Chapter Text
Donnie’s first day at Horizon Medical Labs was a whirlwind of introductions, paperwork, and settling into his new environment. The lab was unlike anything he’d ever worked in before—sleek, cutting-edge, and humming with technology that he couldn’t wait to get started working with. Everywhere he looked, people were immersed in their work, their movements purposeful and precise.
A swirl of excitement and trepidation fell over him as he was shown to his workstation. It was tucked away in a spacious corner of the lab, equipped with everything he could possibly need or want. On his desk was a neat welcome packet containing all the information he needed for the job. Alongside that was a sleek looking set of tools and a small card that read, Welcome to the team, Donatello Hamato.
It was a simple gesture but the way it came across had Donnie smiling.
Dr. Von Ryan personally introduced him to the rest of the team. They were all a diverse group of researchers, every one of them specializing in a particular area of biomedical science. As his boss went down the line, the young softshell dutiful exchanged short pleasantries and politely shook their hands. That familiar feeling of being inadequate reared its ugly head as he took in the level of experience everyone else seemed to have.
One such person, a tall and rather lanky woman avian yōkai who had a striking crown of red feathers on her head and glasses that seemed too large for her face. She grinned cheerfully at him as she eagerly shook his hand. “Hello, it’s so good to meet this new assistant Dr. Von Ryan has been talking to us about. Pretty big shoes to fill in, huh?”
Donnie cranes his head to one side, taken slightly aback. “Uh, I suppose so?”
“I’m Trina by the way,” the woman goes on to say, still grinning. “I’m over on the bioengineering team but don’t hesitate at all to come talk to me or ping me. Just holler at me if you ever need anything. Oh, well, except for coffee that is. I don’t typically share that so, you’re on your own for that one.”
This has Donnie chuckling, the tension he could feel in his shoulders lessening up just a little.
The introductions continue and end with him and Von Ryan standing in front of a rather serious looking gentleman. Dr. Grayson was his name and he raised a brow as he took Donnie’s hand in greeting. “Von Ryan has spoken highly of you,” he says, his tone neutral. “Let’s see if you live up to the expectations he’s set for you.”
A rush of self-doubt pushes up from the pit of the young softshell’s stomach to rest heavily on his chest. He forces himself to take a deep breath, his hands clasped behind his back to hide the way they trembled. “I’ll do my best,” he says, his voice softer than he’d intended. He’d meant to sound confident but the nervous energy bubbling inside of him had caused his words to falter.
Dr. Von Ryan steps up beside him, offering a charmingly disarming smile to the other doctor. “I have no doubt that Donnie will be a wonderful addition to our team.” The older man’s certainty does little to calm the rising tide of anxiety that continues to plague Donnie.
From there, the rest of the day is spent with the young softshell trailing after his boss as he’s shown the rest of the facility. It’s larger than Donnie had first guessed, the long corridors and rooms that made up the building seemed to go on forever. Everything about the sprawling masterpiece of the building made him feel simultaneously invigorated and overwhelmed.
“This,” the older man said, gesturing toward a set of double doors, “is where we handle the bulk of our testing. Being a controlled environment as it is, access is strictly limited to those who are assigned to this particular project.”
Donnie nods, taking mental notes, though he can’t help but feel like he is continually out of his depth.
“And over here,” his boss goes on to say, leading him into a smaller lab filled with microscopes and molecular imaging machines, “is where we conduct our biomedical research. You’ll likely find yourself working in here the most as it’s a collaborative space for us all. Don’t hesitate to drop by and ask questions or contribute to anyone’s ideas.”
Right then, the doctor snaps his fingers, something registering in his eyes. He turns around to face Donnie fully, his features morphing into a thoughtful expression. “Speaking of which,” the other starts, “what are your thoughts on adaptive neural interfaces? I read in your portfolio that you’ve done some work in the area.”
The young softshell is startled by the directness of the question, his mouth falling open and closed a few times as he scrambled to organize his thoughts. The weight of his boss’s eyes are a bit intimidating but Donnie attempts to give the older man a decent answer. “Well, um,” he starts rather lamely, nervously fiddling with the cuff of his shirt.
“I think there’s a lot of untapped potential in integrating neural feedback loops into prosthetics. Response times and accuracy could significantly improve performance for people who use them. Though, from what I recall, there’s the challenge of trying to maintain a stable signal without getting interference.”
