Definite spoilers for the ROTTMNT Movie. Takes place after. Enjoy.
3:48 AM
Her eyes wrenched open.
Mouth dry.
Throat strained.
Lips tight.
A pool of sweat merging her to the bedspread.
The world was a blur, a mass of dark shadows and neon lights flooding in from the outdoor vendors, buzzing in pulses…
Three, two, one…buzz.
Three, two, one…buzz.
Her hands clapped to her face, inhaling deeply and swallowing back the urge to gag…to scream…to punch. Instead, she ran her fingers over her neck, feeling the adrenaline pulsing through her arteries, pumping the drums in her ears.
It was too hot, and yet the fan was too cold, seizing chills throughout her body, and slowly, very slowly, she peeled herself from her clinging sheets, curling forward.
Her chest punched with nausea as a bang shot through her ears…a hardcover textbook sprawled along the floor.
Everything was okay.
Everything was fine.
She was fine.
But her fingers scattered along her bed, desperately trying to find —where was it?
I-It had to be—
There, to her left.
She gripped the digital brick in her hand…
Swipe —swipe —swipe…
Tap.
She waited.
Her breathing rattled.
Vision still fogged.
And with every shaking second, her fist rose closer and closer to her lips, eyes scrunching shut—
"…Wh-Wha—happen? A-April? Wh-What's wrong? What happened?"
The tightness in her head released, exhaling a slow bought of tension that stirred the balance of the room she was in, swaying back and forth, in and out…
The silence was deafening,
but his voice…as discombobulated and confused as it was…
lacking its usual confidence and ego…
It was still warm…still sentient…still…alive…
It was grounding.
"…A-April?"
"…Sorry, D…" she whispered, pressing her hand into her hair, and swiping the stress that had run down her face in the process. She froze, pulling her hand back, and clasped the moisture, staring off into the corner of her room, quiet and thoughtful, "…Didn't realize…how late it was…"
It remained quiet on the other end, only a bit of shuffling.
And then a yawn.
"…Everything okay?"
Her eyes glanced at the clock beside her, blurry at best without her eyewear, but she didn't need clarity to know exactly what time it was.
It was the same as last time.
And the time before that.
"…Y-Yeah. Just…a weird dream."
A light sniff answered this,
"…Mm," he murmured, his focus lightyears away, "…Sounds…good…I-I'll just…finish the…"
She said nothing, knowing his subconscious had taken over once more, the speaker still close enough to capture the easy breathing of REM. And for a few moments, she simply listened, quiet and motionless as the seconds ticked on, bestowing a profound comfort more than even words could provide. Simply knowing he was at the other end, resting peacefully when she could not. Able to explore and expand in his dreamscape, while she feared her own.
And this should have been nonsense.
Because dreams were figments of the imagination.
But as the days had gone by…night after night after night…these figments never changed. Never morphed into something more. They were always definitive. Absolute. And conclusive.
And as April clung to the phone, curled over her knees, desperately holding onto the present…
She couldn't help but feel these visions weren't dreams at all.
"Commander O'Neil! You summoned me?"
Her eyes skimmed the young man flatly, hand pressing on the glass door, "…We really need to work on your lingo, Jones."
The young man's sense of duty waned with his sheepish smile, relaxing his form as he followed April into the building. The smell of cheese and grease was overwhelmingly delightful, and as his dark eyes skimmed over the every day man, woman, and child casually enjoying their meals without a care in the world, he felt the sense of peace he had always dreamed of since the day he was born, knowing what he knew…they never would.
And it was better that way.
"Mind grabbin' that table?"
He followed her point toward the empty booth in a far-off corner and offered a sharp nod, quick to claim it before anyone else did.
"Pepperoni good?"
He grinned,
"Yeah!"
This world had so much to offer; as minute as such things could be, he absorbed it desperately like a thief, quick to try any and all things…but some things were best repeated. Food had been the greatest blessing. Flavors and scents and textures all strange, unusual, and grand.
Michelangelo had been sure to take advantage of his lacking pallet, though he had been told by the others he seemed to lack any taste at all. Not everything could be that good. But they simply didn't understand.
