Chapter Two: The Favor

Donatello slowly eased the painted screen closed after the last of his brothers had filed out. Once they were gone, he and Master Splinter were alone in the dojo.

Master Splinter had taken a seat on one of the practice mats and was striking a match. Cupping one hand close to shelter the flame, he used it to light a jar-candle. Once the wick had caught, he set it down on the floor in front of him and watched the dancing flame for a moment. Momentarily he spied Don from the corner of his eye, standing frozen by the door. He did not speak but motioned to his second eldest son, bidding him to approach.

Don's heart was hammering and he felt strangely detached from the rest of his body as he started across the room. Even in moments like this one, there remained a part of Donatello's mind that was stubbornly logical and eternally calculating. Right now it was calmly taking note of his symptoms, cross-referencing them with what he could recall from his medical textbooks, and concluding that this light-headedness was definitely normal panic and not a full panic attack. He forced his breathing to slow as he closed the remaining distance, which helped, and came to stand in the lowered pit before his sensei and father.

"Kneel, my son," the wise old rat indicated the ground between them with a dip of his long, whiskered nose.

Donatello flashed him a timid smile before dropping down obediently and bowing his head low. Canting his head ever so slightly, he tried to peek up at Splinter's face with the hope that he might see something to disprove his pessimistic hunch. But while the elderly rat's glossy black gaze was completely benevolent, there was also something deeply probing and impossibly wise there that quickly forced Donatello's eyes back down to the floor.

He stared at that spot on the ground between his splayed three-fingered hands. Calm yourself. His logic was speaking fiercely. The odds favor any number of other reasons. You've been at this for a long time now. You've been careful, and not once- But it was no use. His logic was conquered by a single, simple dread.

He knows.

Donatello had no explanation to accompany his certainty, no proof or evidence beyond the surety of his intuition. Perhaps it was some uncanny communication possessed by Splinter that did not need to reach beyond his wise, old eyes. He knew. And so the question became, how much did he know?

"I am sorry to have put on such a show in front of your brothers, Donatello. But I felt I must get their attention, and yours, my son. I have seen your struggle, and I have seen your uncomplaining generosity. I have been lenient with you of late, because of the pressure you have suffered willingly in Leonardo's absence. I have seen how hard you have worked for the sake of this family, and the sacrifices you have made. You have stepped away from your True Path… set aside your very dreams for us. And so I have been every bit as sad for you as I have been proud."

Donatello could say nothing yet, his cheeks darkening with a blush.

"I had hoped, perhaps," Splinter continued, quietly "— that once the unfair burden of this duty had been lifted…" He paused and seemed to choose his words carefully. "That once it was no longer required of you to be strong for the sake of your family, that you might remember that you can always confide in us… "

"As your sensei… for a year now, I have not been demanding. I have allowed you much privacy and solitude. As your father, I believe… I have been very patient."

"Yes," Donatello agreed softly, peeking up now to check Splinter's expression. This conversation wasn't unfolding at all like he had expected. Particularly this uncommon stalling…

Oh! Master Splinter... Realization swept over him suddenly, and came so unexpected that Donnie couldn't keep his wonder from spilling onto his face. I… understand now. He's just as anxious and embarrassed as I am. For some reason this thought helped immensely by putting his situation into a new perspective. He felt the sick knot of dread in his stomach unclench and start to dissipate.

"My son," Splinter said softly, clearing his throat. "It is time we spoke about the disturbances. I have felt them now and then, always late at night. It is hard to describe. Rather like the skin between worlds were tearing…"

"Temporal displacement," Donnie offered quietly, not meeting his gaze.

Splinter dipped his nose slightly, agreeing, "Mmn. A bit like… drawing a door to the Battle Nexus."

"Right. Almost. Except – you know, that one would cross great distances and this one—"

"—Spans time, yes." Splinter concluded, faintly wry at Donatello's quick underestimation of him. He was no wizard when it came to technology, but nor was he a stranger to the more mysterious workings of the world. "And is not time a rather dangerous toy? I had hoped your adventures by now would have impressed upon you a healthy respect for this, nature's most powerful of forces…"

"But Master, I – of course I respect time. It's never me playing with it. I mean, I haven't exactly tried to stop her either, but she is a… well." He trailed off with a small, awkward laugh. "As close to a trained professional as I'm likely to meet, anyway. Not quite like Lord Simultaneous, but ah. Considering the limited scope of our studies together so far, I don't really care to bother him for lessons…"

"Hmn," Splinter replied with a short grunt, letting his gaze drift off thoughtfully. "Again you speak in half-truths and continue to hide from me. But please, allow me to speak in whole-truth, and try to understand. More than the disturbances accompanying your late-night visitor, I have noticed the sudden and abrupt changes to your scent. Yes, I have smelled that apprentice girl on you. I can see her face clearly in my memory, but cannot seem to recall her name…"

"Renet," Donatello offered weakly.

"Yes, yes…" the rat bobbed his head serenely. "Renet. That was it." His gaze shot back to Donatello and he noted with equal parts delicate humor and kindness, "If you truly wished to hide from me… perhaps you would have been wiser to always have taken a shower before coming to breakfast that following morning, eh…?"

Donatello, quite mortified by this 'whole-truth', could only stare for a moment before mumbling, "Would someone. Just. Shoot me now, please."

"So much shame…" Splinter reprimanded him gently. "This, too, I have sensed in you. Any of your brothers may have gloated at such conquest, but you have hidden this from us all."

The purple-masked turtle nodded slowly at this. "I have always been rather different from my brothers."

