[It takes Robert awhile to notice that note - he was probably awake when Don was there but, you know, Donatello's a ninja. He's good at sneaking around silently slipping notes under the doors of unsuspecting scientists without their knowledge.
But when he does notice it - in the handwriting he recognizes as none other than purple-mask-wearing-turtle's - he practically vacuums it off the floor and hugs it to his chest. He's alone, so he lets himself indulge in that little unprofessional display. He's back. He's back and he wants to celebrate White Day with m - ... Wait, what is White Day?
... That actually doesn't matter at the moment. Donatello is back; that is all that matters.
After the initial few seconds of processing the enormity of this - fifteen days, he had been gone fifteen days and it felt like an eon and now he is back - Robert snatches up his journal immediately and sends a message to Donatello. Hopefully. Full of so many emotions he can't possibly quantify all of them.]
... Donatello, you're back... I've missed you
( ... )
[Robert had been sitting, waiting. Staring at the journal incessantly, as though him tracking it would somehow mystically cause Donatello to respond more quickly. Robert knew realistically it wouldn't, that he was probably busy, that he had his family to get back to and perhaps it was just awkward to see him after two weeks and -
... Then of course there's that urgent little message that cuts into Robert's nearly-catatonic-staring-at-journal state. Don sounds like he's practically sprinting there already.
So Robert gets up and starts... pacing. And looking at the door like he's trying to analyze the material with his retinas. And pacing some more. And generally looking like, if he had any idea where Don actually was, he would be running there at that moment, bad health be damned.
There is so much he wants to say. So much he needs to say. "I love you" being the most prominent one.
[He is sprinting there already. With one detour, which he makes as quickly as possible.]
[In twenty minutes a lovestruck turtle will be banging on your door. He has a covered plate in one hand and an enormous box of chocolates in the other, so it's anyone's guess how he managed to knock.]
[As Don walks into the house, he will be fairly assaulted by the smell of baked goods. Muffins and snickerdoodles and chocolate chip cookies and perhaps a pie or two. Your brother is a stress baker, Donatello. Hungry?
You'll find Mike banging around in the kitchen. His plastron is streaked with flour, and when you walk in he'll be stirring something in a bowl. He has his shell to you, and he won't turn around at the sound of the door opening, though as you get closer he might edge around so he has the corner of his eye on you.
Mike practically leaps out of his shell at your touch. You didn't sneak up on him. But he's still startled. Chew on that.
Actually, you can also chew on the fact that Mike has turned around and flung his arms around you and is squeezing the brains out of you. This is not exuberance. This is a life-hold. He will die if he lets go. He still doesn't say anything. He's not even crying. But his eyes are shut tight, and a high keening is starting in the back of his throat.
[Splinter is waiting in the workout room, deep in meditation on the mats. He hears Donatello enter the house, hears him speak with his brother. Even though he wants to see his son--his healthy, alive son--he waits. Donatello and Michelangelo need time.
He knows that Donatello will come to him when he is ready.]
[When Donatello comes, he comes quietly, padding into the room and dropping to the mats with hardly a sound. He kneels before his father, head down, and says nothing. He's not sure yet what degree of trouble he's in, and it isn't his place to speak first.]
Comments 367
But when he does notice it - in the handwriting he recognizes as none other than purple-mask-wearing-turtle's - he practically vacuums it off the floor and hugs it to his chest. He's alone, so he lets himself indulge in that little unprofessional display. He's back. He's back and he wants to celebrate White Day with m - ... Wait, what is White Day?
... That actually doesn't matter at the moment. Donatello is back; that is all that matters.
After the initial few seconds of processing the enormity of this - fifteen days, he had been gone fifteen days and it felt like an eon and now he is back - Robert snatches up his journal immediately and sends a message to Donatello. Hopefully. Full of so many emotions he can't possibly quantify all of them.]
... Donatello, you're back... I've missed you ( ... )
Reply
Reply
... Then of course there's that urgent little message that cuts into Robert's nearly-catatonic-staring-at-journal state. Don sounds like he's practically sprinting there already.
So Robert gets up and starts... pacing. And looking at the door like he's trying to analyze the material with his retinas. And pacing some more. And generally looking like, if he had any idea where Don actually was, he would be running there at that moment, bad health be damned.
There is so much he wants to say. So much he needs to say. "I love you" being the most prominent one.
Gods he wants this to work out. For everybody.]
Reply
[In twenty minutes a lovestruck turtle will be banging on your door. He has a covered plate in one hand and an enormous box of chocolates in the other, so it's anyone's guess how he managed to knock.]
Reply
You'll find Mike banging around in the kitchen. His plastron is streaked with flour, and when you walk in he'll be stirring something in a bowl. He has his shell to you, and he won't turn around at the sound of the door opening, though as you get closer he might edge around so he has the corner of his eye on you.
He won't speak.]
Reply
[Don drops his heavy pack, crosses the room, and hugs Mike around the shoulders.] Anything you want is yours.
Reply
Mike practically leaps out of his shell at your touch. You didn't sneak up on him. But he's still startled. Chew on that.
Actually, you can also chew on the fact that Mike has turned around and flung his arms around you and is squeezing the brains out of you. This is not exuberance. This is a life-hold. He will die if he lets go. He still doesn't say anything. He's not even crying. But his eyes are shut tight, and a high keening is starting in the back of his throat.
You have no idea, bro. No effing idea.]
Reply
Reply
He knows that Donatello will come to him when he is ready.]
Reply
Reply
THWACK!]
Reply
Reply
Leave a comment