love

Donnie was bitterly sick over the next four days. It was not the most peaceful time, with Leo's longsuffering attitude, and his 'I told you so' expression, Or Raph's brooding that thankfully didn't boil over into the full-fledged rage, Or Mikey's pensive silent worry. Donnie was aware, but whatever bug taking advantage of him had robbed him of his voice completely when he woke. The others had decided that it was either a wickedly bad cold, or an equally bad flu, and every time Donnie even twitched, would glare him back down into stillness. The only reason he ever left the bed was for bathroom breaks, and those were accompanied by a brother or Father, lest he pass out again.

Donnie would have protested, had he been able to speak. But he couldn't. He contented himself with glares and eye rolls. But his body had had enough of him by then and insisted that he sleep. So he did. Even when he was trying to do something, like read, he would fall asleep randomly, without ever being able to resist it at all. The others encouraged this, with shoving cold medicine down his throat, cup after cup of soothing, sleepy teas that did nothing for keeping him out of the bathroom, and making sure he had soup on hand.

Christmas Eve saw the flu or whatever it was loosening its grip on him, and everyone around him finally relaxed. HIs fever broke, and he was able to eat a whole bowl of soup. So he was allowed to rest on the couch with the rest of his family, as they watched Christmas specials. April was there, and so was her Father, who was more relaxed than the brothers had ever seen him. He and Splinter seemed had built up a bit of a friendship, and the two spent much of the evening playing chess and talking.

Mikey busied himself with making popcorn for the others, and a huge pot of cider for everyone. When he wasn't doing that, he was spending a fruitless hour trying to convince Klunk that wearing a Christmas ribbon around his neck was a great idea after all. Klunk thought otherwise.

Raph was bummed that Casey was not there because he had left with his family out of state for some family thing. But he had called and talked to him on the phone for a while, and that cheered him up enough to enter in the festivities enough to tease April and taunt Mikey about Klunk's continued resistance. Leo was a calm beacon of peace, as he sat in his favorite chair, and drank cider, and smiled at everyone as though love was as cheap as dirt. April never once left Donnie's side, which made for a very contented teenage boy. She made sure he had enough covers, and plumped his pillow every so often, and chatted about all the things that happened in the last few days, and everything she thought might interest him. He still couldn't speak above a whisper, but he listened with all his might, smiles all over his face.

Time seemed to fly, and before anyone was ready for it, it was midnight, and Splinter made it quite clear that it was time for bed. They always opened gifts on Christmas day, so Donnie was startled when Leo, before they broke up the festivities for the night, pressed a wad of envelopes in one of his hands. "read them when you get settled in bed." He said, before straightening up, and offering him a hand up.

Donnie stared at the envelopes in his hands. He was sure there were giant question marks flying around his head. But nobody else said a word about them, as he was gently moved up the stairs and into his room. April, the last one to leave, tucked him in. Then kissing his forehead, she slipped away with a whispered. "Merry Christmas, Donnie."

Donnie touched the spot where she kissed him, with little hearts in his eyes, and sighed happily. Then he noticed the envelopes again. Curious, he glanced over each one. No signature, nothing to mar the surface of any of them. Some were rather thick, others felt almost flat. One smelt faintly of gingerbread.

He opened the gingerbready one, and Mikey's messy scrawl met his eyes.

Donnie!

Leo and Sensei thought of this, and I like the idea! I don't like to write much, at least not the handwriting part. But Dude! You scared me out of my shell when you passed out like that! And I really, really, really, really want you to know that...I mean, I didn't like that. Not at all! We love ya, man! And when you see someone you love suffering, it hurts. Like, a lot!

So, please don't do this to yourself again, D! We will, like, totally love anything you give us. I mean, duh! You cam make any trash into gold! Like seriously. I bet you can take duck tape, gum and half a piece of paper and turn it into something really rad! So don't worry so much about doing everything perfectly! I know you totally wig about that, like, a lot. Don't. We love you even if you were da biggest, dumbest most useless thing on the face of the planet! Which you are totally not, by the way. Just saying. So you don't gotta earn our love. YOU totally got it already! So chill, kay?

Oh, and P.S. If you like my soup, give this letter a big thumbs up!

Mikester!

Donnie felt his eyes mist over, and a suspicious drop of water splattered on the letter. He blushed profusely over that, and quickly wiped his face with an arm, to keep more signs of his emotions from being seen later on the paper. After a minute, he was able to fold up the paper and put it to the side on the table beside his bed. The warm gooey feeling was back, thick and sweet like fudge sauce.

