Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The lights were flickering, blinking. Rapidly. Great. Just another thing he would have to fix.

He pulled out a notebook (because he could, he was far too tired to remember all of the things he still had to do), and added it to the list. Actually, he would probably have to get to it really soon. Better move it up to the top. He needed the lights of the lab to continue working.

But then the lights stopped flickering. And nearly a minute later, resumed doing the exact same thing.

Donnie blinked. Then blinked again.

What?

He rubbed at his eyes, and blinked a couple more times. He slowly brought his hands away from his face (he knew it was unsanitary, gosh of course he knew, it wasn’t like he reminded himself of it over and over and over again, especially when he really needed to be focusing on other things, like training, or a mission, or lord knows the things on his list-)

He couldn’t see. Had they gone out? That was logically the next step in the way things were going, but he swore one second ago that it had stopped and that it was fine. The light bulbs hadn’t shown signs of dying until 5 minutes ago, and all of them at once? That was odd.

Donnie lowered his head into his hands, and took a deep breath.

Please no more. Please. No more of anything. No more lights flickering, no more projects, no more voices in his head reminding him of things he didn’t need to remember just then, and especially not of his list. Soon to be lists, if he couldn’t just speed everything up.

He let out a loud, throat heavy sigh. It turned towards a growl at the end.

He shut his eyes as tight as he could, and pushed himself up from his desk.

The lights were back on. When? How?

He was losing it.

~~

He checked the security cameras later.

The lights had never swayed, never strayed from the task they had been assigned to do (unlike him, like he always did somehow.)

The lights had never flickered, and had certainly not died out.

~~

It was late. All of the lights were off in their home, every single one. Well, not counting Donnie’s lab, but he was pretty sure no one did. They were a constant.

It would have been bad if they had gone out. But maybe what was just as bad was that Donnie had seen them go out. But they hadn’t.

He was losing his mind.

And he didn’t understand that. How he could have been. He was young, and intelligent, and always at the top of his game. He had to be. Or he would be in deep trouble, and he didn’t want that, now did he? Nobody did.

So how could he be losing his mind, he asked, yawning as his bloodshot eyes finally got a chance to close, taking a long sip from his coffee mug.

~~

It was dead silent. He had returned to his sanctuary - his sanctuary and prison - and resumed his latest project. Mikey had been having problems with his T-phone, and Donnie was in a hurry to return it to him. He had other things to do, but Mikey had been persistent. Mikey had gotten on him, and then Leo had gotten on him (something about “Mikey not having a way to contact them if he was in danger”) and then Raph had screamed at them all to shut up.

So he had pushed all of his other projects (and there had been many, many of them, plenty that Leo constantly was on Donnie about finishing, truthfully, they were all rushing him to get them done) to the back of his mind. Moved this one little thing to the top, pushed all the other equally as important (and some probably definitely more important) projects to the bottom. Of, and you guessed it, his list.

Which also had become two lists. Because of course it had. It was just his luck, too.

He had his screwdriver in hand, using it to tap at all the wires. How much had his younger brother fucked up his phone? What had Mikey done?

He groaned in frustration, and took a large sip from his mug. But, he was met with nothing. Great, just great. Amazing. Peachy.

He placed the phone down (a lot harder than he had meant too), and willed his legs to carry him to the kitchen. Mug in hand, he focused on walking one step in front of the other. If he could just make it, make it to the caffeinated drink, he would be safe. He would be able to poison himself, drown himself in a drink that would altogether make everything worse. And of course he knew the effects the drink would have in the long run. He had spent countless hours of research on that as well, because he was worried about himself. He. He was. Not anyone else.

Just as he was about to give up, just as he was about to let his legs fail him and end up on the ground...he had made it. He had made it, and it was sad that caused a swell of pride to well up in him. That, but not everything else he had accomplished.

Sure, he had felt proud of himself in the beginning. For creating a stable food source for them, and making sure the lair had all the appliances it needed working. Back when he was young; too young to be assigned that role. The role that had never left.

But now...he didn’t exactly know why it was different. He was overworked, exhausted. Possibly - scratch that, absolutely - addicted to caffeine, coffee specifically, but it was the only way to keep him awake and not grumpy.

He didn’t really get that much appreciation for what he did, but had he ever. Donnie didn’t think that was what was different now, but there was always a possibility. There was always a possibility for certain things to happen. In every subject. In every situation. Even when you think something’s impossible, turns out it’s actually improbable.

Donnie had never been one to actively seek out praise. Yeah, he liked to be praised, but so did everyone. Maybe he subconsciously wanted the praise and that was why he wasn’t happy anymore with his assigned role? Eh, who knows? He might just contradict himself here and say that is actually impossible.

~~

Donnie didn’t stop working until he had finished that project. And then he proceeded to do more. Sleeping and taking breaks was time wasted. And it wasn’t like anyone else was there to stop him or to make sure he wasn’t fucking himself up even more.

Sucked for him, because next morning they had an early training session.

~~

Leo had asked Master Splinter if he could lead early morning training, and he had been granted that honor.

Now, he stood facing his three younger brothers who were awaiting what he was going to ask of them.

And what he said didn’t surprise them whatsoever.

“We will meditate, followed by a free-for-all.”

Donnie sighed. How likely was it that he would fall asleep while they meditated?

They all approached the blue clad turtle, who had been standing close to the tree in the dojo, and dropped to their knees. Splinter looked on, a proud smile gracing his features.

Leo easily drifted into a meditative state. It was always a question as to who would next. Depended on the day. Mikey got easily bored, Raph didn’t even care to try, and Donnie just couldn’t stop thinking. He never could. 

Meditation is similar to sleeping in that way. You have to focus on one specific thought, and you can’t let your mind wander. No wonder Donnie sucked at both.

Leo was alone in his meditative state for some time, before being joined by Mikey. Donnie had no idea how he ha- and there he went. Another stupid, annoying thought had accompanied its brethren.

Donnie took a deep breath in. Focus on something positive right now. That was another good way to get into a meditative state. Thinking of one thing, but the one thing being something positive.

He was positive this was pointless and he would never be able to do it.

He was positive he was going insane.

He was positive he was just procrastinating.

He was positive-

Okay, no more “thinking positive.”

Let’s think of something actually positive, instead of wasting time and hoping this ends soon.

Something positive...hmm...

He hadn’t fallen asleep during these last hard minutes. That was good. Actually, that was amazing.

But at the same time...

Not good. There was always a negative to every positive.

He really couldn’t sleep. Donnie couldn’t fall asleep while they were meditating, meditating for far longer than they should be. When he finally gets a break.

Damn. That was not good.

And now he was back to the negative talk. God, why couldn’t he just not be pessimistic for once in his life and...and actually be optimistic?

Mikey was always the optimist, Leo would usually be a realist, but if he wasn’t, he was also an optimist. Raph was similar to Donnie as he was a pessimist. Something may seem good, but it’s probably too good to be true.

Sometimes, Donnie likes that he’s a pessimist. If he’s thinking something will go wrong (and preparing for it as well) and the something does go wrong, he was ready for it. If it doesn’t go wrong and they win, he gets a pleasant surprise.

But now...it just made him sad. It made him feel useless. Those voices in his head saying those things just needed to shut the everloving fu-

Donnie could feel some kind of disturbance in the air. He peeked his eye open, and...

Wow. This was perfect. Truly perfect.

Raph had joined Donnie’s two other brother’s in their meditative state.

So now he was the odd one out.

Wasn’t that just great?

Splinter would probably notice soon and lecture him on the importance of meditation. Actually, what was Splinter doing right now?

Donnie took a risk and opened his other eye. To the left of Leonardo, Splinter was sat down on his knees. Donnie could tell he was in the same state his brothers were in. New York. Okay, now was not the time to make terrible jokes. 

But Splinter was meditating along with his brothers, and Donnie...didn’t know how to feel about that.

he couldn’t fail

he couldn’t 

usually leo would say things like that, being the leader and wanting to be able to lead them and guide them through things they weren’t good at

but

but

this time, it was donnie

he didn’t want to be left behind

he couldn’t and he won’t

he just had to push himself a little bit harder

not too difficult

he could still succeed

he would not fail

he would not

he couldn’t

he couldn’t make any more mistakes

he wouldn’t be a failure anymore

he would make them proud

even if it was by something as simple as meditating, which they had done countless times

time and time again

why wasn’t he good at it yet?

why?

he just didn’t understand, they had been meditating for years, so so many years, and leo had always been excellent at it, and donnie, raph, and mikey weren’t as good as him, that was how things went, but they had meditated so much and they still did, why weren’t they good at it now, why, why was raph and mikey so much better at it than him, it didn’t make sense, why, why, why, why

why were they meditating for so long

how long had they been meditating 

it’s been so long 

was this real

was he hallucinating again

no

please no

no no no no no no no no

~~

It felt like hours had passed while they (his brothers and father only, but they didn’t have to know that, and they wouldn’t, because they were focused on their meditation and only their meditation) meditated, but it had only been around one hour.

Leo broke out of his meditative trance (seemed a lot more like a weird trance than a state to Donnie) and told them that they were done meditating. Somehow that got through to the meditating turtles (but not Donnie’s struggle, although that was probably hard for his brothers to realize, his father was always good at telling when someone was having a hard time meditating, but Master Splinter was the farthest away from the purple-banded turtle).

The group collected their weapons, practiced with them a bit (getting a feel for them since last night), did some stretches as a warm up, and then turned to face each other.

And so they began.

If Donnie was being honest, this was the part he was worried about the most.

He felt as if they would all go after him for some reason.

Even though it was a free for all, they ended up in pairings that they often were in for sparring. Leonardo v.s. Michelangelo and Raphael v.s. Donatello.

Mikey tried to catch Leo off guard, but failed miserably. Leo had expected the attack, grabbed the nunchuck, and attempted to pull his younger brother down to the ground. But Mikey fought back, and wrenched the weapon out of his leaders hand.

Donnie couldn’t really pay anymore attention as to what was going on over there, because he needed to focus on his own opponent. Donnie was making jabs at Raph with his staff. Raph fended a couple off, but some still hit their mark.

Raph charged forward the second Donnie’s staff wasn’t in his way, and went in for Donnie’s torso. Donnie jumped back, and used his staff as a shield, spinning it around while Raph tried to knock it out of his hands with his sai.

Raph was saying something, but Donnie wasn’t paying attention. It faded into background noise.

Donnie could see he was wearing Raph out. He stopped spinning the staff, and aimed a kick to Raph’s side. Donnie was surprised when his leg was grabbed and he was flipped over. But he wasn’t done yet. He made sure he didn’t fall by doing a backflip (blame Mikey).

Raph was on him again with his sais. He had moved so quickly. Donnie took a few steps back to evaluate his opponent, and then a plan formed in his head. He smiled.

Donnie just went for a simple wack to the head. Merely brought his staff down on top of his older brother’s head. Raph hadn’t expected that, perhaps because it wasn’t the most ninja-like of moves or maybe because he thought Donnie wouldn’t use a cheap tactic like that.

Raph clutched his head for a few short seconds, before he seemed to realize they were still battling. Just in time too, as he blocked a jab from Donnie.

Donnie managed to make out one sentence of what Raph was saying. “This spars gone on a lot longer than any of our others.”

Good. Donnie wasn’t weak, and wanted to let Raph know that. He’d like to let Leo (and maybe even Mikey, honestly) know that as well. If Splinter was the father that he should have been, he probably already would have known, but perhaps Donnie would have to show him as well.

Donnie saw something come at him from the right side; he thought that maybe Mikey or Leo or whoever had won their spar had decided to surprise attack him. He stopped blocking Raph’s sais with his bō, and raised it into the air to protect him from whatever was coming.

Nothing was there. But...he could have sworn. He must have been hallucinating again, and in battle. Seriously. Not. The. Best. Time.

He turned back around to Raph, and was met with a weird look. So Raph had seen Donnie block nothing. That wasn’t embarrassing in the slightest.

There was a second pause, before they resumed what they had started.

After Donnie tried a few more jabs, Raph nearly got a hold of his staff. He knew from past experience that if Raph grabbed his staff from his hands, that he would snap it in half. So it was a good thing Raph hadn’t gotten it. He complained about the bō staff a lot, but it was better than no weapon at all.

Donnie really wanted to use his naginata blade, but he knew it was against the rules. They could give their challenger bruises, but making them bleed was something they cared to avoid. At least, during training with Splinter in the room. If later on, two of them entered the dojo to spar in their free time (most likely being Raphael and Leonardo), then they could bleed and cause harm with their sharp weapons. But not now.

There were slip ups, and sometimes they were allowed to. Not today though, as Leo was leading it for the first time.

So that was a no-go on the nagainata blade. Donnie could only use his ol’ reliable bō staff.

Donnie somehow managed to knock a sai out of Raph’s hand, and did his best to block Raph from getting it back. Donnie could feel the frustration rolling off of Raph in waves; his white eyes narrowed. His fist was clenched tight on his remaining sai. He was growling.

Donatello knew that he had made a mistake.

It happened so fast, Donnie couldn’t comprehend it. He had been blocking Raph’s remaining sai one second, and kneeled over on the ground the next. He held his arm as close to his side as his turtle body allowed him, a burning feeling generating from those areas.

It was hard to breath, yet he was hyperventilating. 

God, he hated this feeling. 

There was too much going on in his brain, he couldn’t focus on one thought. It was too much. Too bright, too painful. 

What had happened? 

How had it happened so fast?

Where was everyone?

...

Where was Raphael?

Donnie looked around the room. Mikey and Leo were still fighting, Splinter focused on them at the moment. Donnie looked over to the turtle facing him. Raph stood towering over Donnie (as he was on the ground, usually Donnie would be the one to tower over Raph), sai held tightly in his grip. His eyes were white and empty; the sai wasn’t coated with his blood, but the few drops staining the steel appeared that way to Donnie.

He needed to get up. Now. It was only two cuts (and although Donnie didn’t know how large they were, he’d find out later). In battles against Shredder and his henchmen, he’d get more than that. It didn’t even matter that it was Raph that had done it. That’s what he kept telling himself.

He slowly forced himself to his feet. A smirk appeared on his brother’s face.

Donnie had never seen Raph like this. Bloodthirsty. Rarely would he get like this around villains, wanting them to bleed, wanting them to die. He liked the fight, and would prefer for them to live so they could battle again.

Honestly...this Raph terrified Donnie.

With his staff in his hand, he faced his brother once more.

How had Splinter not seen what had just happened?

There was always the possibility that he had been watching Raph and Donnie spar before Raph had struck him, and then had switched to watch his other two brothers. Thus, missing Raph’s illegal move. Or maybe he just didn’t care. Or maybe he had spent the whole time watching Leonardo. Eh.

