DISCLAIMER: I don't own 'em, what else is there to say?
A/N: Sorry if the chapters are kinda short, but I'm having writers block with this story for some reason. Please review people!!
CHAPTER SIX
Murder, murder, murder. That one word tumbled around in Don's brain as he walked briskly down the street, not really sure where he was headed.
What have you done Donatello? He asked himself, you accused your own brother of murder when you know the whole thing was an accident! But for some reason he couldn't help it…the words just slipped out.
He let out a long-suffering sigh and kicked a pebble down the street. He wished Splinter was around; he would have calmed things down-calmed Raph down.
He'll be gone for another week, then he'll back in a fortnight," he reminded himself as he passed a hot dog vendor. The vendor stared at Don curiously; he must have heard him talk to himself.
I can't go back home-not now. I can't face anyone at the moment. Don's shoulders slumped and a feeling of loneliness washed over him.
Another thought crossed his mind then and his face brightened, " Why not?" he asked himself, " I'll just tell her I popped by to see if she got home okay." he started walking in a different direction, feeling more cheered.
* * *
Naomi answered on the third knock. She'd been half afraid it was Sarah. If Sarah saw her with the bruise and cut lip, she'd jump to all sorts of conclusions and Naomi was no mood for twenty questions.
The visitor was someone she least expected though. It was Don, dressed in his trench coat and hat and looking as though the whole world was on his shoulders.
" Donatello? What's up?" she asked, her brow furrowing. " Has something happened?"
" No…I mean yes-kinda." he fumbled for the right words, " Can I come in?"
" Sure." she stepped aside and he entered the hallway.
" Nice apartment." he said, a bit lamely.
" Thanks…but it's not as good as my old one. It's smaller and the wallpaper is peeling in the kitchen and the neighbours are nosier then my old neighbourhood. It doesn't feel like home-yet." she paused, " Would you like a drink? I just made a fresh pot of coffee."
" No thanks." Don followed Naomi into the small kitchen and looked around. She was right; the off-white wallpaper was peeling in the far corner.
" What's up anyway Don? You look as though the world is about to end." Naomi mad herself a cup of coffee and they sat down at the table, which had a pretty lilac-coloured tablecloth over it.
" I had a fight with Raphael," Don confessed, " I said something horrible to him and he didn't take it well."
" I'm not surprised." Naomi said, " What did you say to him?"
Don hesitated, " I'm not sure you'd want to know."
" Try me," Naomi encouraged him taking a careful sip of her coffee, her brown eyes fixed on his face. He suddenly felt uncomfortable under her penetrating gaze, as if she was seizing him up.
Don told her what happened, " The thing is, I did not really mean it because I don't believe Raph killed him…I know in my heart it was an accident." Or do I? He wondered.
" I see." Naomi said putting her mug down, " But you accused him of murder anyway."
" I was wrong to accuse him," Don admitted.
" Look, sometimes words are meaningless, it's what we do that counts." Naomi said matter-of-factly.
Don nodded but didn't say anything. What Raph did counted a lot, and sooner or later Raph would realise that he really IS guilty of murdering Matthew Garland and he would have to face the consequences…
A/N: Sorry if the chapters are kinda short, but I'm having writers block with this story for some reason. Please review people!!
CHAPTER SIX
Murder, murder, murder. That one word tumbled around in Don's brain as he walked briskly down the street, not really sure where he was headed.
What have you done Donatello? He asked himself, you accused your own brother of murder when you know the whole thing was an accident! But for some reason he couldn't help it…the words just slipped out.
He let out a long-suffering sigh and kicked a pebble down the street. He wished Splinter was around; he would have calmed things down-calmed Raph down.
He'll be gone for another week, then he'll back in a fortnight," he reminded himself as he passed a hot dog vendor. The vendor stared at Don curiously; he must have heard him talk to himself.
I can't go back home-not now. I can't face anyone at the moment. Don's shoulders slumped and a feeling of loneliness washed over him.
Another thought crossed his mind then and his face brightened, " Why not?" he asked himself, " I'll just tell her I popped by to see if she got home okay." he started walking in a different direction, feeling more cheered.
* * *
Naomi answered on the third knock. She'd been half afraid it was Sarah. If Sarah saw her with the bruise and cut lip, she'd jump to all sorts of conclusions and Naomi was no mood for twenty questions.
The visitor was someone she least expected though. It was Don, dressed in his trench coat and hat and looking as though the whole world was on his shoulders.
" Donatello? What's up?" she asked, her brow furrowing. " Has something happened?"
" No…I mean yes-kinda." he fumbled for the right words, " Can I come in?"
" Sure." she stepped aside and he entered the hallway.
" Nice apartment." he said, a bit lamely.
" Thanks…but it's not as good as my old one. It's smaller and the wallpaper is peeling in the kitchen and the neighbours are nosier then my old neighbourhood. It doesn't feel like home-yet." she paused, " Would you like a drink? I just made a fresh pot of coffee."
" No thanks." Don followed Naomi into the small kitchen and looked around. She was right; the off-white wallpaper was peeling in the far corner.
" What's up anyway Don? You look as though the world is about to end." Naomi mad herself a cup of coffee and they sat down at the table, which had a pretty lilac-coloured tablecloth over it.
" I had a fight with Raphael," Don confessed, " I said something horrible to him and he didn't take it well."
" I'm not surprised." Naomi said, " What did you say to him?"
Don hesitated, " I'm not sure you'd want to know."
" Try me," Naomi encouraged him taking a careful sip of her coffee, her brown eyes fixed on his face. He suddenly felt uncomfortable under her penetrating gaze, as if she was seizing him up.
Don told her what happened, " The thing is, I did not really mean it because I don't believe Raph killed him…I know in my heart it was an accident." Or do I? He wondered.
" I see." Naomi said putting her mug down, " But you accused him of murder anyway."
" I was wrong to accuse him," Don admitted.
" Look, sometimes words are meaningless, it's what we do that counts." Naomi said matter-of-factly.
Don nodded but didn't say anything. What Raph did counted a lot, and sooner or later Raph would realise that he really IS guilty of murdering Matthew Garland and he would have to face the consequences…