((A.N. - Okay, so I've been kind of dead on here... and that's on me. HOWEVER, despite what it seems, I did NOT forget about Talons! I'll be honest, I read back on previous chapters and cringe, but I'll explain more about that later; the next chapter should be posted around Friday or Saturday if I'm lucky.
Anyway, this is a little side-project I've had on hold for about a year or so; it's another comic I turned into a story for my own amusement. I couldn't really break it up into smaller chapters, so it's just a long one-shot :/ Anyway, here are the credits:
Story by Ian Flynn, Art by Coleman Engle.))
Long shadows stretched and danced their way across the bustling roads of New York, their darkening blue hue serving as a warning to all those still outside: nightfall was approaching fast. From high overhead, the sun-streaked horizon slowly melted into a canvas of deep indigo, dotted with distant, burning stars.
A little while later, the response came: bright, neon signs and flashing lights flickered on in every window of every towering skyscraper.
The city came alive.
All the innocent people below chatted away, laughing and going about their business like nothing was out of the ordinary. It was almost cute how oblivious they were. Totally and blissfully ignorant to the dangers that lurked on every rooftop, in every dark alleyway... and just under their feet.
They'd never know about the Foot Clan or all the mutants running loose, and even if they did find out, who would honestly believe it? It sounded surreal on paper, but in reality, it was just plain crazy.
That was why it was just better for all the citizens to never realise what was really going on.
But... tonight was not like other nights.
Another set of uneventful patrols had come and gone, leaving both the streets above and lair below with quite the amount of uncharacteristic silence.
Well, 'silence' in terms of 'mutant activity', as strangely enough, there had been no signs of Shredder's goons or the Purple Dragons.
In fact, lower Manhattan was… alright for once.
So, to make the claim that it was an odd change of pace, especially considering what the brothers were used to on a daily basis, was a major understatement: training, patrolling, fighting, getting bruised and cut, returning underground, more training and another round of patrol before a possible fight and… cue next day.
The Big Apple was (and always had been) a much different story than the lair. Relentless evening training, as well as the sessions (yes, plural) of randori, were enough to make even the most skilled ninjas tired.
Still, the four brothers always found time in their schedule to goof off, watch TV or play video games and just relax for an hour or two. But without any bots to bash or mutants to hunt down, their patrolling was cut to a measly twenty minutes, and Splinter was more than willing to extend their training to three hours… or more.
They were all exhausted... and sore. It made the rest of their day rather... tedious.
Evenings this calm and peaceful were few and far in between, and to one turtle in particular, it made the pains and aches an acceptable price to pay for some silence… and to keep his brothers out of the lab.
And, so far, the extra training had done its job wonderfully.
Steadily, Donatello finished adding the last few drops of an orange-coloured liquid into a larger beaker.
He had spent the entirety of the evening cooped up inside of the lab, and not even once did one of his three brothers barge in uninvited! This Tuesday was practically a gift from the heavens! No one to torment him with news of training or that something needed fixing… or even worse: a new pizza topping. He had already learned from past experience to never put anything Mikey made himself into his mouth.
At least, not without running a few tests to check its possible radioactivity first.
Shuddering, Donnie was only pulled back into reality once the half-filled beaker in his hands darkened into a reddish colour. He studied the enclosed liquid closely before a wide grin decorated his usually tired face.
"Ahh, the life of a scientist," He sighed out to nobody in particular, pushing himself and his swivel chair away from the desk. "We scientifically inclined are neither a 'glass-half-full' type nor a 'glass-half-empty' type."
He slid toward an overly-crowded counter just to his left, packed with dozens of vials and canisters of all shapes and sizes.
Such organised chaos.
His smile widened until his gap was visible. "We know that it's completely full. Just some of the contents are in a liquid state, and the others are in a vapour state!"
Careful as to not spill the contents of the beaker, he slowly brought it to eye level and observed the small bubbles forming around the edges.