He glanced at the other letters warily, wondering if they had similar messages. Then sighed, and resigned himself to the high probability that they would indeed. Picking one at random, he opened it, and found a four-page letter, in his Father's neat handwriting. Quickly, he put it to the side, to read last. He had the bad feeling that if he read it now, he would end up crying so hard that he would never get through any of the others.

Recklessly, he grabbed the thinnest one and opened it.

Don.

You big bonehead. You try this again, and I'll smack the green off ya.

How dare you scare m...the others like that!

And sorry. I should have noticed sooner. I don't know why you think you need to torture yourself. But let me give ya a little hint. I don't think April's inta that whole bondage thing. So do yourself a favor and get over it.

Just get over it. We love ya.

And if you tell anyone I wrote that I'll whap you in the head until your eyes are at level with your collarbone!

You know who.

Donnie chuckled, even as his eyes threatened to spill over with water again, and the fudge welled up more and more inside his chest, warming him from the worst chill that his former fever could have thrown him. Trust Raph's letter to read more like a threat than a, well, whatever these letters was supposed to be. A wake-up call, maybe?

He frowned in thought. They were acting like he did this a lot. But he didn't. Did he? Did they really think he liked to torture himself?

He opened the new thinnest letter and frowned in confusion. It was from Kirby? But he barely knew him. Silently, he read the letter.

Salutations.

When I first found out about this little project of your brothers, I was intrigued. I know something of you, from what April had told me. And I know that you helped me at least twice when I was mutated. So, the first thing I wanted to do is to thank you for that. I honestly do not know what would have happened to me if you didn't find a way to reverse the mutations. Probably nothing pleasant.

I know, both from my observations of you, and what April had told me, that you are a brilliant and compassionate teen. those seldom go together. I have also learned from your family that you suffer from insomnia, that you often seem to bury yourself in your work, and often forget to eat. I observed that you can be compulsive in your habits, and seem socially awkward and unsure of yourself. I was wondering if you would like to meet up with me, perhaps once a week, and we fan figure out what is going on. It might be something serious. Or it might just be that you need to learn better self-care techniques. But either way, trust me. I take care of people for a living. Even if I am not yet completely over my paranoia over the Krang. After what they did, I feel I deserve a littler neurosis over them.

I will wrap this letter up, but I want to say again, thank you. Thank you for helping me. Thank you for helping to save the city, even if nobody else would thank you for it. And most of all, thank you for being a friend to my little girl when she needed a friend the most.

Dr. Kirby O'Neal

The fudge was thicker, and so overwhelming, that Donnie didn't know how much of it he was able to take. Still, a part of him was stung that this, well, not stranger, but that Kirby thought he needed psychiatric help! If he was thinking that about him, what in the world was he thinking about Raph? Mikey!?

There were two more unopened envelopes, and Splinter's letter to get through still, and he both dreaded and yearned for them. Part of him felt like he had been starving and these letters were filling him up in a way that he didn't know he needed before. He sometimes wondered if anyone else really liked him, or did they put up with him because he was useful to them. But the letters showed that his family really did care about him. Enough to care for him when he was sick. Enough to write these letters to him. And he dreaded it because he didn't know how much more of this he could take before becoming a pathetic mass of weeping emotion.

Taking the bull by the horn, as it were, he opened the thicker of the two and was not surprised to see that it was three sheets of paper, in Leo's lovely calligraphy. Leo never could do anything simply. Donnie wondered if he meant to show off, or if he wrote in this style for so long that it was like writing in print for anyone else. Just something he did without thinking of it anymore.

Donatello

We had a conference soon after you, well, fell ill. And we all came to the realization that this has gone on long enough. Dr. O'Neal called in an intervention, and I think that is a very good thing to call it. Because what's been going on with you and the way you take care of yourself, or should I say don't take care of yourself, it has to stop. I am serious, Donnie. It has got to stop now.

I know you. You are probably rolling your eyes and thinking I am being bossy and controlling right now. And yes, I know I can be that way. So I think the only way to really bring it home to you, to make it really real in your mind, and with the facts. I know you prefer facts to mere sentimentality.

