They both starred at one another in complete silence.
Dark blue eyes locked with brown ones, prodding for the other to start the conversation; to say anything.
Neither Leo nor Donnie knew just how or why they came to be in that room, alone in the quiet and waiting.
But they knew they needed it.
Each of them had so much to say; it'd been that way for over a year. An undying tension had strangled their relationship ever since the night of the Kraang's second invasion.
There were many unspoken words begging to come out.
So much pain begging to be healed.
And too many unspoken apologies needing to come out.
*** Post Revenge of the Triceratons, pre The Evil of Dregg.
If you haven't seen the episode yet, this fanfic contains spoilers. Read at your own digression.
Written in no one's P.O.V.
It was darkness that met Donatello's eyes when he jolted awake in a cold sweat. He desperately tried to mask his labored breathing as his eyes readjusted to the dim lighting around him. Of course he knew where he was the second he knew he was awake: in the group room on the ship where they all slept these days.
Donnie took a few moments to calm himself down as the events of the day were still lingering over him. It wasn't too often that they relied on Donnie to fix things anymore. Ever since they teamed up with the Fugitoid on their mad dash across galaxies to save the earth, they seemed to trust their genius robot guide rather than him.
'And why wouldn't they?' he'd often thought to himself.
The Fugitoid was far more advanced than he'd ever be, in every way possible. He'd even been told that by the robot in question, just the day before. And he'd believed it for weeks now; he saw it in the way the Fugitoid seemed to be the one to fix every problem they encountered.
Although Donnie was the one to rebuild the Fugitoid when the Triceratons came, ultimately it was Honeycutt who had saved them again in the end. And worse: they'd lost the pieces of the black hole generator. If he'd just rebuilt the Fugitoid faster...No, even more than that; if he'd been able to do anything useful in space at all, they wouldn't be in the situation.
For weeks, Donatello had watched everyone around him excel in the journey they'd undertaken. Mikey adapted to any and everything thrown at him. Raph met a girl and took down each bigger and badder threat thrown his way. Casey faced down everything bravely, no matter how outmatched he was. April's powers were growing stronger by the day, far more quickly than when he'd tried to train her back at home. Leo had turned out to be an even better leader in space, and he grew more and more comfortable into his role as captain with every passing day.
And all Donnie had accomplished was trying to keep up with the Fugitoid. When he would try to calculate a simple engine upgrade stat, the Fugitoid would correct his figures. Truth be told, Donnie had always felt inferior, but he had never felt so useless because of it until he'd ended up here. He harbored nothing but respect for the Fugitoid's mass intellect, but he couldn't lie and say he wasn't envious of it at times as well. Maybe he was selfish, wishing he was better so he could get some praise for once. Or maybe it would have been better if he'd stayed on earth while they all escaped...
Donnie shook his head with the thought, trying to expel it. As much as he believed that, he knew how badly it would hurt his brothers and friends. With his now-adjusted eyes, he checked the clock on the wall. It read 2:57 a.m. in New-York-City-Earth-time. He scanned the room around him, his eyes seeing the sleeping forms of his companions.
All of them seemed to be resting peacefully and easily. How, he didn't understand; he'd been frequently waking up throughout the night, the stresses of the day still accelerating his heart and darkening his dreams. He was tired, but he knew he wouldn't sleep again for sometime, and he didn't want to if he was being honest with himself. Too many dreams of what could have been had he not gotten Honeycutt back together in time. Of what could happen if they couldn't get the pieces together. Of Mikey, April and Casey desperately fighting off the "space gremlins." Too many memories of Leo shouting over and over and...
Leo wasn't there. Donnie quickly shot his eyes over to where his older brother (generally) slept. Right next to Mikey on the end, Leo's sleeping pad was bare, his blue blanket thrown carelessly to the side and the slight fading indent of where his head was resting on the pillow. Donnie frowned; Leo had been there when they all went to bed, hadn't he? Granted he didn't say much to them when they all laid down - he never really did lately - but he was there. Donnie distinctly remembered him promising something to Mikey about finishing an episode of Chris Bradford's Too Rough Crew, so where could he...
The question died in his head before he could finish it. He knew where Leo was, of course he did. They all knew where Leo was when he wasn't with them, because it had become habit. A rather nasty habit, in Donnie opinion. He debated for a few minutes wether or not he should actually do what he was thinking of. After all, he was still a little shaken from the day, and he and Leo never really discussed the whole screaming orders thing... Come to think of it, they never really discussed anything. But on the other hand, Donnie understood to some degree. Leo was facing something bigger than he could ever have imagined, and leading the team through the entire ordeal wasn't easy.
So Donnie had a choice: be a support system, or try to go back to sleep, because he didn't necessarily want to be around Leo for a while...but, had anyone been around Leo in a while? They all knew what he was doing, they all knew it wasn't good for him and they had definitely all talked about it. Even after Mikey had made a point of telling them Leo needed Splinter more than ever, Donnie had to pull him aside and explain to him why it wasn't the same. How Leo talking to a projection and thinking it was real was actually damaging.
Donnie didn't know when he had gotten up or began to make his way quietly down the hall towards the hologram room, but once he realized he was, his mind began racing at 1,000 thoughts per second. What would he even say to Leo once he confronted him? Should he confront him? Should he be doing this alone? What would Leo say in return? The possibilities were endless, and frightening. So frightening, that Donnie didn't know if he could do it.
On one hand, Donnie knew he needed to do something. It was 3 in the morning and this was not the first time any of them had woken up to notice Leo was gone, doing exactly this. It had become a worrisome habit. But on the other hand...this wasn't something Donnie wanted to handle. At least, not alone. Maybe he should turn around and go back to...
