Michelangelo hadn't been aiming for Donatello's place when he left for an evening run, but somehow his heart and his feet took him there anyway. He slowed as he neared the sewer runoff that led to Leatherhead's old place. Mikey was drawn forward as though hypnotized. He gave his next movements almost no forethought whatsoever.
He used the old security code to turn off the alarm system and open the hidden doorway. Soon, he was standing at the foot of his brother's bed, his presence having gone completely unnoticed. Casey was hovering over Don, busy arranging a multitude of pillows.
"Donnie?" Mikey whispered, almost reverently. Donatello gasped and immediately began groping for the blankets. He managed to blindly locate the corner of one and pulled it up to hide his middle, clutching it desperately to his chest like a shield.
"What're you doing here, Mikey?" Casey growled as he rose to his feet. He grabbed a pillow that he had previously been attempting to tuck beneath Don's shell and hurled it as hard as he could at Michelangelo's head. It may have only been a pillow, but there was murder in Casey's glare.
Michelangelo ducked his head and knocked it out of the air. "I was out for a run and, well, I ended up here," he weakly explained. "How… how are you, Don?"
"Let me field that one for ya," Casey roared. "He's in agony like he has been for months now, as if any of you guys could be bothered to care!"
Donatello side-eyed his friend. That's not exactly how he would have chosen to phrase things, but it was awfully nice to have Casey stick up for him.
"I do care," Michelangelo defended.
"Yeah, well ya got some way of showing it," Casey growled. "It's April and me here with him every day. You guys are nowhere to be found! God, and to think I used to be jealous of how close you all were. You abandoned your brother when he needed you most!"
"Stop it, please," Don yelled in a broken voice. "Mikey, why did you come here? Is something wrong?"
"No," Michelangelo answered, feeling guilty as sin that Don's first thoughts were that his help must be needed at home. "I know that the babies are due any day now, and we haven't heard from you in a while. I just wanted to make sure that you were alright."
With that, Don's demeanor completely changed. "Well, you have your answer because clearly, I'm not," he hissed. "I haven't been anywhere near alright since this whole thing began."
"Don," Mikey started.
"It's okay, Mikey, you can just go. You don't even have to feel bad about it because, hey, at least you showed up eventually, unlike Leo and Raph." Don attempted to turn over dismissively, but he couldn't handle his own weight. He screamed out as something gave way in his back.
"Donnie!" Casey and Mikey cried as Don writhed in anguish. Casey leaped away from the bed and ran for the kitchen, almost stumbling over Michelangelo on his way out the door.
"Move it, shell for brains!" Casey yelled, making sure to body-check Michelangelo into the door frame as hard as he could. Mikey shook it off and took advantage of Casey's momentary absence to approach Don and place a hand on his shoulder.
"Where does it hurt, bro?" Mikey implored.
"Everywhere, you dolt," Donatello snapped. "Look at me! This isn't close to natural. Everywhere hurts. Everything hurts. Especially my damn heart that you guys broke! So why don't you just go back to the Lair and leave me in the hands of my real family? I'm sure you'll forget about all of this on the walk home." Don tried to squirm to the far side of the bed, then cried out in pain again.
"Stop thrashing! You're only making it worse," Michelangelo begged as he applied pressure to Don's shoulder in an attempt to corral him.
"What do you care?" Don spat. "It's only me that's suffering. Might as well turn a blind eye to it like you always do!"
"I do care! Quit saying that I don't!" Michelangelo quickly climbed onto the bed, carefully pulling a writhing Donatello into a close hold. "I love you, Donnie. I should've come here sooner. You have no reason to forgive me, but you should know that I'm sorry."
Donatello stopped attempting to escape, partially due to his throbbing back, and partially due to sheer shock at what was going on. Casey walked in on the scene with some heating pads and other supplies. He looked at the pregnant turtle for guidance. "Do ya want me to get rid of him, Donnie?"
Donatello thought about it for a moment. A large part of him wanted to continue venting his anger at Michelangelo. He knew that he had every right to, but he suddenly found that he didn't have it in him at the moment. Even if he did, what good would further cruelty do?
"No," Don relented, shrinking down to the bed with a tired sigh. "Thanks, but I think I'd like to speak to Michelangelo in private for a while if you don't mind."
"Course not, I'll be on the couch. Just holler if you need me." Casey meaningfully handed the box to Mikey and spoke quietly, "He's really tired. Don't keep him up too long. And, if you do anything to hurt him any worse than you already have, I'm going to kick your shell from here till next Tuesday." With that, Casey left the two brothers alone.
Michelangelo looked down at Donatello, who was still panting heavily from his struggle and grimacing in pain. "I'm really sorry, Don. About everything. I know those are just empty words, but I'll prove it to you."
Don struggled to control his breathing and watched suspiciously as Michelangelo plugged in the heating pads. "Where do you want these?" Mikey asked.