He then caught sight of a discarded spoon on the counter, presumably left over from one of his previous experiments, and picked it up. Luckily, it had already been washed and thoroughly cleansed; he patiently stirred the contents and hummed contently.
His mind began to wander.
Over the span of his seventeen years of age, he had concluded that it just wasn't possible for the lair to be… dead silent. In fact, if he hadn't been so bent on finishing the experiment, he might have even thought something was wrong. The group's daily boisterous chorus always seemed to be playing in the background of his day while he worked, like white noise.
But now, there seemed to be none of it.
And, shell, was he thankful for that change.
Donnie reclined into the padded chair and sighed, feeling every muscle in his body relax with comfort. It was a bit of a challenge, especially since the seat hadn't been designed for someone with a large shell on their back, but boy did this beat another hour of training by a long shot.
It was nice to finally have time to just sit down and not have to worry about Mikey pestering his various tests or Raph threatening him to hurry up fixing his Stealth Bike or Leo pressuring him to meditate.
Everything was up to him.
"Now then," He refocused his brain, sitting up in the chair. "If I've isolated the polymer properly, this should-"
"Hey, Donnie!"
The lab doors suddenly opened; he jolted at the sound.
Well, so much for having time to relax. He miserably thought, recognising the voice immediately; his heart was still pounding away in his chest. But... I swore I had locked those doors.
He turned in his seat to face Leonardo, watching as he stepped foot into the huge room; he glanced around.
And... walked right in.
Without... asking first.
Donnie's eye twitched.
"Uh… little busy here, Leo." He didn't even bother trying to hide the irritation from his voice, watching as the leader hurried from one side of the lab to the other, occasionally halting to throw open a few cabinets as though he were searching for something; he made no moves to explain what he was up to.
As the scientist quietly observed his brother frantically rummage through his many miscellaneous drawers, he couldn't help but feel irked that he did not even once pause to ask if he had permission.
Eventually, Donnie set the beaker aside on the desk and loudly cleared his throat.
Finally, Leo's gaze found its way towards him, and he stared back... almost surprised. Like he wasn't expecting his brother to be right there.
Leo chuckled nervously.
"Ah, sorry!" He apologised with a smile, rubbing the back of his head as he gently closed the drawer. "It's just that I'm supposed to be doing my katas with Sensei… and I've lost one of my swords."
Donnie rolled his eyes.
If he hadn't been so miserable about his work being disturbed, he would have laughed at his leader's unusual daftness for somehow believing his misplaced katana could be stashed away in the lab.
"You lost one of your swords?" Donnie echoed, sounding unimpressed. He slouched down in the chair and continued watching Leo ransack more of his cabinets. "What happened? Did you get into a rooftop fight with the Foot Clan when I wasn't looking?"
A miffed snort answered him.
"Stick to your chemistry jokes, those are almost funny. And I didn't lose it…" Leo corrected defensively, beginning to sort through a bin of vials directly beside where Donnie was seated. "So much as Mikey 'borrowed' it."
Donnie shrugged almost sympathetically.
Almost.
"He 'borrowed' a magnifying glass once." He used his fingers to make air quotes around the word 'borrowed'. "I found it three months later, covered in jam and pepperoni. There was practically no salvaging it, so I just ended up throwing it out after that."
"Uh-huh…" Leo was making it painfully obvious he wasn't listening as his search took him to the cupboard above the younger brother's head.
"But anyway," Donnie said, propping his head up with his hand; he needed to find a way to drive his brother out of the lab. Now.
The experiment wasn't going to finish itself!
"He hasn't been here lately. And I'm kind of in the middle of something…?"
This time, whether it was the irritated tone or his inability to relocate the katana, the words finally seemed to worm their way into Leonardo's head; he took the hint and began to retreat out of the room.
Or perhaps, it had been the work of the several detailed posters of both human and turtle anatomy scattered on the walls…
"Fine," Leo muttered over his shoulder, dusting his hands off on his thighs. "If you see it, let me know."
