A/N As always I do not own TMNT, but I am forever grateful for their existence!

Love or Blood

Chapter 9: Killing with Kindness

The procedure had been methodical:

1. Prepare clean slide and cover slip

2. Combine one drop of mutated tissue with one drop of retro-mutagen

3. Wait sixty seconds

4. Place coverslip on slide

5. Place slide on microscope stage

6. Examine cells accordingly

7. Record observations

8. Repeat

Donatello had performed these steps countless times in his attempt to procure a new batch of retro-mutagen that would be more effective than his original design. He needed a cure that could operate on a much larger scale with fewer base materials if he had any hope of undoing the damage done in New York by the Kraang. Months had passed since they fled the city and the turtle did not relish the thought of how many mutations would need to be reversed upon their return. Currently retro-mutagen was the only answer, and Donatello was the only one who could synthesize it.

Yet, here he was still staring at the same field of view a good hour after placing the slide on the stage. The cells had long since autolyzed and no longer held any useful information, but Donatello continued to let the microscope's bright light bathe his vision.

Donatello's brain had short-circuited.

Despite the repetitive and systematic nature of his work, his cerebrum could not seem to divert its focus from earlier events. When Raphael had informed Donatello of his novel feelings towards April, the younger turtle's sympathetic system had responded admirably. Between his pre-ganglionic receptors' release of the acetylcholine necessary to activate the post-ganglionic release of norepinephrine, and his chromaffin cells' release of both norepinephrine and epinephrine directly into his blood stream, Donatello had more than an effective initiation of his fight-or-flight response. This was good because at that moment, despite Raphael's intimidating size, Donatello wanted nothing more than to kick his brother's shell back to New York City.

Unfortunately, even with the added blood flow to his limbs, the tallest turtle was still no match to his older sibling.

The purple-clad turtle knew he had been considerably negligent in his training since their arrival in North Hampton. Even though Donatello was still in impressive shape, when compared to ninety percent of the population, he was the equivalent of a tub of lard when compared to the turtle before him.

Since the invasion, Raphael had feverously turned to exercise as his outlet. When this volatile brother wasn't watching over Leonardo, he was burning off steam. Raphael not only religiously practiced his ninjutsu every day, but he lifted weights, did cardio, and eagerly sought any other activity that would enhance his skill and strength. His anger could be terrifying when uncontrolled, but when Raphael managed to harness it, the sai-wielding reptile became a veritable force of nature.

As a result, when Donatello sought the best place to start beating his brother into submission he could not help but notice what months of vigorous and unyielding exercise can do to a body. It was around then that he also became aware how fast one's flight response could exponentially escalate while leaving its fighting counterpart in the dust.

The physical evidence before him caused Donatello to follow the most logical and self-preserving strategy. He opted to peacefully diffuse the situation and thankfully, by some miraculous phenomenon, Raphael for once had backed down from a brawl.

By this point, all Donatello wanted was to seek solitude long enough to bring some sense to his current conundrum, but Michelangelo blithely managed to derail that plan. Admittedly, the youngest brother probably did not deserve the harsh words that were bestowed on him; however Donatello, despite his best efforts, had lost his classic logic-derived demeanor. His hurt, his anger, and his embarrassment at not being able to fight for his woman had left him disjointed and flustered. These emotions needed collateral and Michelangelo was the rational choice.

After leaving his cruel mark, forged by his unfulfilled emotional needs, the elder had stalked off to his workshop leaving Michelangelo to his own devices. Originally, Donatello had intended to thoroughly analyze the repercussions of this new development, but once he was alone, the mutant turtle found he would much rather get some work done than address his emotional turmoil.

If only his heart shared the same desire.

Finally, when his eyes could take no more of the microscope's blinding light, Donatello admitted he needed to review the series of events that kept plucking his neurons away from the task at hand.

