A/N: Thanks to the lovely Ravenshell for being my beta!

Chapter 36

I fidget in my lab chair, fighting the urge to pull out the very tubes that are pumping treatment through my veins. Muscle spasms are another wonderful side effect of this drug. I have to remind myself that it's necessary. There hasn't been any visible progression of my secondary mutations, so that has to count for something.

"Are you cold? ...Here."

I smile as a fuzzy blanket is draped over my shoulders. "Thanks." Despite the painful side effects of the drugs, having weekly visits from April makes the treatments bearable. Her eyes twinkle with concern as she returns my smile.

"How's your week going?"

I shrug. "Same old, same old. Everyone's trying to stuff me with food, nobody wants to leave me by myself for more than ten minutes, and I'm not allowed to leave the lair."

"Oh, you poor thing. I can't imagine the torture of having my food catered, my family by my side, and twenty-four hour protection."

"Well, now you just make me sound like an unappreciative brat." I pout as she arches her brow. "No sympathy at all, huh?" My dry wit is rewarded with an airy chuckle.

"They're just worried about you, Donnie. You gave us all a scare. We want you to get better."

"Thanks to your dad, I am." I raise my tube-connected arm to emphasize my point.

She blows her red bangs out of the way only for them to fall back over her forehead. "I know, but the side effects of that drug are pretty intense. They can cause more harm than good if you're not eating and resting like you should."

"I eat plenty."

"That's not what Leo said. He told me you're barely eating a full meal." She sighs as her voice softens with worry. "You can't get better off three crackers and half of a glass of ginger ale, Donnie."

I sigh. This isn't the first lecture I've earned for my recent eating habits. "I just really haven't had much of an—"

My hands grip the armrest of my chair as I clamp my lips together.

"Donnie? ...What's wrong?"

"Nothing… just a spasm." My teeth grind as I try to breathe slowly through the contorting pain pulsing through my thigh.

"Just a little longer… you still have about fifteen minutes left on your IV drip." I don't realize I'm shaking until the warm touch of her small hand on my mutated arm draws my attention to her face. Such a beautiful face. "Hey…" Blinking out of a daze I didn't know I was in, I stare at her curiously as her other hand cups the side of my face. "Where does it hurt?"

"It's fine… it'll pass." Hopefully sooner rather than later. The spasms in my thigh shoot to my calf as I try not to twitch. April's too smart for my mask of invincibility. Her nimble fingers quickly begin to knead troubled area. She massages deeper as my rectus femoris twitches. Relieved, I sigh as the sharp pain starts to subside. My talons scrape against the concrete floor as I uncurl my toes from their clenched position.

"Is that better?"

"Much better." I'm embarrassed by how weak my voice sounds. I take in a lungful of air before speaking again. "Thanks. You know, you don't have to come down so often. Like you said, I pretty much have 24-hour coverage. I'm sure you have better things to do than—"

"Donatello, there is no other place I would rather be then here with you right now." When her eyes meet mine I can't help but smile. It's like seeing the depths of a galaxy a thousand miles away sparkling in her irises. She smiles wistfully. "It's nice to see you really smile again. I haven't seen it in a while, I miss it."

My smile spreads and I'm sure my diastema is showing. If it makes her countenance glow like this, I'll have to make an effort to smile more often. Blinking and pulling out of our eye-gazing stare, April looks away and over my shoulder. "All finished!" I crane my neck to view the empty IV bag. Treatments always seem to go by quickly when she's here. "Feel dizzy?"

"Nope."

"Chest pains?"

"Nope."

"Any more muscle spasms?"

"No. Actually, I feel okay."

"Awesome! Maybe your body's finally adjusting to the treatments."

I chuckle. Her optimism is contagious. "Maybe." I hold my arm out as she carefully removes the needle. "Are you sure you don't want to be phlebotomist instead of a journalist?" I tease, getting a light-hearted eye roll in return.

"Might not be a bad idea considering you and brothers' knack for obtaining bodily injuries." She smirks.

"Hey, I've been good. I'm on lair-lockdown, remember?" Actually, my brothers haven't been on patrol since I started receiving treatments. Although, I have seen Leo slip out when he thinks everyone is asleep. Standing, I stretch the kinks from my shell. "Hey, there's a new sci-fi crime drama series on TV. Maybe we could—"

Everything tilts sideways and suddenly I'm consumed with the sensation of falling.

"Whoa… hey, take it easy." There's a strong pull on my arm and a soft touch on my plastron that keeps me right-side up. "I thought you said you weren't dizzy?"

