Work Text:
For such a long time, Donatello didn't understand his baby brother. He loved him sure, that was obviously quite true, but he didn't understand why his brother always lit up over one of his drawings.
His machines were durable, useful, advanced, so valuable. While the colorful and lively pages in Michelangelo's sketchbook were so simple and could hardly withstand getting wet. So, why did his entire family always get so excited when he showed his work off? What did his art have that was so amazing?
He tried to get over this confusion, to just accept that it was valuable just because it was, but his brain was never satisfied with that. He could understand literal rocket science, how to totally not sneak trackers onto his family while they were sleeping, could memorize multiple autobiographies, how could he not understand something so simple? It made no logical sense!
He had tried it himself a few times, but it had never come out quite right. He had spent hours with a pencil and a piece of paper, trying his hardest. But even when he applied all the proper measurements according to anatomy, it still came out feeling so.. hollow. Robotic. He loved robots, but that wasn't the goal. It wasn't like Michael's work, it was still missing some things. But he couldn't figure it out then.
.
.
Something began to happen after they had defeated Shredder and Leo was appointed as leader.
He wasn't sure how it was possible, but that one decision seemed to catapult 'Nardo straight into orbit. Suddenly, it was like he couldn't handle not being praised for one moment, and he didn't listen to the other three of them as much. Something else was also off, but his blue-masked dum dum of a brother couldn't come back down to Earth long enough for him to figure it out!
Either way, Raph did not like that.
Soon, their very dysfunctional, slightly functional family was fractured. His twin and his big brother could hardly handle being in the same room without fighting. Leo would do something idiotic and Raph would fight him over it. Day over day, it happened, over and over.
At first, bless his heart, his baby brother attempted to intervene. He still did, whenever it got too bad. But no matter how many meetings with Dr. Feelings or Dr. Delicate Touch those two had, the arguments did not stop. That was when Angelo began to come to his lab. It was a quieter place and Donnie had designated his baby brother his own space in it.
With this, he also got the opportunity to view his brother when he was working. His deep concentration as he began to make marks with his decorated pencil, the sheer joy as he drenched the page with color and light. He began to understand.
Art wasn't quite as simple as he had thought. It wasn't just about measurements or what the final product turned out to be. It was about the freedom it gave, the creativity it allowed, the ability to capture emotions and the heart into something tangible.
Donatello had never been exceptionally good at emotions, but seeing his brother's art made it a bit easier. The colors and lines dulled, or maybe an angry red overwhelmed the page, or maybe it was soft and bright, like some sort of fantasy land. It was something he could actually read or get a clue from. It was so much easier than just reading tones of voice or strange facial expressions. Even when there was nothing deeper he could see, it made him and his baby brother closer than they had ever been.
After a while, he even began to let Angelo work with him on his projects. His baby brother obviously couldn't help him with the mechanics (though he had really tried to learn how, ah, he loved him so much), but he could make his creations dazzle. The small perfectionist part of his brain cried in agony, but he quickly shut it up when he saw the big, clear smile on his baby brother's face. Happy.
Michael's art was just as important as his tech, just in a different way, and they could combine to make something better than either.
This was clear as he and his brother pushed their small little boat into the river. It was a small trinket, made of the purest alloys, fixed with LED's and jet propellers, but also was colored in shades of scarlet and aquamarine, with multiple stickers plastered on, and had a small purple and orange flag waving from the top. It certainly wasn't the most technologically impressive thing, but it was one of the most favorite things he'd made. They'd made.