Chapter Text
The coffee sucks.
It's kind of really bad. Donnie almost does a spit-take when he takes his first drink of it, but he doesn't want to be rude, so he doesn't. He absentmindedly takes little sips of it as Mikey rambles instead.
They're at an outdoor table outside of a café, sat under an umbrella. It's maybe a little past midnight, and there's a light drizzle going outside their pocket of sanctuary, hazing the streetlights and the blur of cars as they whizz past them. The atmosphere feels almost cozy, nostalgic. Despite the mediocre quality of his beverage of choice, it makes Donnie want to do this again.
In the dim light, and under the stark, sharp shadows, it's very easy to mistake either of them for humans, especially with heavier clothing on. Donnie's taken one of Leo's hoodies, since they're usually bigger. It doesn't hang off his frame in the same way (his older brother always looks so small in them), but it creates the desired effect, so it doesn't matter much.
Donnie's never been so close to human civilization before. He's not sure how to feel about the whole thing yet.
But anyways, who cares. Mikey's talking about his dad, which is an infinitely more interesting topic. He's been talking about his dad for like five minutes. Donnie has mixed feelings on this idea of Mikey's so-called dad.
"—just so stupid," Mikey's saying. "Like, I don't wanna be mad at him, I'm an empathetic little guy! I know it was a hard topic 'cause he feels like he— y'know, messed up, failed you guys, left you to die, but—"
"Is this Lou Jitsu?" Donnie asks.
Mikey stares. "What?"
"Nothing," Donnie says. His coffee is going cold. He wants to throw it. He just bats it over to Mikey instead. "Probably not."
Mikey doesn't even ask further questions, too engrossed in his own baggage. He just takes the cup and downs it, before choking and doubling over to spit it on the floor.
"Ewww," he complains. "That tastes gross. Why'd you get the nasty flavors?!"
"I've never had human coffee before," Donnie says. "Let me try yours."
Mikey pushes his cup over. Donnie takes a sip. It's significantly better, but it's not earth-shattering. He gives it back and Mikey downs the whole thing in one gulp. Donnie stares at him intently.
"Sorry, it's past my bedtime." He yawns. "I'm trying to stay up."
"Mhm," Donnie says.
"The point is, though!" Mikey straightens in his seat, talking animatedly, "if Dad isn't gonna give me any answers, I thought, like, I have to go look for them, right? And if you guys were really my long lost family, I wanted to know… like, everything!"
"About our creation," Donnie guesses.
"Yeah!" Mikey exclaims. "Are we like— special and important?! Baron Draxum kinda talked like that, like we had this- this purpose—"
"We were created to destroy humanity," Donnie says.
Mikey falters.
"Huh?"
"Draxum is a yokai, but we were mutated from actual turtles," Donnie explains, feeling his stomach squirm nervously. "With the express purpose of being weapons. He hasn't been quiet about it to me or Leo, although…"
He trails off, losing his train of thought. Mikey's eyes are wide as the words sink in.
"We were meant to be a unit," Donnie says. "He's never really talked about you or One, but he's said that Leo's meant to be a tactician, and me a logician." He remembers those words coming up a lot when they were young, especially before Donnie and Leo started using real names for themselves— the ones they learned Lou Jitsu had originally picked out for them. "Leo is intended to formulate and forward plans, and I provide the systems to put them into motion. I assume your roles would be more physical."
"Huh," Mikey repeats, sounding shocked.
"But an army's inconvenient when there's just thinkers," Donnie says, looking at out at the dark, hazy street, his face propped up by his hand. The rain is beginning to pick up. "That's my opinion, though. It's not helpful."
"It's just you guys?" Mikey asks.
Donnie sighs through his nose. The sound whistles, and it makes Mikey giggle a little, for some reason. "He's asked the Hidden City Council for more support," he says. "It's been fruitless. They're unimpressed with his line of work."
"No, I mean," Mikey pauses for a second. "I'm kinda just asking if there's any more long lost family I gotta know about, that's all."
