Archive of Our Own ^beta

Food was always a gamble.

Whether it was the texture, the taste, the sound. There could always be something wrong that made him want to throw up. He was lucky that pizza had so many options. He could always order some other topping if he couldn’t stomach what his brothers were ordering. He had his favourites, sure, but it always felt like a game of managing to hit the sweet spot of nothing being disgusting rather than just ordering what he wanted to eat.

Some days were harder than others. Some days the mere concept of putting food in his mouth made him want to throw up. Those days, he tried to sleep as long as possible to ward off the hunger. Then, when he eventually couldn’t make himself sleep any more, he’d throw himself into work. Try to forget the breakfast he slept through, the late lunch that would inevitably be forced upon him. He loved his family, but they could be real pushy if they wanted (or needed) to.

The hunger came in waves. At times he’d have to stop his work just to get through the dizziness or the awful noises his stomach would produce. He’d feel like he had a fever, his head hurting, as if someone was pounding on it. Logically, he knew these were bad and signs that he should eat something before he collapses, but on the other side, it felt kind of good at the same time. To have his decisions have an effect on his body which so often went against him.

The times in between the hunger-waves were the best, though. When he could focus so incredibly on his work that nothing mattered, not even his own body. That feeling of nothing, emptiness. The lack of things inside him. It felt freeing, in a way. Like he could fly if he wanted.

There was a knock on his lab door and then a Leo in his face.

“Heyyyy Donald” he said. Oh god, not yet. Not while he’s this close to being done. “What do you want” he said as dryly as possible, not having enough energy to make it sound like a question. He was not in the mood for Leo’s antics right now. Leo somehow got even closer without touching Donnie (thank god). “I was gonna head out to buy some pizza, wanna join?” No, his brain answered immediately. He knew it was a way to trick him into eating. They always did this. Send Leo in, he was the best at convincing him, make Donnie join in getting pizza or making some food and then get him to eat whatever he could. It usually wasn’t much, never enough, but his family was happy with whatever they got. It shouldn’t work. Donnie had figured out their scheme years ago. It shouldn’t work.

Donnie is standing, shifting from leg to leg while waiting for Leo to order. He already told Leo what to get for him (margarita, not taking any chances today). Donnie feels oddly uncomfortable. Run of the Mill was usually a safe space, despite the noise from all the customers. On the way back he feels even more uncomfortable. He stops, letting Leo get ahead of him.

And then he’s suddenly on the ground.

“-nie, Donnie, Donnie, come on”

He feels awful and sluggish. He doesn’t have the energy to open his eyes, so he tries taking in what he can without looking. He can feel the solid ground beneath him and the pain in his back. His head is pounding, somehow even worse than before. He can feel someone, probably Leo, pick him up. It’s more like dragging him along, but he appreciates it nonetheless.

It takes a few minutes for him to have enough energy to open his eyes properly. He’s greeted with Leo’s relieved, though still stressed, face. “Oh thank god, you’re not dead” Leo mumbles. Was it that bad? Donnie had gone without eating for entire days before. What made today different? He tries standing on his own, but finds himself leaning on Leo for support.

The walk back to the lair was shorter than it should’ve been. Donnie blinked and he’d walked two steps, then he blinked again, and he’d walked ten. When he blinked next, he was suddenly in the lair again, laid out on the sofa. He tried sitting up, but a sudden wave of pain and nausea hit him and knocked him down. Groan, he said internally. He didn’t have the energy to speak, even if it was only to himself. Speaking of, where was Leo? Or anyone else for that matter. Donnie closed his eyes again, too tired to keep them open for long.

“He just fell and I’m really worried for him.”

Leo was sitting in the kitchen, head in his hands. A million scenarios ran through his head. Had Donnie slept enough? Eaten enough? Had enough water? Was he low on iron? Was it some sickness? Was he hurt and hadn’t told them? Some mystic curse??