"I… I wasn't." I close my eyes, holding the side of my head as I try to ignore the fact that I see two Aprils swaying in my vision. "….Thought I was… okay." Closing my eyes, I hope to clear my head of this harsh vertigo. So much for my body adjusting to the treatments. I should have known even April's optimism wouldn't be enough to chase away these detestable side effects.

"Think you can make it to the cot?" April gestures to the slender bed against the wall of my lab. I'm beginning to hate the makeshift bed. It's a constant reminder of how drained I am after these treatments. I rarely have the energy—or coordination—to walk to my bedroom without the assistance of one of my brothers. My body tilts forward just as April grunts, pressing her hands against my plastron again to keep me upright. "Come on, D. Just a few more steps." There's no way I'm going to make it to my room with April's help alone and I don't want to bother Master Splinter or my brothers. The comforts of my bedroom will have to wait until the medicine has settled in my system which will take approximately an hour.

Trying my best not to lean too heavily on the petite beauty beside me, I make a wobbly track for the cot. Feeling for its lumpy surface, I manage to flop clumsily on the bed despite my double vision. With more effort than it should take I pull myself toward the pillow, resting my head on it with a groan.

Looking down, I peek through one eye and see April lifting my legs onto the cot. She is truly a heaven-sent angel. The bed dips slightly at her added weight. I squeeze my eyes shut again to stave off the vertigo, knowing that looking at anything at this point will only result in nausea. I prefer sleeping on my side, but my plastron will have to do. A miserable sigh huffs from my nostrils. I hate this.

April's small hand strokes the back of my head. I turn my head to the side as I try to lean into her touch. Her touch moves from my head, past my neck, and over the circumference of my shell. My muscles melt under her touch as her nails scratch soothing circles over my carapace.

"Just relax."

And that's exactly what I do. Her touch is the last thing I remember before sleep claims me.

The rough texture of Donnie's shell against my nails palpitates through my fingertips. He fights the relaxing gesture for a moment before his body slowly goes slack. He isn't asleep yet; it will only be a matter of time before he is. I really thought today would be a better day, that he would actually have a misery-free treatment session but it's the same heart-tugging routine: Set up treatment session; talk about anything to keep his mind off of said treatment; and last but not least, make sure he doesn't face-plant into concrete floor after treatment.

Don't get me wrong, I meant what I said. There is no place I'd rather be than with Donatello right now, but it doesn't make it any easier seeing him like this. I keep telling myself the treatments are helping him, keeping him for mutating or dying from a second mutation. But when I see his skin pale to gray, the tiredness in his eyes, and teeth-grinding spasms he tries to hide for me, it makes me wonder if the treatments are doing more harm than good.

My dad says despite awful side effects, the treatments are doing their job, but they're also depleting Donnie's body of nutrients he needs to keep his energy up and to protect his body from sickness. The lie I told Simone about Donnie undergoing chemotherapy doesn't seem to be far from the truth.

Usually, I plant a kiss on his cheek and head home by now, but something urges me to stay a little longer. So after his kiss, I pull the white sheet up to his shoulder and make myself cozy by scooting back on the cot until my back meets the wall and I'm sitting horizontally at Donnie's feet. My head starts to drop with drowsiness after an hour of surfing the net on my phone, until Donnie's foot twitches under the thin sheet beneath me. My eyes follow his lumpy form to his face.

"Donatello?" I whisper, leaning over a bit to see his face. He's frowning and muttering in his sleep. His legs pedal awkwardly beneath the sheet before he turns over on his shell. His face is in full view now as the grimace creases his face more and his breathing turns to shallow pants. He's dreaming. A whimper escapes his lips as his head tosses from side to side. A nightmare. "Donnie, wake up." My chest is tight and heavy as I see tears trail down from the corners of his eyes. Crawling to the head of the cot, I pull the sheet back and give his shoulder a shake. The touch sparks a tingling sensation that travels from my fingertips and vibrates through my entire body before impressing a feeling of fear in my mind—his fear.

"Mon-monster…no…" His voice hitches as he wrestles with the hellish nightmare.

A thought crosses my mind. If I can feel his emotions, I wonder if I can impart feelings to him as well. Closing my eyes, I suck in my bottom lip as my fingers press against his temple. I try to project calm and peaceful thoughts from my mind to his, but something is blocking the flow of my positive energy. I can't see the spiritual energy like Mikey can but I can feel it, and whatever is blocking me is also causing Donnie's nightmare. I physically press his temple harder as I concentrate on penetrating the nightmare. Suddenly, I feel a mental pull. Thinking, I've pushed too far, I pull away.

Something pulls back. I gasp as my hand splays across the side Donnie's head. This nightmare doesn't just pull me, it chomps down on my energy like a pitbull and I'm almost certain I hear a sinister laugh. As Donnie squirms beneath my touch, we are both stuck in the midst of his nightmare. Physically, I know I'm in Donnie's lab, but the nightmare is warping my perception and everything feels heavy and dark.

