Chapter Four:
--
"She's not real, she's just a picture come to life." Donatello concluded his confession, his three brothers stared shocked at him as he told them the horrible truth.
For some unspoken reason, he was calm and feeling absolutely fine, not nervous, not hesitant, almost- unreal. But then he paused, and stared blankly into the dark abyss of what he knew as the dead center of Raphael's eyes.
For a long, near suffocating moment, Raphael's expression hardened into that of someone ready to attempt a road kill.
One second his brother was standing frighteningly still at least five feet away, and in the other, almost as if he had magically teleported in the blink of an eye, he was staring face to face with a darkened look looming over his very soul. Donatello felt his ribcage rattle almost faintly as his shell was slammed against the wall, yet he oddly felt no pain as the harsh impact. He gasped as the breath was knocked out of him, though; albeit startled with his eyes wide and locked into the depth of fiery pools of brown, he heard his own heart drum against his ears.
Raph's breath was hot against his snout, but scentless for some reason, but the beat of his own heart had skipped at the sudden change of position, the sudden aggression, and it had his spine stiffened like a cone of ice.
"I dare you- I just Dare you, Donatello! -to walk right up to that child, and say those words right in her face!" he spat, hissing maliciously, before he gave the purple clad turtle a sharp shove, dropping him to the floor while snarling venomously, as his eyes nearly lit red in suppressed rage.
Just as abruptly to the outburst, Raphael twirled around and punched the wall enough to leave a dent, the bricks crumbled with debris to the floor. The hothead stomped out of the room, seething hotly and muttering darkly under his breath.
No more than moments later, he sighed in apprehension as the sound of the punching bag's chains rattled warningly in the air.
Until a loud monstrous howl ripped through his ears and pierced his mind…
With a startled snort, Donatello blinked his dry and pained eyes at the glaring light of his computer screen, the loud and sharp beeping from the machine informed him the second-phase results were complete, and he needs to press any key to continue.
He blinked slowly, realizing the previous scenario was all just a bad dream… or perhaps, a forewarning? Somehow, he didn't know which it was, since forewarnings were Leo's specialty… or maybe he was just sleep deprived, the headache and ice-cold empty coffee mug set besides his elbow, as well as the blanket placed on his shoulders, that seemed to come out of nowhere, assured him he had been neglecting himself again, and one of his brothers tucked him in after finding him fast asleep on his work desk again.
The exhaustion combined with the stress only made the itch on his thigh, the headache pounding against his skull, the sneezing fits rattling his lungs, aside the mucus clogging his throat seem like a compiled mess that ruined his mood further.
He felt like a train wreck!
But at the moment, rest was the farthest thing from his mind now that the primary results were finally here, but his body was beyond being capable of doing anything efficiently, such as straining itself to focus on what was even written on that long printed paper. He dropped his head on the desk again with a desperate groan, half delighted with the cold surface of the desk against his hot pounding head, and half aching from the difference in temperature.
He just wanted to sleep and wish these bad dreams away, but such things done come easy.
What would he do for a nice hot bath and then a long, restful, undisturbed good night sleep…
. o 0 o 0 o .
With a snort, Donatello blinked his heavy eyelids at the blinding screen before him once again.
With a groan and a stiff neck, he realized he had fallen asleep on the desk again, though unintentionally.
It had been three days, Donatello thought, since Dew came into their daily life, and for better or worse, he was still fretting the answer.
He felt horrible, and also very guilty as their father seemed to enjoy having a child to cuddle up, someone who would snuggle into his side and watch his soaps with him without complaints. Donatello didn't have the heart to break his father's joyous new lifestyle. That radiant and more youthful smile had been something he hadn't seen on his fathers face in years. Master splinter obviously enjoyed the little bundle of sunshine, as Mike called her, and grew happier the more quality time he spent with his little daughter.
In a way, Don couldn't help but feel jealous, and perhaps a little left out, but considering how crushed everyone would be when she's gone, he was ashamed of himself for thinking like a child. Another emotion he'd been trying to cope with as well.
The cold sensation in his stomach only grew worse as his brothers gradually grew more and more attached to the little girl. Furthermore, the purple masked turtle grew more and more hesitant to share his little secret with them, to the point he started spending more time in his lab running tests on the little girl's blood samples. Or at least with Leo and Mike, since Raph for some odd reason acted rather distant to the little girl, but he knew he was just feeling awkward to having her there.
