Chapter Text
-2018-
Splinter wouldn’t say things got worse as the week progressed, but they certainly didn’t get better either.
He had known his boys would try to weasel their way out of their punishment. He expected that. He also expected that they wouldn’t even wait a full day before bringing up the topic again. What he didn’t expect was that they would continue to talk about Master Splinter like he was God’s gift to mutant turtle boys of something.
And that they’d keep bringing him up, over and over and over! “Master Splinter said he liked my drawing”, “Master Splinter thought my security system upgrades were a good idea”, “Master Splinter gave me some pointers on how to hold my sword”, ugh. He wasn’t sure if this was some new roundabout strategy of sucking up to him, or if they were trying to tell him something, but all it did was make him grit his teeth whenever they brought him up.
And the only thing worse than his boys constant talking about Master Splinter was the man himself. There was no avoiding him, it seemed. The lair was a decent size, it should have been easy to stay out of each others’ way, and yet!
When Splinter stumbled out of bed at the crack of noon, Master Splinter was finishing up morning training and meditation. When he went to the kitchen for his afternoon snack, Master Splinter was there making his afternoon tea (with his teabags no less!!) When he wanted to watch his evening shows, Master Splinter was getting ready to go to bed early, like some sort of old man (nevermind that Splinter was also an old man)
And of course all these incidents led to fights. Petty, bitter little spats full of dirty looks and passive aggressive words. These interactions always left Splinter with a bitter taste in his mouth, made all the worse by the way his sons would redouble their efforts to talk Splinter’s ears off about how ‘great’ the other man was.
He’s starting to think they might like Master Splinter better than him.
“If they like Master Splinter so much why don’t they just marry him…” Splinter muttered petulantly, before screwing up his face in disgust. That- wait. No. That came out wrong. See, this whole ordeal was even messing up his impeccable sense of humor! The Donatello’s truly couldn’t get the portal up and running fast enough.
Unfortunately, that particular path had hit a bit of a roadblock. Despite Donnie’s assurances of having a way home for their alternates within 3-5 business days, said way home had yet to materialize. The Purples seemed to struggle to unify their respective universes math and physics. They had nearly come to blows over some differing mathematical formula already, and so they had to essentially start from scratch, learning each others basics as they went. The boys hadn’t been too discouraged by this, but Splinter wanted to scream at the prospect of being stuck with his counterpart for any longer.
Still, if there was one bright side to the whole ordeal, it was that his alternate sons would be here longer as well. Those boys clearly needed to relax, to do things for fun and not because it was their duty as Hamato or as ninja. Splinter was happy they could do that here, and he’d do anything in his power to encourage it, Master Splinter be damned. Sure, he may not want Splinter “endangering” his sons, but he hadn’t yet forbidden him spending time with them. And if he just happened to run into them while wandering through the lair, well, it’s just being a good host to check in on them!
That was the plan when he walked into Purple’s lab one afternoon. He happened to see Raph walk out with Donnie hanging limply under one arm, like a grumpy sack of potatoes, presumably forcing his brother to take a break. So Splinter decided to check in and make sure Donatello was doing the same. (Yup, just happened to. By complete coincidence. Definitely had not been waiting for Donnie to leave to avoid yet another lecture about how ‘cool’ Master Splinter was, no sir)
As Splinter walked in, he was pleasantly surprised to see he wasn’t the only one planning to get the genius workaholic to take a break. Michelangelo was flopped over Donatello’s shell, poking and prodding at his brother in a way only youngest siblings could. And it was clearly getting on Donatello’s last nerve.
“Deeeeeeeeee, come ooooooooon,” Michelangelo whined. “Just one game and you can get back to your nerd stuff.”
“Mikey,” Donatello gritted out, “my ‘nerd stuff’ is the only way we’re getting home! I can’t stop until I have this figured out.”
“But Donnie stopped!”
“Donnie was taken hostage by Raph. Are you going to do the same?”
Michelangelo paused, considering, then struck a heroic pose. “If I must!” He said dramatically. “For the good of my one and only brother!”
“We are literally quadruplets- oof!” Donnie was cut off as Mikey tackled him, causing him to flail and lose his balance on the chair he was hunched on. The two turtles landed on the floor with a thud and quickly devolved into a scuffle.
Splinter couldn’t help but chuckle at their antics, grabbing both turtles’ attention.
“Splinter!” Donatello yelped. The boys quickly scramble away from each other and stand up. “Uh, if you’re looking for Donnie, he’s not-“
Splinter shook his head. “I’m not looking for Purple,” he dismissed. “I actually saw he was taking a break for once, and wanted to make sure you were doing the same.” He glanced over to Michelangelo and they shared a smile. “I’m glad to see I wasn’t the only one.”
