Michelangelo took a deep breath and released it slowly, enjoying the sense of renewal that the atmosphere seemed to infuse into his spirit. The early morning fog was clinging to the forest floor around them, and reminded the orange-masked turtle of what it might feel like to run around on an alien planet.
The novelty of being able to run around without getting out of breath hadn't worn out yet. Mike was so excited he could hardly contain himself from dashing off into the distance. He cast a glance over at Donatello and found his older brother already looking at him.
"Just a little further?" Mike suggested hopefully.
The purple-masked turtle smiled. "Okay, Mikey. They are expecting us to come back sometime before lunch, you realize. Are you always going to be this difficult to rein in?"
Mike stuck his tongue out at his brother. "No harder than normal, Don. Give a turtle a break, huh? I haven't had any fun in months, and I've got a lot to make up for."
Don chuckled. "Why does that strike terror in my heart?"
Michelangelo was relieved to get the opportunity to see some of the Blue Ridge Mountains closer up before they had to depart. Greg was returning with the Gulf Stream in two days, and they would be leaving Lotus Salvus behind. He was ready to see the city again, but today, he was also enjoying the beautiful spring morning.
He and Donatello had made a point of taking several small trips like this one over the last couple of weeks, and Don had shown him several of the places that he and Leo had already been. Mike regretted that Raphael still wasn't up for running on the rough terrain, but the red-masked turtle was getting around the house easily, and even using the stairs now.
Michelangelo came to a stop inside a partial clearing where the sunlight was filtering through the new greenery on the trees and the lingering mist. "We have to come back here," he proclaimed. "Just wrangle up everybody and the kids, and fly down here a couple of times a year. Doesn't that sound great?"
Donny nodded. "It does. This place has been a godsend in more ways than one, and I'd be sorry if we didn't get to see it again. The next time we come back, it'd be nice to just enjoy it for the refuge that it is."
Mike wiped away an imaginary tear. "You have such a way with words, Bro."
"Ha – coming from the writer. Speaking of which, has Aidan made up her mind about which guy she wants to end up with?"
"Nah. Maybe she won't end up with either of them," Mike teased, just to get a rise out of him.
"That's not funny, Mike. You didn't put her through all of that just for her to walk away empty-handed, did you?"
"Her brother is safe, isn't he?"
"Yeah, that's great, Mike, but really…You can't end the story that way. Who is Aidan in love with?"
"I guess you're going to have to wait a little longer to find out, Donny. I haven't worked out all the kinks."
Donatello scowled at him. "Put down the video game controller and write, Mikey. I'm going to shoot Becky for giving you that game."
Michelangelo chuckled, inwardly enjoying the new method of torturing his brother by withholding details. Gotta keep him hungry for more.
He didn't bother arguing with Donatello a couple of minutes later, when his brother mentioned that it was time they started heading back. The fog was beginning to burn off in the morning sunlight, and Mike was starting to look forward to getting home for breakfast.
Mike stopped on the edge of the tree line to gaze at the incredible house once more. "She's such a beauty, Don. Y'sure we can't stay another month?"
Donatello gave him a wry smile as he shook his head. "How about we try to enjoy the rest of this morning?"
"Oh, all right," Mike allowed, following Don's lead as he started toward the house.
Before they got to the porch, however, Mike settled down on the ground, and patted the earth beside him. Donatello obediently lowered to the grass, stretching out both legs the same way Mike was already doing.
"You're looking good, Mike," he said with satisfaction.
"I'm feeling good, Donny."
Don grinned. "I take it you want a couple more minutes to stretch in the solitude of nature before we join the madhouse?" he joked.
"I'm just taking it all in, Bro," Mike returned, more seriously than his brother had probably expected.
They lingered just off the porch as the sun traveled higher in the morning sky, and Mike swore he could sense the temperature rising. He sighed contentedly at the good feeling the workout had produced in his body, but then began wondering about breakfast again.
"What do you think they're cooking in there?" he asked Don.
His brother shrugged. "It'll be good, no matter what it is."
Goosebumps rose on Mike's arms as he sensed movement over his shoulder, but his attention was suddenly drawn by rapid movement to his right. Donatello was lunging to his feet, but not quickly enough to beat Raphael's head start. Mike barely had time to watch the red-masked turtle plant a firm hand on his brother's shoulder to keep him on the ground, before his own vision was blotted out.
He gasped under the cold cascade that covered his head, even as he spun to try and escape Leonardo. His invisible foe was impossible to wrestle, and Mike settled for trying to rub the substance out of his eyes. The orange-masked turtle met an unexpectedly sticky residue that must have been part of a second wave. Before he could say anything, Mike heard a surprising growl out of Donatello's mouth.
"Congratulations," Don announced with a hint of anger. "I didn't think it was possible to hate this stuff more, but you just proved me wrong."
Michelangelo could Raphael barely stifling a chuckle.
"I think you'll live, Bro," the red-masked turtle replied.
"I think you better back the shell up before I forget I have to take it easy on you."
Raphael laughed. "Note to self: Cream of Wheat puts you on Donny's bad side."
The purple-masked turtle muttered something darkly, before addressing him again. "You're going to pay for this, Raph. Pay," he emphasized.
"I'm shaking in my shell, Genius."
