Don's work on the Earth Defense System was coming to a close. It wasn't exactly done yet, but most of what was left could be handled by the build team, and the programming was being spearheaded by Valeria at this point. Don still spent a few hours a day on it, which was way down from his previous level of 'nearly constant.'
He was a little surprised when Valeria called him. It had been a while since he had heard from her.
Valeria cut straight to the chase. "Don, your friends in New York must have repaired their equipment. They're transmitting again."
Don had noticed the deep-space signals emanating from Earth as well, but they had hardly come as a shock. He had figured that Hun wouldn't be satisfied to lay low and keep quiet forever. "I know. I still can't translate the messages though," he replied.
"Well, we can," Valeria announced.
Don perked up. "You cracked the code?"
"I'm afraid so. The news isn't good. Bishop's instincts were correct. Earth is being targeted," Valeria announced, clinically.
At this point, Don wasn't surprised. "At least the Earth Defense System is almost ready for prime time. A few more months and we should be good to go. Do you know if we have that long?"
"That's where Hun's crew comes in," Valeria answered. "Apparently, the Triceraton needed some allies on Earth to help suppress any uprisings during the early stages of the invasion, so they hired Hun to recruit soldiers for them. He's supposed to let them know when he's organized a large enough group. That's when the Triceraton will make their move."
Don's blood ran cold. "Oh jeez. Well, at least we aren't going to be caught off guard."
The tenor of Valeria's voice changed. "Bishop is sending a team to New York to spy on Hun. He asked me to go too. Now that we've cracked the code, we might be able to stave off the invasion. If we can seize the communication equipment, I can send the Triceraton a message saying that they've been foiled and that Earth is ready to fight them off. I can tell them not to come, warn them that we're prepared to destroy any ship that dares to enter our solar system."
Don took in a breath. "That sounds awfully dangerous, Valeria."
"But it just might work, right?" Valeria said, slyly. "Plus, it would be nice to add 'badass spy' to my resume."
Don couldn't help but grin. "I had no idea that you had this taste for danger."
"Maybe you rubbed off on me a little." The fondness in Valeria's voice was unmistakable.
"Just, promise me that you'll be careful," Don replied. He wanted to make arrangements to meet her, even to help out. But, he couldn't let her see him in his current state.
When the call ended, Valeria couldn't help but feel a little crestfallen. She was really hoping that traveling to New York would give her the chance to see Donatello again. She missed him a lot. But, he hadn't invited her over, or even acted excited that she'd be in the area. She understood he may not want to risk being recaptured by Bishop, but still… Maybe they weren't as close as she thought they were.
Donatello called Leonardo to fill him in. If Bishop was after Hun, it was best that the turtles keep a low profile. Leo also needed to know about the increased likelihood of invasion. The conversation was little more than an exchange of facts and a terse goodbye.
The next day, Donatello awoke with a groan, having slept like crap the night before. He would've loved to have stayed in bed, but his stomach and bladder insisted otherwise. Reluctantly, he began the slow and painful process of sitting himself up and getting out of bed without hurting himself or anyone else in his care. "I'd really appreciate it if you guys went easy on me today," he begged of his unborn. "Dad had a rough night." Moving around was getting harder and harder with each passing day.
Don dragged himself into the kitchen, holding onto his increasingly heavy belly the whole time. The nice thing about living alone was that no one was around to tease him about his pronounced waddle or to poke fun at his size. The downside was that there was no one to help him out. He had so much left to do before the babies came, and getting anything done was so difficult when he was this tired and in this much pain all the time.
After eating as much as his squashed stomach would allow him to, he gathered his equipment and dropped to his knees in front of the sink with a pained 'ack.' Everything in this place was built for Leatherhead, and Leatherhead was quite a bit taller than the turtles. This meant that everything needed to be brought down to size. Don couldn't keep using step stools, especially with his balance as compromised as it was. And, if he waited, the babies would be keeping him too busy to finish. Even if he tried working while they slept, the sound of power tools would wake them.
And so it was that Don found himself flat on his shell as he worked on the plumbing below the sink. His huge belly towered above him, preventing him from maneuvering the way he wanted to, and making the angle even more awkward.
