Author's Note: Another full Donnie POV chapter for you today. There will be more April/Donnie stuff soon, I promise :0)
I'd like to thank everyone for the awesome comments, they really make my day and encourage me to write more. You guys are great.
Chapter Ten
I know it is cold out. I could see the rain and the gray sky from inside April's apartment. I didn't need to go running across the rooftops to convince me of it. The rain stings my exposed skin and only fuels the bitterness that has been festering in my mind since my phone rang. They couldn't even let me have one afternoon alone with April. That's all I wanted, one afternoon. A few hours when I wouldn't have to worry, or work, or fight and now I'll probably end up doing all of those things. It's like they were lying in wait until things were just close to perfect to pull me back to reality; or at least our reality.
They call and you come running.
My legs have mainly healed from my encounter with Master Splinter, although my right knee gives a slight twinge every time I leap down from any discernible height. They're only a few buildings away. I can see them waiting through the curtain of rain. Leonardo is perched on the edge of the rooftop and I'm sure he's already spotted me. So I slow my movements and take my time. It's petty and childish but it gives me a small sense of pleasure just the same. I drop down onto the water-tower beside Michelangelo. He's trying to use it as cover from the rain with very little success.
"Hey, D," he says with a smile full of chattering teeth.
"Nice of you to show up," a less than welcoming voice adds with a snicker.
Casey.
I don't know why it surprises me that he's here. It's a Saturday and he often goes on patrol with my brothers and I. He's standing with his bent arm resting on Raphael's shoulder, using the shorter turtle to hold up his almost permanent slouch. They're both smirking like they know some great and powerful secret that they can't wait to use to humiliate someone. Most likely me if past percentages are any indication. I take my time climbing down from the tower. It's an attempt to stall. I don't know what they've told him. I don't know how he'll react, or if I even care. I try to come up with a sharp response, something witty and sarcastic to match the mirrored expressions on Casey and Raphs' faces.
"Yeah, well…Leo just called me."
That'll show 'em.
"If you had come with us in the first place he wouldn't have had to call you," Raph replies, shaking off Casey's arm.
He's mad you went off on your own. You're gone two hours and they already resent you for it.
Leonardo jumps down from the ledge, nearly silent as always in his landing. He has something metallic and shiny gripped in one hand and my curiosity shoves aside any other feeling or thought. I hold my hand out expectantly and my brother drops the small contraption into my outstretched palm. I slide my thumb over the polished surface to clear the interface of raindrops. It's heavy with sharp corners and unmistakably Kraang in nature. Although, technically, I've never seen anything quite like it.
"The Purple Dragons had a truck-full of these things," Leo explains and I catch sight of a box alongside the ledge and assume it is filled with similar devices. "What is it?"
Yeah, what's taking so long? You looked at it and held it in your hand for ten seconds, you should have it all figured out by now. Fix it, Donnie. That's all they need you for.
"I'm not sure," I say, trying not to get riled by their impatience. "It's definitely Kraang."
I turn it over in my hand and duck under the water tower in attempt to escape the brunt of the rain. I kneel down and regret that decision when my right knee wobbles under my weight. I sit cross-legged instead, sliding my T-phone out of my belt and hoping none of my brothers or Casey caught the tiny pained grimace I am sure flashed across my face.
You're weak. It was just a stress position and you couldn't even handle it. Do you think any of them would still be hurting after even one day?
"So what does it do?" Raphael asks this time.
I take in a sharp breath through my nose instead of snapping at him. I don't understand how they expect me to figure anything out when they keep pestering me. Mikey drops down beside me, leaning over my shoulder to watch my hands move.
"Maybe it's another communicator?" he suggests.
I catch hold of his wrist before he can poke the devise with his outstretched finger.
"Maybe," I murmur, although I doubt it. "It might not be entirely its own device. Possibly just a piece of something bigger."
I let go of Mikey's wrist only to swat his hand away when he tries to poke the interface again.
"Well, that's comforting," Raphael mutters.
"There's an indent along this side," I say. It's more for the need to think out loud than to actually include any of them in my thought process.
I run my thumb along the edge in question. I don't register that I've cut myself until I see the thin line of blood blossom against the green skin of my thumb. A sharp sting follows and I curse and instinctively put the cut in my mouth. A mechanical whir sounds and the tech trembles in my hand. If I was the genius people seem to think I am I probably would have dropped it. Instead I open my eyes wide and lean forward to get a better look. There's an audible crack and the center of the device falls in on itself, glowing green around the edges.
"Is that…mutagen?" Mikey asks with a crinkle of his freckles.
No sooner are the words out of his mouth than the device gives another tremble. There's a loud pop and the center panel springs forward, spraying the green ooze up in an arch. I might not like training as much as my brothers, I might not agree with all of Master Splinter's methods but in the heartbeat it takes to push myself and my brother out of the mutagen's path I'm thankful for the quickness of my reflexes. The ooze splashes onto the rooftop beside our feet and starts to dilute in the rain.
"What the hell did you do that for?" Raph demands, jumping back even though he is nowhere near the mutagen.
The startled movement makes Casey snigger and he gets a punch to the shoulder for his troubles.