The thought never finished inside Donnie's brain, as he stopped when he heard the distant yelling of Master Splinter coming from behind the training room's closed door.
"Raise your katana higher, Leonardo!" The voice chastised.
Donnie's blood ran cold. He was a turtle of logic, and he knew logically that the voice was not real. He knew it was just a hologram. But hearing the harshness of it was what made Donatello freeze in the hallway.
Even more nervous than before, Donnie was now also more conflicted. He knew Leo was subjecting himself to intense training; more intense than it needed to be. After all, Donnie had never heard Splinter yell like that before, and because the hologram room's projections were based on memory, he wondered when Leo had. Curiosity got the better of him, and he opted to hide into the hologram's control room to observe. He convinced himself that watching Leo would help him choose a better course of action, a better method of approach. And hidden behind a one-way mirror of glass, he watched a horrifying scene unfold in front of him.
Leonardo was on his knees practically panting as he held his diato blade tightly while it rested on the floor. His shoto blade was safely sheathed on his back. He'd put it away and opted to fight with one sword after holding two just became too heavy for him. After all, he'd been at this for...how long? He didn't have the ability to check a clock, as there were none in the dojo, but his aching and muscles told him it had at least been a few hours.
He'd tried working with his two blades every few minutes, but the beat downs he was getting were making it too much. And he'd been chewed out by Master Splinter for being weak. So there he was, trying to calm his breathing and glaring at the tip of his blade on the floor in front of him. His heart beat was erratic and every part of his body was begging for him to stop, but he couldn't for so many reasons.
One being he had to be better. He absolutely and irrevocably had to be better. How was he supposed to save the world if he couldn't do this? If he couldn't handle a few simple training exercises? Well...simple was not the word. Leo had been pushing himself harder and harder every time he came in here, and lately, he'd been inching closer and closer to the hologram's highest difficulty rating.
The second reason being, if he wasn't in here, he wasn't being productive. He'd been having trouble sleeping at night, so what was the point of tossing and turning when he could be using his time more wisely? At least, that was what he told himself.
He was sweating and still breathing heavily as he kept his focus on the floor, berating himself in his head. Why couldn't he just do this right?
"Leonardo," Master Splinter's voice called out.
Leo turned his head from the floor until his gaze met his father's. Master Splinter was kneeling in his usual spot watching him.
"Again," was all Master Splinter told him.
"Hai, Sensei," Leo exhaled, annoyed with himself.
He pushed himself up on shaky legs, gripping his katana with one hand tensely as he raised his eyes to his opponent. Leonardo had been at this with the exact same enemy for so long, but he couldn't help but grit his teeth every time his eyes found the Shredder standing in front of his, arms crossed like he was staring back at nothing.
"Draw your other sword," Master Splinter commanded. "If you do this, I want to see you do this correctly."
Leonardo said nothing as he pulled his other blade off of his back. Shallow breaths were still flowing in and out of his open mouth. His sore arms dragged down by the weight of his dual katanas as the steel blades hit the floor. Leo cursed at himself and his body for being so worn out and forced himself into his ready stance with his entire body just wanting to collapse. But he wouldn't allow himself to do so. He could fail. Not again.
With a yell that came out more as a frustrated snarl, Leo lunged at the Shredder in front of him, whom had taken a defensive crouch. He swung both his blades at the same time with as much force as he could manage; one coming down from above while the other swung up from low. Shredder easily stopped both blades with the gauntlets on his arms. They stood still for a few seconds, Leo pushing back against him with everything he had left in him. But it wasn't good enough, and all Leo could do was glare at the man he hated more than anything in the world and brace himself for what he knew was coming. Without a word, Shredder's right foot slammed into Leo's exposed chest, knocking the air he'd been trying so desperately to keep in his lungs out and sending him flying, landing in front of Splinter of the ground with a hard thud. His swords were knocked out of his hands and he grunted, trying to mask the slight pain he felt.
He was a little dizzy from the impact of the floor, but a part of him thought he heard a gasp coming from somewhere. He shook off the thought, too dazed and trying to steady himself on the floor. Leo could practically feel Master Splinter's rage rolling off of him.
"You call that a strike, Leonardo, because I do not!" Splinter yelled at him from above. "You leave yourself wide open for attacks, which leaves you wide open for failure! How can I trust you to lead your brothers if you're willing to make such careless mistakes? How can any of us trust you to save the world when you are so-"
"Pathetic," Shredder finished the sentence for him.
Leo's eyes shot from Master Splinter to Shredder as he taunted him,
"You have always been pathetic, and you always will be, turtle," Shredder spit out. "You will never defeat me, no matter what you do. No matter how hard you train, you will never be able to stop me and you will never save anyone. Especially not the disgusting rat you call your father."
With those words, Leo couldn't lie on the floor anymore. He pushed himself up, exhaustion nearly forgotten, grabbed the sword closest to him on the floor at attacked. He swung wildly and rapidly, trying desperately to hit the Shredder in front of him. He was so focused on what he was doing that he failed to noticed the dojo around him faded and he was no longer training there, but fighting in Washington Square.
They had learned the training room was adaptive based on their memories. It could change if the main user simply willed it to, and Leo had noticed that at times, he would often trigger a change without even meaning to. This change forced him to go to a place he revisited too often accidentally. Everything around him was the same as that night. The worst night of his life.
Allies and enemies working together all around him, frantic to stop the Triceratons from activating the Heart of Darkness.
