A/N: Thank you for your patience on this chapter, I've been trying to bang it out as quick as I can. I've also been posting update info on my profile page if I'm running behind schedule, as I'm not sure where to put that kind of news. Check it out if you're ever wondering when the next chapter's a-comin'.
NB: This chapter runs a little long, apologies if that's off-putting.
Anyway, I hope you are enjoying it and I'd love to hear your thoughts. Without further ado:
10. CYGNUS
Leonardo was stretched out on his bunk and flipping through the pages of his book when he heard a knock on his door. He set it down on his chest.
"Yeah?"
"Can I talk to you for a moment, Leo?"
It was Donatello. Frowning, Leonardo twisted around to rest his feet on the floor.
"Yeah, come in."
The door swung in and Donatello stepped inside. He closed it pointedly behind him.
"What are you reading?" he asked casually.
Leonardo glanced back down at his book.
"It's the account of a ronin in feudal Japan. I like this one though, it delves more into the struggles the of his choices rather than plainly romanticizing the decisions he made. Some fantastical elements, but I think they suit the story." He marked his place in the book and set it beside him.
"Sounds good." he replied, nodding with polite interest.
Donatello's eyes wandered around the room. He rarely came in here, and it had changed little since he last remembered. The furnishings of his brother's room were spartan at best. His bed had been pushed into the corner of the far wall, leaving a large open space on the ground that had been bound with tatami mats. Opposite his bed sat a tidy bookshelf and a work desk where a number of wooden weapons sat in various stages of completion. The walls were adorned with several kakemono - hanging scrolls displaying calligraphy; whilst just beside him lay his twin katana, sheathed within their scabbards and placed in a horizontal stand, resting like the steel fangs of sleeping dragons. Most other things had been stored within his small cupboard, which Donatello had little doubt was just as orderly. However, despite its rigidity or maybe even because of it, Leonardo had instilled a peaceful calm into the room.
A meditation candle flickered low by his bed and Donatello's eyes were drawn to the dancing of the flame.
"How can I help you, Donnie?"
"I need to ask you a favor." he replied at length, finally breaking his gaze from the spark.
Leonardo returned a wary grin, "What is it?"
Leonardo waited patiently as his brother tentatively assessed the space like he was checking to see if it were safe to speak. He couldn't help but notice the deep hollows under Donatello's eyes, like he hadn't slept in days, and had a fair idea as to what had been the cause of his fatigue: April. Only days earlier they had learned that she had begun dating someone, and although she had mentioned it in casual passing, she had seemed more than reluctant in revealing it to them. Donatello had taken the news without a flicker of outward emotion. His reaction was uncanny, like she had done nothing more than tell them the time. And despite protesting himself as unaffected, his appearance now spoke for itself. It was as if whatever internal battle warring inside was draining him of life, and that whatever he was fighting, was winning.
Donatello opened his hand to reveal a key.
"This opens my door. I was hoping you could take it and slide it back into my room in the mornings before training. It's either this or the rope. The alarms don't wake me and unless someone decides they want to watch me all night, this is the best way to stop me getting out."
Leonardo held his brother in a steady gaze, and crossed his arms.
"Back to Plan A?"
Donatello nodded determinedly.
So, he's made up his mind. Leonardo decided to test the waters.
"And what if I refuse?"
A look of pained distress flittered across Donatello's face.
"Leo...I need to sleep." he whispered hoarsely, clenching the key tightly at his side.
"I understand that, but this is like putting a band-aid on a bullet wound."
Bowing his head in exhaustion, Donatello grimaced. He knew this would not have been as straight-forward as passing on the key, and resigned himself to the inevitable scrutiny of his brother.
"It's not just the sleepwalking..." Donatello began cryptically, "it's the dreams. It's not like before." He forced even breaths, hesitant to explain his nightmares.
"What is it?" Leonardo probed, "Tell me and I might consider."
Donatello's looked up at his brother, a haunted look crossing his face.
"Every night I dream the Foot kill her, right in front of me, and there's nothing I can do to stop it." he paused, the pain coursing through him, "I can't sleep...and I can't stay awake. I thought maybe if I'm unable to get out the lab... the dreams will stop on their own."
"April?" Leonardo asked gently, already knowing the answer.
Donatello nodded, his body slumping.
Great, Leonardo thought, No wonder he's been like this. He glanced over at his brother's wrist and could see new rope burns overlaying his old scars.
"And the rope?"
Donatello frowned looking down at the angry marks on his wrist, "It's tearing my hand off. These dreams are more...aggressive."
Leonardo felt a clench of apprehension in his stomach. In his mind he already knew that this was not going to work, but his brother seemed desperate. Desperate enough to ask for help, anyway. Something he rarely did in non-scientific matters.
"I'll do it, Don. But under one condition - if this doesn't stop within the week, we have to try something else. And there's another thing."
Donatello nodded, waiting for him to lay it out.
"You have let Splinter know." he said.
Donatello weighed this addendum in his mind. He hadn't even wanted to involve Leonardo, but things were slipping out of his control. And if there was any chance that these nightmares could stop, he would take it.
"Okay." he agreed softly. "If this doesn't work, I'll let him know."
Leonardo held up his hand and Donatello tossed the key over to him. It rang in the air before Leonardo caught it with a snap. It felt cold in his palm, like he was taking away some of his brother's burden. A note of relief seemed to pass over Donatello.
"Thanks, Leo."
"Just so you know, I don't expect this to work." Leonardo told him bluntly. "Nothing is going to be resolved until you confront whatever is causing your dreams."
Donatello breathed uneasily, the humor gone from him.
"How can I do that now? You know that she's seeing someone." he blanched at his own words, never before so blatantly admitting that April was at the root of his distress. He shifted uncomfortably on his feet.
"I know." Leonardo confirmed gently.
