#lmao this is the war-weary donnie i was talking about the other day

[spectrumscribe]

... how about season one Donnie meeting season 5 Donnie. While season 5 Donnie knows that messing with the timelines is a terrible idea. He's just lost so much. His brothers have drifted so far apart. His father's dead. So, hes left with the choice of ruining his timeline for a possible better one. (You can choose what he does and the consquences if your want to do this dabble)

Anon this took a long time to answer, but trust me I have been thinking about it frequently ever since you sent this ask.

Donatello appears in Donnie’s lab with a burst of light; theair pressure popping in his ear canals and the smell of something singedfilling his nose.

Donnie stares, unable to articulate what’s just happened.His other self stares back, panting and looking like he’s just been throughhell.

A long silver cloak obscures most of his body, only his headuncovered. Donnie’s mirror self holds a demented looking staff in his hands,the rod leading up to a giant red hand clutching an hour glass.

“-what’s the date?” His other self gasps out.

Donnie looks closer, and distantly realizes that no, thisturtle isn’t his mirror self. The other Donatello is taller, has lines to hisface Donnie knows he doesn’t have. He’s carrying an air of someone on the edge,and looking ready to shove anyone near him over it.

“What’s the date?”His other self demands sharply.

Donnie startles, and blurts out the information requested onreflex. The other Donatello sags against his bizarre staff, and looks sorelieved it probably hurts.

“Oh good,” He says, smiling in a broken way. “I was worriedI’d overshoot or something.”

And then he nearly falls onto the floor, and Donnie rushesto catch him.

–/–

It takes only a few moments for the other him to catch hisbreath. In those moments, Donnie sees what he can only assume is a collectionof hot-sharp desperate emotions be shoved under the surface. It looks painful;to cover up so much all in one go.

“Who are you?” Iswhat he asks soon as he’s able. Except with a lot more confusion and swearinginvolved.

“I’m you,” is theweary and partially humorous answer. The other Donatello smiles as he saysthat, drawing at stress lines that make him look older by decades. “Well, I’myou, except nearly five years older and a hell of a lot more traumatized. Ha.”

Donnie thinks he looks too old to be just twenty.

The explanation is curt, to the point. Donatello- as Donnieis calling him, because two Donnie’s is just confusing even inside his head- explainswho he is, where he’s come from, and how he’s gotten into Donnie’s lab in theearly hours of the night.

“The time sceptre,” Donatello says, holding up the creepystaff as he does. “I stole it from someone we used to think of as a friend. Thecloak, too.” He smiles, but it’s a bitter expression. A lot of things aboutDonatello seem bitter. “It’ll hide my presence from the time mistresses, longenough I can get everything I need to done.”

“Uh,” Donnie says. “that explains so very little of what thehell is going on. Time mistresses?”

“They’re from the seventy-ninth dimension,” Donatello says,which doesn’t clarify anything but doesconfirm the multiverse theory. Hooray? “There’s a whole collection of them, asociety, even, and while we used to be friends with an apprentice of theirs, Isort of. Well. Burned that bridge to the ground when I broke into theirheadquarters and stole one, the most powerful time scepter they have, and two,one of their stealth cloaks. So long as I wear it, they can’t track mymovements through time. Just the ripples I leave in it.”

Donnie puts his fingers to his temples, trying to catcheverything all at once and make sense of it. “Okay, time travel and alternatedimensions are confirmed scientifically possible, great. Why are you doing allthis?”

Donatello’s expression hardens and goes cold. “To preventthe future I came from.”

Oh god. It’s worse than Donnie imagined. This is everyhorrible sci-fi thriller ever and he’s livingit.

“…and what sort of future is that?” He’s so afraid to ask.

Donatello remains cold, but takes on a bone deep exhaustion.“Well… for starters, our father died.”

Donnie was right to be afraid, and his heart goes colderthan Donatello’s expression.

“No,” He whispers, air knocked out of him. “No, that’s impossible.”

“He’s just as mortal as any of us, I’m afraid,” Donatellosays. His hands tighten around the scepter. “Shredder kills him three yearsdown the road from here, but not before a lot of really, really bad stuffhappens because of him. Because of both of them. I’m here to stop it.”

Donnie’s head is spinning. His father dies.  Died.It’s not even something he can properly imagine; the rat that’s always beenuntouchable in a fight, even with all four of him and his siblings ganging upon him. He died and Donnie sent himself back in time to prevent that. But-

“How?” Donnie asks, even though a part of him is alreadyarriving at multiple answers, including-

“Simple,” Donatello says. “I’ll kill Shredder before he cankill anyone else.”

He takes out a folded piece of paper; crumpled blueprint seton the table next to them and smoothed out. Donnie only has to glance at it toknow what’s drawn on its surface.

“And, you’re going to help me.”

–/–

Donnie already has all the materials needed, scattered throughouthis lab and in the garage. He’s horrified, and confused, and yet not.

