Chapter 29: A Plan
On the couch, Raphael stretched his sleep-deprived muscles and forbade his eyes from closing.
"I can't believe he still made me do that stupid meditation thing after all a that" he groaned.
"Ah, but does your soul feel more tranquil now?" Mikey teased, using his best impression of Master Splinter.
Raphael stopped stretching and glared at his little brother. "I'll show ya tranquil" he growled, punching him uncouthly in the arm.
"Master Splinter! Raphael's anger management isn't working!" he pouted, rubbing the sore spot.
"Shove it ass wipe" he yelled, pulling back for another attack.
"Raphael! Enough!" came Splinter's scolding from the kitchen.
Without a word of apology, Raphael gave up mid-attack and sulked on the other side of the couch.
"I found the session extremely helpful" Leatherhead added from the other side of the living room, his voice way too chipper and eager for that early in the morning. It was really starting to get on Raph's nerves.
"Good for you" Raphael muttered under his breath with biting sarcasm.
"What was that, Raphie?" Mikey poked again, knowing that Master Splinter would keep his brother from retaliating.
"Shut up" he grumbled "before I shut you up."
Michelangelo just laughed evilly at the torture. Raph was really easy to agitate in the morning.
But Raphael didn't respond. After a moment of silence, Mikey stopped laughing and looked at his brother, his eyes half closed, his head nodding as he fought back the urge to sleep. For his own amusement, he jabbed him in the ribs with his elbow, causing him to quickly jolt awake.
"Ah, what? Damn it Mikey!" he glared, ready to spring another attack. He stopped before he could lay down a punch when Casey, April, and Splinter walked into the room after cleaning the breakfast dishes.
"Chicken" Mikey whispered under his breath.
"Go fuck yourself" Raphael retorted through his teeth as he threw a fake smile at the incoming crowd. Next to him, Mikey just pouted.
"I would like to apologize again for this morning, Raphael" said Leatherhead for probably the billionth time that morning.
Now the croc was really getting on his nerves. Raph new already he was going to have one hell of a bad day.
"It's ok! I'm fine. You hafta stop apologizin'!" said Raphael, brushing him off with a roll of his eyes.
But the croc seemed to be unable to detect the negative energy or the tone of sarcasm that Raph sent his way. Still, he continued, a hollow worry in his eyes that spoke of a distant, yet very real fear. "But if you were not fine, if I had inflicted some sort of injury, it would have been a completely different matter."
"Yeah, but you didn't, so stop sayin' that" Raphael insisted, trying not to sound rude so his sensei wouldn't nag him for it.
"What I believe my son is saying" Master Splinter interjected "is that one must not dwell on what could have come to pass, only what has come to pass. Our actions result in one outcome, and dwelling on the other possibilities helps no one."
"I understand" said Leatherhead curtly, pausing for a moment before drawing a quick breath, insisting to dwell on his argument. "Yet I cannot stop myself from thinking that if I did not have the device, Raphael would not be sitting here before me, alive and well."
"Yeah, but it didn't happen" Raphael retorted, the agitation starting to reveal its true colors in his voice.
"I know your fears, Leatherhead" Splinter added, trying to avoid a conflict "But our meditations will aid you in controlling these outbursts. You do not have to fear for what may be, only what is now."
The croc nodded at the cryptic message that left everyone else in the room scratching their heads. That is, except for Michelangelo who thought it best to not even try to understand.
"Hey Leatherhead?"
The croc's attention peaked as he turned his head to the turtle's inquisitive gaze "Yes, Raphael?"
"Have you ever thought of… ya know… gettin' back at Bishop… if ya the chance?"
Michelangelo looked at his big brother with concern. "I thought we were going to wait to tell him… I mean, Don isn't even up yet and he said we had to wait."
"I see a window an' I'm gunna take it. Gotta problem with that?" he growled, turning a glare at his little brother that was venomous enough to make him squirm.
Michelangelo shook his head, but the look on his face said that he was thinking otherwise.
"What is this about, my friends?" Leatherhead asked, obviously confused.
"Well… me an' my brothers were plannin' on deliverin' Bishop a little message, and maybe gettin' ourselves a little revenge in the meantime" Raphael grinned, already imagining the satisfying feeling of flesh, Bishop's flesh, meeting his knuckles.
