Donnie has walked through his brother's time-gateway. Now, he is exactly twenty-two years before when he just came from. The only difference is, this place is safer than it was, or would have been. Hamato Donatello shall seek his long late family, and it will be nothing what you'll expect. (Or maybe it will be exactly what you expect, I'm not exactly psychic!)
2022 — Three weeks post-invasion|
Donatello walked through the portal, weary from what had just happened, his brother’s— erm— his katanas in hand as he shielded his face from the sudden brightness. He took a deep breath of fresh air that he forgot he was missing out on; he opened his eyes slowly, blinking as his eye adjusted to the sun— which he forgot the Earth had. He was on a roof-top, a familiar one, though he couldn’t quite place which one it was. After his eye fully adjusted, the purple-masked turtle saw that there were still Kraang parts scattered around the city that he had once been able to protect. What? What’s going on? I would have expected Casey Junior to succeed on his mission…
As Donnie looked closer with his mono-ggle, he realized that most of the Kraang matter had been deactivated, terminated, or contained at this point. “So,” Donnie said to himself, “while New York isn’t in its best state— haha, state; ‘Nardo would be proud of me for that one. Anyways, while NYC isn’t exactly looking its beeeessst… it’s still standing, and looking better than the one I came from.” He looked around gladly, and—“Oh, not again.” Donnie put the katanas back in their sheath so that he could untie his mask and wipe his eyes. “Dum-dum universe decide that the dum-dum explosion would only mess up my eyesight. Tch,” he said bitterly as he rung out his mask. He held his left wrist up to his mouth after he had re-tied the mask and ordered, “D-Tech, reset clock to the correct year, month, day, hour, minute, and second.”
There was a robotic ding and Donatello’s own pre-recorded voice responding,
“Reset time to: Year - 2022 | Month - May | Day - 10th | Hour - 16:39:25 seconds and counting |”
“Confirm change.” Another robotic ding confirming that the time had been saved. Donatello pressed a button to close the screen before looking out at the world around him; everything he had hoped for, dreamed for! but nothing he expected. “Honey-nut oatmeal and raisins, twenty-twenty-two……Shell, I’m old.” He looked back to the roof-top he had happened upon and wondered why it felt so familiar. “Well, I’m sure I’ll figure it out sooner or later,” Donnie said as he jumped down.
He looked around a bit more and then asked himself, what he thought was a very important question. “Soooooo, where to now? I’m here, I’m alive, and there’s no Kraang butt to kick. I have no brothers, sisters, sister-in-laws, nieces, ne…phews.” He thought for a second then, remembering how this world hadn’t met it’s end— at least, not yet— the same way as Donatello’s own world. “Hmmmm, I wonder…” He moved a bit more into the shadows of the ally-way he was in, remembering how much humans hated things they didn’t understand in this day and age.
He lifted his gauntlet up to where he could easily view it and type on it. The soft-shell pulled up his tracking file to see what he could see. “Well I’ll be a Kraang’s uncle. He’s actually here! Yes! Genius Built™️ tech never fails.” Right on the map, in the location of Donatello’s old home, before the Kraang attacked, was a blinking maroon dot shaped as Casey Junior’s face. “How did he find the old Lair!?” Donnie exclaimed to himself.
“Hmmm… It’s twenty-twenty-two, and-- what am I saying? Casey’s a smart kid, courtesy of me, of course. Also courtesy of me, he has Genius Built™️ technology, complete with a digital map, tracker, navigator, and other AI features. Not to mention anything else he might have taken here with him to survive and aid him that I am unaware of or forgetting. Nevertheless, that does not explain how he found the Lair…” He tapped his chin and thought as he looked at the map and the blinking dot-face. Then it struck him, and it was so obvious it was painful, in light of recent events. ‘Nardo drew the Key on the back of an old picture of us and gave it to him. Still, if I weren’t such a literal person, I’d say that kid’s a genius. Then he focused the map in on his own purple point, and entered Casey’s location into the GPS. “Now, where’s a manhole cover…”
“If you walk farther down the ally you should see one, but I don’t know why you would wanna go down there unless you’re used to it. Or unless you like that kind of stuff, for some reason.”
The lone turtle froze. He recognized that voice, but it had been so long since he had heard it, he almost couldn’t, almost wouldn’t believe it.
“Ummm, I’d not think you’d be that scared of me;” the disembodied voice replied, seeming to take his stiffness incorrectly, ”I’m just a girl coming back to her momma for dinner and you’re… bigger than I am. Man, how tall is that? Seven feet?”
