Chapter Text
There’s a certain sense you get when it comes to family. Things that you can just tell without much more than just a feeling. Things that key you in on certain tidbits - little bits like their emotions or if something’s wrong… little stuff like that. And it’s no different for a family of mutants living in the sewers under New York.
And Raph had a feeling.
A big brother feeling.
A Raph-feeling, so to say.
He wasn’t quite sure what to look out for, he just had an itch - an itch telling him that something was wrong. Or that something was about to go wrong.
But what?
He couldn’t quite place it. Not at the moment, anyways.
So he ignores it - at least for a little while. But as the day goes on, it only gets worse, worsened by the fact that he hadn’t seen heads nor tails of anyone for most of the day - not since breakfast, at least.
So he checks in on Leo first - the culprit of most of their shenanigans - but he's napping soundly in his subway car after a long night up competing head-to-head with Donnie over a new game they’d managed to sneak away from the trash pile behind the arcade up-top during it’s renovations from being decimated in the Krang invasion. Nothing too out of the ordinary, a hitched snore or two making him doubt whether or not the other was truly asleep or just avoiding the furrowed stare of his brother.
But nothing odd.
Mikey’s perfecting his slide-by street art, sporting two cans of spray paint as he speeds around the atrium leaving colorful lines in his wake. A flip here, a skid there - a master of his art. He waves excitedly upon seeing Raph, kicking his board up into a standstill.
“What’s up?” Mikey asks, only noticing the worry lines on the older’s face after sliding closer.
“Got a feeling-”
“A gooood feeling?” He asks, hopefully.
Raph shakes his head solemnly.
Mikey’s face falls, “A bad feeling!” He tosses his board to the side, cans clattering to the ground, and stands at attention. “Nothing going wrong here, bro!” Hands still coated with flecks of paint, he gestures to the room around them and shrugs. “I promise I’ve been here all day.” Evidence of that paint the walls and the halfpipe - small caricatures of each turtle and tags of his name sprawl artfully across the room.
Raph’s head tilts to the side with a small smile. “Didn’t doubt you for a moment, Mikes.” He looks around through the afternoon haze before settling on an idea. “
Although-
” he says, trailing off, looking down a tunnel illuminated at the end by a soft, neon purple, “there’s one last thing to check before we start to worry
too
badly.”
Mikey follows his gaze, gasping softly. “You think Donnie’s up to something?”
“Raph never said that!” he retaliates quickly, trying to save face, just in case. He composes himself quickly, brushing off the front of his plastron and standing tall. “Just haven’t seen him since last night.”
“Isn’t that normal?”
“Not when I’ve got a Raph-feeling it’s not.”
Mikey nods at the wisdom, a spark of resolution crossing his face. He motions with an open arm, letting Raph take the lead in his mission and the two make their way down the hall. The warm orange glow of the atrium gives way to the darkness of the tunnel which in turn eventually fades slowly into a soft purple ambiance. Echoes of their shuffling muffle the darker it gets, making the area feel smaller and smaller.
The two eventually stop in front of Donnie’s lab’s door. Raph raises a large fist to knock but before he can, a slender, mechanical claw zips out of the door and smacks his hand away.
“Hey!” he starts, holding his hit hand close to his chest.
“I’m busy ,” is all he gets in return, Donnie’s voice echoing from somewhere deep in the recesses of the lab.
“Well come be not busy for a sec!” Mikey calls out, reaching out to touch the door too - also getting smacked away in the same manner, both he and Raph now pouting.
There’s a groan and the clattering of something falling to the ground. Moments pass and the door slides open just a smidge, the purple clad turtle’s tired eyes peering from inside.
“What?” It’s not an ask as much as it is a demand. It’s abrupt and unwelcoming.
Raph growls under his breath and grabs the smaller turtle by the battle shell, picking him up and hoisting him out of the room. “You’ve been M.I.A. all day and this is how you say hello?”
Donnie rolls his eyes as he’s set down, flipping a hand in the air. “Hi, yes, hello, good morning-”
“It’s 5 P.M.”
