Tragedy Ever After

Late Talks

        ~No one's POV~

     The table was silent as the two sat across from each other, neither of them had even moved to get a taste of the food. Donnie was observing Y/n's expression as they chewed on their lip, waiting for the mutant to speak up.

     "So," the young adult sighed, not wanting to be the one to break the silence. "The purple shell, what is it?" the question made Donnie perk up, no one ever wanted to hear about his tech.

     "It's a titanium battle shell. It protects my shell underneath so I don't get hurt in fights," he explained the machine on his back. In the quiet, a low humming could be heard coming from the tech.

     "Isn't it heavy? Like, does it bother you to wear it for too long?" Y/n asked another question.

     "The weight has become somewhat of a comfort to me," Donnie admitted, looking at the human warily. "Think of it as a weighted blanket, or a hug if you want to see it that way."

     "But does it bother you?" they pressed once more. "I want you to be comfortable during your stay."

     "I guess it does," he rolled his eyes at their persistence. "If you want me to take it off, I won't. I wouldn't take a risk like that around a random human."

     "So, you're a soft shell?" Donnie tensed at the question before glaring harshly at the human. "I mean, it's the only explanation for you needing to protect your shell," they tried to reason at the sharp look they received.

     "I've had enough of your questions," the mutant spat, turning away from the human as he wanted to escape the situation.

     "Don't leave," there was almost desperation in their voice that Donnie caught onto. They wanted his presence, a prideful smirk was hidden under his hand. "I'm sorry for pushing. I don't speak to many people."

     "I suppose I can deal with you a bit longer," Donnie turned back to look at them. "It does protect a soft shell, yes. And I suppose it does get uncomfortable now and then, but I can manage."

     "How long did it take to make it?" they forked at the food, puncturing the egg, but not attempting to eat it.

     "I started working on it when I was young," Donnie started. "I didn't have fun like other kids, it was 'too dangerous,'" he made air quotes as he rolled his eyes. "I spent a good portion of my childhood making prototypes and testing out all these different things, but my battle shells worked the best."

     "Do you have more?" the human was leaning on their hand, eyes glancing between Donnie and the shell, clearly intrigued by the tech.

     "I used to, but I ditched it," his hand clenched around his fork. "I had a shell that could hover, but I discovered my spider shell is more efficient."

     "More so than being able to fly somewhere?" Y/n asked curiously.

     "Surprisingly, yes," the mutant nodded at the young adult. "I believe you've experienced firsthand why," he watched their face for a reaction, instead seeing the chill that ran down their spine at the memory.

     "Yeah," Y/n leaned back, uncomfortable with the current topic. "Aside from that, your tech seems pretty cool. What else have you made?" Donnie tried to ignore the giddy feeling of someone complimenting his tech.

     "I make my own electronics; my phone, my tablet, these goggles," his hand reached to his shell, pulling something new into sight. "My Tech-Bo, which is probably the most useful. It's many different weapons built into one. I press a button, the weapon I need comes out," Y/n watched in awe as Donnie showed off his tech.

     "I guess I also have my gauntlet," he showed off the band on his wrist. "It's connected to all of my tech, plus it makes it easy to hack into anything I want!" his voice rose as he got more excited talking to someone about his creations.

     "That's really cool," his heart leaped again at the human's words. He wanted them to continue. He wanted to hear that he did a good job. Please, please tell him he did a good job. But the words he so desperately wanted to hear didn't leave their lips.

     "Is there anything you want to ask me?" Y/n asked the turtle who was trying to hide his pout. There was no way he would ask to hear that phrase, so with a huff, he took a bit of the food the young adult made.

     "Who taught you how to cook?" he asked a simple question to start.

     "My dad taught me the basics, but I learned everything else myself," Y/n answered before taking a bite of their food. "I'm pretty good at following instructions, so it's not too hard."

     A person who could follow instructions was perfect for an assistant. If Y/n would do what he wanted with little to no questions, there would be no problems between them.

     "Are you scared of me?" Donnie hit them with a real question, making the young adult pause as their fork dug into the meal. They looked at Donnie with wide eyes as they processed what he asked.

     "Do you want me to be?" Y/n didn't give a proper answer, giving him another question instead.

     "I'll admit I like the idea of it," he murmured as he observed their expression for any changes. "But maybe you shouldn't be if you're going to let me stay."

     "I could get used to the company," the young adult looked back at their plate. "The only person that visits me is my friend April, but even that isn't often."

     "I guess I could get used to your company as well," Donnie hated to admit such a thing. "A warm bed is better than trying to find somewhere on the streets where no one will bother me."

     "Goodnight, Donatello," Y/n smiled as they put their plate into the sink and left for their room. Donnie hated that his eyes trailed after them, sticking to the door that closed behind them. He didn't like this human, but he would tolerate them.

     Once he had more of their trust, he would ask if they would work with him. Ask them to be his assistant, obviously not letting them know too much of what such a job would entail. After all, the mutant was still curious about how much a human could handle before they break.

     Word Count: 1,082. Another one out, I'm on a roll with this story.