Disclaimer: I own nothing. Well, that's not exactly true, I don't own nothing, I just own nothing from this story. Except the story itself, that is.
This is set during series 1 of the new cartoon, after the Foot Ninja invade the sewers looking for the turtles and they have to stay at April's.
Donatello stood at the window, looking out at the view of the city. The top of his head rested on his hands, which pressed against the glass, blocking out the glare of the lights in the room. The view was distorted by the rain that rolled down the windowpane, each drop picking up light from the streetlights, cars and other buildings on the block.
He turned and glanced at the clock mounted on the wall behind him, 3am. This was their first night staying at April's apartment after being driven out of their home by an invasion of Foot Ninja. In the next room, his brothers and Master Splinter slept soundly, no doubt unaware of Donatello's nighttime activities. They had crashed for the night in April's sitting room, Michelangelo and Raphael sharing the couch, Splinter talking the armchair, and he and Leonardo sleeping on the floor. It was a little more crowded than they were used to, but they had had no choice. Michelangelo had suggested that he sleep in the kitchen to avoid disturbing anyone by his snoring, but April had vetoed the idea, most likely worried about what would be left in her refrigerator when she woke up. So all five found themselves sharing one room for the first time since before the turtles' second birthday, when Splinter had first let them sleep in another room to himself, hoping for a greater chance of a full night of sleep.
Crowded as it was for all of them to share the sitting room, Donatello was grateful for the closeness of his brothers and his Sensei. Each of them was fully capable of defending himself, but with the uncertainty that came of being forced from their home, having his family so close added a sense of security. It also meant that the kitchen was empty, something for which Donatello was very grateful, meaning that no one would be disturbed by his wakefulness or his movement around the room.
He had woken almost an hour earlier, and for a while lay quietly, wondering whether to try to go back to sleep or to stay awake. For several minutes, he had listened to the sounds of the night, wondering what had woken him. Mikey snored gently on the sofa, while outside, the occasional car passed by the window filling the room with a sudden burst of light, but there was something else.
He closed his eyes and listened carefully, it was quiet, difficult to identify, it almost sounded as though someone were quietly shaking a rattle outside the window. It sounded nice. Peaceful.
As quietly as he could, he got to his feet and slipped out of the door into the kitchen. The window was ajar and the curtains not completely closed, leaving a gap in the middle. Outside it was raining. From the open window, a slight breeze blew into the room, cooling the air, not too much, just enough. The window also let in the smell of the rain, a smell Donatello had only recently learned to identify. Reminiscent of soil and plants, despite being in the middle of the city, it gave the air a new and unused feel. He opened the window wider, pulled the curtains apart and took a deep breath, inhaling the cool air, then leaned forwards, looking out at the view of the city. He had seen it many times before, but, he realized now, had never had the chance to enjoy the view. Most of their time above ground was spent either fighting or constantly alert for danger. Foot Ninja, other enemies or even just passers by on the street posed a threat to them. Their lives didn't exactly allow time to enjoy the view or smell the flowers. Or even the rain.
How long he stood there, he didn't know. Time seemed to lose all meaning as he stood, lost in the experience until a noise behind him snapped him to alertness. Spinning around almost faster than the eye could perceive, he stood ready to fight in the way that only a trained ninja can be. He scanned the room for the source of the sound. It was April.
"Sorry," she said, "I didn't mean to startle you…Don?"
Donatello nodded, "It's me," he told her. Without their masks and weapons, it was difficult to tell them apart, he knew. Even Master Splinter had mistaken them once or twice. "You didn't startle me," he assured her.
"I don't know," said April, with a gleam of amusement in her eye, "you looked pretty startled to me. What are you doing out here anyway?"
"Nothing, just looking out the window."
April took a few stepped forward, placing herself next to him, "I noticed," she said, "the cold woke me up."
For the first time, Donatello noticed that her robe was pulled tightly around her, her arms hugging it into place, she was shivering slightly. He closed the window, "Sorry," he said, "I wasn't thinking. I guess we're used to colder temperatures."
"It doesn't matter," April assured him. She stood next to him, looking out of the window for a moment, "Not much of a view," she said eventually.
"I kinda like it," Don told her, "it's not often I get the chance to look at the city like this,"
"No, I don't suppose you do," April said, a note of sympathy entering her voice, "it looks much nicer when it's not raining."