He only took a second to recognize this, but refused to break his focus on the enemy in front of him. He'd lived this exact scenario too many times at this point to know exactly what would happen if he couldn't stop the monster in front of him. He refused to relive the death of his father again.
So he fought. Leo pushed himself as hard as he could, frantically striking at any and every angle in front of him, hoping and praying he could land a hit. But with every block, Shredder just laughed harder and harder. And Leo grew more and more angry. The more angry Leo got, the more careless his swings became, and the more inaccurate he became as well. It wasn't long before Leo missed completely, and that was the only opportunity Shredder needed. He batted Leo down, stomping him and pinning him to the ground with his foot. And though every cell in Leo's body was protesting, screaming for him to get up, he just couldn't.
His eyes wondered at the chaos around him and it was like he was seeing everything in slow motion. His friends all getting beaten down by Triceratons. Top Triceraton scientist pressing buttons and observing as the Black Hole Generator began to respond and light up, signaling its activation. And Master Splinter, standing in the middle of it all, looking so disappointed by Leo's failure that it felt like it was causing him to be physically sick.
Leo didn't notice when Shredder had moved away from him andover to Master Splinter. He never registered the Shredder's foot lifting off of him, freeing him from captivity and allowing him to move if he could force himself to do it. But he did notice when Shredder's gauntlet pierced through Master Splinter's body again, and the light leaving Master Splinter's eyes as he fell forward. And he did notice when a violent "NOOOOOO" tore from his throat.
How many times Leo had unintentionally forced the hologram room to replay this scene, he'd lost count. But he did know it never got any easier to see, no matter how many times he saw it. Leo's eyes snapped shut as he pulling himself to his knees with all his strength. He clenched his fists, punching the floor on either side of him him angrily. He'd failed, again. He'd been working on the exact same training simulations every night since the Fugitoid set up their training room, and he'd beaten almost every villain he went up against. Rahzar and Fish Face? Easy. Bebop and Rocksteady? Pieces of cake. Tiger Claw? Challenging but doable. Shredder? Not a chance. He'd never even come close to defeating Shredder and saving his father, despite how many time he'd tried. How many different attacks he'd used. It was never enough; he was never enough.
At one point, the rough cement he'd been punching was replaced by cool metal. The second he registered the change, Leo's eyes snapped open. The floor and the harsh white light of the training room almost burned his eyes as they unintentionally leaked streaks of salt water. Tears he didn't even realize were falling had begun to pool around him, but that didn't bother him. No, what bothered him was that he hadn't turn off the room. He wasn't done. No, he wouldn't rest until he'd gotten this right. He couldn't afford to, there was simply too much at stake.
That was when heard the sound of the door opening, and he looked up to meet the awkward and concerned stare of his brother, Donatello.
It never took Donnie long to figure out things. Just like it didn't take him long to figure out the hologram room had a history log. A system within the computer that kept a visual record of every place the hologram room had projected, and every person projected in it. All in neat little file folders.
Donnie had watched Leo for barely three minutes before he couldn't take seeing his brother's imagination project an angry Splinter at him, so he started sifting through the controls, seeing if there was a way to make it easier for Leo without him realizing it had been tampered with. Donnie assumed that if Leo could beat the simulation, he'd call it a night and go to bed. Or that's what he hoped for, at least.
So it was while Donnie began going through the program looking for the difficulty settings - that apparently only Leo had found, seeing as he used the hologram room so often - that he discovered the log. Although Donnie wasn't completely fluent in the languages they were discovering in space, he had figured out the symbols he was reading next to the folders represented dates. And he realized that there was a record for every single day since they first used it. He blinked a few times, trying to make sure he was reading that right.
They hadn't trained in there every single day. The did it quite often, but not every single day. That meant Leo was in here constantly; that he'd been the one using this every single chance he got. He truly tried to contain the gasp that escaped his lips, but he couldn't stop it from coming out. He slammed his hands over his mouth and looked through the one-way mirror, seeing if Leo had caught on to him. When Leo didn't seem phased, Donnie continued his analysis of the computer logs. The results he found gave him a hallow feeling in his chest. He went through day after day, identifying each of the locations Leo had projected, each giving him a different emotion.
He felt a sadness when he saw the most-used projection was their home, specifically the dojo, where Leo was right now. He felt pain when he saw the Technodrome and replayed Leo's frantic escape (something that Donnie had never actually seen before, or bothered to ask Leo about, because he never wanted to know; he was just thankful Leo made it out). He felt immense guilt when the construction site popped up a few times, where Leo had gotten seriously injured in his fight against a Foot army and the Shredder. And he felt heartbreak when he saw Washington Square, the place where they had lost the battle for earth and their father.
Overwhelmed, he shifted to the side of the log containing the villains they'd trained against. There were the standards like Rahzar, Fishface, Dogpound, Bebop and Rocksteady. Even Tiger Claw and a few Kraang droids were saved, ready to be activated again for practice sessions. He'd found a few different Triceratons that would pop up randomly from their random use. But what caused him to feel like he'd been punched in the gut was that he'd noticed the exact same number of projections on both Master Splinter and Shredder.
As if fate would have it, that was the moment Donnie heard Splinter's voice again.
"You call that a strike, Leonardo, because I do not!" Splinter shouted, drawing Donnie's eyes up from the screen and into the room while his brother lay on the floor on all fours, out of breath and taking the abuse like he believed he deserved it.
He could feel a regret as he realized, in that moment, just how badly Leonardo was hurting. How much pressure Leonardo was putting on himself. And how much Leonardo truly believed the fate of everything was his cross to bear and his alone. Donnie felt his eye twitch slightly as the realization hit him like a boom of thunder hits the airwaves: suddenly and violently.