When everything was stolen from you your entire life…
…everything was a luxury.
A meal.
A bed.
A roof.
Even the souls that surrounded you.
Here today…gone tomorrow.
Though, he supposed that still applied to this timeline. Just not as dire. Every minute of every day was worth its weight in gold. And all these people took it for granted.
Originally, it had bothered him.
Knowing what the other outcome could have been, and seeing them so…spoiled. So selfish. So unprepared and ignorant.
But in their ignorance was a sense of happiness. And a care for one another in a less lethal kind of way. Their dumb videos and filtered pictures and movie obsessions…things they bonded over and it made them smile. Gave them conversation. Brought a sense of unity between them without a need of fear. Without the concern for survival. Without the stress, and anger, and destruction.
And eventually, he accepted these people and the world around him. It wasn't perfect, but it was good. The world his mother had known. And would still know today.
Keeping them apart had been an interesting game. Cassandra hadn't a clue, and to keep things stable (for who knew what kind of wild card would be thrown into the mix if they met), it had been decided that Casey would be better off learning about the world with someone who was also new to human society.
His fingers curled under his chin, thoughts flowing in and out as he monitored the people around him, wondering how many of them were even human to begin with.
Mutants had been an easy pill to swallow. He had always known of them.
Yokai had been mentioned, but always spoken as if taboo.
The Yokai people had disappeared elsewhere before he had been born…or at least a good majority of them. Someplace hidden…so went the stories. And others…the ones who remained —fought valiantly until the end. At least…that's what Leo had always said.
But none of that applied now.
Aliens, Yokai, mutants, and humans…all living under the same big sky.
And yet, humans still remained oblivious…bottom of the food chain.
It didn't matter.
Living in peace…living in happiness…living.
That's what mattered.
His eyes darted up as April approached, serving him a paper plate with the cheesy pepperoni triangle, sliding a can of soda his way. She sat herself across, away from the people and the window of the world, choosing the shadows and bricks surrounding.
A small smile curled as he pulled the meal toward himself, cracking the tab open,
"Heh…thanks."
Grabbing a wad of napkins, she dabbed at the grease and made a small pile, folding her slice in half,
"I wouldn't invite you out here and not pay. That's not how we do things. Or —at least, that's not how I do things." she shrugged, taking a bite. It was good, but hardly sat well as she chewed, doing her best to power through. Crawl before you walk, April.
"So…how's life with Barry?"
Munching along the crust, Casey knit his brow. Honesty was always the best policy, but it was always wise to mind the situation.
"Uh…still getting used to it."
"Worst roommate ever, huh?"
"W-Well, I—…yeah."
She chuckled lightly,
"You guys live right above me. I can hear the chaos."
"He's…really particular about stuff. And I got some stuff I gotta work on. He says people don't latch onto garbage —and I get that. I just…we had to utilize everything, you know? It just feels wrong to toss out something with potential."
Another laugh,
"You and Donnie could—"
The lightness broke as it faded from her eyes, words dying in her mouth.
Swallowing the pizza grew difficult, choking it down with a sip of carbonation. That burned even more.
She grabbed a napkin, pressing it to her lips, and with a soft exhale, she rested the slice down, unable to feign the hunger anymore.
"…Commander?"
Commander.
The title he had bestowed upon her without her having earned it.
At least not in this world.
But in the other…the world from which he had come…and possibly…the one she witnessed…the title stood strong.
"…I need to ask you something." she uttered darkly, and the tone stabbed at his attention, the lighthearted opener put to bed.
He set the food down before wiping his hands, crossing his fingers on the table. His stare was attentive, loyal, and firm, and it mattered not how long she required to gather her thoughts, for he was willing to age gracefully at her word.
"You've told me a lot about…where you're from."
Her fingers curled along the table, knuckles pressing into the cork covered plastic. She flexed the muscles in her arm, needing something to ground her to this plane of existence.
"And we've faced some crazy stuff on our end," she murmured, leaning forward into her elbow, "…but we made it. And you did it. You changed our future."
