**Author's Note**
Support! Thank you all so much! I couldn't have gotten this far without you! I'm also thinking about ending it earlier than expected. Simply because after this job interview (cross fingers) I'll finally have another job and would no longer have the time to write a chapter a day.
Life is like a bicycle: Yeah, just needed a cliffhanger. I'll be skipping this particular fighting scene, with just the results of the aftermath. I think the chapter after this will be the last.
AMMO121: You're quite welcome! A SAINW feel, huh…? I feel so proud! I do try.
Moonrisk: Yes, we know Don's noble and smart. And he's going to be doing even more noble deeds in the near future.
And now, enjoy!
**Author's Note**
"Really, guys, this is nothing compared to the kind of scraps Raph or Mikey get into!" Donatello protests as he flinches away in pain, as Leo does his best to set his arms. "That was incredibly reckless, Donatello! You could have died, performing that stunt!" Don glares at his oldest brother.
"It was either stop that demon's jaws with my Bo, or lose Mikey! I'd rather have lost my arms!" Michelangelo sobs quietly as Raph sets the casts on both of the olive-skinned turtle's arms. He sighs, ignoring the fluttering in his chest.
"Still, Don, dere coulda been anutha way! I thought dat ting ate ya! We all did!" Chocolate eyes roll. "But I'm fine! We're all safe! I just can't do anything with my arms for six weeks!" His emerald-skinned brother growls, "Yeah? An' wat don' ya do wit' yer hands, eh, Don?" The usually gentle terrapin puffs out his chest.
"I can do many things. I can type, make coffee, even fix the water heater. I can do every daily need as well." All three of his brothers stare at him in disbelief. "Oh really? How?" Donatello smirks. "Mikey's not the only one that's flexible. Why do you think I take care of my feet just as well as my hands?" Jaws drop. Cheeks flush. Eyes shine. And Mikey's the one who asks the inappropriate question.
"Even masteurbate?" Donatello blinks, caught off guard. "Mikey!" "Michelangelo! That's not the question to-"
"Actually, yes."
Silence permeates the sick bay. He's actually quite thankful that Master Splinter is in bed, else this would be a very awkward conversation. "Really?" His eyes widen at Leonardo, whose eyes are suddenly predatorial. "Er, well, yes." A growl reaches his ears, and he has to stop his heart from throwing itself out of his body. His brothers' pheromones are into complete overdrive.
"Um, guys? Can you all back off? You stink." Immediately, his brothers back off, mumbling apologies. He sighs as his now casted hands rest on his carapace. Oh dear. It seems that his brothers are either seriously hyped up on adrenaline, or a mating season of sorts is about to begin for them. Neither is good for Donatello and his six weeks of boredom.
And six weeks of boredom it was not. Almost every morning, Donatello would wake up to Michelangelo practically humping him. After roundhouse kicking his brother out of his room, he'd go take a quick shower, mindful that he doesn't get his casts wet. He exits the shower, only half dry (he still needs to work on moving fabric with his toes) and heads to the kitchen, avoiding the intense stares and seriously inappropriate innuendos Leo was tossing at him as he makes and drinks his morning coffee. And then- since he's not allowed to train alongside his brothers- he has to pointedly ignore Raphael and his sudden lack of personal space (though he secretly loves the attention he's getting from the golden-eyed turtle, but said turtle's taken.)
And after six whole weeks of this, he can safely say that he is one sexually frustrated turtle. Not a moment of peace, and a whole lot of yummy Raphie wanting to jump his shell. Needless to say, his patience, and loyalty, were seriously tested. He had to keep reminding Raph that he was with Leo, whilst at the same time reminding himself of the same thing. It was honestly pure hell. And he was seriously grateful when the casts finally came off.
"How do you feel, Donatello?" "Fine, Sensei." The old rat gives his brightest son a look. Don sighs softly. "It feels wonderful to move my arms again. But now I'm thrust with a problem I don't know how to solve… it's also quite embarrassing." Splinter motions for him to continue, "I will stop you when I am uncomfortable, my son." Inhaling slowly, he nods. "During the past six weeks of my rehabilitation, my brothers have suddenly found me… attractive." Brown, wise eyes widen slightly. "I see. And how did you come to this?"
"Simple. Their bodies and advances have told me they want me as a potential bed partner." Master Splinter slowly strokes his whiskers. "And… what have you done with these advances?" "I gently rejected, Master Splinter." "Even Raphael?"
The chocolate eyed turtle blinks. "Well, yes." "Even though your love for him hasn't diminished even in the slightest over the years?" his jaw drops. "How do you…?" "Donatello, I am your father. Even if you don't feel the pain of your heart breaking daily anymore, I can still see it on your face, still hear it shatter every time your brothers show affection. Now, I can safely say that you have gained emotional and mental strength in whereas your brothers, not even Leonardo, could not. And though I wish you would let me intervene and let me help you in finding happiness, my son, for I hate to see you in pain, I am proud of you for being so selfless."
"Thank you… father." And with that, he bows in respect, and seals himself in his lab, ready for a good cry.