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

Chapter 41

I bob my head as the echoes of my beatboxing carry through the tunnels. As I start another beat, the echoes serve as a masterful backdrop of faded bass. Going to the lair after my colossal screw up on Thanksgiving is probably one of the stupidest things I've ever done, and man do I have a long list of stupid but that's never kept Casey Jones from doing the right thing.

Raph didn't answer his t-cell when I tried to call, not that I blame him. Leo can be the strong silent katana-swinging-toward-your-head-while-you-sleep type so I didn't bother calling him either. And Donnie….I couldn't talk to him, not yet. Not after what I did. I opted to call Mikey instead.

Little guy's got a heart of gold. I probably messed up any chance of Mr. O'Neil giving Donnie any more treatments, but if Mikey was harboring animosity toward me, he hid it behind the warm, genuine forgiveness in his voice. I decided to wait a couple of days to give the Hamatos space before finally heading to the sewers today.

I stare at the Lair entrance, swallowing the rocky lump in my throat. Despite Mikey's reassurance, I think coming here to apologize is going to be easier said than done. With practiced swag, I jump the turnstile and score a perfect landing, skates and all…. until I miss a step and end up face first in the pit.

I hear a long, nasally sigh and already know it's Leo.

"And this is why we don't skate in the lair."

" 'Sup, Leo," I greet him as I right myself on my butt, removing my skates to replace them with the sneakers tied by their laces over my shoulder. "I was in the neighborhood and just thought I'd, ya know, drop by. Figuratively."

"Literally."

"Huh?"

"You said figuratively. You mean literally."

I roll my eyes. "Geez, Leo. You sound like your geek-a-nator brother." I gasp at my slip of words before biting down hard on my lip. It's hard acting normal when everything is anything but normal down here. "Sorry, Leo, I didn't—"

"It's okay, Casey."

I give him a half smile now that I know I'm under one else's good graces. Two down, three to go. "So, how's D anyway?"

"Worse."

I cringe as I tie my laces. "I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault." His neutral tone makes it hard to tell if he means it or not.

"It kinda is. I spilled the beans, remember?"

"Kirby was bound to find out sooner or later." I nod silently in agreement. "Have you… talked to him or April?" The sternness in his eyes does little to hide the desperation in his voice.

"April, but not her dad. She says her dad is still pretty teed off about the whole thing. I hate this." I toss my skates to the side, taking a seat beside Leo on the couch with a deep sigh. "If it wasn't for me Mr. O'Neil would still be giving Donnie his treatments. He'd be getting better!" I look down, elbows digging into my knees as I grab at tufts of my hair.

"That isn't your fault. Mr. O'Neil made the decision to stop coming, not you. Besides, from what Donatello says, his body is immune to the treatments anyway. Even if you hadn't said anything and Kirby was still treating Donnie, it wouldn't have made a difference. He would still be just as sick as he is now." Maybe Leo isn't mad after all. Guess, he has more to be worried about than staying mad at me.

"Well, that's a relief." I can feel Leo's hot glare on the side of my face. "I mean that it's not my fault, not that D's sick!" I correct myself holding up my hands protectively. His eyes lose their flame as he sighs and looks blankly at a rerun of Space Heroes. "So, is this friendly turf for me with everyone else?"

"Master Splinter and Mikey don't hold anything against you, and Donnie's been too sick to really care."

"And Raph?" His silence confirms what I already know—Raphael is holding all of this against me and will probably take this hatred to his grave….if he doesn't try to disembowel me with it first. "Where is he?"

"In his room, brooding."

"Catch ya later, Leo. I gotta make this right." I may be walking to my own funeral, but I have to try. I push off the couch and skip two steps as I bound out of the pit.

"I know your track record, Jones. While you're making it right, keep it down. Master Splinter and Donnie are meditating." I salute Leader-nardo, walking backwards a few steps before jogging to Raph's door. I bang against the closed door with my fist. "Yo, Raph! You in there, dude?" I press my ear against the door only to jerk back at the sudden sound of heavy metal bass vibrating against it. "Come on, bro. Don't be like—" I make the mistake of opening his door and a drumstick pinwheels toward me. I look behind me to see where it clatters to the floor, realizing it missed my face by inches. "What the flip, Raph?! You could've shish-kebobbed my eyeball!" I scream at him from the doorway, trying to talk over the pulsing music streaming from inside.

