Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Donnie had been stressed. Always had been, to an extent. There was always something stressing him out, even as a kid. Stressed about his dumb-dumb brothers, stressed about growing up, and those damned beach balls. Stressed about his inventions. Stressed about the Shredder, Big Mama, and the Hamato family.

Stressed about the Kraang. But the Kraang was gone. 

It had been two months since the whole debacle. Since his flashy, hurt, dumb-dumb twin just about killed himself for the sake of the world. The Hamato family was… struggling, to say the least. There was so much to do, so much to deal with. They had a new family member- Casey Jones. He was a nice boy, but integrating him into a non-apocalyptic world was tough. He had seen so much in his previous life, which helped in some cases, and hurt in others. At least his medical experience was like a pillar, holding them strong when Leo couldn’t be the medic.

People were hurt. The war on the Kraang had impacts on them all, though some more than others. Raphael was healing the quickest, at least physically. His eye was damaged, but it wasn’t permanent. His vision was improving by the day. Mikey’s arms were fragile, and so was the rest of him, as much as he tried to stay strong. He had tremors, weakness, and pain at random times. It was heartbreaking for the artist; he had a long path of healing, but at least he was still healing. Sure, Donnie had suffered some damage to his soft shell after taking control of the Technodrome, but it was nothing compared to what his brothers had suffered, especially Leo. Shattered ribs, broken carapace, broken arm, dislocated joints, head trauma, the list went on. Being a mutant, he was healing faster than any human could, but damage was still damage. His bones were healing quickly, due to being comatose for the first month post-sacrifice, but he was still in pain and found it difficult to breathe some days. His concussion had since healed, but he was still sick now and then. He couldn’t walk very well, still in the process of relearning. His mental state was far from healthy, either.

It was stressful. The most stressed Donnie had ever felt, if he was being honest. Which he wasn't. Dr. Feelings didn't know. He wasn’t one to voice these thoughts. He certainly hadn’t voiced what he felt, either.

 Donnie was dealing with some muscle pain from all the stress , the fighting, and the recovery.

The only problem was: it should have subsided by now.

It should have been gone.

Sore muscles were a given, an expectation. Within the first week after the Kraang, everyone was hurting, it wasn’t out of the ordinary. But now, it was persisting. It was getting worse, even.

The pain wasn’t completely unfamiliar. Donnie remembered days when he was a tot, on very rare occasions, his legs would ache like this. But only from overuse, and certainly not this bad. Even then, it’s not like it lasted very long. Half an hour, at worst. That’s all it was supposed to be. A childhood development pain, something that came with growing up a mutant. He was sure his brothers dealt with the same thing. Yet, here he was, sitting in his lab, feeling too weak to stand. Donnie assumed he was injured, somehow, but when they all completed their Leo-mandated scans after the invasion, one of the last things Leo managed to say before he passed out for a month, Donnie had no broken bones. No warning signs, no nothing. So he assumed it would fade with time.

He was still waiting.

He didn’t want to bother his family with this; it was hardly important. He was still functioning, after all. Muscle stress was highly plausible, and surely, it would pass. Even if the pain was different from muscle stress… Besides, enough medical difficulties were going on, enough medical records to keep track of, therapy plans, diagnoses, etc. Donnie didn’t want to add to them. 

After the invasion, he came out in the best condition. He was a moment of hope for their family. One person came out of it in good health, so everyone was relying on him when the others were struggling. When Mikey's arms were rendered useless, Donnie would carry his things. When Raph couldn’t see, Donnie would guide him. When Leo couldn’t breathe, Donnie would talk him through it. When Leo was stuck in his hospital bed and couldn’t move, Donnie would run his errands. When anyone was stuck in physical therapy, they would call Donnie for help.

Only now, there were some complications. 

Walking was becoming painful. He could still move, but damn did it hurt some days. Times when the persistent, numbing pain ran through his entire lower body. It wasn’t every day. Not yet, at least. But due to the steady increase in frequency, Donnie didn’t doubt it would be soon. He had his good days. He had his bad days. Days when it felt like he was being crushed by burning concrete. Today was an okay day. It was predominantly weakness, something he could hide well if the day wasn’t too demanding. 

He had been relying on his tech-bō a lot since it started. Something to lean onto, something to stabilize him if he needed it. If his brothers got suspicious, he could think of a good excuse. He loved his technology, and no one was going to doubt him.

Donnie was staring at the floor, waiting for the strange, fuzzy feeling in his legs to dissipate. Much like most of his feelings , he didn’t quite know how to describe what it felt like. But it felt wrong. Pain or burning sometimes, like his bones were folding in on themselves or his muscles were eroding away inside him… pressure and numbness other times, where his legs felt too heavy to lift, yet not there at all or as if a steam roller was running over his legs, just without the pain. Hard to describe. What he hated most was that there was no pattern to it. Nothing he could track, nothing to reference, nothing to expect. It had a mind of its own, whatever it was. It was frustrating because it was something he couldn’t understand. Tech-wiz, yes, medical-wiz? Not so much. He tried to research his problem, but his symptoms were too broad. There were too many options. All it was doing was scaring him, worrying him about far worse conditions than logical.

A very weak knock came from the door, the sound resonating from a less-than-normal height on the opaque glass. “Hey, Dee?” His little brother called, “You in there?”

Donnie heaved a sigh, pushing himself from the table. As he approached, the doors slid open. “Yes, Michael, what can I do for you?” His tired voice was impossible to hide.

“Are you busy right now?” Mikey asked, tilting his head to peek into the lab, which lacked proper lighting. Donnie shook his head. With a smile, “Great! Could you help me get some water to the med bay?”

Donnie looked at his bō, which was resting against his desk. Should he bring it with him so he could walk for longer? It's just water, Mikey would get suspicious. He thought for a moment, tracking the movement this journey would take. His lab to the kitchen, kitchen to the med bay, med bay to his room. Should be doable. Right? In and out. “I can do that.” He followed his brother into the hallway, and thankfully, the pain didn’t immediately join. There was pressure, but it was tolerable. Donnie cleared his throat as they walked, “How are your arms today?”

Mikey nodded, “Not bad. I can’t lift them all that high, but my grip strength is intact. The compression gloves you made me help.” His smile was soft as he kept looking forward. “You think you could make some for Leo? I think he’s dealing with some nasty inflammation and, well, ya know, pain.”

“I’m sure I can find time in my demanding schedule to make that happen.” His voice was flat, focused on keeping a steady cadence with his movement.

They kept up a small conversation as they reached the kitchen. Whenever he could, Donnie would lean against the counters to support his weight. Mikey’s movement was limited, so Donnie filled two cups of water and placed them in his little brother's hands, carefully waiting for him to feel stable. What a reflection of himself. Once Mikey was set, Donnie filled another two, and the brothers went off to the med bay. The pressure was building up, and Donnie’s knees began to feel like they were on the brink of bending in half. Almost like rubber?

As the med bay doors slid open, the physical therapy scene was unveiled. Draxum and Splinter were at Leo’s side as he slowly moved across a set of parallel bars. His legs were healing well enough, but his muscles were weakened, and the process of relearning to walk was slow but steady. Donnie feared he’d end up the same way. Leo briefly looked up but turned away quickly once he tripped over his foot. Draxum kept him up while their father moved to meet his sons. Raphael was across the room, looking at Leo’s medical records and progress.

“Oh, my boys, thank you!” The rat said as he took the cups from Mikey. “I see you’re holding up well, Orange. I’m glad.”

Donnie followed his father to place the water on a nearby table. “Woah, Donnie, you okay? You’ve got a Raph chasm.” Leo finally spoke, finishing his track. Draxum brought him his wheelchair.

The big snapping turtle in the corner looked up, frowning. “Hey, man,” he groaned quietly. 

Donnie stood up straighter, confused. “What? Scoff , no, I don't?” He sounded too defensive. Damnit . Note for later: fix your tone .

Leo hummed, “You’re not looking so good.” Despite the insult, Donnie was happy to hear his brother sounding more normal. Mikey’s alter ego was putting in some work.

Still, he was insulted, “I know I’ve been working overtime, but I didn’t think I looked that bad. I even spent extra time on my eyebrows!” He set the water down, frowning. His exhaustion made it harder to conceal his expressions. He was showing too much.

“Wha- no, well, obviously you’ll never match your one and only face man,” Leo countered, flipping hair he didn't have, before looking more serious, “but genuinely, you look like you’re in pain, mi hermano , are you okay?”

Everyone looked at him, confused or expectant. Donnie rolled his shoulder back, attempting to appear relaxed. “I’m not in pain, just slept a little… wonky.”

He had been standing for too long. His thighs were starting to burn, and his knees felt like they were about to collapse and turn to dust. He leaned back to rest against the table but underestimated how far it was. He stumbled, catching himself. Thankfully, his brothers didn’t think it all that strange. He had never been one for the physical skills. Those lousy games of basketball were enough proof.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me,” Donnie started, the pain welling up quickly, “I have some tech to work on.” He turned on his heel, immediately regretting it, and walked out of the med bay. Once he was out of sight, he clung to the walls of their hideout to keep himself from collapsing.

The family looked at each other, confused. Donnie was an odd one, that wasn’t a surprise. But, recently, there were times when he was off. Less attentive, less sassy, less aware. Their brother was a known insomniac, but he was looking worse. 

Leo knew his twin. He knew something was wrong, but he also knew it wouldn’t be easy to find out what. Donnie had been quieter as of late, keeping to his lab or room, his quips weaker. His brother was frequently tired before everything happened, too invested in his inventions to sleep, running on excessive amounts of caffeine. Leo was used to that kind of tired Donnie. This was a different kind of tired. His brother looked exhausted, heavy, weak . What's worse is that Leo could tell Donnie was trying to hide it, but didn’t quite know how.

Chapter Text

When they were tots, Donnie had always been the weakest. He wasn’t frail; he just didn’t have the same knack for combat that his brothers did. He progressed slower. He was still a fantastic ninja, nonetheless. His brain allowed for more strategy in his movements, and he had good reflexes. He could move quickly, a defensive fighter. A direct opposite of his older brother. This difference, growing up, made Raph more protective, babied his little brother for a lot longer. But Donnie got better with time and age. Even before the invasion, his improvements were evident.

So why was Donnie moving so slowly, now?

Leo had been watching his brother over the past few days, after the weird incident in the med bay. Maybe he was overthinking. The twins were always overprotective of one another. If Leo’s nightmares didn’t keep him up at night, Donnie’s weird behavior did.

Leo couldn’t sleep, the voice of Kraang Prime ringing in his head and the painful darkness of the Prison Dimension crowding his vision. He didn’t want to be alone, not tonight. The injured turtle slowly dragged himself off his bed and into the wheelchair next to him. Being with Donnie always made him feel safer. Knowing he wasn’t alone, knowing his brother would be there for him, even if there was never a word spoken between them. Just his presence eased the anxiety. Leo liked to think his presence did the same for Donnie, though he doubted that would ever be admitted.

He had only been out of the med bay for just over two weeks, and within those eighteen days, Leo found himself in Donnie’s room for at least ten of them. Sometimes he’d slip in unnoticed, other times he’d encounter his twin in a late-night engineering session.

The hallways were quiet, their home still heavy with recovery and exhaustion. People were trying to be strong, but once night fell, so did their walls. Alone, he knew it was when everyone was at their weakest. Mikey was bad at hiding his crying when his hands would fail him, when he couldn't create his art. Raph’s breakdowns after Kraang nightmares, much like Leo's, were loud and distressing. Raph was also having a hard time adjusting to his failing depth perception, so in the event of late-night snacking, his movements were clear. Even Donnie appeared weaker in the evening, his distant behavior cracking. Splinter’s conversations with the past Hamatos didn’t go unnoticed either, with occasional blue light spilling out from underneath his room door. Leo’s Japanese wasn’t great, but he could still piece together some conversations. Splinter was scared, devastated, and in a lot of emotional distress over his “failures”. Both as a Hamato and as a father. It mangled Leo’s heart to hear his father speak that way.

Donnie’s room didn’t have any lights on. Even still, Leo knocked quietly. After a moment, the door slid open. His brother was at his desk, a dim light against the far wall illuminated his poor posture. He wasn’t writing, wasn’t working, just sitting there. Head in his hands, a blanket overtop his lap.

“ Hermano? Whatcha doin?” 

His voice was startling, and Donnie shifted uncomfortably to face him. “Nardo,” He said quietly, “Couldn’t sleep?” He asked, directing the attention away from himself. When he tried to stand, Leo watched his slight struggle, the shakiness of his legs. When he stood, even in the dim lighting, Leo could see a faint look of anxiety in Donnie’s eyes when he looked down at his wheelchair. A new kind of fear. 

“Um, yeah,” Leo started, slowly wheeling himself into the room. “Can I stay with you tonight?”

Donnie smiled. A genuine smile, but one of relief.

_______________

Donnie’s legs felt like weights as he started to walk, and his bones felt like they were about to snap in half. But his brother needed him, so he would be there. He always would. 

He had been stuck at his desk for the past hour. Even the call of his warm bed couldn’t beat the overwhelming pain that ran like lava down his body. He just couldn’t muster the energy. Donnie had tried to sleep at his desk, but as any night would, insomnia hit the turtle like a train, his thoughts dragging him through hell and back. But with Leo needing him, it was finally enough motivation to stand and bear the searing pain for just a few minutes.

As Leo made his way over, Donnie pressed a button on the side of his bed. It was a mechanic he added a while back, after their first encounter with the Shredder. Leo’s nightmares started then. Though infrequently, he sought out refuge with Donnie enough times that he designed an easier way for their impromptu sleepovers. Instead of setting up a mini turtle pile of blankets and pillows, which often took too long for Donnie's liking, he modeled his bed after those pull-out couches, adding a second mattress underneath and a simple pulley system that allowed it to level with the pre-existing bed. It was a fun week-long experiment.

Leo got himself into bed while Donnie scanned his selection of books for a distraction. Once he landed on an astrophysics book, he switched on the bedside lamp and climbed in after his brother.

Leo was getting cozied up in Donnie’s mounds of fuzzy blankets, snuggling up the pillows, as he watched his brother. Donnie scooted back, pulling a blanket over his legs, the warmth soothing the pain by at least 1%. Taking a deep breath, he opened his book. He started finding it difficult to focus. After the first moment, he was fine, but then his previous movement caused intense burning to wash over his legs. He managed to keep his response minimal, having had this sensation a few times before. Sometimes the pain only came when he sat down, like a ticking time bomb. If he kept moving, he could keep the pain away for longer, but the longer he moved, the more it would hurt. An infinite loop of unavoidable pain.

Donnie got stuck on the same paragraph for far too long.

He looked towards his brother, contemplating maybe telling him what was going on.

But he looked so peaceful, his eyes closed, and his breathing steady. Leo didn’t get this kind of peace very often right now. Even though Leo was dealing with the most medical care out of all of them, he was still being the family medic when he could. One day after he awoke from his coma, he was back to medicine. Adjusting PT plans, medicine dosages, and other treatments. He was still bedridden, so he wasn’t actively working, much to his dismay. But once he was moving in his wheelchair, he was helping his brothers like he hadn’t suffered the most traumatic event of their lives.

Donnie didn’t want to add something else to his plate. 

A small part of him felt bad about keeping this from his family. Mikey had been working really hard in their newly established family therapy to get each other to open up a bit more, especially Mister No-Emotions himself. Leo had been making progress, revealing a lot about his mental state. What exactly led him to that fatal decision, how he went about being a leader, everything. It improved Raph’s feelings about the leader switch-up, alongside Splinter talking about why he made that decision. It was an emotional session that Donnie desperately wished he wasn’t there for. It was a lot for his brain to take in and quickly became overstimulating.

But it was helping the two brothers be more cooperative in their day-to-day lives.

Still, Donnie knew there were still things his twin wasn’t telling them. The insecurities, the fears, but even so, he was trying. Which was far more than what Donnie was doing.

It was difficult. He didn’t know how to articulate what he needed to, not that he really wanted to, so he kept things simple. He didn’t overload his family with info, dwindling things down to what was easiest. It saved him energy. His brothers thought he was getting better.

Mikey pushed the expectation that the brothers should talk when they were struggling, so as not to keep suffering by themselves. As much as he might deny it, that was exactly what Donnie was doing.

The pain should be going away. Surely, it would soon. Two months later, he had to be close. He was simply under a lot of stress, and he was moving a lot; he just hadn’t had the time to properly recover. That’s what it was. This was normal.

Just as Donnie’s eyes began to droop from exhaustion, a sudden, sharp, and grueling pain shot through his leg, lurching him forward. He gasped, dropping his book and clutching his knee. Donnie groaned, leaning forward as the sting that felt like it was sourced from a swarm of enraged wasps, remained, growing in intensity.

Leo stirred next to him, eyes opening quickly once he processed Donnie's struggle. “Dee,” He pushed himself up, “Dee, are you okay?” His voice was heavy with concern. He placed a hand on his brother's shoulder.

Donnie couldn’t respond properly, curling into himself. Through gritted teeth, Donnie desperately tried to grasp the air around him, but the pain was overbearing. 

“Donnie!” Leo called, scared.

 Donnie heaved a heavy breath and grunted. “I’m fine,” he croaked. The pain then began to dissipate as a numbing sensation replaced it. He gasped, finally able to breathe, and readjusted himself. That’s not normal . He looked at Leo, whose eyes were wide with worry.

“Dude!” He clasped Donnie's shoulders, “What the hell was that?!”

“Nothing, it was nothing. Nothing to worry about,” he swallowed hard, shutting down his fears. “I’m tired, let's just go back to sleep.” Donnie lifted his brother's hands off and scooched forward, lying down and tugging the blanket over his shoulders. Donnie turned to face away from his brother. He really was tired now; he just hoped he would be able to sleep. Leo sat up for a moment longer, shocked and scared by what he saw. Knowing Donnie wasn’t going to talk, he reluctantly laid back down and stared at the ceiling, waiting for sleep to claim him.

Donnie ached. His leg was numb, and it felt heavy. He didn’t move, not wanting to spark another one of whatever that was. It took him a while to drift to sleep, long after Leo finally did. But eventually, he slept.

Chapter Text

Donnie wasn’t there when Leo woke up the next morning. The image of his twin engulfed in agony was still fresh in his mind. A rising level of anxiety got Leo to crawl out of bed and into his wheelchair. He pulled on one of Donnies nearby hoodies. When he entered the kitchen in search of his brother, he only found Mikey cooking. He was humming a quiet melody, swaying softly, in his own little world. He had his bicep-length compression gloves on and was working with simple recipes to ease his way into the morning.

When the box turtle finally noticed his brother, “Good morning, Leo!” His smile was as bright as the sun, “I’m going to be done with breakfast soon, do you want to wait in here for it or should I bring it to you in the med bay later?”

“Later is fine, thank you, Mikey.” Leo looked around, “Have you seen Donnie?”

The youngest brother hummed in thought, “Can’t say I have. Did you check his lab?”

“No, not yet. Just wondering.” He glanced at the clock. Physical Therapy was coming up. He’d have to search for his brother later. Leo thanked Mikey again and made his way to the med bay.

Baron Draxum was already at work when Leo entered, doing an eye test with Raph. The wounds over his left eye had healed, leaving a rather gnarly set of scars. His eye color had lightened a shade and sometimes his pupils would dilate without reason.

“S, K, Z, uh, I’m guessing that’s a B,” he read off a plaque Draxum held far away, “L, J, and M?”

Leo pulled off the purple sweater and set it down once he made it to a side table that had painkillers for his therapy set aside along with a glass of warm water. He watched his brother as he gulped down the medicine. Leo then made his way to the familiar parallel bars to wait. 

“Very good, Raphael. That’s better than the last session; you’re improving rapidly.” The scientist stated. “I suspect that with continued treatment, your vision should return within another two or three weeks.”

“Appreciate it, Barry. I’ll let you know if anything changes.” The large turtle shuffled off the hospital bed and went to meet Leo. “Hey, bro, how are you doing today?” He said, with his usual amount of brotherly concern.

“Feeling great, don’t even worry,” Leo added more pep to his voice, masking his concern. “Leon is ready to kill this therapy.” He pushed himself up from his chair just as Draxum meandered over. Raph kept his brother steady as he hoisted himself onto the parallel bars.

“Ease into it, Leonardo,” Draxum said, observing his patient's movement, “No need to rush.”

Leo took a few tentative steps, getting comfortable with the weight of his body on his weakened legs. He was feeling more stable every day, even though he insisted his progress was taking ages. He was released from his cast a few weeks ago, but he’d have to continue therapy for another few weeks with a boot. Leo hoped he could get out of it, the colorless and sterile environment of the med bay was getting annoying. He was bored, spending most of his time there. But healing had to have a cost. Anxious to get back out in the field and fighting, there were sacrifices he was willing to make.

On the topic of injury, Leo was reminded of the concerning event from the prior evening, ripping away his focus.

Donnie doubled over from pain.

Was his brother injured? Why hadn’t he said anything?

But his scans came up clean, Leo remembered. He took an in-depth look at every scan his family had taken after he woke up, to assure he was fully aware of their statuses. He’d have to investigate later, but like always, his brother was busy. Too invested in his work to talk. Leo had to find his brother. But not now. Even though it tore at his mind to not think about his brother, he had to focus on himself.

A rather new concept for Leo.

He kept moving forward on the bars, his shoulders starting to feel the weight. Even though his shoulders were pressed tightly together, his steps were stable and fluid. The usual pain was hardly there, though that credit should go to the painkillers. In the earlier PT sessions, the medicine wasn’t enough to fend off the pain, so in a weird, sadistic way, Leo marked his progress by how successful those pills became.

“Eyes up,” Draxum reminded.

Leo directed his vision away from his dragging feet, just a few more steps away from the end. He managed to keep his attention forward just long enough to see Donnie walk past the med bay doors with more haste than necessary.

“Donnie!” Leo called, without thinking. As if his heart took control over his brain, he started to move. In a desperate attempt to reach his brother, Leo took his hand off the bar and took a too-quick step forward. Putting far too much pressure on his injured leg, he tumbled to the ground. The sudden contact with his knee shot pain straight up his thigh. He swore loudly, hanging his head.

“Leo!” Raph yelled, kneeling to meet his brother, “Are you hurt? What were you doing?”

Leo laughed at himself. He didn’t even think when he saw Donnie, just leaped at the opportunity to speak to him. It was silly, his heart yanking all control. “I’m okay, Raph. Not injured,” His face was slightly flushed with embarrassment as Raph pulled him up. Once he was resituated on the bars, “Not sure why I did that,” He put on a smile, “I’ll just talk to Donnie later.” He said when Raph looked inquisitively worried. Raph was concerned, but he took the Slider’s word for it.

The three continued working on Leo’s PT for about an hour before he was finally set free. Draxum talked through his plan to get Leo out of the wheelchair, like what point Leo had to be at in order for that change to be safe, and general ways Draxum aimed to restore some normalcy in his life. Once they finished, Leo was left alone in the med bay, pulling the hoodie over himself once again. The soft inside was comforting after the crisp air of the room.

It felt surreal, where they were. Leo thought he’d be more relaxed by now, but he was still haunted by the Prison Dimension. The events of that day, how it was his fault, about everything, replayed so frequently in his mind that he was afraid he’d never forget them. Forgetting might’ve been impossible, but he would have liked to ease up on the remembering. The only thing reminding him that his family survived and that everything was okay, and this wasn’t all some sort of sick, Kraang mind technology meant to make him live the life he would never have, was that his brothers were getting better.

But now Donnie was hurt. Donnie was supposed to be healthy, the one who made it without major injuries. His twin’s health made Leo feel better about what happened, knowing he hadn’t doomed all of his family. But now something was wrong, and Donnie wasn’t saying what. 

What good was Leo if he couldn’t help his brothers?

He paused at the thought. No, stop. He replayed Mikey’s therapy lessons in his head. His worth wasn’t determined by what he could do. Just being there was enough.

He was enough. 

Leo shook his head, dragging himself away from the dark spiral those thoughts often took him. He knew he needed to be more honest in therapy, but it was difficult. He was scared of how awful his mind could be and didn’t like voicing them. What if talking about them made it worse? What if his thoughts scared them away?

Hastily, Leo left the med bay, forcing his thoughts elsewhere before another spiral happened. Those conversations with himself were dangerous, like endless blackholes where each one would lead to another, stripping him of any joy he managed to find.

He groaned, making his way back to the kitchen. His stomach growled. Had he missed breakfast? Had Mikey forgotten to bring the food? That was odd for him, the youngest brother was always on top of that kind of thing. Mikey desperately wanted to ensure his brother was eating enough protein so that he could heal stronger than ever. Sometimes Leo thought he was eating too much, but at least there were no doubts about his vitamin intake. Mikey had a whole spreadsheet displayed on the fridge. It was endearing.

“Mikey?” Leo called, confused. He was about to roll away when his brother returned.

“I’m sorry about breakfast, I’ll reheat it quickly. I was talking to Donnie and got distracted.” Mikey huffed, waving his hands aimlessly, “He rammed his leg into the table earlier while moving stuff to his lab, and it looked very painful.” He muttered in passing.

“Is he okay?” Leo’s voice had an edge to it.

His brother nodded, “Yeah, I think he was just being dramatic. You know, in true Donnie fashion.” Leo hummed, not convinced. What if he wasn’t being dramatic? Mikey saw his narrowed eyes, “He’s in his lab… if you need him. I’ll bring you breakfast in a minute.”

“Sounds good.”

Donnie was sitting at his desk, his left leg propped up as he was sewing something by hand. Leo watched his twin for a few moments in an attempt to catch something. The soft shell kept pulling back his work to observe his stitching, assuring nothing was snagged. He constantly checked the length of what now appeared to be a sleeve. 

Not wanting to risk his brother pricking himself, Leo waited until he set down the needle for a moment. “Donnie?”

His brother jumped, “Oh my banana pancakes!” He yelped, his right leg ramming into the base of the desk. He hissed, quickly pushing back on his desk chair, rolling away. “Nardo!” He bit out through his teeth.

Leo flinched, inhaling sharply at the impact, “Sorry, Dee.” That was the opposite effect he was trying to achieve.  “Are you busy?”

Donnie looked back at his desk for a moment, “Yes, and no? What do you need?” He asked, clearly trying to steer Leo away. Leo took a breath and looked at him expectantly. Donnie knew full well what his twin wanted to talk about. Before continuing, Donnie slid back to his desk and scooped up his project, gingerly picking up the needle. The sleeve looked just about done. “I’m fine, Nardo. Really.”

“That didn’t look fine.”

Donnie continued stitching, knotting some loose ends, and stretching the fabric to assure its security. “It was a leg cramp.”

“I’ve never seen a leg cramp that painful.” Not from you, at least .

“Ever heard of a Charley horse?”

“Those are in your calf. You were having pain in your thigh if I remember correctly.” He knew he did.

“I don’t think they’re picky.”

“Something was very wrong; you weren’t even stretching.” Leo crossed his arms. In usual times, he’d lean against the door frame to add to his flair, but his wheelchair armrest would have to do.

“I just overworked my muscles yesterday during training. Happens all the time.”

“No, it doesn't?” Leo contorted, “Plus, you weren’t training yesterday.”

“I was, actually,” Donnie said, annoyance leaking into his tone. He stood up slowly and took his project with him. “I wasn’t aware you had an eye on me at every minute of the day, he says without a hint of sarcasm . Maybe get that eye checked.” As Donnie passed, he shoved the lump of fabric into Leo's lap, his mouth pressed into a thin line. “Now, I would appreciate it if you stopped bugging me about it.”

Leo was, once again, left alone, staring at a wall. He unraveled the sleeve, shocked at how small it was. He pulled at the material. It’s a compression glove. Just like the ones Mikey had. Now he felt kind of bad. Went to pick a fight only to get a gift. Granted, that gift came with an atrocious amount of sass, but a gift either way.

Leo mimicked his twin's earlier facial expression and started scrunching up the hoodie sleeve. Just as he started yanking up the glove, Mikey came in with two servings of breakfast. He halted at the lack of one of his older brothers. “Where's Dee?”

Leo shrugged. “Here, give me my plate and I’ll go out to the living room with you.” He smiled, trying not to alarm his brother. 

Mikey tilted his head at the layer of fabric still around his brother's elbow. “Oh! He started on the gloves!”

“Yeah,” Leo replied softly. Damnit, he loved his brother.

He was conflicted. He wanted so badly to believe his brother, believe that it was just a leg cramp, but if it was, why lie? Donnie wasn’t training; no one was. If the doors to the dojo were opened, the dust would be beyond evident. Besides, Donnie was too focused on creating his new security measures, upgrading his tech, creating new tech, he wouldn’t sacrifice his precious time for training .

Maybe Leo was paranoid. He wouldn’t put it past himself, knowing the fears that still resided deep within his heart. There were things he still needed to work out in therapy, but a lot of them revolved around Donnie, and Donnie wasn’t one for therapy. As of recently, wasn’t one for conversation, either. Emotionally unavailable bad-boy, or whatever.

Maybe he needed to talk to Mikey. Perhaps getting Donnie in a less public therapy would help. With no Raph, no dad, and on occasion, no April or CJ. Leo was no stranger to the anxiety of family knowing about their problems, so maybe a smaller group could alleviate that fear for Donnie. It was worth a shot. Maybe?

Leo shook off the idea. Donnie would never agree. His brother had a wall up so high it felt impossible to see any light coming from beyond it. It shadowed his life, sealing away his emotions and struggles. His brother felt more sheltered recently; that wall was getting higher. Those shadows only festered the pain, Leo knew. Sooner or later, it would crumble, and with it, any semblance of worth or joy. Any meaning, ambition, or passion would die, those shadows depriving them of what they needed. A sense of light, no matter how dim. Leo would prefer it not come to that. His experience in waiting until the last minute to let everything go, to let that wall crumble and just about take his life with it, wasn’t exactly spectacular. Look where it got him.

Leo took a long, deep breath. His brother was fine. Maybe he was training while testing out his new security tech. Leo had his struggles, but that didn’t mean Donnie shared the same ones. But the fear of that possibility was enough to stir uneasy feelings in Leo’s chest.

  “Are you okay?” Mikey asked, bringing him out of his thoughts. “You’re quiet.” He added before shoveling another bite of food into his mouth.

Should Leo tell him? He didn’t want to scare his brother if he was, indeed, just being paranoid. Donnie would kill him, too. Until he had more answers, maybe he would keep this to himself. “Yeah,” Leo smiled, “Just thinking.”

Chapter Text

Donnie couldn’t believe how amazing he felt when he woke up the next morning. It was like the past few days of agony never happened. When he crawled out from underneath his mounds of blankets and warily eased his weight onto his feet, it was like he was brand new.

He was finally healing.

He was finally healing!

He heaved a breath of relief, thanking Galileo that he was right. He was fine, his body wasn’t failing him, he was just tired. He had slept spectacularly well last night, much to his surprise.

He bounced his knees a few times, anxiously testing the waters. Nothing ached. He was ecstatic. With the months of chronic pain, even his “good days” still carried pressure and a sting here and there, he had almost forgotten what it felt like to feel normal . To feel like he was capable of making it through a day.

As the cold air of the distant sewers washed over his shoulders, Donnie reached for one of his hoodies. Except, he couldn’t find it. He looked around, confused for a moment, before remembering one particular blue turtle who was adorned in his signature color last night.

Then he remembered the argument.

Well, at least he was right. It was just a leg cramp, from all his sitting and horrendous posture.

He felt bad for a moment, for the way that he acted. But then he didn’t. Donnie’s business was his alone, if he didn’t want to tell Leo, then he wouldn’t. He could manage perfectly fine on his own. Leo didn’t need to prod. Leo shouldn’t have interrogated him. 

Startled by this newfound aggression, Donnie shook his head and left his room. This was a good day, and he intended to keep it that way. No prior argument was going to stop him.

The Soft-shell turtle strode into the common room, relishing in his now pain-free life. He was met with his eldest brother, sitting on the couch with a plate full of eggs, scrolling through a series of Jupiter Jim movies.

“Greetings, Raphala,” Donnie rested his elbows on the back of the couch and peered over his brother's shoulder, “Planning a Jupiter Jim binge?”

Raph hastily swallowed a heaping mouthful before covering his mouth to speak, “Hey, Dee. Not quite, April and Junior are coming over today. We figured it was about time we introduced future boy to JJ. Can’t deprive him of perfection for too long.”

“Ah yes, I see, we must enlighten the poor boy,” Smiling, Donnie slyly rested his face on his palms, “I do hope you intend on starting with Jupiter Jim: Pluto Vacation IV . The best JJ movie.”

Raph scoffed, turning to get a better look at his foolish younger brother, “First of all, you’re way wrong. Jupiter Jim Sails the Seven Galaxies is clearly the superior option.” He returned the sly smile when Donnie scowled, “And even if you weren’t so painfully incorrect, you can't start with the fourth movie in a series, that's sacrilege!”

“Well, not with that attitude, you can’t.” Donnie stood, his stomach calling for his signature flavorless juice, “alas, my dear brother, we shall make Junior decide.” He sighed and left his brother to his dealings.

The other half of the Hamato brothers were hanging out in the kitchen, talking about nothing in particular. When Donnie entered, Mikey didn’t seem to care too much but Leo immediately pointed a watchful eye in his direction.

But Donnie didn’t care. His fearful brother had nothing to worry about. Donnie was perfectly fine. He was still reeling from his medical recovery, evidently, as he effortlessly strode to the fridge, dramatically opening up the large doors.

To his surprise, his stock of flavorless juice was nearly empty. He took his last carton and held it to his chest, longly. “My juice,” he said in a faint voice. “Miguel, we must head to the store today. My life depends on it.”

“Sure thing, Donald.” Mikey ignored Leo’s odd glares. 

With his treat in hand, Donnie retreated to his lab to wait until their friends arrived. When the two human teenagers dropped into their lair, Donnie was the first to know.

Upon their arrival, April gleefully greeted him with a simple high-five. Casey was still trying to figure out how to interact with the younger versions of his previous family, so he was tense and unsure. Donnie watched him with a strange sparkle in his eye. He had yet to have the chance to poke Casey’s brain about future him. He was going to get those lottery numbers one way or another. Unfortunately, the turtle's eagerness often overrode any hospitality rules, and April feared Casey was just uncomfortable or scared around Donnie. In truth, Casey was used to it. Future Donnie wasn’t any less strange.

He followed his friends into the common room, where Leo and Raph awaited their presence with a load of blankets.

“Casey! Just the man I was looking for,” Raph stood, almost accidentally sizing up the 16-year-old. “We’ve got a debate you must settle.”

“Not quite, Raph,” Leo put a hand up to stop him, “First, the introduction.”

Donnie and Casey look confused.

“Today!” He said, dramatically flaring his arms, “We gather to introduce our newest addition to the Hamato family to the glorious joys of Jupiter Jim .”

“Many glorious movies, and yet,” Raph solemnly hid his face, “Donnie and April are still wrong about which movie reigns supreme.”

“Okay, you know what-” April butted in, raising a hand.

“BETWEEN,” Leo cut in, only to be cut off.

“Jupiter Jim: Pluto Vacation IV and Jupiter Jim Sails the Seven Galaxies?” Casey asked. 

The brothers paused. “He knows…” Donnie muttered. 

Casey smiled with the warm light of nostalgia, “They’re the only JJ movies I ever saw, but I was just a kid. They were the only two movies my Sensei managed to save, but when I got a chance to watch them for the first time, our ability to broadcast movies was cut off a year later. I was pretty young.”

Donnie raised a comical brow, “so, you’ve seen them both?” He inquired.

The boy shrugged, “Well, yeah, but I can’t remember them all that well.”

“So, you can say,” Raph continued, “without a doubt, which one is better?”

Casey stared at them blankly. His eyes reflected a memory of family now gone, a similar situation occurring in his childhood. “I’m choosing not to answer that.” Clearly, this conversation had sparked action before.

“Yeah, yeah, our loss.” April finally spoke, “We have to start from the beginning , you weirdos. Jupiter Jim I, that’s what we’re watching today.”

Donnie groaned. A good movie, that couldn’t be argued, but there were better.

A dramatic wail from the kitchen tore their attention away. “Guys!” Mikey whined, coming into the living room, “We’re out of popcorn!”

“Aw, what?” April frowned, “But that's crucial!”

“Fear not!” Donnie called, mocking a line from the aforementioned JJ movies. “We shall journey the harsh roads to the terrifying grocery store and collect the sacred goods, named the popped corn and of course, the juice of no flavor.”

Donnie was really feeling his freedom.

“Are you sure you’ve got it in you, DonTron?” Leo asked.

Donnie smiled, “Why of course, the journey is tolerable.”

To avoid any more protest, Mikey and Donnie quickly departed to the surface. The two snuck around alleyway shadows until they reached their favorite Hidden City entrance. Though not what they were there for, Donnie contemplated going to Hueso’s later on.

The Hidden City was bustling with Yokai. Usually, the noise would become too much for Donnie if they were directly on the roads, but his relief and joy from his recovery kept him in high spirits. Mikey noticed this switch-up, but rather than question it, he embraced his brother's newly-found confidence as they strode through the markets.

Their local grocery store wasn’t super busy, the brothers were in and out in a few short minutes with a large pack of Donnie's signature juice and a hefty collection of popcorn. Despite Mikey’s arguments, Donnie carried both items as they walked home, not wanting to stress out his little brother's fragile arms. His emotional high from his final pain relief had worn off, but he was still enjoying his unusual amount of energy.

Just before they exited the Hidden City, something struck Donnie's arms.

A familiar pain that made the turtle pinch his artificial eyebrows together.

A burning sensation that showered his arms in what felt like microneedles. The persistent, all-encompassing pain that never went away.

In his arms?

No, this can't be happening .

He tried to ignore it, tried to pretend it wasn’t real.

Donnie kept walking, the previously light-weight boxes now feeling like mounds of lead hanging on by a thread. Keep walking. You’re fine , just get over it, Donnie.

But the pain wouldn’t stop. It kept growing the longer his arms were up. He blinked hard, pressing his eyes shut as the pain began to overwhelm him, like fire burning underneath his kin.

“Donnie?” Mikey’s voice made him realize he’d stopped walking.

His arms were shaking, the weakness growing ever closer. He desperately tried to take a step forward but now the boxes felt like chains dragging him down.

When the pain started in his legs, it was gradual. It got worse over time, but now, it felt like all those months of pain progression in his legs hit his arms in one fell swoop. It was agony. His chest began to heave as it kept getting worse. 

And worse.

And worse.

His breath started to hitch.

Move, Donatello! Stop being weak and start walking, there's no time for this-

“Donnie!” Mikey came to his brother and took the boxes away from his arms. The lifted weights alleviated so much more than he could vocalize. The pain didn’t go away but at least the pressure did. His arms immediately dropped to his side.

Even just the weight of his arms was painful.

“Sorry,” he choked out, “Arms got tired.”

“No worries,” his brother's sweet voice eased his anxiety, “you should have told me, I can take it from here.” Donnie tried to protest, not wanting to make Mikey’s arms hurt, but Mikey wasn’t having it.

They continued walking, now in Donnies uncomfortable silence. He held his arms close to his chest, the pain running up his shoulders. It was terrible. He had gotten so used to the pain in his legs, he forgot how bad it actually was. With the pain ravaging a new part of his body, it was difficult to keep his tears from streaming down his face.

This can't be real.

If this is real, then something is wrong with me. Something can’t be wrong with me.

Mikey didn’t ask. He didn’t pester him about what happened. When they returned to the lair, Mikey hauled their goods into their rightful spots, pulling out a few servings of popcorn. Donnie tried to open the microwave, but his arms struggled to muster the strength to unclick the small door. That movement, so small and futile, tore open a gate that allowed a new title wave of emotions to drown his consciousness. 

He felt weak.

Not like before. He knew he wasn’t as strong as his brothers, but he could still fight. He still had muscle, he still sparred and sometimes won, he could still be a hero, even in a smaller strength limit.

But now, he felt utterly broken. With arms that couldn’t open the simplest of interlock systems and legs that broke beneath him, what else was he supposed to think?

What is wrong with you? He thought when tears began to prick at the back of his eyes. Control yourself, they can’t know something is wrong .

They all seemed so happy, so content, so healthy. Donnie wasn’t going to ruin that. He had already ruined his trip back. He was supposed to be Mikey's arms while he healed, but now, Mikey was his? That can’t happen. Donnie wouldn’t let that happen.

The microwave beeped, grounding Donnie from his spiraling fears. Without a word, Donnie followed Mikey into the living room once he was satisfied with the popcorn-to-salt-to-butter ratio. When Mikey jumped over the back of the couch to join his brothers, Donnie stopped short. He couldn’t do it.

This was too much.

His arms were burning, their prickling pain eating away at his energy, making him feel nauseated and sick. “I think I’m going to sit this one out.” He managed to croak before racing off to his room.

“What?” Leo responded first, surprised. The others barely got a chance to see their purple-clad turtle before he was gone.

Once Donnie was free from all eyes, he ripped off his elbow guards and gloves. Staring at his arms, he searched for any sign of harm. Any sign of disease, injury, something curable. But his skin was unchanged. Nothing looked off. He was still perfectly green and scaly.

Tears began to well in his eyes.

Is this what Mikey felt?

Don’t be ridiculous, Mikey has it far worse. Get over yourself.

This agonizing voice was not welcome, and yet, it was his voice. His own message, his own struggle. In an attempt to run from the pain, Donnie climbed into his bed, shut off all of the lights, and pressed his eyes shut.

Sleep, idiot, sleep!

Against his best efforts, the burning in his arms didn’t subside, the somewhat familiar yet foreign pain keeping him far too awake for his liking. When he couldn’t stop the tears from falling, he smothered his face in his blankets.

The relief only came when he cried himself to sleep. But even then, the pain ensured he was crying without tears before letting him go. He begged silently for it to stop, but his hopes were rapidly dying. 

_______________

The family looked back towards Donnie's lab, confused and sad.

“Did something happen on your walk?” Raph turned to Mikey, who looked the most hurt. “He was so happy earlier.”

“The best he’s been in a long time,” April muttered.

“Not really,” Mikey fell back onto the couch, sounding defeated. “I mean, he was carrying the boxes just fine up until the end, when he got tired. I figured he just got overstimulated since he stopped talking after that.” He shook his head, “he didn’t even sign.”

Casey looked away in thought. This behavior… maybe he was imagining it, but this sounded an awful lot like how his Sensei described some of future Donnie’s struggles when they first started. They were never vocal about what was wrong with Casey’s uncle, but there were just some days where he didn’t show his face, where he would bail on missions, where he just… didn’t have energy. For anything. He wouldn’t move, Mikey or Leo would bring his meals, returning later for the dishes. All of his subordinates were left to their own devices. In the case of emergencies, Donnie communicated only audibly, still unable to show himself.

Casey always wondered but never got his answer. Even still, he observed the little things his Sensei did to relieve his brother's stress. But wasn’t all that due to injuries his Uncle Tello sustained from the invasion? 

Chapter Text

Donnie could say for sure that the ceiling wasn’t getting any more entertaining. He didn’t know what time it was, at some point in the late morning, but he’d been awake for a while now. After what happened last night, he didn’t have the energy to be in front of others.

His arms felt weak, the same way his legs would after a bad day. What kept him in his bed, however, was the progressively returning pain in his legs. An unwelcome guest, but Donnie couldn't bring himself to fight it.

The faint throbbing consumed his muscles, a dull reminder of the joy he held yesterday. How foolish of him. He let his heart override his better judgment. Healing doesn’t just happen ; he couldn’t have been rid of this agony so quickly. It should have taken a few days of slow stress and pain relief to even suggest the idea of proper healing. Not one day of despair followed by another of bliss. That’s not how it worked. Donnie should have known that.

His face pinched for a moment as another sharp pain attacked his ankle. It was a repeated pattern that woke him up that morning. A pain in his right ankle that felt like someone had lodged a dull knife deep within his bone and was carelessly wiggling it free. The pain went away almost as quickly as it had appeared. That was until the very same pain occurred in his opposite hip. It was a bit sharper, a bit more painful. But it went away, leaving that dull, pulsating pain that gripped the rest of him.

He heard someone approach his door. In the air of silence, Donnie knew they were hesitating. Please, let me be , he pleaded. He didn’t know if he could manage getting out of bed. He didn’t want his family to see him stuck in bed, either. That wouldn’t look good.

They knocked. 

Donnie groaned, huffing out a breath. Ignoring his muscles’ protest, he pushed his arms underneath him and sat up. He started to regret the response system he designed for his door, as the panel slid open, as protocol, a few seconds after a knock.

Mikey stood, a little confused. When he didn’t see his brother immediately, he scanned the dark room. Once his eyes landed on Donnie, he smiled. A smile that carried sympathy, which Donnie hated.

Donnie swung his legs over the side of his bed, once again, ignoring his leg’s signals of distress. He waited a moment, cringing at the wash of pain, before standing.

“Hey, Dee,” Mikey said in a low voice, “I brought you some juice. I thought you might need something in your system.” Though Mikey didn’t say it, Donnie could almost hear the rest of his thoughts, since you’ve been locked in your room for half of the day .

Donnie met his little brother across the room, pressure building up behind his knees and hips, and slowly took the small juice box he offered. Memories of his failures yesterday appeared in his mind. Goodie, now my favorite treat is spoiled by this… inconvenience.

“Thank you, Michael.” He turned away. Donnie thought about going to his desk to appear more natural, but instinctively, his legs dragged him back to the one spot where he felt the smallest amount of relief—his bed.

When he didn’t hear the other turtle leave, he looked back. Mikey was standing in the room, a bit awkwardly, twiddling his thumbs.

The two looked at each other for a long second before Mikey spoke. “Did I do something wrong?”

Donnie was taken aback. “No? What on earth gave you that idea?”

His brother looked at the floor. “You were so happy yesterday, but after we went to the store,” His voice trailed off, “you were so upset.”

Now he had to deal with feelings? Today was just not his day. Donnie closed his eyes and turned around, fighting his body. When he reached his brother, he rested a gentle hand on his shoulder. “That had nothing to do with you, Mikey. I promise.”

He perked up, just a hint. “Oh, thank goodness, I thought I had said something without thinking.” A smile returned to his lips, but this time, not one of pity. “Is everything okay, then? We’re a little worried.”

Danger zone! Abort!

“Yes, yes, I’m fine.” He had to think up an excuse quickly, “I just… I just saw something while we were out, and it caused some anxiety. Got a little overstimulated, you know how it is.” He relaxed his voice.

“Oh, no!” There was that pity again, “Did you want to talk about it?”

No! Wrong direction!

“No need! I have already logically analyzed what I saw and deduced that I was simply imagining it. I’m over it now.”

Dr. Feelings narrowed his eyes. “You sure?” Donnie was losing his leverage, suspicions dripping into Mikey’s mind.

“Confident.” Donnie started walking back to his desk . “Mikey, I promise, if there were something wrong, I’d bring it up.”

The pain that shot through his chest was not from his muscle pain, but rather that he was using his brother's trusting nature against him. He felt bad. “Alright,” he sighed. “We’re gonna watch some Lou Jitsu movies tonight, if you want to join,” Mikey added as he began to leave.

“I’ll think about it,” Donnie replied quietly. He had already made his decision.

Once his brother had left, the Soft-shell turtle quickly adjusted his trajectory and climbed back into bed. His hips were aching, and he desperately needed some relief. As he expected, the second he lay down, the pain got worse before it got better.

As he replayed the interaction in his head, Donnie brought a pillow to his face and groaned into it. Why couldn’t he just be honest? Every logical part of him was screaming for him to tell his family, to get help, to do something .

Every illogical part of him was insisting it would go away on its own, even though it was proving to do the exact opposite. Yesterday had been a good day, while it lasted, no one's problems weighed down on their shoulders. Leo was looking spectacularly healthy, Raph didn’t struggle with his vision, and even Mikey was able to carry a heavy load for an extended time. If Donnie had told them about his pain, arms or not, he would have ruined everything. The day would have been spoiled by the pain in his arms. All they do is worry, worry, worry. If Donnie was going to do anything, it was to ensure that his brothers relaxed .

He had to compromise, or else these two parts of him were going to wage war on one another, overwhelming him with thoughts and decisions. He would tell his family about his pain once Leo had fully healed.

That’s if the pain was even there by that time.

This was a good spot to be. Donnie was in pain, but it’s not like he couldn’t function. As much as it hurt him, Donnie could still walk and help his brothers. It hadn’t stopped him from anything; it just made things a bit uncomfortable. He had certainly been more uncomfortable before, so he could suck it up for a while longer. For now, he’d have to keep up this facade, and all would be well. He’d direct his energy to restoring the health of his family and all of his tech.

He looked at his workstation from up on his bed. His tech would have to wait; his lab would be fine with his absence for a day. He was tired from yesterday's ordeal. He’d be back to it tomorrow, surely.

__________________

Mikey meandered back to the living room, where Raph, Leo, and Casey, who had spent the night over, were waiting for him with expectant eyes.

“He was still in bed, oddly.” Mikey sighed, defeated. “He said he thought he saw something yesterday, and it freaked him out. But I guess he’s fine now…”

“He’s seein’ things?” The eldest said, “Raph doesn’t remember him saying anything like that before.”

“He hasn’t,” Leo frowned, “was he seeing, like, Kraang , things?” He shuddered.

Casey tensed behind them.

Mikey shrugged, “He didn’t say. Just said that he rationalized it, or something.” He shook his head, “Even still, he was moving so slowly.” He muttered, barely audible to his brothers.

This snagged Casey's attention, drawing his eyes to the hallway that led to Donnie’s room. He closed his eyes slightly in thought, calling his memories from his old life back.

“Sensei?” Little Casey tugged on the large turtle's pant pocket.

The resistance leader turned around and knelt to meet the young child. “What’s up, CJ?”

“Is Uncle Tello okay?” Casey clasped his hands together and held them by his chest, just a bit cold. The temperature had dropped that day, conveniently as the hideout heaters had shut down.

The genius inventor was rushing to repair their source of heat, despite his aching body. Casey had watched him early that morning, while he was eating breakfast. He had seen his uncle fight many times before, with swift, calculated movements, never backing down from anything. So now, seeing him hunched over with his bō to support his weight, dragging himself across the base to get the materials he needed, was jarring.

Leonardo’s face melted, “Yeah, he’s okay.” He scooped the little boy into his arms and stood, “You know how, after a long, hard day of training, your muscles get really tired?”

Casey nodded, snuggling up to his sensei.

“Uncle Tello was injured a long time ago, and he deals with that icky feeling a bit more than we do.” Leo grabbed his cape from behind him and wrapped it around Casey’s frail body, “and when it’s cold, it gets a little worse. So, like the old man he is, he has to move a bit slower to ease that yucky pain.”

Casey pouted, not wanting his family to be hurting, “Is he gonna feel better?”

Leo smiled, “He sure will. Once that big brain of his restores the heat, he’ll be back to normal. That and a hot bath, of course.” He started tickling the child's chest, nuzzling his nose into Casey's hair. “You’re going to get one of those, too.”

Casey started laughing, weakly fighting against his Sensei.

It took his uncle three days to restore that heater. Each day, he got slower and weaker. It wasn’t the last time the heat broke, and every time, Donnie got weaker.

Not wanting to scare the new turtles, he desperately tried to stop the memory of the final heat-outage. His uncle had died a couple of years before Casey was sent back in time, and shortly after, the heat broke down. It was never fixed. Leo had desperately tried, but every time he assigned that task, he’d break down. It was difficult to watch, stinging Casey’s heart as tears would push behind his eyes.

Casey couldn’t shake the feeling that whatever was happening to Donnie now mirrored his Uncle. But that didn’t make sense; his Sensei had said it was due to an injury that happened later on in life. Why would his Sensei lie about that?

Either way, Donnie was in pain. If it was the same pain or a new pain, he had an idea of how to help. Of course, he’d have to help discreetly; he knew how secretive his uncle wanted to be.

Casey’s response went unnoticed as the brothers kept talking. He opened up his phone and started searching. He’d have to hit a few stores before returning to the lair tomorrow.

Chapter Text

Sometimes, Donnie wished his lab wasn’t so sterile. The harsh metals that surrounded his work made the air crisper than his muscles would have preferred. During his sleepless night, he started thinking about any patterns he could pick up with what made him worse. The good and bad days were still annoyingly unpredictable, but now he saw some symptom triggers. Mornings had a higher chance of producing stronger symptoms, his weakness at its highest just after he’d woken up. Not sleeping also made things worse, which felt like a punch in the face, being a raging insomniac. The cold also made it worse. The chilly air tensed his muscles more and made them feel like they were at risk of snapping if he moved too fast. As he worked, moving from screen to screen, to work station to work station, he slowly pushed his chair around, trying to ease the pain the best he could. His lower efficiency was driving him crazy, but at least he wasn’t in as much pain.

