A/N I still do not own TMNT, but I will forever be grateful for their existence.

Also, thank-you once again for reading and reviewing!

Love or Blood

Chapter 8: Arboreal Turtles

Moonlight reflected by the lake's waters cast ghostly rays upon the surrounding woods, while the stars blinked in and out of focus as grainy clouds slid through the dark sky. His skin tingled under the cool breeze, and although the night was relatively warm, a chill was fixed into his bones. He vaguely wondered if bone marrow could freeze.

The lone turtle had been perched on the same branch for hours. His rump had been asleep for almost as long, and yet even the draw of a hot meal and a warm bed could not tempt him away from his vigil. His enemies intangible, his nunchakus useless, but still he remained on guard; praying relief would come with the sun. Only eight hours until dawn.

He was never going to make it.

Still, despite his numb bum and frozen fingers Michelangelo could not bear to face what undoubtedly awaited him in the farmhouse. So he sat on his tree branch while chewing over the events of the day. The most notable of the evening was his observation of the various love-struck nomads to come across the watery shore.

For a long time, Michelangelo had been the only occupant at the lake besides the native fauna. Raphael had later sat on the beach for a good hour and never once became aware of his brother's presence. Then April appeared, but it wasn't the red-head's appearance that made the smallest turtle cower in his vegetative asylum. No, that credit was owed to the emergence of Donatello while a certain couple was engaging in certain displays of affection. Raphael and April had been unaware of the other turtles, and Donatello had unfortunately only been unaware of Michelangelo's presence. The purple-clad turtle had made it distinctly obvious that he saw the budding romance. Based on the look on Donatello's face, Michelangelo knew the entire situation was deteriorating alarmingly fast. His hope for the immediate future did not improve when a similar look graced April's features at the mere mention of her talk with Casey.

Michelangelo knew he should go back and be what his family needed him to be, but after Donatello's earlier comments, the orange-clad turtle found himself wondering why he even bothered. Frankly, it was hard enough trying to keep Leonardo out of the dumps. A whole pack of moody brooding teenagers was more than a little intimidating.

He didn't want any member of the party using him as an outlet for their pent up frustrations. All the bases were covered now: Raphael would beat the shell off of him – well he did that anyway but whatever –, Leonardo would leave him in the fetal position in the bedroom closet, Donatello would leave him with an inferiority complex, and Casey would probably nail him in the head with a hockey puck. As for April? She was the wild card. The unknown. A deity of love or a harbinger of death. Either way he didn't want to know. Being Raphael's go-to punching bag was more than enough thank-you very much. Michelangelo never signed up for any more than that.

Luna's pale eyes gave Michelangelo an appraising stare and the turtle confessed that maybe he was exaggerating the situation a little bit. Nonetheless, exaggeration or not, it didn't make handling the others any easier. That was why the turtle was in the front lines of his current internal debate – satiating his hunger versus avoiding melodramatic family affairs – when he was startled out of his battling thoughts, "Mikey, what are you doing up there?"

The perching turtle looked down to see Raphael. Michelangelo silently cursed before responding with his usual cheery banter, "I'm sitting in a tree."

Michelangelo could practically hear Raphael's eyes rolling, "Wow gee really? I had no idea! You know what I mean shell-for-brains!"

But the small turtle was not ready to give his brother any slack, "What else do you want? That is literally all I'm doing!"

"You've been gone all day Mikey."

The turtle swung his legs playfully, "It's a nice tree bro."

Raphael paused a moment then smirked, "You're stuck aren't you?"

Michelangelo was offended by the sheer ridiculousness of his brother's comment – admittedly, the turtle was fairly sure he was indeed partially glued to the tree via sap; not to mention, he was more than a little concerned about how his numb butt would survive its return back to earth. Michelangelo decided Raphael need not be informed of such details and replied in an insulted tone, "No I'm not!"

Raphael replied exasperated, "Mikey…"

Michelangelo countered with equal exasperation, "It's a really nice tree!

The turtle below folded his arms, "Good enough to sit in all day?"

The tree-dwelling terrapin thrust his arms out and gestured, "With this view it is!"

His brother shouted up again, "Quit being stupid!"

Although Michelangelo did not show it, inwardly he bristled. He loathed any of his brothers calling him stupid. What made the comment even worse, was that Raphael knew all too well how Michelangelo felt about it. If the youngest turtle was self-conscious about anything, it was his secret worry that his intellect was inferior to his brothers. Yes, Donatello had them all beat, but Michelangelo wanted to believe he was at least in the same ballpark as his other two brothers. A tongue protruded in Raphael's direction, "Says the guy who let April dunk him earlier."

Once again the orange-clad turtle found himself silently cursing – he did seem to be doing that a lot lately – at mentioning what he had planned not to tell. Raphael's eyes narrowed as he pieced together the implications of the younger's statement. Michelangelo did not miss the hint of anger in his brother's voice, "You were spying on us?"