Yup! He definitely knew this girl, and he didn’t know how he was going to respond. While he was trying to swallow the tears that were definitely yet to come, (who he assumed was) April started putting the pieces together. “Hold on, I recognize that coat…It’s my lucky jacket! They only sold them for a limited amount of time, in a few specific sizes, and only one style and design and color. Not in…whatever size you’re wearing, and the length that it’s in. Hey, that only has stitches where mine does. But I’m wearing mine, so you couldn’t have stolen it from me….Is that a purple mask…?”, she asked as Donatello straightened up to his full height and tried to compose himself.
“Yes, it is,” he said in a choked, weary voice. He turned around, only to find what he expected. As if he wasn’t having trouble keeping it together already, the time space continuum decided to throw this at him. He teared up at the sight of April, though she was younger and less scathed than Donnie remembered. Still, it was her. The tears were now flowing like a healthy stream as the two looked at each other. Now that was just perfect, wasn’t it?
“Don…nie?”, she asked as she looked him up and down again.
"Yes,” he answered, looking away from her now.
April advanced towards him, examining him more closely. “Well, if you’re telling the truth, you’re definitely not my Donnie. You’re going to ask how I know that, so it’s because Raphael currently will not let him get out of bed except to use the restroom. As in, Raph basically lets Donnie leave the med-bay for as long as a worm surfaces on dry day, and then only so much more than that. Dee hates it, even though he knows Raph is just a tad bit worried and restless.”
“RAPH’S ALIVE!?!?!?!?”, Donatello exclaimed, his breaths coming short and quick. Don’t hyperventilate don’t hyperventilate don’t hyperventilate DON’T HYPERVENTILATE— He looked back down towards April and searched her face for some sort of joke. Actually, now that he thought about it, was this— April standing in front of him, and ranting to him about this timeline’s version of himself’s safety, a joke? Was it a dream?
“Yes, thank goodness,” she sighed with relief.
“You…are alive? You’re real, and this isn’t the universe tricking me into a dream?” He spoke as he stooped down so that they were at eye-level.
April looked at him, concerned, knowing immediately that this was her best friend, her brother, even if he did hail from somewhere else. “Yes, I’m here. I’m alive and well, and there’s no more danger— wait, let me rephrase that. There’s no more danger than anyone wants. You can relax.” She put her hand on his shoulder, what April usually did to say without words, ‘Tell me what I can do for you.’ Donatello yanked her into an almost crushing hug¹, and hid his face in her shoulder. “Oh!”, she exclaimed, a bit shocked by his sudden movement, but she hugged back, just like he remembered she used to. She rubbed his shoulder comfortingly and said, “I just got back from the Lair to have dinner with my mom at home. She’s been taking care of injured humans and yokai alike these past few days. She’s also met my brothers and Splints now. Would you like to stay here for a bit, or continue on to— wherever you’re going?”
“Thank you for the offer; I would love to stay,” Donnie said, breaking away from the hug. His watery eyes looked at April’s face. She smiled reassuringly at him, and he couldn’t hold back a small sad, happy laugh. “I can’t believe it! You’re actually here!”, Donnie said disbelievingly.
“Come on,” she said grabbing his hand and tugging on it.
“You can’t drag me like before, remember?”, Donnie stated amusedly.
“Just get up so I don’t have to wait for dinner any longer, m’kay? I’m starving!” She walked up a few steps and opened the door. “Moooooooom, I’m here! And I have a surprise guest!”
“A surprise guest, hm? Well, how much does this ‘surprise guest’ eat?”, Carol O’ Neil asked, as Donatello followed April into the house, having to duck because of his height. “There’s only so much edible food that survived the invasion, and we’re nearly out.” He looked at the doctor, a spoon in the right-hand and the other on her hip, no different than what Donatello remembered as well.
“I’ll eat only as much as I’m allowed to,” he responded, smiling a bit timidly at this not so new face.
Dr. O’ Neil looked him up and down with a doubtful eye. “April, I will never understand how you befriend these strange people on the streets and in suspicious ally-ways, but you go to school and you’re the most socially awkward young lady in all of New York!”
Donnie outright laughed at this. He had forgotten about that! Still, somehow, at the same time he always sort of remembered. “Oh! That’s hilarious! I had almost forgotten about that,” he said once he recovered. “I am terribly sorry for the improper introduction. I am Donatello from a separate bifurcated time branch. I already know who you are, though. In any case, do you have a preference as to what I call you?”, he asked, extending his hand and smiling all the while.