"Then get out of my room!"

"I'm trying to apologize, you maniac!"

"I didn't ask you for a stinkin' apology, moron!"

"I told you to keep it down!"

"I was trying to but—oof!" Leo shoves me in Raph's room slamming the door behind me before I can defend myself. "Ow! Will you knock it off?!" I rub the spot on my head where his other drumstick nicked me.

"Get. Out. You're not welcome here."

"Leo said everyone's cool with me being here except for you!" I call him out on his lie.

There's a bunch of loud, impatient fist bangs against the door. "I said keep it down in there!" At Leo's Splinter Jr. voice, Raph finally turns the stereo down to background noise level so we're not shouting over the heavy metal that sounds vaguely like my 'Purple Dragon head-bashing' mix CD that I let him borrow.

Raph's sitting against the head of his bed, glaring at me with his arms crossed. Then he eyes a can of bug spray within reach. "Look, just hear me out," I plead with him before he decides to either mace me with bug spray or clunk me in the head with the spray can.

"You've got 30 seconds and then I'm personally tossing ya outta here."

"I'm sorry, okay? Dude, I seriously thought everyone knew! I mean, heck! ...Mr. O'Neil was treating him, why the heck wouldn't you guys tell him?!"

"Oh, I don't know….maybe because of the way he reacted on Thanksgiving?... Get a clue, Jones. And you know what? ...why would you say that crap anyway?! What part of your idiotic little brain thought it would be a good idea to mention my brother's cannibalism at a dinner table?"

"Dude, I don't know!" I grab at my hair, fisting it tight enough to cause pain before throwing my hands in the air. "I was trying not to be weird and make a big deal out of what happened, but maybe making a joke about it wasn't a great idea."

"Ya think?"

"Okay, it wasn't a good idea. I get that now. I'm not good with deep stuff like this. I mean, this is serious stuff... like, D could die." I finally speak the truth that's been in the back of my mind for the past month. Donatello could die. It's the same thought I try to avoid when I sit with my mom during her chemotherapy. "He could die," I say more to myself than to Raph who's been major quiet this whole time.

"I know."

"I'm sorry."

"I know." The second time he says it seems to take a bit of his strength with it as the words leave his mouth. His anger has pretty much extinguished by the time I flop down on my back at the foot of his bed.

"Is he really as bad as Leo says?"

"Yeah."

Okay, Jones, you can do this. Try to say something helpful. Show him you understand. "That's good."

"What?" I can hear the shift in his voice and I realized I've messed up before I even started but hopefully I can take my foot outta my mouth before he hands my teeth to me on a platter.

"My mom... when she takes her chemotherapy, sometimes she gets really sick, like puking and everything. She says her heart feels like it's running through fire and ice at the same time. The doctors say it'll get worse before it gets better. So maybe with D this is just the worse before it gets better."

He considers my words for a moment. I don't talk much about my mom to anyone. I mean, everyone knows she has cancer. No one knows she's at stage four and that it's spread to over seventy percent of her body, but that's not what Raph needs to hear right now. He needs to be strong for his brother the same way I have to be for my mom.

"I hate this. I hate being completely useless. I used to help Donnie train so he could get used to fighting with his new mutations, but he's too sick for training now. At least with training I felt like we were fighting this sickness, giving it a good butt-kicking, ya know? But if I can't help him fight..."

He doesn't have to finish his sentence because I've been there, done that, got the stinkin' t-shirt. Raph and me are cut the same, we need something physical to fight, to fix, to make better. Without it, there's this deep pit of rage and desperate recklessness waiting for us.

"Then you fight for him."

"I just told you I can't fight this sickness, none of us can."

"Maybe not, but sometimes just being there is enough. Let him know it'll be okay."

"Even when it's not?"

"Especially when it's not." I swallow back the lump in my throat. Just this morning I told my mom she was glowing like she used to when she played games with me when I was little. The smile on her grey and sunken face was worth the lie I told her. "He needs that stubborn strength of yours and if you don't have nothing else you've got plenty of that, meathead." I chuckle when his foot shoves against my rib. "You think D is still doing the psychic stuff with Splinter?"

"They started about an hour ago, so they should be finished by now."

