"I hate you," Mikey sobs the second the door closes behind him.
The private room inside the Justice Building that Donnie's been put in to say goodbye to his brothers gives them some modicum of privacy, at least. For a long second, Mikey just stares at him from the doorway, fists clenched at his sides and tears streaming down his cheeks. Then, he shuffles close and hides his face in Donnie's shoulder. His arms hang loosely at his side even as his chin digs painfully into Donnie's chest. It's what he does every time he's angry and withholding hugs, but is still desperate for comfort. Donnie's breath catches at the realization that this might be the last time he ever gets to be this close to Mikey. He tries to memorize the feeling of his hair brushing against his face and the sound of his voice as he mumbles angry (scared) words against his shoulder.
"I love you, too," Donnie murmurs, and is proud that the words come out steady and strong despite the way his mind is a tumultuous storm of emotion. "I'm sorry."
"You're not," Mikey whimpers, shaking his head a little and grinding his chin almost painfully against Donnie. He can't help but laugh a little, knowing that Mikey is trying to punish him the same affectionate way he has since they were tiny. He brings a hand up to rub gentle circles into his back, feeling Mikey lean further into him. He's so warm. So alive. Donnie's so happy he'll get to stay that way.
"I am. If you or Leo hadn't been called, I never would've volunteered. You know that."
"You still shouldn't have volunteered!"
"That was never going to be an option, dumdum."
Mikey doesn't say anything to that. He just lets Donnie hold him as the seconds tick down, sobbing into his shoulder, getting Donnie's shirt all wet and snotty. He barely notices, too focused on trying to catalogue everything about this moment so he can hold onto it when he'll need it in the arena.
A sharp knock on the door signals that their time is almost up. Mikey goes stiff, and he suddenly wraps his arms so tightly around Donnie that he knocks the breath from his lungs.
"You'll win," Mikey whispers, the words muffled and dripping with tears and desperation. Donnie presses a small kiss to the top of his head, allowing himself this affection and regretting every tiny moment he missed getting to show his love over the last few years.
It was for the best. It won't hurt them too badly now, if he doesn't win. Maybe they won't feel anything at all when they watch him fighting in the arena.
"Of course I'll win," he lies, and Mikey sobs again.
"I love you, Dondon," he whispers, and Donnie's heart twists and aches in a way he thought he'd taught it not to anymore.
"I love you, too, Angelo."
The door opens, Peacekeepers darkening the room, here to drag Mikey out kicking and screaming if they need to or to keep Donnie inside if he tries to escape. He swallows around the lump in his throat, gives his baby brother one last squeeze, and then pushes him gently away.
"You have to go now," Donnie tells him, eyes searching Mikey's face, trying to drink in every tiny detail while he still can.
"I don't want to," Mikey whimpers, his lips wobbling and nose scrunching as he tries to speak through his tears. Donnie wishes he had the time needed to count each of the freckles decorating his face.
"You have to."
The Peacekeepers loom.
"You're going to win," Mikey says again, his voice small but brimming with a confidence that Donnie wishes he could summon. He nods anyway.
The Peacekeepers take his little brother away, and Donnie uses the scant seconds he has between visits to compose himself. The illusion that he's okay is all he has going for him right now.
When Raph is allowed into the room, none of the Peacekeepers dare to lay a hand on him. There is no guidance or threats. They know what Raph can do to them if he has to, armor or not.
Donnie looks at his stormy face, and he feels the mask he wears start to crack.
"I'm sorry," he blurts without thinking, voice coming out high and reedy. He feels about as surprised as Raph looks. He hadn't meant to say that.
"Hey, you got nothing to be sorry for," Raph tells him, stepping closer, moving like he's approaching one of the scared, feral kittens he sometimes brings home to care for. "I'm furious, but it's not at you, bud. More than that, I'm just. Sad. And scared."
"Big Raphie, scared," Donnie echoes, half a scoff. Raph snorts, and his lips twitch up into what could be called a smile if Donnie was feeling particularly generous.
