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It had been a long week. A very, very, very long week. That was three very’s. And one of them was italicised.
So… it had been a long week. Donnie hadn’t slept for the vast majority of it, which probably contributed to the unfathomable amount of very’s describing aforementioned long week. Who would’ve guessed that passing out for ten minutes every few hours wasn’t enough to function normally?
It wasn’t his fault this time, though! Except that it was entirely his fault, and he was far too tired to continue lying to himself. However, he wasn’t too tired to continue lying to his brothers, which was a bonus!
Not that he was a very good liar when it came to his brothers, but somehow he’d convinced them that he’d slept for at least five hours every day of the week. Donnie raps his fingers against his doorframe in delight as he remembers that none of his brothers had questioned his sleeping habits outside of the one (1) check-up from Raph a few days ago.
At least, he thinks it was days. It could’ve been a few hours, or even months! Who knew? Certainly not Donnie.
However, he needed coffee to stay awake any longer, and his coffee machine had ran out of coffee beans… some time ago. After that had happened, and he finished his Final Cup™, Donnie found himself with two options: go to the kitchen to get more coffee beans, or eat shit and die.
The longer he stares into the darkened area outside the comforting and blinding brightness of his lab, the more appealing the latter option starts to look.
But he’d committed now—getting out of his chair, putting on a hoodie and opening the door. If he went back now, all of that would be for nought! (And he’d keel over and die, but that was a secondary concern right now. Wasting precious awake-time was the primary concern.)
Donnie steps out into the cold and shivers, pulling his hoodie closer around his body, before slowly shuffling to the kitchen. Distantly, he hears familiar talking that grows ever louder as he approaches the kitchen, but he ignores it. He has one mission—get coffee beans or die trying.
Yawning, he pushes open the door to their small kitchen, and sees two green-and-other-coloured blobs inside. A darker green and orange blob—that’d be Mikey—stands behind the stove, holding a silver stick at the lighter green and blue blob sat on the countertop—Leo. Ah—something clicks into place in his sleep-deprived brain. He knew he’d forgotten something! His glasses! Now… where were his glasses?
Raph would probably know where they were. Donnie looks around blearily for him, but there’s no sign of his middle-ish green and red older brother.
How disappointing.
Or—not really? If Raph were here, he would immediately be able to tell that Donnie’s sight was no longer in HD, and instead was akin to that of 144p quality, if not worse, and then ask him where his glasses were. Because why would Raph know where Donnie’s glasses were? He giggles to himself at that, for some bizarre reason, and the background noise of his brothers bickering fades into silence as Donnie rubs his eye as he makes a beeline for where he knew they kept the coffee beans.
Alas, his plans were momentarily stopped by Leo jumping off the counter—Mikey groaned from behind him, muttering something along the lines of “So that gets you off, but not the promise of pizza!”—to stand in front of Donnie.
Donnie blinks twice at his twin before furrowing his brows and attempting to push past him. Leo stopped him easily with a single hand on his shoulder.
“Good morning sleeping beauty. You look like you just dragged yourself out of hell backwards. Do you know what time it is?” Leo teases, annoying smirk plastered on his lips.
Donnie regards him for a moment. “Time is a concept decided upon by those who find themselves unable to break free of the restraints they were forced into by God . ”
And with that, he pushes past Leo and yanks open the cabinet, grinning widely as he finds an unopened bag of coffee beans waiting for him. Carefully, he pulls them out before shoving them into his hoodie pocket and spinning on his heel, his vision swaying dangerously when he comes face-to-face with Leo again.
“New question for you Dee,” Leo says hesitantly, though something in his tone screams don’t you fucking dare even think of trying to leave before I can finish my sentence . “When was the last time you slept?”
“I’ve slept every day for at least five hours,” Donnie recounts automatically, voice his usual monotone as his wide smile shifts into one that was more unhinged. “However, if I don’t get back to my lab and make myself coffee, I fear I may die.”
“What do you mean by that?” Mikey pipes up from behind Leo, who steps out of the way to give their youngest brother a good look at Donnie. The box turtle immediately winces. Donnie pays it no mind and gestures vaguely with the hand that wasn’t clutching the coffee beans with a death grip.
“Calculations, my dear Michael. I had two options—I get more coffee for my coffee maker, or I eat shit and die. However, I have got my coffee,” Donnie falters and blinks before resuming his dramatic explanation, “and yet I still feel like I may just die. Hence a new set of options hath appeared before my person: make coffee in lab or die.”
Leo tilts his head and scrutinises his twin. Donnie glares back. Mikey glances between the two with a growing look of worry.
Eventually, after their little staring contest was over, Leo turns and walks out of the kitchen, leaving Donnie alone with Mikey, who still looked concerned and confused. Donnie’s first mistake was thinking his twin was gone for good.
When Leo stops just outside the kitchen and yells, “Raph! Donnie hasn’t been sleeping again!” at the top of his lungs, and the telltale footsteps of their eldest brother echo through the lair, Donnie knows he has to run.
He has to run, because if Raph finds out he’d lied, he wouldn’t—he couldn’t even begin to imagine the consequences.
And he tries to run. He really, really tries to. That’s two really’s, a new world record of trying for Donnie. Yet, his attempt to run back to his lab and lock himself in for another week was foiled by no other than… himself.
The last sounds he hears are a concerned yelp from Mikey and the thud of his head hitting the floor as he trips over nothing in his hurry to escape.
After that? Comfortable darkness. A pleasant change from the blinding lights in his lab, if he must admit.
When Donnie returns to the land of the living, he isn’t plastered across the kitchen floor, or in his lab, where he expected to be. He actually doesn’t know where he is, except that it’s warm and awfully tempting to continue lying here, and maybe even fall back asleep.
And so… he does. But not before an all-too-familiar voice hisses in his ear, “If you dare stay awake for a week straight again, I’m banning you from your lab for a month .”
Yeah. Sleep… sleep sounds really appealing right now, lest he face Raph’s wrath.