"Grab your board, I'll catch up with you in a sec." Raph looks like he could use some parkouring time and if we're lucky, we'll run into some Purple Dragon scum and bash their heads in to give our acidic hopelessness purpose. I wander out of Raph's room as he looks for his skateboard. I'm just in time to see Splinter slip out of Donnie's room. He leaves the door open and when he sees me gives his usual nod.

"Good evening, Mr. Jones."

" 'Sup, Master Splinter." I offer the most charming smile I can muster. He looks down at me and quirks his brow. "I, uh, I just wanted to say sorry for… everything." It's easier to look at the scuff marks on my shoes than to see the disappointment that I know will be on Splinter's face. I tense under the weight of his paw on my shoulder. Leo said Master Splinter was cool about everything, but sometimes Leo's definition of being cool is just being angry and trying not to show it. You know, that passive aggressive thing.

"It is alright. Things were bound to be discovered that evening whether from your thoughtlessness or my truthfulness." I look up. Is he accepting my apology and calling me an idiot at the same time? His rat-dad words of Zen can be so confusing sometimes. His eyes are tired but kind. That's a good enough sign of forgiveness for me.

"Is D up for company?" My eyes glance at the open door behind him.

"I am sure Donatello would enjoy some quiet company." Splinter gives me a pointed look. I get it. Make small talk and get out. No problem. He removes himself from my path, giving me full access to Donnie's room. When I step into his room, I half expect there to be some kind of artificial voice that says in British female accent, 'Hello, Casey Jones. You have now entered Donatello's domain. Anything you touch will immediately result in electrocution….' or something sci-fi-ish like that. Much to my disappointment, Donnie's room is pretty boring—a desk, a bookshelf, and a shelf that looks like a bunch of biology and physics teachers threw up on it with all of its miniature models and other science-y stuff. My eyes widen when I finally stare at my friend.

Don looks like crap.

He's in bed. His eyes are closed so he hasn't noticed me. The grey color of his skin freaks me out and I almost think he's not breathing until a raspy gasp parts his lips. His weird-looking arm looks huge. It's like that single monster arm of his is sucking the life out of the rest of his body. The weight loss is obvious as his shell looks too big for him. He looks so frail… so sick.

Like stage four cancer sick.

The blanket covering half of his body doesn't seem to do much for the small tremors that cause him to twitch every few minutes. Suddenly I feel pretty selfish for coming in here, when he probably needs rest more than company right now. Quietly, I backpedal to the door.

"Casey?..." Apparently not quiet enough. He looks even worse now that he's awake. Without his mask, his eyes are dull and have the same look of exhaustion that my mom has had every day for the past month. It's been two days since I've seen Donnie. He shouldn't look this bad, not this quick.

"Yo." I slide into an easy smirk, amping up some extra Casey Jones charm to cover my discomfort at seeing my friend like this. "I was just about to put your hand in a bowl of warm water."

He blinks at me twice as his usual quick-witted his brain takes way too long to catch on to my banter. With a small snort, he give a twitch of a smile. "Good to see you too, Jones." I try to ignore the rasping breaths he takes between his words.

"So... how've you been? ...I mean... ya know, since..." I search the ceiling for the words that seemed to have disappeared from my head.

"Since you told everyone I was a man-eating turtle?"

My lips clamp shut and I freeze. Just when I think I've screwed up again, he laughs with a small huff. "I'm joking, Casey."

"Jerk. And to think I was gonna apologize to you."

He smiles a little more and nods, then I know we're good. "No apology necessary, but the sentiment is appreciated." There's more strength in his voice as he sits up more in his bed though his movements are slow, shaky, and look painful. "We were going to have to tell Mr. O'Neil and April sooner or later. I just wish it had been under better circumstances."

"Yeah, that part kinda sucks." I rub the heat of embarrassment from the back of my neck. "Oh!" I snap my fingers as I remember my other reason for coming back here. Reaching into my pants I pull out a folded piece of paper and hold it out to Donnie. He stares at my hand like it suddenly sprouted warts or something. "Here, it's for you."

"It came out of your pants."

I roll my eyes at his disgusted face. "Dude, I have my jock strap on. Just take it."

"I repeat. It came out of your pants."

"Look, it's from April so would you just take it already?" I shake the paper at him again.

"Why would you put it in your pants? You have pockets!"