Don rolled his eyes but had the decency to make sure that Michelangelo couldn't see. He knew that his brother was going to make a crack about his size, and he really didn't want to hear it. The alternative was calling Casey back into the room, but if he wanted to make any headway with Michelangelo, he couldn't do that. And, in spite of his anger and resentment, Don really did need his brothers back. "Beneath my shell, please, and then up my sides a little," Don requested softly. He moved his protective shield of blankets down a bit.
Donatello saw Michelangelo's eyes widen when he caught a glimpse of how big Don had gotten, but to Mikey's credit, he kept his mouth shut. Don groaned as he lifted his heavy body off the bed just enough to allow Michelangelo to slide the pads beneath him. The movement stole what little breath he had regained. Don sealed his eyes shut, not wanting to look at Mikey. Much to his surprise, he felt his brother's strong arms come around him and gently pull him onto his chest. Don opened his eyes and peered up at Mikey.
"I'm so sorry, Donnie. I'm so sorry," Michelangelo whispered. "Thanks for letting me stay."
Between the pain, the exhaustion, the shock of having Mikey show up, and the fact that one of his brothers had finally found it in their heart to embrace him, Donatello lost his composure and heaved a sob into Mikey's chest. "I forgive you. I'll forgive you for anything if you just promise me you'll stay. Don't leave me again, Mikey, please. Please don't leave me," he begged. He knew how pathetic he sounded, and he hated himself a little for it. He was just too weak and too tired to hold back.
"Shhh, I won't leave you. I promise," came Mikey's wavering response. "I don't deserve such easy forgiveness, though. We should at least talk about what happened."
Don nuzzled against his brother's plastron. "I don't have the energy to hash this all out right now. Besides, the only real way to prove that you're sorry is to stick around. I just need you here with me now. The rest doesn't matter anymore."
Mikey realized just how deeply his poor brother must be hurting by the way he swung so rapidly between anger and open desperation. That talk definitely needed to happen but forcing Don through that right now seemed akin to torture in Mikey's mind. "I'm not gonna leave you. I'll stay right here with you for as long as you want," Mikey soothed.
Don's only response was a moan of pure relief and another heaving sob. Michelangelo began shushing him again. "It's okay, Don. Shhh, it's okay." He pulled his brother closer, momentarily forgetting about his condition. The unexpected weight and the pained gasp that Don issued brought Mikey back to reality. "Oh shoot, your back! I forgot. I'm so sorry."
"It's okay," Don groaned as together they arranged the heating pads. "You meant well."
Donatello sighed as he settled back into Mikey's chest, careful to keep his belly as far from his brother as he could, for fear of freaking him out. It was an awkward angle, but Don didn't care. He was willing to endure the discomfort if it guaranteed that Mikey would stick to his promise and stay.
They laid there for a bit while the heating pads worked their magic. Mikey's grip on his brother never lessened, and soon an exhausted and greatly relieved Donatello dozed off in Michelangelo's arms. Mikey rubbed Don's shell and shoulders as best he could, hoping to lure his brother into a deeper sleep.
Once he was sure that Don wouldn't wake up, he called for Casey and asked him to text Leonardo and let him know where he was. The last thing he needed was Leo thinking he was dead in a ditch somewhere. Michelangelo promised Casey that he would stay, and told him to go home to April if he wanted to. Apparently, Casey still didn't trust him, as he refused to leave. Michelangelo would have to work on repairing that relationship as well.
As the night wore on, Michelangelo dozed off himself. He woke sometime later, still caught in a hazy, dreamlike state. Don was still fast asleep, softly snoring, even drooling a little onto Mikey's chest. Normally he'd be grossed out, but Don seemed to need this badly, so Mikey just dabbed it away as best he could with the sheets.
Don didn't stir, and Michelangelo found himself gazing thoughtfully at his brother's swollen plastron. Even in his sleep, Donnie was trying so hard to keep it away from Mikey. His shell was arched as much as possible, and his body was twisted at an odd angle. Mikey could see that Donnie had somehow managed to shove a pillow beneath his stomach in a desperate bid for support. Perhaps it was also intended to serve as a barrier between them. Donatello must have done it after Mikey fell asleep because Mikey certainly didn't remember it being there before.
Michelangelo's tired mind went back to the day that Don had been so excited about the babies moving, only to be rebuffed and rejected by all of them. Mikey would never forget the shattered look on Donatello's face when Leo snatched his hand away. In hindsight, it seemed so cruel. Why couldn't they see what they were doing to poor Don? How had it come to this? Mikey was so overcome by remorse, he found himself slowly reaching out, as though feeling the babies now would undo everything somehow. If only it would be so easy.
