Hundred Years

Warnings: Hints at character death. Turtlecest, gay, incest.


Donatello had never thought they would be loved.

He knew his family loved him as much as he loved them; but he had never fooled himself with the idea that they might just find someone who would kiss them and hold them close.

Or let them hold their partner close.

He knew that there was no idea to search for someone that didn't pale at the sight of shells, green skin and three fingers.
April hadn't, of course. But April didn't look at them with the love Donatello wished at times to see. She was a big sister, a little like a surrogate mother.
It was the same kind of love which his brothers and father gave him.

Donatello, at times, wished that was enough. But at times it simply weren't.

Time passed on; they didn't age as fast.
Their lives slowed down to a non-existent creeping.

He watched Mikey fall in love with an alien female, soft eyes and quirked smile.
He watched his father grow frail, eyes growing blind.
He watched as wrinkles appeared on April's and Casey's faces.
He saw Raphael fall for their daughter.
He saw how Leonardo smiled a too soft smile at a friend from Usagi's dimension.
He even saw the day of the Foot's ultimate defeat.

Donatello saw many things.

But never did he see love reflected back at him, and that stung.
His brothers found someone.

Why didn't he?

Soon enough, there were only them again.
Aliens grew to be a normal thing, which meant they could walk the streets.
But they kept themselves underground, because the sewers somehow brought them comfort in a way that a warm apartment couldn't.

One day, Donatello saw Mikey and Leo kissing.

It was in the kitchen.
He had lingered in the doorway as he saw Leo stroke Mikey's cheek.
As he saw Mikey put down the cup of tea to kiss back.
As Mikey stroked the fabric of the blue headband Leonardo insisted on wearing.

Somehow, that was a relief.

Because it meant that Leo's sad eyes would go away, that Mikey's loud laughter might return.
Because it meant that maybe Donatello wouldn't be left alone.

And one day Raphael kissed Donatello.

He had been wrapping a bandage around his brother's thigh; had muttered under his breath about how even now, when there were no need to hide nor fight, that his brother was still a reckless idiot to go out there and fight aliens which were small and pointy with arms that acted like blades.

And Raphael had rolled his eyes.
Hesitated in mid-sentence, and Donatello had looked up.
Had wondered why his brother stopped teasing him.

Then there had been lips.

A hand tugged on the purple tie- long since replaced the purple headband -and Donatello let himself get closer. Let Raphael pull him closer.

He hadn't thought he would find love.
He hadn't thought any of them would.
He had thought he would be left behind.

But as he was surrounded by warmth and comfort, by something that wasn't scary at all, he felt happy. There was nothing to worry about right then.
Because Raphael kept him close.
Raph hugged him close, and he let Donatello hug back.

The wait had been worth it.