A/N: Poor Donny. He really is being a bone-head. And yes, he is not well... Details matter. Chills... weakness... If he weren't so worried about Beverly turning him over to Jack, he might pay better attention to his own symptoms.

Sorry these couple chaps have been a bit slow on action... things will heat up soon enough. While Don's lounging around, his bro's are on the move.

I'm leaving town this morning, will be gone until tomorrow night quite late, so today you get a bonus- an extra chapter! Enjoy. :)


Chapter 8 -Weak Link-
~~~

Donatello watched as the woman tucked the end of the bandage in expertly. He wasn't reassured by her insistence that she wouldn't do anything to cause him or Mike harm. As kind as Beverly had been, Jack was her brother.

How could I have let Mike's name slip to her like that? Now she knows I have at least one brother. I've got to get away from here before her crazy brother comes looking for me, before she lets it slip to him I'm not the only mutated turtle on earth.

Beverly finished wrapping his wounded leg. She didn't look up at him, just picked up her supplies, tucking them neatly into the first-aid kit. Don watched, his eye-ridges rising.

She's nearly as fussy about her supplies as I am, he thought. He moved his leg experimentally. She does nice work. He felt a smile creeping across his face in spite of his anxiety. Maybe I can trust her, maybe not. I'll have to be more careful. I can't risk Jack getting hold of any of the others.

"Donatello, don't worry," she said, looking up at him. "I'm sure your brother will be ok. Do you think he'll come looking for you? Do you have any way to contact him, to warn him about Jack?"

Don shook his head. Without his shell-cell, he couldn't call Mikey himself, and he was still wary.

If I let her make the call, she'll tell Mikey where I am. He'll come for me. I can't let that happen. I can't lead him into a trap.

"Well, I'll keep an eye out for your brother, ok? I have to go back and see Jack again sometime soon anyway," said Beverly.

Donatello stared. His heart felt as though it had dropped to the bottom of his stomach.

Oh no… she wants to go visit him? What for? What if he finds out where I am? I'm still to weak to get far on my own. Oh shell…I can't go back to that barn, I just can't! He felt himself beginning to tremble and tried desperately to stop.

"I have to," she said gently, watching him. Donatello avoided her gaze. "He's got to pay his property tax bill or the state is going to take the land away. That cabin is our childhood home. If Jack gets evicted, it might be enough to send him over the edge," she said, half to herself.

"I'd say he's already flown over the cuckoo's nest," remarked Donatello. He regretted the comment almost instantly.

Hurt flickered across Beverly's face. "He's still my brother," she said, getting to her feet. She started to say something more, but shook her head. "Let me see your arm."

"What?" Don glanced at her, confused and wary.

"Your arm. Let me see those cuts. They should be cleaned at least. Do any of them need stitches?" she asked.

He shuddered. "They're fine."

"Donatello," she said firmly. "Why won't you let me help you?"

"They're not as bad as they look," he said. "I'm fine, Beverly, honestly."

Actually I just can't bear to have you touch them. Or anyone. Ever. I just don't want to think about them anymore, don't want to think about Jack anymore.

"Donatello. You've got to let me help you. You can't afford an infection," she scolded. "You told me yourself you're recovering from a very serious illness. If one of those cuts were to get infected, it could send your body spiraling into shock."

Don was shaking. He shook his head. "Beverly, I promise you, I'm fine."

"When was your last tetanus booster?" she asked pointedly.

"About a month ago, actually," he told her. Don smiled at her shocked look. "We have a friend who's able to… acquire certain medicines and things for us," he explained. He saw her surprised look and sighed. "I told you, we're fighters."

"I don't understand. Who do you fight? What exactly are you, Donatello?" asked Beverly, rocking back on her heels and staring intensely into his face.

I suppose I do owe you some kind of explanation. You did save my life after all.

"My… family and I… we're sort of vigilantes," explained Donatello carefully. "We've trained as ninjas our whole life. We keep to ourselves, away from humans, but we go out and patrol the city most nights. If we see a crime happening, we stop it. Sometimes we break up gang activity."

"You're a… ninja? Like… martial arts? Jackie Chan movies?"

Donatello laughed. "Sort of," he said softly. "Jackie Chan mostly practices judo and karate. There are different styles of martial arts."

"I do know that much," said Beverly. "Sorry. Jackie Chan was just the first thing that popped into my head. Comparing you to him is probably insulting. I didn't mean it to be."

"It's ok. I understand." Don almost snorted.

Jackie Chan indeed. But at least she's trying to understand.

"We are the good guys. In that sense, we're kind of like he is in the movies. We live by a code of honor."

"That's amazing," said Beverly. She was watching him now with interest.

Don blushed. "What?"

"It's just… When I first saw you, I knew you were different from anyone I've ever met. Obviously because of your physical differences," she gestured, not quite touching his shell. "But it's more than that. You're… a very surprising person."

Donatello met her eyes and a thrill ran down his spine. Whoa. Where did that come from? I've only felt like that when April smiles at me, he thought, confused.

"Thanks, I guess," he managed.

Beverly laughed and Don felt a slow smile spread across his face.

