My Brother's Weight

The dojo was dimly lit with candles scattered all around. Leonardo resided in the corner of the room, his posture perfect and breathing slow as he was deep in meditation. The teenager inhaled through his nostrils and exhaled through his mouth as he tried to clear his mind of all thoughts. His eyebrows furrowed with concentration in his efforts to discard recent memories from the battles he and his brothers were a part of. But the more he tried to silence his thoughts, the louder they became.

So much had happened since their fifteenth annual Mutation Day, or as his human friend April called it, their birthday. Leo never thought of Mutation Day as his birthday since it was the day he was exposed to the ooze and not the actual date of his birth. His stringy thoughts lingered to others things. Baxter Stockman and his M.O.U.S.E.R.S. Chris Bradford and Xever. The Kraang. The Shredder. The Rat King. Karai…

Of course, he couldn't forget his allies, but the more he thought about them, the only thing he would remember was their pain. Pigeon Joe. Murakami-san. Leatherhead. Master Splinter. April. Karai. The Pulverizer…

Leo frowned as memories of the bumbling, clumsy vigilante flashed through his mind. Timothy, his real name, was just another teenager with a normal life. He had so much to live for, and he gave it all up because he wanted to be a hero. While Leo admired Timothy's intentions, he also knew that Timothy's method of acting upon it were not well-thought out in any shape or form. It was one thing to say you want to be a hero, but another thing to dress up in a costume and run around the city at night playing vigilante.

The leader remembered how his sibling Donatello had taken the boy under his wing and had tried to teach him in the ways of invisibility. His efforts were in vain. Timothy had later joined the Foot, oblivious to the negative goals of the ninja clan, and became a test subject to a mutation experiment the Shredder had ordered in an attempt to create stronger Foot ninja. Timothy willingly exposed himself to the harsh alien chemicals and had mutated into a large, gelatinous-like creature, or Mutagen Man, as Mikey called him.

Leonardo's heart broke at the memory of Donatello's face when they had to contain the Pulverizer in a containment unit that now resided in the intellect's room. Donatello had blamed himself for what had happened to Timothy and had vowed to stop at nothing until he found a way to cure him. The eldest turtle sighed in defeat, knowing that the images of his brother's sorrow would not leave his mind.

He brought a three-fingered palm to his face as he rubbed his crusted eyes. Donatello had always been the empathetic one of the group, and the purple-banded turtle had spent countless nights studying Kraang information they had gathered in past battles. Leonardo and his brothers worried about their sibling constantly, trying everything they could think of to coax Donatello away from his notes, away from the computer, away from the canister in his room containing what once was Timothy.

Their efforts had been to no avail. Donatello would hide in his lab for days, only coming out for missions and food. When he was locked in his lab, he only granted access to Master Splinter and April; and even their efforts seemed futile. His brother's guilt was tearing him away from his family, destroying everything that he was. It had been weeks since the last time Leonardo had seen that tooth-gaped smile of Donatello's, and he would do anything to see it again, now more than ever. The teenager had been so optimistic, and now he never so much as smirked. The blue-banded leader's heart sank as he remembered the numerous nights that Donatello would work through and the numerous times the leader heard his brother cry.

He could almost hear it right now…

No.

He…He wasn't imagining…

That really was Donatello's crying Leonardo was hearing…

Green eyelids flung open as the faint sobs were picked up by highly-trained ears. Leonardo stood up and slowly moved towards the sound, abandoning the dojo before so much as putting out the now dripping candles. Moving with absolute silence, Leonardo made his way through the den and into the hallway, soon reaching the door to his brother's lab. Bandaged hands reached for the knob when another sniffle bounced off of the walls, making Leonardo frown.

Donatello was not in his lab…those sounds came from his personal bedroom. Leonardo slowly turned to the door on the right. Donatello had not slept in his bedroom since Timothy's accident; he always slept on a cot near his computer. The eldest reluctantly placed his hand on the knob and twisted it to find it was unlocked. Normally, Donatello unlocking his door would have been a good sign, but the eldest brother knew that Donnie only did this as a safety precaution when he slept. The door was nudged open as Leo stepped into his brother's quarters.