"I've been scared that this would happen since the day you and Leo turned 12," Raph tells him softly. He lays a big hand on Donnie's shoulder. It is steady and grounding, and as he looks in his big brother's face he can feel his heart slowing from the panic-quick flutter that's been making him lightheaded since the moment Mikey's name was called.
"I think I'm scared, too," Donnie confesses. The words burn his throat, but soothe something inside his chest. Raph nods.
"You're too smart not to be." He takes a deep breath, eyelids slipping shut over one brown eye and one empty socket. A single tear traces its way down his cheek. When he opens them again, the sadness Donnie sees nearly bowls him over.
"I'm gonna say something, and I don't want you to take this the wrong way."
"Uh. Okay?"
Raph pauses for a long few seconds, brow creasing like it always does when he's thinking about how to word something without hurting their feelings. Donnie chews the inside of his cheek, eyes darting towards the clock on the wall and wishing both that they had more time and that Raph would think faster. After an eternity of painful seconds, he releases a deep breath and begins.
"I know you have problems with, uh, empathy sometimes. And I also know how much work you've put into it over the years to be better at reading people and better at respecting boundaries. You were always good the way you were, but I know it was something you wanted to do for yourself so I'm real proud of how far you've come."
Of all the things Donnie thought Raph might have wanted to say, that hadn't even come close to making the list. He frowns, not sure where this conversation is going. Raph heaves a sigh, teeth chewing his bottom lip to shreds as he tries again to figure out how to word whatever he has on his mind. Donnie clears his throat.
"Thank you, probably."
"I need you to stop doing that."
"What?"
"When you're in the arena, you need to stop looking at your opponents as people. Stop empathizing, stop trying to understand them, and stop memorizing all the little things that make 'em tick unless it's to look for a weakness. If you can turn it off, then you gotta. It'll hurt less that way, and none of us'll judge you for it. If I could've…." He pauses, gaze distant and haunted for a second until he shakes himself out of whatever memory had tried to pull him away that time. He still looks far away as he continues.
"Outta all of us, I think you've got the best chance of winning and of coming out the other side still…you."
"You're still you." The words he used to have Leo help him rehearse until they sounded natural come out automatically after three years of repeating them whenever it felt right to do so. The rest of his brother's words compute a split second after, and Donnie frowns. "But you always said—"
"Forget about what I said! The Games ain't like apologizing for pushing Leo or forgiving Mikey for messing up one of your projects or trying to understand why dad can't help clean up your scraped knee. It's going to be life or death. You or them. I want you to promise me that you're gonna do whatever it takes to come home to us. Promise me."
"Yeah," Donnie says, a little breathless. "I promise."
"Okay," Raph says, and his voice is tight and his face scrunches like it does when he's trying to stop himself from breaking down into sobs. Donnie stares at his trembling lips, then his empty eye socket and the scarring around it. He swallows hard and wonders what sorts of scars he'll walk away with, if he walks away at all. Then, he opens his arms in silent invitation.
Raph doesn't hesitate to scoop him up and pull him tight. He usually hates the feeling of Raph's hugs. Too hot and sticky and confining and, ever since he came back from the Capitol, too full of a strange desperation that makes Donnie uncomfortable and itchy all over. But he loves his brother too much to be anything but grateful that he is here and holding him like this. It just feels safe now. Donnie hides his face in Raph's chest, just like Mikey did with him, and he squeezes his eyes shut and lets the world melt away for a blissful 92 seconds before the Peacekeepers come once more to push him one more visit closer to leaving them behind.
"I love you," Raph whispers into his hair, and he presses a kiss to the top of Donnie's head, and for maybe the first time in his life he wishes that a hug could last forever.
"I'll win, no matter what it takes," he promises, even though the words still feel a little bit like a lie. He hopes they don't sound as fake as his lies usually do; It's all he can do to offer comfort to any of his brothers now. "I love you, too."
"I know you will," Raph says with a wet smile. "And I know you do."
And then he's gone.
Donnie hides his face in his hands and tries to breathe through the heaving sobs he forces himself to choke back. He's glad he's always been a silent crier, because when he hears footsteps in the hall outside he can at least feel secure in the knowledge that no one else knows just how much this is affecting him. He sniffs and scrubs his face with the sleeve of his shirt, just in time for the handle to rattle and the door to creak open.
