Chapter Text
At the end of the day, Donnie understood that he had no one to blame but himself.
When he stood in front of the mirror (and he very rarely did), every scar on his back was because of him.
He was the one who had foolishly crawled under Raph when they were children.
He was the one who had turned his back on the squid yokai.
He was the one who took control of the Krang ship, and ignored the injuries until they were too much to bear.
He was the one who wasn’t quick enough to avoid the blow from Shredder, Big Mama, Draxum, Meat Sweats, –the list goes on and on.
Every scar on his back was a reminder of a time in his life that he failed. And he was sick of looking at them.
After the stint with the Krang, his shell was severely infected. The wounds on his back were in need of constant medication and bandages, just to keep the infection under control. As soon as Donnie was able to walk, Leo had declared a strict “No Battleshells Policy” for the entire lair. Mikey even made a sign, a drawing of Donnie’s battleshell, with a giant red “X” painted over it. The weight of the battleshell would make things worse, and would prevent him from monitoring the soft shell’s healing.
When Donnie complained that the policy only had consequences for him, Leo changed it to a “No Battleshells and No Hawaiian Pizza” policy. Raph and Mikey had nodded sagely at the change, declaring it to be only fair. A picture of a pizza was added to the sign the following day, and Donnie knew the battle was lost. The rest of his family was almost as stubborn as he was.
“How much longer?” Donnie’s muffled voice asked. He was facedown in a beanbag, with Leo kneeling on the ground beside him. Raph and Mikey were sprawled over the other couch, absentmindedly flicking through the channels.
Leo sighed. It had been a little over a month since Donnie had collapsed in the middle of the night. The echoes of Mikey’s screams that night had played in his head on a loop since then. He dreamed more of the moment when he took off the battleshell from his fallen brother then he did of the Krang invasion. Not a day went by when he didn’t have flashbacks of Donnie seizing in his arms, of a silently crying Raph picking Donnie up, looking much, much older than he actually was.
“Leo?” Donnie asked again. He tilted his head to look at his twin. “I asked how much longer.”
Leo shook his head, pointlessly trying to shake away memories. Four of the of the wounds were already dressed. One more to get through. He peeled the bandage off, noting with satisfaction that all that came up was dried blood. There was no puss, no infection, nothing out of the ordinary.
“It looks good, man. It really does.” Leo placed a new bandage, not even bothering to add gauze. “A week more? Maybe?”
Donnie immediately placed his head back down in the beanbag, groaning.
“That’s great, Donnie!” Raph piped up. The whites of one of his eyes had been permanently dyed pink, courtesy of the Krang, but it shined nonetheless. “You’ll be back in fighting shape soon enough!”
Donnie waited until Leo had finished taping the bandage down before he rolled over. He shot Leo a small smile, which Leo knew to take as thanks.
“It’ll be weird seeing you with a battleshell again,” Mikey yawned, stretching his hands above his hands. Thin white scars danced up his arms, reminding Donnie of shattered glass. “I’ve gotten used to you like this.”
“I haven’t,” Donnie spat. Three pairs of eyes were on him before he could even attempt to cover that admission up with a joke.
“What do you mean, Donnie?” Raph asked gently, his anxious hands settling in his lap. He had his “Let’s Talk” voice, which Donnie had been on the receiving end of more than he cared to admit these last few weeks. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Mikey pulling on a turtleneck. Which meant Doctor Feelings was not far behind.
Donnie pushed himself up and out of the beanbag. He –
He couldn’t do this right now.
He knew they meant well. He just-
He had had enough heart-to-hearts to last him a lifetime. He had seen his brothers cry way more than he should have ever had to. He couldn’t do this again.
“Nothing, you big babies. I just mean I haven’t gotten used to seeing me without my battleshell. I used to wear it constantly.” He kept his voice nonchalant, walking over to Mikey. They didn’t need to know that he felt like half of the turtle he used to be. He used one hand to pull the turtleneck off of the box shell, holding it up high so Mikey couldn’t reach. They didn’t need to know that he was afraid of reflections, that he felt like a burden, that he was absolutely positive that his brothers would be better off without him.