Raphael, to Donatello's perspective, appeared a bit unsure and maybe a little nervous with being near such a fragile, delicate little creature. His hotheaded brother always seemed to handle himself with the feistiest of women, or battles, or whichever came first, but seemed to crumble and shy off children, as if he was afraid he'd scare them or something.
In a sense, Donatello found it highly amusing to the point of having to stifle a laugh, whenever Dew tried to do something nice to his brother who would just stare at her awkwardly before reacting.
There was a time the earlier day where the red masked turtle was working out in the dojo, hot and body soaked with reeking sweat, when in came Dew with a shy little smile and a cool bottle of water, who Mike had goaded her and asked her to deliver it to his hotheaded kin. She offered it to him with a bright smile, but he just stared at her as if he never saw a creature like her in his entire life; as if she was something completely alien to this world.
After a bit or reluctance, Raphael uncurled his fingers from the barbell's bars, loosened his muscles from his tight sitting position, and then accepted the water bottle with a wary expression. Innocently unaware of the awkward stare, Dew flashed him an even bigger and happier grin, before skipping off back to the kitchen to continue with her sketch pad.
Leonardo nearly laughed his head off at the dumbfounded, and maybe a little shy look that came on the hothead's face; Donatello found it quite a new look on his brother's face as well.
Frankly, the leader figured the bruise he received afterwards was well worth it.
Come to think of it, the last he had seen Raphael and Leonardo was earlier that morning, when Leo asked their father if he could search through their old winter clothes for something for Dew to wear. The leader and hothead were probably still in the den watching television, and discussing whether or not the little girl ought to have a color code for her mask, and perhaps clothes.
He would have gone to check, but he was really too tired.
And besides! The cool table top of his work desk was so soothing…
. o 0 o 0 o .
"I don't care what color it is as long as it's not pink, because I still say she needs clothes." The hothead grumped from where he slouched on the couch, a white fluffy towel around his neck and beads of sweat on his brow, the faint smell of his body odor wasn't too powerful, but enough to warrant a disgusted face from the blue masked kin.
"What's wrong with an overall? Lots of them around with her size, and given the environment she's gonna be living, it's durable and less likely to get torn or too dirty." He then argued, "Way better than a frilly pink dress, I assure you." He growled at the offending article of clothes they found in one of the boxes. Raphael then threw a lazy arm on the back of the seat, as the other hand clutched the now warming bottle of cool water Dew had offered him yesterday. Instead of tossing it away, he simply refilled it and kept it in the fridge, he didn't want to throw it out.
Leonardo flapped the article of clothes in his hand, from a box of clothes their father had stored from a previous winter, to brush away the dust that had gathered on it during the months of sitting in the storage boxes. Then the leader sighed, a little aggravated by his brother's behavior, and giving up the hints that his brother smelled too strong.
Although he may never admit it openly, he really liked Raph's new prickly side; he found it rather amusing in an uplifting sort of way. To the leader, it told him Raph didn't mind having Dew around the lair, he actually liked having her around as long as she didn't come too close to him, the hothead just felt a little off with her there and needing time to get used to it, though it clearly might take a while.
Who would have thought having such a sweet little a child in the lair, would improve his brother's past impulsively destructive attitude so much? Truthfully he had never before seen the well tempered side of his brother, mainly because there was a kid in the house and the hothead didn't want to make a bad impression, or end up scaring her or something.
Considering how Mike pretty much hogged her to himself, he and Raph never really got a chance to spend much time with her.
Leo was too busy with many other things, such as Don's much neglected health, (and obviously knowing something he wasn't sharing with his brothers,) maintaining the new Lair's safety and the new alarm system working in order, and possible Foot activity, though he felt uneasy at the lull as Karai hadn't come after them again.
Raphael, however, was too busy keeping his distance from the little girl to be his usual rebelling self.
Leonardo didn't know why Raph felt like he had to stay away from her, it worried him for some reason, but he knew the hothead will deny it if confronted with the subject, and might bring up a fight. He really didn't want to ruin Raph's currant well behaved temper over a child, or else Mike might make a jib about them fighting like a new married couple again.
Mike got a bit knot on his head from Raph's fist the last time he said that, no need to bruise little bro's fragile skull further.
