Author's Note: Many thanks to Greenwillow for the beta read, and to all my readers for putting up with how long I kept you all waiting... I hope it was worth it! As you can probably see, this chapter is kinda HUGE. Hang onto your seats because it's time for everything to go to hell!
XOXO
Winnychan
Leonardo had given up trying to care about anything else Don might have to say to them about kissing. Staring down at his kneepads, a part of him recognized that his thoughts had run sullen and self-pitying. Still he allowed himself a brief fit of angst with the vague notion that he might privately purge some of his bitterness.
Right now he was wishing for something within the code of Bushido that he could use to endorse a life of celibacy. On the tails of that thought, the heavy irony that maybe he should have been more open to the Ancient One's attempts to convert him to Buddhism. At least then he would have an excuse.
Leo's gaze broke upwards to study each of his brother's faces in turn, then plunged back into his lap with a brief scowl. He was the first son. The first to be released from the academic lessons they had endured throughout boyhood (though Don would have surpassed him easily, if he hadn't been such a procrastinator for any assignments that didn't interest or challenge him). First to master almost every single kata. First to be handed a bokken. First to be given real weapons, blunted – then first granted permission to sharpen them. First to need training beyond what Master Splinter could teach them. First to undergo his trials. He knew that it was only a matter of time before he was the first of them to achieve the rank of chunin.
He'd been the first to draw blood. First to deal death. He was first in line to lead them all, goddamn it! And yet somehow, Leonardo – first son of the Hamato clan – knew with a sinking feeling, a vast and awful certainty…
He was going to be the last one to get laid.
Dead last. Can my life get any more humiliating? Peeking back up at the list, these so-called 'stages of intimacy' Don still intended to cover, he had to check himself to keep from groaning. Why, yes… actually it could.
A more mature voice in his head spoke up then to chide him. So, is this pity party over yet?
Screw this whiny self-indulgence. It was pointless, and not helping him in the slightest. Instead he would wipe his mind and emotions blank with the methods taught to him by his masters. Pulling his spirit free of his body, he envisioned his angry, immature emotions as an oil painting sitting on a wooden easel before him.
The painting itself was done in dark, violent colors, thrown together with messy, artless haste. (—more detail, my son! You must not neglect details.) Freshly painted, it was smeared and dripping in places, the slick contours reflecting wetly in the low light. (Show me the way light reflects on its surfaces, my son. Show me the shadow that falls behind it.) He looked towards the source of the light, and there now stood a single candle propped upright in a glass jar. Grey rivulets of wax ran down and over the lip of the jar on one side. (—simple enough just to envision a thing. A true master also knows the texture, the weight of what his mind creates. In this way you can draw power and stability into all you would shape in the realm of spirit…)
There was another object gleaming on the small, battered table: a silver painter's knife. The original had been a forgotten antique, taken with permission from April's shop before the Foot Clan had burned it to the ground. He reached for it and was immediately dissatisfied with his efforts. Instead of his father's patient guidance, he now heard the harsh criticism of his sensei across the sea. (Looka dis, fall all apaht like ashes. Poof! No moh! …Pah. You gimme betta. Dissa' vision so bad, he can't get to nobody else'ah mind. He nebba' gon' suhbibe da trip!) The handle was made of polished shell. It had probably been lovely once, but its prismatic shimmer had given way to discolored swirls of yellow and brown. It was polished smooth and silken to the touch from years of loving use… (No moh dis garbage, Kumquat! You master dis lesson or you can nebba get any betta…) Suddenly he recalled that the shell had cracked on one side. When he turned the knife over, there it was…. He bounced the knife gently in his palm, then ran his thumb over the small ravine, caked black inside from the buildup of paint and dirt that had collected there over the years… (Yes. Solid… and even more beautiful than I remember. Well done.)
Holding the knife out before him, he placed its edge on the canvas and brought it down with all the slow reverence of a sacred ritual. He watched the paint scrape away like it had never been, leaving only clean white canvas in its wake…
It's not like this is some kind of achievement. It's not a trial to be passed. It's personal…
A mess of black and green oil was growing on the side of the blade now, and he lifted it off the painting and studied it for a moment.
Some healthy competition between us can be a good thing, but it will hurt our team in the long run if I insist on making a contest out of everything.
He lifted the hand not holding the knife, holding it palm-up. "Palette," he whispered, and felt it drop onto his hand. Leo knew it was there, knew that it was perfect, even without looking. The whorls in the stained wood, the texture – rougher on the underside, whereas the top was oiled soft and smooth. He'd held it, and had dreamt himself holding it, often enough before.
Leonardo wiped the knife clean against the edge of the palette before setting the silver tool down on the canvas again. Dark purples and bruise-colored greens peeled away under the efforts of his knife. Not like any of them would really think less of me… At least, they wouldn't say so to my face. Wouldn't dare…
Scrape and wipe and scrape again. Red and black congealed in bloody swirls before the sweep of his blade. Do I really think it's anything to boast about, being the first to kill a man? Is it really such a good thing, to have become so acclimated to dealing death that I would take pride – sometimes even pleasure – in the same deeds that used to make me sick with remorse and shame?
It was still a disaster, but he continued to work stubbornly. He would scrape his soul clean of this mess.