He kept his lab doors open, letting the warmer air of the lab circulate through and mix with the colder air. From the hallway, he heard his little brother return home with Casey in tow. April had helped sort out Casey’s new life in the most legal way possible, but obviously, there were some complications. The teenager would simply be relying on a lot of fake IDs for the rest of his life, but at least he kind of existed in the eyes of the law.

Just outside of Donnie's lab, Leo went to meet the two. 

“Whatcha got there?” Leo asked after he greeted them. Donnie, being the nosy turtle he is, peeked over his shoulder to see what piqued interest.

“Just something Donnie asked me to get him,” Casey said calmly. 

Now Donnie stood, confused. He didn't ask Junior to get him anything. He slowly made his way to the door, eventually catching sight of the purple bag in Casey’s hand.

When he peeked his head out, Leo looked at him curiously. “CJ, I-”

Casey shoved the bag in his direction, “It's some of those special connector thingies and special fabric you were looking for. I couldn't find that tool you asked for, though. Sorry.”

Donnie hesitantly took the bag, about to dispute, but he saw a look in Casey’s eyes that said Just take it, roll with me here . So he did. “Too bad. I'll just order it online.” He added, hoping his acting skills had improved over the years. “Appreciate it, CJ.”

“No problem.” He smiled. 

Donnie cleared his throat, “Gentlemen,” he said before retreating to his lab. Once the three had removed themselves from the premises, Donnie looked inside the bag. Reaching in, his hand was met with a soft, plush fabric. Confused, he set the bag down and pulled out the mystery object.

Unfolded before him appeared to be a blanket, the fabric fuzzy and absolutely delightful to the touch. But the fabric had scored lines that felt like there was wiring running beneath it. The bottom corner of the blanket had a button and a cord that stemmed from the bag. When Donnie yanked it free, a notecard fell out with it. He shoved the fabric into his arms and picked up the note, scanning over the words.

Hi, Donnie :)

I’m not really sure what’s going on with you right now, but maybe this will help! It’s a heated blanket! It really helps with muscle pain. But be careful, the higher temps can be a bit stressful on your skin, so be sure to have a barrier between the blanket and you if you intend on keeping it on at super high temperatures for long. My Uncle Tello ended up getting some marks on his skin from prolonged use of heat. 

- Casey Jr

P.S. I’m sure you could engineer something even cooler, but I thought this would be a good start ~

Donnie smiled a little. Then his face fell flat. How did he know what was going on? Surely, future Donnie didn’t struggle with this; that’d be ridiculous. Leo probably told him about that “leg cramp”. That had to be it. 

Because if future Donatello had this problem, that meant it was permanent. And that was a truth Donnie was going to do everything in his power to not recognize. He was fine. He was going to be fine. This was all temporary. There was nothing wrong with him.

All of Donnie’s outlets were occupied by something, so he decided he’d hold off on testing his new tech until later that night. 

_____________

Casey had been at their hideout for a while, now standing in the kitchen moments after Mikey left. He was in front of the fridge, door open, admiring the cold air. Technology was so fascinating after living in an apocalypse.

Out of nowhere, he felt a blanket wrap around his face as he was dragged backwards, “Ack-!” He yelped, about ready to fight back, before he heard a sinister giggle that was sourced from a particular Red-eared slider. A much taller turtle lifted Casey onto his shoulder, grumbling about the point of this whole operation.

When he was finally permitted his vision, after being brought across their home, he was sitting in Leo’s room, lights off, with a bright flashlight in his face. He flinched back, eyes protesting.

“Raph, you’re excused.” Leo waved his older brother away as he glared at Casey.

Raph rolled his eyes and stepped out of the room.

“What is this-” Casey started.

“What do you know?” Leo shined the flashlight back into his face. Memories of the first day they met flashed in his mind.

“What do I know?”

“What do you know?” Leo brought the light down slightly so that Casey’s eyes didn’t burn.

“What are you talking about?”

Leo took a deep breath, “I think there’s something wrong with Donnie, and I’ve been watching him pretty closely for a bit now, but can not get a good answer. He’s distant, ignoring us, super inconsistent, I didn’t get it.” Casey was about to speak when Leo pressed on, “I thought I’d be doomed, you know? But then I remembered, you lived with future us!”

A moment a silence.

“Yes, that has been established.” Casey looked confused. 

Leo hummed, dramatically nodding, “Which means you know things about future us. Future Donnie included.”

Casey chuckled, “I mean, does anyone really know Donnie?”

Leo narrowed his eyes.

CJ laughed awkwardly before giving in, “I don’t think there's anything wrong with him, I think he’s just tired.”

“Don’t lie to me,” Leo said, lowering his voice until it was uncomfortably raspy, “I know my twin. There’s something wrong with him. I think you know what.”

“I really don’t-”

“What do you know?” He demanded, standing from his wheelchair, leaning all of his weight on the armrest, holding the flashlight directly in his eyes. “What did you bring him?”

“I brought him stuff for his tech, I told you that.”

Leo shook his head, not buying it. “That may have worked on Mikey, but not on me. I’m his twin, I notice everything. Donnie looked too confused when he found us, not only that, but he always orders stuff online.” He put a finger up, pointing to Casey, “and I’d like to think you’d never refer to something as a ‘connector thingy’ because I would call it a ‘connector thingy’ and I know you worked with Donnie when you were growing up. Therefore, you didn’t know what to lie about having in there, so you improvised.” The two stared at each other, Casey impressed and Leo determined. “So, I’ll ask again, what do you know ?”

“Nothing applicable!” Casey huffed, “I mean, my Uncle Tello sustained an injury when he was…” He trailed off, thinking, “25? I think? My Sensei told me that during a battle, Donnie got trapped under falling debris and had his leg crushed. He recovered, but dealt with some problems after it. Never fully healed, you know? But that didn’t happen to Donnie! Exhaustion is stressful, and I know he doesn’t sleep well, so… I brought him a blanket that I thought would help him sleep.” Casey felt a little bad about lying to his Sensei, but facing Donnie’s wrath had a way of overriding other fears.

Leo sighed, falling back into his chair. He stopped for a moment before rolling over to a light switch. The room returned to light, blinding Casey again.

“There’s got to be more!” Leo crossed his arms once he was in front of Casey. “There is something so clearly wrong with him!”

Fears or not, Casey wasn’t denying the idea that Donnie was suffering. He didn’t like thinking that his Sensei had lied to him about his uncle, but knowing his uncle, he wouldn't be surprised. “What’s tipping you off about Donnie?” Casey might as well compare the Donnies, in case there really was something wrong.

Leo sucked on his teeth a moment. “I know he’s an insomniac or whatever, but he just looks so much worse than usual. He’s not acting the same, he doesn’t joke or criticize the same, and doesn’t have the energy to do anything . He’s slow-moving, too. He’s away in his room more often, not even his lab, Casey, his room!”

These behaviors weren’t exactly the same as what Casey was familiar with, but he could see how they were the start. “Look,” Casey sighed, “I never knew of anything being wrong with Donnie when he was alive. My Sensei and the other turtles never really talked about his health, probably at his order. I can’t remember a whole lot about my Uncle Tello, he was more reserved than the others, but I’ll wrack my brain for what I can and if I can remember anything, I’ll let you know.”

Leo seemed satisfied enough with that answer. Casey did see a bit of pain in his eyes after he slipped up. ‘When he was alive . ’ It was instinct to respond like that.

“Am I free to go, or…” Casey muttered when he watched Leo drown in his thoughts for another minute.

“Oh! Yeah, sorry, go ahead.”

When CJ slipped out of Leo’s room, he felt like he was stuck between a rock and a hard place. Something had been wrong with Donnie in the future, and now something was wrong with present Donnie. Casey wanted to help, to some capacity, at least, but if his Sensei had lied to him, then he really had no idea how to help.

When he sat down on the couch, mindlessly listening to Splinter’s rants, he dug through his memories, praying for something to come to him. But nothing did. 

___________

Night had fallen over New York, their home now quiet. Donnie found himself in bed, ready for some late-night reading. His aching legs became too much for his lab. Just before he got comfortable, he remembered the blanket. He crawled out of bed and grabbed the blanket from its bag. He located the nearest outlet, plugged in the long chord, and hit the button in the corner a few times, setting it to the second temperature. Then, he got comfortable again, shimmying into his mountain of blankets and pillows. When the heat started to come through the fabric, a wash of relief went over him. Though his legs still ached, the heat fended off the intense pain like a barrier.

It was wonderful. It was the most physically relaxed Donnie had felt since the day the Kraang arrived.

He leaned into the heat, comfort consuming him. He stayed like that, reading in peace, not once thinking about the pain, for nearly two hours.

Just a few minutes before midnight, his door slid open. He hadn’t even heard the knock. Standing there, shaking and terrified, was Leo, hand up by the door. His eyes were shot, tears running down his face, and a blanket loosely hung over his shoulders.

Donnie closed his book quickly. “Leo? You shouldn’t be walking on your own. Where’s your wheelchair?” This nightmare must have been bad.

Hearing his voice, Leo weakly and slowly limped to the bed, head down with poorly hidden sniffles. As Donnie shifted his blanket to the side, Leo quickly fell into the bed next to Donnie without a word.

“Leo, are you okay?” His twin's arms were shaking. Donnie didn’t know what to do. Was this a no-touch or a for-the-love-of-god hug me type of situation?

Leo broke down into a sob, grabbing onto Donnie once his book was put aside. It was the latter option. “Eugh, boy, okay,” he whispered, trying to figure out what to do. He shuffled down to be parallel with his twin. 

Donnie let Leo draw himself closer, pressing his forehead into Donnie’s plastron. Donnie rested a hand against the back of his head and let his brother cry. Donnie knew full well that sometimes all Leo needed was to exist in his pain, not talk, not answer, just be . It was still painful for Donnie, watching his brother fall apart like this. They stayed like that for a long moment, until Leo was out of tears and all his crying was dry, scratchy breaths. “I thought you were dead,” Leo muttered in the quietest voice he could muster, his throat sore. “I watched you die.” His voice hitched.

“I’m here, Leo. I’m safe.” He whispered in response. “Do you want to talk about it?” Feelings were not his forte, but he had to help his brother somehow. If talking about the gross concept of emotions was what he needed, then so be it.

Leo groaned as he slightly pushed away, just enough to look at Donnie. “I don’t know,” he sniffed, “I don’t know if I dreamt of the post-Kraang apocalypse or something else, but…” More tears started shining in Leo’s eyes, “You were hurt and we were all alone, fighting something , and I heard you scream. Oh god-” he stopped, rubbing at his eyes in a desperate attempt to stop crying. His breathing was heavy and quick. “You fell or tripped or your legs gave in.” Oh god, indeed. “But you couldn’t move! I couldn’t get to you, and you were killed. Right in front of me!” Leo gave up on stopping the tears.

Donnie winced, looking away for a second. These were the exact fears he was trying to avoid, not cause. He hugged Leo close, “I’m sorry, Leo. I’m sorry you had to see that.”

“I’m scared, Dee,” Leo admitted in a broken voice. “I’m so scared.”

“I know,” Donnie comforted, his heart aching. “It was just a dream, I’m right here.”

“I know,” Leo sniffed, “but I’m still scared.” His tears let up slightly, “I’m scared that something is wrong with you and you aren’t saying what, and that my dream could come true.”

Galileo, damn it all . Now tears were starting up behind Donnie’s eyes. What was he supposed to do? Feed into those fears by admitting something was wrong? Lie and keep Leo where it hurts less, but hurt him more? There was no way out of this. He had to keep Leo happy, had to keep his family happy. Leo needed to recover, and stressing him out over his brother's health was not going to achieve that.

“I’m sorry,” He didn’t know what else to say. “I’m okay, Leo, that’s never going to happen.”

Leo hugged his brother again, keeping him close. Donnie pulled the heated blanket over their shoulders, and instantly, Leo seemed to relax, surprised by the heat. 

“I’m perfectly fine, I promise.” Donnie managed to say, that logical part of his brain screaming at him to be honest, to stop lying to Leo and himself.

Donnie was going to be fine, he assured himself over and over again. This pain would fade with time, and Leo would never have to stress over it again. Donnie refused to be the source of more nightmares.

Chapter Text

Leo was being extra clingy the following day. He never went into full detail about what he saw in that nightmare, but Donnie knew it was worse than he thought. Leo looked terrified at every moment Donnie wasn’t in his line of sight. He outright refused to do his physical therapy unless his twin was right there next to him. Something about seeing Leo this way was debilitating. Seeing this terrifying, unwavering fear that shadowed Leo’s eyes, making him distant and afraid,  when Donnie was so used to his stoic, strong, and resilient Leo, was beyond harrowing. Donnie knew Leo had his problems, but never saw them present themselves so strongly.

This response nearly shoved any of Donnie’s plans to open up about his pain far away into a corner in his mind, sirens going off in his head. If Leo, or any of his brothers, knew there was a slight chance of weakness in Donnie, they’d lose their minds. How bad would Leo’s nightmares be if he knew about the pain? It’s not like Donnie couldn’t fight the weakness, but would his family believe that? Would they take that kind of answer?

The twins were situated on the living room couch, Donnie scrolling through his t-phone, mindlessly lost in his thoughts, and Leo next to him, arms tightly wrapped around his waist, nearly asleep. Raph was going on about getting back into training, at least slowly. Though from a negative source, Leo’s ability to walk on his own last night meant he was healing quicker than they thought. His walking wasn’t stable, but he proved he could take his body weight again, as long as he went slowly. Leo would not be training again, but it meant they could start developing plans for it.

“Raph thinks you need to be moving more,” Raph added, directed towards Donnie.

Donnie looked up from his phone, slightly frowning. “What encouraged that outrageous thought?”

Raph shrugged, “That’s probably why you’ve been so off recently.”

Donnie’s fake brows pinched together, “Off?” Was he really that bad at hiding his pain?

“We can all tell you aren’t sleeping very well, worse than usual.” Oh. Well, that’s good . If Raph was just suspicious about sleep, he was still safe. “That’s probably because you’re not exercising enough anymore, since we’ve basically halted all of our movement.”

Donnie wished he could say that wasn’t how it worked, but he’d listened to enough of Leo’s medical rants to know that Raph was correct. He knew far more about medicine than he thought, being the sole receiver of Leo’s medical practice. Be it running the stupid, silly little situations for him to practice injury management, or just listening to him talk for hours about something he learned to ensure he understood it. It was a good way to keep Donnie grounded while he worked. He’d never admit that, though.

He figured Leo would go out of his way to confirm Raph’s thoughts, but when he looked down at his twin, his eyes were sealed shut, his breathing steady. He was fast asleep.

“Maybe we run to Hueso’s? Get some dinner and cheer Leo up with his favorite pizza?” Raph offered, “It’ll be nice to get some air, even if it is the Hidden City air.”

Donnie liked the idea; pizza did sound very good at that moment. However, there was a bit of a hang-up: “I’ve got a bit of a magnet keeping me here, I fear.”

Mikey came up behind them and peered at his older brothers. “If he’s asleep now, you might be able to slip away unnoticed. We’ll be back before he knows it.”

Something irked Donnie deep in his chest. Something about leaving his horrendously traumatized twin whilst in the middle of a breakdown didn’t sound so great. If he woke up before they returned, Leo would lose it. He’d crumble under the fears Donnie was relentlessly trying to prevent. Donnie wasn’t supposed to cause these problems; he was supposed to fix them.

Donnie made an unsure noise, stuck between decisions. He wasn’t feeling particularly weak that day, his pain was moderate, so he could likely make the tip without many repercussions, but… his brother. That’s not something he wanted to risk.

Their father slowly walked into the room, overhearing the conversation. “Purple, I agree with your brother. You’ve been locked up in your lab far too much recently; it’s not good for you.”

Donnie’s face fell, wanting to make his father happy. “But, Leo…”

“I’ll stay with him while you boys are gone. If he wakes up, I’ll be there for him.” Splinter rested a thin hand on Donnie’s shoulder. He had a warm smile on his face that made it difficult to say no. Splinter was his dad, and he so desperately wanted to make him proud.

Giving in, he sighed. “Okay.”

Leo’s arms had relaxed around him in his slumber, so, as gently as he could, Donnie slid out from his grasp. Splinter quickly replaced him before Leo began to stir.

Donnie’s anxiety for his brother almost distracted him from the sudden pain in his head. Almost.

It was brief, gone within the minute, but when he stood, the onset headache threw him for a loop. It made him pause, but once it dissipated, he shook his head and moved on. Now was not the time to worry about his pain.

The purple turtle noticed himself biting slightly at his nails, a habit that died a long time ago, when he was a tot. Quickly, he put his hand down. What was he so anxious for? He was usually so calm, even in times of worry.

Mikey clapped softly, excited to get out of the house again.

Vamanos, Hermanos! He heard Leo’s voice ring in his head. He took his bō from his waistband and extended it out, leaning his weight onto it. “Let’s get a move on before Leo wakes up.”

_________________

The Hidden City had its usual busy sounds, the yokai population bright with diversity. Raph had insisted on taking a different entrance to the city, wanting more time to be out and about, entirely ignoring Donnie’s pleas for a shorter trip. How was it, for once in his life, that Donnie was more anxious about this than his brothers?

Raph and his brothers were posted atop an old, tall building, looking over the city. “Man, Raph missed this!” The Snapping turtle had a hand over his brow, dramatically observing his surroundings. He took a deep breath, relishing in the clear air.

Donnie was slouched over, leaning on his staff, silently begging for freedom. Turns out, his lower-rate pain quickly accelerated after jumping over rooftops for a few minutes. He could still walk, but he didn’t want to be.

Raph started talking with Mikey, their voices tuned out as a prickling pain started in Donnie’s leg. His knee buckled beneath him, the pain becoming too much to apply pressure to. Great, can’t even stand in peace. He closed his eyes, pressing his forehead into the cold titanium of his weapon, face twisting from the burn as he lifted his leg. After a moment, he approached his brothers, who were standing by the building’s edge, pointing out something of interest that Donnie didn’t care to check. Curious if it would help, Donnie squatted down onto his opposite knee, feeling the stretch in his thigh and a good kind of pressure build up behind his burning knee. To his surprise, the movement seemed to ease some of the pain. He sat there for a moment, taking a deep breath to relax.

“Well, we should get going. Raph doesn’t want to keep Donnie waiting.” The big turtle smiled, looking down at his younger brother.

Great timing, as usual.

Donnie stood, thankful that the pain was held off, even just briefly. The three brothers scanned for a way down. Mikey and Donnie looked at the cables that connected the buildings, decorated with pennants and other artworks, carefully plotting a safe route down without tearing up the city’s beauty. Raph just decided to scale down the wall, his mass being far too much for any fancy work.

Just as Donnie and Mikey began their descent, a cold flash consumed his legs, swiftly followed by an aggressive burning sensation that began lacing through the back of Donnie's thighs and knees. For just a moment, it felt like the normal pains, save the cold wash, but within seconds, the agonizing sting got worse. His legs quickly began to feel as though he was being burned alive while a child tore his muscles apart like string cheese, the nerve endings snapping away from one another. Within seconds, the harsh pain enveloped his whole leg, ripping away any control he had. At the second contact of a city cable, his legs collapsed from under him. He slipped from his support and began falling. “Mikey-!” He called for help, shocked by the sudden shift.

Raph watched in shock for just longer than a second before he leapt from his spot on the run-down brick wall. He reached his arms out far, trying to catch his fragile brother in his arms. Mikey, alarmed, shot out his kusari-fundo in case Raph didn’t move fast enough. Both attempts lead to Donnie having a chain wrapped around his waist and being barreled into by his brother. The impact from Raph yanked Mikey's weapons from his hands, but the youngest turtle let go just in time to not be dragged along with them.

Raph hit the ground and slid to a dramatic stop, a few feet away from Run of the Mill Pizza.

“Donnie, you good?” Raph asked.

Donnie quickly wiggled out of Raph's safe grasp, that shocking and quick pain exploding in his head for just a few seconds, putting himself on the ground with as much support as convincingly possible. Donnie grabbed his staff far too quickly. Raph narrowed his eyes for just a second.

        Mikey dropped down next to them shortly after. Donnie pretended to dust himself off. “Just fine, Raphala. I apologize for that mishap. I was a bit distracted and lost my balance.”

The burn in his legs had not gone away, making all of his weight feel like heaps of obsidian weighing down on two frail twigs. Something that would collapse within minutes if not given the proper support.

“Sure, I getcha. You haven’t been out in a while.” Raph smiled, sending away his hint of concern.

Oh, how oblivious he was.

“No time for dwelling, it’s pizza time!” Mikey hollered, slapping a hand on Donnie’s back. He stumbled forward, wincing as another sharp pain erupted through his leg, but neither brother noticed.

Hueso’s shop was quiet, a few yokai groups eating with peaceful conversations.

“Welcome to Run of the Mill- oh!” Hueso immediately dropped his customer service act and went to meet his somehow-adopted nephews. “I see you’re missing a Pepino  today, no?”

“Yeah, he’s not feeling too well right now, so we’ve come to get pizza. We needed to stretch our legs and make him feel better, of course.” Mikey ran to the boneman for his typical side-hug, to which he obliged as if it was second nature. “Need our order again?”

“I fear I have them committed to memory.” Hueso gave Mikey a pat on the head. “I’ll get those going for you all. I’ll be back shortly.”

Mikey and Raph continued light conversation as they waited, attempting to get Donnie involved, but he was too lost in his own pain. The new sensation from earlier had dissipated, now a numbing dance of fuzzy pins and needles taking its place. He felt so distant from himself and his surroundings. Not in the same way he'd get when overstimulated, when he forcefully sent away anything he registered, panic and wild discomfort making him dizzy and headachey. This time, it was like nothing dared grasp for Donnie's thoughts, a deep fog coating his brain, fending off any signal of interest, like there was nothing left for him to think. He couldn't focus, couldn't think, almost like he was watching himself in third person, except he was rapidly losing his vision. He so desperately wanted to sit down, to sink into his heated blanket, remove himself from the world, and sleep for hours.

“Earth to DonTron?” Mikey waved his hand in front of Donnie's face slowly, not wanting to shock him. “Our pizza is coming.”

Donnie blinked away the fog that swamped his head and looked up to see Hueso carrying a few boxes of individually sized pizzas. “Here you are, boys.” When Raph tried to pay him, Hueso waved him off. “On the house today, just do me a favor and send Leo my regards.” Once Hueso had given the pizzas to Raph, Mikey wrapped his arms around him

“Thanks, Tío , we'll come visit again soon!”

“You better, your absence is hurting my business. But recover well, you all deserve it.” Something in his words struck Donnie's heart. Recover well . Would he also be letting Hueso down? He was also hoping for healthy Hamatos, and while the other three were getting there, now Donnie wasn't-

Don't be ridiculous, Donatello. You're getting ahead of yourself.  

He huffed, surprised at how quickly he could shut down his classic Donnie overthink.

They left the pizza parlor and started back the way they came, Raph insisting on more steps. Donnie groaned, but complied. He was already making them suspicious. It wouldn't be long until they were home, and he could free himself from the pain of walking.

Just then, a ping went off from Donnie's arm band. He dragged his tired eyes down, clicking on the message notification from Splinter.

“You need to get home ASAP. Leo woke up, he's freaking out.”

Ignoring all the pain he had previously, Donnie quickly ran to meet up with his brothers. “No time for extra steps, Raph, we need to go. Now .” He showed them the message, and quickly, all three turned around and started heading towards a closer exit.

They moved with excessive haste, the steps and movement burning fire in Donnie's legs. He ached, burned, and stung, as if hot metal was scorching his skin, but he didn’t stop. He knew it was a bad idea to leave; he knew it would backfire. They never should have left Leo, Donnie never should have left Leo. Why was every part of him denying his logic and critical thinking? He was supposed to be smart! Now he was going around, lying and making poor decisions. Get yourself together, Donald.

His breath began to heave, and they got closer to home, whines occasionally escaping his throat. The pain was unbearable, rising up through his arms and stabbing into his head, mimicking the headache from earlier. He desperately needed to stop moving, but his brother desperately needed him more. He didn't know if Mikey or Raph noticed or heard him, but if they did, he could always make an excuse. Leo wasn't in a state to refute his lies, and the other two could be a tad too trusting.

A tad too trusting? You're really using their love against them?

Stop it! Stop telling me that! Honesty is only going to hurt them more! I don't want them to worry, and I don't want to be weak.

Weak? 

There they were, the rational and irrational thoughts waging war against one another. Now was not the time.

When they returned to the sewers, Donnie was the first to enter their home. He discarded his bō at the door and ran to the living room. Before he got there, he could hear the heavy breaths of his brother, shaking and tearful. As soon as Leo was in sight, Donnie ran to his side. Leo was in shambles, curled up in a ball, mumbling words to himself that Donnie couldn’t decipher. He had his hands clasped over his ears, eyes slammed shut.

“Leo!” Donnie put his hands on his twin's shoulders. “Leo, I'm right here.” He lowered his voice. Noise always made his meltdowns worse; being quiet should help Leo, too.

Leo's breathing halted as his eyes finally opened. When he saw his twin, more heavy tears immediately began to form as he hugged Donnie tight. 

“I'm okay,” He reassured, “We just went to Hueso’s and got pizza.” He whispered, returning the hug. “Look at me, no injuries, nice and alive.” He sounded too anxious. As if Leo could look at him and see the pain radiating off his body. What a stupid fear.

Leo looked up, scanning his brother for injuries or, by the look in his eyes, signs of death. But Donnie looked fine, all of Leo's fears manifested from deep-rooted anxiety and, unfortunately, justified fears of Donnie's pain. But he could prove.

His nose was runny, and his eyes were dewy; he could hardly keep his face from falling apart. “You're okay?” The absolute despair in his brother's weak voice tore at Donnie, fearful for what Leo had seen in his mind.

“Better than ever,” he smiled. “Come on, let's get some food. Hueso added extra pineapple to yours.” Donnie helped Leo stand, ignoring the shake in his own legs. Hopefully, Leo didn't notice.

“Aw, no making fun of my choices?” Leo was clearly trying to remove the tension, likely embarrassed by his meltdown. Donnie wouldn't have it. 

“Not today, I love you too much for that. But if you'd like, I can insult you tomorrow about it.” With Leo wrapped around his shoulder, Donnie led him into the kitchen, where their brothers were sorrowfully waiting.

“I'd like that.” He sniffed.

The rest of the night was quiet, Leo hardly uttering a word. After dinner, the soft-shell would talk aimlessly about his technology to fill the silence and to let Leo's mind be at ease. He clung to him like a koala, afraid to let go, as if his release would condemn Donnie's death. Both of them were exhausted. Leo's heart was overrun by fear, a looming threat he knew existed but couldn't find. Donnie's body was pushing its limits. The increasing severity of pain was not letting up, and nearly two and a half months later, he feared it never would. He hoped it would at least plateau, end the progress somewhere tolerable.

At last, night fell. Leo never left Donnie's side, and Donnie never argued. The young slider tried to fight off sleep, terrified at what his mind would make him see, but his emotional exhaustion rapidly pulled away his strength, lulling him into deep sleep not long into the night. Donnie kept himself up, reading and sketching schematics while he waited for his brother to relax. Leo kept his arms tight around his brother, never once loosening, even in his rest.

The logical and illogical continued to argue, fighting between head and heart. Donnie had never felt so lost in a decision before. Maybe it was because, in his mind, either outcome resulted in negative results.

Tell his brothers he was struggling, and they worry their heads off to the point of scaring themselves rotten. They'd find a way to overprotect him more, keeping him away from aspects of his life. They stress and stress, to no avail, they’d give up ideas and waste their time worrying about Donnie.

Keep it a secret, Donnie suffers. His pain grows, and he never gets a proper answer as to why.

So what made it such an easy escape to choose the second option? 

Because then, it was only Donnie who suffered, not his brothers, not his father, not his friends.

And maybe, just maybe, he was desperately clinging onto the idea that he was okay, despite knowing deep down that he wasn't. If it was never severe enough to demand help, then he was fine. Perhaps he was being dramatic,  or maybe he was simply too tired.

Either way, he just wanted his family to heal. After all, that's what he'd been tasked to do after the invasion. Help your dumb-dumb brothers heal, and everything will be back to normal.  

So, he stuck to that plan.

Even if that “normal” shifted to be a bit more painful.

Chapter Text

Sluggish was not what Donnie was expecting to feel the next morning. Tired? Yes, like his muscles weighed twenty tons each? Not quite. His body had never taken the expected turtle speed to heart, yet now he felt slower than a one-hundred-year-old tortoise. When he tried to sit up, it felt nearly impossible to lift his head. He groaned, turning over in an attempt to find his brother. To his surprise, Leo wasn’t sleeping next to him. Doonnie stirred uncomfortably. He pushed himself up, no matter how heavy he felt. His room was dark, but a sliver of light came through his door. What time was it? Why was his room so cold? Why was he moving so slowly?

Donnie took a deep breath, or rather, tried to take a deep breath. His nose was slightly congested, so instead, he made a rather disgruntled hack, surprised by his rough breathing.

Do not tell me that I’m sick, I can’t take that right now.

He shook his head. Maybe he just slept on his side for too long. When he finally managed to put his feet down on the cold floor, his whole body protested. He felt hazy, his head heavy. Using the sides of his bed, Donnie hoisted himself up. Within seconds, his vision was shrouded in black spots, taking his balance with him. The next thing he knew, Donnie was on the cold floor, falling onto his back after slamming the left side of his body into the frigid concrete.

He let out a struggling cry, the pain searing up his spine. He lay there for longer than he’d like, groaning. Pressing his hands into the ground, he desperately tried to get up, but his arms started to shake and his elbows collapsed. “Come on, don’t do this,” he whined. He was dizzy and cold, his vision spinning. It was too dark, but he didn’t have his arm band, so he couldn’t turn on his lights remotely. Get your bō, it’ll help you stand. Where was his staff? Well, he was on the floor, not entirely sure where, but it should be leaning against his nightstand. It used to stay on the wall, in his equipment display, but his increasing dependency on it made him keep it close by at all times.

He couldn’t believe what he started doing, but he began crawling across his bedroom floor, the cold making him deeply consider installing a rug. With every movement, he had to pause and wait for his vision to clear. He hissed at every pull, but eventually, his palm met the wood of his nightstand. He began waving his hand around in the dark until it made contact with the shivering titanium.

His flailing touch tipped the weapon to its side, and soon the metal clashed loudly into the ground. Donnie winced, quickly blocking his ears, and the shattering clang sent rockets of pain through his head. He curled into himself for a second before forcing himself to unravel. This is pathetic, Donatello . He patted the ground, searching for his weapon again. Once he found it, Donnie pressed the end into the ground, climbing his hands up the staff until he could tuck his knees underneath him. His thighs felt stiff, and his shins were pounding from pain.

There was a knock at his door. Damnit! No, not right now! Despite the shake in his legs, he heaved himself upwards, barely catching himself. The door slid open, light flooding into the dark room. There was Mikey, a concerned look on his face when he saw his older brother hunched over his weapon.

Donnie turned away quickly from the door, the light burning his eyes and sending yet another round of pain in his head.

“Donnie?” Mikey rushed to Donnie, bringing his arms out in tentative support. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, Michael. I just slipped.” He took a hand off his staff to bat away his brother's hand. In doing so, he lost his support and stumbled forward. Mikey quickly stepped in front of his brother, catching him.

“Doesn’t look like it.” Mikey put his hands on Donnie’s shoulders, feeling his shivering. “Dee, you’re shaking!”

Figure something out, make it believable! The thought was hardly registered.

“Are you sick?” The young turtle rested the back of his hand against Donnie’s forehead. “Well, it’s not a fever, at least.”

“No, Mikey, I’m okay.” He huffed.

“Uh-uh, Donald. No turtle that’s 'okay' looks like you.” He went to Donnie’s side, his hands still on his shoulders, and began walking with him. “Come on, we’re gonna get you some hot tea and plain toast.”

Donnie tried to resist, but his vision started crowding again. He could feel himself tilting, legs tripping over themselves. Mikey saw his sudden loss in balance and called out, “Raph! I need some help, here!”

“No…” His voice hardly came. “No, ‘m fine.”

Without ever catching a good look, Donnie’s older brother was suddenly at his side, scooping him up. “Come on, big guy, let's get you to the couch,” Raph said, his voice soft. Though Raph was concerned for his brother, all Donnie could hear was pity .

Donnie, this isn’t being very helpful.

He grunted, attempting to release himself from Raph’s grasp, but his muscles didn’t even try to move. Donnie’s desperate pleas fell onto the deaf ears of his body. Move, damnit! All he got was a weak whine from his throat.

“Raph’s got you, buddy.” Even though Donnie was clearly unwell, Raph was quietly glad he could finally return the help his brother had been providing the past 2 months. Raph finally got to guide Donnie, instead of the other way around. He held his tiny brother close, gently rubbing circles into the soft shell's back. “Think he’s going to be well enough for therapy today?”

Donnie paused his racing thoughts. It’s Thursday already? He didn’t want to be in therapy, especially today of all days. It happened every two weeks on Thursday, after dinner. With what two of his brothers had just seen and what Leo had been dreaming of, this session was going to be painfully directed at Donnie . That’s what he needed to be avoiding right now. He had time to think of an excuse. If only his head would clear up, instead of feeling like there was carbonated water filling the extra space in his skull.

When Donnie felt the warm embrace of the couch, once again, he tried to escape. “I don’t think so, Mister,” Mikey said, standing his ground, blocking Donnie. “You stay down. You hear me?” Ah, hello, Dr. Delicate Touch, how nice of you to join me.

Another set of footsteps came into the living room, identifiable by the assisted sound of crutches. “Donnie!” It was Leo. Donnie’s eyes fluttered shut, the suddenly too-bright light and too-loud noise burning his head. “Mikey, is he okay?”

“I think he’s sick. He appears to be a bit delirious, I’m not sure.”

Leo slowly kneeled, sitting next to Donnie’s head on the couch. Just surrender to the assumption, Donald, this is easier for them to believe it’s a quick cold instead of… the temporary complication. Leo pressed his forehead into Donnie’s to compare temperatures. “Donnie, please tell me you’re okay.” Leo’s voice was barely above a whisper.

“I’m okay,” Donnie started, a quick cough expelling itself after, “just feeling a bit unwell. I don’t think it’ll last long.” He sure hoped it wouldn't, at least. It was an easy enough lie to choke out, since he was hoping it was the truth.

“Just a cold, you think? You’re not burning up.” Leo smiled, happy that Donnie so quickly accepted his condition.

“If that,” Donnie shuffled himself up against the couch armrest, slightly propping himself up. “I think I just didn’t eat enough yesterday, then with the heated blanket on all night… resulted in whatever this mess is.”

Leo thought about it. “You couldn’t get dehydrated that quickly unless you weren’t drinking any water yesterday.” He narrowed his eyes at his water-repelled twin. Donnie avoided eye contact with silly head movements, dramatically looking around.

“Whaaaat, nooooo, why would I do that?”

“Donnie!” Leo groaned.

“What, I forgot!”

Leo sighed, thankful it wasn’t anything serious. “You’re an aquatic turtle, dummy, that’s not something you can be forgetting.” Without saying a word, just a look from Leo directed their older brother to the kitchen. “If you haven’t had anything since yesterday morning, you’ve got way too long, over 24 hours…” He muttered.

There’s no way. “What time is it?” Donnie still felt disoriented, his vision still spinning.

“Just past 1 PM,” Mikey chimed in. 

“1 PM?!” Donnie sprang forward, regretting it immediately as the shadowy spots blocked all the light from his eyes. He fell back again, slowly. He’d woken up that late in the day? No wonder Leo was gone when he woke up; he had already completed half of his day.

Raph returned a moment later with a glass of ice water. Ice water.

“Jeez, it’s cold enough as is in here, are you trying to freeze me?” Donnie joked, taking the glass with just a hint of hesitation.

Leo raised a brow, “It’s not that cold in here, is it?” Raph shook his head, as did Mikey. “I’m going to get you some medicine.”

Raph assisted Leo as he stood up, resituating him on his crutches. He made his way to the med bay, mouth slowly pressing into a thin line.

________________

Leo was scared. Again. At least he was keeping himself upright and sane.

Donnie was fine. He was just dehydrated. Besides, Donnie was accepting it and being honest. So, all would be well. Just get some medicine, and he’ll be right back to his usual self. The new usual self that started 2 months ago…  

Donnie was accepting help , which was something new! A good kind of new!

Leo was breathing harder than he would like, bits of his past few nightmares flashing into his vision. Donnie, coughing up bits of pink, slimy, brai-

He shook his head. Talk it out in therapy, don’t dwell on it. That’s not going to help anybody recover.

In the med bay, Leo searched through different boxes and bottles of medication. He needed to develop a better system for this mess. Standard cold medicine would do. He found the clear, red pills and grabbed an electrolyte drink as well. This wasn’t severe enough for an IV, at least he hoped.

Leo made the trek back to the living room, his legs slowly becoming accustomed to pressure again. Mikey met him at the entrance and brought the medication to Donnie, who was still complaining. Once Raph was safely watching over the purple turtle, Mikey returned to Leo's side.

“You doing okay, Lee?” He asked, a gentle hand resting on his shoulder.

Leo smiled, resting his hand atop his brother's. “I will be. We can talk about it later tonight, okay?”

His little brother nodded, “Okay. I’m proud of you, Leo.” Mikey gently went in for a hug, which Leo gladly took. “You thinking about maybe talking about the nightmares, too?”

Leo took a long breath in. “I should.” Mikey gave him a sad smile. “It’ll be uncomfortable, but uh,” He looked down at his legs, “I’ve been through worse.”

______________

The brothers sat at the table, an awkward silence falling over them. There were no special attendees, so no dad, April, or Casey. 

The only one standing, Dr. Feelings had his standard round-framed glasses and subtle yellow turtle neck, ready to help these mentally unwell brothers of his.

“Okay, so,” Mikey started, clearing his throat. “I know things have been a little tense today,” he looked to Donnie and Leo, who were conveniently sitting across from one another. “And I wanted to start with that. The nightmares.”

Both Raph and Leo winced slightly, looking away.

“Either one of you want to start? I know they’re tough topics to talk about, but one way to stop them from happening is to confront them.”

Neither spoke.

Mikey nodded, understanding how difficult it was to openly discuss their fears. “Alright, how about I start?”

The brothers looked confused. Mikey was having nightmares? “Raph didn’t know you were having bad dreams, Mikester, are you okay?”

“Sure am, Raph.” He sat down, “I had nightmares up until a month ago. Almost every night. For the first while, a lot of what I saw was losing Leo, over and over again. Reliving a situation where, no matter what I did, I couldn’t open that portal. In those dreams, Leo died because I was too weak to help him, unable to do the one thing Casey said I was known for.”

“Mikey…” Leo’s voice trailed off, pain in his eyes.

“But not anymore. I got freaked out with these dreams because the fear of losing Leo, especially in that moment, kept carrying on into the aftermath. Leo was home, very injured, but alive. So, that fear started to go away.” He stopped, to emphasise his switching points, “After those nightmares, I kept seeing dreams where my arms would fall apart, and all of a sudden, you guys didn’t want me around anymore.”

Raph's face broke for a minute, but Mikey gave him a reassuring hand.

“So, I spoke with Casey for a while about why I felt so pressured to handle the mystic powers the way I did. I was afraid that my mystic abilities were the only thing the bad future cared about me for, so if I couldn’t fulfill that expectation, what was I ever going to achieve? But that’s not the case. Past- or future- or, whatever, timelines are weird, whichever version of me went through the apocalypse was known for a lot more than that.” Mikey had a soft smile, putting a hand over his heart, “I saved a lot of people, mystic or not. I was known for my heart, my relationships, and my art . I knew that version of me had so much more going for him than just my mystic powers. Once I worked through that, the nightmares stopped.”

Donnie watched his little brother, amazed at how someone so young, so fragile, was so much stronger emotionally than any of them. He almost felt ashamed of himself. Why couldn’t Donnie be more like him?

Mikey looked at his brothers, waiting for someone to go next.

Raph nervously took a breath. “Raph’s been getting a variety of nightmares. Most nights, it's watching myself get overtaken by the Kraang, where that fight with Leo… Leo doesn’t win. Where Raph wins. It’s tearing Raph apart, man.” His voice cracked just a smidge.

“Where you win, or where the Kraang win? Because during that fight, the Kraang had full control over you, those actions weren’t made with Raph’s mind, they were made by the Kraang's mind.” Mikey said softly.

“I know,” Raph whispered, surprising his brothers with the lack of third person. “I think…” He tested words out in his mind as Mikey waited patiently. “I don’t know, it’s just,” He groaned, not wanting to admit his fears out loud. But when he looked at his waiting brothers, he didn’t see an ounce of judgment. Even in Donnie, all he saw was patience and acceptance, so he took in the heavy words and found the confidence to speak. “With the way that I am, big ‘ol snapping turtle and whatnot, I was afraid that you guys would all start to think I was a monster, or that I could be violent by choice. I was worried that after seeing me in that Kraang state, you’d be stuck seeing me as a threat, someone or something to fear.” He touched his right cheek gently, “Especially since I’ve got the permanent marks of what happened. At first glance, even yokai fear me, just by the way that I look, now I’ve got these wild scars. What if that violence changed something in your eyes?

“Aw, Raph, no!” Leo reached out his hand, finding Raph's. “We all know you were hurting at that time, you were doing everything you could to stop what was happening.” Raph gave Leo’s hand a small squeeze. “Besides, we’ll always know our big brother is just a big teddy bear, no matter what you look like. You have to pay attention to the heart.” A few tears welled up in the snapping turtle's eyes.

“Thanks, Leo. I appreciate that.”

“Do you get any other nightmares?” Mikey pushed.

Raph shrugged, “Sometimes, but it’s mostly the same idea. I get some nightmares about being taken over by the Kraang again, but I don’t know if those fears will ever truly go away. It was a terrible experience that I know won’t ever happen again, but… it still hurts a little.”

“We get that. We’re always going to be here for support and to remind you that you’re safe, Raph. Thank you for sharing.” Mikey stood and wrapped his little arms around Raph in a big hug. When he sat back down, he looked to his blue brother. “Leo?”

This is where Leo felt his heart tense up. His nightmares were all over the place. They’ve discussed them before in therapy; the nightmares about the Kraang, the Prison Dimension, all of that had been talked through, and those dreams were going away over time. But Mikey meant the new nightmares. The ones that tore him apart all of the previous day. These dreams were about Donnie .

“Yeah, uh,” He looked at his twin. “I know you don’t really want to talk about emotional stuff, Don, but I think I should talk about what I was seeing.”

Donnie shifted in his seat uneasily, but he nodded.

“The main one I’m seeing, as of late, is Donnie…” He took a deep breath, trying to stabilize his weakening voice, “dying in a fight.” Donnie looks away. “I know, I’m sorry. I keep seeing these situations where we’re all divided, fighting some enemy, be it Kraang, Big Mama, Shredder, or something else. Every time, without fail, something happens to Donnie. He gets stuck. Sometimes his legs give out, sometimes he can't lift his bō, he can't escape a trap, just something . I’m always given the chance to help him, like a taunt, but no matter what I do, I can never get to him. I’m stuck, and I watch him get killed. Over and over again, in a new god-awful way every time.” Leo explained everything so quickly that he’s out of breath. He stops abruptly, anxiously seeing Donnie’s response.

Donnie’s expression is difficult to read. There’s concern, fear, anger, maybe?

“Okay,” Mikey sounds like he’s going to cry, almost. “Where do you think those fears are coming from?” Mikey kept an eye on Donnie, interested to see what would happen. He was worried after he found Donnie that afternoon. He had recovered pretty quickly, but he was still dragging his feet, still queasy, not eating all that well. Maybe this would reveal something, maybe he would open up for once.

“I think I’m just scared. After the invasion, Donnie made it out in the best condition. He was the one thing that…” Realizing Leo hadn’t voiced this fear of his, he stopped. But Mikey knew what that meant when he stopped mid-thought. So it was now or never. “I keep getting stuck in the thought that I’m at fault for all of your injuries. Just because I lost the key. And I know! I know I’m not, I’m really trying to get rid of that idea, and I’m getting better, it’s just not gone yet.” He finished that sentence quickly. He wasn’t lying, but he didn’t want to get a whole other section of therapy on a problem he was already fixing. “For Donnie, seeing him as healthy as he was, was the one thing that made me feel a bit better. I could have screwed up more, you know? I didn’t mess up everyone in my family. So many things could have been worse, but they weren’t. He was a point of recovery, something I could start with.”

Donnie looked up, both fearful and sad.

“I’m going to be honest, Don, and I don’t mean this with any ill intent, but you’ve changed since the invasion. We all have, which is why I think this is just anxiety eating away at me.” Leo looked right into his eyes, hoping his message was clear. He wasn’t blaming Donnie; he knew this was all incredibly difficult. “With the way you changed, you seem so much more tired, more exhausted, like you’re in pain. So that insecure part of me keeps thinking that something is wrong and we aren’t taking care of it. Because of that, because of my oversight and mistake, this unknown problem gets dismissed and is the reason you get killed in the fight.”

The quiet turtle takes a moment to think. Emotions weren’t his thing, Leo knew that, so he was happy that he was even considering a response.

“I appreciate your concern, Nardo,” he started, his voice as flat as ever, “and I can see why that fear manifested into something like that. I will admit, I am more tired than I ever have been, but I can assure you that it’s because I’ve been working on a lot of technology, a lot of coding and systems, things to keep us safe. I haven’t been sleeping well, at least not consistently. As I know, Mikey is going to ask, I promise to make improvements to my sleep schedule. I just ask that you hold off on your expectation of such acts until I am, at least, 65% confident in my developing safety measures. In case you’re wondering, I am currently at 54% surety.”

“Thank you, Donnie. Leo, does that reassure you at all?”

Leo smiled, knowing how annoyed his brother must be. “It does.” It was the honest truth, even if a bit of anxiety would keep gnawing at his mind for who knows how long. He’d always care about his brother.

“Any other nightmares?”

Leo groaned, “Yeah, still Donnie related, I fear.” Donnie appeared unfazed, much to Leo’s surprise. “But I can’t really understand what it means.”

“Then let's talk about it.” Dr. Feelings was working overtime tonight.

The Slider looked unsure. “It’s uncomfortable. Donnie might not like to hear about it.”

“I’ll stick around until it’s too much,” he said simply.

For what felt like the thousandth time that night, Leo took a deep breath. “It’s mostly pitch black, wherever we are, just a void with some hazy purple lights. Much like the Technodrome. Donnie is far in front of me, his voice weakly calling out. He says he doesn’t feel well and wants to go home, but it’s so hard to hear him. His voice is scratchy, and he can’t keep a sentence flowing. When I get to him, we start walking away, but I don’t know where to. There are no doors, no visible pathways, but we’re walking. But then he starts coughing, an aggressive kind of cough that sounds like something is lodged in his throat.” Donnie’s shoulders curl in, “not quite throwing up, but he’s gagging. He’s like that for a bit, while I try and console him through it, then he starts coughing up a bit of blood, then rather quickly,” Leo looked at his brother, anxious, “the blood starts thickening until it’s almost solid. The color turns pink, and he is now coughing up slimy, small, Kraang bits, I think.”

Donnie quickly stands, hand over his mouth, and races off.

“Oh god, did I go too far?” Leo asked, scared that he had only made things worse.

“No, no, you’re doing good. Raph, can you go check up on him?” He nodded, and Mikey looked back at Leo. “Go on.”

Shuddering, “Eventually, he stops coughing, but the Kraang bits keep coming until they’re no longer bits but just full Kraang arms coming out of Donnie’s mouth, like they’re using his throat as an extension into the world. His eyes close and reopen, looking like the Kraang did,” Leo’s voice is shaking, the pitch inconsistent and breaking. “Donnie looks at me, then lunges in my direction. That’s usually when I wake up.”

Mikey is staring at him, hand over his mouth in shock.

“I’m sorry, maybe I should have-”

“No, Leo, don’t apologize. This is what we’re here for.” Mikey swallows hard, recentering himself. “Leo, I am so sorry you’re seeing this. Thank you for telling me.”

“Yeah,” he nodded weakly. “Do you think we could maybe finish this conversation another time? I need to go see Donnie.” Leo forced out, feeling his heart begin to race and his lungs begin to strain. 

“Yes, of course. I understand.” Leo stood from his seat, eyes becoming distant. Once he was gone, Mikey fell back into his chair, resting his hands on his forehead. Well, that was far worse than what he was expecting, but at least he got his brothers to open up. 

Now he had to figure out what in the world that dream meant. He got Leo to open up, but any hopes of getting Donnie to do the same went out the window.

Leo needed to get to his brother, who he found in the kitchen with Raph, downing several glasses of water. Throwing up was one of Donnie’s worst fears, that sensory demand being far too much.

“Donnie, I’m so sorry,” he lifted a hesitant hand to his brother.

“No,” he said through a long drink of water. Once he finished it off, he set the cup down, and against all expectations, Donnie pulled his brother in for a hug, and he didn’t let go. “No, don't say that, please.” His voice was barely above a whisper.

Leo wasn’t sure if that went better or worse than what he expected.

Chapter Text

Donnie felt sick . Carrying over with his fatigue from earlier, he now had a deep pit in his stomach, a black hole eating away at his insides. There was no way he was going to be able to sleep. He felt sick to his stomach, the imagery of that awful dream Leo spoke about making him dizzy and uneasy. He was thrilled he didn’t have to hear the conclusion of the second nightmare. Donnie didn’t think his body could handle it. The first one Leo retold ripped new fears into his head. How many times had Leo watched Donnie die?

It’s too late for you now, Donatello.

He should have said something earlier. He should have listened to his dumb-dumb brothers. Now he was too deep in the lies. Leo had solidified his and Donnie’s fears. Now, Leo was haunted by Donnie’s mystery problems, and Donnie was haunted by his inability to say anything. He had to derail these fears; he had to fix himself. Quickly. Maybe he needed to start training again. Make himself stronger, make Leo’s doubts fade.

Just pretend everything is okay, and things will pass. Leo will see that he’s fine. Besides, he already addressed where the fear was coming from, and Donnie had done his best to reassure him, so surely, those fears would be gone in no time. Right?

A vision of Donnie throwing up broken pieces of Kraang appeared in his mind. He gagged, hands clasping over his mouth. “Oh, god,” he muttered. His head was spinning again.

Grabbing his bō, Donnie stood from his bed and slowly made his way to the kitchen.

It was late in the night, the lair dark and quiet. Through his hazy vision, he could see a dim light coming from his father's room, and barely audible conversations in Japanese filled the distant hallway. He could hear movement somewhere else in his home, but couldn’t pinpoint where from. He stumbled through the cabinets and grabbed a cup. Filling it with water, he drank it all in one go, gasping for air when he was done.

Get it together. You never dreamt these things, Leo did; he’s the one suffering. Not you.

He huffed, turning around and leaning against the counter. He leaned his head back, slowing his breathing. Donnie sat there for a few minutes, waiting for his spinning head to come to a halt and his heartbeat to return to normal. He didn’t even notice how fast his heart was racing. He glanced down at his arm band, swiping to the vitals screen. His heart’s BPM history showed that two minutes ago, his heart was beating at 180 beats per minute. “Jeez,” he slurred.

His head started pounding again when he started to hear moving somewhere in the nearby living room. He looked out from the kitchen entrance, trying to see which brother was also plagued by insomnia.

It was too dark to see anything. He couldn’t tell what the noise was, but someone was definitely out there.

When he stood from his spot against the counter, leaning on his staff, he went to the entrance to look further in. Why hadn’t they said something?

Looking deep into the dark of his living room, he swore he saw someone moving in the corner. Two minuscule red lights appeared, barely bright enough to see. “What…?” Donnie squinted. The lights blinked. A strange hum filled Donnie’s ears, and his arms started to shake. “Who is that? Leo, are you messing with me? Cause I swear to Galileo, I will tear you to shreds.”

The shadows looked like they were moving. The small red lights began dancing around, like eyes darting back and forth. The screen on his arm started to beep. Donnie kept his narrowed eyes on the moving shadows, raising his arm to his eyes.

HEART RATE WARNING

Against his better judgment, he took his eyes off of the living room darkness and looked at the screen in full. He clicked on the notification, not noticing how he swayed. 

Heart Rate: 204

Donnie encourages you to sit down and slow your breathing! 

His breathing becomes heavy. What is going on? He looks back at the living room, his vision tilting. He stumbles, catching himself on the wall. Donnie puts a hand on his forehead, closing his eyes, the pain resurging.