"Raph, you remember what Donny said," he began gently, hoping not to offend the uptight hothead, "She might need to have her clothes custom made, our clothes have been used for a few years and though clean, we don't know if she had any allergies, or prone to get ill. Don isn't even sure if she's allergic to anything." He urged himself not to hiss in frustration.
"Yeah, I hear ya." Raphael muttered, stretched his limbs and then pushed off the couch, "Our clothes might be too big for her, anyway." He paused and took a whiff of himself, then wrinkled his snout, "Whew! I need a shower," he muttered, "I'm off for a hot soak, when Mike is done playing daddy-dearest, let him know dinner aint making itself." He muttered, waved a hand and walked away towards the bathroom.
Leonardo was tempted to reply 'Yes, dear,' but knew that would be asking for a knot on his head matching the size of the one on Mike's head, and he honestly did not feel obliged to ask for an accessory, the sore spot on his shoulder was more than enough.
Watching the hothead go, he wondered where Mike and Dew were at, anyway.
Last he checked they were in the kitchen, and they've been there for hours now. "Better go check they hadn't burned anything down," he smiled to himself, set the clothes he had taken out of a storage box on the coffee table, and headed to the kitchen. Perhaps this would give him a chance to bond with the little girl without Mike hogging her to himself.
But then he hesitated for a moment and glanced at Donatello's lab. The lights were still on but there was no noise coming from within; was the brainy turtle still sleeping on the keyboard? 'I'm gonna have to figure that out some time, he's not doing his body any favors…' he muttered to himself, promising to do so and check on the purple masked kin once he was sure Mike and Dew weren't planning to take over the kitchen.
Or worse, plan world domination through being hyperactive beyond his tolerance.
. o 0 o 0 o .
Mike gathered the little bundle in his arms and tickled her, and if she had a voice she would have squealed in delight, and then struggled to free herself from his grasp in a fit of uncontrolled giggles.
Mike simply loved the new addition to the family! He loved her more than anything he could describe! He even loved her more than his computer games and comic book collection! … well, maybe not quiet, but really close. He might let her skim through them to enjoy the pretty colors, (since he wasn't sure if she can read,) as long as she didn't wrinkle the pages or smear them with oily fingerprints.
She seemed to like Klunk, though his big bright green eyes seemed to frighten her for some reason. She tried to play with the feline the previous day, and being a rough player he pawed her hand and scratched her hand; she's been too terrified to go near him for long ever since. She'd pet his head or brush his back, but wont play if he starts to rub against her, she didn't trust him enough to not scratch her again.
Dew had only 'arrived' into their life for less than a week now, almost literally becoming the baby in the family, and yet everyone had been fussing over her, almost as if she had been there her whole life; which wasn't really considered much, since she was only an eight year old who looked like a five year old, who had arrived merely four days ago.
In the kitchen, he was getting the cookie cutters and the oven pans ready, while Dew was having fun molding the pizza dough and squishing it around like clay. The cookie dough was too moist for her and he didn't want her eating the batter- it would ruin her appetite for the real meal.
He grinned at her from over his shoulder, watching her tongue peek at the corner of her mouth as she tried to mold the ought into what looked like a four legged creature of sorts, he just couldn't recognize the details. It was either a horse, a donkey or a zebra, since it was missing the little details, he couldn't even start to guess what it could possibly be- that stretching neck was starting to confuse him if it was supposed to be a giraffe, too.
Turning his attention back to the sink, clearing the table and cleaning the dirty dishes, since he just had to wait for the cookies to bake before working on the pizza, he remembered how their father taught them how to cook when they were kids, and how he picked up interest in baking.
Cookies were delicious. When Michelangelo was little, he thought the world wasn't worth living without chocolate chip cookies, and he wanted a lifetime supply of them, so he loved baking whenever he could. His love to the culinary arts allowed him and his family delicious treats well beyond the guilty pleasure of sweet, mouth watering cookies.
Even Raphael couldn't deny a good home made pizza, if Mike spent three hours getting the dough, sauce and spices to be just right before popping it in the oven. Even April couldn't steal the recipes, and she when caught a whiff of it, it didn't come out as brilliant as when Mike baked it.
He was a genius, he thought, and you can't mimic great genius.
For a second, he wondered if he sounded like Baxter Stockman…. Nah!
