Chapter Text
Four hours, nineteen minutes, and twenty-six… twenty-seven seconds.
It felt like it had been longer.
Raphael and Casey had found their way to April’s apartment a little over an hour ago and April, desperate for something to keep her busy, had been slowly, slowly wrapping up their injuries since they had arrived.
Four hours, twenty-one minutes, and four seconds.
Michelangelo seemed frantic. Sixty-three phone calls, twenty-seven voicemails, and one hundred and five text messages. The tapping of his fingers on the screen was too loud. Kirby was pacing in the corner, and every word he muttered grated on Donatello’s ears. Every step he took made his bones ache. It was too much. He could feel every inch of his being crawling and shaking and twitching with overstimulation. The blood drying on his leg felt tight. The pressure of it was nearly unbearable. He hardly even felt the wound itself, just a dull ache that only amplified the sensations around it.
Four hours, twenty-four minutes, and fifty-three seconds.
When April touched his arm, he nearly leaped out of his skin. The feeling of her skin on his, usually welcome, made him want to crawl into his shell and hide. A chill went down his spine and he shivered violently, shaking his hands at his sides as he would if he was trying to rid them of water. He vaguely heard himself mutter something, but whatever it was didn’t register. April, thankfully, backed away. Raphael called his name, his voice muffled by the roaring in Donatello’s ears.
Too much, too much, too much!
He needed to do something. Needed to find a way to ground himself before he completely panicked. But what? There wasn’t much they could do, stuck here as they were. They only had this small room to regroup in. A room that echoed all the sounds around him, and had walls that were chipped and dry and rough, and floors that were bare wood and only covered by one very old, very coarse rug. He clicked his tongue and sat against the wall, cringing as his shell scraped down the old, chipped paint until he hit the floor. His fingers began to dance almost of their own accord, drumming a pattern against his legs as he forced himself to take deep, deep breaths.
He could do it. He just had to push through a little longer. The others were relying on him. Leonardo trusted him to take care of them- he’d told him so. He needed to get up and lead like his brother would. It was up to him to make sure they all made it out of this alive.
With or without their leader.
He was tired, though. His mind felt fuzzy and exhausted, and he doubted he could even solve the most basic of equations at that exact moment. It felt like, somehow, his brain had disconnected and could only play the pixelated black-and-white static that played on their old, beaten television back home. He took a deep breath. The cold air was sharp in his lungs, and suddenly it felt like he’d been dunked in a pool of water. Things started to clear again. He could hear Mikey talking into his phone and Raph calling his name. He sounded annoyed.
“We need to get Leo back.”
Four hours, twenty-eight minutes, and sixteen seconds.
Mikey let out a small noise as if he was being choked and rubbed at his eyes with one hand, the other gripping his phone too tight. The screen showed another failed call to their eldest brother.
Raph laughed, loud and long. It wasn’t quite right. It was too rough, too heavy, too deep.
“Oh- oh yeah, that’s great! Let’s just go out there, face down a few hundred Kraang, and get him back. Super easy! Only one problem, genius-” He turned then, his green eyes blazing with so many emotions that Donnie couldn’t even begin to identify all of them. “We don’t know where he is. He won’t pick up the damn phone, so we can’t ask him. You don’t have your computer, so we can’t track him. And the last time any of us saw him, he was being chased into the sewers by a dozen Kraang bots!”
He was angry, but his tone was panicked in a way that Donnie had never heard from him. He was terrified. Donnie’s chest felt tight. His eyes burned with unshed tears, and he had to turn his head away to try and regain his composure. He didn’t know what to do. This was what Leo did- not him. He clenched his fists and turned back toward his brothers after a few long moments.
“No, we don’t know where he is, but we could at least be out there trying to find him, instead of sitting here, waiting for him to show up on his own!” His bravado sounded forced even to him, but it did the job and got Raph to take a step back and look away.
The room fell blissfully silent. The only sounds to be heard were the screams of the people outside of the building and the crashing and banging of the Kraang as they stormed the city. April took a step toward him, her hand hovering over his shoulder. She clenched it into a fist and seemed to hesitate before pulling it back again without making contact. “The sun is starting to set,” she said. Her voice was quiet, but somehow easily cut through all the background noise. “Let’s at least wait until it’s dark before going back outside. We’ll stand a better chance at night. Mikey can keep trying to call him until then.”