There is silence for a long minute, and Donnie refuses to face the newcomer, half convinced that it will be the Peacekeepers coming to tell him that the rest of his family doesn't want to see him. Leo's probably too angry with him. Papa has probably already locked himself away in his room, tucked under blankets, staring blankly at the wall instead of facing the fact that another one of his sons will be taken to face the horrors of the arena. He doesn't blame him. Either of them. He doesn't. He just wishes—
"Someone's having a bad day," Leo's voice croaks from the doorway, and Donnie feels a weight lift from his shoulders. He hadn't been completely confident that Leo would come to say his goodbyes, but now that he's here, it feels silly to have ever doubted him.
"Maybe you are, but I, for one, am having the time of my life," he says as he turns towards Leo. He is hovering by the doorway, eyes red and puffy, hair messy in a way that tells Donnie he's been pulling at it just like he always does when he's upset. The sight hurts him, but Donnie makes himself smirk anyway, haughty and triumphant.
"How does your attempt to volunteer being thwarted a second time feel?"
"Feels like shit," Leo answers dryly, and Donnie feels his heart sink down to his stomach. He averts his gaze, suddenly more interested in the mahogany side table than his twin.
"Yeah," he mumbles after the silence stretches on a little too long. "I bet it does."
Leo sighs, and Donnie hears his steps creak against the floor as he approaches. He clears his throat, awkward, and Donnie has never felt the distance he created between them so definitively or painfully as he does right now. An ocean of unspoken words and refuted affection lies between them, and Donnie knows he's the cause of every salty drop within it.
"I brought something for you," Leo announces after a few painful seconds, digging into the pouch he's slung haphazardly across his shoulders. Donnie's eyes go wide at the item he draws from it.
"Why are you giving me this?"
"It's a token," Leo says, and there's something smug in his tone and the tilt of his head as he thrusts it towards Donnie. He accepts it, turning it over and over in his hands, examining it like it's his first time seeing it instead of something that he'd spent weeks agonizing over the creation of.
"They'll never let me take it into the arena," Donnie points out dubiously, finally turning to meet his brother's gaze. The intensity glinting in Leo's dark eyes shocks him.
"Why not?" he asks, raising his eyebrows in a way that speaks of a challenge. "It's just a little keepsake we made for you. See?"
Donnie turns the small metal cylinder over in his hand, examining it again, and finally sees his brothers' and sister's name carved carefully into it. There's still tiny curls of metal shavings clinging to the rough edges, proof of how they must have been desperately working to do so in the minutes between Donnie's disappearance into the Justice Building and them being called back for their chance to meet with him. He smiles and rubs the pad of his thumb over the rough lines of their names, feeling the sharp edges bite into his skin.
"Of course," he murmurs. "Nothing more than a keepsake to remember you all by."
Leo hums, shifting his weight from his heels to the balls of his feet to rock himself, the way he does when he's thinking, or when he's nervous. Donnie doesn't raise his gaze to look at him again, too busy trying to blink away the tears that are trying to flood his eyes before Leo can notice them. He presses his finger against the harsh lines of his twin's name and tries not to imagine the care or the anger that went into the act. He already knows he won't be allowed to keep it once the Hunger Games begin, but he will treasure it until the moment they pry it from his fingers.
Leo clears his throat again, pulling Donnie out of his slowly spiralling thoughts, and takes a breath to calm himself before he speaks again.
"Statistically speaking, the chances of one of our names getting called was crazy low, right?"
"One in eight hundred and fourteen," Donnie answers immediately. He's done the math more times than he can count, lying awake at night and trying to convince himself that none of his brothers' names would ever be called again. "Give or take a few tesserae."
"Yeah, exactly. First dad and then Raph…and now Mikey's name getting called. I don't like it."
Donnie arches an eyebrow, still refusing to look his brother in the eye. There's a stained glass sea turtle on the window and minnows carved into the wooden sill. Leo's words are making his mind spin.
"You think this was planned?"
"I don't know. Maybe it's just our patented Hamato luck. All I know is that something feels fishy."
