Don hid out in the bedroom and inadvertently dozed off. The nap was very much needed, but he was upset to see that Usagi was gone when he woke up. Maybe he really was rude. He sat down at the kitchen table and wrote thank you/apology notes to both Mirai and Usagi. Leonardo promised to deliver them that evening.
But first, Leo wanted to talk. This trip was supposed to be about bonding, after all. Since the turtles had a tendency to talk over each other and vie for attention, Leonardo created a 'talking stick,' and explained that only the person holding it could speak. The others had to listen.
"Ain't that from a movie?" Raphael asked.
"It's from Native American culture," Leonardo explained.
"Pretty sure it's from a movie," Raphael insisted.
"I have the stick," Leonardo said as he shook it. "No talking. Unless you'd like to go first, that is."
Surprisingly, Raphael extended a hand and took the stick.
"Okay, well, I just want to say that I understand that both Don and Mikey want to raise the babies on earth, and I gather that things didn't go so well with the healer this morning. As much as this scares me, I'm just gonna keep my mouth shut from here on out. I'm gonna trust Don to keep himself healthy, and trust April to watch over him and help out with the birth. In the meantime, I want to help out as much as I can around our home so that Don can relax and focus on his health and getting ready for the babies." Raphael took a breath. "And for what it's worth, I may not be much of a baby-person, but I'm not going to hate the kids or anything. I mean, I wouldn't choose any of this, but it is what it is."
With Raphael apparently done, Michelangelo frantically gesticulated that he wanted the next turn. Raphael grimaced and handed over the stick.
"This is supposed to be a fun vacation. Do we really have to ruin it with these boring exercises?" Mikey looked accusingly to Leonardo, who could only throw his hands up defensively, since he wasn't allowed to speak, as per his own rules.
"When did we all decide to stop having fun? I get that we need to talk, but it'll just come naturally if we let it. I mean, think about it - we could all be fishing right now, or swimming, or hiking, or whatever. Why do we choose to sit around and do this on a beautiful summer day, especially after this morning's fiasco?"
Donatello blushed and Leonardo motioned that he wanted the talking stick, but Michelangelo sighed and kept on going. "I get that the babies are a serious topic, but Don seems healthy enough to me. If he says he's okay, we should trust him. Stress is bad. Fun is good. Let's just relax and have fun. That'll help with our bond more than this." Mikey shook the stick in his hand.
Don reached out and took it. "Mikey's right. I'm all for listening to whatever you guys have to say, but when you get right down to it, everyone seems to be mostly worried about my health. You guys need to trust me when I say that I'm okay. The best thing that I could do for myself right now is to de-stress. So, I'd really love for us all to just take a swim. Can't we just hike down to the lake and talk on the way?"
Don handed the stick to Leo, since this was his exercise. "No one wants to do this then?" Leonardo asked. Everyone shook their heads no. "Fine. Let's just go to the lake. We've got a couple of hours before sunset. We'll pack hot dogs and roast them over a fire for dinner."
"I can't have hot dogs. Too many nitrates. But, you guys go ahead. I'll make myself some sandwiches." Don got up and went to the fridge.
"Please go easy on the supplies," Raphael requested. "We just got here, and I don't want to have to go to the store tomorrow."
Don huffed. "I'm making two sandwiches. I won't be using all ten loaves of bread."
"Fine. I'm just saying. We'll be there for a few hours," Raphael pointed out. "You're going to want more than just two sandwiches."
"I'll bring some apples," Don replied. "No store required. And, this is something that I've been meaning to talk to you about. I'm sensitive about my eating, okay? I'd appreciate it if you guys kept your food-related comments to a minimum. And, your size-related comments, for that matter."
Raphael raised an eye ridge. "Really? Since when are you so uptight?"
Don turned a little red in the cheeks. "I'm just sensitive right now. I'm doing my best when it comes to eating, and my size is out of my control. It's going to get worse before it gets better, and there's nothing that I can do about it. I'd rather not have the constant reminders."
"Okay. I'm sorry," Raphael said. "Didn't mean to hurt your feelings. It was only supposed to be playful. Seemed better than ignoring the elephant in the room."
"Raph," Leo said warning.
"What?" Raph asked innocently. Then it dawned on him that it had been a poor choice of phrase. "Shoot, Don! I didn't mean it like that!"
Don just turned back to making his sandwich. "Whatever you say," he grumbled.
The guys hiked out to the lake, making idle chit chat along the way. Once they arrived, Raphael set about fishing, determined to catch himself something better than a hot dog for dinner. Leonardo picked a seat in a secluded spot along the shore and dropped into a meditative pose. Don and Mikey splashed off into the water and swam out a few hundred feet.
