It was ridiculous to call dibs on a person. You could not own a person, not really. Donatello knew this. Donatello could spout out to you all the reasons, all the laws created about owning a person, when they were ratified. He could debate down any argument. Donnie knew that owning someone was not something that was possible, not legally, and not practically.
But he couldn't quite put into words why it bothered him so much that Michelanglo called dibs on April O'Neil. He couldn't really describe the way that it got under his skin, dug right beneath his flesh, tunneled past the muscles and sinew to burrow right down into his bones and bother him. And it bothered him even more than he was unable to find the words to accurately describe the way he was feeling.
No one was able to make him feel that way but April. Just what was it about her that made Donnie lose his tongue? What was it about her that made all the thoughts slip out of his head? Nothing made sense when she was around. The chaos should have been off putting, considering he was so meticulous in the first place. He never should have wanted her to be near him again, because not understanding meant being unable to plan, and being unable to plan meant being unable to defend yourself. And being unable to defend yourself meant death.
Instead, Donnie wanted her around more. He wanted her to be near them, but more specifically, he wanted her to be near him. Part of it was so they could protect her, because the poor girl really didn't need to be dragged through the wringer like this. But part of it was just because he like her presence. Donnie found himself not only embracing, but seeking out, that element that brought chaos to his mind and surroundings.
"Hey," the calm, clear voice came from behind his back. Donatello jumped, breaking him from his reverie.
"Oh uh... Hey, April." he stammered, pushing his glasses up on his face. "I didn't realize that you'd come in. I mean, obviously I realized you were down here in the lair, I just didn't know that you were there. Behind me." he swallowed.
"Yeah," she laughed softly. "I guess I can be pretty quiet, huh?" she parked it in the spare swivel chair behind Donatello's. Usually that was where Mikey sat and spun, babbling a mile a minute at Donnie. It was almost pleasant, the way his younger brother went on and on about things Donnie didn't care about at all. It was nice background noise.
April was different. She was quiet, observant. A bit like Leo, but she was also trying to follow along and listen. She was trying to learn. It made Donnie feel almost powerful to be able to teach someone something.
"So what are you doing?" she slipped one leg over the other, and held her knee with her hands.
"Just revamping security." he mumbled. "You know. Nothing fancy. I just thought that if I re-routed some of the-. You don't care about this."
"Sure I do."
"No, you don't. No one does. Not really." he swallowed and pushed at his glasses again. "No one cares about it, and that's why I do it."
"But you care about it." April locked eyes with him. "You care about it, and that must mean that it's important."
Donatello said nothing, only turned and looked back at his computer. He began typing again, aware of April looking over his shoulder. He typed a little slower, wondering if she was keeping up with what he was writing.
No, it wasn't really possible to own someone.
But if it was, April would own him.