"Not that I… know of," Donnie admits. "Most of his research was destroyed with the lab back when…" he shivers, recalling visions of a green blaze, his little hands reaching out, feeling terrified and helpless and confused, "well. He lost you and One."
"Raph…" Mikey echoes. Something weird comes over his face when he says the name. Donnie tilts his head, but his newly-discovered younger brother doesn't elaborate. He just goes quiet for a long moment, visibly conflicted by something.
Donnie doesn't really care enough to push him for more information. He just waits, patient and unconcerned, until Mikey feels comfortable enough to pipe up again.
"I've got a question, though," he says. "Y'know, unrelated to most of that stuff."
"Mm," Donnie replies.
"Umm…"
A pause, like he's waiting for Donnie to speak up again. He doesn't.
"Isn't destroying humanity, like… kinda evil?" Mikey asks.
"Yes," Donnie confirms, and doesn't elaborate.
Despite his complete disinterest in the subject, Donnie is not blind. He knows what's evil, and he knows what isn't. Him and Leo have snuck dozens of human movies before in the past, and he's gotten enough of an impression of what the typical moral standards in their culture are from that. Although, despite Leo's unrelenting reverence, he does have his suspicions about the legitimacy of Lou Jitsu's combat style. His morals seem sound, however.
Mikey stares at him. He looks shocked, unsurprisingly; Donnie knows human culture values combat much less than yokai culture does, despite their adoration for trashy movies, and Mikey's been embroiled in it ever since he was stolen(?) away. He'd be a lot more interested in the little differences and nuances in that, if it weren't late and his mind was preoccupied by other things.
"That's… really messed up," Mikey says.
Donnie shrugs. He doesn't look at him, just out at the hazy New York lights and passing cars. The ambience drowns out the tumultuous mess that is his mind, some. He wonders if he'll come here often enough to get used to it.
"Do you…. have a choice in that kinda thing?" Mikey asks, suddenly sounding worried. A little choked up, maybe, but when Donnie steals a glance his face is steely and determined. It's a look he's seen on Draxum a lot, so he recognizes it. It's fake.
"They've been leaving me out anyway," Donnie says, punctuating it with a beleaguered huff. "I presume it's just overprotectiveness. They've always been insistent to shelter me."
The tension in Mikey's face melts away, and he leans back in his chair with a groan. "Aw man, tell me about it," he says. "If Raph knew I was sneaking out to meet up with you, he'd probably like, kill me."
Donnie tilts his head. "That sounds unhealthy."
"It is, and it's like—!" Mikey throws up his hands, and only then does Donnie realize he has just incited another family member rant. "I dunno, I'm thirteen! Thirteen! I'm not a little kid anymore, I can think for myself, right?! I know Raph's just scared, but- but—"
"You should probably leave if you think he's capable of murdering you," Donnie says, interrupting him on purpose.
Mikey stops. "I'm being hyperbolic."
"I know."
Mikey's face scrunches up in abject confusion. Donnie stares back, before giving him a smile. He makes sure it does not meet his eyes at all, even though he very much means it. The hilarious look on his face helps him understand why Leo enjoys messing with people so much.
"You're so weird, man," Mikey says. "I can never tell if you're joking."
Donnie's smile drops. It was hurting a little to hold, anyways. "I always am," he says. Time to reroute the conversation. "But as for your Raph…"
"You can just call him my brother," Mikey says.
"Hmm," Donnie shrugs, not really caring. "He'd be uncomfortable with me."
It's not enunciated like a question, but Mikey takes it as one anyway. He suddenly looks a lot more uncomfortable. Incredibly nervous, really.
"I… uh, kinda didn't tell him what April and I got up to today," he says. "I'm not gonna start. I think he'd seriously flip out. I dunno if the long lost family thing would scare him, but if he knows you're related to Baron Draxum, who turns people to fish, and that other weird guy who bit me a bunch and tried to stab me—"
"Leo, yes," Donnie nods. "He does that."
