Author's Note: There is some use of explicit language in this chapter. Normally I wouldn't caution anyone about this, seeing as this story is rated M for mature, but it's said quite a few times. Just a heads up, my dears. With that, enjoy!

Chapter Six: Trapped

Leonardo had watched his brother leave the lair that night with an uneasy and foreboding feeling building up in his chest. He'd told him not to go, had been on the borderline of ordering him to stay, even. But he thought that maybe his days of playing the leader were over, and testing this theory was the last thing he wanted to do. So he'd let Donny leave, a stern "Be careful" the last thing he said to him as the stone door slid shut. Now he was pacing, retracing the events of the night in an unending loop in his head.

The conversation had started innocuous enough. The two brothers had eaten dinner together for the first time in weeks, and Leonardo wondered what had made Donny emerge from his room. Certainly it wasn't the food- a couple cans of vegetable soup and a loaf of nearly stale Italian bread were hardly worth making an appearance over. Instead of asking, however, he'd simply made generic conversation, trying desperately to keep things as lighthearted as he could. They talked about April and Casey and the new place they were living uptown- where they had been now a handful of times. April, who was five months along in her pregnancy- and was starting to show more and more as the days progressed- had enlisted the help of Leo and Donny just last week to help Casey in the painting of the nursery. They spoke for a while on the ridiculously bright color of yellow she had chosen, and the comical way Casey had started to dote on her as if he were her hand-servant.

The brothers conversation had then moved on to Raphael and Theresa, who were planning a visit within the next few days, and speculation on the renovations of the farm house and when they'd be able to visit. While Leo knew they would be bringing Splinter with them on their visit, he still missed his father and their daily interactions, and he was eager for his brother and equivalent of a sister-in-law to finish the revamps they were making on the farm house so that he could visit more often.

"Do you think they might be taking a little longer than they need to finish?" Donny had asked.

"… Why do you say that?" Leo had set down his spoon, eye ridge knit in question.

"I dunno. I think… I think maybe they see this as kind of a… honeymoon."

Leonardo had raised a disbelieving brow at that.

"No, really, hear me out," Donny insisted. "They're finally together. Besides Splinter being there, they finally get to be alone. Theresa's not in danger anymore. They're secluded at the farm, they can walk around as they please and not have to worry about neighbors. I think, maybe, they're just enjoying being with each other. … Like a honeymoon…"

Leonardo reflected about that a while, letting thoughtful silence spread between them. "Maybe," he finally said. "I guess it would make sense."

Some kind of skepticism must have shown on his face though, because after a beat of silence Donny said, "Listen, I know you don't get it. I know you think Raph is being… silly. But… he's not, Leo. I know-" Donatello hesitated, tapping his fingers on the old wooden table as he tried to decide if he should continue. "I know what he feels like. I know… Jade and I…" He stopped again, looking down at his bowl of soup as if it might hold answers.

When it became apparent Donny was not going to continue, Leonardo pushed his own bowl aside. "I do get it, Donny," he spoke, watching his brother closely. "I get what Raph is doing. I know you guys think that I expected us all to live here in the lair forever. And maybe I did. But, I get it. He's in love. He has someone who looks at him and… doesn't see a monster. He wants to start a life with her, to try and be as normal as any of us can be. … I get it. And maybe I think it's only a matter of time before everything ends, but maybe that's just me being skeptical."

Donny nodded, but he did not raise his eyes to meet his brothers, and he said nothing. Leo sighed, pressing his lips together, wondering if he should push his luck so much as to try and console and advise his brother.

"Look, Donny," he eventually said, throwing caution to the wind. "I know you loved Jade. I know you have your reasons and I know the two of you weren't trying to hurt anyone. You're my brother Don, I know you and I know you never meant for Mike to get hurt."

Donny looked up and opened his mouth to speak, but Leo held up a hand to stop him. "Just listen," he declared. "I know all that. And… I want you to be able to talk to me about it. But first… Donny first you have to talk to Mike."

Donatello's look turned bitter. "He's not going to talk to me, Leo."

"It's been months since the two of you have spoken. I thought, once Mikey came back to the lair, you two would work it out." Leo ran a hand over his face, suddenly looking older. "And then Theresa gave him her apartment," he continued, "And I know that it's helping him get back on his feet. But Donny… we're brothers. Brothers, Donny. That means something. It's more than blood. We are the only four people in the world that know what it's like to be what we are. We are the only four people in the universe to see and comprehend some of the insane things that have happened to all of us. And this wedge between the two of you… it has to end Don. It has to"

"He's not the only one in pain, Leo. He's not the only one who lost someone."

"I know, Don. I know that. But he's got to know that too. And no one can tell him but you, he's not going to listen to anyone but you."