"I have holes in my pockets… would you just take the stupid letter!" With a huff of reluctance he finally pinches the paper from me between two fingers. "Her dad took her phone and she's not allowed to come down here so I'm playing messenger for now. Kinda like that Mercury dude from Romeo and Juliet."

He stops unfolding the paper for a moment before giving me a questioning look. "Do you mean Mercutio?" Well, looks like his patronizing wit is making a reappearance.

"Yeah, whatever. You get the point."

"Wow. Thanks, Casey. I guess this must be pretty awkward for you."

"Just a little." I saturate my voice in comedic sarcasm as I bring my index finger and thumb together to emphasize my words. The little bit of energy Donnie had is fading fast as he hides a yawn behind his monsterous arm. "Yeah, so I'm gonna leave you to your lovey dovey letter and catch up on some skating with Raph." I head for the door again, but when he doesn't say anything, I turn around to find him staring straight ahead with this dazed look on his face. "Yo, D, I said I'm out. D?...Hey, c'mon stop clowning, bro. Donnie?" I touch the blanket and give his knee a shake.

"Mikey?"

"Try again." I'm getting a little nervous here. Don maybe sicker than I thought if he thinks I'm Mikey.

He shakes his head of whatever coo-coo moment he was having. "You didn't hear that? It sounded just like Mikey."

"Nah, bruh. Just you and me in here." I glance around his room to prove my point. "Dude, you just spaced out on me. You should really get some rest."

He stares at me and then at the empty space behind me. "Yeah… yeah, I guess you're right."

"I'll be back later this week, ya know, in case you wanna send a letter back or something." I offer my delivery services and don't even charge him a blackmailing fee. Casey Jones is the ultimate nice guy.

"Thanks." With a thumbs up, I back up toward the door. He closes his eyes only to open them again. "Hey, Casey..."

"Yeah?"

"Look out for her, okay?" I don't like the look in his eyes as he asks me to keep an eye on Red.

Casey, look out for your sister. Okay?

Remembering my mother's words from this morning make my eyes burn as I blink back the sudden moisture there. The finality of Donnie's stare is overwhelming and I refuse to look at him. I can tell he wants to say more, but exhaustion tugs at him as he yawns again and on that cue, I make my exit.

"Yo, Raph. You're slower than my grandmother and she has a bad hip," I shout into Raph's room when I see he still doesn't have his skateboard.

"Don't get your skinny jeans in bunch. I'm trying to find my board." He grumbles as he stands up from looking under his bed. "I can't find it anywhere in my room, so that only leaves one other place it would be." He glares as he shoulders past me and kicks open Mikey's door. I follow close behind. Raph and Mikey are the ultimate free entertainment package. Raph and I are both confused when we don't immediate see Mikey in his room, but walking around his junk piles, we finally see him sprawled out on the floor spread-eagle style. That's an odd way to fall asleep, but then again this is Mikey we're talking about.

"Get up!" Raph barks as he nudges Mikey's toe, but the dude is pretty much comatose to the world in a deep sleep. "Wake up, Mikey!" He yells a lot louder this time putting his foot on Mikey's plastron.

Mikey's eyes shoot open as he jackknifes up and gasps, taking in a huge gulp of air. Raph and I both stumble back startled by his antics. If he starts asking for brains, I'm getting the 'h-e-double hockey sticks' outta here.

"What the shell is wrong with you? Why are you on the floor?"

"Nothing!" Mikey squeaks, his priceless face looking stupidly confused.

He looks like a kid caught with their hand in a cookie jar, but I can't quite tell what it is that he did. Raph is pretty skeptical too. He knows that 'nothing' actually means 'something', but I can tell Raph either doesn't care enough to investigate or doesn't want to be a victim of one of Dr. Prankentstein's crazy pranks. "You know what? ...I don't even care just give me my board."

"What board?"

"My board, Mikey! Give me my board! I know you have it!"

"I don't have your board!"

"Ugh! Then what is that?!" Raph snatches up the end of his skateboard half-buried beneath a pedestrian walk sign, a pizza box, and a couple of used boxer shorts. "You're disgusting!"

"My bad. I thought you meant your chess board."

"I don't have a chess board. Why would I have a chess board?! ...Nevermind don't answer that. C'mon, Casey." He storms out before coming back in a half a second later. "And stay outta my room!" I look between where Raph stormed out again and back at Mikey and shrug my shoulders.

