Chapter 7: Take Five
"Alright, it's almost ten o'clock. We haven't even started lesson two yet, and you guys are already wearing me out. So, let's take five. That will give me a chance to hit the kitchen for something caffeinated, and maybe then I'll have a better chance of actually getting through this with my sanity intact." Donatello's tone was clipped, surveying his three brothers. He picked up his page of notes and took them with him as he stalked out of the room.
They spent most of the first minute in silence. Raphael's eyes lanced about the room in a restless way that matched his pacing thoughts. Michelangelo seemed content and quite entertained just to sit and contemplate the lovely assets of Miss Jameson. Leonardo maintained a carefully blank expression, his gaze fixed on some indeterminate point on the floor in front of him.
Raph finally broke the silence, looking Leo over for a moment before leaning in to catch his older brother's gaze. "How're ya feelin'?"
"A little better, I guess," Leo muttered. "Not as queasy."
"Headache?"
"Yeah."
"Izz'it bad?"
The elder brother lowered his chin in a single minute nod.
"Mikey!" Raph snapped. "Wipe that drool off yer chin and make yourself useful, wouldja? Go get Leo some aspirin or something."
"Yeah, yeah." Mike hadn't been drooling! The truth was he'd been listening to their whole weird exchange. Irritation flared up in him, as he realized he still wasn't completely over being excluded by them last night. While he'd mostly been able to put it all behind him this morning and greet the day with a good attitude, their being so nice to each other felt like they were rubbing it in. Either that, or they were throwing him out of the room. Neither option really left him feeling warm and fuzzy towards them, so in retaliation he grumbled sourly as he rose, "Try not to make out while I'm gone, eh?"
"You little twerp!" Raphael took immediate offense to this, balling his hands into fists and starting to rise. Mike yelped and darted out of reach, eyeing him warily as Raph snarled, "Yeah, you better move! I oughta knock your teeth right outta your face!"
"You are being almost civil to me lately," Leo pointed out in a voice meant to calm him, almost smiling. "It's kind of unsettling."
"Yeah, well." Raph scowled, giving Mike one last glare before sinking back down onto the couch. Folding his arms, he noted grudgingly, "You're being almost cool lately. That's kind of unsettling too."
"Don't worry," Leo sighed, looking away. "I'm sure it won't last."
Raphael turned fully at this, like there was something he wanted to say. But either he couldn't find the words, or couldn't bring himself to speak them. He looked away.
Weirdos, Mike decided, heading out towards the kitchen. He would never figure those two out. But he paused just out of sight and lingered to listen, just in case they really were trying to get him out of the room for some reason.
After a moment, he heard Raph speak. "You kinda confused me back there," he said quietly, "when Don was tryin' to give his lesson. One minute it'd be like you were supporting him, and the next you were cuttin' him down with the rest of us."
Cutting him down? Is that what I was doing? Mike thought back over his behavior. He hadn't really meant it that way. I mean sure, the anatomy stuff was really boring, but… I was just goofing off! It was no different than how he normally acted during lessons. But then, most lessons weren't taught by Don. He glanced towards the kitchen, wondering about it. Could he have upset his brother by accident?
Leo took some time to think about Raph's observation before responding, "I wanted it over with. That doesn't necessarily mean I was supporting him."
"Huh. So… it's pissin' you off too?"
"No. Yeah." He sighed again. "I don't know, Raph. It could just be that I'm cranky right now. But a part of me feels like… we don't need to hear it. Any of it."
"No kiddin'. Not to mention it's gonna put all kinds of funny ideas in Mike's head. He don't need that…"
What the HELL? Mike fumed at this, and was sorely tempted to burst back into the room and refute it. Like I need Don for that! I am perfectly capable of putting funny ideas into my OWN head! Okay, wait... Maybe that wasn't the best leading argument. The point is, I'm not that much younger than they are! I'm definitely not some baby who needs to be sheltered. Where do they get off?
"What's the purpose? That's what I want to know. I'm sorry, but I'm not rushing out any time soon to – to go out and 'score with chicks'. And so far, I don't really appreciate any of this. Call me overly focused, or whatever you want, but – right now my priorities are on being a ninja."
"I'm not callin' you anything, bro," Raphael insisted quietly. "For once, I'm right there with you."
"I don't know if there's anything I can do about it, though. Don's in charge right now."
"What if we both went to Splinter? Told him we both think this whole thing is just stupid?"
"I don't know, Raph. Maybe. But for right now, let's just wait and see it how it goes, okay?"
"You know what I think of his so-called leadership, Leo. He doesn't even—"
Michelangelo withdrew then, suddenly glad they'd given him the excuse to leave. If they were plotting some kind of revolt against Donnie, he didn't want any part of it. He made a silent dash for the kitchen.
