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Michelangelo believed, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that Donnie was a good person.
He understood how people could get the wrong impression. The emotionless tone that would escape the softshell’s mouth when he became bored, frustrated, or simply spoke to someone he barely knew. How he seemed to give far more concern to data and numbers than the people involved in an incident. How he’d put himself and others at risk just to test a new invention. How a misplaced sound or too many voices would have him screeching at everyone to be quiet.
But Michelangelo knew better. He knew Donnie’s monotone came from a place of not knowing what emotion would best help the situation, so he chose to express nothing at all. How he picked through data and numbers to prevent the incident from happening again. How he fully believed a proper working invention would subvert the risks that came with testing it, because it could save their lives later. How sometimes he just stayed up too late working and the sounds overstimulated him.
Maybe he had this perspective because he had the advantage of being the baby sibling. That no matter how tired, overworked, or frustrated Donnie became, he’d always greet Michelangelo with a gentle tone and let the box turtle hang out in his lab as they both silently worked on their own projects.
Not that he was immune to Donnie’s wrath on occasion. He was the youngest sibling, and that came with the territory of sometimes annoying his older brothers on purpose. And sometimes that annoyance stemmed from the fact that Donnie kept working instead of participating in family time, so Michelangelo would sit there and annoy him until he gave up.
But no matter how loud Donatello shouted, or threatened them with a chainsaw, or rigged their chairs to collapse, or lightly popped open their soda cans so they’d go flat, or intentionally cut off the hot water while they were showering, Michelangelo knew his brother was good to his core.
Those feelings were only cemented after the kraang invasion.
The few weeks that followed that ordeal were awful. Despite the fact they should be celebrating a victory, it felt impossible to do so. Most of the city was in shambles. Raph had a nasty shoulder injury, foggy vision in one eye, and was clearly still reeling from being possessed. Leo had a massive crack in his shell, some broken ribs, a broken leg, and sometimes his heart would stutter in terrifying ways. Of course the slider kept trying to make jokes about it, and Donnie would scold him for it.
Michelangelo could barely help during their recovery. The mystic tears in his skin burned. It made his hands shake, to the point he could hardly hold a spoon or a pen.
Donatello was the one who built a correction lens for Raph’s eye. He was the one who put together some compression gloves so Mikey could use his hands again. He designed the material to fill in the splits in Leo’s shell before it got any worse. He even managed to make it blue, which made Leo smile.
Donnie might have even overworked himself in the process. Thankfully Mikey wasn’t the only one insisting he gets some rest, their father hassled him just as much about it.
So yes, Michelangelo was determined that Donnie was far more kind than people gave him credit for.
He even thought this while listening to his twin brothers screaming in the background.
“Nardo, if you do not return my tablet in the next three seconds I am shoving you into a rocket and blasting you into the thermosphere.”
“Come on, I’m sick and dying and I wanna watch my silly little shows.”
“Scoff, you’ve made almost a full recovery and you can watch your silly little shows on your tablet.”
“Kinda broke that one.”
“How?”
“Mikey and I were using it as a frisbee.”
“Angelo!”
Michelangelo ducked his head halfway into his shell, but couldn’t stop grinning. Donnie stomped over to him, eyes ablaze with fury.
“We never replaced our old frisbee.” Michelangelo tried the excuse.
“So you chose to use a tablet?”
“It’s flat.”
Donnie threw open his arms as he looked up. “I am surrounded by morons. Fools!” His hands clutched the sides of his head. “I should launch both of you into the thermosphere.”
Michelangelo lifted his head and smiled wider. “Aw, come on Dee, you know you’d miss my adorable face.”
Donnie pointed at him. “I would miss no such thing.”
He just kept snickering, knowing the threats were empty. At least most of it. It would be entirely possible that the next time they went out, Donnie would materialize a spring platform under their feet and set it off.
“Going to watch my shows now.” Leo announced.
“No. You get back here.” Donnie sprinted after him.
Michelangelo just kept smiling, honestly glad to hear Leo with this much energy. The snark never died, of course, but now he was back to causing problems on purpose. Over the past week he seemed to be sleeping a lot better. Those first few weeks he’d been plagued by nightmares, waking up screaming more than once. But now whenever Michelangelo checked on him, his brother appeared to sleep more peacefully than he ever had.
