Why Fearless Isn't Fear-less

2

When Donnie had heard his brothers fight he had shrugged it off and kept working while Mikey slept under the table. He'd heard enough "I hate you"s and "I wish you weren't my brother"s to be numb to it to a point of total dissociation.

What stuck for Donnie, however, was when Leo argued back. Not just the usual, but to Splinter. He had perked up and suddenly stopped the retro mutagen he was working on and listened. Even Mikey woke up to listen, rubbing his eyes with a yawn. "What do you think it's about this time?" He joked.

Donnie frowned. "I don't know."

Soon after, Leo had stormed into the room and gone out back to meditate- most likely. He had been mixing chemicals for minutes but couldn't get the fight off his mind. "A burden." That's what he had said he and his brothers thought of him. This wasn't true, of course, but it surprised him nonetheless.

Once Leo had come back inside and did the usual "nothing happened" routine things seemed to go back to normal. He had screwed up another batch and sighed, folding his arms over his head as he laid it on the table. Leo and Splinter had been hounding him about retro-mutagen for Karai and the humans in Dimension X.

He pushed the beakers and Bunsen burner aside with a loud sigh. Mikey, who had not left his presence for the last couple hours, finally spoke again. "Take a break D, we can watch TV together!" He smiled brightly. "I'll even let you pick!"

"Wow, what a privilege," Donnie quipped back sarcastically. He abided, however, and sat down next to his younger brother. Mikey handed him the VHS tape box and crossed his legs.

While they watched the show, Donnie's mind wandered. What if Leo was wrong? He knew Mikey and him appreciated him, at least to themselves. He was their brother and leader. Maybe Raph was just so used to getting under his skin he forgot that. Besides, he didn't get any "thank you"s for being the only smart one. Sure he taught them the basics, but they're the basics.

He yawned, exhausted. "Have you been sleeping D?" Mikey asked solemnly. He shook his head in response. "Cant, too busy working on the retro-mutagen and saving New York."

Mikey felt bad: he knew his brother was upset about all of it, thinking somehow it was his fault since Leo went into a coma. He blamed himself for a lot of things out of his control, Mikey realized. He had that in common with Leo, who always played the blame game with himself.

He held up his three fingered hand and rested it on Donnie's shoulder. "You're doing great bro!" Donnie smiled wistfully. "Thanks little bro."

.

Maybe it was his fault. He put pressure on his sons to perform as expected to him: perfect. He trained them hard, delegated them, coached them. He brought them through life with security- as much as he could as a mutant rat- and a home.

Despite this, something was missing.

It grew apparent when Donnie would have complete meltdowns about his lab and who touched what, or when Mikey and Raph go back-and-forth for hours about who is more annoying. Even when his eldest Leo would have panic in his eyes when something was not up to his own personal standard.

The socialization.

Though, this could mean a lot of things. They were in a sewer alone for years, and despite having each other, that's it. Just each other. TV wasn't the same as talking to someone face-to-face no matter how much Leo insisted Captain Ryan was his best friend.

Books weren't a substitute for people, despite Raph's irritation of the subject. Even his least social son, Donnie, had been seen in chat rooms on the Internet looking for a community before Splinter shut it down, out of fear.

Was it fear that was holding him back? When they first ventured to the surface, he had been extremely wary. He thought, what if it goes wrong? What if they don't come back like my daughter? Splinter frowned at the thought, and at the same time he wasn't shocked they got themselves into trouble.

When he heard his eldest son spit out "Are we?" in rebuttal to his scolding he was shocked. Of course they were, but he didn't want to assume his son was overreacting right away. It could've been the nerves, or the stress, or even the food they scoured for being limited.

Splinter massaged his temples and Raphael walked away from him. He had talked with him about what he said versus what he meant to say and that he should at least apologize for hitting him. Raphael agreed...maybe. It was hard to tell if his sons were lying more than usual these days, even about simple things.

He limped to the back room where Donnie was now napping and Mikey was watching TV. He smiled a bit, but he was worried about Leonardo. Maybe his son was just overreacting. He would hope that's what it meant, and not the grim alternative.