Let's start with the time, as Mikey called it, mutagen rained down on the city like a really bad b-movie series. Really, Mikey needs to start expressing himself more like a normal person. You did not sleep for at least twenty-four hours after that happened. When you were not making that doohickey that tracks mutagen, you were out looking for mutagen. When you were not doing that, you were trying to create an anti-mutagen in the lab. And April said that when you were out, you were following her! When did you sleep in all that? And let's not even mention Timothy in all that. Don't you think that the reason you started talking to him like that was that you were too tired to know better? Your reaction time in that fight, by the way, was off, but as I mentioned that before, I won't bring it up again.

But that was only one instance of poor judgment, brought on by a lack of care for yourself. There was the thing with, but I won't blame you for that. Instead, allow me to apologize. That time was my fault. I pushed you and pushed you because I wanted that cure. I wanted Splinter to have his daughter back. And I won't lie, I wanted Karai back to normal. I...I missed her. But I should have remembered that my brother needed me to be a brother to him. And if my behavior then and other times ever made you think that you had to be perfect all the time for us to care about you, then I have done you a grave disservice. I am so very sorry.

You know what, forget the facts. I won't list every time you pulled all-nighters or even all-weekers. I won't mention how cross you get, or how Raph is sure there are times your blood's been replaced by coffee. I won't mention how many times I found you asleep at your desk. You're smart. Smarter than the rest of us put together. You know what I am saying is true. Yet you keep doing it.

Is it true? Is this a sign that you think you are not worth being cared for? Is this really you trying to hurt yourself? Or are you autistic, and we just never figured it out until now? What goes on in your head when you decide not to eat or sleep or when you push yourself so hard to be, I don't know. I just don't know what to say, or how to help you. I should know. I...you...it's my job. It's my job to take care of my brothers. And you are one of my brothers. And my friend.

When I am having a hard time, I turn to you for advice. When Raph is acting up, or Mikey is extra, well, Mikey, I look to you to be a stable center. I trust you. Even when we have our differences, I still trust you to back me and be there for me. Even when we fought, I know you only really had the best of our family in mind. We just don't always agree on what is best for our family, but I always know that you will look out for the rest of us with your last breath. Just please let us look out for you. We love you. And we need you. I don't know what this family will do without your level head.

I know this is a lot to take in. And you have the other letters too. I know better than anyone how hard it can be to take advice, let alone accept help. But just think about it at least. I love you, Donnie-run.

Leonardo

Donnie gave up keeping the tears back about halfway through reading Leo's letter. He didn't know what he expected. Honestly, the first part came closest. A letter, pointing out all the ways he was messing up and telling him to shape up or ship out, only in nicer, Leo-language. But when Leo stopped lecturing and started apologizing, that shift in the tone completely confused Donnie, and by the end, the last paper was sprinkled liberally with salt water like that was somehow necessary for letter maintenance. The hot fudge feeling was so intense by now that he felt like he was drowning in it. And there were two more letters to read! He got up hurriedly and bolted for the bathroom He needed a breather. Thankfully, nobody came out to investigate or ask why he was not asleep. Don was pretty sure he would not be able to handle it. He was not sure how he would react, but he was sure it would be emotional, and depending on what the emotion was, it had a rather high percentile of ending rather horribly.

He felt calmer after washing his face and taking some deep breaths. He went to the kitchen next and felt a wave of gratitude that he was now mending enough to have the energy and strength to be able to walk about again. Even if it's only for short trips. He got a glass out for some water before he noticed that Mikey had left the pot of cider out. It was cold by now, but there was still plenty, and it was very tasty. He drank a whole glass in a few gulps, then helped himself to another glassful, before heading back to his room. Halfway there, he heard something following and glanced back. Klunk was following in his wake. He smiled down at the cat ruefully. "Did Mikey put you up to this?" he asked the feline quietly.

Klunk's ears perked up, and he went a little faster, jumping into Donnie's room ahead of him. Donnie found him curled up in the center of his bed and rolled his eyes. "Okay, you can't have the whole bed. Scrooch," he said, as he climbed in after. Klunk seemed to glare at him in profound feline annoyance but begrudgingly settled at the foot of the bed. He then proceeded to start grooming himself.

Donnie chuckled at the sight and felt like he could deal with the letters with a clearer mind again. Picking up the last envelope, he stared at it with an uncertain expression. this one had to be April. The other one was Splinter after all. What would April say? All kinds of impossible thoughts, wishes and fears flitted across his mind like a pack of restless ghosts. Finally, he tore it open and took the letter out in a do or die manner, and began to read.