Michelangelo tried to return to his drawing. The lines were still a bit shaky, but at least now his drawing of Casey Jr. didn’t look like it’d been drawn during an earthquake. He wasn’t even certain their friend from the future would appreciate it, but it was something. He’d been taking adjusting to the present pretty hard, even if moving to Draxum’s place seemed to be helping.
Then he heard familiar footsteps and glanced back and up to see Raph approaching, phone in hand. It still felt strange that his right eye was now two shades lighter, but at least it looked normal otherwise.
“Everything okay?” Michelangelo asked, noting the frown on his brother’s face and the crevices returning to his forehead.
“I think?” The snapper rubbed his head. “Casey texted me, senior, says she needs our help with something.”
Michelangelo stood. “Something urgent?”
“It doesn’t sound that way, but she is insisting we don’t take too long.” The snapper glanced around. “Where did Donnie and Leo go?”
He shrugged. “Just follow the sound of them arguing and I’m sure you’ll find them.”
As if on cue, Donnie shouted, “Nardo quit teleporting! You’re going to hurt yourself.”
Raph nodded. “Right, let’s go get them.”
Michelangelo hoped that Casey wouldn’t be mad that they were a little late.
Mainly because Raph informed their brothers about what she said, and Leo promptly announced he’d grab his swords to open a portal. Then Donnie went off about how Leo still shouldn’t be straining himself, which started an argument about how Leo was fine enough to do this. If he could walk, he could open a few portals.
Raphael finally broke up the bickering by loudly announcing that they’d go on foot, and he’d even carry Leo if it made Donnie shut up.
So it took them a bit to get to the address she texted.
Michelangelo guessed an apartment building since she gave them a floor and a room number, but an abandoned one? They probably could get away with punching the door open, but Donnie picked the lock instead.
Michelangelo stuck close to Donnie as they ascended the dusty staircase. The only light source was the floodlights from Donnie’s shell, which made the cobwebs turn into massive shadows along the wall.
It made the box turtle think of ghosts, and he clung even tighter to his sibling.
Thankfully it didn’t take long to get to the third floor. After passing a few doors, Raphael knocked on one, and in a matter of seconds it flung open.
“There you are.” Cassandra hissed, her hockey mask still on. “What took you so long?”
“Leo’s still recovering, so we had to walk.” Raph pointed to the slider who lounged on his shoulders.
Though now Leo climbed down, grinning. “Man, Casey, if this is supposed to be a surprise party you need to step up the decorating.”
She pointed at him. “Silence, Blue. You’re lucky you’re still recovering or I’d throw something at your face for that comment.”
He just chuckled.
Michelangelo smiled, rocking back and forth on his feet at the familiar banter.
“Jokes aside.” Raph even nudged Leo back as he said this. “What is this about?”
Cassandra pointed behind her with her thumb. “I need help getting answers out of this guy.”
Michelangelo blinked and spoke at the same time as his brothers, “Huh?”
They all followed her into the empty apartment. The carpet had been shredded in a few places. More webs hung from the ceiling. And all the doors were shut, just leaving this space that was probably intended to be a living room.
In the center of it, tied to a folding chair, was a man. No, a member of the Foot Clan judging by the mark on his face, but not one that Mikey recognized.
For a while they just all stared while the man glared at them, saying nothing.
Then Raph said, “Casey, we talked about kidnapping people.”
“Are you kidding me?” She barked. “Do you want the Foot Clan starting some other apocalyptic event?”
Michelangelo shivered at the thought, and could see Donnie’s hands tightening around his staff.
“I thought the Foot Clan scattered.” Leo mumbled. “Isn’t that what you said?”
“That’s what I assumed.” Cassandra crossed her arms. “I know my senseis finally quit, at least, but—”
“There will always be more of us.” The man spat.
“And you think they’ve got another plan?” Raph asked.
Cassandra walked behind the guy and used the length of her hockey stick to force his head back, the wood against his throat. “I’m almost certain they do. I heard them discussing something, but they didn’t mention the details. That’s why I grabbed him. If I can get a lead, I can stop it.”