“You can call me whatever you’d like, hon,” she responded accepting his hand. Her grip never changed, Donnie thought fondly. ”April, could you set the table? I’m going to finish up dinner,” Carol ordered requested as she walked back towards the stove and oven. “So how long will you be staying here?”, she asked as she stirred the soup.
“Probably just for dinner. I’m trying to find my nephew, and I’d like to find him soon,” the purple-masked turtle responded.
“Your nephew, mm? Now why would he be in this time branch? Unless you know for sure that he is?”, Dr. O’ Neil wondered.
“Hm, I suppose I’ll have to explain everything, won’t I? Well, have either of you met Casey Junior?”, he inquired.
“Yes,” the two women responded, the younger curious in tone.
“WHAT!?!?!?!?!?”, April exclaimed. “How is a human boy your nephew?”
“Have you ever heard of adoption?”, Donnie asked sarcastically.
“A— bu— wha… Who’s the father then?”
“Leo,” Donatello answered, no doubt crossing his mind, much less wandering into his voice.
“But he calls Leo ‘Sensei’!!!!!”, April protested, confusion of the utmost written all over her face.
“Well, there weren’t any papers to sign in the apocalypse, now were there?”
“What would that have to do with calling him ‘Dad’ or ‘Father’ or whatever anyways?”
“They weren’t ready yet. Plus, Casey Junior wouldn’t call Leo ‘Dad’ or anything like that unless his sister said she viewed Leo as anything more than a Master, a leader, a President-of-the-Apocalypse if you will.”
“…Casey didn’t say he had a sister.”
“Hm, that’s strange, the two were nearly inseparable. Fun fact: not only were they siblings, they were twins. Yes, twins; scientifically even! That’s something I wish I could say if, I’m being completely honest.”
April just stood there, processing every single bit of information before Dr. O’ Neil walked over and spooned dinner into the respective dishes. “Well, that’s a lot to process, i’n’ it?”
“Yep,” April said, going over to the kitchen sink to wash her hands. “Oh, maybe it’s a bit different from when you come from, uhm, other Dee, but no weapons at the table here,” the young woman said as she dried her hands off.
“Oh, of course,” Donnie said, quickly taking off the coat he was wearing, removing the nunchucks from his belt, the bō and swords’ sheaths from his back, and the quote-on-quote “sheath” for April’s base-ball bat— the April from his home time-branch. The O’ Neils watched him, surprised by the amount of weapons— and scars— on him. “Should I remove my prosthetic as well? I don’t want to go through the hassle of disabling it’s more harmful mods, and it automatically turns off when it’s not hooked up,” he pondered.
“No— no, it’s fine dear. How ‘bout you wash your hands now and then come sit down for some nice, tortilla² soup,” Carol said.
“Tortilla soup!? Oh, it has been a while since I’ve had anything that will actual sustain myself, much less something that good!” Donnie said as he walked over to the kitchen sink.
“Really? What did ya’ll eat in the apocalypse? Besides rats, CJ already told us about that,” April shuddered.
“Well, there were bugs, but not a whole bunch of people were desperate enough for that. After the world had run out of what had already been stored up is when we started eating rats, mice, rabbits, possums, or any other animal that was not claimed by the Kraang or as a pet that we could find. No, we did not eat Lieutenant Mayhem or or any sort of cat or dog. We weren’t complete savages,” Donatello explained.
“‘Lieutenant Mayhem’? That was a joke, right? No offense, Mayhem,” April said looking at a corner where the fluffy little dog-cat-thing sat curled up. He squeaked, showing that he had taken offense.
“No, it was not a joke. If you are sentient enough to give, take, and follow orders, as well as the physical capabilities to do so, you are given an official position.
“And something else that isn’t a joke, is how SPECTACULAR this soup is! Though, something lighter would have been better after not eating much these past few weeks, you won’t find me complaining about actual food!”
“A few weeks?”, Dr. O’ Neil asked, concerned.
“I thought that your brothers and I would have drilled it into your head that you need to eat three meals a day by now!” April glared at him and stirred her soup.
“Heh, like I had many other options. Leo and I were hiding from the Kraang for as long as we could, anywhere we could, for the weeks following Casey’s departure,” Donnie provided, lifting another spoonful to his mouth.
