Donatello was perfectly happy to head home after that. Blurring the line of honor and the necessity of scaring some thug into thinking twice about his life choices tended to weigh on him a little. The purple-masked turtle felt better the moment he could walk away.
The way his brothers joked with each other on the trip back made it feel like the events of the day before hadn't even happened. Donatello's footsteps felt considerably lighter by the time they returned to the Den, and the pain radiating from his jaw was inconsequential.
Leo stopped down the hall to let their Master know they were home, having agreed not to mention Don's small injury yet.
"Why dontcha take a load off, Genius?" Raph suggested. "Or would you rather go to bed?"
He glanced in the direction of the stairs, followed by his Lab. Donnie had told Leo he would try harder, and this was a perfect opportunity to prove he was. "I'm fine. Not even tired yet."
Raphael's return grin confirmed it was the right decision. "The night is young. I feel like we barely worked up a sweat."
Michelangelo trotted out of the kitchen with an ice pack and handed it off to Donatello. "You want something to drink? We have enough milk for cocoa."
"Sure. Why not?" Don applied a bit of pressure with the ice, and could already feel his jaw pulsing beneath his hand. The pain still wasn't bad enough to get him to retreat.
Leonardo reappeared behind the couch. "Should we have called Doc? His contract was pretty specific."
"Are you kidding? For this? It's not worth bugging him," Don assured him.
"You positive? It's your shell on the line," his oldest brother joked.
"I'm not going to get him up in arms over something this tiny. If he wants to give me a hard time later, I'll deal with it."
"How's it feel though? You're not really bleeding anymore."
"Doesn't surprise me. I told you it's not that bad, but I'll take a closer look to stay on the safe side. I'll be back in a minute."
The purple-masked turtle crossed into the Lab for a mirror, and heard footsteps follow him. He didn't look to whoever had entered until after he'd examined his own reflection.
"There's a good chance it will swell like crazy, but the ice will help. There are no fractures, and nothing is broken," Donnie determined.
He was confused by the blue-masked turtle's pensive expression in return. "What's up, Leo?"
"Nothing. I just...It's always a little awkward facing Latin Kings. I ended up cutting the night shorter than I wanted. It's amazing how my mind goes right back."
"It bugs me too," Donnie confessed. "Mostly because I still feel like ripping some of them limb from limb."
"The possibility to go too far exists every time we set out on patrol. But I think we contained it well tonight."
Don held his brother's gaze, attempting to determine what he needed. "You do the right thing, Leo. That's why we follow you."
Leo's smile lightened up his face considerably. "Finishing up early gives us a chance to carry on old traditions. Do you remember how to veg out with us?"
"Like Mike would let me forget? Even if I did, he's there to remind me."
The somewhat troubled look returned to Leonardo's eyes for an instant. "We've been missing you, y' know?"
Don couldn't understand what part of him Leo missed exactly, but forced a grin. "I'm still here. Tonight is about brothers, so...let's find ours."
The TV was on by the time Donnie and Leo returned to the living area. Raphael had selected a ridiculously old monster movie as the most interesting thing available. Gradually their attention turned to open mockery of the program, rather than seriously watching it.
They were roughly an hour in, when the red-masked turtle rose from his chair with a stretch. "We got more milk, Mikey?"
"I found an extra gallon in the back," the younger turtle mentioned. "April musta dropped it off. You want another batch of cocoa?"
"Think you might have used more chocolate than milk. I'm gonna measure it this time."
"Chocolate is the best part!" Mike protested, jumping up.
"Sit your shell down. I got this."
"We need more popcorn too," Leo added.
Donnie exchanged a worried glance with Mike. "Um, Leo? Maybe you shouldn't be touching the microwave again-"
"Relax, Don." Raph smirked. "I'll supervise."
Leo gave him a small scowl, and shared it with Don for his doubt. "I think you could use a fresh ice pack too. Give us a couple minutes."
The moment they left, Donatello caught his younger brother smiling out of the corner of his eye.
"You having fun, Mikey?"
"Yeah. I'm glad did this. Feels like old times."
Donnie nodded. "I suppose we should schedule them more often."
Michelangelo made a face at him. "No one should have to schedule fun into their lives, Don."
He shrugged. "Maybe it's the only way to get around the twelve projects I have going on at any given time."
"You do too much, Donnie."
"And you know why."
"I do. But you still gotta take more time off."
"Working on it, bro."
Roughly five minutes later, Raphael peeked out of the kitchen door.
"Hey, Mike, where are the new ice packs?"
"Raph, we had like twelve of 'em earlier. You can't tell me there's none in there."
"I don't see them."
"Do I have to prove you're going blind?" Mike hopped to his feet, and followed the red-masked turtle back into the kitchen.
An instant later, Donatello heard the younger turtle's surprised yelp, and shot upright on the couch. He dashed for the kitchen door, in time to hear Leo and Raph losing it on the other side.
"That's for this morning, ya little pip-squeak!" he heard Raphael triumphantly proclaim.
Don groaned, afraid to see what they'd done. Mike's pranks always seemed to backfire on him.
Michelangelo emerged from the kitchen a few seconds later, dripping with syrup and coated in flour.