“What, by yourself?”
“If any of you are finally fit for combat again, maybe you can help.”
Ouch. Michelangelo let that comment pass over him, but he heard the faint but annoyed chirp escape Leo’s throat and saw Raph’s shoulders going up.
So he chose to speak up before either of them did. “If we’re not up for combat, why invite us here?”
“Because nothing I’m trying is working.” She increased the pressure on the guy’s throat, making him gag, and then let go. “And since Raph insists that I’m forbidden from removing limbs—”
“Please don’t.” The snapper sighed.
“I can only punch him so many times. And maybe break a few bones.” She muttered that last part.
“So what are we supposed to do?” Leo asked.
“I don’t know, use your mystic powers?” She shrugged. “Don’t you have some spell for showing someone their worst nightmares?”
Leo scoffed. “You should have texted Draxum for that.”
“Of course!” She shouted and got out her phone. “Why did I not consider—”
Michelangelo raised a hand. “I could try setting him on fire?”
Raph immediately glared at him. “You are not setting him on fire.”
He put on a smile. “Aw, come on. Let me be Dr. Delicate Touch for a bit. I haven’t gotten to do it in a while.”
Finally, Donnie interjected by putting a hand on Mikey’s chest. “Need I remind you, Angelo, that you are still forbidden from using mystics until your hands make a full recovery.”
Michelangelo frowned. His usual appreciation for Donnie’s care and concern was suddenly very unappreciated. “The shaking’s almost stopped, okay, I’m sure I could use some hot chains to—”
“No.” Donatello said the word so firmly while he now shoved his staff towards Mikey. “Let me try something.”
Michelangelo took it, not really sure what else to do or how to even respond to that.
“What are you gonna do?” Leo said. “Start stringing along the numbers of pi until we all lose our minds?”
Donnie stepped behind the guy who kept glancing back at him. The softshell’s hands were raised. “No, Leo.”
“Please don’t summon a freaky torture device.” Raph muttered.
“Not doing that either. Now stop talking and let me concentrate.”
Michelangelo frowned. If it weren’t those two options, what was his brother going to do?
The speed at which Donnie grabbed the man’s head made the box turtle jump. The foot soldier tried to rip himself free, but Donnie’s nails dug into his cheeks and his temples.
Michelangelo watched his brother’s eyes light up. He’d seen it before, only a few times, when Donnie had been testing the ins and outs of his mystics before the invasion. Trying to use it not just to build technology, but manipulate it as well.
But what did this have to do with—
Those purple circuits sprouted from his fingers, spreading over the man’s skin and even down his neck. His eyes rolled back.
“Donnie?” Raph practically shouted. “What are you doing?”
“Don’t interrupt.” When Donatello spoke, Mikey swore he saw the foot soldier’s mouth trying to move along.
Michelangelo hugged the staff in his hands, trying to wrap his brain about what was happening right in front of him.
The man’s head wrenched back, mouth open in a silent scream. Then he leaned forward again, words falling out of his mouth in a slurry. “Clan trying to find… masks… beasts from the twilight… three in total… taken to the shrine… grant a wish.”
Cassandra, who still had her phone out, rapidly typed on it.
Then Donatello suddenly let go. The man didn’t sit back up, in fact it looked like he’d completely blacked out.
Donnie let out a long breath and shook his hands before coming back around to where they were standing. “Was that enough?”
“It’s definitely a start.” Cassandra stared at her phone screen. “Beasts of twilight though, what does that mean?”
Michelangelo didn’t have the strength to speak. It seemed his brothers didn’t either. He glanced at Raph who looked frightened enough to back into a corner if he weren’t rooted on the spot. Leo, on the other hand, just held Donnie with an intense but unreadable gaze.
Donnie glanced between the three of them and took his staff back, twisting it in his grip. “Once again, you should ask Draxum. Maybe he knows.”
“Hmph, maybe I should have asked from the start. But thank you for your assistance.” Only now did she look at them, though it was hard to follow her gaze with that mask on. “What? Why do you all look so spooked?”
“Donnie.” Leo finally spoke up, an unusual edge to his voice. “What the hell was that?”
