All Donatello could do was stand there, arms hanging limp at his sides, shock on his features. She kissed me, he thought. There was still a tingling feeling on his lips, like fire, like electricity, and a sort of numbness had taken hold in his extremities. Why did she do that? He wondered. He was so confused. The day before, she had pretty much rejected him. It was a silly thing to do, give her the kind of gift that he had, but he thought...well, he had just wanted to do something nice, give her something small and simple to remind her of being at home. They had been through so much crazy, he thought that maybe a music box would make her feel a little less lost. She had mentioned her collection of them at some point, when she was living with her father in the city. She talked about all of the foreign places they had come from, about the stories behind every one. No doubt they were long gone now, and she had seemed so sad lately, and Donnie really just wanted to do something nice.
A cold, prickly wave of embarrassment washed over him when he remembered April darting out of the room. He couldn't really see the expression on her face, but it had been so clear that she was uncomfortable, clearer now in retrospect. She obviously didn't want anything to do with him, not like that anyway. Not in the way that he wanted. That was fine, he had told himself. It was okay if she didn't return his romantic affections, because he knew they could still be friends and, honestly, that was good enough for him. At least, that was the mantra he had been repeating to himself when he finally mustered up the courage to approach her in the barnyard. He had a much more elaborate speech prepared than he had managed to give to her, but his words hadn't come out as confident as they sounded when he practiced it, and it was all he could to to fight the rambling that always overtook him when he became nervous. He hadn't really meant to say the last thing he said. I'm just a mutant, he thought. It sounded so pitiful, like it begged for a sympathetic response, or an apology. He hadn't meant to say it, it just sort of slipped past his lips.
And then she had kissed him. Why did she do that? A storm roiled in Donatello's stomach, and he finally managed to unfreeze himself. He ran. He ran and he ran, going nowhere in particular, just away, out into the woods where hopefully none of his brothers or friends would stumble across him for a while. His heart raced, blood rushing loudly through his head and completely deafening him. He ran and he ran until he felt like he might collapse, until his legs buckled beneath him and he sank to the grassy forest floor. There he stayed for several seconds, hands and knees the only thing keeping him from falling in the dirt. He was shaking so hard he thought he might rattle out of his shell.
Deep breaths, he thought, eyes fluttering closed. In...2...3...4...out...2...3...4...
His heart didn't slow down, but his lungs finally began to open back up. He peeked at his shadow on the ground; the sun was high, casting a perfect sillhouette of Donatello before him. The tails of his mask blew playfully in the breeze, as though they had no idea they should also be distressed and confused. He pushed himself back, onto his rearend in the grass.
"I don't understand what you want," he muttered into the empty woodland. The past three years that he had known April O'Neil, she had never been particularly easy to understand. Her character was so very well defined; she was strong, courageous, compassionate, sweet, a little dangerous. She was so very beautiful in all of the right ways. She always did what she thought was right, no matter the personal cost.
It was that great big heart of hers that was so very confusing. It was so hard to tell what she was feeling, what she wanted. She had always pretty much kept to herself when it came to that kind of stuff – the mushy, girly stuff that she should really be teaching them about. It seemed a girl like her ought to wear her heart on her sleeve, ought to be forthright and demanding like she was with everything else in life. She always knew what she wanted, and she always made it clear to every one around her. She never hid her desires, except, of course, until now.
It did seem clear, at least, that what she didn't want was Donnie. It seemed so clear until about ten minutes ago, when she had proclaimed him "hers" and had stolen a kiss right from his lips. That wasn't something that an uninterested person did. Or was it? Donatello was so confused.
April, cool and collected, strolled inside the barn, trying to ignore the stammering sounds coming from Donatello behind her. She closed the door and leaned on it, before completely freaking out.
Oh no, she thought, what did I just do?
That wasn't the way she had wanted their first kiss to happen at all. It wasn't fair to leave him so baffled, she knew that, but now her heart was hammering so hard against her ribs that she didn't think she could hold a conversation without passing out. All she could do was stand there, barring the door with her body, and hope that he didn't try to approach her about it just yet.
So much was swirling around inside of April's head lately. Truth be told, she wasn't sure what she wanted. She had lost so much recently, and part of her knew that all he wanted was for her to be happy. I'm not ready to move on, though, she thought. Mourning needed to be done, not just by her but by Donnie as well. They had all been through hell in just a short period of time, and honestly she was a little bit angry with him for still pushing his affections right now. This was the worst time for them to try to figure out a relationship. There would be complications, she didn't kid herself about that. He might, though. He hadn't really acknowledged their differences until just today, and that acknowledgment had sparked so much hope in April's heart that she had acted foolishly.