His mouth opened at once to deny such weight to his name, for surely without everyone's teamwork…without Leo's sacrifice…things would've ended a lot differently, but he bit back the interruption, seeing she was fighting her demons to get to her point.
"I've been sleeping like garbage lately. Figured it was just…y'know…stress of everything. That and just…thinking about what could've been. Our whole lives just…uprooted. Having some other purpose that might've been all in vain. Stuff that plays out in movies."
Casey remained quiet.
Movies, in comparison, were child's play.
The napkin crunched in her grip, and crunched, and crunched.
"…I've been having dreams."
His eyes scanned her face, brows falling heavy,
"…What kind of dreams?"
April closed her eyes, propping her cheek with a fist,
"Nightmares."
The ambience of the pizzeria cushioned them both, providing sound to fall back into as the words grew more uncomfortable. People still ate. People still laughed. People still lived.
But in their little booth, tucked away from the world, the room might as well have been empty.
"Nightmares…change. By exposure…interpretation…learned behaviors. By facing our fears and charging at them head on. These dreams are different. I can't shake them…I can't forget them…and I don't think…they're just dreams. They feel…too real. Like I'm witnessing something…that actually h-happened…"
Her hand began to shake as she adjusted the balled napkin in her grip; Casey's brows knit, his jaw tight.
Impossible.
There was no way she'd be able to witness what had happened because…it hadn't. At least, not here. Not in this timeline.
"…Y-You…saw everything. You were there. S-So…I need to know…" she uttered, lifting her eyes toward him,
"…What happens at the end?"
Rubbing his nose stiffly, Casey pressed his knuckles along his chest, an uncomfortable twist haunting his face. Memories were a dangerous thing, and in his case, most confusing. Would his memories fade with time as the continuum rewrote itself? Would he fade along with it and be reborn in some time? Would he even be born at all?
He was still here, for the current.
Served his purpose in this life and the last.
But he hadn't yet lived. Not truly. Not yet.
Was it even worth it to remember what never would be?
To latch onto all that unnecessary anger and frustration and…sorrow?
"…With all due respect, Commander…does it even matter?" he murmured grimly, propping his balled fists over his mouth, "Maybe my stories just feel real because they're real to me." His gaze lowered toward the table, "…But that's all they are now…just stories."
Flicking the napkin away, April clutched at her soda and took a rough sip.
It remained quiet for a few moments as she removed her glasses and pinched between the bridge —something Casey recalled from his own time, she much older, but old habits die hard. And she was just beginning.
"…Raphael is lost to the Krang mutation. He's the first to go. There's no saving him…and we know it. Three brothers are left." she huffs, curled into her hand,
"…Michelangelo…is always smiling. Smiling until…he can't anymore. The light is so bright it burns to see…and he burns with it…"
Casey's brows knit in defiance, head tilting with each word she spoke.
"Leo's hurt…but he's pushing through. And there's so much pain. Pain from everywhere until there's only red…and the smell…the heat is unbearable…"
Casey's stare remained vacant, the food in his stomach fighting its way up, but he curbed it back down, feeling the pulse in his neck throttling him.
There was no way…
How was it possible…
"A-And Donnie—"
Her words cut, the pinch of her bridge now capping her eyes, and from there, simply keeping the pain from spilling through. She sniffed back the battle, biting her lip in place as she did her best to keep herself calm, cool, and collected.
But how did one do so on such limited sleep, knowing…validating the segments she knew to be truth?
Casey had said nothing all the while.
Because he knew.
He knew everything.
He knew Raph had been destroyed with nothing left, a husk of his former self.
He knew Mikey had disintegrated before his very eyes, sacrificing what was left of his soul.
He knew Leo had incinerated, fighting through to the very end.
Casey slowly blinked, and gently took April's hand across the table, giving it a firm squeeze.
And…he knew that the loss of Donatello had forever changed April O'Neil…the second brother to fall…and with him, her sanity.
"…Sound familiar?" she whispered darkly, and Casey exhaled into the back of his hand, slow and steady. Silent he remained, but offered a single sharp nod.
Her grip on his could pop knuckles, but strongly they endured, fighting through the confusion, and the reality of what once was. And almost angrily, April shoved her free hand along her forehead, glaring at her food.