“-afternoon, what do you want?”
The two lock eyes and squint, waiting to see who’d budge first, but Mikey’s already on it, jumping in between the two. “We’re checking in on you!” He’s excited, the statement upbeat. He leans forward, arms bent to his sides. “Sooooo-” he leads, “whatcha up to?” His gaze quickly scans over Donnie, taking in the dark bags under his eyes and the wrinkles in his bandana.
A moment passes before Donnie mumbles, “Research.” He looks off to the side, eyes trailing back to the room behind him, eager to get away.
“What kind of researchhhh?”
“Boring kind. Kind you’re not into. Can I go back now?”
Raph’s still squinting as his gaze moves from his brother up into the room beyond. It’s a bit too dark to make out anything specific, but the faint outline of
something
metallic poking out from under a tarp in the middle of the room is illuminated by the glow of dozens of computer screens and holograms, decorated with illegible text and schematics.
Donnie catches his stare and scuttles back in between him and the doorway. “It’s for the tank, guys.” His hands are raised innocently as he backs up further. He bumps into the doorway and stops sheepishly, an unconvincing smile plastered on his face.
“Isn’t it still out of commission from when it was crushed by those Krang vines?” Mikey asks, backtracking to just a few months prior. The eldest shifts a bit uncomfortably, but if the others notice, they make no mention of it. “You’ve been putting off fixing it for a while now…”
“Yeah, but what better time to make upgrades than with repairs?” Donnie looks satisfyingly smug with his response, but the others weren’t convinced. Or at least his older brother wasn’t. There was a lingering feeling.
A feeling that he was being lied to.
He blinks.
Donnie holds his facade.
“Fine,” the older huffs, turning heel, “good luck with your
research
project, don’t forget to get some fresh air soon.”
“Does this not count?” Donnie asks, gesturing to the fact that he was forcibly dragged out of his lab.
Raph says nothing as he marches off, Mikey trailing behind, waving farewell to a retreating figure that cast no second glance.
“Is it just me or did he look… kinda like garbage?” Mikey asks once he’s sure they’re out of hearing.
“Doubt he slept at all.” Raph stops in the middle of the tunnel, crossing his arms as he tosses through his thoughts. “He hasn’t mentioned anything that he’s been working on, has he?”
“I’unno, guess he made a breakthrough on whatever it is?” Mikey looks up to the taller turtle, now mirroring the furrowed brows as he too starts to think back over anything that could offer a hint.
A new voice chimes in as Leo shuffles into the lighted entrance of the tunnel, back from where they had come earlier, “Nerd was distracted all night, if that’s what you’re talking about.”
“He wasn’t gaming with you?”
“I mean, he was
‘technically’
,” Leo quips, tossing up air quotes, noticeably miffed at the situation. He yawns and stretches before continuing, “Kept trying to call it early but I wouldn’t let him leave until he won a round.”
“Since when do you
beat
Donnie in games?” Mikey asks, brow raised.
“Exactly!” he shouts, before realizing what his little brother implied. “Hey wait-”
He’s cut off by Raph shoving past them, leading them back to the atrium. “Did we just not notice him getting lost in whatever this is?”
Mikey and Leo both look at eachother, then shrug. “Maybe he’s just made a breakthrough?” Leo asks innocently.
“That’s what I said!” Mikey returns excitedly, the two of them fist bumping over the shared thought. “If that’s what it is, why not just let him wear himself out? Don’s smart, he’ll figure this out eventually.”
“Well he better figure it out soon, Splints wants us at training in a few hours.”
Leo groans. “
Again?
”
“Again.”
“Ughhh, fine.”
“C’mon, Leo,” Mikey pouts, “y’know Dad just wants us to be the best we can just in case anything else goes wrong again.”
“Like what, Krang invasion part deux?”
“Don’t joke about that stuff,” Raph retorts, frown settling deep on his face.
Leo opens his mouth but stops, holding his tongue after thinking it through for a moment. “Yeah. Yeah, you’re right. What’s got you so concerned about egg-head, anyways?” He tries to swerve the subject back on course.
