AN: This story is dedicated to to anyone who has survived Breastcancer. It was hurriedly done, I admit, and perhaps needs more work. But I have a friend who is a survivor. This is dedicated to her and anyone else who has or had breastcancer.

KICK IT TO THE KURB, PEOPLE!

AN 2: Takes place supposedly after mutants are accepted into society. :)

The Promise

By RDG

Donatello sighed softly. He rubbed his eyes tiredly as he rolled back from his desk. It was done. He had perfected the cure.

But he was too tired to celebrate.

Getting to his feet, he slowly trudged out of his lab, looking up in surprise as Leatherhead entered at that moment with an armload of paperwork.

"LH?"

"Don't mind me, my friend, I just have some… unexpected work." Leatherhead sounded a little tense.

Don smiled in understanding.

"Those rush jobs are intense, huh?"

"As you have said." Leatherhead grumbled as he placed the paperwork at his desk, picking up the mug of luke-warm coffee, he gave it a disgusted sniff before gulping it down.

Donatello waited quietly for Leatherhead to finish before making his announcement.

"I found the cure."

leatherhead nodded soberly before doing a double take with an outrush of breath. He had no coffee to spew out. Donatello congratulated himself on his timing.

"You… you found it?"

"Yeah."

Leatherhead stood and clasped his friend's hand.

"Well done."

Donatello looked away, a tears glimmering in his eyes.

"But… I'm too late to save her."

Leatherhead frowned before admonishing his friend gently but sternly.

"You did what you could. Do not blame yourself. Besides, she would be proud of you."

Donatello looked up at the picture on the wall. April O'Neil, smiling with all the gentleness of an angel. Her green eyes flashing with intelligence, her face kind and compassionate.

The frame was decorated with pink ribbons.

Donatello took a shuddering breath.

"I guess she would be proud."

Leatherhead smiled sadly before scowling at his workload.

"It can wait. Let's tell the board."

Donatello nodded.

He grabbed his jacket. It was pink, with a logo on the side that read: Tough enough to wear Pink.

Memories of April flooded his mind. When she had discovered her sickness, it had been too late to save her. But from that point on, she seemed to grow stronger, if that was possible. Her attitude was amazing, and her face always brilliant with a smile. Her will allowed her to live four months longer then she should have.

He remembered when he discreetly visited her in the hospital, showing her the jacket he now wore. She had laughed, but instead of joking, made him swear that he would do anything he could to help the other victims.

And Donatello had kept that promise.

Sorry if it sucks. If anyone has suggestions, let me know!