“Ah. I don’t know what to expect at this point,” April commented after pausing.
“If you’ve been through all that, you must be hurt one way or another. Let me patch you up after dinner, alright dear?”, Carol suggested after taking a few more bites.
“Sounds great. Thanks, Dr. O’ Neil,” Donnie smiled gratefully at her.
A few more minutes of silence went by, the time in which Donatello absolutely inhaled his dinner (not literally folks, dw). “So, remind me what your into these days. It’s been about, pffffffff, twenty-two years since I was sixteen— and fifteen years since I’ve seen you,” Donnie prompted as he stretched in his chair, muttering the last part to himself so that the O’ Neil’s couldn’t hear him. He was happy to see April again and wouldn’t waste a minute of it.
“I’m majoring in journalism at my college; planning on bein’ a news journalist for Channel 6, if I can get the job. They're looking to get a section in the paper approved for them, and then they'll start hiring people in a couple of months.”
“Oh, I’m positive you will get the job. You were always good at getting messages across at debriefs and for mission logs. Our data collection missions were always successful in the early days as well,” Donatello reminisced.
“What’s the early days for you?”, Carol asked, question in her gaze.
“Anytime in my life before my mid-twenties or my thirties; I haven’t decided yet,” Donnie answered, fidgeting with the red cloth on his arm.
“What changed? I remember you and Mom telling me the age of twenty was the human body’s prime? I don’t know how much it technically counts for mutant turtles yet, but eh, it’s enough I’m sure,” April asked.
Donnie looked down at his right lower arm. The colors of blue, red, orange, and black were wrapped around it. Basically and ironically, Donnie was wearing his heart as his sleeve. (It is ironic, due to my general personality and character not following the metaphorical phrase ‘wearing your heart on your sleeve’.) He then moved to fidget with the black choker on his wrist between the orange and blue cloth. “You see these scars?”, he asked, gesturing to his whole right half of his body.
“Yeah?”, April responded, curious.
“They are from an explosion that made me blind in my right eye, deaf in my right ear, and gave me twisted scars on my lower leg because Kraang gunk splatted on my exposed flesh, and it had already begun to spread by the time I got back to the base with— Cassandra and April,” he concluded the sentence reluctantly.
“What does this have to do with the ‘early days’?”, April inquired, beginning to feel impatient with this Don-pelgänger³, who was trying to slowly explain the situation instead of just saying it bluntly. He had definitely changed.
“Well, the early days were before I got this scar. I was about twenty-three, April and I were on one of our intel collection missions again, and Cassandra had been assigned to join us because she was getting restless, and Casey Jr. and his sister were young; we didn’t want them to become orphaned again. I still had my ninpo then, just so you know. We were doing alright, until Kraang somehow detected our presence. A Kraang android came out and I fired at it, successfully, mind you, except that the Kraang appeared to know we were coming. They sent out an android that basically had what could be simply described as a land mine inside of it; mix that with the missiles I had just fired at it— well… things didn’t turn out that well. I had my battle shell on, but the explosion still reached past it. And Cassandra and April…” Donnie trailed off, he couldn’t finish the sentence, or he would become an absolute mess, since anytime truly he relived that memory— well, he never wants to relive that memory. But when he does, he always collapses into a shaking heap.
“Twenty-three? My little brother could have— has lost me, at the age of twenty-three!?!?!?”, April demanded, furious and fuming.
“Yes,” Donnie said, his voice audibly meeker than it had been before.
“Indeed. It was not how any of us imagined she’d die,” Donnie smirked at his comment, despite the topic.
“Yeah, I bet. How did Future-Boy react to this? I’ve gathered that Casey’s his mom from what CJ has said, what you said, and the first and last names,” April queried.
“Ah, yes. How old was he then? Two or three I think. Yeah, you were also a mother-figure to him, so that didn’t exactly help…”, he mentioned hesitantly. “Oh, poor thing,” Dr. O’ Neil sadly murmured. “Yeah. This is not a me only thing when I say: that never should have been the life those kids led,” Donnie agreed, face solemn while putting his hands up by his head as if a gun were— bad analogy, you get the point. By now, the O’ Neils have finished their dinner; everyone has cleared their spots and the patient has been doing what he did best: explaining.
“Alright now, Don. How ‘bout we go to the couch and get ya all fixed up? April, get the first aid kit and my work bag,” instructed O’ Neil Senior. The two walked over to the couch as April rushed to grab what she had been ordered (after saluting of course). “Now, can you tell me if anything hurts anywhere at all?”, asked the seasoned doctor.