Donatello had never been one to favour his emotions. He preferred to think of the world in black and white. Either something was or it wasn't. If it was right, it was right, and if it was wrong, it was wrong. Emotions evidently did not follow this preferred scheme and so historically, if given the option, Donatello preferred to not acknowledge them. This unspoken mantra particularly applied to the ones that wove themselves into the unseen regions of his heart.

That was, until April entered his life.

With only one solitary look from those sapphire irises, April had managed to irrevocably disrupt Donatello's natural order. Before meeting April, Donatello prided himself on his control over his emotions. He believed he and Leonardo were one in the same in that respect. Unlike Raphael and Michelangelo, these two brothers knew how to feel, but managed to detach themselves from such trivial distractions. Donatello's feelings for April had never submitted to such restrictions and although vexing, a large part of the purple-clad turtle relished the change. He began to believe that as long as he could prevent himself from developing some of Raphael and Michelangelo's more psychotic tendencies, a little bit of emotion could perhaps even be beneficial to his overall development. At that optimistic thought, Donatello began to understand what had perspired earlier.

Raphael did not know how to control his emotions. When it came to his older brother, Donatello fully believed Raphael acted purely on impulse; he acted now and thought later. His tumultuous feelings had to be addressed the moment they arose, which unfortunately entailed him often acting on ridiculous impulses. Raphael's earlier confession was evidence. Those unbridled emotions had forced Donatello's brother to act in such an unsophisticated manner, and sadly, even though Raphael claimed April felt strongly towards him, Donatello strongly suspected that once again his sibling was being led astray by his errant emotions.

Donatello's epiphany left him simultaneously enlightened and relieved. Of course he did feel a little sorry for Raphael. He loved his brother and didn't want to see him get hurt, but April obviously only had feelings for Donatello. April had kissed him – on several occasions – and therefore she had to like him. The purple-clad turtle found himself sighing thoughtfully into the silence, "If only Raphael could think in black and white terms, he would avoid so much pain."

Nonetheless, Donatello loved his brother and would be there for him during this trying time. Undoubtedly, his reaction in the woods had probably left the elder unnerved; it was Donatello's responsibility to go and tend to his brother. Then after comforting and assuring Raphael that it was normal to have these feelings, Donatello had no doubt that his brother would concede to the sheer absurdity of the entire situation. Naturally Raphael's pride would be slightly deflated, but with any luck, the two brothers would slip back into their usual routine by dinnertime.

The purple-clad turtle stood up and brushed his hands together pleased he had found sense in the situation so quickly. He stretched his back and proceeded to leave the barn in search of his brother. Donatello knew Raphael often escaped to the lake when he needed some solitude – Donatello himself favoured the spot – so he decided to try seeking his brother there first. Approximately half-an-hour later, the turtle found himself nearing the aquatic body, but before he saw anyone he heard familiar voices. It only took him a fraction of a second to identify the owners. Donatello froze at the cold sensation inching through his thoracic vertebrae.

April and Raphael were alone together.

He was too far away to make out the flow of the conversation clearly, but he didn't dare move closer and risk Raphael becoming aware of his presence. That small desperately hopeful part of Donatello wanted to believe that his apprehension arose from the worry of witnessing Raphael's mortification at April's imminent rejection, but the jagged pricks of ice spreading through his costovertebral joints hinted otherwise.

He needed to know the truth.

The hidden turtle crept away implementing every stealth technique he knew. He then slipped through the foliage to position himself at a concealed outcropping that provided a reasonable view of the pair on the beach. He could still not hear the conversation clearly, but at least from his covered location he could watch their body language. After only a few minutes of observation, Donatello felt his stomach convert into a geyser of bile leaving both esophagus and mouth raw.

His fists clenched when April lay her bare leg across Raphael's lap. His teeth ground when Raphael cradled April in his arms. His vision blurred when their lips met. His heart screamed at how wrong he had been.

April had feelings for another, and it wasn't Casey Jones. It was Raphael. His own brother had betrayed him.

