The trip to the farmhouse wasn't working out like Donatello had hoped that it would. While this vacation had been intended to alleviate stress, it was only adding to it. Everyone was right on top of each other all the time, and arguments just seemed to fester instead of being resolved.
In desperate need of some time alone, Donatello decided to tinker with an old tractor that had been rusting away in the barn over the course of the past several decades. He figured that if he couldn't get along with his family, at least he could do something useful for Casey and April.
It was a beautiful summer day, and after a few hours of work, Don took a break for a late morning snack. He took a leisurely stroll down to the orchard and grabbed a few apples. There was a little pond used for irrigation, and Don decided to sit near it for a while. He admired the view as he spent a few minutes stretching out his achy back, then he carefully lowered himself to the tall grass, extending his green feet out into the water in front of him.
Don sighed and took in the sight of his swollen abdomen. After staying on the small side for so long, it now seemed to be growing exponentially. Its rapidly increasing size served as a constant reminder of how far along he was, and how much he needed to accomplish prior to giving birth.
Don knew that he had to start planning in earnest. He still hadn't decided where to put the nursery. He really needed to figure it out soon, because it was high time that he started building the cribs, and they would need a place to go. The babies couldn't sleep in his room forever. Should he give up his lab and convert it to a nursery, or move his room to the lab and give the babies his bedroom? What about feedings? Would the babies be able to drink from regular human baby bottles, given that they would have beaks? Did he need to modify them, somehow? And what about diapers, for that matter? Would they fit securely enough over a shell to remain watertight? Would it be best if the babies wore clothes in the beginning to stabilize their body temperature? Then there was… basking.
Don's scales were slowly heating in the sunlight, the bright light washing out his vision. It felt so nice. So relaxing…. He leaned fully back onto his shell, one arm behind his head. His other hand continued to feel the growing curves of his belly, as he focused on the fluttering movements of the new lives within it. They seemed awfully worked up. Could they feel the warmth of the sunlight too? Don relaxed more and more, his constantly buzzing mind going almost blank for once. This was the vacation that he had been wanting so badly. The air was filled with birdsong and the sounds of water lapping. The subtle scent of blooming flowers reached his nose from the nearby meadow. For the first time in a long time, he was fully at peace.
After a half an hour of relishing life's simple pleasures, Donatello dozed off. He awoke sometime later to the sound of his brothers' voices. He was about to sit up and say hello when he realized that they were talking about him. He knew that it was wrong to listen, but he couldn't help it. Only Raphael and Michelangelo were there. Leonardo must not have come.
"If anything, this week has proven that we are not ready to be parents," Raphael was growling.
"But you saw him with the fish!" Michelangelo replied. "His daddy instincts are totally kicking in."
"It was irrational," Raphael argued. "Don's gone bonkers."
"Aw. You're just bitter because you didn't get to eat it!" Michelangelo answered. "He's just gonna be a protective dad."
"I hardly think that's the case, given that he refuses to seek proper medical care," Raphael barked. "Besides, aside from the mood swings, he doesn't seem like he's changed much at all."
"That's not true!" Michelangelo disagreed. "I've seen him trying to cook."
"That's one thing! I don't see him reading any parenting books, or making any plans for raising them. Nothing like that," Raphael pointed out. "He's the same old Don, locked up in his lab all the time, focusing on nothing but his projects while ignoring everything else."
Donatello cringed. It was like Raphael had seen inside his mind, then given voice to all of his self-doubts and insecurities.
"It's not like we know what he's up to in there," Michelangelo countered. "He's probably made all sorts of stuff for the babies. He built that ultrasound machine. We know he's putting stuff together for the birth."
"And that's where it all ends," Raphael said flatly. "Because we all know that's as far as he goes. It'll be up to the rest of us to raise them. Don knows it, and we know it."
"He's not going to die!" Michelangelo yelled.
