April knelt in the grass, her gloves covered in soil. She reached for the trowel, jabbed it in the loose earth making a small hole. "Aster. Do you like them? These are purple, your favorite."
Her hands shook as she pushed the dirt around the base of the plant. "They'll grow tall, and bloom all summer." Her throat hurt for the knot rising to it and she stilled her quivering bottom lip, catching it between her teeth.
"April?" He called to her from the cover of the trees. Though he wasn't hiding. He had no reason to. The nearest farm wasn't for miles. "The sun's going down. If you need more time I could stay."
He could stay, just like his youngest brother offered to stay, his older and middle brothers had each offered to stay.
She didn't look at him. "I'm a kunoichi. I think I can handle sitting here in the middle of nowhere by myself."
He appeared in her periphery like a sleek, willowy apparition. "That's not what I meant."
She scoot down a few feet and stabbed at the earth again, making a second hole. "Just go," she grumbled.
And by go I mean stay. Stay and never leave me. Her heart clenched. Everyone she ever loved left, eventually he would too. Nothing lasted forever and everything that began must inevitably end. She sighed, wiped the back of her glove over her brow.
He didn't move, didn't speak, and she opted to ignore him. Reaching for the second plant she tucked it in the earth, pressing the roots into their new home. "These are zinnias. Dad said they were your favorite flowers. That's what he used to tell me, when your picture became blurry in my mind and I'd ask him to help me remember what you were like. He'd say you were like flowers the flowers you loved, bright and colorful, cheerful blooms of sunshine."
She set back on her haunches, stared at the two plots. "Maybe I should've bought two of the same plants, so they'd match."
Donnie's voice was a soothing, soft tone with a sympathetic lilt to it. "They're perfect, April."
How could he sound so hurt? He'd only ever had one parent and he was still alive.
She said nothing, her eyes on the two plots, one fresh turned, one grass covered. It was a marker really, since they'd never found her.
"What else did he say?" He prompted.
Her head snapped toward the trees, her eyes locking on his chestnut gems. "What do you mean?"
He hesitated before answering. "Your dad, what did he say to the other question you asked him?"
Her heart picked up pace, an annoying sputter that aggravated the hurt. "I never aske-"
"Yes, you did. You asked him what she was like, and how he remembered her? What did he say, April?" He spoke with a firmness, as if when he'd decided to ask the question he'd committed to his reasoning for doing so. Then he stepped forward, knelt beside her, and reached with tentative fingers for her gloved hands.
"H-h-how do you know I asked him that?" Her eyes were fixed on his, even as he slipped the gloves from her hands, his cool, green reptilian skin against her warm, human pink flesh. Her heart hardened a bit, wanted to lash out, seek someone to blame. "How do you know, Donnie?"
He frowned. "I came by one night to talk, and overheard you." He gave her fingers a squeeze. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to listen. I left right after. It was her birthday. I just thought-" The corners of his eyes seemed to mimic the downturn of his mouth.
His shoulders slumped as he looked from the flowers to her. "I just wanted to be there for you. But what I heard... what he said. I knew he had it covered. Now that he can't be here for you anymore I want to be. I want you to know I'm here for you April."
He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. She was torn between wanting to accept the comfort he was trying to offer, and the urge to be the one to soothe him. I'm here for you, April. His words were as good as his promise, but he didn't need to say them. She knew. He'd always been there⦠If he made a mistake he not only owned it, he made it right. If she needed anything she could count on him. If she screwed up he forgave her. If she succeeded they celebrated. He was there even when she tried to send him away. Friends like Donatello were as rare as a ninja turtle. And she was fortunate enough to call him hers.
He drew in a shaky breath. "Do you remember what he said?"
Tears filled her eyes. She'd shed so many in recent days it didn't seem fair that she could choke out anymore.
But she did remember. It was one of her father's less lucid days. Such trauma he'd endured through the years. She was lucky he'd been as sane as he'd managed for as long as he had. "I remember what he said, Donnie. But it didn't make any sense. The only thing I understood about that night was the flowers."
Donnie's eyes softened, a tender smile forming. "What did he say?"
April looked to his fingers, resting over hers. Just because she did remember didn't mean she wanted to, not when he was that way at least. "He said she was like the very best of a Northampton sky."
He lowered himself to sit in the bed of grass beside her.
"What does that even mean? How is a person the same as a sky?" She released his hand to rub her face. "I don't think he remembered, and he got so confused between reality and memory. It was probably dumb to even ask him in his condition."
When Donnie didn't say anything but she felt his eyes on her, she looked over at him. There was such kindness there, her chest warmed to be near him. He offered her a melancholy smile. "He said you, April. You reminded him of her in every way, from the blue of your eyes to the Northampton sky."
She frowned and tipped her head back to look up. "I don't get it."
Donnie said nothing as he joined her in staring up at the canopy of branches intertwining above them. Warm, golden rays filtered through the varied shades of green. There were gaps between the leaves, the deep summer blue of a late afternoon a fixture beyond. They sat quietly, long minutes passing. The sounds of rustling accompanied the shivers and trembles of each quaking leaf as a light breeze shook the arms of the trees. A single Bob White called his name from somewhere nearby, and the cicadas sang their song in a background chorus. She hadn't noticed any of it before. The air smelled of petrichor, remnants of yesterday's summer showers, or perhaps warning of another storm coming. She let out a soft sigh, and found herself scooting closer to Donnie. He opened an arm, letting her rest her head against his plastron.
