Chapter Text
Donnie's legs quickly took him to the arc that divided both rooms. The urgency to get there so fast was uncharacteristic of the turtle, but he just had to know where that familiar tune belonged. Before he could process what was happening, his head was shyly picked away from behind the wall drowning his face in the pale blue light from the TV screen. And for a swift moment, his heart dropped. As if hypnotized, he walked closer and closer to the TV, now finally getting a proper look at the movie playing. If there were any lingering doubts about what it was, now they were gone. Jupiter Jim's Pluto Vacation IV was blasting from the old television with all its glory, enveloping the ambient with its iconic soundtrack and scenes Donnie so dearly loved.
Nostalgia truly was a powerful thing. Strong enough to ignite not only all those memories the turtle was so desperately trying to suppress, but also the warm tears that now silently fell onto his feet. He blinked rapidly, raising one hand to his cheek, disappointed but not surprised to feel the familiar wet and stinging sensation left by the droplet trails on his skin.
A disgusted sigh left his lips as he harshly wiped them away. Then suddenly he stopped, like a deer in headlights, after a movement from the couch caught him off guard. The agitation was caused by an unmindful Casey stretching out before cozily snuggling himself up in his seat again, now in a better spot.
Well, maybe sitting wasn’t exactly what he was doing.
The boy was pretty much tossed all over the brownish sofa. Each part of his body was in a position that not even a victim fresh out of a car crash could pull. Yet it did seem like he was comfortable (?), at least for now.
Casey was completely immersed in the movie. Chewing on his now loosened hair while watching every scene with a twinkle in his eyes, and even going as far as mumbling the lines alongside the characters. It clearly wasn’t his first rodeo, but you could see how much he loved it.
At the corner of his eye, Donnie could see, or rather sense, its ever-growing suffocating presence, hiding behind the frame dividing the rooms, watching him with heavy judgment and a burning stare, lurking silently from a distance.
A shiver went up his spine but he ultimately ignored the feeling by closing his eyes and looking away from the boy. He also chose to remain behind the couch, unnoticed, so he could analyze his surroundings instead, grounding himself in a way.
Peeking around, he could see all the usual things any typical old apartment would have, plus some others any typical April apartment would have as well. Besides the cracks on the walls, scraped wooden floors, worn-down furniture, and many, many boxes of pizza, there was also lots of other stuff that decorated the place, especially photos. Some of them were of April’s family, of her mother holding her at the port of their summer house someplace in the middle of the woods, another with just six-year-old April smiling with missing a few teeth while riding a bike way too big for her, another one of her happily holding a newly made Warren fan club vice president membership card filled with pride.
Yet, the thing that stood out most to him was neither.
There was a brand new scratch pole near the TV practically sparkling due to never being used, while the poor sofa and, most of the more scratchable furniture, had definitely seen better days.
And who was the culprit? Well, Donnie had some theories.
Mayhem, the cat-dog-fox-or-whatever, Yokai received that name for a reason but he was nowhere to be seen, probably running from the crime scene purposely so April wouldn’t notice.
A true mastermind in disguise.
Or maybe, he was not the one to blame. Cassandra could not be free of suspicion either, and that was not as ridiculous as it sounded, at least from the purple turtle's point of view. If you’d had at least one talk with Cassandra, you’d know the odds of him being right were not zero. The woman was feral, even worse than the little menace.
But where was Mayhem?
He always had been a very autonomous “pet”, teleporting out of thin air for days at an end and only coming back when hungry or needy of intense petting and snacks, at least according to April’s texts. Unfortunately, to the girl’s despair, she had no idea of the Yokai's whereabouts for the past few weeks, not even after going to the Hidden City to search for him herself using Senõr Hueso’s help to get around unnoticed.
Those worries flooded her already very anxious thoughts, adding only another layer of guilt and urgency to her routine causing the declining concentration problem and the sleep deprivation to become even more…well, problematic. Yet, surprisingly enough, the person who chassed those pesky ideas out before they turned into something way messier was none other than Cassandra, the feral soldier in the flesh.
The recruit assured her, more than once, that Mayhem was not a helpless animal. It was just a matter of time until he returned home, but when he didn’t and April’s college/work/Kraang investigation doubled down, she decided to take matters into her own hands. Cassandra basically stormed the Hidden City Counsel, hockey stick in hands and everything, demanding they launch a search party for the Yokai immediately or she would make them regret it. Of course that backfired horribly which caused, you guessed it, her to be arrested.
