Author's Notes: I've decided that I'm going to do a collection of one shots. There will be no particular order to the stories. I've already gotten into Raph's head with Unspoken Fears and Mikey's head with Alone in the Dark. Now it's time for me to delve into Donatello's head. For Donatello, I have decided to write about how he feels when the others constantly break something and bring it to him. Is he truly happy being Mr. Fix It and the resident medical/scientific genius or is there more to meet's the eye when it comes to Donatello?
Disclaimer: Why do I have to keep repeating myself?
It's almost midnight. Everything is deadly quiet within the lair except for me. For you see, instead of me resting like everyone else, I'm slaving away as quietly as I can. I don't know how it happened but Mikey brought me his broken game controller not too long ago.
Normally I don't mind tinkering around with gadgets and other electronic equipment but sometimes I can't help but wonder if the others only view me as their handy man and nothing else.
I'm not a strong, aggressive, fighter like Raphael. I'm not a comedian or the baby like Michelangelo. And I am no where near as determined, serious, or focused as Leonardo is. Well if you consider me pouring my heart and soul into my projects then I guess I pretty much can relate to Leo when it comes to that certain aspect. Things, however, run deeper than that.
As I sit here, at my workbench, I've often been plagued with despicable and horrible thoughts such as what if my brothers don't care for me as much as I think they do? Or what if my brothers only see me as their Mr. Fix It? And this is the best thought yet.
What if the others are sick of me being so passive and calm?
I've always tried to reason with myself by simply reminding myself that everyone has a different temperament. In my case, I just happen to be a pacifist who would rather solve problems without causing unnecessary violence and bloodshed. Most of the time, however, my wishes never come true.
This is not the first time I have entertained such thoughts. I've done this ever since I was just a toddler. My brothers were always faster, stronger, and better learners than I was so it came as quite the shock to discover that I was gifted. Not gifted in sports, ninjistu, or anything but gifted when it came to my intelligence.
How was it possible that out of four mutated turtles, I would be the one to have some sort of gene that made me smarter than my brothers? But that sounds so arrogant and harsh coming from me. It's not that I'm smarter than my brothers because everyone is smart in their own way.
For me, it's been hard. I have quite the intellectual prowess yet it's going to be wasted because I'm a humanoid turtle. There are so many ideas, inventions, books, discoveries, and God knows what else I could possibly do in the human world but alas it will never come to pass.
People will never truly accept or recognize me for my smarts. Instead, they will continue to shun me and disregard my existence. They will live on in blissful ignorance never knowing that I could very well hold the key to curing cancer or aids.
I'm getting off topic by allowing my mind to wander like this. I should be concentrating more on fixing this controller rather than trying to fix my broken and torn soul but I can't. My head is filled with so much clutter that one of these days, I'm going to overload.
Now won't that be irony at its best? A gifted humanoid turtle did himself in by suffering a nervous breakdown. In other words, because he overloaded his sensory system, his brain finally couldn't handle or process anymore information so it shut down.
Thoughts like those always have me wondering if my brothers will ever truly appreciate what I do. Sure, I patch them up when they're injured. I fix their things when they break them. Shell, I even manage to save their butts on a daily basis with all of my inventions.
It's a wonder; my brothers have even kept me around this long. Wouldn't it be just a matter of time before they grew sick of me and decided to toss me away like a toy that a child has outgrown? I know Master Splinter thinks otherwise but sometimes I just can't help the way I feel.
The only thing that really sets me apart from me brother is the fact that I'm smart. Other than that, I'm nothing in their eyes. If people got to know us, they'd argue me down that this is the not the case but they haven't grew up or lived with them for years as I have done.
I know exactly how my brothers operate. Leo is cool and detached. He'd prefer not to let his emotions or anything else, for that matter, take control of him. He always has to be in control no matter what the situation. Leo does, however, go out of his way to protect us. Raph is stand offish and unapproachable yet he has this soft side to him when it comes to our safety and well being.
And then there's Mikey.
That oddball brother of mine's is quite the complex character. Just when you think you finally have him figured out, he does something unpredictable and you're right back at square one with him. I'd have to say overall, however, that his humor is just his way of covering up his own problems. Just as Leo and Raph have their own ways of dealing with things, Mikey uses humor.
It almost makes me jealous. Each of my brothers are so unique and yet they don't know or better yet understand that. They want to make it seem as though that I'm the unique one when I'm simply the observer stuck outside trying to look inside.
Have you ever felt that way? That you're a part of a group, family, club, or whatever it is but deep down in your heart, you know that's not the case? That you're really an outsider trying to fit in? I feel that way all the time.
As I mentioned earlier, I can't exactly relate to Raph or Mikey for obvious reasons, so that leaves Leo. There are times, however, when I think that not even Leo can help or understand me. A saddened sigh escapes from my lips as I finally finish work on the controller. I set it down gently next to one of my unfinished projects and began to prepare myself for bed.
For now I'll keep my silence and suffer alone. No one needs to know the inner workings of my mind. Until I finally work up the courage to discuss this with my brothers, they'll never know that the Donatello that is always ready and willing to repair something is just a shell of who I really am. That deep within my heart, I long for the day when they will view me as something more than just their personal handyman.
That's not too much to ask for is it?