Mikey immediately began complaining and jumping to reach his turtleneck, causing Raph to get up to take the sweater from Donnie.
Donnie dramatically protested, but gave up without much of a fight, laughing at Mikey’s squeal of happiness when the clothing was returned.
He turned to Leo, planning on throwing a well-timed barb to bring his twin into the chaos. But when he turned, the look on Leo’s face told him that he hadn’t been able to fool him at all.
Leo opened his mouth, more than likely to call Donnie on his bullshit, but was cut off by the lair’s alarm.
Donnie quickly dropped his eyes to his wrist-pad, pulling up reports.
“It’s Hypno.”
“He survived the Krang?” Raph asked, almost surprised.
“He must have.” Donnie tapped a few more buttons, pulling up a map. “He’s at the Statue of Liberty,” Donnie rolled his eyes. “Of course.”
“Let’s get going y’all!” Mikey yelled, already running to the tank, Raph close behind.
Donnie turned to join them, but was stopped by a hand on his shoulder.
“Leo-,” Donnie all but growled, “I’m not doing this now.”
“I’m not going to stop you,” the slider promised, and when did his brother get so calm? “Are you sure you’re ready? Without your shell?”
And there was a part of Donnie, a small, small part, that wanted to answer No, I don’t think I am, I don’t think I ever will be.
And Leo, able to read his twin like a book, asked one more question.
“You know you’ve got nothing to prove, right Donnie?”
Donnie just laughed, and it came out sounding a bit like a sob. He turned and ran toward the tank, Tech-Bō in hand. He heard Leo’s footsteps following closely behind, and he knew that this conversation wasn’t over.
Hypno was –
Hypno was definitely attacking. Why he was attacking, and what his actual plan was –that was still to be discovered.
He seemed to be just sending random bursts of mystic energy at anything that moved. Cars and storefronts alike were exploding in bursts of purple and green. And a maniacal hippo was laughing hysterically at the center of it all.
“Humans have evacuated,” Donnie called out as they pulled up to the wreckage.
“That’s good,” Leo mumbled as he looked out of the tank’s window. “Is he – is he crying?” He pointed at Hypno. “Is our evil villain crying?”
“I don’t see Warren Stone anywhere.” Mikey whispered.
“Where did you get another turtleneck??” Donnie sputtered in the background.
“This may be a case of a broken heart,” Mikey continued, ignoring his older brother and pulling up his sweater. Leo and Raph howled with laugher in the background. “There might be trouble in this here paradise.”
“Oh my god,” Donnie chuckled, and turned his eyes back to issue at hand. Raph drove the tank closer, and Donnie saw as Hypno took notice of them.
“Oh, he definitely is crying,” Raph mumbled. “Poor guy.”
“Let me handle this, boys,” Donnie drawled as they pulled to a stop. He stepped out of the tank, waving off Leo’s protests. He could handle it. He needed to handle it. If he couldn’t handle an emotional Hypno, what was even the point of him?
“Hypno!” he yelled, leaning on his Tech-Bō. “I know of at least two turtles who would be willing to talk this out with you!” He pointed back toward the tank. “One of them has even got an outfit on already!”
Hypno took a threatening step toward them, and Donnie distantly wondered if he should be concerned.
The hippo held out a hand, and Donnie felt a wave of mystic energy thunder by him. He may have been needing to prove something today, but he wasn’t an idiot. He turned around to wave the other three out of the tank, when Hypno –
Hypno closed his hand into a fist.
And the tank crumpled.
Another wave of mystic energy, and the tank sailed through the air, landing in New York’s Upper Bay.
Donnie’s feet were moving before he was fully aware of the fact. He was running faster than he ever had, completely ignoring the laughter of Hypno behind him.
His brothers –
His brothers were in that tank.
And it was sinking.
There were no portals forming in the sky, bringing his brothers to safety. He didn’t hear the hum of Raph’s Ninpo, punching his way out of the tank that was slowly sinking. He didn’t hear Mikey yelling for help at all.
