Leonardo took stock of his troops and didn't like what he saw. Raphael was able to move his arm again but wasn't back in fighting form. Donatello looked exhausted and undeniably pregnant, as he unhappily sipped his tea. Michelangelo was physically okay, but his face was far more solemn than usual. He'd been in a bit of a funk ever since being forced to clean up after the garbage explosion a few nights ago. Perhaps he had been in a funk even longer than that, and Leonardo just hadn't noticed because of all his other problems.
Leo suppressed a sigh as he took his seat around the breakfast table with his family. Michelangelo leaned back in his chair. "You know what we need is a vacation," Michelangelo grumbled.
Raphael laughed bitterly. "Oh, yeah. That's exactly what we need. To be even more on top of each other." Everyone knew that Raph was going stir crazy after being cooped up in the Lair because of his injury. He was the type of turtle that needed fresh air and freedom.
"Think about it, dude," Michelangelo urged. "We could unplug, hang out, just get away from all these bad feelings."
Donatello spoke softly. "You know, I sent my latest EDS schematics to the build team out at Area 51 yesterday. Hun is out of commission for the time being. Now would be the perfect time for a vacation."
Leonardo snapped his head up. At this point, he hardly even expected to hear from Don at all anymore. The genius was constantly working or holed up in his bedroom. "Maybe it would be good to… hit the reset button, so to speak," Leonardo considered.
Donatello perked up a little at the positive reinforcement. "It's still hot enough to go swimming." The idea of feeling weightless for a little while sounded pretty darn good to him.
Michelangelo stood from his seat. "We could have campfires, maybe do some hiking, or take the raft out!"
"Forced family togetherness," Raphael huffed.
"You don't have to go if you don't want to," Michelangelo snapped.
"Far be it from me to rain on this parade," Raphael countered. "Besides, we'll need someone to drive the second vehicle containing all of Donatello's food. I'm not sure he can fit behind a wheel anymore and goodness knows that Michelangelo is unfit for the roads."
Don pretended not to be offended, despite how much it hurt him. It was probably intended as a joke.
"So, you do want to go?" Leonardo asked, cutting through Raphael's tough-guy routine.
Raphael responded with a "meh."
"He's excited, I can tell," Michelangelo said, dryly.
"I'll call Casey and see if we can head up on Sunday," Leonardo decided. "That'll give us some time to pack."
"You think Don will still be able to squeeze himself into the van if we wait that long?" Michelangelo joked.
"Very funny," Don snipped. The look on his face was enough to make Mikey feel like crap.
"Seriously, though, are you feeling up to the drive?" Mikey asked, softly. "I know you say you're feeling better, but you still get sick a few times a day, and the ride back from Area 51 was… not pretty."
"I'll manage," Don answered, dismissively. "And given that yes - I can still fit behind the wheel, maybe I'll take the second car. That way none of you will be forced to ride along with me."
"Don't be so cranky," Raphael requested. "We're just messing around."
Don stubbornly maintained his grumpy demeanor. Leonardo put his arms over Don and Raph's shoulders. "This'll be good guys. It'll get us talking, and we can really work on rebuilding our bond and planning for the babies."
Raphael broke out of the hold and swatted Leo's arm away. "You're going to turn this into some hippy feel-good wilderness retreat, aren't you?"
Leonardo grinned wickedly and rubbed his hands together. For the first time in a while, Don genuinely laughed. This was going to be good, to spend time together and get everything on the table.
Packing for this trip was really strange for Don. He hadn't realized how much secret eating he'd been doing until he began going through his room and lab and deciding what to bring. He left most of his hidden food stash behind since he wouldn't have any privacy for pigging out, but he did bring some treats to share with his brothers. He packed his hormones and a deeper than usual first aid kit.
What was really weird was planning out clothes. The turtles had one outfit each, and they usually didn't bring them on trips. Given that Don was shedding and feeling very embarrassed about the size of his belly, there was no way that he was being seen in his natural state. It was easy enough to toss a bunch of tee-shirts into the suitcase, but he had no idea what sort of bottoms to wear.