Bursting into the room, he found Don at the breakfast table, frowning down at his notes and nursing one of his blue energy drinks. "Soda for breakfast?" he criticized, peering. "I know we're still out of coffee filters, but there is tea…"
Donatello slid the drink closer protectively, like Mike might try to snatch it away from him. Then he grinned sheepishly, defending, "This is more efficient."
"Well, so is hooking yourself up to some kind of creepy caffeine IV drip," Mike argued wryly. "But try it, bro, and I'll have to kick your ass. How 'bout I make you some toast?"
"Really, I'm fine…"
"Dude, breakfast is the most important meal of the day. Are we gonna hafta battle over this? Cause, you know, I am the Battle Nexus Champion. And I say you need toast."
"Okay, okay!" Don put up both hands in defeat. "I yield. Toast sounds great. I am at your mercy."
Mike grinned at him. He turned and went about getting bread from the cupboard, as well as some butter and strawberry jam from out of the fridge. Don eyed the jam and nearly said something, but seemed to think better of it and went back to studying his notes.
While the bread was toasting, Mike came back over to the table and sat down in one of the chairs next to him. "Hey Donnie, I was just wondering… Are you mad at me?"
"No, Mike. Did I act mad? I'm probably just stressed. This isn't exactly the easiest lesson to teach."
"But you believe in it, right?"
Don canted him a strangely grave look before dropping his eyes down to his notes. "Yeah," he said softly. "I mean, Splinter did sort of rope me into all this. But yeah, Mike, I do. I think it's really important."
"Well, I just wanted to say that if you believe in it, then… then I believe in it too! Because... I believe in you, so. So I'm gonna to try to be good from now on."
Don's head shot up at this. He blinked at Michelangelo in surprise.
Mike wet his lips before pressing on, determined. "I'm not promising I'll be perfect, right? Especially considering all the kindsa stuff we're probably gonna have to talk about. 'Cause, dude, some things just gotta be said, you know? But— but I'm gonna do better. Really. I was never tryin' to, um, cut you down. And I just wanna make sure you know that. Okay?" He gave Don his best wide-eyed, 'so that's why you shouldn't be mad at me' puppy dog look.
Donatello considered him quietly. Eventually his fingers made a beckoning motion, and he mumbled, "Come here, you."
"Huh?" Mike gave him an uncertain look but humored him, leaning in a little.
"Closer," Don commanded gently.
Michelangelo obeyed, his confusion growing – especially when Don reached out and started prodding and poking at the top of his head. "Uh, bro? What the heck are you doing?"
"Checking for antennae," Donatello explained patiently. "Or some kind of alien implant… No, hold still!" He laughed and caught Mike in a headlock when the younger turtle tried to squirm away. "I've almost got it!"
"GACK!" Mike protested, held in place from his own fit of giggles now as much as by Don's efforts.
"Yep, this must be it. Riiiight here."
"That's my Adam's apple, you – you mad scientist!" Mike choked, twisting and flailing. "Haha, get OFFA me—!"
"I'm sorry, but we'll have to amputate. It's our only option. WE HAVE NO CHOICE!"
"AHHHHHH," Mike girly-screamed, clawing at Don's arms now.
"Weirdos," a voice grumped from behind them. They both froze at the interruption and then twisted around to see Raphael surveying both of them critically from the frame of the kitchen's entrance.
He did not look amused.
Striding past them, he went to the medicine cabinet and opened it with more noise than was necessary, letting the door swing wide to crash against the neighboring cupboard. The bottle of aspirin, too, was swiped up in one fist in a way that made the pills inside clatter loudly. He took a bottle of water from the fridge, and shot Michelangelo a particularly black look as he strode past them again.
"I didn't forget!" Mike squeaked, even though he had. "I just, I said some things, and then Donnie had to make sure I wasn't a pod person!"
"All true," Don agreed solemnly.
"But after that, I was totally gonna!"
Raph ignored all of this. On his way out he paused in the frame of the entryway to throw a dirty look over one shoulder. This time it was for Donatello. "Oh, and it's been five minutes," he growled. "Just so you know." Then he turned and was gone.
The exchange pretty much killed the jovial mood in the kitchen. Don collected his notes and his energy drink quickly, mumbling, "Guess we'd better get back in there."
Michelangelo followed Don back out into the common room, hanging his head a bit. It was only as he was getting resituated on the armrest of the couch, and Don was taking his place at the front of the room, that Mike realized he'd neglected more than just Leo's aspirin.
He'd also managed to completely forget the toast.