This is another super old fic I wrote back in 2013, when I was back on my angst swing. I don't think I ever fully finished it, but it's a further attempt to digitalize all my old stuff.
This one-shot is loosely based off of I Drive Your Truck by Lee Brice.
Italics are flashbacks, normal text is the present. Warning for major character death. I don't own anything. Enjoy.
"Come on, Donny! Quit your worrying; I'll be fine." Raph twirled his Sai in one fluid motion with a wink and an easy, lopsided grin.
"I don't know, Raph," Donny said, frowning. He reached out and grabbed Raph's arm, sending his Sai tumbling to the ground, "I've got a bad feeling about this."
"It's the Purple Dragons!" Raph snorted, swiping up his weapons from the rooftop and shrugging off his brother's hand. He turned his gaze to the graffiti covered building in the distance and eyed it with a smirk. "I'll be fine. Ten minutes, tops, and we'll still get home before Mikey and Leo do with the pizza." Donny tried to protest, but per usual, Raph didn't listen and leapt off onto the next roof. Donny watched as his brother quickly made his way over to the gang's building. Six rooftops down, Raph neatly ducked into an open window, turning back to Don to give a cheeky two fingered salute.
Donny flicked him off, and he could make out Raph throwing back his head with a delighted grin. Turning, he disappeared from sight into the building, and Donny shuffled nervously, feeling the uncomfortable feeling grow in his gut. Raph had been insistent on him sitting this one out, even though it was just meant to be a quick snoop around their new HQ building, much to Donny's intense irritation. He just had a broken arm from their last entanglement with the Foot, but that didn't mean he was helpless!
"Don't worry, Donny," he mumbled to himself, fumbling around his belt to pull out his shell cell and text Leo that they might be a little late. "It's Raph, after all; he can take care of himself-"
He briefly looked up to snort back laughter at himself, and the building exploded.
"RAPH!" Donny shot up from where he'd fallen asleep on his desk, sending papers fluttering everywhere. He leaned back in his chair, and it wobbled uncertainly, casting him flat on his shell with a crash. Gasping from having the air knocked out of him, he felt up to rub at the back of his head, brushing his cheek. He still had a paper stuck to it, and he tore it off with a scowl. He could hear the pounding of footsteps racing towards his lab, and he groaned, rubbing a hand over his eyes. This was the last thing he wanted.
The door creaked open, and a familiar voice whispered his name. "What happened?"
"Nothing, Mikey," Don said, voice coming out colder than he meant it. He refused to meet his eyes. "I just fell asleep." Donny worried that if he turned around he'd be reminded that Mikey was his only baby brother left.
"Oh," the quiet response came, and Donny pushed himself up. Mikey lowered his gaze quickly, kneeling down next to him to help pick up some of the scattered papers around them. "I heard you call out his name," Mikey said, even quieter than before, and Donny fought the urge to just get up and run. Run away from Mikey, from what's left of their family, from the memories.
From the guilt.
"And?" Donny said, voice thick and catching in his throat. He blinked rapidly and ducked his head even further; the last thing he wanted to do was cry in front of Mikey.
"It's okay to grieve." A warm hand found its way to his shoulder, what was meant to be a comforting gesture but did nothing more than burn his skin. "I miss him, too."
Donnie swallowed his pride and looked up into Mikey's eyes. Dull, vacant, lifeless eyes that lost their spark when a best friend, a big brother didn't come home.
Because of you, they seemed to accuse, and Donny had never in his life felt claustrophobic before that moment. He couldn't breathe all of a sudden, gasping like a fish out of water, and everything seemed to fold in on him. He had to get out of there, get some air, find anything to distract him from the guilt.
"Donny?" Mikey said dully, and Donny jerked his attention back to his brother in front of him. He shook his head, deftly wrenching himself from Mikey's grip, and he backed away slowly, running into the desk behind him. He turned tail and ran, leaving Mikey alone in the middle of the lab.
He ran blindly, not really caring where to end up, just anything to get away from Mikey's accusing eyes. He ended up in the warehouse, tripping over his toolbox and crashing into the side of the Battle Shell. He stumbled and fell onto his knees, looking up to be nose to nose with Raph's motorcycle, half covered by a sheet.
He sucked in a breath, a little awed as he tugged the sheet off. It was still exactly the same as Raph had left it: a fresh coat of paint, a full tank of gas, the keys tucked up under the front tire. Trembling, he stretched out a hand and traced the wheel rim gently. He could almost hear the engine purr, the sounds of the tools Raph would use as he fixed it up.
Don remembered the day he gave the bike to Raph. Donny wasn't sure Raph had ever been so excited, his eyes bright as he cranked the engine for the first time. He'd watched, amused, as Raph bounced around like a kid in a candy store. If only he knew he actually hadn't been the first to test it out like Donny had said.
Donny picked up the keys and clenched them tightly in his fist for a moment. In a split second decision he knew he may regret later, he swung his leg over the seat and twisted the keys in his ignition. He felt the hum of the engine underneath him, and he wondered if he closed his eyes if Raph would be there, working on the accelerator once more. Picking up the helmet resting on the handlebars, he pulled it on. With a start, he kicked up the kickstand and sped off, tires screeching at the sudden acceleration.
Soon enough, he was out on the open road, wind blowing his bandana tails back, going faster than any blurry recommended speed limit sign he saw. He sped on, leaving his family and his memories in the dust.