Meanwhile, Raphael was getting pretty fed up. This stupid Talk was quite possibly the most awkward and annoying thing he had ever had to sit through in his entire LIFE. And Leo, who is supposed to have my back, is in some kinda deep communion with his kneepads. Great… just great.
When he couldn't take it any more, he drew back his elbow and thumped it against Leo's bridge as hard as he felt he could get away with without drawing Donatello's wrath. Leonardo startled and looked over to give him a black look. Raph returned it stubbornly for a moment. Then he faced pointedly forward and hissed out of the side of his mouth, "Don's looked over at you a couple times, now. He's gonna pitch a bitch in a second here if you don't cut it out."
"Sorry," Leo mumbled, dropping his eyes and scowling down at his hands.
"Yeah, well, you should be," Raph grumped. "You ARE working on a plan, yeah? Not just, like… skippin' around in la-la-land while the rest of us sit here and suffer, right?"
"By the rest of us, I assume you just mean yourself," Leo pointed out, neatly dodging the question. He'd always been good at coming up out of his happy place and quickly reorienting himself, and now he tipped a nod towards where Don had found an eager participant in Mikey.
"Yeah, pretty much," Raph agreed sullenly, ducking his chin close to his plastron and folding his arms.
Now they were going over – mouth positioning? Mike was trying to emulate a crudely drawn diagram and Don was calling out amused corrections. "Geez, Mike! The idea is not to swallow half her face."
After watching them for a moment, Leonardo squicked and made a face before carefully schooling his expression neutral again. Watching this reaction from his older brother, Raphael felt somewhat mollified. Okay, he thought, at least he's still with me on this.
"Actually, I'm fine with it if they wanna perv out together," he said in a low mutter, "so long as they leave me the hell alone. I swear, Leo… If he says he wants us to, like -- I dunno, practice kissing on dummy heads or something? I'm gonna flip the fuck out."
"If it comes to that," Leo said, nodding once, "I'll flip out with you."
"Look, you two," Don raised his voice suddenly, giving the pair still on the couch a bruised look. "If you wanna tune me out, that's fine I guess. But can you please not whisper amongst each other? I'm not deaf, and it's just really disrespectful and rude of you."
Raphael shot a glance towards Leo, mildly concerned by Don's cunning word choice. Those were definitely two of Leo's personal favorite reasons to bitch, and he was afraid they might have some weight with Leo when thrown back at him. But the blue-banded turtle merely met Don's accusations with a blank stare.
He waited another few seconds, but it was clear Leo was doing his non-reaction shtick. Raph decided he didn't have the patience for this any longer. "Leo, haven't we heard enough? Can we please just agree that this sucks and stop now?"
"No, we may not!" Don protested, gaping at him.
Raph stood up, balling his fists, "Well, I'm sorry Don, but we're maybe gonna have to veto you here. Because it does. It sucks, and it's just gonna' keep on sucking 'til we step up and put a stop to it!"
"We are not 'putting a stop' to anything because we don't have permission to stop yet," Don reminded him, eyes flashing with anger.
Leo's gaze was hovering between his arguing brothers now, failing to acknowledge either of their glances begging his support. "Well, I wasn't really askin' for your permission, Don! I'm putting a stop to it now. With force, if necessary!"
"I wasn't talking about MY permission, Raph," Don corrected bitterly, narrowing his gaze. "I was talking about Splinter's!"
"Now, wait. Nobody's using brute force to solve this," Leo finally asserted, getting up to his feet as well.
It was not what Raph wanted to hear. "Oh, so now you're suddenly on his side?" He was stung, and blustering to cover it. "FINE! I'm still not putting up with it! Not anymore. I'm done! And you're done too, if you know what's good for ya Don!"
"Dudes, shouting at each other isn't gonna make this go any faster," Mike reminded them all with a groan.
"It's not that I'm on his side, Raph—" Leo began, but was cut off promptly by Donatello.
"And why the hell IS that, I wonder? You know, I pretty much expected this sort of anti-authority attitude from him. But can you please tell me what I did to deserve it from you, Leo?"
Leo seemed to consider answering this, then blew Don off and turned to address Raphael instead. "Listen. It's not that I'm on his side. I'm pretty sure I want to put a stop to this three-ring circus as badly as you do…"
"HELLO?" Don cried, spreading his arms in disbelief. "Still in the room, here!"
Leo shot Don a warning look. "Oh, we can leave if you like." Then it was back to Raph. "The thing is, I still refuse to solve this by beating him up or verbally abusing him."
Raph actually looked down at his feet for a moment to consider this. "Well… that IS kinda how we solve most of OUR problems," he reasoned when he glanced up again, briefly smug.
Leo matched his wry grin. "Yes, well. If you haven't noticed, that doesn't work on Don. You two are about as different as night and day."
"Thank the ancestors for that," Don muttered under his breath.
"Enough!" Leonardo whirled on Don reproachfully. "I said no more insults!"
"Well, spit it out if you've got a better idea," Raph prompted, folding his arms. "What do we do instead, Leo?"
"We do what you suggested in the first place," Leo decided. "We go to Master Splinter and tell him how we feel about this class."