Donatello made a face. "I think you underestimate Mike's anger, Leo. I think you forgot what happened when he found out about Jade and… When he found out about us."

Leo had shaken his head then. He had not forgotten what had happened between the two brothers when Mikey had put it together that his Ex-girlfriend and his own brother had been together. That the reason she had broken it off three months prior was to begin a relationship with Donatello. That she had not, on the day she died, called Mikey to try and get back together with him, but instead to tell him that she and Donny were dating. She had died before she'd gotten a chance, brutally violated and mutilated by her attacker. And it had taken months for the truth to come out, for Donny to finally reveal - very much so by accident- that he'd been in a relationship with Jade.

The result was catastrophic. Leonardo had never seen Michelangelo so angry. He thought that perhaps Michelangelo had been in such a rage when he'd killed Jade's murderer, but Leo had only witnessed the aftermath of that event- his baby brother coming home covered in blood and looking utterly lost.

Leonardo pushed that particular image aside with some haste. The events of that night were scaring and traumatizing, not just for two of the brothers- but for all of them, and the sooner Leo could forget about them, the better.

"I think enough time has passed that Mike isn't going to react the same way he did before."

"So says you," Donny mumbled.

"Geez, Don, I'm not saying to go up there now," Leo huffed, feeling more and more frustrated. "All I'm saying is that this is something you eventually need to do. It's not going to get any easier the longer you wait. … In fact, I'd say the opposite would happen."

Leonardo looked pointedly at his brother, trying desperately to convey his point with his facial expression, before returning to his dinner. He hated this. Hated the separation of his brothers, both physically and mentally. He hated Raph being at the farm house, he hated Mikey being in an apartment topside, and he hated that Donny and Mike were no longer speaking to each other. Leo thought that he would almost rather the days of the past than this. That he would rather be staring down The Shredder with the looming possibility of death. At least, back then, they'd been a team, a family.

The loud scrape of Donny's chair pulled Leo from his thoughts. His brother stood and began to walk towards the lairs door without a word.

"What are you doing?" Leo asked, also standing and following his brother, stopping him at the door.

"I'm going to talk to Mike," Donny replied, jaw set in determination.

Leonardo grabbed his brother's arm. "Dammit, Don, I didn't mean now!"

Donny shrugged him away, instead grabbing the worn jacket that was tossed over the couch and slipping it on. "You're right, Leo. As always, you're right. I need to talk to Mike…"

Leonardo groaned in exasperation. "Don, stop being so bull headed. I just said you needed to talk to Mike, I didn't mean get up and go do it right this second. It's late anyway, he's probably asleep."

Donny looked at his Leonardo as if to say are you serious?

Leo grabbed his brother's arm once more, trying to hold him to the spot. "Seriously Donny, just stop and think about this. You are taking him by surprise-"

"All the better, then," Donny interjected. "He'll be more open to letting me have my say."

"You haven't even gone through this! Don't you want to think about what you're going to tell him?"

Donatello's eyes turned sorrowful then. "Leo," he began. "I've thought about what I was going to say to Mike every day since Jade died. I don't need to think about it anymore."

At that, Leo visibly flinched, as if stung by the words that were just spoken to him. His arm fell away, and after a moment of inner deliberation he nodded. "Fine. ...Fine, Don. Just, please, be careful."

Donny had given him a sad smile.

"I'm always careful."

"Does anything in nature despair except man? An animal with a foot caught in a trap does not seem to despair. It is too busy trying to survive. It is all closed in, to a kind of still, intense waiting. Is this a key? Keep busy with survival. Imitate the trees. Learn to lose in order to recover, and remember that nothing stays the same for long, not even pain, psychic pain. Sit it out. Let it all pass. Let it go."

-May Sarton, Journal of a Solitude

Michelangelo had known this was going to happen. Not tonight, certainly not tonight. But eventually, he knew, this would come to pass.

He'd just hoped it would be later than this. Much later.

He'd finished his beer, stubbed out his cigarette, and had finally felt the stress ebb out of his body. The earlier confrontation with Penny had upset him, and on reflection he thought that he had probably over-reacted. He was used to this- or at least, he should be. People were predictable, and seeing anything that questioned their own perception of normal would always frighten them. Still, even after all this time, it hurt. It shouldn't, but it did. Michelangelo shrugged it off, knowing there was no use being upset about something that was always going to be a constant in his life. He would always be a turtle, and so people would always react this way.

He stood, stretching, and went to the refrigerator, pulling out another Harp. He opened it and took a small pull, deciding to nurse this bottle instead of draining it down quickly, as he'd done the last. It was as he sat back down at the kitchen table, eyes skimming over the puzzle pieces spread out before him, that he heard the bedroom window slide open. Assuming it was Leonardo, there to visit and chastise him about his smoking habits, he did not look up.