It felt like she was leading him on.
Was she really, though? It wasn't because she didn't feel the same way that she had rejected him for so long. I like him, I do, she reasoned. What wasn't to like? Donnie was sweet, he was funny, he was smart! Honesty also seemed to be something he was getting very good at. April hadn't really contemplated how creepy and weird he had been toward her, but it was occurring to her now that he had thought about it a lot. He was embarrassed. He had come to her in humiliation to apologize and offer her an out, and instead of accepting his apology or thanking him like a sane person would have done, she just went and fucking kissed him. She was such a horrible friend – no, she was such a horrible person! Of course if she kept throwing him bones here and there he would keep coming back. He liked her a lot, and every time he started to back off she would beckon him back, beg for his attention.
It wasn't because she didn't find him attractive, either. Sure, he was a giant, mutated turtle with more reptilian features than human, but he had a very human heart and a very human soul. His appearance had been startling when first they met, but it wasn't any scarier than Casey's. Donnie had a cute smile, and pretty brown eyes, and a sort of demeanor about him that could change from intimidating to a small, nervous teenager, to...to...beckoning. He could be beckoning. April huffed a little laugh at that, wondering what Leo or Raph would say if they heard her use that word to describe him.
There was also this weird thing happening with Casey that made her hesitant to really commit to Donnie. Not that she liked Casey a whole lot in that way; he was actually kind of gross and a little rude, if she thought about it. Maybe she would have liked him if they had met a little bit earlier. Things might be totally different if she had met Casey when she was younger. She used to like so many of his personality traits; the way that he just assumed that she was interested in him because they spent time together, the way he invaded her personal space without asking...at one point, that would have been charming.
Freshly-18 April, though, found something much more sweet in Donnie's shy, apologetic approach. She sank to the dusty barn floor, back still planted firmly against the doors.
"I'm sorry, Donnie," she whispered. "I don't know what to do."
Much to his credit, Donatello didn't approach April about the kiss that day. He managed to sit through dinner with the gang without even looking like anything had changed. He kept throwing April glances here and there, but it was actually much less than he would normally look at her. She kept her eyes glued to her plate as much as she could, mostly lost in her own head that night.
He hardly spoke to her the following day, either, and he stayed quite occupied with training and trying to keep Leo on his feet as much as he could. Part of April was grateful, because she didn't really want to talk about it and Leo really needed the attention. He had mostly healed up, but he was still fragile in ways that weren't physical. It was just another testament to Donnie's amazing personality.
She tried to distract herself by interfering with the spar happening in the yard between Casey and Raph, but she found herself unable to focus and getting thrown around a lot. The two were smarter than to apologize, but there was a knowing look on Raphael's face that said "We are going to talk about this later."
Donnie didn't approach her the next day, either. She started to wonder if it really hadn't been as big a deal for him as she thought. Maybe kissing him on the lips held just as much (or as little) intimacy for him as kissing him on the cheek. The more she thought about it, the more it made sense. He wasn't human, after all, so why would that kind of contact mean anything special to him? Maybe it was only April who was all shook up about it being their first kiss.
Maybe it wasn't his first kiss.
An odd sort of gurgly, jealous feeling took April over for a moment, and she had to laugh. Of course it was his first kiss. There was no way that anyone could think she was the most amazing thing they had seen unless they had a very limited experience with women.
The next day, Donnie still didn't say anything. In fact, he had been avoiding the hell out of her the past few days, doing everything he could to stay preoccupied elsewhere. He would make excuses to leave the room when she entered, and it was starting to feel...well, awkward.
That evening, though, Raph did approach her, arms crossed.
"So, April," he said, his gruff voice startling her from the bathroom doorway.
She was just washing her face up before bed, and her shoulders slumped in relief when she saw her friend's reflection in the mirror. "Hey, Raph. What's up?"
Raphael leaned on the door frame, eyes narrow. "You wanna tell me what's up with you and Donnie? He hasn't been talking to or about you for, like, a week, and that's kinda weird."
April felt her cheeks flush, and she covered her face with a towel under the guise of drying her skin. She gave a shrug and said, muffled by the towel, "I dunno. We've all been pretty busy lately."
"Uh huh."
When April dared peek at him, he was regarding her with narrowed eyes.
"We have been pretty busy. That must be why he runs away every time he sees you, and why he turns red and changes the subject every time I try to talk to him about it."