"Yeah-uh-huh-whatever-you-say-bye!" Donnie called after him, his sentence turning into one, long word. He had already turned himself back around toward his computer, trusting that Leo would be considerate enough to not search any longer.
Thankfully, all he heard were fading footsteps accompanied by the sound of the metal doors shutting, leaving him once again alone with the empty, pleasant silence he had oh, so missed.
He let out a heavy breath, feeling much more at ease without the presence of another body in such close proximity to his precious experiment. Without wasting another moment, he re-focused his attention back on where he had left off; he typed out a few notes before pausing.
He glanced toward the beaker.
"Alright, so… did I need a catalyst for this next step?" He wondered aloud.
When an answer didn't immediately pop into his brain, he reached over the desk toward a thick stack of books and selected one near the top, carefully pulling it out as to not disturb the others and cause the whole thing to topple.
He plopped the book into his lap and flipped through a few pages, eyes searching each word with interest.
Eventually, he stopped paging through to rub the back of his neck, where a sudden breeze of cool air had bothered the skin. He didn't allow his gaze to falter as the sound of faint footsteps began to draw nearer as he brought his hand back and-
Wait….
"Gah! What was-?" Donnie let out a yelp, barely having time to react before getting pulled into a playful, yet significantly rough, headlock.
It didn't take a genius to figure out who had disturbed him this time around.
Two crimson mask tails floating in and out of his sight; Raphael stood next to him, 'affectionately' rubbing one of his knuckles on the top of the younger brother's head.
It was a rather unpleasant welcome.
"Hey there," He greeted with a smile, refusing to let his barbaric grip loosen even with Donnie profusely struggling underneath it.
"I'm bored. How 'bout you?" Raph asked, still not letting go.
The other turtle tried to reply, he really did, but with his older brother's arm practically slung around his shoulder and throat, it was a challenge to communicate. He tried to speak, tried to scold him, but all that came out were incomprehensible sounds.
And Raph simply tossed salt into his wounds when he noticed this.
"What? I can't hear you." He patronised in a sing-songy voice. "You might wanna speak up."
"Argh! Raph!" Donnie finally managed to sputter out, still squirming against his brother.
Suddenly, a window of opportunity surfaced: for whatever reason, Raph's iron grip seemed to slacken ever-so-slightly. Without even wasting time to think, Donnie reacted on pure instinct, shoving his way out of the clutches of the temperamental turtle's arms.
He coughed a bit, regaining his voice before turning to glare at the smirking ninja.
He was busy. Wasn't that obvious? Couldn't they all just leave him alone for a minute? The experiment was already stressing him out as it was, but now he had to worry about this nonsense?
Making sure avoid giving Raph another chance to invade his personal space, Donnie jutted his arm out toward the doors of the lab, pointing with a furious expression on his face.
"Out!" He shouted.
In the back of his mind, he knew the probability of getting pulled into another 'hug' was growing the more he showed annoyance. Heck, he was even expecting to straight up get punched in the shoulder... or face.
But none of that came.
Instead, to his absolute surprise, the demand was followed almost at once... was he seeing this right? And by the rebel of the group?
Raphael wasn't even fazed at Donnie's sudden burst of anger; he just rolled his eyes and scoffed. If anything, he seemed even more uninterested than when he arrived.
Wheeling right around, he placed his hands behind his head and took his leave. "Of course! What was I thinking, coming to you for fun?" He muttered softly to himself before calling over his shoulder; "Just make sure to fix my Stealth Bike soon, beanpole!"
He made a beeline for the exit, and the sound of the two laboratory doors slamming shut indicated he had left... but more importantly, hadn't broken anything.
Donnie let out a frustrated sigh as he turned back around in his chair, taking a moment to collect himself before reaching down for the book he had accidentally dropped onto the floor.
He placed it on his lap and opened to the table of contents, trying to ignore the nagging pain above his forehead. As his eyes scanned over the words, he gingerly rubbed the top of his aching head where Raph had grinded his knuckles.