Forcing his eyes open, he can’t locate the piercing red eyes. His breath hitches, now quickly trying to relocate the monster.

“Purple?” A voice snapped it out of it. “Purple, you look unwell.” A hand grabbed Donnie’s, making him jump.

“There’s something in the living room, Dad,” Donnie whispered, eyes frozen in front of him.

Splinter, quite concerned, tried to see what his son was talking about, but there wasn’t anything there. The rat made his way to the light switch and flicked it on. As he expected, the living room was empty.

“What? No, that’s not right, I saw something.” Donnie turned around, frantically searching the kitchen.

Splinter grabbed his son’s shaking hands. "You must head to bed, my son. This isn’t good for you.” It didn’t take much effort for Splinter to begin guiding Donnie away from the kitchen. The turtle's eyes were blank, confused. His body moved with little strength.

When Splinter brought Donnie to his room, Donnie managed to get his control back. “Sorry, pops.” He whispered, looking at his feet, when he finally sat on his bed.

“No need, purple.” Splinter took his son's hands, "You’re scared. Are you alright?”

Donnie shook his head, “I don't know.” He took a shaky breath. “I’m feeling very stuck right now.” He was shocked at how easily he could speak. Everything from the past few days crashed down on him, making him far weaker than he’d ever like to be. His father would always be a weakness, it seems, hoping that his honesty would make Splinter proud. 

“About what?”

“So many things. Leo’s nightmares are scaring me, and now I can’t make a good decision because I’m scared I’ll make the wrong one. I think I’m making everything worse by trying to make things better.” Tears threatened to fall onto his face. He was so stressed. He needed to say something, or else he was going to collapse. He could almost feel his childhood self crying out for his father, his emotional shelter. Tears began to roll down Donnie’s face. “I’m so anxious all of the time, which I hate . I’ve never been so on edge all the time., I’m supposed to be calm. That’s who I am. I’m so tired, Dad, this wasn’t supposed to happen.”

Splinter sighed, wiping a tear away. “You’ve been through a lot, it’s only natural that you’re dealing with some new things. Are you hurt?” Splinter knew about his blue son's recent fears. Mikey had recounted the therapy session earlier that day.

Donnie bit his lip. Now or never, Donald. Do something.

“I think so,” he muttered, words dragging out. “I don’t know what, though.”

Splinter looked shocked, “Well, that's no good! You should be getting help, my boy, not keeping it to yourself.”

Donnie shook his head, “Not yet. Please, Dad, I’m begging you,” He looked his father in the eyes, “Don’t say anything to my brothers. I don’t want to make things worse. They’re already scared; if there's a mystery problem with me, none of them are going to finish healing.” 

His father began to protest. He wasn’t going to let his son willingly make himself worse.

“Please,” Donnie pushed. “Let me figure out what’s wrong with me, and then I’ll get help. I promise. If I know the problem, we can approach it directly. That way, it’ll ease the fears.

Splinter knew Donnie wasn’t going to take no for an answer. “My son, you’re just going to hurt yourself more by doing that.”

“I’m finding ways to manage, I’ll be okay.”

They were silent.

“Promise me, Dad, that you won't say anything.” Splinter looked away. He didn’t want to agree to this. “Dad, promise me.” He pleaded, his voice unstable. Splinter realized just how much this was weighing down on his son's conscience.

Splinter sighed. His son was smart. He may not have agreed to this strange process, but if Donnie had his heart set on it, then the best thing he could do was support him. “Fine. But if I see it get too bad, I’m saying something, and we’re getting you tested. You hear me?”

Donnie smiled. “Okay. Thanks, pops.”

Unusual for the old rat, Splinter hugged his son. He could tell Donnie was uncomfortable with the sudden contact, but he needed to hold his son close. Donnie needed to know he cared.

“Good night, purple.”

“Night, Dad.”

Donnie sat in the dark, in silence, for a few more minutes after his dad left. He was done pretending. He couldn't lie to himself anymore. 

There was something wrong with him. Something unnatural and wrong. If he wanted to fix it, he’d have to find the problem. His eyes were heavy, puffy from the crying. He sniffed, pulling himself into his bed and wrapping himself tightly in blankets.

He had a long process ahead of him.

Chapter Text

Leo couldn’t tell if it was the fact that Splinter was spending an odd amount of time around them that day or if it’s because Donnie didn’t look all that happy about it that made him think there was something wrong. Donnie loved when their dad was around, seeing how little time they spent with him.

Splinter was basically trailing his purple twin. And, evidently, Donnie didn’t like it.

Leo tried to ignore his alarming thoughts. Trust your brother . He had told himself, over and over again.

He kept an eye on his dad since he woke up several hours ago. Donnie was in his room or lab for the majority of the morning, but on the rare occasions he left, be it for water or a small snack, Splinter was up in seconds to greet him. For a minute, Leo was scared he was jealous or something. 

But what really set him off?

One incident he overheard in the kitchen when Donnie surely thought he was safe.

“Dad, I’m fine.” He had sighed, annoyed by his dads pestering.

“Are you sure? Remember what I said– if it gets worse-”

“Yes, I know.” Donnie had quickly said. “Like I said, I’ve got it handled.”

He had what handled? What was getting worse? Leo managed to get out of the eye view before Donnie turned the corner. As Leo watched his twin walk away, he noticed something very small in his walk. He didn’t have his staff, like he had recently taken to, and without it, Donnie was limping. Almost unnoticeable, but every time he stepped onto his right leg, his next step was just a bit faster. A bit weaker.

It’s all he thought about as he worked through his physical therapy. All of his stretches, all of his muscle training, everything. Even when he was supposed to be focused on walking in a straight line on his own, he kept thinking about how Donnie was losing that ability.

“Leonardo, would you please focus?” Draxum said, crossing his arms. “You were walking much better yesterday, something bothering you?”

Leo had been thinking of how to ask Draxum for the favor he wanted. He didn’t think the scientist would oppose it, but his plan required another turtle's cooperation. That was less secure.

Leo huffed, returning to the hospital bed to restart his walking track. He was sore, his muscles barely strong enough to hold his weight for longer than five minutes without aid. What if this was what Donnie was experiencing? What if it was worse?

“Draxum,” he started. “I need a favor.”

“Oh dear,” Draxum put his forehead in his palm before dragging it down his face. “What is it that you want?”

Leo bit his lip slightly. “Can you do mystic tests of people? Like to test if there's something wrong with them… mystic poison or something.”

Draxum narrowed his eyes, “Why?”

Leo peeks at the door, making sure there's no one around. “Something is wrong with Donnie. There was nothing that came up on his medical scans, so… I’m thinking maybe he got hit with something mystic at some point after or during the Kraang attack.”

“And what makes you think that?”

Leo pouted, “You’re interrogating me right now?”

“If my powers are to be abused by you strange teenagers, I would like to know what for.” He stared at the turtle blankly, “So, tell me, what makes you think your brother has been mystically injured.”

“I just told you. He’s clearly messed up somehow but he didn’t have anything come up on the medical scans. He hasn’t exactly left the house outside of going to Hueso’s since the invasion. He’s always locked away somewhere.” He took a breath, “but he’s weaker, so much more tired than usual, sleeping less, limping , lying to me, collapsing on the floor, I could go on.”

Draxum groaned, “Fine. I can justify a test being done on Donatello.”

“Perfect!” Leo clapped once before Draxum ordered him to start walking again. “Now, how should I get Donnie to agree to such a test?”

“Just ask him?” The sheep man was carefully observing Leo as he slowly walked, recording his progress. Leo looked at him with doubt in his eyes, “no point in dancing around the fears, Leonardo. He knows you’re scared, I doubt he’ll neglect that anxiety.”

Leo hummed. He didn’t know if that was true. I think he’s been lying to me since I woke up a month and a half ago.  

Draxum groaned, tired of the teenagers’ dramatics. As Leo finished his track sufficiently straight enough, Draxum handed him his crutches. “Just go ask him. I’ll set up the test.”

“Okay,” Leo huffed.

After seeing Donnie’s absence in his room, Leo went to the lab. Donnie was perched at his desk, knees up to his chest and propped against the table with his heated blanket overtop them. He was clicking through his many monitors, running a simulation while also finishing up a digital design for something Leo could not decipher.

He stepped into the lab, the colder air making his legs feel a bit worse for wear. This was standard, after his physical therapy. Donnie was definitely onto something with that heated blanket. Leo cleared his throat, nervously.

Donnie looked over his shoulder. “Yes, Nardo, what do you need?” He looked back to his screens, stopping whatever code he was currently running to fix a faulty line. He typed away as Leo tried to find the right words.

“I know we talked yesterday about my fears with you being hurt,” he started, noticing a slight change in Donnie’s posture as he spoke. “I was just wondering if maybe… you’d be willing to undergo a test?”

Donnie stopped typing. He turned around by pushing his hands against his desk and slowly spun around. “What do I need to be tested for?” His voice held just a hint of defense. 

“Nothing crazy, it’s just a mystic test that I asked Draxum about. I want to make sure that you aren't infected by anything weird.” Leo hated how childishly afraid he sounded.

Donnie pinched his poorly drawn eyebrows. Apparently he didn’t have much effort for his looks today. “Mystic testing?” He sighed, “if it’ll ease your unnecessary worrying, then fine. I’ll do it.”

His comment about unnecessary worrying stung a moment. Was it so wrong to care about his brother? He shook his head, dismissing Donnie’s attitude. This wasn’t all that new for his sassy twin. As Donnie stood, Leo caught his hand's automatic reach for his staff, but Donnie pulled back almost immediately, stopping himself. 

Donnie followed Leo out of the lab, stretching his arms out far in front of him as they walked. Yawning, he shivers. The med bay isn’t as cold as Donnie’s lab, thankfully. As they walked in, Draxum was standing in the middle with a circle drawn out on the floor.

“Am I going to be sacrificed today?” Donnie chuckled.

“This is the least fraudulent-looking thing I’ve seen from mystic Draxum in a while, actually.” Leo laughed softly with his brother.

Draxum frowned, “You want this test or not?”

“Yes, yes, sorry.” Leo said just as Donnie mumbled “Not really.”

Donnie took his spot in the middle of the circle while Leo went to sit down on the hospital bed. Donnie huffed a tired sigh, rolling his neck.

Draxum began his work, muttering a few words as he moved his hands. The circle the turtle stood in began to glow, a wall of light rising up from the outline. It started as a pale orange color, slowly encasing Donnie. Draxum said another string of unrecognizable words and a line started to form at the base of the light and began circling, its bright green color tracking Donnie’s movements and scanning each part of his body. Leo waited nervously as the light checked over his brother's legs, the suspected problem spot, but rather soon, the light moved on. After checking his arms, the light spiraled around Donnie’s chest. It took the longest time there, so far, which was worrying, but as information began loading onto a screen Draxum had dragged over, the scientist showed no signs of concern. Donnie flinched at the light as it began its scan of his head, but adjusted after a second.

The whole scan took about five minutes. Five, painfully long, minutes. Leo stared at Draxum, awaiting an answer.

Donnie stepped out of the circle, rubbing his eyes. “Yeesh,” he blinked a few times.

“Well?” Leo asked, getting impatient.

“I’m not seeing any signs of anything, nothing out of the ordinary. Looks like his eyes had marks of something mystic, but that just appears to be from his goggles, since he looks through a mystic lens pretty frequently.” He stepped back, looking at the brothers. “Donatello has no mystic complications.”

Leo’s shoulders dropped. Don't get him wrong, he was thrilled that Donnie wasn’t poisoned or cursed, but that just meant it would be harder to get an answer. “See?” Donnie said, throwing up loose jazz hands. “I’m fine, you’re worrying about nothing, Nardo.”

Leo didn’t believe him.

As Donnie was about to leave, their elder brother poked his head into the med bay. “There you are, Donnie! We’ve been looking for you.”

“What for?”

“Training, remember?” Leo flinched. “We’re gonna start in a few minutes, so go get your gear.”

Donnie shouldn’t be training, right? He’s not okay, Leo knew it. But he couldn’t prove it. He looked at his brother, expecting a protest, or at least something in his face to show he couldn’t do it. But Donnie just nodded. “I’ll be over shortly.”

“Donnie-” Leo tried.

“Nardo, I know you’re worried about me, but you’ve got to let it go. I’m going to go train, get back on my feet, and everything will be fine. I promise you, I’m not suffering whatever it is you’re imagining.” Donnie sounded frustrated, almost. Leo frowned. This wasn’t right. Donnie was going to make it worse.

Leo wanted badly to protest, but he knew it wouldn’t work. He would just have to keep researching. He was going to find something, he knew his twin was off. He’d spent the last seventeen years with Donnie, there was nothing he could do different that would go unnoticed.

_________________

Donnie was never one for training, but for once, he figured he’d benefit. His muscles were out of their prime, which was likely the cause of his pain. In the dojo, he had the heat turned up a few degrees. It was so cold everywhere else. Donnie was still recovering from his mystic test earlier. He didn’t realize how painful just standing would be.

He sat on the floor, reaching for his feet to stretch out his stiff muscles. Next to him, Mikey was throwing out insane warmups, basically in a full split every time. His flexibility is unmatched by his brothers. Technically, Donnie could be more flexible if he wanted to, his range of mobility biologically the best out of the four, with his soft shell. He just never worked for it. Mikey put in the most work, insisting it would add more flair to his razzmatazz. Him and Mikey were the most mobile, Leo was fine, and Raph struggled. At least Leo could touch his toes with consistent stretching, but no matter what Raph did, he could only ever barely reach past his knees.

Mikey had his elbows to the floor in a middle-split, humming a quiet song as he scrolled through his phone. “You ready, Dee? I’m looking forward to sparring again.” He smiled, putting his phone down.

“Ready as I’ll ever be, I suppose.” Honestly, his legs tingled and went a bit numb as he stretched. “Are you sure your arms are good enough to fight?”

“Draxum cleared me, as long as I don’t put too much stress on them. Besides, there’s no way to get back to good ol’ healthy Mikey without putting in some work.” He sat up and brought his legs in front of him before standing. Donnie followed him, regrettably, as he felt blood rush to his head and his vision crowded in black. He didn’t fall over this time, but he did feel a bit dizzy. “So not a lot of arm work, but I should be good for some fighting.” He started jumping around lightly, throwing out punches at nothing.

Donnie was worried about his little brother. What if his arms weren’t ready? This training could backfire so quickly.

“Alright, guys, let's do this.” Raph said, walking into the dojo as he cracked his knuckles. “Ready to get back in shape?”

“Thrilled, he said without a hint of sarcasm ,” Donnie rolled his eyes. His shoulders still felt stiff.

“Come on, Dee, it’ll be fun!” Mikey hit the back of Donnie’s shell.

Raph and Mikey looked so happy about training, Donnie almost felt it, too. But the burn in his legs that slowly began to creep forward blocked any joy. He just needed to get this over with. The faster he finished training, the faster his pain would go away.

The three brothers walked to the center of the dojo, where Raph turned to address them. “We’ll do four fights each, two without weapons, two with. Sound good?” Mikey and Donnie nodded. “Don, how about we start? No weapons.”

Donnie cringed, but accepted. He hated fighting without his weapons.

Once Mikey was safely sat against the wall, Raph and Donnie took a stance watching each other from across the room. Donnie narrowed his eyes in thought. Fighting Raph without weapons was almost a guaranteed win to the bigger turtle. This pair was the polar opposite in strength. The only way Donnie would have a chance was to wear down his brother and hope he trips up.

Raph moved first, taking a long jump in front of him. Donnie dropped his stance before jumping up, grabbing onto Raph’s hand as he reached for a punch to propel himself further, up and over his brother. He slid forward as he landed, quickly turning around as he dropped his knee into the ground. He quickly stood against the protest of his thighs. Both of the turtles moved forward, defense and attack in mind. They went on, back and forth, for a few minutes while Donnie waited to tire out his brother. The adrenaline fended off Donnie’s pain, but he knew it wouldn’t be long before it hit him like a truck.

Raph was moving a bit slower, his breathing deeper. He ran for another attack and Donnie held still just long enough for Mikey to think he was going to get hit before he jumped to the side, grabbing onto Raph’s left hand that was kept at his side and drawing it backwards as Donnie ran. Surprised, Raph looked back as his arm extended and Donnie jumped, dragging the arm across Raph’s back, causing him to spin around to avoid a dislocated shoulder. His foot slipped from underneath him, his balance thrown off. He stumbled, instinctively reaching his right hand out to stabilize himself. Donnie landed on his shoulder, driving it into the ground until Raph fell forward onto his face.

To end the fight in a joking manner, Donnie sat on his big brother's shoulders and peered down as Raph groaned. “And boom goes the Donnie-mite.” He chuckled, smiling at his win. He slipped off Raph’s shoulders as he began to stir.

“Nice job, Donnie,” Raph sat up, rolling out his shoulder. “Your agility seems just as intact as always. I really thought I was going to win that.”

“We’re all delusional, sometimes, my dear brother.” Donnie patted his brother's arm. “I’ll let Mikey take the next fight. Seems like you need some extra practice.” He said, a sly grin on his face.

Mikey jumped up from his spot on the floor. “You’re going down , Raphie!”

“We’ll see about that, Big Man. I don’t lose two times in a row.”

Warmed by his brother's ambition, Donnie took a seat, mentally preparing for the monsoon of pain he was about to be in.

Just as he expected, a few seconds after he finally stopped moving, a wash of burning heat went over his legs, feeling as though thousands of hot knives were digging into his skin. He took deep, heavy breaths to get his way through it, watching his brothers fight to distract himself. The pulsating pain maintained its steady increase in severity for another minute before it held off, leaving the pain to be something Donnie could adjust too. The pain was becoming normal, something he woke up to and went to bed with.

His brothers wrapped up their fight after ten minutes, and when Donnie went to stand, now his turn to fight Mikey, he couldn’t. His legs had gone numb with pain, and as he applied pressure to them, they began to shake. “Oh come on,” he whispered. Not now, don’t give out on me now .

“You alright, Don?” Raph asked, sitting down next to him.

“Sure am,” He tried again, willing his legs to work. They were slow but they finally responded. Shaking, he stood. “Alright, Mikey,” he kicked his legs out, wiggling them to get the blood flowing.

Mikey looked concerned, “take it easy,” he said quietly.

“The only thing I’m taking easily is this fight.” Keep up the act and they’ll never know. “Are your arms feeling alright?”

Mikey hummed. Both took their stands, Mikey feeling loose and ready, Donnie feeling heavy and on the brink of collapsing. He wasn’t going to let that happen.

Donnie went for it first, running low towards his brother. Mikey leaped out of the way, watching his brother carefully. Donnie spun, quickly switching directions to meet Mikey. He brought his leg up for a kick. Mikey raised his arms, pushing back against the contact. Mickey quickly grabbed onto Donnie's ankle and pushed him away. Donnie could feel himself falling backwards. He let his hands hit the ground before him and sprung himself back to his feet in a handspring. He got his footing back just in time to catch Mikey coming at him with his fists brought to his face. Mikey swung, Donnie dodged. Donnie tried to attack back but with all his heart, he couldn’t keep his arms up longer than ten seconds. His arms felt like fifty pound weights, every time he lifted them up, he couldn’t breathe for a moment. 

The two continued to dance around one another, Donnie on defense and Mikey on offense. Every second, Donnie grew weaker. He knew this was a losing battle but something in him wouldn’t let him stop. You need to be strong . He kept hearing himself think. Mikey jumped forward, Donnie kicked his leg up to knock him down. Mikey grabbed onto his leg and pulled his brother forward. Mikey took a step towards Donnie as he stumbled in his direction and hooked a leg over Donnie’s remaining knee. He brought his leg in and Donnie fell. Mikey ducked just as Donnie’s upper leg swung over his head as he fell. Donnie’s knee slammed into the ground, a painful strike of pain sucked out his breath as his hands caught him. Mikey jumped back, anticipating a longer fight, but when Donnie didn’t get up, he stopped. Donnie tried to move his leg but his muscles burned with the fire of a thousand suns.

Mikey dropped his hands, “Donnie, you’re supposed to get back up.” He went to his side when Donnie couldn’t respond. “Dee?” Raph stood up.

“I’m fine,” Donnie forced out, bringing his head up. He turned around, now sitting on the ground. He brought his knees up and rested his elbows atop them, struggling to control his breath. He kept his face down, unable to hide the pain in his expression. Not even a five minute fight. How weak can you be?

“Man, you’re really out of shape, huh?” Raph asked with a caring tone as he knelt down to Donnie. He rested a hand on his younger brother's shoulder. Despite his kind tone, Donnie couldn’t help but feel like it was a stab in his heart. 

He was already the weakest of them. He already didn’t have the same combat level and wasn’t as agile as Mikey. He was already far too dependent on his weaponry compared to his brothers. Now this? Now he can’t fight? How was he supposed to be a ninja if he couldn’t fight? How was he supposed to make his father proud if he couldn’t be a ninja? He was a disappointment to the entirety of the Hamato Clan. A weak, pathetic excuse of a Hamato.

He felt tears. No, damnit! You can’t cry here! 

“Yeah, really out of shape.” Donnie choked out. He hoped they couldn’t hear the break in his voice. “Can I sit out for the rest of the training?” He hated how weak he sounded. How quickly he gave up. But he couldn’t fight. He could hardly stand. “I’ve got some tech I want to work on, anyway.”

“Of course, buddy!” Raph said, offering a hand to help him stand. “We just started training again, so of course we’re gonna be a bit tired. Thank you for sticking around, though!” Donnie didn’t answer. 

Donnie’s legs shook as he stood. He could hardly keep up his weight. His bones felt brittle and his muscles felt as if they were melting off. He took slow steps to his staff, writing it off as being tired. Just get to your room. That’s not far .

He bid his goodbyes to an oblivious Raph and a slightly suspicious Mikey and left the dojo.

It was a painfully long walk back to his room, his staff taking the brunt of the work. When he finally managed to get there, he collapsed on his bed and heaved a breath. Breathe in, breathe out. His exhales were sharp and pointed, his inhales broken and uneven.

He couldn’t help but feel like this was some sick joke on himself.

He finally started to feel like he amounted to something as a ninja after fighting the Shredder. He had fought so well, maintained his strength and won . His fighting was getting better, he was getting stronger.

And now?

When he finally felt like he belonged, felt like he could make his family proud, it was taken away from him. Ripped violently from his grasp, tearing apart his muscles and his confidence. Physically, he couldn’t take it. Every day was getting worse. Every night he felt sharp pains when he was supposed to be resting. There was no relief from the excruciating pain. Mentally, it felt like a shot in the head. He couldn’t make good decisions. He was losing his ability to focus, the pain demanding all of his attention most of his time. He was exhausted so quickly that it was difficult to work on projects for as long as he’d like. He was losing himself.

Donnie sat up. Nothing was going to be achieved by sitting there and sulking. He still had work to do. Still had systems to write and tech to build. If he couldn’t train, he would work. He would create and use his brain.

At least science would always be there for him. This pain couldn’t take that from him.

Right?

Chapter Text

Donnie had been staring at his monitor for a few minutes now, looking at a specific line of code. He knew he was supposed to fix it, but didn’t know what needed to be fixed. It didn’t look wrong, not at first, at least. He sat back, confused. He tried to remember why he had stopped the simulation, but the past five minutes of his life were… gone. He let the simulation run, waiting for it to hit the problem line as he took a tired breath. He rested his cheek on his hand, tapping in a consistent rhythm as he waited. Once the code failed, he returned to the line. It took him another minute, but eventually; he realized what he had to change. But as he went to fix it, he couldn’t remember how he could change it. He paused, sitting up and lifting his hands from his keyboard. What is going on? He knew what he needed to fix but not how to fix it?

What is wrong with you? This isn’t even that difficult of a simulation; what’s there to forget?

Donnie sat wide-eyed at his desk, racking his brain for the right method to fix his code. But nothing came. He sat back in shock.

Use your brain, Donnie. What are you doing?

He huffed, clicking away from his project. He could work on it later. He was tired of his brain malfunctioning and sick of it insulting the hell out of him for it. Why couldn’t he just work in peace?

He moved on to a digital schematic and started adjusting some measurements and outlining his design process. Though he was completing the tasks he had set out, he was moving significantly slower than he usually would. His thoughts came slower; his response time was worse. He knew he had been sleeping worse than usual, especially since he was getting new nightmares after hearing what Leo was seeing, but he was still chalked up on caffeine. No more than usual, so he couldn’t reason why he was so tired.

The heated blanket over his lap was at its highest temperature, the warm burn a welcoming distraction from his pain. Maybe he should heed Casey’s warning about a barrier between his legs and the blanket… no, he’d be fine. He was too tired to get up and grab another blanket, anyway.

Working in his solitude, he made slow progress. Eventually, there is a knock at his door. Donnie lets it open, not moving from his spot.

“Hey, Donnie,” Mikey said, not walking into the lab. “April and Casey Jr. are coming over in a bit.” Donnie was too absorbed in his work to automatically respond, but the information was processed. He kept himself facing his work and hummed lightly, not sure if his brother heard him. “Donnie?” Mikey said, confused.

“What?”

Mikey waited a moment. “Are you gonna answer my question?” 

Donnie stopped working and turned around. “You asked a question?” Now they were both confused.

“Yeah, I asked if you wanted to come help me pick out another movie to show Junior.”

Donnie didn’t remember him asking that. “Oh, uh, sorry. I’m good though, I have faith in your decisions.”

They stared at each other awkwardly until Donnie slowly turned around. “Donnie, are you okay?”

Oh god, not this again. He groaned internally. “For the last time, yes, I’m fine, Mikey.” He said with more bite than he intended, but he didn’t regret it. He was tired of the looming unnecessary care from his brothers. Leo was already being too dramatic, demanding a whole mystic test on him and now Mikey was in on it. He was watching him with a close eye and told him to take it easy during training– he didn’t need to take it easy. He was perfectly fine and could handle himself without the overbearing brothers.

“Are you sure, because-”

Donnie stood up, the blanket slipping away from his lap. He grabbed his empty water cup, an excuse to get away from this situation. “I am beyond sure. Can you guys leave me alone? Focus on yourselves, jeez.” He muttered, pushing past his brother and ignoring the sharp pains in his knees. “Put this energy elsewhere.” He grumbled, out of earshot. He didn’t notice how Mikey’s face fell from shock.

He wasn’t sure what came over him there, but he felt it was justified. Why wouldn’t they listen to him? He was trying to help them by maintaining his privacy, and it’s like they didn’t care!

Once the initial annoyance wore off, he started thinking about the bit of the conversation he missed. Had Mikey really asked a question? It must have gone right over his head, because he couldn’t recall any of it. Well, this is why he records everything. After he returned to his lab, Mikey, now absent, he sat down and started to pull up the recording info that should have been saved by now.

“April and Casey Jr. are coming over in a bit, do you wanna come pick out a new movie to show Junior? We’re making good progress on Jupiter Jim, but he needs some Lou Jitsu in his life.”

Damn. Even after listening to the recording, he couldn’t remember ever hearing Mikey say that. He must be really tired if his mind was throwing around his memories like that. 

Now your mind is failing you? The logical harrowed. 

Shut up, no it’s not. Stop being dramatic. The illogical fought back.

Donnie sighed, resting his head in his hands. He was so tired. Maybe having his friends over would relax him enough to get over whatever funk he was in.

_____________

Mikey looked upset, almost like he was about to or had been crying. “Angelo!” Leo called before his little brother got out of earshot. Leo had just finished up physical therapy, now sitting in the med bay while Draxum wrote down some information.

Mikey walked back, rubbing his cheek with the back of his hand. “What’s up?” He asked quietly. Leo waved him over.

“What’s wrong? Are you okay?” He rested a hand on Mikey’s shell once he sat down next to him. “You were crying?”

“No, no it’s okay,” he sniffed. “I’m just being dramatic.” He forced out a weak laugh.

Leo shook his head, “None of that, hermanito. Tell me what happened.”

A few more tears appeared in Mikey’s eyes. “I think Donnie is mad at me.” He sniffed, his mouth quivering. “I asked him if he was okay earlier and he kinda blew up. I mean, not really, but he did? I don’t know, he’s just been kinda angry recently and I’m scared I messed up.”

Leo frowned and pulled his brother into a hug, “You didn’t do anything, Mikey.” He held him there for a minute, letting his little brother cry into his shoulder softly. Mikey had been working endlessly to try to get Donnie to open up, and he thought he was making progress. The downside was, Donnie didn’t like therapy and he didn’t like how persistent Mikey or the rest of his family had been. Mikey was constantly worried he was going to cross a line or make his brother mad. Nothing had shown that that was happening, but maybe this was it? Maybe Mikey crossed a line with their most recent therapy, maybe Donnie couldn’t handle the nightmares. “Donnie’s been off for a while now, it’s got nothing to do with you.”

“What do you mean?” Mikey asked, pulling away.

Leo shook his head, unsure how to express what he was thinking without worrying his brother. “He’s just been… stressed, I think. He’s on edge and it’s making him agitated. It’s not you, I promise.”

They spoke for a few minutes, eventually Leo got Mikey to laugh. He hated seeing his little brother cry.

Once Mikey had left, Leo bid Draxum a farewell and knew where he was headed. Donnie was keeping a secret, there was something wrong, and Leo knew it. Donnie was suffering. Either way, Donnie shouldn’t have lashed out at Mikey. He hadn’t done anything wrong and didn’t deserve that kind of attitude.

___________

Donnie rolled his eyes as his lab doors opened again. Am I simply not allowed peace anymore? He closed his eyes. He needed to calm down. What was he getting so upset for, it’s not like he was focused on his work. God knows he was trying to be, but he couldn’t keep himself on track to save his life.

“You need to apologize to Mikey.”

Donnie sighed. Why couldn’t his friends get there sooner. “What did I do, exactly?” He turned in his chair, catching his blanket before it slipped off. Leo stood at his door, without his crutches. “Where are your crutches, you shouldn’t be walking without those yet.”

“This isn’t about me right now.” Leo didn’t move, but Donnie could see his leg twitch slightly and his brow furrow in response. “Draxum advised me to walk by myself for a few minutes everyday.” He added quickly. Leo knew he should keep his brothers informed, even if he was mad.

Donnie nodded, taking note of Leo’s progress in a notebook that rested on his desk. Leo huffed.

“I know you’re going through something right now, but since you sure as hell won’t tell me, I can’t give you many graces when you start acting like a bitch.” He was about to continue but Donnie cut in.

“I’m not going through something, Leo, for fucks sake.” He went back to facing his brother.

“Yeah, whatever, lying isn’t going to get you anywhere. Either way, that doesn’t mean you can take your anger or annoyance out on Mikey. He didn’t do anything wrong and didn’t deserve to be lashed out at.”

Donnie’s face pinched, “I didn’t take anything out on Mikey, what are you talking about?”

“He was crying! Because of how you responded to him earlier!” Leo threw his hands up slightly.

Donnie stood up, “I didn’t do anything, why would he be crying because of me?”

“Well, clearly, that isn’t the case. He thinks you’re mad at him because he’s trying to help you. He thinks he messed up and now you’re upset.”

“I’m not upset at him-”

“Then stop acting like you are! You’ve been so uptight recently, getting annoyed at every little thing we do to try and help you.” He sighs, “You’re distant at therapy, you’re grumpy every time we talk, if you’re not, you run off so soon after like you’re trying to get away from us, you don’t join us for dinner, you won’t let us help you.”

“I don’t want your help, Leo! There’s nothing to help! All you’re doing is wasting time that you need to spend on getting better. I am fine, I’m just busy!”

“You can get pissy at me all you want, okay? Just not Mikey.” Leo’s voice softened. He didn’t mean for this to become a fight. His emotions were taking over, his worry for his brother making him lash out, which was exactly what he was telling Donnie not to do. If he wanted Donnie to be better at his responses, he would have to be the example. Donnie looked at him with a hint of pain in his eyes, contemplation with an internal argument. “I’m sorry for yelling, Don. I’m worried about you.”

Those words caused his brother’s face to flinch, angry. Donnie walked forward, not even trying to hide him rolling his eyes. He pushed right past Leo.

“Where are you going? We’re not done talking.”

“To talk to my little brother.” He said flatly, not looking back.

Partial success? Maybe?

Definitely didn’t end in a good manner, but at least Donnie was going to apologize. Hopefully.

_______________

Mikey never kept his door closed during the day. An open invitation for anyone to come in. Even so, Donnie quietly knocked at the wall, alerting his brother that he was there.

Mikey was sitting on his bed, curled up with a drawing tablet in his lap. Fairy lights lit up the room with an orange hue, the cozy atmosphere built with the abundance of blankets and pillows strewn about the floor. A few beanbag chairs against the wall, a plush rug beneath them. The walls were decorated in art from Mikey’s childhood and whatever traditional art he made now. Most of his paintings ended up in the main rooms of the lair, so he had a few sketches and printed digital pieces strung up. It was a warm space, the physical depiction of Mikey’s heart.

The box turtle looked up at the noise. “Can I come in?” Donnie muttered. His heart was racing, and honestly, he felt like he was going to throw up. This was the first time he’d ever been afraid to talk to his little brother, which was jarring. He hated what this pain was turning him into, some kind of coward.

Mikey hummed, nodding. He watched carefully as Donnie plopped himself on a large beanbag, shifting uncomfortably with how it moved. He started out sitting crisscross applesauce but after his knees began protesting violently, he quickly moved to having his legs simply out in front of him. That still hurt, but it was less so. Donnie hated these chairs, but he didn’t have many other options. Despite the many times Mikey had crawled into bed with Donnie when he was feeling down, Donnie was uncomfortable enough as is with what he was doing, and felt that maybe that wasn’t the move.

Donnie sat, looking at his lap where his hands were folded. He hated doing this, hated having to confront emotions or problems that regarded no statistics. If he didn’t hate it before, he certainly did now, his subconscious thinking of every wrong way this could go. This was an unpredictable situation and he didn’t know what to say or what to do. What was the right way to start? Was there a pattern he could reference? Anything to ease that scientific brain of his?

He sat there for a painfully long minute, forming new sentences in his mind, over and over again, afraid of saying the wrong thing. Eventually, Mikey smiled. “You know I love you, Donnie, I’m not gonna get mad. Just start talking.”

He sighed, “I know. I’m sorry Mikey.” He took a slow breath and sunk into the chair, in an effort to hide himself away. “I didn’t mean to upset you earlier. I was frustrated and took it out on you, which was wrong.” Donnie stared at his brother as his voice died out.

Mikey kept his smile as he returned to his drawing. “You’re getting better at apologies, you know?” 

Donnie tried to smile but it came out a little disfigured. Mikey hadn’t forgiven him, or at least not audibly, so he didn’t feel like he was in the safe zone yet. “Your work is paying off, I guess.”

Mikey didn’t say anything, silently working away on his tablet. Donnie sat there in agonizing anticipation, unsure if he did the right thing. Maybe he didn’t say enough? What if he said the wrong thing? It wasn’t until his leg started bouncing rapidly that his brother spoke again. 

“I forgive you, Don.” Donnie’s shoulders dropped and he could feel his heart slow down to the appropriate speed. “Though, I will say,” he sat up and put his tablet to the side, took off his custom drawing glove Donnie had made several years ago, and stood from his bed. “I’m not sure much of my work is actually paying off. I can’t force you to talk, we all know that’s not going to work, but I fear there’s more going on then you’re being honest about.” Mikey motioned with his hands for Donnie to scoot over. Once the softshell strangely wiggled to the side, Mikey sat down next to him and pulled his knees up to his chest. Even if Donnie had an innate disdain to physical touch, Mikey always had little brother privileges. Mikey knew of these privileges and made sure to use them. Especially in a situation where Donnie was wrong, at that point, Donnie literally couldn’t say no to him.

“Not you, too,” Donnie groaned.

“It’s not unreasonable for us, your brothers, to care about you.” He looked at Donnie with his typical soft eyes, a look hard to deny. Then he rested his head on Donnie’s shoulder. “Especially when you get so defensive.”

You need to derail this, Donatello. Mikey, of all turtles, cannot know.

“I’m just scared you guys are worrying about nothing too much and taking away from your recovery.” Donnie rested an arm over Mikey, his hand falling on his shoulder. It still carried a slight tremor, even when it wasn’t being used. “I’ll admit, sometimes I get a little… overzealous about my worries and I can come off a bit aggressive. But in my defense, it can get a little annoying.”

“What if it isn’t nothing,” Mikey responded quietly. “You’re our science guy, Donnie, you of all people should know that assumptions are made based on what we see. Not necessarily what we’re told. And what you’re showing isn’t in your favor.”

That’s right. Their science guy. He should know the facts and understand the best choices to make.

What a science man, you are. Ignoring your problems and lying to the whole family. What a guy!

A science guy who forgets basic coding and can’t even focus on one conversation anymore. What. A. Guy.

“It is nothing, though.” He said, the illogical grasping for control. Donnie shifted to look at his brother. “I’m not injured, as much as Leo wants to believe, and I’m not really sure how to convince you all of that. You need to stop worrying.” Choke down the lie, keep your voice steady. Donnie’s voice was naturally monotone, so he didn’t quite know what his brain was trying to direct. Just that anxiety, again, making everything scarier than it should.

“We’re always going to worry about you, Donnie. Just like how you worry about us.” Mikey met his brother’s eyes again. “Leo, especially. As a medic, if he sees weird signs of pain or struggle, he’s going to assume the worst.”

“That’s the problem, though. He’s assuming the worst, I’m not suffering any ‘worst’. I’m just tired and busy. And out of shape, as we saw.” He chuckled at the last line. “But all that fear Leo is hoarding is only making him feel worse. He’s the most injured out of us and I’m just trying to make him realize he’s focusing on the wrong things. I want him to get better, not make himself worse by fabricating problems for me.”

Mikey searched his eyes, deeply. Trying to detect any sign of pain, or whatever it was Leo had been searching for. His face showed signs of recognition, like he saw something but couldn’t name it. Sighing, he sat back again. “I can see this is bothering you, Donnie, so,” He contemplated for a moment, “I’m going to make the conscious decision to believe you, and I’ll leave you alone about it. I can’t guarantee Leo will, you how he is, but I’ll be sure to lay back a bit.”

The rude, antagonizing voice in his head was going to have a field day in his head. Making sure his brother believed his lies? Clearly the best moral alignment he would ever get!

“Thank you, Mikey.” Donnie held his little brother close while his heart began to ache.

Deep in his mind, the wall grew higher, grew thicker. The illogical side of Donnie stood, unmoving, consumed by shadow. Dark, rotting roots grappled at his ankles, keeping him there. Some reached for his hands, ready to tie his mind down at its knees. The shadows were ripping his control away, replacing it with its own. Far behind him, like a window in the wall, was a barred up logical side of him. He had long since given up helping, knowing that there was a part of the illogical that was letting this happen. It was easier to lie and pretend he was okay. It kept him from admitting to himself that he was never going to be the same, that these problems were permanent. All the logical did now was complain and insult the illogical. Break him down enough and maybe he’ll break free from anger. But the illogical was pathetic. The logical, rude and unforgiving. But at least the logical was honest. He had already admitted that there were problems, hell, he probably had answers at this point. But he didn’t have control. Illogical shut off any chance of control at the beginning, the fear and anxiety that was always buried deep in Donnie’s heart ravaging the land of his mind. It controlled the illogical, made him act… well, illogically. He probably knew that the logical could fix his problems, but what if that hurt?

Certainly, it would hurt more than whatever the illogical was already doing.

Chapter Text

Once the two teenagers had shown up, the tension in the Hamato house eased up. Mikey and Donnie had made up, though one was faring significantly better than the other. Mikey had moved on, but Donnie, locked away in his lab, listened to his logical mind degrade and slander his every waking move and decision. Especially since he was staring at the same code from earlier that day, still incapable of fixing the error. Of course, he could easily look up what to do, but that would be admitting defeat, and there was no way that was happening.

As his mind drifted, Donnie remembered something Leo had said during their prior argument.

"You're grumpy every time we talk, if you’re not, you run off so soon after like you’re trying to get away from us.”

Donnie cringed. Leo was right, as much as it hurt to admit. He wanted to be with his friends once they got there, but now that they were, he was too scared to see them. Why? He didn’t know. Like so many things recently, there was a looming fear he couldn’t identify and it was driving him crazy. He was always the one to provide a logical way out, the realistic view on a situation, but now ‘reality’ was a game of chance, apparently.

You’re being quite suspicious, Donnie. They’re already catching onto you, but now that you’re running away… well, you won’t be able to hide it much longer.

Donnie groaned, slamming his hands on his desk and standing up. Galileo damn his brain. What a curse it was becoming. He grabbed his staff and left his lab, his hips immediately fighting back. His walk was becoming more and more uneven as the days passed. Some days he limped, some days he didn’t. Some days he couldn’t walk for longer than two minutes before his legs and hips burned beyond comparison. Even standing was difficult. But as long as he was upright, he’d be able to hide it.

The kitchen was full of chatter, Mikey cooking something over the stove that was causing the sugary aroma that wafted into the lair, April sharing stories about her current college dealings, Splinter was comparing them to his “golden days”, as he called them. They were happy. 

Donnie sauntered in as relaxed as he could be, though his hips felt like unoiled machinery. Mikey turned around at the sound of the metal staff tapping gently on the tile and gave his brother a smile. Donnie gave the best response he could, but eyes weighed heavy on his face, making it difficult to appear as anything but mildly annoyed. All of the seats were taken, so Donnie took a stance against the counter, leaning back and crossing his right leg over his left. Standing like this, he knew, would begin to eat at his knees within a minute, but if he was going to convince people that he was okay, he’d have to look the part.

Shameful liar .

“Donnie!” April slapped her hands on the table, “You’re not going to believe the amount of useless work my Organic Chemistry class is demanding for my exam.”

Ah, Organic Chemistry. It was his favorite topic to learn when he was eight years old. “What are you in O-chem for? You’re a journalism major.”

This response gathered a few strange eyes. Oh, damnit. What did I do wrong?

“For advanced knowledge of science-based news. Those were some freaky chemicals I found. Didn’t I tell you this?” 

Donnie cleared his throat and looked around, avoiding his brother’s stares. “You are correct, April. I apologize, it merely slipped my mind.” When did she mention that again…?

A good guess would be when she registered for classes, dimwit, what do you think? Use your brain, science guy.

It came back to him, slightly. They hadn’t spoken much about her classes, due to the whole world invasion thing, it wasn’t much of a topic of interest. But she was taking O-Chem II, so he should have known this. He was certainly present during her time in O-Chem I, which caused more concern that he couldn’t remember much of it.

“Eh, whatever, you’ve been busy.” At least April could understand that. Donnie couldn’t help but give Leo a snide look after hearing that, wishing he would believe the same. “But anyway, I desperately need your help with reviewing my material. I am actually losing my mind.”

“I would be honored. My schedule is always open for you.”

“ Perfect , I have my stuff with me, would you be down to work on it later?” Donnie nodded and let the conversation fall back to what it was. Casey, apparently, was still grappling with the idea that even after high school, people still had to study to get a decent job. Apparently, he had been under the impression that the first thirteen years of school was all it took. He was quickly an avid hater of student loans.

After a few minutes, Mikey pulled open the fridge to take out a carton of milk. Apparently, he had been making caramel, though he refused to say what for. Unscrewing the cap, he was met with a painfully pungent smell. He recoiled, almost dropping the carton. “Oh, gross!” He put the cap back and looked for the expiration date on the plastic. “Eugh boy, we were not paying attention to that… expired two weeks ago.”

“Two weeks ago?” Raph said, “but Raph drank some of that a few days ago…” At a few aggressively turned heads, “not sick though, all good.” He put his hands up in defense.

“Well then why did it go bad so fast?” Mikey asked, probably to himself, but Donnie could never refuse a moment to spew useless information.

“The psychotropic bacteria, probably. It was likely exposed to warmer temperatures for too long, so that bacteria started multiplying and, well I’m sure we all know, the lactic acid develops and-”

“I’m gonna stop you there, Dee.” Mikey dropped the carton into the trash. “That’s fine, I’ll just use your half and half instead. It’ll be a bit thinner, but nothing I can’t work with.”

“Hey, but that’s for my coffee!”

“You’ll survive.”

Debatable.

“You drink coffee with other stuff in it?” Casey chimed in, “my Uncle Tello always drank black coffee. He said it was superior.” 

“A man of good taste, I assure you. Creamer is strictly reserved for any coffee past 4 PM, at the demand of my overcautious brothers.” Leo rolled his eyes at the comment. “But, I suppose that rule goes out the window in the case of an apocalypse.”

His left leg began to shake from his body’s pressure, so he switched his weight onto his right leg. This was turning out to be much more painful than he intended. Keep it up for a bit longer, then all will be well . 

All of the conversations that floated between the Hamato family and friends began to feel muddled in Donnie’s head. He couldn’t keep track of one topic, sometimes the words would fizzle out within seconds. He would absentmindedly agree to brief opinions, but nothing that got him hooked with one person. He stood there, a mere figment of himself as he tried to hang onto his thoughts. The pain welled up in his hips, but he couldn’t leave. It would be too strange. 

So, instead, he stood against the counter, letting the pain swallow him. Every conversation went barely noticed and if any one of them tried to get his attention, Donnie failed to notice. The only thing that kept him present was the sweet smell of Mikey’s baking. At some point along the way, Donnie realized he was making caramel corn from scratch, which was cute. He wasn’t sure if he gathered that from his own information or if that was revealed to the family in a dramatic Mikey fashion.

It wasn’t until Leo was waving a hand in front of Donnie that his brain finally clocked in. “DonTron, you alive in there?”

“Hm? Oh,” He blinked a few times, noticing the concerned look on Casey and Leo’s face. “Yeah, what’s up?”

Leo stared at him, raising his eyebrows. “Dude,” he said, exasperated. “Do you wanna go to Hueso’s with us or not?”

Oh, no wonder Mikey and Raph weren’t there anymore. They must have left to get ready. How long had he been standing there, absently? “I’ll have to miss out on this trip. I’ll go help April with her school work.”

Leo narrowed his eyes, “I’m going to get extra pineapple on the pizza.”

“Do as you please,” Donnie said without thinking, waving him off. He pushed himself from the counter and took a hold of his staff. He forced himself to walk to the living room, anticipating April’s follow. He didn’t stick around long enough to see Leo’s aghast expression, his reaction utterly out of character. 

____________

The two were laying on the floor of Donnie’s lab, papers spread out in front of them. Donnie was sitting with his legs crossed and April was on her stomach with her feet kicking around in the air. “No, if it’s based on the different separation points of the carbon chain, its mass spectroscopy.” Donnie pointed to one of the models on April's study packet. A table with increasing numbers and sets of vertical lines at each spot. “That’s the mass spec. This, ” he moved to the sheet in front of them, “is NMR spectra.”

April groaned, dragging her hands through her hair. “They look identical, I swear.”

Donnie chuckled, “just look at the bottom of the graphs. NMR has zero at the right side, it’s increasing in the opposite direction. Also the numbers aren’t as consistent.”

“Okay, but you said that mass spec is based on the separation points of carbons, is that not what NMR is?”

“No, NMR is based on the bonds of carbons.”

April stared at him. “With other carbons?”

“Yes, but different groups of carbons. So it depends on how many hydrogens are connected to one group of carbon. Then,” he uses a pencil to circle different hydrogens connected to a single carbon. “All of the hydrogens on the primary carbon are counted as one, but then the neighboring hydrogens are all unique. You just add them together.”

“That’s too many words… This is the only topic I’m even mildly understanding and I’m still struggling.” She hung her head while her hands fell to the ground.

“How’s your grasp on 13 C NMR?”

April brought her head up with a blank expression. “Okay? I think?” She brought her elbows underneath her and propped herself up. “It’s based on the unique carbon groups. So the different hydrogens or other chemicals bonded to them?”

Donnie nodded. He pulled a paper in front of them, a practice sheet that April had barely started. “Work through these two, talk me through them.”

April looked at the multiple choice answers that were tied to a graph. “Four lines, so four unique carbon groups…” she mutters. She started circling individual groups on the answers, immediately knocking off two options that only had three groups. She stared at the remaining two. “So how do I decide which one it is?”

He rotated the page to face him and looked at the two options. His brain stopped. “Uhh,” he started, trying to reason with it. Both had oxygen groups, which was the first problem. He looked at the different hydrogen groups, but every reasoning he tried to make didn’t match up with the graph.

Come on, Donnie, you’re supposed to be good at this. What’s the answer?

He started drawing out the chemicals on a spare piece of paper, hoping stronger visuals would help, but even after drawing out each carbon with each respective hydrogen, not a single accurate thought came to him.

“Don?” April asked, confused as to why this was taking so long.

Don’t do this to me now, he pleaded.

“Is it because of the different hydrogens that are attached to the unique carbons?” April asked. “Decoupling or something.”

“Wait, but,” he mumbled, “I’m not sure hydrogens impact 13 C NMR that much, not enough to impact the graph to this extent.”

“Well, then it has to be something with the oxygens?”

“Yeah, I think so?” He hated how unsure he felt. He kept circling back to the hydrogens, unsure of which method was accurate. This was supposed to be his specialty. Sure, he preferred engineering now, but when he was a kid, chemistry was his best topic. He was so passionate, he used to be able to recall all of this information at the drop of a coin. He still used in-depth concepts like this every now and then, without problems. So why was he struggling now?

April pulled out her phone and quickly typed something into her phone once Donnie was silent for another minute. She read through something briefly, scanning over familiar words before she smiled. “Oh!” She took the paper back, “it’s this one.” She circled one of her answers. Donnie froze. “See, because of the oxygen here.” She pointed to the oxygen that had two lines connected to a carbon, instead of a single line.

“But both formulas have an oxygen in them, why is that one-” Because of the double bond, idiot. Get it together . “Because of the double bonded oxygen? I thought that the double bond would push it closer, not further.” That’s with other specs, not this  one. Remember? He didn’t.

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure that’s why.” She started drawing over the lines in the graph. “Then the length of these are connected to each hydrogen connected to the other carbons. Turns out they do matter a little more.” Her tone was meant to be joking, to be sweet and understanding. But all Donnie heard was mocking. She continued walking through the reasoning but her voice disappeared as Donnie’s ears began to ring.

It was so simple.

So simple . All it would take any other competent scientist was a quick look at the chemicals. Donnie should have been able to answer that question in seconds. Not sit there, looking at it like it was foreign material, unable to identify the most basic of topics.

How stupid can you be? You’re really letting this defeat you? You’re pathetic.

His chest started to squeeze as he absently stared at the paper. April kept working, kept talking. What was wrong with him? Why couldn’t he just do the work? He was supposed to be good at science. That’s what he was there for, that was his purpose. Science. Being smart. But now, he felt the exact opposite of that.

Not aware of what she was saying, April muttered to herself, “this stuff is the worst. Even Donnie couldn’t understand it, and that’s saying something.”

Even Donnie couldn’t understand it.

But Donnie could understand it. He did, at least.

He did? Why was this past tense? He never forgot his science, it was his favorite thing. He devoted his life to science, dedicated every day, every effort, to it. Now it was leaving him? What was going to be left for him if science was no longer an option? There were no other options. That’s all he was good for.

So far gone, you’re losing your worth. The logical sang, behind rusted bars. 

The illogical couldn’t answer. He didn’t know how.

Just like how you don’t know science anymore? Do you even know anything now? Or did your pathetic lies suck that away, too?

Shut up. Shut up, please, just shut up. I’m trying.

Maybe try a little harder. You’re not doing enough.

Donnie’s eyes began to sting.

Oh great, now you’re crying . You get weaker everyday.

With the best timing he could think of, he heard his brothers return from their pizza run. “Ooo, food! My brain needs a break.” April sat up, swinging her legs out in front of her. “Don, you coming?”

He barely shook his head, “No, that’s okay. I’m not hungry.” He admitted quietly. April said something in protest but Donnie didn’t hear her. Once she left, Donnie stared at the floor. Every question he looked at, he felt the answer just out of reach. He reached, straining his mental arms, desperately trying to cling to his knowledge. But the knowledge danced from his grasp, leaving him a haunting song to make sure he knew what he was losing. The papers became a reminder of his failure the longer he looked at them. He could almost hear them laughing at him. Maybe he was laughing at himself. He would understand why, his idiocy was becoming a joke. He was a joke.

He stood, the searing pain in legs an afterthought as he dragged himself to his desk. He needed something. Something to sooth his deprecating thoughts. Something to assure him that he wasn’t losing his mind. The monitors lit up with a quiet hum. Hardly in control, he pulled up that same damn system from earlier that day. Surely, he would remember now. Surely something, anything , would come to him.

But nothing did. It all began to look like random numbers. Commands with no purpose, a direction with no road.

This is meaningless. You’re meaningless.

