Donnie sat on his bed, taking deep breaths, mentally punching himself for his reaction to seeing April awake. He was relieved that she was awake—he really was. So why did he feel this way?

That mixture of sadness—sadness that she was in the state, sadness at his own failure to prevent it—and anger. The latent anger that he'd been suppressing due to his fear that she would never wake up had jumped out the minute relief had swept over him. He had to leave or he knew that he wouldn't be able to keep all of his accusations in—and yelling at April was that last thing that he wanted to do.

Yet the questions he wanted to ask—the things he wanted to say—were so pressing and painful that he knew he'd have to address them at some point.

How could you do this me? How could you be so selfish? Did you even think for a second about how much this would hurt all of us?

On a certain level, he understood that psychological trauma came into play. It was unfair to blame her, which is exactly why he knew that he needed to get out before he started yelling things he was going to regret. April was probably upset now—he hated the thought of her crying—but better that he say nothing than start unloading all of his pent up anger and fears on her.

I'm sorry, April, he thought, I promise I'll come see you when I've calmed down.

There was a gentle rapping at the door. "Donatello?"

Upon hearing Master Splinter's voice, Donnie groaned inwardly. He didn't want to talk to anyone. Nevertheless, he rose and opened the door. "Hai, Sensei?"

Splinter said nothing. He just thoughtfully looked down the bridge of his long pointed nose at Donnie. His pensive look was completed by the absentminded stroking of his beard.

In response, Donnie could only hang his head in shame.

"Anger is a curious thing," Splinter said, "so similar to grief. It is the mind's response to injustice, whether actual or perceived."

"I'm not angry at April, I just—" Donnie sputtered.

"But you are angry, Donatello. You are hurt by what April has done to herself, and therefore, to you. It is a natural reaction."

"It's not her," Donnie said. "It's me—it's Shredder, it's the Kraang—"

"It is many things. Including her. Do not lie to yourself. Accept this truth."

"I shouldn't be angry at her, though. It's not her fault…"

"Is it not?"

"Not completely, anyway."

"So she is partially at fault, then?"

"Yes—no, Sensei! I don't know! What do you want me to say?"

Splinter was silent for a moment. "You can never move past this if you do not forgive her. In order to forgive her, you must admit she did something which requires forgiveness. She made that choice, Donatello, regardless of what caused it. Ultimately, that belongs to her. It was a mistake, for which she is sorry."

Drawing a deep breath, Donnie put his hands over his face. "I'm so confused, Sensei. What I'm feeling is totally illogical."

"Neither feelings nor logic matter in this," Splinter said, "because forgiveness is neither of those. Forgiveness is an action."

"How can I forgive her while I'm still hurting so badly?"

A sad smile crept across Splinter's lips. "That is the harder question. It is a question which requires wisdom and discernment."

Donnie looked back at Master Splinter. Splinter always seemed to have everything figured out, despite the fact that he seemed to embrace a series of philosophical contradictions. "I was an idiot to run out of the room like that."

"Hm," Splinter said, running his hand down the length of his beard. "Perhaps. I am sure she would like to see you, but you would do well to wait until you have calmed down."

"Really?"

"Yes. That was your intention, was it not?"

Donnie nodded.

"Do you need more time?"

"I think—I think I'm ready."

"Don't worry April, Donnie's just being an idiot. Splinter's gonna talk some sense into him."

Somehow, Mikey's words did nothing to comfort April. Nevertheless, the warm hug he offered her at least provided a shoulder to cry into. "He hates me," April moaned.

"The day Donnie hates you will be a cold day in hell," Raph said. "He's just…well, I don't know."

"Listen, April," Leo said, laying a hand on her shoulder. "We were all really hurt by what happened, but none of us hate you. Especially not Donnie. But—he took it really badly."

April's weeping renewed. None of them were helping. No matter what they said, the fact was that Donnie had left without saying a word.

When the lab door opened and Donnie stood in the doorway, April continued to cry.

The three other turtles beat a hasty retreat, leaving the two of them alone.

"April," Donnie said. "I'm sorry for leaving like that. It's just—I've been so worried, I didn't know how to react." He came over to her and wrapped her in a warm embrace. "I'm so glad you're awake. I"—his voice cracked—"thought I'd never talk to you again. I couldn't stop having nightmares about finding you all cut up and bloody."

"I'm so, so sorry!" April groaned. "I didn't mean to; it just happened."

Donnie kissed her gently on the cheek. "I forgive you." He cradled her for a few minutes.

Gradually, April's weeping subsided as she lost herself in the comforting circle of his arms. When she thought about how he must have felt this whole time, she wondered how he could still love her. How any of them could still love her. "I'm so sorry," she whispered again.

"I forgive you," Donnie repeated. He drew a sharp breath. "I just can't stop asking myself—why'd you do it, April? Why?" His voice was raw with pain.

"I don't know what came over me," April said, choking up again. "I just felt so naked and exposed. I just…just…I thought Shredder was going to come for me again, and I couldn't take it anymore. It was like I lost control. I'm so sorry, Donnie."

Donnie suddenly pushed her back and held her at arm's length. He frowned. "What made you think that?"

"Well, Casey came up to me at school today—or, that day, I guess. He wanted to make up, and I thought that he was just on Shredder's arm again."

"What?" Donnie's eyes lit up with rage. "Casey talked to you?"

"He said he was sorry for what he did, that he still loved me…"

"Don't worry, April." He wrapped her in such a tight embrace that she squeaked from the pain. "I'm never going to let Casey hurt you again."

"Could you stop hurting me, first?" April whispered.

"Sorry!" Donnie cried, letting go. "Are you okay?"

There was a pause. Then, without being sure why, both of them burst out laughing simultaneously—and their laughter was abruptly silenced when they pressed their lips together in a long kiss.