Chapter 4:

Donatello grumbled bad-naturedly to himself, grabbing his tea mug and bringing it to his lips as though to take a sip. No tea came to meet his parched tongue, a reminder that had finished it off hours ago. With a sigh, he put the mug back on its coaster.

He then turned back to the computer monitor, eyes gleaming with blue artificial light. Stretching his hands over the keyboard, Don held them there for a few moments, thinking. Then he moved his hands again, passively watching the little cursor dance across the screen, leaving the codes he had typed in its wake.

After a few minutes he finished, reared back in his chair and, seemingly satisfied with his work, clicked the 'send' button on a popup window. A progress bar came up, filled to one hundred percent, and another popup window appeared with a message.

Don didn't bother reading the entire message. He had read the same damn thing enough times to know that the beginning phrase 'project 3101 failed to...' meant that he had messed something up.

In a sudden fit of silent frustration, he grabbed the nearest item at hand- his cordless computer mouse- and hurled it to his left, where it hit the right wall of his subcar-lab with a crack. Then, quietly, Don let out a pent-up breath that seemed to deflate him, body relaxing as he leaned an elbow on computer desk, clenching his hand into a fist and biting lightly on his thumb's knuckle. He held that position, staring at the computer screen and thinking deep thoughts until there was the sound of the doorknob jiggling, then a loud knock on the door.

Don sighed in annoyance, not really in any mood for interruptions at the moment. "Yes?"

The answer came muffled by the door. "Don? 'Lemme in."

"Why bother being polite? Just barge on in like you usually do." Don said, eyes not leaving the monitor. In response, he heard the door open.

"Don?" The voice, though strangely nasally, was definitely Michelangelo's.

"Mmm?"

"Could... could ya just spare me a second and turn around? You've probably been working on that for long enough, anyways."

Putting on a stern face as he prepared to lecture his brother about interrupting people when they were busy, Don once again turned around in his wheeled chair.

He was greeted by the sight of Michelangelo standing in the dim light, his hand cupped around his beak as he tried to suppress a dark liquid that dripped out slowly from between his fingers. Features softening, the purple-masked turtle made a move for the medical cabinet and pulled out one of the rags that he kept handy for times like this. Without having to be told, Mike sat down in one of the desk chairs, and Don handed him the cloth.

"Hold this to wherever's bleeding while I get some better light."

"Mmkay." Don flicked the light switch and went over to his brother, gently reliving his hand of the cloth as he carefully lifted it up off of his brother's face. He dabbed lightly at it, brows creased to a frown. For his part, Michelangelo sat still for his brother, neck craned to tilt his head upward, silent.

Had this event taken place more than three months ago, Don might have been a little more than uneasy at Mike's solemn disposition. However, with the way that things had become, he no longer expected the whining or annoying jokes that surely would have challenged his concentration.

"So," the purple-masked turtle ventured, "what happened? And tilt your head forward, not back. Unless you feel like puking blood." He had heard his two brothers yelling not too long ago. Having decided not to get into it, as it seemed to be between Leo and Mike, Don had remained in his lab and tuned out the noise, continuing with his work.

As he partially expected, Mike remained silent, the look in his eyes hardening as he stared at something over his brother's shoulder.

Don saw his brother's expression change. He assessed the situation for a moment before deciding that he could push without getting blown up at. "Did Leo do this to you?" It was a hard thought to comprehend, and while Don thought that his elder brother would never raise a hand to one of his he still had to admit that Leo was still capable of inflicting wounds- many of them far worse than what Mike had received.

Mikey's head moved slightly back and forth, and Don realized that he was shaking his head no. "Raph did," he said, sounding detached.

"Okay. No, wait... you got into a fight with both Leo and Raph?"

Mike sighed. "Seriously, Don, what kind of idiot do you take me for?"

"You aren't one. I was just trying to figure out-"

"Look, there was a crash from Raph's room and when I looked in to see if he was okay, he threw a hardcover book at me and screamed for me to get out."

"And I take it that because you interrupted me you don't want to tell me what you and Leo were arguing about." It wasn't a question, rather, worded as a statement.

"Not really. Not now." Don nodded and worked in silence for a moment before he spoke again.

"Well… Whatever it was, are you okay now?"

Mike closed his eyes. "My nose is bleeding."

"I know that. I meant-"

"Hey, Don? How about you go and check on Raph? I think I can deal with this while you're gone."

