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The first time Raph saw Donny in person since that terrifying and hectic encounter on the USS Nevada, he'd been distracted by his worry over Mrs. M. Don was also wearing one of those baggy jumpsuits with a zillion pockets he liked to wear if he wasn't wearing a uniform, so it was impossible to make out more than the basic shape of his brother's body.
The second time Raph saw him, Donny was shirtless and it had taken everything in him not to react to how gaunt his brother looked. He looked like he was still sick, not several months recovered. When Don got dressed to play in the lab, he was wearing the jumpsuit again. Either that or an identical one, but Raph wasn't holding his breath that Donny had changed his habits that much in the past couple months.
Then the third time just hammered it home that Donny was different. His brother had gone through hell and come out the other end changed. Still distinctly Donatello, but…well, before his brother got sick, Raph wouldn't have felt so awkward offering to open a panel Don was having trouble with. Before, he might have even played it up by flexing his arms to get a laugh and rolled eyes from Donny.
Now, he just felt bad proving he was still strong and healthy, while Don…wasn't.
While he had never been the most physically imposing of the four, Donny had eventually matched Raph in height around the time they hit seventeen. But now his weight was no longer proportional to that height. Now he looked stretched out, thin, and worn. And now it was undeniable that his strength had gone the way of his muscle mass.
Donny had looked surprised, then ashamed, then resigned to the state of his own body.
When Raph offered to let Don join him in his holodeck training program, he hadn't really expected his brother to agree. But when Don did, he had been kind of excited, and Donny had looked it too. Exercise wasn't something they were usually able to bond over.
Now Donny's medical leave had ended and Doc Leatherhead had cleared him for light physical activity. What that actually meant, Don was skimming through the doctor's instructions trying to figure out.
But what it meant for Raph was that there was finally something he could do to help his brother after months of feeling helpless.
Sitting on the weight bench in a tank top and old Starfleet Academy workout shorts, Raph adjusted the wrist support on his workout gloves and watched Don. Donny was skimming through the doctor's instructions on his PADD. Dark grey sweatpants and a baggy purple sweatshit Mike had probably bullied him into hung loose on his frame. Raph had almost expected Donny to show up in uniform or another jumpsuit, hoping that his brother would at least think to wear appropriate workout shoes instead of boots.
From the neon purple color of the sneakers Don was wearing, Raph assumed Mike was responsible for those too.
Don was sitting cross-legged on the thick mat floor of the training program, hunched over his PADD like if he contorted himself enough it would make more sense. The way the collar of his sweatshirt fell, Raph could clearly see the prominent collarbones above his plastron. Whenever Donny moved his hands, his sleeves slipped down to reveal how bony his wrists had gotten.
Honestly, it scared him a little. As if Don hadn't already survived the worst of it, like he was still in danger.
"You uh, forget how t' read there, Donny?" Raph asked.
Don looked up and grimaced at him. "No offense to him, but I don't think Dr. Leatherhead works much in physical therapy. His instructions are…not very instructive. But I think I get the gist. Stretching, simple yoga, tai chi. Maybe weight lifting if I feel up to it, but I'm supposed to start at the lowest weight available and only go up a pound at a time. And no pushing myself. Obviously."
"Sounds simple enough," Raph said, clapping his hands and standing up. "If ya run outta steam before I'm done, you c'n spot me."
Leaning back a little to eye the weight Raph already had set up on the weight bench, Don raised a speculative eyebrow at him. "Pretty sure if I'm not supposed to push myself on the lowest weight, I won't be able to lift that if you drop it on yourself."
Raph rolled his eyes and offered his brother a hand up. "Doofus, ya just tell th' computer t' get rid of it."
Don blinked in surprise, then took his hand and blinked in surprise again when Raph easily pulled him to his feet. "Oh right."
Raph grinned teasingly. "You forget we're on the holodeck?"
"It looks just like the Academy's gym!" Don protested.
"It's s'posed to, that's what it's based on," Raph pointed out. "Anyway, we doin' this or what? Warm-up stretches?"
Don wrinkled his beak in distaste, but nodded. Raph snickered at his reaction and led him to an area with more space, away from the equipment.
"Computer, Workout Playlist number…three," Raph said, planting his feet and considering where to start. "Volume fifty percent."
Standing in front of him in preparation to mirror his movements, Don grinned teasingly and set aside his PADD. "You have three separate workout playlists?" he asked, while one of Raph's more easy-going punk playlists started playing.