Her heart sank a little and she finally set the towel on the counter and turned to face Raphael. She opened her mouth to speak, but felt her cheeks go hot again, so she gazed at the floor. Quietly, timidly, she said:
"I...may have kissed him a few days ago."
Oh, god she could feel Raph study her. "Uh huh," he said, slowly. "So, like you do every time he saves your life? Or what?"
"This...may have been different." The breath was leaving her body and her heart was pounding again. "This...may have been on the lips. And I may have called him...mine." The last word was barely a whisper.
After several painful seconds, she looked up; Raph was staring at her, eyes wide. "You...KISSED him on the MOUTH?"
April's blush deepened and she quickly covered Raph's mouth with her hand, hissing "Shhhh!" But then Raph was laughing and pushing her arm away.
"Geez, I should have known it was something stupid like that. April, just tell me this: did you mean it?"
April glanced past him into the hallway, praying that nobody else had heard Raphael's proclamation.
"April." His voice was firmer this time, and he took her by the shoulders. Wow, the look on his face was kind of dangerous. "Did. You. Mean. It."
April swallowed dryly and gave a short nod, followed by a furrowed brow and a "Yes – I mean, I think so – I didn't not mean it, anyway, but-"
He gave her shoulders a gentle squeeze and a surprisingly soft smile. "Alright. That's all I needed to know. All this weirdness finally makes sense." He turned down the hall and – was that it? He wasn't going to grill her or reprimand her or, the most likely option, yell at her?
"Oh, April," he said, over his shoulder, when he reached his bedroom door, "you should really talk to him about it. I think it's distracting him and, much as I hate to admit it, we kinda need him to focus right now."
April just nodded, dumbly, and stared as Raphael closed the door.
It had been five days now since the "incident." That was what Donatello was calling it, in his head, because if he thought about April kissing him he got all blushy and gooey and weird feeling, and the butterflies would come back, which was all good and fun and beautiful, except along with all of those things came the uncertainty, the dread, the confusion and the embarrassment. As time passed, the thought of asking April about it became more and more daunting. His original intention had been to confront her the following morning, demand an explanation, that she stop playing with his heart and just tell him what she felt.
When he saw her in the kitchen that morning, though, Michaelangelo had been there and Donnie didn't want to bring any of this up in front of him (or anyone else, for that matter). It just seemed impossible to get her alone, though, and now it had been days and she seemed completely casual, like she had pretty much forgotten what happened.
Theories about the kiss began to form in Donnie's mind. She may have just meant to give him a quick kiss on the cheek, it wasn't something uncommon for her to do and maybe her aim was off, she had leaned pretty far forward. Perhaps it was just her way of getting him to stop talking, though he didn't think she was that cold.
The thing that seemed most likely, though, the thing that just wouldn't leave Donatello's mind, was the idea that she had only kissed him out of pity. He'd made her feel guilty with the Bigfoot comment, and she just wanted him to feel like he was lovable. Maybe she just felt sorry for him because his apology had been so pathetic and she didn't want him to feel bad for being such a jerk. He had been a jerk, he thought, and now he was beginning to feel even worse.
He didn't mean to avoid her so much, it was just that every time he saw her that blush would creep back into his cheeks and all he could think about were her lips, her soft, beautiful, sweet lips against his, and the gentle clean aroma of soap and perfume drifting off of her face and hair. He wished he had acknowledged her actions better, that he had put his hands on her waist, or her shoulders, or even just kissed her back! Anything!
It was day five now, though, and the longer he waited the more surreal it seemed, the more it felt like a mistake. That's all it was. She didn't really mean it. He had confused her. As the sun began to cast an orange evening glow over the farm, Donatello, seated on the front steps of the house, rested his chin on his knees and gave a wistful sigh. His heart felt heavy; his head was still spinning. His stomach hurt a little. He tightened his arms on his legs and watched the sunset. The shimmering rays cast a gentle shadow from the barn and across the yard. Raphael was cutting wood for the fireplace as Leo and April duked it out in hand-to-hand, taking turns tossing each other to the ground, laughing as they fought playfully. The aroma of something cooking was just beginning to drift from beyond the screen door. It was only a matter of time before it reached his brothers, and everyone would dash inside for dinner. Mikey and Casey's voices could be heard from the kitchen, just faintly enough for Donnie to know they were there.
It should have been comforting. It should have been a sweet, relaxing sight that felt like home and family. Instead, all Donnie could think of was April. He watched her landing pretty impressive blows, doing a good job even knocking Leonardo over. She had learned so much in her time training with Master Splinter. She was almost like a real Kunoichi.