"Ah! Ouch..." He winced as his fingertips made contact; the doctor side of him concluded he would be left a few dark bruises, but nothing permanent.
Great.
Now he was miserable and hurt.
"H'okay… so catalyst or no catalyst…?" He mumbled out, all previous enthusiasm drained and replaced by fatigue.
It took nearly all of his mental strength to try and focus on the thousands of letters jumbling around on the page. But none of the sentences seemed to make any sense as he read over them. He just couldn't focus his attention on anything right now, meaning it would truly be a miracle if he were to finish half of the experiment at the incredibly slow rate he had set.
It was practically a turtle's pace, as ironic as that was.
He paged through the textbook, finally reaching the part of the chapter he had been searching for. His face lit up; that little victory was all he needed right then to relax. Smiling at the slight progress, he even allowed himself to sink back into the seat, eyes reading over each word with genuine, growing interest.
So far so good; he had calmed down.
Maybe now, he'd finally get back to-
The doors opened.
"And this, Ice Cream Kitty, is Donnie's lab! You remember this place, don'cha?"
What luck he seemed to have today.
Instantly gnawing on his bottom lip to avoid swearing, Donnie no longer found himself startled like all the previous times someone had barged in uninvited.
Instead, now he was just ticked off.
He roughly shut the book in his lap and threw it back onto the counter, rubbing his forehead as he felt the beginning pains of a migraine taking form; he mentally hoped that Mikey would leave, that he'd notice how unwanted he was right then and just turn around and leave.
But was it even worth repeating how bad his luck was today?
Before Donnie even had a chance to protest (or even turn around for that matter), the youngest brother raced right up next to him to place the red-and-white cooler filled with what had once been April's cat down onto the desk. He unintentionally pushed aside a few beakers in the process of making room for his pet, blissfully unaware that he had nearly spilled Donnie's experiment in the process.
"And this, Ice Cream Kitty, is where you were born! I mean - mutated! Same thing, basically." Mikey corrected with a wide smile as he gestured around the tabletop.
And the multi-flavoured frozen cat glanced around with wide eyes, cheerfully meowing.
Though he wasn't the biggest fan of the family's 'pet', Donnie would have allowed her to stay in his lab for a short while, though under strict supervision.
Would have.
Now, however, as he watched the melted, sticky ice cream drip from the feline's whiskers and onto the tools he took great care of keeping out of harms's way and (most importantly) clean, he couldn't help but feel both nauseous and aggravated at the same time.
"Michelangelo," Donnie passive-aggressively growled. "Are you getting mutated biomass all over my precision instruments?"
Though he didn't get nor expect an answer, the sight of Mikey tensing up from fear was enough to satisfy him.
The youngest ninja did, however, open his mouth to speak, but one look at his older brother's face quickly caused him to decide against it. And so, before he could be scolded again, he seized the cooler and scampered toward the exit.
But just as he reached the doors to the lab, a new, bright smile was already on his face once more.
"Let's get out of here!" He whispered to his cat. "When he starts using big words - like my name - you know he's mad!"
The genius turtle watched the two like hawks as they departed, though Mikey did politely shut the door on the way out.
And just like that, (for the third time), he was alone; Donnie grimaced and grabbed the book he had set aside from the counter.
The only difference now was, he wasn't angry… he was fuming.
"Now then," He threw the book open to a random chapter, not even sure what he was searching for anymore.
All of his previous concentration had been shattered; he was even too stubborn to check his notes for reference. He was so lost in the steps, so distracted.
"Do I need-"
"Mikey!"
He spun around his chair.
Without warning, the laboratory doors forcefully flew open, loudly slamming into the wall as a pair of frantic, shouting voices barged right in after. His head jerked toward where a blur of green and orange flew past him so fast that his neck creaked. And then he spotted red.
Oh, no.
They were back.
