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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Not unless I lie on my shell too long.

[He sighs and lets himself relax.]

Got an idea why it still looks like that?

I wonder... [He falls silent for a while, stretching out Raph's wing and gently cleaning the ragged feathers. Then, almost abruptly, he touches the barcode on the back of Raph's neck.] - if it's related to this.

What, the barcode? [He thinks a moment.] Wonder if anybody's tried scrapin' theirs off.

Mm. [He moves on to Raph's other wing.] I would hope not.

Yeah, but think about it. I heard somebody say that's how those kidnappin' robots find you. Get rid of that, you got nothin' to worry about.

[His hands still as he thinks about this.] In theory. But scraping wouldn't be the way to go about it.

[He glances over his shoulder.] Think it's somethin' worth tryin'?

[His gaze grows more intense.] Difficult and dangerous. And possibly ineffective. All four of us were taken from home, and we don't move often enough to make ourselves hard to find.

Guess you're right. Feels like they're watchin' our every move anyways.

[He sighs and leans forward on the edge of the tub.]

One month and it'll be a year.

More than likely. [He drops the washcloth back into the water and reaches for his glass.]

It's been an interesting one.

[He pillows his head in his arms, voice soft.] Woulda rather done it with four, not two.

[Don nudges Raph's elbow.] We'd need a bigger tub.

[The remembering-them-without-being-sad-about-it thing? He is trying.]

[Oh yeah, he remembers that. He'll just...shut up about it then. He's got a headache coming on anyways.]

How are you feeling? You really didn't look so good...

[He speaks into his folded arms.] I'm all right.

[So we've officially moved from 'fine' to 'all right' in the special code language of Raph.]

[He hates your code, Raph.]

Is the water getting cold?

Yeah, just turn the hot back on. [He turns over and rests his shell on the rim of the tub, folds his hands over his plastron and closes his eyes.] I'm takin' a nap.

[He reaches over to add another shot of hot water. That done, he mirrors Raph's pose at the other end of the tub.]

[Sleeping in water. It's what turtles do.]

[Hope you didn't need the bathroom, housemates...]

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Thirty-Third Theory [Action/Written]

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