Archived Story

Poisoned Pawn

TW: Implied mystic drug use (?)

Donnie threw his machinery to the side, absolutely abandoning his will to live after returning from their mission. Mikey followed close behind, solicitous for the wellbeing of his brother. He was more than aware about his brothers more intricate emotions.

Well, they were the same feelings everyone feels, but a challenge for him to understand and even more difficult to communicate them. All in all, they were difficult for him to navigate, and even more difficult for others to understand. He watched as his older brother wrestled with his tech after the mission.

Donnie discarded his machinery, slamming his tools aside in frustration. The usual spark in Donnie's eyes had dimmed, replaced by a hollow exhaustion. Mikey's instincts screamed to help, but he hesitated, unsure how. He settled beside Donnie, a silent presence, offering what comfort he could.

"Hey, Donald?" Mikey asked softly, concern etched on his face. Donnie remained silent, his frustration palpable. Mikey struggled to understand what had sparked it - their mission was partially successful, after all. The oozesquitoes were released in New York, and they'd depleted the web slingers, but it seemed like a minor setback. Donnie usually didn't invest so emotionally in their missions; that was typically Raph's domain.

Mikey tried again, adopting his Dr. Feelings persona. "Need to talk to Dr. Feelings?" he asked, voice calm and soothing.

Donnie finally responded, his tone firm. "I'm perfectly fine, Michael. Leave me be." He gathered his tech and stalked off to his lab, leaving Mikey puzzled and worried.

Mikey trailed after Donnie, persistence etched on his face. "You sure you're okay? You seemed pretty upset with that fox yokai," he ventured, striking a nerve.

Donnie flinched, his composure cracking. A tense pause hung in the air before he spun around.

Donnie's thoughts swirled, frustration boiling over. "Why can't she just choose a side? Why must she be so... contradictory?" He struggled to articulate his emotions, uncharacteristically tongue-tied.

Mikey filled the gap. "Confusing?"

Donnie nodded, grateful. "Exactly! One moment she's aiding us, the next she's fighting alongside Draxum. It defies logic."

Mikey probed deeper. "Is it her unpredictability that bothers you?"

Donnie's pace slowed, his feet heavy with emotion. "It's not just that. She seems to... care, sometimes. Even though she says mean things. But then she abandons us. No rational explanation, no warning. It's like she's torn between loyalties." His voice trailed off, perplexity etched on his face.

"I think she's unsure, not evil," Mikey said, adjusting his fake glasses. Donnie paused, then continued to his lab, Mikey following.

"Are you saying she has no other choice?" Donnie asked, breaking the silence.

Mikey nodded. "Maybe. But why are you so invested in her, Donnie? Do you even know much about her?" He asked gently.

Donnie's response came swiftly, his tone bordering on vulnerability. "Her name is Shoku."

Mikey's eyes narrowed slightly. "And that's all you know?" He probed, curiosity getting the better of him.

Donnie's hesitation spoke volumes.

They arrived at Donnie's lab, his three fingers flying across the keypad. The doors slid open with a soft hiss, and the brothers stepped inside.

Donnie's focus shifted to his work, fingers dancing across the console. Mikey, however, remained fixated on his brother.