Leatherhead looked skeptical. "I am not sure what you are planning, Raphael, and I am especially concerned for the success of those plans."
But Raphael never lost his determined grin. "Well that's the problem, see, we don't got nobody on the inside to tell us how to get in. If we gotta do what we gotta do, then we need someone who's been inside to tell us how ta get in and outta there."
Leatherhead looked disquieted as he mused. "Hmm. This does concern me" he pondered, envisioning every flaw, every potential tragedy that could result. "I am not sure what you expect me to tell you. When I was taken within Bishop's headquarters, it was not of my own free will. I do not know how to infiltrate without our presence being known."
And that got Raph thinking. Grinning deviously, he formulated his plan.
"And what is this message you plan to deliver?" Leatherhead continued, trying to clear his head of the millions of questions that floated in his brain. "Why is it of the utmost importance that you risk your lives to deliver it?"
"We have to warn him" answered Michelangelo with a distant look in his eyes. "We have to tell him about some things that might help change the future. There's something that Bishop has to make sure he takes care of so all this never happens."
"What is that exactly?" Leatherhead pried, tilting his head ever so slightly. "If you expect for me to aid you in this, I must know the details of what you speak because frankly, I am confused."
"The War" Michelangelo responded cryptically "we have to stop the War."
Leatherhead's eyes widened in disbelief. He knew that whatever the turtles had experienced in the past three years was brutal at best. Their scars and injuries told the story well. But even if they had indeed gone one hundred years into the future, the fact that they had been thrown into a war was beyond belief.
"War? You… fought a war, my friends?"
Michelangelo nodded as Raphael answered. "Yeah, a war… lasted only a few months 'cause Leo an' me killed the guy in charge of killin' a bunch a people, destroyin' planets and all a that."
"It was the Shredder" Michelangelo finally erupted, barely able to control the words that burst from his mouth. He couldn't stand all that cryptic crap anymore. Leatherhead gasped and Raphael glared at him, making him grin nervously and shrug at his slip of the tongue.
"What? We told April!"
"You told April dumb ass! Don said we weren't supposed ta screw with the time/space thing, remember?"
"I remember, but… he was after the Utroms!"
"Mikey!" Raphael roared as he reached over and slapped his brother upside the head. "When are you gunna learn to shut ya trap?" But the bewildered look in Leatherhead's eyes said that the worst of the damage had already been done.
"That wicked creature! What would he have done to the Utroms?" he boomed, images of genocide rampaging through his mind. His eyes narrowed at the thought. "He wanted his revenge" he spat at his sudden, dark realization. "He wanted his revenge for a punishment he well deserved!"
Raphael's heart beat a little faster in his chest when he saw the rage building up behind the crocodile's eyes. "Whoa, man, you gotta calm down. Remember all that anger management crap."
The croc's tight fists slackened a little as he exhaled and nodded slowly. "Yes, you are right, Raphael, allowing myself to give into my hatred for that… monster will not help a soul. Yet, I do believe I can aid your cause. Whatever you desire, I am ready to act. I will join you on this mission and ensure that these evils will never come to pass."
Raphael smiled "good, cause the way I'm thinkin' we'll get in, we're gunna need a diversion."
"A… diversion?" Leatherhead stuttered before shaking his head and staring determinedly at the turtle. "Whatever you wish, my friend. I will be there."
"Great" Raphael grinned. His plan was foolproof. There was no way they could fail.
Before anyone could make him explain, the sound of someone stumbling down the stairs caught everyone's attention.
Donatello, walking down the stairs like the living dead, took one stair at a time until he made his way to the bottom. Clutching the blanket closer around him with one hand and a tissue box in the other, he shuffled slowly over to the living room.
"Hey! Donny! How ya feelin' bud?"
"Great, just great" he snapped at Raphael, his unmasked eyes drawn into a venomous glare.
"Oooh Donny's sick! He's always mean when he's sick" Mikey teased in a sing-song voice.