"Because I wanted to spray all of us with mutagen," I snap sarcastically.
Leo leans over and picks up the empty container. He looks worried.
"So, the Kraang have a new way to transport mutagen," he says, turning it over with a frown.
"Technically, I think it's a dispensing unit," I say, snagging it out of his grip.
Judging by the way his frown slides into a slight scowl I assume my correction isn't welcome. It usually isn't. I don't do it to irritate them, even though irritation is usually the look or tone of voice I get in response. I just can't let misinformation sit out in the open like that. They dragged me up here into the rain to decipher these things. So that's what I'm going to do.
They just want you to fix things and shut up about it.
"Why would the Purple Dragons want to spray people with mutagen?" Mikey asks and I push his hand down for a third time. "Are they trying to make more mutants to kick their butts?" he says with a loud, boisterous laugh.
Raph and Casey add their own sniggers and I'm glad to no longer be the focus of Leo's disapproving frown.
"Maybe they're stealing it for someone else," Leonardo says.
"Or maybe they didn't know what they were stealing. Those jerks take whatever they can get their hands on, they probably thought it was a truck full of electronics," Casey offers, pulling the hood of his sweatshirt up against the rain.
"Donnie, do you think your mutagen tracker can find these things?"
I looked down at the empty container in my hand. The opening is little more than nine centimeters across. "I don't know," I admit. "Maybe after some recalibrations. We were tracking full canisters before this is just a fraction of that amount."
"Then you better get to work," Leo replies.
Quit talking about it and just fix it, Donnie.
I'm curling my hand into a fist before I'm even aware of the movement, anger burning away the cold sting of the rain. I don't say anything. I never say anything. I just let my frustrations simmer away until something pushes me over the edge and then I blow up.
Or you go crazy and don't sleep for days. Either way they give you that look.
"Mikey, Casey help Donnie bring this stuff back to the lair. Raph and I will see if we can find any Purple Dragons who feel like talking."
Raphael cracks his knuckles and gets that particular grin on his face when he's anticipating violence. I glance over at the box beside the roof's edge. I was under the impression that was all they liberated from the truck. I can handle carrying a single box by myself.
"I don't need a chaperone, Leo," I say with more than a hint of bitterness.
They still think there's something wrong with you. He thinks you're going to take off or worse. They don't trust you.
"I didn't say that you did," Leonardo replies and his voice is cautious and even.
That's how you would talk to a wild animal.
If they didn't think there was something wrong with me before they certainly do now. Leonardo holds my gaze and sets his mouth in a straight line. He'll wait me out. Raphael shifts uncomfortably on his feet, no longer wearing his happy, violence smirk. Mikey will talk first. He always does. I'm not surprised when I feel his arm drape around my shoulders even if it's a struggle for him with the difference in our height.
"Come on, man. Let's get this stuff back to the lair. It's freezing out here," he says and I let him lead me over to the ledge and away from Leo's worried stare.
I shrug out from under his arm and heave the box up. There have to be at least a hundred of the devices inside, making the box heavier than I anticipated. I will not ask for help carrying it, not after I already made a fool of myself. I shouldn't have answered my phone. I could still be on the couch with April…kissing April. I feel my face burn at the memory and drop my eyes to my feet, hoping no one notices. Michelangelo must assume I'm embarrassed by the weight of the box because he quickly takes hold of one side to help carry it.
"This thing weighs like a million pounds," he says with a grin.
"Let me know when you get the tracker working," Leo says, hopping up onto the ledge on the other side of the roof. "Come on, Raph."
Raphael looks like he might argue. There's a forceful clench of his jaw and he lets out a snort of air through his nose I can hear over the wind and rain. He looks like he might argue, but he doesn't. He offers a small shrug instead and followers our eldest brother up and over the ledge of the roof.
"Dudes," Casey says with a snicker that is more nervous than amused or sarcastic. "What is going on with you guys?"
"Let's get back to the lair," I reply, ignoring his question.
Casey Jones is absolutely the last person on earth I want to confide in at the moment. Carrying the heavy and cumbersome box across the rain-soaked rooftops proves a challenge, even with Michelangelo's help. By the time we reach the sewers my arms are tired and the cold has settled a constant sting across all of my exposed skin. By the way Mikey's teeth chatter and he shifts his side of the box every few seconds I know I'm not alone. April's dry, warm apartment seems light-years away.
"Uh, Dude, you're bleeding," Mikey says, motioning with his chin towards my hand.
He's not wrong. The sting of the cold dulled my senses to anything else and that preoccupation has made me oblivious to the slick trail of blood that has oozed its way almost to my elbow. I try with little success to hold up the box with my knee to shift it to my other arm. Casey darts forward and takes hold of the box. I would be lying if I said it didn't please me a little bit to see him struggle to keep it aloft. The cut on my thumb is far deeper than I originally thought and per usual with wounds on the hand, it is bleeding… a lot.
"Just great," I mutter.
I tear off a piece of my bandana and tie it around my thumb, attempting to place the pressure of the knot over the slice in my skin.
"You all right?" Mikey asks, peering at me over the top of the box.
