Tragedy Ever After

He Can Be Soft, Too

        ~Normal POV~

     I was sitting in my living room, the TV quietly playing some horror movie I didn't pay much attention to. I was more focused on the laptop on my lap as I researched how to take care of a sick turtle.

     Even though Donatello said a lukewarm bath was fine, my research was showing that spiny soft shells preferred hot water. From what I could understand, my best bet was bringing him to a vet, but I couldn't risk that.

     Maybe the sickness was part of his human DNA? If that were the case, I could just keep track of his temperature and continue to give him water and have him eat soup, maybe even a cool rag to keep him from overheating.

     Subconsciously, my hand moved to rub the bruised skin of my neck. I could see Donnie staring at it earlier and it made me nervous. Was he planning to hurt me again? Or did he feel some sort of remorse for the injury? That didn't seem very likely, but at least in his state, I didn't think he would be capable of hurting me again.

     This soft side was strange to see, honestly. I didn't mind it, but I didn't expect it to last long. His harsh attitude would return the moment he felt better. I shut my laptop and turned my attention to the slasher playing on the screen. It was Scream, one of my favorites, but even then it didn't have my full attention, I had to keep an ear out for the soft shell's voice.

     My eyes stayed on the screen while my hand continued to massage my neck. My mind couldn't help but wander to the scene again; being helplessly pinned down, Donnie's hand wrapping around my neck without an ounce of sanity in his eyes. Something in him wanted to kill me, I know it. I wanted to know what stopped him.

     Maybe in some other scenario, I would have been into that kinda thing, just not in this one. In this one, there wasn't any motivation other than death. I brushed my thoughts away. I didn't like the idea of dirty thoughts clouding over what really happened.

     Some time had passed before the turtle finally called out from the bathroom. I assumed the water had gotten too cold for his liking, so I stood to go help the turtle. My cheeks nearly flushed at the sight I walked in on.

     The mutant looked pathetic as he rested in a kneeling position on the ground. Most of his gear was scattered around the bathroom tiles, only his goggles and gauntlet were replaced. I picked up the surrounding purple gear, tossing it into the washer that was tucked against a wall in the room.

     I grabbed a towel from a closet outside the bathroom and gave it to the turtle for him to wrap himself in. "I can see if I have any clothes that will fit you," I offered to the turtle. "I tend to buy from the men's section since it's more comfy."

     "Thank you," I paused mid-stride. Was my brain playing tricks on me? I glanced back at the turtle, his eyes were wide before they hardened and he looked past me. He wasn't going to repeat himself, he was gonna act like the words didn't slip through his lips.

     I entered my room to dig through my sweatpants and pajama bottoms. I wasn't sure what size pants he actually wore, so my best guess was to just give him a large pair of sweatpants that had strings to tighten them.

     I brought them back to the mutant, facing away as he stood to change. I tossed the used towel into the washer as well. I would wash the load tomorrow, seeing as it was already getting a bit late.

     "Did you want to go lay back down in the room?" I asked the boy. "If not, I'm watching some movies in the living room if you want to join me."

     "I'll watch with you," he said softly. "I don't think being alone while you're sick is always the best," he had a point. I had isolated myself a lot when I was sick, and while I felt better, my mental state got worse.

     I led the boy to the living room, helping him onto the couch, but didn't sit beside him just yet. He looked up at me with confused eyes when I hadn't joined him.

     "I'm just going to grab the weighted blanket for you," I told him with a light grin. "I'll be right back," I headed back to the guest room to grab the blanket for the mutant, grabbing the bandana as well so I could throw it into the wash. "Just one more thing to do," I told the boy when I dropped the blanket off on the back of the couch before going back to the bathroom.

     I pulled the plug out of the tub and the water started to drain. With a fresh towel, I wiped up the puddle that was left over from the turtle waiting patiently on the ground, throwing it into the washer as well. I looked around proudly before moving to join the mutant in the living room once more.

     Donatello already had the blanket pulled over his soft shell again, eyes glued to the screen that was still playing the slasher film. I sat further away from the boy to give him his space, only for my attention to be caught as he shifted to lie down with his head resting on my lap.

     My body tensed at the unexpected action. Was this really how the illness would affect him? I knew he wasn't one for being affectionate, so what the hell was this? His hand latched onto my wrist and pulled my hand to his chin, his fingers puppeteering my own to scratch it a few times.

     When he was sure I got the message, he removed his hand and I continued the motion gently, worried he would snap out of whatever this mood was and hurt me. I was caught even more off-guard by the churring noise that left him as he leaned into my touch. I could feel the vibration in his throat as he made the noise.

     I had to admit, I adored this side of the turtle, but I knew when he was better I wouldn't see it again. I wondered when the last time this turtle had received any form of affection was. Maybe this was a subconscious craving that was amplified because he was sick? I definitely would not bring the moment up when he was better.

     Word Count: 1,118. Soft boy doing soft boy things. Enjoy!