Donatello watched, unable to move, as he realized Leo was training against the Shredder, and the Shredder was berating him mercilessly. But it wasn't really the Shredder, it was Leo's own mind doing this to himself. Donnie had always known this habit of Leo's, this coming in and using the training room so much was never a good thing, but now that he realized the degree of severity that this had reached...
"Fuck, Leo..." Donnie muttered under his breath.
It was all he could manage to say. And he didn't think it could get any worse than what it was: watching Leo push himself past his limits and swinging his weapons around in a way Donnie had never seen Leo fight before. It was frantic, it was unformed and chaotic. It was hurt and pain and too much emotion. It was blind rage. It was insanity. But Donnie was wrong, because it did get worse.
Donnie watched in horror as the dojo faded into an all-too familiar scene: the scene from the earth's last night. Fires were burning and lasers were shooting through the air. Triceratons were fighting against everything and every one. He even spotted himself fighting against a few of them. This was Leo's memory of that night from hell. And Donnie knew what was coming next the second he saw Leo go down.
He couldn't stand for it. It had been almost two months since that night, since their father's death, and Donnie was a lot more emotionally stable than he was in the beginning. But seeing it play out again in front of him was something he knew couldn't handle. And all the yelling, all of Leo's dead-focus on their cross-galaxy mission, all of the worry and anxiety and everything...it all just made sense in that moment. Leo was forcing himself to go through all of this because he either believed he deserved it, or because he thought it would make him better. Maybe even some crazy combination of both, or of more. Donnie couldn't pinpoint it. But he knew with absolute certainty that despite whatever lingering tension there was between he and his brother...it didn't matter in those moments. What mattered was Donnie, helping Leo, because more than ever, the leader in blue needed it.
Donnie managed to find his legs just seconds before that fateful moment with Splinter was going to happen, and he bolted from the control room as quickly as he could, sprinting full speed to the entrance of the hologram room. More than anything, he wanted to stop the scene from playing before it could happen, because even though he knew it was fake, he now knew Leonardo believed it was real. However, he knew he failed to make it there in time when he heard the frantic "NOOOO!" scream coming from the other side of the wall.
Upon reaching the door, Donnie realized it was locked. He cursed under his breath and began frantically punching in codes on the door's control panel.
The first thing he did was shut the room down. Granted, he could have done that from the control room, but the moment he found his feet again, he followed his instinct and just ran. It just seemed like the better option at the time. Beeping noises confirmed the room's simulation was terminated. Immediately after that, Donnie began punching in the unlock code. The door accepted, and the red lighting changed to green.
The door took what seemed like an eternity to slide open, and Donnie threw himself through the threshold. Almost instantly, his eyes locked with Leonardo's bloodshot, puffy ones. He wasn't sure what look was on his face, but all he knew was it had Leo both confused and startled.
And then he himself began to feel fear, because he realized he had no idea what to say.
The silence between them stretched on for what felt like hours, but in reality it had to have only been a few seconds. Donatello knew this, but the awkward tension in the room was so thick, it could have been cut with one of Leonardo's katanas. Sense when was it so hard to address one of his brothers?
There was never this much stress when he was yelling at Mikey over something. Wether he was correcting him for being empty-headed or for messing with one of his experiments, it was always easy to scold him. But Leo didn't need scolding, and it probably would have made the moment worse. For all the times that Donnie had the opportunity to sass Raph for whatever reason, he took those moments with ease too. It was almost fun whenever he got the gift of a sarcastic moment, a rebuttal to either lighten the mood or to prove a point. But Leo didn't need sarcasm, and it wouldn't fix anything.
Leo needed something more; Leo needed comfort. An area of human nature Donatello tended to stray from. Usually that was...Leo's job. How was he supposed to comfort the comforter? He was the science guy, the one who did machines and tried to stay away from emotions whenever he could. So...this would be a learning experience for sure. And so farm he was failing, because all he could do was stand there and analyze every in of Leo, deducing him.
Red eyes, slightly swollen with tear tracks down his face, not entirely dry; he's been crying in here. Slightly panting, out of breath from overextending himself with screaming and thrashing. Wide-eyes, mouth slightly open, he's shocked-no, just surprised to see me, no signs of a panic attack...
Unbeknown to Donnie, Leo was doing the same thing from the floor.
Standing straight up, tense shoulders, so he feels awkward. Eyes slightly red, not like he's been crying, but like he just hasn't gotten enough sleep. Lip slightly twitching, like he is going to say something but can't word it. His fists are balled, he's angry-no, not angry; frustrated.
And then, they simultaneously thought, eyes all over me; he's trying to figure out why I'm here.
They both remained silent, neither of them wanting to say anything until the other started. Eventually, Leo decided he had to be the first to speak, or to do something. He couldn't take Donnie's strict studying; he felt like a specimen under a microscope with the way he could tell Donnie was picking him apart. But what could he say, exactly? Sorry if I was screaming too loud? He knew they were all wary of his overuse of the hologram room, but he had every right to use it if he wanted to..
Leo opened his moth to speak, but he couldn't force any words out. So instead he just settled on clearing his throat uncomfortably. It was louder than he intended it to be. Donnie jumped slightly at the sound like he was not expecting it. His eyes locked with Leo's, and he chewed his bottom lip. Leo recognized the mannerism; it was something Donnie did when he was focusing on something.
