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Donatello spent the next few days analyzing what he had managed to steal from Hun's operation. Leonardo was pleased that Don was keeping busy in the lab, rather than insisting on joining his brothers on more patrols.
Conversely, it would have been rather nice to have Don out there with them. Hun was spitting mad about his equipment being stolen. The Purple Dragons were causing trouble all over the city in the hopes of luring the turtles. The guys had their hands full, but Leonardo did his best to hide this from Don.
Therefore, Donatello was surprised when Raphael came to him with a black eye and a six-inch long gash on his arm. "Don, do you mind stitching me up?" Raphael greeted.
Don looked up from his work, then leaped out of his chair, ignoring the shot of pain in his back and abdominal muscles as he sprinted over to where Raphael was standing in the laboratory doorway. "Sheesh!" Don hissed. "What happened to you?"
"Hun happened to me," Raphael explained. "Got kinda mad when I broke his friend's wrist."
Don gently turned Raphael's arm over, examining it very closely. "Is this a knife wound?"
"Yup. Nice and clean, though, not rusty or anything," Raphael clarified.
"We should clean and disinfect the wound anyway," Don decided. "Have a seat."
Raphael sat down on the small cot that Donatello kept in his lab. Don gave him an ice pack for his eye, then went to gather his suturing equipment. He brought it all over and set it down on a side table. "This is going to sting," Don warned, just before applying some hydrogen peroxide. He let it sit for a few minutes, then meticulously cleansed Raphael's arm with soap and water.
When he was satisfied, Donatello went to wash his own hands, stretching his back with a wince while he did so. Raphael watched with his good eye, noting how stiff Don's movements were.
Don took a seat beside Raph and began stitching. Raphael would never admit it, but he always chose Donatello to tend to him for a good reason. Dr. Don simply had the best bedside manner, as well as the gentlest hands. Heck, he probably would have made a great Doctor for real, had he been born a human. But then, they weren't human, so they had to look out for their own.
"Your back okay, bro?" Raphael asked after a while.
Don's eyes briefly darted to Raph's own, before returning to the wound that he was working on. "It's just sore. Too much sitting."
"Too much sitting is the least of your problems," Raphael opined. "If anything you're doing too much of everything else."
"Says the guy who asked me to drop what I was doing and stitch him up," Don teased.
"At least you aren't hunched over that computer at the moment," Raphael scolded. "That can't be good for your back."
Don smiled and shook his head as he continued to stitch. "Don't injure yourself up on my account. There are far better ways to get me to take a break."
"Now you tell me," Raphael chuckled.
Don spent the next ten minutes carefully closing Raphael's wound and wrapping it with gauze. He got up and removed the ice pack from Raph's eye. When he turned to put everything away, he managed to knock over the hydrogen peroxide with his belly. It crashed to the floor, and the cap broke off.
"Nuts!" Don exclaimed.
Raphael only laughed. "You've got to learn to watch out with that thing. It's getting big enough to do some serious damage around here."
"Haha," Don said dryly. He stepped over the spilled liquid to grab a roll of paper towels.
"I wasn't kidding," Raphael reinforced. "You're lucky that wasn't glass."
Donatello puffed out a breath of air as he knelt down on the floor. "How about you take a break from making fun of me and help me clean this up?"
Leonardo and Donatello agreed that Raphael shouldn't be bending his arm for a few days, and that he should stay below ground until his eye was better. With Raph out of commission, Don stepped in to help out with patrols. It meant putting aside his research, but it was better than allowing the Purple Dragons to tear apart the city. Besides, he felt like he needed the exercise. The babies were already beginning to feel heavy, and sitting in front of the computer all day was leaving him so achy and stiff. He wanted fresh air and an excuse to exercise.
Leonardo knew better than to say anything, but he hated having Don out and about in his condition, especially after what had happened to Raphael.
Leonardo peered at Don, as the resident genius drove the Battle Shell to April's apartment. There was precious little space between Don's protruding belly and the steering wheel. "We should really push that seat back," Leonardo thought out loud.
Don looked at him pointedly and did just that. "Happy now?" he snapped.
Leonardo didn't respond. Pregnant Donatello had a tendency to get cranky. Leo found it best not to engage. He knew that Don was under a great deal of mental and physical stress, so he was easily forgiven.
Don pulled over, and April and Casey climbed into the van. After they exchanged greetings, Don headed out in search of trouble. "The police scanner has been picking up a lot of activity near the Museum of Natural History," Leonardo said. "Maybe start there."
"Will do," Don agreed as he slipped the van back into drive.
