The Text

Her T-phone had sounded its text chirp five minutes ago, but April still sat on her bed at her apartment, staring at the screen. She read the words over again, wondering why she didn't just go ahead and answer them.

No. She knew why. It was the memory she'd been replaying in her mind all day, like a scene from a movie too disturbing to forget.

"And thanks for your help, April," Donnie had said last night after he'd been cured of the brain worm serum's bizarre effects. But he still didn't realize everything she'd done. Not everything. She was sure of it.

Oh, he remembered part of it, all right, the part where he'd zoned out in the Shellraiser and forgotten how to use the mutagen scanner, a thing he'd invented in the first place. He remembered the way she had to grab it away from him, use it, and then keep an eye on him while his brothers took off to try to bring down the Creep and a new version of Snakeweed. That was right before Donnie ran off. Ran off. One minute he was right beside her, the next he was nowhere to be found.

Freakin' ninja.

April squeezed her eyes shut to make the text disappear for a moment. At least his brothers had been able to find him quickly, before he got himself into one of a million kinds of trouble. Sighing, she wondered for the thousandth time what good her stupid sixth sense was if it took that long to alert her that there might be something wrong with Donnie.

Why hadn't she realized sooner? She'd watched, confused, as he'd called Mikey by the wrong name and forgotten how to sweep the lab, of all things; a task he could probably do in his sleep after having to clean up Mikey's messes in there all the time. She'd been shocked as she watched Donnie seemingly discover the tire swing for the first time and dance around with I-Scream Kitty on his head.

She was more worried for him than she'd ever been.

She kept it together in front of Leo, Raph, Mikey; she kept it together in front of Splinter. Then the guys had left in the Party Wagon to waste the newly-combined Creep and Snakeweed, or Creepweed. She asked Splinter if his healing mantra could help Donnie. Master Splinter doubted it, but as soon as the guys left, he tried it anyway. She held Donnie's head in her lap, stroking his face and trying to keep him calm while Splinter chanted over him.

Splinter was right. Of course it didn't work.

"Perhaps I should take the advice I gave to you, April. I will take a step back from the problem. Are you certain you are able to watch him? If so, I will go to the dojo and seek a solution through meditation. I hope there is something obvious we have overlooked."

April looked away from the lines of stress so pronounced they were visible even on Splinter's furry face, down at Donnie's half-closed eyes and slack jaw. He was either calmer or more catatonic; she couldn't really tell which. "Hai, sensei."

And then she was left all alone with Donatello, and she was done keeping it together.

Her tears flowed and she let them, pouring out all the terror she felt for Donnie when he'd done all that stupid crap like jumping in front of the Shellraiser when she'd tried to ram Creepweed with it. What if Raph hadn't pushed Donnie out of the way in time? What if they couldn't come up with a cure for him? What if his awesome, brilliant, amazing mind was dulled forever?

Pull yourself together, kunoichi, she told herself. And then she gently slid her lap out from under Donnie's head and tried anything and everything she could think of to bring him back.

She splashed his face with ice water. She brewed strong herbal tea and put it under his nose and poured it down his throat when she got no reaction. She screamed at him. She punched him in the plastron, and then felt terrible for doing it. It didn't help anyway, and before she knew it her tears spilled over again. She called herself an idiot and tried to stop, but couldn't. The thought of losing him, losing everything that made Donnie Donnie was too much.

And if that was the way she felt, then…

April jumped back from him, freaked out by her own feelings. She wondered for a second if she would be trying so hard to revive Donnie if Casey was standing there watching her, trying to hide his jealousy and making veiled "I thought you were my girlfriend" remarks.

Yes. She knew she would.

The emotions that startled her weren't new—she'd just been telling herself they didn't exist for such a long time that they shocked her for a moment. She felt like she'd found a diamond she'd carelessly shoved into a dark corner and forgotten about.

You're a kunoichi, she told herself again, suddenly shaking her head. Stop taking emotional inventory and do something.

Propping Donnie's back up against the couch in the pit and leaning in until she felt her heart pound against his plastron, she kissed his lips.

After a long while, she pulled back, surprised and sad. She'd been so sure that would wake him up; he'd wanted that for so long. But the sudden wild reaction she'd expected didn't happen. She let go of him and turned away, clenching her fists to keep from crying again.

Then she realized he'd kissed her back. His mouth had clung to hers as if he could pull some sweet cure from it. He hadn't just sat there comatose. The real Donatello was in there, somewhere, after all.

Maybe it was Mikey's lucky—miraculously lucky—mixture that had finally brought Donnie back later, but it made her smile now to think that she had a hand in it too. One of these days, she would tell him and they would have a good laugh.

Besides… maybe, just maybe, she'd wanted that kiss as much as Donnie had.

The text on her phone right now was just a distraction, just words on a screen clouding her already mixed-up feelings. Hey Red whatup. Feels like a year since I saw u. Miss u girl. Wanna go out tonight?

Casey. He was strong, fearless to the point of being crazy, but he wasn't a ninja. April's skills had improved—Master Splinter had told her so—but she still wasn't the level of fighter she wanted to be: the guys' level. Casey also couldn't touch their skills, and probably never would. In situations where April couldn't protect herself in this insane city that got more insane all the time, Casey wouldn't be able to protect her either. Donnie would. Donnie would make sure she was always safe.

April tilted her head, staring at the text but not seeing it.

I'm sorry, she whispered to her phone, and texted a response.

Making sure her tessen was tucked into her belt, she walked to the window and opened it, savoring the fresh night breeze against her face before she stepped out onto the fire escape. Silent in the dark, she climbed to the roof and ran toward the lair, knowing Donnie would be waiting for her, knowing she'd definitely kept him waiting long enough.