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It isn’t that Donnie feels he’s useless. He knows he isn’t. It’s just that he has to keep it that way. And, god, he has so much to do.
First, his battle shell designs. He didn't like how it was able to be destroyed by the Krang. So he's been working on a new design: stronger materials and more accessories to help him escape from vulnerable situations. He's also playing with the idea of making battle shells for his brothers. That would be much easier than his own, as it would just work as an outer layer to protect the already existing hard shell.
Next, the Turtle Tank. That needs general repairs and also some slight alterations.
And more weapons. Sure, they have their mystic magic and can be powerful with even gardening tools, but it never hurts to have good tech on their side as well.
Basically, he's working on any and everything to keep himself and his family safe. That's how he can be useful right now.
It's 10 PM and Donnie is on his tenth cup of coffee for the day. He thinks. He can't remember. He can't remember anything except what's important: science. He's working on all these different designs in the laboratory and it's going painfully slow. But he'll get it done. He has to get it done.
He had just spilled coffee on a blueprint when, suddenly, there's a loud crash and he turns his head to find a smiling Leo in the middle of pile of spilled contents from one of his toolboxes. He groans and simply turns back around. Leo jumps into the spinny chair next to Donnie's desk.
"Hey, Don-Don!"
"Hey, Leon-on ..." Donnie squints. "That was objectively bad."
"Yup!" Leo spins in his chair, making Donnie wince as he monitors his brother to insure he doesn't cause anymore damage to the healing injuries littered along his body. "You only make pathetic responses to my witty dialogue when somethin is up. What's up?"
Donnie tilts his head. Sometimes, he forgets how well Leo is able to analyze his every action. Mostly because it's something he has difficulty picking up on. Not because he doesn't try, but because he struggles with deciphering when others are putting up a façade. So, he assumes his own lazy façades will work, but they rarely do. Still, he shrugs and says, "Just tired."
"Of course. Always are. It's like you sharpie on eyebags along with those brows." Leo leans forward to touch Donnie's infamous, drawn-on eyebrows before hesitating and leaning back. "You've been getting less sleep though. Why?"
"What makes you think that? I'm at my normal insomniac levels of sleep time."
"Alright." Leo hops up from the chair and does a quick, cocky spin before landing in a firm fighting stance and raising his fists.
Donnie sighs and buries his face in his palm. "Calm down, Nardo."
"C'mon, D! Come at me, bro!"
"What are you doing?"
"Fight me!" Leo starts to bounce, one foot at a time, and punches the air in front of him while inching closer to Donnie. "When was the last time we trained together, huh? Had a lil' brawl?"
"Leon, stop!" Donnie was getting frustrated now, his voice gaining a low growl. "You shouldn't be doing such sharp movements with your healing injuries."
"What injuries?"
"Oh, you are so not funny!" He's had it now. He shoots up from his chair and takes a few steps towards his stubborn brother before it hits him: the exhaustion. His knees buckle. For a moment, his head is flooded with a fog so thick he can't think at all. He places a palm against his forehead and begins to stumble back before Leo lunges forward and grabs both his arms.
"Hey, hey, c'mon." Leo says, softly, while guiding his brother down. They both wince as their legs make contact with the cold floor. "There ya go."
"Not cool, Leo." Donnie grumbles, staring at the floor. He tries to act angry, like he can't even look at his brother. But, really, he just doesn't want to see that look on his face. That worried look he gets when he knows something is wrong. The worst look to get from a brother.
Leo laughs. "Yeah, I know. Won't do that again. Wasn't the safest choice for either of us. I'm not sorry, though." He rubs his knee, which is now throbbing, before crossing his legs. His brother mimics his pose, which makes him smile for some reason. He looks to see if Donnie sees this smile, but the other turtle is still staring down at the floor. Leo bites his bottom lip and clicks his tongue before saying, "Look, D. Hey, can you look at me?"
Donnie shakes his head. No, he can't. He really, really can't.
"Okay." Leo nods. "You don't need to, if it's easier not to. Uh, I know you don't like to talk about it. You never like to talk about these things and I know it's worse this time because you weren't the only one hurt. You don't want to bother us with your feelings when we're feeling our own stuff, right?"
Donnie nods at the floor. He scoots over a bit, so their knees are touching. Leo smiles because he knows that means his brother is listening with an open heart.
"Well," Leo continues, hesitating for a moment but eventually spitting it out. "That's bullshit! For a smart guy, you're being really stupid. Dumb, even. Idiotic! You're acting like me!"
"Uh, ouch." Donnie finally looks up at his brother with squinted eyes. "Was this all just an excuse to insult me?
"No, but that's a bonus. The point is, we're your brothers. When one of us hurts, we all hurt. Why try to hide it? We're gonna notice. We're gonna care. It doesn't matter if you stay hauled up in this lab all day and night. We'll keep bothering you. We're too annoying not to. So will you please just stop?"
Despite these slightly harsh words, Leo looks at Donnie with the softest look imaginable. A softness so welcoming Donnie is envisioning warm pillows and fluffy mattresses and all of Raph's teddy bears. God, he's so tired.
"D?' Leo waves his hands in Donnie's face and Donnie realizes he has completely zoned out. "You there?"
"Hm? Yeah. M' here."
"Did you hear any of that?"
"Yup, all of it." And it isn't a lie.
"Okay. Uh, hey, you get your sleepy butt some sleep and we'll talk about it in the morning." Leo grunts as he pushes himself up from the floor. He starts to walk away, but lingers for a while.
"Hey, uh," Donnie thinks for a moment, opens his mouth, closes it, shakes his head, then just says what's on his mind. "Wanna ... uh, sleep over?"
Leo's face lights up so bright the sun must be jealous. "Omigosh! We haven't had a sleepover in ages. You love me again!"
"Shut up before I change my mind." Donnie rolls his eyes, but he's smiling. "Grab the blankets and pillows from my bed. Ignore the mess."
Leo does a quick salute, which Donnie shakes his head at, before rushing off to Donnie's room.
Donnie sits there, eyes glazing over, thinking. Despite all Leo just told him, he keeps thinking I shouldn't bother him with all this. Donnie has always considered himself the smart guy and that means he must be smart enough to figure out every single thing by himself. He has a wart on his foot? He'll figure it out. Look up possible causes, possible solutions, try every solution until something clicks. And no one has to know what's wrong. No one ever has to know anything is wrong. He'll hide all those different wart creams. He'll hide all the coffee he's drinking to stay up at night. He'll hide every shake he gets when he's scared. Every tear that starts to escape his eyes. Every emotion. No one needs to know because no one needs to solve it except for him. He'll figure it out. He always does. Eventually. But it just gets so fucking exhausting.
"PILLOW!" Leo announces his return by hurling a pillow at Donnie's face. "Woohoo, touchdown!"
"Even I know that's not the correct sports refernce, Nardo." Donnie groans.
He grabs the pillow, places it on the floor and plops his head down on it. Almost immediately, he starts to dose off. Leo throws his favorite blanket, a purple and black wool one, over him. Then, he places a pillow on his legs.
"Can I?" Leo says, asking for permission to lay on his brother's legs. Donnie grumbles something that resembles a "yes" and Leo beams before placing his head on the pillow, careful not to apply too much pressure. "I miss this."
"Me too."
"I miss you."
"What?"
But Leo doesn't respond. He's snoring, softly, and Donnie can't tell if it's faking it. He decides to let it go and, for the first time in ages, drifts into a peaceful sleep.