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undercoverwizardfanfiction · 2 years

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Title: Glass Shell

Verse: ROTTMNT

Summary: Afterall, aren’t we all in various stages of falling apart?

Characters: Donatello, Leonardo, Raphael

Pairings:

Warnings: PTSD, meltdown, nightmares, past trauma

@hoshisoul and @soldierofsirens thank you both :)

Being a record-breaking insomniac, Leo is always finicky if he wakes up before he’s ready. Normally the process includes twelve alarms, turning off the heated blanket he had started using for the top half of his body and the slightly warmer second heated blanket he used for the bottom half and letting nature do its work (if he’s lucky, he’d be up by noon). What he doesn’t like is having an empty bag dropped entirely on his face. For a moment all he can do was shoot up in a sitting position and swipe at his face furiously till he’s able to catch it and pull it off. He pushes up his eye mask and rubs at his face as he reads the bag.

“Naturally sourced fair trade premium coffee beans?” He looks up to his assailant. “Raph, I keep telling you coffee is a gateway drug and our grocery bills can’t afford another caffeine addict—”

“That's not—no, I don’t have the physical strength to fight Donnie for coffee every morning,” Raph says with a shake of his head, as though the very thought of it was enough to give him nightmares. “No, I wanted to talk to you, ’cause I think something might be happening and I’m not sure. I’ve been wrong in the past; I’ve made things worse in the past—” Raph starts tapping his forefingers as his talking speeds up. “And—and I don't want to overstep, but I can't stop thinking about it and—and I thought I’d come to you since you’re better about this—”

“Buddy, buddy, you’re at a 10 right now, I need you to be at a 3,” Leo pulls his water jug off his bedside and takes a sip. “Maybe a 2. “

Raph's face twists up in frustration, but he closes his eyes and takes a few deep breaths and opens his eyes again. He starts pacing across the small space between Leo’s bed and the door, gesturing with his hands.

“OK, so we got groceries two days ago. I remember because you always buy an extra three boxes of cookies. One for dipping into sour cream while you shop, one for Pops so he doesn’t eat your cookies, and one for the drive home, ’cause, and I quote: ‘I just did my chore for the week and I deserve this.’” Raph pauses and looks at him. “You know, how you’re still alive is beyond me.”

“Pizza Supreme in the Sky wouldn’t gift me to the world and take me away so easy.'' Leo grins. Now that he’s waking up more, he stretches out his arms and legs in almost a catlike manner and yawns. “OK, OK, so we went grocery shopping. So what?”

“So, every week Donnie gets four large bags of overpriced coffee from that vegan store on the other side of town because the one we used to go to banned you both.”

“We’ve been over this. If they didn’t want us to ride a robot bear through their vegan honey aisle they should have put up a sign—”

“—SO I went to throw it in the recycling bin. And I saw there were already, like, four bags in there. That doesn’t seem healthy.”

Ah, worried big brother Raph is a classic. Leo can’t help but smile and reach out, wrapping his smaller hand around Raphs larger finger, which instinctively wraps around his.

“OK, OK, big guy, come here. Come listen to Wisonardo.” He manages to scoot over to let Raph sit down next to him before he gets up on his knees and starts kneading his shoulder. But upon realizing his fingers didn’t have the strength to make a difference, he switches to his elbows. “I know you love to worry. It’s your favorite thing to do other than collecting Teddy Bear Town coupons and anxiety. And the fact you haven't been hovering over him is great and I’m proud of you… I mean yeah, that much coffee would kill a T-Rex. But Donnie—'' Four bags was a lot of coffee, was he not sleeping at all? “That is a lot for him, but we’ve all been going through a lot with the Invasion, and I think this is just how he’s coping. I think.”

He was trying not to think about how he noticed the coffee pot had gone missing from the kitchen. Which meant either Donnie had broken the three he kept in his lab, or he had all four going off at once to ensure he didn't go a second without coffee. Out of the two options he wasn’t sure what was worse.

“So right now, we just need to give him his space. If something was really wrong my twin senses would have gone off—”

The sound of shattering glass fills the lair, and in a fit of panic, he vaults over Raph’s head. ”Nope, never mind, bad things are happening!” he says as he bursts out of his room. Leo turns so fast his feet slip under him, but he manages to right himself and run towards Don's lab.

“Donnie?” he calls out. Please let it just be an accident. Donnie’s hands were probably just slippery or he saw a spider or Webster changed the spelling of “theater” again. But as he turns around the corner, he sees pieces of a broken beaker on the floor outside his room, and a moment later a large monitor joins it, shattering and scattering across the floor.

“Donnie?” he calls out again. He runs and throws the curtains back.

Oh no.

The first thing he sees is Donnie, his tech shell to him. Before he can feel relief that he’s not hurt, he sees Donnie’s room, which, ever since they moved in, contained carefully stacked boxes all around the room's edge with the only real furniture being a desk. Now the boxes have fallen around the room with electronics and harddrives spilling out over the floor. Donnie has already grabbed a computer tower and has started raising it up over his head.

Despite years of knowing better, Leo lunges forward and wraps his arms around Donnie’s torso, trapping his arms and yanking back hard. The sudden movement causes Donnie to lose his grip on the tower and drop it back to the ground.

”Donnie, stop! You’ll hurt yourself!”

“Let me go!” Donnie shouts, thrashing around. Had it been any other turtle, Leo would have found it impossible to restrain him (Raph was Raph and Mikey was a hellion who once Kool Aid Man'd through a wall to avoid getting a tetanus shot), but he manages to lock Donnie in place by gripping his opposite wrist in a wrestling move Raph taught him.

Raph is by his side a moment later with wide, panicked eyes, looking from the ransacked lab to their brother.

“What happened! What's going on?!”

“I got him, I got him!” says Leo, even though it probably doesn’t look like that. Right now Leo’s highest priority is getting Donnie out of that room, but Raph is already hovering too close. “I said I got him. Make sure nothing is broken in here, OK? Please?” he begs.

