Well, I'm sorry. That's all there is to say, I guess. I fell out of the TMNT fandom for the most part, but because I am attempting to write again, I thought I'd start with my most successful story. I tried to look back and catch the wave of writing dialogue which used to come so naturally to me, it was a struggle at first. To other writers out there, I will say this. Writing is as much a skill as anything else, and if you don't use it, you'll lose it. Fight through writer's block and KEEP WRITING; even if it's not something of consequence. So with that, I present the next chapter (four years late), but better late than never huh?
Chapter 22-
Splinter exhaled closing his eyes. He counted to ten before opening them again. "Donatello, where are your brothers?"
Donatello blinked rapidly at his father as if he was trying to clear his eyes. His mouthed worked up and down but nothing came out for a moment. Just when it looked like the genius had pulled himself together to speak, a loud belch came out and the alcohol in his stomach was suddenly on the floor.
Casey jumped back with a startled, "holy shit!" and did just avoid the backsplash.
Ever the parent, Splinter was instantly at Donatello's side with one hand on his son's shoulder, rapidly steering him to kitchen and to the garbage can. With a groan, Donatello heaved again in between muttering rapid apologies. Sorry for the mess. Sorry for getting drunk. Sorry for everything. Splinter was sure he heard his mention something about being sorry for watching inhumanly flexible women and wanting to move to Queens, but he couldn't be sure.
Something cool and wet pressed up against the back of Don's neck as he sunk to his knees. It took him a moment to realize that Splinter had gotten a washcloth from the sink and was now trying to soothe his ailing son. The rat was murmuring reassurances in calm Japanese when the vomiting turned to dry heaves and then finally ended altogether. He helped his son to his feet and to the sink.
Donatello could only follow and try to catch his breath. The room spun so quickly, and he felt unsteady on his feet. The turtle placed one hand on the counter to steady himself and Splinter caught the other hand, putting a plastic cup of cool water into it.
"Rinse." Splinter directed, his tone calm, but Donatello was sober enough to detect the other emotions just below the surface.
Casey stood in the doorway of the kitchen, wisely keeping himself out of the situation. If he thought he could make it, he would have made his escape attempt a long time ago.
Don did as he was told, rinsing his mouth out several times. It didn't help much, and he still felt very loopy.
Splinter took the cup and refilled it before handing it to him again. "Drink." He left his son for a second and retrieved a chair before pushing Donatello gently down into it. Don stared at the cup in his hand, debating the intelligence of the current directive.
"Drink." Splinter's voice was stern this time. "Slowly. You will get dehydrated."
Don took a tentative sip. When his stomach didn't rebel, he took another one.
Splinter's eyes flickered to the human in the doorway. "What did he drink and how much?"
Casey jumped as if he'd been stung. He wasn't expecting Splinter to be addressing him at that moment and it took him a minute to collect his thoughts. "Eh…two…beers at my place. And then…" He gestured to Don. "I guess a few rum and cokes from what Don just said." Casey's eyes widened at the look he was getting. "I swear, Splinter. I thought he'd only had one! I didn't know he was refilling his glass."
"Not Casey's fault," Don murmured staring at the cup in his hand.
"No," Splinter said. "It's not." The Sensei took a deep breath. "But we will talk about that later. When you are…sober."
Don nodded and then immediately regretted the action when the room lurched again.
"Drink." Splinter motioned to the water and then looked up again at Casey. "Were the others with you?"
Casey shook his head slowly. "No. Don showed up at my place alone. Wanted to apologize about earlier."
Splinter considered that for a moment and gazed down at his son. "You left your brothers." It wasn't a question. "Where?"
Don's eyes were focused on his cup, and he wasn't ready to look up at his master. "I uh…" Why was it so hard to form a coherent thought? He'd helped Raph often enough when his brother had too much to drink. He didn't remember Raph ever having a hard time talking. If nothing else, his brother talked TOO much when he was drunk. "The roofs. Somewhere. Mike was annoying."
Splinter turned away from his son, withdrawing the small cell phone from a pocket. He stepped into the next room, past Casey, and started to press buttons.
Casey took one nervous look at Splinter and then came over to Don. He knelt down in front of the turtle. "Don, dude. I am so sorry. I didn't think.."
"Not your fault," Don said. "Mine. All mine."
Casey exhaled. "Yeh, but I shoulda been watchin' better. Next time…"
Don looked up too fast and groaned at the feeling in his stomach. He took a moment before he was sure he wasn't going to puke on Casey. Again. "No next time. Never gonna drink again." He took a quick glance to where his father disappeared. "Never gonna leave the lair again, prob'ly."
Casey smiled faintly. "Can't say it wasn't fun."
Don tried to glare and then gave up. He snorted. "Kinda." He put one hand over his eyes and groaned, the cup nearly falling from his hand. Don put it down on the floor beside the chair.
Splinter came back into the kitchen and Casey stood up quickly. "They are not answering." He looked down at Donatello. "Were they still patrolling when you…slipped away?"
