Don looked at the figures again and sighed.
“There’s no doubt, now,” he muttered to himself. “Crap, crap, crap . . .” He stretched his ample muscles, and grimaced at a twinge in his right arm. He brought it down rubbing it. “Getting old,” he said to no one in particular. And he could remember the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles . . . he laughed, despite the news of despair projected on his screen.
He wondered if he should call the others now; glancing at the clock, he realized it was 2:30 in the a.m. already. Well, Leonardo at least would be awake; that man hardly ever slept. He started reaching for the phone, but stopped when he realized what he had just thought. “When did I start thinking of Leo as a man?” He realized, with a start, that he thought of all of them as men, now. It must have something to do with not hiding in the sewers, being accepted as valuable members of the community.
He sighed. Too late to be thinking of this stuff. He glanced at the screen again. Too late to be thinking of anything. He turned the screen off and headed for his bedroom. “I’ll tell them all tomorrow,” he said to himself as he was crawling between his covers. For a moment he envied Raph; he would be sleeping next to his beautiful wife while Don slept alone. Then Don remembered what he’d confirmed tonight, and he envied no one. Well, he thought, we’ll see if we can do something about it, tomorrow.
“Honey? Are you awake?” Mezcal nudged Raph gently. “Hon?”
“Mmmph,” Raph said, his head buried in his pillow. He lifted it slightly to squint in the dark at the fox like form that lay next to him. “What, babe?”
Mezcal was silent for a moment, then “Have you thought about it?”
“Um. What, exactly, is the it you are refering to at this point in time?” He turned on his side and put an arm around her.
“What Don said the other day.”
“My highly esteemed brother said alot of things the other day. What particular thing do you mean?”
Mezcal gave Raph a look. “Quit talking like him, will ya?” Raph cracked a grin, but said nothing. “Anyway, what he said about, you know, the thing.” She turned toward him as she said this, and a few locks of her long, dark hair fell over her shoulder. Rapheal fingered it gently.
“I married you for your hair, you know.”
“Rapheal.”
Raph sighed, then hugged Mezcal close.
“You mean about the baby thing.”
“Yeah.”
“Yeah, I thought about it.”
“And?”
“And? Hmmph. The truth? I never expected to be a daddy. Geez, I never expected to be married! I mean, of all of us, Mike shoulda been the one to get married. Heck, he shoulda been the one to have kids. He’s just a giant one himself.”
“Not so much anymore. And he is a father, many times over. Just because they’re not genetically related doesn’t mean they’re not his kids.”
“Yeah,” he paused. “But now, I have a chance, thanks to Don, to have my own kids. My own kids! And they’ll be mutant, but at least they won’t be furry turtles, and . . . they’ll be ours. Yours and mine.” Mezcal said nothing; she didn’t need to. Her eyes, that Raph could see regardless of how dark it was, held the question and answer. “Mezcal, you know I love you. You got me this far,” he took a deep breath, “and I think we can take it a bit further. Yeah. Lets have a kid,” he paused again, and glanced a t Mezcal. “That is, if you want to. . .”
“Jerk!” Mezcal said, scooping up a pillow and attacking Raph mercilessly.
Don sat at the end of the large conference table, a cup of hot chocolate in his hand. Unlike Mike, he never did get used to coffee. He needed the caffine though, after last night. He went over the notes in his mind again. His brothers would be there soon, and he’d have to explain it right the first time. First, he’d have to explain the science involved; that alone would be a chalenge. Then he’d hit them with. . . .
The door suddenly crashed open. Mike sauntered in, a box of doughnuts under his arm, a cup of coffee in his hand. Not styrofoam, Don noticed. No, everybody got together and made sure nothing was made of styrofoam anymore. Don sighed as Mike plunked into the chair next to him.
“Doughnut?” Mike inquired.
“Got a chocolate one?”
“For the chocoholic? Of course,” Mike grinned impishly. With a flourish he opened the box, and Don picked out a particularly gooey one. Mike grabbed an apple fritter, and streched his legs out on the table. Once comfortable, he looked over at Don. “So, what was so urgent?” Don shook his head.
“Wait,” he said.
Mike looked at Don intently. “That serious, huh?”
“Oh yeah,” Don answered, sinking back in his chair. “Definetly that serious.”
There was a pause. Suddenly Mike broke out in one of his old goofy grins. “Oh well, just as long as I can still order pizza and go surfing,” he said is his best valley accent. Don smiled despite all of his woes. Mike may take things more seriously than he used to, but at least he didn’t always ACT more serious.
There was a knock at the door. Before Don could respond with a “Hello” or a “Come in” Raphael entered, wearing his baseball cap and bomber jacket. He setteled into the chair oppisite Mike with a sigh. He wore a slight smile and a dreamy expression not commonly associated with Raph.
“Hi guys,” he said.
“What’s up with you?” Mike blurted.
Raph grinned conspiratorially. “I’ve got a suprise,” he winked at Don. “But first, I wanna know what you called us here for. Mez is takin’ care of the place, but I still. . .”
“I can’t tell you until Leo gets here.”
“Ah, shoot,” Raph said with uncharacteristic indifference. “Well, I might as well tell you my news, then. Mez and I have decided to take you up on youe offer, Don.”
Don looked startled. “What offer was that?”
Raph grimaced at him. “You don’t remember? Geez, something this important and he doesn’t even remember. Well, I’ll tell ya. . .” There was a pause that Don would’ve called “pregnant,” and then Raph finished his sentance. “I’m gonna be a daddy. Or, er, a father.” Raph stumbled over the words, trying to find the right one. “Or at least, we want to try.” He looked over at Don, who was staring at him in shock. “You do remember, don’t you?”
Pregnant was the right word, Don thought. He did remember; his company had developed techniques. . . and he had told Raph, the only one among them who could possibly use them. And now. . .
“I don’t know if that would be such a good idea, Raph,” he said slowly.
“What? Why? Don, you’re the one who suggested to me in the first place!”
“I can’t tell you why until Leo gets here. But. . . if I were you, I’d hold off on this.”
“WHY?” Raph demanded. He was leaning forward in his chair now, and his knuckles were white.
“Let’s just say I’d rather not have your children growing up without a father.”
Raph said nothing, and neither did anyone else. What finally broke the silence was the entrance of another member of the group.
“You’re late,” Raph snarled, turning his anger towards Leonardo.
“I had to finish with my students,” Leo said calmly, sinking into the chair next to Mike.
“Your students mean more than us, now, I suppose.”
“That is not fair, Raphael. I am their sensei. You know I cannot just dissapear. Would Splinter have done that to us?”
“As a matter of fact, YES, Leo. He did, on occcation.”
Leo shrugged. “I did the best I could.”
“Well. . .” Raph broke off, and sighed. “Yah, you’re probably right Leo. I’ve just had a bad day. Sorry.” Raph turned to Don. “Anyway, what is it?”
Don sighed. For a while he thought he and Mike would have to tear Raph and Leo apart, just like the old days. But, he thought, we’ve all grown up a little. . . time to tell them.
“It’s the end of the world, Raph.”