He squirmed to and fro with ever-increasing difficulty as he worked on the connection closest to the wall. By the time he was done, the plumbing was perfect, but he was in complete agony. He backed out of the cabinet and laid on his back for a few moments, taking deep breaths and clenching his eyes shut while massaging his sides. The unfortunate thing about having a shell is that once you hurt your back, there's nothing to be done about it. Backrubs and heating pads are nice in principle, but they don't penetrate far enough to do any real good. By the feel of things, he was going to be down and out for the next few days.
Finally building up enough courage to attempt to move, Don carefully rolled onto his side, choking out a strained breath as he did so. He took a few more minutes to gather himself. He didn't know how he was going to make it onto his feet without causing himself further pain. "Any ideas?" he asked his unborn. They had no advice, so he rolled onto his hands and knees, bending his elbows just enough to rest his forehead on the floor as lightning shot up and down his spine. He did eventually manage to make it to his feet, but he could only get as far as the sofa before his legs gave out entirely. His strained back just couldn't handle any more movement.
April found him asleep on the sofa a couple of hours later. She placed a gentle hand on his belly, causing a ghost of a smile to cross his face as he hummed in contentment. Even in sleep, he looked exhausted. She didn't want to wake him, so she set about unpacking the supplies she had brought, and cleaning up a little. When she was done, she noticed he was watching her with half-lidded eyes.
April grinned. "Hey, sleepyhead. How are you doing?"
Don yawned and rubbed a hand up and down his side, testingly. "Honestly, not so good. I threw my back out and now I can hardly move."
"Oh no," April said in alarm. "How'd you do that?"
"Working on the plumbing," he explained. April approached and for a moment Don expected a hug. Instead, he was met with a punch in the arm. Typical of how his life was going lately.
"Ow! Why did you do that?" Don cried with genuine hurt in his tone.
April crossed her arms to keep herself from doing it again. "You should've left that for Casey or I, Donatello! You're in no condition!"
"I'm sorry," Don whimpered. "I'm used to doing things on my own. You know that."
"Fine, well, no need to apologize, I guess," April relented. "Just promise me that you won't do anything like this again without telling us first."
"Okay. I don't think that will be a problem. Feels like I'm going to be down and out for a while," Don admitted.
"It's bad?" April asked, putting a hand on his shell.
"Yeah," he winced. "It really hurts." April rubbed his shell for a few minutes. Don sighed and enjoyed the much-needed affection for a bit before piping up. "April?"
"Yeah?"
"I've been stranded here like a beached whale for the better part of the afternoon. Do you mind getting me something to eat and drink?"
She laughed warmly at how utterly helpless the once-mighty warrior sounded, giving him a final pat on the shell. "Sure. Anything in particular that you want?"
"Milk and a peanut butter and jelly sandwich or two? Please?" he said hopefully.
"Milk with PB&J?" she teased. "Just because you're carrying children doesn't mean that you need to eat like one. I can make you something better."
Don closed his eyes, still feeling miserable. "Milk is good for the babies' bones and the PB&J is just a craving. Plus it's cheap."
April set about making the sandwiches. While she worked, Don updated her on the latest developments with the Triceraton.
"What'll we do?" April asked.
"I don't think there's anything to do," Don assured her. "The Earth Defense System is in good shape. Valeria said that Bishop is using my designs to build other weapons as well."
"That's comforting, I guess." April handed him the sandwiches and milk, then began slicing up an apple.
Don took a bite. Chewing while laying down was hard, but given the stabbing pains beneath his shell, he was scared to sit up. Drinking while laying down was even harder, but April had been smart enough to give him a straw.
"Even if the Triceraton started moving in on Earth today, it would still take them months to get here," Don explained. "There's nothing to do but wait, and trust the Earth Protection Force to do its job."
April put the sliced fruit on Don's coffee table and placed a warm towel on his side to help with the pain. "I don't trust Bishop, but I'd bet my life on you," she said with a smile.
Don made a content little noise deep in his throat. He hoped that April could keep him company for a while.