A/N: The turtles' eyes have been changed to what my headcanon is. You can image it however you like, but this is how I think of them. Don's eyes would be grey, Leo's are brown, Raph's are yellow, and Mikey's are blue. The text that is italized and bolded is what Donnie sees. Also, this might seem really off, I haven't written anything in a while, but I definitely plan to finish this.. hopefully. On a side note, has anyone else have troubles with Raph's accent? Also, does anyone else know why Don is such a hard perspective to write in? SAINW was an inspiring episode and thus this was born.

"My brothers. My poor brothers. This world. This future. It's a nightmare." -Donatello, S03E21, Same As It Never Was.

The problem was, Donnie was dieing.

They could see it in his eyes, all the time, but they never really spoke out of it. They figured he'd come out in time, not to mention they were too wrapped up in how their own dimensions went. He had brushed it off when they asked, safe and sound in their sewer, all crowding around each other, speaking with each other of their journeys, not noticing the pained looks that Donatello was giving them. Of course, they hadn't noticed, not then. It was Donny; he was just being his distant self, probably recollecting his thoughts.

Don watched his brothers thoughtfully, wanting to reach out and feel them, to make sure that this was real, that it wouldn't suddenly shift to the horrible future he had foreseen. He wanted to feel Mikey's arm, to look into Raph's eyes, for Leo to say how he liked the color of something. Just to stabilize the fact that they were real, and not disabled in any way.

Don blinked away unshed tears, and the horrendous images seemed to creep up along his thoughts, and he cast his gaze away from his brothers, almost willing for them to ask about how his journey went, how he coped, if he was alright, if anything happened. That sort of thing. He sort of relied on them to question him, to crack him open, because he simply couldn't do it himself; couldn't just open up like that.

"Like, dude, Donnie, you're spacing out on us. Turtle Titan to Donnie, you still there, bro?" Mikey's three-fingered hand flew in front of Don's face, causing the purple branded terrapin to mentally stumble over his own thoughts. His grey eyes looked up into Mikey's blue ones, and he couldn't help but tilt his head ever so slightly.

"Yeah, Mikey.. I.. I'm just thinking about this new invention, that can.. can generate coffee at the press of a button," he mustered up, his eyes dark, gloomy, and... well, haunted look that nearly startled Mikey out of his shell.

"Hey bro, ya know we're here for ya bro, right?" Mikey chimed, his face brightening up with a false cheerfulness, his smile never reaching his eyes as Don just looked at him gloomily. "Ya can tell us anything."

Donatello forced a smile that seemed to crack his mental stability, and he winced slightly like it pained him to even manage a small grin. "Yeah, Mikey, I know. Don't worry about me, I'm fine." He forced himself to keep eye contact, but found his gaze wavering as he did so. "This invention has been eating away at my brain since I came back from.. from the other dimension. I was a supergenius, have to be at the top of my game, right? Even have to beat my alternate self."

Mikey's eyes lit up as he absorbed this false explanation and nodded, as if it explained everything. "I hear ya bro, it's like beating your own highscore right?" He grinned, and turned his baby blue eyes to their older brothers, as they bickered over Master-Splinter-knows-what. Don watched them with a serious expression, shivering subconsciously.

"What happened to Leo and Raph?"
"Let's just say they got in a big fight a long time ago..."

The olive terrapin frowned, his shaky breathing falling on deaf ears as he looked at them. And for a split moment, everything just seemed phase out and in their place stood their thirty year old versions of themselves, alive but still horribly disfigured. He could still see Leo, without his trademark blue bandana and his scarred face, and black shades, the heavy trenchcoat making him look bulkier. His gloved hands waving frantically in front of his face as he explained to Raph about his journey or something of the like. Raph was wearing his coat, the brown fabric standing out against his emerald skin, his hands were rough padded, as Don could vagualy remember, but alas he wore gloves also. The eye of which Don could see, was the one that was sewn shut.

The third youngest's breathing grew labored as he watched it unfold, and knew that in a heartbeat they would be having their big fight.

"Seriously, Raph, we have to look for Don. I won't... we shouldn't stop until he is found."

Raph's laughter was a bark, his yellow eyes serious and narrowed dangerously. His hands clenched into fists, "So the great Fearless Leader ain't gonna ups on Donnie? 'Cept it, Leo, Donnie is as good as dead. There can be nothin' that will bring him back."

"Not until I see for myself that he's dead, Raphael." The full-name. Never a good sign. Leo had spoken it in the I'm-the-leader-so-you-better-listen-to-me tone which would have unnerved Donatello to no end. And to know that they were fighting over him, simply filled him with dread. "Not until I search for his pulse, don't find it, will I give up."

"Yer fightin' a lost cause, Fearless," Raphael snarled, his breathing coming out jagged as he took threatening steps forward and stared into Leo's cloudy brown eyes, the paleness in them obvious, as well as the blindness. "'Cause that Donnie.. he ain't never gonna be here again. He ain't never comin' back."

