I've been terribly lazy about updating...please don't let that stop you from reviewing!
The turtles were silent as they stood staring down at the still form of their unconscious brother. The only signs of life that Donatello showed were shallow, uneven breaths that rose and fell with disturbing irregularity. Splinter smoothed a poultice over Don's chest, and the aromas of the herbs tickled all of their noses. After what seemed like hours but must have been only minutes, it was, of course, Raphael who broke the silence.
"I'm gonna tear Bishop limb from limb when I find him." His voice was a low growl, filled with frustration, fear, and rage. "I'm gonna hang his corpse from…"
"Raphael, silence," barked Splinter, his eyes glinting. "Vengeance is not about honoring or avenging the dead. It is about assuaging the guilt of the living." He looked at each of his sons in turn, capturing their gazes and receiving from each one a small bow of understanding. "We will find Bishop, and we will find a cure for Donatello. Perhaps we shall deal the punishment that is due to John Bishop. But to go to him in hate and rage will not heal your brother, and it will not heal your souls. And anger would make us act rashly and without forethought, which brings more danger still."
"It's time to stop wearin' our wishbones where our backbones oughta be," protested Raphael. "We gotta do something." There was a shrill tone of desperation and pain in his voice that made Leonardo wince.
Splinter gave a slight nod, acknowledging Raphael's words. "I am not suggesting that we allow this outrage go unanswered, my son. I am merely reminding you that we must be clear of mind when we do answer." His voice softened and he laid a gnarled claw on Raphael's shoulder. "Fear not, Raphael. We will go and retrieve the antidote."
"No, Master, you can't…" Leonardo cut himself short as he saw Splinter's tail lash once. Splinter then fixed Leonardo with a look so powerful that Leo swallowed audibly, cowed into silence.
"Donatello is my son," Splinter said in a low voice, a voice filled with strength and a hidden danger. "I will do what I must to save him." He gently passed his hand across Donatello's forehead, smoothing away the pearls of sweat that were shining on the pale skin. "Allow me some time to gather my mind and meditate, my sons, and think on what our next step shall be." The three brothers bowed simultaneously and Splinter shuffled out of the infirmary, his head low and shoulders slumped as though under a great weight.
"He's gonna be okay, guys." Leonardo laid his own hand on Raphael's shoulder, but Raph shrugged away from his touch, unable to hide his frustration and anger any longer now that Splinter was gone.
"Don't pump sunshine up my ass, Fearless," he hissed. "If we don't get that antidote, he won't be okay, and you know it." He turned away from Leo but stopped short when he caught sight of Mike's face. The youngest of the brothers looked like he was watching someone punt a three-legged puppy, his eyes full of sadness and pain and fear.
Leo quickly moved to Mike's side and clasped him by the shoulders. "Listen to me, Mike." When Mike didn't look him in the eyes, Leo shook him slightly. "Look at me." Mike met his gaze and Leo said quietly, "We're going to save him, Mike. We will."
"How could this have happened?" Mike's voice was thick with unshed tears, and he turned his pained blue eyes on the body of his brother. "First April, now Donny…" A sob choked him into silence and he fisted his hands as if he could physically fight the horror away. "I can't…Not Donny…" A tear dropped from his eye and tracked down his face as he backed out of Leonardo's grasp, stumbling toward the door, his palm over his mouth.
Leo met Raphael's eyes and nodded. Raphael didn't argue, but turned on his heel and headed out after Mike, jogging to catch up to his fleeing younger brother. His voice faded back to Leonardo's ears, "Hold up, Mikey…"
Leonardo turned back to Donatello, his heart heavy and dull in his chest. So much pain, so much loss. He glanced to the side and pulled up a stool, settling to a seat beside the bed. With a sigh that seemed dredged from his toes, he laid the flat of his palm against the curve of the edge of Don's shell, just below the gentle valley in the hollow of his throat.
"Don, I don't know if you can hear me." As he said the words, tears threatened to strangle his voice and he cleared his throat, gathering strength. "You're home now, and we're gonna get you better, okay, bro?" He brushed his thumb against Don's throat until he found the pulse point that throbbed reassuringly under his touch. "We're all here and we're all safe, and you're going to be okay." Leo blinked rapidly, determined not to give into tears.
"Here's the thing, Don." Leo glanced over his shoulder to make sure that there were no prying ears to hear his words, but he lowered his voice all the same. "I know how you felt about April. And I know how honorably you behaved, and how strong you were to be able to still love her as your friend, even though that wasn't all that you wanted from her. I don't know if I could have done that." Sadness at the thought of his brother's pain made Leonardo's heart clench. "But you can't give up just because you've lost her. Because we lost her. We still need you bro."
And it was true. Donatello's steady influence often went unnoticed as he lurked quietly behind the scenes, but he was as important to the family as any of the other brothers. Certainly, he did not have the gregarious nature of Michelangelo, nor did he have the fiery determination of Raphael. He didn't even have the strength of leadership with which Leonardo was gifted. Often he got lost in the shuffle of the lair, his gentle nature overrun by the more brazen of his brothers. He was the quiet one, the dependable one. But Leonardo was now reminded of Don's role in their daily lives.
"I can always depend on you, Donny. Always. You lead us every day in some ways. You teach us compassion, and wisdom, and humor and patience and love." Leonardo found himself wishing with all his might that he had made the point to have this discussion with Donatello while both of them were actually, you know, conscious. "You are honorable, Donatello. You've always tried to conduct yourself with honor, to do the right thing no matter how difficult. And I know that for some reason you think that April's death was your fault, even though it isn't. But even if it were, there's no honor in giving yourself over to death because of guilt."
Nearly overcome by the pain of the past few days, Leo dropped his head, resting his forehead against the cool surface of Don's chest. For a few short moments he just breathed, matching breath for breath with Donatello, feeling the closeness of his quietest brother. But as he heard the sounds of his family returning, he straightened and brushed his hand across Don's forehead. "Come back to us, Donny. We need you. Please, you have to fight. If you won't do it for yourself, then do it for us."