Genesis

Turtlecest, raphxdon – Because everything has to start somewhere…

Disclaimer: If I owned the turtles, it wouldn't be a kiddie show.

Warnings: turtlecest, yaoi, turtle on turtle action, slash, mature: are you sure you are in the right place? Be weary or your brain might implode.

Chapter 12 – Purple, Outside Perspective


Donatello knew he was setting himself up for heartache. On the other side of that door, Leonardo was railing Raphael hardcore about what happened, he just knew it. And his turn would be next. Not that he did not deserve it. There was a certain romance to both Raphael and him facing the Inquisitor, stating their cases and trying not to lose their heads in the process. But what would he say? And how was Leonardo taking Raphael's side of the story?

He paced up and down the living room, nervous of the verdict and pending his own trial. Donatello did not know how much time passed since Raphael first went in there; he had no idea how long he waited. Eventually, he settled for a less than comfortable lean on one of their old couches and kept a vigil eye on the dojo door.

And the door crashed open sometime later, causing him to flail his arms as if the very pressure from the door swing was going to knock him over onto the couch. He kept his balance, and had the mood been lighter, it would have been very embarrassing. Today, no one cared.

Raphael hastily made his way towards the staircase, determined to lock himself back in his bedroom. And for the moment, Donatello found the courage to intervene. He stepped into the ninja's path, but Raphael failed to even notice, it would seem. No eye contact. No consideration what so ever. Raphael blasted past Donatello and the genius's heart dropped into his stomach. He slowly turned to watch Raphael climb the staircase and then slam the door to his own bedroom.

What had he expected to happen? Donatello did not know. But that was not it. Raphael's frigid behavior that afternoon was stabbing Donatello in places he never knew could hurt. But logic was there to comfort him, this go around. What alternative was there, really? Raphael was not going to simply lift him in the air and kiss him after a few twirls, like the ending to a cheesy movie. This was their life. And a relationship was not possible.

Donatello had long since determined Leonardo's knowledge of the situation. But how did the leader even find out? Raphael would not even talk to Donatello about it, so why would he blurt it to Leonardo? And Donatello most certainly had not realized it even in time to inform his eldest brother. The frustrated turtle stared at the closed door for a few more seconds. Leonardo must have used a secret ninja psychic meditation. That was the only way. The guy was so creepy sometimes.

Gentle footsteps brought him back to reality and he turned to see Leonardo leaving the dojo, in much less of a hurry than Raphael. Donatello's heart sunk further, as if there was any space left for it. He had no idea what to say. What he was expected to say.

"Hi, Don." Leonardo evenly said. The elder calmly walked by without a second glance.

Donatello did not notice anything out of the ordinary about the turtle. No wicked looks or nervous twitches. Leonardo was just like Leonardo as if everything was going according to plan. Donatello just stood there, limbs loose to his side, completely surprised by the nothing that was happening.

Then, Leonardo stopped a few feet from the kitchen and turned his body half way around so that he could see Donatello once more. Donatello stared, waiting for his tongue lashing. He almost craved it. "How are you feeling today, Don?" Leonardo casually said. "I decided to let you sleep in since you never miss practice."

Donatello just gawked at the leader, unable to hide anything. His eyes were wide as if they were going to fall and splatter all over the concrete floor. His throat felt dry, and only made a slight sound as he tried to say something. He could not force his mind to cooperate as if everything was just okay, like Leonardo somehow managed.

"I see I made the right decision." Leonardo smiled at his younger brother. "But don't get used to it. If I go easy on you, Michelangelo's going to try to get away with missing an entire week."

Casual conversation. Absolutely mind blowing. Donatello had to get a grip on himself. Donatello slowly nodded his understanding to Leonardo, still unable to fully control his outward shock of what was happening.

"Are you going to make practice tomorrow?" Leonardo peacefully questioned.

Donatello nodded.

