This chapter picks up immediately where the last one left off.
The gang stopped for celebratory Chinese food and took it back to the Lair. Donatello ate with one hand while working with the other. He was building an interface so that he could hook his laptop up to the antenna and transmitter components. Normally, he didn't eat and work at the same time, but he was too hungry not to eat, and too intrigued and excited not to work. Unfortunately, he wasn't paying attention to the quantity of food he was consuming.
"Where are the egg rolls hiding?" Mikey asked as he looked under discarded bags.
"I believe they all made their way into Donatello," Raphael chuckled.
Don looked up in surprise. "Oh, did I eat them all?"
Raphael smiled and nodded, forgivingly.
Donatello apologized. "Sorry, they were easy to grab with one hand. I guess I wasn't keeping track."
"It's okay," Mikey dismissed. "And given the pile of sticks over there, and the fact that beef teriyaki is also a one-handed food, I'm guessing that I also have the answer to what was going to be my next question."
"Uh, sorry again," Don said, sheepishly.
"Crab rangoon?" Mikey checked.
"I do remember tasting cream cheese," Don admitted. He gestured to an empty box, wishing that he could melt into the floor.
Mikey picked up another empty container. "All the chicken fingers?"
"I don't think that I ate all of them," Don weakly defended, beginning to turn red in the face.
"It's true, I got one," Raphael piped up. "One. But, come share this egg foo yung."
"There's lo mein and rice left too," Leonardo encouraged, "and some sweet and sour pork."
"Okay," Mikey grumbled. "Next time we need to order more finger foods. They're the best part."
"We did order more finger food," Raphael reminded him.
Donatello felt like the worst brother in the world. It wasn't often that the guys let themselves indulge like this anymore, and he had unknowingly squandered most of it. "I wasn't paying attention. I'm sorry. If you want to place another order, I'll put on a disguise and go get it," he offered. "Get whatever you want, please. I promise that I won't touch it this time."
"That's okay," Michelangelo said with a sigh. "I know the babies had to eat too, and there's still plenty left here, really. Let's just all relax and watch the movie."
"You know, I'm pretty tired," Donatello admitted. "I think I'll sit this one out."
Leonardo looked over his shoulder. "You sure? It's sci-fi. Right up your alley."
"Yeah," Don said. "I'm going to catch some zzz's while the computer runs it's analysis on those components. I want to come at this fresh in the morning."
Raphael shrugged. "If you say so. Good night Don."
"Night Donnie," the others echoed.
To Donatello, they didn't sound particularly upset to see him go. Over the course of the next few hours, raucous laughter filtered into his bedroom. Don really had wanted to sleep. He had a headache and his back hurt. More troublesome, he'd had this cramping pain in his belly for the past several days, and it was only getting worse with time. He had hoped that lying down would help, but it didn't seem to have much effect.
Almost two hours after he had disappeared into his room, Donatello cracked his door open without anyone taking notice. When there was a break in the laughter, he called out to April. He spoke so quietly that she almost missed it. "April, could you please help me out with something?" he hissed.
April turned and saw Don's head sticking out of the bedroom door. "Sure, Don," she said, as she got up and crossed the room. "I thought you went to sleep."
"Couldn't sleep," he confessed. He let her in and closed the door behind her.
"I'm sorry. Were we being too loud out there?"
"It wasn't that." Don shrugged. "Well, not entirely that, anyway."
April looked around Don's room, wondering what he needed help with. It was full of half-finished projects, as always, but none of them looked like he'd been actively working on them just now. "So what's up?" she asked.
Don gingerly sat himself down on the bed. "See, the thing is, I've been experiencing a significant amount of abdominal pain," Don said, clinically.
The forced lack of emotion in his voice was almost as alarming as what he had said. "Oh no! Are you okay?" April fretted.
Don looked at the floor. "I'm fine. It just hurts."
April put her hand on her friend's tense shoulder. "Well, did you want me to check you out? Are you worried about early labor?"
Don faltered. "Um, I don't know. I want you to be unbiased, and not influenced by my opinion."
April understood his concern. Donatello didn't have a doctor. If anything, he was everyone else's doctor. But, real doctors don't treat themselves. April was probably the best resource that Don had, now that Leatherhead and Professor Hunnicut were gone and Splinter had passed away.
"Just lie down and try to relax," April instructed. "I'm going to palpate your abdomen, if that's okay."
Don nodded and laid back, closing his eyes after settling into the pillows. April found it funny to see him like this, with his belly on full display. He still hunched over and hid it whenever possible, even around her. This made it difficult to judge its size, but to April, it seemed much bigger than it had been a couple of weeks ago. It had gone from relatively flat to fairly good-sized with surprising speed. April kept this in mind as she conducted her examination.
She hesitated before beginning to roll Don's shirt up. "I'm sorry if this sounds rude, but I have to ask - you don't think that this could be from overeating?"
Don squinted at her. "My stomach is up here," he told her, lightly rubbing the top of his distended belly. "The pain that I'm feeling is mostly concentrated in my lower abdomen. Besides, it's been gradually increasing over the past few days. There's no correlation to when and how much I eat."
"I'm sorry," April repeated. "I know that you're self-conscious about your appetite, and I didn't mean to imply that you're eating too much. I just didn't want to hurt you by mistake."
Don settled back down. "It's okay," he muttered.
Using both hands, she gradually worked her way over his whole belly, applying firm but gentle pressure. She wasn't sure exactly what she was looking for, she just hoped to figure it out when the time came. "You said that it hurts mostly on bottom? Is it focused on the center or the sides?" she asked after a while.
