Possible Worlds

by sameteeth

Summary:

Mikey helps Don through the miserable "after". Donnie clings to the moment.

Donnie has always been close to Mikey. Mikey's lackadaisical attitude drives Don up the wall sometimes. His brother is nothing if not an airhead. But Mikey doesn't waste the time he spends with his head in the clouds. He can see over the misty unknown in ways that even Donnie can't standing on the shoulders of giants. Mikey is uncanny in his aim right to the heart of things, unexpectedly delicate where Raph tends towards force, tactful when Leo's pragmatism blunts his words. That's not to say Mikey's mouth isn't well acquainted with the taste of his foot. But it's Mikey that Donnie's arms lock around when they get back to the lair, and it's Mikey who immediately wraps Don up in his own two-armed embrace and holds tight.

Leo and Raph and Splinter bounce around, somewhere on the outside of things, somewhere Don can't be right now. Right now, he tucks his beak into the crook of Mikey's neck and can't even enjoy the closeness because of how tightly he's trying to press into Mikey. The desperation sweeps through him to be close. Mikey's voice is somewhere over Donnie's head. The words he's saying sound muffled and faraway, but Donnie gets the gist of the interaction through Mikey's movements, the nodding and swaying of his body almost more familiar to Donnie than his own. Donnie breathes in and out, mind racing. Everything happened so quickly - being torn from dimension to dimension, hopeless fight to hopeless fight - and then dumped unceremoniously back into the lair, only 10 minutes later. Casey hadn't even looked all that concerned when he saw them. Donnie hasn't had a chance to breathe, overwhelmed with new information at every second - the tired creases pressed into Michaelangelo's face, April's dark hair, the blaring announcements of Shredder's watchful eye, Leonardo's limp, the tremor to Raphael's calloused hands, and suddenly Usagi's presence, Lord Simultaneous's scolding. And now it all runs through him at once.

Donnie holds on to Mikey through the flood.

It's not that Mikey doesn't care - Donnie knows he does. It's that Mikey doesn't worry. He flies by the seat of his pants in a way that Donnie envies. In a way that Donnie appreciates now, with Mikey's arms around him and his voice rattling through his body as he pitches it up and down for a dramatic retelling of some story, ignoring completely the way that Don shakes in his arms. Donnie doesn't need to listen, although he tries anyways if only to wrench his focus on to something other than the onslaught of details he's trying to forget. Mikey will hold him and Mikey will let go when Donnie needs him too. But right now he needs a lot more holding.

Mikey walks them somewhere, his feet nudging Donnie's into moving backwards, and then sideways, and then down. Donnie's kneepads pinch the back of his knees as he buckles ungracefully. Something warm sweeps over him and Mikey makes a whining noise that doesn't congeal into words for Donnie but he knows is Mikey's "stop being overbearing I'm fine" voice. Donnie smiles even as he cries. Raph's familiar cadence sounds close and a hand rubs over the back of his shell, pressing hard to be felt through the keratin.

Donnie blinks his eyes open, feeling Mikey's body move around him. A hand disappears from his back and Donnie hears Mikey sipping something. There's a clinking of ceramics. He can smell the oolong tea that Master Splinter favors. He's not quite ready to participate, but he recognizes the shape of what's happening around him. Post-battle recovery.

Leo's speaking from somewhere to Donnie's left. Raph grunts his reply, and Master Splinter says something that Mikey snickers at. It's familiar. It's now something he has lost.

The yawning chasm beneath him leeches the warmth from his body. It opens endlessly as Donnie clings and tries to summon that determined hope he found for Michaelangelo and his haunted eyes. His only way through this feeling. His heart thunders as Donnie struggles to claw his way forward through this gloom. The reality of the turtles' situation has never felt more raw, all the routines and touchstones that Splinter gave them crumbling away. There's just this wide flat expanse that Donnie must brave. Endless, pointless. Cruelty will come from any angle and there is no respite. Nothing can change the way things will ultimately end: with death.

It's a kind of panic that Donnie hasn't felt in years. An instinct Master Splinter trained them to mitigate, for a ninja's goals are often at odds with their impulses. They were taught not to separate mind and body, but to account for each as a part of a whole - instincts have their place, as do principles. Not at odds, but different tools for different situations. This panic is the mind-numbing panic of an animal about to die.

But Donnie's used to this. Their lives have always been precarious, precious things. He's ridden out this panic before, when he was young and connected the dots between the lifeless rat he found floating in the water and his own father. That death is something that happens to everything, that the difference between him and that rat was not so great. That he too would some day go silent and limp and his brothers would not be able to rouse him. He cried so hard he threw up, and even the comforting warmth of his father's furry embrace could not keep out the truth. Donnie has kept this fear with him from that day, many years ago. It chews at him, escapes the box he keeps it in, jolts his hands forward and nips at his heels.

Donnie traces his finger over the groove between Mikey's scutes as he focuses on his mental map of his brother's shell. Mikey squeezes Donnie. His voice is lower now, quieter, and there's urgent noises from Master Splinter. Mikey starts to rock back and forth, a slow sway that Donnie immediately settles to. He feels gross, face tacky and skin cold, even under the blanket and pressed into Mikey. He rocks with Mikey and slowly the sounds around him start to situate themselves into meaning.