He always knew he had the potential to build scarier things,deadlier things. He just didn’t, because it seemed so… terrible. Even in theface of everything he’s been through the last few months, it wasn’t ever a linehe wanted to cross.

Now, he has motivation. Both in the tried and true one ofwanting to protect his family, and in the intimidating figure his older selfpresents.

Between the two of them, they have everything nearly set upalready, despite only beginning a few hours ago. Donnie is hesitant now andagain, but Donatello works with machinelike pace and precision. There are nomistakes or pauses as he works across the table from Donnie; only focus andunrelenting concentration.

Donnie darts glances at his other self, examining thedifferences between them more closely.

Donatello had laid out his reasoning and motivations todestroy his own future. Most of it had been to do with what effect theirfather’s death had had on their family, but also… what had happened betweenthem all afterwards, and even before that.

Maybe Raph was always a little more physical and short-fusedthan needed. Maybe Leo got on their cases a lot and sometimes was a littleharsher than he should be. Maybe Splinter had always been a little bitstandoffish towards Donnie and Mikey’s interests and skillsets. That didn’tmean they were abusive, right?

A lot can change in half a decade, it seemed.

The accusations Donatello had told Donnie sat heavy in hischest; painful to think on and slimy feeling to imagine.

Donatello had looked so tired when he told Donnie thosethings. Exhausted and regretful. It’s notentirely their fault, he’d said, weall got dealt bad hands and they dealt with it worse than any of us. I canstill save them from that. We both can.

Save Leo, Raph, and Splinter from themselves and the peoplethey could become. Save Mikey from becoming detached and brittle smiling, madesharp and weary by war and devolving home life. Save April from becomingsomeone who burned too bright and carried too much anger and pain to handle.Save Casey.

“Who’s that?” Donnie had asked.

Donatello had paused for a moment, and then smiled in a wrymanner.

“Someone who helped me get back here,” He’d said. Then, withwarmth, “and some idiot you’ll learn to trust with your life.”

Then he’d paused, and sagged a little around his shoulders.Tired, grieving.

“He didn’t make it through the portal with me.”

Donatello went quiet after that.

Donnie still sees those things in Donatello’s posture, evenas they work quickly to assemble what they need. There are scars and lines toDonatello’s body and face that add to the exhausted air; making him look somuch older than twenty.

Donnie is quietly scared of those things. The age and thewear and the blank resignation, of what Donatello’s told him, and of theexplosives they have piled all around them.

He wants to go find his brothers. His father. He wants tograb them all and look them in the eye, and begthem to chase away any doubts he has about them, or their family, or theirlove. He wants to be a kid who can run to his family and have them explain awayeverything that’s horrible in the world. He wants them all to promise theywouldn’t ever become those people, and that he wouldn’t become Donatello.

But, Donatello is short of time. He’d said that even withthe cloak he still wears, eventually the time mistresses he stole from willfind him. The sceptre is too powerful to hide for long, and…

Donnie agrees, despite how everything is spiraling out ofhis control and feeling exactly like a black hole. He agrees that for theirfamily…

Well, he’s willing to do anything for them. Anything to keepthem whole, healthy, and happy. Even kill for them.

–/–

Donnie’s pulse races as they scale the building; terrifiedthat someone will somehow see them, despite all the precautions they’ve taken,and terrified because he has bombs onhis shell.

He’s designed plans for bombs over the years. Thought aboutchemicals and devices that could create the biggest boom. He’s never actually considered bringing those thoughts intoreality. Too dangerous, too extreme.

His other self still doesn’t seem to have any reluctance forthose sorts of things; carrying his half of the bombs without hesitance as theyclimb.

Donnie pulls out the first bomb he’s supposed to place, ashe reaches a nook of the church’s outside. The thing isn’t much bigger than hishand, but it weighs.

It feels like a precipice he’s about to topple from.

Donnie bites his lip, and reminds himself this is for thesake of his family. Even if it feels… wrong.

He places the bomb, locking it to the stone and activatingit. The little green light comes to life, and Donnie has to swallow bile as hehas to keep going.

How has no one caught them yet? How have they totallyescaped the notice of one of the most powerful crime lords in the world?Donnie’s hindbrain insists that their luck can’t hold, that even though hisother self said he knew the patrol patterns perfectly, they’re going to becaught and then everyone will die-

A shape falls past Donnie and his heart jumps out of hischest.

He whips his head to follow the shape, ready to detach his handfrom the metal grips around his palms and grab the first kunai he can-

-and he sees the black clad form of a guardsmen, metal mesheyes staring upwards, just before he hits the ground with a cracking thud.

Donnie stares, uncomprehendingly, at the corpse below him.

It’s in the shadows of the alley, and looks just like therest of the trash bags scattered along the ground. It looks like just anotherlump in the dark. Something no one would ever glance twice at.

He feels like throwing up.

Donnie slowly looks upwards, breath difficult to find.