Leo doesn’t bother to wait for an answer as he drags Donnie out of the room as best he can with Donnie’s thrashing. Before he can think of where to go, his foot catches a broken piece of monitor and the two hit the ground. Leo’s other arm instinctively covers Don’s head to keep it from hitting the concrete. Before Donnie can take advantage of his fall, he continues clinging to him as tight as he can, whispering through gritted teeth, “It’s OK, it’s OK,” as his eyes burn with tears. He presses his face into the back of Don’s neck. “It’s OK.”

After what feels like an eternity, but in reality is only a few moments, Donnie seems to understand Leo isn’t releasing him anytime soon. Slowly, his thrashing becomes weaker and the fist he had been using to pry Leo’s arm off him falls limp. There’s a small tremble that makes Leo think he’s mustering up strength to go another round before he begins to weep softly.

Leo lets out a sigh of relief. He loosens his grip for a moment to test if Donnie will take advantage and try to pull away. He lacks either the energy or the will to try anything. So Leo reaches up and grabs at the ground and heaves the two of them up into a sitting position, careful not to jostle him too much.

He checks to make sure they’re not caught on any of the wreckage before he reaffirms his other arm around him, holding him just as tight as before, but trying to comfort rather than restrain. He presses their temples together gently as he uses his thumb to stroke the back of his head.

“I gotcha buddy, just breathe,” he says softly. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Raph exit Don’s bedroom with a less-than-promising look on his face. Leo guides Don’s head so he can rest his chin on his scalp and looks at Raph. “How bad is it?”

“The surface was pretty badly cracked, but it might still work? I’m not exactly an expert,” he says, looking at Don.

Leo knows all he wants to do is check on him and find out what happened, but Leo shakes his head with a sympathetic expression on his face. Donnie doesn’t need to be bombarded with questions and he hopes that Raph will understand. Their older brother holds his gaze a moment later and, after a soft sigh, he nods.

“I’m….going to start cleaning up. Let me know if you need me…” he says, looking at them a moment longer and then walking away.

Leo is going to have to find some way to thank him later. He knows how hard it is for Raph to walk away, which is just another reason Leo knows Raph’s real strength has nothing to do with his physical form.

“I’m really proud of him,” he whispers to Donnie.

For the next several minutes, Leo simply holds his brother and rocks him. He does what he can to support him emotionally and physically as he weeps softly. But eventually, he feels Donatello stop trembling. Leo loosens his grip for a moment to test his reaction. But either Don has no reason to get free or he’s too exhausted to do so—he doesn’t know which, and isn’t sure if one would be worse than the other.

“Hey, Raph,” he calls softly. Raph ducks out of Don’s room a moment later. “Did you see if Donnie has his new bed set up yet?” When Raph shakes his head sadly, Leo lets out a small sigh.

“Oh, bud.” He holds Don a inch tighter to him. “I get it, I do,” he whispers, He looks back to Raph. “Can you help us real fast? Let's get him to my room so he can get some sleep.”

Raph’s eyes lit up, grateful to be of some help. He nods and kneels down. He holds his hand up, then hesitates. “It-It’s ok? I don’t want to mess up again—”

“Raph, it's OK. Please.” Leo gives him what he hopes is a reassuring smile, undermined by the fact that his lips can’t stop trembling.

But it has the intended effect. Raph nods. “Ok, let's go.”

Between the two of them they are able to lift Donnie to his feet. Raph has a careful grip on his shoulders that tells Leo he’s considering just picking him up, but Leo catches his eyes and shakes his head. Raph thankfully respects his wishes, but stays close as Leo pulls Don’s arm over his neck. Again, he tests to see if Donnie would rather walk on his own, but the softshell leans against him with his free hand wiping at his eyes. He’s grateful for Raph staying close as he helps Don to his bedroom, even more so when he pulls the covers back.

“Thanks, man,” he whispers over his shoulder as he guides Donnie closer. He’s unsure how to help him get into bed without manhandling him, but Donnie simply flops over on the bed and curls up in a little ball. Leo does a look-over for injury and spots a large bruise forming on his left bicep, but after a quick panic, reminds himself it would be impossible for Donnie to give himself that sort of bruise. But as Raph pulls the covers over him, he notices Don’s hands hanging over the side and that his fingers and gloves are covered in a brown liquid.

“I’m going to take these off for you, OK?” he says. He takes the gloves by the bottoms and peels them off as gently as he can, watching Don’s sleeping face in case he has any protest as Leo reaches into his bedside table and pulls out a container of unscented hand wipes. He looks over his shoulder to Raph as he bundles a bunch of wipes into his hands. “He can’t stand to have things sticking to his hands. It stresses him out,” he explains. Leo’s not sure he’s done a satisfactory job, so he sets the wipes by the bedside.

“In case you need them, bud.”

He considers going and getting one of the duffel bags Mikey has in his room, but decides against it, as Donnie is already asleep. The only consolation is that the tears streaming down his face have finally stopped, and Leo can only assume he’s sleeping well. He bunches his hoodie sleeve into his fist and carefully wipes off Don’s face and stands up hesitating a moment longer to turn the dial on Don’s headphones to noise canceling mode as gently as he can without waking him.

He turns to Raph and gestures nothing we can do now; let him rest.

“Y—yeah, OK.” Raph looks back at Donnie but Leo takes him by the arm and helps him out. Leo looks back to make sure Donnie is actually asleep before he squeezes his arm gently.

“Hey, you did so well, Big Guy. I’m proud of you.”

“Did I? He was so out of it and—and I didn’t do anything. You did more than I did—”

“You didn’t overcrowd him, you didn’t barrage him with a thousand questions. You listened, I—I—” Now that they’re out of his bedroom, he lets his voice crack as he drops Raphs arm. He presses the palms of his hands to his now-burning eyes. “I—I’ve never had to restrain him like that before. I was so scared he was going to hurt himself and I—I—” His voice cracks again and this time Leo feels Raph put a hand on his shell and guide him into a tight protective hug. Despite himself, he gratefully leans against his brother and hugs him back just as tightly. He allows himself a few moments of comfort before he pulls away and wipes at his eyes again.