The sewers were cool, even in the summer, and the turtles only went above ground in the evening, after the sun had set. It was easy to get away with wearing long pants if he was hanging around the Lair. But, it was August, and the farm was hot, and also lacked air conditioning. Don didn't think he'd be comfortable in heavy clothes, but the idea of wearing shorts seemed ridiculous. Furthermore, he had every intention of swimming, but had no idea what to wear. There was no bathing suit in his current repertoire.
As hurtful as it was to his male ego, he decided to call April for fashion advice. She'd need to do the shopping anyway, since Don couldn't show his mutated face in a store and there wasn't enough time to order clothes online. Don certainly wasn't paying extra for expedited shipping. The turtles were practically broke at the moment.
"Hey, Don! I hear you guys are heading upstate?" April greeted.
Don smiled at the sound of his friend's voice. "That's why I'm calling, actually. I'm trying to figure out what to pack. Do you have any idea what sort of shorts men are wearing these days?"
April burst out laughing. "What?! Don't you think that's more a question for Casey?"
"Not sure I want Casey giving me fashion advice. He'd probably have me in a speedo, along with his signature hockey mask and muscle shirt," Don griped.
"Good point, but you've got to admit that he wears them well," April purred.
Don put his face in his hands. "May I remind you that just because I'm knocked up doesn't mean that I want you to think of me as one of the girls. I'm not going to ogle Casey with you."
April laughed. "Sorry Don."
"Eh, that's okay. But, back to the testosterone-laden topic of summer maternity fashion," Don chuckled.
April laughed too, then cleared her throat. "I don't pay much attention to mens' shorts, I'm afraid."
"Other than Casey's," Don quipped.
"Yes," April affirmed. "But, what do you say Casey and I go to a department store and buy you whatever we decide is appropriate?"
"Yes!" Don cheered. "I'll also need more elastic paneling to sew in, and please get yourself dinner on me as a thank you."
"It's okay, Don. I know money is tight. You don't need to worry about paying us," April kindly offered.
"No, it's okay," Don assured. "I'm working the IT line tonight. Let me treat you."
"Well, if the IT line doesn't send you running from the city, nothing will," April joked.
Don looked at the clock. It had just hit midnight, which meant that he was halfway through the 8-4 shift that he had registered for. This time of night, the calls were inevitably about the same, rather unpleasant topic. Don hit the button to connect another call. "Midnight lonely hearts club. This is Don from New York. What's ailing your computer tonight?"
"Lonely hearts club?" his customer repeated.
"Just a little IT humor," Don assured. He found that it helped to put his customers at ease early on, because the trouble that people ran into this time of night tended to be rather… personal in nature. "So, what seems to be the problem?"
"Well, I was watching some, um, adult content, and this pop-up appeared saying that someone had activated my webcam and recorded my, um...session? This is so embarrassing."
"No need to be embarrassed," Don soothed. "This is something that's been making the rounds. It's usually nothing."
"I hope so. Because the pop-up said that it would email the video to everyone on my contact list unless I paid them off," the customer continued, his voice raising with panic.
"It's okay. I'm here to help," Don said calmly. "Is the pop-up still there?"
"No!" the man yelled. "I couldn't respond in time because I, you know, I was kind of in the middle of something and it took a minute to pull myself together. By then, the pop up was gone!"
"Has your computer been acting fine since then?" Don asked. He then muted the phone and pounded his chest. His heartburn was raging tonight. He was beginning to suspect that Bishop was using him to breed dragons.
"Yes," the man answered. "But, I haven't really done anything."
"Okay, well, if you're willing to give me control of the computer, I'll log in to see if the webcam has been active," Don suggested. "That'll get us to the bottom of this."
Don was met with silence. He realized he forgot to take the phone off mute, and blamed it on pregnancy brain. "Help me out here, dragons," he requested. He gave his belly a pat before taking the phone off of mute and repeating his request.
The customer let Don take over his computer. Sure enough, the webcam hadn't been active, and there was no sign of malware. "You're in the clear," Don assured his customer. "Please try to enjoy the rest of your night."
"Maybe not quite so much, though," the customer joked.
"I don't judge," Don said in parting. He took a minute to stretch his back and eat a banana that he hoped would tame his heartburn. He sat back down, and reclined back in his seat. He frowned at how much his belly stuck out when he was in this position. He put a hand on it and connected another call.