“Raph-feeling.”
“Oh yikes, this is serious then.” He cracks his knuckles with deft fists. “Guess we can’t do anything until we find out more, though.”
Mikey slides over, “Yeah! Or maybe you’re just worked up about training later and we’re just blaming the wrong guy!”
Raph grunts and looks away. “My gut’s still got the feeling, but maybe you’re right. We’ll give it some more time, but if any of you notice anything weird - Tell. Raph.”
The other two salute before dispersing, Mikey returning to his previously discarded crafts and Leo shuffling off towards the kitchen.
Raph stays put, however, looking back over his shoulder down towards Donnie’s hallway. Part of him wants to go back, press the subject more but… brotherly trust, right?
He sighs, walking off to follow Leo’s trail.
Training’s a lot more fun with mystic powers. Portal hopping, nunchuck flailing, seismic force field slamming. All the things needed to make a bunch of cool ninja turtles even cooler.
Would be a lot more fun with a certain fourth member of the fam joining in. Sadly, there was a lack of mystic-tech around.
Splinter’s eyes squint as he watches, trying to keep up with the chaotic combination of brothers in the atrium. He counts to three on his fingers, albeit slowly. Staring down at his hand, he scrunches his face.
“Boys!” he yells, and the three of them - Mikey, Leo, and Raph, snap to attention before him. “Where’s Purple?”
They all shrug simultaneously.
“Don’t tell me I’ve just been imagining him slinking around here lately, I know he stole my box cutter yesterday and hasn’t returned it.” The rat’s face falls. “I’d use my nails to open my packages but I don’t want another hangnail. Not again…”
“What’s Donnie need box cutters for? Can’t he just ‘laser’ boxes open?” Leo whispers to his brothers under his breath but is nudged in the side by Raph, cutting the quip short.
The question is short lived as huffing, drawing closer, echoes through one of the tunnels leading to the chamber. Donnie slides into the room, bo staff in hand, panting. “I made it, I made it!” He gasps, standing in salute at the end of the lineup.
“Where have you
been
?” asks Splinter, maybe a bit more forcibly than intended. “And where are my box cutters!”
“Sorry! Sorry! I got sidetracked - lost track of time.” He’s still breathing heavily, leaning on the staff, prompting his brothers to all give him the once over. He looks
miserable
- undereye bags deeper than before, shaky, sweaty. And… covered in halfway wiped away ink streaks?
Leo leans over, “Dude, have you been up
all day
? And what’s up with the uhhh…” he gestures to the black lines covering his arm.
“Science sleeps for no man, dear brother.”
The blue turtle gives him another look. Donnie had done stuff like this before, but with a Raph-feeling looming over their heads? Oof.
They focus their attention back to their Master who turns from glaring down Donatello to refocusing back on the boys as a whole. He gives a simple nod once more and the gang leaps back into action.
The three of them from earlier were a well-oiled machine, working together in tandem with a fluidity that could only be attributed to the most well versed team. Now? There was a flaw in the machine - a cog had fallen out of place, hit the other gears, and collapsed to the floor.
And by that it means Donnie had smacked into Mikey during a flip, causing them to fly into Raph’s projection, which landed on a bit-too-slow to move Leo.
They all cast a frustrated glare in his direction, but he’s too busy counting the stars circling his head as they recollect themselves.
“C’mon D, focus up!” Raph chides, picking him up and setting him on his feet. “I understand you found something new and scienc-y to get into today but it’s no excuse for neglecting training!”
“‘M not neglectinn’,” he spits back with a slight slurring to his words, rubbing his jaw.
“What if the Foot Clan decides to steal something else and you’re like this? If Big Mama sends out some of her thugs to do her dirty work?”
“Then we’ll outsmart them like always.”
“Not like this you won’t. You have GOT to take better care of yourself.”
Donnie stands up straight and strides up to Raph, trying his best to shove his face into the other’s.. “It’s
one
day of self indulgence,
Raphael.
We’ll all be better off once I’m done anyways.”
“Done with
what
, pray-tell?”