Donatello abandoned much of his stealth as he fled the lake shore. He felt the couple was well enough distracted to not notice the slight rustling in the underbrush. For the second time that day Donatello found himself moving through a daze. He could barely walk straight, so desperate was he to block those wretched thoughts. Yet their stroking fingers, sparkling eyes, and dancing tongues invaded every orifice of his mind. He was helpless to repel the evidence of their love.

A love that Raphael had stolen from him.

If the mutant turtle had been himself, he would awed at the miracle of him once again returning to the barn despite his phantasmagoric state. His world was spinning and his senses were overloading. He felt as if his world was crumbling around him. How could he have been so wrong?

Donatello would be the first to admit that he was not the strongest as far as emotional intelligence was concerned. He was not the best at reading people and he was all too aware of his inherent awkwardness. Yet, he also knew what his strengths were and when it came to science, Donatello truthfully believed himself unparalleled. He was also a ninja. Years of training had taught the turtle to learn to harness ones strengths while manipulating ones weaknesses. Long ago when he realized he had no idea how to win April's affections, he decided to approach the situation in a way that would cater to his strengths.

Donatello began to develop a theory that would clearly show what was necessary for him and April to be together. Unsurprisingly, he went to what he knew best and began to formulate an equation, but not any ordinary equation. If he could somehow find a way to convert April and his interactions into a mathematical medium he was confident he could earn April's affections.

He started with the most fundamental physics principles, and when Newton's Laws yielded no visibly useful information he turned to other fields and theories. Le Chatelier's Principle was the first in his search to guide him. He soon deduced that whatever he put into their relationship would affect the eventual outcome accordingly and the system would act to counteract changes in order to maintain homeostasis. Donatello knew all systems sought equilibrium and so if he was going to force a reaction to occur in his and April's relationship, he knew he would need the appropriate energy input. With the Laws of Thermodynamics on his side, Donatello believed if he just put in enough energy he could make April return his affections.

It was not unreasonable for Donatello to implement this particular tactic. All his life he had used equations to aid him, and to a large extent they had been beneficial. True, he did not always have tangible values to his equations, but even in more ethereal concepts his approach had proven itself successful. As long as an adequate amount of time was given, Donatello believed any reaction could eventually occur. In Ninjutsu, training harder gradually over time equalled becoming a better ninja. In his studies, working or learning more equalled him becoming more knowledgeable and diverse. In a more basic form, it had even applied to his initial friendship with April. Saving said girl's life equaled her friendship and trust.

So why had he failed to make the equation pertaining to his romantic aspirations balance?

He had accounted for practically every variable he could imagine of ranging from their suicidal missions to rescue her father to simple little romantic gestures. They had even rescued her on more than one occasion!

Then it hit him.

All this time Donatello had been approaching his relationship with April as though it were a closed system. Yes, Casey had provided a small hiccup, but the reaction was strong enough to stay intact even with his interference. However, Donatello had never considered one of his brothers disrupting the system. Raphael had never been accounted for, never planned against, and so without the extra energy necessary to counteract the error his big brother introduced, the inertia of Donatello's equation was ruined. Game Theory itself stated that the rate of success is significantly reduced the more competition increases and more cooperation decreases. It was not April's fault, and Donatello had not been wrong.

Raphael was to blame.

As a scientist, Donatello immediately knew the easiest way to fix this. Any researcher worth their salt does everything in their power to mitigate error. Outside factors have to be monitored. If they risk the outcome of the experiment, they have to be dealt with accordingly. Obviously Raphael's presence had interfered and could no longer be ignored. Raphael had to be eliminated from the system.

Donatello shivered at where his dark calculations had led him. Was this really the only answer? Was any of this really in his control?