April slid the key into the lock of her apartment door and twisted it, booty-bumping the door to unstick it from it's frame as she slipped into her home with as much grace as the two brown paper bags brimming with groceries would allow. She placed them on the kitchen table, pulling out a plastic bag that held all of the items that she had purchased for the bathroom and going down her short hallway, stopping in the office to boot the computer up. Once the bathroom items were put away, April started the old coffee pot up and began to put the groceries in their rightful places.

It took almost an hour for April to make it to her computer with her steaming mug of coffee. She sat down in her chair with a sigh, automatically glancing at the black-and-white security monitors that were set up so that she could keep a closer eye on her downstairs antique shop.

April opened her email account, and her eyes widened in surprise as she saw that she had received one hundred and two emails since the last night. She checked them through, deleting the usual junk mail and reading through the few that she got from friends.

The remaining eighty three all had the same message: someone had been trying to hack her new system for the past nine hours. Realization donned on April, and she smiled, then laughed, shaking her head.

Donnie, Donnie, Donnie...

"Raph, let me in."

"No."

"I want to talk to you."

"No."

"What do you plan to do, then? Sit there and sulk?"

"No, dammit!"

Don sighed and leaned his forehead against his brother's door for a moment. When he relifted his head, he did so with new determination. He had only just switched on the light and seen his brother's predicament for a moment before he had to duck his head behind the safety of the door and close it by Raph's loud orders. He hadn't seen much, a glimpse of blood on the floor and the splinters of wood everywhere told Don that his brother probably needed to be checked... if not stitched up then cleaned in case of infection.

The situation was all about injured pride, Don guessed, but either way letting him in couldn't be any worse than looking like a big green chicken squatting in a nest of splintered wood.

"Look, I'm coming in, Raph. I'm going to take a look at your... whatever's hurt."

"No. Don, I said no."

Arm held protectively before his head, Don opened the door and slid though. No book came flying at him- or any other part of his body, for that matter.

Now being able to view his brother without the fear of having a concussion, Donnie assessed the situation from Raph's scowl to the ruined bedside table. There wasn't as much blood as Donnie had initially thought, but the undersides of Raph's legs were still lightly coated with the stuff. By the look on the red-banded turtle's face, not only was he in pain, but if he could get up his hands would probably be around Don's neck.

"Raph, calm down."

"Get the fuck out!"

"Just... take it easy."

"I can take care of it! Out!"

"I'm going to take a look at that. If it gets infected-"

"Then that's my problem."

"Oh, would you stop? What the heck is wrong with you? You gave me attitude last night when I came to check on you, and now-"

Raph breathed out through clenched teeth. "Donnie, I. Can take. Care. Of it."

But Donatello had had enough. He fought the urge to verbally compare his brother with a broken record and got down to business. "Alright, Raph. If you don't stop this right now, I'm going to have to resort to one of my other measures."

This seemed to work a little. Raph clamped his mouth shut and glared at his brother as he approached. Don placed the med kit down a few inches away, then walked slowly around his brother in a circle, trying to get an idea as to how bad his injuries were. Unfortunately, with Raph sitting on them, it was hard to tell.

"I think I need you to get up. Lie on your plastron." At first, Don thought that he would have to repeat the command. Then, slowly, Raph leaned forward with a slight grimace on his face, then crawled out of the majority of the wood to lie on his stomach. Don looked at the damage-which there wasn't much of. He didn't doubt that it hurt, but it truthfully he knew that Raph had been through worse than a few giant splinters. There was no stitching needed- just a lot of shard-removing and a bit of disinfectant.

"This is probably going to sting, Raph..." He warned.

April could hardly believe it. Eighty three times her friend had tried to hack her program- over a period of nine hours. Did he really have all that time to waste on stuff like that? She knew that he took much pride in his ability to hack her programs... but that was just crazy.

April sighed and looked at her watch. Seeing that it was only eleven o' clock in the morning, she wondered if Don would still be awake. She could more than use the company and, now that she thought of it, there were a few things around the apartment thatneeded a little tweaking...

Don had finally finished wrapping the bandages around his brother's legs. With a sigh he reached over and cut the bandage off, tapping Raph lightly on the head with the scissor handle to tell him that he was done. He then stood back and watched his brother heave himself up off the rug.

