Work Text:
Hundreds of lines of code flashed across Donatello’s screen as he read, eyes combing each line meticulously. He had lost hours like this, scanning and filing and digging in the old dregs of his salvaged pc hard drive. It was dreary work, especially when he forced himself to step away after days spent like this with nothing to show for his search except a muddy brain and eye bags the size of small continents.
His brothers try not to bother him too much when he’s diving through the old computer again. If it was any of his other projects, they would try everything in their power to drag him away from the lab and into some kind of weird family activity. But it was the old computer. His old files. And as much as they hated to see him glue himself to the monitor and waste away for god-awful periods of time, they knew. They knew what he was searching for in those files.
At first, they were overbearing about it. “Donnie, you can’t just spend a day and a half with your face in the screen, no sleep, and five pots of coffee.” “I guess since you’re so busy I’ll just go look for that JJ comic you borrowed from me, which is indubitably in your bedroom right now…” “If you won’t get up now, I’ll drag you from that chair myself, mystic chains and all!” Of course he wanted to, but didn’t they understand why he couldn’t stop now? It was too important! And as much as he loved his brothers, he couldn’t stop himself from snapping and throwing them out of his lab.
After that, they learned to leave him alone.
That’s not to say they didn’t try and ease his pain. Mikey would slip in and hover behind his chair and say all soft and sad: “You need to move on, Dee. This kind of behavior is unhealthy for you. I miss him too, I really really do. But don’t hurt yourself like this. Please.” Leo would drape himself over his shoulders and sigh and say in a mournful voice: “How can you be sure the files saved? The lair was demolished, and it’s not like he just fell apart or got crushed.” Raph would sit behind him and lean his head against the chair back and say: “Please don’t obsess over this. It’ll only hurt you more.” Even Splinter and April came in with something to say. “He wouldn’t want you to do this,” and “Donatello, I understand how much his loss affects you; but sometimes we have to move on. It is good to look and try your best to find him, but when that search consumes you you cannot get closure. Trust me, my son.”
The fight with the Kraang was enough to finally draw him from his unrelenting stupor. Healing and rebuilding gave him something to do. So did the near loss of his brother. It was enough to shock him back to the reality that while he spends all his time here, he’s losing time with his family. How could he ever live with himself if Leo, his twin, died, and the last several months he had with him alive were spent apart--wasted?
Still, when the lull of work was less and the days were empty, Donnie found himself on the computer again, going through file after file, code after code. Some days, he got consumed by it again. Others he could step away by his own free will and not by passing out at the keyboard. His family would linger at the door or say something in passing, but they let him be.
A tired groan drew itself from his throat as he bypassed another section of corrupted memory. Each new section he found stressed him out to no end. What if the file he needed was there? What if it was lost now? What if that was all that remained of his most important creation, now nothing more than irreversibly damaged numbers and sequences?
Even having the hard drive was a miracle in and of itself. After Shredder had destroyed their first home, the Hamatos had all gone back to gather what they could and relocate. Most of them went to their rooms or picked up a few things from the open areas here and there. Some rooms were nothing but rubble and had to be dug through with Raph’s ninpo and a bit of assistance from Donnie’s. But Donnie went straight to the lab.
The lab had been a disaster zone. Everything was broken in some way shape or form. At first, he had tried to lift and move the rubble with his ninpo by himself, but using that much energy after an incredibly taxing fight and not having much experience with the mystic (as opposed to his brothers, who’d had practice with it for over a year now, scoff), he nearly blacked out. It took several days worth of digging to even find the main processing unit from his computer, and the whole body of it was wrecked beyond repair. Yet--by some stroke of luck--the hard drive was mostly undamaged. Of course; it would take more than the entire structural collapse of part of New York’s sewer system to take out his tech. Well… sort of.
So much of his time was spent digging through that rubble though--even after finding the hard drive. Sometimes he’d sneak back there during the middle of the night just to sit in the middle of what once was his lab and try to feel for him with his ninpo. His ninpo was connected to tech, right? Shouldn’t he feel something from him? April even tried to help him connect with his ninpo more. He still felt nothing.
Another corrupted segment. Donnie glared at the monitor.
Sure, he didn’t technically need to do this. He could start over. New code, new programs, all of it. He certainly remembered a lot of the key components to making the original. But could one perfectly replicate a personality? Wouldn’t that just be replacing him? It could walk and talk and move like he did, but it wouldn’t be him; just some copy pretending to be someone else. Besides, Leo’s tampering with his original code was so random and nonsensical he doubted he’d ever be able to repeat that process. And that tampering was what made Sh-him, him. Without it, he would never be the same in the first place.
Donnie couldn’t stop the whine that wrenched itself from him as he hit another corrupted patch. He shoved himself back from his desk, breathing hard, and buried his face in his hands.
He needed this! He needed to find him! He needed to know that there was something, just one tiny piece of him left! Anything! A recent system download, a scheduled upgrade, an older system backup, a familiar line of text, an old sequence, an original copy of the beginning program… anything! There had been plenty of system downloads and upgrades and backups--shell, they’d even done one just two days before Karai showed up and Shredder attacked! He knew there should be something on the old files left! Maybe not his whole personality, but some part of him preserved and hidden from the world in the hard drive. Any bit of him would work! Something must have survived. He didn’t care if he couldn’t rebuild him, he didn’t care if it would take forever, he just. Needed. Him.
There was something wet on his hands. He lifted his head and looked through hazy vision at his trembling fingers. It was on his face. Dripping on his legs. Donnie scrubbed at his eyes, vaguely realizing he was crying.
He just needed to get back to work.
Keep scanning.
Keep searching.
Then he would feel better.
Even if he never did find him, at least he would feel better knowing that he used all of his power to look through everything.
He scrubbed at the tears again--why weren’t they stopping? He needed to work!
Why was he getting emotional when he should be focusing?
Why couldn’t he do this?
Why wasn’t this working?
Why was it so hard to do something so important to him-
He looks up at the screen. A single word sits, unassuming, in the middle of the huge blocks of text forming intricate codes and systems but those blocks didn’t matter. Not with that word there, staring back at him.
Donnie?
He can’t breathe. All he sees are the tiny green letters, staring harmlessly back at him. He scoots back to the keyboard in what feels like slow-motion. He raises his hands to type but his fingers miss--he’s shaking--he’s shaking because this is it.
He’s found him.
Hi Shelldon.