"No. Fuck that! Changed my mind. What's the point?" Raph scowled. "You know it's not gonna make a damn bit'a difference. Or… actually? Maybe you don't! Coz normally you're the one in HIS position! So lemme just spell it out for you, 'cause this is how it's gonna go. Splinter's put DON in charge of this thing." Raph stabbed a finger at Donatello. "And if we all go in there cryin' to sensei about how much we don't wanna do this, HE'S the only one who's gonna have Master Splinter's ear. Trust me. And like… welcome to my world!"
"Leo, that's ridiculous," Don began. "Splinter would never…" But he rolled his eyes in exasperation when he took in Leo's lapse into stony silence. Raph's words had struck a chord in him.
"Raph's probably right," Leonardo said at length. "I mean, there are still things I'd really like to bring up with him. But I can't help remember the last thing Master Splinter said to me when this whole thing started…" His expression darkened and he looked away bitterly, "The only order he gave me was, 'See that your brothers mind him well'. So, yeah… I'm pretty sure he's going to hold me to that."
"You can bet on it," Raphael agreed dourly.
"Alright. So since we're not going to Splinter – and we're not going to kick his shell or stand around flinging insults at one another – I'm sorry Raph, but talking it over is pretty much the only option we have left."
"Was afraid you'd say something like that," Raph sighed, pushing the heels of his palms against his eyes for a second. "Grghh… Yeah. Okay. We can try that."
"Well, then this is rather monumental, Raph!" Don said with a tight smile. "Are you also going to try to use some more descriptive adjectives than "sucks" and "stupid" for this constructive criticism of yours?"
"YOU SEE?" Raph roared, whirling on Leo. "How am I supposed to talk to him when he's like that?"
"Don! He agreed to talk instead of fight about it, and you're STILL being petty and demeaning. Cut it out. Raph... It's your turn. Talk. Please."
"Er… sure. So this Talk of yours… it's kind of. We hate it."
"Okay," Don encouraged, circling an upturned palm vaguely. "Adjective time."
Mike had been mostly quiet throughout this bickering, but now groaned a warning, "Don…"
"Look, believe me when I say I'm thrilled to hear that he's agreed to try some non-violent methods of problem solving for once in his life! But if he doesn't say anything that I can actually use to better my efforts, then what's the point of even talking?"
"This time he's got some constructive points, Don!" Leo defended. He shot Raph a quick, questioning look. At least, I hope he does.
"We'll see about that. You're just ganging up on me, as far as I can tell. Say all the negative things you want about the lesson I've put together, or me personally as a teacher, but don't tell me I'm wasting everyone's time. Because this fact remains: I am NOT the primary cause for why this is taking so long. And if there's something else, I'd really like to hear it. Because I've STILL failed to pin down exactly what it is about the lesson that has everyone's tails in a knot."
"Uh, for the record… MY tail? One-hundred percent straight, dudes."
"Yeah, I think we've established that, Mikey," Don giggled, glad for the break in tension. The tense set of his shoulders had relaxed slightly. Mike's joke had reminded him that not everyone was against him.
"Quiet, Mike!" Raphael snapped impatiently. "And Don, I'm 'bout to TELL you, if you'd shut up for two seconds and listen to me! Now… this Talk of yours, it's obvious you don't even KNOW us well enough to try and school us on this stuff."
"You know, you're absolutely right! That's why I felt I had to just try and cover everything, in the hopes that—"
"Everything?" Raph bellowed. "Take a look at that list, Don! I can tell you right now, ya ain't even coming CLOSE!"
"What ABOUT the list?" Don countered, shooting it a glance and looking honestly baffled now. "Seriously, what? Are you trying to refute the items on the list already, or is it missing steps, or what? If it's just because it embarrasses you…"
"NO! Now would'ja quit yapping for two seconds, Don? You been at it all morning, and Leo said it's MY turn now. So SHADDUP ALREADY and listen to what I got to say, for cryin' out loud!"
Don folded his arms and nodded grudgingly. "Go on, then. I'm listening."
Raph eyed his brainy brother as if daring him to open his mouth again. Don didn't, pressing his mouth together in a flat line and arching his brow ridges expectantly. Raph glanced back at Leo, who gave him an encouraging nod. Raph huffed once, trying to shed enough of his irritation to continue in a more reasonable tone. "Good. Now just… lemme try and get through to you. So, listen. Let's say you're this… I dunno. This super-genius freakboy with loads of engineering experience."
"Hypothetically," Donnie quipped in a smart-ass tone of voice.
"Right," Raph shot him a glare at the interruption but managed to hold on to his train of thought. "So, you're a genius and then you meet this other guy. And he's just, whatever. Dude who's spent some time in his garage. 'Nuff to think he knows his way around a box of tools, anyway. He's no Einstein, but he's thinkin' he can get the job done. And alright, so maybe he dunno how to calibrate the trans-rotational spin on the bi-lateral routers of the what-the-fuck-ever. But if all he's tryin' to do is get peg A into socket B? Then maybe – just maybe, Don – you better let him try and cram that fucker in there on his own before you jump in with all your fancy know-how, tryin' to read him the freakin' owner's manual!
"Just… give me a moment to sort through all the macho metaphors and grasp what you're actually trying to tell me here," Don sighed, starting to rub his temples.