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” he says, fluttering his hands, and he takes several deep breaths. He can feel Raph giving him the same look he had given Donnie.

“You look beat, man. Do you want to crash in my room for a bit?”

“No, not right now. Donnie’s stressed ’cause he has too much work to do. He’s had to rebuild our home three times now; the least we can do is pick up his bedroom.”

“Yeah, yeah, that sounds like a plan. Should we call Dad? He’d want to know.”

“He would, but he’s at Mikeys’ appointment and I don't want to worry him. We’ll let him know when they get back.” He looks at Raph. Even though the snapping turtle was no longer the leader, he still sought his opinion on certain situations. After a moment of eye contact, Raph nods.

“Alright, sounds good. I’ll grab another dustpan and then we’ll get to work.”

Leo takes a moment and looks back to the room where his brother is currently sleeping off the worst meltdown he has ever seen. The fluttering returns to his hands as he shakes out his hands and takes another deep breath before heading to Donnie’s wrecked room.

(#)(#)\/(#)(#)

Cleaning had never been Leo’s strong suit; helping, even less so. But with Raph’s guidance, the two are able to clean up the disassembled room that had been assigned to Donnie. Now that things are being cleaned up, he can see the shattered remains of two coffee pots and a broken mug with dried coffee under one of the fallen stacks. Leo doesn’t point it out to Raph. He doesn’t want to brainstorm over what happened here; his anxiety would only think of the worst-case scenario and do no one any good. But he takes note of it as he cleans up. Even with the help, it takes a few hours to get anything back into respectable order. Nowhere near as organized as Donnie had been (there were no sub-subcategories or codes), but hopefully done well enough so that Donnie wouldn’t be stressed out.

“Ugh, I can’t believe Splinter expects us to do this more than once a year,” Leo grumbles as he stands up straight, shaking the dust from their labor off his hands.

Raph looks at him with a big smirk that Leo hadn’t realized he missed. “If you cleaned more than once a year it wouldn’t be hard to clean.”

“UGH. NO. I REFUSE! That’s for ugly people!” he says with an overly dramatic scoff that does the intended job of making Raph laugh. His older brother reaches over and takes his shoulders from behind, digging his thumbs into his shoulders.

“Alright, your highness, let's get out of here before you break into hives.”

“Ow, ow! Spiky fingers, spiky fingers!!!” He squirms to free himself, but Raph guides him out of the room. Leo twists free and sticks his tongue out at him at a safe distance, which does nothing other than make Raph laugh harder. “OK, you brute, for a job well done, I think we deserve ice cream,” he says. Without waiting, he skips back over to the kitchen. He’s already imagining what kind of cottage cheese he’s going to add to his ice cream as he pulls the freezer door open. The cold breeze barely reached his finger tips before he freezes up.

Endless darkness.

His body ached from hours and hours of battle and now rested against a large rock. It was the closest he had come to rest in close to twelve hours. Through bleary eyes, he saw a large form, forged from metal he couldn't even imagine. It caused the very ground beneath him to tremble with each step. Its laughs were as dark as the void around him.

“My wrath shall be reserved for you and you alone.”

Leo jumps back and slams the freezer door shut. He throws himself back as far back as he can until his shell hits the kitchen table, causing it to slide back several inches. He looks at the fridge as though he expected the cold to break free and drag him in with it.

The cold always made it worse.

The cold always consumed him.

The sound of Raph’s footsteps reaches him and he barely has time to stand back up and calm his exterior before he enters.

“What’s up? What kind of ice cream are we eating?”

“Um, ACTUALLY, how about we eat some real food? I forgot I have a cavity so I have to chillax on the ice cream,” he says, hoping Raph doesn’t remember he considers cavities to be achievements, but after giving him a quizzical expression, Raph looks back out into the Lair. Confused, Leo goes to join him, but realizes what, or who, Raph is looking for.

“Looks like Splinter and Mikey decided to go shopping after their appointment.” Leo leans in the doorway by him.

“If they went to Sparkling Sterling Sporks, then we might not see them again for a week,” Raph says with a smirk, but Leo watches Raph’s gaze go back to his subway car. For a moment he’s scared that Raph will just go over, but his older brother takes a deep breath. “OK, Lee, I’ll follow your lead on this. What should we do next?”

Leo isn’t sure how many more times he can tell Raph he’s proud of him before it loses meaning. Instead, he gives him a supportive squeeze on the arm.

“I’ll check on him if he’s still asleep. I don't want to wake him. Mikey made a giant pot of french onion soup; can you heat some up? It's one of Don's favorites and maybe it’ll help him feel better.”

“No coffee?”

“God no, but if you could rush order some coffee beans and a new coffee maker for tomorrow, that’d be great. If he finds out he’s all out he’s going to murder us all without mercy.”

Raph breaks out into another smile but it falls into a moment of Oh shit, he’s right as he turns and books it back to the kitchen with his phone up, typing furiously. Leo can’t help the chuckle that escapes him. Laughing again feels really good; it feels like he hasn't laughed since the Invasion, unless it was for show. He makes his way back towards the subway car. After a moment to steel himself, he presses his palm to his bedroom door. He had only intended to peek, but after a glimpse his eyes widen and he throws the door open.

The bed is empty.

“Donnie?!” he calls, looking around. There isn’t really a space to hide in his room but he has to make sure Donnie isn’t sitting in a corner out of sight. “Dee? Alone time is fine but knowing you’re OK is even cooler??” He hurries out into the main living space and does a quick 360 to make sure Donnie isn’t hanging out in the arcade or wandering around with a broken coffee pot for his first victim.

There is none.

There is nothing.