“Well, I have a few bruises and cuts that may or may not become infected, but nothing serious or unusual, I believe. I might have dislocated my humerus from my shoulder at some point?” Donatello responded, bending down to unlatch his prosthetic and check the damage. “Eugh, I’m going to have to tighten a few screws; nothing major, that’s good. Maybe a bit of oil to loosen up the joints, I’ve got that resource now. Oh, I’m going to abuse my accessibility to resources, and will have no regrets, what-so-ever,” Donnie said, his face betraying all of the gremlin inside of him.
“Wow! That’s a wicked cool prosthetic! You make it?”, April asked as she approached with the medical cases.
“Who else? Raphael? Leonardo? Of course I made it,” Donatello responded, holding it up in case she wanted to look at it closer. She reached for it once she had set the bags down, eyes glittering, but Donnie stopped her before she made contact with it. “I’ll warn you, it’s quite a bit heavy if you are the size that you are, and/or not used to the weight of it.”
“Oh, okay, thanks,” April said eagerly, hurriedly, while reaching for the metal contraption, as if Donnie would change his mind at any second and yank it back. Scoff, he thought. As if I could be that careless. “Wow! This is so cool! Mind if I take a few pics to send to Dee?”, she asked, already getting her phone out to take pictures. “Um, my Dee, I mean.”
“But, of course. Not that he’ll be needing it, seeing as he may be able to tear it apart and put it back together— under my supervision, obviously,” Donnie answered, lifting his left pant leg so that the doctor could treat his wounds.
He bit his tongue as she cleaned and disinfected them with some water, hydrogen peroxide, and a cloth. It was really the cloth that did it for him, seeing as water and hydrogen peroxide had never bothered him in the past.
“Sweet!”, April said, obviously hyped at this whole situation. Donnie heard the classic sound of a smart phone taking pictures while he watched Carol examine his injuries a bit closer; putting her glasses on so that she would actually be able to see clearly. “You’re lucky it’s not as bad as the stain on your pant told me it was,” she commented while she grabbed bandages. “You’ve got some gashes, nothing I can’t handle. Anywhere else, dear?” She put some more disinfectant on cotton-like pad, this time, and put the pad on the gashes, what she would then wrap the bandages around.
“As I said before, I believe I dislocated my right shoulder during a fight within the past few weeks. I believe I managed to pop it back in, but better safe than sorry. It’s still a bit sore,” he added, rolling said shoulder to test it out against his better judgment. Carol tsked and got to work on examining it once she was done with his leg.
“Mind if I send these pics to Don…uuhhhhh, other Don?”, April asked, flipping through the pictures of the senior turtle’s prosthetic.
“Very well, only if you wish for an excruciating amount of questions that he will have for you, of which I will make sure you don’t answer. Not to mention the countless questions he desires desperately for how it works, which I will also make sure he does not receive unless I abide. I will only answer if he asks me in person, and only if I so desire,” Donatello said, leaning back with an especially bored expression on his face, finger-tips touching so that he made a very loose triangle. “So, yes, you may. But only if you are willing to take a great risk at your sanity, and your brother’s.”
April stared at the old soldier dumb-founded-ly. “So…yes? But at my own expense?”
“Precisely,” the soft-shell replied.
“Geez! You could have just said that! I guess some things never change…” April commented, scratching her head.
“Alright,” Carol began. “You were right, Donnie. You dislocated your shoulder, buuut you didn’t pop it back in, so we’ll do that now, okay hon?” Dr. O’ Neil started putting her tools down.
“Oh? Well alright then. Just give me a count down,” Donnie said, re-situating himself so that the doctor could easily proceed with relocating his shoulder.
“Okay,” she said, grabbing his upper-arm and around his collar. “You ready?”
“Alright. Three,” she counted, “two, one…” Donnie felt pain and pressure in his arm and through-out his shoulder area. He winced and sharply inhaled through gritted teeth and a clenched jaw.
He had been through much worse procedures than this without pain meds, or being put under, so ideally this should be nothing— and it wasn’t for the most part. Donnie— along with most of the adults in, at least, the Liberty Resistance— had built up a strong immunity to pain, so he didn’t feel it as much as an ordinary person would have. I also have been living off of strong pain meds though, so that may also be it. That doesn't mean he didn't feel it, though.