Silly little girl. Sticking your nose where it doesn't belong.

I don't recognize the voice and I don't like it. It sounds the way mucus would feel—thick, slimy, and disgusting. The sudden humidity makes it hard to breathe as I feel the nightmare coat my body with fear, uncertainty, and a lingering feeling of premonition. I try to pull away again, but I can't. It's almost like the nightmare is toying with me, but that doesn't sound right. That's not possible, right?

Be careful of the places you pry. You may find exactly what you're looking for.

Before I can question the faceless voice, glowing red eyes appear just inches from my face followed by the gleam of razor teeth that greet me with a crescent smile. My scream is enveloped in darkness as the teeth part and lunge for me.

"NO!" Donnie and I scream in unison as he jackknifes forward the same time that I fall with a bounce against the mattress. I scramble to a sitting position as I pat my hands over my body. That was too real. I could feel the pieces of his nightmare still clinging to my psyche. Donnie's wheezing pulls me from my bodily concerns. My brows furrow with concern. He's drenched in sweat, mumbling incoherently to himself. Only when I'm certain my emotions are stable is when I reach for his arm. He's still trying to sort through his nightmare and I don't want my fears rubbing off on his shaky aura. I chance drawing closer to him and I relax a little more when he doesn't pull away. His words are more clear and pull at a deep place in my heart. His chameleon skin changes to a murky yellow and a part of me breaks from his distress.

"Not… Not a monster… I'm not a monster…."

"Shhh. It's okay. It was just a nightmare."

"No, it wasn't. It was…it was—"

"You're okay, I promise," I reassure him as my hand presses against the side of his face. The impressions of his nightmare are still there, but muffled. Hopefully, it will fade soon. I think about the time we almost kissed in my room, the moment I knew how much I cared about him… and how much he cared about me. A burst of warmth and caressing flutters flush my face sending gentle vibrations through my body and a bubbliness in the head. I gather those feelings and guide them through my hand which is still cupping his cheek. This time his mind is more receptive to my thoughts as he visibly relaxes under my touch.

"You're not a monster, Donatello." He looks at me with doubt.

"You were there, in my mind, weren't you?"

I nod. "I didn't pry. I just wanted give you sweet dreams, but you ended up pulling me into your nightmare instead." I smirk trying to make light of the terrifying experience.

"Did you see something?" he asks slowly.

"No, not really. Just a pair of red eyes." I purposely leave out the creepy mouth overfilled with teeth that swallowed me whole. My hand leaves his face to rub the chilly goosebumps along my arm.

"That's all?" He seems relieved at my answer, but gives me that look like he's studying or analyzing my response.

"Was there more?" I question him with the same level suspicion.

He snaps out of his analysis and shakes his head. "No. It was just a nightmare." I can feel him pulling away from me emotionally but it's not out of fear, not entirely. He's hiding something. Maybe he doesn't want me to know what his nightmare was about, though I think it's pretty clear. He's afraid the treatments won't completely cure him and he'll keep mutating. It's the only thing that makes sense after hearing Donnie try to convince himself he's not a monster. How could he think such a thing? I look into his brown eyes and see the sweet and gentle spirit that I've grown so fond of, full of wonder and humanity.

Wrapping my arms around his neck, I squeeze him tight. "You're not a monster," I tell him again with surety. "No matter what happens, you're still my Donnie." He stiffens for a moment under my embrace before slowly returning it. His mutated hand cups my mid-back gently, but strongly as he pulls me close to him. We stay like this for what seems like forever. He draws my strength as I accept his fear. I pull away slowly, gauging his emotions. His olive green complexion returns, speckled with its usual large brown freckles but he still seems a bit shaken. He needs a distraction. "Hey, how about we grab a snack and check out that sci-fi crime drama you were telling me about?"

He blinks, considering my suggestion before rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah…. yeah, that'd be good." There's that smile again.

"Awesome. I brought vegetable soup." His grimace pushes his beak into a cute pout as he pushes himself off the lab bed.

"How about four crackers and a ginger ale and we call it even?" I snort. Glad to see his charming wit is recovering nicely. His stance is sturdier than now. I take his hand into mine as I push open the lab door.

"Not a chance, D. You're eating that soup if I have to feed it to you myself."

"No complaints here."

I hip-check him for his flirtatious remark as we head for the kitchen.

TBC

A/N: Hope you guys enjoyed this Apriltello chapter! Leave your thoughts and comments in a review. I always read and appreciate them!

Next chapter: Bro-bonding ;)

See you next chapter!

Poetique