Don's breath hitched, not for the first time, and he blinked slowly, his eyes wavering ever so slightly. Crap. They were fighting over him, and he shivered subconsciously. He swayed on the spot, drawing up a three-fingered hand to his face as if that single motion would stop him from falling over, but as if some magic force have commanded it, he steadied himself, his right grey eye peeking through his right hand, mumbling something that sounded like, "You got to be kidding me."

Mikey looked over at him, a question looming in his robin eyes, curiousity and for a moment, a fleeting seriousness crept across his face as he watched Donnie closely, the orange masked terrapin looked as if the world was resting on his shoulder just because Donatello was feeling woosy. "The Turtle Titan commands that you take a rest," he muttered, finally, his voice deprived of all cheerfulness and was replaced with a dead seriousness that didn't seem like it was Mikey at all. The purple clad turtle looked in amazement at Mikey, slowly lowering his hand and arching an eyeridge. Mikey's face turned a slight pink, which in fact looked odd with the green but was pleasant nonetheless after Don got used to it, as he realized what he had just said. "I mean, really, dude, you're like falling asleep on me. That just won't do, 'cause I need to fix my Silver Sentry action figure. His head like, popped off."

Don snickered, covering his mouth with his hand as he tried to think of a suitable response without giggling like a girl. "Of course, something needs fixing," he finally muttered, blinking warmly at his brother, his smile finally reaching his eyes. But as Mikey looked at him, he couldn't help but feel as though Don was holding something bad, by the way he smiled in such a way, the way his eyes were dark but filled with a possibly false cheerfullness.. His eyes hollow but impossibly bright like they've always been, but something was missing, like he had seen too much and was withholding it.. It was the look of a veteran after returning from war. And he didn't like that look, not one bit.

"Hey, dude. You're like.. dead," Mikey spoke with an obvious playfulness, but the words pulled a string at Don's heart and caused Mikey's immediate older brother to stumble back in surprise. "You've been distant this whole time, dude, you didn't even ask how my Silver Sentry was broken." Mikey's grin was contagious as Don soon found out, but the dread was already settling into his chest like a dead weight. Dead. That single word played many things through his mind. Dead was the bug that Raph squished. Dead was the mouse that Don nursed but was later killed by Klunk. Dead was his future. Dead was his brothers that were and weren't his brothers. Dead was Casey. Dead was Leo, Raph, Mikey. Dead was the world that had so much wound it's way into Don's head, and dead was the words that his dead brother's couldn't say. Mikey's smile faltered as Don's grin became a grimace, and Mikey's worry increased. "Dude?"

"It's nothing, Mikey. I'm fine," was all that Don could muster out, his throat uncannily dry and felt like parchment as he tried to swallow. His palms began to sweat, and he made a slight choking sound in the back of his throat. His grey eyes widened drastically as he struggled to perform the simple enough action as breathing, his breath coming in short gasps. His lungs burned, and he could swear that he tasted soot on his tongue. "There's nothing to worry about.. I'm fine."

"Donnie?" Mikey's reply was hesitant, worry creasing lines on his youthful face. Donatello scolded himself, Keep it together Donatello, he's still Mikey, he's still young. He's still aliv-.. No, thinking about it will make it real, it can't be real. Besides, Mikey's here. In front of me. With his arm. Nothing's changed. Think rationally, Donnie, nothing's changed. Nothing. Okay, I may be possibly suffering from a relapse. Nothing to worry about. Everything's okay. Nothing's changed. Except.... "Donnie? You still alive in there?"

"So, the turtle with the big brain finally doesn't have all the answers. Who'da thunk it?" Donatello lurched backwards, his breath being stolen fcrom his lungs, his eyes widening. This can't be happening, Don's brain screamed at him. This isn't possible. Relapse. It's a relapse. Nothing to worry about. You're still sane... right? But alas, in front of him Mikey was gradually changing, his eyes growing colder, and his smile growing thinner and slowly turning downwards, his bandana seeming to appear to be growing upon itself, creating a near full-headed head accesory. Wounds caressed Mikey's sea green skin, before peeling away to reveal scars. His arm was bloody. His arm was bloody and there was blood everywhere. Blood was everywhere, his arm squirming of it's own accord like worms were wiggling around inside. His arm popped off, just a clean pop and then Mikey was talking. Mikey was talking and blood was pouring out of his mouth and Donnie could hear him cry, "Donnie! Donnie, I'm-!" Before blood pooled from an open chest wound and Mikey was still talking. Mikey was still talking, and he was moving towards him, his last arm reaching out. "Donnie. Donnie, I'm-.." His voice was thick with blood and age, "Donnie... I'm..." Mikey's blue eyes stared up at him. "I'm..." Relapsing. "...onnie... ...'m... nnie..." Oh shell, Mikey was still trying to talk to him. And the ruins of the sewer around them caused Donnie to cringe as Mikey continued to reach out to him, the realization that this was happening again. "...nie.. I.." Then Mikey opened his mouth wide and cried out, but Donnie couldn't hear him because- "Donnie? Donnie! Are you okay? Dude, what's going on?" - blood was pouring out in large amounts. Then blood was squirting at everything, it was in Donnie's eyes and in his mouth and nose and Mikey was still moving and Donnie couldn't take it, there was blood everywhere and, oh shell, Mikey was dying again and-