Thankfully, Sr. Hueso got wind of it and sent some of his crew to get her out after Caasandra’s failed proof “strategy” of invading a highly secured building, threatening the guardians, and basically single-handedly fighting an army of well-trained police personnel if they refused to help, completely went to h*ll. April didn’t know anything about it, obviously, which only made it worse when she saw how Cassandra was now a wanted criminal from the HCP.
One can only imagine how painfully long and rage-filled the earful the recruit got was. It went on for hours and hours. By the end of it, the reporter had lost her voice while the recruit lost both her hearing and freedom to go out anywhere but within the apartment for 2 whole weeks since the HCP would surely go searching for her on the surface.
Yet, after cooling off, April set her down and thanked her knowing she did it with nothing but good intentions, but begged her not to do anything like that ever again, suggesting that if she wanted to help she could do some field work in her place, to take some of the burdens away. Cassandra agreed before asking about the Mayhem situation the reporter said she only wished he was safe wherever he was and that waiting was all that was left for now.
Donnie believed she was right. There was nothing more to do other than wait for the little rascal’s return, which optimistically would be sooner rather than later. Well, that's what the turtle hoped, at least for April's sake.
A loud sneeze took Donnie away from his mind palace.
“Gesundheit!”
“You should cover your mouth.”
“Oh my-!” Casey jumped out of his seat, almost falling to the ground.” Donnie! I thought-I thought you left?…” He said while turning to pause the movie.
Yeah. The boy was right. Why didn’t he leave? April was gone and probably wouldn’t come back soon, and it was not like he needed to return to the lair if he left the apartment. He could hide in plenty of other places, being left alone for as long as he wished…
Right?...
Donnie didn't answer the boy (too busy being introspective) who was now, very much, mortified with the situation he found himself in.
“So…did you finish your plate?”
“No”
“...Do you plan to?...”
“No”
…
…
…
Cassey coughed, trying to break the awkward silence.
“...Alright. I'll-I’ll take care of it for you later, so Commander O'Neil doesn't...” He put both hands around his neck, jokingly imitating a strangulation. “You know? Hehehe.”
Donnie didn’t move or say anything; he just looked down at his feet. No interest or energy to continue the conversation Casey so desperately wanted to start.
Cassey turned back to the paused screen; not knowing where to go from there. Uncomfortable and with a posture stiff, he could be mistaken for a statue, he decided to press play again, in a hopeless attempt to mask the discomfort with some white noise in the background because heaven knows, he couldn't pay any more attention to the movie at this point.
Unfortunately, the purple turtle didn’t, or wouldn’t, acknowledge the boy’s uneasiness, choosing to remain silent and still for what felt like an eternity. The only movement that came from him was the slow rise of his eyes to the screen. So controlled and hesitant that almost seemed as if it was painful to do so.
It had been so long. So long. Since Donnie last watched anything, let alone something he used to enjoy so much. He didn't have time, nor the desire for it. Not long ago, it once used to be a way of winding down, a synonym for a well-needed relaxing alone time where he could sit back, and hit play on some of his favorite movies, series, or videos while working on his tech, away from everyone, at least for some time. Just him and himself, trying to recharge for a little bit before heading out for some missions or just their usual hangouts, which Donnie would often audibly complain about going to, but hardly not attend.
What a fool he had been.
“...You like PV IV?” Donnie muttered in an almost inaudible voice.
“Hum? What?”
The turtle pointed with his head towards the TV.
“Oh! Oh yeah! It’s-it’s one of my favorite movies ever!” Cassey quickly turned to him, grabbing the sofa’s backrest.
“Actually!” Casey fully turned, folding his arms over the sofa’s headboard. “I have a really funny story about-”
“Do you know Jupiter Jim Sails The Seven Galaxies? Have you ever watched it?” Donnie cut him short with his usual emotionless tone. Yet, one could say something close to urgency hid behind that calculated stoicism.
The boy deflated instantly, turning to face the TV again, defeated to see his golden opportunity of an icebreaker being tossed out of the window. You could almost hear his spirit getting crushed.
“Yes-yes, I have.”
“What are your thoughts on it?”
“My thoughts on it?! It’s one of my ultimate favorites!” He bounced right back like an excited puppy, kneeling on the couch and fully turning in the turtle’s direction again. “It was one of Master Leonardo's favorites too!”
“Oh really?" Donnie snickered. "Well, I think you're wrong.” Donnie’s tone was cold and sharp, the final nail in the coffin to kill CJ's hopes of getting a “nice talk" going.
"N-No! It is, I swear!" The boy tried protesting. "He told me that-"
“Look” He pinched the space between his eyebrows. His eyes closed shut as a headache threatened its way to the surface. “Are you going to say that all J.J. movies are ‘one of your favorites’?”