Donatello smiled, "I kinda like the rain too," he told her, "we never get much chance to see that down in the sewers either. We never see any weather at all, really. It gets a little colder in the winter, a little damper when it rains a lot, but that's about it. I never really knew what rain was until I was twelve."
"I can't imagine that," April said, "it must have been so strange growing up like that."
Donatello shook his head, "Nah," he said, "for us it was normal. To me, normal humans' lives seem strange. I can't imagine what it would be like living above ground, going to school, being a normal kid."
April nodded. She glanced out of the window trying, just for a moment, to see the world as he saw it. A strange, unfamiliar place, filled with unknown dangers. Exciting, strange. New. She found that she couldn't. It was a point of view shared by a very select few members of the population of New York, and right now, every one of them happened to be in her apartment. "Do you ever wish…" She tailed off, unsure whether she should ask the question. The look in Donatello's eye told her that she should. He knew what she was going to ask, he wanted her to ask. "Do you ever wish you could be human? You know, just look like everyone else? Walk the streets in broad daylight and not have to worry about being seen?"
Donatello looked away for a moment, gazing out of the window. "Yes," he said, his eyes still firmly fixed on the view outside, "sometimes." He sighed and looked back at April, "There are things we'll never be able to do," he explained, "things everyone else just takes for granted. Just once, I'd like to be able to do those things, but…"
"But what?" asked April, curious now.
"But my life, weird as it is, well, I like it. I like being who I am. I like the bond we've got with each other and Master Splinter. I don't know how to describe it, but it's important. If we were human, we might lose that, and without it, well, I don't know who I'd be." He smiled, "Does that make any sense at all?" he asked.
April smiled back at him, "Yes, it does," she said. "You mean you don't know if what you'd gain would be worth what you'd have to give up."
"Yeah, I suppose that's it." He looked back out of the window and inhaled slowly, wondering whether he should say what he had almost said without thinking. Yes, he decided. He would. "Sometimes I dream that I become human," he told her, "not just me, all of us. Nothing much happens, but we just do normal things, things I've seen people do on TV. It's fun." He shrugged, and an almost undetectable hint of sadness entered his voice, "It doesn't make any difference though, it'll never happen."
April bit her bottom lip, unsure what to say. The silence that now filled the room was different to the silence only moments earlier. This time it seemed thicker, she was almost afraid to breathe for fear of disturbing it. She could see no reason for the sudden change in atmosphere, perhaps some change in Donatello's mood was coming across subconsciously in his body language, or perhaps it was simply her imagination. Either way, she felt that Don seemed uncomfortable with the conversation, and she was responsible for that. "I'm sorry," she said hesitantly, "I shouldn't have brought it up."
"Yes, you should," he told her, "I'm glad you did. I think about things like that sometimes, but I never talk about it," he paused, "it felt good," he added.
"Why don't you talk about it?" April asked, "I thought you guys shared everything,"
"Nah, most things, maybe, but not everything. There's some things I don't want them to know, you know?"
"As in 'Don't mention this to anyone, April'?"
Don grinned, "Something like that," he said, "their teasing can be pretty merciless, especially Mikey, and Mikey and Raph together…"
"I get the picture!" April told him, "Don't worry, my lips are sealed. But you should think about it, you might find that they feel the same way."
"I know they do," he said, "but there's no point wasting time thinking about it. After all, we were born normal turtles. If it wasn't for the mutagen, we'd have been dead long ago, and we'd never have experienced anything more than life in a bowl in some kid's room. The way things turned out, we've really got nothing to complain about."
April nodded, "I suppose that's true," she agreed, quietly.
"Besides," Donatello added, his face serious, but a smile that didn't show on his face revealing itself in his voice, "if anyone's going to start talking about this stuff, it'll be Mikey, he's the dreamer, remember? I'm the nerd."
April smiled, then covered her mouth with a hand to conceal a yawn. A glance at the clock told her that it was almost four. "I'll see you in the morning, Don," she told him, turning to leave, "have a good night,"
"Yeah, you too," he said. He watched her go, then turned back to the window. The first hints of light would soon begin to show from behind the buildings that obscured the view of the horizon. The rain was still falling, but much more gently than before, when the sound had woken him. Again, he opened the window, only slightly this time, and leaned forwards, inhaling deeply. What he had told April had been true. Within their group, each brother had his own role. Leo was the leader, Raph the realist and Mikey was the dreamer, but Donatello, he had his dreams too. They were just more private, more deeply hidden. And that, he decided, was where they would stay.