(n.) The frustration with how long it takes to get to know someone.
Over the next week, Donnie became (or rather, was forced into becoming) used to Vienna's company. For starters, she wouldn't stop peppering him with questions as he worked. Whether it was repairing machinery on the Shellraiser, or measuring the needed ingredients for another vial of retromutagen (never could have enough of the stuff), or simply scrolling through Google searches to find out how many cups of coffee it took to overdoes on caffeine (70 cups, and the most he'd ever had was 23), she was there.
"23 cups? Wow, you must've been pulling... what, three all-nighters in a row?"
"So the catalyst reacts with the enzymes, which react with the... oh wait, the catalysts are the enzymes, which help the reaction along... right?"
"You want help? I can help. Probably not holding anything, or carrying anything, my arms are about as strong as pasta noodles. But I can get you... a screwdriver. Or a wrench. You need either of those?"
And of course, when April and Casey made their next appearance to the lair, Vienna was present to introduce herself.
"Hi!" she'd greeted warmly, shaking the ginger's hand fervently and smiling cheerfully, "You must be April."
"Oh...yes, I am." April attempted to maintain her unsuspicious expression. "And you are...?"
"Vienna Bardi. Donatello's friend."
He'd wished in that moment he could've slammed his palm against his forehead so hard they'd hear it in Brooklyn. But she'd warned him beforehand she'd be introducing herself as such, so he only stood awkwardly beside her, trying to choose between a friendly smile and a stoic face.
"Ah... his friend." April looked a bit surprised. "How did you meet?"
"He broke into my studio."
"What?"
"It was an accident!" Donnie squeaked.
"I mean, I'm all the Turtles' friends, of course," Vienna amended, doubling back on herself, "Donatello's yes, but his brothers are cool too. And Fae! She's incredible... can you believe she can shape shift?"
"N..No, I..." April seemed at a loss for words.
"Where's Casey? Donnie told me about him too!"
At that, the red head had glanced over at Donnie anxiously, praying he'd given a half-decent impression of her boyfriend to the new girl.
"All good things, don't worry!" Vienna giggled. "You really think Donatello would speak badly of anyone? He's too much of a gentleman for that."
He hadn't been able to help his small chuckle of awkwardness as April agreed, "Yes, I know. Case just went out to get pizza with Raph, I think. He'll be back in about fifteen min—"
"Fifteen? Oh darn." Vienna feigned a pouty face. "I hoped he'd be here. I have to skedaddle right now, was hoping I could meet him before I went."
"Ske...? You have to leave?" April asked in bewilderment, "Why so soon?"
"Babysitting." Vienna had waved a hand dismissively. "My mom decided to dump my little sis on me, tonight of all nights! What are the odds of that, right? The night I'm supposed to meet the two other friends of my five new friends!"
"...Crazy." April laughed nervously.
"Well, just tell Casey I'll have to catch him later." Vienna had then scooped up her bag, grinning sweetly at Donnie. "Donatello, would you mind walking me home?"
"I...I-I..."
"Go ahead, Don," April had urged, "Don't want Vienna putting herself in harm's way."
"Uh...yeah, sure."
There had been no warning, no explanation, and no words as they'd walked to her place by rooftop.
That was another thing. Vienna had oodles of questions for him, but when it came to his own inquiries, Donnie was forced to exercise patience until she was ready to divulge her own secrets.
Only when she was about to bid him farewell did she murmur, "My intimidation of the ex went well, don't you think?"
Donnie faltered, nearly losing his balance on the fire escape at her unexpected words. "Say what?"
Vienna had laughed, a little snort working its way between her giggles. "Step one, make the ex see you're not hurting over their absence."
He blinked, unwilling to admit that the entire 57 seconds they'd spent in her presence had given Donnie enough time to rememorizes every placement of her freckles, every strand of auburn hair, every twitch of her cerulean orbs...
"Don't worry, you don't have to actually be over her." Her raised brow and dubious expression told him she'd caught his look of heartbroken nostalgia.
"I don't you to—"
"I want to. Besides, it was fun!"