This time, the caller started talking before Don could utter a witty greeting. "I was in the middle of… you know… and a pop-up appeared saying that my webcam had recorded it! If my wife finds out she'll kill me!"
Don looked skyward with resignation. "Calm down sir. It'll be okay." It was going to be a long night.
The following morning, Don had intended to call his brothers into the lab so that they could watch him perform an ultrasound prior to the drive upstate. But in the end, he had chickened out, since it would have required him to show them his bare stomach. Instead, he printed out some still photos and packed them in his suitcase.
April had stopped by and given him the clothes that she and Casey had purchased. Don had put the bags aside and added a portable sewing kit. Raphael was driving the van, and Leonardo was riding shotgun to help navigate. Don kept his hands busy on the drive by adding elastic panels to the waists.
Michelangelo was sharing the backseat with Don. "You sure that'll be enough elastic?" Mikey asked.
Don couldn't tell if it was an honest question or if it was meant as teasing, so he gave his brother the benefit of the doubt and answered seriously. "No, but I can't imagine that I'll be wearing them much after this trip, so I think I'll be fine."
"Probably, but you're getting bigger fast now," Michelangelo observed.
Don furrowed his brow. "I know, Mikey. We don't need to talk about it."
Mikey was baffled by that answer. He liked to talk
about everything. "What? Are you scared?"
"This hasn't exactly been fun for me. And no, I'm not looking forward to getting bigger." Don released a breath. "Frankly, I'd rather not think about it."
"You still want the babies though, right?" Mikey checked.
"Of course," Don said immediately. "I just don't like being, uh, carrying them. I mean, I'm sure it will be worth it, but it's definitely not fun."
Speaking of not having any fun, Don was starting to feel car sick again. He put his sewing aside, placed both hands on his middle, leaned back, and closed his eyes.
Michelangelo saw what was going on and dug through his bag. "Would some peanut butter crackers make you feel better?"
Don opened one eye. "That depends. Did you put anything weird in them?"
"Nope, plain old wheat crackers and creamy peanut butter."
Don smiled. "Thanks, Mikey."
Don nibbled on a cracker, and it settled his stomach a little. "Hey, do you want to see some pictures of the babies?"
"Dude, you've got pictures? Why are you just telling me this now?!" Mikey roared.
Raphael was momentarily distracted and hit a pothole. Donatello yelped in pain and clutched his back.
"Sorry," Raphael grumbled. "But for the love of… no sudden yelling, please!"
Don kept one hand on his back and dug through his bag with the other. He found the envelope with the pictures and handed it to Michelangelo with a wince.
"Oh, are these them?" Mikey squealed, more quietly.
"Yeah." Don grinned as he watched Mikey open the envelope. His nausea spiked again, and he realized that he was nervous. This was the first time anyone in his family would see the babies. He finished his cracker and dropped both hands back to his belly, rubbing it a little as he intently watched his brother.
Mikey eagerly gazed at the first photo. "Is that… a head?"
"That's the shell," Don clarified. "See the shape? This is my favorite picture because it shows parts of all three. That bump right there is one of the second baby's arms holding onto the back of the first baby's shell."
"They're hugging!" Mikey interrupted.
"Yeah," Don said warmly. "And that thing floating on the other side of the photo is the third one's foot."
"Oh, cute foot!" Mikey bubbled. "Two toes just like us!"
"Well, they are our kids," Don noted.
"Any pictures of their faces?" Mikey asked as he flipped to the next photo, which was a close up of a three-fingered hand.
"Just keep flipping," Don encouraged.
"What the heck is this?" Mikey balked.
"Heart," Don explained. "Nice and healthy."
"A face! A face!" Mikey hollered.
Raphael swerved. "Mikey!"
Don moaned and held his back.
"Sorry. I'm so sorry, but you've got to see these," Mikey proclaimed.
"I will, when I'm not driving," Raphael grumped.
"If you can't control yourself, Mikey, you're going to need to put those away. This strikes me as a nice activity for the four of us around the dinner table later," Leonardo said.
"Finnnne," Michelangelo huffed. He put the pictures back into the envelope and handed it to Don, who tucked it away. There would be plenty of time to show them off later.