"So, how's it going with the antenna?" April asked.
"So-so. It's definitely some interesting tech. I'm hoping to be able to integrate some of what I'm learning into the EDS," Don answered.
"Why only so-so, then?" April wondered.
"I'm just a little worried that Hun's team will be able to repair their equipment quickly. What I've found is cool and all, but I think that it would be relatively easy to recreate with materials that are readily available in the City," Don explained.
"Aren't the odds pretty good that they have spare parts anyway?" April asked.
"I suppose," Don answered. "I would imagine that the Triceraton planned for this contingency."
"Are you are still monitoring for new communications?" April checked.
"You bet I am," Don replied. He stifled a yawn as he turned a corner and Central Park came into view. "What do you say, Leo? Shall I just drive around for a while?"
"It's as good an idea as any," Leonardo answered. "This whole area has been crawling with Dragons for days now. They're bound to show up again tonight."
"How's Raph?" Casey asked.
"He's fine," Leonardo answered. "He's just having a hard time bending his arm because of all the stitches."
"And you're sure you trust him alone in the Lair?" April joked.
"Oh, how much damage can he do?" Michelangelo replied. "He's probably enjoying having the TV to himself."
"Don, can you pull into that alley?" Leonardo requested. "I think that I recognize those guys."
Don did as commanded, and everyone climbed out of the Battle Shell. Leo snuck up to the corner of the building and peeked around it. "Those are definitely Purple Dragons," Leonardo confirmed. "I recognize the wallet chains and 1980's haircuts."
"What do you want to do?" April asked.
"Split up," Leonardo decided. "Don and I stay here, April, Casey, and Michelangelo head up the street. That way we can head them off if they try to run."
Everyone climbed out of the Battle Shell and reported to their assigned stations. "You can hang back by the van if you want to, Don," Leonardo suggested after the others left.
Don leaned against the side of a building. "I'm fine."
"I know," Leo quickly replied. "I was just saying."
It didn't take long for the pair of Purple Dragons to nab an old lady's purse. Leo and Don took off running. "Headed your way, Mikey," Leonardo called into his shell cell.
Don was right on Leo's heels. He was keeping up just fine, although he was huffing and puffing due to decreased lung capacity. After a couple of blocks, Leonardo managed to grab the purse. He tossed it back to Don before tackling one of the Purple Dragons.
Don helped Leo take the Dragons down. When the others arrived, April called the police. She said that she had witnessed a theft, and turned in the purse. She then went back to the police station to file a witness report.
The turtles spent the night dealing with a series of similar incidents. After three hours, and a half dozen fights, Donatello was more than ready to go home. He was hungry and exhausted. His back and feet were killing him. That's when Hun finally made his appearance.
"You freaks are turning into quite a nuisance," the giant growled as he stepped out of the dive bar that he'd been hanging out at.
Michelangelo yawned. "Do we have to do this right now?"
"I suppose I could walk away," Hun offered. "If you return what you stole from me."
Mikey was momentarily confused. "What did we steal? Ohhhh wait - do you mean that antenna thingy?"
"Very funny," Hun spat. "So, where are you hiding the goods?"
"In your mom's underwear drawer," Michelangelo teased. Leonardo shook his head, and Don groaned.
"You can tell me now," Hun said calmly, "or you can hide in your nasty shells while I rip this city apart. One way or another, I'm getting my stuff back."
"We're not hiding," Leonardo shot back. "We're right here."
Hun summoned five of his friends, who came out of the bar wielding pool cues and glass beer bottles. Leonardo loosened his shoulder muscles, and Donatello whipped out his bo staff. Michelangelo set his nunchucks spinning, and Casey selected a golf club.
The opposing groups threw themselves at one another, making sure that the melee worked its way to the back alley where it was more likely to escape notice.
"No one steals from me!" Hun roared as he landed a lucky hit and smashed Michelangelo into a fire escape.
"Mikey!" Leonardo yelled. He couldn't break free from the two men that he was fighting. Don saw this, and managed to snap his bo staff against his own opponent's chest. Before the Dragon could recover, Don pole-vaulted away and landed near Mikey.
"It's me you want!" Donatello shouted. "I took your equipment."
Leonardo hollered a warning. "Donatello, don't!"
Hun dropped Mikey. "I don't care which one of you freaks has it. I only care about getting it back."
"I'm kind of using it right now," Donatello countered. He then darted out of the way of a mighty punch from Hun. Hun recovered in no time, forcing Don to backflip away to avoid another punch. He landed gracefully, but after hours on his feet, the weight of the babies was quickly wearing him down. His abdominal muscles strained as he made the jump, and then flared with agony as the weight of his triplets crashed into them upon his landing. Don grasped his midsection, but managed to keep himself from whimpering.