"How could that be considered fun?" he asked, "You were rambling on and on without any—"
"Hardly rambling. I hit all the spots I needed to." She swung her legs out the window, making it clear she hadn't intended on saying goodbye to him so soon after all. "I introduced myself as a friend, which got her wondering if you and I had any chance of becoming more than that. Which we won't, but you know, us girls are obsessed with the Hollywood boy-meets-girl scenarios. It made her nervous. I also let her know that she isn't... the only fish in the sea, persay. There's other girls around you fellas, you know? Should make her feel a little on the edge. Made you look good by accentuating your chivalry and having you take me home, which is probably making her mind run rampant with what you MIGHT be doing here—"
"Okay, okay." Donnie waved his hand as a signal for her to stop. "You really think things through way too much."
"Says the genius, who can't even get through a 57 second conversation without obsessing over every detail of that girl."
His gaze hit the ground immediately.
"Sorry," she apologized, "but you know you were."
"Your observations are not always needed, you know."
"Correction. They're not always wanted."
Her intense webs of thought had him entangled. Since he'd reluctantly agreed to switch numbers with her, he'd received messages he had no idea how to reply to.
Even now, two weeks after their fateful meeting, Donnie was still contemplating her texts.
'What if a person met their soulmate at some place like Starbucks? Then anywhere you went you'd see a Starbucks and think, "that's where I met the love of my life!". It's a constant reminder of the best moment of your life.'
'What if the world's electricity was produced with smiles? Would we have a power depletion?'
'Kids are the epitome of imagination. They haven't been poisoned by society, or life. They truly believe that anything can happen, and that they could be anything. Man, I wish I was 2 again. What a life to live.'
Her random tidbits were running through his head while he fetched his morning cup of coffee. The rings beneath his russet eyes had darkened as the late-night work sessions had increased in frequency. Since Vienna had repaired the cameras surrounding the Foot headquarters, Donnie had recorded three sightings of vehicles, all taking varying routes to a destination just outside the reach of his surveillance. He figured he'd have to begin scheduling watches at the point of disappearance, outside the Brooklyn Bridge.
Donnie's T-Phone buzzed as he meandered over to the counter and nursed his drink. Another Vienna Message, he figured, yawning while he opened his phone with a click. He wondered what it would be this time. Another gentle suggestion to try green tea instead of caffeine. Or maybe a new plot in her Mission:Get Don A Date (he'd tried convincing her not to call it that, to no avail). Most likely another string of thought that she'd typed up quickly to share with him.
'U have some clothes I can borrow?'
Just as he expected, another indecipherable, existential...
Wait.
Donatello frowned, skimming over the message again. Had to be autocorrect. But the structure of the crudely-typed text was legitimate enough.
His thumbs moved lazily, poking at the buttons and spelling out:
'uh...why?'
Her reply was a picture, a selfie of herself, her glasses smeared with water spots, her eyeliner running, her hair a soaking mop atop her head, clad in a dripping wet white sundress.
A sundress. He'd only ever seen her in jeans and a t-shirt.
She looked nice.
But that was beside the point.
The point was, that dripping wet sundress had to be completely transparent by now; and as much as he would've loved avoiding any situation having to do with a barely-familiar girl in a soaked white dress, Donnie knew that that same soaked girl wandering through the streets of NYC like that was asking for trouble.
'I'll try to find something.'
'Thanks Donatello.'
Even in texts, she refused to use his shortened name. Though, if he was being truthful, it was nice to hear 'Donatello' without some negative, disappointed, or bored connotation attached to it.
By the time Vienna slinked into the lair, Donnie had already managed to ask himself why she was so soaked in the first place, why she was coming to him for help, and why he'd agreed to this in the first place. With the minimal amount of gear they wore, he'd only managed to scrounge up a tattered XXXL Yankees sweatshirt, a pair of boxing shorts that Raph had outgrown long ago, and a spare wrist guard. If she was hoping for something borderline stylish to wear, a lair of teenage mutant boys was certainly not the place to seek assistance.
"Donatello?" Her voice had lost its blunt and questioning quip, and had given way to the meek whimper of embarrassment.
"Coming!" he called, carrying his meager findings along with him into the living room and keeping his gaze politely averted.
"Where are the others?" she asked, reaching for the clothes and hiding behind them as she shook out her hair and set down her purse.
"Raph and Mikey went to April's to help her dad move some new furniture into the house. Leo and Fae went on another date...last night. I have no idea where they are, or what they're doing."