"Yeah, it's just a small cut," I say, not wanting to worry him more than I already have.
Although I'm not entirely sure it won't need a stitch or two once we get back to the lair. Mikey doesn't look convinced but starts trudging through the sewer towards home. I try to take back my side of the box, but Casey shrugs me off and assures me that he's got it, even as he struggles to keep up with my brother. The dank sewer tunnel gives way to drier, older subway track and the promise that we've almost reached out destination.
"Hey, Dude, I'm sorry we…ya know, interrupted or whatever," Mikey says in what I'm sure he thought was a whisper. "But we really did need your help."
You're selfish.
I caution a sideways glance at Casey who is doing a rather poor impression of someone who isn't eavesdropping. My face grows warm with embarrassment and I fiddle with the make-shift bandage around my hand, using it as an excuse to avoid eye contact. I clear my throat and pull up onto the subway platform, reaching down to help them heave the box up after me.
"S'fine, Mikey," I say, hoping he catches my drift and drops the subject.
I very rarely get what I want.
"No, man, it's not. I know how much you were looking forward to it, and…"
"I said it's fine, Mikey," I say again a bit more stern this time.
Casey's snicker makes my jaw tighten and I fight to keep a straight face.
"Seriously, what is going on?" he asks, pulling himself up onto the platform. "You've all been acting weirder than usual today and that's sayin' something."
Mikey's eyes widen and it's as if he is now just realizing that Casey is in earshot and that perhaps he should have waited to have this conversation. I can see the internal struggle to come up with a response fight across his eyes. He's going to say something to make this worse. I can sense it with a tingle at the back of my mind. I imagine this is what it must feel like to see a car coming straight for you without any hope of avoiding impact.
"Donnie was over at April's and Leo totally ruined it and made him leave," Mikey blurts out, instantly clapping his hands over his mouth after the words have already exploded across the air.
I cringe. I can't help it. Mikey looks properly ashamed. I don't bother shooting him a glare or verbally cutting him down. It wouldn't do any good. Besides, damage done. The truth, or at least the assumption of truth is out in the open. It'll be better this way. Clear the air. I wasn't about to do it myself so maybe I should be thanking my brother for getting it over with.
Maybe.
Casey's face is blank, as though processing the information he just attained is too much for him to even wrap an expression around. I should probably take offense to that. I'm about to say as much when he slowly tilts his head in my direction. His eyes are narrowed, more in thought than anything malicious, but I brace myself for an insult non-the-less.
"You…and April?" he asks, lazily pointing at me with one glove-covered finger. There is an underlying question to those three words and it hangs heavy with disbelief.
"Yeah, me and April," I reply, leaving no doubt to my meaning.
I straighten my spine and roll back my shoulders, daring him to make fun of me…of us. He raises a single eyebrow and stays silent for the space of a few seconds. His shoulders rise and fall in a shrug.
"All right," he says, pulling off his hood and shaking the stubborn rain water from his hair.
My whole body is tense and ready for a fight. I uncurl my fingers from the fists I made at my sides. I was ready for a fight. I wasn't ready for easy acceptance and an indifferent shrug.
"All right?" I repeat back at him, certain this must be some kind of trick.
He lets out a laugh and re-ties his bandana around his head. "Yeah, man, all right," he says with another shrug. "She made her choice," he adds with a smirk that is nothing short of lecherous. "There are plenty of other ladies out there who will be all about Casey Jones."
I must be staring at him with my mouth hanging open because he sighs and continues.
"Dude, all she did at the dance was mope. If she's not interested in me I'm not going to chase after her. I've got self-respect."
Implying that you don't.
"Besides," he says with that predatory smirk. "If you're what she's attracted to I never stood a chance, right?" he asks, punching me in the back of the shoulder.
He's insulting both of you. Are you going to stand for that?
"Ha, right, yeah," Mikey says, apparently thrilled the two of us didn't come to blows. "You can't compete with raw animal magmatism," he says, draping his arm over my shoulder and momentarily keeping me from punching Casey in his smug face.
"It's magnetism," I correct him before I can stop myself. It's a gut reaction.
"Aw, whatever," Mikey says with a laugh, leaning over to hoist up his end of the box. "Help me get this thing inside."
I'm not sure if I quite believe Casey's readiness to accept the situation. I do know that I don't really care. It doesn't matter what he thinks. It doesn't matter what any of them think. It only matters what April and I think and if her actions earlier today are any indication she is perfectly fine with the way things are progressing.
I'm still not pleased with the interruption, but some of the bitter weight of my anger lifts from my shoulders. Mikey was right. They needed my help and I shouldn't resent them for it. I have responsibilities and even though I might want to ignore them every now and then that doesn't mean I should. I'll recalibrate the mutagen tracker and we'll find the rest of these dispensers. I'll fix this. That's what I'm here for.
I heave the box into my arms, letting it rest on my forearms and away from my hand where the cut on my thumb is making itself known now that the cold of the day is somewhat abating. I'll recalibrate the tracker as soon as I sew up this cut.
Clean out the wound, sew up the cut, recalibrate, find the mutagen…and text April. You promised you would.
