Author's Notes: Donnie and Master Splinter have a little talk...

The Talk

I stare at the tarnished and scraped metal of the turn-style. It's the last barrier between myself and the lair and I'm in no rush to cross it. I'm in trouble. I know I'm in trouble. I can feel the impending punishment in the air like a heavy cloud of smog waiting to choke me. Sensei had said I was not allowed to go over to April's without Mr. O'Neil's permission and I certainly wasn't allowed to spend the night. He had been very clear about that. There was no room for argument. I couldn't pretend that I didn't know the rules. I did exactly what he told me not to and I was about to pay the price.

He's going to be so mad. Mr. O'Neil probably already called him. They're going to try to keep the two of you apart. They don't approve. They know you're not good enough for her.

A small whimper escapes my throat and I clutch at the front of my sweatshirt, trying to find the leather strap underneath. The clawing, unrelenting pinch of anxiety flares to life somewhere deep in my chest and spreads in an instant until my limbs burn with the flush of it and my thoughts are nothing but crippling. I reach for my wrist, stopping halfway there with a flash of shame that almost stops the panic head-on.

Go ahead, hurt yourself. Freak. Let everyone see how weak you are.

I ball my hands into fists and hold them resolutely at my sides. I close my eyes and take in a slow breath through my nose, holding it for a few seconds before letting it out with a careful, measured exhale. When I open my eyes I turn my focus onto what I can see; the scratched metal of the turn-style, the rough bricks beneath my feet, the warm glow in the distance inside the lair. I curl my toes inside my boots and take another slow breath. It doesn't stop the pinch in my chest or silence the constant stream of bad thoughts, but it lessens them enough that I can unfurl my fingers without fear of hurting myself.

"Donnie?"

Raph is on me before I can reply. He moves surprisingly fast for someone still healing and I'm about to chastise him about pushing too fast too soon, but his arms are around me and I'm pulled into a hug that makes my ribs creak. I can't move, his arms pin mine at my sides. I squirm and try to break free of the embrace. He pushes me back and I don't have time to block the punch he aims at my shoulder.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" he demands. "You can't call? We thought…you can't let us know you're all right?"

They thought something horrible happened to you. You're selfish. You deserve whatever punishment Sensei has waiting for you.

"I…I didn't…I'm sorry. I fell asleep, it was an accident. I didn't mean to. I'm sorry," I say in a rush of panic, any calm I managed to cultivate leaving my body in a painful, anxious wave.

Raph pulls me into another bone-crushing hug and I dip my chin to rest on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry," I murmur repeatedly, clinging to him with more desperation than I would like.

"It's all right," he says quietly. "It's all right, you're all right. Just don't scare us like that again, understood?"

I nod and look down at my feet ashamed when he finally releases me. He takes a step back and squares his shoulders as though he suddenly remembered he was supposed to be macho. I would laugh and roll my eyes if I wasn't so preoccupied with trying to keep from crawling out of my own skin. He clears his throat and rubs the back of his head.

"Uh, Sensei is waiting for you in the dojo," he says, sounding as though he hates being the barer of this particular bad news.

I flinch and feel all of my muscles tense at once. "How…how mad is he?" I ask, afraid that if I raise my voice above a whisper our father might overhear.

Raph looks over his shoulder towards the dojo and then shrugs. "I dunno," he says with a sigh. "I mean, he ain't happy. He was talkin' to April's Dad on the cheese phone for like a half an hour."

I flinch again and another whimper breaks through my ever crumbling reserve.

"Did you…I mean, he walked in on you guys? In bed?" he asks and there's a smirk that says all of his dirty thoughts without having to speak them out loud.

"What? No!" I hiss, my face burning with a blush that might as well be an admission of my guilt. "I mean, well, technically, yes we were in bed, but we were just sleeping and…and shut up," I growl, punching him in the chest when he breaks out into a fit of cackles.

"Oh my God," he says, giggling like an idiot. "Was April naked?"

"No, and don't…I'm not going to, don't talk about her. You don't even…we were just sleeping!" I stammer, quickly losing control over the situation and my grasp on the English language.

He's laughing too hard to tease me any further at least coherently. I'm glad his need to make fun of me trumped his concern over my wellbeing.

"Jerk," I grumble, pushing past him.

Whatever Master Splinter has planned can't be more humiliating than this.

