Chapter 5: Understanding

Mikey hummed as he worked. He clicked the computer mouse a few more times then sat back to view his handiwork. Beautiful. Just beautiful. Satisfied, he grinned.

"What're you doing on my computer?" mumbled Donatello, still half-asleep from a nap and wondering why Michelangelo was in his bedroom.

"Nothin'."

Don sat up, wincing a little at the sudden pain in his side. "Hmm. I don't think I believe you."

"Aw." Mike pouted, pretending to be hurt. "But I'm your favoritest little brother!"

"You're my only little brother," Don pointed out dryly. But a small smile played on his lips.

Mike smiled back. "You really wanna know?"

Don had wanted to know, but now he wasn't sure. Not with that crazy, mischievous grin on Mikey's face. Swallowing hard, Don tentatively said, "Sure."

---

April sat at home, or what used to feel like home, with a bottle of beer sweating in her hand. The cold liquid felt good as it slid down her throat. She hadn't wanted to leave the lair—had fought tooth and nail to stay—but Donatello had insisted she go home to get some proper rest. Darn him and his stupid selflessness. So, after receiving assurances from Splinter that Don would be properly watched and cared for, she had reluctantly returned to her apartment.

A sharp rapping on the window broke into her thoughts. She leapt from the couch and whirled around. A bulky, shadowed figure sat outside the window. April let out a sigh of relief. Definitely a turtle, of the mutated ninja variety. But which brother?

She made her way over to the window to unlock it.

Don? No. No, he wouldn't dare. She would kill him if he was actually reckless enough to leave the lair while still recovering. Leo? But Leo wouldn't leave Don's side for a millisecond at a time like this, she knew. Mike? Maybe Mike. Though she couldn't think of a reason why—

"Raph," April said in a flat voice, seeing her visitor clearly now that the window was open.

Raphael dropped down gracefully into the room. "Hey, April."

She glared at him, feeling utterly torn. There was anger, of course. But with the anger came guilt—this was, after all, her dead husband's best friend. The best friend who was hurting, just like her, and missing Casey, just like her. She wanted to hug him and slap him, not necessarily in that order.

"You almost killed my best friend," she accused in a soft voice.

Raph flinched. "Yeah. I know." He looked out the window he'd just entered through. "Almost killed you, too."

"I don't care about me," April said, "I care about him. If I'd lost him too … " She couldn't bring herself to finish the comment aloud, but silently thought, If I'd lost him too, I would have killed you with my own hands. And then maybe killed myself.

Raph kept staring out the window. Not moving a muscle.

"Why are you here, Raphael?"

"Came to apologize."

"For what?"

Finally he looked to her. "For everything, April."

---

Don squinted at the computer screen, frowning. "No," he said, with a finality that made Mike's heart sink.

"But Donny—"

Don was shaking his head gently now. Never a hopeful sign. "This isn't a good idea."

"No, giving April a mixed CD of love songs is a great idea."

"In what way, shape, or form, Michelangelo?"

Mike snorted and rolled his eyes at Don's use of his full name. "It's a great idea," he began very patiently, "because as much as I love you, bro, it cannot be said that you're good at talking about your feelings. Or particularly poetic. So instead of getting things all wrong, you can just let Mr. Sinatra and Mr. Presley do the talking instead. You can't go wrong!"

"But who said that this is even something I want to say to April? April is my—she's our friend, Mike, and she's—ye gods, she's practically our sister."

"Donny." Mikey's voice grew gentle, and his eyes softened. "Maybe you don't realize, but you say these things to April every time you look at her. It's all over your face how much you love her. She's just been having a hard time speaking that language, so you gotta say it in actual words."

Don looked away and muttered something in Japanese. Mike couldn't be entirely certain, as his fluency was a bit rusty, but he was pretty sure Don was cursing him.

When Don wouldn't meet his eyes, Mike hit the eject button on the CD-ROM drive, grabbed the newly-burned disc, and thrust it into Donatello's hands. "Here," Mike said with an exaggerated sigh. "Just think it over. Okay?" Before Don could answer, Mike left the room in a huff, feeling thoroughly fed-up.

For such a smart guy, his brother could be such an idiot sometimes.

---

Her eyes remained hard. "Okay, then. Apologize."

Raphael took a deep breath and tried to compose himself. He had to remember that she had every right to be angry. Every right to want to hurt him. To try to hurt him.