Michelangelo didn’t know what to do.
He always tried to be the balance in his family. To bring peace to the chaos. The one convincing others to actually express their feelings and talk things out.
But he couldn’t even get a word in with everyone screaming like this.
Well no, not everyone, this time it was just Raph and Donnie.
“Just how long has this been a thing, Donnie?” The snapper’s voice boomed through the lair. It had long since alerted their father who just stood by Michelangelo, not even certain of what was happening since no one had told him yet.
“Oh do try and be more specific.” Donnie rolled his eyes for possibly the fifth time during this argument.
“Hacking into people’s brains. Is that not what you just did?”
“Cassandra wanted answers, so I got answers!”
“By mind controlling someone?”
“It’s not so in depth as controlling someone’s mind, Raph, if you would let me explain—”
“The guy couldn’t even speak properly!”
“Well, I haven’t exactly had time to perfect—”
“We’re not perfecting anything about this. We’re never doing this again.”
Michelangelo couldn’t keep himself from shivering at how angry Raph sounded. He hadn’t sounded this pissed off since his and Leo’s leader spats, which Mikey really hoped were in the past now. Shocking the slider hadn’t interjected so far, but his expression remained focused.
Donnie still didn’t back down, obviously not intimidated. “Never again? Raph, I understand your hesitation, but this could cut down on so much running in circles if we could just—”
“We’re not arguing about this, Donnie.” Raph sounded more and more distressed by the second. “I’m not letting you do this.”
“It’s not on you to decide—”
Raph pointed at his right eye. “Do you have any idea how it feels for someone to reach into your brain and mess around?”
Michelangelo’s heart stopped. The room fell completely silent. Donnie, who’d been standing there with his arms crossed and shoulders raised, backed off in an instant. His hands found his staff once more, clinging to it like a lifeline. His wide eyes stared up at Raph.
Michelangelo should say something. He should try to diffuse this. Donnie was just trying to help. He just forgot to consider what Raph went through. They could—
Raph turned and walked away.
Michelangelo’s heart clenched again. He went to run after his big brother, only for Leo to hold out a hand.
“I’ll go talk to Raph.” Leo put a hand on his shoulder. “Think you can talk to Donnie?”
The box turtle turned around only to see Donnie also rapidly retreating to his lab.
“Okay.” Michelangelo agreed, determined to find a way to fix this sudden mess.
Before he followed Donnie though, he glanced at their father who looked in both directions, ears back, clearly wanting to help.
“Um, do you wanna make some tea?” Michelangelo offered. “I know Donnie always likes some when he’s stressed.”
His dad’s ears perked up instantly. “Ah, good idea. I’ll bring it by when it’s finished.”
“Thanks.” He said it and he meant it, also hoping his father made an extra cup. He could also use the stress soothing herbs right now.
Michelangelo made his way to Donnie’s lab. Shockingly the door wasn’t bolted shut, but he still knocked on it as he stepped inside. “Donnie? Is it okay if I come in?”
The softshell was far away, sitting at his desk and bathed in the light of his various monitors. He still gave a thumbs up.
So Michelangelo walked inside. He immediately grabbed the stool sitting near one of the lab benches and brought it over to sit on.
He sat in silence for a minute, wondering if Donnie would start the conversation, but he didn’t. His gaze stayed fixed on the monitors, obviously not reading any of the text on it.
Michelangelo picked at his nails. “I know you were just trying to help, Dee.”
Donatello let out a sigh, so long and ragged he must be getting rid of every ounce of air in his lungs. “I was, but what can I possibly say to Raph? I should have at least had him leave the room for that.”
The box turtle chuckled. “He wouldn’t have unless you explained it, though.”
“You’re right.” Donnie’s gaze still didn’t leave the screen. “But I still shouldn’t have done that in front of him.”
Michelangelo wasn’t a fan of the phrasing of that. “Are you sure you should be doing it at all? Don’t you think Raph has a point? It’s not… a great thing to do, right?”
Donnie leaned back in his seat. “It’s not as if I want to do it.” He tossed up his hands. “As fascinating as it is that I can. But if I could use it to subdue an opponent or help us get a lead, doesn’t it make sense to?”