Leonardo looked around his room as if trying to find a solution within its walls. To know that they both held affection for each other was a strange knowledge to behold, as it was something he knew that they had not shared between themselves. It was a precarious situation as he was bound by loyalty to hold their secrets, even though he could see his brother crumbling before him. And he would not listen, he would not risk himself with her. And who knows if there would be anything left when the dust finally settled.
If he knew what she was feeling before she started dating Mark...it would kill him, he thought sadly.
Leonardo was still at a loss as to why April had so suddenly pushed away from her feelings towards his brother. On the night she had run into the sewers looking for Donatello she had admitted that there was something there...what had changed in the interim? Was she just scared? Or did she come to the conclusion that there was nothing there to begin with? Maybe Donatello was right after all, that their differences were too much of an obstacle to overcome. He sighed softly.
"You're right. The timing is not the best. But it just means that your choices are harder now. We'll see where this goes in a week and take it from there."
"Thanks, Leo. I appreciate it." his jaw set tightly and his gaze drifted back to the flame, watching it flicker and cast moving shadows on the wall, "I...I never knew how difficult it would be. Seeing her with someone else." he said softly.
Leonardo exhaled slowly, surprised by his brother's frankness.
"It'll be okay, Donnie. One way or the other, it'll be okay."
Donatello nodded, his eyes fixated on the floor. Tears stung his eyes but he refused to let them fall. If Leonardo had said it was going to be alright, he believed it, no matter how much his heart refused to.
"Thanks." he croaked dully. He turned on the spot and walked from the room, his mind lost within a swirling vortex of despair.
...
"Hold on!" April skipped across to her apartment entrance, her heels clacking on the floorboards as she fastened her right earring. She unlatched the chain and swung the door open. Leaning against the jamb was Donatello, wearing a neutral expression as he guardedly watched the hall.
"Don - I wasn't expecting you." she said, her head dipping slightly in pleasant surprise. Having come in through the front door was unusual for him, and she suspected he was out patrolling with his brothers.
He looked up, noticing her for the first time.
"A...April…" he barely managed to choke out.
He felt his insides constrict, stunned by her gorgeous appearance. Tonight she was dressed elegantly in a falling black gown, the satiny material almost skimming the floor. It gave a hint of her pale cleavage, thin straps exposing her smooth shoulders. He brought his gaze up, to where emerald drop earrings contrasted strikingly against her cascading hair, unaware that he had forgotten to breathe. Captivated.
"Just the impression I was hoping for." she answered with an alluring grin.
"You look…beautiful." he finally managed to say. "I'm sorry…this is a bad time. I'll come back."
April grabbed his arm. A delicate jasmine perfume enshrouded her and quickened his heart with a flush.
"No, no. Come in." She tilted her head indoors, and he stepped inside. She shut the door behind him with a gentle click. Noticing how tense he was, she tried to assuage his fears.
"So, how can I help you?" she said kindly, her eyes sparkling merrily.
He cleared his throat trying to pass off himself as collected, but she had quite literally taken his breath away. She must be going on a date, he thought despondently - the guy from the business card, the one from her work he had encouraged her to see. The thought struck him harshly. It felt like part of his world was disintegrating, and she the angel to herald in the end. Life wasn't fair, but when was it ever? Donatello clenched his jaw, trying stubbornly to get it together. Since she had started dating Mark she had seemed different, happy even, and wasn't that what it was all for? Her happiness in the world he couldn't be part of?
"Wow, I feel really under-dressed." he joked feebly. He glanced down at himself, bound in his regular knee pads and wrist-straps, suddenly feeling like a homeless person at the Ritz-Carlton.
"You look great, Don." she said, resting her hand briefly on his cheek, "Believe me, I'd be wearing jeans tonight if I could get away with it."
"That would be a shame." he said earnestly as he looked down at the ground, trying to focus on why he'd come here, "I uh…I left something, um, some tools here the other day and I came by to pick them up. I apologize...I didn't realize I was interrupting-"
April shook her head and clacked her tongue. She placed her hand on her forehead realizing what had happened.
"No, I remember...you left a message. I'm so sorry - this is my fault. I have this black tie fundraising event for work tonight that I completely forgot about. I'm carpooling with Mark and some other people from work...but they won't be here for a while yet, so don't worry."
She breathed in deeply, glowing, and Donatello couldn't help but feel a fleeting moment of insane jealousy. To hold her hand and walk outside together, to dine her in candlelight, to say she was his, and he hers - it would be a dream come true. One that he was destined not to be part of.
"I'll grab it now and be out of here."
"It's no trouble..." she insisted, "But would you mind helping me with this first? I can't quite reach it."
She swept her hair over her shoulder revealing a short unzipped section near the smooth nape of her neck. His eyes followed the curve down into her creamy shoulders, peppered with stray freckles, and he breathed in sharply, trying not to lose control. He wanted to kiss every one of them. He forced himself over to her, gently grasping the zip in his fingers and pulling it closed as she peered over her opposite shoulder at the floor. She smiled as it locked into place.
"Thanks." She released her hair and it fell in a rush of ribbons as a divine aroma ensnared him.
"So, you think I'll entice some investors to the A.I. division?"
He blinked slowly, lost in the moment.
"Yeah." he said quietly, "They'll fall right into your hands."
"Oh really? Like this?" She playfully held her hand towards him and he accepted with an amused look, desire flooding him. Her other hand fell onto his shoulder and they began to slowly dance in time to an unheard beat. Hand in hand with her, Donatello felt the world around him disappear.
"No music?" he noted, his heart hammering at the proximity to her, "This seems familiar."
One hand had dropped to rest on the smooth fabric that clung to her waist, her body lithe and warm. The light caught the shimmering green of her earrings against the smooth line of her neck, and he felt his pulse quicken with each step, captivated by her.
"That didn't seem to matter last time, remember, Mr Maritime History?" she said shaking her head with a chuckle, her fiery locks brushing over bare skin. The familiar lilt of her laugh put him at ease.
"I could never forget." he answered softly.