"Yes," Splinter acknowledged. "You are unique among them for your relentless curiosity. You also possess an experimental nature that is tempered well by your intelligence, your practicality, and your caution. And through all of these, you have gained an understanding of women… in all their complexity! In this you surpass your brothers–" his sensei allowed a very slight smile to lengthen the whites of his front teeth, "—and for that matter, myself. But surely you must see that these are not bad qualities, my son. Why, then, do you think your heart is troubled?"

"It's difficult to say," the teen sighed quietly, shifting his weight from one leg to the other. He hesitated, but eventually gave his best guess. "Maybe… one reason is because I do not love her, sensei."

Splinter nodded slowly, troubled by this. "And yet you pursue her."

"Well…" the terrapin's olive green lips twisted in a guilty smirk as he clarified, "Actually, one could argue that it was Renet who pursued me. But… yes." At this his mirth vanished. "I've allowed it to continue. At first I think I was truly mistaking my attraction for her as – something more. And it was just so novel at the time, sensei – that she could want me at all! As a servant of time, she has seen so many strange and exotic races – and it was like sweet music to hear her tell me that I was no where near the strangest."

"You tell me you do not love her, my son," the old rat observed. "But then you go on to speak of this lady friend with what sounds like fondness to my ears."

"Oh, well, I certainly don't hate her! You DO remember how she looks, right? I mean, there's no denying it. She's completely stunning. And always running around in those thigh-high… things that she wears? And, okay. A very stupid hat. But-" Donatello rolled his shoulders in a what-can-you-do shrug, "hey, guess what? It comes off."

"Mrph," Splinter was trying not to chuckle at his son's sudden enthusiasm, with only partial success.

Donatello concluded his own quiet laugh with the heaving of a sigh. "You know, I could DEAL with a stupid hat. I think to myself, I could deal with a LOT of things. Just…" he cringed and threw up his hands, needing it off his chest so badly that the words nearly erupted from him, "-not anytime she opens her mouth!"

The rat's mouth hung open slightly at this, startled to hear such a thing from his 'gentlest' son.

Donatello's hands flew up to press them over his mouth, and he flew into muffled apology, "I'm sorry! I'm sorry, that was so – horrible and disrespectful, and just – an awful thing to say, but – she can be so annoying, sensei. And yet," Don lowered his hands back to the floor and let his shoulders slump, "so very generous in, err – other ways, that it has been difficult for me to refuse her advances." He sighed, hitching his shoulders sheepishly. "Especially since… well, it's not like we're exactly overrun with opportunities."

"I know," Splinter finally allowed in a sigh, after a pause for reflection. "It is not what I hoped to hear from you, but – I do not think it necessarily means you are a wicked person, Donatello. Perhaps… it just means that you are male."

"But, Master Splinter – now it's getting serious! I need to do something about it soon. Lately, she's been talking like—" Don caught his lower lip in his teeth briefly, his expression imploring, "—like she thinks I'm. You know. Her boyfriend."

"What… just for sleeping with her on a regular basis?" Splinter cocked his head towards his son in feigned shock, then lowered his head to look down his nose sternly. Pointedly wry, he concluded, "Imagine that."

"Okay, okay," Donatello mumbled, dropping his eyes with a bitter grin. "I see your point. But, really – you've got to help me. She even wants me to go to this – dance – thing! And she's having clothes made for me, for the thing, and ohmigod, what if it's anything like the hat!? And lately it's seriously ALL she can talk about. And. So. I just don't think she's going to TAKE it very well when I tell her that I'd really rather not go, because Heroes is on that night! And if I'm not there to watch it with him, Mikey will never forgive me!"

"My son, you do realize…" Splinter fixed him with a long, serious look before arching a brow and noting sagely, "Syler is coming back."

"I KNOW!" Donnie cried, throwing his hands wide.


It felt so good to finally speak openly that once Donatello got started, he found himself reluctant to stop. It was just such a heady rush of relief to finally talk about some of the secrets he'd kept bottled up for too long.

Once upon a time these talks had been such a regular pastime for the father and son… So many nights he had spent with a candle burning between them, Don venting his frustration over failed projects or difficult training sessions, or sometimes just asking question after question. All the times he had felt lovelorn, or alienated, or the nights his head was ready to burst from over-thinking his problems, Master Splinter had been there for him.

They continued to speak for almost three hours that night. He could not tell his sensei everything. Still, Splinter heard confessions that occasionally threatened his weak heart. But he never would do anything to compromise his promise: it would always be okay to confide in him. At times the elderly rat was left speechless with surprise, or honestly unable to advise his son for lack of any personal experience.

His original intention had been to call them all in one at a time for a private, long-overdue lesson on sexuality. But now Splinter couldn't help feeling that he was not equipped to teach such a lesson, after all.

"Donatello, I have come to a decision," he intoned when at last it seemed his son was finally winding down. He saw Donnie's posture change, going a bit straighter with both attention and trepidation. It seemed he expected to be lectured, or perhaps even punished. Splinter chuckled at the thought and assured him, lifting a frail but steady paw, "At ease, my son. I have realized that you are grown, and perhaps it is not my place to make demands at all regarding… these matters. Instead, I would like to trust your best judgment. After all, it has always been cautious and sound in the past."

Donatello looked startled and slightly uncomfortable to hear this. "Thank you, father…" He accepted the praise with a blush and a quick bow of his head.

"In exchange for the whole of my trust, I only ask two things of you: first, that you will always try to listen to what truths your heart speaks. I know it would guide you faithfully, so long as you remain willing to listen!"

"Of course, master. I will try to do better. As I've said to you… I understand that I have to end it. I know that now, more clearly than ever…"

"The second thing I would ask. It is simply a favor. A task I would assign you…"

Put at ease by his father's kind counsel and praise, Donatello smiled and replied earnestly, "Anything, sensei!"

He would come to regret those words.