April sat cross legged on her empty bed and stared at her phone, at the last contact under M, and willed her finger to move. To her frustration, the disobedient digit continued to refuse. Her finger was frozen, her hand was numb and shaking. "Just call him," she muttered aloud. "Just call him. What are you, a coward? Just call..." And still, her stupid finger refused to press the stupid contact.
Yes, oh yes, April O'Neil, who had faced down aliens, interdimensional monsters, mob thugs, robbers, psychotic mutants, and murderous ninjas, was a spineless coward.
She could not bring herself to press the damned button and call the damned turtle about that thrice damned night.
Ah, that horrible night. To this day, April would never understand the events that led up to that night. Never in a million years would she know what possesed her, possesed him, the both of them, to do what they did. Never in her wildest, craziest dreams did she ever think...
'Okay,' she thought, cutting off her mental harangue, 'that's not true.' And it wasn't. Maybe in the very craziest of her dreams, a long, LONG time ago. But that was when she was a teenager, a little girl.
And it had never been THIS turtle...it had always been his brother, the genuis. It had always been Donnie.
Let us take a trip down the memory lane of April O'Neil's awful life choices, shall we?
When she was younger, all those years ago, back when she had first met the turtles and their furry sensei, of course she had been curious. Shocked, yes. Intrigued, definitely. Weirded out? Sure. But mostly curious. She was a girl, after all, and they were boys, even though they were the strangest looking boys she'd ever seen.
But she'd been even MORE intrigued when she noticed the first tentative signs that Donnie was beginning to feel...stirrings for her. None of his brothers ever really expressed an interest.
Leonardo was so focused on his ninjitsu and pleasing his Sensei. That took up most (all) of his mental capacity and all his attention. Raphael and Michelangelo had always treated her like just another part of the family, as if she was a long lost sister, albeit a human one.
But Donatello...
Donnie was instantly taken with her, as fascinated by her as she was with them. April unavoidably discovered it, and was not proud of what happened next. She felt guilty about it to this day.
She mercilessly strung him along, pretending to be oblivious to his affections while she tried to reconcile with her own. For years she'd kept Donnie in suspense, tugging on his heartstrings here and there like a violin, jerking him around, teasing him horribly. She used to laugh to herself, watching as the tiniest gesture or smile of hers sent the purple banded turtle into blushing hysterics.
A hand placed gently on his arm made sweat bead on his neck. Hovering over his lap while he showed her something in the microscope caused him intense speaking deficits.
She had been a heartless bitch, and she knew it.
Eventually, Donnie had grown up and moved on, and so did she. Over time, their relationship cooled, and the childish awkwardness faded away. Casey's appearance in her life sped up that process, and now there was nothing but a comfortable friendship.
Well...mostly comfortable. There were those times when she saw something like regret flickering in Donnie's hazel colored eyes, an echo of what could have maybe been, if she hadn't been so...so...so scared of the unknown.
The few little fantasies she'd entertained about him never stuck in her brain, and the very thought of doing something so awkward with someone so strange had, admittedly, terrified her. And then Casey had come along. He had been normal, familiar. And she'd leaped for him, towards what she understood. He wasn't the best choice, but he was the ordinary choice, and she'd learned to make do.
Hence, her present situation.
A thin layer of sweat had gathered in the small of her back, and she was shivering slightly. Her finger was still poised over the button. April closed her eyes, hugging herself and letting out a moan of frustration.
She couldn't do this, she couldn't. It would be so much better if she just swept it under the rug and forgot about it. But the delicious soreness in her legs wouldn't let her forget, and neither would the stained sheets crammed behind the washing machine.
Thank God Casey didn't do the laundry. She'd have a hell of a time explaining THAT mess. He might have been proud, but he wasn't delusional. Casey's climaxes were never that...grandiose.
April inhaled, steeled her mind, and finally forced her finger downwards until it hit the screen. The ringing sent her heart into agonizing throbs, and she barely stopped herself from hitting cancel.
'I have to do this. I have to make this right...'
On the very last ring, the line connected, and his voice came through, sweet and bubbly as always. "Ch-yellooo?" April tried to take another deep breath, and failed, and her words came out as a whisper.
"H-hey Mikey..."
«»«»«»
Let us now go back to that NIGHT.
They had been celebrating. It was a joyous, happy occasion- Casey had gone back to school and gotten his degree, and the whole clan was proud of him, April more than anyone.
"No more leg breaker jobs for me, babe," he'd announced. "I'm gonna be making those big bucks." April had never felt more proud of him than when he presented her with the diploma.