Donnie.

I don't know what to say.

You were the first to come to help me. You saved my life, in so many ways, more times than I can count. You had been a true friend to me, even when I had not always been one to you. Thank you for that.

I guess what makes this so hard to write is that I just don't understand how someone who cares so much for his friends and family could seem to care so little for himself? I am a daughter of a shrink. I know a person with low self-esteem when I see it. I just don't understand where this problem could come from. Is it because of you being a mutant? Is it because you feel like you are somehow got good enough to protect your family? Or is it something else?

Whatever it is, I will stand right beside you. I might kick you in the shell to get you to see reason, but I would never not be your friend. You and the rest are stuck with me. Don't forget that! I could never ask for better brothers and friends. And I will never stop telling you how wonderfully you are. Until you start believing it too and start treating yourself with the care and attention that you deserve. I love you, Donnie.

April

The fudge was at work in his chest again, even as a tiny piece of his heart broke. Until he got the toe part where April said she loved him, Donnie felt confused by the tone of the letter. It was very kind, of course. But he knew she would have written that way to any of them like that. Does she really just see him as a friend and brother only? Is this her way of letting him know that she will never see him that way? Then she said she loved him? Did she mean love him like a brother, or did she mean love him like she loves him? He felt confused, but also hopeful. Not quite ready to give up the hope just yet, he carefully folded it and put it under his pillow. For safe keeping, he told himself firmly. Then, with a sigh, he picked up his father's letter and started reading.

My son,

It is hard to watch a son suffer. It is even harder watching a son suffer at his own hand. It is hardest to watch one suffer at his own hand, and not know what to do to help ease that suffering. Please, what can I do to ease your suffering, my son?

I know our life is not always easy. I wish it was. There is so much I long to give you and your brothers. You are each special and wonderful in your own way, and it hurts to know that almost nobody will know just how wonderful my children are, or how much they could offer to the world if but given the opportunity.

You, in particular, have so much to offer. You should have been put where your brilliant mind would be fed, and developed to your fullest ability. You should have had every opportunity to develop and be praised for your brilliance, your creative spark, your ability to adapt and learn in almost every situation you find yourself in. But also celebrated for your beautiful soul. Your kind and selfless spirit. But I ask you not to be selfless anymore.

I ask you to be selfish and take care of yourself now. A candle is beautiful when it is lit. But if it burns at both ends, it is gone before it's time, and there is no way to bring that candle back. And if you push yourself past your body's ability to recover time after time, then I fear that we will lose you before your time. And like the candle, there will be no bringing you back. And if that happens, then I will have to endure the loss of two beautiful children before their time. And I do not think I will long survive that.

Please, go talk to Dr. O'Neal. If it helps, I would want you to be open with him. Do not put on a brave face and hide whatever troubles you in an effort not to trouble another. I believe what you might really need is to talk to someone who is not family. Someone who will not judge you for what you say. Someone who does not have an emotional involvement. Someone who might even be a friend to you. You and he seem to share many of the same interests. It might be nice just to talk to someone who cares about intellectual pursuits as you do and won't tune you out or listen only because they love you, and want to be supportive.

But do not forget me, my son. I will always love you, no matter what. I will always help if it is in my power to help. And remember your brothers. They may not understand all you have to say, but they love you too. Even if some have rather...interesting ways of expressing that fondness. And remember that in the end, this family is all we have left. There will be few opportunities for friendship outside of our small family unless the world changes for the better in our lifetime. And your brothers should be and are your closest and most constant support. Make use of it. Show them how they can best help you. You have already shown us time and again how you help us, even when we are less than grateful for that assistance.

I will always love you, my gentle Donatello.

Donnie was right. He was now a messy pile of emotion. April's letter was not the only one that found it's way under his pillow that night Donnie snuggled deep in his blanket, unmindful of a protesting meow as he absently displaced Klunk. He hugged the pillow to him and cried himself to sleep. This time, he didn't even try to stop himself. There was going to be gifts tomorrow. Tomorrow he will get to see the looks on everyone's faces when they get what he had made for them. Tomorrow, he was sure would be a wonderful Christmas day. But he felt like he already got his Christmas gifts. Because he never realized before that night just how much he was loved by those he held nearest and dearest to him. It was a lesson he knew he was needing to learn. It was a lesson he knew he would never forget.