Forty-First Theory [Action]

[i_speak_softly]

((Trip journal, for reference. Still locked ICly.))

[Donatello rose with the sun this morning, struck his camp, and then started covering miles with single-minded purpose. He came down from the mountains as only an energetic young ninja in love can, then settled into a steady ground-eating pace to cross the remaining distance back to the village.]

[His path only wavers in the final stretch, when he curves west across the river instead of going straight to House 55. He needs to make a brief detour to C3 to tuck a note under the door of his favorite scientist.]

Happy Pi Day. Want to celebrate White Day also?

[Then it's directly home, where his first order of business will be to track down Michelangelo and apologize to him properly. Once he's made up with his long-absent brother, it's time for a more sober reunion.]

[Master Splinter, your second prodigal son is home.]

Comments

[Action/Voice]

[semper_cogitans]

[It takes Robert awhile to notice that note - he was probably awake when Don was there but, you know, Donatello's a ninja. He's good at sneaking around silently slipping notes under the doors of unsuspecting scientists without their knowledge.

But when he does notice it - in the handwriting he recognizes as none other than purple-mask-wearing-turtle's - he practically vacuums it off the floor and hugs it to his chest. He's alone, so he lets himself indulge in that little unprofessional display. He's back. He's back and he wants to celebrate White Day with m - ... Wait, what is White Day?

... That actually doesn't matter at the moment. Donatello is back; that is all that matters.

After the initial few seconds of processing the enormity of this - fifteen days, he had been gone fifteen days and it felt like an eon and now he is back - Robert snatches up his journal immediately and sends a message to Donatello. Hopefully. Full of so many emotions he can't possibly quantify all of them.]

... Donatello, you're back?

... I've missed you. [So much. So intensely.] Please... please visit if you have the chance? If you want to. [If he wants to because there is no way Robert would turn that down right now.]

[Voice]

[i_speak_softly]

[It will be some time before Don replies. But when he does, the answer is rushed, urgent.] Robert, I'm coming right now. [And then the feed cuts off.]

[Action]

[semper_cogitans]

[Robert had been sitting, waiting. Staring at the journal incessantly, as though him tracking it would somehow mystically cause Donatello to respond more quickly. Robert knew realistically it wouldn't, that he was probably busy, that he had his family to get back to and perhaps it was just awkward to see him after two weeks and -

... Then of course there's that urgent little message that cuts into Robert's nearly-catatonic-staring-at-journal state. Don sounds like he's practically sprinting there already.

So Robert gets up and starts... pacing. And looking at the door like he's trying to analyze the material with his retinas. And pacing some more. And generally looking like, if he had any idea where Don actually was, he would be running there at that moment, bad health be damned.

There is so much he wants to say. So much he needs to say. "I love you" being the most prominent one.

Gods he wants this to work out. For everybody.]

[Action]

[i_speak_softly]

[He is sprinting there already. With one detour, which he makes as quickly as possible.]

[In twenty minutes a lovestruck turtle will be banging on your door. He has a covered plate in one hand and an enormous box of chocolates in the other, so it's anyone's guess how he managed to knock.]

[Action]

[semper_cogitans]

[Robert is less than an inch away from the door when this happens. He opens it with a fervour not usually applied to the opening of doors.

He is here and he is okay and standing right in front of me and what the hell is he holding - oh never mind it doesn't matter -]

... D-Donatello...! [Robert would just embrace the turtle - in fact, he makes a motion that looks suspiciously like the least professional full-body hug ever - but he truncates it abruptly when he realizes a. Donatello would drop the stuff he's holding and b. he looks and sounds like a complete moron.

Problem a. is solved by Robert taking the box and whisking it inside, putting it down on the nearest hard surface, and heading back to Donatello to suction himself to the turtle's plastron. He might even be a little teary-eyed.] Gods how I've missed you.

[Action]

[i_speak_softly]

[He wouldn't drop them; he's a ninja.]

[When Robert comes back, Don closes his arms around him as tightly as seems safe, and buries his snout in the man's hair.]

Happy White Day, Robert.

[Action]

[semper_cogitans]

[Robert barely even registers Donatello's words at first because there's been something he's been meaning to say - needing to say - aloud since he wrote out that report-of-a-note to Donatello nine days ago. His voice is soft but full of genuine emotion - mostly adoration but also resolute firmness. Even if Robert didn't go up to the mountains to do it, he's spent a lot of time thinking - and while this situation still makes his stomach clench with anxiety, he needs to take hold of it and do something instead of letting it slip away.]