"—I don't think he'd want me meeting up with you," Mikey finishes. "He'd probably think I'm, umm… I need a smart word, c'mon… conversating with a whole other kind of freak."
"That's debatable."
"I know! But I mean, like, a psycho-murder-freak."
"You shouldn't call people psychos," Donnie replied. "Also it's converse."
Mikey groans, very loudly. A few people walking by turn to glance at him, hurrying along a little faster when they get a glimpse of his face.
"Well, I'm not telling Leo I came out here," Donnie replies, trying to relate to him. "He's very easily jealous. He would probably try to kill you over it."
"Wouldn't he do that anyway?" Mikey grumbles.
"Yes," Donnie replies, snorting on a laugh.
Mikey's face lights up, awestruck at the sound. He looks away to observe the city, openly smiling to himself and trying to hide his grin behind his hand. Maybe he's fallen for Donnie's impassiveness. The idea of that is… odd.
Donnie's getting the sense their situations are very similar, but their feelings on them are completely different. He doesn't actually mind being sheltered, while that's all Mikey seems to want to complain about. Being the family baby is a system that's easy to abuse, but it seems Raph and Leo are very different people, as are their standards. He's not sure what's up with Mikey's dad at all.
"I do wanna meet up again, though," Mikey says, surprisingly reserved. "So I guess we just gotta go stealth about it. Do you have a phone?"
"No," Donnie says. "I don't know what that is."
"Really?" The ridges of Mikey's brows snap up. "How do you guys talk long-distance, then?"
"Rock," Donnie responds.
"Y'know what, okay," Mikey leans back in his chair, visibly lost in thought. It looks like it hurts. Donnie wonders if he's the only person in his family, sans Draxum, that likes to think. "It'd be really easy to just text if you had one, so I should probably get you one."
"Let me see yours," Donnie says.
Mikey fixes him with a long, suspicious look, before he fishes his phone out of his pocket and hands it over. Donnie inspects it in his hands, fascinated by the technology. He'd take it apart, were he not worried about breaking it.
"I'm not sure how you acquired something like this in the first place," he comments, handing it back.
"April cashed in a bet with a friend," Mikey says. "She got someone's broken one and gave it to a girl she knows, and she fixed it. That's her story, anyway."
Donnie nods, even though he finds that story frustratingly vague. "I could probably fix one of my own, if you're intent on this," he says. "But I would need access to a broken one."
Mikey rests his chin on his hand, staring at him intently. "Can we meet up in a couple of days?" he asks. "Like, in the day? We can schedule it now and figure that stuff out later."
Donnie thinks about it. He nods. "We should work out something specific," he says. "My schedule isn't as tight as it used to be, but the next few days are going to be eventful. When are you free?"
They spend hours talking about… whatever, really. Mikey's brain moves fast, and Donnie's used to keeping up with wildly changing topics after years of experiencing Leo's manic periods. There are even times where Mikey listens to him talk, enraptured by his words in a way Donnie's family never has been. He takes the excuse to ramble about his many projects, and his mostly buried fascination of human technology. He hasn't been given many chances to experiment with it.
He's a bit wary to admit it, but the feeling swelling in his chest by the time he makes the trek back home is fond. He's practically vibrating as he heads home, just as he can see the sun begin to peek out over the horizon.
Leo is awake when Donnie returns. It's the break of dawn outside, which used to be their usual expected time to awaken, so it's not a surprise he's up. No matter what methods he uses to assist his sleep, his twin never gets longer than maybe five hours.
He's already training— lately, he's been focused on improving his jumps without using a mystic channel. Initially he'd only been able to teleport when he focused his energy to his swords, so he'd have to throw them to jump, but recently he's really been honing this skill to be more general. He hasn't even seemed worried about the threat of dismemberment, if he were to mess up.
