It's been forever since I've uploaded anything! This idea has been crawling around in my head for quite some time so I finally decided to put it out there. I hope you enjoy, and if you liked it or didn't like it, please review! I'd like to know what I could improve upon :)
I wish I could say that my interactions with my brothers have returned to normal. That my brothers have forgiven me for my deception, just as I have almost forgiven Michelangelo for his betrayal; but alas it is not so. I suppose I shouldn't be surprised that any of this has come to pass.
It's not as though they are angry with me however. Perhaps, and fairly so, distrustful of my ability to take care of myself, and certainly concerned.
...Well, maybe they're a little bit angry. Keeping secrets in a home full of ninjas proves to be a harrowing task in and of itself. Mostly though we keep harmless secrets that we, from time to time, divulge to only one other. Just as I know that Michelangelo, unbeknownst to (and against the orders of) Leo, has a top-secret candy supplier that is definitely NOT April; like how Raphael finds solace sitting in broad daylight underneath the sewer grates down by the boardwalk; and in the same way that Leonardo has (and continues to) take just a little bit more than he should from Master Splinter's sake stock, so too did I have my secret which I gave to Mikey.
I spend what feels like an eternity crammed into mere hours every day meditating if only to find forgiveness in myself to give to him. Being angry with him comes as easy as it should in a situation like this, yet it still feels weird...I don't know, dirty? I know he doesn't deserve my ire. What he deserves is my continued devotion. My devotion to him, his love, and what we share together.
So far however, all I've been able to give him is acerbic rejoinders and broken heart.
All he was trying to do was protect me. Mostly from myself, a popular position these days it would seem. He was right to do so, he knew that I would keep pushing myself until the end.
When I first told Mikey I was dying, he laughed. It wasn't his usually uplifting laughter, the kind that convinced you to play even though you knew he was a master video gamer and would totally kick your ass. It was the kind of laughter you hear from someone demanding the truth, who'd received a lie instead. Sometimes I wish I would've just laughed with him. It would've been so simply to chuckle the truth away, if only for a short time. But I couldn't do that to him. Not anymore.
"Mikey," I hastily tried to explain "I-I don't want you to overreact-"
He scoffs as he throws his hands in the air, "Overreact?!" I quickly pat the air in front of me with my palms, hoping that he gets the message and lowers his voice. He does lower his voice, if only to make me happy for a short period of time.
He hides his mouth his palms and takes a very deep breath as he really does try not to overreact, ultimately realizes that in this situation there is no such thing. "What do you mean don't overreact!?" he says in a begrudging but still courteous whisper. "Last night we were havin' like the best sex ever, and today you're dying. So tell me, what's the right amount of reacting?"
I know that he's really not angry with me though, not yet, so I don't take this cutting remark personally.
"And how long were you gonna wait to tell us?!"
He finds that keeping his voice even is simply impossible, so he just turns around and just breathes slowly. He knows he isn't thinking straight right now as tries feebly to hang on to the implausible belief that I was simply making it all up. He'd already perused the tattered leather-bound pocket notebook that houses a documentation of the progression of my illness. Everything from the insomnia and dizzy spells to the headaches and nosebleeds. My lover knows that I 'm not given to duplicity and even if I were, there wasn't a reason he could think of why I would do something so outrageous.
After taking a few deep breaths, he finally turns to me again imitating a visage of cool calculation that never quite suited him. "O-okay. Alright. You're dying." He gives chuckle but this one is more nauseating than it is reassuring, because I can make a pretty good guess about what will come next. I know because its the same chuckle that follows every explanation he's given me about what he broke and why it totally wasn't his fault. "Well you can fix it, can't you?"
I can't help but sigh. The words don't come to me easily for the first time in a very long while. There are very few things I can't fix. I've repaired living bodies, lifeless robots and everything in between. I struggle visibly to hide my discomfort with the question because I know that this will be much harder for him than it will be for me. I have already accepted this, but I still find myself completely under-prepared to deliver this kind of news to anyone.
Let alone him.
"There is no way to 'fix' this. I've cross-referenced my symptoms with every disease I could find that shares common symptoms and I've come up with nothing." I take a moment to calm myself, this excitement isn't good for me. "Which means that either its a disease which already exists that doesn't effect humans the way it affects us or it simply hasn't been discovered. So in short, I don't have a way to create a cure. I've found a way to slow it down, but it's not gonna hold forever."
