No one's POV
The lair was quiet, as each turtle had resigned to their respected bedrooms and gone to sleep a few hours prior. Each turtle, that is, except the genius of the four. Donatello was found working away on his latest project in his lab. With droopy eyelids, Donatello found himself acquiring burns from the blow torch stationed in his right hand, onto his left. His focus was slipping, and he soon wouldn't really be accomplishing anything if he didn't go to sleep. Just as he readied himself to stand and resign to his bedroom as his brothers had done, he heard a small noise. i The turnstiles being pushed through. /i
With barely lingering consciousness, the teen stood, gripping his staff, and made towards the door.
'We weren't expecting anyone, were we? Of course, you know who it is.'
The thought was instantaneous, and he knew it was probably one of two people. Peeking out the giant metal doors, he noticed he had been right in his initial thought. Stumbling towards the center of the lair came a fumbling April. Donnie took note of the brown, 'X' marked bottle in her left hand.
Stepping out of the lab completely, Donnie made his way to the obviously drunk red head. The abrupt and unexpected death of her father nearly two months prior had gotten April worked up and thrown her into a very deep fit of depression. This wasn't the first time that Donnie saw her enter whilst intoxicated, though he never told anyone about his experiences. He always offered to help her through what she was experiencing the next day, after all, Donnie knew what it was like to lose his father. Not only did he, but his brothers did as well. Why then, did she never accept their emotional backing and help?
"April, c'mon. I'll set you up some blankets on the couch. Just- Yeah- I'll help ya out there." The turtle helped place his nearly human friend onto the couch. She leaned back against the back of the furniture in what seemed to be an uncomfortable fashion. Reaching for the bottle, Donatello noticed new scratch lines across her small wrists, and stopped for a second.
'Not again.'
April grabbed his wrist in his hesitation and pulled herself up to look him in his eyes. "Please, don't take it from me. It makes me happy. It makes me forget." Her eyes began to gloss over, and Donnie pulled back. He could feel a really heavy feeling in the pit of his stomach. A feeling that lingered because he completely understood what she meant, but at the same time, he understood it i too well. /i
"April, please, let me have the bottle. It's not doing good things to you, it's-," Donatello was no longer able to continue talking for, April had pulled him into a kiss.
'This isn't what I expected, this isn't what I wanted. Not like this, not now.'
With a sigh, Donnie pushed her face away from his. She wasn't reveling unrequited love. She was trying to get him to leave her alone. Still completely exhausted, Donnie reached for the bottle quicker this time, and managed to remove it from her grip when she started to argue with him.
"Damn it Donnie, I would expect you to understand what I'm going through, why the hell won't you let me help myself. Do you really hate me enough to make me suffer like this? I can't believe this, why do you hate me? Why are you being a dick to me? Do you think I deserve this?" Her whispered shouts followed him all the way to the kitchen where he dumped out her remaining booze and greeted him on his way back to her.
"Of course, I don't hate you." The words left him absent mindedly.
'I love you, but I won't say it.'
"April it's just- this isn't helping you. You're just pushing everyone away." Leaving the room towards his own to grab blankets, the genius thought of nothing more than how much he really wanted to go to bed. Babysitting wasn't what he had been hoping for. He'd have to stay out with her, away from his nice, comfy, and warm bed until she fell asleep. All the while, hearing derogatory remarks made by her about himself.
'Of course, she doesn't mean it, she's just not in a happy place right now. Keep your head up.'
A lump in his throat took form, and he found himself holding back tears. Perhaps it was simply the exhaustion, but the remarks were getting to him. He hated feeling like this. There was a time that he had enjoyed watching her come through the turnstiles, but now… now he was responsible for her when she did and it wasn't his cup of tea.
'She'd cut herself again, even though she had seemed to be out of the habit.'
'Maybe it was just a drunk thing. Maybe she is better when sober?'
'Where did she get alcohol in the first place? She's 16 years old for crying out loud.'
'Casey probably had connections. Knowing him, he would hook her up if she—'
'Don't think about that.'
With an arm load of blankets, Donnie stumbled back to the living area, and placed the blankets unmethodically on the floor. April was standing/swaying in the middle of the area. "April, I'll set up your blankets, so you can go to sleep. That's fair, right? You can yell at me tomorrow." He finished placing the blankets and pillow on the couch and grabbed April by the hand to pull her to the couch.
"I'm sorry, Donnie. I didn't mean it, you're a good friend," She whispered as the genius pulled up her blanket. She grabbed his dangling mask tails, and pulled him into another kiss. He pulled away faster this time than last with a heated and red-tinted face.
'She's drunk. You can't. She's just sucking up to you for next time. There will definitely be a next time.'
"Go to sleep. You'll feel a little better in the morning," even as he said it, Donnie knew that was a lie. All her memories would be repaired, and her hangover would cause her to be in physical pain all day on top of that.
"I love you, Donnie," the words sounded hollow. He could only take them with a grain of salt. She didn't care for him the way he cared for her. He wanted those words to mean so much more, but he knew they didn't. They were, once again, her trying to get to him. Just as the kiss had been. The thought of such things sunk the rock from his throat back down to his stomach, and he rested his head back on the couch that he had stationed himself in front of.
"I love you too, April," She'd never know it, but his words meant a hell of a lot more than her words ever could.