Michelangelo stammered when he saw his brother approach the trunk, "It wasn't like that bro!"

He was not at all pleased at how fast Raphael was ascending the lower branches, "YOU SNEAK!"

He had also confirmed his butt was indeed stuck – in fact hopelessly stuck – to the branch. He began to panic, "I swear Raph I-"

His words died when his sibling materialized on his chosen branch, "You are so dead Mikey."

In a desperate attempt to deter his brother's rage the immovable turtle squeaked, "I'm not the only one who saw!"

Raphael stopped dead in his tracks, "Who… Who else saw?"

Michelangelo took his opening, "Who do you think? Donnie did."

His brother managed to maintain his balance as he sank into a crouch, "There's no way!"

This time it was the freckled turtle's turn to roll his eyes, "Dude anyone could have seen you guys. You were right in the open! Do you think you're the only one who comes to the lake to mope? It's like moping central for mutant turtles everywhere!"

Raphael's green eyes met Michelangelo's blue, "Don was moping?"

The younger brother's expression softened, "Of course he was Raph. After finally finding out about you and April what else could he do?"

Raphael pinched the skin between his eyes, "Shit. I'm such an ass."

The reptile beside him shrugged, "Well yeah, you kind of are. Especially after getting it on with the girl of his dreams the same day you told him he wasn't the one. Kinda tactless there bro. I would have thought after so long you and April could have at least resisted until the next day."

The turtle swung his legs over the branch mirroring his companion's position, "First of all, we didn't "get it on," and second, you knew?"

Michelangelo reached out and held his brother's shoulder, "Raph you guys have been dancing around each other for months. Trust me, I knew."

"Was it that obvious?"

The younger turtle grinned slightly as he removed his hand, "Don't worry the rest of our merry band is just as observant as you."

Raphael chuckled darkly, "Yeah well, being in the loop isn't so great. Just ask Donnie." The two sat in silence for a moment before the elder responded in a quiet voice, "I screwed things up big time, didn't I?"

When Michelangelo summoned his memory of his earlier interaction with Donatello, he knew there was no way this brother would recover quickly, but then Raphael's eyes captured his once more. Everyone always assumed Michelangelo was the King of Puppy Dog Eyes; however said turtle would beg to differ. Maybe it was because he was usually trying to act so tough or maybe it was because he thought he was above such soft and squishy emotions, but Michelangelo had no doubt that when Raphael put those emerald eyes into Bambi mode all hope was lost. The orange-clad brother just did not have the heart to resist. He couldn't tell Raphael the truth, "Nah bro. Uh… I'm sure he'll get over it. Just maybe give him a little more time. Oh and maybe try to limit the PDA's."

Raphael solemnly nodded before tossing a knowing expression to his brother, and wrapped his arm around the younger's shoulder, "You're a good brother Mikey. You know that?"

Michelangelo tilted his head and grinned, "You know it! The Mikester is the best at all things brotherly!"

The elder chuckled softly and briefly returned the grin before becoming serious again, "Are you really alright Mikey?"

His face was hurting under the strain of his false smile, but the turtle refused to surrender to weak facial muscles, "Of course Raphie! Never better!"

Raphael lightly squeezed his little brother's shoulders, "You sure?"

Michelangelo felt his resolve start to crack, "Seriously, I'm fine Raph."

His brother frowned, "You know that's the second time today someone has told me they're fine."

"And…?"

"They aren't."

Michelangelo's eyes began to water. He averted his brother's gaze by turning away, "Who says I'm not?"

"I know you Mikey."

He didn't want Raphael to probe any further, "Look Raph can we just talk about something else?"

Michelangelo saw in his peripheral vision two demanding green eyes aimed in his direction. Finally, Raphael turned his gaze to the lake. For several minutes they sat just staring at the moonlit waters. Small wavelets brushed the rocky shore, gently rocking the slender reeds. It was still too early in the season for crickets, but the breeze rustled the first leaves and occasional crunches declared nocturnal creatures about their business. Reluctantly, the younger turtle sighed into the night, "Do you ever feel like screaming at the top of your lungs, but when you do, you don't feel any better?"

Raphael continued to stare straight ahead, "Who are you talking to?"

The younger turtle peered over to see his brother sporting a slight smirk. Raphael didn't even bother to return his brother's stare, "Right. Sorry. Just a stupid turtle asking a stupid question."

Raphael abruptly turned to give Michelangelo a piercing glare, "You're not stupid Mikey."

The orange mask wrinkled in response to its owner's frown, "Dude you just called me stupid like ten minutes ago."

His brother folded his arms, "No. I was telling you to stop acting stupid. There's a difference between acting stupid and being stupid."

Michelangelo was not so easily persuaded, "Don't start throwing your grammar voodoo at me dude. Your exact words were and I quote: "stop being stupid!" Last time I checked, that phrase meant: "You are stupid.""

