Pre-enlightened goose

Sterile white walls, sparse employees as the hospital settles into the comfortable drone of the night shift. I stare at the digital clock on the wall. Bright, confrontational red letters burned into a void of black. I wait for the next minute to turn, and it doesn’t.

He walks up next to me, quiet, vague nervousness of someone out of their depth and with nothing to say.

“What are you thinking?”

I expect that he may want something profound. Something with heavy meaning in the middle of this emotional chaos, and yet I have nothing.

I wait for the minute to pass. It does not.

“It’s been 10 minutes.” I tell him. I feel him shift next to me, glancing, as a hand comes to sit on my shoulder.

It’s moments like these, I suppose, when you expect the world to stop. For some meaning to reveal itself in the stillness of shock and alarm.

But nothing stops. The minute finally turns. The nurses and doctors chat and even laugh down the hall.

It's beautiful and I would die of happiness if you allowed to share it with other people 👉👈

Quick warning for blood my guys.

This fic is seriously probably most well written rottmnt fics I’ve ever read. The details, the dialogue, the energy is all insanely well done and it was an absolute pleasure to read. The most recent update shook me to the core with the implications.

Also thank you @algrit for teaching me how to draw blood splatter! Of course you’d know how to do it you heinous creature.

He fights the urge to nudge Leo awake and furiously spill the thoughts that trickle through his head. He wants to document this, to organize it, put it in his huge amalgamation of data and bask in the knowledge. More than that, more than his curious little mind, Donnie wishes he didn’t have to leave them. His dum-dum brothers have never lived without him, how will they cope? How will they manage all the responsibilities he’s piled on his plate?

He knows they’ll be okay, no, not because facts, but because they have to be, because he will kill god if he messes with Donnies fucking family.

Donnie wishes he could somehow record what it feels like to die.

It’s like nothing he’s ever experienced, like a gentle numbness that seeps over his limbs, like he’s floating away from his body. Its been tingling through his muscles through the past couple days as he pushes out the last dregs of his energy.

He knows this is it. By his estimates, he’s got five minutes.

Five minutes.

A geniuses mind reduced to the most merciless limit of them all, time. All he’s created, all he’s killed, all he’s loved and hated, just… soon to be gone. The inventions, the mechanics and projects, they will be all that’s left of him.

Four minutes.

When he’s gone, dead, and his body is just a worthless piece of machinery with no functioning computer, all will be left is the words he’s told his brothers, April, Casey, his assistants and rebellion members. He will be the impression he left on them.

Three minutes.

And what even was that impression? The narcissistic, self-centered and cold engineer, hiding away in his lab? He tries not to think that way, to let his demons win in his last minutes. No. Who matters is the people who love him, who will remember him as level-headed, selfless and calm.

Two minutes.

Leo matters, all muscle and determination, Mikey, burning with mystic power, Raph, a powerful heart despite no longer having one. April, focused and stubborn and beautifully impatient. And Casey, the future of them all.

One minute.

What impression did he leave with them? What will he continue to say when he’s gone, speaking through jars of honey and prosthetics, age-reversing formulas and scarred hands? He knows what he hopes he says, but if he’s learned anything, its never that simple.

He hopes it says I love you.

What more is there to say than that?

To the wonderful @somerandomdudelmao who ripped out my heart and stomped on it in the best way possible.

No.

Am I gonna write it anyway?