Don't Let the Sky Fall Down On Me

Summery: Sequel to "Sick" and "Judgement Day." (NO NEED TO HAVE READ THEM!) Don slips up. Raph freaks. Mikey's terrified. And Leo's heart gets just a little bit more broken. A family-centric fic.

Author's Note: Because this is longer, I'm going into chapter mode. After "Judgement Day," two people (my only reviewers) asked about what it was exactly that pushed Don over the edge. Realizing I hadn't addressed it before, I thought now would be a good time to bring it up. As is the pattern with these stories, what seems to be now a trilogy, it's all in Raph's POV, in case you can't tell. So all he knows is what Don tells him. Also, you see a lot more of how Leonardo reacts (again through Raph's eyes). As well, April finally makes an appearance, and Mikey watches Little Shop of Horrors. With cameos by Ren and Stimpy. GOD I hated them as much as Raph did though.

CHALLENGE!!!: Listen, I've been watching the Turtles for YEARS and I STILL can't write Mikey like... well... So this is MY challenge to YOU! I need ideas, tidbits on Mike's thoughts. I love him as much as I love the others, but his character eludes me. I try in this, but you see that I don't delve into his thoughts as much as I do with the others. So in your reviews, give me your thoughts on how Mikey would react in this kind of situation. If you want, you can even write a paragraph and send it to me at . If I like it, I might just add it in the fic (may be edited slightly) (and I'll give you credit, of course ;-)). So PLEASE, I am desperate for your feedback on Mike (as well as the entire story) because I would love to show his side as well, I just don't know how. So GO! Read my story, then add on your own piece!

If you ran to the end of the earth
I would catch you and you would be safe
If you fell down the well
I would bring you a rope and take all of the pain
All the pain, all the pain
That you hide from me everyday

Chapter One: What Are You Afraid Of?

The day was dark. Above ground, it was raining, which meant the waters in the sewers were higher than usual.

She arrived coughing and sputtering, and when she threw off her coat, which was drenched completely through, it was all I could do to not laugh.

April O'Neil stood in our livingroom soaking wet, her hair a mass of tangled locks, dripping like sponges onto our floor. But her expression was priceless. Her face screwed up in utter detest, it was obvious she was uncomfortable. Splinter was immediately hy her side with a towel.

"I am sorry you had to make the trip in this weather," he said sincerely. "I wish I could offer you some warm clothes."

"That's OK," said April, sullenly. "I brought some myself." She lifted up a gym bag which looked as though it had been thrown into the river. Splinter laughed.

"I shall dry those clothes for you," he said, insisting on taking her gym bag. As he left, I looked across from me and noticed it was taking all of Mikey's effort to contain his own laughter.

"Not funny," said April, noticing our mute amusement. Instantly, our faces were wiped clean of any hint of a smile, but I looked at Mikey and neither of us could help ourselves. We burst out laughing. April sighed and looked around uncertainly.

"Hey," said Mikey, his laughter disappearing as he realized her intentions. "We just got a new couch, April."

April glared at him menacingly.

"Don't be stupid, Mikey," said Leo as he walked into the room, giving April a warm smile as if she wasn't soaking wet. "April, sit where you want."

"Just put a towel down first," I said and Mikey and I laughed again. Although it seemed Leo agreed, as he had three towels in his arms already and spread them over an armchair. April thanked him and joined us.

"So what made you come down here in this weather anyway?" Leo asked at an attempt at conversation. April looked positively irked.

"Casey is driving me nuts," she said at last. The three of us grinned, knowing all too well how Casey could act as a house guest. "And when I left the house to get away from him, I didn't realize it was raining that hard. But when I did realize that the water was pelting the pavement like bullets, I didn't care. I couldn't stand him for another minute."

"Yeah, we know what you mean," said Mikey with a light chuckle.

We talked for a moment about things that didn't really matter until Splinter returned with April's clothes, which were now dry. Thanking him profusely, she snatched them from his paws with greedy enthusiasm and took off to change, taking some of Leo's towels with her.

Splinter looked at the three of us in some confusion. "Which one of you made Miss O'Neil venture to our lair in this storm?" he asked, accusingly. Collectively, we all shrugged.

"Don?" Mikey suggested. I hit him and he pretended it hurt. Everyone ignored him.

"She came of her own free will," I said. "Or rather, Casey forced her out of her own apartment."

"Ah," said Splinter, nodding in immediate understanding. "Is he not yet allowed to return to his own home?"

