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thepurpleone) wrote2022-10-17 04:52 pm
Mikey chooses to ignore the first snip. He scans the room before finding the most pointer-pole-stick looking thing he can find to help himself look and feel more "professional". The more he can appear in character, the better, this was important.
He's noticed the change in attire. The purple accents that were far more common when they were younger. They would talk about that, later. Baby steps.
"Who is the doctor here?" Mike asks, tapping Donnie's head with the stick and clearing his throat. "Now, unfortunately I was not able to create a slide show or any visual medium to accompany me for this Jam, so you will have to make due with my sultry voice."
He pauses a moment, both to assess Donnie and search for any signs of fleeing and for dramatic affect.
"First of all, while movie night was as fantastic as always, I couldn't help but notice something was a little off." He folds his hand behind his back and paces a little as he speaks before pausing to lean in close to his brother. "Does there happen to be something that you're keeping from me, dearest brother of mine?" He doesn't move his gaze, Donnie never was a great liar.
Mikey leaned in a tad bit more, his eyes narrowing. Donnie may not be running, but he wasn't going without a fight. Mikey didn't want to admit to the pang he felt, knowing there really was something Donnie was hiding from him.
He stepped back and crossed his arms, looking over Donnie once more. Best to start small.
"Your gloves. Those are new. And you've gone back to purple." Clear, observational facts, no denying that one.
The words hit in a way Mikey can't quite make sense of.
"What do you mean?" he asks quietly, the mood a little dampened by Donnie's snippishness. They aren't playing around.
He looks down as the arm is extended to him and reaches out to touch it, only to pull away as soon as his hands touch the strange material. "What is it? Does it hurt?" He knew something was off at the movie night, but everything had a logical explanation, had an easy reason. But now, things were starting to fall apart, to crack. Mikey rubs at his arms nervously.
Looking back up, Mikey has so many questions. Mainly how Donnie got the new strange layer. But before he can, the arm is back in Donnie's lap and he asks a question that shatters what's left of Mikey's carefully crafted reality.
Donnie knows how old he is. There is no reason why he wouldn't know. He has to know.
Mike's face crumples and he takes a step back.
"You know." he says, because for once, he wants Donnie to be able to lie.
Finally, Mikey sits down. His fingers tangle nervously together, tactile in some sort of distorted rhythm. He can't stand to look at Donnie, too much truth staring back at him, but he can't seem to look away for too long, instead he keeps him in the corner of his eye.
He doesn't want to answer.
"15. I'm 15. Almost 16..." he says, shaking his head.
This wasn't good. Donnie was starting to panic and Mikey was all too familiar with the process at this point. He had to help but he was taking a moment to handle and process his own shock.
In a way, he had known what the space bridge could do, what it did do, it had been explained to him when he arrived, but he had never really connected... never considered the implications... the possibilities. His brothers were here, all of them, with him! That's all he ever wanted, especially after nearly loosing each of them only months ago.
And that's what was important wasn't it? It didn't matter where, or when, Donnie came from, he was here, and he was alive and he was still so very much Donnie, just how Mikey remembered, just... not the age Mikey left him.
It shouldn't matter, so why did it sit like a rock in his gut?
"What... where... I..." he started, trying again and again to parse out his own words. Finally he looked up at Donnie with shining eyes. "How old are you?"
15.. at most. Mikey was older then him and that truth more than any other hit him like a kraang tentacle to the gut. There was something so off-putting, so disconnecting by the idea that it set his whole reality on edge. Mikey was supposed to be the youngest, the baby, Donnie couldn't be younger, that just wasn't how anything worked.
He didn't know where to go from here so he asked what seemed the next logical question, as loaded as it was.
"Is anything the same?"
Maybe it wasn't as bad as he thought. He was doing his best to take as many positives as he could from this situation. It was impossible to tell exactly how similar their timelines were unless they went over in excruciating detail. Which Mikey might do. Later. But for now, he was happy with close enough.
And Leo... he was so similar Mikey hasn't even considered cornering him for a feelings jam, only Donnie has seemed off. And now Mikey knew why. Leo was from the same time, or enough of a proximity to barely tell the difference.
"The Kraang," Mikey said softly, finally taking off the fake glasses that had been threatening to fall off his face the whole conversation. "Leo he..." he's never said it out loud. He's never had to, everyone already knew. Maybe he doesn't need to now. But he wants to, wants someone to hear the thing no one wanted to talk about.
"He sacrificed himself. He was trapped in that place and if I didn't... if we didn't bring him back." He scrubbed at his eyes, letting out a little sob.
There is so much more to be said but Mikey doesn't think either of them are really up for talking anymore. So instead, Mikey does what he has always done best.
As Donnie collapses in front of him, he scoots a little closer. He knows Donnie doesn't like being touched, but he also knows there are acceptions to the rule and Mikey has been one of them, more often then not. He wraps Donnie in a hug, letting his own tears slide down his face.
"You're still my brother." He said, his voice rough. "I still love you, Donatello."
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