Donnie sighs, and he allows his eyes to dart towards his twin, searching his features as he tries to gauge his emotions.
"I've told you before; I refuse to consider anything fish-related as a valid pun. It's too easy!"
"Aw, c'mon! Can't you give it to me just this once?"
Leo is smiling. He's smiling and it's big and bright and familiar. His left cheek has a dimple. A perfect mirror of Donnie's own smiles, back when they were just as big and warm. He hasn't smiled like that in a long time. His eyes are burning. He turns away and continues to hope that Leo didn't notice.
"I suppose, in light of recent developments, I will allow the fish pun. Just this once. When I come back, though, they're back to being banned."
"Yeah," Leo says. "When you get back."
He sniffles, and that's the only warning Donnie gets before his twin is crashing into him, wrapping him in a tight hug and squeezing like he never wants to let go. Or maybe more like he's hoping to crush all of his internal organs and bones before anyone in the arena gets the chance to.
"I told myself I wouldn't hug you," Leo hiccups as he holds on even tighter. "I said there was no way I'd give you the satisfaction. You'd have to wait until you came back home."
"I see how well that worked out," Donnie mumbles dryly, worrying that his lungs might collapse if Leo squeezes any tighter. "If it's any consolation, you can always give me a less painful hug when I get back."
"Shut up," Leo snaps, but he's laughing a little as he loosens his death grip.
Wait, Donnie wants to say. Don't let go yet.
"I already promised Angelo and Raphala that I'd win and come home safe and sound, etcetera and so forth. Will you require a similar vow from me, or is twice enough?"
"Pffttt, nah. I already know you'll kick ass and take names out there. But. I do want you to swear to me that you'll be careful."
Donnie arches one perfectly manicured eyebrow and says, "I'll be fighting to the death in an arena of people who want to kill me. Of course I'll be careful."
"No, I know. Just be extra careful. Whether it's just bad luck or if there's something else going on behind the scenes, someone is out to get us. You have to watch out for more than just the other tributes."
Donnie's stomach hurts. Leo is right, of course. Even when it was Raph's name called, Donnie and Leo had spent many nights whispering amongst themselves as they tried to figure out the likelihood of tributes being picked from the same family, if from different generations. Even back then, something felt off. There wasn't enough data, though. He didn't have access to even a few of the statistical facts. At that point, it was just as likely to be the tragedy of chance; the luck of the draw gone bad. They'd had no proof.
Maybe this will be an opportunity for him to find some, when he isn't fighting for his life. Mikey does always say to look on the bright side. He smiles bitterly and meets Leo's eyes. They're puffy from crying and glossy with the tears he's now fighting to hold back, but burning with a determination that is so fundamentally Leo that Donnie feels a rush of warm affection for him. A sudden, overwhelming cry of i love you i love you i love you that burns away any lingering doubt, leaving behind only his steely determination.
"I'm going to win," Donnie tells him. For the first time, it doesn't feel like a lie to say it out loud. Leo smiles, smug and confident like he always is. The effect is only slightly ruined by the fact that it's obvious he's been crying like a baby.
"Well, duh. That was never a question."
Donnie barks a laugh, and this time he's the one to pull Leo in for a tight hug. It doesn't feel like a final farewell. Now it's become a whisper of see you soon.
"I'll be back. No bad luck or corrupt government is enough to keep me from coming home to you guys."
"They might try, but your stubbornness levels are off the charts. No way they'll be able to stop you if you put your mind to it."
Leo's hands are shaking where they're resting on Donnie's shoulder blades. He wishes he could take his twin's fears away. A one in twenty-four chance isn't that bad. Raph beat those odds at 15. Donnie will just have to do the same, and he has the advantage of being older than Raph was during his Game. Numbers aren't what Leo needs right now, though.
"I love you," is what he says out loud, and he revels in how good it feels to have gotten the chance to say it to each of his brothers after so long of hiding away the words and actions that would have assured them of it. He wishes he could have been allowed the chance to say it to April, too, but he knows the others will pass along his sentiments.
"I never doubted it," Leo assures him, and Donnie chokes on a wet laugh.
Of course he didn't. Leo always knows, after all.