Raph had both of his sais back. Must have got it while Donnie was down.

Donnie’s first instinct was to take a step back, and that was what he did. Raph sneered at him as he did it. Challenging him. It was like he was saying, “Gonna run away or give up, like you always do.” That made Donnie mad. He grit his teeth. 

Well, looked like the fight was about to get real.

Donnie unleashed his naginata blade.

He could ignore the rules just this once.

~~

It was all a blur. All Donnie knew was that he was fighting for survival. Maybe he was being a bit dramatic, but he hadn’t cared at the time.

It was like a routine. But sometimes, the routine had to be switched up.

They went back and forth on who was on offense and who was on defense.

Deflect. Strike. Strategize. Dodge. Strike. 

It went like that; similar to that. Throughout the battle, the order would be switched in and new things would be added. 

They were machines. 

It was elegant. The way they fought was what it would look like if angels were to fight. The two of them fought for the fun of it. They seemed to be causing no harm, yet inflicting tons at the same time.

Donnie found out later on that Mikey and Leo had paused their sparring to watch, and Master Splinter had turned his attention to the two of them.

He had no idea how long they had sparred, and why Splinter had never stopped them. Even when it seemed like they had tired out, they had kept fighting.

-

It was a fight to the death. I angered him, and now he’s gonna kill me. I had knocked that stupid sai out of his hand, and now he was gonna make me pay. 

-

Why wasn’t he going down? He always went down. He would basically give up whenever we sparred. I’d grab that pitiful stick out of his hand and snap it in half. 

 

Why.

 

Wasn’t.

 

He.

 

Going.

 

Down?

-

And then...

There had been a sai shoved in his face; a foot on his torso. His side and arm weren’t the only things aching.

He had come to, out of whatever mindset he had been in. It was fuzzy, and he couldn’t quite remember.

The foot pressed harder and he let out a small whimper. One that only him and his attacker could hear. 

Raph’s white eyes vanished and were replaced by familiar emerald green. He lowered his sai, placed both of them back in his holster, and stepped off of his younger brother.

Donatello didn’t take the hand that was offered to him by Raphael.

He got up by himself, and tried to not show weakness. To not let anyone know how many injuries he had gained. He could see that Raph was doing the same. They had been ruthless in their fighting. No mercy.

Splinter had always taught them to show mercy.

That was only one of his teachings that they had dismissed in their battle.

Where was Splinter?

Where were his brothers?

Donnie turned away from Raph and found his brothers and Sensei staring at them. They each wore different expressions.

Splinter’s was the hardest to guise, which Donnie had expected. But he could guess that his father was most likely disappointed in him and his older brother. They hadn’t used his teachings, and had distracted their other two brothers as well. But maybe, under all of that, he would be proud?

They had fought like ninjas, and used stealth and other such things to their advantage.

Mikey and Leo had similar expressions. Both of their mouths were wide open in surprise. Although Leo’s expression showed something else along with it, but Donnie hadn’t known what at the time.

Donnie slowly approached his family, using all his strength to keep his face straight and his movements without wobble.

No one said a word. He could tell Mikey really, really wanted to say something; even he kept his mouth shut. It was eerie and didn’t feel right. As much and as often as Donnie would complain about noise levels, he didn’t like there being complete and utter silence.

Donnie stared at his father, younger brother, and oldest brother. They stared back. He could feel his older brother behind him, but couldn’t tell what he was doing.

With his bō staff in hand, Donnie left. He marched past everyone, and then and only then did he finally lower his third eyelids.

That ought to show them.

Chapter Text

In the silence of his lab (well not complete silence, there were plenty of small machines making gentle buzzing and whirring noises) he was able to reflect on past events.

Donnie had thought he was off-limits. It had always seemed like Raph had a silent promise with Donnie never to physically cause him harm. He would go after Leo in the dojo and hit Mikey (way more often than Donnie was comfortable with), but with Donnie it was more verbal. He would call him a nerd, or some other nickname he came up with in that twisted brain of his, and say something that was meant to be hurtful.

Raph had never given Donnie a bruise outside of the dojo. The worst he had ever done was slap him in the face. Once.

But then...whatever that was happened. And even though it had been in the dojo, Donnie had never expected to be that injured or to have to face Raph as terrifying as he had been.

Following training, Donnie sat alone in his lab and cared for his injuries. He knew that Master Splinter was completely capable of patching him up, but Donnie couldn’t face him yet. Next to Master Splinter in medical situations was Donnie, after all. He could easily handle this problem himself after studying all of the medical books he had stumbled upon.

Actually, there was a chance that Donnie was more skilled in that area than Master Splinter.

But, he wasn’t going to get into that now. That terrible side of this story. He would spare you. For at least a chapter...maybe.

He had cleaned and bandaged the nasty gash down his forearm (it probably needed stitching, but he didn’t care and would have to face the music for it later), and stitched up the large slash down his right side. Looked like Raph had caused more damage than Donnie had originally suspected.

Don cleaned the minor injuries and iced the bruises, and then he began to feel better.

He was sat in his lab chair, coffee mug to the right of him filled to the brim. In front of him was the toaster, broken in ways that Donnie was sure was impossible. No, no, only improbable. He had already come to the conclusion that hardly anything was truly impossible at an earlier time.

He had no idea where to begin. Mikey had been the one to bring him the twisted, broken remains of the kitchen appliance that used to make them breakfast. The orange-colored turtle hadn’t said a word, he had just gently placed the toaster in front of his older brother and left with complete silence.

Donnie hypothesized that Leo broke it. The toaster seemed to have some kind of vendetta against him. 

As much as he had hated it, Donnie wished that he could go back to meditating. It had been as much peaceful as it had been immensely stressful. When it had finally ended, the exhausted teenager had found it hard (incredibly) to force his eyes open. Oh, how he longed for sleep.

But sleep was a luxury he couldn’t afford. Not now. Not ever.

~~

It had been uneasy in the lair for the past few hours. Raph had called Casey to come over a mere two hours ago (‘cause he wanted to go out and trash some foot, purple dragons, anything; he knew Casey would be mad if he went without him), but he had never shown.

Now, Raph sat in front of their television that was currently playing reruns of Space Heroes. He wasn’t paying attention to it in the slightest. Chompy was sat on his lap and he mindlessly stroked the shell of the alien turtle, of course, being mindful of the spikes.

It was uncomfortably silent. Mikey wasn’t pulling any pranks or being annoying (Raph had seen neither hide nor tail of him in hours), and Leo had been meditating for the past thirty minutes, probably planning on doing it for a while longer. There weren’t even any explosions from Donnie’s lab, hardly any noises at all coming from the large room.

Donnie.

A blunt strike to the shoulder with the pommel of his sai. Twirl the dangerous weapon around and shove it into his face, the three prongs of the weapon inches from his enemy's throat.

After Donnie had made the dramatic exit, it finally registered with Raph what had happened. He ran from the room before anyone could say a word, but he wasn’t planning on following his brother.

He had run to his room, locked the door, and shoved something heavy against it. He didn’t know what, and he didn’t care. Raph had thrown himself onto his bed and had taken the sais out of their holsters.

There.

It was still there.

Red like his rage.

It looked as if his sai had just barely been dipped in red paint, but he knew better than that. His mind hadn’t fully been there when it happened, but he could guess what had taken place in the dojo.

Raph had thought that maybe he was seeing things, but he could swear that he saw something that didn’t belong on his brother. On his arm (forearm specifically) and on his right side.

It could hurt seeing blood sliding down your brother's body, knowing you were to blame for it.

~~

He knew that he should apologize to Donnie, or at least talk things out. But he couldn’t will himself to do it. He didn’t want to have to speak with anyone. Not Master Splinter. Not Leo. Not poor, poor Mikey.

Mikey was the baby. He shouldn’t have had to see what went down. Injuring villains like that was different. Injuring family. Legitimately injuring family. That shouldn’t have happened. He should have had more control.

Speaking from his heart (and he didn’t really do that, so this was heading towards a weird experience) he had enjoyed the spar. Donnie had actually tried and put up a fight, a challenge. Partway through, Raph thought he had him, but then his sai had been knocked from his hand.

How?

Sais were made to disarm opponents of their katanas or bō staff. Yet, Donnie had used his bō staff to knock the sai from his hand.

That was when he had really gotten mad. He’s pretty sure.

Uggghhh.

That was a stupid thing to get mad about.

He had fucking overreacted again.

Fuck.

Shit.

~~

Donnie stayed holed up in his lab. Mikey often complained about it - he missed his directly older brother - and Donnie secretly wanted to spend time with him... he kinda wanted to spend time with all three of his brothers. It just...wasn’t possible at the moment. 

Especially now.

He spent some time repairing the toaster (way too much time, seriously, how could someone mess a toaster up this bad, it would probably be better for him to make one from scratch). But now it was time for him to return it. Simple. Sneak into the kitchen and set it on the counter. No one had to know he had left, no one had to talk to him, no one would get mad at him...

No one would injure him further.

He hoped.

Donatello took the toaster and walked across his lab, the emptiness around him boring into his soul.

Oh, how he wanted company.

He opened the door with a loud screech and spotted the one person he absolutely hadn’t wanted to run into. Raph had turned around the second he heard the loud noise of the lab door sliding open.

They stared at each other until Donnie snapped out of it and rushed to the kitchen. He placed the stupid, stupid, stupid kitchen appliance down on the counter, and dashed back to his safe spot in this game of hide and seek.

Raph was nowhere to be found, and Donnie didn’t care.

He didn’t.

~~

Master Splinter had found him later and lectured him. It seemed he was truly fed up with Raph this time. Gee, what could be better than that?

Raph knew he had let his anger get the better of him and kept internally beating himself up about it; he didn’t need Splinter to tell him how much he had messed up. He knew, and he kept trying. He kept trying to control it, but sometimes he would slip up. Okay, most of the time he would slip up. He didn’t even know how he had originally gotten so mad, so angry, so full of rage. There had been nothing during his childhood that had caused it, and that was when it had first developed. He had just always been like this.

He hated it. He hated this. He hated himself. 

After suffering through his father's boring speech, he retreated back to his room.

He sat in front of his drum kit and beat his heart out. The drum was good for that. So was his punching bag, but he wasn’t going back there. He didn’t want to have another awkward encounter. Like before.

Why was he even acting like that?

Like he was scared of his own brother?

He wasn’t. Donnie should be the one terrified of him. And it seemed he was.

God, he was such a screwup.

He couldn’t do anything right. His fatal flaw and greatest strength was ruining everything again. It always, always did.

He didn’t spend too much time playing the drums before he could feel it failing. The drum was good at helping his anger, but the punching bag was better. Even better than that was beating up the foot or purple dragons, but where was Casey? 

He texted his friend again, urging him to come by the lair. He told himself that if his friend didn’t get there in 20 minutes, he was gonna head up without him.

Luckily, his friend did get there in 20 minutes, with time to spare. He had told Casey to come directly to his room and not to talk to anyone else. His best friend had been confused but followed his instructions anyway.

Casey sat down on Raph’s bed, while Raph paced his room. He had never been a pacer - and Casey knew - which confused the boy even further.

“Alright, Raph. What’s going on?”

“Huh. Is something going on?”

“I can tell. I know everyone enough in this family to know something is up.”

Damn. That’s right. For all his shortcomings, Casey was very aware of interactions between others. It was something about him that didn’t match up with the rest of him. He may not have the best intuition, but he paid close attention to what happened around him. Even if it didn’t seem like he did, he did.

Always.

Raph quit his pacing in the middle of the lap and turned to the human boy.

“I fucked up, man. Big time. Like, worse than I ever have before. The other times have been nothing compared to this. I ruined everything and I don’t-“

“Dude, you’re rambling. Calm down, and sit beside me.”

Raph sucked in a deep breath. He hadn’t realized he was rambling. He just really, really didn’t want to talk about this, but he knew he would have to. He didn’t want Casey to yell at him, and shout at him, and make him feel like shit. He already felt like shit. He could make himself feel like shit, and he already has, so no one else has to make him feel worse.

He thought he had already clarified this.

The turtle nodded and took a seat beside the human that would always listen to him. They didn’t really have deep conversations like this (both of them kept their emotions to themselves), but if they ever had to, Casey would be there for him. And Raph would be there for Casey.

“So...what did happen?”

Casey was pulling at his jeans. He was uncomfortable and curious. Raph had seen Casey do this only a handful of times, and he knew that was how the boy was feeling now. Honestly, Raph was feeling the exact same way. He was curious to see Casey’s reaction.

“Leo was leading early mornin’ training. We started out with meditation, and then we moved on to sparring. It was a free-for-all, and I was up against Don... It’s all actually kinda blurry. Maybe it’ll come back later.”

There was an awkward pause. 

“Well, go on,” Casey gestured with his hands for Raph to continue. He knew that Raph wasn’t telling the complete truth; that Raph remembered a little of what happened.

He took a slow, steadying breath, and resumed the story.

“It had started out as it always did. I thought that he would be really easy to beat, I mean, you know how easy it is to break his staff. But...for some reason...he wasn’t terrible...”

Casey perked up at that. “Wait, what did you say?”

“He wasn’t terrible. He was never really terrible to begin with, but he could never hold a candle to me. I don’t know exactly how long we had sparred, but I’m guessing it had been a good 30 minutes.”

“Huh. I’m impressed. I’ll have to go congratulate the genius or something.”

“No. No, wait,” Raph stopped him, “We aren’t done with the story yet.”

Casey stood up and made his way to Raph’s door. He stared at the mutant turtle and let a small smile flicker across his face.

“Yeah, I know. This sounds like it’s gonna be real big. Luckily, I brought beers. Imma get 'em.”

Casey left the room, and Raph stood up to begin pacing again.

How was he supposed to tell one of the only people that mattered in his life what had happened during training? How would he react? Would he go comfort Donnie? Their relationship had been getting better ever since the demon car incident. They still fought over April, but there was something different now. Raph didn’t know, and he didn’t care. Probably just being nicer to each other now that they had become friends.

He ran his hands down his face.

Why? Why had he even done that? He had asked himself that so many times today already, but he couldn’t help it. He just felt so much guilt, crushing guilt. It ate him up and he hated it. He said that a lot, and he hated a lot of things, but this was different than the other times.

He heard footsteps outside of his door, and he quickly threw himself back onto his bed. Casey opened the door, and Raph could see the bottles of beer held between his arm and his side, as well as in his left hand. Raph got up to take one from the teen and returned once more to the bed. Seemed like this would be a pattern.

Raph groaned, before opening the can and chugging the drink. He only got so far before he choked and broke out into a coughing fit. It had been a while since he had drunk an alcoholic beverage. He had forgotten how robust and bitter the flavor had been. Plus, it had burned the back of his throat.