Raph's eyes blazed at this, and his arms parted explosively. "What, I gotta SPELL IT OUT for ya? I'm sayin' keep your grubby hands off my toolbox, Donnie! And while you're at it, back the FUCK up outta my garage!"
Mike shifted his weight from one foot to the other, then spoke up suddenly. "Uh, can I jump in for a second?"
"No. You will be quiet," Leonardo ordered.
"What?" Mike puffed up, immediately offended. "Everyone else got their turn. Even Raph! And since all the arguing started, I HAVE been quiet. Really, really quiet! In fact, I probably woulda' broke the world record of Mike Quietness except for when I had to point out how straight my tail is. But it is though, right? So I just had to say that one thing."
"No. You did not. Now I said shut it!"
"I was defending its honor, dude! Because it's true. It's totally exit only. No exceptions!"
"You suddenly want your turn to talk, huh?" Leo was looming dangerously over Mike now. "Yeah. I'm sure you DO have something to say. Something cute and distracting, no doubt – and what a surprise! You've come up with it right when we've all reached our boiling point!"
"Uh… Leo? I think you just lost me." Mike wasn't sure how he managed to loom so well when they were both standing up and looking one another in the eye. He wasn't THAT much taller than Mike, but it never seemed that way when his big brother was an inch away from kicking his shell. "What… exactly are you tryin' to say, bro?"
"I'm saying that I am on to you, Michelangelo," Leo growled, forcing the smaller turtle back a step by moving towards him, refusing to let up. "And don't you dare play dumb with me! I see EXACTLY what you've been doing, and you're not going to get away with it again! Your tap dancing on Don's behalf ends now."
Mike opened his mouth and then closed it again.
"As of right now, this class is officially on hiatus until we figure this out! Now, Raphael has made some very valid points." Leo backed off of his advance on Mike, but continued heatedly. "And nobody's shouting now, so there is no need for you to jump in like you always do and smooth everything over."
"You were kinda almost shouting," Mike observed petulantly. He flinched when this earned him a dangerous look and went on quickly, "I'm just saying! Anyway, maybe I got valid some points too."
"What? Like housing costs in Biloxi?" Raph griped, thumping him on the shoulder.
"Ow! No, dude! Like, actual ones. For real."
Don swallowed and spoke up softly, "If Mike has valid points… I would really like to hear them. So, please go ahead."
Leonardo did NOT like having his word trumped, and opened his mouth to say as much. Then he closed it, remembering that Don was in charge, and looked down at the floor bitterly.
Mike nodded. "Great. Well, first of all, you guys are kinda bein' jerks. I mean…" He tugged on the tails of his bandana and glanced away sheepishly as he continued. "I goof off in lessons and stuff, but you guys are bein' ten times as bad. There's just been nothing but serious jerkdom outta both of you all morning."
"Okay," Leo allowed evenly.
"Hey, if I have to use better adjectives, then so does he," Raph grumbled. "Cuz that 'jerkdom' one was kinda stupid."
"And it sucked, too," Leo threw in, earning a smirk from Raph.
"Secondly," Mike went on, unruffled because he was quite confident in his awesome command of the English language, "Donnie obviously doesn't wanna be sayin' all this stuff any more than you dudes wanna hear it. This is not the way Don acts when he's havin' a good time. In fact, he seems to be havin' such a NOT fun time that I'm pretty sure he had no choice about it in the first place. I mean… duh. Come on."
Everyone looked at Don. He shifted his weight uncomfortably, not looking at anyone. "Of course I don't have a choice," he said softly.
"Well, even still, Don!" Raph scowled. "The way you're goin' about it really su— I mean. It's really… Uh. It's lacking."
Don looked towards the ceiling. "Raph, that still means nothing. It's the exact same thing."
"DAMNIT! You know what I FUCKING MEAN!"
"Raph," Leo couldn't help a small smile now, putting a hand on his brother's shell to stop him. "Why don't I do the talking. Okay?"
"Great." He waved at Leo in frustration. "Yeah, go for it."
Leo looked back at Mike expectantly. "So, DID you have any other points to make?"
"Yeah. Uh, thirdly… um." Mike didn't, actually. His mouth worked for a moment, then he floundered, "Also, I can see what you're saying about those housing costs. You know, I didn't even think of that! I better consult Suzanne Wang and see what she has to say about it… like, ay-sap."
Raph scrunched his face in confusion. "Who the hell's Suzanne Wang?"
"Dude! Ok, aside from the whole last name thing, which is just all kinds of hysterical – for an older chick, she's the hottest! My own personal HGTV Goddess. How can you NOT know who Suzanne Wang is?"
"Because I don't watch the fucking Home and Garden channel? And I'm kinda disturbed that you do, Mike. We live in a sewer, fer chrissakes!"
"I don't even care! I'll watch her for hours, bro. She's just so perky! In like, all KINDS of awesome ways!"
"MICHELANGELO!" Leo blazed. "I have warned you repeatedly NOT to do this—!"
"Well, actually," Don piped up, shuffling forward suddenly to stand between Mike and his big brother, "his first two points were valid, Leo."