"….L-Leo?"

The turtle cringed at the unsteadiness and faintness of the other's voice.

"Hey, Donnie" he greeted just barely above a whisper.

"…Wh-What is i-it?" the mutant whimpered out, hiccupping a sob.

Leonardo frowned at his brother's current state. His equipment was scattered on the floor, something that normal, OCD Donatello would never allow. There were no lights in the room, not even the faint light of Donatello's T-Phone. Donnie himself was a mess. His eyes were bloodshot due to his tears and lack of sleep, although it was difficult to tell with the turtle's mask covering his face. The crack of light that escaped into the room revealed that Donatello was paler then before, signs of exhaustion, dehydration, and malnourishment.

"Donnie…"

Leonardo was shocked as his voice cracked. He tried to swallow the lump forming in his throat. He couldn't show weakness. Not when Donatello needed him to be strong. His feet moved towards his brother's bed, patting quietly. Leo sat down on the side of the mattress, making a note of the musty blanket that probably had not been washed in more than a few days now.

"I…I heard you…i-in the dojo…" he managed to push out.

Leo felt the bed shift as Donatello sat up, cringing at the sickening crack he heard as his brother bent what they all considered their backs. Leo managed to look up at his brother, who was peering at him with sorrow.

"…Sorry" Donatello answered, looking down at the blanket as he began to play with the hem of it between large, yet nimble fingers. Leonardo frowned at this.

"Donnie…" he began, "we're worried about you."

"I know" the brother replied. "You've made it perfectly clear."

"…Please stop this."

Donatello fisted his hands and could feel the pent-up anger and frustration build up inside of him.

"Stop this? You want me to just, STOP this?" he choked out, his voice shaking from pure willpower.

"I can't just STOP, Leo. I p-promised Timothy. I-I'm so close I can almost feel it." The teenage genius gritted his teeth, his voice now dripping with negativety.

"I didn't mean that, Donatello" Leo responded, his voice becoming more assertive and increasing in volume.

Donnie cringed at the use of his full name. His brothers only used each other' full names when they were angry or in a serious situation.

"I mean, stop hiding like this, from us." Leo placed his own hand over Donnie's fist.

"Let us help you."

Donatello whimpered. He hated showing his feelings, that he was just as much a teenager as Raphael or even Michealangelo. Leonardo hated that about him. He would play psychiatrist all the time for his brothers, April, and even Master Splinter from time to time. But when it all came down to it, Donatello wouldn't tell a soul about how he felt. Because in his mind, it didn't matter. He always put others before himself. The only problem was, there were so many others that Donatello didn't have time to care about his opinion. And it ate him up inside.

Olive-green fingers tightened as Donatello felt another wave of emotion threaten to break loose.

"Donatello…please…"

And that was it. Donatello wasn't sure what is was; the time, his lack of sleep and water, or just the constant build-up of self-sorrow, but at that moment, Hamato Donatello lost control.

Tears burst and flowed down the turtle's cheeks as he wailed into his older brother's shoulder. Leonardo held the broken teenager in a comforting hug, trying to hush his brother soothingly. For most of the next hour, the two brothers sat in silence, the only sounds being a sob from Don or a whispered hush from Leo. Leo wished he had the wisdom that his father had when it came to comforting words, but right now, all Donatello needed was to cry.

Leonardo glanced down at the patterns of his brother's carapace as his cries finally seemed to die down.

"Leo…"

Leonardo turned his head a bit, hoping to catch his brother's words.

"…Tomorrow is Mother's Day…"

The eldest brother's eyes widened in understanding and anguish. Somewhere out in New York City, Timothy's mother was waiting and worrying for her son, unaware of his now mutated form or even his current location. Tomorrow was a day for sons and daughters to honor their moms, but Timothy will not have the chance to do so. Leonardo sighed shakily, a lone tear escaping him and falling down his cheek.

Leonardo understood the burden on Donatello's shoulders. The burden of another's well-being.

But while he understood, Leonardo knew there was nothing he could do to carry his brother's weight.