Warnings and Disclaimers:
This story will contain Turtlecest. No, I am not spoiling it by telling you the pairing(s). :3
I do not own the Turtles. If I did, they would not be forced to have a third toe, and Donatello most definitely would not be in love with April.

Welcome to my third chaptered story; it will be much shorter than my normal stories. I would greatly appreciate any constructive feedback or general comments if you have the time to leave them. This story is being written for very personal reasons, and as such it's hard for me to write. Please help me with motivation. ^_^

And enjoy!

Insomnia
Chapter One

Donatello had tried everything he could think of to try to sleep.

Exercise. Eating before bed and not eating at all. Meditating. Gaming. Chores. Movies- both porn and non. Reading- both fiction and textbooks. Drawing. Deep breathing. Lights on. Lights off. Music. Absolute quiet.

He sighed as he glanced at the colourful display on his computer screen. Sleep had eluded him for almost two weeks, and he was reaching the point where he couldn't think at all.

He eyed the prescription bottle sitting next to his keyboard; he hadn't put it there, but he had a sure guess who had. Leo had noticed his sluggish behavior over the last few days; once he'd heard that Donnie was in another insomnia bout, he'd gently suggested the Imitrex April had been able to get him. Although the medication was usually prescribed for migraines- which Donatello had occasionally- he mainly used it for its ability to knock him flat on his back for close to twenty-four hours. For whatever reason, it forced him to a deep, unshakeable sleep; and it was now his last resort. Yet again.

He heaved another sigh as he laboriously stood, tapping the tan bottle thoughtfully. If he couldn't sleep tonight, he would have to take one. His thoughts were fuzzy, his movements and reactions severely limited. Leo hadn't let him go on patrol last night, and that had stung considerably.

"Donnie?"

He turned at the soft call; it wasn't Leo, as he had expected, but Raphael. He arranged his face in a smile before turning.

"Yeah?" he said, then gripped his computer chair as a yawn suddenly overtook him.

"Hey," Raphael replied, creeping into the room slowly, his muscular form outlined by the harsh light from the door. "Leo said you ain't sleeping again."

"No," Donnie said, slumping in defeat. "I think I'm going to have to take something tonight."

"I'm sorry." Raphael stepped up to him, his face saddened. He'd heard Donatello's violent protests about drug usage; they were of the same mind, and just as stubborn about taking anything. "I'm really sorry, Don, but you have to sleep."

"I know that," Donnie snapped, then put a hand on Raph's shoulder when he frowned. "I've reached my limit. I think I'll take this in another hour."

"Why not now?" Raphael pressed, covering his hand gently with his own.

"Because I'd like to inform Leo and eat supper first," Donnie said wryly, and they shared a genuine smile.

"Fine, but after that, you gotta rest, okay?"

"I will, I will," Donnie promised. "Anything planned for dinner?"

"I think its free-for-all. You got any preferences? I was gonna make a grilled cheese or three for me."

Donnie smiled tiredly. "Oh please! I love those."

"You got it," Raphael grinned proudly, pleased at the praise. "Hey, so why do you think you get this, anyway? None of us have trouble sleeping. At least, I don't think so…"

"Who knows," Donnie mumbled, rubbing a temple irritably. "Perhaps it's the constant visual stimulation."

"Yer not on the computer that much," Raphael scoffed. He steered Donatello toward the kitchen. "Though I guess yer usually reading or working if yer not on it."

"Exactly," Donnie yawned. He sank into one of the kitchen chairs gratefully. "Gods, my body feels like it's three times its weight."

Raphael's brow furrowed as he frowned, and Donnie immediately regretted the admittance.

"I'll be fine with some food and rest," he added hastily. He rested his chin in his hands as he watched Raphael busy himself with the grill; worrying over the crease that remained on his face.