Michelangelo lightly touched the side of Don's distended abdomen, surprised again at its size. Don was getting pretty big when he left, but now he was just plain huge. It looked incredibly uncomfortable. Mikey fumbled around a bit but was disappointed not to be able to feel any movement. He reached a bit further and inadvertently jostled Don awake. The snoring stopped and he felt his brother begin to stir.
"Mikey?" came Don's groggy voice. "What are you doing?" The pointed tone as Don finished the question made it clear that he suspected Michelangelo was trying to sneak away.
Michelangelo sighed. "I didn't mean to wake you. I was just hoping to feel one of the babies moving. Guess they're all asleep though, like we ought to be."
Don frowned in disbelief, and Mikey gave him a reassuring squeeze, just to make it clear that he had been moving closer, rather than further away. It had the intended effect; Don relaxed and chuckled a little. "They're almost never all asleep at the same time." He took Mikey's hand and moved it up and to the right. "Try here. This one's always the most active."
Sure enough, Mikey was rewarded with a firm kick to the fingers. He was surprised by the strength of it. "Wow!" he said as he looked back to Don, who was watching him intently. "You're carrying a real future ninja, there!"
Don smiled tiredly. "Believe me, I know."
"It's amazing, Don," Mikey said as he continued to feel the kicks through Don's oversized sweatshirt. "Does it hurt?"
"Yeah, after a while. I still think it's amazing too, though." Don didn't bother to mention the broken rib. Instead, he yawned and snuggled happily against Mikey's side. "This means the world to me, you know," Don said quietly.
"I'm sorry we let you get so low that a little affection is this big of a deal to you. I shouldn't have let it get to this point. I should've been here for you all along," Mikey said sadly.
Donatello sighed. Michelangelo was correct about that, but Don wasn't ready to discuss it quite yet. He was too scared of driving Mikey away. "Thanks, but I've been more worried about my kids. Sorry to say this out loud, but I've felt pretty unloved lately, and it's made me feel all the more sad for them. They'll be all alone in this world, just like we were. They need people to love them, other than just me. Because if something were to happen…" Don trailed off.
Michelangelo inadvertently clenched his hand, causing Don to wince. "You think something is going to happen to you?" he said in alarm.
"No," Don answered automatically, before correcting himself. "I don't know. I've just been worried."
Michelangelo was confused. "About the birth? You seemed so confident before."
"That was before," Don said wistfully.
"Well, what's changed?" Michelangelo asked, suddenly wide awake.
"The size of me, for starters," Don said sadly. "It's a little intimidating. And maybe it's the depression talking, but it just feels like these kids are sucking the life out of me. I don't have the energy to get out of bed half the time, never mind somehow birthing three babies. I'm scared, Mikey."
Michelangelo was scared too. It was hard to look at Don, to feel the size and weight of him, and pretend that it would be an easy birth. Not only that, but Don's exhaustion was almost palpable. Mikey had hoped that a good night's rest would help, but that seemed like wishful thinking. Don was the type of exhausted that couldn't be fixed by a night or two of sleep. Still, thinking back to previous conversations, Don had always known that a natural birth might not be possible. "We can always just take them out surgically though, right?"
Donatello chuckled. "You make that sound like no big deal."
"But you've been preparing, right? Researching and planning and all that other stuff that you're so good at?"
"Well yeah," Don replied as he wriggled his achy body around a bit. "There's a plan, but April's no surgeon and the sewer is no hospital. A lot could go wrong."
Michelangelo took advantage of Don's squirming to pull him back into an embrace. "You've got to believe that it's all going to be okay. Visualize a successful outcome, like Master Splinter taught us."
"Okay, okay," Don appeased. "Just promise me that you'll be there for them. I mean, I understand that I have no right to ask you, but-"
"Of course, I will," Michelangelo pledged. "They're a part of you. How could I abandon them?"
Donatello laughed bitterly. He tried to suppress it. He really did. It took Michelangelo a minute to figure out what was going on. When he did, he joined in the laughter, only because it hurt less that way. "Well, just because I abandoned you doesn't mean that I'll abandon them," he defended. "I'll be here for all of you guys, I promise."
With that, Mikey moved in as close as he could without disturbing Don's bad back and held his brother tight. In turn, Don pulled the pillow out from beneath himself and tossed it aside. Whether it was the laughter or movement, he didn't know, but all three of Don's babies had erupted into a flurry of activity. Don rolled fully onto his side and cuddled against Mikey. He groaned in frustration and ran a hand over his plastron, clearly wanting to calm his unborn down enough that he could go back to sleep.
Wanting to help however he could, as well as reinforce his promise to look after his nieces or nephews, Mikey rubbed circles over Don's swollen midsection. He didn't know how Don could even hope to rest with all of this going on inside of him, but he soon let out a shaky sigh and relaxed against Mikey's side, blissfully unconscious.
If you guessed that it would be Mikey showing up, give yourself a round of applause. It was really nice to hear from so many of you!