Donnie stumbled into his laboratory, his hip nearly avoiding bumping into his metallic doorframe. The bright, fluorescent lighting within his lab beamed down on his sore and battered body, and it burned his tired eyes. He scrubbed at them with one filthy, bandaged hand and slumped against the wall, relishing in the cooling sensation that is presented to his overheated body. An overwhelming weight pressed against his back and, for the first time since he'd created his invention, his battle shell felt like it was suffocating him. His bruised fingers brushed the surface of his battle shell, scouring for the latches to release it from his back. Donnie's digits slipped over and over again on the smooth metal, his usually calm temper igniting to life with each failed attempt.
"Here," he jumped at the abrupt, soft voice that spoke up from behind him. Donnie craned his neck around, and he took note of April standing in the doorway of his lab. She smiled, weakly, at him; an expression that somehow seemed soft and sad at the same time. April strolled into the lab, and she extended her hands out to him. "Let me help you."
For some reason he couldn't quite grasp, something hot and heavy built within his chest, pressing down on his very lungs at April's offer. It molded into a large ball and spread across his torso, making his skin crawl at the prospect of April touching him - of helping him. Donnie immediately pulled away from her searching hands before they could touch his suddenly sensitive skin.
"It's fine, April," Donnie stated, firmly, coldly. "I can at least do one thing on my own."
April pulled her hands back at Donnie's tone, and she stepped back a couple of steps, her smile slipping away from her lips. Donnie never noticed the change in her demeanor and, instead, he chose to refocus his attention upon trying to unlock his invention from his back. His clumsy fingers continued to fumble on the lock mechanisms precisely ten more times - he knew because he counted every infuriating try within his mind. Eventually, his invention must've pitied him, and the latches popped open with a loud hiss. His battle shell slid down from his back, and it fell to the unforgiving ground with a clatter.
Any other time, Donnie would've been absolutely mortified at the literal idea of his precious invention even brushing against the ground. Now, however, he staggered away from his machine and left it in a pile of dejected metal on the floor, the state of his machine the last thing in his mind. Gracelessly, Donnie plopped himself before one of his many, many computer screens - yet, they all say the same thing over and over - and he wirelessly hooked his digital gauntlet up to the monitors. He forced his strained eyes to scan through all the rushing info on the screens before him, soaking in all that he possibly could as he's been doing over the past couple of days.
While he drowned himself in his never-ending work, April found herself drifting over to Donnie's forgotten battle shell, and she stooped down towards it. Gingerly, she gathered the shell-like machine into her hands with ease, the invention light with minimal weight to it, and her dark eyes scoured its surface. Her brown fingertips lightly traced along the newly formed scratches etched into the bright purple-and-black paint, feeling small scars that hadn't been there before.
The corners of her lips were pulled downwards at the sight. The original Donnie that she knew would've never have let his favorite and most relied upon invention get in this bad of shape; it was a known fact that he'd always kept it in perfect condition.
A very loud frustrated shout suddenly drew April back to reality, and she looked up in time to witness the softshell tear his digital gauntlet from his heavily bandaged wrist. With a literal growl, the gauntlet bouncing twice with a tiny shattering noise. April pursed her lips in concern at the surprisingly emotional display from the usually calm softshell, and she gently placed the battle shell onto the scratched gray table beside her.
"What happened?" April asked, gently, her voice loud in the unnatural silence that had settled over her second home. She slowly approached the softshell, her previous failed attempt still fresh within her mind. "Did you find something?"
Donnie twisted his head around, and he fixed her with a hard red-tinged stare. What bothered April the most about the expression was that it wasn't the usual look he'd throw one of his brothers when he thought they were being too rowdy; it was a borderline heated glare. And, it was directed at her of all people.
"Yes, April," Donnie said, flatly. There was a line of something dangerous - angry - hidden within his tone. "I definitely found something important, and that is why I threw my device on the ground."
April furrowed her brow at the sarcastic remark, a faint flicker of anger igniting within her chest. Before she could even think of voicing her thoughts, Donnie continued talking, oblivious. "Of course, there's nothing here! All that time I spent trying to track down the Purple Dragons, and I've got nothing but this-!"
Donnie smacked his bandaged fist against the wall beside the computer monitors, ignoring the sharp burst of pain that accompanied the action. The corners of April's lips turned downwards at what was displayed upon the multiple bright screens, dread trickling into the pit of her stomach. Nearly every screen showed chibi versions of the Purple Dragons grinning madly with their leader, Kendra, out front chanting the word, "loser," over and over, her voice loud and piercing.
Donnie sighed, and he staggered away from the monitors, clenching his newly aggravated hand around the wrist. "I… don't know what to do next."
April eyed the small splotches of crimson blooming across Donnie's hand. "It'll be okay, Donnie."
The soft encouragement didn't have the desired effect that April thought it would. In fact, Donnie seemed to stiffen, his expression hardening into stone. "How, April? Tell me how. It's been approximately-" he paused, crunching some sort of invisible numbers within his mind. "Forty-nine hours and twenty-one minutes, and I have absolutely nothing to show for it!"
"Then, we'll figure something out," April shoved a shaky smile upon her face. "We always do."
Donnie laughed, weakly, bitterly. "We included my brothers, and we - I still don't know where they are! They're depending on me - their tech guy - to save them, and all I've done is waste time!" He stumbled over to his chair, and he practically fell into it, hiding his face into one of his hands. In a low voice, he murmured, "I'm supposed to be smarter than this."
April's brown eyes widened behind her signature red glasses, and she didn't hesitate to make her way over to the sullen softshell. Carefully, she lowered herself before him, taking note of the way Donnie's shoulders trembled, and she placed a delicate hand on his knee. Donnie shivered - whether from her touch or his own roiling emotions, April wasn't sure - but he didn't pull away.
"Donatello," April started, her voice firm. "You are literally the smartest and techiest guy I've ever met. But that isn't all you are. Any time I, or anyone else, has ever been in trouble, you've always known what to do. And, you always care even if you don't show it all the time. Wherever your brothers are, they know you're trying your hardest." She brushed her fingers against Donnie's closed bloody hand, coaxing him to unfurl it. "I know you're trying your hardest. But, you have to realize that you're not going through this on your own."
April pulled Donnie's hand from his face, the softshell permitting her, and held it. She smiled at his watery eyes and the wet patches around the eyeholes in his mask. "I'm still here," she said.
Donnie froze and, for the first time, he found himself getting a good look at April. She seemed just as tired as him, small bags lining the skin under her eyes. Her pigtails were lopsided atop her head, and her glasses sported a crack along the outside of one of the lenses. A large bruise bloomed from underneath a bandaid on her left cheek; she got it after they fell into one of the Purple Dragon's traps.
She was right.
Burning tears welled up in Donnie's eyes, and they trailed their way down his face. To both of their surprises, Donnie nearly leaped forward, and he embraced her as tight as he could. He buried his face within the green fabric of her torn jacket, inhaling smoke and flowery laundry detergent. April paused, momentarily taken off-guard, and she wrapped her arms around his jerking shoulders.
"Thank you, April," he sobbed.
"No problem," she hummed. "That's what family's for."