“Wow, someone woke from the wrong side of his shell today!” The voice chuckled maliciously.
“...No? I don't think so?...”
“Poor kid…” It mocked. “You know he doesn’t deserve this right? But who knows? Maybe he didn’t suffer enough already.”
“Then I suggest you pick one and stick with your choice.”
“I’m-I’m sorry, Donnie…I just love those movies a lot…like, a whole lot…I wasn’t lying or anything…”
“I mean…with the whole making-out-of-an-apocalyptic-future-alone you could say the boy is traumatized for life already. First, he is the only one who survived while pretty much everyone else he knew and loved died terrible, painful deaths…”
“It’s just that they mean so much to me…They always had, and-and I thought it would be nice if we could, you know? Talk about them? I don't know…”
“Oh yeah? Then how about you figure it out before starting a conversation?”
“And let's not forget that he also watched his mentor/father figure die in front of his eyes, not once, but twice in the span of what? 3 days? I’m not sure, time travel ain't my thing.” It shrugged it off.
“I-I'm...Master Leonardo always told me that-”
“Yeah, you know what? I don’t think those deaths even count! It evened out when we changed the future right? I think that's how it works. Let's add more wood in the pile! You're already doing that anyway. Gosh, such a natural…
“SHUT UP!!!”
Donnie’s voice reverberated through the walls with such visceral, raw anger that even him for taken aback. The amount of oxygen in his lungs were squeezed out faster than he could replenish it, he even lost his balance as a consequence, being forced to lean over the sofa's headboard so as not to fall. His vision was blurry as his eyes locked on the carpet below, attempting to regain their focus. A dreadful wave of migraines came crashing down, ones that were way beyond the usual type Donnie was familiar with. He was already at his limit, due to all the sleepless nights and constant nightmares, and this episode was just the needle to finally pop his balloon. A balloon that was filled to the it's brim, incapable of taking in any more than those long, painful months of buried frustration and self-loathing amounted to.
And, unfortunately, Casey just so happened to be the one around at the time of the explosion.
Dear old Casey.
His breathing, still shaky, was now accompanied by that same over-stimulus on his skin and the ever going pressure on his head, making him almost vomit with the sudden agony of being bombarded with all of it at once.
“Woo-hoo! That was a good start! How does it feel?” It mocked in a cheerful voice.
The turtle closed his eyes, as the pain grew sharper.
“Well, I hope you had fun, ‘cause CJ there sure didn't.”
As soon as those malicious words echoed, Donnie heard an abrupt movement coming from the couch, and as he turned his head to see what caused it, a tense Casey was already up, back turned as he tried to “hide” away from the turtle.
“Yeah, you’re right…I'm sorry Donatello…I'll leave you alone.” His voice was quiet and shaky, but cold. “I'll be in the kitchen if you need anything.”
Casey walked so fast out of that living room that he almost knocked a few piles of documents that were on the top of the coffee table. He was swift and quiet like usual, living behind nothing but a long tense silence and a frozen Donnie.
The migraine was gone as soon as the voice stopped, but what remained was far worst than the pain. The crushing shame that followed after Casey left was just something that Donnie couldn’t really deal with as “efficiently”, causing his self-loathing levels to skyrocket, as if it wasn’t bad enough already.
He stood there, alone in the living room. Eyes tired, but tainted with shock and mouth slithgly open, still catching his breath from what just happened, from what he just said. Donnie's eyes darted aimasly around the room in a daze for what felt like a long time before finally lending on the kitchen’s entrance where Casey went trough just a few minutes ago. Donnie looked at his hands, feeling the familiar burn on his eyes, yet nothing came out. He wouldn’t allow it. He couldn’t allow the relief, not after what he just did.
The turtle clenched his fist and looked up, blinkling rapidly as a shaky exhale left his lips. He screwed up again, not even a day after promising April he would change the way of dealing with this hole situation. Of being a better person to the people he cared about, and that cared for him in return as well. Not even a day passed, and the promise already went to sh*t.
“Good job Donatello...” Donnie said in a quiet voice, muffled by his palms covering his face. “You outdid yourself again…” He sighed, dragging his hands down on his face, pulling the soft skin beneath his eyes along.
He looked again at the rectangular division that separated both rooms. His body flinched, but Donnie stayed in the same spot. Hesitation restraining his limbs as a million thoughts ran into his mind.
Should he go after him? What was the right thing to say to Casey? What was the right thing to do? Was it really the best course of option to take?
How could he fix all of it?
Donnie sighed again, a deep and controlled one this time. He took the first step towards the kitchen.
It was time for a change.