"Good." Leonardo placed his hands together in front of him in approval. "Have you had anything to eat today?" Leonardo pointed over his shoulder to the kitchen with his thumb. "I was just about to prepare father's tea, if you would like me to make you a late lunch."

Donatello shook his head slowly. Leonardo's kindness was going to kill him.

"If you do not eat anything, you know I will have to tell Mikey. And he isn't going to let you get any work done." Leonardo sounded so normal. Not like a monster trying to ruin his light or condemn him out of the lair. He sounded like his older brother, just trying to take care of everyone.

Donatello offered a half smile back, finally, after more than a few seconds of delay. "I will grab something later." He lied.

And Leonardo accepted his lie. The turtle simply nodded his head in return and continued his trek into the kitchen. No dirty glances or inquiring stares.

Donatello looked down at the floor, analyzing his situation. Leonardo was his typical self. And that was the problem. Leonardo and Raphael were just in a fight. Right? Leonardo was never normal after that. Or anything resembling content.

Donatello took a few steps into the living room, purposely escaping the areas Leonardo could see him from the kitchen. He looked up to the second floor, where three bedroom doors lined the wall. Raphael's door caught his attention specifically.

Donatello wanted to casually walk up the stairs and knock on his brother's door, a move that, just two days ago, would have been completely acceptable. But he had nothing to say, or at least, things that by no means needed to be said. For the moment, silence was best.

A loud, obnoxious music started pouring into the house, from that very room. Raphael definitely wanted to be left alone. He could only assume the music was so loud that Raphael hoped it would keep him from being able to hear his own thoughts. Donatello, for a moment, thought it would be an interesting theory to test.

He noticed movement towards the kitchen and instinctively looks over. His eldest brother had moved closer into the living area, noticing the disturbance. Leonardo's head quickly turned from Raphael's door, and he moved back to continue his preparations, as if trying to hide the fact he ever became aware of the disruptive music invading their home.

There was a gnawing feeling at his conscious that, perhaps he was the one acting out of line. Everything that was happening was because of him. And there was still a chance Leonardo did not know what happened the night before. Donatello felt willing to accept that his own paranoia was building a scenario that was simply not happening.

Everyone else seemed to be following routine. He was the only factor truly standing out. Raphael was always a dick. Michelangelo was gorging on something, locked up in his room in a rare instance. Leonardo was concerned for all in his free time, trying to care for them. He was not building a witch burning pyre to cleanse his brothers of evil spirits. He was making their father tea. There was a chance Donatello had not caused any harm. His imagination was running wild with the scene. And the feeling elated his sour mood.

Donatello decided he could not sit there all day. He still had a lot of thinking to do. The entire past twenty-four hours needed to be thoroughly analyzed. He needed an objective.

The turtle casually walked towards his laboratory and closed the door softly behind him. This time, he felt no need for the locks.

A familiar beeping noise greeted him instantly and Donatello looked at his computer like he was about to behold the second coming.

The genius immediately rushed over to his computer station and shook the mouse to get the screen to stop sleeping. He moused over to the "Retrieve Results" option and hesitated. He glanced over to his printer, the one connected to the machine responsible for the testing, and started searching his mind for reasons to delay. He found none.

The test results were complete. He had forgotten again that he even ran the stupid thing. Yesterday felt so different today, and he was not sure if he was prepared for the answers.

Prepared or not, he pushed the button. A slow loading process followed, with actual scale comparisons of their DNA on the screen. Moments later, his old printer started to churn, a second page with more comprehensible results started to materialize. The comparison form was heavily scientific and would require further study. But the analysis, currently printing, would tell him within seconds the answer to his question.

There was nothing left to delay upon. This was the obvious next step for him to take. With a shaky hand, Donatello reached for the freshly printed results.

And he flung the piece of paper to the side, instantly wanting it out of his sight. For a moment he felt compelled to burn it, as if it would serve in evidence to his future convictions. The turtle grumbled and leaned so far back in his chair, it started to protest.

"I knew it."


Secrets don't make friends, Donnie. =o)