“Maybe only as a last resort?” Michelangelo offered.
“Maybe…”
“How did you even figure out you could do that?” He tried to change the subject a bit. “I mean you didn’t… test that on someone. Did you?”
Michelangelo didn’t want to imagine that. He couldn’t. Sure it was easy to picture his brother as a mad scientist. Laughing maniacally as he flipped a switch to whatever new and crazy invention he had. But messing with people’s brains?
He intentionally tossed aside the time Donnie tried to make all of them act like him. The softshell learned his lesson from that.
Donnie didn’t even respond at first, eyes scanning the ceiling for a minute. “I got the idea when I was in the ship.”
Michelangelo blinked. “Huh?”
“When I piloted the kraang ship. I was able to… get a sense for how she was connected to everyone. The people who were infected. And I considered… why couldn’t I do that? The brain is powered by electrical impulses, after all. In some ways it’s no different than fiddling with a machine.” He placed his palm flat against his keyboard. Those purple circuits trailed over the keys, words appearing in a flurry on one of the monitors. “Though I can’t dive all the way into someone’s mind like I can a computer, just try to pull things around.”
“Huh…” Michelangelo tried to hide the fear in his voice. Because he did find it fascinating, even if it was a bit scary to think about. “It does sound pretty powerful. But…”
“I know, I know.” Donnie pulled his hand away and held them both up. “I won’t do it again unless Raph or Leo give the okay.”
Michelangelo smiled, glad that his brother decided on that already. But then it faded as he put the two pieces together. “Wait, if you saw all the people the ship was connected to… did that include Raph?”
Donnie only met his stare for half a second. He crossed his arms, curling up in his chair a bit. “I did, but there wasn’t anything I could do. Most of my attention was on moving the ship, and even if I saw the connections, I couldn’t sever it. I just had to trust that Leo would figure something out.”
The box turtle beamed at him. “And then he did. Guess you were right.”
“Scoff, aren’t I always?”
Michelangelo laughed and opened his arms. With a faint nod from his brother he leaned over to give him a hug.
Donnie just patted his arm in return. “If you don’t mind, I need some time to think of how to apologize to Raph.”
Michelangelo gasped. “You’re gonna apologize?”
“Obviously!”
He just smiled again. “I knew it. You’re such a good person Donnie.” He risked rubbing their cheeks together which was predictably met with his brother shoving him away.
“Yes, yes, thank you Angelo.” Donnie muttered, then added. “Sorry if that sounded sarcastic. I mean it. Thank you.”
“Anytime, Dee.” Michelangelo gave him a salute and then got off his stool. “Dad is gonna interrupt with tea though, and you better drink it.”
Donnie just gave him a wave, which hopefully was a yes. It had to be. Donnie rarely turned down tea.
Michelangelo just took it as a victory and left the lab.
Once again his belief cemented in his mind.
His big brother was a good person.
Donatello finished the rest of his tea in his bedroom, working on his small desk computer rather than in his lab as exhaustion set in. Part of him wanted to stay up working, keep his brain from lingering on anything unpleasant, but that wouldn’t do him any favors in the long run.
He still hadn’t come up with a way to apologize to Raph.
He’d only told Mikey a half truth. There really wasn’t a way of undoing the control the kraang had on Raph, at least not from what he could find among the ship’s controls.
But he could have controlled Raph, if he’d tried hard enough. He even attempted it, just long enough to make his big brother stop fighting before he let go. Because it felt wrong. How would he be any better from the kraang if he did that?
But Donatello never forgot the feeling. Of hundreds of minds lingering right at his fingertips. An endless well of knowledge under his feet.
Part of him missed having that much control.
A knock on the door pulled him from his thoughts. Donatello left the empty mug on the desk and stepped over to find out who was there.
Leo stood on the other side, eyes wary but a faint smile on his face. “Oh, hey, you are still up.”
Donatello hummed. “Can’t sleep?”
His twin gave a nervous laugh. “Well, you know, talking with Raph brought up some things and…”
Too easy to put those pieces together. “Nightmares?”
“Yeah.”
Donatello nodded and then tilted his head towards the bed. Leo didn’t hesitate to come inside and sit on it.