"I knew it. You tried to eat it, didn't you, fatty?" Hun taunted.
Don ignored the insult and instead focused on regaining his breath. He wasn't going to last much longer. Hun saw this and advanced faster. Don panted as he blocked each punch and kick with his bo.
A couple of Dragons had fallen, but Leonardo and Michelangelo were busy with their own fights and weren't in a position to help Don. Casey had been forced into the street, and was currently trying to convince a passerby not to call the police. Don sighed. He hated to become the aggressor, but he needed to end this fight now, before Hun got the better of him.
Donatello allowed Hun to back him into a corner. Hun looked like he believed that his victory was ensured. Just when Hun was about to grab him, Don leaped high into the air, flipped over, and landed behind the giant. Before Hun had time to pivot around, Don had set his bo spinning at lightning-fast speed. He feigned as if he were going to connect with Hun's left side. Hun had barely managed to turn around, and instinctively shifted to his right to blunt the force of Donatello's incoming strike. At the last second, Don changed the direction of the spin. He snapped the other end of the bo into the right side of Hun's jaw. It made a sickening cracking noise, and Hun collapsed like a bag of bricks.
The move put a terrible strain on Don's wrists. The strike was so powerful that his arms shook from his hands to his shoulders as the bo reverberated. Any human would have dropped the staff, but Don's thick, strong fingers allowed him to maintain his grip.
Hun made a gurgling noise, as he clasped his jaw and spit out a tooth. He writhed on the ground, but did not attempt to get up. Don was relieved that the worst of the fight was over, but he couldn't believe that he had done something so violent. It was all he could do to keep himself from losing his dinner all over the pavement.
"Oh! Did you see that?!" Mikey hooted. "Hun's going to be taking all of his meals through a straw for a month!"
Seeing their leader go down had caused the other Purple Dragons to falter. "Retreat!" Leonardo yelled, seeing the opportunity to slip away. While Leo wouldn't have admitted it out loud, he was a little shocked at the overt display of aggression from his normally peaceful brother.
Donatello purchased an industrial sized can of olives and scarfed them down in the Battle Shell on the way home. He needed something to settle his stomach, as well as his nerves, or he was going to yak on the floor of the van. Sadly, it wouldn't have been the first time.
He beat a quick path to his room as soon as the group made it home to the Lair. He was more than ready to turn in for the night, but every time he closed his eyes, he saw Hun's broken face as he collapsed. Unfortunately, it made Don physically ill, and the retching did no favors to his strained stomach muscles. As much as he needed it, there would be no early bedtime for Don tonight.
Donatello figured that if he was going to be awake, he might as well get some work done. Between doctoring Raphael and joining the patrol, he hadn't spent much time tending to his other duties lately.
Don was too mentally exhausted to work on anything Triceraton-related. The Battle Shell needed some repairs, but any sort of hard physical labor like that was also clearly out of the question. He decided to consult his to-do list and find something a little less challenging to work on.
As he leafed through the multiple sheets of paper, Donatello tried to suppress the onset of a panic attack. The only thing growing faster than the babies was the list of things he needed to accomplish prior to their arrival. Every time he managed to cross something off, it seemed that three more items were added. Just as he was beginning to calm down, Raphael walked in.
"How are you feeling, Donatello?" Raph asked. "I'm a little surprised to see you awake."
"I'm fine," Don fibbed. "The babies are just keeping me up again."
Raphael frowned. Something about Don seemed off, even more so than usual. The others had told Raph about what happened on patrol, and he knew that Don didn't handle that stuff very well. Maybe Don just needed a distraction? Raphael shuffled his feet. "I was wondering if you could help me out with something in the garage?"
The last thing Don wanted to do was go to the garage. While the threat of a panic attack had passed, it had left a major stress headache in its wake. Between that and all his other aches and pains, he now desperately wanted to just lie back down. The turtle was overwhelmed and exhausted.
Raphael sensed his hesitation. "I thought you said you were feeling okay?"
"I am," Donatello lied again. "It's just, patrol is hard on me right now, you know? I just wanted to try and relax for a little while."
Raphael wasn't sure what to do. His genius brother didn't have a lazy bone in his body. He worked and fought right up until the outbreak virus took him. But if Don wasn't being lazy, that meant he was lying about not feeling well. Don had never been a liar, either. So where did that leave them? It seemed to Raphael that a distraction would do Donatello some good, so he pressed on.