They danced with the grace and ease she remembered. April drew herself closer to him as her dress rippled around her slender legs like dark liquid. She smiled as the room lazily spun around them.
"I wish you could come tonight, Donnie. You know our stuff just as well as any of us in the department. " she told him gently.
Donatello offered her a self-deprecating smile.
"I'm kind of used to being on the outside looking in. My brothers and I have done it our whole lives. Besides, you'll do great without me, Miss O'Neil."
She frowned, her eyes searching his face.
"The outside? Is that what you think?" As they turned another slow circle she glanced over at her cabinet. "What do you see there?" she asked, tilting her chin towards her half of the sparkling amethyst rock.
Donatello returned her a confused look, oddly reminded of Splinter's question. He peered over her shoulder at the display. She had explained to him the history behind her collection of items years ago, and knew how much sentimental value they held to her. He noticed his own addition.
"The geode?"
"That's right." she said grinning, "You're already on the inside, Donnie - of my life, anyway. For what it's worth."
Donatello felt warm glow burning within. Her words were worth more than she could ever imagine.
"I guess I never thought of it like that." his eyes met hers in an intent gaze, and she squeezed his hand gently.
"Well, I thought you should know." she said quietly.
He gave a soft chuckle in return, "It looks nice in there."
"I thought you'd like it." she smiled, feeling as light as air.
They fell quiet, lost in their rhythm; their movement a series of perpetual steps, forwards and backwards. She breathed out a silent sigh, relishing their dance as her heart pummeled in her chest. The way he made her feel when in his arms was so intense she almost swooned. She had never realized just how incredibly attractive she found him. Despite his unusual appearance, her body responded powerfully towards him. What was it about him? The smell of soap and engine oil? The calluses on his clever hands? The firmness of his strong shoulders? She wanted to know, to learn all his secrets...
She dropped her eyes, her cheeks burning as a shiver raced down her spine.
What the hell is wrong with me? she asked herself, but deep inside she knew. She forced herself to switch off the thoughts. He's your friend, April. Your friend. She reminded herself over and over.
Donatello remained silent, watching her with curious interest. Had she blushed? He favored himself with the thought and felt a strange sense of elation. She was so close to him, so beautifully intoxicating, that the impulse to kiss her was overwhelming. He could smell her skin beneath the perfume, and a strong wave of lust reared itself. He needed to stop dancing. Now. All this was doing was torturing him.
What am I thinking? That this will end well? Her date's on the way over, for god's sake.
The thought made him feel like he'd been kicked in the stomach all over again. He broke his hand free of hers and held her out with the other as she finished the last of her steps. She spun back towards him, the dress flowing in her wake.
"Thank you, captain." he said quietly, as their movement came to a halt. He released a staggered breath, trying to break free of the hold she had over him.
"Anytime." she replied. A strange sense of distress infiltrated her, and not for the first time did she think she that dating Mark had been a terrible mistake. "You...you dance very well."
"You too." he responded evenly. "And you've been in high spirits lately, April. It's good to see." He was surprised to learn that he meant it, even knowing that it was Mark behind her happiness.
She dropped her arms by her side, her smile faltering.
"I guess I am... but…do you want to know what the weird thing is-" she began.
A light rap on the door interrupted them.
"Hello?" a man's deep timbre came from the other side.
April turned to Donatello, whispering.
"It's them...I mean, it's-"
Donatello nodded understandingly before she could say Mark's name. Her head fell down in frustration.
"I'll be just a minute." she called towards the door.
She looked back up at Donatello, her breath leaving in quick bursts between her slightly parted lips. His eyes fell to them, hypnotized.
"What is it?" he asked her in a hushed voice.
"It's not what you think..." her voice wavered and she dropped her eyes. How could anything she say now hold any credence with him, with Mark at the door and her dressed as his date? She felt a rise of fear silence her. Donatello waited for her to finish but realizing nothing was coming forth, he spoke.
"I won't hold you up."
"You're not." she protested with a defiant glimmer in her eyes.
Mark continued to knock, the sharp raps setting her teeth on edge. April looked back to the door, the chain rattling with each of his bangs.
"Hello?… April?" he called out again.
"I'm just with a friend, Mark. I won't be long."
She winced as soon as she had said it and Donatello's mouth morphed into a straight line. Just a friend. He knew it was true, but it hurt to hear it so bluntly. She placed a hand on his arm, her fingers electrifying his skin.
"Sorry, I didn't mean it like that." she said, her eyes brimming with regret. How exactly did she mean it, she wondered.
"It's alright, April. Good luck with your night." He offered her an encouraging smile and stepped back from her and towards the window.
"Wait... I thought this what you wanted?" she whispered. He stopped short, turning back to look her in the eye.
What he wanted? What he wanted was to punch Mark in the face to get him to stop that incessant knocking. What he wanted was her. He wanted her so much it hurt. But what did it matter anymore? If she was happy, who was he to stop it?
"I…I want you to have a good night. And I know you will." Donatello's breathing had shallowed, conflicting emotions running through him like ice and fire. April held his gaze in an indecipherable hold until finally she looked away, color flushing her cheeks. He was hit with a reflexive hitch of anguish.
Mark knocked again. Donatello glanced over at the entrance in irritation, unable to maintain his silence.
"She said she'll be there in a moment." he called out firmly towards the door. The knocking ceased.
April eyes went from the door back to him, and she chuckled quietly.
"You know, I prefer being on this side of a locked door with you. Much more fun."
He gave a small smile. How long ago had it been now since he had been trapped in his lab by Michelangelo's practical joke? Months? It felt like years. He glanced over at her kitchen table, the irises long gone, his card still standing like a lone soldier.
My beautiful pain...more like never-ending. He thought dejectedly. April had started her life with someone else, and he was in no mind to prolong the torment.
"I really should go." he said levelly, his eyes locked on hers.
"Me too." she replied softly.
