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Donatello watched the red head flee. Part of him was glad that Raphael had scared her. After all, she deserved it, didn't she?

Yes, she had but...

But, you wanted her to stay at the same time...

Donatello let out a low, uncharacteristic growl. Raphael, who was standing near the turtle, looked at him, giving him a look of understanding instead of one of shock as he'd thought he would.

"Even you ain't immune to anger, bro." Raphael said, softly enough so that only Donatello could hear.

The purple masked turtle simply grimaced at the truth that his brother spoke. He'd always thought he was a rational, calm turtle not capable of this kind of anger...this kind of hurt...

These last four years and today have taught you differently, haven't they?

It was a good thing it was justified, otherwise he would have been worried about himself.

Raphael in his own uncharacteristic gesture gave his brother's shoulder a gentle squeeze. This made Donatello look at him. More shocking still, Raph gave him a comforting half smile.

"Are you feeling alright, Raph?" Don joked, trying to diffuse the shock he felt.

Instead of irritating the turtle with his comment, Raphael only chuckled. "Yeah, I am." He poked Donatello gently in plastron. "Even a hot head like me can be nice from time to time."

And with that, he gave him a smirk seemingly returning to character and walked away, leaving Donatello alone once again with his thoughts.

Not liking the idea of stewing any further, he decided to check on his father. Donatello furrowed his eye ridges. Why hadn't the rat come out? That wasn't like him, even if he didn't like someone...

Curious now, the purple masked turtle walked to his master's door and knocked on it gently.

"You may enter." Splinter said softly.

Donatello slowly opened the door and walked into the room.

"Sensei, can I ask you something?" he asked, sitting cross-legged in front of the rat.

Splinter nodded.

"Why didn't you come out earlier?"

The rat was silent for a long moment before answering his son.

"I chose not to because she was dishonourable and lied our family and in doing so, hurt us all."

Donatello nodded in understanding. Anybody that that violated the rat's trust would instantly have the rat's contempt. He had little to no respect for liars.

"It hurts more that it was someone we trusted, Donatello...someone who we had once called a friend....worst of all, she hurt you..."

Splinter walked to the purple masked turtle and gently laid a hand on his head. "Do not think I have not noticed, my son."

Donatello's heart fell to his feet as he realized what his father was about to tell him.

"I have seen how you look at Miss O-Neil...I know that you have given her your heart."

This made him grit his teeth. So, was his father going to berate him for this? Punish him even? He didn't know...neither sounded good.

"I am not angry with you, Donatello." Splinter said, as though he heard his troubled son's thoughts. "For we can never choose who we love, but we can choose what we do about it."

Donatello murmured a response, then stood and left the room.

The first thing he saw was Mikey standing there, giving him a look of concern.

"I'm alright, Mikey." He said before his brother could speak.

Mikey shook his head, clearly not believing him. "Yeah, I'm not charming." He gave Donnie a half smile.

"How do you do it, Mikey?" Donatello said after a long moment of silence.

The turtle in question gave his brother a puzzled look. "Do what, bro?"

"How do you...how..." Emotion momentarily choked the purple-masked turtle. "You almost died, Michelangelo..."

This made Mikey frown, something he rarely did. "Yeah, I know..."

"Why aren't you angry at her?" There...he'd said it...The question he'd wanted to ask Michelangelo for four years...

Donatello watched his brother react to the question. First, there was surprise, puzzlement, then finally wariness.

When Mikey turned to look at Donatello, the turtle was taken aback. Never had he seen this expression on his little brother's face. He looked...defeated.

Immediately, Donnie berated himself for wanting to satisfy his curiosity.

"'Cause I didn't want her sick." He said simply and walked off to his room, coughing loudly a couple of times.

The sound was like knives to the purple-masked turtle's heart. Swearing under his breath, he stalked off to his room, wishing to all hell that April had not come back at all...


Oh, God no...

April collapsed onto her couch, crying hard. They hated her...they hated her...

The thought broke April's heart over and over again. How could she have let this happen? Why in the hell had she accepted that job?

April gripped one of the cushions lying on her couch. Worst of all, Donatello was angry with her. She hadn't wanted to believe it but now she had to...

That thought made the tears pour faster and her sobs wrack her body.

"I'm so sorry...I'm so sorry..." The reporter croaked out, even though nobody could hear her.

April didn't know how long she cried but when she finally was able to calm herself, she looked up at her clock to discover that it was about 8:00. This meant she'd spent most of the day crying her heart out.

A mirror was positioned on one of the walls in her apartment and April caught sight of herself in it. Seeing herself, she gasped. Her eyes were puffy and red, her hair a mess.

Anger bubbled inside her and she walked over to the mirror and glared at herself.

"You selfish fool!" she called out and punches the glass, shattering it. Feeling numb now, she gazed down at her now bloodied knuckles and just grumbled, not caring.

Never had she imagined that she could hate herself like this...

Sighing, now wary, April stalked off to bed with the hope that sleep might give her a short escape from her pain...