His other self meets his eyes, blank and undisturbed. Andthen turns away as he disappears onto the roof.

Donatello had said they wouldn’t meet any guards. Thatthey’d get all the bombs in place without even having to worry about them. Allof Donnie’s observations of the church had said that was impossible, but he’daccepted the insistences anyways. Because he didn’t want to think of the truth.

Donatello lied to him. It somehow doesn’t feel like asurprise.

An aged mirror of his face reappears above him.

“Hurry up,”Donatello whispers over the ledge of the church. “I don’t have much time left.”

So he keeps saying, at least.

Donnie feels the weight of the bombs on his shell, slungcarefully inside a large duffle bag like they are. The sound of the thud playsover and over in his head.

He reminds himself that this is for his family, theirfuture, and that everyone inside this building is going to be dead very soonanyways. What’s one death sooner than that?

Donnie feels detached from himself as he keeps climbing. Hevaguely wonders if he’ll ever sleep again, after tonight.

–/–

“Are you sure?” Donnie asks one last time, staring at thebuilding they’ve wired to blow.

“I spent half a year examining every single day of ourlives, dating from April’s appearance to- to our father’s death,” His otherself says, bent double over the thicker, sturdier laptop from the Shellraiser.He’s letting Donnie look at it, but clearly needs no assistance as he hacks thecameras inside the church a second time. “I’ve crunched numbers andpossibilities and alternate options into oblivion, trust me,” Donatello looksstone-faced determined, so much so it’s making Donnie uncomfortable. “There isno other way. I’m sorry.”

He’s been saying that all night. Donnie’s starting to feellike it means more than just ‘sorry’.

Donatello’s typing slows, and he stops completely. Staringat the screen with intensity.

Donnie sees what he’s staring at, and swallows.

The Shredder.

Sat on his throne, discussing something the video feed won’tpick up. Foot soldiers stationed along the walls of the room, no sign of hissecond in commands or of Karai. Donatello said she was out at the moment, thatshe wouldn’t make it back in time.

Donnie, feeling dizzy, wonders why they weren’t killing heras well.

He turns his eyes back to the tips of the church. Two blocksaway, they have a perfect view of the top roof of the building. All the sharptowers, the piercing arches aimed at the sky.

Donnie is about to watch it all be destroyed, and have theknowledge he helped orchestrate it.

He can’t feel his legs. Reality feels like it’s sliding.

For his family. It was all for his family. He needed toremember that.

“Text Leo,” Donatello says, clipped and low. Donnie doesn’tlook at him. “Tell him to tell Karai… she should get back to her base soon, orshe’ll miss the show.”

Donnie stutters internally. “What? Why would- he’s with her? Right now?”

“Yes,” Donatello says; no hint of a lie. “Where did youthink he disappeared all the time?”

Donnie reels, implications about his brother gettingfriendly with one of the deadliest threats in their lives making his head spin.“Oh my god- he’s been- and he didn’t tellus?”

Donatello scoffs, the sound almost a bitter laugh. “Thisisn’t even the worst stupid stunt he pulls. Just text him, they’ll get heresoon enough.”

“Why? Why do weeven want her to see this?” It seems… overkill, making her watch her own fatherdie, as terrible as the both of them are.

“She doesn’t need to see it,” Donatello says. “I just needto tell her something before we go. Better she comes now than me having to huntfor her later. It’ll save time.”

Donnie doesn’t want to know. He does not want to know whathis other self wants to tell Karai; not with the dull, bitter tone to hiswords.

He texts Leo anyways. He puts away his phone before hestarts getting replies back.

“Ready?” Donatello asks, holding a finger over the key thatwill activate the countdown sequence.

Donnie wants to scream no.

“Yes,” He says, and it comes out strangled. “As I’ll everbe.”

Donatello nods, and turns back to the screen perched on hiscrossed legs. He presses the key, starting the thirty second countdown.

Donnie tears his eyes from the changing numbers, to glanceat Donatello’s expression.

He doesn’t look like he’s feeling anything at all.

“I’m sorry,” Donatello says suddenly, the flashing screenlighting his face strangely. “You shouldn’t have had to see this. Do any ofthis.”

Twenty-five seconds.

“Then why are you making me?” Donnie asks, because he hasto. “You could’ve done this on your own. I know you could have.”

Twenty seconds.

“Because,” Donatello says. He doesn’t take his eyes off thefigure of Shredder or the countdown. “you have to learn, whether you or I wantyou to.”

Fifteen seconds.

“Learn what?”

“How to do what needs doing, so we don’t lose anyone everagain.”

Ten seconds.

Donnie can’t find anything to say to that.

Donatello doesn’t look at him. Only staring at the Shredder,with cold hate slowly creeping into his expression.

Five seconds.

Donnie looks away, but he counts the seconds anyways.

Four.

Three.

Two.

Donnie shuts his eyes.

The explosion goes off, shuddering through the air.

(Continued on AO3, since it’s going to get a fair bit longer.)