Misery

Donatello stood in front of a sea of friends and family, in complete misery. The tux he wore felt like it was constricting his shell. The bow tie felt like a snake coiling around his throat squeezing the air out of his lungs. The flowers were too sweet, and the scent of them made his stomach churn and threaten to dispose of his morning coffee. The soft and gentle violin that played in the background sounded like nails on a chalkboard and the laughter? The laughter was the worst, and all he wanted to do was tell everyone to SHUT. UP.

"Hey Bro! Isn't this totally awesome?! April and Casey finally married after ALL this time!" cheered Mikey in a loud whisper.

"Uh huh..." Donatello looked down at his clenched hands, sad brown eyes focusing on the cuffs of the tuxedo he'd helped April pick out because Casey couldn't be bothered with 'that wedding crap'. The flowers, the bridesmaids dresses, the cake with the raspberry filling... Donatello had a hand in it all. It... It had been an almost SICK desire that if he helped April plan her dream wedding: she'd see that her dream groom was in front of her and now off getting high on violence with his other brother. "Great..."

"Smile, Bro, its a wedding... People are staring at you worried that you're going to go nuts or something..."

"Not now, okay?" asked Don bitingly.

"Fine, whatever, man I thought you were over this crap."

"What?" asked Don, snapping his head up, but Mikey was instead looking at April. Mood suddenly more sour than a granny smith apple, Donatello pushed back from the wedding mentally and did his best to tone out the vows, the "I Do's", and the kiss that sealed the deal. All he could do, was stand there and watch, as the woman he loved since the age of fifteen, married another man... After the service everyone went to go eat and dance at the make-shift party room in the barn of Casey's farmhouse. Donatello stayed back, tempted to just hide in the woods until the night was over with, but he played best friend. He ate cake, despite it tasting like rotten fruit, and did his duty as long as he could. It wasn't until the end of the night that Leo stood beside him, hand on his shoulder.

"You did good, Donnie."

Donatello sighed. "Am I that obvious?"

"Kinda," said Leo. "Sorry..."

"I'm forever going to hate October 2nd, just so you know."

"That's fine."

"And I'm never eating another raspberry so long as I live."

"Okay."

"Leo?" asked Donnie, a moment later.

"Yeah?"

"Do you think it will get better? This... Ache?"

Leonardo wanted to just say yes, but he didn't know. He'd never been in love like Donatello. He'd had a crush, but never the gut-wrenching feeling of love that tore one up on the inside when it wasn't returned. Leonardo loosened his bowtie, buying time as he put the fabric in his tux pocket and undid a couple of the buttons at his neck.

"I don't know, Don, but I'm here if you need to talk. Always. Okay, Bro?"

"Yeah..." Brown eyes found that of April, in her white gown, arms wrapped around Casey Jones and head tilted back with a smile filled with love and joy on her face. "That doesn't help..."

"Sorry..."

"It's okay. Go back to the party. I'll be fine. I'm just... Going to turn in for the night. Okay?"

"Okay..."

Donatello turned away from his friends and family, and headed to the cold and empty house, embracing the misery that he'd felt: since the moment April had said 'yes' to Casey Jones.

.

.

.

Nickel

"What's that?"

"A jar of things."

"What kind of things?"

A five-year old Michelangelo looked at his brother Raphael. "Nickels."

"What'chu want nickels for?"

They lay on their plastrons, awake despite their father telling them to go to bed ages ago. They shared a room while Leo and Don shared another. Raphael always wanted his own room. Mikey was always messy and digging in his stuff but... Raphael also enjoyed the company at night. Like Mikey, he always had a hard time falling asleep right away. They were on the floor now, the dim light of the lamp beneath a blanket enough to see but also remain undetected from their father until he checked up on them in a few minutes.

"I dunno... Stuff?"

"Yeah, how you gunna get this stuff when you get the nickels?"

"I dunno..."

"Stupid," muttered Raphael, rolling his eyes, beating his pillow a bit before settling down.

"I-It's not stupid!" argued Mikey.

"Yeah it is. You gotta go up above to use those nickels and Splinter said we can't go there, that there are bad people up there who would take us."

"But..."

"You can't use those nickels," said Raphael. "So you might as well stop putting them in there."

"I'll show you," muttered Mikey. "One day, when we're bigger, we'll get to go up there, and I'll get something good with these nickels."

"Yeah, sure..." Raphael stood up, angry because he knew what his brother wanted, he could never have. None of them could. They were freaks, too different, and bad people would kill them if they could. He kicked at the jar, sending it rolling across the floor. "Yer so dumb!"

"Stop it!" shouted Mikey, tears in his eyes as he scrambled up to get his jar. "You are so mean, Raph! I'm never showing you my jar ever again!"

Mikey stomped to his bed and settled in, holding his jar tight. Suddenly, Raph felt bad. He knew he'd done a bad thing. He turned off the lamp then went to his bed. He was wide awake still, the guilt eating at him because he'd hurt his brother.

"I'm sorry, Mikey..." Silence. "One day, I'll go with you, and you can pick whatever you want, and I'll help you spend the nickels, okay?"

"Okay," answered Michelangelo a moment later. "Some day. Right?"

"Right."