"Nah," Raph replied, then paused a second before grinning. "I got twelve. Just be grateful I picked one that doesn't have any Klingon death metal or acid punk."
Don made a face at him and Raph just laughed. "I don't think I'll ever understand how you can listen to that noise," Donny said.
"An' I don't get what you an' Leo get outta that flute crap ya listen to."
"No appreciation for the classics," Donny said, shaking his head in faux dismay.
"Hey, 'Qapla'qoq' is a classic, it's just a Klingon classic," Raph replied, pointing at him. "Don't be xenophobic."
Don gasped in mock offense, a hand pressed to his chest. He was only able to hold the expression for a moment, while Raph's mouth twitched, before they both burst out laughing. He slung an arm over Donny's shoulder and they both leaned on each other while they laughed, though Raph tried to take most of their combined weight without making it obvious.
As their laughs petered out, Raph gave his brother a jostle and gently shoved him upright. "A'right, Giggles, let's get started. You good with the usual routine we do with Sensei?"
Don wiped at his eyes, grinning, and nodded. "Yeah, that sounds fine."
To the opening beats of "Should I Stay or Should I Go" by The Clash, Raph led them through the standard warm-up stretches they grew up doing. At this point, they were almost muscle memory. Raph easily fell into the familiar movements and Donny slowly mirrored him. It was meditative, in a way.
Then Don wobbled.
Raph instinctively reached out to steady him, but Donny swatted his hand away with a scowl and dropped his raised leg to steady himself.
"I've got it," he said irritably.
That was another difference Raph had noticed since his brother was returned to them. Donny, famously the hardest of the four of them to rile up, seemed to have a noticeably shorter temper. Definitely nothing like Raph's own, but he definitely had a shorter fuse than before he fell ill. Raph wasn't sure if it was one of those "new normal" things Mike told them to be patient with, or if Don was just running a low-grade temper along with his low-grade fever and it would go away once all the stressors and irritants died down.
"You wanna do some seated stretches?" Raph offered dryly.
Don narrowed his eyes at him for a moment, then threw his head back. "Yes," he groaned with reluctant exasperation.
They both sat and Raph started leading them through a set of easy stretches Master Splinter would have them do if they were sick or injured. Neither of them mentioned it, though from the faint blush on Don's cheeks he was embarrassed by it. Raph just kept going as if it was a perfectly normal part of his usual workout routine.
"Hey, somethin' I've been wonderin'," he spoke up, leaning over his knee and grabbing his ankle.
"Yeah?" Don replied uncertainly.
Not looking up from his leg, Raph asked, "How th' hell was that whole…evil scheme with the virus s'posed ta work? Like how'd Bishop an' Stockman expect you ta catch it? I thought reptiloids were immune?"
"Oh! So it turns out the supposed immunity wasn't tied to species, it was based on temperature."
Raph sat up and raised an eyebrow at his brother. "Yer gonna have to fill in a few more blanks fer me, Don."
"The virus only works at certain temperatures," Don clarified. "So likely everyone on the station technically caught it, it just didn't activate in anyone with a lower baseline body temperature. Since most reptiloids are cold-blooded, or at least run several degrees cooler than most mammals, it gave the impression of immunity."
Raph's eyes widened as he suddenly made the connection. "But you got a fever."
Nodding solemnly, Don agreed, "I was running a fever when I left Utopia Planitia and I still had it when I got to Starbase Manhattan. And I'd been taking immunosuppressants for months."
"Yeah, ya mentioned somethin' about that," Raph said slowly, scratching his cheek. "What's that mean? The immuno-whatsit."
Donny gave him a wry smile. "It's exactly what it says on the tin, Raph: they suppress your immune system. And I was on a double dose. Which also made it hard to keep food down, so my body's suffering some minor malnutrition. And that also weakened my immune system."
"Wait, so…?"
Don nodded again. "I was primed and ready to catch Stockman's virus as soon as I got here. If I'd gotten here when it was circulating through the ventilation system, I would've gotten sick immediately. Possibly worse than everyone else."
"That…is one hell of a bullet you dodged," Raph murmured, feeling a little sick.
"The whole station dodged the bullet," Don said grimly, turning away to focus on stretching his leg. "Dr. Leatherhead suspects if I'd caught it, my temperature might have fluctuated enough to teach the virus how to activate at lower core temperatures."
"Meanin' everyone woulda gotten sick."
Don glanced up and caught his eye. "Including the Triceratons. And if we were really unlucky, we might not have noticed and quarantined before some of them visited Tricera Prime."