“I’m sure he’s gonna be alright,” Raph reassured. He always did this. Leo appreciated it, but it was hard to believe him sometimes, like now. “He was conscious when you dragged him here, right?” “Yeah…” He’d been so scared that anything had happened to his twin. Heck, something did happen. You don’t just fall down for no reason. Leo had noticed that something was off about Donnie earlier today. He’d brushed it off at first, gave Donnie some space, but it seemed that had just made it worse.

“But what if he isn’t alright?”

Leo left before Raph could answer, eager to check on Donnie. He went to the sofa he put Donnie on and was surprised to see he was awake. He’d been out like a light the moment he laid down. “How are you, bro?” Leo sounded way more stressed than he would. Donnie took a moment to answer before he signed. ‘I’m good.’

Donnie then tried to stand up, but fell down. ‘Groan.’ “I don’t believe you, Tello.” Leo sat down beside Donnie while he talked. “You know you can tell me if something’s up, right?” Donnie didn’t answer. He just sat there, staring at the floor. ‘It’s my problem.’ Donnie signed after a little while. No, Leo wanted to say immediately. They were brothers, twins! They were supposed to share problems with each other, bear the weight together. Had Donnie forgotten that?

“Donnie.” Leo wanted to put his hands on Donnie’s shoulders to emphasise his words, but he was unsure on where Donnie stood on touch at the moment. Better safe than sorry, especially when it came to this. “You may think otherwise, but we are twins. And that means that we share our problems, always. No. Matter. What.” Leo stared at Donnie, who was still staring at the floor. “Now, I don’t care if you’ve finally committed arson or whatever, but I’ve got your back bro.” Leo could see Donnie smiling in that special way he does, where the corners of his mouth don’t actually turn upwards, but rather stop turning downwards. It made Leo smile whenever he saw it because it felt like a secret that he understood. It made him feel special.

‘I-’ Donnie started before apparently changing his mind. ‘Please don’t be mad.’ Was it really that serious? “I would never,” Leo reassured and it seemed like it worked. Donnie’s shoulders relaxed and he sat up straighter. ‘I haven’t eaten today. At all.’ A thousand thoughts ran through Leo’s head, all of them worried. The first coherent thought, however, wanted to make sure Donnie was okay, give him some sort of food.

Leo got up and went to the kitchen, grabbing whatever he could find. A glass of water, a few crackers, a banana. Donnie looked at him with a mix of gratitude and annoyance. He hated feeling like he was a burden, but he knew that Leo wouldn't give up until he ate something. And he was right. Leo kept shoving the crackers and banana towards him until Donnie caved and ate them. It wasn't much, but it was something. They sat in silence for a while, Donnie feeling a little bit better, but still not completely okay. Leo didn't push him to talk, but he didn't leave his side either. Sometimes, that was all Donnie needed.

‘Thanks’ Donnie signed after some moments. “Do you want to talk about it?” Leo asked. He must admit, he was curious. What could make Donnie stop eating? Was it sensory issues, maybe? Donnie took a second to answer, seemingly thinking really hard about something. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to.” Leo didn’t want Donnie to feel pressured.

‘No, I have to talk about this sometime.’ Donnie took a second before he continued. ‘I- sometimes food feels like it’s hurting me. It makes me want to vomit. Even thinking about food makes me feel worse. Some days are better than others and I’m fine most of the time. I don’t know what happened today to make it that much worse.’

“Donnie, when was the last time you ate?”

The question hit him harder than it should have.

When did he last eat? Wasn’t it yesterday? He couldn’t actually remember. He told Leo so. “Okay, I’m getting more crackers and a sandwich if you’re feeling up to it.” The thought of more than one ingredient in his food made him nauseous. ‘Just crackers, please.’ Leo nodded, headed to the kitchen and came back almost immediately with a pack of crackers and a big cup of water, his favourite cup. Donnie felt himself smile.

Leo stayed by Donnie's side for the rest of the day, making sure he ate something every few hours and giving him space when he needed it. Donnie was grateful, but also embarrassed. He hated showing weakness, but Leo made it seem like it was okay to not be okay. Maybe he could learn from that.

At the end of the day, he gave Leo a hug, finally craving touch rather than avoiding it. ‘I love you’ he signed. Leo responded at once, both signing and speaking. “Love you too bro.”