They had come in the lab again.
Without asking.
Again.
And, just as before, there had been no knock beforehand.
Donnie stiffened in his seat, his attempts at keeping his temper under control turning more and more challenging. Is it really that difficult to just ... ask to come in? Am I the one in the wrong here? Am I the one being rude? Or is it just that nobody in this family respects the privacy of others anymore?
He slowly closed the book in his lap, moved it back to the counter, and dropped his head in his hands. He miserably listened to Mikey's protests as he tore through the lab, Raph right on his heels and shouting angrily after him. Loudly.
All their remarks bounced off the walls.
"I didn't do it!" Mikey deflected the accusation with a wild grin, still clutching his precious cooler as he vaulted over a nearby desk. A few of the vials rattled and shook as his feet knocked into the side, using the flat metal as a launchpad.
It was a miracle he hadn't disturbed any of the fragile glass equipment... but Raph was still after him. Stuck in a fit of blind rage, he leaped over the same table with much less grace or care, and some of the containers nearly smashed onto the floor; Donnie's head jerked up.
"I saw you throw that!" Raph insisted furiously, gesturing to the plastic remains of a yellow water balloon stuck to the top of his head.
"Nuh-uh!" Mikey argued right back. "I've got my hands full carrying this triple-flavoured cuteness!"
He held the cooler filled with the mutant ice cream feline over his head as he hopped over another table; only this time, it was the one Donnie had placed the isolated polymer onto.
His experiment.
Donnie held his breath in absolute terror, brain floundering with its options.
Somehow, and he didn't care to know how, the clumsiest of all the brothers managed to nimbly step around the various beakers before landing on the floor and racing away toward where Timothy was kept in a frozen state; but he was looping back around.
"Grr… I'll tighten your bandana until your eyes bug out!" Raph threatened, practically shoving his way past the desk and causing it to rock on its tiny legs, disturbing everything that innocently lied there.
Donnie yelped, snapping out of his frozen, panicked state to quickly settle the table back down to avoid further accidents.
But through all of the chaos that ensued, he hadn't even noticed that had Leo snuck in, adding to the already out-of-control problem as he too began to chase Mikey along side Raph.
"Mikey, where did you put my sword?!"
Unfortunately, Leo's sudden outburst caught Mikey completely off-guard; it seemed that Donnie wasn't the only turtle surprised by their leader's arrival.
"Huh?"
Mikey abruptly halted in his tracks just as his feet hit the edge of the desk, his head twisted to look over his shoulder. But without the previous momentum, he wobbled, and his footing slipped. A sharp gasp tore from his throat.
And time seemed to slow.
He awkwardly fell to the floor, sending both the cooler and Ice Cream Kitty high into the air. His shoulder slammed into the side of the metal table, causing it to skid backwards… and everything that once sat on top began to fall.
Vials rolled off, but otherwise remained intact, along with tweezers, cups, a burner and a pair of old goggles.
But they weren't what the four were staring with wide, frantic eyes: the beaker filled with Donnie's experiment was airborne as well.
And in a state of sudden panic, no one was able to even move a muscle.
Ice Cream Kitty was yowling.
The gravity of the situation (no pun intended) pulled them back into reality.
Just before the frozen cat and her portable home smashed onto the ground, Raph dove forward after it; with no time to spare, he snagged the cooler in sturdy hands, falling straight onto his plastron with a grunt.
But Donnie's experiment wasn't as lucky; it did not have anyone close enough nor quick enough to catch it.
A split second passed.
And then it collided with the solid ground, completely shattering.
The glass fractured into hundreds of tiny, sharp pieces, and the liquid inside spilled out onto the floor.
Rendering it completely useless.
Contaminated.
A tense silence fell upon the brothers as they all stared wide-eyed at the mess before them, not exactly sure how to respond.
Donnie's forefinger twitched.