"Well if you had my headache, you wouldn't be exactly pleasant either" he snapped again, plopping down on the couch where Raphael had made room for him. There, he curled up in a ball under his blanket and sulked for a while, closing his eyes against the living room light's torturous assault until he noticed the strange quiet that surrounded the room. He peaked around at his friends' solemn faces and sighed in disgust.
"You told them, didn't you" he spat at his two brothers, still managing to strike fear in them despite his stuffy nose. "They know everything, don't they?"
Michelangelo nodded, hoping Donny was too sick to kick his butt while he was in his bad mood.
"How much do they know?" he sighed. He could practically feel the time/space continuum shattering around him.
"A lot…" Michelangelo trailed, trying to look innocent.
"Mikey spilled the beans" Raphael accused, trying to duck past the blame.
"Damn it, Mikey! I thought we talked about this!"
"S-Sorry Donny, I…"
"He just got emotional, ok. You know how much he wants to stop the whole Shredder thing. And we got Leatherhead ta join up. I think I got a plan on how we're gunna get in…"
"Ok, whatever. Just stop talking" Donatello snapped with his eyes closed before Raphael could finish. "You're so irritating. Don't you remember that isn't the reason why we're doing this? We're supposed to stop Bishop from hunting us, from hurting innocent people."
"Oh yeah…" Michelangelo trailed again, as if caught up in an endless state of reverie.
"You're so delusional" Donatello spat accusingly "when are you going to stop thinking that Leo's going to raise from the dead just because you warned Bishop? Who's to say he'll even listen to you? This isn't a comic book, Mikey!"
Michelangelo looked to be on the verge of tears as his eyes lost their distant gaze and turned pleadingly to his brother, but Donatello's bad mood told him that he deserved it for his lack of common sense. Sighing deeply, he rolled his eyes at his little brother's pitiful attempts to make him feel guilty.
"Oh, come on Don. Just cause you're sick doesn't mean ya gotta take it out on Mikey!"
Donatello shrugged his shoulders and blew his nose into a tissue, throwing it onto the ever growing pile at his feet. Then he looked around without a shred of sympathy and closed his eyes, wishing his headache, and Michelangelo, and Raphael, and everyone else in the world would just leave him alone.
"Don… do you want an aspirin or something?" asked April, her voice catching an air of sympathy upon seeing Donatello's pain.
Don opened his eyes a crack, barely lifting his head, and tried to make his voice sound at least a little healthy. "April, I am so drugged up right now I can barely move. I took like, five different things just to get down here and see what disaster my brothers were cooking up."
"Maybe you should go back to bed" she pleaded, but Don only shook his head.
"Yeah, Don, you look like hell" Casey added.
"Gee, thanks" Donatello retorted, closing his eyes tightly before sneezing into yet another tissue.
"I got it under control" Raphael growled "I can handle this on my own."
That made Donatello laugh heartlessly until a fit of coughing gripped him. "That's what I'm afraid of" he said, smiling weakly with his head resting on the back of the couch.
"Donatello, if it makes you feel any better, I have agreed to aid your brothers whole-heartedly on their mission" Leatherhead added.
"Of course you are" Donatello glared "and what mission might that be? The whole 'get revenge on Bishop and save the world from Shredder' crusade isn't even close to what I had in mind. I wanted to plant a virus into Bishop's mainframe so I can shut his monster-hunting goons down for a while. We were supposed to be getting payback for the Lair so we could live in peace!"
"You could still do that Don! We're gunna leave for the city an' you can plant your virus thingy from April's apartment" Raphael retorted.
But Donatello only shook his head and frowned. "No… I can't. Someone has to deliver the virus from the inside, and I can't. I'm too…"
"Too what?" Raphael pried, but Donatello only closed his eyes and shook his head again.
"Never mind! I don't want to help your stupid mission. It's completely bogus anyway. Just forget it!"
"Don… that's not what I meant… Don… just stay here an' we'll talk about it."
But Donatello was already halfway across the living room, making his slow attempt to storm back upstairs and sulk.
"Raphael, you're a selfish bastard!" he seethed "I'm sick as a dog and all you want me to do is go on some stupid mission with you!"
Now Raph was mad. He stood up with his fists clenched and glared his brother some venom of his own. "Fine! Then don't help us. I was gunna wait till you got better, but whatever Don. If you're gunna be that way, fine, have it your way."