"W-Why?"
Casey couldn't possibly offer an answer.
How was she able to know such things?
Were the timelines merging somehow?
Making up for lack of…space between their worlds?
He wasn't exactly a numbers guy.
He only knew what he knew…and that was all.
"W-Why would he be so stupid?"
The young man's eyes gazed up in realization.
She was…grieving…for something that had not happened…and yet, had. And she, who should have been unaware and beholden to such ignorance, had her eyes opened to the atrocities of a possible future…
…and the choices they had each made.
His eyes fell on her softly, gently squeezing her hand once more,
"…Because losing you would've killed him, anyway."
Her eyes shot up at his words, the lack of clarity blinking into a heavy, silent stream. The world sounded so far away, the thump of her pulse echoing in her ears. Conversations insulated and muffled. Car horns miles away. Jackhammers simple taps. And the jingle of the door's next customer.
She had…stopped breathing…and took a moment to inhale once more, finding the action choppy and choking.
And it took everything…everything in her to refrain from ripping out her cell phone and making the call.
To wait, and shake, and pray until his voice came through: casual, confused, or indifferent.
It didn't matter how…as long as he did.
As long as his voice came through.
It was the only assurance she had, the only coping mechanism she knew.
The only thing that brought her peace.
Night, after night, after night…sleep be damned.
Casey's gaze had fallen to the table, lost in his thoughts as she swam in hers, fingers still clamped, and sweaty. But neither made the move to let go…not yet. And quietly, assertively…he lifted his head, resting his other arm flat across his chest and leaned forward.
"Comman—…A-April? If I might speak freely?"
Her eyes shifted, and though she said nothing, he knew she was listening.
"I don't think…in any timeline…Donatello would've done anything differently."
Her stare remained stoic, and silent.
"We all had a purpose, and we knew what we were up against. We knew that sacrifices were going to be made. But…even with all that…" he murmured, clenching his loose fingers,
"No one expects it to happen. And no one plans for how it goes down, or when. You kind of just…cope…and react. But he was a thinker…even in the worst of it…and he knew exactly what he was doing in that moment."
His dark eyes softened, but within them was a great strength. A kind of inspiration he had carried with him from that moment on, for there had always been something to learn from Donatello, even till the very end,
"He fell, so you could rise."
April blinked slowly, feeling the cool of the air conditioning cross her cheeks and trail along the paths that grieving had carved, chest rigid and tight. Gone in Casey's world. A world they had lost, but avoided. A world destined to be doomed, for all her friends had been erased in that time…possibly even herself.
And yet, the improbable still haunted her…for three of the four visions had met their destinies protecting the world. And one had met his protecting her.
"I don't think he would've allowed it any other way." Casey whispered, offering her fingers one last consultation, "…Do you?"
Sugary sweetness filled the air —a rather unusual concept in a mucky place like a sewer, but for this particular section, it could only mean one thing.
Curled over the oven was the youngest of the four, eyes filled with childlike wonder as he monitored his creations coming to life before his very eyes. And the happiness that curved along his face was a gift, regardless if it haunted her dreams something awful. He was here…in real time. And he had noticed.
"Casey! I got a new one for you! Peanut butter chocolate chip supreme —extra chunky! Your taste buds are gunna fly into the next universe, baby!"
The scent alone had the teen grinning with excitement, but his smile softened as April approached the box turtle and pulled him backwards into a gentle hug, patting along his head.
Mikey chuckled, offering a playful wink, "Aww…You can have some, too, April —I made enough for everybody. They should be done soon."
The tribute was much obliged as his carefree nature brought solace to her heart, and a warm smile curled.
"You did that to mess up my combo!"
"If I wanted to mess up your combo, all I'd have to do is this—"
"Back off—!"
"Give me tha—Casey Jones, new best buddy forever! It's been a minute. How are things?"
April chuckled as Leo abandoned the fight, arm clung about the teen with a cheerful grin. The two had become fairly close over the past few weeks…and perhaps regardless of the timeline, that's simply how things were meant to be.
Leo had easily taken the teen under his wing, eager to expose him to what the real world was like…the world that should have always been.