"I'm sorry for hurting Donny," he said. "I'm sorry because I love him, and I hate that it was me that hurt him. I'm sorry because I love you, and I hate that me hurting Don hurt you too."

She took a sip from her bottle. He guessed this was a good an indication to continue as he was going to get.

"I'm sorry for taking out my crap on you. I'm sorry I said things that made it seem like I was blaming you for what happened with Casey and Shadow, when it was my fault."

April interrupted, "It wasn't your fault."

"It was my job to have Casey's back. He always had mine."

"Still not your fault." She shook her head then gestured for him to continue.

"I don't blame you," he said, willing her with his eyes to believe him. "I swear I don't. It just hurts, is all. It hurts, and nothing I say or do makes the hurt go away. I just wish I could do something."

"Raph, I don't blame you either." For just a moment her face softened before the hard look came back in. "I do blame you for yesterday, though."

He nodded. "I blame me too." Then he grew tentative again. "I don't know why I do things like this, April."

April snorted. "Of course you do." When she saw the anger flare in his eyes before he swallowed it down, she shook her head and pointed. "Right there. That's why."

"What're you talking about?"

"What I said made you angry. But you're pretending it didn't. That's not healthy, Raph. You can't just keep all that stuff inside, or it all comes out like it did yesterday. You gotta talk about what's going on."

Raph turned away, so that he wouldn't glare at her. "You're crazy. Talking ain't gonna bring him back."

"Your apology is really starting to suck," April informed him, but Raph didn't think she sounded angry. More tired than anything. She walked into the kitchen and came back with a second bottle of beer. Then she headed over to the couch and sat down. "Come sit with me."

There was no refusing, and they both knew it. So he sat down.

---

"Sensei, I'm still angry at him."

Master Splinter took the bowl of broth his son offered and sipped lightly. "As am I, Leonardo."

Leo blinked in surprise. He hadn't expected that response. "Really?"

"Yes. Really." A ghost of a smile passed over the old rat's muzzle. "Raphael is not a bad person, but his rashness and lack of self-control almost cost the life of a son I love dearly. That such was brought about by a son I love just as dearly makes it all the worse."

"It's just—he went too far this time, Sensei."

"Yes. He did."

Frustrated with Splinter's overly-calm agreement, Leo growled and looked away.

"You disagree with how I have handled the situation," Splinter observed mildly.

"What?" Leo turned back but instead of looking into his father's eyes, he studied the intricate wall-hanging above the bed. In the soft candlelight, the gold threads woven through the tapestry glowed in a familiar, comforting way. "No, Master, I don't want you to think that."

Splinter set down his bowl on the low table beside the bed. He placed a gentle paw over Leonardo's hand. "You are free to disagree with me, Leonardo. Though you seem never to believe it, you have always been free to disagree with me. I only ask that you listen to my position and consider it."

Leo bit his lip, thinking. Finally his eyes met Splinter's steady gaze. "I am listening, Master."

"I have looked into Raphael's eyes and seen his torment. I could devise any number of punishments or give any number of lectures, but there is nothing I could do that would equal what Raphael must face every time he looks upon Donatello's face." He sighed softly. "Or the face of any of us."

"I think … I think I understand."

---

"You pulled a sai on me, Raph," April began.

"I know, and I'm sorry—"

"No!" April grabbed his wrist, startling him. "Listen to me! You pulled a sai. Because you're so pissed off, you can't handle it. What happens the next time you get that enraged? Is it going to be Mikey? Leo? What happens if we're not as lucky?"

Raph started shaking his head, quickly, too quickly. Too quickly for anything she was saying to sink in. "I ain't gonna get angry like that again. Won't let it happen."

"Life is full of things to be angry about." She paused, frowned thoughtfully, then continued, "Splinter is getting older, you know, getting sick more often. Someday he'll die too. Then what?"

His eyes went wide. His breathing grew ragged, a sure sign that he was starting to get upset.

She decided not to push him too far. She'd already pushed much farther than even Leo usually pushed. "It's time to grow up, Raphael, and take control of this. Before it takes control of you."

He stared at her, hard. His breathing was the only sound in the room, and it was deafening.

Then, one final push: "Do it for Don, if not for yourself. You owe him that much."