They must be unconscious, his brain supplied, as he reached the edge of the bay and dived in.
The water silenced the chaos of the city. The only noise was the beating drum of his heart as he swam desperately toward the still sinking tank.
He needed to get inside.
He had lifejackets on the tank, he just needed to attach them to his brothers.
He had also built in a disassemble protocol for instances just like this. A few clicks, and the tank would fall to pieces.
I just need to – Donnie kicked his legs furiously, ignoring the burning in his lungs. The tank was falling quicker than he could swim. He wouldn’t come back up without them. He wouldn’t. Not after all this.
There was a thud, and a cloud of dirt billowed out. They were at the bottom. One last pull, one last kick, and Donnie was there. He grabbed on to the side of the tank, pulling at the door. It was stuck. A panicked scream bubbled up in his throat, which was quickly swallowed down.
He swam over to the tank’s windshield, thanking whoever was listening that it had been broken in the attack. He dove through the window headfirst, grabbing the tank dashboard to try and pull himself through.
He didn’t quite make it. The tank’s window was small, reinforced by steel bars. He was caught at the widest point of his shell, halfway into the tank. Black dots swarmed Donnie’s vision as he thrashed, unable to move further.
His hands started to droop, and his legs stopped kicking.
He wouldn’t come back up without them. He wouldn’t come back up at all.
He opened his eyes one last time, and saw –
Donnie saw his brothers. Floating in the water, completely unconscious.
In the tank’s emergency lights, Donnie saw blood trickling out of Leo’s mouth.
And this time Donnie did scream, an angry yell that only came out as bubbles.
Not them. He wouldn’t lose them. He couldn’t lose them. He grabbed the tank’s dashboard one final time, and pulled with everything he had. He felt the edges of his shell slowly bend inwards as Donnie pushed himself through the window. With a final kick, he forced his way inside, frantically swimming toward the center control panel.
His vision was almost completely gone, and the burning in his lungs was excruciating. He opened up a glass case on the panel, and slammed a red button inside. Mechanized life jackets, much like the escape pods, flew out, attaching themselves to Leo, Mikey, Raph, and himself.
He couldn’t feel his fingers anymore. He couldn’t feel his legs.
Donnie forced his eyes to stay open, desperately punching in the passcode for the tank disassembly.
Hold on, he begged. Hold on. And he wasn’t even sure what he was begging for. For his brother’s lives, for his own, for just a little more time, for anything.
A green light flashed in Donnie’s face, and the tank fell apart right as Donnie blacked out.
For the second time in his life, Donnie regained consciousness while spitting up water.
He was face down in the grass, and extremely, extremely confused.
“Donnie! Oh, thank god!” Weakly, Donnie lifted his head to see his three brothers, all sprawled out on the grass as well.
Mikey was throwing up into the grass, and the pale face of Leo told Donnie that he had recently done the same. Raph was the only one sitting up.
They were alive. Donnie scrambled to his feet.
“What-? How did we-?"
“I woke up in the middle of the bay, also throwing up water,” Raph explained, picking seaweed out of the spikes of his shell. “You three were out like lights.”
Donnie felt his eyes well up, and his hands started to shake. They had been so close. He had been so close to losing them.
“Did you carry us back?” Mikey asked weakly, and Raph nodded in response.
“But Donnie was the one who got us out!” Raph smiled. “We would’ve still been at the bottom!”
“Donnie?” Leo called softly. “Hey, are you alright?”
No, Donnie thought. No, I am not. But he couldn’t bring himself to say it, instead, he tackled his three idiots, choking back sobs. He felt his brother’s arms wrap around him, heard the soft murmuring of Leo and Mikey, but he couldn’t stop shaking. He rested his head against Raph’s plastron, sighing when Raph leaned his head on top of his.
“Donnie?” Leo called. “Your shell. It’s bruised around the edges. Cut up a bit.”
And Donnie just laughed, and pulled his brothers in tighter, beyond thankful for the soft shell on his back.