The short walk to the dojo is long enough for me to rethink that notion. I linger outside the door, my hand instinctively moving to grip the front of my sweatshirt. He's inside, waiting for me. Candlelight, warm and flickering moves across the intricate patterns of the rugs covering the floor. I'm sure he's meditating. It would be rude to interrupt. Maybe I should come back later. It would be the considerate thing to do.

"Donatello."

I flinch and cover my mouth before a surprised squeak escapes.

"Come in," he adds when I remain silent and still as a statue.

I close my eyes and take in a deep breath through my nose. I have no reason to be afraid. Sensei would never hurt me. I reach out into that deep, dark place where scents and memory collide and let out my breath when I find the sweet tang of wildflowers. April. I open my eyes and set my mouth in a determined line. No matter what Sensei has to say he can't take her away from me. He can't change what we have. I'll take my punishment as it comes, because at the end of the day I'll still have her. I shuffle forward into the dojo, keeping my gaze lowered in respect.

"Sensei," I say, kneeling before him and lowering forward onto the mat.

I sit up after a few long, horrible moments of silence. Master Splinter is sitting with his hands resting atop his legs, surrounded by tall, pillar candles and incense. His nose twitches and I'm not surprised when I hear the low, disappointed noise deep in his throat. My courage is rapidly faltering under his stern gaze. He does not look happy. I know speaking before I'm spoken to will only make things worse, so I stay as still as I'm able in the uncomfortable position.

"I spoke with Mr. O'Neil," he says evenly, smoothing out a wrinkle in his robe.

I swallow when he lets the statement hang in the air. "Oh?" I mumble, regretting it when Sensei makes another throat noise.

"I thought I was quite clear, Donatello," he says, taking in a deep breath. "You were not to go to the O'Neil residence without Kirby's knowledge."

I bite my bottom lip and nod in reply.

"And you were most certainly not to spend the night. You have not only shown great disrespect towards Mr. O'Neil and myself, but you dishonor April with your actions."

Something primal and sharp snaps inside my chest and my quick anger gets the best of my common sense.

"I know I shouldn't have spent the night. I didn't mean to fall asleep, it was an accident and I'm sorry to go against your wishes, Sensei, but I did not show April any dishonor. I would never…"

"I am not finished," Master Splinter says and his sharp tone stops me from digging my hole any deeper.

He takes in another slow breath, his fingers curling in before stretching out in time with his exhale. "I know how deeply you care for Miss O'Neil," he says, his voice softening considerably. "I understand how love can consume, especially young love."

Oh. Oh no.

"You may feel as though…as though you must show that love in…"

"We don't have to talk about this," I say, interrupting him with a frantic voice that cracks on the last syllable. "I…I know about…that…we don't have to talk about it."

He lifts one eyebrow and slowly tilts his head to the side. "Oh?" he replies in that tone he saves for when he thinks he knows better. "And what is it you know, exactly?"

Run. Throw a smoke bomb in his face and run. You might be able to get away. Of course you won't. He'll catch you.

"I…well, umm, I know…that. I mean, technically…that…stuff," I stammer and trip over every word, certain that my face must be on fire with how hot the blush burns across my skin.

"Hmm," he replies with a nod and a thoughtful pull on his beard. "What I know, Donatello is that if you cannot even say the word then perhaps you are not ready for the physical act itself."

If there is a hell this is it.

I lower my gaze and stare at the deep scar along my wrist. "I…we…hai, Sensei," I murmur, thinking that agreeing with him will be the quickest way to end this horrible conversation.

"I know you love her, my son," he says quietly. "I see how you look at her. It is the same way I once looked at my beloved Tang Shen, but love is a fragile thing. It needs to be tended with a gentle hand. There is no need to rush these things. You are both so young and our lives are difficult enough without added complications."

He thinks you're moving too fast. That you're pressuring her into things.

"She loves me too," I say, the words barely audible even in the quiet of the dojo. "She said it," I add, lifting my head to meet his gaze. "She said it first. She wouldn't say it if she didn't mean it."

I feel my heart tighten in my chest while I wait with bated breath for him to respond. I need him to believe him. I need him to believe in us. For all my bluster and pride I care what he thinks. He's my father and I want his approval. If he thinks I'm undeserving of love, of her love, what hope can there be for the rest of the world? What hope can there be for us if my own father believes we are doomed to failure?

"I know she does, my son," he says, his hand reaching out to cover my own. "I see that as well."