"Want to know a secret?" Mikey asked when they stopped paddling.
"What?" Don wondered.
"I'm afraid of snapping turtles," Michelangelo said with a hearty laugh. "I'm always so relieved to get out of the shallows."
Donatello laughed too. A turtle that was afraid of turtles. "They could probably bite a toe off without much trouble," Don admitted.
"Not helping!" Mikey cried. He splashed Don for good measure.
Don let him get away with it. It felt so nice to be in the water. His body had been aching so much lately, but he didn't want to monopolize the Lair's only bathroom by taking baths. His feet were sore from the walk up, and the weightlessness and cool water felt amazing. Don sighed in contentment and floated quietly for a few minutes.
"Do you think the babies will have superpowers?" Michelangelo asked.
Don opened one eye. "Huh?"
"Like snapping turtle jaws or whatever? Bishop did create them, after all," Mikey elaborated.
"I bet they'll be strong, like us," Don replied. "Given how much heartburn I've had lately, they may be able to breathe fire."
"Drink some of the lake water," Michelangelo suggested. "Maybe that will help."
"Haha," Don droned.
"What? You're too good to drink the lake water?" Mikey feigned outrage. "May I remind you that we are turtles and this is your natural habitat?"
"Says the guy who just admitted that he's afraid of snappers!" Don shot back. "And, I'm not above drinking lake water. I just don't think that it will cure my heartburn."
"You'll never know if you don't try," Michelangelo teased.
Don chuckled. "I guess it will have to remain a mystery, then."
"Speaking of mysteries," Mikey began mischievously. "Any thoughts about the babies' genders?"
"Not yet," Don admitted. "I don't think that we'll know for sure until they're born."
"But what do you want?" Michelangelo prodded, his eyes wandering to where the top of Don's belly was protruding above the water.
Don saw where Mikey was looking and let his body sink down, shifting from floating to treading water. He looked at his brother. "I don't know. A mix would be nice, I guess."
"What do you think girls would look like?" Michelangelo wondered.
Don hummed. "I would imagine that they'd look like us."
"Do you think they'd have hair?" Michelangelo continued.
"I doubt it," Don answered. "We don't, so why would they?"
"I just picture girls with hair," Mikey replied, spitting a stream of water like a fountain. "If they're girls, do you think that when they get older they'll… you know… develop like girls?"
"I don't know. Probably not, given that we aren't really mammals," Don answered thoughtfully.
"I can't imagine what that would look like," Michelangelo rambled.
"I don't know what to tell you," Don replied. "We'll just have to wait and see."
"Maybe they'll want to wear clothes," Michelangelo guessed. "Girls love fashion, right?"
"Some," Don said, growing rather weary of the conversation.
"Speaking of clothes, what's up with you lately?" Mikey asked.
Don shot him a dirty look. "I'm self-conscious about my body."
"Why?"
"Why do you think?!" Don snapped.
"Because you look different now?" Mikey guessed.
"Bingo," Don spouted in a deadpan voice.
"But the clothes are only making you look more different," Mikey observed. "You're a turtle in your natural habitat right now, and you're wearing swimming trunks and a tee-shirt for crying out loud!"
"I'm not trying to pretend I'm not different. I just… prefer to be covered up," Don tried to explain. "I'm shedding, and my body looks strange. My plastron is itchy. I just… Can we not talk about this anymore?"
"Fine. Sorry." Michelangelo moped for a minute, then brightened. "Any thoughts about names?"
Don cringed. "Not really."
"What?" Mikey cried. "You'd better get on that!"
"I know, I know," Don said. "Can we be done with the 20 questions? I'm just trying to relax."
"I didn't realize that I was bothering you," Mikey pouted. "I'll be quiet."
Michelangelo adopted a spread eagle position and floated silently. Instead of feeling relaxed, Don began to feel guilty. He knew that Mikey was just being Mikey. "Sure is nice out here," Don said after a few minutes.
"Yeah," Mikey agreed, still looking skyward. "You ever think about moving out here? Might be better for the kids than the sewers."
There was another heavy question Don didn't feel like dealing with. "You know, I think I'm getting a headache," Don realized. "I might go sit on the shore for a while. Nothing personal."
Mikey watched his brother swim back. He wasn't sure if Don was just making an excuse to ditch him. When he got to the shore, Don sat down in the shade and rubbed his temples. Eventually, Don curled up and fell asleep in the sand. Leo checked on him and then joined Mikey in the water.
"Aha!" Raphael hollered triumphantly.
Don snapped awake. "What!"
Raphael proudly showed off a five-pound largemouth bass. "I finally caught something worth keeping." The fish was thrashing as it dangled on the line. "Can you hold this for a minute while I dig the knife out of our bag?"