Casey walked over to him and hit him hard on the back. Soon, Raph’s coughing fit ended, and the embarrassment took full effect.

“Uh...thanks man.”

“No problem.”

Raph cautiously took another sip from the can, and was met with the same bitter taste. He forced the drink down, and then came the aftertaste. It was a sweet flavor this time. It usually depended on the beer whether the flavor would be sweet or bread-like.

He sat back down on the bed and Casey joined him. He opened up his own can, and didn’t make the same mistake Raph had. Casey sniffed at it, and then took a small sip. After he swallowed, he took a larger sip.

“Okay Raph, sorry for interrupting the story. Continue.”

And here they were again.

Raph took another sip of his beer, before proceeding with the tale of his fuckup.

“Umm...during the battle at some point he managed to knock one of my sais out of my hand, and that...is where it gets bad. I got really mad, and I’m pretty sure I stabbed him with my sais. Which is, of course, pretty hard to do because they’re blunt and uh…”

“Dude!”

Casey’s mouth was agape, wide open. His beer can was clenched a little tight in his hand, and one of his legs was jiggling up and down.

“Is he okay?!”

“Hmm...oh, oh yeah, Dee's fine. I think? He seems fine.”

Casey’s face softened and his grip released on the can. He stopped jiggling his leg (Raph was assuming he had been subconsciously doing that because he was interested in Donnie’s condition).

“There’s more. That was when it really got fuzzy. We started battling for real, using stealth and our full strength. Apparently, Leo and Mikey stopped in the middle of sparring to watch us. Seriously. Mikey had been just about to hit Leo when he turned to watch us. Leo noticed, and turned as well. And of course, Splinter was watching. They were all so impressed and surprised. I have no idea what was so impressive, or what we really did.”

“Man, that is fucked up. But, it also sounds really cool. There more?”

Raph thought for a moment.

“Not really. I’m just not really speaking with anyone at the moment. Donnie doesn’t seem to be either. Master Splinter lectured me, and everyone has been giving both of us a lot of space. Oh, and I won the spar. Not important but...heh...I’m proud of it anyway.”

“Congrats! Maybe you should speak first to them though? I don’t see why Leo and Mikey would be mad at you or trying to stay away from you. Unless...they know what happened?”

“Nah. They don’t know what I did to Don. And I want to keep it that way! Got it. I don’t need no punishment.”

“Yeah, yeah. I hear ya.”

“Good. Ready to head to the surface?”

“Let’s finish these beers first.”

“Oh yeah, right.”

~~

Donnie had hid out as long as he could before he was forced in front of his Sensei. He really thought that he could avoid it all. He was naive and stupid.

Master Splinter had immediately noticed the bandages on his arm and the one strapped across his torso covering his side, and had raised a questioning eye. Donnie had said it was nothing. Splinter hadn’t believed him. Donnie knew that he didn’t believe him, but Splinter hadn’t said anything and had let the lie go.

He began his lecture by asking the turtle why his naginata blade had been out. Donnie cringed, but couldn’t come up with a good answer. Even with an IQ as high as his, he would often fail to come up with solutions.

Splinter reminded him of the many lessons that he had taught them over the years, to always show mercy and that a ninja was not supposed to cause harm unless it was truly necessary. So Splinter had noticed how ruthless they had been. Huh.

It seemed that Splinter had also noticed that Donnie had a tough time meditating. Donnie lied and said that he was just having an off day. It wasn’t a complete lie. He knew that Splinter could probably guess he hadn’t told the whole truth. He might get in more trouble later, then.

Master Splinter assigned him extra training (the family would train again following dinner, and Donnie would have to stay behind after it was over to have a one-on-one training session with his father).

Donnie thanked his lucky stars that happened to be the only punishment he had received. Now to get back to his lab and work on the things on his list. Oh yeah, right. Lists.

“Donnie, something’s wrong with the TV remote!”

He sighed in defeat.

~~

Donnie placed the TV remote front and center on his desk, right in front of his lists and scrap metal he had been toying with. He estimated that he would probably be able to finish fixing it in an hour, possibly less, but longer if he upgraded it. Which was a thing he liked to do for some reason. Although, he might never get it done because he kept getting distracted. He credited that to his lack of sleep. Based on the current time, he hadn’t slept in around 36 hours.

But it was fine. Totally.

Only 15 minutes until it was time for training. He kept telling himself he was ready, that he was fine. He repeated it like a mantra in his head as he sorted through the inner workings of the remote.

He yawned and resisted the urge to drink from his mug. There was such a thing as too much coffee, plus, it was mid-afternoon. He really needed to reserve the coffee for late nights and mornings only.

Oh. It was time for training already. That had been fast.

Donnie got up from behind his desk, but not without yawning again. He rubbed his eyes, grabbed his staff, and ran to catch up to his brothers that were each slowly making their way to the dojo.

Mikey spotted him first.

“Donnie!”

Mikey jumped over to his older brother and began walking in time with him. Donnie couldn’t hold in his eye roll.

“Hi, Mikey,” he said, with much less enthusiasm than his own name had been said with.

“Hey, remember what you did earlier? Could ya’ teach me?”

He spoke in a quieter volume than he usually would, so he must not have wanted Raph and Leo to hear him. Hmmm.

“We’re already being taught. By Master Splinter. And he’s far better than I am.”

“But...this is about specifically what you did earlier. And you could also teach me. So, how about it?

“No.”

“Awwww.”

What specifically had Donnie done earlier? He hadn’t thought it was anything special, but Mikey seemed so amazed by it. Donnie had thought he had used the lessons taught to him by his Sensei in a battle. What more than that could have happened?

Donnie patted his little brother on the back of his shell as Mikey groaned, and took larger strides. Both to avoid having to communicate with his family, and to get to the dojo as fast as possible. Luckily, he could easily walk faster than all of his brothers. It would come in handy one day, he just knew it. Today was not gonna be that day. Or the next. But one day.

He needed to stop this. Thinking. Especially if it was useless stuff like this. If he kept getting trapped in his own mind, this whole thing (life) was going to be really hard.

He just wanted to get this over with. This as in training. Not life. Although...

Back on subject.

He briefly wondered what Master Splinter would have them do. Not anything new, tomorrow seemed likely for that. They might practice old material or something of the sort.

Soon enough, the four brothers were all bowing in front of their Sensei.

“Today, we will be working on our katas. Everyone stand at least two feet apart from each other, and prepare to replicate my actions.”

The turtles followed his instructions precisely, and all tried their hardest. Leo was the best, as he often practiced the katas that Splinter had taught them. Some of the ones they were replicating were new, but he still picked up on them extremely fast. Raph wasn’t too bad, and Mikey would be good if he just paid more attention and didn’t get so easily distracted.

Donnie was trying to focus as well, but his head was buzzing and he didn’t have the motivation for it. He think he faked it well enough, though.

Two hours later, they had finished their required training. Following the katas, they had done some intuition practice. They took turns standing in the center of the room and intuiting when the others were close to them. No one was allowed to attack; the turtle in the middle was supposed to dodge the hands of their brothers that tried to tag them. In fact, they had laid their weapons to the side for this exercise.

Once the two hours were up, his brothers were dismissed and left to do their own things. 

It was time. Time for extra training. His punishment that he rightfully deserved. Right?

But there was something up.

Why was Raph still here?

“Donatello, Raphael. Both of you are here for extra training after the events of morning training earlier today.”

Raph looked pissed. Seemed like he hadn’t known about this either. That it wouldn’t be solo training. Donnie didn’t know what to think. The buzzing had calmed down into background noise, but it was still there. Didn’t seem like it was gonna go away. Fair. He deserved it as well, honestly.

“It would be best if the two of you practiced meditation, as there is always room for improvement and I have noticed you are weak in that area. I would like to personally witness your own individual ways of entering a meditative state. And provide advice and assistance, of course,” Master Splinter continued.

Donnie wanted to argue, but there was no point. Master Splinter was right. And it didn’t seem like such a bad thing, but what if Donnie did fall asleep? Unlikely, but plausible. He’d get punished further probably. Maybe another lecture. Maybe someone would finally notice he wasn’t okay. But, yet again, unlikely.

Raph’s hands curled into fists, but surprisingly, he was the first one to walk towards the tree. He even got there before Splinter. 

After Donnie finally made sense of what was happening, he joined his father and brother.

Meditation. Again. Yippee.

He had brought this upon himself.

Was it better, or worse than working in his lab? Fixing something that his brothers had broken for the millionth time or squatting in front of a tree and meditating alongside his father and his brother that he wasn’t on good terms with right now?

It was a roll of the dice, honestly.

They were both bad, and he would prefer avoiding both of them entirely.

He couldn’t, so he’d choose the meditation one. But it really didn’t matter, as once this was over he’d have to return to his lab anyway. 

His brothers and father would never be able to guess he wasn’t happy working in the lab, in contrast, realizing he wasn’t happy meditating would be plain as day. Donnie wasn’t so much projecting the feeling, as he knew there wasn’t a good enough reason to. What was the point of showing he was unhappy when he and nobody else could fix it?

He stifled a yawn and tried to meditate. He really tried. He almost succeeded too, but then something finally made sense to him.

Leo’s facial expression after Raph and Donnie’s fight.

He knew what it meant.

And that would mean a talk with his big brother. 

That would be fun.

That was sarcasm if you couldn’t tell.

It would be more fun than this, that was for sure.

~~

He looked back at the retreating forms of his two older brothers as he left the room, and was thankful he wasn’t joining them. They would probably both explode when they realized they would be having extra training together.

Mikey followed Leo out of the room and plopped down onto the sofa beside him.

“Hey, Leo.”

“Mikey.”

That was what he called a greeting? Saying a name in a flat tone?

“It’s been kinda gloomy here lately.”

“Yeah, it has.”

He was making it really hard to conversate. Was it conversate? Was that the word he was looking for?

Didn’t matter. Whether that was the correct word didn’t matter. He just wanted to cheer everyone up.

“Ya know, I haven’t pulled a prank in a while. Maybe I shou-“

“That wouldn’t be a good idea. Not with the tension that’s been between everyone, most notably Raph and Donnie. It would be best if we...”

Mikey drowned the rest of what he was saying out, as he often did. One of his rules of life was to ignore Leo and Donnie if they went into leader or scientist mode. Not on purpose, it just ended with his head hurting. And it wasn’t worth it. He learned a little bit sometimes, but most times he would end up bored and with a headache.

“Yeah, yeah, you’re right. I’ll be right back.”

Mikey leapt from his seat and slid across the floor in the direction of his and his brother's bedrooms.

Leo sighed at a loud volume, and it was obvious that he had intended for Mikey to hear it. Probably realized that Mikey hadn’t listened to what he said. He might apologize for it later, but he had come up with an idea.

Pranks. It’d bring some happiness into their dismal environment. And he knew just the prank he would play on his unsuspecting victims. One of them was suspecting though, but even Leo wouldn’t be able to avoid Dr. Prankenstein!!

He entered his room -  the one in the back on the right side - and grabbed something from his hidden stash. He took the rubber latex balloons and navigated through his childhood home to the kitchen.

Michelangelo made sure that Leonardo didn’t see him.

Gotta keep it a secret, after all.

That was the point of a prank. It had to be unexpected.

(Shh, Leo had no idea that he was planning to prank them. What do you mean he does?)

He made sure to fill all of the balloons up with water and to fill them completely. If he was gonna prank them, it would have to be top-notch. 

It would have to be THE best prank EVER!!!

Yeah, it wasn’t going to be. He was going old school with the water balloons, and he had already pulled this prank millions of times before. Which was good in this situation, as they would remember past times he had pulled this prank while they got hit in the face by balloons filled with water. They would reminisce on times when they had been closer as a family and there wasn’t any awkward tension or tempers constantly being tested.

Mikey noticed, oh yes he had. He chose to ignore it and focus on the positive because he hated to see arguing and people’s feelings getting hurt. He liked it most when everyone was chill and just hanging out. When Raph wasn’t hitting him or angry, when Donnie actually spent time with the family, and when Leo was carefree and could let go of his serious attitude and be a teenager. They would smile, and laugh, and goof around. That hadn’t happened in a while, but he kept his hopes up. 

It was in his nature to dream and hope and wish...

After he had finished with the balloons, he opened the freezer to check on his best friend.

Don’t tell his brothers that they were second to a cat.

Ice Cream Kitty was just sitting there; it seemed she had heard him and was waiting for him to open the freezer door. He scratched her in her favorite spot - behind the ears - and leaned closer so that he could speak to her.

“Hey Ice Cream Kitty! Are you happy in your little freezer? I wish I could join you. It’s been rough out here, kitty. It’s tense and awkward and two of my bro’s are acting weird. Even for them. But, I have a plan! I’m gonna cheer them all up by playing a prank on them, one that they won’t suspect at all. Ya’ think it’s a good idea?”

She purred and rubbed her head against his outstretched hand.

He would take that as a yes.

“Well, better close the freezer before you melt any. Wish me luck on the prank.”

He scratched her once more behind the ear for luck, and she let out a meow as he closed the door. He couldn’t understand everything she said (even though he always acted like he could), but he could tell she had wished him luck.

With a smile on his face, he picked up as many balloons as he could carry, and sprinted to his bedroom. Leo turned to look at him as he did, but Mikey shielded the balloons from view. As he had planned, Leo lost interest and turned back to the TV that was currently playing an old episode of Space Heroes.

Of course it was an old episode. That weird sci-fi show had to be around a century old by now. All episodes were old episodes.

He would sometimes wonder why Leo loved the show so much, and why Donnie had no liking of it whatsoever. Seemed like more of Donnie’s thing, but Mikey knew Leo as well as a brother could possibly know their brother, and understood how Leo could like it. And he could understand why Donnie didn’t like it as well. He just wondered what the specific reasons were for why Leo loved it and why Donnie didn’t care for it.

Mikey let out a loud guffaw as he slammed his door shut in triumph, and hid the balloons he had carried all the way from the kitchen under his bed. 

He thought it was a pretty adequate hiding spot.

It wasn’t like anyone in this family was going to creep into his room when he himself wasn’t in it.

Mikey slowly opened the door, just enough so that he could see out of it. The coast seemed to be clear, so he opened it fully, and stepped out.

He still had more balloons to retrieve. The balloons that he had left just sitting on the counter in view of anyone that entered the kitchen. Oh no. He had pulled a Mikey.

He was mad at himself for even thinking that last sentence. It was Raph that had first used his name as a verb, and now his brothers would use it if anyone made a dumb mistake. It hurt his feelings deeply, and he complained about it every time it was said, but they didn’t take him seriously. They didn’t know it hurt him as much as it did.