"Oh yeah! I'm just SUCH A JERK, Don! Maybe I just don't believe that any of us NEED to hear this stuff! How is ANY of this list appropriate to talk about in a lesson? Does Splinter know about this list? Have you actually read him the lesson plan?" He shifted his stance to include all of them, pointing an accusing finger towards Donatello as he continued hotly. "If this Talk was about safety, or doing the right thing, then FINE. I would understand. I could submit to that. But I am not about to sit here and listen to Don explain to me the intricacies of... of FINGERING GIRLS! And… and all the rest of it! I highly doubt that Master Splinter meant for this Talk to be so graphic and OBSCENE, and I've had JUST ABOUT ENOUGH OF IT!"
Everyone was staring at Leo now. It occurred to him that he may, in fact, have been shouting just then. Trying to rein it in, he gestured sharply at Raphael and grumbled, "That's my main problem, anyway. Did you have anything else you wanted to add to that, Raph?"
"Fuckin' A," was all Raph could come up with, giving him a huge and somewhat misty-eyed grin.
"Well. All right then," Leo concluded. "There you have it, I guess."
"So… just hold on a minute. I never meant for any of it to be obscene. I – and I really don't feel that it HAS been, I mean - I never…" Don was clearly flustered now. He turned to sweep his notes up off the card table and began rifling through them anxiously.
"Plenty of what you've been saying to us has been completely inappropriate. But if you need hard evidence, well, I'm pretty confident that THIS-" Leo paused and strode forward, tearing the Jenna Jameson picture off the whiteboard. He held up Display D accusingly. "This right here? Counts as obscene, Don."
This decisive action drew an immediate cry of protest from Mike. "My BABY! Don't you dare talk about my new true love like that! Give her here, Leo! You may not approve of our love, but nothing you can say will ever stop us. Me and Jenna are going to last forever!"
Leo had been sorely tempted to crumple the display into a ball, but he knew that any satisfaction he got from this would be short-lived. Ultimately, it was more important for him to be able to claim that he had acted rationally and maturely if and when Master Splinter got involved. He held the display out stiffly. "You are welcome to her, Mike," he declared with obvious distaste. "I'm sure you'll be quite happy with one another."
"Mmm… thought we weren't resorting to insults," Don said without looking up from where he was now leaning over the card table, making some last minute changes to his outline.
"No foul there, bro. That's the God's honest truth!" Mike gave Display D one last, loving look before rolling it up carefully and using the sticky tack still attached to the corners to keep it fastened. He set it down on the floor under the armrest he had claimed throughout the lesson. Then he bounced back over to the others and announced, "So! Uh, whose turn is it to shout and be all blustery and offended now? I lost track."
"I could go another round," Raph grinned. "Hell, this 'talk shit out' thing is gettin' better by the minute."
"No! No more shouting. Please," Don sighed, straightening and tapping his papers against their edges to realign them into a neat stack. "Leo, I'm just going to restate the offer I made to you earlier. I thought we could last until the basics part was over, but – clearly your concern is more urgent than I'd realized initially, so – yeah. Let's just step outside right now and I'll go over everything I was going to cover, and we can come to some kind of agreement. Because really the last thing I want is to fight about it."
Raphael gave a snort at this, but Leo held up a hand to ward off anything he might have to say about that sentiment. "Agreed."
"Aww, he's just going to take out all the good parts," Mike complained, directing his appeal at Raph.
Raph shot Mike a look, clearly unmoved by this reasoning, and then looked at Leo. "It's gonna get shorter, right?"
"Most definitely," Leo assured him. Things were going his way now, and he was starting to look pleased.
"Then go for it. Still don't know why he's gotta leave the room to figure this crap out," he added grumpily. "But – you've got it covered, so – y'know. Whatever."
"It's so no one else has to see it, if they wind up flippin' out on each other," Mike guessed, falling back onto the couch with a flop and slumping down into the cushions.
"Nobody's flipping out on anyone," Don asserted in a short voice. "We're just stepping outside for a moment to work this out like the intelligent, rational beings that we are. Right, Leo?" With that, he tucked his papers under one arm and stalked out of the room.
"Uh, right," Leo agreed, missing a beat. But on the next he had recovered and was moving to follow Don with his usual confident stride.
"Just don't take TOO long, yeah?" Raph called after his departing brothers. "If I have to come out and getcha 'cause yer taking forever, m'gonna be pissed."
When he got no reply, Raph sighed and shook his head, thoroughly frustrated. He moved back to the couch and flopped down beside Mike. "This blows."
"You're telling me," Mike agreed, folding his arms and pulling his face into a sulk. "And not just the taking forever part. I mean… what the hell is wrong with you, bro? How could'ja let Leo get away with all that? He's just gonna take out all the good parts until it's one big crummy lecture. The whole thing's going to totally suck now!"
"You kiddin' me? It already DID suck. And it WILL suck, even after Leo gets done with it. It HAS to. It's like, doomed to suck, okay? And there ain't nothin' we can do about it. Least this way we won't hafta' sit here for so long."
"I repeat… what is WRONG with you?" Mike spread his hands, looking at Raph urgently. "How can you say it's gonna suck LESS because Leo's gonna have his way with it? I mean, hel-lo? Last time I checked, Leo's kinda long-winded himself! Gah. Please grow some balls, Donnie! PLEASE! Don't let Leo make the whole thing be completely, ginormously BORING!"
"Shove it, Mike! At least it won't gross me out so much after Leo's done guttin' it."
