(( So the context is, Leo and Raph found the nightwatcher and brought him home. It´s morning. ))
"M-Mikey, stand back! That’s not Raph!" Donnie’s high pitched voice was sharp and commanding, cracking slightly.
The purple-banded youngster stood in the doorway of their room, as if ready to bolt, wearing a hoodie that spelled out "No, I will not fix your computer" and comfy purple pants. His shoulders were tense and his jaw was clenched from the stress of a stranger on the floor. He carried a laptop tucked under one arm and his other hand, gripping a steaming cup of something hot to drink. It was not coffee—he did not enjoy the taste just yet. Milky tea was good for now.
Mikey, ever trusting, leaned over Night, his wide, curious eyes locked on the stranger sprawled on the matress. "It’s okaaay, Donnie. Don´t freak out. He’s been sleeping here all night see," he said, his tone light and full of trust, like he’d already decided this stranger was family.
Donnie’s eye twitched. "Seriously? Raph brought his clone to the lair? For fun?! Are you kidding me right now? He could be dangerous!"
From his bed across from them, and beneath a pile of blankets, the younger Raph groaned, his voice muffled. "Shaddup, you guys… I wanna sleep in. It’s Saturday."
Unfazed, Mikey poked at Night’s bandana, his grin spreading ear to ear. "This is so coooool! Can we keep him? I always wanted more brothers."
Donnie’s exasperation hit a boiling point. "Keep him? Mikey, this isn’t some stray you found in the alley! You don’t keep mysterious clones!" He gestured wildly toward the unconscious figure. "We don´t know him!"
"Oh uh good morning," Leo walked up behind Donnie, with some pancakes for their guest.
"It´s okay, he’s not evil or anything. If he was, we’d already be dead. That makes sense..right? He´s like uh..a protector of all worlds. He can´t be evil."
Mikey nodded. "Yeah, that´s what I was trying to say, wait he´s whaaat?"
"THAT STILL DOES NOT MAKE THIS OKAY!" Donnie’s voice cracked with frustration and anger with his oldest brother, his words slicing through the air with surgical precision. Each syllable was like a perfectly calibrated instrument of rage, designed to emphasize just how monumentally idiotic this situation was.
@nightwatchr
