I swear this bunny is not my fault. These are Nicktoon turtles. Um. Kind of.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
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Donatello sighed as he stared into April's window from across the street. She was just so pretty and smart and brave. And different. So utterly different from him and his brothers. She wasn't trained in ninjitsu like they were, although she was beginning training, and yet she courageously dove into situations, anyway. But it wasn't the rash headstrong kind of diving like Raph tended to do. No, it was smart and calculated. She did it out of love for her father. She was so strong and pretty. And boy did she smell good. Living in the sewers, nothing smelled good. Even pizza was tainted by the smell of sewage.
But not her. She always smelled like lilacs and vanilla. Donnie found it heavenly. He sighed again, swinging his foot off the railing of the fire escape he was sitting on, watching her flit about her room like an angel. She came closer to the window. Don realized too late that he should hide. She opened it, peering up at him, unsure of the darkness. He stilled, eyes wide, heart hammering. His palms were so sweaty.
"Donnie?" she whispered into the darkness of the night. "Don, I can see you up there," she demanded when he didn't reply. He squeaked, trying to come up with an answer. Then he lost his grip, falling down to the lower level of the fire escape with a clang. His cheeks burned red and he swore he heard April giggle.
"Oh, uh," he stammered, embarrassed. "I was just, uh," his mind raced. What was he supposed to say? What had she even asked again?
"Don," she sighed. "Maybe you should come in here before the owner of the apartment you just fell to comes out to see what that noise was?" she hissed.
Oh my. Was she inviting him to her room? He smiled, not caring if he looked goofy. "Come in? Oh, sure," he said, happily flipping over to her side of the building and slipping through her window just as the window across from them began to open. April slammed her window shut and dove away from the window.
Donatello glanced around the room, soaking it all up, eyes wide and a big grin plastered to his face. Her room was just like her. Feminine and awesome all at once. And the smell! The smell was wonderful! Like lilac and vanilla tenfold. Smells of dessert even wafted in from the kitchen. "So this is your room?" he asked, content to stand there in the middle of it all.
"Uh, yeah," she said, as if it were obvious. "So what are you doing here? And why didn't you knock?" He felt her staring and turned around to face her.
"Oh, well, I was just, uh, you know, making sure you were safe," he said. He stared her up and down, taking in her presence without the odd tint of the window in his way.
She looked at him, disbelieving. "What? Why? Did something happen?" she sounded worried and began checking him over.
"Oh, no!" He hadn't meant to scare her! "It's just there are a lot more Kraang out wandering the streets than usual and since we know they want you, I – we just thought it might be a good idea to make extra sure you were safe, since you couldn't hide with us, you know-"
"Ah," she interrupted him, looking relieved. He smiled, glad to have calmed her down. "Well, thanks then," she nodded. "My aunt made some cookies. Want me to steal one for you?"
He brightened. "That'd be wonderful," he said.
She smiled back, patting him on the arm as she left. "Good thing you're not Mikey," she muttered. He melted. She'd touched him. Her hands were so soft and warm. She was only gone for a minute or two before she was back, two chocolate chip cookies in her hand. She offered him one. "Here," she smiled.
Don couldn't stop staring at her hands. He'd never noticed before but her fingernails were exceptionally well groomed. His own were always dirty from living in the sewer and constantly working with his hands. Hers looked silky smooth, almost shining in the light. And her fingers – they were so slim and delicate. He was a turtle entranced.
"Uh, Don? Are you alright?" she asked, breaking his train of thought. But he couldn't pull himself away from those fingers, those beautiful fingers. There were lines in her hands, of course, due to her knuckles, but even those seemed to be delicately placed on her slim fingers. He even found the few hairs gracing her fingers hypnotizing. They enhanced her natural beauty, he thought. She was so pale, almost as if her skin was milky. There were no scars on her fingers like those of his brothers. They weren't crooked from being broken or jammed or any of the other injuries that he and his brothers hadn't been able to escape.
"Don, seriously?" April sounded worried. She started to move, to do what Donnie didn't know and didn't care. He reached out, grabbing her slim wrist with his hand and pulled it closer to him. "Don? Ow, Don, what are you doing?" Her voice was like music to his ears. He gently flipped her hand up and stroked her palm. He barely noticed her trying to struggle away from his grasp.
"So pretty…" he breathed. All her fingerprints were arches, except for her thumb, which was a whorl. So different from his own. She was whimpering now. His grasp had tightened. He looked her in the eyes and felt like he could see her soul. He'd made her feel so awkward and clumsy usually, but right now everything just felt right, as if all the pieces had properly fallen place. He knew what to do. He smiled. It didn't seem to comfort her, but he didn't care. This was right. He stroked her face with his free hand. "I know what to do, April," he said.
"Uh, that's great, Donnie, really, but-" he put his hand over her mouth. It dwarfed her, reducing her speech to mumbles.
"Yes, yes it is," he agreed. He let go of her arm, using that hand to wrap around her back and guide them gently onto her bed. He quickly poked a pressure point on her struggling form. Her bed was the prettiest shade of purple. It was a sign. He wouldn't want to ruin it. He entered her private bedroom and gathered all the towels she had, working quickly to place them under her where her hands would be. He left some out to wrap her hands in. Donnie reached up and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. He smiled again then swiftly took the pillowcase off of her pillow, stuffing it in her mouth and tying it off around her head.
He situated himself over her as he kneeled over her. He used his legs to hold down hers and his knees to hold her body in place, careful not to sit down on her and crush her. He took out a small, sharp knife from his belt and studied her right hand. He trapped her left between her body and his legs. Then he leaned forward so she couldn't sit up and began his work. She woke up instantly, but the pillowcase muffled the noise well and her aunt never came to the door.
Donnie whistled merrily to himself as he walked the sewers. He almost felt like skipping. Maybe he was, he couldn't tell. He knew he was floating along, who cared how his legs did it? He entered his home feeling happier than he ever had since this had started. Somehow, it felt as if all the worry of getting April's father back and protecting her had lifted from his spirits. He would have a piece of her always now.
He heard a clatter as Mikey dropped the bowl he'd been mixing food in, but paid no mind to it. "Uh, Don?" Raph said from behind him, sounding more unsure than Don had ever heard him sound. "Don? Are you okay?"
Don turned around, smiling brightly. "Great! Better than ever, Raph! I don't know, I just feel like I've had this big rush of endorphins and-"
"Yeah, great, braniac," Raph muttered, hands on his sai, staring at Don's neckline. "Sensei!" he yelled. "Don, you just, you just stay right there and tell me what happened."
"Raph, what are you yelling-" Leo trailed off as he popped up from the couch and caught a glance at Donnie.
"I went over to her place, Raph, to make sure she was okay," Donnie explained, grinning expectantly at Raph, trying to determine if he could see into Raph's soul. "She was and I – I just had this epiphany. Her hands are beautiful, Raph."
Donnie heard Leo's swords being unsheathed. "Whose hands, Don?" Leo sounded angry.
"April's of course!" Don said. Leo was so silly.
Mikey stepped out of the kitchen in hesitant steps, nunchucks spinning.
"What is the meaning of this, my sons?" Splinter's voice entered the fray.
Don grinned and turned towards his Sensei. Master Splinter would understand!
Splinter gasped and stepped back. "My son," he whispered, "what have you done?"
Donatello smiled, looking down at his arms and scraping some of the dried blood off. His hand lazily went up to feel his neck, to feel what was around his neck. Ten beautiful human fingers dangling from a fine string hung there, still warm against his plastron. "I had to, Sensei," he said happily, dreamily. "They were beautiful," he whispered passionately.
And they belonged to him now. He could hold them forever.