The tears appeared, soft but obstructive. As one fell, it landed on his keyboard. He lifted a hesitant hand to his cheek, realising he wasn’t imagining the tears. He was actually crying.

Wow. You know, we could have prevented this. But you’re so sensitive . So stupid. You just had to do it this way. You had to keep your symptoms away, had to hide and lie about everything. And now look at us! You’re beyond the point of getting help. You’re a pathetic excuse for a scientist. A pathetic excuse for anything, really.

He sniffed. His hands dropped from his keyboard. Unknowingly, he dragged himself out of the lab. Just out of view of his boisterous brothers, he crept into his room. He stood there, in the dark, unmoving. What was he doing here? Just giving up?

Yes. That’s exactly what he was doing.

Giving up.

The logical part of him had already given up. That part was the only good side of him, he began to think. The part that made the right choices, the one that wasn’t manipulated by the shadows of doubt and fear. So why should he keep fighting if the stupid, annoying, illogical part of him was in control. Might as well succumb to it and let it take over. He’d find something, right? If he didn’t, he might as well exist to reap the consequences of his stupid actions. He’d lose his purpose and he’d face it. He made this choice. Stupid decisions have consequences.

He crawled into his bed, his head falling onto the pillow.

His conscience continued to fight, the words like a new wound every time it spoke.

At the same time, the shadows of his mind continued to build that wall. In that moment, that small, barred up window that the logical spoke through, was plastered over. Silenced. Now no part of him would sit there, endlessly insulting him until he felt there was nothing left to insult. Now, there was simply nothing left.

The logical and illogical were still one of the same. Still Hamato Donatello. Even without the logical hurling insults, the illogical still felt the failure. He felt the pain and realization of his loss. He felt the guilt, the disappointment in himself, the confusion of what he was suffering.

The logical had given him something to fight, something to spite. But with that voice gone, the illogical could only succumb to its numbness, to its call for the release of control.

Donnie lay motionless for another minute. Letting the emotions wash over him like a sea of poison. He could do nothing else but cry himself to sleep, the sobs ripping at his lungs until he couldn’t breathe. His eyes and nose were raw from rubbing away the tears and snot. He shoved his face into the blankets, begging not to be heard. He was pathetic. He couldn’t let his family see him this way, but at this point, there was nothing he could do to stop it. He was losing himself.

Chapter Text

The mind had become a wasteland of overgrown vines, not even the idea of blowing winds could be heard. Devoid of any light, the rotting plants covered the ground with their spiked arms. The wall was built up high, to the point where it began to tilt and tremble. But it was still standing. Brick after brick fell upon the previous, the motivation of the builder growing slower. Yet the sluggish movements didn't stop. Nothing was telling it to cease, so it continued with the one order it understood. Build that wall until all of your shame is invisible.

A mound of vines could be seen, its movement faint and distant. With a close eye, the turtle sitting at his knees could be viewed. With legs and arms bleeding from the horned foliage digging into the skin, he was tied down. He stared absently at the ground, resting in a puddle of blood and tears. No one was there to speak to him, there was nothing for him to think about except the decisions that led him there. It was his fault, after all. Had he been better, had he been stronger, had he been smarter, had he thought without bias for just a moment, maybe he could have saved himself. Perhaps it would have all been better. There was no out, no freedom, no saving from this nightmare. 

This was where he was. This is where he was: stuck.

A thoughtless wasteland where nothing mattered. Where the air was cold and bitter to the taste. Where the ground made him bleed yet he couldn't let go. Every time the thorns dug deeper, he'd curl in further on himself, feeling the burn and prick of the pain he deserved.

With shadows harrowing over him, his distance grew further. He didn't know how long it had been since he fell, since he let go of his control. But his exterior hadn't moved, he had hardly thought at all for an unknown time. The absence of light darkened his heart and mind, shame and guilt taking over. At what point had he lost it all? When did the illogical take his place as the leader? Why had the logical given up so fast? Maybe it was when he thought ‘being strong’ was hiding away his pain. Maybe it was when he thought his pain was worth less than his brothers. Maybe it was when he insisted his strength came from how useful he was. Maybe… 

Maybe…

Maybe… 

The ‘maybes’ didn't matter. Whenever or however, it doesn't change the fact that they got there.

There, an endless void that sapped all life away. It fed on whatever joy was present until it dried up, leaving the lands barren of any light.

Just beyond that wall, the turtle knew there was light. A bright, warm, and fulfilling light that would revive all that he had lost. But there was no way to climb the wall, no way to take it down, no way to escape. So the light was nothing more than a taunt. A tease of the happiness that he’d lost. A happiness he condemned, one that he gave up. All for some stupid, idiotic pride that benefited everyone but himself. 

Donnie wasn't used to the overwhelming feeling of nothing. He could hardly understand how complete absence constituted as a feeling. But he was numb. Completely numb. Empty and unmoving. He felt no joy, no anger, no sadness, no annoyance, no nothing. Time and time again, he tried to will himself to feel something, but even that wasn't strong enough. With no will to move, no motivation to exist beyond his bed, he laid there all day, his movement limited to the toss and turns of his sleepless nights or the frail response to the pulsating pain. He could hardly bring himself to care about the pain as it enveloped his whole body. Starting from the hip, the agonizing burn rippled outward, making his legs feel like anchors, his shoulders like rusting locks, and made his muscles feel like he was being grated from the inside out. It was overbearing at first, but with the empty wasteland that provided a numb mind, his body followed suit and the pain became an afterthought. Without an inch of him living painless, his empty mind considered it the new normal. Only the natural instincts of his body could respond, with no assistance from his conscience. He’d never get better, he’d never get back what he lost.

He had lost track of when the day began, but he knew it had been a while since anyone had come into his room. Mikey came first, a call for breakfast. He quickly dismissed himself when he caught sight of Donnie still sleeping. Except he wasn’t asleep. He had woken up earlier. For how long, he didn’t know. Donnie continued to stare at his wall or simply keep his eyes shut for hours, hardly a word crossing his mind. Occasionally, he’d recognize his numbness, but there was nothing more. Occasionally, he tried to make himself feel something, but there was nothing for him to think about. So he gave up.

Then Raph came. He tried to prompt a response from Donnie but he couldn’t muster the energy to speak. He didn’t really need to, it’s not like he could provide anything. There was no point in reacting. There was no point in anything. He didn't want the attention, anyway. 

__________

The young boy hung off the back of his Sensei's neck, kicking his legs as they walked to the dinner table. Master Leonardo was talking about his day, rambling about some bug infestation they encountered on a supply run, which Casey swiftly tuned out. Apocalypse or not, bugs were nasty. His vision drifted towards his Uncle Angelo, who just let his feet drop to the floor in a gentle fall from his levitating position. 

When Junior was young, he took to calling his uncle “Angel”, having issues with phonetics being part of it. Either way, his uncle had a bright, orange glow to him every  now and then. It only seemed fitting, at the time. His family always laughed at that, but seeing as the turtle could fly, it didn't feel too off the mark to call him that.

His Uncle Raph was already seated, his big body taking up a full side of the table. His Uncle Tello was at the counter, making something Casey couldn't see.

Just before Leonardo sat down, he wrapped his arms around the little boy and pulled him forward. “Alright, enough of that. You're gonna strangle me and we can't afford to lose this gorgeous face of mine.” His sensei sat down and placed Casey in his lap. 

“It wouldn't cost us much.” Donatello said, taking his seat with what Casey thought was his sixth cup of coffee of the day. Seeing as it was only 6 PM, he was certain there'd be another cup or two in the turtle's wake.

Leo gasped, placed a hand dramatically on his chest. “How dare you, sir, insinuate that I'm not the most gorgeous turtle you've ever seen.”

Uncle Raph let out a hearty laugh, “Can't say there's many turtles we've seen aside from ourselves.”

“Exactly,” Casey's Sensei flipped his mask tails, “and I mean no harm, but I clearly got the best genes in the family.”

“ Clearly ,” Uncle Tello said with his mug up to his face, a ceramic piece that read ‘#1 Genius’, “those sub-par genetics of yours didn’t carry over into your brain.”

“Sub-par?? You insult both me and our father? Shame, Donnie, shaaame. You're just jealous I got the best physical genes out of us.” He paused and laughed a moment when his twin pressed his mouth into a thin line and rolled his eyes. “Definitely the best physical genes.”

In response, Raph scoffed jokingly and lightly whacked Leo's arm. “Don't be mean, Leo.”

Casey looked up at his Sensei, “What do you mean?” His little voice was so sweet, a song of encouragement to anyone who heard him.

Leo ruffled the child's hair, “Oh, nothing, Uncle Donnie is just mad he's uglier than I am.”

Donatello hummed, taking another sip of his coffee. “Junior, do me a favor and don't inherit his ego… I don't need two of you running around.”

Casey looked at his family with a blissful smile on his face. Mikey was preparing food while laughing at the silly interaction as the other three continued to joke.

It was a bittersweet memory for Casey, one full of joy and the feeling that everything was okay. But in reality, it was one of the last times all four brothers would be in the same room together. As he thought of the memory, he wished he had hugged his Uncles a bit tighter that day. A soft, small smile crossed his lips.

Then one of Master Leonardo's lines kept playing in his head.

“Definitely the best physical genes.” He whispered under his breath, trying to figure out what was setting him off. His words combined with Donnie's response made him think. Obviously it would have been physical if they were referencing Leo's looks, so why the emphasis?

He didn't realize it as a kid, assuming it was some sort of repetitive joke. Leo had a tendency to do that, making himself laugh at his own creativity. But after the recent dealings with the new Leo and Donnie, something clicked in his head.

Casey sat up quickly, sucking in a sharp breath through his nose. Across the couch, Cassandra looked up from her phone, a hockey game playing quietly in the background. Still unsure of how to treat Casey, being her future, now roughly the same age son, she gave him a thumbs up with an inquisitive look. He smiled and returned the gesture. He quickly pulled out his phone and entered Leo’s contact. Typing a quick message, he hoped his realization would provide some answers and solace, or at least a start.

_____________

Leo knew all too well what this was.

The heavy, overpowering weight of emotional turmoil. The kind of pain that made everything feel pointless. Worthless.

At first, they had checked on Donnie in the morning. Seeing him still in bed, the brothers figured he was sleeping late. Finally catching up on the nights he lost to his endless thoughts. But when the afternoon came and Donnie was yet to move, a hesitant fear shadowed the other three. Maybe they would have let it be if Donnie had shown any sign of movement from the day, but he hadn’t. Never was a light turned on, never were there foot steps, even his blankets looked identical between the hours of time difference. Donnie hadn’t moved. He wouldn’t respond when spoken to. He wasn’t eating or drinking.

Leo had experienced this before, some time after being named the leader. Though, he’d admit, he got good at hiding it. Which was the problem. Leo had better control over the presentation of his emotions, less so the actual dealing with them. He felt the pain of feeling like he was worthless, not good enough, but hid it away from his family because he figured it would be too much of a burden. His thoughts were dark, concerning even to himself at times. He hid it all under the shield of bad humor and over compensational ego. He kept everything locked away until it was seemingly too late, throwing himself into the Prison Dimension as a way to escape his own thoughts. It was bad. Donnie, on the other hand, didn’t really have strong enough emotions to demand this kind of response. So, Leo could only imagine what was going on inside that brain of his to elicit a depressive episode. What could have happened?

Leo was getting very worried.

A deep pit of anxiety began eating away at Leo’s stomach every time he thought about what could have happened. He remembered their fight. Aside from asking Donnie if he wanted to go to Hueso's, that brief two minute interaction, the last thing he had done to his twin was degrade him for being shut off and called him a bitch. What a brother he was turning into.

He was supposed to be helping his brothers, especially Donnie. Not only was he a medic, but he still carried guilt about the invasion. Granted, he was dutifully working that out in his individual therapy sessions with Mikey, but that didn’t mean little bits of guilt came and went. He felt partially responsible for the injuries they all suffered, so he was supposed to be healing with and for them.

Leo had known, or at least theorized, that Donnie was going through something serious. Instead of being there for him, like he intended, he antagonized him. He was aggressive and pushy. He couldn’t help but fear that he may have been part of the reason Donnie was suffering. Leo felt like he was making everything worse. He had already hurt Donnie enough with the invasion. The sight of his shell, which Leo only saw in pictures, was horrific. A bloody sight of rips and tears. Sourced from what could only have been the worst sensory overload of his twin's life.

It was all Leo’s fault.

Maybe everything would be better if I had stayed in the Priso-

“No!” He said out loud, clapping his hands over his tympanum. “Don’t fall back into that, Leo, that’s not going to help.” He vigorously shook his head, his voice slightly strained. 

He had to talk about it. That’s what Mikey said. The second his depressive and overall harming thoughts hit, he needed to express it.

A familiar, haunting voice began to ring in his head as he stood from his bed.

Weak words.

“Get out of your room, Leo, go find Mikey.” He breathed heavily.

Weak actions.

“Kraang Prime is gone,” He muttered, feeling his head start to spin. He forced his weak legs to move, forgetting his crutches. Mikey’s room wasn’t far, it would only take a minute of his pained limping.

When he stood at his little brother's door, he nearly collapsed. Thankfully, he kept himself up just long enough to fall onto a bean bag chair.

“Leo!” Mikey watched and was about to pull himself from his bed before Leo raised a hand to stop him.

“No, it’s okay.” He huffed a dense breath, “just moved too fast.”

Mikey sat back, “then what’s wrong?”

He grimaced, “I’m hearing that voice again.”

Mikey’s eyes widened, “Do I need to go get Raph?”

Leo shook his head. “No need, I know why it’s coming back. I just wanted to talk about it.”

Mikey looked proud as his shoulders relaxed. “Okay, what’s going on?”

The turtle in blue took a deep breath. “I’m worried about Donnie, and I think in my intention of helping and finding out what’s wrong with him, I got too ambitious and started expressing said fear… negatively.” Leo started fiddling with his hands, pressing into his palms as a way to calm himself. “Before he fell into whatever this is, I kinda got in a fight with him, and now I’m worried that I contributed to it.”

“That’s why you’re hearing the voice again?”

He nodded, “I still get the guilt and even though we worked on it in the family therapy, I’m still worried that he’s injured because of something that happened in the invasion that went unnoticed. So, I’m afraid that it’s my fault. Then the voice came back and I freaked out.”

Mikey hummed. “Okay, I see where you’re coming from. Donnie’s been pretty adamant about not having anything wrong with him-”

“Then what’s going on now?” Leo threw his hands up.

Mikey tilted his head as his expression fell flat. “Let me finish.” Leo looked away, a little embarrassed. “As I was saying, he’s been insistent that he’s okay for a while. Whether or not that’s true, we can’t force him to talk to us. That’s not how he works. With our current situation, I don’t know what’s wrong with him. But, I can say with some confidence, that you didn’t cause it. You and Donnie fight all of the time. You bicker and argue about little things, you both get mad at each other for decisions. It’s the nature of you two. I don’t think whatever you said would have sparked something this intense.”

Leo huffed, “then what do we do?”

“We support him.” Mikey had a sad smile, “In any way that we can. Maybe that means believing him when he says he’s okay. We have to trust our brother. He’s smart, I’m sure he knows what he’s doing.”

“But what if that's not enough? This is bad enough as is, I don't want him to get worse.”

“What makes you think it's going to get worse?” The question was posed genuinely, in the voice Dr. Feelings always presented, not in a doubtful way. Mikey was trying to break down Leo's fears, find the root, address the problem.

“Because of what happened to me, Mikey. I'm seeing patterns.” Just then, Leo's t-phone went off with a gentle buzz. It was a message from Casey.

‘What if it's something genetic?’

Leo paused, a delay in realizing what he was talking about. He was about to respond asking for context when he understood.

That's why Donnie never had any mystic complications show up. That's why he never had injuries appear on his scans.

It was genetic .

There was no way to see what it was if it didn't present itself physically. 

Leo stood, suddenly. The pinch of pain that reverberated down his leg made him regret his earlier haste– those crutches would be helpful now. 

“I gotta go,” Leo said abruptly. 

Mikey, still in the middle of talking, looked at him strangely. “Wait, but we're not done!”

“I'm not running from the conversation, we can continue this later, but this is super important.” He hobbled off, first returning to his room to grab his mobility aids, and went to find his father.

As usual, Splinter was sitting in the living room, watching his dramatic shows. He sat back with a bowl of popcorn at his side, some of the remaining caramel corn Mikey had made the previous day.

“Hey, pops?” Leo drew out his words, peaking around the side of his fathers chair to look at him. 

Splinter grabbed his remote once he saw his son and paused the show. “Yes, blue?”

“I have some questions regarding the Hamatos.”

Splinter narrowed his eyes, “We’re getting to some juicy details in my show, is this going to take long?”

Leo shook his head, “No, I was just wondering if you knew of any genetic syndromes or conditions that run in our family?”

“Genetic conditions?” His head jerked back in confusion, “not off the top of my head. Why?”

“Just curious. You think you can ask the ol’ ancestors tonight? Just in case, you know?” 

Splinter did not know. “Okay,” he responded suspiciously. When Leo only smiled his overly cheeky grin, Splinter waved him off with a slight chuckle.

Satisfied, Leo returned to his room. He typed a response to Casey, saying that he’d begun looking into it.

Leo was going to figure out what was wrong with his twin, no matter what. That emotionally unavailable bad boy was going to be emotionally available eventually. Leo felt like he was working on a timer. That wall was growing more and more unstable by the day. He knew it. A twin sense, if anything. Leo was not, and could not, sit by and watch his brother fall down the same life-deafening pain that he had. He didn’t know how much effort it would take but he wasn’t going to give up until he had answers. If he had to force them out of Donnie, he would.

Chapter Text

The mechanical door slid open a few seconds after he had knocked. It was a useful addition Donnie had added a while back, but Mikey wished his brother would answer it himself every now and then. The scene unveiled, Donnie was still laying the dark shadows of his room, confined to his bed. It was strange not hearing a light buzz from his two monitors, they were almost always on when Donnie was inside, but now, they had shut down and kept their silence, much like the rest of the room. The only noise that could be heard was the distant breathing of Mikey's older brother.

“Morning, Donnie!” Mikey said, mustering up as much positivity as he could for his sulking brother. “Brought you some breakfast: two pieces of plain toast, some apple slices, and your favorite flavorless juice.” As he approached Donnie's bedside table, he saw the dinner plate he had left last night. None of the food had been eaten. He sighed, replacing the plates and setting aside the old food to peek into Donnie's bed. He fished out the water bottle he had left, praying that Donnie would at least remain mildly hydrated. To his surprise, the water bottle was empty. “I'll be right back with more water, okay?”

With no response, Mikey grabbed the expired dinner and left the room, a sinking feeling infesting his chest. Donnie needed to eat something or else he was going to get sick. At least he was drinking water, but that wouldn't be enough. Donnie was smart, he should know this. He had his sensory needs, which Mikey understood and always worked with, but blatantly going without food wasn't okay. Mikey was worried, but he kept himself calm. Surely Donnie would manage. He trusted his brother, though a miniscule fear began growing in his mind.

In the kitchen, Mikey hummed a quiet song as he filled the water bottle. Maybe dinner wasn't simple enough yesterday? But that didn’t make sense, Donnie was always fine with quesadillas, it was bread and cheese for him, there's hardly much more to simplify. He'd try something more simple later, then.

When Mikey returned to the dark room, he noticed Donnie hadn't moved one bit. He wasn't even sure if his brother was awake. “Here you are,” he spoke quietly as he rested the water bottle next to Donnie's pillow. “Just give me a text when you run out, okay?”

No response. 

Mikey took a heavy breath, “If you need anything, or just want to talk, I'm here for you.” Donnie didn’t move. “Alright, um, I'm gonna go, but… I love you, Donnie.”

The small box turtle couldn't force a smile as he turned around. If Donnie needed time, then he'd give it to him. Even if it hurt when he refused to speak. 

_____________

The illogical had fallen, the vines gripping violently onto his shoulders, tearing into his skin as they dragged him into the ground. He lay, tear stained cheeks and shivering body, unable to fight against the growing foliage. They wrapped around his every limb, encasing him in a casket of overgrowth. 

He’d lost most of the control over his body, his thoughts hardly his own. Who could he listen to, except the harrowing shadows that darkened his home, that ripped away his thoughts, that made him feel like nothing more than a husk of a man who deserved nothing but hatred and death.

It fed him poisonous words of failure and loss, grasping his worth like handles that drove him further and further from himself. With pressure like a scalding iron, the shadows branded him with doubt, the searing pain in the mind reflected itself in the agonizing burn of his physical body.

Donnie could hardly move, all of his desire to exist fading away. He was worthless. That’s what the shadows had fed his mind. If he couldn’t fight, what kind of Hamato could he be? If he couldn’t be a scientist, then what was he worth at all? There was nothing left for him to be except a shell of someone who used to exist.

Logically, he knew he had stirred from his unpleasant rotting to go to the bathroom, late at night. Donnie damned his body for allowing biology to control him. Logic aside, he couldn’t recall one moment from his departure. He moved with the guide of someone he wasn’t, running on instinct and the desire to return to his empty bed. Since then, he had remained still.

Someone had left him a water bottle that evening before, and though he didn’t want to, Donnie drank the stale liquid just to keep himself running. But he couldn't eat. He didn’t feel like he could, either he didn’t deserve it or he knew his body couldn’t take it. It was just so much energy. Too much energy. It would take all that he had left.

He heard his brother enter his room, the slicing sound of his door ringing alarms in his head, the noise a painful reminder of what he was. His words were distant, Donnie’s mind crowded with fog and the inability to process anything. He felt Mikey dig around in his bed, the movement irritating to his muscles. Then it was quiet, a freedom Donnie awaited, but was not quite blessed with, as his brother returned soon after. He spoke a few more words, still distant, but eventually, something slipped through. “I love you, Donnie.” He had said. Donnie’s face flinched, the only movement he’d felt in a while.

You wouldn't love me if you knew how useless I've become.

____________

Leo excessively blinked his lashes at his father as he hobbled into the kitchen. “Good morning, my dear ol’ pops.”

“Good morning, Blue… why are you looking at me like that?” He eyed his strange son while he grabbed around the fridge for a carton of milk. Leo graciously handed his dad the box of cereal he was about to look for. He took it, his narrowing gaze becoming more suspicious.

“How was the chat with the ancestors? Any fun knowledge for me?”

Splinter sighed a heavy breath, “Right, your odd request.” Once his bowl of cereal was completed, he began to walk to the living room, waving Leo to follow him. “I can’t say they gave me all that much information.”

“Oh, boo, don’t tell me that.” He tried to joke, but Leo was worried he’d actually have little information.

“But they gave me some.” Splinter said, hopping onto his recliner. “We don’t have an extensive list of medical histories, apparently we’re a decently healthy family. But, they did tell me that there were one or two Hamatos that had Sickle Cell Anemia, a couple that had Hashimotos, one ancestor that had Lupus, and one person a while back with Spinal Muscular Atrophy.” Leo nodded slowly, maintaining eye contact with Splinter. “Does that satisfy your curiosity?”

Leo shrugged, “It’ll get me somewhere further than I was before!”

Honestly, it didn’t help much . Sickle Cell was often presented very early on in life, so that removed that option. Similarly, Spinal Muscular Atrophy would have already altered Donnie’s life many years ago, so that was also marked off. From what Leo knew about Hashimoto's and Lupus, they could both very well be options. He felt as though Lupus might be a bit of a stretch, as Donnie wasn’t presenting any physical differences, but it was worth a thought. If anything, the presence of those running in the family proved one thing. Donnie was in pain. Likely chronic pain, which made Leo’s stomach drop, imaging the kind of agony his twin must have been in.

To spend Leo’s time before physical therapy, he read through some of his beat-up medical books to further investigate options. He never paid much attention to genetic conditions, as it was never something that crossed his mind. He had always assumed being mutant turtles would override that possibility. He should have kept up more.

When Draxum finally arrived at their home, he was surprised to see Leo already awaiting him. “Leonardo? I’ve never seen you so eager for physical therapy…”

“Oh, I’m not. In the slightest. However,” Leo smiled his cheeky smile, “I need to pick your brain for a minute.”

“Goodie.” Draxum groaned, setting down his stuff and starting up the monitors. “What do you want?”

“Let’s talk genetics.” Leo folded his hands over his knee, which he so gracefully crossed over his other leg. He listed off the conditions Splinter had mentioned, revealed his analyses, restated Donnie’s situation, and waited for a response from Draxum.

The scientist thought quietly before setting up a monitor. “Well,” he cleared his throat, “if you wanted to test for Hashimoto's and Lupus, all we would need to do is some blood tests, really. Alongside some physical tests.”

“That easy?”

“I suppose, but,” He typed something into the search bar, “there are some things that could be mistaken for Lupus. A few conditions here and there that your family never picked up on that he could have.”

“Go on.”

“Could be Rheumatoid Arthritis, Fibromyalgia, Myalgic Encephalomyelitis, etcetera. All some things that could have gone under the radar, passed up to be just pain and exhaustion. Some more than others, of course. Myalgic Encephalomyelitis is only sometimes painful, not everyone and typically not chronic, so that’s probably off the table.” He paused, “well, Donatello could very well still have it, but it’s not the one you’re looking for.”

“That’s a big word.”

“Otherwise known as Chronic Fatigue Syndrome.”

“Oh, okay. I know arthritis, but what about Fibromyalgia?”

Draxum took a deep breath and cracked his knuckles, “It’s a chronic condition. Not one that’s all that understood, unfortunately. It’s characterized by muscle pain, fatigue, and sleep complications. There are more symptoms that are more dependent on the person, like irritability, other emotional disturbances, and something called fibro-fog .” Leo’s eyes widened slightly. “Those symptoms vary, of course, hardly consistent and are often based on flare ups for many.”

Irritable was definitely a word to describe Donnie recently. The sleep complications and unnatural fatigue would explain why Leo’s twin had a heavy look of exhaustion far more than usual. “I don’t want to jump to conclusions, but that sounds promising.”

Draxum shrugged, “Maybe. But because doctors don't know what really causes it, it’s not easy to solidly diagnose. But, we can evaluate symptoms and the severity at which they occur. Last time I checked, they had a paper test they gave to patients. At least for some.”

Leo groaned.

“Which means the only way to get an answer is to have him consent to the tests. Which I’m assuming is the problem?”

“Nailed it,” he sighed. “But if I get him to agree, can we help him?”

“Sure, there’s therapy options to aid the symptoms and pain.” Draxum paused, “Are you going to make me do more physical therapy for your family?”

Leo chucked and abruptly stopped. “If I must. Aside from that, what would have caused it to start?” Draxum rolled his eyes at the earlier comment.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, it may not be Fibromyalgia. But, from my understanding, I’d guess stress. That kid wouldn’t know relaxation if it punched him in the face.” He muttered, “but enough of that, let’s get into therapy.”

This was progress. He had ideas, now he just had to prove them. He could beg Donnie for blood tests, just to rule out the earlier options, but finding a way to drag him into a test for Fibromyalgia was going to be difficult. But he was going to find a way. He would have to research further, but something in his gut was giving him confidence. Leo was going to solve his brother's problems, he’d drag him out from under those fallen bricks if he had to.

Chapter Text

It had been four days since Donnie started his episode. The household was feeling the pressure, the fear that their brother was ill. He hadn’t eaten anything . He was going to get hurt, one way or another. The only thing keeping Mikey sane was the fact that he was drinking water and the delusions that there was a little food missing every time he left some. Raph couldn’t lie about how he was feeling; he was sad, worried, scared. Just like the rest of them. But he was calmer, his big-brother facade keeping him strong. Leo, on the other hand, would argue that he was just getting more and more upset. He’d say he didn’t understand why Donnie couldn’t just talk to his family, why he had to shove himself into a far, dark corner and hide away.

And sure, those feelings weren’t wrong, necessarily, they just weren’t the forefront. There was more. He was lost. He was feeling the loss of his twin.

Everyday since it had started, Leo felt his absence. Every time he wanted to annoy his twin, or look at him after a stupid joke to hear his displeased groan, or to ask for his input on something stupid, or just to be there , he remembered that Donnie was gone. Yes, there were times where Donnie wasn’t all that available, where he worked himself to the bone on a passion project, locked in his lab for days on end. But at those times, it wasn’t like he was out of reach. He would still speak, albeit not much, he would still be available if his brothers needed him. With protest, of course. Now, it felt as though there was an icy barrier blocking Donnie off from the world. He was physically there, but that hardly meant anything if Leo could never see his over-the-top eyebrows and blank expression, hear his monotone voice or, if he was lucky, that squeal of excitement he’d sometimes get from the thrill of making a discovery. It was all gone.

And everyday, Leo had gone to Donnie’s room to check in on him. He would try to speak to him, strike a conversation, do something to feel his brother's presence, but it only ever lasted a few minutes. He couldn’t do it, it was too painful. He was aching. A part of himself was missing and he was struggling to accept that maybe there wasn’t anything he could do about it.

But how was he supposed to sit there and do nothing? His brother, his twin , was suffering a pain he knew well. A pain he knew would strip the world of any purpose. He couldn’t just let it happen. The fear of Donnie falling to the same irrational, fatal decisions Leo had was terrifying. It was eating away at his heart.

Maybe I’ve been too mean recently.

It was an idea he had been sitting with for a while, a fear that maybe his aggressive approach to support achieved the opposite effect. But he was glad he did it, it made him progress. Leo had a strong feeling that he now knew what was wrong with Donnie. 

Fibromyalgia. He’d read up on it more after his first meeting with Draxum about it two days ago. Symptoms lined up, and honestly, his heart was telling him it was true. But it wouldn’t be easy to test his brother. But maybe he could ease into it, hope he can get help before it gets really bad. Leo just had to be open, warmer, a source of comfort. He would try, at least.

Leo took a long, deep breath in front of Donnie’s door. He’d admit in a heart beat yet his mind hesitated. He needed his twin, and he needed him badly. He knocked and waited those dreadfully long four seconds before it slid open. As he expected, Donnie’s room was shrouded in shadows, much like his mind, Leo presumed. He waited for the door to shut before walking further.

“Hey, Donnie,” he spoke quietly, not wanting to scare his brother. He still couldn’t tell if he was awake, the blankets he drowned himself in rising and falling slowly as he breathed.

Leo made his way to the bed, pulling Donnie’s desk chair a few feet away so he could sit down while also allowing for some space.

“Just kind of here to talk,” he muttered. He cleared his throat, unsure as to why he felt so nervous around his brother. “Uhm, so, uhhh,” he felt kind of bad. “Stay silent if I’m allowed to stay here and talk.” Donnie made no noise. At least he asked. 

He huffed another breath. “I just wanted to say…” God, he hated how he felt. He wasn’t used to this. “I’m sorry for how I’ve been acting, recently. I was being too pushy and I’m worried I’m not helping the way I wanted to.”

Donnie didn’t move. Leo twiddled his thumbs and stared at his lap.

“I know you probably don’t want to hear this, but we’re worried about you. Mikey is getting a little delusional, I think.” He forced a chuckle. “Raph is always thinking about you, you can see it on his face. Dad keeps looking like he wants to tell us something, but he keeps backing out. Not sure if that’s related, but I thought I’d tell you.” That warranted a response, apparently, as Donnie moved for the first time in four days. His shoulder twitched, just slightly curling farther into himself. The blankets shifted slightly. Leo tried not to acknowledge it. “I know it probably feels like you can’t eat, but I’m worried you’re gonna make yourself sick. So, if you can ever find an ounce of energy, try to take one bite of food. If one bite is all you can get, that’s all I ask.”

As he stared at his brother, he squinted. He saw something underneath the blankets.

“Donnie, is your battle shell still on?” Leo quickly stood, his worry rapidly increasing. He walked forward and slightly pulled away the blankets. He inhaled sharply, his suspicions confirmed. “Donnie!” He exclaimed, worried. “You’re not supposed to have that on for longer than twelve hours,” he lowered his voice to a whisper, not wanting to scare him. “Has this been on for four days?” He asked more to himself than Donnie. Worried or not, he understood. It probably felt like too much energy to take the shell of, to think about putting it away and dealing with the sensory change. “Can you take it off, please? I can take it.” Donnie didn’t move. “Donnie, either you release it or I reach over you and do it myself. It’s going to happen one way or another, you choose.”

He waited another minute, praying that his brother would move. Just before Leo was about to reach over to search for the release button himself, the mound of fabric began to shift. Slowly, there was the sound of pressure release as the battle shell loosened.

“Thank you,” Leo said, gently taking hold of the shoulder hooks. With a gentle pull, Leo realized that the shell was more stuck than he thought. Eugh, boy… “Donnie, I’m going to pull a little harder on the shell, okay? Let me know if it hurts.” With a quick cringe, Leo put more force into his grip and pulled away the shell. Donnie immediately flinched forward, the metal separating rather aggressively from his softshell. Leo quickly set the shell down to the side, “Oh, god, I’m sorry.” He moved the blankets aside, trying to ignore Donnie’s shivering as his prolonged heat exposure disappeared. His shell looked far too dry, small cracks appearing at the center. “Oh, Dee…” Leo’s face warped in sadness. “I’ll be right back, okay? I’m going to go get some warm water for your shell.”

Leo rushed to the kitchen, forgetting about his crutches. He could deal with his pain later, it would fade anyway. Donnie’s wouldn’t. He filled a bowl with warm water and grabbed a soft wash cloth before returning to his twin's room. Thankfully, Donnie hadn’t brought the blanket back over his shell.

Carefully, Leo scooted the desk chair up to the edge of the bed, propped one leg up over his other knee and rested the bowl of water in the crook he had created. He dipped the cloth into the water, letting it soak for a moment before raising it up and ringing it out. Gently, he pressed the warm cloth on Donnie's back, expecting a response but he didn't move. Maybe he fell asleep? His dried shell absorbed the water with haste, and Leo kept repeating the same process for a while, without speaking. He hardly noticed the pricking pain behind his eyes.

Once Leo was satisfied with the rehydration of Donnie’s shell, he set the bowl on the bedside table and picked up the battle protection. Usually it went in his lab, so he’d have to carry it out later. In the meantime, he moved it against the farther wall. He expected Donnie to fold himself back into his blankets, but even after Leo muttered that he could, he didn’t move. He was too tired. Instead, Leo returned to the bed and softly pulled the blankets back over his brother, tucking him in tightly.

He sat back into the desk chair and rolled it to its original location, a few feet away. Leo couldn’t stop himself from speaking, “I miss you Donnie. I really, really miss you.” Then the tears came, just barely. “That’s two reallys, dumb-dumb.” He sniffed, “It’s so weird not having you here. I know you’re here , but I feel like I’m missing a part of myself.” A few tears streamed down his face. Leo didn’t realize how much he was hurting from this, which felt like a stab in his heart, because he knew Donnie was the one in actual pain. “Damnit,” he muttered, rubbing his cheeks with the back of his hands. “I need my twin, Donnie. I keep trying to find you throughout the day, and when you’re gone, I get so scared for a minute. I think you’ve gone missing or you’re hurt.”

He heaved a breath, shocked at how quickly his body gave up trying to hold back what he was feeling. 

“I know you’re hurting. Call it a twin sense, if anything,” he kept trying to lighten the pain, but it wasn’t working, “And I’m… I’m so sorry . I’m so sorry that we haven’t been able to help you, I’m sorry that I probably caused it, that my mistake is what’s causing you pain.” Leo’s head dropped, his hands clenching in his lap as the words kept spewing out. “I’m sorry you feel like you can’t be honest with us. I just,” Leo sniffed again, desperately trying to stop the tears, “I just wish you would ask for help. I hate seeing you like this. It hurts so much .”

Donnie still didn’t move when Leo raised his head.

“I need you back, Donnie. I’m so scared, right now. I keep getting those nightmares. Nightmares of you getting hurt or those damn Kraang things again. Where I’m stuck, watching you get taken over, used as a damn vessel for those creatures. And-” He stopped, realizing what he was saying. “I’m sorry,” he stood quickly, “I shouldn’t be telling you this, I know it freaks you out. I’m just making things worse, so,” he grabs the bowl of water, “I’m going to leave. Um, let me know if you need anything.” When he reaches the door, he looks back. “I’m sorry, again. And, uh,” He swallows, “I love you, Donnie.”

Leo left the room, his walking rapidly resolving to a limp. He didn’t mean to say all of that. He was planning on updating him about random stuff, nothing important, just stupid things he’d usually talk about. But instead, his heart took control and his feelings spilled out. Leo didn’t mean to dump all that onto Donnie, especially the nightmares part. Leo knew Donnie didn’t like that nightmare, the response from the past therapy session said enough.

He cursed himself as he returned the bowl to the kitchen and left for his room. Just go to sleep and help more tomorrow. He wrapped his arms around his torso, still unable to stop tears from falling. He needed his brother, so badly , but he was far out of reach.

_______________

The control panel of the Technodrome was the only thing visible. Wherever Donnie was, it was crowded in shadows, his vision tunneled at his arms. The disgusting, slimy, gross Kraang tentacles wrapped up his elbows, the cold temperatures sending shivers down his shoulders. He wasn’t doing enough, he wasn’t in enough control.

Mikey’s voice was audible, but Donnie couldn’t tell what he was saying.

In less than a second, his shadowed vision disappeared and the scene violently unfolded before him. He could see his twin and older brother fighting below him, the awful voice of Kraang prime ringing out in the distance.

“Take off my battle shell!” He could hear himself say, though he deeply wished he hadn’t. It takes Mikey a minute, but eventually, his only source of physical protection is removed, leaving him vulnerable and weak . 

A cold wash goes over his body as he realizes what he’s about to do. He turns around, spreading his arms to the side, staring, horrified, in front of him. He let himself fall, expecting the worst.

He felt the awful grasp of the Kraang controls, digging deep into his shell. He felt the tentacles wriggling underneath his skin, violating every part of his mind. It stung and ripped at his nerves, feeling every movement they made within his shell, the unsettling feeling of control washing over his body.

But it wasn’t control he received after he was consumed by the control panel. His vision was heightened, now seeing the fight scene from above. But he couldn’t move. Not one bit of him could make sense of what was happening, aside from the fact that he was being forced to watch his brothers fight to the death without being able to do anything. Use the ship, Donnie! He called to himself.

He realized what he had done.

He’d locked himself within a ship, removing his only sense of protection and sacrificing his control. This wasn’t supposed to happen, he knew that! He was supposed to be helping in the fight, he was supposed to be fighting against the Kraang to save his brothers.

He tried to move, to set himself free of the control panel and the hideous grasp of the Kraang tentacles. Instead, his eyes were forced to look down on the fight, all of his attention directed at what was about to happen.

Leo wasn’t fairing well. He kept talking and trying to get his brother back, but Raphael was gone. Raph latched onto Leo and raised him into the air. Donnie tried to call out to his twin, but his voice wouldn’t respond. Leo dropped his sword, pleading for Raph to return. He isn’t going to listen to you, please, Leo, please! He begged for his twin to hear him but everything he called out stayed in his head.

Raph pulled his arm back, the one warped with Kraang, the sharpened point aimed right at Leo’s heart. 

LEO , he cried out, but only his mind could hear the violent cry.

Leo kept pleading until the last moment, hanging on for dear life as he begged for his older brother. Raph hardly hesitated before he forced his arm forward, spearing Leo straight through the heart. Mikey released a guttural scream from where he stood, crumbling to his knees as he hopelessly reached forward to his murdered older brother. The cries that broke through Mikey sounded like they were ripping apart his throat, the sound one of the most horrible things Donnie could have ever imagined hearing. His baby brother, screaming in agony, unable to process what he had just seen.

Raph dropped his brother, Leo’s face permanently marked with fear and agony, as he wrenched his arm free of the shattered plastron, thick layers of blood dripping from him.

As if Donnie's heart was torn apart enough, the agony ravaging through his body, a pain he never could have known, making him feel limp and helpless, he achingly watched as Raph stalked back to Kraang Prime like a mindless toy. Donnie felt himself falling helplessly as he began to hear the sinister laugh of the monster. 

“You’ve served your purpose,” he taunted. “It’s time for you to go, you nuisance.”

No, please, Donnie cried to himself, Not him, too.

Kraang Prime ordered Raph to face him before violently ripping out the infection that consumed half of Raph's body. From the force, the large turtle stumbled back, growling in pain as he held his eye. The Kraang infection aggressively rippled off from Raph's muscles, tearing away his size like an eroding infection. Donnie watched as his older brother's hand thinned and was torn apart, exposing bone and revealing the gaping hole that replaced his eye, blood spilling from between his fingers and running down his face. Blood pooled at his feet as his veins tore apart. Raph wasn’t going to survive this. 

Donnie couldn’t look away, no matter how hard he tried.

If that horror wasn’t enough, a haunting smile spread across Prime's face as he prepared to do the same to Raph as Raph did to Leo. Spears of Kraang tentacles rose from the ground, all pointing towards the suffering turtle in far more red than he should be. 

Please , Donnie cried, don’t do this. But his words fell upon false ears. 

He prepared for what was to come, but even so, he could not process what he was watching. The several Kraang appendages launched forward, impaling Raph in multiple areas. Donnie had never seen his brother taken down so easily. In seconds, Raph was at his knees, impaled and dead.

Donnie wept at his place in the wall, the horrifying imagery replaying over and over. Soon enough, he felt himself get pulled from the control panel. Though the fantasy of relief had long since died. He couldn’t bear the pain, but there was only more to come.

He felt the tentacles reap his shell, removing his sense of self along with his ability to breath. He felt the Kraang arms press against the internal back of his shell, pounding to move further into his body, as if they hadn’t already taken enough. They kept prodding and poking and stabbing into him, breaking down his insides. The pain kept rising and rising until finally, they snapped.

They broke through the interior of his shell, shooting straight through his heart. 

__________

A heart wrenching scream tore Leo from his comic. Without a second thought, he stood and began running, ignoring every ounce of pain his body sent him. That was Donnie. Donnie, his twin, his brother, the one he held closest to him, released the most grating scream Leo had ever heard.

Those four seconds the door took were the longest seconds Leo had ever sat through.

He rushed inside, eyes immediately landing on his brother.

There, on the floor , was Donnie, curled in on himself, shaking and sobbing. He was scratching intensely at his plastron and arms, clawing at his shoulders and neck. His cries tore through the air, a sound so foreign for Donnie it kept Leo frozen for a second too long. Regaining his control, he fell to the ground next to his brother, grasping his hands and pulling them away. Donnie’s breathing was ragged and aggressive. He was hyperventilating. 

“Donnie! You’re okay,” Leo lifted his brother into his arms, not ignoring how easy it was, and clung to him dearly. “Breathe, Donnie, you’re safe.” He whispered, over and over again.

The wails of his twin bit through his heart. He was shaking so violently, fear ripping away at him. Leo didn’t know what to do. All of his experiences in nightmares hadn’t been this bad. 

Suddenly, Donnie pushed back from Leo, his eyes squeezed shut. But the movement caused him to fall back, hissing as, what Leo assumed, was a stabbing pain lacing through his body. He sobbed uncontrollably into the floor, the muscles in his legs seizing all movement. 

Leo grabbed him again, slowly and cautiously. “Donnie, please,” Leo pleaded, wrapping his arms around his twin. He pressed Donnie tightly against his chest, exaggerating his own breathing in hopes of grounding Donnie’s. When Donnie cried out at the contact to his shell, Leo realized what he was doing wrong. Quickly, he removed his arms and searched in the dark for a blanket. His hands met a familiar fluffy material. He yanked it forward and tightly secured it around Donnie. Leo did, however, continue to hold onto his brother's arms, carefully maneuvering them away from his reddened neck and shoulders. Donnie tried to fight back, but his body worked harder against him, forbidding his movement. “You’re in your bedroom, you are safe, you are unharmed. I am your brother , I am safe, we are all safe .” When Donnie succumbed to his body’s violent repulsion, his forehead fell onto Leo’s shoulders as his crying continued to tear at him. “Oh, Dee,” Leo’s voice broke. 

Leo couldn’t take hearing his brothers terrorizing sobs, his heart shattering at every ragged breath that would only lead to another agonizing sound. Donnie was falling apart, something eating away at his insides. Leo spoke to him in hushed words, pleading for him to breathe and to realize where he was.

How did Donnie do this for Leo? How did he manage to handle this? Leo was overwhelmed. He didn’t know what to do and he hated it . 

It didn’t take long until the door slid open again, revealing a scared Mikey and Raph. They ran inside, coming to Leo’s side with questioning looks. Leo shook his head, only then realizing the tears in his eyes. 

What if he caused this? What if talking about his nightmares earlier that evening caused Donnie to have nightmares. 

This isn’t about you, Leo, you need to help Donnie!

Leo brought him close again, resting his hand on the back of Donnie’s head as he wept. Raph, as gentle as ever, lifted the twins into his arms. He moved slowly, not wanting to shock Donnie into throwing himself out of his grasp. Leo continued to whisper to Donnie, noticing his breaths becoming stronger and proper. 

“Should we bring him to the living room?” Mikey asked, a hand on Raph’s arm as they walked.

“No, the open space might freak him out if he wakes up again. Let’s bring him to Leo’s room, that’s the most familiar place to him aside from his lab.” Raph spoke quietly. His older brother always knew what they needed, his voice and nature a pillar in their lives.

The twins were placed lightly into Leo’s bed, Leo still clinging onto his twin as if he would fade away if he let go. Donnie still cried intensely, but it wasn’t as violent as before. Raph laid a few blankets over the two and once Leo assured him that they were comfortable, he took a seat at the foot of the bed. Mikey crawled into his lap and looked at nothing with sad eyes. 

They sat silently, listening to the softshell's wails and Leo’s endless attempts at comforting him until Donnie had cried himself dry. He had fallen asleep, never truly aware of where he was, throat hoarse and weak. When he finally fell silent, Leo released a heavy breath. They all did.

Mikey fell asleep next, tightly secured in Raph's arms.

Leo’s breath was shaky, but calm. With Donnie close to his chest, he could hear his breathing and feel his heart beat. “I’m worried.” He finally muttered.

“I know,” Raph sighed, “I am, too.”

Chapter Text

They’re all going to know, Donatello. You can’t keep hiding. Eventually, you’re going to fail your brothers.

The shadows had a way of being obnoxiously loud, its voice ruthless and tormenting. The illogical was so close to being consumed, allowing for the rotting fauna to wrap itself around his every being. His mind was so distant, so willingly unaware of what was happening around him. He had no energy to fight back, to push away the vines to allow a reality where he recovered. Instead, he let the vines and their thorns dig into his skin, feeding on his blood and despair until there was nearly no part of him left uninjured. He was so close to giving up. The shadows beckoned him, a tempting offer, promising a time where he wouldn’t live in constant pain. With the physical body ‌ already aching, now the mental one, too, that offer felt like honey coated perfection, one he was so close to accepting. There was nothing to stop him, after all. Just the terrifying coaxing of the shadow’s insults and the overwhelming drowning of pain.

But then there was.

An annoyingly faint sound from behind the wall. A wall that was still being built. As if he hadn’t abandoned the illogical long ago, the logical was pounding on the wall in a steady tempo. Being one of the same, he knew that small, consistent sound would be too much to focus on. The illogical  wouldn’t be able to fully let go, that distracting noise being the sole handle on his life. He couldn't close his eyes and allow the shadows to take him, his attention stuck on that aggravating sound that wouldn’t stop. He couldn’t relax, couldn’t give in. 

That sound was the only thing that was stopping him.

This wall is getting too high, it’s dangerous. You know that, right? The logical fought, his hand red from his knocking. The wall builder wasn’t much of a talker, nor much of a thinker, either.

Just following orders. Either I’m told to stop, or the wall falls. That’s the only way to get rid of it. It said, voice empty. 

The logical’s persistent knocking was already becoming too much. But he had to keep fighting. He didn’t want to see what would happen if the illogical won. The cold walls of the prison cell were rough, jagged and bumpy. One side had plastered-over metal bars that blocked him from seeing the shadowed version of himself. It prevented him from calling out for help. The opposite wall was also barred, but this time, there was a light that was overbearingly bright. He was surprised there was still light to offer, he figured it’d be long gone by now. But someone was keeping it on, keeping his physical self alive. At least he wasn’t trying to revive himself solo.

Donnie’s eyes were difficult to open that morning, tears he didn’t remember crying sealing his lids shut. Once he managed to peel them open, he realized why the warmth surrounding him was different from his usual blankets. He was curled up on his side, vision blocked by his twin holding him close. He was in Leo’s room. Not his room. Not locked in his room, wrapped in more blankets than he could count.

How did I get here?

His limited vision from peering over his bent shoulder revealed his older brother leaning against the foot of the bed, fast asleep with Mikey in his arms. After another moment, as his body woke up, he felt a persistent burn on his forearms. Not the usual muscle pain, but an irritation from on top of the skin, which he shortly realized his neck and shoulders also held. Moving as little as he could, he peered at his arms that were folded in front of him.

His skin was reddened and slightly raw, scratch marks dug deep into him. What the hell happened? What am I doing here?

At his shuffling, Leo began to stir. Donnie immediately shut his eyes, pretending to still be asleep. He was not in the mood to be perceived. He couldn’t imagine the sort of annoyance that would come from attention after shutting himself away for four days. He’d get berated with questions and worry, relating to whatever it was that happened last night. He didn’t care to find out how it was he ended up here in the first place. The muscles in his legs burned violently, so clearly there was some movement involved that he, for one, certainly didn’t remember consenting to.

Leo squeezed Donnie close in another hug before shifting slightly. “Raph, you awake?” He whispered.

Raph groaned slightly, forcing himself awake. “What’s up, Lee?”

“What time is it?” He mumbled, voice groggy from deep sleep. 

The large turtle gently maneuvered Mikey onto one arm and took a look at his phone, “A little past 9 AM… You wanna get up?”

“Donnie’s still sleeping. I don’t want to leave him alone just yet.”

Donnie winced at himself. How pathetic could he be that his brothers were afraid to leave him alone? What was he, dangerous cargo?

“Mikey’s still sleeping, we’ll leave them together. Donnie’s going to need food when he wakes up.” Raph said between a few yawns. Leo hummed in agreement and gingerly slid his arm out from underneath Donnie. He tensed at the movement, the pressure on his arm sending bolts of agony through his skin. He couldn’t help the small noise of weakness he made, shocked at the ridiculous amount of pain that started to rise in the spot that Leo’s arm pressed into him. “Donnie,” Leo sighed, his worries evident.

Donnie heard Raph stand from his spot on the floor. Moments after, Mikey was softly laid next to him. The youngest turtle turned in his sleep, his arm falling onto Donnie’s side. Another wave of pain released from the contact, causing him to whine again, curling on himself. 

Leo made a sound of concern and Donnie almost wished he could see what he looked like right now. Oddly enough, since that would only make him feel worse. The arm overtop Donnie was moved off, presumably by Raph, before Raph muttered some reassuring words to Leo.

The two made their way to Leo’s door and Donnie heard just a whisper of how his twin responded, “He’s in pain, Raph, I don’t know what to do…” The door slid closed behind them and Donnie was left to silence. A painful, embarrassing, shameful silence. Mikey’s breathing is the only noise Donnie could listen to aside from his torturing thoughts.

He doesn’t know how long he laid there, staring at Leo’s wall like a loser, too afraid to look at his little brother’s sleeping face. His stomach starts to growl, his hunger now impossible to ignore. When he fell into the prolonged state of numbness, which he had noticed he’d mostly broken out of, again, for some unknown reason, he could easily ignore his failing body’s hunger signals. Now he couldn’t. He was slightly dehydrated and further than starving. 

But getting food would entail speaking to his brothers and he really didn’t want to do that. Maybe they would let him go, just for now. He could find ways to dodge their pushy questions later. His defenses had been working so far, kind of, so he’d just have to keep it up. Keep it up doing what? He didn’t know. He still felt hopeless, pointless, lost without a purpose. Now he just felt… spiteful? Almost? Something deep in his heart was annoyed.

He was angry. At himself, sure. He was angry at more, but he didn’t know what. There were a lot of things going on in his head he didn’t understand and he didn’t feel like working them out. Feelings… gross . He was fine. He was going to be fine. Whatever this terrible pain was would go away, he just had to get his brothers to heal first and all would be well.

Knowing he wouldn’t be able to sleep his days away if his body felt like it was eating itself from the lack of food, Donnie decided to take the risk. They couldn’t make him talk and he had no intentions of talking. Get in and get out as fast as possible. So, as precariously as he could manage, he climbed over Mikey to get off of the bed, ignoring the intense waves of pain flooding all of his senses. 