She liked the way he smelled, like the pine of his weapon had seeped into his skin and it clung to him. It was a warm comforting fragrance with an underlying musk that was unique to him. He leaned back a bit, balancing on one hand, with his other arm still draped around her.
Rarely in the time that they'd known each other had the world around them moved so slowly. Even as grief-stricken as she was, she had the sense to relish that. They came there for her, he came there for her, to be there for her. "Donnie?"
"Y-yeah?" His voice came out a bit crackly and he cleared his throat. "Yeah?"
She twisted around to look at him. "You want to lie out in the middle of the field and stare at the sky until the sun goes down?"
He blinked a few times, his expression unreadable. Then all at once he was Donnie, like he'd shut down and rebooted and had all the answers. "Well there will be bugs, so we'll probably need insect repellant. Which I brought, in my-" He reached over his shoulder, tugging forth a black duffle bag. "-bag. I also brought water, a snack, and a blanket."
Her brow furrowed. "So yes, then?"
He gathered his long limbs with an easy grace, his movements smooth and fluid. Then he held out a hand to her and she took it, curling her fingers around his. "Where to?"
They walked in silence a while across the stretch of field, the grass tall and sprinkled with daisies. He picked one that had bent over halfway down its stem, and offered her the bloom. The warmth in the center of her chest spread out, like a balm soothing her tired soul. She slipped the stem behind her ear then announced. "Here is as good a place as any."
When he released her hand she felt some of the warmth slip from her and wanted it back again. He unfolded the blanket, a tattered purple plaid thing that looked like it had seen better days, but then so had she and it was probably the best he had. She sat down in the center of it, while he rooted through his bag, pulling forth a bottle of bug repellant. He sprayed himself then handed her the can. She halfheartedly splashed her arms and legs before returning it to him. To her surprise he sprayed her in various places.
"What are you doing?" she said flinching from the mist.
As he continued spraying her he explained himself. "You missed over half of your body. You could get bit and contract West Nile, at least three different kinds of Encephalitis, and-"
She held up a hand to stop him. "I'm fine, Donnie. Thanks."
He sighed as he put the lid back on and tucked the bottle in the bag. "I just don't want-"
She reached out and grabbed his hand again. "I know." Without another word she lay back, stretching out to stare up at the sky, tugging his arm along with her.
There was a slight whistle between the gap in his teeth then he slowly exhaled and lowered himself to lay down alongside her. "You know turtles don't exactly belong on their shells. In the wild I'd essentially be making myself vulnerable to preda-."
"Donnie," she sighed.
"Y-y-yes, April?"
"Shhh. If you're uncomfortable, move into a comfortable position. I'm here to look into the sky and find answers." She squeezed his hand. "I'm glad you're here with me."
From where they lay the sky seemed endless, deep layers of blue, beginning with a rich shade of delphinium that bled into cornflower, fading into something like a mix of hydrangea. The sun hung low towards her feet, a marbled rainbow of rose, marigold and daffodil. It was a cloudless horizon, and the longer she lay staring up at it, the more grounded she felt. The earth was solid against her back, and everything in the universe above her. And her best friend in the world beside her.
Quiet breath sounds drifted into her ear after a while and she turned her head to check on Donnie, whose fingers had slowly parted from hers. His eyes were closed, his mouth slightly open. His plastron rose and fell in a steady rhythm that brought a small smile to her face. She rolled to her side, propping her head up with one hand as she reached for the amethyst tails of his bandanna, just stopping herself from touching them. He would wake in an instant. And it was very seldom that he truly got to rest, without Raph banging around, or Leo barking orders, or Mikey getting into mischief.
The family genius did so much, for so many, every single day. Even then he was there for her, and when they returned to the farm there would be something to fix, or someone with a question, maybe even an injury. He was mechanic, engineer, doctor, brother and friend. Her eyes pricked, her fingertips aching to glide across his sculpted arms and feel every muscle beneath them. She wanted to trace the scutes along his shell, to press her face to his throat and breathe him in. She wanted desperately for him to know he was loved and appreciated.
But she'd never figured out how to tell him. The timing was never right. They were off saving the world, fighting a villain, rescuing someone, or one another. There was always something. As they lay there right then they were there for a reason.
Her arm began to ache and she curled it beneath her head, using it like a pillow as she watched him sleep. The magnificent creature that was Donatello. Gradually, the sun dipped beneath the horizon, the crickets joined the cicadas, and one by one the stars began to shine. Stars upon stars, upon stars, every tiny white speck, clustered together above them, around them, maybe even for them. A full paper white moon rose behind her, casting a pale white glow along the outline of him. The temperature dropped a bit and his breathing changed. He hummed softly as he opened his eyes and smiled at her. "I thought you were supposed to be watching the sky, searching for answers."
A wistful smile adorned her face as she reached out and stroked his cheek. "I think maybe I found them." She leaned closer, little thrills coursing through her as she breathed in his scent. His chocolate brown eyes darted over her face, wide and shining. "They're in your eyes, Donnie."
"Hmm?" His brow furrowed, his mask bunching between his beautiful amber gems. "What?"
Her lips brushed lightly over his, then again, before his hand swept through her hair and he kissed her back. After a moment their mouths hovered close, breathing each other in as she lifted her gaze to his and whispered, "The stars of a Northampton sky."