"What was so gross about it? You were seriously grossed?" Mike looked over like he found this very interesting.
Raph widened his eyes, then began to growl and splutter defensively. "What? No! It's just – all I'm sayin' is, when it's comin' from DONNIE—!"
"Who cares if it's coming from Donnie? Dude, that makes it ten times funnier! Cause' he's so… y'know, he's DONNIE! He almost NEVER joins in when I'm droolin' over girls, an' start sayin' stuff… Cept' maybe to chew me out for not bein' respectful to women, if I got carried away! Anyway, Don's like… I dunno. Raph. Sorry, but it seems extra stupid to be embarrassed when it's him we're talkin' about. I mean, yeah -- he'll get on your case for using sucky adjectives, or not makin' any sense, or like – maybe he'll harp on you to help out around the house and stuff. But when it's this sort of thing? Like, questions about girls or puberty, or – well, pretty much any of the really awkward stuff in life? He'd be the last one to laugh. Seriously! He just doesn't think that way. He's immune. He's the guy who, like, doesn't even bat an eye about havin' to change bed pans if one of us gets seriously hurt. Or he'll give us sponge baths, or whatever we need!"
"Ugh," Raph mumbled, shaking his head. "Can we just… maybe not talk about any 'a that stuff, either?" He was the only one who had ever wound up so hurt as to need any of that, and they both knew it.
"But he does, dude! He'll do any nasty thing we need him to do for us. And then afterwards, when we're all better, he won't say one word about it! No matter how embarrassing the thing was. It's like he doesn't even think to! Seriously, there was this one time, and he didn't even tease me one single bit, even after I needed his help 'cause I'd accidentally got my – uh, you know -- stuck in this…"
"MIKE!" Raph had his hands cupped on either side of his face now. "Just… just stop! I get it, okay? Just, never mind! Jesus! I mean, what was I thinkin'? Of course nothin' would ever gross YOU out. You been too much of a weirdo from day one."
Mike was not phased by this quick assessment of his weirdness. The truth was, he was not phased by most of the things his brothers could think of to say about him. Raphael felt this was one of his most infuriating traits – but at the same time, he was wise enough to be glad for it. Anybody who wanted to be Raph's friend and stay that way had better develop thick skin and a resilient disposition. Mike had always been good for that.
But this was one of the times it was just an annoyance. Even now, Mike was peering at Raph with a new level of scrutiny that was making the larger turtle start to feel very uncomfortable. "What are you LOOKING AT?" he finally growled, unable to ignore him any longer.
"Are you hiding something?" Mike wondered. "Is that what this is about?"
When Raph didn't answer except to grunt with annoyance, Michelangelo began to smile. It was a very diabolical, close-lipped smile, and as he watched it continued to unfurl slowly, wrapping up the sides of his green freckled face and going all curly with mirth at the corners. Immediately, Raph was struck with the notion that his brother might actually have more up his sleeve than just making sure the Talk took forever and was as gross as possible. Staring back at that awful smile, Raph couldn't help thinking Mike might also have plans to rob Whoville blind and steal Christmas.
"You ARE!" Mike crowed at last, sitting forward and laughing. "You are, you totally are! There's no use denying it, bro. I can always tell." He leapt forward, grabbing Raph by the shell and trying to shake it out of him. "NOW TELL ME! Tellmetellmetellme! I demand to know! I won't say anything to Leo and Don, I swear! I swear on my life! If I had pinkies, I would absolutely swear by them! So tell me! What is it? Did you do some stuff? Are you afraid Splinter's gonna find out? Are you afraid WE'RE gonna find out? Cause like, you shouldn't worry! Actually… lemme take that back. Except for Leo, you totally shouldn't even sweat it!"
"Would'ja leave it alone, Mike?" Raphael groaned, twisting his head around as far as it would go to avoid the other turtle's hopeful, over-eager gaze. "You don't know nothin' about it."
"You're right, I totally don't know… much. Heh. Pretty sure I know some, though. Stop being so dense and listen, Raph! Remember how well Don took my whole stupid first kiss thing? Well, since he's still the one in charge, this is like your big chance to finally come clean!"
"Lucky me," Raph muttered. "Come clean about what, 'zactly? Like, which part? With who? Tell me, where do YOU think I should start, if you know so much about it?"
Mike gave a series of slow blinks at these questions. "Dude. How the heck should I know?"
"Yeah, see?" Raph waved a hand of dismissal and looked away again. "S'cuz you DON'T know. So quit tryin' to play me like you got all this crap about me all figured out, when it's obvious you got nothin'! And just… stay the hell out of my business! You'll live longer."
"Awwww. Just tell 'em, Raph! WHOEVER it is you been seein'. All those times you go up to the surface and don't creep back in 'til after sunrise… There's just gotta be a girl behind some of 'em!"
Raph flashed a scowl at Mike before twisting away again, sending his stormy gaze off towards one of the brick walls. "Already came clean about those times, Mikey. I was doin' the Nightwatcher thing, remember? You know that. Hell, everybody knows that!"