Turns out, four days straight of no moving aside from the daily bathroom breaks that he never remembered did a number on the body. Especially one that was unnaturally aching and weakening by the hour. Every muscle in his body protested his movements. A chill ran over him, the sudden cold after days of heat causing him to shiver. He grabbed a blanket from Leo’s bed that Mikey hadn’t already claimed and wrapped it tightly over himself. The pressure helped, a bit, but his shoulders hardly ever ached like his arms and legs did, so it was difficult to form a proper hypothesis on the impacts of pressure.

The skin on his shoulders stung against the fabric, the raw skin weak and sensitive. He couldn’t help but keep wondering what had happened last night. He had a bad habit of scratching at his arms when he got nervous, but that was a childhood habit that died out several years ago. Why had it started again?

The cold floor felt like needles under his feet as he dragged his way through the lair. He was unstable and weak, using the wall to keep him upright was the only way he was able to keep walking. He’d stumble as his legs gave out on him, valiantly trying to stay quiet even if the pain demanded to be heard. His throat was dry and scratchy, he noticed, worn out. He rubbed a hand over his throat, feeling the raw skin. A small cough forced itself out, burning his esophagus. 

Hobbling into the kitchen, Donnie laid eyes on Leo and Raph, who were quietly cooking a simple breakfast. More so, it was Raph cooking and Leo handing him ingredients. Leo wasn’t allowed to cook, it never ended well. He did, however, immediately turn to Donnie once he heard the faint tapping of his walking. 

“Donnie!” Leo called, jumping from his spot on the counter. He raced to his twins side and hesitantly rested his hands over his shoulders. Donnie flinched s lightly. Leo’s voice switched from its shocked concern to a gentler, warmer one. “Donnie, how are you feeling?”

“I’m fine,” As he spoke, his voice died out instantly. His voice was rough, scratchy, the pitch unstable. He coughed violently before rubbing his throat again with watery eyes.

“I know this is probably going to be a no, but do you want to talk about it? Last night?” 

‘No? I don’t know what happened.’ Donnie signed, his hands slow to respond.

Leo faltered. “You don’t remember?”

Donnie shook his head.

“Your nightmare? It was… kinda violent, Donnie, are you sure you’re okay?”

‘I don’t remember any nightmares. I’m fine. Just tired.’ He waved Leo off and tried to walk past him, but separating from the wall caused him to stumble forward after his right knee buckled. Leo swiftly caught his twin by the shoulders.

“Donnie!” He said again, more concern lacing the words.

‘I’m fine .’ His hands moved with pointed aggression with a sharp look on his face. ‘I just need food and I’m going to my lab to work.’ Donnie forced himself forward, ignoring the agonizing pain in his knees. It felt like knives were bolted beneath the bones of his legs and hips, every movement sending shock waves of aching misery. His joints buckled and weakened, his walking so unstable the two brothers were worried he was rapidly losing the ability to continue, but Donnie refused any sort of help.

After this response, Leo hurried off to another room. Donnie thought he had stormed off and would leave him alone, but that wasn’t the case. A minute later, back in the kitchen, where Donnie was being forced to take a plate full of eggs and buttered toast by Raph, Leo held out Donnie’s tech-bō with a flat expression.

Donnie scowled before taking his weapon and diverging his view. He took his staff and leaned into it, its support welcoming. This was embarrassing and shameful . He stalked off to his lab, ignoring the calls of worry from his brothers. He didn’t need this babying. His days of absence meant he was far behind on his tech and coding. He had a lot to catch up on.

____________

It was already proving to be difficult with Donnie. His attitude was spiteful and crude. Donnie needed to know Leo cared, even if he was rude and intolerant of it, but it was getting difficult to show that. Leo didn’t understand. His twin had always been dismissive of emotions, but never this bad. He was never angry at simple acts of care. Never gave them bad looks when they offered simple tasks to help, never showed them this kind of aggressiveness, even if he was annoyed. He’d always respond with snide comments, sure, but this was different.

“I can’t believe he doesn’t remember.” Leo grumbled for the thousandth time that day, curled up on the couch while Mikey and Raph played video games.

“It was probably a night terror. People don’t usually remember those when they wake up.” Mikey said, his voice faint and quiet, his eyes still on the screen. Leo knew Mikey was trying to distract himself from his worries. His eyes were still a little red from how much he had cried over what happened last night. It was scary seeing Donnie like that, awake but terribly unaware of what was going on, convinced he was in some kind of danger no matter what they did. It took a long time for Donnie to sleep, spending at least two hours hitting Leo’s chest, too weak to escape his grasp as he sobbed into his shoulder. It was heart wrenching and stressful, but eventually he wore himself out and he passed out. Leo made a note to check on his arms later, even if Donnie protested. He scratched at himself too much, they were worried he’d start bleeding.

“I feel like I’m losing my brother…” He grumbled, sinking further into the couch.

“We’re not losing him, Leo, he’s just… going through something.”

“He’s treating us like garbage, though! It’s not fair to us and it’s not fair to him to have to deal with all of this by himself.” 

Raph sighed, not one of annoyance but more a sad acceptance. “He’s making this decision, Leo. You and Mikey have tried to help him, and he just won't take it. All we can do right now is hope he comes to us. Agitating him more is only pushing him further.”

Leo huffed. He probably won't ever come to us, since he’s decided that’s the best course of action now. He rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. He felt like he was the only one seriously concerned about this. He knew he wasn’t, he knew Mikey was scared and so was Raph. But it felt like they weren’t doing enough. They gave into Donnie’s behavior too quickly. Leo wasn’t going to do that. Donnie could push them away as far as he wanted but Leo was going to fight his way back.

A few hours passed and dinner was coming about. Donnie hadn’t left his lab, but at least he ate breakfast. Leo finally entered the lab, gauze and a salve in his hands. He’d given up using his crutches when helping Donnie. As petty as it was, deliberately not using his mobility aids agitated Donnie and that at least got him to acknowledge that his brothers existed. So agitate Donnie, Leo would.

“Dee, I want to see your arms. We need to make sure to treat your skin.”

Donnie was typing quickly over the keys, words fluttering over the bright screens in record pace. He didn’t say anything.

Leo made his way over and turned his wheely chair around. Donnie had his left leg perched up on the chair, posture bent over the desk like a shrimp.

Donnie gave an annoyed look, “I’m fine.” He said, trying to turn himself back around but Leo stopped him, his strength overriding Donnie far too quickly.

“Nope, I’m doing this.” He took Donnie’s arms out from the blanket, Leo’s blanket, and pulled them in front of him. The skin was still red, evidence that the scratching hadn’t stopped. Since he wasn’t bleeding, it wasn’t as violent as last night, more of a natural reaction he was dealing with. Donnie tried to yank his arms away but Leo held on tight, giving him a sharp look. “Just let me do this, please?” He said, putting on a nicer tone. He had to remember to be nice to Donnie, his aggression hadn’t been working all that well earlier. 

Donnie didn’t hide his irritated groan. Leo wheeled the chair over to another seat Donnie had nearby and sat himself down, keeping a tight hold on his twin. Donnie kept his eyes away, looking distantly at his monitors or random tech scattered about the lab.

Leo pulled his brother's arms into his lap, resting his arm overtop them to prevent Donnie from running. He opened the salve and applied some to his hands before grabbing Donnie’s left arm. As he rubbed the cold, soothing paste into his skin, Leo realized just how thin his arms had gotten. He was weakened and lost a significant amount of weight after not eating for four days. Donnie and Leo had very similar builds, Leo maybe having a little more muscle, so seeing him like this caused a stinging mist behind his eyes. He refused to cry and he continued to massage in the salve. Once applied, he wrapped Donnie’s arms in the gauze, loosely laying it down against the skin so as not to irritate it further. He repeated the same action on his other arm.

Not once did Donnie look at him, maintaining his distasteful look of impatience. Be nice, Leo. You have to be there for him .

“There you go.” As soon as Leo said that, Donnie retracted his arms into the blanket and pushed himself back to his desk. Leo didn’t miss the small wince in Donnie’s face. Leo stood, rubbing his legs slightly, the cold air of the lab raising some pains in his knees. “Uhm, thank you, Donnie, for letting me do that.” He received a small hum in response. “If you want to talk about your dream, just let me know, okay? I’m here for you.” Donnie side eyed him, pinching his brow before looking back to his work. If Leo had hair, he’d be pulling at it in exasperation. “I’ll have Mikey bring you dinner once it’s done.”

“Not hungry.” Donnie mumbled.

Leo looked up towards the ceiling as if some patience would drop from the heavens. He really wished it would because he was running dangerously short and he was only on day one of being nice. “It’ll be there for when you are. I’ll leave you be.” Leo had to resist the urge to stomp out of the lab, wanting Donnie to know how pissed off he was becoming. But alas, he didn’t. Leo hesitated at the lab door, turning back to look at his brother, who remained facing away. He released a heavy breath. “Love you, Dee.” He whispered, knowing he wouldn’t receive a response.

Chapter Text

Splinter hadn’t been lying when he told Donatello he’d speak to his brothers if it ever got too bad. The rat just wished he had more to say. He also wished he had said something earlier. He knew his purple son had a way with drowning himself in work, spending far too much time in his lab. But that didn’t mean he didn’t recognize what had happened over the week. He couldn’t ignore the heart-wrenching screaming he heard that past night, either. He scolded himself for his silence. He should have said something that first night, when Donnie was seeing things. As he shook to his core and his eyes were glossed in fear.

Three of his sons sat at the dinner table, Leo agitated and the other two tired. Splinter took a deep breath. “He knows he’s injured. To a degree.” He finally said, unsure of how to start this conversation. He knew his sons understood that there were issues with Donnie, but he didn’t know to what extent.

Leo huffed, sulking against the back of his chair and crossing his arms. “So he’s just being stupid by choice? Goodie. ”

“Blue,” Splinter warned gently. Leo looked away, pinching his brow. “Blue, you came to me a few days ago inquiring about our medical history.” This caught the attention of the other two, directing their vision towards their brother. “So, I’m assuming you’ve been doing some research into what could be wrong with Purple?”

Leo sighed and nodded.

“Good. So, with your knowledge of chronic illness, I hope this is understood by you, best,” Splinter softened his voice. “We don’t know what’s going on with him, but I think his behavior is coming from a more mental aspect of pain, less so the physical one.”

Raph sat up slightly, his arm around Mikey. “Have you spoken to him about it, pops?”

Splinter nodded. “Yes. The night following your boys’ therapy session, I found your brother in the kitchen.” He didn’t like thinking about what happened, seeing his little boy so terrified and shaken. “I fear he may have been dealing with hallucinations due to a lack of sleep and more intense anxiety than he’s familiar with.”

“Hallucinations!?” The three called at the same time.

“It hasn’t happened since,” He reassured. “But he voiced some things to me that I think are important to tell you.” Leo reluctantly relaxed, hoping to get more information, albeit still plenty agitated. “He said that he felt like he couldn’t make the right decisions, which is part of the reason, I’m assuming, as to why he hasn’t admitted it.”

“Donnie? Not being able to make decisions? That’s new.” Leo snided.

Splinter gave him a look. “That’s the problem.” He added, trying to push Leo away from his hostility. “It’s new to him, as well. It appears his anxiety is at an all time high, which is freaking him out. He doesn’t feel like himself.”

“I don't get it!” Leo said, exasperated. “If he knows he’s struggling, if he knows his anxiety is bad and it’s affecting him physically , why hasn’t he asked us for help? It’s literally what the therapy sessions are for! Both the group and individual ones, he’s been given so many opportunities to open up!”

“Emotions are hard for him, maybe he just needs time?” Mikey spoke up, his voice small. 

“He’s had time, Angie, so much time. Why can’t he just talk to us?” 

“Because he’s waiting for you all to heal, first.” Splinter said simply.

His sons halted their argument and looked at him blankly. “What do you mean?” Raph finally said.

“Purple thinks that if you all know he’s in pain, it’ll take from your healing. So he’s not saying anything.”

“Okay, I’m with Leo on this. That doesn’t make any sense. We’re all healing pretty well, even Leo! My vision is almost back, Mikey’s arms are significantly more stable, soon Leo will be walking without aid. What does he want from us? I'm confused.” 

Their father shrugged. “That’s crossing the line of reasoning I don’t know. It wasn’t a long conversation, but a lot of it was him saying he’d figure out what’s wrong with him himself, then he’d go get help. And that he’d say something once you were all healed.”

“Well, what’s his interpretation of healed?” Leo asked, not necessarily looking for an answer. “Raph is technically healed, his visual improvement is a damn good sign of that. His wounds are gone and now he’s just adjusting. Mikey doesn’t have any active burns. Most of my injuries have healed, now, too. I’m really just relearning how to walk properly, and if I’m being honest, I’m basically there. Draxum is just dramatic. Sure, I’ve still got some sickness here and then, but other than that! I’m healed!”

“I know you’re frustrated-”

“I’m beyond frustrated, dad!” Leo shook his head, “He’s deliberately ignoring us, basically telling us to fuck off because, what? He doesn’t care about how we feel about this? It’s selfish and rude.”

“Alright, hold on,” Mikey said, sitting up. “It’s not selfish, Leo. Donnie is struggling and he probably doesn’t know how to deal with it. Having this kind of intense emotional change is scary for him, so we need to try and be there for him, even if it takes a long time.”

“Okay, but why isn’t he trying?” Leo countered, realizing the tears welling up in his eyes. Splinter looked at his son, hurting and upset. Leo sniffed, slightly looking up the ceiling to stop gravity from winning their war. “I wish he could just confide in us. We were all supposed to be healing together, but he goes off and struggles in silence. It’s like all the lessons Mikey has been teaching him are going right over his head.”

Mikey presses his mouth in a thin line, “We don’t know that that’s the case.” He defended.

“I know,” Leo looked back down and shook his head. “I miss my brother,” he added, giving up on fending away his crying. “I miss his stupid comebacks, I miss being able to sit next to him and say nothing, I miss him being here .” 

“He’s still here, Blue. We just have to let him know that we’re here, too.” Splinter continued. “He’s a stubborn boy. I’ll try to talk to him, of course, but with that being said, Leo? What have you learned thus far?”

______________

All things considered, maybe using persistent annoyance as the sole reason the illogical didn't succumb to the shadows wasn’t the best option. But working with the circumstances, it was the only one.

The logical knew there was fault on both sides, but there was a lot on his side. He should have been kinder, should have worked in unison, should have tried a little harder to guide the illogical when he forced himself into control. There were signs of his struggle but he was too focused on shame. The shadows got to him first, a cruel path to destroying the weaker of the two. The shadows convinced him that his counterpart was nothing but a weak leader who deserved to know it. Stupidly, against his namesake, the logical believed it. Look where it got him.

He started rambling not long ago, begging to be heard by the illogical. He had begun to hear movement from the deathly side of the wall, his constant knocking disturbing any peace the illogical had falsified. He couldn’t hear what he was saying, but he didn’t sound happy. Which, given the greater goal of things, was the ideal outcome.

If you can hear me, he tried, I’m sorry for what I said to you. But I need you to listen to me now-

His voice died out, exhaustion eating at his throat as he breathed hard.

There's no point . You should give in, it’d make everything so much easier. He hadn’t heard that voice in a while. Before any more shadows seeped through the wall, the logical stepped to the side, keeping his hand pounding on the coarse brick, and let the blinding light behind him dispel the faint wisps of dark air.

Persistent one, that is.

On the other side of the wall, the illogical had finally stood. He couldn’t sleep, no matter how hard he tried. He wanted to relax, to let go, to accept his cruel friend's offer. But no, the one he thought he was finally rid of found a way to infringe further on his leadership.

The thorned vines still ravaged the ground beneath him, occasionally crawling up his ankles in an attempt to bring him down once more. His body shivered, the shadows encasing him in an icy, strong grasp. Its wisps and clouds wrapped around his arms, crawling across his body as the blood kept falling. Thorns no longer dug into his skin, but the wounds persisted. The punctures wouldn’t heal over, blood drenching most of his person. He missed the comfort of that pain. He had grown so accustomed to their sting that it felt wrong not having it there. At least he got to feel something then. Now, it was all dull and unforgiving. 

Your shame will bring you home . The shadows beckoned. Just let me do that for you .

The illogical clenched his fist, letting his nails find a place in his cut palms, feeling the pain fight beneath his skin. He wanted to go, wanted to accept that offer. The shadows, cruel and violent, manipulative and overpowering, insulting and degrading, had a voice made of velvet. Violent in nature, the shadows were an enemy. It was hurtful and knew just where to hit to take someone down. And yet, the shadows were the one thing that spoke to the illogical. It let him make the decisions, at least he thought as such. He didn’t recognize the forced thoughts, ideas manhandled into his mind by the ever-persuasive shadows. But his fake beliefs made him feel better. He was still alive, wasn’t he? Clearly he had been doing something right if his physical self was still functioning. 

That offer felt as good as warmth. He hated being cold, he hated being in pain, he hated being alone. But you put yourself here, didn’t you? I can change everything .

The shadows were right. The illogical had put himself there. He started the building of the wall, he let the vines grow from the second he saw them showing up in their once luscious, bright field. He shoved away and shut off the original leader. That overbearing pest that was driving him insane now. The illogical should be ashamed. He was. He was more than that. He was resentful of himself.

But his peace was withheld from his bleeding hands, ripped from just out of his grasp. The persistent knocking in the background was a migraine, a disturbance he couldn’t get rid of. He couldn’t even speak to the logical, for the fear of what he had to say was too great. The logical had been right and he had a way of boasting his success. The illogical was tired of feeling so poorly, all he wanted was some tranquility and stability.

Stability was what he was losing, unknowingly, as the wall behind him grew to a height where even without wind, it began to teeter and lean too far forward, foreshadowing a violent fall.

In hindsight, the whole shutting himself off from the world for four days had a lot more repercussions than Donnie anticipated. His lab was too cold, half of his computers updated out of nowhere and now he had to adjust to a new setup until he fixed them, he left several pieces of equipment off of their charging stations and honestly, everything was just a mess. He had started with the codes, the ones he left sitting open on the computers that updated, so a lot of his progress had been removed. He loudly typed away, replacing the lines of code that he lost. Unknowingly, he swiftly moved through the line that had torn at his life almost a week ago. Donnie was stuck in a mode of work, driven by frustration and anger. Unaware of what was happening around him.

He was hunched over with a blanket over his shoulders. He was still cold, wishing he hadn’t left his heated blanket in his room, and having an unprotected shell only made it worse.

Right, his battle shell. Where had that gone, again?

The memory of the prior day filled his head. He may not have remembered whatever nightmare Leo had rambled about, but he did remember the painful conversation his twin made him sit through. Those words, filled with pain and stress, were only a reminder of how Donnie was failing. He was making Leo worse. Even with that knowledge, he felt only anger and resentment and he didn’t know what to do with it. So he would let it harbor in his heart until it went away. Because Donnie didn’t do emotions and anger wasn’t going to help anyone.

He released a heavy sigh and went to find his battle shell. It was, in fact, not in its display and charging case, but rather leaning against the wall. Which meant it was likely out of power, which meant all of its beneficial modes were no longer accessible, which made everything worse. He could feel his frustration in his heart, making him tense and on edge. He was so tired and wished everything would go back to normal. Why did everything have to go wrong? Why was he so stressed? It was overwhelming, irritating, and annoying.

And shameful. Don’t forget that .

Hard not to when it was the only thing his thoughts had been saying for the past several days.

Everything around his lab was looking low on power due to improper management. Oversight on his part. He’d have to engineer a way to maintain proper power usage in any future, long-term absences. He didn’t intend to have any absences like that, but he couldn’t be too cautious. 

He couldn’t help his brain's desire to get a new power source. The idea of new material did make him giddy, typically, and though he felt it less so now, it would still be a good source of motivation. Especially since he had lost so much of that recently.

After having poor posture for the past twelve or some hours, only disturbed by Leo’s rude bandaging mission, he could justify the need to get outside and move around a bit. Even though his muscles wouldn’t approve.

So, without much further thought, Donnie equipped his out-of-battery battle shell and grabbed his staff, already meeting protests from his body.

The lair was quiet, the clock soundlessly ticking past midnight. Donnie was sure Leo was awake, somewhere in his room, so he moved as any good ninja would. Well, at least he thought. Still having to rely on his staff to keep him stable, the subtle clang of the metal meeting concrete dispelled any desire of silence.

Despite that, he exited his home with no exterior involvement.

The underground tunnels were frigid, the stone beneath his feet sending spikes of pain up his ankles. He walked through the familiar pathways, ones his family had begun to abandon at the useful portals his brother could make, but the route was still engrained in his head. Times like these, where he traveled solo and silently, he’d hum one of his favorite 80’s jams, but tonight, he couldn’t muster the energy. He wasn’t used to feeling so empty. While he had regained his sense of humanity after days of feeling nothing but numb regret, his body and heart still felt like a part of him was missing. Or blocked, shadowed by something he didn’t recognize. His joy was easily eclipsed these days, anything he used to love or be drawn to losing their allure. He was still living, but everything was losing its appeal.

He wanted to be him again. He wanted to be Hamato Donatello. A scientist, a brother, a son. Someone who was passionate about the things he loved and protective of his family, even if he didn’t know how to show it. But everything felt like it was falling apart into nothing. Devastation loomed over him, a feeling of crushing anxiety he wasn’t familiar with. It was tearing him away from himself, like a shattered mirror, separating the vision of himself into tiny pieces that could no longer be “Donatello”. There was too much missing, too little unity, too much fallen away. It felt as though the glue that could piece him back together was just out of reach, but he couldn’t even attempt to reach for it, his arms too weak to carry the burden of his own loss. The loss of himself, the loss of his family. The loss of his heart and the loss of his mind.

Wallowing in his thoughts, he hadn’t realized he’d arrived at the large tunnel that led straight up to the streets of New York City. Halted, a complication he hadn’t thought of came to him.

The ladder. 

He had worn his battle shell on instinct, for protection and for its transportation abilities. But despite the fact that he was leaving to obtain new energy, he had dismissed the fact that his battle shell was dead . He knew that, that’s why he left. Yet it slipped his mind. He couldn’t utilize the jetpack he had always depended on. He’d have to manually climb up to the topside.

“I can’t climb that ladder.” He muttered to himself, the only other sound aside from the distant noise of running water.

After a moment of silence, that degrading voice answered him. You can’t climb a ladder? What kind of ninja can’t climb a ladder? Even kids can do that.

All of a sudden, he felt numb again. “It’s going to hurt.” He couldn’t help but say, feeling the fiery ache already consuming his thighs. 

It’s going to hurt? Really? Must we call the presses? Alert them of your unwavering weakness, show them all how pathetic you are?

“But…”

You’re a shameful excuse of a man, Donatello. Letting something so small as a ladder stop you. Pathetic. Weak. Useless . You’re a joke .

The numbness is quickly overrun by a thrashing anger. He shut off his thoughts and advanced to the first rung of the ladder. Tentatively, he rested a hand at the step closest to his face and raised his leg to take the first step. Pulling himself up, he felt the immediate agony that laced through the back of his thighs. It felt as though millions of termites were eating through his muscles and skin, tearing it apart bit by bit until there would be nothing left. He heaved a deep breath and kept climbing, ignoring how the pain only ever deepened.

Then his arms followed suit, their aching numbness weakening his grasp but he kept moving. He winced as his knees bit back, cradling himself close to the cold, metal and stone wall.

Halfway up, he realized the danger he was in. He was losing feeling in his legs, his joints shaking violently every time he moved up a step, each one taking more and more effort and time. But he couldn’t stop now.

Once stable on his current rung, he gripped tightly to the lined metal bar above him and lifted his right leg, slowly placing it on the next rung as shrieking pain consumed him. He whined slightly, the pain becoming too much to bear silently. He heaved, his breath caught short in his aching lungs. Applying all of his weight onto his right left, he attempted to lift himself up one more step.

His leg froze, the muscles locked and cold. He was shaking, unable to muster enough strength to hoist himself up one more step. He begged his arms to take the weight instead, to pull him up the last foot of distance. But equally as cold and weak, overrun by an agonizing throb, he couldn’t do it. He let out a soft cry, one full of fear and desperation, as his legs gave out and so did his arms.

The air was brittle and chilly as it whipped past his face. He knew the harsh ground would be too, but the sudden, heavy contact destroyed all of his senses as the shock overtook him. 

Chapter Text

Much like the past several days, the morning had been quiet. Donnie hadn’t shown up for breakfast, again , but their father told them to leave him be. After what Leo had filled them in on, his suspicions of something called fiber… my ale, or something like that, Raph wasn’t really sure, Splinter was insistent that he would need more sleep. Leo wasn’t happy about it. Leo wasn’t happy about most things, recently.

Raph was trying to relax, trying to restore some semblance of normalcy or simply not-emergency. It was difficult to do so when one brother was having constant medical difficulties and was keeping it diligently to himself and another fuming over that exact thing. Raph knew why, of course, but it didn’t make it any easier.

His comic books were the only thing keeping him sane at that moment, their stories keeping his thoughts at bay. He’d already had his personal therapy session yesterday, Mikey guiding him through his innate fear that he couldn’t be strong enough to protect his brothers. It felt relieving to admit it, even if it felt scary to talk to Mikey about it, being his baby brother and all. But Mikey was growing up, and maybe it was good to confide in him more.

As if thinking his name summoned him, a soft knock came from Raph’s open door. “Raphie?” Mikey mumbled. His eyes looked at the snapping turtle with expectant sadness. Maybe not sadness, per se, but something adjacent.

Raph closed his comic book and tossed it to the side. “What’s up, big man?”

Mikey groaned as he dramatically slouched his way into the room. He hoisted himself into Raph’s bed and collapsed next to him. Sighing, he curled into his big brother's side. Raph shuffled down a bit and rested an arm around Mikey’s shell.

“You okay?” He asked softly.

“Yeah,” he answered, staying silent for another moment before adding, “just a little upset. I’m getting sick of their fighting.”

“Their fighting?”

“Donnie and Leo. Like,” Mikey looks up to Raph, “I get that Leo is worried but god are those two pissing me off. It’s like everything I say to Leo goes in one ear and out the other.”

Raph nodded, “you’re mad at Donnie, too?”

“Yes.” He admitted, somewhat weakly, “not necessarily because he’s in pain and not telling us, which yes, I am a little annoyed about, but it’s Donnie, so I expect it. It’s more of the fact that he’s prioritizing us over him, but then turning around and being mean about it.” Raph hummed. “I didn’t want to admit it, but what Leo said… kind of feels right. It’s like what I’m teaching him is going right over his head.” He slumps further into Raph.

“Raph get’s ya. We all know that Donnie struggles with this kind of stuff, emotions and what not. And if it's now backed by chronic pain, then… then we don’t know what he’s thinking, do we? We can’t read his mind but we can do our best to guide him back to some… healthier choices.”

“What if he doesn’t listen? He’s been saying to us for a while now that he’s fine, claiming we’re being dramatic, but now we find out he’s lying?”

“Did you believe him before?” Raph was finding it a little difficult to accept that he was the only out of the loop here. Leo and Mikey had their suspicions, handling it quite differently, but still, and their father had a proper-ish conversation about it. Yet, Raph never got that far. Sure, he noticed a few things off here and there, but never this bad until he shut himself off. Yet another topic for therapy…

“Yes!” Mikey raised his voice slightly, throwing his hands up. “I wanted to, at least. He had told me that he was just busy and tired, out of shape, you know? It made sense, everything has been difficult since the invasion and Donnie dealing with more exhaustion wasn't that hard to understand. Insomnia can really tear someone down, so I just,” He hesitated, “assumed he was being honest. It made things…”

When Mikey trailed off, Raph took a shot at finishing his thought. “Easier?”

Mikey nodded after a moment. “Easier. I was worried but I didn’t want to be pushy, like Leo, because that was clearly making things worse.” His voice carried more gloom than he intended.

“What makes you think Leo was making it worse?”

“I mean, did you see them?! I know Leo is worried, we all are, but he’s been so mean about it! If he’s concerned about Donnie, then getting all snappy about it is not the way to go! He’s got so much attitude when he talks to Donnie and doesn't even consider listening to him, so it’s really no wonder why Dee’s been pissed off about it.”

Raph thought silently for a moment, choosing his words carefully. “I agree that Leo isn’t going about this all that well. But he’s carrying around a lot of grief and guilt right now, and, well, he doesn't know how to handle guilt properly.” He shivered at the memory of watching Leo throw himself into the prison dimension.

“Why would he be feeling guilty?”

“He probably blames himself for Donnie’s pain. Just as he did with my eye and your arms. But now this is new, so he’s falling back through that cycle of blaming himself.”

Mikey sat up, using Raph's plastron as a stabilizer. “But we’ve been working through that in therapy and he’s doing really well! He doesn’t look at you or I with that overwhelming sadness anymore. He knows it's not his fault.”

“Just because he’s getting better doesn’t mean it’s all going to go away in one go. Like you said, he was working through that pain with regards to us, not Donnie.” Raph scoots himself back up against the wall so he can match Mikey. “And with that grief I mentioned, he’s facing the loss of Donnie, in part, and that’s probably elevating everything he’s feeling. He gets overzealous and overprotective when he feels at fault. Without Donnie to be there for him, he freaks out more. So, with all that combined and with Donnie’s worse-than-usual emotional absence, he’s not fairing that well.”

Mikey heavily sighed, his eyes falling into his lap. His face fell slightly. 

Raph rested a hand on his shoulder. Raph was familiar with this look. “You’re doing great, Mikey.” He said softly. Mikey looked up, his eyebrows pinched together. “You’re not doing a bad job at helping us, it’s not your fault we’ve all got these problems, okay? We’re all struggling, you included, and this whole thing isn’t going to blow over in a matter of a few months.” Raph opened his other arm, an invitation for a hug that Mikey gladly took as he buried his face into Raph’s shoulder. “And you can’t do it all by yourself, either, big guy. You’re doing a great job. Thanks to you, we’re all healing a bit better.”

Mikey sniffed. “I’m upset that I’m mad at them. I shouldn’t be mad at them, it’s not fair.”

“Ah, well, we’re brothers. It’s bound to happen, there’s no shame in it.” Raph hugged his little brother closer, “We’ll work through it. Everything will be okay.”

______________

Leo had a very bad feeling in his chest but he didn’t know why. He’d been antsy all morning, and now that noon had just about passed, it was getting worse. His foot was bouncing as his hands tapped at his plastron. The whole day had been moving at a snail's pace. He’d woken up early, much to his dismay. He had to sit through breakfast, unable to see his twin because he was supposedly sleeping. The late morning dragged on, nothing seeming to grasp his attention for longer than ten minutes. Leo felt like he was going crazy. He was sitting in the kitchen as Mikey was making sandwiches for lunch. 

“You’re gonna bruise yourself if you keep tapping like that.” Mikey said, slicing Raph’s sandwich in half, diagonally. “Are you okay?”

Leo shook his head, “I don’t know, I’ve just got a bad feeling about something.” His voice was quiet.

Mikey turned around, setting down the plate for whenever Raph got there. “You want to go ask Donnie what he wants on his sandwich?”

Leo stood up immediately, still staring at the table. “Yeah, I’ll go do that.” He said, a bit too quickly. He hurried off to Donnie’s lab. While they hadn’t seen Donnie exit his room at any point that day, it was a fair assumption that he snuck in there without notice.

His hand hesitated over the lab doors for a moment before knocking. Unsurprisingly, Donnie did not answer and he had to wait a few seconds before it slid open. His lab was colder than usual, which wasn’t at all comforting for Leo. A fainter hum of machinery filled the space, about half of the usual tech functioning. A few lights remained on, as if he’d been in there recently, but Donnie himself was not present in the sterile work space. 

Maybe he was still sleeping. 

Leo took a calming breath before going to their rooms. Knocking on Donnie’s door, Leo was still tense. He figured he’d relax a bit, the idea of Donnie getting a proper amount of sleep was supposed to be a good thing, but he was worried that once that door opened, he’d see his twin bundled up in bed and back to shutting himself off from the world. 

But when the door responded after four seconds, Leo almost wished his fear would have been real. Because Donnie’s room was empty. Pinching his brows together, Leo made his way to Donnie’s bed, assuring that he wasn’t somehow folded into a tiny ball. He wasn’t.

The bad feeling running rampant in his heart cranked up, his breath hitching. Leo stood still, observing his twin’s room. No signs of anything strange and out of place. Where was Donnie?

He couldn’t have slipped past him earlier, could he? No, Donnie would have stopped in his lab if he saw the door open.

Okay. Backtrack. Check the other rooms. Don’t jump to conclusions. That’s not going to do any good.

Donnie, as expected, was not in any of his brothers’ rooms. The bathroom was open, so another box painfully checked off. The living room was only inhabited by Splinter, who had passed out on his chair after milk and cake. So that meant Donnie wasn’t in Splinter’s room either, for some reason. Panic kept rising in Leo’s chest, every room he cleared making it worse.

With as much fear as he imagined, he made his way back to the kitchen, the last room to check.

As he entered, seeing Raph mid-bite of his sandwich and Mikey humming softly as he assembled another, Leo’s heart dropped. Donnie was gone.

“Hey, Lee, what did Donnie end up wanting?” Mikey asked, noticing his brother standing still.

“Donnie’s missing.” Leo said.

Raph halted, eyes peering up in sudden fear. “What do you mean Donnie’s missing?”

“I mean, Donnie is missing . He’s nowhere in the lair. I checked every room. He’s not in his lab and judging by your faces, he didn’t somehow sneak past me.”

Raph stood, sending his chair flying behind him. Mikey tore off his apron, throwing it to the side.

“I’ll go tell dad. You two, go to his lab and see if you can find anything that could cause him to leave. Check his communicator and tracker, it should be up on one of the screens.” Raph ordered, realizing Leo’s fear was preventing him from formulating some sort of plan. 

Mikey took the lead back to Donnie’s lab as Leo faltered.

Observing the space, Mikey was looking around for projects while Leo looked at one of the monitors. All of their trackers, which they were still yet to locate on themselves, were present and stable. Except Donnie’s. Leo managed to refresh the system, but the loading screen took far too long, dragging out his shaking fear even longer. 

Once the screen refreshed, the first three icons adjusted to their locations across the lair. Zooming out, Leo caught sight of a blinking, purple marker that belonged to Donnie. It was somewhere not far from the lair exit. What was he doing out there? Especially now?

Why was it blinking?

Leo found the cursor and hovered it over digital Donnie. The text took a moment to load, a small warning appearing at the bottom corner of another monitor of low battery going off, but once the text appeared, Leo felt cold.

Last known location.

Transmission failure: Battery died

Time of failure: 12:41 AM

“Mikey,” Leo whispered, “Mikey get over here.” The box turtle rushed over and peered over Leo’s shoulder. His breath hitched.

“AM?” He questioned. His eyes widened, “Leo, we need to go find him. Now .”

Leo was already turning around. The two ran out of the lab, Leo painfully slower as he limped, but he moved as swiftly as he could.

Mikey hollered to his brother and father. Raph quickly met up with the two, effortlessly sweeping Leo into his arms. “Pops, stay here in case he comes back before we find him, we’ll keep you updated.”

The three ran off into the underground tunnels, pausing at the spot Donnie’s tracker had last signaled his location. There was no sign of him anywhere.

“Where could he have been going?” Mikey asked, peeking around a few nearby corners. They were in the most central tunnel crossing, water flowing quickly between each walkway.

Leo concentrated, thinking about what had happened leading up to this. He snapped his fingers. “Power! There was a strange mix of powered on and dead machinery in his lab, which isn’t common for Donnie. Even his monitors were warning me about the battery.”

Raph looked up at him, confused and wanting more context. 

“Donnie had his battle shell on during those four days, which means he didn’t take active action with his tech before he stopped working on them. If he left the power on for four days straight,”

“The battery would be fried!” Raph finished. “Where does he get his energy sources?”

“Hidden City, typically.” Mikey rejoined. “There's a stall in the night market that sells pretty strong mystic energy capsules.”

“If the battery disconnected at 12:41, why would he still be gone, thirteen hours later? Even without my swords, it would only take about fourty-five minutes one way, if you go through our typical Hidden City entrance. He should have been back by like… 5 AM latest.” Leo reasoned.

They were quiet for a moment.

“Unless he never made it there in the first place.” Raph whispered.

They were running again, their fear keeping them silent. They ran through the familiar tunnels, unsure of where they would find their brother. There was always the chance he was somewhere lost in the Hidden City, but all of them were too afraid to voice that fear. 

Where are you, Donnie…

Leo tried to slow his breathing, knowing he would need to present for whatever state they found his twin in.

Whatever state we find him in? The thought made him sick.

Mikey ran up ahead, his voice calling behind him to keep his brothers updated.

After just a few minutes of running, Leo still in Raph's arms, Mikey released a small cry before calling Donnie’s name. The other two quickly looked at each other as Raph moved faster.

At the base of the tunnel exit, Donnie was lying on the ground, his back pressed against the cold stone. Leo climbed out of Raph’s grasp and ran to his brother. Donnie’s breathing was rugged and unstable, broken up by a few whines and cries. There was the slightest bit of movement beneath Donnie’s eyelids.

Leo kneeled down and pressed the side of his tympanum into Donnie’s plastron. His beating heart was inconsistent, but it was beating. Not too slow, but definitely too fast at times. He sat back, assessing the rest of his body. “Donnie, are you with me?” He didn’t seem responsive, but didn’t appear completely unconscious either. Hating the idea, Leo slowly reached for Donnie’s face and lifted his eyelids. As his eyes rolled forward, Leo grabbed his phone and shined a light into his pupils. Leo released a heavy breath as both eyes responded equally.

Moving on from potential head trauma, Leo noticed the swollen joints on Donnie’s left side. His shoulder was swollen and red, much like his knee, which had developed intense bruising overtop his skin. “Dislocation.” Leo cringed. He’d have to set Donnie’s bones back. He never struggled with that idea before and he’d done it plenty of times over the years. April had away with dislocating her fingers when they were kids, so it wasn’t a foreign procedure. But doing it on Donnie? It was terrifying. “Oh, I wish Junior was here, right now.”

“Can you do it?” Mikey asked slowly. “Safely?”

Leo didn’t blame him for his doubt. He was doubting himself, then. He nodded grimly. “Yes. Remember when I put your shoulder back in place when you were nine?” He asked, trying to lighten the mood.

Mikey shivered, “Not fun.”

“No, no it wasn’t.” He took a deep breath. “I can’t do this right now, though. I don’t know how bad the dislocations are, I need an X-ray. And a sedative, preferably.”

“What do you think happened?” Raph asked, lowering himself opposite of Leo. “And what should we do?”

Leo gulped. “He doesn’t appear to have a concussion. We need to get him back to the med bay asap. Get him on painkillers, probably an IV if he’s been down here for…” He stopped. “If he’s been down here for thirteen hours.” He forced out. “I don’t know how long it’s been since he last ate, probably yesterday night, but that also means he’s dehydrated.”

Donnie stirred slightly below them, but didn’t wake. His face pinched in pain, groaning.

Leo looked around, looking for answers, afraid his first guess was right. But there was no other option. The way he was facing, impact evident on his side, the intense bruising running up his arms and plastron, he knew what happened. “He fell from the ladder.” He muttered.

Mikey stifled a gasp. “But… but why would that happen?”

Leo bit his lip. “Muscle weakness. His battle shell is out of battery, I’m guessing, which means he had to climb up by himself. If it’s fibromyalgia, or some other condition I’m speculating, his muscles probably gave out at some point. Meaning he fell. From how high, I don’t know.” Leo rested a hand over Donnie’s, feeling his quivering twin. “Raph, I need you to very carefully lift him up. I’ll portal us back home.” He muttered, standing up.

Mikey brought his hands out anxiously. “You haven’t opened a portal since… you know. Are you going to be okay?”

“I’ll be fine, Mikey,” He smiled, “If I can’t do it, I’ll stop, but I need to try. For Donnie.” Unsheathing one of his katanas, Leo inhaled deeply through his nose before slicing through the air. He felt a familiar buzz run through his arms and head as a bright line of blue appeared in the air in front of him. Within seconds, all of Leo’s energy was zapped from him, but the portal unfolded, creating a doorway into their med bay.

Raph, who had slowly placed Donnie in his arms, took a tentative step forward and walked through the portal. The other turtles followed suit, Mikey throwing Leo’s arm over his shoulder to help him walk after he returned his swords.

Limping into their home, Raph carefully placed their injured brother into the bed and Leo went to the numerous scanners Donnie had engineered so long ago. Wheeling them over the bed, a very useful addition his twin had added, Leo waved away Raph and turned the machine on. He centered on Donnie’s shoulder first, letting the X-ray run for a few painfully long minutes. Mikey sat beside the bed, biting his nails while Raph paced around close by.

“Mikey, can you prepare the IV, please.” Leo said, clicking through a few screens. Mikey nodded and without a word, got to work.

As the first scan finished, the brothers heard footsteps rapidly approach the med bay. Splinter burst through the door, worry in his eyes. “Purple!” He called. Raph stopped him from moving to the bed.

“Not yet, pops. Give Leo a minute.” Raph began filling in their father on what happened and what they speculated had occurred over night. 

Leo moved the scan to go over Donnie’s left knee, and let it run. Just as it wrapped up, Mikey finished the IV. Leo did one more glance over Donnie. There didn’t appear to be any more injuries, no signs of internal bleeding, no broken bones, nothing that would warrant a scan. He had to fight himself to not include a full body scan. “Mikey or Raph, can you get the painkillers going?” Mikey obliged.

He projected the X-rays onto the larger monitors, sat down, and scanned his eyes over the injuries. Seeing as he wasn’t cold to the touch, the circulation hadn’t been affected too seriously and the grey-scale pictures in front of him confirmed that. They weren’t major dislocations, easy enough to set back into place without raising too many difficulties, but Donnie would definitely be feeling it when he woke up.

Leo rolled his chair over to Donnie’s bed and looked at his messed up joints again. He hadn’t noticed Raph come up behind him until he rested a hand over Leo’s shoulder.

“You’ve got this, Lee. Take it slow, you know what you’re doing.”

Leo nodded and took a gentle hold of Donnie’s arm. His breathing had steadied, the painkillers working swiftly. He brought Donnie's forearm forward and up, gently rotating the bent arm out to his side until he felt the tension build up. He put a hand below Donnie’s elbow and began lifting up his arm, and after a long moment, he saw his shoulder slip back into place.

Leo sat back, watching Donnie as if he’d fall to pieces at any minute. “Got it?” Raph asked.

Leo nodded. “Yeah, not bad. Went a lot smoother than Mikey’s shoulder.” He laughed softly.

“Never thought that’d be something to compare.” Mikey smiled. Leo moved down the bed to Donnie’s knee.

One more time. You’ve got this . He’d relocated knees significantly less, so his confidence was a bit lower. But he’d watched plenty of videos before, the process still crystal clear in his memory.

The family watched in baited silence as Leo worked around Donnie’s knee. It only took another two minutes before Leo finished up. He pressed his palms into his forehead and dispelled a quick breath. “Okay, I’ll get the IV in and then we’ll be all set until he wakes up.”

Over the next hour, Leo kept himself at Donnie’s bed, a hand in his. Donnie relaxed further into his sleep, his tech discarded to the side. Raph assisted Leo in removing the battle shell, but he dealt with everything else on his own. He urged his brothers to go get a proper meal, since lunch had been interrupted. 

Splinter called Draxum. Once the scientist arrived, he said something about how the Hamatos basically welcomed trouble. No one could deny it. But Draxum would be there when Donnie woke up, relieving some of the pressure from Leo’s shoulders. Nevertheless, Leo didn’t leave his twin's side. He wasn’t sure what to do when Donnie woke up, but that was a problem for later.

Chapter Text

Couldn’t even go a day of having Donnie back before he threw himself into some danger. Back before the invasion, it was always Leo getting himself into trouble. Making stupid, rash, poor decisions. Really dug into Raph’s skin and all. Donnie was the one to drag him out of the consequences, scolding him but also caring, in that weird, rude Donnie way.

Now, sitting in the med bay, where Leo swore he spent more time in than any other room, he couldn’t help but feel like they had swapped places. How could something distress his twin so much that he starts acting like Leo ? Honestly, how dare Donnie steal Leo’s deal. How very rude of him. And worrying of him. Very, very worrying.

All of Leo’s research had come up pretty empty handed or too broad. The internet and medical books didn’t offer much in terms of fibromyalgia, a lot of repeated information across the far too lengthy articles. Not a well understood condition, apparently. Even Draxum couldn’t allow much insight. He knew of the symptoms and basic therapy for it, but that’s where his knowledge ended. The cause was unknown, but it was usually genetic. So someone in the Hamato line had been unwell and nobody knew, or at least didn’t investigate further. Guess it ran in the family.

But it wasn’t easy, that much was clear. Inconsistent symptoms, inconsistent suffering. Too much range to narrow down what Donnie was going through. Too much to sort through, too much to understand. It felt like there were no limits to what could be wrong. It was different for every patient, some article said. Fibromyalgia is a catch-all condition, said another. Then there was an article disputing that fact. Honestly, there were simply too many articles to maintain Leo’s sanity. He’d just have to wait for Donnie to open up. Which, looking at the hypothetical timeline, wasn’t looking to be very soon!

As he slept, Leo carefully peeled off Donnie’s arm wraps to observe how the skin had healed over the past day. Donnie’s skin was significantly less reddened than the prior afternoon, which was good to see. Even so, Leo prepared more of the healing salve and went through the process of reapplying it and rebandaging his arms. “Princess really needs his beauty sleep, huh?” Leo muttered as his twin hadn’t responded one bit to the movement. “At least you’re sleeping. Beggars can’t be choosers, I guess.” Leo huffed and slightly massaged his thighs before standing up.

Checking his vitals, Donnie seemed stable. This certainly wasn’t a coma, though Leo feared it was close. His breathing was shallow and he was relatively unresponsive to most stimuli. He had some eye movement, just on his own terms, as was most things with Donnie. His eyes twitched to his dreams, Leo imagined, but even with light tests and contact testing, he wouldn’t respond. Even in recovery, he wouldn’t let anything control him.

Donnie had extensive bruising along his arms and legs, his shell littered with them too. His skin was icy, his shoulders shaking slightly as he breathed. There were already three blankets atop Donnie, and yet, the cold never seemed to cease. Leo remembered his twin constantly complaining about the cold during the past week before his depressive episode. Leo pulled out his phone and typed something into the search bar, full of typos, but it got the message. Turns out, yes, temperature sensitivity was an uncommon symptom of fibromyalgia. Even worse, the cold made the symptoms stronger.

Speaking of worsened symptoms, he had spent too much time in the med bay and his legs were starting to hurt. He needed to stretch his legs and get some water before he lost his mind.

Walking into the kitchen, Draxum was discussing something futile with Mikey as the box turtle was cooking dinner. “Leo! How’s Dee doing?” Mikey asked after catching sight of his brother.

Leo shrugged as he pulled a glass out of the cabinet. “He’s good, stable. Still unconscious, if that’s what you’re wondering.” He filled the cup with water and leaned against the counter, crossing his bad leg over the somewhat-less bad one.

Mikey nodded and returned to the oven. Draxum lowered his voice to speak to Leo. “Tests came back, I had them sent over to the med bay screens.”

“Perfect, thank you.”

“I still think it was a bad idea to do that.”

“Yeah, well,” Leo waved him off, “He’ll get over it. If he ever finds out, that is.” He kicked himself away from the counter, chugging half of his water in one go before walking off. He had test results to go through.

Waltzing back into the med bay, Leo was humming a song he’d heard from Mikey periodically. Of course, the only five minutes of which he decided to leave his twin alone was the exact time he decided to wake up. Much to Leo’s surprise, Donnie was sitting up in his bed with a blank expression in his eyes. “Hey, Dee, how ya feeling?”

Silence.

“For sure, uhhh, little recap for you,” Leo sat down on his wheely chair and set his water on a table. “We found you in the sewers a few hours ago. Dislocated shoulder and knee, both of which have been put back. So, if you’re feeling any extra pain, that would be the cause.” He made sure to add some flair to the ‘extra’ part, insinuating that he was well aware that Donnie was in pain. Arguably, making the air more tense than it already was.

Donnie hummed, his expression near impossible to read. But Leo had always been an exception to Donnie’s flat face. There was a hint of anger in his eyes, shown by the slight downward angle of his now smudged eyebrows.

“What happened out there, hermano ?” Beside the bed, Leo had one of his mobile med screens, which slightly obscured his vision. He moved the screen away from the bed and gently rested his hands next to Donnie. No contact, but proof that he was there if Donnie needed him.

“Nothing.” He whispered.

“That’s fine, you can tell us later-”

“What were those tests?” He asked, eyes straight forward. 

Leo directed his attention to the mobile screen. The screen was bright, a few test results displayed in a range of colors and analyses. Oh, he saw them. Damnit, Draxum… Well, there goes that. “Uh, just some…” he hesitated. This was a delicate situation, one that could go smoothly or poorly. He preferred the former. “Routine tests to make sure you’re okay. Since you know… passed out in the sewers for thirteen hours.” He jazzed up his voice slightly.

“Blood tests.” Donnie stated.

Leo nodded curtly, “Blood tests.” He concurred.

“Nothing would have required a blood test.” He still refused to meet Leo’s gaze.

Leo popped his lips, “I felt they were necessary.” He said after a moment. Which wasn’t necessarily a lie– Leo did feel they were necessary, just not for the current topic of concern. “Besides, I’m the medic here. Not you.” He kept his voice gentle, maintaining his promise to be nice, but still wanting to be assertive.

“I’m not a medic, but I’m not stupid , either.” Donnie muttered.

Leo sat back, “Never said you were.”

“You tested my blood without my permission.” He snapped quietly. “That’s unethical practice.”

“Unethical practice?” Leo sputtered, “You were hurt, I had to make sure you were okay!” Again, not a lie, just applicable to exterior concerns that he wasn’t openly admitting at the time. Even if it was the sole truth, why couldn’t Donnie accept that he needed help? Why wouldn’t he let his family help him?

“Your delusions cannot dictate actions regarding my body. You experimented on me without my consent." It was chilling how flat his voice was.

“Experimented? Donnie, you’re being ridiculous.” Leo stood, “It’s my responsibility to ensure my brothers, my family , are okay. Ethical or not.”

Leo stared at his brother, hurt and confusion reaping his face. Donnie had zero expression, zero remorse, zero understanding. What was his problem? Why was he so defensive? Donnie was taking this too far.

The silence was painfully disturbing. Leo slowly dragged the screen back to him, looking briefly over the test results. It only confirmed Leo’s theories, as Donnie’s thyroids didn’t appear to have any complications going on, so that ruled out Hashimoto's Disease. Donnie didn’t move as Leo looked, his hands placed carefully atop his lap as his breathing intensified. He exhaled sharply through his nose and his jaw stiffened. Leo didn’t get the chance to look at the second blood test.

“Get out.” He said after a long moment.

“Excuse me?” Leo was shocked.

“I said get out.” Donnie restated, his voice sharper that time.

“Donnie, I’m not leaving.” Leo retorted,  “I need to make sure you’re-”

“Get. Out. Leonardo.”

Leo’s shoulders tensed, pressure rising in his chest. Donnie used his full name. Leonardo. Donnie never used their full names, let alone his. Leo took a deep breath, clenching his fists at his side. He started biting his lower lip, thinking of something to say, but then Donnie slid his eyes to look at him, hardly moving the rest of his body. The deep, infuriated look that shadowed his face was enough to make Leo give up. This wasn’t worth it. Not yet, at least. Leo was too upset. He was too lost in his emotions, angry and grieving. His and Donnie’s poor attitudes were not going to mix. Only problems would arise from an extended argument, and Leo was already barely hanging onto a good relationship with his twin through this frustrating issue. So, despite his internal disputes, he stormed out of the med bay with a fiery heat behind his eyes.

Donnie didn’t want help. Fine. Be that way. He could wallow in his pain to his heart's content, for all Leo cared. He could sit and agonize over his problems, make everything worse, forcefully deteriorate, let his pride take over. Whatever. If that’s what he wanted, then so be it.

________________

Donnie was immobile. Every muscle in his body burned with a raging fire. He could hardly lift his leg more than a centimeter off of the uncomfortable med bay bed, his arms barely strong enough to move from his side, his shoulders ached at every movement. His left leg felt electrified, striking pain lacing up his joints and singeing his nerves. It was one of the most excruciating pains he had experienced thus far. It was greater in mass, more persistent, hardly anything compared. His body was numb with pain, all strength far out of reach. He was stuck in this bed. Stuck where he felt helpless and useless.

