Chapter 6: Changes
Donatello gritted his teeth. He loved his brother—he loved all his brothers—but even he, of the mild manner and legendary patience, had his limits. Raphael was quickly approaching them.
"How's that, Don? You nice and comfy?"
Don cleared his throat. "Raph, I just wanted to say thanks for bringing me more blankets. Again. For the second time within the last hour." A pause while Raph thrust a glass of water at him. Obediently he took a sip. "But I'm really—" He cut off.
Raph must have sensed where Don was going, because once again his face was shadowed by the guilt-ridden, haunted expression that made Don's heart ache. "Yeah? You was saying?"
When Raph was around the brother he'd almost killed, Don knew that the only thing that took away the shadows was letting Raph fuss over him. Feeling like he was helping with Don's pain eased Raph's own. Don sighed. He couldn't take that away from Raph, no matter how annoying this new over-attentive streak was.
So Don shot his brother a lop-sided smile. "I'm really glad I have you for a brother," he said.
Raph quickly looked away. "Likewise, Donny boy."
---
"He's worse than Leo ever was," whispered Mikey in a low conspiratorial voice, eyes laughing.
"That's impossible."
"You would think that, wouldn't you? But no." He leaned in close, lowering his voice even further. "Raph? Is fluffing Donny's pillows. Let me repeat: Fluffing … Donny's … pillows."
She laughed.
"Oh, and you shoulda seen Don's face when Raph wouldn't let him go play in his lab for a bit. Raph told him he needed to stay in bed, resting."
She shook her head in wonder. "That is some impressive overcompensating."
Mike nodded. "And poor Leo just doesn't know what to do with himself. Since Raph's worrying about every little thing these days, there's nothing left for him to worry over."
"I can hear you two talking, you know," Leonardo called out from his position in the armchair. He glanced up from a book he was reading, one eye-ridge raised in mock indignation.
April grinned at him. She walked over to the chair and patted Leo's shoulder. "My condolences to all of you."
Before Leo could respond, Raph walked into the main room, shaking his head. When he saw April, he flinched for just a moment before grinning. "April! Hey! You better go see him." He jerked his head to indicate Don's room. "I think the guy's startin' to get a little stir-crazy."
"No-o," Mikey drawled. Raph grabbed a pillow from the couch and threw it, but Mike ducked just in time.
Leo looked up from his book again. In complete deadpan, he said, "You'd better go, April. Before a full-fledged war breaks out." He turned to Mike, who was still dodging Raph's pillow-bombs. "And you better go see Sensei. He asked to talk to you over an hour ago, Mikey."
---
"I got you a surprise." She grinned as wide as a kid on Christmas morning, looking down at where Don lay in bed, with no fewer than three blankets piled on top of him.
Don set down the book he'd been reading. "Oh? You didn't have to."
"Sure I did." She sat on the edge of his bed and shrugged off the bag slung over her shoulders. "It's in here."
Carefully Don sat up in bed, took the bag, and peered inside. As soon as he saw it, his eyes went teary.
A laptop.
Praise the gods.
"You wouldn't believe how long it's been since I've been on my own computer," he murmured, reverently taking out the laptop and cradling it to his chest. "Before Raph—I mean, before I got hurt, I'd been working on a new program for the security systems. I was so close to finishing it."
"He means well, you know."
"I know he does. And it's really sweet that he's trying so hard to take care of me." He looked up from the computer and gave her a broad smile. "But it's still annoying."
Seeing Don smile like that, at her, for her, made her grin even harder. Instinctively April leaned forward to kiss him. She'd meant to just peck his cheek, but somehow her lips found his mouth instead.
---
"Sensei?" Mikey peered around his master's room curiously. "Leo said you wanted to talk to me?"
"Yes, my son. Please join me."
Mike cautiously approached the bed where it seemed Splinter spent so much time lately. His brow crinkled in confusion. He hadn't done anything wrong. Well, not lately, anyways. So what did Splinter want him for?
"You have done well, Michelangelo," the rat began softly, as Mike knelt next to the bed, "in looking after your brothers."
Brow furrowed, Mike waited for his father to continue. When he didn't, Mike ventured, "I don't understand, Sensei."
Master Splinter nodded thoughtfully. "I have tried to look after your needs these many years. Your lives … I have always known they would not be easy, and indeed they have not been."
Mike smiled. "It doesn't matter, Master. We love you, and we love each other. That's all we need."
"And I love the four of you," Splinter replied, sounding pleased. "You, above your brothers, are most in tune with the emotional needs of our clan. Leonardo keeps you prepared with his training, Raphael keeps you protected with his vigilance, and Donatello keeps you comfortable with his innovations. But you, Michelangelo, keep us happy."
For perhaps the first time in his life, Mikey didn't know what to say.
"Your brothers," Splinter continued, "are very focused, quite correctly, on the physical safety of our clan. But they do so to the neglect of their own emotional well-being."
Mikey thought it over then looked Splinter in the eye. "What would you like to ask me for, Sensei? Whatever you ask, I'll do it. I promise."
The rat sighed and absent-mindedly stroked the coarse gray fur on his chin. "Your brothers have had a very hard time coming to terms with the death of Mr. Jones. I have tried to help in my small way, but—" He looked away and sighed again. "—I will not be able to help when the time of my own death comes. This you must do, Michelangelo."
"But I've already failed." Mike hung his head. "With Casey, I mean. Just look at what happened with Raph and Don … "
"It was most regrettable, but it was not in any way your fault. I am old, and I am restricted to my bed for much of my time, but I am not blind. I see how your love and your faith sustain your brothers, though you do not." He reached out and took Mike's face in both paws, lifting his head up. The candlelight danced in the turtle's deep brown eyes. "When the time comes, you will know what to do, my son. Trust that you will know."
Mike swallowed hard. "I'll try, Father." He forced a smile. "Just don't go riding off into the sunset anytime too soon, okay?"
Splinter returned the smile. "I shall also try, my son."
---
She tasted warm and somewhat salty. Warmth wasn't really a taste, strictly speaking, but Donatello was in no position to be thinking in a strict manner about anything. He was in no position to think, period. Instead he found himself responding instinctively, returning her kiss.
He decided he liked the saltiness.
Her arms went around his shoulders as she leaned against him, and her weight pushed him back down into the pillows. Don didn't mind—until April's laptop, now wedged between them, pushed against his bandaged side. He let out a surprised yelp of pain, and April immediately broke away. She sat up, breathing hard.
And, just like that, the spell was broken.
She looked down at him with an expression he couldn't begin to decipher, and he closed his eyes so that he wouldn't have to look back. For some reason, he felt everything would be all right if he just kept his eyes shut tight. He didn't even open them when he heard her mumble an apology and leave.
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Author's Notes: Mike really is a sweetheart, isn't he? And in this chapter we see a bit of how Raph and Don are interrelating, as well as follow-up to Don and April's night in bed together.
And just in case it isn't blindingly obvious by now: yes, I'm totally a Don/April shipper. In upcoming chapters, while all the guys still have a part, focus will shift more to Don/April romantic angst. Just thought I should give a fair warning.