I'm… I'm gonna have to start… all over. He realised, his mouth suddenly dry. S-seven hours of hard work… and it was all for nothing. It's ruined. And the beaker is broken too… all because… because some people couldn't stay out-
Something snapped inside of the usual pacifist.
His patience dwindled down to nothing; he spun around in the chair to face his wide-eyed brothers.
"That's it!"
Donnie fumed, shouting with such hostility in his voice that he easily caught their attention.
He stood bolt upright, snagging his trusted bo staff from behind the desk; he raised the weapon high over his head, and using all of his remaining strength, swung it wildly at the others.
Taken aback, they all scattered out of his way to try and avoid getting whacked.
"Get out! Leave! Vacate the premises! I. AM. TRYING. TO. WORK!" Donnie demanded, completely livid by this point. He heard a satisfying clunk as the wooden staff made contact with the top of Raph's carapace.
"I don't deserve this!" Raph protested as he tried to shield himself with the cooler. "I- ow! I saved the cat!"
"But my sword…!" Leo tried to reason, but was quickly shut up with a hard smack to the back of the head.
It was more than clear their brother wasn't going to listen anytime soon.
Donnie followed them to the mouth of the lab, weapon held up in a position which showed he was prepared to strike again if need be. He glared as they emptied out into the TV room, grumbling under their breath and tenderly rubbing their bruised flesh.
His heart was still hammering beneath his plastron, and he took a moment to regain his breath; he moved the staff to his left hand, freeing up the other to shut and lock the lab doors.
No one was getting in without his permission now.
But just as he gripped the handle, he noticed Mikey, the epitome of a walking disaster, creeping up toward him. He nervously halted only inches away from the door frame, an embarrassed smile pressed on his lips as he stumbled over his words.
"Oh! Wait-wait-wait!" He repeated nervously, holding up his hands as if to show he was unarmed.
"What?" Donnie questioned, uninterested. "I'm giving you to the count of five to explain yourself."
Mikey let out an anxious laugh, switching his weight from one foot to the other. "Uh… we're still on for that marshmallow and banana pizza, right? Like, later on today? I mean, tonight, 'cause-"
Yeah, no.
Without even letting him finish, Donnie immediately slammed the heavy doors shut.
He stormed back to his desk and propped his staff up on the wall; then, with a groan, he plopped down into the seat and swung an arm over his face.
His mind began to wander.
I'll have to clean up the mess… He let out an exhausted breath through his nose. I don't want anyone to step on the glass. That'll just cause more problems. Like they're aren't enough already...
He knew the rags were in the bottom drawer, and the sink was practically a foot away. But even then, he couldn't find the energy to move a single muscle.
He was suddenly so incredibly… tired.
On the bright side, though, he finally had what he had been looking for! The sound of absolutely nothing.
No Raph shouting at the top of his lungs, no Mikey protesting something that he obviously did, and no Leo ordering the others to shut up.
Everything was quiet, just the way he liked it.
Just the way it should be.
Donnie slowly lowered his arm and blinked open his eyes; there was no one around but him. He turned to face his computer, lightly tapping the mouse so the dark screen would activate; all of his notes reappear on the monitor.
His reports.
They were all there.
He weakly smiled; at least his written work was still intact.
And not only that, but he finally had privacy! It had taken quite a while, but it had all been well worth the long wait…
He winced at the words, glancing over toward where the shattered beaker and liquid lay splattered over the ground.
"Okay, so maybe 'worth it' is too strong of a word." He turned back around. "I mean, I guess I can start over... it shouldn't take more than a few hours to whip up another batch."
He stopped talking, almost expecting a voice to criticise his planning; but all that answered back was a soft echo of his own words. And then, just silence...
His enthusiasm flooded back.
"Oh, at last!" Donnie sighed out in satisfaction, fingers plucking at the keyboard. "Peace and quiet!"
He saved the file. "Yessir, that blissful sound of nothing."
Without any more distractions, he could head into studying up on whether he needed a catalyst for the next stage of the test! All he needed to do now was clean up the mess, and get right back to work!