"So it's just us." Donnie could hear the smile in her tone. "Cool! Umm... bathroom?"
"Down the hall, to the right."
He heard her feet, which had now abandoned her wet canvas shoes, pattering across the floor as she sought refuge and privacy. He went back to sipping his coffee, decide to opt for mindless channel surfing before Vienna left and he was forced back into work mode.
His eye caught the sound of music from one film being played, and he was amused by the starry-eyed actress and ruggedly handsome actor tap-dancing in the faint light of a street lamp. It had a charming vintage vibe to it, despite being made only last year.
"I love this one!"
Donnie was jarred out of analysis by Vienna's reentry. She was practically drowning in the sweatshirt she'd borrowed, the boxing shorts peeking out from beneath the hem, looking like an oddly colored skirt billowing around her knees. Her dress was now folded over her arm, the wrist guard goofily tied 'round her ankle. Her hair was piled atop her head in a perfectly messy bun, and her once painted lips and lined eyes now devoid of any makeup.
"Do you? It just turned up, looked interesting," he explained, standing up and taking her stack of clothes for her. "These will dry faster if you lay them out."
"I know, I figured I'd ask first instead of splaying my things out on the floor all wonky without your permission." Vienna smiled, helping him to spread the dress and tiny socks on the ground.
"And...why did you need this change of clothes in the first place?" Donnie carefully inquired.
"Oh, right. I saved a duck."
"A...duck?"
"Yeah! I was walking home from the bookstore." She rose up, her shoulders slumping as her voice turned mysteriously low. "All was quiet. As quiet as it could be in the streets of NYC. When suddenly... BAM!" She jumped at him, making the turtle jump. "I noticed this helpless little duckling in the middle of the road. The cars were whizzing by, putting this little thing in danger! I swooped into the middle of traffic, scooped up the poor duckling, and ushered it to the pond in Central Park. My heart was beating so fast! Like..." She reached forward, thumping against his plastron rapidly to mimic her own pulse and at the same time initiating his own palpitations. "I'd managed to track down the mother, and valiantly waded into the water to return the duck to its family."
"...That's not what happened."
Vienna giggled sheepishly, tapping Donnie's forehead teasingly. "You're sharp as a tack. No, I was just clumsy. Went out for a day in the park and fell in. Thankfully all my stuff was by the tree, I wanted to wade barefoot, but I lost my footing."
"Ah." He couldn't help the small chuckle that escaped him. "And you came to me because...?"
"Because you're my friend, and I wanted to see you. Figured this would be a good way to get your head out of the computers." Vienna shrugged, her eyes wandering back to the television. "You've never seen that movie before? They're calling it the musical film of the century."
"Musical?" Donnie wrinkled his nose and tried to dismiss the small smile creeping onto his face. "I'm more of a National Geographic kind of guy."
"It's not the typical musical, I promise," she told him, settling on the couch and patting the cushion next to her for him to sit. "It's about a struggling actress and musician. They fall in love and—"
"Enough said," Donnie huffed, plopping down and grabbing the remote.
"Falling in love is not to be frowned upon," Vienna reprimanded, reaching out to turn the channel back to the movie.
"Whatever." He held the remote above his head, continuing to drink his coffee while V struggled toward the channel changer.
"Don't 'whatever' me," she scolded, climbing onto his shoulder and then sprawling across his lap in her attempts, "Love is beautiful! And once-in-a-lifetime, and—"
"Completely overrated." Donatello set his empty mug down as she stretched her hands upwards. "You talk about love like someone who's never experienced an actual relationship."
"In that, your conclusion is valid," she sighed, "but... you felt it, didn't you? When she walked in the room, didn't your heart fill up? And when she smiled, didn't it ignite something inside you? You don't miss that at all?"
He hadn't thought of love that way. Every time she'd walked in the room, he'd been hoping Casey wasn't following in directly after her. When she smiled, it never felt like that beautiful grin was directed at him.
Vienna had given up her pursuit, laying on her back, on his thighs, ignoring the obvious invasion of personal space. "I don't think you miss her. I think you miss love. You're..." She thought a moment. "Blaming the constant, when the manipulated variable is the one responsible for affecting the dependent variable. The dependent variable being your feelings."