Leo turns to run to the kitchen before skidding to a stop and he flutters his hands angrily by his head. “Calm down, calm down, it’s OK, it’s OK. Panicking isn’t going to help anyone. Donnie is capable and fine,” he reminds himself. He blows out air between his lips and, with one final angry flap, stills his hands. He manages to calm his exterior and goes to the kitchen, hoping Donnie wandered in in the ten seconds he was gone. He feels his heart drop when he only sees Raph at the stove, who gives him a confused look.

“Leo? Donnie ok?”

“Um, yeah, yeah.” His hands tremble again as he does one more look around the room. “I mean, yeah, I think he is. He’s not here. And—and he’s not in the Lair.”

“Wh—what do you mean?” A surge of panic fills Raph's eyes that Leo has been expecting since they first heard the glass break. “He’s not here? Did he run away—”

“No, no, I don't think that.” Leo has to bring his hands up again and stims a little. He has to calm down, separate the panic from the truth. “No. Donnie doesn’t run away, he sulks and pouts. He only runs away dramatically after we’ve binge-watched the first twenty-three seasons of Lou Jitsu in Lou Jitsu and his Shakes-Pearean Wedding to MilkShakespeare.” Deep breath, deep breath. “We were cleaning for a while,”—he has to be logical—“He might have just needed some air and walked out without telling us.” Leo pulls out his phone and, not for the first time, he prays that Donnie secretly installed his turtle tracker on his phone. But as he struggles to pull up any apps through burning eyes, all he can see is Donnie's wrecked bedroom, one that was done after a terrible night at the Yokai Mart which felt like a lifetime ago and now, in a Lair that didn't feel like home, the feeling of Donnie thrashing against him before breaking down and weeping in his arms.

He pauses.

He realizes.

Leo takes a deep breath and puts his phone (one more wrong password from being locked out) back in his belt. He closes his eyes and makes eye contact with Raph, who's looking at him like he’s lost his mind.

“I think I know where he’s at,” he starts carefully, with less confidence than he’s trying to exude. “I—I’m going to go check real fast, but it might take me a bit to get there.”

“You—” Raph pauses, “You don't want me to come with you, do you?”

“No, bud—” it's hard for Leo to watch Raph’s eyes fall to the ground, filled with frustrated tears. “Hey, hey.” Leo steps forward and, in the same way he did with Donnie, puts a hand on the back of Raph’s head and puts their temples together. “You’re a turtle of action. You do an amazing job keeping us safe. And I know it doesn’t seem like it now. But this? This is helping a ton. I wouldn’t have been able to help Donnie like I did without you. But I need you to stay here in case Donnie comes back.”

After a breath, Raph looks at him again and, though a tear runs down his face. He gives a shaky smile and a nod that Leo makes sure to return.

“That’s my man. Keep the soup warm, and if Dad gets back before us, just tell him the truth, but don't say anything before they get back. He and Mikey are having fun and if anyone deserves that, it's them.” He releases Raph. He hurries to Mikey’s room long enough to grab a duffel bag with a piece of purple duct tape wrapped around the handle (alongside a few others with different color markings), returns to the kitchen, and stuffs a few more items from around the kitchen into his bag. Leo makes sure to give Raph one more encouraging smile. As he walks out of the lair, he looks over his shoulder to make sure he’s far enough away before he secures the duffel bag to his shell and breaks into a dead run.

(#)(#)\/(#)(#)

It's not until Leo’s almost to the lair that the terrain gets treacherous. Splinter and Draxum never talked about how the Battle with Shredder went down, but it wrecked everything underground for almost a two-mile radius. And in the times they returned to their former home to collect any resources that had survived, Mikey would always cling to someone's arm with a death grip until they left again. The youngest of them had been the only one brave enough to manifest how it had felt to come back to their ruined home.

Because of the momentum from running, Leo’s able to easily vault over several broken slabs of concrete, jump over wide gaps in the ground that revealed sewer tunnels underneath, and walk through the makeshift tunnel they had dug out to make treks to their old home easier. It takes him a minute to shimmy though until he finds himself doubling over, gasping for air in the wrecked remains of their childhood home.

Like every time he's visited, he freezes for a moment with his breath caught in his chest. He reaches a trembling hand up and feels his mask tails. He can still remember the jerk from when Shredder nearly cut his head off. The panic as he watched their home cave in around them, feeling powerless. Helpless.

He remembers how close they came to becoming memories.

He remembers how close they came to becoming memories since then.

He shakes out his trembling hands and moves through the lair. At this point in time, because of the open water pipes and gathering moisture, algae and grass have begun to replace their presence here (which, in a way, was a blessing if anyone ever came down to fix the pipes). But the only remaining color comes from the still hanging torn purple curtain that Donnie had refused to take with him. He hovers at the entrance for a moment; he knows better than anyone how overbearing he can be and he will never quite forgive himself for how he reacted during the Yokai Mart incident. But he knows better now, he hopes. He raises his hand and knocks gently on the frame of the opening.

“Dee? It's me. Is it OK if I come in and hang out for a bit?” he asks, fully knowing there’s a good chance Donnie isn’t there and, even if he is, he isn’t sure what to expect as a response. But Leo watches the curtain twitch for a moment, as though someone is trying to pull it open without having the energy to do so. Leo grips the straps of his duffel bag tighter before ducking in.

Most of Don’s room had caved in during the attack, leaving the only viable sitting spot directly by the entrance where Leo sees him, curled up with his face in his knees. If he hadn’t seen Donnie try to pull the curtain open he would’ve thought he had simply fallen asleep again. He does a quick look-over to check for injury, but other than the large bruise on his bicep that has now fully formed against his sea-green skin, he's grateful to find nothing new. He looks around for a place to sit before deciding to sit by his side, giving him enough space that he hopes will help him feel comfortable. Now that he knows where Donnie is, he could relax and let out a deep breath, sinking down to give his now aching body a break.

For a moment he's satisfied with just sitting there, catching his breath. But out of the corner of his eye he watches Donnie for any sudden movements or signs that he wants Leo to leave. But he waits a bit before he speaks, until he knows it won't be hindered by his gasping breath.