Casey barely spoke a word before Leonardo continued on, "The worst, right? You got Barry as a roommate. Tough break, but you know what seemed to slip my mind?"
Rolling his eyes, Raphael leaned back into his seat, "I've got a list."
"Hilarious." he spat his tongue, poking at Casey's chest, "Buddy, we haven't introduced you to video games! Great idea, hear me out —crash here for the weekend!"
The mutant's eyes appeared to fill with joy at the concept,
"We've got the whole hook up with our own arcade and everything. You haven't lived until you've survived one of our game nights."
The teen's smile was warm, and genuine, feeling the rush of excitement somewhat overwhelming. Surviving…but also living.
"That sounds…awesome." Casey grinned.
"Well, if it's anything like last time, we're all gunna need some new gear. Donnie's virtual reality stuff is more reality than the lair can handle." Raph muttered, snapping up, "Dibs on Casey for tag team laser tag!"
Nearly crunching the young man into a headlock, Leo took offense, "You can't call dibs! He's my best buddy—"
"He's all our buddy!"
"But I was his Sensei! We have something special!"
April smirked as the two tug-of-warred over the unsuspecting soul suddenly crunched between two mutants and their territorial antics. Displaced or not, Casey Jones was fitting in just fine.
Her arms pulled them all in as best she could, giving the gentlest of group hugs, and tucking her hands into her jacket, she spun on her heel,
"…Catch you later."
Brow arching curiously, Leo followed her footsteps until she turned the corner and disappeared.
"What was that all about?" he murmured with a soft smile, and with absolute confidence, Casey clasped his own shoulder and rotated the cuff,
"…She's just appreciating what she has."
The walk down the hallway felt longer than usual though she knew the path by heart. Each step echoed coldly along the clammy walls, bouncing back to their owner like an unwanted stray.
The phone in her pocket twirled within her grip, hardly a need to utilize it now, but she wasn't about to mess with the formula.
She was, however, ready to fight this nightmare head on…
Her chest pounded with every encroaching inch. Her throat grew dry and stale. And with every passing second, her vision seemed to blur.
But it didn't matter.
Because when she arrived to her destination, he was going to be there.
He was going to be there.
Just like always.
Her eyes closed as she approached his door, hearing the shuffling from within, and slowly she exhaled, walking forward.
The door sliced open quicker than she had anticipated.
She hadn't expected anything more.
But the slam dislodged her nerves —as well as the stack of comics now cascading upon the floor.
The shock, though it had been there briefly, quickly swapped for stoic disappointment, "Well, that's just great. Leo's gunna have a cow—…April?"
She stood in the center ring of chaos, halfway between his room and the next.
Between past and future.
Between here and now.
His wide eyes maintained perpetual perplexity: always analyzing, always processing…doing their best to understand the enigma that she had always proven herself to be. But she offered no clues to her puzzle, no hints to her strife. She simply carried his stare, studying the face that too often abandoned her in a world that should never exist.
And without a word, she slammed forward, everything else an afterthought as she latched onto him with an iron grip, refusing to waste a second more.
He froze in her clutch, mystified and bewildered at the actions of the young woman he had learned to call his best friend.
He had always known her to be a pillar of strength.
A breath of fresh air.
A tone of streetwise logic.
These were things he had come to admire, secretly noting no other could meet such standards.
But the most recent events had rattled her, even more than she had dared to let on.
It had rattled them all.
They were resilient. Adaptable. Tenacious.
But after all was said and done…the damage had still left its mark.
And they were only human…if only partially.
His eyes lowered to the top of her head as she rested her cheek gently against him; her inhale quiet and unable to mask the vibrations that haunted it.
His brows knit in wonder when she knocked the flat of her fist gently against his chest, her whisper soft and stirring,
"…You're here…"
Of…course he was. Where else would he be?
But he refrained from such riposte. There was a time and place for everything —though the dots connected quicker than synapse.
He tilted his head, peering where he could see her face,
"This…wouldn't have anything to do with those cryptic calls I've been getting lately, would it?"