"The fumes haven't faded yet," said Leo.

"And I think some of the roaches are regrouping," said Mikey. "I was there yesterday and despite the green smog, I swear there were hundreds of the things crawling all over the place. They're like, super bugs."

"It seems as though we can expect many more visits from Miss O'Neil in the future," said the rat with a wry smile.

"That's what you get for bombing your own place with chemicals," I said, shaking my head. "I told him he shoulda just hired an exterminator."

And speaking of chemicals...

"Where is Donnie anyway?" I asked, looking around at my brothers and Splinter. Neither one had an answer.

However, as April entered, she said, "Hey, is Don OK? I heard him in his room, he sounded–"

"What?" I said, jumping to my feet, my voice tense. I don't know how I knew, but something just didn't feel right... Mikey and Leo were watching me curiously, while Splinter was eyeing me in anxiety.

"What is wrong, my son?" Splinter asked, warily.

"The door was locked," April said with a shrug. "I couldn't–"

And in a flash I was past her, running to my little brother's room with Leo and Mikey right on my tail.

I knocked on Don's door, a courtesy I hadn't observed six months ago when I walked in on him trying to cut his arms with a kitchen knife. "Donatello, you OK in there?"

There was a groan and something was thrown at the door. I closed my eyes, and for a moment, I wished the whole world wasn't watching me at that time. Praying for silence, and that my family would disappear, I leaned in to the door.

"Don," I whispered solemnly. "We talked about this. You made me a promise."

It pained me to think of what Leo and Mikey thought of those words, let alone Splinter.

"Go away!" was Don's reply strained. I looked around at the baffled faces and shrugged.

"Sorry, Sensei," I said to Splinter, before kicking down Donatello's door.

He was on his hands and knees, his room more of a mess than it was the last time I'd entered uninvited. Leo pushed past me and kneeled next to our brother, putting a hand kindly on his shell.

"Don't touch me!" Donnie yelled, yanking away from Leo's touch. He was astonished with Don's coldness. Startled, I could see that our once Fearless Leader... was afraid.

"Get out of the way," I said rather rudely, pushing Leo aside and grabbing Don by the shoulders. I forced him to his knees and made him look me in the eye. "Don, man, Don, tell me, what happened? What did you do, man? Where's the knife? Where's the bottle?"

These words made no sense to the assembled crowd, and that's why I was so vague. I didn't want them to know, just like I knew Don didn't want them to know. Just as I didn't want them to know about my own shameful past. But Don knew exactly what I was talking about and through hazed eyes, he mocked me.

"Knife?" he said with a shaking laugh. "Oh, Raph, you know me better than that!"

I was unsure of what he meant by this, but I knew what this strange stupor must mean, so I returned to my second question.

"Where's the bottle?" I said sternly. Don merely burst into hysterics and his head lolled, but I wouldn't let him do this, not now. I shook him, vigorously, but he kept laughing, his head rolling back and forth with my shaking.

"Damn it, Don, don't do this, where is it???" I demanded.

He grabbed my own shoulders and tried to mimic my serious expression but failed miserably.

"Raphy," he said, the drunken laughter in his voice. "The bottle doesn't matter. It's what's in here," he pointed to his head. "Not in here," and he pointed to his heart.

An eery sense of twisted Deja Vu overcame me and I let go of his shoulders.

"And," he said with a ridiculous giggle. "What's in here!" He pointed to his open mouth and down his throat. I shook my head, devastated and disappointed.

"Oh Donnie..." I said, sadly. "I really hoped you wouldn't do that."

Don laughed even more. "You called me a coward, Raph. I'm proving I'm not a coward."

"What?" hissed Leo at last, glaring at me accusingly.

"He doesn't know what he's saying," I explained quickly. "I never said anything like that."

"No, no, no," said Donnie, shaking his head. It must have made him dizzy because he stopped and blinked before he continued. He shook a finger at me. "I distinctly remember you saying that... that living was the coward's way out."

My eyes doubled in size. "Don, no!" I declared, snatching his shoulders again immediately. "I didn't say that, I didn't. I said you were the brave one. Remember? On your bed. You're braver than I was, remember? Remember?"

Don gave a slurred scoff and turned to address Leo and the others. "This guy," he said, jolting a thumb at me. "Is afraid of... the water!" and he burst in to fits of uncontrollable laughter.

Mikey, Leo, April and Splinter all seemed to cock an eyebrow at me. I ignored it.