The turtle looked guiltily around the barn until his eyes came to rest on a picture of the party not long before the invasion. They were all there: Splinter, Leonardo, Michelangelo, Raphael, April, and Donatello. Casey was angled strangely into the picture so that he could take it while still making it onto the film of Splinter's relic of a camera that had no automatic timer. A small grin laced Donatello's lips when he saw his arm wrapped around April. That grin flopped when he saw how Raphael and April were positioned. The turtle was flabbergasted that he had not noticed such an important detail sooner. Silently he chastised himself for being so enthralled with April that up until now he only cared to look at how he was holding her that he had missed what had apparently been in motion for months. One had to look for it, since the two were standing so close – another thing Donatello frowned at – but there was no mistake. April was clearly holding one of Raphael's fingers and even worse, although his older brother still had his eyes towards the camera, Raphael definitely bore a hint of a blush.

Donatello's previous feelings of guilt instantly evaporated.

His family always had viewed Donatello as fairly patient in that he had a very long fuse before he actually became truly angry. Even then, those outbursts were few and far between and usually between just Donatello and himself. He was one to release his fury in places where only his eyes would bear witness to his rage. However, when he was truly angry, his wrath became more volatile than even Raphael's. Frankly, Donatello found himself beyond angry. He was livid, furious, and irate. He was so angry that for once Donatello was at a loss to appropriately describe the boiling hot beast that was now screaming for release.

Donatello found himself wanting to use his secret stash of mutagen – hidden after the transformation of Mrs. Cluckingsworth into Dr. Cluckingsworth – to turn Raphael into a cockroach-turtle hybrid. The thought of Raphael being perpetually terrified of himself gave the younger turtle a sick sense of pleasure. The jar containing The Creep caught his eye and the turtle contemplated having Raphael live out the remainder of his days as a daisy. He shook his head at the jar wishing he had known of Raphael's betrayal before attempting to reverse the transformation. Then he could have claimed he just didn't have the knowledge to return his brother to his terrapin state. No one would blame him, and Raphael would no longer pose a threat.

Yes, it would be easy enough to dispose of his brother, but the real difficulty would be to do it in a way that would prevent April from hating Donatello. If the purple-clad turtle showed up at breakfast tomorrow to dump a jar of mutagen and a cockroach on Raphael, she probably would not be thrilled with him. There had to be another way.

In his anger and desperation, Donatello even half-heartedly considered challenging his brother to a fight where the winner gained rights to April. Sadly, he knew there was no way he would come out victorious in such a battle. Brute force had never been Donatello's answer and he refused to turn to it now. He needed to be smart about this. He needed to use his strengths. He needed to manipulate Raphael's weaknesses.

He pulled out one of the chewed up wooden drawers in his workbench and brought out a notebook and pen. First he needed to list what he knew and what he had to work with regarding his brother. Then he would use what he could to eliminate this hot-head competitor. Within a fairly short amount of time Donatello had begun to piece together his plan.

Raphael was a lot of things, but the one thing that Donatello knew he could use was his brother's temper. The key was bringing out a storm so strong that it would not just destroy its host, but all links April had ever built with Raphael. Initially, Donatello believed that to be his greatest obstacle since he knew how loyal Raphael could be. He also knew that Raphael put on a bravado, but in reality he felt guilt very strongly. So all Donatello had to do was nourish the tiny seeds of guilt Raphael had made himself the moment he betrayed his younger brother. Donatello would then ensure their growth by watering them with his "love." Raphael's guilt would eventually put so much strain on him that an explosion would have to result. If set-up correctly Donatello could ensure its detonation would fix this entire situation.

Yes, Donatello planned to kill his brother with kindness. It was a brilliant plan in which Donatello was guaranteed to gain the control he lacked in his original design. Not only would he guide Raphael without him ever knowing it, but he would do it so no one would know it was him pulling the strings. Raphael would destroy himself and April would be his.

Donatello shook his head at the insanity of it all. Once he began to set his plan in motion there would be no going back. One seed was all it took and Raphael would do the rest. Did Donatello truly want to win this way?