"It'll hurt for a while," Don said, noticing his facial expression, "But you'll heal fast. I cleaned the wounds well, so there shouldn't be much in the ways of infection." Raph grunted and glared at the purple banded-turtle in his usual charming way of giving thanks. Used to this type of response from his brother, Don gave a little half-smile as he cleaned the bloodied tweezers with an alcohol-soaked cotton ball. "And you are welcome."

Raph was quiet for a moment, then, "Where's Mikey?"

"I left him down stairs." Don said, giving Raph a peculiar look from the corner of his eye. "Why?"

Raph shrugged, his gaze focused anywhere other than Don's face. "Jus' wonderin."

"He had a bloody nose."

"Shouldn't have been snooping around in my business, then."

Don hesitated a moment before speaking. "I heard screaming before."

"Look. I really had nothing to do with that." Raph said, finally looking up at his brother. "Actually... maybe. The fight was between Mike an' Leo, but... Technically, I guess I started it."

"Technically..."

"Mike was jus' being himself, and I got… annoyed and Leo came to defend him. I left, and they started talking. About gang shootings and... uh, Master Splinter." Raph watched Don suddenly pause in the sterilizing as he placed pieces together.

"He still doesn't like the idea of anyone going topside? I thought he said he got over that."

"Yeah, well, you know Mike. Guess he got sick of us worrying about 'im for it."

Don just shook his head. "The gang shootings..."

"Yeah. I know. Obviously Mike's afraid for Leo." As he spoke, Raph unconsciously reached to his shoulder and rubbed a finger against the shiny round scar that was located there, a wound that had received as he was carrying the body of his father home. That and three others had almost caused him his life. "I mean, that sort of thing has always been a possibility."

"Well... he's traumatized. When I found him alone with you and Master Splinter, he was so panicked..." Don reached up to massage the memory from his temples, then paused again and looked to Raph. "Wait... Leo's up there now? He's aware that it's broad daylight, right?"

Raph shrugged, his anger at his wounds seemingly forgotten by the flow of the conversation between the two turtles. He was calmer now. "Who knows what the hell he plans to-" He was interrupted by Don's shell cell ringing. Don gave him an apologetic look, then pulled the cell from his belt and, checking the caller ID to see who it was, flipped the phone open.

"Hi, April, what's up?" Raph watched his brother from his seat on the chair, as Don's eyes shifted slightly from left to right as he listened. Suddenly, and much to his older brother's amusement, the purple banded turtle flushed, his olive skin turning from an olive green to reddish-brown. "You... you had an email alert on that? Oh... Uh huh... yeah, I'm not doing anything right now. Yeah, I got a new trench coat." He glanced at Raph. "I probably could... if I go through the sewers and come up through the manhole in the alley right by your apartment..."

Raph stiffened, his fists clenched so that the knuckles turned white.

"But I don't really need help, April... yeah, I know how long I was on. ...I know how late it was. No, I got enough sleep... April, I'm fine." There was another long pause, and Don sighed. "Alright... I'll be up in a while. Kay. Bye." As soon as Don hung up, Raph spoke.

"You aren't seriously thinking of going."

"Oh, I'm going. Haven't been out in a while, except to get supplies..." Don paused to give Raph a strange look. The red-masked turtle was suddenly uncomfortable under the gaze. "Plus, April wants me to check out the shop's security system."

"You can't go out now! It's light out!"

Don began to stack the medical equipment up. "I'll just go though the sewers and end up in the alley by her house. I won't be out in the open for long, just until I get to a window or something."

"Can't ya just... fine. Did she say anything about us going?"

Don turned away. "I don't want you going out, Raph... It'll probably end up being more pain for you than anything, anyways."

"But..."

"No buts." Raph growled and looked away, seeming to be thinking. Don turned to gave him another odd look. "Raph... why do you care all of a sudden if I decide to go out?"

Raph didn't answer, just kept looking past his brother. Don tried again.

"Is there something wrong?"

Raph said nothing. Don sighed, looking, Raph thought, more sad then the situation called for.

"Anyways... While I'm gone, check on Mike for me, will you? He should know what to do about his nose, but I still think that someone should just see if he needs anything else." When Raph still didn't answer, Don shook his head and left the room, going to fetch his trench coat and tools.

In the dream, it was dark outside... it ain't dark out right now.

"Don?" He called after his brother. "Be back before sun set, or I'll come out and kick yer ass."

The answer wasn't immediate, but when it came the red-banded turtle could tell that his brother was at the other side of the lair, by the door. "Yeah... okay, Raph."

Then the distinct sound of the door of the lair sliding shut reached Raph's ears.