April swallowed a sip of her vanilla latte, flinching as it burned upon hitting the churning pit that was her stomach. She hated fighting with Donatello as much as she regretted keeping things from him.
A bitter breeze blew, raising the hairs on the back of her neck. She shivered against the tingling sensation over the back of her head. A cursory glance around the parking lot showed her nothing of concern. She scanned the driver's seats of nearby cars but the glare of the sun left her with questionable results. "Don't start freaking yourself out now."
She waited by the rear entrance of the lab, knowing Donnie would come through the back way, especially when he saw the police tape blocking off the front.
Leo's phone would be blowing up soon. Donnie would call to tell him about the break in, Raph would be calling to talk about the breakout, and the station would be calling for him to come in on his day off and oversee the sudden barrage of cases. And after Ever Tilley finished with Michelangelo he might be calling his big brother too.
April frowned. How did I get myself into this mess?
As much as she hated what was happening she knew too much, about them, and the situation. She knew they needed each other, that they weren't exactly ready for the upcoming fight, that they'd become so... domestic… that their own worst enemy had managed to sneak up on them.
She blamed herself too, had been so caught up in her happiness with Donatello she'd reported stories that should've painted her the picture of what was to come, but hadn't really absorbed them. Then she got the call. Everything she was told made perfect sense and it was upon them so fast she didn't know if she could manage to pull off what little she had. But she did. With a little help willing help, and some less willing, she was sure to have gotten their attention.
Yet she hadn't felt they'd listen if she just told them outright, male pride would've shone from two parts, denial from one, and total calculation of the odds of her being right or wrong from another. And there wasn't time for all of that. They wouldn't take her seriously, not with all that was going on in their lives. Besides she'd been asked not to tell. So she'd worked within certain parameters to wake them up, nudge them in the right direction. But in the process, she feared, it may have cost her Donatello.
She tugged her phone from her purse, checked her messages. There in her inbox was the question of the hour, well one of two important questions at the moment. The one most crucial to her wasn't the one she was reading, but she feared the answer to that one anyway.
Did you get it?
April took another sip of her coffee, watching Donatello approach the lab, his gray suit tailored to fit perfectly over the shell on his back, his purple tie just a little crooked. His glasses slipped on his face with the tilt of his head, with no nose bridge to hold them up. Her heart fluttered. Will there ever come day that I stop feeling like this? His warm brown eyes narrowed on her.
She looked to her phone, replying...
Yes
As she stepped toward him, Donnie held up a hand. "Not now, April."
The gesture hurt her as much as his words, like he'd flung a door in her face. She knew how that felt, because he'd done just that the other night when she was caught in another lie. How she hoped he'd forgive all of this. When it was all over. How she wanted to be the one to tell him, when the time was right. Soon. I'll tell them soon. Very soon. In fact, just as soon as they start asking the right questions.
April steeled herself, tossing her coffee cup in the trash and pursuing him anyway. Risky she knew, but she had to see this through. "This is business, Donnie."
He stopped, straightened himself, and seemed to grow two inches when he did. His movements slowed, were calculated.
You're so carefully controlled when you're this level of pissed, well when it comes to you and me anyway.
"Not now, April."
"Not now? What does that even mean? I need to talk to you." I want to tell you, everything. Right now. But I can't. Not yet. Her heart clenched, his icy demeanor sending an ache over her body. I want to go back to the way things were before I ever answered her call. When it was me and you, charity events together, me covering front page articles highlighting your latest discoveries, your Nobel prize, every grant awarded your programs. When it was me and you and cozy nights on the couch, the scent of the balsam pine long ingrained your skin warming my insides as I breathed you in. When you looked upon me with an endless love, a timeless love, our love. It was in your eyes, on your lips, with every sweeping touch of your strong, but gentle, fingers in my hair. There was me and you and nothing else. I. Want. That. Back.
"Not," he enunciated, "now, April the ex-girlfriend. And not now, April O'Neil nosey reporter. Not now," his Adams-apple bobbed as he swallowed, before looking her in the eye, "not ever."
Not ever. Her guts churned, as her world tipped on its axis. He may as well have struck her down with his bo. Not ever. "Don't say that Donnie. You don't understand."
The sudden hardness of his eyes frightened her. Not for her safety but for whether or not she'd ever get him back.
"Please leave," he told her, as his lab assistant opened the door for him.
"I'm so glad you're here Mr. Hamato. It's so strange the lab is in perfect—"
Donnie held up a hand silencing the woman, who reminded April of Velma from Scooby-Doo. He looked at April through the small gap in the door, which was slowly closing in her face. "If you ever cared about mutants at all April, then you won't run a story about this."
With that she was left standing on the back entrance wondering how much longer she'd have to keep this up, and if she hadn't gone too far.