"Why do you think he did that to me with the fish?" Raphael asked. "He wants me to be kinder and gentler like him - a better father. He knows that he's not going to be around, so he's trying to soften me up."
"You're reading way too much into that," Michelangelo said, sounding rather shaken. "Donnie doesn't think he's going to die, and he's not trying to change you!"
Raphael laughed bitterly. "Believe you me, he's trying to change us all. Transforming us into parents is just about the biggest change we could make."
"It's not like this was his choice," Michelangelo said.
"Maybe not, but it's his choice to keep them," Raphael bellowed. "He doesn't give a damn what the rest of us think, or what the rest of us want, and that includes those kids!"
All this time, Don had been waiting for a chance to pipe up and reveal his presence. He realized now that it was too late. Even though he hadn't intended to eavesdrop, there was no way that he could make himself known now. So, he sat and listened to Raphael unload on Michelangelo about how Don wasn't involving them in decisions and wasn't prepared for parenthood, how he was risking his own life and not considering the wants and needs of his brothers and future children.
Don didn't know that Raphael still felt this way. He thought that many of these matters were settled. But now he realized that they were only settled in his own mind. Raphael just sounded so unhappy, and Michelangelo sounded nothing like himself. He didn't joke at all; he defended Don tirelessly. Clearly, Michelangelo had replaced Don as Raphael's confidante. It was a bittersweet revelation at best.
Don wondered if there was any repairing the damage to his family. Raphael was clearly unhappy and frightened to his core. Michelangelo sounded too old and too tired. And Leonardo - he just seemed desperate to hold it all together, but at a loss for ideas about how to do so. And, it was all Don's fault, he realized. Worse, he had no idea how to fix it.
After his brothers left, Don snuck out of the orchard and took the short walk to his father's grave. He could tell that Leonardo had recently been there. The gravel was freshly raked, and blue flowers were placed on the unmarked stone. Don added some orchids he had picked from the pond's edge, then he carefully took a seat.
"Hey, Dad," he whispered. "You're not going to believe it, but you're going to be a grandpa."
The babies responded to the sound of Don's voice. He could feel them moving within him and put a hand on his swollen plastron. "The grandkids say hello."
Don nearly choked on a sob he wasn't expecting. "Oh, Dad. I wish you were here now. You'd know what to do to make things right."
Don spent a few minutes thinking, trying to meditate in his own way, perhaps even to commune with his father's wise spirit.
"Am I a terrible brother?" he asked aloud. "What if… what if I'm a terrible father? How did you learn how to be a good parent?"
Splinter started life as just a simple rat from the sewers. It couldn't have come easy for him, but he had somehow mastered the art of raising children. Donatello had never thought to ask his father for parenting advice when he was alive, because, well, who would have ever thought that he would find himself in this position? It was so heartbreaking that he would never have the chance to talk to his Dad again.
"What if… what if I die too?" Don rubbed his belly. It was getting so big, and he still had months to go. Maybe he was being foolish to believe that he would be okay. He felt so tired and sick all the time. If he did die, maybe he would at least get to see his Dad again.
Don was met with only silence. "We miss you so much," Don whispered into the wind. "I miss you so much."
That night, Donatello hesitated before taking his dose of hormones. He wondered if they were doing this to him - making him behave differently, making him forget how to laugh at himself and relate to others. For the first time, he considered not taking them. But then, he felt that stirring within him. He couldn't risk hurting his babies. It was only another three or four months. Don told himself that things would be okay. He just had to work harder.
Don decided to drive on the way home. He figured that it would be the best way to allow the others to relax, and also to provide a distraction for himself so that he wouldn't get too emotional.
"I'm sorry if that wasn't the best vacation, guys. Feels like I'm saying 'I'm sorry' a lot lately, but I am. I'm sorry," Don began. "If there's anything that you want to get off your chests, let's say it now so that we can have a fresh start once we get home."
"Where's Leo's talking stick?" Raphael grumbled.