He rubbed his red eyes in weariness. His anger had abated and left smouldering exhaustion in its place. The turtle decided that before he did anything he needed to get some sleep. He would review his strategy in the morning and see if it really was the route he wanted to pursue. Even at his worst, Donatello was never impulsive and always thought his actions through. This situation would be no different.

As Donatello closed up the barn for the night, he secretly admitted that his conscience was part of the reason for his strategy's delay. Raphael drove him crazy, but he was still Donatello's brother. That love, although fragile and wounded, still meant something to the purple-clad turtle.

He neared the farmhouse and his back was beginning to yearn for the comfort of his mattress when he heard a huge crash. Right before his eyes Donatello saw Casey Jones go flying out of the kitchen on the screen door with a very frightening Raphael not far behind. Donatello frowned at the red-head desperately grasping at the large reptile's arms. "What the shell is going on?"

Casey was the first to acknowledge his arrival, "Don, what do you think of this?"

Donatello did not know what to think. That was why he was asking the question, "Of what?"

Casey was obviously annoyed that Donatello was not so willing to jump onto his train of thought, "Of April and Raphael hooking up! What else?"

Once again his gruesome anger reared its head and Donatello found himself tearing out his conscience with its red-hot claws. He attempted to look at his brother and April and found he could not stand the sight. His eyes shifted in and out of focus as he tried to restrain his rage. As calmly as he could he responded, "And…?"

The downed human gestured towards the offending source, "You cannot tell me you are ok with this?!"

No, Donatello was not ok with it. He was as far from ok as he could get, and that alone provided his fiery beast fuel to continue its scheme. Now was the time to act. Now was the time to start watering the seeds of guilt. Donatello shrugged nonchalantly, "You just need to accept it Casey. I'm going to bed."

He continued his façade by adding a good dose of cheer to his voice as he addressed the other party members, "Goodnight everyone!"

Raphael looked confused, "Uh… Goodnight Don?"

Donatello was pleased with Raphael's response and did not hesitate to plaster a grin onto his face. He began to resume his initial course to his awaiting bed when Casey once again cried for attention, "Are you serious? I thought you were head over heels for her?"

Now he was irritated. Only Casey Jones' interference would risk Donatello to reveal his true intentions. Donatello had lost control once and that was enough. He admitted it resulted in a horrendous outcome and he accepted that he should have anticipated Raphael's actions. It was a mistake that he would acknowledge if only to ensure it did not happen again, "It wasn't in my control."

He did not wait for anyone's response. He had owned up to his mistake and the others could interpret it as they willed. Donatello was not concerned that such a response would clue in Raphael to his younger brother's feelings. Raphael did not possess such powers of deduction.

Finally Donatello found himself stretched out comfortably on his mattress. His rage was quelled for now, but come morning he would need to apply himself fully if he were to shift the balance. Yet, he was not daunted. Even if by some crazy phenomenon Raphael clued in to what his brother was doing, once the guilt took hold it could not be stopped. Raphael's own self-destructive nature would see to that.

Donatello chuckled to himself in the darkness before drifting to off into his dreams where April was in his arms.

A/N I know Donatello comes across as a bit of a vindictive and pompous twat, but really he is totally the guy who would be uber passive aggressive. I just hope he didn't come across as a total crazed fruit loop. Keep in mind he is in a lot of emotional pain, which he has never been good at handling (using equations for his manual on how to interact with others may be part of that problem) so that leads him to go off the deep end a just a wee bit.

Thank-you all so much for reading and reviewing! I can't believe how many hits this has gotten and the jump in followers I've been getting as a result. I can't explain how blown away I am that people enjoy my writing this much. It's been a great ride so far so hopefully I will continue to impress!

Terri: I know it's about time right?! I can't say I've been super inspired yet by the new episodes, but I'm patient. In the meantime I'll rewatch some of my fav oldies! Also, I'm getting back to Raphril awesomeness in the next chapter so stay tooned!

Komnenid: Thanks! I PM'ed you so we can discuss things there! =)