Donatello reached out and took the line. The fish stopped struggling for a moment. Don made the mistake of looking into its eyes. It's gills opened and closed desperately, and it began to thrash again. Don looked to Raphael. "What are you going to do with the knife?"
"Filet it, knucklehead," Raphael answered as he rummaged through the bag. "You didn't think that I was going to eat it whole, did you?"
"No, but what… what if it has a family?" Don whimpered.
Raphael looked at Don as if he had two heads. "You serious?"
Don didn't answer, but Raphael couldn't help but notice that Don's lower lip was quivering.
"Fish don't even have families!" Raphael bellowed.
Don rubbed his aching forehead. "How do you know?"
Raphael groaned. "Even if they do, you eat fish, Donatello. Sushi is your favorite food, for crying out loud!"
"Don't remind me how much I miss sushi," Don moaned.
"But you don't want to eat this fish?" Raphael attempted to understand.
"I don't want it to die," Don replied.
"Are we seriously having this conversation?" Raphael wondered. "We're ninjas. It's not like we haven't killed anything before!"
"I don't think I've ever killed!" Don defended.
"How do you know?" Raphael mimicked Don's question of a minute ago.
"I'd know, wouldn't I?" Don wondered.
"I know I'm killing this fish." Raphael celebrated as he found the knife.
"Don't!" Don begged.
"Will you get a hold of yourself? We're not vegetarians, and you knew I was fishing for my dinner," Raphael pointed out.
"But look at it," Don cried as he held the fish higher. "It's innocent and defenseless."
"So was the tuna in the sandwich that you ate yesterday," Raphael noted. "Besides, we're trying to save money on food."
"What does a hot dog cost, 50 cents?" Don asked. "I'll pay you back."
Raphael crossed his arms. "Way more than one animal died in the making of that hot dog. I promise you that."
Don took to his feet surprisingly quickly and scrambled towards the lake. "Don't you dare!" Raphael yelled. Don was a half step ahead, deftly unhooking the fish as he booked it towards the water. Raphael reached out an arm and grabbed Don's wrist.
Don managed to fling the fish into the water before grasping his back and yelping. Raphael let go of Don's wrist, and Don clutched his back with both hands.
"I can't believe that you did that!" Raphael yelled.
"My back," Don whined. "That hurt."
"You deserved it," Raphael reasoned. "If you were anyone else, I would've tripped you."
Leonardo appeared on the shore, having just swum back with Mikey. "What's going on?" he demanded.
"I caught a fish, and Donatello here took it upon himself to release it," Raphael explained.
"Why?" Leonardo asked.
Don was still rubbing his back. "I just didn't want to see it die."
"This pregnancy is making him crazy," Raphael complained.
"Is your back okay?" Leonardo asked. Don shook his head no, and Leo helped him sit down.
Raphael snatched his pole up from the sand and stalked off. "I can't believe you're taking his side," he yelled at Leo.
"I'm not taking anyone's side," Leonardo insisted. "I'm just worried about his back."
Raphael stopped walking and turned around. "I didn't do anything to his back!"
"No one said you did," Leonardo pointed out.
"My back will be fine," Don spoke up. "I just stopped too fast. And, Raph will be fine if he has to eat hot dogs for dinner."
"I intend to catch another fish, Donatello," Raphael announced as he shook the fishing rod.
"Just don't show it to me, and we won't have any issues," Don suggested.
"You sure?" Raphael spat. "Seems we never can tell what you're going to take issue with lately."
"Just go," Don dismissed. After Raphael obeyed, Don groaned and shifted his position in the sand in the hopes of easing his pain.
"So is there anything you want to tell me?" Leonardo asked as he placed a hand on Don's shell. The genius had always had a soft heart, but this was over the top, even for him.
Don didn't feel like talking, but he figured that he'd better, if he wanted to salvage the afternoon. "I'd been having a bad dream right before Raph woke me up. I guess I just overreacted."
"What were you dreaming about?" Michelangelo asked as he came to sit in the sand.
"Bishop stealing the babies from me. I couldn't save them." Don chuckled sadly. "Then suddenly I was awake and face-to-face with that fish, and it seemed so helpless, just like them."
"Oh, Donnie," Mikey gushed. "Did you think that fish was one of your babies?"
Don laughed and rubbed his back. "No. I was awake enough to know better. I just… couldn't let it die."
"You should explain to Raph that you had a nightmare," Leonardo suggested. "He'd understand."
"Raph will cool off," Mikey countered. "What you did is no worse than the stuff that I do to him on a regular basis."
"Yes, and then he comes complaining about it to me." Don then realized something. "Or at least he used to." It had been months since Raphael had last come to Don to unburden himself. Don wondered when that had changed.