While Michelangelo beamed, Donatello slumped. “Splinter, I-“ he sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. “I can’t stop yet. We’re so close to a breakthrough, I know it! If I can just figure out what’s missing…”
Splinter frowned. “And how long have you been at this?”
Donatello smiled sheepishly. “Er…since breakfast?”
“What!” Michelangelo whirled on his brother. “Dude! It’s way after lunchtime!” He exclaimed. He put his hands on his hips. “Did you even eat anything?”
“I’ll eat when I’m done!”
“Nuh-uh! No way bro,” he grabbed Donatello’s arm and started pulling him toward the door. “C’mon, I’m gonna whip you up a Michelangelo special.”
Donatello scowled and yanked his hand back. “I said no!” He crossed his arms and glared at Michelangelo, who mirrored him.
Before this could escalate to another fight, Splinter decided to step in. “What are you working on?”
Donatello gives an annoyed huff. “I told you-“
“Yes, I know you are working on the portal, but I mean-“ Splinter hesitated, unsure how to word it. “How are you- What exactly is giving you trouble?
Donatello paused, giving Splinter a confused look. “You…want to hear about the portal?”
“Sure!” ‘Want’ was probably a strong word. Splinter already knew he’d have absolutely no idea what Donatello was talking about. But if there was one thing he did know, it was that the only thing Donatellos liked to do more than work on their sciencey things was talk about their sciencey things. “Perhaps talking it out will help?”
“I…guess so.” Donatello agreed hesitantly. He glanced back at the messy pile of scrap metal and wires currently on the worktable, rubbing his neck self-consciously. “I’m uh, not sure where to start.”
“Hm,” Splinter rubbed his chin thoughtfully, walking toward the chaotic table. “What about that?” He asked and pointed to a random but of metal sticking up out of the mess.
“That’s uh, that’s the frame.” Donatello explained. “High-grade titanium.” He trailed off and muttered, “I don’t even know how my counterpart gets high-grade titanium…”
Splinter nodded. “And what about this?” He gestured to a glass tube filled with wires.
“That’s one of the power cells. We’re trying to upgrade the design so it doesn’t get overloaded as easily. Donnie was using a fission-powered model which-“ Donatello scoffed. “A total mistake, even if he refuses to admit it. Don’t worry, I managed to talk him down to a fusion power source instead, which is clearly superior.”
“Clearly,” Splinter agreed with a smile. Donatello smiled back. “This?” He tapped the open notebook filled with numbers and scribbles.
“Our calculations. Or rather, our attempts at calculations.” Donatello grimaced. “We’re using The Lambda-CDM model, though we may need to account for a greater critical density in one or even both of our universes, which would mean re-adjusting the percentages here…”
They went on like this for a while, Splinter pointing at a random dohickey and Donatello explaining it. At some point Donatello started pacing, waving his arms as he rambled about theoretical-this and multiversal-that, and Splinter was content to let him. Michelangelo snuck out halfway through and came back with a sandwich, which when offered to Donatello, the genius took seemingly absentmindedly, continuing to rant between bites.
Splinter smiled and pointed to a random circuit board. “How about that?”
“Oh that? That’s going to be the cache for the portal’s data.” Donatello said easily, the self-consciousness from earlier all but vanished. “If we get it working, we’ll be able to save the dimensional signature of the worlds we visit for future use, rather than having to re-calibrate for every trip.”
“Oh!” Michelangelo perked up. “So like our world.”
Donatello’s pacing stopped. Slowly, he turned to look at Michelangelo. “…say that again.” He ordered.
“Like…our world?” The orange turtle replied uncertainly. “You know, since it… already connected to our dimension?”
Donatello went completely still. Then he lunged at Michelangelo, who yelped and shielded his face. For a moment Splinter worried he’d have to break up another fight. However, Donatello only grabbed him by his shoulders, shaking his brother wildly. “MIKEY YOU’RE A GENIUS!”
“C-can I-I g-get that I-in w-writing?” Michelangelo said, teeth clacking together as his head was jerked around.
“No need, I record everything.” Donnie interrupted, walking back into the lair with Raph following behind.
Splinter’s eldest did a double take at that. “Say what now?” Raph said, his voice raising in pitch, but Donnie waved him off.
“Eh, don’t worry about it. Now why is Michelangelo’s IQ being compared to my own-“ Donnie paused, his eyes finally landing on Splinter. “Dad? What’re you doing here?”