Finally he broke the stare and looked down at his lap, defeated. April noticed her hand was still on his wrist, and she slipped it down over his hand, stroking his large thumb with her fingertips. She took a deep, steadying breath. "I'm pissed at him, too," she offered, trying to break the ice.

"Huh? Pissed at Donny?"

"No. Casey."

His eyes clouded with confusion. "What'd Casey do to ya?"

"Same thing he did to you. He left me. He died."

---

Mikey banged the pot loudly onto the stove. It made him feel a little less frustrated. He was like Raph that way, actually—getting physical helped cool his temper. Unlike Raph, however, the cooling-down process generally worked a little faster with Mike. As he bustled about the kitchen preparing dinner, Mike already felt his frustration ebbing away. That was a way that Mike was like Don—slow to anger, quick to cool down.

"Mikey?" Leo stood there, a concerned look on his face and an empty bowl in his hands. "I heard a crash. What's wrong?"

"He can be so stubborn, Leo."

Leo laughed lightly. "Raph? Yeah, well, we all knew that already."

"No." Mike paused, then grinned despite his bad mood. "Well, actually, yeah. But that's not the brother who's being a particular pain at the moment." He glanced around the kitchen. "Y'know, I haven't seen much of Raph today, now that you mention it."

"Hope he's not doing anything too stupid," Leo grumbled. Then he cocked his head. "Wait. Don's the one being stubborn? About what?"

"About April."

"What about April?"

Mike stared.

Leo felt his face flush. "Oh. That."

"Yeah. That." Mike handed a bunch of carrots to Leo, along with a knife. "Chop these?"

Quietly taking what he was handed, Leo sat down at the counter and began chopping.

Mikey let out his breath in a deep sigh. "He loves her so much, Leo. He's always loved her. And it kills me to see him hurting and holding back."

"Maybe it's for the best. She's always been like a sister to us. And she's still obviously mourning for Casey."

Neither of them added that Donatello was a mutant turtle and not a human. They didn't have to.

Leo popped a piece of carrot into his mouth and munched thoughtfully. "Mikey, I think you need to leave him alone. He's gonna do what he's gonna do. You can't force him into anything, even if that were the right way to go about things."

"Excuse me?" Mike chuckled and grabbed the carrots from the counter. "Since when, exactly, are you a 'que sera, sera' kinda guy, Leo?"

Leo grinned. "Since I had a talk with Sensei."

Mikey grinned back. "Oh." As he dumped the carrots into the pot, he realized that his bad mood was long gone. Oh, well. It was good and grumpy while it lasted. He began humming. "Gotta love Sensei."

---

Ice properly broken, they'd spent over an hour swapping stories, drinking beer, and telling jokes.

Raph laughed so hard, his sides felt like they might split. "You shoulda been there, April! Guy mopped the floor with me. When I asked Donny to patch me up, he wouldn't stop complaining."

April laughed too. "Really?"

"Oh, yeah. 'Raph, what'd you do? Get in a fight with a garbage compactor?'" He wiped a tear from his eye. "Poor Don."

"No kidding."

"Wasn't my fault, though! The bonehead wouldn't listen to me. I told him right from the get-go that we oughta be on the same side." He shook his head, chuckling.

April leaned back into the couch. "He was so set in his ways. Always thought he was right, thought he knew best."

"Yeah. What an idiot he was." Raph smiled. "I miss him a lot."

"Me too."

Raph stood up and sighed. "Guess I'd better get going. Leo's probably having kittens, with how long I've been gone."

April stood up too. "I'm glad you came over, Raph," she said, tentative, not meeting his eyes.

"Yeah? Huh." Before slipping out the window, Raph turned back. April still stood there, facing him. The light from the streetlamps reflected in his dark eyes. "It was nice. Talking about him, I mean."

"You still pissed at Casey?"

He thought it over. "Yeah, kinda. Mostly just pissed in general. How 'bout you?"

"A little. Not as much as before, though."

"Yeah? Huh," he repeated. A smirk flashed across his face. "Guess you was right, April. About talking and all."

Before April could recover from the shock of Raphael telling her she was right about something, he had disappeared into the night.

"No kidding," she whispered to her empty window.

---

Author's Notes: Poor Don, I know! I love the guy, but I'm doing such terrible things to him. As for whether Raph's poor timing was intentional or not … well. We may never know.