Thirty-Third and a half Theory [Action/Illusion]

[i_speak_softly]

[Today Donatello is lying on the couch in House 55, staring into space. He's sick and he knows for a fact that he's hallucinating, so he will not be at all disturbed by anything that might present itself to his vision. It's only a product of his feverish brain, after all...]

((Go on and barge into his house, fourth-wallers. Replies may not be entirely coherent, but they will at least be agreeable.))

Comments

[i_speak_softly]

And you don't remember being here before?

[hiddenbadass]

No, I don't. Don't remember the wings, either.

[He was in another place before this. But he was human there. It didn't make any sense.

Also, he might be shifting his arm just enough that he can poke one.]

[i_speak_softly]

Ow. [Apparently being sick makes the wings even more hyper-sensitive than they already are. He pulls them flatter against his shell.]

[hiddenbadass]

Sorry.

[Very slow blink.]

... Those are weird, Donny.

[i_speak_softly]

Everyone has them. [He casts a glance over Mike's shoulder.] ... You don't have them.

[hiddenbadass]

[There's the briefest of smiles.]

'cause I'm unique.

[And then it's gone.]

[i_speak_softly]

[If his brain were working, Don would be extremely worried by this. As it is, he accept Michelangelo's explanation.]

You always were.

[Just cuddling now, please?]

[hiddenbadass]

[Mike is not used to all this cuddling, but he isn't pushing Don away, either. He makes himself a bit more comfortable.]

My own turtle.

[It's weird, saying these things after so long. And so he grows quiet.]

[i_speak_softly]

[Mike may be thirty years older and minus most of an arm, but his heartbeat is the same as ever. Don drifts off the familiar rhythm.]

[hiddenbadass]

[It takes Mike a few moments to realize that Donatello has fallen asleep on him, and then he just stares at his brother in surprise. But even after all he's been through, after all that has happened, still feels natural. Like it's supposed to be.

As the shock wears off, and where no one can see him, Mike's eyes slowly soften. He shifts Donatello just enough so that the sickly turtle won't fall over. Mike knows he'll probably end up sick, but for now, he doesn't give a damn.]

... I missed you too, Donnie.

[He leans back with his brother and doesn't plan to move anytime soon.]