His boss slowly nods, a small smile curling the edges of his lips. “I see, very interesting. How do you think you’d go about problem solving some of the interface issues?”
Donnie hesitates, his mind racing. He hadn’t expected to be quizzed on his first day. Though, the expression on the older man’s face appeared encouraging—as if he were truly looking forward to hearing his answer.
“Oh, well, I’d… I’d probably start by isolating the signal paths more effectively,” he starts, his voice growing steadier the more he thought about the question. “I wonder if using some kind of combination of noise-cancelling algorithms and physical shielding would help with the interface’s overall design.”
He looks over at Von Ryan then, relieved to see that the older man’s smile hasn’t faltered. “That’s an excellent approach,” his boss says, “I’d like to hear more about it when you’ve had some time to settle in. For now, let’s continue. There’s quite a bit of ground to cover.”
The rest of the morning was spent exploring more of the lab’s departments, with the doctor offering a steady stream of explanations for each room they passed. New faces abounded as they made their way around and it all left Donnie feeling dizzy.
“This is Dr. Avery,” his boss said at one point during the tour. He gestures towards a tall, serious looking man with sharp features and a piercing gaze.
Dr. Avery didn’t look up from his work to acknowledge the two, but he did briefly offer his hand for Donnie to shake. “Welcome to the team,” he mumbles, focusing immediately on going back to his work.
“Thank you,” Donnie says, his voice faltering slightly under the other man’s tone.
Von Ryan seems to take note as they continue onward and he leans in and says, “Don’t mind Dr. Avery. He’s a brilliant man with years of research experience, but his bedside manner leaves much to be desired.”
The young softshell smiles, grateful for his boss’s reassurance.
As the day went on, Donnie began to notice something about the older man’s demeanor. While Von Ryan was undeniably intelligent—his explanations of complex ideas were as fluid and effortless as his movements—and there was this warmth that radiated from him that helped set him apart from anyone else Donnie had ever worked for.
There was something about the way he talked about the work they were doing. It wasn’t presented in a way that someone who had no interest in the subjects. He often spoke about the why behind what they were doing.
“Science should never be just about looking to solve a problem,” the older man says as they approach a set of intricate prototypes on display. “We should always keep in mind the people who are going to benefit from what we do. Each and every project we take on is driven by the desire to improve lives, whether it’s through mobility, diagnostics, or treatments. Never lose sight of that.”
The words strike a chord deep within Donnie, resonating in a manner he hadn’t quite thought of before. He found himself nodding slowly, his voice laced with quiet awe as he replied, “I’ll be sure to keep that in mind.”
Von Ryan turns to face him fully, his features softening as a smile stretches across his lips. “I know you will,” he says, voice low and steady, carrying with a warmth and sincerity that makes something in Donnie’s chest tighten.
When the day drew to a close, the young softshell was both physically and mentally exhausted. The plethora of new information he’d gathered so far was bouncing around in his head, leading his nerves to remain high strung for most of the day. But as he gathered his things and prepared to leave, his boss approached him with a little grin.
“You did well today,” the older man says as he comes to stand beside him.
“Thank you,” Donnie says, though he wasn’t really sure he believed it quite yet. “I’ll do my best to keep up with everything that comes with the job.”
His boss tilts his head, studying him for a moment before responding. “Oh I’m sure you’ll do more than just that,” he says as they both start to walk out of the building. “You’re going to thrive here, I just know it.”
The certainty in the other man’s voice causes a flicker of hope and optimism deep with Donnie. For the first time since he’d arrived, he truly felt like he was in the right place.
“Thank you, Dr. Von Ryan,” he says, the words carrying a bit more confidence. “I really appreciate that.”
“Of course,” the doctor replies, his tone light. Then, with a faint smile that carried an undeniable amount of authority, he added, “Oh, and since we’ll be working closely together, please—call me Tello. I’d hate for you to strain yourself trying to keep up with formalities.”
The self-assured warmth and friendliness in the other man’s smile leaves little room for argument. So, after stammering for a few moments, Donnie ends up nodding in agreement. He’s not sure how to feel about addressing someone with the doctor’s level of stature so informally but he eventually relents. “Tello,” he tried the name on his tongue, turning to look at the older man for any indication that he’d changed his mind.
But all he sees is genuine joy shimmering in his boss’s eyes. “See? That wasn't too bad now, right?” He says, coming to a stop near his car. “Get some rest now, tomorrow we’re going to hit the ground running.”