“It’s a surprise!” He’s on the defensive now, shrinking away from the taller turtle and into himself, arms crossed, head down.
“Hey, hey-” Leo interjects, stepping between the two with arms raised. “Good points, from the both of you.” He turns to Raph first. “Donnie’s right - one day of this won’t spell the end of the world.”
The snapper’s eyebrow twitches, but he remains silent, lips pursed.
Leo turns to Donnie next. “But Raph’s right too, bro - we’ve got to be ready for anything. Maybe try these things in moderation next time?”
“Who made you the voice of reason?” bites back Donnie, grabbing his staff in both hands and wringing it tightly.
“Hey! I was trying to take your side!”
“Funny way of showing it.”
“BOYS!” Splinter yells once again, this time hopping in between the four of them. “Blue’s -surprisingly- right, Purple, you’re miserable. Take five and come back when you’re ready to take things seriously.”
Donnie opens his mouth but Raph steps back in after holding his tongue for so long before he could say anything. “So we’re just going to go soft on him after not taking things seriously?”
“I’m
not
soft, no one needs to go ‘soft’ on me,” Donnie barks, clenching his staff even tighter.
“Well you’re not
not
soft, especially as-is. You can barely hold yourself upright!” Raph points a riled finger in Donnie’s direction, acting as if the simple motion itself would topple the other over with little more than a hint of wind.
Donnie clenches his teeth but says nothing more, but his silence is betrayed by a flash of purple that illuminates from his staff. “I’m not…”
“You can’t be serious-” Raph chides back, eyeing the mystic-tech flaring to life, his own fists starting to become shrouded in his own red forcefield.
Mikey and Leo share a concerned glance but look up to Splinter who’s watching with narrowed eyes but halts any action from them with a raised palm.
“If you say I’m not taking things seriously , I’ll show you how serious I really am.”
Mikey steps forward gingerly, “Donnie-”
“That’s not-” the anger disappears from Raph’s face, replaced with something akin to regret. “That’s not what I meant, Donnie.” He sighs, fists falling into open palms to his sides, power dissipating. “I’m sorry if I said anything wrong, Raph’s just-”
“Just
what
?”
“-worried,” the snapper finishes, bringing up a gentle touch to the right side of his own face, lost in a thought.
Donnie stops, the mystic energy disappearing from his staff, eyes trailing Raph’s hand up to his face. Oh. Right. The staff is put away, but the feeling of tenseness isn’t quite dispelled. “I’m sorry too. I realize that was uncalled for. I’ll take the five.” He sounds dejected.
If Splinter was thinking anything, his neutral face was hard to read. Leo looks from him to his brothers, back to Mikey.
Actually, this whole room was hard to read.
“So…” he drawls, “we cool?”
“We’re cool,” both Donnie and Raph say together without looking at each other. They separate, striding away in different directions across the atrium - Donnie leaning against the wall and sliding to a crouching sit, and Raph returning to the center to signal that he was once again ready to resume practice training.
Of course it took them this long to notice. Weeks chipping away at this and the one time he decides it’s worth taking a bit more time to dedicate to his project, they notice. Fine.
Fine!
He’d go back to taking things slow.
But he was so close!
Donnie watches the others as they practice from his perch along the outskirts of the atrium. He wants to be back in his lab, he wants…
He wants to be out there with them too.
And he would! Soon! If all things considered went well enough. He just… he just had to finish this project first.
Raph wouldn’t have to worry about these kinds of things again. Splinter could trust him to take care of his own. The others would…
He sighs, burying himself deeper into his knees. What would they look over and see if they looked at him now? A sulking child that only selfishly wanted what he wanted? It’s not like he wasn’t planning things for the greater good, anyways. A lone finger traces the remnants of the ink he’d left on his arm just a bit earlier. Schematics, erased. Notes, gone. It was supposed to be a surprise, a show of his technical prowess - his intellectual genius.
He just needed more time.
Or…
Donnie blinks. He looks to his brothers, to his dad.
Or maybe he could…
He could show them things a bit early. No time like crunch time, right?