"Uh, hey, Donnie..." Leo said softly, rising to his feet and rubbing the back of his neck. "S-sorry if I was being too loud in here, I didn't think I'd wake anyone up. I thought Fugitoid said the walls were sound proof so, you know, I just assumed that, uhh, you know...down the hall it'd be quiet and..."
"They're not sound proof," Donnie responded.
"Oh...oh, right. Okay, wow. Definitely heard that one wrong then, that was pretty...careless, my bad. I didn't mean to wake you up if I did..."
Leo was rambling. He knew he was, but he couldn't stop it. The words kept spilling out. Donnie just looked at him, still so perplexed. It only made Leonardo feel more ungainly.
"Anyways, I was just uh, getting some training in before bed," Leo laughed a little more than necessary...or not necessary at all, because nothing was funny in the moment. He just didn't know what else to do, but he did know he wanted to be anywhere in the galaxy but there. "It's probably getting a little late. 'Bout time to call it a night?"
"Leo, it's almost 3:30 in the morning," Donnie meekly filled in.
Leo winced. He'd been at this far longer than he realized. And now here was his brother; his very intelligent brother, who definitely knew what he was doing. Leo wasn't sure what he wanted, either. Maybe he really was being too loud...?
"W-wow, that late, huh?" Leo laughed again; why was he doing that? "Then it's definitely time to call it a night! Did you need something, Don? Why are you here?"
Donnie blinked a few times, not sure how to respond. He could let this go now, and bring it back up later when he had more backup, and more time to plan out what to say. That seemed like the smarter option...but it also didn't seem right to keep putting this off any longer. Even a few more hours seemed like too much. Leo's behavior had escalated to a higher point than he initially realized. Talking to Splinter in there was one thing. Letting Splinter criticize him all night long and putting himself in extreme physical strain this repeatedly had crossed a line. The pressure from the day was flashing in his mind. The constant weight of knowing he needed to do something, and not knowing how...it was too much again.
"I was watching you," he blurted out before he could stop himself. In that moment, he felt as brainless as Mikey could be sometimes. He would have slapped himself if he wasn't sure it wouldn't have made him look crazy.
Leo's awkward smile fell as quickly as it had come, paired with a weak"...Oh." It was all he could say.
The silence returned. Leonardo looked down at the floor, intently focused on nothing in front of him. Donnie kept his eyes locked on Leo's face. He'd already begun this, and there was no way he could get out of it now. This had to be done, no matter how uncomfortable either of them seemed.
"Well, yeahh," Leo offered, not looking up. "Sorry. I guess we can just go back to bed then."
"No, we need to talk," Donnie responded immediately, "about this. All of this."
Donnie began waving his hands, gesturing to the entire room. Leo could see it though he still wasn't looking directly at Donnie. The floor was just suddenly all too interesting as the weight of realization came down upon him. He wasn't going to get out of talking about it. Not this time.
The other day, in Varuna, he'd walked in on them talking about it; about everything he'd been doing. But they were instantly sidetracked, and he had been thankful for it. From what he could hear before he'd entered the room, he could tell they weren't pleased with that he was doing. But he couldn't help it. He needed that hologram room to keep himself grounded. He needed to remember the look of his home, the voice of his Sensei and the feeling of his old life. Space was cool at times, and whenever he wasn't stressed about the mission at hand, he genuinely loved the opportunity to explore places unseen and discover things unknown, just like Captain Ryan did. But Leo couldn't deny that he was homesick, and that he loved having a place he could go to feel like he was home. Like everything was okay. Leo figured if they could figure that out on their own, they wouldn't have understood any better if he tried to explain it to them.
"I'd rather not," Leo muttered.
Donnie sighed, rubbing his temples and Leo finally looked back up at him, trying to figure out what the reaction meant.
"Look, Leo, I'm not good at this type of thing," Donnie said. "I'm not good at talking about stuff like this. But I am good at prioritizing and figuring stuff out. Maybe, if you give me the chance, I can figure this out."
Leo pursed his lips, and shook his head after a moment of thinking.
"It's not a problem, Donnie," Leo said. "I know you guys think it is, but I'm okay. I really am. I just need to blow off some steam, and this is the best way to do it. Or at least, it's my favorite way. Just, let me have this. It's fine."
"Don't even give me that, Leo. It's not fine. You know it's not."
Leo flinched like Donnie had just struck him. Donnie kept his eyes locked on his face, and he could see Donnie wasn't going to drop the issue. The confusion was still there, but there was also determination now. And encouragement. Leo figured he might as well give him the chance. If anything, he couldn't get out of talking apparently.
Donatello wasn't blind or unempathetic to Leo's reserve. Truth be told he didn't want to have to be the one to handle this alone, but he needed to. He needed to understand why, and Leo needed to understand that he wasn't alone. That was when Donnie had an idea.
"Hang on," he instructed as he backed out of the door.
Leo could head the responding beeps of the control pad as Donnie reprogrammed the room again. Leo waited, wondering what he was doing.
The white walls around them faded, replaced by the all-too familiar walls of their dojo. Leo looked around, somewhat smiling. He'd been in there almost every night, and yet the novelty of it never diminished in the least. He loved his home, and going back was just as good every time. Master Splinter was absent, as was the Shredder or any of the others he'd train with. It was just an empty dojo. His empty dojo.
Leo couldn't remember the last time he'd programmed this simulation just to be in there. Just to look around and be surrounded by the familiar he craved so much. The tree that Master Splinter had somehow managed to grow. Their weapons all hanging on the sides. The multiple rugs covering the floor. The alter dedicated to Splinter's family decorating the wall. All of it. All of it was just...it was home. No enemies around him and no father he had lost but hadn't lost at the same time.