"Ok, now let me look at your arms," she said, catching his hand in her own.

Don tensed. "Really, they're fine," he said, trying to pull away.

Bev held on. "Donatello, come on. You know as well as I do that those wounds have to be cleaned." She spoke gently. "Why won't you let me help you?"

I'm scared. Scared that if you see the wounds, you'll want to know how they happened. I don't want to tell you, don't want to talk about it. I don't want to think about what he did.

"I'm fine. Really."

"No, you're not fine. I saw you in that barn, Donatello. I saw how hurt you were. It's ok. I know you don't trust me. I'd understand if you never trusted any human again after what Jack did to you."

"It's not ok, Beverly!" Don snapped. He jerked his hand out of her grasp. She was on her feet in an instant, backing away. Don felt something twist in his chest.

She's afraid of me, afraid of the mutant.

Anger boiled up in him. "It's not ok for me to be weak, not ever," he told her bitterly. "I can't afford to be weak! I can't afford to let somebody like Jack get the jump on me like that! I've put my whole family in danger again just because I had to try and prove I'm as strong as my brothers."

"Donatello…"

Don ignored her attempt to interrupt. He got up and paced away from the bed. Pain shot through his leg, but he was unable to sit still for another moment. "It's not ok for me to ever be weak, Beverly, because there will always be someone like Jack out there, who wants to hurt me, who wants to hurt us. We're a team. We can't afford weakness. I'm the weak link. You should have left me there in the barn. They're better off without me." Tears welled in Donatello's eyes. He didn't realize he was swaying until the woman caught his arm, tilting him back upright on his feet.

"Sit," she commanded, leading him firmly back to the bed.

Don sank down. He was shivering again, feeling cold in the warm room.

I'm such a shell-head, he thought.

Beverly sat down beside him, stroking his bicep gently. She didn't say anything for a long moment. When she finally spoke, her voice was soft.

"Donatello, I've known you for less than a day, but I know a few things about you," she said slowly. "I know you're fiercely loyal to your family. I know you'd do anything to protect them."

Don shook his head, but she laid her palm against his arm, forestalling his denial.

"You got up off this bed when you could hardly walk and nearly bolted out of the room when I mentioned your brother's name," she said gently. "You had no thought for your physical health, only for his safety. Don, you're a good brother. You obviously care about them."

Wait a minute, 'them'? She knows there are more of us? Oh no. I said "brothers" just now. Oh shell, I'm an idiot… Don felt the blood leaving his face. He squirmed away from Beverly's hand.

She shook her head, smiling. "Even now you're worrying that you've said too much. Donatello, don't. It's ok. Really." She looked up, meeting his gaze steadily. "I know you don't trust me, and I understand why. You don't have to tell me anything you're not comfortable with."

I've already told you more than I should have.

"Donatello, it's obvious to me that you're a much stronger person than you're giving yourself credit for being," said Beverly. "You survived as my brother's prisoner longer than most people could. And now that you're free, you're more focused on keeping your family safe than you are on your own health and safety. In my book that adds up to courage and a lot of it. Your family is lucky to have you, Donatello. Don't you dare ever think you're a weak link. You're one of the strongest people I've ever met."

"I'm not." He whispered, pain spiking in his chest. Don closed his eyes, hiding from her. His emotions warred in his chest.

Why does she make me feel like this? Why do I feel as if she can see into my soul? Why do I feel so vulnerable?

"Donatello." Her voice was soft, and the fingers that brushed his wrist softer yet.

Don opened his eyes, startled to see her kneeling next to the bed.

"Why do you put yourself down like that?" she asked softly.

He looked away, confused and embarrassed. "I don't… I mean, I'm not. I'm just being honest, Beverly. I have to train harder, I have to challenge myself, get stronger. I can't afford to be weak. My family can't afford for me to be weak."

"You're not weak," she said, meeting his gaze steadily. "You're not."

"You don't even know me," he said softly. He shook his head. "Beverly, you've been great, you really have, but I have to get out of here. I have to get back to my family."

I have to escape before Jack shows up again, before I reveal anything else, before this spirals any further out of control.

"I understand, Donatello but how are you going to do that? You're not strong enough to travel. If there's someplace you can meet them or need to go, I can drive you…"

A ride home… We could be back at the farmhouse in just a few hours…

He shook his head. "No." He let out a frustrated sigh. "No, I'll have to go on my own."

"Whatever you think is best," said Beverly.

Don looked at her. Her expression was resigned.

"I'm sorry," he said, contrite. She'd helped him, been kind. He knew his mistrust was cruel, but he couldn't risk his brothers, his sister-in-law, his family. There was just too much at stake.

"It's ok, Donatello," she said gently. She stood up. "I understand. I really do. Jack's not much of a brother, but I'd fight to protect him." She smiled sadly. "I'll let you get some rest, ok?"

"Thanks, Beverly," said Don.

He lay back on the bed and closed his eyes. He heard the door close softly behind her and waited until her footsteps disappeared down the hallway before getting up. No matter how kind and caring she'd been, he had to get out of there.