"Later, Mikey."

"Later, dudes." He seems a bit relieved to see us leave, which is kind of weird since he's always buggin' Raph to let him tag along. I don't give it a second thought as I race Raph to the sewers.

Groaning, I force myself to breathe through the pain coursing through my body after I was jolted awake by its intensity. It feels like razor blades grinding through every vein in my body, but as quickly as the quaking pains come, they leave. I sigh in relief, thankful for a moment of peace. It's late and I'm pretty sure everyone's gone to bed since I don't see any lights on from beneath my closed door. I decided to take this moment of pain remission to read April's letter:

Donatello,

My dad took my phone, so I'm relying on Casey to take this letter to you. If he doesn't, he'll live to regret it.

Anyway, I hate that our first day as boyfriend and girlfriend was ruined in a matter of seconds. My dad is still angry about everything and won't let me come to the lair. I miss you guys. I miss you. I told Casey to keep an eye on you, I just need to know that you're okay.

I had some time to think about the incident and it all makes so much more sense now. Your nightmares and anxiety attacks…. I had no idea you were going through so much on top of this mutagen radiation. I'm sorry you felt like you couldn't tell me. If I had known I would have never let you deal with it alone. What happened in the sewers doesn't change anything. You're still Donnie. You're still my Donnie. I will always be there for you no matter what. It may be a little tricky, but I'm going to come see you. My dad doesn't understand. He doesn't know you like I do.

I hope you're getting plenty of rest and eating properly. I'm sure between Master Splinter and your brothers, they aren't giving you much of a choice. :) No matter what, you have to keep fighting. We'll find a way to beat this. I believe in you and I believe in us. I love you.

Sincerely,

April

I wipe the salty trail from my cheeks as tears spill over my eyelids and splatter on the crinkled letter. She still loves me. I didn't believe she would or that she could, not after finding out. Not after having time to mull over my heinous act of murder. But she does. That either makes her insane or amazing, or maybe both. I don't know how much time I have left. I want to see April one last time because I'm not sure what's going to happen to me as the days tick by.

I can feel it. Something growing, changing inside of me, and the constant scratching at the wall in my mind is maddening. Its whispers are louder now, more sinister than before. I try to keep someone in my room or at least listen to the jazz tape Raph made for me. It helps. Any distraction helps, it drowns the whispers. My family's company may keep the dark voice at bay, but there is nothing that relieves me of the pains that erupt throughout my body.

Surprisingly, it isn't my mutated arm that hurts but it's my other arm and legs that throb constantly. There's something shifting in my body, in my mind, and it scares me. It is only meditation and will-power that keeps these dark changes from consuming me, but I'm getting tired and the dark voice inside knows it. But I can't stop fighting it, I can't let it win. The things it says it will do to my family… to April, I can't bear it. So for their sake, I fight the pain with meditation as my body trembles with fever and resistance.

Something strange happened when Casey came to see me earlier today. I could see Mikey hovering a few feet behind Casey. It was like an orange apparition my little brother appeared out of thin air. When Casey said he couldn't see Mikey, I'm pretty sure he thought I was a few screws short of a toolbox. I'm not crazy, I know Mikey was there.

I wipe the feverish sweat from my brow. Or maybe he wasn't.

Maybe my mind is already succumbing to madness. Maybe I'm not really here at all and finally bowed to the dark whispers that threaten to take over my body and mind. Tucking April's letter under my pillow, I grab my earbuds as I shift down further under the sheets and heavy blanket which do little to stave off the bone-aching chills in my limbs. Sounds of soothing saxophones, pitchy trombones, and smooth piano keys dance in my ears until the whispers become lost in the music and I find satisfying equilibrium between rest and pain as I drift to sleep.

TBC...

A/N: Hope you guys enjoyed the chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it. I haven't delved much into Casey's POV so it was nice to write in his character in this chapter as he visits the Hamato family. Next chapter we'll see how the O'Neils are coping. As always, please leave a review! How are you guys feeling about Casey?...Do you think he has truly redeemed himself? And has Donnie started to tip into the realm of insanity as his body and mind rebel against him?... I love hearing from you guys just as much as I love sharing this story!

See you next chapter!

Poetique