i_speak_softly | Thirty-Third Theory [Action/Written]

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Thirty-Third Theory [Action/Written]

[Donatello woke up this morning so relieved to be back in his own body that all he could do was cry into his pillow for five minutes. By the end of this catharsis, part of him felt that he really should look in on his housemates to see what state they were in today, but another part just really didn't want to know how much misery he was still in for. These two parts debated for a while, and concluded that they would do the responsible thing, but only after they had had (a) coffee, and (b) some time away from the house.]

[That decided, Donatello hauled himself out of bed, bundled up, and headed to the coffee shop to spend a few hours staring into space and downing as much caffeine as he could stand.]

[Some time around his third cup, he opens his journal and begins to write.]

Usually I'm in favor of having as much information as possible, but sometimes it really is better not to know. Things will never be the same again.

If only I could forget.

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[That one catches Don off-guard, but he manages to talk around having the wind knocked out of him.]

Raph, you're - something's wrong.

I'm fine!

[And another punch. He won't be satisfied until somebody wins, and it better be him.]

Raph - [His focus is completely gone. The punch gets him right in the beak, and it hurts.] Raph, stop...

[Okay, Don's hurt now and he's not even paying attention. Raph stops himself and mentally claims his victory, shaking out his fist. He stands there, panting hard until something catches in his throat, making him cough dryly a couple times. But he's fine after a second, clearing his throat.]

Just...havin' an off day, all right? And my throat still hurts from that cold I got durin' the experiment.

[Which was weeks ago, so it obviously can't be the same bug. But Raph doesn't know that.

He frowns at his brother's pained expression.]

You all right? Gotta pay more attention.

You're not having an off day, Raph, you're in recovery. [He rubs his snout with the back of his hand, ignores the last statement, and goes to the corner to pick up his bo.] We both are. We shouldn't even be doing this.

Yeah, fine. [What's he gonna argue? He's not feeling up to much more of this anyways.] But you promised me a bath. Ain't no backin' down on that.

Ugh, you need one. [He crosses the room and listens at the door.] I think April's done.

[He walks up and smacks his brother on the shell.]
Pff. Shell-head.

[He sniffs the air for a moment.]

She always makes the place smell like a freakin' fruit salad.

[He stops himself just short of saying "What's wrong with fruit salad?" Instead he opens the door and sneaks out into the hallway.]

You're not going to let me use that bubble stuff, are you.

No. You're fruity enough as is. [He chuckles at his own joke, giving Don a playful jab.]

[Nice. Don just crosses the living room like he has every right to be walking there, and heads into the bathroom.]

[Raph follows him as far as the door, but only pokes his head in.]

I'm gettin' a drink. You want anything?

A very large pitcher of water, thanks.

[And while Raph is getting it, Don will work on filling the tub.]

[... Stealthily adding just a little bit of the bubble bath is tempting. But he will resist.]

[Raph returns with the biggest pitcher he can find full of lukewarm tap water and two large plastic glasses in hand. He sets them down on the counter and fills them, handing one off to Donnie.]

Wish we had a tub like this at home.

[Or any tub, for that matter. The new Lair doesn't even have the luxury of the turtle pond. If they wanted a bath, they had to go raid April's place. And even then her hot water heater seemed to always be on the fritz.]

[Don takes the glass, drains it, and hands it back.]

The one I gave you wasn't good enough?

[He knows not this "new Lair" of which you speak.]

[He grunts and thinks of whether he should tell Don or not. He was pretty broken up about all his work getting destroyed when it happened...

So nah. Maybe he won't tell him.

He drains his own glass, then fills them both again, offering one back to Don.]

It ah...broke after a while. Forgot about that.

[Half-truths. Yeah, he can handle that.]

Who managed to break a bathtub?

[He'll drink while waiting for the answer.]

[...]

Mikey.

[He's not lying. What're you talking about?]

Naturally.

[He's buying it. Blame it on his brains still being scrambled.]

[He sets the mostly-empty glass on the side of the tub, and climbs in.]

[Raph finishes his glass, then steps in the tub after him, nudging him with his foot to move over. This might be a little bit of a tight fit.

When he gets enough space he sits and sinks down into the water with a groan.]

Oh yeah, now that's the good stuff.

[It doesn't occur to him to be more sneaky about this because of their roommates. They've been bathing together since they were kids. It's perfectly normal to him, and if they think it's weird, too damn bad.]

[It's not like they're much more naked than they usually are. There's nothing to see.]

[Don passes Raph a washcloth, then tips to one side to show him the edge of his shell by his hip. It's pretty scratched up.]

Look at this.

What's that from?

[He runs his fingers over the marks and tries to remember, then finds a peeling edge of scute and starts picking it off.]

My guess? April walking into the furniture.

[He snorts at that and keeps peeling at the scute. Looks like the whole thing's coming off.]

You keep growin' like this and ya might finally grow into those flippers you call feet.

[Once it's free, he balances it on the tub edge - a green, dinner plate sized sheet of pure keratin. Then, he runs the washcloth over the portion of new shell, and carefully scrubs at the scuffs made by April's supposed furniture accident.

The ritual is far more comforting than any work out session. It reminds him of home and the warm familiarity of family. After all that trouble and searching, Raph feels more like himself than he has in months.]

Ha, ha. Those flippers can outswim you any day and you know it.

[He steals back the washcloth, and gently pokes at the still-slightly-soft new scute.]

Are you going to display that somewhere?

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[Action] /steals from your headcanon

[Action] Nice try, but wrong