“Man! I don't think I saw you even flinch! Did you even flinch? No, you didn't even do that!”, April observed, obviously impressed.
Even though Donatello was much older than her, he couldn’t help but feel his chest swell with pride at her tone. His brain argued that it was silly. This was a young, inexperienced, just-into-college girl, and even if Donnie had somehow figured out how to reverse age, and turned his own April into someone of this same age, it would still be different than this. Still, given the information that Michael gave him, it made complete sense that he felt this way.
Back to reality— a reality, at least, his shoulder was sore. “Yeah, that’s what happens when you build up a decent immunity to pain. Still hurts though,” Donnie added ,trying to be modest for once in his life. He was barley managing to half-lie through his teeth, and was immensely grateful that April didn't notice it-- or bother to ask.
“You should take that arm easy for a few days, at least, before you do anythin’ exciting, alright dear?”, Carol ordered prescribed, examining Donnie’s shoulder a bit more before moving on.
“I suppose I can do that. Sigh,” sighed Donnie reluctantly, knowing that if his family were here then there would be no questions. They weren’t and somehow that made Donnie want to listen to their hypothetical opinions more. Ugh. How could I become such a sentimental fool!
April interrupted his thoughts again, making another exclamation. “What? Donnie’s agreeing to rest, and not have someone FORCE HIM TO!?!?!?”
“Indeed, dear April,” Donnie said, closing one eye and putting a hand on top of his ear to muffle the sound more than his mono-ggle already did. “In my time, in the twenty-two years of the apocalypse, my family, and some close friends in the resistance— all the same— insisted that I rest whenever I had serious injuries. I eventually learned that arguing was just wasting time that they and I had to loose, so why do it?”, he explained simply.
“So that’s all it takes to get Donnie to rest, huh? Lots of pestering and saying that time’s being wasted?”, April wondered. “Well, I’m going to abuse this information on my Donnie at least,” she said in a chipper voice.
“I believe tha— ouch! What was that?”, Donatello asked, surprised.
“Oh, just tweesin’ out some small shards of metal in your leg. Don’t worry they’re not rusty, but did you have tetanus vaccines in your time? Or at all? Better to be safe than sorry,” Carol responded, showing him a small piece of metal the size of a finger-nail clipping covered in blood.
“Yeesh. Yes, and yes, but not within the past fifteen years at least,” Donnie answered as he examined the shard. “Never fear! I always keep A.T.A.S. on me since both Leo and I have metal prosthetics, and we could accidentally cut someone at any point. Cough— Casey Junior— cough,” he explained, fake coughing, though at the same time you could distinctly hear the words “cough”.
“Ummmmmmm,” April raised a finger.
“Hither, hand me mine coat. It should be in there…” Donnie said, snatching the piece of cloth from April’s hands as she held it out.
“Okay, one: didn’t anyone from the future tell you that you sound weird when you talk like that? I know that we’ve told our Don, but I don’t know if that’s the same, too,” April shot at him.
“Oh, yes. Countless times, before and after the Kraang invaded. Two?” Donnie noticed that April flinched when he said the name. “Don’t say their name?” April nodded. “Understood. I shall try. Anyways, two?” Donnie didn’t want to bother getting anymore information until he had met all of his timeline’s counterparts.
“Two, what in the world is A.T.A.S.? Why not atlas? It sounds better than atas,” April criticized.
“Ah. Well, it is for the reason of A.T.A.S. being an acronym for my Artificial Tetanus Antibiotic Spray,” Donnie explained, pulling out the spray can and demonstrating to each word as he said it before he shook the can and tossed it to Dr. O’ Neil. “Don’t worry, you, Leon, and a number of other scientists and medical professionals approved of the formula and successful tests I provided”, he reassured as she read the drug facts on the back. “Nothing exciting happened the times that we’ve used it, so either A: no one has been infected with the bacteria, or B: my formula is extremely effective.”
“Well, it seems alright. ‘Just enough to cover the wound in a silvery sheen’ is what it says? So, lightly”, Carol checked.
“Correct,” Donnie nodded. Dr. O’ Neil popped off the can’s lid and sprayed it on the cut. Then she wrapped it.
“Alright, I think that’s it,” the doctor said, looking over her handiwork, double checking the turtle for anything she might have missed.
“How ‘bout your shell, Dee? Is that alright?”, April tested.