And Leo. Leo, who forcefully tested his blood, who violated his comfort for the sake of his own curiosity. Leo, who fought with him about his own dignity. “ It’s my responsibility to ensure my brothers, my family , are okay. Ethical or not”. He had said. It wasn’t his right to take from Donnie the way he had. Did Donnie overreact? Maybe. But at the time, he didn’t feel as though he did. He wasn’t ready to address his problems and Leo didn’t have the right to force his way into that. Donnie could deal with his issues by himself, that’s what he did. He was a man who lived in solitude with his tech and no emotions, who could deal with his pain by himself. Especially now, after he was supposed to be helping his brothers. He wasn’t supposed to be sick, to be hurting, so he would look past that fault in the plan until later. Leo wasn’t supposed to do this. It was pushy and inconsiderate.

But now he couldn’t move. Every command he made to his body, a demand to move, to ignore the irrevocable pain, was dismissed. It fought back with its own arms, signals of petrifying agony shooting through his muscles. His breathing was sharp and aggressive, each breath like sandpaper riding up his throat, like daggers in his back and lungs. Each twitch of a finger, each nudge of a shoulder, responded with every ounce of energy he could muster zapped into nothing. He was becoming nothing.

________________

When Leo stormed out of the med bay, face reddened by tears, Mikey was at a loss for words. What was with those two? It was like at every turn, they were at each other's throats. They had never been so at odds with one another. 

“You’ve got to be kidding,” Mikey muttered, soapy dishes in his hands. He dropped them quickly into the sink and wiped his hands on his apron before running to the kitchen entrance to catch his brothers, “Leo-!”

“I don't care anymore!” He called back, turning on his heel to face Mikey. Tears were streaming down his face, a scowl deeply ingrained in his features. “He can do whatever the hell he wants. I’m done caring about someone who couldn’t care less about his health. Whatever. I’m done .” His voice broke as he spoke, giving away that there was hardly any truth to his words. Anger was coursing through him, making him say things he didn’t mean. Whatever this was, whatever outburst had just occurred, would pass. But his tone, his indignation, was convincing. Leo was beyond upset, a loss that was tearing through him like a wild animal tore through its prey. Convincing enough that Leo didn’t seem to believe he’d ever go back to caring for Donnie’s health.

Mikey threw his hands up in defeat as Leo continued to run off. Draxum and Splinter were waiting, wide eyes and lost, when the box turtle turned back around, aghast. 

Stay calm, Dr. Feelings relayed in his mind. They’re going through something . That something was starting to get annoying. Mikey groaned, returning to his dirty dishes.

Splinter muttered something and Mikey could see Draxum shake his head from the corner of his eye. Great, now one of his dads was in cahoots with Leo and his annoyances. “Orange?” Splinter began to ask.

“Don’t even start, because I seriously don’t know.” He leaned his head back and took a deep breath. “I’ll go check on Donnie in a minute.” He decided after a moment of silence. He had set aside a simple dinner of a smoothie bowl for Donnie, something easy to digest in case his stomach wasn’t faring well. He would eat something, Mikey would make sure of it.

He finished up his chore, washed his hands and grabbed the bowl out of the fridge. Sinking a spoon into the purple food, he made his way to the med bay. Pushing open the door, he saw his older brother propped against the head board of the bed, face expressionless and unmoving.

“Evening, Dee.” He sighed in passing as he went to the bedside table. There was a half-full glass of water sitting on it, condensation pooling at the bottom. Must have been the glass Leo came out for earlier. He moved it to the side and placed the bowl down gently. “Smoothie bowl for you. I promise there’s no bananas.”

“Thanks.” Donnie mumbled. He blinked slowly, face slightly pinching as he tilted his head towards Mikey. He only kept it there for a moment before returning to his straightforward gaze.

Mikey stood there, waiting for Donnie to take the food. That boy was going to eat, or so help Dr. Delicate Touch. “Donnie,”

“I’m fine.” He answered far too quickly.

“I hadn’t implied you weren’t?” Now he thought Donnie wasn’t fine. Well, he already thought that way, but now it was a stronger feeling.

Donnie swallowed.

“You gonna eat?” Mikey pushed. 

“In a minute.”

“Okay…” Mikey, suspecting the problem, decided to observe from afar. “I’ll leave you to your devices, then.” He stepped out of the med bay but kept himself nearby. He pressed his back against the walls, peering over his shoulder to watch Donnie. As he suspected, it took his brother a minute before he reached for the food. Well, attempted would be a better word. His arms hardly flinched while his face crumbled from pain. Pinching his eyebrows together, Donnie’s arms moved up an inch, shaking aggressively. Barely five seconds they were up before his arms collapsed into his lap, Donnie releasing a heavy breath. Mikey watched as he tried a few more times, a small cry escaping through his teeth on his third attempt. Suspicions now confirmed, Mikey walked back into the room. Catching sight of him, Donnie sucked in a sharp breath, slightly scared but clearly annoyed.

“Can’t move the arms, huh?” He asked, his voice heavy with empathy and understanding. He had faced this before, during the first month after the invasion. His tremors and pain would run so deep, there were days when he couldn’t move his arms at all. Donnie had been the one to help, back then. Fed him, wrapped his arms in bandages, carried his things. About time he could repay the favor. The thought warmed his heart, all those times of thanking his older brother finally ended in a helpful payback. “Come on, I’ll help-”

“No.” Donnie cut him off, abruptly. “I’m fine. I can eat by myself.”

Mikey flattened his mouth, returning to his spot beside the bed. “Uh-huh, I’m sure.”

“I don’t need help.”

Mikey picked the bowl up and sat himself in a near-by chair. “Then stop me.” He said, with all seriousness. “Stop me and prove that you can eat by yourself. If not,” he dramatically crossed his leg over his other knee, “I’m going to help you eat, just as you’ve done for me.”

Donnie’s eyes fell to his lap. He looked as though he was trying to find strength, but he remained still. Mikey sighed, picking up the spoon and filling it with the first bite. He held the spoon to Donnie's face and waited. The purple turtle looked away.

“Dee, I’m gonna put this on your face if you don’t eat it right now.” Mikey ordered. Donnie gave in, not wanting the sensory struggle of food on his face , and clamped his teeth over the spoon. Mikey smiled. “You know,” he started softly, “there’s no shame in needing help from us. You were stuck in the cold sewers for half a day, no one expects you to be functioning all that well right now.”

Donnie didn’t return his looks, spitefully eating as Mikey fed him without saying a word. He was eating, which, at that point, was plenty for Mikey. He could work through the emotional complications with his brother momentarily. For now, he had to keep reinforcing that he was there for Donnie, no matter what. There was no shame in helping. There was no shame in being weak. He just had to get that through Donnie’s thick skull.

Donnie had always been so smart, so logical, so at this point, as Donnie bit back at him, refused to look him in the eyes, only spoke with spite and attitude, Mikey finally understood why Leo was getting so frustrated. If this was the attitude Donnie was approaching Leo with every time he had wanted to help, it would have been exhausting.

“Donnie,” He started again as they finished up the food.

“Don't.” Donnie butt in.

“Do not tell me that, Dee.” Mikey sat back. “What is going on? Why are you being so mean?”

Donnie’s jaw tightened. He rolled his eyes and looked away. “Get out, please.” His attempts at a more gentle tone were hardly paying off, the anger in his voice seeping out like smoke.

“Dee-”

“I don’t want to talk about it. Leave me alone.” And there went the effort he was putting in. “Get out.” He bit.

Mikey could tell when he was fighting a losing battle. Donnie was forcefully pushing back, far more than he  usually would when maintaining his emotional-unavailability look. 

So he listened. This conversation, or fight, as Donnie was viewing it, wasn’t going to go anywhere. He stood up, took the bowl, and left without another word. Mikey wanted to be there for his brother, he wanted to make up for where Leo was faltering, but every interaction seemed to justify Leo’s anger. He’d address these problems another time, when Donnie was less riled up. They’d have therapy again soon. The goal was now to get Donnie to open up a little more before than, therefore allowing a more open discussion. Hopefully, that wasn’t too optimistic of an ask.

Chapter Text

Master Leonardo was leading an expedition further into Kraang territories, Commander O’Neil at his right hand. Uncle Angelo was nowhere to be found, likely meditating away deep in the lair, strengthening his mind and mysticism. Uncle Tello had been locked away in his lab for two days, one of those times when the young boy never saw his uncle, only ever heard his voice on rare occasions. It was the worst possible time for Casey to have had a nightmare. He wasn’t supposed to be awake that night, but then again, his mother wasn’t supposed to have died. Those nightmares persisted no matter what he was supposed to be doing.

Casey desperately needed comfort. He needed a parent, an aunt or uncle, somebody to make him realize he wasn’t alone.

The hideout was quiet, the night watch-outs keeping their attention plastered to the distant lights that Kraang technology emitted far off in the distance. A few people lingered here and there as Casey wandered the halls, tracing the wall with his hand. He sniffed as tears fell down his cheeks, memories of his mother playing in his mind, rudely accompanied by a death he had never seen, recurring over and over again until he wanted nothing more than to break down on the floor and weep until there was nothing left to give. Not that there was much for a six-year-old to give, but what he had, he would gravely leave for the idea of being held in his mother's arms again.

His cries became more vocal as he walked towards the kitchen. He didn’t know who he was looking for. Casey wasn’t close with any more of the Resistance adults– the Hamatos were his family, April included, but that’s where it ended. The other adults were nice, of course, but they had their own family and kids to look after. It didn’t help that he was Master Leonardo’s kind-of-kid, which meant everyone was scared of him, to a degree. Afraid of messing up and reaping the consequences, his kind-of totally-his-dad would provide in the situation where Casey got hurt. 

At some point, he ended up in front of the Genius Built™ Tech Lab. He rested a hand against the door, his grief and sadness making him forget about his Uncle’s ‘do not disturb’ time. When he knocked and received no response after too many seconds, Casey's crying intensified. He just wanted his uncle, even if it was the one he was the least close to. He was scared and alone, the shadowed hallways of the hideout illustrating the nightmares he was running from. His little legs began to shake, and he collapsed onto the floor, emotions overwhelming him.

It was only a few minutes until someone came to his side, someone Casey recognized but wasn't familiar with. 

“CJ, buddy, what are you doing out here?” One of Uncle Tello's assistants asked, gently crouching next to the crying boy. “You know we're not allowed in there, right now.”

Casey started sobbing again, relentlessly dragging his small hands across his face to stop the tears from running into his mouth. Unsure of how to soothe the child, the assistant’s hands wavered and her face contorted with confusion. “Uh, okay, what am I supposed to do here?” She muttered, biting at a fingernail. When the little boy in front of her didn't stop crying, she began to panic. “What's wrong, hun? Why do you need Master Donatello?” She was never good with kids…

Casey attempted to speak through his broken cries. “My momma…” He sniffed, “My momma is gone and I want,” he couldn't keep speaking, aggressive hiccups overtaking his control, “My uncle,” he managed to say, hand resting back against the door. 

“Oh, jeez, I don't get paid enough for this.” She whispered. In reality, she didn't get paid at all, which was justification enough to not know how to handle a crying, grieving child. The assistant stood, frowning at the decision she had made. “Master Donatello is gonna kill me…” She went to the control panel at the side of the door, Casey watching her through foggy, teary vision. Her hands hesitated before she jammed in a few buttons in an odd, cryptic way, until the panel beeped and glitched for a moment. Crossing her fingers, the assistant pressed her lab ID into the scanner. Another long moment passed before the door unlocked, the pressure releasing from the frame, and it began sliding open. “Master Donatello is inside. Go ahead.” She looked at Casey briefly before running off, muttering something about kissing her job goodbye.

Casey pushed himself off the floor, still crying and hiccuping, and walked into the dimly lit lab. Donnie was at his desk, hunched over with mounds of blankets over his shoulders.

“I already told you, Mikey, I don't need more of your weird, late-night snacks.” He spoke quietly, his voice far more labored than Casey had ever heard. He sounded as though breathing was painful, speaking far worse. His voice was hoarse, forceful, yet distant. 

“Uncle Tello?” Casey pushed forward, ignoring his shaking legs. 

Donnie spun around in his chair, grimacing and flinching into the movement, clutching his abdomen as he buckled forward. He groaned and released a broken whine through clenched teeth. “Junior, what are you doing in here? How did you-” His words cut off as he exhaled sharply. Squeezing his eyes shut, he took a shaky, deep breath. 

When he looked back up and saw Casey's raw, tear-stricken face, he decided against finishing his harsher questioning. The turtle's face softened, though plenty confused. Even in his age, emotions weren't his strong suit.

At his shift in expression, Casey's fear of being rejected by his busy uncle faded, allowing his tears to start anew. “Come here, Junior.” Donnie waved his hands, bending down from his chair slightly. A few blankets slipped from their spot, sending a few shivers down his arms and spine.

When Casey made his way to his Uncle, Donnie reached out his arms and picked him up. Rather, he tried to pick him up. Donnie's arms shook as he attempted to lift the little boy, resistance meeting his muscles at every attempt. This was rather shocking for Casey, as being thrown around and held by the turtles was second nature. He was more frail than Leonardo would like to admit, but that was the reality of an apocalypse; there wasn't enough food to go around for Casey to properly grow. Therefore, Casey only weighed some fifty pounds, and his Uncle Tello had never struggled to lift him before. 

After another few measly attempts, Donnie's face giving away his aching struggles, Casey decided to take matters into his own hands and crawled up into Donnie's lap. Donnie let it happen, failing to hide his pained expression as Casey pressed into his joints and muscles, but Casey didn't know any better. Once he was situated, Donnie adjusted him to find the least painful way for the child to lean into him.

“What's going on, Junior?” He asked, voice still stressed and weak. He brought the blankets back around his shoulders, his movements slow and heavy, and wrapped them around the child before easing his chair back to his desk. He started typing and cycling through his work at a pace Casey deemed too slow for Donnie, but he wasn't sure what to make of it.

Once he mustered up the courage to speak, Casey sniffed, “I had a nightmare.” He muttered. “I saw my momma die. Then I couldn't find anyone, and I was scared I was gonna be all alone.”

Donnie was taken aback at how forward the boy was. He hated how easy death came to him, how early on in life he had to face it. Especially regarding his mother. Donnie took a slow breath and took his hands away from his keyboard, wrapping them around his nephew's body. He planted a gentle kiss atop his head and pulled him close. “You're not alone, Junior. You never will be. Did you want to talk about your nightmare?”

The boy shook his head, nestling into his uncle's hug. “I just don't want to be alone. I don't like how dark the rooms are, and I didn't want to wake the other kids.” He said through broken, light cries. His tears were dying down, but the haunting imagery of his mother's death kept his grief forward.

Catching onto his unrelenting cries, Donnie leaned to the side to get a skewed glance at Casey. Donnie moved him slightly, resting him on his left elbow and leg, a change that sent a new look of pain into his eyes. Ignoring the pain the best he could, Donnie took one of his knuckles and rubbed away the tears, the boy's hands latching onto his wrist. “Usually, I'm all about not talking about feelings, but Junior,” he said, ruffling his hair, “You're not going to feel better if you don't talk about it.” He said, recalling the repeated lessons from Dr. Feelings he had received over the decades. 

As much as Donnie would have liked to stay up later and work on his projects, the weight of his nephew felt like an anchor digging into his muscles, tearing them apart until he was left with nothing but weak bones, so he decided to call it a night while Casey thought on his words. He did one last check over his screens, assuring that the Kraang wouldn't be able to invade his technology through the night. “Here, go wait in my room. I'll be right there, then we can talk.” Donnie gave the kid a small nudge on his back as Casey shimmed off his lap. Hugging his arms close to his chest, Casey dragged himself across the lab where a large purple curtain separated his uncle's room. Having to use both his arms to pull back the fabric, he waited patiently at the foot of Donnie's bed.

He watched in strange anticipation, his uncle's movements foreign and wrong. He trembled as he moved, closing out unneeded tabs and unplugging chords to not waste their limited energy. Donnie's joints flinched and fell, having to take several attempts just to lift something small, to push something to the side, to do anything . He scooted around in his desk chair, not once using his legs, eventually using his staff to propel himself slowly into his room. “Come on, up up.” He laughed softly, poking at Casey’s feet with his bō. “I can’t lift you right now, you gotta get yourself up there.” His tone was joking, but underneath that, even a child could hear a hint of sadness and disappointment, the emotions pointed at himself. As Casey pressed his arms into the bed and swung his leg over the top, Donnie positioned his chair next to the boy and waited for him to get himself comfortable and seated against the wall.

There was a look of contemplation behind Donnie’s eyes, his drawn-on eyebrows slowly angling down. “Casey, could you turn around for just a moment? Or just close your eyes?”

That’s odd. What could possibly require Casey to shield his eyes from his uncle? Donnie never shied away from anything; he was the most upfront person Casey knew. Either way, Casey clamped his hands over his eyes, and once Donnie was satisfied, the curious child separated his fingers ever so slightly to watch what would happen.

Donnie heaved a dense breath, preparing himself for the onset of unbearable pain about to swarm him. Casey couldn’t understand what could cause such a look. Donnie never looked like that, never looked so weak, so… hopeless , almost. That didn’t feel right, but exhausted didn’t either. Uncle Tello was always tired. Casey couldn’t recall a time when he wasn’t.

His Uncle Tello took out his shaky arms from underneath the blankets and rested them on the mattress. He stood, face contorting in agony as something Casey couldn’t see ripped through his body. Within seconds, the color in Donnie’s face drained, turning him pale and sickly. Casey tried not to react, but it was a worrying sight. Seeing his uncle so injured and clearly unwell. It was terrifying. As soon as his Uncle Tello applied pressure to his legs, they began to shake, his knees unstable and thighs on the brink of giving up. His arms gave out under him just as he turned around and fell onto the bed, his chest shuttered as he forced himself through a particularly difficult breath, his arms encasing his abdomen. “Ow…” He faintly muttered. Casey tentatively removed his hands, pretending as though he hadn’t seen any of the brutal struggle he’d witnessed.

Casey bit his lip, waiting for his uncle to acknowledge him, unsure of how to act. Donnie turned around, his deep grimace replaced with a weak smile that could not conceal his pain, no matter how hard he tried. He pushed himself back, his arms violently shuddering as he leaned into them, but he managed to position himself the right way to fall onto his back and into the plush blankets and pillows. “Come forth,” Donnie joked, laying his arms out to the side. Casey crawled forward into his uncle's open arms. Donnie cradled the small boy and turned to the side, pulling the blankets over them. 

The warmth of his uncle's embrace quickly sent the tears back to his eyes, reminding him of when his mother would hug him as he slept, singing soft lullabies to ease her baby boy. The tears rapidly turned into sobs as he ducked his head into Donnie’s plastron, losing himself in grief. His uncle began running his hand over Casey’s hair, a soothing motion he knew Donnie had learned from his Grandpa Splinter.

His hands felt frail, their shakiness a new sensation to Casey, an unfamiliar weakness that he knew he couldn’t ask about. His Uncle Tello was a secretive man who didn’t talk much about himself on a personal level. Outside of Kraang dealings, if his thoughts and conversations weren’t about his tech or his brothers, he would hardly speak. His life remained covert, even to Casey, whom he knew full well Donnie considered his closest family. Even if there wasn’t an ounce of shared blood between them. So he didn’t push it. Besides, Casey’s emotional turmoil at that moment was too much to bear; his thoughts of his uncle’s pain hardly lingered as he cried.

Donnie spent that evening consoling his grieving nephew, talking him through what it meant to grieve, to lose a loved one, and how important it made the rest of Casey’s family. In a rare moment of vulnerability, Donnie opened up about his loss of his father and how it impacted him. He assured Casey that his sadness was not something to be ashamed of, but rather something to embrace. Casey continued to weep, lamenting why it had to be his mother who died. Why did the Kraang have to be so cruel? Why couldn’t Casey be older and stronger? Why couldn’t he have protected his mother?

Casey stayed in Donnie’s arms until he cried himself to sleep. The dreams that haunted him before were shielded by the protection his uncle offered within his arms.

When he woke up the next morning, groggy and memories fogged by exhaustion, the pain he had seen ravaging his uncle was distant and soon to be forgotten.

Tears sprang into Casey’s eyes as the memory faded from his mind. It had been so long since that had happened. He wished he had remembered that night, the sudden recollection of the comfort and safety he felt sent a warm feeling through his chest. He wished he could have had a clearer memory of that, a reminder of how close he had truly been with his Uncle Tello. He wished he could have remembered that night, so that the pain after the future Donnie died would have been a little less painful.

As the memory replayed, he felt a cold shiver run over his arms. How he wished for the warmth of his uncle’s hug, any of them, really, not just Donnie. But he didn’t have that family anymore, not quite. The younger turtles were close, but in a silly way, Casey just wanted to feel small and protected in the arms of the notably larger uncles or father. The new Hamatos were so small, their size comparable to his own. It was jarring.

“You alright, Casey?” Raph’s voice broke him out of his mourning trance. He hadn’t realized a few tears had fallen. He blinked the remaining tears back, taking a deep breath. Mikey turned to Casey as well, concern in his eyes. Leo was sleeping next to Raph, curled around his brother as he lightly snored.

“Yeah, sorry,” He laughed softly, wiping away at his cheeks. “Just had a memory of my Uncle Tello. You think it would be outlandish of me to request a hug from him?”

Raph’s voice wavered, “Maybe not now… he’s not in the state to provide much affection.” Right. The brothers had told Casey about their predicament.

Casey settled back into his spot on the couch, reminiscing about his past. “I wish I could tell you all more about my uncle’s health. It looks like I was significantly more oblivious to everything than I thought.” He huffed, “Whatever it is, it must have been pretty bad during the apocalypse.” That pain he remembered, the struggle and sickness, that must have been what his uncle had been suffering all those times he refused to see anyone in his lab. Only Mikey and Leo were ever permitted a presence with Donnie. He had tried to hide it from the Resistance. Casey wanted to say he didn’t know why his Uncle Tello would deliberately lie about his health, but in the world they lived in, where weakness was a liability, he understood why. But now, after they had avoided the apocalypse, now was when he couldn’t justify the way Donnie was acting.

“Don’t worry about it, Case. We’ll figure it out.” Mikey smiled. “It’s not going to be easy, but Donnie can only hide from us for so long.”

Raph nodded, “Once he’s out of the med bay, you’re welcome to talk with him. Good luck getting a hug, though, we’re barely blessed with that luxury,”

Even in their joking tones, Casey could tell the family was struggling with this advancement. They were poking fun as a way to cope. When it was both Raph and Mikey contributing to the humor, that’s when he knew it was bad. Mikey had told him about Donnie’s aggression, his refusal to speak or communicate. Not even sign language, which was such a dependable way to speak with his family during the apocalypse, a way to ensure a connection with his uncle when he shut down. Those times were rare; the constant threat of death had a way of overriding a lot of meltdowns among the leaders, but each one had their moments. Sometimes a mission would be too much for Donnie to handle, too much to process. Donnie still shut himself off, with the exception of his brothers. At the tail end of these episodes, Casey could talk with him in sign. 

After that night, when Casey crawled into the lab, unsure of what was wrong with him or his uncle, Donnie always seemed to make time for Casey. Even still, Casey never got the opportunity to understand what was wrong with his uncle; the memories of his pain so faint and distant. They were diligent in hiding the struggle, just as any good leader should be. But Casey truly wished he could do more for his now, younger uncle.  

___________________

Donnie's small outbursts had certainly sent a message. Leo didn't step foot in the med bay once the following day. Hardly anyone did. Most of his “interactions” consisted of Mikey bringing him food and Raph's overly-worrying check-ins every hour. He never spoke during those. His arms regained their ability to move, albeit slowly and painfully, so he didn't require Mikey's assistance to eat. His little brother protested during breakfast, but Donnie's harsh eyes and forceful display of his weak independence were enough to dispel any further argument. Raph would probe for responses, but his pitiful reassurances only ever made Donnie feel worse.

Donnie wanted nothing more than to get out of the med bay. It was cold, stale, and far too quiet. His muscles kept aching, the cold only sending pulses of pain deeper into his body. The blankets that weighed him down never seemed thick enough to fend off the frigid air, never trapping enough heat to ease even the slightest bit of pain. The silence drew in too many swarming thoughts, ones he’d rather not keep up with. Usually, he welcomed endless thoughts, ideas to explore, and concepts to understand. But these thoughts were demeaning and insulting, taking in the space as a reminder of how weak he truly was. How useless he was. How pathetic, forgettable, and miserable he was.

Alas, he was confined to the uncomfortable bed, where the sheets were slightly too scratchy, where the pillow was slightly too soft, where everything was simply too much to handle. Several times throughout the day, his discomfort with himself and his surroundings brought him to tears, the quiet and subtle sobs unnoticeable to anyone outside the door. He was getting a headache from how much he had been crying, his cheeks raw from rubbing away the tears, nose stuffy from all the snot, but there was nothing for him to do. He felt worse every time he cried. It didn’t alleviate the pain, neither physical nor emotional, only deepening his sorrows and allowing him to wallow in his own self-deprication more than he already was. He felt weak and exhausted. He felt so far gone from who he was, who he could have been, that the idea of recovery might as well have been shot through the heart in front of him.

Eventually, his sorrow, grief, and self-deprication gave way to another set of emotions. Anger and self-loathing. Not the comfort part of him was seeking, that much was evident, but it was something new, and if Donnie needed anything in that moment, it was something new. Something to separate his agony into something with energy. At least energy could benefit him, at least it could make him feel a tinge less useless.

The shadows that fogged his thoughts and memories continued to drown him in insults, but the insults began to fester into something worse. Something so close to physical, where maintaining his silence and stillness was beginning to itch. He needed to get out of that med bay before the bomb it was becoming detonated. Before it destroyed something deep within his conscience, before it tore down whatever it was that kept him together. 

Chapter Text

Wind was picking up to a dangerous pace, its harsh song crashing into the wall. The sound was deafening, almost enough to disguise the calls the logical spewed. Someone had to hear him, maybe the builder, maybe the illogical. Though that was far too hopeful, especially for him, since his counterpart had marked his indignance by prolonged silence and endless pain to himself that he refused to cure. But the wind and the ever-growing wall were a threat to their world.

This wall is going to collapse, can't any of you see that? The illogical called, yanking on the bars of his prison. It’s going to hurt us all!

Only the howling winds answered him, taking his worried words and carrying them far, where only the dying landscape could hear.

I’m sorry, he cried, I should have been better!

It was his fault. He knew it was. He was hurtful and dismissive when he needed to be forgiving and helpful. He might as well have placed the first brick in this god-forsaken wall. Now, it would be the death of him. 

We’re running out of time! He called again as the blasting currents bashed into the wall, causing it to shudder down to its first line of brick.

For the first time, the logical felt as though there was no logic to call upon. There was nothing and no one to reason with. He was losing his purpose.

Please! He begged, We’re going to die here!

It was his fault, the thought repeated. He brought them there, he tore down the illogical until he turned to giving up, he knew it was all on his shoulders. But he didn’t want to die. He didn’t want to give up, even if his counterpart did. The logical still had dreams; he still wanted to be something. He could survive on a weaker memory and a lack of movement, but he couldn’t just… stop . He couldn’t leave behind his life; he had so much planned. He knew he had more to live for. They would find something new, surely they would. But that message and desire weren’t shared, and that was a risk he was stuck living through because of his mistakes. He was at fault.

For what felt like an eternity, he received no response. Only the wind continued to berate him, reminding him of his failures and what he was going to lose. A cruel joke, to remind him of his imminent death.

Maybe he was beginning to lose himself. The shadows that leaked into his cell were beginning to feed on his conscious, reaping his mind with unfamiliar anxieties. He couldn’t assure that death was what neighbored him, he couldn’t confirm that was the path the illogical was striving towards, yet the constant tearing at his heart made it difficult to think of anything else. He knew the illogical was suffering. If the little whisps of shadows he suffered caused this level of harm, he could only imagine what was happening outside the wall.

Can you cut out the yelling? Someone finally asked. It was that damned builder, the one who kept making things worse, who maintained the terrible security of the wall.

You need to stop building, the logical stated, disparity heavy in his tone. You need to stop before it kills us.

Sorry, can’t do that. Orders are orders. I can’t deny them.

Seriously? Those same orders that are going to kill? Us? You can’t go against those?

Nope. The builder's hands were scratched and bruised, the endless laying of plaster, mortar, and bricks, tearing at his skin. His nail beds bled, raw and weak. Even the builder was on the brink of failure, yet he refused to cease. The builder was about to leave, but the logical grabbed his attention again.

I can’t just sit here and do nothing. I’m not going to wait for your stupid wall to fall over and hope the two of us survive getting crushed. You need to stop this!

Your compliance in doing nothing didn’t stop you before. Why are you so eager, now?

The reminder that the illogical failures were a shared opinion hurt more than he thought it would. The builder’s words were pointed and painful. I am well aware of my contributions to this threat, but I’m trying to fix what I’ve done, can't you see that? He pleaded.

Doesn’t matter what I see. If the controller can't get the message, then he remains blind. The builder turned around, ready to return to the top of the wall to keep laying the heavy bricks that weighed down their life.

You’ll die with us, you know? Do you realize that?

The builder stopped for a moment before looking over his shoulder. He shrugged, taking a step back towards the prison bars. Maybe that’s for the better. I don’t really care what happens to me.

How could he not care?

I’m nothing but a tool. I was made to compensate for your lack of understanding. I’m only here to hide away your fears and insecurities. You’re lack of reassurance and confidence is the only reason I live. I fix your emotional problems by sealing them away. Just like you wanted them. The builder's words carved into the logicals chest like a rusty dagger, springing streams of blood that would scar over into a permanent message.

I didn’t want this!

You did, once. You had too much influence on the weaker part of you. The idea that safety required hiding was planted deep into the illogical’s mind, and this is what came of it. He raised his hands to the wall. The only one left to blame is yourself. You made your bed, so lie in it.  

The logical could see the lines of shadows that wrapped around the builder's neck, forcing his words forward with a deathly toxin. 

I didn’t want this. He repeated, this time weaker. This isn’t what I meant; this isn’t what was supposed to happen.

Then what was? The builder stared blankly at the logical. What was? You were always one to keep away your worries and fears. You were the one who decided you had to soldier everything by yourself. You were the one who refused to open up, refused to take in the light that was offered to you at no cost. The builder faced the light that dimmed behind them. You were the one who shut them off, who refused to talk and admit your pain. So what did you want to happen? How were your demands and actions supposed to be interpreted?

The logical was at a loss for words. I don't know…

He hated those words. He wasn’t ever supposed to say that. That’s not who he was. The logical was meant to provide answers; he was supposed to know what the illogical did not. That was his job, and if he didn’t know, then what was he there for?

Exactly. You can’t tell me how to do my job, make demands, and change everything I’ve worked for, when you can’t do your own. I follow whoever was strong enough to remain in control, and by the looks of it, he scanned over the dark and damp prison cell the logical was confined to, it will never be you.

With those final words, the builder left, a sour look in his eyes and a scowl so deep it engraved itself into the logicals mind. The words lingered, eating away at his thoughts. How had he messed up so poorly? How could he, the logical , have been so stupid? So delusional, so emotionally weak? How could he have been so weak? He was compliant with his own pain, making it a problem for everyone involved. He was expected to make the decisions, to be informed on the actions and consequences every path would bring. He was expected to make the right decisions. Yet there he was, drowning in his own mistakes because he couldn’t muster up the confidence to get help. Help meant destroying his pride, which he held at a much higher degree than the rest of him. What a weak ideal that was.

The thoughts that swarmed his head were beginning to make him sound like his other half. This is what the shadows were doing, weren’t they? This is what the illogical was suffering, so deeply pained and lost in his own thoughts. Run by self-deprication and hatred. No wonder this is where they ended up. Those vines and shadows were tearing them apart, ripping them limb from limb until there was nothing left to keep his physical self moving.

He had lost the war he had started.

Now, he had to wait until he suffered the consequences of his poor decisions.

…

He didn’t want to give up. That would mean succumbing to the shadows, giving into their poison. The logical was sick of being weak but sick of fighting a losing battle. 

Despite his exhaustion and despair, he walked to the far wall of his enclosure, rested a fist against the frigid brick, and began hitting his hand into the rough material. He wasn’t going to give in, not yet. He wasn’t going to sit there and let death claim them. He would fight until their last moment so that he could at least have the pride of admitting he’d never stopped fighting. Maybe then, could he begin to forgive himself for condemning them to death in the first place? 

Donnie had finally managed to escape the dreaded med bay during the late-night hours, having dragged his feet painstakingly slowly through the lair, clinging to the wall for support. Every step, every ounce of weight, burned with the power of a thousand suns, but he persisted until he made it to his room. Once safely and discreetly away, he collapsed onto his bed and passed out, a needed escape from his demeaning thoughts.

The night had passed all too quickly, the morning welcoming a numbing soreness all through Donnie’s body. All he wanted was to remain in bed, underneath the covers, where it was warm. But he was called for breakfast, and after the stunt he had pulled last week and the whole sewer situation, he wasn’t in a position to skip out on meals. As he pushed himself up from his comfort, a large cough scratched up his throat, causing him to falter. Dehydration had never been such a strong enemy, but the past three weeks had made a lot of painful changes in Donnie’s life. He would just have to accept that he was weaker now. Which wasn’t an easy thought, one he would never accept and certainly one he wasn’t welcoming at nine in the morning, so he dispelled the unnerving ideas and extended his bō to give himself support. As he stood, his legs quivered and shook, a waterfall of pins and fiery needles crawled down his thighs. He deepened his grasp on his weapon, but the curl of his fingers was far weaker than it ever had been, the morning exhaustion stealing his strength like a leech.

One foot out of his room, and he longed for the heat of his blankets. He groaned, his pace slowing as his stability weakened. He hurt , that couldn’t be denied, and the fact that he couldn’t hide it was starting to anger him. He had been doing so well, disguising his agony behind a wall of work and presumed annoyances. His scowls, sourced from numbness, burning, and tingling, could easily be misunderstood as expressions of deep thought or being bothered by his brothers. Easy disguises, he had been so dependent on his brother’s trusting nature and his already resting bitch face to get him through whatever was going on with him, that when his stupidly sometimes-smart twin started catching on, he felt stuck. Donnie could lie to Raph and Mikey, as he intended to do, but not to Leo. Leo was the problem, now.

His breathing was ragged as he finally entered the kitchen, face assaulted with far too many smells. In reality, there were only a few sources of aroma: bacon, eggs, buttered toast, nothing Donnie hadn’t been able to handle before, but this time, it was overbearing. 

“Donnie!” Mikey exclaimed, thrilled to see his older brother up and moving on his own. His voice was too loud, another sensory intake that was adding up in Donnie’s head. It was too early for all of this. He was too tired.

“Michael,” He greeted as quietly as his scratchy throat allowed him. He hobbled to the kitchen table, where the rest of his brothers were waiting, refusing to look at either of them. He could feel Leo’s watchful eye, like a hawk staring down its prey. Once Donnie fell into his chair, embarrassingly unstable, Mikey placed his breakfast in front of him. There was so much food… he felt a little sick as he looked at the eggs and toast. That was new. New-ish, rather. Donnie had food issues before, too much stimulation, most often, but Mikey worked diligently to make breakfasts for him that he could actually stomach. His nausea over the simplicity of unseasoned eggs and unbuttered toast was that new part. 

As if predicting Donnie’s next move, Mikey placed a mug of coffee in front of him. Donnie’s eyebrows went up slightly, warmed by the act. 

“Thanks…” He muttered. It was shameful to keep thinking about lying to Mikey, knowing all he wanted to do was take care of his brother, but Donnie could see the shakiness in his little brother's arms as he carried the mug. Mikey hadn’t healed yet, so he couldn’t add another burden to his shoulders. 

Against his arms’ protest, Donnie picked up his fork and cut into the eggs, careful not the let the runny yolk spread across the plate. His shoulder went a little numb as pain pressed against his forearms when he brought the food to his mouth, causing him to hesitate. He shoved the eggs into his mouth and shut his eyes as he chewed.

Once he swallowed, it felt like a jagged rock was lodged in his esophagus, causing a stabbing pain to shoot down his throat as he ate. He winced slightly at the new pain. Once the food made it down, Donnie rubbed his hand over his throat, eyes twitching. Maybe he swallowed something wrong. He picked up his coffee and took in a large mouthful of the warm liquid, hoping for a soothing wash to replace the prior shock. But, unfortunately, the turtle would never be so lucky. His hopes were crushed as the sharp pain repeated itself with his favorite drink.

Donnie knew his face responded to the pain, seeing as it was unpredicted, so he anticipated a few snide words out of his twin. However, silence followed his obvious pain, which drew Donnie to peer up. Leo was eating his breakfast mindlessly, blank expression and empty eyes, accompanied by heavy shadows.

Whatever. Better for me, I guess. He thought, shaking his head and returning to his food.

He managed to eat one of his two eggs before the pain made it difficult to breathe. Why on Earth did his throat hurt so bad? This clearly wasn’t a dehydration, dry throat kind of issue; this pain was foreign. It felt as though a knife had penetrated his vocal chords and throat before it tore its dull blade down through his esophagus, yanking itself free at the end.

Donnie cleared his throat, feeling the sandpaper-like pain rip across the inside. He stood up slowly, using his arms to press himself up, quickly grabbing onto his staff before his right leg gave out. Mikey caught a glimpse of Donnie’s hardly, half-eaten breakfast before Donnie took it away, and frowned. “Was something wrong with it, Dee?” Mikey pressed, more concerned with his cooking, though clearly inquiring about Donnie’s feelings, too. 

Donnie shook his head, placing the plate down after his arm started to shake. He braced himself against the wooden countertops and breathed deeply. “Just don’t feel well.” He admitted without thinking. His eyes opened wide after processing what he had said. Damnit .

“What’s wrong?” Mikey stood and went to his brother's side, resting a hand on his shoulder. Pain radiated from the touch, but Donnie hid his response, turning his head away.

Think of a lie, quickly, Donatello, come on. 

“I feel a little nauseous. Just didn’t sleep much… or well.” He muttered, biting back against the scratch that darkened his voice. “I was up late updating our security systems, I was… feeling kind of anxious?” It was a good lie at first, but then he realized that admitting to being anxious would invite a whole new party for Dr. Feelings.

“Oh, okay. Thanks for telling me,” Mikey smiled, “Are you still feeling anxious? Do you want to talk about it?”

Donnie forced himself to return his brother’s kind look. “I feel fine, now, thank you, Michael. I’ll talk to you about it later, okay?”

When a light returned to Mikey’s eyes, Donnie couldn’t help but feel terrible. There was hope in that look, a reassurance that Donnie was trying to be better. As fake as it was, it was what Donnie was trying to achieve. Didn’t mean he felt good about it, though.

He dragged himself away from the kitchen, hunger eating at his stomach. He wanted to eat, but it was excruciating to do so. Of the two pains, hunger was the easiest to adjust to. He did not want to deal with something new, so he was going to sit through this stupid pain and wait for it to go away. It couldn’t last long. Unless he was getting sick, but seeing as his fatigue was no worse than usual and his sinuses were clear, he didn’t think that was the problem.

Finally secluded back in his lab, Donnie collapsed into his desk chair. The rising pain began, drowning out his thoughts as his arms and legs burned. It exponentially got worse for another few minutes before it began to subside, being replaced with a stiffening numbness. He groaned at the pain, his hands pressing into his temples. Once he felt able to move again, he wiggled the chair to where his heated blanket was lying on the floor. Once it was plugged in, the electric warmth felt like heaven, the fought off pain making Donnie feel like he was human– or mutant – again. He leaned back, his shoulders rising in a deep sigh. He kept his eyes closed and breathed in the momentary peace for a while before he heard a ruckus coming from the entrance of the lair.

An alarm went off in his head, but it was immediately shut off when he heard a loud, boisterous, familiar voice. “I have arrived with the child!” Cassandra Jones yelled, her voice carrying. The Jones family always had a way of making an entrance, which he could appreciate. Donnie hummed and finally sat up, looking at his numerous screens. He didn’t need to be out of his lab for anything, so he started up his work and planned what he could achieve that day. Might as well actually update the lair’s cameras and sensors. They didn’t need the updating, since he had touched them up not long ago, but the sickening feeling of lying to Mikey was going to drive him crazy, so he would do what would soothe it the best without being completely honest. 

Mikey and the rest of his family, blood-related or not, didn’t need to know about his issues. They were his to deal with, and getting them involved would only make them worse. A shame that Leo was so determined to shake out the honesty from Donnie, because he wouldn’t budge.

He started his work, separating himself from the dark thoughts that swarmed his head. Insults and hatred could only persist so long when he was surrounded by tech. The dependency on his work would keep him sane; it would distract him from his pain, feeding the delusion that everything would be fine. No matter what damage that would do.

Chapter Text

The presence of his friends made Leo feel a lot better than he anticipated. He had been sulking; there was no point in lying. Sometimes he hated how much he cared, and sometimes he hated even more how he showed it. 

He wasn’t like Mikey, the most expressive of the brothers, whose love language was really everything under the sun. He loved physical touch, always wrapping himself around his older brothers, clinging to Raph. He loved cooking for the family, creating recipes in their honor, and adjusting anything to appease the individual pickiness of the brothers. He could spew words of poetry louder than Cassandra Jones, if he could, about how much he loved his family. His love couldn’t be doubted, even if Leo’s brain tried to find a way when at its worst. 

Leo wasn’t like Raph, who cared so deeply it was like it was ingrained in his bones. He showed his love by being protective and careful. He memorized their behaviors, danced around delicate subjects, but wasn't afraid to scold them. He was protective and did everything he could to ensure they’d never get hurt. Sure, he wasn’t the best at showing it, but he was better than Leo was. His weariness could get exhausting, but the brothers knew Raph cared. 

Leo wasn’t like Donnie, who would rarely ever admit he loved his family, but it was so painfully obvious that he did. He loved giving gifts, especially if he was the one who made them. He knew his brother's interests like the back of his hand, bending the world to work in their favor. He had his times of misinterpreted gifts, but his efforts were clear. In private moments, he might open up and say tender words that he would threaten to kill if anyone exposed him.

What did Leo have to offer? He cared too much, but let his ambitious nature take over, and instead of trying to work with his twin, he pushed a boundary. At the time, he didn’t believe that what he had done was that bad, but the fury Donnie expressed when he learned of the blood tests quickly ended that understanding. But why was he so wrong for caring? Why was it so bad to know what plagued his brother?

Why couldn’t he have been better? Was he not a good enough brother for Donnie to confide in him? Why couldn’t he have cared differently, in a way in which Donnie would understand that he could seek help from Leo?

Even if those thoughts were persistent, a small part of him knew he wasn’t all the blame. Yes, he had messed up, and yes, he was yet to consider apologizing for it. However, the behavior he was facing from his twin was not specifically reserved for Leo. Mikey had dealt with it. Raph was taking a steady backseat in the issues, knowing that his worry would only make it worse. But they all knew it was happening. They all acknowledged the differences, the tension, the problems.

Leo was so tired. He was tired of trying to help and getting shut down.

Honestly? He was tired of Donnie. He was tired of his spiteful, biting behavior that made everything tense and painful. What was his problem? He wondered in more ways than one. Donnie was angry, annoyed, and, by Splinter's recent-ish words, anxious and overall, not good . 

He was a medic, for gods sake! This is what he was supposed to do! Leo was supposed to care about his brothers, keep them healthy and safe. But to Donnie, was that even worth anything? If not the face man, he was a medic. If not a medic, what was he? Did Donnie not care? Did he not care about Leo?

Or did Donnie not care about himself? Leo considered something. Leo, as painstakingly true as it was, had a deep self-sacrificial problem. He had been working through it, in his defense. He was getting better, healthier. Both mentally and physically, though both were still kicking his ass in their own ways.

Since the start of this all, Leo had seen a lot of reflection of himself in Donnie’s actions. It wasn’t that Leo knew what Donnie was going through, but that he knew the risks and maybe some of the internal battles his twin was facing. If Leo’s suspicions were accurate, if Donnie had Fibromyalgia, he knew that the emotional shift was a symptom of the disorder. It was an explanation, though certainly not an excuse. Donnie needed help; he was suffering, but he just wouldn’t take it. Leo would have to find another way.

Even so, recognizing the patterns and considering what he could change, Leo couldn’t muster enough energy to do anything about it. Donnie didn’t want help. All that would come of Leo’s never-ending efforts would be more fights and equally worsening conditions. So he stopped trying. Leo hadn’t seen his twin for several days now. He knew Donnie snuck out of the med bay at some point, returning to his solitude in his lab. That probably hurt a lot. But Leo tells himself he doesn’t care. He wants to be mad, he wants to stop trying, he wants to stop thinking about his twin. But he can’t. He knows full well he will never not care about Donnie. His twin, his brother, his lifeline.

He wasn’t mad, truly he wasn't. He was tired and sad. He was grieving in a way difficult to express. That itself was enough to wear Leo down. Mikey had tried to bring it up during his last personal therapy session the prior day, but it was too much. Bless him, Mikey didn’t push it. 

Leo figured he’d continue feeling terrible for at least another day or two, but when the Jones pair arrived, he relaxed a little. Cassandra’s high energy, while sometimes overbearing, raised his spirits. Casey Junior’s presence always made him feel better, a friend who seemed knowledgeable beyond his years. He wasn't actually, but having information on who the turtles became when they were older made it seem that way. In reality, Casey was as clueless as he could get, still adjusting to a non-apocalyptic world and everything else considered. 

They were all hanging out in the living room, except for Donnie, of course. Leo cuddled up to Raph, his sulking not yet completely passed. He laughed softly as Cass retold a dramatic story, trying to keep his attention forward at his friends rather than the anxiety crawling its way up his chest.

When he looked over to Junior, he saw a bit of worry in his expression. Leo could tell the boy was listening to his mother’s story, but his thoughts kept escaping him as his eyes darted around the room, seeking something out. Raph had mentioned Junior’s inclination to Donnie over the past day or two, so he must have been looking for the missing brother. Leo didn’t know why; it was obvious Donnie didn’t care enough to be with them. Why would he suddenly show up?

“- all for some brownies. I’m telling you, kids are crazy.” Cass finished, slumping back into her spot next to her son. “Except you, you’re acceptable.” She smiled, ruffling Junior’s hair. Leo decided against mentioning how close in age they all were.

The family continued their conversations like any other day, Mikey discussing his most recent art projects, Cass and Raph arguing over training strategies, Junior mentioning the training he went through in his future, all topics possible. Leo chimed in with a few well-timed one-liners, but they didn’t have as much passion as usual. 

It wasn’t until Splinter made his way into the living room with a wary expression that they halted their conversations.

“Dad, I was just about to start dinner. Did you need something?” Mikey asked, already on his feet. 

Splinter shook his head, “No, please sit for a moment, Orange.” Mikey promptly sat, the attention of everyone now on the rat. “We’ll have to fill in April another time, but I need all of your help. When I first learned of what Purple was going through, I told him if it ever got bad enough, we’d have him tested.” Leo perked up slightly. “He agreed to that. Now, I’d say this is bad enough.”

“He’s not going to opt for any tests, though, trust me,” Leo mumbled. 

“Let’s not jump to conclusions yet, Blue.” Leo hadn’t jumped anywhere. He was knee-deep in that conclusion. “But I fear I am not educated enough to know what we should be doing to test him. I need all of your help.”

Cass and Casey looked at one another. “Well, a scan of his body would probably be the best first step.” Junior chimed.

Leo hummed. “While I don’t doubt it’ll be helpful, I don’t think that Donnie is dealing with something that can be seen . An invisible disability, if you will.”

“What do we gotta do to test that?” Raph asked, looking down at his brother. 

“Mostly verbal stuff. He’d have to inform us of what symptoms he’s experiencing, probably fill out a sheet of paper asking him about random stuff, and then we come to a logical conclusion from there. I’m sure Draxum can get those documents for us if the time comes.” Leo shrugged, his words not holding their usual confidence. 

“We could always sneakily ask him about symptoms in conversation?” Mikey suggested. “It might take a while, but we could slowly gather the right kind of information.”

None of them heard the slight sound of a metal staff hitting the ground in a slow walk. 

“That’s not a bad idea,” Leo muttered.

“Raph would feel bad about that though…” Raph spoke, “Wouldn’t it be kind of mean to… I don’t know, manipulate the answers out of him?”

Leo scoffed, “Not much worse than the way he’s been treating us.”

“Be nice.” Raph nudged his shoulder. 

“Orange, can you ask Draxum to look into the kind of questions we should be asking? Blue, can you figure that out, too?” Splinter pressed forward.

“I’ve already got a solid starting point.” Leo gave a thumbs-up.

“After he answers the questions,” Mikey started, “Will we finally be able to… cure him? Take care of him, do something to help him?”

“That’s the plan.” Leo nodded. He didn’t add the fact that curing Donnie might not be a possibility. 

Leo finally heard the clanking metal and looked up to see his twin standing in the doorway. He couldn’t read the expression on his face, some mix of anger and… fear?

“Donnie-” He managed to say before his brother promptly spun on his foot and hastily made his way back towards his lab, his pace quickening the further he got. Leo caught a glance of a light limp and an imbalance in Donnie’s steps. “Oh no.” Leo groaned, dragging his hand down his face.

“How much of that did he hear?” Mikey asked, realizing that openly admitting to manipulating his time with his older brother might not have been that nice to hear.

“Enough,” Leo couldn’t bring himself to sit up. “There goes that plan.”

Splinter started moving forward to confront Donnie, but the youngest brother went to stop him. “Hold on, Dad. Let him be for a minute. I’ll go talk to him later.”

“Mikey, face it, that’s not going to get us anywhere. He won’t talk.” Leo turned away. 

“I’m not giving up on him, Leo.” The box turtle responded quietly. Leo wished he had that kind of passion.

_________________

Donnie’s hands fell onto his desk as his breath hastened. His thoughts frantically spiraled as he clicked through his codes, finding the one that controlled his doors. Shut it off. Turn it off and never leave. They can’t interrogate you if they can’t get to you .

His brothers were scheming against him. His father was, too.

They were too close. They were gaining too much on him. They knew something was wrong, and that was bad. They couldn’t learn what was wrong with him.

They couldn’t.

They couldn’t.

They wouldn’t .

What would happen if they found out what was wrong with him?

What would happen if they learned how weak he was? If they learned how useless he was becoming? If they learned how weak, how fragile, how unstable he had become? 

What would happen is that they’d finally realize that they didn’t need Donnie. That it would be too much of a burden to deal with his pain. They’d realize that Donnie was too much. They’d start leaving him behind. 

Or worse, they’d treat him like he was nothing, worth more than his pain. His pain would be the only thing that defined him. His brothers would treat him like glass, like the slightest movement would shatter him. Raph would stop him from ever moving, from ever existing beyond his room. Mikey would cater to his every need, making him feel less than human. Leo would crowd him with questions and concern, making his only focal point his pain. He’d become nothing more than a token of agony, his worth and life being thrown away at any risk of becoming worse. Worst of all, his brothers would prevent themselves from admitting their pain. They’d never heal properly. Knowing them, they’d all shut up about ever hurting because they could "never compare to Donnie", who lived in pain. 

Donnie didn’t want that. He didn’t want to be seen, he didn’t want to be known. He needed them to never know what was wrong with him. He needed to escape their worried grasp, to run away from reality and turn his back on himself. That was what was best. If he ignored the pain, he’d grow accustomed to it, then it would never be a problem. He could live in shadowed pain, lie to everyone, and admit he felt perfectly fine, then shrivel from the agony once alone and safe. Donnie could live like that; he’d be perfectly fine with that.

The pain would go away. It had to. Because there couldn’t be anything wrong with him. He was already weaker than his brothers, already at a disadvantage. If his body failed him, he had his mind. But even now, his mind was failing him, his memory weakened, and his concentration was in shambles. If they learned of any more weakness, he’d be nothing more than deadweight. He’d be nothing but a liability, something to tear down, something to exploit.

Donnie wouldn’t let that happen. He didn’t care what it took, what it caused, what it would worsen; his brothers would not learn what was wrong with him.

If that meant lying, then so be it.

After he adjusted the code for his doors, he pulled up a few tabs and started his research. He’d need to fabricate something believable enough. Believable for Mikey and Raph, that is. Donnie knew lying to Leo wasn’t possible. He’d have to find another way around his twin.

Chapter Text

It was somewhere between 4 and 6 in the morning. Donnie stopped trying to keep track of it, as every time he looked at his phone, it just upset him more. For once, Donnie had gone to bed at a beyond reasonable hour. 9 PM, on the dot, almost.  The earliest he had ever retired to bed since he had become a teenager. It took a few turns before the night lulled him to sleep, but he got there.

Then he woke up, an hour and a half later. He woke up overheated, tired, and mildly annoyed. Nothing had even caused him to stir; he just found himself with open eyes and rising temperatures over his body. After shedding a few of his far too many blankets, he drifted off to sleep.

