A/N: Hey everyone, so I wrote up this one-shot. This takes place when Leo and Donnie are at the end of their life cycle, and things haven't been so great between them. I got inspiration for this fic from the song "Second Chances" by Imagine Dragons. Anyways, I hope y'all will like it! Happy Reading! ^.^
There was a fine layer of dust spread across the workbench. Cobwebs stretched among the tools and boxes. And a dim light flickered above.
Such a poor state, his lab had become.
In his leathery, worn hands, he held a small glass of whiskey. His faded brown eyes scanned the sight of the room, bags heavy beneath the ragged purple mask. Such a long time, and yet, hadn't been long enough.
He brought the glass to his lips and shot it back. It burned as he choked the liquid down, searing within the pit of his stomach. Swallowing hard, he clenched his eyes shut to hold the water back.
Donatello never did like whiskey, but it was all he had…Then with a hard frown, he shut off the light and turned his shell to the room. He didn't want to look at it any further, since it brought up unpleasant memories. So without another glance, he shut the door behind him and walked through the darkened living room.
He eyed the area before settling his sight on the center. The couch sagged, cushions indented, but it still looked comfortable enough. Don dragged his feet against the cold stone, listening to the scraping of his toes. So tired, and yet, not tired enough.
Plopping down into his seat, it creaked underneath his weight. He was never as heavy as his brothers had been, but the couch could barely handle anything at this point. Just like him.
All he wanted was to rest.
Rest eternally.
Then again, life hadn't been so bad…had it? A soft chuckle passed his lips, "No, I suppose not. I did get my fill of things in the end." His voice was hoarse with age, but still had the undertones of warmth.
"Yes, you did," a weary voice responded.
Donatello stiffened, but he refused to even look behind him. The voice had all been familiar. No matter how old they would get, he would always recognize it.
"What do you want?" Don asked bitterly, still unmoved.
"Don't be like that. It's been a long time, and I wanted to see you…"
"Well you saw, and now you can go, Leo," he bit out in response.
However, his brother had paid no mind to his words, and instead sat down beside him. The boards within the couch creaked and moan, threatening to give way to the added weight. Donatello grumbled inaudibly under his breath, irritated. So much for leaving…
"You've been drinking?" Leo asked, his voice amused.
Don didn't say anything, but merely grunted instead. His cheeks were slightly rosie with the empty glass still in hand.
"I guess you've adopted Raph's attitude…Never would've thought of you like that, Donatello," Leo chided, his voice slightly raspy as it caught another breath.
"Well, you've always thought wrong of me…"
Leo's blue eyes went wide, and his jaw hung open. This wasn't the bright, sassy little brother he'd known. No, this was very bitter, old turtle. Sighing, he rubbed his scaly head, his fingertips scratching the surface.
"Now why would you say such a thing?"
"Because it's true. Do you remember why it's been over twenty years since we've spoken face to face?" he growled at his older brother without looking him in the eyes.
"Yes, I haven't forgotten…" he sighed out, then reached for Donnie's shoulder. His brother backed away from his grip, the couch quivered beneath them. "Look, it's been so long, and I want you to talk to me."
"You mean look down on me," Don grumbled, turning his head towards the bedrooms.
The lair was like how it always had been, except for all the dust and spider webs. Donnie was the only one who had remained here, but he'd left it that way. After all, it was his home, and his alone. At the thought, he became misty eyed and nearly forgot about Leo right beside him.
"Look Donnie, our brothers are gone. Everyone is gone, and you're all I have left. Please, talk to me," Leo begged, breaking him from his thoughts.
"Oh what's there to talk about? You're right, Raph and Mikey are gone, and so is everyone else. We're both so old, but I haven't forgotten…"
Leo's face fell, the shadows darkening it. The torn tails of his mask brushed against his shoulder as he slumped back into the cushions. He should've known that Donnie would be stubborn. Drinking isn't the only thing he got from Raph…
Minutes passed, and they sunk into the couch even more. Their breathing and the creaking filled the silence between them, but it was if there was a battle. A battle of the wills, and finally, Leo sighed outwards.
"Don, I know I wasn't always the greatest to you. I pushed you, and I pushed you hard…It's just, after Mikey had died, I wasn't myself-"
"No Leo, you were always like that. Only, you were too prideful to see it," Donnie barked, his voice scratching his throat.
His brother turned his head back towards him, studying his facials. The wounds he had inflicted on him remained deep within his soul. Running like a wild current, refusing to fade with time. Leo had caused that, and yet, he needed to push past it.
"You're right. I always pressed you, but that's because I believed you could handle it. You were always a genius, and you were good in other areas as well. I just went about bringing out your potential the wrong way…"
"That's what you're calling it? Potential?" he asked incredulously. He then leaned forward and laughed. " Quit fooling yourself, we both know I was always the weakest in the group. After Mikey died, you tried to have me replace-"
"That's not true, and you know it!" he snapped, slamming his fist against his thigh. His muscles began to tremble as anger began to bubble beneath the surface. Donnie was hard to talk to when he drank, but Leo still needed to.
After all, he did come here to talk, not argue. Inhaling deeply, he let the anger go. "That's not true, Donatello. I love you, and you'll always be family. I just…I just wasn't the best brother and I know that. Please, just give me another chance…" he whispered quietly.
Donatello heaved forward, gathering to his feet. His breathing became slightly shallow, and his joints began to ache. He didn't even look back towards Leo, but merely stretched his arms over his head instead. As his muscles began to unwind, his breathing slowed, and he brought his arms back down.
"Well, if you can erase the past…then maybe, just maybe, I could forgive you," Donatello whispered, voice cracking a bit.
"Oh come on, don't be like that," Leo replied as he got up as well. His voice became more desperate, hoarse even, as he strained it. "We're both so old, Donnie. Can't you move past this and let me in?"
"Yeah, we're both old…and frankly, I'm so tired. I-I need to lie down and rest." His voice began to shake, showing how frail he had become.
Leo didn't say another word, but simply stared at his shell. So many scars had covered the surface, and the swirling pattern was no more. Donnie also had scratches and burns lining his rough skin–wounds from the past.
Don knew Leo was looking at him, staring with those probing eyes. However, he didn't say anything against it, and merely stood there. A current of emotions ran beneath his mind, making him feel guilty. He knew he shouldn't shut Leo out, but he couldn't help it.
He didn't want to become broken again.
But in the end, he sucked it up. He breathed inwards and lifted his arms, tugging at the loose knot in his mask. It slowly came undone, and the fabric brushed against his neck as he pulled it off.
Donnie then turned to face Leo, giving just a hint of a smile. After all, this was once Leo's home as well, and he was right, they were always brothers. But he couldn't let him in, and he wasn't sure if he could give him a second chance.
His brother's eyes widen as he held the torn up mask in one hand with the glass in the other. Don gripped the glass even harder, his fingers shaking violently against the pressure. No, he wouldn't let him in.
But I do need to rest…
He gave Leo a weary smile as he lifted up his mask, offering it towards him.
"Don, I don't even know what to say…" Leo said as he took the mask in his own hands.
Donatello merely shook his head, then turned his back to him. His eyelids grew heavier as the alcohol worked through his system. I never did like whiskey…Then he sighed once more and began to walk away, leaving Leo where they'd stood.
He was just so tired and wanted to rest for an eternity.
"Goodnight," Donatello said in a low tone as he walked up the steps.
Leo just stood there and watched without replying. He felt hurt, pained even…but they were both so old, and so worn. Even with age, Don still had remained stubborn.
So much for second chances…