"Yes, Don," I said to him. "I am. I'm dead afraid of the water. And I'm dead afraid of losing you to it. Remember?"

Suddenly, Don sobered up, and nodded seriously. "I remember." he said. I smiled. But he burst out laughing again. I got to my feet and stared desperately at April.

"He's sick," I told her, hoping she'd know what to do. "He swallowed some pills and I don't know what he took or where the bottle is."

As if to underline my words, Don started retching. In horrified concern I was at his side again, slamming him on the back of his shell.

"Donatello!" I called. "Don, where are the pills, we can help you!"

Don closed his eyes and tried to collect himself as he pointed to under his desk. Against the wall, an empty bottle was on its side. I snatched it and read the label, even though it made no sense to me. And I knew it would make even less sense to my brothers or April. Even Splinter couldn't guess how these chemicals worked on a mutant turtle. I wished more than anything else in the world at that moment to have my brilliant brother back. My Einstein Donatello.

I was at Don's side again. "Don," I said, shoving the bottle in his face. "These were made for humans."

He knocked the bottle out of my hand.

"Shut up!" he screamed. "Just shut up..." And he started to cry. I couldn't bare it. He was sick, he was dying and I was helpless to stop it. I jumped up and backed away, letting Leo and Splinter swarm in on him. April and Mikey stood by the door, probably feeling more helpless than I was.

More than anything, I knew it was eating at Leo, though. He hated to feel weak more than I did. And he knew he couldn't do anything, but he wouldn't accept it.

Neither would I.

"No..." I whispered, then squeezed my eyes shut. "No!" This wouldn't happen again, I wouldn't let it, I wouldn't let it. Still, my arms became itchy and I scratched them absentmindedly.

"I, uh... I gotta go to the bathroom," I said, staring at Don as he vomited on the floor.

I ran for the security of my beloved sink, threw open the medicine cabinet, and tossed aside those God damn medications and toothpaste until I found an old blade. I frowned at it, because it was rusty, but at that moment I didn't care.

Tetanus was better than the thoughts plagued my shadowed mind.

That night, I opened wounds I'd never thought I'd ever see again, and I'm not just talking about the dozens of jail-cell tally marks on my arms. One for each time I let them down. They never knew that I kept score.

Strangely, it hurt more this time than last time, as I slid the razor blade across my green skin. I was slow about it now, allowing the blood to blossom out of the wound like poppies in the spring. By the time I was done, my arms looked like Flanders Fields.

There was a knock on the door. I ignored it and turned off the tap to wash away the fields where the poppies blow.

If only I could just wash it all away... I thought.

I watched as the fallen petals swirled down the whirlpool of the drainpipe and thought of the waterfall merely pipes away in which I had almost thought to drown my sorrows, along with everything else in my life.

The timid knock was back and it broke into my thoughts. I looked around for something to wrap my arms in, but found nothing but toilet paper and a washcloth. The tap was still running.

"Raphael?"

The voice was April's, unless someone had castrated Mikey. I groaned at the inconvenience.

"Sorry, April, it's occupied," I called over my shoulder, vigorously rubbing my arms under the tap to get them to stop bleeding.

"I just wanted to talk to you," she replied. "I can do it through the door if you like."

I sighed with relief and stopped desperately trying to clot my wounds.

I left the tap on.

"You can't hide from this," April said. I sighed and leaned against the door, slinking to the floor.

"No," I said. "But I can run."

"It'll catch up with you."

"I'm a fast runner."

April was quiet a moment.

"You have no idea what's going on, do you?" I asked her. Again, her reply was ignorant silence.

"I wonder if I really want to know the extent of it," she said. "But it seems you do. You can talk to me about it if you want."

"No," I snapped. "I don't."

I could almost hear her biting her lip through the door. "Listen, Raph, I don't know what you were talking to Don about back there, but you acted as if you knew this was going to happen."

"I didn't know," I said, defensively. "I didn't want it to, but I was afraid it would."

"You're afraid of a lot of things, aren't you?" April said. I grimaced. Was I?

"You're wrong," I said. "I'm afraid of the things that are worth being afraid of. Like Don's problem." And my own, I thought bitterly.

"What did you know about this?"

"Very little," I half-lied. "I talked to him once, but only once. I... didn't know about the pills."

"Then how'd you know he'd taken them?"

"When you find someone acting that strange, it's obvious they've taken narcotics," I replied. It helped that Don had a history, I added in my head.