Mikey dashed into the kitchen with his short legs and was relieved to find the balloons untouched. It didn’t look like anyone had been in there either.

Just to make sure, he sneaked a look at Leo. Leo was sat in the same position as before, but what was his hand doing behind his ba-

Smack!

Leo lightly chuckled when the balloon came in contact with Mikey’s head and began laughing even harder as the rubber remains slid down his face. Now Mikey was soaked head-to-toe (only his face actually; he just wanted to be dramatic). But it was worth it to hear Leo’s laugh, to see him smile big and wide for the first time in what felt like forever.

~~

“You won’t tell Dee and Raph my plan, right Leo?”

“I’ll join you if you want me to.”

“Really? That’s so unlike you.”

“Hey! Just...get me some balloons. We’ll attack them when they leave the dojo after training.”

“Aye aye, Captain!”

~~

Master Splinter kept giving him advice, telling him ways that he could improve in regards to his meditation, but none of them worked for him. He couldn’t meditate and not even his Sensei could help him.

At least he wasn’t alone. Raph was having a difficult time too, and Donnie could tell that Master Splinter was working a nerve on the turtle in red. He didn’t know whether his father had noticed yet, but if he hadn’t, it wouldn’t be long until he found out.

Donnie growled as he came out of the meditative trance that he had been in for a maximum of 30 seconds. He was frustrated with himself and his inability to concentrate. The buzzing had returned (he had suspicions that it had never disappeared in the first place) and it seemed (at least, to him) to be a symbol of his failure.

The longer he sat there, the more he realized he was exhausted. He had hidden every yawn that had escaped his mouth, but he didn’t know how long it would be before he couldn’t contain it and his brother and father noticed.

He knew the effects of not sleeping. Some of the effects had already revealed themselves to him, actually. Lack of alertness, excessive daytime sleepiness (that went along with frequent yawning), and irritability were just a few examples. And of course, the hallucinations. He hadn’t even been awake without sleep for that long, but they had already arrived and made themselves known to him. Delightful.

He had a headache as well, which he knew the cause of. He never thought that he would say this, but he needed to stop it with the sarcastic comments, as they had reached an annoying level and had given him a headache.

Was he going to stop? 

If he knew himself, probably not.

But did he know himself?

He was trapped in his mind again, and he just wanted to be let out. Stuck in a cage with no lock; there wasn’t even a door. No light was let in, and he was all alone. It was freezing, which somehow made the silence and how alone he was that much more obvious.

Even his weird metaphors hurt his head, and oddly enough brought him back to the present.

Master Splinter was standing over Raph, giving the turtle advice on meditation like he had said he would. Raph kept his head bowed, and Donnie could see something that Splinter could not. Raph was grimacing and his hands were clenched. This was a normal Raph pose, and Donnie knew that he would never do anything to Splinter, but he also knew that Raph would do something. Eventually.

God, he wasn’t prepared for this.

He just wanted his coffee.

He had left the mug sat in his lab; he couldn’t remember if it had drink left in it or not. Even if it did, it would be cold by now. He’d probably get another cup later. Three cups already.

Yeah, he definitely had an addiction.

He could feel his hands flex open and close even now, begging for the feel of the cup in between his fingers.

It was just another thing his brothers and father didn’t realize. Just another thing they didn’t realize Donnie was going through. Just another thing they didn’t realize was as bad as it was.

And Donnie was mad. The snaking feeling had snuck up on him, and he didn’t realize he was mad until his throat had closed up and his hands were clenched. He briefly wondered if Raph had noticed the change in Donnie’s body language, but dubbed it unlikely.

Everything around him was blurry (blurry for a different reason this time), blending together. He couldn’t tell what was what, or where the other mutant turtle and mutant rat were in the room. 

He was mad. Mad in the angry sense and mad in the crazy sense.

He was frantically livid, for reasons he didn’t know and even if he did know, he didn’t care.

But he just sat there.

He just sat there, and no one noticed.

~~

Raph still thought this was stupid and completely unfair.

Leo and Mikey were fucking around outside of the dojo, while he and Donnie were stuck in here. He didn’t even see how what they had done warranted this bad of a punishment.

He played along though, because he couldn’t afford to be grounded even worse.

He got mad - of course he got mad - but he managed to control it. Finally, he managed to do something right.

Master Splinter helped him with his meditation, and he was really thankful for that. He was pretty sure he didn’t improve noticeably, but he felt as if he improved. And that was the important thing. He knew he was weak in meditation, and intuition, and a lot of things involving the spiritual plane. Any improvement was a good thing, even if Raph would be the only one who could tell.

He was oddly enjoying this. It was quiet, not always a good thing but not always a bad thing. Mikey wasn’t being annoying, Leo wasn’t being smug or ordering him around, and Donnie was completely silent next to him. Speaking of Donnie...

Master Splinter was saying something to Raph as he was in between meditating cycles, and he was listening, he was, he swore, but only partly. Donnie was beginning to scare him, and Master Splinter wasn’t even noticing.

Donnie’s hands were curled into fists, his wide eyes much more red than brown. His pupils were smaller than normal and his teeth were grit in a weird kind of smile, but Raph knew that he wasn’t happy. It was something else.

Master Splinter never noticed.

And now that Raph thought about it, he didn’t notice a lot of things that went on involving them.

They stayed in there until an ungodly late hour, and Master Splinter never noticed Donnie’s off body language.

They did things other than meditation (because forcing them to meditate for around 5 hours straight would be torture, in Raph’s expert opinion), and every now and again Donnie’s body language would right itself, but his father never noticed.

Raph stopped paying attention to it to focus on the extra training, but he couldn’t help glancing over at Donnie every now and again.

They should have stopped long before 2 in the morning (they never trained longer than that [even as a punishment] they missed patrol, and they should all be in bed), but they didn’t.

And Raph was pissed, as should be expected.

He had done a good job hiding and controlling his rising anger, but now he just wanted to leave. He wanted to shout at Splinter that it had been too long and he was lucky that Raph had stayed after at all. 

But, he remembered the words that Splinter himself had told him that helped to calm his anger.

Let the words wash over you...like a river over a stone...

In this case, not words. More like the feeling of anger. Let the feeling of anger wash over him, like a river over a stone.

He made it through and didn’t cause a problem. Neither did Donnie.

The two of them walked out, side-by-side, but it wasn’t awkward. Well, it kinda was. Donnie was completely zoned out, so it wasn’t as awkward as it could have been.

They had barely crossed the threshold into their living room when something cold and wet hit Raph square in the head. He growled, pulled the rubber off of his head, and rapidly looked around the room for Mikey. He knew it was Mikey. It was always Mikey.

What he hadn’t expected to see was Leo...helping him.

He growled again, and stomped over to the duo.

Donnie just stayed standing in the same spot, arms held limply at his sides, slouching and staring into oblivion. Raph let him be. Mikey and Leo had chosen to completely ignore him and were instead focusing on Raph. Jerks.

Mikey aimed for him again, and Raph grabbed the balloon from the air and crushed it in his fist. His hand got wet, but it was worth it just to see the look of pure terror on his youngest brother’s face.

In Raph’s haste, he had forgotten about Leo. And he paid for it, with a balloon to the gut. His plastron protected him, but his pride was still wounded.

It was two in the fucking morning and these two idiots were playing a prank on him, most likely one that was also intended for Donnie, but it didn’t seem that way now. The most important thing though was that it was two in the morning and after an exhausting training session and Raph had already been mad. Two in the MORNING. What the shell, man!

Leo aimed another balloon at Raph, but it didn’t matter. Raph was already on top of him...basically.

Raph tackled Leo to the ground, but jerked his head back behind him when he heard another water balloon come in contact with something...or someone. It wasn’t with him, and Mikey and Leo were the two with the balloons, so that meant...

Yellow rubber slid down Donnie’s face as he seemed to finally come back to earth. He was confused for a few seconds, but then it appeared he had realized what happened. And he wasn’t happy. Obviously. Why would he be happy?

Raph could tell he was angry, angry in a way one wouldn’t immediately assume was anger. Mikey and Leo probably wouldn’t notice and would celebrate their victory, but Raph had noticed. A time or two before he had used this tactic as well.

Leo pushed Raph off of him and Mikey bounded over to his oldest brother, quickly tackling him in a hug. Leo let him, although begrudgingly, as he wasn’t completely insane and had noticed it was two in the morning.

“Mikey, get off me.”

“Nah dude, let’s celebrate! Our plan worked!”

Donnie calmly and quietly approached them, the remains of the balloon clutched tightly in his hand.

Mikey looked up at him and didn’t seem to notice anything off about Donnie’s body language. Nobody seemed to notice anything. Especially not the small things.

Also, what the fuck was up with Donnie?

He was a lot more irritable than normal.

“Hey Dee! Ya like the prank?”

“Oh yes, Mikey. Excellent job.”

Donnie’s voice was off and he didn’t sound like himself. At least someone else finally seemed to notice something was up. Granted, it was Leo and not Mikey, but still.

“Donnie, you okay?”

“Yep. Okay is a word you would use to describe me right now.”

Raph could hear a hint of sarcasm in his words, but maybe it was just him.

“Good. We should all go to sleep so...hey, no lab right now! I said it’s time to sleep.”

Donnie straightened up so that he reached his full height, and slowly turned around.

“Leo, it is time for bed. You’re right. I’ve just got to check something real fast. I’ll be right there.”

Raph had forgotten how terrifying Donnie could be when he was mad. There was a reason they avoided entering his lab while he worked, and that was because he didn’t want anyone bothering him or touching his stuff. And if you did, be prepared to be in a world of pain. Okay, not really, as Donnie didn’t often get physical, but be prepared to feel like absolute shit.

His red-colored eyes and large height only added to the intimidating sound of his voice.

Mikey was looking anywhere but at Donnie, Leo looked like he was trying to think of a good reply, and Raph had given up. Doing what Donnie and Leo had both said sounded like a great idea.

“Sleep sounds amazing. See you guys later.”

Raph headed to the washrooms first and as he did, he heard running footsteps behind him.

“Run, run,” Mikey whispered, nearly tripping over his own feet as he ran. Leo was right behind him, but his face showed nothing but calmness. Raph knew that Leo wasn’t calm right now. He was anything but calm. He had a big ego, though, when it came to that stuff, so he would pretend he was fine until he felt like he was actually fine. Fake it ‘til you make it. Yeah. Sounded dumb. But it worked, and Raph knew it. He didn’t like to admit it, but Leo’s strategy worked remarkably well, better than everyone else’s in times of trouble.

Mikey shoved past Leo and Raph to get into the washroom. Raph sighed and turned to his only older brother.

“So, found out the consequences of your actions yet?”

“What...consequences? Donnie...doesn’t scare me.”

“You’re panting,” Raph pointed out.

Leo scoffed, and crossed his arms. Another turtle mad? And it had only been less than five minutes? Was there gonna be another fight? Raph wanted another fight as much as he wanted to sleep. He’d take either one, honestly. Maybe both.

“Yeah, from...the workout I just had. I was only running because it was time for my morning run anyway, so...yeah.”

“Really?”

He was definitely lying. Raph didn’t even have a hunch, he just knew. Leo never was the best liar.

“Did you fail to convince him to go to bed?”

“M-maybe.”

“Nice job, fearless leader.”

Raph walked towards his bedroom door; he could clean up tomorrow. He just wanted to put this day behind him and sleep.

Sleep sounded nice.

~~

Chapter Text

Contrary to popular belief, Donnie actually tried to go to sleep. He did what he told Leo he would; checked something in his lab real quick, and headed to bed.

After taking off all of his gear and his mask, he laid in bed and stared up at the ceiling. He could hear someone in the washroom, but he didn’t know and didn’t care who it was. A sound Donnie didn’t recognize was coming from one of his brother’s rooms, but other than that, it was completely silent.

It was silent enough that he should have been able to fall asleep.

But he couldn’t. He wrapped the blanket tighter around him and flipped the pillow over. He turned, and turned, and turned trying to get comfortable. He sat up and paced and then tried to go to sleep again.

No matter what he did, no matter how long he sat there completely silent with his eyes closed, he couldn’t sleep.

Whoever had been in the washroom had left ages ago and the sounds had ceased from his brother’s room. The only sound he could hear was his own quiet breathing.

Maybe an exercise would get him tired?

Donnie got redressed in his gear, including his purple bandana. He tiptoed over to the door and opened it as quietly as he could. Being a ninja, this wasn’t a daunting or a difficult task. He snuck around his home until he was standing in front of the large oak in the dojo.

He took a bō staff from it’s place on the wall, then reached behind him to slip it through the loop attached to his belt. He did a few warm ups (squats, crunches, basic stretches) and hydrated himself, before preparing to travel up to the surface.

Everything was still quiet, and this time it was a comforting quiet, unlike earlier.

Donatello followed their well-traveled path to the surface, and hid his tracks by recovering the sewer entrance with the manhole cover.

Nothing will happen. Nothing bad will happen while you’re up here by yourself and no one knows where you are. You are fine and will stay fine.

He was lying to himself. This was a bad idea and nothing good would come of this. But it was too late. It was too late anyways. Always.

Using the fire escape, he jumped until he had made it all the way to the rooftop. Once there, he ran. He ran across the roof - not heading anywhere specific - and leaped from building to building. He didn’t stop, he just kept going.

His friends and his brother’s (not to mention his father) would be surprised to know he was doing this. It actually made him feel free and he liked the feeling; he didn’t like being controlled and forced to do the same specific thing all the time. He loved rules, but only when rules were necessary. Control was an excellent thing in many circumstances, but there always had to be a certain level of freedom.

Donnie stopped once, to take a break and have a breather. Bending over, hands on his knees, he gasped and struggled to breath.

Too much, too quickly. He didn’t go on runs like this often, but he always overestimated his abilities.

He was wishing he had brought a drink with him to rehydrate, and had a cup of coffee before leaving.

He should probably tone it down with that actually.

Coffee addiction and all.

Donnie checked his T-phone to see if he had gotten any notifications, any missed calls or unopened texts from his brothers noticing he was nowhere to be found in their home.

Nothing.

It was...

5:47 a.m after all.

He yawned a couple times and rubbed his throbbing head. Another headache. Didn’t surprise him, was just a nuisance. He was having a lot of them lately and that would surprise everyone but himself.

After recovering completely from the full-on-sprint-across-hundreds-of-rooftops, he turned to look up at the sky. The sun was sure to be rising by now, or had already risen.

And he was right.

The sky was a beautiful orange and red, sun peeking out at the horizon. It was hard to see because of all of the buildings, but Donnie had managed it.