She'd called the turtles, and they had been ecstatic. They came over immediately, and everyone ended up on the roof in the balmy summer air, watching the sun slip behind the bloody clouds as evening shifted into twilight, talking and laughing without a care in the world.
"I'm wonderin' how in the hell ol' bonehead here actually managed ta get a frickin' college degree." Raphael had laughed, twirling his Corona between his thick emerald fingers. Casey flicked a bottle cap at him, slinging an arm around April's waist.
"Shut it, Godzilla. I got ten times the brains you do in that heavy dome."
"College." Donatello sighed wistfully, staring out at the slowly setting fire in the sky. "What an opportunity..."
Mikey giggled and waved his hands in front of his brother's face, bringing him back to reality. "Donnie dreams of Harvard." he teased, swinging his legs over the edge of the roof. "He's been blabbering about it since we were ten."
Donatello browned and shrugged, circling the rim of his drink with one digit. "Online courses are great, but it's just not the same as actual University life."
"Oh yeah, Don. I'm sure you could apply for a scholarship...maybe the Underprivileged Mutant Grant program?" Mikey sniggered.
"I'm just saying...it would be nice to be able to do something normal for once. Like go to college."
April frowned slightly and shifted. "You know I hate it when you say that, Donnie. You are normal."
Donatello turned a blank gaze on her, and her face warmed, despite her not really knowing why. "Is that so, April?" he murmured quietly.
"Dude, if I was human, I would...drive a food truck, like all across America. Then I could just eat and drive and...yeah." Mikey cut across her answer, leaning forward so that he intercepted their view of one another. Freed from Donnie's strange stare, April cleared her throat and changed the topic.
"What about you, Leo?" she asked. A thoughtful look crossed the oldest turtles face, and he blinked slowly. "I don't know. I haven't really thought about it. I might start up a Dojo."
Raph took another swig from his bottle. "Bein' a mechanic might not be so bad. I could live with that."
Leonardo, with his watchful eye, allowed his brothers one beer each, himself drinking nothing, though everybody suspected that Raph had managed to sneak in a second and possibly a third before eventually pestering Leo into letting him have "One more." Eventually, by the time the sun had actually set, Raph was clearly drunk- getting emotional, slurring his words, and laughing at everything. When the red masked turtle started singing Lady Gaga, Leo and Donnie had elected to take him home.
Casey had left with them, needing to get to his late shift.
And then it had been just them, on the roof. April and Mikey.
She glanced at him and smiled, and he returned it. "Wanna help me clean up?" she asked. Mikey nodded. The last few rays of the light painted his seafoam colored face with dusky purple streaks, and his lake blue eyes glowed in the darkness. He helped her collect the plates, bottles, and cups from the roof, then carried them downstairs.
Even though she swayed a little, April was BARELY buzzed. Just barely. Looking back, she wished she had been wasted.
"The dishwasher is busted." she told him with a giggle. "I'll wash, you dry."
Mikey shrugged. "No prob." They chatted aimlessly while they cleaned up, until the talk faded into a comfortable silence.
Well, mostly comfortable.
There was a little bit of tension in the air, but it wasn't coming from April. It was coming from Mikey, and he seemed more distracted than usual. April was tempted to ask him about what was bothering him, but she knew Mikey and she figured he would come out about it by himself sooner or later.
Except...he didn't. More time passed, and Mikey held his silence, and the tension grew. He wouldn't meet April's eyes when she glanced at him, and his face was closed. Finally, she brushed a thick fringe of red hair back from her forehead with a soapy hand and placed it on her hip, turning bright green eyes on him.
"Alright, Mikey. What's wrong?"
"I dunno, Dudette. Raph in a Kesha wig? Guys with ponytails? Mannequins in G strings? Girls with beards? Lots of stuff." he answered evasively, giving her a wide grin. But the smile didn't reach his eyes, and she stared at him firmly.
"You know what I mean. What's up with you?"
Mikey looked away and shrugged, but his fingers tightened on the plate he was drying. "Oh. Nothing." It wasn't true, and they both knew it.
"Mikey, don't lie to me," April scolded, using her motherly tone. "I've known you too long, and I know when something's really bothering you."
"It's nothing April, really. I'm cool."
"Michelangelo, come on. Is it something going on at home?"
"No...can we drop it, please?"
"Do I have to call Leon-"
"Do you like Donnie?" he exploded suddenly, turning hard eyes on her. His question caught her off guard, and she did a double take.
"W-what?"
"Well do you?"