So, he had been paying attention. Not that she had entirely expected him to forget such random calls during the wee hours of the morning, but his lack of opinion on the matter had left the subject on the back burner…perhaps until she was ready to talk about it.
And maybe she'd never be, simply hanging onto him for all eternity if she could…anything to keep him around for just a little bit longer…but without a decent enough reason, she pulled back, gently adjusting her glasses,
"I-I'm just…glad you're here. Sorry…I know hugs aren't your thing."
It was often said that eyes were the windows to the soul, offering people a kind of communication unique to their innermost emotion.
A tap to the most private and sensitive parts of humanity.
In Donatello's case, most would claim he kept the blinds closed, only peering out every so often when caught unaware. His eyes often spoke volumes before his words ever did, quick to judge or pander to whatever presented itself before him, but for everything else, the hazel orbs remained silent, numb, or indifferent, and this was by choice alone.
Emotions were messy things.
Blinding and distracting.
Life was easier when data points were black and white.
Zeroes and ones.
But at her words…at her tone…at her very being, the windows threw open,
if even for a sliver of a segment…
…and he crunched her in tight, face tucking close.
The silence was deafening, pulsing, unnerving. But closer he held until it processed, and her widened eyes released the gather of tears she had been fighting for days on end.
His brows knit firmly, closing his eyes as she shakily grasped his head and held him close, feeling the rush of anxiety wash away with the definitive knowledge that he was here and nowhere else.
He was here, and alive.
He was here…and right now, that's all that mattered.
April rested her head gently atop his, her hand clasping the side of his face as she reassured herself calmly…quietly…that all was well. Choppy breaths. Wet sniffles. Blurry vision. But the tension and strain that often accompanied such ailments was slowly lifting, the embrace fearsome and firm.
"Are those my comics? Donnie, are you seri—…oh."
The glare that met Leo from her shoulder was deadly, stark, and vile.
"—You are busy, a-and I'll—yeah—"
Gone quicker than he arrived, but April could feel the tension lingering in Donnie's grip, and she finally released, feeling calmer than she had in days, the lock on her muscles loosening. "He won't tell anybody." she noted with a sleepy smile, lifting her head.
"He'll tell everybody." Donnie muttered into her shoulder, his gaze falling on her as he straightened to full height.
Her smirk kept for a moment before falling away, rubbing along her arms. His lack of touch felt…empty, and cold.
"I…haven't been sleeping well." she admitted quietly, and his brow lifted.
"Oh. Well, I can whip up something with melatonin—"
Her finger pressed against his mouth,
"I don't know how. I don't know why. But I've been…dreaming these…visions. And…I-I'm seeing the end. Of everyone. When we don't win."
Donnie's stare shifted between her gaze: fixated, concerned, but mostly intrigued,
"Really? …I wonder if Casey's being here is placing a bigger imprint on this timeline than we anticipated…Snippets remaining as he's stitched here and rewriting…That is fascin—absolutely devastating. The worst. Bad."
Her sour gaze forced his eyes to dart, brows falling heavy in thought,
"Well…aside from memory retraction, which is not my favorite pastime, hypnotherapy…dodgy at best…Memory implanting is an option, but unfortunately dreams that are conducive to stress retain a stronghold due to the emotional…aspect…"
Donnie blinked as April had leaned forward and simply pressed her forehead to his chest, eyes gently closing to his words, "…Uhuh…"
She rocked a tiny bit as she tried to keep balanced,
"…What else?"
"Erm…uh…managing a solid sleep cycle might break the pattern. One nap can work wonders, roughly ninety minutes. It runs the risk of dreaming once you get to stage three or REM, but the odds are minimal, especially now."
Her forehead wrinkled in thought,
"…Why's that?"
"You text before midnight, and you call at 3:48 AM. That's at least three sleep cycles before those visions kick in."
Yes…that sounded about right.
"So…just a nap?"
"It's a start."
Her arms crossed, head pressed forward as she rubbed her cheek along her shoulder and wearily stared at her shoes.
"…Yeah. Alright."
Her back arched with her inhale, but she made no further move to act upon.
She simply remained in her meditative state, her weight shifting forward even more.