April didn't buy it. "You don't have to tell me everything," she said. "I just want to know... how deep are his wounds?"

Probably as deep as mine. "I don't know."

"Don't you?" April said.

"Just let me be, April."

"They've laid him down in his bed," said April. "He's unconscious."

I shivered. "He threw up most of it, didn't he?" I asked, more of a desperate hope than anything else.

"I don't know how much he took to begin with," said April.

I don't know what she wanted me to say. I didn't know what I would say, if she asked the right questions.

"Do you know when it started?"

"No."

She was still asking the wrong questions. She sighed, deeply and audibly through the door.

"What did he mean when he said you were afraid of water?"

Damn. She picked a winner.

"Not water," I said. "I'm not afraid of water." I was afraid of the water.

"Was it some sort of twisted metaphor Donatello came up with?" April asked, using all her reporter skills to decipher the story. It bugged me.

"Might have been, I didn't get it," I replied.

"I think," April said, "you're afraid of something more than Don's situation. And Don knows, but you won't admit it to anyone else."

Damn her and her intuitive reporter skills.

"Sorry, Miss O'Neil, that answer is wrong. You lose a hundred points."

"And you might lose your brother if you don't start being straight with me," said April. I paused as the thought of Don's cold body stabbed at my mind like the kitchen knife I'd caught in his hands, six months ago.

"That is not your threat to issue," I whispered.

I heard her kneel down and press herself to the door and felt her breath brush by my ear as she whispered through the crack in the side.

"What are you afraid of, Raphael? What goes bump in your nights?"

Her voice was barely audible and it was almost as if she were whispering right in my ear.

And with that, I heard her rise and leave.

I shivered as I realized I was alone.

Submerging from my tiled tomb, I slipped into my room and donned my old armbands, abandoned for nearly two years now. Silently, I slipped out and away into Don's room.

I was not surprised to see that the only company I had in the room other than drug addict himself was our very own Fearless Leader.

He was clutching his hand as though if he let it go, he'd lose Donatello forever.

"So, uh, what's the verdict?" I asked.

"You're guilty," said Leo, not turning to look at me.

"That's not what I..."

"For the murder of your brother," Leo finished.

In any other situation, this would have infuriated me. But perhaps because I lost some blood tonight, there wasn't enough inside me to boil over. Or perhaps it was because we were in Donatello's room, and fighting with Leo in his room would be like fighting in a cathedral. Sacrilege.

"I didn't kill him, Leo," I said, evenly.

"Maybe not," said Leo quietly. "But you sure as hell killed me."

I was surprised by the statement and stopped in my tracks on my journey to Don's bed to sit beside my older brother. I stared at the back of his head, and vividly counted all the stray threads that needed to be trimmed on the tails of his blue headband.

"What weapon did I use?" I asked, curiously.

"Words," Leo said. "Indifference. Spite. Avoidance. You used a number of things."

"Each forced the dagger deeper..." I muttered, knowing very well that I probably did kill him.

"And tonight, you twisted it in the wound," Leo muttered.

This surprised me. I was only glad that he refused to turn and look at my face. But at the same time, I wondered what deep emotion lay in his eyes, and if I dared venture a look.

"I used to like to think I knew everything about Donatello," said Leo, rubbing Don's limp arm with care. Finally, he turned to face me in his chair. "But tonight, he didn't want to talk to me. No, he'd rather talk to you. You. Of all people. Raphael."

I looked down as I realized his pride had been wounded. And his heart had been bruised. This truly was my doing.

"You knew about him too," I said, suddenly remembering. "I saw it in your eyes six months ago."

"I was scared," Leo said. "You had the guts to do what I'd never wanted to. I... don't like confrontation, as much as I may seem to in my little squabbles with you."

"Little squabbles???" I said with a laugh. Leo gave a small chuckle himself, but it was a weak one. Hollow and dead. Like his heart.

"I didn't want to face the problem," said Leo. "I didn't want to say the wrong thing or... or even admit that there was something wrong. You're a lot braver than I am."

I thought of the water and the words I'd told Don six months ago. Suicide is the coward's way out...

"No," I told Leo. "I'm not."

Leo looked up me with an inscrutable expression. "I guess we're all afraid of something."

I sighed and pulled up Don's swivel chair by his computer and took a seat next to Leo. We both stared at Don.

"I wonder what Don's afraid of," I said.

To be continued...

(With proper motivation...)

GO! Give me Mikey ideas. WRITE Mikey ideas. I implore you.