Birds were soaring through the sky, chirping noises adding to the surreal effect. 

It was odd being up this early, out of the house (or, in Donnie’s case, the sewer) this early. It felt like a different world, like he shouldn’t be there. Like he was disturbing something precious, valuable.

He liked the feeling, as funny as that sounded.

Donnie restarted his run, but in the opposite direction. Retracing his steps. Better get back to the lair, in case they had morning training. And so he wouldn’t get in trouble for sneaking out.

In no time flat, he was standing in front of the manhole cover again.

And it felt like three seconds later he was staring at his bedroom door.

Man, was he losing track of time.

He tucked himself back into bed and curled in on himself. It wouldn’t be too long before Leo or Master Splinter would be up, and he would have to fake that he had slept.

The exercise hadn’t worked and now he just felt sweaty and dirty.

He’d have to take a shower after breakfast.

Earlier, time had went by fast, faster than what Donnie had expected. Now, it went by slower. Time leisurely trickled by as he lay there with his eyes closed.

Mikey was the one to “wake him up.” And by that, Donnie meant Mikey was the one sent in to wake him up. Pfft, did you think he actually managed to sleep?

He approached apprehensively, which confused Donnie.

Mikey wasn’t scared of him, was he?

Mikey tapped him, and when that didn’t “wake up” Donnie, he shook him.

Donnie pretended to wake up, and rubbed at his eyes.

“M...Mikey...”

“Yeah, Dee. It’s time to get up. I’ve gotta get back to making breakfast.”

“Okay...I’ll be there.”

He spoke slowly and with a lot of breaks in between his words to try to sell off his lie.

Mikey stared at Donnie too long, before he finally left.

Well, that was strange.

Donnie briefly wondered why he had been staring when the answer came to him.

Donnie had all of his gear on. The wraps around his hands, knee pads and elbow pads, bandana, strap across his torso, everything except his bo staff (that was leaning against the wall to his right). Mikey was smart enough to figure out that Donnie would never sleep in full uniform. It was unbearable. Uncomfortable.

Who knew what conclusion Mikey had come to?

Donnie wasn’t worried. There wasn’t too much Mikey could do, although now he was suspicious. He could confront Donnie on his own time, but Donnie had faith that he could convince Mikey not to bring whatever he found out about to Splinter, Raph, or Leo.

Being in his uniform when Mikey came in might have been a blessing in disguise. Donnie hadn’t looked at himself in an actual mirror in forever, but there were certain to be dark marks underneath his eyes if he were to remove the bandana. The marks would be like wearing a sign that said “I haven’t slept in a dangerously long amount of time” for all to see.

And if everyone were to see that, they would kick him out of his lab and force him into his room. They would wait outside and make sure he had no blueprints, notebooks, hidden projects, scraps of material, or even a paper or pen in his room. If they found any, they would take them away from him. His family would make sure he slept, even if it was the last thing they ever did.

At least, he hoped that they would. There was a possibility they wouldn’t care and would think the marks under his eyes were normal and not a serious complication.

His lab wasn’t even the problem. He had tried to sleep, and it hadn’t worked. How, he didn’t know. He was so (so, so, so) exhausted. Most of the day, he worried that he would fall asleep in the middle of a trivial activity or an important one and endanger everybody. But it never happened.

He was waiting for it to happened.

He wanted it to happen.

It wasn’t fair. No one else had any problem sleeping in his family. Mikey and Raph would sometimes even fall asleep on the couch, not having the energy to drag themselves to their bedrooms. Leo had a schedule (he constantly talked about the schedule, that’s why Donnie knew about it) for everything he did, and he liked to go to sleep really early so that he could wake up before everyone else and meditate alone. Splinter had a similar idea, as he would leave the turtles to their own devices at an early hour. Neither Casey nor April complained about sleep problems, and Donnie knew what sleep problems looked like. There were no signs (through their actions, body language, or physical features) that they had a problem with sleep.

It was only Donnie, which explained why he was the only one that could tell if someone were experiencing sleep problems.

What had he been doing?

Oh yeah, time to get up out of bed and join his family. Find out when they’re going to train, and if that will be fun (it’s never fun, not anymore) or if he will die. On the inside.

No need to get redressed in his wraps or his mask, as they were already on him. He just slipped his staff through the holster on his back, and went to find the rest of his family. Or only part of his family. Turned out, Raph was still asleep. Mikey was at the stove, frying eggs and bacon. The toaster was nearby and it seemed toast was browning inside, judging from the smell of it. Mikey kept looking back and forth between the newly repaired toaster and Leo, ready for anything if Leo approached it. Seemed like it was going to be a normal day.

Speaking of Leo...

Donnie probably needed to stop putting off that chat with him. He would regret it in the long run.

He took a seat beside Leo, who immediately turned away and took a sip from his cup of tea.

Why was everyone acting so weird around him?

It wasn’t from last night, was it?

Donnie had been tired (when was he not) from the extra training he had been forced to participate in. He had come out and...well...he couldn’t really remember anything after that, maybe he had fallen asleep (unlikely) or maybe he hadn’t been paying attention, but he had been brought back from wherever he had been by a water balloon to the face.

He remembered Mikey and Leo hugging and Raph brooding close by as he had grabbed the rubber from his face. Donnie had walked over to them, careful to keep his footfalls quiet and precise. He had agreed with what Mikey had said and argued back a little with Leo.

Entering his lab, he had checked one or two machines as the sound of running footsteps filled the lair. He hadn’t thought anything of it then (Mikey was always running), but now...

How could they possibly be scared of him?

He didn’t think he was that intimidating; he’d only call himself intimidating when he was angry. He hadn’t really been angry though, from what he remembered.

He had been more...fed up with their antics.

That wasn’t really an emotion though. Which meant that he could have been angry, been purposefully scaring them.

Fuck...

How would he fix this problem?

There were too many problems.

Always too many.

And he had to fix them all.

-

He stiffened when his younger brother sat down beside him, and turned away to drink some tea.

Everything was wrong. He shouldn’t be scared of Donnie. He knew Donnie, and Donnie wasn’t scary. He would never hurt them.

So then why had he turned away?

Leo was being paranoid. Like he had said, there was no reason to fear Donnie.

What could he do, anyway?

With that thought in mind, he turned back around to face Donnie. He sat the teacup down, and tried to strike up a conversation.

“Hey Donnie.”

“Hey.”

“How are you doing?”

Leo heard the yawn that come out of Donnie’s mouth, but didn’t think too much of it. Everyone yawns after they first get up.

“ ‘m fine.”

“That’s good. So...umm...I’ve been thinking and...we’re gonna need to have a chat. Later. Alone.”

“Okay. Later. When are you thinking?”

“After training.”

Leo got up to grab a plate for the food that Mikey had completed, but kept his ears trained to Donnie’s response.

“When are we training?”

“In two hours.”

Mikey turned towards Leo, and leaned back against the counter.

“Yo, I didn’t know that.”

“Splinter told us at the end of group training yesterday. Were neither of you paying attention?”

“Uh...heheh...I don’t remember,” Mikey said, rubbing the back of his neck.

Mikey grabbed his own plate and loaded it with the food he had cooked, then took a seat beside Leo and Donnie.

“Well, there is one, and Raph’s gonna have to be up. Mikey, I nominate you to wake him.”

“What?! Why me?”

Mikey stood up in outrage and Donnie looked to him, snapped out of his daze or whatever he had been in.

“I don’t know. Do you want Donnie to do it?”

Mikey looked to Donnie, probably debating in his mind if it would be worth it. Donnie and Raph had been a little iffy lately (especially when interacting with each other [Leo hadn’t actually seen them interact since what they had done in the dojo, the fight that he hated admitting was amazing to watch]).

Mikey brought his fingers to his chin, transforming his pose into one of thinking. Contemplating.

Leo knew that this usually wouldn’t be a hard question to answer, and that under the current circumstances, it was. He wanted to laugh at how seriously Mikey was taking this. But he had more self control, and kept it hidden from his brothers in case they were to glance in his direction.

“Nah, I’ll wake him.”

“Don’t. I’ll do it.”

Mikey’s head whipped in Donnie’s direction, as did Leo’s own.

“You’ll...you’ll do it?! I was going to take the bullet for you!”

“I want to do it. Just let me get something real quick.”

Donnie stood up and went to get whatever he was going to get, Leo wasn’t paying attention. He was busy eating the food on his plate. If he focused on this instead of distractions, maybe he’d have time to watch some Space Heroes before training.

And not spend too much time thinking about what was to happen after training...

He just wanted to ask Donnie what he had done in the dojo, ‘cause everyone had been surprised - even Master Splinter.

And maybe...bring up other topics.

He should probably have a chat with Raph as well. He’d get to that, after Donnie managed to wake up the beast. If he managed to.

-

After having his morning cup of coffee (fuck his addiction, he didn’t even know if it was an addiction) it was time. He couldn’t put it off anymore than he already had. It had been a day - an awkward, terribly awkward day. The team couldn’t be at odds with each other, they couldn’t be fighting or not on speaking terms with each other. It messed up their chemistry.

Maybe that was why he volunteered to wake up Raph. 

He didn’t know. Mikey was going to do it, save him from the torturous task, but he had interrupted and offered to wake him instead. It was a dumb and risky move, and he had done it without hesitation. Dumb. He was dumb. There was no way this would end well.

He looked to the spots that used to be bruises, and then to the bandaged-up gashes. He wouldn’t get injured again, would he? Raph was unpredictable, and Donnie didn’t want to underestimate what he could do. It wasn’t even the injuries that were the problem. It was that Raph had been the one that caused them. 

He placed the mug back down on the counter - too rough, always too rough. He took a deep breath, and then forced his legs to move. Looking back one last time, Mikey was grinning from ear to ear and giving him double thumbs up. Leo spared him a quick glance and a small smile. Donnie decided not to think about Leo’s reaction and focus more on Mikey. He was hopeful and was wishing Donnie good luck, and he decided to wave at his younger brother before he left.

And he arrived at the door far too quickly, and forced his recurring yawns down. A migraine was beginning to develop, and he regretted the choice he had made even more. This definitely wasn’t going to end well.

He knocked on the door first, before his brain kicked in, and he realized that would do nothing. Raph was a heavy sleeper, and there was no way a knock on his door would wake him up. Let alone a soft knock. He would have to go in there, and shake the turtle from his slumber. Fun.

Donnie took a deep breath, and his yawning resumed. Fuck. He had expected this, but also had expected he’d be able to control it. He was used to this, he thought he’d be immune. Once again, he was dumb. For a genius, he really was dumb.

He turned the door knob, entered, and closed the door softly behind him. Raph was facing away from the entryway, and his covers were kicked off of him, slightly dropping on the floor. ‘Hah, same,’ Donnie thought, before realizing that this was a prime example of what was wrong with him and that he probably needed some kind of therapy.

Donnie fixed the covers, and lightly tapped his older brother on the shoulder. When that didn’t work, he pressed in a little more rough. That still didn’t work, and Raph’s heavy and loud snoring was only increasing his painful migraine.

He held back a growl, the same way he kept holding back his yawns, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to hold them back for long. He ached all over, and if he had been simply staying up to work on projects, he would have long ago retreated. But, that wasn’t the case. He couldn’t quiet his mind down, and he had actually tried to sleep. It hadn’t worked. 

He should probably give it another try. Multiple trials to confirm the conclusion to his experiment. Plus, to see if he could finally get a break. 

But not right now, they had training. And there was no way Leo, or Master Splinter, would ever let him skip it. Especially since he had already skipped quite a few, and that he arrived late to many. They were going on a group patrol tonight as well. That was one of the only things that Sensei had told him that he remembered from yesterday’s training.

The growl threatened to return, and he forced it deep deep deep down. Luckily, his yawning had stopped for the moment. He rubbed at his eyes. The darkness in the room was not helping his exhaustion, if anything, it made it horribly worse. Minds often interpreted darkness as the time when they should be sleeping, so it only made his body ache all over and his yawns rise to full force.

He yawned, and yawned, and yawned, and nearly needed to sit down. How long had he been standing here in Raph’s room, just dealing with his own exhaustion, while his brother was asleep right in front of him? He didn’t know, since he had long lost his time management abilities, and Raph didn’t have a clock in his room.

Donnie finally gathered some control over himself, and returned to his current problem. Raph, and waking him up. He also probably needed to apologize. After all, he had pushed Raph too far and had been the one more obviously avoiding him. But he knew Raph was purposely avoiding him as well, so that had resulted in the most easy game of hide and seek Donnie had ever played.

No more hide and seek. No more running away. Time to face his problem.

Donnie shoved Raph’s side, and then shook Raph by his shoulders. Raph came to pretty quickly, which surprised the purple colored turtle. Raph brushed Donnie’s hands off of him, and rubbed at his eyes.

“Hgh...wha’ time is it...who...Donnie?!”

Even in the darkness, Donnie could see how wide Raph’s eyes had grown. Donnie took a step away from the bed so that Raph could get up if he cared to, but he made no such move.

“Yeah, umm, I was sent in to wake you up. I actually volunteered to,” Donnie said, and found that at some point while he was talking, he had crossed his arms. And if he had done any research on body language, than he knew that meant he was uncomfortable and using his crossed arms as a barrier between himself and the person he was talking to. Or the turtle he was talking to. Fuck. It wasn’t that bad, was it?

“Oh. Well, I’m up now, so you can go.”

Raph’s voice was scratchy, and he cleared his throat to try to fix his early morning voice.

“I think we should talk,” Donnie blurted out.

Where had his brain gone? Seriously, he really needed it and liked it, could it please come back?

Raph didn’t respond at first, instead pushing himself up so he was resting on his arms. He grabbed his mask, and tied it on, and then reached for his wrappings. Was he really avoiding this? Donnie wasn’t exactly surprised, if Raph had been the one to approach him, he would have as well. They were both stubborn as fuck, his whole family was if he was being honest.

“I...I really do think we should talk.”

He tried again, but he still wasn’t expecting an answer. When he didn’t get one, he took small steps towards the door. As uneasy and uncomfortable as he felt, he really did want to fix this. And if he didn’t, other people would have to get involved. Like Leo. Or Master Splinter. Anyone but Master Splinter.

“You know, you could at least answer me!”

Donnie was surprised he had snapped, he usually had good control over that, and rarely got mad. Well, he had been getting steadily angrier over time, but he had thought that recently it had gotten better. He never had a problem with it, unless he hadn’t had his coffee. The coffee managed to calm him down, and soothe his anger. It was a crutch.

It was a crutch.

He had never considered that he was relying on it for properties other than keeping him awake. And now it all made sense. Not only did coffee have a lot of caffeine that helped him stay awake through late night projects, it also stopped early morning irritability, enhanced brain function, and enhanced performance. All things that greatly helped him when it came to working in his lab.