Donnie's a little envious, honestly. He can't even use his weapon as a channel— there are two rings on both ends of his bo that operate as mystic training wheels. He can create very simple structures with them—walls and shields, or platforms to jump on, primarily—but everything feels very uninspired. His heart has never been in it. Leo's excelling where he's falling behind.
(He'd never admit it out loud, but the way Draxum looked at him whenever he made any mystic progress has… blunted his interest in it, somewhat. He's never really been proud, not really; he's always just looked disturbed, possibly even afraid.)
Leo tilts back to look at him when he hears him coming, his head tipped back unnaturally. He's never liked just turning around like a normal person, for some reason. His face splits into a gigantic grin, all teeth.
"You weren't in bed!" he chirps, twirling his sword before sheathing it in his holster. "Where'd you go, dude?! I was so lonely and sad and miserable and—"
"Out," Donnie says, sitting down indian style on the floor.
Leo teleports next to him, mimicking his posture and pretending to look serious. It looks more like one of his joke Draxum impressions than one of his Donnie impressions, which is vaguely insulting. He doesn't actually care that much.
Donnie stares ahead, trying not to give his suspiciousness away, although he knows that's an ineffective game plan. Leo's head tilts, like a curious dog, and in the corner of his eye Donnie identifies the exact moment he hones in.
"You look happy!" he grabs Donnie's face, turning his head over so they lock eyes and squishing his cheeks. Touchy as ever. Donnie begrudgingly stares at him. Leo's still grinning, wild-eyed. "Why do you look happy?!"
Donnie's expression has not changed at all from his usual mask of impassiveness. Leo's grin takes on an edge of fear, but it doesn't falter.
"You look upset," Donnie retorts, calmly.
Leo snorts. His face softens a bit. "Yeah, well," he pulls away, and for once he drops the act. He just looks tired, tipping over falling flat on his back with a dull thump. His tail beats against the floor in annoyance. "You know me."
"Mhm," Donnie affirms, because he does. Duh.
"You know, if you wanted to sneak out, you could'a told me," Leo says. "We could've gone together, it'd be fun. I get so booored when you just disappear like that."
"You sneak out without me all the time," Donnie replies, leaning back and bracing his hands against the floor to watch him.
"Yeah well, you actually like thinking," Leo grumbles. "You make your own fun. You like— read and shit. And do like… Sudoku. You do Sudoku, right?"
"No," Donnie lies, very obviously.
"I'm just saying, though," Leo says, instead of calling him out. It means he's pretty serious about whatever he's talking about, which catches Donnie's attention properly. "It kinda freaks me out when I don't know where you are. Especially in, like, the middle of the night? Sooo."
"Sorry," Donnie says.
Leo turns to glance at him with big eyes. His hand pats around before finding Donnie's, and he laces their fingers together and goes silent. He's still as a marble-carved statue, his eyes turning to fix the ceiling. It's an unnatural look on him, even though he's still smiling.
Donnie knows it's better not to pry. He scoots a little closer and falls back to join his brother, quietly wondering what's so interesting about the flat surface. It turns out there's pretty much nothing there. Maybe he should decorate it the next time he's bored.
"I forgive you," Leo says, eventually, like he's unsure if he should.
"Okay," Donnie replies.
They sit there until Draxum inevitably comes barging in, ranting about their training regimes and the future of their movement. Leo is immediately distracted by his expectations, and the topic is blissfully dropped.
He tries not to notice the perturbation on his father's face when he's caught too distracted to spar properly. Even while working, Donnie can only think about the next time he's planned to meet up with Mikey.
He hopes it goes well, and that Mikey's just as excited to see him. He hopes for a lot of things he's a little too afraid to name, too. His head feels more clouded with thoughts than it has been in years, but not in a way that hurts him. It's... a good thing. He feels good, refreshed despite essentially having been awake all night (he's glad he has a few days before he goes out into the city again).
Maybe he is happy, like Leo observed. He's at the very least excited. Maybe a little more than he's willing to admit.
(He wishes his father would stop staring at him.)