Leonardo was home.
Donnie slipped into the hologram room and slid the door shut behind him. He watched as Leo looked around those first few seconds, like he was anticipating an enemy to come out. But when he realized one wasn't coming, he visibly relaxed, like Donnie predicted he would. Donnie had always noticed the dojo back at home had brought Leo a sense of calmness. Whenever they'd had a stressful mission, or the rare occasional failure, Leo would almost always end up in the dojo, meditating or talking to Splinter. It was like an anchor for him, keeping him grounded. And Donnie hoped it could help them out here.
After a few moments, Leo exhaled deeply. He walked to the center of the room, and kneeled in a typical position, like he was going to mediate over something. But he never closed his eyes. He kept looking forward, like he was pondering how to start this. That was when Donnie took the initiative.
"So, why?" Donnie asked as he kneeled down in front of Leo. "Why do you do this?"
"It's just training," Leo answered. "I'm just working on getting better. We have a lot of work to do, me especially, and I want to make sure I truly am giving it 110 percent when I fight."
"No, Leo," Donnie shook his head, and Leo tiled his to the side confused. "There's a fine line between training, and driving yourself into the ground, bro. I know you train harder than any of us - I'm not saying you don't! - but you're not always in here just 'training,' as you say. You come in here and you talk to Master Splinter. Sometimes you relive situations you've been through, like you're trying to change the outcome. I want to know why, Leo. No more excuses. No more running away. I promise I'll try to understand, because you know me; you know I like to understand. Just tell me why."
Donnie exhaled sharply when he finished. This was hard enough, and Leo dodging questions wasn't making it easier.
Leo didn't know how to answer the question, or even if he could. None of his brothers had ever really expressed this much concern over what he was doing. He never realized it was this big of a deal. He didn't want to feel bad about what he was doing, but he didn't want to entertain the thought that it could have been hurting his family. Had he been so obsessed with his makeshift therapy that he'd been oblivious to those around him?
"Look, Don," Leo began, his voice shaking. "I don't know what to tell you. To me, all I'm in here doing is training. I'm working hard so we don't fail again. I don't see what's so wrong with that-"
"Leo, you are torturing yourself," Donnie snapped. "Stop avoiding my questions because you think I won't be able to see this from your side. Maybe I will, maybe I won't. But my point is your not giving me the chance to. So, now I'm done skirting around this. I'm sorry we should and now I realize we have done this much earlier. But we didn't; we're here and we're not leaving until you answer every single one of my questions. So go."
Leo clenched his fists at his sides. He wasn't angry at Donnie, not at all. He was angry at himself, because he didn't know how to answer. He didn't know how to say it all, because there was a lot. But he remembered some words Master Splinter had given him in those moments, when they took a meditation day together and Leo laid out so many things he was worried about. Master Splinter had told him take things one step at a time.
And so he did.
"I just...I wanna go home, D," Leo told him honestly and unable to meet his eyes. Leo knew they all wanted that, and he felt selfish, like he was alluding that maybe he was more homesick than the rest of them, but he didn't say anything about it. Donnie wanted honesty, Donnie deserved honesty. He was trying to help him, it was the least he could do. So he continued."If I could, if it was an option, I'd turn this ship around and just go home," Leo admitted. "I wouldn't even worry about that last piece of the Black Hole Generator. If I could, I'd go home right now and try to forget that all of this happened. I'd sleep - actually sleep - in my own bed in my room. I'd patrol the city at night, happily knowing that the biggest threat we'd probably come across would be the purple dragons trying to mug someone. I'd run through the sewer tunnels just because I could. I'd train with Master Splinter and all of you guys in the dojo and I'd gladly eat whatever weird type of pizza Mikey would invent because we could. I miss that. I miss not having to worry about this crazy impending deadline that I've lived the past two months worrying about. I miss not having the pressure of knowing that if we screw up-no, if I screw up, if I make a bad call and we fail, everything, literally everything, is gone. Boom. Lost forever. I just...I want to go back. I want to go home. And this room, lets me do that. That's why I'm always in here. Because in here, I can pretend I don't have the fate of the world riding on my shell. I can go a few minutes, even a few hours, without having to remember that everyone's counting on me to fix something I honestly do not believe I can fix. We've fought and failed in the past before. We've screwed up before. And at times, it's even seemed like we've lost everything before...but this is so much different. This is permanent. This is final. And I just...I hate knowing that it's all on me, because I honestly don't believe in myself anymore."
Leo stopped himself, he couldn't keep track of what he was saying. Once he started letting his thoughts form the words in his mouth, he couldn't stop them from spilling out. He chanced a look up at Donnie who's expression was unreadable. And it worried him that he couldn't figure out what was going on in that giant brain of Donnie's.
Donatello had absorbed Leo's words like a sponge, and had related to them. That was how he felt earlier that day, when the Triceratons boarded their ship and made off with the Triceraton pieces, all because Donnie had failed to put the Fugitoid back together quickly enough. All of that pressure Leo talked about, Donnie had felt it too. All of that "if I fail, the world is lost" stuff? Check it off the list because Donnie knew 100% how it felt for sure.
Leo was chewing on his lip. Donnie's silence and pensive face gave him no comfort. Had he said too much? Did it not make sense? Did Donnie not understand? He didn't know. And he was about to rattle off apologies when Donnie finally found his voice again.
"Yeah, I get that," Donnie told him. "I know how you feel."
There was a stillness in the air between them. Leo knew Donnie was being completely genuine, but he wasn't sure how he could understand. Donnie took the silence to continue.