He opened up his notes, cracking his knuckles and placing his fingers just inches above the keyboard.
And he sat there.
A muddled expression settled upon his face.
He fingers didn't move.
Something was… off.
Not quite right.
He shook his head, trying to rid himself of the feeling. I'm just being paranoid.
But over what?
He knew for a fact that besides the mess of shattered glass in the centre of the lab, there was nothing wrong with the room. The surveillance cameras set up around the sewers were all operational, the Shellraiser had new heavy-duty tires installed, he had fixed the toaster for the eight time since Monday, and Mikey's video game system had been repaired only a week ago.
So… why did the atmosphere feel so... off?
Like it was missing something, dare he say, crucial?
Donnie glanced over his shoulder, gaze falling upon the empty, soundless room. A single pin dropping onto the floor would have sounded like an entire orchestra.
Silence.
He... liked it.
So what was so wrong about it?
Groaning, Donnie placed his head on the keyboard of the computer, not at all bothered by the random letters that popped up on screen as a result. He let out a long, exhausted breath of defeat before the realisation hit him like a runaway subway train:
He had grown so used to hearing his brother's daily antics around the lair that everything felt terribly off without it; there had never really been any true quietness this entire time... all he had been hearing was white noise.
And now, with actual, real silence encompassing him, it felt... awful.
"It's… too quiet." Donnie complained in a muffled voice, still mashing his face onto the keyboard.
He couldn't work in this condition.
"There's gotta be something I can do..."
Who would have ever guessed that New York City was such a powerhouse at two in the morning?
Car horns, screeching tires, people chatting and the occasional overhead helicopter turned out to be excellent substitutes that selflessly provided hours and hours of nonstop white noise.
Settled on an elevated platform, a few feet below one of the city's many sewer grates, was Donatello, absent-mindedly doodling in the journal meant for scientific research.
He figured if he couldn't get his brothers to create suitable background noise while he worked, then the famous 'City That Never Sleeps' would do the job nicely. And in between drawing silly, mindless sketches of possible future projects, he was actually getting stuff done!
Sort of...
Just he finished his rather childish reference of what he dubbed a 'shell-ocopter', a sigh escaped him; he placed the pencil down on the page. He knew better than to call one of his brothers and ask for their company, especially since he completely blew up at them. But having sat alone for nearly two hours made him realise that he'd greatly appreciate the presence of someone.
After all, by this point, anything was better than constantly writing until his wrist hurt. He even slipped out his phone and dared to check the recent contacts button.
"There you are!"
Suddenly, a feminine voice called up to him, and he jumped, nearly dropping the device. After fumbling around with the gadget, he returned it to his belt pocket, leaning over to see a familiar face appear on the concrete podium just below where he sat.
She looked up smiled; then she waved.
Nervously, Donnie quickly flipped the page of his journal to a blank sheet and waved back, hoping the human girl hadn't noticed his surprise.
"H-hey, April," He greeted her as casually as he could, trying his absolute best to not make a fool out of himself in front of her.
"Dude, I've been looking all over for you!" April announced with a dramatic sigh, hopping up onto a sturdy pipe before hoisting herself onto the platform next to her friend. She gestured with her head to his journal, then looked over at him. "What are you doing up here, anyway?"
"Ah, I couldn't concentrate," He confessed, internally thankful he had someone to talk with, and eternally grateful that the particular 'someone' was April.
She laughed at the answer, and the sound was music to his ears. "Really? You? Couldn't concentrate? So why are you here?"
Donnie shrugged. "Well, y'know. I just needed some white noise to work by!"
((A.N. - Wooo! Done. Took me long enough, lol. The beginning might be a bit weird, but I wrote a ton of stuff for it and... forgot to save. So I had to redo most it from memory... but, hey! It's done! Talons should be out by Friday/ Saturday, so stay tuned (or not, y'know... whatever floats your boat, my guy.) Until next time! : D))