But it seemed it wasn’t helping in his irritability, although that could just be his lack of sleep. After all, lack of sleep also caused irritability. He was giving coffee too much credit, and it probably wouldn’t be able to stop both early morning irritability and not sleeping irritability.

Raph finally looked at him, and it was funny that he finally did when Donnie couldn’t. He looked down at his hands, at his wrappings, at random things in Raph’s room. He didn’t like this anymore. Granted he never had, but he especially didn’t now. He had never done good in social interactions, and with a glance to Raph, he could see that Raph was asking with his eyes for Donnie to continue with what he had been saying. This was too awkward for him.

“Sorry, uh, anyway, I...uh...I...”

And now he was stuttering, because he had completely forgotten what he had been doing before or what he had been going to say. How had he been planning on approaching this?

Raph stood up to grab his sais, and then took careful steps towards where Donnie was standing. Looking down, Donnie took note of the height difference that he constantly forgot existed. Raph stood on his tip-toes and placed a hand on Donnie’s shoulder.

“Dee, there’s nothing we need to talk about. Let’s just act like nothing happened.”

“I don’t think that’s going to fix the problem,” said Donnie. Miraculously, he had found his voice.

“Do you really want to talk about it? Right now? We could at least wait a few hours, and wake up first.”

If Donnie wasn’t dead tired, he would probably think this through more. But, he was. And waiting sounded much better than doing it this early. He knew he would regret this, but he wanted to do what Raph had proposed.

“Won’t Leo and Master Splinter get involved at some point?”

Raph scoffed.

“At some point, sure. But, we’ll work it out by then.”

He removed the hand from Donnie’s shoulder, and walked right out the door. Just before he vanished from sight, though, he turned back around.

“Thanks for waking me up.”

And then he was gone.

Donnie just stayed there for a moment, staring at the boring, plain wall of Raph’s bedroom.

What had just happened?

-

Master Splinter called him into the dojo to speak to him, and even after all of these years, he was still nervous when it came to one-on-one talks like these. Leo knew it was about their training, their patrols, or something involving their enemies.

And he was correct. 

“Leonardo, I am proud of the training session you led two days ago, and if you would accept my offer, I would like you to lead the one today. I would recommend, though, not putting Raphael and Donatello against each other. You do feel the tension in the air, correct?”

“Yeah, yeah, of course. But, and not to question or accuse you of anything, but...aren’t you going to do anything about it?”

Splinter stroked his beard, and Leo wondered for the umpteenth time if he did it to appear more wise, or if it was some kind of habit. 

“They need to learn how to work out their own problems. Their relationship is not what I am worried about. What I am worried about is what they were doing.”

“What were they doing, father?”

“I...I think that is a story for another time.”

His father faltered in his wording. Something was up, something was definitely up. Something big. And Leo didn’t know if it was good, or bad. If what Raph and Donnie had done was good or bad. One thing was for sure though...it involved those two, and they were likely to end up in a mess of trouble.

Leo didn’t envy them.

He bowed to his father before exiting the dojo, and upon his leave, ran into Mikey. Literally.

Leo rubbed his head from the impact, before turning his attention to his youngest brother. Mikey was rubbing his head as well, and wincing every time his hand came in contact. He had something hidden behind his back in his other hand, and Leo strained to see.

“Hey Mikey, what are you doing? What’s behind your back?”

“Uhh, nothing really, just something stupid. I gotta go, though. Oh, and Donnie got Raph up.”

“Woah, woah, woah. Why are you going into the dojo?”

“My...uh...Master...Splinter wanted me. And he wants me, like, right now. Sooooo, bye!”

Mikey rushed past, shoulder scraping Leo’s own, and before he knew it, Mikey was gone. Gone, like so many other things.

He never did see what Mikey had behind his back.

Chapter Text

Opening his locker door, he grabbed his math and science textbooks and slammed the door shut. With a gap-toothed smirk settled upon his bruised face, he kicked the hockey puck on the floor nearby. It flew a few feet and nearly caused someone to trip. Cringing, he rushed forward to pick up the puck.

As much as Casey wanted to get out on the ice and play some hockey, it was school time, which sucked ass.

Tucking the hockey puck into his back pocket, he began the walk to where he thought his next class was. Remembering his schedule was hard, and that coupled with his home life, schoolwork, homework, and his secret life was difficult to manage. He couldn't remember if it was a left turn or a right turn, and sadly, he wasn't close with anyone in the class, so he couldn't ask for directions. April was heading to English class right now, which was on the opposite side of the school. Although, maybe that was a good thing, because then she couldn't stop him from...

Taking his hockey stick out of its holster and hitting the puck as hard as possible, watching in satisfaction as it flew to the end of the hall. It banged hard against a locker, but he wasn't worried. No one else was in the hallway, and who cared about what any of the teachers thought?

That turned out to be his fatal mistake, as a few minutes later he was walked to the principal's office by some teacher whose name he didn't even know.

She told the principal in quite the harsh tone about his "misbehavior" and that the man should do something about this "miscreant." The principal hummed and nodded, clearly deep in thought. He sent the gangly teenager an observing look, and waved a hand at the teacher, signaling that she could now leave.

"Casey Jones. What are we going to do with you?"

"What? I was just having fun."

"Your fun was causing a disturbance to the staff and the students at this school. Mr. Jones, this is the fourth time you have been here in the past two weeks. I don't think I'm going to be able to let you off the hook this time. I'm going to have to call your father and ask him to come down so that we can have a little chat."

Please no. Anything but that.

"With all due respect, Mr. uhhh...Principal? I don't think that will be necessary. I swear I'll stop whatever it was that I was doing wrong."

"I'm sorry Mr. Jones, but it is necessary to call the parents once it has gotten this far. Don't worry, I won't have a chat with him right now if he's in the middle of something. I'll merely schedule a time with him for when he can come in. But for now, head to class. I'll call your teacher and inform them of the situation at hand. Be prepared for extra work as a punishment."

Well, great. This sucked ass as well.

"We're all done here. As disappointed in you as I am, I can't do too much until I talk to your parental guardian. Now head back to class so I can make the phone call."

Casey laughed nervously and rubbed the back of his neck.

"Could you maybe, uh, tell me where it is?"

After suffering through his math class, science class, and Spanish class, he was finally able to kick up the wheels on his shoes and ride out of the school building. His hockey stick was strapped across his back like always, a hockey puck in his back pocket, and a duffel bag filled with textbooks gripped tight in his right hand. The straps burned slightly, but at this point, he hardly even noticed.

One of his favorite things to do after a long day at school was to glide around on his rollerblades, even better if he was pounding some faces in while doing so. He had been skating forever - it was one of the ways he had escaped from his parent's constant bickering when he was young. First, it had been skateboarding, followed quickly by ice skating, and then finally, rollerblading. He loved how free he felt from it, and how it gave him some ground when he was fighting alongside the turtles. Skating was a better match to their speed; he was still slower than them, but it was something.

After all, it was something that April didn't have on them.

Casey had started skateboarding after witnessing a friend of his doing tricks in grade school. Casey remembered it clearly; the orange wheels of the board, the black deck, and the white, black, and orange underside - a tiger in motion, white background, thick black lines going in all directions filling in the emptiness of the background. One of the raddest boards he had ever seen! Unfortunately, that was all he could remember of that friendship, not even the guy's name or what color the hair on the top of his head was. But he was grateful to that friend and to that board because they'd inspired him to start learning.

This quickly led to him watching videos on his Mom's ratty, old computer: how to skateboard, the most difficult skateboard tricks, best pro skateboarders, easiest skateboard tricks, skateboarding tips, etc. He had begged his Mom for years to get him a skateboard for Christmas or his birthday, for "earning all As and Bs, oh come on, pleeeeease!," for a pick me up so that he could do well on his schoolwork - because as the years had passed by, he had only gotten worse and worse. 

Casey didn't particularly remember what exactly had caused his downfall when it came to his grades and completing schoolwork. At some point, he must have just simply stopped caring. The enjoyment and the reward of it all simply wasn't worth it when compared to the stress and amount of effort he would have to put in. His Dad didn't care that much, except for odd little moments when he would raise his voice and plead for Casey to get the work done, to "try harder." His Mom was always disappointed, or so it had seemed at the time, always scolding him and begging, until it evolved to begging with tears forming in the corner of her eyes that eventually settled into full-on crying, one where you could never quite tell if it was real or if it was fake.

He had hated seeing his Mom like that. Like all of the pressure from her full-time job, taking care of all of the housekeeping, cooking every meal, and presiding over him was about to make her explode, like she was going to lose her mind and decide that she didn't have to take it and that she could just leave (which she had, but that was beside the point.) So some time, and this was probably around 5th or maybe 6th grade, he had decided to toughen it out and put in a little more effort towards his schoolwork. He loved his Mom and was such a Mama's boy even though he would never admit it, and at that age, he had started to realize the things that she went through and the problems with his father. All he wanted to do was to make that easier for her, make her happy.

That Christmas, he'd finally gotten the skateboard he wanted.

He still had it to this day, although it was a bit too small for him to be able to ride safely and comfortably. The day his Mom had left, only for her to never return (although he hadn't known that at the time), he had hung the skateboard up on his wall - a light blue sky splattered with clouds on the underside of the board, the deck a solid white. At that point, he had been working little side jobs as no place would offer him an actual part-time job because of his age, and he had raised enough money over the past year to be able to get a full-sized board. It was the one he currently used today, not often, but he did sometimes pull out the old board to have a joyride. It looked just as good as the day he had first gotten it - a street skateboard, the deck a solid 7.5 inches long, hard black wheels, completely black deck, neon spray-paint design on the underside. 

And of course, finding that skateboard in a little indie shop on 7th street had inspired him to get further interested in his art, mainly painting and watercolor, and he didn't even have to mention how it had inspired his love of spray painting. He viewed it a lot more as an art form than a way to vandalize, the bright neon colors making a beautiful statement and making the dark gray of the city a lot more colorful. A little less monotonous. 

And so, to cope with his mother's betrayal, he had buried himself in his side jobs which mostly consisted of dog walking, pet sitting, and running a lemonade stand where he charged WAY too much for a glass of lemonade, but hey, sometimes he still got customers. He buried himself in his hobbies - in his artwork, in his spray-painting, in his skateboarding, and his developing love for ice skating, the risk of falling and hurting himself meshing perfectly with the freeing feeling and the natural talent that blossomed.

It was hard still, and Casey knew it always would be. He didn't know if his Mom would ever come back, or if his family could fix itself, or what would happen to him in the long run. But skating had been an escape, and it still was; he knew that he would always have this, so he took in a deep breath and let out a loud whoop, one that he hoped carried all over the city.

Barely avoided ramming into a streetlight, he skid around a corner and found himself in an alleyway.

He reached underneath the nearby trashcan and grabbed another bag, similar to the one containing his school stuff. Glancing around cautiously, he hid behind the same trashcan and changed into his vigilante gear. It was mainly just extra pads and hidden weapons that he was adding to his outfit.

If Casey knew anything at all, it was that extra pads and gear were necessary. Not for protection.

For hiding.

He didn't like it when people worried about him. It made him feel incapable. Weak. Stupid. And when you were someone who was friends with mutant turtles, a mutant rat, and whatever the hell April was, you ended up feeling pretty useless. Because he was human. 

He was just a stupid, weak human who constantly needed protection from his mutant friends. 

And here he was again, spending too much time thinking about things he shouldn't be thinking about. His friends never thought about it. April never thought about it.

So why should he?

Attaching the taser weapon, his thoughts drifted to April once more against his will.

The number of times she'd run up to him after he returned from patrol and made a fuss about his bruised and scratched-up face.

The pity and concern that always swelled in her voice when she saw his injuries were worse than she once thought.

Don't get Casey wrong, he enjoyed the attention, especially from her. Plus, it made Donnie burn with jealousy. Nonetheless, he hated it.

Hated, hated, hated, hated, HATED it.

It was just another reminder that he didn't fit in with the group, wasn't strong enough, wasn't skilled enough.

Wasn’t good enough.

And he despised it with everything in him.

So yes, he wore the gear. He took extra weapons. But all it ever did was prove their point.

After putting all of the equipment in place, he checked one last time to make sure he didn't forget anything.

Only because he didn't want to worry April. He didn't want to worry the turtles.

Or anyone else for that matter.

"Casey? What happened to your face?"

It was dark, the only light in the room spilling through the parted curtain, a softly flickering streetlamp.

Her little hands grabbed onto his cheeks and she pulled him closer.

”What happened?” she repeated.

“Just got into a skating accident at the rink, but I’m okay now. Shouldn’t you be in bed?”

She should have been in bed hours ago, but if he was being honest, Casey wasn’t surprised that she was still awake. Their father wasn’t the best when it came to…being a father.

And his mother? She wasn’t here anymore.

It hurt sometimes, because his sister looked so much like her, and that’s why he was thankful he couldn’t see her.

He was going through enough as it was.

“It looks like a really bad accident, why don’t you ask Daddy for help?”

He stiffened, in absolute shock that she would ever suggest anything so absurd. She knew why he couldn’t do that.

He and his Dad had a very complicated relationship. They both just stayed out of each other’s way. Did that mean that his Dad was a tad neglectful? Definitely.

But his Dad was busy with work and taking care of Casey’s sister, so he could understand where his priorities lie and that he just didn’t have time for Casey. As simple as that.

His Mom would have had time for him...

It wasn’t the worst thing ever. His Dad didn’t often bug him to stay safe. That was a relief because Casey didn't know if he could keep that promise.

"It's really not that big of a deal. But if it feels worse, I'll talk to him about it."

That seemed to satisfy his sister, and so, she turned away from him and returned to her bed. She looked up at him expectantly, and he sighed. This girl. He knew she was his sister, but she thought too much of him sometimes, and other times, she thought too little of him. He crouched down by her bedside and tucked her in, rubbing his fingers through her hair once she was comfortable and warm.

She smiled at him, made happy by the simple act of being tucked into bed. But that was good. It meant she was still a child - still a child, filled with naïve beliefs about the world and the people around her. It wasn't often, but sometimes, Casey wished he could go back to that.

He wished he could have his Mom back.

The one person who ever believed in him.

But alas, he was stuck with what he had now. Looking at his sister, he thought, "That will have to do."

That night's vigilante outing was rather uneventful, at least, in Casey's opinion. There were a couple of cowardly punks that ran away at the first sight of him, not necessarily because Casey had a reputation or that he scared them, but because they were afraid they had been caught. One guy fought back and left him with a few bruises, but nothing too serious. All he would have to do was ice them and bandage them up so that people weren't worried about him. Or he could even use some of April's makeup if he wanted to really hide them.