They both stood motionless, facing each other, neither wanting to move. Finally he broke the embargo, his foot moving back towards the window. April reached out and grabbed his arm. She leaned towards him and kissed him softly on the cheek, time seeming to slow in her lingering gesture. The tendrils of her hair tickled his skin, her bewitching scent causing his heart to pound like a drum. It was all he could do not to wrap his arms around her waist and pull her back. He watched breathlessly as she stepped away from him.
"I'll see you later, Donnie." she whispered, a sadness tingeing her voice. "Be safe out there."
Donatello nodded mutely, then ran and slipped out the exit before she had even reached her front door. His cheek still tingled where she had pressed her sweet, pink lips. He had forgotten why he had even gone there. He had been completely consumed by her.
…
It was late in the lair, and Leonardo lay awake in the silence. Every night this week he had been woken by Donatello crashing into the lab door in a sleep-walking state, and every morning when he slipped the key back under his door he could hear his brother asleep on the ground behind it.
Soon, he thought. It was almost as regular as clockwork.
As if on cue, he heard it - a large crash against the door of Donatello's room, then the sound of him slumping onto the floor. Leonardo frowned. Whatever Donatello had hoped this experiment would do wasn't working. Tomorrow he would need to let Splinter know what was happening and try something else. Maybe it was not what Donatello had wanted, but what had he intended on doing? Mashing himself to a pulp against the lab's steel reinforced door?
He rubbed his broad hands against his face, worried that his brother would never give ground and that he was destined to be plagued by his nightmares forever.
.
"Hmph."
Splinter's whiskers gave a subtle twitch as Donatello bowed his head before him, kneeling on the ground of his master's room. The space itself was clean and light, and the smell of burning incense lingered in the air. Having just confided the severity of his sleepwalking, Donatello waited tensely for his master's reply. His eyes remained glued to the ground and soon the tips of Splinters hind feet came into view.
"I had known of your condition but to learn that it is manifesting itself so strongly is of great concern. These things only serve to cloud the mind and affect your judgement in all things. It is a danger our family can little afford at this time."
"Yes, sensei." Donatello said quietly.
The woven straw of the tatami mats were pressing firmly into his shins, and he could feel them imprinting their pattern. The sharp pain was a welcome distraction to the low throb he had felt in his stomach since seeing April only several days before. Their little dance had caused his dreams to become powerfully virulent afterwards, and so real that in his dreams he had felt her warm blood on his arms as she slipped away in his hold. The anguish that it had caused had cast a shadow over him that he could not shake during the day, no matter what he tried distracting himself with, and for the first time the tools of lab sat silent. He walked around in limbo, too tired to stay awake, and too afraid to sleep. But before long, the week was up and true to his word Leonardo had directed him to Splinter, forcing him to reveal his nightmares to their master.
Splinter, sensing a hefty weight upon his shoulders, placed a hand gently on his son's head.
"Perhaps we can wield the stress in your waking life, so that you may attain a more harmonious sleep." he said aloud. He turned around and tapped his cane before him as he shuffled over to the mantelpiece where a framed picture of his master sat.
Splinter inhaled sharply, pondering his course of action. Donatello had only given a brief account of his recurring dreams, and was troubled by their nature. To witness the bloody death of their closest ally, night after night, would be an unspeakable torment. And to further complicate this issue, he was also intrinsically aware of how close his son was with April. But he also knew how much his son was fighting this path. Donatello's resistance against open communication with Miss O'Neil was having an erratic effect on him, to the point where his very nature was being twisted. He sighed heavily.
"I myself faced such troubles long ago when I was still quite young. To witness the violent passing of my beloved master brought me unsettling dreams for many years."
Splinter reached out and took the photo of his master in his hand, his fingers curling behind the frame. He peered at the smiling face of his master Yoshi, wrapped in ceremonial garb in the aging picture.
"It was a meditation technique designed to control pain that aided me in reducing the incidence and severity of such nightmares. Perhaps it will prove itself useful to you, too."
He placed the photo back down and turned around to face Donatello.
"Luckily, there was a cure in my case. Can you guess what that was, my son?"
Donatello shook his head in faint surprise, never knowing before that Splinter had suffered a similar affliction.
"Ah...no, sensei."
Splinter gave a fraction of a smile.
"There were four." Splinter said his eyes twinkling.
"Love is a more powerful weapon than fear could ever imagine. My master will always hold a place of the highest honor in my heart, but I will not let his loss let fear lead my hand into its shadow. I have already told you this, my son. And that you choose to remain there still, troubles me."
Donatello heart felt like it couldn't sink any lower.
"I would very much like to try this meditation, sensei."
"Very well." Splinter said in a clipped tone. "I know that you have entrusted Leonardo with the details of your dreams, and perhaps it would be best if he guided you through them. I will let him know."
"Thank you, sensei... I would do anything to stop these dreams."
"Really?" his master inquired with an edge of disbelief, "Is that so?"
Donatello braced himself for the onslaught of rhetoric questions and swallowed hard, a light sweat breaking out. He chanced a look at his master who gazed down upon him with an inscrutable look.
"Maybe I should have said I will do anything to control them, sensei?" he corrected himself.
Splinter snorted in bemusement.
"Yes. That is what you should have said." Splinter leaned forward onto his cane, "You may go, my son. This meditation would be best performed closer to your time of rest."
He stood, the blood pulsing back into his legs, "Thank you, sensei."
Donatello turned to make his way out but in his haste collided with Splinter, clipping him in the arm with his shell. Splinter reeled, stumbling several steps before throwing out his cane to break his fall.
"Sensei!" Donatello yelped frantically, reaching out for his arm, "Here let me-".
Splinter quickly regained his balance and waved him off.
"Enough." Splinter said gruffly, "I am fine."
Donatello shook his head incredulously.
"I am so sorry, sensei..." Donatello said again, his eyes wide open in shock, "I didn't see you there."
Splinter ignored him, brushing the creases out his robe with his furry claw.
"There is a simple way to avoid such thing, my son."
"Look where I'm going?" Donatello ventured with a weak smile.
