.

Several hours went by with barely any progress. He was interrupted some time later by a knock on the desk next to him. Startled, he hissed up at none other than his twin. Of course, because Leo always interrupted, because he had portal powers that Donnie was still unable to cancel out when it came to his lab.

“Whoa,” Leo held up his hands in a sign of peace. “No need to go all Crazytello on me.”

Donnie sighed, with a verbal “sigh”, already exhausted by the conversation that hadn’t even started. Leo had a way of doing that. He glared up at his twin. “To what do I owe this great dishonor?”

“Wow, already snippy, I didn’t even say anything yet.”

“And yet, here you are, wasting my time.”

“You really hurt Raph’s feelings,” Leo blurted, not even beating around the bush. He fiddled with one of Donnie’s tools, not looking at the softshell. “He’s been moping all afternoon.”

And, well. Donnie didn’t like that at all, actually. He hated when he made Raph upset. “I’ve . . . been busy.”

“Yeah, for weeks. He’s worried about you, man.”

“Snort,” Donnie snorted. “I could have guessed that much.”

“At least go apologize,” Leo frowned. “You’ve been really mean lately. I know Dad’s death has been hard on everyone--”

“Oh, really? Says the one who wasn’t even here.”

That shut Leo up. His twin’s lip wobbled before he was able to cobble together a mask of indifference. Guilt stabbed at Donnie. Leo didn’t mean to be missing for months.

“I’m sorry, Nardo,” Donnie said, genuinely. “If I go talk to Raph, will you please let me get back to work?”

Leo nodded and didn’t wait to see if Donnie would actually go before he portaled away. Donnie would have to make sure his twin was okay later.

Now, Donnie could go back to working and deal with talking to his brother for later. But he just . . . Raph was really upset, according to Leon. Donnie hated making Raph upset. It was like he was letting down his dad . . .

Shoring himself up, Donnie pushed away from his desk and marched his way to the living room, where he was hoping Raph was. Sure enough, he spotted his biggest brother hunched over himself on the couch and looking absolutely miserable. Mikey was seated next to him, smoothing a hand down his back and whispering something to him. Upon noticing Donnie in the doorway, Mikey’s eyebrows went up in surprise. He said something to Raph, who then looked up at Donnie too. Raph’s eyes were bloodshot and watery. Donnie shuffled from foot to foot.

“I’m gonna make dinner,” Mikey stated, shooting up and running away from the tension. Donnie was jealous. He wished he could do the same. Hopefully, though, he’d be able to fix all of this swiftly so he didn’t have to live in the tension for long.

Raph turned back to his hands, wringing them nervously and sniffling into his shoulder. Donnie came further into the room and stood awkwardly before his brother.

“Um. Leon told me that I had upset you. And I really, really do not like upsetting you. That’s two reallys.” Donnie held up two fingers. Raph didn’t look up. Donnie put his hand back at his side, stimming anxiously. “So, I have come to apologize for my behavior and wish for you to no longer be upset.”

“Donnie,” Raph finally brought his eyes back up to meet Donnie’s. “I’m not upset about our fight.”

“You’re not?”

Raph shook his head. “I’m seriously worried about you. It kinda boiled over into that fight today, but that’s why I’m upset, not because you yelled.”

“Oh.”

When Donnie didn’t say anything else, Raph sighed and patted the seat next to him that Mikey had vacated. Donnie shuffled over and flopped himself down. They looked at the Christmas tree in the corner that Donnie didn’t remember going up. In fact, what day was it?

“You know, I cared about you. Always have and always will. And Dad did too, in his weird way.”

Donnie’s shoulders hunched. “No, not really. Not like you did. He forgot a lot, he was barely around, and he never appreciated anything I made unless it benefitted him.”

Looking at it now, Raph was the only one who praised Donnie for everything he made, even if he had no idea what it was. Unlike Dad, Raph was always there, cheering Donnie on. He’d supported him, praised him, gave him his full attention, and always asked about what his next big project was.

“Heh,” Donnie sniffled. “You know he wanted me to remake that time-travelling microwave? That’s . . . that’s what I’ve been working on. It was pushed aside for other things for so long, but now that he isn’t here . . .”

Raph’s heavy hand came to rest on Donnie’s shoulder. The pressure felt nice, but it wasn’t what Donnie wanted most. So, he reached out and wrapped his arms around his big brother/father figure and squeezed. Raph reciprocated immediately, giving the exact amount of pressure and care that Donnie needed. That Raph had always provided.

“I miss him, Raphie.”

“I do, too.” Raph rumbled. They talked for hours about Dad and all the good memories. And then they talked about the bad memories. And then they just talked. It was healing, in a way, to let out all of his frustrations and sorrows to the one person who always listened. And in return Raph shared his memories and aggravations, too. They laughed and cried in front of the tree, the lights glowing softly and giving a warm atmosphere to the room. It was . . . nice.

“Remember when he did that lemonade stand with us?”

Donnie snorted wetly. “And he got lemon juice up his nose?”

“Yeah,” Raph chuckled. “And you wrote the signs to put up on the stand in your best handwriting. I was so proud of how well the letters turned out.”

Another squeeze, and Donnie buried his face into Raph’s neck.

“I want you to come back, Don,” Raph said softly. “I miss ya terribly.”

Donnie squirmed in Raph’s hold, wanting to get back to his projects. He’d been gone for this long already . . .

“It’s Christmas,” Raph went on. “Can you maybe grant me this one wish?”

And Donnie . . . had no idea that much time had passed. He had no idea it was Christmas. And he felt absolutely crushed, because that meant he didn’t have any gifts for his family, for the first time in years. Raph must’ve seen his face fall, because he said, “All I want is my little brother back.”

And, well, who was Donnie to deny him that. It was such a simple request.

“Okay,” Donnie whispered.

He got another Raph Hug, getting the life squeezed out of him in the best way.

“Are you two feeling better?” Mikey called from the doorway, Leo beside him. Donnie’s twin looked better, now, and the purple turtle wondered if Mikey and he had their own heart-to-heart. Still, Donnie needed to correctly apologize to Leo later about what he said.

“Yeah,” Raph grinned. “We ready for Christmas celebrations?”

“Yeah baby!” Mikey bounced on his toes. “Dinner’s good to go! And presents are all set out.”

The Hamatos gathered in the kitchen and started the festivities, and something in Donnie relaxed entirely. He missed this.

Tomorrow would be filled with more apologies and getting set up with a therapist from the Hidden City to learn how to cope with everything. Tomorrow would see Donnie delivering gifts to his brothers like he was a green Santa, while his brothers would wonder how he managed to get gifts done so quickly and then consequently order Donnie to go to sleep because he stayed up all night.

But today, he enjoyed being with the family he had left, and the father figure who cared about him.