Leonardo shoved a dampened towel into his hands, and Mike rubbed his eyes fiercely. Michelangelo shook his head at the sight of Raphael leading a somewhat sullen Donny toward the house. "Raph doesn't know what he just got himself into." He whistled.
Leonardo's guilty gaze followed the pair as they entered the house. "It's my fault. I didn't know he hated it, or I wouldn't have…"
Mike laughed. "Leo, he's fine. Don's just irritated enough to make it necessary for you and Raph to sleep with your eyes open for a couple of months."
"Don't tell him it was me."
The orange-masked turtle grinned deviously as he threw both arms around Leo. "Now would I do something like that, Bro?"
By the time Mike and Donny returned into the kitchen from cleaning up, breakfast had been in full swing for at least an hour. Jenna shook her head sympathetically as she directed the turtles to the table.
"I'm sorry, babe," she said to Donatello. "I should have put two and two together when your brothers were rummaging through the cupboards."
Don waved her off. "Raph will get his, but Mikey honestly had it coming from Leo."
The orange-masked turtle pretended to give him a hurt look. "You won't be defending Leo when you find out the whole story behind his retaliatory strike."
"What story?"
"Not now, Don, I think I'll save it for another day."
Jenna chuckled as Donatello's brow furrowed. "You usually have it coming anyway, don't you, Mikey? Trouble could be your middle name."
He shrugged innocently. "I'm only trying to liven up someone else's day. Is that such a crime?"
"Only when you drag me into it," Don said dryly.
"There's plenty of food left," Jenna mentioned. "Did you guys have a good run?"
"Yeah, we ended up going a little further than we planned," Donatello replied, relaxing as he wrapped his hand around the mug she'd just set in front of him.
Jenna gazed at him wistfully. "For your sakes, I'm kind of sorry we have to go back."
The purple-masked turtle nodded. "Our freedom is definitely more limited in New York, but none of us are ready to call it quits. You want to go home, don't you, Jen?"
"Wherever I am with you is home, Don," she reminded him.
Michelangelo grinned at the adoring way his older brother looked at the young woman. Those two have stood by each other through so much stuff. As much as they love each other, I hope they get a shot at a kid too.
Jenna had never said a word about her desire to have a baby in Mike's earshot. In fact, the young woman had taken intense pains to communicate how happy she was for both Karina and Rebecca. To the orange-masked turtle, her clear emphasis on reinforcing how glad she was for the other women was proof to Mike that she wanted it too.
She just feels like she has to hide it, for whatever reason.
He knew the young woman well enough that he recognized what she was trying to do, without even being forced to ask Donatello about it. A wave of sadness washed over him, but Mike tried hard to squelch it. Bigger miracles have happened, right? I shouldn't even be alive. Shell. That's scary to think about. If the docs hadn't found a solution, I'd already be dead. Mike shivered involuntarily at the thought.
"Mike?" Jenna's amused tone broke his serious contemplation. "If you don't want your breakfast, I'm sure Molly and Noah would be happy to take it off your hands."
He hadn't even noticed that Jenna had set the plate in front of him, or that the two border collies were hovering hopefully at the edge of the table.
Mike grinned. "Do I come and beg from you guys when you're eating?" Yet he took pity on the "starving" animals by breaking a slice of bacon in half, and tossing a piece to each of them. "Now, that's it. Go give the googly eyes to Donny, because I couldn't care less."
"Stick to your guns," Caleb advised from the door. "They'll walk all over you if you let them."
"Good morning, Caleb," Donny greeted the man.
"Hello, everyone," he said pleasantly. "I understand I already missed some fun by sleeping in for the first time in three years."
Donatello snorted. "That depends on your definition of 'fun.'"
Michelangelo kept his snicker to himself, because he knew how much his brother really did detest Cream of Wheat.
"Let me fix you a plate, Caleb," Jenna offered.
"Thanks, I appreciate that. I need to get on the road shortly."
"You're leaving already?" Mike squeaked.
Caleb nodded. "I have to get a jump on packing. I won't have to pack the whole house at least, because a lot of things never even came out of boxes from moving in a few months ago."
"Geesh, and now you get to turn around and sell it?" Don groaned. "That's not inconvenient or anything."
"The old way isn't enough now, Donatello. A life with nothing but work won't satisfy me. I don't see that as a bad thing."
He cast a smile toward the orange-masked turtle, and Mike tried to smile at Caleb normally. Neither he nor any of his brothers were comfortable with the way their friends often had to bend so far to be close to them, but Mike knew better than to protest.
None of 'em do it because they have to. We've never forced anyone to follow us, or tried to tell them what to do. Can we help it if we're so lovable?
The light thought broke his somber brooding, and he instantly reached for his fork to dig into his pancakes before they got any colder.
"There isn't very much of a middle ground with us, Caleb," Donatello warned. "Either nothing is happening, or we're on the brink of insanity."
"I've traveled a rather unpredictable path myself between research and discovery, but it was always performed in the protected environment of the laboratory. I took my first free steps in years in your presence, and I'm not ready to go back to prison." Caleb rested a hand on Donatello's shoulder in an almost fatherly gesture. "I've heard people talk about being ruined for the norm, but I never understood what they meant until now."
Michelangelo laughed out loud. "If you're searching for the most unique experiences in your life, you've come to the right crowd, Caleb. Welcome to the family."