"There's beer in the fridge, Leo," He called over his shoulder, fitting a piece of the blue Irish sky into place. He had the fleeting thought that this was late for his oldest brother to be making a house call. Then he heard the clearing of a throat.

Michelangelo stiffened. He felt all the stress of the day rush back into his body like a freight train, slamming into him and momentarily making him feel nauseous.

"Oh, you've got to be kidding me," he intoned, his eyes wide and angry and he turned to look at Donatello.

His brother stood there, looking awkward and cautious, his hands wringing together in an obvious show of nerves. His purple bandana still adorned his face, something only he and Leo still wore. Both Michelangelo and Raphael had abandoned theirs, both for different reason. But Donny, it seemed, was still content to cover his face with the cloth.

Michelangelo jumped out of his chair, causing it to fall backward and hit the floor with a loud clatter. He ignored it, too full of disbelief and fury to care.

"Please tell me what the hell you're doing here," Mikey snapped, his fists clenching at his sides as he tried desperately to bring his thoughts into order. It was hard to find a coherent one, though. Anger was coursing through him, making any rational thinking almost unfeasible.

"Please calm down," Donny said, raising both his hands in a silent plea for peace.

"Calm down? CALM DOWN?!" Michelangelo could almost spit as his anger flew to new heights. Everything he'd been trying desperately to ignore these past months, everything he'd been trying to pretend hadn't happened, was standing there in the middle of his living room, materialized anew. He took a deep breath, then another, looking at the ceiling as he did. His ears were ringing as he said, "Donny, I could just kill you right now. I could fucking kill you."

"I know. I know you're pissed. But please, just… just let me talk to you."

It took Michelangelo, still staring at the ceiling, a full minute to calm himself enough that he wouldn't fly into an unseeing rage. Finally he looked at his brother, his jaw clenched. "I have nothing to say to you."

Donny nodded, visibly hurt by the cold tone his brother had used. "That's fine, Mike. I don't expect you to. But, you need to hear what I have to say. And then… I'll leave. I won't bother you ever again."

Michelangelo took another deep breath, his mind racing. He knew- he'd always known- that this day would come. That one day Donatello would cast a shadow on his doorstep with demands that they talk about everything that happened between them. Trying desperately to gain control of his anger, he bent and up-righted his chair, pulling it out to face his brother before sitting down. He lit another cigarette, inhaling deeply.

"Talk," he bit. "The sooner you're done, the sooner you can leave."

Donny flinched, but nodded, resolved to see what he'd come to do through to the end.

"Fine," he began. "I guess I deserve this-"

"Damn right you do," Michelangelo interrupted hotly, glaring at Donatello.

"But," Donny continued, trying desperately to ignore his brothers menacing tone, "You have to know…"

Donatello sighed heavily, running a hand over his face. He walked to the table and, ignoring Mikey's sour look, took a seat across from his brother. When he saw it, he almost asked about the puzzle scattered over the table. But Donny pushed the question down, knowing that he no longer was able to converse with his brother in any other way but hostile. Steeling himself, he looked into his brother's face and tried not be hurt when he was met with blue eyes that were full of hate.

"We didn't mean to hurt you, Mike."

"Fuck you Donny," Michelangelo intoned, his voice flat and his eyes flashing with malice. "Fuck you, and fuck her. Why in the hell would you think you weren't going to hurt me?" His voice was rising now with each word, and he leaned across the table as if to punctuate his anger. "Why would you even do that?! I would never go and fuck your ex-girlfriend. I would never do that to you!" He stopped abruptly as he felt his rage mounting to the red filled haze once more. He leaned back hard in his chair, trying to breathe steadily through his nose to calm down. Noticing his cigarette had gone out, he took a moment to re-light it.

Donatello pursed his lips and nodded. "Just let me tell you what I need to tell you Mike," he all but plead. "Just listen, and then think what you will."

"So talk," Mikey scowled, deliberately exhaling the cigarette's smoke towards his brother.

Donny resisted the urge to cough, swallowing hard instead and nodding. He'd wanted to tell his brother so many different things for so long, but the words seemed lost now that the moment had come.

"Okay," he began apprehensively. "I guess… I guess I'll start from the beginning. I always knew that I liked Jade."

At this Michelangelo huffed, but Donny ignored him and continued on. "I knew that there was the potential of something more than friendship. But I never acted on it while you two were dating, Mike. I would never… I could never do anything like that. And the two of you were happy. I wasn't going to come between that- it was never even a thought."

Michelangelo made a face that seemed to say and yet that's exactly what happened.

Donny put up a hand. "I know, I know. I'm getting to it."

There was a moments silence before he continued. "She broke up with you. And it was so out of the blue, so… random. I had no idea why, Mike. You have to believe that. I didn't tell her to do it, I hadn't been seeing her behind your back. When she broke up with you, I was just as confused as you were. And the last thing on my mind was trying to hook up with your ex."