"-hope Casey gets home alright," Leo says. Raph scoffs.

"Casey's a big boy, he'll be alright."

"Mr. Jones will be fine, Leonardo," Master Splinter soothes. "I am sure he can handle himself."

 

"I dunno, Master Splinter," Mikey pipes up. "I've seen Casey get lost on his way to the bathroom."

Leo and Raph both snicker. Master Splinter sighs.

"Drink your tea, boys."

Donnie feels absolutely exhausted. His body aches all over. Two fights, almost on top of one another. That week he spent in the other dimension - it was rough. Donnie hasn't had to ration food like that in years. Only a week and he had already started feeling sluggish and cold constantly. Tea sounds wonderful.

Tea also means moving, which Donnie doesn't want to do. Moving means things are going to change. His brothers will want to check on him. His father will want to talk. He will have to shower and eat and drink and Donnie is just so fucking tired. Here, he's got his family around him, Mikey's nonchalance at Don's clinging a shield from the repercussions of whatever just happened. If Donnie just stays here and stays still, the fallout of everything won't find him. He wants to hunker down on this moment and hoard it forever. His family within reach, the scent of oolong, the warmth of a blanket wrapped around him, safe. For now. But Donnie can't stay here forever. Everyone will leave, eventually. To clean up, or to get food, or to get some sleep before they pass out at the table, passing on to something no one really understands but everyone fears.

It's not fair, Donnie wants to protest. He can't ask his family to sit here forever. But he doesn't want them to leave him. If he starts moving, this all ends. But he too can't stay here forever. He needs first aid. He's filthy and hungry and tired. And tea sounds wonderful. 

It's the hardest thing Donnie's ever done to open his eyes.

Mikey's shell is that same waxy yellow that tinges orange into a muddy brown at the edges. The lair beyond it is lit warmly, though Donnie's eyes are too blurry to see much more detail than that as it sways back and forth over Mikey's shell. Donnie knocks his forehead into Mikey's cheek harder than he means to as he turns his head. Past Mikey's right shoulder is a blue smear over a soft pink lump. It leans closer and Donnie sees the familiar shape of Leo's smile over a well-loved afghan. He blinks at it. Mikey slows his rocking.

"I dunno, guys, I think we should take Casey up on his offer," Mikey announces out of nowhere. Donnie wonders what Casey's offer was.

"Trying to get out of training?" Raph says. Donnie moves under the cover of the new conversation topic.

"No!" Mikey denies vehemently as Donnie shuffles to his side, turning to face the table. The zabuton they're on is the mega one that Raph sewed out of an old tablecloth, so they can sit side-by-side well enough. Donnie stays pressed to Mikey's shoulder. "Alright, maybe a little."

"We can train while we're at the farmhouse," Leo says, helpfully. Mikey groans. Ah. Casey's offer.

Donnie takes his mug - his favorite, the big one April got him from a farmer's market that has a beautiful purple glaze and can hold more than their yunomi - and feels the warmth creep into his hands. He sits curled around it as his family bickers. There's a protein bar sitting on the table in front of him - Mikey only has a wrapper left of his. Donnie sips his tea and eats the protein bar mechanically.

The food and drink, the warmth spreading through him, the sound of his family, and Mikey's jostling as he moves next to Donnie all soothe him. He blinks away the last of his tears and looks around the table at his family. Leo's always a little silly after a hard fight, like he uses up all his leader persona in battle and afterwards he'll make the stupidest jokes and laugh at everything. The shuddering relief of being alive. He smiles at Donnie and Donnie blinks at him, slow. Splinter sips his tea with a pleased squint to his eyes. His robe has earned another tear in the sleeve. Raph, who will undoubtedly fix it within the day and then pretend he didn't, eyes it over his own mug. He rolls his eyes fondly at something Mikey says, and Donnie swings his head towards Mikey, a second too late to catch the joke. He ends up just looking at Mikey, who looks back at him.

"Donnie agrees with me, right Don?" he prompts. It's absolutely suspicious. Donnie raises an eye ridge. Mikey gasps, overdramatic as always.

"Betrayal! From my own kin... at least Klunk will agree with me. Won't you, Klunk?"

Klunk's little paws patter right up to Mikey and she meows. Mikey scoops her up one-handed and settles her on his lap. She purrs and flops down. Mikey smooths his hand over her soft body and Donnie already misses swaying back and forth with Mikey. But the moment is gone. Raph is the first to break off, heading for the showers. Leo gets up to start clearing the table, and Master Splinter retreats to the couch, giving space but not ready to put his sons out of sight just yet. Mikey lingers, unwilling to rouse Klunk from her position in his lap.

Donnie throws back the rest of his tea, cold now that he's sat so long. The oolong is bitter - oversteeped, now - and his mug clinks as he sets it on the table.

Notes:

pressing questions that haunt me like is don a mind body dualist . does SAINW make don a modal realist. does SAINW make MIKEY a modal realist ??!