“How did you know I’d be here?” Donnie’s voice is so quiet, he isn’t sure he hears him at first.

“I could say I’m a great detective. But I know you’d want to be somewhere no one would look for you…” He looks around the room, catching sight of a pile of rubble that had been moved recently, as though someone had moved things around to lay down. “How often do you come here now?” He sees Donnie flinch out of the corner of his eye and he knows he’s hit on a truth.

“A little? At first, just after the Invasion ’cause I needed to be somewhere to breathe, then a few days a week, then every night when everyone went to bed. I needed to be somewhere I could scream and shout without anyone coming running. I just.” He blinks hard. “I just wanted to go home.”

Leo has to look away to keep his eyes from welling up again, trying not to think about how many nights Donnie spent in this wreckage, not just for his mental health. But looking around, he’s reminded how unstable the wreckage is. If Donnie had hit his head, or fallen, how long would it have been before anyone had noticed? Or would they have just woken up one day and thought Donnie had run away? A thousand new nightmares vie for his attention, but he manages to take a deep breath and blink back tears of panic by reaching for the duffel bag.

“I brought it along in case it might help.”

“Unless there's a new coffee maker and ten-gallon thermos, I doubt it.”

“No, but there is water.” Leo can't help but smirk. “Before you murder me and feed me to your robotic worms, I know you haven't had any liquid that hasn’t been boiled to death by a coffee maker in a few days. I’ll make you some coffee tomorrow, but for right now, if you could stomach a bottle of water, I'd really appreciate it.”

Tired bloodshot eyes peer at him from over Donnie’s arms and he flinches in a way that Leo can tell means he’s trying to glare but doesn’t have the energy for it. He starts to unfurl himself. Leo checks again for any bruising he might have missed and is grateful not to see anything new. Without saying anything else, Leo holds out the bottle of water to him. Donnie, while still failing to glare at him properly, breaks the seal and takes a small sip at first, but it must trigger something in him, since he downs it in a matter of seconds. He wipes his mouth on the back of his hand,

“Thanks,” Donnie says weakly, handing the empty bottle back.

“No problem, bud. Do you need anything else? I have modified Tylenol, Germ-X, hand wipes—”

“I think I'm OK for now. Well, as OK as I can be.” Donnie turns to face forward again, this time resting his head on his arms instead of hiding his face, which Leo takes as a good sign. “How bad was it?” he asks.

“Um.” Leo pauses, unsure of how to answer in a way that wouldn't hurt him. “Made one hell of a mess, but we picked up the pieces. You scared the shell off Raph.”

“Crap, Raph was there.” Donnie presses his face into his hands. “I must have stressed him out so bad.”

“A little, but he stayed calm, gave you your space, and didn’t ask a lot of questions. You would have been really proud of him.”

“Really?” Donnie looks to him again and Leo can see the tension leave his shoulders. He almost smiles before it fades again. “Can, can you tell me what happened?”

Leo blinks, “You don't remember?”

“Not really. I remember being in my room, I had a huge headache trying to organize those stupid boxes, I had a cup of coffee in my hands. I tried to take down a box from one of the taller stacks but I lost my balance and—and it fell and knocked me over. Hit me in the head, covering me in coffee. I just, I guess I lost it.” Donnie presses his face back into his knees. “I’ve never had a meltdown so bad I couldn’t remember it afterwards. I—I think,”—his voice cracks—“I think I'm falling apart.”

Leo instinctively reaches his arm up to pull him into his side and has to stop himself, reminding himself that Donnie doesn't like physical contact, but Donnie tilts and curls up into his side with all his weight, almost sending Leo falling on his side. And, after just a moment of shock, he wraps his arms around him and holds him tightly. It's in these moments Leo knows his failings, lacking the right words to say to make the pain go away. But as he rests his chin on Don's scalp and looks around the room, a soft chuckle escapes him.

“Hey,” he says softly to catch Don’s attention. “R—remember when we were little? And this used to be the quiet room? I was so jealous ’cause even though Dad said it was for everyone, it was obviously made with you in mind and I didn’t understand why we needed it. And I haaaaated the idea of being quiet.”

“You also said you hated me.”

For a moment he’s not sure he heard him right and looks down to him. “I—are you sure? I said that?”

“Yeah, but you were just a kid. I think I had been going through your comics and it set you off. If it helps, if it had been the other way around and I caught you going through my stuff, I would have said worse. Or rather, written an extremely hurtful grammatically solid letter and had someone else read it to you. I wasn’t exactly communicating verbally at the time.”

“Right,” Leo says, not that it made him feel any better. But Donnie must have sensed that, since he shifts around without pulling free to dig around in his belt.

“You felt so bad afterwards you made me these.” In his hand rest two small faded green figurines with worn edges, one with torn purple fabric and the other with blue. Leo smiles softly.

“I remember that part.” With his free hand he nudges the purple one enough to make the arm swing, having lost the grip in its socket a long time ago. “Didn’t you make one for Mikey and Raph?”

“I did, but they were lost when...”—Donnie gestures to the lair—“I started carrying these with me when I felt anxious. It helped me calm down; at least, it used to. Then we lost our home again ’cause some chewed up gum looking aliens from a direct to video The Blob lookalike decided to invade our world.” Donnie jerks his hands in a moment of frustration, an angry tear peeking at the corner of his eyes. “I can’t keep doing this, Leo, I can't keep watching our homes, our lives, get upturned over and over again and be expected to go on with life. I’m not strong enough—”

“Hey.'' For the first time Leo leans away and takes Donnie by both of his shoulders. He doesn’t force eye contact, but this is as close as he gets to trying to get Donnie's full attention. “Struggling doesn’t make you or anyone weak. You think there’s medals out there for who can suffer the most, outside of reality TV? No! Dad always says that strength comes from helping and supporting each other. Are there people out there who see us cracking and think they see—see gold?! Maybe, but they don’t know us. They don’t see our family or the people who help hold us together.” Leo stops talking for a moment, and he takes a deep breath, far braver than he was before.