Splinter dismissed the remark with a twitch of his nose.
"Not quite." he replied, "Walk where you are looking."
For a moment Donatello stared dumbfounded at his master. Finally he nodded in acceptance as a whisper of melancholy passed through him. He bowed his head, unable to look his master in the eye.
"Yes, sensei." he whispered.
He left the room, his mind burning up with his master's words. The thought of confiding his innermost desires to April echoed throughout his body painfully. His very soul thrashed against it, as the memory of April flooded his mind - her soft body in his arms, her dress like liquid gold, her tender kiss upon his cheek.
I cannot go that way, he thought despondently to himself. I cannot...
The sooner he could stop these dreams, the better. The dull aching pain he could live with, but to see the life drain from her eyes night after night was killing him. And if he could stop just that, it would be enough.
...
April glanced around from the post of the Maitre d'. The small Italian restaurant was tucked away on 49th, the outside inconspicuous to the passerby and the inside an esoteric balance of modern and antique furnishings. Large lampshades hung from the ceiling casting the room into an intimate yet casual ambiance and the walls stripped back to reveal some of the aged brick and woodwork. It was perfect. She spotted Mark sitting at a table near the front window and flashed him a smile.
"Please, come this way madam." the young host instructed. She smoothed down the front of her magenta colored dress and followed him to the table. Mark quickly rose to pull out her chair.
"Mark." April said smiling, "We meet again."
She pecked him on the cheek, and took a seat.
"I hope I didn't bore you too much last week at dinner, it was a wipeout in sales."
April raised her brows in a polite feign.
"No, not at all."
He nodded, pleased, and leaned back on his chair, slinging and elbow over the backrest.
"I had the urge to purge some of those KPI's, if you know what I'm saying. And I apologize in advance if I start talking shop again." he confessed with a grin.
"I'm glad we don't have deal with that over in research. How you deal with the constant stress is beyond me." she said.
"You'd be surprised how much I thrive under it. And I keep myself physically active as a bit of a release."
"I bet." she grinned, "This is a really beautiful restaurant you found here." April remarked, already trying to steer him off the course of work. She sat her purse beside her, and admired the fully set table, complete with salad forks and crisp white napkins. A small tea-light candle burned within a colored glass holder. "Have you been here before?"
"Uh, yeah. A few times." he said, glancing around the room.
"I bet the food is great."
"You won't be disappointed." he confirmed, "The linguini here is to die for."
April took the menu that the host had left, and began pilfering through the pages as her stomach grumbled quietly at prospect of eating.
"You're right. This does look good...I regret not being able to try one of everything."
Mark leaned across the table, lowering his voice.
"You looked stunning at the fundraiser last week. My only regret was not seeing you out of that dress."
April choked on a cough and darkened to a deep blush as a young waitress approached the table.
"Would you like to see the wine list?" she asked with a flirty smile, directing her attention towards Mark.
"Yes." April said quickly, "Actually, a gin and tonic on the rocks would be great."
"And you, sir?" the waitress purred, practically leaning over Mark.
Since they had began dating, April had been aware of this effect he had on women. It was little wonder too, she thought. Mark was a good-looking man with a fine physique. His dark hair and casual suit that he had donned for the restaurant were an effortlessly winning combination, and he had attracted the admiring glances of many women in the time she known him. A salesman with the quick tongue to match, he was never short of a witty remark or unabashed confidence. But all these things aside, she just couldn't shake the feeling that she was merely dining with a business associate. Finely honed and perfectly correct. But completely wrong.
Mark took the wine list from the young waitress.
"How about I order us a bottle as a chaser." he remarked jokingly at the waitress. He opened the list and quickly ordered a pinot grigio. As the giggling waitress left he glanced back at April.
"I hope you're hungry tonight." he said with a grin and a knowing wink.
She nodded, her eyes sparkling.
"Absolutely famished."
...
"Are you ready?" Leonardo asked his brother.
The room was dim and only the low flickering of the candle provided light. It danced between them throwing an eerie glow onto the walls.
Donatello nodded. He tensed and relaxed his legs and arms, preparing himself to hold his lotus position. Glancing around the confines of Leonardo's room, his eyes fell to the hanging scroll listing the virtues of the samurai. His eyes lingered on one kanji in particular. Courage. He looked away, feeling like he had already failed his brother.
"Do you think this will work, Leo?"
Leonardo shrugged.
"Master Splinter has guided me through this meditation many times. I find it useful for physical injuries, but for other things I couldn't say for certain. All I know is that if Splinter recommended it, I would put faith in his judgement."
"Okay then." Donatello said quietly."Let's do this."
Leonardo nodded in return, observing the defeated slump in his brother's posture. He would try his best to reach him, to break through his exterior, but could not help but think it would be a mighty battle.
"Alright, Donnie. Close your eyes and relax. "
Donatello shut his lids letting the darkness envelope him, as tendrils of aloeswood incense wafted around them. Already Donatello struggled to find stillness, and sensing his distress, Leonardo gently guided him back onto the path with his voice.
"Breathe in...then breath out. In for four...then out for four..."
Donatello dutifully followed, listening to his brother's voice like a beacon in the fog of darkness. His breaths slowly became even as he drew in air through his nose and exhaled through his mouth. Slowly the tightness in his body began to dissolve.
"...focus on your pain, find where it is, and then focus on where it is in your body..." Leonardo soothing voice instructed.
Donatello breathed deeply, searching for the place where it hurt inside. He could feel where it was almost straight away, the low dull pain that constantly thrummed in his heart. And the more he was aware it, the greater it hurt. It was as if it had a hole, slowly leaking anything that brought him joy, and replacing it with an aching emptiness.
"Allow the pain to be, passing through each moment from one to the next. Focus on only the now..."
As Leonardo continued his guidance, his voice became a murmur and a new reality began to unravel.