The next few weeks proved to be busy as Donnie settled into his role at Horizons Medical Labs. The learning curve was steep, but the young softshell found himself thriving under the challenging circumstances. His nights were spent refining prototypes often until quite late in the evening when everyone else had left for the day. There were intense brainstorming sessions with various team members and moments of pure fascination and enthusiasm as he continued to delve into the work, all while learning the complexities of the lab.
And then there was his boss.
The man’s mentorship style was one of encouragement rather than intimation, a breath of fresh air for the young softshell. Never had he felt so light and happy to head into the office each and everyday. His boss pushed him to think outside of the box, to see problems from a different perspective. Donnie learned to trust his instincts, to step outside of his comfort zone—all the things he’d been hesitant about doing in the past.
“Not every problem needs to be solved in the first iteration,” Tello told him one afternoon as they sat reviewing the specs for a neural network. “It’s important to take it one section at a time. Breaking it down into more manageable tasks as needed. You’re quite capable, Donnie, you just need to keep working hard on that.”
Having someone like Tello believe in him so wholeheartedly left the young softshell equal parts grateful and unsettled. It made him want to push himself more and more each day, hoping he’d be able to keep up with the expectations his boss had for him. But it also made those strange fluttering sensations in his chest harder to ignore.
Though most of their time was spent discussing work, there were occasions where the lines between personal and professional blurred.
One such instance occurred late one evening when the two of them were wrapping up work. Tello had just so happened to stop by the break room on his way out, stopping to linger for a bit when he spotted Donnie standing by the large windows.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” He said, stepping up beside him.
Startled out of his thoughts, the young softshell nods. “Yeah, it is. I’ve never seen the city from this angle before.”
Tello smiled, gaze distant. “It’s one of my favorite times of day as well. The light fades and everything feels like it slows down. Or at the very least, that’s how it seems to me.”
Donnie turns to look at him, surprised by the sudden introspection. “I didn’t think someone like you ever slowed down,” he says before he has the chance to mull over his words. He realizes what he’s said and instantly splutters out a string of apologies.
His boss takes it all in stride and chuckles, the sound low and rich. “Even someone like myself needs to take a moment to breathe every now and then.”
A few moments of silence stretch between them in which they simply stand next to one another, gazing out at the bustling New York City streets. The hum of the laboratory fades into the background, replaced by the thumping beat of Donnie’s heart against his ears. He becomes acutely aware of how close they’re standing and it becomes a bit overwhelming for him. Donnie shifts awkwardly, clearing his throat as he adjusted his bag on his shoulder. “I should, uh, finish up logging those results from earlier before I head out.”
“Of course,” Tello says, expression unreadable. “Don’t let me keep you.”
But as Donnie walks away, he can’t shake the feeling that the older man’s gaze lingers on him. He doesn’t dare look back as he makes his way to his desk. He’s unsure if he’s imagining all this or if he’s afraid of what he might find if he takes the time to read into it the man’s eyes.
Despite that, the young softshell found himself growing more relaxed around his boss. The near paralyzing sense of nervousness morphed into something akin to anticipation. He began to look forward to their time together, to the conversations they would have, and to the way the older man’s presence seemed to be grounding for him.
Tello, for his part, appeared to encourage this shift. He made an effort to include the young softshell in team discussions, often asking for his input despite the skepticism that would come from others.
“Donnie’s insight has been incredibly helpful in this endeavor,” the older man said during one such meeting, his tone leaving little room to cast judgment.
Donnie’s face had warmed at the compliment, but he’d managed to keep his appreciation from bursting at the seams. “I’m just glad I could contribute,” he said, voice calm even though his heart was fluttering in his chest.
This just didn’t happen during meetings, however, Tello had a way of making him feel just as good about himself during the quieter moments of their day. Those were the moments where he’d ask about his thoughts, his goals, even his life outside of the lab.
One afternoon, amid the chaos of deadlines and project updates, Tello had suggested they take a break from the lab. “How about we grab some lunch?” He offered, eyes crinkling around the edges in a friendly manner. Donnie hesitated for a few seconds—his mind acutely aware of the fact his pulse quickened—but eventually agreed.
As they settled into the older softshell’s car, the quiet sound of classical music playing in the background, Donnie allowed himself to relax. The city streets zipped by, a blur of motion contrasting the calm interior of the vehicle. Tello drove with an easy confidence, one hand on the steering wheel, the other resting on the gear shift.