"Love is not a constant," he argued, wincing internally at how geeky he really was to understand that analogy flawlessly.
"It is! It's always there. You don't love your brothers? Your father? Your mother?"
"Loving a brother is a different kind of love. I never had a mom. And my father..." Donnie stopped himself, words evading him suddenly when his heart felt like it was being crushed in an iron grip.
"Oh dear." Vienna sat up, her brow wrinkled with concern. "I didn't mean to pry."
"It's fine." The genius took a deep breath, hoping to break past the barrier constricting his breaths and causing tears to well in his eyes. "My father died."
Vienna's eyes averted, and she bit her lip, at a loss for words for the first time. "I won't say I'm sorry. I know that's not what you need to hear."
It wasn't, and for once, Donnie appreciated her forethought.
"I'm here if you need someone to talk to..." she continued.
He wouldn't take her up on the offer, he promised himself.
"Thanks," he managed anyway.
The only sounds heard came from the UFC fight that had accidentally been switched on by the tussle over the remote. It was beginning to suffocate him, making his heart thud uncomfortably, the cloud of grief hanging over them proving too much to bare. And he found himself craving some sort of relief, some sound to fill the gap beyond the grunts and guttural cheers of a televised crowd.
"You want to help me so badly. With April, I mean," he observed, intertwining his fingers in various ways to distract from his nervous attempt at conversation-making, "...Why?"
"Because I've been there. I am there." Her reply was matter-of-fact, to the point... anxious.
Donnie decided to press further. "You? You couldn't possibly be in my position."
"Oh?" Vienna challenged, "And what do you know of the possibilities of love, Donatello? Heck, what right do either of us have to accuse the other of being second to our strife? We're both deep in the muck of heartbreak, I assure you."
"You're too poetic for your own good." Donnie's mouth pricked upwards. "You're skirting the subject."
"Let's just say, three months of waiting for a fairytale to come true doesn't compare to seven years."
He blew out an unamused laugh. "You think what's happening to me was caused over a three-month span? Try five years. Five years of waiting."
She smirked, tapping his nose as she rose from her seat. "I've still got you beat."
Vienna strode toward the kitchen, as if that would stop that would stop his competitive need to one-up her. Donnie followed after the brunette, persisting, "You don't know everything that happened in those five years! I've gone through hell and back!"
"You don't know what happened in my seven years," Vienna fired back, trailing her hands over the cabinets, deciding which she would raid for snacks.
Donnie leaned his hands on the counter, her unbudging elusiveness beginning to irk him. "You're impossible."
"You don't open up, so neither will I," she said, pulling down a cereal box and spooning chocolate bits into her mouth with her hand. "You're not telling anyone, everything."
"Because that crap is personal."
"So is my crap."
"I'm trying to relate to you—"
"You can't relate if you won't unload your own emotional baggage."
Donatello threw his hands in the air, turning and leaning against the counter, listening to her content chews as the suffocating silence started to return.
"What's it like to be kissed, Donatello?"
Now he was devoid of air for a different reason. He looked at back at Vienna, his eyes wide and puzzled. She stared down at the cereal box in her hands, her eyes just barely hidden by the thick black frames that had slid down her nose.
"I..." He swallowed, turning to face her, maintaining a straight face.
"Don't lie to me."
He hadn't even gotten two words out, and already she'd perceived his choice to keep the truth from her. Her request was soft though, and she bashfully kept her gaze on the chocolate bites cupped between her fingers.
"...It's nice."
"Nice? That's all I get? C'mon, I'm living vicariously through you, Donatello! You gotta give me something to look forward to! More than 'it was nice'!"
"Why are you so curious? Haven't you been kissed before?" he diverted, "and why would you live vicariously through me, of all people?!"
She frowned, stalking around the counter with that unwavering gaze that made him take a few steps back. Her goofy attire no longer played a part in making her any less intimidating, as she set down the cereal box with a vengeance and puffed up her chest, craning her neck up to look at him.
"Why not?"
Donnie tried to maintain a fairly confident air. "You're going to make me list the reasons?"
"Oh, no. That was purely rhetorical. I'll provide the list myself."
"Oh, joy."
"You're smart. You're handsome — don't deny it!" Vienna gave him a glare.
"I'm a mutant—!"
