Michelangelo sipped the protein rich drink like a good patient along with Rebecca, casting the young woman a smirk from across the table. "Kinda funny to be on the same medicine, isn't it?"
She smiled back at him, with one of the most relaxed expressions he'd seen from her in weeks. "I guess it could taste worst," she replied.
"It's really not bad." Michelangelo rested his chin in one hand as he continued gazing at her.
Rebecca had experienced a number of days without any real energy, which coincided with another treatment she'd received to ward off the possibility of miscarriage. It was three days before Thanksgiving, and Mike was relieved that he'd wheedled the docs into holding off on the second round of stem cells on him until after the holiday.
It'll be nice to have a couple more days without the stress of all of it. I'm looking forward to having as normal of a holiday as we can, and it will be good to see Victoria and Tim again. I still feel kinda bad about them being in New York, with the rest of us down here.
The curly-headed woman's forehead furrowed curiously. "What are you thinking, Mike?"
"Looking forward to Thanksgiving," he told her. "Just think. By this time next year we'll already be parents, getting ready to celebrate our first holiday season with our baby."
She smiled and nodded. "We will be."
"And all of this stupidity with me will be behind us," he added.
The first round of treatment had left the orange-masked turtle with fear and concern in its wake, but the success Caleb had experienced in getting the iPs cells to transform properly was encouraging. Even on the days when he wasn't feeling anything close to normal, it was easier to maintain a good outlook with that knowledge.
"We'll get through it," Becky said, her voice softening. "I'm supposed to be creating one of the desserts for the big meal, so you need to be thinking about what you want me to make."
The turtle nodded eagerly. "I'll have a list of possibilities before the day is over."
She laughed, swirling around what was left of the liquid in her cup.
Mike saw her eyes drift to the window, and cleared his throat. "Y'know, just because I'm on a leash doesn't mean you are, Beck. If you're feeling up to it, you should explore some."
"Oh sure, so I can get attacked by wolves."
"Says the 'Jungle Girl'," Mike teased. "I mean it. You should get out there with one of my brothers. I know you love this outdoorsy stuff."
Becky nodded. "I might, if I'm feeling up to it."
"Do you ever miss the rainforest?" he asked. "I mean, you went from one extreme to another; from the middle of nowhere, to being dropped inside New York City. That's got to be an awkward experience."
"There are certain things I miss about the Congo," she allowed. "Mostly it's just being in the right place to help people. I was in the position to communicate and translate with the natives, and help them get the things they needed. I'm still an advocate in raising funds for them, but I do miss the hands on portion sometimes."
"I wish I could do it with you," he murmured. "I wish we could both go."
Becky gave him a bittersweet smile. "I stand by my decision, Mikey. My heart will always be moved for the Congo, but I don't feel guilty for choosing to stay in the US. Guilt isn't the right reason to serve anyway."
"So you're not sorry you followed this big hunk of a turtle back to New York City?"
She giggled, and the sound was music to his ears.
"No, I'm not sorry. Greg was right before, even if he passed it off as a joke. Once you go 'turtle', there's no turning back."
Mike felt something weaving around his feet, and glanced down expectantly to see the orange and white striped cat. "If you wanna eat, Tiger, that's the wrong place to do it."
He pushed back from the table and began searching through a particular cupboard that he thought the cat food was in. Becky got to her feet, and reached into an upper cabinet to his left, fetching a can for the turtle.
"Tiger thanks you," he said seriously, snapping the pop-top lid off the can. The cat meowed insistently as he picked up her bowl off the floor. "The dogs already ate, right, Beck? I don't want them getting into her food again."
Becky smiled. "She's gotten good at not leaving it unattended."
"Thereby proving that you can teach an old cat new tricks."
"Tiger's not that old, is she?"
"She's no spring chicken. We think she was a few months old when Raph first brought her home."
"I can only imagine your Sensei's reaction."
Mike grinned. "Nah, he was okay with it. She was more scared of us than anything, but Tiger got over it pretty quick. It only took her a couple of days to realize that we weren't the big bad wolf."
The turtle had no sooner put her bowl down, than a black and white head nudged through the door.
"Noah, no," he said crossly. "You already had yours."
The border collie came in the rest of the way, his tail thumping against the table as he panted hopefully in the middle of the room.
"Give him a treat, Mike. He's too cute to ignore," Becky suggested.
"I'm the only one who falls under that category."
Rebecca bumped his shoulder intentionally before reaching for a box of biscuits on top of the fridge. She tossed one toward the dog, and Mike laughed at his lightning reflexes to catch it.
"He could almost be an honorary ninja."
"Have you ever seen him jump?" Becky gave him a secretive smile. "Caleb showed us the other day."
"Is he pretty good?"
"You should see him go for a Frisbee. There's a reason border collies are always winning dog agility competitions; they're extremely athletic."
They left Tiger alone to eat, and Mike shooed Noah out of the kitchen with his foot.
"Do you wanna play?" Becky asked the dog, and Mike noticed the way Noah's ears perked up. "You want to play Frisbee?"
Noah barked excitedly, prancing with anticipation as Becky headed for the front door. The black hoodie Mike was already wearing was sufficient to keep him warm outside in the cooler temperatures. The orange-masked turtle gazed at their surroundings silently.
This isn't something I can get used to; at least, I don't want to let myself get used to it. Many of the leaves had already fallen from the trees, but the landscape was still impressive in its scale.
Luke, Brandon, and Caleb were already sitting on the porch.
"Is the Frisbee still out here?" Becky asked.
The older man got to his feet to retrieve the disc from the corner of the porch, and then Caleb followed Rebecca and Noah down the stairs. Mike wanted nothing more than to run around with the dog, but he couldn't move that fast without getting lightheaded. Molly was sitting at Luke's feet, and she wagged her tail as Mike came over to sit with the men.