“I—I haven’t.” The trembling now has taken his voice, and it's noticeable enough for Donnie to look up at him. “I—I’m scared to sleep at night. I’m scared to the point where I’d rather stay up on nothing but pure spite and funny videos, because whenever I close my eyes, I see him. I see him, I feel his fists cracking.” Leo releases Don’s shoulders and holds his chest. He can still feel the outline of healing cracks that had once been barely held together with whatever yokai medicine Draxum made. “I feel the cold, Donnie. It was so cold there. And now, and now whenever I get caught in a cold breeze or open the freezer I just… choke,” he says, his voice breaking with a small sob.

Without hesitation, the arms of his most touch averse brother wrap around him. All the strength he had been trying to hold up for Donnie fails as he presses his face into Don’s shoulders. No tears but the trembling of terror as he clings to his brother.

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Donnie asks. “We’re your family. We would have supported you—”

“Because I saw Mikey and Raph going to therapy, I saw Casey adjusting to being a normal kid, and I saw you working hard. I thought, I hoped, I was the only one struggling, and if I ignored it, it would go away. It did when Mikey couldn’t sleep alone in his room and slept in mine for a few weeks. But it came back, and I know now that it's not going away on its own.” Another pause.

“We talked about this a while back; we made a deal that if one of us considered going to therapy, so would the other. I want to change that.”

Donnie shakes his head tiredly. “Leo—”

“I know you don’t want to go, and I’m not going to force you. But if you start going, so will I. And I’ll go with you to every one of your appointments, and you can go to all of mine if you want. Just so you know there’s someone waiting outside that room ready to support you. It doesn’t even have to be me! It can be Raph, or Dad or anyone you want. I’ll hire Jupiter Jim to go with you if that helps! And—and if you still feel like you need to come here to scream and vent, please tell me. I won't stop you. I'll come and we can scream together,” he says, hugging Donnie an inch tighter to him.

He’s not sure what to expect for a response. Then, Donnie lets out a weak, tearful “What if they tell me I was born wrong? What if they tell me I’m so damaged that they can’t do anything about it?”

“Well, first of all you have three—” Leo pauses. “Four brothers, three sisters and a former action star dad who will wipe the floor with any ableist piece of trash who says that. And if it's not the perfect fit, we’ll find someone who is. It doesn't even have to be forever; we can just go until we eat all the free candy they keep in the lobby.”

“There’s free candy?” Donnie says with a weak laugh.

“There’s always free candy. I actually got banned from going with Mikey to his appointments because of that. Then Splinter started going and he almost got banned ’cause he started fighting some eighty-year-old lady for the last red jolly rancher, and they had to call animal control an—” He stops when he hears a weak chuckle come from Donnie. And for the first time, Leo’s face lights up. “Hey, don't laugh! It was a fiasco! They had to call the fire department! Draxum had to come bail him out of jail. Jail, Donald!” he says with loud emphasis, gesturing dramatically with his free hand while the other’s still holding Donnie around the shoulders. “And worse! WORSE THAN THAT!!” he says even louder, to be heard over Donnie’s laughter he can’t smother with his hands. “He had the audacity, the AUDACITY, to wait till it was midnight to come to bail Splinter in his bathrobe, slippers and Starbucks. STARBUCKS, DONNIE!!! Like is there a bigger slap to the face than arriving late with Starbucks, Donatello!? I think not—”

“Stop stop—” Donnie wipes his streaming eyes with his hands. “Stop, I hate it when you make me laugh—”

“Only because it's one of the few times you admit I’m hilarious.” Leo grins before he finally lets himself laugh. He laughs harder than he has in a long time, leaving tears of laughter streaming down his face. And, as much as he doesn’t want to admit it, it’s nice to laugh in a place that had once held all their best memories.

Finally, what feels like too soon, their laughter fades into chuckles then ends altogether. And for a moment the pain and trauma feels far away.

“I’ll go,” Don finally says. “If you go.”

Leo smiles and reaches out, taking his brother’s hand into his. “Thank you for being the brave twin,” he says.

“Please,'' Donnie says with an eye roll, but he can’t stop smiling. He looks around Leo to the duffel bag. “So why do you have a duffel bag full of things I like?”

“It was something Mikey’s therapist thought of. It's called a Mental Health First Aid Kit. In case of, well.” He gestures. “Things like this. I helped him put one together for all of us. There’s even one for Splinter, April, Draxum, Casey and… Casey.” Leo blinks. “Yeah, that's going to be confusing. I even brought your weighted blanket if you needed it.”

“No, I don't want to fall asleep out here. I’ve done that too many times.” Donnie sighs as he closes his eyes, leaning again on his brother. As Leo resumes putting his arm around him, his phone lets out a chirp and he pulls it out. He lets out a sigh as he turns the screen so Donnie can see it.

“Dad’s home and wanted to check in with us. He says there’s no pressure but Raph can come pick us up with the Turtle Tank. He also said April can pick us up but giving, um, Future Casey’s driving and…” he let it drift off with an almost nauseous look on his face

“Yeah no, I’m not getting in the same car as him again. Never before had I been so grateful for a cop to try and pull us over.” Donnie lets out a shiver and Leo has to remember to ask for that story later (the only thing he knew was that Donnie and Future Casey had to push the car home in twelve different pieces that had somehow become infused in jello).

“Cool, and if you're ready, I can help you set up your new bed and you can sleep in your room tonight.”

“I,” Don pauses. “I’m not ready for that yet, but you can if you want. Maybe I can crash in your room for a bit till I am ready. And maybe it'll help you get a good night’s sleep as well.”

Leo’s mouth trembles for a moment as he smiles softly. “My hero.” he says.