Horrified, Raph just stared at him. Don grimaced in acknowledgement.
"Hell of a way ta wreck any chance of 'em joinin' the Federation," Raph whispered. "We'd've been lucky if they didn't straight-up declare war."
Don sat up and spread his hands. "The short-sightedness of 'revenge'."
"Or maybe that's exactly what Bishop wanted, an excuse to fight more reptiloids," Raph said darkly.
"What an asshole," Don replied.
Raph snorted in amusement. "Understatement. Hope Mike's havin' fun tearin' Starfleet a new one fer givin' him so much power."
"Speaking of Mikey," Don said with a sly smile. "I put in my bet for when Dr. Leatherhead would convince him to go for the nursing certification."
Raph grinned back. "Oh yeah? What'd ya bet?"
"No-questions-asked non-standard adjustment to any equipment in your quarters if one of you win." Don shifted his legs and leaned down until his forehead was touching the floor, voice slightly muffled and strained as he added, "Best Man speech at Leo's wedding if I win."
Sputtering, Raph threw his head back and barked a laugh. "Damn, wish I'd thought of that. What about me? What'd ya want from me if ya win?"
Don sat up, and with a twinkle in his eye he deadpanned, "Personal training sessions until I'm back in shape."
Staring at his brother for a moment as he processed Don's words, Raph burst out, "Bro!" Then he started laughing so hard he fell over. Tears from the laughter blurred his vision, but he could hear Donny snickering along with him.
When he finally calmed down and wiped his eyes, Raph grinned up at Don and asked, "You that confident?"
"You two may have been around Mikey regularly the past few months, but I've been sharing quarters and working closely with him and Dr. Leatherhead on the virus situation. I feel I've observed what I needed to of their interactions to extrapolate a reasonable timeline."
"Man, I still can't believe ya uncovered an' solved a conspiracy yer first week here," Raph said, sitting up and shaking his head. "Whatcha gonna do fer an encore?"
Don grimaced, stretching an arm across his chest and holding it in in place with the inner elbow of his other arm hooked under it. "Hopefully just study things in the lab."
Raph grinned at him. "That ain't how turtle luck works, bro. You know that."
"Let me at least pretend for a little!"
Raph snickered at him and they continued in silence for a while, the only sound coming from his playlist. As they moved on to some easy, seated yoga poses, the music picked up with the heavier beat of a song from qIj joqwI'.
Don cocked his head, listening, and frowned. "This is absolutely Klingon, Raph."
"I said no acid punk, nothin' 'bout regular punk." Raph grinned at him. "S'even one of their tamer songs."
Rolling his eyes, Don shook his head and followed him into the next pose. They flowed through a few more poses in comfortable silence. Raph pretended not to notice that Donny was already covered in sweat while his own forehead wasn't even damp yet.
"Hey Raph?" Donny said quietly.
"Yeah?"
"I don't think I ever thanked you for that blanket you sent me." Don glanced over at him, shoulders hunching a little. "While I was in Starfleet Medical?"
"Yeah?" Raph shrugged. "Mike said it was kinda cold there. Infirmary blankets're never warm enough fer us, figured you could use an extra."
Don chuckled mirthlessly. "I really, really did." He looked away and cleared his throat. "It uh…helped remind me. That I was a person. That I had family. I…needed that, sometimes."
Unable to speak around the sudden lump in his throat, Raph reached over and gripped his brother's shoulder. Giving him a gentle squeeze and jostle, he nodded and tried to subtly cough away the blockage.
"Plus it's really soft," Don added, taking pity on them both.
Raph huffed a laugh and grinned at him. "I know how picky ya are about textures," he said roughly.
Returning the grin, Donny shoved him away and lifted the hem of his sweatshirt to wipe his face. He sighed tiredly as he let the sweatshirt fall back into place. "How long have we been at this? And how much more did you have planned?"
"Ya really wanna know?" Raph asked, raising an eyebrow to suggest Don wouldn't like the answer.
Donny stared at him a minute, mouth a flat line, then he hung his head and groaned in dismay. "No."
"Ya wanna take a minute t' stare at the ceiling an' imagine Stockman explodin' in a tragic lab accident?"
"God yes," Donny blurted emphatically, letting himself fall onto his back.
Raph chuckled and flopped down next to him. "Take yer time, bro."
After a minute, Don reached over to hook their pinkies together and whispered, "Thanks, Raphy."
Smiling and closing his eyes, Raph gave the finger a squeeze. "Any time, Donny."