"I mean, I really do get it, Leo," he said. "All of that, those feelings you described? That was how I felt yesterday. When Fugitoid was down and everyone was looking at me to fix everything...I get it. I remember thinking those exact thoughts too. How everything would be doomed if I couldn't save the day. And ultimately, I did fail. I couldn't get myself together quickly enough. The Triceratons got the fragments back."
"No way, Don, that wasn't on you," Leo quickly stopped him. "That was me. I didn't do anything right, I didn't make the right calls. All I accomplished was yelling at you the whole time, and that wasn't fair."
"You only yelled because you're so stressed out," Donnie corrected him. "We were all in danger because I couldn't get it together. I was the one who didn't do their job correctly, and we lost because of that."
Donnie didn't mean to make the conversation about him. He didn't intend to bring up the day before. It just...happened? He wasn't trying to put himself before Leo, but once he realized that Leo had described his exact feelings; once Donnie truly understood he wasn't alone in feeling like it was all his fault, it was like he was relieved and miserable at the same time. He couldn't explain it.
"Look, Leo, it's not just your fault," Donnie started again. "If I had just tried to put the Fugitoid back together when you first told me to, we probably wouldn't have lost the fragments in the first place. So if we really can't do this in the end, if we lose everything...it's not your fault. It's mine. I'm the one who's useless here."
"Don't ever say that again, Donatello," Leo spoke gently, causing Donnie to look up at him. "In the end, you saved us all. You're the reason we're still alive, and because we're still alive, we still have a chance; the earth still has a chance. I'd describe you in a lot of different ways, bro, but useless is the farthest thing from the truth. Do you even know how many times you've saved us? How many times you've saved the earth?"
"All I do is build things out of junk, and I don't believe in luck but thats definitely what's gotten us through, not me," Donnie muttered.
"No way, Don!" Leo responded. "You're right in a sense, you do build things out of garbage...but you do what no one else can do. You've built and accomplished amazing things with so little. And the fact that you're self-taught? How about that? I know you're comparing yourself to Fugitoid, and all of the things he can do. But look, he's had the means and who knows how much time to do all of the things he's done. You've have 15 years, random bits of junk and a few spare Kraang parts. The feats you've accomplished are way more significant. How can you not see that, bro?! You've always come through when we needed you most, always. You've never let any of us down, and any situation you think you have, tell me right now and I'll prove you wrong."
Leo's eyes were full of fire, determination. They were daring Donnie to speak. And Donnie wanted to, so so badly. But something about the way Leo spoke said he couldn't win this argument. So he opted to stay silent.
"I know you don't believe me, Donnie, but it's true," Leo said with finality. "You've done incredible things, and there isn't one person on this ship who doubts that. Like I already said, you have never let us down, and you've definitely never let me down. You've always come through for me when I needed you the most, and I know I don't ever...tell you that. I don't ever thank you enough. And I'm sorry for that. I can't imagine what it's like to be yelled at all the time in these horrible situations and still be able to accomplish the amazing things that you do. I'm sorry I've never said this, but thank you. You've saved our shells more times than I can count, and you've saved mine more times than I deserved. I'll try to be better, I promise. I'm sorry I yelled at you yesterday, and I don't want you to ever believe that you aren't the smartest person in the world bro, because you are."
There weren't ever moments when Leo liked to admit that he had done wrong. Usually he just moped about it, because he didn't like failing or letting people down. Donnie knew this, so he could appreciate how much it took for Leo to say all of those things. And he knew Leo wasn't a liar. (Those few times they'd been forced in to situations where they had to lie, he'd always do a terrible job.) It was laughable how bad of a liar Leo was, and that's what Donnie did. He laughed because he felt relieved. He laughed because he felt better about himself. And he laughed at the irony that this conversation had flipped on him. He wasn't letting that go.
Leo looked at him confused, and waited for the laughter to die down. Part of him was content to see Donnie genuinely happy, because he knew he had stressed him out beyond measure at times. Leo owed this to his brother, so he let him have the moment and didn't verbally question it. He just smiled and let it happen.
"Thanks Leo," Donnie finally managed to get out after his laughter cut down significantly. "That means a lot, but don't think you're getting out of this."
It was Leo's turn to laugh, though it was a only a small chuckle.
"Didn't think it would hurt to try," he said.
They both let themselves calm down, Leo bracing himself for the conversation he knew was coming.
"I appreciate the apology, I really do," Donnie said. "So thank you for that. And I do forgive you, so don't worry about that. But I am worried about you; we all are. And you yourself said why: you're pretending this is real."
"It just makes it easier," Leo shrugged.
"What about this makes it easier?" Donnie challenged. "You're putting yourself through training far beyond what you're capable of handling. How much longer until you get hurt?"
"That's the problem," Leo told him. "I can't handle it, and I need to be able to."
"No, Leo, you don't," Donnie responded. "You're handling this like you handle everything else: alone. We're all here with you. We're all in this crazy mess together, and no turtle goes alone."
"But I'm the leader," Leo argued back. "It's my job."
"But no, Leo, it's not your job to think you have to do everything by yourself. It's not your job to blame yourself when things go wrong. It's not your job to worry yourself to the point where you think that you need to subject yourself to this type of emotional and physical strain to make it right."
"But-" Leo began.
"No, no more arguing," Donnie chided him. "I didn't interrupt you when you were talking, and I wanted to. So you have to listen to me.
Leo looked conflicted, like he was strongly against listening. But Donnie knew his brother wouldn't disrespect him. Donnie knew he would listen.
