It had been a very long day and Professor Holt's smile, while still there, had turned to a weary one as the last student left the classroom. He had been teaching now for almost thirty years and he had no doubt in his mind that he had chosen the right calling. He loved science and he loved teaching it. It had been a long time since he had been a boy, fascinated with the mysteries his own professor had explained to him and more fascinated by the ones he could not, so much still to discover, always so much still to learn and that's what he loved about the subject.
The day had been especially long and Holt was looking forward to going home early, even if he was going to spend a large portion of the night marking the paper he had set the seniors that morning. A large mug of hot chocolate and marshmallows would take the edge of that particular task and so as he gathered up the papers he was so focused on that treat, he almost didn't notice one of the papers flutter to the floor at his feet.
The test paper was battered and crumpled and at first Holt considered one of his students to have abused the paper thusly in frustration, but on closer inspection every question had been answered…but in red pen. He tutted as he picked it up, his students knew better than that, or at least he thought that did. With and sigh he glanced over the first few answers, surprised to see they were correct.
"A serious attempt," Holt smiled and placed the paper on the pile in his arms. He would mark it along with the others, but he would have to deduct a few marks for the use of an inappropriate ink, harsh maybe, but if this student had done this on a final exam paper, the whole grade would be lost. This was a sure way to ensure the student would never make this mistake again.
Happily humming his favourite piece of music, Holt bid a good night to the janitor who was finishing up his own work, before heading to his car. He couldn't wait for his hot chocolate.
*.*.*
The dinner table had never been this quiet and Yoshi sighed sadly as he joined his three remaining sons at the meal he had just warmed up for them. It was another soup with what remained of the bread. Usually his sons would have started to eat as soon as the food hit the bowls, but their appetites didn't seem to be there. His own was absent, the only reason he ate now was to keep up his strength, he would need it when he resumed his search for Donatello. The only reason he was not looking now, was because his other sons needed food and care, and while they had been pleased at his return, they had expected him to return with their brother.
Michelangelo was the most affected by the absence of his immediate older brother; Donatello was young enough to relate to the youngest brother but also old enough to be protective of his sibling. The smallest turtle brother hung his head low, till his beak was almost in the soup and he sniffed softly. Splinter put a gentle hand on his son, seeing the lad hop down from his seat and close in for a hug.
Leonardo met his fathers eyes before looking back down at his own barely touch meal and Raphael wordlessly stirred the contents of his bowl, trying to retain the illusion that he did not care by telling them they were all being stupid. Splinter couldn't bring himself to scold his second oldest, instead he continued to rub soothing circles into the shell of Michelangelo, taking just as much comfort from the little arms around him, as Michelangelo took from him.
"Try not to worry, my sons."
"Who's worried?" Raphael said with a shrug.
"I am! I want Donnie back; it's not right without him." Splinter held Michelangelo tighter as his sobs wracked his small frame. "I shouldn't have laughed when he fell, it's my fault he thinks I hate him."
"It's not your fault, Mikey," Leonardo said sadly. "I didn't look out for him like I should. I should have realised how unhappy he was…"
"Prfft…" Raphael huffed as he sat back folding his arms, not meeting their eyes. "Yeah, sure. It's all down to you not kissing ass."
"Like you're blameless?" Leonardo stood, hands pressed against the table and blue eyes hard as they challenged Raphael who stood, mirroring the oldest brothers stance.
"Hey I ain't not blaming anybody, least of all me. I know's what I said and I know's what I did to the dork," Raphael's hard gaze softened, his shoulders slumped and for the first time Splinter got a glimpse of the boys true feelings. "But I sure ain't gonna sit here and talk about how differently I'd treat him, or should have," Leonardo relaxed a little and Michelangelo sniffed, listening to his older brother. Splinter for his part kept quiet, he knew what Raphael was about to say. "If he was here now, I'd still call him dork. I'd still push him around and I'd still find him annoying. He's my brother." Raphael sat back down, going back to stirring his soup. It was about as close as the boy would ever come to admitting he cared about anyone. It was just his way.
"We have all contributed in some way to the feelings that caused Donatello too flee the safety of our home; I myself am guiltier than anyone of you. What I did was unforgiveable." A small green hand stroked the fur of his chest and Splinter smiled appreciatively down at Michelangelo who was still perched comfortably on his knee. "I care so much about all of you and I know all too well, the dangers that await us if we are ever discovered. When I thought Donatello had gone to the surface, I let my fear control me."
"Just tell Donny that," Michelangelo said with a sniffle. "I'm sure he won't be mad any more." Splinter smiled and set the boy back in front of his meal.
"I hope you are right, my son."