But that was too long! It was hours before it would get fully dark, and even then, who knew if they would actually be able to find Leo before it was too late. The longer they waited-
He closed his eyes tightly and nodded, robotically turning away and leaning his forehead against the wall in front of him without saying a word. They were ninjas. They lived in the shadows, and Leo could handle himself. He’d probably already found somewhere to hole up until the worst of the invasion passed. Maybe he’d just lost his phone, and that’s why they couldn’t reach him. Either way, it was only Kraang. Leo had defeated hundreds on his own, and Donnie had no doubt he could handle a few more without them. For now, they would wait. Once it got dark, they would find their brother again, and all would be well.
Perhaps that was why it was such a surprise when the window shattered, glass shards showering down on the brothers, and a katana was suddenly shaking on the other side of the room, its blade buried deep in the drywall.
Five hours, twelve minutes, and forty-seven seconds.
Donnie noticed several things in only a few short seconds. The first, that the handle of the sword was wrapped with a too-familiar bandana. The second, that the bandana itself was no longer blue, but a deep purple, stained by the red blood dripping from its tattered ends. The third, that the voice calling for them from the streets outside was not the high-pitched robotic cadence of the Kraang.
Shredder had taken their brother.
Donnie was the second one to the window, only a moment behind Raph, and long before the others, who seemed to be frozen in place, staring at the sword, and the mask that hung from it.
On the street, an army of Foot Soldiers were standing, untouched and poised to fight. Rahzar and Fishlegs were at the base of the building, staring up at them with sharp, dangerous grins. Tigerclaw waited in the middle of the street, and beside him, standing on the roof of a car, was the Shredder. They were all bruised and bleeding. Fishlegs looked like he’d been thrown into a building, and Tigerclaw had met the wrong side of Leonardo’s blades. The only one who looked to still be in good health was Shredder himself, who held their brother against his chest, supporting all of his weight with one arm while the other held his katana at his side.
Donnie felt his breath catch in his throat when he took a moment to look at his brother. Behind him, Mikey yelled out Leo’s name.
How was he still alive?
His shell was cracked, a portion of his plastron shattered. More of him was covered in blood than not, and it was hard to see where one injury ended and another began. One of his arms was obviously dislocated, hanging limply at his side at an angle that shouldn’t be possible, and his right leg looked like it had been run over repeatedly. He could see the white gleam of exposed bone, and blood was already gathering on the car beneath it. It took a few moments before he spotted the shallow rise and fall of his chest. He was breathing- but barely.
Donnie’s arm shot out to the side, just barely managing to catch Raph across the chest before he could manage to escape out the window. His brother let out a frustrated cry and smacked Donnie’s hand aside, but it was too late. Shredder already had a better hold on Leo, and with a blade pressed so tightly to his throat, none of them dared move in his direction.
“Surrender now, and come to me without a fight, or I will kill your brother and send him somewhere you will never be able to retrieve him.”
Shredder’s voice rang through the street, echoing off of brick walls and glass windows, and Donnie shivered. His mind was in overdrive- he hardly even noticed Mikey grabbing onto his arm and shaking him. His brothers’ voices were distant echoes that he couldn’t quite understand. Rahzar was blocking the only real exit from the building, and Fishlegs was standing directly below their window. If they tried to get out that way, the footbots below would easily overtake them. Raph was injured, and Mikey would immediately surrender in order to get Leo back, and he couldn’t possibly hold them off on his own. Even if they did manage to fight their way to Leo, there was no way he could walk on his own, and they still had the Kraang to worry about escaping from. His eyes darted around the street, looking desperately for an escape, for a way to save their brother-
He caught a flash of blue.
He looked back to Leonardo, who had somehow managed to crack open his eyes just enough to meet Donnie’s gaze. That was good! Now Donnie could make sure he was okay. If he could open his eyes, maybe he could send some signal- some sign of what they should do to get out of this. They were trapped. But if Leo could-
…Oh.