"I'm not against you, Leo," he explained. "None of us are. We just...we want you to know we're here, okay? That your real family is here. You coming in here all the time and talking to Master Splinter? It's a coping mechanism and we get it. Even Mikey understands. And we all miss him too, Leo. We all wish he was here to tell us what to do, but that's why he made you the leader. He has an unshakable faith in you just like we all do. He knows your smart enough to make the right calls on your own, without him having to guide you all the time. And I think it's a shame you can't see that on your own. Pretending like this is real, it isn't helping you see that. You're forming a dependency on this and wanting to believe that it's the real Splinter telling you all of these things you think you need to hear. But that's the secret of the hologram room, bro. It's all based on memory. What the Splinter you see here is telling you, is literally just you telling yourself the things you already know but refuse to believe in. You are the leader, you are strong enough and brave enough and kind enough and smart enough to get us through this. You told me a few minutes ago how I've never failed you, and now it's my turn to tell you the exact same thing."
Leo waited a few moments to make sure Donnie was truly done. He wanted so badly to believe Donnie's words. He wanted it almost as badly as he wanted to go home, but there was still that one thought. There was still that one, dark, lingering question hovering over him. Hovering over them all. And Leo didn't know if Donnie had the answer to it, but they were both getting everything else out, and this couldn't stay buried.
"But what happens if we fail...?" Leo whispered.
It didn't take someone of Donatello's intelligence to know that, of course, that would be the one thing holding Leo back. The fear of failing. The fear of knowing that this time, that this mission, were far more critical than anything they'd ever faced before. And Donnie knew that pressure could kill someone. Leo had fought his way through until now, and he wasn't going to let it stop his brother now.
"I'll be honest with you, I don't know," Donnie said evenly. "It's a question I've been trying to answer just like you have. We've all spent hours wondering about this. And really, I can't give you a straight answer. This isn't a straight out equation I could work out and have a solid and certain answer. There are too many variables to look at."
It only lasted for a brief moment, and Donnie didn't miss it. All the color drained from Leo's face so momentarily, and his eyes looked so sad for a fraction of a second. He let that barrier fall for just long enough for Donnie to see that Leo was truly afraid of all of the unknown he was facing. It was scary to see the amount of pain that flashed so quickly before it was hidden again, but that moment had finally given Donnie an answer to that question.
"But there is a common denominator in all of this," he said, his voice picking up enthusiasm. "We've been here before: where everything was know and love is at stake and we've only got this once chance and blah, blah, blah...this isn't anything new, honestly. We beat the laws of physics daily. I'm pretty sure we've cheated death a few times, too. Maybe that's why the universe puts us in these situations, ya know? Because we've bested it too many times."
Leo looked on, so lost and so desperate for Donnie to clarify what he was getting at.
"I mean sure, we've been in different situations, but the end result was always the same: if we lose, we lose everything," Donnie continued. "But there's one thing that remained the same every time. And it's how we always seem to beat the odds. The answer is so obvious, Leo. It's kind of hilarious how we haven't seen it before."
"Donnie, I hate to be the one to tell you this, but you're kind of a genius so...you should rally explain the whole 'it's so obvious' factor," Leo prompted.
If it was appropriate, Donnie would have laughed again. The answer truly had been obvious, a single word. One single word that defined how they always seemed to make it out. And not one of them had been able to string it together. It was ludicrous.
"The fact is, Leo, that whenever we've faced something," Donnie said, smiling, "is that we've always, always, faced it together. And that's how we'll handle this. Together. We'll all push through this together, as a team. We have every reason to win, and we will. But if that one in a million chance happens, and we somehow lose...well, we'll handle that exactly the same. We all have each other. That's all we need."
Neither of them were aware who initiated the hug or when it started or how long they just held each other for, but at one point they let go, trying to see if the other one had been crying. Both of them had needed that moment, for so long. Both Leo and Donnie had just needed an instance where they sat together and just hashed everything out. They didn't plan on it, nor did they realized just how bad it was until they actually got through it. But both of them were glad they did. Both of them were glad they had each other.
And both of them felt so much better.
"It's pretty late," Leo said.
"About 4:16 in the morning if my calculations are correct," Donnie added.
"Which they probably are," Leo commented. "I'd say you're about 90% accurate with that estimate."
"92%," Donnie joked. "But now 100% as I just looked up at the clock on the wall over there, and it is indeed 4:16 a.m."
With a light punch to Donnie's shoulder, Leo stood up, Donnie mirroring his actions.
"So how long until we get to...where ever we're going?" Leo asked, stifling a small yawn.
"Magdomar? According to the Fugitoid, we've got another few days," Donnie supplied.
"I think we could probably get a few hours of sleep in between now and then," Leo said. "But for real, Donnie, thank you for that. And for, well, everything."
"Anytime, Leo," Donnie smiled as they both headed out through the door and down the hall. "Thank you too."
They didn't exchange any more words as they made their way back to their beds. They didn't need to. Donnie and Leo almost never had moments, but that was because they never truly realized how much they needed to. Nor did they realize how much they needed each other. and both of them were glad they could have been there for each other.
Both of them had fallen asleep fairly quickly, the exhaustion relentlessly caught up to them both the second their heads hit the pillows. And the rest was more peaceful than it had been in months. Hours later as their companions awoke, they decided to let Leo and Donnie sleep in. None of them had seen Leo look so content in weeks, and they knew Donnie had had a rough day before. So they snuck out, leaving the blue and purple turtles more time to sleep.
None of them knew what they were heading into. None of them knew if they would make it out or what would happen. But one thing was for sure: they had each other, and that was all they'd ever need.