Thinking about that brought blood again to Donnie's cheeks, and he was startled by a loud CLANG CLANG CLANG! directly above his head, and Mikey's voice shouting "GRUB'S ON!"
Donnie covered his ears with his hands, wearing an irritated expression, and glared up at Mikey, who was grinning down at him; he was beating a pot with a wooden spoon.
"Supper time!" He proclaimed, before skipping gleefully back indoors. Donnie thought to dart after him and tackle him to the ground for trying to burst his eardrums, but as he stood up he heard April's voice say,
"Go on in, Raph, I'll take the rest of this inside."
"Thanks, April!" And then Raphael and Leonardo were whizzing past him into the house.
When Donnie glanced back out into the yard, he saw April carrying several pieces of split wood from the ground into the barn.
It's now or never, he thought. Adrenaline shot through his veins and his heart started up again, that incessant thump thump thump thump that began any time he thought about trying to talk to April. He hadn't even moved yet and he was already trembling. Come on, Donnie, he chided himself, you can't avoid it forever. It's gotta be done.
With a deep, shaky breath, Donnie called softly, "I'll help you, April." And tried not to wince at the surprised look she gave him.
He marched across the yard. Every step felt like someone was pouring ice down his shell, and when he finally got to where she was gathering up logs, he could barely function. He wordlessly picked up several pieces of wood, stacking them high in his left arm, before carrying them off into the barn and stacking them neatly onto the existing pile.
April walked next to him and did the same. He stood there, suddenly somehow feeling ten times more squeamish than he had a moment ago. He tried to start a cohesive sentence, opening his mouth several times to say her name, or to say "about the other day," or really to say anything, but all he could do was open and close his mouth like some dumb fish, staring at the log pile. His face was burning like a supernova.
It wasn't until April spoke that Donnie realized they had both been standing there, staring at the wood.
"I'm sorry if I startled you," April whispered.
Donnie's neck popped with the swiftness he turned his head to look at her. "I'm sorry," he replied. "I didn't mean to—those things I said, I was just...I'm starting to realize that some of the stuff I've done lately has been kind of creepy, and stalker-ish, and I totally get if you are completely uncomfortable around me. I didn't—when I said that I was just a mutant, I didn't really mean it in a bad way, I mean, I get it, you're cool being friends but...other stuff, that's just...it's complicated stuff, and you have Casey so it isn't like you really need me and-" oh no, the rambling had started. It was so hard to shut that off once it began and he tried to stop talking but it just wouldn't stop pouring out. His eyes started to water and he blinked rapidly, fighting away tears. He absolutely did not come here to make April feel guilty tonight. He wasn't going to cry. Not here. Not now. "-I just want you to know that just because you...because we...uh..." the blush spread to his neck and shoulders, and he shrank down. "I don't expect you to...you know...it isn't like it was that big of a deal, and I have been behaving so improperly lately, April, I'm sorry, I just..." He took a deep breath and just stopped talking for a moment, taking in the completely taken-aback expression on April's face. She was just sort of...frozen there. Like a statue.
Donnie's gaze fell to the floor and he tried to breathe. His vision got more watery. It was like he was being strangled and kicked in the stomach, and cold chills ran down his back and rippled down his arms to his palms while fiery embarrassment scorched his face and seared his chest. "I just want a straight answer." He managed. His voice wavered much more than he anticipated, but he got the words out. He managed to look at April.
She looked concerned. Well, no, the look on her face was really more one of pity than sympathy. She just stared up at him, eyes huge, body locked in place. Her posture was so solid, and Donnie was shaking so hard he thought he was going to vibrate into a puddle onto the floor. A floor puddle would actually be quite preferable to the state he was in now.
April was quiet for so long, Donnie started to wonder if she was going to speak at all. I scared her, he thought, I scared her and now she is never going to speak to me again.
After several more quiet, charged moments, all the while Donnie fighting off the urge to fall on the ground sobbing, he willed all of his strength to his lungs and said, "So, that's all. I just wanted to tell you that. I'll uh...I'll see you at dinner."
He stared at her unsettling expression for a moment longer, before turning to leave.
"Donnie, wait!"
A warmth was on his arm, April's hand, and she was pulling him back toward her.
"I know you want an answer," she whispered. She was clinging to him now, her grip so tight it was like she was afraid he's blow away. She had both hands wrapped around his arm, and when Donnie looked up from her hands to her face he was startled to see how close she was. "I'm sorry I have been so...so...unpredictable. I like you, Donnie, I really do."