Inside his mind Donatello felt adrift on his pain, clinging to a broken raft in the darkness as a lone star shone done onto the sea surrounding him. The air was still, and he faced the starlight, it's gentle glow lighting the peaks of the endless ocean around him. The waves rocked him gently. He looked around, desperately seeking a direction or feature in this place. But there was only him and the star above. The water lapped at his limbs, it was warm and inviting, and the urge to slip beneath and disappear compelled him.
"...allow light to enter the pain, let the light cool everything it touches..." Leonardo's voice echoed distantly. The rest of his words became lost, a whisper in the darkness.
Alone on the raft, Donatello concentrated his mind, willing for the cool light, and suddenly a cold wind began to stir. Clouds gathered quickly in the sky as the water became choppy, tossing him around like a leaf on the sea's heaving surface. Rolls of thunder rumbled in the clouds, the temperature dropping rapidly around him until it reached an arctic chill. Donatello gasped, as the waves sprayed onto him, biting him with icy salty teeth, before crashing back down into sea. The star above shone down through the clouds. It's glow began to become brighter, lighting up the world around him like a sun as the ocean turned to ice, first becoming slushy and choppy, before freezing into a flat white plain. He sat unmoving on the raft, the pain inside contained behind a wall of ice. He looked around at the change, the ocean now a solid glacier as far as could see, the star now a sun, it's cold white light illuminating the place into a painful brightness. Then he heard her:
Don... her voice echoed throughout this world.
Donatello jumped off the raft, placing his feet onto the ice beneath. He went searching for the voice, wandering in the white, as snow began to fall like soft petals from the heavens.
Don... she called again.
He ran, trying to find her, but realized her voice was everywhere. He stopped and spun around and there she was, far in the distance, a ghostly white image of her obscured by the falling snow.
He ran towards her, but no matter how fast he moved, he couldn't get closer. His galloping slowed to a stumble until finally he collapsed onto his knees in the ice.
I can't reach you, April... he buried his face in his hands in defeat as a ripple of pain coursed through him.
"...and breathe in...and breathe out. Let the pain inside lessen with each breath. In...and out..."
He looked back up and saw her standing before him, dressed in white, her eyes blank as her hair streamed out behind her. He reached a hand for her and she held it tenderly, neither letting go. He blinked again and she was gone, and he alone in the cold as the snow gently fell on him.
April...
Leonardo's voice broke through the icy cold, resonating throughout the world.
"...and when you are ready, open your eyes."
The world turned to black in a heartbeat.
Still sitting on the floor with his eyes shut, his warm tears began to flow like a stream, running down the cheeks of his motionless body. He felt his brother reach out and grasp his shoulder in comfort, but the tears would not stop falling.
...
April and Mark walked arm in arm along the bustling evening streets until they stopped by her apartment. People still in work attire streamed by briskly as they stepped towards the entrance of her complex. She glanced up to her window, wondering if Donatello had dropped by.
"Well, this is me." she said quietly, "I'd invite you up but... it may be better next time? I think the place is a mess."
Mark offered her a seductive smile, his eyes hazy with desire.
"And here I thought you wanted a nightcap."
April stood up onto the first step of the stoop and swiveled back to face him, hugging her arms by her side in the chilly night air.
"Listen Mark, I need tell you something-"
April's words were cut short as Mark thrust himself towards her, laying his lips on hers. April closed her eyes reflexively and felt nothing but his wet kiss. Sensing that she wasn't responsive Mark extracted himself from her.
"April." he said thickly, "Let me come up with you..."
He tried again, this time clasping his hand around her head and nuzzling behind her ear.
April inhaled sharply. Her hands went out and grabbed Marks wrists, trying to stop him but craving the passionate embrace. It felt so good and it had been so long...and as much as she wanted to defy his touch, she allowed it to happen.
"Don..." she breathed. Her eyes flung open at her slip...
Mark brought his head back to look her, a look of quiet shock on his face.
"So, I guess that's what's been stopping us." he deduced quickly. He dropped his hands from her, blinking with a cold understanding.
April's jaw had dropped into a silent nought, "Mark, I'm so sorry...I was trying to tell you..."
He let out a snort of distaste.
"Someone you're seeing?"
April bit her lip guiltily and shook her head.
"No."
"An ex?" he ventured curiously.
"No." she whispered.
Mark stepped away from her, his face contorting into frustrated acceptance.
"He's a lucky man."
A man...yes, he was in many ways, she mused. Kind. Responsible. Intelligent. April dropped her eyes, her cheeks burning, as the thought of Donatello sent a shiver of longing through her.
"No." she said quietly. "I'm the lucky one."
She looked back up at Mark and he nodded jerkily. He took a another step backwards onto the footpath and flung his hands out.
"What are you doing with me, then? You like torturing yourself?"
A well of shame rose up in her. The last thing she had wanted to do was hurt Mark or think she was using him. Her dress flapped in the flow of the street's wind funnel, and she braced herself against the wind as she tried to explain the mess she created.
"It's...a little complicated." she said sheepishly, "I genuinely like you, Mark. And I thought if there was anyone that would make me see different, it would be you. But I realize now that it's not that simple."
"As a matter of fact, it really is. Life's too short to play games, April. If you see something you want, you go after it. That's what I'm doing here. Sales 101, Always Be Closing."
He breathed in and let out a deep exhale. Mark turned his head towards the busy world around them, the cars buzzing by, and the thousands of trenches flapping around the tired legs of workers at the end of the long day. He honed his attention back in on April.
"Forget it. It's okay. We never signed on any dotted lines or proclaimed anything serious. But I meant what I said about that dress. And if things don't work out with this guy, well, you know where I work."
He pulled out a packet of menthols from the inner pocket of his jacket and lit up. The spark blazed furiously as he sucked down hard. He held it in his lungs, letting the nicotine relax him, before releasing a stream of white smoke from his mouth. He held the packet towards her, and she held her hand up in polite refusal.
"Good." he said, slipping them back into his pocket, "It's a disgusting habit."
April returned him a small grateful smile, "You're a good man, Mark."