"Fine! Then I will! I'm not going back to the city, so just leave me here and have fun on your suicide mission!"
"Go back upstairs before I punch ya face in!" Raphael roared, gesturing rudely to the stairs.
"Go to hell!" Donatello fumed, trudging slowly up the stairs, wishing he could make his way quicker, if only for the dramatic effect. When he disappeared, Raphael turned on his heels and stormed out the front door, slamming it unceremoniously behind him.
"Geez… what's their problem?" asked Casey.
Michelangelo shrugged. "That's Don when he's sick. He hates being babied and he hates being left out. I guess he's mad at Raph for talking to you guys without him. He really has a thing with that time/space doohickey."
"I think something else is going on" April said thoughtfully. "I think I'll go talk to him for a while, ok guys?"
Everyone in the room nodded, grateful they weren't the ones who had to talk to Don when in his present not-exactly-pleasant state.
April tapped softly on the wooden door, but when no answer came, she opened it a crack and peeked in.
"Donny?"
Again, no answer. Swinging the door wider, she saw the room was empty. It only took her a second to realize Don was in the bathroom again, probably still trying to hold back the urge to lose his lunch. So she sat on a bed and waited in the cool darkness of the room where the winter light filtering in from the drawn down shades made it comfortable and cool.
When Donatello stumbled in, she got to her feet and pretended he hadn't caught her daydreaming.
"Don?" she said soothingly, holding on to the turtle's shoulders to steady him as he sloughed off into bed and pulled the covers over himself.
"What happened down there?"
But Don only turned to his side and pulled the covers closer, giving her a only soft shrug.
"The Donatello I know would always want to help his brothers, no matter how farfetched their plans are. This isn't just about being sick, is it?"
For a while, Don didn't answer as he formulated it in his mind. Do I really want to tell her?
But when he felt her soft touch on her shoulder, he felt like he could melt away. Slowly, he shook his head, trying hard to hide the tears that stung his eyes.
"Oh Don, what's going on. You know you can tell me" April said softly, her face drawing closer to his.
"I…"
But before he could answer, the door flew open with a bang and Raphael huffed in, lingering in the doorway for a moment before storming inside, a little embarrassed for causing an awkward moment. The way April jumped away from Don as if he had burned her made him turn his eyes away to the floor.
"I… just came ta get these" he said, gesturing to Leonardo's katana leaning against the nightstand. As he walked over and snatched them up, strapping them to his back, he straightened and glared at his little brother.
"We're goin' now. You Change your mind about not comin' with us?"
Donatello opened his eyes and pretended he didn't care. He shook his head and stared back emotionlessly. "No" he said stiffly, trying not to let his inner self betray his true feelings. He was far to proud to ever show that openly.
"Fine then, have a nice life" Raphael growled sarcastically over his shoulder as he stormed back out of the room, slamming the door shut behind him.
The sound made both of them flinch and Donatello winced a little.
"I didn't know they were leaving now."
"Neither did I " April said with a faraway look.
"Are you going to leave me too?"
April's eyes grew wide as she saw the helplessness in Donny's own eyes. He seemed so young, so feeble. She wrapped her arms around him and cradled him like an infant, feeling the warmth of his silent tears soaking through her T-shirt. "Of course not" she whispered into his ear "never."
And Donatello returned the embrace, fighting back the memories of crushing, because this is something that he needed, like a gasp of fresh air after holding a breath. He needed her so badly he felt like he would die.
"April… it's not like I don't want to help them, because I do. They just… wouldn't understand. I don't think I'm ever going to leave this place. I don't think I'm going to be able to help them ever again. I can't… I'm too…" Then he paused, choking back his tears as April quicly brushed them away with her fingertips.
"Too what, Donatello? What is it?"
"Weak" he whispered. "I'm too weak."
Feeling her own tears springing into her eyes, she held her friend tighter, burying her face in the crook of his neck. "Oh, Don" she whispered "you are the strongest person I know."
But Don slowly shook his head, barely able to form the words that pained him so much to say. "No… not anymore."
And slowly, April pried herself away, staring deep into her friend's hurting eyes. "You know that's not true" she said "you still are the strongest person I know."