And woke up another hour later. This time, he was too cold, but it only became noticeable when he thought about it. The pain in his throat wasn’t helping, but he had gotten used to the sharp, cut-like feeling running down his esophagus, so that couldn’t have caused him to wake up. He chugged some water, no matter how painful it was, because he didn’t want to cause another headache, and slammed himself back into his bed and shut his eyes. Donnie was exhausted and practically begged for sleep to take him away. It did.

But not for long. He awoke again, two hours later. When his eyes squeezed shut at the realization of his awakened state, he groaned. Donnie’s responsible for his sleep schedule, once, and it all goes downhill. It wasn’t like he was getting good quality sleep either. Life was laughing at his face. But he continued to try, his emotional and physical exhaustion piling up as each minute passed. 

Like clockwork, he woke up after another two hours. He whined as he shoved a pillow into his face, now feeling desperate enough that tears pricked his eyes. He just wanted to sleep. He needed to get away from the poisoned needles that dug into his legs, from the knife that dragged its way down his throat, from whatever it was that made it feel like his back muscles were being ripped off his bones. Sleep was becoming his only escape; not even his heated blanket was fending off the pain. It lessened it, kept it at bay, but it wasn’t gone. Donnie tried adjusting the music he had playing in the background to rain sounds; maybe a change in audio would call back his one-sided love of sleep.

It did, for a short time.  After the fifth wake-up of the night, he decided it wasn’t worth it. His eyelids were weighed down, but they wouldn’t stay shut. He felt like groveling at the foot of sleep wouldn’t grant him his wish. Donnie was more than familiar with insomnia, no secret there, since the twins could share several memories of nights they’d spend together while sleep evaded their grasp, but disturbances like this were new. Usually, once Donnie fell asleep, he remained that way through any alarm. His body was always functioning at a sleep deficit, so when the turtle finally took the time to treat it, his body sapped it up like a drought was around the corner. The only thing that ever woke up the softshell was any rare-morning mission that Leo would violently shake him up for or Mikey’s once-a-month brunch. 

He was so frustrated with his lack of sleep that the tears that had threatened to fall previously took their freedom and slid down his cheeks for an hour. Donnie didn’t even get the luxury of some out-of-nowhere motivation to occupy his sleepless night. He simply lay there, staring at his ceiling like the sterile grey stone would tell him secrets of alchemy. His thoughts held no point, but constantly circled back to the ‘for the love of god, please let me sleep, or else something's going to get blown up.’

It didn’t help that the muscles and fibers beneath his left knee felt as though a horde of fire ants had made home there or that his right shoulder blade felt like someone was trying to yank his bone out of place. This far into his pain development, he didn’t get a break. There was no moment of peace, no hour of pain relief, nothing. The only thing that kept him from going stir crazy from his own pain was sleep. But of course, his luck never held out that long. 

He remained in his bed, tossing and turning until his body burned from the movement. He eventually got stuck on his side, all of his joints giving up at the idea of shifting. He stared out into his dark room, trying terribly not to start crying again. Donnie had never wanted to sleep so badly in his life.

Maybe he could seek comfort from Leo-

No. No, he couldn’t do that. Leo would start asking questions. Leo wouldn’t let him rest any easier than the pain that raged in his body. 

When a gentle light seeped through the bottom of his door, a signal that Mikey was up and beginning breakfast, Donnie started contemplating bashing his head into a wall or something similar to force himself to sleep. Something told him adding head trauma to his list wasn’t going to help him in the long run, so he decided against it. Instead, he kept himself still, more from the demands of his aching body than his conscious decisions, counting away the minutes as he decided what to do with himself.

__________________

Raphael hadn’t spent nearly as much time with Casey Junior as the rest of the turtles. He felt a little bad about it, he would admit, but something about their dynamic felt so off compared to his brothers. Junior appeared far more familiar with the younger variants of his family, except for Raph, whom Junior always seemed to be watching with an unrecognizable expression. As terrifying as it may be, Raph’s fear for who he was or what became of him in the future, there were things he wanted to clarify. In that moment, asking the young teenager seemed the best option.

The Jones pair had slept over, and with Cass sleeping late into the day, on a beanbag far in the corner, Junior was left to his own thoughts in the morning. He, Mikey, and Raph were always the early risers. 

With the privacy required for this touchy conversation readily available, Raph swallowed his rising anxiety and took a seat across from Junior in the living room. When he sat there, far too tense for a long minute, Casey looked up from his phone, an inquisitive look on his face. “Good morning, Casey.” Raph forced out, not sure how to approach the topic of interest. 

“... good morning? Is everything okay?” Junior turned his phone off and leaned further back into the couch. 

Raph sighed, “Yeah, yeah, uh-” He huffed a heavy breath, wiggling his six fingers overtop his lap to release his mystery tension. “Can you tell me about the future?”

Casey raised an eyebrow. “Really? I thought- I thought you didn’t want to know about that kind of stuff.”

“Raph doesn’t,” the red turtle forced a smile, but let it fall rather quickly. “But… but this is important. Can you tell me about the future us and our,” he paused, “our health?”

It was no secret that the incident yesterday was making everyone a bit antsy about what to do about Donnie, his mysteries growing ever worse, according to Leo. Casey recognized the concern lacing Raph’s features and relaxed a little, biting his lower lip. Surely it wouldn’t hurt to mention a few things. Besides, if it could help improve the new turtle’s health, why not?

“You all had your problems,” He started. “I guess, except for you.” Casey raised a hand to reference the turtle in front of him. “You never really…” His voice trailed off, clearly regretting his path of conversation as a wave of sadness crossed his face.

“Never got the chance to develop anything, huh?” Raph finished, not wanting ot make the teenager finish his depressing thought.

Casey shook his head. “You had your complaints about the small base giving issues with your back, but I don’t think that counts.” He chuckled. Casey rubbed his hands against his thighs, looking nervous. “My Uncle Angelo had his age problems. His mystic powers causing him to rapidly age came with all the issues being old has, I guess. I dont think there was anything added to it. He had some arthritis like pains, he always said it was due to mystic overuse. And, you know, my Uncle Tello and Sensei both had their sleeping problems, which seems consistent. The two hardly slept, though at a point, it was hard to say if it was because of insomnia or because they simply didn’t have the time or luxury of sleeping.” Casey swallowed, taking a deep breath.

Raph took note to watch over Mikey’s ninpo use. 

“Master Leonardo had his dislocations, of course, but they never-”

“Whoa, hold on, what? Dislocations?” Raph sputtered.

Casey blinked, surprised, then shrugged, “I guess his joints got weaker as the war got worse and he got older. His shoulders were always a little weird after a point. He was always putting them back into place like it was nothing. It never really seemed to bother him, though; he made a lot of jokes about it. Once he had his prosthetic properly installed, he always made a joke about keeping it well-oiled, unlike the rest of his joints.”

Raph decided against asking about the prosthetic. He could only take so much stress.

Then, Casey cleared his throat, looking anxious again. “And… And my Uncle Tello… he was always a lot more secretive about his health, and everything, really. The more I think about it, the more I think it was intentional. He never outwardly spoke about it, but he knew a lot about medical management. He became my Sensei’s med aid when he needed it; he always seemed to be in charge of pain relief. He knew all of these weird little tricks to distract or get rid of pain.” Junior sucked his teeth for a moment, “He had his moments of weakness, where he moved less, spoke less. He was known to have terrible headaches and migraine, almost every day at one point. I do- there was something wrong with him, I think. It might have been a liability, a risk they weren’t willing to take? Because of that, Uncle Tello and Master Leo kept his well-being under wraps; no one, not even me , ever knew there was something wrong. Except for the little things, I guess.” 

“The little things?” Raph asked, tentatively. 

Casey nodded. “I’m only realizing these things, or at least connecting the dots, now. I knew of the times he’d be locked in his room, where only his brothers were allowed entrance. I saw the times when he was acting differently, but they were always justified in some way by my Sensei. It wasn’t like Donnie didn’t get hurt during the war, I mean, only a few years in and his leg gets crushed to a point where he never fully recovered, so it was probably mostly that.” At the look of confusion on Raph’s face, Casey pauses to elaborate, telling the story he had told Leo not long ago. “It was a fear years into the war, way before I was born. My Uncle and Sensei were evacuating people out of a building right before the Kraang Hounds found them. The structural integrity was failing. Donnie knew that, of course, but he still found a way to get the civilians out safely. On their last trip, Uncle Tello stayed behind to hold up some falling debris as Master Leonardo guided people away. But when he went back to get my Uncle, he had been crushed under a collapsed wall. His right leg was completely covered, and while Leo got him out in one piece, he had so many points of shattering that the leg was permanently weaker. Not by much, apparently, but enough.”

Raph’s mouth had fallen open, devastated to hear about the fates of his younger brothers. He knew asking about the future was a bad idea.

“Anyway,” Casey continued, “I remembered a rough night I had when I was a kid the other day. It was one of those days when I wasn’t supposed to see my Uncle Tello. He was so weak, I can see that now. Every move he made, he had this pained expression. He was quick to hide it, hide it from me.” Raph looked at his lap, pressing his lips shut. “He used to be so much more physically involved in the resistance, out on the battlefield. He was unstoppable . But, eventually… he stopped. His presence grew more infrequent, and at some point, he stopped leaving the lair, if he could help it.” Casey’s voice faded, recalling something new that caused another look of despair. 

“What?” Raph asked before thinking, only after did he realize that there was something far darker that the teenager was remembering.

Casey took a shaky, broken breath. “There was a fight… a really bad fight that we were losing, and-” His voice broke, “And my Uncle Tello, he left the base. He went to help Master Leonardo and Uncle Angelo; he knew he could help more if he were physically there. He left already weak, barely keeping himself upright on his own, he knew the risk he was taking,” Casey pressed a hand into his mouth, stifling a cry. “That was the last thing he did.” He whispered.

Raph put a shaky hand over his face.

“We won the battle. Donnie won that battle, but… but at the cost of his life.” Casey swallowed, “It took several years after that day for my Senesei to tell me it was because his body gave up on him. Nearing the end of the battle, Donnie had annihilated so many of the Kraang, he had weakened their forces like he knew it would be his last move. He was facing a horde head-on, backing Leo the best he could, when he collapsed. He tried to fight them off, even while he was taken to the ground, but… but Leo couldn’t get to him in time.”

Cassey didn’t need to finish the story. 

He wiped away a few tears that crowded his eyes, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to get that depressing. I never intended to tell you guys about how you died-” Casey sniffed.

“No, no, it’s okay.” Raph waved his hands. “I was the one who asked; there’s no reason to apologize.” The turtle stood and crossed the floor, taking a seat next to Casey and resting a hand on his shoulder. “Thank you for telling me. I really appreciate it.” 

Before Raph realized it, Casey had turned and thrown himself in Raph’s arms. He gently rubbed the teenager's back, consoling him as he grieved his past family. They didn’t remain like that for long. Casey quickly composed himself and apologized again before going to his mother. Raph watched as the teary-eyed boy climbed his way onto the beanbag and snuggled close to the woman. 

Raph stared at them for a moment before getting up himself. The words processed, repeating themselves in his head. Whatever Donnie was hiding, whatever pained him to this extent, had caused his death in another timeline. How could Raph even prevent that?

He couldn’t cut Donnie out from their world, stop him from fighting, from working in their team, that would be unfair. It’s not like Donnie would listen, anyway. But Raph was scared, now more than ever. He wanted to see his younger brother happy, healthy, and back to his usual self, and right now, he was none of those things. Raph was going to figure out what was wrong with Donnie, and he would do everything in his power to make sure Donnie felt better.

Mindlessly, he wandered into the kitchen, lured by the aromatic foods his little brother was cooking up. “Good morni- Raph?” The box turtle asked, setting down his spatula. Raph hadn’t realized he was crying until a tear fell onto his hand. Mikey quickly stepped away from the stove and went to his brother, opening his arms in a silent offer. Raph hugged him tight, thoughts about the future overwhelming him. “It’s gonna be alright. We’ll figure it out.” Mikey whispered as he gently kicked his legs back and forth in the air.

Once Raph put him down, Mikey finished up breakfast and kept up a light conversation. Mikey mentioned going to speak with Donnie, inviting Raph to join, but his thoughts were too consumed by death and fear that he decided it would be better off if he didn’t join. Mikey knew what he was doing, so Raph would let him take the lead until he processed what he needed to. 

Once he was back, depressed future processed, and all, he could help Donnie. Donnie needed their help, even if he wouldn’t admit it, and those big brother instincts of his were kicking into high gear.

Chapter Text

Mikey stood in front of Donnie’s lab door and took a deep breath, buzzing his lips as he released the air. This wasn’t going to be an easy discussion, he knew that. Would Donnie cooperate? Probably not. Was that going to stop Mikey? Absolutely not. The box turtle was frustrated; there was no point in denying it, but he would never give up on his family. He didn’t give up on Draxum when he had lost his power, he hadn’t given up on Leo when they were convinced they’d lost him to the Prison Dimension, and he wasn’t going to give up on Donnie when he was suffering. 

He wasn’t entirely sure what he was going to say to his older brother. Clearly, his health was a touchy subject, but that is what Mikey was trying to problem-solve. 

Shaking his head, he shoved away his worries and faced the first problem. He needed to get Donnie to listen to him first. Raising a hand to the door, he knocked. He figured Donnie wouldn’t answer, so he patiently waited the four seconds the genius had programmed into his doors.

When five seconds passed and no movement occurred within the intricate systems of the metal doors, Mikey pursed his mouth. He knocked again, raising his brow. The problem repeated. 

“He locked his door. I can’t believe it!” He muttered. The pancakes in his hand were going to go cold if he waited any longer. “Donnie?” He called. “Can I please talk to you?”

He was met with silence. 

Mikey sighed, “I’m not going to ask you about anything medical, I promise, I just want to talk to my brother. Please?” The arm that carried the cooling breakfast began to shake under the extended weight. Mikey moved the plate to the other arm and shook out the shaking one. He couldn’t let Donnie see the tremors. It wasn’t like they hurt much anymore. The chronic pain had begun to steadily cease, becoming more infrequent as each day passed. Once he started rebuilding muscle, he’d feel much more stable. He knew the tremors weren’t going to go away forever; he had long since come to terms with that, but he found ways around the complication. 

He rocked back and forth on his heels, awaiting a response.

“Donnie, would you open this damn door? I have breakfast!” After another few seconds, “Dee, I’m not going to stop pestering you until you let me in!” Ah, yes, little brother privileges. Mikey knew them well and would indulge in abusing them from time to time. 

Sounds of shifting could be faintly heard through the thick metal doors as Mikey pressed his ears closer. A cocky smile spread across his face as he leaned back. When the doors finally slid open, Mikey was greeted by a flat-faced, expressionless Donnie who looked as though not even uranium could impress him. Mikey shoved the plate of plain pancakes into his chest and pushed into the lab, skipping slightly. He heard his brother sigh as he closed the doors and followed behind him. 

The orange turtle watched as Donnie eyed the pancakes, almost in deep thought, before he scowled a moment and put the plate off to the side as he sat down at his desk. Mikey tilted his head. Donnie was looking a lot skinnier recently, which, unfortunately, was expected. After his depressive episode, Donnie had lost around ten pounds from his inability to eat. Even now, Mikey noticed his poor eating habits. But it was different. Mikey could tell Donnie was trying to eat, at least more than he had been, but he could only take a few bites before he gave up, which wasn’t common for the turtle. Mikey took pride in his cooking, so he knew the flavor wasn’t the problem. Something was preventing him from eating, and by the look on his face, Donnie wasn’t all that happy about it. Was that progress? At least he looked unsatisfied with his current living, which meant there was some form of acceptance in it. Mikey was a little conflicted. 

“What’cha working on?” Mikey asked, taking a seat in the chair next to the desk. He brought his legs up to his chest and rested his arms crossed over his knees. 

“Just… stuff. Security stuff.” Donnie admitted softly, eyeing the younger turtle slightly. 

“We’re going to be more secure than the highest grade prison at this rate,” he chuckled. “What more are you adding to the lair security? More cameras?”

Donnie didn’t return the laugh. “Sensors.” He stated.

“What kind of sensors?”

Donnie leaned back and huffed, crossing his arms as he stared at the screen. He was trying to organize his words in a way Mikey would understand. “Not quite mystic, but… other worldly? If I work it right, they should be able to detect any lifeform that is made up of chemicals not registered on Earth’s periodic table, no matter how small the percentage may be.”

Mikey tilted his head, “Were- were the Kraang made up of different chemicals?” Hopefully, mentioning their prior brainy enemies wouldn’t upset Donnie.

The soft shell shrugged. “Not sure.” He sniffed. “That’s a Draxum question. He forbade me from researching them for the time being.”

So Donnie was being incredibly cautious then, designing technology based purely on assumptions rather than factual evidence. Mikey nodded, disguising his concerned expression with one of interest. 

The brothers sat in silence for a long time, Donnie typing away at his keyboard, eyes glued to his numerous monitors. Mikey watched him with a careful gaze, searching for any uncomfortable shift or signal of pain. There had to be something. He knew there would be, eventually. The only thing that stuck out to him was that he moved in his seat more than he used to.

When Donnie worked, even at a young age, he always sat completely still when he was in the zone. He’d pick a position and stick with it, the only movement sourced from his rapidly changing arms as he soldered, typed, wired, or did something else. Now, it’s like his legs moved on their own accord as his attention remained on his work, like they couldn’t stay comfortable for longer than a few minutes at a time. In response to these seating changes, Mikey noticed a few times that Donnie blinked rather aggressively at the movement. Blinking like he was realizing his pain. 

Of course, Mikey hadn’t realized just how bad he was staring until his eyes began to burn from drying out. He blinked a few times and rubbed his palms against his lids. Whoops. Got a little carried away.

“I’m okay, Mikey,” Donnie said quietly.

Oh? 

“What?” Mikey asked. 

“I know you’re worried about me, I get it, but I’m okay now.” He tucked his hands into his lap and turned his chair to face the younger turtle. “I’m sorry for being so weird recently.”

This was new. 

Mikey looked down, pressing his lips together. “How do I know you’re telling the truth?” He asked innocently.

“I’d ask for you to believe me, but I know I’ve made that difficult.” Donnie used his feet to slowly inch himself closer to Mikey. “But, if it’s any consolation, I did find out what was wrong with me.”

Mikey perked up. “You did? Can we help you get better?”

Donnie smiled. “There’s nothing to help, Mike. It’s gone now, so I should be fine from now on.” Mikey wished he knew more about medical processes, but Donnie knew far more, at least the closest in understanding to Leo. So if Donnie had figured out what was hurting him, Mikey didn’t have much of a choice but to hope he was being truthful. He waited for his brother to elaborate. “I had a herniated disc in my spine.” Mikey barely missed the hesitation in Donnie’s words. 

“Herniated disc? What’s that?”

“Something in my invertebrate was pushing against nerves in my back.” Mikey winced. “It must have happened when I got ripped out of the control panel back in the Technodrome.” Donnie rubbed his shoulder slightly.

“You’re okay now?” He asked skeptically.

“Yeah, I should be. I’ve been working on some physical therapy stuff in my own time, periodically. It only lasted so long because I was kind of inconsistent.” Mikey understood he was referencing the four days he didn’t move, and the few days he was stuck in the med bay. “Look, I’ve been really mean recently, and I’m sorry. I thought the pain would go away after the invasion, but it didn’t. It was messing with my nerves and making me upset, and I took it out on you guys. That wasn’t fair of me.”

Mikey pouted before throwing himself at his brother, wrapping his arms around his back. “Why didn’t you say anything?” Mikey was testing the waters. He wanted to see just how honest Donnie was feeling. “Why did you keep lying to us?”

Donnie gingerly hugged him back. “I don’t know. I was so focused on you guys that I didn’t really consider myself. I didn’t want to worry you all. I told pops a while ago, and said I wanted to figure out what was wrong with me before I told you guys. Good news, I figured out what was wrong with me, and even better news, I cured it.”

…Was Donnie telling the truth? He was being honest about why he didn’t tell his brothers, his words matching their fathers. Mikey's heart leaped at the chance to believe his brother, to believe he was finally being honest. If he could get Donnie to talk to Raph and Leo, then everything would start getting better. 

“Are you going to talk to the others? They should know.” He said, pulling away from Donnie.

“Yes, I will. I’ll talk to Raph a bit later, but I think Leo still wants some space away from me right now.”

Mikey narrowed his eyes, “I think if you’re honest with him, he won’t have any problems.” Dr. Feelings was creeping his way in. “I love you, Dee, but I fear that is what got us here in the first place.”

“I know, I know. I do feel bad, honestly. I’ll be sure to talk to him about it later, and we can even go into more detail during therapy this week, okay?”

“Okay.” Mikey was satisfied. “I’m sorry that we were plotting against you.” He added after a long minute of silence.

“All is forgiven.” Donnie waved his hand. “Sorry, I freaked out about it. I honestly don’t know what I was so worried about.” He chuckled, moving back to his desk.

Mikey continued to sit there, watching, thinking about everything he had said. He was being honest, right? Mikey wanted to believe it, but something small in the back of his mind was refraining from doing so. Would a herniated disc explain why he wasn’t eating? He knew Donnie said the pain was aggravating, which was beyond understandable, but to cause such severity in his emotions felt so out of character for his emotionally shut-off brother. 

He considered pushing more questions, trying to drag out what might be all of the truth. Maybe there was more to it. That would make sense, knowing Donnie. He would tell them the partial truth, enough to get them a basic understanding, but not reveal everything that troubled him. But every time he tried to speak, the words got caught in his throat. Donnie wouldn’t respond well to a further push. He’d get irritated. At least, that’s what Mikey’s fears were telling him. 

So he decided that was enough. He could research further on his own, maybe discuss with his other brothers once they were filled in. But this was a start, at least he opened up. He’d cracked the door open enough to let in a little light and allow for more chances. That was enough for Mikey, for the time being.

________________

“Please, let me go out there!” Casey Junior demanded. “They need my help!”

“No, Pepinito, I can’t let you do that,” Señor Hueso, an old friend of Casey’s Sensei, shook his head, keeping the boy back, “I promised Leonardo I would keep you here.”

“Can’t you see!” Casey cried, desperately trying to escape the skeleton yokai’s shockingly strong grasp, “They’re losing, Hueso! I can’t do nothing while my Sensei is risking his life!”

“Junior-” Hueso tried to console, grabbing at the boy's pushy arms. “Junior, I promised to keep you safe, and I am not going to break that promise. Master Leonardo can handle himself; he can lead that resistance better than anyone. Have some faith-”

“No!” Casey had tears running down his face. He had heard the updates through the radio. He had heard his Sensei's voice telling them they were gravely weakened. Their stealth attack was anticipated by the Kraang. There were hounds and beasts everywhere, their fallen comrades quickly overtaken by the Kraang virus and becoming mindless zombies. The soldiers were faced with killing their friends, siblings, lovers, everyone. “Please, I can't lose him!” Casey wiggled out of Hueso's grasp and started running down the hall to the lair exit. He had already lost his mother, he had lost his friends, and he had lost his Uncle Raph. He couldn’t bear the thought of losing his Sensei.

Hueso struggled to keep up with the young child, his old age creeping up on him. “Casey, please-” Just as he spoke, he watched the boy crash to the ground with an ‘ oof’ as a staff met his ankles just in front of the Genius Built Labs. 

“Uncle Tello-?” Casey pushed himself up, scowl on his face as he peered up at the turtle. 

“We aren’t losing Leo, Junior. I can promise you that.” He said through a pained expression. He leaned against his staff, his stability wavering more than Casey had ever seen. “But we aren’t losing you, either.” He watched as the teenager pushed himself off the ground, glaring slightly. 

“Master Donatello,” Hueso started. “What’s going on out there?”

Donnie took a long breath, separating his mind from the sore muscle that controlled him. “A lot. Too much. I’m going out there.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea-”

“There are no good ideas, right now, Tío. There are just decisions. Good or bad, we’re facing the same consequence. One way or another, something is going to happen. I know that Leo can’t make the right one, nor do I want to make him make that choice, so I’m making that decision.” While Casey couldn’t understand his full meaning, what the consequences he was referencing, Señor Hueso seemed to know immediately. His brow bone pinched together.

“You can’t fight-” He tried.

“I can do a hell of a lot more out there than I can in here,” he waved his hand back to the lab. “Hueso, I appreciate the concern, but Casey’s right. They need help. Badly .” He swallowed, typing something into his arm band.

“See! So I’m-”

“You’re not going anywhere, Junior.” His Uncle Tello pressed. “You are to remain with Hueso until further notice, you hear me?” He said in a voice Casey could never argue with. His face was stone cold, his jaw tight, and his decision made up. “We’re… they’re going to need your help once they come back.”

“Donnie,” Hueso raised a weak hand in his nephew's direction.

Pushing Casey gently back, Donnie hobbled his way to the yokai and lowered his voice. “I can’t guarantee what happens to me out there, but I know I need to try.” He took a shaky breath, “Be there for Leo if anything happens, okay? It’s not his fault.” He adds quietly before rolling his shoulders back. In seconds, his frail demeanor falls, and he’d look like a new man if it wasn’t for the tension between his brow and the slight shake of his arms. 

“What are you talking about?” Casey asked, voice weaker. As his Uncle Tello pushed past him, Hueso quickly wrapped his arms around him, guiding him away from his uncle. As Casey watched Donnie walk away, the slightest limp and resistance in his steps, the words dawned on him. He knew what Donnie was expecting. “Wait-!” Hueso tightened his grasp, “No, please! Uncle Tello, you can’t do that! You’re hurt !” He blubbered. Donnie was a monster on the battlefield; they all knew that. But he couldn’t be that tank anymore. He was too weak, in too much pain. He was thinner than he used to be, his muscles atrophying over the lack of use. There was no Uncle Raph to protect him anymore. His ninpo would only make it worse in the long run. If his energy ran out, he would-

Casey continued to scream at his uncle as he disappeared down the hall, sobbing and pleading for him to stay. If there was any speculation that Donnie might die, then Donnie would die. He was too smart, he’d have calculated his chances, he’d have known what he was risking. His Uncle Tello was walking into death’s arms with a smile on his face and a heart set in steel. 

—

Casey was in the med bay, waiting for Leo to wake up. He had been badly injured, though not the worst of them. The young boy had his mouth pressed into a thin line, trying his best to stifle his soft cries. He couldn’t believe it. It all happened so fast. He was so angry at himself for not being there. Maybe he could have helped. Maybe he could have done something. But he was hardly eleven years old- as much as he hated to admit it, he knew there was hardly anything he could have provided. At least, not enough to save his Uncle. 

The air was thick, unforgiving, and silent. No one wanted to speak, no one wanted to admit what had happened.

They had lost another Hamato. 

And Leo didn’t know. 

When everything had happened, Donnie was supporting Leo, but both got hit. From what Casey had heard, Leo went to help his twin but got taken down before he made it there, knocking him unconscious. Casey didn’t want to imagine what would happen when his Sensei woke up and realized what was gone. Who was gone.

His Uncle Angelo was seated across from him, his older brother's hand clasped tightly in his, as his face was empty. The old turtle quivered, biting his lip after a moment. 

Casey was there when Leo was brought to the med bay, and he was there when Leo was patched up. Casey was there when his Sensei woke up.

The heart monitor began to beep in a quicker, yet steady, pace as the one-armed turtle began to stir. Mikey perked up suddenly, keeping a hand gently on Leo’s plastron. Leo’s eyes fluttered open, flinching at the light above their head. Once he adjusted, he glanced at the two family members around him. “M’ky? -asey?” He muttered, raising a hand to gently rest against his pseudo-son’s face. Casey’s lips trembled as he took Leo’s hand. He couldn’t muster up any words, no matter how much he wanted to say. He wanted to say he was sorry, that he was beyond happy Leo survived, but all of his relief was drowned out by the grief of losing his uncle. Casey started crying as he threw himself into Leo’s chest, completely ignoring his health concerns. “Whoa… y’okay?” His words started making sense the longer he spoke, the slur losing itself in his worry, “It’s alright, bud, ‘m okay. I’m still breathing.” He said in a labored voice. Leo couldn’t see the kids wince at the words. 

“How are you feeling?” Mikey asked quietly. 

Leo's face contorted a few times as he moved around, measuring his levels of pain. “Fine, I guess… something feels wrong, though. Like… like I’m missing something. And not just my arm.” 

The brothers had always talked about their twin-sense, but Junior had always assumed it was a joke. Now, of all times, was the worst time to realize that maybe they had been a little bit serious. Because something was missing. A massive part of their heart had been violently ripped from their chest; their family would never be the same. 

Leo didn’t notice the quiver in Mikey’s face at his words. “Uh, the mission didn’t go quite as planned, but we won the battle.” He muttered, trying to drag his older brother, his only remaining brother, away from the devastation he had yet to learn. “People are healing pretty okay,” his voice shook. He pressed the back of his hand against his mouth, looking away quickly.

“Hey, Mikester, it’s okay, I’m okay, really!” Leo tried to console, but he couldn’t reach his hand over to his little brother. “We can revisit the plan later; we have enough supplies to get us through another few weeks without major concern. We’ll figure it out.” 

Mikey nodded, composing himself.

Leo forced a chuckle, looking at the stub of his right arm. “Donnie’s gonna be so mad when he has to fix my arm again- wait,” The resistance leader pushed himself up, keeping a hand on Casey’s back. The boy backed up, letting him move. “Donnie, where’s Donnie?” He started looking around the room, only then realizing they were in one of the very few private med rooms. 

Mikey’s face fell again, as did Junior’s. This time, Leo noticed, his brows pinching together. 

“Guys? Where’s Donnie?” He asked, his voice maintaining a stronger push. His eyes started darting around. “Mikey, talk to me.” He demanded when no one spoke. 

Mikey shook his head, tears swiftly welling up in his eyes. “He-” A sob broke free from his throat. “Leo, he didn’t-” 

The aged turtle didn’t have to finish his sentence. Casey watched the realization dawn on Leo’s face, the color draining so quickly that he was worried his Sensei would pass out again. His jaw fell slack, a breathy cry wavering out of his mouth before the sound began to intensify, his rapid breaths keeping the noise inconsistent. The cry began to grow, and soon enough, Leonardo released the most devastating, blood-curdling wail Casey had ever heard. 

Master Leonardo, the mutant known for his stoic presence, who never shook under the pressures of an apocalypse, who faced every challenge with a strong foot forward. A man who took on leading the resistance even under his crumbling self-image, fighting through his doubts and hatred. Who stayed strong in even the darkest of moments. He never let his face slip; he never let people hear him struggle. His emotions were few and far between, his power and strength a pillar for all who were suffering and pained. He was a guide, a mentor, and an anchor for the people. Casey had always believed him to be the strongest man or mutant alive. There was nothing that could defeat his Sensei. Nothing that could tear him down, nothing that could beat him. Even in the face of death, he had a smile on his face and spoke words of unbridled bravery. 

Even in mourning, Casey had seen him remain strong.

But this was different.

Leo had been there when Casey’s mother died. He had been by her side as she fought valiantly, carrying home her body with an empty expression but stories of her success and strength. Leo had been there when Grandpa Splinter died, holding his hand and listening to the labored breaths of the old rat. At least in a time of despair, Casey’s grandpa had the chance to die of natural causes, but it didn’t ease the pain of the loss any. Leo had known his father was going to die, his age and poor health creeping up on him as the state of the world worsened. 

Leo had been there when his eldest brother died. He had watched Uncle Raph sacrifice himself to protect the weak and endangered, a shining example of all he stood for. Leo had seen it all unfold, but he remained a leader; he remained stoic. 

Leo had the time to process, or at least he had been there . But this time, this time he wasn’t there. He hadn’t seen it, hadn’t had the moment to fight back, hadn’t expected it. He woke up with the expectation of seeing his twin.

Leo collapsed forward, weeping into his lap as he screamed unintelligible words. Mikey’s grief gave in as he began to sob, his head dropping as he gripped the bed sheets with a strength unknown to anyone who lived. Casey followed suit, his unrelenting tears turning to waterfalls as he slid down to his knees, his forehead pressed into the mattress. 

“No, no, no, please ,” Leo cried, his broken voice drowning in sorrow as the tears stained his face and his throat gave out from the unstable breaths. “Why, why, why,” He repeated, over and over again. Somewhere between the violent weeping, Casey heard him utter, ‘I can’t do this without you. ’ 

Across the lair, Master Leonardo’s bawling rang across the halls, one of the most pained sounds anyone had heard. No one spoke, no one moved, but they all recognized the pain that reaped Leo’s soul. He would never be the same again, the strongest supporter in his life torn down and left his heart to collapse. 

The turtle's hand pounded into the bed, in a desperate attempt to destroy something, to mirror the agony and destruction of his heart and mind, his strength weakening every time until he brought the trembling hand to his chest. He curled his finger over the space his heart sat, beating weakly beneath his plastron, and released another violent sob.

Hearing his Sensei cry like this only made Casey weep harder, curling into himself on the floor. Similarly, his hands grasped at his shirt over his quickly beating heart, unable to stop the pained sobs that ripped his throat apart. Mikey remained at Leo’s side, his cries no weaker than Casey’s.

Mikey rested a hand on Leo’s shoulders, desperately needing something physical to keep himself grounded. With Leo’s eyes shut, he sat up and wrapped his arm around his little brother, allowing Mikey to dig his face into the crook of his neck. The two brothers cried together, their grief tearing them apart from the inside until it was no longer possible for them to cry.

Casey didn’t know when it had happened, but two more figures had found their way into the private room. Hueso was at Casey’s side, kneeling to meet the boy's fallen position, rubbing a hand in circles on his back, not saying a word. There was nothing he could say that would ease the pain, so he didn’t try. Casey needed to grieve.

Draxum didn’t know what to do, but he knew he needed to be there. Draxum was Mikey’s closest family outside of his brothers; he thought that at least his presence could bring some support. He stood behind the brothers who clung to each other for dear life, in a desperate attempt to assure each other that they weren’t alone, that they hadn’t lost all that they knew. He had a hand on Mikey’s shoulder, and soon enough, tears pricked Draxum's eyes. 

He wasn’t an emotional yokai. But he wasn’t a liar, either. He had grown fond of the strange family he had created over the many years he’d been a reformed villain. He cared deeply for the boys as his own sons, though he’d hardly admit it. Donnie was a brilliant man. Draxum had spent many nights at his side as he worked, inquiring and supporting his science. They had grown closer than Draxum had ever anticipated, especially after the purple turtle's initial distrust of the yokai. But Donnie needed a parent who cared about his science, and Draxum was that. Science is what brought the two together, and Draxum couldn't've been prouder.

At that moment, he couldn’t help but wish he had said that more. He wished he had told Donnie how much he cared, how much he marveled at his work, how proud he really was. He spoke those words the turtle so terribly craved from time to time, even as they got older, but he should have said it more. Draxum should have been better. 

Before he knew it, Draxum was crying as well, though softer, and the tears fell slower than those he shared the space with, but they fell nonetheless. He felt the absence in his heart, a feeling he had felt before. Raph’s death hadn’t been any easier. Draxum had tried to save him, to replace or revive the failing organs and body of the young man. He had been too gravely injured, and the time between his injury and death was less than an hour. Raphael had known he was going to die, suffering injuries no one ever dreamed of imagining. Yet he maintained a smile on his face as he spoke his last words. Draxum had watched it happen. He had rushed the large turtle as fast as he could, but his trembling hands and panicked heart couldn’t understand how to save him. The guilt weighed him down for years. 

Now, he hadn’t even had the chance to protect Donnie.

The broken and weakened family stayed in that room for what felt like hours, crying out everything they had. The war was taking all that they knew, all that they found comfort in.

Once Casey had managed to crawl his way off the floor, with the support of Hueso, he watched his Uncle and Sensei with swollen eyes and chalky breath. Leo’s grasp over his brother's back, even with one hand, was the strongest yet most desperate hold Casey had ever seen. 

They would never be the same again. Casey would never feel relief from the immense guilt that ransacked his heart, knowing he watched Donnie leave the lair, knowing the last thing he ever did was scream and cry at his Uncle to not leave him, to not abandon them. He would forever regret not hugging him one last time, for taking advantage of his privileges of being their weird nephew and clinging to Donnie to remember what his warmth felt like, for not saying he loved his Uncle before he left. Leo would never live the same, a part of his heart and soul bleeding as a reminder of what he lost. Mikey would never be the same man, knowing his powers would never be strong enough to protect all of those he loved and cared for.

Casey hadn’t realized he was crying until a gentle, calloused hand appeared on his shoulder. He wasn’t sleeping well, the memory clearly playing in his head after his discussion with Raph. 

“Are you okay?” Cassandra asked, still resting next to him, with a phone previously in front of her face with the audio shut off. 

Casey opened his tearful eyes, keeping his gaze down. He didn’t want more reminders of the family he had lost, but he loved his mother, and he didn’t want to lie. He shook his head slightly. “I don’t want to talk about it.” He whispered. 

“That’s okay, you don’t have to.” Her usually loud and boisterous voice was now soft and forgiving, a comfort Junior had so desperately missed. “Do you want a hug?” Casey thought for a moment before nodding. Cass tossed her phone to the side and scooted forward, shuffling her arm under her closely aged son and pulling him close for an embrace. Casey’s arms trembled as he wrapped his arms around his mother. A few tears continued to fall, but he mostly concerned himself with the warmth and physicality of his mother. Reassurance of her life had been a good grounder over the past few months. Even though she was now only a few years older than he, she had insisted on continuing her role as his mother. Having lost her once, having her so close was an unbeatable comfort. 

Another soft cry escaped his throat as he curled closer to Cassandra. She placed a kiss on top of his head and rubbed his back, not saying a word. Casey let the memories pass through his mind, recalling faint details that he had lost as trauma and immediate danger overran his past. 

___________

Raph had checked on the mother and son not long after his conversation with Casey and couldn’t help but feel bad about contributing to the terrible memories the young boy was suffering through. 

This was bad. Whatever was troubling Donnie in the future had become fatal to a degree. Maybe not the exact cause of death, but definitely a contributor. 

He’d have to talk with Leo later about what he knew. They had to do something, and Raph wasn’t feeling too particular about picking Casey’s brain about all of his painful memories. He should talk with April as well; maybe she could shed some light on the situation. She was incredibly close with Donnie, so she should be able to help. At least he hoped. 

Chapter Text

The previous day had passed by rather… oddly. The lair itself felt empty, void of the usual energy. Even if the lair had been lacking its usual upbeat noise over the past few months, understandably so with the fear of the end of the world still haunting them, the air would still be light, there’d still be some hints of fractured joy piecing itself together. Yet, all of Monday had been a drag. Mikey seemed the best out of all of them, but he still quietly went about his day, as though lost in thought. Leo spent most of the hours hiding in his room, which felt justified in Raph’s books, since his younger brother was dealing with a lot of emotional loss and just wanted to be left alone for a while. Donnie was… well, Donnie. Odd and confusing, his actions and behaviors providing enough whiplash to even drive Raph a little crazy. Casey had his mood set early on, which, yes, Raph still felt terrible about. Cassandra had hung around the whole day, along with her son, but they remained rather quiet and peaceful, which was jarring, but Raph understood and let them be, providing comfort when he could.

It was a difficult thing to witness, Casey Junior’s saddened state. There wasn’t much of a reliable way to comfort him, his agony sourced from something long gone. Raph caught the boy staring at the doors of Donnie’s lab from time to time, a clear desire to go in there and give the turtle a suffocating hug, but every time he thought about it, he refrained. There was clearly the mental block of knowing that his Uncle Tello and this Donnie were different, but also the conflict they were currently facing. Donnie wasn’t himself; therefore, his chances of getting any sort of affection had practically been thrown into a volcano to burn along with everything else in the world. It was difficult because Raph knew how badly he wanted a reminder that Donnie was alive, that he had survived the Kraang, that he was there, that Junior wasn’t being abandoned by Donnie. Raph had spoken with Junior about it, a few quiet words shared without pushing a limit. Things were never explicitly said, but the snapping turtle got the point. Casey wanted a reminder that he hadn’t been abandoned by his uncle, since Donnie was still alive and kicking, albeit barely, but his seclusion and emotional distance still felt like abandonment. Just in a different sense.

When the next morning rolled around, the air was still thick, the tension emanating off the family, but they went about their day as if nothing were wrong.

Raph was sitting in the kitchen, waiting for Mikey to finish up lunch. They kept a simple conversation, Raph allowing his little brother to talk on about the new spices he was testing out. Hearing Mikey speak and move with such simplicity and ease warmed Raph’s heart. His little brother was healing.

It wasn’t long until another turtle found his way into the kitchen, slowly and quietly. Mikey looked over his shoulder, matching Raph.

“Dee!” He smiled, a genuine smile. “Come for lunch?”

“Water,” Donnie responded, returning a weak smile. 

Mikey nodded, “How’s your back?”

Raph narrowed his eyes in confusion for a moment. What was wrong with Donnie’s back? Had something happened? Was the fall in the sewers causing more harm? He watched Donnie shake his head and shrug. 

“Feels fine. I told you, Miguel, I’m all set.” He quickly filled his water bottle before retreating to his lab. When Mikey met Raph’s confused eyes, the box turtle turned away.

“I’d tell you if I could, but I’ll let Donnie inform you. He promised me he would today; if he doesn’t, then I’ll fill you in.” He stated simply, returning to his cooking. 

Fantastic. Raph couldn’t help but roll his eyes and take a heavy breath. He needed to have that conversation with April and Leo stat. He was getting tired. But of course, their human sister had responsibilities, like a loser, and he had to wait until she was finished with college for the day. 

What was he supposed to do in the meantime? He had no idea. Time seemed to slow exponentially when the concerns of his brothers were weighing him down. He had dealt with his therapy for his eye, taken his medication, and sat through the annoying eye drops. He’d even hit the dojo for a while, repping basic drills to reconstruct his coordination with the vision difference, and his usual strength training routine. Mikey had joined him to spar a time or two, but his arms were a bit shaky, so he didn’t stick around for long. Raph even tried reading for a while. Unsurprisingly, still wasn’t much of his thing. Comics were great, at least the art could guide what he was reading a bit more, but reading just straight novels? Not ideal. 

It wasn’t until Donnie knocked on the side of his door that his interest in the world finally came back to him. His younger brother looked nervous, all things considered. His eyes pointed slightly to the floor, and he was gently picking at his nails, but eventually, his body calmed, and he met Raph’s eyes. “Are you free to talk for a moment?” He asked, voice quiet.

Raph closed the boring book he was holding and tossed it across his bed, entirely forgetting about it. “Yeah, what’s going on?” He asked, assuring his voice was gentle and welcoming. 

“About earlier, in the kitchen,” Donnie started, slowly walking into the room. Raph noted the slightest limp in his steps, the strength of his right leg just a hint weaker than the left. Raph scooted up in his bed and made room for his brother. “I figured out what was wrong with me.” Raph raised a brow while Donnie took a hesitant seat on the bed before pulling his legs up to his chest. Raph noticed the slight shiver in his arms. Why was it that Donnie was so cold recently?

When Donnie admitted his discovery, Raph couldn’t help but be slightly confused. He didn’t show it on his face, though, allowing his brother to say everything he wanted to. 

“Raph still doesn’t understand why you would hide that from us,” Raph said after Donnie wrapped up his story. In all honesty, it didn’t sound right. Too many bits and pieces seemed too convenient, or they didn’t line up with what little medical knowledge Raph had. Which wasn’t much, but raising Leo and watching him go through his medical obsession phase had its perks.

Donnie pressed his lips together and looked away. “Look, I’ll admit I wasn’t being smart about the whole situation. But I’d rather not talk about it right now… maybe during therapy?”

Raph sighed through his nose and moved forward to place a hand on his younger brother's shoulder. “Alright. I’ll let it go for now, but you have to promise that we talk about it later, okay?”

The softshell met his gaze with a soft smile, a look that seemed so close to genuine that it stung Raph’s heart when he realized that it wasn’t quite there. Donnie nodded and stood to leave. Raph watched his back as he walked away, realizing he wasn’t wearing his battle shell. He’d like to believe Donnie was being honest, but something felt off. He may not have known anything about herniated disks, but he thought that could have been found through X-rays, right? Surely that was a problem their technology could have located?

As though the universe heard his confusion as a call for help, Raph’s phone pinged with a new message. Separating himself from his confusion, he peered down at the bright screen. He was met with the long-awaited text from his sister that she was on her way. 

_______________

 Raph and April were sitting on Leo’s room floor, their legs crossed, and April was hugging a pillow to her chest. Leo was on his bed, having to fight his body for some form of relaxation. The air was tense, his older brother trying to find the words to start.

“I wanted to ask if either of you could explain the whole depressive episode Donnie had. It was so out of character for him, and as much as I hate to say it, that was what really struck me that something was wrong with him.” The night of Donnie’s nightmare had been weighing on them all. He had never admitted what that nightmare was, and they all had their doubts that he ever would. But Leo would be lying if he said he didn't feel a shift in Donnie’s energy after that night. His twin was so close to tipping over the edge, from letting that wall suffocate him, that Leo could feel it. He felt it deep in his heart, like an invisible chain that wrapped around his soul, the same chain that cut through Donnie’s. It burned, knowing his twin was distressed, and there was nothing Leo was allowed to do about it. Leo knew he could help; he also knew he could have been doing a lot better earlier on in this crashing timeline, but Donnie’s resistance felt like a slap in the face nonetheless. 

“Depression isn’t really known for making anyone act in character, so I can’t say it’ll be easy to figure out what caused it. He must have had a lot of stuff going on internally that just… got to be too much?” April suggested.

Got to be too much. God, Leo hoped it wouldn’t be that bad. He was terrified of what would happen if Donnie followed Leo’s tendencies. They all knew another invasion wasn’t going to happen; they doubted they’d ever experience something so awful ever again, but the anxiety was always present in the back of Leo’s mind. What if something did happen and Donnie decided to sacrifice himself the same way Leo did? What if he felt so much loss in himself that he didn’t see the point in fighting?

He shuddered, sending off the thought. “Depression isn’t predicatable, but I still think there was something that had to have set him off, at least to some degree.” Leo propped himself up on his elbow to look at his family. “If my theories remain accurate, which I’m sure they do, Donnie’s emotional state is due to the medical shifts. Depression and anxiety are both symptoms of a lot of medical conditions, so even if my ideas are a little skewed, we won’t be far off. With that, anything could have set him off, something small or something big.”

“A lot of small things added up tend to get to him,” Raph added. “But we didn’t do much that day, I don’t think. Well, Donnie didn’t. He stayed home with April.”

“He was kinda weird that afternoon,” Leo said, though his memories quickly caught him up on the argument he had had with his twin prior. Raph’s expression showed he remembered that as well, but decided against mentioning it. “For more reasons than one.” He muttered.

“Dee and I were just working on my homework before it started, I think. His mood changed really quickly out of nowhere before we ate dinner. I mean, the homework was pretty hard, so maybe something with that?”

The teenagers thought in silence for a moment.

“Ah!” April snapped, catching the brothers off guard. “I got it!”

The two turtles looked at her with anticipation.

She waved her hand around in thought, “Back track with me, here.” She cleared her throat. “Do you guys remember when we all went on the day trip to the Hidden City for the first time?”

“Oh, how I miss my hair…” Leo whispered, a hand dramatically placed over his heart. 

“All too well,” Raph grumbled. “But that was two years ago, what does that have to do with anything?”

“Well,” April dragged out the word, lacing her hands together, “I don’t think Donnie ever went into much detail about what happened in Witch Town, but I learned quite a bit about him that day.” Raph raised a brow, “Donnie places a lot of value in his tech, value of himself, right? While we were in Witch Town, he had a bit of a freak out about whether he was worth anything if he didn’t have his tech or if he was smart.” April saw the two turtles’ faces twitch at the mention. It was definitely a topic they were aware of, an insecurity they all knew Donnie had, but they thought he was getting better. He hadn’t seemed to face that difficulty recently. “He didn’t know how to answer one of the questions, so maybe?” Her voice trailed off, not knowing how to piece together the rest of her thought.

Leo’s face fell. “Oh damnit,” he face-palmed, “Why didn’t I see it earlier?” The other two waited for him. “Fibro fog is a symptom that causes brain fog, memory loss, and difficulty concentrating.”

He could see his family connecting the dots.

“If he’s experiencing that symptom, therefore struggling with remembering any sort of science-” Leo started.

“And not being able to focus on his work, then he was dealing with a lot of…” Raph didn’t want to finish what he was saying.

“Self-hatred.” Leo finished, knowing the feeling all too well. “If he was being relied on for help, with Organic Chemistry, a topic he used to have mastered, and he couldn’t achieve what he thought he could have, then he would hate himself.” He said quietly. “He wouldn’t have seen the point in anything.”

The air turned somber at Leo’s words. Why hadn’t they figured that out earlier? Why hadn’t Leo recognized the threats of the non-physical symptoms? He should have known his twin better. He should have acted sooner.

“A herniated disk couldn’t have caused that, I’m assuming?” Raph finally spoke after a long silence.

“A herniated disk? What does that have to do with anything?” Leo asked.

Raph looked at the floor briefly. “That’s what Donnie said was wrong with him… earlier. He told Mikey and me that. But I didn’t believe him all that much.”

“Bullshit.” Leo huffed as he slumped back, his arms crossed tightly over his chest while he looked far ahead of him. “Herniated disc? That’s the best he could think of? That kind of thing doesn’t cause long-term emotional changes. He’s smarter than that.” The bite of his tone quickly replaced any sympathy he had, annoyance taking precedence.

Raph nodded slowly after catching Leo and April up on everything Donnie had told him. “That could have been found through our scans, right?”

“Yeah, the MRI we did after he fell would have alluded to it. I would have been able to catch it, especially if it was bad enough to last this long.” Leo rolled his eyes, his voice laced heavily with an odd mix of emotions. He was so tired of all the fighting he was going through. The physical fights with his brother, the mental fights with himself, and the emotional ones he didn’t quite understand. “How stupid does he think I am? How gullible does he think you guys are? This is ridiculous.” 

April exchanged a concerning look with Raph, now fully exposed to the attitude Leo has been carrying the past few days.

“Mikey believes him…” April muttered.

Leo pressed his eyes shut, dragging his hands down his face. Groaning, he said, “How are we supposed to tell Mikey that Donnie lied again? All he wants is some damn peace in this family.” A peace they were struggling to hang onto. 

“We won't say anything,” Raph admits. “It’s not like Donnie can keep that secret for long, but we can tell he needs some sort of comfort. Since he’s not going to seek that from you, Leo, if we can allow Mikey to keep him happy for another day or so, I don’t see why not.”

“Comfort and joy from lying to our baby brother? Sue me for not thinking that’s a great idea.” He grumbled, finally looking to Raph. 

“That’s not what I meant, Leo.” 

Leo sighed, his tired eyes dropping, immediately regretting his tone. His emotions had a way of controlling him as of late. “I’m sorry.”

“I know.” Raph smiled softly. April rested a hand on Raph’s shoulder, a matching look on her face. “I regret not taking better action earlier. We all know something is wrong with him; we just need to find a way to help him.”

Leo scoffed, “We can’t help him. He won’t take it. It’s not worth the effort.” Even as the words left his mouth, he knew he didn’t mean it. Leo wanted to be there for his twin; he wanted to help him and take away whatever it was that was hurting him, but his efforts only ended in vain, and his emotional turmoil was tearing him down.

He could feel Raph and April’s eyes on him as he complained. He can feel their worry and their exhaustion. Before Raph can get a word in, Leo decides to speak.

“I can't help him, Raph.” Silence. “Every time I try, one of us gets mad and everything backfires.” Leo can feel a lump forming in his throat, breaking his voice ever so slightly. “I don’t know why I’m this way. It’s never been so difficult to help him, and I’ve never needed to help him more in his life. Why can't he just… why can't he just listen to me?”

Raph pushed himself off the floor and rested a hand on Leo’s shoulder. “Because he knows he can't lie to you. Dad said he wasn’t talking to us because he was worried about our healing, and you got the worst of us, so he’s just scared.”

“I don’t care if I've got the worst of us, Raph! I care that my brother is suffering something unknown and keeps lying about it!” The anger had returned to his voice, but it didn’t show itself alone. Leo was mad, yes, but he was lost. He was sad and exhausted. He was upset that his temperament was weaker, that he couldn’t hold his face in times of need. That everything he was feeling showed itself like warning lights, breaking him apart when he needed to be strong. He couldn’t even maintain the image of a brother who cared, all of his efforts being torn apart by his anger, left to be misunderstood and misinterpreted. “I’m mad, Raph! I’m mad at Donnie, and I’m mad at myself. I can’t help him.” He restated.