The turtle stretched a hand down to pat her head. "Good girl. Nice doggy."
Brandon grinned. "You've come leaps and bounds, Mike."
"They're cool. I just hope I get the chance to actually play with them," Mike returned.
"Well, Molly's stuck in the same boat as you, at least until her leg heals," Luke pointed out. "She'd enjoy hanging out with you."
"Only 'cause Don's working." Mike snorted.
Luke shook his head as Brandon laughed.
"How's the shoulder feelin', Bran?" Mike asked.
The man had been going without the sling for a few days now. "It's fine. I haven't had any serious pain in a while. I think I could start working out full-time before Christmas."
"And I still think he needs to take his time," Luke said.
Michelangelo smiled at the doctor. "Same story as ever, huh, Doc? Why should it change now?"
His attention was drawn to the grass as Caleb threw the Frisbee, and Noah leaped into the air to catch it. The turtle whistled as he continued the watch the exhibition of the dog's gravity-defying skills.
"He's really good," Mike commented. "Where did he learn to jump like that?"
"It's a natural behavior," Luke replied. "People have just learned how to encourage it."
"I'd like to see someone try to fence them in." Brandon chuckled.
"The amount of excess energy those dogs carry is only equivalent to one other person I've ever known." Luke fixed Mike with a smile.
"Remind me what that was like, will ya?" Mike said impishly. Luke grimaced, but the turtle's smile didn't falter. "It's okay, Doc. I'll get there."
The blond man nodded firmly. "You certainly will. We've made some good progress with the iPs cells. We already know they can regenerate your tissue, now it's only a matter of shutting down the cells that are still attacking your lungs."
"Hey, are you still up for checking your storage stuff in the basement?" Mike asked suddenly.
"What stuff?"
"You know, Christmas things."
Luke laughed. "Can we get through Thanksgiving before I have to think about Christmas?"
"It makes Becky happy," Mike told him. "I understand if you don't want to use your old things. I know there are memories and all."
Luke smiled a little vacantly, in a way that made it seem he was looking at something that no one else could see. "I don't mind using the old stuff," he said. "Those memories don't make me sad anymore. I'm happy to be here, Mike, though I wasn't sure if I would be. I loved growing up in this house, and part of me thought it would feel empty without my parents. But it isn't empty. It's fuller than it's ever been. I'm glad I get to experience another holiday season here."
Brandon silently gazed at Rebecca and Caleb playing with Noah, and sighed heavily. "It's a great place, Luke. I don't envy a lot of things that other people have, but your parents have to be one of them. I mean...I had a good mom, who took care of us and loved us until the day she died. But when I start to look back at my life, most of the time, I wish that I hadn't. No matter how hard my mom tried, there was always a dark cloud over special occasions for me."
Mike stayed quiet, and let Brandon have the reigns of the conversation. The man wasn't in the habit of talking about his past, and any time he volunteered information, Mike was prone to pay close attention.
Brandon continued after a moment. "When I was a kid, I used to imagine my dad would come back. I'd make up these games where he was a good man, and we were still a family. I probably did that until I was about nine years old. That was when I figured out that I was fooling myself, and there was no sense in crying anymore. So I stopped."
"What do you mean, you stopped?" Mike asked.
"I didn't want to waste another tear on that man, and I haven't. To this day I don't feel like crying - only pummeling him for what he did to Karina a few years ago."
"You really never cried over your dad again?" Mike verified.
"I'm not saying there's anything wrong with crying, Mike. I just don't do it."
"Ever?" Luke spoke up.
Brandon shrugged awkwardly. "I have regrets, I feel sad about things...but no, I don't cry."
"Dude, everybody's gotta let go at some point," Mike said.
Brandon continued staring at the scene in the grass without looking at the turtle. "I just don't, Mike," he said finally. "But it's a moot issue now. He's long gone with Kari's money, and I honestly don't want him to be found. I don't ever want to have to look at his face again. I'd rather forget that he exists."
"But you wouldn't exist without him," Mike ventured. "Sensei used to say that unforgiveness is a poison that destroys you from the inside out. It's not even about your dad, Bran, it's about you. Don't you wanna be free of him?"
"I am free of him, and I couldn't care less if he abandoned me as a kid. I got over it. I learned how to be strong without him. But I'm not okay with him hurting my mom, and I'll never be able to deal with what he did to Karina. He's the poison that's been at the root of most of the trauma in my life. Why would I want to see him again?"
"I think what Mike was saying, is that you're hurting yourself more by hanging onto these feelings than you would be in letting him go," Luke said quietly.
Brandon shook his head. "Neither of you understand this. You had good fathers. We all lost them, but yours didn't do the things mine did. There's not going to be a 'Marcus' style reconciliation, like he had with his dad when he came back from the Congo. It isn't going to happen. If I ever have to see Carl James again, he's going to get more than a piece of my mind. He'll be swallowing his teeth."
The note of finality in Brandon's voice told Mike to leave it alone. Shell, it's no wonder he's got a short fuse, carrying around something like this.
"So, um...I figured you might want to check out the stuff in the basement with me," Luke said to Mike, beginning again as if nothing had happened. "We'll have to sort through it, so we know what else we need to pick up. One thing is for sure: we're going to make this Christmas special. We've got each other, we've got the kids...and we're going to have a good holiday. But we do need to focus on Thanksgiving first," he finished wryly.
Mike grinned. "Raphy won't be able to escape the parade this year."
"Are they still having that?" Brandon sounded surprised.
"They scaled it back, but yes," Luke replied. "The city needs some sense of normality."
"And Raph's got a kid now, so Liv needs to watch it to see Santa," Mike added.
"Yeah, Mikey...let me know how that argument works out for you." Brandon smirked.