“So,” his boss begins, breaking the comforting silence they’d been wrapped in. His tone was casual, though curiosity colored his expression when he cast a glance over at Donnie. “What made you want to pursue this field to begin with?”
The young softshell turns to look at him, momentarily caught off guard by the personal question. He wasn’t used to talking about his motivations—most people in both only ever cared about the results rather than what kind of methods he used to keep him going. “Well,” he begins, slowly choosing his words with care. “I’ve always been fascinated by how technology and biology come together in this line of work. I’ve always loved tinkering with gadgets and wires and all that. There’s something so satisfying about understanding how living systems work.”
Tello nods, his gaze returning to the road but his attention still clearly on Donnie. “I see. That explains your knack for innovation. Not everyone is able to bridge those two worlds together so effortlessly.”
Warmth rushes to the young softshell’s face, and has himself bashfully scratching at the area above his snout. “I think effortlessly might be a bit of a stretch,” he says with a modest laugh. “There were more than enough failed experiments along the way. But ultimately it’s like what you mentioned before, I want to make a tangible difference in someone’s life. Helping someone walk or restore a lost sense—that’s just incredible to me.”
His boss’s expression softens, a hint of admiration in his eyes. “I understand the feeling. That sort of impact always makes all the effort worth it in the end.”
“Exactly,” Donnie says, warming up to their conversation. “I once read an article on prosthetics and saw some of the early designs that were on the market. I remember thinking how there was some much room for improvement. It seemed like a field where innovation wasn’t just possible, but also necessary.”
They come to a stop at a red light and Tello takes the moment to turn to properly face him. “You’ve certainly contributed to that innovation,” he says earnestly, “I have a feeling the work you’re doing on neural interfaces will have the potential to change the industry.”
Donnie looks down, fidgeting with his nails for a few seconds. “I’ve still got a lot to learn,” he murmurs softly.
“Don’t we all,” his boss replies, his smile gentle and genuine. “That’s the beauty about doing what we do, there’s always something new to discover.”
The light turns green and the car eases forward. Silence fell over them once more, the only other sound coming from the car was the music playing.
“What about you?” Donnie asks, suddenly realizing he didn’t know what had driven the older man to work in this field. “What sparked your interest in biomedical technology?”
Tello’s eyes flicker with a mixture of nostalgia and contemplation. “It’s a bit of a long story,” he begins. “But much like yourself, it started with a desire to merge technology and human well-being. I have a family member who struggled finding a prosthesis that could help him navigate his life independently. Watching them go through this journey made me incredibly aware of the gaps in medical technology.”
“I’m sorry they had to go through that,” Donnie sincerely says.
His boss gives a quick nod. “Thank you. It was challenging, but it inspired me to find solutions—no matter how complex or difficult the problem. I wanted to be part of a future where people wouldn’t have to be limited and suffer from the lack of technological solutions.”
Donnie feels their connection deepen, their shared understanding of the impact their work could have on others, bringing them closer together. “It’s truly inspiring to see how personal experiences can help change things,” he says, turning away in time to miss the way Tello’s gaze shifts into something more meaningful.
They arrive at a quaint little café Tello had suggested, its outdoor seating area decorated with potted plants and soft lighting. They find a table out on the patio, the afternoon sun casting a warm glow over the space. As they look over the menus, their conversation flows naturally from one topic to the next. His boss shares anecdotes from early on in his career—some mishaps and some hard earned victories—while Donnie opens up about his own aspirations and fears.
“You know,” Tello starts once they’ve ordered their food, “it’s rare to find someone who’s so early in their career who has both the technical expertise and depth of purpose such as yourself.”
A bright flush colors Donnie’s scales and he rubs the back of his neck. “Like I said, everything I’m doing is all a work in progress. I learn new things everyday.”
The older man leans forward slightly, resting an elbow on the table. “I’m aware, but don’t forget that no matter what, your perspective is valuable—not just to the team, but to the field as a whole.”
“Thank you,” the young softshell says after a beat. “That means a lot, coming from you.”
A flicker of something unspoken passes between them while Tello holds his gaze. It’s gone just a few seconds later when the older softshell smiles and shifts their conversation to lighter topics.
Being there with his boss, laughing and talking so easily, felt both right and confusingly complicated. For now though, Donnie let himself to simply be present in the moment, to enjoy the opportunity of having someone else see him and understand him in a way he hadn’t had in years.