"Donnie? Dude? Donnie, I- oh shell, are you okay? You look like you're gonna.. Donnie?" Donatello reeled back, hands grasping at the an invisible force, a cry of anguish ripping from his throat as he fell. Then he knew he was stumbling, clawing away the hands that tried to steady him, the blue eyes that batted up at him, and the fear running through his younger brother's face as he watched his brother freak out. Don fell hard on his shell, taking Mikey down with him, and then Donnie was crying, but no tears would come out, only a muffled sound.

Crying and yelling out -as best as he could, because his throat was suddenly incredibly sore- how sorry he was, how terribly sorry and how he didn't mean to do it. His voice quiet and hoarse with tiredness, his vocal cries only heard by the sea green turtle in front of him. He was trying hard to swat Mikey's hands away, and he could still taste the blood, and can feel it everywhere on him. He could feel the pain of seeing his brothers die in front of him, and it was killing him, knowing that their deaths was his fault, that he let them die. Mikey, poor Mikey, was calling out to Donnie as he was being slaughtered by the Karai bots, and then Mikey was holding him and telling him that everything was okay.

"Donnie, everything's okay, dude," Mikey's voice penetrated through Don's thick cloud of thoughts. Don continued to tremble, his mouth uttering hoarse apologies, his tongue feeling thick and heavy like cement and he could still taste the blood. "Dude, calm down. I'm here. What are you apologizing for? There's nothing to be sorry for. I broke my own action figure, you didn't do it. Wait, did you?" Don's heart broke, and sniffled, coughing weakly. He forced a smile. Of course. Mikey wouldn't understand, no, of course not, he wasn't there. None of them were. He swallowed painfully, but the cool refreshing sensation of swallowing didn't come. Instead it caused him to break into a coughing fit, that actually only lasted a good thirty seconds. Mikey only thought that he broke his Silver Sentry toy. Only that. Why was Donnie blubbering anyways?

Because Donnie wasn't allowed to blubber. He never was allowed to, of course not. Because he was Donnie, because he was in control. Because.. you killed your brothers. The thought came unexpected and with a jolt, nearly causing him to cry out with anguish. Because it was his fault. His fault that they all died. They died because of you. But they depended on him. You don't deserve their help. When did he start referring to himself in third person? Because you let them die. But they were still alive, still breathing, and Mikey was comforting him. You. Don't. Need. Help. Then Donnie was calming his breathing, because he could do this without them. They don't need to know. Because it's your burden to bear. You did it. No! he wanted to scream back, but the words wouldn't come, and if he did then Mikey would try to find out why else Donnie might be blubbering like he was, if he hadn't been apologizing to them. You were supposed to fight like a family. But yet you let them down. Seriously, what is wrong with you? Donnie closed his eyes. You abandoned them. He took a shaky breath, and mouthed silently, as he closed his eyes. I know..

"Donnie?"

Donnie looked up, hesitantly, his grey eyes unseeing for a moment, his breath coming out jaggedy until he stilled it. "Yeah, Mikey, I'm fine.. I was just... worried how you'd react when I said I broke your Xbox360." Mikey's eyes widened dramatically as he took a sharp intake of breath, horror dawning in his eyes. Before Mikey could say anything, Donnie rushed on, "But I.. fixed it. Honest!"

No, you didn't fix it. Because you didn't break it in the first place.

When did he start talking to himself anyways?

"I.. also broke your game."

No, you lost it. Somewhere. Can't deny it to me.

Mikey studied Donatello for a moment, his blue eyes narrowing as he took a shaky breath, "Your right to be worried dude. Was it Halo 3?" Don grimaced and nodded. "Geez, Don, that's like, my favorite game. Actually, no, it's not. We can just buy it from the game store or something. No need to freak over it." Mikey grinned before saying, softly. "Hey, dude, you can still fix my Sentry though, right?"

The purple masked terrapin winced before smiling as best as he could. "Of course," he answered, his voice falsely confident. He could easily take apart before putting the TV back together, when he was around five, so sure, it wouldn't be a problem. Mr. Fix It can do it. If he can't, no one can. But that wasn't a very comforting thought.. because he handn't been able to save his brothers. He probably never could. That caused him to choke slightly, and almost made him want to cry. But he couldn't. Because he was Donatello. He was the most levelheaded, he was in control. He would be the leader probably if Leo wasn't. He can take care of his brothers easily. But one thing that Don did not do was cry. Because crying was the first sign of falling apart.

It was only day one, and Don very much, wanted to fall apart.