But nah, he kind of liked them. Not in a weird or bad way or anything, he just liked what they represented. It showed that he went up against someone or something that caused him pain, but that he came out of it triumphantly. It showed that his body could take it.

And he was all about the fight, the pain, and being triumphant.

Because after all, he was Casey Jones.

At about one in the morning, Casey felt that it would probably be best to turn in for the night. Morning. Whatever.

His Dad was fast asleep, and his sister had been asleep for hours, but he still felt it necessary to be both quiet and careful so they wouldn't hear him and know that he had been out late. Unfortunately, being careful was quite hard for him to do. There wasn't much he found difficult, but this happened to be one thing he could never really excel at.

Oh who was he kidding, he found a lot of things difficult.

It was difficult to do well in school when he was always so tired and unmotivated, and it was hard to do well in gym class when his bones were always aching and his bruises hurt to the touch. It was hard to impress his Dad, it was hard to take care of his sister, it was hard to keep up with the turtles...

And it was hard to get his mother to stay.

It was even harder to get her back.

These thoughts ran through his head as he let the water from the showerhead run through his dirty, black hair. He could feel his hair tickling the back of his neck; it had been getting longer lately since he didn't have the strength nor the time to cut it. He was much overdue for a haircut, but he didn't know if he cared anymore. Maybe it was for the best, he'd look even more like some of the rock stars that he looked up to. Hmm...he could even cut it into a mullet. That brought a laugh out of him at the mental image, guttural and raspy. He hadn't laughed in quite a few days...it was nice.

He ran shampoo through his hair and sighed, the silence in the room suddenly deafening from every angle. Even though it was two in the morning, something about the silence seemed different from the silences of past nights. He felt...

Lonely.

Other nights, he didn't think anything of the silence. It was late and his family was sleeping after all. But now, it almost seemed too normal. At April's apartment right now, her Dad was probably still awake researching on his computer and doing assignments for work the next day. He'd be sitting on the living room couch with his legs kicked up on the coffee table and a lamp with a new bulb shining brightly from between the two couches. The fireplace would probably be on, and he'd have a hot cup of tea on hand; the TV would be turned on to some news channel, serving as background noise for the long night ahead of him. A couple of rooms away, April would be watching an old movie on her small TV, maybe one that reminded her of her Mom. Her lights would be off, and she'd be tucked into bed wearing comfortable pajamas and cuddling with her favorite stuffed animal. Her phone would be sitting beside her, possibly open to a text conversation with Donnie.

And not him.

Over at the turtle's lair right now, most of them would probably still be awake as well. Splinter would have turned in for the night hours ago, but his sons had much more energy than him. They might be partying after their latest victory, which was likely without their human friends to slow them down. Leo might be meditating or watching Space Heroes, or heck, he could already be asleep by now. Raph could be hitting his punching bag, but more likely than not, he'd be fighting with one of his brothers. Casey loved him and all, but he honestly needed to get a grip on that. Donnie would be in his lab; Casey knew this for certain. Even if he wasn't in his lab right now, he'd be in there soon enough, tinkering away at some project of his. And through that, there was always the possibility that something would explode. Mikey could be doing many things right now: dancing to music from his beatbox, watching Crognard the Barbarian, or talking with Ice Cream Kitty. Maybe even none of those; Mikey was easily the least predictable, so there were countless possibilities for what he could be doing right now.

Wouldn't matter what any of them were doing, all that mattered was that it was something. There was noise and there was peace in that noise, and it was so weird, but Casey kinda wished there was some sound other than silence consuming his house right now. Even if it was 2 am.

It didn't feel like the silences he experienced when he hung out with the guys and it didn't feel like the silences when he was over at the O'Neil's, who had basically become a weird third family to him over the past couple of months. This silence he was hearing right now felt empty. Just silence. Nothing else. No homey feeling hanging around in the atmosphere, no feeling of peace or security.

To tell the truth, all he ever did at his home was sleep, and occasionally, eat meals. He did everything in his power to be out of the house as much as possible, so really, he should be appreciative of the detention he was very likely to receive. He'd probably just up and leave right now if it wasn't for his sister. He couldn't just leave her with Dad; he couldn't have that on his conscious.

Done with his rumination, he stepped out of the shower, water dripping down his body, and grabbed a towel from the closet. It was covered in holes and bleach spots, as all of the towels and rags in his house were. He didn't bat an eye and finished drying his body, before tying his hair up in a very short ponytail and getting dressed.

Climbing into bed, he paused, brain turning and turning and turning.

Maybe he was being too harsh on his Dad, heck, maybe he was being too harsh on the guys as well. They were just worried about him, and Casey knew himself better than anyone. He knew what sort of dangerous things he got involved in. They knew how injured a regular human could get from all of the stuff they did, and he was rather reckless, according to some. But come on, if he said he could take care of himself, he could take care of himself, goddamn it!

And his Dad...he was just trying to make a living. He wasn't around much because he was always working, at least, that was what it seemed like. When Casey was younger, he tried to do some snooping around to see if that was really the truth, and unfortunately, he couldn't find anything to prove the contrary. However, that didn't give him the right to leave Casey's sister to walk miles to and from school or to ask Casey to go and get some goddamn food because his Dad hadn't taken the time to order groceries, leaving his sister who spent most of her time at home to practically starve.

It was sad really. How his Dad wasn't that bad on the surface, but if you looked closer, you could see the little signs of abuse. In how Casey always kept his distance, and how his sister had always suffered from learning difficulties that continued to make her suffer because their Dad wouldn't and hadn't ever helped her understand her schoolwork. In the little movements, like Casey always keeping his eyes on his Dad when all three of them were in the same room, in how he stayed around his sister as much as he could, in the way she subtly flinched away from their Dad when he got too close.

But he couldn't do anything. His Dad had friends in high places, most people wouldn't believe him or think it a big deal, and Casey wasn't 18 yet. He couldn't run away with his sister. Well, he could, but it was illegal and they wouldn't make it far. Without a stable job, money, or shelter, they would only last a couple of days.

And he couldn't ask the turtles. He just couldn't.

They had their own shit going on.

More important shit than his, that was for sure. Fire-breathing monsters and super-martial-arts-knowing kapow ninjas, man. That kind 'a junk.

Casey stared at his reflection in the mirror, checking out just how long his hair had gotten recently. Except, that wasn't what he was looking at.

He was looking at the bruises. They stood out in stark contrast to his skin tone and brown eyes. The swelling had gone down while he slept, but the red color remained, bright and noticeable. They followed the line of his cheekbone and chin, and a couple of the bruises rested at his collarbone. He pressed a finger to the ones on his chin and felt that they still stung. The ones along his collarbone ached to the touch, clearly tender and still sore.

As much as he hated the thought, they reminded him of watercolors that had a little too much water in them, muddy and blurred. April would chastise him for the way he was romanticizing them (and the way he romanticized any injury, let's be real), but he couldn't help it if it made him think of that. He took a lot of art classes when he was younger, and he was an artist himself, at least in his head. He considered the art in his journal to be pretty good. So it was only second nature for him to compare it to art.

Sighing, Casey dropped his hand from his face and started searching for his bottle of nail polish. Finding it in the back corner of a drawer, he settled into a chair in the kitchen and painted his fingernails a nice shade of black. The ceiling light above him flickered halfway through, and he frowned, having messed up a nail. Ugh, great, that bulb was gonna need replacing. Something his Dad wouldn't notice and wouldn't do, and something that they might not even be able to afford.

Or more likely, something that his Dad wouldn't put money aside for, since he was the only one making an income in the house and Casey couldn't do shit!

Great, an hour into his day and he was already back on this.

Finishing up the last nail (and fixing the one he had accidentally messed up), he returned to the bathroom to cover up his bruises. He was going to see the turtles, and he didn't want them to see the bruises all over his face. They weren't that big of a deal.

Not now.

Using the concealer that he had snuck from April's bag, he put a little on the tip of his finger and lightly dabbed it over the bruises. Sucking in a breath, he made sure to blend the concealer as well and as quickly as possible so that the pain from the injuries could stop. At least, temporarily.

He was used to this. He knew what came with the job when he first became a vigilante; he knew that it entailed pain, bruises and cuts and scars, and needing to go to the hospital to get stitches and then lie about where the injury came from and sneak out of the waiting room to repeat it all again. Not to mention that there was always the possibility of death. There was no way to know if he would come back from an encounter alive. It was the same thing when it came to the turtles and their enemies; he risked his life for them again and again because he was loyal to his friends, because he cared about them, because he loved them.

He loved them.

Over the past two years (a rough estimate, since going to space and traveling to the past, Casey wasn't quite sure just how long it'd been since he first met them), he'd gone from hating those guys to a mutual tolerance to a friendship, and now, to a very close bond that he couldn't quite describe. If he was to put it into words, he would totally butcher it, but it was a special, small little feeling that one wouldn't notice at first. It was a pain in his chest when he thought about Raph playing his drums, or Mikey cracking jokes, or even Leo watching Space Heroes. It was a pressure on his heart, a squeezing feeling, a tightness in his throat. It was weird, but not unwelcome.

That was why he was always so hurt when they teased him. He knew it wasn't a big deal - he told this to himself after, because he knew it was true - but he just couldn't get himself to believe it. Their words sliced at him, cutting him into smaller and smaller pieces, more and more worthless, the feeling of inadequacy a common accompaniment. Casey shouldn't feel that way, they were just joking, but the things they said hit far too close to home. He had insecurities just like anyone else, and those insecurities were constantly being tested in this new world, one filled with the rise of mutants and villains who only grew more and more powerful.

He had always had this worry, this nagging feeling hanging in the back of his mind that he wasn't good enough. He supposed it had first started with his Mom, but where it would end, Casey didn't want to know. Everyone else was so confident and powerful, and sure, Casey was definitely confident in himself and his abilities (come on, he was Casey Jones!) But...he often wondered if he was doing the right thing. Was his fighting style effective in their battles? Was he being too impulsive and putting his friends in danger? Was he slowing them down?

Casey wasn't trained in martial arts. He wasn't a ninja and he wasn't a kunoichi, but he did have the spirit, the weapons, and enough know-how to do well in a fight. He had the gusto and the energy to get back up and never surrender, and he wasn't prone to hesitation. He knew how to fight, and he knew where to hit to cause the most damage. He knew a lot more than people gave him credit for, so why did everyone think of him so poorly?

When he noticed an injury that he'd received from vigilante nights, tagging along with the turtles, or from training with Master Splinter (which he so seldom did), he could immediately tell the extremity of the injury and how best to care for it (how often he actually patched them up being a different story). He knew shortcuts all across the city, and what hour most of the criminals decided to make their move. He knew all about weapons and art, and he definitely had some skills in leadership and parenting from taking care of his sister after his Mom's betrayal; his Dad simply couldn't rise to the occasion. He was decent at parkour and knew a couple of fighting strategies, and while his execution was never good, he was definitely better than an average person. He knew how to take what he was good at and use it to his advantage; he'd managed to convert some hockey moves into his fighting style, allowing him to throw enemies off their game and gain the upper hand.

He was not stupid

He wasn’t.

But that didn't stop them from thinking of him in that way. They thought of him as s̷͛̈t̸̔u̶͂͗p̶̀̏͘i̴͂̀̒̔d̶̛̋̕, useless, a liability. When he said that he was going to take down an enemy or go stake out Shredder on his own, they laughed at him and mocked him. Even Mikey, even Raph, and although he wasn’t as surprised about him doing it as he should be, Raph was supposed to be his best friend. He was supposed to back Casey up when he needed it, defend him when others looked down on him. But no, all Raph did was join them in their mocking. He tried not to take it personally because it wasn't like Raph only mocked him, he mocked everyone. 

Don't get Casey wrong, he didn't stay up for hours at night thinking about the hurtful comments or anything to that extreme, it was just...sometimes they’d pop into his head and he wouldn't be able to focus on anything else for a few minutes. Sometimes, he might be watching something on TV and whatever was happening at the moment would remind him of the turtles, causing him to think about how they'd treat him. Sometimes, he'd be beating himself up for something that he did (this happened only once…okay, maybe twice), and he couldn’t help but think worse and worse things about himself, so without his intention of doing so, he’d repeat some of the phrases that the guys had said to him before in an attempt to...

Make himself feel worse?

He had lost his train of thought, but that was probably a good thing. Casey suddenly didn't feel like going to see the turtles, not only because of what he had been thinking about, but also because of the smell. Didn't matter how many times he went down there, the sour stink of the sewer hit him full force every time, giving him a headache and a nauseous feeling in the pit of his stomach. The guys joked about him and April getting used to it eventually, but Casey didn't think he ever would.

Didn't humans have better smell than turtles anyway? They had no right to joke about that.

Casey bit back a small chuckle and searched his face in the mirror for any remaining signs of injury. When he couldn't notice anything that stuck out, he smiled, satisfied with his work.

He wasn't good with makeup. He tried to put some on his sister whenever she wanted to play dress up, but it never looked good. She complained about his shoddy craftsmanship, obviously joking, but she kept coming back to him for it anyway because his Dad couldn't do any better. To be fair, Casey just didn't have much experience in the matter, but he was impressed by the people who did, like April. She didn't wear much makeup (and she often didn't wear any at all), but she was very skilled at it. She could apply eyeliner effortlessly, a skill Casey was most jealous of. Sometimes he just wanted to be able to apply perfect messy eyeliner to his lower eyelid (he had an emo phase when he was younger, so sue him). She also had a knack for color matching, another thing Casey was jealous of because he had problems with that in his art, let alone when it came to makeup.

All he could do was hope that his concealer work would be good enough to stop anyone from asking questions, and although it was far from the best, Casey was sure it would be fine.

And so, he got to work preparing everything he would need, putting on his shoes, and getting on his bike to visit the turtles, a hint of reluctance and unease still clinging to his heart.

He last saw the turtle brothers five days ago, on one of their tri-weekly patrol nights. The Purple Dragons had been attempting (and failing miserably) to steal valuables from this nice, old, rich woman, and they had put a stop to it. April had a club thing at school, so she didn't participate. Casey had a feeling that even if she didn't have the club, she still wouldn't have joined them. Most of the time, she didn't go on patrol with them. Casey didn't know why - it was strange and a recent development. It almost felt like she was growing distant from them.

Although Casey couldn't blame her, it had been five days since he had last spent time with the turtles (not counting two days ago when Raph called him to come over), and it wasn't because he was busy. He just chose not to visit them. Honestly, it just wasn't the same as it once had been. They didn't have that many enemies anymore, and the ones they did have were weak as shit. 