“No harm in checking, I suppose,” Donnie agreed, his tone reluctant. “Though, I haven’t taken it off in weeks, and nothing’s happened, so I would prefer to wait until I go to sleep— or at least sit down for a longer rest.”
“Wai- wai- wai- wai- wait. You, Donatello Hamato, are not being forced to rest, pushed to rest, nor asked to rest, but just— you’re just…volunteering?????” April looked like she had been lied to beyond belief.
Donnie just chuckled to himself and clicked his leg back on; he had already put on his coat once Carol had said she was definitely finished with him. “Some things never change, April, but some things do,” he said, catching her off-guard again when he threw “wise-old-man-advice” at her. She stared, shocked yet again by how much her best friend, her brother, had changed over the time and events that she had never experienced.
“Also, I’m pretty sure you’ve been shocked by me accepting help the whole evening, Apes.” Donnie stood and stretched. “Thank you for your hospitality, my friends,” he said, “but I really should find my nephew and see how he’s been holding up.” Donnie reached for his additional weapons, and grabbed the A.T.A.S. can with one of his robotic arms and stowed it in his coat as he did so. “I didn’t get how he’s been faring, by the way. How is he doing? I’m more worried about how he’ll adjust to us as teenagers more than anything. The kid is adaptable and can absolutely hold his own.” A tone of concern, and then fondness and pride, had worked their way into Donnie’s voice; he was the only one who didn’t notice.
“Oh, yeah, he’s definitely still adjusting. It has just been a little less than a month since we met him after all. And don’t worry. Out of all of us, he was probably injured least. Well, he was at least no less injured than I was, and he was a bit messed up when I found him— or rather he found me. I just knocked him out,” April explained.
“Of course he did; and of course you did,” he said, sighing (fondly, though he wouldn’t admit it) and scruffling April’s hair.
“Hey!”, she protested to no avail.
“I need to leave now,” Donnie said. “I believe I have all my arms.” April snickered, the sentence sounding funny to her, even though she knew what he meant. Donnie just stared at the ground. He could almost hear his twin. ‘Unlike me’, he would pout; Donnie would groan and face-palm, then say, ‘Seriously, ‘Nardo? This is extremely important; We don’t have time for puns!’, and Donnie would throw his hands up in exasperation. Donnie smiled and shook his head as he recalled this happening on multiple occasions.
“Knock-knock? Anyone in there?”, April poked, waving her hand in front of his face as much as she could.
“Oh, right. Yes, I’m here. Apologies,” Donnie said, snapping out of his quote-on-quote “trance”.
“No worries. See ya later, then?”, checked April. He could hear the hope in her voice; he needed it.
“Why, of course, my dear friend. May I have your phone for a moment? I don’t want to bother hacking into it right now”, Donnie asked as he opened the door. Fresh New York air blasted his face and he breathed deeply. I didn’t know I missed this so much…
“Uuuuuhhhhh, sure,” April handed her phone to him.
Donnie went to contacts and added his phone number and email. “There,” he said, handing the phone back. “I labeled myself as ‘Donatello Senior’, should you not misunderstand who is trying to contact you.”
“Oh, thanks! And, seriously. Stop talking like that.” She made a disgusted face at his choice of phrasing.
“Sigh. I suppose not everyone might be able to have such a well rounded vocabulary and selection of sentence phrasing as I,” he sagged dramatically. April rolled her eyes and he smiled. Donnie knelt down and gave April a hug. It didn’t compare to Raph’s, but it definitely just passed as ‘sufficiency’. “Bye,.. April,” Donnie said, just outside the thresh-hold.
“Bye, Don. Thanks for choosing to come to my neck of the woods first! See ya later!!!”, April waved enthusiastically as Donnie walked down the front steps and into the alley-way.
Donnie waved back for a moment, then continued on his walk until he reached a man-hole cover. The mutant lifted it, peeking inside to make sure it was safe. “Well,” he said to himself as he pulled up the holo-screen on his gauntlet again, “time to go…home.” He jumped into the grimy sewer, not seen by any other human eye that night.
Chapter 1!!! Yippeeee!!!!! I've had the first five chapters written out for months, so I'm happy that I'm getting the first one out!
Also, @queenofthewigglers, you seemed interested, so here you go :)
Prologue | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2
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the hug is only crushing due to their size difference
tortilla pronunciation (for those who do not know) -- tore-tea-a (idk how to do pronunciation dictionary stuff shdjsshsg)
the name "Donnie" meets the word "doppelgänger"