"I'll start," Don said firmly. "Listen, I'm not dying. I'm not trying to change anyone or force my decisions onto you guys. If you want me to go, I'll go."
"Go where?" Michelangelo wondered.
"Wherever you want," Don replied. "Usagi's world, or whatever."
"What about the Triceraton?" Leonardo asked.
"I guess I'd just have to trust Bishop to handle them," Don answered. "My blueprints for the EDS are in pretty good shape. The prototypes appear to be working properly. Valeria has access to all of my notes and plans. EPF can fully take over, if they need to."
"We don't want you to go," Michelangelo spoke up.
"Speak for yourself," Raphael snapped.
"Raph!" Leonardo chastised.
"No," Don interrupted. "It's okay. Let him talk."
"I've got nothing to say that hasn't already been said," Raphael went on. "I know I said that I'd trust you, but to be honest, I don't think you're okay. I think that you need a damn doctor! This whole thing with you and April just muddling your way through and hoping for the best is ridiculous, and shame on the rest of us for just turning a blind eye to it. What's more, I don't think the babies will be as happy here as they could be somewhere else. I don't think we're ready to be parents."
Don puffed out a breath and glanced downwards. "I am, believe it or not. My place is with them. But, I'll go wherever you guys want me to. I don't want to destroy this family."
"We all belong together," Leonardo said with a smile. "We're not going to send you into exile. Wherever we go, we go together."
Don got a little teary. "Thanks. It means a lot to hear you say that. I know I've been hard to live with, over-emotional."
"That's putting it lightly," Raphael observed.
"It's the hormones," Don explained. "Combined with all the stress I've been under, they're making me crazy. But that's only temporary, and I'll try to do better in the meantime."
"So do we get rid of this stress by heading over to Usagi's world?" Raphael encouraged. "Let earth fend for itself for a little while?"
"I don't want to go," Michelangelo spoke up. "New York is our home. I don't want to leave it unprotected from Hun and the Triceraton. I'd miss our Lair and my comic books and video games. Usagi's world is so boring."
"If you weren't sitting all the way over there, I would slap you," Raphael mourned. "You'd let Donatello die because you don't want to give up video games?"
"Don has more tech to take care of his medical needs here!" Michelangelo defended. "Isn't that right, Donnie?"
Don frowned. He wanted to stay in his home too, but voicing that seemed like backpedaling. "My equipment to monitor myself and the babies is in good shape. April and I are doing well with the birth plan. So far, I've been okay. I would prefer to stay in New York too. But, I don't want to insist that it has to be my way. What do you think, Leo?"
"Mirai admitted that she did not know much about reptiles," Leonardo replied. "And, you do seem to be doing okay so far. The babies are all healthy. You're still active and on your feet."
"We're staying!" Michelangelo cheered.
"But, I do think that you'll need surgery," Leonardo said, firmly. "I know that you have a plan, and that April is smart and capable, but, that really scares me, Donnie."
"It scares me too," Donatello admitted. "But I don't think that Mirai would be any better than the options that I have here. I get the impression that surgery is really an option of last resort in Usagi's homeworld."
"Maybe we can think about it more as the time gets closer. It's not like this is an emergency situation yet," Leonardo decided.
"An emergency can happen just like that," Raphael said with a snap of his fingers.
"I know," Leonardo agreed. "But, let's not forget that Bishop doesn't want to lose Don and the babies either. Scary as it sounds, he's probably still our best bet if a medical emergency arises."
Don removed a hand from the steering wheel to protectively clutch his midsection. "He'd take my babies." A shiver ran down Don's spine. "After all the stunts I've pulled, I'm sure he would."
"But, you'd probably all live," Raphael countered.
"Let's just think on all of this," Leonardo decided. "For what it's worth, we might've actually made some progress, here."
"We're staying in New York!" Michelangelo cheered.
Don smiled to himself. He was just happy that they were staying together.