It would be great to get rid of those heated blankets. Don scoots back and leans again into Leo’s side, pausing for a moment before digging into the duffel bag on Leo’s other side and fishing out the weighted blanket (he must have changed his mind). He gives Leo’s shoulder a small tug, an indication for him to lean forward to wrap one corner around his shoulders before wrapping himself in the other and sinking into his side again. Within moments, Donnie is back asleep and Leo leaves, enjoying the soothing weight of the blanket on his shoulders and his brother by his side. For the last time that day, he blinks back the fear that has been threatening to consume and breathes out with the realization that everything will be OK before drifting off as well.

(#)(#)\/(#)(#)

It's not till he hears the sound of footsteps that Leo realizes he’s fallen asleep. Jerking into a more upright position, he instinctively tightens his grip on Don, who is still waking up, and reaches for one of his katanas. But after a moment he recognizes the footsteps.

“Leo? Donnie?” calls out Raph,

“Over here!” he calls. Leo starts rubbing Don's arm with his opposite hand. “Wake up, bud, our ride’s here.”

“So that's why I smell Raph’s ‘driving after five PM’ stink?” Donnie asks groggily, wiping at his eyes and making Leo chuckle softly. The curtain flaps a moment later as Raph steps through. Leo has a split second to notice the anxiety in Raph's eyes fade as they fell on the two and he moved over, crouching down in front of them. He brings his hands up for a moment as though ready to pull them both into a hug right then and there but he takes a deep breath.

“Are you two alright?” Raph asks, eyes once again looking over them for signs of injury or distress.

“We’re as good as it gets. Near perfection but a different shade of green,” Donnie says with a half tired shrug.

“Th—that's great! That's good. Great—” with each positive affirmation Leo can see Raph mentally willing back the energy till it’s barely contained with his relieved eyes. But before Leo can say anything, Donnie reaches up and takes Raph’s bicep. Though he’s not nearly strong enough to move Raph, he gives a slight tug which gives Raph the direction, albeit confused look on his face, to scoot closer. Close enough to lean forward and give him a small one armed hug around the neck as he rests his forehead on Raph’s shoulder.

“I know Leo already told you, and you know I hate saying he was right, but you did a really good job today. I know it's hard for you to let someone else take charge when it comes to us. You’re an amazing older brother, and I’m just as lucky to have you in my life as I am to have Dad, Mikey and Leo. Never forget that.”

Raph looks over to Leo for a moment as though for verification. Leo gives him a small nod, which is all that is needed for Raph’s eyes to swell up with big Raph tears as he trembles. His arms go up to hug Donnie, trembling in a way that told Leo he was hugging with only a fraction of the strength he wanted to.

“I’m always here for you, Don.” Leo lets out a soft smile as he reaches forward and gives Raph a gentle rub on the shoulder as the two hold each other for a few moments. But as Donnie goes to pull away, Raph respects his wishes and does so as well, using his wrist to wipe at his eyes. But Donnie keeps a grip on his wrist for a moment, drawing Raph’s attention back to him.

“I—It won't be tonight, but I think there’s a lot we have to talk about, with Dad.” Donnie looks over to Leo. After a moment of hesitation, the red slider nods as well, giving him permission. “Leo does too.”

Leo gives a weak smirk. “Yeah, turns out memes aren’t a great coping mechanism.”

“No.” Raph wipes the last of his tears on his arm. “No, but we are good at being there for eachother as a family. And if you’re up for it, I can get you two home.”

“Sounds like a plan. Meet you at the tank,” Leo says. Raph gives them both one last look-over before ducking out of the room. Leo starts to pack up the duffel bag as Don rubs at his eyes. But as he goes to stand, his leg trembles before he falls back down. Donnie reaches over and catches him by the shell, but not fast enough to spare his elbow from the hard pavement.

“Ow jeez—”

“Are you alright?” Donnie asks, giving him the same overprotective look-over that Raph had given them.

“Um, yeah, I think so. I sorta ran all the way here and I think my perfect body is punishing me for it,” he says with a nervous laugh. Donnie’s eyes widen for a moment and Leo regrets saying anything till Donnie closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, and smiles.

“I’ll help you, dum dum,” he says, standing up and holding his hand out.

Leo smiles and takes it. The two of them are able to pull each other eac hother up to their feet, but as Leo’s legs tremble again, Donnie ducks underneath his arm.

“It’s OK, I got you,'' Donnie says. Leo wants to protest, but he can already feel his sore leg’s relief. So instead of pulling free, he puts Donnie’s arm over his neck as well and the two make their way out of the ruined remains of their former home.

They were not made of gold.

They were made of love.

#rottmnt #rottmnt fanfiction #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #donnie #leo #undercoverwizardninjaturtle #raph #tmnt #trauma #dont even think about it shippers #Raph is in this?! how can it be!#shut up dennis!

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heartslobbf · 2 years

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been watching some infinity train video essays recently and come across a common criticism of book 2 that has absolutely floored me because it demonstrates a fundamental lack of understanding about what book 2 even says about personhood and reality. i feel it’s relevant to point out that most of the people who have this criticism are also unaware or dismissive of the trans-coding of lake’s character, because like.... the critiques are a) ‘lake’s number being a reflection of jesse’s was a cop-out’ and b) ‘lake being a metal person in the real world doesn’t make any sense’. and it’s like.. you just watched an entire narrative about how arbitrary constructs of personhood designed to demean and marginalise people are Bad and Dumb and there will inevitably be people a system doesn’t accomodate for, who deserve accomodation on account of their existence, and your takeaway was ‘well they didn’t make the metal person a real person. they didn’t assimilate to the status quo in a bona fide capacity’. like what the fuck lol

to elaborate on what i mean; lake being a chrome person is an integral aspect of who they are and their journey is never a pinnochio-esque ‘i wanna be a real boy’ self-loathing misery-fest (book 2 said fuck your transmedicalism and also, hey, as a disabled person, nice). by book 2, lake is adamant that they are a person and merely wants to be treated as such. lake is treated as a second class citizen on the train because of arbitrary social structures designed to ‘maintain the balance’ between the prime and mirror world, as mace puts it. it’s a social construct presented as an innate, intrinsic truth of the world by corrupt authority figures; have i mentioned trans-coding yet? lake’s journey wouldn’t be anywhere near as impactful as it is if they constantly lamented the literal make-up of their being, if they had to relinquish a fundamental aspect of their all-important identity to ‘truly be a person’. like, lake is not Becoming a person; they are a person, and they’re escaping a system that falsely refutes that.