"Not that good." he added with an air of mystery, "See you at work, April." the cigarette dangled in his mouth as he held his fingers to his head and offered her a scouts salute.
"Bright and early Monday morning, Mr Cardoso." she answered.
She watched as he turned on his heel and dissolved into the hordes walking away. Eventually she began slowly stepping up to the front entrance of her building, fishing for the keys in her purse. She paused mid-step, the memory of what she had said in the throes of Mark's kisses burning bright in her mind.
Oh my god, what just happened?
…
The days passed by in a rush.
Donatello sat alone and stoked the campfire as the remaining stump began to burn bright and crackle. The light and heat flickered up towards him in the late hour, warming him in the cold night. The air was clean, the forest dark and lively, the cold stars were scattered above at a heavenly height - it was indeed a trip back to nature, one that afforded him the time to mentally unwind, to think, to give him space...
He picked up at thin branch and began tracing random shapes in the earth. April, Splinter and his brothers had made the trip upstate to camp two days ago. It was an inspired idea by April, keen to leave the congestion of the city, and one they had all instantly agreed on - a rarity in itself. It was a suggestion that had been borne, he supposed, by the fact that Casey was no longer around to take them to the farmhouse. So instead they had packed up their gear and gone renegade, taking an isolated and overgrown dirt track of a state park to the middle of nowhere to set up camp.
The last few days had been an exhilarating adventure - hiking along animal trails until their legs ached, swimming in the cool streams, and Michelangelo taking photos of every creature and plant he encountered. Much to his happiness, April and he had settled into a relaxed affability. She had spent a lot of her time sketching the surroundings but occasionally they would find moments alone, walking side by side through the woods, their conversation riding wildly along until she was in stitches from laughing. They were amongst his favorite memories.
It felt good to be amongst the trees again, and he could tell it had reinvigorated them all. Even their appetites seemed replenished out here as they devoured beans by the can full and eggs by the dozen to refuel the energy spent on all their activities. Today had been no exception, and the others had long since retired to their tents, leaving him the sole guardian of the fire, a task he took to with comfort.
As the evening cooled he had changed into some clothes - a pair of dark denim pants and a light gray sweater that slipped over his shell. He had yanked on a beanie and his feet were kept warm in boots that he hadn't quite broken in. He wriggled his toes in them, trying to get used to the alien feel of their enclosure. At least he wouldn't be walking in his sleep in them, he thought, because somehow the guided meditation had worked. He had cried like a child after his first session, unable to stop his silent tears falling as some of the pain he carried inside was released. That night he discovered that his recurring nightmare had finally ended, and all he had left inside was what he had to begin with - a longing in his heart that constantly called for her, something that he could drown out if he tried hard enough. And he could live with that.
He was lost in thought when he heard footsteps close in behind him.
"You couldn't sleep either, hey?" April said quietly. She made her way to the log he was sitting on, and squatted down next to him, wrapped in a blanket. She held her hands to the fire, toasting them gently in the warmth.
"It's too quiet." He said.
"Mm." she agreed, inhaling the cool air. "Can't drown out all the noise in your head?"
He chuckled softly, "Something like that."
They sat in silence a moment, absorbing the night atmosphere, a lone cricket chirping nearby. April looked up into skies above, fascinated by the spectacle of the millions upon millions of twinkling jewels. Her eyes scanned the expanse, looking for familiar formations.
"I can't believe all the stars out here. Sometimes I forget they even exist in the city." Her eyes wandered to the north, "That's the big dipper, right?"
He followed her gaze into the sky above to the saucepan shaped arrangement of stars.
"That'd be it." he nodded.
"I don't think I've ever really noticed it since I was a kid. Not even out at Casey's farm." she mused.
Donatello had noticed. He'd even taken out a telescope out there years ago, spending many a summer's evening gazing longingly at the stars, trying to map their names and places in this head. The crick in his neck he got that year was the one impending memory of that visit, or more specifically, how April sat him down on their last day there so she could knead it out.
"That's where I learned a majority of them. Out on the farm." he said looking upwards, the constellations appearing as familiar faces to him.
"God...you must miss that place. I still feel so guilty about what happened with Casey leaving. I know the farmhouse was one of the few places you called home. And now..." she left the thought hanging as pang of remorse struck her.
Donatello glanced back at her.
"It wouldn't be the same without you, anyway."
April snickered, "I really burnt my bridges there, didn't I?"
Donatello scratched a circle into the dirt, then a smaller one inside of it.
"What Casey chooses to do is out of your control. Besides. Home is where the heart is, and everyone that matters to me is right here in New York." he said, offering her a consoling smile.
April reached out and squeezed his forearm, then slipped her hand back under her blanket.
"Donnie, you always know what to say. Even when I don't deserve it." she took a deep breath and looked back up into the sky. "What's your favorite constellation up there, anyway?"
He smiled, back in familiar territory, "Are you sure you want to hear this?"
"Go ahead. I like your stories."
"I don't want to bore you."
"You know what's boring? You not telling me." she said, lightly clocking his shoe with her own. She glanced back at him with a gentle smile.
"Okay, but don't say you weren't warned."
April leaned on one hand expectantly, her eyebrows raised as she waited for him.
"I've always liked that one there." Using the stick he pointed overhead to where it was in the sky, outlining the shape of the outstretched wings of a bird, "The story is that there were two friends who would compete over everything, until one day, one of the friends - Phaethon- fell to his death during a chariot race across the skies. The surviving friend was devastated but the gods took pity on him, transforming him into a swan so that he could retrieve the remains of Phaethon from deep within a river. The love he had shown for his friend was honored with the constellation you see there. Cygnus. The swan."
April looked into the sky at the pinpricks of light that formed the swan, the magic of the tale coming alive and bringing a bittersweet sadness into her heart.
"Kind of makes you feel small, like nothing really matters. Except love, maybe." she said quietly.