“Eheh, uh, hello Purple…” Splinter gave an awkward wave and glanced away. He suddenly felt like he’d been caught doing something he shouldn’t have, but he couldn’t quite place why. Perhaps because he was in Donnie’s lab without him? His son could be notoriously territorial over his space…
Donatello jumped in, thankfully cutting off the awkward moment. “Mikey’s a genius because he just solved our portal problem.” He said excitedly. He gestured at the circuit board. “The dimensional history cache. In theory, it should still contain the coordinates of the last place your portal connected to. So if we can salvage it-“
“-We can use it as a black box to recover the coordinates! OHMIGOSH MICHELANGELO IS A GENIUS!” Donnie danced in place, waving his arms. “This makes everything SO much easier!" He gushed. "How did you guys even come up with this?”
“Well, I can’t take all the credit,” Donatello admitted. “Your Dad’s been a great sounding board.”
At that, Donnie paused. “Excuse me?”
“He came in asking about the portal.” Donatello explained. “I was telling him about our algorithm and what we had so far, and when we got to the circuitry housing the cache Mikey brought up the history and…” The other genius shrugged. “Here we are.”
Now, Donnie had never been the most…enthusiastic of his sons. While he did have his moments of theatrics and excited outbursts, his baseline was markedly calmer than his brothers’. But even by that standard, Splinter could see that Donnie’s previous enthusiasm had vanished. “Oh.” Donnie said. His voice had gone from excited to remarkably stiff. He turned to Splinter with an unreadable expression. “And you…listened to all that?”
Splinter fumbled, flustered. “W-well, I didn’t exactly understand most of what Donatello said, but,” he waved a hand, as if trying to dismiss his embarrassment. “I decided I should check in, to make sure you boys aren’t going to be dragging any other turtles into our home any time soon.”
Donatello chuckled at the joke. Donnie…didn’t. “Right.” He said. “Of course.”
Splinter frowned. He still couldn’t quite decipher Donnie’s expression. Was he annoyed at the wasted time? Perhaps embarrassed that he hadn’t found the solution himself? He glanced at Raph, wondering if perhaps he had any clue, but Red’s attention was entirely on Donnie, looking worriedly at his brother who refused to look him in the eye.
Before the silence could become too awkward, Donatello cleared his throat. “Well, we should probably get back to work, now that we have a plan.” He said. He turned to Splinter with a proud smile. “We’ll have to go slow as to not damage the data any further, but still, work should go much faster now. I’m sure we’ll be back home and out of your hair in no time.”
Splinter smiled back. “I never doubted you for a second.” He said. And he meant it. His son was a brilliant scientist, had repaired or invented almost every piece of technology in the lair. He had no doubt Donnie could’ve found these five a way home all on his own with only paper clips and string. And when working with an equally-brilliant counterpart? The fabric of the universe was nothing against that! “I’ll leave you boys to it then,” he said, turning and heading for the door. “Try to finish up before dinner, I believe Orange is making empanadas!”
Donatello and Michelangelo called out their goodbyes after him, though Splinter’s own sons remained silent. Hm.
He shook his head. Well, no use dwelling on that. He looked around the hall for a moment, before heading toward the TV room. Maybe his counterpart would be there. Splinter was sure Master Splinter would love to hear the update about the portal’s progress, and if Splinter just happened to let him know that it was thanks to his encouragement that the Donatello’s had a breakthrough, well, who could blame him for boasting?
-2012-
Michelangelo waved to Splinter, bouncing on his toes as he did. He couldn’t help it! Not only had he gotten Donatello to take a break, but his bro also called him a genius! He’d helped in the lab for once! Without anything exploding! He couldn't help doing a little dance in place. Donnie’s excitement must’ve rubbed off on him.
More like he absorbed it, actually. The alternate Donatello looked bummed, a complete 180 from the excitement he’d had just a few minutes ago. It’s like something had completely taken the wind out of his sails, and Michelangelo had no idea what.
His brother didn’t seem to notice. Which made sense, Donatello wasn’t exactly an expert on feelings, and was so caught up in the portal project he probably wouldn’t notice if April walked into the room and professed her love to him.
“So, I was thinking the best course of action would be to start by cleaning up the circuit board a little.” Donatello said, walking around the lab and digging through random drawers and shelves. “Carefully, of course, we don’t want to risk damaging it further. Hey, where do you keep your-“
“Actually, Donatello,” Raph interrupted gently. “I think Donnie forgot his phone in the kitchen just now, right Donnie?”
“Right.” Donnie muttered, staring at the floor.
“Right!” Raph said cheerfully. “So, how about you get started on…whatever you guys are gonna do, and Raph’ll go help him look for it in the kitchen.”