The butterflies came back to join the cacophany of sensations buzzing around Donnie's body. "You do?"
April laughed. "Of course I do!" Her face softened. "Of course I like you. It's just that we have been going through so much lately, I don't really know what I want. I have lost so much, you have lost so much, there is so much work we need to get done here and quickly! Leo is still hurt, and even if he won't admit it he needs support from us. From his brothers. From you. We should all be focusing on a plan to retake the city and find the people we lost." She gave him a gentle squeeze and stepped even closer, and now she was right in Donnie's space and she was just lingering there. She smelled so amazing, cedar and dust and something sweet and undefinable and undeniably April and Donnie's heartbeat just kept getting faster and faster, like his heart would burst from his shell and that feeling like he was going to break down into tears just kept getting stronger and stronger.
"It wouldn't be fair for either of us to try to figure this out right now," April said, voice barely above a whisper. "I haven't returned your affections yet, Donnie, and I know you probably feel like I have just been dangling myself in front of you and I'm really sorry. I want you to know that it isn't because I don't like you. I do like you. I like you a lot. And not like a 'friend' like you." She swallowed and – hey, she was blushing!
A tiny drop of relief hit Donatello in the chest. She was staying a lot cooler than he was, but she was just as freaked out. He suddenly felt much less silly, and something akin to gratitude started to surge through his mind.
"I think that, someday, we can do this. I really do. But right now, right now we are barely 18 years old and the fate of the world is resting on our shoulders and you have a sick brother and I have a missing father and I just think that we should be worried about that right now."
Donnie gave a mute nod, but he could barely focus on what she was saying because I like you a lot still kept ringing through his head. He tried to listen, he tried really hard, and April's moment of silence was enough for his brain to catch up.
"I understand," he said, solemnly. "I'm sorry that I have been so pushy. I'm so sorry, April."
"It's okay," April smiled. "I mean," her brow furrowed. "It isn't okay. But I forgive you."
"Thank you," Donnie whispered. "And I can wait. I will wait. I promise."
"Thank you," April said in gentle response. She cupped his cheek with her hand, and Donnie's eyes fluttered closed of their own accord. She brushed his cheek with her thumb, and some of the icy anxiety started to melt into something else, something warm and fuzzy and welcoming. "Thank you for always waiting."
"Anything for you, April," he whispered, and he felt her other hand on his other cheek. A blush rose up to meet it there, and Donnie found himself covering her hand with his own, not wanting to lose the slightest bit of contact.
"As soon as we get this all figured out," she said, her voice a promise and her tone low.
"Just have to wait until the world is back in order," he agreed, opening his eyes only slightly to look at her face. Her beautiful, pale face, dappled with freckles and the most amazing blue eyes he had ever seen in his life. His racing heart skipped a beat.
"That's all. Then we can start figuring this out." April was moving closer with her words, and oh, oh god it was going to happen again. She was pulling his face toward her with those hands, those glorious, soft, warm hands, and Donnie felt another shiver make its way along the length of his entire body, but it was a good shiver this time.
"Right. Later." He agreed, and then those lips were on his again, firm but soft and it took seconds for Donnie to react, to kiss back, to move his free hand tentatively to her back. He was rewarded by more contact and she pulled closer to him, the hand that wasn't covered by his moving to the back of his neck and pulling him closer for a deeper kiss. Her entire body was up against his now, and Donnie couldn't stop the small whimper that escaped his throat when she pressed against him.
When she broke the kiss, which had really only lasted briefly, she moved straight into a hug, wrapping both arms around his neck and burying her face there. Her hair tickled his cheek and he held her tight, just held her because he couldn't speak, couldn't move because April O'Neil, the most beautiful girl on the entire planet had just kissed him on the lips for the second time that week and now she was embracing him like it was the most important thing she had ever done.
"Or, you know, we could just start to figure it out now," she said, quietly. Her breath ghosted against his neck and he shuddered, holding her tighter.
"Yeah, we could do that," he agreed. "I mean, only if you want to. If you don't, I understand," Oh man, Donnie stop trying to talk yourself out of this! This is what you want! This is what you have always wanted! He swallowed. No, what he always wanted was for April to be happy. Above all, that was what mattered, and if that meant no more...no more of this for a little while, or a long while...that was what he would do.
"You big dumb mutant, of course that's what I want." She pulled away from him, but kept her arms around his neck and suddenly, he knew. He understood. She was just as terrified as he was, and she was ready to try to work beyond this...this weird barrier that they had up for so long, and this weird-inter-species-mutant-thing, but it was going to be alright. Everything was going to be okay.