"Uh-huh. Sure thing, bro. Cause' I mean, 'course you haven't EVER stayed out all night since Master Splinter took your stupid helmet away. Not even ONCE, right? Yeah, that's what I thought. Look, all I'm sayin' is, Splinter's the one who suddenly wants us to talk about all this stuff in the first place. So now it's like, instead of getting in trouble like you normally would, it will just be all – Raph's being way HONEST! And like, doing as he's told and stuff! Someone get the camera! Heh. So, yeah. Seriously, it's the perfect time. Are you gettin' any of what I'm sayin' here?"
"No, Mike. I ain't gettin' it. And you sure as hell don't seem to be gettin' it either! Look, will ya just drop it? Cause I ain't sayin' jack. Not to you, and not to any of them! If Splinter wanna know a whole buncha stuff about how wild and crazy I am, well," Raph hitched his shoulders in a defensive shrug. "Well, he can just drag me into his room like usual! And if I feel like it, maybe I'll spill." Raph bared his teeth at Michelangelo warningly. "But I swear, if you don't get out of my face right now with all yer lame advice and all these nosy questions, the only honest yer gonna get outta' me is an honest beat down. Got it?"
Mike sat back, looking sullen and disappointed. "Fine. Be all stupid and mysterious if you wanna. I'm just sayin', yer missing a golden opportunity here. Anyway, you're the lame one for tryin' to be so secretive when everybody already knows you got with that one Lucindra chick. Everyone except for Don, I mean. Cause, well, I keep hearin' you tell him that you don't need to hear any of what he's saying, and it's obvious to me why you're sayin' it. And probably obvious to Leo, too. But none of that is gonna fly with Donnie unless you back it up with some facts. Point-blank and to his face, you know? That's just how he is, all science-brained and oblivious. He's gotta have the facts all lined up and spelled out for him before he believes anything. And sometimes it sucks, but – if you can't talk to him about it, then you might as well just settle in and listen to what he's got to say like the rest of us n00bs. And maybe stop makin' his life miserable, already! Cause I gotta tell ya, that started getting old like a year and a half ago. Which means by now, it's like… really, really old."
"Whoa! Fuck'sat supposed to mean?" Raph snarled, rising immediately to the new bait. "That ain't fair at all! You know I ain't done shit to him lately! HE'S the one still always ridin' my ass and startin' up shit with his stupid little comments, always correctin' every other word outta my mouth and cuttin' me down under his breath every time I turn around! N'here I was, stupid enough to hope that maybe once Leo got back we'd be cool again! Like, maybe if the pressure was off he could figure out how to stop bein' such a passive-aggressive little twat all the time, but – guess not, right? 'Cause here we are, what – three weeks in now? Yeah. Leo's been home for three whole weeks, and not a damn thing has changed! He's still the same – hey!"
Raph was cut short when Mike abruptly got up off the couch and started striding away from him. Throughout the whole rant his only response had been a flat stare, and now he was shaking his head slowly and stalking away at a quick pace. Raph saw that he was now heading towards the same archway through which Leo and Don had made their exit.
"Hey! Where d'ya think yer goin?" Raph called again, determined to stay where he was at first. But when Mike didn't acknowledge him, he finally dragged himself up off the comfort of the beat-up cushions and rose to follow him. After closing about half of the distance, he halted and hissed at his brother from where he stood. "Mike! Get back here, would'ja? Leave 'em alone. Ya gotta stop stickin' your nose where it ain't wanted, for cryin' out loud! Leo's got it covered!"
Mike ignored him, creeping on the balls of his feet now and carefully peeking around the corner once he reached it. "Huh. Coast's clear. Must have gone into the dojo," he called back, like Raph actually cared. Then he had rounded the corner and disappeared down the hallway.
Raph exhaled sharply, exasperated. Clearly Michelangelo was dead set on being a nosy little jerk tonight, and nothing Raph could say was likely to sway him. He went back to the couch and flumped down to wait for the eventual return of his brothers.
He decided to occupy the time with dreams of where he might go, and what all he might do, when Don's Talk was finally concluded and he could get the hell out of here. Any time he felt caged or suffocated by the close-quarters of the lair he had to share with his obnoxious, unfathomable brothers, the surface world seemed to call him like a distant siren. And during times like this one, when leaving was impossible, it was often enough for him just to dream of his above-ground adventures. For many years it had been a comfort to him, the idea that he had seen things his brothers would never see, and braved dangers his brothers would never face. Back home he was made to share almost everything, but these ghetto streets he watched over had became his somehow. He had made the choice to favor and protect them, and the lives of the people on those streets were better now because he bothered to look out for them. Such thoughts usually made him feel powerful – not stronger, but like he was in control of his life for once instead of eternally trapped by it.
Mostly Raphael only had to think of the surface world – his secret routes through the city, and the places he had claimed – and it would bring him comfort, some a sense of contentment, however small. Normally it would be enough to stall off that familiar feeling of restlessness whenever it began to gnaw impatiently at his insides.
It wasn't enough this time. He found his mind was working in circles now, always returning to the same bitter thought: whatever mischief he got into tonight would be no where near as bold or exhilarating as the sordid adventures he was having in his little brother's optimistic dreams.
"Alright, let's backtrack for a second. I still really don't know about this one. I can see what you're saying about why you feel the need to cover it, but – can't you see how easily a topic like this could take a turn for the worse? You've got to promise me you're going to stay on task with it, Donnie. Oh, and there won't be any more gross visual aids, right? We do NOT need to see what that looks like."