At this Mikey scoffed and said, "But you did Donny."

Donatello nodded once. "I did, Mike. But… it wasn't on purpose. I didn't set out with that intention."

Michelangelo rolled his eyes but said nothing, so Donatello continued on. "She called me, about two weeks later, in hysterics. I couldn't understand a word she was saying except that she needed to see me. I thought… I thought maybe she was in trouble, Mike. And then, when I got there, she told me everything. She said that as much as she loved you, for the past few months she'd started to see you as more and more of a friend. That she had to end it because she couldn't keep lying to herself. And then she told me she thought she was in love with someone else. … With me."

Donny stopped, closing his eyes as the memory cut into him. "I told her… that she was wrong. That she couldn't love me. That you… that you were the one she should be with." He looked at his brother then, but Mike's face was unreadable now, all but shut down and void of emotion as he listened to Donatello.

"I left her there that night, crying on her couch. I kept expecting you two to get back together. I kept thinking I'd hear you say that the two of you were dating again. But… it never happened. And the more time that went by, the more I thought of her. I didn't want to hurt you Mike, but I lied to myself. I told myself that I should go check on her. I waited two months before I finally pushed my conscious aside and went back to her place."

What had happened once he got there lay unspoken between them. Donny did not need to explain this part of the story, because it was quite clear.

"I loved her, Mike. I hated that I did, but I did all the same. After… I was a mess. I told her we needed to tell you, that you had to know. I begged her to let me talk to you. But she… she was so worried about hurting you. She wanted to wait, to give you more time to get over her and move on. And I was so nervous about how you'd react that I let her talk me into waiting, too. And then, a few weeks later, she decided she wanted to move into a better neighborhood. There had been a few break-in's at her complex, and she didn't feel safe…"

Donatello took a moment to breathe, pushing back all the raw emotion he felt. Finally he said, "She wanted me to move out with her. We'd only been together a few weeks, but she said that she didn't want us to be apart any more than we already had been. I guess… I guess I agreed. The thought of living with her, of waking up next to her… I wanted that. I told her that the only way I could even consider it, though, was if we could tell you everything… And she agreed. We talked about what we wanted to say and how we wanted to say it, and then she called you. It only took her about a minute after she hung up the phone to tell me she wanted to talk to you on her own, that she didn't want me there."

Tears threatened to arise, but Donatello, whose voice was now scratchy and full of pain, blinked and held them back. "I left her there, Mike. I didn't want to be there when she told you. It took about a minute before she had me convinced that she was the one who needed to tell you, not the both of us. That it was her cross to bear, that's what she said. And I knew, I knew you were going to be pissed with me. I knew I deserved it, and I just wanted to avoid it for a few more hours. So I left. I left happily. Glad I didn't have to confront you, glad that she wanted to talk to you on her own." Donatello was heaving with emotion, the confession twisting into him like a knife. After a moment he added, "…The guy… Parker, he must have been at her apartment less than a minute after I left."

Michelangelo's eye twitched at the mention of the name of Jade's murderer, but he said nothing. His cigarette had been long forgotten, resting between his two fingers, unlit once again.

"I think about that day all the time. About how, if I had been less of a coward, she'd still be alive. I would have been there to protect her when that guy showed up. She'd still be here with us, with me. Instead she suffered… I should have stayed, Mike." Donny voice cracked as he said once more, "I should have stayed."

Silence, so thick that it seemed to be physical entity, hung between the two brothers.

"Please, Mike. Please say something." Donny was close to losing himself in sorrow and guilt; he could feel it there on the cusp of his being. His emotions threatened to tumble over him, and it took everything inside of him to keep them at bay.

"You have to go now," Michelangelo finally said, his voice flat, his eyes refusing to meet his brothers.

"Mike… Mike you have to know I didn't want to-"

"Go, Donny!" Michelangelo snapped, and as he said it his eyes swam with tears. "Please, just get out."

Donatello met his stare for moment before nodding. "Okay. Alright…"

He stood, rooted to the spot for a moment as he watched his brother's jaw work in an effort to hold back his emotions. He wanted to comfort him, and he knew with a sad realization that they were well past that.

"I'm sorry Mike."

Donatello said nothing else then, leaving Michelangelo behind and exiting from the bedroom window out onto the fire escape. He was able to hold everything together just long enough to close the sewer drain above him. Then he collapsed onto the cold brick, burying his head into his knees and sobbing mercilessly.

In his apartment, Michelangelo hung his head and did the same.

It's hard to see you again
Caught in a trap that you cannot escape
It's hard to see you again
So bored of being alive

- Lazarus, By Placebo

Author's Note: Review, my loves!