Donnie couldn't help laughing, although he felt sorry for him. "Aw, Mikey...I warned you didn't I? Are you still gonna tell me that was worth it?"
"It always is, Donnie. It always is," Mike insisted, even as he walked into a table because he could hardly see.
"Do you need help?" Donatello refrained from laughing with difficulty.
"I got him, Donnie - you plant your shell back down," Raph ordered. He took the younger turtle by the arm to lead him upstairs to the bathroom.
Leo came out of the kitchen with a fresh icepack, and a feisty smile.
"I gotta hand it to you guys. Your timing was spot on." Don grinned back.
"Yeah well, he had it coming. Not that I expect him to learn anything from it. He never does."
"It's highly unlikely, Leo. But you can chalk it up to another normal night around here."
Luke came back down unannounced, around mid-afternoon the next day. He was thrilled to see Mike had saved some lunch for him on the side.
"It's like you knew I was coming or something." The man chuckled.
"Had a feeling, Doc. It's been almost 24 hours since you dropped in, so I knew it had to be soon."
"You're too good to me. You don't have to go to any trouble..."
"Nah, I can have this re-heated in like two minutes."
"Thanks, Mikey. Is Donnie around? Doing anything other than working for a change?"
"We showed him a good time last night. Now he's catching up. You know where to find him."
"I'll be back in a minute, all right, Mike?"
Luke ducked out of the kitchen, and trotted over to the Lab to see Donatello.
The turtle was just pulling a disk out of one of the towers when be entered, and uncapping a marker to make some notation.
"Hey, Donnie. How's it going?"
"Not bad, Doc. Give me a second to finish this." He turned to face him. "We had kind of a late night, so-"
"Whoa, Donnie, what did you do?" Luke demanded, striding forward for a closer look of his face.
Don was instantly sheepish. "It's no biggie, Doc. I had a small incident with a fountain last night."
"Why didn't you call me?"
"Because it wasn't serious. I'm not dragging you out for every little scratch."
"That's not a scratch, Don," he protested, lightly guiding his head to the side so he could see it better. "Are you keeping ice on it?"
"I have been, Doc. I just needed to get the rest of the program written."
"This could have waited," Luke chided. "Come back to the kitchen with me, and let's get a fresh pack on it, okay?"
Donnie followed him wordlessly out of the Lab, and into the wonderful-smelling kitchen.
"Hey, bro. I saved you some lunch too," Mike volunteered. "Both of you can sit down, because everything is ready."
Donnie found himself lingering longer over lunch than he normally would have, but Luke's company had a lot to do with it. The novelty of having a friend like him with which he could collaborate and relate wasn't lost on the purple-masked turtle, and he felt it probably never would be.
The extremely relaxed atmosphere became a little tighter the moment Splinter wandered into the kitchen. When the rat's eyes rested on him, the twinge in his gut became more pronounced.
"Are you feeling all right, Donatello?"
"Yes, Sensei."
"Are you finished eating?"
Don nodded.
"I would like a few minutes of your time."
Donnie swallowed, but meekly accompanied his Master back to the rat's own quarters.
"Sit down, my son."
He lowered into a chair, shifting his fresh ice pack awkwardly. "Um...am I in trouble, Master?"
"No, Donatello. I only want to follow up with you concerning the events in our home the other day. I was not satisfied by our talk, and I cannot believe you were either. I also believe I was rather abrupt with you, and wish to apologize. I stayed awake for a long time last night, thinking about what you said. What was your real purpose in surrendering to your older brothers?"
Donatello hesitated for a long moment. "It's uh...I just noticed that...well, it seemed like we were getting along better when I let him-them take the fights. But it might have been my imagination, or possibly I was being too sensitive. It doesn't matter, Sensei. We're fine, I'm fine...everything is fine."
A probing look from his Master indicated that he didn't trust the answer.
"Sensei, honestly, we'll be okay. We made up the other night, and everyone had a great time yesterday. Everything felt normal."
Splinter sighed softly. "For months, I have watched you quietly recede, Donatello. It has me concerned. Why won't you talk about this further?"
Donnie shook his head. "I...I'm sorry Sensei. I don't mean to shut you out. But I'm trying not to blow things out of proportion either."
"What is troubling you, musuko?" (son) "Does this have something to do with your brothers?"
The endearing Japanese term made him more emotional for some reason. "It's not them, Sensei. It's me. I'm the one who doesn't fit. I don't know why it's gotten harder...It just has."
Donatello leaned heavily against the wall inside his and Mike's shared bedroom, lightly fingering Jenna's medallion. It wasn't that he didn't want to talk about what was going through his head - he simply didn't really know how.
It was something he'd struggled to put into words even for Michelangelo. He didn't want to acknowledge the shadow of a dark cloud he'd lived under for months, or longing for the one thing he shouldn't want to have.
This is so pointless. Why did I ever agree to keep things up with Jenna to begin with? I knew from the start that it couldn't work. Now she tells me she loves me. What the shell am I supposed to say to her? How could I have let it go this far? I never wanted to hurt her. I know she wants to hear it from me too, but I can't do this to her. I just can't.
He sighed deeply, while attempting to stifle the grief growing in his chest. I would give almost anything for this to work. But it can't, it won't , not in the long term. All that remains is for me to find some way to convince her of that.