Mike couldn't quite hear Don's answer to that. He couldn't get any closer without risking being seen. Donatello's responses were getting lower each time, now coming in increasingly bitter mumbles. He could tell that Don had been pushed nearly to the end of his patience.
Honestly, Mike couldn't blame him. He'd only been listening for a minute or two, and already there had been several things Leonardo had said – particularly, false assumptions he'd made about what they all could and couldn't 'handle' -- that had nearly caused Mike to storm into the dojo and give his oldest brother a piece of his mind.
"Michelangelo?"
Mike froze and widened his eyes at the sound of his full name. He backed away from the door and turned, creeping forward to stand before his master. "Hi, Master Splinter. So uh, how was your nap?"
His father ignored the pleasantries and got right to the point. "What are you doing out here? And why is Raphael sitting by himself in the common room?" The old rat's shrewd eyes swept over him, then lanced towards the entrance to the dojo. "Are your brothers in there?"
"Yeah, I guess," Mike admitted, ducking his head down and shrinking in on himself. It never sat well with him, the feeling of tattling on his brothers. On the other hand, it became easier when he stopped to consider who it was he was about to tattle on. He knew that if their situations were reversed, Leonardo would not hold back from telling Master Splinter exactly what had happened and how he felt about it. "Leo and Raph ganged up on Donnie and then Leo said the class was on hiatus. And now he's in there bossing Don around, talkin' about what he can and can't say in front of us. He's all, take out this part, and this part, and all these parts gotta go... And poor Donnie! I mean, he was up all night working on this lesson. He did a really good job and put all this work into it, and now Leo's in there just tearin' it apart!"
"I see," Splinter frowned, sparing him a glance and then looking back towards where they could now both hear Leonardo speaking up to assert himself.
"Alright. Fine then, so long as there's no pictures or the descriptions don't get too graphic. But this one – ok, do I even need to explain myself for this one?"
"Yes, Leo." Don's voice was flat but clear to hear this time. "I think you had better. I'm trying to be open minded here, but like I told you, I am not making any changes without good justification."
"I'm not sitting around discussing that with my brothers, Don. It's disgusting!"
"If you think that's disgusting, you're even more repressed than I thought."
"What did you just say to me?"
"Yes!" Mike whispered, pumping a fist in the air. "Finally! Tell him where he can stick it, Don!"
Splinter cleared his throat softly, causing Mike to remember whose company he was in.
"Erk… Sorry Master Splinter," he apologized lamely.
"You know what, Leo? It's really become clear to me by now that you have very strong values and a rigid set of personal beliefs when it comes to sex. Yes, I can see now that above all else I must make sure to respect that."
Mike could read Don well enough to know that crisp tone and the subtle note of sarcasm that had crept into his words did not bode well for Leonardo. He was sure Leo had heard it too. His oldest brother responded in kind, his words dripping with false courtesy as he replied, "Well, I'm so glad to hear it, Donnie. It seems we're finally getting somewhere."
"Yes. Spirits forbid that I should be the one to trespass on your personal beliefs. I think maybe Splinter will allow it if I recommend that you be excused from this Talk after all."
Oh man, thought Mike. Is he really giving up on Leo?
"Wow. Well, I'm… yeah! That sounds great. It's just… what about Raph? He doesn't wanna sit through it any more than I do. You should let him go too."
"Oh, no. Raph's staying. At least until he comes up with some good justification for himself. In the meantime, I'm sure Splinter will understand and agree to it if I develop a private lesson for you instead. You know, one better suited to accommodate all your weird hang—um, your very strong values."
"Now, wait just one second. I don't need any private lesson…"
"You have nothing to worry about, Leo. This next lesson plan is going to be right up your alley!"
"Is that so?" There was a dangerous note in Leonardo's voice now. Mike leaned forward in suspense.
"Absolutely! There will be no cursing, no goofing off, and no visual aids to speak of. Well, nothing with graphic pictures anyway. We can still do things like maybe develop a chart that plots all sexual acts into one of the following categories based on their appropriateness: Okay So Long as You Don't Talk About It, Probably Shouldn't, Don't Do It, and Completely Unthinkable."
"Now you're just asking for it…" Leo snarled.
"Let me through, my son. I have heard enough."
"But sensei, it's just finally getting good!" Mike pleaded quietly.
"I'm perfectly serious! Mostly, in this new class we'll just be promoting a long and lonely life spent married to duty, honoring one's family, and devoting oneself to ninjutsu…"
"Move away from the door, Michelangelo," Splinter ordered again. This time Mike reluctantly stepped aside.
"It will be great. And here's the best part! You can still jerk off, so long as you feel mildly ashamed of yourself afterw—nhf!"
Splinter burst into the room just in time to see them both hit the ground.
Leonardo was atop Donatello now, closing both hands around his throat. "How DARE you say that to me! How dare you do any of this? Endangering our family… encouraging your brothers to do the same? THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT!"
"Gkkh…"
"Leonardo!
"I WON'T STAND BY AND LET YOU TEACH THEM THINGS THAT COULD DESTROY US ALL! HOW DARE YOU—!"
"LEONARDO! You will let your brother up this instant!" For the second time that morning, Splinter's staff came down with a sharp crack that commanded silence. The chaotic tableau froze.