"All over," Don answered. The quiet sound of his voice was nearly drowned out by boisterous laughter from the living room. "It really hurts, April," Don said, attempting to draw her attention back after she glanced towards the door.
"I know it does," April soothed. Don seemed worried that she suspected him of trying to manipulate her into staying with him. Of course, she knew he would never do that. If anything, Don always attempted to deflect attention away from himself, particularly where his health was concerned. "Is it just your belly, or does your back hurt too?" April asked, to reaffirm her commitment.
"My back always hurts," Don complained. "My plastron often does too, since it started popping out more. But, that's more of an achiness in the plating. What I'm feeling now is deeper and more intense."
"Does this more intense pain move from your belly to your back?" April clarified.
Don shook his head. "No."
"Does it move at all?" April wondered.
"No," Don said again. "It's generalized."
April looked at him. "But worse on bottom?"
"Yeah," Don breathed.
April moved her hands to his mid-lower plastron, right at the base of where his belly was now popping out. "Down here?" Earlier, she had felt what might have been a muscle spasm in that area, but Don was so tense that it was hard to tell.
Don simply nodded, and covered his eyes with one muscular arm.
"Did you try running an ultrasound?" April asked.
"Yes. There was nothing suspicious, at least as far as I could see," he mumbled, tiredly. "We can do another one if you want."
April pursed her lips. "Scale of one to ten, how bad is the pain?"
"I don't know. Maybe a five or six," Don assessed.
Apri nodded. That wasn't too bad, assuming that Don wasn't downplaying things. "And, it's not coming and going?"
Beneath his arm, Don shook his head 'no.'
April pressed a bit more firmly. "Is it worse when I do this?"
"A little," Don squeaked. Again, laughter came from the other room, and Don tensed.
"Okay. Please try to relax," April instructed. His plastron was still rigid enough that it was tough to feel anything through it. When he tensed like that, it was practically impossible. April began lightly running her fingers along the affected area. "You seem to have gotten a lot bigger since the last time I saw you."
"I know," Don whimpered.
"But you're still training and patrolling and working in the garage and in the lab?" April verified.
"I'm accommodating my condition whenever possible," Don said, defensively.
April leaned back. "Maybe so, but your babies are growing fast now, and you right along with them. You're asking too much of your body, Don."
Don finally lifted his arm so that she could look him in the eyes. "But, you don't think I'm hurting the babies, do you? It's not premature labor or anything?"
"I don't see any evidence of that." April took Don's hands and guided them to the area she had been focusing on. He gasped in surprise and opened his brown eyes wider. He looked so vulnerable. April feared that he was close to tears, and kept her own hands over his. "Do you feel that? I think your lower abdominal muscles are in spasm. They must be strained from being displaced and carrying all this extra weight. You've got to give them a break and learn to rest more."
Donatello grimaced and rubbed the sore area. His thick, calloused fingers weren't as sensitive as April's, but now that she pointed it out, he could feel the muscles spasming. "What if I can't find time to rest?" he whimpered.
April frowned at that. "You'll continue to hurt. It'll probably get worse."
"Just me, though? Not the babies?"
"Just you. You matter too, though, Donnie," April reminded him. "You seem to forget that."
"Okay," Don sniffed, before putting on a brave face. "Well, I thought it was just round ligament pain, so I guess we agree that it's nothing dire."
April made it a point to keep her hands over his, so that he couldn't dismiss her. There were times that it occurred to her that he was very much alone in this. Don had always been independent, but that didn't make him immune to loneliness, and what she saw right now was a scared, lonely kid. He wasn't getting the support he needed at home, and he was embarrassed, but he was doing his best to reach out to her. Donatello never asked for much, but she could tell that he needed her now.
The sound of laughter from outside Don's room echoed through the air once more.
"I'm fine here, if you want to go back to the others. Sounds like they're having fun," Don said, with an unmistakable air of melancholy.
"You could go back too, you know. It was you who left the party," April correctly pointed out.
"I'm fine here," Don repeated. He was pretty sure that it had only become a party after he had left.
"Then, I'm fine here too," April stated firmly, "unless you want to be alone, that is."
"No. I just know I'm not any fun to be around right now," Don moped. "They shouldn't be burdened with me, and you shouldn't feel obligated to stay and babysit me."
"Don, you're my best friend!" April exclaimed. "You're not a burden or an obligation. I enjoy being around you! You do know that, right?"
"I didn't know that I was your best friend. I mean, obviously, you're mine, but I didn't know that I was yours." Don pulled a hand loose to wipe his suddenly teary eyes.
"You are, kiddo," April said, lovingly. Poor Don was really struggling. He always had stunk at taking care of himself. He was the type of guy who put everyone and everything else first, and just pushed his own needs aside. She'd seen it time and time again with him. Heck, she could probably ask him to fix her computer while he was in the throes of labor, and he wouldn't turn her down or even bat an eye. He couldn't afford to ignore his own needs at a time like this, but he wasn't going to change on his own. April decided right then and there that she had to be more proactive about looking out for him.
"You know, Casey and Raphael get together every Friday. Maybe we could make that our time. I really enjoyed hanging out with you and Angel, and talking babies. We should do that again."
"Maybe," Don said quietly. "I don't have a lot of free time, though."
"Well, that's part of the problem, isn't it?" April observed. "You need to prioritize rest and relaxation. Anyway, if time is an issue, I can come to you. Maybe I can even help out with some of your projects."
"That would be nice," Don admitted. He'd been feeling so overwhelmed lately.
April stuck around until Donatello finally fell asleep, and even watched over him for a little while after. She hoped that he would be feeling better in the morning.