Leo was tired. His eyes were dull and glassy, and it looked like a fight to keep them open. His gaze locked with Donnie’s, and he gave a near-imperceptible shake of his head. He twitched his hand to the right and let his mouth fall open, choking in a deep, rattling breath that took too much effort and made his body convulse sharply. He was in so much pain, and there was nothing Donnie could do to help him. A bright pink glow appeared from somewhere, and there was a feeling of intense pressure on his shoulder, muffled voices crying out in panic, sobbing and wailing, and the roaring in his ears was growing louder, louder, louder-
And suddenly, he understood.
Five hours, sixteen minutes, and twenty-eight seconds.
He suddenly felt as though a stone was stuck in his throat. Something ugly unfurled in his gut, wrapping his insides in a vice and squeezing. He couldn’t move- couldn’t breathe. Leo’s eyes pleaded with him, begging him to understand and to listen. Donnie’s chin began to tremble, and his vision blurred. He shook his head.
Please, he begged. Please, don’t make me.
Something softened in his brother’s expression. Something small and easily missed. His eyes cleared for just a moment, acceptance and affection shining so clearly that Donnie had to look away before he lost the hold he had on his tears. He gripped the windowsill so tightly his knuckles turned white and his arms began to shake. He only had a few seconds left to come to a decision. It was impossible. There was no winning here, and he knew it. So, he clenched his teeth hard and forced himself to release his grip on the wood panels in front of him and straighten his back. His mask was wet with tears when he looked up again, and he couldn’t quite hold back the sob that tore its way from his throat as he met his brother’s eyes once more. He forced himself to smile, and though he knew it was weak, he didn’t miss the way Leonardo relaxed at the sight of it.
He nodded once, promises and words unspoken passing between them, and he reached behind him to grip Mikey’s wrist tightly and pull him forward.
Leonardo wasn’t making it out of this.
What came next would haunt him for the rest of his life.
It happened in a split second. Both Donnie and Leo moved at the same moment, springing into action. Donnie flung Mikey out the window and to the right, forcing him to grab onto the nearby fire escape to avoid falling to the ground below. April and Kirby followed immediately after. “Climb! Go, go, go!” He pulled Casey behind him and swung onto the ladder, trusting Raph to follow them without needing any orders. He ignored Mikey’s protests and kept yelling at him to go faster and faster. They needed to get to the roof, now. Behind him, he heard Raphael scream, a guttural cry filled with so much anguish and rage and his body responded before his mind could catch up, and he looked down to the street.
Leonardo’s other katana was back in his hand and dripping with blood, and a deep cut had appeared on Shredder’s side. His other hand was at his throat, and fresh blood was oozing from between his fingers. Donnie sobbed as he watched him convulse with each breath he tried (and failed) to take. Above him, Mikey wailed, his voice high and trembling.There was a sickening crack, a flash of silver, and Leo stumbled backward, his plastron split across his chest. His leg buckled underneath him and he fell, the light in his eyes fading even as Shredder landed one last kick and sent him tumbling into the Kraang portal behind him.
Five hours, eighteen minutes, and forty-seven seconds.
Turning away hurt. Oh God, it hurt. As soon as he got to the roof, he grabbed Mikey’s hand and ran like hell. He had to get away. Had to get far, far away. He could hear the others following as he sprinted across the rooftops. When Kirby yelled out that he had somewhere for them to go, he didn’t think, just fell back far enough for him to take the lead. Then, when the older man was mutated in the street in front of them, he only grabbed April instead and bodily threw her and Mikey into the back of her father’s van as Casey took the wheel.
“What- Donnie, what are you doing? We can’t- we can’t leave him! We have to go back! He could still be alive, we need to help him-” Raphael’s protests echoed through the alleyway, but Donnie refused to listen. There was nothing to be done, nothing they could possibly do, and he knew it. He grabbed his older brother by the shell and spun him around, pushing him toward the van with all his strength. They had to go.
“It’s too late, Raphael,” he said. His voice was quiet and hoarse. He only knew Raph had heard him when he felt him stiffen in his grip. “Leonardo is dead.”
It took exactly five hours, eighteen minutes, and forty-seven seconds for Donatello’s life to change completely.