“Oh,” Donatello blinked. “Yeah, sure. Let me know if you need help.”
“Nah, don’t worry Dee!” Raph said, grabbing Donnie’s hand and dragging him from the room. “Be right back!”
Mikey stared at the doorway after them with a small frown. He heard Donatello get back to work behind him, continuing his search for soap, or whatever you clean a circuit board with. Maybe toothpaste? Bleach?
No, wait. Donnie and Raph. Something was up with those two. And if Donatello was too busy to check it out, that left it up to him! He made some excuse about grabbing a snack to Donatello, who gave him a mumbled acknowledgment, and slipped out of the lab.
He crept through the halls of the lair slowly, putting those years of ninja training to use until he could make out the sound of Raph and Donnie's voices. Slipping into the shadows by the doorway, he leaned closer to listen to the conversation.
“…just sayin’ you seem a little upset, Don.” He heard Raph say.
“Upset? Who’s upset? Im not upset why would I be upset?” Donnie said, sounding very much upset. “Dad’s just hanging out in my lab, talking with my counterpart about my- our invention. It’s… great!”
“Right.”
“He’s bonding with them!”
“Yeah.”
“It’s good that they’re getting along.”
“Especially because Dad doesn’t really like his counterpart.” Raph added.
“Right,” Donnie said tightly. “Yeah.”
“So this is a good thing…right?” Raph asked, sounding less sure himself.
“It is! It is, it’s just…” Donnie trailed off, and Raph didn’t respond right away. For a minute, Michelangelo tensed, worrying he’d been spotted and waiting to be scolded for eavesdropping.
But instead Raph spoke, soft enough that Michelangelo almost didn’t catch it. “You wish he was like that with us.”
Michelangelo could hear Donnie’s mouth shut with a soft click, it had gone so quiet. The genius stayed silent for a few moments, then in a small voice asked, “Why couldn’t he have asked me?”
“Aw, Don.” Raph said, and Michelangelo heard the telltale sound of someone getting pulled into a hug. A choked off whimper echoed in the air, and with a plummeting stomach he realized it came from Donnie. Donnie, sarcastic, deadpan, emotionally unavailable bad boy Donnie!
He…he really shouldn’t be listening to this, Michelangelo realized. Slowly, he crept away, back toward the lab, mind racing.
Donnie sounded upset, really upset. Apparently he was jealous of his counterpart? Not for his smarts or his cool ninja skills, but for spending time with his Splinter. Did Splinter not spend time with Donnie like that? Michelangelo hadn't thought of Splinter coming into the lab and helping Donatello through his frustrations as anything out of the ordinary, it seemed like something his dad would do after all. But when he wracked his mind for any memory from the last few days of Splinter hanging out with Donnie, or any of his sons for that matter, he came up empty. Outside of meals and a couple times the turtles hunted him down to ask him for something, nothing came to mind. He couldn't even remember the last time they'd talked to each other!
It's not like Master Splinter was around Michelangelo and his brothers 24/7, but back home, they'd still spend time together. They trained sure, but they also just talked, or had tea, or did chores, or hung out. They didn't even need to be doing anything together, sometimes they'd just be in the same room, doing their own things but enjoying each others' company. If one of them needed help or advice, they knew they could go to Master Splinter. And if they didn't, Master Splinter would probably be around to give it anyway, and it'd probably be something cool and wise that they wouldn't listen to but would help them out anyways. Could their counterparts say the same?
He’s so caught up in his thoughts that he almost ran straight into Splinter. The old man looked up at him. “Michelangelo!” He said, sounding as surprised as Mikey feels. “Slow down, my boy, what’s the rush?”
“Um,” he stammered. “Nothing, Splinter. Just uh, looking for my bros!” He forced a laugh.
Thankfully, Splinter seemed to buy it. “Well, I believe I heard Leonardo and Raphael in the arcade…”
“Cool! Thanks!” Michelangelo said, inching his way around Splinter. “Well…bye!”
“One moment, Michelangelo.”
Michelangelo froze mid step. Slowly, he turned back toward Splinter.
The rat man looked the same as ever. A short, grey-furred, friendly looking version of Master Splinter. He fixed Michelangelo with a concerned gaze. “Is everything alright?” He asked gently.
He seems so genuine, that for a moment Michelangelo opened his mouth to tell him what happened. Then the memory of how broken Donnie sounded talking about his dad flashed through his mind, and he snapped his mouth shut.
Instead, he puts on an easy smile. “Yeah dude, everything’s fine!” He reassured him. “I just...got something I really need to talk to my bros about.”