Don nodded once, finally looking up at his father. "Runnin'. A lot." Simple sentences were easier. The turtle noticed he was still losing letters somewhere along the way. He waved one hand toward the phone in Splinter's hand. "GPS can tell you where they are."
Splinter looked at the phone. He had a hard enough time dialing the infernal thing. What in the world was a GPS? Don held out his hand for the phone and Splinter gave it to him somewhat hesitantly. In normal circumstances, he didn't doubt his son's knowledge, but this was not normal circumstances.
A few taps to the keys and the GPS map sprang to life. It should have only been one tap, but Donatello's fingers seemed too big for him all of the sudden. Don spun the phone around so that the screen was facing his father. "All still together." He motioned vaguely to the three dots on the screen. "Av'nue C."
"I can go look for them," Casey volunteered. Hell, anything to get out here.
Splinter took his phone back. "No. I will." He looked at his son, debating. He didn't want to leave Donatello alone either. Not in the state he was in. Don's head had tipped forward and he groaned every few seconds.
Casey swallowed hard and then cleared his throat. "I'll stay with'em. Least I can do. I'll uh…clean up too."
Gross, Casey thought. Way to bite the bullet there, Casey. Oh God, Splinter, please say no.
But whether divine or karma, life had its own way of punishing the stupid.
Splinter nodded and then caught Donatello's arm before pulling his son to his feet. Don was rapidly fading, so Casey was instantly on the other side, helping the turtle into the living room.
Between the two of them, they maneuvered Don onto the couch and onto his side. Splinter picked up his walking stick from beside his chair.
"I will return as soon as I can," Splinter said, though Casey knew the rat well enough to detect the worry in his voice. Whether the worry was for Don or the other three or a combination of all of them, Casey didn't know.
"I'll watch'em."
With one last look to his inebriated son, Splinter was gone.
Casey took in the stench and sight that surrounded him and went for cleaning supplies. "This is the LAST time I take any of you to a strip club."
Hours Earlier….
Much to Leonardo's annoyance, his little brother and pseudo-leader showed no signs of tiring of this keep away game. They hadn't done anything in the way of patrolling all night. All they had done was try to catch up to Mike and listen to his taunting. At one point, when Raphael was close enough to him, Leo swore he heard Raph mention something about using one of Mike's vintage comics as toilet paper. He shook his head and ran to catch up to Mike once more. He hazarded a glance behind him to see Raph just a few feet back, and Don…was nowhere.
Leo skidded to a stop, nearly causing Raph to collide with him. As it was, his brother had to leap and dive over Leo, skidding across the rooftop on his shell.
"What the hell, Leo?!" he barked when he finally came to a stop and flipped back to his feet.
"Don." Leo said and whistled loudly trying to signal Mike to stop.
Michelangelo slowed and then turned seeing that his team wasn't with him anymore. With a shake of his head, and hands on his hips, Mike jumped from the roof he was on to the where his brothers were.
"I did not call for break time, gentlemen."
"Shut it, dumbass," Raph snapped. "Where's Don?"
"Don?" Mike looked around, in confusion.
"Yes," Leo said frustrated. "Don. Donatello. Your brother."
Mike's eyes widened for a moment. "He was just here…wasn't he?"
"Ain't that your job to be watchin' for your team, Oh Fearless One?" Raph crossed his arms. He wasn't too worried. If he was in Don's place and Don was in his…which was kind of the case…he would have ditched a long time ago too.
Mike was silent for a moment. "No problem." He grinned. "I'll just call him." The defacto leader took out his cell and phoned his missing brother. He smirked at his brothers and waited. Waited. Waited. No answer. Mike lowered the cell, slowly. "He's not answering."
"Great," Leo sighed, his mind spinning through the possibilities and options.
Mike glared at Raph. "This is all your fault."
Raph's angry gaze snapped to Mike. "What the hell? MY fault? How is this MY fault?"
"Because if you weren't you, then Don wouldn't be him right now!" That sentence made sense to no one except Michelangelo. Mike took a breath. Being leader sure made his blood pressure sky rocket. "Ok ok. It doesn't matter that this is all Raph's fault.."
Raph took a breath, ready to let loose, but Leo just shook his head and pointed. Raph's eyes followed Leo's gesture and his breath came out in a gasp.
"What we have to do, is find Don," Mike continued.
"Mike," Leo said.
"We can talk about how this is Raph's fault later." Mike studied his phone deep in thought.
"Mike," Leo repeated.
"Maybe he just went home."
Raph rolled his eyes. "Oh for fuck's sake. MICHELANGELO." He was drawing his sai.
Mike looked up quickly and then he saw it too. "Uh oh…" The Foot Clan. There were maybe a couple dozen of them on the next roof over.
Leo already had his swords out and into a defensive posture. He almost said something, but then his gaze went to Mike. "Now what, Fearless Leader?"