"Like it matters! Don't interrupt. You've had far more experience, and I have far more know-how. Our knowledge combined will forge into some ultimate... thing. You adventure, and create, and use that stick—"
"Bō staff—"
"—to help people! To make a difference! And I..." Vienna stopped, her shoulders lowering as the energy left her. "I want to make a difference. And I haven't yet."
"You surely can make more of a difference than any of us could down here."
"See, this is what I'm talking about!" Vienna shouted, frustrated. "You don't think you're enough? You've saved the world, Donnie. You've made all these things, and your heart is so kind... and I knew that just by looking at you! Why can't you see it in yourself? Why don't you think you're enough?"
"Look, you can just hold it with the false compliments, alright?" Donnie pushed back from the counter, stomping out. "Nothing I haven't heard before! 'You're smart, Don, you're kind, Don, you've got everything a girl wants, Don!' "
"Well, you do."
"I said, cut the crap!" he snarled, "If that was true, none of this would've happened. She'd be here, she wouldn't need him, I'd be enough..."
His words tumbled out before he could control them. Donatello stopped in place, fists clenched and eyes floor-bound. He slowly turned, knowing that no amount of space between them would stop Vienna from asking.
"She cheated on you, didn't she?" The brunette's voiced was tight with tears, and that was the only thing that compelled him to meet her gaze. She seemed genuinely distressed, her eyes glistening, her lower lip trembling.
"Didn't she?" she repeated.
Her eyes burned gray now, storm clouds of sadness brewing within her irises. Not pity. Not sympathy. Sadness, like she'd been the one on the receiving end of the bullet April had shot through Donnie's heart that night.
He didn't dare say anything. His fortress of isolation and brooding was crashing down, and he had no desire to fuel that demolition.
"No. I've never been kissed," Vienna whispered, "The boy I wanted to share that with is on the other side of the world. I know all about what people think because I've spent my life sitting on the sidelines. I'm from Cannon Beach, Oregon, one of the least populated towns in the U.S.. And even there I couldn't stand out. I want love, but I'm scared of that love ending. I'm scared of sharing your experiences. You are my friend, Donatello. No matter how much you don't want to listen to my rambling, or my annoying rants, I'm not gonna stop fighting to make sure you never have to hurt. That's what friends do. I want you to remember what love feels like, because it's beautiful, and maybe living through its pain is better than never having it happen to you at all."
She stepped forward, hugging him, smelling of drying book pages and watercolors. Her soft cheek pressed gently against his collar bone, but the contact didn't make him flinch or shy away. Donnie found himself sliding his arm about her, his hands resting against her shoulder blades.
He felt wetness on his shoulder, and he knew Vienna had shed a few tears. Not weeping, or bawling, like he'd dealt with when he'd comforted his brothers when the world fell apart, or when family was ripped from them. Only gentle tears, reminders that she wasn't pretending, that she wasn't afraid to unmask her feelings.
Eventually, Vienna murmured, "A truth for a truth..."
He took a deep breath, though the restraint was no longer needed, he knew. "I couldn't even register my first kiss. I was so busy rejoicing that April didn't think of me as a freak, that I didn't even she'd kissed me until she walked away."
"I've heard most people want to forget their first kiss," she murmured, "Maybe you can count it as the universe's kindness. Maybe your second will be better."
"Second." he repeated with a bit of a bitter chuckle. But he figured arguing with her on that point would get him nowhere.
"And what happened to make you want to forget April altogether?" she queried further.
"I caught the two of them. We'd only been going out a few weeks. I showed up early, and saw Casey practically sucking her face off." Donnie frowned. "I know I'm not the ideal date. Even with a normal face and a normal life, I wouldn't exactly be a lady magnet, like you say I am."
He buried his own lips in her hair, knowing he wouldn't be able to stop himself if he continued to narrate how regretful he was that he couldn't recall the singular moment all his dreams had come true.
All he could remember now was the dreams falling apart.
"You gotta cheer up, pal," she proclaimed, stepping back and wiping her eyes with a smile. "Step one: get rid of the ex, get happy, become at peace with life, yada yada yada. Step two: find one guy and one gal who'll actually date our sorry asses."
He couldn't help but laugh, returning her grin tentatively. Here they were, making some pact based on a few fun facts they'd exchanged of their sob stories. "Sounds like a plan."