With the door shut once more, Donatello joined him, already reaching out to rub Leo’s shoulder.
Leo huffed. “Seriously, what do you put in this room? Do you have lavender oil diffusers in every corner?”
“You could smell it if I did.” Donatello failed to read his twin’s expression. “Um… is Raph still mad at me?”
“I don’t know if he was mad at you.” Leo slowly relaxed, leaning back against the wall. “I think he’s just really freaked out. I kind of was too, mostly because this came out of nowhere.”
“Yes.” Donatello admitted. “I suppose I did fail to inform any of you that I discovered this.”
“And Raph also had to deal with… you know.”
“I know.” Because he did, better than the rest of them. He knew when he connected to Raph from the ship, but it barely felt like his brother. The snapper was buried under layers and layers of kraang neurons.
“Uh, anyway.” Leo smiled. “Just try to avoid jumpscaring us with it again.”
“As I told Mikey, I won’t do it again without permission.” Donatello moved his hand from Leo’s shoulder to his neck. “You need to sleep.”
“So do you.”
“I’m not the one still struggling with a heart condition.”
“It’ll get better.” Leo insisted. “And I don’t think waking up from a nightmare again is going to help that anyway.”
Donatello tightened his grip by only a hair"s width. He kept himself from staring at the circuits that emerged from his fingertips. “You never have nightmares in here.”
“Yeah, exactly.” Leo raised a brow as he smiled. “Once again, what do you put in the air? What are you…” His words trailed off. His eyelids lowered.
Donatello wordlessly tugged his twin to the side as the slider steadily fell asleep, letting his head rest on his lap.
“Get some sleep, dumb dumb.” He whispered as he curled up, letting their foreheads press together.
Even though he released most of his grip on Leo’s neurons, he didn’t let go just yet. With his eyes closed, he breathed, focusing on the sound of his twin’s heartbeat.
There. Another stutter. Skips and jumps and off beats that Leo continued to wave off as a non-concern, even when some caused him pain.
Donatello kept flowing his ninpo through his hand, focusing it now on Leo’s heart and willing it to fall into rhythm with his own.
Then a knock came from the door. Both of their hearts jumped and Donnie let go. Leo groaned, but with another steady breath he didn’t wake up.
Donatello carefully shifted his twin off his lap and left him on the bed as he went to answer the door.
This time, Raph stood behind it.
His heart stopped as he stared up at his big brother. He didn’t look angry, or even frightened, but he definitely looked tired.
What should Donnie say? He still hadn’t thought of the apology. “Raph? Um… Everything okay?” He tried.
Raph’s gaze didn’t linger on him. It moved to the left, probably spotting Leo on the bed. “Just wondered where Leo was. Cause he said he was going to bed but then he wasn’t in his room so… Guess he’s crashing with you again, huh?”
“Yes.” Donatello hid his hands behind his back, though he didn’t know why. “He seems to sleep better in here.”
Raph narrowed his eyes, that crinkle forming between his brow and his snout as he kept staring at Leo and then at Donnie.
Donatello felt both of those brown eyes looking right through him.
But then the snapper’s shoulders dropped along with his gaze as he sighed. “That’s good. He needs to be resting.”
“Yes.” Donatello agreed. “Raph I… apologize for earlier. I should not have done that without asking you or Leo.”
The glare returned, but it stayed fixed on the wall. “You shouldn’t do it at all, Donnie.”
He could keep arguing about the advantages. About how he’s learning to use it to heal and not just hurt. That if he perfected it enough he could even combat against problems involving possession they may encounter in the future.
But he didn’t. Not right now. He just nodded silently.
“Don’t stay up late.” Raph added and turned away.
Donatello’s hands, that were still behind his back, curled up into fists as they moved to his side. He decided to occupy them by grabbing his sheets and making sure Leo was well covered from his shoulders down so he wouldn’t get cold.
He could help Raph too, with enough practice. He could pluck out those haunting memories, or at least bury them deep. The snapper would stop jumping at shadows. All of them could.
Well, not Donatello. For all his experimentation, he couldn’t twist his own brain cells.
But that’d be fine. As long as he could fix everything else.
Because that’s what a good brother does.