"Look, Don, I know you must be stressed out, but I'm only asking you to supervise. I'm already an expert with my bike, and regular vehicles. It's just your specially-designed stuff that I worry about taking care of on my own. But, once I'm more comfortable with the vehicle maintenance, it will be one more thing that's permanently off your list. I'm just trying to help you out."
Don internalized a sigh. "You're right. Just give me a couple of minutes and I'll meet you in the garage." After Raphael left, Don rubbed his temples and stretched out his back. His feet were ridiculously swollen. That was new. Yet another thing to hope nobody would notice. Don groaned and hobbled off.
He found Raphael elbow deep in the Battle Shell's engine compartment. "So, if I want to check the weapon system, the first thing I need to do is unscrew this, right?"
Don peeked at the component that his brother was indicating. "Yup."
Raphael completed his task. "Do I need to pull this out, or should I leave it in place?"
Don yawned. "Uh. Either works. I've done it both ways."
Raphael furrowed his brow. "Well, what do you recommend?"
Don hesitated. "Let's take it out and get a good look at it."
Raphael noticed that Don was no longer over his shoulder. He looked behind him, and saw that Don had taken a seat at his workbench and was tinkering with something. "What's that?" Raphael asked. He was a little irritated to not have his brother's full attention.
"I'm making a spare shell cell," Don explained. "The old spare is now my new one."
"Can it wait?" Raphael requested. "I was hoping you'd watch me do this."
"I thought you had it," Don semi-apologized. Truthfully, he had just been making up an excuse to get off of his feet for a few minutes. He struggled back up and began approaching Raphael. "All you have to do is release the quick-connect."
Without warning, the Battle Shell shot out a ball of compressed garbage. It smashed into one of Don's tool chests and sent its contents flying everywhere. Raphael hit the deck, and Donatello backpedaled.
"Not that one!" Don barked. "The one on the other side!"
"A little late to be telling me that now, don't you think?" Raphael growled from his spot on the floor.
"Sorry," Don stammered. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah." Raphael hesitated as he swallowed his anger. "Are you?"
"Yeah. Looks like my tool chest took the worst of it." Don frowned. "What a mess."
"Figures," Raphael huffed. "I was afraid that something like that was going to happen. Why weren't you watching me, Don? I told you I needed help."
"Sorry," Don apologized again. "I forgot that the garbage cannon was primed."
Raphael took a calming breath. "At least no one was hurt."
Don clapped Raph on the shoulder, then grabbed a broom and began cleaning the mess.
Leonardo and Michelangelo came jogging in. Their jaws dropped open at the sight of the garbage and tools scattered everywhere. "What's going on in here?" Leonardo demanded.
"Little mishap," Raphael explained. "We've got it under control."
"What were you doing to the Battle Shell?" Leonardo huffed.
"Me?" Raphael's anger rose again. "I was learning to repair it like we talked about."
"You promised you wouldn't touch anything unless Don was supervising!" Leonardo exclaimed. "I get that you're bored because your arm has you out of commission, but that doesn't give you the right to mess around where you shouldn't."
"Don was supervising!" Raphael defended. "He just wasn't doing a very good job of it."
"Where even is he?" Michelangelo wondered. "I thought he was in bed."
"He was supposed to be," Leonardo replied.
"I'm right here," Don spoke up from the corner. He'd previously been hidden from Leo and Mikey's line of sight.
"Jeez, Don," Leo scolded. "Why the heck did you get out of bed?"
"Couldn't sleep," Don replied.
"Well, you should've kept trying," Leonardo chastised. "Clearly your head is somewhere else if this happened on your watch." Leo turned to Raph. "Did you aggravate your injury at all?"
Raphael was surprised that Leo's anger was apparently targeted at Donatello instead of him for once. It took him a moment for him to answer, "No."
"Well, I think the two of you have done enough for one night," Leonardo announced. "Why don't you both turn in? Mikey and I will clean this up."
"Me! Why am I being punished?" Michelangelo complained.
"Raph is wounded, and Don is pregnant," Leo explained. "We can't have them wading through festering old garbage. They could get sick, or Raph's injury could get infected."
"Have fun," Raphael quipped as he left the room. He was irritated enough about this whole chain of events to know that it was best to walk away.
Don wasn't so smart. He leaned on the broom he had been using. "May I remind you that we live in the sewers? A little old garbage is nothing."
"I said go to bed, Donatello!" Leonardo exploded. "Will you please just do as I ask for once?!"
Donatello muttered an apology to Mikey as he handed him the broom and stalked out of the garage. He felt about two inches tall.