I love you, Donatello. [His voice doesn't waver, or stutter. Raphael would be proud. Wait, no he wouldn't.]

... I should have said that fifteen days ago.

[Action]

[i_speak_softly]

I should've said a lot of things fifteen days ago. Forgive me?

[Action]

[semper_cogitans]

[Robert shifts - carefully, so he doesn't knock that mysterious plate out of Don's grip - and kisses him again right on that smooth beak. It's not the same kind of clumsy kiss - it's a smaller, soft one that's significantly more brief - but it's no less meaningful.]

Unconditionally.

... It might be better for us to go inside, though. [Even if Robert lives completely alone on his floor. Mostly he just wants the turtle with him, though. Just... being there. That's all Robert wants right now.] But... I don't mind. [He leans into that plastron and clings like it's some sort of lifeline.]

[Action]

[the-mikester.livejournal.com]

[As Don walks into the house, he will be fairly assaulted by the smell of baked goods. Muffins and snickerdoodles and chocolate chip cookies and perhaps a pie or two. Your brother is a stress baker, Donatello. Hungry?

You'll find Mike banging around in the kitchen. His plastron is streaked with flour, and when you walk in he'll be stirring something in a bowl. He has his shell to you, and he won't turn around at the sound of the door opening, though as you get closer he might edge around so he has the corner of his eye on you.

He won't speak.]

[Action]

[i_speak_softly]

[That smells amazing. Especially after a twenty-mile run on a hastily-eaten pre-packaged breakfast.]

[Don drops his heavy pack, crosses the room, and hugs Mike around the shoulders.] Anything you want is yours.

[Action]

[the-mikester.livejournal.com]

[Flinch.

Mike practically leaps out of his shell at your touch. You didn't sneak up on him. But he's still startled. Chew on that.

Actually, you can also chew on the fact that Mike has turned around and flung his arms around you and is squeezing the brains out of you. This is not exuberance. This is a life-hold. He will die if he lets go. He still doesn't say anything. He's not even crying. But his eyes are shut tight, and a high keening is starting in the back of his throat.

You have no idea, bro. No effing idea.]

[Action]

[i_speak_softly]

Hey. [He resettles his arms, squeezing Mike back.] Mikey...

[Action]

[the-mikester.livejournal.com]

[It's you. It's your voice. You're here, and you're okay.

Mike takes in a shuddering breath and lets the smell of you fill his nose. It's you. It's really you. You smelled different when you were... But you've never gone through that. That's after your time. You have no idea.

He's just going to hold you for a while.]

Anything I want?

[Action]

[i_speak_softly]

[He nods against your shoulder.] Anything. If I can have that pie, then double anything.

[Action]

[the-mikester.livejournal.com]

It's apple...

[Go right ahead.

And for his first request:]

You have to tell me everything. And I mean everything, no holds barred. And you can't get Raph in trouble for telling me about Robbie. And you gotta... you gotta... you gotta not leave again.

[Okay, that was more than one thing. He's pulling away a little, enough to look you in the eye. His are filled with tears.]

[Action]

[i_speak_softly]

[Have a look of affectionate irritation.] Sounds like there's not much left to tell.

[Action]

[ninjacane]

[Splinter is waiting in the workout room, deep in meditation on the mats. He hears Donatello enter the house, hears him speak with his brother. Even though he wants to see his son--his healthy, alive son--he waits. Donatello and Michelangelo need time.

He knows that Donatello will come to him when he is ready.]

[Action]

[i_speak_softly]

[When Donatello comes, he comes quietly, padding into the room and dropping to the mats with hardly a sound. He kneels before his father, head down, and says nothing. He's not sure yet what degree of trouble he's in, and it isn't his place to speak first.]

Re: [Action]

[ninjacane]

[Except it is not time for Splinter to speak either.

THWACK!]

[Action]

[i_speak_softly]

[Action]

[ninjacane]

That is for abandoning your brothers and making them worry! For making me worry!

[Action]

[i_speak_softly]

I told Raph and Leo I was going! [And you and Mike weren't here, so it's not fair to count yourself in the calculations.]

[Action]

[ninjacane]

[He feels it's fair enough, all considering.]

Telling them is not enough, Donatello! While it may have been necessary, you still have hurt your family in the way that you left.

When I left the burrow, did I leave any doubt that I planned to return? Did I not make sure that you would be safe in my absence?

[Action]

[i_speak_softly]

[He keeps his eyes resolutely fixed to the mats.] I waited for Leo to come back. I told them I'd only be two weeks.