Donatello glanced over at her, her cheeks pink in the cold. It was all he could do not to hold her right there, to take her in his arms and say that she mattered more to him than all the stars ever could. He swallowed hard, pushing the longing aside.
"I wonder the same, sometimes." He said simply.
"Sorry, I must sound morbid." She said with a grin, "I'm not. These last few days have been really nice."
Donatello stopped scratching the ground with the stick, and threw it into the fire. It flared up within moments and settled into a low burn.
"I have to confess, I thought you might have come up here with Mark."
She made a small soundless chortle and stared deep into the fire's heart.
"Mark? We...we're not dating anymore. Something happened and...well, we decided it was best if we just stayed friends."
Donatello looked over at her with growing concern, "Did he hurt you?"
"No! No, no. It was nothing like that. We went out a few times but that's it. It was - it just wasn't... right." She said, struggling to find the right way to describe their brief time together.
A small flush graced her cheeks as she remembered what had happened on the stoop of her apartment block. On the surface he seemed perfect, but in reality all she could think of was who he wasn't.
"He kept trying to ask me what I liked to do in my spare time." April explained, "and what I wanted to say was - spend time with you...I mean, all of you." she added quickly. She shook her head, that didn't sound quite right either, "I mean...Splinter, your brothers and you."
"What did you end up saying?" he asked curiously.
"That I liked to knit." she said with a grin, "Can you see it?"
Donatello scoffed, and took off his beanie littered with holes from her dropped stitches. He placed it back on his head and patted it down.
"I can't believe you're wearing that, I was still learning when I made it." she said grinning as she reached out and tugged the beanie even on her side.
"Hey, it works."
She wrapped the blanket tighter around herself and brought her heels up under the curve of the log.
"Well, Mark and I went out one more time after that fundraiser, and that was it." she shook her head, sighing, "I was confused and I thought I knew what I was doing. But looking back now - I don't know what I was thinking. I just keep making the same mistakes trying to fool myself I'm not-"
She stopped herself short, and looked back at him. A tremor of alarm passed through her at what she almost let slip.
"I'm sorry, Don. The last thing you probably want is to be regaled with my problems."
Donatello couldn't disagree more, he was elated, suddenly ten tons lighter at her revelation. But he couldn't understand why she had seemed so happy since she and Mark had started dating. Was it him? Had Michelangelo and Raphael been right?
"I recall Splinter once mentioning something about learning from your mistakes." He teased gently.
April watched the as the log smouldered in the fire.
"Well, consider me schooled. I'm swearing off dating for a while." she vowed with quiet determination.
And there's your answer - wishful thinking, he chided himself. He said nothing, staring into the fire. The flames danced in front of his eyes in a beautiful liquid-like entanglement that he found himself envying. An owl hooted off in the distance, and they both tilted their heads towards the noise.
"You know, I'd turn into a swan for you." she said with a hint of mirth.
Donatello turned to face her, looking her square in the eye.
"Really?" he asked as the corner of his mouth tugged up into a skeptical grin.
"Sure. Why not? I'd get a constellation, right?" she replied.
He chuckled quietly.
"I can't argue with that logic." He said with a smile. "Well, just so you know, I'd be a swan for you, too. But maybe without the whole dying part."
"Hm, that would be problematic." she agreed half-seriously, as she tapped a finger on her chin.
Donatello peered up into the heavens above.
"Well, what about this instead – see those two stars there? That can be the 'Campfire Constellation' where you and I just sit around talking about becoming swans."
She gazed up at the two bright stars in the sky.
"I like it. We can be arguing forever over who gets the most real estate in the sky."
"It would be you, of course. Why bother arguing for all eternity?" He looked back at her, his eyes sparkling in merriment.
April collected him lightly with her shoulder.
"Or we could, you know, just be up there shooting the breeze? Maybe telling the stories of all the other stars?" she said, grinning.
He nodded slowly, "Or there's that."
April's gaze fell back to the sky. She looked across the vast distance, wondering how the thoughts of just one person could make her could fill every nook of the heavens. Was he just always there; or had he flourished when she wasn't watching?
"Do you ever wonder if those two stars are looking up at us and thinking the same thing?" she asked with a sigh.
"Do I wonder if two mindless celestial entities peer up into the fathoms of space to see two beings sitting on the watery planet of a distant star, wondering if we are thinking of them?" he asked levelly, "All the time."
April clasped her hands across her mouth, smothering her laughter. Her head fell between her knees, as the giggles petered out.
"You are such an ass." she said between giggles.
"I try. For you, captain." he said with a hint of deviousness.
"Hm." she muttered, "I will make you walk the plank one of these days."
"Then I'm taking you with me." he said, his face suddenly serious.
April's heart flew into a flurry of patters. She breathed in slowly, trying to calm the spike of emotions.
"I'd like to see you try, Don. I know your weakness, you know." she whispered with a grin. Donatello dropped his head and gave her a small smile.
"And what do you think my weakness is, Miss O'Neil?" He said, realizing he had just answered his own question.
April's eyes flickered up and down his body.
"Boring action movies. Spanners with the wrong sized nut. Washing the dishes after Mikey cooks...and possibly kryptonite." she said grinning.
Donatello shook his head in surrender. She was fast.
"Okay. You win." Donatello chuckled.
The minutes passed by in silence as they sat quietly together. April rested her head on her knees and closed her eyes, basking in the warmth of the fire. Donatello reached over and placed another log into the hearth and watched as embers sparked up into the sky and drifted up into oblivion.
Everything seemed so perfect right now - the stars, April, the small fire keeping them warm... perhaps he should just say it, just be honest with her. Could he dare take the risk? His heart pounded.
"April?"
"Mmm?" She replied sleepily.
He panicked, realizing she must have dozed off. Donatello held on tightly to his confession, the wave of bravery receding back inside of him.
"Nothing." he whispered.
"Mm hm." Her eyes remained closed but she slumped towards him, leaning into his side. He remained still for her as she slept, her unmoving mountain.
...