Mikey was still sort of stunned, but he managed to regain awareness quickly enough to sputter out a response. "Oh man... The others aren't gonna take this well."
I really must have looked like I was caught in the headlights because Mikey's expression turn to one of disbelief.
"You WERE planning on tellin' them right?" I continue to stare blankly as I try to understand how the word 'no' could've disappeared from my vocabulary so quickly.
"Donatello."
That word brings me back to reality; and the way he says it... it makes my skin cold and prickly. He almost never says my full name, it always felt too formal for him. When he does it, it usually means that I've overlooked something so serious that it actually made him angry.
"What were you gonna do? Die then leave us a note?" His tone is so appropriately biting that forming a useful response seems impossible.
"W-well I..." I trail off, pretending that there was no such note which had already undergone several draft revisions sitting inconspicuously on my desk.
I've found that the tradeoff for sharing such a powerful love with someone is that its pretty easy for them to walk through a door to your mind and read it like a book. Maybe my eyes for a split second darted towards that very desk without my permission. Perhaps his ability to read his brothers, and me especially, is just much better than anyone in our family gave credit.
His face twists into an unfamiliar scowl."You are un-fucking-believable," He spat with near-palpable disgust. He was right, of course. It still hurt though. All of my rational thinking and carefully molded plans for handling this situation went out the window as my timid ,nervous wreck of an attitude becomes one of indignation.
"I'm unbelievable?" I frown as my already racing heart began to push itself even further. "I tell you I'm dying and you BERATE me!"
"You don't get to have hurt feelings." His voice now is low bordering on inaudible as a he points an accusatory finger. " You were gonna leave me, US, all alone without saying a word. Dude, that's the most selfish thing I've ever seen you do."
I find myself taking a deep breath before responding. Selfish? After everything I've done for him?! Our family!
"I'm sorry," I try to use a mockery my calmest voice, "I didn't realize that sparing my family months of anxiety, fear, and sadness was inconsiderate." I shrug, knowing how much he hates it when I do this during our arguments. I turn to walk away with an inward wince because I know it was sort of a low blow.
"W-wait a minute," he sputters as he moves to tail me across the length of my lab, "You only have a few months?! That's it?!"
The gentle whirring of the oscillating fan fan in the center of the expansive room is all that can be heard as I ponder a response.
"They need to know." His tone of voice leaves absolutely no room for discussion.
"You wouldn't." A dare if anyone had ever heard one. I turn around to show him I'm serious and I find I'm standing there, alone.
I can't help but replay that scene over and over in my head. I was prepared to take the blame for hiding something so crucial, I was prepared for him to tell me that it was over. That our love affair was something that under present circumstances could not continue. I would've understood.
What I was not prepared for, was guilt. The fact that he wasn't leaving me, and that this decision to hide the imminence of my death no longer affected only me. At least if he'd broken it off then and there, I wouldn't have felt like such a selfish jerk asking him to not tell any of the others. Only now do I realize how awful of a thing I asked him to keep inside of himself. I think deep down I knew that he wouldn't keep something like that to himself. I should've known that he would have the courage to do what I could not.
Only now do I realize why there was no way he could be held to such a request.
I have to remind myself of this every time I have to cut my participation in practices short because of the limitations that Splinter has placed on my physical activity; every time I am bitterly reminded that my role when my brothers and I are top-side is strictly non-combat. My only usefulness aside from piloting Metalhead is now making sure that the Shellraiser doesn't get towed.
I look at my Bo staff, weapon turned ornament, as it lies in one of many unlit corners in my lab. I think about how I used to be a ninja and not merely an actor with a bunch of fancy gadget. I get angrier and angrier thinking about how my health liability might get us all killed one day. Then shows up in my doorway. That goofy grin of his appears, just for a moment. Long enough for me to hope. Long enough to let go of my hurt for just a minute. "Hey D, its time to get in touch with your inner genius." He says this as easy as he ever did. Yet another thing to inspire my envy I suppose.
Meditation time.
Mikey doesn't wait for me to address him, but his words leave me at a loss. It feels like he hasn't called me "D" in ages. In truth, it feels like we haven't talked in ages. Maybe after today's meditation, I'll finally be able to own my mistake, instead of passing the buck on to the messenger.
I can only hope. My forgiveness is just the beginning of what he deserves.