"Hey, what's cookin' doc." Leonardo greeted with a mellow smile, and then blinked at the perky blonde girl, who greeted him with flour powdered on her snout and arms. "My, aren't you a happy mess." He chuckled, and moved to get a towel to wipe away the flour from her face before it started to flake. "Let me get you cleaned up- you look like you went into a fist fight with the flour bag." He teased, and then chuckled at her cute disagreeing pout.
"Leo! Good timing!" Mike cheered happily, "Could you fetch a stick of butter from the fridge? My hands are full right now," he gestured from over the sink where he was scrubbing the mixing bowl clean, suds of soap bubbled all over the tub.
"Sure," the leader replied casually and retrieved the needed item, not bothering to unwrap it because he didn't know if Mike was going to melt it now, or later, and then brought his damp towel to clean Dew's face from the flour. After she squirmed a bit with a giggle and sneeze, he glanced at the clumps of dough on the table, "Um, is this supposed to be a cake dough or pizza dough?"
"Pizza dough." Mike replied from over the sink.
Leonardo blinked, frowned and glanced at the dough again, then poked it with a hand, "Um, isn't it supposed to be softer then this?" he questioned, a little confused at the more solid than he remembered batter.
"It's a new recipe I'm trying; gonna have to wait till it's baked and done before I decide if it's a successes, though." Mike replied and then glanced at his brother with a confident smile, "Besides, Dew's been having fun molding it, it probably hardened from getting aired so long, don't worry, a sprinkle of water ought to fix it." He assured.
. o 0 o 0 o .
Dew glanced at the two turtles, who continued to talk about something hard as rock and might break their jaws, but not really understanding what they were talking about, she just looked back at the dough in her hands and continues to squish and mold it.
She tried making a pony but the head kept bending and looking like a giraffe's neck, it was getting kind of frustrating. It didn't help that a lock of hair kept coming in front of her face and prickling her snout, making her sneeze.
She was so distracted by the rebelling pony of dough, she didn't notice Leo, big bro who's really nice and smiles a lot and wears blue, leave the kitchen and then return to stand behind her. Next thing she knew, he gently brushed back her hair and tied it up with something. She blinked as her hair no longer got in her face and turned her head around to look at him.
Her hair had been pulled back into a pony tail, and to her surprise, it wasn't Leo who fixed her hair, it was Raph! The grouchy but quiet one in red. She stiffened a bit, not expecting to see him. He eyed her a bit blankly, before he told her not to move and then tugged at something on the back of her head.
"There; now you're as pretty as a picture." Raph smiled a tiny bit.
"Aww!" Mike drawled with a big goofy grin, "See Dew? Big brother waphie is just a big cuddly teddy who wants a hug; he just looks mean and scary." He exclaimed with a chuckle. Then dodged a towel that got thrown at him. "He's still a cranky teddy though," he added with a laugh.
"Shut it, Mike." Raphael grumped, but didn't sound so angry to the little girl's perspective, perhaps just a little annoyed, "I just don't wanna end up swallowing hair when we eat these experiments of yours." He muttered and then put his hand on her head, brushing back a strand from her forehead. "Blonde hair is hard to see when it's really mixed in dough." He added.
She glanced at him again, not really sure what to do, but she liked the feel of his hand on her head, it felt-- nice. She peered up at him with a beaming, happy grin. Raph then glanced at her, sensing her gaze. His eyes widened a bit, Mike murmured something with a big grin, then Raph pursed his lips, huffed and then left the kitchen stomping his feet, muttering something she couldn't catch under his breath.
She noticed that he talked funny. It wasn't like Leo or Mike, and sometimes he'd say funny words she didn't know what they meant. Most of the time, when Raph was angry and started yelling, Mike would put earmuffs on her head and tell her not to take them off, because there are not-nice words she's not supposed to hear, and Raph was a bad boy who needed to have his mouth washed with soap.
She watched her big brother in red leave, and felt a little sad, already missing the head petting. She liked getting pats on the head, they felt nice.
Why did he not like to be with her like Leo or Mike? Was it something she did? Or did he just not like her? Was it because she couldn't talk like the rest of them? Was it because she had hair? If she had a voice she would have asked, it made her feel felt behind when she couldn't ask why kept not being with her…
Saddened, she stared back at the cookie dough.
Maybe she can make something for Raph to cheer him up, and maybe make him like her?
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A/N: I'm posting this while sleep deprived, I tried to make sure no repeats, spelling or grammatical errors slipped by, but if you spot any, let me know. Constructive critique is welcomed!