April exhaled and narrowed her eyes, wondering if he was serious or not. She had no idea where this was coming from. Maybe he was trying to grill her about the way she had treated Donnie when they were younger. But why would he wait until now to go into protective mode?
"That's not funny, Mikey."
Michelangelo's expression soured into a pout. "I wasn't joking." he muttered.
April blinked and plunged her hands back into the dishwater so she could look away.
"Okay...sure, I guess. I mean...Donnie's great. We've been friends since forever, you know that-"
"That's not what I meant." Mikey said, lower than before.
April snorted in annoyance. "Then what did you mean?"
"Ya know what, just forget it. I was just kidding." He turned away, but April put a hand on his shoulder. "Mikey..."
He sighed and met her eyes, looking more serious than she'd ever seen him look before. "I mean do you like Don...in THAT way. The other way. The way he used to like you."
April stilled. "You know I'm with Casey now."
He gave her a weird, crooked smile with little humor, and she knew that he'd noticed her not answering the question. "Yeah, but that doesn't mean anything, right? When you're with somebody, but like you don't really love them? They're kinda just there?" He sounded like he was accusing her.
April fought to keep herself from blushing, stuck between anger and guilt. For some reason, she felt like she'd been caught in a lie. She had forgotten how quickly and devastatingly Mikey could get to the heart of things.
"I-I love Casey, Mikey." she said. The words felt flat and dead in her mouth. "B-but I love you too, and Donnie, and Leo and Raph."
"Yeah. Sure."
April swallowed and twisted around- confused, flustered, and irritated. She dug her hands back into the sink, slopping water on her shirt, and started randomly groping for the remaining dishes. "Look, Michelangelo. I don't know why you- SHIT!"
A sharp, fiery pain laced its way up her arm, and she snatched it out, clutching it to her chest. "Ow, ow, ow..." Unthinking, she'd grasped a steak knife blade first and cut a long, jagged gash in her palm. Blood welled in her hand and streamed down her pale arm, turning the water pink and blossoming into crimson roses as it struck the grey surface. It didn't really hurt that much. The alcohol in her system was dulling the pain, but for some reason, she felt like crying. April stared at the blood welling between her fingers, blinking furiously and breathing hard through her nose.
Suddenly, Mikey's warm, three fingered hand was cradling her own. "Lemme see. Is it bad?"
"No..." Mikey uncurled her fingers from her palm and inspected the cut. It was long but shallow.
"Yeowch...sorry, Dudette. Here..." he grabbed a towel and wrapped it around her hand tightly. The bleeding slowed eventually, but Mikey kept a firm hold on her hand. "You okay?"
April sniffed and placed her hand on top of his, pulling away. "Yeah. I'm fine. Thanks."
Mikey recaptured her hand, seemingly reluctant to let it go. Something changed in the air then, and when she looked up, they were face to face, nearly nose to nose. April swallowed. His eyes, those pretty blue orbs...they were staring at her, pinning her to the floor. The innocent jokester mask had fallen away, replaced by a look she'd never seen on his face before.
April shivered, warm and flushing, and suddenly aware of how much Mikey had grown, how tall he was, how his rock like muscles flexed smoothly under his blue green skin...the slight, masculine aroma that surrounded him. A tremor of want rolled through her, mixing with her buzz and making her feel much more drunk than she really was and loosening her tongue.
"M-Mikey...why...why were you asking me all those questions? About Donnie...and Casey?"
She was shocked to see his bright blue eyes shining with tears.
"A-and my bros say I don't get stuff." he chuckled. When she didn't respond, Mikey let out a shaky exhale, and his green beak flushed a dark brown. "I-I had to know if you still liked Don and Casey...I just had to know..."
"Why?"
"B-because if you do..." He stopped and looked away, chewing hard on his bottom lip. He looked like he wanted to keep going so badly, but something wouldn't let him.
"Michelangelo, please."
He had to tell her. It was now or never. He couldn't live with this anymore.
"Then I don't have a chance at all...with you. C-cause...cause I love you, April, but I didn't know how to say it. But I...I love you THAT way..."
"Oh, Mikey..." April reached up and pressed her uninjured hand to his face. She had no clue what to say, but any words she might have said were demolished when Mikey turned his head and kissed her palm. She shivered again, harder. Heat crawled over her skin.
"M-Mi..." The rest of his name was lost and muffled as he leaned forward and kissed her tentatively. After a second of slow, frozen shock, she tentatively kissed him back, with a sigh of surrender.
She might have heard him mumble something about peaches, but she wasn't sure.