"But… I can barely even walk on my own… I keep getting sick and… It hurts, it always hurts" he gasped, feeling the dull pain of the tender muscles under his shell and plastron that ached more than ever, reminding him of the weakness that gripped him. His torture, his curse.
Then, April slid off the bed, smiling kindly in the half-light. Her simple beauty making him forget it all because for that one moment, she was his.
"Who said anything about that?" she asked, smiling softly and turning for the door. She rested her hand on the door handle and lingered there, just a moment, to look back to her friend's pain-filled eyes. "I'm going to talk to Raph and Casey before they leave. Try to get some rest, ok?"
Smiling, Donatello nodded and closed his eyes, listening to the door clicking softly behind her.
"Thanks" he said weakly as he slowly lost himself to sleep, slipping away into sweet, impossible dreams of her.
"Are we goin' or are we gunna just stand around like a buncha idiots?" Raphael barked impatiently, his breath showing in the cool winter air as he watched Leatherhead load what he believed to be an unnecessary amount of equipment into Casey's van. "When you're through with that there won't be any room for us."
"I assure you, Raphael, it is all absolutely necessary" Leatherhead promised, hefting a particularly heavy bag of obscure equipment into the remaining trunk space and slamming the hatch down behind it.
"We ready now?" Raphael groaned, barely able to stand still for a moment longer. His muscles tensed as he shifted from one foot to another, the cold biting at his skin, and the itch for a fight coursing through his veins. He needed to get to Bishop as quick as he could and unload some major steam before he really exploded. Just imagining the four hour drive back to the city was killing him.
"Where's Don an' April?" Casey asked, searching around for any sign of them.
"Don ain't comin'. Says he'd rather stay here than help us."
"I am sure there is more to the story, Raphael" Splinter interjected.
"Not really" Raphael growled, hating himself for being so mad at his little brother. But his anger told him he deserved it.
"Then where's April? April!" he hollowed through cupped hands back to the house, his breath hitting the air in white, misty clouds.
"Shut up ya goon!" Raphael yelled back, but when April came trudging through the snow from the front door, they both stopped.
"Right here" she gasped frantically, trying to catch her breath.
"You comin' or what?" Casey asked, pretending they had been waiting for her for ages.
April shook her head. "No, I'm going to stay here with Don. I think that if we program the virus from here, we can send it to Leatherhead and he can put it through the system."
"It is probable" Leatherhead agreed.
"Great" April smiled, handing the giant croc a black square bag. "Take my laptop with you then. We can send it through to you that way and you can use the network cable to plug it into any available computer connected to the mainframe inside Bishop's headquarters."
"Yes" Leatherhead nodded "I will try my best, April, thank you."
"You sure you're not comin' Ape?" Raphael pried.
"Yes, I'm sure. Donny needs me here and I can help you guys just as much from Leatherhead's computer then I can back in the city."
"Ok, suit yourself" said Raph over his shoulder as he swung into the passenger's seat.
After much struggling to get Leatherhead to fit in the back seat, everyone was settled in for a very uncomfortable ride.
"Babe?" Casey called, leaning out the driver's side window. April skipped over to her husband and kissed him sweetly on the cheek.
"You take care of yourself Casey Jones. Don't go getting yourself killed!" she said, peering in through Casey's window, she addressed the rest of the crowd "That goes for all of you, ok!"
"Don't worry 'bout it, April!" Raphael said from the passenger's seat. "As long as truckin' Leatherhead around doesn't make tha van break down… then I just might hafta kill somebody."
Everyone chuckled a little despite the nervous tension that filled the air. Where they were going, what they were about to do was dangerous, even deadly, and all the joking around in the world couldn't chase away the dark cloud that hung over all of their heads.
Casey started up the engine and smiled at April standing there in the snow. "Love ya babe!" he called before rolling up the window.
April smiled and waved, mouthing the words in exchange as she watched Casey's van struggle through the snow-covered driveway, turning down the country road, and disappearing through the trees.
And there she stood, alone in the knee-deep snow, listening to the far-off rumble of Casey's overtaxed engine until the sound faded into the cold winter air.
And it killed her inside to know that now, all she could do was wait.