Donatello rested his hands along the sides of her arms, keeping her stable as his eyes skimmed about his room.
His bed was fairly cleared off for what it was worth, though the comics scattered about the floor made somewhat of an obstacle course for him to get there. And as he held her balance, he felt an unsettling sense of dread at the idea of setting her down and disappearing elsewhere should she need him.
Whatever the end was…it had been haunting her for quite some time.
His brow lifted as he spied the beanbag he occasionally used for late night reading, large enough to provide comfort and stability for the both of them. His arms looped about her, gently lifting her in a careful shuffle toward the seat before setting her back on her heels. She said nothing, but simply latched on, quiet…exhausted.
And with her anchored, Donnie sighed, lowering them both into a dogpile where she could at least be comfortable in her attempt at some proper rest. Stretching back, he propped his reading light on, a soft amber glow warming the nook with tranquility, and frowned as his eyes locked onto his door, tapping the control along his arm to shut it tight.
Done.
Ninety minutes…set.
And now it was quiet.
Left alone with his thoughts.
Not always the best scenario. But his gaze roamed about the room he knew so well until finally settling on his guest: fatigued, jaded, and spent. It wasn't a great look for her, physicality aside. It wasn't difficult to imagine the toll it was taking on her classwork or sense of awareness, either. A reporter needed to be spry, alert, and focused.
His frown softened as he studied the creature in his arms, uncertain if the details of said visions were ever going to be released. As curious as he was…
If they had lost…
He took in a slow breath, shaking the memories of what he did know. He had nearly lost his family…and that scare was more than enough for him.
To exist in a world without his brothers. Without his father.
Without…April.
…Was it even a world worth fighting for?
A selfish thought. One he'd be criticized relentlessly for if spoken aloud, but quietly, truthfully, locked away in the passage of conscious…
He blinked away and back, ignoring the lack of guilt he should have carried. Hypotheticals were merely conceptual and needn't apply to this. But as April rested firmly against him, he couldn't deny the fact that a world without her would be quite hollow. Bland, even.
And his days would lack that certain special something that made them worthwhile.
He sat quietly in his admiration, a rare softness possessing his gaze, and gently his thumb brushed the stray curls that had broken free against her cheek. Asleep.
"…Donnie?"
He froze.
Or not.
Retracting his hand into a clench, he rested the fist awkwardly at his side, "—Yes."
"Do me a favor?"
Her voice was quiet, but undoubtably aware.
"U-Uh, yeah. Anything."
Her head teetered back, her sleepy gaze at full force,
"…Don't ever do anything stupid."
His stare kept for a moment. Confusion lined his eyes, but was unable to mask the ego that lingered,
"It goes against my very nature."
Always confident, this one. But April's gaze locked, refusing to accept the comforting denial that easy answers always provided. She needed certainty. She needed truth.
"…Even if I'm in danger."
The silence was haunting.
His gaze shifted as the thoughts clearly processed.
Fingers uncurling from their tightened grip.
Knowing it had stemmed from the unspoken.
And quietly, he glanced away, unable to provide her with the answer she so desperately desired,
"…I…make no promises."
It grew quiet once more, and his brows knit uncomfortably in the awkward silence, expecting a firm rebuttal of some kind, a snap or a bark, but there was none. Her eyes still carried a kind of sadness he couldn't quite stomach, but with it wore a soft smile —at least, he was certain that's what it was before she adjusted herself and curled close, tucking her head under his chin.
With a deep yawn, she removed her glasses and hung them along her neck, resting her ear against his chest.
Casey was right.
Donatello would be Donatello, regardless of any timeline. It was simply something she would have to accept…and appreciate.
Regardless of the fear she carried.
Regardless of the visions she bore.
Regardless of the awkward tension that besieged his muscles when she nestled close and grasped his hand, knowing he was here now, and would be still when she awoke. Donnie blinked aimlessly at the desired affection, knowing the security would bring her more peace than science could provide.
He wasn't exactly an expert on feelings…or admitting them.
But if April felt safe with him…that was all he needed to know.
That movie was so heavy and so filled with feels. I loved every minute of it.