His older brother took a deep breath and then nodded. “Raph hears ya, Leo.” He said softly. “I’ll see what I can do, for now. Just try to relax as much as you can and we’ll see what happens on Thursday, okay?”

Leo nodded, “Okay.” He responded, voice weak.

Raph turned to leave, motioning for April to join him. She does, but not before she walks to the blue turtle and rubs his shoulder, kissing him on the forehead. She said a few kind words that hardly registered in his mind and followed behind his eldest brother.

When silence fell back over his room, Leo felt tears line his eyes.

He wanted to understand what was going on in his head, but he couldn’t. Leo was mad. Mad at Donnie, though most importantly, mad at himself. Why was he upset with Donnie? He shouldn’t be. If his twin were going through something as serious as facing a life-long disability, he shouldn’t be harboring such negative emotions against him. But he couldn’t make sense of whatever else was swirling around in his head. 

He was scared. Scared that everything was his fault. Scared that the invasion was why his twin would deal with a potentially life-altering condition.

Leo shouldn’t be mad at Donnie, but he was. Donnie was still making bad decisions, still lying. He was taking advantage of Mikey’s trusting nature, and that made Leo mad. Mikey wanted nothing more than to heal their ever-suffering family, and Donnie’s false improvements were not going to further that goal. 

Was it too much to wish that everything went back to the way things had been before? Before the invasion, before he was a leader, before he had such complexity in his head? Leo wanted simplicity. He wanted a break. 

He wanted to feel fine, to feel happy, carefree. He wanted Donnie to be himself again. Leo missed his twin; his progressively worsening behavior felt like a splitting ravine in Leo’s life. He felt separated. He felt as though he couldn’t feel his twin the way he used to, that twin sense, that knowledge that no matter what, at least he had his brother to help him through life.

But Donnie was gone, in some way. And this wasn't about Leo, after all. 

Leo hadn’t sought comfort from his nightmares recently, even though he desperately needed it. Leo hadn’t annoyed his twin in his demanding way, and Donne hadn’t annoyed him in his own endearing way.

He knew he was thinking too much about himself in all of it, but the absence of his twin was eating away at Leo’s heart. He wanted his brother back more than anything, but he knew that no matter what he did, his anger would overrun his actions and make everything worse.

That wouldn’t stop him from trying, though.

Chapter Text

Every lie Donnie spoke slipped out of his mouth with disgusting ease. Those words, rotting and slimy, were taken as gold by his little brother. He hated it. He hated how easy it was. Mikey believed every word he said, every false effort of healing. Part of him wanted to stop, but a bigger part of him told him that there was no point. If Donnie wasn’t going to get better, then he wasn’t going to tell his most empathetic brother, or any of them, for that matter, that something was wrong with him. He would be stuck the way that he was, and there was nothing he could do about it.

The feelings continued to fester into something worse in his heart, a sensation close to suffocation as his body only worsened, as he found more and more ways that his body was failing. He was exhausted and in pain. The pain was unlike most things he had felt. The burns and pressure mimicked the few occasions in childhood, but the intensity was unmatched and new. Donnie felt that his mind was so often elsewhere, his thoughts not his own, and hardly heard, his attention frail and distant. He was reaching out for the threads of himself that were just out of reach, watching as they floated further and further away, the laughing taunts still heard out in the distance. He felt like he was teetering on the edge of completely losing himself, on the verge of collapse, like something, deep within his mind, was going to crush him.

There was nothing he could do that would pull him away from the swarms of self-loathing, everything a sticky, painful reminder of what he was becoming and what he had lost. Every invention was a reminder of his frail mind, every idea to talk to his brothers was a reminder of his lies, every movement sent shivers of pain down his body, a reminder of his weakening muscles. So what was Donnie left to do? He was left to sit in silence, the heated blanket that hardly took effect anymore over his lap, letting the thoughts drown out everything worth meaning in life.

He had remained that way for most of his days. He only broke out of it the prior day to get himself a convincing amount of water and food, though he could never finish it, the sharp, seething pain in his throat ever present, and to force out his lies to his eldest brother. He had broken out of it now to stare at his computer, convincing himself that if his body was going to be rendered useless for the rest of his life, he might as well at least try to fix his mind.

Donnie had maintained a slow pace of work, his thoughts drifting elsewhere after every few minutes, his hands would tremble if he typed too fast, he could never sit comfortably enough, every bend of his knee releasing a persistent ache throughout his lower body. He figured he’d stay that way all day, too tired to even attempt eating. That was, until he heard a knock at his lab doors. He pressed his eyes shut and took a deep breath, regretting already that he had disabled his lock.

The mechanical sound of the metal sliding open was not followed by a voice, but the small shadow ruled off Raph as being his unwelcome visitor. Donnie didn’t turn; his shoulders were too strained to feel like moving.

But his visitor took a nervous breath, the slight tone revealing his twin. “Why are you lying to our brothers?” He asked quietly. There was little harm in his voice, but a resistant exhaustion and worry instead.  Leo only inquired with genuine concern and curiosity, an odd switch-up from his usual sharp words.

Leo and Donnie hadn’t spoken recently. It never seemed to go well when they did, so when Leo showed up now, Donnie couldn’t help but be conflicted. How was he going to move forward in this interaction? It wouldn’t be possible to convincingly say that Donnie didn’t miss his brother. But the part of him that loved his presence was so much weaker than it used to be. Not just that, but any part of him that loved, or cared, or experienced joy was fading. So was it hard to understand that he didn’t want Leo to know? Donnie was still beyond annoyed that Leo wouldn’t let it go, and he didn’t want to be pressed further about his current regrets.

Most importantly, he didn’t want Leo to see his weaknesses. Donnie had lived a life with this specific image, this way of life. All of his brothers had a stone solid idea of who Donnie was in their mind; what he was good at, what he was bad at, what he liked and didn’t like, how he acted, and how he didn’t. He had spent his whole life rather averse to emotion, and his brothers knew that. They adjusted to him, even. But now? How was he supposed to express that his emotions were becoming too much to handle? If he opened up about how he hated feeling this way or how he hated that his mind had transformed itself into a warzone, how was he supposed to go back to the way he used to live? His brothers would expect change, and Donnie hated change. He didn’t want to change who he was. This pained version of him, this weak, harmful, unforgiving version of Donnie, was enough change. If this is what he had to be, and it was already proving to be a difficult shift, then he didn’t want to subject himself to anything more.

“Leave me alone.” He harshly whispered, but loud enough for his words to carry. His voice was slightly scratchy, the air shattering the skin of his throat. Donnie needed to be freed from this cage of confrontation. Truly, he didn’t want to ruin his relationship with his twin any further, but the patterns of their previous interactions were not in their favor. What was worse, Leo was trying to fix it, but Donnie was not. Donnie was going to fight until he couldn’t, because that’s all he knew. Too much was going on in his head for him to make any sensible decisions that didn’t result in some nasty consequences.

“Donnie, you can’t keep doing this.” Leo insisted, sounding more desperate than Donnie liked. “I’m really worried about you-”

“I can do whatever I like, Nardo.” Donnie interrupted. He slowly stood from his chair. “And I am sick of you trying to play hero.” He didn’t remember thinking that. Or saying it, he certainly didn’t think about saying that.

“Dee, please, I’m not here to fight you.” Leo continued, still maintaining that softness in his voice. As absent as Donnie was to emotions, he could tell Leo was restraining himself.

Fine. If Leo wanted to mess up whatever good was there, then fine. Donnie had tried, albeit not much, and clearly that wasn’t a shared sentiment. At least if that was destroyed, it was one less thing for him to worry about. 

“Then what do you want?” Donnie scowled, meeting his brother’s eyes.

Leo’s shoulders fell at the contact. His view danced between Donnie and the floor, his mouth pressed into a thin line. “I want you to be honest with us, that’s all. Especially with Mikey, he’s been working endlessly for us, and it’s not fair to him that you’re lying.”

“You want honesty, Leo?” Donnie widened his eyes for emphasis, “Okay! Yeah, I’ll be honest! I’m tired of you trailing me at every step, for assuming things about me, for testing me without my permission. You think you can do whatever you please just because your ego is too weak to resist? This is my life, Leo. I will do what I think is best because I know what I need. Not you.”

Leo recoiled gently, his shoulders tensing up. His eyes flashed with hurt before he closed them, and his face became stoic again. “I know that I haven’t been doing great with this whole situation, and I’m sorry that I keep upsetting you, but is it wrong for me to care?”

Donnie could feel the words bubbling up in his chest, and he pleaded with himself not to say them, but his fear of being known and recognized was bigger than his fear of hurting his brother. “This isn’t about you, Leo.” Shit. Even if Donnie knew those words struck a nerve, Leo’s face remained soft, disgustingly forgiving. Donnie didn’t deserve that. He had been so terrible, and by the pain reaping through his chest, his heart didn’t plan on stopping any time soon. “If you cared, you’d listen to me. You’d leave me alone, you’d forget all about the delusions you’re making up. You wouldn’t force shit on me.”

‘Delusions’ seemed to break Leo down a bit. “That’s not caring, Donnie! Ignoring a clear problem is not caring! I’m not going to sit here and watch you destroy yourself because your ego is too high to ask for help! I don’t think you do know what’s best for you, because clearly, whatever you’re doing isn't working.” He let his voice quiet down after a brief outburst. Donnie would think it admirable if he were in his right mind.

“Oh, I’m sorry!” He sassed, “I didn’t realize that you were living in my body! I didn’t know you were living my life, that you knew every in and out of what I’m dealing with!”

“I would if you told us!” Leo pleaded.

“Don’t start,” Donnie growled, “I’m the one dealing with this, so I do, in fact, know what’s best for me! I know what helps and what doesn’t, and I’ve got to say, you aren’t doing yourself any favors in that department.”

Leo looked exasperated. “So you know there’s something wrong with you!” He threw his hands in his twins' direction before letting them fall to his side. “Why are you so determined to make things worse? Why won’t you let us help you?”

“I don’t want your pity, Leo.” He tried to redirect from the unintentional reveal. Oh, how he wished he could lie to Leo, but it would never work. “I’m perfectly fine, as is. I’m still functioning, aren’t I? I’m fine, we’re all fine, so you need to back off, let it go, and leave me alone.” His voice was steadily getting louder as he spoke.

“Please,” Leo tried to take a step forward, but Donnie’s sharp glare sent him back, “I don’t want to watch you get worse!”

“Then close your eyes.” Donnie bit. “Turn around, don’t look at me, stop making up shit in your head, I don’t know! You’re not helping me, and by the looks of it, not helping yourself either. Take your injured pride and leave me alone. I’m not here to make you feel better about yourself by being some sort of savior.”

Silence. And a lot of hurt. Clear, evident hurt and exhaustion spread over Leo’s face as he shook his head gently. “You make a terrible liar. I hope you know that.” He finally said, voice quiet and weak, before turning around and leaving Donnie’s lab.

Donnie stood there, ignoring the searing pain behind his knees, the whole argument replaying in his head. He stared at the place where his twin stood long after the doors had shut and left him in solitude.

Not his best moment, he’d admit. The swarming agony in his heart was driving him crazy, the lack of control over himself, and the outbursts he kept having. He wasn't himself. He hadn't felt like himself in so long that he was beginning to admit that maybe he would never feel at home in his own body again. 

The burning in his throat grew stronger, the usage of his voice sending knives into his throat as punishment.

He needed to get Leo away. He would be the one thing that broke his facade, the one person he couldn't lie to, the one person who cared enough to tear him down in the name of love. Donnie didn't want to be torn down, because that meant being seen. He didn't want to be perceived, not in the state he was in now. He wanted to run away from his pain, both physical and emotional, away from the people who cared because they were too close. Too close to seeing him weak, and Donnie couldn’t face the idea of being weak. 

…

The logical knew there was nothing that could be done. He was going to die there, crushed by the bricks that he watched build the wall. He knew it was his fault, at least in part. His regret was dragging him down, every memory of his harsh words to the illogical playing in his mind like a raging bell, alerting him that their time had come.

The wall was tipping too far; the wind had picked up to a violent pace for too long. All it would take is one more push and the small prison that encased him would collapse around him. The bricks would take him down along with every other figment of the body’s emotional state, leaving nothing but barren lands that served no purpose. The shadows would take over, and, at that point, there was no telling what would happen. There would be no passion, no joy, no life, nothing telling their body that there was reason to exist beyond being a husk of a man no longer there. 

His efforts were futile; they started too late and too weakly. It didn’t matter how much he tried, how badly he wanted to fix his mistake, as it would never be enough. He had lost the battle with the shadows and with the other part of himself. Now, he would suffer the consequences. 

The logical didn’t know what he was going to do when the wall fell. But he sat on the cold, rough ground and awaited his end. He could hear the builder outside the thick layers of brick, whistling a sad and slow tune, ultimately waiting for his demise in his own way.

In the field of death, the illogical had been taken to the ground not long ago, the vines prowling further and further up his body. They broke through his skin, tearing him apart, allowing the blood from his dried and cracked skin to pool around him, mixing with the silent tears that spilled from his eyes. He curled into himself further, feeling the dig of the thorns as they pressed further into his muscles, and couldn’t help but feel like he deserved it. He had been weak, he had given up, he had let the shadows convince him of the awful truths of his failures. 

He was worth nothing; therefore, he should be treated as such.

______________________

It was the fourth Thursday of the month. Therapy Thursday, as Mikey called it. Not unlike every other bi-weekly family therapy session, Donnie didn’t want to be there. The argument between the twins hadn’t gone completely unnoticed. The air was tense enough to cut through, the exhausted eye bags under Leo’s eyes, and the stone-cold expression of Donnie’s loomed over the table as the brothers stared at each other. The youngest of them, who adorned his signature turtle neck and glasses, had been doing his best to ignore it, wanting some sort of progress to come from the session.

“Okay,” Mikey smiled, clapping his hands together, getting over the nerves that shivered through his arms. “I think we’ve been doing really well recently with honesty,” Right. Donnie was still doing an excellent job in upkeeping his lies with their little brother. Leo could hardly resist the call of rolling his eyes. “So there isn't much that I want to particularly focus on. With that being said, does anyone want to start?” Leo could see the silent plea for something good to happen. Too bad things weren’t in his favor.

“I don’t think we’re being honest enough,” Leo said coldly, looking right at his twin, whose attention was elsewhere. He couldn’t stop the annoyance that seeped into his voice, the anger from the previous day taking over. He knew it was a bad idea to talk to Donnie. He knew it wouldn’t end well, and look where it got him. Now tensions were higher than ever, and Donnie had never felt so far away. At his words, Donnie sighed and rolled his eyes.

“Oh!” Mikey seemed shocked, but pleased that Leo was contributing and taking initiative. “Leo, why is that?”

The slider shrugged dramatically, failing to hide his anger. “I don’t know, just sometimes I feel like certain turtles aren’t being as open and honest as we encourage them to be. Like everything we say is just pointless.” He spat out the last word. “Donnie, tell me, why do you think that is?” He pressed with a noticeable sharpness in his voice. 

Donnie huffed a breath, biting his lip to prevent himself from speaking.

“Go on, Donald, I’d love to hear what you have to say.” Leo continued. Even as he spoke, he wanted to stop. This wasn’t helping. Nothing ever seemed to. But his heart continued to take the lead, rather than his mind, and he’d noticed that often led to some more negative effects. But what was done was done.

“Get off my ass, Nardo.” Donnie returned the aggression, fed up and tired.

Mikey suddenly panicked, “Okay, guys,” he put his hands out nervously, “I can see there’s some tens-”

“No, I will not, Donnie.” Leo stood, placing his hands on the table and leaning forward. “Mikey has been working so hard to adapt to your emotionally unavailable bad-boy spiel, and you turn around and lie to his face. You lie to all of us and expect us to be okay with it!” Mikey jerked his head back, glancing at Donnie with betrayal in his eyes. “There is clearly something wrong with you, and the fact that you aren’t telling us is getting annoying. All we’re trying to do is help you. Not pity you, not degrade you, help you.” Even though he spoke words with genuine care, his voice was harsh and opposing.

Donnie stood up, meeting Leo’s eyes with a painful intensity. When he spoke, his voice was broken and scratchy, as if the mere thought of speaking caused him physical pain. “I don’t want to hear shit from you about keeping things secret, Leo.” This was so on brand, Leo noticed, dodging the conflicts so that he doesn’t have to face himself. He was aiming to strike a nerve to get the attention off of him. Leo was so close. He just wished this wasn’t the way to go. 

“Guys-” Mikey tried to cut in.

“Excuse me?” Leo retorted. He may have a goal, but he was still upset at his twin.

Donnie forced out a laugh, the sound prickly and strained. “Oh, come on, Leo. I’m well aware you aren’t being fully honest during these stupid therapy sessions, either. You’re still hiding plenty of your problems because you don’t trust us, so I don’t want to hear anything out of you, you hypocrite!” 

Leo scoffed, “At least I’m trying! I’m working with Mikey, I’m feeling better about myself, I’m making progress! You, however,” he lowered his voice, more anger and fear coming forward, “keep shutting yourself out. That’s not fair, Donnie! That’s not fair to us, not to Mikey, not to you!”

“It’s not like it’s working! I’ve attended this therapy to appease you all, and I’ve even been honest at times! I worked with you all to fix your insecurities and what have you. You’ve all graciously taken time to tell me these pointless words of affirmation or whatever the hell you want to call them, so tell me, why am I not fucking better, Leo?” Donnie asked dramatically, sarcasm taking over his tone.

“Because you’re not fucking trying!” Leo yelled, exasperated. “You don’t care! All you do is hide yourself behind a wall of pride because you don’t care! You don’t take anything we say seriously, brushing it off so you can maintain your egotistical appearance!”

“Leo-” Raph tried to cut in, now aware of Mikey’s trembling state.

Leo only pushed further, "Recovery isn’t supposed to be an immediate thing, your problems aren’t just going to magically disappear, especially since you won't talk to us! All we’ve asked of you is to reach out for help, to communicate, to do something!” He heaved an aggressive breath, “What, on this god-forsaken Earth, makes you think that ignoring all of your problems is going to fix things? Do you truly think we care so little about you that we’ll just let this terrible behavior of yours go unnoticed? That’s not happening, you’re being illogical! You’re not thinking!”

Donnie was silent for a moment, the last few words sinking into his mind. “You’re not some sort of emotional savior, Leo, you can’t tell me what I’m going through-” He spoke quietly but equally as harshly as before.

“I’m not trying to be a savior, Donnie! I’m trying to avoid watching my brother suffer the same, terrible fate I did!”

“You don’t know what I’m feeling, Leo!”

“No, I don't! Because you won't fucking tell us!” The exchange reminded him of yesterday's argument. Donnie was losing his ground, to some degree, unable to find more reasons to fight. Leo quickly looked away for a moment, gathering the words in the best way he could. He didn’t like the direction this was going, the harsh and unruly way he was talking to his brother, but the words kept coming, no matter what he did. “But I do know what happens when the feeling of being useless gets too loud! When you’re stuck, feeling like you have no reason to be worth anything, when you feel empty and like a husk of yourself! Where every mistake is at the forefront of your mind, where nothing ever feels good enough. I threw myself into death’s arms, for fucks sake! I will not watch you do the same thing! You are in pain, I know that you are because I can see it, Dee. I know there's a mental war that comes with that, so please, let us help you!”

There was a terrifying silence that followed his words. The empty look behind Donnie’s eyes made it impossible to dictate what he was thinking. Was he hearing Leo? Did he care? How badly was he fighting himself right now?

“I am not a reflection of you, Leo.” He said coldly, his voice painfully quiet. “You cannot fix what is not there.”

“Now, guys-” Raph tried to butt in again.

But Donnie wouldn’t let him. “If you had all left me alone, like I requested, we all would have been perfectly fine.” He looked directly at his twin for the following words, “I am not a vessel for your regrets. I don't need you all treating me like I can’t take care of myself. I know my body and my mind far better than any of you ever will.”

“This,” Leo waved his hands in Donnie’s direction, “is taking care of yourself? You’ve got to be kidding me, Dee, you’ve never been in a worse condition! You look like you’ve dragged yourself through hell, you aren’t sleeping, you aren’t eating, what more do you want me to say?”

“I don’t want you to say anything!” Donnie raised his voice again. “That's the whole point! I never wanted you to say anything! I wanted you to leave me alone, to stop feeding into your imagination, to stop seeing my existence as a problem!” The sudden shift in Donnie’s facial expression revealed that he didn’t mean to say that last part. That line meant more to him than he was leading on. But within a second, he turned to stone once more. 

“-as a problem?” Leo sputtered, “Donnie, what-”

“For the last time, leave me alone.” With that, Donnie stormed off from the table, leaving the other three brothers in shocked silence.

Leo stood for another second before he collapsed into his seat. Tears welled up in his eyes, and he dropped his forehead onto the old wood. He released a frustrated cry before grabbing the back of his neck to feel out the tension. “Why do I keep making everything worse!” He groaned.

“Yeah, that was… that was rough.” Raph finally spoke. Mikey was at his side, staring at the floor. The youngest turtle had always been weak to yelling. Leo should have known that. He shouldn’t have started another fight. What made him think that would be a smart idea? Donnie wasn’t thinking? Well, damn, neither was he.

Leo tilted his head towards his brothers. “I’m sorry, Mikey, I messed up.” He meant it. He really did mess up. He said things he didn’t mean to; his intended message was destroyed by how poorly he portrayed it. He acted recklessly, and now, something in his heart had snapped. He was missing something, missing a part of himself. 

Mikey looked up from the ground and took a shaky breath. “You’re not solely responsible…” He muttered. Raph wrapped an arm around the box turtle and rubbed his shoulder. “But hey! At least I learned some things.” He had an oddly optimistic tone. Leo pinched his brows in confusion. “I’m trying not to take any of his words too personally. I know what he’s doing.”

“What do you mean?” Raph inquired.

“He’s trying to force us away from him because he’s afraid of being seen. So he’s aiming to upset us so that we ignore him or stop caring. Every time getting help was mentioned, he looked terrified. He doesn’t want help because he hasn’t admitted to himself that he needs it. He’s scared of us seeing him in pain, for whatever reason, I don’t know.” Dr. Feelings has a well-deserved title, but Leo was still confused.

“How did you see that? He didn’t look all that scared to me.”

“Well, you were a little too busy yelling at him to recognize it, I’m sure.”

Leo’s face fell flat. “I just don’t understand why he’s doing this.” He grumbled, turning his face back into the table.

“Five stages of grief, kind of thing.” Mikey shrugged. “He’s gone through denial, I can imagine, back whenever this first started. Bargaining, you’re guess is as good as mine if he’s gone through that. He’s had depression. Now, he’s angry.”

“You don’t seem upset that he lied to you.” Leo posed the statement as a question.

“I kind of thought he would be lying. I was hoping he wasn’t, but also hoping that if I showed him that I would accept whatever he told me, maybe that would push him closer to the truth.” His voice trailed off. “I guess not, though.”

I am not a vessel for your regrets.

Stop seeing my existence as a problem.

You cannot fix what is not there.

The lines repeated in Leo’s mind as he tried to pry apart every secret meaning they could have, like he needed to pull out the strands of his twin that had been lost, to form some sort of truth that he wasn’t all gone. There had to have been a plea for help somewhere in his words. Donnie wasn’t like this; he wasn’t ever this aggressive or scary. He was never this lost. 

“He’s going to hate me.” He muttered through a breaking voice, the reality of his fears hitting him like a tidal wave. “I’ve fucked up… so bad. I don’t think I can fix it this time.” 

“Leo,” Raph spoke softly, observing the sensitive moment. “He doesn’t hate you.”

Leo sat up, tears falling down his face. “Did you see the way he looked at me? He looked like he’d rather fight the Kraang all over again than stomach the sight of me, Raph.” His two brothers looked at him with sympathy. “He’s gone. He hates me, I know it. Why did I do this?” He cried. “Why did I have to be so terrible?”

“Leo, please,” Mikey said and rested a hand on the slider's shoulder. “You’re going to spiral, and that’s not going to achieve anything. Let's just take a moment and pull away from this. We can talk through it later, okay?”

Leo sniffed and eventually nodded. “Okay… maybe a turtle pile tonight?”

Raph smiled. “Turtle pile tonight.”

Leo didn’t have to say it, that he wished Donnie would join them. Mikey and Raph knew full well that the twins were feeling their separation in intense, different ways. Leo needed to be close again. They didn’t know what Donnie needed, but they were all determined to find out. They were not going to watch Donnie let himself sail away; those incessant waves would not take their brother, no matter how little Donnie was fighting them.

Chapter Text

Donnie had finally done it. He’d destroyed everything. 

He had destroyed his relationships.

He had destroyed his life.

He had destroyed himself. 

Shouldn’t he, at least, be a little happy? He achieved his goal. He had aimed to remove himself from everyone around him, since the pain that raged in his body seemed to think that was the best course of action. Donnie had been so set on his plan, so sure it would alleviate more of his pain and stress.

So why…

Why did it feel like he was suffocating?

He stormed out of the “therapy” session, stone-faced and stoic, but the second his room doors closed behind him, his body froze. He began to shake with more vigor than his muscles could withstand. It felt like he couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t think. He couldn’t stay standing, and the cold floor didn’t help much with his trembling body. 

It felt like he was being crushed. 

Donnie stayed there, shaking on the cold floor, until the fleeting feeling of self seemed to dissipate. His trembling stopped, but in a way, so did his heart. He was numb. In a similar way that he had before, but this time, it felt more encompassing. Greater in threat, stronger in resilience. He couldn’t tell if it felt more avoidable than the last, but it didn’t matter much. He probably wouldn't have avoided it anyway, given his self-destructive nature. 

Excruciating pain washed over his body like a tsunami, as if it was waiting for the perfect time to strike, when he was at his lowest. When no one would be there to drag him up from the drowning waters. When the current could easily rip him away from anything that could protect him. But there was nothing and no one to save him. Of course, that’s just what he had thought. There wasn’t much truth behind it, but crumbling mentalities can always lead to a faltering image of life. 

He stayed locked away for the rest of the day, hardly a thought crossing his mind while he sat, his mistakes festering in his heart. He ignored the call of his brothers that night as Mikey invited him to a turtle pile. Just an obligation of an invite, surely. They wouldn’t actually want Donnie there. He had been– was— a terrible brother. Probably a Splinter-mandated invite. Something like that. He didn’t care that much. He didn’t have the right to care this far into his path. He chose this: to be shut away. Now, he just had to reap the consequences. 

…

The logical couldn’t breathe. 

How was he alive? He’d thought, for sure, that the initial fall would have crushed him to death, but after who knows how long, he’s awake. Not comfortably, that’s for sure.

Jagged, cold, rough bricks pressed into his back, debris falling over his arms and legs, and slipping off his head. Though he couldn't see, the fallen wall shrouding his vision almost entirely, he could feel the thick dust that contaminated the air. His mouth tasted like dirt, and his eyes stung as the dust seeped its way between his lids.

As soon as enough consciousness returned to the logical, he hacked up a lung-ripping cough, the pain reverberating its way through him. He groaned into the floor, feeling the burn and sting of his surroundings. 

Why couldn’t the wall have killed him? Had he really been so terrible that fate decided to make him suffer more? He gets it, okay? He understands. He knows he had been terrible; he knows he was the cause of this horrendous situation. He knows,

He knows.

He knows.

So why couldn’t he escape? Why couldn’t he let it all take him away? Why did he have to suffer knowing that his counterpart probably wasn’t fortunate enough to make it out of the fall alive? He knew he had his qualms with the illogical, but the two came hand-in-hand, didn’t they? He couldn’t have one without the other; that’s not how it worked. How was he supposed to go forward?

Painstakingly, the expansive field of the mind was now covered in not only ravaging shadows that aimed to destroy everything worth anything, but also tons upon tons of bricks that he wouldn’t be able to remove. Not alone, at least. 

He was alone. 

The logical didn’t want to be alone. 

Why had he done this to himself? Was it all worth it? He doesn’t think so. Why couldn’t he have just worked with the illogical? Why couldn’t they have been better together? They were supposed to be a team, where their strengths lay where the other had weaknesses. They were meant to rely on one another, not tear each other down verbally, until one gave away his life to poison.

The logical didn’t realize he was crying until he heaved in a shaky breath, only to result in a mouthful of dust. He didn’t even know he could cry. He knew the illogical could, but he thought he was free from that burden. Maybe it had always been that way. Maybe he always could have, he just didn’t let himself. How silly. He was the logical; he wasn’t supposed to be emotional. That was one of his weaknesses, after all. That was something the illogical had.

Yet, instead of grasping that strength with warmth and acceptance, he shunned and ridiculed his counterpart until they ended up where they were now: aching, suffocating, dying. 

The logical didn’t want to spend the rest of his broken life in the wasteland that awaited him. If he ever made it out from underneath the barricade of bricks that pinned him to the ground, he’d be met with his own personal hell. Would he be any stronger against the shadows, or would they take him, too? Would he suffer the same fate he watched the illogical go through? Would the vines wrap around him, cutting into him like some cryptic feeder, and bring him so far down that he would rather let the foliage kill him slowly than muster the strength to fight?

The light on the other side had dimmed so long ago that he was sure there was nothing left to heal. There was no army to fight the shadows, no light to bring him back to life. There was nothing to fight for, nothing to be, nothing to expect except misery, and that’s certainly nothing to look forward to. 

With all of those dark thoughts swarming his mind, imagine his surprise when something warm breaks through a tiny crevasse in the bricks and hits his arm.

It burns, but in a good way. Not the way the sharp vines did. It burned in a warm, welcoming way.

Fighting against everything in his body, the logical peeled his eyes open to see what graced his arms. Silence followed him when he saw. A thin, bright line of light. Its orange and yellow hue radiated from its minuscule path, shining onto a few bricks. It was weak, but it was there.

Maybe it’s not weak, the logical thought, shocked at the optimism in his voice. Maybe I’m just stuck too far underneath these bricks. 

If he could get out, maybe, just maybe, he could find more.

Maybe not all hope was lost? He just had to figure out how the hell to get up. He needed help, and badly. 

__________________

Donnie hadn’t joined them for the turtle pile last night, which was expected, but it didn’t dispel the hurt any. Mikey, carefully observing each of his brothers, was sure that they needed that comfort again. So he mentioned another turtle pile for the evening. There were still a few hours until then, so this was his goal: get Donnie. Simple, really. He wasn’t going to let his older brother make things worse for himself. 

They had all felt it. That weird, fizzling out feeling. It wasn’t a snap; they all knew what that felt like. When Leo had been shut into the Prison Dimension, they all felt it. A separation of heart and soul from their brother. Ninpo had a weird way of connecting them. So when Donnie left therapy, and a few minutes later, a painful feeling ran through their chests that felt like bees making their home in their hearts, the distress was pretty evident. 

Leo was clearly suffering the worst of it. His face hadn’t been anything more than painful since it happened. He didn’t want to admit it, but Mikey knew how much stronger the twins’ connections were to one another. For Raph and him, the buzzing, fading pain was wildly uncomfortable with more sting than they’d like, but it was bearable. Leo looked like he was in far more pain. Granted, he was hauling around a ton more guilt than the other two were, so maybe that was part of it. 

“How are you feeling?” Mikey asked his blue brother after seeing him sit on the living room couch and stare at nothing for an hour. 

Leo slowly blinked. His expression was empty. “I’m upset.” He stated simply. Mikey knew that tone. Leo was upset at himself, as per usual, not Donnie or anyone else. 

“Do you want a hug?” He asked. 

Leo shook his head. Wow. It’s not often that Leo turns down a hug from Mikey. The only one that ever does that is Donnie. “Okay,” Mikey offered a smile, “We’re gonna have another turtle pile tonight, by the way.”

Leo sniffed, his gaze stuck on the floor. “It’s not a proper one without Donnie.” His voice was almost too quiet to hear. 

“I know,” Mikey said sympathetically, “which is why I’m going to get him for it. He can’t hide from us forever.”

The slider frowned. “You can’t force him, Mike. That’s not nice.”

Mikey shrugged. “I won’t have to.”

Leo raised a brow. 

His little brother kneels by the couch, looking up at him. “Leo, do you want Donnie there?” It’s silent for a moment, but soon enough, Leo nods his head, indisputably. “Then that’s all we need.”

Leo doesn’t seem convinced, but Mikey has more than enough faith in himself. 

The twins have more in common than either would ever admit. He’d bet money on the idea that they were suffering very similar thoughts at that moment. Leo was convinced Donnie hated him after he lashed out. Donnie was probably mad at himself for lashing out, or at least something similar. Donnie would be feeling the loss one way or another; the path by which it was taken was irrelevant. At least for now.

Once dinner rolled around, Mikey wasn’t very proud of his progress. He hadn’t been able to make contact with Donnie since he was still shutting himself off and wasn’t eating any of the food he was leaving at his door. This called for a change in plans. 

Mikey was trying to let Donnie have his space, but that had shown, time and time again, that it wasn’t going to work. So, with dinner in hand and a goal in his heart, Mikey marched his way right to Donnie’s room. 

They had heard him moving around in there throughout the day, so at least he wasn’t in another immobilizing depressive episode. That alone was a win, so Mikey wasn’t going to complain.

“Donnieeee,” he sing-songed outside his door. He knocked and waited for the few seconds it took before the door opened on its own. Another win, Donnie hadn’t locked his doors! “Good evening, brother dearest.”

Donnie didn't answer. He was sitting at his desk, his single monitor alight with… with nothing? Weird. 

“I saw you haven’t eaten lunch, so I thought I’d bring you dinner personally.” He didn’t try to hide the minor threat that was hidden in his voice. Donnie was going to eat something; Mikey would make sure of it. And make sure of it. He handed Donnie the plate, having to stand there rather goofily while Donnie tried to ignore him. Eventually, his older brother turned in his chair and took the plate, an empty look on his face. See? The twins were really twinning.

Pleased with this, Mikey sat on Donnie’s bed for a few minutes. He didn’t need to say anything if Donnie didn’t want to, but that doesn’t mean he wasn’t going to express that he was there, in every way that mattered. Donnie wasn’t going to get left behind, no matter what that big brain of his was telling him. So, he sat there, staring at Donnie until he crumbled under the pressure and shoved a few bites of food in his mouth. Mikey smiled proudly. Sometimes, peer pressure works, and sometimes, that’s a good thing! Don’t tell Barry he said that, since he works at a school, he can’t be promoting such ideals.

He watched his brother for a while longer before deciding that he had eaten enough to satisfy his spying, hoping he would eat some more on his own. “Oh, Donnie!” He adorned a light voice, one he hoped would be comforting. “We’re having another turtle pile tonight. It would be nice if you joined.”

Donnie stopped typing. He had finally pulled something up on his computer, though the coding was not something Mikey would ever understand. Despite his halting, he didn’t say anything. So Mikey waited. He was not giving up without a fight, here.

When the purple turtle realized Mikey wasn’t going to leave, he sighed, his hands gently falling from the keyboard. He turned away a few degrees. “I don’t think Leo wants me there.” He muttered, voice barely above a whisper. 

“That’s not true.” Mikey stated softly, “Leo asked for you to be there.” Okay, maybe Leo hadn’t asked, per se, but the sentiment was there.

“Yeah, right,” He scoffed, his voice full of forced malice.

Damn, this kid really loves his self-sabotage. Mikey thought. Another way the twins were alike. 

“Why would he want me there?” Donnie continued. 

Mikey didn’t hesitate. “Because he cares about you, Donnie.” He let the words sink in, neither one deciding to speak next. “We all do.” He adds after a minute. 

Donnie pressed his lips together, an odd shadow falling across his face.

Well, Mikey's done his job. He took his leave, watching Donnie as he walked out the door. He didn’t return to his computer; instead, he looked at the floor and messed with his hands. His heart was fighting, but so was his mind. That’s all Mikey could do, and hopefully, it would be enough.

_______________

The warm light was the most encouraging thing the logical could have been given. It was growing warmer, but he was still so far under the bricks that his fight was getting weaker. His arms were soar, his legs felt numb, his neck hurt, everything was feeling terrible. But he needed to be free. But every brick he moved was replaced with another one that fell into its spot. Layer upon layer fell atop him. Was he ever going to make it out? The logical had always been more of a secluded worker, preferring to go solo in most things, but this was tearing down that idea with every pained movement. He couldn’t do this alone, but that’s where he was stuck. Alone. So he had to be strong. He had to act as though he could do it by himself; he had to be stronger. He had to try, damnit, because what would he be losing if he didn’t?

It had been two hours since Mikey had come with dinner. Donnie had eaten a shocking amount of it, fighting against the nausea and sharp pain in his throat. He could feel himself getting weaker. 

He didn’t know why he was standing at his door, ready to leave and face his brothers. He shouldn’t have cared what they wanted. He was the one who destroyed everything, so shouldn’t he stay true to what he wanted? But there was this tiny, surprisingly strong part of him that was fighting. For what, he wasn’t quite sure, but boy was it fighting. Despite every ache in his body, he had stood from his desk, and now he was waiting for enough courage to leave his room.

Donnie is still impatient at times, so at a point, he just goes for it. He has a blanket over his shoulders, some thin layer of protection, and his steps are slow, but he’s going. 

He felt like a child when he stopped at the entrance to the living room, standing there with his eyes at his feet, too ashamed to see the look on his brother's faces. He could hear them stop moving, but he didn’t know what to say or do; his mind was still empty and fading.

“Come get comfy, Dee.” Raph welcomed, his voice tentative but hopeful. 

Donnie lets his gaze move up, seeing how his eldest brother is looking over the back of the couch. Raph was sitting on the ground, his shell against the cushions, while he fiddled with the remote to get a movie or some background noise ready. Leo is already pressed against his side, playing some video games in silence. Mikey is doing who-knows-what in another room, probably making some treats of some sort. Donnie makes his way to Raph, keeping to the opposite side that Leo was on.

He still wants distance, since he’s still mad at Leo. Well, he should be, at least. He doesn't feel much of anything, to be honest. So that supposed “anger” is a little weak and subdued, but he thinks he should feel something, and the only thing that he can force himself to feel is anger. Because if he’s not mad, he’s going to feel something a lot worse. Sad, devastated, agony. Something like that. 

He wraps his blanket tight around his shoulders and falls into Raph’s side, unable to protest the protective arm that wraps around him. He curls in towards his eldest brother, the compact warmth something he hadn’t realized would be so pain-relieving. 

If only he’d opened his mind to his brothers earlier, maybe he could have gotten the help he needed. 

What a terrible time to have that revelation. 

It wasn’t long before Mikey joined them. Raph had pulled up an older Jupiter Jim movie they were all fond of and had the volume set low. Donnie did the quiet favor of dimming the lights before Mikey crawled into the pile, placed right in Raph’s lap. 

Raph, taking all of his brothers with him, shuffled down to the floor a bit more so he wasn’t as upright. The twins fell further down, snuggling into the familiar comfort.

Three of them carried on light conversation as exhaustion crept its way into their eyes, but Donnie remained quiet. His thoughts still weren’t all that kind, so if he had any at all, they weren’t pleasant. They kept reminding him of the life he had destroyed and everything he had done wrong. Though his surrounding brothers unknowingly fended off the horrendous thoughts about how he had ruined his connection with his brothers. At least there was that, right? At least they didn’t hate him that much.

Actually, he still couldn’t quite understand why they didn’t hate him. Why did they still want to be with him? Not a word was said about his condition, no one tried to force him to open up; it’s like they were just happy to have him there, which was weird. He didn’t deserve that, after everything he’d done. 

Eventually, their chatter died down, and the movie came to an end. Mikey had already fallen asleep, his gentle breathing a soft reminder of what Donnie did have.

Donnie lay there in silence for a long time as Raph and Leo both passed out at their own times, but he couldn’t. No matter how badly he wanted to, he couldn’t sleep.

Why? Because even though Raph’s arm had pressed into his upper body and relieved a lot of the pain that tore through his back and arms, his legs decided that Donnie truly didn’t deserve peace. His leg was bent at just the wrong angle that it sent shockwaves of agony up his muscles in a small enough intensity that it was not only painful, but agonizingly distracting and unignorable, in just the slightest amount. Had it been any weaker, he could have ignored it. Had it been any stronger, he’d have been used to it. But this was oddly unique, like it was designed to ruin the one time he tried to be better.

Donnie had thought he hadn’t completely lost his brothers. He had thought he still had some comfort in his life. He had thought that he could still have these silly turtle piles he’d never admit he loved so much, but of course, he was wrong. Because even if his mind was trying to heal, that little fighter somewhere in there, his body would be right there to stop him. Right there to tear down any progress he made, right there to remind him that he would never be the same again. There is no point in trying to recover when he physically never would. That’s what it felt like, the pain was telling him.

He tried to fight off the thoughts, but as the pain grew more apparent, so did the words.

He was so tired. 

Donnie just wanted some peace, and he had found it. But in his life, peace never stuck around. It pained him to admit how badly he wanted to be with his brothers, to admit he was lost, to seek help. He needed freedom from himself. 

He could feel his heart beating faster as he spiraled. Despite his pleas for help, he couldn't bring himself to be seen like this. 

He didn't want to move because he'd be risking waking Mikey, and he couldn't handle that dose of guilt. But the pain and the thoughts that came with it were becoming far too much to handle.

So, as gingerly as he could, he wiggled his leg free from underneath Mikey's arms and slid away from Raph. His leg trembled once the weight was returned to it, but he ignored it as he walked away. Making his way to the lair exit, he clambered his way into the old sewers from the exit of the abandoned subway. He needed distance because he could feel himself breaking. 

___________________

Leo had been trying to sleep for a while, but insomnia constantly had other plans. He was beyond comfortable, at least, the presence of his twin finally calming his raging thoughts. Even if Donnie stayed away, unlike usual, it was better than his absence.

His thoughts drifted from critical things to useless things as the hours passed, Mikey and Raph having long since fallen asleep. He thought Donnie had fallen asleep as well until he heard a small, shaky breath that was followed by movement. Donnie managed to break off from the pile, but when Leo peeked a glance, he could tell it wasn't easy. Though it was dark, Leo could see the unhidden pain that riddled his expression.

He wanted to let Donnie leave, to let him have his space, but when he heard his twin leave the lair, he decided something was up. 

Leo pushed himself gently away from Raph, careful not to wake the sleeping giant, and tiptoed his way through his home. Physical Therapy was really paying off; the pain from his knees was nearly gone, and his strength was returning rather quickly. 

Creeping his way through the subway, he managed to find his twin just outside the exit. He was staring at the opposite wall, slightly trembling and scarily quiet. His mouth was quivering, which was a rare sight. 

“Donnie?” Leo asked, heartbroken when his twin turned and he saw the glassy sheen over Donnie's eyes. As if Leo’s voice was the final break in a massive dam, Donnie started to falter, his mouth downturned as tears began to flow. Leo rushed forward and encased him in a tight hug, wrapping his arms around his shoulders as they began to shake. Sobs broke from Donnie’s throat, and when his knees buckled from under him, Leo carefully followed him to the ground.

“I’m sorry,” Leo heard over Donnie’s blubbering. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he repeated. 

Leo was stunned. Terrified but all too sure.

It was clearer than anything. The wall Leo had seen had fallen, crushing Donnie with little to no hope of ever recovering. This is a kind of break in one’s soul that feels impossible to bounce back from. Leo had experienced it a few weeks before the invasion, but he regrettably never sought the help he needed, causing him to welcome death in that damned Prison Dimension.

He prays to everything good in the world that Donnie won’t have to go through that. Leo was going to drag him from under the suffocation of his mind until he realized how much he was loved, that no matter what, Donnie was not a burden or a bother.

So, as scared as he was, Leo brought Donnie closer to him, letting him cry as much as he needed to while whispering quiet shhh’s to comfort him. “It’s okay. Everything is going to be okay.” He added. 

Donnie continued to cry more than Leo had ever seen, his wails revealing just how much pain he was truly in. How could it have been this bad? For Donnie to break like this, to be this vulnerable, was never something Leo, or any of the Hamatos, had ever expected to see. Donnie was hurt on a far deeper level than they knew. Leo could only hope they’d learn, but he wasn’t going to force it to happen. This was progress, in the worst way possible, but it was progress.

When Donnie’s cries slowed and faded out, Leo rubbed his back a few times before speaking again. “I’m not upset at you, Dee. You’re forgiven, everything is in the past.” He pulls away softly to get a look at his twin. Red-eyed and weak, he looks back. “More importantly, I’m sorry. I’ve been terrible to you, and I am so sorry.” He takes a deep breath. “Please, let me help you.” He asks with a protective tone. “Anatawa hitorijanai.”

After a moment, Donnie closes his eyes and… nods. He nods. “You were right… about so much.” He sniffs. His voice is hoarse and distant but filled with so much emotion it’s a little difficult to hear. “I need help, Leo, before I make it worse again. I should have listened, but…” A few more tears sprang into his eyes, “I was scared. And I’m sorry.”

Leo pulled him close again. “You don’t need to apologize. I know, Dee, I know. But it’s okay, we’re gonna sort this out. I promise.” He dramatizes his breathing in hopes of Donnie regulating his own. It seems to work. “It’s not going to be easy, but we’re here for you. No matter what, okay?”

“Okay,” Donnie says after a moment. “Can we go back now? I’m really tired.” He admits with a small, weak chuckle. 

Leo smiled. “Yeah. Yeah, of course. Let’s get back to the turtle pile.” Leo lifts Donnie off the ground, an arm around him for support as they walk back through the subway and into their home.

The two quietly made their way into the living room, where their brothers were sleeping soundly. Instead of separating, Leo helped Donnie lie down, assuring that he was comfortable, and rested down next to him. On instinct, a protective arm falls over Donnie’s plastron, and he doesn’t argue. “I love you, Donnie,” Leo mumbled as his brain began to shut down for the night.

“I love you, too, Leo,” Donnie says, his mind hardly awake enough to form words. 

It doesn’t take long before the two fall asleep, the emotional exhaustion weighing on them both.

The hard part was over. He hoped, at least. Leo knew how difficult the coming days would be. Accepting help and accepting this kind of change were two different challenges. But Donnie wasn’t alone. He wouldn’t have to face his pain and struggle by himself anymore. Leo, Mikey, and Raph would do everything in their power to help. Sure, they’ll appear pushy at times, but it’s all in good heart. They’ll all learn to adapt. Donnie will get better.

Now, testing was in order. But not immediately. Leo just wanted to have his brother back, have some time to relax, to live like they hadn’t been at war with one another for weeks.

Leo felt at peace. The others would, too, once they woke the next morning. Their family would be whole again. The stray, breaking piece finally back where he needed to be. 

Chapter Text

The logical's hands were shaking, bloodied and bruised, and aching. But it was all worth it when the last brick fell from above him and his vision was suddenly shining. All of the pain that raged through his muscles was worth it. Because he was alive. He made it. He dragged himself out from the deathly pile of bricks.

Even though his throat and lungs were lined with dust, even if the shadows had leaked into the cracks and fought against his every movement, even though he constantly felt like he was stuck, he had made it. The field was freeing, the clear air, the blinding, warm light were a reminder of what he had worked for. Survival. Another chance.

He could breathe again. He couldn’t stop the smile that spread across his face, but he didn’t feel the need to. He worked hard for that freedom. It was the door to a lot more work, but at least he hadn’t given up. The logical had done his job. He had fought, he had reasoned, he had worked. Now, there was another part of him he had to save.

Gazing out into the expansive battlefield of bricks, the logical watched the shadows recede deep into the crevices of the stone. The light he had thought died was fighting against the pain, slowly carving out a path for improvement. The shadows weren’t gone, not yet; that would take a lot more time. But it hid where it could, wisps of its harmful claims sprouting in the air in an attempt to grasp something to kill. The shadows would not last forever. There was nothing for them to feed off of. They couldn’t take from the logical. He wouldn’t let them. 

As he scanned his surroundings, he caught a glimpse of a familiar face, sitting atop the disaster and staring out into the distant lights. 

I’m surprised you made it out. The logical said, hoping his hoarse voice would carry through the winds.

The builder turned over his shoulder, with tired eyes, he nodded. Yeah, well, I was up there when it fell, so… got lucky, I guess.

Survival takes more than luck, I can assure you that. The logical smiled. It took me a lot of work to get up here.

Yeah, well, I don’t think we were all that fortunate. The builder turned his gaze back to the sky. I haven’t heard any movement from out there, behind us.

That’s okay. I’ll find him.

There's an uncomfortable silence between them. It’s tense, rough, and painful. A lot had happened between the two, even if their interactions were limited. 

I’m sorry, by the way. The builder finally spoke. For the wall. For everything, I guess.

The logical climbed over the uneven bricks and found his way next to the stranger. They never got the opportunity to understand one another. The logical doubted they ever would, but if he decided to stick around, maybe he could build some more beneficial things. It’s alright. You were just following orders. Things will get better, eventually.

Yeah, maybe.

That was the last thing he said to the logical. There wasn’t anything else that needed to be said, and that was perfectly fine with him. After he stood next to the builder for a few minutes, he turned around and began his trek to the battlefield. He would find his counterpart, no matter what it took. He’d fight off the shadows and he’d clear the bricks, no matter how much they tore apart his skin. Everything would be worth it in the end if the two could live in unison, if they could fix everything that had happened. With the light backing him up, he began his searching.

_____________________

Donnie was trying to gauge how he was feeling, but every time he tried to formulate words, they escaped him. He hated how bad he was at emotions. Being the least expressive had its moments of aid, but when he was trying to prevent himself from another breakdown, the lack of understanding made everything so much worse.

The fatal pressure in his heart had faded, but it was replaced with something else. His fear had never been so forefront in his mind, never so apparent. What was he afraid of? There was a lot. A lot of things he hadn't admitted to himself, a lot of fears he couldn't name. 

There was at least one thing he didn’t like that he could identify. He didn’t like that his whole family was sitting quietly in the room with him, while Draxum was shuffling through some papers. He understands why they’re all there. All of them, including Donnie, know that if he learned his problems alone, he wouldn’t share them. Not without repeating another loop of suffering. But sitting there, in the silent med bay with the whirring sound of machinery filling the room, was the peak of anxiety. It reminded him of the building fear in his heart that he was desperately trying to ignore.

His leg was bouncing, which only increased the pain that shot through his muscles. His breath was slightly broken, which made him sort of dizzy. They hadn't even started any tests or analysis, and he was already losing it. There was so much pressure and attention on him and him alone.

Donnie never liked having attention on him. Never this much. Sure, he liked it every once in a while when it came from his family, but never so focused, never so encapsulating, never so pointed.

Was it wrong for him to wish things had gone back to the way they were a few days ago? He’d be in pain, more emotional and physical than he could take, but at least he’d know what was going on. At least he’d have some semblance of control. 

As if his anxiety was bleeding out from his body, grabbing at the air and turning it to static, reaching out for help, an arm rested over Donnie’s shoulders, and he was suddenly reminded of who was next to him. Leo doesn’t make any note of Donnie’s behavior, just continues to stare out at Barry while he gets ready and offers quiet comfort. It’s a distant, light touch. An invitation if Donnie needs to be grounded, but easy to escape if touch is going to make things worse.

Donnie’s shoulders shake as he forces himself to take a deep breath. He leaned into his brother a little as he exhaled, closing his eyes as he calmed his pounding heart.

“Alright,” Draxum clears his throat, finally prepared. “We’re going to start with a few ideas and work our way out if they don’t get us answers.”

“What are you testing for, exactly?” Leo asked, his medical habits kicking into high gear. “Anything I can do to help?” He looked at Donnie slowly, “If that’s okay.” Donnie nodded.

Draxum taped on a clipboard. “Same things we’ve discussed before. Arthritis, Fibro, and… well, I guess we can inquire about CFS.”

See, there's another thing Donnie hates almost as much as he hates emotions and attention. What is it? It’s feeling stupid. It's being in a situation where he doesn’t understand anything. It’s different when he doesn’t understand emotions, because that’s just not his strong suit. There’s nothing factual about emotions, and there’s nothing he can do about that. But when he doesn’t understand something factual, when words are thrown around that he can’t understand to any capacity, he hates it. It isn’t as bad as when he forgot all of his basic Organic Chemistry knowledge, but it’s damn near close.

He had never really learned medical terms. That was Leo’s thing, and Donnie would be damned if he tried to understand Leo’s specialty.

He knew what Arthritis was, at least at a foundational level, but fibro? What the hell was that? What was CFS? He couldn’t discern what those meant. Fibro just meant fibers, but that wasn’t going to tell him anything. “Fibro” was supposed to be attached to something. Why would Draxum just shorten something like that? CFS was an acronym, so all he had were stupid guesses to try and understand what he was saying. 

Maybe he was being dramatic, sure. But he was terrified. Being terrified and feeling stupid were terrible things to mix! This was his life they were discussing, and if he couldn’t understand it, then he was going to be lost.