this is why lake’s number is actually a genius writing choice, and very definitley not a cop-out. lake’s number is created on account of their physical being, can literally only exist in the way that it does because lake is reflective. to be told ‘you are a reflection, so you can’t have a number’, and then get a number not in spite of being a reflection but because of literally being reflective..... trans-coding. and also the only way to do a meaningful narrative about personhood. any notion that lake is not already fully a person on account of.... you know, existing and stuff undermines every aspect of their character and it’s genuinely baffling to me that some people don’t get that.

like, it’s apparent that the train (an artificial construct) cannot give a denizen (social construct) a number (also a construct, but an important one in the social system). it literally starts collapsing in on itself when lake and jesse apparently invent t4t in the number car, because it has not considered how to accomodate for people who exist outside of a narrow scope or binary (haha). to have lake somehow (?? how would you even do this lol like tell me your alt ending if you’re gonna prattle this nothing criticism) Become a passenger and get their number that way undermines their incredibly powerful assertion, again and again, ‘i am a person,’ ‘i’m my own person who is getting off this train’. because that says that this fucked up social system is in some way objectively correct and lake has to assimilate to it, when it has been actively violent against them, and dehumanises every single denizen on the train. which we have been told the entirety of book 2 is innately bad.

and also, it adds so much to the jesslake dynamic that i think evidently goes over certain people’s heads. lake and jesse are both the titular ‘cracked reflection’, both attempting to establish a sense of identity independent from others, and that’s a big factor in their closeness and understanding of one another. jesse’s second number scrolls from irrational number to complex number back to irrational number (square root of two i’ll get to you) because his problem— which is in turn lake’s problem— has threatened and cracked the train’s rigid system. it cannot comprehend it. jesse and lake together essentially take a shit on the train because like yeah, lake’s number is ‘just’ a reflection, but that is literally the point. oh my god why can no one understand basic symbolism like throughout the show we see lake’s face reflected in their own hands and we go ouogfoghgou i seeeeee they don’t have a number on their hand so we see them instead, yes yes personhood and identity i see. but the second people see a reflection of a number they can’t grasp what is simple but powerful in its meaning????

lake is a person. because they are a person. number is ‘proof’ of personhood on train but the thing that we’ve always seen in lake’s hand is them, the reflection of a reflection, and that’s their personhood, and now they’re cheating the system with another reflection like hello!!!!!!!!! they’re not meant to assimilate into the system literally anyone who thinks that is stupid and shouldn’t be allowed opinions. i am so sorry but holy fuck book 2 was like ‘lake’s personhood is innate and has always been there and they do not have to assimilate into a cruel system to escape it nor do they have to relinquish who they are to obtain freedom because there is nothing objectively flawed about their personhood, only objectively flawed perceptions of them by others’ and some people were like ‘ok but. the gender binary is real obviously’ and it’s like did you miss the bit where we brutally murdered the two cops emblematic of... well, cops, and also arbitrary oppressive social structures that are peddled as fact. holy shit. book 2 sweetie im so sorry that cis people don’t understand you like i do.

just to expand on that point a little more analytically; i’ve seen some people say that they thought lake’s number was a cop-out because it was ‘cheating the system’, but you’re sort of meant to think that. the train’s system is innately flawed, this is something the show makes apparent throughout its books. lake is cheating a system they cannot legitimately win at. ‘well couldn’t any denizen just write a number on their hand and ask one-one for an exit?’ idk maybe. i hope some of them try it and succeed. the train is an arbitrary construct, it is conducted, its judgement is not objective or perfect. why the hell should lake play by the rules when the rules are literally ‘you aren’t a person lol <3′. you guys are spouting some alarmingly right-wing rhetoric if you posit arguments like these. ‘oh but one-one can’t be evil though :(’ i don’t think one-one is evil, i think he’s a mostly well-intentioned robot that doesn’t fully grasp the complexity of what he’s attempted to create a clinical system to ‘solve’.

final point: if you think lake should’ve like?? become flesh??? when they got off the train, first of all you hate comedy and second of all, read above. this is not pinnochio!!!!!!!! the only ‘problem’ with being a reflection is the artificial construct of what ‘being a reflection’ means, and lake has rejected that, and they’re made of chrome, and that’s a fact, and they consistently utiliise that aspect of their identity to further their journey to the point of their exit from the train literally being manifested via the reflective nature of their hand. they are disproving everything that everyone says about them not by rejecting that aspect of their identity but embracing it. ‘you’d just go into the prime world with your... metal skin and, what? high school? prom?’ yes motherfucker!!!!!! suck on it!!!!!!!!!!!! some of you need to work a little harder to um.... Understand what a text is saying, and Comprehend subtext. again, this is not pinnochio!!!! good god. fuck me.

#sorry for being grumpy but like....... Think #also for clarity's sake; being a reflection and being reflective r different things & the only reason being a reflection is bad is because #of how the mirror world social system dehumanises reflections and strips them of identity #like you could reflect someone as a job and then also have your own life...... mirror world communism arc when #jesse and lake reflect one another in many ways but unlike the other ways theyve been reflections in thier lives thats good #because they respect one another and see one another as fully realised people. like. hello #ok im normal now (lie) (i cant listen to people talk about book 2 because approximately 2% of people understand it)#anyway thank you owen dennis for good trans narrative it slapped v nuanced v complex saying all the things so many people often miss #how ironic audiences also missed them when theyre literally spelt out to them #infinity train #shut up daisy

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