"Grammar's not…" The elder sighed, "Look that's not what I meant."

The freckled turtle ignored his brother's guilty expression, "But it's what you said!"

Raphael snapped, "Mikey, if anything I'm the stupid one for always saying stupid shit and fucking things up!"

Michelangelo was silenced for a moment by the sorrow flowing from his brother. If it were not for a lifetime living alongside Raphael, he would have been rattled by the abrupt change from wrath to sorrow. The sheer vulnerability in his brother's eyes struck him deeply, "Raph, that's not true."

Raphael laughed darkly, "How is it not Mikey? I fall for the girl my brother loves. Then I break said brother's heart. Then I hurt you. Oh and did I mention I threw Casey through a door earlier?"

"Uh…"

The red-clad turtle continued, "Because I did. If it wasn't for April I would have pounded the snot out of him, and don't even get me started on the whole Leo deal." Raphael leaned his head into his hands and exhaled sharply, "Damn it…"

Michelangelo's heart ached. It ached for Raphael. It ached for Donatello. It ached for Leonardo. It ached for all of them.

It ached for himself.

The smaller turtle tried to shimmy closer to his brother before remembering his derriere's sticky predicament. Despite himself, a snort of laughter breached the turtle's defenses to be met by a deadly glare from Raphael, "What the hell Mike!? How is any of this funny?"

Raphael's tone should have put the fear of God into his heart, but Michelangelo could only snort again in laughter before responding, "It's not you Raph. It's just… I was totally going to hug you just now, but then I remembered my butt is still stuck to the tree!"

Raphael's expression warred between confusion and anger, "You serious?"

The younger continued to giggle, "Serious as sap."

The elder lifted an eye ridge, "Sap?"

Michelangelo nodded in confirmation, "Sap."

Raphael cracked. The elder's chuckles permitted Michelangelo to fully succumb to his joy, and soon the older reptile was laughing just as hard as the younger. The turtles sat there laughing until their sides hurt and their eyes watered. Eventually, their aching ribs eased them into the occasional giggle accompanied by boyish grins.

Raphael was the first to vocalize a lucid thought, "So you want some help?"

"If you're not too busy."

A mischievous smile appeared on the red-clad turtle's face, "I don't know… I do have a pretty hectic schedule."

The thought of being stuck in a tree all night fed an edge of panic in the younger's voice, "Doing what?"

That evil grin held strong, "Sleeping. Video games. The usual."

Michelangelo playfully snapped, "Dude just get over here."

It took a bit of innovative sai manipulation and a few shrill shrieks from a certain freckled individual, but with the help of Raphael, Michelangelo was finally freed from his vegetative prison. The turtle rubbed his sore behind, "Dude remind me not to pick a fight with a tree."

Raphael began to walk in the direction of the farm, "Only you would try to fight a tree Mikey."

The orange-clad turtle followed at his brother's heels, "Hey, you can't trust a pine."

Once again Michelangelo swore he could hear his sibling's eyes rolling, "Riiiiight. Whatever you say."

They walked in companionable silence for a while. Both turtles were all too aware of their grumbling stomachs and complaining legs. The sai-wielding brother continued to look straight ahead as though talking to no one in particular, "I feel like screaming all the time."

Raphael paused at Michelangelo's reply, "How do you deal with it?"

The elder tilted his head up to the heavens, "I let it out anyway."

"Ah so that's where you get your charming personality."

Raphael sighed, "It's better than the alternative."

The younger questioned, "What's that?"

The lead reptile did not reply for a moment. Instead he resumed walking before answering, "Think about it."

Michelangelo almost instantly knew the answer. He whispered to the air, "Leo…"

The green-eyed turtle responded, "Leo."

Once again the brothers found themselves lost in their own thoughts, yet somehow in the quiet they felt less alone. Once the farmhouse came into view, Raphael glanced at the younger, "We good?"

Blue met green once more, but this time each were filled with understanding. Sapphires vertically bobbed in answer, "Yeah bro, we're good."

Raphael protectively wrapped an arm around his shorter brother's shoulders, "Don't worry, I've got your back little brother."

The embraced sibling grinned up and then abruptly swung his arms around the other's shell, "Thanks Raph."

The brothers entered the house, the light inside a beacon in the darkness to come.

A/N To my lovely reviewers:

Komnenid: Ah yes Donatello… We will find out more about his thoughts very very soon…

GuestZ: Yeah I always pictured Casey as the type who is quick to fight, yet quick to forgive. He still has a bit to go, but as we'll see in the coming chapters he's really not the problem.

Terri: =) Thank-you! I don't mind Casey, but I never really got into his character either… I guess I've always felt rather indifferent towards the guy. Like I alluded to with Komnenid and GuestZ, Don is definitely a whole other can of worms. Sadly, although I find the idea of him feeding April a love potion hilarious, methinks it will not occur in this particular fic. All I'll say for now is that my Don is a little more on the passive aggressive side.