Shredder was gone. His lackeys fled the city after his brutal defeat at the hands of Master Splinter. For now, the Foot Clan was gone. Sure, there was always the possibility they could launch an attack, but it wasn't happening at the moment. Casey sometimes wished they would come back just so he could have something to do, just to have some reason to keep on fighting, even though he knew he shouldn't be thinking that. The damage the Foot Clan and associated parties had caused to the city was extensive and infamous, and the trauma that they caused civilians would never quite go away. Casey's sister, his father, his family would never quite be the way they once were. Always living in fear of an attack, always remembering the devastation and destruction. The fear. The lives lost. The suffering.

In a strange way, that was what bonded the people living in New York City. Only they could understand what it felt like to have an army of pink blobs invade their home and take their children, change and twist and morph them into something they weren't. Only they knew the relief when their family was finally returned to them, safe and back to normal, except they weren't. They weren't back to normal because they were scarred, they were wrecked and ruined and off. The way they moved, the way they spoke - something about all of it was off. These people - the ones who were abducted - weren't the same when they came back and they never would be. And the people who hid and survived, they were changed too. PTSD, anxiety, depression. They had new scars and new fears and all-consuming grief that wouldn't go away, even after their loved ones were returned to them.

The Kraang didn't win the battle, but they did win the war. They had made their impact, and not a single person living in New York City went unscathed.

However, it was nice to see the city so much more alive afterward. People were making an effort to get to know each other and learn each other's stories. Civilians reached out to acquaintances they hadn't heard from in a while to make sure that they were doing okay. It was nice, even if it was only happening because they were all bonded by a shared trauma.

Because of this, newcomers to the city would never quite fit in, and they'd have no idea why.

There was a small blessing that came with all of this, however. The crime rate had rapidly decreased.

The only criminals who remained now were petty thugs, barely able to make a scratch in the grand scheme of things. No one was truly bothered by them, not after all that happened. Now, they knew how to fight back. They had been forced to learn how to survive, so they taught themselves how to throw punches and where to kick. They learned how long they could go without food, how to find food while the world burned in the background. How to hide and how to fight. When to fight and when to run.

The children were forced to grow up too quickly, Casey's sister included. Angel was left to fend for herself since her brother had fled the city and her father had been mutated. She had no choice but to toughen up. She experienced things that no 9-year-old should ever experience. According to her, she had been on the cusp of giving up but had been found by a small group of survivors. They had helped patch her injuries, and given her food and a safe place to hide.

Only three out of the original eight people in the group were alive today, including Angel.

Sometimes, Angel woke up at night from nightmares where she was being chased and hunted down, like a bug ripe for the slaughter. Casey did all he could to help her when this happened, but he really had no idea what he was doing. He didn't experience the things that she had, all he had done was run away when he should have stayed and fought back. He should have gone back for her.

He couldn't remember why he didn't go back.

There was a shift between them, a wall that hadn't been there before. Instead of bouncing over to him to ask about his day when he got home, she stayed silent, sitting on the couch and staring at nothing. Instead of drowning herself in blankets and stuffed animals, she slept with nothing, sheet scrunched up at the end of her bed, comforter on her bedroom floor. Unused. Her usual stuffed animals had been shoved in her closet, or donated, per her decision. Soft and chubby skin had been replaced by rough, dry skin, sharp bones, and muscles that felt out of place. She was independent, but more than anything else, she was still a child - a little girl. And he should have gone back for her! But he didn't, he abandoned her.

He broke her.

And he couldn't escape that truth.

Huffing, Casey grabbed his duffel bag and raced out the door, hopping onto his bike. 

Whatever it took to escape his thoughts.

He knew the streets well and could maneuver them better than most drivers with actual licenses. That was New York for ya! Despite that, he took longer than usual to get to the sewer entrance he always used. For whatever reason, he couldn't urge his feet to pedal any faster. They seemed to prefer to linger, taking in the city he had lived in his entire life. That same spot of graffiti on the brick building at the corner. The trash can that was always flipped over with half of its contents spilling out, no matter how many times it was fixed. That creepy white van parked on the curb right outside the alleyway where the sewer entrance was, humans nearby searching through the dumpsters and creating quite the stir.

Wait, what?

That wasn't supposed to be happening.

He tried to slam on the brake quietly, but it was too late. Three of the people standing knee-deep in the dumpsters turned at the skidding of his bike, revealing themselves to be none other than the Purple Dragons. Of course!

"Boss, we got someone we gotta deal with."

"That emo kid is back."

"Ya' scared? Don't got those freaks to help you this time."

Hun didn't even bother looking up. He continued digging. Every few seconds he would throw a trash bag out of the dumpster, guts thoroughly searched through based on the slit in the side of the bag.  Unidentifiable trash muck oozed out, and things like banana peels, plastic bottles, paper plates, and rotten food were visible on the inside. The bag was attracting bugs, cockroaches and flies and maggots, and the like. Casey covered his mouth and his nose to protect his nostrils and keep himself from getting sick.

"Shhhh. I'm working," Hun said, briefly pausing to contemplate. "Take him down, boys."

And that was all he had to say. Sid approached Casey first, raising his arms in the air to bring his fists down on Casey's head, leaving his stomach completely exposed. Casey swung at it with his baseball bat, but a hand grabbed the barrel and tugged the bat away from him. Tsoi pulled him back roughly, and he barely managed to duck to avoid Sid's fists, having to pull Tsoi down with him since he wouldn't let go. Tsoi pushed the handle of the bat into Casey's stomach while he was distracted. He doubled over, nausea creeping up his windpipe. Biting his tongue to steady his breathing, he tried his best to push through the pain. He had to stay on his feet and stay alert. There were three of them. He couldn't afford to lose track of one and fall victim to a sneak attack.

Casey kicked up the wheels on his shoes, and pushed back, desperate to escape from the current situation. He was trapped. The alley was tight and cramped, and being three vs. one alongside that lowered Casey's chances of winning tremendously. If he could break free from them and give himself a little bit more room, then he might just have a chance. Just the tiniest bit more...

Fong threw himself at Casey, latching on and clinging tightly to his hair and his arms. Casey tried to shake him off, but that just resulted in them spinning around wildly in circles. Sid and Tsoi stopped and just stared, arms hung limply at their sides.

"Er, get off of me!!" Casey yelled, trying to whack Fong with the baseball bat he had somehow managed to hold on to.

He needed to divide and conquer! It was the only way he could come out on top. Like Tsoi had said, he didn't have the turtles to back him up.

Uhh, not that the Casey Jones needed them to kick some Purple Dragon butt, anyway.

But he couldn't lie, it would be pretty sweet if they suddenly jumped out from that sewer entrance and started beating the shit out of these losers. In a "straight out of an action movie" sorta way, of course. Nothing else.

Fong stomped on his foot, snapping him out of his daydreams. While they spun around even more erratically than before and Casey grappled for control, he could see Tsoi and Sid closing in, trying their best to intervene in the one-on-one that Casey and Fong had created. And that was when Casey got the most beautiful, magnificent idea that he was nearly salivating at the mouth. 

Casey upped the tempo. He kicked a leg out and pushed them off, and if he had thought they were spinning before, then he was dead wrong. It now felt like Casey was trapped on a merry-go-round with a broken control switch; he could feel the skin on his face flapping around. And yet, he still couldn't stop. They just weren't fast enough. As they were getting closer to a trash bin, he used his baseball bat to push away from it a couple of times, until Casey could nearly feel his dinner travelling back up his throat.

And that was when he let go of Fong.

The man screamed, and with a loud CLANG!, crumpled into a heap in front of the nearest trashcan. His body slumped forwards with the signs of a serious concussion, or worse, and Casey wacked the back of his head with the baseball bat a couple of times before Tsoi and Sid could get the jump on him. Hopefully that would leave Fong down for the count.

"That's what you get for throwing out my calling card!" he shouted. Fong gave no response, and Casey grinned. One down. Three more to go.

Using similiar tactics, he made quick work of the other two without the previous leader of the Purple Dragons getting in his way. Sure was a shame the goons weren't smarter.

First was Tsoi, who again, tried his best to remove the baseball bat from Casey's grip. With his focus on the bat, Casey used the opportunity to slam his taser into the man's stomach, and as he recoiled, Casey spun around and whammed him in the side. Tsoi went flying a short distance away, and Casey pushed him further back with the end of the bat. Sid creeped up while his back was turned and grabbed him by the shoulders, but Casey went limp in his grip, taking Sid by surprise. An elbow to his leg and a second tase brought Casey just the slighest bit closer to his goal, and he swapped back and forth as they each advanced until both of them were taken care of.

"What, your latest temple exploit didn't go to plan? Had to invest in a new hobby?"

Sid scowled at him from where Casey had him detained, chained to the legs of one of the trashcans with Casey's bike chain.

"I guess it does fit your vibe. Not like you'll smell any worse," he said with smirk.

All the while he'd been fighting them, Hun had kept digging through the trash. Every now and then Casey would hear little tinging noises from glass bottles brushing up against each other, or the harsh rip of a plastic bag from Hun's pocket knife. What the heck were they doing? What was Hun doing? He didn't think the Purple Dragons would go digging through a dumpster for fun. They had to be looking for something, but what?

While Sid and Tsoi didn't go down as hard as Fong, that was okay. He just needed them gone, or unconscious, so he could access the sewer entrance. And it probably wasn't very good to leave the Purple Dragons willing and able. They were always up to something suspicious, and this time was no different. It seemed that without the threat or aid of Shredder, without many of the other villians around New York, and without many of their usual exploits available, they had settled for being a different kind of nuisance.

Just as Casey was about to start laying into Hun, the man rose from the trashcan, looking much worse for wear from the last time Casey had seen him. He discreetly tucked something into his back pocket, and jumped over the side. Casey raised his bat and prepared to lunge forward, a "Goongala" on the tip of his tongue, but Hun raised his hand in a halt gesture, and apparently, that was enough for Casey to actually stop.

"My men and I will be leaving now. It's important to let the children tire themselves out, good exercise for them. I'm sure it's about your bedtime, too, Casey Jones. And you must be exhausted after the warmup, but rest assured, we will not go to war tonight. Run along home, boy."

When Casey didn't move, Hun laughed.

"Fine. Stay."

And just like that, Hun walked right past him. For whatever reason, Casey didn't stop him. He didn't know why; it was like he was frozen in place, like Hun's halt gesture had put some kind of spell on him. He'd likely mentally beat himself up for that later, especially after he figured out what Hun had managed to nab, but for now, all he really wanted to do was spend time with his second family. 

Weird, huh? Especially after all that he was unloading earlier.

Casey bent to unchain Sid and Tsoi, who ran after Hun with their tails in between their legs, Fong being brought along for the ride in Sid's arms.

He sighed. Man, that had felt good, and even though Hun's words stung just the slightest bit, he felt better after the whole ordeal than he had before. It was all just petty taunting, anyway. All he needed now was some company, a comic or maybe an epic action flick, and a hot meat-lovers pizza. Maybe the turtles could order some! 

After chaining his bike up behind one of the trash bins, he slipped under the manhole cover. Undetected.

You know, he should make an effort to visit the turtles more often.

Somehow, Casey had managed to come this realization as he walked down the tunnel, braving the atrocious smell of sewage and feeling the strain in his leg muscles grow worse the further he walked.

They weren't just tools for him to use to get into a fight, they were his friends. His family. He couldn't just throw them away when they didn't serve this selfish purpose of his, but alas, he was guilty. He did have backbone, however small it was, so to make things right, he'd work to do better. He owed them that much.

He could do that for them, even if there was little else.

Grrrr, no more self-deprecation! He was motherfucking Casey Jones, dammit, and he wouldn't rest until everybody in this city knew his name. Or, uh, everybody on this side of it. The entire city was a bit of a stretch.

He was strong, capable, badass, and most importantly, a total chick magnet. If anybody ever doubted him, they just didn't realize his full potential.

Because yeah, he wasn't a mutant, or an alien, or a trained martial artist. But he had a hockey stick, a bat, a taser, and he knew how to use them. He was young, and scrappy, and one day, he was going to be successful!

And while he probably wasn't the smartest and didn't like school, he used to be pretty good at math back in the day. Nowadays, not so much, but he didn't really apply himself, now did he? If Casey applied himself, he was sure he'd do pretty good in his classes, but with everything that had happened, who cared? In the grand scheme of things, what did school even matter? Especially for him. It wasn't like Casey was going to go to college.

But there were other ways to be successful...

Eventually, the tunnel he was walking down tapered out into a familiar abandoned train station. He still thought it was pretty sick that this was the spot the turtles had taken up; it was secluded, bigger than it looked, and probably pretty useful in some tactical way he wasn't entirely sure of, because although he'd never admit it, he didn't know all of the ins and outs. He was glad they'd gotten it back after that whole mess with the invasion, though.

Casey shuddered. Okay, let's not think about that again.

He slid past the guard rails into the main room, only to be met with a startling silence.

No, wait, it wasn't silent. If he strained his ears, he could hear noise coming from further into the lair. From Raph's room came the sound of beating drums. He could hear grunts from the dojo as someone, likely Leo, trained. And clanging in the kitchen suggested that Mikey was cooking something. No April, though sadly, that wasn't surprising. And Splinter was probably in the dojo with Leo, or something. Typical.

That still left someone missing, though.

Casey shrugged, snatching a stray comic book up from the couch, planning to find Donnie out of boredom and curiosity more than anything else. After that, he'd probably chillax with either Raph or Mikey for a while, maybe have a quick chat with Leo or something, and then head out. 

He opened Donnie's door, shocked to find him missing from his usual post. Donnie loved this lab. He loved it more than anything, besides his family, and it was prime time for him to be brewing up some new invention. Could Donnie be the one in the dojo? But then, where was Leo?

And that was when he spotted him. 

Body flat against the ground, eyes closed, mouth slightly open, knocked unconscious mere moments after collapsing.

Casey yelped, and raced over as quickly as his stick legs could carry him. The papers on Donnie's desk must had flown off when he'd fallen, and the metal pieces he tended to fiddle with while brainstorming had fallen to the ground with them. He sidestepped the obstacles and knelt by Donnie's side, quickly confirming that the turtle was breathing and that his heartbeat was steady. Other than the injuries the other day from Raph, he had no other obvious physical wounds. So then, what could have caused him to crumple?

As Casey hugged Donnie to his chest, feeling an odd sense of protection that he'd never felt for him before, he prayed. Not to any particular god, and not well, but he just prayed and begged that Donnie would wake up. Not even the slightly chill air or the sewer-y smell flowing through the door he'd never closed was able to interrupt his concentration.

But the problem with yelping was that most people never did it quitely enough.